I shook my head. “No!”
“It is also called the truth drug. You won’t remember anything, but you’ll react to everything. You can relax completely. Do you understand me?”
“Yes!
“Are you ready to go?”
Although I didn’t quite understand the question, I nodded, and the movement of my head immediately sent warm fog streams into my brain. I was as if bathed in cotton wool. It was a wonderful feeling. I began to sweat and my abdomen sent strong signals of highest excitement. The amobarbital had started to work and I felt light and floating. This is the last thing I consciously remember.
The following I have only very vaguely or not at all noticed because of the effect of the truth drug. But since a camera was running and I had to watch the film often enough later, I can at least describe what happened then: After a few minutes my skin was soaked with sweat, I was trembling with excitement and was sliding restlessly around on the chair. A deep but hard voice spoke to me. The man remained without a face even in the film. Now I know it was the black gentleman, my new owner.
“Mareike?”
“Yes!
“Hello! So far all the tests are quite positive and if the blood results are satisfactory, I’ll be your new owner.”
“Oh, hello. I’m glad you know…”
“You keep your mouth shut until you’re asked. Is that clear?!” The voice had changed from hard to cutting.
My mouth stayed open, then I started to cry. I think the drug was responsible for my emotional outburst, because I just started babbling to myself. “Why is everyone always so rude to me?” I raved and continued without waiting for the answer. “I’m nice to everyone, tender, lick and suck everything, get injected into every hole, swallow everything well, be polite and still smile when someone jokes or pisses in my face. But why does everyone treat me so bad? Am I not good enough?” After a short break: “Anyone can touch me, knead my udders, tear my holes open, fuck me and treat me like a bitch, but it just doesn’t seem to be enough. I carry out every command without grumbling or rebelling. Why can’t I just get some respect back?”
My question echoed in the room. The man was silent. “Are you ready?”, the unknown voice finally asked.
“Yeah, sure!” I laughed strangely loudly, which I blamed on the drug.
“So you want to be treated with respect?”
I nodded.
“Then why do you let yourself be so completely humiliated?”
I didn’t know the answer to that question. After some hesitation I began to sob again. “I like it too!”
“What do you like?”
I was crying now and stuttering. “To be treated like dirt, like a whore and bitch in heat. I need that when men pierce me with their cocks like spears, impale me and make me scream.”
“Are you very aroused right now?”
“And how! My juices are pouring out and I would love to touch myself right now until I cum. Or better yet, be at the service of every man like the only hole in the world where anyone can put anything in!”
“Do you like pain?”
“Oh God, yes I love pain. Please push my legs apart and whip my cunt bloody. Maybe then all this fucking itching will stop.”
“That’s strange, because in the films I’ve seen of you it’s clear that pain does not excite you. On the contrary. You’re made small, very small, by being beaten or whipped. How do you explain this?”
“Oh”, again I giggled, “it makes men horny to beat me and cause me pain. That’s what I want them to get horny on me. Then when they fuck me, I have them right where I want them. I have their excitement and they depend on me. My cunt and my asshole are the nose ring with which I lead them through the ring. They can’t help but pay homage to me. Their toughness, their brutality, their moaning is completed when they come. In my mouth, in my ass or in my cunt. You men think you defile me, but in truth you are slaves to your own lust. And I am your slave driver!”
“What role do we niggas play for you?”
I thought, “I don’t know exactly. …but I think I don’t see you black people as people. You’re more like animals. Or just above animals. I mean, I’m a white woman, I’ve studied, I’m successful, I’m intelligent, no Negro can hold a candle to me. And all these Negroes would never get such a horny white pussy like me, if I hadn’t made the decision to let them fuck me myself. Negroes are ridiculous in their exuberant masculinity. Above all, intellectually they are all far inferior to me. Always horny as dogs and fuck everything white. And as soon as a hard negro dick appears and I show him my white cunt, I have him already wrapped around my finger, because I know that he would do anything to finally ram his cock into me. But…”, again I laughed this insecure misplaced laugh, “… I’m a very merciful person, I feel sorry for negroes and I let them do their thing. It doesn’t bother me at all.” I smiled at the camera.
“So you don’t feel violated?”
“Oh, no, on the contrary!” I was really getting into it now and my voice was rolling. “The harder I’m forced, the less responsibility I have. I then play with the horniness of men, surrender and especially you negroes satisfy me. Really good. Tough. Sometimes it hurts, but it doesn’t matter. And sometimes it’s disgusting. Negroes stink everywhere. Their sweat is sour, and Negroes are far from hygienic. But I love being fucked by animals. And animals stink. And I come almost every minute when you guys fuck me. or when I suck your dick. Or when I pull your asses apart and my tongue goes deep into your asshole. I’m here to make sure that you get hard. And when you get hard, I get total satisfaction. That’s what I’m talking about!”
There, I said it.
It was exactly this sequence that my new owner played the next few days to everyone who came to his house to see me. He laughed arrogantly, as if to show his friends and business partners that even white women who fucked negroes were lousy racist cunts. “This is real life! That’s how the whites think about us” he seemed to want to hammer it into each of his guests, while I was tied up and in chains of just punishment. And the men wanted to punish me, that was obvious. They wanted to take revenge on me and thought up every possible scenario.
.
.
XI
ARRIVAL
The first day in my new domicile was marked by the fact that I was introduced to all family members, employees and the domestic workers. I say domicile because it was not just a house or a park, but a kind of colony where dozens of people lived and worked.
There was the family consisting of the Lord and Diana with their two children. The taller boy must have been about in his beginning twenties, while the other son was the handicapped straggler, younger than his brother. It was normal and natural for the whole family to have white servants and always a female white slave available for all sorts of services.
In the large manor house, which resembled more a castle, only white servants worked. Two cooks, four maids and the elderly couple. They only talked to each other when the lords were away. And all members of the family, including the sons, were considered to be the lords. All the servants knew their duties well, also with regard to me. I was not part of the servants, but was still far below them. I was an animal, dirt, an object of torture and orders.
Behind the manor house the wide plantations where cotton and tobacco were grown already extended. The next houses in sight were the stables and farm buildings. Everything was very well kept, the paddocks surrounded by white fences. The rear buildings with the machines stood on a wide hill and from them one had a view of a small collection of buildings, which stood a little further down in a hollow. There the black employees lived in a very respectable complex, which was designed like a luxury barracks. There was a parade ground, shooting ranges and even a building that looked like a round cinema. Two large pools, a sports field and a basketball court framed the barracks complex. A little further away there was a military hospital and a church building, which completed this strange colony.
Away from this colony and separated by a tower and heavy security fences, a large barrack building opened up to the west. It housed the prisoners who had been borrowed from the State Prison to work the fields and plantations. The two dozen or so prisoners were all white men who were fit for work and worked in chains during the day, before being rounded up and locked up again at night by the guards on horses with whips. In general, I noticed quite quickly the lack of women. There were none in the settlement, and the four ladies in the manor house were certainly opposed by 50 men who ruled the outskirts. Since they all carried heavy weapons and walked around in camouflage, my first impression was that this must be a veritable private army. And that’s exactly how it was.
As soon as I arrived I was taken over by the elderly white couple of chiefs. She was voluptuous, advanced in age and with drooping facial parts, which gave her a very grumpy appearance. Her lean, scrawny husband, who was a whole head shorter than her, must have been in his late 50s. It was clear that the gruff woman was in a position to order him around, while he very submissively carried out each of her orders. Neither of them introduced themselves, but only ordered me to follow them into the back rooms of the house. Arriving in the large concrete utility room I took off my clothes on command.
In front of her eyes I had to squat down over a hole in the ground and take my dip. Then the man washed me with a hard jet of cold water from a coarse hose everywhere until I began to tremble. I was not allowed to shave or apply make-up. Instead, I was given a coarse white linen overhang that reached up to my knees. With a broad scratching rope he tied my hands together in front of my stomach and tightened the knots until they cut into my flesh. He wrapped the rest of the long rope into a bundle and pulled on it wordlessly until I started to move. His wife went first.
My room must have been at the very end of the economic wing. A camp bed, a big TV screen and a wet room, that’s all it needed. The floor was tiled. The headmistress ordered me to lie down on the bed, and so my hands were untied from the restraints and chained to the bed. Then they both left the room again. At some point my films started to run on the screen. The volume was high and I became very excited but could not touch me.
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