Proud

All of the workers had given out the last of their tokens. It was over.

The trainer who had started off the “game” stood at the front of the room. “Congratulations.” She said it without warmth or excitement, just matter of fact. “You have completed this assignment. And I think the workers are happy.” She looked over to the group of men now filing out of the cafeteria.

The men made a small murmur of ascent as they continued to leave the room.

“Ok. Now for some observations.” She paused. “Will all the slaves who got 6 tokens or more step to the front of the room.”

There was a collective gasp. Six tokens. For the majority of the slaves it was inconceivable. They had worked hard for their two or three or four. The idea of six! It seemed impossible.

Nikki moved to the front of the room clutching her six tokens in her right hand. It felt like a stack of gold coins, thrilling and valuable. They were slippery with sweat from her hand.

There were five of them at the front of the room. Two girls and three boys. They were each holding the tokens in their hands, trying to look as gracious as possible in their victory. It was impressive what they had done, and they knew it.

“Do any of you have more than six?” The trainer was looking them over, evaluating them.

One of the boys stepped forward and opened his hand. Nikki couldn’t see well enough to count, but it was a LOT of tokens.

“I have eight Ma’am.” He spoke clearly and distinctly, not shouting it, but as close to shouting he could get without looking like a little kid who just won a pissing contest.

“Eight.” She made a little face. A “humm” face. Clearly impressed. She reached out and took the tokens from his hand, held them in her fist. Then she reached out her other hand and took a handful of his hair, effectively immobilizing him. And then she brought her fist, full of tokens the hard tokens, down on his ear, in a swiping/slapping motion. It was a surprise, and hard.

The slave-boy cried out, his face crumpling with shock and pain.

“You were so proud. Well, this was NOT a competition to get the most tokens!” She was practically screaming in his face, her mouth inches from his, her eyes locked on his, her hand still immobilizing his head. “What made you think we wanted to see how many you could get? Did anybody say that?”

Nikki realized her mistake. She felt the blush start at her chest and flame up her face. Her ears were hot with blood. She had totally misjudged this. Had made a huge error. She played back the instructions in her head – all the woman had said was that each worker had three tokens and that it would take a long time. Yes, she had said “go” as if she was starting a race, but she had NEVER said that the goal was to get as many as possible. She had only told them to suck cock.

Ohh! She was so embarrassed. She was shaking with shame standing at the front of the room, the heavy tokens in her hand. They had made her proud just moments before. She remembered the feeling as she had stepped forward, the eyes of the other slaves on her, knowing that she had done well, proud of how many she had been able to get. Now she was just ashamed of herself. All of her competitive juices had come out. She had wanted to beat the other slaves, and was happy when she thought she had.

“All of you up here,” the trainer addressed herself to the group of slaves at the front of the room, all of them now looking dismayed, “you let your pride take over, you were showing off your skill, trying to win.” Nikki felt the urge to cry, the tears welling up in her eyes. This woman had totally pegged her. “Well. You didn’t.”

Without loosening her grip on the slave-boy’s hair, the trainer looked over at one of the others. “Bring me the signs.”

The signs? Nikki had seen them. Slaves wearing signs around their necks. Almost like a sandwich board advertising a restaurant or a sale, not that big, but big enough to be clumsy and uncomfortable.

The trainer took the signs from her colleague. She started with the slave she had struck. She placed the chain around his neck, the sign hanging down. One word: PROUD. Big letters, bold, shocking. And she addressed him.

“Are you a proud slave?”

“Yes Ma’am.” His voice cracked as he answered.

“Is a proud slave a true slave?”

“No Ma’am.” He sounded truly ashamed, but he was doing a good job speaking up, not hiding his pain. Nikki wondered if she would be able to do as well when it was her turn, and she knew her turn was coming.

“Do you regret your competitiveness?”

“Yes Ma’am.” His voice rang out now.

“Are you ready to accept punishment, to remind you of your true position, to humble you?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good. Now go kneel on that table…” she pointed to the first row of tables facing the little cluster of slaves… “put your head down flat on the surface, and reach your hands back to show the whole group your asshole.”

He moved off towards the table.

“the first part of your punishment will be to show the group what an asshole you are, by showing them your asshole.” She laughed.

“Are you an asshole, boy?”

“Yes Ma’am.” His voice was muffled by his position, but Nikki could hear it. Ohhh! She dreaded this. But at the same time she recognized how right it was. She was an asshole for wanting to show how much better she was at sucking cock than these other slaves.

“Now the rest of you, speak in unison…” The trainer moved down the line, placing signs around each of their necks.

The sign was heavy! The chain bit into Nikki’s neck. She tried to stand up straighter, suck in her core, use her stomach muscles to support it, but it was going to be exhausting, she could feel it already.

“Are you proud slaves?” Nikki felt the word “proud” enter her like a knife, humiliating her, ripping into her.

“Yes Ma’am.” Her voice joined the others. There was something cleansing in admitting it, acknowledging this weakness, being able to atone for it. She just hoped the atonement wouldn’t be too bad.

“Is a proud slave a true slave?”

“No Ma’am.” They all answered immediately.

“Do you regret your competitiveness?”

“Yes Ma’am.” They were speaking as one, a responsive reading, almost religious sounding.

“Are you ready to accept punishment, to remind you of your true position, to humble you?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Nikki was for sure. She craved the punishment, the redemption of it. She knew that this was her biggest fault, the aspect she needed to work on the most. But it was humiliating to have it called out for her during this final evaluation, this set of exercises leading up to the critical event, the auction itself.

“Good. Now go kneel next to the other boy. Put your heads all the way down and reach your hands back to show the whole group your assholes.”

Nikki did as she was told, moving over to the table. She felt the air on her anus, but she felt the eyes of the other slaves even more intensely. She knew what she had done was wrong. She knew that she was an asshole. Part of her was still proud at her skill, but all of her was aware, with a deep kind of awareness, that her submission, her challenge, was to put that pride away and focus on the moment. Focus on the task she had been given, the task for its’ own sake, not for the recognition that would come from doing it well.

She heard the trainer addressing the group.

“This is another example of how you can think too much, try too hard, do more than what you are here to do.” Her words penetrated Nikki’s consciousness. “Now, who here has only one token…”

Nikki heard the sounds of footsteps. Only one set of footsteps. There was only one slave who had gotten only one token. But Nikki thought about that. She had performed six blow jobs. It must have taken her 30 minutes, at least. This slave had one token. So he or she had spent 30 minutes on a single blow job. A marathon!

“Good girl.”

Nikki reddened again, hearing the praise addressed at this girl. This girl who had just done what she could. Had lived in the moment. Had taken one of the workers in her mouth and had stuck with it for as long as she needed to. For an incredibly long time. She had not resorted to tricks – hadn’t stuck her finger up his ass, or used her hand on his cock. She had probably just sucked him and sucked him and sucked him. Had done what she was supposed to do. Had submitted to the task, with no thought to herself.

“This is submission. Following instructions. Not thinking past the instruction, but just doing as told and then focusing on the individual to be served. This is a model for all of you. Something to strive for.”

Nikki heard the hum of muttered “Yes Ma’am”s from the crowd.

“This slave will be eating dinner with me tonight. Real food. From my hand.”

There was a collective “ohhhh” from the crowd obviously impressed.

“The proud slaves will be back here tonight. They will do slop duty, the workers will scrape their plates onto them as garbage. And they will also serve as the urinal for the workers. We will give them plenty of opportunity to reflect on their need for humility.” She laughed again.

“Now it’s time for a little rest.”