Sadist Through Time

Rage, of course, kept asking when I would be talking to Master Reginald. And I, of course, kept promising to do it very soon. My game came to an end when Rage didn't fuck me one night. He was beginning to think that I wasn't going to keep my promise.

That night I told him, "Reggie is coming down in a week. As the cooler season has started, I'm going to host a party. I will speak to him then about you going to work for Mr. Towner in Boston." After hearing that, he practically ripped his clothes off to pleasure me. I'd won again. That desperate hope made him fuck me harder than he ever had.

The party of course was scheduled. All our friends from Kingston came up. The food was the very best and the first rum of the season was flowing. After the meal, instead of cards and music, I suggested that Rage read some of the poetry. I wanted to show off our big bright slave. As we all seated ourselves in the salon, I placed myself in the one chair that Rage would have to walk past to get to the front of the room.

I dropped my fan and of course Rage bent over to pick it up, as I knew he would. Without even thinking about it, he put his hand on my shoulder as he handed the fan back to me. I screamed bloody murder.

How dare a slave touch me! How dare he pollute me! The group of men present were on him like a shot. He was hung from a tree in the back of the house within the hour. As the rope was being slipped over his head, he looked at me with those beautiful gold colored eyes and I saw him wonder what he had done wrong. Stupid man.

Later that night, Reginald and I burned all the letters that I'd written to him about my little adventure. We laughed.