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
After their dinner, Bernadine and Jolene sat in the living room. Ebony and Taneesha were upstairs unpacking and arguing.
"I appreciate you taking us in, Lena," Bernadine started. "After everything, especially with Reggie, I just didn't know where else to turn."
"You is family, girl!" Jolene replied. "It's yo' house, too. You kin stay wit' us long as you need to."
"I'm sorry I haven't kept in better touch over the years," the older sister continued. "I always meant to. Where is it you're working now?"
"I's workin' fo' Mister Walker, too" Jolene blushed. "Jus' like mama."
Just like mama, thought Bernadine as another unpleasant memory flashed into her mind. It was almost thirty years in the past, but the thought of it made her face burn with the same humiliation she'd felt at the time. She was sixteen years old that night. Jolene had been ten.
* * *
"Bernadine!" her mother called from the bottom of the stairs. "Git yo' black ass out here, girl!"
Bernadine and Jolene appeared together at the top of the stairs. The older sister still in her school clothes, the younger was already in her nightgown.
"You go back to bed, Jolene," Henrietta instructed. "Dis here only be for Bernadine. Git on down here, girl."
Puzzled, the black teenager slowly came down the steps.
"Massa Walker an' his boy be comin' any minute now," said her mother. "Now, you gon' do like you tol'. No back talk an' no sassin'. Now, wit' yo' daddy gone, we needs to keep dem Walkers happy an' keep dis roof over our heads. So you be polite an' respectful. You got that?"
"Yes, mama," Bernadine said with a sigh.
The young negro hated George Walker. He was in her class at school and was an arrogant prick. His father, Herbert, owned the mill where most of the people in town worked and he liked to lord that fact over everyone. Why Mister Walker was bringing him over here didn't make any sense, but she had a feeling she wasn't going to like it.
Henrietta was giving Bernadine a quick inspection when the front door opened and Herbert and George walked in.
"Evenin', suhs," smiled the older colored woman. "I's honored to have you fine gen'lemen in my home."
"So, Dina's filled out pretty nice, Etta!" said Herbert. "She's turnin' into a fine lookin' negress!"
"I told you, dad," grinned George. "She's got growed up titties an' everythin'!"
Bernadine blushed at George's comments and fought back the urge to slap him. She understood all too well how much they all depended on her mother's continued employment in the Walker household.
"Thank you, suhs!" Henrietta said sincerely. "Ain't that a nice thing to be sayin' 'bout my girl! Ain't it, Dina? Thank the gen'lemen, girl!"
"Thanks," mumbled Bernadine, her face burning with shame.
"She kinda shy now, boss," Henrietta apologized, glancing daggers at her daughter. "No matter, tho'. She be doin' like she tol'. Ain't dat right, girl?"
"Yes, mama," replied Bernadine, looking at the floor.
"Good, good!" exclaimed Herbert. "I can tell the boy's at an age where he should start learnin' the way of the world. He's becomin' a man now, an' it's high time he knows 'bout niggers and what they for. I don't wanna wait until he's gotten some precious white girl in trouble when there was a perfectly good nigger available to take care of his natural urges."
"Jeez, dad!" protested George, his face reddening. "You know I ain't so dumb as to do somethin' like that! I know better 'n to be messin' around with a nice girl. I ain't no stupid kid. I know what niggers are for. Ain't that right, Etta
"Dat's right, Massa George," agreed Henrietta. "You sho' do."
Bernadine bristled at her mother being so subservient to the boy she thought of as an arrogant snot-nosed brat. She hated him calling the older woman by her first name. And where do these two come off with all this talk about niggers?! Like somehow they're better than her because they're rich and white! Still, she realized she had to suck it up for her mother's sake. After all, they did have the power to put the whole family in the street.
"Alright, son, settle down," said the elder white man. "If this is a lesson you don't think you need, we can just go on home."
"I didn't mean that, dad!" objected George. "I been waitin' for this a long time!"
"I thought so," laughed Herbert. "Now, I know you got urges, son. And it's perfectly natural. You're becomin' a man now and you notice the ladies. Thing is, you start messin' with them and you're disrespectin' them an' their daddies. Next thing you know, you've got some sweet girl in trouble an' her daddy's gettin' out the shotgun!"
"Nigger women got the same kinda stuff as regular women," continued the white man. "They got titties, pussies, and nice fat asses. Everything a young man could want. But, they is made for you to use. An' they're naturally sexed up, too. Not like white girls. Niggers are like animals that way. They like fuckin' and suckin' an' nobody expects nothin' more from 'em."
"Get naked for the boy, Etta," instructed Herbert off-handedly. "An' have that girl of yours get naked, too."
"Yessuh, boss!" said Henrietta. "Dina, you heard the gen'lemen. Get dem clothes off so the young white man can see yo' stuff."
Bernadine felt as though she'd been kicked in stomach. Did they seriously expect her to strip for this asshole white boy? She looked back at her mother to see her unfastening the buttons on her blouse and taking it off, leaving her standing there in a skirt and bra.
"Somethin' wrong wit' you girl?" asked her mother, irritated. "Start gittin' that top off right now! Don't be actin' like no fool nigga too stupid to un'erstan' English!"
The colored girl turned around facing away from the father and son and began unbuttoning her blouse.
"Etta, you better straighten your girl out," warned Herbert. "She needs to start actin' like a proper nigger."
"Dina!" Henrietta rebuked her. "These nice gen'lemen come all the way here jus' to see you. You shamin' us both actin' up dis way. Now git wit' it!"
Bernadine felt Henrietta's hands on her shoulders, twisting her back to face the front. She could see the pleading look in her mother's eyes. The teenager knew what could happen if she didn't cooperate. She unbuttoned her blouse and took it off while looking at the floor the entire time.
"I's sorry, suh," Henrietta apologized. "She jus' a dumb nigga sometimes. She do right now, boss."
"I hope so," the older white man said.
The black teenager looked over at her mother to see her unclasp her bra and slip it off, revealing her large sagging black breasts. She glanced at the white boy and saw him staring right at the older negress's chest. George startled Bernadine by shifting his gaze to herself.
She could feel her face grow hot and looked back down at the floor. Reaching behind her back, she unfastened the clasp. Placing an arm in front of breasts she took the bra off.
"She's coverin' 'em up!" complained George. "Make her put her hand down so I can see her boobs!"
Henrietta had had enough and grabbed Bernadine's arm and pushed it down to her side.
"Stop disrespectin' these nice white men right now, girl!" she demanded. "Keep dem hands down an' let 'em see what dey come here to see! You keep actin' da fool an' I'll git da belt out! Den dey be seein' you git a whuppin'!"
"I told you, dad," gloated George. "She's got grown up boobs."
Bernadine felt a mixture of shame and anger as she stood there, hanging her head, with her breasts on display for the snotty white boy and his father. She felt a tear form and roll down her cheek.
"Niggers mature earlier than regular women," Herbert informed him. "Udders, ass, all that. A white girl her age'd still be flat chested. All the more reason use niggers for your needs."
Henrietta unfastened her skirt and let it drop to the floor. Bernadine looked over at her and followed suit. Both women, mother and daughter were now down to only their panties. The older woman hooked her thumbs in the waist band and pulled hers to her ankles and stepped out of them. Both white men checked out her nappy bush.
Bernadine slowly pulled her panties down until her own pubic region was exposed at which point she just let them drop and stepped out of them. Her and her mother were now completely nude. George and his father drank in the sight of the naked negro women.
"See?" asked Herbert gently. "It ain't so bad is it? Me an' the boy jus' like the look of a fine negress. An' it's only natural like for a nigger to be naked. Ain't no shame in it."
Another tear rolled down Bernadine's cheek. She was completely humiliated at exposing herself to this boy she despised. She could see him grinning as enjoyed the view of her nude body.
"Turn around, Dina," commanded George. "I wanna see your big nigger butt."
"Do it, girl," whispered Henrietta sternly.
Bernadine turned around until her backside faced the young white man.
"Bend over, nigger," George ordered, clearing enjoying himself.
The teenager bent at the waist, giving him a fine view of her ass.
"Open your legs," he insisted. "I wanna see your cunt."
Swallowing hard, Bernadine let her feet slide apart. She could feel the room air wafting over her nether region.
"She's a hairy one, dad," observed George. "Just like Etta."
"No surprise there," his father replied. The white man turned to the older negress. "You teach her to display yet?"
"No, suh," Henrietta admitted. "But she do it anyway."
Bernadine didn't like the sound of this.
"Stand up, girl," her mother ordered. "Go stand in front of da nice young man and open dem legs up wide so he kin have a feel o' yo' coochie. Den put yo' hands behind yo' head. Dat'll keep dem udders hangin' nice fo' da man. Like dis."
Henrietta stepped up in front of Herbert with her feet far apart. She put her hands behind her head with the fingers laced and thrust out her chest, her eyes straight ahead.
With a lump in her throat and a few more tears, Bernadine did the same in front of George. The white boy reached his hands between her legs and roughly fondled her sex. She felt her legs tremble.
"Damn!" exclaimed George. "Her pussy's wet! I thought she hated this!"
"Don't matter if she hates it or not, son," replied his father, his hand between Henrietta's legs. "Niggers can't help it. Like I told you, they're like animals. They love it. Etta's wet, too. See for yourself."
George leaned over and put his hand between the older negress's legs and stroked her pussy.
"Damn..." George murmured. "I wanna fuck Dina, dad."
"Please, no, suh," begged Henrietta. "She too young fo' fuckin'. I's beggin' you, boss. Don't fuck my baby girl yet. She ain't ready. How 'bout ol' Etta suck yo' dick, Massa George? Dina be showin' you her stuff how ever you want while her mama take you in her mouf. Dat good 'nough? You knows I kin make you feel good, suh. I always do a good job suckin' a white man's dick."
"Sounds fair to me, son," allowed Herbert. "Dina's pussy'll be there later. I'm sure Etta'll make sure she saves her cherry for you. Ain't that right, Etta?"
"Yessuh, boss!" smiled Henrietta. "When she ready, you kin be da one to get her cherry. Ain't dat right, girl?"
"Yes, mama," answered Bernadine, her voice cracking. "Whatever you say, mama."
"It ain't gonna be long now, I promise, boss," Henrietta went on and smiled again. "You want yo' nigga to suck on yo' big white dick, Massa George? I be suckin' it good an' Dina be showin' you what you wanna see. You want dat?"
"Yeah, Etta," said the white teenager. "Suck it."
Henrietta got on her knees, her breasts swaying. She leaned forward and unzipped the young man's pants, took his cock into her mouth and started slurping on it. Bernadine stood in the display position to one side while George's hands roamed over her naked teenaged body. He pinched her nipple causing her to cry out. He pinched the other one even harder.
The old negress could tell her daughter was in distress and bobbed her head faster to get the boy off quickly. Her skills paid off in less than a minute.
"Oh!" exclaimed George. "Fuck! Oh... Ahhh..."
Bernadine felt him release his grip on her bruised nipple as he ejaculated into her mother's mouth. Henrietta took it all and swallowed it down. When she'd sucked the last of it out she leaned back onto her knees and smiled at the boy.
"Dat was alot, Massa George!" she announced cheerfully. "You a real man an' dat's fo' sho'!"
"Go wait in the car, son," ordered Herbert. "I wanna talk to Etta alone."
"Ok, dad," said George.
The white boy took a long last look at the humiliated black teen and went out the front door.
"You want a blow job, too, boss?" offered Henrietta. "I be honored suck yo' dick, suh. Dina be honored if you keep enjoyin' her charms. Ain't dat right, Dina?"
"Yes, mama," Bernadine nodded. "It sho' would."
"I think I'll have some nigger poontang instead, girl," said Herbert. "I'd like to bust a nut in you while I check your girl out."
"Yessuh, boss," Henrietta agreed. "How you be wantin' yo' nigga, Massa?"
"Bend over so I can fuck you like the animal you are," the man instructed.
Henrietta turned around and bent over, presenting her vagina to him. Bernadine watched as the white man shoved his dick into her mother's pussy.
"Dat's it, boss!" squealed the older negress with delight. "Fuck yo' nigga good, Massa!"
Bernadine blushed hard. She'd never seen her mother having sex before, not since that night ten years earlier when she saw her blow a white man. She'd since come to realize that the recipient must have been Mister Walker.
"Start showin' yo' stuff to da man, girl," said Henrietta, looking up at her daughter, her breasts swinging with each of his thrusts.
The teenager wasn't sure what to do, so she assumed the display position for him and waited for further instructions.
"Open your mouth up, girl," ordered Herbert.
Confused, Bernadine opened her mouth up. She wasn't sure what the attraction was, but she felt embarrassed doing it. Maybe that was all he wanted. To embarrass her.
"You've got a great cocksuckin' mouth, nigger," he complimented her. "George's gonna love it. So will I. Poke that tongue out a little more."
Bernadine blushed and did as he asked. She felt like a moron standing there naked with her tongue hanging out of her open mouth. She felt herself starting to drool. Looking down at her mother, she couldn't believe this was the woman who raised her. Henrietta was like an animal, her nostrils flaring, her breathing ragged.
The rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh rang off the walls. The negress's heavy breasts swung with each thrust. The white man was glassy eyed, staring at her like she was just a thing for his viewing pleasure. Like a living porno movie.
Herbert grunted and shoved hard into Henrietta. The black woman gasped.
"Oh, Massa!" she cried out. "You's cummin' in you nigga! Thank you, suh. Thank you fo' fillin' yo' nigga's coochie wit' yo' cum!"
The colored teen was flabbergasted at the scene. Her mother was actually thanking this lecherous white man for fucking her! She was almost as embarrassed for her as she was for herself. He pulled out of the older negress's pussy with an audible slurping sound.
"Clean me off, Etta," Herbert ordered. "George'll be antsy so I better be gettin' goin'."
"Right away, boss," Henrietta said.
Bernadine watched her mother turn and bend over, putting her face even with the white man's dick. She opened her mouth and sucked the glistening combination of pussy juice and semen off his cock.
"Thank you fo' usin' yo' niggas, suh," Henrietta said sincerely. "You and yo' son honor us an we be grateful fo' it."
"My pleasure," said Herbert as he zipped up his pants.
The white man headed out the door, leaving the two naked black women alone in the front room. As Henrietta stood up, Bernadine looked up the stairs to see Jolene looking down at them, her eyes wide. Obviously she saw everything that had happened. The teenager blushed at the thought of it and remembered her own feelings when she'd watched her mother blow Mister Walker all those years ago. It made her feel even dirtier than she did already.
* * *
"Ain't you gonna say nothin, Dina?" asked Jolene. "I knows how you feel 'bout dat Walker family. 'specially George."
Bernadine snapped back into the present moment.
"Sorry, Lena," she apologized. "I was just remembering how it used to be with them."
"Dey ain't changed dat much," replied Jolene.
No, thought Bernadine. They probably hadn't. Some things don't change.
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