Latoya and Katie

It was nightfall. The guest list was Black, all Black. And each time a guest arrived, Katie opened the door, clad in a demure outfit with a choker. It was clear now that she was owned. That she was a servant to Latoya.

At the end of the evening, Latoya sat in her recliner, talking to her professorial friends. She beckoned Katie forth, and the white beauty knelt for her. Latoya petted her like a dog while she rested her head on her thigh, listening to them drone on about how to achieve equality. From her individual perspective, she accomplished it by subordinating herself to the Black race. But she knew more could be done. Far more.