Preparing to Meet My First White Whore Wife Slave Trainee

Rodney finished his food quickly while my empty stomach knocked at me.  After rinsing the container in the sink he sat down again and lit a cigar.  I hate smoke but I said nothing.

"The first whore you'll meet is Anna," he said.  I looked up at him from my dog bed, unconcerned about my nakedness but wondering how I was going to relieve myself. I assumed I would not be allowed to use the bathroom we passed on the way to the kitchen.

"I met Anna at the big hotel downtown about a year or so ago. She was pretending to be a hooker at the hotel bar, so I took her upstairs and made her into the real thing."  He flicked an ash into the ashtray on the table.  "I didn't hear from her for quite a while, not until she left her husband. It was his idea by the way, for her to whore herself out.  There's no figuring out white dudes."

Rodney got up and reached for my water dish to refill it from the tap. I contemplated asking for another dish of dog food as my hunger swelled inside of me, but something told me that staying quiet and letting Rodney finish his story was the best way for me to stay in his good graces.

"She called me a few months ago and I agreed to take her on as one of my whores, but there was something about her that made me think I wanted to take her to the next level. She's a country girl from southern Georgia, wholesome as all get out, probably racist as hell but she loves black cock. Not that she doesn't hate herself for loving black cock but that's a big part of the attraction, I'm sure."

Rodney stood up and walked over to the dog food cupboard. "You ready to try this again?" he asked.  I nodded.  As he opened a fresh can of Alpo and spooned it into my food bowl Rodney continue with Anna's story.

"So I started her out with a quick round of my best clients and she's not only up to the jobs but I'm getting rave reviews from everyone who fucks her. I step up the pace and she handles whatever I throw at her. I'm making more than double my usual with no push-back from her at all, which I've got to tell you rarely happens in this business.  So I decided to get a couple more white wives to whore out an see where it leads.  Long story short, it leads to you."

All the while Rodney was talking I was trying to force myself to eat the dog food.  I knew I would - I was too hungry and too worried about missing my last chance at eating for the rest of the evening, but I struggle mightily with the look and smell of the bowl of Alpo.  The thought of getting it all over my face and hair was nauseating as well. Finally, as Rodney paused and arched a look at me and the bowl, I plunge in.  The taste turned out to be better than the smell and much better than I expected, but the physical humiliation of having to eat like a dog without the use of my hands or a utensil was almost unbearable.  At first my overwhelming hunger allowed me to concentrate on the pleasure of eating. Yet as the dog food began to satiate my hunger and the food on my face began to dry and cake around my mouth, my embarrassment overwhelmed me and I stopped eating. I wanted to wipe the food from my face so bad I almost moaned with frustration.

"Had enough?" I was too embarrassed to look at him. He took the bowl from the floor in front of my dog bed and emptied the remnants in the garbage can. I lapped at the water in my water bowl and tried to clean my face but to no avail.

"So what I need you to do," Rodney said as he unlocked my leash from the wall and led me to the back door, "is for you to answer all of Anna's questions as honestly as you can about what it is like to live as a white slave." He opened the door and motioned me into the back yard. "You can relieve yourself over here." He kept the leash tight against my collar as I squatted in the grass. I didn't look at him as the relief flooded me with new waves of shame and humiliation.

"I've got a couple of other white whore wives that will go through the same process as Anna, One of them has children and one of them is pregnant, so they'll have questions about what it's like to give up your kids. I don't care what you say to them about that. It really doesn't matter to me one way or the other."

Training White Whore Wives to be Slaves

Rodney led me inside his mansion by the leash.  He walked me into the kitchen and motioned me to lay down on the dog bed by the pantry. He picked up one of the two dog dishes and filled it with tap water.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Yes,"

"William was very clear about this and I'm inclined to do what he asks," Rodney said.  He put the water dish down on the floor in front of me and picked up the other dish.  "You need to stay in your role when you are not helping me train my whores, so you will drink from the dish and eat without using your hands. Understood?"

I didn't understand.  William hadn't explained to me what I was doing here. Whores? Training? I was completely confused about almost everything, but I'd been eating and drinking as an animal for some time now so I nodded and began to slurp the water.  I was dehydrated from the long hot ride over and the water was certainly welcome.  As I drank I heard an electric can opener whirring on the counter.  I looked up to see Rodney opening a can of dog food. I wondered if William had insisted on this new twist in my role or if Rodney just assumed I should truly eat like a dog.

"I want to talk to you about why you're here," Rodney said as he spooned the dog food out of the can. Even though I was quite hungry the smell of it was disgusting.  As dark as it was in William's dungeon I never smelled dog food in my bowl.  I tried not to whimper but I'm not sure I succeeded. Rodney did not appear to notice, or maybe he just didn't give a damn.

"I have three white whores that will be coming to live with us over the next few weeks," Rodney said.  He placed the dish of dog food in front of me and sat in the chair at the table a few feet from my bed.  "I understand that you've been in training as William's slave for some time now and I want you to answer any questions my whores might have concerning their training."

I nodded but didn't say anything.  I made no effort to eat although my stomach was empty. I tried not to look at the dog food but I was so hungry.

"Not a fan of Alpo?" William asked.  "No matter."  He whisked away the bowl and dumped the food in the trash can.  "You can eat tomorrow if you like."  He stood and opened the refrigerator.  He rummaged around and pulled a plastic container out of the fridge before slamming the door and walking over to the microwave over the stove.  He cracked open the lid and put the container in the microwave and pushed a button.  The whirring of the machine was like a dagger in my heart as I knew the aroma of real food would soon fill the kitchen.

"How old are your kids?" Rodney asked as he poured a glass of wine for himself.

"They're five and three now," I said looking him in the eye. Not only was he starving me, he was going to ask me about my children.

"How long has it been since you last saw them?"

"Six months."

"Do you miss them?"

"I miss them terribly."

"Then why are you here?"

I looked down at the water dish.  I had no answer for him.

"You need to think about that, because I know the girls are going to ask and I am going to insist that you answer all of their questions." Rodney took the leftovers from the microwave and sat at the table to eat. The food smelled wonderful and my hunger gripped me and strangled me. I turned away from Rodney and lay my head on the dog bed to hide my tears. I listened for several minutes in silence as he ate and drank without comment.  The depths of my despair was almost unbearable.

Delivering This Black Owned White Girl

The trip took forever but was over suddenly.  As William slammed on the brakes my crate slid to the front of the truck bed and crashed into the back of the cab. I’d had plenty of opportunities to decide if a sliding crate was worse than a tumbling crate but it was still a toss-up.  Luckily the crate had yet to go airborne. 

At least until William pulled open the tail gate and leapt up to the truck bed, then lifted me and the crate into the air and down onto the ground again.  Thankfully he didn’t throw me in my crate onto the concrete but placed me with some care.  I was face down again and I strained to see who was walking toward the crate from what looked like a big house with an extensive garden, but all I could see of him was his shoes and the bottom half of his trousers.  I was too exhausted to strain to see more.

William unlocked the crate and tipped it on its edge.  I began to wriggle out through the too-small opening. My legs were cramped and my knees bloodied from scraping against the truck bed but William lifted me by the leash and collar I still wore until I stood up straight to keep from choking.  I tried to look at the stranger but the sun was directly behind him.  Suddenly my thighs were seared by pain as William used a whip on me for the first time. He gave me a few quick, brutal strokes and then let me sink to my knees in front of the stranger. 

“I ask that you use only this dog whip to beat her during her time with you,” William said casually to the stranger.  “As I mentioned, I want her canine training to be as immersive as possible.” I glanced up to see William hand the short but thick braided leather whip to the stranger.  The sun still shone directly in my eyes as I tried to shield them. The pavement was hot on my naked torso but not unbearable. I watched as the stranger took the whip from William and then bent over to reach for the end of my leash.  William climbed into the truck without a word to me and drove away. I watched as he drove down the street into the late afternoon heat.

“I’m Rodney,” he said.  “Let’s get those wounds cleaned up.” We went inside.

“I have arranged for you to stay with me indefinitely,” Rodney said as he cleaned and bandaged the scrapes on my knees and elbows.  I sat on a stool in the kitchen while he stood above me.  He didn’t treat the welts on my thighs from the whipping at all. “William indicated that you are to be treated as a household pet and be punished if you stray too far from your role as such, but I need you to speak so I will not enforce that aspect of your training.”  He dabbed the worst of the cuts in my flesh with alcohol that stung me to tears. I refused to whimper as he treated me and I kept my head down so that he wouldn’t see my tears.  My hair hung between my face and his so I really couldn’t get a good look at him, but I saw from the size of his hands and torso that he was bigger than William but much darker. His hands looked older but they were impeccably manicured. I was anxious to see what he looked like but I was adamant about not looking him in the eyes.

“Let’s have a look at you,” Rodney said as he finished with the bandages and pulled gently on my leash to stand me up.  I kept my head down as he looked at my naked body.  He raised the leash over my head and slowly twirled me around.

“Look at me,” Rodney said.

I looked up at him.

He was exquisite.