The year is 1927. Penelope Latton is a very wealthy heiress who came out of mourning after her guardian died, and decided to embark on a period of sexual adventure. Her friend, and old private school crush, N'Dula visited, and educated her in the finer arts of bondage. Penelope is a willing submissive and exhibitionist, and decided to travel to Natawe, N'Dula's home country, to further her libidinous journey. Slavery still exists in Natawe, an archipelago off the west coast of Africa, and Penelope eagerly consented to be temporarily bonded.
Penelope was lent to Queen N'Zana for several weeks, where she met Lady Hermione Charlbury, a member of the British aristocracy who was enslaved while waiting for her ransom to be paid.
Lady Cecilia, the manipulative domme who blackmailed Penelope and Hermione, has now been enslaved by Queen N'Zana. The Queen is using her in order to control the Bibury Trading Company.
Cecilia got her revenge by tricking a local slave trader into having both Hermione and Penelope marched to the Western Province's slave auctions to be sold.
Penelope is now owned by Harriet Wilkinson-Smythe, who owns a bath house. She is hired out to wealthy Natawean ladies and their husbands to provide massage and pleasure. The bath house is also visited by European tourists wanting to partake in the sexual adventures that Nataweans enjoy.
Lady Hermione Charlbury is the property of K'Pela and N'Seba, and slaves at their villa
******
Harriet Wilkinson-Smythe walked swiftly through the market square of the Western Province's capital, dressed grandly in a colourful Natawean dress. She wore gold coloured leather sandals of the highest craftsmanship. All of her clothes were expensive and top quality, reflective of her status in the city. Her spa was used by most of the wealthiest women of the province, and also some of their husbands. Her life, appearance and status were grand.
Hurrying to keep up with her was a completely naked white girl with a mark of ownership tattooed onto her bare bottom. She had to be careful where she stepped as she was barefoot, while at the same time keeping up with the purposeful stride of her owner, and also avoiding all of the clothed free citizens walking past. This was quite arduous, leaving the nude girl out of breath.
"It's a lovely day, don't you think, slave?" said Harriet to her unfortunate underling.
"Yes, mistress," replied the naked Penelope Latton, hurrying to keep up. "Thank you for taking me through the city with you."
Her conversations with her owner were jovial and polite, but she knew that if she didn't show the absolute respect of a slave to her owner, then correction would soon follow.
The unfortunate Miss Latton had had her sex smeared with the aphrodisiac every day for a number of weeks now. As a result, being hurried through the market square, exposed and humiliated, was exciting her beyond measure. She was owned and vulnerable, with her person on display for all of the clothed Africans in the city. Being obliged to reveal her body this way thrilled her immensely. Her mind now focused only on submission and eroticism, and her slavery had been fully impressed upon her.
Miss Latton could feel a cool breeze blowing over herself as they got nearer to the coastal area of the city. She could feel it blow across her breasts, and across her naked bum.
"White girl got titties out!" laughed a nearby stallholder. "Nipples stand up like little soldiers!"
Penelope couldn't deny the accuracy of the stallholder's crude comments. It thrilled her to be bared and enslaved.
"So how large was your estate, slave girl?" asked Harriet, always curious about the upper class white girl's background.
It was delightful to remind the slave of the days when she could make her own decisions and wear garments. It reinforced to the exposed girl how far she had fallen.
"I'm not sure exactly how many acres," Penelope flushed a little as she answered, hurrying to keep up. "But the grounds could have fitted Cirencester inside them."
Harriet turned and slapped the slave's backside, laughing. She knew pretty much everything about her newly acquired toy. Some of that knowledge was going to be put to good use today. She couldn't wait to see the girl's expression when they got to their destination.......
******
The metal yoke was uncomfortable and humiliating. It was locked around Lady Hermione Charlbury's neck, and extended outwards to trap her hands eighteen inches away from her head on each side. She had no ability to cover her nude body. There was a chain extending from the yoke to the other girls on the coffle.
As the line of slave girls moved, poor Hermione was pulled along.
The task master in charge decided the blonde slave looked magnificent. She was the only white girl on the coffle, and the only one naked. Her full breasts were firm, with erect nipples. Her body was slim and tight from working hard. Her shaven sex stood out beautifully, and her buttocks moved gracefully as she stepped. She was young and supple - perhaps in her early twenties?
Her skin was tanned all over, and it looked as though she was a stranger to ever having been clothed. These white girls are completely lacking in modesty, he thought.
From her posture he could tell that she was well brought up, perhaps aristocratic? No matter, because that was now history. She was properly marked and slaved up, destined to serve whoever purchased her.
The tattoo matching her Deed of Title was prominent on the slave's left breast, which excited the trader. It indicated that, regardless of where the bare white girl came from, she was now compelled to slave in her skin always, regardless of whoever purchased her.
Whenever they stopped for a moment, she wriggled her hips and rubbed her thighs together, an indicator that the aphrodisiac was regularly rubbed around her pussy. She must be desperate for release, he thought, which would certainly make her submissive and responsive.
Being naked among the clothed made her intensely aware of any passers-by that ogled her form. She was a naked, bondaged slave being marched to auction. The control and ownership of her person, as well as the Deeds of Title in the slave trader's bag, underlined to her that she existed to provide service and pleasure.
She longed to touch herself, but her wrists were trapped. This was apparent to both the slave trader and the other girls on the coffle.
When she woke that morning, Hermione had no idea that she would be on her way to auction again.
******
The permanently naked Lady Charlbury woke up at sunrise between K'Pela and N'Seba on their large bed. They had both spent the previous night plundering her person in every position possible. She could feel the dried semen on her bottom, stomach and face that K'Pela had left when he came over her body. The thrill of being at their whim drove her to seek physical release again.
She put her hand to her sex to see if she could pleasure herself without waking her owners.
They regularly took her to bed with them. It was more comfortable than the straw that she slept on in the barn, but she was acutely aware that while sleeping in the main house she was a toy for them to play with at any time.
She could feel K'Pela's cock pushing against her pussy lips. Her wetness and excitement meant that he was inside her in seconds. He started to thrust gently and she could feel her nipples rising as he fondled them.
"Share her with me, darling," giggled N'Seba as she awoke. "It's the polite thing to do."
"Of course, my sweet," replied her husband as he pushed Hermione around so that her mouth was near his wife's cunny.