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 to616' 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. Soboy' 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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