Bernadine Returns to Her Roots | Neal's Home Page | ASSTR Home Page
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.
by Neal
The town hadn't changed much in twenty years, thought Bernadine, as she crossed the bridge on the state highway. She actually had never given much thought to what might be different after all this time since she'd never intended to see it again.
Yet, there she was, along with her two teenage daughters and all of their possessions in tow, heading back to where it all began. She'd been so eager to leave back then. Anxious to go make something of herself. Something better than she ever could have been here.
Bernadine Johnson had recently turned forty two years old, but it was hard to tell from looking at her that she was even close to that age. Perhaps it was because black women aged well, but she did take pride in her appearance. Her hair was black and stylishly short, no gray yet. She had high cheek bones and dark brown eyes. She may have gained a few pounds over the years, but she wore them well and remained quite shapely.
She'd been quite successful since she left after finishing high school. Graduating from the state university with honors. She was actually at the top of her class. Graduate school had been a breeze even though she'd gotten married and had two babies along the way. From there it was off to a rewarding job as an English teacher in a prestigious private high school.
When she accepted the job as principal of a large high school she knew she'd exceeded all expectations. It was unfortunate that her parents hadn't lived to see her crowning achievement. Her sister Jolene had taken no joy in her success either, having stayed behind in the small country town, still living in the family home.
Now that home was the only place Bernadine had left to go. Budget cuts had forced her school closed and she was out of a job. The man she'd married had turned out to be a gambler, and not a very good one. After the divorce she found she had nothing to show for all her hard work other than her car, ruined credit, and a mountain of debts. Her only alternative for a roof over her and her daughters' heads was the old house on the other side of the railroad tracks.
"I can't believe you really lived in a place like this, mama," said her older daughter, Ebony. She adjusted her black framed wire rimmed glasses. "It seems like a place from an old movie."
Ebony was about to start her senior year of high school. Like her mother, she was a smart girl, top of her class. Pretty and slender with dark skin and long braided hair, she was the picture of African beauty. She'd been very popular in her school and wasn't happy about having to leave it to come here, but she understood there was little choice.
"It doesn't seem so bad to me," Taneesha countered. "How come we never came here before?"
A year behind her sister, Taneesha was lighter in complexion and chubbier in build, too. The younger girl wasn't the same star student Ebony was and not nearly as popular, so she wasn't so disappointed about leaving the old school behind.
"I never saw the need to come back," replied Bernadine. "Now we're going to just have make the best of it. Your grandmama and Aunt Jolene are all alone in that old house so there's plenty of space for you two. School starts next week and there just weren't any other options."
Bernadine guided the old Volvo station wagon over the familiar streets, the U-Haul trailer bouncing along behind them. The nice homes with large yards lined the route right up until the the railroad crossing. This was the de-facto line of demarcation between the two parts of town. It had separated the comfortable and white from the poor and black. Judging by the abrupt change in scenery, it still did.
Now the houses were more rustic and ramshackle. Bernadine shivered as they drew near to their destination. She turned down a dirt road and soon she saw the old mailbox with "Cook" barely legible on it. After twenty years, she was back in the place she'd vowed she would never return to. She pulled into the driveway and turned off the motor.
The old house was looking even more beat than she remembered. Even in the fading summer daylight she could tell it was badly in need of paint. The porch sagged and the window in the front door was cracked. The "lawn" mainly consisted of scruffy looking weeds growing up through the hardpan dirt with a scraggly willow tree in the middle..
"This is where you grew up?" asked Ebony incredulously. "It's like a big shack! Are we really going to have to live here?"
"You can just hush, girl!" snapped Bernadine. "I don't like it anymore than you do. But right now, we've got no choice. We won't be staying here any longer than we have to."
Together, they got out of the car. Bernadine went up the steps onto the porch, the weathered boards creaking under her feet. She pressed the doorbell, but it didn't seem to work. Knocking on the door brought no answer. Ebony looked on while Taneesha wandered around the side of the house.
"I don't think they're home, girls," said Bernadine at last. "They're probably still at work. We'll just have to wait."
Ebony put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. Taneesha put her face up to one of the windows on the side of the house to try to see in. Mosquitos were starting to come out as the sun went down behind the trees in back of the house.
Just then a car pulled into the driveway and stopped behind the trailer. The ancient Buick had once been gold colored, but was now quite faded. The driver's door was white and didn't match the rest of the car. The hubcaps were missing and only the front tire was a whitewall.
A heavy set black woman dressed in a purple maid's unform with a white collar climbed out of the car. Her hair was short and nappy, just like her mother wore it. Dark skinned with thick negro features, Jolene Cook didn't look so much like her older sister who was six years her senior.
"Well, I sees y'all made it," said Jolene, eyeing the girls. "Din't have no trouble findin' the ol' place?"
"I couldn't forget the way here if I tried, Lena," replied Bernadine.
"Is dese yo' chillun'?" Jolene asked with a smile. "You never said how pretty dey was! Come here an' give yo' Aunt Lena a hug!"
Taneesha came over to meet her aunt while Ebony looked on somewhat aloofly. Bernadine saw her older daughter's reaction and felt embarrassed by Jolene's poor grammar. She'd made such an effort herself to lose the dialect she'd grown up with. She never wanted to sound like some ignorant back country negro.
"Well! Let's all go inside an' git away from dese damn bugs!" suggested Jolene. "Dey be bitin' somethin' fierce!"
"Where's mama, Lena?" Bernadine asked. "I thought she'd be with you."
"She still up at da Walker place," her sister answered. "Massa Walker be wantin' her to stay late. I's gon' go git her later on. You know how it is."
Bernadine and Jolene just looked at each other for a moment in silence. Ebony and Taneesha just looked puzzled.
"Yeah, I do," agreed Bernadine with resignation. "Let's get inside and get unpacked."
Jolene climbed up the steps and opened the front door, her sister and nieces followed behind her. Bernadine wasn't surprised to see the same old furniture, same old rug, same old pictures on the wall. Everything was the same. Just more faded and frayed.
"You can have yo' old room, Dina," said Jolene. "You two girls kin have the bedroom in da attic. It gots a big bed in dere for you. I jus' go an' start supper while y'all git yo' stuff moved in."
Jolene disappeared into the kitchen while Bernadine and the girls went back outside to bring in their luggage.
"I knew I had to share a room with Neesha, but not the same bed!" complained Ebony. "And in the attic? This totally sucks!"
"Fuck you, Ebony!" Taneesha shot back. "You think I like it?"
"Neesha!" Bernadine rebuked her younger daughter. "Don't you ever use language like that to your sister! And as for you, Ebony, you're just going to have to make the best of it. This isn't easy for any of us. Bitching about it only makes it worse, so you can just stop it."
"I'm sorry, Mama," Taneesha apologized. "But she just pisses me off!"
"Enough," said her mother wearily. "It's been a long drive and I just want to get our things inside and settle down."
Bernadine carried her suitcase up the stairs to her old bedroom and set it on the floor. The room was stark. Just a bed and a dresser and faded curtains on the window. None of her things were still there from before. She went back to the hall and looked down into the front room from the top of the stairs. Jolene was opening the door to let Ebony and Taneesha in with their things.
Seeing the large black woman in her maid's uniform at the door brought back an early childhood memory for Bernadine. It had to be almost forty years in the past. Bernadine was five or six years old. Her mother, Henrietta, was pregnant with Jolene at the time.
* * *
It was late at night. Bernadine's father was working the overnight shift at the mill. Henrietta had only returned from her job as a maid for a wealthy white family an hour or so earlier. She'd just been woken up by a knock on the front.
The young colored girl came out of her room and went to the top of the stairs to see who it could be. Her mother answered the door, still dressed in her gray maid's uniform and white cap. A tall white man in an expensive long dark dress coat stepped in.
"Good evenin', boss," Henrietta greeted him, closing the door. "I's honored to have you come to my home."
"Evenin', Etta," said the white man. "I ain't gonna be stayin' long. Let's have a look at you."
"Yessuh, boss," answered the black woman, reaching up to unbutton her dress.
The white man stood and watched intently as Henrietta undid the last button and held her uniform open revealing her pregnant belly. Young Bernadine gasped at the sight of her mother showing her body off to this man.
"Pop those udders out, too, girl," instructed the white man. "I bet they're swelled up good, too."
"Yessuh, dey sho' is," the pregnant negro replied, lifting her bra over her breasts.
Henrietta's heavy mammaries hung, resting on her belly. The white man reached out and gave each one a squeeze. Then he put his hand on her tummy.
"I think you've got milk already, Etta," he observed. "You're about ready to pop, ain't you?"
"Yessuh, boss," agreed Henrietta. "Any day now."
"Probably too far along for me to get any of that good nigger poontang, eh?" he said disappointedly. "I do love usin' a darky who's got one in the oven."
"I's sorry, boss," she said apologetically. "I truly is. I's jus' too far along fo' fuckin'. Kin I suck yo' dick fo' you, suh? I suck it real good fo' you. I knows you be likin' it."
"Alright," he sighed with resignation. "I guess that'll have to do. Get on with it, girl."
"Right away, boss!" said Henrietta eagerly, dropping to her knees. "You ain't gon' be sorry, suh. I suck you good. You'll see."
Bernadine watched open mouthed as her mother kneeled before the white man. Her pregnant belly sticking out from her open maid's uniform, her milk laden breasts swinging as she leaned forward. Henrietta opened the man's coat and unbuckled his belt. She unbuttoned his trousers, unzipped his fly, and took his erect penis out. The young girl watching secretly had never seen such a thing.
"Oh, lawdy!" exclaimed the pregnant colored woman. "Ain't you a big un! Dis nigga gon' love takin' dis in her mouf!"
Henrietta grinned stupidly up at him and then opened her lips and took much of his dick into her mouth. Bernadine could hear the slurping and gagging noises all the way from the top of the stairs. She was mesmerized by the sight. She didn't understand what was going on, but she could tell that whatever it was, it was dirty and degrading. The white man was putting the part of him he peed out of into her mother's mouth.
"That's right, you dumb ape," said the man huskily, "suck it good."
The negro woman bobbed her head up and down on the white man's cock. Spittle hung from her chin, dripping onto her swollen breasts. Her eyes bugged out of her head as she looked up at him, as if seeking his approval. Bernadine felt like she had to pee, but couldn't move.
"Here it comes, bitch!" cried the white man. "Take in your fuckin' black face!"
He grabbed Henrietta by her short nappy hair and jerked her head off his cock. She immediately grabbed it with both hands and stroked him, still looking up at him with the dumb grin on her face. A few seconds later he erupted. Thick strands of semen shot out of the white man's dick and hit the colored woman in the face. Viscous globs of white liquid spattered her hair, nose, cheek, and lips.
"I've gotta get goin'," the man told her. "Clean my dick off, Etta."
"Yessuh, boss!" replied the cum faced black woman. "Right away!"
Bernadine watched as Henrietta leaned forward on her knees and licked the tip of his cock. The young girl could see her mother wiping his dick off with her pink tongue. He stepped back and zipped up his pants while the black woman watched from her knees. The stupid grin was still on her face. So was the semen he'd deposited there, though it was starting to liquefy and drip off her chin and onto her breasts and pregnant belly.
"Thank you, boss," the negress said sincerely. "Thank you fo' usin' dis nigga, suh. I be honored by it. I's sorry you ain't get no poontang. I be makin' it up to you real soon. An' dat's fo' sho'!
"Good girl," said the man, patting Bernadine's mother on the head. "Good nigger."
He turned and let himself out the front door. Henrietta hung her head as soon as the door closed. Bernadine coughed and her mother looked up the stairs and saw her. The older woman knew instantly that her young daughter had seen everything that had transpired. She had seen her mother humiliate and degrade herself in her own home.
"What you lookin' at, girl?" Henrietta shouted angrily up the stairs. "I be doin' dis fo' you. It ain't like I gots a choice. I gots to take it if'n you like eatin' and sleepin' wit' a roof over yo' head. Now git yo' black ass into bed where it belongs!"
Bernadine ran back into her room and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up over her head. Neither of them ever spoke of the incident again.
* * *
"Somethin' wrong wit' you, girl?" called Jolene from the bottom of the stairs.
Bernadine was startled out of her memory. Almost forty years had gone by and she still remembered it all so vividly. She felt her mother's shame as strongly now as she had that night so long ago.
"No, Lena," Bernadine called back. "I was just spacing out for a moment. It's strange being back here. It seems like I lived here in another lifetime."
"Yeah, I guess it do seem dat way," agreed Jolene. "It's been a real long time, ain't it?"
"Yeah," Bernadine replied. But not long enough, she thought.
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