Mark Townsend - White captive

Duke smiled at her and Susan dropped her head back to the floor. She leaned more heavily against the wall where he had left her, and drew her arms around her breasts. They hung loose and partly exposed from a large tear in the upper part of her dress caused by their struggles in the car. Her bra was gone along with her panties, and she felt naked and vulnerable to their stares as they waited for her answer to Shorty's question.

She stood silent and did not speak.

"I asked ya a question, baby," he suddenly spat at her and walked to her side.

Still Susan did not move or make a sound, even though her heart was lodged tightly in her throat in fear.

The loud sound of a hard slap suddenly echoed through the room, as the negro who had just so brutally raped her, swung his arm in a wide arc and brought the palm of his hand down hard across her face.

"Now, you jist answer when I ask ya sumpin', baby, or next time it's gonna be worse."

"W-What do you want from me?" she managed to finally stammer out through the thin stream of tears it brought to her eyes.

"I just asked if you was gonna take care 'o us, and I want the answer loud and clear for the boys."

"Y'Yes," she finally said quietly. She could see the cold cruel glint in his black eyes, and knew that any sigh of resistance right now would only bring further pain and indignities from him. He was the leader of this gang, and could not under any circumstances run the risk of being stood up against in front of them. They worshiped strength and she sensed that if he lost his prestige in this matter with them, that he would lose all. It was again, the old tale of the male lions fighting for leadership of the "pride", and the women that went with it. There was only one law that applied, and that was the law of the jungle, pure and simple.

"That's a good lil' honky chick. We gonna make a good honky outta ya yet, jist to show these boys that the only good honky, ain't a dead one. Ain't that, right."

Duke smiled arrogantly down at her and tweeked her cheek with his thumb and forefinger. Susan nodded her head dejectedly in agreement.

"Awright, Coke, show 'er the kitchen, man. She's gonna have to earn 'er keep here for a few days, in more ways than one. And, make 'er clean it good."

He grabbed her arm and shoved her towards the tall thin negro who had been driving the car, and she let herself be led to the kitchen without a struggle. There was no longer any sense in the hopeless resistance she had put up at first. Her only chance for even staying alive now was to keep close to Duke. She was certain his hard outward approach to her was an act to show the others that he could be cold and cruel, for he seemed to have developed a sense of protectiveness toward her that might keep the others away – for a little while anyway.

The kitchen was a mess and looked like it had not been used for a long time. The sink was filled to the brim with dirty molding dishes and the dusty shelves were almost bare except for an assortment of rusting cans of beans and soup. Coke inspected the door that led out to the back, making certain the padlock attached to it was still secure so there could be no chance for her to escape.

"Now you do what Duke done said to do and don't try nuthin' that might be crazy. He might git mad and you ain't never seen nobody as wild as him when he's mad."

Susan nodded in assent and limply began her task of cleaning up the mess. The odor from the dishes almost made her sick, but under Coke's watchful gaze, she soon had them soaking in hot water that she had heated on an old wood-burning stove. On a command from Duke in the living room, Coke stepped outside and returned a few minutes later carrying a large box of groceries.

"Duke says you're to git us some supper. And, make it quick," he added with an authority of his own.

"W-What can I fix," she asked with a slight tremble in her voice. It was the first time she had spoken to any of them except when she had been forced to. She could hardly bring herself to do it, but knew she must, or risk facing the wrath of Duke again. She dared not alienate him completely or he might be forced to show his control over her by letting the others take advantage of her as he had done. Susan vowed to herself that she would rather die-and would do all in her power to avoid being used in that way again.

"Fry them pork chops," Coke answered her question after a few moments thought. "Duke likes 'em."

Susan bent to her task with as much strength as she could gather after the horrible beating her muscles had taken. She was a bit surprised though, that the soreness between her legs was not more acute, considering the ravishment she had undergone. She had done a lot of horseback riding when her father was alive, and perhaps that had loosened her for the final assault that the idiotic Stitch had subjected her to with his fingers.

This was the first time the thought had come to her mind since they left the car. She had been in a complete state of shock since the negroes had first grabbed her, and now even though her consciousness was beginning to clear, she still could not recall all the bitter details of what had happened or why it had happened. She was certain of one thing. She could never forgive her mother again for as long as she lived, for it was her mother who was responsible for her being here at the mercy of this cruel group of criminals.

Why had they used her like this? Sheer lust couldn't be the answer unless they were absolute animals, and the thought was gradually sinking into her mind that perhaps they were. She had not known many negroes, but those she did know were no different than all of her other friends. Why then, this sudden bitter attack on her body, and the use of the name "honky" as a derogatory word toward her? What were they trying to accomplish by all of this brutality?

"Hey man, where's the food," her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Duke's complaining voice from the living room. "You been out there thirty minutes."

"She's gittin' it. Don't worry none," Coke answered from his chair in the corner where he had been sitting patiently watching Susan at work. Though she hadn't looked at him at all during the entire time she had been working, she knew very well his eyes were glued tightly to her almost entirely visible body beneath the tattered gown she was wearing. It had been ripped and torn in so many places that there was very little material left to cover her completely nude body hiding beneath. While she had been getting the pork chops ready, she concentrated on keeping her arm pinned down to the side of her left breast, so it wouldn't fall out in front of Coke. She knew this would be fatal. They were already all worked up so bad by watching Duke rape her in the back seat of the car, that it wouldn't take much to set them off again.

"You 'bout ready, baby," Coke asked impatiently after watching her turning the pork chops, trying to get them to cook faster.

"Yes, they're ready now," she said limply, after a last look into the frying pan.

"Okay, baby. Where ya want it, Duke?" he yelled loudly through the doorway.

"Here," he answered with a laugh.

"You hear 'im, baby. Go to it, and bring all the forks an' knives."

"All right, but it's going to take a minute," she answered coldly. Not only had their leader ravished her young helpless body until she could hardly walk, but now they were turning her into their servant to wait on them too.

"Here, I'll take 'em," Coke said impatiently and grabbed the stack of dishes she had collected from her hands. "You jist git the food in heah, right now," he commanded.

Susan hurried as fast as she could in the dim light of the kerosene lamp, carrying a plate of pork chops in one hand and a bowl of beans in the other. Coke had placed the plates in their places around the table, and she went from one to the other dishing out their portions. It was the first time she had really had an opportunity to see all of them clearly; now, she could feel a cold harsh chill running quickly up the length of her spine as she studied the four negroes who were holding her prisoner.