would certainly be rough. If she was broken in already, it would be easier for her. It was philanthropy.
“Tillie, come here a minute!”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Paul.”
“Go tell mama Bessie to come here a minute.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, as she headed out of the room. Paul quickly walked over to the desk, scribbled some gibberish on a piece of paper and put it in an envelope. He put a wax seal on it to insure the gibberish wasn’t discovered by Bessie. He didn’t think she would peek, but Paul trusted no one.
He walked into the middle of the room as Bessie entered.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Paul. How may I be of assistance to you?”
Paul noticed that she lad learned the correct response to a master’s request. She had learned her lessons well. Perhaps Tillie would also learn to follow directions.
“Bessie, I have an important letter that must be mailed today. How long would it take you to walk to the post office?”
“Well, sir, I believe I can do it in a bit over one hour and an hour to get back.”
“Bessie, I will sure appreciate this.” He rummaged in his pocket.
“I’m giving you this extra two dollar bonus now in case you happen to do any window shopping on the way to the post office.” He winked at her.
“Thank you, sir, for your generosity.” Bessie took the letter and turned to Tillie. “Come on, honey, walk with your mama and keep her some company.”
Paul quickly interrupted. “Uh, Bessie, if you don’t mind, could you leave Tillie here to finish dusting and helping me as I have some special company coming over anytime, if you know what I mean.” He winked again.
“Oh, Mr. Paul, would that be Anne getting you all bothered to go to so much trouble?” She grinned and wagged her finger.
Paul smiled, wagged his finger, and said, “I’ll never tell.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Bessie opened the front door to leave. The letter was in her dress pocket. “Now, Tillie you be a good girl and mind Mr. Paul.”
“Yes, mama.” Bessie closed the door and was gone. Tillie went back to dusting, and Paul sat in the leather chair to watch and regain the mood.
“Tillie, thoroughly get the bottom shelves, as that’s what people see.” Tillie got down on her hands and knees and with her butt in the air, began to dust the bottom shelf. Paul knew she was oblivious to any sexual connotations to anything, and having her butt in the air would probably be funny to her. Her butt wiggled as she dusted, and Paul stared at it.
“Tillie, come here.”
“Yes, sir,” and she got up and strolled over.
“Take off your dress Tillie.”
“Oh, no, sir, Mr. Paul. My mama wouldn’t let me do that.”
“Your mama’s not here, Tillie, but she said to mind me, didn’t she?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Paul, but she wouldn’t want me to take off my dress.”
Paul grabbed her around the waist, and Tillie started to wail. Paul covered her mouth and whispered in her ear. “You shush, Tillie. Stop it now if you ever want to see your mama again, you understand me?”
Tillie’s eyes bulged at the harshness and horror of her situation.
“Now, you be silent and just do as I say and everything will be alright, do you understand me?” Tillie nodded, and Paul removed his hand.
“Now, Tillie, all I want to do is teach you some things you need to know. You want to have babies one of these days, don’t you?”
Tillie nodded, yes.
“I’m just going to show you how babies are made. Now, is that so bad?” Tillie shook her head no. Paul grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head.
“I like children, too, Tillie.”
Almost an hour later, Tillie wept as Paul wiped the blood spots off the leather couch.
“Now listen to me carefully, Tillie. If you tell anyone about this, I will see that you are taken away from your mother. Do you understand?” Tillie nodded yes.
“Look me in the eye, Tillie. No one would believe you. You’re a kid and a black kid at that. Do you think anyone will believe
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