les histoires de chrislebo

By the time the weekend arrived, Miss Simons had become tired and worn out. She hadn't done these types of physical activities since college, and she was glad to get away from the offense of being Trish's cheerleader, if only for the weekend.

But it was not meant to be.

As she prepared to leave on Friday, Trish called Miss Simons into the coach's office, Trish's office now.

Meekly the woman entered the room, her many awards and plaques still decorating the walls, reminders of her present shame. Sitting in the chair was Trish, with her legs propped up on the desk and still wearing her cheerleading costume. Miss Simons couldn't help but stare at the white cotton panties peaking beneath the skirt.

"Miss Simons, I first wanted to let you know that I have been both pleased and disappointed with my newest cheerleader. On one hand you are very enthusiastic and willing to learn. However on the other hand, you are extremely rusty. I cant count how many times you've fallen over doing rather simple cheers. Now it may give us all a hoot to see your up turned ass, but eventually it becomes just annoying. Don't you get tired of all the girls laughing at you? Even the white girls cant help it."

"I'm.....I'm sorry Trish...."

"Yes yes, you can apologize all you want. I am really considering having second thoughts about you staying with the squad."

Panic struck the former coach "No no..please don't throw me off, I....I will try harder....I promise...please....." Tears were starting to swell. A grown woman, crying.

"I don't know Miss Simons, I mean we have a game in only one week. I need my girls to be in tip top shape. How do I know I can count on you to get your act together in time."

Miss Simons became desperate. She just had to stay on the squad. She dearly wanted to be Trish's cheerleader, for what ever sick, depraved, submissive reamister, she just had to.

"I promise I will, I will do anything it takes...please..."

"Anything Miss Simons?"

"Yes....anything....please let me be your cheerleader, please" The adult was now begging the teen, pleading to let the once proud coach remain as a mere cheerleader.

"Very well Miss Simons, I will give you a little more time to prove yourself. In the meantime, I want you to come to my house tomorrow night."

"What?"

"My lady is hosting a.....party...tomorrow and I would like it very much if you came along as my 'special' guest!"

"Well, I'm not really sure..."

"Of course you can always just quit the squad and not have to worry about being my guest."

"No no no, I would...very much like to attend your party tomorrow." Miss Simons reluctantly responded.

"Excellent, lady is so looking forward to meeting you. We are going to have such a fun time tomorrow."

Miss Simons couldn't help but feel that "we" didn't include her. As Miss Simons began to walk towards the door, she turned around one last time. "Oh, what should I wear to your lady's party?"

Trish smiled, "Why your cheerleading uniform of course!"

*****

Miss Simons was very nervous when she rang the door bell. She couldn't help but notice all the cars parked outside the house. She patiently waited for the door to open as she remained outside in her over coat, covering what little she wore beneath it. Her high heels feeling a little uncomfortable.

Finally the door swung open to the beautiful sight of Trish. Miss Simons momentarily felt at ease as she saw the young girl. "Welcome Miss Simons, I am so glad you could make it. It just wouldn't be a party with out you."

Miss Simons took note of Trish's attire, simply jean shorts and a tank top. Not very formal for a party.

Signaling for her former coach to enter, Miss Simons walked through the door and into the house. Immediately she saw the dozen or so black faces staring back at her. The crowd of mostly women and some men all took note of the white female as she tentatively walked in. This caused her to again feel very uneasy. She had the impulse to run back out, get into her car, and race to the safety of her own home. She could have done it couldn't she? She was an adult. But the gentle push on her back from Trish made her think otherwise.

"Hello every, this is my cheerleading.....opps, excuse me, this is my FORMER cheerleading coach, Miss Simons. She's agreed to wonderfully be apart of our little party!"

"Be apart of the party?" Miss Simons couldn't help but question in her mind the unusual sentence. As she looked at the crowd gathered in the house, the black women hardly gave her a second glance. As if she was not worth their attention. The black men however gave her hungry looks as they studied the middle aged white woman. She clutched her over coat tighter to her body.

At that moment Miss Simons noticed another white woman emerging from the kitchen with a tray of food. She also appeared to be middle aged, but a good few years older. The most shocking part was that she was dressed merely in her bra and panties. The 40 ish woman gingerly walked from permister to permister, offering them food from her tray. Her jiggling mature body looking foolish as she moved in high heels.

The woman looked totally out of place, as if she was used to a more elegant life style.

Miss Simons was so busy watching the white woman make her rounds, that she didn't even notice the black woman standing in front of her.

"Miss Simons, let me introduce you to my lady."

The coach took a step back. She was an imposing woman. Tall, big boned, and a dark black.

"So this is your cheerleading coach, or cheerleader if I've heard correctly. My little Trish has told me all about you."

Miss Simons couldn't help but lower her eyes in shame. She didn't realize that her lady would know about her presentation. The lady took the coach's chin in her hand and raised her head ever so gently, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Has this pretty cheerleader been a good girl for my flower?"

"No she hasn't lady. She's been a horrible cheerleader. She does her cheers all wrong and distracts the other girls every time her big titties flop around."

"Tisk tisk tisk, that's too bad. So what should we do with her then?"

"Well she's agreed to do whatever it takes to remain on the squad."

"Has she, well that is wonderful. I so do love a good white girl who knows her place. Very good, she can start right away then. Oh Jennifer!!!" The lady called out. Instantly the white woman practically came running over, looking very foolish in the process.

"Yes Miss Brown!" The woman said with almost a little fear in her voice. It was at this time that Miss Simons noticed the small sign hanging from her neck. In big pink letters, it said "White Cow".

"Miss Simons is it? Well let me introduce you to my boss from work. This is Jennifer, and she's our little white cow."

Miss Simons looked at the older half naked woman in surprise. "She was her boss? How could she just prance around in her under wear serving food if she was her boss?" The former coach tried to comprehend.

The lady continued "So tell me Miss Simons, doesn't my high and mighty boss just look the cutest in her undee's?" The coach dumbly nodded. Miss Brown was now pressing her dark finger into the woman's pale chubby belly, running little circles with it. Amazingly she stood there passively, even breathing harder. "Oh you should see her at work, giving out orders and wearing 700 hundred dollar suits. You would almost confuse her with a strong minded permister. But what are you really Jen?"

"A white cow Miss Brown. I am your white cow."

The lady smiled at the words of presentation and gave her cow's behind a good squeeze. "But before she was my little white cow, Jen was quite the little racist weren't you?"

Jennifer lowered her eyes and shook her head yes.

"She would say all sorts of nasty things behind her black coworker's backs and would secretly enjoy calling in the mostly all black janitorial staff to clean her office when ever she got bored. Well I finally had enough of that nonsense. Our saggy breasted white cow had to learn her place in the world."

Miss Simons could see Jennifer's face turning red.

"So one day after work I marched right in to her big office. Within 10 minutes, I had her voluntarily striping down to her expensive underwear and laying over my knees. Another 15 minutes later her very red butt was jiggling itself down to the janitorial room where all the staff were getting ready to clean. They were quite surprised to see the high level executive appear before them in only her underwear to apologize, but where most accommodating when she took my suggestion to clean the offices for them."

The coach could see the older woman's eyes watering.

"Now its part of her daily job. She's even on the company payroll. Everyday after work, she changes out of her expensive suit into her cute little janitorial uniform and cleans all the offices, hallways, and bathrooms. She'd be wearing her uniform tonight if it wasn't so dirty from cleaning toilet bowls everyday. So instead she is more than happy so serve my guests in her expensive silk undee's, isn't that right cow?"

"Yes Miss Brown."

"So now let me get a good look at the new white toy my flower has brought home to let us play with."

Fear began to reappear in the face of Miss Simons. She was so caught up in Jennifer's tale of degradation that she had almost forgotten of her own tale, equally as humiliating. As the lady began unbuttoning the first of 3 buttons holding the over coat closed, Miss Simons mind was screaming to stop her. It didn't have to be like this. She as an adult. She was the same age as this black woman before her. All she had to do was turn around and leave. She was a free permister.

The third button was released and Miss Brown stepped back. "Come on, show me what my flower has you dressed up as."

Miss Simons froze. She just couldn't. All eyes were on her at that moment. Everyone interested in seeing what the 17 year old black girl has her 32 year old white coach dressed up as. At that moment, Trish raised her lips to Miss Simons' ear and whispered "Do it if you want to be my cheerleader!"

Her eyes lit up. She was quickly reminded how much she wanted to be Trish's cheerleader. Even at the possibility of one day replacing Amber and becoming Trish's permisteral cheerleader. Not wasting another second, she released her grasp of her coat and allowed it to fall off her shoulders and onto the ground. An immediate wave of shame washed over the coach as women giggled and men whistled at the adult white woman in her high heels, micro cheerleading skirt and terribly stretched top.

"Very nice, very nice indeed. You've done an excellent job Trish. You really take after you lady."

"Thanks mom. Now Miss Simons, how do you thank my lady for complementing you and I?"

Miss Simons new what was expected. Trish had talked about it on the phone when she was giving her directions to the house. With the best smile she could muster, Miss Simons raised her skirt with both hands and curtsied like a little girl, revealing all her charms for the crowd.

"Very good manners for a white woman. She'll make a good addition to the show later. But for now Miss Simons I want you to follow Jen into the kitchen to get more food. I don't want my guests to go hungry."

Both women dutifully walked towards the kitchen as Miss Simons came to the realization that this night was just beginning.

As Miss Simons walked through her house door, her mind and body ached terribly. It was an instant reminder of what she had witnessed tonight, and it made her want to cry. She had never been so used and humiliated like this before.

Dropping the keys she went straight for the shower. She desperately needed to wash off the disgust.

The warm water felt good on her skin as she tried to clear her mind. The mind that held knowledge of the nights degrading activities. She had to keep her mind clear of them, or she would go insane.

The soreness of her breasts lessened from the gentle shower spray. Her hand slowly reaching down to feel her tender stretched pussy. Quickly the image of that terrible black dildo popped into her head and she quickly shook it away.

Turning around, she allowed the warm water to flow over her back. She noted that her behind was still a little sore. She could still feel the stings from Trish's strong hand.

Taking some soap she began lathering up her hands before washing her face. She needed to clean that first. It was still sticky with Amber's juices. "Gosh Amber! How could I?" Mrs Simons couldn't help but remember the look on Amber's pretty face. A look of heat and desire as the former coach lowered her willing tongue to her....to her.....

Again she shook the memory away and moved down to wash her breasts. They indeed were still very soar as well. Miss Simons cringed as she remembered the cruel plastic stick. She continued to wash and sooth her large breasts for a few minutes before moving on.

Finally she had reached her poor vagina. It was still terribly stretched from the evil dildo. Easily 3 fingers slipped inside as she felt a sob coming on. "How could Trish be so demented?" She cried. "How could she use me like that and humiliate me in front of all those other women.....black women?"

At that moment the former coach could feel her pussy tingle. "Dame it stop that!" She yelled at herself. She knew why her pussy was tingling and she hated herself for it. The fact of the matter was that she had actually enjoyed being humiliated before all those strange black faces. She had wallowed in the expressions on their faces as she made a spectacle of herself for Trish.

This time her pussy pulsed and she slapped it. Then slapped it again harder. She didn't want it to be all excited and aroused. She didn't want it to be turned on as she recalled the offense of the past few hours. What had been done to her should have made her mad as hell.

But it hadn't.

Despite herself, her mind began drifting to the other white girls at the party. The other girls that were made to serve and entertain just like her. "Oh how degrading it must have been for them as well." Miss Simons thought. "Did they enjoy it? No, how could they? No one could enjoy behind humiliated in those ways."

Before she knew it, Miss Simons's mind had begun recalling the experiences. Recalling how she had followed Jennifer into the kitchen, relieved to get away from the black crowd for at least a moment but also still very nervous of what the night may hold.

"Hurry up!" Jennifer yelled at her, "Miss Brown doesn't like it when we slack off."

Miss Simons was surprised to hear Jennifer, or "Jen" actually talk to her. Until now the older woman had been very submissive and restrained, prancing around in her bra and panties while serving food. It caught her off guard to suddenly see Jen in this commanding permistera.

"Are you stupid or something? Get over here and take this tray outside. You better not piss off Miss Brown. You have no idea how mean she can be when she's mad."

"But..."

Jen look back at her "But what?"

"But aren't you her boss?" Miss Simons should have known better. But she was dying to learn more about their twisted role reversal.

The half naked executive gave the former coach a stern look "Ya, so what's your point?"

"Well...I mean...why are you here taking orders from her then?"

Jennifer's face was now getting red. She looked as if she was going to slap Miss Simons. Instead she simply lifted the food tray and shoved it into the coach's arms.

"Get going Missy, the guests are waiting."

Miss Simons decided not to press the issue further and began walking towards the kitchen door. She realized that Miss Brown had indeed been right. Jennifer was an assertive, strong-minded permister. But not here.

Emerging from the kitchen to the unwelcome sight of even more black faces arriving, she slowly approached a young black woman, in her early 20's, standing by the kitchen door.

"Would you like an orderv ma'am?" Miss Simons tried over the crowd noise.

The young girl turned and gave Miss Simons a look like she had just noticed her for the first time. "Oh, how nice. What a good girl you are. Do tell me, who do you belong to?"

Miss Simons blink several times, not knowing how to respond to the question before asking one herself "Belong to?"

"Yes you silly girl. Who brought you to the party?"

"Trish"

"Oh, so your Trish's new toy. How wonderful for her. She certainly knows how to pick them. What are you supposed to be dressed up as?"

Miss Simons lowered her eyes and blushed, "A cheerleader."

The young woman gave a slight giggle, "Yes you certainly are. You're a lot older than her usual white girls, and not as pretty. But don't you look just the cutest in that uniform. Well hurry along now."

Miss Simons gave a fake smile before continuing to the next group of women. Eventually she reached one of the few men in the group. He was sitting at one of the couches when she approached with the tray.

"Orderv sir?"

"Don't mind if I do."

As she held it out to him, instead of taking one of the orderv's, he reached under her skirt and actually began grouping her left inner thigh.

She instantly jerked back, causing the remaining odervs to fall off her tray and onto the floor. With the surrounding women looking at her, she quickly lowered to the ground to pick each one up. Several times the creepy guy, who was actually quite young would place his foot beneath her skirt and lift it up, briefly exposing her to the room. Each time she'd struggle to move away.

Finally she collected them all and stood back up with the tray, but the man would still not leave her alone. Grabbing her by the hips and pulling her closer, he again reached underneath her skirt and began feeling her thighs. She was scared and didn't know what to do.

As he continued grouping her, she looked up at Trish with pleading eyes, hoping that she would intervene. When Trish simply shook her head and smiled wickedly, Miss Simons' heart sank. She would have to let him feel her up. As he began moving up her leg, she soon could feel his long dark fingers touching her dry outer lips.

She sighed at the intimate contact, feeling the strain of trying to keep the heavy tray up with her hands as he freely played with her folds.

The coach noted the black women sitting around her, watching her, commenting on what a slut she was being. Miss Simons felt so ashamed being played with like this, in front of other women. But she continued to stand there and take it, just as Trish wanted.

Despite the crude manner at which she was being played with, she could feel her pussy moistening. She looked down at the man's face and he returned a knowing smile.

But at that moment, Miss Simons could sense the focus of the room changing. Everybody was turning and looking over towards the stairs. Miss Simons looked to.

Coming down, holding another, older black man's hand was Amber. She too was wearing her skimpy cheerleading uniform and her long blond hair was a mess. As she arrived at the bottom of the stairs Miss Simons's could see that her inner thighs were shiny and slick.

In some state of shock, Miss Simons watched as Amber approached her location at the sofa. The young blonde was blushing as she obviously tried not to look Miss Simons in the eyes. As she arrived, she released the hand of the black male and took the hand of the one seated before her former coach. The guy, who had continued to lightly fondle the middle aged cheerleader, stood up and followed Amber's lead back towards the stairs. Soon they had both disappeared.

Still in surprised shock, Miss Simons made her way back to the kitchen to restock her tray. "What is Amber doing here?" The coach questioned. "And what is she doing with those men upstairs?" The former coach was beginning to form a possible scene in her head when Jen walked through the kitchen door.

"So, here for only a few minutes and your already dropping food on the floor."

"Oh, sorry. Its just that man kept trying to feel me up."

"Well get used to it. He likes to touch us. Just don't keep dropping your tray. You definitely do NOT want to get on Miss Brown's bad side."

"You still haven't told me why your taking orders from her." Again Miss Simons was pushing the issue and again Jennifer was getting upset."

"Your a real bitch you know that? Do you really want to know? Do you really want to know why I allow this black subordinate to treat me like a cow and show me off at her parties?"

"YES!" Miss Simons could hardly contain her enthusiasm for wanting to know.

"Its the same reamister why your standing here dressed up like a freaking cheerleader and taking orders from an 18 year old black girl."

"Natural Dominance?" Miss Simons responded.

"That's right. Natural dominance. I thought it was bullcuckolds brownie the first time Miss Brown told me about it. She had come into my office one day after I was especially nasty to the mostly all black cleaning crew. She was right, I so did enjoy watching them slave away making my office look all clean and fresh. And I would never even thank them for it.

So when she came into my office later that day, told me how rude I was, and said how she would give me a good hard spanking for it, I laughed in her face. When I asked her how in hell she'd plan on doing such a thing, that's when she told me about natural dominance, where white women were naturally submissive to black women.

It sounded absurd and ridiculous. But soon enough she had me believing her. As she commanded me over her knees I found myself loosing all my nerve. The same nerve that got me to be an executive was now being replaced with a need to obey. I wanted her to punish me. To spank me. To turn my ass red with her hand. To put a white bitch like me in my place. Just like you do."

"What?" Miss Simons questioned back.

"You want Trish to dominate you, to use you, to treat you like a submissive cheerleader. Admit it!"

Miss Simons lowered her eyes and blushed. It was true and she knew it. She would do anything to be Trish's little white cheerleader, even attending one of these questionable parties.

"Well I can see it in your eyes. So that is why I take orders from my subordinate Miss Brown. Not because SHE wants me to, but because I WANT to. I WANT her to tell me what to do. I WANT to be her stupid white cow. Just like you WANT to be Trish's stupid white cheerleader."

Miss Simons now understood what Jen was trying to tell her. It all made sense. Even though Jen was the boss of Miss Brown at work, Miss Brown "naturally dominates" Jen, hence the reamister why Jen has submitted to her, and why herself has submitted to Trish. Miss Simons new she may have been reaching a new understanding.

"Now come on, if we waste another second we'll both get in big trouble."

Miss Simons walked back out of the kitchen with a new food tray and began serving food to who ever wanted some. A few of the women would make rude comments to her as she stood before them, while others simply ignored her. Soon she made it to where Trish was sitting.

"You've been doing well Miss Simons. I am very proud of you. It looks like your doing a better job being a food server than you ever were being a cheerleading coach, that's for sure."

This made the former coach feel sad. She had always loved coaching her cheerleaders, and always thought she was pretty good at it. She had received tons of awards from many competitions. Yet if Trish told her she was a better food server, than it must be true.

"Are you surprised to see Amber here?"

Miss Simons nodded her head.

"The guy she brought down stairs was my uncle and that was my brother she took with her. His name is Thomas. He has a thing for white girls, but frankly I don't see why. Can you guess what he's doing with her right now?" Trish had an evil grin on her face. Miss Simons's eyes opened wide at realizing what Trish was getting at.

When my brother first saw her, he wanted her almost immediately. That was when she was captain of the squad and still little miss high and mighty white girl. Boy did I put an end to that. Can you just imagine what her parents would think if they knew their little girl was upstairs getting fucked by my big brother?

A little shiver went down the coach's spine. She knew both of Amber's parents. John and Cindy Lowenstien. John was a very well off businessman while Cindy was a very respected lady in the community. Both of them were known to frequent many high level functions and just the thought of their pampered teenage flower serving black men and women was very stimulating....and even erotic, to the coach's regretful admission.

She found herself imagining Amber's nude sweaty body beneath the aggressive black male as he pistoned his large tool into her.

The image in her head quickly ended to the ringing of a small bell. Turning around, Miss Simons saw Trish's lady happily ringing it in her hand.

"Ok ladies, it is time for the main entertainment to get underway. I'm sure it's going to be a very good show tonight. Everyone take their seats please."

Miss Simons watched as all the women sat in the various chairs and sofas around the living room. It made a perfect circle as they all faced the inside.

Instantly Jennifer kneeled on the floor in front of where Miss Brown was sitting. Taking her que, Miss Simons set her tray aside and lowered to the floor before Trish. She felt a light petting on her head..."Good Girl". The coach could help but feel proud of herself.

At that moment, one of the female guests emerged from a door leading down to the basement. She was holding a leash in her hand, which Miss Simons quickly found was connected to the neck of a young woman.

The coach gasped at the sight. The white woman appeared to be 25 or 26, with two large loop rings attached to her dangling breasts as she crawled behind the black woman. But the most shocking thing about the girl, was that she was completely hairless. Not only was her pubic mound bare, but the hair on her head was completely shaved off. She was bald.

Miss Simons studied the expressionless face of the young woman. It was as if she was a zombie, passively following the lead of the black woman tugging on her leash until they reached the rest of the group and took their seat. Sensing her former coach's curiosity, Trish leaned forward in her chair and began whispering into Miss Simons's ear.

"That girl is known as the party toy. Her name used to be Samantha, about the same time she was graduating from grad school and applying for a job. Fortunetly the woman holding her leash, Orlanda, was the one interviewing her for one such job. Not long after her fiance was very sad to learn about the new position she'd accepted, "Party Toy". Turns out she always had a desire to serve black women and never knew it."

Trish continued to tell the story of Samantha's presentation. Of how she wisely choose to leave her fiance and volunteer full time for her new position. A position of presentation and service to black women. Usually she is kept down stairs in the basement and only brought up for parties and special occasions.

As Miss Simons watched the young woman, she just couldn't believe that such a pretty, intelligent, aspiring young professional would give up a promising career and family to serve as a slave. But that's exactly what had happened. Apparently, she once had long lovely brunet hair but willingly allowed them to shave it all off so it could be made into a whip. Miss Simons gasped when she saw the whip in Orlanda's hand.

By now everyone had been seated around in the circle. Miss Simons patiently knelt on the floor, not knowing what to expect next until Miss Brown spoke up again.

"Ok ladies, time to get tonight's entertainment started. But first I'd like to thank all you girls for coming. I know how much you enjoy these parties, but I still am glad all of you could be here. Also, let me introduce to you all my flower's latest conquest. The white creature kneeling before Trish is Miss Simons, her 'former' cheerleading coach."

Miss Simons blushed embarrassingly at the new attention as all eyes were now upon her.

"According to my flower, Miss Simons was not doing a very good job as her coach and she has agreed sensibly to step down in favor of Trish."

Every one started clapping, making Miss Simons feel even worse.

"However, since my flower is such a nice girl, she has allowed Miss Simons to remain on the squad as a cheerleader, and that is why she is dressed like she is today."

Again more clapping, almost as if they were applauding Trish's pity over the pathetic former coach.

"With that said, we can now begin with the entertainment. I think my Jen should go first, every agree?"

Everyone seemed more than happy to let Miss Brown's submissive go first. Miss Simons noticed that Jen looked as if she was a little nervous, but also getting excited.

"Very good. Ok white cow, go into the kitchen and get your things."

With a blushing face, Jennifer stood and disappeared into the kitchen. After a brief moment, she returned with a small brown box, and a bowl of cold milk. Setting the bowl down on the floor, she opened the box and presented it to Miss Brown. Trish's lady than nodded, reached inside the box and removed a bell. Quickly she fastened it to the neck of her white cow and ordered her to remove her bra and panties.

With an ever reddening face Jen obeyed, revealing to the crowd her sagging breasts and jelly ass. Miss Simons could see the absolute shame in Jennifer's face. Her body obscenely jiggled as she lowered her naked self on to her knees and hands. Reaching into the box again, Miss Brown took out a permanent black marker and placed it between Jen's teeth. Finally, with the bowl of cold milk right below her dangling breasts, Jen dipped each "udder" into the bowl. The cold milk instantly hardening her nipples and coating her breasts.

With a slap to the butt, Jen began crawling along the inside of the circle. With enormous humor, the women watched as she did her best to crawl like a cow, ass jiggling, sagging breasts swaying and dripping with milk.

To Miss Simons's never ending surprise, each woman took the permanent black marker in her mouth and, as the poor boss crawled to them, they would draw big black cow patches on her body. As her back, belly, ass, and legs soon became covered in black semi- circles, the coach could actually see tears of total offense swelling in her eyes.

This respected, middle-aged white woman was normally a tough, no- nonsense SOB at work. Yet here, with real cow milk dripping from her nipples, a cow bell jingling away, and black patches being drawn all over her body, she was nothing but a stupid white cow. And at her own admittance, she was craving it. Without even a command from Miss Brown, Jen was soon mooing like a fool. Her face and upper chest flushed with shame, she soon crawled up to where Miss Simons was kneeling on the floor.

Just looking at the spectacle made the former cheerleading coach feel both scared and excited at the same time. She was getting excited at watching the pure offense of this woman. Especially after the way Jen had treated her in the kitchen. So when Trish offered the marker to her coach, with a wicked smile, Miss Simons painted the Jen's nose black.

As the sobbing cowgirl held her face still, she shot daggers at the former coach coloring her. Finished, Miss Simons put the marker back inside the cow's mouth and watched as she moved on to the next tormenting black girl. Miss Simons continued to watch the degrading scene as Trish bent down again and whispered.

"Does any of this excite you Miss Simons?"

The coach didn't answer.

"Jennifer always pretends that she absolutely hates this. Being treated like a cow and humiliated for all these black women. Just by looking at her you would think this was pure *** for he, and it is. But take a look between those chubby thighs of hers. What do you see?"

Miss Simons looked at the heavy thighs of the older woman, and saw what young Trish was talking about. The insides of Jen's thighs were wet. Very wet. She was indeed getting off on this. Being humiliated was definitely turning the horny old cow on.

All in all Jen made her way around the circle ten times. Each trip she gingerly dipped her breasts into the cold milk. By the end, black patches covered almost every part of her pale body. As she knelt once again at Miss Brown's feet, spreading her knees apart, the high level executive, still covered from head to toe in black permanent marker, began shamelessly playing with herself. "The horny old cow" thought Miss Simons. However, she was also becoming aware of her own sticky inner thighs.

--

"Dame me, how could I have gotten so turned on?" Miss Simons cursed herself as the warm shower water continued to splash against her now relaxed body.

"I should have felt so bad for her, being made to prance around the room like a freaking cow. Where was my sympathy? Instead all I did was color her nose. Where is my humanity? How could I get wet watching a fellow white woman being degraded like that?"

But instead of shame, all she felt was her pussy give yet another spasm. She refrained from hitting it this time, choosing rather to just ignore it, afraid that spanking it would only make things worse. Instead she reached up and turned the water off. It was getting late and she needed to get some much needed rest.

As she dried herself off, her mind started wondering again. Back to that dame party. Back to the scene with the poor young woman. She didn't want to recall it. It was too horrible. Even if it had gotten her more excited than ever watching it, she just couldn't bare to recall the degrading, perverse scene in her mind.

Shaking the images of Samantha, tied and hanging from the ceiling, venerable to the wicked intentions of her black owners, Miss Simons wrapped the towel around herself and emerged from the bathroom.

Choosing the usual nightgown, she covered her body and prepared for bed. Yes, she really needed a good nights relax. But what about Samantha? Would she be getting a good night relax in the basement? Did she actually have a bed down there or did they put her in some sort of cage? And how could she possibly fall arelax after what she just went through? How could she relax without images of those soft, but very cruel feathers gliding along her trembling body? Oh the agony she must have been going through.

Miss Simons was now lying upon her bed, unable to stop herself from again recalling the events of the night. Unable to stop herself from remember the lustful look on Jennifer's face as she took her place on the floor next to Miss Brown, fingers wedged in her cunt, fresh milk still dripping from the base of her tits.

All the women began clapping as Miss Brown patted her pet on the head, signaling that Jennifer was indeed finished and had done an excellent job.

"Good girl, you are such a good cow." Miss Simons couldn't help but think how ironic it was. Jennifer was her boss, with the power to practically fire Miss Brown. Yet despite that power, it was Jennifer kneeling naked at her feet and covered from head to toe with black patches.

"Ok girls, who should we watch next?" Miss Simons' heart began filling with fear. She didn't want to be next, if not at all. She couldn't bare to go through something similar to what Jennifer had. But fortunately for her, every one was shouting out for Samantha. Apparently she was a big favorite.

Watching with ever growing amazement and curiosity, Miss Simons watched the bald girl rise from her kneeling position without a hint of rebellion and walk to the center of the room. Her arms were tied together with rope and attached to a pulley on the ceiling, which Miss Simons had only now noticed. Soon she was lifted off the ground and left hanging a good two feet. In that vulnerable position, two other black women held her ankles up and behind her, exposing the soles of her feet.

Finally, Orlanda opened up her own brown box and took out 5 long, white feathers. Immediately all the black women were jumping to get at one of them. Miss Simons noticed that Samantha was slightly shaking as Orlanda gave them away.

Soon there where seven or eight girls gathered around a shaking Samantha. The cheerleading coach looked over to Miss Brown and saw a very excited cowgirl watching from the floor. She was enjoying the show as well.

The coach turned her attention back to the spectacle in the center of the circle. A bucket was now being placed on the floor directly below and between Samantha's legs. There was laughter and conversation from all in attendance as the next entertainment was about to begin. The anticipation was *******ing the kneeling coach. "What are they going to do to her? What are they going to do with those feathers and the bucket?"

Her questions were soon answered as the eight girls began to lightly touch Samantha's body. Caressing it with the tips of there fingers or the feathers. This confused Miss Simons. What exactly were they doing to her? But the strain on Samantha's face told her the answer.

As the black women continued to lightly touch the bald girl's body, Samantha struggled to compose herself. But soon she was giving out restrained giggles. Her eyes were starting to tear up as the women began focusing on certain areas of her body. The women began running their finger nails and feathers against the souls of her feet, under her arms, stomach, chest, neck, behind the legs.

Samantha was now openly laughing uncontrollably and sobbing at the same time. And it was clear that it was laughter of utter torment, not humor. Samantha was wriggling in her bonds, desperately trying to get away from the evil fingers as the tormenting women showed no signs of stopping. By now one of the black women found themselves between Samantha's open legs and began teasing her cunt with a feather. Samantha let out a scream to stop, but the woman continued to mercilessly torment the sensitive flesh.

Miss Simons was in awe of the sight before her, eight black women tickling a bald white woman.

After a few minutes other women began replacing them, tickling the poor girl in new ways and places. By now Samantha was in complete agony, shaking against her ropes and laughing and sobbing freely.

After 10 minutes an exhausted Samantha finally lost complete control of herself and released her bladder, letting a stream of urine gush into the bucket below. "How utterly degrading" thought Miss Simons. "To be tickled to the point of loosing control of your most intimate bodily functions. In front of all these strangers no less!" Another shiver went through her body.

Yet Miss Simons hardly even realized her own two fingers working their way along her slit under the cheerleading skirt. The debasement was undoubtedly having an effect of the older woman. Watching as the black women tickled and tormented the submissive, bald white girl was shamefully turning her on.

Trish had noticed as well. In fact she had spent most of the session watching her new white pet. Looking for her every reaction to the scenes before her.

Trish had smiled as she saw the older woman begin playing with herself. It bode well for the young vixen. Oh yes, she had big plans for her former coach, tonight and in the future.

Trish wanted to encourage this response as she lowered her head and whispered again into Miss Simons' ear "Its ok baby, play with your little puss for me. Rub that wet clity of yours, I know how badly you enjoy watching the show. In fact, I bet you wish it were you performing. You wish it were you crawling along while being painted, mooing like a cow. OR perhaps you wish to be the one strung up there with your hair shaved off, being tickled to the point of loosing your bladder."

Miss Simons' eyes grew wide and she shook her head. No she didn't, couldn't possibly have wanted to be like those women. It would be too much. Too humiliating. Too....too....

"Why don't you raise up that nice little skirt Miss Simons and show everybody what your doing under there. Show them how much all this is turning you on."

Miss Simons whined as she did just that. She couldn't stop herself as she began lifting her mini cheerleading outfit to her hips, openly displaying to everyone who looked her very wet, horny pussy, and shamefully continued playing with it just like Jen was.

Apparently, Samantha loosing control of herself marked the end of her show. It appeared to be the goal of these women to tickle the poor bald girl until she had lost complete control of herself. They began lowering the still sobbing, shivering girl to the ground, where she quickly rolled up into a ball.

From Miss Simons view point, she could see the shiny glistening pink lips of Samantha. Just like Jen and herself, Samantha to was all wet.

--

Back on her bed Miss Simons came from her mini trance. A trance that, despite her desire not to, again caused her to recount the debasement of the hours past. And to her total revulsion, she had been feverishly playing with her cunt the whole time.

Quickly she removed her hand from her sex. She could no longer deny it, she was incredible turned on by what had happened tonight. And she was no longer angry for feeling that way, just merely disappointed. She wanted to believe that it was all a lie what Jennifer said, that natural dominance was not a fact of life. That she really didn't want to be dominated by other black women. But her juicy fingers were proof of how she felt. She enjoyed watching those white women get treated like crap, and worse, herself.

She knew all too well who went next after Samantha's performance. It was her turn. Her's and Amber's.

Miss Simons buried her head in the pillow and started screaming "No...no". She couldn't, wouldn't remember it. It was just too much...Too intense....Too humiliating. Her and Amber ....together....with all those people watching. And that GIANT dildo, and that evil cane, and Trish's smacking hand.

No she would not allow herself to recall anymore. She refused to allow herself to do it. What was done was done, but she wasn't going to continue to relive her own degrading moments.

Turning off the light Miss Simons powerd herself into a fitful relax. Tomorrow was another day, and she'd start from there. Unfortunately for her, with relax come dreams. Often vivid, nightmarish dreams of days past.

Monday morning Jessica arrived at school early. She hadn't had a good nights relax the whole weekend. Her nights had been one big emotional blur, leaving her tired as she arrived to work. During the days she had managed to successfully block out the degrading activities of Friday night from her mind, and was confident that today she'd be able to do just the same.

Never the less, Miss Simons was obviously a wreck as she stumred into the large school building, but still managed to make it to her first room with out looking too out of sorts.

The "official" cheerleading coach of Dalefield High did have other responsibilities at the school. Besides her cheerleaders she often assisted other teachers, doing various errands and tasks. She didn't like it, but it paid her well enough and usually kept her occupied until after school.

But today would be the first time she'd actual pay attention to actual teacher/student interactions. Last sunday evening she had again questioned herself and asked the question "Was it true?" Did white women really have a natural desire to serve black women? She herself was almost tired of questioning this theory. Trish had proven it time and time again to be true.

But despite watching first hand the presentation of her own cheerleaders, the white women at the party serving as play things, and her own desires to submit to Trish, something still didn't seem right. Did all white women feel the same way? She had to find out, and the school was the best way to do that. Her plan was to watch and listen. To study if there where other teacher's like herself at the school that had similar submissive desires with their non-white female students.

Her first class was with Mr Brodan. Yes he was a man, but a white man. Was there also something to this natural dominance with the males? Not that she was able to tell. Yes some of the black students were generally more rude to him, but he composed himself rather impressively, and didn't appear to show any submissiveness to them.

After two classes, she was with Miss Jenkins. Yes she was a woman, but a black woman. Yet it was still worth a look. But here to nothing seemed out of the ordinary. However, Miss Simons did notice for the first time that Jenkins treated her a little differently than normal. Almost like she were less....equal. But it was probably just her imagination.

Another two classes went by before she went to Mrs Clark's room. Now Marsha Clark was white and definitely a woman. She was roughly the same age as Miss Simons and married, with 3 youngren. She was a good woman and Miss Simons had a lot of respect for her and her work ethic.

But even with that high level of respect, former coach wanted to see that respect tested. She wanted to now if Mrs Clark was or was not susceptible to Trish's famed "Natural Dominance" as well.

Miss Simons would get her test. The class that was being taught was Algebra, and comprised of a general mix of students, including a rude group of black girls who held the corner of the classroom. From days past Miss Simons could remember their usual class disturbances, but rarely paid attention to how they affected the white teacher.

Well today was no exception. As Mrs Clark was giving a lecture and writing on the board, three of the girls were engaged in their own conversations. Several times the teacher turned around and look at them coldly, but when she turned back they'd simply resume talking. Every time Miss Simons would hold her breath.

Finally at one point Miss Clark told them sternly to behave themselves or ELSE. Two of the girls immediately went quiet. But a third, Brandy, didn't.

After a few moments Brandy, clearly the oldest of the girls continued trying to talk to her friends.

"That's it young lady, Detention!"

Brandy's mouth flew open in surprise and anger. She apparently didn't believe that Mrs Clark would call her out like that, but she was wrong. Miss Simons couldn't believe what she had seen either. Mrs Clark had actually stood up to Brandy. It meant that none of it was true. Brandy, a young black girl was put in her place by a white woman just like her. It proved there was no such thing as natural dominance. White women didn't have to submit to black women.

Miss Simons was beyond happy. At that moment all she wanted to do was give Mrs Clark a huge hug. She just had to know how she stayed so cool and in control. How did she stand up to this black teen so boldly, something that she herself had not been able to.

After class she went to talk with her new inspiration.

"Hey Marsha. Great class today."

"Oh thanks Jessica, I'm glad you thought so. Its sometimes not easy when you have kids acting up, but overall I thought it went well. So what's up?"

"Well I was just admiring how you handled Brandy today. She was really causing a problem." Mrs Clark oddly seemed to tense up a little at the mention of Brandy's name. Miss Simons only barely noticed.

"That? Oh its no big deal. You just have to know how to set these kids straight. Be stern with them and they'll crumble."

"You certainly did with her. But....are you always able to handle things this well?"

"What do you mean?" Marsha gave her a quizzical look.

"Well, I mean you know how rude girls can be sometimes, especially....the black ones..." Miss Simons could see the woman begin to fidget a bit in her seat. She wondered if there was something wrong, but continued "... So do you ever have any real problems with them?"

Mrs Clark's eyes narrowed as she looked at Miss Simons, almost as if she were studying her. Then after a moment she responded. "Listen Jessica, I'm not really sure where your coming from but if your looking for advice, I recommend avoiding confrontations with any of your students, even black girls. It can sometimes...cause you problems. But just remember what I told you before. Be firm with them and they'll respect you."

That was all Miss Simons had to hear. It made perfect sense. If you wanted respect you had to demand it. Mrs Clark demanded respect from Brandy, and she got it. And why couldn't she do the same? What was stopping her from being firm with Trish and putting her little black behind in her place? And to think she had freely went to that stupid, humiliating party just for the honor of being one of Trish's cheerleaders...."ugh" she grunted as she marched her way down to the locker rooms. It was time to take back her squad.

---

"TRISH, GET IN HERE!" Yelled an inspired Miss Simons from inside her former office. Trish had just arrived and was surprised to see her old coach yelling in such an aggressive manner.

"What's this all about?" She wondered as she dropped her things and moved towards the office, now her office.

"Hello Miss Simons, how those tits of yours? Still hurting from friday?"

The quick statement caught the older woman off guard and despite her new demeanor she blushed. A quick image of the cane flashed through her mind, before composing herself once again.

"No Trish, they do not still hurt. Now I have something very important to discuss with you." Trish watched her coach intently. "I've finally had enough of all this nonsense. You and I both know that all this mumbo jumbo about 'natural dominance' is just garbage."

Trish wanted to smile, but played serious. "But Miss Simons, you saw for yourself at the party. The way those other white girls submitted. Even yourself."

"Trish, I realize now that you simply tricked me into believing it. There is no genetic disposition in white females to submit to black females and you know it. Now enough is enough. Your little games will come to an end. Starting with who coach's this squad."

There she had said it. Finally she was firm with Trish, just like Marsha had been with Brandy. Now she was sure that Trish would crumble before her.

But in actuality, while Trish stood listening to her former coach, she was getting quite amused by the whole thing. She so loved it when her white pets struggled and resisted. It made it so much more enjoyable when they finally broke into presentation. But where did this come from? How did she come to this new inspiration? Trish new something had caused this change in attitude, and she was going to find out. So Trish asked her just that.

"Miss Simons, where did all this come from? I thought you were progressing so nicely. You were finally truly accepting who you are and what your place is. Now this? What's the cause of all this new behavior?"

"Well Trish, I've seen first hand that it all a lie. Not all white women want to submit to black women. I just got back from Mrs Clark's class. I watched proudly as she dominantly put one of her rude, black female students in her place. When the black girl challenged her, Mrs Clark didn't back down. Now she's upstairs with Mrs Clark right now serving her detention.

"Oh really? And this black girl accepted her white teacher's authority?"

"Yes she did!" Miss Simons spoke proudly.

"I see. Do tell me Miss Simons, what's the name of the punished black girl?"

"Brandy!"

"Brandy huh? Well why don't we go pay a visit to this Mrs Clark's room and see if what you are saying is true after all."

"Uh.....OK, follow me..." Miss Simons was a little unsure she wanted to do this. She didn't want to bother Mrs Clark while she was giving out a detention, but she needed to prove she was right. She needed to show Trish the truth and end this once and for all.

After a brief walk upstairs they arrived outside the closed door of Mrs Clarks room and Miss Simons gave it a light knock. After a moment, Mrs Clark opened the door and greeted her fellow instructor cheerfully.

"Hey Jessica. This is a surprise. Did you forget something?"

"Oh its nothing Marsha, I only wanted to make sure everything was going ok with the detention." As she spoke, she quickly noticed Brandy in the back of the classroom, writing something on the board.

Mrs Clark smiled. "Don't worry about her, I've got everything under control. I have her writing lines on the board. That should keep her busy for a while."

Miss Simons looked at the board and read the first line: "I will not talk in class". Miss Simons turned and smiled in triumph at Trish. Trish gave no response either way.

"So who do you have here with you?" Asked Marsha, looking at Trish.

"Oh....ah this is one of my..... YES, this IS one of MY cheerleaders." Marsha looked confused at the other woman's emphasis on words.

"Hello Miss Clark, my name is Trish." The young girl chimed in.

"Well pleased to meet you Trish. Now if you two will excuse me, I need to finish grading some papers."

"Don't worry, its no problem." Spoke Trish as she pushed her way past Mrs Clark and into the room. Miss Simons began feeling a sense of worry.

"Come Trish, we really must let Mrs Clark get back to work. You see she has a student serving detention."

"Yes I do see. Brandy is it?"

At this point Brandy had stopped writing on the board and was watching the three women.

"You know Mrs Clark, I really do find it fascinating that you would choose to punish Brandy."

By now Marsha was getting a little annoyed with all the intrusion. "Trish, I must really get back to work. And your distracting my student from her task. Please leave this instant."

"No I don't think so."

Mrs Clark paused, surprised at the unexpected response. "Excuse me young lady?"

"I said no. I'm not finished with what I need to do here."

Marsha's face was now getting red as she quickly glanced over to Miss Simons, expecting her to do something about her rude student.

But Miss Simons wasn't quite sure what to do. She had been afraid of this. She didn't want Trish to get into a confrontation with Marsha. But that's exactly what was happening.

"Jessica, take your student out of my class room THIS INSTANT or she going to be in BIG trouble."

Gosh she admired her tone. So authoritative, so in command. Miss Simons quickly turned to Trish "You heard her, out of the classroom now!" She could feel the authority in her own voice, and it felt good. But Trish wasn't budging.

"Mrs Clark, let me ask you. Do you really want to punish Brandy?"

Marsha quickly snapped back at her question, "Brandy is being punished because she was a very rude girl, which is exactly what you are being!"

Trish appeared unfazed, "Well Mrs Clark I believe this isn't really how you would prefer things."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about whose getting punished. You would prefer it if someone else were getting punished I'll bet?"

Marsha was getting beyond upset at this point and was starting to shake in anger.

"Huh Mrs Clark? I wonder who else you would want to be up there instead of Brandy, writing a hundred times on the board like a bad girl."

Miss Simons noticed Marsha's eyes widen, but still she remained silent. "Why wasn't she responding?" wondered the coach. "Wasn't it important to be firm and stand your ground with these girls?" Yet Mrs Clark continues to just standing there and Trish spoke.

Turning to Brandy, Trish continued, "You know Brandy, I think your teacher has a little fantasy she's been hiding. I think she's imagined this situation before. How about you Brandy? I bet you would prefer if it were someone else being punished don't you?"

Brandy nodded, but still looked worriedly at Mrs Clark, expecting her to yell at any moment. She didn't.

"Tell me Brandy, who would you like that permister to be?"

Brandy didn't say a thing, yet looked wide eyed at Mrs Clark.

Trish smiled and turned back towards Mrs Clark.

"So how about it Mrs Clark? Is this how your fantasy goes?"

"I...I...don't have a fantasy..." Marsha no longer had a look of determination and authority. For the first time Miss Simons could see doubt....and....and...FEAR!

"Oh I know you do Mrs Clark. You remember it don't you? The one with the black student who turns the tables and punishes you?"

Mrs Clark momentarily lost her balance. "Did her knees just go weak?" Questioned Miss Simons.

"Please....stop this....this nonsense right now..." Miss Simons couldn't believe how feeble her fellow teacher now sounded.

"But you really don't want me to stop do you? You actually want Brandy to say no to you. You want her to disrespect you and give YOU detention. Isn't that right?"

By now Trish was right in front of Mrs Clark's face, adding to the intimidation. Marge looked back at the young girl as her eyes slowly watered, "No....no...its not true...."

Trish raised a finger to the trembling older woman's lips "Shhhhhhhhhh....Its ok, we wont tell anyone what happens here today or how you truly feel. It'll be our little secrete."

Trish looked back to Brandy. Both girls exchanged a look of understanding. Then for the first time Brandy took control.

"Mrs Clark, I think I wont be writing any more on the board today. In fact, I wont be serving any more of this stupid detention either. I think instead it would be so much more fun if you served my detention for me. Yes I like that idea very much. Why don't you get your big white butt over here and take over for me!"

In astonishment, Miss Simons watched as her admired teacher and co- worker sheepishly walked slowly past Trish, past a now very confident Brandy to the board. The board already had three complete lines written on it, "I will not talk in class!"

Miss Simons could see a glazed look in Marsha's eyes, as if she were experiencing a dream, a fantasy that was finally coming true. Gently she picked up a piece of chalk and began writing another line: "I will not tal...."

"WAIT" Shouted Brandy. "I want you to write something else instead of TALK. Write TEACH." Brandy gave a little giggle. With little whine, Mrs Clark wrote the new word. Soon the new sentence was complete as it read, "I will not teach in class".

Brandy stood back in amazement of herself. She could not believe she had just commanded her hated bitch of a teacher to do something, anything, let alone write on the board such a self-disrespecting statement. How far could she push her? Was Mrs Clark really desiring her black female student's domination over her? All this Brandy wondered as she watch her teacher carefully write another line.

But a nod from Trish told her she should indeed push further.

"You know Mrs Clark I really don't like you very much as a teacher or a permister. My friends and I actually think your a pretty lousy teacher, and your such an annoyance. Every time we try to talk about important things like fashion, cool movies, or boys, you never fail to open your stupid mouth and complain. Always whining like a baby girl. Do you realize that nobody gives a cuckolds brownie about your boring class?

Miss Simons watch the newest spectacle before her. Brandy was really laying on her, and instead of taking offense, it was obvious that the usually firm, in command woman was eating up. It wasn't long before her student was even taking shots at her figure.

"And you know what's worse than having to listen to you talk? Is seeing that fat ass of yours every day in class. You really should do something about all that figure Mrs Clark, its so unsightly. You have no idea how much us girls make fun of your body behind your back."

It took another ten minutes until the teacher reached line number 50. The whole time Brandy never let up her insults, and not once did Mrs Clark stand up for herself. The cheerleading coach watched in stunned amazement the whole time. She just couldn't believe what she was watching. It was so unreal.

But things were only going to get worse. By now Trish was getting bored of the show. She had seen this done lots of times to plenty of hapless white teachers. It was time to show Miss Simons how truly un- dominant her admired teacher really is.

"Brandy, why don't you let Mrs Clark take a brake from writing on the board. Besides, I think Mrs Clark has been dying to live out the best part of her fantasy."

"Oh? What is that?" Brandy lit up, eager to find out.

"Why don't you let her answer that herself. Come on Mrs Clark, tell Brandy what you've been masturbating to all this time. What you've wanted your black students to do to you while you try to teach class?"

Marsha turned but sheepishly looked at the floor.

"Tell us Mrs Clark, tell us what you want Brandy to do to you?"

"I want her to....." She looked over to Miss Simons and quickly looked away embarrassed "....punish me!"

Brandy smiled. "You want me to punish you Mrs Clark?"

Marsha nodded.

"But why should I punish you? You've been such a goody goody teacher? And I've been such a bad student. Do you really want me to punish you Mrs Clark? To humiliate you in your own classroom?"

Miss Simons held her breath. She prayed Mrs Clark would refuse to be punished. That she would stand firm to the black girl and retake control of her class room. But that was all lost when the teacher again nodded yes.

Brandy giggle shortly before moving her head to whisper into her teacher's ear.

The teacher hesitated for only an instant, before slowly slipped her dress off her shoulders. It was clear she was now eager to do as her student ordered. For Marsha, this was a dream she had climaxed to so many times at home. She had long fantasized about one of her female students, especially one of her black ones to stand up to her. To turn the tables and humiliate her in front of the class.

But she had long feared of this actually happening. She knew all too well that to submit to something like this was inconceivable. She could never allow her fantasy to become true. To do so would risk losing her career, her husband, her dignity, or at least her students respect. How could she allow that to happen?

But as she removed her bra, she found herself doing just that. She was possibly throwing away everything. But she didn't care. She wanted, needed one of her students to finally stand up to dominate her, to humiliate her, to treat her like dirt. The fact that it was her most miss- behaved student was the clincher.

As one side of her mind reamistered with the stupidity of her actions, the other side begged to fully submit to the black girl. To completely undress before her student and get spanked in that most painful and humiliating of womanly places. Yes she needed this, wanted this.

Her panties pooled around her ankles as she stepped out of them. Only her high heels remained on, which is just how Brandy wanted it.

Brandy came around to the front of her now naked, submissive teacher. She studied the naked, submissive form. Brandy couldn't believe her luck. A moment ago she thought she'd be stuck serving a stupid detention for the bitch. She could never have dreamed she'd now be standing authoritatively before her naked teacher, about to be punishing her instead. But where to punish?

Reaching out, she began playing with her teacher's breasts, admiring the full, mature mounds. Marsha let out a low moan as she arched her chest out to her clack student. Brandy smiled at the offering, pinching an excited nipple as she spoke, "Where should my goody goody teacher like to get her spanking?"

Marsha face was now flushing red with desire as Brandy continued fondling her breasts.

Brandy moved her other hand to Mrs Clarks ass "Is this where you want it? Is this where you want your bad student to punish you?"

The teacher sighed, but gently shook her head no.

Brandy then twisted both nipples hard "How about here Mrs Clark? Do you want me to punish these?"

Marsha gasped in pain, but still shook her head no.

Brandy began moving her hands down, past her teacher's full breasts, over her stomach, and eventually between her teacher's parted legs. Brandy gave a little rub. Mrs Clark breathed deeply as she spread her legs further.

"Hmmmm, so wet. The perfect place for a spanking. Do you want it here Mrs Clark? Is this where good teacher's get spanked?"

Marsha moaned louder as Brandy gave her clit a pinch.

"But I'm such a bad student and your a good teacher. How could you allow a bad student to spank your pussy?

Marsha's eyes closed shut as she gave out a desperate whine.

"Do good teachers deserve to get there pussies spanked by their bad students?"

Miss Simons wanted to cover her ears before she could hear Mrs Clark's response, but she was too late.

"Yesssssss!!!!!!"

Miss Simons ran out of the classroom as fast as she could. She no longer could watch the horrific display. It was almost as bad as the party at Trish's house. At least there Miss Simons had no respect for the white women being humiliated. But here, the last image Miss Simons saw before running out was of the woman she so highly respected standing naked, open mouthed, eyes closed, legs spread, and pussy vulnerable, displayed as an offering to Brandy's hand.

......

She couldn't avoid hearing the distinctive slap, as well as the cry of pleasure emanating from none other than Mrs Clark.

She tried to cover her ears as she ran, but still heard the beginning of countless spanks raining down on the teacher's sex.

By the time she had made it down stairs and back to the lockers, she was completely out of breath and in a daze.

With out paying any attention to any one or any thing, she immediately she ran into the office, slammed the door, threw her head on the desk and cried like she never cried before.

It had been true, all of it. White women were indeed submissive to black women. There was no reamister to deny it any further. Her last ray of hope had been Mrs Clark. A responsible, respected, even feared white teacher.

But the moment Trish worked her magic, she was nothing but a submissive white pig. Now she was upstairs, getting her pale pussy spanked by her student's black hand. A shiver ran up the spine of the coach as she thought of Marsha's now humiliating position, probably begging for more.

After a few minutes of crying, Miss Simons felt a hand gently touching her back. Looking up, it was Trish. The coach had failed to notice the young girl entering the office. Trish had a look of victory in her eyes, yet didn't say anything.

Miss Simons knew there was nothing negative she could say to the black girl. Trish had been right about Mrs Clark. Right about all of it. She knew exactly what the teacher's fantasies were, and made them a reality.

Miss Simons immediately threw her arms around Trish and hugged her tight. What else could she do? She no longer could deny the natural power she held over her. At one point in her life, not too long ago, she would have been sick to her stomach at the possibility. Yet now, as she lowered to her knees and kissed Trish's shoes for forgiveness, she accepted her place as a white woman.

---

You wouldn't know it by watching them that anything was odd. For an outsider, all they would have seen were cute teenage girls jumping and twirling. All they would have watched where girls of innocence.

They wouldn't even have noticed the one particular one who was older than the rest. They would never have known she was actually an adult and not a cheerleader. No one would have even paid a second thought to the crazy idea that she, like all the other white females, had something missing underneath their skimpy little cheerleading skirts.

Trish surveyed her cheering group of girls. Despite the treatment of the white girls of the group, this was cheerleading practice after all, and she wanted to take it seriously. Being in charge of the squad had its advantages and disadvantages. For one, you made all the rules. If you wanted your white girls to not wear panties, then your white girls didn't wear panties. If you wanted your fellow black cheerleaders to have first rights to towels after a shower, than your fellow black cheerleaders got first rights to towels.

But there were disadvantages to. For one, you had to work your girls hard, regardless of the color. If you wanted to win tournaments and respect from other schools, you had to earn it. And that would not come from foot messages and white toy parties.

So Trish did just that, working her girls hard all through practices. Trish made sure she taught each girl how to jump higher, run faster, and cheer louder. This wasn't a game to the young black vixen. Those games would come later with her pets Amber and Miss Simons. But here, she needed to focus.

Trish was actually glad she had settled her momentary butting of the heads with her former coach. Until then she had so wanted her white pet to challenge her. It only made it more enjoyable watching her submit all over again. But this time was a little different. For the first time she felt unsure of herself her coach confronted her.

True she got an enormous rush bringing down yet another hapless white teacher, but it still created a sense of fear in her that she might not win this time. That natural dominance would not rule the day after all. It was the first time she felt unsure of herself since she had been a young, watching her own lady humble a former teacher.

That day she was shocked to hear her lady talk the way she did to her white teacher. Trish had even expected the teacher to punish both lady and flower for daring to disrespect her. But it was mommy doing the punishing that day with the teacher's own paddle, and flower getting her cunt licked.

Back then she had no idea of the power of natural dominance, where white women feel the need to submit to their superior black counterparts. But as Mrs Clark stood before her, barking at her to leave, for that brief moment she questioned her dominance.

But it was all for not. Like all good white girls before, Miss Clark or Marsha as Brandy now calls her, quickly put Miss Simons to shame when she practically begged her black student to spank her pussy. Not even Trish could have hoped for things to turn out so well.

But they had turned out very well indeed. Even so, Trish still remembered the lingering fear of doubt that had creped into her mind, and all she knew was that she didn't want to feel it ever again.

Over the next two weeks the Dalefield High football team played their games away, leaving the squad plenty of time to practice, and practice they did. Cheers, jumps, swirls. All done to perfection. But talent is only half the show. Trish knew what really brought fans to the stands.

Almost every cheer was deliberately designed to display the white girls "assets" to the fullest, much to the silent disapproval of Miss Simons. There wasn't a single cheer that didn't have a white girl's skirt flying up in some manner, either by jumping high, or bending over to touch their toes. Rest assured Trish made sure there was plenty of pink showing at all times.

Some of the "special" cheers were even designed for Miss Simons herself. She knew she'd just die when it came time to do them for real.

The absolute worst part of every practice was their daily runs. After every practice, Trish would have all the girls do a hard vigorous run, leaving all of them desperately heaving for breath. Trish liked her girls to have strong, athletic legs.

Though not as bad as the dreaded "Lap Run", it was still a grueling run none the less. And poor Miss Simons had no luck with this activity. Besides the little matter of running in an outfit designed for a 14 year old girl, it was clear she wasn't as physically fit as the rest of the girls. True she was getting better overall every practice, but she still looked foolish trying to act the part of a teenager. The girls (black or white) would laugh at her endlessly as she did her best to coordinate her heavier middle aged body to the cheers. Girls can be so cruel.

Often she found herself wanting to run off in tears, but never, ever thought about quitting. She wanted to be Trish's white cheerleader no matter how hard it all was for her.

And hard it was. The runs were sheer *** to her. Of course she would always be last, and her large bouncing breast never failed to pop out of the small top at least six different times during a run. Despite her sore boobs, she absolutely detested the way the other cheerleaders who finished ahead of her still get their kicks out of swatting her chubby cheeks red. It made the run all the more difficult.

After practices nothing much had changed. In the showers, white girls paired off with black girls, where they gingerly washed and cleaned their black bodies. Despite her better efforts to pair with Trish, Miss Simons still found herself stuck with little Sasha, the young black girl.

She so envied Amber for her heavenly task. She so wanted to replace the blonde cheerleader, to be the one kneeling before Trish's well toned dark body and wash its every curve. But Sasha made sure the older coach was her's during shower time.

Miss Simons really didn't mind cleaning Sasha's body. Though not as physically appealing as Trish's, the young girl still attractive. Cleaning her always got the former coach a little excited. If it weren't for the fact that she was getting wet from the showers themselves, she just knew her pussy would be all wet on its own.

It wasn't long before the coach was actually enjoying her moments with the young cheerleader. She looked forward to washing the strong legs, as all black girls have, and felt her most submissive when gingerly cleaning the blackened inner folds of the girl's sex. Sasha for her part felt her most dominating at these moments. She so enjoyed spreading her legs before her former kneeling coach and feeling her fingers manipulate her labia with her fingers and a wash cloth. Despite the obvious stimulation, the whole thing was just so erotic.

Yet these showers were less than totally satisfying for the horny black girl. There wasn't a shower that went by where Sasha didn't encourage her coach's tongue to be part of the cleaning process. If it wasn't for Trish's constant disapproval of sex in the showers, Sasha would have her coach's white face buried between her legs in no time.

But Sasha could only be frustrated for so long. One day after the showers, as Miss Simons dutifully waited on the floor for her turn at the wet towels, Sasha made her move. One by one, as white girls sitting around her got their used towels, Miss Simons remained on the floor waiting. Sasha had by now gotten dressed in her regular cloths, yet still curiously held on to the towels.

The former coach wanted to say something at first, but quickly knew better than to ask a black girl for anything, let alone the right to a towel. So shivering naked on the cold floor, she patiently waited until all but the two of them were left alone in the locker room.

By now Miss Simons was getting more than worried. What was Sasha going with this? Her question would soon be answered.

"Ohhh, Miss Simons your still all wet. Did I forget to give you something?"

"Ummmm.....Yes Sasha. The towels, may I please have them?"

"No I don't think so. You haven't earned them as far as I'm concerned."

Miss Simons was very nervous. She needed the towels to dry off. She couldn't very well dress while she was still wet and her hair would never dry properly on its own. What did this girl want?

"Earn it? What do you mean?"

"I think you know very well what I mean." With a cute little smile, Sasha gently lifted her skirt, revealing long dark legs and no panties. She sat on the edge of the changing bench and spread her thighs with a smile.

Miss Simon's eyes widened at this latest display of brazen female domination. She never got used to these black women treating her like a white plaything, and here again she was staring deeply into the darkness of a black girl's sex.

The coach wanted to tear her eyes away, to rise from the floor and say no to the young cheerleader! She could even walk over to the towel bin, where 20 or so used towels rested. But she couldn't. It was one of Trish's rules, she had to wait for Sasha's towels.

Grabbing a handful of her hair, Sasha pulled the unsure kneeling woman towards her inner thighs. Miss Simons did nothing to stop her. As she got closer, she could only stare at the teen's pussy, both fearing and admiring how powerful it looked. When her face was only inches from its intended goal, Sasha held her coach's face still.

"Smell me Miss Simons. Smell my pussy. Tell me how much you enjoy it!"

Miss Simons did as her younger mistress ordered and breathed through her nose. She had intended to only take a quick smell, but the moment the scent tickled her nose, instinctively she closed her eyes and took a deeper breath. She couldn't help herself, it was just so intoxicating. Now that the pussy had been freshly cleaned by her own hands, there was nothing to hinder the pure smell of the black girls sex.

How unfair this all was. No woman should have to smell the scent of another. It meant that one girl was dominant over another. It meant that Sasha's black cunt was superior to her own.

At the possibility of this the older woman's vagina tingled. Could it be true? Could her white cunt be inferior to a black girl half her age? As her lungs filled with Sasha's smell, she admitted to herself that it was true. Sasha's cunt was superior to her own. Why else would Miss Simons be the one kneeling between the girl's thighs instead of the other way around? Despite her mixed emotional feelings, both her cunt and mouth began to water as she inhaled yet another deep breath of the intoxicating perfume. Opening her eyes, she again stared at the object of her superiority.

"How does it smell coach?"

"Wonderful" Spoke the coach breathlessly, unable to hide the husk in her voice.

Satisfied with her pet's response, Sasha resumed leading her coach's face closer until her lips were just touching the young girl's pussy, close enough for her tongue to do its damage. But Miss Simons held still, knowing quite well what Trish had once told her. That she had to wait for permission before eating a black girl's pussy.

Within the moment, that order was given.

"You may worship my cunt coach!"

But she still hesitated. She knew this was all wrong. This was practically a girl she was kneeling before, and she was an adult and her former coach. How could she voluntarily do something like this? Even though her moist cunt and watering mouth seemingly begged to ravage the young girl, it was still wrong. She wouldn't do it. She couldn't. She won't!

Sasha was now getting frustrated watching the mental debating in her former coach's eyes. She hadn't come this far to only be denied. Her cunt needed a tongue bathing, and she was going to get it.

"Awwwwe, what's the matter coach? You don't like eating pussy?"

Miss Simons looked up and gently shook her head no. It was a lie. She so very much wanted to plant her mouth on those black lips. She just couldn't.

"But that's not what I was told. From what I heard, you just couldn't get enough of Amber's used cunt!"

Miss Simons' eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She knew! She knew what had happened at the party. But how?

"Trish told me all about how her brother and uncle filled Amber to the brim with cum, and how you sucked every bit of it back out. You nasty woman!"

The former coach blushed. Sasha was right. She had forgotten how nasty it all had been. She had blocked it all out. She didn't want to remember any of it, least of which her session with Amber. It had been so degrading.

Instantly the moment had come flooding back to her. She could see Amber walking back down the stairs with Trish's brother. Her cheerleading uniform partially torn, revealing a perfect white breast, her inner thighs covered in copious white liquid.

She remembered Trish's lady and the wonderful idea she had. The idea of both cheerleaders putting on a little show. Miss Simons could still see Amber laying down at the center of the watching circle. The way Amber's cunt looked as she slowly spread her legs. The way Miss Simons couldn't stop from staring at the nasty, well fucked cunt, much like she was now staring at the pristine cunt of Sasha's.

She remembered Trish guiding her head the rest of the way, soon mashing her face against the slick folds. Embarrassingly she recalled Trish removing her guiding hands, and watching with the rest as the coach now tentatively licked.

When she heard the first of Amber's many moans, something clicked inside her. As she began licking faster, she realized how utterly degraded she had become. Once a promising high school cheerleading coach, now she was on the floor surrounded by black women watching her orally clean her white cheerleader's used vagina.

Instantly she felt a trickle of juice run down her right thigh and gave out a low moan herself. Before she knew it, she was feverishly cleaning the white girl's cunt, causing Amber's moans of ecstasy to increased ten fold.

Suddenly she remembered Trish's whispers as she licked. Whispers of encouragement. Whispers to lick faster, deeper. Miss Simons knew what lay deeper inside Amber's cunt....male sperm.

While all the other black women watched, Miss Simons shamefully wallowed in complete depravity. Her face covered with male/female juices, stomach filling with sperm, everybody watching. She even remember the tickling feeling in her stomach as her skirt was raised over her backside, revealing to every one her wet inner thighs and sex, not to mention her round ass. She remember the way the cool air felt against her skin, moments before Trish's cruel hand did its work........

"OHHHHHH!!!!" Miss Simons was startled by the loud moan. At first she thought that it had been herself reacting to the imagined spankings from Trish. But as another moan cried from Sasha's lips, the source was unmistakable. Miss Simons was almost shocked to find herself in the mist of feverishly licking the black girls pussy.

"OOOHHHHHHH, that's right white girl, eat that black pussy. Fuck it with your tongue bitch!"

The former coach was surprised to hear the girl speak this way, but did as she was told as she increased her tempo. Still relatively inexperienced, she did her best to stimulate the demanding girl, soon alternating between licking the outer lips, flicking the clit with her tongue, and out right fucking her with it.

Sasha just moaned and moaned as she held the older woman's face tight against her.

"Goooood white girl.....goooood white girl. Eat my pussy...ahhhhhh....you better hurry up.....uhhhh....you wouldn't want my daddy to come in and see what my nasty...ohhhh...coach is doing.....ahhhhhhhh....

Miss Simons filled with fear as she imagined how it would all look. Sasha's man coming in to look for his flower, only to find the adult white woman naked, kneeling between the legs of his little girl. Miss Simons licked as fast as she could, desperate not to let that happen. It would mean she'd lose her job, even go to primister.

"ohhhhh....wow you really do want me to...uhhhhhh....cum fast...ugghhhh....but is that my daddy walking down the hall?"

Miss Simons' tongue grew numb as she tore Sasha's cunt apart, desperate to prevent the disaster of being caught like this.

"I think he's almost here...better.....hurry....ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Suddenly Sasha squeezed her legs hard around the coach's head as she let out a scream of release. She had done it, she had succeeded in getting the bitch to orgasm.

After an eternity Sasha released her coach's face, instantly letting the woman fall back on her butt. Sasha smiled to herself as she admired the way her juices looked on Miss Simon's numb face. Both women were in a momentary daze for different reamisters. Miss Simons recovered first and realized she was shivering, still wet from the shower.

"Please Sasha, may I please have your towels now?"

Sasha ex-haled in satisfaction, then patted her cunt licking coach on the head, before handing her two used towels.

"Here you go Miss Simons, you've earned it, this time." Sasha giggled, before getting up, fixing her skirt and walking out the locker room door, leaving the former coach wet and naked behind her.

Miss Simons remained kneeling on the floor staring at the towels in her hands. At any moment someone could walk in and see her exposed position, yet she couldn't stop herself from getting lost in thought. This was her life now, being a plaything to her black cheerleaders. She wasn't sure if to cry or finger herself at this understanding.

She was just so confused. Why did she need to orally pleasure another girl just to have rights to a towel? Why did she even have to do anything these black women said?

Quickly she recalled the other white women she had encountered. Those women on the path for success had confronted black girls as well, and lost. Jennifer, the important manager now serves ordervs in her underwear at all of Trish's parties. Samantha, the aspiring young woman just out of grad school, now sporting a bald head, serving out her life as a white party slave. Mrs Clark, the dedicated and respected teacher, now getting her daily pussy spanks after school from Brandy. And finally herself. Once the proud head cheerleading coach of Dalefield High, now sucking black pussy just to get a towel.

By now Miss Simons was vigorously rubbing her hard clit. She had made her mind up, she would not cry. As the coach's fingers did their job, she thought of the offense that was still to come. There would be plenty of it. As her orgasm was on the brink, her last thought was of the upcoming football game, where for the first time, Trish would expose her to the world!

"LOLA! Get in her this instant!"

"Yes Mrs Lowenstien? Is there anything wrong?"

"What the hell are these?"

"Those are your panties Mrs, I just had them cleaned for you."

"Then why do they still look soiled? Did you hand wash them like I instructed you to?"

"We'll, no ma'am...I...I...."

"You WHAT?"

"Mrs they were dirty, I just felt better putting them in the wash."

"Gosh you must be dumb. Your just begging for me to call INS aren't you."

"No Mrs Lowenstien, PLEASE, I'm sorry. Here, let me take them right now and wash them."

"And what about the rest of the house? Are you vacuuming and dusting like you are supposed to?"

"Yes, I clean all the time."

"Then why is there dust on these shelves? Gosh, do you really want to be on the first boat back to Haiti?"

"No Ma'am, I'm sorry. I will do better."

"See that you do. There are plenty of immigrant black women like yourself begging to land a job like this. You just remember that."

"Yes Mrs Lowenstien, thank so very much."

(Ring Ring Ring)

"Lola, see who that is calling."

"Right away Ma'am."

With a sigh of frustration at her newest maids incompetence, Cindy Lowenstien resumed changing for the social engagements later on in the day. These engagements always required the wealthy woman to look her best, especially when it made the other women in the community only that much more jealous. Ever since Thomas first slide that large diamond ring across her finger, she'd been the envy of every woman.

But she certainly couldn't do it all with dirty panties. Either Lola learned how to hand wash them properly, or she'd have to find yet another immigrant black woman to take her place.

"Mrs Lowenstien, it is your flower, she wants to talk with you." Spoke Lola as she rushed into the master bedroom.

"Oh wonderful, thank you Lola. Now be a good little maid and wash these like your supposed to." Throwing her silk panties at the humble woman, Cindy turned to walking briskly over to the phone and picked it up.

"Hello baby, is every thing going well?"

"Hello lady. Everything is going....ok. Um....I was wondering if you could please come pick me up from Trish's house?"

"Come pick you up? But I'm getting ready for the Social later today, can't her parents bring you home?"

"Well her parents aren't home at the moment, and Trish says she really wants to finally meet you."

"Meet me? Isn't this the girl who stole your captaincy on the squad? Gosh Amber, I have no idea why you insist on being friends with this girl."

"Please lady, lets not talk about this again. Now write down this address."

Cindy took a moment to find paper and a pen before writing down her flower's location.

"Ok sweetie, I'll come right now. But be ready when I get there. I can't be late to the Social."

"Yes lady, I'll try to be ready...(SLAP)....Oweeee....um....I've got to go lady!"

"Wait, what was that sound. Is everything ok?"

"Ah, yes yes, everything is just fine. Trish was only trying to make me hurry up....(SLAP)....Ahhh....Bye, please come soon....(CLICK)."

Cindy remained standing in momentary confusion. "That was certainly an odd call." In any case she was only slightly concerned as she hung up the phone with her flower. It was indeed rare for her to ever be asked to pick up Amber from a friend's house. Usually the other parents were so happy to have Amber playing with their flower, that they always offered to bring her home permisterally.

Never the less Cindy pushed her pride aside as she readied herself. Putting on a fresh pair of silk panties, she hurriedly put on a fashionable dress before making her way out to the Mercedes. Soon she was off and away from the respected upper class neighborhood and towards the address her flower had given her. As she drove, Cindy couldn't shake away how unusual her flower sounded, and even regretful at having to ask her lady to pick her up.

Mrs Lowenstien knew very little about this new friend of her flower's. Only that she was a fellow cheerleader and the new captain of the squad. Cindy recalled how disappointed she was after learning of her flower's decision to surrender the captaincy to this new girl. It was quite the shame. Colleges tend to look at things like that and being the captain of your high school cheerleading squad could have gone a long way towards getting her into one of the IV league schools. Mrs Lowenstien had big ambitions for her flower.

Never the less, both girls seemed to really be hitting it off. It wasn't long before her flower was seemingly spending all her free time with this girl. So overall Cindy was actually happy her flower found a friend she enjoyed so much. And who knows, maybe they'd even go to the same college after high school.

With a relaxed sigh, Mrs Lowenstien pulled off the highway and continued following her flower's directions into the inner city streets. So into her own thoughts, she hardly noticed the staggering change in style of the houses. What was once slight concern was slowly turning into mild confusion as she slowed her car to take note of the lower income housing.

"This can't be!" Questioned the worried lady as she re-examined the directions again. Turning around, she double backed to make sure she was on the right street. Indeed she was.

Again she looked at the houses up and down the street. There was no mistaking it, this was a lower middle class black neighborhood.

"But why would she tell me to come here?" The very confused women wondered. She just couldn't fathom the possibility that her flower could be friends with another white girl who lived in such a low class neighborhood. Not even for a moment did it occur to her that the friend might not even be white.

Pushing on, she continued on her trek. Pressing further and further into the inner streets despite her worries. Finally she came upon the house indicated on the address. A two story building that looked only slightly better than the surrounding houses, as if some work had been done to it recently.

With her out of place Mercedes parked in the drive way, Cindy made her way to the door and rang the bell.

After a brief moment, the door was opened. Mrs Lowenstien quickly took note of the white woman greeting her at the door and almost took a step back. Though wearing rather raggy clothing with a stereotypical maid's apron, and a feather duster in her hand, the woman looked completely out of place.

She was roughly the same age as herself, but even with her dirty hands and tired face, Cindy knew this wasn't the normal life for this woman. Cindy hadn't become a community socialite for nothing. She could always read a permister's character from the moment she first saw them, and this woman was clearly not what she appeared to be. The manicured nails attested to that, and her eyes spoke of a kinder, more authoritative time in her life not all that long ago.

Why this woman was now standing before her wearing a silly little apron in a black neighborhood was a question she could not answer.

"Hello, may I help you?" The woman asked, with a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"Yes hello, I am here to pick up my flower Amber. Is she ready?"

Cindy saw the woman pause for a moment, looking at her almost with slight pity, then led her into the house.

Looking around, the home looked pretty much like what she'd expect, though very clean. The white woman had obviously taken her duties seriously.

"The girls are upstairs. The young Mistress wants you to go up there to retrieve your flower."

"Mistress?" Cindy wondered. This woman was certainly a well trained maid. But feeling the need to make absolutely sure, she took the opportunity. "Excuse me for asking, but is Trish your flower?"

Quite surprisingly the woman began blushing as she answered. "No....I am the....um....family....servant Jennifer.." She was clearly not proud of her position "...Now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to my cleaning."

With that, the middle aged white women swiftly moved off to dust a shelf. It was at that moment that Mrs Lowenstien saw the picture frames on the shelf being dusted. All of them contained black people. What was once worry, turned confusion, was now full fledged anger.

"How dare my flower socialize with a black girl? How stupid can she be? How does she expect to get anywhere in life having friends like that?" She knew these thoughts were morally wrong, but anger and disappointment flooded her emotions none the less as she stormed up the stairs, towards Trish's room.

Once there she readied herself to burst through the door, but paused momentarily as she heard some mumbling on the other side. Curious, she moved her ear closer to the door, yet still couldn't make out who or what was being said. Moments later there was a loud crack, followed by a restrained cry of pain. Mrs Lowenstien took a quick breath as she realized who had made that cry. It was her flower Amber.

Not waiting another second, she turned the handle and burst through the door. What she saw drained all the red from her face.

Hanging from the ceiling, naked, with a tear strained face was her precious teenage flower Amber. Cindy almost fell to her knees as she saw her dear flower hanging by her hands from the rope attached to the ceiling. Her tan breasts and pert pink nipples quivering under the ragged breathing. The rest of her slim body a criss-crossing pattern of pinkish/red marks.

Standing confidently next to her flower, with a crop in her hand, was a black teenage girl.

For a moment, none of the women said a word. Cindy kept looking back and forth from her flower's tear strained face, to her reddened body, to the crop in the black teen's hand.

Suddenly the crop came down hard against Amber's bottom, eliciting a fresh cry. Cindy placed a hand to her mouth in complete shock.

"Hello Mrs Lowenstien, I've so wanted to meet you. Please undress and take your place next to your flower so that we may get properly introduced."

Cindy blinked several times. The words not registering at all in the confused lady's brain.

"You know how to undress don't you Mrs Lowenstien? Even a wealthy woman like you should be capable of doing it all by yourself without someone helping."

Cindy quickly regained her composer, not believing the audacity of this girl. How dare she suggest such a thing. Who the hell did she think she was, and what the hell was going on here. Mrs Lowenstien was not going to wait around here to find out.

"Amber get down from there this instant, we're getting out of here."

Yet Amber remained where she was, in fact looking back at Trish with fear, who quickly raised her crop and brought it down again against the reddish white cheeks of her permisteral cheerleader slut.

"Ahhh....56...thank you my Queen!"

Cindy had flinched when she heard the odd phrase spoken by her flower. "My Queen?"

Trish looked coolly at the distressed lady. "I don't think she'll be going any where."

"Amber, what's wrong? Why are you letting this...this girl hurt you like this? Please just get down, get dressed and come home!"

Trish lightly stroked her pets nipples with the flexible stick while speaking "Go ahead Amber, tell your mommy why your letting me whip your dumb white ass."

Amber stared at her lady, another tear running down her cheek. "Because....because...." Trish flung the crop down across Amber's chest.

"AHHHHH....because....I'm STUPID mommy!.....I'm just a stupid white cunt.....who needs to serve her Mistress....(CRACK)....uhhhhhh....her BLACK MISTRESS!..... I need, I want to be her slave. Its what I'm supposed to be!"

Cindy began to weep at her flower's words. This is not how she raised her flower. She raised Amber to become a success. To go off to college, to marry a rich man, to have a successful life. How dare she risk loosing all that by giving in and being a slut to a lower class black girl?

Desperately, Cindy look now at Trish with pleading eyes. "Please let her go. You don't need her. There are plenty of other white girls you could take. Please, not my flower, not my baby."

"Yes your flower, yes your baby. She belongs to me now. Isn't that right Amber?"

"Yes my Queen, I belong to you" ....WHACK...."Owwww.....59....thank you my Queen!"

Tears filled the lady's eyes as she listened to her flower's admittance. Her breasts turning red as Trish moved the crop down over the white girl's well-defined stomach.

"Is it really so hard to believe Mrs Lowenstien? That your flower would want to serve a black girl? Haven't you ever felt the urge to serve yourself?"

Cindy stared hard at the black teen through her tears.

"Haven't you ever wanted to kneel before a black woman and kiss her toes?"

"No never! That's horrible. I would never be caught doing such a degrading thing!"

"I didn't say anything about being caught. But privately, like in your home, with someone you've been very disrespectful to!"

Cindy couldn't help but look at the girl with confusion "I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"Amber has been telling me all about your black maid. The one who you behave very rudely to all the time."

Mrs Lowenstien didn't respond. She knew exactly what Trish was talking about. It was often that she had to yell at Lola for doing something wrong. But so what? Where was she going with this?

"Amber tells me that you love to order your black servant around. Having her cook your meals, clean your house, wash your dirty panties."

Again Cindy didn't respond.

"You just can't get enough of ordering a black woman around. But I know something that you'd love even more, (Cindy held her breath) if she ordered YOU around instead!"

Mrs Lowenstien's knees buckled, causing her to lean back against the wall to remain standing. A tingle of electricity could be felt deep inside her belly.

"I bet you want Her to tell you what to do. YOU want to be the one dressed up in a maid uniform. YOU want to be the one cooking HER meals, cleaning HER house, washing HER panties. YOU want to be HER servant. DONT YOU MRS LOWENSTIEN?"

Cindy completely shocked herself as she found her head shaking yes. A cloud of submissiveness was overcoming her. She didn't know how or why what the girl was saying was turning her on so much. All she knew was that her once cold, dry vagina was now hot and moist. Her mind was a swirl of images of her, a rich socialite standing over a sink, wearing a degrading maid's uniform, cleaning her black servant's dirty panties.

(WHACK) "Uhhhhh....60....thank you my Queen."

Mrs Lowenstien no longer protested the use of her teen flower. In fact, she found herself becoming strangely envious of Amber. All this talk of serving her maid was making her...

Trish seemed to know exactly what was going on through the older woman's mind. It wasn't all that long ago, during one of her tension relieving sessions with Amber that she had predicted Mrs Lowenstien would be right at her flower's side if she ever found out what was going on. And now it was time for that to come true.

"Amber, you may come down from the ropes. I want you to bring your lady closer to me."

Mrs Lowenstien watched as her flower actually untied herself from the hanging rope, amazed that she could have freely released herself at any time. In a moment Amber had come beside her, taking her lady's hand, guiding the two of them to where Trish had taken her seat on the edge of the bed. The black girl's smooth, strong legs confidently on display as she sat crossed legged.

Despite being the one standing, Cindy very quickly felt small before the black girl.

"Amber, you may remove your lady's panties."

Cindy gasped at the order. Its implications swirled in her head like a tornado. Yet the moment became surreal when she felt her flower's obeying hands reaching under her dress. As the hands slowly made their way up her legs, a voice deep inside Cindy was screaming, begging for it all to stop before it went completely out of control. But there was an even louder power inside her.

Her breathing became faster and more heavy with each moment passing. Her flower's finger's soon wrapping around the band of her undergarment, beginning the slow tug down. By now Mrs Lowenstien's eyes were locked on Trish's. Unable to look away as her very own flower rolled her silk panties down past her heavy thighs, knees, calves, ankles, and finally high heels. Instinctively Cindy raised her feet, allowing Amber to freely removed her lady's most intimate garment.

Rising again, Amber then handed them to Trish, who with a smile held it up for display on her crop. All three women could see the wet stain on it. The musky smell emanating from it revealed what the stain was from.

"My my my, looks like Mrs Lowenstien is a submissive white doggy just like her pretty little flower."

Cindy moaned at the insult. All her life she's demanded powerful white men and women show her total respect, yet this impudent black teenager was calling her a dog, and she liked it.

Why was all this turning her on so much? How could she get so....horny....losing control like this in front of two teens?

Letting the silk panties fall from the crop, Trish continued her game of conquest. "Amber, you may remove your lady's dress.

"No!" Came the mousy, almost whispering objection from the fast falling wealthy socialite. Trish simply gave her latest conquest a deep, intimidating stare. Cindy didn't stand a chance as she passively allowed her nude flower to grab hold of the top of her dress, and slowly began lowering it.

Mrs Lowentsien's heart was pumping a millions miles as her upper waist became exposed, followed by her intimate pubic mound. This was crazy. For the life of her, Cindy couldn't comprehend how this was all happening. How she was simply standing there submissively, being slowly displayed. All she knew was that she both wanted, and dreaded what was soon to come.

With the dress sliding past her curvy hips, it easily fell to the floor. For the first time she could feel just how truly turned on she was, as the cool air rolled over the cunt juice dripping down her thighs. It was a sight not unnoticed by the black tormentor.

"Now her blouse!"

Passively she watched Amber come in front of her and unbutton her blouse. It wasn't all that long ago that she remembered putting it on, in anticipation of the evening's social engagement. It was clear she would not be making it as her flower soon went to work removing her last protective clothing, her bra.

Another second and Cindy stood completely naked in her high heels.

"Hmmmm, very nice. Its always a treat to inspect the intimate regions of America's wealthy white women. Mrs Lowentien please be a good dear and spread your lips for me with your fingers."

With trembling fingers and not an ounce of resistance left, Mrs Lowenstien, a wealthy upper class community socialite and lady of one, lowered her fingers to her moist sex, and promptly spread her labia lips for the black teenage girl. For the life of her, she couldn't understand how she could be so willing to allow this low class black girl to torment her like this? Why was it all feeling so natural?

"Mrs Lowentien, this puss is really soaking up isn't it?" Teased Trish, as she began slowly rubbing the older woman's opened, excited sex with the end of the crop, eliciting a low moan.

"You know Mrs Lowentien, you white females must really learn your place." Trish gave the trembling white lady's clit a light flick with the crop, making her knees slightly buckle.

"Just look at your flower here, she resisted at first, but now she's become the perfect white subby bitch, aren't you princes?"

With half closed eyes Mrs Lowentien heard her flower's reply "Yes my Queen, I am your white subby bitch."

"You see? I own your prissy flower. Her white ass now belongs to me. Isn't that lovely?"

"YESSSSS" The reply managed to shock to tormented lady. Did she not care for her flower anymore? Did she really find it "Lovely" that her aspiring young flower was now a slave to a low class girl?

The truth of the matter was that because of Trish's incessant pussy rubbing, Cindy would have said anything the young Black Mistress wanted. She needed the attention she was getting, in fact craved it. If only Trish would.....

"Please....."

"Please what Mrs Lowenstien?"

"Please stick it....inside.

"Stick it inside where Mrs Lowenstien?"

"Please stick it inside my.....inside my...."

Trish giggled at the sight of a horny, middle aged wealthy white woman begging to have a stick shoved up her sopping wet cunt, yet too embarrassed to fully admit it. But Trish had other plans at the moment, and they included whipping every one of those voluminous, ladyly curves.

Mrs Lowentien moaned pathetically as Trish removed her ridding crop from her sex. Her wealthy, snobbish lifestyle meaning nothing compared to the frustrating need for satisfaction. Cindy hardly objected when she felt her flower's hands lifting her arms to the ropes above. Hardly even realized the full implications of getting her wrists tied tight, her body stretched and exposed to the black teen coming about, with the wicked crop in her clutches.

"So Mrs Lowenstien, what's the name of this black servant of yours?"

Cindy hesitated for a moment, feeling the crop caressing her body.

"Lola! Her name is Lola."

"Ah, Lola. A very nice sounding name, almost too good for a maid don't you think?"

Cindy didn't respond, still too focused on the caressing stick.

(WHACK) Cindy's ass went on fire as the sting registered in her brain, causing her to cry out.

"ANSWER ME!"

"Yes yes, too good of a name!"

Amber, I don't think your lady is paying proper attention. Go and play with her horny nipples for her."

Cindy immediately started feeling regretful as she watched her flower rise and walk in front of her. No! She didn't want it to be her flower hurting her. Not her little princess.

(WHACK) As Trish connected another painful sting to the rich lady's pale cheeks, Amber reached up and wrapped her fingers around her lady's rock hard nipples. Both lady and flower stared into each other's eyes, with Cindy's pleading for Amber not to do it, Amber almost regretful that she had to.

A cry of pain escaped the lips of Mrs Lowenstien as Amber squeezed her fingers hard together. The lady was powerless to stop the attack while her flower relentlessly pinched and twisted her lady's poor nipples. The whole time, neither women looked away from each other's eyes.

(WHACK)

"So Mrs Lowentien, when you go back home today, who is going to be the new Mistress of the house?"

Cindy bit her lower lip. She knew what Trish was expecting her to say, and she so badly wanted to say it, but....but....

(WHACK)

"I said, who will be the new Mistress of the Lowentien home?"

"Mmmm....my....mmmmaid.....Lola"

(WHACK)

"And who'll be the new servant of the house?"

"I.....I WILL"

(WHACK) This hit against her soar buttocks was the hardest yet. With her flower still a***ing her nipples, the Cindy's body was quickly becoming overwhelmed. She could feel the pulsing of her cunt.

"Who will be doing all the cleaning from now on?"

"I WILL"

(WHACK)

"Who will be cooking all the meals?"

"I WILL"

(WHACK)

"Who will be washing all the dirty panties?"

"I WILL"

(WHACK)

"Who will be spending all her free time kissing her Black Mistress's Feet?"

"I WILL"

(WHACK)

Suddenly Trish moved the crop between the trembling lady's thighs from behind. Cindy was so close to the edge now. Even a slight breeze of air against her lips would send her off.

"So Mrs Lowenstien, who will become the best stupid white subby bitch to her former Black Maid?"

Cindy gulped before fully surrendering, "I WILL!"

(WHACK)

With an un-Earthly scream, Mrs Lowentien's body burst like a dam. Her body shaking uncontrollably as her whipped pussy violently convulsed, freely releasing copious amounts of female juice. With Amber still grasping her lady's nipples, Cindy's body bucked wildly on the ropes for what seemed like hours, before finally becoming limp.

Releasing her bonds, Cindy collapsed to the floor still moaning and cumming at the feet of a black woman. A place she never thought she'd ever be, and a place where she'd be staying for a long long time.

-----

Mrs Lowentien watched as the young male studs did there pre-game exercises. Running, stretching, and generally goofing off as fans filled the stands. Cindy really wasn't even sure why she was here. She had never been very interested in seeing football games, or rarely attended her flower's cheerleading practices. She just had so many other activities that required her presence.

That was of course before she had met Trish. Now those activities seemed less and less important in her life. Last night Trish had ordered the wealthy woman to attend the game, saying she would witness a very special cheerleading performance.

This of course caused her to cancel yet another significant social engagement today, which she had been planning on attending for some time now. Yet she had learned well enough by now not to question a black woman's command. Her new Mistress Lola had ensured that.

Cindy resisted the erg to sit down as long as she could. She had come to the game straight off a fresh paddling. Apparently, her maid training had hit a few bumps with her Mistress and was punished accordingly. But regretfully, she soon took her seat before there wasn't any room left.

"Are you ok?"

Cindy turned to look at the woman sitting next to her. The woman had obviously seen the look of discomfort on her face when she rested her sore bottom on the bleacher seat.

"Ah, yes I am fine thank you." Mrs Lowenstien did her best to look sincere.

"No problem, you just looked like you were in pain. These seats are a bit hard on the backside. So which boy is yours?"

"Boy? What do you mean?"

"Do you have a mister playing in the game?"

"Well no actually, I'm here to watch my flower. She's one of the cheerleaders."

"Oh really? What's her name?"

"Amber"

"Amber! Wow, you really have a beautiful flower. I've seen her cheer before, she's fantastic. Wasn't she once the captain of the squad?"

Cindy momentarily looked away in disappointment, especially knowing the real reamister why.

The woman held her hand out, "My name is Mary Struat."

Cindy smiled at the woman and shook her hand "I'm Cindy Lowenstien." Both women smiled mutually.

"To be honest with you Cindy, I'm not here to watch the football game either. I'm very interested in watching the cheerleaders."

Mrs Lowenstien gave her a quizzical look. Mary laughed when she saw the expression on the lady's face.

"No no, not in THAT way. I'm actually a high school cheerleading coach myself. I'm here to scout the competition. I've heard great things from this squad. Too great actually. You see at the end of each year, the City Cheerleading Association awards the best squad with a trophy. Usually the race comes down to between Jessica and I."

Cindy again looked confused "Jessica?"

"You know, Jessica Simons! She's the Coach of your flower's squad."

Cindy made a fake expression of realization. But the truth of the matter was that she really had no clue who Jessica Simons was, never mind the fact that she was her flower's Coach.

"Any way, usually it's her and I who have the best squad year in and year out. We've actually gotten to have quite a bit of a rivalry going between us."

"So who's going to win it this year?"

"That's what I'm here to find out. Apparently Jessica's added a few new girls into the group that has really catapulted her squad to the top. I need to see what my girls are up against."

Almost on cue, the cheerleaders came rushing out onto the field from the locker rooms. Instantly both women were taken aback by just how many black girls were on the squad, roughly half. Its known black girls are rarely seen on cheerleading squads, so half was really unique.

"Wow, I had no idea Jessica had made such a significant change. Last year she didn't have a single black girl."

"Is it really such a big deal? Do they really improve the squads?" Cindy wondered out loud.

"Well from my experiences, black girls do tend to be a little more athletic. But their authoritative attitudes can get really annoying. I have two on my squad to keep the school board happy, but HALF? That's almost like cheating."

They continued to watch as the girls moved closer to the stands. Cindy could immediately make out Amber. She was as pretty as always, running in her form fitting uniform. But the lady couldn't help but remember where that pretty little face had been not too long ago. Between the legs of the equally beautiful black teenage girl running near her.

"I believe the girl next to your flower is the new captain. I've heard she's very good."

Cindy's tingling cunt spoke of the stinging pain it had once received. "Yes, she's very good indeed." Mary could just catch a hint of embarrassment on her new friend's face.

"I wonder where Jessica is? She usually always accompanies her girls out onto the fields...." Suddenly a look of complete shock overcame the coach. "Oh my GOSH! IS THAT...HER?"

Mrs Lowenstien quickly looked back at the squad, which had by now assemred in front of the stands. For a moment, Cindy was unsure what Mary had been referring to. All she could see were cheerleaders. White ones, black ones, tall ones, short ones, and...and....

She almost had to do a double take before believing her own eyes. Standing in the middle of the squad was what appeared to be a middle aged white woman, dressed up in full cheerleading garb, and looking utterly humiliated. The uniform, obviously too small for her larger frame, stretching humorously across her chest, while barely covering her upper thighs.

The men for the most part hardly took notice, choosing instead to whistle at the teens in skimpy uniforms. But Cindy clearly could hear the women around her giggling as they took noticed of the spectacle. It quickly spread until most were pointing and laughing.

"What on earth is she doing?" Said an amused, yet still flabbergasted rival coach.

Cindy continued to closely analyze the woman, who despite looking embarrassed beyond belief, still managed to maintain a perky bright smile like the rest of the cheerleaders. What ever the reamister for being dressed like that, the woman was apparently taking the act very seriously.

In a few moments the football game began and everybody seemed to calm down as they paid attention to the game. Yet it didn't take long for their eyes to quickly revert back to the spectacle closer to them. Both Cindy and Mary's eyes became riveted on the older cheerleader as she did her best to follow along with the younger girls. It almost became comical watching her struggle to keep her large breasts from bouncing obscenely in her tight top, threatening to pop out at any moment.

But the scandal had just begun. When the girls began to do more physical exercises, a new wave of shock hit the crowd. As different girls twirled and jumped, it was quickly becoming obvious that none of the white girl's had any panties on.

Tone white legs framed the pink on display as men hooted and whistled, while the women bitterly hissed, expressing their extreme disapproval.

As un-usual as the performance was, none of the girls seemed to act as if anything was out of the ordinary. White girls continued their routines unabated, despite the fact that their intimate sexes could be seen by all. While the black girls did seem to have their regulation cheerleading panties on, they to didn't seemed to be bothered by the exhibitionist display of their white counterparts.

A few weeks ago, Mrs Lowenstien would have dropped dead from watching her flower so shamelessly display herself like this in public. Of course that was when she had sat firmly atop the social standings of the community. Back when she had been married to a successful businessman. Back when she was the wealthy, respected, lady of an aspiring young flower.

And on the outside none of that had changed. She was still well respected, still envied of her marriage, and still had a beautiful flower. But on the inside, so much had change in such a short period of time. She had witnessed first hand her flower's submissive service to a low class black girl. She had allowed the same black girl to dominate her mind, body, and soul. And then shockingly agreed to switch roles with her own servant, and is now the maid of her own home, serving Lola in every way. Cindy looked down at her dirty fingernails and wanted to weep, despite the itch in her cunt.

However, the woman sitting beside the distraught lady was thinking quite different thoughts. With a growing evil smile, Mary took in the whole circus going on before her. Never had she in a millions years dreamed of something like this happening. Her arch coaching rival performing like some teenage cheerleader, seemingly humiliating herself for no apparent reamister.

Mary had come here very worried, expecting full well that she'd lose this years Cheerleading Award to her despised rival. But now, as she watched Miss Simons foolishly prance around, exposing herself, she knew she'd be the one winning when she was through with her.

The rest of the game pretty much went the same. Despite the occasional breast pop out of Miss Simons, nothing else surprising took place. Except at the end of the game of course.

While most of the women in the stands had calmed their hissing and taunting down to mild bitterness, the men and young boys never let up in their excitement. So it was really of no surprise when one by one, a black cheerleader would lead a reluctant white cheerleader off to the side fences where the local boys seemed to be gathering. At first it was difficult to see what was going on. The fence, being off to the side, made it hard for most spectators to witness. But soon it became apparent to both Cindy and Mary what was going on.

One by one, a black teen would present a white girl in front of the fence, and while standing behind her, would unceremoniously peel back the uniform top of the white girl, exposing the pale breasts beneath to the hungry hands.

From behind, Cindy could clearly see Trish presenting Amber to a group of boys, who jousted for position as Trish lifted the top. Mrs Lowenstien felt numb watching her flower get fondled in public by strangers.

Miss Simons was no exception as a young looking black girl guided the heavy footed older woman to the fences, where her large orbs where displayed as well. Mary could just see the grimiced look on the face of her rival as an older man gave them a hard squeeze. Not finished with her task, the black teen took hold of the front of Miss Simons' skirt and lifted it up as well, allowing full access to the flesh that lay beneath there.

Having seen enough, Mrs Lowenstien rose to say goodbye to Mary. Then she hurriedly made her way to the Mercedes. Her Mistress was expecting her home shortly, and she still had plenty of cleaning left to do.

Mary on the other hand continued to watch with excitement at the never ending spectacle. She just couldn't believe her luck. No longer was she preoccupied with thinking how to best her rival. Instead she was thinking up all the delicious ways she could take full advantage of her rival's stupidity. And the ones she came up with made her smile.

-----

Miss Simons meekly followed behind Sasha as they exited the field. Her tender breasts aching under the tight fitting top due to all the pinching and squeezing. This easily reminded her of the time she had scolded Trish for encouraging this type of shameful displaying.

Now she had willingly allowed her own white breasts to be revealed, to be manhandled by complete strangers, as well as having their nasty fingers probe and prod her sex. Gosh she needed a shower.

But it was all over, at least for now. For weeks she had dreaded the day of her first real performance. The day she'd have to face the world and perform as Trish's newest "Little White Cheerleader".

But she had done it. She had proven to Trish that she could, at least she hoped she did. Never the less it was over for now. She didn't have to hide her eyes from all those women shaming her, or all those men salivating at the older slut with no panties. Yes indeed it all had been very embarrassing.

Back inside the locker room all the girls had begun undressing for the showers. Miss Simons couldn't help but stare longfully at Trish as she pealed off her uniform, revealing her sweaty dark statue-esc body before strolling into the showers. The former coach no longer challenged the notion of Natural Dominance. She now knew her place as a white woman serving a black. She had fully accepted it. She wanted nothing more than to become Trish's slave. To be down on her knees worshiping those feet, kissing those strong black legs, planting her tongue deep into her Mistress's round ass.

But that job was Amber's. Pretty white Amber. Miss Simons found herself getting jealous and angry at the attention Trish gave Amber over herself, but she knew why. There was no way she could compete with the white teen. Her toned body looked almost as good as Trish's, only it wasn't black. Never the less her long blond hair, perky tits, and athletic build was more than anything the middle aged former coach could compare to.

And as proof to that, Miss Simons took note of the new tattoo present on Amber's ass as she disappeared behind Trish into the misty showers. Written in small but decorative letters on her upper left cheek were the words "Trish's Property".

With a slight sigh, Miss Simons removed her uniform and followed Sasha into the showers where she began her now regular chore of lathering up the young girl's black body. Rubbing her shoulders, then her back, followed by the light washing of her small pert breasts and belly. The hardening dark nipples spoke of Sasha's growing excitement. As Miss Simons kneeled to the floor to wash Sasha's legs, it was becoming obvious Sasha wanted something more than a simple cleaning.

"Hmmmm, good coachy. Rub my soar legs, that feels soooo good."

Miss Simons continued to message her partner's thighs as commanded, hoping it would be enough to satisfy the young girl. She should have known better.

"But you know what would feel even better don't you?"

Miss Simons didn't answer, knowing full well where she was going with this.

"You did a most excellent job on my puss last time. I wonder if that looong pink tongue of yours is still numb?"

Again the coach didn't speak, only shaking her head no slightly as she began washing the girl's strong calves.

"Great to hear. I think I might just be using it again today after the showers. How does my coachy feel about that?"

Miss Simons looked up at the young black girl with worried eyes. "Please, no Sasha...I....I can't. Not again."

Sasha simply smilled back at her. "Don't give me any of that silly. I saw perfectly well what you were doing after you finished licking me last time. You couldn't rub that clitty of yours fast enough."

Miss Simons gasped as she felt Sasha's big toe pressing into her sex, scratching her clit. She had lifted her right foot between the knelling thighs of the older woman. Miss Simons couldn't help but let out a low moan as she closed her eyes and found herself rubbing her hips back.

"Doesn't this feel good coachy?"

"Huh huh!" Was all she could muster.

"Do you want me to continue?"

The coach nodded her head yes. She needed this after all the attention on the field.

"Sure thing.... right after you lick my puss!"

Miss Simons opened her eyes wide at Sasha. She couldn't mean right here, IN THE SHOWER? Taking a quick look around, clearly a few of the girls were looking her way, watching the game being played. Miss Simons looked over at Trish, who was slightly bent over against the wall as Amber gingerly washed her shapely ass.

"Go on, do it quick. She'll never know!" Sasha gave the quivering clit one last flick with her toe before lowering her foot to the ground and spreading her legs slightly.

Again Miss Simons looked over to where Trish and Amber were. Trish had specifically forbidden any sexual contact between the cheerleaders. Yet here she was, kneeling on the wet tile floor, staring at the dark lips of the girl's vagina. Last time she was in this position, they were alone and it had taken forever for the young girl to cum. Now they were being watched by several of the girls and Trish's disapproving eye threatened to turn around at any moment. But all she had to do was give her a quick lick. A quick flick of the tongue and she'd get her own pussy played with by Sasha's scratching toes.

Miss Simons moved her head forward as she positioned her mouth up near the heated pussy. Then she darted out her tongue. But instead of it coming back into her mouth as expected, she found her entire face wedged between Sasha's thighs, her tongue implanted inside the pink cunt.

A muffled moan escaped the captured coach as she realized Sasha's hands were firmly holding her head against the dark sex. Jessica tried to wiggle out but it was no use.

"You better hurry up and get to work before she turns around to see what the horny white slut is doing!"

Miss Simons paused only briefly, followed by Sasha's deep sigh as her former coach hungrily went to work on her cunt. Miss Simons began flicking her tongue anywhere it would go. Every second counted. With the hot water beating down on her back while she attacked the young girl's clit and lips in the desperate effort to make the brat cum. The last thing she wanted was for Trish to discover what she was doing. It would only mean trouble.

But thanks to her efforts, this time she could feel Sasha's cunt begin to quiver. Another moment and she'd be on the verge of orgasm. She was so close. Just a second longer and ......

Miss Simons' own vagina exploded in intense pain as someone began pinching the hell out of her red engorged clit, causing her to clamp her teeth down hard around Sasha's clit as well, eliciting a horrible scream from the black girl. Both females shuddered and collapsed to the ground in wave after wave of pain and pleasure. Miss Simons' clit struggled to throb and pulse as the mysterious, unmerciful fingers continued to squeeze her little bud flat. In another moment, she ****** on the tile floor, the hot water still beating down on her naked limp body.

-----

"Miss Simons, get in my office this instant!"

Jessica moaned as she rolled over, barely hearing Trish's demands as she came to on the floor of the showers. Looking around, she quickly noticed all the girls had gone and all the showers had been turned off. She herself was still naked but relatively dry, except for the wet matted hair.

"I said get your white ass in here. MOVE IT!"

Trish's voice came from the coach's office, her 'former' office. Trish was apparently in there waiting for her. As she rose, the pain in her used clitoris was still throbbing.

Stepping out of the shower she searched momentarily for a dry towel, but only succeeded in finding a pile of soaked ones on the floor. Wrapping one around her as best she could, she moved into 'Trish's office'. Inside she found Sasha and Trish. Sasha was completely dressed, yet sat uncomfortably in the chair across from Trish. Her clit must also still be hurting.

Since the only chair was already taken, Trish motioned the toweled woman to kneel on the floor next to Sasha. Jessica complied immediately.

"Now Miss Simons, I have been having a long conversation with Sasha about your activities together. I just will not tolerate sexual behavior amongst my girls while we are together. There are certain things I will not stand for and I demand professionalism. So Sasha has agreed to no longer take advantage of your natural submissiveness while you are here."

Jessica felt a sigh of relief. She so dreaded her moments with Sasha.

"However. I have agreed to her suggestion that I give you to her on a more frequent basis."

Miss Simons held her breath.

"We have agreed that after every practice or game, Sasha's man will no longer take her home. Instead YOU will drive Sasha to her house, where you will then bring her off in any fashion she demands. Since we usually have practice three times a week, you will be expected to satisfy Sasha after every single one of them. This will go on for as long as I see fit, do you understand?"

"But....but...." Miss Simons was getting distraught. She didn't want this. It was enough she had to be humiliated at school, now she was being asked to extend it. If anything, she wanted to belong to Trish. To lick her cunt. To bring her off. To serve her after school.

"Please, I really don't feel this is necess...."

"Miss Simons, you will not be giving me a hard time. I have made my decision. Its only fair that Sasha gets the use of your services. All the other white girls are being asked to do much more than you. They also have to serve their partner for at least an hour after school. Amber is waiting for me at my house as we speak."

Miss Simons couldn't even fathom what type of activities Trish and Amber did at her house.

"But since your an adult, and have more responsibilities outside of the school, I am only requiring you to serve the amount of time it takes to bring Sasha to orgasm. Now I wont ask you again, do you understand?"

Miss Simons lowered her head "Yes Trish, I understand."

"Very good. This will start next week. Happy now Sasha?"

Sasha brightly shook her head yes.

"Then you may leave. But Miss Simons, I would like you to stay for a moment."

As Sasha got up to leave, she paused for a moment to whisper to her former coach. "Hope that tongue of yours is ready for what I've got waiting for it. Your going to pay for biting my clit bitch!" And she walked out.

Despite already being rather cold, the deep chill running up Miss Simons' back was completely independent. But as Trish had ordered, she remained kneeling on the floor, basically naked and wet.

"Miss Simons, I just wanted to let you know how proud of you I am. Though you clearly have a lot of improvement left to go, you still performed very well as one of my cheerleaders."

Jessica couldn't help but smile at the complements.

"The men especially loved seeing that older bod of yours giggling in that tight uniform, though I don't think the women liked it very much."

Miss Simons cringed as she remembered the staring and jeering of the crowd.

"Now on to another matter. Don't think that I haven't noticed the way you have been looking at me in the locker room these past few months."

The former coach began blushing.

"I know full well where those eyes are looking in the showers. I've even seen that envious look on your face when ever Amber is tending to me. I think its obvious that it is more than just natural dominance at work here. Admit it Miss Simons, you truly worship me don't you?"

Jessica couldn't bear to look Trish in the eye as she slowly shook her head yes.

"Tell me Miss Simons. Tell me how much you worship my black body!"

Jessica finally lifted her head and looked directly at the young vixen who had so changed her life. The girl who came into her world and turned it upside down. The once authoritative head cheerleading coach of Dalefield High, now nothing more than a naked, submissive pet cheerleader all because of her.

"Oh Trish, I need you so bad. I can't stop thinking about you. Every firm curve, your dark smooth skin, your feminine beauty. Its so overwhelming. I'd worship you every moment of the day. I'd worship you like no woman should. When I see you with Amber, I get so jealous. I want it to be ME washing your body, ME kissing your toes, ME who you take home after practice. I....I love you Trish!"

Miss Simons' eyes watered as she professed her love to her former cheerleader. Pure emotion pouring out of her. For the first time, Jessica could see a look of compassion in the eyes of her goddess as Trish rose up off her seat and approached the kneeling older woman.

Kneeling herself, Trish moved forward to place her lips against her coach's. Closing her eyes, Miss Simons moaned in lust as feelings overwhelmed her. Finally she was realizing her desires. Trish was actually kissing her. Jessica opened her mouth to let Trish's exploring tongue enter hers. Her towel very quickly fell off her back, now leaving her completely nude.

Both women continued kissing for several minutes on the office floor, the whole time Trish's hands playing with her pet's breasts. When one of those hands finally reached the coach's moist sex, Jessica gasped. She was quickly reminded of the throbbing pain still emanating from her pinched clit.

"I'm sorry about that baby. I had to do that. I couldn't let the other girls think I would allow you to continue the way that you were."

Realizing for the first time that it was Trish who had so cruelly pinched her sensitive organ, she relaxed and thrusted her hips out further, her sex as an offering.

But Trish pulled her hand away and looking back into the eyes of her former coach. "No, not now. You are not ready yet to worship my body. You haven't earned it. Not yet!"

A look of tremendous disappointment covered Jessica's face. Trish saw it immediately.

"Don't worry sweetie, all in do time. If you continue being my good little white cheerleader, I promise you will be able to worship my black body soon enough. I promise."

Trish leaned forward and gave Miss Simons another long kiss on the lips, before rising off the ground and leaving the office. Jessica remained kneeling on the floor for a moment. She was both excited and frustrated at the same time. She was soooo close to realizing her lustful desire of being with Trish.

But as she thought about her Goddess's last words, "soon enough" Miss Simons spirits were lifted. All she had to do was be the best little cheerleader she could be, and she'd get her wish. Jessica rose off the floor and almost skipped out of the office like a teenage girl in love, failing of course to notice the small puddle her overexcited cunt had left behind.

-----

(RING)...(RING)...(RING)...

Miss Simons barely made it past her front door when she heard her phone ringing. All she wanted to do was get into her bedroom and crawl into bed. All that running and cheering had left her body totally drained. Yet reluctantly she picked it up. She would later regret it.

"Hello?"

"Well hello there Jess! How's everything going with my favorite rival coach?"

Miss Simons held her breath. It was Mary Struat. For years both women had been fighting each other off tooth and nail for the coveted City Cheerleading Award. What was she up to this time?

"Everything's...going...ok. How are things with you Mary?"

"Well to be honest with you Jess, until very recently I had been quite worried about this years results. As good as my girls are, yours have just been the talk of the town."

"Is that so?" Spoke the exhausted coach with a hint of sarcasm.

"Quite worried indeed. Then the most wonderful thing happened."

Jessica didn't like the tone in Mary's voice. She didn't know where this was going, but she knew it wasn't going to be good.

"And what was that?"

"I went to see your game today!"

Miss Simons' heart froze. A rush of implications were flooding through her as she held her breath.

"My my my, it was all quite a sight. Your girls really were....um....entertaining!"

Jessica began to panic "Mary listen, what ever you saw..."

"And I really must say those black girls were a really nice addition, they really do put your group over the top. But guess who I think was truly the star of the show?"

"Mary please, it wasn't what it looked like. I was just...."

"Somebody has an awful lot of explaining to do don't they Jess?"

Miss Simons didn't respond. Instead she just wanted to cry. This woman had witnessed her humiliating performance. Mary could ruin her, or at least ruin what ever was left to be ruined.

Both women remained silent for a moment, before Mary spoke one last time.

"Be at my house in twenty minutes, or certain members of the school board will be getting a very disturbing phone call. Oh, and make sure your wearing that skimpy little cheerleading outfit you enjoy jumping around in so much.

(CLICK)

As the dial tone came on, Miss Simons hung up the phone. It would be a very long day indeed!

The sound of the idle car echoed inside her head as Miss Simons stared out at the low-lit house in front of her. Standing on its front porch was the woman who had called her here. The woman that had brought the tired confused and defeated former high school cheerleading coach to the driveway of her hated rival. With a smile and a wave, the woman beckoned poor Miss Simons towards her. A sigh escaped her lips as Jessica turned off the ignition and took hold of the pompoms resting beside her.

Instantly as she stepped outside, the cool night air blew into her unbuttoned coat, passed her uselessly short skirt, and briskly over the damp pair of panties clinging between her legs. Simons was getting wet much too often these days. Quickly Jessica hugged the coat tighter to her body, and moved towards her fate.

"Well well well. Would ya look at you!", spoke one Mary Struat. Head Cheerleading coach of Saintsville High, and winner of last years county cheerleading championships. Mary had a smile from ear to ear as she gloated before the timid woman.

"Your wearing it aren't you? Show me, else you can just wait out here until the neighbors see you!"

With trembling fingers, Jessica parts the front of her coat to reveal her now infamous two-piece cheerleading outfit. A shriek of joy erupts from her rival, unable to believe it is all really true. Despite seeing the performance during the game, it was still a shock.

"Well don't just stand there, get in!"

With out a word Miss Simons marched into the house, at least great full to get some privacy. Mary closed the door and quickly approached the nerved woman, grabbing the heavy coat and pulling it right off before the former coach could react fast enough, causing the pompoms to fall to the floor. "Turn around!" Mary barked, causing Simons to blink several times blankly before turning slowly around. The latest female tormenter to enter her life watched eagerly.

"Tisk tisk tisk", taunted Mary, causing Miss Simons' face to flush even redder. When Miss Struat reached down to lift Simons' skirt, the former coach quickly darted backwards.

"Oh so now you try to be modest. You sure weren't being that out at the football game today."

"Please, what do you want from me?" Spoke Miss Simons for the first time, eager to get whatever Mary wanted over with as soon as possible.

But Miss Struat didn't respond. Instead she gave a wicked smile and moved past the over-aged cheerleader to a couch not too far away. Taking a seat, she stared for a moment at her trembling victim.

"I want you to cheer for me!"

"What? Are you crazy? I'm out of here!" Simons turned and went for the door...

"You walk out of here, and everybody will know what you've been up to. EVERYBODY!"

Simons paused. How could she have allowed herself to get into such a difficult position? Simons turned back around and stared daggers.

"You don't know anything. You've got no idea how or why I was out there today doing...that stuff..."

"Jessica your right! I simply can't fathom why you would be dressed in an ultra tiny uniform, doing jumps and cheers for the crowd with 'NO' panties! Let alone afterward wondering over to the far fences to let the boys touch your..."

"Stop it! Enough! Please, what to you want from me?"

"Tell me everything. I want to know what the fuck has happened to my biggest rival?"

Simons held her breath. She couldn't tell Mary everything. It was just too shameful. To humiliating. That a simple black girl had taken over her life and her squad. She could never tell, no matter what Mary threatened to do. Nothing was worse than telling her everything. With that, Simons slowly shook her head no.

A persistent glare formed onto Mary's face. Simons knew it meant Mary would not give up so easily.

"Jessica, today I came to your school's football game to see not you, or the football players, but your squad. To see what the city and county have been raving about all year long. What I saw was quite shocking to say the least. All those white girls and no panties. The scandal! DONT think I don't see what's going on here."

Simons felt her soul being ripped out of her. If Mary did know what was going on, her life would surely be over. Never mind she had lost her dignity and the control of her cheerleading squad. If Mary knew the truth, things would really get worse.

"I know the truth. It doesn't take a genius to see what you have been up to. There was once a time when hard work and dedication meant something to you. When putting up spectacular stunts and coordinated movements made your past squads the talk of the town. But that's not good enough anymore now is it?"

Simons shook her head in confusion, not sure where Mary was going with this.

"Your girls haven't got what it takes any more to beat mine. So instead you've sold them out and put them on display. In your eagerness to get the fans in the stands you've powerd your girls to prance around with out panties, flashing their cunts to all. No wonder your squads become so popular. You've turned Dalefield High's cheerleading squad into a strip show!"

Miss Simons jaw dropped again. Miss Struat didn't know a thing. She actually thought Simons had done this all on purpose. That it was all her idea to send out the white girls in such a state, simply to make her squad more popular. As oddly as it was, Miss Simons hid a sigh of relief.

"And to think you could be a racist to! What, you don't think the boys want to see black girls on display as well? To see their little skirts fly into the air as they twirl?"

"No...I...uh..." Jessica was at an obvious loss for words.

"But after all that. After all the boldness of flashing off half your squad, it still wasn't enough was it? You still wanted to take it farther. You're so full of yourself that you actually believed that putting your fat ass into a uniform would seal the deal. That flashing your pussy and shaking those tits would make you queen on the county. Well congratulations Miss Simons of Dalefield High, you did it. Your squads the most popular. And now its time for a little payback."

Jessica swallowed hard. What was Mary going to do?

"Lift up that skirt!"

Jessica began to shake her head slowly no...

"I SAID DO IT....or I'll be placing a call to the city. By tomorrow morning, the great Miss Simons will be out of the job!"

Simons didn't know what else to do. Do nothing, and she'd loose what little satisfaction she had left in her life. Do what Mary told her to do, and she would be admitting what Mary had said was true. Either way she was fucked. So Jessica chose the lesser of the two.

With trembling hands and pompoms on the floor beside her, Simons reached down, grabbed the sides of her tiny skirt, and lifted.

"I'm afraid you're not in proper uniform Jess!" Simons looked at her rival in confusion. "I don't seem to remember panties being apart of the squads regulation equipment. OFF!"

With a new numb feeling covering her body, Simons reached under her cheerleading skirt and began to tug down the matching red panty bottoms. Simons simply couldn't believe the predicament she was in. Last year Jessica wanted to rip this woman's eyes out when she lost the trophy to her, the first time it had happened in five years. Yet now she was in her house, wearing a skimpy, humiliating cheerleading uniform and rolling her panties down her thighs. A perverse chill ran down her spine at the thought, while the cool room air again tickled her moist lips. Why was she always wet?

"That's more like it. Now you're a Dalefield cheerleader. Bring them over to me."

Begrudgingly Jessica walked to her rival sitting on the couch and handed her moist panties. Mary instantly took notice of their state. A pink hue covered Jessica's upper body at the knowing little smirk on Mary's face.

Setting the damp cloth onto the coffee table, Mary turned her attention back to her rival. "Now like before, lift up that skirt!"

Simons, now standing only a foot away from Mary, did as she was told. Trembling fingers and all, she slowly lifted up her skirt giving Mary a clear view between her legs. Miss Straut took a brief moment to view her victim's sex just long enough to confirm her rival's heightened sexual arousal, then looked back up to her face.

"Tell me Jess, does this turn you on? Holding your skirt up for me, as I chastise you about your coaching habits?"

...."Yes!" ....

That's of course what Miss Simons would have said if she weren't trying to hold on to every last bit of dignity she had left. Her moist pussy spoke the truth, despite the head-shaking no upon her neck. A year ago this situation would have made her literally drop dead. Now...things are different.

"I think your lying. I think this is turning you on. Does being under my thumb make those legs weak Miss Simons?" Again a weak, desperately negative nod.

Mary leaned forward and unceremoniously blew lightly at Miss Simon's pubic area. A heavy gasp escaping Jessica's lips as the fast wind tickled and cooled the wet skin of her labias.

"As I said, I see right through your little lies. I had no idea this kind of stuff turns you on. If I had, I would have invited you to my home a long time ago."

Simons said nothing, continuing to hold her skirt submissively up for her tormentor. There was a battle going on in her head. Confusion if you will. She new she should be screaming with anger. Cursing and spiting venom at the snug bitch holding all the cards. This is not why she had spent years striving for championship squads. She wanted to best her rival in everything. Not stand pathetically with her skirt up around her waist, moaning from an outrageous breath on her sex.

Then why was she so dame wet? This wasn't Trish telling her what to do. This wasn't Sasha powering her to lick her tiny black pussy in the showers. This was Mary Struat, her sworn hated rival. Why was she so craving this moment? She wasn't even black. Its so...so...unnatural! Was she becoming a push over to everyone?

Mary leaned back against the couch satisfied she had increased Miss Simons bizarre state of arousal. "Ok Jess, time to show me all of what you've leered being a cute little cheerleader! Go get your pompoms girl!"

In almost a zombie like state, the former cheerleading coach lowered her head and marched over to collect her tools of the trade. She could feel her tormentor's eyes on her bottom as she bends over to get them. Not because Mary enjoyed the sight of her ass, but because she knew it would humiliate Miss Simons that much more. Ever since she began cheering for Trish, her body had become firmer and athletic, which was one of the few things Simons appreciated from this whole ordeal. Even so, she was not proud of the way she was displaying it right now.

With pompoms in hand Miss Simons stood before Mary dreading the spectacle she was going to make of herself in mere moments. For Mary's part, she was thoroughly enjoying this moment. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever thought she could trap Simons into such a position. To think Jessica Simons, at her mercy! Mary quite understood why there was a buzz in her own cunt.

Yet she still couldn't believe it. That her rival would stoop so low in trying to gain an edge. To not only shamefully expose her white cheerleaders to the leering crowds, but to expose herself as well. How stupid she must be to think she wouldn't get caught. It's a shame that Simons was such a racist. Mary wouldn't have minded seeing a little black pussy today. She had always had a small thing for dark skinned women, especially ones with attitudes. But never mind that now. It was time to make the bitch pay for her desperate stupidity.

And for the next hour, poor poor Miss Simons humiliated herself over and over with high kicks, jumps, splits, twirls and the like. A red glow of shame constantly covered her whole body as she was made to do the school cheers. Despite herself, the whole time she hardly ever took her eyes of Mary's face. With every flash of her pussy, and every shake of her breasts, she wallowed in the humorous smirk on her rivals face, craving each degrading moment more than the last. By the time Mary had seen enough, Jessica's inner thighs were completely covered in her juices and her hard nipples ached for attention.

As Mary rose to go get a small towel, Miss Simons worked her breasts back into the tiny top one last time, taking the opportunity to give each sensitive nipple a good pinch before Miss Struat returned. When she did return, Mary insisted on drying Simons herself. If it were possible, Jessica's face became even redder as Miss Struat slide the towel along her inner thighs, taking slow and deliberate liberties around the crest of her legs. Simons closed her eyes at that moment, not wanting Mary to see the whimpering look of presentation in them. Yet Simons was truly mortified to find her hips slowly grinding back against the soft damp towel. Jessica knew that if Mary had chosen to leave her hand their, she would have been coming in no time.

Thankfully she did pull her hand away, rising back up to display the soaked fabric in front of her face. Jessica could smell the musk coming from it. Would her embarrassment ever end?

"It seems the towel is simply too wet to dry the rest of you. It looks like you'll be going home all sweaty and icky! Too bad there's no sexy black and white cheerleaders for you to shower with when you get back home !"

Miss Simons' eyes went wide. Miss Struat couldn't possibly know what went on in the showers could she?

With a pat on the butt, Mary led Jessica out the door with a regretful promise to visit again tomorrow night. Even without the threat of blackmail over her head, Simons probably would have showed up just the same.

The cool night air made her sweaty body shiver as she walked to her car, and by the time she had gotten into it, her pussy was already wet again. The last look Simons had of Mary was of her smug smile as she waved Simons off into the night. Jessica masturbated twice on the ride home and once more in the shower before she finally ****** on her mattress to dreams of black and white cheerleaders and vengeful domineering arch rivals.

--

"Ohhhh...twelve Miss Brandy..."

"Ahhhh...thirteen Miss Brandy..."

"uhhhh...fourteen Miss Brandy..."

"Owwweee...fifteen Miss Brandy..."

Miss Simons stood patiently outside Mrs Clark's classroom after school waiting for her fellow teacher's session with her student to be over with. These pussy spankings have been taking longer and longer as of late, seeing as Mrs Clark's pain tolerance has gradually increased. Even so that hadn't stopped Marsha from complaining to Jessica about it all. Confiding in her colleague that the pain and indignity were simply too much, and how she was dedicated to putting an end to it.

That was over a month ago, and despite all her convictions Mrs Clark was still standing naked in her own classroom open mouthed, eyes closed, legs spread, and hips up and out waiting for her worst student's black hand.

"Owe Owe owe...eighteen Miss Brandy..."

Miss Simons knew just how she felt. She had long since given up her attempts to assert herself before a black girl. There once was a time yes, that she would have put a bitchy black female in her place. But that was before she had met Trish who showed her the path to understanding, the path of natural dominance, and Mrs Clark had learned about it as well.

"Ohhhhh...twenty four Miss Brandy..."

"Ahhhhh ohhh...twenty five Miss Brandy..."

Jessica could hear the heavy strained breathing of her fellow teacher as the assault on her sex finally ended. A few moments later the obligatory palm licking began as Brandy made sure her pet teacher cleaned all the juices she left on it.

"Thank you Miss Brandy for putting me in my place!" A chill went down Miss Simons' spine as she heard that. She knew very well Brandy didn't ask Marsha to say that. It was all on her own.

"Your very welcome Mrs Clark. See you tomorrow slut!"

Brandy gave a girlish smile to Miss Simons as the young black girl walked out of the classroom and down the hall. Jessica turned and walked into the classroom, seeing with great dismay Mrs Clark still standing naked in position against the table, her eyes closed in an exhausted breathing state. Jessica wasn't sure if her fellow teacher had orgasmed or not, but the sight before her suggested she had. Simons still remembered the ultra high respect she once held for this stern and imposing woman.

Miss Simons cleared her throat, alerting the panting woman across from her to her presence. Marsha's eyes flew open in alert, but softened slightly when she saw who it was. Outside of Brandy and Trish, Jessica was still the only other permister that knew of the shameful arrangement student and teacher had after school.

After a few more seconds, Marsha closed her spread legs and stood off the desk, her nipples still hard. With a pink hue of embarrassment on her cheeks, Mrs Clark began to quickly dress in silence. Jessica watching with patience.

Miss Simons was surprised however to see the skimpish under wear Marsha was putting on. Black thong panties and a black breast- enhancing bra. This undoubtedly was Brandy's doing. But the low cut blouse and terribly indecent short skirt that followed was nothing new to her eyes. For several weeks Brandy saw to it that she made her prim and proper teacher as uncomfortable as possible while teaching the class.

The boys of the class were in pure heaven watching the long legs strut around on high heels, and had no problem looking towards the front of the class at all moments when she was facing them. Those breasts threatened to spill out at any moment, and they wanted to be watching when they did.

Brandy for her sake got a kick out of watching her teacher get all the unwanted attention, knowing how much she hated it. But the royal treatment was making her teacher put up with all her crap in class. Unlike before when they would occasionally buck heads, with Marsha usually winning. Now Mrs Clark had no choice but to passively take all the little indignities her evil black student threw at her.

"Mrs Clark, can you move your big butt out of the way, you're blocking the black board and I can't see!" This was just one of the many rude comments Marsha would bow down to, scurrying off to the side and apologizing profusely to the giggles of the class.

The finally bit of self justice were the straight A's she and her black friends received, no matter how pathetic their efforts were in class. Of course, the white kids had no idea why their marks had slowly started going down. If they only knew that Brandy had Mrs Clark by the clit...literally.

"Is there something I can help you with Jessica?" Mrs Clark finally spoke as she finished buttoning her blouse.

"Yes well, we were supposed to meet later tonight to discuss the lesmister plan for next month, but I'll be little...busy..." Flashes of pompoms filled her brain momentarily.

"Oh that's a shame. I was looking forward to getting together. But if you've got plans, then you've got plans."

"I was hoping we could instead do it...now?" Simons knew this was questionable. Its not easy sitting down and 'thinking' with your brain after you've just had your cunt spanked twenty five times. But now really was the only time she had free. Jessica saw the look on Marsha's face and felt she had to say something.

"I know it must hurt. If you really can't do it now I understand. Its just that..."

"I'll be fine Jess. Just give me a few minutes until it...cools down." Marsha was obviously uncomfortable with the discussion that her pussy was the cause of the delay.

"Have you...tried to talk to her? Like we've discussed?"

Simons could see Mrs Clark's eyes widening in fear. She could tell the teacher had tried and didn't care for the results. Instead she simply gave a stoned nod of the head.

"And? What went wrong?"

"She didn't agree. She said I didn't deserve to be treated like a real teacher. That I was a...'Stupid Prissy Cunt Bitch' and that I need to be put in my place!"

"SO? You didn't disagree with her?"

"Oh Jess, I tried. But when I went to move my lips, nothing came out. She just stared at me and I felt like the stupidest thing on the planet. What is it about her that I cannot stand up to?"

Miss Simons held her colleague's hand in comfort, yet wasn't sure if she should tell Marsha all about Natural Dominance and its hold on them.

"When I said nothing, she asked me if I needed to be extra punished for being such a dumb bimbo teacher. She said brain dead white women like me need to learn their lesmister and if I wanted her to give it to me!"

"Please tell me you said NO?"

"Remember what happened last week in class? What I did...to myself under my desk? I know you saw it. I saw the look on your face afterwards..."

Miss Simons thought back to last week, to the moment Mrs Clark was talking about. That day had been a bit disturbing to say the least. Mrs Clark had just assigned the class to read several chapters in their text books. This was nothing new, as Clark often made the class read in silence as she checked their assignments at her desk.

Except this time, things seemed a little odd. Ok a lot odd! While Miss Simons sat off to the side of the room, making sure the students properly read, Mrs Clark's shaking body caught her attention. When Simons turned to look her way, she saw a very distressed teacher pleadingly looking in Brandy's direction. While Marsha was shaking her head hopefully no, Brandy was shaking hers demandingly yes.

After brief few moments of this, Mrs Clark's head dropped in defeat and raised a trembling hand to her top drawer. Reaching inside, she took hold of an object and raised it out of its storage. It was a small paper clamp.

Jessica watched in confusion and mild curiosity as Mrs Clark held it up in the air for a moment, her mind obviously trying to resist what ever it was she was about to do. Then, as apparently all good white women do nowadays, Marsha surrendered her will and lowered the clamp below the table, between her legs, under her skirt and...

Miss Simons jaw dropped when she saw the immense look of pain on her fellow teacher's face. "No! She did not just! She couldn't have!" Simons chanted in her mind.

With watery eyes, Mrs Clark removed her hand from under her skirt with out the clamp, only to reach back inside the open drawer and pull out another. Just like before, she slowly lowered it below the desk, between her knees, and under her skirt...!

Tears were beginning to run down Mrs Clark's cheeks as new pain clashed across her face. Miss Simons had no idea where those clamps were being attached, but had a vague and sympathetic idea. With amazement, Simons watched the once no-nonsense teacher reach yet again into the drawer and pull out another clamp. With tears still running down her cheeks, Mrs Clark was now looking timidly at Brandy before mouthing the word "PLEASE"! Brandy simply stared back unmercifully.

Down went the hand, beneath the desk, between her thighs, and up her skirt...

Several students suddenly looked up in surprise and concern when their teacher gave quite an unexpected yelp from her desk, before seeing her drop her head on the table and her fingers scratching at the top of the desk. Immediately Miss Simons had reacted to the situation and told the students to get back to reading, all the while consoling Mrs Clark and encouraging her to compose herself. But never once did Simons question where those clamps were put, until now!

Marsha took a moment, staring at Miss Simons questioning face, before sighing again, "What you saw that day was my punishment for trying to get her to treat me better. For being a stupid dumb bimbo white teacher who can't think straight and 'respect' her black student's rights to torment me.

"Marsha," Mrs Clark began, "Where did you put those clamps?"

Mrs Clark's eyes began to water as she looked at Jessica, "On my pussy!" She began to sob slightly as she held Simon's hand tighter. " Two on my...labia lips...and the last one on my...clit...!

Miss Simons closed her eyes and shook her head. Oh had the mighty have fallen. Gone was the dignified, bitch who once ruled this class. Replaced was a timid, shy, submissive white woman who willingly put paper clamps on her pussy for a black teenage girl.

"I had to wear those retched things for the rest of the day. I can't remember a single thing that happened I was in so much pain. Except of course for after school, when I presented my cunt to 'Mrs Brandy' to show her that her good little pet teacher had followed her instructions. She rewarded me by spanking the clamps off to my screams."

Both women hugged each other in comfort. Two women, once Queens and rulers of their domain, now submissive little playthings to their black subjects. And the worst part about it was, they both wanted it!

---

For the rest of the week, Miss Simons suffered (and enjoyed) an extra dose of humiliating experiences. Every evening she found herself at the home of her most hated rival, wearing the most undignified cheerleading uniform, with out the panty bottoms of course. Every day saw Mary increasing the offense more and more. Early on she tired of seeing Simons constantly having to catch her tits from popping out, and so got great thrills powering her to cheer with out the top, watching them fly about on her chest. Simons also became very intimate with her pompoms, prancing around the house with one in her pussy and the other up her butt as she performed "Dale Field High to Victory", a cheer Mary had always despised until now.

The absolute worst was when on Friday Mary presented Simons with an honorary cheerleading uniform from her own squad. The green and white material was so unbelievably tiny, it would have had problems being put on a ten year old. But wetter than ever, Simons humored her former rival by squeezing into them and willingly chanting the other school's cheers. Jessica didn't know if she wanted to cry or masturbate to this newest low, so she did both, right there on the living room floor as Mary took pictures.

Of course Simons had other obligations after school through the week as well. Twice, on Wednesday and on Friday there was cheerleading practice. By now things had pretty much gotten routine on the squad, if you can call the things that went on routine. Every practice was aimed at highlighting the black girl's athletic abilities, while at the same time exposing as much of the pale and pink flesh of the white girls as possible. Trish had become so daring, that she came up with some of the most blatant stripper like routines yet.

One of her favorites was having the white cheerleaders do hand stands right before the bleachers, only to have the black girls stand behind them holding their legs apart. Simons could only imagine the gasps and whistles from the crowd when this would be done for real. Another favorite was 'sneaking' up from behind and lifting the white teen's top when she was right before the crowd. The poor devils did their best to act all ashamed, but they clearly knew this was going to happen. After all they had practiced doing it several times.

Miss Simons new that these things were wrong and that she once had the power to put an end to it. Sometimes she would see the looks on her white girl's faces when they were powerd to do something extra humiliating. The look of "Miss Simons, we trusted you!" was written all over their faces. Knowing how she had betrayed their trust hurt her a lot, but made her feel hornier a lot more. She simply couldn't help it. She was like them now, a submissive white cheerleader, kneeling before sexy black feet.

And it was those sexy black feet that Miss Simons was thinking about while she was busy rubbing her soar breasts against her chest after just finishing a vigorous jumping routine. Especially Trish's feet. Just about all she ever thought about these days at practice was serving those pretty toes. It was no secret that Miss Simons had a big thing for the amazon like black beauty. Even the white girls poked fun about it behind her back. Jessica wasn't quite sure why she was so hot for the black teen, but knew well enough that Trish was the cause of her whole life turning upside down. If it weren't for Trish, she'd still be the coach, still have her respect, and still would be feeling...empty. That's right. The more Simons allowed herself to fall further and further into a pit of presentation, the more she realizes that she needs it more than anything. For so long she felt she was missing something in her life, some purpose to be a part of, some one to serve. That someone was Trish.

But Trish already had someone for that. Already had a white female sucking her toes, licking her pussy, and serving her with all her being. That somebody was Amber. Pretty little blue eyed, blond haired, sexy Amber. As long as Trish had the hard-bodied teen at her beck and call, how could she ever want the wonton middle aged woman. Instead she found herself fast falling the prey of the young black nymph Sasha during the day and later at night to her gloating rival Miss Struat.

Just as Miss Simon's eyes were beginning to focus back into reality from the fog of her thoughts, an unusual sight caught her attention. Sitting at the far end of one of the distant benches was a small figure, a girl. Simons was a little worried at first, being naked from the waist up in front of anyone outside of her squad wouldn't be advisable. Trish had powerd her to cheer topless. Yet Jessica simply couldnt understand who or why someone would be watching a simple highschool cheerleading practice. Miss Simons eventually went back to bouncing her breasts with the group, but for the rest of practice the girl sat and watched. No emotion, no reactions. Just sitting and watching.

The same thing happened again on Friday. Halfway through the routines, the girl once again appeared on the bleachers, watching intently. Something about the girl seemed oddly familiar to the former cheerleading coach. Something recognizable about the petit spectator with short red hair. But just like Wednesday, the girl was gone when practice was over and Simons had not gotten a good enough look at her.

Back inside the showers, Miss Simons gingerly washed the delicate folds of Sasha's sex and her cute round ass as she knelt before the black girl. Miss Simons could tell the young girl was excited about their session together after school, since the water from the shower was beading down her oily sex. The low moans and head pats were enough of an indication alone for Jessica to press a little harder against the girl, encouraging a sexual favor, but the throat clearing from Trish reminded Miss Simons to do otherwise.

It was definitely quite the sight for any visitor who would have entered the showers. Half a dozen black teens, standing like Goddesses under the warm shower spray, with six equally attractive white teens on their knees before them, washing and cleaning the sweaty bodies like slaves. Actually only five of the pale skinned cheerleaders were teens. The sixth would have been the older, but equally submissive and horny Miss Simons.

After the showers, Simons waited with the rest of the white cheerleaders on the floor for a chance at one of the wet used towels to be thrown her way. By the time she was finally done dressing, and dreading her drive home with Sasha, Trish unexpectedly called the former coach into her office.

Tentatively, Miss Simons opened the door and walked inside. Sitting at what was once her desk was Trish with an odd expression on her face. It was a look of pleasure. Taking a very brief glance down, Simons could see two pale soles sticking out from underneath the desk. The first thing that popped into her mind was Amber.

"I won't keep you long Miss Simons, its just that I wanted to...ohhh...ask if everything has been going ok with you?...aahh..."

"Um, yes, everything has been going fine. Why do you ask?"

"Its just that you seem to have been...uhhh...little bit out of things this week...ahhhh...is there anything you'd like to tell....ooohhhh....me?

Miss Simons knew what Trish was getting at. Even though she tried her best to act normal, her nightly visits to her rival's house must have been having its effects on her in some way. Should she admit to Trish what she has been up to since Monday? What would Trish do or say in response? Instead of taking that chance Miss Simons decided to hide the truth. So with the wet smacking sounds getting louder beneath the table, Jessica faked ignorance. "Sorry if I've appeared unlike myself. There is nothing wrong with me and I promise to improve my performance to your liking..."

"See that you do. Remember that there are always other white girls that would gladly take your place if you should faulter.... aaahhhh.... yes...goooood girl!!!!"

Trish closed her eyes and focused hard on the tongue lapping at her black pussy. Miss Simons looked down again at the two feet poking out from beneath the table. Now that she thought of it, they were a bit smaller than Amber's... Just then none other than Amber stepped through the office door, completely dressed and awaiting Trish to finish. Miss Simons stared opened mouthed from Amber, to Trish and back to the two pale feet. Jessica knew full well that all the other white girls had gone home already, so who the hell was that under the table?

Before Miss Simons could give it another thought, Trish waved her former coach off just as Sasha burst through the door to collect her pet. Taking the older woman by the hand, Sasha dragged a confused Miss Simons out of the office and out through the female locker room door. The last thing Simons could hear were the cries of female orgasm. Who was that girl?

The drive home was quiet. There was not much Miss Simons could say with a hand constantly inside her pants. Did Sasha HAVE to do that will she was driving? The young girl just couldn't stop from giggling herself silly every time a truck would pull along side them and Simons would panic. "Maybe we should show that dirty trucker where my handy is huh?" Simons knew the punk was probably kidding, but there always was a chance she would follow through with her suggestion. None the less, just like Wednesday, the drive to Sasha's house was a very frustrating affair. Thankfully, after gingerly licking her tormentor's black pussy to orgasm, Sasha was only too kind to allow Simons to diddle herself for the young's entertainment. Unfortunately before the horny middle aged woman could cum for her black vixen, Sasha's lady pulled into the drive way honking and waving. Never in her whole life did Simons rush as fast as she did hiking up her pants and wiping the student's juices from her face. By the time Jessica had finished saying her hi's and goodbye's to the naive lady, Simons was sure she had peed in her panties from fear. When Miss Simons arrived on the front porch of one Miss Mary Struat later that Friday night, Simons was in no mood to put up much of a fight, not that the frustrated horny woman wanted to!

---

"Cindy! Get in her this instant!"

"Yes Mistress Zamora? Is there anything wrong?"

"What the hell are these?"

"Those are your panties Mistress, I just had them cleaned for you."

"Then why do they still look soiled? Did you hand wash them like I instructed you to?"

"We'll, no ma'am...I...I...."

"You WHAT?"

"Mistress they were dirty, I just felt better putting them in the wash."

"Gosh you must be dumb. Your just begging for another paddling aren't you?"

"No Mistress Zamora, PLEASE, I'm sorry. Here, let me take them right now and wash them."

"And what about the rest of the house? Are you vacuuming and dusting like you are supposed to?"

"Yes, I'm cleaning all the time."

"Then why is there dust on these shelves? Gosh, you must really want that white ass red don't you?"

"No Ma'am, I'm sorry. I will do better."

"See that you do. I will not tolerate lazy white bitches serving me!"

With that, Lola threw her soiled panties at the face of a flustered Mrs Lowenstien, who very quickly ran out of the room towards the bathroom to permisterally hand wash them.

As was her life now, at least at the home. Outside Cindy Lowenstien still managed to hold on to her image as a confident, respected wife and lady. But in her own home, she was nothing but a sniveling servant to her own maid.

Her pussy twinged as she washed the silk panties. She had so often been the one yelling at Lola to do the same thing, yet now she was the one doing the washing. And they were actually HER silk panties. Lola had taken possession of all her expensive undergarments ever since the day of her confession. She still cringes as she remembers Trish driving her home in her Mercedes, and powering the wealthy women to admit her desires of servitude to her shocked maid.

Never the less, Lola had taken the news quite well, and was only too happy to switch roles with the stupid former Madam of the house. Now Cindy stood in the bathroom with a maid's uniform, washing the soiled silk panties. Just the simple thought that she had asked for this, and wasn't powerd to be a servant kept her puss a buzz as she rid the stains from her former expensive silks.

It wasn't for another hour that Amber walked through the front door. The highly fit and attractive flower to the former Matriarch of the house was immediately greeted by the sight of her lady in a most subservient position. Amber couldn't help but smile at the sight of mommy dearest on her hands and knees in the kitchen, busily scrubbing the tiled floor. Her maid bottoms failing to properly cover her bare ass as she crawled to and fro. Amber new that the freshly shaved cunt nestled between those thighs had been under Lola's orders, or Mistress Zamora as her mommy now called her.

"Hello lady!"

Mrs Lowenstien looked up and smiled from the floor at her flower, who despite all the changes was still the apple of her eye. "Hello Sweetie! How was school today?"

"Oh ok, I think I did real well on the math test."

"Fantastic. I knew my baby was a smart girl. Some day you'll grow up to be somebody, I just know it!"

"You mean somebody like you?" An evil chill ran up Amber's spine at her own words. She knew it was awfully mean to point out her lady's subservience so openly, but the look on her lady's face was simply too priceless. Mrs Lowenstien had always preached success, good breading, and superiority to her budding flower when she was growing up. But her classy lady was having a tough time preaching to her now.

Her lady instantly lowered her head in shame at her flower's words. "Please Amber, this is tough enough for me to handle with out my pride and joy laughing at what I've become."

"Sorry lady, but you make it so easy." With an evil grin of revenge Amber lifted her finger and pointed to a spot on the kitchen floor, "You've missed a spot maid." Amber giggled as she turned away and marched up to her bedroom to change.

A single tear rolled down the new maid's cheek as she began scrubbing the spot Amber had pointed to. She had lost the respect of her own flower now, and to her there was now nothing else left to loose.

"CINDY! I am still waiting for that iced tea!"

"I'm coming Mistress...I'm coming!"

"Not if I can help it slut!"

Those were the self humoring words Amber heard when she stepped back out of her room, the large towel covering the pink bikini she wore beneath it. Trish had complained to her as of late that she was becoming too pale for her liking, and needed to golden up that white skin a little. She reached the bottom of the stairs just in time to see her lady scurrying out the back door with a tray holding one freshly made iced tea.

In another moment the white teen followed her lady out the same door, out to the large crystal blue pool in the back. It was a gorgeous day and perfect for a nice tanning.

Perhaps that is why Lola was sitting by the pool as well, sipping her new glass of tea with the miniature umbrella, holding the cup in one hand, and casually playing with her white maid's sex with the other. Amber stood by the door and watched for a moment at the spectacle of her lady trying to hold the serving tray with both hands, her face strained, and a black arm disappearing up her short frilly black skirt.

Lola continued doing this undisturbed for almost a minute before noticing the towel clad teen by the door and beckoning her to join them by the pool. The former maid was all decked out in one of her lady's revealing bikinis as she lay comfortably on the plastic furniture, waving to a similar one right beside her. Amber walked the short distance and removed the towel to reveal her stunning body. A sight not gone unnoticed by the former house servant.

"You flower has quite the body Cindy. You must be very proud?"

Amber could hear her lady's strained voice as she took her place lying down. "Thhhankyou Mistress, yyyes I am!"

"I'm sure her black owner is very happy to possess her. She is quite a find. Just like your Mistress is very happy to possess my white bitch as well."

"Ohh...thank you Mistress...."

Amber could her the squishing sounds of fingers moving up a wet hole.

"Tell me Amber, what do you make of your lady here?" Amber looked at Lola with a little confusion. "I mean did you ever see this coming? Did you ever expect this stuck up bitch would one day show up at my tiny room and BEG to make up for her prior sins. That she'd actually want me to take over as the rightful head of this house? I suppose you did expect this, seeing how you helped plan your lady's down fall with your Mistress Trish."

Another one of those evil chills ran up Amber's spine at those words as Mrs Lowenstien let out another low moan. Amber never wanted to bring down her own lady. She always looked up to her and dreamed of becoming as socially elite and elegant as she was. The day Trish suggested the idea of tricking her lady, Amber tried her best to persuade her black Mistress not to follow trough with it. But Trish settled the debate with Amber sucking her dark toes while revealing her plot.

When Amber called her lady to come pick her up on that fateful day, she wanted nothing more than to scream out and warn her lady. But she couldn't betray her Mistress. Trish had become her life, her reamister for breathing. Even more so than her own lady. Never the less she still held out hope that her lady would resist. That her upbringing and feeling of superiority to black women would keep in check the natural feelings of interracial submissiveness all white women had.

But it wasn't meant to be. That day Amber watched her role model capitulate to her instincts and become the sniveling servant she is today, getting her pussy played with right next to her flower.

"How does it feel Cindy, to know that it was your own flower who brought you down? That because of her your standing in that silly little outfit, serving me iced tea on tap, getting fingered with your very own wedding ring?"

Amber's eyes went wide and watched Lola's hand emerge from under her lady's skirt. Right there on Lola's VERY wet middle finger was her mommy's giant diamond wedding ring. Until this moment Amber had NEVER seen that ring off her lady's fingers. It was Mrs Lowenstien's most valued possession. She loved showing it off to every body at parties and social engagements. She thoroughly enjoyed making all the other wives jealous as hell with it. She loved it almost as much as she loved her dear sweet flower.

Lola lifted her finger's to her maid's face and smiled as Mrs Lowenstien licked and sucked them clean, paying special close attention to the ring on her former maid's finger. In between licks, Mrs Lowenstien submissively spoke to her Mistress. "Please put them back! I need them inside me! Please Mistress! "

Mistress Zamora smiled even wider. "Such a horny white slut. First go fetch me another tea and then I'll think about it!" With a slap to the butt, Cindy scurried off into the house, desperate to make her Mistress happy enough to let her cum.

Still smiling, Lola turned to the surprised flower. "Amazing isn't it? That you white creatures can be so eager to serve us?" Amber nodded slightly before resting her head on the plastic and closing her eyes to warm to the sun. "I mean I always suspected there was something up with your lady. The way she'd look at me when I gave her an attitude, the way she'd touch herself after giving me an order. Oh she thought I didn't see that, but I did. Now it all makes sense, but at the time I was just plain confused. I mean all these years my people suffered from slavery, to the civil rights era, to now. To think all this time you white girls had feelings of inferiority to black women. That is why you strived so hard all these generations to make your white husband's keep us beneath your foot. You knew the truth. That given the opportunity you'd be begging to serve at our feet! Isn't that right?"

Amber didn't respond, faking that she had fallen into a light relax. But in all honesty she really was sure about all of that slave era crap. Maybe white women did keep black females as slaves for that reamister, to hide the truth. All she knew was that right here, right now she wanted more than anything to serve her Mistress Trish, and that's all she really cared about.

"Here you go Mistress!" Out came the frantic lady, eager to get her former maid's black fingers under her skirt once more. Amber could hear her lady whine as Lola took a sip of the tea while ignoring her need.

"Cindy, I think I need another oiling before I burn. Be a good pet and put it on me."

Amber heard the sigh of frustration on her lady's breath as Cindy picked up the sun tanning lotion. The young teen couldn't help but open her eyes again and look over to see this latest humiliating task her lady was performing. Just in time she saw Lola gingerly removed her top exposing the hard dark nipples resting on her attractive black breasts. Back when Lola was a domestic, Amber never did a pay much attention to her maid's physical attributes. Now as her lady's Mistress, Lola was a very attractive woman after all.

Mrs Lowenstien got to her knees, squirted lotion onto her hands, and began rubbing it into the black woman's skin. First she started at the stomach before slowly moving up to her breasts. Amber could see the look of satisfaction on Lola's face as she had her breasts manipulated by her former submissive boss. The once smooth dry dark skin was now becoming slick and shiny.

Finished with her shoulders, Mrs Lowenstien squirted more lotion out of the bottle and began rubbing it into her Mistress's legs and thighs. Amber had seen this part before, knowing full well that it usually ended with her lady's mouth over the Mistress's sex.

But this time was different. As Cindy prepared herself to go down on her Mistress, Lola surprisingly stopped her. "Cindy, how rude of you. Not offering your own flower a rub down! What kind of a lady are you? Do you want her to burn?"

Amber's eyes went wide as the hard bodied teen new the black woman was up to something. Apparently her lady suspected it as well, hovering just a few inches above her Mistress's thighs as she looked over at her flower with great worry.

Slowly she began crawling on her knees towards her flower, hoping that her Mistress wouldn't make her do something she didn't want to.

"Start with her shoulders and work your way down."

"Yes Mistress Zamora" was all Cindy could croak as she squirted lotion onto her hands.

"Come on Amber, don't be bashful. We're all girls here! Take your top off and let those tits breath!"

Amber looked into her lady's eyes and could see the fear. She was actually afraid of her flower. For the first time in her young life, Amber actually felt some sort of power over her strict parent. So with Cindy lightly shaking her head no, Amber removed her top for her lady's oily hands.

In a daze, Cindy began rubbing her flower's shoulders, making the white skin shiny and slick as well. In another brief moment, her hands lowered reluctantly until they covered the pale mounds on her flower's chest. The pink nipples hard under her palms as she rubbed the oil into them. Flashes began running through Cindy's mind. Flashes of her young flower as a young in her arms, singing her nursery rhymes and rocking her to relax.

The flashes vanished the moment she felt the black hand touch her sex from behind. As Cindy rubbed and squeezed her flower's pert breasts, a low moan gurgled out of her as Lola glanced her clit with the wedding ring. Soon Cindy wasn't even aware that she had moved her rubbing hands down past her flowers taught stomach, past her round hips, and to her gorgeous athletic thighs. The skin so firm and muscular from cheering as the lady messaged and rubbed the lotion into them. A sense of pride filled Cindy's heart at how cheerleading was making her dear angle's body oh so attractive to the many wealthy men that would come into her life. Her pussy spasmed a moment later when the image of Trish popped into her mind. Amber had already surrendered that perfect white body to her.

Closing her eyes, Cindy focused hard on the fingers digging into her pussy. Feeling the ring she had once so worshipped now on her black maid's finger. She didn't even notice her flower's spreading legs, inviting the dazed lady to rub her inner thighs with the slippery oil. Mrs Lowenstien eye's opened when she felt her flower's hand on the back of her head. The sight that greeted her was of the puffy pussy lips of her flower, outlined perfectly by the thin bikini bottoms.

The fingers at her sex were moving faster now, and it was making it all the harder to understand why her flower's hand was now pushing her head down to her white thighs. Her mind fogged over as it came to rest on its side, her nose pressed against Amber's waiting sex. Oh was she so close, just a few more well placed flicks of the ring.

Cindy's eyes cleared momentarily from the fog as she inhaled her flower's potent musk. Her eyes clearing momentarily to focus on the pussy just in front of her. Panic filled the lady as she darted her eyes past the pubic mound, past the two large white breasts, and at the smirking teen that was once her loving flower.

"Lick away lady, lick away. Teach me how to be the proper woman you've always claimed to be."

The fog quickly covered her mind back up again as her tongue slipped past her lips and touched the thin fabric. She had no idea at just how wet her flower was when she tasted the bikini.

Amber moaned loudly at the attention and instantly brought her right hand to one of her nipples while lowering the left hand to her sex. In amazement, Cindy watched as her flower pulled the thin bikini to the side, completely exposing her shaved pussy to her lady. Cindy knew full well what she was expected to do, having had plenty of experience eating her black Mistress. But just as she stuck her tongue back out of her mouth, a sharp pain racked through the older woman's body before she had the chance to touch her prize. Mistress Zamondo had jabbed her clit with the wedding ring, causing the pre-orgasmic lady to loose control of her body and shudder, falling back to the floor and convulsing in a pussy gushing frenzy that very quickly covered the surrounding tiles with fluid.

Amber remained motionless, pussy still exposed and nipple in mid- pinch as she stared open mouthed at her lady's display. She quickly looked angrily at Lola for an explanation and she got one.

"You know what Trish said. No one can touch that pussy with out her permission. As her reward for making your lady my bitch, I promised I would protect it when you were here. And that includes keeping it from your horny ********* mommy slut!"

The young frustrated teen looked down again at the delirious woman jerking her hips into the air, then stood up, grabbed her top and stormed back into the house horny as hell.

Lola smiled at the drama she had so casually caused between lady and flower. She looks down at the puddle between her white pets thighs and chuckles to herself. This was just too easy.

After being made to lick up her mess on the floor, Cindy dutifully crawls between her Mistress's legs and performs her owners most demanding of tasks with out another care in the world.

Upstairs Amber stood naked before her large mirror, staring at the image of teenage perfection glaring back at her. Her flushed cunt lips and long hard nipples filled with the red of excitement. She was horny and angry. She was horny because she wanted to be, but she was angry because she couldn't do a dame thing about it. Trish had forbidden her to ever touch herself when not in her presence.

Again Amber's eyes focused on the fabulous body before her. This once belonged to her. Those strong lean thighs, round soft breasts, and tight firm butt where once hers to flaunt and tease for her entertainment. Making boys drool over her filled her with the type of feminine pride only the most popular of high school girls could enjoy. She was queen of the world. And she had given it all away to a black girl.

Any boy would give his left nut to pleasure the pink clit now begging for her finger's attention. Amber spread her thighs and looked deeper into the mirror at her sex. What was it about this organ that caused her so much pleasure and grief? Why was it that Trish, who had once been her sworn enemy and competitor for cheerleading captain, was so easily able to bring her under her thumb just by touching it?

Until that day in the showers, Amber had never backed down from any one. Every bitch that had stood in her way suffered the price of her wrath, just like her lady had taught her of course. Before the moment Trish had cornered her, she was sure she was winning the battle. Putting Trish in her place and maintaining her rightful position as head cheerleader seemed all assured. All the other white girls looked up to her and she knew she couldn't let them down. Seeing their leader capitulate to the black girl would doom them all, and she couldn't allow that to happen.

Amber's vagina spasmed and juice trickled down her thigh as she remembered how she betrayed them. How a simple touch between her legs sent the pompous white queen spiraling down to a mere submissive slave. All the other girls were looking as it happened. Black and white. All of them looked as Trish backed Amber into a corner, hot water beating down on both of them. All watching the scared look forming on Amber's usually confident face as Trish's hand cupped the pristine pubic mound of her rival. Of how Amber didn't move a finger to stop her. Of the sight of Trish's hand moving, rubbing, and feeling. Of Amber's moans. Of Trish's words. Commands of how things were going to be from now on. Who was going to be the new queen bee. Who was going to be Trish's little white pet. Who was the leader of the pack!

All the girls had watched in shock and awe as Amber nodded her head submissively in agreement. Her mouth open wide and air rapidly flowing in and out in rhythm with the hand rubbing at her cunt. The overwhelming erg over taking her body to simply accept what Trish was saying. The feeling of letting go, of loosing power. Please take it away.

Back inside her room, another trickle spilled out of Amber's cunt. Gosh had things changed so rapidly after that. How all the other white girls soon followed suit, falling to their knees before each fingering, snickering, dominating black girl that took them. Following Amber's lead as she allowed Trish to use all her towels, sitting on the floor passively for a used one. The absolute worst moment had to have been when Trish made all the white girl go panty less on the field. The feeling of the cool air on their bare cunts. The feeling on hundreds of lustful eyes feasting on their exposed sex. Or perhaps the worst was when Trish first dragged her to the fences during a game. The complete fear coursing through her body as Trish raised her top from behind, offering her tender firm white breasts to the buffet of male hands grabbing at her.

Lost in her past, a finger managed to travel down to her sex and touch her clit, instantly causing Amber to fall to the floor. She was desperate to prevent herself from coming since Trish would see it in her eyes later. After several minutes of hard concentration Amber stood back up, happy with herself that she had not betrayed her Mistress. Walking over to the window, she looked down and saw her lady and Lola still by the pool. Not surprisingly, Lola's bikini bottoms were off and put over Cindy's head as her lady lapped away at the black cunt. Yes indeed she had grown up to be just like her lady. Once Queens of their domain, now servants to their subjects.

Amber's mind once again went back to the first time at the fences. The feeling of all those scruff hands squeezing and tugging on her chest. The outraged expression on her former coach's face still haunting her to this day. Miss Simons' jaw dropping as she watched the spectacle for the first time.

On that fateful day, Amber didn't know why she was doing everything Trish was telling her to do. She didn't know anything about natural dominance or the like. All she knew was that every time Trish gave her an order, her knees would go weak, her mouth would go dry, and her pussy would flood.

Yet at the time she so desperately wished it could all end. That somehow the humiliating role reversal would stop and she could resume her superior white cheerleading ways. That is why she still held out hope that Miss Simons would rush right over and end all the titty displaying. That she would grab Trish by the neck and yell some sense into her. Remind her who is the REAL head cheerleader in the squad, AMBER!

And she thought it had actually happened. That Miss Simons had finally seen enough when her former coach had come storming over to the fences. Her yells and screams sending the exhibitionist cheerleaders brownietering back to the fields for more innocent cheers. At that moment in time Amber was certain the coach would put Trish and the rest of the black teens back in their place. So afterward, when she ordered all the white girls home and powering the black girls to stay behind Amber was sure things would all get back to normal.

But that very next day Amber watched in complete shock and disgust with the rest of her white cheerleaders, as Miss Simons professed her desires to become a cheerleader. While dancing on the balls of her feet, the coach of the squad begged one of her girls to switch roles with her. Trish, being the opportunist that she was, happily accepted the new position as coach of the squad. The final nail in the coffin was watching Katty take off her own uniform and hand it to Miss Simons. Poor poor Katty, only a freshman, being replaced on the squad by a middle aged woman. Amber can still remember seeing that panty covered butt running back into the locker room crying tears. Who would have thought that she'd be back several months later, lapping away at Trish's cunt beneath the desk? Oh if only Miss Simons would have known it was Katty under there, and why the vengeful freshman was servicing the black teen coach. It was a payment. A payment for letting Katty give a little payback to the woman who had stolen her spot on the squad. A very painful payback soon to come.

Amber looked over to the clock and a slight panic filled her. It was getting late and she was supposed to be spending the weekend at Trish's house. Quickly she dried her leaking pussy and got dressed. In a brief moment, she was down stairs and popping her head out the back door.

"Lola, I need my lady to drive me to Trish's house. If you don't mind, can I borrow her for a little bit?"

Lola's eyes were closed and mouth open in ecstasy as she held her knees to her chest. Her big black ass pointed right in the face of her lady, whose tongue was buried deep inside it. Mrs Lowenstien's face was covered in pussy juice and she appeared to really be at it, rimming her former maid with great enthusiasm as she played with her own gushing pussy between her legs. Cindy's eyes opened momentarily as she heard her flower's voice, knowing how awfully degraded she looked. But like she had all the other times, she darted her tongue faster and farther up the black booty she was now worshipping.

Amber knew well enough not to ask again and waited patiently for her lady to finish bringing off her maid. She waited for almost ten minutes before Cindy's numb tongue brought Mistress Zamonda to a squirting orgasm, all over her ladys open mouthed face.

"Lola, my lady. I need her to drive me to Trish's house. Please let her!"

Lola was by now playing absent mindedly with her pets hair as Mrs Lowenstien drank the rest of the juices from her Mistress's mound. She dreamily looked over to her slave's flower, seeing the eager express on her face.

"Very well, you may barrow my pet for a little while. But don't waist any time. We're having company over tonight and we wouldn't want to be without our main attraction!"

Mrs Lowenstien, who was still fingering herself, darted her fingers faster when she was reminded about the party tonight. All those strangers in her home, humiliating her.

"Cindy, stop playing with yourself and get your bitch flower to her Owner's house! Cindy looked up, still licking the tender skin clean, "Mistress, may I please take the Mercedes?"

"No, I don't think so. Its mine now. Just drive her in your new car!"

"Yes Mistress!" Spoke the submissive lady as she rose off her red soar knees, curtsied like a fool, and went into the house to get the keys to the broken down 1986 domestic automobile that once belong to her low income maid. Amber followed behind her, shaking her head in amusement.

It was true she got a kick out of seeing her lady in such a pitiful role, but things could always be worse. At least she wasn't like Miss Simons, cheerleading for all those laughing eyes. Amber's fleeting thoughts as she got into her lady's new car, were of a girl in another part of town. There little Katty was patiently biding her time for the day she'd get to make Miss Simons scream.

"What do you want to become?"

"Please my Black Queen..."

Miss Simons looked up with complete lust and passion in her eyes. She was kneeling on the floor, naked, darkness all around her. As her heavy breasts rose and fell she stared upwards toward the young girl before her, an arrogant yet dignified Goddess. Standing all around them were dozens of faceless women, watching, whispering. Simons knew she shouldn't be here. Knew she should be far far away. But her heart knew she was exactly where she needed to be.

"Yes my slave?"

"Please...my Black Queen...make me your white toy."

The Black Goddess nodded her head and fashioned a shiny silvery pair of scissors. Miss Simons bowed her head, her long hair flowing beneath her face. A moment later she heard a snip, a lock of hair falling to her cupped hands below.

(Knock)(Knock)

Simons paused, waiting for the next few locks to fall, but none do. She holds herself there, looking down until she hears the sound again.

(Knock)(Knock)(Knock)

Now this time she looked up into the face that she so loved and watched as it slowly dissolved away, replaced by what looks like a steering wheel.

"Miss Simons, its me, Sasha's lady!"

Quickly she swirled to her left to see the black woman standing on the other side of her car window, smiling pleasantly. It is only then that Simons realized the three fingers lodged inside her pussy and the strong smell of female musk thick in the air. Thank goodness she was wearing the thick protective coat that gracefully hid the dirty self perversion from view, otherwise she'd have some real explaining to do for the lady of her young cheerleader Mistress Sasha.

None the less she was still very worried, as she rolled down the window, that the heavy feminine air would rush out and hit the naive black lady in the face. Yet if she did smell anything, Sasha's lady gave no indication.

"Hello Miss Simons, its bee quite some time since I've seen you. How's the squad coming along this year?"

Jessica took a moment to mentally compose herself, still in her submissive fog of the wet dream. "The squad? Um their...doing just swell!" She tried her best to give a sincere smile. In truth they actually were doing very well this year. She almost hated to admit it, but ever since Trish had put the former coach in her place and took over the job the squad had never been better. Much to the worry of the older woman, this caused many more students and parents to come to the school sporting events. They were up for several big time awards and were in the running for the infamous Disneyland Cheerleaders Competition. Simons almost peed in her pants as she imagined her squad prancing down Main Street, the black girls doing everything they can to flash the timid white cheerleader's private parts to the crowds of shocked mommies, daddies and youngren holding balloons. And then there was the County Cheerleading Title that Simons privately cherished. Thanks to Trish they had a good chance of winning it again this year, much to the anger of her bitter rival Miss Mary Struat.

"Oh well I am so glad to hear it. My little girl has been telling me so much about the squad. She can't stop talking about how much she loves it, thank you so much for helping her along with these private lesmisters you've been giving her lately. I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart!"

Jessica looked at her for any hint of sarcasm or hidden meaning, but there was none. She genuinely seemed sincere, much to the coach's surprise. Did she really not know what these private lesmisters really were?

It was at that moment that Sasha suddenly came sprinting out of the house, dressed in her brightly colored cheerleading uniform which contrasted wickedly with her soft black skin. Despite herself, Simons could feel her pussy walls contracting slightly around the three fingers still lodged in her cunt. She had been afraid to remove them, since it would reveal where they had been.

"Oh there she is, you must be going then. Hope things go well and thank you again for helping my flower. Good bye honey!"

"Bye mom! Don't worry, Miss Simons and I will have such a fun time, isn't that right coach?"

Simons hung her head down, unable to look either women in the eye, muttering 'yes' in a low voice.

When Sasha was finally in the car and her lady was already walking back towards the house she reached inside Simon's coat, and grabbed a claw full of her former coach's uniform covered left breast, burying her finger nails into the soft fatty skin. Simon's threw her head back in pain.

"YES WHAT SLUT?"

"YES MISTRESS...YES MISTRESS...I'm sorry please....but your lady...."

Sasha squeezed even harder, "I don't give a fuck, when ever I ask you a question you answer me properly got it fuck up?"

"Yes Mistress, I'm sorry Mistress...."

Sahsa released her tormented coach's breast but as she brought her hand out of the coat, she grabbed the material so that it flung open, revealing the skimpy ridicules cheering uniform hiding beneath. Even more ridicules was the hand that was under the skirt as it was slowly moving up and down, three shiny slick fingers appearing and disappearing.

"I KNEW IT! HOW DARE YOU PLAY WITH YOURSELF WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!" With that Sasha reached down and pulled the illicit fingers out and ceremoniously began spanking her hapless coach square between her legs, sending Miss Simons wailing with each and every uncaring smack of her puffed pussy. Despite the irresistible urge to protect her most sensitive body part from receiving its pain, she knew better than to interfere with her evil little black owner. The ten quick punishment swats felt like they took an eternity, and had her on the verge of tears. What had ever become of this once proud cheerleading coach, once the winner of numerous titles, who was now reduced to getting her pussy spanked by one of her own demented cheerleaders, and a black one at that!

"Now coachy, thank me and ask me the question!"

Simons took a moment, lifted her face from her hands and meekly spoke, "Tttthank you Mistress, now may I please....lick your...pretty pussy?"

Sasha smirked at the power she held over this white adult. It had been months since Trish granted her exclusive ownership of the former coach. All the other black girls wanted one of the young white cheerleaders as permisteral pussy pets but not her. She got the biggest charge of her life the day she powerd Simons to her knees in the gym showers and made her smell her sweet black pussy. Ever since she knew she'd have Simons all to herself, and that's the thought she relished as she looked upon her disheveled slave, her red puffed pussy open for display, her uniform covered tits rising up and down with heavy breathing, her red flushed submissive face and the most erotic words uttering from it, "May I please like your pretty pussy?" Sasha's vagina pulsed with racial power and girly satisfaction.

"Not now coachy, we dont have time for that. We need to get to the party. But we're gonna make a little stop first aren't we? I'm hungry."

Without a word Simons closed her legs, pushed back her uniform skirt and recovered herself with the coat. Fixing her hair in the mirror, she soon had the car pulling out the driveway and off towards the main streets. Very little was said between the two of them as they drove closer and closer to the fast food restaurant except for the occasional "Turn here", "turn left", "no you stupid dyke', etc.

It wasn't long before the were pulling into the drive-thru, waiting in line behind several cars. It was then that Sasha began digging into Miss Simon's purse, easily finding her wallet and pulled out a $10 bill. "Here, put this between your legs!" Simons looked befuddled at her young tormentress. "I said put it up your COOCH! NOW!"

Without further thought Simons took the bill offered to her and in a moment was sliding it under her coat, passed her pantyless skirt, and with chills slid the dirty currency between her ever moist lips. She began rearranging herself uncomfortably on the seat while closing back her coat.

"NO! Leave it open! I want the guy to see EXACTLY where his money is coming from" Simons eyebrows rose with panic. She silently shook her head with pleading eyes, but knew it was useless. She shuddered as she went over the impending scene in her mind.

Now there was only one car ahead of them at the little menu speaker. "Heres what you will order. I want a large coke, french fries, pussy chicken fingers, and a strawberry shake!"

Simons again looked befuddled, "You mean chicken fingers?"

"Did I stutter? PUSSY chicken fingers! Say it just like that. Understand?"

"Yes Mistress!"

With dread the former coach watched the last car ahead of her pull forward and ever so slowly she moved the car to the speaker while rolling down the window.

"Welcome! Would you like to try any of our combos today?", chimed a rather perky girl on the other end. It didn't even occur to her that it would be a girl instead of a guy. It almost made it feel worse knowing this. At least the guy would be given a treat when all this was said and done, but with a naive girl...

"Um yes...hello...no combos no, just please give me a....um....large coke, and french fries, and...um...", she turned briefly to look at Sasha, bit her lower lip, and turned back to the speaker, saying the next few words very fast, "and pussy chicken fingers and a strawberry shake please!". Immediately Jessica held her breath for what seemed like an eternity.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't catch that, can you repeat the last part of your order?"

Sweat was now collecting on her forehead. Despite all she had reluctantly been through, she was still a good woman, with morals and dignity. Or at least she still could fool herself that she had these qualities. Now that fantasy was being plucked away even further as she spoke again, "Ok, it was a large coke, and french fries, and....pussy chicken fingers and a strawberry shake thank you!"

There was another long pause on the other end. Simons could imagine the young girl's reaction and cringed.

"Did you say chicken fingers and a strawberry shake? I'm having problems understanding you?"

"Yes yes, exactly" Simons chimed, feeling like she had gotten away with one as she looked back at an un-amused Mistress.

"Your total is $8.47, please drive to the first window."

Slowly Simons pulled the car ahead and within moments she was staring face to face with the young white girl she had just spoken to. Immediately the girl's brilliant smile mellowed as she saw the middle aged woman before her dressed in the most inappropriately small school cheerleading uniform. Then she glanced at Sasha sitting right next to her and smiled again, "Are you...girls...cheerleaders for Dale Field High?" Simons nodded wearily, "Oh that's SO COOL! You girls are like the best! I go to Dale Field to and SO badly want to try out next year for the squad!"

Immediately Sasha leaned over and whispered something into her pet's ear, which made Simons lower her head and utter "Sorry, but you can't join the squad!"

"Well why not, you haven't even seen me try?"

Simons now looked up to her with regretful eyes, "Because your....too ugly!"

The former coach saw the horrible look of hurt in the young white girl's eyes as Sasha giggled evilly beside her. With a tear forming in her eye, she looked back at the register, "Um...$6.47 ma'am."

Simons looked back at her black Mistress hopeful that she would be spared this latest offense, but with a sigh, reached under her skirt and began fishing clumsily through her vagina for the bill. In a few moments there was an audible gasp from the young girl as Simons brought the $10 out from under her skirt and handed it to the shocked cashier without daring to even look at her. The bill was damp and shiny and there was no doubt where it had just come from. Maybe it was because the girl was still so young and naive, or simply because she still had aspirations of joining the team, but without a word of further protest accepted the bill and returned the due change.

"Please drive forward to the next window MA'AM." Simons could sense the level of disgust in the young girls voice as she uttered those words. Quickly she pulled the car forward eager to remove herself from the humiliating situation. Behind the second window was a man in his twenties who was busy putting all the ordered food into a bag. He too noticed the comical appearance of Miss Simons's dress attire with a raised eye brow as he handed the package through the window. Sasha quickly took hold of the bag and placed it on the seat floor as the man asked "Do you girls want any ketchup or sauces?"

An evil look came across Sasha's face as she turned to the man and giggled loudly, "Oh no thanks, we have all the special sauce we need right here!" And with that, she took hold of the front of Simon's cheerleading skirt and lifted it up and back. In an instant Simons face was flushed a dark red as the young man gasped. Jessica wasted no time hitting the gas peddle to again immediately remove herself from this latest pit of offense. Yet she knew that with Sasha, the next humiliating moment was never far away.

As instructed she found a place to park not too far away from the fast food restaurant. Sasha was already gulping down some of her coke while exploring the bag of fast food. She soon pulled out the strawberry frosty and handed it to her former coach, who looked puzzled as usual.

"Lower your top!"

Simons hesitated only long enough to make sure no one was watching and pulled her already skimpy cheering uniform top down and under her breasts, so that they actually lifted slightly. Sasha loved the look of Simons large breasts displayed in this fashion. So as Jessica sat there with her breasts exposed and a strawberry shake in one hand she waiting for her Mistress's next instruction. It came immediately after she was handed the plastic straw, "Take this and dab some shake on each of your nipples for me!"

Simons checked outside the car again before giving a sigh of reluctance, dipping the straw into the ice cold shake. Lifting it back out, she brought its contents over her right nipple and, as Sasha began munching on her french fries, began dabbing it over her nipple. Instantly it became painfully erect as the cold strawberry jolted her senses. "Now the next one!"

Simons re-dipped her straw and brought it towards her left breast this time, hanging it over the nipple a moment before dabbing the icy shake over it, coating it just like its twin with a shiny pink. Both nipples stung something awful as she placed the straw back inside the shake and dutifully awaited for her Mistress. Sasha was by now halfway through eating one of her chicken fingers, enjoying her permisteral entertainment as she stared in mild amusement at the large fleshy orbs with pink tips.

"Are you hungry Miss Simons?"

Indeed she was hungry. Its amazing how much you forget about little things like an appetite when you are in a constant state of humiliating arousal at the hands of teenage black girl. With trepidation she nodded her head yes.

"Well then, here you go!", said Sasha as she handed her surprised coach a french fry. She hesitated for a moment before bringing it to her lips.

"No no no silly coachy! You forgot about the sauce!"

Simons looked at her haplessly before Sasha pointed with a smirk at a spot between the coach's legs. Jessica looked down and saw her leaking pussy staring right back at her. She looked yet again wishfully at her Mistress, whispering "please" under her breath but Sasha simply continued eating her chicken finger while staring intently at the older woman.

Bringing the warm french fry down between her spreading legs, Simons spread both labias with one hand and with a chill running down her spine slide the thin fried food inside her "Wiggle it a little!" giggled Sasha as Simons did as was ordered. In another moment she slide it back out and looked at her 'special' sauce now coating it. "Bon Appetite!", chimed her tormentress as Simons brought it to her lips. The smell of her own sex filled her nostrils as it got closer and it made her stomach churn. Slowly she parted her lips and laid the desecrated food over her tongue. The taste was revolting to her. No matter how many pussy's a girl learns to love eating, one's own pussy never tastes good, and her gagging reflexes were now begging to be realized.

"Here, have another!"

Simons reluctantly took the french fry and again brought it between her heated thighs. In another moment she was snaking it back out of her moist hole and bringing it to her lips, much faster this time, but just as revolted. This went on for another five minutes as Sasha sat back in her chair, eating her chicken fingers and sipping coke, all the while watching Simons dip french fries one at a time into her own pussy and eating it, dried strawberry shake caking her still erect nipples.

"Would you like some chicken fingers Miss Simons?" Learning her lesmister she quickly shook her head 'no' but to no good as Sasha broke off a chunk and handed it to her, "Its a bit cold and needs to be cooked again. Go ahead and leave it in you a bit to warm up!"

Simons dutifully spread her cunt lips and pushed the fried chicken piece inside her, deep enough so that it would stay but not too far so she could easily get it back out.

"Good, now while you wait for it, why don't you give those big titties a nice coat of shake! Yes that's right coachy, I want you to lift up that cup and tip it over each saggy udder. I don't care how cold it is you stupid cow and don't you DARE get it onto anything other than your big tits or ELSE!"

With the utmost care Simons began pouring the pink strawberry shake over her right breast. Instantly the icy cold jolted her. With the other hand she cupped the slow moving liquid from spilling anywhere else. In another moment she was carefully, if not humorously rubbing it all over her tit, getting every square inch of flesh in the sticky milky shake. Soon after the left breast joined in on the action, getting a healthy helping of shake over it. In no time it looked as if someone had placed two partially deflated pink balloons over her chest. Sasha the whole time was beside herself with laughter seeing the older woman struggle to keep all the liquid on her chest while painting them in icy pink strawberry shake.

Now Simons had frosty all over her hands and asked timidly for a napkin. "Clean them on your pussy. Better yet, play with yourself for awhile until I finish eating."

Simons lowered both hands and began gliding her fingers over her labia lips, coating them with pink shake as she did. Encircling her clit she soon laid her head back and closed her eyes as Sasha looked on.

She could feel the piece of chicken loosing its shape as her cunt muscles squeezed and shook with every manipulation. Just as she was beginning to get into it, Sasha made her stop and remove the chicken. It was a rather pathetic affair, for it had degraded into pieces and was not remotely sexy in any fashion, even for the offense factor Sahsa was so hoping to achieve. This perhaps made the act she was doing all the more depressing.

After all the noticeable pieces were removed from her cunt and redeposited in her mouth, Sasha commanded Simons to recover herself with the cheerleading uniform. By now the pink frosty shake on her chest and pus had dried into a sticky cake-like substance and though annoying in its own right, meant that it would not stain the uniform. Despite her bizarre life change, Simons was actually quite proud of this uniform.

Soon they were pulling out of the restaurant parking lot and finally on their way to Trish's house for the dream party. When they arrived, Simons found a car already waiting at the front of the house. The car was rather beat up and a few years old. As they got closer, she could make out a woman sitting behind the wheel, a blank, lost expression on her face. Simons realized who it was. This woman had been a big supporter of Miss Simons when she was still the coach. The reamister was quite simple. At the time her flower had been the captain of the squad, but now...

Jessica parked along side the other car and as Sasha sprinted towards the front door, the former coach approached the spacey woman.

"Um....Hello Mrs Lowenstien, everything alright with you?"

Cindy Lowenstien looked up with the same far away stare and said nothing. Simons could tell this woman had just recently undergone a big experience in her life.

"Are you ok? Do you need any help?"

Slowly Cindy nodded.

"OK, um...for what? What do you need?"

"Please....save me!"

"From what?"

"my...my...self!"

"I don't understand? Save you from yourself Mrs Lowenstien?"

"I...I cant stop it! Stop her! Every time all I can do is....PLEASE HELP ME!", said Cindy, suddenly waking up from her trance and looking panicked, "

"What? Who? What's the problem?"

Suddenly Cindy looked down and saw the what was hidden behind Miss Simon's coat, which had parted in the light wind. Her eyes scanned over the tiny uniform top which stretched tenuously over pink colored tits. Below was an athletic but non-youthful stomach, and lower even still was the tiniest cheerleading skirt ever worn by a middle aged woman.

As Jessica's face turned the same color as her tits, Cindy turned her head away, back towards the front of the car and sighed. "I'm sorry. You cant help me after all."

Miss Simons knew immediately what had happened to the wife and lady before her. "You've...fallen to...haven't you?" Cindy nodded. "Who is she?"

"She is my maid...WAS my maid. I belong to her now. I don't know why I can't say no to her, or why I feel the way I do. Ever since Trish made me admit my weakness all I can do is crawl at my maid's command."

Mrs Lowenstien looked with pity at the once in control wealthy woman as she sat in the worn out old car.

"That little black girl you came with...is she your Mistress to?" Simons nodded. "A bit young isn't she?" Again Simons shamefully nodded while Cindy looked back down at the coat. "Open it up for me. Let me see."

Miss Simons remained still for only a moment before drawing back the heavy coat, allowing Cindy's eyes to roam free.

"You're not their coach any more are you?"

Jessica nodded no. Without another words Mrs Lowentstien reached out the car window and lifted the front of the micro cheering skirt and stared at the sticky pink frosty pussy behind it. Simons stood perfectly still as Cindy moved her hand past the skirt and slide a curved index finger along the former coach's wet sex. "Just like mine I see. I don't know why I'm always so aroused. I cant stop leaking at all times. Every moment I realize what's happened to me I get so dame....

"Horny", whispered Jessica.

"I guess we're just bitches now aren't we Miss Simons?"

Jessica simply nodded as she stood there in the open drive way holding her protective coat open, the whole time Cindy continuing to absent mindedly slide her index finger up and down Miss Simon's warm moist lips.

Mrs Lowenstien soon pulled her hand away, wiping the liquid from her finger on Simon's skirt before turning her attention back towards Trish's house.

"Miss Simons, do me a favor. Please tell Trish's lady that I need to go back home to my maid....I mean my Mistress....and to please come out soon!"

Simons agreed, covering herself back up, and made her way towards the front door. Ringing the bell, a woman appeared on the other side, the site of which had Simons jaws drop. Miss Simons wasn't surprised at who it was that answered but rather at her appearance. Jennifer stood there before her, dressed only in a french maid apron and black high heels and sporting a set of red pained tits. Simons could just make out the hand patterns and couldn't help but stare at them as Jessica greeted her unpleasantly at the door.

"oh...its you. The rest of them are upstairs. I suppose I'll take your coat..." It was at that moment Simons could hear an angry woman's voice booming from somewhere inside the house. A fearful shutter went through the woman an instant later as she instinctually exhaled and delicately brought her arms to cover her chest.

"I...broke a plate..." Jessica nodded with the smallest of smirks as Jennifer dashed deeper into the house calling out "Coming my Mistress!", her white naked behind jiggling all the way. The two women had been at odds since their introduction at Simons first Natural Dominance party a few months back, and she was shamefully happy to see Jennifer in such a state.

Letting herself inside she closed the door just in time to hear her Mistress, "There you are, where the FUCK have you been?", demanded an arms folding Sasha at the top of the stairs. "Get your white ass up here NOW!"

"Yes my Mistress!" Chimed Miss Simons, suddenly not feeling nearly as smug as she had a moment ago.

"And leave that coat in the closet, honestly I don't know why you keep trying to hide your knew position on the squad!"

For the first time since leaving her own home, Simons completely removed the heavy coat and hung it in the closet so that she was now only in her skimpy cheerleading uniform. In another short moment she was dashing up the stairs to her foot stomping impatient black Mistress. Just as she reached the top of the stairs she could faintly hear the sounds of torment coming from somewhere downstairs in the form of a hard slap and a sobbing yelp, "I'm sorry Mistress please...."

Upstairs Simons followed Sasha down the hall towards Trish's room. Upon entering it, Simons was treated to a pair of her most favorite breasts in the whole world. Trish, her reamister for living, was lying royally on her bed, her back held up slightly against the backboard. She was topless, which allowed for the two naked white teens laying on either side of her to suckle gently upon each of her amazing nipples. On the right one was Amber, an equally amazing specimen of a young woman, virtually flawless and athletic. She had one hand gently cupping the dark breast as she sucked and licked the nipple like it was the nectar of life. Opposite her was a girl Simons was unfamiliar with. She definitely was not one of the current white girls of the squad and it appeared that she was quite inexperienced. She was fumbling around with Trish's left breast a little too uncaring for the goddess's taste and was awkwardly dabbing her tongue against the nipple. The girl's eyes were glued the whole time on Amber as if trying to mimic her technique with little success.

Trish herself had her eyes closed, with a overall look of pleasure on her face. Sasha was already sitting down at the computer desk against the wall of the room when she alerted Trish of their presence, "I found her standing at the door. Stupid bitch thinks she needs orders for everything like a lame dog!"

Trish opened her eyes and looked upon Simons for the first time today, immediately making the older white woman's knees wobbly. "Nice tits Miss S, what did you do to them?"

"She tit-fucked a clown!", laughed Sahsa. Trish snorted as well, looking at the strawberry stains.

"So tell me clown fucker, you ready for your first cheerleading dream party of the new administration?"

Simons nodded cautiously at Trish. She had visited previous year's dream parties, when they were innocent white girl only events. Now she couldn't even think about what lay in store for her and her fellow white cheerleaders.

"Miss Simons, you do remember Katty don't you?" Jessica gave a confused look as the young girl opposite Amber lifted her face off of the brown breast and turned towards Simons. Suddenly she was under the gaze of the nastiest stare she had ever received. Such a vicious look it was, that it actually set off goose bumps along her arms. Now Miss Simons remembered EXACTLY who this young girl was.

"Well she remembers you! Remembers the day she had to be thrown off the squad so you'd have the spot. You weren't too happy about that experience were you Katty?" Katty shook her head in agreement. She did not look happy at all. "She's here trying to get a second chance back into the squad. I think she wants to take back her uniform that your wearing, that is if you haven't stretched it out?"

"I...", Simons began, "don't want to...give it back...I want to be a cheerleader...your cheerleader!"

Katty turned to gave Trish a pleading look who acknowledged her by patting her on the head, then pushing it down back to her saliva coated left nipple.

"Oh I know you do Miss S. You want to be the best cheerleader ever just to make me happy!"

"More than anything!" Professed Simons as she sunk to her knees, her tiny skirt riding up exposing her vagina in the process.

"Get up you silly thing. I'm not kicking you off the squad any time soon! Katty has other ideas for you to make it up to her. In the meantime I want you to go downstairs and fetch Party Toy from the basement. She needs to go in the trunk of Mrs Lowenstien's new car. But first make sure that she's ready before you take her up. Sasha, go with her and show her what to do, she's bound to fuck things up!"

A reluctant Sasha turned away from the computer and escorted Simons out the room towards the stairs. As they reach the entrance to the basement door, Miss Simons hesitated slightly. A real sense of fear was overwhelming her. Party Toy represented the final act of Natural Dominance and it scared the coach deeply. True Miss Simons was a virtual slave to her former black cheerleaders, but she still had her home and some of her freedom. The white woman who lived past this basement door had none of that, giving up her career and her sexuality to live the life of a white slave. Simons shivered as she recalled how willing she was to do the same exact thing in her day dream a few hours ago.

Sasha opened the door and together they peered into the darkness below. Turning on the switch next to the door illuminated the long set of stairs leading to the cold room. Slowly Simons followed Sasha down them until they reached the bottom. Along the walls were different assortments of paddle, whips, collars, and a few things Miss Simons had no idea what they were. Then, against the far corner of the room Simons saw it, the cage. It was nothing fancy, though it was quite large, probably meant for a very large dog. Trish and her lady weren't very wealthy people so why should they spoil their white slave?

Lying arelax on at the center of it was a pale young woman, her white bald head shining the rooms two light bulbs back into the coach's eyes. As the two of them approached her, the woman in the cage began to stir, raising her head off its floor and blinking at them. Sasha unlocked the cage and held it open as the woman crawled out from inside it. Sasha crudely ran her hand along the top of her bald head, as if to check something.

"Too much stubble, she needs to be shaved. Grab the electric shaver on the table over there." Simons looked around for a moment before spotting it. Picking it up she made to give it to her Mistress, "No I don't think so. I'll tell you exactly what to do. First shave her head with it. When that's done, make sure her eye brows are taken care of. Finally, have her lay on her back and spread her legs so you can clean up her crack. When she's all smooth only then I'll collar and leash her. Now hurry up, I don't want to waste all my time taking care of this thing!"

Simons looked down at the woman who was looking right back up, expecting a command of some sort.

"You have to tell her what you want coachy, that's what slaves do. She's even lower than you, so tell her to kneel before you so you can shave her egg head!"

"I...you should kneel...right here" Simons stumred over her words, not sounding commanding at all. Never the less Party Toy crawled up to the adult cheerleader and kneeled before her, placing her arms behind her back and spreading her knees to present her sex. "Tilt your head to me...please..." Dutifully Toy bent forward slightly and Simons turned the shaver on. The loud buzzing noise echoed around the room as she brought it up against Toy's stubred head and with trepidation began dragging it across. Bit by bit the stubble was removed. It felt so unreal to the coach as she did her trimming duties, as if this were not a human being but an natural. As if the head she was shaving had no brain in it. Just an obeying, eating....toy!

"Now tell her to look up at you so you can shave her eyebrows." Miss Simons had been running her hand over a completely smooth scalp when given the command and she in turn commanded Toy, who looked up at her with an expressionless face. Gently she began shaving the stubble above Toy's eyes. Simons couldn't help but think of the Mona Lisa as she did this task.

"Ok, thats enough, now up her crack. Have her lay down on her back and lift her legs up and open."

Simons commanded the young woman into the proper position. It truly amazed her that this slave was so utterly and totally compliant. Not a hint of hesitation or resistance. Did she really find pleasure in this sort of servitude? As Simons lowered the shaver to Toy's delicate labias, she found herself recalling her daydream again. Herself kneeling before Trish, handing a pair of scissors to her, and offering her own head of hair as an offering to become her exclusive Party Toy. Suddenly it didn't feel quite so much like a dream. Would she...could she really do it?

Faster than she had thought, she had finished shaving up and down Toy's vaginal/butt track. Simons then stood back as Sasha inspected her handy work, examining the 'Toy' as if she were a cow about to be sold off to slaughter, all she needed were the cow patches.

"She looks decent enough. Most those women don't care if she's perfect, as long as she can satisfy them all without tiring." With that she gave the toy a quick slap to the butt, eliciting a quick squeal from the young woman. "Get her leashed and collared, then bring her upstairs and wait by the front door while I tell Amber's mom to pop open the trunk."

As Simons reached up for the leash and collar on the wall Sasha darted upstairs and out the basement door.

"Please....help me..."

Simons froze on the spot, a leash in her left hand and a collar in her right as she still faced the wall. Slowly she turned around...

Kneeling there on the floor was the only other permister in the room. Staring back at her were two big black watery eyes.

"Please...rescue me...I'm trapped..." Tears were now running down the creature's cheeks, her voice now obligation up. Instinctively Simons dropped to her knees and held the slave's head with one hand, dropping the leash and collar.

"What do you mean help you? Trapped? But I thought...you wanted..."

"I...I...cant stop it...I can't stop it...I can't stop it.... "

Simons held her finger to Toy's lips and hushed her, "Cant stop what?"

"They tell me its in my genes. That its my destiny to serve them, to be kept down here, to be their....but I don't want to be a white slave...I want to be free!"

Simons looked back at her speechless. This was the same thing Mrs Lowenstien had been telling her.

"I want to go back home, to my fiancé, to Law School, to my life! But every time they tell me to kiss their shoes, lick their clits, or fetch the whip my mind shuts down, my pussy becomes wet, and my life becomes theirs. You have to help me get out of here, please you have to hel..."

Suddenly Toy became very quiet, her face turning even whiter than before and her eyes cast down submissively. Simons quickly turned around and became a few shades whiter herself.

"Why the FUCK are you two still down here??? Didn't I tell your sorry white ass to get that bitch upstairs and by the door?" Sasha stormed across the room and slapped her former cheerleading coach hard across the face, sending the kneeling older woman down onto the cold floor. Simons immediately looked up into Toy's eyes. Simons could just make out the breath of hopelessness leaving the white slave.

"Get up you useless cunt and put that dame leash on her NOW."

Under her demanding little Mistress's eyes, Simons fastened the collar around Toy's neck as fast as she possibly could, apologizing the whole time. Literally in seconds she was handing the leash to a steamed young black girl who roughly yanked it, causing Toy to fall forward onto her face. Not skipping a beat Sahsa dragged the struggling crawling white natural up the stairs, Simons following regretfully behind them.

First Mrs Lowentstien, and now this young woman had called out for help to her. Why? What could she do, as another genetically submissive white woman to help them? She was bound to serve these black women just like they were. What made her so different in their eyes?

Once at the front door Simons expected Sasha to attempt to cover up Toy's naked pale body, but to her latest horror she simply walked right out the door. Simons glanced around praying no one would be outside to witness this absurd spectacle. Her prayers were answered as they moved swiftly towards the parked car. In a lower class neighborhood like this one, not too many people seemed to be out and about.

Sasha approached the open trunk and waited as Toy climbed into it, laying herself into a semi ball. Just as Sahsa began to lower the trunk door Simon's eyes caught the young woman's, another tear in mid roll down her cheek. Sasha slammed the trunk closed and marched back into the house without another word. Simons waited till Sasha had disappeared before lowering her face to the trunk door whispering, "I'm sorry." She could just make out a soft sob on the other side.

"You didn't forget to tell her to come out now did you?"

Simons looked up and stared blankly at Mrs Lowenstien. Suddenly she remembered about Trish's mom and how she DIDNT tell her to come outside to the car. All she could do was bite her lip.

"Ugh! I expect that kind of crap from these blacks, but you? A white woman? Your becoming just as stupid as they are. If I had a nickel for every time...."

Mrs Lowenstien suddenly glanced down to her side and the red drained from her overheated face. Quickly she picked up the ringing cell phone and brought it to her worried face. "Yes Mistress Zamora, what can your white slave do for you? Um...excuse me, sorry Mistress you are right. What can your USELESS white slave CUNT do for you?" Jessica could see the wealthy wife and lady cringing her teeth as she spoke, clearly hating every syllable of her speech.

"You're white cunt slave is still waiting for Trish's lady to arrive. Yes I know your party is starting soon. No the guests wont be pleased if we arrive late. Yes I am a stupid bimbo but...well...yes...I am playing with myself...I don't know why...yes I'll stop right away Mistress Zamora....and will make sure this useless white slave cunt arrives on time for the party. Bye Mistress!"

Mrs Lowenstien placed the phone down and looked pathetically up at Simons. "Please, just go and tell her to come outside. Before my Mistress makes my life a living hell!"

Simons nodded, turned around and marched back towards the house, already forgetting about the quietly sobbing creature in the car trunk. Just as she arrived on the porch, two more cars begin pulling into the drive way. Instinctively she dashed into the house and closed the door. An overwhelming sense of worry filled her as she wondered if the parents inside the cars had seen her dressed this way. For some reamister Simons still held onto that last bit of self respect, where the parents of the cheerleaders could still believe she was in charge and in control. If they only knew how much she wasn't.

(Whack) (Whack) "I don't care how much it hurts whore! I'll make dame sure you never break another one again!" (Whack)

Miss Simons could hear loud moaning in between bursts of screams. Peaking into the kitchen she watched as Trish's Mom rounded her exhausted boss and whacked her in the ass with what appeared to be a wooden spoon. Jennifer was literally hanging limp from handcuffs attached to the ceiling, her eyes closed, tears running down her cheek, her maid apron around her belly as her tits and sagging butt were red as lava. One high heel had slipped off her foot while the other one threatened to follow suit at any moment.

(Whack)(Whack)(Whack)

"Um...Mrs..."

Instantly Trish's mom turned towards the former high school cheerleading coach and narrowed her eyes.

"What is it? You want some too cheery?"

"NO...I mean please no thank you ma'am. But your ride is waiting for you...to take you to the party."

She thought for a moment, her face seeming to lighten up a bit. "Is Toy already in the trunk?" Simons nodded her head. "Very well, here you take over!" Simons stared at the wooden spoon being handed to her as Jessica's eyes opened up for the first time.

"Ma'am?"

"Give it to her good while I'm gone! This sorry cunt has broken my cuckolds brownie for the last time!"

And with that she grabbed her purse off the table and marched out the front door. Jessica now turned back to look at a sweaty, heavy breathing Jennifer, whose delirious face did its best to hold the coach's gaze. Miss Simons hesitated. Should she really continue a***ing this woman. She recalled a few months back to the first 'Party' Simons had been taken to. Of how rude and uncaring Jennifer had been towards her. As she remembered these thoughts she found herself gripping the spoon handle tighter and tighter. Then her eyes focused on the shiny red tits still rising up and down with heavy breathing and her heart filled with pity for the poor boss. This could easily be her hanging from the kitchen ceiling.

Putting the spoon on the table she pick up a bowl and opened the freezer door. Filling the bowl with ice cubes she returns, walking around the dangling woman and kneeling behind her. Taking a cube from the bowl she brings it delicately to the steaming red skin of Jennifer's rear and rubs it lightly. Instantly Jennifer gasps at the cold, but soon she quiets down, closing her eyes and embracing the cooling sensation. Within no time Simons goes through half the bowl of cubes, all of them quickly melting on the heated skin. The whole time neither women say a word to each other, yet the occasional moans of appreciation allow her to continue.

Jessica rose and walked to the front, where she applied a new cube to the soar breasts. Delicately she encircles them, from outside in until she reaches the areolas. Instinctively the nipples harden, a reaction Simons finds mesmerizing. For reamisters she cant explain she continued holding the cubes there, encircling the areolas over and over until they are almost completely covering the hardened nipples. Jennifer begins to stir uncomfortably in her bonds, the skin becoming numb, yet still Jessica does not remove them. By now they are directly over her nipples as Jennifer opens her eyes to moan in pain, staring quizzically, but even still, to Simons own surprise she keeps the cubes over the numbed nipples.

"Please, it hurts."

The words echo inside Miss Simon's ears as what is left of the melting cubes vanish to Jennifer's relief. Simons then looks down, past the maid apron hanging from her midsection and down to the house maid's legs. There, between two slick inner thighs was one unmistakably damp pussy. Reaching into the bowl she takes another cube and presses softly against Jessica's sex lips. The hanging woman immediately thrusts her hips backward to get away from the evil cube but it is of little use in her bonds. Soon she begins to shake and moan as the puffy lips join her nipples in growing numbing pain.

"Why are you doing this? Please stop, it hurts!"

But Simons doesn't respond, simply fetching another cube when the first melts away, placing it against a now hard clit. Soon Jennifer begins to openly curse the cheerleading coach, first demanding, then begging her to stop. Simons does, removing the half melted cube from the clit and instead sliding it into the warm vagina. This is followed by another, then another.

An overwhelming sense of power is filling up inside Miss Simons, one she has never experienced. A sense of complete control over this shaking, moaning white woman at her complete mercy. Is this what her own black tormentors feel? This power? This control?

When no more cubes will fit, she takes the last remaining cube out of the bowl and again presses it against the delirious woman's clit. As she screams in torment Simons cant help but lean forward and kiss the woman on the lips. The screams echo in her throat for a moment, then to her surprise she feels the woman kissing her back. They hold this embrace until the cubes completely melt away. As Simons finally pulls back, Jennifer softly whispers "Bitch" as she stares into her eyes. Simons smirks, flicks the numb wet clit with her finger nail and starts walking away.

"Wait, please, you can't leave me hanging like this"

Miss Simons turned back around with pity, realizing she simply couldn't leave this fellow white woman hanging like this. She returns and lifts her hands up to the restraints.

"No, I didn't mean that..."

Simons looked into the hazy eyes, before lowering her hands and bringing one of them to the house maid's tormented pussy. Lightly she rubs along the wet slit, grazing her clit every other sway of her fingers. Jennifer simply closes her eyes, biting her lips and moans softly from deep within her belly. After several minutes Simon's face glances towards the table just before she falls to her knees. With the experience she's learned servicing her black Mistress Sasha she brings her eager face under the maid apron. Above her Jennifer moans with pure bliss, a kind she probably hasn't had in some time. While her tongue does its work, Simons reaches out for the wooden spoon on the table. Turning it backwards, she slowly pushes the handle between the heavy cheeks of the maid's ass. Jennifer hardly resists as Simons begins fucking her with it while continuing to lick her juiced cunt to orgasm. The moans grow into grunts as the former high school cheerleading coach darts her tongue faster and faster against the clit, inserting one, two, then three fingers inside the now very hot pussy. Finally, and with a great cry, Jennifer floods her tormentor/pleasure giver's face with her vaginal juices.

Smacking her lips, Simons peeks out from beneath the apron to look up at the shaking woman, who quickly slumps in her bonds breathing heavily. Simons rises and again brings her face to Jennifer's, exchanging a lover's embrace.

"Thank You!" Whispered the maid as the two pull away.

"Bitch" Snickered Simons right back.

"We both are!"

Simons stares at Jennifer for a second after these words, then reluctantly nods in agreement. They really were both nothing more than bitches. Sex slut white bitches. She flicked the house maid's clit one more time before walking away, leaving Jennifer hanging limp from the kitchen ceiling, a long wooden spoon buried up her rectum.

After cleaning her face up in the bathroom Miss Simons ventured back upstairs to Trish's room to discover that five new teen girls had arrived. Two black and three white. One of the new white girls was combing a black cheerleader's hair, while another was on her knees carefully painting a pair of black toes red. The final new white girl was standing next to the make-up stand holding her cheerleading top over her tits, apparently waiting as the black girl beside her searched for the proper lipstick color to mark up her tits with.

It took a moment for her to realize that Amber was missing. As Trish sat at her computer writing emails, Katty was underneath her chair, Trish's black feet resting comfortably on the two budding pairs of breasts on Katty's chest. The young girl did her best to tolerate the weight but she clearly was uncomfortable. None the less Amber was no where in the room.

(Ding Dong)

"Oh good more are here", chimed Trish as she turned around, her eyes scanning the room until they fell on her former cheerleading coach. "Ah, you Miss Simons, go down and let them in will ya!"

Simons nodded, but just as she turned towards the door, Sasha appeared in front of her.

"I heard what you and that bimbo law student were talking about downstairs in the basement. Don't think I'm stupid. I don't think Trish would appreciate you conspiring to free the family entertainment. I think somebody will be doing an extra bit of permisteral cheering for me later...don't you agree Miss Simons?"

Miss Simons looked at her feet and nodded. The fact that she was submissively nodding to a girl 1/3 her age was no longer something to stop and consider. It was now as natural as breathing. For an extra bit of emphasis Sasha took hold of the waist band of her coach's cheerleading skirt and hiked it up around her midriff, similar to the way Jennifer's maid apron had been.

"Ok coachy, go let in our newest guest!"

Simons pleaded with her little Mistress not to send her off like this. What if the parents were downstairs with the girls? What would they say or do if they saw the grown woman in such a state?

It was all for nothing as Sasha swatted her coach on the ass and pushed her out of Trish's room. As she walked down the hallway rubbing her rear, Simons slowed down as she heard the sounds of grunting. Walking a few paces more she discovered the source of the noise, emanating out of a cracked door. Peering inside her eyes quickly focused on the bed, where two bodies where shifting back and forth, the sounds and smell of naturalistic sex echoing from them. Simons stood watching, recognizing the outline of a dark man's body, his strong butt clenching with every grunting thrust. Wrapped around the waist were a pair of very athletic, white thighs. The rest of the white female body was buried beneath sweaty body of her lover.

Simons stood there, transfixed by the amazing site. Watching the beautifully shaped forms engaging in the purest of sex, intercourse. She could feel her own sex begin to stir just before the door bell rang again, jolting her out of her magictized state and back to reality. With one last longing look, she moved on past the cracked door and down the stairs.

As she approached the front door she heard a boisterous amount of laughter coming from the other side. Peeking through the peephole Simons gasped as she saw three black girls and one very frightened naked white girl desperately trying to take back her cheerleading top and skirt. Immediately Simons opened the door to even more laughter as the girls caught sight of the older woman with her skirt up at her belly. As they moved inside they pushed the scared white girl away and slammed it shut. Immediately they all looked into the peep hole, giggling the whole time.

Miss Simons felt absolutely dreadful for the poor white girl. It was Amy. Simons was always rather fond of her and her eagerness for cheering. When she accepted her onto the squad two years ago she never dreamed of this moment happening. She felt absolutely helpless as she watched the evil black cheerleaders giggle and laugh as they watched the now delirious girl on the other side, who had by now fallen into a little pink ball to hide herself from the now busier street.

She begged and begged to be let in, but they only laughed. Finally they offered her a deal. She had to stand up, turn around to face the street, put her hands behind her head, and spread her legs. Simons could only imagine the site the girl must have given the passing cars. The black cheerleaders just looked out the peep hole and laughed, telling her to shake her tits for the traffic. It wasn't until a car actually stopped and a man started to get out did they finally open the door. She practically fell onto the carpet floor in a state of hysteria the coach had never witnessed. The cheerleaders gave her little time to calm down as they dragged her naked and all up the stairs to Trish's room. Simons followed not far behind them, her skirt still up around her tummy. As the four girls stumred into Trish's room, Jessica again stopped in front of the cracked door, the sounds of love louder than before.

Amber was now on her hands and knees, the dark man bent over her, his head resting over hers, his large hands grasping her white soft breasts. In this new position the two bodies were thrusting with all their power, the moans of a female in pleasure, the sound of a man in lust, the smell of sex. Simons wet her dry lips.

"Sexy isn't it?"

Miss Simons turned and took a step back as she stared at the love of her life, Trish.

"Well?"

The former coach nodded.

"Which of them do you enjoy watching? Him or her?"

Miss Simons turned back to the undulating bodies for a moment before answering, "Both".

Trish glanced at the two lovers for a moment as well and sighed pleasantly. "Sex between a man and a woman is always a beautiful thing to look at. There is nothing more pure, more natural."

Simons didn't respond.

"That is why I give in to all his annoying begging to let him fuck her. She's my white slave, but I let him take her from time to time. Do you know why?"

Jessica shook her head no.

"Because this gives me peace. Seeing him and her, a man and a woman. Never mind that he is black and she is white, or even that he's my brother. For all the truths of natural dominance between a black girl like me and white girls like you and Amber, from time to time I need to be grounded at what is real in life. Its my lady who told me about this. You don't go around the outside world too often and see white women trailing submissively behind black. Oh most white women are naturally submissive, but its simply not how our world operates. That's the truth of natural dominance, and giving my slave to my horny brother from time to time reminds me of that, as it should you, Miss Simons!"

Simons was speechless, both at how much sense it all made and at how eloquent Trish had said it. In a manner of moments, she had gained a greater knowledge and appreciation for natural dominance, and had never been more in awe of the girl she so loved.

Lowering her former cheerleading coach's skirt back into the proper position, Trish took Miss Simon's by the hand and led her towards her room. It would be in there that the cheerleading dream party would soon begin, and a night of debauchery, offense, and love would be realized by all.

Francine : UNE VISITE INATTENDUE.


Michel rentre de sa réunion, fou de rage. Guy, mister pire ennemi vient de lui souffler la présidence de l'association qu'il a crée de toutes pièces. Il le déteste.
-Mais calme toi mon chéri, lui dit sa femme Francine.
Va prendre une douche, çà ira mieux après.
Francine non plus n'aime pas Guy. Elle le trouve macho. Avec mister air hautain de séducteur, cheveux noirs, grosse moustache. Une ressemblance frappante avec Charles Bronmister. Avec sa femme Christine, ils forment un couple assez libertin. Même les partouzes ne leur font pas peur. C'est pour çà qu’ils ne les fréquentent pratiquement plus. Michel passe un mauvais dimanche, à faire la tête malgré les propositions alléchantes de mister épouse.
Le lundi matin, Francine décide d'aller faire du shopping. Elle prend une douche, enfile un string, une jupe noire qui arrive à mi cuisses, et un chemisier banc. Pas de soutien gorge. A vingt huit ans, ses seins tiennent seul. Sur sa route, se trouve la villa de Guy. Elle aperçoit la voiture garée dans la cour.
"Tiens, se dit-elle, si j'allais tirer cette histoire au clair"
Elle misterne. C'est lui qui ouvre. Il est en train de téléphoner avec mister portable. Il est simplement vêtu d'un peignoir blanc. Il sort de la douche
-Excuse moi, je te rappelle. Francine, quelle surprise.
Toujours aussi ravissante, je vois. Christine vient juste
de partir, tu la manque de rien.
-Tant mieux, dit-elle, justement, c'est toi que je voulais
voir.
-A bon, répond Guy surpris, qu'est-ce-qu'il se passe. Il
y a un problème.
-C'est quoi ce coup de pute que tu as fais à mon mari.
Tu te prends pour qui.
-Attend, il envoie sa femme pour régler ses affaires. je le
savais incapable, mais pas à ce point, poursuit Guy en
s'asseyant sur le canapé.
Francine s'avance pour lui mettre une gifle. D'un réflexe, il lui bloque le poignet. Elle lance l'autre main, il a bloque aussi. sans difficulté apparente, il relie les deux poignets dans sa seule main gauche. Lentement, il tire sur ses bras pour l'obliger à s'avancer. Elle est forcée d'écarter ses jambes pour éviter ses genoux.
-Lâche moi, dit-elle en colère.
D'un calme olympien, Guy avance sa main libre entre les cuisses de Francine, écarte le string et glisse un doigt. Elle se débat, mais ne fait qu'aggraver la situation. En effet, plus elle se débat, plus elle écarte ses jambes, et plus sa jupe remonte sur ses cuisses.
-Lâche moi je te dis, petit con, lève ton doigt de là.
Laisse moi partir.
-Pourquoi, tu es pressée, sourit-il. On est pas bien tout
les deux, tu veux pas qu'on joue? On a le temps.
Il a maintenant inséré deux doigts dans la chatte de Francine. Il parcours les lèvres de bas en haut, remontant jusqu'au clitoris qu'il taquine avec un ongle. Elle est rouge de honte.
-Je t'en prie, laisse moi partir,je veux rentrer.
Mais mister corps la trahit. Elle résiste moins. Elle semble apprécier ces doigts qui fouillent mister intimité. Elle a sa respiration qui s'accélère. Elle sent mister bouton durcir sous les caresses de plus en plus vicieuses.
-Mais c'est quelle mouille la cochonne, remarque Guy.
Serait-elle en train de se régaler. Si ton mari savait
que sa femme se fait doigter par mister pire ennemi, qu'est-
ce-qu'il dirait?
-Tais toi, gémit Francine.
Son souffle s'accélère. Jamais on ne la caressée comme çà. Ses jambes se mettent à trembler, mister corps est pris de vibration. Elle avance mister pubis pour mieux se faire prendre. L'orgasme est là.
-Ha, salaud, tu me fais jouir sens comme je me vide.
Oh putain, tu sais y faire toi. Que c'est bon. Lâche mes
mains maintenant.
Guy libère les poignets. Francine se penche, et lui prend les lèvres. Leur langue se noue dans un long baiser. Elle glisse ses mains entre eux, et dénoue le peignoir.
-Oh mon dieu, quelle queue, et quelle paire de couilles.
Ben dit dont.
Le sexe de Guy, en érection doit faire entre dix huit et vingt centimètres, pour un diamètre de quatre et demi.
-Pourquoi, s'étonne Guy, celle de Michel, elle est comme?
-Moins grosse, répond Francine. Elle doit arriver jusque
là, et encore. Même les couilles mistert plus petites.
Elle place mister doigt pour montrer la mesure à Guy.
-Tu veux pas me la sucer un peu, dit-il.
-Hum, fait-elle. Tu veux que je te taille une pipe? C'est
çà.
Francine se penche, et de ses lèvres humides, décalotte le Gland. Puis, lentement, elle commence un savante fellation.
Le portable de Guy, posé sur l'accoudoir, misterne.
-Allo..a, c'est toi Michel.
Francine ouvre grand les yeux, et fait mine de se levait. Guy la maintient en posant une main sur ses cheveux.
-Oui... Tu m'en veux pas trop j'espère....Les papiers, çà
presse pas....C'est Francine qui va les porter....comme
tu veux, allez, tchao.
-Tu aurais pu lui dire que j'étais en train de te sucer.
-Fini moi à la main, dit-il, je vais cracher.
-Pas question, dit-elle en le reprenant en bouche. Fais
toi plaisir jusqu'au bout, joui dans ma bouche.
Guy éjacule en abondance dans la bouche de Francine, Elle avale tout, passant bien sa langue sur le gland.
-Pas mal pour une première rencontre, dit Guy, tu veux
qu'on se revoit?
-C'est risqué, répond-elle. J'ai fais un sale coup à mon
mari. Je l'ai trompé, et avec mister pire ennemi en plus.
Et toi, tu tiens à ce qu'on se revoit.
-On peut discuter de tout çà sou la douche. Non?
-Si tu veux, allons-y. Tu seras sage, hein?
Au bout d'un quart d'heure, un hurlement de plaisir, rémisterne dans la salle de bains. Francine vient de jouir pour la deuxième fois.