My Halloween Costume Part 2C - One Drop Shop
Posted: Sun Oct 13, 2024 6:16 pm
Part 3. Please let me know in the comments if you are enjoying the story, and wish me to write the conclusion. Happy Halloween!
Entirely naked, save for the locket that allowed me to visit this magical place, I marched arm in arm with Colonel Lakewood into the library, strolling forward as if walking naked through a marble rotunda was the most natural thing in the world.
The library was a large room with high ceilings, built in a classical Roman style. The floor was marble, the arched ceiling was marble and the bookshelves were separated by white marble columns with Corinthian capitals. The doors on either side of the room were flanked by large white columns, and had a pediment over them. The top of the ceiling was decorated with an endless coffle of naked slave girls chained together, as if a gigantic circle of naked slave girls was looking down at the room.
The room contained a half dozen statues of naked women, all in leg shackles, or collars, or cuffs. One statue depicted a Roman slave girl being whipped across her bottom by her master. Another depicted a kneeling slave girl, her legs spread and her head lowered in shame, being sold off the auction block by a Barbery Pirate. Smaller depictions of naked slave girls in various states of subjugation served as the bookends on the shelves.
The center of one of the walls gracing the table featured an enormous mirror. Under the mirror was a beautiful statue of a kneeling Greek slave girl, grimacing in pain as she looked over her shoulder at her freshly branded bottom.
Patting my hand, Colonel Lakewood introduced the room with great pride. “The One Drop Shop has the finest library devoted to the subject of slavery in the known world. We have records of slave auctions dating back to antiquity, as well as ledgers, bills of sale, and bills of ladings. We have numerous books, dissertations, and essays documenting the moral, economic, and social blessings of slavery, as well as interviews with many happy slave owners, and the savages whom they saved from their own depravity.”
Looking around the room, I realized that the One Drop Shop was designed to connect Antebellum slavery to Greek and Roman slavery, and the empires of old. Keeping women naked and chained was nothing to be ashamed of. Indeed, it was the pinnacle of civilization.
As stunning as the room was, but I can’t say that, upon first entering the room, it’s architectural splendor was foremost on my mind. I was aghast to see that the library was crowded with the elite of New Orleans society. Some of the men were reading, but most seemed to congregated in small groups, discussing politics or their fortunes or the day’s news.
All of the patrons were men. There were a few serving girls, obviously mixed race, who were in short tunics, like something one might see in Greece or Rome. One man in the corner had a naked girl on a leash kneeling next to him, like a dog. She rested her head on his knee, and he absentmindedly scratched her head while he chatted with his companions about the price of sugar.
Upon entering the room, all eyes turned towards me, the naked white woman being escorted in, arm-in-arm with Colonel Lakewood. I had often dreamed of what it might be like to be on the auction block, to be admired by countless eyes as I was put through my paces. Now as I saw them smirk and leer and rape me with their eyes, I felt like I was being served for dinner.
Then why were my nipples hard, and why was my pussy humming? This wasn’t what I had imagined it would be. It was better. Utterly terrifying, but infinitely more exciting.
“See?” Bella said, whispering in my ear. “Eyes Wide Shut, Antebellum Edition.”
Bella’s description captured the moment perfectly. I was in a den of rich, untouchable perverts. These men were above the law, because they were the law. I was their entertainment, their diversion. I didn’t matter, except as their property. They were in charge.
As I surveyed the room, I thought I recognized a few of them. I spotted an old Professor in college I prick teased into giving me an “A”, searching the stacks of books. I had promised him “everything” when the class was over, but then stiffed him both literally and figuratively.
I saw a boyish blonde dude I had dated once in college. He had tried to have his way with me, so I stabbed him in the leg with my knife, and then had him brought up on drug charges. He was cute, but not nearly as tough as me, and father told me that in prison the little would-be rapist had become everyone’s girlfriend. Someone told me he had gotten shived. Too bad, so sad, but FAFO. Whatever his fate in my world, he was here now, fondling the bottom of a serving girl trying to pour him wine.
I saw quite a few familiar perverts, many of them family friends, although now they were much better dressed, and a few sported beards and mustaches. I didn’t know all of them, but there were more than enough of them to make my utter nakedness all the more humiliating.
Colonel Lakewood led me to a large, ornately carved reading table in the center of the library, about 10 feet long. Bella helped me crawl up on the table, and bid me to get up on all fours as the men gathered around.
“That’s a good girl,” she cooed, whispering in my ear. “On all fours, with your chin up, and your tail in the air. Like a dog.”
At the front of the table, Sebastian, Colonel Lakewood, Judge Watcher, and Billy reviewed the documents already prepared in my file. They had prepared the documents to certify my whiteness, but Sebastian kept asking about what sort of court order would be required to enslave me forever.
“I think we need to clean you up a little,” Bella whispered, running a handkerchief between my legs as she pretended to position me. To my embarrassment, I was soaked, as the excitement of stripping for the men and having my slave girl fantasy come true overpowered my sense of decency.
“Goodness, Katherine,” Bella said, again whispering in my ear. “They don’t have your DNA report, and they don’t know about the 12% black thing. But if you juice up like a frisky negro bed wench…”
My heart was racing. I hadn’t shared my DNA report with anyone. How did Bella know that I was 12% black? 6 ¼ was the threshold where I would lose my right to call myself white. Oh, I couldn’t let them know! I couldn’t let them see that side of me!
Bella continued the tease as Sebastian continued to argue. “What a scandal you are! 6% is the limit, and you’re nearly twice that,” she said, whispering in my ear. “You’ve been living a lie all these years, passing as white, pretending to be something you’re not. What a naughty colored wench you are.”
I tried not to grunt as she dried my sex, conscious of the men who would decide my fate standing only a few feet away. At the front of the table, Colonel Lakewood began the assessment. Lifting my chin, he examined my face closely, reporting is findings to Billy, who diligently scribbled them on the forms.
“21-year-old female, unmarried, father and deceased. She is currently in the care of her stepmother, and her half-brother, Sebastian. Black hair, black eyes. Shoulder length hair, curly, and a bit frizzy. The roughness of her hair is not pronounced, but maybe an indicator of African descent.
“That’s not fair,” I said. “My hair is—”
I stopped code as I felt the tip of the lash run back and forth over my bottom. “I am attempting to be patient with you, Katherine,” Judge Watcher warned. “But this is an official proceeding of the court, and interruptions will NOT be tolerated.”
“Mark it down on the form,” Sebastian suggested. “Negros are like animals, and can’t behave, except under the whip.”
“We may get there,” Judge Watcher agreed, letting the lash dangle and tickle my bottom.
“Note it on the form, Billy,” Colonel Lakewood agreed.
“Her lips are plump in a way that is suggestive of negro blood, but her nose is pointed, and is in no way flat of monkey like. Eyes are clear, and she appears to be able to answer questions intelligently.”
“She was sent to the Wellington Finishing School,” Sebastian noted. “They taught her French, and how to play the piano. Can you speak French, or play the piano for us, Katherine?” he challenged.
“No,” I admitted quietly. I had never learned to do either, at least not in the time line I had come from. I wanted to object, but looking to my left I saw a very stern Judge Watcher fingering the lash.
“She’s dumb as a rock,” Sebastian said. “Cotton headed, like all negroes are. She’s slow, and stupid, and can’t think for shit.”
I clenched my teeth, daring not to speak even as Colonel Lakewood nodded. “Billy, please note the girl has a mental slowness, and an inability to learn. Her step brother has said that she is dull witted, and slow to understand simple things the way a white person might.”
“Can’t understand things a white person might…” I looked over at Bella, who was grinning at me. She mouthed the words “12 percent”, smiled, and shook her head.
Colonel Lakewood opened my mouth, and looked up my nose. “Her teeth are well maintained, and her general appearance suggests that she is clean, and properly cares for herself. There is no evidence of any unpleasant negro odor or animal smell.”
“Perfume,” Sebastian said. Colonel Lakewood ignored him.
I gasped as Colonel Lakewood reached under the table and fondled my breasts. “Apple sized breasts, small and round, with well formed pink nipples. Nothing about her breasts suggests the large udders a negro woman might have.”
I could hear myself pant as he ran his hand along my side, feeling my ribcage. “She is thin, and does not seem to have accumulated weight in the way some negro women do.”
“Some negro woman”, Sebastian repeated.
The Colonel paused, and felt my belly button. “No signs of stretch marks, or childbirth. Belly button in an “inny”.
There was some laughter at this peculiar note.
“Her skin is alabaster white, smooth, and unblemished,” he said, running his hand along my flank and thigh. There is a small birthmark on the inside of her left thigh, heart shaped. “Overall, the subject appears to be quite fit, and no suggestion of mixed race in her overall build or stature. Her back and buttocks have no scars, and are free of any whip marks.”
“Yet,” Judge Watcher said ominously, as he shook out the lash. My bottom tightened in response.
“She has no brands on her thighs, hands, or buttocks.”
“Yet,” Sebastian said. Again, my bottom cheeks clenched.
I tensed as Colonel Lakewood grabbed my bottom cheeks and began fondling them. “Fine, tight bottom, highly set cheeks, not at all flabby like some negro women. Her most attractive feature, actually, since her tits are so small. I can understand why you’re so anxious to use the lash, Watcher. Her bottom will whip up quite nicely.”
There was some laughter from the men gathered around. I felt myself blush as Colonel Lakewood separated my bottom cheeks, and the men crowded in for a better look. “Asshole appears to be in fine working order, with no evidence of whip marks or brands.”
I gasped as I felt his hand slip between my legs. “Cunt is warm to the touch, and quite moist. She is not a virgin, but still quite pleasingly tight. Easy entry, and I have no problem slipping three… no four fingers in. Yes, it’s a tight grip, and she’s got a good grasp between her legs. Subject appears to be quite… receptive.”
“See? She’s not a virgin. She’s a negro wench!” Sebastian said. “Hot to trot, and ready to be bedded!”
“It’s mere perspiration,” Watcher said. “It’s quite warm in here. What do you expect, the poor girl stripped naked, with all these men gawking at her. I must say, Lakewood, that this has gone far enough, with all of this silliness about whippable bottoms and curly hair. My daughter has hair curlier than Katherine’s, and a fine, tight rump. Does that make her a negro, too?”
“Of course, she’s dull witted,” a man in a purple suit with a silver cane said. “She’s a woman, isn’t she? If that were the test, every white woman in New Orleans would be on the block.”
“And we’d be the better for it,” a voice behind me noted, to some laughter.
It seemed that spectators could interrupt the proceedings, but I could not. Still, I was pleased. Was it possible the rampant sexism and misogyny of the room would work to my advantage, and free me?
“We haven’t done the exercises yet,” Sebastian noted. “We need to see if she is fit.”
Colonel Lakewood, who also seemed to be tiring of the proceedings, objected. “She’s fit, man! Look at her! She’s perfect.”
Again, I was conscious of countless male eyes examining my naked body.
“Under the law, she must be put through a full examination. Exercises are a part of the procedure. Do we do the exercises now, or after I go to Appellate Court.”
Judge Watcher didn’t raise his voice, but his anger and disgust were apparent. “Sebastian, I didn’t always approve of your father, or of the Pattersons in general. I have always found you to be a greedy, nasty lot. But today, you have brought shame upon shamelessness.”
“If my father were here, he would doubtlessly thank you, Watcher. But he didn’t put you in your job to pass moral judgements, but to pass legal ones, the legal ones that would benefit my family. You have my permission to proceed.”
Judge Watcher took a moment to suppress his anger before turning to me. “Stand up, Katherine, on the table, where everyone can see you. Move over to your left. Center of the table, in front of the large mirror.”
I stood up, hands at my side. After what I had just been through, covering myself seemed quite silly. A naked woman looking down at a room of men, I very much felt like I was on the auction block.
Judge Watcher looked directly up at me. “I am going to put you through a series of exercises, the same sort of exercises I might put a negro wench through, if I were testing her fitness before I bought her. Sebastian will doubtlessly object to any leniency, so I will need to be very strict with you. You understand what ‘strict’ means?” he asked raising the whip above his head for emphasis.
He raised the whip high enough so it blocked the light above me. I would literally be doing my exercises under the shadow of the whip. “Yes, your honor,” I said meekly. “Thank you, your honor.”
I’m not sure why I felt the need to thank him for threatening me with a slave whipping, but it seemed appropriate, and he nodded, so it must have been the right thing to say.
“Let’s start with some stars. You can begin.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded.
“Stars, girl!” he snapped. “Do I have to use the whip already?”
Fortunately, Bella, who was standing behind the Judge, mimed a jumping jack, so I knew what a “star” was.
I began to do jumping jacks. Yes, in a Romanesque library on an ornately carved wooden table, I did stark naked jumping jacks for a room filled with New Orleans , most successful, most powerful, richest sexual deviants.
“Faster,” Sebastian said. “I want to see her work up her slave stink.”
“Pick up the pace,” Judge Watcher agreed. “We need to see how fit you are.”
Commanding me to debased myself to demonstrate my physical fitness was the height of hypocrisy, but as the Colonel’s whip was still casting it’s shadow on me I knew I was in no position to argue.
A worse position was soon to come.
“Now, I’d like to test your flexibility. Bend over, and put your hands flat on the table. Keep your legs straight… now spread your legs. We want to see those bottom cheeks spread out. That’s right, give us a little wink, ha-ha! Don’t be shy.”
“Shy” wasn’t the word I would use to describe the position, as the men crowded around Watcher for a better look. I realized the reason for the large mirror as I saw the reflection of my shamefully exposed pussy and asshole projected to the other side of the room.
“Again. Again. Let those cheeks spread out. Very good.”
“Good girl. Now, let’s run in place. Good. No, faster. FASTER! FASTER! Knees up! Let’s see those little titties bounce. Knees higher, girl!”
“I can’t get them any higher!” I whimpered. “Not why I’m running this fast.”
CRACK!
I heard the whip before I felt it, a thunderclap that echoed through the marble room until it was throbbing in my head. It felt like a live wire, buzzing with electricity, had been placed across my naked ass, covering the entirety of the curve from far left to far right.
Reaching back I gripped my bottom, screaming in pain. “Knees up, girl!” Judge Watcher barked. “Or do you want another?”
Setting my ass ablaze did nothing to improve my form, but everything to improve my determination as I raised my knees up to my chest, almost jumping as I strained to avoid the lash.
“Look at the little monkey go,” a man chuckled.
“Yes, a few flicks of the whip, and anything is possible,” another voice said.
Through my teary eyes I caught sight of Sebastian. He was grinning as he watched me suffer, his eyes gleaming with undisguised glee. It has often been said of my family, and of myself, I must admit, that cruelty is not a byproduct of what we do, cruelty is the point. Although he was not my half-brother, he was definitely a Patterson, and I recognized in him the sadism that was our defining trait.
As my eyes teared up, and my bottom continued to blaze, I felt myself become light headed. I kept on, though, for I knew the lash was waiting, ready to “flick” my bottom again if I disobeyed.
I don’t remember blacking out, but when I awoke I was lying on the table, as the all-powerful demigods surrounding me debated my fate.
Judge Watcher was clearly on my side. “Let’s put an end to this business, and let this wretched girl be. I will be happy to mediate an arrangement between Katherine and Sebastian that will ensure that the Patterson plantation shall remain intact. There is no reason that we cannot, if we behave like adults, settle this amicably, as my good friend, your father, would have wished.”
This was greeted with several ‘huzzas” and murmurs of approval.
The first sensation I felt as consciousness returned was the line of fire across my bottom. Wanting only to return to the present, where my bottom might be properly attended to, I reached up to remove the cursed necklace that had brought me to this place.
But my hands did not move. Nor my arms. Instead, I choked.
I realized my hands had been bound behind my back in such a way that each hand was bound to the elbow of the opposing arm. The ropes were tight, and quite uncomfortable, but as they were tied to a noose fitted around my neck any attempt to relieve the strain on my arms choked me.
Yes, there wasn’t enough slack in the ropes to ever get comfortable. I knew Sebastian had done the tie.
Judge Watcher continued. “Let us be done with this, and free Katherine immediately. I trust that none of the men who have witnessed this will discuss what they have seen today.”
I looked around. Several men nodded, others smiled. Several seemed disappointed that the fun was coming to an end.
“Are you going to let her go?” Sebastian said. “Are you going to let this black bitch steal half my fortune? Would you humiliate me, by having me mediate with a fancy girl?”
Ignoring him, Lakewood spoke directly to Watcher. “I could go either way. The evidence is intriguing, but inconclusive. I am ready to sign the papers to free her. Untie her.”
“May I examine her?” Bella said.
“You?” Judge Watcher said. “You are not a member of the court, or a licensed assessor. I don’t see what you can bring to the proceedings.”
“Let her have a go at her, Watcher,” one of the men in the crowd said.
“Yes, let’s have a bit of fun. You two can’t seem to figure anything out.”
Bella walked over to the table. Gently, she stroked my cheek, smiling down at me, relishing her position of power. “Roll over, Katherine, onto your back. Now brings your knees up. Yes, that’s good. Now scooch down so that your toes are wrapped around the edges of the table. Good girl. Now, spread your legs, and slide down, so that your bottom is at the edge of the table. No, spread your legs wider. Wider. That’s good!”
I blushed crimson. Bella had given the men a gynecological view of my exposed twat. She had arranged me as if I was in the stirrups, with my butt hanging off the end of my examination table. The men quickly gathered around, and I closed my eyes to avoid their gaze.
Gently, she started stroking my exposed gash. “That’s right, relax. Close your eyes and listen to my voice. It’s just you and me, two sisters, in a cruel world. Let sister make it better.”
I gasped as she slid a finger inside of me as she teased my clit with her thumb. Damn if she didn’t know what she was doing. I wiggled under her touch. The razor cut on my backside kept my ass wiggling, while the noose around my neck forced my head to bobble like some ridiculous doll. My pussy was pulsing, squeezing her fingers, juicing squirming like piece of raw meat being squeezed out of a bag.
“Relax and enjoy. Feel that hot monkey blood coursing through your veins. You don’t have to pretend to be white anymore. You’re not a lady. You’re a baboon, with a hot, wet, stinking pussy you want the men to use. You want to be their bed wench, and stink up their sheets when the lady of the house is visiting her mother. You want them to put you to stud, and breed you with some big darkie who will drop a whole litter of puppies your master can sell.”
I gasped and groaned, arching my back and wiggling my ass as my pussy spasmed uncontrollably.
“You’re not 1/16, are you, my little monkey?” she said in a teasing tone, torturing me under her touch. “You’re not 6%.. or 7%... or 8%.. or 9%... or 10%.. or even 11%! You’re 12%! My goodness, that makes you an octoroon!”
As my official legal label was revealed to all, I experienced the most shattering orgasm of my life. Crying out on the table, I screamed as my pussy quivered like jelly, and gushed all over Bella’s talented fingers.
“Yes, yes, I’m an octoroon!” I shouted. “It’s true. I’m sorry, Sebastian. I’m sorry, Judge Watcher, and Colonel Lakewood. It’s true! It’s true! I’m an octoroon.”
My eyes were still closed. The room was deadly silent, except for my sobbing.
At last, Judge Watcher spoke. His tone reflected the enormous betrayal he felt at how my disgusting masquerade had shamed him, my family, and justice itself. His verdict was solemn, clear, and final.
“Put the little bitch on the block.”
Entirely naked, save for the locket that allowed me to visit this magical place, I marched arm in arm with Colonel Lakewood into the library, strolling forward as if walking naked through a marble rotunda was the most natural thing in the world.
The library was a large room with high ceilings, built in a classical Roman style. The floor was marble, the arched ceiling was marble and the bookshelves were separated by white marble columns with Corinthian capitals. The doors on either side of the room were flanked by large white columns, and had a pediment over them. The top of the ceiling was decorated with an endless coffle of naked slave girls chained together, as if a gigantic circle of naked slave girls was looking down at the room.
The room contained a half dozen statues of naked women, all in leg shackles, or collars, or cuffs. One statue depicted a Roman slave girl being whipped across her bottom by her master. Another depicted a kneeling slave girl, her legs spread and her head lowered in shame, being sold off the auction block by a Barbery Pirate. Smaller depictions of naked slave girls in various states of subjugation served as the bookends on the shelves.
The center of one of the walls gracing the table featured an enormous mirror. Under the mirror was a beautiful statue of a kneeling Greek slave girl, grimacing in pain as she looked over her shoulder at her freshly branded bottom.
Patting my hand, Colonel Lakewood introduced the room with great pride. “The One Drop Shop has the finest library devoted to the subject of slavery in the known world. We have records of slave auctions dating back to antiquity, as well as ledgers, bills of sale, and bills of ladings. We have numerous books, dissertations, and essays documenting the moral, economic, and social blessings of slavery, as well as interviews with many happy slave owners, and the savages whom they saved from their own depravity.”
Looking around the room, I realized that the One Drop Shop was designed to connect Antebellum slavery to Greek and Roman slavery, and the empires of old. Keeping women naked and chained was nothing to be ashamed of. Indeed, it was the pinnacle of civilization.
As stunning as the room was, but I can’t say that, upon first entering the room, it’s architectural splendor was foremost on my mind. I was aghast to see that the library was crowded with the elite of New Orleans society. Some of the men were reading, but most seemed to congregated in small groups, discussing politics or their fortunes or the day’s news.
All of the patrons were men. There were a few serving girls, obviously mixed race, who were in short tunics, like something one might see in Greece or Rome. One man in the corner had a naked girl on a leash kneeling next to him, like a dog. She rested her head on his knee, and he absentmindedly scratched her head while he chatted with his companions about the price of sugar.
Upon entering the room, all eyes turned towards me, the naked white woman being escorted in, arm-in-arm with Colonel Lakewood. I had often dreamed of what it might be like to be on the auction block, to be admired by countless eyes as I was put through my paces. Now as I saw them smirk and leer and rape me with their eyes, I felt like I was being served for dinner.
Then why were my nipples hard, and why was my pussy humming? This wasn’t what I had imagined it would be. It was better. Utterly terrifying, but infinitely more exciting.
“See?” Bella said, whispering in my ear. “Eyes Wide Shut, Antebellum Edition.”
Bella’s description captured the moment perfectly. I was in a den of rich, untouchable perverts. These men were above the law, because they were the law. I was their entertainment, their diversion. I didn’t matter, except as their property. They were in charge.
As I surveyed the room, I thought I recognized a few of them. I spotted an old Professor in college I prick teased into giving me an “A”, searching the stacks of books. I had promised him “everything” when the class was over, but then stiffed him both literally and figuratively.
I saw a boyish blonde dude I had dated once in college. He had tried to have his way with me, so I stabbed him in the leg with my knife, and then had him brought up on drug charges. He was cute, but not nearly as tough as me, and father told me that in prison the little would-be rapist had become everyone’s girlfriend. Someone told me he had gotten shived. Too bad, so sad, but FAFO. Whatever his fate in my world, he was here now, fondling the bottom of a serving girl trying to pour him wine.
I saw quite a few familiar perverts, many of them family friends, although now they were much better dressed, and a few sported beards and mustaches. I didn’t know all of them, but there were more than enough of them to make my utter nakedness all the more humiliating.
Colonel Lakewood led me to a large, ornately carved reading table in the center of the library, about 10 feet long. Bella helped me crawl up on the table, and bid me to get up on all fours as the men gathered around.
“That’s a good girl,” she cooed, whispering in my ear. “On all fours, with your chin up, and your tail in the air. Like a dog.”
At the front of the table, Sebastian, Colonel Lakewood, Judge Watcher, and Billy reviewed the documents already prepared in my file. They had prepared the documents to certify my whiteness, but Sebastian kept asking about what sort of court order would be required to enslave me forever.
“I think we need to clean you up a little,” Bella whispered, running a handkerchief between my legs as she pretended to position me. To my embarrassment, I was soaked, as the excitement of stripping for the men and having my slave girl fantasy come true overpowered my sense of decency.
“Goodness, Katherine,” Bella said, again whispering in my ear. “They don’t have your DNA report, and they don’t know about the 12% black thing. But if you juice up like a frisky negro bed wench…”
My heart was racing. I hadn’t shared my DNA report with anyone. How did Bella know that I was 12% black? 6 ¼ was the threshold where I would lose my right to call myself white. Oh, I couldn’t let them know! I couldn’t let them see that side of me!
Bella continued the tease as Sebastian continued to argue. “What a scandal you are! 6% is the limit, and you’re nearly twice that,” she said, whispering in my ear. “You’ve been living a lie all these years, passing as white, pretending to be something you’re not. What a naughty colored wench you are.”
I tried not to grunt as she dried my sex, conscious of the men who would decide my fate standing only a few feet away. At the front of the table, Colonel Lakewood began the assessment. Lifting my chin, he examined my face closely, reporting is findings to Billy, who diligently scribbled them on the forms.
“21-year-old female, unmarried, father and deceased. She is currently in the care of her stepmother, and her half-brother, Sebastian. Black hair, black eyes. Shoulder length hair, curly, and a bit frizzy. The roughness of her hair is not pronounced, but maybe an indicator of African descent.
“That’s not fair,” I said. “My hair is—”
I stopped code as I felt the tip of the lash run back and forth over my bottom. “I am attempting to be patient with you, Katherine,” Judge Watcher warned. “But this is an official proceeding of the court, and interruptions will NOT be tolerated.”
“Mark it down on the form,” Sebastian suggested. “Negros are like animals, and can’t behave, except under the whip.”
“We may get there,” Judge Watcher agreed, letting the lash dangle and tickle my bottom.
“Note it on the form, Billy,” Colonel Lakewood agreed.
“Her lips are plump in a way that is suggestive of negro blood, but her nose is pointed, and is in no way flat of monkey like. Eyes are clear, and she appears to be able to answer questions intelligently.”
“She was sent to the Wellington Finishing School,” Sebastian noted. “They taught her French, and how to play the piano. Can you speak French, or play the piano for us, Katherine?” he challenged.
“No,” I admitted quietly. I had never learned to do either, at least not in the time line I had come from. I wanted to object, but looking to my left I saw a very stern Judge Watcher fingering the lash.
“She’s dumb as a rock,” Sebastian said. “Cotton headed, like all negroes are. She’s slow, and stupid, and can’t think for shit.”
I clenched my teeth, daring not to speak even as Colonel Lakewood nodded. “Billy, please note the girl has a mental slowness, and an inability to learn. Her step brother has said that she is dull witted, and slow to understand simple things the way a white person might.”
“Can’t understand things a white person might…” I looked over at Bella, who was grinning at me. She mouthed the words “12 percent”, smiled, and shook her head.
Colonel Lakewood opened my mouth, and looked up my nose. “Her teeth are well maintained, and her general appearance suggests that she is clean, and properly cares for herself. There is no evidence of any unpleasant negro odor or animal smell.”
“Perfume,” Sebastian said. Colonel Lakewood ignored him.
I gasped as Colonel Lakewood reached under the table and fondled my breasts. “Apple sized breasts, small and round, with well formed pink nipples. Nothing about her breasts suggests the large udders a negro woman might have.”
I could hear myself pant as he ran his hand along my side, feeling my ribcage. “She is thin, and does not seem to have accumulated weight in the way some negro women do.”
“Some negro woman”, Sebastian repeated.
The Colonel paused, and felt my belly button. “No signs of stretch marks, or childbirth. Belly button in an “inny”.
There was some laughter at this peculiar note.
“Her skin is alabaster white, smooth, and unblemished,” he said, running his hand along my flank and thigh. There is a small birthmark on the inside of her left thigh, heart shaped. “Overall, the subject appears to be quite fit, and no suggestion of mixed race in her overall build or stature. Her back and buttocks have no scars, and are free of any whip marks.”
“Yet,” Judge Watcher said ominously, as he shook out the lash. My bottom tightened in response.
“She has no brands on her thighs, hands, or buttocks.”
“Yet,” Sebastian said. Again, my bottom cheeks clenched.
I tensed as Colonel Lakewood grabbed my bottom cheeks and began fondling them. “Fine, tight bottom, highly set cheeks, not at all flabby like some negro women. Her most attractive feature, actually, since her tits are so small. I can understand why you’re so anxious to use the lash, Watcher. Her bottom will whip up quite nicely.”
There was some laughter from the men gathered around. I felt myself blush as Colonel Lakewood separated my bottom cheeks, and the men crowded in for a better look. “Asshole appears to be in fine working order, with no evidence of whip marks or brands.”
I gasped as I felt his hand slip between my legs. “Cunt is warm to the touch, and quite moist. She is not a virgin, but still quite pleasingly tight. Easy entry, and I have no problem slipping three… no four fingers in. Yes, it’s a tight grip, and she’s got a good grasp between her legs. Subject appears to be quite… receptive.”
“See? She’s not a virgin. She’s a negro wench!” Sebastian said. “Hot to trot, and ready to be bedded!”
“It’s mere perspiration,” Watcher said. “It’s quite warm in here. What do you expect, the poor girl stripped naked, with all these men gawking at her. I must say, Lakewood, that this has gone far enough, with all of this silliness about whippable bottoms and curly hair. My daughter has hair curlier than Katherine’s, and a fine, tight rump. Does that make her a negro, too?”
“Of course, she’s dull witted,” a man in a purple suit with a silver cane said. “She’s a woman, isn’t she? If that were the test, every white woman in New Orleans would be on the block.”
“And we’d be the better for it,” a voice behind me noted, to some laughter.
It seemed that spectators could interrupt the proceedings, but I could not. Still, I was pleased. Was it possible the rampant sexism and misogyny of the room would work to my advantage, and free me?
“We haven’t done the exercises yet,” Sebastian noted. “We need to see if she is fit.”
Colonel Lakewood, who also seemed to be tiring of the proceedings, objected. “She’s fit, man! Look at her! She’s perfect.”
Again, I was conscious of countless male eyes examining my naked body.
“Under the law, she must be put through a full examination. Exercises are a part of the procedure. Do we do the exercises now, or after I go to Appellate Court.”
Judge Watcher didn’t raise his voice, but his anger and disgust were apparent. “Sebastian, I didn’t always approve of your father, or of the Pattersons in general. I have always found you to be a greedy, nasty lot. But today, you have brought shame upon shamelessness.”
“If my father were here, he would doubtlessly thank you, Watcher. But he didn’t put you in your job to pass moral judgements, but to pass legal ones, the legal ones that would benefit my family. You have my permission to proceed.”
Judge Watcher took a moment to suppress his anger before turning to me. “Stand up, Katherine, on the table, where everyone can see you. Move over to your left. Center of the table, in front of the large mirror.”
I stood up, hands at my side. After what I had just been through, covering myself seemed quite silly. A naked woman looking down at a room of men, I very much felt like I was on the auction block.
Judge Watcher looked directly up at me. “I am going to put you through a series of exercises, the same sort of exercises I might put a negro wench through, if I were testing her fitness before I bought her. Sebastian will doubtlessly object to any leniency, so I will need to be very strict with you. You understand what ‘strict’ means?” he asked raising the whip above his head for emphasis.
He raised the whip high enough so it blocked the light above me. I would literally be doing my exercises under the shadow of the whip. “Yes, your honor,” I said meekly. “Thank you, your honor.”
I’m not sure why I felt the need to thank him for threatening me with a slave whipping, but it seemed appropriate, and he nodded, so it must have been the right thing to say.
“Let’s start with some stars. You can begin.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded.
“Stars, girl!” he snapped. “Do I have to use the whip already?”
Fortunately, Bella, who was standing behind the Judge, mimed a jumping jack, so I knew what a “star” was.
I began to do jumping jacks. Yes, in a Romanesque library on an ornately carved wooden table, I did stark naked jumping jacks for a room filled with New Orleans , most successful, most powerful, richest sexual deviants.
“Faster,” Sebastian said. “I want to see her work up her slave stink.”
“Pick up the pace,” Judge Watcher agreed. “We need to see how fit you are.”
Commanding me to debased myself to demonstrate my physical fitness was the height of hypocrisy, but as the Colonel’s whip was still casting it’s shadow on me I knew I was in no position to argue.
A worse position was soon to come.
“Now, I’d like to test your flexibility. Bend over, and put your hands flat on the table. Keep your legs straight… now spread your legs. We want to see those bottom cheeks spread out. That’s right, give us a little wink, ha-ha! Don’t be shy.”
“Shy” wasn’t the word I would use to describe the position, as the men crowded around Watcher for a better look. I realized the reason for the large mirror as I saw the reflection of my shamefully exposed pussy and asshole projected to the other side of the room.
“Again. Again. Let those cheeks spread out. Very good.”
“Good girl. Now, let’s run in place. Good. No, faster. FASTER! FASTER! Knees up! Let’s see those little titties bounce. Knees higher, girl!”
“I can’t get them any higher!” I whimpered. “Not why I’m running this fast.”
CRACK!
I heard the whip before I felt it, a thunderclap that echoed through the marble room until it was throbbing in my head. It felt like a live wire, buzzing with electricity, had been placed across my naked ass, covering the entirety of the curve from far left to far right.
Reaching back I gripped my bottom, screaming in pain. “Knees up, girl!” Judge Watcher barked. “Or do you want another?”
Setting my ass ablaze did nothing to improve my form, but everything to improve my determination as I raised my knees up to my chest, almost jumping as I strained to avoid the lash.
“Look at the little monkey go,” a man chuckled.
“Yes, a few flicks of the whip, and anything is possible,” another voice said.
Through my teary eyes I caught sight of Sebastian. He was grinning as he watched me suffer, his eyes gleaming with undisguised glee. It has often been said of my family, and of myself, I must admit, that cruelty is not a byproduct of what we do, cruelty is the point. Although he was not my half-brother, he was definitely a Patterson, and I recognized in him the sadism that was our defining trait.
As my eyes teared up, and my bottom continued to blaze, I felt myself become light headed. I kept on, though, for I knew the lash was waiting, ready to “flick” my bottom again if I disobeyed.
I don’t remember blacking out, but when I awoke I was lying on the table, as the all-powerful demigods surrounding me debated my fate.
Judge Watcher was clearly on my side. “Let’s put an end to this business, and let this wretched girl be. I will be happy to mediate an arrangement between Katherine and Sebastian that will ensure that the Patterson plantation shall remain intact. There is no reason that we cannot, if we behave like adults, settle this amicably, as my good friend, your father, would have wished.”
This was greeted with several ‘huzzas” and murmurs of approval.
The first sensation I felt as consciousness returned was the line of fire across my bottom. Wanting only to return to the present, where my bottom might be properly attended to, I reached up to remove the cursed necklace that had brought me to this place.
But my hands did not move. Nor my arms. Instead, I choked.
I realized my hands had been bound behind my back in such a way that each hand was bound to the elbow of the opposing arm. The ropes were tight, and quite uncomfortable, but as they were tied to a noose fitted around my neck any attempt to relieve the strain on my arms choked me.
Yes, there wasn’t enough slack in the ropes to ever get comfortable. I knew Sebastian had done the tie.
Judge Watcher continued. “Let us be done with this, and free Katherine immediately. I trust that none of the men who have witnessed this will discuss what they have seen today.”
I looked around. Several men nodded, others smiled. Several seemed disappointed that the fun was coming to an end.
“Are you going to let her go?” Sebastian said. “Are you going to let this black bitch steal half my fortune? Would you humiliate me, by having me mediate with a fancy girl?”
Ignoring him, Lakewood spoke directly to Watcher. “I could go either way. The evidence is intriguing, but inconclusive. I am ready to sign the papers to free her. Untie her.”
“May I examine her?” Bella said.
“You?” Judge Watcher said. “You are not a member of the court, or a licensed assessor. I don’t see what you can bring to the proceedings.”
“Let her have a go at her, Watcher,” one of the men in the crowd said.
“Yes, let’s have a bit of fun. You two can’t seem to figure anything out.”
Bella walked over to the table. Gently, she stroked my cheek, smiling down at me, relishing her position of power. “Roll over, Katherine, onto your back. Now brings your knees up. Yes, that’s good. Now scooch down so that your toes are wrapped around the edges of the table. Good girl. Now, spread your legs, and slide down, so that your bottom is at the edge of the table. No, spread your legs wider. Wider. That’s good!”
I blushed crimson. Bella had given the men a gynecological view of my exposed twat. She had arranged me as if I was in the stirrups, with my butt hanging off the end of my examination table. The men quickly gathered around, and I closed my eyes to avoid their gaze.
Gently, she started stroking my exposed gash. “That’s right, relax. Close your eyes and listen to my voice. It’s just you and me, two sisters, in a cruel world. Let sister make it better.”
I gasped as she slid a finger inside of me as she teased my clit with her thumb. Damn if she didn’t know what she was doing. I wiggled under her touch. The razor cut on my backside kept my ass wiggling, while the noose around my neck forced my head to bobble like some ridiculous doll. My pussy was pulsing, squeezing her fingers, juicing squirming like piece of raw meat being squeezed out of a bag.
“Relax and enjoy. Feel that hot monkey blood coursing through your veins. You don’t have to pretend to be white anymore. You’re not a lady. You’re a baboon, with a hot, wet, stinking pussy you want the men to use. You want to be their bed wench, and stink up their sheets when the lady of the house is visiting her mother. You want them to put you to stud, and breed you with some big darkie who will drop a whole litter of puppies your master can sell.”
I gasped and groaned, arching my back and wiggling my ass as my pussy spasmed uncontrollably.
“You’re not 1/16, are you, my little monkey?” she said in a teasing tone, torturing me under her touch. “You’re not 6%.. or 7%... or 8%.. or 9%... or 10%.. or even 11%! You’re 12%! My goodness, that makes you an octoroon!”
As my official legal label was revealed to all, I experienced the most shattering orgasm of my life. Crying out on the table, I screamed as my pussy quivered like jelly, and gushed all over Bella’s talented fingers.
“Yes, yes, I’m an octoroon!” I shouted. “It’s true. I’m sorry, Sebastian. I’m sorry, Judge Watcher, and Colonel Lakewood. It’s true! It’s true! I’m an octoroon.”
My eyes were still closed. The room was deadly silent, except for my sobbing.
At last, Judge Watcher spoke. His tone reflected the enormous betrayal he felt at how my disgusting masquerade had shamed him, my family, and justice itself. His verdict was solemn, clear, and final.
“Put the little bitch on the block.”
