Dee Teaches BBC 101

This one-off story follows on after ‘The Temptations of Dee’.

Afternoon Tea

Dee parked her new Odyssey in the lot outside of the little diner. It was her third time back here but her first in eight months. She had already decided that it would probably be her last. Time had moved on and people had moved on with it. She knew that as much as anyone could. If she didn’t see her this time then she would have to accept that the young woman had changed jobs. There would still be a chance that she might phone.

Except that she hadn’t phoned and it had been almost a year and a half. A very eventful year and a half. Dee smiled to herself as she locked her vehicle and walked across to the diner, feeling the breeze on her arms and her calves. Short sleeves and a skirt had most definitely been the way to go. She was looking forward to her iced tea. If the diner hadn’t been so out of her way she might have come here for them anyway. Well – perhaps not. This area was so, er, white. It seemed strange to be around so many white folks nowadays. Well, not so much white folks as white men.

Her phone buzzed and she smiled as she read the message.

“My calendar says we due to meet next week. What ‘s yo thinkin. S.”

Shaka was very reliable. He also wasn’t wasting any time. He was claiming what she had promised him – it would be her fifth and last child and it would be his. Her fingers flew on the screen.

“How about the Thursday? I’ll line up a house-sitter. Fingers crossed.”

“No rush babe. I’ll be enjoying the process. S.”

Dee giggled. She knew that she would enjoy it too. Somewhat masochistic of her some might say. Having just enjoyed two months feeling very much like a beached whale followed by six months as the personal body servant of a very demanding, but also utterly adorable, little tyrant.

That was why it felt so good to be out and about again. She had resumed work this week and it had felt so amazing to be back teaching – even if perhaps not for long. It was fortunate that Tubman High had such excellent child-care facilities and such a generous maternity leave policy. Fortunate but perhaps not surprising when you understood what that Taylor Foundation logo on the school signage really meant.

Through the last six months there had been three things that kept nagging at her mind. First, the desire to teach again. Second, her little arrangement with Shaka. Third, a desire to get back to this diner.

Of course she could just ask. Something like, “Excuse me but that attractive young server who worked here. The one who showed an interest in going Black. Could you pass me her details and forwarding address?” On second thoughts that was probably not an option.

It WAS nagging at her though. It had been an important moment. Her body-clock meant that this next child, Shaka’s child, would certainly be her last. Then her role in the life-style would be a different one. An ‘influencer’, a ‘facilitator’, an ‘enabler’ or, to use the old term for all three, a teacher. The first person she had really had a chance to influence and enable was that shy young server. She could still remember how the girl had blushed when they’d caught her staring at them. How she’d taken Dee’s number and her invitation to call if she wanted to act on the desires that all three of them knew she had.

Then – nothing. No phone call and on two later visits to the diner Dee hadn’t seen the girl. It was a frustration and a real shame. A lovely girl like that shouldn’t be wasting her time with white boys.

Dee entered the diner trying not to smirk to herself at that last thought. This lifestyle did give you thoughts that you’d never previously have imagined yourself having. What the heck – it also provided plenty of house-sitters and ‘aunties’ who helped look after the children.

The diner was reasonably busy. Dee saw a server operating but immediately felt disappointment. There were a couple of small tables free towards the rear. She took a seat at one and watched.

The server had noticed her and went to a door. She spoke through it and almost shrugged her shoulders. Then the door swung shut only to open thirty seconds later and reveal another server, her face just adopting the professional smile as she tied her apron. The servers were dressed alike – a white blouse over a knee-length black skirt with a white apron tied in front. Hooters or Twin Peeks this was not.

Dee smiled. She would know the girl anywhere. Everything about that evening and night were burned into her memory. The server reached into a pocket of her apron and pulled out a pad. Only then did she look up to take in Dee and suddenly her professional smile was gone if only for a moment. In that moment her face showed shock and surprise. It seemed she had recognised Dee too.

The girl took up position and gave a little clear of her throat. “Er, good afternoon, What can I get you?”

Was the girl choosing not to recognise her or didn’t she trust her recognition? Dee hadn’t come this far not to find out.

“It’s good to see you again. You never gave me that phone-call.”

The girl blushed and glanced across to make sure she wasn’t being watched before saying, “I meant to but then it seemed kind of crazy you know and then when I thought maybe I should I thought it was too late…”

The words had rushed out of her and Dee suddenly realised, with a real sense of responsibility, that the girl had been desperately hoping to see her again too.

“Well,” Dee glanced at the girl’s name-card, “Helen. You go get me one of this place’s delicious iced teas and a slider I can write out my number for you again. If you’d like it?”

Helen glanced across to make sure she wasn’t being watched again and then she nodded.

The slider really was very good and that iced tea hit the spot like little else could on a hot day like that one. When Helen returned with the check Dee gave her the money plus a tip plus her number. She had also been thinking. She didn’t want any more slips-ups or to have to rely on the girl having the courage to phone.

It had been over a year since Dee had enjoyed a night out. Emily had offered to look after the youngsters but up to now she hadn’t quite felt like it. She had been in full-on mommy mood and she almost certainly soon would be again. Seeing the excitement and nervousness in young Helen’s eyes had made her mind up for her.

“Are you working tomorrow Helen?”

“Only the lunch-time shift.”

“That’s good because I’m working the morning too. You’d be free for four o’clock?”

The girl’s eyes were fixed on Dee. She wasn’t checking to see if she was being watched anymore. All good signs.

“Where can we meet – I mean NOT here. Somewhere we can have a real talk. Without being spied on or overheard.”

Now it was Helen’s turn to write a note. She’d just completed it when she saw her boss waving an imperious hand at her. She gave a last smile before moving off back to the kitchens.

Cards on the Table

It wasn’t the swankiest of joints but then Helen was probably not exactly rolling in spare cash. Its clientele was less family-orientated than the diner where she worked, rather more relaxed.

Dee had left the Odyssey at home and borrowed Emily’s old clunker for the evening. She wasn’t sure where the night might take her and this Nissan had several advantages for certain areas. It was a very reliable vehicle but definitely not the top of anyone’s list to steal. The Taylor Foundation logo in the window made that pretty unlikely but why tempt fate with a new Odyssey!

In the back of her mind she’d been wondering whether Helen would show up but she was soon put straight on that score. Dee got there five minutes early but Helen was already waiting for her outside and waved when Dee walked up.

Helen wasn’t alone. A young man was with her and apparently trying to talk her ear off. Dee understood that wave now – not so much a signal of location as a cry for help.

He was a good six feet tall and might have been quite handsome without the ginger neck-beard. Also without the breathtakingly arrogant tone of voice that reached Dee long before she reached them. He might as well have had ‘asshole’ tattooed on his fore-head.

It took him a while but suddenly he realised Helen’s attention wasn’t on him any more and he turned. His lip curled up when he saw Dee. “Oh shit it looks like this old bitch is looking for you. Well – don’t worry. I’ll be staying around. Once you’ve got rid of her you can come out with me and we’ll have some fun.”

Well what a charmer!

“Actually Chad – this is my Mom.”

Oh it just got better and better! She couldn’t have passed for an older sister? But there you were – she actually was just about old enough to be the girl’s mother. Anyway she could forgive Helen if it worked in getting rid of the douche-bag.

You’ve just called a girl’s mom an ‘old bitch’ by mistake. That should cause some embarrassment yes? Probably you should go and find a stone to hide under? Not this guy. A flicker of annoyance had crossed his face but nothing more. Now he’d moved away and was glaring at them. Frustrated white boy privilege in every aspect of him.

The expression on Helen’s face was priceless as she greeted Dee. It was wicked but Dee couldn’t resist – and besides Helen deserved it after that ‘Mom’ comment.

“That your boyfriend?”

Helen suddenly had a look like she was chewing a wasp. “He’s been trying to be for six months now. Chad thinks he’s God’s gift you know. He uses his trust fund to slum around here and pretend he’s a player. You’d think any man who wants to get to know me would have worked out that me and my Mom do NOT meet up any more.”

“Sorry – I didn’t mean to raise bad memories.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “My folks are part of the Brethren – you’ve heard of them. Well – anyway you’ll know a hundred congregations like them. They didn’t approve of anyone asking questions and they DEFINITELY didn’t like young women doing it. I’m not even talking about wanting to go to College…”

“But you still went.”

“Yeah, I still went and I haven’t really talked to them since. Only got shouted at if I ever tried. Not much of a loss for them – they still have seven children. They can afford to let one go to the Devil.”

Dee had to reappraise her view of the girl. That had taken some courage and some guts. She couldn’t have imagined doing the same thing herself at that age.

“Where were you from?”

“Stebson County over in the coal-fields. Which is why I knew real early that I wanted to get out of there.”

Dee recognised the name though she had never been there – why would she have? One of those communities left behind by the decline of coal. A steadily rising average age of population and a steadily falling average income. Federal and State governments seemed to have given up on them long ago. Long slow decline until the opiate epidemic had proved that things really could get much worse really fast. Places like that held together, if they held together at all, by strong self-identification and in those areas that almost always meant religion.

It was always a shock to realise that places like that were geographically quite close but a world away. If you grew up there then you knew your future and accepted it or you left.

“That must have been tough…”

“I don’t regret it for a moment but it IS tough. Even with my scholarship and my loan I’m working five evening shifts a week and sometimes some lunch-times too.” Then I have to find the time to study! First year was hard, second year was tough, this year is a bitch. It doesn’t help that others have it a lot easier and can’t resist telling me about it ALL the time.” She cast a venomous glance at Chad.

Dee examined the girl as she was speaking. She was twenty or twenty-one but she had courage. She was making her own way and taking her own decisions. If she made mistakes then they were HER mistakes. Yes, she had courage but some steps apparently were still too daunting. It was time to get down to why they were both there.

“I figured you’d found yourself a nice white-bread boyfriend…”

The girl’s mouth tightened a little and Dee knew that she had guessed right.

“…so you’ll know whether I was right about them all being a waste of time.”

It hadn’t taken Sherlock Holmes to work that out. The girl was really very attractive. Those deep brown eyes and that long chestnut hair set against her fair skin. A body that was trim but curved in all the right places. The vitality and freshness of youth. Dee could guess that Helen had received a LOT of attention from the likes of Chad.

Helen gave a little grunt of annoyance. “I tried – when I had a little more time. They just don’t… you know… I even, um,” she leaned forward and whispered, “I even, er, tried it with a girlfriend. It just… you know.” She raised her palms and then let her hands fall back to the table.

Dee reached forward and put one of her hands onto one of the girl’s. “That’s because you weren’t following what your body was telling you. You kept looking in the wrong places. You know that don’t you?”

“I’ve always, yunno, found them hot, I mean attractive. In a way that other boys just aren’t. But it was when I saw you and your husband that something sort of clicked.

‘Them.’ Even now, talking to Dee, she was apparently still scared to spell out her true desires. Well the first part of her education was learning to do just that. The first thing Dee needed to know was whether the girl was willing to do it.

“That wasn’t my husband. Bill was one of my lovers and he is now my baby-daddy.” Dee noticed that Helen’s eyes were focused on her with laser precision. The girl had a blush on her cheeks and the tip of her tongue moved across her upper lip, as if her mouth was dry. But she didn’t stand up or run away, she didn’t show shock or outrage. Dee felt safe to go a little further, well a lot further.

She toyed with her wedding ring. “I only still wear this because a lot of Black men like to know they are fucking a white man’s wife. My marriage effectively ended the first time that I made love to Shaka, the first time that I was fucked properly, which means the first time that I was fucked by a Black man. From that moment, no matter how much I might have wanted to fight it, there was never going to be any way back.”

“Once you go Black – you can never go back.” Helen spoke in a low tone, almost as if she was reciting a sacred text.

Dee shook her head. “For myself and my friends it was more like – ‘Once you go Black you never want to go back.’ Never, ever.”

Helen’s teeth gently bit the top of her lower lip. Dee knew the signs – hadn’t she been there once herself. Wanting it so much but agonising over taking that first crucial step. It would be even harder for Helen. Up there in the coal-fields was as white an area as you got in the whole country. What did this girl know of African-Americans? Only what she was told by her parents, her pastor and the media, probably Fox News.

Some things were easier to shake than others. That was why when she’d escaped her stifling home the girl had come here and not to the city itself. It was more free and more diverse but not TOO free or diverse. Not TOO new and frightening. What to Dee had been dull and suffocating had to Helen seemed the sweet scent of liberty, even working most hours that God sent her. Or it had for a time.

“When I gave you my number last time you weren’t ready yet. Are you ready now?” Dee was pretty certain she knew what the answer would be. Helen was here wasn’t she?

“Yes – I’m ready.”

Dee smiled. “So I just need to know what you prefer – vanilla or hot sauce?”

“I think I’ve had my fill of vanilla.”

Dee nodded. “Well if it gets too hot for you tonight then let me know and we’ll ease things back some.”

The girl’s mouth tightened a touch and her chin came up a little. Dee recognised that sign too. Helen had got used to making her decisions and then living by them. She would not be inclined to back down once she had started. That meant tonight promised to be a LOT of fun.

Suddenly Helen’s face fell a little, the determination draining away in an instant. “What if, um, if they don’t…”

Ah, youth had its strengths but also its weaknesses and insecurities. Did this beautiful young girl really doubt that the men she desired would also desire her? That was easily solved.

Dee pulled out her phone and took a picture of Helen then her fingers flew on the screen for a few seconds. The picture sent to six of her old friends with a request for comments.

It didn’t take long. She had turned the screen so they could both watch the responses come in.

Odell: “Oh shit but that dime is fly. You gonna introduce us?”

Bill: “If I was thirty years younger that little honey wouldn’t be getting out of bed for a week.”

Pops: “Now that just about made my day. When you gonna bring that fine piece round?”

Tamika: “I’m working tonight. You know where. You two should come visit.”

Antwan: “Hmmn hmmmmnnnnnnn. That girl got free membership at all my clubs you hear. She’ll bring the brothas from miles around.”

One hadn’t responded but Dee knew that he wouldn’t settle for a message. Meanwhile Dee had been watching Helen, seeing the blood come to her cheeks and the sparkle come into her eyes. Helen’s mother would have called this the ‘forbidden fruit.’ Her daughter would be biting deep into it tonight and savouring the sweetness of its juice.

The phone rang. Well if it was the forbidden fruit then this caller had to be the devil. Helen’s mother probably would have thought that he was. Dee knew better, a lot better. She stood up and signalled to Helen to follow suit.

As soon as they were out of the place Dee put her phone on speaker.

“Hey babe.”

“Hey – what did you think of that little photo I sent you.”

A low laugh came through the speaker. “Got a pulse and a big Black cock ain’t I? How you think I feel about it. Shit – she just like you. Way too fine for any cracka, just built from the ground up for the Black man’s pleasure.”

Dee couldn’t help almost laughing at the expression on Helen’s face. Shaka could be a little full-on at first. But the girl wasn’t running away and those beautiful brown eyes of hers were still sparkling, still hungry.

“Got a favor to ask.”

“Sure – so long as you give me her number.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be concentrating on ME for the next little while?”

“Oh yeah – and you can KNOW that I’m looking forward to it too. But I know how inviting that little white pussy of yours is – how it just forces a Black man to fill it with his nigga nut. I don’t think its going to take us long to get that belly of yours growing again.”

Dee winked at Helen who now had her hand over her open mouth, a picture of shock. But she STILL wasn’t running away.

“Well maybe, once you’ve given me my baby I’ll THINK about putting you in touch with Helen here. But first – that favor?”

Shaka laughed again. “Sure…”

“My new friend here is just getting into the lifestyle. I’m thinking of taking her on a road-trip tonight. Can she wear your hoops – just in case?”

“Where you thinking of being at?”

Dee listed a few places.

Shaka named three of them back to her. “If she’s serious about it then they’ll show her all she needs to see. You were going by Leez’s?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll ask her to supply your girl with my hoops. I’ll talk to Tom – make sure he’s ready for you. Not that word about you two wouldn’t get out at warp speed.” He laughed again. “Have fun baby.”

“We will Shaka – thanks again.”

“Shit you know I’ll do anything for my girls.”

The connection ended.

“Who was that?” Helen’s voice was amazed but also excited.

“Oh that was Shaka – he’s a sweetheart and an amazing fuck. With his hoops people will know not to mess with us and others will be making SURE no-one messes with us. Unless, of course, we want them to.”

Helen just shook her head a little, but in wonder rather than denial. At that moment Dee knew that she had understood Helen correctly and that she had played the situation just right. Coming from Helen’s background just being seen with a Black man was way beyond the pale. It made that first step a huge one but once that step was taken then the momentum could carry a girl a long way. Helen had been thinking about this for a long time and now the realisation that she was finally going to act on her desires was fuelling her determination to do just that.

“Ok,” said Dee, “time for us to get started.” She looked Helen up and down. “Of course you look good in that outfit but you aren’t exactly dressed to impress and that’s what we need to do. You aren’t going to be playing around with white boys any more. Talking of which…”

Chad had come to the door and was looking at them – obviously expecting Dee to leave so that he could swoop in.

“Time to wave your old life goodbye.”

Helen did just that. Her face broke into a broad warm smile and she waved to Chad before walking to the vehicle. Dee followed her a second later having just had time to see Chad raise a hand in response. Chad did not have a warm beautiful smile. Chad looked confused, frustrated and angry. Chad was not happy but then losers seldom are.

Leez and Izeye

Dee had got so used to the city that she took many things as a given nowadays. As the landscape grew more urban so you saw more graffiti, more neglect and more people. As you changed neighborhood first the faces were usually white, then there was a mix and then they were nearly all African-American. To Dee that was as expected and as usual as the sun rising and setting. One glance across told her that Helen did not feel quite the same way.

With her background and current circumstances it was quite possible that Helen was in the ‘minority’ for the first time. She looked a little nervous as well as excited. Well that showed sound common sense. Their situation carried dangers as well as opportunities. Which was why they needed to make their first call.

The little cluster of stores looked much as it did the first time Dee had come here. It was something of a rite of passage in their lifestyle. Being shown off for Leez’s inspection. They were no sooner through the door before…

“Hey Dee – good to see you again. This the one that Shaka told me about?” Leez had a broad open face and a no nonsense attitude. “She got some potential but she ain’t helping herself.” She gave an almost theatrical shake of the head. “That sort of outfit might have been alright for the crackas but it won’t cut it where my girl Dee’s gonna be taking you. What you think Dee – we get her a travelling outfit and then one for later?”

“Sounds right.”

Helen suddenly looked very worried. “I don’t have much…”

Leez’s business-like demeanour reasserted itself. “Don’t be worrying about that. Had a call from Mr Taylor. I forget which program this is coming out of – probably something to do with urban regeneration.” All the time her eyes were measuring up Helen and assessing her strengths and potential weaknesses. “Bringing beauty and amenities to the ghetto and by the time I’m done you gonna qualify on both counts.”

Leez had a certain clientele. The girls going out clubbing and also the girls for whom attracting male attention was a more professional concern. The business sent her way from Mr Taylor was a very juicy cherry on top of the cake.

“You been a dancer?” Leez asked as she competed her visual assessment.

Helen smiled. “I used to love dancing but this year I don’t have the time.”

“Find it,” said Leez in a matter of fact tone. “Builds up the muscle tone in your thighs and yo’ butt. You pretty good for a cracka back there and with some work well you’ll notice Phat-assed white girls are real popular round here. What you think Dee – this a job for LaTreya?”

Dee nodded. She had absolutely no doubt that her formidable personal trainer would love the task. She’d make the introduction if this evening went well.

Leez stepped up and pulled Helen’s top tight to her bust. “Yeah, I thought so. Girl if you got it then you gotta learn to flaunt it. Can’t be wearing this baggy shit and hiding your potential. How you with heels?”

“I don’t really wear…”

“What the fuck’s the education system coming to. Well I’ll set you up for now but a little more tone in that butt and the wiggle from a pair of heels will get you a LOT of attention and JUST the sort of attention you’re seeking. I’m telling you and you can listen to me cos old Leez has got eyes in her head and knows what she’s talking about.” The Black woman nodded and then turned to her racks of clothing.

Helen gave Dee a rather startled look as Leez began collecting items.

Dee just gave a reassuring smile and a nod back. Leez wasn’t wrong – she had a real good eye.

The African-American woman was soon back and thrust an armful of clothing at Helen. “Room’s back there – when you come out I only want to see you in these you understand.”

“Yes Leez,” said Helen and meekly went to the door suggested.

“I thought the customer was always right,” teased Dee.

“Shit,” said Leez in disgust. “Nowadays they’re teaching them not to look good for a man. Like it’s some kind of a insult if someone tells them they look hot as fuck. Fuck that! You cracka girls is going down to the ghetto then you best be going on the ghetto’s terms. But then YOU know that.” Leez gave Dee a sly smile

Yes, Dee knew that very well. It wasn’t so long since she hadn’t but you learned fast in this lifestyle.

The outside door opened.

“After you,” came a deep voice.

Dee saw Izeye holding open the door with one big Black hand. Two white women in their early twenties walked in and each gave a little jump and giggle as they walked by him. Dee had a strong notion what his other hand had been up to. A suspicion confirmed when the second girl paused to stick her butt out at the big man. Izeye smiled and moved a little closer as the girl gave a wiggle at him before giggling and moving into the store.

Leez took no notice of her husband. At first you could think that the wives were beaten down into accepting their men’s actions. Dee had come to learn the truth was rather different. Leez and most of the other Black wives had a zero tolerance of their men cheating. It was just that white girls didn’t count as cheating. They were no threat, no challenge to Leez’s status. They were amusements for Izeye while she was his life partner. Besides, Leez sometimes enjoyed joining in his fun and games.

Helen emerged holding her black leather jacket closed. “Err Leez, I think you forgot…”

“I didn’t forget shit – drop them hands and lets see how you’re looking.”

Leez was wearing a pair of kitten-heeled thigh-high boots. There was then a flash of bare skin before a short tight denim skirt. Above that she wore her black leather jacket which now opened a little to show a sheer transparent dark sleeve-less top underneath. The girl turned at a signal from Leez and as she did so a hard young nipple was clearly visible through the transparent material of her top.

“You was a dancer – well touch your toes this way and away from us.”

Helen obeyed, despite the fact that the tight skirt slightly restricted her movements. Dee saw the flash of white lace as she bent over away from them. For a moment she tried to remember the last time she’d worn panties under a skirt on a night out. Still – Helen was only a beginner.

“What do you think hon,” Leez aked her husband.

Izeye nodded. “Real nice but it’d be better with heeled boots maybe.”

Leez gave Helen a significant look. Dee didn’t doubt that the girl had taken the lesson.

“That’ll do you for travelling – now I’m gonna see to my other customers while you try on that other outfit.”

***

When Leez returned she gave a little smile of triumph. “Yeah, I knew that would look good. Kinda goes with Dee here too. The respectable high-class MILF with her slutty little daughter. You two are going to be REAL popular.”

“Preach it baby,” said Izeye with a low chuckle

Was it really asking too much to be an older sister?! Ah well, Dee knew that they were right. The men would love that idea and to be honest, deep down, Dee rather liked it too.

Leez was soon back helping her other customers while Helen changed back into her ‘travelling’ outfit.

“Pretty isn’t she,” Dee asked Izeye.

“She is – but I know what you’re doing.”

She cast him an enquiring glance with a half-smile on her lips.

“She’s real pretty but I’d go for her hot ‘mom’ EVERY time.”

Was it shallow of Dee to feel so pleased? Well, she didn’t care if it was! Izeye’s words made her feel very good. So good that she almost forgot their last errand.

Only once she had helped Helen fit on her big gaudy hoop ear-rings with the ‘S’ in brilliants for Shaka were they really ready to leave.

Taking Up Dancing Again

Dee knew how self-aware Helen was feeling as they went further into the city. These neighborhoods were almost entirely African-American and Helen was well-aware how sexy her outfit was. White girls only came to these parts dressed like that for one thing. She knew that and yet she was going.

Dee smiled. Helen might think this was the ghetto but there were tougher parts of the Capital and this was Beverley Hills compared to certain parts of H-Town. She’d picked their itinerary carefully and the next stage would be a step up, but still on safe ground.

She had only been there once herself, as a prelude to a night with several fit young Black men. A little celebration for their completing their adult education course with her. That night had been quite an Adult Education for her too!

The place was nothing special, just a relatively small building with no advertising save for the large African-American man leaning supposedly nonchalantly by the entrance.

“You got a new job?” said Dee with delight.

The man laughed. “Just giving my man Kareem a chance to get a drink. Besides I wanted to make sure my girls got here OK.”

Helen looked at Dee with a confused look on her face. Dee reached over and touched her new friend’s hoop ear-ring.

“You’re wearing his bling so you’re one of his girls – at least for tonight. That right Shaka?”

“Shit she can be one of my girls ANY night she likes. Now Dee time you gave yo future baby-daddy some sugar.”

Dee moved into his strong arms and felt her usual exhilaration as his mouth found hers, their lips parting and tongues meeting. It always felt so good to be with Shaka. He had been her first – he had been the one to teach her how things really were. Just as she was now going to teach Helen.

Poor Helen! She had gone so red in the face when Shaka had basically told her that he wanted to fuck her. Dee wondered if she had ever felt that embarrassed – probably she had. That was why she knew that Helen would soon learn to get over it. If all went to plan she’d have very little room for such nonsense after tonight. She’d have learned that to savour life’s pleasures you needed to be ready to reach out and grasp them.

The door opened to a blast of noise, voices almost drowned out by the heavy beat of a powerful sound system.

“They here? Oh fuck! Where YOU been hiding baby?” It seemed Kareem liked the look of Helen. “You ain’t losing your eye for talent Shaka.”

“Just met her,” said Shaka nonchalantly. “My little bitch Dee found this one.”

Helen’s cheeks were red again, her eyes fixed on Kareem’s powerful frame and bulging muscles.

Kareem’s eyes were on Dee now. “So this is Dee. I should have realised! I only know her by reputation but I’m hoping I can put that right real soon.”

Dee wondered if she was blushing too now. Probably not but she felt that little extra charge of heat through her body. It was so good to be desired by a man like this, such an affirmation of her sexual being. That was the real lesson Helen would be learning tonight and it was a lesson that never ever got old.

Shaka ran several clubs but when you walked through the door you could tell this wasn’t one of them. The smell of weed was too strong for that. The room wasn’t that small but it was very crowded and noisy. Dee felt rather than saw the eyes turned onto her and Helen. She knew that the young girl was feeling it too. A quick glance showed that they were the only whites in the rough-and-ready club. As they moved forward Dee felt the men moving in behind her. They were drawing attention but not so much as the little makeshift stage.

A girl was dancing on a raised area in the middle of the space. She was a dark-skinned Latina – already naked save for a garter and a tiny g-string. The space around her platform was crowded with men, all of them African-American or Black Hispanic. Wads of notes were being waved at her from every direction and she danced from side to side to collect her tribute. Singles would be thrown on stage as she danced or twerked. The girl knew what her audience liked and was extremely well-equipped to provide it.

It was Tamika dancing up on stage there and Dee remembered her other time here and knew again that she had chosen rightly for Helen’s education.

Fives and tens were permitted to be tucked into Tamika’s garter – which meant some fine close-up action for the lucky benefactor. Hands stroking the smooth coffee skin – a fortunate or generous man was allowed a kiss or to put his head between her breasts. Then, with graceful ease, she swirled back out into the centre of her platform.

Tamika was a pro – beautiful and graceful and magnificently mercenary. A long floral tattoo ran all the way down one leg. She worked her crowd with skill. Her eyes ran over them looking for her next green. As they swept her audience she saw the new arrivals. She gave an ecstatic grin and pointed..

Dee and Shaka were each side of Helen as they moved slowly forward through the crowd and towards the stage. At that gesture from the dancer Dee felt Helen give a little shiver but there was no hesitation in her movement forward. Did the girl know or even suspect what would happen on that platform? Dee knew and for a moment wished that she was again where Helen was, about to experience the next few minutes for the first time.

Tamika’s athletic body was above them when they reached the stage. She again reached out an arm. As Dee helped Shaka ease Helen forward the last couple of steps she felt that she was making an offering, a sacrifice to a vital goddess of beauty and sexuality, a goddess whose avatar was the athletically powerful form of Tamika. Happily Dee knew the ‘victim’ in this particular rite stood to lose nothing but potentially to gain much. Just as she herself had.

The ‘victim’ also had to be willing. Helen’s hesitation was momentary and then she held her hand up to meet Tamika’s. The strong brown fingers grasped her wrist and Tamika easily pulled Helen up onto the stage in one fluid motion. The two girls were of about the same height but Tamika had the power and grace of a professional dancer.

The roar from the crowd was huge, a roar of joy and anticipation. Some had seen Tamika ‘initiate’ a white girl before, others had only heard about it. All were excited to see tonight’s performance. That wall of noise, even drowning out the music, seemed to shock Helen more than anything that had happened so far. She froze up there on stage.

Dee was very close, looking straight up at the two young women. She saw Tamika’s wonderful amber eyes find the frightened brown ones of Helen and capture them. Tamika’s mouth framed words.

‘Give yourself to me.’

The white girl swallowed, her body seeming to shake as if caught in a breeze. All her anticipations and desires and fears surging through her body. Dee knew that in that instant Helen had forgotten her and Shaka and the club and the crowd and the whole world. At that moment there was only Tamika. Again she felt a pang that she herself would not feel that again but also joy at what was to come for her new friend and pupil.

Tamika’s lips moved again, any sound lost in the bedlam of music and shouts and cheers.

‘Give yourself and find yourself.’

Helen’s eyes were wide and staring, her mouth opened a little as if to speak and then she gave an almost imperceptible nod. Tamika moved forward and claimed her, there was no other possible description of the way that her hungry mouth closed on Helen’s. Even as her tongue explored and met the girl’s so Tamika had begun pushing off Helen’s jacket and then dropping it to the floor where Shaka collected it.

The noise only increased a notch as Helen’s see-through top was revealed, her breasts barely concealed.

“Damn,” Dee heard Shaka’s voice. “She been hiding them. Gotta be 34D.” Dee had no definite information on that but she took her man’s word for it – he was something of an expert in such matters. Whatever the measurements – on the girl’s slim frame her breasts looked amazing.

Tamika’s strong hand closed firmly first on one breast and then on the other, her mouth still locked onto Helen’s. Finally she broke and smiled. Again her lips moved, again the seemingly silent communication with her new partner.

‘Now – we dance!’

As they arrived Tamika had been dancing for the men, displaying her agility and flexibility, stressing her beautiful rounded butt. Now she danced for Helen but in the full knowledge that her men would relish the spectacle.

Whoever was running the music had helped by transitioning to a powerful fast heavy beat with no vocals. Dee had heard it a time or two before in the clubs. She’d asked Odell once what it was called.

“Lost in the ghetto,” said Odell with a smile that showed his gold tooth.

Dee had an idea that nearly everyone in that club knew that ‘Lost in the Ghetto’ was playing and understood the significance. Understood it and relished it. The only one not to know was Helen and what did she need to know it for? She was experiencing it.

Tamika was dancing now, her every move focused on Helen and slowly, slowly, the white girl responded, her movements hesitant and stiff at first but then becoming more fluid and natural.

Tamika was like a panther, the embodiment of sleek grace and power. Helen could not quite compete but you could see that she had learned dance too. Dee had to admit that Helen was probably doing better than she had on the night that she had first met Tamika. Not that it mattered to the crowd. The dancing was just the prelude, the first act of Tamika’s performance. That was what they had come to see.

Tamika moved around Helen pressing her firm brown breasts against the girl. Then she paused in front of her once more and her lips moved.

‘Now – my skin on your skin. Give yourself fully.’

Helen understood and her last fears seemed blasted away by her dancing with Tamika. Her hands dropped to her top and in one motion she pulled it up and over her head. The men in the club roared and whistled their approval again but Dee wasn’t sure that Helen heard them. Maybe they were the cause of the excitement and desire radiating from Helen’s face and her every move but Dee doubted it. She thought Tamika’s little nod of approval was the more likely candidate.

Now Tamika moved close again and this time it was as it had to be, ancient and fundamental. Brown skin on white skin, brown breast against white breast, brown mouth and white mouth locked together in a deep passion. Tamika broke their kiss only to drop her head down as if to devour Helen’s left tit. Her mouth sucked voraciously as her tongue worked. Then the right – leaving Helen’s left breast gleaming with saliva, her nipple standing hard and proud.

Soon they were dancing again but both topless now, firm breasts exposed and moving to the rhythmn of their movements. Tamika prowled around her prey and then moved in behind her – pressing her breasts into Helen’s back. Her hand moved round onto the white belly and then down, forcing its way into the tight denim skirt. Another roar from the crowd and suddenly Helen was looking at them as if realising their existence for the first time in many minutes. A glow had come onto her skin, both from the exertion of exercise and from her thrill at the crowd’s reaction.

Dee felt Shaka’s strong right arm holding her as they both watched the stage. She knew what Helen was feeling now. “She’ll do,” said Shaka his mouth against her ear, “you found a good one there.” Dee felt pleasure at his words – a new sort of pleasure but a very real and strong one for all that.

Tamika’s hand had explored and now it reappeared to expertly undo Helen’s skirt before the Latina dancer slipped down to ease the garment with her. Helen stepped out of the skirt and was left wearing only her boots, her panties and, of course, Shaka’s hoops. She was like putty in Tamika’s hands now, pliable clay to be moulded as the Latina desired.

Tamika put a hand behind Helen’s back and then moved. The white girl was swept down until her shoulders were on the floor. As Tamika stood again she held Helen’s legs pulling them up and apart. Then her hands moved up to grasp the white material of the white panties and her face pushed forward. Helen’s mouth was open now, a mixture of surprise and desire. Tamika’s sharp strong teeth closed on the white material before her hands pulled the panties down. Tamika’s head moved forward again and her face found the neatly-trimmed area between Helen’s legs. The white girl’s head went back and her mouth opened but the roaring of the crowd and the heavy music beat left her scream of pleasure only a ghost upon the air.

Strong brown fingers worked white breasts and nipples, an exquisitely skilled tongue explored and exploited young white pussy. Dee saw Helen’s legs begin to shake and then her whole body. Had no-one done that for her before? Certainly no-one as skilled as Tamika.

“You want more – make it rain,” shouted Tamika, her fingers making the symbol of falling rain-drops. They couldn’t have heard her but they knew that signal. Dollar bills had been thrown onto the stage before, joining those already half-covering the stage – but now there was a wave of currency. Men were throwing handfuls onto the stage and the beautiful Latina nodded her approval.

Another swift movement of Tamika’s and the women were now lying together, head to tail. Tamika was already at work while Helen hesitated – her vision filled with shaved Puerto Rican pussy. Another key moment and another test successfully passed. Helen pushed her mouth down and began trying to give pleasure for pleasure. She reached her hands up to hold the Latina’s big butt in place, to hungrily taste and savour her sex.

After perhaps a minute Tamika easily broke the girl’s grasp, her strong dancer’s legs pushing her up. Then she put her hands on her thighs as she stood above Helen, wiggling and thrusting her big butt and drawing more waves of dollar bills thrown onto the stage.

Tamika kept dipping herself down and pushing her exposed pussy closer and closer to Helen. Finally Helen could stand it no more. She tried to push her head and then her tongue up to meet Tamika, tried to grasp her and pull her down. Tamika’s strength was too much for her, taunting her with her own desires

Another swift movement of the dancer and Tamika stood up and away – signalling to the edge of the stage. Another roar went up from those in the crowd who had seen her perform before. A man’s leather belt was handed to her and she moved back to where Helen was getting to her feet, each step punctuated by the heavy beat of the soundtrack.

Tamika grasped the girl from behind and held her, kissing her neck and throat as her hands moved round to cup Helen’s tits. For a brief moment Helen’s wide-open eyes met Dee’s. Dee saw it all there – the realisation and the desire – just as she herself had felt it. She smiled and nodded but knew that Helen wouldn’t see it. Helen was entirely bound up in what Tamika was doing for her, what Tamika was exposing within her.

The brown lips were at Helen’s ear now, probably still having to shout in the cacophony but the message was received. Helen sank to her knees and bowed her head as Tamika put the belt around her neck and then tightened it to act as a make-shift collar. Tamika held up her hand and another object was tossed to her. She leaned down and, with Helen’s assistance, pulled the garter up onto the girl’s pale thigh.

It was so typical of Tamika. The symbolic and the practical. Helen had given herself by accepting the belt as a collar, everyone there knew it and not least Helen herself. The garter was for the next and last part of their performance. It was time to get paid.

“You remember that…”

Dee heard Shaka’s words in her ear and she did remember. Seeing Helen brought it back with intense vividness. Being led on hands and knees around the stage to collect the men’s tribute. Currency thrust into the garter belt, exploring hands reaching for her body. Rough hands fondling her breasts, seeking but never quite reaching her pussy. The feel of the currency notes against her bare skin.

That gave Dee a new thought and she spoke it into Shaka’s ear.

Now Tamika was standing at the center of the stage holding out her hands, encouraging a last little blizzard of dollar bills while Helen sat at her feet. The Latina seemed to be drinking in the waves of noise coming from the crowd, acknowledging their acceptance that there really was no dancer quite like her. Two club security were collecting up the bills as the two women finally moved over to Shaka and Dee.

The music was cranked down a little. Dee felt a slight sympathy as she saw an African-American girl get on stage. It had to be rough to have to follow Tamika.

Helen still looked a little dazed, her cheeks flushed and her mouth open a little to suck in oxygen. Tamika reached down to take the huge bundle of currency from her garter.

“My girl Dee here didn’t need the money but Helen there could use some of that green. Fifty-fifty.” Shaka’s voice was the model of reason.

“Bull-SHIT.” It seemed Tamika didn’t agree. “It’s my experience and MY skill that makes it rain. Think this one could have made all this green on her own? She peeled off six bills. I’ll pay her 300 dollars.”

Shaka gently shook his head. “Sixty-forty in your favor. You telling me this fine piece didn’t bulk out the take. When’s the last time you done so well?”

Tamika paused and then smiled her predatory mercenary little smile. “Sixty-forty but I work three other clubs too. I want her to come perform with me at those too. Same terms. Sixty-forty.” She turned her beautiful amber eyes back onto Helen. “A deal my new little white slut? Also after we dance we can…” She left the sentance unfinished but the way her eyes travelled over Helen’s almost naked body left little doubt what Tamika was suggesting.

“Yes, yes please.” blurted out Helen. It sounded ridiculous but no-one laughed. Instead they went back to the little room behind the club where the take was counted and a couple of thousand dollars were handed to Shaka.

Dee saw Helen’s eyes following the money, she knew what it meant to her.

“It’ll be safe?” asked the girl.

“It’ll be safe,” assured Dee.

“Gonna get time-off from that job of yours to work with Tamika?” Shaka was all business.

“Oh…” said Helen, it seemed she had forgotten all about the necessities of her old life.

Shaka took out his phone and selected a contact.

“Hey man – it’s Shaka… Doing real fine, just been watching Bobo’s piece down here… It don’t get old I’ll say that… Listen, you still needing servers down there… I dunno about that, maybe so. But I do know she’s a good server and sometimes she ain’t shy.” He winked at Helen who suddenly seemed to realise she was near naked and began putting on her clothes. “She out with my girl tonight but how about tomorrow?… Cool my girl will bring her by.”

Shaka found a piece of paper and handed it to Helen. “Put your address down and Dee will collect you tomorrow. Take you over to see my friend Theo. I think you’ll enjoy working for him. Unless, of course, you too much in love with your current place?”

“Fuck no,” said Helen.

Shaka smiled. “One thing I can promise is that plenty of brothas will tip real well if they got a sweet little white thing like you serving. Also, Theo is a good man. Serving is all you’ll be expected to do – so long as you wants it that way.”

Helen looked at him and then at the money. Dee knew what she was thinking. Was this a new door of opportunity opening for her or was it a net closing in around her to cut off her chances of retreat. Dee knew that it was both and willed the girl to take her chance.

Helen nodded.

“Cool,” smiled Shaka, “now you two best be moving. I like the way my ice looks on you Helen – especially when it’s about all you’re wearing. Next time I see it we’ll have to be more private so I can show you JUST how much I like it.”

Shaka was an imposing, powerful handsome man. Again Dee knew just how Helen felt – the realisation that a man like that desired her. She saw the flush on Helen’s cheeks and then her guilty glance at Dee. Well after all Dee WAS Shaka’s girl.

Dee smiled. “I was fifteen years older than you are when Shaka showed me how things are. Fifteen years wasted on white boys and one white boy in particular. It took Shaka to teach me how a real man can make love to a woman, how a real man can fuck his woman. Believe me – none of Shaka’s girls have any complaints.”

Helen smiled, her teeth biting her lower lip. Shaka’s hand cupped her butt as he bent down to kiss her, their tongues soon meeting in the eternal dance of intimacy.

Shaka knew he could fuck the sweet little piece there and then. That’d complete her education. She wouldn’t be going back to her old life or to white boys after that. But Dee had her own plans and Shaka had come to relish that certain naughty streak that he had uncovered in her. Shit – he remembered what a timid white-bread soccer mom she’d been when he’d first met her. Now she was hot as fuck – a legend around certain parts of two cities. He was very satisfied to know that soon her belly would be bulging with his child – a strong handsome son or another beautiful coffee-skinned daughter. Helen would be a very welcome addition to his ‘girls’ but Dee – she was something special even for a man as versed and experienced in the lifestyle as Shaka.

He gave Helen a sharp slap on her back-side, enjoyed her little yelp of surprise. “Time’s wasting girl – time you and Dee got back on the road.”

Putting on A Show

Helen’s attitude was different on the next step of their journey. Now curiosity and anticipation definitely out-weighed nervousness. Ironic since their destination now was distinctly more notorious – whether fairly or otherwise. They skirted the Capital and then the suburbs of the two cities that now linked up in many places. Finally they reached the low-rise largely industrial outskirts of H-Town.

Some things were changing here. There had been a ‘clean-up’ campaign and there was even gentrification now in some parts according to the press. However, in this district there remained acres of empty space used as parking lots. The interval between deindustrialisation and regeneration had still to run its course apparently.

The large one-story building had recently been somewhat extended. It wasn’t the only change in only the last couple of years. The old garish neon signs advertising ‘XXX DVDs and ‘VIDEO BOOTHS’ had all gone. Now there were just two signs. ‘TOM’S SPORTS BAR.’ and ‘ADULTS ONLY.’ So it was true – she just hoped the rest she had heard was true or this would have been a wasted journey.

She led the way into the building and found it much-changed. The old displays of DVDs, fetish outfits and sex toys had all gone. Instead there was a long bar and big -screen TVs showing basketball games. There were maybe forty patrons in and a few turned to watch Dee and Helen as they walked in.

“Hey Dee!” The white guy behind the bar threw up a hand in welcome. He was in his early forties, rather over-weight and with a chin-strap beard.

Dee returned his warm smile. At least some things seemed eternal. Mo and that awful beard were a real fixture of this place.

“Quite a change,” she said.

Mo just rolled his eyes to the heavens. “Tell me about it. I was worried when the ‘clean-up’ drive began but Tom just said to watch and see. This must be Helen.” His eyes flicked over to the younger woman. “Are you 21?”

“Twenty,” admitted Helen.

“Just as well you didn’t come for a drink then,” said Mo, “the authorities are VERY strict at the moment. Makes my job hell. Half the kids from miles around just want to get one past poor old Mo. They have to get up pretty early tho.”

Dee was pleased Mo was there. He was a good guy, very loyal to Tom and absolutely trust-worthy. His line of inconsequential banter was also helpful to put Helen at ease.

A few things had caught Helen’s attention since walking into the bar. First, all of the customers were African-American and male. Second, the only white faces there were Mo and his assistant, a girl about the same age as Helen, who were looking after the bar. Third, most notably, above the bar was a sign.

‘Your staff tonight’

‘Mo and Britney’

That wasn’t what had captured her attention – it was more the other, unmarked, board.

‘Anna (plus one) and Eilidh.’

Then a chalked line and below that,

‘Dee and Helen (new)

Mo saw the girl looking and chuckled. “That ‘new’ always draws some attention but Tom’s been putting the word to a few regulars just in case.”

Helen looked at Dee as if seeking some clarification. Dee couldn’t really help.

“Mo – you might have to help me out. Last time I was here this was still the Porn store remember – with the booths out the back.”

Mo lifted a hand again – this time in acknowledgement. “Of course – sorry. I forgot. The Council decided they weren’t having any nasty perverted porn stores in this sector and certainly not our friends next door.” Dee knew he meant the gay side of the business. “Not that it mattered so much because that business was dying – the glory-holes had been keeping us afloat for years.”

“Glory-holes?” said Helen.

“Yeah,” chuckled Mo, “I could tell you some stories! Anyway, now we are a respectable bar and nothing to do with such goings-on.”

“Shame,” said Dee.

“Yeah, a shame indeed. Nowadays such disgraceful activities could only take place in a private club, not an officially licensed premises like us. Jessica Lyons came over and advised us. Who’d have thought it. We were always liable to a raid and there were some strict rules back in the day even if they weren’t always followed. These new clubs are just private concerns – no licensing and none of them special rules and regulations.”

Jess – Dee’s former pupil who was now a leading lawyer in the Capital. Now Dee understood. “So Mo – where does the bar end and the club start?”

Mo winked, his fat face crinkling as he smiled. “Absolutely no connection. Tom only owns ourselves and the gay bar on the other side of the building. The extension out back was built and is leased out by some big outfit in the Capital. Nothing to do with us…”

Dee had a sneaky suspicion who that land-lord might be, even if only via six or seven shell companies.

…despite the shared passage-way.” Mo tilted his head towards a door at the back of the bar.

The main door opened and five or six more Black men walked in. They took seats in a booth but Dee and Helen were both very aware of their eyes checking them out. It seemed Tom had indeed been getting the word around.

“Can we get changed?” asked Dee.

‘Sure.” Mo’s piggy-little eyes squinted at the clock on the wall. “Anna and her friend should be about finishing up. Knock out back and Marquis’ll look after you.”

Dee knew that out back had once been the line of video booths, most with a glory-hole cut through to connect it with a neighbour. Now she found only a tiled corridor with rest-rooms on one side of it. At the end was a door with a stern ‘Private. Members Only’ notice. Hanging below it was a sign ‘Next admittance’ and a blank space before a chalked ‘P.M.’.

Dee glanced at Helen. The girl looked nervous again. Dee didn’t blame her. This was new for her too. However, she liked not knowing what lay ahead.

Dee knocked on the door and after a moment it opened to reveal a young African-American who was built like the proverbial brick out-house. Whereas Mo was big and flabby this man was big and toned. His muscular arms were shown off to fine effect by his muscle-shirt and Dee noticed the full-sleeve tattoos down both arms.

The man smiled. “Well you ain’t no disappointment. My friend Jess told me you were something special Teach.”

Dee returned his smile. So this was THAT Marquis. Jessica had told her a thing or two about him too and that meant tonight promised to be VERY interesting.

“I know one thing – the brotha at that club was talking BS on the phone. Ain’t no way you’re really Mom and Daughter. Sisters maybe…”

Dee had a feeling that she was going to like Marquis!

“Members only here. You girls members?” Marquis asked Helen with a stern expression on his face.

“Errr…. no.”

Marquis laughed. “Soon be settlin’ that. ” He stood aside and they entered a short continuation of the passage-way as the big man closed the door behind hem.

“Got three grades. Ordinary membership – accessed from that cracka place next door. Gold Membership for the brothas – accessed from Tom’s through this door. Platinum membership for men meeting the requirements and of course for premium pussy of all shades.”

“So do we qualify?” asked Dee with a knowing look.

Marquis just chuckled. “Guess we find out fo’ sure tonight don’t we but I ain’t in much doubt.”

“Helen needs to change,” said Dee.

Marquis eyes looked the girl up and down, pausing to drink in her beauty. Helen seemed to give a little shiver. Dee knew how she felt. This wasn’t like being eyed or chatted up by white boys. Drawing the interest of a man like Marquis was on another level. He didn’t hide what he wanted from her or his confidence that he could give her what she was needing even as he took what he desired.

Marquis opened a door. “Change in there girl. I’ll give Dee here a little tour – let her know what’s on offer. We’ll be back in ten.”

***

“Oh fuck,” said Marquis in an almost hushed tone. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

Helen’s eyes were sparkling as she turned herself for his examination. It was obvious that she was enjoying his reaction. Her fingers toyed with her black neck-tie.

Leez had chosen to play off the fact that Dee was a teacher when she had selected Helen’s outfit, one normally used by some of the girls when supplying certain fetish services.

Helen was wearing a short-sleeved white blouse though ‘wearing’ might only have been half accurate. The buttons of the blouse had been removed and it was held in place only by the lower portion being tied into a knot. Bar a wide black neck-tie loosely tied around her neck Helen’s cleavage was left temptingly on display and her midriff was also bare under the knotted white material. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbow leaving her forearms bare. Her skirt was plaid and reached barely halfway down her thighs leaving the tops of her black stockings exposed.

“Teacher and student eh,” said Marquis, “seen it done before but never done better.” He looked Helen up and down with an appraising and approving scrutiny. “Like to see a white girl in heels myself.”

“It’s her first time,” explained Dee, “she’ll be practising in heels so she’ll have them next time. That’s right isn’t it Helen.”

The girl nodded. She seemed transfixed by Marquis’s scrutiny, the interest the big man was showing in her. He wasn’t hired for security for nothing. He was a big powerful man, a presence capable of dominating any situation.

“First time, eh. You wearing a thong under there?” Marquis pointed at the short plaid skirt.

Helen nodded – seemingly tongue-tied.

“Wrong…” was all Marquis said before he clicked his fingers and held his hand out.

Dee watched as Helen grasped the meaning of that gesture. Marquis was a man of few words but he generally got his point across. He also wasn’t playing games – he wanted to know if Helen was for real.

The hesitation was momentary and then Helen reached up under her skirt and eased down her thong before handing it over to Marquis. Dee thought he would smile but he only nodded his approval.

“Thass better.”

There was a knock on the door. Now Marquis smiled. “Thass yo’ crowd showing up. best you get next door.” He nodded towards the other door and Dee knew to take charge.

“We’ll be seeing you later?”

“Believe it,” said Marquis and for a moment his attention was all on Dee. It wasn’t a new sensation for her – being admired by a powerful Black man. But still it sent the shivers of desire through her body

***

Dee led Helen through and into a room, the door of which clicked shut behind them. It was a space about half the size of the stage Helen had shared with Tamika earlier on. The lighting was clear but not harsh. The long walls of the room were white and even knowing its secret Dee had to look carefully for the evidence of it.

“Are you ready?” she asked Helen.

“For what?”

“To perform of course. Let me take the lead.” Dee walked to the far wall and pressed a button before turning a dial to introduce a low-level of music.

Dee paused a moment to catch the rhythmn and then let the music take her. She began to dance on the spot, still wearing her teaching outfit of jacket, blouse and knee-length skirt. Not exactly the regulation clubbing outfit but she knew that plenty of men liked to see a woman who could be their past teacher or their current boss. Helen stood to the side, still waiting to understand what would happen, watching.

Soon Helen wasn’t the only one. With a sliding sound a slot opened in the far wall and then another and then another. Dee turned as she danced and saw slots opening behind them too. Behind those slots was darkness but as she accustomed to that fact Dee caught the glimpse of other eyes out there, hungry eyes watching her. All the time there was that sliding noise as more slots opened, more men came to check out Dee and the new girl.

Dee took a circuit of the room and got her bearings just as Marquis had suggested. Close up you could see the detail. On one side of the room the eyes staring through the slots were blue, grey or brown. On the other they were brown, deep brown or almost black.

That was the division of course. On one side were white men and on the other African-Americans. On one side ordinary members and on the other gold ones. On one side men enjoying the show and on the other men who might have a more direct input to make later on.

Dee moved across to Helen and grasped her waist lightly. “You told me you could dance – well its time to dance baby,” she whispered into the younger woman’s ear, “our men are on the right so show them how you want them. But leave the clothes on…”

Helen began to move, strutting up and down in front of the right side of peep-holes. She wiggled her tits and ass for the men, flicked her skirt to reveal flashes of pale thigh and brazenly licked her fingers in front of them. It seemed she had learned plenty from watching Tamika and it seemed that her viewers approved. Under the low music they heard a new sound. The sound of men’s voices.

“You a fine, fine, little piece.”

“Move that butt girl.”

“Show us them titties.”

“Get back over here bitch.”

“Suck that finger ho.”

All punctuated by shouts and whistles of approval. Dee was dancing herself but still had time to glance across and see Helen. The girl’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes shining as she drank in the men’s approval and their expressions of desire for her. Helen knew what those men wanted and she was rejoicing at the fact, rejoicing in her feminine power over them. Savouring the potential to surrender herself to them.

Dee smiled as she continued her own dance. It was OK for Helen to have her fun but the poor little white boys deserved a show too. The slots all needed money to open and then to stay open but the price tag was much much, higher on the ordinary members side. ‘Cracka tax’ as Marquis had subtly put it. Each clang of the peep-slots was a few more dollars in the take, paying the rent and paying the talent.

Helen looked like the ‘talent’ now. Flaunting herself before the gaze of the unseen men, rejoicing in the beauty of her fit young body. Taunting the viewers with just how good she could make them feel. She looked in her element but Dee was aware that the younger woman still had a lot to learn.

Dee moved slowly back to the side of the room and turned down the music.

“Young lady!” she barked out in her strictest didactic tones. Helen had still been swaying to the remembered beat but now stood still – her attention on Dee. “I’ve been hearing some very unsatisfactory things about you. Are they true?”

“Dunno Miss,” replied Helen.

“Really,” replied Dee as she reached Helen. She placed her finger onto Helen’s lips. “Tell me who has been enjoying this sweet mouth. Black men or white boys?”

Helen dropped her eyes to the floor, joining in the performance. “I’m sorry miss, white boys miss.”

Dee shook her head and clicked her tongue in disappointment. She moved up her hands and untied the knot that tied the girl’s blouse in place.

“Fuck yeah,” said a voice chorused by more shouts of approval.

“What about these perfect young titties,” asked Dee as she cupped them in her hands, “who has been enjoying these? Real men or weak little white boys.”

“Only white men miss,” replied Helen, “but they weren’t very good. They couldn’t make me feel like you do miss.”

Dee almost giggled – just about remembering that she was playing the strict teacher. Helen was getting into her part!

“Hmmmn,” said Dee stepping back, “and what about that pussy. The same sad story?”

Helen hung her head in feigned shame. “Yes miss, sorry miss, she’s only had white dick miss.”

“Show me.”

There was no hesitation – after all Helen had recently been naked on stage before a whole crowd of cheering men. She reached down for the hem of her short skirt and then pulled it up to reveal her neatly-trimmed pussy.

Again a growl of muffled voices from the men watching.

Dee twirled her finger and Helen carefully turned a few circle ensuring that all the men could see her sex.

“Did it feel good?” Dee moved back up close to Helen.

“Sometimes – well, I mean, sometimes it was OK.”

Dee raised her fingers to Helen’s mouth. The girl’s lips parted and allowed one, two, three, fingers to enter. Dee pushed them in, feeling the girl’s tongue working to make her fingers wet.

When she was satisfied Dee took her fingers out of Helen’s mouth and dropped them down to her pussy. Wet fingers and a pleasingly wet pussy meant that first one, then two and finally three fingers found their way inside.

“This pussy has been neglected hasn’t it. Such a pretty little pink pussy – just crying out for big hard Black cock. That’s right isn’t it.”

“Yes miss,” gasped Helen as she was bending her knees to grant Dee’s fingers deeper access into her sex.

“So you’d best act like it. Get this pussy nice and clean and shaved. Your white boys wear condoms?”

“Yes miss – always miss.”

“Hmmn, at least you did something right. But you’d best get yourself tested and on the pill because our men, real men, don’t like to fuck latex, they like to fuck tight white pussy and they don’t like to pull out.”

“Ahhhhh,” moaned Helen. Dee didn’t know if it was her nimble fingers or her dirty talk that was getting the reaction. She hoped it was both since she took pride in being multi-skilled!

“They like to plant their potent Black seed nice and deep in pretty white girls like you, they like to see them with their belly filled up with a Black man’s baby. Didn’t your folks never warn you about that?”

“Yes miss,” gasped Helen.

Dee nodded. She could imagine it – imagined that they’d told her a lot more over there in Stebson County too. Fear and hatred of the other, whether a real other or just another manufactured one. This girl had broken most of the way out of that mind-set, tonight would help her the rest of the way. Soon she would understand. Much that they had threatened as dire consequences had been the purest BS. The rest, the true results would soon be accepted as rich rewards. It was all a matter of perspective.

“OOOohhhhhhhh,” moaned Helen as Dee’s fingers continued to tease her clit and pussy.

“So then young lady are we ready to get you properly integrated?”

“Yes miss, please miss.”

Dee eased her fingers away from Helen’s pussy and raised them again to her mouth. The two women’s eyes were locked together now, the watching male gaze forgotten in the moment. Helen opened her mouth and began to lick and suck Dee’s fingers clean of her pussy juices.

“From now on – this beautiful mouth needs to be off limits to white boys.”

Dee dropped her head and used her tongue to lick and tease two hard young nipples.

“From now on – these beautiful titties need to be off limits to white boys.”

She dropped her hand down to cup Helen’s sex, her thumb teasing at the younger woman’s clit.

“But most important of all – this tight little white cunt needs to be off limits to white boys. From now on it needs to be Black-only you understand?”

Helen was bending her knees again – trying to force her sex down onto Dee’s teasing hand. Her mouth was open, gasping quick breaths of the warm air.

“From now on,” Dee insisted in a sharp almost growl, “this cunt is nigga-owned. You understand! You promise!”

“Yes, Yes, YEEESSSSSSSS, ” howled Helen as her body shook in Dee’s grasp and her fingers lost their grasp on her skirt.

They could hear the voices again now, hear the hands beating on the walls. The sounds of the men’s approval.

It was time to move next door.

***

The adjoining room was similar but without the peep-slots. Two walls appeared plain and solid – but Dee knew from Marquis that they were two-way mirrors. For a sizable fee white members could gain the right to admittance – to view all that happened inside. On the other walls were slots for viewing and other larger slots, a few inches wide but a couple of feet tall.

It was time to further young Helen’s education. Book-learning was one thing and so were lectures but ultimately there was nothing quite like hands-on vocational experience!

“You ready,” whispered Dee.

“I think so,” said Helen

Dee gave her a smile and then pressed the button on the wall. With a quiet hum the transparent coverings on the long slots in the walls slid down. Now they were left open and within a few seconds the first cock had pushed through, standing Black and proud against the stark white walls. Then there was another and another and another. The four long slots were all occupied now and Dee knew there were other men back there and waiting their turn.

“C’mon now,” said Dee, “these beautiful Big Black Cocks won’t suck themselves. Without waiting for a response she moved over to the wall and took a cock in her mouth while reaching out her arms to begin stroking two others.

“Oh fuck yeah – you must be Shaka’s bitch for sure. They said you got skills and they weren’t frontin’.” The gruff deep voice came through the slot in the wall above her. Dee didn’t pause – she just kept sucking and licking his hard dark meat. Well after all, a girl had a reputation to live up to.

She sensed that Helen had moved up beside her. Dee gave the cock on her right a last stroke and then held it out. A moment and then Helen was beside her and taking hold of one Black cock while starting to suck the other. Her pretty little mouth took in the broad thick Black cock-head and then she was sucking him hard and fast.

“Hey,” said Dee, “ease up. This isn’t a white boy that we just want to get off. This is a beautiful Back cock that we need to cherish and serve. If we please our man then he’ll give us our reward. You know what that is don’t you?”

Helen was still sucking her man – as if once she had started she didn’t ever want to stop. But her pace was slower now, her glances across at Dee followed by attempts to copy her mentor’s technique.

Dee paused and teased her man with her tongue. “You know what the reward is Helen?”

The gruff voice sounded again from the other side of the wall. “Get that hot little bitch over here and I’ll show her.”

Dee pulled off his hard shaft and giggled. She held up the cock as Helen moved in front of it. Helen’s tongue ran round her lips before she opened them to take the cock in. Dee gently rested her hand on the back of Helen’s head – keeping the younger woman there.

“Make it warm and wet Helen – show these men how much you want them, how much you need them.” Helen was responding to the words and the feel of Dee’s hand on her head. Her mouth moved up and down the glistening Black shaft, no longer frantic but controlled and allowing her tongue to please him.

“Fuck yeah – take it girl.” The man grunted and Dee’s hand tightened its hold on Helen’s head, holding her in place. The girl’s eyes widened as she felt his cum spurt into her mouth. This wasn’t the little dribble of jizz that she was used to from her old boyfriends. Instead there were powerful spurts of cum, the proof of just how highly the man behind the wall had rated her efforts.

Dee’s other hand moved round to gently stroke his cock, making sure that Helen got every drop in her mouth. Dee was pleased. Some women would have coughed or tried to spit out the cum. Helen had taken it all – it seemed she was just a natural-born Black cock-sucker, just like Dee herself!

“That’s the reward,” purred Dee, “that beautiful potent Black seed. In your mouth, on your face, over your body or, and this is best of all, deep in that sweet little pussy of yours. Swallow that first load down to show you know what you were born for – pleasing and serving Black men.”

She took her hand off Helen’s head and nodded in approval as Helen swallowed down the cum and then opened her mouth to show it was all gone.

“Hot little slut can bop!” was the reaction as the cock withdrew back out of reach.

Dee wasn’t finished – this was a moment for imparting important messages. “Now his seed is in you and nothing can be the same again. To the white-bread world out there now you are and will always be a slut for Black men, a snow-bunny, a hood rat with jungle fever. To your family you’re… well, you know what they would say. That’s why we want you in your new family, in our lifestyle. Ready to please and serve Black men — ready to be Black-only and when the time comes to be Black-bred. You ready for all that?”

She’d seen the look in Helen’s eyes before she had asked that last question and so she knew what the answer would be. Dee knew the emotions and desires that were rushing through the younger woman’s mind and body. She had been there herself and knew that once you had experienced that then the die was cast. There genuinely was no way back and no desire for one even if there was.

Helen nodded and said, “Yes.”

At that moment a fresh six inches of coal-black cock pushed through the hole right in front of Helen.

Dee looked along the line of four hard Black cocks sticking through the wall. “Looks like we have our work cut out,” she giggled. Dee began to gently stroke one cock while she moved her mouth around another – aware that beside her Helen had already done the same.

***

You can have too much of a good thing but there was nothing quite like a long line of hard cocks to allow a girl to sharpen up her technique. Dee was using all of her skills – making it good and wet and sloppy for her men. Coaxing her tribute in the form of those heavy spurts of cum. Glancing down she saw that her top was wrecked, sticking to her body with moisture. Glancing across she saw that Helen was topless – clever girl! – her beautiful young breasts covered in little streams of cum and drool, the lights of the room reflecting back off her body.

Dee heard the room’s door and glanced across. “Last call,” said Marquis. Get yo’ nut cos these girls have done their hour.” Had it really already been an hour? How many men had there been? Anyhow it had been quite an experience and Dee felt it likely that she’d be back before too long. Judging by the enthusiasm of her performance Helen also wouldn’t be against a repeat visit.

There was a stifled grunt from the other side of the wall and Dee pulled off him so he could shoot his load onto her face. She knew how much guys loved to do that. A giggle to her right told her Helen’s man had just unloaded over her too.

That left just one hard Black cock and the two women moved together towards it. It was time for some teamwork and Helen began licking his shaft even as Dee took the head of his cock into her mouth. It didn’t take long. Soon three heavy spurts of cum were shooting into Dee’s mouth and she was careful to hold it all. Then she gestured to Helen who dropped to her knees in front of Dee. Dee moved her head down until their lips met in a deep kiss – the cum being transferred from one woman’s mouth to the other and then back again.

Dee’s hands gently cupped Helen’s head as their tongues met. She broke their kiss and smiled. Helen understood and swallowed down the cum. The first and last loads. Dee moved in close again and their mouths met once more. Again the thought crashed into Dee’s brain that some of these men thought that Helen was her daughter. It was a wicked thought, a dangerous thought. When her daughters were Helen’s age would she want them to come here – to learn the lessons that Helen had learned?

A dangerous train of thought indeed but it was suddenly dissipated by a familiar sound. The sound of a man’s heavy belt-buckle being first undone and then dropping to the ground. Dee sensed and then felt a big body behind her. Then she felt fingers at the front of her skirt and had only just realised that they were Helen’s before her skirt was falling to the ground. Dee glanced down at her now naked pussy and saw Marquis had moved up close behind her and was now pushing his cock between her legs so that it stood up against her belly.

She had heard talk about Marquis. In her experience Black cocks came in pretty much all sizes but that didn’t mean that there weren’t plenty of men who did indeed have a Big Black Cock. Marquis was a big man and he was clearly built to scale. A thick long cudgel of a cock that was now being lined up to enter Dee’s hungry little pussy.

“Oh,” said Dee. Being told about Marquis still didn’t quite prepare you for seeing him in the flesh. It had to be twelve inches or more long and it was so thick. Weren’t guys with dicks that big supposed to have trouble staying hard. That didn’t seem to be a problem for Marquis – presumably he’d enjoyed their performance as much as Dee and Helen had.

Marquis was a man of few words. He knew he wanted to fuck Dee and he knew that Dee was ready to be fucked. What was there to discuss about it? He pushed the thick head of his cock up and down Dee’s pussy, teasing her and preparing her. That pussy felt warm and wet and if Marquis’s reputation had preceded him so had Dee’s. Marquis had been looking forward to fucking her for a LONG time and he wasn’t inclined to wait another second.

Marquis lined himself up one last time and then pushed the head of his cock into Dee’s pussy. Dee grunted and expelled her breath as she processed the sensation. Marquis was big, very big, almost too big. His cock seemed to already be filling her up after just a couple of gentle thrusts. Dee gasped again and looked up straight into the eyes of Helen, eyes wide with wonder and excitement.