This story is (C)Copyright 2006, by TM. All World Wide Rights Reserved. This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.
A Lesson In Time, Chapter Seven
"Sir would desire a shower before supper?" the `angelic' looking slave asked me.
"Yes, I'm in desparate need of a shower and probably a shave; seeing as how dinners around here are rather formal". I replied.
After helping me to undress, the slave adjusted the shower so that it felt nearly perfect. And then, out of a clear blue sky, the slave began speaking.
"Would Sir care for a cleansing as well Sir?"
I turned around to face him, under the droplets of water flowing down our two bodies and asked, "What on earth would I need a cleansing for?"
Seeing the startled and confused look on my face, the slave replied, "Sir, well Sir... a lot of times after the dinner is completed, some of the free men indulge in shall I say extra activities. One might never know when a slave's tongue may just find a Master's rectum Sir. If Sir desires a cleansing, this slave can assure him that it will be unlike any other which Sir has probably experienced."
I could see the pleading expression on the slave's face. If I didn't accept his offer for an enema, he looked as if I didn't like or appreciate him or his efforts to please me; his first full assignment.
"Well alright then, since you've explained it in such a manner; how could I refuse a beautiful boy such as yourself."
The expression on his face went from gloom to glorious in one quick second.
He quickly stepped from the shower and retrieved a small plastic bag from under the sink. I watched him take two small bottles of liquid from the bag and pour them into a standard cleansing bag and then he filled the larger bag with water.
I looked at him, as he got back in the shower; with him having that blank stare on his face. It dawned on me that he was waiting for me to kneel down on all fours.
As I knelt, I watched him put the one end of the enema bag in between his te eth, clamping down on it, like an alligator. He slid the small nozzle into my butt, and it didn't feel anything like the larger one that MoMo had used on me before my physical examination.
Whatever it was that the slave had added to the water, seemed to desensitize my sphincter and inner walls of my intestines. There was hardly any feeling of discomfort, and absolutely none, when the slave slid one of his small fingers along side the plastic nozzle and into my anal cavity.
It was astonishing just how well he'd been trained; trained to locate and massage my prostate gland while my guts were filling with the solution. I didn' t even care, now, that my own cock was rock solid and my balls pulsing with anticipation.
I hardly notice, unlike with MoMo, just how much of the water and liquids he' d gotten into me before he slipped his finger and the nozzle out. He quickly flicked something over the drain, and the strainer slid open; displaying a hole about four inches across.
He stood up and as far back as he could, allowing me to squat over the hole and expelled my ass slime and the liquid flushing agent. The water from the shower head above made quick work of rinsing the floor.
Two more times, the slave administered my enema and I felt not only clean inside, but for some strange reason my stomach began to growl as if it was starved.
It was rather frustrating, having the slave bring me so close, three different times to having a splashing orgasm; but I simply figured that sooner or later I'd get rid of my load. After dressing, and grooming, the slave took my dinner jacket and showed me the `short cut' to the main house. It was a pleasant walk, to say the least; just having, for once, a naked slave accompany me in this vast area filled with slaves, free men and sex.
The pathway indeed was a shortcut, but not without being able to see other slaves following their guests along the same trail. From the quick glimpses I got from the other free men, you could almost feel as if you were among some of the richest men from all around the world. Long robes, three piece suits, flashy rings and watches all gave me the eerie feeling that these particular men, had very particular desires and needs to be filled here at Winding Hills.
Dinner went well, and I'd never seen so much food all at once. There was something there to appeal to even the fussiest eater, including myself. There wasn't much talk, or should I say, much that I could understand; except for the words of our host, Mr. Trumbull.
After dinner, I did indeed witness some sexual escapades but nothing the likes of intercourse or debauchery. Mr. Trumbull didn't seem to impressed with me, nor did he spend to much time talking to me except for the usual questions about how my dad was feeling and doing. He knew that I wasn't there for his gratification; but to learn from his employees all that I could in the short time I had to spend with them. What he didn't know, was that I also had some special things I needed to discover, and observe just for the edification of my dad.
I think just be keeping my eyes and ears opened that I'd already learned some of the things here that dad had asked me to look for. Some of these free men, were seeking slaves not to lease, but to purchase outright and that of course is against the law here in the states.
I got the feeling that most, if not all of these men had been here many times before. One or two of them, I overheard talking to Mr. Trumbull about specific slaves which they'd `ordered up' on the last visit; with Mr. Trumbull explaining to them that tomorrow they would be able to see the results of all the hard training which had been taking place just as these men had instructed. My eyes kept a constant vigil about the room, as I continued to hear more and more talks about certain aspects of training certain slaves and how well they would be received back in their new home country. That probably was the biggest give away of them all; as no slave in the states was permitted to leave the jurisdiction of American soil.
I began to feel more than a bit uneasy, so I bid my thanks and good nights to all the other men and looked for my slave boy.
It didn't take long before he came crawling towards me, smiling that innocent smile he so warmly carried with ease.
I was deep in thought the entire way back to my cottage, even forgetting the kind reminder from Mr. Trumbull that my day should start no later than seven a.m. Like who the hell is he to tell me when my day should or will start?
It felt so good to get out of the suit and tie, sitting at the desk making large amounts of notes which I'd acquired throughout the day. I almost felt as if I should call the office and inform them of what I'd overheard; but the better part of common sense told me to wait until I was on my way to the next training facility.
I turned around in my seat, and the slave was kneeling alongside of the bed, next to his mat, so I asked of him; "So boy, do you like sleeping on a mat every night?"
`Sir yes Sir. It is much better than most of the others get to sleep on and up in the pony barn it isn't nice at all. Those ponies are lucky if they get to lay down when it is time to sleep. You ever see a pony laying down sleeping before? Well a good healthy pony sleeps on his feet and that what all of our ponies do too, Sir."
I could easily tell that the slave was just a bit over anxious to answer my questions with a simple answer, so I pursued him even more.
"So tell me boy, at what age are you now, and what is your name?"
"Sir, this slave doesn't or never has had a name from the world Sir. My name Sir is 616. That's my name Sir; and they tell me that I'm somewhere between seventeen and twenty years of age Sir. Nobody really seems to know, and it doesn't make much difference anyway, just so long as I can remain free, Sir" .
"Just why in the world do you say you are `free' 616? How can you be free if you are a slave and only know a slave's life?"
"Sir, well Sir, compared to all the other slaves, I'm one of the lucky ones Sir. There are only a few like this slave, Sir. We got educated here on the farm and we know enough to follow orders and do a real good job too. All the other slaves have to be kept locked away, beaten all the time, fucked or made into pony slaves Sir; so me and the others think of ourselves as free Sir."
"616, now I want you to tell me the truth. Have you ever been kept locked away, beaten, fucked or made to learn the ways of a pony slave?"
Gee whiz, you thought I just gave the slave a million dollars. He started off telling me his whole life's story and before I knew it; I'd amassed a certain amount of sympathy for the young slave.
I put my notepad away and locked my briefcase for the night. I stood and went to the bathroom to take care of my needs before retiring.
My slave removed my clothes, and tended to them properly; as I slid into bed.
As the slave lay down on his mat, I turned off the last lamp; sending the room into darkness. I lay there processing every word, and sentence the slave had spoken.
My mind drifted by to home, dad's office and everything else that was still processing in my head. I couldn't, for the life of me begin to fall asleep.
In the faintest of whispers I heard, "Sir, would Sir like his slave to comfort him tonight?" I could have and probably should have seen to a proper discipline session for this particular slave, for speaking so my times out of turn and without due cause; but I didn't. Instead I beckoned the slave to my bad, and instantly felt the softness of his body against mine; as he wrapped his arm over my chest and nuzzled into my shoulder blade.
I rolled over, exposing myself under the finest of linens, knowing full well that I was telling the slave to service my cock. His head disappeared under the sheet and his warm, moist mouth encircled my now solid shaft. The slaves hands began kneading and massaging every inch of exposed skin; as if he'd had decades of experience.
I tossed the sheet back, exposing the two of us to the cool night air in the cottage as I began to rub the slaves body with no where near the same diligence as he was providing me. I slid my hands under his arms and pulled him to my lips, kissing him and squeezing him as if he was my soul mate.
The slave never once, skipped a beat, as he continued to find areas on my body that needed attention and/or that peaked my sexual prowess for more.
My hand made contact with the slave's own cock, to find it erect with a few droplets of pre-ejaculate clinging to the head. The slave was fondling my balls as he stroked my cock and that was about all it took for me to make the one decision that would affect me for years to come.
I rolled the slave over, on to his back; which instantly he spread his legs and pulled his feet up like a well trained bed slave is supposed to do. I guess that I could have plowed my dick right into him, or have taken my time to enjoy the slow, more intimate entry into his body.
However, my desires, and wants overpowered all reasoning; as I took the slaves hands away from his own feet and gently lowered his legs to the bed. I sucked his cock for some time, just like I had done with Shaun; but tonight was to be different and there was no controlling what happened next. With the slave's cock all slimed with my spit, I positioned myself atop his lithe body and allowed my rectum to make contact with his cock. I could sense the slave was in a bit of a quandary, but I remained silent as to my actions; as I lowered myself onto his cock. It hurt and I wouldn't lie about such a thing; but since I was in control of how much, how fast; it made it even more delightful as I eased just a little in at a time.
It wasn't long before I was impaled completely on his naked dick and I was in
a whole other universe. I couldn't believe it. I finally had my life long dream come true. Sex with another man, be it slave or not, I was in the throws of eternal ecstasy.
I wanted, NO, I needed to know what it was like being on the bottom; so I remained impaled as I coached the slave over to be on top of me as I whispered to him, "please let me feel the power of your cock in me. Allow me the one thing that I've yearned for, for so long."
His rhythm and manner in which he fucked me was beyond comprehension. He was able to keep from having an orgasm for quite some time, as my sphincter muscle began to loosen around his cock.
The remainder of the time we were awake was spent in further explorations and sexual positions; which brought the two of us to become a joined mass of sweaty flesh.
It all seemed so different in the morning; at least for me. As for the slave, he seemed to have accepted last nights sexual rendezvous as just part of his assignment.
I even allowed the slave to partake in some of the food which he had so diligently prepared for my breakfast. Our time in the shower was one like never before, as I even knelt before the slave not to just suck his cock, but to drink his golden nectar. Not being exactly what you'd call experienced; I wasn't able to swallow all, or much, of his piss without a small amount of gagging.
The slave, 616, seemed rather pleased that he had aided me in my time of need and desire; as he began to whistle while he scrubbed my body with a new, different and exciting fragrance of soap.
I dressed in simple jeans and a nice shirt; new sneakers on my feet, all ready for a busy day of learning.
I looked at my watch and it was almost eight o'clock; but I didn't give it my thought or credence. Outside the cottage was a fine looking pony slave attached to a much simpler buggy than yesterday.
With everything that had happened last night and this morning, I was lucky to
even think to remember my camera, cellphone and notepad; as I climbed atop the buggy. From the back, looking forward, it was plain to see that this pony slave was a lot different looking, still fine though, as compared to the one we had yesterday.
This pony lacked the muscle definition and the posture of yesterdays. Our pony even had on those thick leather blinders and he also had a bit in his mouth. I stared at him for the longest time; wondering why he was so different, until 616 spoke up.
"Sir, if this slave might Sir. Today's pony is kind of learning his way in his new life. Sir will have to guide him with the reins and speak words to it, if Sir intends on arriving at a certain destination. I don't think this pony has been out much since he arrived, so that's probably why they gave him to you, Sir. At least Sir doesn't have one of the really new `blind' ponies. This one can see where he is going at least, and that will make the day seem a lot better for Sir."
I stared back and forth between 616 and the pony. Finally I spoke up; "are you planning on running alongside 616, or would you rather ride up here with me and be my guide for the whole day."
There wasn't even time for him to answer, as he leapt on top of the buggy, squeezing his naked butt right next to my leg.
A simple shake of the reins and our pony was off and heading up the trail to the out buildings.
"Sir, today is the day which we normally would get any new slave arrivals, so
perhaps Sir would care to view how they are brought in and processed. It doesn't really take that much time, and Sir might enjoy seeing it", my slave said; still with that angel like smile on his face.
It took some, not much, effort for me to steer the pony to the building which 616 had pointed out. The pony seemed to be laboring, so I was glad that he was now able to have a break while I went inside and observed the processing of new slaves. I'd be willing to bet that 616 was able to find and give some water to our pony, quenching what thirst he may have acquired.
As I entered the building, the first thing which caught my attention was how bright the whole huge room was. There weren't any walls, doors, cubicles or anything else; just one huge space.
Every head turned in my direction, as I slowly closed the door behind me and then I heard someone say, "ah now that our last man has arrived we can proceed." I knew that I was late, but didn't think that my tardiness would inhibit the normal day to day activities around here.
There were four clothed males, of various ages, sizes and shapes; all huddled in one large cage. They were each handcuffed and gagged.
One of the overseers unlocked the cage and pulled the first slave out; slamming the door closed behind him.
Another man, dressed as all the other employees came up and between the two of them; had unceremoniously cut every stitch of clothing from the man's body. I could see a few tears forming in his face, but whatever he did to get sent here was no one's fault but his own.
I'd guess him to be about my age or a bit older. He wasn't one of those guys who went to the gym every day but he still wasn't what I'd call, `out of shape'. I guess everybody else in the room had seen this scenario played out hundreds of times before; as they all stood around, whispering amongst themselves and a few were even pointing to the naked man's groin area.
Before I knew what to expect next, one of the employees took a rope and placed it around the slave's neck, much like a leash of sorts. With the help of the second employee, they un-cuffed the slaves hands and pushed them up his back, near his shoulder blades; using part of the rope to bind them together and attached them to the rope around his neck.
One of the men reached, from behind the new slave, and grabbed his balls; pulling them backwards between the slave's legs. I watched as the slave tried to adjust the spread of his legs to compensate for the unpleasantness of the moment.
The man, still holding the rope; made several loops and turns, around the skin, between the slave's balls and base of his slave cock. There was still about six feet of rope left and I quickly saw the purpose for which it was used.
Using the rope as a leash, they pulled the slave backwards, while the slave had an enormous amount of difficulty trying to keep his legs apart and to walk in reverse.
In an area that somewhat resembled an open shower in a gym; the slave was scrubbed, shaved and scrubbed again by several naked slaves.
Another slave, at least I thought he was a slave, took control and forced the new slave to kneel while getting his guts hosed out, over and over and over again, until only clear water was present.
I had managed to take a few photos of the whole process, so far; as I was not in the front line with all the other men. I tried to stay as inconspicuous as possible during this part of my day.
One finally scrubbing to remove any remnants of ass slime and the slave was led to another area; where he received his steel collar and cuffs.
There was some discussion by the overseers about the information contained in the slave's information packet; but I didn't hear much of what was being said; other than a few chuckles.
I had never seen a slave have a cock and ball ring put on before, so watching one of the men, push the slaves nuts through a steel ring and then bend the slave's cock so that he could shove it through, sent a certain `tingle' through my own cock. Once it was snuggled against the slaves body, it made his whole private area stick out quite pretty looking.
The rope had now been totally removed from the slave, and his hands were now simply hooked behind his back via his new wrist cuffs. His new collar seemed `cold', but I was only comparing it to the collars on some of the slaves I' d seen photos of in school. Not even dad's slave (s) at the office had collars. I was getting a real live, first look, education here; and I wasn't going to let any of it go to waste.
The second slave taken out of the cage, and processed; was at first done much
like the first slave except; this slave was left with a wide strip of hair on his head all the way back to his neckline.
After the slave was all clean inside and out, someone shoved a butt plug up his ass. The whole thing looked almost real; as a long hairy tail dangled between his legs. I could only imagine that this large slave was destined to be pony trained; and my suspicions were correct, when I saw someone place a steel bit in the slaves mouth and then completely send the slave into total darkness by slipping a leather hood over his head, adjusting it so that the ends of the mouth bit stuck out each side of the hood.
The other major difference was the way they installed his collar and cuffs, which I hadn't seen done to the first slave. This `pony' slave had his cuffs and collar closed by the use of some weird looking tool; which apparently made it impossible to remove the steel, unless you cut it off. I was thankful that I didn't know of or have any friends that had gotten themselves enslaved, as it became clearer and clearer that not only was a man's rights stripped away from him but so was just about everything else that mankind could think of to take away.
I continued taking picture after picture until the second slave was kneeling
alongside of the first slave; watching and waiting for the next slave to be brought out. But for some strange reason, it was strongly suggested to me that perhaps I should make my way over to the building where these four slaves would be receiving the physical exams.
I wasn't about to argue the point, as I was only a guest here, on behalf of my fathers company. Even though I had seen the first two slaves stripped, cleaned and cuffed, there was something in the air about the remaining two slaves that perhaps they didn't want me to be privy too.
I graciously heeded their recommendation and left, noting that 616 was standing next to our pony slave, holding up a pail of water for him.
I quietly told him about going to the next segment of the slave's induction and he walked with me up to the next building over; before he stopped and appeared to have the need to speak.
"Sir, if this slave is permitted Sir, perhaps I could help Sir understand what might perhaps be happening in the other building which you were not privileged to witness."
I told the slave to continue and he immediately went into one of his non-stop, highly descriptive commentaries.
He said that a lot of times that if they overseers detected that one or more of the new slaves had homosexual tendencies; that sometimes, not always, that the new slave's butt was shared with all of the overseers in attendance. Sometimes they even `tested' the new slaves to see just how far they could push him or her before they would cower and do just about anything that was demanded of them.
616 even went as far as mentioning mild torture, shock treatments, and some things which I had no earthly idea what he was talking about. 616 said the reason they performed such activities in the first building was so that if any of the new slaves needed medical attention afterwards; they could be looked after during their initial physical examination. When he told me how many torn rectums he'd personally seen come out of the building, I was shocked and quite upset that such treatment of another human could be meted out in such a horrific manner.
Since I had arrived before any of the four slaves had; I stood there with 616
listening to him continue his dissertation of `standard events', all the while looking around seeing if our conversation could have been overheard or if I could see any other reprehensible activities taking place.
I couldn't believe that my dad or anyone in his employee didn't know that such things were happening at this place. Surely, if they knew they would have
conducted, or had conducted, an extensive investigation into such matters.
There was nothing, nothing at all, in any of my college lessons that came anywhere close to what 616 was telling me. And I began to wonder what exactly it was that the last intern for the company had reported and what had happened to him. All I could think of was that he probably realized how severe and demanding slave handling, training and processing could be; and had decided to change his occupation.
As for 616, he continued on, as if giving me a private tutoring lesson in slave management; assuming on his part that everything that went on around this place was just a `normal' everyday, acceptable practice for slaves who had been brought in from the outside world.
For himself, being a product of genetic insemination, he felt secure in his own world, as everything, and anything he knew was taught to him right here at Winding Hills. Everything in the outside world was something he felt strange about, except seeing the wide variety of males coming through the induction
center. All he knew was that the men and women brought here from outside his own world were bad and evil people; all needing the special attention, love and guidance of Mr. Trumbull's employees.
To Be Continued...
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