EXTRACT FOR
Slave Estate
(Miranda Birch)

After a little while I came into a clearing where the gang was at work. Seated under a striped awning on the edge of the clearing was the overseer. She stood up when she saw me approaching and I recognised her as Lashaya. She is a magnificent looking negress, very muscular, with big melon breasts and strong haunches. Her thighs are long and powerful and look capable of squeezing the life out of anyone. I think she works out regularly with the weights in the gym. 



"Morning, Miss Parker," she called, showing strong white teeth in a dazzling smile. "Lovely day, isn't it?" 



"Sure is," I replied. As indeed it was -- provided one didn't have to do engage in anything more physical than a leisurely stroll. We sat down together under the awning, side by side, and I looked around the clearing which was in direct sunlight. 



The eight males working there were as naked as their overseer was. They too wore boots but not the highly-polished calf-length boots that Lashaya had on. They were heavy working boots. Two of the slaves was engaged in felling a tree with a two-handled saw. The other six were using smaller hand saws to remove branches of a tree felled earlier. They were all wet with sweat, looking as if they had just climbed out of a river. All carried whip-marks across buttocks or flanks. Lashaya had the whip coiled up beside her. It was I knew made of tightly-plaited rhino hide... hard yet supple, long and slim. A great incentive to extra effort. Lashaya glanced at her watch. "Another twenty minutes before they get a break," she said. "They work six hours straight through," she went on, "with a ten minute break each hour, on the hour." 



It was easy to understand why they were in a lather of sweat. The heavy leg irons they wore did not help matters either. 



"Mainly newcomers, I suppose," I said. 



"Yep. None's been here more than six months. They all do a year in a work-gang... outside rain or shine. Knocks them into shape." 



I knew that after a year, these slaves would be allocated to other tasks. Some would continue with outside work, but of a less arduous nature. Others would become household slaves, like Tom and Patrick. 



A tree came crashing to the ground. At once, the slaves with the big saw moved on to the next tree in line. There was no pausing to observe their handiwork, no stopping for a brief respite. If they had paused, both would most certainly have felt Lashaya's whip. Already, I noticed, each had several nasty looking welts across rump and thighs. Meanwhile, the last of the branches had been removed from the other fallen tree. It had become just a trunk -- a heavy-looking one at that. The six slaves bent and, by dint of great effort, lifted it up on to their shoulders. Then, with chains clanking, they came tramping across the clearing, passing nearby the awning, heading for a large pile of trunks to one side. 



What brutes they were. They looked totally dejected, eyes dull and downcast, fatigue etched on every face. Their limbs looked leaden. One of their number stumbled. Instantly, Lashaya was on her feet. With accuracy born of experience her long, slim whip snaked out and cracked over a sweating flank. There was a yelp of pain. 



"At the double!" called Lashaya. 



Amazingly, the file of five broke into a shambling trot. There were gasps and groans and heaving chests. It was evident that Lashaya was intent on driving her gang to the limit. They came back, minus the trunk, still at the double. Immediately they set to work on sawing the branches off another tree. It made me feel quite tired even to watch them. But I love watching males being made to sweat like the pigs they are!