Date: Mon, 16 Oct 2006 17:13:51 -0700 (PDT)
From: Steam Train <steam_t2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: Even the Modest Must Serve Chapter 7

Even the Modest Must Serve
By Steam Train   ( steam_t2000@yahoo.com )


Chapter 7: Sold.

I sat alone in our cell with Peter and the other two
boys. The other cells were deathly quite 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