The Neighbor's New Hogboy Part Thirteen By Randall Austin
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
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(Author's Note: I wish to thank Donny Delk for his story improvement suggestions for this and other chapters of this story, and for his ongoing editorial support.)
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The two officers who escorted Thomas from Mr. Patterson's home to Hennepin County Social Services Central, a large complex of buildings, which was but one part of the vast Minnesota State Social Services Authority, were cordial, but unable to answer any of Thomas's questions about what was `going on' with his removal from Mr. Patterson's.
Social Services Central was a place where servants from Hennepin County were trained, servitor auctions took place, and servitors in transition were housed.
The officers led Thomas to a loading dock marked `Admissions', and as soon as they arrived they were greeted by Social Services agent Humphrey Steadmeyer, 50 years old, and still a muscled hunk of a man. Humphrey greeted the officers, gave a quick smile and a nod to Thomas, and they followed him into his office.
Once in his office, Humphrey got on his phone, "Joey, your patient has arrived."
Mr. Steadmeyer spoke to the officers, "Officers, thank you for the delivery. I have Thomas's record before me, and I can assure you that there's no need for you to stay here any longer. If any problem arises, which I seriously doubt, I can tell you just by looking at him I will be able to get his pants down and have him bent over my knee for a prison-type ass strapping in less than three seconds!"
Mr. Steadmeyer and the two officers smiled at each other. One of the officers, giving Humphrey a look-over, replied, "I have no doubt for one second, Mr. Steadmeyer, that you would be able to do that! Hell, you'd probably be able to do that to both Officer Jenkins here, and me, at the same time!"
There was laughter as the officers exited Mr. Steadmeyer's office.
Mr. Steadmeyer saw the fearful look on Thomas's face, and asked, "Is there something wrong, Thomas? You look like you're about to break down?"
Thomas's shaky voice revealed he was afraid, "What's going to happen to me, where am I going?"
Mr. Steadmeyer shook his head in an attempt to allay Thomas's fears and confusion, "I don't know what will be the outcome of the review of your situation, but you need to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen to you while you are here."
Thomas was not comforted, "Why am I considered a patient? Who is Joey? What is he going to do to me?"
Before Mr. Steadmeyer could answer, there was a light knock on the door, and Mr. Steadmeyer called out, "Come in Joey!"
As soon as Joey entered the room and Mr. Steadmeyer began to introduce him, Thomas's fears eased a bit; "Thomas, this is Joey Jacobs. Joey is a registered nurse fresh out of nursing school, and his position here at Social Services Central is that of a `groomer'. His job with you is to feed, bathe, and exercise you. He will be making sure you eat all of your food, and follow all of your grooming and exercise orders while you are housed in this facility. But his first job here will be to carefully examine your entire body for any signs of abuse."
Thomas felt a weight lifted off his shoulders, oddly, because Joey's appearance was not model-boy perfection like that of his cousin Kevin, or former friends, Tagg, Hunter, and Brady, but rather was that of clean, unselfconscious, and innocent, kid. To Thomas it appeared that Joey was not the kind of guy whose highest priority was to look like a model, and for Thomas, as this point in his life, that was a refreshing change.
Mr. Steadmeyer instructed Thomas, "Thomas, Joey is not a state certified overseer or trainer, but he is a certified registered nurse. Your profile is such that I am not requiring you to be in the presence of Social Services personnel with handler or control certification while housed here at Social Services Central. But be warned, that if you do not live up to my trust in you while you are housed here, Joey and any other personnel who may be supervising you, are equipped with emergency contact devices; any problem situations you engender will be dealt with swiftly by the first responding officers from Hennepin County Social Services Central!"
Tagg Ashton called his friend, Hunter Watson, "Hey, Hunter, what's going on tonight?"
Hunter was in no mood for partying, "I just got a call from some asshole from the county social services agency asking me a bunch of shit questions!"
"Whoaa! What about!"
"What do you think? Tommy. He kept asking me if I was a friend of Tommy, and if I was ever intimate with him before he was indentured. I told him I was offended by the very question, that I hardly knew Tommy, and finally just hung up on the asshole."
Tagg offered some comfort, "Hunter, stop worrying! They make those calls to friends of the newly indentured so they can write up a good sounding bio for marketing purposes; if it sounds like the slave had a real nice personality and attracted a lot of friends, they can include that in the bio. Slaves that have winning personalities like that sell the quickest. A lot of people I know who were friends or acquaintances of the indentured have gotten those kinds of calls."
Hunter couldn't accept the comfort, "I don't know why, but that call just really creeped me out!"
Joey Jacobs led Thomas to a private bathing stall. Without saying a word, he gave Thomas a smile and started undoing the buttons of his jumpsuit.
When he finally had Thomas naked, he explained, "I have to carefully examine you for any bruises, scars, or abrasions, and then bathe you."
Joey had Thomas recline on a gurney next to the bathtub, and then proceeded to run his hands over every part of his body while looking for any marks, and feeling for any bumps. He carefully examined every inch of Thomas. The caring touch of the nurse was a balm to Thomas, and Thomas, his eyes closed, could only smile from the gentle relief that Joey's loving exam provided.
When Joey had Thomas sit in the tub, and gently lathered, washed, and rinsed, every square inch of his body, Thomas felt happiness once again. Fleeting happiness perhaps, but happiness nonetheless.
And neither Thomas nor Joey were in any way bothered by Thomas's servitor erection as Joey washed his genital area.
Once Thomas was well scrubbed, Joey dried him off with a big fluffy towel, and then ordered him to recline once again on the gurney.
Joey then began applying a gently scented powder to every inch of Thomas's body, and rubbing it into every crack and crevice. When Thomas asked why he was being powdered, Joey explained, "My job is to make sure that you are well cared for, properly fed and groomed, and don't fall ill. The powder will prevent rashes from occurring during your stay here at Social Services Central."
The exam, bath, and full-body powdering, by their invasiveness, made Thomas feel very institutionalized; but for Thomas it was definitely a good-feeling institutionalization, and he did not mind it one bit.
When Joey powdered Thomas's erection and then grabbed the shaft to rub the powder into every nook and cranny of the servitor's manshaft, Thomas did not care that he was almost about to explode a load of servitor semen.
Joey, of course, could tell that Thomas was near the shooting point, and he really wanted to help him ignite his hard-labor rocket, but his professionalism won out, and he stopped rubbing the powder into Thomas's slave-tube once he felt every nook and cranny of his rod and dick-head was well powdered and totally free of moisture.
When Joey had Thomas stand up so he could dress him in his servitor jump suit, Thomas's hard-labor rod did not go down. Thomas was happy to give Joey a difficult time trying to keep his gaze away from his pecker, and Joey did not mind one bit what Thomas was doing.
Even without sexual release it was the most wonderful moment of relief in Thomas's life after months of, what he considered to be, torture at the home and hands of Paul Patterson and his creepy son, Waylan.
Michael Dayton, Thomas's 15-year old brother, like his brother, was not raised with a religious upbringing, and was not sure if he believed in, or could even understand, God' or a god' in the way that his religious friends did, but he nevertheless found himself praying to something he wanted to be a `god' ever since Thomas was indentured.
"Dear God, Please take care of my brother. I miss him so! I want him back home, with my family, the way it used to be, with my mommy back home, and all of us together again."
"And dear God, please forgive me for what I did on Tommy's last day here with us, that day I overheard my father talking on the phone to the people from the Family Protection Agency."
Once Joey got Thomas dressed in a fresh, tan, servitor jump suit, he informed him that he would now be taking him to the feeding station'. The term feeding station' added to Thomas's sense of feeling institutionalized, but in the presence of Joey, he didn't mind the feeling.
As they entered a big hallway, Thomas saw a group of eleven boys, standing still, almost with an `at attention' seriousness. Joey explained, "That's the newest herd of indentees. They are waiting to be called into their next stage of processing."
The sight of the boys astounded Thomas, for all eleven of them were leg-braced, trussed, corseted, haltered, and penis clamped, except for one, who was butt plugged and whose cock was fitted with some kind of mesh tubing, and the slave was shaking his hips as if trying to get the thing to fall off of his penis.
Thomas was about to ask Joey what the things attached to the slaves' cocks were, when he realized that the hip-shaking, butt plugged, slave was Kevin Dayton, his cousin who had caused him so much torment.
At the same time as Thomas realized it was Kevin, Kevin realized that the jump-suited slave standing a few feet away from him was Thomas.
On seeing Thomas, Kevin, who was either forgetting or ignoring his behavior guidelines, walked over to Thomas, as Joey, unsure of what was going on, put his arms on Thomas in an effort to protect him and as a sign ordering Kevin to back away.
Kevin was not deterred by the presence of Thomas's somewhat nerdy-looking nurse, Joey, and in voice tinged with desperation and tears attacked Thomas; "Your Dad turned me in! He kicked me out of your house and turned in my private computer info and videos to the cops. He did that after all I did for him!"
When a guard appeared and was about to subdue Kevin, he soon realized that Kevin was most likely completely overwhelmed by the dramatic changes in his life, so he gently tried to lead the catheter-muzzled and butt plugged Kevin away from the nurse and his charge, "Come along now. I know you're having a hard time right now, but things will get better. Don't take your anger out on these two fine young men."
Totally distraught, Kevin paid no attention to the guard and continued, "I used to wash your dad's dishes, and take out the garbage and did every kind of chore for him. I did all that stuff for him and he still kicked me out, after all I did for him! Your dad let me down and I still can't believe it!"
When the guard finally gave a sterner verbal warning to Kevin to back off, Kevin continued expressing his grievances, "This isn't right; it just isn't right! You're dad kicking me out made me do desperate things. I was all alone, I had nowhere to go!"
For Thomas it was a pathetic and sorry spectacle. Obviously his cousin was overwrought and couldn't comprehend so simple a fact that doing someone's dishes and taking out their garbage didn't give them the right to rape and torture someone.
Kevin, with him scratching at his painfully muzzled cock, shook his head in the direction of Thomas, seemingly unable to comprehend why he ended up indentured, "I don't understand why your dad did this to me, it was unfair, I was going to..." Before Kevin could complete his sentence the guard had stuck a ball gag into his mouth, and secured it about his head.
The other ten new servitor boys in Kevin's herd, who were watching Kevin's outburst in amazement, pitied the devastated state of their cock muzzled and butt plugged comrade.
Kevin's subduing officer gave Thomas a pat on the shoulder, and apologized to Thomas and Joey, "Sorry about the interruption! This one is clearly having a difficult time with his first day here. I'm going to take him to the medic bay, have him sedated, and give him some quiet time. Hopefully that will help him see this isn't the end of the world."
Although Thomas's future was uncertain, his days were comforted by the fact that the indentured seemed to be treated in a quite civil manner at Hennepin County Social Services Central. He found some comfort in the possibility that perhaps Mr. Patterson and his son were the exceptions, and that most owners of indenturement leases were, in fact, not cruel towards their servitors.
Thomas had started to read, and could not put down, "In Every Heart", a book he had picked up in the facility's library. It was a story about a young servitor who eventually finds happiness with his lot as a social servant. Although Thomas knew the novel was nothing but social services propaganda, he nevertheless was enjoying the book for its overtly saccharine portrait of the joys of servitude.
But Thomas was constantly being distracted as he tried to read, by the scenes going on before him. Thomas's cell was one of twelve cells fronted by a major passageway of foot traffic in the busy Hennepin County Social Services Central building; and Thomas was finding out that servitor training facilities were dens of overt `maleness'.
Within a period of two hours, Thomas had witnessed a parade of 20 naked boys in training duck walking on their exercise rounds; 5 boys dressed in 'acclimation vestments' being led to their punishment; a team of 14 haltered and reined drayage servitors learning to high-step; a herd of 12 boys, nude except for a chest harness, being led to their training room; and a single file line of 50 or more active duty servitors, in various stages of undress, with many of them completely nude, who had been brought into Social Services Central for their annual Hennepin County check-in and physicals.
The sight of so much boy cock had finally brought Thomas to the point of needing to open his rod's cum spigot, so he reclined on his cot, pulled the bed covers over himself, and began his jack-off session by rubbing his crotch through the material of his jumpsuit.
But no sooner had he begun when he heard the approaching voice of Humphrey Steadmeyer. Thomas quickly sat up in his cot, and appearing before him was Mr. Steadmeyer accompanying his father. As Mr. Steadmeyer opened the door to Thomas's cell he shook Mr. Dayton's hand, "Your son is such a well-behaved lad! You should be proud of him!"
Thomas was surprised to see his father, but was even more surprised by the way his father rushed up to him without saying a word, grabbed him, and hugged him tightly for a very long time.
And when Thomas heard his father start to sob, he was overcome, and felt the flush of his father's love.
When Mr. Dayton eventually collected himself, he whispered, "Tommy, my dear Tommy. I love you. I made a horrible mistake. I am so sorry for what I have done and for what has happened to you. I have finally found out all that you have been through. I have destroyed your life by having you indentured."
Mr. Dayton paused, just to feel and hear his son breathing, and then continued, "The only thing I want to say is that I truly love you, and am going to spend the rest of my days doing all that I can do to get you out of this. I am so sorry, son. If you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me, please do that, for then I will once again know the beginning of peace.
Thomas whispered, "Thank you, Daddy. I love you, too. And I forgive you!"
Mr. Dayton held his son for a long time. When he finally pulled back to take a good look at his son, he was heartbroken, "Tommy, there is such sadness in your eyes."
Thomas, was deeply moved by his father's expression of love, and profoundly relieved from the anxiety of falsely believing that his father hated him. The release that such affection provided him caused Thomas to let down his guard, speak freely, and reveal the root of his pain, "I want my Craig back. I miss him so!"
"Craig?"
"Craig is Mr. Patterson's other slave in training, and I love him. I miss him. I want him. I need him!"
Thomas waited a bit to see if his father would react in horror at the confession of homosexual love, but when his father's sad face showed only the deepest concern, Thomas explained how Craig Winston was falsely indicted on charges of causing a major construction failure which caused millions of dollars in damages, and how the architectural firm he worked for was successfully able to wrongfully pin the blame on him, thus ending him up with a sentence of indenturement for life.
"I love him Dad. He is the only person who I have ever loved in such a way, and who was able to help make my life feel complete, even though I've been indentured for life; and I'm never going to see him again!"
Mr. Dayton again embraced his son for a long time, and feared that his son's mental anguish could destroy him.
When Mr. Dayton returned to his home that evening, he sat down at his computer and searched for information on the architectural firm of Mason and Fullbright; for any information on the young architect, Craig Winston, that he could find; and for any information on the trial and conviction of Craig Winston.
One thing Mr. Dayton stumbled upon in his search was an appeal by friends of Craig Winston', to help raise funds on Craig's behalf for a new trial. The website Craig's friends' created claimed that Craig was a new employee of the firm of Mason and Fulbright when the building collapsed, and that Craig was setup by the firm.
Mr. Dayton needed someone to talk to. He wanted to talk to his wife, but he realized his very voice now caused her to get upset, and so he refrained. So he did what he had been doing quite frequently recently, when he found himself near the breaking point; he poured himself a glass of bourbon, and called his lawyer, Saul Mautner.
James Broker, senior-class history instructor at Minneapolis's prestigious Benjamin Franklin High School, made an announcement just before the end-of-class bell was about to sound. "Class, thank you. It has been very rewarding for me to see how interested you all were in reading some of the contemporary accounts of the French and Indian War from the perspective of non-combatants."
"You may all leave once the bell sounds, except that I ask that Hunter Watson, Tagg Ashton, and Brady Logan, remain seated for a bit of business."
Some of the hip trio's friends gave them a mock worried look, as if to joke that they were probably once again in trouble because of one of their swaggering pranks.
As the class exited the room, they saw waiting out in the hallway two police officers, four uniformed officials from the Hennepin County Social Services Authority, each carrying an implements bag, and a male nurse carrying a medic's black bag.
Naturally the moment the students saw the collection of police officers and social services officials entering the classroom they had just exited, they were curious, and paused to watch what was going on. Even though the Social Services Authority tries to keep its comings and goings as inconspicuous as possible, it can only go so far in such an endeavor, and must eventually go about its business regardless of the number of gawkers.
One of the students, Bill Chaucer, winked at his buddies, "Hey guys, I just realized I left my pen on my desk. I have to go back into the classroom and retrieve it!" Bill and three of his classmates followed the uniformed team into the classroom, went to their desks, and pretended to be gathering materials.
The officers went and stood in the front of the room, and invited Hunter, Tagg, and Brady, to come forward, as more of the trio's classmates filed back into the classroom.
Minneapolis police officer Barkley McCann addressed the three worried looking jocks, "Hunter Watson, Tagg Ashton, and Brady Logan, you are under arrest for the rape, assault, and torture of Thomas Dayton. Because this is a closed or `settled' case, which means that if brought to trial there would be a 100% chance of a jury finding you guilty, you have been declared guilty as of noon today, one hour ago, by Judge Marcus Spelling, and are therefore now indentured servitors of the State of Minnesota, Hennepin County, and in service for the State of Minnesota, Hennepin County."
"Your medical records are current, have been reviewed by the prosecution, and all three of you have been found fit for a term of maximal drayage servitude. Therefore you will now be taken directly before Judge Marcus Spelling who will present the charges against you, along with incontrovertible proof of your guilt, and explain the terms of your 5-year term of maximal drayage servitude, along with your rights and responsibilities as servitors in the State of Minnesota."
There was much chattering among the trio's classmates who had gathered inside the classroom and just outside the entrance to the classroom.
The sight of six very serious looking uniformed officials, accompanied by a proud male nurse with a rather pleased smile on his face, carrying a large medical bag that he seemed at the ready to open, added considerable gravitas to the proceedings.
The three high school hotshot jocks felt green on the inside, but put on a front of brave-boy sneers. Hunter, with a bitter gaze aimed at Officer McCann, addressed Tagg and Brady, "This is a joke, guys. Our dads will get us out of this in no time!"
The police officer standing next to Officer McCann, Officer Jones, called out to the freshly arrested boys, "All right you boners, no talking, muttering, or cursing!"
Officer McCann tried to lessen Officer Jones's brusqueness, and gave a friendly smile of pity to the trio, "All three of you, please remove your shirts and any under shirts, now!"
The order brought more fear into the hearts of the three best buddies, and they froze in uncertainty. Officer McCann tried to speed up their cooperation by easing their fears, "All we need to do is get you three boys fitted with chest harnesses and give you your injections, and then we can be on our way. So we need your shirts to come off. That's all, no big deal!"
The three most popular boys at Benjamin Franklin High slowly removed their shirts and t's, much to the delight of their fellow classmates, especially to the girls and the homo boys.
One of the trio's classmates sidled up to one of the uniformed social services official's and quietly asked why the police officer had referred to Tagg, Hunter, and Brady, as `boners'.
The slick-haired official from social services, Blake Evers, felt no need to whisper his response, and all in the room could hear him, "Once we get these three over to `drayage processing', they are going to be denuded of all body hair; everything, pits, nads, chest, legs, even their eyebrows! Then they will be given a full-body oiling for the marketing team's photographer, and the marketing team uses those photos to assess how best to process, modify, and market, each boy."
"But when you see several of these guys all totally naked, bald and heavily oiled, they actually do sort of resemble giant erect cocks, and their oiled heads look like cum-slicked cock heads. It's kind of funny. That's why the newly indentured are often referred to as `boners'."
The police officers and two of the social services officials joined the trio's classmates in raucous laughter at Blake's blunt, though somewhat inappropriate, response.
Social services agent, Ronan Mikhalev, opened up his implement's bag and took out three chest harnesses, kept one for himself, and handed the others to agents Luke Bradshaw and Miles Studebaker.
Each of the three social services agents went up to one of the stunned, newly-indentured, trio and fitted them with their chest harnesses, to the excited mumbling of the trio's classmates in the classroom; as well as to the crowd of students who had gathered about the entrance to the classroom, all in hopes of getting a view and a good cell phone shot of the of the induction into servitude of the three coolest guys at Benjamin Franklin High School.
Once the trio was fitted with the harnesses, the agents pulled their hands behind their backs and cuffed them together by their wrists.
The agent who had just cuffed Tagg's hands behind his back, then, still standing behind him, grabbed Tagg by both of his ears, frog-marched him over to Mr. Broker's desk, and forced him into a bent-over position on the desk by his ears, and kept him held in position by his ears as the nurse came up behind him, and started unbuckling his trouser belt.
Tagg cried out, "What the fuck are you doing?"
The officer who was keeping Tagg subdued by his ears, responded, "Nurse Bowman is going to give each of you an injection, and then we can be on our way!"
As Nurse Bowman undid Tagg's belt buckle, unzipped him, and pulled down Tagg's slacks and undies to review the footballer's lush and plump globes, Tagg's ear-controller tried to soothe him, "Now, now! Don't worry about a thing! Everything is going to be all right!"
Tagg was furious, "I want to know what you're injecting me with, and why you're doing it! I demand to know!"
The agent took a firmer grip and twist of Tagg's ears as Nurse Bowman took out a large-needled syringe and prepared it, and tried some more to calm Tagg, "This will help to make you happy on your first day of processing. Things can get hectic, and we need to keep you calm so the nice folks over at Social Services Authority can do what they need to do to you boys, and get you ready for full drayage service."
Tagg shouted even louder, "I fuckin' demand that you let me go! I ain't havin' anything injected in me! Fuckin' bastards!"
The lead agent from social services, Gunther Holbrook, who had remained silent until this time, spoke with a voice that meant serious business, "Listen to me, you three boners! If anyone of you creates one more disturbance such as Tagg just did, or is uncooperative in any way, then once we're finished with your injections, all three of you will be stripped naked right here, and be given a fifteen stroke strapping on your bare rumps; then we'll pretty you up with some ear mufflers, plug your butt holes with anal spigots, stick a Jenning's gag with an attached throat stopple into your mouths, and top it all off by plugging your piss slits with a catheter muzzle! How does that sound, huh?"
There was no answer from any member of the trio, and it immediately silenced Tagg, and all that could be heard coming from him were sobs, until Nurse Bowman's needle plunged into his right buttock and emptied the contents of the syringe; Tagg then let out a yell, and soon after, totally broken, started to cry.
Several of Tagg's classmates were straining, hoping to get a view of his tackle, but Nurse Bowman was already pulling up his slacks and buckling his belt before they got to see anything.
When the agent let go of Tagg's ears and ordered him to stand up, he took a tissue and wiped up Tagg's tear-streaked face and snotty nose. As he did so, the officer offered words of comfort to the once proud footballer stud who was no more, "There, there, little fella; everything is going to be all right if you just behave and do everything you're told."
One of Tagg's classmates exclaimed, "Did you hear that? He just called Tagg a `little fella!"
Once the officer had gotten snotty-nosed Tagg all cleaned up, Tagg, fighting back sobs, kept his backside facing his classmates, since he couldn't bear to face them, so ashamed was he of the things to which he had just been subjected.
When the agent standing in back of Brady grabbed him by his ears, and frog marched him to Mr. Broker's desk and forced him into a bent-over position on the desk by a tight grip of his ears, the spectacle became gradually rather more entertaining than intimidating to the trio's classmates; and the chattering, joking, and laughing, of the trio's classmates was steadily growing in volume.
By the time Nurse Bowman started to take down Brady's pants for his injection, every classmate in the room and hallway was recording the event on their phones. When Brady tried to break away, the officer controlling him gave his ears a really severe twisting to hold him in place. Brady yelled "Owww!" from the ear-twisting; and when the needle plunged into his right buttock, Brady let out an even louder and longer, "Owwwwww!"
As soon as the agent standing in back of Hunter took hold of him by his ears, he started trembling. Hunter fought back tears of humiliation as he was frog-marched to Mr. Broker's desk, bent over, held down by his ears, and had his pants taken down. Only when the needle plunged into his right buttock did he stop trembling and unleash his fury, "You gawwwdamm motherfuckering bunch of homos!"
His agent responded by immediately twisted his ears to a painful degree, thus making sure that his face remained flat against the desktop.
There was almost immediate silence in the room as the trio's classmates wondered if lead agent Gunther Holbrook would make good on his threat to do those things he said he would do if one of the boys created another disturbance. Most of the trio's classmates were wishing he would make good on his promise, because not only would they enjoy witnessing a real life servitor punishment session, but they also wanted to find out what anal spigots, ear mufflers, catheter muzzles, Jenning gags, and throat stopples, were.
Agent Holbrook did not disappoint, for he gave an immediate nod to his fellow agents, and pointed a finger at their implements cases.
The three agents led each of their boys to a standing position in front of Mr. Broker's desk, and each took out a large pair of sheers from their cases.
The large sheers were easily able to cut through the belts, slacks, and undies, of the fashionable clothes worn by the trio. The agents then assisted Brady, Tagg, and Hunter, in removing their shoes and socks, leaving the boys naked except for their chest harnesses.
The agents were about to bend their boys over Mr. Broker's desk for their first slave strapping, but Gunther Holbrook raised a hand to stop them, as he came forward with a pair of hair clippers.
He turned the clippers on, went up to Hunter, and spoke to the agents, "One little extra touch here, gentlemen, before we continue!"
He put the clippers to the center of Hunter's forehead, and cut a single path down the center of Hunter's luxuriously styled hair, from his forehead, across the top of the head, and all along down the center of the back of his head. Hunter's new haircut now made him look like a clown.
The classmates were shocked at the way the agents were humiliating the three new servitors, and watched in amazement as agent Holbrook clipped a similar swath down the center of Tagg's and Brady's heads.
Stunned and shamed into silence, Hunter, Brady, and Tag, made no sounds as the agents put a hand to their backs and guided them into a bent over position on the desk.
As the agents reached into their implements case for their prison straps, the two police officers and agent Holbrook went to the other side of the desk, and grabbed each of the boys tightly by their ears so they could hold them down during their strapping. With their hands cuffed behind their backs, and their faces secured against the desktop by their ears, there would be no chance for the boys to protect their exposed rumps from the blows.
The classmate spectators waited in breathless silence for the strapping session to begin. When the agents finally laid on the first blow, not only did all three servitors let out loud screams, but the gathered classmates winced in horror at the severity of the blows.
The crack of the strap across the three fresh servitor rumps created an eerie music for a classroom setting. By the end of the fourth blow, all three former hotshots were crying out loud.
Although held down by their ears, the trio could still jump around a bit, giving the spectators good shots of their bouncing ball sacks as they danced about trying to avoid the strap.
By the tenth blow all three servitors were begging for the strapping to stop. It was clear to everyone that the agents had no intention of listening to their pleas, and were strapping their charges' asses with all the force they could muster.
Hunter, who had always been the top Alpha in the trio of Alphas, who had never in his life received censure or physical discipline from his parents, was the one most reduced to tears by the ass whipping; and when the next blow of the strap kissed his globes, he started to uncontrollably release a stream of piss. The agent who was strapping his ass did not notice his loss of control and continued with the beating, thus causing Hunter's piss stream to slosh wildly about from his jumping about and wildly swinging dick.
But Hunter's classmates noticed and soon were heard everything from titters to guffaws about the classroom as Hunter's classmates watched the incredible spectacle of the star footballer pissing like a baby.
Only when the fifteen strokes had been delivered to all of the boys, did the agents who had just performed the beatings notice the last of the piss squirting out of Hunter's servitor rod.
The agent and officers who were holding the trio's faces against the desk continued to hold them down by their ears, as the agent who had wielded the strap for Brady's punishment went and grabbed all three of the trio's top dollar shirts, threw them on the piss mess Hunter had made, and with his foot began mopping up the floor. For the newly indentured boners seeing their top dollar shirts being used to mop up piss from the floor was a sure and devastating sign that their days as the super coolest guys on campus were over.
The room remained rather quiet because most of the trio's fellow classmates wanted to hear their sobbing and crying.
Agent Holbrook tried to offer comfort to Hunter, "You don't have to be ashamed of pissing in front of all of your friends. Basically, we think of servitors as little babies; and just like little babies we will take care of all of your needs, and it no longer makes any difference if free people see you all nakey-nakey, just like a baby. And besides, the folks in processing will be removing all of your hair, so you will all actually end up looking just like little bare-pubed babies as soon as we get you into the processing center.
Next, the three agents from Hennepin County Social Services Authority opened up their implement cases and pulled out an assortment of straps, belts, buckles, butt plugs, rubber balls, a strange pair of ear muffs, and a mesh sleeve resembling a sausage.
The agents selected the anal spigots from the tangle of implements, lubed them up, and went behind the bent over servitors and began working the spigots up their behinds.
Social services agent, Blake Evers, who was working on Hunter, overheard the spectator classmates' chattering as they wondered what the thing was that he was working up Hunter's freshly enslaved asshole. Agent Evers, always eager to educate the general public about the fine points of servitor control, answered, again so all could hear, "This is basically a hollow butt plug to which we can attach a hose, as you will the notice the butt plug sticks out of Hunter's hole a good four inches, and ends in a screw thread stopper. This makes the servitors' induction enemas an easy thing, as the processing team will simply attach a solution hose to Hunter's anal spigot, and they can deliver the rinsing solution up Hunter's behind, and Hunter can also eliminate with the spigot in place. That way they can easily give the boys four or five induction flushings!"
The three agents secured the anal spigots into the servitors' holes with pelvis encircling straps. The classmates witnessing the subduction of Hunter, Tagg, and Brady, couldn't make out whether the trio's mumblings, snifflings, and cries, were the result of their ass strapping, the discomfort of the anal spigots up their asses, or from the pain of their totally devastated lives and public humiliation.
Once the boys were securely plugged, the agents pulled them up by their shoulders into a standing position, and spun them around so they could get to work `dressing' them up.
The classroom was stunned at the sight before them; all three servitors had giant bobbing erections. While the sight of the three totally boned hotshots resulted in a good bit of tittering from their classmates, the majority of the students were simply shocked by the rawness of the moment before them. Rather than raucous laughter, there was mainly awe as the classmates took in the full sight of their former classmates, who all kept their heads down to avoid eye contact, thus clearly displaying their new clown haircuts for their classmates.
The students who were closest to the induction action noticed something those further back did not, "Holy fuck, man! Hunter is oozing precum!"
Another student also noticed, "Oh my gawwd, he's not the only one, so is Brady!"
Another voice called out, "Look, Tagg's rod is beginning to dribble a cum pearl too!"
The observations of the new servitor's leaking dicks led to free-for-all commentary from the student body, "Fuck man, they're juicing like a bunch of homos!"
"They're probably hard because they're getting turned on by the sight of each other's naked bodies!"
"I'm certain they're a bunch of homos, because did you hear what they did to Tommy? They fucked him raw, and apparently the videos show them all naked and high-fiving each other after they each fucked and tortured Tommy!"
"I bet they belong to some fuckin' perverted secret homo society!"
"They've probably been fuckin' and sucking each other off non-stop all along as they were putting on their show of being straight-guy footballers!"
"Just look at `em! What a bunch of loser creeps. They're not so pretty now without their fancy hairdos and their asses fitted with slave plugs!"
Hunter's dick, still hard from his ass strapping, was pulsing from the sensation of the anal spigot up his behind. Finally a big of enough thread of precum had oozed from his cock that it dropped to the floor. Every student in the room noticed, and sounds of disgust were coming from every corner; "Yuck!", "Perv!", "That is sooo disgusting!"
Blake Evers assured the students, "We can put a stop to that leaking!"
Each of the trio's agents took hold of a catheter muzzle, and lubed up the hollow tube that is inserted into the servitors' penis slits.
The trio's classmates, especially the males, were curious as to what the frightful thing was that the agents were lubing. Blake Evers, again, answered their questions, "The cock muzzle is basically a mesh sleeve that fits over the entire length of the penis. At the head of the sleeve is the hollow catheter tube that extends one inch up into the boys' penis slits. The tube is hollow so the boys are still able to piss while wearing it. The sleeve is made to stay on the cock by means of being attached to a band that is tightly cinched about the base of the cock and balls."
The male observers cringed at the thought of being muzzled in such a way, and their female classmates couldn't quite understand why all of their male classmates were cringing and making protective hand gestures in front of their crotches at the very thought of being cock-muzzled.
However, once the agents began fitting the trio with their muzzles, and the howls, sobs, and screams, of Hunter, Tagg, and Brady, resounded, the females correctly guessed that having something rammed up one's penis slit was probably painful.
The sight of Hunter, Tagg, and Brady, openly wincing in pain, once again sobered the room to silence.
Without waiting for the moans of the trio to die down, the agents next went up to their charges, and in a surprise move squeezed them by their noses in order to make them open up their mouths for breath, and quickly stuffed their mouths with a ball gag, and secured it in place with a strap about their heads.
On the part of the gag that was inside the servitors' mouths was a flexible stopple with a small rubber ball on the end, which would vibrate and touch the servitors' gullets if they moved in an agitated fashion, thus causing them to do a spasmodic choking, which the agents informed them could be stopped by turning their heads down as far as they could go, and remain calm. All three boys immediately had their chins to their chests in an effort to stop the gagging caused by the ball end of the stopple from bobbing around and hitting their gullets.
With all three of the new servitors facing their class mates with their chins pressed into their chests, the servitors' classmates got a good view of the harnessed, cock-muzzled, anal-plugged, boys' clown-like haircuts.
With the boys keeping their heads down for fear of choking again, the agents took advantage of their docility to fit each boy with ear mufflers; a head band consisting of two giant half globes filled with sound blocking material that cover each ear, so that the servitor can hear no sounds.
The giant leather half globes that covered each of the new servitors' ears only added to their clown-like appearance.
When some of the trio's classmates called out questions to the agents regarding the ear muffler's purpose, slick-haired Blake Evers was once again the first agent to volunteer an explanation, "When servitors become recalcitrant and refuse to follow orders, or dally in following orders, we ear muffle them! By fitting them with ear muffles, we are basically saying to the servitors, Okay, you refuse to follow our verbal commands. No big deal! These ear muffles emphasize that since you are not paying attention to the verbal commands of your overseers, these mufflers will ensure that you can't hear a thing, and that henceforth we have no means of giving you commands other than through our training crops and flip whips'!"
Hunter, his indignity level piqued, tried to shout out something, but the bobbing stopple immediately caused him to start gagging, and he immediately put his head to chest and remained immobile, as several of his classmates laughed heartily at his attempt to be the defiant one.
An officer went up to Hunter and attached a six-inch chain to a D-ring on the back of his harness, then pulled Brady up behind Hunter and attached the end of Hunter's chain to a D-ring on the front of Brady's harness. He then attached a six-inch chain to the back of Brady's harness, pulled Tagg up behind Brady and attached the chain from Brady's back to the front of Tagg's harness.
An officer then attached a leash to the front of Hunter's harness, and instructed the trio, "Alright you boner boys, we're leading you out to van!"
The officer gave the leash a tug to get the boys moving. Chained together by their harnesses, the boys found movement awkward, for they basically were forced to walk cock to rump with mincing steps.
As the collection team led the boys to their van by a leash attached to Hunter, the trios' classmates followed along, videoing the trio's entire march to their destiny.
When one student was heard to say the officers didn't need to inflict such indignities on Hunter, Tagg, and Brady, another one called out, "Don't forget what they did to Tommy!"
Another voice called out, "Yeah, don't forget Tommy!"
The support for Thomas was infectious, "It's a good thing they got their cocks in that muzzle thing; that way they can't go raping and hurting nice guys like Tommy!"
"Or go fucking each other, which is probably what they've been doing all along!"
Another student called out to the agents, "Keep that ball gag in their mouths for good! That way they can't go sucking each other off!"
The uniformed officials from social services ignored the comments of the student spectators. They were simply pleased with the new indentees, for it was a good day for Hennepin County Social Services Authority; the three handsome and well-muscled, young, bucks, were sure to bring in a most handsome pile of cash to the State of Minnesota's coffers.
One of the classmates videoing the final march of the totally devastated trio of teenagers, called out to his friend, "Three little piggies going to market!"
General laughter ensued, and continued to echo throughout the halls of Benjamin Franklin High School for the rest of the day.
To be continued...
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