Date: Sun, 27 Nov 2011 04:38:53 -0800 (PST)
From: Christian Debus <servus4u@ymail.com>
Subject: "Phillip's Story" Part 3

PHILLIP'S STORY
PART 3:
"Family Secrets"

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

Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris):
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

Acknowledgement: I wrote this story but I can't claim full credit for
it. It is a work of fiction but the ideas for it were given to me in
discussions about slavery with a good friend - a white slave with a Black
Master. We collaborated on this story - he gave me the ideas and I supplied
the words.

Part 3: "Family Secrets"

Both my father and my uncle Kyle bear a strong commitment to the concept of
Black Rule.  Indeed, when the two of them are together, it is the principal
topic of conversation and they never tire of stating the true destiny of
the 'inferior white race' is to serve the vastly superior black race as
their slaves. And their acceptance of it has all the conviction and fervour
of a religious belief.  Inevitably, through a process of osmosis, I have
come to believe and accept it too.

But until today, I had only ever viewed it as an intellectual concept and
an academic argument without substance. In their wisdom, they'd considered
me 'too young' to grasp all the implications of Black Rule and they have
carefully shielded me from its truth. To date, I have led a sanitised life
of theoretical discussion without ever seeing its practical implications.

But all that changed today. It is my eighteenth birthday and they have
finally exposed me to the real meaning of Black Rule and it has manifested
itself in the person of my Uncle Kyle's 'white companion', Phillip.

Today, on my eighteenth birthday, I have learned that my Uncle Kyle lives
his life very much as a black Master with Phillip as his white slave.

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

Phillip has lived with my uncle for as long as I can remember and some
years back - despite my father's efforts to keep the truth from me - I'd
realised my uncle was gay and I assumed that Phillip was his partner. But
given the strength of Uncle Kyle's views about the inferiority of the white
race, I wondered how he reconciled this belief with his choice of a white
partner.

Initially, as a small boy, I'd liked Phillip. He was always kind to me and
very attentive to all my needs. In fact, it would be fair to say Phillip,
spoiled me rotten. Nothing was ever too much trouble for him and
miraculously he had the happy knack of anticipating my every need. Very
rarely did I have to ask him for anything.

If I was thirsty or hungry, Phillip always knew and he provided me with a
light snack of cookies and a glass of milk or something more substantial in
the form of sandwiches and fruit juice. Phillip just 'knew' my requirements
and initially I marvelled at this.

And if I swam in Uncle Kyle's pool - which I did at every opportunity -
Phillip was always hovering close by keeping a watchful eye out for me by
applying sunscreen to protect me from the sun or helping me out of the pool
and drying me with a big, soft, fluffy towel.

Because of his kindness to me, I was fond of Phillip in those early years
and saw him as an 'honorary uncle', albeit a white one. I was too young to
understand that Phillip was serving me as his Master's slave. And of
course, I didn't know that for Phillip to serve me in this way was a labour
of love. I was his beloved Master's nephew and as such he saw this as his
duty.

Gradually, over time, my attitude to Phillip changed in unexpected
ways. Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me and I began to ask
questions about Phillip's place in my uncle's household. Even then, I was
considered too young by my father to be told the 'truth' about Phillip and
he told me that Phillip was my uncle's servant.

And that belief has stayed with me right up until today.

After my father told me that Phillip was Uncle Kyle's servant, my attitude
towards him underwent a marked change. I now saw him as nothing more than a
menial servant and undeserving of my respect. My former affection for him
dissipated and was replaced with an ill-concealed contempt and I suppose,
over the intervening years, I treated Phillip abominably.

Now, on my eighteenth birthday, I have been told the truth about Phillip.

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

I watch as Phillip moves around the dining table pouring freshly brewed
coffee from a pot into our cups. I am entranced by him and I truly envy my
Uncle Kyle his ownership of his white slave. Phillip is magnificent in his
erotic nakedness; nakedness made all the more interesting by the red cane
stripes on his plump, well-rounded ass cheeks and the angry imprints of his
Master's hand superimposed over them. Somehow, those stripes and the
handprints speak eloquently of his true status as Uncle Kyle's slave. Their
obvious presence on his body define him for what he really is - a naked,
white slave in servitude to a black Master.

It seems entirely appropriate to me that Phillip wears the sign of his
Master's displeasure on his body and I promise myself that whenever I own
my own white slave boy his ass will be striped more often than it is
unstriped.

And I am surprising myself; just a few short hours ago I had no idea that
Phillip was a slave - indeed I didn't know slavery existed other than in
the theoretical discussions between my father and uncle. Now I have been
made aware of it and I am 'blown away' by the idea that I, as a black man,
can own a white, slave boy of my own. How I hope that day isn't too long in
coming.

Beginning with my uncle, Phillip moves around the table pouring coffee. He
moves from Uncle Kyle's place at the head of the table to my father sitting
at the opposite end before moving around to my side. He pours my coffee
from my left side and his close, naked proximity unsettles me. My poor
cock, which has been teased almost beyond the limits of my endurance, once
more springs to life and not for the first time today, I feel a slight
dampness in my under briefs. Damn it!! But I just can't help myself.

Phillip is so close that I can smell his intoxicating body odour. And I
also detect something else that arouses me even further. His body is
covered in a slight sheen of perspiration and his pheromones combine with
the slightly scented sandalwood soap, and the subtly perfumed body cologne
that he uses, to tantalise me even further. I wonder why Phillip is
sweating. After all the room temperature isn't set too high and I would
have thought it would be just right given that he is naked. Then it occurs
to me that perhaps he is perspiring out of nervousness. Is Phillip sweating
out of fear of his impending whipping?

Tantalisingly, his ass is a few inches away from me and I can't resist the
urge to reach out and trace the outline of the cane marks that criss-cross
his buttocks. As I do so Phillip flinches involuntarily at my touch and he
overflows my coffee cup into its saucer and onto the table.

What happens next surprises me. Instinctively, I feel anger with Phillip
and I slap his ass - hard - two or three times. The sound of my open hand
striking his bare flesh echoes throughout the room and halts the discussion
between my father and Uncle Kyle. Surprised they look up to see what has
happened. But I think both are more surprised by my angry rebuke of
Phillip.

"Look what you have done, you stupid white slave."

"I'm sorry, Sir Jon! Forgive me, Sir Jon." Phillip's tearful apology
doesn't impress me and I continue my verbal abuse of him.

"YOU CARELESS, DUMB ASS SLAVE!" I bellow at him, "NOW, CLEAN UP YOUR MESS.
QUICKLY!"

Phillip moves towards the kitchen but is halted by my angry question.

"Where the Hell are you going? GET BACK HERE! NOW!"

Poor Phillip halts in his tracks and looks back at me. If I wasn't so
angry, I would see Phillip's distress and realise that my question only
confuses him.

"Sir Jon, I was going to the kitchen to fetch some paper towels to wipe up
after my stupid mistake."

"You don't need paper towels! Get back here!"

"Sir Jon," Phillip is nonplussed by my command, "how do I wipe up the
spilled coffee?'

"You have a tongue, don't you? Well then - use it, boy and start licking up
your mess."

Phillip falls to his knees alongside of me and begins to lick up the coffee
from the table and my saucer. I'm aware the silence in the room is broken
by the sound of Phillip's slurping as he uses his tongue to do my bidding.
I see my father and my uncle are watching Phillip and smiling. Embarrassed,
I wonder have I overstepped myself. After all, Phillip is my uncle's slave
and I have both slapped him and admonished him. Perhaps I have over reached
in interfering with Phillip but what I have just done feels so natural. And
so good!

Nevertheless, I apologise to Uncle Kyle. His response is gracious and I'm
surprised by his words.

"Jon! You have no need to apologise. Your response to Phillip's
carelessness is both natural and reasonable. I'm proud of you. Carry on!"

I'm encouraged by Uncle Kyle and once again I deliver a few stinging slaps
to Phillip's ass as he continues to clean up the spillage."

"Hurry up, we haven't all night."

Phillip is trembling uncontrollably and even though I can't see his face I
know he is crying.  The thought that both his trembling and his tears could
be caused by his fear of me is so empowering and for the first time I feel
that wonderful satisfaction that comes with controlling a white slave so
completely.

I watch the working of the muscles in Phillip's back as he bends over the
table and I marvel at its unmarked smoothness. The perfection of his back
will soon be marred by my uncle's whip and how I look forward to watching
as he applies the lash to his careless slave.

I now understand my uncle's earlier words about the punishment of a
slave. And really, Phillip deserves his upcoming flogging.

Phillip looks to me to inspect his work and I am satisfied. As he moves to
stand, I slap his face and order him to remain his knees where he waits
trembling for my next onslaught.

"That's better! You know something boy? You are just a stupid, dumb ass,
white, slave boy?  Do you know that?"

"Yes, Sir Jon." Phillip's answer is suitably subdued.

"THEN TELL ME! WHAT ARE YOU?"

"Sir Jon. I'm just a stupid, dumb ass, white, slave boy, Sir Jon."

"I'm sure your Master and Sir Lachlan didn't hear you. I barely did! Now
tell me what are you? AND TELL US LOUDER THIS TIME!"

"SIR JON. I'M JUST A STUPID, DUMB ASS, WHITE, SLAVE BOY, SIR JON!"

"That's better! With your Master's permission I might just call you 'dumb
ass' from now on."

Poor Phillip! He looks the picture of misery. He is so crestfallen and he
looks so forlorn. Still kneeling before me, his body shakes with
emotion. Or is it fear of my anger? I would like to think so! But I still
haven't finished with him yet. I lean forward and once more, I slap both
sides of his face.

"Get on your feet and fetch me a clean cup and saucer. And be quick about
it."

As Phillip scrambles to his feet and hastens towards the kitchen, I shout
further instructions after him.

"Dumb ass! I said be quick about it. Move your lazy white ass. RUN!"

My father and my uncle break into loud laughter as they watch Phillip run
from the room. It has to be said, Phillip moved with alacrity; in less than
a 30 seconds he is back with a clean cup and saucer and he has filled it
with fresh coffee. He waits until I dismiss him and he returns to my
uncle's side and now stands in the modified slave position.

"Well done, Jon! I'm proud of you. You certainly handled that situation
with great finesse. I doubt that Phillip will ever take you for granted now
that he knows what's in store for him should he displease you. Jon, today
you have taken a big step forward in mastering a slave.  You are a credit
to the concept of Black Rule and I'm sure your father is as proud of you as
I am. Isn't that so, Lachlan?"

"Indeed I am Kyle! I didn't know Jon had it in him to be such a hard
master. I'm proud of you, son"

"And you worried that Jon might reject the whole notion of black
supremacy." Uncle Kyle chuckles. "Lachlan, your fears were groundless. Your
son does you credit."

Naturally, I am delighted with my father's and my uncle's comments. Their
approval means so much to me. And really today has been a day of
self-discovery. So much of my inner self has been revealed and I have
discovered my true nature. And I like what I am. I am a proud black man who
now sees the inferior white race as subservient to my needs. I promise
myself that I will have my own white slave as soon as it is practicable.

Uncle Kyle hasn't yet finished with Phillip and as he speaks, I see
Phillip's knees sag - just a little - and his face goes white.

"Well Jon. Even though you handled Phillip's indiscretion admirably, I fear
he is in need of more correction. He has displeased me once too often today
and now he must pay the price for his earlier forgetfulness and his latest
carelessness. Ten strokes of the whip should do the trick. What do you
think, Jon?"

"I think ten strokes would be most appropriate, Uncle Kyle."

I'm flattered that my uncle has asked my opinion but then he goes on to
say.

"And Jon, in view of your firm handling of Phillip, I think it is
appropriate that you should help in his punishment. Would you like to help
in whipping him?"

My uncle's question is unexpected and I stammer out my reply.

"If you think I'm capable Uncle Kyle ...... Well.... yes, I'd like to try
my hand with the whip.  But I've never used one before."

"Don't worry, Jon. I'll give you a demonstration in how to use the whip
before I let you loose on Phillip. It's not difficult and after the first
few strokes you'll soon have the hang of it. And anyway, how do you think
your father and I learned how to whip a slave? We were like you once and
your grandfather taught us. Now it is our turn to teach you. Are you up for
it, Jon?"

What can I say other than - "YES?"

Uncle Kyle's admission that he and Dad had been taught to whip slaves by my
grandfather shocks and intrigues me.

My paternal grandparents live interstate on a large farming property
several hundred miles from the city. This combination of distance and my
father's work commitments mean that we are infrequent visitors to his
parents. Thinking back, I recall that it was two years last Christmas since
I had seen them. On that occasion, Uncle Kyle, Dad and I had driven down to
spend Christmas with them.

Like my father and Uncle Kyle, my grandfather, Terrel and grandmother,
Laqueta are strong supporters of black supremacy and I remember the lively
debates they had engaged in with my father and Uncle Kyle. All four had
argued with such passion and strength of conviction that left me in no
doubt about my own black superiority.

As a sixteen year old - as I was then - I listened silently to their
interminably long tirades against the white race and to be honest I found
the subject bored me. I would much rather be back in the city with my
friends. To my mind their arguments were academic and without
substance. After all, one needs only to look around to see that commerce
and politics are firmly invested in white hands and rail as much as he
likes, the black man is at a disadvantage. Unfair as it is, the black man
just doesn't compete on an even playing field.

It's true that our society is an open one and espouses equal opportunities
for all. However there is a big difference between the concept of this and
its application. The reality is that the black man has to work much harder
and draw deeper on his own resources to compete and to succeed in a white
dominated society. Therefore his success is earned by his merit and it's
not handed to him on a silver platter as is the case with so many whites. A
black man can take justifiable pride in his achievements. He has truly
earned his successes.

I never considered myself as an 'inferior' to the whites - indeed the seeds
of my own superiority had been carefully planted by my father and Uncle
Kyle during my childhood years. They lay dormant in the fertile soil of my
young mind waiting for the first spring rains of my own awakening to the
concept of Black Rule to germinate them.

Today, with the revelation that Phillip is Uncle Kyle's white slave, it has
rained and those seeds are now sprouting.

My grandparents have a male field-hand to help around the farm and a woman
to assist in the house. I'd never paid much attention to them but I
believed they were husband and wife and I knew they were 'long-time'
employees who faithfully served my grandparents.  And as is the case with
Phillip, I'd only ever viewed them as servants.

Now in light of what Uncle Kyle has just said about my grandfather teaching
him to use the whip on a slave I am left to wonder about the 'real'
condition of my grandparents' workers.  Are they also white slaves? The
thought that this could be so excites me. I need to know more about my
grandparents.

"What are you saying, Uncle Kyle? Are you telling me that Grandma and
'Pops' support the idea of you having Phillip as your white slave?"

"Indeed they do, Jon. In fact, your grandmother helped to train Phillip
when he first became my slave."

To say I'm surprised by this is an understatement and I'm left wondering
about how my grandmother trained Phillip. There is so much I don't know
about my family - mostly my family interests are centred on my father and
Uncle Kyle - and I want to know more. Indeed I want to know everything
about my grandparents.

Momentarily there is a pause in the conversation and as Uncle Kyle and my
father exchange glances, I sense each is asking questions of the
other. Their eyes meet and then I see my father's almost imperceptible nod
of affirmation. Uncle Kyle takes a deep breath and continues.

"Jon, there is something you need to know about yourself and your
family. We have kept this from you until today, but your father and I feel
the time is right for you to be told about your heritage."

Uncle Kyle's cryptic words intrigue me. What else have they kept from me
until today and what is it he is about to tell me? Is there some dark
secret in the family's background?  Or is there some skeleton hidden away
in the family closet? I need to know. NOW!

"What is it, Uncle Kyle? Please tell me. Don't keep me in suspense."

"Jon, you are a member of a proud black family that has owned white slaves
for several generations."

"But I don't understand. How can our family be slave owners? Slavery is
illegal, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is Jon! Well at least officially. But there is also unofficial
slavery which is very much alive and more widespread than most people
realise. But it is very much underground so most are unaware of it. It is
very much like the situation between Phillip and me. You weren't aware of
it until today."

That is true. But recently I have had my suspicions about Phillip. I saw
him as a very submissive person who was under Uncle Kyle's domination and I
assumed this was normal in a homosexual relationship. I'd been told he was
my uncle's servant but I never saw him as a slave. That is until today when
I'd been told the truth about Phillip's true relationship to my uncle.

I am aware that there are 'Masters and slaves' in the wider community. But
I regard this as some kind of 'kinky' sex where people engage in role play
and it isn't real slavery. But now my father and uncle tell me that slavery
is real and that we belong to a proud, slave-owning family. How can this
be? Does that mean my grandparents' employees are in reality slaves?  The
thought that this could be so has an electrifying effect on my cock which
once more it springs into prominence.

"Uncle Kyle, what do you mean by saying the family are slave-owners? You
said Grandma trained Phillip. I don't understand."

"It's as I said, Jon. Your grandparents own white slaves and their parents
owned white slaves before them. And their parents had white slaves before
them. The family's ownership of white slaves goes back several
generations. You are the latest in a long line of black superiors. And you
should be proud of your family's heritage. Your father and I are very proud
of our family's ownership of white slaves."

Today has been a day of surprises. My eighteenth birthday is a day of
revelations. I have learned things today that border on the
incomprehensible. First, I learned that my uncle's partner/servant is in
fact his slave and through that I have discovered my true self and it has
awakened new emotions within me. My father and uncle have opened a door
into a strange, new world. It is an exciting world and it beckons me to
........ 'Come and explore'.

If what they are telling me is true then all their discussions on Black
Rule -the ones I'd considered as academic or boring - take on a new
relevance. And I listen to Uncle Kyle's words with a new interest.

"Jon, I know all this will come as a surprise to you. Indeed you're
entitled to be surprised."

"Dad..... Uncle Kyle, I'm confused! I know you are both ardent supporters
of black supremacy. I know that! After all I've been listening to you two
banging on about black superiority for as far back as I can remember. And I
don't doubt the sincerity of your beliefs.  But I'd always thought your
arguments were theoretical and more in the nature of some intellectual
discussion. Very much like 'UFOs' and 'black holes' that sort of stuff and
I never took you seriously. Now you tell me my grandparents own slaves just
like you do Uncle Kyle.  How come I never knew this? Why did you wait until
today to tell me?"

"The decision not to tell you was mine, Jon." My father tells me. "And your
uncle agreed with me. However, your grandfather wasn't happy with our
decision. If he'd had his way you'd have always known he is the owner of
white slaves. He has told us many times over the years that we were keeping
you from your birth right. Perhaps he was right. But I wanted you to know a
normal life before you were told. I wanted to raise you very much as other
kids in the community so that when your uncle and I did tell you about the
family you could make your own informed decision about what lifestyle you
chose to follow. Your uncle and I didn't have that option and we felt it
was important that you did. Does this make sense to you, Jon?"

"Well, I suppose it does.... But what did you mean when you said you and
Uncle Kyle didn't have an option? I'm still a little confused."

"Put simply Jon, as both your uncle and I grew up we were served by naked,
white slaves.  There was never a time when your grandparents didn't own
white slaves and as kids, the two slaves currently owned by your
grandparents were there to wait on us and to cater to our every need. And
your grandparents only moved within a circle of family and friends who
owned white slaves. We never knew any other life. We never knew there was
an alternative to living in a slave household. And when the time came for
us to go into the wider world - to go to College and later when we started
our careers - it came as something of a shock to know white servitude isn't
universally practised. Can you understand that?"

"Yes Dad! I do get that. You said you and Uncle Kyle were shocked when you
realised that white servitude wasn't normal practise. But can you imagine
my shock at learning it is practised within my family and I didn't know or
even suspect that it was?"

"Yes Jon, both your uncle and I do understand your surprise. Indeed we have
discussed this matter many times over the years. In many ways it would have
been easier to tell you all this years ago. But in all honesty, we felt we
were acting in your best interests."

"That maybe so Dad," I'm unhappy with my father's answer, "but I think I
had a right to know these things and not to have been kept in the dark. I
agree with my grandfather; I had a right to know."

I know my father and Uncle Kyle love me - indeed in many ways their lives
revolve around me - and I appreciate that their decisions regarding me are
always made with the best of intentions. But to have kept this secret from
me for so many years is monumentally wrong.  And I am both disappointed and
hurt. As my grandfather said; by not telling me they had denied me my
family heritage. And what a heritage it is. I am so disappointed not to
have shared in it before today

Yet even though I am just now learning about it, I am also excited. The
knowledge that Phillip is a white slave came as a surprise and that had
excited me. But to hear that my family practise white slavery is a
revelation and I want to know all about it. There are so many questions I
need answers to.

"Jon! Don't be hard on your Dad." Uncle Kyle's words are faintly
reprimanding. "He acted with your best interests at heart. And I know you
will realise this too when you have had time to digest all we have told
you. Also remember that I share some of the responsibility. I agreed with
your father. It would have been easier on every one if you'd known Phillip
was my slave. I'm sure even Phillip would agree with me. Wouldn't you boy?"

I'd forgotten about Phillip. But then it has always been easy to overlook
him. I'd always regarded Phillip as a timid person - too shy to speak in
company - and so in more recent years I have ignored him. Of course to day,
I have learned the truth about Phillip's "shyness".

"Yes Master."

"Yes what, Phillip? You have my permission to speak. Tell Sir Jon what you
think, boy."

"Yes Master. Thank you, Master. Sir Jon I have always wanted to serve you
as my Master's slave. But I never could. Master and Sir Lachlan ordered me
to be discreet in how I served you. I was instructed by them to act as
Master's servant and not as his slave. But Sir Jon....whenever you have
visited, I have always wanted to kneel before you and kiss your feet in
homage. It has been hard for me, Sir Jon, not to pay you the proper respect
that I owe you as my Master's nephew. I am so happy that all that is behind
us and I can now serve you as my Master's slave."

Phillip's words are spoken from the heart and I am deeply touched by
them. It would be so easy to forget he is only a slave and to thank
him. But I resist the temptation and ignore him.

Nevertheless, I do appreciate his sentiments and his gentle nature. They go
some way to sweetening my sour disposition towards my father and uncle. Why
even my displeasure with Phillip's earlier clumsiness is partly mollified
and I almost wish that he be spared his whipping. But that would be going
too far. The slave offended and he must be punished.

Besides I'm looking forward to participating in his whipping and once more
my cock jerks itself into prominence beneath the table at the very thought
of the lash falling on Phillip's exposed back.

And not for the first time today, I tell myself how fortunate Uncle Kyle is
to own such a loving and devoted slave.

"Jon, I guess there are many questions you want to ask of your father and
me. Am I right?"

"Yes Uncle Kyle. There are so many things I want to know."

"Then fire away, Jon. Your father and I will answer all your
questions. Isn't that so Lachlan?"

"You said before that my grandparents own slaves and their parents before
them. How long have the family been slave-owners?"

"For a very long time, Jon. Almost a hundred years."

"That long!" my exclamation is one of surprise.

"Yes Jon, it is a long time isn't it? And it isn't only your grandparents
who have slaves. The whole extended family members are slave-holders from
way back. I told you earlier that yours is a long heritage and you should
be proud of it. Our family has always been committed to the concept of
Black Rule. And it isn't just an academic notion as you said earlier. We
not only subscribe to the theory of black supremacy; we live it. And do so
proudly!"

I always knew I belonged to a large, extended black family who are spread
widely throughout the country but I had only ever met a few of them - and
then only briefly. I sometimes hear Dad and Uncle Kyle discuss an aunt, an
uncle or a cousin who lives interstate. But they meant nothing to me. But
now Uncle Kyle speaks as though they are all slave-owners.

"Dad! Uncle Kyle! Are you telling me that it isn't only your parents who
have slaves? That we have other relatives who own slaves too?"

"Yes Jon, I am." My father answers. "All our uncles and aunts and cousins
own slaves. Isn't that right Kyle?"

"Jon, what your father is telling you is correct. When we were growing up
all our relatives owned white slaves. And those who are alive still do."

"This is incredible!" I'm sure the tone of my voice reflects my
incredulity. "How many slaves do the family own? What numbers are we
speaking of?"

"It's hard to give a definitive number, Jon. Remember the family is
scattered all over the country and we aren't in touch with them all. I
remember your grandfather once mentioned that the extended family owned
between thirty to thirty-five white slaves. But he said that was a
conservative estimate and the numbers could be higher. We can only tell you
of the ones that we know of."

"Please Uncle Kyle tell me about them."

"Well for a start there is Phillip and I have owned him for twelve
years. And your grandparents have owned their two slaves for much
longer. Those two served on the farm and in the household when your Dad and
I were small boys. And there are other slaves. Your great uncle Maalik owns
a white slave whose ancestors were themselves owners of black slaves back
in the 'Old South". Believe me that slave lives a hard life; he is
certainly paying for the 'sins of his fathers'. His Master works him hard
and punishes him even harder. White slaves who are descendants from the old
slave-owning families are highly desirable and it's prestigious to own such
a slave. Their family histories make them quite valuable. Usually they live
in 'tough slavery' because their families once owned black slaves. They're
made to pay a high price for that.  "

"And don't forget Uncle Fremont" My father breaks in." When he died a few
years ago he bequeathed his male slave to his son Deion, our cousin, who
now owns him together with a female slave just like Mom and Dad."

"Yes I'd forgotten about that slave."  Uncle Kyle recalls. "He is getting
on in years now. I last saw him a few years ago when I was home visiting
with Phillip. Uncle Fremont was staying with Mom and Dad at the same
time. I remember Uncle Fremont telling me then that he'd owned the slave
since he was aged in his twenties. I'm guessing the slave's age as
somewhere in his fifties which means he's been an owned slave for about
thirty years."

"I can't recall that visit Kyle. How long were you home for?"

"I was there for just a few days. But I'm sure it seemed longer for
Phillip. Dad made good use of both Phillip and Uncle Fremont's slave. He
had them work alongside his own male slave every day they were there.  He
worked all three of them so hard and he strapped their skinny white asses
to keep them on their toes. But you know Dad, Lachlan. He isn't one to have
a slave standing idly by. At the end of the day the three slaves were
exhausted and still their chores weren't finished. They had to follow up
with house chores. And of course, Mom didn't let up on them either. She
supervised them and used her crop to good effect."

"Yes! I know what you mean, Kyle. Mom was always very efficient at wielding
her crop on a slave boy's skinny, white ass."

Suddenly, Uncle Kyle begins to chuckle softly but soon breaks into
laughter. Dad and I exchange glances and wonder what is amusing Uncle
Kyle. Had Phillip done something to amuse his Master that we had missed?

 I look at Phillip but he is still standing perfectly still in the modified
display position with his eyes firmly fixed on the table. His face is
expressionless yet I sense he knows why his Master is laughing and I wonder
if Uncle Kyle's humour is at his slave's expense.

"Well come on Kyle. What's tickled your funny bone? Aren't you going to
share the joke with Jon and me?"

"Speaking of Mom and her crop just reminded me of an incident that happened
during that visit. One evening, Dad, Uncle Fremont and I were having a
quiet beer in the lounge before dinner. All four slaves were working in the
kitchen - the three males were under the direction of the female slave -
and Mom went out to check on them. I don't know what happened but suddenly
all hell broke loose. Mom really let fly and chewed their asses as only Mom
can do. All we could hear was Mom bellowing at them and the slap of her
crop on their bare asses. Naturally we went out to see what all the fuss
was about. The first thing I noticed was Mom laying into Phillip with her
crop. She really had him hopping from leg to leg as she tanned his sorry
ass for him. It was almost as though Phillip was dancing a jig.  Poor
Phillip! He looked so comical. Then she turned her crop onto the other two
slaves and laid into them. Mom really excelled herself that night. But for
Phillip, I'm sure it is a night to remember. Isn't that so boy?"

"Yes Master!"

Phillip's answer is eloquently simple yet there is something in it that
tells me it is a night he'd rather forget.

The vision of Phillip dancing a 'jig' is a humorous one and Dad and I join
with Uncle Kyle in his mirth. But a sideways glance at Phillip shows he
doesn't share our good humour. His face is flushed and I wonder is he
blushing from embarrassment as he recalls the humiliation of that
occasion. I think even a white slave would be shamed at being so publicly
punished by his black mistress.

I am discovering so much about my grandparents. I am fascinated by them and
I want to hear more. Uncle Kyle keeps referring to their 'bare asses'. Does
that mean their slaves are naked? I'm now aware that Uncle Kyle keeps
Phillip nude and somehow it seems perfectly natural that he does so. But my
grandparents are different. They are mature aged and wouldn't they draw the
line at having their male slave walk around in the buff. And what about
their female slave? Is she naked too?

"Dad, are your parents' two slaves kept naked at all times?"

"Yes Jon, those slaves never wear clothes. Nakedness is perfectly natural
for them. Nudity is a slave's uniform so to speak."

"Jon a slave would feel unnatural if he wore clothes." My uncle adds to my
father's comments. "Look at Phillip. He's happiest without clothes and he
always hated having to wear them when you came to visit. Telling you about
Phillip's true status today is a big relief for your Dad and I and I know
it is for Phillip too. From now on Phillip can be what he really is in
front of you- a naked, white slave."

"So when you and Phillip visit your parents, he is naked too?"

"Always Jon. Your grandfather would NEVER allow a slave to wear clothes in
his presence. If I dared to allow Phillip to wear clothes in front of your
grandfather, he'd chew my ass and punish Phillip."

But why would he punish Phillip? After all, Phillip would only wear clothes
if you ordered him to. Surely, it wouldn't be Phillip's fault?"

"Ahh Jon! That's a distinction your grandfather wouldn't make. In his
thinking, the slave is always at fault and never the Master. No he'd take
Phillip down to the barn, string him up to the rafters and whip him
severely. Jon there is one thing you need to remember about your
grandfather. He is very hard on his slaves. He disapproves of my lenient
treatment of Phillip.  He thinks I am 'too soft' in my handling of my
slave. Which I suppose is true. I do feel tenderness towards Phillip which
shows in my treatment of him."

The mention of my grandfather taking Phillip to his barn and whipping him
reminds me that Phillip is to face another whipping that I will have a hand
in. Beneath the table and obscured from the view of my father and uncle, my
undisciplined cock 'tent poles' the front of my jeans and my wetness tells
me I am leaking.

"Uncle Kyle did granddad ever whip Phillip?"

"Yes he has Jon. At the very beginning, during Phillip's initial training,
I recall your grandfather took Phillip down to the barn and 'whipped him
good'. That was a severe whipping and it's one I haven't allowed to be
repeated. Whenever your grandfather whips Phillip, I do restrict him in his
use of the whip. Your grandfather is very heavy handed with the whip. His
own slave is testament to that isn't he Lachlan?"

"Yes he is Kyle. Do you remember how Dad taught us how to whip his slave
and how he allowed us to practise on him? Remember how the slave used to
beg for mercy. That always amused me. The slave knew only too well that
once the 'old man' had strung him up there'd be no mercy shown. And yet
he'd still beg."

"Ahh yes Jon! Your Grandfather is a hard man on his slaves. But I guess
you'll find that out for yourself soon enough. Now that you know you come
from a slave-owning family, your father and I will have to arrange a visit
down to the farm. Your grandfather will be absolutely delighted to learn
that we have told you all about the family's white, slave- owning
history. What do you say, Lachlan?"

"Most definitely, Kyle. I'm long overdue for a visit. We should schedule it
soon. What do you say, Jon?"

In the past, the prospect of visiting my grandparents' farm had never
appealed to me. I had found those visits tedious. Now however, the prospect
of visiting them has taken on a new focus. I am anxious to see how a slave
farm functions. And I am eager to see how my grandparents control their
slaves.

"Yes please Dad. Can we make it soon? And Uncle Kyle, can we take Phillip
along too? I'd be keen to see how Granddad would work him."

"Don't worry Jon. Phillip will most definitely be accompanying us. He's not
to be left out on our trip to your grandparents."

I look in Phillip's direction. Phillip has been trained by my uncle not to
show emotion. But I do see the quick intake of his breath and the ever so
slight trembling of his limbs. Somehow, I suspect Phillip is less than
enthusiastic about our visit to my grandparents' farm. I wonder why?

I still have questions I need to ask and answers I want to hear.

To be continued.......