He didn't wear anything hockey-related, and didn't even seem to care much for the game. He kept his hands in his jacket pockets during the whole game. But he smiled a lot, so I guess he wasn't dragged forcefully into the arena. The puck hadn't even been dropped, she already seemed really excited. I didn't know if there was anything special about that game, but there was definitely something special for me. She just sat tight, on the edge of her seat, and grabbed the seat with her hands on each side of her thighs, while leaning forward a little. I leaned back and took her in. She was petite, but didn't look fragile. Her back was curving forward, so it was hard to tell how good her ass looked, but I would have loved a squeeze right there and then. I looked at the generous, yet not exaggerated, swell of her breast. Her legs looked great, confined in her skinny jeans. Her eyes were fixed on the center of the ice, and her jaw muscles seemed be flexing. I could see just enough of her neck. It had taken three generations to work our way up to this, and without daddy, there was no one else who could cover the fee. Even if I was able to get a job and somehow scrape by, my assets belonged to my family until I turned twenty five. They’d be just as subject to forfeiture as the rest. ‘There is, however, another alternative.’ Slowly, almost reluctantly, he pushed a tablet forward. Scanning the page, I recoiled from it at once. A bill of enslavement! He couldn’t possibly be serious. ‘I know it’s a shock, but I urge you to consider our school’s conservatorship program. You would continue to live here, attending classes until your graduation. You would have certain rights, in terms of meaningful employment once you’ve graduated. In fact, most graduates are able to buy themselves back within ten years.’ I’d heard of it, everyone had. There were always a few in every year. The ‘lucky’ handful of lower class students who’d navigated the necessary prep schools without getting saddled.
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