Chapter 9

"Dani?" My mother blinked at me and then smiled happily, taking me into her arms.

I hadn't told my parents that Mr. Reiser was allowing me to visit them every Sunday afternoon. I'd driven to their house shortly after lunch and I could stay until six or so before I returned to have supper with my Master.

"Hi Mom." I smiled back as we embraced. She wanted to feel me all over, as if I might be injured, or just a mirage possibly.

"Are you okay? How are you? Oh ... Come in! Ben! Dani's here ... Ben!" Mom pulled me into the house and I'd only rang the doorbell to see her face when she opened it.

"I'm fine," I assured her, hoping she wouldn't cry because maybe I would too.

"Look at you!" Mom looked me up and down, taking in my new pink dress and matching pink shoes. I even had a new pink purse, and I'd made myself very pretty for her.

"Mr. Reiser took me shopping yesterday," I told her. "I got my hair done too. Do you like it?"

I'd gotten the ends cut and had my hair straightened and then colored with just a hint of red, barely enough to really notice, but it was there and the eyes saw it even if the mind didn't recognize it, or so the hairdressing told me. I believed him and it looked nice. My dress was modest and attractive and the shoes had low heels with open toes. None of it was overly special, but just nice and feminine and it made me a real girl, unmistakably so, and no one would know otherwise without a close and intimate examination of my body.

"You're beautiful," Mom said, sounding almost awed, and her reaction was all I'd hoped it would be. She'd always wanted a daughter. "My goodness!"

"Dani?" My dad walked in through the kitchen, stopped in his tracks, and then smiled. "Well, aren't you something special? Wow!"

"Wow?" I teased him with a giggle just before he swept me into his strong arms. Daddy hugged me and kissed my cheeks, and it felt good to be home again.

"No. He's very nice, Mom," I told my parents while we sat in the kitchen. She'd been asking a lot of questions about my Master.

She insisted on feeding me too, although I could eat very little. The doctor had already put me on a strict diet.

"I was so worried about you," she told me. "The way he just ... took you."

"I know." I reached for hand. "He's been kind and generous. Oh jeeze..." I giggled and rolled my eyes. "I think I love him, I swear."

"Just don't expect him to love you back, Dani," my father said, and I nodded at that. But really, I suspected Mr. Reiser already loved me quite a bit more than my parents would ever believe.

"He hasn't ... hurt you or anything?" Mom asked carefully, and I shook my head.

"No, of course not," I told her truthfully. "I'm being good, you know that."

"Oh, I know," she agreed. "But some of them, well ... Just be careful and do what he tells you."

"How's that new school?" Dad asked.

"You know about that?" I looked at him.

"Mr. Reiser mentioned it to me the other day," he said with a shrug.

"It's ... Okay." I made a little face. "It's different."

"Are they giving you a hard time?" Mom asked. She'd always been concerned about people teasing me or whatever, it's why they'd spent so much money to send me to a private school all those years.

"The other kids?" I asked, and she nodded. "Some of them, you know, but not too bad."

It was a small lie, but a necessary one. I was having a harder time than I'd admit, even to my Master; the girls wouldn't accept me and the boys, some of them, just wanted sex or they'd beat me up. They were a bunch of dumb niggers so far as I was concerned and the teachers knew about it, but didn't try and stop it or anything. I was a sissy fag in the eyes of the principal and his faculty, and they figured I deserved whatever I got. There wasn't anything I could do about it and I didn't complain, not even to Mr. Reiser when he'd occasionally ask me about school.

"You just study hard, dear," Mom decided. "Don't pay any attention to those slaveborn fools."

"They shouldn't be in school anyway," Dad grumped, and the truth was that freeborn blacks were rather prejudiced, but we had good reason to be.

"Does Mr. Reiser have any other slaves, Dani?"

"Just one. Mercy, she's pretty nice," I replied. "She's old and been with him since Mr. Reiser was born, I think."

"Oh. Well, that's good then," Mom said, smiling because she didn't want me all by myself, I'm sure.

"No other girls though?" Dad asked. "No, uh ... boys?"

"No!" I laughed lightly. "Just me."

"Huh." He smiled back. "I guess that makes you special then, Princess."

"Yeah!" I agreed. "He gave me that car. Did you see it? And Wednesday we're going to the hospital."

"The hospital?" Mom's eyes grew large at that news. "Why? Are you sick?"

"No. I'm fine," I said with a big smile. "I'm going to get breasts."

"You are?" She blinked with surprise.

"Breasts?" Dad gave me a look. "Uh, what about the rest of you?"

"The rest of me? Oh!" I laughed and looked down with a little shrug. "He, uh, Mr. Reiser likes that part of me, so..."

"So you're not going to ... Okay." He licked his lips and nodded. I'm not sure if he was relieved by the news that I was going to keep my penis and balls, or not. Sometimes I thought he'd be more comfortable if I was as much a real girl as possible.

"That'll be nice," Mom smiled uncertainly at her husband. "Right?"

"Yeah, well, um ... She's a girl." Dad shrugged. "Mostly, so..."

"It's weird, I know." I made a face. "I'm pretty excited though. I hope they're nice."

"I'm sure they'll be perfect." My mom accepted the news quickly, as she should have. I mean, my parents had really gone out of their way to turn me into a girl in the first place.

I honestly don't know if I would have been a sissy fag if my parents had raised me like a real son instead of a daughter. Probably I would have still been a girl, since I'm so pretty anyway, but maybe not. Are people born that way? Who knows for sure because you can't try it both ways, right? I'd grown up in dresses and playing with dolls and being called by a girlish nickname. Did any of that influence my appearance? Maybe, but I still would have been pretty. Even as a heterosexual boy, I'd have grown up beautiful, not handsome, and so I'd gotten lucky, in my opinion. I was a girl inside and very nearly one on the outside, except for that small biological contradiction between my legs, and that was hardly important.

"Here, um ... I have something for you." Mom had gone upstairs for a few minutes and when she came back she carried some jewelry.

"What's that?" I wondered, glancing at Daddy, but he only shrugged.

"I was saving this until you were older, but this is a good time," she said with a smile. "This was my mother's engagement ring."

"Grammy's? Really?" I blinked rapidly and took the small gold ring from her; it had a real diamond, maybe half a carat, no more than that. So it wasn't really fancy, but it had been my grandmother's.

"Yeah, and she wanted you to have it."

"Actually, she wanted you to give it to your fiancé, if you ever had one," Daddy said with a chuckle.

"Well, she never really understood." Mom shrugged. "And this was hers too. It's got your grandfather's picture in it."

She handed me a small gold locket and I opened it carefully, seeing a small heart shaped photo of a man I only barely remembered.

"You can put a different picture in it," she said, but of course I promised I wouldn't and that pleased her.

"And, this is ... Was mine..." She smiled at me. "My mom gave it to me when I was about your age and so I'm giving it to you."

"Oh! Mom!" I smiled as she gave me a small bracelet, gold with some little charms dangling from it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, dear." She leaned over so I could hug her and then helped me put the bracelet on.

It wasn't an expensive one or anything, just a 14 karat gold bracelet and a light one at that, but it was something to be passed down and that made it special. It couldn't compare to the jewelry Mr. Reiser allowed me to wear when we went out, but this was better. It was mine and my mother had worn it, my grandmother, and I smiled so much it hurt.

"It looks nice," Dad decided, and I gave him a hug too, just because I loved them both.

Later, we had to say goodbye and that was hard, but made easier when I told them I could come over every Sunday afternoon. My mom seemed especially pleased by that, and impressed by Mr. Reiser's generosity, I thought. Most masters went the other way, deliberately breaking family ties where they could, just to assure the dependence of their slaves maybe, or to assert their own authority, I don't know. Allowing me to spend time with my parents was better and didn't undermine my respect for the man at all, it only increased it and I was again reminded by how fortunate I really was.

"Shoooooot..." I bit my lip as I saw flashing blue lights in my rearview mirror.

I wasn't speeding or anything, I knew that, and I hadn't gone through any red lights. I was frightened, of course, nobody wants to be pulled over by the police, but especially not a young slave driving alone. How many horror stories had I heard that started out with a young black girl being stopped by the police. They were all just stories, I was sure, but still, there's an instinctive fear in all black people for authority, for policemen and uniforms, and I had no rights under the law. There could be no such as thing as an illegal search or police brutality or unlawful arrest. Those were for white people and to a certain extent, freeborn blacks, and I was neither of those. Not any more.

"I need your registration and proof of insurance. Do you have a license?" the policeman asked me without any preamble or niceties. He was big and white and dressed impeccably in black with a big gun at his hip.

"Yes sir," I answered promptly.

"I need that too," he told me. "What's your civil status?"

"I'm owned." I swallowed hard, opening the glove compartment and finding the paperwork the policeman wanted and my hands were shaking.

"Let me have your left arm," he said, ignoring the papers I held out for him.

He had a small scanner and it illuminated my tattoo, reading the data. Now that the paperwork had been filed, all my information would show up on his computer, or whatever he had in his police car. After scanning me, he took the papers and left me to sit there while he returned to his car and did whatever it is policemen do. He'd check to make sure the car wasn't stolen, I guess, and registered and insured properly, and then look to see if I was a runaway or whatever. So many things to check and I was terrified that some bit of information would be wrong somewhere. I'd be arrested and detained and interrogated and...

"Here's your paperwork." He was back five minutes later. "Step out of the car now."

It wasn't a request and my heart tried to stop as I stared at him for a second and then nodded quickly.

"Yes sir." I opened the door and I wasn't going to ask a single question. I wouldn't give him any excuse to hurt or arrest me.

I followed him to the back of my car, standing on the shoulder of the road and traffic was light anyway.

"Are you Daniel Richardson, black, age sixteen, male, and in the proper custody of Mr. H.L. Reiser of Memphis, Tennessee?" The policeman spoke slowly and clearly, looking between me and his notepad, and I nodded.

"Yes sir," I said softly.

"I'm going to search your person, Daniel," he told me, and I knew immediately the only reason was because I looked like a girl.

"Yes sir," I answered, since no other response was remotely possible.

He put me against the trunk of the Mercedes, my hands against the cool metal and my legs spread in my pink dress. He jerked my hips backward too, so that I had to lean forward, and if I lifted my hands I had no place to go but flat on my face. I bit my lip as he stood close behind me, close enough that I felt the man's pelvis against my ass as he ran his fingers very slowly through my hair, down my neck and over my shoulders. He kept grinding himself against me all the while, his penis hardening noticably beneath his uniform, and I felt my face warming with humiliation.

The policeman moved his hands to my chest, pressing against my blouse and bra, and my nipples beneath. He held me like that much longer than he needed to, squeezing me with his hands, rubbing me while he moved his hips. The whole time, he said nothing and I only tried to breathe slowly and stay calm. He could take me back to his police station and do a strip search, hold me there as long as he wanted before calling my Master to come get me.

His hands finally moved down to my flat tummy and he felt my waist and hips, and then down again, feeling my crotch. I shut my eyes tightly as his strong hand found my cock and balls through my skirt and panties. He squeezed my testicles hard, making me gasp, and my knees sagged and then he let me go, moving his hands to the front of my bare thighs and down as far as my knees.

That was far enough to get beneath the hem of my skirt and his hands traveled back up slowly, this time against my naked skin. He lifted the pink material in the front and I shook uncontrollably with fear as he felt my thighs, and then his hands went back to my panties, just as I'd known they had to. That's what he wanted, to touch me and humiliate and frighten me. To rape me.

"You like this, Daniel," the policeman didn't ask, massaging my penis through the soft satin of my white bikini underwear. I wasn't sexually excited, not really, but fear and humiliation and his strong hands ... I became hard for him and that made it worse.