...of all Possible Worlds - Chapter Seventeen

My Master was going out for the evening without me, which he did occasionally. He had his friends and social gatherings where a slave wouldn't be welcome or appropriate, and I understood that. I didn't resent it at all, but now I did have the small and not totally unreasonable fear that Mr. Reiser would be spending some of that time looking for a wife.

I'll admit I didn't completely appreciate the way having a proper family would elevate him socially and professionally, but I was just a dumb negra anyway. I understood his desire to have a child though, and it was difficult to argue with that, even with myself as I lay alone on the bed. I'd gone to the slave quarters above the garage, just because I wanted to be alone. Lilah was helping Mercy in the kitchen while Tom Henry worked outside, weeding between the bricks in the walkways around the house. Mr. Reiser had a gardening service, but those weeds grew faster than anything else it seemed.

I'd felt bad about Delilah and her being sterilized, only grudgingly accepting the fact that it wasn't up to her if she ever had a baby or not. It had been her Master's decision and he'd made it, and that was the world we lived in. It wasn't her body, no more than I owned mine, not while I was a slave anyway. I belonged to a white man and if he wanted to do something like that to me, have me sterilized or castrated or whatever, Mr. Reiser could do it and I'd accept it. There wasn't any choice in it, but it still made me feel bad for the girl, mostly because her Master hadn't told her. He should have done that much anyway and if he had it wouldn't have bothered me nearly so much, I thought.

That took a good hour out of the day, coming to that conclusion, and by then I'd grown restless. It was still early, just a little past four maybe, and Mr. Reiser had already left. I'd heard him drive out of the garage beneath me and I'd frowned at that, reminded that there were a whole lot of things I had no choice in. I wandered back downstairs finally, not wanting to do anything and wishing I could do something. Being a bedroom negra without a hard man to be with wasn't much fun at all.

The day was a bright one and still warm, almost hot as summer comes along quick after a short Tennessee spring. This year promised to be a hot one anyway, everybody said so and I believed it. I spied Tom Henry working back by the pool, pulling those weeds because the bricks were old and cracked, with large gaps in places. The house itself was old too, rebuilt just after the First Civil War, and once upon a time it had been part of a real plantation growing cotton mostly. After the war, the land got sold off in parcels to carpet baggers and Northern profiteers. The Federals took some and gave it to the niggers for reparation, handed it out in little plots so they could build their shacks and have their bastard children, and sharecrop for the white men they used to slave for.

Now it was my Master's house, sitting in an exclusive neighborhood and serving as a reminder of the glory days gone by. There wasn't any plantation anymore and I thought that was too bad. I wondered what it would have been like to be a house negra back a hundred and fifty years ago, a bedroom slave for a man who owned a hundred others. There'd be a crowd of blacks bent over in the sun, women and children singing while they picked cotton with burlap sacks hanging from their shoulders. The men would have been working the machinery and bailing raw cotton onto wagons for the short ride to the Mississippi River and the big old steamers running north and south. And I'd be sitting on the porch, close to my Master and whispering cool words in his ear under that warm sun to make him smile and stroke my hair.

That's how I wished it still was, truly, and it made me sad to see just the one boy, Tom Henry, pulling weeds all by himself. Mr. Reiser was right, I decided, we did need more slaves round the house. Maybe not so much for the work, but just for the sake of appearance. A Southern Gentleman should have some niggers around and I started thinking I'd have to mention that once in awhile to my Master. Put a little bird in his ear, because that was part of my job too, being his woman like I was. Of course, it didn't hurt none that Tom Henry was so respectful of me. I have to say that he'd impressed me with his manners and I liked the way he dropped his eyes when he spoke to me now. That boy knew it was my house, Lilah too, and Mercy was just mothering me, I understood that, minding me like an old hen because Mr. Reiser expected her to teach me proper.

"Hey Tom Henry," I said some short while later, after I'd gone upstairs and put on a bathing suit. 

Being such a pleasant afternoon, I decided it was too nice to sit inside. Besides, I'd just gotten a new bikini and longed for an excuse to wear it.

"Afternoon, ma'am." He straightened himself up and looked at me, not in the face, but all up and down my body and that pleased me.

"You ain't gotta ma'am me, Tom Henry," I said, even though I didn't want him to stop. "I ain't nothing but a negra."

"Ma'am," he cleared his throat, and I shook my head.

"You stop pulling those weeds for bit. I have some work for you now," I told him, setting my straw beach bag down and spreading my towel on a lounge chair.

"Alright." He nodded slowly and he was a good looking young man, damp with sweat now and wearing dungaree pants and rough cotton shirt loosely buttoned in the front.

I smiled at his approach, lying down on my stomach with that lounger horizontal. I folded my arms under my cheek and looked at him. I wore a red bikini, the top very small, with tight thin cups to hold my breasts, tied with strings around my neck and back. The bottom of it was full, but only so it would hide my penis and testicles properly. I'd have much preferred a thong, but that wouldn't hardly be practical in public. This bikini hid my boyish charms just fine though and still offered a real nice view of my firm round ass.

"Reach into that bag there and find my lotion," I said lazily. "I want you to put some on me."

"Uh…Yes ma'am." He licked his lips and took off his work gloves, tucking them into his back pocket.

"How do you like it here, Tom Henry?"

"Just fine, ma'am."

"Hmph." I smiled. "I suppose you'd say that anyway, huh?"

"Well, I ain't been whipped yet," he said, finding my baby oil and looking at it. "This here?"

"Yeah, that stuff. Put it on my back for me."

"How do you like it here?" His question surprised me and I sighed as I felt his hand, now cupping some oil, pressing to my skin.

"Me?" I giggled softly. "I like it just fine."

"I heard you was freeborn," the boy said. "That true?"

"Yeah." I nodded slightly. His hands were strong and calloused, but gentle as they moved over my back and shoulders.

"I ain't never met a freeborn negra before."

"Really?" I smiled at that. "Do you like being a slave?"

"Do I like it?" Tom Henry laughed. "What do you mean by that?"

His hands were moving along my spine and I gave a little shimmy of pleasure, the way his fingers would ride up my dark oily skin nice and slow.

"Untie that string there," I sighed, "It's getting in the way."

"Yes ma'am," he said softly. I felt him tugging at my bikini and then it fell loose at the sides of swollen breasts as I lay upon them. 

"I mean, how do you like being a slave, that's all," I answered his question.

"Ain't no like or dislike," he told me, and now his hands were going all the way up and down unhindered. "It just is."

"I like it," I'd long since decided. "Get my shoulders too, Tom Henry."

"You ain't no slave anyway," he told me. "Not if you can ask a question like that."

"Is that right," I said, giving a little groan as his hands worked my shoulders nicely.

"A negra like you? Shoot…I heard of it."

"Heard of what?"

"Heard about freeborn negras and ya'all living in big houses and driving fancy cars and all that."

"Is that so?" I giggled.

"You got a daddy, right?" he asked me, and I nodded. "He got a big house too, I bet."

"Not real big."

"But he got one." Tom Henry moved his hands under my armpits and then lower, brushing the sides of my tits. "Got himself a real wife too, huh? Rings and all that?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "My daddy's got all that."

"And now here you is, sitting by a swimming pool, getting yourself all rubbed up and down by your own personal house nigger." He chuckled. "And you gonna ask me if I like being a slave?"

He lifted his hands and sat back on his heels.

"Don't stop," I moaned. "You aren't done yet."

"I need to get back to my work," the boy said. "Fuckin' the Master's pet negra ain't gonna get me nothing but whipped."

"What?" I felt my blood rising with some humiliation then.

Tom Henry was standing up, wiping his hands on his pants and reaching into his pocket for his gloves.

"You can't talk to me like that!" I lifted my head, staring at him. I felt hot all over with my heart thumping. "I'll whip you myself!"

"You sure don't talk like a slave neither." He smiled at me and I sat up, my tits falling free under my loose bikini, hanging now by the string around my neck. "But you is fine, ma'am. Yes you is, one fine bedroom negra."

"Get back here!" I yelled, but the boy only walked away from me. "Tom Henry, get your ass back here now!"

I felt my throat burn and that just made me all the more mad. Screaming like I was would give me laryngitis for three days if I wasn't careful. I ripped at my top in annoyance, struggling briefly to untie it so I could throw it away from me, and I half ran topless to the house and into the kitchen.

"What's wrong with you?" Mercy looked at me and Lilah shrank a little in her chair. She was cutting up some tomatoes at the table.

"I want that nigger whipped!" I said, staring at the old woman and shaking with anger. "I want him whipped now. Right now!" 

"Whipped? What that boy done?" Mercy had been cutting up some meat and now she washed her hands, looking at me over her shoulder.

"He…Insulted me," I said, fighting to keep my voice down. "He was talking bad about me and refusing to do what I told him to and…"

"Shoot!" She grinned. "I thought he done raped you, girl!"

"What? He insulted me! He was talking back like I'm some kinda…"

"Some kinda negra?" Mercy reminded me. "That's what you is."

"It's not funny!" I hissed. "I want that boy whipped. I'll do it myself."

"You gone have to talk to suh bout that, girl," she said. "Ain't no whippin' round here but he say so."

"You whip me all the time!" I said too loudly, and I swallowed hard.

"That ain't no whippin!" She shook her head. "See? You done even know what you's askin' for, huh!"

"You ain't gonna do it?" I stared at her.

"No. I ain't gonna whip that boy," Mercy said. "And you ain't gonna neither. Goan get yourself outside now, we's workin' negras in here."

"Fuck!" I jerked my head hard and caught Lilah staring at me. "What're you looking at?"

"N-Nothing, ma'am." She looked down quickly and Mercy gave me a shake of her head. I left them, going upstairs so I could lie down and be mad.

That stupid nigger. So what if I wanted to play with him, maybe even fuck him? Our Master wasn't going to be mad about that. If he was, Mr. Reiser would have told me. He'd seen me playing with Tom Henry at the kitchen table earlier and hadn't minded at all. Stupid Tom Henry. He didn't have any reason for talking to me like that. I was trying to be friendly and be nice, to be his friend even, and he starts talking about my daddy? That boy didn't know anything about me. He was just a dumb slaveborn nigger and I was gonna see him whipped for embarrassing me like that.

"Ma'am…Dani?" Delilah's soft voice woke me up and I hadn't even realized I'd fallen asleep. "Mercy says you gotta come down and eat."

"She's says I gotta?" I blinked and stretched and made it sound like I wasn't gonna do any such thing.

"Well…" Lilah looked around nervously. "Would you, please?"

"I'm not hungry." I frowned at her and almost started getting mad because she was in our Master's bedroom. My bedroom and she wasn't supposed to be there. Nobody was, except me and Mr. Reiser.

"I cooked up some sweet potatoes an…and some pork cutlets," Lilah told me. "I thought you'd like that maybe."

"Mercy let you cook?" I asked, and the girl nodded.

"She watched me mostly."

"So you know how?" I didn't know why I didn't think she could. I suppose because I just thought she was a bedroom negra.

"Course I do." She smiled at me. "Please, ma'am?"

"Yeah, okay," I sighed. "Is that Tom Henry down there?"

"Yeah…Yes ma'am." Lilah sucked her lips. "We're waiting on you."

"I'll be down in a minute. After I get dressed," I decided and Lilah smiled at that and left me finally.

Mercy was getting pretty smart, I thought, sending the girl up here to fetch me instead of coming herself. If Mercy told me to come eat, I'd have slammed the bedroom door in her face, maybe. Or at least rolled over and ignored her. She'd take that razor strop to me just because it was a new moon, but she wouldn't whip that Tom Henry when he deserved it? I was still mad about that and if Mercy hadn't been about sixty years old, I'd have had her whipped too.

I didn't dress up for dinner of course, since it was just us slaves eating in the kitchen tonight, but I thought about it. I thought real hard about putting on one of my thousand dollar dresses and some pearls and diamonds, and making my face up beautiful. That would have put Mercy in a real spin if I'd done that. I contented myself with dressing normally, which meant nice enough anyway, since my Master didn't waste money on buying ugly clothes. I didn't own but one pair of pants and those were some old jeans I'd brought with me from home. They didn't fit my hips anymore, now that I finally had some.

"You didn't have to wait for me," I said, coming into the kitchen about fifteen minutes after Lilah had woken me up.

"You's gone learn you's ain't the only negra in the house no more," Mercy said, pushing me into a chair.

"What does that mean?" I rolled my eyes and looked at Tom Henry who was pulling up a chair of his own, looking washed up and wearing a clean, if somewhat faded shirt. It had buttons and a collar and everything, oh my!

"We's got ahselves a household now," Mercy said, and she and Lilah were putting food on the table. "You ain't a real slave, so's I spect that doan mean nothin' to you, huh."

"I'm not a real slave?" I stared at her for a moment before turning my eyes on Tom Henry. "That's you talking, ain't it?"

"You leave him be," she told me.

"He's got his opinion," I said. "He didn't have any problem talking this afternoon."

I felt like they'd just invited me down so they could gang up on me or something and I gave Lilah a dirty look, but she was innocent. She bit her lip and turned around quickly. It could be I'd come in looking for a fight too, but I wasn't going to admit it, not even to myself, so I put that thought out of my head.

"You're the lady of the house," Tom Henry said, looking at me. "And I don't know why you don't like me none, right from the first time you saw me."

"You think I'm trying to get you in trouble?" I snorted.

"Ain't you?" He stared me directly in the eyes. "Grabbin' me in front of the Master like you was. Askin' me to rub some lotion on your back like that."

"He isn't going to care." I laughed at him. "I don't know where you've been, but…"

"I've been a slave, that's where I've been," he told me. "The house I grew up in? A nigger play around with the Master's negra like that's gonna get hisself in a tree."

"In a tree?" I rolled my eyes. "What's that mean? Get himself in a tree?"

"He means a lynchin'," Lilah said softly, sitting down next to me.

"A lynchin?" I frowned at her. "What? Like hanging?"

"Yes ma'am." She nodded as Mercy was sat down on the other side of me. "That's the truth."

"You're crazy." I looked between Lilah and Tom Henry. "Nobody gets hanged no more, that's just a bunch of lies."

"It doan happen like it used to mayhaps," Mercy said. "But they's plenty niggers get lynched nowadays too."

"That's just abolitionist talk," I told her. "You oughta know better. You're gonna get in trouble for that."

"You the one oughta know better," Tom Henry said, and every time that boy opened his mouth, I bristled.

"Well there ain't nobody gonna get hung around here, just whipped," I said pointedly to him.

"Shush now. We's gone say Grace," Mercy said. We were quiet for a minute while she prayed over the food and at least this time she left me out of it.

"See…The house like I worked at before, there was a lot of slaves. More than here," Lilah said a few minutes later. "So we was like a family that way. Like you'd be my sister and Tom Henry like my brother, you know?"

"What for, if you're just gonna get sold or something?" I shrugged, reaching for some of those sweet potatoes.

"You's enough sweet taters right there," Mercy decided, taking the spoon away. I only had a little bit on my plate.

"Mercy!" I frowned.

"You gone get lardy the way you's eatin'." She shook her head and Mr. Reiser had told her to make sure I stayed on my diet. One that didn't include a whole lot of sweet potatoes, that was for sure.

"If you get sold, you're just going to another family that way, see?" Lilah smiled, answering my question.

"So all the slaves are part of one big family, huh?" I giggled at that.

"You don't know," Tom Henry said around a mouthful of pork cutlet. "You grew up with a ma and pa right there to feed you and wash your little black butt before you went to bed."

"Leave my little black butt out of it." I grinned at him, but I was more than a little annoyed and he knew it.

"I didn't never know who my daddy was." Lilah shrugged.

"Don't matter," I told her. "Your daddy was white anyway."

"My daddy wasn't white and he got sold when I was bout three years old, my momma when I was four," Tom Henry informed us. "I didn't have nobody 'cept the other slaves to raise me."

"And that's why you figure I ain't a real slave, huh?" I shook my head at him. "Cause I know who my daddy is? Cause I can go visit my parents every week if I want to?"

"You visit your parents?" Delilah blinked at me and I smiled at her.

"Every Sunday." I nodded.

"Yeah, like that," Tom Henry agreed with me. "You been a slave for what? A year? Some rich white man comes along and wants a new bedroom negra, so you gonna be his girl for a couple years, maybe five and then he's just gonna let you go."

"They don't never let us go," Lilah said softly.

"That ain't my fault," I said, feeling kind of defensive about it.

"Ain't sayin' it's your fault." Tom Henry shrugged. "Just sayin' what it is."

"Sounds like you're complaining about it," I told him. "Like one of those malcontents or something. You hear that Mercy? Tell this boy how he don't get to want, ain't that what you're always saying to me?"

"The boy's tryin' to explain 'bout how black is family," she said to me. "Ain't none of us white and we ain't never gone be white, this heah is what we got."

"Our Master is our family, yours and mine, Mercy." I stared at her. "You know it too."

"He's my suh, that's a fact," She said, nodding. "And right now he's holdin' on to you tight, but that doan do these two a lot of nothin', do it?"

"You people are like from another planet!" I laughed and sat back a bit in my chair. "What do you want from me anyways? I don't even know what you're saying."

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"Hmmm…What did she say then?" Mr. Reiser wondered as I undressed him slowly. We were in our bedroom and I knelt naked on the floor while he held my shoulders.

"I don't know," I told him, pulling his trousers down. "Lift your leg…I left after that."

"Heh." He took a breath and nodded. My Master had come home a little drunk.

"I want that boy whipped," I said, pulling those pants of his left foot. "He was insulting me…Other foot now."

"Insulting, eh?" He smiled at that for some reason.

"He was insulting you too, Master."

"Sounds to me like he just didn't want to fuck you." Mr. Reiser laughed and I looked up sharply.

"He's just a houseboy, isn't he?" I asked, somewhat rhetorically. "He's supposed to do what I say and if I want him to fuck me, then…"

"He better fuck you, right," he agreed with a grin, and I had his pants off.

Mr. Reiser's right hand moved to my head, stroking my hair as I pulled his boxers down, exposing his flaccid white penis.

"He was disrespectful and he needs to be whipped. You're gonna have him whipped, right?" I leaned forward kissing my owner's cock and I could smell him, a well-worn male musk rising from his skin, and I liked it.

"Uh…Dani…You might wanna let me take a shower," he said. "I've been fucking…"

"Someone's ass?" I giggled. "Smells like nigger ass too."

I opened my mouth, lowering my head and coming up to take his soft penis between my lips. I could taste the acrid, almost bitter flavor of someone's asshole on him, but I didn't care. 

"He had a pretty ass," Mr. Reiser sighed, pulling me harder to him as I felt his cock stirring in my warm wet mouth. "Oh…Yeah, I need that. Suck it."

"Mmmm…" I sighed, working my tongue all over my Master's erection, feeling it growing strong and thick until my mouth was full of him. I sucked greedily then, making loud noises as I bobbed my head, fucking him with my mouth and swallowing the juices quickly.

"You're gonna whip him right?" I breathed, pulling my lips away and stroking my Master's cock in my fist.

"Dani…" He looked down at me.

"Just whip him, so he won't ever treat me like that again," I said, pulling his cock to my face and sliding it across my dark pretty features. "Please, Master? He embarrassed me…Don't you love me?"

"You know I love you, but a whipping isn't a little thing."

"You know I love you," I sighed, taking him once more in my mouth. This time I took all of him, opening my throat and letting his cockhead find it, sliding the full length of the man inside me until my nose was buried in his pubic hair.

"Ohhhh Christ…" Mr. Reiser groaned, putting both hands on my head and fucking my throat as he held me still.

"Ummphhh…" I pulled away after a minute or two of throating him good. I was breathing heavily and dripping saliva and precum out of my slack mouth so it spilled onto my heaving breasts. I moved my body up, taking his cock between my tits, pushing them together with my palms and trapping his big wet cock between them with my fingers. I fucked him that way while I kissed his stomach and looked up with my big brown eyes.

"Please? Master…Whip him for me. He hurt me the way he was talking," I pouted. "He was laughing at me."

Mr. Reiser began thrusting with his hips, bending his knees so he could help me work his swollen penis between my firm round breasts. I dropped my chin, loosing a large dollop of spit that landed on the head of his cock and was quickly spread into the soft warm valley it traveled. He was feeling good, nodding and holding my shoulders again, squeezing me as he slid his cock back and forth.

"If you love me, you'll do it," I whispered. "You'll whip that boy good, Master."

"I should whip you," he said with a chuckle and then opened his eyes. "You want Tom Henry whipped?"

"That's what I've been saying!" I kissed his stomach. "Don't tease me! Am I the mistress of the house, or ain't I?"

"You remember this," he told me. "You remember how bad you want it."

"I won't forget." I kissed him again. "Please? Teach that boy his place, Master."

"I'll have him whipped," Mr. Reiser finally decided, pushing me down. "Just like you want, Dani."

"Thank you…I knew you would," I breathed, getting my legs around my Master's waist as he took me right there on the carpet.

I pulled him to me hard, his lips finding mine just as his slippery cockhead found my already lubricated anus. He pushed into me easily, sliding six inches deep with the first thrust and the remainder of his cock filling me a heartbeat later. I suckled his tongue like it was a penis, wrapping my lips around it and sucking the tip while I dug into his back with my heels, urging him to fuck me nicely. It was almost three in the morning and I'd been waiting all night for this, needing it and worrying, and wondering if I'd be able to get what I wanted.

Now I had it. That Tom Henry was going to get a real whipping and the next time I told that boy to do something, he'd jump out of his nigger skin to do it quick. Telling me I wasn't a real slave, or how we were all one big black family, that was all nonsense. I was Mr. Reiser's negra and he was making love to me, sliding his big white cock into my body nice and I was taking it for him. I felt hot inside, and tight as I kissed the man eagerly. I belonged to him. That boy didn't know a damn thing about me. I was all slave, all the way down to the marrow in my bones, and I didn't ever want to be anything else.

"Fuck me! Fuck me, Master…Give me that big white cock…Oh God!" I gasped, cumming just from being fucked like that. My hard black penis had been trapped between us and Mr. Reiser was making me cum while he loved me.

"Little whore, Danielle…Negra slut…You fuck good," he breathed, grinning at me, looking down into my face and feeling my girl cock spasm against his stomach.

"Yeah! Yes!" I giggled. "I fuck good…I want to fuck you good, Master."

We moved so he could get my legs over his shoulders and really drill my boy cunt deep. That was always our favorite position and I smiled, feeling nothing but pleasure as my Master bent me, doubled over with my knees near my shoulders. My ass and lower back rolled high off the carpet to give the man's prick a straight shot into the deepest parts of my bowels. He rocked me for five minutes like that, taking me as hard and fast as he wanted. It burned slightly, making me wince at the small discomfort that even a year of being fucked like that couldn't remove, but I loved that as much as any of it. It reminded me that I was his girl, his negra sissy cunt to fuck any way he wanted and I begged the man for his cum.

"Cum inside me, Master. Fill my ass…Fill my cunt…Please…Please…"

"Ughhhh…" He made a face, thrusting hard and then hard again, his penis stabbing into the soft, sensitive flesh at the bottom of my rectum.

I gasped with the awful ecstasy of it, bursting inside with the fire of our union. I pulled his mouth to mine once more, my body crushed and tangled beneath his weight. My Master was cumming, shooting his orgasm into my ass and I worked to squeeze myself around him, contracting my anus and rectum as if I could milk his cock for every precious drop. I wanted it all and forever, and I refused to let him go for a long while, until his softening cock finally slipped free of its own accord.

Mr. Reiser took me to bed after that. I'd gotten a washcloth and cleaned us both clean, and I cuddled against him in the dark. He fell asleep quickly, being drunk like he was, but I had a harder time, feeling excited in the knowledge that my Master was going to whip Tom Henry for me. It would teach all of them, I thought, Delilah and especially Mercy, that I wasn't just some house slave they could ignore or treat like any other negra who happened to come along. I was Mr. Reiser's bedroom negra, his mistress and lover and that elevated me above those slaveborn fools. They'd see how wrong they were about me, and after that nigger was whipped, Tom Henry would fuck me. I'd make sure of that too. He'd be there anytime I wanted him after that, whenever I was bored and our Master was too busy to take care of me like I needed, that boy would love me.

I'd own that stupid Tom Henry, I thought, and that put a smile on my face as I finally fell asleep.

 

Chapter 18