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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…

if you would like to read more of this story and other stories  by the 
SanibelBoys go  to

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Just be sure that  your profile shows your 'adult' age ,no exceptions,
thanks,
marcus, trey  and billy
 

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