Little did Shane know, his parents had leveraged his freedom to get a bank loan. Under Black Rule Law a white minor was the PROPERTY of his parents and they had the right to sell him as such. So, today, on the eve of his 18th birthday, the bank decided to call in the loan.
Shane had given himself a hard session at the gym. He’d pushed himself till he hurt. He’d then taken his shirt off and stripped down to his running shorts ready for a few laps of the running track.
His shorts were black and tight. They showed off his tight bubble butt and there was a pleasing bulge round the front. He enjoyed wearing them. He enjoyed the admiring glances he’d get from girls (and boys) on the running track. He never wore anything under them. He enjoyed the feeling of the tight silky material clinging to his body. And he enjoyed the sensation of almost nakedness when he ran. It felt dangerous.
Shane stood in front of the mirror in the changing room and admired his tight, smooth, muscled body. He then found his way to the track and started to run.
Later, dripping with sweat, he worked his way back to the changing room. It was empty. What happened next was quick and terrifying.
He’d removed his running shoes and socks and was about to pull his shorts down and strip for a shower when he sensed movement behind him. Before he could react, a plastic bag was forced over his head. There was some sort of cloth in the bag which much have been soaked with chloroform. He’d struggled desperately, hands gripped his body and held him firm.
‘Easy, boy, this won’t take long…’
A voice? He felt his hands being pulled behind his back and then…