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The Awakening

Book One of the Chronicles of the Nubian Underworld

About The Book

An erotically charged journey inside Atlanta's African American Fetish/BDSM community, revolving around an African American dominant couple, Ramesses and Neferterri, and their submissives.

Life seems well within the “Nubian Underworld” of the ATL, as Ramesses, his wife, Neferterri, and their submissives are at the center of what can only be described as “paradise” by those who have seen the debauchery within. Amenhotep, Ramesses’ mentor, is on the verge of bringing in his newest slave to reside with him at the Palace, and the entire community has been invited to witness the decadence of the grounds and the libidinous nature of the guests in attendance.

Unfortunately, life is not always a bed of roses—sometimes the thorns must be felt.

The Awakening is a journey inside Atlanta’s African American Fetish community, and the ties that bind the principal players of this exciting new series. With its twists and turns and surprises along the way, it is sure to become an awakening for any who dare to journey to the dark side.


The Awakening 1 RAMESSES
“Baby, we’re going to be late for the party.” I heard my wife, Neferterri, calling from upstairs. “You know how Amenhotep is about beginning His ceremonies before we get there.”

I was in the basement of our house, loading up the bags we would need for our night at Master Amenhotep’s estate. Tonight was special indeed as Amenhotep was inviting the community to witness the collaring ceremony of His newest slave, safi. She was the latest of the slaves who reside with Him in Palmetto on the south side of Atlanta.

“I’m almost done, babe. Have either of the girls gotten here yet?” I asked out loud.

“shamise is here with Me now, helping Me with My corset. jamii and nuru should be here any minute,” Neferterri replied.

It was almost ten o’ clock, and usually our submissive girls are on time. Since it was a busy weekend in Atlanta and they were coming from different directions to the house, I decided not to punish them unless they made us extremely late. Amenhotep’s estate wasn’t far from where we resided in Fairburn, but I had to make sure we were set up in our designated area in the dungeon before the ceremony began at midnight. He could care less if anyone else was late, but I already knew Amenhotep would have a fit if He had to start without me.

I finished up the last of the bags when I heard all three girls coming down the stairs, assuming their kneeling positions at my feet. “we’re here, my Sir. May we take the bags to the car?” nuru asked as her eyes lowered.

“Yes, you may, girls. shamise, let your Goddess know we will be leaving soon.” I kissed my girls on their foreheads as they each took a bag and headed back upstairs.

I took notice of each of the girls’ attire, and I had to say, I couldn’t have been a prouder Dominant as I took in their collective beauty.

shamise wore a strapless black corset, a gift from Neferterri and me last Christmas, and accentuated it with a wrap skirt draped slightly above her knees. I smiled at the way the skirt could be easily opened and available for access to do whatever I wanted. Knowing I had a fetish for heels, she didn’t disappoint, but she took things a step further, wearing knee length, four-inch heeled boots. We named her shamise, which means “first born” in Arabic and Egyptian, because she’s our “Alpha” submissive.

Her diamond collar was proudly adorned around her neck, displaying diamond handcuff earrings that dangled from her earlobes. To complete her look, she wore her hair up to expose her neck and show off her collar.

jamii wanted to be a bit more demure in her appearance than her sis, but surprised us in her choice to wear a miniskirt and a black leather halter top instead of hiding her legs with pants. She’s not as much of an exhibitionist as our other two girls, usually choosing to wear a pant suit. She also decided on boots, wearing an ankle-length, four-inch stiletto style. We named her jamii, which means “sexy or sexually enticing” in Swahili, and she tried to live up to the meaning of her name tonight.

The slick smile on my face conveyed my appreciation of her new found confidence in her body and sexuality. The sharpness of her look was completed by her Chinese bob haircut, which showed off her own collar, presented to her in a private ceremony a little less than a year ago.

Finally, the “baby girl” of the House, nuru, wore a pleated school girl skirt, a halter top, too, and four-inch “Mary Jane” heels with bobby socks, putting her hair up in pigtails and sucking on a lollypop. Because of her bubbly and happy personality, we gave her the name nuru, which means “brightness, or light” in Swahili.

Now, I feel I have to explain to those that might not be in the “know,” so, indulge me for a quick moment. Alpha submissives within a Poly Household are usually the first to have been collared by their Dominant. They are responsible, in some cases, to train the submissives that are collared after them, making sure that their submissive sisters know the rules of the House as well. Beta submissives…well, they are as the moniker suggests, the second submissive to be collared within the House.

Considering my Beloved and I currently have three girls right now, we usually treat them equally, as to not play favorites, but within a House of this size, there are those times when we will defer to shamise over the other girls because she’s been with us the longest.

Forgive me for the quick lesson, but I didn’t want to confuse anyone. Let’s get back to the story, shall we?

For a minute, I forgot we needed to attend a collaring ceremony.

I watched my Beloved walk down the stairs. The look in her eyes was evidence she wanted me to get a good look at her outfit for the evening.

“So, do You like, My Pharaoh?” Neferterri asked while doing a model’s twirl in her strapless corset, complete with a ruffled petticoat skirt, which showed off my wife’s “ASSets” quite well.

I shook my head. I counted myself lucky to have such beautiful women in my life, including my daughters. Our oldest was thirteen, our middle child was eleven, and our youngest was eight. To be surrounded by such beauty, as the pharaohs of the Ancient Kingdom had done so long ago, was a sight to behold.

“Your Pharaoh likes this outfit very much, baby,” I said, no longer resisting the urge to rub my hands over her hips and kiss my beautiful wife. “You look good enough to eat…damn.”

Neferterri playfully slapped at my hands, putting up a small fight, finally giving in to the kisses being placed on her neck and shoulders. I started to lift the skirt to get a better grasp of her ass and try to take things to the next level for a quickie, but shamise unintentionally interrupted us while coming to retrieve the last of the toy bags.

“Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt You.” shamise blushed over seeing her Dominants in an intimate moment. It wasn’t the first time she’d caught us in a compromising position, and under normal circumstances, she would have quietly watched until we were finished. However, she knew if she did this time around, we’d all be in some serious trouble. “Daddy, You said we were going to be late if we didn’t get going now. We don’t want to keep Master Amenhotep waiting.”

She was right. The last thing I needed was to be reprimanded by my mentor. He was a stickler for starting grand events on time. So, we grudgingly headed upstairs to finish packing the cars to head down to our destination.

Amenhotep’s estate, The Palace, was an extravagant fifteen-bedroom home He’d purchased from a former CEO of a Fortune 500 company. The house had it all, complete with a front driveway that stretched out a half mile from the main road, 300 acres of land for ultimate privacy, especially with the things that went on outside of the house, a spacious basement which housed a twenty-seat projection room among the other amenities in the dungeon, and a 300,000-gallon pool to boot. For a man who had nine slave girls, and was about to collar a tenth, that’s still a lot of house to deal with. But Amenhotep didn’t worry about such things. He had ten male service slaves who were sent out by their owners to tend to the estate on a weekly basis, and three of his slave girls were designated service slaves as well.

It was a lot larger than the four-bedroom, three-car garage home with basement Neferterri and I owned, but hey, we all had to start somewhere, right?

As we drove up to the front door, I noticed the way the lighting was set up for the special occasion: the “House” colors of Crimson and Black were on proud display, and could be seen from the specialized lighting surrounding the house before we even had a chance to turn into the driveway. The service “bois” were outside, as usual, parking the cars in the designated area as the guests arrived, with certain spots being held for special attendees, to mark their status within the community. These were usually the out-of-state guests who have national and international status within the BDSM community, as there would be some who were able to fly in for tonight’s occasion. You would have thought a few dignitaries were in attendance tonight as well, as we saw the fleet of different limousines that were also parked in their area as well.

Neferterri and I had the same thought: this latest one must be something special for all of this to occur. But then again, knowing Amenhotep, it’s always difficult to tell, as He was, Himself, nationally known and respected.

We were greeted at the front door by paka, Amenhotep’s Alpha slave. She wore a black cigarette girl’s outfit and four-inch heels. We all knew the rest of the girls would be specially outfitted tonight, and saw one of the other girls dressed in a see-through cat suit as proof. A new slave would be accepted among them, and it would be done in grand fashion, as each one of them had been acquired before her.

“Good evening, m’Lord, m’Lady. My Master has been expecting You.” paka bowed her head as she spoke, in show of respect. “May this girl relieve You of Your submissives so they may prepare Your area and Your room?”

Neferterri answered, “Yes, you may, paka. They know what they need to do.”

paka nodded as she led jamii and nuru to the dungeon area in the basement, while the other of the slave girls, jazi, led shamise up to the bedroom to unload the baggage.

“paka looks radiant tonight, don’t You think?” Neferterri asked me as paka disappeared with our girls.

“You know she made sure she outshined the other girls, baby,” I remarked, noticing the extra sway in paka’s hips as she walked away from us. “You should know that everyone in the house knows where she stands, regardless of whose night it is.”

“Well, I guess we need to find out who is in attendance, and where they all are,” Neferterri commented, leading the way, grinning as she noticed the way I always enjoyed the view while following her.

We walked through the main foyer, passing by the other guest bedrooms on the main floor, noticing the new changes to the walls, including the paintings hung since our last visit a month ago. We dropped by the dining area to pick up some hors d’oeuvres, noticing the other slave girls going about their business during a function such as this one, catering to the VIP guests, making sure wineglasses were kept full. I took notice of the risqué outfits the girls wore, and a mischievous grin spread across my lips. Having witnessed each of their collaring ceremonies, I knew what each of them was capable of doing behind closed doors.

Well, not exactly closed doors.

My Beloved slapped my forearm, shaking me out of my lustful thoughts. I grabbed my arm in mock protest, glaring at her as I felt the sting rushing through my arm. She didn’t flinch an inch. “You better be glad I love You, or I would have smacked that grin off Your face.”

I smirked, slipping into her personal space to brush my lips against hers. She tried to move away from me, but I held her in place, holding her gaze for a few seconds before kissing her deeply. I moved my hands to the small of her back as we lost ourselves in the embrace. Once I heard the contented moan escape her lips, I broke from the kiss, watching the look in her eyes and gaining a measure of satisfaction of my own.

“No matter what happens, no one comes between us, Beloved.” I caressed her cheek as I pulled her hand to my lips to kiss it. “United in battle, until death do we part, remember?”

“I remember, Beloved.” She kissed me again. “Now, let’s head outside and see what’s going on.”

Once we made it out to the backyard and pool area, even we were a little wide-eyed at some of the activity:

Different sub bois, completely naked, serving their Dominas with Cheshire cat grins on their faces.

Topless submissive girls, wearing G-strings and thong bottoms… some with their collars on, their leashes in their mouths, in their kneeling position waiting for their Dom to collect them.

Some pony play being demonstrated in the pool itself, with some of the pony boys in full rigors, carrying their owners with pride.

Spankings in open spaces…

Floggers flying through the air, hitting their intended targets…

Needless to say, it’s a good thing Amenhotep did have all this privacy. If a neighbor saw half of what was taking place in the pool, much less around the pool, He would have heard from the local police a long time ago.

A funny image of two officers coming to the door to follow up on a disturbance call came to my mind. That would have been an interesting quandary: would the officers do their duty and ask the crowd to disperse, or would they simply look at all the freakiness around them and tell the owner to “keep the noise down?”

I knew what I would have done, but I wasn’t a cop.

After scanning around and viewing the activity around us, we finally noticed Amenhotep with safi at the edge of the pool in the gazebo. She looked quite content with her pink bikini top and sarong bottom caressing her olive skin like the fabric was made only for her. Amenhotep wouldn’t have it any other way when it came to His girls. When He gave them His undivided attention, He made sure they felt it.

Once He made eye contact with us, He waved us over. We headed over to join them in the gazebo, greeting other guests briefly along the way.

“So, You finally decided to come on down,” Amenhotep stated while stroking safi’s hair. “I was about to collar this one without You, Ramesses.”

Looking down at the lovely piece of beauty being happily stroked by her Master, I responded, “Now, I was there for paka and all the other girls. There was no way I would miss breaking in Your newest girl.”

Neferterri happened to notice a slight smile spread across safi’s face as we were speaking, and she asked, “Does that excite you, slave?”

safi looked up at her Master first to silently ask permission to answer, which was protocol within His House, and once Amenhotep nodded, she quietly replied, “Yes, m’Lady. All the other girls told me once I performed my scene with m’Lord, it would seal this girl’s place in the house.”

safi then crawled to the area where I stood, kneeled at the base of my feet, and humbly stated, “This girl hopes to be everything my Master has built me up to be, m’Lord.”

safi trembled as I moved closer, her body language giving away a lot more than what her words conveyed to me. I inhaled the perfume radiating from her skin, surrounding and captivating my senses. Once again, my reputation preceded me, and I didn’t need this one to have an anxiety attack before I touched her. Amenhotep had been speaking to His girls about tonight, I guessed, and the other slave girls do enjoy it when He allows them to scene with me, as ours enjoy their time with Him as well.

To reassure her, I kissed her forehead and whispered into her ear, “Amenhotep would never have placed you in front of Me if He didn’t think you would make Him proud, little one.”

safi relaxed a little, crawling back to her place at Amenhotep’s feet to continue enjoying her rare private attention she got from Him.

“So, who else has decided to come out for this occasion? I see some guests from the Northeast have come down this time,” Neferterri inquired, obviously noticing all of the new attendees around the pool. “I haven’t seen this many newbies in one spot since we collared jamii last year.”

Amenhotep stroked His beard, which was what He always did when He was in deep thought. “Let’s see…I know Lord Magnus and His slave girl jewel are here from Philly, and I think Master Orion is also here from Miami, and Mistress Sinsual and Her boi tiger are here as well. Oh, Mistress Blaze is here somewhere with Her girls,” He explained. “There are a few new Doms here from the West Coast as well. Master Altar, You remember Him from Dragon*Con®? Well, He will be performing the ritual tonight, and His slave girl is with Him also, chastity.”

My eyebrow rose, mainly because something was amiss. It’s not like Amenhotep to break protocol and tradition unless something really went wrong. “Yeah, I do remember Altar, ran into him at one of the dungeons out on the west side about a month ago. Cool dude. What happened to Master Cypher?”

“Damn, You mean no one told You?” Amenhotep shook His head. “Ol’ Cypher got caught up in a sting at His house. Turns out, He had been breeding some girls, and one of them turned out to be sixteen. So sad, but He was stupid for doing it.”

I was taken aback by the news, but I really didn’t feel sorry for him. There was usually an honor code amongst the male Dominants in the community, especially Dominants of color, whether local or national, and frankly speaking, there are some things I simply believe are not honorable for a Dominant to do: abusing His property and using them for profit are at the top of my list. Breeding ranks up there with prostituting women, submissive or not. We had enough problems with people who wanted to understand what we enjoy and completely missing the point, not to mention the fakes out there confusing power exchange with being a control freak. But, oh well. That’s the difference between the Leather veterans of the community, and these new wave nuts who think they can research on the Internet and instantly become a Dom or Master.

Yeah, I said it, and I dare anyone to tell me otherwise.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” Amenhotep added. “Some of Your swinger couples are also coming by. It seems they might actually want to stop playing around doing all the simple fucking and come to the dark side where they might want to explore some real things.”

Now, that meant a few things. The couples he mentioned were Jay and Jasmine, who were new to the swing scene, but had been a part of our circle of friends for a long time.

As for Ice and Kitana…well, let’s simply say these two were a case study in “what took so damn long?” They have been around us for the past three years, but they never really made the jump to participating in a dungeon atmosphere before now after being so curious about it for so long.

Finally, there was Candy and her new man of the month, although I had a feeling this dude wouldn’t survive the night, either. They never did. Candy and Neferterri are best friends, and my “concubine,” but I’ll have to explain another time.

“Anyway, we’ll break them in when they get here.” I passed it off as second thought. “Where is Mistress Sinsual anyway, or do I already know the answer?”

Before I could answer, I felt arms moving around my waist and the greeting, “Hi, Daddy,” coming from behind me.

Now, since our submissive girls were all tending to their tasks before the ceremony, and Neferterri was standing right beside me, it could only mean one woman was standing behind me.

“Have you forgotten who you’re talking to, Candy?” I sternly asked. Bringing out my Dominant side when I was not already in that mindset was not something I tolerated, unless they were ready to deal with the consequences of their actions.

Candy wasn’t having it. “Now You know that shit doesn’t fly with me. I belong to Your wife, remember?” She even had the nerve to stand there, hands on her hips, daring me to do something about it.

I was not about to have her trip out and get away with it, so, I promptly sat in a chair, pulled Candy over my knee, slid her skirt up over her ass exposing her mocha skin, and before I commenced spanking, I asked her again, “Have you forgotten your place, Candy, or do I need to remind you?” I didn’t even care her date stood a few feet away from me. There were some things that had to be handled.

Candy heard the bass and extra volume in my voice and relented. “I belong to You, too, Daddy. I’m sorry; it won’t happen again.”

I still gave her a few good smacks on her bare ass cheeks to make sure that she understood that Daddy didn’t play.

The crowd in the immediate vicinity stopped and turned in our direction, reacting like they’d heard a loud clap of thunder and wanted to see if a storm was coming. Leave it to me to draw crowds as usual, even with other spankings going on. Amenhotep raised His hand, alerting the spectators that there was nothing to see. He knew I wasn’t going to kill her or anything, but what could I say? I drew crowds, and I could clear them as well, depending on the intensity of the thunderstorm.

“Forgive My brat, folks, she sometimes feels the need to act out when she misses Me.” I calmed the crowd down, especially Jay and Jasmine, who had just arrived and saw the whole exchange. As long as they had known Candy, they’d never seen anyone handle her like that.

Amenhotep, shaking His head, answered my question, “Knowing Sin, She’s already in the dungeon torturing some poor soul.”

Neferterri, while trying to comfort Candy, laughed. Sinsual, being true to form, usually found more than a few willing newbies, mostly male submissives who want a taste of her flogging skills and knife play expertise.

“What poor soul?” Kitana asked, joining in on the conversation. She was still soaking wet from playing in the pool, and to be honest, the wet hair look combined with the bikini she wore made her look as sexy as she usually was completely dry. “Oh my Lord, Sinsual isn’t at it again, is She?”

Even with what I did to Candy only a few minutes ago, I was being greedy, and a little bit mischievous, so I couldn’t resist my reply. “I’ve told you about calling My name, Kitana. Do I need to put you over My knee so you can keep calling it?”

I didn’t know if it was the liquor talking, or if she was once and for all tired of being teased, but Kitana’s reply shocked everyone in the gazebo. “Please, Sir, I’ve been a bad girl. I didn’t mean to call for You without Your permission. I need to be punished.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, unsure if she’d said the right thing or made the right move. She got so shy it looked like she’d turned sixteen and was a virgin all over again, waiting on someone to deflower her and make her a woman. She wanted to make eye contact with me, but found herself unable to do so, letting her eyes focus on her trembling hands.

Needless to say, all eyes were on her.

Rather than respond to her comment in front of the folks in attendance, I shot Neferterri a quick look, grabbed Kitana by the hand and quickly led her to the first guest bedroom I could find that wasn’t already occupied.

I needed answers.

About The Author

Credit: John Crooms Photography

Shakir Rashaan is the author of the bestselling Nubian Underworld series, as well as the Kink, P.I. series (Obsession, Deception, and Reckoning) and several anthology credits, including Zane Presents Z-Rated: Chocolate Flava 3. He currently resides in suburban Atlanta with his wife and two children. You can see more of Rashaan at

Product Details

  • Publisher: Strebor Books (December 3, 2013)
  • Length: 272 pages
  • ISBN13: 9781593095444

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