Date: Tue, 31 Jul 2012 19:46:37 -0700 (PDT)
From: Christian Debus <servus4u@ymail.com>
Subject: Re; "Phillip's Story" Chapter 5 (Gay Male/ Authoritarian  and Gay Male/ Interracial

Phillip's Story
Chapter 5: "Phillip is taken to the Vet"

This is a work 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 contained in this story are the writer's and
shouldn't be reproduced without his permission. Please respect the
integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add
pictures."

Writer's Note: This is a fictionalized account of actual, recent events
that happened to my slave friend, Phillip. Of course, it contains some
embellishments to make it more interesting to readers but it is essentially
as he experienced those events.

I'm grateful to Phillip's Master for his trust in allowing me to write
about his slave's life.



Chapter 5: Phillip is taken to the Vet

All day in my office, the impending visit to the Vet is uppermost on my
mind. My current work load is very heavy and requires all my concentration
and yet, always at the back of my mind is this evening's visit to the Vet
for my annual check-up.

This morning, Master and I had left home together and driven just the one
car to the railroad station where we caught the train and travelled into
the city. Master's appointment with the Vet was for 6.00 PM and I had to
leave work an hour earlier than normal and meet Master at Penn Station. We
then caught the train back to our local railroad station where we picked up
the car and drove to the Vet's consulting rooms.

As I chauffeured Master to keep his appointment, I thought back over the
reasons for why Master is taking me to see the Vet.

Master is most fastidious about my welfare. My health and wellbeing are
important to him and paramount to my good service to him as his slave. My
Master typifies all Black Superiors who, from my experience, value their
white slaves' health. After all, what Black Superior wants to worry over a
sickly or unfit white slave?  And of course, our inferior white status and
our inherent physical weaknesses do give our Black Masters just cause for
concern. They must be ever vigilant in their watch over us.

As with any other white slave, my real worth to my Master is in my ability
to serve him faithfully and well and to work hard to make his life as
enjoyable as I possibly can. This is my reason for being. It is my true
life's calling and my 'raison d'etre'. I exist for one reason only and that
is to serve my Master with all the love and devotion that resides within
me.

I have willingly given my life to my Master and it is his to do with
whatever he chooses!

Master lives on a secluded six acre plot made even more private by the
large number of trees that screen us from prying eyes. We are fortunate
that we have no neighbours to worry us and of course this allows me to work
naked fulltime both indoors and outdoors.  And this is as it should be;
nudity after all is the natural condition for all white slaves who serve
Black Superiors.

Master's is a large, two storied house which requires much upkeep and it
keeps me busy of an evening and at weekends.  Master is a stickler for good
housekeeping and I am kept busy with the usual household chores like
cooking and serving meals, cleaning, polishing, laundry and the myriad of
other things that go to make life pleasant for my Master.

Master, takes a special interest in my work and always inspects what I have
done. Sometimes Master will lead me by my cock on a tour of inspection of
my works. At other times, I crawl on all fours at Master's heels as he
moves around the house. If my efforts meet Master's high standards, then
nothing is said. A slave doesn't need praise for doing his chores properly,
does he? But if my work falls short of Master's requirements, then, quite
rightly, I am castigated and justifiably punished.

As with all aspects of my life, Master has worked out a program and a
timetable for me. For example, every Friday night, Master calls me to him
and presents me with a menu for the next week and a food and grocery
list. Each Saturday morning, I rise early - well I wake early every morning
- and I shop while Master is still in bed.

When I return from my shopping, I serve Master his breakfast and I wait in
the modified slave position as he gives me instructions for the day.

The six acres of grounds include a swimming-pool, a cabana and a barbecue
area that have to be maintained as well as the garden beds and
shrubberies. And of course, mowing of the grounds is a major part of my
duties.  Naturally, all of these require my constant attention under
Master's supervision.

Master loves to entertain and it's not uncommon for him to invite his Black
Superior friends to swim in the pool on a hot day and to enjoy a BBQ meal
served by myself and the visiting Superiors' slaves.  It's always
gratifying to me - and to my slave brothers - to serve our Masters and to
watch them frolicking in the pool on a hot day.  What greater joy is there
for a white slave than to see his Black Master spontaneously enjoying
himself?

As we slaves stand at poolside ready to hurry forward to dry our Masters of
to serve them refreshments, we sometimes envy them their freedom to swim
and enjoy a cool drink. But we never lose sight of our primary reason for
being there. We are there to serve our Masters and our needs are of no
consequence.

Master insists that most of our vegetables are home grown and he has
established a very productive vegetable patch that I must maintain - again
under his supervision. This involves digging over the garden beds,
fertilising them and planting out the seedlings followed by my nurturing of
them as they grow to maturity.

In winter there are open fireplaces to maintain; wood to chop and store and
on occasions, I must clear the snow from the driveway and pathways.

And throughout the year there are cars to be cleaned and maintained in the
immaculate condition that Master expects and demands of me.

I mention these things only to show why it is important to Master that I
stay healthy. Master needs me to be fit to attend to the many chores that
are a necessary part of my lot as his slave. My primary role - indeed my
only one - is to spare my Master all unnecessary domestic activity and to
allow him to relax in comfort and without undue worry.

Accordingly, once a year, Master takes me to the Vet for a complete medical
examination and usually I'm given my flu shots during those visits. If at
other times, my health gives Master cause for concern, then he'll also take
me to the Vet for treatment and a few months ago, Master was indeed
concerned for the healthy state of my balls.

Over the previous weekend, Master and some other Superiors had played a
polo match where the slaves were used as the polo ponies. The game was a
lot of fun and was played with great enthusiasm by the Superiors. The
ponies were ridden hard and whipped even harder to get the very best out of
them. Master, in an effort to encourage me to greater speed, used his crop
on my low hanging balls. It has to be said nothing spurs a pony or a slave
to greater effort that a sharp rap to the scrotum with a crop. I can vouch
for that!

Unfortunately, my balls had red welts afterwards and were very sore. Master
kept a wary eye on them and eventually decided to take me to the vet for an
inspection for any possible damage.

Of course, I appeared naked before the vet and his female Black nurse. This
is standard procedure and I'm sure the nurse is well-accustomed to seeing
naked, white, male slaves. I'm sure she sees us as just another form of
livestock and doesn't turn a hair at handling our bodies.

The vet examined my balls and found they'd not been damaged. However, he
did give Master a salve to use on them and over the next day or so Master
applied it most fastidiously. My testicles mean a lot to Master.

The vet asked Master how I came by my sore balls and Master explained that
it had happened at a polo game. This interested both the Vet and his nurse
and they asked Master more about the game.  Both said they'd like to
witness such a polo match where white slaves are ridden by their Black
Owners and they showed much interest and asked to be informed if another
game was ever organised.

I think the nurse's interest was very genuine. I sincerely believe she'd
like to watch Black Superiors using their white slaves as polo ponies. I
have since learned that she and the Vet have been invited to watch a polo
match scheduled for August.

All that day, the thought of my return visit to the Vet played on my
mind. Nervously, I kept looking at my watch and dreading the time when I
must leave the office to meet Master at Penn Station.

I do dislike going to the Vet. I guess for me it's the humiliation that I
feel as I am presented for the Vet's inspection by my Master. I always feel
there is little to distinguish me from a well-loved dog or other household
pet.

But inevitably, the time does arrive for me to leave my office and I meet
Master. When we arrive, the clinic is closed for the day and Master, as
arranged, uses his cell phone to call the Vet's receptionist and advise her
of his arrival.

The door is unlocked and I follow Master inside.

There is a set procedure that a slave must adhere to before he is taken
into the Vet's consulting room. Once through the door, Master waits as I
shuck off my business suit until I am completely naked. Then, very
carefully, I hang my clothes in a closet set aside for that purpose. As I
do so, I see that there are other clothes hanging in the closet which
indicates that I'm not the only slave present.

I follow Master into the reception area and over to a desk where a Black
Mistress - I estimate her age as being in her twenties - is working. Master
approaches her and I assume the full display position with my feet apart
and my hands behind my head. I stand silently and listen as Master and the
receptionist discuss me. They talk about me but not to me. I am a slave and
of no consequence.  As Master's property, all details are left to him to
finalise.

The receptionist eyes rake over my naked body as she visually appraises
me. Her gaze wanders from my head down over my nudity to my feet. Then she
asks Master.

"What is your animal's name?"

"He's called 'Phillip'."

"And why is your animal here? What's the purpose of this evening's visit?"

"I've brought him here for his annual check-up."

"Has the animal's insurance changed since its last check-up?"

"No!"

"Is the animal up-to-date with all its current shots?"

"Yes!"

"In that case the animal's co-payment is $10.00."

Master pays the $10.00 and is handed a receipt.

"As you can see there is another Superior ahead of you." The receptionist
tells Master. "If you'd like to take a seat and would you have your animal
kneel at your side with its legs spread wide, please?"

My humiliation washes over me and my nakedness burns red with my shame. But
why should I be humiliated? I know that what the receptionist just said to
Master is true. I am just a slave animal and an inferior white one at that.

Master moves to a seat and sits down. I kneel at his side with my legs
splayed as wide as possible so that my cock and balls are on full display
and lower my head.

As I do so, I catch a glimpse of another Superior and his slave.

Like my Master this Superior is Black and he is aged about twenty, His
slave is considerably older - I estimate his age as forty-five or there
about.

The slave is like me. Naked and kneeling at his Master's side with his legs
spread wide and his head bowed. Like me his cock and balls are prominently
displayed.

Master looks at the young Superior and smiles his greeting.

"Hi! How are you?"

"I'm well thank you." The young Superior smiles at Master and tells
him. "The vet has just taken a female slave in for an examination so I
guess we have a little while to wait."

"That's a fine looking slave you have there." Master compliments the young
Superior.

"Thank you! Yes he is a fine slave. He's just new to slavery and still
undergoing training.

"Tell me about your boy."  Master invites "He's a fine property. How did
you come by him?"

"He fell into my lap so to speak. I'm at College and he is my college
professor.  On my very first day he hit on me; I played my cards right and
it went from there. I soon had him eating out of my hand and before long he
was my slave."

The young Master slaps his slave's face to gain his attention and asks.

 "Isn't that right boy?"

"Yes Master!" The slave answers respectfully.

"So the slave is your professor during the day is that correct? And you are
the Master at home?"

"Yes that correct! Technically speaking he is in charge at College but in
name only. Always in his mind, he must acknowledge me as his Master. If,
during the day, he offends me by his speech of attitude towards me, he is
punished at home that same night. As you can see from his back and ass,
he's offended me a lot lately."

"How long have you owned him?"

"For only a few weeks. Isn't that so, slave?"

Another slap to the side of the face prompts the slave to answer.

"Yes Master, That's correct Master."

"So he's still very much undergoing his basic, introductory training?"

"Indeed he is. And it's proving very painful for him. But I never tire of
working with him to make him the slave I expect him to be. What about your
boy? Have you owned him for long?"

"I have owned my boy for eleven years. Although we were apart for the past
twelve months while I worked out of state. But that's behind us now and we
are together again. I have to say he disappointed me when I
returned. During my absence, he regressed so much and he had slipped back
into his old ways and bad habits. As you can see I've had to cane his ass a
lot."

"Does he have a name?"

"Yes, I named him Phillip."

"You've owned him for eleven years! Wow, that's a long time. I wonder if my
slave, Timtam and I will still be together eleven years from now."

"I don't see why not. Treat him with a firm hand and train him hard and
he'll serve you faithfully and devotedly. That's the great thing about
owning a white slave. Once he accepts that his true status is that of a
slave to the Black Race and that his only purpose is to serve a Black Owner
he'll be forever grateful and reward you with doglike loyalty. But be firm
with him. White slaves expect their Masters to treat them with an iron
fist. In fact, white slaves thrive under harsh Black Rule discipline."

"Thank you for your advice! I'll certainly remember what you have said."

"You've named your slave Timtam? That's unusual?"

"Well, in College he's known and looked up to as Professor Timothy D'Isle
Carstairs. That's too flash a name for a slave. So to keep him absolutely
focused on being a slave I gave him the more derogatory name of Timtam."

"I love it." Master laughs. "Of course I don't call my boy by his given
name. He's known simply as slave Phillip. But tell me why is Timtam here?
Is he ill?"

"No, he's in good health! As you can see he's a bit out of condition but
we're working on that aren't we boy?"

"Yes Master!"

"Well don't be shy, boy.  Tell the Sir what we're doing to correct things."

"Sir, Mast...... "

"Speak up Timtam. We can't hear you!" The slave's young Master delivers a
stinging slap to the slave's face. Crestfallen, he obeys and speaks louder.

"Sir, my Master has placed me on a strict no fat diet and I have to
exercise daily to improve my fitness."

"Good for him!  Boy, I hope you're grateful to your Master for his concern
for your well-being?"

"Yes Sir, I'm very grateful to my Master. And thank you Sir for your
interest in me."

Both Masters ignore the slave's words and the young Master continues with
his reasons for bringing his slave to the surgery.

"This is my slave's first 'getting to know to know the Vet' visit. The Vet
wants to examine him and give him all of his tests before placing him in
his list of patients. I booked him in within a few days of enslaving him
but because of the time it takes to enter a new slave into the system,
today was the earliest the doctor could see him. And I understand that the
doctor wants to give him his flu and tetanus shots today."

"Those are very necessary for a slave's wellbeing. After he's examined,
Phillip will be given his shots too."

The two Superiors continue to talk as I and the other slave stay silent and
of course, as expected by our Masters, we remain perfectly still. This is
one of the cardinal rules of slave behaviour - a slave NEVER fidgets or
makes any movements that cause embarrassment to his owner. In my case, this
isn't a problem. Master has trained me well and I am able to maintain
complete stillness for indefinite periods of time. But it wasn't always
this way.

Master had to work hard to teach me that unnecessary movement on my part
was unacceptable behaviour. Initially, I was punished but with Master's
perseverance - if not his patience - I did acquire the ability to stand or
kneel immobile for lengthy periods of time.

No Master wants to be distracted by a 'fidgety' slave. A slave needs to be
always on hand ready to step forward to serve his Master but at all other
times he must stand silently and motionless in the background.

I now have this ability whether it is serving Master and his guests in the
dining-room or at a poolside barbecue. I stand unobtrusively with my hands
clasped behind my back and resting on my ass. Apart from my breathing, the
only movements I make are with my eyes which are firmly fixed on my Master
and his needs. I am ever vigilant and ready to step forward immediately to
serve him without his prompting.

There is one other movement I make that I was unaware of until Master
pointed it out to me.  One Christmas, I was driving Master to visit his
parents and we were talking about a recent story I'd read where the
principal slave character was described as having a cock that twitched
involuntarily.  Master told me that my cock also twitches. This surprised
me, but I am now well aware that it does.  Sometimes this is commented on
my Master's guests.

So while I have the ability to kneel motionless, the other slave
doesn't. He is very new to his slavery and I recall back to my early days
and how hard it was for me to stay still. I sympathise with the slave as I
imagine his cramped muscles and the stress placed on his lower back and his
splayed knees.  Suddenly, he is slapped by his Master and ordered to.

"Stop fidgeting! Stay still and kneel quietly!"

The slap reverberates loudly around the room and causes the receptionist to
look up from her desk.  Approvingly, she notes that the Master has his
slave under his control and she returns to her work.

At that moment, an inner door opens as a Black Mistress leaves the Vet's
consulting room. She is followed by the Vet and a naked, white female
slave. Mostly, my exposure to other slaves is with males. But some
Superiors in Master's circle of friends do own female slaves and I do come
into contact with them. White, female slaves aren't all that uncommon and
within my Master's family there are several female slaves.

Master's parents own two white slaves - one male and one female. Indeed
Master grew up in a household where white slavery has flourished for many
years. As boys, both Master and his brother, Sir Lachlan were exposed to
slaves of both sexes. And I know within Master's extended family there are
other female slaves. Master's uncle has a slave couple who were mated and
produced a male progeny who also serves with them.

Essentially my sexuality is 'gay'. But I should hasten to say that my
sexual orientation is unimportant.  As a slave it is whatever my Master
wishes it to be. Should my Master decide to couple me with another male
slave then that is his right? But should he wish to breed me to a female
that too is his choice and any reluctance or anti-female bias on my part is
absolutely of no consequence and wouldn't be tolerated by Master.

A slave's sexuality - as with his body - belongs to his Master! All choices
belong to the Master and none to the slave who has only one option open to
him; instant compliance with his Master's commands. A slave's role is to
obey immediately and without comment.

The Vet farewells the Mistress and as she and her slave leave, he calls for
the young Superior to follow him into the examination room. As the slave
stands and follows his Master through the door, I see that his ass and back
are horribly marked by the whip and the cane. The tell-tale stripes and the
blue-black bruising tell me that the slave has suffered much at his
Master's hands. It also tells me that the slave has a strict Master which
augers well for the slave and his training. He will learn quickly or suffer
the painful consequences for his lack of diligence and inattention to
detail.

As an inferior, white slave, I know we can only learn through constant,
harsh training and firm chastisement.  In this, we are fortunate for there
are no better teachers than our Black Masters.

The silence in the room feeds my nervousness. From previous visits, I know
I have approximately fifteen to twenty minutes before the Vet calls for
Master when it will be my turn to be examined.

Suddenly, we are joined by another Superior and his white slave. Both
Master and slave are in their mid-twenties and as the Superior talks to the
receptionist, the slave stands as I did in the display position.

I hear the receptionist as she repeats the questions she'd asked Master.

"What is your animal's name?"

"And why is your animal here? What's the purpose of this evening's visit?"

"Has the animal's insurance changed since its last visit?'

And.

"Is the animal current on all its shots?"

These questions are routinely asked of every Black Superior who presents
his white slave for a medical check-up. And you'd think I would be used to
them. But each time I hear them repeated, I am reminded of what I really am
- a naked, white, slave animal in service to the superior Black Race.

The Superior takes a seat facing Master and his slave kneels by his
side. Obediently, the slave spreads his knees and places his cock and balls
on show then submissively lowers his head. I have a chance to fleetingly
look at the slave and there are several things that I notice. The first it
that the slave - despite his youth - is completely hairless and the second
is the pallor of his skin.

Without any hair it is hard to say what colour that hair would be. But
judging from his brilliant blue eyes, I would guess he is a natural blond.

As I look at him I can't help but contrast his almost ghostly white colour
to that of his Black Master.  His colour is cold while his Master has a
rich, warm appearance. I wonder if the Master deliberately keeps this slave
so pale to act as a counterfoil to his own complexion.

I think about this and I'm stuck by the slave's insipid appearance. I
believe he epitomises the vast gulf that separates the Black Race from the
inferior white one.

To me Black Superiors always look so alive, so vibrant and so vital. We
whites on the other hand appear weak and puny by comparison. And this slave
emphasises these points most eloquently.

As I look at the slave I see the inherent weaknesses of the white race. I
see that we are genetically inferior to all Blacks and we lack their vigour
and vitality. By comparison we are but mere shadows of their inherent
greatness.

This slave demonstrates my own inherited weaknesses to me. Through him, I
recognise that I am in all ways my Master's inferior. And I am overwhelmed
with gratitude that Master has given me an opportunity to redeem myself in
his eyes and the chance to serve him and through him to honour, serve and
obey the wider Black community. I have much to be thankful for.

I wish I could break my silence and to kiss my Master's feet in homage and
tell him of my feelings.  But I am an obedient slave and maintain my
position and my silence. Perhaps later tonight, at home, I will be able to
kneel at my Master's feet and to kiss them and express my feelings of
gratitude to him.

The minutes tick slowly by as Master awaits his consultation with the
Vet. I guess some fifteen minutes later, the young Superior returns with
his slave to the waiting room. He approaches the desk and his slave assumes
the full display position and stands silently as his Master makes another
appointment with the receptionist. I wonder why the slave is to return to
the Vet.

Then, they return to the closet where the Master orders his slave to dress
before leaving the clinic.

Still we wait! Then finally, the receptionist calls out Master's name and
invites him to.

"The Vet is ready for you and your property! Could you please take your
animal through for its examination?"

As Master walks towards the consulting-room, I scramble to my feet and
hurry after him.

It is now my turn to be examined and despite knowing what is to happen, I
am overcome with nervousness.

I have been in this room many times before. After all, I have been a slave
for eleven years and these annual check-ups are more or less routine. And
yet, they still make me nervous. I know I shouldn't be and that I must
trust my Master's good judgment and wise decisions.

In his infinite wisdom, Master has decided these yearly examinations are
for my own good and therefore I should be grateful to him for his
thoughtfulness. And I should recognize them as an indication of how highly
Master values me as his property.

I know my Master is fastidious in all things. He maintains his home and its
surrounds in immaculate condition and ensures all is kept in excellent
working order. His cars are serviced regularly and I am charged with seeing
that they are kept clean and polished at all times.

Given that Master values his possessions so highly, why then wouldn't he
apply those same standards to his slave and his upkeep. I am just another
of Master's possessions - and perhaps it's bigheaded of me - but I like to
think that he prizes me as highly as any other of his worldly goods.

I should recognize Master's benevolence in bringing me before the Vet for
my examination. He has gone to considerable effort to bring me here this
evening. Indirectly, I have disrupted his work schedule and he has altered
his plans to accommodate me.

I walk to the center of the room and stand at the full display position as
Master greets the Vet and his nurse. All three are known to each other and
their conversation is friendly. I am ignored; my presence in the room is
probably noted but beyond that it is as though I don't exist.

The Vet questions Master about his long absence working out of state and
how he is resettling back into his old position. Their conversation
continues for several minutes during which time my nervousness
intensifies. Then the Vet begins his examination of my body.

I know the routine he will follow and I stand still as he explores my
body. He works dispassionately as his expert hands run over my arms and
legs pausing to squeeze them in a test for my muscle tone.  He gauges my
chest and pulls at my nipples to check my reflexes. His hands roam down
over my belly pinching it for any flabbiness and a finger is inserted into
my navel; a visual check shows that it's as it should be - deeply indented
with no protuberance.

Next, the Vet turns me so that my back is to him. He gauges the width of my
shoulders and examines my spinal column. He takes an ass cheek in either
hand and squeezes hard before parting my buttocks and running his finger up
my ass-crack. As his finger makes contact with my anus, a slight shudder
runs through me. He reaches between my legs and grabs my scrotum.  Then,
releasing it, I am turned so that I face him once more. He takes my balls
into a cupped hand and jiggles them up and down as though weighing them.

The Vet takes hold of my cock and stretching it out from my groin, he
squeezes my piss-slit causing me to flinch. He approach is dispassionate
and he ignores my discomfort. It is as though I am of no more importance
than a family pet. Several times, he pulls my cock away from my body and
allows it to 'slap' back into its resting position.

This first part of my examination is over and the Vet now questions Master.

"How has the slave's general health been?"

"I don't know of any problems." Master answers. "I did keep a check on him
when I was working out of state and he wasn't sick at all."

What about his bladder? He's urinating ok?"

"Yes he pees ok and there no problems there!"

"Good! And what about his bowel movements - are they regular?  Have you
noticed any problems with him excreting?"

"No, none at all!"

"That's excellent!  I'll check out his cardiovascular fitness."

Over the next few minutes, the Vet checks my breathing and heart-beat, he
takes my blood-pressure and he is pleased with the results. He tells
Master.

"Your slave's in good shape. His heart and lungs are sound and his
blood-pressure is as I would expect it to be."

The Vet's interest in me now moves to my head. As he minutely examines my
ears, he tilts my head from one side to another and inserts an Otoscope to
check my outer and middle ears. He is pleased and tells Master that both
ears are free of infection or any build-up of wax.

My eyes are the next to be inspected.  He shines a thin needlepoint light
into my eyes and pulls down on my bottom lid as he comments to Master.

"His eyes are sound. The pupils aren't dilated and there's no yellowing of
the whites."

Now my head is pushed back as the Vet examines my nose. He shines his torch
up each nostril and declares them to be clear and free of polyps.

Now for the first time, he speaks to me and tells me to open my mouth wide
and to poke out my tongue.

I obey and the Vet orders me to raise and lower my tongue as he examines
both it and my teeth.  Again, I pass inspection and this is conveyed to
Master.

To date my inspection is going well.

The Vet is finished with me temporarily and the nurse now takes charge of
me. She orders me to step onto a set of surgery scales to be
weighed. Nervously, I look to see if I have gained weight. I'm sure Master
would be most displeased with me if I had.  Master carefully controls my
diet and limits my food and liquid intakes to ensure that I retain my trim
figure.

I am gratified to see that I haven't gained any weight since my last
examination.  I weighed 173 lbs.  then and that is my current weight. Next
the nurse takes my body measurements and places special emphasis on my
waistline. Again I am fortunate; my waist measurement is the same 34 inches
it was at my last inspection.

While I am being measured and weighed, Master and the Vet talk about
me. The Vet asks Master very general questions about my health and
fitness. Master outlines to the Vet that during his absence working out of
state, I had become slack in my attitudes and that he is now working very
hard to bring me back "into line".

The Vet suggests to Master that he needs to take a firm hand with me just
as he does with his two slaves. I shudder at his reference to a "firm
hand". I know the Vet owns two, white slaves and that he is a very stern
Master. He favours the whip over the cane and the strap and I know his
slaves are regularly whipped.

Now comes the part of my examination that I truly hate - the examination of
my cock and balls and a digital inspection of my ass. Firstly, the Vet
minutely examines each of my balls for any abnormalities by rolling them
between his fingers and gently squeezing them.

I know that this last test is common for men who present themselves to a
doctor for a routine examination. But as free men they have this
choice. However, I'm not a free man. I am a slave and I didn't come here of
my own volition. My Master brought me here and I had no choice in the
matter.

Once more The Vet takes hold of my balls and orders me to cough. I do so
and he orders me to cough again. He repeats his order several times and I
respond by coughing louder and harder.

Satisfied that all is well and I haven't any hernias, he instructs me to
lean over the examination table with my elbows resting on its top. Then, I
am ordered into a slightly squatting position and I'm aware that my ass is
stretched open for his gloved finger. But before that, the Vet examines my
anus and perineum for haemorrhoids or rashes. Establishing that all is
well, I feel the cold stickiness as a lubricant is smeared around my anus.

Experience over the years tells me that I should just relax to make entry
into my rectum easier. But defensively, my sphincter closes and tightens
itself as protection against The Vet's invading finger.

The lubricant helps and the finger slips easily through my asshole and into
my rectum where it palpates my insides. As always there is that pleasurable
feeling as my prostate is found, examined and stimulated.

My examination now reaches its climax as the Vet orders me up onto the
examination table and to assume the 'all fours' position. He asks the nurse
to take my temperature and to 'milk' me. I wait with my head bowed as the
nurse uses a rectal thermometer to take my temperature. I feel its
intrusion as the nurse allows time for my temperature to register and when
she withdraws it, I experience the emptiness that one always feels after
his ass has been penetrated and the intruding object has been withdrawn.

The nurse places a surgical dish beneath my cock and begins to 'milk'
me. It takes five minutes of masturbation before I ejaculate into the
dish. During those five minutes, I feel the utter humiliation of my
condition. This is just one more example of my lowly status and it
re-enforces the superiority of the Black Race over whites. This Black
Mistress 'milks' me with no regard to my manhood. Indeed, she wouldn't even
consider that I am a man. And who can blame her. In her eyes how can a
white slave ever be considered as a man? Dispassionately, she treats me as
the animal that I am.

The nurse hands the dish holding my semen to the Vet for
assessment. Obviously, it pleases him and he comments favourably to Master
about its quantity and quality. Then he hands the dish to Master to inspect
his slave's cum.

All that remains now is for the nurse to take some blood and urine
samples. After drawing several vials of blood, the nurse hands me a
container and orders me to "pee". Even here, I'm not afforded any privacy
or allowed any dignity. I must piss in front of my Black Superiors.

One would think I should be used to this. At home when I use the bathroom -
and I must ask Master's permission to do so - I am forbidden to ever close
the door. So my bodily functions are done in the knowledge that nothing I
do is ever hidden from Master's sight.

Even when I am working outdoors, I can't waste time by retiring to a
bathroom. I just piss as I work.

As the nurse takes my urine sample from me, she compliments Master and
tells him that it's a pleasure to work on such an obedient, well-trained
and docile slave.

My heart is full of gratitude to her for her comments. By my good
behaviour, I have brought credit and honor to my Master. I am proud that
Master's training of me reflects well on him. A slave can hope for no
greater compliment than to hear his Master praised for his slave's good
behaviour.  I am overwhelmed.

My annual check-up is finished and the Vet tells Master that I am in fine
shape and good health. He tells Master that he will be in touch when he
receives the results of my blood tests.

He accompanies Master out to the reception desk and they stand and talk for
a few more minutes. I assume the display position and wait on my Master. As
I wait, I'm acutely aware that I am under the scrutiny of the young Black
Mistress who works as the Vet's receptionist. I lower my eyes respectfully
to the floor under her steady gaze.

The Vet takes his leave of Master and as I follow Master into the closet, I
hear him call for the young Master and his pale, complexioned slave.

Master orders me to dress quickly and we leave the clinic for the drive
back to Master's home.

In the car, Master tells me of his plans for projects around his home and
grounds that I'm to work on over summer. From what Master tells me, my
summer promises to be very busy.

Master also tells he is pleased with the results of my examination. He
tells me his is pleased that I have not gained weight and that my waistline
is still a trim thirty-four inches. He is also pleased with my copious
ejaculation. He tells me how pleasing it is to see that my cum isn't thin
and watery but thick and sweet-smelling.

I revel in my Master's praise of me!

Then he tells me how proud he is of his nephew, Sir Jon and of his new
found acceptance of Black Rule. He tells me that he has high hopes for Sir
Jon now that he is at College.

I listen intently to all that Master has to say about his much loved
nephew.  I think back to Sir Jon's eighteenth birthday when he was told of
my true status as a white slave to his uncle. Since then I too have watched
with pride as Sir Jon accepts his birth right as a member of the superior
Black Race. He is in every sense a Black Superior and, in recent times, I
have had reason to fear him.

Recently, his father, Sir Lachlan acquired his own white slave who he has
named Jem. And I am sure that Sir Jon's long summer break from College will
allow him to hone his Master's skills on Jem.


End.