...of all Possible Worlds
by T.S. Severe

Chapter 20


I couldn't say for sure what it was that finally broke me. Maybe it was the
tension I felt between my Master's wishes and his obligation, his
unhappiness at promising me something when he wasn't of a mind to make the
best choice possible. Or it could be the way Tom Henry was sitting so still
behind me, stoic and peaceful and knowing he was going to take a real
whipping shortly, for no good reason except I wanted him to. Maybe too it
was just the quiet in the car, the sun still up but falling fast and red
and looking like there ought to be nothing wrong at all anywhere.

"Master?" I said hesitantly and when his chin moved slightly I spoke
up. "I...I changed my mind, if you'll excuse me."

"Changed your mind about what, Danielle?" Mr. Reiser asked steadily and he
wasn't giving me any looks, no help with his eyes or his voice.

"About whipping Tom Henry, sir." I licked my lips. "He doesn't deserve that
and...and I'm sorry I asked you to do it."

"Is that a fact." He said and it didn't sound like a question at all, but I
answered anyway.

"Yes sir." I nodded. "He angered me some, but I was wrong for thinking he
ought to be whipped for it." I swallowed hard. "I'm just a house negra and
I don't have any call for treating him like I've been."

"I see." Mr. Reiser cleared his throat. "So you think I can just change my
mind too then."

"Can't you?" I asked, even gasped a little maybe because it sounded an
awful lot like he wasn't going to.

"A man says he's going to do something, generally he's got to do it." My
Master said and then he did look at me. "Don't you think?"

"Yes sir." I said softly and Mr. Reiser nodded. "Unless he knows it's
wrong."

"Hmph." Mr. Reiser gave a little smile at that, staring at the road ahead
and I couldn't do anything else but wait and see what he decided.

We rode the rest of the way in silence.

"Good evening Miss Danielle." An old black man named Samuel was the doorman
most nights and he'd see me often enough by now to greet me by name, which
was nice.

"Hi Samuel, thank you." I returned his smile as he held the door and I
walked into the mansion followed closely by Tom Henry and our Master.

"We'll eat first." Mr. Reiser decided and we went to the dining room,
finding it mostly empty due to the relatively early hour.

Tom Henry didn't seem to have much of an appetite, naturally, and neither
did I, but Mr. Reiser insisted we fill our plates from the buffet, mostly
salad for me of course. He told us it was going to be a long night and it
sure felt like it just then. So far as we knew Tom Henry was still bound
for the whipping post and he'd need his strength for that, or so our Master
appeared to suggest in a roundabout way.

"Cockfights tonight." Mr. Reiser said for no real reason that I could tell
and a waiter was pouring champagne into a glass for me. "Are they having
cockfights tonight?"

"Yes sir." The waiter replied. "Every Sunday night, out back in the
garner."

"Huh." My Master nodded and looked at Tom Henry, who was seated between us
on my left at the square table. "Do you know about cockfighting?"

"Yes sir." Tom Henry nodded. "I've heard of it before."

"That's like chickens, right?" I sipped some champagne and smiled at the
bubbles. "Roosters or something?"

"Or something." Mr. Reiser smiled at me. "Ever seen it Tom? Been in one?"

"No sir." Tom Henry licked his lips and he had some champagne too, but he
wasn't drinking any. "I reckon I'm a little smallish for that."

"What?" I giggle, looking at Tom Henry and wondering what they were talking
about. 

I was squirming a little too as that butt plug was jammed in me deep by
then, but the strange thing was that I was getting used to it, a little
bit. The real discomfort was gone, but the pleasure remained and I actually
found myself looking for ways to move that fat bit of rubber around so I
could feel it fresh. It was a mighty distraction and every now and then my
Master would catch me, smiling like he knew exactly what I was up to and
that would make me burn with some small bit of humiliation.

"You have some muscles." Mr. Reiser judged. "Some wits about you too. The
biggest cock doesn't always fuck the girl."

"Oh!" I gasped and grinned at my Master and the mood was finally changing.

"Heh." Tom Henry smiled at that and nodded. "Yes sir, I suppose that's
true."

"You know what happens to the loser, Tom Henry?" My Master asked the boy
nodded his head slowly. "I thought you probably did."

"What happens?" I asked, looking back and forth between them. "What loser?"

"Now, I brought you all the way out here for a whipping." Mr. Reiser
shrugged. "One Danielle doesn't think you deserve, but you're here anyway
so I'll give you a choice between the post or the ring."

"What ring?" I laughed with frustration. "Master!"

"Not much of a choice, I know." Mr. Reiser smiled. "But I think a boy like
you wouldn't say no anyway, would you Tom Henry?"

"Well, sir." The boy shifted slightly. "I wouldn't say no to anything you
want me to do, no sir."

"I'm not going to tell you that have to fight." Mr. Reiser said seriously.

"A fight?" I blinked at my Master, giving my butt a little wriggle around
that plug. "Tom Henry's gonna fight somebody?"

"I'll do it, sir." Tom Henry nodded and even smiled. "I've been in a tussle
or two."

"Good." Mr. Reiser smiled too. "Good for you, Tom. You better eat some
then, you'll be needing it later."

Tom Henry nodded at that and I could feel him relaxing slightly and he
started eating as he quickly regained his appetite.

"Can you tell me what's going on now?" I asked my Master, giving him a
little pout.

"Cockfighting is nigger wrestling, two black men in the ring." Mr. Reiser
said. "Tom Henry's going to be fighting later tonight."

"Wrestling?" I narrowed my eyes. "Does that hurt?"

"Heh." Mr. Reiser laughed and grinned at Tom Henry who was smiling at me as
well. "It can be painful, I suppose. Not much blood though, it's strength
and agility and brains, more than just violence."

"Okay." I nodded at that. "Not like...Those old Roman gladiator guys,
right? Thumbs up and down and all that?"

"What?" Mr. Reiser shook his head. "No, not like that. Nobody dies and
there's no swords or lions."

"Good." I decided, rocking my hips a bit to feel that plug in my butt fill
me a little more, if that were even possible.

"It's more like the ancient Greeks, a friendly contest." Mr. Reiser
decided, sipping his wine and giving me a look as I squirmed. "More or
less."

"Okay." I felt myself warm all over and turned away from the man to look at
Tom Henry. "And you wrestled before, huh?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it wrestling, ma'am." Tom Henry said and I got the
sense he wanted us to start all over again as his brown eyes looked into
mine.

"What would you call it then?" I smiled just for him, letting him know we
were gonna be okay now.

"Uhhh...I don't rightly think there's a word for it, but it sure do hurt
some." He laughed and I giggled at him.

Our Master was smiling too and I got the sense he was finally happy. His
intention all along with Tom Henry was to have another slave around the
house, someone close to my own age, and Tom was just twenty. Someone to
keep me company when I was bored and maybe a boy like Tom Henry wasn't
exactly the best choice for that, but then again I hadn't given him much of
a chance either. It was about time to fix that and Mr. Reiser was enjoying
us together finally, just talking over dinner, because sometimes a little
friendly conversation at the table is all a man wants.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The arrangements were made and with me being just a bedroom negra on my
Master's arm, I had very little to do with such things. Behind the
plantation manor there were other buildings, serving other purposes and I
couldn't say what each was for, but the garner was a large and round
barn-like structure that had been used to store grain at one time, feed
corn for animals and such. It was quarried limestone from the foundation to
about a dozen feet or so and wood planking above that, with open air
windows and a great round shingled roof. Inside there were wooden benches,
like bleachers I suppose, set in a ring around a large dirt area in the
center. Above were great rafters and shadows as the roof vaulted away and
it was a large structure, as I said, big enough for a hundred spectators or
more easy.

Tom Henry had been given over to some men, white men with their black
assistants who would prepare him for his wrestling match. It was all
organized and I learned this was a usual occurrence for a Sunday night
during the spring and summer. In the meantime my Master and I were free to
mingle and the atmosphere in the cockfight arena, as it was called, was
rather relaxed and somewhat boisterous in the way men are before a
contest. Some of the owners there had stables of wrestlers, slaves whose
only purpose were cockfights. Others were less dedicated in their
enthusiasm and had only a few slaves who would regularly fight. Most of the
men were like Mr. Reiser, putting a slave forward for no other reason than
it was something different and interesting to do on occasion.

I spent much of the time staying close to my Master, sipping champagne and
smiling, playing the demure slut as the outfit I wore left little doubt
that I was a genuine fuck toy. I enjoyed the attention I received from
other men, other owners who had their own negras close by and those girls
and I would share a look every now and again. Usually a sympathetic smile
to express our boredom, or perhaps some amusement with the goings on around
us, and very occasionally a somewhat less than friendly stare. Some of
those girls could be catty and jealous, especially a brand new bedroom
negra who expected her owner to fawn over her like an old nigger
boyfriend. They were always a little unsure of themselves, as I'd been at
first, but they'd learn and the rest of us ignored them.

Largely we girls got along fine, however, as we understood that none of us
had any real choice in how we dressed or even acted. I knew what my Master
expected of me, what he liked, and so I behaved a certain way for him. I
was quiet and polite, holding his arm for the most part and giving myself
over to the appreciative gaze of his friends. If a man happened to speak to
me I most often replied with playful innuendo and I gave my Master no
reason to disapprove of me. I was beautiful and sexy and best of all, I was
a secret for only my Master and a few of the owners from the Magenta room
to enjoy. The majority of men at the club had no idea I was a boy beneath
that skin tight Lycra I wore and I had great fun playing my erection
against my Master's thigh as I hid the bulge in my skirt from curious and
lust-filled eyes.

"Mr. Reiser, I presume." I blinked at a woman's voice and then at the woman
herself and my Master appeared only slightly surprised before he regained
his composure.

"Hello." He smiled at her and I held his arm tightly as I always did when I
was confused.

The woman was older than me, in her late twenties or early thirties
possibly, although it was hard to tell. She was attractive, with auburn
hair and a striking face. A strong nose and chin, thin sensual lips and
dark green eyes, or hazel perhaps beneath her reddish brown hair, which was
long but pinned up neatly. She wore men's clothing tailored to her lithe
body, or perhaps they were women's clothes but intended to emulate male
fashion, I wasn't sure. It was nice though, a two piece suit in teal of all
colors that went well with her eyes. A white button down shirt beneath the
coat and a red necktie hanging loose between her somewhat undersized
breasts. It matched her lips and fingernails and on the whole it was very
effective and strangely erotic, seeing a woman dressed that way, and I knew
my Master would find it to his taste. Her body as well, being thin with
narrow hips pushed forward and those small breasts with her shoulders back,
she had a boy's posture it seemed to me, or perhaps it was just the
strength of her personality, which was quickly apparent.

"I'm Cory Ingersoll." She said holding out her hand as a man would. "I
believe your nigger is pitted against mine this evening."

"Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ingersoll." My Master shook her
hand, forcing me to release him somewhat reluctantly. "I wasn't aware we
had female guests present tonight."

"Maybe I'm not a female." She tilted her head and her smile wasn't large,
only playing at the corners of her lips, but it was seductive.

"Excuse me?" Mr. Reiser held her hand a fraction longer than I liked and I
was insinuating myself against him once more.

"Ah, Mr. Reiser, may I present my, uh, niece..." Mr. Connelly was there
suddenly, holding one of his beautiful boys close. "...Miss Corinne
Ingersoll."

"You're too late, Albert, we've already introduced ourselves." The woman
laughed lightly.

"She's visiting from Mississippi." Mr. Connelly said, pausing a waiter long
enough to retrieve two glasses of champagne, and handing one to the woman.

"Thank you." She said, accepting her glass and holding it up. "To the good
hospitality of Memphis."

"Are you staying long, Miss Ingersoll?" My Master wondered.

"Call me Cory, please." The woman smiled. "Until my uncle grows tired of
me. I'm a bit of an eccentric, I'm afraid."

"Aren't we all?" Mr. Connelly grinned, "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll
place a wager or two."

"Oh, a wager!" Cory nodded, looking at my Master. "Perhaps you'd like to
make a wager of your own? A friendly bet on our two boys?"

"What did you have in mind?" My Master smiled politely.

"Hmmm...How about your negra?" Cory looked at me for the first time that I
noticed and lowered my eyes. "I'm dying to know what she's hiding beneath
that skirt."

"Oh?" Mr. Reiser sipped his champagne and I felt my body tense around that
plug stuffed in my rectum.

"Albert loves to tease me." She giggled. "He's such a scurrilous character,
don't you think? A terrible gossip!"

"I see. I fear Mr. Connelly has been in politics too long." My Master
smiled, although I didn't understand the woman at all. "And what are you
putting up against my girl?"

"Well," Cory sighed dramatically, "Having no girl of my own, I suppose it
will have to be me."

"You?" My Master chuckled at that. "A bedroom, uh, girl?"

"I've been in a bedroom or two before, sir." She smiled and then mocked a
pout. "Oh that must seem terribly risqué, I do forget cosmopolitan custom."

"And how's that, Cory?" Mr. Reiser asked.

"Why, playing the bedroom negra, sir. It's rather popular for a white woman
where I'm from." She shrugged. "It's the awful climate, I believe; makes us
intemperate in our provincial appetites."

"Well, I hope you'll find the climate here more to your liking then."
Mr. Reiser smiled.

"Oh, I didn't say I didn't like it." She laughed. "I've never had a use for
temperance, really. So do you like my offer, Mr. Reiser?"

She was posing for him, clearly offering herself and I'd never seen a
person like this Corinne Ingersoll before in my life, my Master neither, I
believe. She was bold and beautiful and flirting in a manner I'd never
imagined possible for a white woman, especially one of some social
standing, as this woman clearly was. I didn't dislike her, but she did make
me nervous just because I didn't understand her at all.

"For the evening then?" Mr. Reiser smiled.

"Until sunrise, let's say." Cory nodded. "That's my usual bedtime."

"As a gentleman, I find your offer difficult to refuse, Miss Ingersoll."
Mr. Reiser offered his hand and the woman took it with a smile.

"Most men do, Mr. Reiser." She giggled softly. "If you'll excuse me, I
think I'll freshen up a bit before the cocks begin to fight."

"Of course." My Master gave her a small bow and I smiled up at him with
some amusement.

We watched her walk away and Cory was drawing a lot of attention, smiling
and exchanging brief words with several men as she left the garner. It
wasn't unheard of to see a white woman at the Owner's Club, but it was a
rare enough event. They were invariably guests come for a specific reason,
such as an auction or the cockfights, apparently. For the most part the
mistresses had their own club, a Sable Society as it was called, and what
went on at the Society I can only imagine, but doubtless it was similar to
the Owner's Club. I wondered why Cory hadn't gone there, but then seeing
her so plainly comfortable and enjoying herself in the company of men, it
was obvious.

"That was different." My Master smiled at me and his hand slipped behind my
back, brushing my bare skin and drifting lower to press through my skirt
and find the base of my butt plug.

"Yes sir...oh!" I went up on my tip-toes for just a moment with a tiny gasp
as he pressed the toy a fraction deeper in my ass.

"I see you've met Connelly's niece." A man said, Mr. Forsythe, who was a
business associate of my Master's, more than a friend from what I
understood.

"Yes, she's quite...Disarming." Mr. Reiser chuckled, moving his hand back
up and encircling my waist with his arm.

"That's one word for it." Mr. Forsythe grinned and he was older, like my
Master and handsome with his own negra, a delicate young woman with dark
fashion model looks who looked bored and rolled her eyes at me with a smile
I returned.

"Rather odd, Connelly bringing her around here." Another man, one I didn't
know, said.

"I heard a rumor they're trying to marry the woman off." Mr. Forsythe
said. "The woman's family sending her around the country on a little
hunting expedition."

"Heh." My Master grunted at that. "Big game hunting, no doubt."

"She's an Ingersoll." Mr. Forsythe shrugged. "She won't be marrying a man
for his money."

"She won't marry a man without it either." The other man laughed. "Her
daddy will see to that."

"It begs the question, what does the woman who has everything want in a
man?" Mr. Reiser nodded.

"Ask her." Mr. Forsythe laughed. "From what I've heard she won't be afraid
to answer."

The men laughed and nodded at that and a short time later a white man was
asking people to clear the floor, to find their seats on the wooden
benches, as the cockfights were about to begin.

We found ourselves sitting close to Mr. Connelly, near the top of the
bleachers looking down over three tiers of heads and shoulders to the
center of the garner. Mr. Reiser sat beside me on the left, Mr. Connelly's
boy, a fourteen year old faggot named Page to my right, and Mr. Connelly on
the other side of him.

"Excuse me...Pardon me, Gentlemen..." Cory was stepping up the wooden
stairs and smiling at us. "Would you mind, Mr. Reiser? Is that seat taken?"

"Of course, Miss Ingersoll, be my guest." Mr. Reiser rose and we sat back
for the woman as she slipped past our knees to the empty place on the other
side of my Master, putting him between myself and Cory.

"Thank you, sir. Oh my, this is exciting." She laughed happily and it was a
warm sound, light and airy and it drew some smiles as men turned to look at
her, but Cory seemed oblivious to it.

I was slightly disappointed at the woman's presence, but not overly so and
only because it would distract my Master's attentions from me. If she'd
been black I should have been much more unhappy, but as a white woman
Corinne posed no threat to my position as Mr. Reiser's bedroom negra. I'd
remain his mistress whatever his relationship with Miss Ingersoll. That and
the fact that I knew my Master had no real interest in real women was
something of a comfort, but if Cory was interested in Mr. Reiser, she'd
done well dressing in her mannish clothes and I wondered if she hadn't had
some small advice in the matter from her uncle.

Of course if that talk of marriage and Cory looking for a husband had been
true...I squirmed slightly as that wooden bench we sat on had never been
intended for comfort, but only practicality, and it was pressing hard upon
the butt plug lodged deep inside me.

"Are you getting a little excited too?" Miss Ingersoll leaned across
Mr. Reiser slightly, smiling at me. "There is something about a good
cockfight, isn't there?"

"Yes ma'am." I agreed politely. "This is my first."

"Is it? I do declare, your Master has been badly remiss in your
upbringing." She chided Mr. Reiser playfully. "A growing girl needs
culture, sir."

"Danielle has struggled under my tutelage, I must confess." Mr. Reiser
replied with a smile. 

I giggled at that and very much enjoyed the way they were speaking, which
seemed amused and formal all at once. I wondered if white men and women
always talked in such a fashion, because I'd never heard it before, or if
it was just a creation of Corinne's and my Master was playing along with
her. It made me slightly jealous as I realized our own conversations seemed
much more mundane by comparison and I wished I possessed something of Miss
Ingersoll's natural charm and quick wit. My Master appeared to enjoy it.

"So it is with young girls and bachelor men, I believe." Cory said. "A most
unnatural state, if you'll forgive me for saying so."

"Unnatural?" Mr. Reiser looked at her.

"Bachelorhood." Corinne nodded sincerely. "Oh, here they come. Isn't this
going to be fine!"

Two black men were being led into the garner by young girls, pretty negras
wearing little more than panties and they were inviting I suppose, but it
was the men who naturally caught our attention. They weren't overly large,
but fit and strong, and very nearly completely naked with their ebony
bodies oiled so that they gleamed beneath the dozens of bare light bulbs
hanging from the rafters. Their muscles were evident and swollen and it
seemed likely they'd been working out just immediately before entering the
ring, pumping blood into their hard flesh and I found myself immediately
aroused by the sight. Their naked cocks were semi-erect as well, with
leather harnesses fitted around their balls for support apparently and
attached to silver rings at the base of each penis. Two thin strips of
leather rode from their balls around their ass cheeks and connected at the
hips to another piece of slightly wider leather encircling their waists.

They were beautiful, I thought, and amazingly sexy although neither of the
men's faces would be considered handsome under any circumstance. Their
bodies were intoxicating however, and I felt my heart gathering speed as I
reached instinctively to press my left hand against Mr. Reiser's
trousers. His cock was hard already, like mine, and he was leaning forward
slightly and plainly enjoying the vision parading before us.

"These are just the amateurs." Cory looked at me, noting my hand with a
small smile. "They save the professionals for later."

"They're wonderful." I giggled. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Wait until they wrestle." The woman's eyes were twinkling. "And the
winner, well..." she glanced at Mr. Reiser, "...Perhaps your Master would
like to explain the rules."

"Heh." Mr. Reiser took a deep breath and he was as impressed with those two
slaves as I was, although I think he was trying not to show it in front of
Miss Ingersoll. 

"What are the rules, Master?" I asked.

I was stroking his penis through his trousers, knowing that Cory was
already well aware of Mr. Reiser's interest and undoubtedly Mr. Connelly
had informed the woman that my Master was gay. It made me wonder all the
more why she was giving so much attention to my Master and I thought
perhaps she found it entertaining, or something of a challenge maybe.

"They'll wrestle until one of them is pinned to the ground, or submits."
Mr. Reiser told me and that was obvious. "And at the end, the winner will
take the loser in some way."

"Take him?" I asked. "Take him where?"

"Not where, but how." Miss Ingersoll laughed lightly. "The winner usually
takes the loser like a girl, to humiliate the boy."

"Like a girl? You mean in the...ass?" I blinked as Cory grinned and then we
both giggled. "Oh!"

"A demonstration of dominance and submission." Mr. Reiser licked his
lips. "Or, sometimes he'll take the loser in the mouth; it all depends on
how...excited the winner is."

"And they get very excited, believe me." Cory nodded happily. "Even the
straightest man can't help getting hard during a good match; it's the
adrenaline or something, the joy of intimate struggle."

The wrestling match began finally after some minutes while the two slaves
posed for the crowd. There was a lot of betting, a lot of talking and
shouting, with the men becoming very animated as they anticipated the
battle to come. I myself just wanted to see those two men pressed against
each other, grappling as they sought to subdue each other and ultimately
take the other man's dignity for their prize. It seemed very good
incentive, considering none of those slaves were probably queer, and as
with most of Southern society I imagined there was a strong undercurrent of
homophobic fear in them.

It made me curious as to the excitement of all those men, the white owners
present and representing much of the city's real wealth, at seeing two
naked slaves wrestle each other. But Mr. Reiser informed me that it was
something of a tradition, and not a Southern one, but a tradition of
western culture dating back to the Greeks, who performed all such contests
naked. How true any of that was, I had no idea, but if it was good enough
for all those white owners, it was good enough for me anyway. I wasn't
going to argue, not while I watched those two men wrestle and I thought it
was the most exciting thing I'd ever seen in my life.

I was told that a match would go for ten minutes, if there wasn't a clear
winner before then, and be declared a draw. Miss Ingersoll assured me
though that they rarely went that long and the first match of the evening
was no exception, with one man pinning the other to the dirt after just
three or four minutes.

"Oh...Master..." I breathed as the victor, who had pinned the other man on
his stomach, didn't release his opponent.

The winner quickly straddled the other man's thighs and his cock was very
hard by then, glistening with oil and perhaps more as it slid back and
forth along the dark crevasse between the loser's ass cheeks. The crowd was
very loud too, as those who'd won their bets called eagerly for the final
act in that erotic drama. The losers moaned and booed and we all watched as
the triumphant slave asserted his dominance completely, stabbing his turgid
prick deep into his defeated opponent's asshole without mercy. The slave on
his belly lifted his head, groaning loudly as his rectum was stretched to
accommodate that large black cock and he was fucked for several minutes
without more than token and futile resistance.

I thought I might cum myself when the victor arched his back and announced
his orgasm, marking the loser with his male sperm. Doubtless the beaten
slave's ego felt the stain of that defeat every bit as much as his
submissive body. The slave on top pulled his cock free finally, still
dripping his orgasm as he stood up, breathing hard and smiling, standing
over his opponent triumphant and basking in the approval of those white
owners surrounding him. He would feel as a king, I imagined, like a Roman
gladiator and I felt an immediate and almost desperate attraction for the
man that had nothing to do with who he was, but only what he represented.

"Incredible, isn't it?" Miss Ingersoll whispered, "You feel it, don't you
girl?"

"Yes...Ma'am..." I nodded slowly.

"Are you alright?" Mr. Reiser looked at me and he was flushed himself,
feeling something as well, but different than what I was. He was a Master
and so he imagined himself taking the slave on his belly, I was a slave and
all of my thoughts were of serving the victor.

"I want to suck you." I breathed.

"Hmmm..." My Master smiled and he leaned into me, kissing my lips softly
and whispering. "Soon...Wait a little bit."

"Yes sir." I swallowed hard and what I really wanted was to be fucked. That
plug in my ass was maddening for me now, just sitting there as it did and I
needed more. My girl cock was on fire, tenting my skirt obscenely and I
kept my small purse in my lap to hide it while I fondled Mr. Reiser through
his trousers.

Whatever Miss Ingersoll thought of us, she didn't offer her opinion and I
understood her to be the source of my Master's reluctance to let me service
him right then and there. Beside me, the boy, Page, was already mouthing
Mr. Connelly, the young teen nursing eagerly on the old man's hard white
cock and nobody paid them any mind. Many of the negras present were
comforting their owners in similar fashion, and themselves also, as I
wasn't alone in my pleasure at seeing my first cockfight.

There was a certain madness to the whole thing, a dreamlike quality and I
felt drunk with it. The place was hot and smoky and smelling of men and
sweat and even the women, the negras and their juicy cunts blooming between
their legs. I was very glad just then that I'd found my wits and swallowed
my pride, asking my Master not to whip Tom Henry. The thought of missing
this experience was almost unbearable and I wished my Master had brought me
previously. I began to wonder if I couldn't convince Mr. Reiser to begin a
stable of his own, the idea of having a number of slaves at our house
dedicated to cockfighting...It was silly perhaps, and I was just an
overexcited teenage negra, but what a thought!


End of chapter 20