Chapter 4

Bufford sat on his living room sofa wearing a red and white plaid, short-sleeve shirt with his arms stretched out to the sides. He was naked from the waist down except for the black socks, and his legs were spread. A few unopened beer cans remained on the table between the couch and chair. The empty ones littered the floor. With the coffee table pushed aside, there was no place for Bufford or his brother to put the empties.

A young black woman, kneeling between Bufford’s spread legs, had his dick inside her mouth. She was the reason he had kicked the coffee table away. The woman’s ankle-length dress pooled on the floor around her. Three stiff braids stuck out from her head, one on each side and one in the back. They bounced with her bobbing head. A metal collar was locked around her neck.

Bufford looked away from the bobbing head to his brother. “Clyde, he’s a good old boy.”

The police chief shifted in the cushy chair, crushed his empty beer can, and, with a flick of his wrist, hurled it at the black woman. It bounced off her back and clattered on the floor. She flinched.

“You don’t know him from Adam,” the police chief said.

“I’ve been watching him. He’s one of us.”

“He’s not from around here. And he ain’t related so he’s not one of us.”

“He treats niggers like dirt.”

The black woman stopped sucking and glanced up at Bufford. He slapped her face so hard her head spun to the side. His cock bumped the inside of her cheek before popping from her mouth. Tears formed in her eyes as she rubbed the cheek that was turning a darker color.

“Cunt, get your fuckin’ mouth back on my dick!” Bufford said.

With tears streaming down her coffee-colored cheeks, she stuffed his cock back into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as her thick lips pursed around the white flesh.

“Has she been behaving?” the police chief asked.

“She’s stubborn, but she’s learning.” Bufford looked down at the woman. “Ain’t that right, slave?”

The woman nodded with his cock inside her mouth, her wet eyes staring up at him, tears flowing down her cheeks.

Bufford’s eyes narrowed. “What do you say when I talk to you?”

Panic filled the black woman. She held his cock straight up with one hand as she pulled off it.

“Yes, Mastuh Bufford. I been behaving. I’m a good slave.”

She stuffed his cock back into her mouth.

“She seems to be learning,” the police chief said.

“The collar is a good trainer. Thought it would just keep them from running away, but it’s a good punisher. Anyone been looking for her?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He rubbed his chin while studying the woman. “Not sure I like what you did to her hair.”

“I saw a picture of that Tipsy nigger-girl from that Uncle Tom book.”

The police chief chuckled. “You dumb fuck. You think the nigger was a drunk? Her name was Topsy.”

“Tipsy, Topsy, who the fuck cares? This nigger is one sweet piece of ass.”

“That she is.”

Standing, the police chief unbuckled his belt and walked behind the woman. Her head stopped bobbing only for an instant as her body tensed. The police chief let his trousers drop to his feet and pushed down his boxers. His hard dick waggled in the air. Bending down, he flipped the woman’s dress onto her back.