Book About Slave Novels & Stories

"Talk to me, Eliyah. It will help you ease your pain. And maybe I'll understand you better too." He released a breath. "You want to listen to my story? A slave's? Won't that be a huge waste of time?" "Let me be the judge of that." I smiled. "I'm actually from the Slave Island." What the hell? Slave Island? He must have seen the confusion is on my face. "It's one of the islands of Ovzdusia. There, the slaves are bred. They stay with their birth-givers till they are five and then they are taken away from their 'homes'."

Even my master has been a perpetrator of cruelty towards my kind, recounting tales of the worst experiences endured. In the past, he would subject the blood slaves to a cruel fate, depriving them of sustenance, draining their life force, and ultimately ending their existence. I couldn't help but ponder what caused him to transform upon my arrival. His insatiable thirst for blood had garnered infamy in the streets, and tales of his monstrous nature circulated widely. They deemed it a disease, an affliction that corrupted his very essence.

"The audacity of this author!" Roland exclaimed, his voice laced with a mixture of awe and apprehension. He found himself pausing every few sentences, his gaze lingering on the words as if they held some hidden power. The book was a veritable bombshell, daring to criticize the very foundations of their society. It painted the royal family in a scathing light, accusing them of insatiable greed and a complete lack of self-discipline. However it was the author's stance on slavery that truly captivated Roland. With unwavering conviction, the book condemned the practice, asserting the fundamental equality of all humans and denouncing the notion of one person being inherently superior to another.

I winced, knowing that she would be punished if her master ever found out a piece of her clothing had gone missing. Eventually, they all grew confident that the guard wouldn’t return. They spoke more freely—of the slave shops and the cellars, and their masters. I didn’t plan to join in. I simply listened at first, but with every passing second, I could tell that the slaves were growing more and more curious about me. And of course, they were. I had arrived with Lucas Lane. They glanced over at me through conversation, as if inviting me to join in. There wasn’t much to discuss when it came to conversations with other slaves. They were indoctrinated into the belief that the purpose of their en

Poppy assured, seeing the sad look on Imogen's face. "I know" She nodded while Poppy smiled. "That shameless wretch, she managed to seduce the master and his cousin. Then manipulate them into freeing her as a slave, I hate her. She is more worst than Isabella" "At least that means the position of the lord's favourite slave is opened, if we managed to seduce him then we also get to be free," Another slave said, as they murmured among them not minding if Imogen was listening. Poppy hissed at them and patted Imogen's left shoulder

“Wait,” Cassie cried out when the pace became too much. “You need to listen to me.” Earl Adam halted and marched back to where she was doubled over and panting. “Slaves do not initiate conversations with their masters. They serve a purpose, something you will start to understand very shortly.” “What about your men?” “Eager to share your services, are you, little bitch?” It was so hard to meet his eyes now. That knowing gaze was tearing her apart. “Don’t call them, please. I beg you.”

Cindy asked. "Haven't you? A cock in your cunt, one in your ass, another in your mouth, all making you cum and cum and cum?" I asked. "I don't think I've ever thought about it before." "You should. There's nothing like it to a slave slut like me." "Wait a minute! You've been triple penetrated?" Cindy asked, shocked. "During the first three weeks of my slavery, Master allowed me to fuck other men. Due to the books he knew I was reading, he thought I might like to experience some of my fantasies."

I said waving the book at his face. "Can I see? he inquired smiling. I nodded and stretched the book to him. "Slave to the Ruthless Master" he read aloud raising his brows. "This is an 18+ rated story" he said and eyed me. "What? I'm almost 18. It's just two months remaining" I defended. And it's not as if I haven't seen worse. What could be worse than what I caught Jayden doing today in the washroom? It's a human story that talked about a girl whom was sold by her father to a ruthless master who killed people without a second thought.

I'm afraid that the more I say the word *master* the more I get used to it. "Yes, this is another gift for your slave." He stretched a gift wrapped in bright pink wrapping paper. I walked over to where he was, and took the gift from him. I grimaced staring at the box, merely looking at the colour of the wrapping paper, I could tell this gift isn't something I would appreciate. "Well... Open it." He becokned on me with his hand. I sighed then unwrapped the gift, a book was actually in it. I read the title of the book, *50 ways, a slave could serve her master* what in the world is this.

"Mr. Drake? I inquired. It's master for you, slave. I am still the controller of your life and you dare warn me to let you go. You sure have a lot of liver" "Slave? She sneers. It's been a long time since I heard of the name "slave. "I am not your slave. My name is Anne. "The slave that I brought with my money has developed a lot of liver that she dares to cross me. She even told me she was not my slave. Your name is Anne, right? But I don't care if you are Anne or not. A slave doesn't have a name. They don't deserve a name. My slave dares to revolt against me. I think she has forgotten how cruel I was. That's why she felt the need to protest against me.