Robert wants to fuck 'Bimba'

Dear Diary, (May 24th, afternoon)

I finally have worked up the nerve to describe how Robert turned on me and how badly my body betrayed me. When I was finally alone again with in the office, I could feel the rising need building once again between my legs. I badly needed Robert to fill me with his manhood to wipe away the humiliation of Jacob Pennies' rough hands on my soft body.

"Thank-you Robert, for your-" Robert stopped me with a raised hand. It was a subtle gesture, but a powerful one and I felt my knees buckle at the way he took control.

"You let that odious man fondle you like a piece of meat." Robert observed quietly, it was true but a cruel thing to say all the same.

"I had to, Robert." I trembled as the man I thought my confident stared at me with a combination of desire and contempt. "You know that ... you took me to see Pennies and the Judge." I tried to take him in my arms, but he pushed me away.

"I wonder if deep inside you are truly more 'Bimba' the nigga pleasure **** or Bianca the gentlewoman from Philadelphia?" The degrading words struck like a bull whip across my back.

"Robert, It's me, Bianca. I love you." Those were the first time I said the words aloud, but Mr. Thornton just laughed and spun me around so I was pinned between him and the hard wooden desk. His hands roamed over my body, not lovingly like I was used to but with a cruel possessive touch much like Pennies had when he had pointed out my many mixed-race qualities to Judge Roberts.

"Sometimes a man doesn't want a lover." I felt him pulling roughly at the ties in the back of my dress, "sometimes a man just wants to fornicate like a beast with a nigga cunt." At this point I should have pulled away from Mr. Thornton's grasp (he was hardly my Robert at the time). I should have slapped him like I slapped Manton and sent him packing, but after my degrading treatment in the assessor's office all I could think about was the filthy need inside my core.

"Ooohh, damn you, Robert." I moaned as I let him pull down my bodice and grope my breasts, "this isn't right ..." the words rang hollow. Not only did I not even try to pull his groping hands away, but I could also feel my nipples hardening just like they had with Pennies.

"That's 'Massah Thornton' or 'Sir' when I'm fucking your brown cunt, Bimba." Oh no! Too late I remembered the excitement in my dear sweet Robert's eyes when walked back naked in the persona of the **** with the monkey name. I never thought a man would prefer a mixed-blood mulatto to a pure European female, but that's what Robert wanted - a nigga to fuck as he liked. The surge of excitement was as humiliating as the way my 'Massah' repeated Pennies' degrading assessment of my body. When he found the dark stubble in my armpits he laughed aloud.

"I bet if we let your pits grow out they'd be as wooly as you fuzz down here." His hand roughly grabbed my mons, and I almost fainted I was so turned on. I honestly don't know if he was right, my mother had trained me from a young age to shave the hair in my pits and on my legs regularly. She told me that men prefer their women soft and smooth...

I didn't have time to wonder about the truth in that because I was pushed down on the polished wood of my father's desk with my legs lifted high and Mr. Thornton pushed into me with a grunt of primal satisfaction. As he slammed into me, he called me 'Bimba' and 'Monkey' and 'nigga girl', and many other nasty slurs that I had never heard spoken aloud, and when he slapped my ass as he rode me, I came harder than ever before. Just like I was his nigga breeding girl.

There, I have recorded this ... even took the time to visualize what Mr. Thornton might have seen as he fucked me. I may rip out this page tomorrow, but for now I have recorded the events and my shame honestly. It is hard to imagine that my lover would prefer a mixed-blood **** to the sophisticated gentlewoman of Italian descent that he believed me to be, but perhaps he sees me as I really am ... maybe that is what I want.

Now, with this shameful confession, even more damning than anything I've written before, I can never let this journal fall into the wrong hands.