Dark Meat, Part 1: Diamond

Jeff goes to Haiti, and goes old school, 1800's style, as he adds black girls to his collection. Warning, contains racial humiliation, skip if that bothers you.

Haiti is the very definition of a 3rd world hellhole. A failed state, the poorest in the entire Western hemisphere. Natural disasters and a mismanaged economy, what little there was of one, along with violence and high levels of emigration, meant there were many poor and desperate people, and many orphans. Increasingly, entire areas were ruled by gangs, and lawlessness abounded. It was a hotspot for human trafficking, and the government, the NGOs, and the UN could, or would, do little about it.
In many cases, they were part of the problem.

To a large extent, Non-Governmental Organizations were unsupervised, so desperate was the country for aid. Corruption was rife, especially among UN employees. Lives were cheap in Haiti. Desperate parents sold their children, both to help feed the children that remained and in hopes that, wherever they ended up, the kids would be better off. Orphanages sold their charges to traffickers, turning charity into profit. People were kidnapped off the streets and sold into servitude. Or worse.

As a result, it was a fine place for Jeff Feinstein to acquire potential black members for his growing harem.
It was a dangerous place to do business, so Jeff was accompanied by a full contingent of 10 security personnel, 3 still with the jet, 7 with him personally. Jean-Baptiste "The Butcher" Duval did not mind. He had more men with him, and he knew Jeff not personally but by reputation. He was most interested in accessing Jeff’s services supporting criminal organizations around the world. Truth be told, he would have given the eight girls free of charge to Jeff. Flesh was cheap in Haiti.

Outside the capital of Port au Prince was an abandoned school that served as the center of Duval’s modern slavery organization. Trafficking victims were brought here, separated into groups by sex and age, and held in classrooms converted into cells. Generally, he shipped the product to buyers, but on occasion he would host those who wanted to inspect the merchandise personally. He even organized auctions for groups of buyers.

For such sales, the school’s auditorium served as display or auction hall. Today, more than two dozen girls, ages 14 to 17, were standing, chained and nude. Under the watchful eyes of his bodyguards, Jeff walked from girl to girl with Duval. He cast a critical eye over each, and asked his host questions about them. He also asked the girl’s themselves questions. He was interested in two qualities mainly: physical appearance and submissiveness.

One of the more interesting was a girl of sixteen who, despite the poverty she grew up in, had managed to grow fairly tall and develop a truly magnificent set of tits. According to Duval, her mother was actually a fairly successful prostitute, popular among the men with NGOs. She worked for Duval’s organization, and when the Butcher himself had offered the mother a reasonable sum for the girl, the woman had accepted. After all, Duval’s nickname came from his propensity for killing his enemies by carving them up while still alive. And then eating them.

“When I take the girl”, Duval said, laughing, “She tell her mother, ‘better be whore for one man than a thousand”.

Jeff laughed with his host. No doubt the girl had assumed she would be Duval’s whore. The joke was on her, though. The Butcher preferred boys. Young boys.

The girl was perhaps 5’7” tall. Her limbs were skinny, but her ass was fine and her tits a full 36D. They were not the droopy tits so common to black girls, and her hips and thighs had none of the chunkiness so common to ghetto hoes in the US. He skin was dark ebony, her hair short and kinky. Unlike the other girls, she did not cower, but she also would not meet Jeff’s eyes and flinched slightly at Duval’s touch.

Jeff bought the girl, whose name was Regine. He loved the irony and the pun. Her name meant ‘queen’. Now she would be a quean. Seven other girls were picked, from a petite little thing who looked like she had not eaten in a week to a girl almost as beautiful as Regine. Jeff did not bother learning their names. For now, they were commodities, collections of holes to be sampled. He would rename those he kept.

The slaves were led away for delivery to Jeff’s plane, which sat in a hangar in a private air strip nearby. Per Jeff’s instructions, the girls remained shackled but were hosed down to make sure they were clean. Then they were loaded into a covered truck, stolen from the army, driven to the hangar where the jet awaited, and led onto the plane.

Before he left, Jeff asked Duval to be on the lookout for a ‘special order’. Suzy’s birthday was coming up, and he wanted to give her a special present. He also put him in contact with one of his contractors to begin creation of secure means of communication, logistics, and moving money. Jeff also told Duval that he would personally see to it that he could list his wares on a dark web site. In return, Duval promised to find what Jeff was looking for and deliver him free of charge.

Jeff was the last on the jet. Two men were in the cockpit to fly the plane. Two more were in the back. The other six would be flying commercial home. First class of course, Jeff treated his staff well. Jeff himself walked down the aisle, past the eight girls chained to their seats without as much as a glance at any of them. He had a small private cabin in the rear. Compared to how their ancestors had arrived in the New World, these slaves were flying first class indeed. Still, being naked and chained was not a fun experience.

The plane took off uneventfully, the proper people having been paid the proper bribes to ensure the world was ignorant of the plane’s passengers. Thirty minutes after takeoff, Jeff came out from his cabin and looked over his new possessions. Each had their wrists in handcuffs and shackles on their ankles, sitting naked and afraid.

“I am your new Massa”, Jeff began. “I own you. You are my slaves, and I will treat you as such. You will obey, or you will suffer.” He looked them over, slowly. “You all know why a rich white man like me would buy pretty young niggers like you. You know what use I will put you to.”

He paused, letting that sink in. “Two of you, the two who show me they are most eager to serve, will live as you never dreamed. Two of you, those who please me the least, will be given to my men to enjoy. The rest will be put to work.”

Again, during a long pause, Jeff looked the girls over. “How you live the rest of your lives will be decided in the next week. Choose your path, and show me how badly you want it.”

With that, he went back to his cabin, intending to remain their for the rest of the very long flight.
He was not sure how much later it was when a knock on the door woke Jeff from a nap. With a yawn, he answered, “What is it?”.

The answer came back in Russian. “One of the girls, boss. She wants to speak with you.”

Quirking an eyebrow in surprise, Jeff stood. There was not much room in the cabin, just a bed with some drawers beneath it and space in front of a mirror to dress, and a door at the back that opened into a very cramped bathroom. “Fine, let her in”, he answered.

The door opened and then closed behind the black beauty whose name Jeff could not recall. He looked at her in silence, letting her anxiety grow, his eyes looking her up and down. “Yes?”, he finally said.

The girl was nervous, a bit frightened, and it took a moment for her to stammer in broken English. “Massa, I want serve you.”

Maintaining a neutral expression, interested to see how this played out, Jeff responded. “You know how you are going to serve me, don’t you, nigger?”

The girl nodded. “Kneel then. We’ll see if you have what it takes.”

Dropping to her knees, the girl visibly steeled herself for whatever was to come. She had no qualms about submitting. She had seen firsthand what happened when her mother said ‘no’ to the men she served. She had seen what The Butcher did with those who resisted. And if this was to be her life, she may as well try for the best outcome that was possible.

Jeff stood over her, a cat about to enjoy a mouse. He unzipped his pants, “We’ll see if you know how to worship white cock properly.” Once he had his dick out, he grabbed her head with his right hand and began beating her face with his rapidly stiffening dick. “I’ll bet you know what to do, don’t you?”

She nodded and opened her mouth.

No overseer on a Southern plantation ever used a slave girl harder than Jeff used Regine. The moment her mouth was opened, he pushed his cock inside. Not slowly. He forced it in as far as possible with one savage thrust. She immediately gagged and instinctively pulled back, but her master’s hand was knotted in her nappy scalp.

“Giving up already, nigger?”, he sneered, yanking her head towards him as he pushed his hips forward. He began to rape the girl’s mouth brutally, spitting in her face with contempt. “I thought you wanted to serve me?”

The teenager did her best to compose herself, to allow her mouth to be used however her owner pleased. She was starting to see stars, unable to breathe from the abuse, when he pulled out and began slapping his cock on her face and lips wetly. “That’s better. You black sluts know how to suck a white man’s dick. Your lips were made for it.”

He took his fill of her mouth, abusing her verbally throughout. It was not that Jeff had any particular animus against black people. To him, there were two sorts of people, the takers and the taken. As a predator, he would enjoy his prey as much as he could. S&M, bondage, humiliation, racial degradation, all were simply extra seasoning on the meat.

Pulling out again, Jeff growled at her, “What do you say when a white man lets you suck his cock, nigger?”
Her reply took only a moment. “Thank you, Massa!”.

When he’d had enough of her mouth, yanked up on her hair, pulling her up and then pushing her onto the bed. He took a moment to kick his clothes off, then pulled her hips into a good position for him as he stood next to the bed. “I’m going to fuck you like the black bitch you are.” Without further preamble, he speared her dusky cunt with his raging white prick.

“Your coon cunt is so wet, you're loving this, aren't you, slut?"

Panting with the pain of her virginity being torn away, trying to accommodate his cock inside her tight cunt, she managed to squeak out, "Yes, Massa!", she gasped, "Fuck me!"

"I’ll bet you’re hoping I’ll squirt a white baby into you, aren’t you, nigger?”

“Please, Massa!”

If she really did hope for that, she was out of luck. Jeff had gotten a vasectomy years before.

Jeff’s use of her pussy was even harder than he had used her mouth. The girl grunted like an animal as she was fucked like one. As her body began to respond, her grunts turned to moans. He smacked her ass in time with his thrusts, eliciting a yelp of surprise. "Best get used to it, slut. I'm going to whip you properly when I get you home."

Jeff wanted badly to use her ass, to see if she would keep begging for more while he sodomized her, but decided to wait until he got her home. When he had had enough, he dragged her off the bed by her hair until she fell to the floor on her knees. A few more pumps between her thick lips, then he painted her face white.

“Look at yourself in the mirror, slut”, he commanded, twisting her head to face the mirror. “That’s what you want?”

She could barely make out her reflection through the cum in burning her eyes. “Yes, Massa. More.”

Jeff let her sit there, staring at herself as he dressed. Finally, he told her to go back to her seat. “Don’t you touch a that”, he said, pointing at her face. “Get back to your seat and masturbate. If you cum loud enough for me to hear, I’ll let you keep serving me.”

Regine walked up the aisle towards her seat. She held her cum-streaked head high. She had been first, and her Massa was happy. The other girls stared at her in a mixture of disgust and horror. Sitting down, she stared right back at them with all the contempt she could looking as she did.

Without shame, she used her cuffed hands to bring herself off. Massa wanted it loud, so she took her time. When she came, one of the pilots opened the door to see what was happening, she screamed so loudly.

By then, the cum had oozed down to her tits, leaving a residue of dried white flakes on her face. Her eyes had cleared enough to see. She looked at the girl across from her and smiled. “Massa choose me to serve him first.”

With that, she closed her eyes and somehow managed to doze off.

None of the other girls tried to repeat her performance.