Chapter 1 - Three Sisters

 Wallace never thought anything good could come from being associated with his family. Though they were once held in high esteem, his grandfather squandered his chance at being knighted when it was found he engaged in the most foul kind of slave trading. Then his father drank, gambled, and whored away whatever was left of the old man’s divided fortune, while every other sibling moved on to achieve great things - and consequently never speak to Wallace’s branch of the family ever again. 

 Things were becoming so hard for him in England that he was quite ready to give up on it all and head over to America as his younger brother did. Though he was in his mid thirties, he was still a slim, good-looking man with thick brown locks and a set of green eyes that dazzled the ladies. Quite unlike the rotund, balding men that he worked with wherever he could find a modest wage. But despite getting the attention even of a few upper-class ladies, he was too proud to marry into a good position. What he got, he would earn the right way. 

 The temptation to earn easy money was everywhere, but Wallace remained a godly man that knew all good things would come from the Almighty if men simply followed their hearts and stayed true and pure. At times he was glad that there was nothing for him to inherit from his family, for he feared what hell his grandfather might be living in for putting those poor dark tribal souls into slavery. That he lost everything was proof of God’s wrath; and that they were soon set free was proof of God’s inherent justice. 

 So it was with great shock that he was informed near Christmas that his uncle William, a man that had left English soil before he was born, was dead. Not only that, but he had perished without any living heir, which left his estate and everything it contained in Wallace’s name. 

 For Wallace, who was living on his last shillings, this was nothing if not a boon from the Lord. “And where is my uncle’s estate, sir?” 

 At which point the little old man presenting these facts lowered his spectacles and frowned. “Quite frankly, my boy, I’m not entirely sure myself. It is certainly on the Dark Continent, however, so pack for a long way ahead.”

 It took nearly half a year for him to reach his inheritance given that he first needed to find the funds to make such a journey and then the right ship to take him there. But in the beginning of June, only days after his thirty-sixth birthday, he stood before a gated estate in the heart of Africa, looking at a mansion done in a French style that belonged back home. 

 There was no portier to welcome him, but after a few minutes of looking at the awesome building that was now to be his home, a young-looking black girl came out of the house and rushed to the gate. “Who are you?” she asked in a thick, difficult accent. 

“I am… Uhm…” Wallace was rather taken aback by the girl before him. Though he had spoken to quite a few Africans since he had arrived on the continent, the beauty of the girl before him was rather striking. Her eyes were liquid, her brown skin looked soft, and her lips were full and sensual in a way that made the women back home look not fully grown by comparison. Only her outfit was dull and ill-fitting, looking more like a nun’s than any proper servant’s back in England.

 He spent a few minutes explaining his predicament and showing his papers, and then she smiled, a beautiful smile that nearly knocked the middle-aged Englishman back for the ferocity in it. “Yes, Monsieur Wallace, come in yeah. We are expected you.” 

 He went past the gate and watched her lock it, then followed her up the path that led to the mansion. “You see, most people have left,” she said, fingers pointing to the empty areas before the mansion.

“Is that so?” said Wallace, completely unfamiliar with the circumstances of the place.

“Many worked for Master. He said they would be free if he die. And now he is dead, so they have free.” 

 From what she described, there must have been dozens of people on the estate, working the extensive lands that lay beyond the gated property. And all of them slaves, thought Wallace, shuddering. It was good that they were set free and left. He certainly could not imagine facing those poor men.

 The girl took him to the parlor and fetched him a cold glass of honeyed water, then called out in her native tongue. Wallace heard some banging and then two other girls made their appearance. Each one was more beautiful than the last. They couldn't have been more than one or two years apart at most, but it was clear that the one that welcomed him was the oldest and the most friendly of the three. The middle-one’s eyes bore right into him as her face remained emotionless, back straight as if she were assuming a military position. Of the three, she was also the darkest, with her skin so luxuriantly black it nearly matched her dark-brown, almost black eyes. The youngest was so shy she could not look at him.

“This is Maria,” said the oldest pointing to the youngest. “This ugly one ‘ere is Beatrice.” The middle one scowled harder at that. 

 Wallace gulped. “And you are?” 

“Me? I am Elizabeth,” she said with a smile. “Like queen.”

 Wallace found himself smiling alongside her. Those were certainly easy European names for such African beauties. “And what do you three do around here?” 

“Whatever Master wants,” snapped Beatrice. Her English accent, he noted, was far more pronounced than Elizabeth’s. Had he not seen her first, he could’ve assumed that accent belonged to some immigrant working the streets of Manchester. 

“But your... master,” he repeated unpleasantly, feeling nauseous from the word, “is dead.”

 Elizabeth shook her head. “Of course not, monsieur. You our master now.” 

 Wallace blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You master. We your slaves.” 

“I will not accept any slaves,” he said sternly. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re all free now.” 

 Maria’s face lit up. “Truly?”

“Don’t be stupid,” whispered Beatrice. “He’s lying. He’ll beat you. Shut up!”

“No, I’m serious!” Wallace insisted. “I had no idea that there was anyone here that was a slave, else I would have telegramed early. I have no desire to keep slaves or perpetuate such evildoing. By the grace of God we are born free to lead noble lives in the light.” 

 Elizabeth just laughed at him. “You speak the nonsense, Master.”

“Well no, I don’t,” he said, sounding more harsh than before. “I do not consider you my slaves.”

“Then where we go? What we do? This thing is our life. Here is home.”

“I’m not sending you away. You’re welcome to stay.”

 It was clear from her dismissive look that she was bored with his words and disinterested. She spoke to the two other girls in their language, directing them to different tasks. Then she turned back. “Come, Master. I show you to room.” 

 Wallace was not quite pleased with her behavior but it would have been ironic to try and scold her given his insistence that she was to be a free woman. So he followed in her footsteps, his eyes glancing at the cheap-looking paintings that filled the walls, most of them replicas of famous ones, be it Rembrandt or Van Gogh.

 Elizabeth opened two great double-doors inlaid with ivory and welcomed him into a spacious room that was dusty, hot, and decorated with the trophies of different local animals. “Master need anything, you tell me.” 

 As she made to go, Wallace grabbed her by the wrist. “Wait!... Elizabeth. I spoke true before. I do not know what paperwork might be required in these parts, but you have my word, I will set all three of you free.” 

“My sisters do not know what they say. They speak the nonsense, Master. We are your slaves.” She suddenly raised her finger as if to make a point. Then she went over by the bed, opened a drawer, and came back to drop a leather whip in his palm. “This yours.”

“No,” said Wallace, turning away from it. Yet he held onto it.

“If Master does not like me, use it.” 

 And just like that, she closed the doors and left him there, holding the whip, utterly speechless. 

 Wallace was so exhausted that he fell asleep in the immense bed as soon as he lay down. When he woke, he looked around the room and found a couple of pictures. His uncle from what he could see was an immense man, though in many of the photos there was a woman with him, and even a child. So he had a son? What happened to him? 

 He left the room and walked around the mansion till he came across Beatrice sweeping the floors. “Hello,” he said kindly. But the black beauty showed only disgust and contempt as she turned away so not to see him whilst working.

 I am not welcome here at all. Not that I can blame them. Did my uncle truly whip such lovely girls into submission? Dear God, man, what floor in hell have you come to occupy? He did not want to think about what else the fat old man might have done with them, though the thoughts quickly assaulted his mind. The image of that big and fat hairy beast whipping Beatrice and having his way with her like an animal was inescapably odious. 

 Wallace pinched his nose and tried not to think of it as he made his way down the hall. Embarrassingly, the slimy devil that lives inside of all men was giving rise to temptation and stirring him where it should not have. Forgive me, Lord. 

 Then he bumped into Maria, who was startled just by seeing him so distressed. “Excuse me, can you tell me where Elizabeth is?” 

 The slender slave pointed to a door at the end of the hallway. Very well. He would go and have a real talk with her and make it clear that he was not going to live like this. He would not taint his Christian soul with this devilry. 

“Elizabeth!” he yelled, storming into the room with a real sense of purpose. 

 The slave stood at the far end by the open window, her naked body fully exposed in the dying evening light. Wallace could not tear his eyes away from the slender waist or wide hips. All the hair from her body was shaved, including what should have been between her legs. But it was her full breasts resting obscenely over her frail chest that knocked the wind out of him. They were so big that he could not imagine how he failed to see them under her clothing. 

“Master?” she said, looking not too concerned. 

“I’m sorry, I did not know…” Wallace failed to give a proper response. More importantly, he could not look away from that body. So young, so supple and luscious. And that dark, exotic skin…

 Elizabeth smiled and padded over, her breasts swaying as she closed the door. “Master has heat,” she said. Whether she was talking about his flushed cheeks or the hardened monster between his legs was hard to say. 

 Nor did it matter much.

“Master? Are you good?” 

 Wallace closed his eyes and tried to focus. “Yes, of course.” 

 Elizabeth took another step towards him and put her hands on his waist. She was so close now that he could feel the heat of her young body. “Do not be afraid, Master. Black girl is same as the white girl.” 

“That’s not the issue here,” said Wallace with a trembling voice. “Please, I’m sorry to have entered while you were in a state of undress.” 

 Elizabeth giggled and reached down to stroke his inner thigh with the back of her hand. “Master can take me. Can do the fucking all day.” 

“That is most inappropriate!”  

 But in spite of his words, she unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down along with his underpants, leaving his pulsating dick to swing freely. 

 Wallace opened his eyes and saw his reflection in her sweet, brown eyes. There was no turning back now and he knew it. His strong and calloused worker’s hands reached up to feel her full breasts, the white fingers digging into the tender brown flesh. Her dark nipples were fully hardened for him, and each time his thumb passed over them he could see her biting her lip in excitement. 

 Elizabeth just drank him up with her gaze, her eyes never once straying as if they were the ones commanding his actions. Wallace could no longer resist that wet mouth and kissed her, immediately sucking her tongue into his mouth as the gorgeous African body pressed against him in eager response. He was taller than she was, so that his dick throbbed against her tummy, sandwiched between the two of them as they made out.

 His hands wrapped around her protectively, stroking the elegant curve of her back and caressing the shoulder blades that protruded from her slender flame. As they traveled down, though, he was surprised by the roundness of her ass and the firmness of its cheeks. He had been with more than a dozen women back home, but not one of the ones he could think of possessing such an Aphroditic physique. 

 As her dark fingers finally wrapped around his raging shaft and squeezed, Wallace shuddered and hugged her tighter. “Gods, you vixen, did the Greeks make you?” he blurted.

 She stroked his cock only three times but it was enough to make him come. Wallace, who had not been with a woman in months, spilled his load all over her, with the thick ropes of his white seed going down her toned tummy, her shapely thighs, and even down to the hairless plane between her legs…

 Elizabeth scooped up some of his cum. “I’m so sorry!” he said. But contrary to what he expected, she did not wipe the seed but brought it into her mouth, licking the elegant fingers clean. Wallace watched her, amazed. Then she dropped down to her knees and brought the gorgeous lips to the head of his sensitive cock, sucking out the remaining drops by force. 

 Her mouth felt so good that he tottered backwards and hit the wall. His fingers reached down and ran through her hair as she sucked him off, so intoxicated by her that there was nothing else he could think of. Out the window he could see the red sun sinking past the horizon of the African plains. 

 Wallace knew from back home that some women could use their mouth, but those were usually the destitute trollops way past a good age that would’ve done anything for a shilling. No woman of good society would have done what Elizabeth now did. And yet nothing in his entire life of thirty-six ever felt as good as this did right now. 

 Elizabeth pleasured him till he came again, this time using her mouth to suck the seed right down her throat as it shot out. It felt so incredible that his brain fizzled in a funny way that made him think he was moments from passing out. And when she finished, he needed her arms to stabilize him and help him down to the floor.

“Master,” said Elizabeth. “It was good?” 

 The pure-hearted Wallace could only look into her eyes. “I love you.” 

“You speak the nonsense, Master!” 

 Just running his hands lovingly along the curves of her body was making him hard again. This time, Elizabeth grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him up. She opened the door and dragged him down the hallway back to his room. Beatrice was still in the hallway but pretended not to see their nakedness. 

 Once back in the master bedroom, Elizabeth slammed the door and got up on the bed. She lowered her head and brought her ass up, leaving her pink pussy exposed and wiggling tantalizingly before him. “Do you want, Master?” 

“God, yes!” he whispered. 

 Wallace rushed to her and brought his dick to her pussy. It was so deliciously pink that he almost wanted to eat it more than he wanted to fuck it, but as soon as the head slipped inside her welcoming and gentle hole there was no stopping him. He grabbed her by the waist and began to thrust in and out of her like a wild animal, smashing into her body with the pent-up energy of months spent unfairly by himself. 

 The black ass clapped for him as he impaled her on his dick, and after just a minute it was hard to think that the gasping and yelping little black girl under him was the same provocative and confident seductress from before. Hearing the pained moans that came from her drooling mouth made him grin confidently, like some great conqueror. 

“Is this what you African girls like?” he asked, slapping her jiggling ass. “It’s no surprise we made you ours if you’re this weak.” It felt a little wrong to say such things, yet seeing her lying there, taking it and enjoying it, made him want to push it even further. 

 Wallace ran his hand down her bony back and reached her neck. The strong white fingers closed around her throat till Elizabeth gagged and opened her eyes searchingly. 

“Come to think of it, maybe I’ll make you my slave after all. How can I deny you, when you seem to enjoy it this much?” 

 He lowered himself and kissed her lovingly as she choked for him, plunging his pillaging European dick into her submissive African pussy till she squirmed underneath him, clearly seeking to get away. Wallace destroyed her with a few final thrusts that sent her eyes rolling backwards, as white as the seed that was going to flow and paint her womb. 

 He let go of her throat as he came and kissed her right as she gasped for breath, forcing her to fight his mouth back as he devoured her. Her struggles were useless, and as his exploded inside of her Wallace could feel rope after rope of his cum filling her up. 

 Once it was finished, he cuddled her and lay next to her. 

 What have I done here ? 





 In the days that followed he fucked his Elizabeth several times a day, loudly enough that her screams rang throughout the mansion and shame filled him whenever he lay eyes on her two younger sisters. From Elizabeth he learned the full story of his uncle’s family and that of the three. 

 Elizabeth had come to live with her father and two sisters from early on, before the mansion was finished. Initially they were not slaves; but then the old master desired the three sisters and ended up enslaving them by force when he “bought” them from their father, who he subsequently had whipped and shot. The son ended up becoming infatuated with the sisters too, and the father accidentally killed him during an argument. Not long after, the old master drank himself to death. 

 A dark story, Wallace concluded. 

“You are better master,” Elizabeth told him. “And more handsome also.”  

 The Englishman promised himself that he would not ever exercise his powers in such a loathsome way. But as the days wore on with little to do at the estate, he became quite interested in Elizabeth’s younger siblings, who shared none of that interest. Especially in Beatrice, who constantly avoided him. 

“You want her, Master,” Elizabeth guessed as she caught him watching her sister one day. “Take her.”

“She doesn’t want me.”

“Beatrice is a slave. Does not matter what she wants.” 

“No, I would never sink to such a low…” 

 But in absence of other stimuli, his fantasies took over; he began to fuck Elizabeth thinking only of her sister, and soon could barely get hard at all without being in the presence of Beatrice. The ever-supportive Elizabeth simply put the whip in his hand and directed him to take what was his birthright. Not just as the master of the property, but as a white man. “She is black slave. You are white master. Take her.” 

 Wallace went to Beatrice feeling hesitant. “I have need of your services.” 

 The middle sister shook her head. “Tell me later.” 

 Her infuriatingly disobedient tone only made him harden more. Why was she mocking him like this? 

 Wallace took a deep breath, then unleashed the whip and hit the ground between them with it. “Come!” 

“You said we’re free now. Why would I go?”

 He was at a loss for words. He did say that. What was he doing now? This was so embarrassing… 

 In that moment, Elizabeth came forward and slapped her sister. “How you speak to Master that way?” She began to drag her younger sister away, saying, “Come! Come!” 

 The two took her by force to the master bedroom. Despite her attitude, Beatrice wasn’t hesitating much now that the moment came. Elizabeth took off her clothes, leaving her ebony body completely naked and vulnerable. “Punish her!” 

 Perhaps it was just to punish her for acting so badly? Wallace raised the whip reluctantly, then brought it down across Beatrice’s back. She cried weakly and it felt good to hear her learning her lesson. 

 Really good.

 Wallace whipped her two more times, his gaze falling to her trembling thighs and flexing toes. Her pussy gleamed and dripped with how wet it had become from the quick discipline. 

 These damned blacks enjoy being whipped and forced into things, he thought, angry with himself for enjoying this and angry with them for allowing it.

 Elizabeth held Beatrice down for him as he went into her. Unlike her older sister, this one shrieked at the top of her lungs when she got fucked. Wallace slapped her to try and quiet her down, but when that didn’t work he stuffed her mouth with the whip and made her bite down on it as he fucked her from behind. Elizabeth smiled up at him, looking pleased. 

 He fucked her as hard as he could, not just in hopes of teaching her how to act, but to make Elizabeth proud of having such a strong white master. He wasn’t even close to done when Beatrice came and began to shiver and sob, spitting out the whip so she could beg him to stop. “It hurts now! It hurts too much! It’s sensitive! Stop! Please, Master, Stop!” 

 She sounded just like one of those rags back home that whined after a simple tousle in bed. So dramatic. Wallace gave her a savage slap, then wrapped her whip around her neck and used it like a leash as he watched the ebony back arch violently as he raped her. Elizabeth hovered closer and gave him a deep kiss as her sister wept, and soon his cock got massaged so tightly by Beatrice’s young pussy that he came inside of her as he had dreamed of for days. 

 Following that night she became completely docile, as eager to satisfy him as a dog. It was only natural that the turn of the final sister, the youngest of the three, Maria, would come.

“Saintly Maria,” Wallace kept teasing her, petting her on the head as she passed him by. 

 This time, the other two surprised him with her. He had eaten well for lunch, taken a nap, and woke up to find them missing. Then he went outside to find the three of them standing in the yard, all three naked, their dark bodies oiled up and gleaming in the African sun. 

 Now his whip was with him at all times, dragging along on the ground like a snake. Beatrice twitched as she saw it but Elizabeth relished the sight of her white god. The youngest stood between them. Ninety pounds of dark sugar, only nineteen years old, with small breasts that were a perfect handful. 

“P-Please don’t hit me, Master,” she stammered, speaking perfect English. “I’m yours to use however you wish.” 

 Her two sisters held her as Wallace caressed her perfect body. He lowered his trousers and brought out his throbbing shaft, then rubbed it against her pussy. Maria sobbed. 

 Wallace bit her earlobe and whispered, “If I hear you crying, I’m going to whip you for each time it happens. Do you understand?” 

 The terrified Maria covered her mouth and nodded. He wasn’t actually going to do it, at least not to any real painful extent. But he loved to see the terror in her dark eyes, even more pronounced than it was in her sister’s. Only Elizabeth’s had that dark primal force in them associated with glorious savages. Eyes that might have once been blue and sacked Rome.. Beatrice and Maria, for all their dark beauty, had spent too long in this mansion. They were acting like boring, weakly English women. 

 The only difference was, these ones Wallace owned and could train to act proper. 

 With her sisters holding her by the arms, he slipped his cock inside of her and started taking her from behind in a standing position, fucking her till he moved his hand to the front and could feel the force of his dick sending spasms through her tummy. 

 Strange to think that only months ago he would’ve found this unbearable to think about. But then, this continent changed people. He had come here in hopes of getting some funds to start a real life for himself back home. Then he wanted to free these poor girls and be a good Christian man. 

 Now, as his white dick slammed into this black pussy nearly twenty years younger than it, all he thought about was how they needed to bring more pretty young slaves to the estate, and how he could breed them all and give birth to a new generation. 
 We’ll make this land a paradise, thought Wallace with a happy smile, already seeing it in his head... even as Maria howled from the pain he unleashed upon her. And I’ll be their god.