as his abuse rituals seemed to run together. One woman applied an electric cattle prod to his testicles and seemed amused at the sounds he made in response, at watching his body contort and tremble with pain. Another tied him to a tree and covered his body with honey as she let insects sting and bite him and left in him the oppressive sun like an ornament on a lynching Christmas tree. Once he was beaten on the bottoms of his feet until he passed out and they seemed to enjoy using his body as practice for their single tail whips, with which they were quite expert. He would be secured to a large boulder and made to hold his asscheeks apart while they aimed for the bull’s eye. The pain was so intense he knew that losing consciousness was his only chance to survive the sharp, stinging blows.

The women led him to the stables one day and made him lie on a bale of hay. A horse was brought out of the stalls and he thought for sure he was going to have to serve as the receptacle for his sperm in either his mouth or asscunt. Instead they removed the bit from the horse’s mouth and placed it directly into Charles’ mouth and hooked him to a plow. They made him work the fields like an animal, whipping him every time he faltered. The salt from his sweat stung the cuts on his back and the sun burned his pale flesh to a searing, hot red. His body wasn’t strong, he wasn’t muscular and well-built like African men so he fell often, unable to move the earth as he was instructed to do. Every muscle in his body was sore, every organ in his body suffered from the effects of malnourishment and dehydration. His flesh was covered in bruises where he had been beaten, paddled, and whipped. His cock hadn’t been hard in days, since he left the comfort of the big house.

Of course, he was raped every day. It was brutal and vicious and always with objects that could puncture his intestines and end his life, the handle of an axe, an empty bottle of wine, an oversized vegetable from the garden, whatever happened to be handy. He was always left bleeding from his rectum and his cock and balls endured more punishment than he’d thought possible. Metal sounds were shoved in his piss hole and heavy weights applied to his balls. It was as if the women were free to experiment on how much pain could inflict on his genitals short of castration. Many times, the Black bitches held the blade of a knife or a rusty razor to his nuts and threatened to make him a eunuch if he uttered a sound. In the back of his mind, he realized that under other circumstances he would have been getting pleasure from this treatment but at some point, he understood that this experience had nothing to do with sex. This was about the fear and horror of real enslavement. He remained silent, even in the face of his manhood being removed and decided to do whatever he had to do in order to live. That was his only goal-- to live to another day with the hopes that he would be able to go home. Charles had become a real slave.

Sleep