CAUTION : This story is not politically correct. It includes the humiliation and degradation of willing and maybe not so willing black women. The "n" word is used liberally.

Latessa's New Position

by Neal

Chapter 0 - Prologue

Tom Davis stood nervously outside his boss's office, waiting for him to get off the phone. The tall black man had recently turned forty. Except for his receding hair line, the years hadn't caught up with him yet. Despite having been repairing office equipment for Mr. Andrews for almost ten years, he hadn't had too many occasions to speak with him.

Finally, the older man waved him into the office, looking up at him as he wrapped up his conversation. Jack Andrews was youthful looking for fifty with steel blue eyes and salt and pepper hair.

"So, Tom, what can I do for you?" he asked after hanging up the phone.

"Well, Mr. Andrews," said Tom, "I was hopin' there was some way I could get some extra hours. I could sure use the money."

"There really aren't extra hours to have," answered Jack. "I'm sorry, but we're limited by our clients' needs. If we take any more on, that may change. Sorry I can't help you out."

"It's just that my wife was one of the managers at Genron, that company that had all the layoffs," Tom explained. "She and the twenty some odd folks that reported to her all got it. Even her boss got laid off. She got a job at the 7-11, but that's just minimum wage. We got to do somethin' 'cause our daughter's goin' to college next year."

"I don't know what to say, buddy," sighed his boss. "I can't give you hours I don't have." He pondered a moment, "well, there is another way I might be able to help. I might be able to give your wife better work than she's got now."

"I didn't know we were hiring." Tom replied, having already started checking the company bulletin board for jobs that his wife, Latessa, would be suited for.

"No, it's not here at the company," Jack responded. "It's at my house. See, my wife has her hands full, what with two teenagers and a big house. We actually had a couple of girls to help her out. The morning girl turned up in a family way, if you know what I mean, and had to stop working for us. Cooking breakfast and lunch, making beds, doing laundry, and other light housework."

"A maid?" asked Tom, his eyebrows raised.

Latessa would not be happy about this, he thought.

"I'm just brainstorming here, Tom," replied Jack. "The 7-11 pays minimum wage. The maid job pays six hundred dollars a week. It's got to be better than selling cigarettes and lotto tickets. But, whatever. Bounce it off the little woman and let me know if she's interested. But, either way, I'll keep an ear to the ground for her. A woman who managed a big department like that shouldn't be making slushies at the 7-11. Something's bound to turn up."

"Thanks, sir," replied Tom. "I appreciate it. And I'll let you know."

* * *

Latessa Davis was a fine looking black woman who looked much younger than her thirty nine years. Beautiful dark skin, soft brown eyes, and thick full lips. Her long straightened hair reached her shoulders. That night after supper, it was she who broached the subject.

"So, Tommy," she asked, "How did it go with the boss? Are you gonna be able to get some more hours?"

"Uh, no," he replied, getting up his nerve. "But he did have somethin'. But it wasn't for me. It was for you."

"Me?" she asked. "I thought you said there weren't any jobs there."

"It's not at the company," he explained. "It's at Mr. Andrews' place. His wife needs some... uh... domestic help."

"What!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "That's what you got for me? A fuckin' maid job! The fuck I'm gonna go clean up some white family's messes!"

"It's six hundred dollars a week," he replied. "Look, I just told him I'd tell you about it and now I did. I'm only thinkin' of Darlene. Even with the scholarship we got to have more money. Losin' your manager pay hurt us bad."

"Oh, Tommy," she sighed. "A fuckin' maid. Is that what it's come to?"

"I'm sorry, baby," he reassured her. "It's only temporary. Things'll pick up and somethin' better's bound to come up. Plus, this is better than some convenience store job. I'm always afraid for you there. The place has been held up before! At least we wouldn't have to worry about that with you up at Mr. Andrews' place."

"All right, I guess it can't hurt to at least go talk to them." Latessa seemed resigned to suffering indignities like this since losing her well paying job.

* * *

Tom told Jack the next morning that Latessa was willing to come to his house and talk to him and his wife to see if she'd be interested in the job. They made arrangements for eight o'clock that evening.

* * *

The Andrews place was in a suburban neighborhood where the houses were far apart and for the most part couldn't be seen from the street. Tom pushed the button on the speaker box at the gate and announced he and Latessa's arrival. They were buzzed in and drove through. He parked the car at the end of the Andrews's long driveway and looked over at his wife.

Latessa was still upset about the situation. But she had calmed down with the time she'd had to think about it, along with another shift at the 7-11. Sweeping the floor there and cleaning burnt nacho cheese out of the microwave oven. The maid job started to look good by comparison.

A big black woman in a full maid uniform answered the door when they rang the bell. She was in her early thirties with a dark complexion and pronounced African features, with an especially broad nose and thick lips. And her uniform wasn't one of the silly French maid outfits seen in girlie magazines. Instead, it was a charcoal colored work dress that reached her knees with a white apron tied around her waist. She even sported a white maid's cap in her short curly hair.

"Dey be expectin' you," she said plainly and stepped back allowing the black couple to enter.

She led them across the flagstone entry way into the thickly carpeted living room. The room was quite large, one entire wall was made of panels of glass that looked out onto a patio with a large grassy yard beyond it. Mr. and Mrs. Andrews sat on the couch and watched them come into the room.

Mrs. Andrews appeared to be much younger than Tom and Latessa, certainly no older that thirty. Blue eyes and blonde hair down to her shoulders, Cindy Andrews was the picture of a suburban woman of leisure. She was the daughter of a prominent state senator for the district and niece of a county court judge. Her connections had helped Jack's business prosper and made both of them very wealthy.

Jack stood and offered Tom and then Latessa his hand.

"Glad you made it," he said as he shook hands with them both, keeping his eyes on the black woman. "Hope you didn't have any trouble finding the place."

"No, no trouble at all," Tom replied, taking in the luxurious surroundings.

He also couldn't help admiring Cindy and the way she looked at him. There was an aloofness as well as something cold and calculating about the look on the white woman's face. And something about that stirred a strange sensation inside the black man.

"You may go, Bertha," said Jack to the black maid.

"Thank you, suh," she replied and left the room.

"This is Tom and...." he stopped, having forgotten Tom's wife's name as he introduced the black couple to his wife.

"Latessa," said Latessa, slightly offended at his not knowing her name.

"Yes, Latessa!" exclaimed Jack. "That's right. Sorry about that."

He turned to the Davises, "And this is my wife Mrs. Andrews."

"Pleased to meet you," she said, smiling and remaining seated.

Latessa was a little taken aback at his introducing them by their first names, while only using his wife's surname. Another indignity, she thought. He hadn't even offered them a seat!

Tom on the other hand barely noticed it. Instead he was oddly intrigued by Cindy's behavior. He'd noticed that kind of feeling before in his dealings with white women on the job. The way a receptionist would look at him when he arrived on a service call. How a secretary would speak to him while he repaired a photocopier. It was never as blatant, or as powerful, as what he felt from Cindy. And a quick glance into her blue eyes gave him the strange notion that she could sense it in him. He quickly looked away.

"Anyways," continued Jack, "Latessa is interested in the morning girl's job."

"I see," said Cindy. "Have you ever done domestic work before?"

"I've kept house for almost twenty years and raised a teenage daughter," she replied, trying to suppress her indignation.

Twenty people had reported to her, thought Latessa. Most of them were white! And here this rich white woman who had probably never worked a day in her life was asking her about her maid experience! It was all Latessa could do to keep from slapping her and walking out. But she thought of cleaning out the dirty toilets at the 7-11 and kept her composure.

"Well," laughed the white woman, "I'm sure that qualifies you. The morning girl starts at five thirty. She prepares breakfast for the family. Our boy and girl are in high school, Bobby and Megan are eighteen, they're twins. They need breakfast at seven so they can get to school. Mr. Andrews and I take our breakfast at eight thirty."

"Then it's time to make the beds and get the laundry together," she continued. "Some vacuuming up where it needs it and then get our lunch together and take care of the dishes afterwards. By one thirty you're all done and that's all there is to it. See, it's not difficult. And a sight better than that disgusting store you work at now."

Latessa wasn't sure how much of this white woman she was going to be able to take. But the store was disgusting. Neither were easy to take and this paid better. If she truly hated it, she always go back to the 7-11 or somewhere like it. Jobs like that were always available.

Tom looked at his wife and admired her restraint in the face this less than respectful treatment, while he, meanwhile, had mixed feelings about it himself. Jack and Cindy looked at her, too, waiting for her reaction.

"I suppose I can give it a try," Latessa finally said.

What the fuck, she thought.

"Excellent!" said Cindy. "I don't think Gladys's outfit will fit you, so you'll need to get a proper uniform. Something like Bertha's will be fine. When can you start? I suppose you want to give your present employer some kind of notice."

The white woman's nose wrinkled as she mentioned the convenience store.

"No," said Latessa. "I can start day after tomorrow."

Those chumps at the 7-11 didn't need any notice. They'd be lucky if she did anything other than simply not show up anymore.

"Wonderful!" said Cindy. "I'll have Bertha show you around the kitchen and give you a key to the back door so you can let yourself in your first day. We won't be up yet at that ungodly hour."

Cindy picked up a small brass colored bell with a black handle and rang it. Bertha walked into the room a few seconds later.

"Yes, ma'am?" she asked the lady of the house.

"Latessa will be taking over for Gladys," Cindy instructed. "Show her what she needs to see to start the day after tomorrow. And give her a key."

"Yes, ma'am," replied the negro servant.

Latessa went with Bertha back out of the living room and across the flagstone entry way. They walked through a large formal dining room and through a swinging door to the kitchen. It was quite large and well outfitted. In the back of the room was a door to the outside.

"Here's yo' key," said Bertha, taking a key off a hook inside a cabinet door. "Don' lose it. An' only use dis door. Miz Cindy don' like us usin' da front door."

"Dem chillun o' ders don't want no fancy breakfast," continued the big black maid. "Dey jus' git cereal, milk, an' juice. Miz Cindy'll put a note up over here to say what she an' Massa Jack be havin'."

Latessa thought she wasn't hearing right. "Excuse me, Bertha. I didn't hear right. What did you just say?"

"I say Miz Cindy be puttin' up a note about what to be makin' fo' breakfast," she replied with an odd look on her face.

"No," explained Latessa, "after that. Did you say Massa Jack?"

"Dat's right," said Bertha patiently. "Massa Jack. Dat his name. Ain't you know dat?"

"Ok. Massa Jack." Latessa was starting to have second thoughts about this job. It was starting to feel strange.

"Dat's right, Latessa," explained the colored maid. "You gots to talk respectful like to dese white folks. Dey like to be hearin' 'yes, suh,' an' 'no, ma'am.' You call him Massa Jack an' da lady Miz Cindy. Massa Bobby an' Miz Megan, too."

"Now, I be comin' in early, nine o'clock, an' show you what you need to be doin' after breakfast," she continued. "Where the bedrooms and laundry room is at so you kin git to it."

"One more thing, Bertha," asked Latessa. "How does that woman have children so old?"

"She ain't dere natural mama," replied the young negress. "An' she ain't da first Mrs. Andrews neither."

Mentally, Latessa had already blown off the 7-11. This, too, she would just have to get used to or she'd be back to sweeping scratch tickets off the sidewalk. She'd suck it up. For Darlene.

Back in car, heading out the drive way, Latessa turned to her husband.

"Tommy, those white folks ain't right," she told him. "That girl told me some shit about talkin' to them like we was on the plantation, not in the suburbs. But I'll try, because I know how important it is."

"That's all I ask, baby," he replied. "Somethin's bound to turn up before long. Just got to tough it out for little while." Still, the image of the way Cindy had looked at him haunted the black man as he steered the car down the road towards home.

* * *

The uniform shop proved to be another humiliation for Latessa. She found it was nothing like the trendy shops at the mall where she used to shop for her professional attire. Bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling and a grubby linoleum floor greeted her as she walked in the door. No posed mannequins, no colorful posters. Just racks of clothes for nurses, waitresses, and of course, maids.

The clerk, a young teenaged white girl with green dyed hair, popped her gum while reading a magazine when Latessa was ready to check out. Glaring at the black woman for the interruption, she removed her headphones.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"I need to buy these," Latessa said, placing three identical charcoal colored work dresses on the counter. "Do you take American Express?"

"You've got American Express?" the white girl snickered. "No. Visa or Master Card. That's it, lady. And I'll need a picture ID."

Her face flushed as she fumbled in her purse to get a different card and handed it over. No, she thought, this isn't how they treated her at the mall.

* * *

Darlene found Latessa standing in front of the full length mirror on the back of her bedroom door. She was wearing her newly purchased maid's uniform. The teenager could tell her mother had been crying. Her daughter looked like a younger version of herself and even wore her hair in the same long straightened style.

"What are you wearing, Mama?" she asked. "What are you dressed up like a maid for?"

"Well, baby girl," sighed Latessa, "your mama has got to do some unpleasant things sometimes. It's part of being grown up. Just for a little while I'm gonna be workin' up to your daddy's boss's house. As a maid. It pays better than what I got at the 7-11. It's hard to say which is more demeanin'"

She stood and stared into the mirror. The black maid looked back.

Chapter 1 - Her First Day

Tom and Latessa left their house at five on the morning of her first day at the Andrews'. It was still dark. The interior of the car was dimly lit by the dashboard lights. Tom turned to his wife.

"You know the car payment check and the rent check bounced?" he said. "It's a good thing we found this work for you. Your other job just wasn't enough."

Latessa said nothing. Her stomach in a knot, she had a sense of impending doom.

It was just getting light when they pulled up to the Andrews' house. Tom kissed his wife and she got out and watched his tail lights disappear down the long driveway. Dressed in her maid's uniform, she got out the key and let herself in the back door.

She looked around the kitchen and found the cabinet where the cereal was. Latessa put it on the table along with bowls and spoons. She'd leave the rest in the fridge until Megan and Bobby came down for breakfast. Alone with her thoughts, she wondered what she'd gotten herself into.

A month earlier she'd just be getting up now, picking out which of her expensive business suits she was going to wear, and starting to think about the day's schedule of meetings, presentations, and reviews of her subordinates. Today she sat in someone else's kitchen wearing a maid's uniform waiting for their kids to come down so that she could serve them breakfast.

A little before seven, Bobby came down. He looked a lot like his father must have when he was sixteen. Same steel blue eyes, but a full head of dark brown hair.

"Hi," he said. "You must be the new maid. You're kind of pretty. What's your name?"

More indignities, thought Latessa.

"My name is Latessa," she replied. "I've got your cereal out. I'll get the milk and orange juice now."

"Hey," he complained. "Aren't you supposed to say sir to me?"

She felt her cheeks flush. Yes, she remembered, she was supposed to say sir to this snot nosed white boy.

"I'm sorry, sir. I forgot," she said, chagrined.

She brought the items from the fridge and placed them on the table.

"Well, ok," he allowed. "It is your first day."

Megan came in. Green eyes and bleach blonde hair. Too much make-up for an eighteen year old. Latessa was surprised they let her out of the house like that.

"Why isn't my cereal poured, girl?" she scolded the black woman. "It's supposed to be ready at seven."

"Sorry, ma'am," said Latessa, once again fighting to control her temper.

Latessa poured the cereal for the white teenager, her face hot with a mixture of anger and shame. Girl? She was old enough to be this girl's momma. What kind of people raised a child to be so disrespectful, she wondered, even of a maid.

Bobby finished his breakfast and went out of the kitchen. Megan left without eating, leaving the untouched cereal in the bowl on the table. Latessa cleared it all away.

With the children gone, Latessa could concentrate on the breakfast for the man and woman of the house. French toast was on the list stuck on the refrigerator door. She prepared it so it would be ready at eight thirty as she had been instructed.

It was almost nine when Cindy walked into the kitchen.

"Ah..., the smell of breakfast cooking," the diminutive white woman said. "It's such a pleasure to wake up to. Bring me some coffee like a good girl."

"The coffee's ready, ma'am," replied Latessa. "I've already got the cups out on counter for you."

Cindy proceeded to walk right past the coffee maker where two cups were already out on the counter and sat at the kitchen table, waiting to be served.

"Listen, nigger," said Cindy, looking up at her, "it's your place to serve me. I don't serve myself. Bring me a cup of coffee, sweet and light. Two sugars and use the half and half, not the milk. Is that clear?"

Did she just call her a nigger? Latessa was beside herself. She was about to smack the snotty white bitch when she thought of Darlene and her college, the bounced checks, and she realized she was trapped. There was nothing she could do except take it and suffer her humiliation silently.

"Sorry, ma'am," she said with restraint. "I'll fix it for you now."

"That's more like it, girl," replied the white woman.

"What's all the commotion?" asked Jack as he entered the kitchen and sat at the table.

"It seems our new maid still needs to learn what she's here for," his wife answered. "She thinks this kitchen is self service like at the 7-11."

"Take it easy, hon," he said, trying to calm her, "she'll get the hang of things around here soon enough."

Latessa poured the coffee. She carefully prepared Cindy's cup to her specifications. The things she had to do for her family, she thought. She silently cursed the economic conditions that led to the layoffs. Before, it had been she who handed out the rebukes and it was her white underlings who took them.

After breakfast, Jack and Cindy left the kitchen, though the white woman gave Latessa a smug smile on the way out. The new black maid cleared the dishes and waited for Bertha to arrive.

The big colored girl showed up a few minutes later, letting herself in the kitchen door.

"Well, I see you still here," she said.

"Only because I need the money so bad," Latessa replied. "Those children are snots, especially the girl. And that woman! She called me a nigger! Can you believe it?"

"Oh, I believes it," said Bertha. "Dem white folks take some gettin' used to. Dat's fo' sho'. You jus' gots to git used to it, dat's all. Let's go. I's gonna show you what you needs to know."

The young black maid showed Latessa around the Andrews's house. Where the bedrooms were, the linen closet, and the laundry chute. Finally Latessa was left alone to make the beds.

That completed, she figured she'd do the laundry next. Somehow the tour had not included how to get to the laundry room itself. It must be in the basement, thought Latessa, but where was the door? She looked around a bit and finally found the door off the kitchen that led down the stairs.

Sure enough, there was the laundry room. At the end of the hall that went past the washer and dryer she could see light streaming out of a door that had been left ajar. As she approached she heard the sound of grunting and hard breathing.

She peeked in the door expecting to find a home gym or exercise room. Instead she was greeted with the sight of Bertha and Mr. Andrews. The big black girl was on the floor on her hands and knees, completely naked. Mr. Andrews was on his knees behind her, his pants down, but otherwise dressed. His hands were on her ass and he was fucking the fat negro maid for all he was worth.

"Oh, Massa!" she cried. "Oh! You fuckin' yo' nigga fine now! Oh, gimme dat white cock! Yo' nigga got da good coochie fo' you! Dat's right, boss, use yo' nigga! Use yo' nigga good!"

Smack!

Jack slapped Bertha on the ass, hard enough to make a sound that made Latessa flinch.

Smack!

"Oh! Oh!" Bertha vocalized. "Oh, Massa, you gon' beat yo' nigga's black ass now? You gon' beat her ass while you fuck her? You too good to yo' nigga. Beatin' her fat black ass dat way."

Latessa stood mesmerized by the sight of the big black maid down on all fours, her floppy breasts swinging hard in response to his thrusts. Her husky voice urging him on. Urging him to slap her, to fuck her, to use her. The sound of flesh on flesh rang in her ears and the smell of sex was in her nostrils.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!", grunted Jack, clearly in the throws of orgasm.

"Dat's right, Massa," Bertha said huskily, "use yo' nigga. Fill yo' nigga wit' yo' cum."

Latessa could see he was just about spent and quickly walked away. She went right up the stairs to the kitchen and sat at the table. She felt her heart racing in her chest. The fear of being discovered combined with the exertion of her hasty retreat had obviously taken a toll on her, she thought.

Maybe a quarter of an hour later, Bertha walked into the kitchen from the dining room as though nothing had happened. There must be more than one way down there, thought Latessa.

"Well, I s'pose I should be showin' you da laundry," said Bertha. "Den where da vacuum is."

Bertha went to the basement door that Latessa had already discovered. She followed her down the stairs.

"What's down the hall?" asked Latessa, as if she didn't know.

"Jus' some mo' rooms. Ain't nothin' special," Bertha answered. "You be seein' dat soon 'nough, girl. Let's be workin' on da laundry fo' now."

Bertha proceeded to show her where the detergent was and how to operate the machines. Latessa wasn't listening, she still had the image and sounds of what she'd just witnessed rolling around in her brain. The big colored girl had been like an animal in heat. And all the shameful things she said! It was never like that with Tommy. He was so restrained and gentlemanly with her. So, she'd find out soon enough? She felt flushed again and noticed a dampness between her legs.

Later Bertha showed her what the rest of her duties were to be. Well, except for the one she was most curious about. Somehow she knew that the day would come when it was to be her on her hands and knees being used by the master of the house for his pleasure. The thought left her with butterflies in her stomach.

* * *

Tom came by at one thirty to pick his wife up. His job involved traveling to customer sites to service office equipment so it was easy for him to work in a trip to the Andrews' house as part of his rounds.

"So, how bad was it?" he asked.

"That woman is a bitch," she replied. "And so's her daughter. Those kids are unbelievable brats. Can you believe I have to call them sir an' ma'am? And, Tommy? That white bitch called me a nigger. A nigger! Can you believe it?"

She held back on what she'd witnessed in the basement room.

"I'm sorry, baby," replied Tom. "You know how white folks are." He felt a twinge at the thought of the blonde haired woman.

What a pussy she had for a husband, she thought. She wasn't surprised that he wouldn't defend her honor. Although what she expected him to do, she wasn't sure. But, at least he could have come up with something better than that.

She had nothing more to say to him and they rode the rest of the way without speaking.

* * *

That night she turned away from her husband as they lay in bed.

"Not tonight, Tommy," she said. "I just don't feel up to it. Besides, you've got to drop me off early again. We're going to have to get used to that."

Tom had no response to that either. Instead, images of Cindy's cold expression filled his thoughts as he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 2 - A Maid's Place

Latessa arrived at the crack of dawn the next day, already loathing the thought of another day of indignities and petty humiliations.

It was after she'd finished serving Mr. and Mrs. Andrews their breakfast when Cindy took Latessa aside.

"I noticed that this floor is filthy," she said. "You'll have to do something about it. There's cleaning stuff around here somewhere. Look for it. I expect you to do a proper job of it."

"Yes, ma'am," replied the black woman.

I could wring her neck, thought Latessa. The sassy bitch.

After clearing away the breakfast dishes Latessa searched the cabinets and closets and finally found a mop and bucket. She mopped the floor and then went on to start on the beds and laundry.

Bertha turned up while Latessa was preparing lunch.

"I didn't expect you until later on," said the older woman.

"Massa Jack likes me to be comin' in early," the big black girl replied, checking to be sure her cap was on straight before walking out of the kitchen.

I can imagine why, thought Latessa.

Cindy was the only one who came down for lunch.

"I thought I told you to wash this floor!" she said with disappointment. "It looks like it's barely been touched."

"I mopped it like you said, ma'am," explained Latessa.

"Well, that's not good enough!" Cindy said, exasperated, "I want the floor to sparkle. You have to scrub it."

"All I found was the mop," replied the new black maid.

"Well, then," she said , "you have to look harder then, don't you? Why don't you go look downstairs. Do I have to explain everything to you, nigger?"

Cindy turned and walked away. Latessa could barely contain her anger. That was the second time that snotty bitch called her nigger. One more time and she didn't know what she'd do.

Latessa ventured down into the basement. There was a scrub brush on a shelf in the laundry room. Again she heard the sounds of sex coming from the room at the end of the hall. She couldn't resist taking a peek.

This time Bertha was on her knees, her head resting on the floor turned towards the door with her eyes closed. She still wore her maid's uniform. The bottom was thrown up over her back revealing her big naked black ass. Jack was on his knees behind her, his pants down, though otherwise dressed. He was pumping her as before, with Bertha grunting with each thrust.

"You like yo' nigga's big black ass, boss?" she asked while he fucked her. "You like usin' yo' nigga dis way?"

The muffled slapping sound of his crotch against her fat ass continued steadily along with the white man's heavy breathing. Bertha's eyes opened and she was looking right at Latessa where she stood in the hall, the half open door between them.

"Dat's right, Massa, you use yo' nigga how you like to," encouraged the big colored girl, giving no indication that she saw Latessa.

Latessa hurried back up the stairs and sat in one of the kitchen chairs, her heart gradually slowing down. She wondered if Bertha had actually seen her. She wondered what had possessed her to look in on them.

How could she be aroused by that, she asked herself. What was it about seeing that nasty white man and his fat black bitch that was having such an effect on her? And her debasing herself that way! Calling herself a nigger for him. Asking him for his approval while bent over like an animal. Asking to be used like some kind of thing! It was humiliating and Latessa felt shame for her. Then she thought of her reaction to it and felt shame for herself.

She looked at the scrub brush and got up. Latessa filled the bucket with soapy water and got down on her hands and knees and began to scrub the kitchen floor. The smell of the cleaner filled her nostrils as she scrubbed. The sound of approaching heeled footsteps got her attention. She saw the white woman's leather pump clad feet right in front of her face. The black maid slowly looked up at her.

"This is more like it," said Cindy with satisfaction. "See, girl, this isn't so hard. You just need to apply yourself."

"Yes, ma'am," Latessa mumbled back and returned her attention to her task as Cindy walked away.

Girl. She was at least fifteen years that white bimbo's senior and she had the nerve to call her girl. The black woman was half tempted to tell her that her husband was downstairs banging the other maid. That would wipe the smug look off the bitch's face.

* * *

Eventually, one thirty rolled around and Latessa was waiting for Tom to show up to take her home when Bertha walked up to her.

"I saw you, girl," she said. "What was you doin' snoopin' 'round down dere?"

"I'm sorry, Bertha," Latessa replied sheepishly. "I went down for the scrub brush an' heard a noise. I didn't mean to invade your privacy. I had no idea."

That last part was a lie, she knew, but she was embarrassed at having been caught, and shamed at being turned on by it.

"Well, you better mind yo' own bidness," Bertha told her, hands on her hips. "It gon' be you, soon 'nuf."

The big black girl turned and walked out.

What? Oh, no it wouldn't. How could she even think a thing like that! thought Latessa. Letting that white man touch her? That would never happen.

Latessa couldn't bear to even discuss the indignities she'd suffered when Tom finally arrived. They rode home without speaking just like the day before.

* * *

That night after rebuffing Tom's advances again she lay awake in bed. The image of the big black girl on her knees, presenting her sex to her white master like an animal in heat, was burned into her brain. What it must be like, she thought, to just allow yourself to be taken and used that way. She drifted off to sleep trying to think of something else, anything else, but couldn't.

Chapter 3 - Massa Jack's Study

Latessa had just finished washing the breakfast dishes when she heard Cindy ringing the bell. She dried her hands off on her apron as she went to find out what the white bitch wanted. The colored woman found her in the bathroom next to Mr. Andrews' study.

"I can't believe how disgusting it is in here!" she complained. "This is simply not acceptable. Look at the tile grout on the floor! Eeeww! It's supposed to be white! Get the brush in here and scrub it off."

The new maid fetched the cleaning bucket and brush, sank to her knees, and commenced to scrub. Her face was hot with shame for letting the diminutive white woman talk to her that way. If only she didn't need the money so desperately, she'd put her lights out.

Latessa finished the area behind the toilet and was startled to took up and see Jack standing in the doorway watching her.

"You gave me a scare, sir," she told him. "I didn't know you were there."

"Oh, I've been standing here a while," he ventured. "I love seeing a fine negress like yourself down on her hands and knees like that. I could watch it all day. Why don't you come by my study when you've washed up."

Finished at last with her latest degrading task, Latessa knocked on the study door. She felt a tightness in her chest in anticipation of what he had in mind for her.

"Come on in," he called to her. "Close the door," he instructed, once she had entered the room.

Jack Andrews sat behind a large wooden desk in a high backed leather chair. The walls were paneled with light colored wood and the floor was covered with a dark red oriental rug. A few large leather upholstered chairs occupied the space between the door and the desk. There was a fireplace, though warm as it was, no fire in it.

On the wall above it there was a large oil painting depicting a landscape of green trees, blue skies, and in the distance a white mansion. Latessa started to notice the other paintings depicting green fields and people standing in them. Black people. A painting behind the desk depicted three nude black women standing in front of the same mansion over the fireplace.

"Latessa," he continued, "that's a nice name. I think I'll call you Tessa for short. I understand you used to work at that the big company downtown. Managed a whole department, Tom tells me."

"Yes, sir," she replied, wistfully remembering her old life, "I did."

"It's a shame about the down sizing. They were a good client of mine. We lost a lot of business," said Jack. "That's a lot of responsibility, managing so many people like that. I know. I run an entire business and I feel the burden of that responsibility. Employees, they just have to do the job. Somebody else worries about making the payroll and keeping business coming in. Me."

"Here, too," he continued. "The only thing the domestic staff in my home are responsible for is serving and pleasing me and my family. That's all. I worry about everything else and take care of them. You've got no deadlines, no concern for others depending upon you, none of it. Just serve and please. It's not so bad, is it?"

"No, sir," Latessa looked down at the floor. "I suppose not."

"And that convenience store!" he exclaimed. "I had to help get you out of there! There's little pressure of responsibility there, but no one there appreciates your services like I do here. And minimum wage to boot. It's just a waste."

"You're a find looking negress, Tessa," Jack shifted gears. "Very attractive. How old is your daughter? Eighteen? It's hard for me to believe that you're old enough to have an eighteen year old child. I wouldn't think you were more than thirty by looking at you."

"I'd like you to take that dress off, Tessa," he continued. "I'd like to see you naked. Now."

"Excuse me, sir?" she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I said to take off your clothes," he reiterated. "Get naked for me. Now."

"But, sir!" she protested, "I'm a married woman!"

"That doesn't bother me," he answered. "Your job here is to please me and it would please me to see you naked. Please don't argue with me. It's inappropriate. It's not your place."

"But what about your wife?" Latessa knew already that wouldn't stop him.

"My wife?" he laughed. "Why should she care? You're just a nigger. She knows what I like to do with the nigger girls. Get undressed."

Latessa was shocked to hear the matter of fact way he dismissed her protests. She was trapped. Her choice was to walk out or to submit to him.

The negro woman reached around behind her and untied the apron, tossing it into the nearest leather upholstered chair. The zipper of her dress went down the back and she struggled awkwardly with it before she got it down and let the dress fall to the floor. She stood there in her slip in the middle of the oriental rug.

"Massa Jack," she pleaded, "this ain't right. Please don't make me do this."

But while Latessa begged, she could feel her heart pound and her pussy getting wet.

"Keep going, Tessa," he said calmly. "Take off the slip."

Latessa pulled the slip over her head leaving her bra, panties, and shoes. She stepped out of the shoes. She wasn't wearing stockings or even socks.

"Now the good part," said Jack with a smile. "Let's see those udders. Lose the bra."

Udders? Was this white man actually adding to her humiliation by comparing her to a cow? How could he expect her to continue?

"Massa, please," she begged. "This is shameful what you're makin' me do."

"Shameful?" he asked. "Are you ashamed of your body?"

"No, Massa," replied Latessa, "That's not what I mean. Taking my clothes off here is shameful."

She felt light headed. A bead of sweat rolled off her forehead. Her pussy was even wetter.

"Ah, you feel shame at exposing yourself to me," he said understandingly. "Good. I think that's adorable. Take off the bra."

She reached around and unclasped the bra and let it slip down her arms. The black maid quickly covered herself with one arm and let the garment fall on the floor.

"Protecting your modesty, are you?" he asked. "That's precious. But you should have no modesty with me. You have no responsibility to protect it anyway. Let it go, Tessa. Take it easy. Drop your arms and let me see what you've got there for me."

She could feel her pulse hammering in her ears and her legs a little weak as she dropped her arm revealing her full, but firm black breasts. She dropped her head in shame as well.

"They're a beautiful set, Tessa," he said smoothly. "Perfect size, just the right amount of sag. No way you're a day over thirty with a figure like that. But don't stop there. One more item to go. Time to get naked for me."

It was all so objectifying. His words were complimentary, but he was still talking about her as if she were a thing.

Latessa pushed her panties down past her knees and let them drop the rest of the way to her ankles. She stepped out of them, unable to look at the white man behind the desk. She could smell her own scent and was afraid Jack would be able to tell how aroused she was.

"See, that wasn't so hard," he said, admiring her nude form. "Turn around. Slowly. So I can see the back."

Complying, she slowly turned. He drank in the picture of her backside. Her dark skin, soft shoulders, shapely waist, and ample ass.

"Very good," he said approvingly. "You know, I've never seen a nigger girl who didn't have a fine black ass. You are certainly no exception. Put your hands behind your head. It shows off the breasts nicely and it's deliciously submissive."

Keeping her head bowed, Latessa raised her hands and clasped them behind her head. She could feel her legs trembling slightly.

"Beautiful," he observed. "Look at me, Tessa. Let me see your face."

She looked up at him, though she left her eyes downcast.

"Come around the desk," he instructed her. "Keep your hands where they are and come back around here."

The black woman slowly walked across the rug with her hands still behind her head. He turned his chair to one side and she stepped up to the spot in front of it. He reached his hand out and ran it down one of her arms and back up again. He ran his palm gently over her breasts, her nipples were already erect.

"Nice..." he murmured.

He used the back of his hand to caress her belly and then ran the backs of his fingers over her curly black bush.

"Move your feet and open your legs, girl," said the white man as he continued to enjoy the sensation of the negress's pubic hairs.

Latessa shifted her weight and spread her feet further apart and felt Jacks hand go between her legs.

"Good girl," he praised her. I love the way you look in this position. I have all my girls display themselves to me like this after they've undressed for me. Don't forget it."

He ran a finger along the outside of her slit while looking into her dark brown eyes.

"What's this?" he asked with mock surprise. "Your pussy is wet, Tessa. And here you were complaining so much. You like this, don't you?"

She felt her face flush with embarrassment. He stroked her sex gently and felt her shudder in his hand. The dampness betrayed her arousal and encouraged him to do more. He slipped his finger in her slit and ran it from her opening to her clit. This elicited a gasp from the colored woman.

"Ah, the sweet spot," he said knowingly. "Nigger girls love to have the sweet spot played with, don't you?"

Finally he felt her begin to buck her hips almost imperceptibly and push herself into his hand.

"You do." observed Jack, stroking her a little faster, a little harder.

Her pussy pushed against his hand harder.

"Should I stop?" he asked teasingly.

"No, Massa," she replied.

"Now we're getting somewhere," he said. "I think I will stop unless you ask me to continue."

She felt so ashamed of herself for allowing this white man to put his hands on the most intimate parts of her body. And now, letting him do it wasn't enough for him. He expected her to ask for this treatment!

"Please, don't stop, Massa." Latessa requested.

"I'm sorry," he teased, "I don't know what you mean. What shouldn't I stop?"

He wanted her to spell it out! Her face was hot, embarrassed at the position she was in. But her pussy burned with desire and she didn't want the feeling she was getting from his attentions to end.

"Don't stop playin' with my coochie, Massa," she replied.

Her eyes were closed and she was dropping her hands down from their original position.

"What are you, Tessa?" he asked as he continued to stroke the black woman's pussy.

"A... a..." she struggled to concentrate as the pleasure she was feeling distracted her. "A maid, Massa."

"Not your occupation, girl," he told her, "something more fundamental. Something basic. Tell me what you are?"

She understood what he wanted her to say. She couldn't say it. Not the word that angered her so when it was used by others towards her. This white man wanted her to use it to describe herself.

"A nigger, sir." Her voice was barely audible.

"Excuse me?" he asked. "I didn't hear that."

"A nigger, sir," she said more loudly.

"Mmmm," he responded, "that felt good, didn't it? Say it again, so we both can hear it."

"I'm a nigger, Massa," she said more loudly still.

"Very good, Tessa," he praised her. "That's what I want to hear."

The negress continued to grind her pussy into the white man's hand as he penetrated her with his finger and played with her clit with his thumb. She moaned softly.

"Would you like me to make you cum?" he asked.

"Yes, Massa." she responded in a husky voice.

"Then ask."

"Please, Massa. Please make me cum."

"All right," said Jack. "But you have to ask for permission before you do. Niggers can't cum without asking first."

"Yes, Massa," she gasped.

He continued to work her pussy and she kept grinding it against his hand for a few more minutes. Latessa was obviously getting close and was breathing hard.

"Can I cum, Massa?" she said dreamily.

"Yes, Tessa," he answered. "You may cum for me. Cum, nigger."

"Ohhh! Ahhh!" she vocalized. Jack was rubbing her pussy hard and fast now. Her arms were by her side now. "Ohhh!"

He felt the black woman gush into his hand leaving it sticky with her juices. She opened her eyes and looked down at the white man who had just masturbated her to orgasm.

"Get on your knees, girl," he instructed.

Latessa quickly obeyed.

"What do you say to me?" he asked.

"Thank you, Massa", she answered, looking up at him smiling, her pussy still radiating heat.

He held his sticky hand out to her and wiped it off on each side of her face. Then he put it right in front of her. Without being told she began to lick it off lustily.

"Excellent." he said. "Not only are you learning, but you're figuring it out for yourself. I told you, nigger girl. It comes naturally to you."

She looked at him and smiled, her face now wet with her own cum. What happened, she thought as she gradually came down. Why did she behave so shamefully? How could she face her husband?

"You may get dressed now, Tessa, and resume your other duties." he said reaching for the phone. "I've got some calls to make."

Latessa rose to her feet and walked over to begin putting her clothes back on while he dialed. The white man watched her dress as he waited for an answer and then began his conversation about some business matter.

When she was finished, the negress left the study and almost immediately crossed paths with Cindy.

"Well, look at you!" she exclaimed as she noticed the black maid's disheveled appearance. Stepping closer to her, the white woman wrinkled her nose. "Damn, you even smell like a nigger now! I don't know why you get upset when I call you what you so obviously are. You're an animal in heat, girl. A bitch nigger."

Latessa was mortified to run into Cindy while she was reeking of her own sex. She didn't doubt Jack's word that his wife didn't care about his activities. Yet she still was less than comfortable with it herself.

She hurried to the servant's bathroom off the kitchen. The black woman washed her face and brushed her hair, finally replacing the maid's cap.

She had barely finished freshening up when Tom arrived to take her home.

"So was today any better?" he asked once they were headed down the road.

"It wasn't so bad," she answered.

* * *

That night, Latessa didn't turn Tom away. He reached out for her, and caressed her back as she lay there. She rolled towards him and his hands went to her breasts, gently squeezing them, and then down to her belly and between her legs.

In her mind, it was Massa Jack's hands on her, not her husband's. And when he rolled on top of her and entered her, it was Massa Jack fucking her, not her husband.

She knew she was slipping away and didn't even try to hold on.

Chapter 4 - Service Lessons

The next morning Mr. Andrews didn't seem to act as if anything had changed. He took his breakfast with his wife and spoke to the maid in the same tone he'd always used.

After Latessa finished the lunch dishes, Bertha arrived.

"Massa Jack be wantin' me to fill you in on a couple o' things, girl," said the big black woman. "First, you gots to show proper respect when you be talkin' to him. Dat means you don't be sayin' 'me' or 'I' to him. You call yo'self his nigga. It's gotta be 'yo nigga dis and 'yo' nigga dat. Understands? Da other is dat da Massa love to hear his niggas talkin' like old time slaves. I do it so much, I catch myself doin' it to home. You wanna please Massa, dat's what you do."

Latessa had finally been able to begin to understand that Mr. Andrews didn't mean any insult by call her nigger and was getting over her negative reaction to it. She was even starting to ignore the petty humiliations. But this? She would have to call herself nigger? And talk like an ignorant slave? This would take more of her will to get through. She thought of her old office and how far she'd fallen since then.

"I knows Massa Jack be waitin' now," said Bertha. "He don't like to be waitin' too long."

The two black women walked through the house to the study. The big girl knocked on the door.

"Come in." called Mr. Andrews.

As they entered, Jack came around from behind his desk.

"Get on your knees, Tessa," he ordered.

Latessa, still dressed in her maid uniform got on her knees and awaited further instructions. He undid his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. He sat in a leather chair.

"Do you suck Tom's cock?" he asked.

Taken aback at the personal nature of the question, Latessa hesitated for a moment. Still, she found herself wanting to answer.

"Not very often, Massa" she replied. "Only on his birthday."

"On his birthday!" laughed Jack.

Bertha snickered.

"So you don't enjoy sucking cock, eh?" he questioned her.

"No, sir." was her reply.

"You'll suck mine, won't you, girl?" he asked, now serious.

"Yes, Massa," she answered, hanging her head with the shame of it. Remembering Bertha's coaching she said, "Yo' nigga do what you want."

"Did you tell her to talk like that, Bertha?" he asked, smiling at the big black girl.

"Dat's right, Massa," Bertha replied. "I sho' did."

"Well, I love it!" he gushed. "I know it sounds silly, but it really gets my dick hard. Good girl!"

He looked back an the kneeling colored woman on the floor.

"So suck it, nigger" he ordered.

Latessa moved forward on her knees until she could get her head into his lap. She took his white cock between her thick black lips and sucked.

"You gots to lick it first, girl." corrected Bertha. "Lick it all over den suck it."

Latessa let his cock slip out of her mouth and lapped her tongue along the length of it. Again and again, finally followed by her sucking the head back in.

"Now bob yo' head, girl" Bertha instructed, "like yo' face was a coochie fuckin' Massa's dick. Use yo' hands on his balls. Dat's what he like."

This was the part that always left her jaw aching that led to poor Tom only getting head on special occasions. But now, she had no choice but to fuck Jack's cock with her mouth. Faster and faster she went as she gently fondled his balls.

"Oh, Tessa!" he sighed, "you are a fine cocksuckin' nigger. And with so little practice.. But, you'll get plenty of practice now... Ah!"

She could feel his balls twitch and with a grunt he ejaculated in her mouth. Latessa continued to suck until she felt him going flaccid. She had spat Tom's semen out the few times she'd actually let him cum in her mouth, but she knew instinctively that that would be very disrespectful and swallowed all she could. She could feel some leaking out the corner of her mouth and running down to her chin.

"Don't be doin dat, girl," Bertha warned as Latessa went to wipe it off with the back of her hand. "Dat's disrespectin' da Massa. He be tellin' you to wash yo' face when he want you to. You jus' say thank you an' wait fo' what he want you to be doin'."

Latessa looked up at Jack from her knees.

"Thank you, Massa," she said sheepishly.

"You're welcome, Tessa," he replied. "You seem to have some on your blouse, too. Don't touch any of it. I think I like it there."

"Yes, Massa," she said evenly.

However, inside she was panicing a little. What if Tom noticed?

* * *

Tom didn't notice the few drops of semen on his wife's face and blouse. Or, at least he didn't ask about them on the drive home. He seemed preoccupied with his own concerns..

* * *

That night in bed he reached out to her and she withdrew from his touch.

"What's the matter, baby?" he asked. "Has this whole job thing got you so down?"

"It's not exactly what you think, Tommy," responded Latessa, rolling over to look him in the face. "There's more to that job than we thought. I've had to... well... do some things I'm not proud of..."

"Like what?" he questioned her.

Tom felt a twinge of arousal as he tried to imagine what those things might be. He quickly suppressed the thought, ashamed of his excitement.

"I don't want to talk about it," she replied. "Just understand that I can't... right now. Ok?"

He rolled over, turning his back to her. His mind returned to speculation as to his wife's activities at the Andrews' place. Hers returned to the memories of them. They both lay awake without speaking another word.

Chapter 5 - Taking Latessa

They still hadn't spoken when Tom dropped his wife off at the Andrews' place. He was too mixed up about his feelings and didn't want to say anything that would make things worse. Latessa had nothing more to add to what she'd already said the night before and it was eating him up to know what she was talking about. Instinctively he knew Mr. Andrews was at the heart of it.

Tom got to work early and since this was a day that his boss would actually be in the office in the morning. The black man waited for Mr. Andrews to arrive.

It was well after nine when Jack got in.

"Mr. Andrews, I've got to speak to you," said Tom, rising to his feet as his boss walked by him towards his office.

"Tom!" he exclaimed. "I'm glad you're here. I've got some good news for you. Come on in."

Tom followed him into his office.

"I just signed the contract," Jack continued. "New client. I think I can get fifteen or twenty hours extra for you. I know I should spread it through your department, but I understand the financial pressure you're under and I want to help out."

Tom didn't know what to say. He had been prepared to confront his boss and find out just what he had Latessa doing up to that house of his, but now he paused to consider.

It wouldn't be the first time she'd told him something just to avoid having sex with him. This could be another one of those times. If he got all indignant with Mr. Andrews over this and the boss didn't know what he was talking about he'd look like an idiot. Not to mention the fact that the extra hours he needed so desperately could be lost.

"So, you still want them?" said Jack. "I'd like your answer now, because if you don't, I've got to make sure they're covered."

The white man looked Tom in the eye.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Tom stuttered.

No way was he going to jeopardize this with any wild accusations.

"I'll take 'em. Thanks, sir."

"Good!" Jack said heartily. "Glad to hear it. Now what did you want to talk about?"

"Well, uh," Tom tried to think quickly, "that was it, sir, the hours. I wanted to ask if any had turned up yet. That's all."

"You must by psychic, Tom my boy," continued his boss. "The ink isn't even dry on the contract yet. Actually, I'd like you to get over there and scope out the condition their equipment is in. Suzy has the address and phone number. Get it from her. Make sure we've got spare parts for what they've got. You know the drill."

"Right, Mr. Andrews," he said, still somewhat dazed. "I'll take care of it."

Tom left to go collect the new client's information from Mr. Andrews' secretary. Good thing the boss spoke first, he thought, or things could have been said that might be hard to take back.

* * *

Jack got home in time to enjoy the lunch Latessa had prepared for him and his wife. He lingered after Cindy had left the table.

"Tessa, when you're finished with the dishes I want you to come to the study," he instructed her on his way out of the room.

"Yes, suh, Massa," she replied, feeling her heart starting to pound already.

She stood before the sink and hastily washed the plates off in the soapy water. Latessa felt a tingling sensation inside her and could sense the growing dampness between her legs. The anticipation was overwhelming to her as she tried to imagine what her white master had in mind. She hurriedly completed her kitchen tasks and went to Jack's study.

"Come in," he called in response to her knock.

The negro maid walked in and closed the door behind her and saw that her master was on the phone. He covered the mouthpiece with his hand.

"Get undressed," he ordered and resumed his conversation.

Latessa complied quickly. She couldn't believe she was so eager to submit to this white man's will. She needed the money he paid her as a maid, however, she was sure he'd keep her on even if she didn't suffer this humiliation so gladly. She felt a wave of shame wash over her as she realized she was turning into a willing participant in her own debasement.

Jack waved her around behind his desk once she was naked. Latessa stood in the display position he'd told her to assume whenever she undressed for him. With her hands behind her head she stood before him with her legs spread. Without dropping a beat in his discussion of business matters on the telephone he reached up, slid his hand between her legs and slipped his finger into her vagina. She gasped at the suddenness of it.

He looked up at her and smiled. He withdrew his hand and held up a finger, shiny with her juices and showed it to her, and winked. He held it to her lips and she instinctively began to suck on it. After a long few seconds he put his hand back between her legs and slowly stroked her pussy. She felt her legs tremble at his touch.

Finally Jack hung up the phone and turned his full attention to Latessa. He brought his other hand up and caressed her breasts, first one and then the other. Lifting them, squeezing them, running his hand over them. All the while he kept rubbing her pussy with the other hand faster and harder.

She moaned as she pressed her crotch into his hand as she felt her pleasure building inside. Yes, she thought, she was standing here naked in front of a fully clothed man, her legs gaping open and his hand working her pussy. It was a humiliating position, to be played with like some kind of human toy. But she couldn't deny how good it felt.

"Massa," she whimpered, "kin I cum? Kin yo' nigga cum now?"

"You're a good nigger, Tessa," he said softly. "You may cum for me."

This time she just whimpered softly and gushed into his hand while she continued to buck her hips as she stood there, her knees feeling weak.

"Thank you, Massa," she said, "fo' makin' yo' nigga cum."

"You're welcome, Tessa," he told her, "now get on your knees for me."

Latessa opened her eyes and knelt of the floor. He held his hand out to her. It glistened with her cum. She leaned forward and lapped at it, looking right into his steel blue eyes.

"Good girl," he praised her when she'd finished licking her juices off of his hand. "Stand up."

She stood and resumed the display position. He ran his fingertips over her bush with one hand and reached back to pick up the phone with the other. He pressed a single button on the base and spoke into the handset.

"Bertha, come in here," he said.

Thirty seconds later there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," he called and the big black girl walked in.

"Bertha, why didn't you tell Tessa she needed to have her coochie naked for me?" he asked. "I'm a little surprised at you."

"I's sorry, Massa," she said her eyes downcast. "I guess I jus' forgot."

"I'll be dealing with you later about this, girl," he said sternly. "Sometimes I think you like getting switched and you just do this to get what you want."

"I's sorry, Massa," the young black maid said again with a hint of a smile on her face.

"Well, be that as it may," he continued, "I want you take Tessa and take care of that little detail immediately and bring her back here."

"Yes, Massa," Bertha replied, looking back up. "Let's go, girl," she said to Latessa.

The two negro servants left the study. Bertha in her maid uniform, Latessa completely nude. She felt very exposed walking around the house naked.

Cindy was sitting on the couch in the living room and watched the black women walking by. She smirked to herself for a second and then went back to the magazine she was reading.

Bertha led Latessa into the servant's bathroom and got out the shaving cream. The big girl lathered the older negress's pubic region up, took a razor, and slowly shaved her pussy bald. Latessa hadn't ever done this before and now her coochie was naked for the first time since she was twelve. She hadn't ever felt so naked and exposed before.

Back towards the study they went, Bertha delivering the freshly shaved Latessa to her master.

"Hold it, ladies," said Cindy from her spot on the couch. "Come here, Tessa."

Latessa slowly walked over to her while Bertha just stood where she'd stopped.

"Ahem," Cindy looked up the naked black maid. "Aren't you supposed to display for me like a good nigger girl?"

She hadn't been told to do that for anyone but Jack, but she knew she had to do what the white woman said. She felt strange spreading her legs out and clasping her hands behind her head for a woman. Especially one almost fifteen years her junior.

"Hmmm," said Cindy. "I see you're all shaved and ready to go. You look like a proper nigger slut."

Cindy reached out and touched Latessa's pussy. The black woman shuddered at the sensation of the blonde's hand on her.

"I bet he's going to fuck you now," she said. "He does love to fuck the niggers. But keep in mind he's just using your body to get himself off. You're like a live sex doll to him, that's all. Because you are just a nigger. Nothing more. Just something for him to stick his dick into. Not even a whore. A thing to be used. Get it?"

Latessa said nothing, her face burning with shame.

"So you had all those people working for you, huh?" Cindy asked, looking up into Latessa's face from her seat on the couch.

Cindy stood, though the top of her head barely came to the black woman's chin.

"That must have been something to see," the white woman went on. "Miss high and mighty sitting in judgment of all those folks. Doling out the raises and vacation time. Writing employee reviews. What power you had over them! 'Yes, ma'am', 'no, ma'am' from all those white men with families to support."

"But now you're here," she stated. "Standing naked and shaved in my living room about to go and be used by my husband like a nigger whore."

Latessa hung her head, her face burning. Listening to Cindy berate her stung, but she stood there and took it. There was, after all, little she could do about it short of walking out. She couldn't afford to do that.

"Well, you're nothing but a nigger now, bitch," she said. "Don't you ever forget it. Too bad my husband doesn't like me to be there the first time he uses a new bitch. I'd love to be there. I will be there next time though. And I'll be there the first time he uses your black ass. That's right girl, he'll shove his cock right up your nigger ass. How about that?"

Latessa didn't know what to say and so said nothing.

"All right," Cindy finished, "that's enough for now. Take your black butt in there and get used. I'm sure you're good for that."

The colored woman dropped her arms and joined the big black girl and continued on to the study. She had been aroused in anticipation of more of Mr. Andrews attentions. The incident with his blonde wife had been a stark reminder of the reality of the situation. The realization left her shamed. The fact that she was already wet for him humiliated her.

Latessa realized she wasn't on her way to meet an exciting new lover. She was on her way to submit to her white master. He didn't see her as sweet young thing. When he looked at her he saw a sexual animal. A nigger bitch for use. Just like Miz Cindy said.

"Don't be takin' Miz Cindy personal," said Bertha quietly. "She loves puttin' niggas in dere place. Dat's fo' sho'! She get all 'cited when she be doin' dat. I loves servin' her an' makin' her feel good, so I's glad to be takin' it from her."

Bertha continued, "another thing I think is dat she don't 'preciate how Massa Jack loves to use us niggas so much. She don't say so, but I think it be da truth. But, it don't matter. Niggas ain't gotta worry 'bout dat shit, no how. All we gotta do is serve dem white folks an' do like dey say an' make 'em happy. Dat's all."

Latessa considered Bertha's words and tried to see things from the big black girl's perspective. Maybe she'd been to quick to judge Cindy. The idea that the white woman was actually getting sexual pleasure out of acting the way she did put things in a different light and the notion that she was a little envious of her husband's attentions gave the negro a small sense of satisfaction. Still, the white woman pissed her off. She'd just have to get used to her.

The two negro maids returned to Jack's study where he was waiting.

"Let's have a look at you," he said, motioning for Latessa to join him behind the big wooden desk.

She quickly came as he instructed and assumed the proper posture for him. He leaned forward and stroked her now bare pussy.

"Very nice," he said approvingly. "Very nice indeed. I was going to give you five strokes for forgetting to tell Tessa she needed to be shaved. But since you did such a fine job on her I'll give you ten."

"Thank you, Massa," she said, trying to hide her smile, the blush almost audible in her voice.

"Get naked, Bertha," he ordered her, "and assume the position. You know what to do."

The big black girl quickly undressed. Jack stood and walked to a cabinet in the corner of the room. By the time he'd selected a wooden switch to use on his forgetful negro servant she was already bent over, resting her hands on his desk, offering up her fat black ass for punishment.

"I'd like you to count them out, girl," he said conversationally.

He stepped closely to her and rubbed both butt cheeks in turn with the palm of his hand. He took a step back, raised the hand holding the switch and...

Thwack!

Bertha flinched from the blow and her large hanging breasts shuddered.

"One, Massa," she said. "Thank you, suh."

Thwack!

No flinch this time, but her breasts still swayed.

"Two, Massa," she counted. "Thank you, suh."

Thwack!

He struck her harder and the big black girl whimpered. Latessa was astounded with herself that she was getting very aroused watching Bertha getting whupped.

"Three, Massa," she gasped. "Thank you, suh."

Thwack!

"Ow!" she cried. "Three, Massa. Thank you, suh."

And on it went until the last one.

"Brace yourself, girl," said Jack. "This last one will be a good one."

Thwack!!

"Agh!" she cried out in pain. "Ten, Massa," her voice wavered. "Thank you, suh."

"That's all, Bertha," he said softly.

He stepped closer to her and ran his hand over the welts that were coming up on her dark flesh. The room was so quiet that Latessa could hear the sound of Bertha's soft whimpering and heavy breathing. Even the almost inaudible sound of her tears dropping onto some papers on Mr. Andrews' desk could be heard. Her own heart pounding in her ears, she wondered what it was like to be whupped like that. She knew that witnessing it left her pussy soaking.

"Good girl," he said at last to the bent over black maid.

Mr. Andrews turned towards Latessa, rapping the switch on the desk top next to Bertha.

"Bend over here, Tessa," he said. "I'm ready for some of that nigger poontang you've got for me."

Latessa stood next to Bertha and bent over, half afraid he would use the switch on her. She heard him unzip his pants and immediately felt him behind her, entering her. Whupping the fat black girl had obviously gotten him hard and watching him to it had the older negress wet and ready.

"I love taking a new nigger for the first time," he said with satisfaction. "I love using them every time, but the first time is always special."

Jack slowly entered the new maid's pussy as she was bent over his desk.

"Damn, girl, but you are so wet!" he said as he fucked her. "You loved watching me whup Bertha's big fat nigger ass, didn't you?"

"Yes, Massa," she said dreamily, her attention focused on his white cock moving in and out of her black pussy, not on the question.

Bertha remained, bent over, standing next to her. Latessa felt so dominated by the white man as she submissively took each thrust into her black body. Jack started to go faster and she could feel the stirrings of an orgasm building inside her. She was starting to get close when she felt him drive deeply into her and ejaculate in her vagina.

"Ungh... ah..." he grunted as he filled her with his seed.

Latessa was disappointed, realizing she wasn't going to get to cum. Jack was clearly only concerned with his own satisfaction, not that of his negro maid. He withdrew himself from her and slapped her on the ass.

"You've got a nice pussy, girl," he said. "I could fuck you all day. But, I've got to get some work done. Clean my dick off."

Her pussy was still throbbing, waiting for release. But that wouldn't be coming this time. Latessa kneeled before her master and licked the mixture of semen and vaginal juices off of it.

"Ok, you niggers can run along now," he said. "Take your clothes with you and get dressed somewhere else. I'll never get anything done with you two here like that!"

Latessa remained on her knees for a moment as the idea sank in that he expected her to dress out in the living room in front of his wife with his semen leaking out of her just fucked black pussy. As she stood, Bertha elbowed her gently.

"What do you say to da man?" whispered the big black girl. "You done got a coochie full o' his cum in you."

Latessa hung her head a little.

"Thank you, Massa," she said quietly. "Thank you for usin' yo' nigga dat way."

"Any time, girl," he replied heartily, "any time."

Bertha and Latessa picked up their clothes and went back out into the living room to dress. Cindy looked up from her magazine to watch.

"Come here, both of you," she ordered. She then indicated the clothing they carried. "You won't need those things. Leave them."

The two black maids dropped their uniforms on the floor and went to the blonde haired woman.

"Hmmm," she mused and looked at the welts on Bertha's ass and the cum running down Latessa's leg. "Looks like nigger number one got whupped and nigger number two got fucked. Is that about the size of it?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied the fat negro girl. "Massa Jack done whupped me and used Tessa after."

"Go dress in the kitchen," she said dismissively. "I think I've seen enough of your nasty black asses already." She looked right at Latessa. "And don't leak on the carpet."

They picked up their clothes again and went to dress in the kitchen.

"Didn't that hurt, Bertha?" Latessa asked the big girl when they were alone.

"'Course it be hurtin', girl!" she answered. "Massa Jack done tore my ass up!"

"But why did he give you more strokes," Latessa blushed, "when he was pleased how you shaved me?"

"'Cause he know how I like it!" laughed Bertha. "Massa know I like him to warm up my fat black ass dat way."

"I... I...," the older black maid stammered, "I don't understand."

"You will, girl," said the big girl with a smile.

* * *

Latessa once again had to deny her husband that night.

"I'm serious, Tommy!" Latessa said sternly. "Don't make this so hard for me. Just believe me when I say I can't do what you want right now."

"Is Andrews... is he fuckin' you?" he asked point blank.

"What do you think, Tommy!" she shot back. "Weren't you the one to deliver me to him? You brought your own wife to that white man! Of course he fucked me! And I sucked his dick. And I swallowed his cum. He calls me nigger and uses my body the way he wants."

"No," replied Tom calmly. "No, baby. You lyin' to me. I know you is. You just mad 'bout all this. That's all."

"Believe what you want to believe," she replied, rolled over, and turned her back on him.

They lay awake in the dark well into the night. Each alone with their own thoughts. Thoughts of Mr. Andrews having his way with Latessa. Thoughts that made Latessa wet. Thoughts that made Tom hard.

Chapter 6 - Ladies' Day

The ride to the Andrews' place was strained the next morning. Tom didn't know what to believe. Part of him wanted her to be lying. It couldn't be true. That his wife was now his boss's to use. The thought of it angered him.

But there was another feeling he was experiencing that disturbed him greatly. Picturing his beautiful black wife sexually engaged with the white man left him strangely aroused. And that feeling left him ashamed.

* * *

Bertha surprised her when she arrived as Latessa was finishing the breakfast dishes.

"I didn't expect to see you until later," she told the big black girl as she closed the kitchen door.

"Miz Cindy be havin' a guest over," explained Bertha. "Dey sho' do like to be havin' dere fun wit' me. So she tell me to come early."

"What kind of fun?" asked Latessa, with some apprehension in her voice.

"You'll see," laughed Bertha. "Dat woman think she better den us niggas. She jus' love to be rubbin' our faces in it. So do her friends."

"What's funny about that?" Latessa questioned her. "Why do you laugh?"

"Ain't you figger'd it out yet, girl?" The fat negro maid looked right at her. "You seen me wit' Massa Jack. You think I's playin' wit' him?"

"I don't understand," the older black woman insisted.

"Da hell you don't!" Bertha laughed again. "I seen you wit' him, too, girl. You jus' tellin' yo'self he be makin' you do all dat. You love it, jus' like me. You jus' ain't ready to be admittin' it. Dat's all."

Suddenly Miz Cindy's bell could be heard. Bertha left Latessa alone in the kitchen as the big negro girl went to her mistress.

It wasn't true, thought Latessa. Why would anyone want to be treated in that way? She thought back to the days not so long ago when she made presentations to the board of directors. The young white man... what's his name... sitting there next to her putting the charts and graphs up on the overhead projector. Fetching her coffee. 'Yes, ma'am', 'no, ma'am', he'd say. That's how she should be treated. She'd earned it.

How could it be possible that she enjoyed being forced to strip for the entertainment of this white man? To call him Massa and herself nigga. To present herself before him so he could use her body for his pleasure. Why did she feel her pussy getting moist at the very thought of it?

The bell rang again. Latessa hurried to see what the white woman wanted. She was unprepared for the sight that greeted her eyes.

Cindy sat on the couch wearing a light sun dress. She leaned back leisurely, her legs open and resting on something. Bertha. The fat negro maid was on her hands and knees with her head up Cindy's dress. The white woman's legs rested on the big black girl's ass. Latessa could see where Bertha's head was moving under the fabric and Cindy squirmed with delight.

"Go get the coffee ready, girl," she said to Latessa breathlessly, her blue eyes half closed, her face flushed. "My guest will be here soon."

The blonde's body twitched a little and she giggled as Latessa turned back towards the kitchen.

Latessa ground the beans and put them in the coffee maker's filter basket. Cindy was a lesbian? Would the white woman expect her to service her the way Bertha did? It was one thing to be made to be used sexually by the master. But by a woman?

And Cindy, of all women! The stuck up bitch. The white woman took every opportunity to humiliate her. Maybe she wasn't a lesbian, the black maid thought. Maybe it was just more humiliation for her. But either way, she didn't think she could do it and couldn't believe that Bertha could in spite of what the big black girl had told her the previous day.

She heard the doorbell ring, but Latessa continued on with her assigned task. Female laughter could be heard in the other room. Bertha came through the door into the kitchen. Other than her maid's cap she was completely naked.

"What's going on out there?" she asked the big black girl, taking in her nude form.

"Miz Cindy's aunt, Miz Catherine be here," replied Bertha. "She old school. Likes us niggas naked. Don't worry, girl. You kin keep dat dress on 'til dey say to take it off. Bring da coffee when it be ready."

Latessa gathered two coffee cups out of the cupboard and put them on a tray along with a cup of sugar cubes and a little pitcher of cream from the refrigerator. Bertha went back out of the kitchen. The older woman watched the big girl's ass shake as she walked across the dining room until the door swung shut.

In a few minutes the coffee finished brewing and Latessa took the pot to living room. Cindy had been joined on the couch by an older white lady.

Catherine Jefferson had mostly silver hair. She appeared to be quite trim and youthful for a woman who may have been as old as sixty. A petite black girl with very dark skin knelt on the floor next to Catherine's feet. She was no older than twenty and was completely nude except for a plum colored leather collar studded with rhinestones. Her head was bowed and her hair cropped short.

Bertha was in the display position with her back to the two white women who appeared to be examining the welts on the big girl's black ass left by the whupping she'd received the other day at Mr. Andrews' hand.

"I have to admit it, Cindy, that man of yours has a steady hand when it comes to whupping a nigger's ass," said Catherine. "The lines are almost parallel! And so even! Well, except for this one." The white lady chuckled. "I bet this was the good one, wasn't it girl?"

The older white lady ran a finger along one of Bertha's welts.

"Yes'm, Miz Catherine," agreed Bertha, flinching. "Dat be da good one, all right, ma'am."

Cindy, Catherine, and even Bertha looked up as Latessa entered the living room. The kneeling negro girl remained still.

"So this is the new nigger wench Jack is on about," said Catherine. "Why is she wearing clothes?"

"I'm sorry, Aunt Cathy," Cindy apologized. She looked up at Bertha. "Why didn't you tell the new nigger to get undressed?"

The blonde haired woman turned back to her aunt, "I swear, between the two of them I don't know which is dumber. But Jack just can't get enough of either one. What can I do? The fat one means well, but the new one's still uppity. Doesn't know her place yet. She doesn't say anything, but I can see it in her eyes."

"Put the tray down and get out of those clothes this instant, girl," Cindy ordered Latessa. "Whatever do you mean parading around in here wearing clothes like you were something more than just a nigger?"

"I's sorry, Miz Cindy," said Latessa, her face burning with shame.

She quickly put the tray down on the coffee table in front of the couch and removed her clothing. After she was naked she immediately assumed the display position with her legs spread and her hands clasped on her head.

"See what I mean?" Cindy asked Catherine. "You can see it in her eyes. She talks respectful enough, but the eyes show it. She thinks she's somebody. She still needs to learn she's not."

"Hmmm. Turn around and bend over," Catherine ordered Latessa. "Let's have a look at that black ass."

Latessa faced away from the white women and leaned over, her legs still spread. She felt very exposed in this obscene position.

"A little long in the tooth but my, what a nice tight looking bud for such an old nigger," the silver haired woman observed. "Hasn't her asshole been used yet?"

"Not yet," answered the blue eyed woman. "But soon."

"Is she a good pussy licker?" Catherine asked. "The uppity ones hate that. Maybe that's why I like to make them do it so much!"

Cindy laughed. "I don't know. Haven't tried her out yet."

Latessa felt her face flush. Listening to these two white woman discussing her this way right in front her shamed her. The notion that she'd put her mouth on another woman's vagina was not attractive to her. So she was confused by some of the feelings the idea was stirring inside her.

"Do you think Jack would mind if I marked her up a bit?" asked the older white woman, eagerly eyeing Latessa's backside.

"Sorry, Aunt Cathy," said Cindy. "He hasn't whupped her yet, and if he isn't the first to put a few stripes on her black ass I'll never hear the end of it. After that, though, no problem. We can make a day of it once he's had his fun with her."

"Pity," sighed Catherine wistfully.

"Go fetch the hair brush, Bertha," Cindy ordered the big black girl.

"Yes'm, Miz Cindy," replied Bertha. "Right away, ma'am."

Bertha immediately left, heading for the master bedroom.

"Well, he can't object to you warming her ass up a little and you are my guest," Cindy told her aunt and smiled.

"Why thank you, sweety!" said the white lady happily. "See, it's things like that that make you my favorite niece!"

Catherine looked up at Latessa and patted her lap. "All right, girl. Up on the couch and lay yourself across my lap like a good nigger."

Latessa swallowed hard before she stepped to the couch, avoiding the kneeling negro girl. Not entirely sure why she was complying with this humiliation, she lay face down so that her pelvis was across the older white woman's lap. Catherine was sitting so close to her niece that the black woman's head was on the blonde girl's thigh.

Bertha returned with a wooden handled hair brush and handed it to Catherine.

"How can you say she's uppity, Cindy?" asked the silver haired woman. "Look how obedient she's being now. Offering that sweet black ass to me so I can warm it up."

Cindy ran her hand through Latessa's hair. "Oh she's an uppity nigger all right, Aunt Cathy. Aren't you, girl?"

The black maid didn't know what to say to that. Latessa knew she was going to feel that brush on her ass no matter what she said.

Whap!

"Ow!" she cried.

Whap!

"Ow!"

For an older woman, Catherine had plenty of arm strength.

Whap!

Whap!

Tears formed in Latessa's dark brown eyes and rolled down her face.

Whap! Whap!

The blows were really starting to hurt Latessa as Catherine kept striking her in the same place over and over. The black maid's cries ran together into loud moaning and she sobbed into Cindy's thigh.

Whap! Whap! Whap!

The sound of the hair brush on Latessa's flesh rang off the walls.

The blonde girl kept gently stroking the black woman's hair.

"Shhh," she said softly to her, "shhh, girl. Be brave." With her other hand Cindy caressed Latessa's bare back. "It'll all be over soon. This is for your own good. You must learn your place. We can't have an uppity nigger serving us. You have to understand that."

Whap! Whap!

Finally Catherine felt that Latessa had had enough or perhaps her arm was too tired to continue. The older white lady put down the brush and gently caressed the black woman's butt. Latessa could smell Cindy's excitement and could feel her own.

"Mmmm," signed Catherine, "she's heated up nicely. And she took it very well. No struggling or anything." She slipped her hand between Latessa's legs. "Oh, my! She's sopping wet! You're wrong, sweety. No uppity nigger loves to be spanked this much. This girl knows her place. Don't you, girl?" She addressed this last question to the black maid.

"Yes'm" she sniveled, her eyes red from crying. "Dis nigga know her place fo' sho'."

"See, Cindy," said Catherine softly, "she's so sweet. Couldn't you just eat her up?"

"Well, maybe I misread her," allowed the blonde woman. "She does seem sweet now. But I think the hair brush might have more to do with that than you think, Aunt Cathy."

"Okay, girl," Catherine said, "I don't care what my niece says, I think you're a good girl and a good nigger."

Latessa felt the older woman's hand begin to rub her wet black pussy. She felt her other hand caressing her sore ass. Cindy continued rubbing her head with one hand and her back with the other. After the beating she took, she welcomed the pleasure she was now receiving in spite of the humiliating position she was in. A minute or two of this treatment and she began to buck her hips against Catherine's hand and softly whimpering.

"Oh, how sweet!" the older white woman said quietly to her niece. "Your nigger girl is humping against my hand!"

Catherine increased the pressure and speed of her attention to the black woman's cunt. Latessa responded by pushing back against each stroke as she felt her pleasure mounting. Her whimpering replaced by moans of pleasure.

"Ma'am," she murmured. "Kin dis nigga cum now?"

"Yes, girl," cooed Catherine. "You may cum for us like a good nigger should."

"Ah!" cried Latessa quietly as her body stiffened slightly. "Oh! Ah. Ahhh..."

Catherine withdrew her hand which was coated with Latessa's cum.

"Here you are, girl," the silver haired woman said.

She offered her hand to the kneeling negro girl in the plum colored collar, who eagerly lapped it clean and then kissed it. The girl looked up into her mistress's face seeking a sign of approval. She cast her eyes down and smiled bashfully when Catherine nodded to her.

"Okay, time to get up," the white lady said to Latessa. "Fun's over for now."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Latessa, remembering her place. "Thank you for makin' dis nigga cum so good. I's so grateful."

"You're very welcome," the silver haired woman smiled at her. "You're a fine negress."

The black woman got back onto her feet, her legs a little shaky. She reassumed the display position. She wanted to demonstrate her obedience and willingness to please the older woman in return for the pleasure she'd received at her hand. She could see Bertha standing next to the couch wearing a slight smile on her face. Cindy's face was unreadable as she looked straight at Latessa. Catherine was beaming.

"See, Cindy," Catherine said to her niece. "No uppity nigger acts like this. She's like a big black kitty cat. How can you not love her? Just look at her!"

The white woman noticed the negro girl kneeling at her feet was now eyeing Latessa's glistening sex and inner thighs. "All right, Lucy," Catherine told her, "you can have a taste."

The kneeling negro girl smiled bashfully and fell to all fours. Lucy crawled to where Latessa was standing and, like an eager puppy, lapped her vagina as well as where her thighs were wet with her juices. Latessa could barely stay on her feet, the girl's soft tongue felt so good to her.

Finally sated, Lucy returned to her mistress and knelt at her feet. Catherine reached out and stroked the girl's short nappy hair.

"Well, I think we should be running along now, Cindy," her aunt said at last. "I love your new nigger. Uppity! The very idea! She's almost as well behaved as Lucy is! I hope Jack hurries up with all of his silly 'firsts' with her so we can have some fun."

Catherine turned to Lucy. "Go fetch your coat and put in on, girl. We're going outside. It's a shame to cover that fine nigger body of yours, but we have to abide by social conventions. Pity, really, if you ask me."

Lucy went on her hands and knees across the carpet and over the flagstones. She only stood when she reached the coat closet. She took out a long purple cloth coat that matched her collar and put it on. She opened the front door as Catherine approached and then followed her out of the house, closing the door behind them.

"Bertha, leave us," ordered Cindy. "I want a private word with Tessa."

"Yes, ma'am," replied the big black girl, who turned and went off in the direction of the kitchen.

"Well, you've got Aunt Cathy convinced," Cindy said, looking up at Latessa. "I think I've been too harsh with you. I just had such a hard time believing that an intelligent, educated woman like you could go from such an important, responsible job to being a simple house maid who only concerns herself with cooking, cleaning, and pleasuring her master and mistress."

"I imagined myself in your position," the white woman went on, "and I knew I'd resent my situation and despise those who I found myself serving. But I think we're both learning the truth about you. You love serving Jack. I think you may even grow to like serving me, in spite of yourself."

"I was wrong to try to put you in your place by insulting you," Cindy admitted. "You truly are a natural nigger. Just like Jack says. Aunt Cathy agrees. And so do I. Now, it's just a question for you. So, let's see. Tell me what you are."

The black maid looked at the floor. She was conflicted. Was it possible that the white woman was sorry for being mean to her? Latessa considered what Cindy had said and saw the truth in it. She had been resentful of the situation, and perhaps she still was. But she did love serving Jack even though she knew it was degrading. The humiliation she felt even served to arouse her. What other explanation could there be for it?

Cindy looked at Latessa, waiting for her reply.

"I'm a nigger, ma'am," she said quietly.

"Excuse me?" said Cindy. "I didn't hear you."

Latessa looked up into the white woman's face. She could feel her pussy tingling as much as she'd willed it not to.

"I'm a nigger, ma'am," she said in a clear voice. "Just a nigger."

The blue eyed woman smiled at her and hiked up her dress revealing a small patch of blonde hair at the top of her pink pussy. She spread her legs without breaking eye contact with the black maid.

"Eat me, nigger." she ordered. "Get down on your knees and eat my white pussy. Show me how good you want to be."

This was the moment of truth, thought Latessa. Up until now the thought of sex with another woman disgusted her. But another woman had just given her an orgasm that she was still glowing from. Lucy's tongue had left her weak kneed. Why shouldn't she go all the way and give the pleasure she had received?

She still didn't want to like Cindy. But somehow, after she'd revealed a little about herself, Latessa saw the white woman in a different light. Not to mention the fact that seeing her spread out like that in front of her made the black maid want to taste her, to see how sweet that pink pussy was.

Latessa got down on her knees and moved her head between the white woman's legs. She could smell the blonde's excitement, her scent was strong and tangy. The black maid inhaled deeply to fill herself with it. She tentatively poked her tongue out and touched Cindy's pink pussy. It was soft and warm. She ran her tongue up her slit and tasted her. She was vaguely salty and very musky.

She lapped at Cindy's sex again, deep into the white girl's slit. Latessa could feel how wet she was and how her thighs squeezed tighter as the black woman's tongue went over her clit. Gradually the negro maid began to discard her inhibitions and licked and sucked on her mistress's pussy the way she herself liked to be licked and sucked.

Cindy moaned with pleasure.

"Mmmm, girl," the white girl murmured, "and I thought you didn't like women. You're doin' just fine."

Latessa could feel the blonde woman's hips bucking as she rubbed her cunt on her black maid's face. Faster and faster, the negro woman could tell her mistress was close and began alternating between thrusting her tongue in her vagina and sucking on her pussy lips.

"Ohhh... Ahhh..." moaned Cindy.

Cindy wasn't a screamer. The white girl gushed into the black woman's face as she climaxed. She didn't release Latessa's head from the grip of her thighs until several minutes after her spasms subsided.

"Stand up, girl," sighed the blonde woman. "Let me see your shinin' face."

Latessa stood, her hands at her sides, her eyes downcast. What had she just done? She knew she'd given pleasure to the white woman. But what choice did she have? The tingle between her own legs was a perfectly natural reaction to sexual stimulation. Nothing to be ashamed of...

"You are quite the pussy licker," Cindy laughed. "A natural. Run along and fix my lunch now that you've had yours. And one more thing... Let's keep our little discussion between ourselves. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied Latessa. "I ain't gonna tell nobody, ma'am."

"Good girl, Tessa," smiled Cindy. "I'm glad we understand each other."

* * *

That night Latessa lay awake long after her husband had fallen asleep. She could still taste Cindy's pussy and smell her scent. She could also feel her own wetness. It was almost as if she was more than a servant to the white couple. She was becoming a slave to her own desires. Desires she had suppressed so deeply for so long that she'd forgotten they even existed. But now, they were all coming back to the surface.

Chapter 7 - Family Service

Tom no longer felt like he was driving Latessa to work anymore. As the black couple went down the suburban street to the Andrews' place he realized he was delivering his wife to her master and mistress. He glanced over at her staring out the side window.

Latessa had crossed that same boundary days earlier. She'd come to think of herself as her master's servant much more than her husband's wife. But why shouldn't she feel that way, she thought? She felt she was the property of her white master. Mr. Andrews was free to use her as he saw fit. Mrs. Andrews, too.

She let herself in through the kitchen door just as the sun was rising. She was surprised to see Bobby, Jack's son, sitting at the kitchen table wearing a bathrobe.

"Massa Bobby!" she said, "Why you up so early?"

"Hello, Tessa," he said, grinning at the black maid. "I've been waiting for you."

Latessa was used to having the first hour or so after she arrived at the house to herself. The change in the routine was unsettling.

"You want breakfast now, sir?" she asked.

"That's not why I'm down here," he responded. He paused. "I know what my father does with you."

Latessa felt a tightness inside herself. Her face was suddenly hot. This boy knew of the shameful things she'd done with Jack? The shameful things that had given her such pleasure?

"I don't know what you mean, sir," she lied.

"Yes you do," he replied, his grin broadening. "He fucks you. I know he does. He fucks all the niggers who work here. He fucks Bertha. He fucked Gladys. He's fucking you. Don't deny it."

Latessa's cheeks were burning. She couldn't believe this white boy was talking to her like this. She couldn't say anything or even look at him.

"And now, I'm going to fuck you," he stated. "Just like I fuck Bertha. Just like I fucked Gladys."

"No, sir," she objected. "That isn't right. A young man like you. How can you say that to me? I'm old enough to be your mama!"

"You're a nigger," he replied. "And niggers are for fuckin'. So I only wanna use you for your intended purpose. Nothin' wrong with that."

"Massa Bobby!" she exclaimed, her shock starting to be replaced with mounting anger.

She was no whore to be used by this white boy. Yes, Latessa realized, maybe she had allowed things to go that far with his father. And his step mother. Her anger started turning to shame as she reflected on her transformation from management professional to house servant to... to what she was now.

"Don't act all shocked," he said. "You know it's true. You know what you are."

"I'm sorry, Massa Bobby," she said. "What would your daddy think if he heard you talkin' like this?"

"My daddy!" he laughed. "Who do you think taught me all that? 'Don't you go messin' with those white girls, boy,' he'd say, 'that's what the niggers are for.' I know some of the girls at school are sluts, but I have to respect the white girls. My father's right that messin' around with them is trouble waitin' to happen. But I want some pussy. And you're a nigger. So give it up!"

"This is shameful, Massa Bobby," she replied. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say any of that and that this never happened. I think you should leave me get to my work and not come back until breakfast time."

"Are you tellin' me what to do, nigger?" Bobby stopped smiling. "Don't you ever do that again! How about I tell that husband of yours what you've been up to here? Suckin' my father's dick like a cheap whore. You want that? I think I'd get a laugh out of it. I'd rather just stick my dick in you, but the look on his face would be classic."

Latessa didn't want this boy telling Tom anything. She knew that she'd already told her husband a little of what was going on, but she felt pretty sure that he was still in denial about it and didn't really believe it. That would change if Bobby rubbed his face in it. Her back was to the wall, or maybe more precisely, on the floor.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said, hanging her head. She could feel a lump in her throat and tears in her eyes. "What do you want me to do."

"Well, that's more like it." he said with a satisfied tone in his voice. "I think the way to start is for you to get out of those clothes. I've been imaginin' what you must look like naked for too long. Now I want to see for myself."

"Right here?" Latessa was shocked.

Megan would be down shortly. She didn't want the eighteen year old to walk in on her brother using the family maid.

"Right here, sir, nigger," he said with a sneer. "You keep forgettin' your place. Maybe I oughtta fuck you in the ass just to remind you of what you are. But, yeah. Strip. Right here. Do it."

Latessa could feel her hands shaking as she untied her apron and started for the zipper on the back of her work dress. She was a grown woman after all, she thought. The mother of an eighteen year old. And here this boy who could be one of her daughter's classmates was ordering her out of her clothes so he could use her body. This was the greatest humiliation yet for the new black maid. Tears of utter shame rolled down her cheeks as she let the dress fall to the floor.

Bobby, meanwhile, was loving every second of it. Latessa could see that his robe was open. The white boy's cock was standing at attention. His eyes glazed as he watched the humiliated negro strip off her clothes and her dignity for his amusement.

She pulled her slip over her head and dropped it on the floor on top of her work dress and apron. Latessa was down to her bra and panties now.

"Massa, Bobby," she pleaded, "there's still time for you stop this. Please don't make me do this. I'd do anything else you wanted. Your sister could walk in on us. Please, Massa Bobby."

"Megan?" he laughed. "It wouldn't be the first time! She came down here once when I had Gladys down on all fours like a dog right where you're standin' now. Had my cock right up her fuckin' nigger ass, if I recall correctly. That snotty bitch Megan just rolled her eyes at me an' walked out. It was fuckin' classic!"

"Now get that fuckin' bra off, bitch," he ordered her. "I wanna see those nigger boobs up close and personal."

The boy may look like a young version of his father, thought the negro maid as she unclasped her bra, but he was mean like his step mother. Latessa continued to weep, shame faced, as she let her bra slip down her arms. The black woman could feel her tears splash on her now exposed breasts.

"Damn!" exclaimed the white boy, "what a rack! Now those are some nice fuckin' hooters! I ask you, why the hell would I want those flat chested white girls at school when I've got a nigger at home with udders like that?"

Finally Latessa took down her panties and stepped out of them.

"Ah, bald nigger coochie!" he said, admiring her smooth shaved pussy. "That's what I like to see! Good old dad. All his niggers got shaved coochies. Now, I know you're supposed to pose for me like a good nigger bitch. So, do it."

Latessa put her hands behind her head and stood with her legs spread in front of the leering white boy. Silent tears continued to roll down her face. Bobby reached out and roughly handled her breasts.

"Yeah, nice udders," he said to himself then looked up into Latessa's wet face. "You're not enjoying this, are you? Don't you know that doesn't matter? Niggers just have to take it."

He grabbed one nipple between the thumb and forefinger of one hand. He used his other hand the same way on her other nipple and squeezed them both, hard. Latessa gasped in pain.

"See, it could be worse," he told her. "All I wanted was some pussy. You thought you didn't have to give it up to me. Now you know better. Don't you, nigger?"

Latessa nodded her head. He squeezed her nipples harder and twisted them. She cried out.

"I asked if you knew better," he repeated. "Answer me, bitch!"

"Yes, Massa Bobby," she replied, trying not to have her pain and humiliation show in her voice. "I know better. You're hurting me."

"Damn straight!" he said, his eyes shining. "It's supposed to hurt, bitch!" He looked more closely into the black maid's face. "Are you crying now?", he asked. "I think you are." He paused and then the grin crept back onto his face. "Now I want you