Bianca Goads Jacob

There was a presumptuousness, a brazen greediness to Jacob Pennies, that I found most distasteful. Being in his presence rattled... no, revolted me. Seeing him was like seeing a spider crawling across the ceiling or a rat's glowing eyes peering from the darkness. Part of it was the fear of being attacked, but the larger part was disgust with creature itself.

I decided to test him and perhaps have a bit of fun at his expense. If he was the rat, I was the cat, and I felt it was important that he understand our roles before we went any further.

After motioning for him to sit down, I struck a casual but authoritative pose, leaning my arms back against the table he wished to "assess" me on. Looking down at him with a clear disdain, I began. "I'm sure that in your so-called 'profession' you are used to handling a wide variety of dark-skinned wenches. But the women I will be bringing you from Boston will be fair skinned, with smooth complexions and silky hair. Most have no overt signs of being negro, and several are actually blonde, all over. They are the daughter's of Boston's finest, and know how to play instruments, and perhaps Latin or Greek. Are you prepared to deal with women who socially, economically, and intellectually superior to you?"

I tried to make my tone as insulting as possible, to see if I might amuse myself by getting a rise out of him. I could tell I irked him, but following the Judge's lead, he clenched his teeth and played along. "I think I could handle 'em, Miss." he said tightly.

"Could you really?" I said. Raising my toe at him I made his place clear. "In Boston, a man like you couldn't get a job cleaning the horse dung off a ladies boots."

Judge Roberts stifled a laugh, whereas Mr. Thorton seemed puzzled as to why I was being so insulting. Jacob, glaring fire up at me, answered tightly. "Oh, I can handle them all right, Miss. I know their sort. The quadroons who come in here, thinkin' their pussies don't stink. The octoroons, raise white, who discover when their precious fathers died that their stepmother or their uncle are only too happy to have me fill out the paperwork to brand their pampered assess and put 'em on block. They come in here all hoity-totity, but after I take the crop to their behinds, and put them up on the table, they lather up real nice, like the hot little monkeys they are."

"It sounds like you enjoy humiliating them," I observed. "Does it excite you?"

"It does, Miss," he admitted. "Nothing wrong with a man enjoying his work. Makes me a better business partner, knowing I like my job."

I tapped my toe thoughtfully on the floor, as if weighing his fitness. I knew that I was tapping on the records of countless young women, doubtlessly some fairer than myself, who had been **** to kneel naked on the table I was leaning against. I knew the riding crop was behind me, and I could see the handles of the various branding irons poking out of the blazing fire.

"I must say that I have never considered going into business with someone with your, shall we say, background, Jacob. Still, as this is a business where you literally sell a pound of flesh, I imagine it is well suited to your people, who value gold above all else."

Judge Roberts knew what I was implying and looked a bit uncomfortable. Still, he did not disagree, or spring to Jacob's defense, but rather rose, and looked out the window, as if I was discussing a matter beneath him. In truth, I didn't care about Jacob Pennies ancestry, but before I submitted to any examination by him, I wanted to make it abundantly clear that although I might be the daughter of an African **** so fair-skinned that we could pass for Italian, he was still on a lower rung of the social ladder than I.

Jacob clenched his teeth and balled his hands into fists. I smiled, for he had thought himself in charge of the situation, and it pleased me to remind him of his place. "If we are to enter into a business arrangement, Jacob, I must insist that you recognize my authority and treat me with the respect I am due. You will address me as Miss DiFlorentini, and you will avoid direct eye contact, and defer to me in all matters. Judge Roberts and Mr. Thorton are my equals; you are not. You will avoid eye contact with me and treat me with the respect I am due."

Jacob Pennies was outraged, but as he opened his mouth he looked at Judge Roberts. The Judge gave Jacob a stern look and nodded. "Yes, Miss Diflorentini, I understand, Ma'am," he said, his eyes lowered.

"This does raise a conundrum," Mr. Thornton said. If Miss Diflorentini is to be assessed, Jacob must treat her as if she were a **** girl, and **** girls are not treated with respect. Quite the opposite."

"Excellent point," Judge Roberts said. "Perhaps for purposes of this hypothetical, if might make sense for Bianca to assume another identity, rather like a legal form of personation," he said, stroking his chin. "For purposes of your inspection today, let's take advantage of your Italian heritage. There was a traveling carnival that came through the last year, that had a chimp named Bimba. Let's call you that."

"A chimp name," Mr. Pennies said, clearly amused at the idea. "Seems appropriate enough, seeing as how the girls we inspect here are all monkeys, anyway."

"I'm not a monkey!" I protested.

Judge Roberts smiled. "It's purely legalese, my dear, a term of art. Now, we shall turn our backs, and when we turn around, Bianca will be gone, and Bimba will be undressed, and ready for her legal assessment."

I expected Mr. Thornton might come to my rescue, but the bulge in his pants made it clear he was as excited as the other two at the prospect of my humiliation.

The men all turned and faced the fire. I could see that Jacob Pennies had positioned himself to see my reflection in the window. I moved to the side of the table to get out of his view, causing him to frown. I paused and looked at the wicked riding crop on the empty inspection table, and the branding iron handles poking out of the fire. I knew Jacob Pennies enjoyed humiliating proud young woman like me, who had "passed" as white. Furthermore, I had deliberately goaded him, and made it clear that he was far, far beneath all of us. I knew he wouldn't go easy on me. From the bulges in their trousers, none of them would.

Sensing my hesitation, Judge Roberts walked to the fireplace to adjust one of the branding heads. "Come now, Bianca, are we going into business, or not? I have court today, and I can't spend all day waiting for Bimba to make here appearance." I bit my lip, trying to make my decision. The thought of putting myself under the command of an evil flesh peddler like Jacob Pennies was both terrifying and mortifying. Yet, in spite of but also precisely because of that it also made me squeeze my thighs together with raw, sexual excitement.