.Yeah, just the collar. I know, being a black woman, 'slave' ought to be a dirty word -- but to me, it wasn't. To me, the whole idea of being a slave ...rought excitement! I was soaking my panties, sitting there in that chair thinking about what Jack had ALREADY ordered me to do!I was pretty sure little Frieda had my number -- and that made her the first. Boyfriends had worked around it, but they hadn't gotten it; even Nate, my missing husband, just thought it was dumb luck that I didn't bitch. I heard him stop swimming, and with my back to him, I purposely bent over gracefully to arrange the chair, and I was acutely conscious of his eyes taking in my incredible feminine form. I wondered if the sight of me, my bikini panties peeking out from under my towel showing my delightfully shaped bottom, was having the effect on him I wanted it to. I turned around and found him uncharacteristically gawking at me. Ron was usually a man of the utmost discretion, but seeing him standing in the. More

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