Khadi's Story 14: The boy Heesm writes to his tribal Elders

O Elders of the Watchers on the Plains, Greetings.

I am learning to be a slave to Golden Sword, He who shall open the Gate and restore the Power. I have sung to Him the Song of Sanga, and I have sworn total obedience. He has eaten my testicles and penis, and I am his.

Yesterday in His kindness He began obedience training. I was put on display and lent for the night to one who wished to use me, the captain of a fishing-boat. He tied my wrists behind my back and led me naked through the streets on a leash.

When we reached his ship the sailor had me hung by my wrists and flogged, not so much that I was not awake but enough that I wept and cried like a child who has not killed his first buffalo, and begged for mercy like an animal about to be slaughtered. A slave has no dignity.

They left me tied by my wrists, lifted up my legs and bound my ankles about the mast so that my bottom stuck out, and the sailors took turns in entering my anus, using me for sex until I sobbed and sobbed. To have no choice but to accept pain when it gives others pleasure, for no other reason than to satisfy their lust, is to be truly owned.

The One I am too lowly to name has said that He will set me free, but in truth I know now that I shall always be His slave. If He frees me, I shall be free to offer myself to Him as His slave.

When the sailors had finished their sex, they unhooked my arms and ankles but left my wrists tied behind my back. I could not stand, but they had me lie down on the deck and lick clean the mess where I had voided myself, and where their semen had splattered.

They laughed and fed me with some decaying fish, raw and rotten; when I threw it up they had me eat my vomit. I had already eaten my Owner's excrement and vomit, but he uses his mighty Power to turn those things into good food. Or perhaps when I am with Him I can eat anything.

When they had tired of watching me eat they whipped me some more, gave me fresh water to drink, and played with me some more. I had to beg each of them in turn to let me kiss his feet and to hurt me. Some kicked me in the face or chest, others whipped or beat me. In this way I am learning to accept whatever happens to me, like a good slave, but it is difficult. I thank you, O Elders of the Plains, for the severity of the upbringing you gave me, that you beat me often and taught me how to behave, in readiness for this day.

They sailors left me chained on the deck with a pike of fish to gut and dress before dawn. I was forbidden to eat any of the fresh fish, but they left me a dozen more rotten ones to devour, along with my own excrement and vomit. They left fresh water for me, and I was not commanded to drink my own urine, perhaps because the fish were so salty.

I got no sleep, and the lesson of the morning was that there is neither praise nor reward for a slave who works well: the sailors again used me for sex, and flogged me some more, then set me to cleaning the rough and slimy wooden decks with the edges of my bare feet, making piles of oily grime and licking them up. When I had finished I was bleeding from my back because of the whip, my anus from the sex, my feet and tongue from the work, and yet I knelt before the captain and begged him for more work, to make me work until I dropped.

The captain looked at me as if assessing my worth, as if I was a rope or a sail. I wondered whether He whom I am unworthy to name had sold me.

I was given more work to do, coiling ropes until my hands were blistered, and then made to lie on my back on the deck while my chest was whipped, then given more work, until I think there was no part of my body that was not bruised or bleeding, and until I could think of nothing except concentrating on obeying commands.

Finally I fell faint with hunger and exhaustion, and cold water and the whip did not arouse me. When I awoke, I was being dragged naked through the city streets behind a horse by a rope tied to my ankles. The streets are deep in mud; if they had been stony I should have died. I vomited. When the horse stopped, I was left standing up, tied to a post. There were eight other slaves nearby, some male and some female, and I could hear the sound of a whip. It was a public flogging-post.

There was no warning except footsteps behind me, but we were in a busy square, for many people like to watch a flogging. At home the floggings were private; if there are more People of the Plains to train to serve as slaves, I can say that a public flogging is a very effective humiliation. Whatever remained of the rotten fish after my vomiting, I voided, When I lost consciousness, they threw cold water over me to awaken me, and began again, until I was awake and called out after each of twenty strokes.

I already had a slave-mark branded onto my face, in front of the right ear. It is a circle, a symbol of the collar I wear. Now I have a second brand next to it, to show that I have received my first flogging. The first flog-mark greatly increases the resale value of a slave, but if I reach seven marks I shall be locked in a cage and starved to death.

I let myself scream when they branded me, and did not try to keep from sobbing afterwards. A slave has no dignity to preserve. My purpose in life is to serve my Master until I can have the honour of dying for Him.

The Punisher said that I shall remain here until my Owner collects me, and that I shall be whipped more before I am released, as a reminder. I do not know how to gain Power from pain, but I have enough for this Sending, so maybe it is automatic.

From time to time passers-by touch me, either to watch me flinch when they prod my welts or to run their hands over my bottom and pinch me, a reminder that I cannot refuse them. One even used me for sex, although most men prefer the female slaves. I saw one other boy taken down from his post: he was dead. All the other male slaves I can see are gelded, like me. At least it means we do not need sexual release ourselves, and perhaps it helps me to be more accepting. I do not know (for we are not permitted to speak) whether the other slaves did wrong, or if, like me, they were being trained.

After today, I know that I shall be trying to be as obedient as I can. I am barely alive, but when I can speak, if it is permitted, I shall beg my Owner to be firm with me, so that I never need to be punished this severely.

O Elders of the Plains, rejoice, for one you trained has become a slave to the Golden Sword, and the Prophecy is to be fulfilled. As it is written, I give my all to him, even my life, and I know that the Gate will open after the death.

A slave,

Heesm