Even the Modest Must Serve Chapter 7

Even the Modest Must Serve Chapter 7
By Steam Train

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Chapter 7: Sold.

I sat alone in our cell with Peter and the other two boys. The other cells were deathly quiet and mostly deserted. It was now obvious that us younger children were going to be the last to be auctioned off. Since Ed and Raymond had left no one felt like talking, even the two young boys had fallen silent, sensing our immanent auction.

I don't know what I was expecting but when our time came, it came as almost a relief after the long wait.

We were lead down the hall from our cell and joined along the way by a group of younger teenage girls from another cell along with some girls who looked like they were between 9 and 11 years old. One thing we all had in common was the look of fear in our faces. If I hadn't been so shit scared I would have enjoyed the sight of all these totally naked nubile girls exposed for my eyes to enjoy.

We entered a large semi circular room with tiered seating and were placed by the guards on markers spread along the floor. The room was obviously designed for a lot more servants than the 12 of us that stood there blushing in front of the dressed public that sat amongst the tiered seating. Even the public seating was sparsely occupied, though by the rubbish that was on the vacant seats and scattered around the floor, the room had been much fuller earlier in the day. Guess servants of our age were just not of as much interest as older servants. Inspector Blackmoore had intimated as much the day before I thought to myself.

The announcer ordered us to take our positions and then invited the public wishing a closer inspection to make their way down to the sale floor for the next ten minutes.

I am sure most of those who came onto the floor only came to have a close gawk at our naked bodies. Apart form the inspection tent at Poulton Park on Saturdays before the punishment session for NEWDD's where else was it free and totally legal to look at early teen and pre teen bodies and even feel those bodies with the full consent of authority.

There were even a few "free" teenage boys accompanying their fathers who showed obvious delight in lauding their free status over us servants cowering there before them. It was just another humiliating experience that added to my large and still growing sense of loss of status.

Standing there in the semi circle of the sales floor I felt like an item of property not a human being. The people inspecting me treated me just like an item of property as well. They showed no regard to my feelings; it was as if wearing a collar instantly took away all my human rights, which in hindsight I now realise it did.

After the ten minutes was up, each of us in term was put up for auction individually. But as the lights to the public area had been dimmed and the lights raised on the sale floor I found it difficult to see whom was bidding for me. The glow from the computer screens in front of each bidder's seat, where the bidders placed their electronic bids, cast an unworldly glow across the public areas.

There were not too many bidders for me, that I could tell. It seemed from the auctioneer's voice as he received the electronic bids that there were three bidders to start with, then only two and finally only one bidder was left unchallenged from a counter bid. I did hear the voice of one of the teenagers from the audience urging his dad "Come on dad I really want that servant" but no additional bid was forthcoming and finally the auctioneers hammer was heard and the auctioneer called out "Sold to number 417"

Peter who was auctioned later than me attracted more bidders before being sold I think to the bidder with the son who had wanted me but missed out and at a price greater than myself, which funny as it may seem, made me feel very jealous. I guess he was experienced and I was not but still I was older, there were less years of schooling to be paid for if you bought me, yet they were willing to pay more for him than for me!

The two young guys who shared the cell with me for the last two nights went very cheaply only one bid being received for each of them.

417 bought neither Peter nor the two other boys. In fact 417 only bought me at this session.

When the auction was over we were marched out into a processing room. Two young girls who looked about ten, who had not been sold were taken back off to their cells looking bewildered. The rest of us were checked off against the auction register and in my case the numbers 417 written across my left breast.

I was given a pair of khaki shorts and along with all the other sold slaves taken into a large holding room that was half full of slaves and a large contingent of guards to prevent any disruptive behaviour. I sat down on one of the long timber benches and from time to time a number was called out and all servants branded with that number were ordered to report to the head guard's desk and were signed for I guess, by their new owners.

After about fifteen minutes by the clock on the wall above the head guard's desk, I felt a tap on my shoulder and looking up there stood Ed. I felt a flush of happiness again and was rising to greet him when I noticed 417 written on his left breast. My flush of happiness turned to sheer joy as I realised Ed had been bought by the same owner, I think he realised the same thing at the same time as he said out aloud "You're a 417 also".

"I am Ed, I am" I cried out, before embracing Ed in a huge bear hug.

"What about Raymond" I asked.

Ed's smile faded and he said "Sorry he's gone with his new owner number 132 already".

I expected this to happen but the strange fate of Ed and I had raised just the faintest glimmer of hope, now that hope was smashed and the reality of my situation crushed down on me again.

Ed then said "Did you see dad?"

"You mean dad's here" I replied my feelings rising again

"He was, before they took him away he was auctioned earlier today and bought by 064. Did you see him Tom, he only left like 20 minutes ago?"

"Shit no I didn't, I've only been in here like 15 minutes, I must have just missed him. How is he?" I asked feeling bitterly disappointed.

"Looked bad man, probably good that you didn't see him like he was. The guards have been hard on him; he was badly caned and was handcuffed and shackled because he wasn't co- operative. He was in a real bad way, looked like he had been badly broken of any will to resist. When I first saw him he didn't recognise me, guess he wasn't expecting me to be a slave either but when I came close to him he cowered away in fear, he was not a pretty site Tom, I'm sorry to tell you."

417 never turned up to collect Ed or I, instead the head guard called out "417" and when we both fronted his desk he gave us a khaki tee shirt to put on and instructed us to go with a taxi driver who was waiting to collect us. We were warned not to speak to the driver and not to try anything stupid like escaping as our collars could be easily traced.

It was nice to be outside again. The day was waning fast and the light was fading. Workers were beginning their journeys home as we fought our way through the dense traffic of buses, rickshaws, trucks and cars that always clogged up downtown Eastbrook in the peak hours.

As I have said, the auction centre was in a part of Eastbrook I did not know, however very soon some sights began to look familiar and then very familiar. The taxi wound its way out of the downtown area and through the inner south eastern suburbs along River Road before taking the off ramp for Piney Hills Road, and then almost immediately beginning the steep ascent to the top of the hills.

Piney Hills Road is a divided road, for the first mile or so, and just before the divided section ended I noticed the turn off for Piney Hills Golf Club, my father's former club. My heat pounded faster as the taxi began to climb further up Piney Hills Road.
Piney Hills the most exclusive suburb of Eastbrook was situated as the name suggested on a small outcrop of rolling hills to the south east of town. Piney Hills looked back with uninterrupted views over the Tallahatchie River and suburban Eastbrook.

We passed close by the gated community where the Carter mansion 'Prosperity' resided and then on to the very familiar route that we had taken every school day to the exclusive Piney Hills School. When the taxi actually turned into the PHS grounds, I looked across at Ed, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

The taxi pulled up at the main entrance to the school, an entrance that even as free students we were not allowed to use. However the taxi driver did not seem to be worried by this rule and preceded to usher us up the steps and into the reception area. After brief words with the receptionist she left and returned with Mr Norris the Deputy Headmaster He signed the taxi driver's papers and took possession of a large envelope that the head guard had given the taxi driver to deliver with us. The taxi driver left and Mr Norris said "Follow me boys"

We walked down the corridor to his office, a walk that any HTGS student feared. Mr Norris as the Deputy Headmaster was the disciplinarian for major offences in the school, you did not wish to be sent to his office. As we walked the corridor I could feel eyes looking at us in interest from other offices. We were a source of curiosity, former pupils now slaves. My mind was racing through all the possibilities. Why were we here? Had Mr Norris bought us?

He closed his office door behind us after we entered his office and went and sat at his desk. We stood like two chastised schoolboys in front of his desk awaiting our punishment.

"Why are you out of you uniform?" he asked in his usual very quite very scary, very precise voice.

"Um well Sir …. Um… well…..Um….." Ed tried to answer

"Speak up boys and stop this stuttering"

I decided it was my turn to try and answer and I said "Sir Mr Norris Sir, this is all they gave us sir!"

He looked at me with a firm face, began to raise himself from his desk, my heart raced the fear in me rose, then ….

Mr Norris burst out laughing!

Oh the relief, but Mr Norris never laughed, never ever joked … did he? I couldn't believe it, Mr Norris didn't have a humorous bone in his body or so I thought up till now..

"Boys take a seat"

"Sir, thank you sir" we both replied almost simultaneously.

"Mmmmmmmm well trained servants already I can see, maybe there is something in this after all" he said with a half smile again.

"Right Edward and Thomas, I think you are owed an explanation for why you are here?

"Yes Sir, thank you sir" we replied.

He chuckled again then said. "The Piney Hills School has never in its 140 year history ever had a student enslaved whilst still a student at this school. There have been I am sad to say the odd past student that has fallen foul of the law for one reason or the other and been indentured or enslaved, but never whilst a student and certainly never sold into servitude by a parent. When the Headmaster heard of what had happened to you he called an emergency meeting of the School Council and after some debate the council were persuaded with the help of Judge Unwin who is a council member to authorise the Headmaster to purchase you both at auction today."

There was deathly silence for a while as Ed and I took all this news in. Judge Unwin who I had vowed to hate for enslaving dad and us had saved Ed and myself! My whole being was thrown off by this news, how could I maintain a hate for some one who had done what he had done for us?

My train of thought was broken when Ed asked "Sir does this mean we are not indentured servants any longer?"

"No boys, I'm sorry but it does not end your servitude. Your mother holds the Primary Indenture; all we have bought is the sub indenture for a period of fifteen years. It was her way of protecting you. You are limited to domestic service, not hard labour or other even more disgusting types of service and any change to that domestic service status requires her authorisation through a court, but it also prevents us from restoring your freedom. To be truthful boys if we could, we wouldn't right now anyway. The school must be seen to be getting a return on its investment. You will be special domestic servants here at the school, serving both the headmaster, the bursar, the registrar and myself as well as completing your studies here at the school."

Mr Norris went on to explain how we both would be expected to apply ourselves to our studies and warned us that as indentured servants we could expect to be punished by the schools slave overseer, to the full extent that the law allowed if our results showed we had not applied ourselves fully to our studies. As well before and after school we would act as houseboys, Ed as houseboy to the Headmaster Mr Riley and me to Mr Norris. Occasionally we might be asked to assist the Bursar and the Registrar as well.

My initial enthusiasm at being bought by PHS was quickly waning. I was not the most brilliant student and this new academic excellence requirement left me with a feeling that my backside was going to be well caned, red and sore.

The school did employ slaves who maintained the grounds, cleaned, cooked or did building maintenance, but as they were all older it was decided inappropriate that we should sleep in the slave barracks and so the decision had been made that Ed and I would sleep in a spare bedroom in Mr Norris's residence. Both the Headmaster and the Deputy Headmaster had residences on the grounds. The Headmaster had a family, a wife, a son and a daughter who had both graduated from PHS and were at College but still living at home and a second daughter who was Ed's age and also like Ed, in 11th grade at PHS.

Mr Norris on the other hand was a bachelor. Up until now he had lived alone in his residence.

Mr Norris told us to expect some discrimination in class. As indentured servants we would be looked down on by many of the students, especially as most of the PHS students would have slaves at home and would not be used to sitting in a room and working with a slave on near equal footing.

It had therefore been decided by the headmaster that to avoid any undue disruption and to ease our passage back into class, that the back right desk in each room we used for lessons would be reserved first for us. Which of course meant that as we were in different grades we would be sitting alone unless a free student wished to sit next to us? Some chance of that I thought!

We were instructed about our status as servants and how that related to the free students. That famous slave phrase was stated to us by Mr Norris, "You can't be friends with a slave remember that boys, you are here to serve but whilst in school hours you are only to accept orders from a staff member. Any student who attempts to order you around because of your status is to be referred to me. I will determine what is a fair and reasonable request and also when and if such a request is appropriate. Most times it won't be boys I can tell you that now. However remember you are a servant of this school and any disrespect to free students or adults will be dealt with swiftly and thoroughly with the severe punishment such disrespect deserves. So mind your tongue and attitude and just refer any request or order given to you that you are uncertain about, politely to me, understand?"

"Yes sir Mr Norris, sir" we replied.

"Good, well the last few days must have been very traumatic for you so, tonight I am going to give you a night off. I will take you and show you your room, you can shower and clean up and you will find some clothes in the room, which we think will fit you. Three sports uniforms, one for school and two for wearing around as you perform your duties before and after school. There are also two sets of school uniform for you to wear in school and when you are required to dress more formally in performing your duties as houseboys before and after school. I will organise some underwear tomorrow for you. Ok follow me" Mr Norris instructed.

It may not have been my private suite at 'Prosperity' but the bedroom in Mr Norris's residence was very comfortable. The two single beds were firm and inviting, there was a four-draw chest for us to put our clothes away in between our beds and two school desks had been placed opposite the beds for Ed and I to work at. There was however no TV, stereo or computer.

Maybe that would come later, I hoped at the time, after all there had not been much time to organise things. My hopes would soon be dashed, as Mr Norris was a firm task master and felt the need for TV's etc was only a distraction to our studies. However we were allowed to sit with him and watch the boring nightly news as this he considered a vital part of our education. I was never interested in the news at home and when on the second night I was late, showing my disinterest, I copped a severe verbal berating from Mr Norris and was ordered to front the overseer the next afternoon for two lashes of the cane. The following night I was waiting for the news to start and listened intently as I stood watching the half hour bulletin. My rear end too sore from the caning to sit.

I discovered that afternoon that the schools overseer Mr Lindrum was a man of little words but very swift and strong action. His two strokes on my naked buttocks were the worst pain I had experienced from any caning I had yet received. The fact that I had to stand in front of the assembled servant staff of the school and drop my track pants so that my little boy privates were seen by all, added to my humiliation and resolve that I would try my hardest not to be sent again to Mr Lindrum.

I obviously didn't try hard enough because the first week back at PHS saw me fronting up to Mr Lindrum every afternoon for punishment. Mr Norris sent me for punishment as he found fault with my efforts in making my bed. As well my attempts at house cleaning were abysmal. My ability at ironing clothes was pathetic, my study technique non-existent. All resulted in punishment sentences. I soon came to realise that my life at PHS was not going to be anything like it had before my indenture.

Too my utter humiliation on the second day I had to stand totally naked after showering and was inspected by him, only to be told I had not washed thoroughly and to wash again. He made no comment about my lack of physical development but upon inspecting Ed he ordered Ed to shave himself clean again like a servant should be presented and as there were parts Ed could not reach to shave, I had to do the honours.

To my complete horror I got a boner shaving Ed, which both Ed and Mr Norris noticed. I coped a lecture and a punishment for my penis's behaviour from Mr Norris and later in our room, Ed was pissed off big time that shaving him should turn me on so much.

I mean what did he expect, brother or no brother, feeling a guys naked body so intimately especially shaving a guys ball sac has to be a bit arousing surly. But according to Ed, I was a fag! Well I was for an hour or so then I was forgiven.

In school was worse. None of my former friends would talk or have anything to do with me. I was now a lesser being and as they had all been warned about the consequences of misusing their free status to order me about, they choose thus to just pretend I didn't exist.

It came to a head in science when the class was broken into pairs to prepare a presentation on the reaction of metals to corrosive agents. When I was paired with Jack Strauchan, he refused to work with me and when the teacher insisted, Jack advised the teacher he wished to see the Headmaster as Jacks father had advised him that he was to have nothing to do with servants. Jack informed the teacher that his father was to be called at work immediately. The stand off didn't last long as the teacher backed down and saved face by saying he didn't have time for all this time wasting, so for now Jack could work with Robert MacPherson and he moved Roberts partner Marcus Espiritos to work with me.

Now I had never had much to do with Marcus. He had come to our school at the beginning of the year from Canada though he was from Brazil originally. He was quite and very polite, about 5 feet 7 inches tall and had dark hair. He lived with his dad, his parents being separated and he had been in trouble a bit, early on in the school year as he was not used to wearing a uniform and his dress habits along with his longer than allowed hair length had run him foul of the teachers a few times. He was however a quick learner and soon settled in and I had not taken much further notice of him except that I had noticed on several occasions he had a most gorgeous smile. He didn't seem to make a lot of close friends but was more one of those guys who lingered on the fringe of a number of groups.

Marcus however seemed to have no prejudice against me. He willingly came and sat with me, even saying hi. The looks he got from our fellow classmates both male and female made me realise what a brave move this was for Marcus and increased my sense of gratitude towards him that he was willing to work with me.

Over the ensuing weeks Marcus became a close friend, ignoring the taunts of his fellow students and standing by me in friendship. His actions were not missed by teachers or by some other students. My faith in human nature was again partially restored as at first a couple of 11th and 12th girls came up to us, in the school yard and began talking to me about how it felt to be made an indentured servant and to Marcus about how they admired the way he had not bowed to peer pressure.

This small group eventually grew to a group of about 50 students from all years, who would go out of their way to show support to Ed and I. It made life at the school bearable.

Mr Norris rewarded Marcus for his close friendship with me, by being allowed to come over for a few hours, one Sunday a month if I had been good and Marcus' father allowed it, which he mostly did.

After all the previous fear and trepidation of what life held for me, I began to settle into my new life as a servant houseboy and servant student. As I learnt from my mistakes and subsequent canings and the canings became shorter and farther apart, life became reasonably tolerable. I adapted far quicker to my new life than Ed who often in the early weeks rebelled against his new status and suffered the quick and severe canings we had been warned about.

The Headmaster, Mr Riley's 11th grade daughter Samantha was the biggest thorn in Ed side, insisting on him doing special duties for her in his role as houseboy to her father. He hated tidying up her room and cleaning her shoes and packing her school bag, but when he objected in the slightest, retribution was swift. Samantha would report his actions to her father and Ed would be off to visit Mr Lindrum. On occasions Samantha even went over to see Ed's total humiliation as he was pantsed and caned on his bare buttocks, exposing his hairless genitals to Samantha's leering eyes.

My secret fantasies grew over the weeks to more and more include Marcus and less to include Raymond. My experience with Raymond had unlocked a desire that could not be satisfied and was gnawing at my soul. I began to wonder what Marcus looked like naked, I wished for a clue as to his sexuality. I hoped he was gay or bi and dreaded the thought he might be totally heterosexual. There was never really the chance to be alone with him and if I did get a few moments in the schoolyard I was way to shy to ask him, let alone confess my secret desires in case he should end our friendship.

As much as I wanted to make love to his body I wanted his friendship even more. At night as I lay in bed drifting off to sleep I would settle for my imagined desire and put any thought of actually asking Marcus out of my mind. Then one night not long after I drifted off to sleep, imagining hot passionate sex with Marcus, I awoke with a strange sensation. Hazy from my sleep it took me a few seconds to realise I had wet my bed. I had not done this since I was a kid. How embarrassing and with Ed sleeping opposite me how was I going to hide the shame of this from him. Only when I took some tissues and tried to soak up the wet in my boxers did I realise the bed was still dry only my boxers were wet. Then I realised it was not piss but cum that had awoken me.

My embarrassment momentarily turned to great joy as the realisation rushed over me that I was now capable, I was a man, sure I didn't have the outward signs yet, no pubic hairs, but internally I was now producing my man seed and boy was that a boost to my own self esteem.

End Chapter 7