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"It's like her mind has left her and it is only her body that sits there upon the chair. What are we going to do?" she asked, pulling out her handkerchief again and twisting it in her plump hands."Leanore, hysterics aren't going to help," Nathalie began to say only to stop when she heard Isobel shriek. The girl went for her father, her knee going between his legs and slamming into his groin. There was a bright red handprint on Isobel's face, evidence that King Alan wasn't willing to wait for her to come out of whatever demented trance she was in. King Alan went to the floor, his hands clenched between his legs, a strange sound leaking from his lips."Oh dear!" Leanore exclaimed. She pushed up from her chair, going to her husband's side. "Alan, are you all right?"Alan groaned, opening his eyes. "Do I look like I'm all right?" His eyes went to where his daughter was, seated back in her seat, lazily plucking at a bunch of grapes. "She's a witch," he hissed at his wife."No, Alan, no, you. "Debbie, draw up a weekend long contract for this nigger and arrange her transportation to the club"He turned to Shanika, "You may go now." He winked at her, "but I'm sure I'll see you later." Thank you, sir," said Shanika as she stepped back into the outer office. Once again she felt the coolness of the air conditioning on her bare flesh. Her nipples were hard and she could still smell the faint scent of her musk.Debbie went to the filing cabinet and produced a form and a pen. "Fill in your name here, the date here, and sign here," she said, indicating the appropriate places on the form.Shanika did as instructed and bent over Debbie's desk to sign the document, her breasts hanging and swaying slightly as she wrote. Debbie took the signed paper and filed it.Turning towards Shanika, Debbie wrinkled up her nose, "Whew! I guess you liked talking to Mr. Richards. I can smell that poontang from here! Let me check. Open your legs for me, nigger," she demanded.Not knowing what else to do.
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