The Antebellum School Project Chapter 2B

[Hooked6]

The Antebellum School Project Ch 2B
BY: Hooked6

Copyright January 2024 by Hooked6 (Hooked6@hotmail.com) all rights reserved. Reproduction, redistribution, reposting on another Internet site whether or not a charge or profit is made is forbidden without the expressed written consent of the author. All characters are over 18.

The Antebellum School Project
BY: Hooked6

Chapter 1: viewtopic.php?t=1278
Chapter 2a: viewtopic.php?t=1288

Chapter 2B

“She’s in here,” I heard my step-sister saying to someone followed by footsteps on the hardwood floor headed my way. “There she is, ready to go. Well, almost.”

I swallowed my last bite of food and looked up and it was that crabby old lady, Miss Sedgwick, looking down her long nose at me with what passed as a grin on her wrinkled face. She reached out her hand and fondled several of the wooden sticks woven in my hair and then let them fall back against by head.

“Most authentic my dear. You’ve done a marvelous job here. Is he ready?”

I couldn’t help wonder who the “he” was when she continued, “Let’s drag her butt outside and get her permanently shackled. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

PERMANENTLY SHACKLED?! What in the hell was she talking about?

Both women each picked up and arm and started unceremoniously hauling me out towards the front door. The front door? We were headed towards our FRONT DOOR! In a moment, I was going to be outside within easy sight of our street.

Yes, I knew that at some point I knew I was going to be standing on our front porch going through the motions of being auctioned off but . . . but . . . I wasn’t ready! My mind still hadn’t come to grips with all this. Like I pointed out earlier, I never showed any unnecessary skin at school and was a pretty reserved person – you know, the quiet type. Being naked outside in the back of our house was one thing but being outside in plain view of main street being treated like a slave is quite another.

“Hey, um . . . do we have to do this out in the front yard? Can’t I get a little covering so I can at least get used to all this. It’s so overwhelming!” I pleaded as the front door was opened and I saw a car driving by on the road. I was dragging my feet a bit hoping to plead my case. Yes, I know we have a fairly long driveway leading up to the house, but it wasn’t that long that people couldn’t easily see me. Hell, I could see them and what they were wearing as they drove by so I was pretty sure they could see what I wasn’t wearing! Still, there weren’t that many cars that drove by on any given day as it is a pretty rural area, but that didn’t matter to my hyper-charged brain right at that moment.

“Now dearie, it is just like swimming in a cold pool. It is best just to dive right in the deep end straightaway. It is much less painful that way. No sense in dragging this out.” The old biddy chortled.

I was quickly escorted down the few porch steps and onto the grass then dragged towards our farrier. Mr. Longacre was pounding away at some piece of metal as we approached. Tink . . . tink . . . tink . . . tong-tong-tong-tong. “Hello ladies,” he called out after he stopped pounding. He smiled at me and added, “and you too, slave.”

He looked over the piece of metal that he had been working on, then, after satisfying himself it was perfect, he put it down and announced. “I am ready. Bring the poor lass over here and let’s get started.”

Did he just call me an ass? I fumed.

He grabbed my right wrist and I resisted but he was way too strong for me and I gave up. He used a pair of pincher tongs to pry the thin metal apart and slipped my wrist inside and, using a different sort of pinching tool, squeezed it shut. “Now don’t you dare move or you will get burned, got it?” he said seriously and I didn’t move a muscle as he placed my wrist with the metal shackle on the anvil. He dropped a small dab of molten stuff on the top and bottom edges of the shackle thus sealing them shut.

He turned and put a pair of tongs holding a ring which was slightly open at the end. He then shoved the open end of that ring into the glowing pile of his coal fired furnace. I could feel the heat from that furnace even though I was about 4 feet away. When he pulled the ring out, the open ends were glowing a bright yellow. Working quickly, he threaded the ring into the hole located on the inside center of the shackle and carefully began pounding it, joining the ring ends together. He took a cup of water and carefully poured it on the ring and anvil sending a cloud of steam into the air. He repeated that again until he was satisfied that the ring was cool and pulled my hand off the anvil.

He repeated the process for my other wrist and finally the attached my neck collar the same way only the neck collar already had three closed rings attached – one in the back and two on the sides. He only had to close the ring in the front. I was so scared I was going to get burned but using his amazing skill I escaped unscathed.

“There you go ladies, one set of custom-fitted shackles and one collar all permanently sealed. She’ll not be getting out of those anytime soon.”

Both ladies looked admiringly at the metalwork he had done. True to his word, the shackles did not slide up and down on my wrists but there was room to slide a stick underneath the shackle if one pressed down on my skin a bit to scratch or slide a thin piece of cotton to wash the skin with. The metal was actually pretty thin and didn’t weigh much, but it was solid and unbreakable.

Miss Sedgwick and Angie practiced hooking and unhooking my shackles until they were satisfied my restraints were secure. They told Mr. Longacre to take a break but that they would need him again a little later. I was hoping that meant that he was going to release me from the metal shackles and collar once this auction spectacle was over but I wasn’t really sure. He walked over and sat down under a large tree in the shade and enjoyed a large glass of water.

Miss Sedgwick took me back into the house and undid the cloth ties and removed the sticks that were in my hair and gently brushed it out. She was genuinely pleased with how nice my hair turned out; very curly all the way to the bottom. I was told to take a rag to my feet out back as dirty feet would detract from my sales price. They were talking about me like I was a used car that they were selling. It made me feel worthless and cheap.

Angie came over with some bottle in her hand and put a dab of whatever liquid had been in the bottle on her finger then rubbed that finger behind my ears. She also ran her wet finger between my belly button and on my upper thighs as well. “What is that stuff?” I asked.

Angie, Miss Sedgwick and my step-mom, Susan, all laughed. “That’s just a little old-fashioned perfume used a lot of lower-class women in the 19th century – Vanilla extract. We can’t have you smelling like a cheap whore, can we?” There was more laughter all around and I began to wonder if my perpetual arousal was noticeable hence the need for perfume.

There was a knock on the front door making my heart skip a beat and I was told to answer it and ask who they wished to see. “No hiding yourself and never look a guest in the eye unless they are speaking to you.” My step-mom directed.

“Yes ma’am,”

I reluctantly opened the door and did as I was told to do. “Hello,” I said nervously while looking at the floor showing whoever it was everything I had. “Whom do you wish to see?”

There was laughter at the door indicating to me that there was more than one person calling. “I am not sure,” the familiar voice said. “Who is available today?”

I looked up and there stood our Principal, Mr. Conners, along with Sarah Ann Johnson, THE most popular senior in our school. To me, she was just a shallow, mean-spirited bully and I hated that girl. Both of them were dressed in period clothes. Mr. Conners wore a starched collar shirt; bow tie; black, high-waisted trousers, and a black coat that extended almost to his knees like the old West gun-slingers used to wear. Sarah Ann had on an absolutely gorgeous dress that looked like it was made of silk. The dress was such that it accentuated her large breasts. It was tight on her waist then hung to the floor. I hated to admit it but she was absolutely beautiful. The smile on her face said that she knew it too.

Mr. Conner’s clearing of his throat interrupted my thoughts and I realized he had asked me a question. Of all people I didn’t want to look stupid to was our High School Principal. “Right. Miss Susan, my step-mom; my step-sister, Angie, and Miss Sedgwick are all here. Is there anyone in particular that you wish to see?” I became aware that as I had been speaking my left hand had drifted down to cover my pelvis and I forced myself to remove it to my side causing Sarah Ann to giggle. SHE more than anybody loved to see an embarrassed classmate as she was an expert in putting students into situations like that, the little bitch.

“I believe we’d like to call on your mother if she is available.”

“Yes sir. Please follow me.” After waiting on them to enter the house I hurriedly closed the door and led the way into what Susan called the parlor.

I remembered from old movies on TV that a maid or butler would always announce a guest and wanting to impress our Principal I did just that. “Excuse ma’am, Mr. Conners and Sarah Ann Johnson are here to see you, mom, I mean, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” she said politely – wow, was that a change from her rough demeanor since yesterday. “That will be all for now, Honey. Please go to your room. I will summon you when we will need you again.”

Acting on instinct I turned and started heading for the stairs and my bedroom but I was quickly reprimanded. “The big house bedrooms are for refined people of class and good breeding,” my mom said. “Chattel slaves sleep in the barn with the cows, or in your case, the old closet off the kitchen. March your stinky ass right where you belong.”

Sarah Ann laughed out loud hearing that. I had to pass right by her heading towards ‘my old closet,’ I know mom was playing her part but damn that insult hurt. She HAD to put me down right in front of Sarah Ann of all people.

*****

Alone I sat for some time. I could hear them talking and laughing in the parlor, probably drinking tea or lemonade all the while talking about me. I just wished they would get this over with so I could get on with my life. Then I heard my dad’s words in my head, “I am sure this will be difficult for you but if you aren’t willing to give it your all for Angie’s sake, could you at least do it for me?”

He was right about it being hard and I found myself saying aloud, “Don’t worry dad, I’ll do it for you. I’ll make you proud.”

“Who are you talking to?” Angie asked startling me. “Oh, never mind, I don’t really care. We are ready for you in the Parlor.” She then grabbed my arm and hauled me off the floor and took me out of my room.

When I got to the Parlor, someone had placed an antique, upholstered Bedroom Bench with Queen Ann type legs in the middle of the room. Seated around the room on various furniture were Miss Sedgwick, my mom, and Mr. Longacre the farrier. Sarah Ann and Mr. Conners were standing near the bench. Everyone had stopped talking when Angie and I entered the room and all eyes were looking intently at me.



I also noticed for the first time that Miss Sedgwick, Angie, and my mom all were wearing period clothes and what elegant clothes they were too – well, all but Mr. Longacre, who was still in period work attire. Talk about making me feel uncomfortable with me completely naked wearing only metal shackles and a slave collar.

“STAND HERE,” Angie instructed forcefully.

Mr. Conners approached me and walked slowly around me as if he was studying me. Sarah Ann was in tow like a little puppy dog copying his motions.

“What’s going on?” I meekly asked.”

“Before or shortly after enslavement or in our case before auction, a professional sketch was made of the slave and any distinct characteristics, markings, or imperfections of the newly enslaved person – anything that would aid in identifying the slave in apprehension, should he or she try to escape. It was also used to validate the person purchased exactly matched the person being sold.”

“Oh,” was all I could think to say.

“Sarah Ann here, is quite the life artist and will be making a realistic sketch of you as was done back in the day and, for purposes of Angie’s project, will also be obtaining digital photos of you and any of your unique characteristics for her presentation to the scholarship committee at Vanderbilt. Now I want you to stand straight, spread your legs farther apart and put your arms by your side but not touching your body. Can’t have you trying to conceal anything, can we?”

“Oh great,” I thought to myself “Photos. No one said I was going to be photographed NAKED!

I stood as he had instructed as he gently pulled my long, now curly, blonde hair off my shoulders so that it cascaded down my back. Sarah had had a somewhat large sketch pad and what looked like a piece of charcoal or something and she began her drawing, meticulously noting every detail as my audience looked on and talked quietly amongst themselves. I couldn’t make out everything that was being said but every once in a while, I could hear giggling which unnerved me to no end as I knew they were making fun of me or something about me. Talk about lowering my self-esteem.

After about 30 minutes I was getting tired standing there. About that time Sarah Ann announced that the preliminary sketch was done. “Time for the detailed examination. I have my note pad ready.”

Mr. Conners began calling out details for Sarah Ann that he thought were important. “The slave, known as Honey, has long blonde hair . . . her breasts are small, in fact smaller than average with prominent nipples that protrude . . . let me measure . . .” He then pulled out a small, 6-inch wooden ruler from his coat pocket and, grabbing my right boob with one hand sending shivers down my spine as I felt his touch. He then placed the ruler against my breast next to my now sensitive nipple. He rested his head against my chest, and actually measured the length of my nipple! I was appalled that my Principal actually touched me like that. It was all part of this project I know, but still . . .

He did the same for the other breast as Sarah Ann dutifully recorded.

“The slave’s pubic hair matches the hair on her head so she is most likely a natural blonde.” Mr. Conners then ran his fingers through my pubes several times as if his fingers were a comb causing me to gasp and remarked for the record, “The slave’s pubic hair is somewhat thin and sparse compared to women of her age.”

How in the hell would he know that? Has he done this to many of his senior students? Has he seen many of his students naked? Such a perv, I thought.

He continued down my legs, “The little toe on her right foot is twisted outwardly compared to the same toe on the other foot. The Slave has no piercings visible, not even in her ear lobes. There are no distinctive markings observed that break the skin.” Sarah Ann was scribbling away taking all this down.

This was getting downright humiliating. Is he going to make a career out of this?

“Put your feet up in the air; put your hands behind each knee to hold them up and spread your legs wide,” He demanded.

“What the fuck?” I exclaimed without thinking.

CRACK!

Angie had the wicked leather handle with those two, foot long straps in her hand and she had just lashed my belly with it. I hadn’t seen that coming and squeaked with pain trying to stifle my outburst. I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to hit me again. I immediately lifted my legs and spread them as instructed. I wanted to just crawl under a rock a die.

“The slave freely and copiously self-lubricates without manual stimulation indicating that she is easily aroused. She would make good breeding stock.”

Sarah Ann and my sister both laughed hysterically at his comment making me blush furiously as my face and ears became very warm as a result of my embarrassment.

If I thought that was bad, things took a turn for the worse. Mr. Conners bent down so that his face was only inches from my pussy and using his fingers on both hands, spread my vaginal lips wide apart and began studying my pussy in earnest. “Honey, are you a virgin?” he asked directly.

My mouth opened but nothing came out. My mother was sitting right there along with some man who was a stranger. The biggest bully in my class was eagerly awaiting my answer as well. No matter what I said, my answer would come back and haunt me. “Yes,” I barely managed to say in a shaky whisper.

Mr. Conners scrunched up his face a bit and looked closer making my heart beat faster. “That’s funny. I don’t see an intact hymen. Are you sure you are a virgin?”

“Yes. I have never been with a boy sexually either orally or vaginally.” I said emphatically. I felt the need to explain so I added, “About a year ago I was riding horses with Amy Cantrell and I felt a sharp pain as we were galloping around and then felt wet down there. When I got home, I noticed that I had dried blood on my panties so I assumed I had broken my hymen during the rough ride jumping over things on her horse.”

Mr. Conners looked me right in the eye and asked, “Are you sure you didn’t break it with some sex toy?”

“Oh, my, gawd, NO!” I snapped back causing Sarah Ann to laugh wildly again. She was joined in her revelry by my step-sister, Angie.

“Write down that the slave claims to be a virgin but there is no evidence of hymen virgo intacta.”

“Virgo what-a?” Sarah Ann asked.

“Oh, just write down there was no evidence that she is a virgin on examination.”

“Gotcha” she said still giggling.

I was flipped over onto my stomach and Mr. Conners spread my butt cheeks wide. “Her anus has a brownish tint which appears all the more prominent compared to her light-colored skin. She also has a small birth mark on the inside cleft of her left butt cheek.”

“Okay Honey, you may stand up again. Sarah Ann will commence taking your photographs for your step-sister’s project then we can usher in any potential buyers to examine you for themselves. “

“What did he just say?” I asked Angie, who was standing right over me looking down into my face.

“He said, the fun is just about to start.” She said replied softly then started to deeply laugh.

I got up and was told to put my wrists in front of me. Mr. Longacre fastened one end of a long chain to the rings of both wrist shackles that effectively brought my wrists together and then waited while my Principal brought over a ladder next to me. Our farrier took the end of the long chain and, once he had ascended the ladder, he attached it to a rather large hook in the ceiling. That hook had never been there before and I am guessing that Mr. Longacre put it there while I was in my room waiting to be called.

I was now effectively stuck with my hands over my head unable to move much. My step-mother came over and gave me a menacing grin. “Well, you’ve done well so far, my dear, but what happens next is extremely important, so don’t fuck it up.” She grabbed my chin quite firmly and made me look right into her eyes and lowered her voice in a threatening tone and said, “Do you understand me? If you don’t do just as you are told you will pay the price just as any slave in 1845 would have done. Do I make myself self clear?”

I swallowed hard and managed to utter a very weak, “Yes ma’am.”

I knew she was serious. I didn’t think she was just playing her part. I felt something more in how she said it. Susan NEVER cussed nor used a threatening tone with me, yet, she was doing that amazingly well right now. She might just be acting, but if she was, she was a darn good actor let me tell you. I decided not to cross her just to be safe.

She took a step back, turned around to her daughter and excitedly said, “Let the bidders in to examine the merchandise! They will have one hour so and they had better make it count.”

To my horror the front door opened and in came a large contingent of my classmates, many of who I knew but a lot were strangers to me – young men and women who all attended my school. On top of that, I saw a couple of my neighbors walk in too.

Then I saw that they were all dressed in period finery and here I was totally naked. I want to run away. In fact, I tested the strength of the chain just to see if I could indeed get away but alas that damn farrier really knew what he was doing.

Chapter 3 The Auction and a New Owner.

Comments welcome

[Belinda]

Just a wonderful story. The humiliation aspect is so awesome and that Honey finds it so arousing. So well done.

[Hooked6]

Just a wonderful story. The humiliation aspect is so awesome and that Honey finds it so arousing. So well done.

Thank you Belinda! You have always been so supportive and as you know for authors that aren't out to make a buck, feedback is everything. This story has many more chapters to go so if anything in particular strikes your fancy feel free to comment.

Hooked6

[Tealc000]

If this is in the same universe, I wonder if it's a precursor to the modern slavery stories. Maybe this project started it somehow.

[Hooked6]

If this is in the same universe, I wonder if it's a precursor to the modern slavery stories. Maybe this project started it somehow.

Oh, I hadn't thought about that but it is a nice thought and makes sense that something like this might have started people wondering if there was a place in today's world for modern slavery. There are so many authors that have written and contributed details to the modern slave universe it is hard to begin to name them all. Many still contribute to this board as the concept continues to evolve.

Thanks for taking the time to comment on my story. I notice this is your first post here so welcome to the board!

Hooked6

[gary]

Of course it would have to be in the Slavery Universe, otherwise everything they are doing would be illegal.

[CommodorRaptr]

This is such an interesting take on the slave grading stories. I'm curious to see how the whole process develops.

[Hooked6]

Of course it would have to be in the Slavery Universe, otherwise everything they are doing would be illegal.

The first thought that came to mind after reading your comment, Gary, is that many people reading this would think the same thing - that this, what is happening to Brooke would surely would be illegal. But then I thought gee, most people have no idea what it is really like to grow up in an isolated small town. Those in power in such towns pretty make the rules - pretty much even today.

Oh, and the things they get away with at Universities these days all in the name of research.

I appreciate your comment. Btw, Gary, I love what you are doing with the revised Heartland series of yours. That story is one of my favorites! Will you be continuing?

Hooked6

[gary]

I agree that in small towns, especially as depicted in older TV shows (remember every small town had a crooked sheriff?), the elites can get away with a lot. On the other hand there are also a lot of well armed people, many with military background, so often their abuse of power is limited to 'outsiders'. And there is the problem that it only works if no one knows, too many people are going to know and it. Only takes one to call the state police, or the media (notice that no one in movies or TV report stuff like this to the media?)
In the end though, it is not really important, its a story and a creator doesn't have have to get bogged down in trying to make it exist in the 'real world'. The "Suspension of Disbelief" is perfectly normal in fiction. Otherwise it would not be as enjoyable.
Can I say, I really hate the rest of family, even the father, he has no balls.

[Hooked6]

Can I say, I really hate the rest of family, even the father, he has no balls.

I must say this would be a terribly short story if he had them and the rest of the family were all morally upstanding citizens; we would never even gotten "The Project" off the ground. There MAYBE, be a reason they are acting the way they are.
Just saying. Was it a coincidence that dad had to go out of town just as The Project was starting? Food for thought.

Hooked6

[Johnny Lawrence]

Yes I have to admit that is true. Of course you have to move the story forward.
I forgot to answer the question about my Heartland story. Been working on it again, had various ideas didn't know which ones to use.
This is a re-write of a chapter when Mr. McTavish finally has Amy slave trained and graded. There is a fake slave auction and the person who buys her is a character from the series who was attracted to her and lost, and now wants revenge. Problem has been how much can I have him do to her? So kinda chickened out and limited what he does to her.
My biggest problem in writing in genre is that I am not very good at writing sex scenes. I sometimes want to write in the story:

Wild sex scene, let your imagination have free reign.

But I guess that would not be acceptable, but who knows?

[Hooked6]

Looking so very much to seeing what you decide to do with the story! Like I said, it has been one of my favorites - both the original and revised versions. If anyone can come of with a creative way to move the plot forward I am betting on you.

Hooked6

[Greyman]

Can I say, I really hate the rest of family, even the father, he has no balls.

I must say this would be a terribly short story if he had them and the rest of the family were all morally upstanding citizens; we would never even gotten "The Project" off the ground. There MAYBE, be a reason they are acting the way they are.

Also to be considered, I guess, is how her former classmates, and neighbours, have turned up for the show.

[Mr. Smith]

Regarding the legality of the described behavior, it has all been consented to by our naive Brooke who hopes to gain $30,000 out of all this for role playing as Honey. You may have an public indecency violation if someone driving by observes Brooke naked. Otherwise so fare she has consented to everything that has been done to her. I would think you only hit a legal issue if the buyer at the auction attempts to enforce the sale claiming actual ownership of Honey aka Brooke.

I'm really enjoying this story as Brooke gets manipulated into one humiliating scenario after another unable to disengage now that her reputation ha been permanently sullied. How far does she let it go? I cannot wait to find out.

[jardam1]

I'm kind of starting to worry that there's another amazing story that's going to end before it even gets started.

[Darrenwhipsthesluts]

Please continue this most excellent start Mr Hooked when you have time. The story is off to a great start!!!’

[Panchiman]

The story is going very well so far! Personally I'm not the biggest fan of slave auctions but I still can't wait to see what's next (and I pray it doesn't end there and continues much longer)

[Hooked6]

Sorry for the delay in updating. I have been out of the country on business the last two weeks and was unable to update or post. I am back home as of this morning with a terminal case of jet lag but plan on finishing and posting the next 2 chapters in the next few days.

The story is rather long with many more chapters to come. Thanks for everyone who took the time to comment and your patience is much appreciated.

Hooked6

[Skylar21]

This is such a great story! Very well written. Please keep it going. So looking forward to the next chapters. There is more going on than merely an historical re-inactment.

The arrival of her classmates and the neighbors to see her nude and in chains must be exquisite humiliation for Honey. And having to be submissive to her step mom and sister is, just... WOW!

Thanks for writing.

[Nkvr]

next 2 chapters in the next few days.
Hooked6

[jardam1]

It was a very nice story. But that seems to be over. It's a shame, it had great potential.