Chapter 60B: The New Order

... And that brought her back to a picture of Boris, cautiously out- waiting her. He KNEW, damn him! Did she have ANY defense from him? Not at this point. Maybe if she could survive the weekend for a few days -- but thinking about it was like watching her life slip away. Time would pass, she'd get stubborn, or stupid, or both -- and the whole thing would fade away, leaving... nothing. Nothing at all.

That glimpse at a barren future fed her resolve; she would try to get some guarantees, but would make the attempt, rather than fritter it away. Shutting off the water, she reached for a towel. Things weren't silent; Boris was still around, apparently, singing some gruff song in his gravelly voice -- still in the shower, apparently. No need to get dry, then... Carrying the towel, she headed for the men's showers.

Boris had moved on, mentally -- he was lustily singing an old Georgian drinking song about the vagaries of women. Nothing would happen tonight -- if ever; the little negress -- okay, black -- bitch was displaying the signature temper common to black women. She would come around, or she wouldn't -- what would be, would be...

"Boris?"

Boris turned. She was back. "No soap?"

"No, I'm done."

"You're wet."

"Yes."

Boris quit goofing off and started rinsing. "Shouldn't you dry off?"

"I figured I might just get wet again."

He kept an eye on her, poker-faced, while he rinsed. "You should dry yourself. I am done."

"Okay." She busied herself with the towel; God knew it was easier than what was coming...

Boris shut off the water and reached for his own towel. There was a temptation to open the conversation, but he knew better than to give in to it. He made a production of drying himself while he waited her out.

Finally, it became apparent that she was going to lose again. "We need to talk," Leticia blurted.

"Okay," Boris replied impassively. "Here? Somewhere else?"

"Somewhere else."

"You wore something here?"

"A bathing suit. I'll go get it."

"Okay." Boris tucked his towel around his waist in his usual manner; when Leticia met him in the sunroom, she was wearing hers similarly, leaving her breasts uncovered. Perhaps tonight WAS the night... "Where?"

"Your rooms? Mine?"

"Yours. You will be more comfortable. You do not look comfortable right now, eh?" Boris observed.

"Okay." The pair headed back to the servant wing in silence, Leticia leading. The hallway turned out to be a minefield -- or at least an ambush site -- Phillippe's door was open, and he was sitting in his doorway, leaning on a reversed kitchen chair. Leticia staggered, breaking step, and glanced at Boris as he drew even -- but she didn't cover her breasts; Boris slid a hand down her forearm and she took the cue.

"What are you doing?" Boris challenged Phillippe.

Phillippe shrugged, ogling Leticia's exposed breasts. "This is more entertaining than TV. I WAS waiting to see who's room Ed was sleeping in tonight..."

Boris grunted. "Why do you care where Ed sleeps? Velma interests you?"

"No. Nowhere near the way Leticia does," Phillippe grinned evilly.

"I had not noticed you taking an interest in either one," Boris replied.

"Well, that was before..."

"Before what?"

"Before they started sleeping around, in-house."

"Ah." Boris turned this one over in his head. "Both of them have slept with the Boss..."

"That doesn't count."

"You like negr-- black womans?" Boris queried. "I have never seen you with one..."

"I like women," Phillippe replied, continuing to eye Leticia as if she were a piece of meat.

"Womans have to like YOU!" Boris pointed out.

"Maybe. Is that how you got Leticia?"

Boris passed on several comments that might cause issues with Leticia, and settled on, "The Boss does as he chooses in these things. Leticia's punishment is over. Velma was not being punished, but I think she was not happy. Besides, you are already doing well finding womans, no?"

"Not THAT well. So where are you two going? And where have you been?" Phillippe asked.

"We were in the baths," Boris replied. "We arrived separately."

"Right." Phillippe's disbelief was evident.

"It's true!" Leticia insisted. "I got there first! Besides, I was being punished before! Why would I..." The problem with this line of reasoning became evident before she finished it.

"I'm sure," Phillippe sneered. "So, where are you going?"

"My room," Leticia replied. "We're going to discuss... recent events."

"Can I go along?" Phillippe asked, rising from the chair.

"No!" Both Boris and Leticia replied simultaneously. Boris added, "The Boss does not owe you entertainment. Womans in this house do not, either. If you want to start having sex with womans in this house, maybe you should start by being nice to them."

"Women in this house don't get off on people being nice to them!" Phillippe replied. "Generally, they have sex because the Boss says to -- ain't that right, Leticia?"

"Sometimes," Leticia allowed. "Not always."

Boris shrugged. "So. You be nice -- or you wait for Boss. Better you go out, I think. Come." He tugged Leticia's arm gently.

"Right -- like you two aren't going off to fuck," Phillippe scoffed.

Boris wheeled on him. "This is... not certain. But it is also not your business."

"Well, if you are, why can't I have some?" Phillippe whined.

Boris ticked off the reasons on his fingers, "You are not nice to Leticia. She is not being punished. Boss has not said you can." He eyed Phillippe for a moment. "You should stop now. This is not a good thing. I think you have wrong idea; if you bother womans in this house without permission from woman or from the Boss, you will pay for it."

"Yeah, yeah." Phillippe looked pissed -- but he sat back down and looked away. Boris nodded Leticia on up the hall.

In a moment, they entered Leticia's rooms. Leticia, taking stock, found that she was shaking. "That was bad!"

Boris was scowling fiercely. "Phillippe goes too far -- or he will soon. I will speak to Charles, Mr. Jason, Miz Sharon, and the Boss. He must be watched."

"I think so, too," Leticia shuddered. Phillippe had been talking rape -- or gang-bang, at least. Granted, the rules got bent around here, and the women of the house accepted certain behaviors from certain of the males -- but Phillippe was on no one's short list. Apparently, that was the problem...

"If he bothers you..." The look on Boris's face said it all. "You will tell me."

"Yes..." Time to move on. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Da." Boris eyed her sidelong. "Vodka?"

Leticia shook her head, "Sorry."

"Tea? Hot?"

"Okay." Leticia busied herself in her tiny kitchenette, starting a kettle while silence reigned. Finally, turning to him, she asked, "Why don't you say anything?"

Boris shrugged. "I wait. You want to talk."

"It's... hard." Leticia watched the kettle.

"Yes."

She looked up at him, scowling. "I am a free woman!"

"Yes." Arguably, she was not; the Boss held her leash. But if she wanted to pretend...

"Why do you make this so hard?"

"You must take these steps. You have said it -- you are free woman. Only you can change this." He looked about, "You have milk?"

"Yes." Leticia went to her small refrigerator and extracted a carton, smelled it, and returned with it to the counter. Gathering herself, she turned to him, "I wish to negotiate the terms of my surrender."

"Negotiate?" Boris's eyebrows shot up. "What is to negotiate?"

"One or two small things..." Leticia started fiddling with the box of tea bags. "We should both be clear about what we expect. Why don't you tell me what you expect?"

Boris frowned. "First, Boss must approve -- otherwise, not possible. You will be mine -- daytime, nighttime -- all the same. Sex, iron shirts, cook -- everything. I am Boss; you do as I say or be punished. Punishment is whatever I decide. You grow real tits -- get padding for hips -- have babies, nyet?" He grinned. "Little brown babies not problem, eh?"

"No," Leticia agreed. "This is all?"

"I missed something?" Boris replied. "I want EVERYTHING! Is clear?"

"Yes," Leticia nodded. Turning, she popped tea bags into two cups and poured water over them. "Now, may I present my expectations?"

Boris eyed her warily, but waved a hand. Leticia handed him his cup, laid out spoons and sugar next to the milk. "I want to be protected -- treated at least as well as valuable property. I should not have to worry about Phillippe, for instance."

Boris took a moment, pouring milk and squeezing out the tea bag. "What if I do like Boss? Lend you to Phillippe?"

"That is different than Phillippe molesting me," Leticia replied.

"Da." Boris nodded agreement. "You will be used, like tool -- not misused. But I say what is use and what is misuse -- and punishment is special case." He sipped tea. "Agreed?"

"Yes." Leticia nodded.

"Phillippe can use his OWN tools..." Boris growled. "That is all?"

"Ummm, not quite." Leticia steeled herself, then unleashed the torpedo. "About the little brown babies..."

"Yes?"

"I must have them," she insisted. "If we cannot have children, you must release me."

Boris blinked. Upon reflection, this made sense, however -- if he could not father children by her, she would lose respect for him -- that was a given. "Da. How long?"

"One year?" Leticia offered. "Longer, if we go for fertility work, or until a problem is found?"

"Da. Is fair." If he couldn't father a child by her in a year, they would have issues. "You are on birth control?"

"Yes."

"Ninety days for it to flush out. Before year starts."

"Done." She smiled.

"Is all?"

"Almost." She stood watching him.

Boris smelled the trap. "I am waiting."

"My babies... must be legitimate."

"Legi-- WHAT?! You want to be married? You want to marry Boris?" Boris's eyebrows merged with his hairline.

Leticia smiled at the way Boris said 'married'; it came out 'marri- ed'. "Yes. When I am pregnant the first time, I want us to be marri-ed. The children must be legitimate -- otherwise, why bother?"

Boris was examining this from every available angle. "To be wife -- this does not change..."

"No, it doesn't. I will still be what we have talked about to you. There will just be an additional legal dimension." She sipped her tea. "We won't do this until there IS a child -- although I'd like to be married before I show too much."

"If you -- how you say -- miscarry?"

"Well, we would try again..." Leticia gathered herself. "If something happened and I could not bear children, we could divorce." The whole concept left her feeling seriously solemn; divorce would be the least of the blows she would absorb, in that case...

Boris knew this, too -- instinctively. "If is my fault, you are free. If is YOUR fault, you are NOT free -- I think maybe it is better that way, no? You will need things..."

"Okay," she said quietly.

"Okay. Children come, we get married." Boris eyed her. "NOW is all?"

"Yes," Leticia nodded, smiling tremulously, "Is all."

"Do not make fun of Boris," he chided. "English is YOUR first language!"

"Yes, Boris."

"Come here, Little One," He pulled her against him. "Skinny thing." He pushed her back to arms length, having had a thought. "We make agreement? Contract?"

"I trust you."

Boris rubbed his razor stubble. "Married is contract, no?"

"Yes," Leticia agreed. "At that point, maybe we should do a pre- nuptial agreement -- for your protection."

"Da." Boris took a breath. It was too early to get worked up... "Put on clothes -- time to see the Boss."

"All right." Leticia headed for her bedroom. "You, too? I will come to your rooms..."

"Yes. Come to my rooms." Boris slugged back the dregs of his tea, put down the cup, and shuffled out, his mind completely occupied with the turn of events. Married? What would his mother say? His father? His brother? The negress thing was best downplayed -- or maybe not...

"No pussy tonight?" Phillippe chuckled as he passed.

"Eh?" Boris shook his head. "You have no idea." He continued on; worrying about Phillippe was a waste of his resources at this point.

Armand was just settling in for a little recreational surveillance when his intercom lit up. "Boss?"

"Boris?"

"Yes. I -- We -- have urgent matter to discuss."

Armand's eyebrows went up. This place was turning into a three-ring circus... "I'm in my study."

Fifteen minutes later, they were gathered. Leticia had blown by Phillippe as though he wasn't there, fully dressed -- then the pair, both dressed, had ignored him again on the outbound leg -- leaving him extremely curious. He followed, at a distance...