Jane is Trained to Submit Ch. 06

Annie silently gasped at the prospect of having to serve these high school eighteen year olds. Like everyone else, she had worked out they had clubbed together to raise the money. She was hardly older than them, but at her age a year meant a lot. Even if they kept to the rules, it would be highly embarrassing to take orders from them, especially as they weren't in her social league. She looked imploringly at the family friend, as the countdown started.

'Going once, going to the noisy guys, twice.'

At the last minute the family friend held her card up high. Annie breathed a sigh of relief, and the audience seemed to sigh with her. The young guy raised the group number again, with his friends nudging him, as though he needed reminding. Back and forth it went, twenty at a time, until the bid was three-hundred and twenty.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for the woman to outbid the guys. It looked as though she had reached her limit, and wasn't able, or prepared, to donate that much to charity. The auctioneer slowly spoke the countdown, with everyone watching intently for the next move.

'Going to the bunch of guys, once. Going twice. The lovely young maid, sold to the guys.'

Annie was looking worriedly between the guys, and her mother's friend. On three, the woman reluctantly held up her number.

Those in the audience supporting the guys moaned. Others let out an embarrassed laugh. The guys encouraged their bidder to continue, so it looked as though they too were near the limit. Annie gave them a cross look, then decided to play for sympathy instead. She just hoped they didn't have enough to outbid the family friend.

The guys saw an attractive college girl, way out of their league, having to serve them at Dan's house, while his parents were away. Their talk before the auction had been fun, and fantasy, yet now it seemed to be coming true. There was a danger though, for they were near their limit.

Brenda hadn't expected to pay so much for a friend's daughter's help. Her husband was well paid, but this was coming out of her housekeeping. She hadn't told him about this at all, and was worried what he might say. She looked across at the guys who were trying not to leer at Annie. What would they expect from her, after paying so much for her services. Damn! She would have to go higher, and find the money somewhere. She knew Annie's parents were feeling the credit crunch, so didn't expect much help from them.

Annie stared at each of them in turn, trying to get them to understand they were upsetting her. She tried to lock eyes with the last one, but he turned away. It was Danny! His brother was in her study group in college. If Danny was like his brother, she would have a hard time over the weekend. Staying over at the winners house as a maid hadn't been a problem, when she thought it was going to be a family friend.

The rules were simple. She had to carry out household chores as ordered. Cooking and cleaning for these guys was going to be a pain. She imagined their rude remarks, and having to curtsey to them. It was all too dreadful to think about. She quickly looked away from them. They were looking at her intently, as though she were on stage, naked.

Damn! What kind of outfit would they make her wear? She didn't like the idea of running around in cut-off's, or a bikini.

Danny pushed his friends arm up, to show the number, despite some opposition from him. The group looked across the auditorium at the woman, willing her to give in.

'Are there any fresh bidders for this lovely maid. . .' she was unsure of what to say.

Under the circumstances, she dare not use the rehearsed lines of innuendo. The poor innocent girl was dying of shame already. The family woman was struggling over the bid at four-hundred and eighty. She willed the woman on, and desperately looked around the room for a fresh bidder. Hell! The damn girl was old enough to know how to fend off boys. She would just have to grow up, and put them down.

'Going once. . . Going twice. . . Going three times,' Pinkie shouted at the audience, and hesitated slamming the hammer down

At the last moment the family friend raised the bid. The guys and their supporters groaned in frustration. The more mature in the audience sighed with relief. This time it was all over. There was a struggle among the high school boys for the numbered card, but it was clear they were bust.

Annie smiled in relief at her owner, and was determined to do her best. She would now be pleased to look after the children and clean house, after that narrow escape.

The crowd settled down eventually, with quiet expectation, when Pinkie announced the next maid for sale. Roberta was a different prospect altogether. She was a dark beauty, and knew how attractive she was. At twenty-two she was more confident than poor Annie. Her friends applauded when she walked forward, and curtsied.

'A maid for a whole weekend, everyone, how much am I bid? I'll start at three-hundred. A maiden bid of three-hundred, thank you,' Pinkie clearly stated.

Roberta broadly smiled at the young guys, and silently mouthed, 'No chance.'

The audience laughed outright. A flurry of numbers were raised, and wives nudged their husbands, with cross expressions. The next bid was from Roberta's friends, who again arranged before hand to buy her services. The amount again reached four-hundred and eighty, only more quickly this time. It was between the high school seniors, and her friends. She was clearly confident, and as the countdown progressed to three, she brazenly blew them a kiss.

They couldn't refuse the challenge and raised their number. She shrugged her shoulders, and looked at her friends. The bid was now over five-hundred. It was a record event already, having passed last years' charity auction total. The men looked at Roberta, wishing they had left their wives at home.

'The lot 102, is going, once. . . The lot 102, is going twice. . . The lot 102 is going, thrice,' Pinkie shouted, while staring at the girls friends.

They responded with a slow raising of their number. Pinkie had her hammer raised, adding to the tension. She appreciated them playing the game, making the auction into great entertainment. Roberta dramatically wiped her brow, as though she were relieved at the outcome. The wink to her friends denied its truth, and received a laugh.

Unexpectedly the guys upped their bid. The friends huddled together, then broke up with smug looks on their faces. Her friends looked across at the guys, then up at Roberta. Something was up! Pinkie could see a slight crease in Roberta's brow. She obviously had sensed it too.

'Lot 102 going once. . . Lot 102 going twice, final warning! Any fresh bidders?' Pinkie asked, trying to drag out the process. A number was raised then quickly withdrawn. Pinkie could see from the platform, a husband being ribbed. Roberta's friends were playing the game too close to the line this time.

'Lot 102, going for the third time. . .' Reluctantly Pinkie slammed the gavel down.

'Sold to number twenty-seven. You can collect your lot on payment,' Pinkie stated, not sure if she hoped they could raise the money, or not.

Roberta's friends were grinning up at her. She stood scowling at them, wondering if they planned this outcome all along, or was it a spur of the moment decision. As she was led off stage she could see the young guys muscling their way back stage. Could they manage to meet the bid price? If so, they owned her for the weekend.

The prospect of a bunch of morons teasing her all weekend was not a pleasant one. She was experienced, and brash enough to put them down, and keep them under control. They were coming to get her, and she noticed one of them was a hunky football player.

The process of paying had been quick and efficient. The guys flocked around her, leading her away in a flurry of exuberance. A flutter of doubt gripped her stomach. Six guys would be flirting, and paying her avid attention all weekend. She had been bought and paid for, and was being taken away to serve them. She could already feel the young masculine hormones, like a heavy weight around her.

Strong hands were guiding her out to a waiting van. They slid open the doors and piled in behind her. They were courteous enough, so she couldn't complain. She pulled at the overall, pulling it tight around her legs. She sat silently eyeing them, as there seemed nothing to say.

'You're supposed to call me, sir, maid,' one of them teased.

'Yes, Sir,' Roberta sighed.

The banter had begun and she found nothing to counter it. She would have to regain her composure and put her foot down, or things might get out of hand. They sat too close on the floor of the van, but there was no room for them to spread out. When they turned a corner, she was squashed by young male bodies.

She realised then it might be her that needed watching. Close up they didn't seem so young and inexperienced, as they did from the stage. Instead of rising above them, she was hunched down between them. It was embarrassing, being tricked into serving these young high school guys as a humble maid. The feeling was replaced by a sense of foreboding.

They arrived, wherever it was they had taken her. The driver slid open the door. Nothing was said. She looked around at the six guys, and each of them stared at her with an intensity that shook her. She imagined them wearing her down with innuendo and flirting, until she gave into one of them. They would all want her then.

The sixth guy, the driver, took her hand. For a moment she wondered if it would be him.

'Come on, out you get, maid. We have lots of work for you,' he chided her.

She shook her head trying to get rid of the fantasy, wondering what the hell she was getting into. Perhaps it had been too crowded in there, with all those virile bodies touching her. She shook her head again, having caught herself yet again becoming carried away. Maybe she could withstand her friends taunts over abandoning the job, and phone them to collect her.

'Here's your outfit for the weekend, go and change in your room, maid,' James told her.

The big handsome footballer handed her something and she wandered off in the direction her pointed. It was only when she got to the room that she looked at the clothes. They had given her a tiny pair of cut-off jeans, and a boob tube.

'Shit! I'm not wearing this trash!' she complained to the empty room.

The horrible old overall covered her but it was horrible. She didn't want to wear that either. She picked up the shorts. 'I could try them on,' she mused.

She often wore cut-offs, but these were too brief. She pulled on the boob tube and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked so very sexy, it might work. The chumps would cream their jeans when she walked in on them. 'Yes! You guys are in way over your tiny heads. You won't stand a chance against the devastating Roberta,' she laughed.

She was partly right. The laughing chatter died when she walked in.

'How may this humble maid serve you, sirs?' she asked, with a big smile.

James stepped in front of her, looking confident and self-assured.

The prepared put down, designed to make his friends laugh at him, died in her throat. He was tall and handsome, with a winning smile.

'You look absolutely gorgeous, doesn't she guys?' he announced. They all agreed, with compliments covering her.

'It should be us serving you, goddess. It was for charity, and we bought you, so we own you. Now you have to do your maid thing, alright?' he sweetly asked.

His deep voice had her swooning with pleasure.

'Sure, happy to serve, sir,' she mumbled.

The guys didn't take their eyes from the bare cheeks, protruding from the skimpy jeans, when saying yes to a beer. The crotch of the jeans pulled tight, showing of a cute bottom, and cut her in two in front.

The weak sound of her voice surprised her. The dizzy feeling worried her. She looked around the kitchen, seeing it as blur of faces. She somehow made it to the refrigerator to get beer, and handed them around. She shouldn't have held an armful of cans to her breasts. She was painfully aware of the guys admiring her cold nipples, pushing at the wet top.

They all agreed she was a bargain. Following James advice, they would take it steady, not rushing things.

***

Jed worked out, and liked to show off his muscles. There were wives at the auction without their husbands, which gave them an advantage. The men had wriggled out of attending the function, with better, more important things to do. If they knew how much their wives were prepared to bid at the auction, and what for, they would have been outraged.

The room became excited as the bidding rose above the five-hundred mark. At the beginning pieces of card with bidders numbers printed on them, had risen like mushrooms, popping up throughout the crowd. Bidders with a wide range in ages were in with a chance, though it was more a matter of trying rather than wining. The married women knew they would have to drop out before the price became serious. It was a nice fantasy owning this young handsome guy for just a moment, before someone else outbid them.

There were flushed faces from excitement everywhere. They still lived the fantasy, only through someone else now, as it became a battle between just two bidders. Nell and Julia were in a battle over the hunky young guy.

Nell, a widow, thought she deserved a diversion from a humdrum life. A little excitement was well due to her. She imagined him walking into her kitchen from the back yard, bare chest glistening with sweat, showing off rippling muscles. She would feed him, to keep his strength up. The familiar countdown started. Realising it was just a fantasy, the number remained at her side.

He turned around and flexed his muscles. They took in his broad shoulders above a strong tapered back, and a cute bottom. A sigh left her lips, and she raised the card again. Just one more time she thought.

Julia wasn't going to be beaten, especially not after that! The denim overall fit him so well. She had been impressed by the muscular arms, and imagined being wrapped in them for a hug. When he turned around, he seemed to be looking right at her. Her eyes glinted and she couldn't pull them away from him. She had been divorced for a couple of years, and told herself it was a just revenge against a husband who ran off with a younger woman.

Another hundred was added to the bid, making it six-hundred and fifty. Julia won. Reality closed in on her. She was nearing forty, so what in hell was she going to do with a nineteen year old boy. The money could have been better put toward a luxury weekend break, or a new refrigerator. Damn! She had been a fool. Julia pushed her way to the back stage area through a cheering crowd.

Nell scowled at her, though others laughed and threw compliments her way. She heard little of this as she made her way to pay for her so called, garden slave. A rabble of teenage boys were escorting their prize away. The young woman didn't look happy either.

'Cheer up, you've won!' Bethany smiled.

'Yea! OK! So what do I do with him now?' Julia grimaced.

'He's your slave for the weekend, you'll think of something,' Bethany winked back.

'Oh, sure. It's a great joke. He's too young,' Julia complained, while handing over a cheque.

'I meant in the garden,' Bethany laughed.

'Come on, you have a lot to earn,' Julia gruffly said, to the young man.

They said nothing on the journey to her house, which she was grateful for.

'It's dark, so no gardening now. Early to bed, and all that,' she told him.

'I'm your slave, so, what are your orders, mistress,' he humbly spoke.

He didn't look so humble though. Why didn't he just go to the spare room, out of her way. She just stood there wondering what to do with him. He was a bit old to be sent to his room.

'Thank you for donating so much to charity. You need to get your money's worth. I'll run a bath for you, mistress,' he said, trying to fit into the part. She watched him stride down the hall, looking for the master bedroom. He didn't act like a humble slave either.

'It's OK, no need,' she started to say, but he had disappeared into her bedroom before she could recover her wits.

Damn! The guy is running a bath. She thought that was just something they did in movies. She rubbed the back of her neck, feeling tired. Well, a hot bath would set her off to sleep tonight. She certainly needed something to relax her, with a stranger in the house.

He appeared from the kitchen as though by magic.

'I've taken the liberty of pouring a glass of wine, and left it by the bath,' he said.

When she just sat there open mouthed, he said, 'May I be of service, mistress,' he said, sounding masterful, despite the words.

She cleared her throat. 'Thank you, I'll go to my room,' she lamely said.

It was her home, and she was meekly going to her room. Surely it should have been her telling this young guy to go to his room. Slave, servant, or gardener, whatever he was, she should be calling the shots. Somehow he was manoeuvring her instead.

With one eye on the door she stripped off, wondering if she should wedge a chair under the door handle. 'Don't be stupid, he's just trying to be helpful,' she told herself. Besides, there wasn't a chair, only a stool at the dressing table.

'Wow!' she exhaled.

The lights were off, leaving a soft glow from candles perched on every free surface. How did he manage to make the place look so magical? He had tidied up a little too. She relaxed. He was gay, that was it. A small bedside table from the spare room was standing beside the bath, with a glass of wine, and a box of chocolates. She had been saving that delicacy for a special moment.

Sinking into the hot tub under a sea of foam, she realised this was it. The box had been saved as an emergency kit, for when she needed cheering up. Picking a strawberry cream, she found it worked. The money wasn't wasted after all.

A light knock at the door roused her from a dreamy existence. 'Yes?' she murmured.

The door opened and in he walked. She automatically drew her legs together, and covered her breasts. Startled from speaking, she was relieved he was studiously looking away.

'I took the liberty of bringing a top up,' he said, with a warm smile in his voice.

'I'm not dressed,' she needlessly said. A quick check confirmed she was still covered in bubbles.

'Don't panic,' his deep voice filled the room.

Looking her in the eye, rather than trying to scan her body, he re-filled the glass. Her whole body stiffened when a hand reached into the bath.

'It's getting cold. Do you want more hot water, or are you ready now,' he casually asked.

The bath was almost overflowing now, so how was he going to top it up? Pulling the plug was too much of a risk. Was there an undercurrent to his question, was she ready?

'I'll get out. Thank you, it was lovely,' she quietly spoke.

He picked up the robe and held it open for her. His head was turned aside, giving her a modicum of privacy, but not enough. For some reason she couldn't dismiss him, as she should have done. It felt as though she were still in a romantic movie. Sure that he wasn't going to look at her naked body, she stood up. It was a disappointment and a relief, that he kept his head turned away. Of course, how could she compete with a girl his age. Cross with herself for thinking it, she quickly lifted a foot to step out of the bath.

A squeaking noise bubbled from under a foot, and she slipped, slowly falling forward. He caught her, and wrapped the gown around her shoulders. A little yelp of surprise caught in her throat. He lowered her to the floor, still holding her tight. He sat her on the edge of the bath, with the gown wrapped back to front around her.