As I made my way to each person to give them a drink I must have had mybutt grabbed twelve or fifteen times.Marcus stopped me and whispered in my ear,..."I'd love to have yo sissylips wrapped around dis big... black... cock. Yeah, I bet yo mouf isstartin' to water just thinkin' bout dat shit, ain't it bitch."He had is hand around my arm, it may as well have been King Kong's hand,it was so huge.All I could do was look up at him and say, "Yes sir." Yeah," he said "but you gottsta wait fo dis shit.. Why did I feel so uneasy? Whatever my life would be, once I was free again, it would be better than being a slave. Or would it? This thought crept up at me from behind, unanticipated, uninvited and unwelcome, yet suddenly it was there. Did I really, truly, with all my heart, want to be free? Or was there a comfort in being a slave, a quietude, a deep satisfaction, a secret desire fulfilled that I had never been consciously aware of?I chased this thought away. Who in her own sane mind would not. More

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