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.