She walked carefully, making sure not to tread on any sharp stones or twigs. This had become natural for her during all the months of slaving barefoot. She was able to trot, mostly using the balls of her feet, at quite a fast pace now. The skin across her soles had hardened as well, so there was very little risk of injury. All of this gave her a hurried and vulnerable looking gait, which set her apart from the free citizens she dwelt amongst.
The tin jug annoyed her. It was an extraordinarily cheap and badly made piece of kitchenware. But this rotten, stupid, heavy jug was her burden for the foreseeable future. N'Dula's Maid, N'Qunu, decided that the delivery of the aforementioned item was a fitting task for a cultured, well educated white slave girl.
She had been carrying the unsightly container for a couple of hours, moving it from one shoulder to the other whenever the weight became uncomfortable to carry. She estimated that she had gone no more than five or six miles since leaving N'Dula's villa.
The jug wasn't important to anybody. Her owner, N'Dula, hated it. It was to be despatched to one of N'Dula's relatives, who lived in P'Kula, a large town seventy miles away. It was a family heirloom that nobody could stand the sight of, and so it was decided that it would be foisted on said relative. Using the Postal Service of the African state of Natawe would have cost more than its value, so while N'Dula was otherwise distracted, her Maid N'Qunu sent Ursula off to deliver it.
This was at the most unfortunate time for Ursula Cokethorpe.
As was common for slave girls in Natawe, the aphrodisiac balm had been rubbed into her sex the day before. It was the most powerful feeling, ensuring that a slave girl was most eager to provide her person for pleasure. It also had the effect of bringing out a slave's submissiveness, making her enjoy being controlled and disciplined.
The application of the balm was at the heart of the discipline dished out that morning by N'Qunu. Ursula had been caught enjoying coitus with one of the other slaves, instead of attending to N'Dula's breakfast. Burning the eggs meant correction had to be administered.
Whenever Maid N'Qunu chose to punish the English slave, she would order the errant girl to strip naked, and apply the strap or the rattan cane to her dimpled white buttocks. After a good reddening of the girl's bum cheeks, she would then take away the slave's clothing, leaving her to serve au naturel for a mandatory period of at least two days. This humiliation was designed to put any errant slave in her place.
No exception was made regarding her nudity in respect of having to journey in public across the country to deliver the repulsive jug. Ursula's pleading to be allowed garments was ignored. A reddened bum and no clothing for at least two days was the mandated punishment, and nothing else was to be said. The naked girl was given the hideous item, walloped again with the strap, and sent on her way. Nothing on but her slave collar. For a very long walk indeed.
The jug was her life for the next (however many) days it would take for her to get to P'Kula and back. Ordered to make her way, naked and collared, from one side of Natawe to the other, to deliver a supposed family heirloom that was worth less than a postage stamp. Her position in society, and the consequences of her behaviour, had been made abundantly clear to her.
******
The main road from the Capital on the south coast, to P'Kula on the north coast, traversed the main island of the archipelago of Natawe. Originally, nothing more than a dirt track had been marked out in the late 1800s. Now, in 1928, it was the most used road in the country. Wagons drove up and down the road, pulled by horses. Citizens and slaves walked along it to get from one town to the next. All of them were clothed. Apart from Ursula.
She could feel the wind blowing across her breasts. Across her bare bottom. Across her smoothly shaven sex. The humiliation and exposure made her nipples stand up. There was no doubting the excitement that the aphrodisiac imparted to slaving in her birthday suit. But she still managed to blush a little.
Ursula was aware of the attention that passers by gave her. A naked slave was titillating, even to the Nataweans and their traditionally lustful lifestyle. But a naked, blonde, blue eyed caucasian girl? This was indeed a sight for the locals to behold.
Her pert breasts bounced and her tight, naked buttocks swayed as she walked. Occasionally she would feel a hand caress or gently pat her bottom.
Mostly she kept her mouth shut. She had been conditioned by N'Qunu not to draw attention to herself.
Occasionally, one of the locals would ask her questions. As a slave, she was obliged to answer, but in the humblest way possible so that she would not arouse suspicion.
"Why is this shameless white girl showing herself off?" said the free black woman currently walking alongside her. "It's healthy for a slave to get the air to her pussy, but you have a very long journey in public. Do you have no shame? I never knew that western girls were so brazen and immodest."
Ursula had been taught how to respond by N'Dula. She had to think like a slave, and respond like one when questioned. She comprehended that, until she had fully provided N'Dula with what had been agreed in their contract, she was no more than property.
"This slave was stripped bare by her Mistress," smiled Ursula. "It's not for a naked girl to question her owner. Modesty is a luxury that we are not afforded."
"And a very naughty slave girl, I believe?" said the free woman, cheekily slapping the slave's reddened bottom. "We can all see that."
This made Ursula acutely aware of how everybody walking nearby must be able to see the bruises across her delicate derriere. N'Qunu hadn't hesitated when applying the strap that morning.
It was clear that the citizen walking next to her was interested in plundering Ursula's person.
"Silly white girls always seem to lose their knickers when they visit Natawe," laughed the free citizen, quoting an oft repeated maxim about western visitors.
Ursula blushed and didn't quite know how to reply. So she said nothing, smiled, and hurried on away from the woman.
******
The heat was quite intense. Perspiration rolled down her back and her breasts. After three hours of carrying the ridiculous jug, she was starting to tire. The heat was making her dizzy, and she needed respite from the noonday sun.
Ursula moved to a shaded area a few feet from the road to rest for a few minutes. She put down the jug and sat down, with her knees pulled up to her chest. The journey was likely to take several days, and she had been provided with nothing. Absolutely nothing but her collar. Not a sausage. She knew she had to obtain water, food and some lotion to protect her skin from the sun. All that she had to trade with was her person.
She saw the woman who had been talking with her earlier, who had now caught up. Perhaps this was an opportunity for the slave to get some food and water? It was the only way she could think to complete the journey. The black woman had a reasonably attractive face, with a voluptuous figure. She had a mischievous smile which was exciting. And a naked slave girl making her way across the country had very few other options.
The difference in life for the two women was extreme. The free citizen had the right to clothing. The right to have money and the ability to purchase food. To decide where to go and what to do. Ursula, on the other hand, had to struggle and scheme in order to merely obtain food and water, while carrying out the humiliating task assigned to her.
The woman walked closer, and Ursula stood up, putting her hands behind her head to lift her breasts a little, showing them off. She moved her legs apart, affording the woman a clear view of her pussy.
The woman stood face to face with her.
"A nice all-over tan" said the citizen, touching Ursula's breast. "It's as though you've always been a stranger to clothing."
The bare white girl was aroused by the fondling of her nipple. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. The balm that had been rubbed around her most private parts the day before ensured that she was a slave not only to her owner, but also to the slightest stimulation of her person. The black woman moved her hand slowly down Ursula's stomach, eventually reaching and teasing her pussy. Ursula began to slowly wriggle her thighs. Whatever she was able to obtain from the transaction became less important. She just needed a fuck, and she needed it right now.
