Date: Sat, 26 Jan 2013 22:04:50 -0800 (PST) From: Christian Debus Subject: Wickus Chapter 3 WICKUS "A Tale of Black Masters and white slaves" Chapter 3: Master Thandiwe This is a story of erotic fiction and is meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years. Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): January, 2013 Read all my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas in this story are purely fictitious and belong to the writer's imagination. Please don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures." Note: I'm sure we'd all agree that Nifty.org provides a wonderful service to both writers and readers. - And it'd free! But even a free service incurs some costs and if you'd like to show your appreciation for the pleasure you get from reading the many stories in Nifty's archives, you might consider making a donation to help with the group's operating costs at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Chapter 3: Master Thandiwe "I ordered you to undress me boy! Now move yourself or I'll add extra strokes of the cane to your sorry ass over and above the ten your Master has already ordered for you." The threat of extra punishment obviously frightens Wickus. I see from the widening of his eyes and the blanching of his face that Wickus is terrified. And to emphasise this, his magnificent frame trembles violently. Through his tear-filled eyed, he pleads with me. "Please Master, forgive me! I am sorry Master that your slave has displeased you. I will do better, Master, But please Master spare me any extra strokes of the cane." Poor Wickus! The slave looks so crestfallen and his youthful vulnerability is painfully obvious. He has the body and physique of a mature male and it is easy to forget that he is little more than a boy. But his boyish charm and youthful wistfulness remind me that he has the emotional outlook of a teenager. Momentarily, I put myself in his place and try to imagine how it would be to suddenly find yourself ripped away from the life you'd always lived and torn from the comforting bosom of your loving family and enslaved. How frightening and bewildering that must be for this new slave. But this is the "new order" of things - we blacks rule supreme and our former white overlords are now our servants. I must never forget that; anyway I know my father won't allow me to. Wickus and I were born into vastly different worlds and we are governed by two different sets of rules. Our destinies are interconnected but widely divergent. It is my destiny to rule as a black master and it is Wickus's destiny to serve me as a white slave. Nothing I can ever do will change that. And to be truthful I wouldn't want this to change. Black Rule is too entrenched in my psyche to see me ever abandon its concepts. Nevertheless I feel some sympathy for this young, vulnerable slave whose tearstained face looks imploringly into my own begging for mercy. Not unkindly, I ask him. "The cane frightens you that much, Wickus?" "Yes Master!" "Why is that slave? Is the pain of it so terrible?" Wickus bites his lip and hesitates to answer and I sense his reluctance. Perhaps he's afraid of angering me by giving me the wrong reply. But I expect complete honesty from him. For the next two months he is to serve me both as my personal body slave and as my bed-buck. Therefore, there can be no secrets between us; I will expect and demand the absolute truth from my slave at all times. As his Master, I have to have confidence that he is being completely honest with me. The relationship between a Master and his slave has to be built on the slave's unstinting loyalty and unquestioning obedience to his Master and the Master's ability to trust his slave implicitly. And that is the type of relationship I want with my slave, Wickus. I spell this out to him. "Wickus, as you are to serve me as my personal slave while I am home from university, I need to set some ground rules for your behaviour. The first is that you are to serve me loyally and obediently. Whenever, I give you an order I expect instant obedience and no questions asked. A slave doesn't need to know the reason behind any order his Master gives him. He need only know that the order is to be carried out immediately. Similarly, whenever, I ask you anything, you are to answer me without hesitation and truthfully even if you fear that your answer will offend me. Do you understand what I'm saying to you, slave?" "Yes Master Thandiwe, I understand!" "Remember always that I am the Master and you are the slave and all will be well between us. You'll find me to be a just but firm Master. I will praise you when it's deserved but equally I won't hesitate to punish you if you disappoint me. Do you understand me, Wickus?" "I understand Master and I promise to be a good slave!" "Good boy! Your answer pleases me. I'm sure we'll get along just fine. Now I'll ask you again and you will answer truthfully. Does the threat of the cane really frighten you?" "Yes Master!" "And why is that, Wickus?" "Master, it's the pain that the cane inflicts especially when the Master administers it. Master has a powerful arm and all his slaves fear him, Master." This comes as no surprise to me. I know my father is a stern disciplinarian. He was with both his black sons and I can imagine how much more so he is with his white slaves. I don't envy them; they have every reason to be very afraid of my father. "Describe the pain, Wickus." "Master it is excruciating. I can't put into words how it feels. But as the cane cuts into your ass you experience the most dreadful pain. You can't stop yourself from screaming and even though you know that the Master can't show you any mercy you still beg for it." "But the pain soon dissipates, does it not, slave?" "No Master! The pain lingers for some days. At first you feel your ass is aflame but that does ease until you are left with a dull ache. But those first few days your ass is so sore that you can't sit on it and you have to sleep on your belly." "I see! Then the incentive is to perform your duties and not to anger your betters. Is that not so slave?" "Yes Master!" "I will expect as much from you Wickus." "Yes Master Thandiwe. I will be a good slave." "Then be a good slave and undress me ready for my shower. After which you will dress me before I go down to dinner with my parents and brother." I see the look of uncertainty in my slave's eyes; something is troubling Wickus. Then, I recall how a short time ago, he'd mentioned that he must report to Gerd at 6.30 PM for inspection and the allocation of his dining-room duties. I look at my watch and see that it is 6.25 PM. Obviously Wickus can't be in two places at once. He can't be showering and dressing me and reporting to Gerd. I decide that Wickus is my slave and therefore his first responsibility is to me. My father has loaned him to me for the duration of my vacation and I will decide what duties he'll perform and when he'll perform them. I won't have Gerd dictate what my slave will do. "You may make a start and undress me, boy!" Wickus is unused to being a body slave and is uncertain as to where he should start. He looks askance at me and I direct him. "Remove my shirt first!" The slave stands just inches away from me as he unbuttons my shirt beginning at the top and works downwards. At first he is nervous - his body is quivering - and he is all fingers as he fumbles his way through this simple task. I reach out and touch his chest and tell him to. "Relax boy! I'm not going to punish you." Shyly, he looks at me with just a hint of a smile and thanks me most profusely. "Thank you Master! I'm sorry Master but this is all so new to me and I am very nervous." "Why are you nervous, Wickus?" "I don't want to displease you Master. I want you to be happy with your slave, Master." "I know you are new to this Wickus and I will cut you some slack. But you must relax and learn your duties quickly. I don't want to be forever instructing you in what you must do. But this first time, I will guide you through the routine of undressing me, showering me and then dressing me. But after that, I will expect you to know." "Yes Master! I will learn Master." "Good boy! Now ease the shirt off my upper body. Do it slowly and carefully." It feels so good to have this young, white slave undress me. Of course, he is inexperienced - and nervous - but he very gently slides the shirt from my shoulders and down my arms as he eases it from my torso. I watch the sensuous play of his firm muscles as he does so. And I am gratified to see that he is rampantly erect. Obviously his close proximity to me is affecting him. For my part, the closeness of Wickus's naked body to my own is similarly affecting me. My own cock is straining to break free from the constricting confines of my clothing and is tent poling my denims. I order him to kneel before me and to remove my shoes and socks. As he does so, I look down on the wide shoulders, the broad sweep of his naked back and the rounded curves of his ass. The stainless steel slave collar around his neck reflects the honey-gold of his tanned body. He really is a beautiful slave! As I stand bare chested and barefooted, Wickus removes the belt from my denims and unzips the fly. He slides the trousers down my legs into a crumpled heap around my ankles and lifts my feet free of them. Now, all that separates me from total nudity are my colourful, boxer shorts. Wickus hesitates unsure of his next move. For my part I just want to get naked and up close to my new slave's body. His upturned face looks at me and asks the unspoken question. "What am I do now Master?" I nod at him and instruct him. "Continue boy!" Wickus hooks his fingers into the waistband of my underpants and almost seductively eases them over my ass and down my legs until like him, I stand totally nude. Released from its prison my cock springs free and pokes directly towards my slave's face. Then shyly, he leans forward and kisses the glans of my cock. The touch of his moist lips is electrifying and sparks of unimaginable pleasure surge through my body. As my breathing becomes more ragged, my body arches backwards and I hear my soft moan of appreciation as the tip of his tongue flicks provocatively at my piss-slit. Time stands still and Wickus's actions seem to last for long minutes rather than the briefest of seconds. Then, unexpectedly, the slave lowers his head and kisses my bare feet in servile homage. "Thank you, Master Thandiwe!" "Why are you thanking me Wickus?" My voice is hoarse from my lust filled emotions. "Why, Master for making me your slave and allowing me to serve you. Thank you, Master for being so patient with me.' Wickus's answer is genuine and heartfelt. But I wonder what I have done to earn such affection so early in our relationship. After all we have known each other for less than two hours and yet he enthusiastically pays homage to me. This slave is an enigma. However, it appears that he is a willing pupil and a fast learner. And I can't complain about that. Nevertheless, I am touched by Wickus's devotion and his words of gratitude. Again, I think on how devastating it must be for such a young man to be enslaved so unexpectedly. Once more he spontaneously leans forward to kiss my feet in supplication. Then with lightning clarity, I see the reason for his gratitude. His upturned ass is marked with the bluish-yellow bruises of his older beatings and superimposed over these are the angry red stripes of his more recent caning. And his bowed shoulders carry the marks of our Xhosa housekeeper, Mistress Mandisa's slave-crop. Dad had mentioned that he'd bought Wickus two weeks ago. Obviously in those two weeks, the slave had been punished often - as part of his learning to be a dutiful slave - and he'd suffered much. I try and put myself in Wickus's place and imagine his new life as he settled into slavery. This was a forlorn task as I could only guess at his feelings of hopelessness and misery as he adjusted his mindset to that of a slave as, at the same time, his body was cruelly punished by my father and Mandisa. Quite obviously, Wickus deprived of the love of family and friends, has been denied any displays of human compassion or kindness. I'd not treated him unkindly, although I now recall, with just a twinge of guilt, that I'd slapped his face when he'd hesitated to remove his loincloth. But that's normal practice between a Master and his slave and it's simply meant to focus the slave's attention on his duties. And no doubt, I will slap his face and ass many times over the next two months of my vacation. But that is just par for the course! It would seem that my benign handling of Wickus has paid an unintentional dividend. In his gratitude to me, he has accepted me as his Master and he promises to serve me well. Most assuredly, I will keep the slave to his word. But time is moving on and I still need to shower and dress for dinner. I look at my watch and see I still have thirty minutes before I have to appear in the dining-room. I order Wickus to his feet and tell him to follow me into the shower. I wait as Wickus turns on the faucets and adjusts the water temperature until it is just right. As he does so, I watch the warm water spray onto his tangled mass of blond curls before it flows down over the plains and valleys of his body. I watch as the water beads on the honey-gold of his flawless skin before joining into little rivulets that trickle down through the dividing line of his pectoral muscles and over the ridges of his abdominals before cascading like a waterfall from the end of his now semi-flaccid cock. Wickus truly is a beautiful slave and I salivate at the sight of his naked perfection, Would that I had time to have him kneel before me and to take my hungry cock into the warm embrace of his moist mouth. How I long to have his ruby-red lips encircle the shaft of my cock and to use them to slowly massage my erection to an eruption and to feel the muscular contractions of his throat as he swallows hard to consume my manly seed. But that will have to wait! I can't be late for dinner on my first night at home - it would anger my father and no doubt he'd take out his anger on Wickus. I don't want that to happen and so I don't have time to linger in the shower. My lust will have to wait until later. However, I know that as I talk with my parents and brother over dinner, my thoughts will be elsewhere; they will be centred on Wickus and my need to fuck him. Our time in the shower is necessarily brief. And when we are both dry, I have Wickus dress me in fresh clothes. Then I order him to don his loincloth and to present himself to Gerd in the kitchen while I join my parents and Isivile for pre-dinner drinks. My father plies me with questions about my academic studies and my life as a student at the country's leading university. He is inordinately proud of me for breaking into what were once the hallowed halls of white privilege. Back in his student days, he was denied access to this same university because of his skin colour - the only non-whites permitted within the College worked as labourers, porters, cleaners, cooks or waiters. Despite his impressive intellect, Dad was only permitted to study at a poorly rated and more poorly equipped technical college for blacks and coloureds. Despite these handicaps, my father excelled at his studies and yet he was denied access to any areas of authority. He was doomed to spend his days working under mediocre and less educated whites like his former boss and now slave, Gerd. And speaking of Gerd, he enters the room and falls to his knees before my parents and waits for permission to speak. I dislike Gerd intensely. Despite his obsequiousness he retains a carefully concealed disdain for all blacks and I don't trust him. At first, he is ignored and he waits until he is given permission to approach my mother. She is of course, the Mistress of the house and all matters relating to its running fall within her area of responsibility. It is my mother who receives the complaints about her house slaves and it is she who decides if they are to be punished. But it is my father - as the absolute Master - who administers those punishments. And I can only assume that Gerd has a complaint to make against some unfortunate, young slave. And I am right. "Yes Gerd, what is it?" My mother asks brusquely. Gerd crawls to her feet and kisses them in humiliating supplication before speaking. "Mistress, I have a complaint to make against the new slave, Wickus. He was late in reporting to me for his duties." I am taken aback to hear Gerd complain about Wickus. At first I regard it as frivolous but then I see a more cunning aspect to his complaint. He knew the young slave was with me and I suspect he is resentful of my father allocating Wickus to my service for the duration of my vacation. Perhaps he sees this as a direct challenge to his very limited control over the junior slaves - Gerd is answerable in the first instance to Mandisa and Uuka - and he is moving to re-assert his authority over them. Knowing Gerd as I do, he would resent losing any control over the junior slaves. This would be especially so with Wickus being assigned to me and I see his complaint as spiteful and designed to see my slave punished further. "Why was he late?" My father roars. "What reason did he give? " "Master, the slave didn't offer any excuse." Gerd slyly answers. "When I asked, he remained sullen and silent and refused to answer." "Did he? Then, he has just earned himself a whipping after dinner. I have been patient with him for too long. It is time that he learned to be a slave and to do as he is told." "Yes Master," Gerd's words are ingratiating and I see the malicious gleam in his eye as he speaks them, "this new slave needs to be disciplined." My dislike for Gerd intensifies. My opinion is that he is ingratiating himself into my father's good books. I seethe at the injustice of what he is doing and I am determined to thwart him by intervening on Wickus's behalf. "Dad, I'm afraid I am the reason why Wickus was late in reporting to Gerd for his duties. I thought you'd allocated him as my slave and I used him to unpack my clothing and to help me shower and dress for dinner. So if anyone is at fault it is me. If Wickus is to be my body slave during my vacation can I ask that he be answerable to me and not to another slave?" Quite deliberately, I have referred to Gerd as "another slave" and hopefully this will point out to Gerd that he holds no special standing in my eyes. Fortunately, my father seems to be in partial agreement with me - perhaps out of his long standing animosity to his former white boss. "Son, for as long as you are at home, Wickus is answerable to you for his actions. But you have to convince me that you can handle a slave before I give you full control over him. Remember, this is the first time I have given you this responsibility and I have to be sure that you are up to the task." "Well then Dad, how do I prove myself?" "By demonstrating to me that you can handle your slave with resolute firmness and that you are capable of severely disciplining him when the need arises." "I can do that Dad!" "I'm pleased to hear it, Thandiwe. And you'll have an opportunity after dinner to show me that you can. As you know I sentenced Wickus to ten strokes of the cane. It will be up to you to cane him and I'll judge whether or not you are severe enough in administering that punishment. If I'm satisfied that you are, then Wickus will be under your control and Gerd will have no more say over him." My father has called my bluff! He has placed the onus back onto me. Before giving me complete mastery over Wickus I have to prove to him that I am capable of controlling the slave and to punish him when necessary. Earlier on I'd salivated at the thought of Wickus's caning. In my mind's eye, I'd seen him bent double over the flogging trestle with his ass positioned for the cane. The image of this had been powerfully erotic and I'd looked forward to witnessing it. But I'd thought it would be my father who'd administer the ten strokes and I would be an aroused witness to the event. Now it is I who must cane Wickus and I must do so in a way that satisfies my father's need for sternness. I look at Gerd and see the smug look on his face and the malevolence in his eyes. My father hasn't exactly endorsed Gerd's authority over Wickus but then he hasn't repudiated it either. Gerd is quick to note this and obviously he doubts that I can meet my father's conditions. I will have to prove Gerd wrong! Which is most unfortunate for Wickus; I must cane him and I must do so most severely. But I console myself with the thought nothing can spare Wickus from the cane. If I don't administer his punishment then my father will. Whatever happens, Wickus will be caned and punished hard whether by my hand or that of my father, In the final analysis, there's no alternative. If I am to have complete and sole mastery of Wickus then I must demonstrate to my father that I have the will and resolve to rule my slave with firmness. I will have to cane Wickus - and severely - after dinner to prove my mettle. However, I have always disliked Gerd. He always struck me as being sly and cunning and I'd never been taken in his sickening obsequiousness. But now my dislike has turned to loathing and I plot my revenge. Somehow, I will have to create a situation whereby Gerd offends me and I will call for his own punishment. And it will be a punishment that I will gladly administer. I will see Gerd strung up by his heels and his ass beaten with a leather paddle. The thought of Gerd's naked body grotesquely hanging upside down swinging back and forth after each stroke of the paddle and his cries of outraged pain energize me. My cock is rock solid hard. Dad looks at his watch and impatiently orders Gerd back to the kitchen. "You're dismissed Gerd! Return to the kitchen and start serving our dinner." Gerd scrambles to his feet and slowly backs out of the room. Evidently, he is moving too slowly as my father angrily tells him. "Quickly slave! Hurry up or you'll find yourself joining Wickus in the punishment room after dinner for a caning." My father's threat to Gerd is not lost on me. Neither he nor Gerd are aware of my plans. But Gerd most certainly will be joining Wickus in the punishment-room after dinner. I will contrive to make this so. Wickus's caning will be severe but I am determined that Gerd's suffering will be the greater of the two slaves. As Gerd disappears through the door my father sighs. "I don't know what it is about white slaves but they are just so troublesome? Thandiwe, Isivile you must learn to harden your hearts to them and treat with firm resolution. Otherwise, they'll try and take advantage of your good natures. Remember, you never give a white an inch or he'll try and take the whole yard." To be continued...... You can access all the Jean-Christophe stories by joining the archive group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories