Careless Drain Slave

The Careless Drain Slave

By Lowest of the Low

I simply couldn’t wait for the Gynarchy authorities to put me back into my old drain in the middle of the town square! After spending the past 6 months slaving away in the dreaded Gynarchy salt mines under the ever watchful eyes of the strict and merciless female overseer guards with their fearsome bullwhips, my old drain really did seem just like an oasis paradise!

My sorry story all started late one night 6 months ago when a group of young, attractive and far more superior Gynarchy university girls were on their way home after a fun night of partying out on the town. The girls’ path just happened to take them directly over the top of my drain, as their rowdiness woke me from my fitful slumber just in time to see the soles of their shoes step nonchalantly over the top of me. Judging by their behavior they had definitely had a bit too much to drink (which was clearly evident even from my lowly position underneath their feet) which of course they were all free to do because, unlike a good for nothing prisoner slave like myself, they were well within their rights to drink and have a good time.

I then continued watching the group as they passed over me, paying special attention to the delicious looking street dirt which had accumulated onto the bottoms of their shoe soles which was made visible by the bright street light directly over the top of my drain. I wished more than anything I could at least savour the taste of it with my undeserving slave tongue, however it was impossible for me to reach from my trapped position in the drain which was, of course, was just another part of my punishment of being able to look but not touch.

The young mistresses had then almost finished stumbling over the top of me until one of them, who appeared to be the most intoxicated of the group and who just happened to be wearing heels, managed to get one of the points stuck in the grate, causing her to lose her balance and fall over onto the pavement directly beside my drain. Unfortunately, all I could do was look up in horror, hoping that the young mistress was alright and hadn’t hurt herself in the fall, which after a few nervous moments, thankfully appeared to be the case, as she got back up onto her feet unharmed.

Her friends even thought it was quite funny as they stood around her drunkenly laughing, however the young mistress who had just fallen didn’t happen to see the funny side of it and straightaway began screaming for the authorities, who happened to be on duty patrolling the town square. Within a matter of moments they had turned up and listened while the girl hysterically began telling them what had just happened, while also pointing directly down at my drain. I then heard the authorities say the dreaded words:

“Don’t worry miss! The courts will make sure that worthless slave down there is severely punished for allowing you to fall over like that. They have ways of dealing with irresponsible lowlife slaves just like the one down there!”

The following morning I was pulled out of my drain and hauled before the courts accused of negligence for allowing a free citizen to trip over my drain, even though in reality there was absolutely nothing I could have done to stop it from happening and the young mistress in question was clearly drunk at the time. But, of course, none of that mattered in the eyes of the Gynarchy court. As far as they were concerned, being the good for nothing slave that I was, meant that I was automatically guilty and the incident was without doubt 100 percent my fault! That only left one more thing for the courts to do, and that was to sentence me to my fate. However this only took them a few moments, as they wasted no time in deciding that the best way for me to be punished was to send me straight to the Gynarchy salt mines for 6 months of very hard labour which was to begin immediately.

So that’s how I found myself toiling away for 20 hours a day, 7 days a week, without a break in the hot and humid underground salt mines, where the slightest pause for only the briefest of rests was always met with the same response - a very sharp and extremely painful whipping across my always bare and exposed back.

In fact, the only moment of respite from my backbreaking toil that I ever actually got was usually straight after an overseer mistress had finished administering a very severe and agonisingly painful whipping to my back and shoulders, as she would then order me to kiss her leather work boots as a way of thanking her for pointing out my laziness.

This was also one of the very few times I was allowed to speak a few of my menial slave sentences, as I was then permitted to beg the mistress for forgiveness as I grovelled down at her feet, frantically kissing the tips of her shiny leather boots in the desperate hope of avoiding anymore of her savage blows. However, being the stupid and unintelligent slave that I am, I’m ashamed to admit that my slave speak is very poor, meaning I always ended up with a few extra stinging blows from the mistresses whip! I also noticed, enviously, how some of the more experienced and quick-witted slaves working in the mines had managed to perfect the art, and were always able to say just the right things at just the right time. I was constantly jealous of those smooth talking slaves who seemed to have the ‘gift of the gab’ because, on average, they always managed to avoid getting whipped less than the more thick-witted and dopey slaves such as myself!

I even witnessed a few of these ‘smooth operators’ manage to sweet talk and flatter some of the stern overseer guard mistresses so much that they actually permitted these brown-nose slaves to lick clean the soles of their work boots, which happened to have some left over salt residue from the mine still stuck to the bottoms! A real treat, considering the starvation rations we were all on. I remember enviously glancing over while I worked to sometimes see a mistresses towering over one of these pathetic grovelers who would be on his hands and knees desperately licking the bottoms of the guard’s boots clean while also flattering her, in between licks, with some of his slave speak. I would always try my best to make out a few of the slave words or phrases that my fellow suck-up prisoner slave was using, so I could try and use them myself in the future and maybe earn the privilege of licking the bottoms of the guard mistresses’ boots as well. However, being the thick and incompetent slave that I am, I would always screw things up and earn myself even more of a whipping instead!

Unfortunately, during my whole 6 month sentence at the mine I was never once ordered to perform such a wondrous task. All I could do was enviously watch as these other lucky slaves licked and cleaned the tasty bottoms of the taskmistresses’ dirty, salty boots, instead of me. Plus, as I mentioned before, to make our suffering even worse we were all kept on starvation rations as another part of our punishment, with only a small, tasteless bowl of slave gruel given to us right at the end of our 20 hour shift to keep us sustained, meaning we were kept permanently starving all of the time. However, as hungry as we all were, we were still expected to work relentlessly for the entire length of our shift, with the ever present female whip there to remind any of us the second we happened to forget it!

The cruel overseer mistresses would also bring delicious smelling meals to work which they would then eat in front of us during their breaks. Their dining tables were deliberately located close to where we were working, not only to make our suffering even worse by having the aroma of the delicious smelling food we were never allowed to eat so close, but also because they could sit down and relax at the tables and still be able to keep a close eye on us, making sure we never slacked off while they enjoyed their food at the same time.

Sometimes during these breaks, if it was a particularly hot day and the overseer mistresses’ socks were beginning to get a bit hot and sweaty, they would take off their smelly socks and place them over the top of a slave’s head, making sure that the wet and especially stinky part hung directly over his face and nose. The chosen slave would then only have till the end of the mistresses’ break to completely dry off and re freshen the sweaty socks using only his breath. He was in no way ever permitted to touch the sock with his hands while it was stuck to his face, and if he was careless enough to ever let it fall off onto the ground then that would result in the most severe whipping for the negligent slave!

A severe whipping would also be administered to the slave if the socks weren’t dry by the time the mistress was ready to put them back on her feet again. Plus, to make it even harder, the slave was still forced to do his usual backbreaking work with the socks still on his face meaning he had to concentrate on his work as well as trying to dry the socks without them falling off before the mistress had finished her break.

To make it even more uncomfortable, most of the guards seemed to like wearing grey woollen socks, meaning they would usually irritate and tickle the slave’s nose as well, meaning he had to use all of his willpower to try not to sneeze, which would most certainly result in a harsh whipping for soiling her socks also! I happened to find out first hand one day just how hard this task actually was, after being selected for sock drying duty. The overseer mistress placed her particularly wet and smelly socks right over my nose with the woollen strands almost immediately finding their way to the insides of my nostrils, causing severe irritation and making me want to sneeze almost instantly. It had taken all of the willpower I had to successfully stop myself from sneezing. However, in the end, I still ended up receiving a very painful whipping anyway, since the socks weren’t dry enough for the mistress’s liking by the time she had finished enjoying her break.

So that was just a brief explanation of some of the suffering I’ve had to go through for the past 6 months. Now you can see why I’m so keen to get back inside my drain again and away from the backbreaking work and endless whippings I had to endure during my punishment. Now I’ve just got to hope that no other mistresses trip over my drain, because I don’t think I could handle another agonizing trip to the mines again!