Chapter 23A: Tabitha's Big Mistake

Nate pulled his ratty Chevette into the driveway of Nora's new digs and parked behind a rental truck from whose wide-open back a couple of men and a woman were removing articles of clothing and other items. "Guess you ain't moved in yet..."

"Maybe not, but things are apparently well along..." Nora recognized the stuff on hangers going in the door. "Let's go in."

"You sure?"

"Daddy SAYS you're welcome. No time like the present to see if he's serious..." Nora opened her door.

Nate got out and looked around, just as a dapper individual in a grey uniform appeared. "Good evening, Sir."

"Uh, hi. You want me to move?"

"Not necessary, Sir. If you'll just give me the keys, I'll move it to the garage."

"Uh, okay." Nate, nonplussed, handed over the keys.

"Thanks, Jorge," Nora smiled.

"Miss." Jorge touched his cap and slid behind the wheel.

Nora passed a significant glance at Nate, "We've met before." Nate watched his car pull away, around the horseshoe driveway to a wing near the gate where a garage door opened. Nate was frankly amazed that they'd bother to park his beater indoors... "Come on," Nora prompted.

A black woman opened the door for them, admitting Nora with "Good evening, Miss," and looking blankly at Nate.

"Good evening. Can you point me to my new room?"

"Yes, Miss. Follow me, please." The woman led them to a room in what Daddy had referred to as the 'north wing' on Nora's last visit; from the sound of things, Mom was in the somewhat larger suite at the end of the hall. The Mexican woman who had caught such Hell the last time she was here was taking piles of Nora's clothing from the bed and hanging them in the closet, along with her daughter. The black woman murmured, "Can I do anything else for you and your..."

Nora took notice of something that Nate had been fuming about for some time; the woman apparently was in the process of assuming that he was a servant, or something. "That would be boyfriend," she simpered, "Or, more accurately, lover." She eyed the black woman sidelong.

Leticia was taken aback! Just exactly what Miss Nora was doing with a black boy trailing her hadn't been clear, but the answer she just got... "You aren't serious! Does Mister Wilson know?"

"I AM serious, and, yes, Daddy is well aware, thank you." Nora turned away, dismissively, and Nate stood there glaring at Leticia.

"I EXPECT that shit from white folk!" he growled, "but YOU?"

"Uhhh, sorry sir!"

"Shhh, Honey. It's okay. We're going to have to put up with that, sometimes, but I'm sure she'll never do it again!" Nora nibbled Nate's neck, while eyeing Leticia.

Leticia had seen that look before -- in Nora's father's eyes. "No Ma'am! No Sir. I'm sorry, Sir!" She got out of there.

Nate was still grouchy. "Why do I get that shit from a sistah? Jeezus!"

"Now, Honey. I'm not expecting the warmest welcome in YOUR neck of the woods. The good news is that we have control over it, here. It won't happen more than once..."

"Well, okay." Nate looked around; things were pretty opulent. "Shit, I can't compete with this!"

"Nobody's asking you to, Honey. This is as new to me as it is to you -- we'll figure it out. In the meantime, you and I have our own thing that this has nothing to do with."

"Well, okay, if you say so." Belief wasn't strong with him.

"It was my impression that your relationship with Nora had little or nothing to do with money," a voice rumbled form the doorway.

"Uh," Nate gulped. This was Nora's Daddy, in person! "Yeah... I didn't know she was rich when we met..."

"Neither did she," Armand pointed out. "She had been carefully insulated from that reality. Is it now, suddenly, relevant?"

"Well... It's just... I can't DO this!" Nate waved his arms.

"Not today, perhaps. Nora isn't so dazzled by the trappings of wealth that she can't do without. In fact, she has as little experience with them as you do."

"That's gonna change, though, ain't it?"

"The second part? Yes. The first? I hope not..." Armand's eyes bored into his daughter's.

Nora looked defensive. Without removing her eyes from her father, she enlightened Nate, "Getting all caught up in money is frowned on in Daddy's family. They don't believe in handing you everything on a platter. Daddy is where he is today because he had a couple of cousins who enjoyed spending money more than earning it. If I get too comfortable around here, I might end up living in a grass hut somewhere."

Armand chuckled, turning his attention to Nate. "See? You have potential. Let's see if you can actualize it. In the meantime, why don't you stick to the things that the pair of you have in common, and worry less about comparisons with someone twice your age?"

"Uh, yessir." Armand waved vaguely and moved off down the hall. Nate hopped from foot to foot for a bit, but Nora needed to get settled in -- they weren't going to get much quality time tonight. "I oughta go. You got stuff to do."

Nora sighed, capitulating. "All right." They headed back down the hall. "I'm not sure how I get someone's attention to get your car out..." She eyed an intercom panel in the hallway. There appeared to be one primary button... She punched it. "Hello?"

"Yes?" A contralto voice issued from the speaker.

"This is Nora. My boyfriend is getting ready to leave. Could you have Jorge bring his car around?" Was that what you said? Around?

"Certainly, Miss. He'll be right there."

"Who was that?" Nate wondered.

"No idea." Nora shrugged. In a moment, they were at the door. "I know this has been weird and strange, but look at it this way -- I'm going to YOUR house tomorrow..."

"Yeh," Nate managed a grin. "THAT should be a trip." They stood waiting a moment, then Jorge opened the door and walked in.

"Your car is ready, Sir."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, Sir. Will there be anything else?"

"Uh, no."

Jorge nodded and moved off. Nate turned to Nora and, somewhat embarrassedly, started a kiss. Nora didn't let go, so it got better over time. He went back for seconds, and thirds... Finally, he sighed, "Car's gonna run out of gas..."

"All right." Nora hugged him. "I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Okay." Another quick kiss and he let himself out. Driving away, he wondered if he'd ever be comfortable in Nora's new digs...

People had come in while Sharon was in the tub, carrying box after box and putting other things like on-hanger clothing on the bed. The Wench had gone out to observe the commotion, and on her return had merely responded, "Your things have arrived," to Sharon's query. When Sharon started to get out of the tub, she forestalled her, murmuring, "Haven't enough people seen you naked today?" Sharon blinked and settled back.

A few minutes later, Armand stuck his head in the door. Sharon snatched for a towel, but he merely eyed her steadily until she put it down. "You are unharmed?" Armand asked. "I can send for the doctor..."

"I'm fine."

"All right. I'll have dinner sent up." He eyed the Wench. "See to it that she has all she needs to settle in."

"Yes, Master."

That was the end of the interview. Sharon soaked for another twenty minutes, then the Wench helped her shampoo and shower. Sharon felt she could have done fine by herself, but it wasn't going to happen, so... The Wench even got in the shower with her and washed her back, which made her vaguely nervous, but she was obviously avoiding anything sexual. When they re-entered the bedroom, it held a large quantity of moving clutter -- boxes and other loose items awaiting Sharon's attention. "God, I'm not up for this!" she complained.

"Then don't worry about it," the Wench said, breezily. "They're just clothes, mostly. I'm an expert at clothes." She started moving hanger-bound items to the closet. "Just sit and relax."

Sharon settled in a chair, but couldn't really relax. Eventually, they started working as a team, the Wench fetching clothing and Sharon arranging it in drawers and the closet. Sharon slid into a light robe, but the Wench's nudity demanded that she not act prudish, so she left it at that.

After about an hour, Nora stuck her head in the door. "Mom? How are you?"

Sharon looked up from a drawer half-full of underclothes. "I'm fine," she said tiredly. "I was better earlier, but then all this showed up..."

"Yeah, I had a pile, too," Nora agreed. "Daddy seems to be in a big hurry for us to settle in."

The Wench said nothing, but got a knowing look. "What?" Sharon demanded.

"Well, this whole thing has played into his hands," the Wench replied. "I'd push things as far as I could, too, if I was Master."

"Yeah, I guess." Sharon sat down. "I knew we'd probably end up here, but I figured to hold out longer."

"It would only have been more painful," the Wench counseled. "You have saved yourself trouble."

"The whole thing was such a surprise..."

Nora settled on the bed and asked quietly, "So what happened? Not the fifty thousand foot view -- the whole thing."

"These guys showed up, in a van with a plumbing company logo. There were three of them. When I came to the door, two of them were watching a third guy come up the walk carrying buckets. There was an older white guy, and a black guy -- I'm not even sure what the third guy looked like, because he had his head down. They said your father had sent them. I figured the people he had spying on us had told your father and he hired someone, so I opened the door. The white guy went through and I turned to watch him and the black guy grabbed me from behind. Next, a bag went over my head, and they tied my hands behind me. I tried to scream, but they knocked the wind out of me..." Sharon sat there, remembering.

Dinner showed up. Inez and a woman Sharon had never seen before -- a beautiful, light-skinned Hispanic woman -- brought trays of food and beverages. The Hispanic woman was in charge; she announced, "Please ring when you're finished, Ma'am, and we'll clear this away." The pair withdrew quietly.

Sharon eyed the Wench. "Why didn't they expect you to do that?"

The Wench shrugged. "I'm a specialist. In some ways, they probably assume I'm not skilled enough to be a servant. In others, they expect me to carry the ball. This is something they do that I don't -- unless you direct otherwise. I'm a... 'body servant'." She looked sheepish.

Sharon took a look at her tray -- salmon and asparagus spears and a rice pilaf. Not bad... The wine was one she'd had before...

"Do I have to wait?" Nora complained.

Sharon grimaced and took a sip of wine. "Oh, all right -- where was I?"

"The plumbers bagged you and tied your hands..."

"Oh, yeah. Well, I tried to start trouble and got a good slap for it, then tried to scream and got the wind knocked out of me for it. Things got kind of quiet for a minute or two, then they started dragging me around by the pants legs. I tried to fight, but one of them stuck his foot in my stomach and another one stripped them off. Kicking didn't seem to help me -- in fact, it might have helped them, for all I know." She stopped to take a bite of salmon, chewed, swallowed, and continued, "Somebody shredded my panties, which wasn't unexpected, but then they started talking about the merits of just killing me versus raping me first. It scared the shit out of me; I tried to scream again, and took another punch in the stomach..." She shuddered, and took a sip of wine. "Things got weird about then. I got a lecture on cooperation and they took off the hood and stuck these strange goggles on me..."

"Goggles?" The Wench blinked in surprise.

"Uh huh. They were special. They were at least totally blurred, if not silvered, every direction but straight down. That's the only direction I could really see in. The mirroring sucked; they took a flashlight and shined it on them and I was totally blind!"

"Then what happened?" Nora prompted.

"Well, they undid my hands and told me to get out of my top and bra, then they plopped me on a kitchen chair and started asking questions..." Sharon shook her head as the memories poured past. "They seemed to think I knew a lot about Armand's business dealings, and that we were a lot more cozy than we really are... When they didn't get anything much in the way of answers, they started doing things that hurt like Hell."

"Like what?" The Wench was fascinated.

"Trying to make my breasts two sizes smaller was a favorite," Sharon replied, rubbing her right breast. "Then they spread-eagled me over a table and somebody rammed a telephone pole up my ass, dry -- shit, that hurt!" She speared some asparagus, and chewed a bit, then, staring at her plate, said dully, "I wasn't any too brave -- I spilled my guts. But the problem was, I didn't know anything, anyway..."

"Nobody blames you," the Wench soothed. "You did what you had to."

"I guess." Sharon was still troubled. She picked at her asparagus for a bit, then went on, "When it became apparent that I wasn't going to be any too valuable as an information source, they started using me as a cum dumpster. I already had a cock in my ass; when the black guy shoved his cock in my face, I just opened up..."

"It's okay, Mom! What were you SUPPOSED to do, for God's sake?" Nora consoled.

"Maybe..." Sharon took another bite of her salmon, but to the two observers, it looked like she was tasting something else. "He... He made me vomit, deliberately, jamming his cock down my throat. I know how to take it, but..."

"I've had that, recently," the Wench affirmed. "If they don't give you time to get it under control..."

"He didn't. He seemed to want me to puke -- he kept jamming it in deep... I vomited into a trash can. He dragged around a glass of water and said something about kissing me later, and that now that my stomach was empty, there wouldn't be further problems, then he started shoving it in again. I couldn't fight -- the heaves had taken everything I had left..." She just stopped, her face a mask of guilt.

"What's wrong? C'mon, Mom, you aren't to blame for anything, here..."

But Sharon's shoulders began to shake. "God help me, I started to enjoy it..."

The other two rushed in. The Wench took the tray while Nora gathered her mother into her arms to hold her while she wept. "You shouldn't blame yourself for that, Mistress -- Master has been training you to enjoy the rough stuff for a long time, now."

"I couldn't help it!" Sharon wailed. "They rolled me on my back and I had one in my ass, and the black guy riding my throat, and then a third guy showed up from somewhere and started riding me... He was right there, making everything else good, and I just couldn't help myself! The black guy backed off and started playing with my nipples, and the guy in my ass came -- and I got mine, too, at the same time..."

"Shhhhh," Nora consoled. "It's the way you do sex. It's no surprise that you managed to enjoy it."

Sharon nodded, washed out. "It was just... so much... The guy in my pussy kept pounding... I forgot I was being raped, and grabbed the black guy and tried to swallow him whole the second time I came..."

Nora rubbed her mother's back, but she was somewhat shocked. Twice?

Sharon, now in full confession mode, plowed on, "The guy came in me, then came around and ordered me to clean him off with my mouth, but then the guy in my ass rolled me over and pulled out. The black guy circled around and slid into me from behind and started pounding away, talking wild trash about getting me pregnant. I was so fucked up, I believed him! I finished cleaning the one guy, and the guy in my ass stuck HIS dick in my face -- and there was no denying him! Gawd, that was awful!" The Wench handed her the wineglass, and she emptied it. "When I finished, the other guy came back, but the black guy bitched about having to take it easy, so they rolled me on my back again, with my head hanging over the edge of the coffee table, and went at both ends... The black guy kept talking about me raising his little bastard kids..." She shook her head. "He came -- and I did, too, BIG..."

The Wench, watching Nora, murmured, "Master has been training your submissive streak for a long time; that's just the thing you're trained to go into ecstasy over. It's no big surprise -- go easy on yourself." Sharon nodded, and Nora did, too, grateful for the reality check.

Sharon waved a hand. "That was pretty much it. They duct taped me to the coffee table, arms and legs taped to the table legs, while one of them kept shoving his cock down my throat. I was pretty much gone... They flashed a light in my eyes and took off the goggles, and the guy using my throat squirted cum in them, but it didn't matter; I was already blinded... Then they stuck a vibrator in me and turned it on, but I wasn't really capable of noticing, any more. I was wasted, but they managed to scare the Hell out of me, anyway, by sticking a lit candle in my mouth and another one on my belly. I couldn't move, and couldn't see, and if I moved wrong and the one on my belly fell over... Thank God it wasn't five minutes before Jason came roaring in with a bunch of guys behind him! After that, it was mostly embarrassing..."

"Okay," Nora said, "so why are we here?"

Sharon scratched her head. "Well, it seemed clear at the time... Ummm... Oh! While I was getting worked over, somebody went up to my room and fixed all of the holes, but apparently made new ones, or something. Your father said it was probably done to cover installation of other equipment, and that the house was compromised. He said that to put us in a hotel, he'd have to block off as many as twenty-seven rooms and man them all -- AND put a team in the room with us..." Sharon shrugged. "So I gave up, and here we are." She just sat there, not looking up.