Date: Tue, 21 Sep 2010 15:00:56 EDT
From: Mikeallanb@aol.com
Subject: Black Girls Can?t Be Cheerleaders

Black Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders (f/f, f+/F, inter, sub,  humil)
by Phoenix Arrow

Black  Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders Chapter 1

Miss Simons new this day would come.  After so many years of trying to keep
 things the same, she finally had to give in and put black girls into her
all  white cheerleader squad.  It pained  her to have to taint the beauty of
9 white taut female bodies with black ones,  but the school board and school
itself had demanded more fair equalization in  all activities.
Not that Miss Simons disliked black girls, she was not a  racist in any
capacity.  She just  preferred to work with white girls who are so much more
docile and peppy,  compared to the usually authoritative and demanding black
girls.
So with great reluctance, she openly advertised  cheerleading positions to
the black girls of the high school.  She even sent out her white
cheerleaders  to try to bring in some black girls.
Despite the strong recruiting campaign however, no black  girls were
signing up.  Miss Simons  figured that they must have been so used to the all
white squad, they just  weren't interested in becoming cheerleaders.
Except one.
Trish was a very athletic and beautiful senior with light  brown skin.
She approached the coach one day while the squad  practiced in the gym.
Simons took one look at her and offered her a position  right on the spot.
She finally had her black girl, bringing the squad total  to 10.
Even though Miss Simons was worried about putting a black  girl on the
squad, she new  there  was no choice.  Yet despite her  reservations she was
becoming quite impressed with Trish.  She was showing up early to every
practice and was really contributing.  The squad was even working better as a unit
since she'd been with  them.
After two weeks Simons was beginning to feel at ease with  Trish.  Even the
respect the white  cheerleaders were having for her was becoming obvious.
Trish was always the  center of attention and they followed her wherever she
went.
There was even talk of her taking over as squad  captain.  This was bad new
for  Amber.  You see Amber was already  the senior captain of the squad.
For four years she had worked very hard to become the captain and didn't
want to loose it to a black girl who'd only been on the team a few  weeks.
Soon Miss Simons became worried about Amber's obvious  attempts to sabotage
Trish.  She  would make rude comments behind her back and would never give
her any  help.
But after several weeks, it was of no use.  All of the other white girls
were  obviously on Trish's side.  It did  become a little strange to see how
they acted around her.  The girls would hardly ever look Trish  in the eyes
and almost never did the coach see anyone ever walk in front of  her.
Usually they were at her side  or behind her, but never in front.  Very strange.
Unfortunately, Miss Simons had other things to worry  about.  Several of
her best girls  were leaving the squad.  This was  bad news if she wanted to
maintain her squad's high level of  competition.
She almost begged them to stay.  And when she asked why they were  leaving,
she could hardly believe the answer.  Some how they had gotten into their
heads that they weren't good enough to be cheerleaders and didn't deserve
to be  on the squad.
In the end Miss Simons couldn't stop them from hanging up  their uniforms
and quitting the team.  She also couldn't help but notice they were perhaps
the least attractive  of the white girls.
Fortunately, seeing Trish's success, a few more black  girls ask to join
the squad.  Having  no choice Simons accepted them into the group and now had
6 white girls and 4  black.
With the mixing of colors, Simons now returned her focus  back to good hard
training.  Within  a few weeks the squad was doing better than she had seen
in a long time, and was  far surpassing the competition from other schools.
Over the next month two more black girls had joined the  group bringing the
cheerleader total to 12, 6 white and 6 black.  Simons was applauded by the
school for  managing to integrate so well.  Even  better, the coach was very
pleased to see that the hostility between Amber and  Trish had gone.
Apparently, in a  wonderful gesture of goodwill, Amber gave Trish the captaincy.
Miss Simons was a little bit surprised  by this.  Amber had so dearly
wanted  to be captain since she was a young freshmen.  Yet now Trish held the
title and all the  other girls were quite happy with it.
Even more unusual was how Amber seemed to go out of her  way to make Trish
feel comfortable.  Take for instance the foot rubbings.  After every
practice Miss Simons would  enter the locker room and see her white former captain
gently rubbing Trish's  tired sweaty feet.  Simons was a  little bit
disappointed that Trish would never return the favor, or even give a  thank you
when they finished, but maybe she'd come around.
Another very nice gesture by Amber was to site on the  floor instead of the
bench when they were changing.  Despite the obvious difficulties of
changing into a cheerleader uniform while on the floor, Amber didn't seem to  mind
allowing the black girl a lot more room to stretch out on the  bench.
But the best development however was how all the other  white girls seemed
to follow Amber's lead.  Each white girl had become closer to a particular
black girl of the same  age.  The white girls would almost  always stay close
to her new black friend and Simons even noticed one of the  white girls
carrying her books for her in the hallways.
About a month later things were even better.  Several colleges were coming
to see the  routines and Miss Simons was just so proud of all her girls.
Bringing the black girls into the squad  was turning out to be a very good
idea indeed.
However, things weren't as perfect as they seemed.  Despite all the
wonderful gestures the  white girls were doing, the black girls had as of yet still
not done anything of  good will in return, and the coach could swear that
the black girls didn't even  appreciate the gestures.
Like when the girls would shower.  Usually each one is given only one towel
 to dry themselves with.  Yet lately  when they all come out, the black
girls have two towels wrapped around their  bodies.  One covering their chests
and one around the hips.
The white girls come out not far behind naked and  wet.  As the black girls
dry  themselves up by the lockers, the white girls sit on the floor waiting
for them  to finish.  Finally after almost ten  minutes the black girls
toss their used towel at them to dry up.
At first Simons was thinking if she should say something  to Trish, who was
now the most influential girl on the squad.  But seeing how good everything
was  going, she really didn't want to rock the boat.  And besides, the
white girls didn't seem  to really mind doing all these favors for their fellow
black  cheerleaders.
But things still got more strange.
Usually during cheers at football games, fans wouldn't be  very
enthusiastic.  Yet for some  reason, today they were going nuts.  Every time one of the
white girls would do a jump or a split, the guys in  the stands would
whistle and cheer like never before.
The coach was hopeful it was because they had improved  considerably.
But when she noticed that none of the black girls where  getting as much
support during their exercises, and that the white girls looked  flushed every
time they finished, Simons became a little suspicious.  Curious, she walked
in front of the  girls and waited for them to do a cheer.
First Trish performed a really well done stand, with one  foot balanced on
the hand of a girl beneath her and her other leg held up  high.  It's a
common cheer, and all  there was to see was her uniform panties and lots of
black leg, no big  deal.
Then one of the white girls, Sara, prepared to do the  same.  She noticed
her coach  watching and began to panic, but the black girl behind her grabbed
her by the  waist and held her firm.  As she  whispered something into Sara'
s ear, Sara lowered her head and nodded.  Within moments Sara was up in the
 air.  As Sara raised her leg up,  Miss Simons' mouth dropped.  Sara's
entire vagina was exposed to all the fans.  As the fans erupted behind her,
Simons watched Sara's deeply blushing  face as she was lowered to the ground
and patted on the ass.
Miss Simons was in complete shock.  Did Sara intentionally not put on any
panties or did she simply forget?  As she watched the rest of the girls do
their jumps and splits, she got  her answer.  While all 6 black girls  had
their panties on, none of the white girls had anything underneath their mini
skirts.
Not wanting to make a scene, Simons allowed the girls to  remain out on the
field.  But by the  end of the game, she was fuming.  As  they all made
their way to the locker room, Trish surprised her coach form  behind.
"Hey Miss Simons, is there anything wrong?"
"I should most certainly say yes.  Half of your fellow cheerleaders were
cheering without any panties today!"
"Oh that.  It's really no big deal.  We  told them to do that."
"WHAT?"
"Yes Miss Simons, we told the white girls not to wear  panties to the game
today."
"But why would you do that?"
"To improve the excitement of our cheering.  We new that seeing pussies
would get the  fans riled up during the game, and even bring in more."
"That's a horrible idea.  And why only the white girls?  I saw all the
black girls wearing  panties!"
"Because quite frankly Miss Simons were not sluts.  We have too much
respect for our bodies  to show it off like that."
"What are you talking about?  I know these girls, they come from  respected
families.  I would never  believe they would want to do something like that.
"
"They didn't want to Miss Simons, they did it because we  told them to."
"Excuse me?  I don't understand?  Why  would do what you tell them?"
"Well its really quite simple, its called natural  dominance."
"I don't follow."
"Miss Simons, when a pampered white female finds herself  in the presence
of a black female, she tends to become submissive towards  her.  There's
nothing really wrong  with it, its only natural.  Us black  girls are simply
fulfilling natures role when we dominate them."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing."
"Its true, even you must be feeling it yourself from time  to time huh Miss
Simons."
The coach was speechless.  How dare her prized cheerleader say such
things.
"Come on coach, being around all us athletic black  girls...."
"Trish I don't know what your talking about, how dare you  say such a
thing to me.  Now get  back inside that locker room and shower off."
Trish simply smiled at her coach and went into the  building.  Miss Simons
just stood  out there for a moment, trying to contemplate what her head
cheerleader just  told her.  The idea of white women  being naturally submissive
to black women is absurd, and how rude of Trish to  suggest that her coach
was susceptible to the same reactions.
As she entered the locker room and peered into the  showers, she saw all 6
white girls either kneeling or standing naked gently  washing the bodies of
their black `friend'."
Suddenly it finally hit her.  Finally she truly realized what was  going on
between both groups of girls.  Her prim and proper white cheerleaders were
turning into submissive  playthings to their black counterparts.  White
freshman submitting to black freshmen, white seniors to black  seniors.  It was
really  happening.
Then she looked in the corner of the shower room and saw  Trish standing in
front of one of the hot showers.  Down at her feet was Amber, kneeling
with her pale ass high in the air as she scrubbed Trish's black feet.
After a moment of taking in the scene, Miss Simons  started to notice her
heart was racing.  In a panic she rushed out of the locker room as fast as
she could and  immediately drove home.  Slightly  shaking from the experience,
she slipped into her bathroom and took a long hot  shower of her own.
She just couldn't believe it.  These girls were so sweet and innocent  when
it was just them.  Most of  these girls came from wealthy families in good
neighborhoods, yet the image of  Monica, a white sophomore, kneeling before
a black girl delicately washing her  dark legs and thighs was unreal.
Unknowingly Miss Simons lowered her hand between her  thighs as the images
flashed through her mind.  Then the image turned to Amber and  Trish.  Oh
how she remembered Amber's proud face when she was awarded head cheerleader.
And how hard she initially fought Trish  to maintain it.  Yet now she was on
 her knees cleaning the new head cheerleader's feet.
Miss Simons was freely stroking her sex now.  The hot water beating down on
her face  and chest.  Soon her legs weakened  and she lowered to her knees.


Suddenly the image had  changed again.  Instead of seeing  Trish from
outside the shower, Trish now stood before her.  Her long black athletic legs
towering  over the coach.  She had replaced  Amber.  It was she who was
kneeling  before the black female.  At that
Moment Miss Simon's pussy  spasmed around her fingers.

During the next week the mood brightened for the coach by  the fact that
her squad was rated as the #1 group in the entire county.  All competing
coaches were so jealous of  the success of her girls, and Simons beamed with
pride.
She even forgot to notice how each white girl continued  to cater to the
whims of her fellow black cheerleader.
Leading up to the next football game, the coach was  convinced that they
would put on their best performance yet.  She even made sure that ALL the
girls  had panties on this time.
The game went on with out a hitch as all the routines  were flawless and
spectacular.  Miss  Simons was becoming ever so proud as they worked their
routine.  By the end if the 2nd  quarter, the fans were really riled up with
excitement.
Of course not everything could go so perfectly.  As halftime came, Miss
Simons allowed  her girls to take a short break.  As  the coach took a seat to
rest, she noticed out of the corner of her eye two  cheerleaders walking
towards a small group of fans who were particularly  rowdy.
Immediately they were recognized as Michelle and  Wanda.  Wanda was gently
pushing a  visibly nervous Michelle towards the men who were now leaning
over the bars  urging them closer.
Observing, Simons saw Wanda begin to talk to the men,  almost jokingly as
Michelle stood beside her.  Wanda then walked behind Michelle,  whispered
something into her ear, reached around and took hold of the bottom of  Michelle'
s cheerleader top.
Then to the utter disbelief of the coach, Wanda lifted  Michelle's top,
revealing her milky white breasts to the men.  As Wanda continued to hold
Michelle's  top up one of the men reached out his hands and began to fondle the
teen.
A few moments later more black cheerleaders were coming  over, with their
white cheerleaders in tow.  In no time more tops were being lifted  as more
white breasts were being roughly squeezed and pulled.  One of the black girls
even lifted the  front of her girl's skirt revealing her panties to a man,
who quickly slip a  hand inside.
Miss Simons just froze with shock at the scene that so  quickly formed
before her.  Half her  squad was getting felt up.  Even  more amazing was that
the white girls would allow the black girls to display  them like this.
Simons snapped out of her shock and quickly looked to see  if anyone else
had noticed, but the main crowd appeared to not have.  Realizing that she
couldn't allow this  kind of nonsense to continue she immediately went over and
began yelling at her  exhibitionist cheerleaders.
Scared, all the girls rushed back onto the field and  prepared to begin
their next routine.
Thankfully, nothing else went out of the ordinary for the  rest of the
game.  But Miss Simons  was still visibly very upset, and the girls tried to
avoid eye contact with her  as they filed into the locker room at the end of
the game.
But the coach had had enough.  All this crap had to end.  Natural dominance
or no natural  dominance, these black girls were going to have to leave the
white girls  alone.  Miss Simons was an adult  woman and these were black
teenage girls, if they aren't going to listen, than  they'd be off the
squad.
Once inside the locker room, Simons sent all the white  girls home and
ordered all the black girls into her office.  With rolled eyes they entered and
gathered around her desk as she shut the door.
"Ok, now I've had absolutely enough of all this  nonsense.  I still don't
know  exactly what it is that you girls are doing to your fellow white
cheerleaders,  but its going to stop right now.  Your supposed to be a team, a
tight, supportive unit.  Your not supposed to turn them into your  personal
servants!"
"But Miss Simons, its what they really want.  Its in their blood."
"Trish that's absurd...."
"Its true!  White girls are much more comfortable being at a black girls
feet then  they are being equals.  As I said  its only natural.  Even during
slave  times, slave owner's wives would hardly ever visit their slaves
personally.  Its a little known fact that white women  couldn't resist the
commanding presence of their black female slaves and would  often find themselves
submitting to them, much to their humiliation."
"I'm sorry Trish but this is all very ridiculous.  Now I want you to stop
treating your  fellow cheerleaders so poorly.  Do  you understand?"
"Oh I understand Miss Simons, but I don't think you  do."
"Excuse me?"
"Miss Simons you can't tell me you haven't felt the need,  the desire."
"What are you talking about."
"You may be an adult, but your still a white woman.  You can't tell me you
haven't imagined  yourself kneeling before me."
"I...I...Trish this discussion is over...."
"Miss Simons, I do believe your blushing.  So you have imagined it.  Its
alright coach.  As I said its only natural.  You can kneel before me now if
you want,  I won't mind."
"YOU wont mind?  Trish how dare you!  I am  your coach and an adult.  You
should  be treating me with respect."
"Miss Simons, why are you holding back?  Give in to your instincts.  Why don
't you look at my legs, aren't  they nice?"
Despite herself, she look down and took in the long  legs.  Yes she did
have very nice  legs.  Long, athletic, firm,  and.....black.  As the coach
tried  to look away, she found that she couldn't.  Simons had become mesmerized
by the strong dark legs.  Something in her wouldn't let her turn  away.
"Miss Simons, wouldn't you rather look at them  from.....the floor?"
While she was talking, two other black cheerleaders  walked behind their
coach and were gently pushing down on her  shoulders.
As she continued to stare at the wonderful legs, her  began to give way as
she found herself lowering to the floor.  Soon she was actually kneeling
before  Trish and gazing up her gorgeous black legs.....  just like she
fantasized.  Her eyes then continued upward until  they disappeared beneath the
cheerleader's skirt.  Then past her smooth, muscular stomach,  up to her pert
breasts, and finally up to the wicked smile upon Trish's  face.  Miss Simons
shuddered.
"Now Miss Simons, doesn't that feel better?  Aren't you more relaxed and
at peace  with yourself?"
She was right.  The coach was more relaxed.  She did feel more at ease in
this position.  Like this is how it was meant to  be.  Yet her heart was
racing.
"You know Miss Simons, my feet really hurt from all the  hard work you made
us do today.  And  since you sent all the white girls home, there's no one
here to rub  them."
Her breathing became heavier as she lowered my eyes to  the cheerleader's
sneakers.
"Coach, since your the only white woman left, why don't  you take off my
sneakers and give my black feet a nice rub."
As Trish sat herself on the desk, Miss Simons watch as  she slowly began
removing her sneakers, followed by her sweaty, smelly  socks.  Finally Trish's
black bare  feet were dangling in front of the coach's face.
"Coach, why don't you kiss my feet first.  To show me you truly understand
how  nature works."
There it was.  The cheerleader was now asking her coach to fully admit her
subservience  to her.  Fully admit that she, an  adult white woman was
naturally submissive to a teenage black girl, and that  white women as a whole
were submissive to black women.
Miss Simons didn't move.  She just knelt there, staring at the  black girl'
s feet.  Her lungs  breathing heavily and her heart pounding in her chest.
One of the black girls gently began  pushing her head forward.  The coach
didn't resist.
She inhaled the sweaty odor as her lips made contact with  Trish's left
foot.  She began to  plant tiny, little kisses all over her feet, alternating
between the right and  the left foot.
Miss Simons had accepted her place.  There would be no turning back  now.
Trish knew it, and smiled down at her latest  conquest.
"Hmmmm, good girl....good white girl.  Now you may rub my feet." After
five  minutes of silent rubbing, Trish spoke again.  "Miss Simons, I've been
thinking.  Being in charge of an entire  cheerleading squad is a big
responsibility.  I'm not sure an adult white woman like  yourself is smart enough to
do the job, would you agree?"
Miss Simons gave a half hearted nod.
"Well perhaps you should step down then Miss Simons,  since its too
difficult for your brain to handle.  Wouldn't it be better if one of us black
girls were to take over?  You know,  run the show.  We all know your not  cut
out to lead us.  Of course you  would remain the "Official" coach of the
squad to keep the school board happy,  but your coaching days are pretty much
over."
Simons hung her head in agreement.
"But don't look so sad coach, perhaps you could still be  a part of the
team anyhow.  You  would be just perfect as a cheerleader.  You already know
all our cheers, and you already have the airhead part  nailed down.  You'd
fit right in I'm  sure."
Miss Simons couldn't believe what she was being  told.  How could Trish
expect her to  be a cheerleader?  She was 33.  Trish had to be kidding.  Wasn't
she?
"But first we need to find you the proper uniform.  Why don't you remove
all your big girl  cloths and we'll go find some."
Miss Simons froze.  There was no way that she'd expose herself in front of
her girls like  this.  She was still the coach  damit, despite what Trish
was saying.  She had to end this now, before it was too late.
Trish saw the rebellion forming in her coaches eyes, and  knew just what to
do.  She raised  her left foot and gently rubbed it against her coach's
right cheek.  Within moments, Simons resolve had  melted and she closed her
eyes as she enjoyed the sensation on her cheek.  Trish smiled as she soothed
the white  animal before her.
"Now my little pet, remove your cloths for black  Mistress."
Black Mistress.  Yes, that what she was.  It  sounded so perfectly to the
white coach.  This was her black mistress.  Just like grass is green, and sky'
s are blue, this was her Black  Mistress.
With trembling fingers, she began to undress before all  the black
cheerleaders.  Trish  snickered in her head at the site.  Only 10 minutes ago this
was a confident female coach, yet now here she  was, undressing before them
and getting ready to try on a cheerleader's  uniform.
As Simons unsnapped her bra, her large breasts bounced  free.  Soon she was
kneeling  completely naked before them.  Trish  got off of the table and
took hold of her coach's hair.  With a big tug she led her crawling pet  out
of the office.
Poor Miss Simons struggled to keep up with the black  vixen, as Trish
briskly walked out of the office and into the locker room.  In the meantime, all
the other black  girls laughed and giggled as they commented on the way her
ass jiggle and large  breasts swayed beneath her.  Some  even started
slapping her ass to increase their enjoyment.
By the time they reached the lockers, the coach's knees  ached and her ass
stung.  Trish  opened the locker of a girl named Katty.  Katty was the only
freshman cheerleader they had.  At 14 she was the cutest little thing  when
she wore her small skirt and top, especially when she was on the floor
licking between the toes of her black "friend".
Now that same small uniform was dangling in front of Miss  Simons.
"Here you go coach, I think this is just in your  size."
More giggles could be heard as Simons just knelt there  with my mouth open.
"But Trish, its too small.  It wont fit."
"I disagree, I think it'll look just peachy.  Now try it on Miss Simons, I
know you  want to listen to me.  I can tell  just how badly you really want
a black girl to tell your adult white ass what to  do.  Just look at that
mess your  making on the floor."
Poor Simons looked down in horror and saw a nice little  puddle between my
thighs.  She  inwardly cringed as she thought: "How could I get excited by
something like  this?  Do I have no self respect, no  morels?"
The coach felt that she still did, yet as she rose to put  on her new
uniform, she also realized just how comfortable it was to listen to  Trish.
Despite the immense  humiliation, she felt complete doing what she was told to
do.
When she slipped the small top over her large breasts, it  felt like it was
threatening to burst from the pressure of her fleshy  mounds.  The thin
material doing  nothing to hide her hardened nipples.
Next she slid the micro skirt up her legs.  It barely even covered the
bottom half  of her ass, and showed her entire legs.  Then she looked around for
some panties, and soon realized that there  weren't any.
Um...Trish...where are my...panties?
You wont be wearing any Miss Simons.  In fact, none of the white girls will
be  wearing panties any more.  Its one  of my newest rules as cheerleader's
coach.  Just think how happy the fans will be, lots of great cheers, and
lots of  white pussies.
Simons looked in the mirror and saw how truly ridicules  she looked.
An adult woman wearing a 14 year olds cheerleading  uniform.  Any sudden
movement and  her vagina clearly showed.  How  humiliating.
"But Trish, I looked ridicules dressed like this.  Can I Pleeeeese take it
off?" She was  sounding more like a whining child than an adult.
"Don't be silly, you look adorable.  My little white girl will be the best
 cheerleader ever.  However, even  though you look the part, we first have
to make sure you can really handle the  physical demands of being a
cheerleader.  Ready for a run Miss Simons?"
The coach's eyes opened wide.  She knew that Trish meant the "lap  run".

It was a program that Miss  Simons had created herself to make sure all the
cheerleaders wear physically fit  before letting them on the squad.  Girls
had to run 4 laps in under 6  minutes or they wouldn't be allowed on.  It
was a grueling run.  Many  of the girls cursed Miss Simons for making them do
it. Now she was going to have  to run it herself.
As they walked out of the locker room and onto the field,  Simons was
scared to death that a student or parent would still be around and  see her
dressed like this.  Thank  fully, there weren't any that she could see.
"Ok coach, you remember the rules.  Four laps in 6 minutes or less.  If you
don't make it, then you wont be a  cheerleader." Trish reached under her
coach's skirt and gently caressed her  ass.  "And you really want to be my
little white cheerleader don't ya?"
Blushing, Miss Simons nodded her head.
"THEN  START RUNNING" <SWAT!!!!>
Trish gave a hard slap on the ass and her coach was off  and running.
Miss Simons began running briskly along the track.  As she ran she quickly
realized just how  truly small her uniform was.  With  great effort she held
one hand over her bouncing tits to keep them from falling  out, and used
the other hand to keep her skirt from riding up her hips and  flashing her ass
and pussy.
By the time she had finished one lap she was already  exhausting.  Even her
arms were  getting tired from actively holding down her uniform.

To add to her torment, the  black girls had spread themselves out along the
track and took cheerful delights  in swatting their coach's behind each
time she ran past.
Two laps down.  Now she was having more and more difficulty keeping pace.
She knew she  was really out of shape for this type of running but pushed
forward.
Other things were making it hard on her.  At any moment her breasts
threatened to  pop out and the pain of her sore ass grew with each swat.  But
besides all her problems, she was  still making great time.  Only two  laps left
and she still had 3 ½ minutes left.
During the third lap poor Simons was really getting  winded.  She had to
put her tits  back in the top 3 times already and she was getting tired of
constantly pushing  down her skirt.  By the time she  finished lap 3, there
were only 40 seconds left.
When Trish announced the time, a great panic went threw  the coach.  She so
desperately  wanted to make it.  She wanted so  badly to be Trish's little
white cheerleader.
She dug down deep and found the energy she never knew she  had as she ran
with all her might.  Freeing her mind of all distractions she let go of her
skirt and top and  ran like the wind.  Within moments  both of her big tits
had completely popped out and were flopping around like mad  as her skirt
hiked up to her lower stomach, completely exposing her ass and  pussy.
"25 seconds" Trish yelled.  She was halfway through.  The pain of her
flopping tits and her  exposed crotch were pushed aside as all that mattered was
finishing the  race.
"15 seconds" Almost there.
"10 seconds" Just rounding the last corner"
She could hear all the girls chanting
"8...7...6...5...4...3...2.."
The coach fell over the finish line and collapsed into a  heap of exposed
flesh.  She lay  exhausted on the ground heaving like an animal.  Her large
breasts exposed, rising and  falling with each heavy breath.  Her
cheerleading skirt high above her waist baring her cunt to all her giggling  black
cheerleaders.
Trish stood over her naked, sweaty, former mentor:  "Congratulations Coach,
your on the squad.  See you at practice tomorrow."



Black  Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders Part: Chapter 2

Miss Simons continued to lie on the dirty ground for some  time, struggling
to regain her strength. She had just barely finished the "Lap  Run" and
had remained immobilized for some time, completely forgetting that her  large
breasts and ass where freely exposed to anyone who could just happen to
walk by.
To her luck, nobody did. As the coach look around, she  noticed that the
black cheerleaders who had been tormenting and humiliating her  where nowhere
to be seen. They had left their former coach practically naked in  a
cheerleading skirt alone on the practice field.
Miss Simons could still hear Trish's final words before  leaving:
"Congratulations Coach, your on the squad." This caused a  mixture of
feelings to course through her mind. Every time she recalled the  words, she
felt proud, but also sick.
Why had she submitted so easily to Trish, her  cheerleading squad captain?
Why did  she dress up as a 13 year old cheerleader, running around like an
idiot, breasts  bouncing and flying, exposed ass jiggling, all for the honor
of being Trish's  cheerleader?
Because she wanted to.
Shame filled the coach as she realized how much she  wanted to submit to
the black girls. How she was so willing to make a fool of  herself just so she
wouldn't disappoint Trish.
Trish must have been right after all. White girls where  naturally
submissive to black girls. How else could she explain her desire to be  Trish's "
Little white cheerleader"?
As Miss Simons sat up, evidence of her submission was  painfully obvious as
she watched her tits spill over the tiny top. She didn't  know whether to
cry or laugh at how ridicules she looked.
She did neither.
Instead she got angry. She was the coach damit, she  controlled this squad.
 So what if  she felt the desire to kiss the feet of half the squad? She
had a reputation to  protect, not to mention her self respect as person or
adult.
Quickly making sure there still wasn't anyone around,  Miss Simons finally
rose from the dirty ground, stuffed her breasts into the too  small top, and
lowered her micro skirt below the cheeks of her ass.

She was going to take back  her cheerleading squad tomorrow, natural
dominance or not.
Trish smiled to herself as she allowed her mind to  wonder, remembering the
fool her coach had made of herself not 4 hours ago. It  still amazed the
young black girl at how easy it was, no matter how tough they  thought they
were, white women always seemed to want, even beg to submit to her.
<whack>
"Ugh....23...thank you my Queen!"
She could still remember the day when her mother showed  her all about the
facts of life. It happened as a little girl, when Trish came  home crying
from a bad grade her mean old white teacher gave her.
Furious, her mother confronted the teacher the very next  day after school.
 Before her eyes,  Trish watched as the once snobbish, strict teacher was
reduced to nothing more  than a submissive animal by her mother.
Trish got the first oral sex of her young life that day,  and received an `A
' for the rest of the school year.
Since then, Trish has enjoyed dominating countless white  girls, using them
for her satisfaction. But today, Miss Simons had become the  oldest woman
she had ever attempted to control.
<whack>
"..aaahhh....24....thank you my Queen!"
Yet as her mother had once told her, no matter how young  or old they are,
a white woman will always submit to the power and sexuality of  a black
woman. And it was true. She herself had reduced her proud, strict coach
practically into her very own cheerleader. Trish just couldn't wait until  tomorrow
when she would make good use of Miss Simons.
<whack>
"..ohhhh...ahhhh...25.....thank you my Queen!"
Sitting on her sofa, Trish looked down at the smooth, red  ass bent before
her. She really enjoyed these tension relieving sessions with  Amber. She
really took these whippings well. Hardly ever making a fuss, except  for the
incessant grunting.
If her parents only knew this is what she meant when she  told them "I'm
staying the night at friends place", they'd go nuts. Or at least  her father
would. Her mother would probably take her place right beside  her.
<whack>
"owe owe owe.......26.....thank you my Queen!"

Tomorrow would be a great day  indeed.
Miss Simons hardly slept that night. Just thinking about  confronting Trish
was filling her with anxiety. But it was something she had to  do. This was
her job. She couldn't just give it away to one of her own  cheerleaders.
That afternoon, the coach watched as her girls filed into  the locker room
after school. As the girls began to change, she notice all the  black girls,
and especially Trish eyeing her. Most likely wondering if she was  going to
change into a cheerleading uniform as well.
But she didn't.
When all the girls had finished getting dress, Miss  Simons finally spoke:
"I want all you girls to go out to the field and stretch.  Trish, please
meet me in my office."
As the girls went out to the fields, Trish followed her  coach into the
office with a hint of humor on her face. Seemed her newest toy  was going to
put up a fight after all.
Miss Simons sat in her chair and motioned her captain to  take the seat in
front of the desk.
"But Miss Simons, aren't I the one who should be sitting  in that chair?"
"Trish please, just sit down."
Trish sat.
"Now I am not really sure why I did what I did yesterday,  but I want you
to know that what you saw was not really me. I have no desire to  become a
cheerleader. I have worked for many years to become a well respected
cheerleading coach and I want to make it clear to you that I will be the only  one
coaching this squad. Is that understood?"
The coach held her breath.
"Yes I understand Miss Simons."
Miss Simons blinked several times. Did she just hear  correctly?
"Are you sure you understand Trish?"
"Perfectly. I have no desire to force you to do anything  Miss Simons. If
you want to be the coach of the squad, than that is your choice.  Just like
yesterday, you wanted to be my little white cheerleader. It was your  choice."

"She's right" Miss Simons thought to herself. "It was I  who so willingly
put on the uniform. It was I who ran like a fool to become a  cheerleader."
"So tell me Miss Simons, just so that we are both clear.  Which do you want
to be, a coach or a cheerleader?"
The coach paused. She wasn't sure what to answer. She was  sure she wanted
to be a coach. To be in control of the girls....but.....but it  would be so
wonderful to be a cheerleader to. To jump and twirl like all the  other
girls.
"Miss Simons, I'm waiting. Which do you want to be? My  coach or my
cheerleader?"
"Your....your...c..c...." The blushing, confused coach  lowered her eyes.
"Let me make it simpler for your white girl brain. Do you  want to order me
around, or do you want I to order you around?"
Miss Simons didn't know what to say any more. In the back  of her mind she
knew, but her moist cunt had a different thought all together.  To take
orders from Trish. To dress up like a teenage cheerleader and submit to  a black
girl. Suddenly she felt Trish holding her chin and lifting her head  up.
"Tell me sweaty, what do you want to be?"
Miss Simons whispered "Your cheerleader"!
Miss Simons felt her nipples harden at the admissions.  Trish simply smiled
at her conquest. They always submitted.
"Very well Miss Simons, than perhaps its time we inform  the rest of the
squad of your decision. I'm sure you'll fit right in with the  rest of the
white cheerleaders."
The adult felt her knees suddenly grow weak. She just  couldn't admit it in
front of her white girls. They had always looked up to her,  admired her.
How could she admit  such a thing in front of them?
"Come Miss Simons, on we go."
The former coach couldn't help but obey. Trish was the  coach now. She was
the one giving commands. She sheepishly followed the black  girl out of the
locker room and into the open field. The sun still high above as  she meekly
followed behind the young girl. Her eyes quickly finding the backs of  Trish
's strong dark calves.
Within moments, the two females arrived at the group of  stretching girls.
The black girls  seemingly knowing what to expect. The white girls with the
look of beautiful  innocence.
"Listen every one. There are going to be a few small  changes here. It
seems to me that our coach wants to change something. Go ahead  Miss Simons,
tell the girls what you want to change."
Everyone was looking at Miss Simons, her face blushing  deeply, her eyes
downcast.
"I....I want to.....be a....cheerleader!"
All the black girls roared up in laughter while the white  girls inhaled in
shock.
"What did you say coach?"
With a small tear of humiliation "I want to be a  cheerleader!"
"But Miss Simons, wont that be just so silly, running  around, jumping like
a little teenage girl?"
Miss Simons shook her head yes.
But who would replace you as head coach? Who would you  want to coach you?
"Miss Simons, practically crying announced to the crowd  "Trish....I want
Trish to be the head coach!"
The coach finally looked at the faces of her white  cheerleaders. They
looked upset, betrayed.
"Very well Miss Simons, I accept. But to be a  cheerleader, you need the
proper uniform. Strip!"
Miss Simons froze. Did Trish just tell her to get naked  here? In front of
all her girls? Looking around, she noticed the school football  team
practicing as well, off in the distance. She would die if they say her,  naked.
Miss Simons looked pleadingly into her new coaches eyes.
"Come on young lady, we are all waiting."
In complete fear, Miss Simons began raising her sweater  above her head.
The black girls  giggling as the former coach's bra became visible. Next she
removed her shoes,  followed be her sweat pants. The blushing adult stood
now before all her former  cheerleaders, in just a bra and panties.
"Miss Simons you must hurry, before there is no more time  left to practice.
"
With a audible sigh, she reached behind her back and  unclasped her bra,
letting it fall to the floor, exposing her large breasts.  Then she hooked her
thumbs into her panties and pushed down them down as well,  feeling the
cools breeze flow between her moist inner legs.
Now the humiliated coach stood completely naked before  her girls. She just
prayed that the young boys at the football field were too  busy hitting
each other to notice a fully nude adult on the other side. In a  feeble
attempt, she covered her breasts and vagina with her hands.
"Very good Miss Simons. Now to get you a uniform. Katty,  you and the coach
seem to have matching dress sizes. Why don't you be a good  sport and let
Miss Simons try it on."
The young girl trembled at the words. She didn't want to  remove her cloths
out here. But her mind was made up for her as one of the black  girls moved
behind her and lifted her top off, revealing her pert little  breasts.
Quickly she covered her  chest as well. Next went down her skirt, leaving the
14 year old teen in nothing  but her panties and sneakers.
Within moments, Miss Simons found herself once again  fitting her curvy
body into the tight cheerleading outfit.
"Good girl, you look like the perfect white cheerleader.  Ok Katty, now you
can gather up Miss Simons' and your cloths and take them back  to the
locker room. Oh and by the way, since Miss Simons will be taking your  spot on
the squad, your no longer needed, so goodbye."
The poor girl's eyes watered as she looked at her fellow  cheerleaders for
support, but none was given. Then she flashed an angry look at  Miss Simons
before running off, crying. Her cute little panty covered butt  shaking
behind her.
The rest of the afternoon Miss Simons practiced with the  team just like
she was a regular teenage cheerleader. Trish made sure of that.  Despite not
wearing any panties, she almost forgot about her humiliating  appearance
while doing routines she hadn't done in years. Even some of the white  girls
were starting to giggle at her.
By the end of practice, Miss Simons was tired and sweaty.  All she wanted
to do was shower and go home. As the squad entered the locker  room, the
girls began undressing and heading off towards the showers. Miss  Simons felt
very uneasy getting undressed with her girls, but one look from  Trish had her
nude in no time.
As she began walking towards the showers, the former  coach suddenly felt a
slight tug on her hand from behind. Turning around, Miss  Simons noticed it
was Sasha. Sasha was the black "friend" of Katty last time she  had
looked. Now the young girl was looking at her expectantly.
"Yes Sasha?" The coach tentatively ask.
"You can wash me today Miss Simons"
"Excuse me?"
"Since you caused Katty to get kicked off the squad, you  can take her
place. Now come on, I need to get cleaned. My daddy is waiting to  pick me up."
Sasha took her by the hand and led the dazed coach into  the showers, where
they joined the rest of the girls. Quickly Miss Simons was  reminded of
what was now expected of her. She watched as each white girl  delicately began
lathering and washing their fellow black  cheerleader.
A quick slap to her inner thigh brought the coach's  attention back to the
little girl before her.
"Miss Simons get to work."
Lowering herself to her knees, Miss Simons took the bar  of soap next to
her and, under the warm spray of the shower, slowly began  washing Sasha feet.
Soon she was up to her knees, then her lower thighs, and  then to her upper
thighs. As she neared the young girls vagina, she became very  unsure of
herself. "Was she suppose to actually clean Sasha's cunt?" she  wondered.
Looking around to see what some of the other white girls  were doing, she
quickly caught the sight of Amber washing Trish. Oh what a sight  those two
made. The beautiful, athletic white body of Amber kneeling before the
equally impressive black body of Trish was amazing to the coach. Oh how she
wished she could take Amber's place before Trish, washing her gorgeous  body.
But something Amber was doing broke the temporary spell  Miss Simons was
having. The coach watched as Amber was delicately washing the  inner folds of
Trish's pussy lips. With her head in close between Trish's legs,  Amber was
thoroughly cleaning the black girls cunt while Trish simple stood with  her
legs slightly apart with a look of complete uninterested of the white girl
beneath her.
Miss Simons felt her cunt pulse at the sight, momentarily  before feeling
both her nipples being cruelly twisted.
Quickly Miss Simons resumed her attention to the young  girl before her.
But this time, she  found herself staring directly at Sasha's puffy black
pussy.
"Its ok Miss Simons, you can touch it if you want  to."
Miss Simons looked up in surprise at the young  girl.
"Doesn't my pussy look pretty?"
The coach couldn't help but nod her head, it did look  nice. Hardly any
hair covering the cute little thing.
"Don't worry, I wont tell my daddy."
Miss Simons remained staring at the girl's pussy, hardly  able to breath.
This was going  somewhere terribly wrong. She should not be staring at this
girl like that. Not  to a teenager whose daddy was expecting to pick her up
any moment.
Sasha began moving forward, catching the coach slightly  off guard.  Before
she knew it,  Sasha's cunt was only an inch in front of her face. By now
Miss Simons was  breathing. In fact, she was breathing heavily.  However she
remained kneeling, frozen  with growing confusion and arousal.
Again Sasha slowly moved forward, until the tips of the  folds were lightly
touching her coach's nose. Again she paused, seemingly daring  the adult to
stop it, or even take it to the next step. But Miss Simons did  neither.
She simply knelt there passively, allowing the young teen to  practically
straddle her face.
Now Sasha began brushing up against the woman's nose,  teasing it, pushing
it ever so slightly further into the dark pink lips, nudging  it in deeper.
"Miss Simons, get that face out of Sasha's vagina this  instant!" Yelled
Trish, surprising the coach and causing her to quickly pull her  head out
from between the black girl's legs.
"Miss Simons, this is not one of your white lesbian whore  house's. I will
not be having any of my cheerleaders engaging in this sort of  nonsense at
school. Is that understood?"
Miss Simons lowered her eyes and shook her head. Her face  red with
embarrassment at being told not to lick another girl's vagina. She felt  like a
little girl who had just been caught experimenting with another female  friend
and told she was a very bad girl.
Over the next ten minutes Miss Simons continued to wash a  clearly
frustrated Sasha. The coach avoided making much contact with the girl's  cunt or
even her budding breasts as she washed the rest of her body.
When they were done, she followed Sasha out of the  showers, and to the
table where the towels were waiting. As Miss Simons reached  out to grab one
for herself, she felt a sharp slap to her butt as Sasha scolded  her.
"No no no, you silly girl. You have to wait for me to  finish."
Naked, and dripping wet, Miss Simons watched as Sasha  dried and covered
herself with two towels and followed her back to the benches  were several
other naked and wet cheerleaders were sitting on the floor waiting  as well.
Miss Simons joined them on the floor and patiently waited for Sasha to
finished drying up and getting dressed.
As she sat there amongst the other white girls, she  observed them chatting
away just like normal, as if nothing were out of the  ordinary. The fact
that they sitting their wet naked butts on the dusty floor,  with their
breasts swaying free did not seem to bother them as they  waited.

Finally when Sasha was  finished, she absent mindedly threw her wet towel
at the shivering woman.  Grateful, Miss Simons took the towels and made the
best with  them.
Over the course of the week, Trish very quickly fell into  the role of
coach, working the girls hard and making sure they did exactly as  they were
suppose to do. Trish was especially hard on Miss Simons. She was  constantly
criticizing her in front of the girls, berating her for being out of  shape,
being slightly over weight, even that her tits were too big.
By the end of each practice, Miss Simons was thoroughly  exhausted,
mentally and physically. But as if it were part of her daily routine,  she'd always
follow little Sasha into the showers.
Sasha would constantly try to get her former coach to  touch her cunt, but
Miss Simons just couldn't.......no matter how much she may  have wanted to.
Her morals were just strong enough to resist this young girl's  advances,
for now.
But the real focus of Miss Simons' attention was on Trish  and Amber.
Every day she'd watch  the former head cheerleader perform her duties
flawlessly, washing and cleaning  every inch of the black Goddess. They looked just so
sensual that Miss Simons  wished she could take a picture and frame it. But
what she really wanted more  was for her to be the one serving Trish.
Wasn't it enough that Trish had taken her coaching job  and made her into
an over grown cheerleader? Now she was relegating her to  serving the
youngest of the black girls as well.
Where would this humiliation end?
Fortunately for Miss Simons their wouldn't be another  home game for a
week. She just prayed that no parents would come visit during  any of the
practices.
It also didn't take too long for Trish to re-instate the  no panties rule
on all the white cheerleaders. Pretty soon there was quite of  bit of pink
flesh being flashed around between jumping white legs.
Miss Simons actually felt glad that she wasn't the only  girl being put on
display during jumping cheers, even though her bouncing tits  were the only
one's constantly threatening to pop out at any moment. She just  didn't
know how she would contain them in her top on game day.
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 humiliation 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 reason, 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 mother 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, mother 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 mother'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 40ish woman gingerly walked from  person to
person, 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  mother."
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 mother would know about her submission. The mother  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  daughter?"
"No she hasn't mother. 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
mother 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 mother 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  person. But what are you really Jen?"
"A white cow Miss Brown. I am your white cow."
The mother smiled at the words of submission 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  daughter 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 mother 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 person.
The third button was released and Miss Brown stepped  back. "Come on, show
me what my daughter 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 personal 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 mother."
"Thanks mom. Now Miss Simons, how do you thank my mother  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.



Black  Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders Part: Chapter 3

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 humiliation 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 persona.
"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 person. 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 orderly 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.
"Orderly sir?"
"Don't mind if I do."
As she held it out to him, instead of taking one of the _hor derves_
(http://aolsearcht5.search.aol.com/aol/weboffers?s_it=wo_more&q=hor+derves&o_q=hor+
derves&v_t=na) , he reached under her skirt and actually began grouping
her left inner thigh.
She instantly jerked back, causing the remaining _hor derves_
(http://aolsearcht5.search.aol.com/aol/weboffers?s_it=wo_more&q=hor+derves&o_q=hor+derves&
v_t=na)  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 reason 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  bullshit 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 reason 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 daughter 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 mother 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 queue, 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.
Fortunately the woman holding her leash, Orlanda, was the one  interviewing
her for one such job. Not long after her fiancé 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  submission. Of how she
wisely choose to leave her fiancé and volunteer full time  for her new
position. A position of submission 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 daughter'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 daughter, 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 daughter 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 mother 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 humiliation 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 intoxicated at
watching the pure humiliation 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 torture 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 sleep. But what about  Samantha? Would
she be getting a good night sleep 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 asleep after what she just went through? How could she  sleep
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
killing 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 clitty 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. Hers 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 forced herself into a  fitful sleep.
Tomorrow was another day, and she'd start from there.  Unfortunately for her,
with sleep come dreams. Often vivid, nightmarish dreams  of days past.



Black  Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders Part: Chapter 4

Monday morning Jessica arrived at school early. She  hadn't had a good
nights sleep 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  stumbled 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 submission 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 children. 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 submission. 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 person 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
person. 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 shit 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 puni
shed. 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 reasoned 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.
...<SLAP>...
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 reason 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  child, watching
her own mother humble a former teacher.
That day she was shocked to hear her mother talk the way  she did to her
white teacher. Trish had even expected the teacher to punish both  mother and
daughter for daring to disrespect her. But it was mommy doing the  punishing
that day with the teacher's own paddle, and daughter 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 murder 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 hers
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 mother 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........<SLAP>
"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 father coming in  to look for his daughter, 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  prison.
"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 reasons. 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 hor derves 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 humiliation 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!



Black  Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders Chapter 5

"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 instru
cted 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 daughter, 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 mother. 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 mother, 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
daughter'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 mother, I'll try to be  ready...<SLAP>....Oweeee....um....I've got to
go mother!"
"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 daughter. 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 daughter, that they always offered to bring her
home personally.
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
daughter had given her. As she  drove, Cindy couldn't shake away how unusual her
daughter sounded, and even  regretful at having to ask her mother to pick her
up.
Mrs. Lowenstien knew very little about this new friend of  her daughter'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 daughter'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  daughter.
Never the less, both girls seemed to really be hitting it  off. It wasn't
long before her daughter was seemingly spending all her free time  with this
girl. So overall Cindy was actually happy her daughter 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 daughter'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 mother 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  daughter 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
person'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 daughter 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 daughter."
"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 daughter?"
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 daughter 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 daughter Amber.
Not waiting another second, she turned the handle and  burst through the
door. What she saw drained all the blood from her  face.
Hanging from the ceiling, naked, with a tear strained  face was her
precious teenage daughter Amber. Cindy almost fell to her knees as  she saw her
dear daughter 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 daughter, 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 daughter'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 daughter so that we may get  properly introduced."

Cindy blinked several times. The words not registering at  all in the
confused mother'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 personal cheerleader slut.
"Ahhh....56...thank you my Queen!"
Cindy had flinched when she heard the odd phrase spoken  by her daughter. "
My Queen?"
Trish looked coolly at the distressed mother. "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 mother, 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 daughter's words. This is not  how she raised
her daughter. 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 daughter, not my baby."
"Yes your daughter, 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 mother's eyes as she listened to her  daughter'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 daughter 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 abuse of her teen  daughter. 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
daughter'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 mother
closer to me."
Mrs. Lowenstien watched as her daughter 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 mother'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 mother'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  daughter'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 force
inside her.
Her breathing became faster and more heavy with each  moment passing.  Her
daughter'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 daughter 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
mother'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 daughter."
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 mother'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
daughter to grab hold of the top of her dress, and slowly began  lowering it.
Mrs. Lowenstein'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 daughter 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.  Lowenstein 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 mother 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. Lowenstein, 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. Lowenstein, you white females must really  learn your place."
 Trish gave the trembling white mother's clit a light flick  with the crop,
making her knees slightly buckle.
"Just look at your daughter here, she resisted at first,  but now she's
become the perfect white subby bitch, aren't you  princes?"
With half closed eyes Mrs. Lowenstein heard her  daughter's reply "Yes my
Queen, I am your white subby bitch."
"You see? I own your prissy daughter. Her white ass now  belongs to me.
Isn't that lovely?"
"YESSSSS" The reply managed to shock to tormented mother.  Did she not
care for her daughter anymore? Did she really find it "Lovely" that  her
aspiring young daughter 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, motherly  curves.
Mrs. Lowenstein 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
daughter'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 mother is paying proper  attention. Go and play
with her horny nipples for her."
Cindy immediately started feeling regretful as she  watched her daughter
rise and walk in front of her. No! She didn't want it to be  her daughter
hurting her. Not her little princess.
<WHACK> As Trish connected another painful sting to  the rich mother's pale
cheeks, Amber reached up and wrapped her fingers around  her mother's rock
hard nipples. Both mother and daughter 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 mother was powerless to stop the  attack while her
daughter relentlessly pinched and twisted her mother's poor  nipples. The
whole time, neither women looked away from each other's  eyes.
<WHACK>
"So Mrs. Lowenstein, 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 Lowenstein  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
daughter still abusing 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  mother'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. Lowenstein'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
mother'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. Lowenstein 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 daughter'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 son playing in the game?"
"Well no actually, I'm here to watch my daughter. She's  one of the
cheerleaders."
"Oh really? What's her name?"
"Amber"
"Amber! Wow, you really have a beautiful daughter. 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 reason 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 mother'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  daughter'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 daughter'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 mother 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 daughter 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
assembled 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 reason 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
daughter 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, mother of an aspiring young daughter.
And on the outside none of that had changed. She was  still well respected,
still envied of her marriage, and still had a beautiful  daughter.  But on
the inside, so  much had change in such a short period of time.  She had
witnessed first hand her  daughter'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 mother  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  reason.
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 daughter 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 grimaced 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 long fully 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 smiled 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 blood 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 passed out 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 abused
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 father 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 body 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!



"  Black Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders " Part 6

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 forced 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 forcing 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
 submission 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
<giggles>!"
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 passed out on her mattress to dreams of
black and white cheerleaders and vengeful domineering arch rivals.
<SLAP!> "Ohhhh...twelve Miss Brandy..."
<SLAP!> "Ahhhh...thirteen Miss  Brandy..."
<SLAP!> "uhhhh...fourteen Miss  Brandy..."
<SLAP!> "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.
<SLAP!> "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.
<SLAP!> "Ohhhhh...twenty four Miss  Brandy..."
<SLAP!> "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 person 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 cheek
s, Mrs. Clark began to quickly dress in silence. Jessica watching  with
patience.
Miss Simons was surprised however to see the skimpiest  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 lesson
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 lesson 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.  "<SNIFF> 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
humiliation more and more. Early on she tired of seeing Simons  constantly
having to catch her tits from popping out, and so got great thrills  forcing 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 forced 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 submission, 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 forced her to
cheer topless. Yet  Jessica simply couldn't understand who or why someone
would be watching a simple  high school 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 child's entertainment.  Unfortunately before
the horny middle  aged woman could cum for her black vixen, Sasha's mother
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" and
"Goodbyes" to the naive mother,  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
personally 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 mother.
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 forcing 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 forced 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 daughter to the former Matriarch of the house was
immediately greeted  by the sight of her mother 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 mother!"
Mrs. Lowenstien looked up and smiled from the floor at  her daughter, 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  mother's
subservience so openly, but the look on her mother's face was simply  too priceless.
Mrs. Lowenstien had always preached success, good breading, and  superiority
to her budding daughter when she was growing up. But her classy  mother was
having a tough time preaching to her now.
Her mother instantly lowered her head in shame at her  daughter'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 mother, 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 daughter
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 mother scurrying out  the back
door with a tray holding one freshly made iced tea.
In another moment the white teen followed her mother 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 mother 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 mother'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 daughter has quite the body Cindy. You must be very  proud?"
Amber could hear her mother'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 mother 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 mother'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 mother. 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 mother, 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 mother to come pick her up on that  fateful day, she
wanted nothing more than to scream out and warn her  mother.  But she couldn'
t betray her  Mistress. Trish had become her life, her reason for
breathing. Even more so than  her own mother. Never the less she still held out hope
that her mother 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 daughter.
"How does it feel Cindy, to know that it was your own  daughter 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
mother'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 mother'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  daughter.
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 <lick> put them back!  <lick> I need them
<lick> inside me! Please Mistress!
<lick>  <lick>"
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 daughter.  "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 mother.
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 sleep. 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 reason, 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 mother,  eager to get her
former maid's black fingers under her skirt once more. Amber  could hear her
mother 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 mother'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  mother 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 mother'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
mother'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 daughter  a rub down! What kind of a mother 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 mother suspected it as well,  hovering just a
few inches above her Mistress's thighs as she looked over at her  daughter
with great worry.
Slowly she began crawling on her knees towards her  daughter, 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 mother's eyes and could see the  fear. She was
actually afraid of her daughter. 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 mother's oily  hands.
In a daze, Cindy began rubbing her daughter'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 daughter'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 daughter as a child
 in her arms, singing her nursery rhymes and rocking her to sleep.
The flashes vanished the moment she felt the black hand  touch her sex from
behind. As Cindy rubbed and squeezed her daughter'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
daughters taught stomach, past her round hips, and to her gorgeous  athletic
thighs. The skin so firm and muscular from cheering as the mother  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 daughter's spreading legs,  inviting the
dazed mother to rub her inner thighs with the slippery oil.  Mrs. Lowenstien eye'
s opened when she  felt her daughter's hand on the back of her head. The
sight that greeted her was  of the puffy pussy lips of her daughter, 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 daughter'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 daughter'
s potent musk. Her eyes clearing momentarily to focus on  the pussy just in
front of her. Panic filled the mother 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 daughter.
"Lick away mother, 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
daughter 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 daughter pulled the thin bikini to the  side,
completely exposing her shaved pussy to her mother. 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 mother 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 mother'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 mother my bitch, I  promised I would
protect it when you were here. And that includes keeping it  from your horny
incestual 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 mother and
daughter. 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 blood 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 mother 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 mother and Lola still by the pool. Not
surprisingly,  Lola's bikini bottoms were off and put over Cindy's head as her mother
lapped  away at the black cunt.  Yes indeed  she had grown up to be just
like her mother. 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  scattering 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  forcing
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 14, 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 mother 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  mother,
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 daughter'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
mother 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 mothers open mouthed face.
"Lola, my mother. 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 daughter, 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  daughter 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 mother 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 mother 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 mother'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.

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