’ Sarcasm bites deep. ‘Can we just talk about it?’ ‘I’m TIRED of talking about it. I want you to actually DO something about it!’ Anger…...anger… a little bit of a snap wrapped around a desperate plea. Trying to keep patience… ‘What?! What do you want me to do???’ ‘You know.’ quietly. tiredly. ‘What? You want me to be all over you in public?’ voice rising, ‘you want to show everyone how you OWN me?’ ‘STOP YELLING AT ME!’ pleading look, tears well up… in return anger. ‘STOP TRYING TO CONTROL ME!’. The previous evening Jennifer had taken Kimberly hunting. They had spent the night at our hunting "high camp." At dawn Jennifer planned to stake out at a well-marked water hole she had found. At dusk I had watched the pair depart. A regal Jennifer leading and Kimberly, burdened by spears and other equipment, close behind.The next morning they returned in triumph. I had seen them emerge from the jungle with their prize suspended from a pole they carried between them. We always slaughtered a. I told her I did and I never wanted to back to white guys. Then I asked her if she had ever been with a black guy. She said she never had and she asked me if black guys are really better. I told her they were and some are even better. I asked her if she wanted to try it out. She said she didn't want to. I told her that yeah she did and I could tell it. She admitted she wanted to but she didn't know where to find a black guy. I knew it was her lunch hour and I told her she could get some in 10. ...John said he felt let down. That hurt more than any thrashing she was to receive. He loved her but she had to obey by the rules they had agreed. One captain in the relationship. One head...One leader. She knew what to do next. John ordered her upstairs to wait for him in his study. To take off all her clothes below her waist. To be quiet and face the corner. He needed to calm down. He wouldn't punish her while he was angry. John arrived shortly afterwards and sat in his big armchair by the.