Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction, and those people who are prevented from reading such fictional works either by age, by preference (homosexual content), or by law should stop reading and go back on your browser.
All of the characters presented here are fictional representations.
It's just a story. Please enjoy.
Chapter 1
I did not come form a very wealthy family. My dad moved from minimum wage job to minimum wage job, and my mom was a waitress in a run down diner. We used to have a small house, but we were evicted and forced to live in a small apartment building considered "the projects".
I didn't mind though because it was all I ever knew. I was 22 years old and knew I was poor and probably always would be. At the store I worked at, I saw rich people all the time tossing their money around like it grew on trees. While I received minimum wage and worked 50 hours a week, many of these people never worked a day in their lives. It made me jealous and angry, but I was forced to serve them.
The worst was when these rich people brought their little brats in. These kids had no respect for money. I had to cater to and be subservient to these little brats while they whined about not having the newest electronics, and taking their anger out on me.
One day a man in his late 40's came into the store I worked at. I was stationed in the electronics department that day, and was busy wiping down the display case. The man wore an expensive suit and a perfectly ironed shirt. Walking next to him was a boy. I guessed his age to be about 11. The boy was very handsome with sleek black hair and smooth white legs. He was wearing khaki shorts and a t-shit that had a few superheroes on it.
The man approached my counter. I dropped my cleaning supplies and stood up to greet him. Before I could utter a hello, he spoke in an abrupt voice.
"My son wants a few things, get him what he wants". The man took out his wallet and handed his son his credit card. I stared incredulously at this sight. The boy did not even thank him, but instead brushed his father away and bent down to look inside the case. The older man walked away.
Great, another brat I thought to myself. I exited the counter and walked around to the boy.
"Can I help you find something?", I said to the child. The boy ignored me and did not even turn around. All I could see was his little butt sticking up at me. I repeated myself. "Excuse me, can I help you find something". Without bothering to turn around, the boy spoke.
"Shut up, and I'll tell you when I need something", the boy said condescendingly. I was taken aback, and did not know how to reply. "Show me that thing" he ordered as he pointed a finger at a black object.
Even though this was an 11 year old boy, his domineering attitude made me scared to disobey. I hurried behind the counter and removed the object and handed it to the boy. He snatched it from my hands and examined it quickly. It was a portable video game system.
"I'll take it", he snapped.
"Do you want anything else today", I replied. I walked around the counter to take the video game system back so I could ring it up.
"Of course I do, so why don't you get back behind the counter where you belong". I was too surprised to react, so I just stepped back behind the counter again. This time the boy pointed to a different object, which I handed to him.
"I'll take this too, ring it up", he ordered. The boy placed his dad's credit card on the counter. While I was ringing it up, the boy's father returned. The boy started whispering into the man's ear.
I placed both objects into a plastic bag and put it onto the counter.
"Here you are sir", I said to the boy. I never used the word "sir", but for some reason it just came out of my mouth. The boy stopped talking to his father, and grabbed the bag from my hands.
"What's your name" inquired the boy's father.
"Mathew", I said.
The father nodded and the two left. I worked for another five hours, and then after cleaning the store, I went home. I was still puzzled by my reactions to the boy, and it made me feel uneasy. When I entered my apartment though, I was surprised to find both my parents waiting for me on our couch. They looked very serious.
"We got a proposal today", said my father
"That could make us a lot of money", said my mother completing his sentence.
"A man by the name of Lawrence Oliver called us today. I Don't how you met him, but he is extremely wealthy", said my dad.
"To make a long story short, he wants you to work for him", interrupted my mother. I suddenly realized that this was the man with the boy that I had dealt with earlier in the day.
"Work for him?", I questioned.
"Don't get too excited", said my dad solemnly. "Working as his house servant, specifically taking care of his kids". I could feel my face contracting in disgust. Working for that rich asshole and his bratty kids, I would never do that in a thousand years.
"Definitely not", I said vehemently.
"Well he's offering us a lot of money. So I told him yes on your behalf", my dad said matter of factly.
"No Way!", I screamed angrily.
"You're being picked up tomorrow. You are allowed to bring one bag, and you must be shaved. That was Mr. Oliver's directions", stated my dad.
"You can't just change my life for me", I retorted.
"It's the best for the family. We're getting paid a lot", said my mother
"Well how much am I getting for this?"
"You get free room and board at his house for as long as you want. It's a hundred times better then this shitty apartment. Mr. Oliver will also mail a check for your mother and I every month". I was at a loss for words. I stormed off to my room. Fuck that I thought.
I was woken up by the blaring of a horn. I dragged myself out of bed and looked out the window next to my bed. There was a sleek black car outside. In the drivers seat was a neatly dressed chauffer. The events of last night all rushed into my head at once. I grabbed some pants from my floor and a shirt from my drawer and dressed quickly.
There was a loud knocking on my door. I walked slowly over and opened it. I couldn't believe what was happening. My parents were basically selling me to this guy. I didn't know what to do, so I figured I'd go down and talk to the chauffer about the mistake. I left my room, and brushed past my dad. I caught the elevator and exited the building.
It was a sunny day, and I felt a little happier just being outside. As I approached the car, the chauffer got out and opened the back door for me. My objections went out the window. This might not be so bad after all. I sat down in the back and got comfortable. I'll at least see what this whole things about I thought. The chauffer entered the car and started the engine. We pulled out of the projects, and headed to my new job.
I must have fallen asleep, because before I knew it we had arrived. The house was huge. It must have been at least 6 bedrooms, and I could see a giant swimming pool behind the house. The house could only be reached by a private driveway, and there was a huge lawn in front of the house. As the car neared closer to the house, I could see the boy from the previous day. He was kicking around a soccer ball, and was working up a sweat. The boy was wearing black sports shirts, and a white t-shirt. His black hair was glistening with sweat. He glanced quickly at the car as we pulled into the drive-way.
I couldn't stop thinking about how lucky this kid was, and here I was forced to serve this rich kid. I could only hope that I would like it here. I mean so far, the perks were pretty good. The chauffer opened my door, and I stepped out into the garage. I followed him through a side door, and landed in a large palatial entrance hall. This one room was larger then my whole apartment.
Seated in the center of the hall was a group of people. I recognized one of them as Mr. Oliver. Next to him was a teenage boy around 15 years old. I could only assume that he was the younger boy's brother. The teen had brown hair down to his shoulders and a handsome face. He was in good shape, and though very skinny, had nice definition. Sitting next to the teen was a girl around 17 years old. Unlike her brothers, she had long blond hair and blue eyes. Her skin was smooth though, and she had a beautiful face.
A door opened from the other side of the main hall, and the boy came in. He had dirt on his smooth white legs from playing soccer. He trudged inside, walking toward me. The boy stopped right in front of me. I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there. Mr. Oliver cleared his throat angrily and motioned to me. I stepped to the side, and the boy continued past me and sat on the couch.
"With a little bit of training, you will make a great servant ", said Mr. Oliver. "My kids are to be shown the utmost respect from their servants. Is that clear"?
I nodded my head slowly. Mr. Oliver beckoned me forward so that I was in front of him and his 3 kids. I could feel their eyes examining me like I was just another new purchase.
"You will be told what to do and when to do it. The needs of my kids always come before yours. You exist only to serve them. I am paying your parents a lot of money for your services. If you misbehave do not expect my kids to take it easy on you. They know how to treat their servants. To put it bluntly, this is not a democracy by any means. Is that clear?"
I was dumbfounded, but found myself nodding anyway. I didn't really have an alternative at this point. I was in too far, my parents had already been paid by Mr. Oliver. I felt really uncomfortable standing while everyone around me was sitting. Maybe I could work for the month he paid for and leave.
Mr. Oliver clapped his hands, and a servant came into the room with a buzzer. A look of interest came across all of the kids faces as they stared at me intently. The servant positioned himself behind me.
"All of our servants have shaved heads, it's a rule of the estate", said Mr. Oliver. With that, the servant turned on the buzzer and placed it on my head before I had a chance to object. I watched as my hair fell to the floor. The kids watching me all had evil grins on their faces as they watched me shaved.
"Our head servant will show you to your room and give you a brief tour of the house", said Mr. Oliver. A tall man in his mid thirties approached me. He tapped me on the shoulder and headed toward the exit I followed him out of the room.
The head servant was wearing a white shirt with a black vest. He had two pristine white gloves on his hands. He cleared his throat loudly and began to speak.
"Welcome to the Oliver house. You will find your work here to be hard but bearable. It is my job to make sure you do what you are told. My name is John."
"Nice to meet you", I said.
"The pleasure is all mine. I don't have to deal with those kids anymore.", John said in a relieved voice.
"I'm sure I can teach them some manners", I said
"You won't be teaching them anything. You will do what they say and that's the end of it. The youngest child is named Jacob, his brother is Daniel, and their sister is Alice. When refereeing to them though you will only use master or mistress. Is that clear?"
"That seems pretty strict", I replied
"Is that Clear!", said John with more force.
"Yes, it's clear", I relented.
John led me into a large room with a huge bed in the middle. There were toys and electronics everywhere. I marveled at the huge flat screen television mounted on the wall.
"This is master Jacob's room. He is the closest to the servant's quarters, so he takes full advantage of that. Just giving you a heads up", stated John.
We walked past a few rooms, to a large set of double doors. John opened them and led me inside. This "room" was a mini-apartment. There was a bed, couches, a huge bathroom, and a Jacuzzi. Posters for different bands lined the walls, as well as a few scantily clad women.
"This is master Daniel's room", said John. "He is usually very messy. You'll be doing his laundry, and keeping this room clean. You'll probably also be required to bathe him and keep up his hygiene. This goes for all of the children."
"You've got to be kidding me", I snapped. "I'm not bathing a 15 year old boy."
"If you don't complete your duties, there will be trouble", stated John. "Master Oliver can give your parents a lot of money, but he can also use his money to destroy them. I don't want to see you fired and your family destroyed. Master Oliver has, how should I say this, a bad temper".
I was at a loss for words, so I just nodded. I continued to follow John through a few more large rooms, down a side hall, and finally to a beaten up wood door.
"This is where the servants sleep", said John.
John opened the door to a small room with stacks of beds. It looked cramped and uncomfortable. I couldn't imagine living here for more then a few days. The paint on the wall was cracking, and the only decoration was a bland poster with the rules of the house on it.
"You are in bunk 3. There is a small chest in which you can put your belongings. I'd show you Alice's room, but she doesn't like servants touching her stuff"
Compared to "Master" Jacob's room and "Master" Daniel's, this looked like a closet. I realized now how badly my parents had screwed me. They got me out of the house, they were getting a huge check, and I was an indentured servant to a bunch of rich brats and Mr. Oliver.
Copyright 2008, X-Brand productions
Hope you liked it. I'll post Chapter 2 soon. Please e-mail with questions, comments, or requests at Hippieman1@gmail.com.