I have considered myself black-owned for a very long time, so
the prospect of becoming an actual slave was surprising. I didn’t expect such a huge change in the
psychological aspect since the physical change seemed to be minimal. I was owned by black men before. Why was this so different?
The physical reality of true black ownership was different in
subtle but important ways. In past
relationships, I surrendered my freedom for a pre-determined period of time – I
knew going in when the time was up, so the surrender was partial and
incomplete. I would recover my freedom,
usually in a day or two, seldom more than a week. Now that I was faced with permanent loss, the
depth of my surrender was vast and overwhelming. I was committed to another human being in a
way I never really contemplated before.
The enormity of the commitment frightened me as nothing else in my life
ever had.
But the fear of that unknown experience, linked inexorably
with the searing permanence of the existence I was about to endure, also
bestowed on me an absolute sense of helplessness that relieved me of every
responsibility I had ever known.
As much as my mental state was changing, my physical being
was being transformed even more completely.
William wasted no time in enlightening me of the stark difference
between consort and slave.
As soon as we arrived at his compound, William led me to a
cabinet at the back of the tool shed that contained an array of heavy shackles. I contemplated asking why the restraints were
necessary, given my acquiescence with my new status, but I sensed that
questioning anything would be almost profane.
As William silently fitted the irons around my wrists and
ankles along with a thick iron collar around my neck, I watched with a profound
detachment that felt so appropriate that I was almost overcome with
gratitude. Once the shackles and collar
were in place, William pried open a trap door in floor and led me down a dark flight
of steep stairs to a cellar beneath the shed.
At the bottom of the stairs William pushed open a heavy
wooden door that opened into a concrete room.
I had no idea the place existed. The
only light in the dank gloom filtered dimly from a high window at one end of
the long room. As my eyes adjusted to
the light, I noticed a round bed such as a dog would sleep upon, along side a
small bucket and an even smaller bowl.
William roughly pulled my arm as he led me behind the door at
the bottom of the stairs and I saw a small sledge hammer next to a large solid
wooden block. He positioned my hand on
the block and used the sledge to hammer an open link on a heavy chain through
the two halves of the shackle, locking it to my wrist and binding my wrist to the
chain. William then turned me around and
hammered the chain into my other shackle, trapping my hands and arms behind my
back. The chain was slack enough to
permit me some range of motion but not slack enough that I could hope to use or
even see my hands. My ankles and collar
were soon secured to the chain in quick order, effectively hog tying me as I
lay on the concrete floor next to the wooden block.
I heard William drop the sledge once I was securely
restrained. Suddenly he lifted me off
the ground and carried me to the dog bed at the far end of the room. I laid me down on the bed and, without saying
a word he used a pocket knife to cut my clothes off my body. Once I was naked, he walked back to the door
and closed it behind him. I heard his
steps fade into the distance as he mounted the stairs. Finally I heard the trap door positioned over
the stairs and door to the shed closed and locked.
