Part 5
“You still part of the BED?” Mary asked curiously.
Andre looked at her.
“The BED?” He played dumb. Where was she going?
“Yeah. You told us about it. Remember? The black enforcers or something like that. Protected white girls in high school.”
He smiled. “Oh that. Sure. The BED. Black Enforcement Detail. We used to call it just ‘the Detail.’”
“Well,” she was beating around the bush. “Do you still do that sort of thing?”
“I’m out of school. That was a school thing.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t still protect white girls does it?”
“We can protect white girls.”
“Like you’re the captain of this ship? Right?”
“We’ve been over this before. Yes, I’m the Captain. Where are you going with this baby?”
She liked it when Andre called her baby.
“It’s kind of hard to party....to really party....with those two guys still on board.”
“They won’t be on board much longer. We’ll be dropping them off pretty soon.”
Obviously excited, her eyes widened.
“Can we watch?”
“Watch?”
“Yeah. Can we watch you drop them off?”
“Sure you can. Why is that important to you? I don’t get it.”
She shrugged, impatient with him.
“We’ve never seen anything like that. That’s part of it.”
“Like what? We’re putting them ashore.”
“Ashore? I thought you were dropping them off, like off the boat. You know...into the lake. Aren’t we far enough out?”
Andre was jolted by her candor. Did she really mean it?
“They don’t have any gas or oars. We can’t just turn them lose to drift.”
She made a face and rolled her eyes impatiently, clearly frustrated.
“I didn’t mean in their boat. I thought...we thought...that is...” her voice trailed off.
“You thought what?
“Who said anything about a boat? I thought you meant..like...dropping them over the side out here in the lake.”
“You mean just tossing them overboard into the lake?”
Mary squirmed.
“Well, sort of. You said yourself they’d have drowned anyway if you hadn’t come along.”
“Yes. I did say that.”
“Well, if they’d have drowned anyway,” she shrugged. “Then what’s the bid deal?”
“You’d all have drowned. You too. But....”
“But what?”
“We did come along. We did save you.”
“I know you did. You saved us. Don’t you see?”
“See what?”
“You coming along and saving us...two white girls...from two white boys who could have killed us. Don’t you see what I mean?”
He straightened up. He did get what she meant. He was beginning to understand her. It was becoming clear to him but eh enjoyed watching her struggle to get to the point, to come out with what she really meant. That was another legacy of white male rule over white women, the legacy of white women self censoring themselves. She was struggling against the taboos and inhibitions of a life time under white rule. Not only did white girls so often have to struggle against racist taboos against interracial sex, interracial relationships, they so often had to struggle against taboos against just speaking their minds.
He could see it as well as sense it...both of them wanted sex with Andre and his shipmate. The white boys’ presence, however, drugged and passed out as they were, still hung over the girls like a pillow over their faces through which they were struggling to breath. It would be very difficult for he white girls to really let go with white boys still on board.
White girl anxiety. White girl hesitation. White girl inhibition. All obstacles, impediments to free, natural unfettered interracial sex. It was amazing how white girls got it. They eventually got it. Some took longer than others, but eventually they got it and there was not going back for them. There was a point of no return in the white girl psyche. Once reached...they would never be white again. Even if they didn’t have black babies, their worlds, their place in the white world, would forever be upended.
The reason for white girls to turn their backs on white men was reason enough for them never to go back.
He was willing to drop the white boys ashore to go their way, but this white girl wanted to see them dropped off the side of the boat to sink to their deaths. He swallowed. They didn’t just want it done, they wanted to see it done. Wow!
Why was he surprised, he wondered? Hadn’t he s seen it all before? He’d seen white girls come over to the dark side and became more vehemently anti-white male than many blacks were. For him it was OK to drop them ashore and sail off with their women for a couple of days of uninterrupted sucking and fucking. He didn’t need their blood. Not this time. But her, this white girl...she was leading the charge to dispose of the white boys. He wasn’t surprised she felt that way, but rather that she so openly came out with it.
If she was so emphatic now, how would she be tomorrow morning? Would a night of black dick, of interracial fucking make her more vicious or would it mellow her out?
There was another issue. What would the white ass holes be like when they got up tomorrow? Would they be sick? Groggy? Would they be agreeable or would they be...would they be ass holes as so many of them were?
She’d had a brush with death out there in that little boat in the open water. A brush with death. That always made people intense. It sharpened the senses knowing you’d almost died. It made people, both men and women, more sexual too. Less restrained. Of course she wanted to fuck the strong black guy who saved her. Maybe it wasn’t so unnatural that she would want to see the demise of the white dorks who almost killed her. Maybe that was why she was so hung up on the BED and getting the white ass holes out of the way.
He remembered the old days in the BED. Lots of white girls got off on seeing white boys get beat down and sometimes caused confrontations that resulted in “enforcement,” even against innocent white boys who were trying to avoid white girls. “Innocent” white boys? Was any white boy really innocent?
Whatever the reason for her feelings, he had to be calm and clear headed in dealing with a potentially explosive situation. Killing the white boys was no big deal to him, but missing people left behind families that asked questions. It was a school field trip and the school would be pushing for answers. Likewise the local authorities would perk up at the disappearance of white boaters, especially if the white girls with them turned up alive and OK later on. It was all or nothing. Either all of them had to disappear or none of them.
The white girls were good for a few days of fun, but they’d cave under pressure and talk about how they watched Andre dump their white companions over the side, bound and weighted down. He savored the image, but knew killing the white boys would also mean killing the white girls too. There was no getting around it. Women could never be trusted to keep silent.
If only the boys just disappeared and the girls showed up later, they’d be questioned and put under tremendous pressure. No way they’d stand up to that. In a perfect world the disappearance of two white ass holes wouldn’t be questioned. It would be accepted. That world was a long way off in the future and he had to make decisions here and now based on the here and now.
He wondered. Was it was even safe to fuck the white girls? White boys would inform on them to the school and their families. That was risky. Who knows? If pressured by the school or by their parents, might they claim they were *****? It was an old story. White girls wanted black dick but were later pressured to make false accusations. In a perfect world no black man would ever be prosecuted for **** based on the word of an unstable white girl who caved in to the passion of the moment but had later to protect herself by false accusations because of social or ****** pressure.
Hmmm....so many heavy issues. So much passions. So much tension. How to handle these white people upon on whom he’d stumbled in the middle of no where in the lake?
Should they anchor near shore and kick them lose in the morning? Even take them to a marina and help them get gassed up and on their way. That way there’ would be plenty of witnesses that they were all alive and well after being rescued and brought ashore.
They hadn’t fucked the white girls yet. They’d only drugged the white boys to assure their being safely out of the way.
So far, no point of no return had been reached. All options were still open. It was his decision, his decision alone. His friend couldn’t be trusted to show good judgment. As good a shipmate and old friend as he was, he lacked the patience and judgment for important decisions that had consequences. He smiled. His friend would argue they should circle in the middle of the lake, lock up the white ass holes in their cabin and fuck the girls until done with them. Then...then use them all, one at a time, to see if the soundproof room was really soundproof.
His heart beat faster as he envisioned several uninterrupted days on the lake with their four guests. Together he and his friend would take the white boys, one at a time, into the soundproof room and go to work on them. He didn’t like to be rushed and preferred to have at least a full day with each subject. He had some new accessories they wanted to try out and didn’t want to be hurried. There was a natural time to things.
If only they had several uninterrupted days, they could spend a day with each of the boys in the soundproof room, first one then the other. He savored the image of it. The white girls lounging nude on deck throughout the day totally ******* of anything while he and his friend are working on the white boys in the soundproof room below. Of course they’d take breaks. They’d come out for lunch, for dinner. For fun and games with the white girls. He visualized them sucking black dicks topside, totally ignorant of the unimaginable things going on downstairs below them.
Of course the white girls would ask where were white boys , blah, blah, blah... That would be easily explained...they were sea sick and were staying in their cabin. Don’t worry. The white boys are in good hands. Andre smiled. “Good hands.” The white boys would be in good hands all right, but they would not come to a good ending.
Would the girls accept that? What choice would they have?
His shipmate was more into that kind of thing than he was and ordinarily he was willing to indulge his old, trusted friend in his diversions. As appealing to him as that was, it would go on for days. For days. Four people were a lot to deal with and he would quickly tire after the first or second one, even though his friend’s appetite for that kind of amusement was insatiable.
He shuddered. These whites would soon be reported missing by the boat rental people and by their school. They were white. There would be a search on for them. At one level white people still mattered more than others. That meant police boats cruising the lake. More than that, it meant air planes and helicopters flying overhead. In the middle of the lake, they’d spot his fifty footer immediately and with the little tell tale boat in tow it would be obvious what happened to the four missing whites. He dreaded the idea of a police helicopter hovering over his boat and reporting his location...his exact location...to the police boats that inevitably would be speeding toward him. No way he could evade a helicopter or the police boats it would direct to them.
If the white people were missing they’d search his boat. Every inch of it. They’d find the soundproof room. They’d find DNA traces of the whites. Fingerprints. God knows what.
No. The final solution was out of the question. Even weighing them down, even dropping them over the side, bound and weighted down with whatever was on board, that would leave their boat. That would leave their fingerprints, their DNA... It was nerve wracking. Nerve wracking.
He thought about the old white slavers cruising for Black people off the coast of Africa. How he envied them. No radar. No airplanes. No speed boats. No GPS. No accountability. No accountability to anyone for enslaving and killing Africans.
Now things were changing and there was more freedom to deal with white targets of opportunity, but blacks still did not have a free hand...a truly free hand like the white slavers of old. That would come, but it was still in the future. He ached for that future, the future in which white targets of opportunity could just be scooped up and handled with no distractions and no questions afterward.
The future. All his life he’d thought about the past and the future. He worked for that future. It seemed so distant but he could feel things changing and moving his way. In the mean time he still had to be careful, to be cautious, to put things in the proper balance.
Mary’s voice jarred him back to reality.
“You say no white boy interference while we’re here? You’re sure?”
Andre thought to himself, here we go again. Women. They always had to hear it one more time. However annoying was the white girl’s endless need for reassurance, her obvious attraction to him made it worth tolerating her.
“Positive, baby. Positive. They’re out until tomorrow morning. What’s the problem? You’re not married to them. Why do you care?”
“We came with them.”
“You’re not leaving with them, not in that boat. Not out here. It’s not safe.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. They should be arrested for taking you two out like that. You’re lucky to be alive. I thought you understood that.”
“I did. I did. Just making sure.”
“You’re safe now. This boat is totally safe, totally seaworthy for anything this lake can dish out. “
She smiled. “This is cool. This is how to spend your break from school. On a cool boat with cool guys.”
“I’m the authority here. Just me. Here you’re under my protection.”
She gestured toward the front of the ship.
“Even from them?”
“Of course.”
“We’d like to party with you guys. It’s nice to be with cool guys who have their shit together.”
“Great. What’s on your mind?”
“Is something on my mind?”
“You’re asking a lot of questions. You’ve obviously got something in mind.”
“Well,” she asked nervously. “Tomorrow. Like...can we go nude on deck tomorrow?”
“Go nude now. Why wait?”
“It that allowed?
“Everything is allowed baby. Everything.”
“You still part of the BED?” Mary asked curiously.
Andre looked at her.
“The BED?” He played dumb. Where was she going?
“Yeah. You told us about it. Remember? The black enforcers or something like that. Protected white girls in high school.”
He smiled. “Oh that. Sure. The BED. Black Enforcement Detail. We used to call it just ‘the Detail.’”
“Well,” she was beating around the bush. “Do you still do that sort of thing?”
“I’m out of school. That was a school thing.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t still protect white girls does it?”
“We can protect white girls.”
“Like you’re the captain of this ship? Right?”
“We’ve been over this before. Yes, I’m the Captain. Where are you going with this baby?”
She liked it when Andre called her baby.
“It’s kind of hard to party....to really party....with those two guys still on board.”
“They won’t be on board much longer. We’ll be dropping them off pretty soon.”
Obviously excited, her eyes widened.
“Can we watch?”
“Watch?”
“Yeah. Can we watch you drop them off?”
“Sure you can. Why is that important to you? I don’t get it.”
She shrugged, impatient with him.
“We’ve never seen anything like that. That’s part of it.”
“Like what? We’re putting them ashore.”
“Ashore? I thought you were dropping them off, like off the boat. You know...into the lake. Aren’t we far enough out?”
Andre was jolted by her candor. Did she really mean it?
“They don’t have any gas or oars. We can’t just turn them lose to drift.”
She made a face and rolled her eyes impatiently, clearly frustrated.
“I didn’t mean in their boat. I thought...we thought...that is...” her voice trailed off.
“You thought what?
“Who said anything about a boat? I thought you meant..like...dropping them over the side out here in the lake.”
“You mean just tossing them overboard into the lake?”
Mary squirmed.
“Well, sort of. You said yourself they’d have drowned anyway if you hadn’t come along.”
“Yes. I did say that.”
“Well, if they’d have drowned anyway,” she shrugged. “Then what’s the bid deal?”
“You’d all have drowned. You too. But....”
“But what?”
“We did come along. We did save you.”
“I know you did. You saved us. Don’t you see?”
“See what?”
“You coming along and saving us...two white girls...from two white boys who could have killed us. Don’t you see what I mean?”
He straightened up. He did get what she meant. He was beginning to understand her. It was becoming clear to him but eh enjoyed watching her struggle to get to the point, to come out with what she really meant. That was another legacy of white male rule over white women, the legacy of white women self censoring themselves. She was struggling against the taboos and inhibitions of a life time under white rule. Not only did white girls so often have to struggle against racist taboos against interracial sex, interracial relationships, they so often had to struggle against taboos against just speaking their minds.
He could see it as well as sense it...both of them wanted sex with Andre and his shipmate. The white boys’ presence, however, drugged and passed out as they were, still hung over the girls like a pillow over their faces through which they were struggling to breath. It would be very difficult for he white girls to really let go with white boys still on board.
White girl anxiety. White girl hesitation. White girl inhibition. All obstacles, impediments to free, natural unfettered interracial sex. It was amazing how white girls got it. They eventually got it. Some took longer than others, but eventually they got it and there was not going back for them. There was a point of no return in the white girl psyche. Once reached...they would never be white again. Even if they didn’t have black babies, their worlds, their place in the white world, would forever be upended.
The reason for white girls to turn their backs on white men was reason enough for them never to go back.
He was willing to drop the white boys ashore to go their way, but this white girl wanted to see them dropped off the side of the boat to sink to their deaths. He swallowed. They didn’t just want it done, they wanted to see it done. Wow!
Why was he surprised, he wondered? Hadn’t he s seen it all before? He’d seen white girls come over to the dark side and became more vehemently anti-white male than many blacks were. For him it was OK to drop them ashore and sail off with their women for a couple of days of uninterrupted sucking and fucking. He didn’t need their blood. Not this time. But her, this white girl...she was leading the charge to dispose of the white boys. He wasn’t surprised she felt that way, but rather that she so openly came out with it.
If she was so emphatic now, how would she be tomorrow morning? Would a night of black dick, of interracial fucking make her more vicious or would it mellow her out?
There was another issue. What would the white ass holes be like when they got up tomorrow? Would they be sick? Groggy? Would they be agreeable or would they be...would they be ass holes as so many of them were?
She’d had a brush with death out there in that little boat in the open water. A brush with death. That always made people intense. It sharpened the senses knowing you’d almost died. It made people, both men and women, more sexual too. Less restrained. Of course she wanted to fuck the strong black guy who saved her. Maybe it wasn’t so unnatural that she would want to see the demise of the white dorks who almost killed her. Maybe that was why she was so hung up on the BED and getting the white ass holes out of the way.
He remembered the old days in the BED. Lots of white girls got off on seeing white boys get beat down and sometimes caused confrontations that resulted in “enforcement,” even against innocent white boys who were trying to avoid white girls. “Innocent” white boys? Was any white boy really innocent?
Whatever the reason for her feelings, he had to be calm and clear headed in dealing with a potentially explosive situation. Killing the white boys was no big deal to him, but missing people left behind families that asked questions. It was a school field trip and the school would be pushing for answers. Likewise the local authorities would perk up at the disappearance of white boaters, especially if the white girls with them turned up alive and OK later on. It was all or nothing. Either all of them had to disappear or none of them.
The white girls were good for a few days of fun, but they’d cave under pressure and talk about how they watched Andre dump their white companions over the side, bound and weighted down. He savored the image, but knew killing the white boys would also mean killing the white girls too. There was no getting around it. Women could never be trusted to keep silent.
If only the boys just disappeared and the girls showed up later, they’d be questioned and put under tremendous pressure. No way they’d stand up to that. In a perfect world the disappearance of two white ass holes wouldn’t be questioned. It would be accepted. That world was a long way off in the future and he had to make decisions here and now based on the here and now.
He wondered. Was it was even safe to fuck the white girls? White boys would inform on them to the school and their families. That was risky. Who knows? If pressured by the school or by their parents, might they claim they were *****? It was an old story. White girls wanted black dick but were later pressured to make false accusations. In a perfect world no black man would ever be prosecuted for **** based on the word of an unstable white girl who caved in to the passion of the moment but had later to protect herself by false accusations because of social or ****** pressure.
Hmmm....so many heavy issues. So much passions. So much tension. How to handle these white people upon on whom he’d stumbled in the middle of no where in the lake?
Should they anchor near shore and kick them lose in the morning? Even take them to a marina and help them get gassed up and on their way. That way there’ would be plenty of witnesses that they were all alive and well after being rescued and brought ashore.
They hadn’t fucked the white girls yet. They’d only drugged the white boys to assure their being safely out of the way.
So far, no point of no return had been reached. All options were still open. It was his decision, his decision alone. His friend couldn’t be trusted to show good judgment. As good a shipmate and old friend as he was, he lacked the patience and judgment for important decisions that had consequences. He smiled. His friend would argue they should circle in the middle of the lake, lock up the white ass holes in their cabin and fuck the girls until done with them. Then...then use them all, one at a time, to see if the soundproof room was really soundproof.
His heart beat faster as he envisioned several uninterrupted days on the lake with their four guests. Together he and his friend would take the white boys, one at a time, into the soundproof room and go to work on them. He didn’t like to be rushed and preferred to have at least a full day with each subject. He had some new accessories they wanted to try out and didn’t want to be hurried. There was a natural time to things.
If only they had several uninterrupted days, they could spend a day with each of the boys in the soundproof room, first one then the other. He savored the image of it. The white girls lounging nude on deck throughout the day totally ******* of anything while he and his friend are working on the white boys in the soundproof room below. Of course they’d take breaks. They’d come out for lunch, for dinner. For fun and games with the white girls. He visualized them sucking black dicks topside, totally ignorant of the unimaginable things going on downstairs below them.
Of course the white girls would ask where were white boys , blah, blah, blah... That would be easily explained...they were sea sick and were staying in their cabin. Don’t worry. The white boys are in good hands. Andre smiled. “Good hands.” The white boys would be in good hands all right, but they would not come to a good ending.
Would the girls accept that? What choice would they have?
His shipmate was more into that kind of thing than he was and ordinarily he was willing to indulge his old, trusted friend in his diversions. As appealing to him as that was, it would go on for days. For days. Four people were a lot to deal with and he would quickly tire after the first or second one, even though his friend’s appetite for that kind of amusement was insatiable.
He shuddered. These whites would soon be reported missing by the boat rental people and by their school. They were white. There would be a search on for them. At one level white people still mattered more than others. That meant police boats cruising the lake. More than that, it meant air planes and helicopters flying overhead. In the middle of the lake, they’d spot his fifty footer immediately and with the little tell tale boat in tow it would be obvious what happened to the four missing whites. He dreaded the idea of a police helicopter hovering over his boat and reporting his location...his exact location...to the police boats that inevitably would be speeding toward him. No way he could evade a helicopter or the police boats it would direct to them.
If the white people were missing they’d search his boat. Every inch of it. They’d find the soundproof room. They’d find DNA traces of the whites. Fingerprints. God knows what.
No. The final solution was out of the question. Even weighing them down, even dropping them over the side, bound and weighted down with whatever was on board, that would leave their boat. That would leave their fingerprints, their DNA... It was nerve wracking. Nerve wracking.
He thought about the old white slavers cruising for Black people off the coast of Africa. How he envied them. No radar. No airplanes. No speed boats. No GPS. No accountability. No accountability to anyone for enslaving and killing Africans.
Now things were changing and there was more freedom to deal with white targets of opportunity, but blacks still did not have a free hand...a truly free hand like the white slavers of old. That would come, but it was still in the future. He ached for that future, the future in which white targets of opportunity could just be scooped up and handled with no distractions and no questions afterward.
The future. All his life he’d thought about the past and the future. He worked for that future. It seemed so distant but he could feel things changing and moving his way. In the mean time he still had to be careful, to be cautious, to put things in the proper balance.
Mary’s voice jarred him back to reality.
“You say no white boy interference while we’re here? You’re sure?”
Andre thought to himself, here we go again. Women. They always had to hear it one more time. However annoying was the white girl’s endless need for reassurance, her obvious attraction to him made it worth tolerating her.
“Positive, baby. Positive. They’re out until tomorrow morning. What’s the problem? You’re not married to them. Why do you care?”
“We came with them.”
“You’re not leaving with them, not in that boat. Not out here. It’s not safe.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. They should be arrested for taking you two out like that. You’re lucky to be alive. I thought you understood that.”
“I did. I did. Just making sure.”
“You’re safe now. This boat is totally safe, totally seaworthy for anything this lake can dish out. “
She smiled. “This is cool. This is how to spend your break from school. On a cool boat with cool guys.”
“I’m the authority here. Just me. Here you’re under my protection.”
She gestured toward the front of the ship.
“Even from them?”
“Of course.”
“We’d like to party with you guys. It’s nice to be with cool guys who have their shit together.”
“Great. What’s on your mind?”
“Is something on my mind?”
“You’re asking a lot of questions. You’ve obviously got something in mind.”
“Well,” she asked nervously. “Tomorrow. Like...can we go nude on deck tomorrow?”
“Go nude now. Why wait?”
“It that allowed?
“Everything is allowed baby. Everything.”
