In her place stood Marilyn Monroe, red dress, platinum blonde hair, beauty mark and squeaky, naive little voice. I could not speak, even to compliment...her. I could only gawk and drool, as Marilyn swung her hips and flirted, seemingly unaware of the affect she would have on all the men in the world. Marilyn eyes sparkled and she gave me a naughty smile. She was twirling her red thong panties and giggled, “I didn’t put these on yet, just in case you wanted to be late to the party.”Dracula almost. He was six years old too. He was called Atwood. Wasn’t real uncommon for plantation owners children to have their own playmate slaves. Lots of times the slaves would grow up serving their master all of their lives. Atwood stayed as my servant until the war. Atwood was given to me at my sixth birthday party. He had been bathed till he shined and was wearing clean hand-me-downs my brother had cast away. He was led in just after I had blown out the cake candles. He had flashing eyes and a. More

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