"Sold. 8" ( MF Fdom nc interr slavery)

	CHAPTER 8

   The Queen had known from staring into his eyes the first time in the
cell, that the fascist leader had a real bad snake fobia. It was a gift
brought to her by her mother; the talent to tell a person´s fears by
looking into the whites of his eyes.
   Tomorrow was her daughter´s birthday. It was an excellent challenge for
the Queen to tame him with such a short notice. She would have to go to
work right away. With magnificant grace, the half-naked woman rose and
faced her subject. 

   "I still do not care much for your attitude, white man. I reached out my
royal hand, offering you the opportunity to make amends, to surrender
unconditionally to me. But all you did was exactly what I forced you to do,
not an ounce more. You stuck your filthy tongue into my black ass, not
because you desired to please your Queen, but solely because you wanted to
save your pathetic life. For the very same reason you opened your ugly
mouth and drank my golden fluid. A slave who is not prepared to do
anything, and I mean Anything, to satisfy his owner and loving every moment
of it, is a worthless piece of property. And do you know what we do with
no-good property in Africa?"
   With those words the gracious Queen spun around and walked out on him.
She twisted the harmless snakes head and killed it on her way upstairs. It
landed with a soft thud in the waste-basket. 
   In a small, elegant office on ground-level, she explained carefully how
she wanted him set up when she returned from lunch.

   Mayinka entered the suite without making any noise. The sound of her
daughter´s sobbing halted her in front of the hall mirror. She stood there
for several minutes, listening to the lovely girl´s crying, wondering what
could possibly make her feel so sad.
   As she was closing in on the half-open bedroom door, she started
smelling the familiar, sweet odour of the female sex. When she peeked in
through the opening, the smell became thicker and more bestial. Queen
Mayinka watched the naked girl with a sense of shame, well aware that it
wasn´t worthy a woman of her dignity to steal a glimpse of her own daughter
enjoying her slender, girlish body.

   Nayeela was lying on her back on the bed with her left hand embedded
between her full, delicious buttocks, and a saliva-drenched middle finger
repeatedly stabbing into her tight, slippery anus. With the right hand she
caressed her shimmering cunt with a gentle, tickling touch. It was not easy
to distinct her delighted moaning from a grieving girl´s sobbing. 
   The young, pretty princess continued to finger-fuck her own asshole as
she spread the purple-black labia, giving the Queen a full view into her
beautiful pink cave. Her wet sex, with it´s parted and swollen, fleshy lips
and erected clit, reminded Mayinka of an exotic butterfly.    Nayeela kept
her big eyes closed during the fascinating act. As she started to rub the
stiff clitoris, her moaning grew louder and louder.
The princess´ tongue came out to wet her thick, sensual lips. She worked
hard, almost brutal, with the right hand´s fingers on the stiff
pleasure-pearl, letting go completely of the last remains of civilized
behavior. 
   The saliva ran down the corners of her mouth, making her look like a
drooling, sex-crazed lunatic, and she farted shamelessly several times. The
funny noises almost made her mother laugh out loud. They sounded like some
drunken fanfare, coming from a broken and very tiny trumpet.

   The sight of the shiny finger being swallowed over and over again by the
tight, black rim sent warm shivers through the Queens body. Her daughter
certainly was more advanced in her self-fondling than she herself had been
at that age. By now she was sure that the girl would be able to handle her
coming birthday present. 
   But first the Queen was gonna have to break in the beast hard and cruel,
to kill its spirit, and teach it the true pleasure in serving the Master
Race at any time and any cost. Mayinka turned away and headed for the
balcony. Behind her, the pretty princess screamed out her relief. 

   The two African royalties had their lunch in the luxurious dining-room
on the ground-floor, in front of one of the Picasso-paintings. Mayinka ate
her lobster in a very civil and self-controlled manner, while Nayeela
splashed ketchup on the paté and shoved it into her mouth, letting it mix
with the pancakes and maple syrup. The Queen looked at her daughter with
contempt.
   "You truly are disgusting, dear! I´ve seen pigs with better table manner
than you."
   "Oh, yeah?" Nayeela swallowed and burped. "White pigs, or the porky
kind?"
   "It is not appropriate for a future Queen to either eat or speak in such
a rude and filthy manner. You ought to know how to behave yourself, at
least in public."
   "In public! Mom, we´re in the middle of the jungle. The bloody servants
don´t even dare to look us in the eye, and if they do; I´ll teach them a
lesson they will not forget!"
   "I do not care what the servants might think. But I do care for your
behavior, young lady. And do not forget that you have royal blood in your
veins."
   "How could I possibly forget, when you keep reminding me every ten
minutes, day in and day out!" Nayeela started sucking on her greasy
fingers, including the one she had buried in her own ass. Mayinka hoped
that she had washed her hands carefully afterwards.
   "You know, mother; sometimes I wish that you really were that Merlene
Ottey people keep mistaking you for."
   "Nayeela!! How dare you?!" The Queen rose in anger and slapped her
daughter´s face with striking force.
   "Now, go to your room, and stay there until you´re ready to apologize
for your childish behavior!" 	
   The princess jumped to her feet, yelling:
   "It´s my bloody birthday tomorrow, and we´re stuck in the middle of
nowhere! I don´t even know what it is you have to do in this hell-hole, and
I don´t care! I wish I had stayed at home!" With those words she ran
upstairs, with the tears streaming down her cheeks. 
   Mayinka finished her meal calmly, but her inner rage wouldn´t go away by
itself. She knew who was going to pay for her daughter´s disobedience.

   She smiled viciously as she entered the cell. The fascist was standing
on a wooden stool with his hands tied behind the back. A thick rope was
fastened to a solid hook in the ceiling. It ran down to a loop wrapped
around his neck. To the Queen´s satisfaction, he looked even more pale than
before. 
   "Please, Your Highness...", he appealed.
   "I´ve told you already! You´re not to speak when not spoken to. When
will you ever learn? And what use do I have for a slave who doesn´t even
know his rightful place?" She placed her naked right foot on the stool.
   "Now, if I turned it over, I dare to bet that your aryan feet would not
reach down to the floor. The fall would surely not break your worthless
neck and give you the benefit of a quick and painless death. No, I think
that you would dance for a long, long time. The cruel dance of death. You
know, sometimes it takes more than thirty minutes for a stubborn man to
die. I have seen this before."
   For the next ten minutes she just stood there, staring into his eyes.
When the expression of plain fear in his face had changed to naked terror,
Mayinka turned around and walked over to the wardrobe in a corner of the
cell. She started to undress in front of it. Teasingly slow the Queen
unveiled her fabulous body. She hung her elegant red evening dress on a
hanger and began to slide down her silk stockings.

   Gerald Armstrong watched the African woman peel off the white stockings
from her long, black legs. He was beginning to realize that she would
actually kill him if he didn´t surrender to her; surrender to a... black
woman. He didn´t even in his thoughts dare to use that degrading word. Not
anymore. The Mastress who reminded of that sprinter, exposed a pair of
large and unbelievably firm, pointy breasts, with erected, fingertip-sized
nipples. They swayed majestically under her as she stood bent-over in front
of him.
    A heard-headed racist he may be, still he couldn´t help but admiring
her tall and sexy body as she let the blue cotton panties fall to the
floor. When she bent down to pick them up, Gerald caught a glimpse of her
most private parts. Her large, tasty buttocks spread and revealed a rim
that looked so tight and firm that he could hardly imagine a tongue
penetrating it. The wet flesh between her cunt´s lips shone in a
pink-reddish shade.
   A smell that remided him of raw fish filled the cell. She was enjoying
every second of this foreplay, like the cat enjoyed playing with a captured
mouse. When she turned around and faced him again, she held a riding-whip
in her right hand. She used it to pull down his boxer shorts, and let them
slide down his legs.

   "I am going to punish you for every word, every deed and every thought
that you have ever comitted against the black race. When my beautiful
daughter was only eleven years old, she watched a documentary about you and
your stinking party. She turned to me with tears in her eyes, asking how
anybody could be so cruel and so full of hate. That was the first time in
her life that she had been compared to a monkey, the first time she heard a
white man say that the only thing her people was good for was serving as
slaves under the "superior" white race. You made her cry that day, and now
I am going to let you pay for that."
   She held her panties with the inside out, in front of his face. He
kissed the wet stain of cunt-juice, and filled his lungs with the crude,
fishy scent. Slowly, his limp penis awoke and started to swell. The Queen
noticed that and smiled. He was getting there.
   It grew to its full length of 6" as he licked away the taste of her ass
from the soft material. Suddenly Mayinka hit the risen cock with a sharp
blow of the whip. Gerald screamed in pain and shock, as he fought to regain
the balance on the stool. For a short moment, he felt the hand of death
touching him, when he almost fell backwards, into a slow and painful mortal
struggle. 
   Seconds later he felt the warm and strong hand of his Mistress, as she
gripped his stiff and hurting cock and pulled him back to life again. The
pressure of the rough rope around his neck eased, and he was able to sigh
in relief. 

   "Thank you, Your Highness! Oh, thank..."
   "The next time you open your filthy mouth without being spoken to, I am
going to push you over and watch you dangle! For the last time: Is that
understood?!" 
   "Yes, Your Highness!" The slave was trembling with fear. He no longer
felt any contempt or hatred towards this woman, only a deep gratitude for
her mercy to save him from hanging.
   "Now, white trash, I am going to beat every ounce of ignorance out of
your mind. And after that, you are going to beg for permission to worship
my ass, or you will give me the pleasure of witnessing a world famous
nazi-leader dance himself to death at the end of a rope. It´s either way,
my fuhrer." Queen Mayinka circled him a couple of times, and then stopped
right behind his back. 
   "This is for my daughter´s tears!" The first lash hit him across the
shoulder-blades, and sent a shock-wave through his body. His eyes filled
with tears and the rope around the neck tightened its grip as his knees
buckled for a second.

   Mayinka grunted in disappointment when she inspected the red mark and
noticed that the skin wasn´t even broken.
   "I forgot to tell you, slave; you are to thank me for each and every
lash, and beg me for another one!"
   "Thank you, Your Highness! Please, give me what I deserve!" He sounded
like a devoted Private, eager to please his superior officer. Mayinka
thought he was getting there too fast. She had expected  a lot more
stubbornness and resistance. After all: there wasn´t much fun in shooting
fish in a barrel. She raised the whip.
   "Since you put it that way..." Now she used her whole body in the blow.
The whip hit his back at exactly the same spot as before, but this time
with power enough to rip his white skin open. Gerald croaked in pain and
ecstasy and moved his hips as if he was fucking his invisible angel of
death. 
   "Ooooh... Thank you, Your Highness! Please... again!" She repeated the
procedure fifteen more times, and was stunned to see him keeping his
balance throughout the severe flogging.
   As she lowered the whip, the white man lost his balance and turned the
stool over. In despair and panic, he began to kick and struggle, but the
stool was way out of reach and the only person with the power to save his
life was smiling at him a few yards away. He tried to beg for mercy, but
the only sound coming out of his tormented throat was a sickening gargle,
when the loop that bore his full weight tightened its strangle hold. 

   Mayinka let him dance for half a minute or so. Then she went to the
cupboard and picked up a razor-sharp machete. She would love to let nature
have its way with the nazi, and she would´ve enjoyed every second of it,
but she didn´t want to ruin her daughter´s birthday.
   "Still!", she commanded. And he stopped his kicking and thrusting. He
hung limp, almost motionless, with every muscle in his body on the verge of
explosion. She watched his eyes closely. And he gave her the sign she was
waiting for. With a casual smile on her lips, the Queen cut off the rope
and let him fall down, into a heap before her feet. 

   When he slowly regained consciousness, he became aware of something cold
and rough pressed against his face. The awful pain in his throat reminded
him of how close to death he had been only a few minutes ago. He opened his
eyes and kissed the sole of her foot. At that moment, Gerald Armstrong
understood and accepted the fact that he belonged to this woman. 
   "If I´m pleased with you, I will bring you back to Africa as a souvenir.
If I´m not; you shall die on this spot. Now, get to work!"
   Then she squatted over his face, with her soaking wet cunt in front of
his mouth. He started to lick her purple and pink flesh with a devotion he
had never sensed before. This was the first day of his new life, a life
that would come to an end the moment his Mastress decided it to. And he
didn´t want it any other way. 
   When she came in hot, bestial orgasms all over his face, he almost
started to cry, overwhelmed by the Queen´s lustful laughter, and her
generosity to let him serve her.