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now he and his wife arrived at the mayoral residence.
    First he inspected his staff. Cook was fired and replaced with a slave. So was the gardener. There were now four slaves in the household and once the two new arrivals were in place he addressed them all. “Things are going to change around here,” he growled, as his eyes roved up and down the svelte naked bodies of his slaves. He stepped forward and fingered each of them in turn as an ante-bellum slaveholder might have done in America. He stared into their eyes as his hands roved over their breasts and down to their sex, delving in deep as they squirmed in shame. Clearly he was daring them to object. They didn’t. There wasn’t a woman in the nation who wasn’t scared out of her pants at this time of change and no newly made slavegirl was going to object to what her new master did to her, no matter how indecent.
    â€œYes, we’re going to have a great deal more discipline and I want to see a lot more work out of you... Jason, come here.” A huge black man now stepped out of the shadows. He really was a giant, at least six feet six and built like an Olympic athlete, his muscles rippled with every movement. His clothes were very form-fitting - very revealing actually. He was dressed in white pants and a body-hugging t-shirt with very short sleeves. These accented his body, demonstrating to the four slavegirls just how muscular he really was. In his hand was a whip and hanging from the right side of his belt was a cane while on the left what they later discovered a cattle prodder.
    â€œJason will be your supervisor. He has my full authority to discipline you when he feels you are not giving your best. Perhaps some demonstrations, Jason... ?”
    â€œSure, boss.” His voice was deep and his black eyes now roved over the four girls. They alighted on Angela. “You, come forward.”
    She stepped forward, her heart quaking as she looked up at this terrifying young man. He reached out and mauled her breasts while he leered down into her face. Then he dug his fingers into her quim. “Hands up behind your head, slut,” he ordered and she complied hurriedly. “Now spread your legs. Open that cunt to our view...”
    The new mayor watched approvingly as his protege shamed the young blonde slave. Then, the black stepped back, raised his whip and lashed it down, right across her breasts. She screamed: “Aaaaggghhhhheeeggghhhaaaggghhh!” Her face turned white with the pain and she doubled up, her hands coming down to hug her agonised chest while she hopped around, all attempts to assuage some of the fiery pain that beset her body. The whip was short. The handle was nine inches while the blades were only another twelve but it was what they were made of that had engendered Angela’s agony. They were made of rhinoceros hide which material, when properly cured, makes the most painful whiplashes in the world. Used to full effect, they can tear open the flesh quite easily.
    Jason had not done this but he had made the lash count. He gestured for Angela to return to her place but then selected Jane to come forward. She did so in fear and trembling and looked up in terror into his face as he mauled her lovely young body as he had Angela’s before her. “Bend over, slut-bitch,” he said. “Hands flat on the floor between your feet. Six strokes, if you stay still, twelve if you move or scream.”
    He moved in behind her, raised the cane and slammed it down across her now taut butt cheeks. She grunted but stayed otherwise still and quiet. It had hurt terribly but she somehow absorbed the pain, knowing that he was serious and that if she reacted as he had suggested, she would indeed be facing a doubling of the punishment. He raised it again and laid it on hard once more but not on the same spot. For the last stroke, though, he did, placing the cane right over the first welt, the one that was paining the most.