Date: Fri, 3 Oct 2003 16:51:45 -0700 (PDT) From: Jesse Subject: Cyber Slave -- Chapter 7 Cyber Slave - Chapter 7 - The Master Steps In To the Reader: This is a different kind of chapter. I cannot entertain you with more of my adventures in submission and sexual degradation, since I am benched for a while. In presenting this chapter, I am indulging myself, since he wrote most of it. I love to hear his voice and I love to feel him taking charge of my life. He is also taking this opportunity to teach me. I hope you enjoy his writing as much as I do. Daily Sex Report, 10/01/03 Late in the morning Rafe wakes me. Grandmom and the physician assistant are with him. The P.A. checks my eyes and reflexes, and gets me up to test the ribs. I ask him when can I go back to school and work. He says the doctor will probably give me a good idea when I see him tomorrow, but right now they don't want me moving around a lot with this concussion. Grandmom brings me something to eat before I take more pills and go back to sleep Email from the Predator, 10/02/03 I am much concerned to hear that you will miss one, two, or maybe more days of work (and pay?) and of college, as a result of Deuce's attentions. His reply to my angry remonstrations says in effect "Don't worry, he'll be all right in a couple of days." Even if true that still equates to unacceptable damage to my property. He also claims to have pulled "that psycho Willie" off you before he could do "too much damage." Does that square with your own perception? I see nothing in your report to suggest that. At the moment I have not forbidden Deuce to contact you again, any more than I have forbidden you to answer any call he might make. Before doing that, I want a detailed report from you on your physical condition after you have seen the doc, AND a report on your feelings about the whole incident. At the moment I know nothing of your reactions. Do you see it as a magnificent realisation of long-held sexual fantasies? Which nevertheless should never be repeated? Or which you cannot wait to explore further? Or is it a nightmare of pain and degradation such as you wish never to experience ever again? Is big brutal Deuce the subject of masturbation fantasies still? Or do you hate his guts for what he did to you? Or are you still so confused and hurting that you don't know what you think? Either way, boy, I need to know. Even if I decide that you will not be allowed to offer yourself to Deuce again, I still want you to do something, which you may find surprising, or even shocking - but you will do it anyway. It is this: at the earliest possible opportunity I want you to go into the copy center and hand Deuce a slip of folded-over paper on which is written just two words "Thankyou Sir." If you do this with your face still puffy and bruised, your lip split and your forehead with a dressing still, so much the better. Doing this is an Obedience Test! If he should gesture for you to go round to the loading bay you will shake your head and murmur "Sorry" and leave immediately. Is that clear? It occurs to me that Rafe may disapprove of this and try and dissuade you. That is entirely understandable, given the way he looks after you, but remember you do as I tell you, not as Rafe advises. Now, finally, I want to make sure you fully understand the "sub text" of one incident. Having picked you up off the street, stripped you naked, trussed you up, chained you down in the van and transported you like a piece of cargo, Deuce finally had you on your knees before him in the garage. And what didn't he do? He might have held your face and kissed you aggressively, forcing his tongue into your mouth with deliberate obscenity. Or he might have mauled your muscular young body with his big hands, enjoying the feel of your helplessness in his grip. He could have smashed his fist into your face (he's capable of it!) or kicked you in the guts or simply knocked you sprawling on the floor. But he did none of these things. Instead he just slapped your face. Hard, I don't doubt and I bet it made your teeth rattle and your cheek burn like hell. But still just a slap in the face. And then he did it again. And again And again And yet again. He was communicating something to you. Something so important that he repeated it five times. BUT DID YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT HE WAS "SAYING"? Tell me what you think it was. Remember, this is an unlettered brute without your college education. The language he speaks is Violence. He was taught it as a kid and then as a youngster at college (or what you would call a Young Offenders Correction Facility). He graduated in Violence at University (i.e. State Prison) and it is a natural way for him to communicate. So I repeat, what exactly do you think it was he wanted to say to you that was so important that he said it five times? I've never met the man but I'd be willing to bet that given the choice of black bitch cunt or white boy asshole he'd choose cunt every time. But what the hell, one moist warm fuckhole is much like another once you've got your cock in it, so if you are offered whiteboy mouth and ass, why not? But there's more to it than that isn't there? For a man like Deuce, to have a whiteboy present himself wearing a dog's collar like a sign around his neck saying, "Abuse Me," well it is just too good to miss isn't it? Remember how harshly, even savagely, Rafe responded the first time you offered him your slavecollar? Good, kind, caring, educated Rafe! Even he felt a frisson of the blackman's revenge on whitey, eh? So imagine how Deuce would feel after a lifetime of scorn from white bossmen! You may be shocked to hear that the whole business of pissing in your mouth was something I particularly asked him to do. I do not think he would have thought of it himself, but judging by his delighted reaction to your evident horror, I think it is something he would love to do again, given the chance! Note too what he did with you at the end. You were not returned to the pick up point, oh no! You were dumped in a back alley, by the dumpsters, like a parcel of garbage. I guess you were lucky they did not tip you into one of the skips head first and leave you to haul your aching body out of the filth as best you could! But you've got to hand it to Deuce haven't you? He may be an unlettered brute, but boy! He has a finely tuned sense of poetic rightness! Daily Sex Report, 10/02/03 Late in the morning, Rafe comes back, wakes me up, helps me to dress, then drives me to the sports medicine doctor's office. The doctor removes the bandages and dressings, checks me over, doing all kinds of mental alertness tests. They give me another x-ray of chest and skull. He says the concussion is moderate, and I must restrict movement for a while - no work for another week, no practice, no workouts, and no driving until Sunday. I can go to class as long as someone drives me to campus, starting tomorrow. Two ribs on my right side are cracked and the rest badly bruised. He wants to see me again in a week before releasing me to any further activity. On the way home, I am very upset, and tell Rafe I am worried about losing my job and losing my place on the wrestling team, not to mention the loss of income, which I can't afford right now. He says he will set up meetings with my boss and the wrestling coach. Email from the Predator to Deuce, copy to me, 10/03/03 You stupid, stupid, boneheaded, pea brained, dumbfuck! I have just got a full medical report on my boy's injuries and I am so mad. You ought to be strung up and publicly flogged till the blood runs down to your heels for what you did to that boy. And as for your psycho friend, he should be strung up by the balls and left to rot! Mind you I blame myself too. Rafe warned me you were not to be trusted but I just thought he was being over protective. Lucky for you the police were not involved. With your police record you would not have got off lightly on a charge of criminal assault. What saved you of course is the damage such a charge would have done to Jesse. You know from his daily reports to me that he gets up at the crack of dawn to do manual labour in order to earn a few dollars to be able to put himself through college. Now, with his ribs strapped up he cannot do any work for at least a week and even then will only be on half pay doing clerical work. Concussion means he cannot study and he fears he will lose his place on the wrestling team, which means so much to him. And all because you cannot control yourself or your animal friend. I am ordering the boy to refuse all future contact with you and trust you will keep your distance from him. It is such a pity. That kid admired your powerful body so much and was really turned on by the thought of being sexually used by you. You could have had your fun with him once or twice a week for as long as you wanted to, pumping him so full of your spunk - and that of your friends - that he would have been so bloated with nigger cum that it dribbled out of him at both ends. All it needed was a bit of self-discipline - and some control over freaks like Willie. As it is the poor kid never even got to lick the fuck-sweat off your manly chest as he longed to do. You are a big man Deuce, are you big enough to help him out by putting $100 dollars in an envelope for him? Sure as hell you owe it to him. Email from the Predator, 10/03/03 As you will have seen from your copy of my note to Deuce, there is to be no further contact between you and I retract my order for you to hand him a "Thank you" note. Now that I have a clearer picture of the damage he did to you, I regret having exposed you to that danger despite Rafe's warning. My only consolation is that you spontaneously ejaculated while they were working you over, so obviously you enjoyed being roughed up and nigger-fucked, to some extent! I have no problem with their sexual abuse, with thrashing you, with tying you to the fuck-horse by your tits, with slapping you about a bit and pissing down your throat. That all par for the course and what you needed. But the rib-kicking and head injuries are unforgivable. In the unlikely event that he does try to give you cash to help you over your problems, you will accept it - and then you WILL say "thank you." No histrionic refusals. Niggerfucked white trash like you doesn't get allowed noble gestures! Oh, and if you really don't understand what it means when a black man slaps a white boy's face, it is simply his way of showing contempt for you. So much contempt that it took five slaps to express all of it! ***** Yes, readers, the master has stepped in. Makes you wonder what he would actually do to Deuce if he lived close enough to get his hands on him. If any of you are reading the chapters of The Humiliator (Nifty, May 6, 2002) daily along with me, you know what intense cruelty my master is capable of. I can fantasize about Deuce being secured in the master's punishment room for a weekend. Oh yes! But are there words of loving concern for me. Oh no! I am definitely made to feel my place as slave Niggerfucked Whoreslut. His only concern is that his "property" has been damaged and is of limited utility for a while.