Our Happy Slave (4/?) {Redman} {MF md Rom}
(c) October 2000
Authors Note: I would be interested in any comments or
corrections that readers might care to share with me.
I can be reached at redman@seductive.com.
Also, this work is not intended to be read by minors.
If you are not legally an adult in your country or
culture, please do not read it. This is a work
of fiction. Everything in it is a product of my own
imagination and does not represent the way that anyone
of any age should be treated or to represent a norm of
acceptable behavior.
Our Happy Slave 4/?
I woke up in the early morning hours on Saturday when
Connie, our pretty little slave, began gnashing her
teeth. Now normally this would not have awakened me,
but the little minx had fallen asleep with my limp
cock between her lips. For those that have never
experienced the sensation, let me assure you that a
nip on the head of you penis will definitely wake you
up quicker than an alarm clock.
Having determined by feel that I still possessed all
that I was born with, I lay back and tried to go back
to sleep. But, my bladder was uncomfortably full. Plus
my mouth tasted like last night's funk. So, I
extricated myself from between my two women and went
to shake hands with the president.
As I was brushing my teeth I felt two pointed little
breast spear me from behind as the little nipper gave
me a hug. She groaned once when she put her head on my
shoulder and again when she plopped ungracefully on
the can and began to pee.
"What's wrong sleepy-head? I know you don't have a
hangover," I said as I tousled her hair. Having grown
up with an alcoholic and father, Connie never
touched the stuff.
"My neck hurts," said Grumpy. "I think I slept on it
wrong."
"Stand up here and let me look at you," I said as I
drug her up, leaning her against the counter. I could
tell with a gentle touch that her neck and shoulders
were knotted, particularly on the left side. Nothing I
couldn't work out, though it might take a little time.
I swatted her playfully on the ass (Why? Because it
was there!) and told her, "Go lay on the table. I need
to get an iron to get those wrinkles out." Even as she
walked away flatfooted, rubbing her neck, I noticed
that her bottom had a pretty little bounce. Perhaps it
was because I had fucked it so well the night before.
She bitched and moaned as I began to break the knots
down, but very soon she was putty in my experienced
hands. By that time it was getting closer to the time
we would have normally woken, so I went ahead and gave
her the deluxe treatment while I had her completely at
my disposal. I oiled her from head to toe and pampered
her, rubbing away every possible concern.
While my strong hands worked on her limp form, my mind
wandered. I know you are suppose to concentrate fully
on the partner you are massaging, but it was still
early and she felt so ripe beneath my hands. I thought
about all the people who would have never been able to
understand a relationship like ours.
Our society would never openly condone the notion of
slavery and certainly not the flavor we were
exercising. Slavery was synonymous in most people's
minds with brutality and abuse. Connie had suffered
these things before she ever came to us, but we would
never raise our hand against her - never had and never
would. Most people's concepts of slavery could only
embrace the master being massaged by the slave, never
the slave being lovingly pampered by the master.
So, what was different in what we practiced? When
Connie had come into our lives she was a pretty - if
bedraggled - girl. The of two animals,
she had another to escape. The second
hell was as bad as the first, except for the fact that
she resided next door to us. After my had
befriended her, I took matters into my own hands and
sent number three scurrying away, his tail
between his legs.
She had no skills, no home, no decent family, no
friends, no education, no prospects, no hope and no
chance. She was a stray that my took in from
the cold.
But, in the safety and security of our home she had
blossomed into a beautiful woman. Her
personality began to shine and she proved to have an
agile mind, quickly absorbing everything I gave her
that was presented in an appropriate order. She was
becoming an excellent cook and was very close to
managing all the little details of our household. She
had a flare for languages and music. She could
memorize even lengthy narratives with much less
trouble than I had ever mastered. In short, she was
become a well-rounded, delightful lady.
Oh, and the best part, she was also beginning to trust
people for the first time. She had an unmistakable
submissive bent and loved to serve us. She loved to
cuddle and enjoyed human contact. And her libido -
amazing. It had infected and invigorated both my
and I and her considerable charms had proven
themselves to be irresistible to the both of us.
I'm sure there are despicable people who, under the
veil of slavery, seek to brutalize and inflict as much
damage as they can. This was not what was practiced in
our home and never would be. In return for a voluntary
exchange for some of her freedom, our slave received
protection, security and love. Her prior freedom had
enslaved her to brutes and tyrants. Her current
bondage was freely given and enslaved her to people
who love her and to whom she is precious.
As I began to focus again on the luscious flesh under
my fingers, I couldn't help but think, "She is our
greyhound, our thoroughbred. A sleek, fine,
animal ready to run. She is the glue that binds us
closer together - that makes us better than we were
before."
I began to caress her back and arms lovingly,
tenderly. I tried to imagine my love for her flowing
out from my arms, through my hands and into her soft,
radiant flesh. I felt a returning vibration start deep
within her core and saw the muscles on her bottom
tighten, grinding her furry matte into the
padding of the table. Her entire body quivered
slightly, like a bowl of gelatin struck with the flat
of a spoon.
I laid my hand on Connie's back and squatted down to
eye level, close enough to smell her hurried breaths.
Her face was flushed; her eyes squenched tight and she
had the look of a guilty child caught stealing candy.
She was biting her lower lip hard and I could see her
eyes darting back and forth behind her clenched lids.
As she slowly relaxed again, I think she suddenly
realized that I had stopped the massage some time ago
and her eyes flew open. When she saw me staring into
her face, she blushed deep and hard, like a virgin.
"What just happened, little one? Did you just cum?" I
whispered wonderingly. I knew that I had been
profoundly affected by her spontaneous demonstration
of passion.
"I know I'm not supposed to - I know you weren't
touching me that way. But it felt so good. I couldn't
help myself, really I couldn't!" she pleaded.
I was so overcome by this creature that I game her a
sign to roll over and as she did, delightfully, I drug
her to the end of the table. If the table would have
born both our weights, I would not have been able to
resist even that long. I had to mount her quickly. As
I drew her ankles up to my shoulders, my hard,
throbbing cock penetrated her wet smoothly and
completely in one stroke. It was as though she had
been created just to fuck me right here, right now, on
this table.
She had enflamed me so much that I couldn't contain
myself. I bucked up against her powerfully, using
long, hard strokes. She began to again on the
third or fourth stroke and she started convulsing into
a series of rolling, aching orgasms. Her was
squeezing and throbbing along my cock so hard I felt
my feet vibrating on the floor. Our crotches came
together like cymbals, crashing in great pulsating
waves. The bed was rocking with the violence of our
thrusting, her hips struggling to meet mine ever
higher and more forcefully.
When I couldn't stand it any more, I pulled her hard
against me and buried my prick deep into her, slaying
her with my sword. I squirted my as far up her
belly as my thighs could impel me. Her cervix spasmed
around the engorged head of my dick as I pumped my
essence exhaustively into her womb. It was a final,
shattering climax for us both.
I don't know how I continued to stand. When my mind
cleared, I realized that although our union had only
lasted a matter of brief minutes, the intensity had
been deeper than anything we had experienced together
before. I was taken aback by the intensity of it.
Connie's eyes were large and loving. I stroked her
flanks and whispered my love to her, telling her she
was a fine and lovely slave.
"Jesus Christ, y'all are loud in there, " my
yelled from the adjoining room. Connie and I laughed
softly, our eyes lingering over each other.
"If your finished schtupping the help, I could use a
little breakfast here," she lamented loudly.
My sweet little slave got a saucy, teasing look in her
eye. She squeezed the muscles in her tight and
expelled my shriveling dick like it was a watermelon
seed. The last I saw her, she was scampering toward
the kitchen with her hands grasping between her legs,
holding my sperm inside.
"Why do we keep a slave if I can't get a good Belgian
waffle out of the deal" my bride exclaimed.
I wondered if she would go on like this until her
plate was served. Then I wonder, with a bit of a
swagger, if she's like some pork sausage with her
waffles. I begin to stiffen as I walked in to her.
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