Traditional Values
By Randall Austin
PART EIGHTEEN
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
On Saturday morning the first thing Martin did when he woke up was to go into Bradley's room and unchain him from his bed. Usually Martin liked to spend the earliest part of the day by himself, and would first unlock Bradley after an hour or so. But today Martin and Bradley had a lot to do. They had to finish preparing Bradley's room for his brothers' arrival on Monday, since all three of the boys would be sharing one room. The boys' old rooms were now locked and serving as storage areas for all of their things, things they would no longer need as social servants. And then a little later in the morning Hal Franklin was to come over and help prepare Bradley for a showing to a prospective buyer who was scheduled to arrive at the house before noon.
As Martin opened up Bradley's diaper to unlock the chain affixed to his penis ring and secured to the underside of the bed (to prevent Bradley from attempting to raise a ruckus by thrashing around in his bed) he noticed Bradley's foreskin was still sore from yesterday's hoop ringing. "Jeeze, I hope that doesn't turn Mr. Blossman off! I'll have Hal try to hide that with makeup or something." Bradley asked who Mr. Blossman was, and Martin told him it was the prospective buyer coming over to check him out. "Bradley, hurry and get dressed, I have lots of things for you to do this morning."
Martin went into the kitchen and noticed a bunch of dirty dishes in the sink, and a sack of full garbage underneath the sink. Martin was impatient and when Bradley entered the kitchen, Martin asked him why there were dirty dishes in the sink, and the garbage wasn't emptied. Bradley answered that he was very busy the previous day. Martin was short, "Hold on! That's not what I asked you, is it?" Bradley was silent. "What did I just ask you, Bradley?" Bradley said he had been asked why the dishes weren't done and the garbage wasn't taken out. "Then why didn't you answer my questions?"
"I was trying to Dad. I was interrupted."
"Are you sassing me?"
"No Dad."
"Then answer me. Why didn't you do what you were supposed to do last night?"
"I guess I forgot, Dad."
"You guess you forgot? When your new owner tells you to do something are you simply not going to do it, and then say, `Oops, I forgot!'"
"Come on Dad, why are you giving me a hard time?"
Martin raised his voice, "I'm giving you a hard time? Am I? Is that what you think?"
Bradley tried to retreat, "No, Dad. I'm sorry."
Martin made clear where his frustration was coming from, "Your brothers are going to be coming here from some very strict training, and they are going to be in a tip-top behavior pattern. I will not stand for you setting a loose example around here. You need to start obeying to the letter." Martin opened a drawer and took out a small opened padlock. He approached Bradley and put a hand on his shoulder, "Starting now I'm insisting on rigorous good behavior from you, and I will maintain it with strict discipline. To show you just how serious I am about this I want you to go to one of the bolts, which Hal screwed, into the living room wall, open up your peepee flap, and take this padlock and padlock your penis ring to the bolt in the wall. You can stand there for an hour for your backtalk! And since we don't have time to spare today, this time is coming from your breakfast and lunch breaks for today! No food for you until this evening. Any more backtalk from you and you can skip supper as well!" He handed the padlock to Bradley, "I love you, and am proud of you, but this is something we have to do, and I really have no other choice in the matter."
Reese Posnowkovsky and a fellow trainer, Cash Colhurst, entered the training facility's social servant recreation area, and found Jason and Quince Forestman chatting with each other. Both servants were wearing their light cotton training pants and shirts.
Reese and Cash sat down at a table removed from the Forestman boys and chatted quietly. Cash asked, "How is Jason's training going?"
"I think it's going great! Of course, I don't know if Jason feels the same way about it." Reese and Cash laughed to themselves, and then Reese asked, "You were Quince's personal trainer for his first week. How did that go?"
"Quince was one of those super straight macho types, so of course it was a lot of fun breaking him. Look at him now, he's a total behaving baby!"
Reese complimented Cash on the good job he did on Quince, and then lowered his voice even more, "God, look at the asses on those Forestman's! I sure could use some right now. Jason is one hell of a fuck. How was Quince?"
"Hell, with a butt like that, what do you think it was like? It was pure heaven!" Cash licked his lips with a blend of mischief and lasciviousness. "What do you say we trade?"
Reese nodded, and both trainers, in their Social Services black and grey training uniforms, stood up and went over to the Forestman's. "What are you boys talking about?" Reese asked. Quince answered, "Sir, Jason was telling me that his father paid him a visit today, sir."
"How was that visit, Jason?" Reese asked. "Sir, it was a very good visit, sir. I was happy to see my father, sir."
"Quince, you're going to be leaving us on Monday. Cash here is going to miss having you around", said Reese. "It's a shame I never got to know you better."
"Sir, thank you, sir." Quince smiled to hear that he would be missed.
"I think the four of us should do something a little special since Quince will be leaving us on Monday. Why don't you boys come with Cash and me into my office? We'll have a little sendoff party for Quince."
The two trainers walked behind the two bubble-assed Forestman boys. Their having to walk with their legs spread apart because of the training paddles they wore about their ankles highlighted the muscles in their buttocks. Reese and Cash smiled at each other as they watched the four rounded globes wiggle their way towards Reese's training office.
Once they had all entered the office, Reese got right down to business, "Okay Jason and Quince, go stand in front of my desk, roll down your pants in back so we can see your pretty asses, then grab the desk and bend over, cause we're coming on in!"
Reese got a tube of lube, unzipped, greased and erected his pole, then threw the tube to Cash, who did the same. They approached the Forestman's from the rear, Reese taking Quince, and Cash taking Jason. Both slid slowly into their targets at the same time. They both let out sighs of delight as they entered and sank all the way in, and then began doing a slow though deliberate plunging. Reese stuck his tongue out and waggled it in delighted ecstasy. Cash looked at Reese, scrunched up his face, and did the same ecstatic tongue waggle. Reese opened up his palm to Cash and they high-fived without losing their pumping action.
Reese commanded, "Okay boys, we're doing all the work back here. Start pumping those asses for us so we don't have to work so hard." Both servants immediately started humping their asses as ordered, and got compliments from their trainers; "Good job! You know how to use your cunts. You'll get ahead in the world!"
When Reese called for more back and forth motion from their asses, rather than up and down action, both servants instantly complied. Good solid training paid off on both Forestman lads. Each lad knew, of course, that if they didn't follow orders, they could expect to receive an immediate sting from their trainer's service whips, which deliver a fearful, stinging, slash that burns for at least five minutes. But their trainers liked to believe that the two servants were humping their asses properly not because they feared the whip, but because they wanted to be good social servants.
Reese ordered Quince to start doing a squeezing action with his butt muscles, "Come on boy, let me feel your ass caressing my wick!"
Cash ordered Jason, "Make like your cousin, and do the same to my prick!"
Quince and Jason's asses were in full service mode, humping, bumping, squeezing, and grinding. As each trainer neared their climax they reached both hands down and grabbed their servants large, firm, tits. As they pumped they shifted back and forth from tweaking nipples to feeling up and squeezing titties.
As Reese began to plow towards a climax he shouted, "One more Forestman boy is about to receive a special delivery from trainer, Reese Posnowkovsky!"
Cash began to fuck pump Jason with severe force, "Hold still boy now, `cause if you fucking ruin this climax it'll be four hours in the alligator restraints for you!"
Cash and Reese exchanged opened mouth smiles with each other as their climaxes began. Humping the bubble butted Forestman cousins in tandem, they shared vibrations. As Cash and Reese began shooting their loads they brought their heads together and exchanged tongues. They remained mouth-locked throughout their climaxes and for a long time after they came. After a while, as the trainers were catching their breaths, the obedient Forestman boys could feel the pricks up their asses deflating.
As the trainers pulled out, they slapped their servants on the asses and told them to go into the exercise room and get on treadmills, start running, and to keep running until they came and got them.
When Hal arrived to prepare Bradley for his showing to a prospective buyer, Bradley was still penis locked to the wall. Hal asked what the problem was and Martin told him that Bradley was trying to wiggle out of telling the truth, and that he couldn't risk having Bradley be a bad influence on Quinn and Alban, so he had to make the point clear that lying and backtalk will not be tolerated.
Hal was pleased, "You did the right thing Martin! We can't have his brothers seeing him slacking in any way. They look up to Bradley. I can see now that I will need to get him ready for display the old fashioned way."
"What way is that?" Martin asked.
"There is an old saying that the only way to get a servant ready for the auction block or the salesroom floor is with a haircut, shave, oiling, and a paddling. And that's what I intend to do with Bradley. A good paddling just before the prospective buyers arrive will put the traditional red color in the buttocks, and nicely straighten out any attitude problems."
Hal unlocked Bradley from the wall, told him to get out of his jumpsuit, and bring a stool into the living room. When naked Bradley brought the stool into the living room his dad and Hal were ready with the barber supplies. They ordered Bradley to sit on the stool and Hal got to work trimming Bradley's top and tightening up the sides. When the trim was finished Hal lifted up Bradley's arms to check his armpits, "Now you hop in the shower and shave your face, pits, pubes, and nads, totally smooth. When you're finished, slick your hair back with pomade, and come back out here with the mineral oil."
As Bradley returned to the living room he noticed that the giant hoop ring dangling from his penis called attention to his freshly shaved genitals and made them look all the more exposed. Martin and Hal, who had been talking and laughing, stopped and their eyes were indeed drawn to Bradley's shaved groin and the hoop ring which swung as he walked towards them with the baby oil. Bradley handed the oil to Hal who said he had asked for mineral oil. Martin answered, "It's all we have. It's the same as mineral oil."
Hal, surprisingly to Martin, made a big deal out of it; "Martin, you mean when you oil and diaper Bradley at night you use this? Baby oil?"
Martin still did not understand and asked if there was a problem.
"Martin, no wonder Bradley is giving you some rebellious behavior. It is so important to treat a servant with utmost dignity and respect. Using baby oil, with that faint baby scent, could be humiliating to Bradley. Servants do not deserve any unnecessary humiliation!"
Martin didn't quite understand why Hal was making a point out of something he thought of as a very minor issue, at best, so he kept quiet. Hal looked at the bottle of baby oil and said, "Well, I guess this will have to do for now. Come over here Bradley so I can oil you up." Hal began applying the oil to Bradley's shoulders, chest, and back. Hal explained, "Servants on display always show more positively in every way when they are well oiled."
As Hal started to oil Bradley's rump, he commented, "He's nicely muscled here! These are the things that bring in the big bucks on servant boys." When he finished oiling the rump he gave it a spank and ordered Bradley to turn around, and started oiling up his dangling unit, "All eyes go to a well-oiled set of tackle, especially one that's set off with a nice big shiny hoop ring!"
Martin, who had been mildly humiliated at Hal's chiding of him in front of his son, couldn't let the issue go, "Hal, I don't get it. You told me I had humiliated my son because of something as minor as using baby oil instead of mineral oil, yet you have no qualms about trying to make his private parts more noticeable. Don't you think that must be humiliating to him?"
Hal got on his knees and got to work oiling Bradley's legs as he answered, "It is always best to save a servant from any unnecessary humiliation. What I'm doing is something entirely different. If Bradley finds this humiliating, then all I can say is that this is necessary humiliation." Hal, finished with the legs, told Bradley to spread his butt cheeks, and proceeded to work two well-oiled fingers up Bradley's anus. "But, anyway, I don't see why Bradley should find this humiliating. He's a servant up for sale! This is the way things are done. We all want him to look his best. There's nothing humiliating about trying to look your best. And look at Bradley, isn't he a beauty!"
Hal, please that Bradley's hole was sufficiently oiled, pulled out his fingers, stood up, and he and Martin surveyed Bradley, standing meek with his head cast slightly downward, shiny from his pomaded hair to his oiled toes. Hal grabbed Bradley's cock and balls, "Martin, when Mr. Blossman rings don't answer the door immediately. What I'll do first is jack Bradley a bit to give his genitals a firmer appearance. Bradley, I know it will hurt, having an erection thwarted by your infibulation bar and ring and hoop ring, but this is something that's done in most auction venues. It impresses clients."
Hal put a thin canvas belt about Bradley's waist, and to it attached the 6 by 8 inch servant loincloth, front and back. "This is the standard genital and ass crack covering used at most auction houses. Interested buyers can easily see more by just lifting the cloth." The loin coverings were of a fine, thin, chamois, which sort of hugged the genitals, well-covering them, but also revealing their general shape. From beneath the loin covering one half of Bradley's large hoop ring could be seen dangling.
Hal asked what time the buyer was arriving and Martin told him in half an hour. Hal answered, "Good. Put him to work tidying up this living room now, and then in twenty minutes I'll give him a good paddling."
Bradley didn't move, so his father instructed him, "You heard Hal, Bradley, get to work. Straighten this place up in a hurry before Mr. Blossman arrives."
As Bradley went about picking up newspapers and magazines, and dusting, he felt, once again, like he was not quite a human being. Especially when Flora walked into the room, and stopped at the sight of Bradley. Martin explained, "Flora, a possible buyer for Bradley is coming over to check him out. Would you mind leaving us and helping your mother out in the kitchen?"
The slick oiled servant in a loincloth didn't much resemble the brother Flora knew. After a few seconds of wordless gawking, Flora made her way to the kitchen.
Martin's cell phone rang, and it was Mr. Blossman, who was in the area, asking for directions to the house. Martin nodded to Hal, and Hal went out to his car and came back with a big paddle. As he removed the loincloth belt from Bradley's waist, a frightened Bradley pleaded, "Come on, no, please. Dad, don't let him!" Martin waved his hand to shush Bradley, and, annoyed, walked out of the room with his cell phone to his ear.
Hal grabbed Bradley by the arm, and Bradley resisted. But servant boy Bradley was no match for the professional trainer, who in no time forced Bradley unto the couch in a kneeling position, and gripped both of his arms behind his back with one of his hands, and with the other hand wielded the paddle. With the first fierce stroke of the paddle Bradley howled, and then started bawling like a baby. Hal continued, totally ignoring Bradley's pleas. After several strokes Martin came back into the room, having finished his phone conversation. He folded his arms and watched his complaining son get it.
Since Bradley's indenturement Martin was a softy when it came to being firm with him. But now he was becoming more comfortable watching his son get disciplined. It was beginning to give Martin a good feeling, as if punishment was somehow making a better man out of Bradley, helping to insure that he remain for a long time the good boy he had always been. And now to see Bradley getting a really good beating felt especially right. Bradley had been acting moody all morning long, and once his penis was unlocked from the wall, Bradley was silent, but Martin could sense a defiant attitude. It was good to see Bradley's defiance being paddled out of him. Martin had never realized before how strong Hal was, and he noticed for the first time just how firm his biceps were. He studied the professional trainer giving it to his son. He looked at his face and noted that it had a serious smile, like a professional craftsmen pleased with the finishing touches he was putting on his handiwork.
Bradley's yelps were stirring the loins of both his father and Hal. Hal shifted his stance at one point to adjust his slacks, and Martin swallowed and did the same thing. Martin, neither able nor wanting to ponder his stirring loins, was relieved when after another minute Hal delivered the final stroke to Bradley's very reddened ass. As Hal was pulling Bradley off the couch into a standing position, the doorbell rang. Hal gave a `hold it' finger gesture to Martin and took a tissue and wiped the tears from Bradley's eyes and face. He then grabbed Bradley's penis, already slightly firmer from the beating he had just received, and started jacking it. The hoop ring swung wildly back and forth. Bradley was too dazed and wounded to be any further embarrassed. But once he started to harden, Bradley winced in pain. Hal then put the loincloth belt back around Bradley's waist, ordered Bradley to stand nice and tall, and to give a big smile. Martin stepped up to Bradley and touched him on the shoulder, "Just look at yourself, son. You're a real servant now, going on display for the first time. I'm so proud of you Bradley. Strike a nice proud pose now, and let's make that smile on your face a really happy one!"
Martin let Mr. Blossman in. He was a large, somewhat overweight, fellow wearing a flannel shirt, slightly soiled bib overalls, and mud stained boots. He was followed by his pimply-faced, stringy haired, 19 year old son, Husker, wearing similarly soiled clothing, and pushing a small two-wheeled cart with barbells on it.
After introductions Mr. Blossman and Husker walked up to Bradley and stared expressionless at him. Husker spoke to his father, "Well lookit what we got here, pa. A real naked slave boy all oiled and shiny! Stick out your tongue boy!" Bradley stuck out his tongue. Husker grabbed Bradley's tongue and pulled on it and smiled. Bradley gave a terrified look. "Look at this tongue, pa. They say you can tell a slave by his tongue. Whaddya think pa? Is this boy a worker?"
Mr. Blossman smiled, "Boy, you let go o' his tongue. That's all superstitious talk!" Mr. Blossman turned to Hal and Martin, "You folks didn't have to go ahead and get this slave all dime-store pretty for us. Out at the farm we don't go much for oiled, city-slicked, slaves. We just want 'em muscled and able! But I wish folks wouldn't oil up slaves, I don't like getting my hands all greasy feeling them up to see how they're muscled. Husker, feel the boy up for me, and tell me what his muscles are like."
Husker, using both hands, started in by first squeezing Bradley's arms. He clamped his fingers tight and deeply into the flesh as he felt, trying to feel the musculature. When Bradley winced in pain and fear, Husker snarled, "Quiet boy or I'll clip you one!"
Husker spoke as he felt up the chest and back, "He's a grower, pa. Not much muscle yet, but if we work him right, we can turn him into a bull!" As Husker dug into Bradley's thigh, Bradley yipped. Husker stopped feeling him and grabbed Bradley's ear and twisted it. Bradley howled in pain, and by twisting his ear Husker was able to bend an anguished Bradley into a stooping position, "What did I tell you about making noise, boy? What did I tell you?" Bradley shouted that he was sorry.
Husker finished feeling Bradley up and gave a positive report to his father. Husker then indicated a barbell on the dolly, "We need to see what you can do boy, so get over there and pick up that weight!" Bradley found the weight very heavy and could only lift it to just above his knees. "Try to lift it higher, boy", commanded Husker. Bradley tried to lift it higher but it only made him unable to hold it much longer. Husker took a tawse from his belt and warned, "If you set that thing down before I tell you boy, you're gonna feel some swats!" Bradley started crying, almost like a baby. Husker started laughing, "What in the hell is this? Why you cryin' boy? You don't like gettin whipped?"
Bradley could hold it no more and set it down, and Husker was over him in a second and started tawsing his back, shouting at him to pick the barbell back up. Bradley howling with each swat, fell to the floor covering himself with his hands, and curled into a ball. It reminded Husker of one of their former slaves, and he stopped tawsing, "That's what Gabe used to do, always wind up into a ball when we would whip him. But we got him cured of that real fast! We'd put him in the hot shed for a three hours every time he'd ball up on us when we tried to whip him!"
Mr. Blossman bragged, "That's why all our boys keep slogging and plugging along till we tell 'em to stop. They do what they're told. No fancy 9 to 5 hours for common garden-variety server boys! No siree! Out at my ranch we emphasize good old-fashioned obedience and hard work. Our boys knuckle under and sweat it out. A little elbow grease never hurt a server boy." Mr. Blossman addressed Bradley directly, "Listen you little bare worker boy, there's nothing to be ashamed about being a common garden-variety worker boy. You do your work; we feed you. It's a real fair system we got out at the ranch. My sons or I tell you do something, you do it. Nothing degradin' about obeying, no matter how ball-busting the task. Couple of years of doing donkeywork makes a better man out of everyone! All you gotta do is pay attention, mind and observe, do everything we tell ya, heed your betters, carry-out every order, accept responsibility for fuck ups, take your punishments without too much screaming, mind the missus of the house, keep your mouth shut, and your teeth and ass clean as a whistle. My wife and I we need a workhorse, won't fool you at that, but if you do all the stuff we tell you, we give you your own room with a radio, plus all the meat and potatoes you kin eat!"
Husker pulled a cringing Bradley up off the floor as Mr. Blossman continued: "If you make your mind up to do a good job, the lord always makes it easy on you. He makes it so you kin toil in such a way that yur muscles don't ache. I personally don't understand how anyone can do all the work my toiler boys do, but I figure it's the lord stepping in and givin them extra strength. Server boys are special in the eyes of the lord, and he must make it easy for them to do all that hard work. That's the only way the missus and I can understand it. My boys and I go easy on the whip most of the time, but you will be getting a 6 year workout, I guarantee you o' that. You'll come away from our place with a load of muscles on you that'll do you proud for the rest of your life."
Martin saw that Barbara was about to enter the living room, followed by Flora, ready to offer cookies and milk, but he made a quick gesture at them to keep them from entering the living room, and they retreated with curious looks on their faces.
Hal indicated Bradley and asked the Blossman's, "Well, what do you think? You want to take him?"
Martin was curious, "Why do you want to pay such a price for my son, when you could have a criminally indentured servant for almost one third the cost of Bradley?"
Mr. Blossman answered that he looked at servants from how much muscle they could put on. "We aint rich folk, so each of our server boys gotta do the work of three boys. Yur boy here has the kind of body that can be built up into a real muscle hog. It'll take about a year for us to get him bulled out and producin' at top speed, but for the remaining five years we'll more than make up for a slow first year's output."
Hal pushed for the sale, "What do you say, Mr. Blossman? You can take Bradley home now and have him working out in the field by noon." Mr. Blossman appeared to be assessing Bradley, so Hal turned to Husker, "How about you Husker? Bradley's in top shape. He has great heavy labor potential. He's easy to control, as you've just seen. He won't give you and your brothers too much trouble since he hates the whip."
Husker smiled at everything Hal said, but did not respond. Husker appeared to be waiting on his father's decision. Hal needed to make sure that none of Bradley's assets were missed on the Blossman's, "And, of course, he's a good-looker. I don't know how important that is to you gentleman." Husker shifted nervously on his feet. Mr. Blossman spoke, "Well, I like everything about him just fine. But Husker, can you promise me you won't be doin any of that stuff to him I caught you doin to Cleb and Jacob? That stuff ain't right in the eyes o' the lord."
Husker turned red from embarrassment, and pawed the ground with one of his shoes like a little school kid. "Aw pa, I already don told yu I was never gonna ever do that stuff agin."
"Kin I trust you boy? Bradley here is real pretty, just like Cleb and Jacob were. Kin I trust you to keep you're your hands off of him, and that you won't be tempted to do that stuff again?" Mr. Blossman eyed Husker. Husker shook his head in the affirmative while looking embarrassed down at the ground.
Mr. Blossman watched his son for a moment, then as if he had finally decided Husker could be trusted, said, "Okay Mr. Forestman, I'll take him!"
Bradley started to protest, but Husker was quick to give him a whack of the tawse across his back accompanied by a grinning smile. Bradley screamed, and Mr. Blossman directed Husker, "Take our new work hog out to the car, chain him down while I sign some papers, and make sure he keeps quiet."
Husker asked if he should get some clothes for Bradley. Mr. Blossman answered, "He's just a plain manure boy; he doesn't need any clothes for the hour and a half drive home." Things were going too fast for both Bradley and his father to comprehend. Husker quickly had Bradley start pushing the cart with the barbells out to the car, wearing nothing but his loincloth. When Bradley balked and called to his dad about going outside in such a condition, Husker whacked him on the shoulders with his tawse, and grinned, "Your daddy don't own you anymore, so he can't help you. I'm your daddy now!" 19 year-old Husker laughed as he forced the 22 year-old Bradley out into the front yard and down the path to the Blossman's car.
Hal, Martin, and Mr. Blossman sat at the dining room table as Martin opened up a folder of documents. Martin thought about the wisdom of breaking his three sons up, but Mr. Blossman was offering a considerably larger sum for Bradley than the Maple Valley Resort and Casino. And Mr. Blossman's heavy labor needs would also offer Bradley a good chance to develop physically, and that would provide a health benefit to Bradley.
As Mr. Blossman and Mr. Forestman were about to sign the sales agreement, a piercing scream was heard from Bradley out in the car. Martin ran out of the house to the car, followed by Hal and Mr. Blossman. Husker was standing outside the open back door of the car and had already had the seated Bradley chained by his collar to the car seat. Martin pushed himself in front of Husker and asked what was wrong. Bradley cried like he had never cried before, "When Husker got me chained down he started feeling up my cock, squeezing my balls, and told me he was glad his dad bought me because he intended to fuck me every night out in the barn!"
Mr. Blossman whapped his son on the side of the head. "Boy, when I get you home I'm taking you to Reverend Clark. You need to be prayed over!" Husker was almost breathless, "Pa, he's lyin'! I didn't do or say any of that stuff, I promise you pa! Pa, please don't believe him!" Mr. Blossman slapped Husker out of the way and started unchaining Bradley, "I'm sorry Mr. Forestman. I have to call the deal off. I can't trust my son around a pretty boy like Bradley. I'm very sorry."
Mr. Forestman was not especially upset at the turn of events. Hal looked questioningly at Bradley and watched him hurriedly make his way back to the house. As Bradley hopped into the shower to wash off the baby oil, he never felt so much like singing out loud, but he held off for fear it would raise suspicions.