Date: Mon, 16 Feb 2015 12:54:16 +0000 (UTC) From: Christian Debus Subject: "Master of River's Bend" Chapter 7 Gay Male / Interracial Master of River's Bend Plantation By Jean-Christophe Part 7 "Hot Topics" Written by Jean-Christophe: February, 2015 A repository for my stories can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are products of the writer's imagination and bear no resemblance to actual persons or events. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add another's artwork or pictures" Please consider donating: Nifty needs financial support to continue bringing these stories to their readers. If you'd like to help financially, please donate to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Chapter 7 Outside, in the garden, the summer heat is stifling and the silence is broken by the shrill chirping and chittering of insects sheltering in the shade of the trees. Within the dining-room the air is oppressively heavy and Massa Charles bad-humoredly orders Ptolemy to open the French windows onto the porch in the vain hope of catching a cooling breeze. However, the only relief for the two diners is from the overhead fans worked by the stripling slave who, just minutes ago, had waved a feather fan to cool Sir Yancy as he waited in the morning-room. The fans in the dining-room are suspended from the ceiling directly above the table and consist of a heavy, silk brocade material covering an oblong frame of light timber. They are operated by the young slave who continually pulls on a cord which, through a system of ropes and pulleys, keeps the fans moving back and forth above the heads of Massa Charles and Sir Yancy to at least give the illusion of cooling them. And the soft swish-swishing sound of the fans moving back and forth provides the background for Massa Charles's and Sir Yancy's conversation. "Don't hold back boy!" Massa Charles admonishes Ptolemy. "Load up my plate. I'm famished. What about you Yancy, do you fancy a second helping of dessert?" "Yes please, Charles. It tastes great. Best I've ever eaten." "You heard Sir Yancy, boy!" As Ptolemy leans over the table to serve his Master, Massa Charles irritably delivers a stinging slap to Ptolemy's bare ass which reverberates around the room. "Snap to it!" "Now tell me Yancy - what do you think of River's Bend? Speak plainly as I often think first impressions are the true ones. As you'll understand, I don't have much opportunity to talk to free, black men who, apart from my overseers, are non-existent hereabouts. I'm interested in hearing what you think." "But Charles, I'm not really free am I? When Massa Luke .... sorry when Luke returns home he'll take me with him and I'll still be a slave won't I?" "That's very true, Yancy! But I'm hoping that Ptolemy's cousin will stay on permanently at River's Bend in which case you will too. And that will definitely influence your own status." Luke is standing behind Sir Yancy's chair and silently listens to the conversation. He's aware that Massa Charles hasn't once referred to him by his name. Always, it has been as "Ptolemy's cousin" or "my slave's relative". It is as though he is nameless. Before Massa Charles and Yancy sat down to lunch, Ptolemy had placed Luke with his back to the wall standing in the position of respect. He'd whispered to Luke that he was to remain silent and keep his head bowed out of respect for his Black betters and Luke had done as he'd been instructed. As they sit at the table, Massa Charles becomes aware that Sir Yancy lacks the social graces and is unused to eating from an expensive, porcelain china dinner setting or using silver cutlery. As the slave Nestor, he'd seldom sat at a table and he'd always eaten from a battered, tin plate using his fingers in the place of a knife and fork. Massa Charles waits silently as Ptolemy unfolds an immaculately white, damask napkin and carefully places it upon his lap. Then, Ptolemy moves to where Sir Yancy is sitting and repeats the process. Yancy's discomfiture at having a white man serve him is plainly obvious and he sits in bemused bewilderment as he tries to take his lead from Charles. He watches intently as Charles quite deliberately - but silently so as not to embarrass him - demonstrates which items of cutlery to use. However, his efforts at copying Charles are clumsy and the unaccustomed feel of a knife, fork or spoon in his hands make him awkward. As Charles watches Yancy's embarrassment, his indignation grows. He feels overwhelming pity for this young man who'd been born into slavery and whose whole life has been spent in bitter servitude to his so called white "betters". Not only had they denied him any learning, they had also ensured that his few social skills remain those of a trained, domesticated animal. Since meeting Yancy on the river wharf, Charles has been impressed by the younger man's obvious intelligence and friendliness. He'd warmed to him immediately and perhaps, Charles sees in Yancy, someone he can converse with on equal terms. The truth is that Charles sadly lacks the warm, close personal companionship of another free, black man. While it's true that he has Ptolemy, it is unthinkable that any white slave - even Ptolemy - could ever be his equal or a friend. That had never been the situation and even in their shared boyhood, Charles had been the Master and Ptolemy had always been his slave. Ptolemy exists only to serve Charles's material and bodily needs and to satisfy his considerable sexual appetites. Initially, Charles had been pleased to hear that Ptolemy's cousin, Luke had agreed to visit and would bring his young slave Nestor with him. He'd looked forward to spending time with another black man and should Luke agree to permanently stay on at River's Bend as a slave, he intends that his slave, Nestor will be manumitted and become his protege and confidante in running the plantation and its slave workforce. And as he watches Yancy's predicament, his indignation gives way to anger which he directs squarely at Luke Trevannion. "You boy!" Massa Charles shouts at Luke. "Get you white ass over here and assist Sir Yancy to choose which knife and fork to use and show how they should be held." Luke is startled by the command! He'd not expected to be summoned so soon. But instinctively he knows from the tone of Massa Charles's voice that he has to obey and to do so immediately. He breaks from his position by the wall and hurries over to Sir Yancy's side. "Yancy, I mean no offence or disrespect in ordering the white boy to assist you. It's not your fault and I hold nothing against you. This is one way he can make amends for his past, poor treatment of you. Let's see this as his first act of atonement, shall we?" Luke is taken by surprise at Massa Charles's words. It appears that Massa Charles already sees him as a slave and is treating him as such. And his first duty as Massa Charles's slave is to serve his own former slave, Nestor. Luke doesn't fully comprehend the implications of what has just happened as he assists Sir Yancy. Silently, he indicates to Sir Yancy which items of cutlery to use and demonstrates how to hold them. Sir Yancy is a quick learner and Luke is surprised by this. In his white arrogance, he's never considered whether or not a slave is an intelligent being. Such a concept never occurred to him. After all, slaves didn't think; their masters thought for them and they simply listened and obeyed. But Sir Yancy is demonstrating an ability to learn, to reason and to adjust and to do so very quickly. Now Luke stands mute besides Yancy's chair ready to assist him should the need arise. But as Yancy's confidence grows, Luke's services are no longer required and he wonders what he should do. Massa Charles hasn't issued him with any more orders and he decides that he should remain silently at Sir Yancy's side until he is dismissed. This is the strict routine which his parents' house slaves have to adopt and Luke now uses it as the pattern for his own servile behavior. As Luke watches, Ptolemy heaps a generous second serve of food onto both Massa Charles's and Sir Yancy's plates and he's suddenly aware of his own hunger. He'd eaten a very early breakfast and has had nothing since and his stomach is squirming from his hunger pangs. And the savory smell of the delicious food doesn't help and it makes his stomach grumble. He wonders when he'll be given the chance to eat but suspects it won't be for some time as Massa Charles and Sir Yancy linger over their meal drinking coffee and discuss River's Bend. "As I was asking, Yancy. What are your first impressions of River's Bend Plantation?" Yancy hesitates before answering. As a slave, he'd never before been asked his opinion on any subject and for him to have any thoughts about matters that were his owners' concerns was unthinkable. He'd learned as a child that slaves never voiced their thoughts out loud; for them do so would see them called "uppity" by their white owners and this was a whipping offence for any slave. Over the years, he'd been made to watch as his master, Robert Trevannion had whipped any slave who dared to "speak out of place." Yancy, as Nestor, had always kept his thoughts to himself out of fear of his master's whip but now he is being asked to speak as a free man and to share his thoughts. The concept of that is something he struggles with and yet he feels he must reply to the question out of respect for Charles. "Charles, I never knew there was a plantation like River's Bend where all the slaves are white. When you told me the slaves on the pier were all whiteys, I couldn't believe it." "Well Yancy there aren't many plantations like River's Bend I'm sorry to say. But there are one or two." "Have you visited them?" "Never Yancy! I seldom leave River's Bend. It's my own self-contained world and I rarely leave here and only ever when I am accompanied by Ptolemy." "Why is that Charles?" "Even though I am free, it's not safe for a black man to travel alone. There are always unscrupulous white folk like the patty-rollers who'll kidnap a lone black man, even a free one, and pass him off as a runaway slave. But when I travel with Ptolemy, white folks take it for granted that he's the master and I am his slave. And I don't correct their wrong impression as there's safety in that for me." "Then how come you know about these other plantations where the slaves are white?" "From a white trash slave-dealer, Saggory Clutterbuck who visits River's Bend twice a year with his coffle of slaves. He has told me of these other plantations which are under the control of black men and where the slaves are pure, guarantee whites who are passed off as mustees. I call the slaver 'unsavory Saggory' as that best describes his appearance and character. But he serves my purposes and twice a year he brings me some fresh whiteys and I sell him my rejects with no questions asked by either of us. He's fully aware of our true situation here at the plantation and he brings full blooded whites and presents them as mustee slaves for my selection. Those I don't buy are sold to other plantation owners hereabouts or at vendue in New Orleans." "Where does he find his white slaves, Charles?" "I don't rightly know, Yancy and really I don't need to know how he comes by them. I suspect he has them picked up off the street. I can tell a lot come from the North by their Yankee accents. However, all I know is that he visits here twice a year with his coffle and that he has what appear to be genuine ownership papers for all his slaves. If I take a fancy to one of his slaves, I don't ask for his background only for the papers that 'prove' he's a mustee slave." "Then most of your slaves know they're white and not really slaves?" "Yes, Yancy!" Massa Charles chuckles. "I love the irony of that. Imagine how they must feel knowing they are really free whites forced to serve me as my slaves. And that there'll no redemption for them; they will remain slaves until they die. Here on the plantation, they soon learn to work hard and not displease me or I'll ship them off to be sold in the slave- markets at Natchez or New Orleans. They really fear that; I suppose it is better the devil they know than the one they don't." "I never thought I'd ever see a white man serving as a slave, Charles. But I like it!" "Me too, Yancy! I've always had a notion that whites are well-suited to serve as slaves. I believe it's in their character to do so even if they're not aware of it. Sometimes a white is honest with himself and he'll admit to that fact and submit. Much as my boy Ptolemy did over twenty years ago. I suspect many a 'Southern gentleman' secretly hankers to kneel naked before a black man and service his cock. It's ingrained in some of them I'm sure of that." "Charles, were you surprised when Ptolemy asked to be made your slave?" "Not at all Yancy! I'd always known he had a slave's nature from the time we were small boys together. Even then, he was my willing slave and once he inherited River's Bend we formalized it. He set me free and I enslaved him and it's been that way ever since." Do you think Massa Luke is like Ptolemy?" "Yes I do Yancy! And Yancy, you must stop referring to him as 'Massa'. At River's bend there are no white masters only slaves. Always remember that, as long as you are here, you are the superior of any white - even your former master, Ptolemy's cousin, Luke." "Then what should I call him, Charles?" "We'll get to that shortly, Yancy. But in the meantime we'll call him 'boy' until I give him a proper slave name. That is if he decides to stay on at River's Bend." Then turning towards Luke he asks directly. "Have you decided, boy? Are you going to spend time here with us?" Massa Charles's questions take Luke by surprise. Of course, he's been standing mute listening intently to the conversation between Massa Charles and Sir Yancy. He's not learned anything new from what Ptolemy had previously told him. He already knows the truth about the plantation and Massa Charles's theories about some whites wanting to be slaves to Black masters is hardly surprising given Ptolemy's situation. And doesn't his own desire to surrender his freedom - however temporary that might be - to Massa Charles serve to re- enforce the theory. At first, Luke had resented assisting Sir Yancy at the table but as the luncheon progressed, his long held fantasy about serving a Black Master has taken on a new focus. And Massa Charles's reference to him as "boy' and his stated intention to give him a "proper slave name" should he decide to stay on at River's Bend emphasizes that focus and gives it meaning. What had been merely figments of his overactive imagination have become real and he is actually serving as a slave to these two Black men. And now Massa Charles is asking him to formalize the arrangement. Momentarily, Luke's mind struggles with his unfulfilled desires and his lingering reluctance to give up his freedom. It becomes an emotional battle between practical commonsense and his sexuality. Putting it crudely, it is an argument between his heart and his cock and not surprisingly, his cock overrules his heart - how could it be otherwise - and in a low, trembling voice he answers. "Yes Massa, I would like to stay on at River's Bend as your slave." "Speak up, boy! Sir Yancy and I didn't hear you!" "YES MASSA," Luke answers in a louder, clearer voice, "I WOULD LIKE TO STAY ON AT RIVER'S BEND AS YOUR SLAVE." Luke trembles with the emotion of the moment. He is surprised at how easy it was to submit and to acknowledge Massa Charles as his Master. The honorific "Massa" rolled naturally off his tongue and he feels excitement at having used it for the first time. It is as though a great load has been lifted from his young shoulders and he is swamped by a newfound sense of freedom. But how can that be. How can he find freedom in servitude? Nevertheless, his mood is euphoric and he now better understands all those things Ptolemy had spoken of earlier. And having given Massa Charles his answer, Luke waits for his new Master's further instructions. "Yancy, is it my imagination or is it damnably hot in here?" Massa Charles asks as he wipes the perspiration from his brow. "No, you're right, Charles. It is very warm." Charles looks to the ceiling and sees that the two fans are barely moving. In the lethargic heat, the young slave is dozing off and neglecting his duties. Angrily, Massa Charles retrieves a heavy leather strap lying on the table and moving to where the slave stands, he applies it to his shoulders. "Wake up, damn you!" Massa Charles shouts at him. "Keep those fans moving." Startled out of his stupor, the slave yelps with the strap's unexpected pain. But Massa Charles ignores his pleas and strikes out several times at the slave's unprotected ass with his strap. Tearfully, the slave resumes his duties with renewed vigor. "That's much better." Charles comments as he returns to his place at the table. "Yancy one thing you need to understand about white slaves is that they are naturally shiftless, lazy creatures and you need to be forever watching to see that they give you their best effort." "Charles, I thought you said whites make good slaves?" "And so they do, Yancy. So they do! But as I said you need to watch them otherwise they'll take advantage of your good nature. Yancy, I've learned over the years a white slave only learns through hard training, strict control and stern discipline. Fear should motivate a white slave's actions. Fear of his master's righteous anger at his shortcomings and fear of the justifiable, harsh punishment he'll receive for any mistakes he makes. A slave's mind needs to be centered on those two things. A white slave works best if he knows that he'll be punished severely for all his mistakes or failures. Showing a white slave any kindness only confuses him and you run the risk that he'll see your kindness to him as a weakness of which he can take advantage. And I make sure my overseers' whips apply these principals to my all white slaves. Keep that in mind during your time at River's Bend, Yancy." "I will Charles! And this applies to your house-slaves too? Even Ptolemy?" "My house-slaves are subject to the same rules and treatment as my field-slaves. I make no distinction between them. And yes, even Ptolemy lives under those rules too. Isn't that so boy?" "Yes Massa." Ptolemy replies. "You treat me like you treat all your slaves, Massa. I'm no different to them, Massa." "Now where were we? Ahh yes, Ptolemy's cousin has just agreed to stay on at River's Bend? Is that so, boy?" "Yes Massa." Luke re-affirms his decision. "And you are aware of all that means? Has Ptolemy explained to you that you'll spend your time here serving me as my naked slave?" "Yes Massa, Ptolemy has explained all that to me." "And you still want to stay on at River's Bend?" "Yes Massa - with your permission of course, Massa." "Then you have it and your decision pleases me. All that now remains is to have you shuck down so that I can inspect my new property before I have my vet give you a full examination. Move into the center of the room where Sir Yancy and I can get a better look at you as you undress. But before we get to that there's another matter to attend to. Ptolemy?" "Yes Massa?" "Those whip marks on your ass. Who put them there and why did you receive them?" "Massa, they were put there by Boss Edward because I was wasting your time by dawdling." "And were you wasting my time, Ptolemy?" "Massa, Boss Edward said I was, Massa. And that I was to tell you he caught me at it, Massa." "Are you disputing Boss Edward's opinion, boy?" Massa Charles asks angrily. "Are you suggesting he is wrong?" "No Massa. I mean no disrespect to Boss Edward, Massa. He told me I was dawdling and wasting time and Boss Edward is always right, Massa." "It sounds very much like you were contradicting him, Ptolemy. Now tell me how you wasted my time?" "Massa, I took Cousin Luke into the fields so that he could see the slaves working close-up. That's where Boss Edward saw me. He whupped my ass and bawled me out for wasting time, Massa." "And that was after I'd instructed you to return to the house with your cousin? So not only did you waste my time but you disobeyed me too. Am I correct?" "Yes Massa!" Ptolemy answers contritely. "Then I must punish you for disobeying my instructions, wasting my time and contradicting Boss Edward. Go to my study and fetch me my canes." "Yes Massa! Ptolemy hurries from the room to do Massa Charles's bidding and returns almost immediately with an ornamental, oblong box. He kneels in front of Massa Charles and holds the box out at arms' length before him and waits patiently for his Master's next move. The box is both narrow and shallow and Luke is reminded of the musicians' cases that flautists use to carry their instruments. The case is approximately four feet in length and it is made from highly polished, dark timber with a hinged lid inlaid with an intricate pattern of ebony and ivory. Massa Charles opens the lid to reveal four, cruel canes resting on their bed of plush, red velvet. Luke shudders at the sight of the canes and contrasts their ugliness with the beauty of the box in which they are housed. Luke looks to see what affect this is having on Ptolemy but his expressionless face shows no emotion. But he does detects a nervous trembling in the slave's arms and senses his fear of his imminent punishment by his nervous, shallow breathing. Almost ritualistically, Massa Charles goes about choosing a cane. Methodically, he removes each cane from the case and in a limbering up exercise; he swishes it through the air. The sibilant hiss of the canes both chills and excites Luke and he places himself in his cousin's position as he waits for his Master's final choice. Luke wonders about Ptolemy's thoughts? Is he afraid? In his place, Luke knows he'd be absolutely terrified. Finally, Massa Charles make his choice and decides on a vicious, rattan cane. "We'll go with this one!" he announces. "Ptolemy, assume the caning position." Standing at one end of the room, is a sturdily constructed, low table made of solid timber - possibly of mahogany. Ptolemy clambers onto its top and assumes the all fours position with his head bowed low and his ass pointing towards Massa Charles. Grimly, he grasps both sides of the table in a white-knuckle grip to steady himself under the cane's cruel onslaught. He also moves his knees apart - obviously he isn't a stranger to this position - and instinctively, he knows exactly what his Master expects of him. Luke has an unimpeded view of Ptolemy's rear end. The spreading of his cousin's knees has the effect of opening up his ass-crack to Luke's scrutiny and he glimpses his low hanging balls between his thighs. Even as Luke watches, he sees the fear-induced shrinking of his balls as they retreat upwards to the safe sanctuary of Ptolemy's body. Lasciviously, Luke watches the nervous puckering of Ptolemy's anus and sees the wrinkled striations of his sphincter folding and unfolding like the unfurling petals of some exotic flower. Lewdly, Luke wonders about the tightness of Ptolemy's ass-hole and of its capacity to give pleasure to Massa Charles cock. Massa Charles walks over to the table and runs his hands over his slave's body. He strokes Ptolemy's back much as one does with a favorite dog before lovingly taking an ass-cheek in each hand and gently kneading them. He runs a finger up the dividing cleft between the buttocks and mischievously tickles the pulsating sphincter at its center. The slave quivers under his Master's touch but no words are spoken. Massa Charles laughs at his slave's trembling and reaches between his thighs and gently rolls each of his balls between his forefinger and thumb before he tucks them out of the way of the cane. The message from Massa Charles's actions is subliminal. By the "laying on of his hands" Massa Charles asserts his ownership of his slave's body and his right to do with as he will. And Luke senses Massa Charles's pride of ownership of Ptolemy. It is a unique bond between a Master and his slave and Luke will come to understand and appreciate it in the coming days as Massa Charles moves to establishes his ownership over him too. Finally, Massa Charles dismissively delivers a stinging slap to Ptolemy's upturned ass. The loud sound of his hand making contact with the slave's naked flesh echoes throughout the room and signals Massa Charles is ready to begin with his slave's punishment. "Let's begin!" Massa Charles's words cut into Luke's thoughts. "Ptolemy your offences are serious enough to warrant a severe punishment. What have you to say?" "Massa, I am sorry I offended you and I beg for your forgiveness. Please Massa punish me as you see fit and then forgive me, please Massa?" "I shall indeed punish you. You are to receive ten strokes of the cane. Five for disobeying my order by not returning directly to the house and five for wasting my time and disputing my overseer's judgment." Luke sees the trembling of Ptolemy's body as he crouches on the table top and hears his fear reflected in the hoarseness of his voice as he thanks Massa Charles. "Thank you, Massa. Thank you for your correction of your slave, Massa." "Boy, you are to count each stroke and you have my permission to cry out your pain should you feel the need to do so." "Thank you, Massa!" Massa Charles positions himself behind Ptolemy but he's not yet ready to apply the cane to his body. There is a cruel ritual to be played out before the first stroke cuts into the slave's bare buttocks. Massa Charles mischievously swipes the cane through the air. He swings it down towards the waiting ass-cheeks but stops just short of making contact with them. The sibilant hiss of the cane causes the hapless Ptolemy to flinch in anticipation of the pain that doesn't happen. Obviously, Massa Charles is playing a cruel game of cat and mouse with Ptolemy and as he watches Luke is thankful that he's not in his cousin's place! Yet, Luke has to admit that he is mightily aroused by what he's witnessing. The obvious tenting at the front of my trousers - similar to the tenting that Massa Charles and Sir Yancy are sporting - attests to this. And even the young slave, operating the fan, watches with salacious interest and sports a massive erection. Massa Charles continues to torment his hapless slave. Each time, he stops just short of applying the cane to Ptolemy's upturned ass cheeks and the slave's body relaxes just a little as the expectant pain doesn't eventuate. The slave's sigh of relief at the temporary reprieve is audible throughout the dining-room. Massa Charles continues to play with Ptolemy until he doesn't hold back and finally the cane viciously slashes across the slave's upturned ass. The sickening sound of the cane cutting into naked flesh is followed by a yelp of pain from Ptolemy who counts out the first of his ten strokes of the cane. "AHH! Oh Massa! Oh please, Massa, that's stroke number one Massa. Oh Massa, that hurt! Thank you Massa." From where Luke is standing, he sees the angry stripe added to Boss Edward's two showing livid red against the curved perfection of Ptolemy's buttocks. Soon it is joined by another and then another until all ten strokes have been delivered by Massa Charles. Each strike is followed by Ptolemy's anguished cry, the counting of the stroke and his expression of gratitude to Massa Charles for a lesson learnt. And yet he never pleads for mercy; he is conditioned to the fact that once Massa Charles has spelt out a slave's punishment there can be no reprieve, no retraction of the sentence or lessening of the punishment. It is also a lesson that Luke is to learn over the coming weeks and months of his stay at River's Bend. Massa Charles walks over to where Ptolemy crouches on the table top and examines his handiwork. The slave winces as his Master examines his striped ass and runs his hands over the raised, welted flesh. Satisfied that no skin has been broken - and therefore no ointments or unguents are needed to assist in the healing - Massa Charles slaps his slave's ass and orders him down from the table. Clambering down, Ptolemy stands and ruefully rubs his painfully throbbing ass as he waits for his Master's next instruction. "Ptolemy, leave your ass alone. And fetch Sir Yancy and me some fresh coffee. QUICKLY NOW!" As Ptolemy hurries from the room, Massa Charles asks Sir Yancy for his reaction to his slave's caning. "Tell me Yancy, were you affected by my slave's caning? Have you any thoughts on the matter?" "Well Charles, I guess my first thought is that it was severe." "Indeed it was severe and it needed to be. But Yancy, a Master has to be cruel to be kind to his slaves. As I mentioned before, a slave only learns respect for this Master through fear and he acquires the total, unquestioning obedience to his Master's wishes through punishment. Pain is a powerful motivator when it comes to training a slave. I hope you can understand that, Yancy and can apply it to my slaves during your stay at River's Bend." Ptolemy soon returns with a pot of freshly brewed coffee which he serves to Massa Charles and Sir Yancy. The delicious aroma tantalizes Luke; what wouldn't he give for a cup at this moment. But he's not to know that he has enjoyed his last taste of coffee. For the duration of his stay at River's Bend he, in common with all the other slaves, will only ever be given water to drink. As Charles and Yancy savor their coffee, Massa Charles once more focuses his attention on Luke. "Yancy, I think it time to unwrap my new acquisition and see what the outer coverings conceal.' Then turning to Luke, Massa Charles instructs him. "Right boy, let's see you naked. Shuck off those clothes!" To be continued ......................