Ursula Ch. 03

"Off you go, my dear," said the sturdy black girl, pushing blondie's head into her muff.

"Thank you N'Vala....mmmph.....mmm....mmph." Ursula's words were cut off as her mouth was forced against the wet pussy in front of her.

N'Vala loved to dominate, and even took control when rutting with the owners of the villa. A new, naked white girl was a perfect treat for her to indulge herself with. After a few minutes, she pulled the British woman onto her back on a pile of old sacks in the corner of the room, and then squatted down on Ursula's face, looking down towards a delightful white pussy.

"Off you go, posh girl," said the alpha as she began to play with the cunt in front of her. Ursula realised this was an opportunity for release, and so began to lick ferociously. She could feel one hand rubbing her clitoris, while the fingers of the other hand explored inside her. In order to make sure things didn't stop, she consumed the clitoris between her lips as though she was ravenously enjoying the most delicious meal.

Ursula could feel N'Vala orgasming as the black girl's pussy pressed even harder into her face.

"Well done, posh girl," said the alpha, getting up and putting on her smock. Was Ursula going to be cheated of her climax?

Suddenly, she felt herself being roughly pulled face down across N'Vala's lap, her bare bottom exposed.

The black girl began to slap her buttocks quickly, making Ursula yelp. Every few seconds, she would stop and thrust her fingers between Ursula's legs, fiddling with her sex and playing her like a musical instrument. Just as the naked white girl came close, the stimulation would stop and the spanking would start again.

The bare girl was edged for several minutes, until N'Vala flipped her over, face up, and began to play with her clitoris again.

"What do you want me to do, little Miss Posh?" asked the alpha, withdrawing her fingers. "You'll have to be quick, as I have other tasks to attend to."

"Please give me release!" begged Ursula, her legs apart, quivering and dripping with perspiration.

"You need to be more specific, otherwise I'll just leave you hanging," said N'Vala. "And if you get caught trying to pleasure yourself, you'll get the paddle again."

The white slave remembered being punished for this very thing the day before, and receiving twenty swats across her beautiful bottom by the sadistic instrument. Her buttocks were still tender. It was clear she had to humiliate herself if she wanted to orgasm.

"Please play with my pussy lips until I come shrieking and bucking like the filthiest whore!" begged Ursula.

"That's better," said the black girl, who began to furiously finger the well brought up white girl. "Make sure you look me in the eye."

Ursula was being ravished naked for the pleasure of another slave girl, begging to be played with, looking into the face of the black woman who was enjoying her. She couldn't possibly feel more owned and controlled. As these thoughts went through her head, she went over the edge, bucking her hips and screaming as she saw N'Vala laughing at her.

"All done now, posh girl," said the black woman, lifting her up by her hair and spanking her backside. "Off you go."

Ursula hurried back to the kitchen, rubbing her reddened bum cheeks, utterly humiliated, but happy to have been given the most intense orgasm.

******

She could feel K'Dela, N'Kusa's brother, thrusting inside her. Her skin was dripping with perspiration. Ursula was on all fours, smiling and grunting with each stroke.

K'Dela was forceful in ravishing her, but he also knew how to tantalise a slave girl. As soon as Ursula entered his bedroom, he grabbed her by the hair and put his hand to her pussy.

"I shall play your cunt like a musical instrument, slave girl," said the virile, erect African. And for several minutes he did, edging the white slave girl several times, until she was ready to pop.

He then threw her onto the bed, pulled her up on all fours, and lined himself up behind her. She felt his cock slide into her. His strong wrists held her hips tightly.

In and out went his girthful manhood, his groin slapping against her buttocks like a metronome.

Her full breasts bounced with the rhythm of his fucking. She felt the rough slap of his hand against her bare bottom every now and then whenever he felt she needed motivating.

Suddenly he flipped her onto her back, pushed his cock back inside her, pulled her legs around his neck, and commenced ramming the owned white girl. He enjoyed the sight of her breasts jiggling as he thrust. She enjoyed looking at his muscular, dark skin contrasting with her delicate white flesh. He pinned her arms down with his powerful hands.

She was his plaything, a toy to do with whatever he chose. A slave girl. Owned and restrained. Being fucked like the lewdest tart.

Over the edge she went, screaming as he continued to fuck her. Another minute and he withdrew, firing his seed across her stomach and her breasts. He laid back on the bed next to her.

"Thank you, my lord," said the temporary property of the villa. "You know how to make a slave girl moan and scream."

He sat up, grabbed her hair, pulling her off the bed and slapping her backside.

"My other sister is waiting to enjoy you," said K'Dela. "Hurry to her room."

The nude English slave girl hurried off without stopping to wipe the cum from her person.

******

Ursula had thrown herself into pleasuring N'Kusa's siblings for three days. It was felt she had earned her passage.

The Maid entered the kitchen, where the nude white girl was scrubbing the floor.

"Time to send you on your way," said N'Lasa. "I've made arrangements to get you all the way to P'Kula."

Ursula felt great relief. A slave girl travelling on her own all that distance was at her most vulnerable. Safe passage for the whole journey was more than she could have asked for.

"Come with me, and I'll show you your transport. We already have your awful metal jug stowed. And we need to get you dressed properly."

Not only was Ursula going to be driven for the rest of the journey, she was also going to be allowed garments!

N'Lasa walked purposefully, with the nude Ursula trotting along behind. They went from the kitchen, out through the rear entrance, into the yard.

Ursula's heart sank.

A slave trader stood with his female assistants, each of them holding a fearsome looking rattan cane.

Next to them was a line of six beautiful black slave girls, all naked. They were manacled and coffled together by a long chain going from collar to collar. The end of the chain was attached to the slaver's horse and cart.

"Let's get you dressed smartly for the journey," laughed the slave trader. "In P'Kula, manacles are the fashion choice for any stylish slave."

His assistants had Ursula fitted in less than a minute, attaching the manacles to her wrists and ankles.

"Dressed up like a true Princess," laughed N'Lasa. "Wearing the latest fashion from P'Kula slave market. They find it much easier to manage slave girls when they are fitted like this."

The long coffle chain was fed through the link in Ursula's slave collar.

"Your silly jug has been loaded onto the slaver's wagon," said N'Lasa. "I've sent a letter to N'Dula's relative to pick you up from the slave auctions. The deal I've made with the slaver is that, if the letter is not produced when he gets to the slave market, then he gets to sell you for profit on the auction block."

The naked English slave girl stood frozen to the spot.

N'Lasa called to one of the other Maids.

"Did you send the letter, first class?"

"I'm sorry, I misunderstood," replied the other Maid. "I sent the letter third class to save a little money."

"Gosh, that is most unfortunate," laughed N'Lasa, turning to look at Ursula. "Third class post in Natawe is very unreliable. You'll be lucky if the letter gets there before you. In fact, you'll be fortunate if it arrives at all."

Both of the Maids laughed heartily at the situation. Ursula was terrified about the prospect of being sold into slavery forever.

The slave trader stepped up onto the cart and pulled the reins. The horses moved forward slowly, pulling the wagon, which pulled the line of slaves. Ursula trotted off to her fate - coffled, manacled and chained.

******

The coffle marched down the highway after the cart. It was not very fast, but quick enough to keep the slave girls on their toes.

Free citizens travelling down the road had a beautiful view of bottoms wobbling and breasts bouncing as the girls trotted forward to keep up with the horse and cart. If anything, it would ensure that the slave girls arrived at the auction house fit and toned.

Ursula was distressed. The faster they travelled, the more likely that they would arrive before the letter. If that happened, she would be sold off, and would likely never know freedom again.

The only plan available to her was to slow down the coffle. The only tool at her disposal was her naked body.

Think, Ursula, think!

She pretended to stumble, claiming she had injured herself, but the slave master's assistants lifted her up by her hair and berated her, knowing full well that she was malingering.

A while later, she tried this again. One of the free black women working for the slave master again lifted her up, and ordered her to display herself. Ursula knew the drill. She stood with her legs slightly apart and her hands behind her head, pushing out her bust.

The African woman stood inches from Ursula's face and shouted at her.

"SLAVE GIRL PICK UP PACE OR GET BUM WHIPPED!!" barked the free woman. "BUM BLACK AND BLUE BY TIME GET P'KULA!"

The nude white girl stood frozen to the spot. Her submission and vulnerability were unfortunately arousing her again, which the free woman noticed.

"DIRTY SLAVE GIRLS THINK OF NOTHING BUT FUCKY-FUCK!" the African woman continued. "JUST WANT COCK IN PUSSY AND CLITTY RUBBED!"

The humiliation was intense. Standing naked, coffled and manacled, displaying herself, reinforced her ownership and lack of agency.

The wagon moved on again, and so did the coffle. Ursula felt her bottom being slapped by the girl chained behind her.

"You'll get a dose of the strap if you don't pick up the pace," said the nude black slave girl, as they both trotted down the road.

"I'm in a pickle," said Ursula, her bosoms bouncing as she hurried along. "If we get there too soon, my owner's relative won't collect me, and I'll be sold at auction."

Another slap, slightly harsher.

"If you carry on, we might all get our backsides tanned," said the black girl.

Sometimes, stubborn slave girls have to learn the hard way.

"Ouch!" shouted Ursula, holding her foot and sitting down on the ground. "I've trodden on something sharp!"

Again, the coffle stopped. The slave master's assistant stomped towards Ursula. She grabbed the nude white girl's foot and held it up. There was clearly nothing wrong. She called back to the slave master.

"WHITE GIRL NEED GOOD WALLOP!"

The slave master nodded and left his assistant to sort out the details. Ursula was removed from the coffle and dragged by two of the free women to a nearby tree. A rope was thrown over the tree and secured. The end was then threaded through the manacles on Ursula's ankles.

The slave master came over, grabbed the rope and pulled.

Ursula went over on her back as her ankles were swept away. Gradually her legs were pulled up, then her bottom, and finally she was suspended upside down by her ankles.

The free black woman produced an awful looking heavy, thick leather strap from the cart.

"How many do you think this bratty slave deserves?" asked the slave trader.

"Twenty for first bum wallop," said his assistant. "Double next time."

Ursula was terrified. She felt the strap tapping her bottom lightly to line up for a good swing. Then nothing for a few seconds.

WHACK!

Ursula yelped loudly, trying to reach her bottom with her hands to rub it. The sting was awful. The trader's two other assistants held her arms so they didn't get in the way.

She could feel a light pat of the leather strap as the black woman lined up for the next swing.

******

The coffle moved on. This time there were no hold ups.

"It'll only get worse for you if you carry on," said the black girl behind her. "It doubles up each time until you get the message. The slave trader and those awful women working for him want to make as much money as they can. Time wasted on dithering slave girls is lost profit."

Ursula rubbed her bum cheeks as she trotted along.

"They're bright red like a ripe tomato," giggled the black girl. "And just as delicious, I'm sure. I can't wait to slap and fondle them later."

Ursula blushed a little. The girls on the coffle were all beautiful and slim. She knew that, as soon as they got their hands on her, the aphrodisiac would take over. The girl in front looked around, eyeing Ursula up and down and smiling. She then turned around and put her fingers to her crotch as they trotted along. The girl's arm moved up and down gently. She was clearly masturbating, in public, as she trotted.

"There aren't many pleasures available when you're on the coffle," said the girl behind. "You have to relieve the stress when you get the chance. They dose us up with the aphrodisiac every night when we stop for the night. It keeps us compliant, and makes it hard for a girl to think. By the time we get to P'Kula, we'll be wanking on the auction block as they sell us off. I've heard all about it from the other girls on the chain."

Ursula had to think on her feet. She could keep up with her current tactic. Being strung up by her ankles and receiving the leather strap would certainly slow down the coffle. But each time the punishment would be doubled. Forty next time. Eighty the time after that. Then one hundred and sixty.

There really wasn't much mileage with this strategy. She had to think up something else.

******

"My name is N'Fala," said the slave girl behind Ursula. "How does a posh English lady end up naked on the chain in Natawe?"

"I'm Ursula," replied the white girl. "I'm only supposed to be enslaved temporarily as part of an agreement with my Mistress, N'Dula. This is apparently the only way for a naked slave girl to get to P'Kula, according to the last person who had dominion over me."

"You're in a very risky place," said N'Fala. "Slave girls are in a very precarious position if they're commanded to make a journey like this. You really should understand that your previous life as a free woman could be ended with the snap of a slave collar and a wax stamp on a Deed of Title. It's all beyond your control."

"But how can I slow down the wagon?" asked Ursula. "That's my only means of getting to the end of my contract of slavery."

"There will be other opportunities," said N'Fala. "For now you'll just have to learn to keep your big mouth shut and do as you're told."

"How did you end up here?" asked the white slave. "Your accent sounds like you're not from here. If I didn't know better, I'd say you grew up in England."

"I spent my youth in British public schools," said N'Fala. "I really shouldn't be here either. My scheming sister decided she wanted me out of the way, and so this is where I have ended up. I also need a plan to get out of this, but it certainly doesn't involve getting my bottom reddened with the strap."

******

N'Fala and her sister, N'Jata never got on. This was an understatement of the most gargantuan proportion.

N'Jata was born to their father's first wife, and so she had nothing but resentment towards her new stepmother and any offspring she produced. N'Jata was two when N'Fala was born, and the parents had to keep the elder sister away from the crib as she was clearly intending to cause her harm.

As they grew older, it became less physically violent and more manipulative. N'Jata would steal something from her father and plant it in N'Fala's room. She would make up fictions about what her little sister had done.

Eventually, their father sent them to separate private schools. N'Jata in France, and N'Fala in England. That gave a good deal of peace during term time, but life would always become fraught again when the two sisters returned for the school holidays.

N'Fala had learnt many ways of avoiding her sister's jealousy. She always locked her room so that nothing could be placed in there, and nothing stolen. She always checked her bag before leaving the house in case her elder sibling had placed anything in there. Mostly she stayed out of the way whenever N'Jata was around.

After they left school, and the two sisters returned home permanently, the old feud started again. N'Jata had grown stocky as she grew older. N'Fala had her mother's genes and matured very differently. She was remarkably slim and beautiful. This added to the animosity that N'Jata directed towards her.

It went on for another three years until their parents had had enough.

Mum and dad felt that this should stop, and the two daughters should learn to get along. They knew that N'Jata was the cause of the conflict, but they didn't want to have favourites, and there was too much stress whenever they were together.

The two girls were booked by their parents on a summer holiday as roommates in Natawe's capital for a week. It was a packed program of events, visiting Royal Palaces and museums every day. They had both reached twenty one years of age, so surely they could show the world how grown up they could be?

N'Fala protested for days, as she knew what her sister would get up to. She took every precaution possible. Her suitcase had a padlock fitted. She rehearsed in her head all of the things that she should prepare for based on past experience.

******

On the journey to the capital, N'Jata seemed more relaxed than N'Fala had expected. In fact, she seemed quite amenable and friendly. This made N'Fala even more suspicious that something was up.

"Let's make a truce," said N'Jata as they travelled. "We've wasted so many years with all of this fighting. Maybe we should start afresh?"

N'Fala still had her guard up.

"I've tried many times to make peace," said the younger sister. "You seem to have a hatred of me that I cannot do anything about."

"I've certainly caused you a lot of pain," said the older sibling. "I know it was down to me. I was jealous of your mother, and thought I was losing my daddy when he remarried."

"That's really unfair. My mother always treated you as her own."

"I understand that now," said N'Jata. "All I can do is say that I'm sorry and try to prove that I can be different."

N'Fala was dumbfounded. Her sister was showing some honesty, and actually apologised. This was a major event. N'Fala was the more mature of the two, and realised that a breakthrough like this had to be rewarded.

"Thank you for apologising," said the younger girl. "I realise it took a lot to say that."

******

The first three days of the holiday went the same way, with N'Jata making a huge effort. She paid for meals and gave N'Fala first choice at everything. Absolutely perfect.

Perhaps this was the time to heal old wounds and bury old arguments?

By the fourth day N'Jata gave her a hug, and she reciprocated. N'Fala sent a letter to her parents saying that the holiday was a great success, and they were getting on famously.

"This is the best holiday, dear sister," she said to N'Jata. "I've always wanted to have a sibling that was close, that I could hug and tell her my secrets."

"I've wanted it for some time," said her elder sibling. "I was just too stubborn to do the right thing. When our parents booked the holiday, it was an opportunity, and I knew it had to come from me first."

"Thank you, sister," said N'Fala, giving N'Jata the biggest hug. "I feel so free now that we've got all this animosity out of the way."