CHAPTER ONE

 

It is not surprising that, since she was quite unused to hard physical work, Lady Susan Melbury should end up in a state of semi-collapse after a morning engaged on 'domestic duties', allocated to her by Miriam Vogel, the Slave Mistress of Bella Vista. Nor is it surprising, in view of her breeding and background, that when Susan was suddenly roused from her stupor-fatigue by a stinging slap on her bare bottom from Musad, the big, dusky assistant overseer, something within her snapped.

She had flung herself upon the brute, spitting and clawing.

Musad was delighted by his charge's instinctive reaction. It was not unexpected. New slaves quite often lost control despite the dire threat of severe punishment hanging over them if they did so. Newcomers, unused to such demeaning degradations and harsh physical exertions, simply could not help themselves. Could they be blamed? Surely not, especially if they were of Lady Susan Melbury's temperament. However, it was very foolish of any slave to defy Miriam Vogel's orders, whatever the circumstances; and it has to be said that no slave at Bella Vista did so for any great length of time.

Quickly subduing the struggling Susan, Musad contented himself by giving this maturely curvaceous 28 year old woman a sound spanking. It was most exhilarating for him to know that the person gasping and squirming over his thighs was a real English Lady. At least, she had been until she became one of Kaspar Montolive's select bevy of slaves. Not many blacks have had this kind of privilege, Musad reflected, as he watched the sumptuous, juddering buttocks changing from pink to red.

"Oh... oh... stop... oowww... aaaaahhhh... oohhh... stop... stopp..." came the plaintive cries.

But Musad did not stop for some time. He was enjoying himself too much. When he did finally release his victim, Susan fell sobbing heart-rendingly to the tiled floor of the bathroom in which she had been working, hands clasping her tenderised flesh. Almost worse than the pain, though, was the hideously shaming knowledge that she, naked but for an absurd maids cap and apron, had been unmercifully slapped on her bottom by a nigger! She! She, Lady Melbury! It was almost too much for the mind to contemplate.

"You'll be a lot more tender tomorrow, White Miss," said Musad, grinning.

Susan's sobs checked. The terror lancing into her belly was like icicles. The folly of her action, even if perfectly natural, began to fill her with panic. Somehow, Miss Vogel must not hear of what she had done. That would be too terrible. Somehow... but how? The only one who knew was the nigger in whose charge she was. Somewhere there lay the answer.

Suddenly Lady Susan Melbury knew what she must do.

She must give herself.

She must cajole... seduce... at whatever cost. In order to persuade him not to report her. Susan felt sick at the thought. Desperately, she fought down her fierce pride (so much of which still remained under the surface). She must forget what she had been. She must accept the present... and struggle for survival.

Gritting her teeth, Susan slid across the floor. She began to kiss the dark brown feet before her.

"S-sir... sir..." she said, between mouth-pressing - she had remembered overseers had to be addressed in this way. "Sir... p-please... forgive me... I... I'm new... so I... I was so shocked... it was so s-sudden... I didn't know what I was d-doing..."

Musad looked down at the dark head of hair; saw the smooth white back, the colourful buttocks, the luscious thighs. This was good. Very good. Hands clasped his calves; fulsome breasts were pressed to his shins; a head was raised to reveal a tearful, pleading face. Casually, Musad parted his thighs, hands rested on top of them. Susan came between. He wore only a brief white pouch, which was already bulging ominously.

"Sir... Sir..." came a hoarse croaking whisper. "D-do... what you wish with me... but... but don't report me... oohhh... p-please Sir t-take me... Sir... anything... but don't report me..."

Then Musad found Susan's mouth pressing to the thin covering of his pouch. Yes... this was good. Very good. It was a pity, he reflected, that he was not permitted to fuck this beauty. He could only do so on direct orders from her Master, who had to be obeyed. He was not even permitted to let her suck him without an order. Yes, it was a great shame. All he was allowed to do, was slap her, fondle and play around with her.

All the same, he could have some fun.

"What do you mean, Susie?" he enquired.

"Y-you know... you know..." wailed Susan. Oh the utter degradation!

"No I don't", replied Musad.

Susan gulped. "I'll suck you... Sir... if you wish..." she said, with a sort of desperation.

"Will you indeed?" smiled Musad. Deftly he removed his pouch. He was virtually in full erection. "I must admit it is a very nice cock for a young lady to suck." He paused. "But you are not going to be permitted to do so."

Susan's features crumpled. It was incredible that, having descended to such depths she should be refused! Could a woman's pride be more deeply wounded?

"However, you may kiss the knob of it," continued Kaspar. "Just once!"

Susan sobbed. Oh the humiliation! Then soft, pink lips came forward... and kissed. Just once. Again that look of desperation.

"T-take me... then... Sir... take me... please... Sir... please..." Incredible... incredible that she was asking this vile monster!

"Take?" queried Musad. "I do not understand you, Susie."

"Yes... yes... Sir... yes... you... d-do..."

"No, Susie. You must make the matter more clear."

Susan shuddered. "Fuck me... Sir... fuck me... but d-don't report me..." she choked out.

"Ahh..." smiled Musad. "Now I understand. The English Lady wishes to be fucked by a well-hung wog, does she? Likes black meat, does she?"

"Y-yes... yes... Sir... fuck me if you wish..." In those moments, Susan would have said anything, done anything. In fact, was doing so!

Musad appeared to be considering. The whole incident really was most enjoyable even if he was not going to be able to take advantage of the offers. In due time... the time would come, of course.

"Turn round... get your aristocratic arse in the air and I'll consider the matter," said the Algerian, after a prolonged pause.

More sobs burst from Susan, but she made herself obey the obscene command. Somehow Musad had to be persuaded.

"Open your thighs!"

Susan did so. A long silence ensued whilst Musad contemplated the succulent, depilated delights which would one day be his. This was quite some woman! Susan continued to sob. It was as if hot knives were being repeatedly jabbed into her most intimate secrets. Surely... surely... this lecherous beast could not resist, now that she was so immodestly presented for him?

"No..." drawled Musad, after another prolonged pause. "I don't think I fancy you!"

A shrieking wail came from Susan. How could she be so spurned? How could she? After all she had put herself through. It was beyond belief! Despairingly, she flung herself round, panic filling her anew.

"I beg you... I beg you!" she cried out in anguish.

Musad smiled contentedly. It was nice to be begged to, particularly by such a woman.

Slowly he shook his head.

"I am afraid I shall have to disappoint you, Susie. Not this time. Definitely not."

Once more Susan was clasping the brown limbs.

"Mercy... have mercy... don't report me... oh God... NOO... OOOOO... DON'T... DON'T... I BESEEEEECCCHHH YOU!"

Casually Musad kicked her off.

"You will be reported, slave; and you will not enjoy the consequences."

 

***

 

To say the least, Lady Susan Melbury did not look very elegant. She hung inverted from a beam which traversed the Training Room, her ankles being held by leathern cuffs attached to short chains. Her wrists were also held by leathern cuffs, and these were fastened to a leathern collar she wore. She was stark naked, and her long limbs were wide-splayed... a situation which was not only painfully uncomfortable and frightening, but exceedingly undignified.

However, it has to be said that Susan was not at that moment particularly concerned with her lack of dignity. Her mind and being were filled with terror - literally quivering with it, it seemed - in the knowledge that she would soon be mercilessly flogged.

Susan had hung thus for a quarter of an hour, the muscles in her thighs and calves straining agonisingly, and she would continue to hang there for a further quarter of an hour.

She hung alone in a room of horror...

Waiting, waiting...

Faced with the inevitable...

Wishing she could die...

It had all begun the previous afternoon, when Musad had taken her before Miriam Vogel.

 

***

 

"She attacked me, Miss," the Algerian said simply.

Hands on head, Susan knelt before Miss Vogel's desk. There was no longer a semblance of the 'proud Lady' about her. She was a cringing, whimpering slave, tearful eyes dilating with horror.

I... I didn't mean it... I d-didn't..." she cried out. "Oooooh... can't you u-under... u-under... stand?"

"Silence!" rasped Miriam, eyes as hard as cold steel. "All I do understand, slave, is that this is a most serious offence. Give me the details, Musad."

The husky dusky-skinned brute proceeded to do so... relating how he had found 'Susie lying idle' in a bathroom... and how, when, quite rightly, he had slapped her bottom and reprimanded her, she had flown at him, spitting and clawing.

"I... I couldn't help it... I didn't m-mean to..." came a whisper from Susan.

"SILENCE!" bellowed Miriam again. "If I hear another word from you, I'll start by giving you a caning here and now!"

Susan's breasts heaved, she had no control over her mouth, and tears flowed. She was lost. There was no hope for her.

"Later," continued Musad, "she tried to bribe me with her body. Tried to persuade me not to report her."

Miriam's eyebrows went up, her lips curled, and she gave a contemptuous snort. "Disgusting!" she pronounced. "But, obviously, you were not to be bribed, Musad?"

"No, Miss, certainly not!"

Miriam nodded approvingly, and, getting up from her desk, came around to stand before Susan and grip her by her lustrous dark hair. She looked down at the petrified, quivering features.

"Not only disgusting, slave, but insulting!"

Susan shook her head in abysmal disbelief. How was it she was 'disgusting' and 'insulting'? The world was upside down!

"For," continued Miriam icily, "you offered something you no longer possess. It is your Master who now owns your body. Your tits, your cunt, your arsehole... they are now all his. So, by offering them without his orders, you insulted him!"

Susan continued to shake her head in disbelief. How could such things be said? Surely, they could not be really meant!

"Didn't you?" Miriam's palm smacked across Susan's left cheek. Then the back of her palm fell across the right cheek. "Didn't you?"

In a mental turmoil, head ringing, Susan was slow to answer.

SMACK! SMACK!

"Didn't you?" The voice was relentless.

"A-aah... y-y-aah... eesss... y-yes... ss... M-Miss..."

"Say it!"

SMACK! SMACK!

"Aaaaahhhh... oooohhhh... I... I... aah... in... insulted... uuurrf... uuurrf... m-my... M-Master..."

"How, slave?"

SMACK! SMACK!

"Oooohhhh... oohhh... b-by... o-offer... offering... m-my... b-body..."

"Correct, slave!" She said, releasing her victim's hair.

Susan slumped, sobbing heart-rendingly to the floor.

"Up! Up!!" yelled Miriam, "or you'll feel my cane!"

The threat lent Susan the will and strength to kneel erect and place her hands back on top of her head. Tears and saliva were now dropping on to shuddering breasts. Her head was a cauldron of shock and horror. Sometimes Miriam Vogel seemed near, sometimes far away.

"That will be taken into account when you are punished for attacking Musad," said Miriam, reseating herself at her desk. "Take her away now, please. I shall give my decision in the morning. Chain her up in a cell for the night, Musad."

"Sure, Miss!" The Algerian crooked a finger at Susan, but the sobbing, kneeling figure seemed unable to rise. Unceremoniously, Musad took a grip of Susan's thick head of hair and dragged her screaming and kicking from the room.

 

***

 

It was a nightmare for Susan. One of achingly cold stone and heavy iron chains... appalling enough for the roughest peasant to endure, let alone a 'lady of quality'. She slept but fitfully, and very times she woke, the hideous horror of the day to follow, flapped in upon her consciousness with vulture wings.

"Help me... help me..." she would moan weakly. But whom was the plea addressed to? The Lord above? The Lord who had been her husband? The Lord who was now her Master? Whoever her words were addressed too, they were not answered. Susan remained for hour after hour chained naked and completely helpless.

"How can this be happening to me... to me... oh to me..." she would whimper. "Oh... oh... it can't be true... it can't be!"

Yet it was true!

Ultimately, there could be no escaping the facts of the situation. For one minor act of folly... a legitimate display of her perfectly natural arrogance... and why, oh why, should she not be arrogant as far as those over-weaning wealthy wogs were concerned.... for she was a Lady, a real lady... and they were just parvenu... for that... for simply that... she had somehow been confined to an unimaginably horrific Hell-on-Earth! OHHHHH... OOOOOHHHHHHHH .. IT WAS SO UNJUST!

And they were going to flog her. Just as Barbarians and Romans had flogged their common slaves. For what? For what? Simply because she had instinctively reacted as any decent, normal woman would have done. What woman - of any class - would not have reacted as she had done when her bottom had been slapped by a filthy nigger? Simply because she was lying down in a state of semi-exhaustion? It was natural... yes... perfectly natural... that she had reacted as she had.

She would do it again...

Wouldn't she?

Surely she would!

Lady Susan Melbury wept bitterly. Perhaps... oh dear God... perhaps... perhaps... if she had known what was going to happen to her... perhaps...perhaps... she had to admit it... though it was unbearable to do so... perhaps she would have stopped herself reacting like that.

And that... oh that... was the cruellest, bitterest part of it all!

"H-help me... mmmffff... mmmf... h-help me..."

No one answered.

"Strike me dead... NOW!"

No one did.

Susan sobbed and sobbed. It was pitiful enough to have softened stone. Yet the stone beneath her naked body yielded nothing.