The Life of Koru, Chapter 13
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This new rap song A.P.E. was all the fuss that summer:
"Anal Personal Escort, A.P.E.,
You're a brainless monkey so bow down to me!
Turn me up with your hole,
Twerk your body to the pole,
Put your ass on my dick like you become whole!
Give your booty, ape! Give your booty, ape!
Got my gang on you! Yeah, you heard me, ape!
Give your booty, ape! Give your booty, ape!
You'll be fucked all night! Yeah, I own you, ape!
A.P.E., I saw you and I really like your buttocks,
Come take my dick inside you like it is your quota!
You're a good worki-worker, can you work as hard in bed?
Well don't try saying no, or I'm whipping you instead!"
Give your booty, ape! Give your booty, ape!
Got my gang on you! Yeah, you heard me, ape!
Give your booty, ape! Give your booty, ape!
You'll be fucked all night! Yeah, I own you, ape!"
Sir Reginald was listening to the song on the radio to make time pass while travelling in his limo with Sir Ishmael. Sir Reginald had a very refined taste in music, from classical masterpieces of some Neo-African Composers, to jazz, blues and R&B, although rap music, no matter how vulgar, had a special place in his heart. Long before the Black Empire even existed, rap music had played a crucial role in shaping and affirming Black cultural identity and pride.
"This song is wrong on so many levels I can't even begin!" Sir Ishmael protested.
"No, Ishmael, the song is not wrong! Your are wrong with your strong prejudices!"
"MY prejudices?" said Sir Ishmael.
"Stop thinking about koru as some oppressed animals. Think of them as a resource. That's what they are."
"Who gave you this resource?"
"Who gave it to me? I bought it, I fought for it, I built a financial empire. Do you think that I just opened my door one day and found 20 000 smelly koru in my yard?"
Sir Reginald opened his car window to let some of the summer heat in.
"See those slaves?" he said, pointing to some koru toiling in the fields. "They work there all the time. All. The. Time. That is their sole purpose! To be working there for me. They have no mind, no souls, they are lower than animals. That's what koru are and you can't convince me otherwise!"
"So why did you bail me out?"
"You'll see!"
The white palace of Sir Reginald was a magnificent piece of architecture which had been built a while ago by thousands of industrious koru under the direction of Black architects. It was the result of a long and laborious process. Many sections of the palace had been demolished and rebuilt several times whenever Sir Reginald thought they didn't look well enough, until the palace achieved perfection. Yes, the koru could produce amazing works of art if they were coordinated with an iron fist. And it must be said that in this process they were the muscle, not the brain.
In front of the palace there were two gigantic mubato statues guarding the entrance. A "mubato", meaning "conquered one", was a common artistic motif in the Black Empire -- a chained crouched koru with large dick and prominent nipples. These creatures were a symbol of the victory of the Empire over the white race, but they also represented fertility and the harvest, and in some representations of the symbol the nipples of the koru spurted droplets of milk and semen, thus signalling that he is to be exploited like a cow to be milked.
Sir Ishmael climbed the stairs covered in expensive carpets and looked around the hall of Sir Reginald's palace which looked like a museum full of fine art objects and hunting souvenirs. He reached the sumptuous dining room where, to his surprise, Prof. Kumbaba waited for him.
"We meet again, young man!"
"Yes, but this time you are not on a stage to spread your wickedness!" Sir Ishmael responded.
"Spare me your fake outrage, activist! How much do you even know about the animals you try to protect?"
Sir Reginald intervened:
"Gentlemen, please! I invited you here together to have a civilized discussion!"
"I only want the koru to have some basic animal rights that are respected!" Sir Ishmael said. "Or even, why not, give them second-class citizenship so they can live like lowly blue-collar servants and be productive in this capacity, not as slaves!"
Dr. Kumbaba smiled.
"That part about the citizenship is never going to happen," he said. "I have studied the koru and I know what they will do if they ever become free. They will change entire neighborhoods into the dirtiest ghettos. The male koru will turn to crime and the female koru to prostitution. Slave apes cannot be expected to climb down from the trees and become civilized members of society. Give them salaries, what will they do with money? They are too stupid to use it. They will spend it on alcohol, drugs, prostitutes and especially gambling, in a vain attempt to double that shitty salary they would get, but they will be so clueless they will lose all the money everytime. Some koru will also lose their houses and live on streets like pests. We will need professional dog catchers just to gather all those dogs from the streets. Do you want to talk about the rape that they would do, the stealing and how they would even shit in the streets? They don't know any better! And during all these time, our companies will lose money, firstly because the koru will work way less hours and secondly because their `salaries' will have to be paid. What for, I ask you, young man?"
Sir Ishmael was taken aback by this avalanche of arguments.
"Well, if this doesn't work, then at least the slaves should have a clean place to sleep in and the right nutrition!" he said.
"Right nutrition? The koru have excellent, truly excellent nutrition on my plantations!" Sir Reginald assured him.
And he was right. The koru had very well-developed bodies, due in part to their Black masters who fed them with High-Protein Gruel (HPG) daily just to make their muscles better. This HPG substance was produced in large quantities in factories, specifically for the koru, and was made of barley mixed with gristle and synthetic protein into a composition that was both nutritive and satisfying for the slaves. Apart from the classic HPG formula, the factories also produced the following varieties:
HPG-Lax - gruel laced with strong laxative, used for regularly cleaning the bowels of the slaves,
HPG-Hot Pepper - gruel peppered with a very strong variety of hot pepper that was used used on slaves either as punishment or for the amusement of the overseers,
HPG biscuits - gruel pressed into dry hard biscuits,
HPG-Stale - stale gruel, repackaged, reintroduced on the market,
HPG-Stale Plus -- residual stale gruel, repackaged again, reintroduced again on the market.
It was impossible for the koru slaves to not develop strong powerful bodies with so much work and such good nourishment.
"Young man," Prof. Kumbaba said. "I don't let many visitors in, but I would like you to come to my lab, to see that everything is clean and purely scientifical."
Almost a week after their deparasitation, Mulo and Peon were allowed to return to the koru camp. In their absence, Muaka had tried to assume the top position again, but his friends had betrayed him. A new top dog emerged, a young slave with the name Dumbo. Unlike Muaka, Dumbo was a nice guy, although a bit ugly. He had been ridiculed his entire life beacuse of his large ears (hence his name). He had to fight hard to make anyone look past that.
When Peon and Mulo came back, Peon wanted his mud hut back, but Dumbo had claimed it for himself. Technically speaking, the hut was not Peon's anymore. Because of this, Peon and Dumbo went into a fight over who was more dominant. In the end, Dumbo triumphed so he took his large cock and pissed around the mud hut to mark his territory.
Peon and Mulo had to swear fealty to Dumbo in order to be allowed in the hut, and only as his subjects.
As part of the ritual, Peon had to share Mulo, his bottom dog, with Dumbo. Mulo was fucked by Dumbo in the ass while Peon gave him his cock to suck. The threesome was entertaining and it made the slaves bond like nothing else. However, Mulo felt shame looking into Peon's eyes with Dumbo's cock was buried deep inside his ass and the guilt was amplified by the fact that the fucking felt way too enjoyable.
"Damn, yer bottom dog is good!" said Dumbo when they finished.
"Thanks, bossuh!" Peon answered with the required politeness.
"Ye don't have to call me bossuh, Peon! Just Dumbo!"
"How about Mulo? Can he calls ye Dumbo as well?"
"Nay, he not. I don't like bottom bitches be callin' me by name."
And so Mulo learned that he was going to be discriminated in that house.
It was clear from the get go that Dumbo scorned him, and this was not because Dumbo was mean or anything. It was just because in the koru society, bottom dogs were treated as second-rate slaves by default and nobody respected them. How could they? Bottom dogs were slaves of slaves, bottom of the bottom and lowest of the low.
Mulo knew this and he knew that he couldn't rise above his station with his current fighting skills. He tried to learn, he used Peon's advice to improve his punches, dreaming of one day becoming a top. But for that he needed to be fearless, braver and stop crying like a pup.
In the darkness of the mud hut, Peon and Dumbo would practice fighting almost every night. Sometimes Mulo wanted to try and he got beaten by both.
"Not good enough, bottom!" Dumbo said. "I'se think ye'll be a bottom all yer life."