Still, he had reason to believe Dunbar might go along with his plan as a personal favor regardless of his flimsy grounds. The childless man had always treated Derek with special consideration, and Derek responded with fondness, despite the overseer’s intimidating appearance. With a stocky build, a full head of flowing gray hair, and piercing blue eyes under white eyebrows set in a ruddy face fringed by long white sideburns that gave him the look of a stern clergyman out of the 19th century, Dunbar probably left the slaves trembling at his wrath. But to Derek he was all smiles and kindness. For example, when there was to be a whipping, he would go out of his way to schedule the event well after Derek’s daily session with the tutor was concluded so he could attend and enjoy the proceedings. Derek felt closer to him than he did to his own father.

“Good morning, Master Derek.” The overseer startled him out of his musings before he could fully develop his case to his satisfaction. He would have to play it by ear. “Oh my, what happened to your eye? That’s quite a shiner you’ve got there.”

“It’s nothing, really. I stumbled over my slippers last night in the dark and hit my head on the bedpost. It looks worse than it feels.”

Dunbar shook his head and took a seat at the table. “You really ought to be more careful. But I know how boys are. You all think you’re invulnerable. I just left one at the infirmary who’d fallen off a hay wagon while horsing around.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.”

“The vet says it’s only a sprained thumb,” said Dunbar. He gestured across the broad expanse of lawn and gardens sloping below them to the former wheat field. “I wouldn’t be surprised to see the patient out playing soccer this afternoon. The good thing about boys is they’re resilient.”

The attending slave took their requests. Dunbar ordered a full breakfast of poached eggs, sausages, bacon, beans, and mushrooms, with coffee. Derek, feeling queasy, settled for cinnamon toast and a glass of chocolate milk. Dunbar lit a cigarette while they waited. Derek marveled at the man’s cool demeanor. He felt overheated and sweaty wearing shorts and a t-shirt, while the overseer looked perfectly comfortable in his year-round attire of brown plaid woolen trousers and vest over a long-sleeved white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

But then, Derek had something urgently pressing on his mind, and he didn’t have a clue how to approach the subject.

Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “I’m glad you were able to join me this morning.”

Dunbar smiled warmly. “Oh, it’s my pleasure. I always have time for my favorite boy in the whole world. I do hope you’re having a good summer.”

“Yeah, it’s been ok. I watched the boys playing soccer yesterday and they really seemed to enjoy themselves, so that was fun.”

“The boys do love their soccer. I must say they’re as fine a crew as we’ve had. They finished off the field this year in record time, so I’ve indulged them with extra hours of play. They deserve it.”

“Yeah, well, uh, when I was watching the boys yesterday, I got to thinking—”

Derek was interrupted by the slave who returned with their food. Dunbar flicked his cigarette butt over the balustrade. He picked up his knife and fork and began to eat, slicing off a length of sausage. After chewing and swallowing it down, he pointed his knife at Derek. “You were saying?”

“Um, yeah, I got to thinking about how father wants me to have more experience in training and handling slaves and stuff and I decided I could really use a new one as my personal servant. You know, like a valet.”

“Oh, you mean someone who would make sure your slippers are properly tucked away at night.” Dunbar laughed. “I don’t see why that should be a problem. I’ll discuss it with the colonel as soon as he returns. When he gives the ok, the two of us can go out on a shopping expedition for your own personal eunuch.”

Now they were getting to the tricky part. Derek’s throat felt dry. Minutes passed, while Dunbar ate his breakfast. Derek managed to gulp down a couple of swallows of his chocolate milk. “The thing of it is, shopping for a new slave sounds like fun and all that, but my idea was that we could just take one of the field slaves,” he said, trying to sound casual.

Dunbar raised an eyebrow. “You mean use one of my boys as a house slave?” He shook his head disapprovingly. “I don’t see how that would work. You haven’t thought this through, my boy. You must understand that field slaves and house eunuchs are two different breeds. Field slaves are bred for strength and endurance, not intelligence or refinement. It would be like having a wolf as a house pet. You can’t underestimate the difficulty. The sort of training required would exhaust even my patience, and I have thirty years experience as a slave handler. Besides, the colonel would never go for it.”

“I will deal with father,” Derek said resolutely. “And cutting off their balls takes some of the wildness out of them, doesn’t it?”

Dunbar set down his knife and fork. Derek felt the man’s blue eyes drilling into him like laser beams, scanning his brain. Finally, he nodded and said, “That it does, yes. Indeed it does.”

Derek felt some deep understanding had passed between them. He sensed the man yielding to his determination. “The vet could do it right here at the infirmary, couldn’t he? It’s not like we’d have to send out for anyone or anything. And by the time father gets back, it’ll all be over and that’s that.”

“I see you *have* given this some thought.” Dunbar leaned in toward him and lowered his voice. “Personally, I’ve always felt the occasional on-site castration served a useful disciplinary function among the men and boys. ‘Tis a pity your father doesn’t see it that way. More than once, the vet has confided his disappointment that the colonel chooses to buy ready-made eunuchs off the estate. He would dearly love the chance to castrate boys, you see.”

This was going much better than Derek ever dreamed. His voice now echoed Dunbar’s conspiratorial tone. “So, do you think we could do it today?”

“I do believe the vet could find room in his schedule. Am I correct in assuming you’d like to observe the procedure?”

“Oh yes,” said Derek, huskily. His dick was fully hard now.

Dunbar leaned back on his chair. He wiped his mouth with his napkin, and laid it on the table. “Right then, all we need to do now is choose the right boy for you. Offhand I can think of two or three young lads who might serve the purpose—with the proper modification, of course. A bit cheeky, the lot of them, but fairly tame.”

“I already know which one I want.”

Dunbar lit his post-breakfast cigarette and took a puff. “Oh, is that so?”

“It’s the tall one called Tony.”

“You don’t mean Anthony?”

“Yes, Anthony, the dark-haired one, the one who supervised the harvest.”

“I’ll say this for you, Master Derek; you have a keen eye for the slave flesh.” Dunbar took another drag off his cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Anthony, hah! All of the boys idolize him, you know. He’s a natural leader. And he is quite the looker, isn’t he?” Dunbar winked at Derek. “With his nice, round ass, and well hung, too. Very well hung. A bit old for you, though, I should think. But I can certainly understand the attraction. Yes, indeed. Unfortunately, I’m afraid your Anthony is completely out of the question.”

Derek was crestfallen. “But you’ve already agreed I could choose a field slave. He’s the one that I want.”

“Trust me, almost any of the other boys would serve your needs better than Anthony. He’s been raised as breed stock, you see. You might chop off any other appendage, but the one thing, or more precisely, two things a breeder needs are his balls. His bloodlines are excellent. We’ve scheduled his first mating for a few weeks from now. He’s to be our prize stud. In fact, we plan to enter him in the county fair next month, and I will be right gobsmacked if he doesn’t take the blue ribbon in his class. In my opinion, speaking professionally, you won’t find a more promising 18-year-old stud slave in the entire Kingdom of Nebraska.

“So, the short of it is, Anthony is unavailable for your purposes. Forget about him, and come down me with me to the bunkhouse, and we’ll see which other boy catches your fancy.”

“I don’t want any other boy!” Whether from tension, frustration, or stomach upset, Derek suddenly lost control of his emotions, as if he were four years old and about to throw a tantrum. He began to cry.

“Aw, come here, son. Come to Uncle Oliver. Come sit on my lap like you did when you were little.”

Now Derek really did feel four years old. He did as he was told. He got up and walked around the table to sit on the overseer’s lap. He sniffled as the man stroked his hair.

Dunbar took his chin in his hand and turned it toward himself. He gazed into Derek’s eyes with his mind-probing laser beams.

“This is personal, isn’t it? Be truthful now.”

Derek slowly nodded.

“Something happened between you and Anthony? Which led to a fight perhaps?”

Derek nodded again.

“You don’t think cutting off a boy’s balls is a bit of an extreme punishment for getting hit in the face?”

“B-but he disrespected me! I…I had him up in my room, and then I was afraid father would find out about it, and I would be disgraced and he would hate me even more than he does already…”

Dunbar hugged him tightly and patted his back. “There, there, my boy, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

“But you know how father is! You won’t tell him, will you?” asked Derek anxiously.

“Everything between us is confidential. Trust me, your father will never hear of it. Your Uncle Oliver will always protect you.”

“Really? Even if I did something bad and…dirty?”

“We have much more in common than you knew, dear boy. The colonel is an old-fashioned man of rigid opinions. He will never change. But as long as things appear to run smoothly, he is satisfied, and he will not probe too deeply. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I think so.”

“That’s my boy.” Dunbar placed a hand on Derek’s bare leg and gently stroked up and down, pushing his shorts upwards, and going so far as to brush his crotch with the back of his hand from time to time. “Now, what are we going to do about this uppity slave Anthony? He’s becoming rather too full of himself, I daresay.”

“Will you have him whipped?”

“Well, it surely sounds like he deserves it, but we can’t risk any scarring so close to the fair. The judges deduct points for that, you see. I believe he is due for some sexual hygiene procedures, though. You can have your revenge and put him in his place by carrying them out for us.”

“I don’t know what ‘sexual hygiene procedures’ are.”

“I think you’ll find them quite enjoyable. I will send Anthony up to your room with the equipment. He will tell you what it’s used for, and he will obey your commands, if he knows what is good for him.”

“And father will never hear of it?”

“My lips are sealed, and so will be Anthony’s. The house slaves are your responsibility, but from my understanding they are devoted to you, so that shouldn’t be a problem. Now, give your Uncle Oliver a kiss.”

Derek was so relieved by their surprising conversation he allowed the man to probe his mouth with his tongue, and even reciprocated while the man fondled his penis through his shorts.

Eventually they released their embrace and Derek stood up. Dunbar pulled the pocket watch out of his vest pocket. “Ok, then. Why don’t you prepare to administer the slave’s punishment in say, half an hour?”

He patted Derek on the butt. “Now, off you go, dear boy.”

Dunbar rose, and in parting said, “Who knows, the slave is untested, and he could turn out to be a bust as a stud. One day you might even get to see your Anthony lose his balls.”

“That would be swell! Thanks, Uncle Oliver.”