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Homeowners Association

Part 1


Master had told me we were moving into a new house out past the edge of town.  But Master hadn't shown it to me, and hadn't gotten my approval of it.  I had been given papers to sign to consent to the sale of the home Master and i had bought together fourteen years ago, when Master and i were newly married.  But now i've been the abject slave of my Lord Husband and Master ("Master" for short, and no, I'm not allowed to use pronouns in my speech, writing or thought to refer to Master) for the last nine years, and whatever the banks or the law may say, I no longer have a voice in such matters.

Master bought the new house without me, and without considering my income.  It's entirely in Master's name.  Master's three children have all been promised their own bedrooms, so the boys are excited to get away from each other.  As part of the move, i had given notice and quit my job.

i had been warned that things are going to be both more intense for me, and also easier.  I admit to having had some trepidation, but Master had refused to explain further.

So when we pulled up in the U-Haul truck with our belongings on that Saturday morning, it seemed like an ordinary (if small) residential subdivision in rural Texas.  i could see immediately that this was a new development:  vacant lots and houses under construction were interspersed liberally with the houses.  Teenagers played basketball in front of driveway hoops, smaller children rode their bikes up and down the sidewalks.

i only glimpsed it, and couldn't see it again when i turned for a better look, but i thought i saw a woman mowing a lawn in the nude.

my Lord Husband and Master backed the truck into the driveway, while Master's oldest son parked the car, carrying his brother and sister, in the street in front of the house.  Master unlocked the door, and called us all inside.

The furniture had been moved professionally the day before.  Master had been here to direct its placement.  Master had brought us with the household goods.  The day promised to be a long day of unloading and unpacking boxes.

But first, Master directed us all to sit on the chairs and sofas in the new living room.  Or so i thought.  Just as i sat down, Master snapped his fingers at me, and signaled me to kneel on the carpeted floor.  i quickly obeyed.

"Kids," he began, "I've told you what to expect in our new home, but I haven't told My favorite chattel what I've gotten her into."

"My favorite chattel" is one of Master's nicknames for me.  Master has many others.  (And yes, i'm allowed to use pronouns for Master when i'm quoting Master doing it.)  And each of the children was sat down at the time they turned ten years old, and had the nature of my relationship with their father explained to them, along with the more traditional "birds and bees" discussion.

"Justin, as an 18-year-old, you'll now have authority over any female you meet in the community who's past her 16th birthday.  This includes disciplining her for breaking the rules of the community.  But you can't have sex with a girl unless she's over 18, and then only with her owner's permission."

"Dad," Justin interrupted, "does that include your slave?"

I've been Justin's stepmother since he was six, and we had a great relationship for ten years.  But about the time he turned sixteen, he stopped talking to me almost entirely, and when he spoke about me to his father or his siblings, I was always just "the slave."

"Yes it does," Master answered, "and in her case, that will also include disciplining her for infractions of the posted rules of the household, as well as the community rules."

i swallowed hard and looked at Master, this was something new.  Master hadn't discussed this with me, and i wasn't entirely comfortable with it.

"Janet," Master continued, "you're going to be sixteen soon, and according to the Homeowners Association rules, you will soon have to sign the documents acknowledging me as your owner, as well as your father, and giving me authority to choose your master when you come of age.  In the meantime, after you turn sixteen, you'll be expected to toe the line on the community rules, and you'll have every boy your age or older eagerly looking for the chance to discipline you for breaking one.  You'll also be expected to obey them, within the limits set down by the community."

"Yes, sir," she answered him, grinning.

"You've seen all these rules, and agreed already, or else we wouldn't have moved here.  Are you sure you're still up for this?  Because if I have to re-load all those boxes…"

She laughed.  "I'm committed, Daddy," she told him.  "I can't wait to turn sixteen."

Janet and i have been together for longer than she can remember.  And for the last few years, she's been fascinated by my relationship with her Father.  When Master has punished me, she's always been very curious about why, and how it made me feel.  She's grilled me about obedience, humiliation, nudity, bondage, and every topic under the sun.  Master has always required me to be honest with all his children, and so i've given her the best answers i could.

Master turned to his youngest son.

"Jason," he began, "being only fourteen may be a bit frustrating for you at first.  But while you won't get to flaunt your authority as a man for a while yet, there will be training exercises designed to let you practice being in charge, and how to take responsibility.  In the meantime, you'll have some authority to direct this slave here, at least."

"I'm looking forward to it, Dad," he said.

i was almost Jason's surrogate mother.  His own mother had died of complications shortly after his birth; he had never known her.  Master had brought me into the household when he was still a baby.  i hated to see him on a diet of strictly formula, so i drank the teas and took the vitamins, and used the pumps until i'd started lactating, and i breast-fed him myself.  We'd always been very close, but lately, he'd begun trying to give me orders, like his father did.  i had discussed this with Master, and he'd told Jason to stop it.  But evidently, that was going to change.

my Lord Husband and Master crouched down to look me in the eyes.  He held my hands.  "My lovely chattel wife," he began.  "What do you think I've brought you to?"

"my Lord Husband," i said, "i think you've brought me to a new community in which i will be even more your slave, and will also answer to your sons, and the other men of the community as well.  i expect that the challenges of fulfilling all the new demands on me will be difficult, but it appears that I no longer have to worry about discretion, or keeping the nature of our relationship private."

Master kissed my hand.  "You have it exactly," Master told me.  "Here I will be able to show you off, take pride in what a good slave I've made you into, and make you even more pleasing to me."

"Master, may I ask…?"

"You may."

"i gather that i will have new rules to follow.  When will i learn them, and when will they take effect?"

"That is our next order of business.  you will find the household rules and the community rules posted on the refrigerator in the kitchen.  I expect all of you to fulfill your roles according to those rules.  Go and look at them now."

i stood and walked into the kitchen, where I found the rules posted, as Master had said.

The community rules were lengthy, but the rules for women were simple.  Women could not be the head of a household in the community, nor serve on the Homeowners Association board.  Women were forbidden from wearing clothing in the community without their owners' permission.  When permitted by their owners to wear clothing, they could not wear pants in public, but only dresses or skirts, and no panties unless they were menstruating.  Women must obey any man they meet in the community, unless that obedience would contradict their owners' instructions.  (I noticed that mothers attending small children were allowed to refuse if obeying would compromise caring for their children.)  Women were forbidden from sexual activity of all kinds except with their owners' explicit permission.  Unmarried women were to be considered the property of their nearest adult male relative, unless documented otherwise.

I noted that women were defined as females over the age of 16, for all purposes except consenting to sexual relationships.  Men were defined as males over the age of 16, with the same exception.  (Children [those under sixteen] were subject to the same dress standards as anywhere else in America.)

So any sixteen-year-old boy could stop me on the street and order me around, and even discipline me if I did something against the rules.  I wasn't sure if that was exciting, frightening, or disgusting.

And soon, Janet would be in the same boat.

The household rules included some familiar rules, such as that I always have the right to ask for clarification of instructions.  But there were surprises, as well.

Jason appeared beside me.  "you'll notice that you have to call me 'sir', and you need my permission to use the bathroom, anytime I'm here and awake."

"Yes sir," I replied, "or your brother's permission."

"you have to ask me first."

i looked again.  If i wanted to use the bathroom, i would have to ask Jason's permission.  If he told me no, i'd have to wait half an hour before i could ask Justin.  If Justin said no, i'd have to wait another half an hour before asking Jason again.  Not until i'd been refused twice by both of them, and then waited another half hour, could i ask my Master.  i resolved to start early.

"i apologize for correcting you, sir.  Of course i was mistaken.  Please forgive me."  Jason could punish me now, and i wasn't quite ready for it to start that minute.

i noticed a rule that required me to crawl from room to room in the house unless i had to carry something that made crawling impractical.  i also had to ask permission to leave any room that either Master or one of His sons was in.

i saw that punishments to be meted out for violations included whipping with a riding crop, days of only bread and water to eat, or for minor violations, denial of furniture use.  i also saw that Justin had been given authority to impose all of these, and Jason had been empowered to impose the latter two.

i realized that i was still dressed from the drive.  i considered asking permission to remain dressed, but realized that my jeans and t-shirt would never pass muster.

"May i leave the room, please, sir?" i asked Jason.

"I guess so," he said.

i dropped to my hands and knees and crawled back to where my Master was still waiting in the living room.

"Shall i undress now, sir?" i asked.

"Stand up," Master told me.  i obeyed, as he tugged on the ring through my septum to guide me to my feet.

Master put his hands in the neckband of my t-shirt, and ripped it open down the front.  i shrugged out of it, and unhooked my bra and took that of as well, freeing my large teats.  Master tugged on my nipple rings, twisting them each a little.

Master gestured for me to take off my jeans.  i kicked off my sneakers and hauled down my jeans.  As i straightened up again, with a swift jerk Master ripped my panties off me.

Master jingled the rings through my labia, and traced the length of chain tattooed on my shaved pubis.  Then Master turned me around and bent me over to admire the "S" tattoo on my left buttock, and Master's signature tattooed just above my right buttock.  Master gave my ass a playful slap and brought me upright again, and turned me around.

i had no idea how long it would be until i would be allowed to dress again.



It soon began to seem as if my wardrobe consisted almost entirely of spray-on sunscreen.  i quickly learned to keep a can handy near every door.

i was particularly glad of my foresight the day that Justin had me spend an hour crawling around the perimeter of our back yard in the sun.  He followed me the entire way, using the riding crop on my ass periodically to keep me motivated.  When we came in, i had to clean the dust off his boots with my tongue before he'd let me drink any water -- and then it was from a bowl on the floor.

But when i thanked him for that water it was with the most sincere gratitude i had ever felt.

Jason took to linking the rings in my ears, nose, nipples and labia with a network of chains, so that i jingled slightly when i crawled around the house.  He had once tried leashing me to the couch by my nose ring with my hands tied behind me, as he sat playing video games.  He said it would be all day.  But when lunchtime rolled around and he was faced with the choice of releasing me and sending me to make his lunch, or else keeping me bound and stopping his game as he made his own, his game won out.  When i came back with the sandwich, chips and soda he'd ordered me to get him, he dismissed me.  i opted not to suggest to him what Master had done with me on several such occasions:  put me on hands and knees and used me as a table to eat his lunch from.

i also quickly learned that there was a practice in the neighborhood called "the promenade," in which men would take their female property, collared and leashed, for walks up and down the streets of the subdivision.  The entire circuit was about an hour's walk, and the hours of the promenade were from 4:30 to 6:30 in the afternoon, so men started at different times.  Those not walking often chose this time to sit on their front porches or work in their front yards, the better to admire the parade of cunts going by.

A small, family-run grocery store in the neighborhood provided convenient food, and i shopped there daily, walking the short distance in the nude.  Rather than have me dress, Master or Justin would do larger grocery runs into town.  It surprised me how quickly I got used to the sight of naked women walking up and down the aisles alongside me, equally naked. 

The only real drawback was that there was always some 16-year-old standing outside, ready to demand that a woman lick his shoes or pinch her own nipples as a toll before being allowed into the store.  They all quickly discovered that my Master had not ordered me to deny them when they wanted to tug on my various rings, and one boy had even taken to grasping my nose ring between his thumb and forefinger, and leading me around the outside of the building, sometimes pulling my head down and up, before he'd release me to do his shopping.  I hoped that Justin would find an opportunity to treat that boy's mother similarly.  But when I complained about this treatment, Master just laughed.

One of my new routines was that at bedtime, i was required to kneel in front of Master and ask permission to join Master in Master's bed.  Before this, we'd usually just gone to bed like any married couple, just as we had before i became Master's property, as well as Master's wife.  Sometimes, about a third of the time, Master would deny me permission, and attach a chain to my labia rings, the other end of which was chained to the bed, and i would sleep on the floor at the foot of the bed, without pillow or blanket.  i often woke up during the night from the discomfort, but the sound of my Master's breathing always soothed me to sleep.  i liked it best though, when Master would grant me permission, and take me in his strong arms, tell me he loved me, and hold me all night.  i realized that this ritual made bedtime a time in which my attention was again turned towards Master, rather than what it had been, a time in which i focussed on myself and my own comfort.

Sometimes, Master would take me jogging with him in the morning.  Usually first thing in the morning, me naked except for running shoes, and Master armed with the riding crop to keep me running the right speed.  Running two miles this way would leave me gasping for air, and Master would take me to bed and forcefully fuck me while I was still gasping.  Having an orgasm in that state would leave me totally out of breath, and Master would roll me off the bed and onto the floor to try to catch my breath however I could, while Master went to shower.

Once, Justin came with us, and he attached a leash to the rings in my labia, and used that to lead me along -- at a run -- while Master used the crop on me.

Every Friday night at about 7:30, i was trotted out for maintenance discipline.  There was a lamppost in our front yard, and i was bound, naked, with my arms stretched up to the crossbar.  The neighbors -- adults at least, but some children -- usually gathered to watch as i received twenty-five strokes with the crop:  thirteen to my ass, six to the backs of the thighs, and six more on my back.  At the end of the whipping, through my tears and gasping, i would always call out, "i love you, Master!"  i'd be left bound there for at least half an hour after the whipping was done.  i learned never to forget that if I could be given this punishment for no other reason than that 7:30 on Friday had again rolled around, that i could be given much worse discipline for any actual misbehavior or disobedience.

Afterwards, the women whose masters and husbands didn't treat them as harshly, who allowed them to wear skirts, or even dresses, would approach me to wordlessly trace my fresh welts with their fingertips, as my husband chatted with their masters.  And Janet always watched this ritual with rapt attention.

It seemed that in those first months, I was always sunburned somewhere, and always had crop marks on my ass, my back or the backs of my thighs.

In the first week in our new house, several families dropped by to welcome us to the neighborhood, some childless couples, some with older teens, some even with small children in tow.  The men would be dressed comfortably, the women naked, or with sandals on.  A few wore slave collars, some had wrist or ankle cuffs.  A few had body piercings or tattoos that were either decorative, or symbolic of their inferior status.  Some of the women were fit, but some were overweight.  One or two I judged to be unhealthily thin.

The men would be offered seats, the women would be invited to sit or kneel on the floor.  I would serve drinks and the men would chat.  Each woman would stay near her man, but some of them came to the kitchen to help me with the serving.

For each family that came over, my Lord Husband and Master would direct me to stand, and display myself to the man, first facing towards him, then facing away.  Master would point out my piercings and tattoos, and tell how I had earned each of the welts from the riding crop.  Master always seemed to find a way to mention any punishments i had earned recently, or relate any anecdotes of treatment i had received from Master or the boys that Master found amusing.

This usually led to the visiting husband displaying his property to Master, and sharing similar stories.  The events of these stories were rarely as … what's the word?… extreme?  challenging?  outre?… as those Master told about me.  I gathered that some of these husbands were getting new ideas on how to treat their women from my master.

But not all; one of the men, whom my Master called William, came in with two women, twin sisters, both his slaves.  Not only their body hair but even the hair on their heads had been removed completely.  They were both collared, and wore wrist and ankle cuffs.  The ankles were chained together with a chain no more than ten inches long.  A chain from each of their collars dangled down and held the ankle chain from dragging the ground as they shuffled along.  Their wrists were locked together behind their backs.  They had ball gags in their mouths, which were never removed while they were visiting us.  i heard their master say that they wore the gags up to four hours per day.  They had small breasts (at least compared to me) and each bore, tattooed on her left breast, a blue letter.  One of them had the letter "a", and one had the letter "b", and it seemed that their master used these letters as their names.  i never heard him refer to them or address them as anything other than "slave a" and "slave b".   They had no piercings or other tattoos that i could observe, but they both had welts from a whip all over their bodies, of varying apparent ages.  i gathered that they were whipped frequently, and casually.

He told Master that each month, one of his slaves would be bound hand and foot, and locked in a closet for three days, with only a little water to drink.  The other would take care of the duties of both girls during that time.  They alternated months, taking turns as to which would be put into the closet.  He said that they came out very docile and obedient.  i hoped Master wouldn't do this to me.

Another family who visited seemed to be at the opposite extreme.  Her name was Jean, and she was the only one who wore a skirt, as well as shoes, and sometimes addressed her husband by his name, Hal.  Although she was topless, i had the impression that she considered it an imposition.  She seemed quite annoyed when i was presented to her husband, and when her husband asked her to stand and display herself to my Master she balked, and had to be told twice.  Then she had to be told twice again to raise her skirt so that Master could see her fully.  i thought her husband was embarrassed by her behavior in front of my master, and i wondered what punishment, if any, she might receive.

One Master arrived at our house with a dog, a fully grown male Great Dane, as well as a naked woman crawling on all fours, both with matching leashes and collars.  Her master called her "Lassie,"  and the Dane, "Laddie."  She never spoke that i heard, but occasionally addressed a canine sort of "woof" sound to her master to acknowledge when she was spoken to.  i wondered what sort of relationship she might have with the dog, whether she was higher in the family pecking order, or the dog.

There were several interracial couples, but one that i found most interesting were Cal and June.  Cal was a big black man who told Master that he had bought June in Alabama somewhere from her previous master.  It seemed that June had been raised to believe that blacks were inferior to whites, and Cal and the previous master had thought it amusing to force her to submit to a master whom she thought herself superior to.  June was one of the ones who was a bit overweight, but Cal told us he was regulating her diet so as to fix that.  "She's aways hungry, but she has to eat me before every meal," Cal said.  "And she has to beg for the privilege."

Another interracial couple who i quite liked was Jeff and LaJuana.  Jeff was a very intense and intelligent man, but only about 5 foot two inches tall, a bit shorter than i am.  LaJuana, by contrast, was a big girl, 5 foot eleven, and statuesque.  When he displayed her to my master, he put her through a series of military poses, "attention," "right face", and so on, followed by a series of slave poses and commands that i thought she must have worked very hard to learn for him.  Much of the time they were there, she knelt by his chair, kissing and licking his hand.

After a family would visit us, I began to receive visits from the women in that family, the slaves, wives, daughters or other property who had come to our home.  And I began to visit around the neighborhood as well.



i think it was about our fifth week there when, as i was led out on Friday evening for my maintenance discipline, that we were greeting by the master with his twin slaves, a and b, and one other master with his slave.  i recognized her as one of our previous visitors, her name was Rachel.

As i was strung up to the lamppost, Rachel was strung up opposite me, face to face with the lamppost between us.  Our masters whipped us with riding crops together; i think she was getting the same count i got.  We moaned and cried out as we received each stroke.  At the end of it, gasping for breath, i cried out, "I love you Master!"

This time, instead of leaving us strung up by our wrists, we were taken down immediately, placed on our knees in the front yard with our faces pushed down to the grass, our hands pulled between our legs and our wrist cuffs locked to our ankle cuffs.  This left our whipped asses on display in the air, with our knees spread wide.

Meanwhile, slaves a and b were strung up in their places.  Their master gave them each twice the count we'd gotten.  They writhed in pain, but their gags kept them silent.

i noticed that Jean and Hal had arrived while i was being whipped.  As the twins were being taken down, and arranged in the grass beside Rachel and myself, i heard my Master say to the assembled men, "who's next? Would anyone else like a turn?"

There was a pause.  Then i heard Hal say, "I think my wife needs a turn."

"What?  No!" i heard Jean shout.

"Woman, you need an attitude adjustment, and you're going to get one.  Now."

i heard head struggle and plead, and even curse as her husband forcibly brought her forward.  She wasn't wearing wrist cuffs, and so Jason was sent to bring some rope.  As they waited, i could hear Hal calmly explaining to her, "this is what we believe in.  A man is superior.  A husband is the master.  A woman is inferior.  A wife obeys.  She accepts discipline."

"Not like this!  Not in front of all these people!"

"You'll accept the discipline I give you.  Do you think you're better than these women?"

"Damn you!"

"Would you like to borrow a gag?" i heard the twins' master offer.

"Now it's time for you to be quiet.  Do I need to gag you, or can you be quiet without one?"

There was a pause.


"Say, 'without, please, sir,'" Hal told her.

"Without the gag, please, sir," Jean repeated.

"That's better."  Jason arrived with the rope, and Jean's arms were pulled up as mine had been.  Hal removed her skirt, and borrowed Master's crop.  He started off lightly at first, but worked his way up to stronger blows until Jean was crying out with each.  It seemed to me that he kept whipping her for a long time.  Maybe he felt she had some catching-up to do.

He left her there, gasping for breath and crying, for the full half-hour before he untied the knots and let her down.  She asked for her skirt back, but he told her it was too late for that now.

As he led her away, i heard him tell my Master, "we'll be back next Friday."



Jason, being fourteen, likes to test limits. 

He was playing a game on the game console when i came walking through the living room carrying clean laundry.  As was usually required of me, i was naked, but i'd been given general permission to wear sandals when i liked, and no one had replaced my collar or cuffs since they were last taken off, so my only jewelry was my wedding ring and the rings in my piercings.

"Stop there, slave," he said to me.  He used to call me "Carol" until we came here.  i stopped.

"Yes, Jason, sir?" i said with a smile.  He really is a good kid.

"From now on, i want you to address me as 'Sir Jason,'" he told me.

"Yes, Sir Jason, if that's what you wish," i answered, still smiling.

"That's better," he said.  "Now put those down, and stand here in front of me."

i set the laundry on a chair and walked over to him.  "Yes, Sir Jason?"

He leaned forward and stared at my shaved pubic mound, which was right at his eye level.  He knew that his Father's rules against sexual contact included touching me there.  He studied my tattoo, five links of steel-blue chain in a horizontal line.  He appeared to be working up the courage to give me his next order.

"Turn around," he finally said.  "Let me look at your ass."

"Yes, Sir Jason."  i turned around.  He must have been looking closely, because i could feel his breath on my skin.

"Bend over, spread your legs."

"Yes, Sir Jason," i said, obeying.  This was getting too close for comfort to his father's limits.  i knew he had a clear view of my anus and my labia, and perhaps even my cunt.

"Spread your cunt lips," he told me.  i did it, dreading what was next.  i was sure he was going to poke a finger into me, and my obedience to the rules would require me to resist him.

But that wasn't what he told me next.  "Put one of your fingers in your ass, and two in your cunt."

i knew his father wouldn't approve of this order, nor of me obeying it.

"i'm sorry, Sir Jason," i said, still bent with my head to the floor holding open the lips of my cunt.  "Your Father's rule is no penetration.  Not with anything, even my own fingers."

He sat back and sighed.  I waited, still in position.  Finally he sat upright, and said, "alright, straighten up and turn to face me again."

i did it.  i tried to read his expression, but couldn't.

"Kneel," he told me, "and hold your teats up for me."

When i did this, he reached for a nipple ring.  i leaned back.  "Sorry, Sir Jason," i said.

"I see," he said.  "I understand.  Do the rules still allow you to give me a hug?"

i saw Jason as i had always known him, and through my mind flashed images of him now, as a budding young man, and how he looked when he was younger.  i saw Jason as a precocious ten-year-old, as a cute six-year-old, as an infuriating toddler, and as the little baby i had learned to breastfeed.  i had loved this little guy all his life, and with a rush of affection, i put my arms around him and pulled him close.

my maternal instincts, so warm an instant before, sounded an alarm as Jason squeezed me to him, mashing my breasts against his chest.  i realized that at fourteen, he was as tall as i was, and possibly stronger.  i was still on my knees, and he slid off the couch and we knelt together in his rough embrace, our bodies touching from knee to shoulder.  He was asserting himself as a man would do, within the limits he was set, and i learned a new kind of respect for him.  All i could do was yield to him, lay my head on his shoulder, and try to express my love.

But when his hand slid down my back to my ass, i had to move it away.  i broke the contact, and stood up.

"May i continue my work now, Sir Jason?"

He stood up as well.  "Kiss my feet before you go."

i knelt again, and placed a dozen kisses on each of his shoes, then grabbed the laundry, gave him a quick bow of my head, and left the room.


i knocked on June's door one Saturday afternoon for a visit.  Master had given me permission to go out.  "Carol!" June greeted me at the door, wearing an African sort of long tunic, a "dashiki," i think it's called.  "What a pleasant surprise!  Come in!  Lord Cal has gone out to run some errands."

She led me through a pleasantly decorated, well-cared-for home to the family room, where she invited me to sit on the large sofa.

"Oh, thank you," i said, sinking to the floor in front of it, "but Sir Jason, that's my stepson, has put me on furniture restriction for the rest of the day.  He said i wasn't quick enough fetching his lunch."

"Your husband lets your children discipline you?"  She sounded shocked, but, remembering her manners, she joined me on the floor.

"Not corporal discipline, only furniture restrictions, or restricting my meals.  And any punishments that last beyond the current day have to be ratified by my Lord Husband and Master."

"They can restrict your meals?"

"And i have to obey them as i would Master."

"Really?  And how old is 'Sir' Jason?"

"He's fourteen," i replied.

"And what instructions does a fourteen-year-old give you that you have to obey?" June asked.

"He likes to remind me of my position by having me kiss his hands or his feet.  Sometimes he likes to attach a chain to one of my piercings and anchor me to whatever piece of furniture he's sitting on.  Sometimes he makes me stand absolutely still and just studies my body.  i usually have to make his breakfast and lunch, just the way he likes it.  i really don't mind, i love him so much.  He won't go too far, because he knows that everything he orders me to do, i'll report to Master that evening.  He's a good boy, but he's becoming a wonderful man.  He's entitled to have me obey him."

"Do you really believe that?"  June asked.  "That men are entitled to have you obey them?"

"Of course," i said.  "Men are superior, women should serve and obey them.  Don't you believe that?"

"Well sure I do!  Just… not all men are superior."

"Well, what about your husband, Cal?  i'm sure he's --"

June cut me off.  "Lord Cal is not my husband,"  she said.  "My husband, Sir Charles, who's back in Birmingham, sold me to Lord Cal six months ago.  But he has not divorced me.  He sold me under a certain condition that the sale would not be final until a year had passed."

"Why is that?" i asked.  i couldn't imagine Master ever selling me.  i realized that there might be some concepts i would have to adjust to.  i had accepted that i was property, but does a man really own a thing if he can't sell it?

"I have not consented to the sale," June went on.  "If I do not consent within one calendar year, the sale will be voided, the purchase price will be refunded, and I will go back to my husband, Sir Charles.  If i do consent, then Sir Charles will divorce me, and i'll fully belong to Lord Cal."

"Why haven't you consented?" i asked.

"Because Lord Cal is… a negro," she said, as if that explained everything.

"i don't understand."

"A negro man is not superior to a white woman.  He is not worthy to own me.  I will obey him for my husband's sake, go where he takes me, and submit to his orders, because that's what my husband wants.  My husband has always enjoyed degrading me, and I'm pleased to obey Sir Charles.  I know that Lord Cal speaks to him regularly about me.  I'm not allowed to speak to my husband, but I know that I'm pleasing him this way.  As humiliating as it is to be a slave to a negro."

"Doesn't your husband want you to consent to the sale?" i asked.

She sighed, "I believe he does.  But I cannot consent.  It is too much.  Master Cal has decided that I must loose 40 pounds.  He's put me on a strict diet.  He works at home, so I am not allowed to eat anything unless he is with me.  Before I can eat anything, I'm required to kneel in front of Lord Cal, kiss his feet, and beg permission to be allowed… to suck his cock.  I hate that, but I get so hungry, I have to do it.  I suck his cock until he's satisfied.  He's so large, it's very challenging to take him all in, but he says I'm learning.  He doesn't always come, but when he does, he comes in my mouth, and I have to swallow it.  Ugh!  Two or three times a day, sometimes.  I have to suck him until he gives me permission to stop.  Then I have to drink eight ounces of water before I eat.  That helps me eat less, but it means I get hungry again sooner, and it all starts over again.  I'm sure that my husband is pleased to have found such a humiliating way to thin me down.  I hope he likes how I look when I'm returned to him."

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