PHILLIP'S STORY
Chapter 1:
"Today, I learn the Truth about Phillip"

This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over
the age of eighteen years

Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): September 2010
"An archive of my stories can be found at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

"The characters and ideas contained in this story are the
writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please,
respect the integrity of this story and don't do any rewrites,
alterations or add pictures."


Chapter 1: "Today, I learn the Truth about Phillip"

I'd always known there was something different about Phillip but
until today I didn't know what it was that set him apart.

Today is my eighteenth birthday and finally, I have been told the
truth about him.

                                                   
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Despite my father's best efforts to shield me from that truth,
I'd known for some years that his younger brother, my Uncle Kyle
was gay and that Phillip was his partner. Consciously, I'd played
along with my father's desire to protect me but as a smart-ass
teenager, I was secretly amused by this; I don't think adults are
aware of how knowledgeable or perceptive we teenagers really are.


So I accepted Phillip as my uncle's life partner but even here I
was puzzled. Phillip was white whereas my family are proudly
black. My father and Uncle Kyle are strong advocates of Black
Rule and I had been raised from my earliest years to believe in
it too. To my mind, a black man is vastly superior to a white man
and I couldn't understand why Uncle Kyle had chosen an `inferior'
white guy for his partner.

Phillip had always been there; he'd been on the scene for as far
back as I can remember. He'd been a part of my life but he was
always at the periphery and never at the centre of our family
circle. He was like a bit actor in a play - essential to the
story with just two lines to deliver - and hovering just offstage
waiting for the cue to enter.

He been part of our family celebrations and had attended all our
Thanksgiving Dinners and Christmas gatherings. He was present but
he seemed to keep himself apart. It wasn't aloofness or arrogance
on his part - indeed arrogance wasn't something I ever saw
Phillip display. Quite the opposite in fact; Phillip was reticent
and self-effacing.

The members of my family were polite to him but they maintained
an aloofness from him which in my earlier years I attributed to
his whiteness. After all for a family which is proudly black his
white presence could be seen almost as an embarrassment.

Thinking back I would have been six years or so when I'd been
introduced to Phillip. My Uncle Kyle lived on a large, allotment
out from the centre of the city. It covered some acres in area
and mostly it was wooded which gave it an air of private
seclusion. But from my boyish perspective the main feature of my
uncle's property was the large swimming-pool in which I loved to
swim.

I'd liked Phillip from the outset. I hadn't yet been fully
exposed to the concept of Black Rule - that came later under the
tutelage of my father and Uncle Kyle - so Phillip's whiteness
wasn't an issue for me. Phillip was kind to me and looked after
me and I responded to that. He was able to anticipate my every
need and he catered to them without hesitation. Instinctively, he
knew when I was hungry or thirsty and without my asking, he
always produced a snack or a drink for me. And he always spoke
kindly to me - something I appreciated.

My father and I often visited Uncle Kyle's - especially in the
summertime when I loved to swim in the pool. Phillip was always
hovering somewhere in the background ready to apply sunscreen to
protect me from the sun or to hand me a cool drink when I was
thirsty. Yes, in those early days I saw Phillip as a kindly
person always considerate of others. His kindness wasn't just for
me - it extended to others - and it seemed to me that my father
and uncle played on Phillip's good nature.

Whether it was poolside, at the BBQ or in the house, they made
demands on Phillip which to my boyish mind seemed unreasonable.
Their requests were more in the nature of demands and never once
did I hear them say `please' or `thank you'. They simply took
Phillip for granted. And most strangely of all, I never once
heard them call Phillip by his name.

Whenever we visited for a meal it was always Phillip who did all
the preparation and serving of the meal. Even though he sat at
the table with us he appeared uncomfortable - almost as though he
felt he shouldn't be there. He remained silent throughout the
meal and spoke only in reply when he was spoken to and even then
he kept his answers brief. Whenever, my uncle directed him to
serve the next course or to pour the coffee he'd move quickly and
silently to do so. It puzzled me; why couldn't my uncle pour his
own coffee or top up his wine glass. Why was it always poor
Phillip who did this?

My uncle would ask me if I wanted more dessert, an ice cream or
lemonade and if I said yes then he'd send Phillip off to the
kitchen to fetch it for me. On one occasion, as I tucked into a
large serve of vanilla and chocolate ice cream, I asked Phillip
if he liked ice cream as much as I do. His answer was brief - a
shy `yes'.  I asked - `why don't you have some' - and he looked
to my uncle almost as if he was afraid to answer. I remember my
uncle answering for him and today, as I become aware of their
relationship, I'll understand why. My uncle's answer was
definitive and had an air of finality about it.

"Phillip doesn't eat ice cream. It's not good for him. I don't
want him putting on weight."

My father and uncle would discuss many things over the dinner
table. Politics, their professions, the economy, sport and the
activities of their friends were always topics up for discourse
and again I noticed they never included Phillip in any of this.
Not once did I ever hear either of them ask Phillip about any
aspect of his life. It was as though Phillip was a `non-person'
and didn't really exist.

But the one topic they both enjoyed, and would debate for hours,
was Black Rule. It was here that my own interest in the subject
was stoked as I listened to them speak passionately about the
superiority of we blacks and how the proper place for a white is
in subservience to us. It was through them that I was eventually
convinced that as a black person I am infinitely superior to a
white one.

Again Phillip played no part in these discussions; he stayed
politely mute and listened. As I grew older, I wondered how he
felt as he heard his whiteness denigrated and the superiority of
the black man lauded. These conversations demeaned him and I
wondered - where is his self-respect? Why does he allow himself
to be embarrassed like this and why doesn't he counter their
opinions with arguments of his own? Does he have opposing views
and if so why doesn't he advance them?  Surely even a white man
has vestiges of pride? Where is Phillip's pride in what he is?  I
puzzled over this for several years.

On one memorable occasion as we ate Sunday lunch, I watched as
Phillip picked at his food - and that was another thing I'd
noticed over the years Phillip seemed to eat as little as
possible - and he seemed to be ever vigilant; always on the watch
for our needs. Should one of us empty his plate, Phillip would
get up from his seat and immediately remove it from the table and
take it to the kitchen ready to serve the next course. Should my
father or uncle require another beer from the refrigerator then
it was Phillip who fetched it; never them. Poor Phillip! How
could he enjoy his meal when he was constantly interrupted
meeting our needs? Curiosity got the better of me and I asked.

"Why is Phillip waiting on us?"

Obviously, my question wasn't anticipated for there was a
momentary, awkward silence. And as I looked at Phillip I could
see him blushing furiously from embarrassment. Finally my Uncle
Kyle answered my question.

"It's because Phillip likes to do these things. He's happiest
when he's waiting on us."

The answer went some way to satisfying my curiosity - but not
completely. Over time I would again raise this with my father and
always his replies were vague and non-committal. One day, whether
out of his exasperation with my persistence, he told me that
Phillip was Uncle Kyle's servant.

This really surprised me. The concept of having a servant was an
alien one. The thought that one man existed to serve another was
so strange to my early teen-aged thinking. I knew my uncle was a
successful professional who had a high-powered position in the
City but I'd never thought of him in need of a servant. My father
and I lived alone and we did everything and now I thought how
`cool' it would be to have someone like Phillip to do all my
chores, our laundry, the cooking, housework and gardening.   I
asked my father why we couldn't have a servant like my uncle. His
answer was evasive and he told me we'd consider having our own
servant when I was older.

Now that I knew Phillip was only a `servant' there was a subtle
shift in my attitude towards him. Always he'd been `there' as
some type of extension of my Uncle Kyle and I suppose as a young
child I'd looked on him vaguely as some kind of relative. And
certainly his kindness and devotion to me had helped me maintain
that impression.

Now however, as my uncle's servant, a barrier sprang up between
us. I now looked on him if not contemptuously - that came later -
but with disdain. I no longer saw him a member of our family and
whenever we visited my uncle's home I followed my father's
example and ignored him. I no longer said `please' or `thank you'
to him. I had no need to for he is only a servant. Instead of
asking, I now ordered him and he always obeyed.

I never thought what effect this was having on Phillip. Why
should I? He was only my uncle's servant after all. As I grew
into my teens and joined with my father and uncle in their
conversations it never concerned me that Phillip was left out. I
never worried at his `exclusion' from our camaraderie.

I now accepted that Phillip's role was to stand poolside as all
three of us swam or relaxed in the heat ever ready to bring us a
towel or a cool, refreshing drink; or else sweating over a hot
barbeque cooking lunch or supper for us. He stood by as we ate
and drank and he was always at hand to refill our plates and
replenish our glasses. I never saw Phillip eat or drink in our
presence and in my indifference to him I didn't care. After all
he was only doing the job that my uncle paid him to do.

Now that I was aware that he was a servant, my father and uncle
seemed more relaxed and they seemed to approve of the way I was
treating him. Sometimes when I spoke harshly to Phillip, I would
see my father and uncle exchange knowing looks and smiles.

From time to time, my uncle would send Phillip over to our home
to attend to some menial task or chore and I would be `in charge'
of him in my father's absence.

My uncle had instructed Phillip that he must take his direction
from me and this played to my sense of empowerment. I delighted
in ordering him in what to do and always when he'd finished he
came to me and politely ask if I would inspect his work. Of
course, his work was never up to my standard - I deliberately
made it so - and I would loudly abuse him for his slipshod
workmanship. I would order him to do it again and again until I
was satisfied. Phillip was always acquiescent and did so without
protest. Once I was finally satisfied, I'd dismiss him and send
him home to my uncle's house.

My uncle always followed up these visits with a phone call to see
if my father or I were happy with Phillip's work and I never gave
him any credit. I always had some complaint about him - he was
careless or too slow and I complained how he never got the job
right first time and that I'd made him redo it until I was
completely satisfied.

At that stage I was unaware that this would cause Phillip to
incur my uncle's anger and that he paid a high price for my
needless complaints.

My early teen-aged years were exciting; they were full of
exploration and self-discovery. Phillip didn't play much of a
roll in my life during this time but he was always there, in the
background as my uncle's servant. My life was moving into new
areas and I was too pre-occupied with myself to give Phillip any
thought. On those occasions when we did come into contact I
ignored him and treated with the disdain that I felt he deserved.
After all, what man would allow him to be used as a servant by
another? I decided only a weak, white man like Phillip and my
developing notions of Black Supremacy strengthened my growing
contempt for his position.

During this time, I was kept busy with my schooling and/or
socialising with my black friends. My chief pre-occupation was
with myself and my development as a young adult. I was aware of
the physical changes taking place within me and these opened up
new emotions and exciting fields of self-exploration. As I moved
into young manhood, my notions of Black Rule were strengthened
and they were added to by my father and Uncle Kyle. Soon I came
to accept that white people were indeed inferior to me and that
my dark skin was something to be proud of - it gave me an
advantage over them.

My belief in my Black Superiority fuelled my disdain for Phillip
until it became almost contempt. I was now convinced that he was
my inferior - both racially and socially. Whenever I visited my
uncle's home I ignored him completely. I never acknowledged his
polite welcome as he opened my uncle's front door and I stared
past him as though he didn't exist. What once I'd regarded as his
kindness I now saw as obsequiousness; an indication of his
servile nature.

Now, whenever I spoke to Phillip it was to simply give him an
order or to rebuke him. I never thanked him or spoke kindly to
him. Why should I? He was only my Uncle Kyle's servant after all.
And I regarded his `eagerness' to please my father, uncle and me
as pathetic. He was truly a servant and he was living testimony
to the notion of Black Supremacy over the white race. Everything
about Phillip re-enforced this in my mind.

I recall an incident that occurred several months before my
seventeenth birthday. It was late summer and the city had
sweltered through a week of above average temperatures and high
humidity. Everywhere tempers were frayed and people sought relief
from the heat. My father and Uncle Kyle organised a trip to the
beach for me and some of my friends - and of course Phillip came
too.

When we arrived at the beach and parked our vehicles, we made a
quick dash for the sea. The water looked so inviting and we
didn't want to waste time. While we stripped off and plunged into
the water, Dad and Uncle Kyle staked out a spot on the sand to
use as our base and then sent Phillip back to the car to fetch
our gear. I don't know how many trips Phillip made to move our
gear from the car to beach; several I should think as we'd all
come loaded up with portable coolers full of drinks and food and
of course there were our towels, other beach gear and balls for
touch football and volley ball.  At one stage as I cooled off in
the water, I glanced back and saw Phillip staggering under the
heavy load. But I didn't give him a second thought. He was only
doing what my uncle paid him to do.

Phillip was stripped to the waist and wore loose fitting, long
legged, dark blue shorts. For a white man, he has an impressive
upper body and I knew he and my uncle worked out regularly. His
upper torso was strong and muscular and devoid of any fat or
`love handles'. He was sweating so profusely that his body
glistened in the strong sunlight.

And when eventually I and my friends had finished swimming,
Phillip was standing dutifully at the water's edge with our
towels ready to hand to us. And as he did so, he respectfully
addressed each of my friends as `Sir'. My ego swelled; my  black
friends couldn't help but be impressed at having this white man -
so much older than us - serving them, acknowledging their
superiority over him and having him address them as `Sir'.

After that, I deliberately went about impressing my friends by
making things difficult for Phillip. I kept him `on his toes'
running and fetching for all of us and I have to be honest and
say I fabricated situations where Phillip was made to serve our
needs. I ordered him to serve us drinks as we sat on the beach
and when one of my friends realised he'd left his sunscreen in
one of the vehicles, I ordered Phillip to fetch it to him. My
friend started to protest but I insisted that Phillip go to the
car and I told my friend.

"That's why Phillip is here; to do these things for us."

But I wasn't pleased with Phillip. To my mind he'd dawdled back
to the car and taken his time in returning. When he returned I
loudly rebuked him.

"You stupid, white boy! When I give you an order you need to move
quickly. In future when I tell you to do something get that lazy,
white ass of yours into gear and - MOVE IT!"

I should have been ashamed of my treatment of Phillip - but I
wasn't. I was enjoying my power over him.

Phillip had the good grace to look crestfallen and his response
to my reprimand was suitably contrite.

"I'm sorry I took so long, Sir. I'll do better in future."

If I'd looked around at the people sitting nearby I would see
they were shocked by my actions. But perhaps they were more
shocked at Phillip's servile re-action to my very public
reprimand of him.  But Dad and Uncle Kyle found the whole thing
highly amusing and they were laughing heartily.

One of my friends asked why I treated and spoke to Phillip in
this manner. I replied.

"Phillip's only a servant! He's my Uncle Kyle's servant."

Another friend replied cryptically.

"He's not a servant! He's a slave!"

I disregarded this comment. Phillip isn't a slave - he's a
servant.

                                           
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Today is my eighteenth birthday!

I have attained my majority and my adult world is now open and
beckons to me to move forward. My future stretches out before me
and it is full of promise and the prospect of new adventures.

This morning, Dad and I are to visit Uncle Kyle. This is normal
practice on my birthdays; I'd always visited my Uncle Kyle and
these are now an established part of my birthday ritual. He is my
father's younger brother and they have always been close. And I'd
always been close to my uncle as well. After my father, I loved
him best of all and I knew he felt the same about me. And he'd
always been generous on my birthdays and lavished me with gifts.

Dad told me at breakfast this morning that today is a special
day. He told me now I have attained my majority; there is
something that he and Uncle Kyle need to tell me. I was curious
and asked my father to tell me more but he just laughed and told
me I'd have to wait until we arrived at Uncle Kyle's.

During the drive out to Uncle Kyle's, my mind is working
overtime. What is the special something they need to tell me? Is
it a special present? I try to picture what it might be but my
imagination fails me. In my growing impatience, I press hard for
my father to tell me more. But he just laughs and tells me I must
wait; anyway we'll be there in a few more minutes and all will be
revealed.

Today, something is amiss. As we ring the doorbell, Uncle Kyle
opens the door and ushers us in. He gives me a welcoming hug and
wishes me a cheerful `happy birthday'.

This is so unusual. In all my visits, Uncle Kyle has NEVER opened
the front door to us. That was always done by Phillip who would
open the door then stand aside and wait silently for us to enter
before closing it.

Where is Phillip? Perhaps he's working in another part of the
house and didn't hear the door-bell. I decide this is most
unlikely. More probably he is at work in the vegetable garden out
back of the house. But I'm still puzzled. My uncle knew we were
coming over to visit and I know he'd have made sure Phillip was
on hand to open the door.

Then I wonder - has something happened to Phillip? Is he sick? 
(Please God - No!). Or has he left my uncle's employment after
all these years and moved to newer, greener pastures? These
thoughts disturb me. Suddenly the possibility that Phillip is no
longer a part of my life upsets me. My earliest recollections
always include Phillip; he'd always been `there' and the thought
that he could be gone fills me with sadness. Is this the
something special that my father and uncle have to tell me? Are
they to tell me that Phillip is no longer a part of our lives?
For the first time in many years I think kindly of Phillip and I
hope he is alright.

Uncle Kyle moves us into the lounge where he proposes a birthday
toast in my honour and gives me my presents. There are the usual
token ones and they include a book that I'd recently mentioned to
him, a Blu- Ray DVD and a casual sports shirt and chinos. Then he
hands me two envelopes and, in my excitement, I tear open the
first which obviously holds a birthday card. Included with the
card is a gift voucher for a sizeable sum of money and uncle's
handwritten instructions to spend it on myself in any way I wish.

The second, larger envelope however is mysterious. It's made of
expensive, embossed paper and has an almost legal appearance
about it. Its appearance tells me to `open with care' and it
certainly isn't one I'd rip open with my usual birthday gift
abandonment. I very carefully open the envelope and remove an
official looking document from it. As I read the document I am
staggered. It tells me Uncle Kyle has set up a trust fund to pay
my way through college and there'll be sufficient funds after my
graduation to allow me to buy my own city apartment and to
subsidise my early years as I establish my career.

I'm overwhelmed by his generosity and I take him in my arms and
hug him as I thank him. Uncle Kyle is very dear to me. We'd
always been close and he'd always spoiled me. But this is so
unexpected. I'm overcome with emotion and I'm moved to tears.

So this is the `special' something about which he and Dad had
been so mysterious. My birthday is complete.

For the next thirty minutes or so we drink canned beer and talk
about my future. Both these special men treat me as an adult and
tell me I must choose my own career path but pledge their support
and help to me. They are treating me like a man and suddenly I
feel very grown up and totally adult. I have acquired a new
maturity.

But something is missing from my celebrations; today is different
to my previous birthdays. Always on those occasions, Phillip had
been present waiting silently in the background ready to serve us
drinks and refreshment.  And always there'd been a birthday cake
for me. I never knew that Phillip had made these cakes himself
and that for him they were true labours of love. My uncle thought
nothing of his efforts on my behalf and so it wasn't worth
mentioning to me and no recognition was ever given to Phillip.
And of course, Phillip would never think to tell me he'd baked
and decorated a birthday cake especially for me.

Strangely, I am missing Phillip and so I blurt out.

"Uncle Kyle. Where is Phillip? "

I see my father and Uncle Kyle exchange nervous glances before my
uncle speaks.

"Jon! Sit down please? There's something your father and I must
tell you about Phillip."

"He's alright isn't he?" I ask anxiously, "He's not sick or he
hasn't left you has he uncle?"

"Jon! Stop worrying. No, Phillip hasn't left me and he's not
sick. In fact, he's in rude good health as you'll see for
yourself in a few minutes. No, there is something else we must
tell you about Phillip."

I'm relieved to hear that Phillip isn't sick or that he has left
my uncle's employ. But I wish they'd tell me what is going on.

"What then? Come on Uncle Kyle tell me. Don't keep me in
suspense."

"Jon, you have always known Phillip and you know he has a special
place in my household, don't you?"

"Uncle Kyle, I can't remember when Phillip wasn't around and yes
- I know he is your servant."

"That's right, Jon. Phillip is my servant but he is a special
kind of servant and what I'm about to tell you will come as a
surprise. So are you ready for it?"

"Please uncle? Tell me! Don't keep me in suspense. How is Phillip
special?"

"Well Jon. Phillip isn't really my servant. Phillip is a slave.
And he's my slave."

I'm made speechless by my uncle's revelation about Phillip.
Surely he's joking. There aren't slaves any more True there are
rumours of slaves existing in some parts of the African continent
but not in this country. Slavery was outlawed here over one
hundred and fifty years ago. The best I can manage is an
incredulous exclamation.

"How? Why? I don't understand. What do you mean he's a slave?
There are no modern day slaves. It's illegal."

"Jon, you're right about slavery being illegal. But slavery does
exist. It's a voluntary slavery where the slave willingly submits
to a Master. Some men are born to be slaves while others are
meant to be Masters. Your father and I are both Masters just as
Phillip is a slave. Men like Phillip need to subjugate themselves
to a strong, dominant Master. Without that, their lives lack
meaning and are incomplete. Conversely, men like your father and
I need to have a slave to serve us. Without a slave of our own
our lives lack purpose. We need to dominate and to be served by a
slave.  Are you following me, Jon?"

"I think so, Uncle Kyle. All this is coming as a shock to me. I
never had any idea about any of this. Why didn't you ever tell
me? Why did you keep it secret from me?"

"Jon, you were too young to understand and besides we wanted you
to grow up normally before we exposed you to this lifestyle. You
need to consider whether or not it is how you want to live your
life."

"But Dad! You've never given any indication that you wanted a
slave. Why haven't you?"

"I wanted to protect you until you came of age, Jon. But believe
me, now that you are, I'm on the lookout to own my very own
slave. And like Phillip he'll need to be white. White boys make
the best slaves. Jon, I'll miss you while you're away at college
but I'll have my new slave for company."

"When did Phillip become a slave? How did he know he wanted to be
a slave?"

"Jon, men like Phillip are born with a slave nature. From an
early age, he'd have fantasised about becoming a slave. I knew
Phillip before he became a slave but I recognised him as one very
early on. Indeed it was I who mentored Phillip in the
Master/slave lifestyle. I hoped Phillip would become my slave but
I left that choice to him and I didn't coerce him into it. The
decision was his alone but I've got to say he made me very happy
the day he agreed to become my slave."

"How did he do that? What happened?"

"It wasn't a quick decision on Phillip's part. After all the
decision to give up so much in service to another is a hard one
to make and I know Phillip's emotions were on high alert. We
discussed it numerous times and I never kept anything back from
him. I never hid from him the hardships he'd face as my slave. I
told him of the humiliation of total nakedness, the restricted
diet, the silence I would expect from him, the total submission
to my will and the unquestioning obedience to my commands and the
punishments he'd face if he displeased me. I held nothing back
and then I left it to Phillip to make the final decision."

As I listen to my uncle's words things begin to make sense. Now I
know why Phillip is the way he is. My uncle's explanations are
striking a chord within me. Is it possible that like him and my
father I have a Master's temperament? Suddenly I recall my
uncle's words about total nakedness. Is Phillip naked I wonder? I
want to know more.

"How did Phillip become your slave, Uncle Kyle? What happened?"

"That was the happiest day for both of us. Once Phillip had
decided to submit to me, he simply stripped naked, knelt at my
feet renounced his freedom and gave me ownership over him.
Phillip was quite emotional - as was I - and he cried with
happiness. It was as though a great weight had been lifted from
him. When I accepted him as my slave, he kissed by feet in homage
and called me `Master' for the first time. Then I commanded him
to stand and placed my collar around his neck."

"Phillip was naked? He called you Master? What did you do then?"

"Yes Phillip was naked then and has remained so in my presence
ever since - except of course when you came to visit. It would
have been inappropriate for you to see him without his clothes.
Although that could change now that you're an adult. And yes he
calls me Master- always. What did I do? I ordered him to his feet
and I examined his body as a slave for the very first time. This
was symbolic of course and by placing my hands on his body I laid
claim to it as my own. It was an emotional time for both of us;
almost biblical."

"And he kissed your feet?"

"Yes as he still does at least once a day. And now Phillip is
ready to kiss your feet and pay you the homage due to you as his
black superior. As a member of my family, Phillip is now obliged
to show his respect to you and to serve you as I determine. Jon,
are you ready for this?

What can I say? My uncle's revelation that Phillip is a slave has
taken me by surprise and left me bewildered. I'd not had trouble
viewing Phillip as my uncle's servant but accepting him as a
slave is another matter. How do I re-act to his presence? What if
he is naked? Do I speak to him? What do I do? These questions
tumble around in the vortex of my mind and are left unanswered.
Yet I hear myself answering my uncle's question - "Jon, are you
ready for this?"

Through the fog of my confusion, I hear my hoarse reply.

"Yes Uncle Kyle. I'm ready."

My uncle leaves the room to fetch Phillip and I'm left alone with
my father. My thoughts are with Uncle Kyle and Phillip. Now that
I know the true nature of their relationship other questions
arise in my mind.

Intuitively, I'd known for some time that Uncle Kyle was gay - I
have absolutely no problem with this - and I'd always supposed
that he'd had sex with Phillip. But this Master and slave
business is new to me and I now wonder about their lives. Can a
Master have feelings for another man who is his slave? I find the
concept of such love as alien to my understanding. To my mind,
its unevenness makes it unworkable and unfair. Naively, I imagine
all gratification is with the Master and not with his slave; it
is his will that would always prevail. But my curiosity has been
aroused and I ask my father.

"Dad, do Uncle Kyle and Phillip have ..............." My question
tapers off in my embarrassment. How do I broach such a personal
matter and do I have the right to ask it.

My father finishes my question for me.

"You want to know whether your uncle and Phillip have sex." Of
course they do. And from what Kyle tells me it's very good sex.
He speaks glowingly of Phillip's `talents'. Jon, the relationship
your uncle and Phillip share is an unusual one. They may be
Master and slave but they are also lovers. They always have been
and I should imagine they will remain together until the end of
their lives."

"But Dad, I don't understand. How can they be a loving couple
when one is the Master and the other is his slave? Doesn't that
make their partnership uneven?"

"Jon, you don't understand and I wouldn't expect you to. I know
the news about your uncle and Phillip has come as a shock to you
and I'm guessing you're confused - and rightly so."

"You're right about that Dad. It is a shock. I'd always thought
of Phillip as Uncle Kyle's servant."

"And he is Jon. But Phillip is a servant in a very special way.
The relationship between a Master and his slave is unique but it
is a complementary one. Each has something he wants from the
other and each has something to give to the other."

How does that work Dad? I don't understand."

"Well Phillip is a slave by nature and your uncle is a Master by
nature. Just as I am and I suspect you will be too. Phillip's
true nature requires him to live his life in total submission and
service to another man. He found his fulfilment in abdicating all
of his responsibilities and subjugating himself to your uncle.
Phillip is happiest when he is serving his Master as a slave. A
slave places his Master above all else and his real and only
purpose in life is to ensure his Master's happiness and
wellbeing. Anything less than this and Phillip would see himself
as a failure. A true slave wants nothing for himself - his whole
being belongs to his Master. And Phillip is a true slave in every
sense of the word."

"OK, Dad! I get that. I can see what Uncle Kyle gets from
Phillip. But what about Phillip? What's in it for him?"

"Jon, your uncle loves Phillip with all his heart. Phillip knows
that and that's enough reward for him. However, when a Master
accepts another man as his slave, he has obligations to the slave
and he assumes responsibilities for him. A true Master loves and
cherishes his slave and he is protective of his slave; he'll do
all within his power to see that the slave stays healthy and that
the slave's inherent needs are met. The slave's wellbeing and
happiness is as important to the Master as the Master's are to
his slave. Can you understand that, Jon?"

"I think so, Dad. I'm getting the picture. But how does Uncle
Kyle make sure he's meeting Phillip's needs?"

"Because Phillip feels and thinks like a slave he requires firm
direction from your uncle. It is inconceivable to Phillip that
he'd ever make a decision for himself - this is alien to his
mindset. So Uncle Kyle must decide everything for Phillip. What
clothes he'll wear - though in Phillip's case that's not such an
issue - what foods he'll eat, what chores he must do, where and
when he'll sleep and in Phillip's case he is under house curfew.
He can never leave your uncle's house without permission."

"What happens if Phillip breaks Uncle Kyle's rules?"

"Then he is severely punished."

"How is he punished?"

"There are many forms of punishment and over the years your uncle
has used them all on Phillip. There's emotional punishment like
Phillip being sent to face a wall and reflect on his demeanour.
Or he's sent off to write an essay or lines setting out how he `d
displeased his Master after which he must read it out aloud to
your uncle and apologise."

"That sounds childish to me, Dad. Just like a teacher punishing a
kid at school."

"It's not dissimilar, Jon. In many ways a slave is childlike. He
needs to be taught how to behave and he has to be shown what
acceptable behaviour is. Remember what I said earlier about
slaves not thinking for themselves."

"It still seems rather tame punishment to me though. Is that the
worst that's happened to Phillip?"

"No! There's also physical pain. This depends on the seriousness
of his misdeed and it may be a simple hand spanking where Phillip
lies across your uncle's knees and has his bare ass smacked. For
a more serious breach your uncle uses a cane and for a major one
then he breaks out his whip. But from what I understand the whip
isn't used too frequently. I assume Phillip is too well-behaved
to warrant its use. But I do know he often receives a hand
spanking or a caning from your uncle."

The picture of Phillip lying over Uncle Kyle's lap and being
spanked has aroused me and my cock has sprung to life. I try to
imagine myself in Uncle Kyle's place with Phillip over my knees
and with his white boy's ass upturned to me and waiting for my
hand to fall upon it. The thought is highly erotic and my cock
pulses with excitement. This notion of Phillip being punished
fascinates me and I ask my father for more details.

"Dad, have you ever seen Uncle Kyle punish Phillip?"

"Yes, I have. And on occasions I've had to punish Phillip too."

My father's admission surprises me and I wonder about the
circumstances behind him punishing Phillip. I never knew this.
I'm about to ask him but he anticipates my question and
continues.

"Whenever your uncle is away on a business trip, he leaves me in
charge of Phillip. I call in regularly to check and see that he's
alright and not `slackening off' in his Master's absence and
neglecting his duties. Sometimes I've found that he isn't
attending to his chores as diligently as when your uncle is at
home and so I've punished him for his disobedience."

"How? What do you do, Dad?"

"Again it depends on the degree of his neglect. Mostly it's a
hand spanking but last time your uncle was away it was more
serious. I needed to give Phillip a good thrashing with the cane
to make him smarten up his ideas. And of course, on his return, I
reported to your uncle that I had punished Phillip in his
absence.  Naturally, Uncle Kyle became very upset because Phillip
had let him down. So Phillip was punished a second time by his
Master. And quite rightly so!"

But Dad! Doesn't Phillip object to being punished?"

"No, not at all Jon! Phillip knows when he's done the wrong thing
and he fully expects to be punished. That's part of his slave
personality. All slaves know they'll be punished by their Masters
if they offend. Indeed Phillip would think poorly of his Master
if he wasn't punished."

"Dad, can I ask you something about Uncle Kyle and Phillip? It's
a very personal and I don't quite know how to ask you this but
I'm wondering ..........."

"Son, I think I know where you're going with this. You want to
know about their sex life. Am I correct?'

"Yes Dad. I'm curious about that."

Well Masters and slaves are no different to normal adult people,
Jon. They do enjoy an active sex life even if it is a little
unorthodox. As you'd expect the Master is the dominant one in the
relationship and the slave is the submissive. Can you understand
what I'm saying?"

"Yeah Dad, what you're saying is that the Master `sets the
running' and the slave follows. Am I right?"

"Correct!  It's usually the Master who initiates sex with his
slave

I can't believe what I'm hearing. I'm shocked but all that my
uncle and father have told me and all this talk about, Masters,
slaves and punishment is a revelation. I find myself warming to
the concept and I want to know more. There are so many questions
I want to ask of my father but before I have a chance to put them
to him the door opens and Uncle Kyle re-enters the room.

And walking slightly behind him with downcast eyes is Phillip in
all his naked glory. The sight of him causes me to catch my
breath. The silver collar around Phillip's neck glints in the
morning sunlight shining through the French doors opening on to
the outdoor patio and castes its dancing reflection on the
ceiling.

Uncle Kyle directs Phillip, to a spot some four or five feet in
front of where I'm sitting and commands him to.

"Stop!" Then Uncle Kyle raps out a further order to "Display!"

Immediately, Phillip places both hands behind his neck, draws his
body to its full height and tightens it so that every muscle
group is highlighted. I can't look into his face as his eyes are
looking at an imaginary spot on the floor somewhere between where
he stands and where I'm sitting. But I can tell by the quick rise
and fall of his chest and the twitching of his stomach muscles
that he is nervous. His nervousness matches my own. How do I
respond to his presence? What do my uncle and father expect of
me?

I have seen Phillip semi-naked many times over the years.
Whenever he served us at the pool or at the BBQ, he'd been
stripped to the waist and usually wore shorts; sometimes he'd
even been bare footed. And there had been one or two occasions
when Dad and I had visited Uncle Kyle unexpectedly and I'd seen
Phillip dressed in nothing more than bikini briefs which
concealed very little and suggested much.

But this is the first time I've seen Phillip completely nude and
he takes my breath away. He is magnificent in his nakedness and I
am entranced by him. I can understand why Uncle Kyle keeps him
naked. Starting at the top of his head, my eyes travel slowly
down over the front of his body to his feet. As I do so, my cock
begins to dance a `merry jig' within the tight confinement of my
under briefs. I feel it give one or two little spurts and
guiltily I look down to see if there is an embarrassing,
tell-tale, damp patch at the front of my trousers.

Fortunately, there isn't.

I suppose one doesn't get to fully appreciate the perfection of
the male physique until it is completely naked and displayed in
front of you much as Phillip is now. I am an admirer of the male
body and take pride in my own appearance. I visit a gym several
times a week to work out and I'm proud of my own burgeoning
muscularity. One of the perks of visiting the gymnasium is that I
get to surreptitiously make comparisons between my body and those
of the other young men around me - especially as we clean up in
the open, communal showers and dry and dress ourselves in the
locker room.  I suppose this can be seen as voyeurism on my part
and I always go to great pains to hide this interest in my fellow
fitness fanatics.

But this isn't voyeurism; Phillip stands before me proudly
displaying his body for my appreciation. True, he is nervous -
the fluttering of his belly tells me this. But I am too.  What do
we each expect of the other? Am I to speak to Phillip? I don't
know the protocols that govern his behaviour and I don't want to
show my gaucheness in front of my father and uncle. But the one
thing I'm sure of is that Phillip's body is enticing and I want
to place my hands upon him. But can I do that? He is slave and am
I allowed to touch Uncle Kyle's property without his permission.
I don't know what to do.

So I just content myself with a visual appreciation his body.
With his hands placed behind his head, his musculature is thrown
into sharp relief. His heavy breathing displays his strong chest
to perfection and I'm fascination by the rippling of his
abdominals. For the first time I notice that Phillip is `smooth';
he is devoid of body hair and he is without his pubes. This only
enhances his genitals and his ample, cut cock -which incidentally
is `at rest' - lies on top of his ball sac. In his nervousness,
his scrotum has tightened itself and drawn his two generous sized
balls in closer to his body.  But it's not too hard for me to
imagine them hanging low between his strong thighs.

"Turn slowly!"

Uncle Kyle's instruction to his slave cuts into my thoughts and
takes me by surprise. I watch as Phillip slowly turns to the left
until his profile is in outline. Then he pauses on his Master's
order to.

"Stop!'

I'm intrigued by Phillip's instant obedience. He re-acts
immediately to my uncle's imperious demands as though he is
programmed to do so. And he does so without question or
hesitation. For the first time in my life I'm seeing the complete
control that one man can exert over another. And I like what I
see and hear. I imagine myself in my uncle's place commanding
Phillip to obey me. Gradually, I'm warming to this idea of me
being a Master in control of a slave. It has a new appeal to me.

Phillip stands sideways to me and I now see him in profile. I'm
able to appreciate the contours of his body; the rounded
pectorals and the indentation of his stomach are thrown into
relief. As are the concave indent of his back and the flaring
mounds of his buttocks. I now notice the uniform colour of his
body. Phillip is naturally white but his body is tanned all over.
There is no jarring whiteness of the midriff - something I'd
often seen at my gym and which for some reasons grates on me - to
spoil the his overall appearance. Obviously, my uncle makes
Phillip work in the nude and I now realise this is the reason for
their seclusion. And who could blame Uncle Kyle for this. I can
picture his slave working naked in the garden and sweating under
the hot sun. Once more my cock betrays me.

Acting on my uncle's instructions, Phillip turns until he has his
back to me and stops.

My gaze wanders down his V-shaped back from the broad shoulders
to the narrow waist before it stops at the twin orbs of his ass.
Like his stomach muscles these too are twitching from his
nervousness but it isn't this that holds my attention. Rather it
is the pattern of stripes that run roughly parallel across his
buttocks and their redness is evidence of very recent punishment.
This excites me and I need to know more.

Uncle Kyle, has Phillip been punished recently?"

"Indeed he has Jon! It was only last night in fact. I found it
necessary to give him thirty strokes of the cane."

"Why, what did he do?"

"It wasn't so much a case of what he did. Rather it had more to
do with what he didn't do. Yesterday morning, I gave him his work
programme for the day which wasn't all that onerous and he should
have coped with it with time to spare. But he didn't and he was
punished for his slackness. Isn't that so Phillip?"

"Yes Master!"

Phillip has spoken for the first time and he has called my uncle
`Master' in a voice that is both contrite and humble. The
symbolism of this is powerfully suggestive. In the use of that
one word - Master - Phillip has acknowledged, in my presence,
that he is a slave and my uncle is his owner.

And the sight of his striped ass is so highly charged and
inviting. To my mind, Phillip's ass begs to be punished. My
father had told me just a few minutes ago of how he and Uncle
Kyle sometimes hand spank Phillip's white ass and at other times
they have caned it. And he'd also mentioned a whip. Little
shivers of erotic pleasure travel up and down my spine. I am as
sexually aroused as never before.

All this goes to the core of my belief in Black Supremacy. Before
today I was fully converted to the idea that the black man is
vastly superior to his white counterpart. And this naked, white
slave standing before me confirms this in my mind.

The realisation that a white boy can be subjugated and enslaved
by a black Master and then can be controlled by him is
revelatory. Phillip is the living proof of these new insights as
he stands before me. He has opened my eyes to new possibilities
and I am excited. Is it possible that one day I could be a black
Master with a white slave of my own. Why not? My uncle owns
Phillip and my father said a short time ago that he is now to
acquire a white slave of his own. So there are no barriers to me
becoming a black Master one day.

The stripes on Phillip's ass hold my attention and I need to know
more.

"Uncle Kyle, do you have to punish Phillip very often?"

"No, Jon. Not these days.  Generally speaking Phillip behaves
himself, does what is I required of him and so I only need to
punish him very irregularly. But it wasn't always like that. In
the early days I seemed to be chastising him all the time. I'd
established rules that controlled his behaviour and he seemed to
have difficulty memorising them and putting them into practice.
It was a learning experience for both of us. But this isn't
unusual in a new Master and slave relationship. The Master needs
to set the rules and then to ensure his slave follows them. To
his credit, Phillip was willing to learn them; although initially
there were some areas of concern for me."

"What were they, Uncle Kyle?"

"Annoying little habits like speaking out of turn in the company
of his black superiors. Really it took twelve months to break him
of that habit. But worst of all was his white pride. He allowed
this to show through at times and he was punished hard for it.
But fortunately he did learn and now Phillip is a firm believer
in the concept of black Masters and white slaves.

Aren't you Phillip?"

"Yes Master! The true role of any white boy is to serve a Black
Master as his slave. My proper place is kneeling at your feet
Master."

"Good boy! And speaking of kneeling, it's almost time for you to
pay homage to my nephew, Sir Jon. But first, Jon - do you want to
examine Phillip?"

This talk of Phillip paying me homage arouses me to newer
heights. How is he to pay homage to me? And my uncle's invitation
to inspect his slave both excites and intimidates me. I want to
very much but how is this done?  It would be rude of me to refuse
my uncle's offer and anyway I don't want to. But the thought of
exploring Phillip's nakedness for the first time daunts me.
Playing for time, I ask my uncle.

"What about Phillip, Uncle Kyle? Will he mind?"

"Jon, Phillip is a slave and he has no say in the matter. I've
invited you to inspect him and he knows that is my wish so he'll
happily submit to you examining him. And I'll let you in on a
secret. Phillip would be most disappointed if you didn't `look
him over'. He's been looking forward to this day for so long.
He's always known this day would come. Your father and I have
discussed it in front of him many times so he's aware of what is
expected of him. Anyway he has told me on numerous occasions that
he looked forward to your eighteenth birthday so that he can
serve you as a true slave. So Jon -don't be shy. Phillip isn't
and he'll be disappointed if you don't check him out"

So what options do I have other than to meet my father's and
uncle's expectations of me? And it would seem from my uncle's
words that Phillip wants me to examine him and he will be
disappointed if I don't do so.  I get up out of my seat and move
over to him.

This is all very new to me and I'm unsure of what to do. But
Phillip is a true slave and he knows what is expected of him. Of
course, I don't know that Phillip has been in this situation
countless times over the years whenever his Master gave
permission to another superior to `finger' him. So in a way,
Phillip takes the initiative and leads me into my inspection of
him. He moves his feet apart, rises up onto the tips of his toes
and he suggestively thrusts this groin forward. This is a blatant
invitation to place my hands upon him and to begin my examination
of him. I do so now and the sensation is electric.

His body is both hard and soft to the touch. My fingers gauge the
hardness of his muscles yet I feel his warm flesh yield softly to
my touch. Phillip is trembling from his emotions and he's not
alone. My own body is shaking with my mixed emotions. All this is
so new to me.

My hands slide down over his chest to his nipples. Now some
deeply ingrained instinct takes over my actions and I find myself
teasing them into needle-point sharpness. I feel the sharp intake
of Phillip's breathe and a soft moan escapes his lips. Obviously,
he is nearing the point of arousal and my eager hands move down
to his cock. I cup and gently squeeze his balls in one hand as
the other stokes the fires of his burgeoning erection. I am
oblivious of my father's and uncle's presence; temporarily they
have no place here. There is only Phillip and I and the only
sounds in the room are of our laboured breathing. Then, suddenly
my rising passion is cut short by my uncle's voice.

"Steady on there, Jon." He laughingly tells me.  "You've got poor
Phillip all worked up. He's in quite a state of arousal."

Uncle Kyle's words act as a circuit breaker and I regain my
composure. I continue with my inspection of Phillip as
dispassionately as I can. But this is not easy. Phillip is so
responsive to my touch.

My hands move down over his belly and I pause long enough to
explore his deeply indented navel with a fingertip. Wisely, my
hands bypass his genitals and move down his long powerful legs. I
examine his feet and toes before standing up. Instinctively, my
next move suggests itself and I hear myself ordering Phillip to
turn around. He does so and presents his back for my inspection.
I'm becoming more confident and I take a firm, rounded buttock in
each hand and squeeze hard. Then releasing them, I gaze at their
deep, dividing cleft and wonder if this is `out of bounds' to me.
As though he is reading my thoughts, Uncle Kyle instructs Phillip
to.

"Bend and spread!"

Obediently, Phillip bends at the waist and reaching behind him he
pries both ass cheeks apart exposing that most secret part of him
to my view. Momentarily, Phillip's willingness to expose himself
so openly shocks me. But then I realise he is a slave and no part
of his body belongs to him. His body belongs to another and as a
slave he can have no secrets from his Master.

Suddenly, Uncle Kyle steps forward and delivers two stinging
slaps to his slave's ass. Phillip gasps from the unexpectedness
of this and as the sound echoes throughout the silent room, my
uncle angrily admonishes him.

"I told you to spread! Now do it! SPREAD THEM! NOW!"

Poor Phillip! I'm not sure that he could part his ass cheeks any
more than he has. But his Master had ordered him to do so and
struggles to oblige his Master's demand. In doing so, he reveals
more of himself to me.

I now see his large, pendulous balls hanging low between his
widely spread thighs and they `jiggle' with just the slightest
movement of his body. His anus is stretched open and the pink
striated flesh of his sphincter is winking an invitation to me. I
want so much to reach forward and touch it and I look to my uncle
for guidance. He simply smiles and nods his head.

The next few minutes are unlike any I have ever had and the
memory of them will stay with me forever. This is my first close
physical contact with a white slave - and I promise myself it
won't be my last by a long shot. I reach in between Phillip's
thighs and fondle and play with his balls and when their novelty
has worn off I finger his hole. At the first touch, he shudders
violently and suggestively thrusts his ass backwards as though he
is seeking to impale himself on my finger.  No words are spoken
and none are needed. His action tells me what Phillip wants and
who am I to disappoint him. I enter him and I explore the warm,
silky smooth interior of his body and delight in the tight
embrace of his sphincter muscles.

But all good things must come to an end.  I withdraw my finger
from his body and with a new found confidence I slap his ass -
not as hard as Uncle Kyle - and tell him to stand and face me.

Momentarily, we look at each other and Phillip smiles at me. He
appears to be genuinely happy. Perhaps what my uncle said earlier
about Phillip anticipating my eighteenth birthday is true. I
would like to think so. Certainly, it is turning into a memorable
day for me and Phillip has made it so.

Uncle Kyle tells me the final part of an inspection is the
examination of the slave's mouth and teeth. I take my cue from
him and order Phillip to open his mouth. Again my uncle steps
forward and punishes his slave. This time, he angrily slaps
Phillip's face and orders him to.

"OPEN WIDE!"

Poor Phillip! His face is reddened by his Master's slap and I see
tears forming in his eyes. I try not to prolong his discomfort
for too long and quickly examine his tongue and teeth all of
which are in perfect condition. But such consideration for a
slave's feelings won't always stay with me. Eventually I will
become as demanding and as harsh as Uncle Kyle in my handling of
my white slaves. They do deserve nothing else than to be treated
with firmness.

Uncle Kyle congratulates me in what he calls my `inspection
techniques' and tells me I have all the attributes of black
Master. My father endorses my uncle's comments and I feel proud
that I have won their approval. Then my uncle turns to Phillip
and instructs him to pay me homage.

Phillip falls to his knees and crawls over to me. He inclines his
head and kisses my feet three times before speaking.

"Happy Birthday, Sir Jon! Many Happy Returns of the Day. Oh Sir!
You don't know how I've longed for this day. I've known you since
you were a small boy and in my heart I've always acknowledged you
as my Superior. But I was never able to show it to you. I had to
wait until Master said I could. Sir Jon, I look forward to
serving you in any manner that my Master commands me to."

Then he leans forward once again and kisses my feet. I'm touched
by his actions and words but strangely I now see them as my due.
I now know the truth about Phillip. It has been revealing and
many questions about him have been answered. But it has also told
me much about myself and revealed previously unknown truths about
my own nature.

I am a black Master.

                                            
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

There is one last ritual that is yet to take place.

Uncle Kyle dismisses Phillip from the room and once more proposes
a toast to my eighteenth birthday. The two men closest to me
drink my health and wish me well in my future life.

Then the door opens and Phillip re-enters bearing an elaborate
birthday cake with eighteen lighted candles. He places it on a
coffee table and moves to kneel at my feet. Once more he wishes
me "Many Happy Returns" and smiles radiantly at me. Uncle Kyle
orders Phillip to his feet and allows him to join with him and my
father as they sing "Happy Birthday" in my honour.

I follow tradition and as I blow out the candles and I make my
secret wish. Of course what else would I wish for on this most
momentous of days? I wish for my very own white-boy slave -SOON!

As I cut my birthday cake, Uncle Kyle tells me that Phillip had
baked and decorated it for me of his own volition and that he'd
not instructed Phillip to do so. He tells me that for Phillip
this is a true labour of love and as a slave who possesses
nothing it is his birthday present to me. He then goes on to tell
me that in doing this Phillip had followed a long tradition and
that all my previous birthday cakes had been made by Phillip as
an expression of his love for me.

I am deeply touched on learning this. I had no idea and I'd never
been told this before today. Shamed, I think of my cruel,
thoughtless treatment of my uncle's servant. But Phillip isn't
Uncle Kyle's servant. He is his slave and I see in my birthday
cake all the true love, loyalty and devotion that only a slave
can give to his Master and his family.

Today has revealed many truths to me. Least of which is Phillip's
inherent goodness and I realise that he is the third man in my
life. However, as he is my uncle's slave, he will expect me to
treat him as such and to never see him as my equal. I mustn't
disappoint him.

As I cut my cake, I look towards Phillip standing silently in the
background with his head bowed and his hands clasped behind his
back. In future I will treat him as a slave but for today, I want
to forget that and include him in my celebrations. I ask Uncle
Kyle's permission to give Phillip a slice of my cake. He
hesitates and I fear he will deny my request. But then he agrees.


"Well why not? After all today is a very special day. But only a
small portion mind you!"

I cut what I consider a small slice of cake for Phillip but my
uncle interjects.

"Jon, that's way too generous for Phillip. Half that amount is
sufficient. He's not used to eating cake and I don't want him
with a stomach upset. And more to the point, I don't want him
putting on weight."

I do as Uncle Kyle wants and halve Phillip's portion of cake but
there only three plates and cake forks and there are four of us.
Do I serve a plate to Phillip or do I send him to fetch another?

Uncle Kyle sees my dilemma and tells me Phillip doesn't need a
plate and that it is quite permissible for him to use his hands
and to eat from them. He laughingly tells me that Phillip is
among `friends' and today `we won't stand on ceremony'.

I hand the slice of cake to a smiling Phillip. As he takes it in
his hands from me I reflect this is the first and last time I'll
ever serve Phillip.

From now on, he must serve me as my Uncle Kyle's slave.


To be continued ................



