"All right class, settle down!" Mr Winthrop bellowed. "This year the school board has added a curriculum guideline for all subjects to include social interaction components. I'm going to hand you each a numbered envelope. Some of you are going to be slaves, some of you will be slave owners in a fictitious southern town..."
He continued on, explaining how we were supposed to work together and would be graded as a team. I smiled to myself and wished that I'd be a slave owner, and that the hottest chicks in class would be my slaves.
A few minutes later I was opening an otherwise unmarked envelope informing me I had a wife, five slaves and a large plantation to manage. I sauntered over to the corner of the room that was to represent my farm, according to the little map in the envelope. Dawn Warren, class ditz, was already there being talked at by Beth Silverson.
Dawn was ok looking. Nice tits & booty, but no fashion sense and she didn't do much in the way of makeup or hairstyling. Beth on the other hand always wore name-brand clothing, tasteful makeup, and was always primping her hair. She had no rack to speak of, which was kind of a chip on her shoulder.
"Listen Dawn, I'm just saying it sounds like a lot of work, and wouldn't you rather," she lowered her voice, "trade roles?"
"We're allowed to trade roles?" I asked loudly, enjoying the way Beth managed to jump and cringe at the same time.
"Andy, be quiet!" Beth hissed. "Do you want the teacher to hear you?"
"So what? I'm not the one breaking the rules this time, am I?"
"There's a rule against trading?" Dawn asked looking from Beth to me and back.
"Well, yeah." Beth ground out. "But I thought it might be easier for you if you had a role better suited to, to your personality."
"That role being?" I asked, already guessing the answer.
"Upstairs maid." Beth said, blushing faintly. Mr Winthrop had spent one memorable class explaining, without being explicit about it, that slave house-servants were often used sexually by their owners once their legal heirs survived childhood.
"Ida know Beth, I bet you'd look awful cute in a french maid outfit." I glanced at her chest. "Might need some padding though."
"You're disgusting! Anyway, that kind of outfit wouldn't be correct for the era." She crossed her arms over her lack of a chest.
"Maybe I'll start a trend then."
"Wait, you're 'Master Johnson'?! Mr Winthrop!" Beth hurried off.
Dawn looked at me, then down at her envelope.
"I, um, I think I'm supposed to play your wife?"
"Cool! We'll make a good couple; you leave running the plantation to me, and I'll leave raising our children to you."
"I um, think they're already grown?"
"Then just relax and order the slaves to do things for you; fetch sodas, bring you snacks, rub your feet. Whatever."
"Oh, um, and they'll do that?" She was slightly flushed, clearly the idea of people doing what she told them to appealed to Dawn.
"Oh god. Andrew Rodgers, tell me you're not Master Johnson." Claire Meadows, Sonya Nikkish, and Erica Sorenson were standing behind me, three of the hottest girls in class. Sonya and Erica were a clique all to themselves and had managed to take most of the same classes together each year since we were freshmen. They were the biggest cock-teases in school, and locker-room rumor had it they were actually gay for eachother. Claire was class vice-president, on the speech team, and in the running for valedictorian. She was also smoking hot.
"That I am. And you ladies are?" They were a bit taken aback is what. All three were used to guys getting tongue-tied and flustered by their perfect skin and tight clothes, and in Claire's case her cutting wit. But ever since it really sunk in that with my ring I was superior to pretty much everyone I found it a lot easier to talk to girls.
"Sonya and I are field hands, we don't even get names, unless you give us some." Erica was pouting and had her arms crossed under her boobs, "accidentally" enhancing her cleavage.
"Claire?" I asked smiling.
"House maid." She snapped back at me. "But don't get any ideas, outside this assignment I won't even acknowledge you exist."
"What's in your packet?" Sonya asked. "Ours just say to follow your orders and list a bunch of rights we don't have."
She was sticking her chest out a bit too, and managing to look at me through her eyelashes. Good to know at least she and Erica understood how to behave towards their owner.
"Let's wait until everyone gets here." I said. "That way we'll all be on the same page."
"The same sinking ship you mean." Claire spat out. "I just hope you mismanage your plantation fast enough that you have to sell me to a better owner before..." she trailed off.
"Before what?" I asked, honestly curious what she thought I'd do.
Claire glanced at her packet and blushed. "Before you get a swelled head from being called 'Master'."
"That's what she said!" Dawn piped up.
"Ha! Good one." I gave Dawn a high-five as Claire's blush deepened and she scowled at Dawn.
Mr Winthrop walked over, an angry looking Beth and Jim Harner, one of the class brains trailing behind him.
"For the last time Ms. Silverson, whatever your personal issues with slavery and with Mr Rodgers, this is an educational exercise and accounts for one fifth of your grade. If you refuse to participate I can guarantee however well your tests go you'll fail this class." He glanced at me and the envelope in my hand.
"Andrew, I hope you were paying attention. Running a plantation is a bit more complicated than buzz-wording your way through essay questions."
"No problem Mr Winthrop, I've been playing SimCity since I was a kid."
He grunted at peered over his glasses at Sonya and Erica. "Let me see your envelopes." He said sternly and checked them against the list on his clipboard. "Amazing as it seems, you managed to wind up together on the same project, legitimately for once. Do not make me regret not reassigning you to different groups."
"No Mr Winthrop!" They chorused together as he turned and left.
"What'd you draw, Harner?" I asked.
"Indentured servant. I'm Tom O'Mallay and I oversee your field hands."
"Well they're certainly a handful, not like the house slaves." I didn't need to look to know Beth was getting ticked off again. Jim blushed a bit, embarrassed by my double entendre.
"More like two handfuls." Sonya said, vamping for Jim as much as for me.
"Overflowing handfuls." Erica added, leaning forward to rub the side of her boob against Sonya's shoulder.
"Eww!" Claire and Beth both rolled their eyes. "Do you have to do that? It's bad enough we have to call Andy 'Master' with out you two driving any rational thought out of his head."
"Claire, I wish you'd stop carping and get into character, the better we do at this the better off all our grades will be." I pointed at Sonya, "your slave name is Latisha," then at Erica "your slave name is Tawanda, and I hope 'Tom' here doesn't have to discipline you too often, or you might start liking it!" I added with a smile. Jim was beet red from his hairline clear down to his chest.
"Oh no Master Johnson, we'll be good slaves!" Erica/Tawanda said, clasping her hands together in front of her, incidentally forcing her tits to bulge up out of her blouse.
"Very, very obedient slaves!" Sonya/Latisha added, adopting the same breath-taking pose. Jim was making little strangled noises beside me and if he wasn't getting a raging boner it was only because he'd already shot his wad.
"Well I sure hope you slaves are ready to serve your Master and Mistress, right Dawn?"
"Um, I think my name's supposed to be Annabelle. Do you say all the 'E's in that?"
"No Anabelle, just the first one."
I glanced over at Claire, who blushed slightly when she realized I was looking at her.
"I am ready to serve you Master." she said, looking down at her feet.
"Dang girl! Forget speech, you ought to try out for drama club!" Sonya said enthusiastically. "Then you can be a thespian like Erica and me!"
"All right slaves! And wife," I added nodding at Dawn who blushed a bit, "We need to meet and go over all the information in our packets. Any suggestions?"