Date: Sat, 23 Dec 2006 08:04:40 EST
From: SANIBELBOYS@aol.com
Subject: a lesson in time part 12

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  Twelve

I hadn't been able to catch up on my notes, let alone have time to  actually `
investigate' all which my dad had mentioned to me; but I was leaving  Windy
Hills Slave Training Center a wiser, more experienced and  wealthier person.
I had the entire back seat of the Limo strewn with my papers, notes,
itinerary and countless other smaller things as I vainly attempted to get myself
organized for the second leg of my trip.
At least I was able to get the batteries on the digital camera charging,
along with my cellphone, during the ride into the airport. My mind kept going to
`616' and how he'd really impressed me with his obedience and knowledge of
his  world. There was something about him, much like Shaun, which I couldn't
get out  of my mind. I felt comfortable with my own reasoning that the two
slaves  actually seemed happy, not to mention healthy, in their world, serving men
such  as myself. I mean, who wouldn't; three meals a day, a nice place to
sleep, and  ample opportunities for man to man sex, would keep just about any male
happy and  content.
For now though, I had to put my thoughts and feelings about Windy Hills  to
rest, as I needed to focus on the rest of today. I had a sizeable amount of
time remaining before the limo reached the airport and I wanted to make the most
 of it, so that I might be able to relax on the  plane.
I finished my notes on Windy Hills and began to read the folder on my  next
destination. There weren't too many photographs of this place, but the ones
which were supplied to me were enough to give me an idea of what I was in for.
For the most part, my next stop was going to be at a relatively new slave
center. It hadn't started out as one to reckon with, but in less than two years,
this place had become one of the premiere slave sites in the state of
Arkansas.
Their main source of income comes from the state itself. Arkansas has a very
strict code of sentencing criminals,  and a majority of those convicted of a
crime (except capital) pass through  Hickory  Hollow Indenturement Center. So
it was safe in assuming that  there weren't any murderers or terrorist there;
just the run of the mill  criminal who might be sentenced  anywhere from three
to ten years of  servitude.
Most of those who are sent there are simply housed and used as common  slave
laborers. It looked as if it was reminiscent of the old time southern  prison
camps, with the exception of the clothing  issued.
My cellphone rang and upon answering it, discovered my favorite person  Mrs.
Mudfart on the other end. "Kevin, good morning", she started out sounding  so
jovial. "I'm assuming that you're on the way to the airport and that
everything went well at Windy Hills. I just needed to remind you that once  you've
gotten settled in down at Hickory Hollow, you'll need to download your  camera,
so that we can process and evaluate the photo's that you took. What may  seem
normal to an untrained eye, such as yours, just might reveal something more
morally unwarranted to a trained person. You'll be staying in the main house
there, and will have open access to a computer for your use; so use it to send
 us the pictures, just like I showed you. So tell me, did you have any major
problems at Windy Hills?"
I could have spouted off about my first `milking', but for some strange
reason I had the idea the she and probably all of the executives had either
heard about it or had seen the video already. "No, nothing went wrong. I had an
enjoyable time and everyone was rather kind and polite towards me. I have seen
and learned so much there that I'm all excited and pumped up ready to get to
my  next assignment.  I'm sure that they  will allow me access to their center
just as Mr. Trumbull allowed me at  his."
"Excellent Kevin, we are all so proud of you for all that you are doing  for
the company and I know that your father is extremely proud of you. Oh, hang
on a second, your mother just came waltzing down the hall, and I think she'd
like to say hello."
I nearly wanted to choke, but I knew that mom would be rather pissed if I  at
least didn't say hello to her.
"Hi son, how are you? Everything going as you may have expected it to go  so
far?"
"Hello mother. Yes things went  very well and I've followed all the
guidelines everybody had set for me and I've  seen and heard a great deal. I'm almost
at the airport so I can't talk long."  Gosh I hated to lie to her, but I
just wasn't up to hearing her go on and on  about how important my journey would
be.
"Well Kevin, you and I need to have a heart to heart talk soon, so when  you
get settled in I expect you to call me right away. There are a few things  you
and I need to discuss, and I won't except any excuses from you as to why you
couldn't or didn't call."
"Mom, you make it sound as if I've done something wrong. What am I  supposed
to have done wrong now? I haven't even been home for sis to accuse me  of
anything", I said in a perturbed tone of voice.
"No son, you aren't being accused of any wrongdoing. I just need to talk  to
you, that's all. It's nothing serious but it is something that your father
and I need to get resolved in our own minds. I think that if you would
contemplate on your days there at Windy Hills, you might have some idea of what  it
is that I want to discuss with you."
"Okay mom, when I get done with my notes and other stuff I'll call you
back, but it probably won't be until after supper some time. So tell me, how's
sis doing? You still riding her hard?"
There was an eerie silence over the phone, which I hadn't anticipated,  and
mom's voice seemed to changed as she began speaking. "Kevin, I want you to
know that I've tried my best, as had your father to see that your sister had
everything she needed to grow up to become a well respected lady in our
community. You saw the tip of the iceberg just before you left. The same day  that
you left, your sister became very irate with the house staff and I couldn't
control her. She almost hit JoJo and MoMo with a paddle which had been stored in
the hall closet for years. I had to send her to her room, still naked and
after  I'd locked her in, she started destroying her room. I had no choice but to
call  your father and he sent Mr. Alderton and a couple of men over to
extract her  from the house."
"Mom, she's alright isn't she? Mr. Alderton didn't do anything to hurt  her
did he?". I asked with grave concern.
"No son, Mr. Alderton was quite nice, considering she spit on him, called
him names and even tried to hit him with one of the lamps next to her bed.  That'
s why I'm downtown at this ungodly hour of the morning. I should be home
resting and watching the news, but oh no, I have to come down here very morning
and supervise your sisters treatments."
"Mom, TREATMENTS! What kind of treatments? She's okay isn't  she?"
"Settle down Kevin, your sister will be just fine in a day or two. In  fact
right now she is having her physical examination and I was just on my way  down
to see how it was progressing. You know how your mother worries about you
two children. Your dad and I don't want her to come afoul of the ways of the
world and the mean spirited people within. She'd be much better off if she was
to mature nicely, like you did."
"Well if you say she's alright, then I guess there is nothing I can do.
Tell her from me that she just needs to buckle down and get with the program of
growing up. She has the makings of becoming a fine addition to society when
she  finishes college like me."
"Yes Kevin, I'll pass along your words to her; but she will take a bit of
work to get her to `buckle down' as you put it. Your father is contemplating
keeping her out of school for one or two semesters if she doesn't start to
conform. Perhaps your father has a point about having her see how the other half
 lives, but that is something which we'll have ample time to discuss over the
 summer. For right now, your sister is in capable hands down on G3 and I'm
sure  that the ladies there have enough experience and common sense to know
exactly  what your sister needs to get along well with others, including members
of her  own family. I've got to go now Kevin, so please do call me tonight like
a good  dear, won't you."
I was about to comment, but I got the click and the tone in my ear;
indicating that mom had simply hung up the phone. I started to think about G3 in  dad'
s building, but I didn't want to ruin my day, so I carefully raised my hand;
indicating to the shadowed figure sitting opposite me that I desired his
attention.
`616' eased himself off of the seat and knelt between my outstretched  legs.
He gently withdrew my sore cock and began to smoother it with lavish  kisses,
wet and with great affection. I knew that it would be awhile before I  could
get my abused dick to stand erect; but just having his mouth around it,  made
the remainder of the ride most enjoyable.
I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, recalling the
times that he and I had been intimate with each other. I could visualize the
times when I had his cock in my own mouth as well as exchanging sperm with one
another. But when I thought about my butt, it seemed to flex on its own; after
being ravaged by so many men the last time I graciously accepted their offer
to  provide more semen. I can only say that I'm thankful for the drugs which
were  injected into my body, as I don't know how many men, free or slave, that
took  advantage of my mouth and/or ass. Even though my pucker hole still hurt
during  enema times, at least my scrotum had returned to its normal size,
albeit very,  very sore.
`616' had the entire length of my cock deep within his mouth and throat,
which sent a pleasant shiver down my spine; as I eased myself up off of the seat
 and slid my pants down. The slave's lips felt different now; now that the
men  had shorn all of my pubic hairs off. I actually like the feeling, as it
provided  a more sensual and exciting blowjob.
Just as we turned onto the airport access road, my cock spewed forth it's
parting gift for `616'. I pulled him up, so he was kneeling upright and I
leaned  down and forward to kiss him one last time. The taste of my own sperm was
intoxicating.
I got myself all presentable, just as the back door of the limo opened up
and with the onslaught of the bright sunlight, I could see the tears in the
slave's eyes.
"Thank you `616' for allowing me the privilege to explore just not your
body and soul but for showing me who and what I am. I'll never forget your
kindness nor your love,"
"Yes Sir, thank you Sir",  `616' said as his head fell down. "I'll miss
Sir more than anything in the world  Sir. I can only think of Sir and how he
made me feel as well. It would have been  an honor and a privilege to have become
the slave of such a fine master, such as  Sir."
Lifting the sobbing slave's head, I used my thumbs to rub away the tears  and
then for the final time, gave him a passionate kiss good-bye. "I won't
forget you `616', I promise", was all that I could manage to say, as a lump came
to my throat.
I stood curbside, watching the limousine drive away, knowing that `616'  was
riding back to Windy Hills alone, and sad and probably for the first time in
his young life, heartbroken.
I had a relatively short two and a half hour plane ride to Little Rock. I
finished my  notes, arranged my paperwork, reviewed the last few pages about my
next stop and  called it quits for the remainder of the ride.
Being alone, like that, allowed me to re-visit all of what I'd seen and
heard for the last five days. It seemed rather fulfilling that I'd actually seen
and done more than I probably expected.
I knew that Hickory Hollow was going to be a real eye opener, compared to
Windy Hills but I was anxious to see it and how the two compared, if at all. I
was going to see nothing but slaves and more slaves. I was going to get a
first  hand look at how the `lease-hire' programmed worked. This program was a
mainstay, the backbone of the countries indenturement program and it was this
program which my dad had twinked into a fine working establishment; one in
which  I held high hopes to become a part of, just like my  brother.
The countryside looked bleak and densely wooded, as I gazed out the  window
while the plane descended. I only saw a fraction of what was Little Rock, but
nothing  more; as the tires jerked and chirped against the concrete  runway.
Not like before, but rather plain, a man was standing there when I walked
down to baggage claim; holding a hand written placard with `Kevin Latimore'
scribbled on it. At first I thought it was the heat that filtered into my nose
but it was the stench of the man who was holding the sign. "We don't get many
 visitors up here, `cepting a few of them state boys ever once in a blue moon"
  the man said to me; allowing me to see that he was in dire need of some
form of  dental plan.
I followed the man, carrying my own suitcase and briefcase. At least the
pickup truck was nice and clean; apparently cleaned and polished for my benefit.
I remained silent the entire way, as did the driver. The ride, which I'd
hoped  wouldn't take long; lasted just over an hour.
The countryside was actually beautiful, with its variety of trees and
wildflowers; and the rolling hills seemed to break up any chance of  monotony.
Once we'd turned off the main road, I was instantly taken back to the
colonial days. Row after row of what appeared to be nothing but barns on either
side of the road.
It was easy to see the slaves who were out working, if pulling heavy  carts
and wagons is considered working. The only thing they wore appeared to  just be
socks and boots. All were naked and shaved. I could see the sunlight  bounce
off of what must have been body jewelry or something metallic on a lot of
them.
The closer we got to the main house, the prettier it all became. There  must
have been at least one of every imaginable flower, plant and shrub that  grew
in these parts. The main house was a `stately mansion' to put it  mildly.
When the truck came to a stop, a well dressed man was there to greet me.  He
introduced himself, simply, as Shaun; and my mind instantly went back to
thinking about the `Shaun' and dad's office building.
>From my notes, I knew that Shaun was the `manager' of Hickory Hollow and
that he was a very stern and strict man to deal with, but that he also had a
more natural male side to him when he wasn't having to deal with slaves. He
seemed to exude `attention', by his stance and his looks. He was thirty
something years old, but he had taken care of himself very nicely. I even  noticed
the bulge in his pants, which peaked my inner self to wonder just what  he was
keeping behind the zipper.
"Unfortunately none of the owners are here at present to greet you  properly.
One is away on business and Doc had some kind of emergency down at the  city
jail. He'll be back by supper time though and you'll get introduced to him
then", Shaun calmly said, as if it was a normal thing that none of the owners
were around on a Saturday.
"Well, I'm sure that there is plenty for me to see and do until then", I
said with my own degree of authoritativeness.
Just then a rather handsome slave came from around the side of the house  and
came to a proper rest directly behind Shaun.
"This boy's name is John Henry. He'll be your personal slave and guide,
more or less, while you're here. His master is the one that is away on a
business trip. Feel free to do with him that which brings you happiness and  pleasure.
"
As I looked the slave over from head to toe, there was much that  intrigued
me and even more that I needed or wanted to find out once we were  alone.
"Thanks Shaun, I'm sure that I'll have enough things to see around here
that I'll be able to keep the slave busy for the majority of my stay. Is there
anything I need to know about this boy before I get settled  in?"
"Nope, I don't suppose so. He came to us from his pa, who had him  enslaved
a couple of years ago. He was rebellious at first, just like all the  others,
but his master got him calmed down pretty quick with a little bit of  `
friendly persuasion' if you know what I mean."
"So he wasn't born a slave. Well no matter, I'm sure that the slave's
master had a good time whipping and fucking him into compliance. I've been able
to see just how effective a good trainer can be when it comes to those who
weren't born into the life. But, by the looks of him, I'm sure we'll get along
just fine. So `boy' help me with my luggage and show me to where it is that I'
ll  be staying."
"It's proper if you call this one and the other boys around the house by
their first names. They seem to perform better when we are on a more personal
basis with them. The ones up in the barns don't care what you call them as long
 as you feed them and have clean straw for them to sleep on", Shaun said with
a  slight chuckle. "All the house slaves have the matching nose and ear
rings; so  it'll be easy for you to tell where they belong."
"Very well, that sounds like a good plan. I'll just have to get to know  the
other house slaves also", once again sounding agreeable.
"And John Henry will also be introducing you to the `HouseMaster and the
Housekeeper. They sorta run the main house, with everything that goes on around
here them two help out tremendously and all the house slaves really like
them."
I smiled at the slave, as he moved passed me and retrieved my things from
the back of the truck. He was, indeed, a fine specimen of male slave if I'd ever
 seen one. But since I'd already been told that he was the personal property
of  one of the owners, I knew that he would be `hands off'  material.
Shaun jumped into the truck and the two men took off, leaving me to  follow
slave John towards the house.
Even the entry way of the house was opulent. It all, every stitch of it,  was
so reminiscent of the old colonial days. The `grand' staircase reminded me
of the old movie `Gone with the Wind' as we took each step  up.
The room, I was to occupy was rather large and well furnished. It even  had
its own bathroom. I was still just soaking in the luxury of the room while  the
slave began to unpack and hang my clothes in the  closet.
"If Master Kevin has any articles that need washing, I'll be more than
happy to clean them. Just show me which they are and I'll have them back, clean,
by supper", the slave said with the most pleasant of  smiles.
I informed him that all of the clothes had been cleaned earlier this
morning, prior to my departure; but thanked him and told him that I would be  most
grateful for his attention to my laundry later in the  week.
The slave noticed that I was looking at the computer station on the desk  and
commented, "The computer is for Master Kevin to use whenever he needs to. It
is not interconnected to any others in the house, so it is more or less a  `
secure' system. My Master had it installed last year after someone from your
firm suggested it."
"Thank you John Henry for that bit of information. I'll be needing it to  do
some work before I get you to show me around, if we have enough time", I said
 politely.
"Time, Master Kevin, is up to you Sir. Whatever you feel you desire or  need
to see or do, is entirely acceptable to everyone. The Masters don't run  this
place like any other that I know of. The only ones on a time schedule are  the
slaves in the work force. They get up and go to bed at the same time every
day. They are transported, every day, to their respective lease holders for
work. Sunday's, however, most of the slaves have a day of rest, but other than
that the place is rather quiet any time after six in the  morning."
"Very well then, I'll get my work done, change into something a bit more
comfortable and then I'll get you to show me around a little", I replied
without  expecting any response.
I pulled the camera out of my briefcase and performed all of the  necessary
functions needed to send the photos to the main office. I knew, even  though
this was a Saturday that Mrs. Mudfart would be sitting at her desk  waiting for
me to send them to her.
While the computer whirled and sent the photos, I continued to look at  the
room, as some of the decorations seemed so authentic that I could almost  feel
the history.
John Henry had finished hanging my clothes and was properly positioned by
the door; kneeling with his hands placed so nicely behind his head, as if
begging for me to inspect him, and I wasn't going to disappoint him or  myself.
His body probably had less body fat than mine; not that I had much to  begin
with. I played with his body jewelry; amazed at how his facial expressions
changed with each different one I tweaked. His massive ring dangling from his
cock was more than I could understand so I just had to ask him about it, to
which he politely replied.
"Master Sir, the large ring in this slave's dick is to prevent this slave
from improper mounting of another slave and to prevent someone from placing his
 or her mouth around this slave's dick Sir".
Once he'd explained it, I was more than satisfied with the reasoning  behind
the piercing. It seemed a logical and moral way to prevent unauthorized  sex.
I had the slave kneel on all fours, as I desired to inspect his ass, and
found yet another ring dangling between his balls and his asshole. I could tell
by looking at the slave's puckered flesh, that he was definitely no stranger
to  getting fucked.  The rolls of pink  and puffy flesh sent a warm, sensual
feeling through my loins like never before.  I could only imagine how it must
feel to sink one's cock into this slave and  relish in the wonderment of lustful
thinking.
I had just buried my entire finger up the slave's ass when the door  opened
up and a nice, older lady came in carrying what appeared to be a tray of  food.
"Good afternoon Sir, I hope I'm not interrupting. I'm the housekeeper and
cook and I just thought you might like a small brunch before heading off to
inspect the property."
Now with my finger extracted, looking around for a tissue, all I seemed  to
be able to do was to blush... as I thanked the lady for her kind  consideration.
John Henry rose from the floor as the lady exited and immediately went  over
to the table where the food had been placed. He hurriedly took the plate,
cup, and glass from the tray and left the table looking as it was properly set;
after which he knelt, once again, right next to the chair I was getting ready
to  sit in.
The food was simple, yet delicious; but not being too famished I offered  the
slave what was left and he eagerly accepted it and finished everything that
was left for him to eat.
After eating I changed into a pair of chino shorts and my walking shoes  and
the two of us set off on my `guided tour'.
It was a beautiful afternoon and the air smelled delightfully fresh. As  we
walked up the path, passed the first building I stopped and inquired as to  why
we weren't going down to this particular  building.
"Sir, this slave was considering leaving the building for the last stop  of
the afternoon Sir. The building in question is constantly busy with slaves  and
I just thought it might be best to allow Sir to see the other buildings
first and use what time remained to visit the building in question,  Sir"
For now, the slave's answer seemed to satisfy my curiosity; as I nodded  and
continued on the walk.
Not much further we came upon a group of slaves, much like those at Windy
Hills, who were learning the proper methods of cart and wagon pulling. The major
 difference was that the slaves were not inside a building and the wagons
were  laden with cut trees and the likes.
The crack of the whip wasn't over the slave's heads, but rather on their
rumps. Each time the wagon master flexed the whip, I knew that he had a
particular slave he wanted to encourage.
When the slaves turned the wagon, where I could see their faces; I was
probably a little shocked by seeing that they all had their mouths gagged.
The closer they came, the more  I saw. Much like John Henry, they all had
prominent body jewelry. The first  wagon was being pulled by four slaves and each
of the slaves had on a leather  harness which went around their upper torso.
It was then that I saw where the reins  which the wagon master was holding
were attached. The two slaves on the right  side, had a clip and a rein attached
to their right nipple ring; and likewise  the slaves on the left had the rein
clipped to their left nipple.
After watching for several minutes, it became quite obvious how the wagon
master got the slaves to act, and move in unison. They couldn't afford to think
or act independently.
Had it not been for their one long strip of hair on their heads, acting  like
a horse's mane, and the well shaped and trimmed pubic hairs; one might  think
of them as some kind of inhuman beast of burden. Their musculature was
magnificent and I made sure to take more than just a couple of photos of them  all.
Even the slaves learning how to pull a buggy or a simple cart seemed to  not
mind their training, even as the whip (s) cracked on and welted their flesh.
I wasn't sure if the emotions which I was feeling were those of wanting  to
brandish a whip or those wanting to feel the tips of the whip touching my own
flesh. What ever the emotion, I was once more comparing them to the feelings I
 had while I watched those slaves at Windy Hills.
We moved on, toward the rows of buildings that looked more or less like  an
ordinary barn. Each building, I discovered, was identical to the next and the
next. The insides, indeed, looked like a barn. Stalls on both sides, which
appeared to be big enough to hold two slaves quite easily. I could see the thick
 heavy chains in each stall, used to prevent night time  escapes.
Each morning before the slaves were released and taken to their  respective
work assignments, they had to clean out the soiled straw and add  fresh. There
were even two manure spreaders, which had been modified so that  they could be
pulled by teams of eight slaves, which seemed to solve the problem  of `waste
disposal'.
I think the biggest surprise was the simple fact that there were no  female
slaves on this property. In fact, the only female here was the  housekeeper.
The afternoon passed with me seeing a great deal. It was all if not more
than what was in the folder that I'd studied on the plane ride  here.
As the slave and I were making our way back to the last building, a  rather
nice, well maintained SUV rolled past us, apparently heading towards the  same
building we were walking towards.
I watched, as an older gentleman got out from the back seat and started
walking towards us. For some reason, I stopped and turned around; to find John
Henry dropping to his knees, hands dutifully behind his  head.
The man was walking at a rapid pace, towards me; with his hand now  extended.
"Greetings Master Kevin. I'm so sorry that I wasn't here earlier to greet
you. The men and boys around here call me Master Doc, but please, just call me
`doc'. I hope that this (pointing to John Henry) slave has been proper with
you  during your stay so far?"
"Oh indeed he has. He has been most helpful and has properly spoken to me
each and every time. It is more than I expected or could have asked  for."
"Good, as his master would be quite displeased with him, should he  discover
any transgressions. If you have no objections, I had planned on  allowing you
the use of the slave during his master's  absence."
"Thanks Doc, that sure is kind of you, but if it's not something the  slave
normally does, I'd feel bad about having my own personal slave for the  week."

"Nonsense young man. I'll hear nothing of the sort. The slave has been
properly trained since his arrival and he, I'm sure would love nothing better
than to serve you during your stay here."
I didn't comment again, as the two of us made our way towards the last
remaining building that I wanted to see.
"So the slave has used good judgment and kept the best for last, I see",
said Doc with a smirky kind of laugh. "You see Kevin, inside of this particular
building is where we keep the newly indentured slaves until they are properly
 kitted out and have had some exposure to living like the slave that they now
 have become. In fact, this is the exact same building where John Henry
learned  the ropes, so to speak. I can plainly remember the slaves first few weeks
here  and how he rebelled against his new life, until something clicked inside
of his  head and from then on, he's been an excellent study for all the new
slaves."
"Well, the slave certainly must have learned more than what is taught in
this building over such a short period of time", I said with an inquisitive tone
to my voice.
"True, very true Master Kevin, but you see; the knowledge and  understanding
the capabilities here seem to have the desired effect on most of  the slaves,
after a while. If a slave knows that he can become less than a male  creature
at the slightest infraction, he pretty much follows the programs  here.  Of
course, there are those  who are sent to us from the courts that require us to
castrate them; but those  are usually the sex offenders and the child
molesters. Mondays around here are  quite busy, if we get in a fresh load from the
courts after Fridays court  sessions."
I remained silent, soaking up every word that Doc spoke. He certainly  seemed
polite and well adjusted to being the proprietor of Hickory Hollow. I  knew
that before the week was over, that I'd learn  more.
"I guess that the slave hasn't mentioned our normal Saturday evening
cookout at the main house. You're more than welcome to join us, that is unless  you'
d prefer to eat in your room or with the household staff. It's normally a
great time and the sights and sounds aren't bad  either."
We were just about to enter the building when I could hear the distinct,
familiar sounds of a man, a whip and the contact of the whip to the man. There
was no need to explain what it was that I was witness to.
The man who drove the truck, was now wailing the daylight out of a slave.
The red lines across the slave's back and butt were all the evidence I needed to
 tell that he'd done something severe.
My eyes discovered Shaun, working underneath a bright light; much like  you'd
see in a hospital operating room, on a naked slave who had his legs in  those
god awful stirrups.
There were a number of stalls in the building, each holding three slaves.
Each of the slaves displayed a remarkable look of fear on their faces. Most if
not all, still had body hair and some even had erections. I quickly snapped a
couple of pictures of what all I was seeing and Doc encouraged me to take all
 the photos I wanted to take; which was a complete reversal from Windy
Hills.
"Your internship and your father have a huge impact on our operations  here
and we have nothing to hide. If you have a question that the slave can not
answer, please feel free to ask either myself or Shaun. We all want your stay
here to be as pleasant and as educational for you as you want for yourself. And
I can already see, by the tent in your shorts that you see something which
pleases you."
God, was I ever embarrassed. I didn't even know that I had sprung a  boner;
but sure enough, my cock had silently betrayed  me.
"How about we save three or four of the new slaves for tomorrow, when  you'
ve had time to rest and enjoy the night. I'm sure that you'll be able to
understand the `system' so much better after a good nights sleep and whatever
else you might have in mind for the slave", Doc said rather  quietly.
"Yes, I'd like that very much, thank you", I replied; with nothing else
coming to mind with which to say.
"Well then Master Kevin, if you don't mind, I think I'll just mossy on  down
to the house and get cleaned up for the cookout. John Henry and Shaun can
most likely walk you through the rest of the day's activities here", Doc said,
once again shaking my hand.
I walked over to Shaun, who was still working above the slave and  discovered
that he was installing the required body rings on the slave along  with a
small tattoo on the inside of the slave's upper  arm.
I watched in silence, amazed at how Shaun seemed `programmed' with each
movement he made. I'm guessing that after doing this for so long and to so many
slaves that such procedures become routine after a  while.
The last ring to be put in place was the one between the slaves rectum  and
the scrotum; to which Shaun without annoyance simply said, "we use this ring
to lock the slaves up for the night."
The final bit of work to a new slave was the installing of what Shaun  called
the `cock cage'; which according to him, was to prevent erections,  unlawful
sexual activity and to act as a constant reminder to a slave that a  cock,
any cock, belongs not to the slave, but the slave's owner. In this  particular
case the slave's owner was the State of Arkansas.
"He has been sentenced to ten years for shoplifting; so for the next ten
years he won't even be able to touch the cock attached to the body unless he's
washing it. He's just lucky that his retarded parents had him circumcised at
birth; otherwise he'd be feeling the effects of my handy work", Shaun said
with  a sadistic tone.
For some reason, I looked over to where the slave had been given a  whipping
and was astonished to see the employee now, with pants down to his  ankles,
fucking the slave without regards to who could or couldn't see  him.
"Don't worry about that Kevin, you'll see a lot of that going on in here
and you might even get to sample a few slaves yourself, before your week is up.
I don't think the last intern we had up here was into fucking the slaves, but
I  do recall him having one hell of a good time."
I switched my attention back to the slave that was being released from  the
table, as Shaun continued speaking; "If I were you, I'd be heading down to
the house and washing up. The cookout will be starting in about an hour and as
always, the boys from town will be here to do a little entertaining, if ya
know  what I mean."
I clicked off several more pictures, as the slave followed me out of the
barn. We were almost half way down the knoll, when a car pulled up alongside the
house and I noticed four scantily clad youths running and shouting as they
made  their way towards the back of the house. I assumed, right or wrong, that
they  might have been the `entertainment' that Shaun had  mentioned.

To Be  Continued...

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