by Damien Dsoul
Catherine was speechless and couldn’t think of what to say to this. She didn’t wish for a repeat performance of yesterday and hoped that would serve as the last time she ever gets caught in such a situation.
“Have you learnt your less, bitch-slave Caya?”
“Pardon?”
“Your roommate probably told you that already so quit with the dumbness, bitch, or you’ll have some extra punishment coming. You’re Catherine no more. From now on, your new name is Caya. It will be your slave name and the only name you will adhere to from now on. Failure to recognise it ... and you’ll live the next month in hell. Is that clear, slave-bitch?”
It was indeed clear to Catherine now known as Caya.
There wasn’t much else she had to say to Catherine that hadn’t been mentioned to her already. All that remained was a few spots that required some filling in, which was what Margot did:
“Morning rise begins everyday at 5:30a.m., with every bitch-slave congregating at the black church for thirty minutes of worship and praise sermon. After that is an hour of tutorial lesson program where all young and recently arrived slaves are meant to visit to listen and imbibe further teachings into African history and Black Master-Mistress service. You will attend and it will be expected of you to take notes. There will be a monthly exam and test programs to certify how well you’ve progressed. There is the duty rooster assignment board at the side of the slaves building where your duty for the day will be stated. You will be assigned a black Master who will further ensure your training program and it will be his duty to fuck you and breed you as much as he wants, or should he desire, to loan you out to other black Masters around to take ownership of you and your body. You will wash your pussy and anal hole rigorously everyday when you shower and shave periodically, and you will as well keep record of your cycle and declare on the board when you’re due for impregnation. Failure to attend to this matter will resolve in serious demerit as well as punishment to you.”
Catherine raised a furtive hand. “Does that mean I might get pregnant?”
Margot grinned at her like an evil witch would. “Well of course, mein lieber. You will be made pregnant by your Master, or any of the other Black Masters around should they decide to contest over you. You will as well be given a supplement of Comid to enhance your egg production. Any bitch-slut who gives birth to twins or triplets is awarded a high score on her personality sheet.”
Catherine looked at her thinking she was joking, but the sneering look coming from Margot told her this was no joke. She had spent two nights here already and should have gotten used to her predicament, yet it looked to her like that was going to take a while. She had never dabbled in drugs before, although back in college she knew and had heard stories of so-and-so girl who’d gotten wasted taking ecstasy at some club party. This was getting to be quite like that.
“I’m to emphasize this to you, in case it’s still getting hazy to let it into that skull brain of yours: You’re never to make a repeat performance of your actions yesterday. There’s more slave-bitches coming in here and that means more headache getting them in line, and that means more problem for me. Don’t make me be your problem, Caya. Now get out.”
Catherine got up to leave but stopped at the door. She turned to face the head-bitch.
“Just one question. The babies, whatever happens to them after birth?”
“That’s a question only the Black Mistress can answer, not me. Now go.”
And just like that, her life as Catherine, pretty college girl from Buffalo, New York, came to a concluding end.
***
Black Master Amos was assigned to be her Master. Caya cringed when she saw his name next to hers on the assignment board and the thought of coming face to face with her lasher of yesterday made her afraid. She was to report at his apartment at the Master’s Quarters building after she was done with her work for the day - cleaning the pig pen.
Someone pointed her the direction and she hurried down there. She shared the assignment with two other bitch-slaves. One was an Asian called Ant, the other a French woman in her mid-twenties called Virgo. Each picked up a bucket and mop and an assortment of rags and went in the direction of the pig pen. Even as they neared it they could perceive the atrocious smell coming from there. The pen was empty and that was a relief to Caya as she and the girls got to work.
They made conversation while they sweated as they mopped and fetched water from a nearby tap to wet the floor with. Ant had shared a similar fate as Caya, except she’d been taken from the hotel she’d lodged at in Ghana; she had been with her fiancé. She couldn’t recall how long ago that was - he’d found himself another girl by now, she muttered without shame or discontent as she worked. Virgo had been married before she got here. Her husband had worked as a technical staff or something like that for a multinational French company. They had gone for a boat ride but had been captured by a group of militants who’d fired upon their boat. No, her husband hadn’t died. He too was a slave just like her, but each now content in their current position. Both women shared their proclivities with Caya with such calm pleasure it was like they were on holiday. Virgo talked about how the Lord Master of the plantation had fucked her in front of her husband during their first month of been here. Her husband had been acting rebellious and it hadn’t taken much effort for him to be put in his place. The Lord Master had even assigned one of the black Masters to fuck her husband and she too had watched. When he’d finished she’d gone and cleaned the Master’s cock.
Several black Masters came by periodically to check on their work. Other bitch-slaves strolled past them and waved. Caya enquired if anyone had ever escaped out of the camp and gotten away free. Ant answered the question.
“Few have tried, but neither got away clean. Personally I wouldn’t tell you to think about it.”
“You ought not to,” said Virgo. “Don’t worry. In time, you will love being here. We both do.”
***
It was almost noon when they were finished with their assignment. A loud bell clanged out - it was time for lunch. The girls cleaned out their work tools and buckets and returned to from where they’d gotten them in the work shed and went in the direction of the slaves canteen to have their meal.
The canteen was a big room divided in two. One section catered to the bitch-slaves and the other to the white bois slaves; a bulletproof glass partition separated them. Caya stood in line carrying her food tray along and got her own bit of meal and spotted Shawana and went to sit with her; Mika was there next to Shawana.
“Hey bitch, you done anything stupid today?” Mika rounded on her just as Caya set her tray on the table.
“Cut it out, Mika. Give her some slack - it was her first day.”
“First day, first mistake, I don’t care,” she retorted. “As long as she don’t make a second.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” said Caya.
Done with her meal, she went in the direction of where the black Master’s quarters was situated - a double-building structure that looked like an army barracks building at the east side of the main building. She passed several black men on the way and submissively greeted them as she went along. She entered the building and read out the names of the black Masters stencilled on the doors before stopping at that which said: Master Amos. She knocked on the door and heard a voice inside tell her to come in. She opened the door and stepped inside.
Master Amos sat on a chair by the table next to the window in his living room. He wore nothing except a pair of combat pants and an ivory tooth which hung from a chain around his neck. He was smoking a cheroot cigarette when Caya entered his apartment. She bowed her head to him.
“Bitch-slave Caya reporting to her assigned Master, sir,” she stated. Her friend Shawana had instructed her on what to say the night before when reporting to her master.
“Come here, s
lave,” said Master Amos. “Come kneel before your Master.”
She went forward and knelt before him, placing her hands on her thighs. He went on smoking his cigarette, taking his time about it.
“Did you learn your lesson of the night before, bitch-slave?” he asked her.
She nodded. “Yes, Master, I did.”
“You’re still having doubts, aren’t you. You still harbour thoughts of leaving this camp and returning to your former life, eh? Go ahead, tell me.”
Caya shook her head. “I have no doubts, Master.”
“We will see. But first, I want to test your oral skills.” Master Amos got up from his chair and stood with his crotch a foot from her face, gazing down at her magnanimously. “Do what needs to be done, slave.”
Caya’s hands undid his belt buckle and the top buttons of his combat pants. There was a tent growing inside his pants, pushing outward against the fabric; she inhaled the strong scent of his crotch as she unzipped his pants and his black monster cock fell out of it; it was the shape of a ripe banana. Caya gasped at its sight. She took it in both hands, weighted it on her palm, felt the throbbing pressure as blood inflated the mushroom tip head. Pre-cum oozed out its tiny slit as she stroked it.
“I want you to worship that black cock you have in your hand there,” Master Amos instructed her. “Worship it as you would worship me. Run your tongue over every inch of it. Take it into your mouth and don’t stop sucking it until I tell you to.”
Caya held his prick aimed inches from her face. She was about to do the impossible. She took in a deep breath - forgive me, Michael - opened her mouth and pushed his cock into her mouth, closing her eyes while she did. Her lips wrapped around his shaft and she took a pull from it like one would when pulling on a tea spoon, and smacked her lips when his cock came out her mouth. Feels kind of good, she thought to herself. She took another long pull at his cock, and then another ... and then she was sucking him with improvement, no longer feeling afraid.
“Open your eyes, bitch-slave!” her Master growled at her.
She didn’t realise her eyes were still shut. She opened them and watched the length of his shaft slip in and out of her mouth. She recalled the image of her friend and roommate Shawana at work last night and decided to imitate her movement. She applied more force in her sucking action: she licked her tongue over every crest and ridge on his dick, spit on it to get it more lubricated and forced his cock into her mouth. Her Master though sensed she wasn’t getting it right.
“Stop doing it that way. You’re stupid, you don’t even know it. Relax your jaw muscles - don’t fight it. Pretend its ice cream you’re taking ... or a banana.”
Caya took corrections from him. Her jaw muscles were starting to ache. Master Amos pushed her off him; a look of anger etched on his face. Caya was immediately afraid that she’d offended him. She came to him and kissed his feet, pleading for him not to get angry with her. Her eyes got wet with tears.
“Please, Master. I haven’t ... done this before. I’m learning. Please, let me learn to please you.”
“You still virgin, yes? You haven’t sucked a cock before?”
“No, Master. I haven’t sucked anyone’s cock before.”
“I’ll have to bring someone in to show you then. Get up, slave. You’re excused for now.”
Caya went and kneeled at a corner and waited as he picked up an intercom phone and called for a bitch-slave to hurry over to his room. They didn’t have to wait more than three minutes before there was a knock at his door and someone outside begged to be let inside. Amos told whomever it was to come inside. The door opened and Mika, Shawana’s friend, walked into the room. She snorted when she saw Caya kneeling in the room and she too came and knelt before Master Amos and bowed her head to him.
“Slave, I want you to show this new bitch-slave here how to suck a Master’s cock,” Amos commanded. “You good for it?”
“I am always good for it, Master.”
Mika licked her tongue, ready for the challenge and reached for Amos’ cock and promptly began sucking him. She worked her lips on his shaft like a pro, sucking him with such succulent devotion and vigour. Mika turned to look at Caya and smiled at her while she went on enjoying herself. Amos steadied her head in his hands and thrust his shaft in and mouth of her mouth. Mika gurgled and spite flew off the side of her lips and still she went on taking his punishment and resumed when he gave her back his prick to worship.
“Do you see what the bitch-slave is doing?” Amos said to Caya. “You taking lessons now?”
Caya nodded her head.
“Good. Let’s see what you have learned.”
Mika moaned with disappointment as he pushed her aside and brought his cock to Caya’s face. She sucked on the tip of his prick, rolling her tongue around the mushroom head of his cock before taking him further down her throat. She too made the same choking, gurgling sounds Mika had made, took his prick in both hands and rolled it in her mouth, slobbering over its foreskin. Master Amos groaned from the workout. Mika approached them and stroked the Master’s balls and rubbed his thighs while allowing Caya the pleasure of sucking him.
She was getting the hang of it, she noticed this from listening to the groaning voice of her Master, that and the way his hands wouldn’t stop caressing her hair. Mika turned from Amos’ balls to suck on Caya’s tits. She wasn’t prepared for it and were it not that her Master was here, she might have pushed her off. But Mika wouldn’t stop sucking and nibbling on her tits. Caya was soon enjoying it, even as she felt Mika slip a finger in and out of her pussy. Caya couldn’t help not responding to her ministrations. She let her Master’s cock slip out her mouth, offering it to Mika who too sucked on it while Caya pushed down her top and now attacked her female bitch-slave’s tits, rolling her tongue over her erect nipples, murmuring a sigh to herself while she did. Caya had never made out with a woman before. In her former life such would have been considered abominable. But here things were different, and she was getting into the groove of it.
“I’m not done with your lesson, bitch-slave!”
Master Amos pulled Caya to her feet and pushed her in the direction of the other room which served as his bedroom. He opened a drawer and rummaged inside and unearthed a bottle of lube. Caya lay on the bed waiting for him; Mika knelt by the doorway itching to see what was about to happen. Master Amos extracted his feet from his pants and came up on the bed, his prick slapped against the sheets trailing wetness from both women’s lips. Caya spread her legs as he poured some lotion from the lube unto his palm and rubbed it around her crotch. She flinched as he inserted two of his fingers into her cunt and pressed on.
“Got to lube your pussy up for me,” he said as he kept on fingering her, widening her cunt lips. “Then I’m going to own it. I know you itch for the main cock, don’t you, bitch?”
“I do ... Uhhh ... I do, Master.”
Caya was unaware she was panting wildly. She looked past her breasts at her Master who was now looming over her. He rubbed the head of his prick with some of the lotion at her crotch area. He looked past his shoulder and told Mika to come forward and hold his bitch-slave down. Mika gladly left where she knelt and came to Caya’s aid.
“Don’t worry, bitch,” she cooed into her ear, kissing her. “It’s going to end quickly. The Master is going to turn you into a different slave.”
Master Amos shoved the head of his dick into her cunt’s opening, breaking through the barrier. Caya cried out sharply. The pain was intense. Her eyes tightened together. She felt Mika take hold of her hand, still murmuring into her ear: “It’s almost done ... it’s almost done.”
***
Mika escorted Caya back to the bitch-slave dormitory; she felt weak to walk alone. Shawana was waiting for them. She came at them as Mika parted the curtain and helped Caya to lie gently on a bed; she was shaking all over. Shawana ca
me and sat beside her.
“How did it go?”
“It went well,” Mika grinned. “The Master took her anal and pussy virginity.”
“Sweet!” she crackled. “I hope she begged for it. You begged for his cock didn’t you, Caya?”
She was shaking from the experience; never would have thought she would get to fucked in all three holes of hers at once. So sorry it couldn’t be you, Michael.
Shawana and Mika was still gushing over what had taken place that afternoon in Master Amos’ apartment when a loud Brrrriiinnngggg ... Brrriiinnnnngggg ... alarm sound echoed inside the dormitory. A look of alarm came on the women’s faces. There was the patter of feet scrambling out of the corridor, sounding more like a stampede with lots of bitch-slaves talking and shouting at once. Shawana and Mika both stood up and pushed aside the curtain. It was a struggle for Caya to rise to her feet.
“What the ... what’s that alarm for?” she asked Mika.
“It’s the escape alarm,” she replied excitedly. “It means someone just tried to escape. Either a bitch-slave or a white boi.”
Shawana and Mika stepped out of the room and joined the confusing scrambling in the corridor heading outside. Caya joined them.
It was early evening. The sun was halfway down from the sky, partly hidden from view by a cluster of clouds. The alarm bell was still resounding all over the compound and the bitch-slaves were scrambling towards the centre of the compound where they knew the main activity would be taking place. Caya ran into her friend Ant and together they went in the same direction. They passed several black Masters on the way, all of them cradling their automatic weapons, ready to do whatever.
The number of slaves, both white bois and bitch slaves, stood on either side, forming a near circle in the centre of the compound. The Mistress stood there her face turned towards a particular direction. Caya fought through to gaze at the same direction her was staring at and she as well as others heard the cries of a bitch-slave screaming to be let go. A cleared path was made and a spreading murmur arose amongst the crowd of gathered slaves as they watched four black Masters drag two slaves into the circle. One a bitch-slave, the other a white boi-slave, both kicking and struggling to be free. They threw both of them to the ground, stood back with their rifles cocked and loaded while Mistress Tiffany approached them; she had a black horse whip slung across her waistline like a belt. Both slaves came to their knees before her and lowered their heads. The crowd fell hush with silence as the Mistress stood before her escaped slaves.
