Chapter One ~ Ester: One

 

I didn't mind getting up early and cleaning the hogs. That's what we called the smelly thralls who for one reason or another were strapped to the trolleys in the 'nursery'. Jupe was a good example. She tried to escape while being transferred to another part of the estate. It was a common occurrence when the girls realized they were being sold to the mine owners. Working in cobalt or diamond mines was often a death sentence and the thralls knew it.

A powerful girl like Jupe needed taming and restraining. So, Mr. Lloyd agreed with the girl's new owner, David Payne, that she would be secured in high security metal restraints. Only then would she be loaded and transported to a secret location across the border in the Democratic Republic of Congo.

The four girls had a gruelling six-hour journey ahead of them; but that would seem like a holiday compared to what awaited them at their destination. I had spent six months working with Mr. Lloyd and knew all the ins and outs of his operation.

When I was the leader, he allowed me to deal with all the basic stuff, like filing invoices and delivery notes for the legit side of his business. I helped with thrall arrivals but got nowhere near thrall sales and his drug deals.

As the leader of the 'girl squad' I had to make sure that my five squaddies were kept busy, mainly on cleaning duties around the estate. Then, in the evenings, during the week, four of the girls would be assigned to two male staff each and provide them with the use of one of their holes.

Mr. Lloyd used us to reward lads who impressed him during the day. The thralls had to be back in the dormitory by eleven 0clock. Eve and I got a pass from being mauled by the estate lads. Eve was white and entertained Gary Foster, the assistant manager, who had a thing for snow white wiggers. I provided Cameron Lloyd with his perverted sexual needs five or six days a week.

Every Friday, four or five high ranking officers would arrive and talk business with Mr. Lloyd and Gary Foster. In return for huge backhanders. the military turned a blind eye to my Master's drug running operation. A plane would leave the estate three times a week and return after dropping its load to the distributors. The rumour was that the plane belonged to the military.

Every Friday evening, we, the 'girl squad', would entertain the officers in the main dormitory. The long, narrow room was reserved for Defence force Officers and clients who came for the slave auctions and stayed a night or two. There were ten 'rooms' sectioned off, each with a curtain to give a little privacy, plus a seating area with enough easy chairs for twenty people.

Mr. Lloyd supplied an endless supply of alcohol and we provided an endless supply of sex. Because there was only six of us in the squad, we were kept busy until the men were either exhausted or unconscious after consuming too much alcohol.

For the first time in ages, the Friday night visit was cancelled, so the six of us had gotten a decent night's sleep in our own little dormitory. I had just found out from Seth that Mr. Lloyd had spent the night at the army base in Mugina, which explained the change of plan.

My Master had found out about the plane crash earlier in the day and gone apeshit. Two of the girls we sold to Ethan James tried to steal a shipment of diamonds from 'The Silent Lady'. They failed but then hijacked Mr. James' plane and fled from Dar es Salaam. They met a gruesome end when the plane crashed less than a hundred miles from the trading estate.

It was a mystery as to why they flew west across Tanzania instead of flying down the coast toward South Africa. Mr. Lloyd held a quick enquiry into the incident and by late afternoon he had arrived at the conclusion that we hadn't vetted the thrall in a correct manner. That was part of my job and as a result he downgraded me to a plain squaddie.

He replaced me with Eve, who became the 'leader' of the squad. He also promoted Seth to work in his 0ffice to help him supervise incoming thralls and help out with the girl 'squad' while Eve was learning the ropes.

Needing to take his anger out on someone, he told Seth to hold me down on his desk. Eve took great delight in pulling my panties down before lifting my legs either side of her hips. The master then delivered a dozen strokes of the cane across my naked ass and the backs of my thighs. I screamed and struggled but Seth and Eve clung on until the punishment was over.

I rubbed my ass ruefully as I watched the fourth and last prisoner hobble out of the shed. We called the shed 'the nursery' due to the odd shape trollies we used to restrain the thralls. Jupe was off to the cobalt mines in the DRC and good riddance to her. Anyone remotely connected to the pair of thralls who stole Mr. Lloyds plane deserved a lifetime of grovelling in pitch black tunnels.

Seth had the job of escorting the thrall out to the truck, leaving us alone in the stinking shed. I was wondering who Seth was going to pick to clean the shed when I heard someone clapping behind us. All four of us turned together to discover that it was Eve standing in the side doorway.

"Squad, get your asses over here." She looked smart in the shirt I used to wear. Her camouflage long tank top was longer than ours and almost covered her khaki panties.

The other girls started jogging to show their eagerness, so I joined them and caught up. Mr. Lloyd had given Eve a short whippy cane to hang on her utility belt alongside a walkie talkie, but she had removed it and was holding it in her hand.

We formed a line, just like the squad did when I was in charge. 'Shoulders back and tits out'. was what Colonel Smith often barked at us, after we had removed our tight singlets. He often made us stand in the blazing sunshine for 20 minutes while we stood to attention wearing just our khaki panties and black boots. He would play with our tits and flick our rings while admonishing us for a trivial infraction.

Eve glared at us one by one. "Squad, I want you to know that I take my responsibilities seriously..." She stopped in front of me and slipped the cane up between my thighs until it was nudging my cunt. "This girl is in disgrace and no longer in charge. Do you hear me, squad?"

"Yes, Miss," the other three girls replied.

"Answer me, Ester." She lowered the cane and brought it up hard, right in the centre of my gusset.

"Fuck! I never hit you that hard!" I exclaimed.

She grinned at me. "The Colonel does, and I will in the future. Are you going to behave yourself?" She lowered the cane to the level of my knees ready to whack my cunt again.

"Yes, Miss, I will."

"Good!" She stepped back. "Now, squad, go to the dormitory and change into clean uniforms. There's no time to put your corsets on so don't bother. Pack all your things into the bags you will find on your beds and take them to holding cell number two. If you're not there in five minutes..." She raised her cane. "...you'll get a taste of this on your cunts."

"A holding cell, Eve?" I gasped.

The girl was the heaviest member of the squad and quite plain. I wasn't surprised that the Master had picked her though, after what had happened the previous day. She was brighter than the others and had some muscle, plus she had always been the mouthy one of the squad.

"Ester, the Master told you to address me as 'Miss'. Didn't he?"

"Yes, Miss."

"That's better. Move your gear quickly. We have some VIPs landing in ten minutes and Colonel Smith wants you outside reception before they arrive." She focused on me again. "Ester, you can finish cleaning up in here, later, on your own. Now go!"

We filed out of the side entrance and jogged across the wide concreted yard. Four light aircraft were parked over to the left, quite close to a long line of large delivery trucks. One was being loaded by two young men who stopped to watch us jog past.

"Ester, show us your tits!" Abel shouted.

He wouldn't have dare shout such a request 24 hours earlier when I had the authority to report him for insolence. I had to be wary of Abel and the other lads because I had treated them like shit for six months. There was bound to be some payback if I was allocated to two of them in the evenings.

I ignored him and continued jogging until we reached the back door to the main accommodation building. We took the stairs two at a time and rushed along the corridor to our dormitory.

"What a fucking shitstorm," I muttered the moment I reached my bed.

Empty black holdalls had been placed on our beds so we could move our gear quickly. None of the other girls were talking to me. I had been rough on them in the past, so they had no sympathy for my plight. In fact, it was worse than that. During the night, one of the girls punched me in the head while I slept. The coward retreated to her bed thinking I couldn't see who it was in the pitch-black room. I suspected it was Eden, an aggressive Congolese teenager who could handle herself.

I had to eat humble pie, while I tried to get back into my Master's good books, so I kept my head down and quickly stuffed my meagre belongings into the bag. I left out a clean pair of panties and singlet, then stripped and put the dirty items on top. I was the last one to finish dressing and once again I had to catch up with the others who were halfway down the stairs.

I was snatched from my home in Zambia when I was about ten and transported to Kasongo in the Democratic Republic of Congo. I had been working on a farm for eight years, when my Master lost all his possessions, after getting into debt. I was one of his assets and was sold at a slave auction at the age of 18.

My new Master bought me as an investment and put me to work in his kitchen, under the tutelage of a fearsome woman named Madge. The year I spent in her orbit was harsh, but productive, because she insisted on educating me during virtually every waking minute of the day. Looking to cash in on his investment, my Master bought me to Lloyd's Trading Estate and that's how Cameron Lloyd became my Master.

If I wanted to stay on the Estate, then I had to impress my current Master and avoid catching the eye of any prospective buyers. That was easier said than done when I had to entertain and provide sex to the visitors, dignitaries, buyers and officers from the nearby base.

We followed the side of the building and entered the detention centre. The cinder block construction was only a single story, but it had solid ceilings and a tiled, pitched roof. We could deal with up to twenty thralls at once and it was unusual not to have any awaiting processing. Eve was standing outside 'holding cell number two' with her back to the open metal door.

"Hurry girls, the plane has landed and we should be in place." I was the last one to enter the dowdy room." Eve followed me in. "Ester, yours is the end one."

Five grotty mattresses had been laid side by side in a row. The ends butted up to an 'L' shape wooden bench that was fastened to the longest and one of the shortest walls. The end mattress was next to the low-level toilet pan, which I could smell from the open doorway. Resigned to my fate, I walked to the end and dumped my bag on the mattress.

"Berets girls. Hurry!"

A couple of minutes later we were lined up outside the main entrance, standing to attention while Colonel Smith examined the line of five girls. The white haired old white guy was a throwback from the colonial era. Probably 70 years old, he provided the original finance that enabled Cameron Lloyd to build his mini empire. That's why my Master tolerated him.

The sixth girl in the squad, Rebecca, was white and spent a lot of time with Gary Foster, a black guy who had an eye for white women. I could see the general manager and Becca chatting with the group who had just alighted from the plane. They were about two hundred yards away, at the edge of the runway.

Colonel Smith stood before me and absentmindedly pinched my left nipple which was poking against the tight tank top. "Very disappointed in you, Ester. Cameron has done the right thing and you're lucky he hasn't put you on the auction list."

"Yes, Sir. I'll make amends..."

He adjusted my beret, then touched my collar. "Come up to the stores after you've been dismissed so I can fit your new collar."

"Yes, Sir. I will..." I cursed under my breath.

The collar I was wearing didn't restrict my speech, although my Master could punish me through it. The new one would restrict me to ten syllables a minute, just like the other squaddies; and it could be switched off and punish me, like the one I was wearing.

I could survive talking in short sentences. However, the new restriction would further erode the standing I had among my peers. I was finding it harder to accept my new lowly position with each privilege they stripped away from me...