Phillip's Story

By Jean-Christophe / Christian Debus / Servus4u

Published on Aug 8, 2012

Gay

Phillip's Story Chapter 6 "Serving Two Masters"

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

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Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): July, 2012 Read my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

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

Writer's Note: This is a fictionalized account of actual, recent events that happened to my slave friend, Phillip - not his real name. Of course, it contains some embellishments to make the story more interesting to the reader but it is essentially as he experienced them.

Serving Two Masters: "A new slave is welcomed into the Family"

Master has just informed me that he is to be visited by his uncle, Sir Hayward, his aunt, Mistress Eujanie, their daughter, sixteen year old Mistress Shilah and their son, fourteen year old, Sir Jermain next weekend.

I am familiar with the family - but not overly so - as my contact with them has only ever been through Master or on those occasions when the extended family has gathered together for a celebration.

The last such gathering was about six months ago when Master's brother, Sir Lachlan formally presented his newly acquired slave, Jem to the family. The family has a long, proud history of white slave ownership - dating back over a hundred years - and it is committed wholeheartedly to the philosophy of Black Rule. Therefore, the family members always enthusiastically welcome a new, white slave into their circle.

I learned from Master, that Sir Lachlan had known Jem for about twelve months prior to his enslavement. In accordance with Sir Lachlan's wish to wait until his son, Sir Jon turned eighteen and could be told about my true status as his uncle's white slave, Jem' presence had been kept in the background and I'd not been told about him.

In August, Sir Jon had moved away to College and I had been privileged to accompany him as he moved into his new dormitory. Of course, my involvement was that of a slave. The task of moving Sir Jon's belongings had fallen on my shoulders.

The morning of Sir Jon's departure for college meant I was up early to drive Master to his brother's house. There was a mixture of emotions; Master and his brother were naturally proud of Sir Jon's acceptance into such a prestigious College and coupled with this was Sir Jon's excitement at embarking on a new phase of his life. But I suspect there was some sadness on Sir Lachlan's part as he prepared to say farewell to his much loved son. And I knew Master would be similarly affected. Most probably there was also a feeling of apprehension on the part of all three of my Superiors.

In all probability, my own emotions matched those of my Master. I'd know Sir Jon from his earliest years and I'd watched him play as small boy and it had always been a joy for me to serve him. I'd seen him progress through his teenage years and I'd longed for the time when he came of age and could be told that I am a slave. For years, I'd thought of the moment when I would gladly kneel naked at his feet and pay him the homage due to him as my Black Superior. That happy event happened on the occasion of Sir Jon's eighteenth birthday when my Master told his nephew of my true role and I had knelt before him as the naked slave that I am. I have to say that day was a truly emotional for me and I number it among the happiest events of my life.

Of course, things changed between Sir Jon and me after that. I was no longer his uncle's kindly servant. I was his uncle's white slave and owned property and Sir Jon now treated me as such. Whenever, he visited Master's home or we visited Sir Lachlan, I fell to my knees and kissed his feet in submission. And it felt so right for me to do so.

Even though I am a slave, I did feel great emotion the day Sir Jon left for college. However, as a slave I had to keep my emotions hidden within me. I felt the same pride, the excitement, the sadness and the apprehension that my three Superiors felt. But I couldn't openly show them; it would be unseemly for me to do. I serve the family but I'm not a family member and even though I love my Master with every fibre of my being I am not his equal. I am his owned property and I know that Master loves me dearly but I can only ever be his slave!

And truthfully, I aspire for nothing more!

The Superiors wanted to make an early start and so Master and I arrived early. While the three Superiors talked over coffee and bagels, I loaded Sir Jon's personal effects into the cars and waited until it was time to leave.

Upon arrival at Sir Jon's College residence I again waited for instructions. When Sir Jon found out which dorm had been allocated to him, I was put to work carrying his gear from the cars and up the stairs to his room. This proved to be an onerous task and I made many trips between the cars and Sir Jon's room.

On one such trip, I was asked by a white man.

"Why are you carrying a Black man's luggage?"

My reply was simple but only half true.

"I am his servant!"

How I'd have liked to tell him the truth; that I am a white slave who willingly serves the Black Race.

At the time Master was working out of state and had returned home so that he was present when Sir Jon left for college. Master had arranged for us to spend a few days on the coast and after leaving Sir Jon and his father at the college, Master had me drive to our resort.

For those few days, I was able to spend all my time with Master and to serve him devotedly. I was in seventh heaven and I enjoyed these few days. But they did highlight the fact that we now lived apart; albeit temporarily. How I missed my Master when he had to return to work. His leaving me on my own exacerbated my sadness and loneliness and I was left to impatiently anticipate his eventual return and to count the long days until then.

Just a few weeks later, Master was home for a weekend visit and Sir Lachlan presented his new slave to Master for his inspection. Until then I knew nothing of Jem's existence and it came as a complete surprise to me. I wasn't aware that Sir Lachlan had intended to acquire a slave so quickly after Sir Jon's departure for college.

But Jem's enslavement to Sir Lachlan did excite me. Now, perhaps I would have the companionship of a fellow slave who was to serve my Master's brother. Inevitably, we would be in close, regular contact and this pleased me. I'd been a slave for eleven years and mostly my contact with other slaves occurred when Master entertained or he visited other Superiors.

A slave's life is one of service to his Master and so he shouldn't be concerned with his own needs. But even a slave - despite the fact that he lives only to serves his Master with total dedication - can at times feel some loneliness.

And the thought that I would now have a slave brother in Jem was a welcome new event in my life.

Because Jem was a new slave and new to the lifestyle, he had much to learn and our Masters considered that I could teach him the rudimentary rules of slave behaviour and some other necessary protocols. Master - still controlling me from out of state - ordered me to present myself to Sir Lachlan and to instruct Jem in the basics of good housekeeping and cooking.

I was impressed with Jem at our first meeting. He presented well as a new slave and after a few conversations I considered that he was in every sense a true slave who'd adapt readily to serving the Black Race and that he would serve his new Master with loyalty and devotion. It seemed to me that Sir Lachlan had acquired an excellent slave to serve him.

However, my high regard for Jem extended beyond that. His physical appearance also impressed itself upon me. Jem is aged in his mid-thirties and stands at 5 feet 10 inches with a swimmer's build and he has a 32 inch waist. He is very good looking with a pleasing face and has brown hair and hazel eyes. Before becoming a slave he had a light hair covering on his chest and a treasure trail that connected this with his pubes. Now of course his body is without hair and is totally smooth which is the natural condition of the white slave. Jem lost his free man's right to retain his body hair along with his freedom.

The removal of his pubes, emphasises his thick, cut cock which, at rest, is approximately four inches long and when aroused it is a noteworthy seven to eight inches. His balls hang low between his thighs and he has a nice ass which is both firm and curvaceous. And I have overheard his Master tell mine that Jem's asshole is "tight".

Jem speaks with a delightfully soft Southern drawl that contrasts with my own neutral New England one. In some ways his accent puts him at a disadvantage. It indicates his Southern roots and background and for most Black Masters that singles him out for special attention.

In the eyes of our Black Superiors, all whites are culpable; all are guilty of crimes against the Black Race. But Southerners - given their history in the subjugation and exploitation of Blacks - are especially guilty and must perform a higher penance to atone for the sins of their ancestors.

A white slave from the South is highly prized by a Black Superior and is "marked" for special treatment. Such slaves are worked harder and treated more harshly by their Masters simply because of an accident of birth. Southern-born, white slaves have a higher price to pay in white reparation to the Black Race.

Jem and I have been together on numerous occasions since his enslavement. Some months back Master loaned me to Sir Lachlan to work with Jem in restoring the wooden flooring of his home. This was done over several weekends and although we were forbidden to talk other than about our work, I enjoyed our close proximity with one another. I have always enjoyed working with other slaves but somehow Jem was "special". I suppose the knowledge that he is slave to my Master's brother and that we belong to the same family connects us.

Most of our work was done on our hands and knees and our asses made tempting targets for Sir Lachlan's crop. Certainly during the course of our work we felt the sharp sting of his displeasure many times.

In the interim, Jem was being trained by his Master and I suspect he was subjected to harsh discipline. But what came through to me from our conversations was how badly Jem wanted to be a slave and his determination to succeed.

At Easter, Sir Jon returned home for the holiday break and now Jem had two Masters to serve and two Masters to please and to satisfy.

And of course, I was also subject to Sir Jon's attention and he seemed to have a particular need to control me. He would verbally abuse me and on many occasions he'd slap my face. He also said he'd like to whip me to make up for all those occasions when he couldn't.

Sir Jon ruled Jem and I with a firm hand and this was watched by both my Master and Sir Lachlan. Their pride in Sir Jon's growing confidence at controlling two white slaves was very evident. Many times they laughed at Sir Jon's treatment of us.

Jem and I spent our first Easter together and to mark the occasion - and to put us into a festive mood - Sir Jon decorated our testicles as Easter eggs. He painted my balls red and blue and Jem's were painted green and yellow. While he did so, our two Masters laughed heartily at our humiliation and talked enthusiastically about Sir Jon's progression into the role of a hard, Black Master. It was very clear from their comments that both father and uncle were proud of Sir Jon.

As a form of entertainment for Sir Lachlan and Sir Jon, Master had Jem and I play one of his favourite games - Hunt the Easter Eggs. I have played this game several times before - always at Easter and I know the rules - but this is the first time I'd played it with Jem.

The rules of the game are quite simple. Each Master has a number of Easter Eggs all coloured the same and these are scattered throughout the room. The Master's slave is required to fall to his hands and knees and to crawl around the room and to search for his Master's eggs. When the slave retrieves his Master's egg he carries it back in his mouth and places it at his Master's feet then returns to the hunt. There is a time limit set and the slave who retrieves the maximum number of eggs within that time and returns them successfully to his Master's feet is the winner.

Jem and I were required to crawl on all fours and to keep our legs apart as we did so. This allowed our cocks and multi-coloured "Easter eggs" to swing freely between our legs and opened up our assholes to the Superiors' scrutiny. I'm sure we made a comical sight as we scuttled around the room searching for our Masters' eggs, picking them up in our mouths and then crawling back to place them doglike at our their feet.

Certainly, the Superiors found it amusing as there was much laughter and shouting at the two of us. But we took the game very seriously. First of all, neither of us wanted to shame our Master by losing the game. To do so would cause our Master to lose face and that was unforgiveable. Always, in these games, the winning slave is rewarded and the loosing slaves punished.

Eventually, I lost the game and Jem was declared the winner!

Jem's prize was to be my punishment and my ass was given to him to penetrate.

When Jem mounted me and as his cock entered into my ass, I felt slave humiliation. And with each lunge of his hips and as he plunged deeper into me that humiliation grew. Because I was on the "receiving end" it was easy for me to overlook Jem's own feelings. Perhaps, he felt similar shame to my own? Which one of us was the winner or the loser didn't really matter; we'd been ordered to fuck by our Superiors for their entertainment. That choice was theirs' to make and Jem had no recourse other than to obey our Masters commands.

Obviously, our very public coupling was a source of great pleasure and amusement to our three Masters. Their ribald comments and laughter encouraged us. We were expected to put on a "good show" and we did our best to make the spectacle entertaining for them.

Jem and I now came into more regular contact as our Masters interacted. As the weather warmed, Master organised a Saturday of intense activity in making the grounds of his house ready for spring and summer.

Master had organised for Sir Lachlan and another Superior to be present and to bring their slaves, Jem and Tim with them to work alongside of me.

Master had told me beforehand that I was to rise at 5.30 AM on the Saturday and to work outdoors preparing the tools and implements ready for the arrival of the other two slaves. The evening before, Master took me to a garden center where he bought all the work supplies required for the next day. Then, we continued shopping at a grocery store buying in the day's food for himself, his Superior friends and the slaves. He chose gourmet foods and wines for the Superiors and more basic "slave chow" for us.

Next morning, I woke promptly at 5.30AM and crawled quietly into the bathroom for a shave and a quick shower. I took great care not to wake Master or to disturb him as he was sleeping soundly and cosily in his warm bed.

I went down to the kitchen and prepared a quick breakfast of grapefruit juice, toast and coffee for myself and then went outdoors to prepare for the day. It was just after 6.00AM and the morning was cool but the day promised to be warm and I worked comfortably naked until it was time to take Master his early morning cup of strong, black coffee without sugar which he drank as I prepared his breakfast.

Shortly after 8.00 AM, Sir Lachlan and the other Superior arrived with their slaves, Jem and Tim. As expected, I fell to my knees and crawled to my Master's guests and paid homage to them. Jem and Tim shucked off their clothing and naked, both slaves paid similar homage to my Master.

I especially welcomed this opportunity to work with Tim. He is in a sense a brother slave to me; I first met him as a slave when I was still a free man. His Master had allowed me to talk freely with him about becoming a white slave to a Black Master. I valued his opinions then and I value his friendship now, Our Masters are friends and through their friendship and social interaction, Tim and I enjoy a special closeness as well. I like to think there is this fellowship among white slaves and that we are bound together in our common servitude to our Black Masters. Many times Tim and I have served our Masters together and of course, I was pleased to welcome Jem into our circle as a new slave brother.

After giving us our instructions, Master returned to the house and left us to work on our own. An hour later Master and the other two Superiors came to check on our progress and to deliver a few cuts of the cane to our asses. Master said they were going to a golf driving range for a few hours practice and he left us with list of what chores he expected to be finished when they returned.

All three of us worked hard to meet Master's demands and I took great pleasure from working alongside my two fellow slaves. The day was warm and we were perspiring with the honest sweat of our labours and from time to time we'd pause for a drink of water or to apply sunscreen to our naked bodies.

Fortunately, I had already acquired a rich tan from working outdoors but I did take precautions to stop myself from burning under the sun's intensity and liberally applied the lotion to my body. My body isn't my own; it belongs to my Master and it is incumbent on me to protect his property.

All three of us worked non-stop. We didn't even break to pee. If the need arose, then we simply pissed as we worked.

It felt great to be working as a naked field-slave alongside of Jem and Tim. If our Masters had been present, I'm sure we'd have made a pleasing picture for them. For me personally, I loved the sight of my fellow slaves working with their cocks and balls swinging freely between their widely splayed legs and with their asses raised high and their holes stretched open to my view.

We worked hard all morning to complete the tasks that Master had given us and when he returned, he inspected our work and seemed pleased with our efforts. Before moving into the house with his guests to watch a baseball game, Master gave us another list of chores he expected us to complete before the end of the day.

We worked hard all afternoon and by 6.30 PM we'd finished Master's list. He and the other Superiors inspected our labours and delivered a few more cuts of their canes to our "lazy white asses" before Master dismissed us and ordered us to the pool house.

There we were allowed to shower under the Superiors' watch. We were made to shower together and the Superiors joked about our naked bodies. They laughed at our white slave cocks and made ribald comments about our asses and what types of fucks we were. They especially enjoyed the sight of us washing and drying one another.

After this we returned to the house where we served dinner to the three Superiors. Master had gone to a lot of effort to feed his guests with a three course meal. They began with shrimp cocktails followed by a main "surf and turf" course of prime steak and lobster tails. They finished with pastries and wines especially chosen by Master.

Once our Superiors had finished dining, they allowed their slaves to eat. For our meal Master had chosen a more basic one of hamburgers and fries served in bowls on the floor.

For the rest of the evening our three Masters played games with us. These included edging.

The next day - Sunday - Jem and I spent the day cleaning windows.

I have to say I enjoyed the weekend immensely. It was most satisfying. We'd met my Master's requirements and pleased him and as always I enjoyed the physical nature of a slave's work. I really do enjoy being a field-slave.

However, there was an unfortunate consequence of the weekend that saw both Jem and I severely punished by out Masters.

It was most unfortunate and can be attributed to Jem's lack of experience. But as a longer serving and more experienced slave it was a serious oversight on my part and I accept my guilt.

Jem's guilt stems from his lack of awareness whereas mine was for not taking his new slave inexperience into account and watching out for his welfare. I was guilty of neglecting the property of my Master's brother.

Throughout our work day, we stopped to apply sunscreen to our bodies and whilst Tim and I were old hands at this, Jem wasn't. It's true that he applied the sunscreen to his body but he neglected his cock and balls. With hindsight, I should have foreseen this and made sure that Jem was protected.

But a slave can't use lack of hindsight as a excuse for his guilt. He must be alert at all times to protect his Master's property and interests. And so I had no excuse to offer to my Master for my lack of diligence.

Next day, Jem was in great distress. His sunburn caused him much pain and discomfort. After the weekend, we spoke and he told that his cock was very sore and it hurt to piss. I can only imagine at how he felt. I could read his distress and his pain through his words and he told me that his Master was taking him to the Vet after work that day. Mention of the Vet brought back memories of my own recent visit to him for my annual check-up. I didn't envy Jem.

Jem told me that his Master was very angry with him for allowing himself to be damaged and that he was to be caned for his carelessness. Jem told me of his fear of being punished but in fairness to his Master his punishment was warranted. Jem did need to learn the lesson that he must always be alert to protect his Master's property. My own Master told me that we were to witness Jem's caning the following weekend. He then went on to tell me that he was displeased with me and angry that I'd not taking proper care of another Superior' property. He told me that I was to be caned along with Jem.

Jem and I spoke several times during the week. The threat of our punishment hung over us like a sinister, dark pall. We were apprehensive and fearful of our Masters' justifiable anger. I hate the cane and yet I knew my Master was correct and that my punishment was well- deserved.

The following Saturday night, Jem and I were caned. Jem received seven strokes but mine was lighter. I received just five. But while the numbers weren't excessive, both our Masters expressed their anger through their use of the cane. Our canings were severe and among the worst that I had experienced.

Jem was the first to be punished. He was ordered up onto a coffee table which also serves as a caning bench and to assume an all fours position on his hands and knees. With his ass thus positioned for the cane, his Master gave him seven strokes with all the force he could muster.

Then it was my turn to mount the table and present my ass to my Master for my own punishment. The severity of my Master's caning equalled that given to Jem by his Master.

Immediately after our canings, we knelt at our Masters' feet and thanked them for our chastisements and begged for their forgiveness.

It would appear that our Masters have a reciprocal approach to the use of their slaves. Sometimes I am taken by my Master to Sir Lachlan's home to work with Jem in such menial chores as tidying up the yard. Then there are those times when Sir Lachlan brings Jem over to Master's to work with me. Recently, Jem and I worked together over a two day weekend.

On the Saturday, we worked together to prepare Master's swimming-pool for use and on the Sunday we cleaned and prepared the barbeque area ready for his summer entertainments of other Superiors. And as we worked our Masters relaxed and kept a watchful eye on us to see that we performed our work to Master's strict requirements.

Jem and I speak regularly and mostly our conversations deal with our common slavery. Jem has wholeheartedly embraced his slavery and he is committed to making himself into a good slave for his Master. I admire his enthusiasm and in some ways this helps me too. I like to think that I am both mentor and slave brother to Jem as I answer his questions, speak to his fears and listen to concerns. I hope that my own long years of service to his Master's brother do serve as an inspiration to him in his own journey into his white slavery.

I know that Sir Lachlan controls Jem with a firm hand and that Jem appreciates his Master's strict training of him. I also know that Jem is apprehensive of the long summer vacation when Sir Jon will be home from college and he has to serve two Masters.

Recently, Jem heard that, Sir Jon will spend a month of his vacation at our Masters' parents' out of state farm where he is to learn more about the family's heritage of Black Rule and its proud, century long ownership of white slaves. And Jem is most worried that Sir Jon will be shown stricter methods for the controlling and handling of those slaves. And later, his Master told him that he will take Jem to the farm for a week of training during Sir Jon's month long stay. Naturally, Jem feels some anxiety at the prospect of this visit.

Jem's concerns are justified for I know that my Master's parents, Sir Terrell and Mistress Laqueta are indeed dedicated Black owners and possess two white slaves - one male and one female - who they rigorously ruled with strict discipline. I have been taken by Master on visits to his parents and I too have been subjected to their control.

Jem's questions to me reveal his apprehension of our Masters' parents. I am always forthright in my answers and never try to minimise the fact that they are stern taskmasters. To tell him otherwise would be to undervalue their true status as Black Superiors and to mislead Jem who must adapt his servitude to their standards.

He is now a slave within their extended family and he has to understand the high expectations this places upon him. His Master's proud heritage of white slave ownership demands that Jem conform to the family's high standards and live by the stringent rules that our Superiors have put into place and by which they govern our lives as their slaves. I always tell Jem that he is privileged to have been chosen to serve as a white slave to a Black Master from such an illustrious background. I believe he does understand how fortunate he is and shares in my pride that we have been chosen to serve our two Masters.

Jem is under no illusions as to how he'll be treated by his Master's parents and although he is fearful, he told me that he will accept any training from Sir Terrell and he'll regard this interest in him as a great honor. I was pleased to hear Jem say this for it confirms my opinion that he will make a splendid slave for Sir Lachlan.

Jem's nervousness is evident in the questions he asks me about my visits to the farm. Once again, I speak forthrightly and give him truthful answers to his questions. To do otherwise would be unfair to him and disrespectful to my Superiors. I'm not sure that I am telling him what he wants to here but I won't give him the wrong impression of what awaits him during his stay with his Master's parents. He needs to know and for me to forewarn him is to prepare him.

Whenever I speak with Jem, I am reminded of my own very first visit to Master's parents shortly after my own enslavement and memories of that occasion come flooding back to me.

My first visit to my Master's parents took place shortly after my enslavement. At the time I was aware of my new responsibilities as a slave but unpractised in my duties. Prior to becoming a slave, Master and I had been together in a vanilla relationship where I was happy for him to assume the leadership role and I the lesser one. I enjoyed leaving responsibility for all decisions to my more dominant partner; he chose which shows we attended and at which restaurants we dined as well as making all the major decisions affecting our household.

All the time, I was being groomed to become a slave. It was my future Master's earnest desire that one day I would bow down before him and beg to serve him as his slave. Gradually he exposed me to the intellectual concepts of Black Superiority and the principles of Black Rule. With infinite patience, he helped me to see that these are the rightful and natural world order and that Blacks are meant to rule and whites to serve.

Despite Master's hope that one day I would serve him as his slave, he didn't force me into slavery. Quite the contrary, he went to great lengths to show me what white slavery to the Black Race entailed. He exposed me to other Black Superiors and their white slaves and I was free to talk and question those slaves about all aspects of their servitude. Eventually, I was under no illusions as to what it meant to be a white slave to a Black Master but I yearned for it with every fibre of my being. I wanted desperately to be a slave. I'd been born with a slave's nature and temperament and suddenly the chance to fulfil my destiny presented itself.

The final choice was mine and not Master's and it had taken me twelve months before that memorable night in March when I approached my partner and begged him to enslave me and to become my Master.

Of course, my life changed overnight. The things that were acceptable the day before in our previous "free" relationship were no longer applicable and I had to start immediately to change my attitudes and adapt my practices to those of a slave.

Master's expectations for me also underwent a drastic change. He now expected much more from me in the way his household was managed. The standards I'd used as free man fell short of those demanded of me as a slave and it was necessary for me to learn new skills that would serve my Master's best interests.

My cooking skills were obviously not those that Master expected and he eventually enrolled me in cookery classes for two years where I learned to become the chef that I am. Similarly, Master enrolled me in another course where I learned the basics of home maintenance.

However, the standards of my housekeeping also feel short. What was good enough previously was no longer acceptable to Master after I became his slave. Master had set newer, very high standards and I fell well short of them.

Master decided I needed training in many areas including housekeeping, cooking, serving of meals, laundry and ironing. And he decided that his parents should help in my training. He arranged for us to spend two weeks at his parents' farm where I'd be schooled by Mistress Laqueta in the finer points of housekeeping and trained to work outdoors under the direction of his father, Sir Terrell.

The prospect of this visit was unsettling. But this was my new Master's decision and I accepted that he knew what was best for me. Obviously in his wisdom - and something I have discovered over the years is that Black owners always know what is best for their white slaves - he knew I could only benefit from the visit. Nevertheless, I was very nervous at the prospect of meeting Master's parents.

It is an eight hours drive from Master's home to his parents' and I acted in my role as slave chauffeur for my Master. Master relaxed and enjoyed the drive; I, on the other hand was extremely nervous and anxiously thinking about our arrival. I wondered how Master's parents would receive me and how I must act in their presence. I hoped that Master would help and guide me through this. I also knew that Sir Terrell and Mistress Laqueta owned two white slaves - one male and one female - and I took comfort in knowing that I wouldn't be the only slave in their home.

When we arrived after our long drive, Master's parents were waiting outdoors to greet him. As I walked to the cars opposite side to open the door for Master, his parents didn't acknowledge my presence. It was as though I didn't exist.

Master's parents warmly welcomed their son but continued to ignore me. Standing in the background was a naked, white, male slave who Master also ignored. After his parents had embraced Master, the slave hurried forward and knelt at Master's feet in homage. As he kissed Master's feet and welcomed him home, Master acted as though he wasn't there.

This is in keeping with most Black Superiors who ignore a white slave's welcome. It is expected that we white slaves will always pay homage at the feet of our Superiors but we never expect to be acknowledged by them. However, should we fail to kneel and kiss a Black Superior's feet, then that is adversely noted and we are severely punished.

I looked down on the kneeling slave with his ass raised in greeting to my Master. His legs were held apart and his balls swung between his legs while his hole was exposed to the view of all. The slave had an all over tan and I wondered if he was an outdoor field-slave. Later I am to learn that he does work in his Master's field and I was required to work alongside of him.

As a new slave, I was as yet not fully used to being displayed like that and I felt the slave's humiliation. But I knew that very shortly, I would share in that humiliation as I knelt before Master's parents and paid them homage.

Master and his parents moved indoors and I opened the trunk so that the slave and I could silently carry Master's luggage into the house and place it in his bedroom. It felt strange to be in the house where Master had grown up and to realize that white slavery has been practised here for many years. I realized that Master had been served by white slaves from birth and this now continues with me.

And I was now a part of that long, proud tradition!

Master came to collect me and to lead me into the living room where his parents were waiting. Here, for the first time, I saw their female slave as she served our Superiors with refreshments. Master presented me to his parents as his newly acquired slave, Phillip and ordered me to.

"Shuck down, boy!"

My initial shyness caused me to hesitate and my hesitancy angered Master who stepped forward and slapped my face. As his hand stung my cheek I felt shame that I had embarrassed my Master.

"I gave you an order. I told you to shuck down. Now do it!"

And to emphasise this last command, he slapped me again.

Self-consciously, I was aware that both Sir Terrell and Mistress Laqueta were watching me most intently. Perhaps, they were surprised at my slowness in responding to my Master's order to shed my clothes. Certainly, Master was angry with me and justifiably so. I had disgraced him in front of his parents and caused him to lose face in their eyes. But the look in their eyes showed their approval of and their pride in their son's handling of me.

Master had forbidden me to wear underwear or socks and the only items of clothing he'd allowed me to bring were the ones I was wearing. Of course, I will be kept slave naked for the next two weeks and I have no need of any other clothing. I removed my tee shirt and then my sandals and just stood in my shorts. Fearful of angering Master any further, I quickly stepped out of my shorts and stood stark naked before Master's parents and their female slave.

I quickly responded to Master's order to.

"Stand at display!"

I stood facing Sir Terrell and Mistress Laqueta with my body held erect, my feet apart and my hands held behind my head. And I was very aware of my nakedness. However, my embarrassment wasn't caused by my exposure to Master's parents. After all, what could be more natural to them than to have me standing naked before them as their son's white slave? My embarrassment had more to do with the naked, female slave's presence in the room. Her nakedness complemented my own but it also highlighted what we truly were - two, abject, inferior, white slaves in the presence of our powerful, Black owners.

Because my sexual orientation had always been gay, I had minimal exposure to females. And the presence of this female slave was one of the few occasions when I had seen one naked. However, over the coming years, Master will, from time to time, expose me to other female slaves and they'll not have the effect upon me as that slave did. With wider exposure, I will come to see them as "just slaves" like me. And there will be times when I will be forced to couple with female slaves as a source of entertainment for my Black Superiors.

But on this occasion, the females slave's presence did embarrass me and added to my sense of shame.

Master's parents sat and visually appraised me; all the time commenting on me and offering advice to him on how he should control me. They commented on my body shape, my general level of fitness and my pleasant good looks. Sir Terrell thought my cock was passable given that it was white slave cock and he noted - approvingly - that I was cut. My ass also seemed to meet with his approval.

Throughout their discussion about me, I felt my new slave status most acutely. These Black Superiors evidently saw me as nothing more than a slave animal under inspection and they had no regard for my feelings. Since then, I have been in countless situations where Black Superiors have both visually inspected and talked about me or Master has allowed a "hands- on" appraisal of my body. On all occasions, my sensibilities were ignored and what I felt was of no consequence to them.

Master invited his parents to inspect me and Sir Terrell was the first to do so. I stood perfectly still as Sir Terrell explored my body. With the confident expertise of a lifelong slave-owner his hands tested the soundness of my body and the strength of my muscles. He weighed my balls and stretched my cock. He turned me with my back to him as he inspected my rear. His hands cupped my ass-cheeks and a finger slipped into my ass-crack searching for my hole. When found, his finger gauged my hole for its tightness and its health. I was made to lift my feet while Sir inspected their soles and he ordered me to raise my arms above my head so that he could examine my arm pits. He returned to my cock and despite my shame he aroused me to a rampant erection. He stroked my cock but stopped short of masturbating me. He looked at my ears, my eyes and my nose before checking out the soundness of my teeth and the health of my gums and tongue. Satisfied he told Master.

"He's a fine property!"

Then it was Mistress's turn to inspect me and her inspection was a repeat of the one that Master's father's had subjected me to. She too approved of me and agreed that I was a 'fine property'.

Master ordered me to pay my respects to his parents. I fell to my hands and knees and crawled to them. I leant forward and kissed their feet and paid the homage due to them as their son's new, white slave.

As Master and his parents relaxed over refreshments - served to them by the two slaves - the parents talked about family and also discussed me; theytalked about how I could be improved and made more amenable to Master's needs. Sir Terrell advised Master to take me in hand and to rule me with a rod of iron.

I listened intently to what they said and I knew that the next two weeks would to be very hard on me as I was rigorously trained in my new slave duties. But the overall impression I gained from their comments was that they were proud of their son's ownership of me and saw this as tangible evidence of his commitment to Black Rule.

And the next two weeks did prove to be extremely onerous. I slept in Master's room on the floor alongside of his bed and my days began early and finished late. There were no rest periods and no free days. Each day was one of unremitting hard labour. At times I worked with the female slave - under Mistress's direction - and I was taught the more mundane aspects of a slave's duties like scrubbing and polishing of floors, laundering and ironing of clothes and cooking and serving meals.

Many times my efforts fell short of Mistress's exacting requirements and I felt the sharp sting of her slave crop on my ass and shoulders. I lost count of how many times I stood silent, red-faced and embarrassed as she harangued me for my poor performance. I don't know how many times I was forced to repeat my chores until Mistress was satisfied and gave her grudging approval for my efforts.

Mistress criticised and punished me often and not once did I receive a word of praise from her. There were times when she would inspect my work and slap me for my shoddiness. I can't recall one occasion when she complimented me on a job well done. Rather than praise, I learned to accept her criticism and disapproval as my natural lot.

Mistress was determined to send me away from the farm well-schooled in the duties of a slave and one worthy to serve her son. And I did learn. I was a willing pupil and wanted to please my Master and make him proud of me. That after all is a slave's highest calling - to serve his Master diligently and to give him pride of ownership in his slave.

And I know that Mistress will be just as fastidious and as diligent in training Jem to serve her other son, Sir Lachlan.

At other times I worked outdoors with the male slave under Sir Terrell's direction - and his strap. It's true to say that Sir Terrell intimidated me and I lived in fear of earning his disapproval.

I was unused to hard physical labor and I struggled to keep up with my fitter and more experienced fellow slave. Our duties were varied and were forcibly spelled out to us by Sir Terrell. Sometimes, we worked on fence repairs, the servicing of windmills and the cleaning of water-troughs, painting and maintenance of the farm's buildings and the hand-feeding of fodder to Sir's animals. But always the work was physical, hot, dusty and very hard. I soon learned there are no easy chores for a slave on Sir Terrell's farm.

Each day began early with the two of us milking the cows and finished late - again with the milking of the cows. The cattle were high maintenance and the barn where they were kept overnight needed to be "mucked out" regularly. This is a chore I truly detested. I hated the smell of cow dung that permeated the air as I worked ankle deep in cow shit clearing out the old, soiled straw from the stalls and replacing it with fresh straw. As I worked at this, I thought how fortunate the cows were to have slaves to look after them. It was as though we served not only Sir Terrell but his farm animals as well. And this essentially is what we did!

The term mucking out was very appropriate; by the time we'd finished this particularly nasty chore, our naked bodies were besmirched with cow shit and we stank to high heaven. Once we'd finished, Sir Terrell and Master would lead us to a concrete slab, stand us upon it and wash us down under a high pressure, cold water hose. As we scrubbed one another's bodies our Masters would laugh and jeer at our antics.

No time was wasted in putting us back to work. Our bodies were hardly dry and the hose water would still be dripping from our cocks when Sir Terrell would assign new duties to us. I discovered there are no rest periods given to a slave. A slave's labour is too important to be wasted by his inactivity. On Sir Terrell's farm, there are no idle moments given to a slave to squander.

I found Sir Terrell to be a hard taskmaster and he never held back in the use of the strap he carried with him at all times. I'd experienced the cane under Master's hand but I have to say the strap, when wielded by his father, was infinitely worse. By the end of the two weeks, I understood that my Master was more lenient with me than his father and I appreciated that I was owned by a good master.

I quickly gained the impression that Sir Terrell prized his four legged animals more highly than he did white slaves. Certainly, the livestock were well looked after and in prime condition and they were a testament to his good farm husbandry. He obviously had a close affinity with his livestock which apparently didn't extend to his slave. His attitude to his livestock was compassionate but he treated any slave under his control with impatient indifference.

I never saw him lose patience with the animals but I did witness his harsh treatment of his male slave. The slave felt both the sharp end of his Master's tongue and the painful sting of his strap and similar treatment was extended to me as I worked at the slave's side in the fields.

Both the slave and I were fearful of Sir Terrell and whenever we worked without his supervision we conscientiously applied ourselves to the tasks he'd given us as though he was present. Neither of us needed to be spurred to greater effort or speed for we knew that Sir would judge our work output next time he came to check on us. And should we fall short of his demanding expectations, we knew that he'd punish us. Our fear of his anger was that great.

Nevertheless, whenever we spied Sir Terrell and my Master approaching our workplace, we instinctively increased the pace of our labor in the hope of pleasing Sir and avoiding his strap.

Because I was new to slavery, Sir Terrell considered that I needed a firm hand and considered that a whipping would be beneficial to my training. At first, I sensed Master's reluctance to have me whipped but eventually he did allow it.

The prospect of the whip filled me with fear and still does. Master seldom uses the whip on me and reserves it for those special punishments when my offences are so serious that any other punishment would be considered insufficient.

The day of my first whipping is still vividly etched into my mind. I still recall the trepidation I felt as I was taken to the barn for my whipping. I remember the trembling limbs and the sickening fear that lay like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach as I walked behind my Superiors. As we entered the barn, the realization that my whipping was imminent made me cry and I pleaded with Master to spare me.

As my arms were stretched above my head, I begged Master to spare me. Of course, my pleas went unheard and I have long since learned that once a Black Superior sentences a white slave to punishment there is no chance of a reprieve. For a Black Superior to grant leniency to a white slave would be to lose face before his peers. Nevertheless, I begged and pleaded with Master and his father to be spared.

As Sir Terrell's whip fell onto my expose back and as the lash seared its terrible pain into my naked flesh, I continued to plead - vainly and uselessly.

After my whipping, I kissed Sir's whip and through my tears I thanked him for his lesson.

I have been whipped several times since and I recall one such whipping which took place in the basement of Master's home. Master's brother, Sir Lachlan was present and as I counted out the number of strokes he encouraged my Master to lay on even harder with the lash.

This occurred long before Sir Jon learned of my true slave status and so he wasn't present. Recently, Sir Jon said he'd like to whip me for all those occasions when he couldn't. I know Sir Jon has a poor opinion of me and I don't doubt for one minute the earnestness of his wish. Perhaps one day, his wish will prevail and Master will allow his nephew to whip me.

I now live under the threat of Sir Jon's whip!

As I talk with Jem about my first visit to our Masters' Parents' farm, I wonder if his impending visit will be a repeat of mine. I see no reason to suppose that it won't and I'm sure Jem will be treated in exactly the same manner as me. Nothing in the intervening years has happened to suggest that Sir Terrell and Mistress Laqueta have moderated their views on how a white slave should be trained and treated.

And in a way, I have to agree with their methods. Although my two weeks visit was difficult and uncompromisingly hard, I left their farm a far better slave than when I'd arrived. Despite Mistress's cane and crop and despite Sir's strap and whip, Master's parents helped to shape me into today's slave. I'd gone to their home as an untested slave and I left as a slave with the knowledge and skills to better serve their son as his loyal and committed white slave. I owe them much!

As I reflect on that visit, I recall - with gratitude- the many lessons I'd learned there. From Mistress I learned how Black Superiors expect their households to operate and how their white slaves must perform.

From Sir Terrell, I learned that a white slave must be multifaceted and capable of performing any task given to him by his Black Master. My unquestioning obedience to a Superior's command and the total commitment to hard work were learned from working side by side with Sir's slave in the fields and they have added immeasurably to my service to my own beloved Master.

And I hope these are the lessons that Jem will learn when his Master takes him to his parents' farm. I have no doubt that Jem will prove as good a student as I did during my visit and like me he will return home a better slave for the experience.

My sincere wish for Jem is that he returns from his farm visit better equipped to serve his two Masters, Sir Lachlan and Sir Jon.

What greater wish can any white slave hold for a brother slave other than to have him find fulfilment and happiness in his total servitude to the Black Race?

But as Master has just informed me, I must now prepare for the visit from his uncle and his family. No doubt, Master will have much for me to attend to before their arrival at the weekend.

To be continued .......

You can access the Jean-Christophe stories by joining the archive at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

Next: Chapter 7


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