Sold. 9 " ( Mf femdom nc interr ws )

	CHAPTER 9

  Princess Nayeela slammed the door and headed for the kitchen. She cursed
her mother and everything around in her native tongue:
  "Fussy bitch! Fucking prison camp! I should never have come to this dump
in the middle of fucking nowhere!" She grabbed an egg from the fridge and
threw it against the wall. The next one hit an oil painting above the
kitchen table.
  "Looks much better now. Boring, bloody picture. Now thatīs what I call
art!" She dropped half a dozen eggs on the floor and stomped on them. When
the entire floor was a smeary mess, she went to the living-room and started
cleaning the soles of her shoes on the persian carpet. When she was done,
she picked up the phone to call one of her friends back home. Before she
started dialling, there was a cool female voice at the other end:
  "Yes, Your highness, what can I do for you?"
Nayeela held her breath and thought for a short while.
  "There is a mess in the kitchen. Send somebody to take care of it, right
away!"
  "Certainly! Do Your Highness have any particular demands?"
Particular demands? This woman had a screw loose, the Princess thought to
herself.
  "Yes, I do. I want a white man, dressed in pink panties. If heīs not here
within five minutes, I will be very upset!" She hung up and started to
laugh hysterically. What a nut-house!

  The cell-door swung open, two armed women grabbed him by the arms and led
him out of his dungeon. He knew that even the slightest attempt to resist
would be severely punished, so he made sure to keep up with their pace.
They stripped him in a corridore and threw him a pair of pink underwear.
  "Put these on! Now!"
He was led upstairs in his humiliating outfit. The icy cold barrel of the
gun kept reminding him of his choices in this new world: Obey or die! The
women used a lot more force than necessary in pushing and shoving him
towards their destination. He fell twice and was kicked to his feet by the
tall negro amazon. They passed a couple of middleaged ladies, with features
and clothing hinting they were either Indian or Lankese. One of them
stopped him by grabbing his balls. Hard. 
  "This one taken already?", she asked his guards.
  "Yes, Madam. Do you ladies wish him to serve you later?" 
The cruel-looking and fat woman squeezed his testicles hard enpough to make
him moan in pain. She watched his face for a couple of seconds, with the
expression of somebody who had just discovered a turd on her finest carpet.
  "Bring him to suite 27 after heīs done. That is; if heīs still in the
condition to fulfil his duties by then." She let go of his balls.
  "Certainly, Madam!"
Half a minute later, he knocked on the door. A pretty, black girl in her
early teens opened and let him in. Was he going to serve a girl who could
be no more than 14-15 years old? As an answer to his question, she slapped
his face several times.
  "Get down on your knees, white boy! Youīve got some work to do!"

  Nayeela could hardly believe her luck. It was meant as a joke, but here
he was, a white slave wearing pink panties. She estimated him to be about
25 years old, and like all white men he looked as if begging somebody to
walk all over him. He wasnīt that bad looking, she thought. At least not
for a whitey. To her disappointment, he didnīt look one bit cocky. She
would have loved to take that out of him.
  "Youīre needed in the kitchen, slave!" The Princess led him there, while
pinching his ass with her sharp finger-nails.
  "Eggs make such nasty stains. My mother will be very upset if she notices
a single trace of the mess when she gets back. It is your duty to clean it
up, and you better go to work right now!"
  With those words she kicked him in the back, and sent him flying forwards
into the kitchen. He landed with his face in a slimy puddle of crushed
eggs.
  "You will use your mouth. And I suggest that you start with that ugly
painting over there. They donīt come cheap. I can tell you that!"
  "Mastress! Am I allowed to..."
  "What! Mastress? Itīs Goddess Nayeela to you, you worthless piece of
shit!"
  "Goddess Nayeela! Am I allowed to stand on my feet? I canīt reach it from
here."
  "Yes, pig, you may stand up!" He raised himself slowly and began to lick
the stained canvas. The picture represented a dull, rainy street in some
boring part of the world. He licked the cracked shell from a
barbershop-window, and chewed twice before swallowing. It took him more
than ten minutes to lick up the organic substance. Or, it took more than
ten minutes before Nayeela was pleased with his work. The stain on the wall
was a bit easier, but she made him go at it thoroughly. And he knew that
the worst part was still ahead of him, or rather; beneath him.
  "And now to the funny part. Get down!" The Princess became aroused by her
own power as she watched him obey her commands without hesitation. She felt
her sex moistening and swelling when the blood ran to her crotch, filled
her labia and erected her clitoris. 
  The slave dropped to his knees and lowered his face to the floor. He
started with the pieces of crushed shell within reach. The disgust he felt
and the sound when he chewed the cracked white pieces, sent cold,
unfamiliar shivers down his spine. To his own surprise, serving this mean
and pretty girl caused a minor quake within his guts. He hated her for
making him crawl and lick up her mess, yet he adored her for her firmness
and superiority. Crawling for this young Goddess made him horny, there was
no use in denying it. His cock grew harder than ever before. He hadnīt felt
such pleasure in submitting himself to a woman since he was kidnapped and
brought here four months ago. Not a single one of the 17 women who had used
him during that time had made him feel this way.
  He started sucking in the nausiating, snot-like blobs and tried not to
think as he swallowed the broken yolks, mixed with the transparent whites.
Nayeela enjoyed the sight of her slave lying face-down on the floor,
sucking and slurping up the mess she had caused, in order to please her.
She noticed that his penis was about to leap out of his small panties as it
grew harder and bigger. 
  After eating the major chunks, he began to lick up the rest of the
stains. Nayeela reprimanded him several times, made him go back to work
with his sore tongue on areas he had already cleaned carefully. Two hours
later, she was finally satisfied with his deed.
  "Good dog! Now thereīs only a carpet and a pair of shoes left. After
that, you may be dismissed!"

  When Queen Mayinka returned to the suite at 10.20 p.m., she found her
daughter sitting on her bed, reading a comic. She smiled broadly when she
saw her mother.
  "Hi, mom! Iīm really sorry about my childish outburst in the dining-room.
I wish to apologize."
  "Youīre welcome, dear! Have you had anything to eat yet?"
  "I had a couple of eggs... and dropped a few on the floor too."
  "I hope you didnīt clean up the mess yourself!"
  "No, I called room-service. They sent someone over."
  "Good!" She sat down beside her daughter.
  "Look, I know this is not too easy for you, dear. I mean staying here...
But I have a little surprise for you tomorrow."
  "Wow, a present! I thought I wasnīt going to get one this year", she
lied. 
  "Why, of course you are! Itīs a big day tomorrow. You turn 15, and you
know what that means."
  "Yes, mother", Nayeela nodded shyly. She knew that meant a giant step
into womanhood. She would no longer be treated like a child. And the gifts
handed to her that day should somehow symbolise that leap.
  "God, I canīt wait `til tomorrow!"
  "I suggest you go to sleep as soon as possible. You will need all your
strength for the big day," Mayinka whispered with a mysterious smile and
hugged her daughter.
  "By the way... Whatīs your favourite animal? Ah, never mind. Have
pleasent dreams, dear!" She left the room.
  Nayeela undressed and laid down, puzzled but also excited. Favourite
animal? She tried to picture herself beside a huge and powerful lionesse.
But surely, her mother hadnīt brought her all the way from Africa to Brazil
to buy her a lion?! A few minutes later she fell asleep and dreamt of a
pale-faced man shouting abuse at her in English. There were only two words
coming out of his ugly mouth, repeatedly:
  "Nigger! Ape! Nigger! Ape!"

  After having breakfast with her mother, Nayeela was led downstairs to
something that caused her to think of a medieval prison. They stopped in
front of one of the thick steel doors and her mother picked up a scarf out
of her back pocket and blind-folded her. 
  There was a loud creaking noise when the heavy door opened. The Princess
imagined she could hear the agony and the prayers of the imprisoned men and
women throughout the centuries. She was beginning to understand now. But
could it really be...
  "The beast has been broken in and tamed. It has learned that its destiny
is all in your hands. Unfortunately, itīs a bit stupid, and in need of a
firm, guiding hand. You may use all the force and violence you consider
necessary. And one more thing: itīs not bearing any disease. Well... Happy
Birthday!" The scarf was removed. 
  
  There he was; the white man who had haunted her dreams for so long, the
infamous nazi-leader from America, who once had made her cry when she
watched that documentary. It was the same man who had abused her when she
had fallen asleep last night. Only this time he was standing on his knees,
with an obedient expression on his face.
  "Heīs not even tied up, mom. Are you sure he wonīt resist?"
  "Trust your mother, dear! He would much rather die than fail to please
you. Isnīt that right, pig?!" The white man bowed his head and spoke
humbly:
  "Yes, Your Highness! If I donīt manage to please your wonderful daughter,
I donīt deserve to live." 
Nayeela stood there, gaping in disbelief.
  "Mother, what have you done to him? Or is this some kind of a stupid
joke? If it is, I will never, ever forgive you!"
  "Thereīs only one way to find out, Nayeela. Try him!" 
As the Princess watched the kneeling fascist and remembered his words, her
anger rose quickly. Within ten seconds she felt as if she was about to
burst. She took four steps, clenched her right fist and punched his already
bruised face. He swayed, but remained on his knees.
  "Thank you, Your Highness!", the slave uttered and bowed his head again.
  "Correction, pig: Goddess Nayeela!"
  "Thank you, Goddess Nayeela!" A trickle of blood ran down his left cheek.
  "Donīt mention it", she whispered and kicked him on the chin. This time
he went down. As he struggled to get up, Nayeela spat in his face. She
raised her left shoe to his head and smeared the sticky saliva all over his
cheeks and lips. Then she stuck the front of her dirty sneaker into his
mouth, urging him to suck on it.
  "Mother, I wish to be left alone with this garbage."
  "Of course, dear! Iīll be back in about five hours. Iīve been told they
serve a delicious lasagna for lunch."
  "Sounds great. See you then. Bye!"

  The door slammed and Nayeela pressed her foot down his throat until he
almost choked. Still, he made no effort to break free. He just appealed to
her with his blue eyes. The croaking sound from the back of his throat
thrilled her tremendously. She had the power to do anything to this worm;
even to squash it. Yes, she could... But that would spoil all the fun.
  She pulled her foot back, allowed him to sit up and catch his breath.
There was an ugly mark on his chin, with blood dripping from it. Nayeela
ignored it completely and started to undress in front of him. Stricken with
pain and horror, like a dog awaiting his furious masterīs next move, he
watched the pretty, black girl step out of her panties. Her large and sexy
ass was the only thing about her that looked mature and fully grown. Even
though the thighs were rather thick, they still appeared to be slender and
firm. The strong, artificial light in the cell gave her black skin a
blueish shade. Her sweet, pleasent scent made him forget his throbbing
headache. At least for a while.
  "On your back, pig!", Nayeela exploded. He obeyed her command in no-time.
She lowered herself over his face until she felt the tickle of the tip of
his nose in her anus.
  "You will now do what no man have ever done before. You will please my
royal sex with your worthless tongue. If you fail to do so, I shall put you
to death! First, I want you to put the palms of your hands against the
floor. If you lift them, only for a short second, I will chop them off and
throw them to the lions. Or I will throw You to the lions. Would you want
that to happen?"
  "Oh no, Goddess Nayeela! I will do anything to satisfy you!"
  "I know you will. And you better start right now, white pig!" The lips of
the man who had once referred to her race as "niggers" and "apes", met her
already wet and swollen labia in a soft kiss. She sat down on his head and
felt the tip of his pointy nose penetrate her tight rim. Ah, yes! This was
much better than her own finger. She shivered as he continued to kiss her
cunt, at first light and cautious, then, after a few minutes, he sucked her
into his mouth and drank her flowing juices. 
  He couldnīt believe a young girlīs pussy could be so thick, so full and
so spicy. She tasted like a grown woman, and she behaved like one, despite
her age. When she let her full weight rest on his head, all he could think
of, through the pain and the tears, was:
  "Palms to the floor... Palms to the floor..."

  Nayeela had a series of wonderful orgasms as she watched his convulsing
body giving up its pointless struggle. With a satsified grin, she farted in
his face. The perverted, filthy sound made her whole body tremble with
laughter. That should wake him up!
  But it didnīt. He laid unconscious for more than fifteen minutes. For a
moment, she feared that she had killed him. Then he started breathing
normally again. Nayeela sighed. Her mother wouldnīt be pleased if she
smothered her slave.
  She slapped his shimmering face when he seemed to be back to the land of
the living again, noticing that the palms of his hands were still glued to
the floor. A devoted piece of white trash, she thought.
  "Congratulations! Youīve just survived the first sitting", she laughed in
his face as he opened his eyes and tried to focus on the young girl. 
  "That calls for a celebration! How about some body-tempered champagne,
guaranteed sparkle-free. Open your mouth!" She seated herself. The golden
squirt hit his tongue with a splashing sound. He had to fight hard to keep
up with her, and swallowed the freely pouring liquid without closing his
mouth once. 
  Oh, what a sweet sensation it was, to use a white man as a chamber-pot.
Nayeela watched bemused how the squirt disappeared between his teeth, down
his throat. She had another long and hot orgasm as she squeezed out the
last drops of piss into his mouth. When he finally was allowed to fill his
lungs with fresh air, there was nothing but pure gratitude in his eyes. 
  "I wish to thank you, Goddess Nayeela, for giving me this true pleasure!"
The Princess rose and walked away. She had become bored already. With a
sulky and restless expression on her face, she started searching through
the cupboard. There were a variety of strap-on rubber cocks, toy-looking
whips and a large number of more or less unbelievable sex-gear. Then, under
a heap of kinky underwear, she found what she had been looking for: a stout
whip with a wooden handle. It held nine black leather tentacles that
measured almost two feet each, with vicious-looking, sharp knots at the
other end. She turned and faced him. 
  "Give me one good reason why I shouldnīt beat you to death right here and
now!" Gerald crawled across the floor and kissed her naked feet.
  "My beloved Goddess Nayeela, I will do anything for as long as I live, to
fulfil all your wishes and desires. My humbled life is in your Gracious
hands, and I am most grateful. I beg you to spare me, if only for one more
day. You will not be disappointed." He started licking her sweaty toes in a
last effort to persuade her to show him mercy.

  The first lash hit the lower part of his back, just above the ass. He
suppressed a scream and sensed something chilling and mind-blowing and
completely out of this world travel down his spine, and then filling his
entire body. He let out an ecstatic sigh.
  She placed one of her feet on his head and raised the whip a second time.
The sight of the blood, already glimmering on his back, made her feel
extremely strong and superior; Like a female panther beside a stricken
prey. 
  The nine knots danced all over his tormented body for several minutes.
The young Princess paid no attention to his gruesome screams. She made him
start paying off his debt to her people, with his own blood. The appetizing
love juices ran down her slender thighs, all the way down to her feet.
Between the eleventh and sixteenth lash, she had the most thrilling orgasm
she had ever experienced.
  "And hereīs for "nigger"! And hereīs for "ape"! How do you like it, hah,
white pig?!", she yelled in ecstasy. What she didnīt know was that the
fifteenth lash pushed him over the edge, into a thunderous relief that he
didnīt deserve. All she could see was his bleeding, spastic body, awaiting
further punishment.
  After about thirty furious lashes, she collapsed on top of him. The last
wave of the second orgasm put her lights out. And the exploding pain that
multiplied when she fell over him, sent Gerald Armstrong into a merciful
unconsciousness.

  The voice called her through the thick fog, from another world. Somebody
touched her shoulder. "Nayeela!" But she just wanted to be left alone. With
some effort she opened her own mouth: "Go away! Leave me alone, Iīm fine!"
She heard laughter that sounded familiar.
  "Itīs time for lunch!" She opened her eyes and spotted her smiling
mother. The warm body beneath her moved regularly as the slave breathed.
  "Mother."
  "Yes, dear?"
  "When we return... May I..." She pinched the sleeping slave and giggled
softly.
  "You want to keep him?"
  "Yes. I want to bring him home as a souvenir of my fifteenth birthday.
After all... You gave him to me as a present. I want to keep him as my
slave. He still has very much to answer for. Please, mother!"
  "Anything for you, dear!" Queen Mayinka kissed her daughter on the cheek.
There would be an extra passanger on the flight back to Africa.