Date: Sat, 25 Nov 2006 13:03:49 EST
From: SANIBELBOYS@aol.com
Subject: a lesson in time part 6

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  Six


The sound of MoMo's voice woke me from a deep, relaxed and fulfilling sleep.
"What's the matter MoMo?" I asked as sleep was still full in my  eyes.

"Nothing Master Kevin, I'm just getting your slave boy awake so he can go
downstairs for his morning rinse. I'll send him back up as soon as his insides
are clean  Master."

I looked over and saw that indeed, the slave had spent the night in my bed. I
 was rather embarrassed at having our male house slave see me, of all people;
 with another man in my bed.

I tried to vanish the thought from my mind, as to what my father would think
if  he somehow learned of this. Both the slaves quickly and quietly exited my
room  and went down to the basement so that Shaun could perform his standard
rituals.

I was still laying in bed, my hand firmly grasping my morning erection;
allowing  me to feel the power which I was holding, as the young slave re-entered
my  bedroom.

Without saying a word, the slave went directly to the bathroom, adjusted the
water for my morning shower and then knelt down on the hard tiles, keeping
his  hands behind his  head.

By the time I reached the bathroom, my morning stiffy has subsided, somewhat,
 and I had to take my piss before I had an accident. I noticed the look in
the  slave's face and something reminded me that I'd seen that look before;
just as  the slave opened his mouth, eager to accept my morning piss. Not one to
disappoint, I stepped over and put my cock into his mouth, just in the nick
of  time. The slave's lips had barely closed around my shaft when the
torrential  flood of urine began to fill his oral  cavity.

"Thank you Sir, Thank You", was all that the boy said as I eased my dick out
of  his mouth and stepped into the  shower.

The slave followed me in, and instantly began to lather my entire body with
my  favorite liquid soap. The boy didn't miss a single square inch of my body,
as he  gently rubbed away any and all tale-tail signs that the two of us had
had a  night filled with exquisite sex. I only wished that my cock wasn't still
sore,  as I had so wanted to penetrate his anal muscle, but settled for a
nice, slow  blowjob  instead.

Feeling refreshed and rather obligated, I took my shot at bathing the slave.
I  don't think he expected a free man to bath him, let alone in the manner in
which  I was doing it. There just seemed to be a natural connection between
the two of  us; but I knew that it had to be from the lack of closeness to a
man, which was  closer to the truth than you'd know. At least I finally had this
one  opportunity, this one chance to be intimate with a man, like I'd never
been  before; and as far as my mom and dad were concerned... that's what some
slaves are  meant to be and used as  such.

I couldn't resist sucking his cock one more time, as he tried in vain to keep
 his two hands away from my head. My finger lanced his butt one final time,
as he  shot another youthful load of slave seed into my  throat.

He patted me dry, gently and with affection, before using the same, now damp,
 towel to wipe the water droplets from himself. I was flabbergasted to see
MoMo  standing there in my bedroom.  He stood with a smile and a certain twinkle
 in his eyes, which told me that in fact he knew, he had to have known; but
for  how  long?

Today's dress code was for me to once again attire in one of my many suits,
as  both of the slaves helped to get me dressed; after which I styled my hair
and  gave myself a small squirt of  cologne.

"Good choice of boys, Master Kevin" MoMo said into my ear, as I passed him,
needing to squelch my hunger. It was that simple sentence that told the
story.

On my way to the staircase, I ventured a look into my sister's room and she
was  still bound, spread-eagle on the bed. But now she had a wide piece of tape
over  her mouth and she was also wearing one of those `slave diapers' that a
lot of  people use when training a new slave. I couldn't help but to once
again notice  the lack of pubic hair; which seemed to pronounce the appearance of
her.... You  know....

I should have related that same vision to MoMo, Shaun and all the other
slaves  around the country; but I'd soon be revisiting the same sights in the days
and  months to  come.

Breakfast was just like most of the other mornings, with mom taking total
control of the conversation. She wished me to have a good day, learn lots, be
courteous and all the other things that moms around the world say to their
offspring on days like  this.
"Perhaps", by the time you get home tonight, your sister will be a new
person;  one in which you can be proud", and that was the last sentence mom said as
she  left the table, heading  upstairs.

MoMo handed me the slave's leash as I started to leave the house; and I hated
 the thought of having to put it back on him. The look in his eyes, told me
that  it was okay and that he understood. Reluctantly I clipped it on to his
ball  ring.

On the way into work, dad and I discussed mom and my sister quite abit,
filling  up most of the time. I'm sure that dad had to notice my lack of facial
contact  with him; as I couldn't help but to stare at the back of Shaun's head,
wanting  to know if he was sitting there smiling or had he in fact returned to
a slave's  state of  mind.

Upstairs, just outside dad's reception area, I stood waiting for Mr. Alderton
to  arrive and take the slave away from me; when out of the blue, the slave
spoke in  quiet, subtle words. "Sir, if this slave may Sir, I'm just wanting
to thank you  for the best day of my whole life Sir. I'm sorry to see you leave
for the summer  and this slave hopes and will pray that you return soon and
return safe  Sir."

I gave the slave a big hug and a small kiss, just moments before Mr. Alderton
 came into  view.

We exchanged pleasantries for several minutes, which I used to inform Mr.
Alderton that I didn't expect this particular slave to be a problem while I was
gone, and that if possible I would avail myself of the slave upon my
immediate  return.

"So I'm to understand then that all went well last night with the slave", he
 questioned in a way that only needed for me to nod my head and  smile.

I only spent ten minutes waiting to see dad, before I sped off to keep my
prearranged schedules with others in the building. I made more notes, more than
I had thought necessary but I made them anyway and figured I could delete the
 non-essential ones  later.

Lunch was a total blast. Dad was true to his word and we had more food than
any  one person could even sample. The wait staff was obviously a group of well
 trained slaves, all dressed alike and all poised to serve or service any of
the  guests in any manner which was called for. I almost had one of my
notorious  laughing fits, when I saw Ms. Mudfart groping the rather large `package'
of one  of the older  slaves.

By the time the day neared completion, I had been laden down with my new
briefcase, jammed with folders, cellphone, notepads pencils and pens. I think
the only thing missing was the `kitchen sink'. I'm pretty sure that everyone in
 the building who was on the administrative staff had, had at least come to
wish  me well and success.  Some of the females even managed to hug me and peck
 my cheeks with their painted lips.  YUK!

I didn't see Shaun the rest of the day, nor did I see him before sliding onto
 the seat in the back of the limo. Were my feelings for him real, or were
they  just masked by the previous nights sexual escapades; I guess only time will
 tell.

I rode home in silence, as even dad was kept busy talking on his phone. I didn
't  pay any attention to the outside world; as my mind was now focused on the
task  which lay before me. I soon found myself leafing through the folders
and my  schedule; putting them in proper sequence for later  review.

Once inside the house, I went upstairs, followed by MoMo, who helped me clean
up  and change into more comfortable clothing. Before heading downstairs for
dinner,  MoMo stood in front of me and spoke. "I've known Master Kevin, for
many years.  Your secret is safe with me Sir. I'm just glad that you finally
got the  opportunity to express yourself, completely, with another male; be it a
free man  or a  slave."

I gave MoMo an acknowledged look, as I made my way to the dinner table.
Everyone  was waiting on me, this time. My sister was there already but she was
sitting  there naked as the day she was born. I didn't dare say anything to her
about why  she was naked nor did I even ask her about how her day went. I
already knew;  especially if mom stayed home all day to `whip' her into  shape.

Near dinner's end, she did break her silence and asked humbly for forgiveness
 for the way she treated me the previous day. I could tell that she was
nearly in  tears, as I accepted her apology. Mom had even been more relaxed during
the  meal, probably from having to stay home instead of hanging out with all
her high  society  ladies.

"Time" dad said, "all good things come to those who wait. Now son it is your
 time to explore, to learn, to experience what my world is all about.
Tomorrow  you shall embark on a journey which will educate you far more than the
books in  school, far better than anything I can teach you. It's a Lesson in Time
son, a  Lesson In Time. I believe your schedule says that you have an early
flight out  in the morning, so I'll bid my farewells now, and remember what we'
ve discussed  and you can always reach me at home in the evenings if you feel
you have  to."
That  said,dad rose from his chair and retired to his den/home office. I
excused  myself from the table, leaving mom and my sister alone. I could hear mom
talking  to her as I ascended the stairs, bound for my  room.

About an hour later, MoMo came in; bringing with him my suitcase. We
discussed  what clothing I would need, and it seemed as if MoMo knew more about what I
 should pack than I did. I followed his lead as he rummaged though my bureau,
and  closet; finding the two magazines I'd stashed inside the pockets of two
of my  suit coats. "Shall I pack these too, Master Kevin?" he asked with a
smirk on his  face. "Perhaps I should take them downstairs so that your family
won't come upon  them by  accident."

I quickly informed MoMo that he could dispose of them as he saw fit, as I didn
't  want anyone here to find my copies of "Inches" and "Latino  Slaves".

In the morning, I hurriedly showered and dressed, and made my way downstairs
to  the kitchen, where JoJo and MoMo were having their morning coffee. It was
still  dark outside and it had been quite awhile since I'd been up this  early.

JoJo poured me some coffee and fixed my favorite, `on the run' snack as I
sat  with the two of them for a few minutes and talked openly about their lives
in  our home, about how they saw their future and the future of all of the
others  who'd been enslaved. Both of them were rather insightful with their
words, as  they made me think about so many different aspects of slaves and slave
owners;  not to mention the slave processing and slave training facilities all
over the  country.

I bid my farewells to JoJo as she tidied up the kitchen, with MoMo following
me  with my heavy suitcase in his strong hands. Before I had even grabbed for
the  door knob, MoMo twirled me around, dropping the suitcase and proceeded to
give  me a big hug, which was way out of character for him as a slave. He
could  receive disciplinary actions for what he had just  done.

However, I would never cause the slave harm; not after all these wonderful
years  he's given me and my family. I hugged him back, as he gave my forehead a
departing kiss; tears welling up in his eyes. "Don't change Master Kevin,
please  come home the same fine young man that you are today", MoMo said to me
as I  opened the door and quickly, lest someone see my tears, I hurriedly
climbed into  the  limo.

I made good use of my time riding to the airport. I had my first stop already
in  my head; as I glanced at some of the facial pictures which were in each
of the  folders. I didn't even realize it, but mom hadn't even said her
good-bye's to  me; but it wasn't the first time that she omitted doing  such.
As  the plane headed north to Connecticut, I had about ninety minutes more to
peruse  the folder and made mental notes on what, during my visit, I was to
look for,  observe and retain in either my head or written notes. Dad's company
was so  efficient that inside each folder, for each leg of my journey was an
envelope  with additional cash, for emergency spending should I find myself in
a place  that didn't accept the plastic cash which was so common these days.
There was a  note inside each of the envelopes... "Remember to keep ALL
receipts for money  spent"... I had to chuckle because that almost sounded verbatim of
what my dad  said to me each time I came home from college on a break; where
he always gave  me spending money before I returned.

The airport wasn't that large, but it was filled to capacity when I got off
the  plane. There was a man standing there with my name on a placard, which
seemed to  be professionally made. I went over and introduced myself and it wasn'
t but two  seconds and I discovered that he was a slave.

He followed me over to baggage claim and hefted my suitcase as if it were
nothing more than a bag of popcorn.  He must be packing solid muscle  underneath
his uniform suit, was all I could think  of.

Outside the terminal building, parked curbside, was a long white  limousine.
There was another equally dressed man standing by the door,  awaiting my
arrival. The slave carrying my bag, went directly to the trunk of  the vehicle and
carefully placed my luggage inside and closed the lid; as the  remaining man
(slave) opened my  door.

I lowered myself onto the seat, as the door closed behind me and it was then
that I saw a naked man kneeling in the passenger compartment. He was
beautiful,  in a sort of slave way. He didn't have a single hair on his body, not one;
and  without hair you might have thought him to be a young boy.

With both of the well dressed men, now seated up front, the car began to exit
 the airport property; as the one man up front turned to me and said, "the
boy is  here for your comfort and relaxation Sir, please avail yourself of him
as you  see fit; we have about an hours ride until we arrive at our
destination."

The next thing I see is the darkened window rising up from behind the front
seat; sealing me off from everyone, except the  slave.

For several minutes, I watched as the slave attempted to maintain his balance
 while properly kneeling; but it was extremely difficult for him to  do.

Pointing to the seat behind him I said "Sit there, I don't mind if you  sit."

"Thank you Sir for your kindness towards this humble slave", came his  reply.

I watched him place his hands on the seat first and then he put a butt cheek
on  each of his hands. He sat there, head bowed, arms behind this head and his
legs  splayed open; giving me total visual and physical access to his cock
and balls  should I so  desire.

After several more minutes had passed I entered into a rather sublime
conversation with him and discovered that he'd been born into his life as a  slave
and knew of no other existence.  It was truly amazing to feel so much  control
over another human, that the feeling almost shattered my thoughts and
wonderful experience from the night  before.

The countryside came into view rather quickly as the car continued on. The
rolling hills seemed to make great divisions between homes, estates and the
like.

When the car slowed down, and turned off the main road I began to pay closer
attention to my  surroundings.

We stopped at a gate where two men in different uniforms were standing. The
huge  gate swung open and the car pulled just inside before coming to a stop in
what  appeared to be a small parking  area.

My door was opened rather quickly and I was anxious to stand up. I quickly
took  in the immediate area and was surprised to see several slaves tethered to
what  appeared to be carts, used to transport  people.

The one original slave, quickly put my suitcase on the back of the cart and
assisted me on climbing on to the leather padded seat. "Sir, if Sir desires to
 quicken the pace of the pony boy, simply use the buggy whip and the slave
will  hasten his pace to Sir's liking."

I was astounded be the fact that I'd not been here five minutes and was
already  being exposed to this form of slavery. I'm guessing that none of the
slaves knew  of, or had been told of my purposeful visit. But the one thing I did
know; I  wasn't about to whip a slave, just to make him go  faster.

"Sirs pony slave knows the way to Sir's guest cottage so we hope you enjoy
the  ride and the beauty of Winding Hills Training Academy,  Sir."

As the buggy began to move forward, I noticed that the slave from the car was
 now running alongside. I smiled at him, although I knew he didn't see me
smile;  but perhaps I was smiling because I found it rather nice sitting high
above two  slaves, watching one's bouncing cock and balls as he trotted to keep
pace with  the pony  slave.

The road we were taking wasn't a paved one, but appeared to have been
constructed of all natural materials and it made the ride seem more relaxing and
inviting, to look around at all that nature had proved.

Looking to the one side, I noticed that the slave was falling behind and for
some crazy reason I yelled `Stop"; and the pony slave brought the cart to a
gentle halt. I waited until the slave boy had once more caught up to us and
then  inquired of him if the pony slave was perhaps going to fast for him to
keep  up.

"Sir, sorry Sir, but this slave has never been as good at a fast run as any
of  Master's pony slaves  Sir."

I couldn't expect the slave to keep up the pace, knowing full well that even
I  couldn't have kept up myself.

Now in a minor dilemma, I climbed down and approached the pony slave and half
 asked, half told him to slow down so that the other slave could keep up. The
 pony slave nodded his head vigorously, indicating that he understood my
command.

Thankfully, for the young slave and myself the ride wasn't much longer and
soon  enough the buggy came to a stop in front of a rather nice looking small
cottage,  completely landscaped and trimmed to  perfection.

I didn't have to say a single word, and the naked slave began struggling with
my  suitcase, as the pony slave turned the buggy around and headed back to
the main  gate. I was amused yet saddened that this slave had to use both hands
to carry  my bag; as I scanned the surrounding area to see what else was  near.

The slave quickly opened the door and almost dragged my suitcase inside, with
me  following close behind. I couldn't help but to notice the muscles in his
legs  and arms, small in size, yet well defined against his small framed  body.

The slave didn't have any strength left to put the suitcase on the bed, and I
 could see his face as looking rather sad. I opened up a conversation with
him,  again, thinking that I could learn more about him and just slavery in
general.  It was a `golden opportunity' that I wasn't going to let  pass.
I  put the suitcase on the bed and the slave went quickly, yet slowly, to
work  putting everything on hangers, toiletries in the bathroom etc, as I
relentlessly  questioned him in the most polite manner I knew  how.

I learned from speaking with the slave that apparently he'd been deemed unfit
 from birth. He even nursed from his mother and other females until he was
almost  three years old.

I had been trained in many aspects of a slave's life except the more
strenuous  work such as being a pony slave or common laborer. I already knew that at
this  facility that common labor slaves were never the norm here, as it only
catered  to the `upper end' scale of men who sought certain slaves for specific
 work.

Opening my briefcase, I brought out my camera and took several pictures of
the  slave to correspond with my notes about our conversation. The slave even
assumed  a proper inspection pose, but I chose not to do a formal inspection of
his body,  just  yet.

I was, according to the slave, his first actual assignment pertaining to
being a  personal slave/servant to a guest here. This in essence was his cottage,
his  grounds to keep immaculate and pristine.  From what I'd already seen, the
 slave would have gotten an A+ from  me.

We continued to speak, as I changed into more comfortable clothing; with the
slaves help of course, until such time as there was a knock on the  door.

A well dressed man, of apparently some importance, was at the door as the
slave  opened  it.

He introduced himself as Mr. Wilton, who would be my liaison while here. He
said  that after lunch he would come back and then take me on a general tour of
the  facilities.  He mentioned that I could have lunch at the main building
with  all the others or if I chose, I could eat lunch here in my private
cottage.  Dinner however, was to always be in the grand dinning room of the owner's
home.  I chose to eat here, at least on my first day and then I'd more than
likely be  eating lunch with the others during my brief five day visit.

Mr. Wilton asked if they slave boy that they had provided was to my
satisfaction  and I immediately responded that he was. I didn't want Mr. Wilton to
think or to  assume that I was some kind of rookie around slaves. He seemed
pleased, and even  reminded my slave of a few things before he turned away and left.
Looking out  the window, I could see him riding high atop the buggy that was
being pulled by  not one, but two slaves.  I suppose he'd need the two slaves
if they were  pulling two grown men around the  complex.

With time trudging on, I informed my slave that he could start fixing lunch,
at  which he went right to work. I was amazed at the food stored in the
cabinets and  the refrigerator. Some of the finest wines were chilling in a separate
wine  cooler and I sort of felt important for once in my  life.

Since there was just me eating, I almost offered the slave a seat at the
table,  but thought better of it. When I saw that he was eating slave kibbles, it
reminded me so much of the things I'd read about and learned in  school.

The poor slave had made enough for three free men, so I opted to offer him
some  of mine. Timidly, he put some in his bowl and used his fingers to consume
it;  all with a beautiful smile on his face, which kind of told me that his
own heart  was content for the time  being.

He finished his kibbles and the food which I'd given him and got up from
sitting  on the floor to clear the table and do the dishes. By this time, Mr.
Wilton was  back and the two of us headed off for my first tour. I remembered to
bring my  camera and cellphone with me, as well as my  notepad.

I had left the slave behind, to do whatever he needed to do; until my return.
He  seemed pleased that I'd sort of just gave him a `free afternoon'.  As I
closed the cottage door, I noticed him pulling a small mat out from under the
 bed, along with a rather dainty pillow. I knew that he'd rest well, after
the  hard, long run this morning topped off by eating a proper  meal.

The two slaves pulling the buggy were magnificently paired. I even snapped a
few  photos of them as their muscled legs worked in unison to get us up the
slight  incline without the least bit of  hesitation.

By the time we had reached the top of the hill, the forest gave way to open
fields of grass, apple trees, and a myriad of out buildings. Beyond the
buildings I could see what look like a rather expansive home, which I took to be
that of the  owner.

We were not alone on the earthen trail, as many buggies passed us going in
the  opposite direction. Some of the passengers, riding with or without
assistance  were dressed in long flowing robes, some with head protection and others
with a  simple wrapping around their head, protecting themselves from sun
damage.

It felt so different here. I couldn't put my finger on it at first, but I was
 sure that I'd discover more here than what originally met my  eyes.

Watching Mr. Wilton, command the pony slaves was absolutely amazing.  He
mostly used gently tugging on the reins but once or twice he had to crack the
whip above their heads; but I'd bet my last dollar, that he only did that to
impress  me.

He would bring the team of ponies, to a halt as we came up to a different
building. He politely explained what went on inside each of them, but as some of
 the signage over the doors spelled out, I didn't need too much of an
explanation...

Signs like "Induction Center", "Probationary Slave Prep Area", "Yearling
Slave  Training", "Advanced Slave Training", "Collection Area", Insemination
Room",  "Disciplinary Division", "Medical Enhancement Division", "Slave
Medical  Treatment Area", were just some of the professionally crafted signs that
I saw  on this pleasant jaunt around the  compound.

I was caught off guard momentarily when Mr. Wilton asked if I was indeed the
man  in the video which he saw played out yesterday; the one showing all the
features  of the new Slave Medical Scan and Testing Enhancer.

"Well, yes that was me in the video. I volunteered so that the video would be
 more informative and constructive rather than the normal run of the mill
cheap  thrills slave sex movie. Most slaves would have buckled under the enormous
 stress and strain of all which the machine is capable of doing,  and we  didn
't want to deter the importance of the machine by allowing a simple slave to
be scanned and  tested."

"That's very commendable", Mr. Wilton responded. "I don't know of any free
man  that would have done it either, so you are to be congratulated for your
earnest  desire to see you father's company prosper and his continuous desire
to see that  the slave industry stays alive and fluid at the same time. By the
way... my mentor  works for your father now also, perhaps you know of him. His
name is Alderton,  Mr. Alderton. I have everything I've learned all due to his
constant, even  tempered way of teaching new overseers. At first I hated the
way he treated all  of us  new employees here, but after awhile I began to see
the need for his  relentless badgering.... Always wanting us to do it right the
first  time."

"Yes", I quickly replied; "I've only recently met him and he is quite the
knowledgeable man. I have hopes to work along side of him after my internship
and final year of school. I can see, quite easily, that he has had many good
years of experience in his selected field of  expertise."

Mr. Wilton pulled back on the reins, bringing the team to a easy stop. "Here"
,  he said; "Why not give it a try. I'll help you with the basics and then
by  tomorrow if you want to go out by yourself you will have a decent knowledge
of  how to control the ponies, although they normally know and accept most
verbal  commands as  well."

I sheepishly took the reins, my hands sweating just a little, as Mr. Wilton
barked at the ponies to get started. I found it easy, really, to tell them to
go  right, left or stop. Just a small flicker of the reins and the ponies were
once  again on the move.  I learned how to make them go faster and slower all
 with the reins a few simple words.

I toured the apple orchards and their buildings used for making various
things  with the acres and acres of apples grown here. I learned that there were
only,  on average, 77 slaves here that were owned by the company. Currently
there are  29 slaves in training for other assignments and some of those are even
overseas.

"You must understand, that here at Winding Hills, we turn out nothing but
quality. Quantity is not our goal. We will only deliver one of our slaves once
he has learned his occupation to its fullest.  Since we can't legally sell
one of our slaves, we have a properly high, `lease agreement' which most are
eager to accept.  If we could ever sell them, it would be a blessing, as  then
we could make room for more, but we never know when the lessee will desire  to
return the slave to  us."

I commented to Mr. Wilton on his remarks, allowing him the satisfaction that
I  understood; but he said a few keywords which triggered some of my dad's own
 concerns.  I'd have to get back to my abode and make private notes of what
Mr. Wilton had just spoken of.

"I'll have a buggy sent for you right before diner, if that's alright", Mr.
 Wilton asked as we pulled up to my  cottage.

"Well, if it's okay... I'd like to walk up by myself tonight. You know, enjoy
the  fresh air, the sounds of nature and such. It will also give me time to
better  observe some of the other slaves, overseers and I might just pick up on
some  good pointers for my own  career."

"Very well then Sir, we shall see you at eight, as dinner is served promptly
Sir", Mr. Wilton said in a happy  tone.

I stood there and watched the two ponies gallop full speed, as Mr. Wilton
kept  cracking the whip above their  heads.
Now  it was time to just relax and unwind, make some notes, wash up and
perhaps  change into something more fitting a proper dinner at the main house.
Besides, I  was rather curious to meet and speak with the owner and perhaps even a
few of  the men who had come to `'lease a slave or  slaves".

Hell, I didn't even have to open the door; as my personal slave had it
swinging  open just as my hand reached for the door knob.

His naked beauty only caused me to think once again about Shaun. I wonder
what  Shaun's doing right this second, as I think of how gently he sucked my
cock, and  how warm my tongue found his rectum, as it darted in and out.

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