The negro slave girl looked up into his eyes trying to find a sign of approval from her master."So you're a nigger now, are you?" he asked as he fucke... her tits."Yes, suh, Massa," she replied. "I's a nigga now. Yo' nigga." My nigger, huh?" he mused. "And what would I do with a fucking nigger?" The bed creaked in time to his strokes."Anything, Massa," she answered. "I's yo' nigga. You kin do anything wit' yo' nigga. An' I do whatever you say." You like having your tits fucked this way, nigger?". I keep trying to feel used or manipulated, and I keep looking for dark motivations in Kathryn’s encouragement, but the truth is that I can’t manage either. Even if it never happens again, it was a hell of an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon. Better yet, Kathryn finally has a coconspirator, as I do with Wendy. Granted, both of them are wary coconspirators — Wendy very much so — but it’s good to know that, if Kathryn actually needs to talk to someone about us, there’s a person who could listen. From that moment on, I had his approval to see Chrissie. I did explain that it would not be often, as I had to apply myself to my studies. He nodded gravely. "You are perfectly correct, young man. Study and get your degree. There is plenty of time later for socializing."Years later I realized that I did then what barristers do all the time. I persuaded Mr. Ames to see all the positives in the same way that I persuaded juries to look at the evidence that favoured my client. I wasn't deceiving. Laugh all you want, but it was kind of romantic, Joey leaning back against a wall of books in just his jeans, wolfing down Cheetos and a ham and cheese, while I leaned up against him, his legs to either side of me, in just my underwear, content as I nibbled on a cucumber sandwich, making a point to keep my pinky outstretched for the sole reason that it made me giggle. “Poshest tart in all of England, you are,” he jested, earning him a playful elbow in the ribs. “You just ruined your chances.