From dorengrey4@gmail.com Mon Oct 14 11:53:14 2024 To: stories@nifty.org
The Life of Koru, Chapter 46
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“Suh, I’se very sorry, Lil Massa suh!” Peon said.
“The collars are bad and it’s only your fault, ape!” Sir Julian Nnamani said. “I am too tired at the moment to give you the punishment you deserve, so you will whip your own back, just to spare me the effort!”
“Lil Massa?” Peon said in disbelief.
“Yeah, you heard me, ape! Take this whip and start punishing yourself as hard as you think you deserve! Don’t forget to say it out loud how bad you are!”
Peon took the whip and, after a short hesitation, started to slap his back and his buttocks while saying:
“Suh, I’se a piece of shit, suh! I’se made bad work, suh! I’se a bad blacksmith, suh!”
And after a while, he even started to jump, raising his legs in the air and punishing his balls with the whip.
“Louder and faster, slave!” Lil Massa said. “We want to know your honest opinion about your work!”
“My work is bad, suh! My work is trash, suh!”
Peon intensified his punishment, whipping his body mercilessly. He knew that if he doesn’t do it now, Chief Mazi will do it later, with much greater severity.
After half an hour of whipping, he saw Lil Massa and Sir Kenneth laughing:
“It was just a prank, dumbass! The collars are fine as they are! You whipped yourself for nothing! Damn, you are so stupid!”
Peon dropped to his knees, assuming the “obeying monkey” position, not willing to anger Lil Massa any further.
“You don’t mind if we party in your wonderful tower tonight, do you?” Lil Massa asked Master Eamon.
“Do as you like, little prince! Just so you know, I want it clean by tomorrow morning. You may think I’m a slave, but I've inherited enough dignity from my Black father!”
“Yeah, but let’s not forget what origins your mother had!” Lil Massa said, laughing.
Massa Reginald’s son was ready for an entire night of drinking and debauchery and nobody could stop him. He released the slaves Bruno and Angus from the harness, as they were to serve as fuckboys for the night.
The two pony slaves started with some oral service, bobbing their heads up and down the Black cocks with enthusiasm. The goldsmith’s courtyard echoed the slurping sounds of their mouths and the appreciative moans of the two Black Lords.
“Oh yeah! That’s what I call entertainment!” Sir Kenneth said.
After that, the two pony slaves were fucked in the ass. Doggy style, arched backs, they stood with their butts up and wiggling. The two Black friends were holding the slaves by their golden collars while riding them hard.
As for Peon, he was still there in a corner, wanting to become small, wanting to be a mouse that goes unnoticed by the troublesome Lil Massa.
“You’re not escaping this, boy!” Lil Massa said. “I want Bruno and Angus to take turns and fuck your ass!”
Bruno and Angus had no respect for Peon. He was a lower slave, he belonged to the plantations and had ugly whip marks on his back. The fuck was rough and aggressive, a way for the pony slaves to assert dominance and make Peon feel like trash.
A few hours later, everyone seemed to be asleep, except Peon, who had a very sore ass.
Lil Massa was sleeping in a wicker armchair with a bottle of beer in his hand. Sir Kenneth was lying on a cushion mattress. Bruno and Angus were cuddled on the ground and snored.
At a certain moment, Peon sensed a strange movement in the air and heard a whisper. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Master Eamon stood there with a golden pendulum in his hand and talked to Lil Massa who was half-conscious.
“You will talk to your daddy about giving me freedom and citizenship, won’t you, boy? You will not disobey me! Now go clean your mess!”
Hypnotized, Lil Massa rose from the wicker armchair and with mechanical gestures started picking up the empty bottles and tidying up the place. Seeing the spoiled brat clean up after himself was so unusual that Peon had no doubt some very strange magic was at play. Lil Masa was no slave! Why was he made to clean?
“Suh, what are you doing to Lil Massa?” Peon asked Master Eamon, his voice trembling with fear.
Master Eamon was taken by surprise seeing his apprentice there. He jumped towards him with the golden pendulum in his hand and whispered:
“You didn’t see nothing, boy! Just watch this pendulum and you will forget! You will forget!”
Peon’s enlarged pupils watched the pendulum as it swung back and forth. A part of him wanted to resist, but the beauty of the pendulum mesmerized him, holding his gaze captive, until he collapsed into a very deep sleep.
They called him “The Wild Pup”. The Caliphate koru were afraid whenever they heard that he was roaming the desert with his small group of soldiers. He was quick and fearless and firm in his love for the Black Empire.
“Who dafuq is this pup?” asked Jubah, one of the commanders of the smallcocks.
“Just a worthless infidel!” Gubulah said.
“Allah will smash this pup to pieces!” Thawr added.
Allah really hated this pup. From his heavenly realm, he sent all sorts of curses upon the pup, such as monkey pox and diarrhea, but they were all blocked just in time by the divine protection of the Black Man in the Sky.
This doesn’t mean that the Wild Pup, also known as Mulo, and his soldiers lived well. Sometimes the food was insufficient. They relied on their faith alone, their unwavering faith in the Black Man in the Sky, who knew everything and guided their path.
Mulo was quite changed from the way he was when he first entered the desert. The sun had colored him to a very dark brown, while also making his hair flaxen. He had long hair and matted beard, his head full of lice. He was basically hungry all the time because the provisions were insufficient. He marched on patrol around Oasis Warrior’s Rest with his cock hard, full of love for the Black Empire and the Black Man in the Sky that he worshipped every night.
His right-hand soldier was Sleaze who carried the talkie that communicated directly with Base 23. Sometimes Captain Toure was heard from the station:
“Where are you, apes? Have you spotted anything unusual?”
“Nosuh Captain suh! No smallcocks to be seen around!” Sleaze said.
“Move faster with your brigade or I am not sending any more food! I am not feeding you to sit on your asses!“
“Yessuh Captain suh!”
Mulo and his soldiers spent most of the time patrolling and keeping watch. The situation was very tensioned as they were only twenty-one and any attack from the smallcocks could prove lethal. Captain Toure had promised to send reinforcements, but for some reason they were yet to arrive.
With the machete in his hand, Mulo traced a line in the desert, a sort of border that was several kilometers long. He called it “Linuh”:
“No enemy is crossin’ the Linuh while we’se protect it!” Mulo said.
And indeed the few smallcock soldiers who ventured beyond the Linuh were either chased away or killed.
This primitive demarcation made by a simple-minded koru was not so insignificant as it looked. It was the border between two great empires.