The Life of Koru, Chapter 68
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Mazo was not allowed to look at Mrs. Faraja. No matter what, he had to keep his eyes downcast to his feet if he ever happened to be in her presence.
Furtive glimpses from an uncultured ape like him to a highly-refined lady like Mrs. Faraja were considered extremely offensive, and on top of that, Sir Jared was quite a jealous man. That's why when he caught Mazo glimpsing one time at Mrs. Faraja's feet, Sir Jared scolded him:
"Did you just fucking look at my wife, boy?"
"Sorry, suh Massa Jared suh, I'se only looked at Missuh's boots, suh! Please forgive me, suh Massa Jared suh!"
"Never! You are going to the whipping frame right now!"
Mazo fell on his knees and started begging:
"Please, Massa Jared suh! I'se didn't want to, Massa Jared suh! I'se wuz tempted!"
"Tempted, huh? Let's see if you have any more `temptations' after this punishment!"
Sir Jared ordered Mazo to stretch his arms and legs on the whipping frame so that he could tie him up. Rope and pulleys were used to force the slave into a very uncomfortable taut position, where his toes barely touched the ground and his body hung there stretched to the limit, in anticipation of the punishment.
Sir Jared was very happy with this setup. His whip slashed through the air with an ominous crack, meeting Mazo's flesh in a searing explosion. Such hits made the slave lose contact with the ground as he writhed in pain, dangling from his arms. Each lash seemed to burn deeper than the last, leaving angry red welts that crisscrossed his back.
"AAAAAH!" Mazo screamed from the depth of his lungs, already covered in sweat.
At a certain point during the whipping, Mrs. Nefertari was seen descending from the garden pavilion.
"Now what's this noise ?" she said. "I can't concentrate on reading the cards!"
"I'm whipping an ape on the frame as you see, `dear grandma'!" Sir Jared responded.
"Well, you forgot to gag his mouth, young man! He's squealing like a pig!"
"Stop patronizing me, you bitch!" Sir Jared thought, but what he said was:
"`Dear grandma', what a good idea! I'll do as you ask!"
Sir Jared placed a wooden bit in Mazo's mouth and proceeded to whip him even harder, releasing all the frustrations he had accumulated in recent days.
Mazo was a strong koru and his back was all strong muscles and sinews, but even such a back couldn't resist the relentless onslaught of Jared's whip. His hide was torn from side to side, letting long wounds open like swollen trenches carved in the depths of his flesh. The pain was incredible and Mazo couldn't even voice it out, as the gag made him swallow every sound in his throat, together with his thick saliva. He gurgled and grunted like an animal, to the amusement of Sir Jared who really made him `dance' and twist his body on the whipping frame.
This was Mazo's punishment for looking towards a lady, for daring to raise his eyes from the ground.
Big Mamma Bosom had been naive in thinking that giving free fucks to koru would pacify them.
The next day after her election, her brothel was stormed by thousands of very excited koru males who wanted to have their sexual needs immediately addressed. They kept jumping over each other in the queue, wrestling and forcing their way to the brothel's entrance, while behaving like aggressive apes.
"Stop pushin' me!" a burly koru yelled.
"Ye're the one pushin'!" another koru responded. "I'se wuz here before ye! I'se just wanna fuck!"
"Give us the free fuck! Give us the free fuck!" the koru were yelling.
"Well, just wait in line then!" one of the prostitutes said. "I'se don't have a thousand cunts for all of ye!" .
"Ye lied to us! Ye said each one of us will'se get a free cunt!"
"Big Mamma Bosom, ye lied!"
The incumbent president Big Mamma Bosom ordered her `presidential' guards to break up the mob using their clubs and whips, but the fired-up koru would simply not let go of their dream to fuck cunt. More fights ensued, as the crowd screamed and Pupistan was collapsing into chaos.
Taking advantage of this situation, Jawser, who was the main leader of the opposition, organized a coup d'état to install his sizeable ass on the throne. He was accompanied by enthusiastic koru who were yelling:
"Jawser, Jawser is our king! We'se don't want no bitch in lead!"
Yet another group of koru was in favor of King Fatso, whom they managed to release from prison and who was not at all pleased to see that his son Jawser now wanted to be king:
"Boy, I'se made ye with muh own cock and if you annoy me I'se'll put ye back in!" King Fatso told Jawser.
It was civil war, son against father, males against wummses, the law of the jungle was taking over Pupistan!
When Peon's box arrived in California and the box opened, Peon was very surprised to see that he was not back on the plantation and he would not be crucified for being a fugitive. Instead he was surrounded by strange high-tech buildings and Black Lords in lab coats, who goaded him to jump under a shower and scrub his ass clean.
"Suhs! Where's am I? I'se a fugitive, suhs! I'se need to be punished!"
None of his words were taken seriously. The people in the Robotics Institute were very busy and down-to-earth individuals, who didn't see the point in having small talk with a koru.
For more than a thousand years, California had been a hub of technology and innovation. However, it truly began to thrive only after the establishment of the Black Empire, when the superior Black scientists replaced the intellectually inferior white men who were then transformed into koru.
The director of the institute was Sir Kenneth's father, Dr. DeShawn Parker, and he came in the courtyard to see Peon in person.
"Oh, yeah! You look great, boy!" Dr. DeShawn told Peon. "You are a fine koru specimen! Your only flaws are those whip marks that you have on your back. Were you whipped a lot, boy?"
"Yessuh!" Peon said.
"Naughty boy!"
"I'se sorry, suh, I'se deserve to be crucified!"
"Nonsense! I need you, boy, in order to train my machine learning algorithm! You see, I am building some robotic koru, basically koru made of steel, and I need an excellent living koru like you from which they can inspire from. I will input all the data related to your neural circuits, your muscle contractions, your motion, your leaps, your walk, so they will be just like you are, only better! They will be better than you, boy, because they will be made of steel, and you are made of lazy flesh! So get ready to be ass-fucked by technology!"
Peon didn't understand a word from the director's mouth, but something told him that he would have preferred to be crucified.