Slave Farm

CHAPTER FIVE

Celebration

I stood before the full length mirror admiring the nude reflection of My fine, young black body. As I did, I deliberately turned slowly about and postured so Lady Constance, who was visiting from New York City, could also appreciate the view. She surveyed My body casually but with no little disguised lust. “You are absolutely gorgeous, Ivory. I envy the way your bubble buttocks swell out so gently and so nicely curved.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. My African heritage.”

“Yes, of course, dear girl, but more lovely than any I have ever seen. I can just imagine My face burrowing between those luscious cheeks.”

“Oh, let’s not get naughty now, Lady Constance. We have to dress for tonight’s party.”

“Just a little kiss, Ivory, I promise I won’t linger now if you will promise to give Me longer access after the party.”

And so it was that Lady Constance knelt on the floor behind me and pressed Her face between My warm ass cheeks for a quick kiss. Meanwhile, Her personal slave knelt in a corner of the bedroom, holding out clothing for Me, his head bowed and eyesight riveted to the floor in front of him. As all slaves, he was a silent servant and blind to the activities of the Supreme Females he served. No more than a dumbwaiter or some other unseeing, unhearing, unthinking piece of functional furniture, he was happy to have the privilege of service.

Lady Constance resumed Her seat in the boudoir chair still smoldering from the taste and smell of My body on Her lips, and snapped Her fingers at the slave. He crawled forward on his knees holding the garments out before him, his head bowed between his outstretched and burdened arms. The slave patiently held that uncomfortable position while I casually admired Myself in the mirror. I smiled invitingly to Lady C and She had all She could do to restrain Herself in the chair. “Darling, I anticipate that your pussy will be the tastiest I have ever licked.”

“Best be careful, Lady C, or I’ll have You as My pussy slave.”

“I assure You it will not be My first experience as such. I find pussy so superior than cock, don’t You?”

At that moment Goddess Natasha entered the room. Lady C rose from Her chair out of genuine respect and curtsied to Goddess. I quickly fell to My knees before Her and kissed each of Her shoes twice to affirm My acknowledgment of Her Supremacy.

“Majesty, how may I serve You?”

“Hello, Constance,” Goddess greeted Lady C, and then to Me, “You may rise, Ivory, and continue dressing for tonight’s party.”

Ladies’ night to party. Tonight was to be the fifth anniversary of Goddess Natasha’s Slave Farm. A celebration dinner and festive activities were planned. Goddess had commanded that Ingrid and I would dress with the visiting Ladies in costume. All of the Ladies would be dressed appropriately in ante bellum, Southern Belle plantation ball gowns. Only Tricia and Malena would be dressed in “gentlemanly” attire in order to more easily shepherd the slaves. They would be the Rhett Butlers to Our Scarlett O’Haras, and frankly m’dear I just “don’t give a damn.”

Pardon My giggle, but it was quite wicked of Goddess Natasha to come up with such a masquerade theme as a Southern Plantation Ball for tonight’s celebration. Bless Her, She wondered if I would be offended. I told Her hell no, as long as the slaves were white. That was a transformation I cherished. The tables were to be turned at last. Truthfully, I loved My role as Black Wardress to these wimpy white male slaves. Oh, and that richard! What a hot facefuck that boy gave Me! I was still aglow from our nooner. Such strong neck muscles. And those hard jaws and teeth! He was tireless with the dildo in his mouth. Yummy. I think he’s a keeper. I may approach Goddess with that request later.

I pinned My long, black hair up into a Sarah Pallin and then I sat on the edge of the bed while Lady C’s slaveboy carefully dressed My calves with white silk stockings and tied them with red ribbons just below My knees. The slave was very careful to keep his vision fixed on My feet, but I gave Lady C a lingering, teasing look at the lips between My bronze thighs. We exchanged smiles as I deliberately spread My legs for Her view and puckered My lips in a kiss for Her across the room.

“Oh, You two are sooo naughty!” Goddess Natasha remarked. “Be sure You don’t leave the party too early,” She laughed. When Goddess was in the room, Her presence dominated every activity.

“Why, where would We go, Goddess?” I asked, feigning innocence.

“Take care, Constance. Ebony is a wicked Wardress. I dare say, You could very well end the evening having Your own ass spanked.”

“Well, I am not sure that would be unpleasant, Goddess,” Lady C giggled, “so long as I get a few tasty licks at the girl Myself.”

“You are such a slut, Constance.” Goddess Laughed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn You.”

I rejected the knee length, cotton britches the slaveboy held out for Me. I would much rather be naked underneath than wear confining britches. I permitted the slave to dress Me in a long, cotton chemise and a whale boned corset, which he laced tightly up My back, and which lifted My breasts quite nicely. However, I waived him off when he scurried back with the hooped ball gown.

“Oh dear,” I said, “I am afraid I will have to pee before he can dress Me in My gown. Will you excuse Me while I go to the bathroom, My dear Goddess and Lady C?”

“Of course,” said Goddess.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, darling,” from Lady C. “I mean you don’t have to leave the room to pee while I have My very own human urinal right here for your convenience.” Then, Lady C commanded Her slave: “geoffrey, fetch the funnel gag immediately. Don’t keep Wardress waiting.”

“Yes, Mistress.” The slave ran off to do Her bidding. In a few moments he returned with a funnel gag strapped around the back of his head. The small opening of the funnel in his mouth, the slave knelt before Me and offered Me the wide end.

“Wonderful!” I laughed to Goddess and Lady C. as I guided the funnel opening to it’s proper fit between My thighs. It funnel gag served as a  wide-opened toilet mouth to receive My golden nectar. I parted the labia of My pussy and let loose a torrent of Ebony juice. The slave gulped and swallowed My pee as fast as he could.

“Don’t you dare spill a drop, geoffrey,” Lady C admonished the kneeling, desperately gulping boy as the warm liquid flushed into his throat. I had so much to give before the stream finally became a trickle. I nodded to Lady C and She snapped Her fingers at the slave who thereupon removed the funnel from his head, lay it aside, and wiped Me clean gently with a cotton napkin. Upon drying Me, the slave geoffrey held the napkin up as if offering it to his Mistress. Lady C nodded permission for him to suck and chew the damp napkin. “All part of our little ritual,” Lady C smiled fondly at Her slave. “And what do you have to say to Wardress Ivory, geoffrey?”

“Thank you for the privilege to drink your golden juice, Wardress. i am humbly grateful to have been Your urinal.”

Wardress Malena entered at the bedroom door and announced that the pre-dinner exhibition awaited us. We were all to gather downstairs in the Great Exhibition Hall. I should point out that Malena and Tricia were dressed with trousers tucked into their boots, long-tailed gentleman’s coats, and rather rakish top hats tilted to one side of their heads. As Ladies finished dressing in their stunningly gala, hooped ball gowns, they gathered in the Exhibition Hall. Goddess Natasha and Jenny led the way for Lady C and Myself.

We were joined by W. Dana and our other two Superior Guests – Princess Tiffany of Detroit, a vicious sadist and man eater, and TS Mistress Ana from Los Angeles, a statuesque uber-model who much preferred stylish leather than these “grotesque” nineteenth century gowns as She called them. At six feet four inches plus high heels, She had presented a difficult task for slave severin’s wardrobe skills.

The procession of Dommes entered the Exhibition Hall to view what delights had been assembled by the Wardresses Malena and Tricia. The Wardresses bowed low in the fashion of Confederate Gentlemen and swept their hats before Goddess Natasha and the assembled Ladies, gesturing toward the slave “sculptures” on display in the Hall.

The Hall was larger than you would expect given the size of the main house and our location at the edge of the Florida Everglades. I can’t begin to estimate the size of the room that had been built onto the back of the original house after Goddess Natasha gained control of the property.

At the center of one long wall there was a low dais upon which stood a curve-backed chair decorated with royal purple cushions and golden trim initials “GN” on the back rest.

Goddess Natasha stepped onto the dais and seated Herself on the throne chair, which reminded Me very much of an emperor’s chair of ancient Rome. Mistress Jenny stood beside the Goddess on the dais. At the heel of Goddess Natasha’s left boot knelt the slave severin, his face properly flush with the purple carpeting of the dais. The slave had already eaten his meal with the kitchen staff and the medical staff.

A banquet table occupied the long wall opposite to the throne. The table was laden with food and drink for this evening’s festivities. Behind the table stood several of the Farm’s slaves, naked and collared, prepared to serve our meals. The cook’s staff fussed at the final arrangements of flowers, dishes and cutlery.

The slave exhibition – a series of cages and bondage devices - occupied the length of the room between the Throne on one wall and the banquet table on the other. As Goddess Natasha watched with a pleased smile, the Wardresses Malena and Tricia led the three visiting Ladies in a parade past the exhibits they had so artfully arranged. Dana and I trailed along.

One slave occupied each exhibit, and each was, of course, naked except for locked chastity device and locked collar. Each slave was also blindfolded, adding no doubt to his disorientation and helplessness. Dana and I followed behind the parade of visiting tourists – the Dommes, Lady Constance, Princess Tiffany, and TS Mistress Ana, all of whom exclaimed in delight or made rude, snickering comments at the embarrassed slaves on display.

The first display station featured a six foot tall, Macaw bird cage with a slave seated upon a bar stool. His neck collar was attached to the bars behind him. His wrist shackles were fettered behind his back and his legs were spread wide and elevated, each ankle shackle attached to the cage bars in front of him and at a level above the top of the bar stool. The slave struggled to maintain his balance on the stool. “Oh, if the poor boy falls off, I fear he will strangle,” remarked Lady C.

“That would be a sight to see,” replied Princess Tiffany cruelly and hopefully.

The second station was a vertical whipping post ornamented by a bound slave. The slave had a ball gag in his mouth and strapped around the back of his head. The ball gag was attached to the whipping post by a very short chain. The slave’s wrists were shackled at the back of his neck collar and his legs were held apart by a steel spreader bar. “I don’t doubt he will end up hanging by his teeth.” laughed Lady C.

“I love the drool running down his chin,” exclaimed the bitchy Princess from Detroit. TS Ana just ran Her hand in a caress over the slave’s ass cheeks.

At the third station a slave stood confined in a very narrow vertical cage. He was unable to move in any direction. Princess Tiffany reached into Her purse and found a pair of clamps of the cruelest sort. She placed them on the slave’s nipples and then attached them to the wire of the cage. “Oh, I do hope the poor boy doesn’t go limp,” she laughed. “Although, if he falls asleep, these clamps will surely wake him.” No one replied to her taunts.

Station four was a heavy padded table. A slave knelt on the table in a most uncomfortable manner. Iron clamps held his ankles and knees immovable. His wrists and elbows were also clamped to the table top. His head protruded downward through a hole in the table, having the effect of bending him well forward and trusting his naked ass high in the air. All the ladies stopped to admire this “sculpture.” They made cooing sounds of appreciation for the artistry, and broke into laughter when TS Ana cried out, “Boy, would I like to fuck that ass.” She stuck a gloved finger rudely into his butt hole.

Dana whispered to Me, “I have heard from the help that TS Ana has a cock big enough to choke a horse.”

I giggled. “I’d love to see that.”

“I’m sure you will before this night is over, darling.”

At the final station, the slave was standing with his head and wrists locked in wooden stocks. On his back was an inflatable sex doll – a garish, red haired doll with a dildo tied around her hips and penetrating the boy’s asshole. Everyone burst into laughter at this ridiculous effigy. “Oh My God! I am ready for dinner,” Lady C cried, wiping tears of laughter from Her eyes.

“A round of applause, Ladies, to Wardresses Malena and Tricia for preparing such an amusing exhibition,” Goddess Natasha exclaimed as She stepped from the dais and crossed the room to the banquet table. “And yes I agree. It is time to eat and celebrate our good fortune at our Farm.”

All applauded as Malena and Tricia swept their hats low in deep bows of gratitude. Then with a great deal of chattering and laughter all of the Ladies and Wardresses joined Goddess at the banquet table for the feast of celebration. slave severin directed the service of the meal.

The celebration party for the fifth anniversary of the Slave Farm turned out to be a joyous and often bawdy affair as the champagne flowed and the Ladies became even more uninhibited. Princess Tiffany demonstrated Her skills with the single-tail whip on the poor boy attached to the post by a ball gag. TS Mistress Ana exhibited Her large, thick penis for us before climbing up on the bondage table at station four to buttfuck the slave who had his head down into the hole. Lady C crawled under the banquet table to lick My labia and clitoris. I was a bit embarrassed at first but She was so artful at Her task I was able to relax and experience several sustained orgasms without screaming too loudly.

EPILOGUE

After the party, life at the Farm returned pretty much to normal for awhile. The Guest Ladies departed with their slaves and were replaced with new Visitors. The paid attendance by male slaves grew with the passing years. The tomato crop and orange groves continued to prosper and the Farm remained an economic success.

Of course there was continuing turnover in the cook staff and the medical staff, and new Wardresses replaced the veterans. I moved into a luxurious Chicago townhouse and took richard as My personal slave. I permit him to sleep on a cot at the foot of My bed and to serve Me hand and foot when he is not pursuing his career and happily earning lots of money for My account. Of course, I continue using his dildo gag for a good facefuck every morning and night. If his service to Me is very good he is permitted to masturbate before Me on occasion. He pays for each privilege by receiving ten strokes of My cane. After which, his little dickey is locked back into it’s CB3000.

Goddess Natasha took a male lover and he lives with Her at the beach condo as Her slave, of course. Goddess continues to live in the style of a true Female Supremist.

Mistress Jenny spends most of Her time as overseer of the Farm and eventually with one of the new Wardresses who became Her personal slave. Jenny had learned so much in Her service to the Goddess and blossomed into a talented Mistress.

Alas, poor severin, the original owner of the property who relinquished everything in exchange for slavery to Goddess Natasha. One beautiful day in the month of May while the alligators were at the height of their mating season, he walked too near the river and was attacked by a frenzied, bull gator. Only a few pieces of his body were recovered. But I like to think that in the years since he met and served Goddess Natasha he accomplished what many men do not – he lived his dream. A fitting memorial for any true slave.

the end