The Chip:  The Honky Ranch
By Sir Kinyon
edited by junior wayne

part 2

 Curtis had a friend who owned a honky that before the take over, had been an
architect. After an hour of bargaining with his friend, a deal was struck For the use of the
architect honky, Curtis would loan his friend six field honkies for two months. It seemed to
Curtis a more than acceptable trade, after all a field honky was extremely replaceable and
should less than six return, Curtis had been given a guarantee from his friend for full
monetary reimbursement of the lost livestock. Curtis had the architect honky design a not-
so-traditional ranch house, THIS house was built on the scale of a mansion. The house was
gorgeous. It stood three stories tall and mimicked an early style of American western
architecture. The ranch house was itself much too large to ever be considered just a ranch
house. It was in fact a sprawling mansion in the fashion of a sensible western ranch. The
elaborate central drive was flanked with large oaks and gave forth like a great delta into a
circular cul de sac that surrounded a fifteen foot spectacle of a statue. Behind the main
house was a great garden of paths and plantings that ran the length of two football fields.
Dotting the garden and creating a natural canopy were dozens of looming shade trees.
Meandering thru this less than modest garden was a small diverted stream that brought green to all it touched. At the center of the garden was a large open area, canopied by a network of shade arbors surrounded by beautifully landscaped hedgerows and fragrant flowers. This vast outdoor entertaining area would grow to become Curtis's favorite spot in all the ranch, but for now it was just beginning to show the promise of what it could be as dozens of naked honkies labored to trim and prune, plant and tend the ever growing garden. Behind the garden, a great expanse of timber land existed that Curtis had set aside as a game hunting area.

 Sixty-three hundred square feet, six bedrooms seven baths, a formal dining room,
living room, den, game room... This ranch house was a really huge house. Curtis had become somewhat of an environmentalist, so he wanted to have a house that would seem to blend in with nature. He considered this outlook to be a nod to his tribal ancestors who considered themselves to be one with nature. With this in mind, Curtis made sure that his house was built using only natural materials. It was all wood and natural stone. It looked like a huge log cabin...well, a log mansion. Solar panels covered every inch of roofing and three wind turbines spun in the distance. The ranch even boasted it's own water recycling facility and Curtis was proud of it's nearly 'off grid' status. The ranch house was just the main house, surrounding the mansion from all sides were other buildings necessary for the operation of a proper ranch including three modern honky stables a running track for the pony crackers and a kennel for the dogged down honkies. A facility was also in the works so Curtis could have his own veterinarian on site. The fields in which the crackers would be laboring were well out of site of the main property, but within riding distance.  With the honkys working around the clock, the house was built in record time. The two overseers that Curtis had hired were good guys. Curtis liked them, they proved to be very strict and sometimes cruel task masters, but this was fine with Curtis as long as they got the job done. The head overseer, Walford Hays, had worked in the original honky training center before it became outdated when the government turned the breeding and training of slaves over to the private sector. "Wall" as they called him, was built like just that...a wall. At 45, he stood 6'6" and easily weighed 350lbs. And it was all muscle. His skin was black like polished ebony and his large round head shone like an 8-ball.

 Whenever he and Curtis were alone together, Curtis noticed that Wall was a really
laid back guy with a quick wit and an easy smile. As soon as a honky came around though, the change in his demeanor was swift and drastic. He instantly became hard. Curtis liked that. It meant that he would take no shit from the honky. The assistant overseer, Irvin James, was almost as tall as his boss, but not nearly as big, but he too was solidly built at 270lbs. He had caramel brown skin and short curly hair. Irvin, in complete contrast to Wall, always seemed to be very sober and serious. Curtis, ever the psychologist, suspected that this serious demeanor was the outward manifestation of the nervousness of his youth. He would eventually grow out of it. Curtis had made it very easy for these two Men to decide to come and work for him on the ranch. In addition to a decent salary, each Man would have a house to live in free of charge and a slave to go with the house. This was especially appealing to Irvin because he was Married with a baby on the way.

  Running a honky ranch was easier than Curtis had ever thought. When he first started, Curtis would wake up at the crack of dawn, and within an hour, he would be out in the fields watching over the field honkys, and later in the stables making sure that the ponys were being fed and groomed. Curtis watched over the house honkys as they scurried back and forth, cleaning and making the rooms spotless. He watched the outside crackers tend the grounds, occasionally correcting one, or giving additional commands. Curtis was beginning to take great pride in the landscaping of the property and he kept a close eye on the activities of the gardening crackers, in fact, Curtis took great interest in every aspect of the day to day running of his ranch, there wasn't a single area of the huge estate that he did not visit on his daily 'rounds' of the ranch.  One particularly pleasant evening, Curtis and Wall were relaxing by the pool enjoying the cool night air. Curtis suddenly looked at his watch. "It's getting late and I have to get up early in the morning.”

 Wall put down his drink and looked quizzically at Curtis. “Why?” was all Wall
uttered in response.

 “The vet is coming to look at the ponies around noon, but I want to get up early and
meet them in the field.” Curtis said, the vision of a row of cracker ponies, lined up for
inspection, filled his thoughts for a moment.

 "I've been meaning to ask you, Curtis", Wall said between puffs on his stogie. "Why
do you get up at first light in the morning?"

 "Well," Curtis said. "It's My responsibility. I need to..."

 "That's the point" Wall hefted his huge frame into a sitting position on his patio
lounger. "You're the boss. You own this place and it is up to where it practically runs
itself. You've hired perfectly capable overseers to run both sides of the business for you."

 "But the work..." Curtis began.

 "Work?" Wall asked "What work? We don't work, the honkys do all the work all we do
is keep them on task. Hell, most of the time Irv is out there sitting under a tree drinking
lemonade, while I'm in the stable workin' the ponies. There's no work"

 Curtis furrowed his brow and took a deep breath, "Well what is it you think I should
do?"

 "Hell, relax a little, man!" Wall said. "You're just about the richest man in these
parts, shoot you definitely own more than anybody else. You need to relax a little. trust
the people you've hired and the honkys you've trained to do their jobs."

 Curtis chuckled a bit, "That's easier said than done, My friend"

 "No it ain't" Wall said matter-of-factly. "Just take it one day at a time. Starting
tomorrow. The vet isn't coming until noon. Sleep in, enjoy that hot piece of honky ass you
got prancing around that big ol' mansion"

 Curtis thought to himself, He had been putting a lot of effort into the daily
running of the Ranch, perhaps it was time to sit back, and turn on the auto pilot for a
while. Wall's words made perfects sense, and Curtis decided he was gonna do just that. It
was good to be King and now Curtis was going to behave like it.

 The next morning, because he had turned his alarm clock off the night before, Curtis
woke up at 8:30am. He was used to getting up at five every morning, so this was really
sleeping in for him. He laid there for a few minutes in his huge king-sized bed and allowed
his vision to clear. As Curtis rolled over onto his side, his sleep encrusted gaze was met
by a pair of hazel eyes looking directly into his. Poor cracker, he thought to himself, the
mutt looked confused and even a little worried. It was used to his master getting up before
dawn. Curtis knew that pets like cracker were creatures of habit and they often became
confused and unsure when something out of the ordinary happened.

 "Cracker, Piss" Curtis said authoritatively. Immediately the pup leapt into action.
Without a moment's hesitation he was up on the bed with his master's nine inch dick in his
mouth. Because Curtis' morning wood had a gentle upward curve, cracker had to position
himself in such a way so that he could get that precious meat all the way down his throat
without causing his master any discomfort. He did this by straddling his Curtis' body in
what could be mistaken for a 69 position (of course cracker's little dick never got anywhere
near his master's face). This position made it possible for cracker to easily take his
master's long thick cock into his mouth and smoothly down his throat. Seconds after the
honky had achieved the proper position, Curtis relaxed and let loose a powerful stream of piss. He loved the feeling of his piss going directly down cracker's throat. Curtis had spent a lot of time and energy training this honky to be exactly what he wanted him to be. And believe it or not, it took a lot of training to turn a honky into a proper urinal. See, any honky can be made to drink piss, but there is almost always some spillage. It took some time and quite a few severe beatings but now cracker was able to swallow fast enough to take all the piss his master (or anyone else) had to give.

 Cracker had once been a human being, although he wouldn't believe it if you told him
so. If you asked him, he would tell you that he was just a dumb honky. He would say (and
believe wholeheartedly) that he had never been human, no mother or father. No family, no
history. The only thing in his life, cracker would honestly affirm, was his Master. And more
still, that his Master was the absolute center of the universe. Making his Master happy was
his only purpose in life.

 Cracker was not only Curtis' urinal, but he was his pet pup, his personal valet, his
cum dump and his dick warmer. Anything that Curtis needed or wanted was done without
hesitation. Curtis had toyed with the idea of completely dogging down the honky. He had
considered even going so far as having the pup's vocal cords cut and his body modified to
look more like a dog. Ultimately, Curtis decided against this because he liked the fact that
the honky still looked like a man and could even interact as one when need be. When he stood erect (which he didn't do very often), cracker's full height was about 5'10, his hair was buzzed to almost nothing but it was obvious that his hair was a dark auburn and his hairline was reseeding. The honky's body was slim, but toned with a light dusting of freckles.

 One of the things that Curtis loved about this particular honky was his
lightheartedness and his natural ability to entertain. While he pissed down the honky's
throat, the position put the whitey's ass close to his face. Curtis reached up to stick his
finger into the surprisingly still tight pussy hole that was this slave's anus. Cracker
obviously liked it because he moaned a little and gave his hind end a little shake like a
dog wagging his tail.

 When Curtis was done pissing, and the honky had gotten that last little drip by
running his tongue along the piss slit, he shooed him away and the pup (on all fours, of
course), bounded off the bed and scurried over to his honky bed in the far corner. Curtis
laid there for a few more minutes. He really didn't know what to do with himself. He
stretched luxuriously in his plush bed. After a few more minutes, he swung his big feet out
of the bed, stood and sort of ambled into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

 The shower in Curtis' bedroom suite was set off from the sink and separated by a
stained glass door. While he was brushing his teeth, Curtis heard the shower come on and
knew that cracker was on his job. When he had finished brushing his teeth, Curtis entered
the shower area and found cracker on his knees holding a loofah sponge in one hand and a
bottle of shower gel in the other. As Curtis walked in and stood under the perfectly hot
water, cracker sprang into action. He applied gel to the sponge, and began to soap up his
Master's magnificent body. For his part, Curtis stood there and allowed the honky to almost
lovingly explore every inch of his body. This is good, Curtis thought to himself.  Most
mornings he is in such a hurry that he didn't take the time to enjoy the pampering that his
personal honky lavished on him. This morning, though was much different.  As the mutt
caressed his back with the sponge, Curtis could feel himself become aroused. He turned in
the shower and looked down at cracker who seemed to be totally focused on cleaning his body. Curtis had to stop himself from laughing out loud when he saw the slave's reaction to his massive erection. It was very subtle, just a slight pause and an upward glance, but he knew that the honky was surprised to see it. Curtis chuckled a bit as he brought his hand down to rest his palm on cracker's head.

 As if an unspoken signal had been given, the honky opened his mouth and waited. He
didn't have to wait long. Within seconds Curtis had plunged his big black dick balls-deep
into cracker's mouth and down his throat. To his credit, cracker swallowed the head of his
Master's dick like it was second nature. Curtis thought back to a time when the pitiful
honky actually had a gag reflex. Well now that reflex, which had been pretty strong, was a
thing of the past. It was just proof that with proper training just about anything could be
done with these honkys, and this one in particular had been well trained indeed.

 Soon, all thoughts of training, the ranch, the past and future had vanished from
Curtis' mind completely as he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the moment, enjoy the
velvet throat of this honky kneeling before him. Cracker was, without a doubt, the best
cocksucker of all the honkys on the ranch. Curtis knew this to be a fact because he had
sampled them all. He marveled at the way the mutt attacked the dick with all that was in
him. It was as if his life depended on it. Curtis looked down and watched as the water from
the shower cascaded down his own body and onto cracker's head as he went to town on this dick.

 Funny, Curtis thought to himself, less than a decade ago, this honky had been a night watchman at a museum that showcased stuffed versions animals that the white devils had driven to extinction. He had been a complete nobody. His life had been perfectly useless. Now, however, his life had purpose. Look at him down there, Curtis thought to himself, nursing on My dick like it is the most precious thing in the world. NOW his life had meaning and purpose. Soon Curtis could feel his own cock begin to grow, he knew that he was getting close. He reached down with two big black hands, covered each of the honkys ears with his palms and wrapped his long thick fingers around the back of cracker's head. Then with long, smooth motions, he began to ram his dick into the honky's mouth and down his throat, over and over again, the bitch never gagged, never tried to resist. He just put his hands down and allowed his Master to use his throat to get off. And get off Curtis did. Without warning the furious face fucking stopped and with his head held totally immobile in his master's vice-like grip, nose to bush and chin to balls, cracker felt that marvelous tool begin to pump the precious seed into his gullet.

 Once his balls were drained, Curtis was ready to start his day. He got out of the
shower, allowed the honky to dry him off, and than padded naked back into his bedroom. As he came out of the shower area, Curtis' nose caught the most heavenly scent...BREAKFAST!. And it smelled like cook (he didn't even bother giving his houshold honkies names) was making flapjacks.