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The New Society
Part I: The Round Up
It was the end of a long day, and Troy finally put his tools in the shed, brushed himself off, and knocked at the back door of Ms. Jensen’s house.
“Done?” Mrs Jensen asked. “Good.” She looked over her back lawn carefully. Troy had done an excellent job of mowing the grass – criss-crossing as she had demanded, and weeding. She sniffed, inhaling his musky sent of hours of work. “I want you to come in,” she told him.
He trailed obediently behind her, following her through the kitchen and in to the living room.
“I’m sure you know what tomorrow is,” she asked, settling into a chair. He stood in front of her.
“Yes, Ms Jensen,” he said quietly.
“Tell me.”
“It’s the eighteen year old round up,” Troy said flatly.
“And, what is the round up?”
“It’s where all of the eighteen year old males are, well, rounded up.....”
“You know more than that. Tell me.”
“Well, all the eighteen year old males are rounded up and, you know, ah, processed,” he said, turning red.
“And Troy, you will be part of it, won’t you?” Ms Jensen asked.
The boy hung his head in misery and barely said, “Yes. Yes Ms Jensen.”
“I know all about the round up. Tomorrow morning you will report to the processing shed... Tell me more.”
Troy tried to avoid personalizing it. “All the males are stripped and then, well, you know, made slaves.” He fought back tears of shame and fear.
“And that includes you, tomorrow, doesn’t it?” Ms Jensen asked firmly.
“Yes, Ms Jensen. That’s what bio-mom tells me,” the boy said in a bare whisper.
“It’s got to be scary. Being stripped naked, made a slave, and then sold on the auction block. Are you scared, Troy?” she asked.
“Yes, Ms Jensen.” Before he realized what he was saying he blurted out, “Some of my friends have made a run for it. I thought about joining them.”
“Mmmm. Yes, I can see why. It’s going to be scary, being taken to the processing office and being stripped naked. I’m sure you know about the bar code they’ll tattoo on your ass. And you’ll be owned for the rest of your life. I mean, well, it can’t be helped, can it? You are a male, after all.” She paused for a while and then asked, “Any idea where you will end up?”
“No, Ms Jensen. No one does.” Suddenly the young male started to cry.
She let him suffer for a while, enjoying the scene, knowing that the young male was scared out of his mind. “Some males end up working in the mines or on the ships. Some end up being bought by a company. And then there are males sold to the brothels. Do you want to be sold to a brothel?” she asked.
“No, Ms Jensen,” he whimpered.
“Perhaps there is a way out,” she suggested.
He looked up hopefully.
“You’ve worked for me for a couple of years now, and I know your bio-mom quite well. Now, Troy, I’m going to make you an offer. It might be the last one you ever get – at least as a free male.”
“Yes?” he asked. Then remembering himself, “Yes, Ms Jensen.”
“Tomorrow you’re going to be enslaved and sold. Or, I could buy you right now, tonight. You would still have to be processes along with the others, but you would be my property. I could buy you tonight....”
Troy thought what it meant. His fate was already established. There was no escape from that. In a matter of hours he would be taken to the processing center, stripped naked, processed, and a bar code would be tattooed on his right ass cheek. And then he would be put on an auction block. Or – he would still be stripped and coded, but at least he would know his owner.....
“Please, Mistress,” he begged. He called her “Mistress” – the sign of being owned.
“Mmmmmm... it does amuse me. Let’s see what you look like naked. Strip for me, Troy,” she smiled.
Troy obeyed, sliding off his shorts, his underwear, and then pulling off his t-shirt. To his horror, his cock was at rigid attention.
“Very nice. Yes, I will buy you. Anne....” she said.
Troy’s hands flew to his front, covering himself, as his bio-mom entered the room.
“We have a deal,” Ms Jensen said.
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