My place in life

My Place in Life

1

As I wiped down the sides of the large kitchen, fear crept through me as a sauce bottle dropped to its side. I snatched it immediately, trembling at the noise it may have made. Silly really, the mansion was so huge it was unlikely any noise would reverberate to her bedroom. But by now, the fear of waking her so early in the morning was such a dreadful thought. Not so much the whupping I might receive, more the thought of her being woken from her deserved rest.

Normally, Mistress Rebecca slept until around ten. It was now seven o’clock and I had been working for an hour. Black folk didn’t require as much sleep as their betters, which was fortunate as I usually wasn’t dismissed to my bed until after she had retired herself.

I hadn’t always realised the colour of my skin meant I needed so much less sleep. This had been taught to me by Mistress Rebecca, how little I had known before coming to live here. I knew now how simple I had been two years ago before I had been lucky enough to meet her.

At the time I was twenty six, already a successful Lawyer in Georgia, Atlanta. I had crossed between employment law and civil rights Atourneyment. Generally I had acted on behalf of the underdog, but my skill had earned the notice of some well to do people.

I guess that was why I wound up at a party at Governor Reynolds’s place. It had glorious surrounds, heralding from the plantation days. The inside was palatial to say the least. A hundred guests fitted easily within the ballroom, with a dozen or more servants to ensure we wanted for nothing. I wore a dinner jacket and bow tie as did many of the other guests.

I realised I was one of only three black guests, and that all the servants were black. This didn’t worry me unduly, as the circles I was moving in tended to be this way. At the time I felt things would change over the years and felt I could do a lot to help such change.

I had mingled with a few guests when someone caught my eye who would change my life forever. She was blonde, blue eyed and gorgeous. I put her at around thirty five (though I later found she was forty one). Everyone seemed so pleased to see her and why not, she was stunning. I remember thinking how perfect her teeth were and how winning was her smile.

My experience with women was limited due to my application at college and now work. However I had begun to find some success, and had had my good looks commented upon.

Watching her, I tried to catch her eye, but to no avail. Suddenly I saw my opportunity; she lifted a cigarette from her gold case and placed it between her luscious lips. Though I didn’t smoke I always carried a lighter which had been bequeathed me. It had served as a good luck charm; I hoped it would come into its own now.

Briskly I dodged the crowd around this delectable woman and offered her a light. Without looking up she allowed me to catch the end of her cigarette with the flame. She drew slowly and sexily blew a long stream of smoke towards the ceiling.

I almost caught her eye as she disdainfully looked in my direction. Her smile left her lovely face as she spoke coldly to me, ‘don’t just stand there boy, fetch me an ashtray!’ I was a little astounded at the manner in which she had spoken but the soft confident southern drawl brought out my obedient side.

I quickly approached a servant and asked him for an ashtray, as I returned with it she flicked a length of ash which I just caught with the receptacle. She carried on her conversation whilst I stood there humbly holding the ashtray for her use.

As used to I was at talking for a living I became incredibly tongue tied. This beauty was the centre of the conversation she was in. none of them took any notice of me, especially not her; she didn’t even look at me as she deposited ash into the tray I held. As a maid walked past she snapped her fingers at her. The girl curtsied and the blonde ordered, ‘fetch me another glass of champagne!’ Curtsying again the black girl dashed to get a fresh glass of champagne.

On her return, the girl offered the glass on a silver tray. The blonde took the glass without even looking at the servant; she took a feminine sip and replaced it on the tray. The girl simply stood there holding the tray up for this beautiful guest.

As she reached over to stub out her used cigarette in the ashtray I held I noticed how elegant her manicured hand was adorned with expensive jewellery. As she did so, the Governor’s wife approached her, ‘Rebecca, I see you have met Martin?’

The hostess was referring to me so I smiled at ‘Rebecca’ who looked at me and informed her friend, ‘oh I presumed he was a servant.’

I thought she was going to apologise and was about to be magnamanous when she declared with a shrug, ‘well it’s a mistake anyone would have made.’

Our hostess looked a little embarrassed and explained, ‘Martin is one of Atlanta’s finest Lawyers Rebecca.’

Rebecca looked at me and gave a little ‘hmmph’. I was about to speak when she looked into my eyes and ordered, ‘go and clean that ashtray out boy! And fetch it back here!’

I was shocked, having just been informed that I was actually a fellow guest; Rebecca still chose to treat me like a servant. Somehow, though, the deep attraction I felt towards her made me swallow my resentment and pride. I took the ashtray to a waste bin in the corner and cleaned it out; I even polished it with my handkerchief before returning to this most magnetic woman.

Ironically they were discussing servants when I arrived at Rebecca’s side. Her friend was suggesting, ‘I prefer Mexican or even Puerto Ricans, they’re very hard workers and need the bare minimum of food and sleep.’

I was about to interject that they may well prefer more of both than they were given, when Rebecca spoke with a smile, ‘no, no, give me a nigger anytime!’

I was shocked at her use of the word. I hadn’t heard it used in public for a couple of years, and then only by rednecks or rowdy youths. Never had I witnessed such a well to do Lady utter such a word.

She went on; ‘of course they’re dumb, but with the right training and guidance they can be so obedient. Why, they were born to it after all.’

I shamefully looked at the girl who stood holding the tray for Rebecca. There was no reaction from her, she just stood there with her eyes downcast.

Rebecca continued, ‘and it’s such a sought after position for these people,’ she waved her hand in the servant girl’s direction, ‘I’m sure this girl’s parents are so proud of her finding herself in service to her betters.’

Nobody asked the girl if she agreed, and she certainly wasn’t going to interject. I was trying to force myself away from the allure, yet contemptible views of this woman but my legs seemed to freeze.

She took out another cigarette and placed it between her luscious lips. Almost involuntarily I leant to light it for her, even giving a little bow as I did so. She accepted the light without acknowledging me in any way. Again she used me as an ashtray holder.

I tried not to ogle her but everything she did was so feminine, so sexy. As she talked, she would occasionally smile or even laugh, showing perfect white teeth. She sipped her wine with such elegance, I felt myself becoming erect. I even enjoyed watching her smoke, wrapping those lips around the long white cigarette before leisurely releasing creamy smoke into the air.

All this, added to her southern drawl kept me mesmerised. When she had finished her cigarette she again extinguished it into the ashtray I was humbly holding. This time she dismissed me to clean it by giving a languid wave of her hand. An incredible thing then occurred, the power in my legs instantly returned and I was able to obey by scurrying off to empty and clean the ashtray.

I returned and stood by her side, despite her abhorrent views and comments I was determined to connect with her on some level so bided my time. In the half hour I waited there she didn’t speak to me once. She also didn’t have another cigarette which left me somewhat redundant. She even dismissed the maid who had stood patiently on the other side of her.

Finally she began to say her goodbyes to those around her. I knew it was now or never so slipped a business card from my wallet. I tried to pluck up the courage to speak but found it impossible.

Fortunately she seemed to read my mind and spoke for me; ‘I presume you’re hoping to see me again boy.’

I nodded like a bashful schoolboy before she plucked the card from me. She glanced at it and smiled to herself. ‘Go fetch my coat boy!’ she ordered.

I quickly went to the cloakroom and explained whose jacket I was seeking. Although it was late spring the coat turned out to be a sable fur. I calculated the cost of such a coat would exceed the annual salary of the dozen servants who worked in this house. A few hours before, such a thought would have riled me, now I felt privileged to be fetching it for such a divine lady.

As I approached her she was kissing the governor farewell. How I envied this man, not his wealth, not his position, but to have been the recipient of that slight kiss. I held the coat for a few minutes while she said some more goodbyes and then she turned her back on me and extended an arm. I carefully helped her into the fur and she turned to face me.

She took out a cigarette and placed it between her lips. Naturally I reached and lit it for her before she spoke, ‘now then, will I be seeing you again?’

‘I-I hope so,’ I managed to stammer.

She smiled, ‘well, you’re going to stay behind and help the other niggers clear this place up. I shall get a report on your work and if it is good, who knows.’

I hadn’t expected that, not at all. But I was desperate to see her again so nodded humbly.

She took an expansive drag on her cigarette and looked at me coldly. She then calmly blew her smoke into my face and pronounced, ‘work well boy!’ And then she turned and left.

For the next four hours I worked alongside the servants in clearing and cleaning the large hall. Firstly all glasses and dishes were taken to the kitchen, then I was given a mop to clean the floor. I hadn’t done work of this nature since I was a boy. Even my own house was taken care of by a woman who called daily.

There were no guests around now; in fact the hosts had retired elsewhere. However I worked to the best of my ability. I couldn’t be sure if and how Rebecca was going to check up on me, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. Finally the butler instructed me to help polish the floor. Six of us got down on our knees and put a shine on the lovely floor.

2

That evening I sat alone at home thinking of one thing and one thing only, her. I looked her up on my pc; it took a while as I only knew her first name. But eventually I found her, Rebecca Hudson. She was often seen at society events and she was very rich, seriously wealthy. There wasn’t much else apart from a photo of her at a wedding.

I cropped the photo to just her and enlarged it. It was slightly blurred but she was beautiful. I sat there staring at the picture on my screen for three hours or more. When I went to bed I couldn’t sleep. I just lay there thinking about her and sweating.

The following day I was representing a man suing for wrongful dismissal. I had read the case file a few days earlier and thought it was going to be quite easy. However, when the case came to court I had no concentration whatsoever. I was tired, but that wasn’t it. I just couldn’t stop thinking about Rebecca Hudson.

When the case was over the complaint ant lost. It was the first case I’d lost in six months. I spoke to him afterwards and told him I wouldn’t be charging him. He sat there and began to cry. He told me he had five children and had no idea how he was going to support them. I felt awful but even whilst looking at this once proud man crying, my thoughts drifted to her.

That night I finally got some sleep, but not much. Inevitably I dreamt of her. Part of the dream was wonderful, I was holding her in my arms and tenderly kissing her. It then turned a little strange; I was with others in a field picking cotton. She was sitting under a dias watching us labour, laughing everytime the overseer whipped one of us. I woke up in a terrible sweat and lay there the rest of the night, wondering why I was so attracted to this woman.

The next two weeks were the same. I thought of her constantly, had a series of  weird dreams about her, and began to worry that she’d never call me.

My work continued to suffer. I was scraping cases I should have easily won and losing cases which were there to be won. I was called in by my senior partner who tried to get to the bottom of the problem. Of course I couldn’t tell him, I just said I was having difficulty sleeping.

Another two weeks passed and still no word from Rebecca. I’d started to give up hope, but the need to see her was stronger than ever. I employed the services of a private investigator who found me her address in no time.

At first I thought I would go to her, or at least write a letter. But then I thought she might not like that, and I couldn’t bear to blow my chance with an impetuous act. By now I’d suspended myself from work. I hated the thought of losing just cases because of my inability to concentrate.

I just sat around the house thinking of her, wondering if she gave any thought to me, but presuming she didn’t. It was after five weeks that I finally got the phone call I’d been praying for. Her smooth, glorious southern drawl spoke into my ear, ‘you will call at my house next Tuesday at noon! I presume you already know where that is boy!’

Before I could answer she hung up. Oh what joy I felt at that moment, I would be seeing her at last. A brief look at the calendar told me I had six days to wait. I glanced at a mirror and wondered should I try to lose a bit of weight? No, should I try and put a little on? Should I get a hair cut? Of course I didn’t know but I was about a hundred times more excited than I had been on my first teenage date.

The next six days went even slower than the previous five weeks, but I was much happier. I’d neglected to call my senior partner; in fact the only person I’d seen was my sister. I hadn’t gone into detail about Rebecca; I just told her I was totally smitten and waiting to see the object of my desire. She was pleased and I asked her for advice on clothes and aftershave and all.

After she’d left I worried a bit about what she would have thought about Rebecca’s attitude towards black folk. But I shrugged it off; all I wanted was for Tuesday to come round.

3

I arrived at the address the PI had given me at eight in the morning. I knew it was ridiculous to get there so early but I couldn’t help myself. I looked up in awe at the huge mansion, I hadn’t thought of her being quite that wealthy. I paid the taxi and walked away from the house, but kept looking back where I noticed a black servant girl scrubbing the stairs on her hands and knees.

I walked into town and ordered a breakfast at a diner. The place was fairly low key and I appeared out of place with my black silk suit. When the breakfast arrived, bacon eggs and grits, I played with it rather than eat it. I did drink three cups of coffee though, never letting my eyes stray too far from my watch. It was only nine thirty, so I went for a walk.

I bought flowers and candy, my sister had strongly advised against anything too extravagant for a first ‘date’. I then wandered around until finally it was eleven thirty, so I began walking towards the mansion.

I arrived with ten minutes to spare, so stood far enough away so as not to appear conspicuous. By now my pulse was racing and my heart pounding. I took a few deep breaths and with two minutes to go I walked towards the gleaming steps which led to the front door.

I rang the bell and took a step backwards. I waited a minute before the door was opened, a black butler looked at me and scowled, ‘servant’s entrance’ he said pointing to the left and closing the door.

I hurried down to the basement, scared now that I’d be deemed late. I knocked on the door and after what seemed like an age the same butler opened it. ‘I-I’m Martin Reynolds,’ I muttered.

‘Mistress be expecting you!’ he announced letting me in. ‘Wait dere.’

I stood in what I presumed was the servant’s day room. After twenty minutes my nerves were racing and incredibly I even thought to go. It was then the butler returned, he waved his grey haired head and pronounced, ‘dis way.’

I followed him through the huge hallway, inside the front door I saw a big muscular negro lying on his stomach, he was naked accept for a white loincloth. Eventually we arrived at the dayroom. The butler went in first and I heard him announce, ‘the new nigger be here Mistress.’

I gasped as I heard him use that word, but once I heard the soothing tones of Rebecca I was placated, ‘very well Jon show him in, and fetch me some tea!’

‘Jon’ appeared at the door, ‘in you go,’ he directed.

I nervously entered the room and was bombarded with its luxury. Beautifully decorated, with golden chandeliers. Priceless paintings on the wall, sumptuous leather furniture and thick expensive carpet. Then my eyes fixed on the most beautiful thing in the room, her.

She was sitting, almost laying on a huge leather recliner. At her feet knelt a little black maid, carefully administrating a pedicure. Rebecca looked even more beautiful than I had remembered her, her golden hair shined and her lips were glossed to perfection. As I looked into her powerful blue eyes I couldn’t help but tremble.

She looked at me and smiled, revealing those perfect teeth, I honestly think at that moment I would have given my life just to kiss her. ‘So,’ she said, ‘Martin Reynolds.’

I nodded, unable to speak.

Rebecca continued, ‘my Grandmother’s maiden name was Reynolds, I presume you appreciate what that means?’

I shook my head, frightened that this was some kind of test I was failing.

‘It means, boy, my ancestors probably owned your ancestors.’

I took this in; she was probably right so I nodded my head.

‘But I don’t want you to think that gives you some sort of birthright to be my slave!’

I didn’t know where this was going but shook my head anyway.

‘That’s a right you’ll have to earn.’

This really confused me; slavery had been abolished for a hundred and fifty years, why would she bring that up.

‘The Governor told me you worked well at his house. So I thought I might give you a try.’

I gulped, still not knowing what I was getting myself into, I couldn’t resist.

‘We’ll see how you get on for a few days, and then I’ll make my decision. Of course there are a few ground rules even for your trial period.’

I nodded my head, happy I’d made it this far. Jon re-entered the room with tea on a silver tray. He placed it on the table next to Rebecca and on a nod from her, filled a bone china cup. Saying nothing she took an elegant sip and smiled. She clicked her fingers and pointed to a gold cigarette case. Jon carefully opened it and she slipped a long white cigarette between her lovely fingers and then between her gorgeous lips. The butler bowed as he lit it for her and exhaling smoke towards him she dismissed him with a little wave of her hand.

He bowed and left, Rebecca looked at me once more. She dragged casually on her cigarette and blew a long stream of smoke towards me. The animation this caused her delectable lips produced a hard erection between my legs.

‘First rule,’ she stated, ‘you don’t look me in the eye. If I’m speaking to you, you look at the ground by my feet!’

I obeyed immediately, though it was a strain to tear my eyes from her face, even her feet were sublimely attractive. Strangely enough I thought I recognised the girl who was now painting her toenails a dark red. However I didn’t concentrate for long as I’d decided Rebecca’s feet were more attractive than any other woman’s face.

As I stood there tobacco smoke delicately appeared before me. I’d always disliked the smell of it before, but to think this had been inside her lovely mouth made me yearn to see it, yearn to smell it.

‘Rule two,’ she pronounced, ‘you’re not to wear fancy silk suits in my presence. Strip off!’

I did as I was told, going as far as my underwear, though I was conscious of my bulging erection. Whether she noticed or not, I didn’t know, but she did say, ‘all of your clothes!’

There was an impatient tone to her lovely voice so I stripped off my shorts and socks immediately. I stood there as naked as the day I was born with my manhood jutting out at a right angle to my flat belly.

She gave a dry laugh and commented, ‘my, you niggers all get so excited in the presence of your betters don’t you?’

I stood there embarrassed before she raised her voice, ‘didn’t you hear me nigger? I asked you a question!’

‘Yes,’ I managed quietly.

‘Yes what?’

I wasn’t sure how to address her so I followed Jon’s example, ‘yes Mistress.’

‘No. You haven’t earned the right to call me Mistress. Yet.  For now you may call me Ma’am!’

‘Yes Ma’am.’

‘Other rules, you do whatever I tell you to do, and you do it without question. And obviously I can do whatever I want to do to you.’

‘Yes Ma’am,’ I managed though a trifle worried now.

‘If I dismiss you, you’ll leave that instant. I have guard dogs to encourage haste. You’ll eat what your given, no complaints, no complaints about anything actually.’

‘Yes Ma’am.’

‘And, you may leave anytime you wish. All you have to do is ask to see me in person; you’ll look me in the eye and tell me you want to leave. Of course if you change your mind at the last minute, you may stay but you’ll get a sound whipping.’

‘Yes Ma’am.’

‘Any attempt to leave without speaking to me will be considered an attempted escape. You will be caught and punished suitably.’

‘Yes Ma’am.’ I was becoming frightened now, but couldn’t walk away, not yet anyway. I kept my eyes on her pretty feet; the maid was now carefully blowing them dry. I still couldn’t recall where I’d seen the girl before.

‘Oh, and I can’t abide a dirty ashtray,’ announced her Mistress. ‘If I ever flick ash into one with a cigarette end already in it, every nigger in this house receives forty one lashes of the whip.’

I nodded and realised she had extinguished her cigarette in the ashtray by her side. Gesturing towards it I nervously uttered, ‘er may I Ma’am?’

‘Well it’s not going to empty itself is it?’

‘No Ma’am,’ I agreed. Not sure where to empty it I headed out of the room and into the kitchen. Here another maid was preparing lunch, so I asked here where to dispose of the waste and she showed me where the bin was. She made no comment about the fact I was naked and erect. I cleaned the ashtray and hurried back to Rebecca.

Keeping my head bowed I replaced it by her side. ‘Another thing,’ she announced, ‘you don’t turn your back on me boy.’

I was crestfallen, I’d been in such a hurry to clean out the ashtray I’d done just that, ‘I’m sorry Ma’am.’

‘Its ok,’ she answered pleasantly, ‘I don’t expect you to know everything at once, that’s what the trial week is for. I’m not a sadist; I rarely have a nigger flogged during trial week.’ I realised how kind she truly was, and how lucky I was to be here.

She then gave her toenails a cursory glance. She shoved the little maid with her foot and told her ‘you may go Milly’. Milly quickly gathered up the pedicure equipment and backed out of the room, stopping to curtsy three times before she reached the door.

A few moments later Jon re-entered the room. ‘Yez Mistress?’ he asked.

‘Ah, Jon, take this nigger and put him in some indoor clothes, white shirt, black trousers and black bow tie. He’ll be sleeping on the kitchen floor this week, show him where he can shower.’

‘Yez Mistress.’

‘Oh and Martin’s no good, do I have any Sams at the moment?’

‘Yez Mistress, one o’ de garden niggers be called Sam.’

‘Hmm, Tom?’

‘No Mistress, ain’t been no Toms for a while now.’

‘Very well. Take Tom and dress him, he can wash the lunch dishes then attend me later.’

As I left with the butler I felt more confused than ever. Tom? Why on earth would she want to change my name? I still didn’t know what she’d brought me here to do, but I knew I desired her more than ever.

Jon showed me where to shower, it was small and dark, completely at odds with the house in main. The water was cold but invigorating and I soaped and cleaned myself despite shivering.

When I got out, Jon handed me a small rough towel and said, ‘yo’s cothes be dere on da side.’

I dried myself off and donned the shirt trousers and tie. On direction I cleaned the pots and pans used to prepare Ma’am’s lunch. Jon came into the kitchen and took away the lunch which appeared to be a beautifully prepared poached salmon meal. I asked the cook why she seemed so on edge.

‘I just hopes da meal is satisfactory for such a fine and kind Lady as da Mistress, is all.’

I had no doubt of her fineness but asked, ‘kind?’

‘Fo sure, she be da kindest Lady on earth. Just last week I brokes a plate right here in dis kitchen and she let me off wid’ a whippin’. I was scared she’d have me moved from da kitchen but no, just a few lashes.’

‘I see,’ I answered, not convinced that a Lady who’d have another woman whipped was so kind.

I was also beginning to wonder why both the servants I had heard speaking, did so in caricature way, as if they had bit parts in an old plantation based movie. I was just about to enquire when the cook asked me; ‘what fo’ yo talks funny, likes yo was mimickin’ a white man. Mistress don’t like no mimickin’’.

I was somewhat taken aback by this but said nothing. In time Jon returned to the kitchen smiling broadly, ‘I t’ink she be happy Hannah. Least she never said udderwise.’

‘Praise da Lord!’ cried the cook.

Taking in her sheer delight I had to ask her, ‘was you fearing another whipping if she hadn’t liked it?’

She looked puzzled, ‘never crossed my mind. If Mistress wants me whupped dat be her business not mine. I just be happy such a fine Lady get da lunch she deserve.’

A while later Jon brought the lunch dishes in. On the dinner plate was the skin from the salmon, some veg and a couple of boiled potatoes. He carefully scraped these scraps onto a clean but chipped plate and added two slices of bread and butter which had also been left. He instructed me to wash the rest of the dishes, but put this plate in the fridge.

When he had gone I continued to work but asked Hannah about the plate of leftovers.

‘Dey be fo’ Ginny. She be Mistress’s favoured one at de’ moment.’

Surprised I asked, ‘so what do the rest of you eat?’

‘We eats fine,’ she answered, ‘mainly corn an’ wheat, but wid veg peel and sometimes even leftovers if Mistress has a party.’ She smiled at this but frowned when she added, ‘course, if Mistress be displeased we don’t eat nothin’. So don’t be displeasin’ Her!’

I shook my head earnestly and finished drying the dishes. Presently Jon returned, ‘time for yo’ to wait on de Mistress Tom!’ he announced.

As we walked towards the lounge he explained to me that I should keep my head bowed at all times. However I should strain to keep her right hand in view. If she wiggled her fingers in the general direction of her glass I was to pour a small measure of brandy into it. But I must take care not to let the canter touch her glass. And if she clicked her fingers, she required a cigarette. The only time I was allowed to raise my eyes towards her face was when lighting her cigarette.

We entered the room together, Jon motioned for me to stand about six yards away from Mistress, out of her eyeline. I did so and stood to attention with my head bowed. ‘Mistress?’ asked Jon respectfully.

‘You may go Jon, but send Ginny to me!’

Jon bowed and answered, ‘yes Mistress,’ before departing.

Mistress was sitting languidly on her leather couch now, she didn’t acknowledge me so I just stood still. Her glass was empty, apparently unused up to now.

After a few minutes, the most beautiful black girl I had ever seen quietly entered the room. She was very small but perfectly formed. She was naked and had had oil rubbed into her skin to make it shine.

I jumped a little when I heard and saw Mistress snap her fingers, but she was indicating to the girl to kneel by her feet. ‘Fetch that pouffe here Tom!’ she ordered me without looking up.

I quickly moved a large leather pouffe to her and she dismissed me with a wave of her hand, so I returned to my position. ‘Take off my shoes Ginny!’ she instructed the girl who gently removed the expensive footwear. Mistress then placed her feet on the pouffe and uttered, ‘yes girl.’

Ginny crawled to position and began to gently lick the lovely feet of her owner. I was easily able to watch this from my bowed position and felt envious of the girl. Mistress’s freshly pedicured feet were truly a thing of flawless beauty.

The girl seemed to enjoy her task, and the sighs from Mistress indicated she was enjoying it too. So was I, in fact I nearly missed Mistress wiggle her delectable fingers in the direction of her glass. Fortunately I just caught it and poured her a small almanac from the crystal canter. She took the glass and sipped, before relaxing to enjoy Ginny’s ministrations.

The girl licked and licked and I could sense she would go on licking until told to stop. Mistress clicked her fingers in my direction and I hurried to offer her a cigarette. As I lit it for her I took the coy opportunity to view her exquisite face. As she drew on the cigarette her impeccable glossed lips pouted provocatively. Trembling, I respectfully lowered my eyes but just caught her slowly exhaling a long stream of creamy smoke into the air. She then slightly lifted the manicured little finger of the hand which held her long white cigarette, which I took as a dismissal.

Again I stood to attention as Mistress enjoyed her relaxation. She used a remote to turn on her television, a large lcd. At first she watched CNN, but when an item came on where Senator Obama was championing the poor people of America she gave a little hmmphh, and switched over to ESPN. They were showing a boxing match from the weekend, where two black boxers were fighting each other for the amusement of a largely white crowd.

I could sense she enjoyed this as I watched her grind her foot into Ginny’s face. The girl did not complain, she merely doubled her efforts to go on licking. As the boxing match neared it’s climax, Mistress chuckled as one man beat the other badly in a corner. She gave a disapproving sigh when the referee stopped the contest and switched the tv off when the interview with the winner began.

A few minutes later the telephone rang. It was right next to her but rather than pick it up she clicked her fingers at me. I picked up the receiver and nervously held it in place so that she could speak and listen. ‘Oh hello Kathryn, sweet of you to call.’ she replied. ‘No it’s a good time, I have no-one to talk to at the moment it’d just me and the niggers here.’… ‘Yes Ginny’s here, that was so clever of you to find her for me, she’s shaping up into a useful piece of meat.’

The conversation carried on, of which I could only hear one side, until Mistress clicked her fingers for a cigarette. I performed the task, careful not to touch her face with the telephone. ‘I hope you can make it tomorrow night,’ she continued, ‘the singing girl is going to perform and it’ll be such fun.’…. ‘well, Ginny’s giving me a delightful foot rub at the moment, I think perhaps I’ll take her upstairs and enjoy her some more.’ With this she laughed and finished by saying, ‘goodbye Kathryn, and please try to make it.’

Mistress casually handed me the receiver and pressed a button. Within a minute Jon returned and bowed. ‘Jon,’ declared his Mistress, ‘Take Ginny to my second room and chain her to the bed!’

‘Yez’m Mistress,’ replied Jon with another bow and led the girl away.

Mistress wiggled her lovely fingers by her glass and I dutifully replenished it. Though my head was bowed I was aware she was looking at her bare feet, adrenalin rushed through me as I thought she was going to have me attend them, but no, ‘Tom, go fetch me a maid, and be quick about it!’

I rushed around the house until I found Milly in the kitchen, I told her she was required and she hurried with me to the lounge.

Mistress coolly ordered her, ‘put my shoes on nigger!’

The girl knelt and carefully replaced the footwear, again I wondered where I knew her from. Rebecca gracefully rose and sauntered out of the room and presumably to the waiting Ginny.

Not having been dismissed I remained standing to attention in the corner of the room. Milly remained kneeling on the floor. Looking at her I realised she much resembled the soul singer ‘Riva Hastle’, but no, why would a superstar like that be here?

I stood to attention for the next three hours, as Milly remained on her knees beside the couch I remained at high protocol and in silence.

When Mistress returned she was dressed in a blue silk dressing gown. Behind her crawled the naked form of Ginny, I noticed she had a look of shame on her pretty face.

Mistress dismissed Milly and clicked her fingers at me for a cigarette. As I lit it for her I noticed she had a radiant look about her. If it was possible, she was even more beautiful. ‘Fetch me champagne Tom!’ she ordered and I complied as quickly as I could. When I returned she was relaxing with her feet rested on Ginny’s kneeling figure.

That evening, Mistress went out to dine. I was given the task of shining her shoes and boots. They all seemed quite clean to me but I still put everything into making them gleam. It was a labour of love for me, such a beautiful woman was entitled to sparkling footwear and it was an honour to provide that for her.

At around one am all the household servants were lined up outside to greet her home. We were of course dressed in uniform and stood along her staircase with our heads bowed.

All in all there were about fourteen of us and we waited for around an hour. When her chauffer driven limousine pulled up, the great one got out and walked past us without a glance.

She went straight to bed and then most of us were told we may retire. I snuggled up beneath a rough blanket on the kitchen floor. I was so tired I soon fell asleep, but dreamed of the beautiful Mistress who I was now in service to.

To be continued?