Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 HELOISE Chapter 3



   Suzanne hated flying and everything about it.  She hated the airport,
the security checks, the delays, and most of all, flying itself.  It didn't
help that Nathan was in such a funk over his mother's death.  He hardly
said a word all day, he just kept crying on and off even in public, at the
airport and on the plane.

   "It's my fault," he finally said, "it's all my fault."

   "No, it isn't dear," Suzanne consoled him, "you kept trying to get her
to move.  You always cared for her."

   "But I'm the one who talked her into hiring that maid," he sobbed, "I
mean she needed somebody.  She couldn't look after that big house by
herself anymore.  And Heloise seemed like such a nice girl."

   "I'm sure she did, honey, there's no way you could have known," she
soothed.

   "How could I have been so wrong?" he demanded.

   So that's it, she thought, your pride is wounded because you're not as
good a judge of character as you thought.  She took his hand and he
squeezed it.  He squeezed back, grateful to have her to talk to.  That's
one thing his mother had been wrong about, he mused.  She had never liked
Suzanne and tried to warn him against marrying her.  Suzanne, being from
Maryland was practically a damnyankee as far as she was concerned, and a
city girl who would never fit in besides.  Suze had disliked his mother in
return, though he couldn't blame her.  When his wife tried to be nice, Ma
accused her of being phony and when she let her real attitude show, Ma said
she was disrespectful.  Who would have guessed that after Pa died, Ma would
marry a Yankee city slicker herself and move out to the L.A.  suburbs? 
Everybody thought he was after Ma's money, but he gladly signed a pre-nup.
Nathan wound up liking him and he'd made his mother very happy until he
passed on himself.

   He still found it hard to believe that Heloise had been involved with
killing his mother.  When he hired her she was so gentle and shy.  She had
fake green papers that gave her age as eighteen but he could tell she was
just a child, sixteen at most.  And he had to admit to himself that she
turned him on.  She was pretty rather than beautiful.  She was about
five-nine and a little overweight, but that was okay with him.  Her skin
was not too dark, almost exactly the color of a Hershey bar.  She always
dressed modestly so he had to guess about her tits but he figured a B-cup,
perky and conical.  Her only feature that was a semi-turnoff was her
protruding African ass.  Her face was her best feature -- high cheekbones,
full (but not too full) lips, and light-brown, almost golden eyes.  Best of
all he loved the air of innocence and sweetness about her.

   He smirked to himself.  His great-grandfather had been a slave trader,
just like Nathan Bedford Forrest, the Confederate general he was named for.
He wondered how much they would have gotten for a handsome nigger wench
like her.

   "Penny for your thoughts," Suzanne said.

   "Hmmm . . .  just thinking," he dodged, "Actually I was thinking about
Heloise.  Everything aside, if I wasn't married I'd have been all over her
like a hyena on a crippled gazelle."

   "You would, eh?" she laughed, "well, just make sure you keep remembering
that you ARE married."

   "I never do," he said.



   They finally landed and drove out to his mother's house.  Suzanne wished
they would stay at a hotel instead but didn't argue.  She suffered through
a seemingly endless stream of visitors stopping by to pay their respects.
She was sure that at least half of them had never even said "hi" to the old
lady but she had to be nice to them anyway.  Then the memorial service and
the funeral and finally it was all over.

   She played the perfect supportive wife through it all, the whole time
wishing she was back home whipping her slave into shape.  One thing she did
like was her late mother-in-law's house.  It was hardly a mansion but it
was a large, well-built old house, set on two acres.  It just outside the
city but the town was trying to keep its own identity instead of being
absorbed into the L.A.  sprawl.  But it was close enough to the city for
what she wanted.  After a little searching on the Web she'd been amazed at
all the different kinds of clubs there were out here for people who were
into . . .  just about anything.  Maybe she'd suggest to Nate that they
just move in here rather than selling the place.

   She got in a good day's shopping on Rodeo Drive while Nathan met with
his mother's lawyer.  As expected, he inherited almost everything, but
surprisingly the old lady left Suzanne all her jewelry, plus a letter
apologizing for not getting along and thanking her for making her son so
happy.  Suzanne was so surprised that she almost regretted having the old
bitch killed.  The lawyer said it would take a few months to get everything
taken care of but there shouldn't be any problems.  One item that caught
Nathan's interest was the trunk of family papers he found in the attic
which included his great-grandfather's ledgers, journals and
correspondence.

   He was still reading them on the flight home.

   "What's so interesting?" Suzanne asked, feeling a little neglected.

   "You know about my great-granddaddy," he said, lowering his voice, "the
slave dealer?"

   She nodded.

   "I'm looking through his papers and you wouldn't believe some of the
shit in here," he told her, "like girls trained especially to work in
bordellos in New Orleans and Washington.  He had a favorite `wench' he was
banging and when she started getting a little long in the tooth he made her
train her own daughter to take her place . . .

   "Damn!  Can you imagine that!"

   I certainly can, she thought smugly.  They both returned to their
thoughts until they landed in Atlanta.  He surprised her, suggesting they
stay at a hotel overnight and rest up rather driving home right away.  She
agreed enthusiastically.  They made up for not having sex while they were
in California and slept like babies.



   * * * * * * *



   Suzanne couldn't wait to go down and check on her slave but with Nathan
hanging around the house she didn't have a chance.  Finally, Nate went to
town dashed downstairs to make sure Hole was all right.  What she saw when
she opened the door shocked her.  Hole was just sitting there in the
corner, giggling to herself, her yes totally blank.  She didn't even look
up when Suzanne came in.  She didn't resist when Mistress stood her up and
fed, a little piece of biscuit at a time.  Hole jabbered at her in Creole
and Mistress was afraid that she'd gone completely round the bend.

   Next she removed Hole's diaper and almost threw up at the stench and the
sight of all the shit caked and dried on to Hole's ass.  Bringing a large
bucket of warm water and soap she gently cleaned it all off, uncovering the
worst case of diaper rash in history.  Hole cried while Mistress washed her
but lay still.  After ransacking the house she found some Desitin to rub on
the rash.  When she finished she fed Hole a little more and had her drink
some more water.

   "I'll be back in a little while," she told her, "you just wait right
here.  Here, you can use this bucket from now on and here's some tissue. 
I'll be back later, okay?"

   Hole just stared at her and then managed to croak, "Thank you,
Mistress."

   Suzanne smiled at her and left.  She had to do something.  She couldn't
check on her slave every day and still keep it a secret from Nate.  And she
didn't want Hole to go crazy down there.  She remembered stories she'd seen
about people in solitary losing their minds from sensory deprivation.  Over
the next week she got things organized.  She left a fifty-pound bag of dog
food and replaced the bucket with a box of kitty litter which Hole
faithfully scooped out and dumped into a garbage can.  To keep her mind
occupied she put their old TV/VCR in the coalbin and changed the tapes
every time she went down, providing porn and regular movies, History
Channel specials and music videos.  Heloise was thankful for the
distraction the TV provided, even though she got bored watching the same
tapes over and over.  At first she was too disgusted to watch the X-rated
movies but over time she became fascinated with them.  After all, this was
to be her life.



   Sometimes when Mistress appeared to check on her and bring more tapes
she just chatted with Hole, not Mistress/slave, but like a person and
discovered that her captive could be quite engaging.  For Hole Mistress's
visits were the only high points in her life, and even though she wouldn't
admit it to herself she was starting to love her Mistress.