...of all Possible Worlds - Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mr. Davis was one of those men who are neither handsome nor ugly, but unremarkable physically. He was taller than my five foot nine by four or five inches at least, and of course thicker and stronger. He had a small belly starting, a thin spare tire around his waist, which had never bothered me one way or the other. His eyes were blue and nice above a friendly smile and a strong nose. His short brown hair was unremarkable and just starting to cover his ears and thinning a little on top. He was an average man and if he hadn't been my teacher, I suppose I never would have given him a second look, simply because I was owned and loved by someone else.
I'm different, being a boy who is completely passable as a beautiful girl, or young woman I should say. I was going to be eighteen soon and I'd grown up to meet my Master's expectations. Mr. Reiser had spent a lot of money turning me into his trophy negra, enhancing the gifts nature had already given me. I have a woman's shape, with large breasts and a narrow waist, round hips and a firm, very round ass. Long legs and smooth, soft brown skin to go with my hair, which was straight and black and loose to my shoulders at that time.
My face is naturally pretty, even beautiful to a lot of men, without the stereotypical African features one might expect from a negra. A smallish nose, almost pert beneath my wide caramel eyes. I have high cheeks and full, sensual lips. My voice is soft and pitched perfectly for a woman after having some small surgery to shorten my vocal cords. I'd taken hormones and maintained my diet and exercise, working hard to keep my weight around one twenty five or so, which suits my feminine form just fine. I'd been spoiled with a closet full of designer clothing, jewelry enough to make any woman a feel like a princess, and my own Mercedes sports coup.
I was a slave, but arrogant and proud of myself nonetheless. I had every right to be. I was young and beautiful and I had a pretty penis, a girl cock tucked inside my panties, smallish sperm filled balls in my soft hairless scrotum, and a tight hot ass, my sweet little boy pussy that my Master loved to fuck. There weren't a lot of slaves like me and it made me valuable, enough so that I was insured, like anything else my Master might own. He'd had me assessed at fifteen thousand dollars, I knew, and in the Confederacy of the South, where a good middle class salary was perhaps twenty thousand a year, that was about as much as any slave could ever be worth. He had to pay a luxury tax on me every year, and spend God only knew how much on my female maintenance, but Mr. Reiser didn't complain. He enjoyed me immensely.
So I had a right to be proud of myself and happy as well. I wasn't only my Master's bedroom negra, I was his lover and mistress, and that was the biggest reason I was happy to be a slave. It was the only way we could be together, Mr. Reiser and I, and being possessed by the man was the great joy in my life. But now I was stolen, possessed by another, and Mr. Davis was a man I couldn't love. Not because he couldn't buy me the clothes I liked or the jewelry I enjoyed, but more because he wasn't my Master and I was a slave in my heart as much as my flesh.
We were four hours and about two hundred miles from Memphis, near as I could figure, in a cheap love motel just on the other side of Little Rock, Arkansas. It was a long ways to California and Mr. Davis was a careful driver, keeping us below the speed limit and not taking the chance of getting pulled over with a stolen negra in his possession.
"…I don't even have any clean clothes," I frowned, coming out of the shower and at least I felt a little better.
"We can buy some in the morning. Come here now." Mr. Davis was already undressed, laying naked on the one large bed that came with the small room, like there wasn't anything else a guest might want but that. He was playing with his cock, not an overly large one, but nice enough and I'd been intimate with it for nearly two years already.
"I'm not in the mood," I told him and that took just about all the bravery I had, considering my upbringing and who and where we were. A slave didn't talk to a white man like that. Never.
"What?" He stared at me then, his blue eyes looking all hurt and angry and confused. "You better get in the mood, Dani," he said softly. "I'm doing all this for you."
"You're not my Master." I licked my lips. "And if you've got a plan to see me free up North, well…"
"I've got a plan to see you married," he smiled, trying to be patient. "I'm not your Master, no, but you best start thinking of me as your husband and come to bed now."
"Like it's the same thing?" I shook my head. "I want to go home, Mr. Davis. I don't love you."
"You will, I promise…"
"You can't promise that."
"…I'll treat you so good, Danielle." He was getting up, moving towards me as I stood near the foot of the bed. "I'll do anything for you."
"Then let me go, please?" I begged him gently. "Take me home."
"No." He shook his head, putting his hands on my waist, squeezing me through the damp towel I wore. "I can't do that."
"Don't," I said, crossing my arms as he was trying to tug the towel away. "I don't want to have sex with you."
"Yes, you do," he chuckled softly, "Come here now…Don't be like that."
"No!" I slapped at his hands. "Stop it. I'm gonna sleep on the floor or something."
"No, you aren't," he shook his head and he was really grabbing me, pulling me while I twisted and tried to get away.
I didn't really believe he'd actually force me, but Mr. Davis wasn't letting me go. He was coming off the bed awkwardly, fighting to hold me while I slapped at his shoulders and twisted my hips. The towel came loose in his hands and I stepped back, naked now and breathing hard. I looked around, like there might be something to defend myself with, but there wasn't anything, not even a desk lamp or a heavy ashtray I might hit him upside the head with.
"Just…Stay away from me…" I warned him, "…I mean it. I don't love you. I was fucking you cause I had to, that's all."
"I guess you're gonna have to again," he said and Mr. Davis had a crazy look on his face and probably I shouldn't have been saying that stuff, but it was too late.
"Nooooo…" I screamed and he was grabbing me around the waist, picking me up while I kicked and scratched at him, gouging his shoulder and drawing a little blood, but he didn't seem to notice.
"Get down…Fuck…Bitch!" He threw me on the bed, on my tummy with him falling right behind me and the man was hard, his cock excited and swollen with the effort to overcome my weak resistance.
"No! No…Please…Don't do this!" I was twisting and trying to reach behind me, wanting to scratch him up some more, but he had me pinned down easily.
Mr. Davis wasn't a big man, but he was bigger than me and a lot stronger, plus he had the urgency to take me filling his blood. I kicked and flailed, but there wasn't anything I could do as I felt him forcing his turgid prick between the cheeks of my tight brown ass. I screamed again and someone in the next room was pounding on the wall, telling us to be quiet and that seemed pretty insane as it should have been plain that I was being raped. Mr. Davis pressed his weight down upon me, grabbing my wrists in his hands and pushing with hips hard, forcing his cock inside my anus painfully as I squeezed my muscles and tried to keep him out.
"Stop fighting me!" he growled and suddenly slapped me on the side of my head. Not a punch really, but it felt like one and everything went dim for a second, with little lights flashing behind my eyes.
The shock of being hit by the man took the fight out of me as much as it did anything else. I'd never been struck before, not like that, and it hurt me everywhere, but mostly inside. I went limp and my eyes filled with tears. Mr. Davis pushed his cock inside me as far as it would go, stretching my still tender anus painfully, and I shivered, sobbing beneath the man as he began fucking me in earnest. He slid his penis in and out of my boy pussy rapidly, groaning with pleasure while he kissed my neck and shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Dani…God, I'm sorry…" he was whispering breathlessly, fucking me with his knees straddling my thighs, his firm hands gripping my shoulders, "…I shouldn't have done that…You shouldn't have made me do that…I love you…"
I shuddered, pressing my face against the mattress so he wouldn't try and kiss me there, crying like I was a little boy again while he raped my ass. There was nothing good in it for me. I felt cold all over, or not even that, just numb and I wanted him to hurry up and finish so I could take another shower and wash him away.
"Oh, you fuck so good…All I ever wanted was you, Dani, just you…" He was sliding his hands beneath me, wanting to feel my tits and I didn't resist.
Mr. Davis took my breasts in his hands, massaging me and probably imagining that I was enjoying it, but I didn't. My nipples weren't hard, no matter how much he rubbed them. My skin itched where he kissed me, where his body touched mine, it didn't burn with desire the way his did. My asshole was warm for him though, nice and tight and accepting his cock as he fucked me, but I wasn't doing anything to help. I just lay there and when Mr. Davis finally had his orgasm, driving his cock balls deep into my bowels and moaning with his rapt ecstasy, I closed my eyes tightly against it. The sensation of his seed filling me was unwelcome and ignore it.
I felt humiliated by what Mr. Davis had done, stained by the knowledge that I'd been unable to stop the man from taking me. It was one thing to be a slave, to be a negra and have to fuck someone I didn't care for. That was reasonable and I could see nothing wrong with it, but this was something else and I hated him then. I'd never hated anyone before, but I hated Mr. Davis for raping me and I hoped we did get caught. I hoped he went to jail for a long time and got fucked like I did, just cause I'd heard it happened like that to some men. I really wanted him to know what it felt like.
"Oh, God…You're so beautiful. I love you so much, Dani." He was kissing me again, urging me to turn my face towards him so he could kiss my lips. "We're going to be so happy together."
"Let me up," I said quietly, ignoring his lips as they touched mine and not pushing him or anything, but just saying the words without emotion.
"Sure, yeah…Here…" He was still inside me, his cock still hard, but he pulled himself free and then knelt, giving me room to move.
I went into the bathroom and locked the door.--------------------------------------------------------
I waited for a long time, lying in bed next to him and making sure Mr. Davis was asleep. I was tired too and it must have been really late, after three in the morning probably. He was quiet beside me though, not moving at all, and I'd waited about as long as I could and then I waited a little longer.
There was a telephone on the nightstand next to him and all I had to do was call oh-five-five and get the police. I'd report myself stolen and then they'd come. They'd arrest Mr. Davis and take me back to my Master. He'd know I hadn't run away. They'd find my car with the flat tire sitting at the school. All my clothes would be at home. My jewelry too, the frightfully valuable jewelry Mr. Reiser had spoiled me with, as well as the personal jewelry my mother had given me. I wouldn't have left without my charm bracelet or my locket or my ring. I would have taken the rest too, just to sell or trade if I was really running away. I would have brought clothes with me, some personal stuff that I'd need on the run. Nobody leaves with nothing but a purse and a little makeup.
Yeah, they'd know I hadn't run away. I'd been stolen. My Master would know it in his heart because we were in love and he knew that too. That was the biggest reason.
So I'd waited and when I was sure Mr. Davis was sleeping I slipped out of the bed slowly, carefully. I was being so quiet and my heart was pounding so hard I thought maybe it would wake the man up. I walked silently to the bathroom first, just in case he might wake up and catch me out of bed. I looked over my shoulder, watching his form in the dim light, but Mr. Davis didn't move at all.
I crept to the nightstand, holding my breath and then I reached for the phone. It was quiet, very quiet and I was almost afraid to touch the thing, stretching my hand out and frowning because he was turned that way. If Mr. Davis opened his eyes he'd see me and so I was doing it so slowly it was almost painful. I felt the plastic receiver beneath my finger tips and I made sure I had a good grip on it before I picked it up. I couldn't afford to drop it or rattle it around and my hand was shaking so I furrowed my brow, concentrating and then I picked it up.
I leaned forward, pressing it to my ear as my fingers sought the buttons on the base of the thing, big dark numbers, square ones, and I was already pushing them when I realized there wasn't any sound in my ear. The numbers weren't lighted up as they ought to be and then Mr. Davis was looking at me.
"Who are you calling, Dani?" He grabbed my wrist and he didn't sound too happy.
"Ummm…My parents," I lied. "I want to talk to my daddy…Owwww…"
"Lying bitch!" He jerked me off balance, pulling me down to the bed, on top of him and then rolling over, trapping me suddenly beneath his body.
The phone had come off the nightstand with a loud clatter and I realized I was still holding the handset and I swung it at him, trying to hit Mr. Davis in the head with it, but he was pinning me down and my arm wasn't free to move as much as I needed it to. All I did was hit him on the shoulder with it and that didn't do me any good. He took the phone away from me and I struggled, fighting the man the way I had earlier and with even less success, and I was just crying again anyway. I'd invested so much energy and hope in getting to that telephone only to find out that Mr. Davis had unplugged it from the wall. I felt exhausted and all the man had to do was hold me for a few minutes and then I was quiet.
Mr. Davis tied me up then, using the thin phone cord he'd unplugged from the wall to tie my wrists together behind my back. I told him he didn't have to do that. I wasn't going to try and get away, not anymore, but he didn't believe me. He was angry and half crazy, I thought, and for whatever reason fighting me, tying me up like that, it had somehow gotten him excited again. His cock was swollen and he was stroking it as he caught his breath, grinning at me like he really was crazy and I'd never been so frightened in my life of anything before.
"You're a bad girl, Dani!" he grunted, stabbing his cock inside my ass and I was on my back, with my arms uncomfortably caught beneath me.
He had my legs over his shoulders, my body rolled up the way my Master liked to do it sometimes, and Mr. Davis was looking into my face while he raped me for the second time that night. I was truly helpless that way, tied and pinned to the bed by his body with his erect penis buried inside me. All I could do was look up at him, watching his dark face in the shadows while he thrust in and out of my boy pussy. He thought we were making love.
"If you keep fighting me like this…Ugh!" He pushed his cock deep and held it there for a moment, enjoying the warm confines of my rectum. "…You're only hurting…Yourself," he breathed. "I don't want to hurt you. I never…Ummm…Want to hurt you, Dani…"
"I'm not gonna fight you," I promised softly, blinking away my tears but that didn't do any good. I had a lot of them inside.
"Ohhh…Dani…" He kissed me and this time I did return it, as eagerly as I was able, accepting his tongue and tickling it with mine. I'd stopped crying somehow, realizing it wasn't doing me any good. I could cry later, I told myself, I had to do something else.
"You don't have to tie me up," I breathed a moment later, telling the man what he wanted to hear, "…I'm sorry. I do love you…I do."
"Yeah…I know you do," he nodded. "Fuck me. Show me how much you love me, Dani."
Mr. Davis moved us so that I was on top of him, straddling his stiff cock with my hands still tied behind my back. I was riding him the best I could, lifting my ass and bringing it down slowly, letting his penis sink into the hot depths of my asshole. When I had him completely, I'd roll my hips and grind my ass around while Mr. Davis reached up to play with my heavy tits, caressing my flesh and playing with my nipples. I tried to put all the bad thoughts out of my head. I wanted him to believe me and I was squeezing my ass muscles, working his prick like the bedroom negra I was, fucking the man good.
I had to convince him that I was with him him, that he could trust me again, and to do that I had to make it good for both of us.
The sex really did feel good too, once I let it, and having my hands tied behind my back actually added something, although I hated to admit it just then. I didn't mind it, put it that way, but I wasn't over my anger or resentment at all. He was going to fuck me either way though and being forced hadn't been fun, so this was better and I found myself responding to it. My nipples hardened, beginning to burn as I rocked that hard dick inside me, and my little girl cock stiffened as my balls bounced off the man's warm flesh beneath me. He was lasting a long time too, which made it better because I needed that time to get into it.
"Play with my girl cock," I whispered, "Touch it for me."
I was stiff now, my penis as hard as it could get and swinging around as I moved, slapping our sweaty bodies occasionally. Mr. Davis took me in his right hand, licking his lips and staring at it, and I wished the lights were on so I could see him better. He was holding me, pulling the foreskin back and giving me little squeezes that felt amazingly good. I was still a bit sore from my gang-bang the night before, and then from being taken forcefully by Mr. Davis several hours earlier, but it was feeling good riding that hard cock up and down and I liked being on top. I could take him as deep as I wanted and move my hips and pelvis to work the swollen head around inside me, letting him rub the good places.
"Ohhh…Yeah, Dani…Jesus…" My former teacher was pushing up now, his left hand holding my hip and his right jerking me off in time with our fucking.
"Yeah…" I grinned down at him. "Fuck me good…Fuck my boy pussy good…I want to feel you cumming inside me."
My body was warm all over and the familiar sensation of butterflies filled my tummy. My balls were getting tight and my penis was straining with the need to cum. I was forgetting everything that had happened, or almost forgetting. What Mr. Davis had done was never completely out of my head and probably never would be, but the sex was really good for both of us and I wasn't fighting anything anymore. I had to get his trust back and unlike a real woman, I wasn't gong to be able to fake any orgasms…At least that's what I was telling myself. That was my excuse.
The truth was that some part of me did like it. The same way I'd liked the cop who'd raped me when I was sixteen, or just the other night when my Mistress had bound gagged me. A small part of me liked being helpless and humiliated, taken against my will and used. Even the anger and resentment I felt for Mr. Davis and what he was doing to me couldn't hide the fact that I was getting off on being tied up and forced to fuck him. But don't get me wrong either, I could have turned off those good feelings real easy anytime I wanted to. I was only getting off this time because I wanted to, it had nothing to do with Mr. Davis. It doesn't make sense, I know, but that's the best I can explain it.
"Ummm…" I was so close and I didn't want to cum, not yet.
I let myself fall forward, pressing my aching tits against Mr. Davis' chest and I kissed him hard, shoving my tongue into his mouth while he took my ass in his hands. He was fucking me now as I crouched over him, my cock trapped between us, and he was thrusting himself up and into me deep and fast, sucking my tongue and groaning into my mouth. The man was cumming quickly then, his cock growing a fraction larger just before I felt his hot semen flooding my rectum once more. He held me tightly with his arms wrapped around my waist, keeping me impaled helplessly upon his pulsing manhood and I worked my asshole around it, squeezing him eagerly for more.
We kissed deeply for several minutes like that, until his balls were exhausted and my rectum filled with his cum. His cock slipped out of me as it grew soft and we were both breathing heavily. I didn't say anything as I moved slowly, straddling his body with my knees, and I brought my still hard penis to his mouth. He didn't hesitate, but opened for my girl cock and took me into his willing mouth.
Mr. Davis held my ass in his hands, massaging me with his strong fingers while I moved my hips, sliding my penis in and out of his soft wet lips slowly, letting him get used to it. He hadn't done this often, but he was getting better at it, and I felt the man's tongue bathing me, licking and tickling my cock as he'd felt me do it for him a hundred times before. I groaned, feeling his fingers finding my dilated asshole, slick with his semen as my teacher's orgasm leaked out of me, and Mr. Davis pushed a finger inside me slowly, fingering my sloppy boy pussy and sending small shivers up my spine.
I was cumming after just a few minutes, sliding my girl cock across my teacher's tongue and then filling his mouth with my creamy load. I gasped, arching my back and feeling giddy and lightheaded with the pleasure of my climax. Mr. Davis swallowed thickly, eating as much of my cum as he could and the rest spilled from his lips as he panted for air. I giggled at him while the man smiled up at me, licking his lips and nodding in agreement with my happy mood. He was like all men, I suppose, thinking that having sex meant we were okay again, but all it really meant was that we'd had sex.--------------------------------------------------------
"You're not talking to me, is that it?" Mr. Davis was driving and I was laying down in the backseat of his car. I'd ignored him since waking up at noon, saying as little as I could, if even that much.
"I told you I was sorry, Danielle. Come on," he said, pleading with me now. He'd played it cool for almost four hours, but now his patience was wearing thin.
"Hey, we're almost to Oklahoma City. We'll stop by a store, okay?" He was trying to bribe me. "You need some clothes, right? Some other stuff?"
A few more miles went by in silence.
"Suit yourself," he sighed. "I guess you can wash your clothes in the sink when we get a motel room."
"Don't you miss your wife yet?" I finally said, sitting up and looking out the window. "Ain't you gonna miss your kids?"
"They'll be alright," Mr. Davis glanced over his shoulder at me. "You don't have to worry about that."
"What about money?" I asked. "How much have you got?"
"Enough to get us where were going," he said cautiously. "I cashed in my life insurance, had some in savings. We'll be alright. I'll take care of you."
"They're going to know I'm not a runaway," I said. "And by now they probably know you took me. They're going to be looking for us."
"All we have to do is get across the border," Mr. Davis replied. "They can't look for us there."
He was talking about Utah which had seceded from the Union in the middle of the war and declared itself a religious autonomy, sorta like Vatican City in Rome, except a lot bigger, of course. Anybody could live there, but you had to join the Mormon Church and they were kind of fanatic about it, from what I'd heard. I'd never met a Mormon, or knew anybody who'd ever been to Utah, so it was all kind of a mystery to me.
"They're probably gonna make us convert," I sighed. "And how are we going to get across the border anyway?" I shook my head. "The Border Patrol's going to scan me. Every cop in the country is gonna be looking for you, looking for your car probably."
"It's a big border, Dani." Mr. Davis turned to smile at me. "We'll make it."
We rode in silence for a little bit and I couldn't think of a way to convince the man to turn us around. I'd tried love and common sense, but neither of those worked. Mr. Davis was just infatuated with me for some reason and it was probably going to get him killed. If he got caught trying to get me out of the South and into Utah he'd be guilty of treason. Stealing is one thing, he'd just go to jail for that, but trying to take a slave to her freedom was a hanging offense. I couldn't believe he wasn't afraid of the consequences. Even if he really did love me, which I doubted, it wasn't worth dying for.
"You made me cry last night," I frowned at him.
"I know," he nodded, looking back at the road. "I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to…For that to happen. You have to trust me."
"Yeah," I sighed. "Find a store."
We came across a mall soon enough, sprawled out close to the highway like they always are. One of the big department stores anchoring the place down was a Sears and Roebuck and that was good enough for me. It reminded me of better times, shopping with my mom and later, picking out boy clothes for Delilah. It made me happy and sad at the same time for some reason.
"You're going to be a good girl, right?" Mr. Davis asked me as he parked his car.
"What?" I looked at him. "Yeah, of course."
"I'm serious, Dani. You hold my hand the whole time. I don't want you running off or trying anything on. Nothing like that, just in and out."
"Hold hands?" I grinned at him. "That might look a little funny, you holding hands with a negra."
"You let me worry about that," he said seriously. "So far as anybody cares you're my negra, so don't you say anything different. When you talk to me, just call me master or sir, understand?"
"Yes sir," I rolled my eyes, but there was no way I'd ever call Mr. Davis master. I only had one of those and I was missing my Master terribly.
I did have it in mind to try and get away somehow, but Mr. Davis wasn't taking any more chances than he needed to. He held my hand nearly the whole time we were in the store, which wasn't awfully long anyway, and if anyone wondered about it, they didn't say anything. We did get some looks though, because even the most devoted owner didn't usually show affection for his bedroom negra in public. It wasn't illegal or anything, just plain bad manners.
"Hmmm…" Mr. Davis lifted a padded hanger with a red lace negligee hanging from it and smiled at me.
"Oh please," I muttered sarcastically, flipping through bras to find a plain white one that didn't have any lace at all.
"I think it's your size," he said and I was about to say something smart when I noticed a middle-aged white woman standing nearby. She was doing her best to ignore me and especially Mr. Davis as he held the lingerie against my body, as if trying to judge how I'd look in it.
"It's beautiful, sir," I said, keeping the edge out of my voice and playing the good slave for that woman's benefit. I knew I'd see the man's temper again if I made any kind of scene and it just wasn't worth getting dragged out of the mall like a dumb negra. I still had my pride and more than any fear of what Mr. Davis might do to me if he was angry, that was the reason for my good behavior.
Mr. Davis was able to get me most of what I needed at least and a small suitcase to keep it in. Some panties, a couple bras, blouses and skirts and a pair of really short-shorts in hot pink. I giggled when I saw them and wondered why the Sears back in Memphis never carried clothes like that. Some shoes and makeup, you know, all the stuff I would have brought with me if I'd really been running away. He even bought me a pair of earrings, cheap ones that made me laugh. I thought the man had to be joking, but he was serious and thought they were nice.
I liked shopping, but this wasn't nearly as much fun as it should have been. Buying those cheap clothes was reminding me all the more that I wasn't going back home, at least not anytime soon. It made me feel farther away from my Master than ever, as if I were changing into someone else, and I didn't want to change. It was depressing and by the time we were done I just wanted to get out of there and never see that stupid mall or Oklahoma City ever again.
"Change here," Mr. Davis told me and I looked around nervously.
"I'm not going to change clothes in a parking lot!" I laughed at the man.
"Hurry up," he said, digging through the shopping bags on the hood of his car. "Nobody's going to see. Here…" he tossed me a plaid skirt, pleated and looking something like my old catholic schoolgirl uniform, "…put this on."
"You're sick," I told him. "You know that?"
"And this too," Mr. Davis found a plain white blouse and he'd picked out that particular outfit. Obviously the man had some fantasies and couldn't wait to see me in them.
"God! Let me get in the car then," I frowned and at least we were parked kind of away from the mall entrance, in the middle of a bunch of other cars. I just really hoped nobody would come along and catch me getting naked.
"No. Just change right there," Mr. Davis told me, totally ignoring my discomfort.
"Give my underwear," I told him, finding the price tag on the blouse and snapping the thin plastic with my fist.
"You don't need any underwear," he chuckled and I just shook my head at that.
I undressed quickly, getting naked in the parking lot like some kind of slut, and put on the clothes my former math teacher wanted me to. The blouse fit me okay, except it was thin, white cotton and so my nipples were plain as day without a bra to give me some modesty. They weren't really hard or anything, but large enough to poke out some, and of course they're very dark. The skirt was too short and I'd told him that in the store, but that had only made Mr. Davis smile. It fit around my waist okay, but was kind of tight around my hips and ass, and as long as I was standing it was alright. Sitting down wasn't going to work at all though! That plaid skirt wasn't going to hide anything, no matter how I crossed my legs anyone who saw me was going to know I wasn;t wearing panties and if I wasn't careful, they'd know I wasnt even a girl.
"Oh Fuck…" Mr. Davis breathed, staring at me and rubbing the bulge in his trousers as I put on my black heels, the same shoes I'd worn to school the day before.
"Satisfied?" I asked him sarcastically, crossing my arms under my tits as I stood there. "Can we get out of here now?"
"Not yet," Mr. Davis breathed and he had a smile on his face that I didn't much care for.
"What?" I laughed doubtfully. "You want me to blow you or something?"
"Come on," he said. "I want to see you walking around."
"Walking around?" I narrowed my eyes and looked down at myself. I looked like a poster child for men with negra schoolgirl fantasies.
"In the mall," Mr. Davis was grabbing the shopping bags and digging for his keys so he could look them in the car.
"This is all you want, huh?" I shook my head. "It's just sex for you, all the time, isn't it?"
He didn't bother to answer me and I didn't bother to refuse. I let Mr. Davis parade me through the shopping mall with that short skirt exposing my long brown legs nearly to my ass, and my perfect tits straining against the sheer cotton of my blouse. I kept my eyes down like a good negra, avoiding the lusty stares of every man in the place. I burned with humiliation at the comments made by white men, some whispered loudly, but most of the talk deliberately intended to reach my ears.
I felt like an animal, like I was in a zoo, and while I'd always been proud of my beauty and eager to show myself off that way, this was different. This wasn't about being attractive, it was about being an object. A thing useful for masturbation, without feelings or ego or any regard for who I was. They didn't want to know me, they just wanted to use me and throw me away when they were done like a used condom. I'd suffered such things before, but never alone; unlike Mr. Reiser and Miss Corinne, Mr. Davis offered me no refuge in his love.
For the first time in my life I truly felt like a slave.