Contrasts

by Charles Arnold

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

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

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

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

  “What you wearin?”

  “Just my robe.”

  “The see-through one?”

  “No, an old one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Paul came into the kitchen. “Who was that?”

  “Darnell.”

  “Oh.” He stood there waiting for her to continue.

  She picked up her phone, brushed by him and slammed the bedroom door behind her. She turned on the television and tried unsuccessfully to concentrate on watching the news. After half an hour she turned it off and sat down at her makeup table.

  The bright red lipstick, the gloss, the mascara all carefully applied. Then the red pumps with the four inch heels. She brushed her hair and rubbed her body again with the scented oil. She put on a floor length very shear white robe that tied at the waist.

  ‘My God’ she thought, ‘I must be insane. He said I could ignore the contract. I don’t have to call him. He tells me I’m not even permitted to talk to him...talk to the boy who is my student unless I make myself look hot and sexy. And even if I wished to talk with him, I could say I’d done what he asked and he’d not know I hadn’t. But now I’ve just spent a half hour with lipstick and mascara and body oil and these red heels and this shear robe just so I can speak with him on the phone!’ She glanced at her watch. The hour was almost up. Quickly, she punched in his number using the special phone.

  “Yeah,” he sounded surly.

  “I...I thought I’d call.”

  “Why did you?”

  “Oh, uh....I just thought...I just wanted...”

  He cut her off, “You lookin the way I said?”

  “Yes, Darnell, honey. I did what you said for me to do.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’ve painted my lips bright red and used the gloss you like. And I’ve made up my eyes with eye shadow and mascara. I put on the red shoes with the high heel. I also rubbed my body with the perfumed oil.”

  “The robe?”

  “It’s the shear one I wore when you...when you...”

  “When I fucked you in your own bed.”

  “Yes, honey...when you fucked me in my own bed.” Saying the words caused the electric tingling in her stomach and she felt her pussy moisten and her nipples stiffen.

  “What else did you do that night?”

  “I..I....sucked your cock and...and I swallowed your cum.”

  “You like that. You like suckin my cock and eatin the black boy’s cum? She didn’t answer. “I asked you a fuckin question!” his voice rose.

  “Yes, honey. I liked it. You must know that.”

  “Finger your cunt.” She slid her middle finger along the crease. “Tell me,” he said.

  “I’m wet.”

  “I make you hot?”

  “Yes, honey.....I try not to let it happen because....because.....you’re so much younger and you’re...you’re one of my students...and...”

  “Yeah, well sometimes that’s just how it is. I knew I could have you the first time I seen you and I didn’t need Uncle Watts makin you do stuff.” There were several moments of silence. She recalled his thin arms and legs, the baggy pants, the worn sneakers, his narrow face and pendulous lips, the gold tooth, his thin fingers and toes, and his long smooth black cock...the scent of it....watching it slid up inside her, the violent thrusts, and afterward the sight of his cum oozing from her pussy, the taste of his cum on her tongue and in her throat.

  He interrupted her thought, “Ain’t I right,” he said, “I don’t need Uncle Watts. I could have you without the fuckin contract?”

  “Darnell,” she began, “you’re....you’re...” she paused. He waited. “Yes, you could. You could have had me without the contract,” she said.

  “After that first day when I come to your class I could have fucked you in your house? In your bed?”

  “Yes....honey, not right away, but if you had come back to class and...and been like you were on that first day, forceful like that, I think, in time, you could have.”

  “Call your dumbfuck husband and tell him to bring the camera Watts gave him.”

  Ann opened the door to find Paul standing right outside it. His face reddened.

  “Darnell says for you to get the camera.” When he returned with it she informed Darnell.

  “Put the phone on speaker,” Darnell said. When it clicked on he continued, “Ok, Paul, I want you to take some pictures of your wife for me.”

  “Yes,” Paul said.

  “Get in close to her face. Listen up, bitch, I want you to look sexy. Wet your lips and Paul you take three or four shots.” Ann felt embarrassed and self conscious, but tried to follow Darnell’s instructions.

  “I took four,” Paul said.

  “Now, take some shots of her standin and some of her sittin. Some with her legs closed and some with them spread so I can see her pussy.” He waited until Paul had announced he’d taken eight more. “Now, have her get naked and sit on the bed with her back against the headboard and her knees bent and her legs spread and wearin only the fuck me shoes.” Ann found herself wanting to please Darnell, wanting to excite him, wanting to make him want her. She slipped off the robe and took the position he’d described. Paul kneeled at the foot of the bed with the camera. “Who does that mouth belong to?” Darnell asked over the speaker phone.

  “To you, honey.” she said.

  “What you want to do with it?”

  “I want to kiss you, tongue kiss
you, and...and kiss your…cock, kiss your balls....suck you...suck your cock.”

  “Swallow?”

  “Yes, yes, of course.”

  “Them titties?”

  “They’re for you.”

  “And your cunt? Always wet for me? Always wantin my black cock?”

  “Yes, Darnell honey, it’s always wet for you...whenever you want it...my....my cunt belongs to you.”

  “Yeah,” he laughed, “now you gettin it right. Maybe I’ll come back to class on Monday, but maybe not.” He paused. “Paulie, you send them pictures to my computer right now. You know how to do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “I got what your wife said on a recorder. I ain’t too smart, but I know how to make a video. I can put the pictures together with what she said and have myself a nice little porno movie. Somethin to jerk off to when I ain’t fuckin her.” They thought he was finished, but his voice filled the room again, “Hey, Mrs. Gardner, you hot for Darnell?”

  “Yes, honey, I am....you must know that I am.” There was a slight click and he was gone.

  Paul put down the camera. “Ann, I realize you have to say what you think they want to hear, but with that boy...well, you seemed maybe to mean it.”

  “Maybe I did, Paul. I honestly don’t know anymore.” She handed him the camera. “Send the photographs.”

  By the following morning the whip marks were almost completely gone. For the first time in two weeks she felt rested. During her morning shower she called up images of herself in her empty classroom kneeling at the feet of Darnell while he sat in her desk chair. She saw his long black cock wet with her spittle and inhaled the rank scent of his sweating crotch. She came quickly and violently.

  She tried not to think of what was to occur later that day. Around noon her NWS phone vibrated. Of course, it was Watts. “I must say, Mrs. Gardner, you are causing me some difficulties with my nephew, Darnell. The boy wants me to give you to him. He wants you to be his for the remainder of your contract...exclusively his.” He waited. When she didn’t respond, he continued. “What do you think of that idea?”

  Of all the men she’d been with since signing the contract Darnell was potentially the meanest and, she was sure, quite capable of degrading and demeaning her unmercifully. She felt certain that if given exclusive rights to her, he’d become physically abusive. “As you know, Mr. Watts....you are my Master. If you choose to give me to...to the boy I won’t and can’t object.”

  “Your answer surprises me, Mrs. Gardner. I thought you would make a fuss. Well, at least for now, in order to keep peace in the family, I’ve granted him more access. As for exclusive rights, that’s another matter for another day. I am calling to remind you that you and your husband are hosting the poker club this evening.”

  “I hadn’t forgotten.”

  “Have you managed to accommodate the largest of the anal plugs?”

  “I’ve tried, but it’s too big. I think it would tear me.”

  “Some of your guests mentioned that they’d like to penetrate you there. The virgin ass of a young and pretty white woman is highly prized by black men. I want to make sure someone who can be of important value to me gets it.”

  “Please, Master, give me more time. In another week, maybe two.”

  “Very well. We mustn’t damage valuable property, must we?”

  “Thank you.”

  “As for tonight: I want you to select several changes of dress. After servicing one of your guests, change into something else equally provocative. Of course reapply your makeup as frequently as necessary. You are to be completely available and to anticipate their desires. You are not to refuse them anything nor are you to complain. I’ll tell them that your ass is off limits. The cameras will be operating in all the rooms so I’ll be able to view your performance in real time or at my leisure tomorrow. I’ve instructed Paul as to his duties. Do you have any questions?”

  “I’m to...to...service all five?”

  “That’s correct. At least once, but I’m sure most will want seconds, possibly more. It promises to be a busy night.” He paused. “By the way, are our black men giving you orgasms?”

  “Yes.”

  “Frequent orgasms, feel free to tell the truth.”

  “Yes, frequent.”

  “Powerful orgasms?”

  “Yes, they are powerful.”

  “More frequent and more powerful than those your husband once gave you?”

  She was quiet for a moment then said, “My husband didn’t...

  Watts cut her off, “I’m sure he didn’t.” She heard him chuckling before the phone went dead.

  At seven o’clock a van pulled into the driveway. Right beside it was John Albertson’s Mercedes sedan. The five men had arranged to arrive at the same time. Paul had been told to wear his chauffeur’s uniform. He greeted them at the door. It was a cool evening so most were wearing jackets or coats. He took these. None of the men acknowledged him. They treated him as a servant which, of course, is what he had become. They did, however, let him know that poker wasn’t the primary reason for their visit. They took their places around the dining room table which Paul had set with a variety of snacks, glasses, poker chips and the deck of cards. After he had taken their drink orders, Albertson said, “Tell your wife we’re here.”

  Paul smiled weakly, “I suspect she knows it,” he said.

  “Then get her out here.”

  Before filling the drink orders he tapped lightly on the bedroom door. Ann opened it. He drew in his breath and stepped back. She wore an electric blue spandex dress that fit her body like a second skin. Her legs and shoulders were bare. The scooped neck was low enough to expose the black spade tattoo on the upper swell of her breast. He glanced at her feet and saw both the tattoo and the ankle bracelet. She was wearing blue open toed stilettos. Her face was made up more heavily than ever; dark eye shadow and mascara, a darker shade of lipstick and a generous coating of gloss. He knew there was nothing under her dress. He didn’t know whether she was going to strike him or burst into tears. “Ann, I’m so sorry....believe me I....love you....seeing you like this, knowing what......”

  She stepped by him and went down the hall. The reaction of the men at the table was startled silence. Although they had seen her naked and whipped in Watts’ office, they weren’t prepared for the stunning woman who stood in the doorway glaring at them, before bowing her head and clasping her hands in front of her.

  She stepped aside as Paul entered with a tray of drinks: a bottle of Scotch, a bottle of Vodka, a bucket of ice, and two beers. Nelson Suggs, the burly mechanic, took a bottle of Budweiser and held it up, “Here’s to Mrs. Gardner!” he said. The men had found their voices, and nodding and smiling in her direction echoed his greeting. Cliff Bass, a muscular young dock worker, grabbed Paul’s wrist. “You been hanging up the coats and bringin us drinks, Paulie. That’s women’s work. What’s your wife gonna do?” He winked across the table at Ike Johnson.

  Paul shot a look at Ann who still had her head bowed. “Ahh....she...uh...she’s agreed to...to...”

  Ann looked up, “I’m here to service you,” she said.

  “What’s that mean?” Suggs asked.

  “It means I’m here to please you. To do what you tell me to do.”

  “Anything?”

  “Yes, anything except....

  “Except fuck your ass,” Suggs interrupted.

  “Yes, anything except that.”

  “Who you savin it for”

  “That’s for Mr. Watts to decide.”

  Trevor Bass spoke up, “Watts is your Master.”

  “That’s right. He’s my Master.”

  Suggs frowned, “But we’re your Masters too, ain’t that right?”

  “Yes, you are. I belong to you.”

  Suggs slid his chair back and patted his knee, “Right here’s where you belong,” he said.

  Ann crossed the room to sit on his lap. Immediately he ran his hand along the side of her body to cup
her breast. With his other hand he placed her hand on his crotch. “You feel that?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You like black cock?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “In your mouth or in your cunt?”

  “I like it in both.” The men were nodding at each other now and laughing. They watched intently as Suggs moved his hand up the inside of her dress. She flinched when he drew a finger along her slit. He looked around at the others. “She fuckin wet already!” He held up his finger which glistened with her pussy juice. The men hollered and high fived and laughed. Watts hadn’t lied to them. She was theirs!

  Suggs pushed her from his lap and stood up. He was a head taller than Ann, a broad shouldered man, his hair graying at the temples, a huge belly protruding over his belt. He smelled strongly of perspiration. He looked down at Ann, “You said you’d do what we wanted?” She nodded and bowed her head. “I want you to fuck me,” he said.

  Ann took him by the hand and led him down the hall to the bedroom.

  For the next three hours Ann either fucked or sucked each man at the party, five in all. After one of the players had cum in her mouth or pussy he would return to the game while Ann reapplied her makeup and put on another provocative dress or gown. Ike Johnson was the last of the five. Of course, each described in detail what he made her do and how he gave her a big load to swallow or fucked her into a screaming orgasm.

  After Ike was finished and closed the bedroom door behind him, Ann lay face down on the damp bed and sobbed for a long time. Her lips were swollen and bruised. Her vagina had been stretched and was rubbed almost raw. Their semen coated her throat.