Date: Tue, 28 Nov 2006 16:16:11 EST
From: SANIBELBOYS@aol.com
Subject: a lesson in time part 7

This story is (C)Copyright 2006, by TM. All World Wide Rights  Reserved.
This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without  prior
written
permission.


A Lesson In Time, Chapter  Seven


"Sir would desire a shower before supper?" the `angelic' looking slave
asked  me.

"Yes,  I'm in desparate need of a shower and probably a shave; seeing as how
dinners  around here are rather formal". I  replied.

After helping me to undress, the slave adjusted the shower so that it felt
nearly perfect. And then, out of a clear blue sky, the slave began  speaking.

"Would Sir care for a cleansing as well  Sir?"

I  turned around to face him, under the droplets of water flowing down our
two  bodies and asked, "What on earth would I need a cleansing  for?"

Seeing  the startled and confused look on my face, the slave replied, "Sir,
well Sir... a  lot of times after the dinner is completed, some of the free men
indulge in  shall I say extra activities. One might never know when a slave's
tongue may  just find a Master's rectum Sir. If Sir desires a cleansing, this
slave can  assure him that it will be unlike any other which Sir has probably
experienced."

I could see the pleading expression on the slave's face. If I didn't accept
his  offer for an enema, he looked as if I didn't like or appreciate him or
his  efforts to please me; his first full  assignment.

"Well alright then, since you've explained it in such a manner; how could I
refuse a beautiful boy such as  yourself."

The expression on his face went from gloom to glorious in one quick  second.

He  quickly stepped from the shower and retrieved a small plastic bag from
under the  sink. I watched him take two small bottles of liquid from the bag and
pour them  into a standard cleansing bag and then he filled the larger bag
with  water.

I  looked at him, as he got back in the shower; with him having that blank
stare on  his face. It dawned on me that he was waiting for me to kneel down on
all  fours.

As I  knelt, I watched him put the one end of the enema bag in between his te
eth,  clamping down on it, like an alligator. He slid the small nozzle into my
butt,  and it didn't feel anything like the larger one that MoMo had used on
me before  my physical  examination.

Whatever it was that the slave had added to the water, seemed to desensitize
my  sphincter and inner walls of my intestines. There was hardly any feeling
of  discomfort, and absolutely none, when the slave slid one of his small
fingers  along side the plastic nozzle and into my anal  cavity.

It  was astonishing just how well he'd been trained; trained to locate and
massage  my prostate gland while my guts were filling with the solution. I didn'
t even  care, now, that my own cock was rock solid and my balls pulsing with
anticipation.

I hardly notice, unlike with MoMo, just how much of the water and liquids he'
d  gotten into me before he slipped his finger and the nozzle out. He quickly
flicked something over the drain, and the strainer slid open; displaying a
hole  about four inches across.

He stood up  and as far back as he could, allowing me to squat over the hole
and expelled my  ass slime and the liquid flushing agent. The water from the
shower head above  made quick work of rinsing the  floor.

Two  more times, the slave administered my enema and I felt not only clean
inside,  but for some strange reason my stomach began to growl as if it was
starved.

It  was rather frustrating, having the slave bring me so close, three
different  times to having a splashing orgasm; but I simply figured that sooner or
later  I'd get rid of my  load.
After dressing,  and grooming, the slave took my dinner jacket and showed me
the `short cut' to  the main house. It was a pleasant walk, to say the least;
just having, for once,  a naked slave accompany me in this vast area filled
with slaves, free men and  sex.

The  pathway indeed was a shortcut, but not without being able to see other
slaves  following their guests along the same trail. From the quick glimpses I
got from  the other free men, you could almost feel as if you were among some
of the  richest men from all around the world. Long robes, three piece suits,
flashy  rings and watches all gave me the eerie feeling that these particular
men, had  very particular desires and needs to be filled here at Winding
Hills.

Dinner went well, and I'd never seen so much food all at once. There was
something there to appeal to even the fussiest eater, including myself. There
wasn't much talk, or should I say, much that I could understand; except for the
words of our host, Mr.  Trumbull.

After dinner, I did indeed witness some sexual escapades but nothing the
likes  of intercourse or debauchery. Mr. Trumbull didn't seem to impressed with
me, nor  did he spend to much time talking to me except for the usual questions
about how  my dad was feeling and doing. He knew that I wasn't there for his
gratification;  but to learn from his employees all that I could in the short
time I had to  spend with them. What he didn't know, was that I also had some
special things I  needed to discover, and observe just for the edification of
my  dad.

I think  just be keeping my eyes and ears opened that I'd already learned
some of the  things here that dad had asked me to look for. Some of these free
men, were  seeking slaves not to lease, but to purchase outright and that of
course is  against the law here in the  states.

I  got the feeling that most, if not all of these men had been here many
times  before. One or two of them, I overheard talking to Mr. Trumbull about
specific  slaves which they'd `ordered up' on the last visit; with Mr. Trumbull
explaining  to them that tomorrow they would be able to see the results of all
the hard  training which had been taking place just as these men had
instructed.
My eyes kept a  constant vigil about the room, as I continued to hear more
and more talks about  certain aspects of training certain slaves and how well
they would be received  back in their new home country. That probably was the
biggest give away of them  all; as no slave in the states was permitted to leave
the jurisdiction of  American  soil.

I  began to feel more than a bit uneasy, so I bid my thanks and good nights
to all  the other men and looked for my slave  boy.

It  didn't take long before he came crawling towards me, smiling that
innocent smile  he so warmly carried with  ease.

I was  deep in thought the entire way back to my cottage, even forgetting the
kind  reminder from Mr. Trumbull that my day should start no later than seven
a.m.  Like who the hell is he to tell me when my day should or will  start?

It felt so good to get out of the suit and tie, sitting at the desk making
large  amounts of notes which I'd acquired throughout the day. I almost felt as
if I  should call the office and inform them of what I'd overheard; but the
better  part of common sense told me to wait until I was on my way to the next
training  facility.

I  turned around in my seat, and the slave was kneeling alongside of the bed,
next  to his mat, so I asked of him; "So boy, do you like sleeping on a mat
every  night?"

`Sir  yes Sir. It is much better than most of the others get to sleep on and
up in the  pony barn it isn't nice at all. Those ponies are lucky if they get
to lay down  when it is time to sleep. You ever see a pony laying down
sleeping before? Well  a good healthy pony sleeps on his feet and that what all of
our ponies do too,  Sir."

I  could easily tell that the slave was just a bit over anxious to answer my
questions with a simple answer, so I pursued him even  more.

"So  tell me boy, at what age are you now, and what is your  name?"

"Sir,  this slave doesn't or never has had a name from the world Sir. My
name Sir is  616. That's my name Sir; and they tell me that I'm somewhere
between seventeen  and twenty years of age Sir. Nobody really seems to know, and it
doesn't make  much difference anyway, just so long as I can remain free,  Sir"
.

"Just  why in the world do you say you are `free' 616? How can you be free
if you are a  slave and only know a slave's  life?"

"Sir,  well Sir, compared to all the other slaves, I'm one of the lucky ones
Sir. There  are only a few like this slave, Sir. We got educated here on the
farm and we  know enough to follow orders and do a real good job too. All the
other slaves  have to be kept locked away, beaten all the time, fucked or made
into pony  slaves Sir; so me and the others think of ourselves as free  Sir."

"616,  now I want you to tell me the truth. Have you ever been kept locked
away,  beaten, fucked or made to learn the ways of a pony  slave?"

Gee  whiz, you thought I just gave the slave a million dollars. He started
off  telling me his whole life's story and before I knew it; I'd amassed a
certain  amount of sympathy for the young slave.

I put my  notepad away and locked my briefcase for the night. I stood and
went to the  bathroom to take care of my needs before retiring.

My slave  removed my clothes, and tended to them properly; as I slid into
bed.

As the  slave lay down on his mat, I turned off the last lamp; sending the
room into  darkness. I lay there processing every word, and sentence the slave
had  spoken.

My  mind drifted by to home, dad's office and everything else that was still
processing in my head. I couldn't, for the life of me begin to fall  asleep.

In  the faintest of whispers I heard, "Sir, would Sir like his slave to
comfort him  tonight?"
I  could have and probably should have seen to a proper discipline session
for this  particular slave, for speaking so my times out of turn and without due
cause;  but I didn't. Instead I beckoned the slave to my bad, and instantly
felt the  softness of his body against mine; as he wrapped his arm over my
chest and  nuzzled into my shoulder  blade.

I  rolled over, exposing myself under the finest of linens, knowing full well
that  I was telling the slave to service my cock. His head disappeared under
the sheet  and his warm, moist mouth encircled my now solid shaft. The slaves
hands began  kneading and massaging every inch of exposed skin; as if he'd had
decades of  experience.

I tossed the sheet back, exposing the two of us to the cool night air in the
cottage as I began to rub the slaves body with no where near the same
diligence  as he was providing me. I slid my hands under his arms and pulled him to
my  lips, kissing him and squeezing him as if he was my soul mate.

The slave  never once, skipped a beat, as he continued to find areas on my
body that needed  attention and/or that peaked my sexual prowess for  more.

My  hand made contact with the slave's own cock, to find it erect with a few
droplets of pre-ejaculate clinging to the head. The slave was fondling my
balls  as he stroked my cock and that was about all it took for me to make the
one  decision that would affect me for years to  come.


I rolled the slave  over, on to his back; which instantly he spread his legs
and pulled his feet up  like a well trained bed slave is supposed to do. I
guess that I could have  plowed my dick right into him, or have taken my time to
enjoy the slow, more  intimate entry into his  body.

However, my desires, and wants overpowered all reasoning; as I took the
slaves  hands away from his own feet and gently lowered his legs to the bed. I
sucked  his cock for some time, just like I had done with Shaun; but tonight was
to be  different and there was no controlling what happened  next.
With the slave's  cock all slimed with my spit, I positioned myself atop his
lithe body and  allowed my rectum to make contact with his cock. I could sense
the slave was in  a bit of a quandary, but I remained silent as to my
actions; as I lowered myself  onto his cock. It hurt and I wouldn't lie about such a
thing; but since I was in  control of how much, how fast; it made it even more
delightful as I eased just a  little in at a  time.

It  wasn't long before I was impaled completely on his naked dick and I was in
 a  whole other universe. I couldn't believe it. I finally had my life long
dream  come true. Sex with another man, be it slave or not, I was in the throws
of  eternal  ecstasy.

I  wanted, NO, I needed to know what it was like being on the bottom; so I
remained  impaled as I coached the slave over to be on top of me as I whispered
to him,  "please let me feel the power of your cock in me. Allow me the one
thing that  I've yearned for, for so  long."

His  rhythm and manner in which he fucked me was beyond comprehension. He was
able to  keep from having an orgasm for quite some time, as my sphincter
muscle began to  loosen around his  cock.

The  remainder of the time we were awake was spent in further explorations
and sexual  positions; which brought the two of us to become a joined mass of
sweaty  flesh.

It  all seemed so different in the morning; at least for me. As for the
slave, he  seemed to have accepted last nights sexual rendezvous as just part of
his  assignment.

I even allowed the slave to partake in some of the food which he had so
diligently prepared for my breakfast. Our time in the shower was one like never
before, as I even knelt before the slave not to just suck his cock, but to
drink  his golden nectar. Not being exactly what you'd call experienced; I wasn't
able  to swallow all, or much, of his piss without a small amount of  gagging.

The  slave, 616, seemed rather pleased that he had aided me in my time of
need and  desire; as he began to whistle while he scrubbed my body with a new,
different  and exciting fragrance of  soap.

I  dressed in simple jeans and a nice shirt; new sneakers on my feet, all
ready for  a busy day of learning.

I looked at  my watch and it was almost eight o'clock; but I didn't give it
my thought or  credence. Outside the cottage was a fine looking pony slave
attached to a much  simpler buggy than  yesterday.

With everything that had happened last night and this morning, I was lucky to
 even think to remember my camera, cellphone and notepad; as I climbed atop
the  buggy. From the back, looking forward, it was plain to see that this pony
slave  was a lot different looking, still fine though, as compared to the one
we had  yesterday.

This pony lacked the muscle definition and the posture of yesterdays. Our
pony  even had on those thick leather blinders and he also had a bit in his
mouth. I  stared at him for the longest time; wondering why he was so different,
until 616  spoke up.

"Sir, if this slave might Sir. Today's pony is kind of learning his way in
his  new life. Sir will have to guide him with the reins and speak words to it,
if  Sir intends on arriving at a certain destination. I don't think this pony
has  been out much since he arrived, so that's probably why they gave him to
you,  Sir. At least Sir doesn't have one of the really new `blind' ponies.
This one  can see where he is going at least, and that will make the day seem a
lot better  for Sir."

I  stared back and forth between 616 and the pony. Finally I spoke up; "are
you  planning on running alongside 616, or would you rather ride up here with
me and  be my guide for the whole  day."

There  wasn't even time for him to answer, as he leapt on top of the buggy,
squeezing  his naked butt right next to my  leg.

A  simple shake of the reins and our pony was off and heading up the trail to
the  out  buildings.

"Sir, today is the day which we normally would get any new slave arrivals, so
 perhaps Sir would care to view how they are brought in and processed. It
doesn't  really take that much time, and Sir might enjoy seeing it", my slave
said; still  with that angel like smile on his  face.

It  took some, not much, effort for me to steer the pony to the building
which 616  had pointed out. The pony seemed to be laboring, so I was glad that he
was now  able to have a break while I went inside and observed the processing
of new  slaves. I'd be willing to bet that 616 was able to find and give some
water to  our pony, quenching what thirst he may have  acquired.

As  I entered the building, the first thing which caught my attention was how
bright  the whole huge room was. There weren't any walls, doors, cubicles or
anything  else; just one huge  space.

Every  head turned in my direction, as I slowly closed the door behind me and
then I  heard someone say, "ah now that our last man has arrived we can
proceed." I knew  that I was late, but didn't think that my tardiness would
inhibit the normal day  to day activities around  here.

There  were four clothed males, of various ages, sizes and shapes; all
huddled in one  large cage. They were each handcuffed and  gagged.

One  of the overseers unlocked the cage and pulled the first slave out;
slamming the  door closed behind  him.

Another  man, dressed as all the other employees came up and between the two
of them; had  unceremoniously cut every stitch of clothing from the man's
body. I could see a  few tears forming in his face, but whatever he did to get
sent here was no one's  fault but his  own.

I'd  guess him to be about my age or a bit older. He wasn't one of those
guys who  went to the gym every day but he still wasn't what I'd call, `out of
shape'.
I guess  everybody else in the room had seen this scenario played out
hundreds of times  before; as they all stood around, whispering amongst themselves
and a few were  even pointing to the naked man's groin  area.

Before  I knew what to expect next, one of the employees took a rope and
placed it  around the slave's neck, much like a leash of sorts. With the help of
the second  employee, they un-cuffed the slaves hands and pushed them up his
back, near his  shoulder blades; using part of the rope to bind them together
and attached them  to the rope around his  neck.

One of  the men reached, from behind the new slave, and grabbed his balls;
pulling them  backwards between the slave's legs. I watched as the slave tried
to adjust the  spread of his legs to compensate for the unpleasantness of the
moment.

The man,  still holding the rope; made several loops and turns, around the
skin, between  the slave's balls and base of his slave cock. There was still
about six feet of  rope left and I quickly saw the purpose for which it was  used.

Using  the rope as a leash, they pulled the slave backwards, while the slave
had an  enormous amount of difficulty trying to keep his legs apart and to
walk in  reverse.

In  an area that somewhat resembled an open shower in a gym; the slave was
scrubbed,  shaved and scrubbed again by several naked slaves.

Another  slave, at least I thought he was a slave, took control and forced
the new slave  to kneel while getting his guts hosed out, over and over and over
again, until  only clear water was  present.

I  had managed to take a few photos of the whole process, so far; as I was
not in  the front line with all the other men. I tried to stay as inconspicuous
as  possible during this part of my day.

One finally  scrubbing to remove any remnants of ass slime and the slave was
led to another  area; where he received his steel collar and  cuffs.

There  was some discussion by the overseers about the information contained
in the  slave's information packet; but I didn't hear much of what was being
said; other  than a few  chuckles.

I  had never seen a slave have a cock and ball ring put on before, so
watching one  of the men, push the slaves nuts through a steel ring and then bend the
slave's  cock so that he could shove it through, sent a certain `tingle'
through my own  cock. Once it was snuggled against the slaves body, it made his
whole private  area stick out quite pretty  looking.

The  rope had now been totally removed from the slave, and his hands were now
simply  hooked behind his back via his new wrist cuffs. His new collar seemed
`cold',  but I was only comparing it to the collars on some of the slaves I'
d seen photos  of in school. Not even dad's slave (s) at the office had
collars. I was getting  a real live, first look, education here; and I wasn't going
to let any of it go  to waste.

The second slave taken out of the cage, and processed; was at first done much
 like the first slave except; this slave was left with a wide strip of hair
on  his head all the way back to his  neckline.

After the slave was all clean inside and out, someone shoved a butt plug up
his  ass. The whole thing looked almost real; as a long hairy tail dangled
between  his legs.  I could only imagine that this large slave was destined to be
pony trained; and my suspicions were correct, when I saw someone place a
steel  bit in the slaves mouth and then completely send the slave into total
darkness  by slipping a leather hood over his head, adjusting it so that the ends
of the  mouth bit stuck out each side of the  hood.

The  other major difference was the way they installed his collar and cuffs,
which I  hadn't seen done to the first slave. This `pony' slave had his cuffs
and collar  closed by the use of some weird looking tool; which apparently
made it  impossible to remove the steel, unless you cut it off. I was thankful
that I  didn't know of or have any friends that had gotten themselves enslaved,
as it  became clearer and clearer that not only was a man's rights stripped
away from  him but so was just about everything else that mankind could think
of to take  away.

I  continued taking picture after picture until the second slave was kneeling
 alongside of the first slave; watching and waiting for the next slave to be
brought out. But for some strange reason, it was strongly suggested to me
that  perhaps I should make my way over to the building where these four slaves
would  be receiving the physical  exams.

I  wasn't about to argue the point, as I was only a guest here, on behalf of
my  fathers company. Even though I had seen the first two slaves stripped,
cleaned  and cuffed, there was something in the air about the remaining two
slaves that  perhaps they didn't want me to be privy  too.

I  graciously heeded their recommendation and left, noting that 616 was
standing  next to our pony slave, holding up a pail of water for  him.

I  quietly told him about going to the next segment of the slave's induction
and he  walked with me up to the next building over; before he stopped and
appeared to  have the need to  speak.

"Sir,  if this slave is permitted Sir, perhaps I could help Sir understand
what might  perhaps be happening in the other building which you were not
privileged to  witness."

I  told the slave to continue and he immediately went into one of his
non-stop,  highly descriptive  commentaries.

He said that a lot of times that if they overseers detected that one or more
of  the new slaves had homosexual tendencies; that sometimes, not always, that
the  new slave's butt was shared with all of the overseers in attendance.
Sometimes  they even `tested' the new slaves to see just how far they could push
him or her  before they would cower and do just about anything that was
demanded of  them.

616 even went as far as mentioning mild torture, shock treatments, and some
things which I had no earthly idea what he was talking about. 616 said the
reason they performed such activities in the first building was so that if any
of the new slaves needed medical attention afterwards; they could be looked
after during their initial physical examination. When he told me how many torn
rectums he'd personally seen come out of the building, I was shocked and
quite  upset that such treatment of another human could be meted out in such a
horrific  manner.

Since I had arrived before any of the four slaves had; I stood there with 616
 listening to him continue his dissertation of `standard events', all the
while  looking around seeing if our conversation could have been overheard or if
I  could see any other reprehensible activities taking  place.

I  couldn't believe that my dad or anyone in his employee didn't know that
such  things were happening at this place. Surely, if they knew they would have
 conducted, or had conducted, an extensive investigation into such matters.

There was  nothing, nothing at all, in any of my college lessons that came
anywhere close  to what 616 was telling me. And I began to wonder what exactly
it was that the  last intern for the company had reported and what had happened
to him. All I  could think of was that he probably realized how severe and
demanding slave  handling, training and processing could be; and had decided to
change his  occupation.

As for 616, he continued on, as if giving me a private tutoring lesson in
slave  management; assuming on his part that everything that went on around this
place  was just a `normal' everyday, acceptable practice for slaves who had
been  brought in from the outside world.

For  himself, being a product of genetic insemination, he felt secure in his
own  world, as everything, and anything he knew was taught to him right here
at  Winding Hills. Everything in the outside world was something he felt
strange  about, except seeing the wide variety of males coming through the induction
 center. All he knew was that the men and women brought here from outside his
own  world were bad and evil people; all needing the special attention, love
and  guidance of Mr. Trumbull's employees.

To Be  Continued...

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