Traditional Values
By Randall Austin
PART TWO
This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. Please do not use my stories without my permission and please forward all comments to randallaustin2011@hotmail.com
Randall Austin's Archive Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Randall_Austin_Stories
At home, as soon as Martin and Bradley had set off for the County Social Services Administration Center, Martin's wife, Barbara, gathered the remaining Forestman children and told them what was going on. Because indenturement is understood by most citizens of Vermont to be an acceptable financial arrangement, not too much was made of Bradley's new status by his siblings. For Bradley's siblings it was kind of like being told that he was going off to Australia for a few years; new and different, maybe exciting, and totally unknown.
His mother explained to her children that Bradley would soon be online on the County Social Services Administration Center website. The children quickly went up to their rooms to get on to their computers. The website was a glamorous affair, soothing music played as a voiceover spoke of the grand benefits for everyone who participates in Vermont's Social Services Programs.
There was a field for registering online if you were interested in `participating'. Barbara gave her children the access code which Social Services gives to family members, and it brought up another scene of domestic bliss, soft music, and a huge scroll down list of airy photos with the smiling faces of folks of all ages. Soon after logging on Bradley's pictures showed up. Just his face, a somewhat forced smile, but the hazing effect made him look good. Alban announced that Bradley was now online and shouted out instructions on where to find him on the site from his room. But when the family members tried to click on his photo and the photos of the other social servants nothing happened.
But soon their mother got an email alert, with the full access password from Social Services, and shouted out excitedly, "I just got the password. It just came in: `rt700forestbrad'. Mom read first an email from her sister that had also just arrived, before she checked out her son's publicity shots. As she started to enter the full access password, she wondered why her children weren't shouting out in excitement at seeing their brother.
The series of almost 40 thumbnail photos of her son that showed up on her monitor when she entered the password and clicked on Bradley's picture left her frozen at her terminal. Eventually she shook her head in disgust at the error she had just made in giving out the password. There on the screen were nude photos of her son from every angle, even a close-up of his penis with the foreskin tied up with a bar and ring. It was only after two minutes of shaking her head at her own stupidity that she clicked on one of the photos. There was her son as she had never seen him in over 12 years. In one full-length photo his eyes were red and swollen. In a photo of him from the rear there appeared to be an angry red cane mark across his left upper buttock. In another photo he held his lips out of the way so as to reveal his teeth. On one photo he held up his scrotum with fingers on each side pulling it wide apart. On the close-up of his ringed and barred penis she couldn't even make out what the strange thing did or was for. The photos showed that he had been shaved of all pubic and underarm hair. And in the last series of four photos he was completely erect and shown from all angles. Photos obviously taken before they put that thing on his penis. In one of the erection photos his face was red from embarrassment, and tears could even be seen in his eyes. There was silence throughout the house.
The entire family heard dad's car drive up to the house, the doors slam, and could hear dad and Bradley going into dad's office.
In dad's office, Bradley quickly unbuttoned his slave fatigues, since his ankle hobbles prevented him from taking them off in the same way he had put them on. He grabbed his own trousers, sat on the couch, and as he tried to pull them on he quickly realized he would not be able to get any of his own slacks on because of the ankle hobbles. He threw his trousers to the side, put his head in his hands and started crying again. There was a knock at the door and Martin, upset, shouted, "Just leave us alone for a few minutes, please!"
After a few minutes, Martin reminded his son, "These cuffs are just temporary. Come on, son. Let's realize that. Once we get settled in everything will be the same." Realizing Bradley would need something to wear, dad took the fully unbuttoned fatigues and laid them out on the floor. Bradley knew the easiest way for him to get them on would be to do it the same way they had dressed him at the processing center; to let someone else do it. So he went and laid naked on the back half of the fatigues. As his dad knelt down and started folding the other half of the fatigues over his son, and as he buttoned him up, he got a nice clear view of all they had done to his son. His collar was wide, lightweight, and somewhat tighter about the neck than he had expected it to be, and looked very serious. His armpits and groin were shaved completely hairless. With his son's foreskin tightly clamped, barred, and ringed to keep his penis from erecting, his penis was kept perpetually in its smallest state. Along with his shaved groin he almost looked like a ten-year old boy down there. And that clamp encircling his foreskin, with an inch and a half bar going vertically through the foreskin just in front of the clamp, and a ring that went through holes in both ends of the bars; to his dad it looked like it would be very painful if his son got so much as even a slight erection.
Once he was fully buttoned and sandaled, dad said, "Let's go meet the family." When they exited there was no one there to meet them but mother. She hugged Bradley, but for one brief moment was frightened of him in his stark green buttoned-down-the-side fatigues that went only half way down his lower legs to accommodate the ankle cuffs and hobbles. When he walked she gulped, when she realized he had to keep his feet wide apart to walk. She watched him hobble his way back to his room in silence. She could tell he had been traumatized. She exchanged glances with her husband in silence. When he finally asked where the kids were, she said, "I think they're afraid."
Martin and Barbara Forestman were worried about their newly indentured son, Bradley. He was not only in his room with the door closed refusing to come out and visit with his family, but even after being back home for over three hours after his processing he could still be heard sniffling and sobbing in his room. Barbara suggested that Martin call his brother Steven for advice, because he had experience in dealing with social servants. Martin called Steven and Steven said he would come over and see if he could help out.
Bradley wasn't the only sullen member of the family. Barbara decided to check up on her other children, and as she walked into Flora's room she found her daughter at the computer looking at some social services' pictures of a boy who was about her age. She was completely unbothered by her mother's arrival, and asked, "Mom, why are these social servants photographed without any clothes on?"
"Because, dearie, people want to make sure they aren't buying someone who isn't strong or healthy."
"Mom, why is this boy here, since he's so young?"
"Because, dearie, his parents probably thought it would be the best thing for him." Flora clicked on the close-up shot of the boy's penis.
"Mommy, it says this boy is my age, but yet he doesn't have any hair down there, just like Bradley doesn't have any hair down there. Don't boys grow hair down there until later?"
"No, they do grow hair at the same time girls do, honey, but, again, they are shaved so folks can see that their skin is healthy and clear all over. That's all dear."
"Mom, why do all of the boys have that thing on their peepees?"
"It's just to help keep them clean, dearie. It's just so that they don't get infected."
As mother finished answering Flora's questions, she urged her daughter to get off the computer and not visit that website again. As she and Flora came down the stairs they saw Martin and Uncle Steven leading a hobbled Bradley into dad's office. Martin waited until Steven and Bradley were in his office, and then closed the door to leave the two alone. Martin rejoined his wife and Flora in the sitting room outside of his office.
After awhile the voices in dad's office rose and occasional words could be made out. Hearing the commotion, Alban and Quince joined the family in the sitting room. "What's going on, dad?" asked both boys.
"Uncle Steven is having a talk with Bradley. Trying to get him to relax." As voices rose, and Steven was heard to shout, "You are a social servant now and you will act like one!" Mother announced that she would prepare a lunch for the family and Uncle Steven, and asked Flora to help her prepare the meal. As they exited they heard Steven trying to put some sense into Bradley, "It's not like you're not going to be remunerated for your services. Not only do your owners provide for all of your needs and upkeep, but also your dad is taking a sizeable portion of your sale and investing it for you. Now get up and do as I tell you to do!" Flora wanted to stay, but mother guided her out into the kitchen.
Occasional shouts and some swearing from Bradley continued to be heard for several more minutes. After one very loud, "Just fucking leave me alone!" from Bradley there were suddenly no more words exchanged, but a lot of scuffling could be heard. After a bit the scuffling stopped, and that was followed by a loud crack of a belt smacking into bare flesh followed by a howl from Bradley. Then another crack and scream. Then another. Alban and Quince exchanged glances of disbelief, and if they were shocked, one can only imagine what Bradley was going through. They could picture what was going on. Uncle Steven was a strong man, an athlete and weight lifter. He would have no problem holding Bradley down as he belted his ass. But still they had a hard time comprehending what changes in the family were taking place. Bradley was a 22-year-old man, and he was getting a strapping on his probably bare ass in his own house by his favorite uncle.
Martin got up and closed the doors of the sitting room to help prevent the sounds from going into the kitchen. He was uncomfortable and tried to explain the situation to his boys, "Uncle Steven knows that sometimes a little bit of firmness can help with adjustments and lead to a better environment for everyone where social servants are concerned."
The belting continued and so did Bradley's screaming and yelping. After about six strokes Uncle Steven paused for a moment to catch his breath, and then said, "I'm just trying to help you to wake up, Bradley, and see that this whole thing is not a big deal if you just accept it!" The strapping resumed, as did Bradley's cries. After several more cracks of the belt, when Bradley's howling finally turned into a sort of heaving gasping for breath, accompanied by pleas to 'please stop' the punishment, and to promises that he would behave, the cracking of the belt against bare skin finally stopped. After a moment Steven came out of the office and closed the door behind him. "I think it would be good to let him cry it out for a few minutes, and then in about 15 minutes maybe you two boys could go in there and help him get back into his fatigues. He'll need help getting dressed from now on."
Everyone was quiet, and suddenly everyone knew that things were no longer the same. Uncle Steven sort of took charge. He gathered the materials given to Martin at the processing center and handed the book, `Guidelines: Dealing Effectively with Social Servants', to Quince, and told him and Alban that it would behoove matters if they studied it, so they could help out their father in the days ahead. They both nodded their heads, making sure their uncle could see that they were good boys, who did what they were told.
He gave the large manila envelope of colorful posters to Alban, and told him he could help out while waiting for dinner by posting them about the house. Martin's instincts were strongly against posting them, but he didn't want to give the appearance to his family that he was confused and uncertain, so he let Steven call the shots. Suddenly Steven was seen as the expert, though no one knew exactly why.
When Barbara called out that dinner would be ready in five minutes, Steven told the boys to go into their father's office and help Bradley get dressed. Steven instructed, "Don't you dare make fun of his condition. When you get him dressed bring him to the dinner table. If he says he's not hungry, tell him we want him at the dinner table. We are a family, after all!"
When the boys went into the office, Bradley was lying face down on the floor on top of the front half of his unbuttoned fatigues, with his head in his arms. Quince knelt down beside him, put his hand on Bradley's back, and spoke quietly, "Oh Brad, I'm so sorry. We are all so fucking upset over this." Bradley grabbed at Quince's knee a couple of times as a gesture of thanks, as both Quince and Alban took in the sight of their brother's very raw and red buttocks, and the strange looking hobbles on his ankles, which they did not know about. The awe provoking collar about Bradley's neck emphasized his nudity, making him look all the more exposed, vulnerable, and servile.
"Its meal time bro, we have to get you dressed." Bradley told his brothers to pull the other half of his garment over his back, and to button up the sides. Alban and Quince did as Bradley told them. Bradley shuddered when the material first touched his buttocks. When he was buttoned up they helped him up and walked with him out of the office. In the hallway Bradley headed for his room, and Quince spoke up, "Brad, you have to come to the dinner table. Uncle Steven told us to tell you that you have to come."
Whatever desire to be alone Bradley had was dismissed by thoughts of again upsetting his Uncle Steven. Weary and resigned Bradley made his way towards the kitchen, with his brothers following behind. Alban and Quince watched in fascination as their brother tried to walk with his legs spread far apart because of the training paddles on his ankles. It looked kind of funny. They both looked at each other and had to stick their tongues way out in an effort to stifle their desire to laugh. Quince hit his younger brother on the shoulder. Bradley sensed that he might be the object of his younger brothers' amusement.