Contrasts (19 page)

“Strip her,” Watts ordered.

Trevor Bass took a razor blade from his pocket and swiftly cut both the blouse and the skirt from Ann’s body. Except for the heels, she was naked, her back toward them.

Nelson Suggs and Rona had arranged the chairs in a semi-circle around the platform.

Watts handed Rona a stiff riding crop. “One last chance, bitch,” Watts yelled. “Are you going to do what you were sent here to do?” Ann said nothing. Watts nodded at Rona who quickly brought the whip down across Ann’s back. Ann screamed. A dark red welt rose immediately.

“Ten,” Watts said. Rona grinned. Ann screamed with each crack of the whip. Several of the men had their hands on the outside of their pants pulling on their cocks and leaning closer. Ann twisted and tried to turn, but it was no use. Her toes barely touched the floor. Paul started to rise, but Suggs pushed him down in his chair. After three minutes Ann’s back and ass were crisscrossed with red welts. Her voice almost gone. After the tenth stroke, Watts asked again, “Are you going to do what you were sent here to do?” Ann didn’t answer. “Ten more,” Watts said.

Rona’s whip cracked again. After the third stroke, Ann hung limp from the cuffs and rasped, “I will. I will.”

Watts held up his hand. “This time,” he said, “I want you to beg. Beg your Mistress to permit you to make love to her cunt. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Ann croaked.

They lowered her to the floor where she lay sobbing for several minutes. Rona shoved her with her foot, “Crawl,” she said, “and beg.”

Ann crawled toward the parted legs of Watts’ wife. With her head lowered she struggled to get control of her voice, “Please,” she said, “let me make love to...to...your cunt.”

“Look up at me, bitch,” Tina said. Ann lifted her head. Tina leaned forward, “You ain’t worthy. Mascara’s all run, lipstick gone. Fix your fuckin face.”

Watts gestured toward Paul, “Throw your wife her purse,” he said. Paul slid the purse across the floor. Naked, with the welts beginning to seep dots of blood, she placed her small mirror on the floor and bent down to wipe her tear stained cheeks and reapply the mascara and lipstick. Her hand trembled. Twice she had to stop for several moments. After applying the lipstick and spreading a coat of the shiny gloss over her lips, she looked up at Tina again. “That’ll do.” Tina spread her fat thighs further apart. “Now, get close and ask again.”

Ann, on her knees, inched closer, then started to back away. Rona brought the whip down with a loud crack next to Ann’s hand. Ann flinched and looked up, terrified, into the mocking face of the young black girl. She quickly took the position. Still on her knees with her hands behind her neck she bowed her head, “Please, Mistress Watts, let me make love to your cunt,” she said.

“You lick it, lick my black cunt good till I cum?”

“Yes, Mistress, I will.”

Tina nodded and moved forward to the edge of her chair. Between the curly black pubic hair, her slit was pink. The scent was strong. At first Ann felt as if she might vomit. With one hand Tina parted her pussy lips and with the other she guided Ann’s head to her gleaming cunt. “Lick it, bitch,” she said. Tentatively, Ann began to lick along the crack, pausing over the bright red swollen clitoris. Just as the powerful scent of the black male’s crotch aroused her, she found the musky smell and the taste of this fat black woman’s secretions excited her. She drew the clitoris into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it, looking up into Tina’s face for approval.

Tina leaned back, “Yeah, like that.....do me like that.” Several of the men had reached inside their pants and were stroking themselves. Paul felt his cock straining inside his trousers and put his hand over it. Even Watts had rolled his chair closer to the women. The contrast was, as he’d expected, dramatic. Ann: her thin pale white naked body crisscrossed with the red whip marks, her beautifully made up face, on her knees, her head between the heavy thighs of his fat black wife, the pink tip of Ann’s tongue probing the black woman’s cunt and licking along the slit which oozed a glutinous secretion. It appeared that Tina was on the edge of cumming when she quickly leaned forward and, grabbing Ann’s hair yanked her head back. “Not yet, bitch,” she said, “not yet. Just set there a minute and look at it. When you want more, you know how to ask.”

Rona bent down toward Ann, “Hey,” she laughed, “the bitch’s face is all wet with pussy juice. I think she likes eatin black pussy.”

Tina chuckled, “That right, bitch? You like the taste of my pussy juice?”

Ann bowed her head, “Yes, Mistress,” she said softly. “I like the taste.

“How about the smell. You like the way my pussy smells?”

“Yes, Mistress Tina, I like the smell.”

“You want more?”

Ann raised her head, “Yes, please.”

Tina nodded. Ann moved forward and buried her head in the black woman’s crotch. She sucked Tina’s clitoris into her mouth and flicked it with the tip of her tongue. Tina slid forward and grabbed Ann’s head with both hands holding her tightly against her pussy and grinding it against Ann’s parted lips. She bucked and thrashed and cried out as a powerful orgasm wracked her body. She let go of Ann’s head. Ann slipped to the floor and lay between the black woman’s feet gulping in air and sobbing.

As he had earlier, Watts waited until she got control of herself. “Thank your Mistress,” he said.

Ann lifted her head slightly. Tina’s grinning face was a blur. “Thank you, Mistress Tina, for...for allowing me to...to pleasure you.”

“You gonna lick my cunt any time I wants you to, ain’t that right?”

“Yes, Mistress Tina.”

“Now,” Watts said, “crawl to me.” Painfully Ann crawled across the floor. When she got to Watts, she again took the position, on her knees with her hands behind her neck, her breasts pushed up and forward. “I expect you recognized the men I’ve invited here to watch your performance?”

Ann nodded, “They’re members of the poker club.”

“That’s right. For the past two years they’ve had a thing for Paul’s wife.” He handed her a slip of paper. “Since you’ve had a rather strenuous evening, we’re going to let you rest tomorrow, although you might expect a call from my nephew, Darnell. Do you know what phone sex is?”

“I think it’s talking dirty over the phone.”

“Well, dirty isn’t the word I’d use. It’s saying things, mostly kinky things that arouses the other person. If Darnell phones you that’s what you’re supposed to do. He wanted permission to use you tomorrow, but I told the boy he’d have to be satisfied with phone sex. You can do that, can’t you?”

Although she tried to deny it to herself, just the thought of Darnell was enough to harden her nipples and cause her pussy to moisten. “Yes, I think I can,” she said.

“Now,” Watts continued, “the day after tomorrow is Saturday, the traditional poker night. Paul is going to host he poker party, but he won’t be playing. He’ll be serving in whatever way he can. You, Mrs. Gardner, will also be serving in whatever way you can. Crawl to each of the men here and look up at them and read what’s on the paper I’ve given you.”

She looked at the paper and started to protest. Rona, anticipating her reaction, once more brought the whip down on the floor with a loud crack. Ann crawled to kneel before the nearest man, John Albertson. She read from the paper. “On Saturday evening I hope you will come to our house to play poker with your friends where I will either suck your cock or invite you to fuck me, whichever pleases you.” She crawled to each of the four remaining men and repeated the invitation. She noticed that some of them must have masturbated while watching her servicing Watts’ wife. Their pants were wet.

“I want to fuck her sweet ass,” Suggs said, looking over at Watts.

“Not till it’s ready. She got to work the big plug in and keep it there for awhile. Besides I promised her ass to a business partner who can do me a whole lot more favors than you can.” He waved a hand at Rona. “Get her something to wear.” Rona opened a closet and brought back a navy raincoat which she dropped in front of Ann. “Maybe I’ll come too and have you eat my pussy,” she said.

“Yeah,” Watts chuckled, “since your boyfriend dumped you I bet you need a little pussy action.”

Rona frowned, “That bastard. Since he playin first string for the fuckin Giants it gone to his head.”

“How come he’s first string?” Cliff Bass asked.

“Don’t you read the papers or watch the television?” Suggs asked. “The fuckin Giants lost their first string runnin back two weeks ago. Dumb shit got drunk and smashed up his Mercedes. He ain’t never playin again. Then in last week’s game his backup broke his ankle. So, on Sunday Rona’s old boyfriend, Danny Morgan, is the only decent runnin back they got left.”

Trevor Bass laughed, “He dropped Rona cause she suck all the man’s strength right out the end of his dick!”

“Fuck you,” Rona said.

Chapter Nine

Journal Entry

I just jerked off. I’m ashamed, terribly ashamed, but I could probably get myself off again. Seeing the black girl, Rona, whip my poor wife almost made me cum in my pants right in Watts’ office. Imagining Mistress Rona whipping me and making me eat her pussy is what made me cum by only squeezing my cock. I’ll probably spend most of the night thinking about it and jerking off. I must be crazy, certifiably insane, a major pervert. If I weren’t such a coward I’d kill myself, but that’s not going to happen. I’ve never felt so low, so damn disgusting in my life, but I’ve also never been this alive, this excited. Is it just wishful thinking, or might Ann be starting to feel the same way?

There are five guys coming here on Saturday night. She has to either fuck or suck each of them. Maybe they’ll let me watch. I hope they do. I hope Rona comes and makes me lick her.....even lick her ass. Oh, I’ve got to jerk it again.

Ann healed quickly. The next morning the whip marks had faded to a pale pink. Like Paul, she replayed the events of the evening and brought herself off three times. She showered for a long time and rubbed the soothing oil over her body. She’d become accustomed to seeing her bald pussy and was surprised and pleased to find that it was usually moist. All she had to do was recall any of the experiences of the past days and her nipples would stiffen. She smiled remembering that Danny Morgan was no longer involved with Rona, and that she might even be able to watch him on television this Sunday.

Through all that had happened, her feelings about Darnell disturbed her the most. He was a young arrogant thug, short and skinny and ugly, and mean. Most upsetting to her, he was her student. It was obvious from the first that he delighted in humiliating her. She knew if he wasn’t under Watts’ control, he’d humiliate her much worse than he had. She was aware that being able to dominate his beautiful and highly respected teacher inflated his ego. She remembered how he humiliated her in front of his classmates and showed her off to his “homies”; how he made her kiss him in front of them and ordered her to expose herself to them. She knew he wanted to have her more often, be seen with her in public and have others see how subservient she was to him, how anxious she was to please him. She realized he was without conscience and could be cruel and abusive. She also knew he resented the limitations Watts placed on him. But, although she tried not to, she found herself often thinking about him. When she masturbated it was remembering Darnell’s mouth and his cock, and how from the first day in her class, even before she’d signed Watts’ hateful contract, the boy both frightened and aroused her. It was if they both realized immediately he had some sort of unexplainable power over her.

He was going to call today for “phone sex”. She wasn’t at all sure she could think of things to say. If she were talking with someone like Danny Morgan or even one of the poker players or other men she’d submitted to lately, she might be able to do it. But Darnell was only a boy and her student!

She and Paul hardly spoke anymore. He was guilty and embarrassed. She had lost respect for him and at times felt herself ready to fall into an angry rage because of the situation he’d put her in. But she admitted part of the blame was hers. She stupidly signed the papers without even asking what they were for. But, she knew in her heart of hearts that Paul was doing something wrong and she was going along pretending she didn’t know.

She put on an old chenille robe and rested until early afternoon. She did her nails and tried to think of ways to get back at the young black slut, Rona, who had taken so much pleasure in whipping her. Then there was Tina. What could Gordon Watts see in that fat homely wife of his? He was the president of the NWS and could certainly demand all sorts of things from Ann, but he never had. Why was that, she wondered.

She was having a bagel and coffee alone in the kitchen when her special NWS phone buzzed. She saw that the caller was Darnell and felt a wave of heat wash over her. “Hello,” she said

“What you wearin?”

“Just my robe.”

“The see-through one?”

“No, an old one.”

“Is your face made up, lipstick and that shiny stuff and your eyes?”

“No. Mr. Watts said I should rest today.”

“You’re supposed to do what I say...that right?”

“Yes, honey.” She was aware that she’d called him ‘honey’ without being reminded.

“Well, forget the goddamn contract. If you want to talk to me put on your make up and the fuck-me shoes, and a see-through robe and call me back. You got the number.”

“You mean I don’t have to call you back?”

“What the fuck did I just say! The only way I gonna talk to you is if you get yourself lookin all hot and sexy for me. You don’t want to do that, don’t call. I’ll leave my phone connected for another hour. After that, I’m shuttin it off.”

She couldn’t quite grasp what he meant. “Are you saying you’re not ordering me to call you?”

“That’s what I’m sayin. I want my woman lookin good when she phones me or I don’t want her phonin me.” He clicked off.

She placed her phone beside the coffee cup and smiled.
‘He said it twice,’
she thought.
‘I don’t have to talk to him. It’s my choice which is a no brainer’
. She poured herself another cup of coffee. What had he called her? My woman? Where did the little skinny black punk get off calling her “HIS” woman?