Chained by Fate

[fallenmystic]

So far, this is a good pace, we are starting to understand the characters and the situation (thank you). In my stories I have usually gone at natural speed (in your case, it takes as long to read about it as a walk through the tunnel would take) then jump to another time (they work all afternoon in silence, then talk when chained at night, for instance).

It partly depends whether you have an ending mapped out. This is often the hardest idea. With no ending, it is not a story, just a list of degradations and humiliations. Once you have an end, work out how long it will take the characters to get there, and pace episodes along that path.

Here on CF, some enjoy death, some prefer a "Happy ending" so you have flexibility how it finishes; in your case, these D-slaves look to have a bleak future, but your imagination may say differently. Anything is possible, a roof collapse kills them, a flogging/crucifixion kills them, a riot/invasion/coup frees them, promotion to B-slave gives 4931 a better life???????

Thanks much for your advice and feedback! I think I was too focused to write about the emotional impact on 4931 when she experienced various daily routines of the mine for the first time. I think I should follow her first day as detailed as I'm currently trying to do, then take a more loose approach as you suggested like jumping to another time.

As to the ending, I think I have a rough idea. The final state would require a certain passage of time for developing, so that was part of the reason why I was concerned about the story's current pace.

Thanks again for your valuable input!

I agree with OS’s comments and advice.

Thanks! And I want to tell you that I love reading your story. I envy your writing skills and I wish I could write like you someday

......

I decided to post the next episode as it is, and rewrite the other one to adjust its pacing and tone down the event a bit so they can reasonably survive the first day

 

[fallenmystic]

The Feeding Hall was a cavernous space carved out roughly into an oval area, which was about 30 feet wide and slightly longer in length. It didn't look so spacious though, not only because of a couple of sturdy wooden pillars standing along the centerline of the hall but also because of various pieces of furniture adorning the space. There are several small tables and chairs mostly made of wooden crates. Still, of course, we were forbidden to even touch them except when they use us on top of them occasionally.

This hall was the only space in this level of the mine where the overseers can gather to unwind. There was a mess hall above the ground where 'Flabby Tits' - a C grade slave girl - cooks and serves for the personnel of this facility. But as it was quite a long walk from this level to the surface, most overseers hang around in the Feeding Hall when it isn't crowded with the slaves. As we passed by the rows of densely packed crouching slave girls, I felt my collar suddenly tugged downward as the chains tightened between my legs. I turned back to find 4931's horrified face as she stood still, her eyes fixated upon one of the tables where two overseers were having a conversation over coffee.

Below the table, two slave girls were busy polishing their boots - one with her tongue and the other with her pussy. As the first girl eagerly moves her head from side to side of the boot, her highly raised ass kept swaying rhythmically. Dried flakes of feces and thick dark layers of dust were covering most of the surface of her cheeks, giving a stark contrast to the bright pink color of her shamelessly exposed sex. Surrounded by matted bushes, loose darkened lips were drooping downward, swaying like pendulums as she moved. Between them, I could see a cave-like entrance was gaping like the mouth of a fish. Few slaves girls here manage to keep her sex tight and clean for long. Sooner or later, they had to be stretched, scratched, stuffed, torn, burned, and all other types of abuse until they get ruined completely.

The glistening surface of her sex and the matted hairs around it suggested that she had been mopping the boots with it quite a while before she was ordered to finish the job with her tongue, eating what remained of her own juice. It was quite common for the girls to be used to polish the boots like that because they tend to gather mud and dust in this mine quite fast. There are even small wooden blocks near the tables on which they can put their boots on so we can be more efficient with our hip movements. I always hated the job because it becomes increasingly challenging to get your sex wet quickly when you get sexually abused daily. And I can tell you that rubbing your dry pussy over mud and grime can be quite a painful job, often making me tasting blood among my feminine stench when I clean up my work.

From the looks of her face, I bet 4931 has never seen a girl's private part was so shamelessly displayed for all to see, or abused in such a degrading manner. Oh, dear, you will learn soon enough. I gave 4931 a gentle tug to bring her back to reality. I was glad she was too shocked to notice a pair of pyramid-shaped furniture along with various whips and restraints hanging from the wall near the tables where the overseers sat.

We navigating our ways through the sea of crouching slave girls and reached the far end of the hall where there were two big white plastic barrels. Fortunately for us, those girls were mostly either too busy licking their fingers or too exhausted to care about 4931. Some gave us a puzzled look once their eyes scrutinized her clean, hairless body. Still, they surely wouldn't dare gossip about it when there are overseers nearby. Several flies were busily buzzing around the barrels, sharing the feast with the slave girls. And behind them, I noticed the impatient stare from 'Raisin Tits,' who was standing with her arms crossed, holding a large ladle in her hand.

She was one of the few C grade girl in this facility, along with 'Flabby Tits' in the mess hall. As her name suggests, she had a flat chest with protruding dark-colored nipples. Aside from distributing food during the feeding break, she was responsible for various menial tasks like cleaning or washing as other C grade girls outside the mine. However, compared to ordinary C grade girls, they were always busy being passed around between higher rank overseers for sexual use. It's understandable how even lowly C grade girls can look like a suitable method of deriving sexual pleasure when you don't have any better options. And it's because they had such a busy schedule, low-rank overseers often have to degrade themselves by putting their dicks inside us, in whatever holes we have.

"Cunt two-seven-six-three is begging to be fed, Ma'am," I knelt in front of the barrels and pleaded with outstretched hands over my lowered head. Even among slaves, lower grade girls are required to show proper respect when they are in front of their superiors. Although C grade girls are also forbidden to wear any clothes, they don't have to shave their hair, and they were still regarded as humans technically, although all slaves are also properties of their owners, regardless of their grades. Sometimes, C grade girls are given names from their owners when they find it cumbersome to call them by their numbers. Unlike the B graders who usually have 'normal' names, however, they are usually given derogatory nicknames, often taken from traits of their body parts. And it is usually not difficult to find some defects of them, because they don't get C grade without a reason. But at least they have names, and few name their cows or pigs on the farm.

Raisin raised her hand to swipe her matted bang aside before dipping her giant ladle into the barrel, fishing up what was left inside. Soon I felt cold, slimy mess on my hands and I quickly closed them to prevent it from spilling. Streams of liquid escaped between my fingers and ran down my arms, dripping from my elbows to mark the already messy ground.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

I bowed my head and hurriedly began to devour the contents inside my hands. It tasted a bit sour, probably on the verge of going stale because the barrels were often kept outside for days until their use. But I didn't have any reason to complain since I found it tasted particularly meatier today. There was a giant grinding machine near the mess hall, where they put any leftover from meals for the overseers. And they also provided a recycling service for the nearby towns, so garbage trucks regularly collected food wastes from there and dumped them into the mixer. As such, the gruel with which we were fed did not taste the same every day; sometimes, it tasted rotten fruits, and other times it tasted fishy. In the summer, it often turns into a stinking mess of vinegar tasting slime, which significantly increased the chance of tripping over the slippery ground while you work.

"Are you going to eat or not?"

Rasin's irritated voice immediately brought my attention back to reality when I was savoring the taste of my fingers. How stupid I was to forget about her! Suppressing a retch, 4931 mimicked me by kneeling beside and hesitantly stretching her hands over her head.

"I... I want to eat, Ma... Ma'am!"

Oh, God. I knew that she would get us killed before tomorrow!

(To be continued...)

 

[fallenmystic]

The next episode is by far the longest and the most extreme one so far. I tried to tone down the intensity but I suppose it wasn't enough. And I'm aware that the characters, settings, and tone, and even punctuations of the story are quite inconsistent across the episodes.

I suppose it's something inevitable as I'm learning how to write a story by doing various experiments. But I'll definitely rewrite to make them more consistent once I finish the story.

Oh, one last thing. As you can see, the story now contains quite heavy amount of racial elements. On a site where people discuss the beauty of naked, crucified girls, I believe such a disclaimer wouldn't really be necessary. But I'm new here and people don't know me yet, so I'll make my intentions clear about the subject.

Everything I write in my story is a pure fantasy, and I never condone any real life violence, abuse, and discrimination (both based on gender and ethnicity) in any way.

Better safe than sorry, you know

 

[fallenmystic]

"Huh? What did you just say? Say that again?" Raisin raised her eyebrows as she cocked her head, demanding 4931 to confirm her suspicion.
Without confidence, 4931 repeated what she thought to be the proper ritual, "I... want to eat, Ma'am," slightly emphasizing 'Ma'am' this time.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Raisin walked from behind the barrels to confront 4931, making angry noise with chains from her shackled feet clashing on the ground. Several girls turned their heads to watch the commotion, some of whose faces still littered with the mess they had been stuffing their mouth with.

4931 tensed her body as a pair of dark-skinned legs stopped in front of her. She could almost smell Raisin's scent, whose soot-black mound hovering on a level with her lowered head. Her lips were of the same color as her nipples. "Say that again," she asked again with increasing irritation.

I could sense a hint of suppressed anger in Raisin's icy-cold voice. Without daring to raise her head, 4931 threw a desperate glance towards me. I closed my eyes, knowing that she was now beyond any help.

"I... ARRG!" As soon as 4931 uttered the word, Raisin gave her a full swing with her ladle on 4931's face, throwing her full body flying to the side. Unlike us, her wrist shackles weren't connected by chains. 4931's body crashed into the barrels, with her head hit one of them with a loud thump and toppled it. Connected to her by the chains, I lost my balance collapsed near Raisin's feet. As the noise reverberated across the space, now all the eyes in the hall were gazing in our general direction. Soon, the entire place fell into a deadly silence.

"Jeeze, you monkeys can't even behave while you eat?" An irritated voice came from the other side of the hall.

It was the overseer who was sitting at the table. He unfastened his braided whip from the belt and began striding towards us. Raisin quickly fell on the ground on her knees and dropped her head, and I immediately followed suit near 4931's sprawled body. Soon, his now spotless boots stopped between Raisin's obediently spread thighs.

"Explain." He asked bluntly.
"That crazy cunt dared to call itself 'I,' Master," Raisin replied without raising her eyes off the ground, "So this slave had to teach it a lesson, Master."
"Is that so?" He raised his brows with irritation.

Flexing his arm to uncoil his whip, the overseer turned toward 4931, who was still recovering from her head trauma. Lying face down, her milky bottom seemed to present a perfect target for the polished leather.

I pleaded in a desperate voice, "May this slave spea..." which was abruptly cut short by his angry command, "Silent!"

Rejecting my request without even looking back, he raised his muscular arm high above his shoulders, ready to strike a lesson into this unruly animal. But he stopped. He cocked his head and studied 4931's buttocks, which looked as milky as her breasts without any scars or marks. Then, I realized what stopped 4931's seemingly unavoidable fate.

I didn't notice it before, but now I see that she didn't have the training brand on her buttock. I saw she had the barcode properly tattooed above her shaven mound, so I assumed that she would have all the other required marks of a registered slave girl. Our numbers are mostly for the convenience of our owners, so they consist of just four digits. However, if you want to identify a random slave you don't know, you need to scan the barcode, typically tattooed above her mound. It denotes her registration number, and if you run it through the national slave registry, you can get her full history. In a slave processing facility, all new entries are examined thoroughly and graded according to the result. After that, they are put to intense training, which lasts from 3 to 12 months, depending on their intended use. Regardless of the duration, they are branded when they finish the course successfully, with a distinctive mark of the training facility. which is often called a 'training brand.'

"Turn over!" Without waiting for 4931 to perform his command, he kicked her butts hard to make her groan and twist her body from pain. As soon as she revealed her front-side, he put his boot upon her pelvis and pushed hard, turning her over like a pancake. Even before 4931 could realize what was happening, he gave her each leg a hard kick to splay them open and took a photo of her exposed mound with his smartphone. He surely knew how to handle his cattle with the utmost efficiency.

"Interesting..." He uttered to himself, as he scrolled through the result he got from the scan. While he was reading her history, 4931 finally managed to gather herself up, still trembling with the shock, however. As she awkwardly assumed the expected position, the chains connected our collars rattled against the hard ground, grabbing the overseer's attention to me.

He suddenly turned his face towards me and asked, "Why is this monkey chained to that half-breed chink?"

After getting his permission to speak, I repeated the explanation I gave to the other overseer whom 4931 and I met on our way to the Feeding Hall to him.

"So, you think a beast can teach a half-beast some tricks?" he sneered, "Of course, some shameless man humping a yellow monkey doesn't produce a proper human being somehow."

He grabbed the chains near my collar and casually pulled it upward like a leash. "But at least, that thing has more human elements in its blood than all of you stupid monkeys combined, don't you think?" He suddenly gave my raised sex a savage kick before throwing my leash away.

I grabbed my crotch with both hands and folded my body in half, writhing helplessly with agonizing pain. It took a while before I could present myself properly and gave him an answer, "This... slave is just a dumb animal, Master. It lacks neither intelligence nor right to judge a command she was given from her owner, Master."

"A clever one, huh?" with a satisfied, but somewhat sadistic grin, he continued, "But I agree. It was silly of me to think you can have any opinion at all. Don't worry, you can still be useful in a different way." He turned his face to Raisin and commanded her, "Raisin, get that barrel over here!"
"Yes, Master!" She immediately sprang to her feet and ran towards the toppled barrel. Even it was almost empty, she could not lift it herself, so she had to roll it to the spot that the overseer pointed with his finger.

As soon as Raisin completed her task, he turned his face to me and issued a command, "Inspect!"
"Yes, Master," I answered, and threw my back on the ground immediately, extending my hands to each side of my head, palms upward. Then, I raised my legs high up in the air and threw them widely apart, completely exposing all the essential parts of a slave girl for easy inspection, hence its name. Finally, I turned my head to the left side, and as I performed the position countless times before.

"Raisin, grab what's left in that barrel and stuff it into this chink's cunt, all of it!"

4931's jaw dropped with horror. I could hear some gasp from some of the girls. I bit down my lower lip and tensed my body, anticipating what was to come.
"Ummm... Ah!" My female part was already well stretched by repeated use and abuse. But, I could not suppress occasional moans and groans. My hip helplessly gyrated on the ground as Raisin's merciless fingers busily slip in and out of my body, delivering slippery mess deep inside. Twitching and convulsing with hunger, my sex devoured the gruel, sometimes sucking, sometimes biting its feeding hand.

As Raisin was almost finished emptying the barrel, the overseer suddenly turned toward 4931, who was struggling to keep her pose and asked, "What are you?" At his question, dozens of eyes darted to her vulnerable body.

"I..." she stopped suddenly and widened her eyes with fear, "...it, it is a slave... Master!"
"And?"
"A... a cunt, Master." She dropped her head low, looking down on her shamelessly exposed sex.
"And?"
"...a half-breed, Master." Tears began to form from her eyes.
"Half-breed of what?"
"...a monkey... Master."

Her shaky voice was barely audible by now. As soon as she finished her admission of her new identity, she broke into an uncontrollable sob. I felt sorry for her and prayed that she wouldn't get punished for her breakdown. I know it was something inevitable, but somehow, I didn't feel it fair for her to suffer in the same way as the rest of poor girls in this mine did. Maybe it was partly because now I know for a fact that she had more human genes than me. But it wasn't just that. I just didn't want to see her perfect body to be damaged and disfigured like ours. I would feel sorry if that china-like surface of her breasts gets broken with whip marks and cigarette burns. And these breasts... looking how 4931 holding her hands behind her head pushing them so prominently forward, I felt something; something strange that I have never felt before.

After observing 4931 for a while, the overseer pointed a spot in front of his feet with his whip. With a satisfied grin, he issued a new command, "Crawl here," as he whipped the ground to emphasize his words.

4931 's body jolted at the crack of his whip. And like a circus animal learning a trick from its tamer, she obeyed his command with instinctive fear and docility. Putting her hands tentatively on the ground, she raised her hip and began to push herself forward. With every awkward step, her well-developed breasts would sway to each side between her arms. Soon she riched her destination, but she dared not raise her chest, waiting for his next command with her head lowered at his boots.

Looking down on 4931', the overseer casually ran the tail of his whip across her prostrated body, "What do you say when you are hungry?"
"This cunt... is begging to be fed, Master," she answered demurely, shuddering at the sense of the polished leather on her vulnerably exposed skin.
"What cunt?" he asked as he pushed his boot under 4931's chest, repeatedly tapping up her left breast where she was branded.
"Cunt four... nine...... three, one, Master," with some difficulty, she managed to read her numbers from her jiggling breast.
Suddenly, the overseer gave her a light kick across her breasts and yelled, "Now, do it AGAIN!"
"Cunt four-nine-three-one is begging to be fed, Master!" She repeated her degradation through her tears.
"Granted!"
"......"

4931 froze at his word, perplexed by what she just heard. Or maybe she knew what was expected of her, but her brain just refused to register such an unthinkable command.

He roughly grabbed 4931's collar from behind and dragged her stunned face between my legs. I was still keeping the 'Inspect' position as commanded, lying on the ground with my legs raised high and wide apart. I felt thick liquid oozing out from my opening, slowly running down along my butt crease. 4931 widened her eyes in horror, finally realizing what was going to happen from the approaching sight of the disgusting mess. Frantic shaking of her face scared the flies off, which had been sucking on my folds. But they kept buzzing around close, unwilling to give up their feast so easily.

"Please! Master! Plea... UMMPH!" Her frantic protest soon turned into muffled cries, as her mouth forcefully kissed my lips, crushing her nose against my hood. I gasped and swallowed down a moan.

"You begged to be fed, so I just granted your wish. What is the problem?" the overseer sneered sardonically, as he held 4931's collar with his strong hand, smudging my sex with her face. Poor 4931 kept retching and gagging alternately at the revolting stench of my unwashed sex and half-spoiled gruel.

The overseer suddenly jerked her collar back, "Why? You don't like the food? Or, maybe the opening is too small for you? I can make it large enough for your whole head to fit if you want," he asked with unmistakable cruelty in his tone.

"No... NO!... please no, Master!" she shook her head violently, still trying to catch her breath.
"Then, EAT! You filthy swine!" He released her collar and pushed her head back between my legs with his boot.

Desperately suppresing a retch, 4931 tried her best to suck disgusting the mess out of my stinking sex. Despite my pity for her ordeal, I felt something warm inside my stuffed womanhood.

CRACK! A vicious strike landed across 4931's raised buttocks as soon as she sucked a mouthful of the gruel out of my cavity.

"AAAHH!" she screamed wildly at her first experience of what the braided leather can do to a girl's naked skin. As she wailed on top of her lungs, a spray of the gruel bursted out of her mouth and landed all over my crotch area, adorning my bushes with bits like a Christmas tree.

"Don't you feel grateful to be fed, bitch?" The overseer asked in an almost cordial tone.
"Th..thank you. Thank you... Master." She barely managed to let out an answer through her tears.
"Good dog, and don't forget to lap it all up." He casually added as he tapped his boot near 4931's face before he walked away, pointing a spot littered with spilled and sprayed chunks of the sticky mess.

He paused as he passed by my side and looked down on my face. He lifted his legs alternately to examine the residue of the gruel stuck beneath his boots. He smirked, "See how fast those mixed-breeds learn the tricks? They have some intelligence, you know," as he casually cleaning them up upon my breasts, using my nipples to scrape the bits off from the surface.

With his words, he walked away. Returning to his table, to finish his coffee.

(To be continued...)

 

[fallenmystic]

I have a small question, by the way. From the looks of it, many of the stories in this site share a character named 'Barbara Moore' which seems to be a running joke of a kind, probably connected to the nick name of one of our admins.

Am I correct in assuming this? And would it be disrespectful, if I use the name in my story without asking? Soon, I'll need to give actual names to some of my characters beside their 'numbers', so I had to ask.

Also, if there's any other such 'running jokes' that I'm not aware of, I'd appreciate if you could enlighten me. Thanks!

 

[Barbaria1]

I have a small question, by the way. From the looks of it, many of the stories in this site share a character named 'Barbara Moore' which seems to be a running joke of a kind, probably connected to the nick name of one of our admins.

Am I correct in assuming this? And would it be disrespectful, if I use the name in my story without asking? Soon, I'll need to give actual names to some of my characters beside their 'numbers', so I had to ask.

Also, if there's any other such 'running jokes' that I'm not aware of, I'd appreciate if you could enlighten me. Thanks!

Barbara Ann Moore is a character name that appears in all of my stories here on CruxForums, as well as in stories that I have written in collaboration with other members. She has also often appeared in stories written independently by others. She has certain well known characteristics, many of which have become “running jokes”. She is, to name a few, rebellious, contemptuous of authority, impulsive, not inclined to read the fine print or think things through before plunging ahead with ill-conceived schemes. She also has a reputation for incompetence behind the wheel of a vehicle, refusing to engage in fellatio, or at least avoiding swallowing when forced to do so anyway. She is a brunette, with a tight little ass, and a passing resemblance to the porn actress, Little Caprice. She has appeared in a number of stories with, Stan Goldman, a retired New York police detective, whom she teases for watching endless reruns of the tv sitcom, Seinfeld, among other things. Over the years here on CF, she has been tortured, crucified, hanged, impaled, and so on, so many times that no one keeps count anyMoore, only to come back to life in another story. In looks, attitude, and a few other things I won’t go in to here, she is a caricature of me, And if you wish to use her as a character in your fine story, go right ahead,

 

[fallenmystic]

Barbara Ann Moore is... a caricature of me, And if you wish to use her as a character in your fine story, go right ahead,

I'm afraid she'll have to reconsider some of her traits - notably her reluctance to offer her mouth - in my story, but I hope she'd enjoy her Asian incarnation here.

Thanks much for such detailed explanation of her character, and allowing me to use her name in my story!

 

[messaline]

I planned to make this story to span over at least several months, depicting the relationship between the protagonist and her charge.

Why do you want to span it so long ? A relatively short story but with QUALITY could be better than a too much long ...

 

[fallenmystic]

Why do you want to span it so long ? A relatively short story but with QUALITY could be better than a too much long ...

I certainly don't intend to write a 'General Hospital' of a BDSM story (e.g. - "You know, 9310, my grand mother 4931 once told me..."), even if I could

I didn't mean to cover my characters' story on a daily basis over that long span of time - my imagination isn't that vivid for such a purpose. But for my intended conclusion of the story the new girl, 4931 (or 'Barbara Moore', as she will turn out soon) needs to experience her new life in the mine for several months at least, for credibility.

So, after her first day in the mine, I'll certain fast-forward my story as needed so I don't have to resort to meaningless fillers or repetitions.

Hope it answers your question

 

[old slave]

The next episode is by far the longest and the most extreme one so far. I tried to tone down the intensity but I suppose it wasn't enough. And I'm aware that the characters, settings, and tone, and even punctuations of the story are quite inconsistent across the episodes.

I suppose it's something inevitable as I'm learning how to write a story by doing various experiments. But I'll definitely rewrite to make them more consistent once I finish the story.

Oh, one last thing. As you can see, the story now contains quite heavy amount of racial elements. On a site where people discuss the beauty of naked, crucified girls, I believe such a disclaimer wouldn't really be necessary. But I'm new here and people don't know me yet, so I'll make my intentions clear about the subject.

Everything I write in my story is a pure fantasy, and I never condone any real life violence, abuse, and discrimination (both based on gender and ethnicity) in any way.

Better safe than sorry, you know

I hope and presume we all know stories here are pure fantasy, and most of us have said at one time that we do not condone violence, discrimination etc IRL (in real life).

Your story is 'gritty', depicting cruelty not justified by the situation. However, so far it is no worse than real-life scenarios which have occured over the past 2000 years all over the world. It is still milder than some current and past stories elsewhere on this forum.

So I suggest you continue as you had planned, just have a read of the "Terms and rules" section you find at bottom right of every screen, the most important of which is underage characters.

As for your English, grammar, punctuation etc, I say "Stop worrying" there are a few very minor problems, but nothing which detracts from the understanding of 'this humble slave'.

 

[twonines]

Barbara Ann Moore is a character name that appears in all of my stories here on CruxForums, as well as in stories that I have written in collaboration with other members. She has also often appeared in stories written independently by others. She has certain well known characteristics, many of which have become “running jokes”. She is, to name a few, rebellious, contemptuous of authority, impulsive, not inclined to read the fine print or think things through before plunging ahead with ill-conceived schemes. She also has a reputation for incompetence behind the wheel of a vehicle, refusing to engage in fellatio, or at least avoiding swallowing when forced to do so anyway. She is a brunette, with a tight little ass, and a passing resemblance to the porn actress, Little Caprice. She has appeared in a number of stories with, Stan Goldman, a retired New York police detective, whom she teases for watching endless reruns of the tv sitcom, Seinfeld, among other things. Over the years here on CF, she has been tortured, crucified, hanged, impaled, and so on, so many times that no one keeps count anyMoore, only to come back to life in another story. In looks, attitude, and a few other things I won’t go in to here, she is a caricature of me, And if you wish to use her as a character in your fine story, go right ahead,

And that concludes the case for the Defence, My Lord.

 

[fallenmystic]

As for your English, grammar, punctuation etc, I say "Stop worrying" there are a few very minor problems, but nothing which detracts from the understanding of 'this humble slave'.

Thanks for the advice about the T&R.

In the process of imagining a backstory, I thought about a scenario where only 'A grade' girls get sent to the breeding facility when they get old, so they can produce the next generation of slave girls with better genes. However, I couldn't think of any credible way to explain away how those offsprings can be protected from sexual assaults for 18+ years. So I decided either drop the setting altogether or just don't mention that part to conform to the underage rules. Either way, I'll make sure I won't inadvertently violate any such rules regarding underage characters

As to my English, I suppose I think too much of it as you said but still it's been a real problem for me. I know what such common words like 'shackles' or 'puddle' mean when I read them, but often I cannot think them up when I have their image in my head first. So I constantly have to Google such things like "what is that cylinder-like thing with extending bars called in English, to which slaves are chained and forced to spin?" (It's a real question, by the way. Because that's how they have electricity in the mine.)

And often, I simply can't put my idea in my head into a coherent sentence in English. So I'm writing the whole thing on Grammarly to get the basic grammar right (but I still can see quite a few mistakes in my previous episodes), but it takes much time and often much of the tone, nuiance, or embellishment that my original idea had in my head is lost in the process.

I'm not arguing or complaining anything. But I just want to say that it's not something that I can simply stop caring. Because if I do that, you'd be all reading "By Fate, Chained I (Yoda English edition)" by now

 

[twonines]

Thanks for the advice about the T&R.

In the process of imagining a backstory, I thought about a scenario where only 'A grade' girls get sent to the breeding facility when they get old, so they can produce the next generation of slave girls with better genes. However, I couldn't think of any credible way to explain away how those offsprings can be protected from sexual assaults for 18+ years. So I decided either drop the setting altogether or just don't mention that part to conform to the underage rules Either way, I'll make sure I won't inadvertently violate any such rules regarding underage characters

As to my English, I suppose I think too much of it as you said but still it's been a real problem for me. I know what such common words like 'shackles' or 'puddle' mean when I read them, but often I cannot think them up when I have their image in my head first. So I constantly have to Google such things like "what is that cylinder-like thing with extending bars called in English, to which slaves are chained and forced to spin?"

And often, I simply can't put my idea in my head into a coherent sentence in English. So I'm writing the whole think on Grammarly to get the basic grammar right (but I still can see quite a few mistakes in my previous episodes), but it takes much time and often much of the tone, nuiance, or embellishment that my original idea had in my head is lost in the process.

I'm not arguing or complaining anything. But I just want to say that it's not something that I can simply stop caring. Because if I do that, you'd be all reading "By Fate, I Chained (Yoda English edition)" by now

You need have no concerns about your English, it is fine and we understand you very well.Even when the grammar is perfect, it is difficult to replicate the idiom of native speakers so please do not worry about it.

 

[montycrusto]

"what is that cylinder-like thing with extending bars called in English, to which slaves are chained and forced to spin?

Capstan, windlass, turbine, mill or treadmill.. it depends. I think “capstan” might fit best in this scenario.. others may disagree..

 

[old slave]

what is that cylinder-like thing with extending bars called in English, to which slaves are chained and forced to spin?"

capstan

treadmill

 

[fallenmystic]

You need have no concerns about your English, it is fine and we understand you very well.Even when the grammar is perfect, it is difficult to replicate the idiom of native speakers so please do not worry about it.

capstan

Ah, you're the best! Thanks

 

[windar]

Oh, one last thing. As you can see, the story now contains quite heavy amount of racial elements.

I usually have characters from a wide variety of ethnic backgrounds in my stories, though they are generally, like Bruce Springsteen, born in the USA. Mostly because I'm too lazy to do the research to make them believable otherwise. Though Barb and I did a story where I wrote mostly from the viewpoint of a Moroccan pirate in the early 19th century...She was as always Barbara Moore...

 

[fallenmystic]

I usually have characters from a wide variety of ethnic backgrounds in my stories, though they are generally, like Bruce Springsteen, born in the USA. Mostly because I'm too lazy to do the research to make them believable otherwise. Though Barb and I did a story where I wrote mostly from the viewpoint of a Moroccan pirate in the early 19th century...She was as always Barbara Moore...

You know he still sang about killing "the yellow man" I love The Boss by the way.

Seriously though, I think it could be an interesting thing to discuss here. Being an Asian myself who live in a country where there's rampant racism among its people, I think I have gained a perspective on both sides of the spectrum regarding racial prejudice in real life.

But in my fantasies, I'm mostly attracted by such ideas in which females are objectified or treated like something below human beings. For such settings, I find that racial themes could be a perfect device to create a believable backstory.

On a side note, I sometimes find it a bit unsettling that things like 'Ottoman slavers' or 'Tartar raiders' are frequently used to create a BDSM story in which civilized, white innocent girls are tormented by savage colored people. I'm not saying that such stories are bad or we shouldn't love such stories - after all, I'm writing a story with extreme racial elements.

But it's more difficult to tell if it's a pure fantasy or the author indeed has certain prejudice against non-European people, compared to such obvious fantasies which involve civilized African people enslaving savage Europeans, for example.

 

[windar]

You know he still sang about killing "the yellow man" I love The Boss by the way.

Seriously though, I think it could be an interesting thing to discuss here. Being an Asian myself who live in a country where there's rampant racism among its people, I think I have gained a perspective on both sides of the spectrum regarding racial prejudice in real life.

But in my fantasies, I'm mostly attracted by such ideas in which females are objectified or treated like something below human beings. For such settings, I find that racial themes could be a perfect device to create a believable backstory.

On a side note, I sometimes find it a bit unsettling that things like 'Ottoman slavers' or 'Tartar raiders' are frequently used to create a BDSM story in which civilized, white innocent girls are tormented by savage colored people. I'm not saying that such stories are bad or we shouldn't love such stories - after all, I'm writing a story with extreme racial elements.

But it's more difficult to tell if it's a pure fantasy or the author indeed has certain prejudice against non-European people, compared to such obvious fantasies which involve civilized African people enslaving savage Europeans, for example.

All I can do is try to be an equal opportunity abuser. I have stories in which white girls are abused by Asians and Africans (who do the same and worse to their own people) and ones in which girls of a variety of races are abused by whites. The common element, I suppose, is that the abusers are rich and powerful or are employed or manipulated by rich and powerful men. It is the power dynamic that is the most interesting I think.

 

[Barbaria1]

You know he still sang about killing "the yellow man" I love The Boss by the way.

Seriously though, I think it could be an interesting thing to discuss here. Being an Asian myself who live in a country where there's rampant racism among its people, I think I have gained a perspective on both sides of the spectrum regarding racial prejudice in real life.

But in my fantasies, I'm mostly attracted by such ideas in which females are objectified or treated like something below human beings. For such settings, I find that racial themes could be a perfect device to create a believable backstory.

On a side note, I sometimes find it a bit unsettling that things like 'Ottoman slavers' or 'Tartar raiders' are frequently used to create a BDSM story in which civilized, white innocent girls are tormented by savage colored people. I'm not saying that such stories are bad or we shouldn't love such stories - after all, I'm writing a story with extreme racial elements.

But it's more difficult to tell if it's a pure fantasy or the author indeed has certain prejudice against non-European people, compared to such obvious fantasies which involve civilized African people enslaving savage Europeans, for example.

Speaking for myself, I would say that the motive has to do with identifying a situation to write about in which evil has occurred that I find sufficiently threatening to write about. History is full of such things ... enslavement and persecution have always been a part of the human condition, and it has often had racial, religious or cultural motivations ... think of Roman persecutions, witch trials, Nazi Gestapo Terror, etc. To set a CF story in one of these situations, historically or dystopian, does not necessarily imply the author is racist. It’s just good plausible story telling, although it certainly can contain a moral message.