Our Happy Slave (4/?) {Redman} {MF md Rom} 
(c) October 2000 

Authors Note: I would be interested in any comments or 
corrections that readers might care to share with me. 
I can be reached at redman@seductive.com. 

Also, this work is not intended to be read by minors. 
If you are not legally an adult in your country or 
culture, please do not read it. This story is a work 
of fiction. Everything in it is a product of my own 
imagination and does not represent the way that anyone 
of any age should be treated or to represent a norm of 
acceptable behavior. 


Our Happy Slave 4/?


I woke up in the early morning hours on Saturday when 
Connie, our pretty little slave, began gnashing her 
teeth. Now normally this would not have awakened me, 
but the little minx had fallen asleep with my limp 
cock between her lips. For those that have never 
experienced the sensation, let me assure you that a 
nip on the head of you penis will definitely wake you 
up quicker than an alarm clock.

Having determined by feel that I still possessed all 
that I was born with, I lay back and tried to go back 
to sleep. But, my bladder was uncomfortably full. Plus 
my mouth tasted like last night's funk. So, I 
extricated myself from between my two women and went 
to shake hands with the president.

As I was brushing my teeth I felt two pointed little 
breast spear me from behind as the little nipper gave 
me a hug. She groaned once when she put her head on my 
shoulder and again when she plopped ungracefully on 
the can and began to pee.

"What's wrong sleepy-head? I know you don't have a 
hangover," I said as I tousled her hair. Having grown 
up with an alcoholic mother and father, Connie never 
touched the stuff.

"My neck hurts," said Grumpy. "I think I slept on it 
wrong." 

"Stand up here and let me look at you," I said as I 
drug her up, leaning her against the counter. I could 
tell with a gentle touch that her neck and shoulders 
were knotted, particularly on the left side. Nothing I 
couldn't work out, though it might take a little time.

I swatted her playfully on the ass (Why? Because it 
was there!) and told her, "Go lay on the table. I need 
to get an iron to get those wrinkles out." Even as she 
walked away flatfooted, rubbing her neck, I noticed 
that her bottom had a pretty little bounce. Perhaps it 
was because I had fucked it so well the night before.

She bitched and moaned as I began to break the knots 
down, but very soon she was putty in my experienced 
hands. By that time it was getting closer to the time 
we would have normally woken, so I went ahead and gave 
her the deluxe treatment while I had her completely at 
my disposal. I oiled her from head to toe and pampered 
her, rubbing away every possible concern.

While my strong hands worked on her limp form, my mind 
wandered. I know you are suppose to concentrate fully 
on the partner you are massaging, but it was still 
early and she felt so ripe beneath my hands. I thought 
about all the people who would have never been able to 
understand a relationship like ours. 

Our society would never openly condone the notion of 
slavery and certainly not the flavor we were 
exercising. Slavery was synonymous in most people's 
minds with brutality and abuse. Connie had suffered 
these things before she ever came to us, but we would 
never raise our hand against her - never had and never 
would. Most people's concepts of slavery could only 
embrace the master being massaged by the slave, never 
the slave being lovingly pampered by the master.

So, what was different in what we practiced? When 
Connie had come into our lives she was a pretty - if 
bedraggled - young girl. The daughter of two animals, 
she had married another animal to escape. The second 
hell was as bad as the first, except for the fact that 
she resided next door to us. After my wife had 
befriended her, I took matters into my own hands and 
sent animal number three scurrying away, his tail 
between his legs.

She had no skills, no home, no decent family, no 
friends, no education, no prospects, no hope and no 
chance. She was a stray cat that my wife took in from 
the cold. 

But, in the safety and security of our home she had 
blossomed into a beautiful young woman. Her 
personality began to shine and she proved to have an 
agile mind, quickly absorbing everything I gave her 
that was presented in an appropriate order. She was 
becoming an excellent cook and was very close to 
managing all the little details of our household. She 
had a flare for languages and music. She could 
memorize even lengthy narratives with much less 
trouble than I had ever mastered. In short, she was 
become a well-rounded, delightful young lady.

Oh, and the best part, she was also beginning to trust 
people for the first time. She had an unmistakable 
submissive bent and loved to serve us. She loved to 
cuddle and enjoyed human contact. And her libido - 
amazing. It had infected and invigorated both my wife 
and I and her considerable charms had proven 
themselves to be irresistible to the both of us.

I'm sure there are despicable people who, under the 
veil of slavery, seek to brutalize and inflict as much 
damage as they can. This was not what was practiced in 
our home and never would be. In return for a voluntary 
exchange for some of her freedom, our slave received 
protection, security and love. Her prior freedom had 
enslaved her to brutes and tyrants. Her current 
bondage was freely given and enslaved her to people 
who love her and to whom she is precious.

As I began to focus again on the luscious flesh under 
my fingers, I couldn't help but think, "She is our 
greyhound, our thoroughbred. A sleek, fine, young 
animal ready to run. She is the glue that binds us 
closer together - that makes us better than we were 
before."

I began to caress her back and arms lovingly, 
tenderly. I tried to imagine my love for her flowing 
out from my arms, through my hands and into her soft, 
radiant flesh. I felt a returning vibration start deep 
within her core and saw the muscles on her bottom 
tighten, grinding her furry matte into the thick 
padding of the table. Her entire body quivered 
slightly, like a bowl of gelatin struck with the flat 
of a spoon.

I laid my hand on Connie's back and squatted down to 
eye level, close enough to smell her hurried breaths. 
Her face was flushed; her eyes squenched tight and she 
had the look of a guilty child caught stealing candy. 
She was biting her lower lip hard and I could see her 
eyes darting back and forth behind her clenched lids. 
As she slowly relaxed again, I think she suddenly 
realized that I had stopped the massage some time ago 
and her eyes flew open. When she saw me staring into 
her face, she blushed deep and hard, like a virgin.

"What just happened, little one? Did you just cum?" I 
whispered wonderingly. I knew that I had been 
profoundly affected by her spontaneous demonstration 
of passion.

"I know I'm not supposed to - I know you weren't 
touching me that way. But it felt so good. I couldn't 
help myself, really I couldn't!" she pleaded.

I was so overcome by this creature that I game her a 
sign to roll over and as she did, delightfully, I drug 
her to the end of the table. If the table would have 
born both our weights, I would not have been able to 
resist even that long. I had to mount her quickly. As 
I drew her ankles up to my shoulders, my hard, 
throbbing cock penetrated her wet cunt smoothly and 
completely in one stroke. It was as though she had 
been created just to fuck me right here, right now, on 
this table.

She had enflamed me so much that I couldn't contain 
myself. I bucked up against her powerfully, using 
long, hard strokes. She began to cum again on the 
third or fourth stroke and she started convulsing into 
a series of rolling, aching orgasms. Her cunt was 
squeezing and throbbing along my cock so hard I felt 
my feet vibrating on the floor. Our crotches came 
together like cymbals, crashing in great pulsating 
waves. The bed was rocking with the violence of our 
thrusting, her hips struggling to meet mine ever 
higher and more forcefully.

When I couldn't stand it any more, I pulled her hard 
against me and buried my prick deep into her, slaying 
her with my sword. I squirted my spunk as far up her 
belly as my thighs could impel me. Her cervix spasmed 
around the engorged head of my dick as I pumped my 
essence exhaustively into her womb. It was a final, 
shattering climax for us both.

I don't know how I continued to stand. When my mind 
cleared, I realized that although our union had only 
lasted a matter of brief minutes, the intensity had 
been deeper than anything we had experienced together 
before. I was taken aback by the intensity of it. 

Connie's eyes were large and loving. I stroked her 
flanks and whispered my love to her, telling her she 
was a fine and lovely slave.

"Jesus Christ, y'all are loud in there, " my wife 
yelled from the adjoining room. Connie and I laughed 
softly, our eyes lingering over each other.

"If your finished schtupping the help, I could use a 
little breakfast here," she lamented loudly. 

My sweet little slave got a saucy, teasing look in her 
eye. She squeezed the muscles in her tight cunt and 
expelled my shriveling dick like it was a watermelon 
seed. The last I saw her, she was scampering toward 
the kitchen with her hands grasping between her legs, 
holding my sperm inside.

"Why do we keep a slave if I can't get a good Belgian 
waffle out of the deal" my bride exclaimed. 

I wondered if she would go on like this until her 
plate was served. Then I wonder, with a bit of a 
swagger, if she's like some pork sausage with her 
waffles. I begin to stiffen as I walked in to her.