Bianca Undresses for a Full "Assessment"

A woman can always find reasons to do things that she knows she shouldn't do, when she really wants to do them. I told myself that this was necessary for me to test our business plan, and to fully understand the practices and procedures that I would utilize to send the so-called "high society" ladies of Boston who had so cruelly snubbed me to their doom.

I was not foolish enough to trust Jacob Pennies, the flesh peddling slime who would be all too glad to slip me into a collar, and brand my bottom, forever marking me as a ****. However I told myself that I was safe, for Mr. Thornton was here, and he would protect me. Judge Roberts, I knew, would protect the upcoming profits I could bring him, which was the same thing.

I told myself that this ordeal would give me the psychological insights necessary for me to understand how the daughters of the Boston Brahim would respond to being stripped naked and collared, so I could anticipate their reactions and cut off any possible escape routes they might try. After all, some of the girls, cruel as they were, were quite clever, and quite adept at talking themselves out of situations. Countless times I'd seen them charm their fathers, suitors, or even police or judges, and get away with crimes that would have earned a **** girl a sound flogging.

How better to know if a chute was properly greased than to slide down it myself? The fact that I would be sliding down the chute absolutely naked was unfortunate, but it was necessary for authenticity. Mr. Thorton had already seen me naked, and had bedded me, and Judge Roberts and Jacob Pennies were in the business of setting the value of female flesh. It was no different than going to the doctor, really.

In truth, all of the reasons added up to the fact that I was too excited not to do it. I trusted the Judge's greed and Mr. Thornton's decency sufficiently to take the chance. After all, how often does a young woman from Boston have the chance to play at being a mixed race **** girl?

"Is there a place where I... I mean, Bimba, can change?" I asked, remembering that I would be merely playing a role.

"You can strip off right here!" Mr. Pennies snapped. "I don't cotton to fancies acting all white in this office."

Judge Roberts smiled indulgently. "Jacob, I do believe there is a store room in the back that will suit our purposes, and will give Miss DiFlorentini a place to wait while we inspect that little slut Bimba. I wouldn't want to shock such a gracious lady of Boston with the sorted business of assessing a naked **** bitch."

Jacob muttered something, but a stern look from Judge Roberts caused him to produce the key to open the storeroom door. I smiled at him as I sashayed in, maintaining my lady-like pose. "Remember to tell Bimba to take everything off, Bianca," Judge Roberts said in a voice that was firm but not unpleasant. "And have her be quick about it. I need to get back to court, and Mr. Pennies and Mr. Thorton have businesses to run."

The idea that my naked humiliation was an agenda item, a task that needed to be completed, on their busy schedules, was strangely exciting. This would be a life changing transformation for me, but merely another day at the office for them. My last image of the room as the door closed was Judge Roberts at the fireplace. He had removed one of the branding heads and was blowing on, causing it to glow orange. My bottom cheeks clenched in terror, even as the closing door hid my worst fears from view.

The lock on the storage room door CLICKED shut loudly. The only light came from a barred window far above my head. As the room was crowded with boxes and I was afraid of whatever might want to munch on paper in such a place I undressed myself as quickly as possible. I hesitated when I got to my broach, but decided that if Bimba the **** girl would not have the broach, than neither would I. There was no mirror, but I let my hair down, letting it fall loose upon my shoulders. I wasn't expecting to appear before a man like this, except on my wedding night, but here I was, about to appear before THREE of them, for the purpose of having my body assessed for sale. It was beyond humiliating, and as I reached between my legs to wipe away the moisture I realized how much the shame of all this was exciting me. I was dripping wet, but needed to remove the evidence of arousal, lest my bodies involuntary reaction to the extraordinary events of the day serve as judicial proof that I was nothing more than a wet between the legs **** monkey.

After returning myself to my lady like state, and letting my hair down so that it flowed loosely around my shoulders, I reached for the doorknob. Seeing the light on my bare arm, I hesitated. My skin was dark, and although one might, with some plausibility, blame the darkness of my face and hands on the South Carolina sun, that did not explain why the rest of me was tan. Abagail, who had seen me naked when I bathed at her house in Boston, called me "her little brown sausage", a nickname that stuck, much to my embarrassment. Indeed, my elite girlfriends would sometimes use my skin color to embarrass me, when they felt I was getting more attention than they were.

"This gravy is lovely, Mrs. Porter. So light and delicious. It's almost the same color as Bianca's skin."

"Your dress is the most brilliant shade of white, Bianca. Although it does look a bit darker with you in it."

I steeled myself to the examination, knowing that whatever embarrassment I endured would be felt 10 fold by my lily white Boston girlfriends. They wouldn't look so haughty when they were stripped naked, as I was now. Swallowing hard, I opened the door, and without giving myself the chance to turn back stepped into the room.

I was greeted by a surprised silence. For a moment, I thought they did not recognize me. This was not surprising, as I did not recognize myself. Bianca, the young lady from Boston, had stepped through the door, but it was Bimba, the naked **** wench who needed to be graded, registered, and assessed, who had stepped out. Mr. Thornton, who had seen me naked when we were lovers, looked at me with entirely fresh eyes. Again, it was not entirely surprising, for in this place, at this moment, I was a different person.

"I'll be damned," Mr. Thornton said.

Jacob Pennies let out a long slow whistle. "I was damned a long time ago, boy. But between now and the time I meet the Devil, I'm gonna make me some fine coin selling this uppity bitch's sweet chocolate pussy."

"She looks browner than I thought she'd be," Judge Roberts said. "From a legal standpoint, I could sign the papers right now."

I shuddered at the suggestion, but felt a tingle in my pussy. With a flick of his pen, Judge Roberts could rivet an iron collar around my neck, and burn a brand onto my ass. My eyes immediately flew the to handle of the branding iron, protruding from the fireplace.

"Turn around, girl," Jacob Pennies said. "Slowly, in a circle. And put your hands out at your sides. Don't be covering up like your some kind of lady. We gotta see what ya' got."

I struggled to breathe as I turned in a very slow circle, moving my feet only slightly, so the men could take a moment to see me from every position. I had detested Jacob Pennies from the moment I had met him, but now, submerged into the role of Bimba the naked **** girl, I feared and respected his expertise and authority. If I was to be sold, his cruel assessment would determine if I'd live my life as a pampered fancy girl, an overseer's plaything, a breeding bitch, or a belabored field worker. I was sorry I had goaded him, for I feared punishment, but was glad for it, for I knew he would show me no mercy now, and treat me as any other **** girl.

After I did a full circle I stopped, only to have Pennies point his riding crop at me. "Did I tell you stop turning, girl?" he said, shaking the wicked looking crop in a way that caused the lash to dance in the air. "You turn till I tell you otherwise!" he snapped.

I resumed turning, my excitement and fear growing with each passing moment as the men ogled my nakedness. I could feel my humanity fading away, as everyone in the room ogled the naked body of Bimba the **** girl, and wondered what price she might fetch on the block.

"Should we put her up on the table, Judge?" Pennies said. "Up on all fours, for a full examination, I mean."

Deferring, the smiling Judge Roberts looked at Robert Thornton, my friend, and lover.

Where I expected to see sympathy in his eyes, I saw only lust. As I slowly turned to face him Mr. Thornton looked at me, tilting his head as he awaited my signal. A little shake of my head was all it would take to free me from this nightmare of shame and humiliation, but my real fear was that I would never be this excited again. But did I dear submit to a "hands on" examination?