“I’m sorry, honey.” She went back down the hall. Darnell and Paul waited in silence. She returned quickly. They listened to the tap of her heels. She was wearing the open toed stilettos she’d worn earlier.
Darnell nodded, “That’s better. You always gotta be tryin to please your Masters. Be thinkin what they would like, not what you would like.”
He motioned for her to stand next to him. Paul tried, unsuccessfully, not to look at them. The boy’s hand slipped through the part in her robe and moved up the back of her leg and along the curve of her ass. Her head was bowed, her eyes closed. Darnell winked across at Paul then slid his fingers along the crease of her cunt. She drew in her breath. “You like that, baby, you like Darnell’s fingers playing with your pussy?”
She opened her eyes and nodded, “Yes, honey, I like it.”
He took his hand from inside her robe and put his arm around her waist pulling her closer. He looked up at her, “I got some instructions for my teacher,” he grinned. “On Monday morning you tell the principal you want Darnell back in your class. Make up some excuse, like you feel you can change his evil ways.” He laughed. “I want you to wear the button up sweater Rona says she bought and the short skirt and fuck me heels and nothing underneath, no fuckin stockings either.”
She put her hand over his, “Please Darnell, not at school, not in the classroom.”
He frowned, “Ain’t there somethin in the contract that says you don’t get to object? Ain’t you supposed to do what the fuck you’re told and no complainin?” He pointed to the red light in one of the video cameras.
She nodded, “Yes, I’ll dress the way you want me to,” she said
“And in class you move that bitch what sits in the front seat and put me there. And you make sure by what you say and do that them dumb shits know you’re hot for Darnell.”
“I...I.....don’t know how I can.”
“You better think of some ways.” He stood and, taking her by the hand, walked to the front door. Paul noticed that in her heels she was slightly taller than the black boy. Darnell opened the door and, keeping her beside him, stepped out into the entryway. Hoping some neighbors might be looking, he drew her to him and reached through the robe to place both hands on her ass cheeks, he pulled her into him. She felt his hard cock through the thin material and immediately felt her nipples stiffen. He licked his lips, “Kiss, baby,” he said. She parted her lips and gently pressed them against his. His tongue darted into her mouth. They held the kiss a long time. Paul stood just inside the doorway, his cock hard again. When the kiss ended, Darnell asked, “What do you say, baby?”
“Thank you, honey,” she whispered.
“You gonna do what Darnell tells you to do?”
“Yes. I will.”
She waited until he had backed his rusty old Corolla out of the driveway before coming back inside. Paul, after watching her kiss the black boy, retreated to the kitchen. She picked up the blanket he’d left on the couch and discovered a large wet spot on one of the cushions. She called to him. When he appeared she pointed to the spot, “What’s this?”
His face reddened, “Well...I...I...” he began to stammer.
She clenched her fists, her eyes flashing angrily, “While I was in the bedroom paying off your gambling debt by...by....being with that mindless, disgusting boy you were out here....out here...masturbating!” She brushed by him, “You’re worse than they are!” she shouted and slammed the bedroom door and locked it.
Journal Entry
I’ve just experienced the most terrible day of my life and expect to experience more, probably worse. Ann and I met with Watts. Apparently I’m no longer in charge of my own company. John Albertson is. It was John, my accountant, who persuaded me to have Ann sign the notes. He said she had to because I have the company listed in both our names. The poker club was John’s idea. John was always the big winner and I was the big loser. It was John who told Watts that I was deeply in debt and that Ann’s name was on the notes. Now, for the next ninety days John is running the company and I’m required to wear a chauffeur’s uniform and drive Ann wherever she has to go as well as bring NWS members to our house!
Watts made us prove we knew what the contracts required of us. I was surprised when Ann wore her raincoat to the meeting, but I shouldn’t have been.
Watts made her take it off. She was naked under it. She had to kneel in front of him and take what he called “the position”...hands behind her neck, breasts thrust forward. Poor Ann was humiliated beyond belief. I’m ashamed to admit that seeing her kneeling naked before the big black man gave me a stiff prick. What’s wrong with me?
Watts has a secretary named Rona. She’s a black girl no older than eighteen. She’s a snotty little bitch. Before we left the office I had to get on my knees and kiss her black toes. That also gave me a painful hard-on.
Ann had to have all of her pubic hair removed permanently and also had to get two black spade tattoos, one on her breast and one on her ankle. She also has to wear an ankle bracelet that lets black men know she loves big black cock. How outrageous is that! She and Rona bought a closet full of sexy clothes and shoes.
Ann was told she would be receiving a visitor this evening. She had to use lipstick and eye shadow, and rub her body with oil and wear a half nightie and what the blacks call “fuck me” shoes....very high heel. I couldn’t believe how stunning she looked.
Her visitor turned out to be the boy she’d had suspended from her class! His name is Darnell Tyman. I almost fell over when I opened the door and there he stood, this short skinny seventeen year old black street thug! Ann was almost hysterical when she saw who it was. She ran to the bedroom, closed the door and started sobbing uncontrollably. I reminded her of the threat to her grandparents and the possibility of both of us going to prison. After a little while she went out to meet the boy. She had to kiss him...French kiss him. She was practically naked. He fondled her breasts and ass. He made me get him a beer, and made Ann undress him. He said they could fuck in the living room or bedroom. Ann chose the bedroom. My cock was throbbing as I watched this naked black kid take Ann’s hand and walk with her down the hall. She opened the bedroom door and went in with him. I heard her lock the door.
I couldn’t hear anything except for once when I heard her yell. I imagined her bent over the makeup table, her hands spreading her ass cheeks, the black bastard squeezing KY into her tiny hole and then shoving the butt plug in. Watts says she’s to be fucked in the ass so it has to be stretched. My God, I’ve hardly ever seen her naked. She would never French kiss me. I don’t think I’ve ever given her an orgasm. I imagined the boy’s long black cock sliding into her little pink pussy. I jerked myself off. About two and a half hours later the kid yelled for me to bring his clothes to the bedroom. He was sitting on the bed. His long cock hung down between his legs. It was wet with Ann’s secretions and his own cum.
Ann had her back to me and the sheet wrapped around her, but he made her turn over. He played with her breasts. He asked her if she came. She said that she did.....twice. I couldn’t believe it. I still don’t.
I had to make him coffee. When Ann came out of the bedroom he made her stand next to where he was sitting. She wore a robe with nothing underneath. He ran his hand under it to feel her ass and her pussy. She has to call him “honey” and pretend she likes whatever he does to her. He’s going to be back in her classroom on Monday. He told her what to wear. No underclothes and the ‘fuck-me’ shoes. She has to find a way to let the other kids in class know that she’s hot for the little bastard!
He made her go outside to kiss him goodbye. When she came in she discovered the wet spot where I had jerked off on the couch. She became furious and went to the bedroom, slamming the door and locking it. I’m so damn sorry I got us into this horrible situation. But, to be honest, I’ve never seen Ann look so desirable. The lipstick, the mascara, the short skirts and shear blouses, the stilettos, the musky perfume, even the little tattoos and ankle bracelet. Sh
e’s a different person. I must confess there’s this other thing too: the idea of her being available to blacks!
Chapter Six
At nine o’clock the following morning, a Sunday, Ann heard the buzzing of the special phone Watts had given her. She was dimly aware that the bed smelled of the musk scented body oil and something else that had to be sex, hers and Darnell’s. She sat up and reached for the cell phone.
It was Watts. “I trust you slept well, Mrs. Gardner?”
“Yes, yes I did.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Yes, Master. I slept very well.”
“Did my nephew make you cum?”
She was sure Darnell had given him a full report. Then she remembered the video cameras. By now Watts had seen the two hours she and Darnell had spent in her bed. “Yes, Master, I’m sure you know he did.”
“Twice?”
“Yes, twice. He made me...made me orgasm twice, Master.”
“In watching the tape I got the impression that you haven’t orgasmed very much.”
“That’s right.”
“Not even masturbating?”
“It’s a sin.”
“Oh, yes you’re a devout Catholic.” He paused. “Did you enjoy how they felt, the orgasms?”
“It was...uh....different.”
“I didn’t ask you if it was different. You must learn to answer the questions that are put to you.”
“Yes, Master, I enjoyed it.”
“Good. There will be more, I assure you. Before long you will be enjoying orgasms several times a day, perhaps several times in an hour. Soon you will need orgasms, you will crave them.” He paused. She didn’t respond. He continued, “Now, about today. I assume as a good Catholic girl you are planning on attending mass this morning?”
“I always go, but....”
He cut her off, “I insist you attend. Wear one of the revealing dresses and the high heeled pumps, lipstick and gloss, body oil.....you understand? No undergarments.”
“Oh I couldn’t go into Saint Catherine’s like that.”
His tone changed, “But you can and will,” he said firmly. “Are there any black men in your congregation?”
“I don’t think so. There are several Hispanic families but no African Americans....I mean no black men.”
“That’s too bad. I want you to get used to appearing in public dressed the way we want you to dress. I want you to get used to seeing black men notice your bracelet and markings. I want you to get used to being aware that they know you are available to them. Do you have a gold necklace with a cross?”
“Yes.”
“Wear it. It’s a warm morning so don’t wear anything over your dress or under it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.” Saying the word ‘Master’ troubled her, but although it wasn’t exactly exciting, it did touch a nerve.
“Is the plug in?”
“I took it out this morning. It’s been in all night.”
“Who put it in?”
“Darnell.”
“Was it painful?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Did you thank Darnell for putting the plug in your asshole?”
“Yes, Master, I did.
“Why is there a butt plug in your ass?”
She could feel herself blushing, “Because you ordered me to so that...so that eventually I’ll be able to….to...accommodate men there....black men.”
“Accommodate isn’t exactly the word I’d use. Be sure to reinsert it. Tomorrow you should try the thicker one. Are you anxious to have your ass fucked?”
“No, Master. I was hoping it wouldn’t happen. I’m terrified of....of doing that.”
“Well, it will be quite painful at first. I expect you’re very tight. The plugs will help to widen you, but it will still be painful. Most black cocks are long or thick or both. But in time you might even learn to enjoy being fucked in the ass. What do you think?”
“Yes, Master, I might learn.”
“Now tell your husband to drive you to church and to wait in the car for you. Take down this address.”
She searched for a pencil and scrap of paper. “Yes,” she said.
“128 Forty-Eighth Street, apartment sixteen, tenth floor. There’s a garage under the building where he can park. He’s to accompany you to the apartment. It belongs to Rona. She will instruct you after you arrive. You and Paul are to do exactly what she orders you to do. No objections, no complaints. I’ll be getting a full report as well as a tape. Do you have the address?”
“Yes, Master, I have it.”
“Tell your husband he’s to wear his uniform. You are to sit in the back of the car. He is to open and close the door for you every time you enter or leave it. The slave owners continually devised ways to humiliate the black males, ways to diminish them in their own eyes and in the eyes of others. We want your husband to get some small sense of what that must have been like. I expect after yesterday, you have already begun to see him differently. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I understand that you plan to have Darnell readmitted to your class tomorrow.”
“I’ll try.”
“Do more than try. Have him admitted. Let it be known that you have developed a fondness for him. He has been told to avoid requiring anything of you that might cause you to be dismissed, but after classes are over and away from the school he can require of you whatever he wishes. You will do your best to please him, Mrs. Gardner.”
She felt the anger rising but got control, “Yes, Master, I will try to please Darnell.”
“I must say I’m not entirely satisfied with the tapes of last evening. The fault is mostly Darnell’s. He tended to see you as an equal. I’ve reminded him that you are not his girlfriend, not his lover, not his equal. You are his servant, his subject, his slave. He’s to treat you as such or he will be denied your services. I can assure you Darnell does not want to be denied the services of his history teacher.” He paused. Ann said nothing. Watts continued, “The tapes also proved that you have lost none of your superior attitude. You object, you do not show proper respect, you obviously don’t show gratitude, don’t feel honored that a black man, even one as young as Darnell, has chosen you. That has to change, Mrs. Gardner, that has to change. Do you understand?”
She knew he was serious, “Yes, Master, I do. I understand.”
“For your sake I hope you do.” He hung up.
She felt like crying or throwing something or phoning Watts and telling him that she was not a servant, not a slave to Darnell or anyone else; telling him that she was tearing up the hateful contract. She looked around her spacious beautifully furnished bedroom, the huge master bath with a Jacuzzi, his and hers sinks, a big glass enclosed shower with multiple shower heads, a bidet, big mirrors, fluffy towels. Would she trade this for five or more years in a prison cell? Then there was the matter of harm possibly coming to her grandparents. Finally, although she tried to deny it, there were the orgasms. They felt like nothing she’d ever experienced or even imagined before. The feeling of Darnell’s penis inside her, penetrating, thrusting. She had turned her head away every time he entered her. Now, she found herself wishing she hadn’t. It would have been both horrible and exciting to watch his long black penis slide into her. These thoughts were making her wet.
She quickly changed the sheets on the bed and, after showering, selected a cotton print dress from among those she and Rona bought yesterday. She rubbed her body with the scented oil and pulled the dress over her head. It was skin tight. The fact that she was wearing neither a bra nor panties was obvious. The dress had a scooped neckline but, she was relieved to see, was high enough to conceal the black tattoo. She made up her face, finding that she enjoyed doing it and rather liked the new look. Her jet black hair fell just below her shoulders. She brushed it vigorously. Remembering that Watts had instructed her to wear a cross, she selected a small gold one with a thin gold chain and, feeling guilty, fastened
it around her neck. Finally, she slipped her feet into a pair of new white pumps. All the shoes they bought yesterday had four inch heels and two pair seemed to have heels at least a half inch higher. Walking in them seemed easier than it had yesterday. What had Darnell said, “The brothers want their bitches walking around in fuck-me shoes.”
Paul was sitting at the kitchen table staring into space. When she entered, he looked up and his jaw dropped. “My God, you are .....you are...” he began.
She glared at him, “I have to go to church looking like a whore,” she said. “Watts was on the phone. You’re to drive me to church and afterwards to this address.” She placed the slip of paper on the table. “He said you’re to wear the uniform and to open and close the door for me. I’m to sit in the back of the car.” She went into the living room to wait for him. When he appeared she almost laughed. He looked ridiculous in the uniform and the visored cap made it worse.
They arrived at Saint Catherine’s late. She was able to slip into the last pew unnoticed. The sermon was based on Galatians. The priest looked out at the congregation. He quoted without even glancing at the open Bible before him, “for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth unto his own flesh shall of the flesh, reap corruption.” He went on to say that in all realms of life what we sow we also reap. We are responsible for our actions and must accept the consequences of those actions. He referenced both the Old and New Testaments in citing example after example of sinners who suffered greatly as a consequence of their sinning.
Ann thought he was speaking directly to her. She felt ashamed and afraid. Before the service was over she hurried out. Paul opened the car door for her. She slid into the seat and began to weep quietly. After a few moments Paul turned to her, “Should we go?”
“Yes, yes, go.....I’m already damned,” she said.
The apartment building on 48th Street was relatively new. Paul pulled into the underground garage and they took the elevator to the tenth floor. Rona’s apartment was a spacious end unit with a view of the East River. It seemed obscene for an eighteen year old girl with no more than a high school education to live in such an elegant place. But Rona was wiser than her years. She had selected Ann’s wardrobe.
Contrasts Page 8
