Black Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders Part 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_, he reached under her skirt and actually began grouping her left inner thigh.
She instantly jerked back, causing the remaining _hor derves_
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 fiance was very sad to learn about
the new position she'd accepted, "Party Toy". Turns out she always had a
desire to serve black women and never knew it."
Trish continued to tell the story of Samantha's submission. Of how she
wisely choose to leave her fiance 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.