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  Together they murmured, “Yes, Master.”

  “One thing more. In public you refer to the black man, every black man, as sir. You refer to black women as Miss. Use Master and Mistress when not in public places.”

  Rona directed them to a couch next to one of the tall windows. She stood before them unsmiling. “The bitch is to report to me at 9:00 tomorrow morning. She’s going to have her body hair removed permanently. After that she’ll be tattooed, a black spade on her breast and another on her left ankle. Her right ankle will be fitted with a gold bracelet with black letters attached that will let all black men and women know she belongs to them. We will also buy a complete wardrobe of sexy clothes and shoes plus an expensive makeup kit and some other stuff. It will take most of the day.” She turned and went back to her desk where the phone was ringing.

  Ann and Paul were about to get on the elevator when Rona, holding up the phone, called them back. “Your Master wants to speak with you,” she handed the phone to Paul.

  “What kind of shoes is Rona wearing?” Watts asked.

  Paul glanced down at the girl’s feet, “Very high heels.”

  “Her toes?”

  “Bare.”

  “Ask her permission to kneel at her feet and kiss her toes.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself. Do it. Leave the phone open. I want to hear you. Remember to address her properly.”

  Paul looked quickly around the reception area. There was no one except the three of them. He glanced at Ann feeling his cheeks redden. Turning back to Rona and speaking loud enough for his words to carry to the phone he asked, “Mistress Rona, may I please kiss your....kiss your feet?”

  She was young enough to be his daughter. She laughed and nodded. He got to his knees and leaned over to touch his lips to her long black toes. She looked down at him, “Get used to it, cause maybe Mr. Watts gonna make you my bitch.” She handed him a box that was sitting on her desk. “He’s also gonna make you his driver. He says for you to stay away from the trucking company. John will take care of things there. You’re to be on call for when he wants you to drive your wife somewhere.” She pointed to the box. “Your uniform is in there. Be sure to wear it when you’re drivin her.”

  Paul looked hard at her, frowning, “But I’m not a goddamn chauffeur. I own a company.”

  The girl laughed, “Not no more you don’t, least not for the next ninety days. You better change your fuckin attitude or your wife gonna get what slave women got. You know what that was?” He said nothing. “They got stripped and whipped.” She looked up at them grinning. “I’m real good with a whip. Now, you put on your uniform tomorrow morning and come with your wife. You gonna be our driver for the day.”

  Chapter Four

  Journal Entry

  It’s late, long past midnight. Neither Ann nor I are able to sleep. She’s lying in our bed wide awake staring at the ceiling. We tried to comfort each other, but failed. I guess each of us is caught up in our own thoughts. We should have been prepared for what was said and what happened at the meeting with Watts this evening. It was all there in the damn contracts. I guess we refused to acknowledge it and went there hoping the things we agreed to in the contracts might be negotiable. Seeing that huge fat black bastard slide his hand up Ann’s leg and squeeze her bare ass was almost more than I could take. And making her suck the finger he had pushed up inside her was worse. In spite of the revulsion and anger, my cock had become harder than I ever remember it being. It became hard again when I was made to kiss that black girl’s feet. What did she say about me being her bitch? What’s wrong with me? Just writing these words has made my dick hard again.

  The black girl, Rona, told me I had to stay away from the office. Instead I’m to be Ann’s driver. She even gave me a fucking uniform and cap I’m to wear. I’m supposed to go with Ann in the morning and drive them around to wherever this Rona person wants to go. We’re to meet with Watts again tomorrow evening. He wants us to have the damn contracts memorized.

  Ann did manage to sleep for a few hours. She was surprised to see that Paul was up and wearing the uniform Rona had given him. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He looked so...so...diminished. She showered, had some toast and coffee, and put on the hateful clothes she wore yesterday. She and Paul hardly spoke. They took their contracts with them. At 9:00 o’clock on a Saturday morning they stood before Rona’s desk. Rona looked up, “Well?” she said.

  Ann answered, “You asked us to be here this morning.”

  “I didn’t ask you. I fuckin told you.” Unsmiling she stared up at Ann, “Ain’t you forgettin somethin? Ain’t you forgettin how you supposed to speak to me?”

  Ann felt the anger rising to redden her cheeks. This girl was no older than the girls in her class, probably younger than most of them. Rona was waiting. “I’m sorry, Mistress Rona. I forgot. You didn’t ask us to be here at nine this morning, you told us to be here.”

  “You always gonna do what I tell you?”

  “Yes, Mistress Rona.”

  Rona glanced at Paul. He wore gray trousers, a white shirt, a gray vest, a black bow tie, and a gray cap with a black visor. “Where’s your car?”

  “It’s in the garage under the building.”

  “What kind is it?”

  “An almost new Lexus 350.”

  “That will do. Meet us at the front entrance.” He turned to leave, “Oh, Paulie,” she called out, “one more thing. When Mr. Watts or me or any of our friends or guests or even your wife gets in or out of the car you’re to open and close the doors for us. Got that?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re a fuckin slow learner. Yes what?”

  “Yes Mistress Rona.”

  He was told to take them into the city, first to a facility on Madison called “E. and L. Hair” where he waited in the car for two hours while Ann had all of her body hair removed. He studied the contract while he waited. When they came out Ann looked distraught. He opened the back door for them. “Your wife’s cunt is bald and smooth as the day she was born,” Rona said. “Hair won’t ever grow back.” She next directed him to a building on East 57th. “Now, Mrs. Gardner, we gonna get you tattooed,” she said. Ann tried, unsuccessfully, to hold back the tears. “Don’t worry,” Rona said, “these ain’t gonna be deep tattoos. If you want, you can have them burned off after your ninety days.”

  They were gone for another two hours. When they were settled in the back seat, Rona laughed, “She got a nice black spade on her right tit, the upper part of it so most times it will show. She got another one on her left ankle. That gonna show all the time. Black guys know what that means.” She tapped Ann’s knee, “Tell Paulie what it means,” she said.

  “It means that I’m...that I’m available to blacks,” she said.

  “And what do ‘available’ mean?” Rona asked.

  Ann looked out of the window for a moment feeling sick to her stomach. “It means I’ll do whatever they tell me to do.”

  “Yeah, you be mindful of that.”

  Ann nodded, “I wish I’d been permitted to wear my raincoat over these...these clothes.”

  Rena surveyed her, “You look hot. All the men gonna be checkin you out.”

  The remainder of the afternoon was spent on Fifth Avenue. Paul saw that Rona had been right. Ann’s short skirt, the stilettos, and the shear blouse caused heads to turn. The two women went in and out of a number of exclusive shops that seemed to feature upscale rather exotic clothes, shoes, cosmetics, and lingerie. When they arrived at Watts’ building, Rona went back to her office.

  At home, they unloaded the car. Paul noticed the black spade on the upper swell of her breast and the other tattoo on her ankle. She piled the boxes in their bedroom and flung herself down on the bed. They hadn’t spoken on the way home. Paul tried to start a conversation but she said, “Not now, Paul. I’m exhausted. It’s three hours before we have to meet with Watts. Let me sleep for two of them.” She set the a
larm clock and closed the door. Paul slept on the couch.

  Shortly before the alarm was to go off, the phone woke her. It was Rona. “Mr. Watts gonna let you wear your raincoat to the meeting.”

  “Oh, thank you Rona...I mean thank you, Mistress Rona.”

  “Only thing is, he don’t want you wearin nothin under it.....understand? Not a fuckin thing. You can put on the string of them pearls we bought and them new heels, the ones that is just straps. He wants to see your toes. Don’t forget the ankle bracelet. It goes on the right ankle. That’s where black men know to look. Be sure to rub your body with the sexy smellin oil or have Paulie rub it. Use the new makeup, lipstick and gloss. You know what I’m sayin?”

  Ann wanted to throw the phone across the room. “Yes, I understand,” she said. Rona hung up.

  After showering, she did as Rona had instructed. It was strange looking at her completely bare pubis and the tattoos. The two black spades contrasted sharply with her white skin. She thought about what they meant. She imagined what black men would think when they noticed the markings. She felt tears begin, but held them back and began to carefully apply the cosmetics. Her full lips glistened. She brushed her hair, and then took the ankle bracelet out of its small velvet lined box. It was gold. The attached pendant letters and heart were black. There was an “I” and a heart and then the letters “B”, “B”, “C”. Rona had explained that they stood for “I Love Big Black Cock”. It, too, was a message that black men would immediately understand. The tattoos and the bracelet told all black men and, no doubt, many white men what she was. Black women, too, would know. If the spade tattoo on her breast was covered there was the other one on her ankle and the bracelet on her other ankle. She couldn’t cover them with socks or stockings. Her legs had to be bare, even though the weather was soon to turn cold. She rubbed her body with the musk scented oil and attached the string of pearls. The new heels were nothing more than crisscrossing straps across the bare toes and one that buckled at her ankle. They were more difficult to walk in than the pumps.

  She took several minutes to study the contract once more then took her raincoat out of the closet and pulled it tightly around her and buckled the belt. She suspected Watts would make her remove it. Paul, looking downcast, stood waiting in the hall. “Are you allowed to wear that?” he asked.

  “Yes, Rona phoned and said I should.” She didn’t tell him that she was naked under it.

  Paul was dressed in his uniform. He glanced at her ankle bracelet, “What do the letters...”

  She cut him off, “They stand for ‘I love big black...cock.” She glared at him.

  “Jesus, Ann, I’m so sorry.....truly so sorry. If only I had....”

  “It’s too late now,” she said.

  At seven o’clock they stood before Watts’ desk. He gestured for them to sit. Rona had entered with them and crossed the room to stand at the bar next to the Chinese woman, Ms. Ying.

  Looking at Ann, Watts asked, “You have a bald pussy?”

  “Yes...Master.”

  “Electrolyses or lazar?”

  “Electrolyses.”

  “Good. It’s permanent. What else besides your pussy?”

  Ann glanced at Rona who nodded, “My legs and...and my backside.”

  Watts laughed along with Rona and Ms. Ying. “Backside!” he exclaimed. “Are we in Sunday school or what? Forget backside. What else, Ms. Gardner?”

  Ann felt herself blushing, “My ass,” she said.

  “The tattoos and the ankle bracelet?” he asked.

  “Yes, both,” she said. He waited. It took a moment for her to understand, “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “Both, Master. The tattoos and the bracelet.”

  He leaned back and closed his eyes. “You learned the contract?”

  “I hope so, Master. I tried, but there wasn’t much time.”

  “How about you, Paulie?”

  “I think so.”

  “What is rule one?”

  “I’m to always defer to black men whether they’re in my home or out of it.”

  “Number four.”

  Paul thought for a minute, “I will not object if any black member of the NWS touches my wife in public. If she goes off with him, I will not object.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “I will drive them, the black man and my wife, to wherever he wants to go. I’ll wait in the car or pick her up in the morning. If he wishes me to watch what he does....what they do together, I will and will not object in any way.”

  “What about number six?’

  “There’s a lot in number six. I’m to buy her the clothes the black man tells me to buy. I’m to feel honored if a black lover chooses to stay at our house. I’m to give her money if she wishes to buy her black lover a gift and I’m to pay for their hotel or motel room. I’m to help make her as desirable as possible for her black lovers.”

  “Number eight.”

  “I’m to do whatever her black lover tells me to do. If a number of black men are to...to use her I’m to accept that and even to deliver her to them if they wish. I’m not to have any sex at all with my wife during the ninety day period of the contract.”

  Watts nodded and, opening his eyes, leaned forward. “Good. Knowing what’s in the contract and following it are two different things. Failure to observe the requirements will result in punishment that may be administered to you, to your wife, and even to her old and frail grandparents. Do both of you understand that?”

  Together they answered, “Yes.”

  Paul hesitated then leaned forward, “I was wondering if...if...the black men who...who...use Ann can also....” he couldn’t finish.

  Watts laughed, “You mean can they shove their big black dicks up your ass and in your mouth?” Paul nodded. Watts continued, “I doubt very much if they’d want to, but the answer is no. They will order you about, make you serve them, make you bring your wife to them, sometimes make you watch, but they won’t fuck you or order you to suck their cocks. Why would they when they have your beautiful young wife to service them?” Paul sat back, relieved. “Red or white? he asked. They looked puzzled. “Wine,” he said, “do you prefer red or white?”

  “Red,” Paul said. Ann nodded.

  He signaled Rona, “Three Marchese Anbinon Chianti.” The Chinese woman poured three goblets of the wine which Rona served. Both Paul and Ann thanked her. Watts sipped his, and then placed the glass on his desk. “You both should know that while you were off on a shopping spree yesterday I had a crew go into your house and install video cameras in every room except the bathrooms. My men must have done a good job because it’s obvious you haven’t noticed them.”

  Paul started to rise but sat back down, “That isn’t in the contracts,” he said, his face red with anger.

  “No, it isn’t.” Watts leaned forward. “Both contracts make it clear that for the next ninety days your wife belongs to the NWS. She’s ours. We’ve invested a good deal of money in her. The videos are there to protect our investment. They are also there to provide me and some senior members with amusement.” He pressed a button on his desk. Behind and slightly above him a wall panel slid open to reveal ten video screens, one for each room in the house and one for the basement. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a keyboard. By clicking on various keys he could view each room from different angles. By moving a curser across a pad he could focus in on a particular place in each room and could enlarge the view.

  Ann stared wide eyed at the screen, “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  “Of course the cameras are equipped with tapes so that even when I’m not here they will be recording.” He sat back and observed them, “You should know the cameras are activated by movement. They go on as soon as there’s movement in the room and shut down when there’s no movement.”

  “That means we have absolutely no privacy in our own house,” Paul said.

  “Not quite true. There are no cameras in either bathroom. I warn you not to tamper with them. You will be abl
e to tell when they are on because a small red light glows.” He paused again.

  “And there will be a record,” Ann said.

  “Yes. Rest assured it will be kept private and at the end of the ninety days, unless you decide otherwise, all the tapes will be given to you. The tapes serve another purpose,” he continued, “there are thousands of members of the NWS. They are registered from all over the states as well as Europe and Asia. The only thing they have in common is that they’re black men, Negros. Every member will have access to Ann’s special cell phone number as well as her special land phone number and her special email address. Only members on NWS have these numbers. Having the numbers gives them access to Ann’s services. All they need to do is call and say when and where. Before calling or emailing they will check to see if she’s available.” He paused to look directly at Ann. “You will be available at all times. We urge our members to allow you at least an hour to prepare to receive them, but they are not required to do this. I must tell you that membership in the NWS is rather easy to obtain. Therefore some, if not many, of our members are racists. They hate whites usually for very understandable reasons. Some are ex-convicts, some are homeless, and some are old,

  some are fat and rich, and some are mean and can be violent. Since we have an investment in you, it’s in our self interest to protect that investment. If the video tape indicates serious bodily harm is about to be done to you, we will send immediate help. If you are somewhere else; another house, a hotel or motel room and feel certain that you might be seriously hurt, and I mean seriously: disfigured, cut, broken bones. things like that, there’s a special button on your cell phone that sends an alarm to our security guys. The phone also has a GPS so they will know where you are.”

  “So she’ll be perfectly safe?” Paul asked.

  “I didn’t say that. The female black slaves were never perfectly safe. They were constantly being physically abused, but because they represented an investment to the slaveholder, he didn’t want her to be physically unable to perform. So, your wife can expect to be abused, even whipped as the female slaves were whipped, but not hospitalized.”