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
Henrietta Cook was just finishing up mopping the kitchen at the Walker estate. She kept looking out the kitchen window to see if her daughter Jolene had arrived to take her home. She'd been looking forward to seeing her older daughter Bernadine and her granddaughters for the first time in many years.
"Etta, come to my study," came Herbert Walker's voice over the intercom speaker on kitchen wall.
"Right away, suh," she replied to the box. I's on my way."
The gray haired negress leaned the mop against the wall and walked through the hall to the old man's study. Herbert was waiting there, seated behind his large desk, signing some papers.
"Kin I git you somethin, Massa Walker?" Henrietta queried him.
"I know you're goin' home shortly, girl," he started. "But I just gotta have some of that good pussy before you leave. You don't have to get undressed, just slip your panties off and make yourself ready on the couch. I'll be right there."
"Yessuh, boss," the old black lady answered.
There was a day when Herbert's regular sexual use of her embarrassed Henrietta and left her feeling like an object for his gratification. Maybe she still felt like one, but it no longer embarrassed her. She understood very well what she was for, and at her age, she took it as a compliment.
The negro maid removed her glasses, slipped her panties off, hiked up her dress, and lay on the leather upholstered chair with her legs open and waited for him to finish what he was doing and come and use her. She wondered if he'd be through with her before Jolene got there. She felt the cool room air on her naked pussy. She'd been keeping it bare for him for more years than she could remember.
"You're lookin' fine as ever, Etta," the silver haired man said, walking over to her.
"Thank you, suh," she replied, smiling up at him. "You kind to say so."
Herbert undid his slacks and stepped out of them and his shorts. Henrietta could see that he was quite ready for her already. He climbed between her legs and poked his cock into the entrance to her vagina. She wasn't lubricated at all, but took it stoicly when he painfully penetrated her. She didn't want to spoil his pleasure by showing her discomfort.
"Damn, that feels good, girl," said the white man. "You still got that good pussy."
"Thank you, suh," she replied. "I's honored you still like usin' it."
The old man fucked her slowly but steadily for a few minutes. He started grunting with each thrust and the negress knew he was about to finish his business in her.
"You gonna give yo' nigga somethin' good, massa?" she smiled at him, humping back at the white man's strokes. "It's yo' coochie, boss. All fo' you, suh... Gimme somethin' good, boss."
Herbert was breathing heavily grunting faster as he stroked in and out of the old negro's pussy. Then she felt the familiar wet warmth as he released inside her.
"Oh, thank you, boss," she cooed. "You honor dis ol' nigga wit' yo' cum."
The white man lay still between the negress's legs for a minute before getting back on his feet. She smiled at him as she moved to sit up on the couch.
"Let me clean you up, suh," she offered. "Yo' nigga be grateful if'n you let her suck you clean."
"Go ahead, Etta," he granted her.
Henrietta took Herbert's dick gently in her hand and lovingly licked and sucked the semen off of it, finishing with a kiss on the tip.
"Run along now, girl," he said, putting his pants back on. "I don't wanna hold you up no more."
"Thank you, suh," said the gray haired housemaid. "It's always a pleasure to serve you."
Henrietta replaced her glasses and picked up her panties as Herbert returned to his paper work. She knew he preferred to be alone after using her, so she waited until she was out in the hall to put her panties back on. She hurried back to the kitchen and looked out the window again. Jolene was there now. She put the mop away and went out the back door to meet her.
"I hopes I din't keep you waitin' too long, Lena," Henrietta said, getting into the passenger seat. "You know how horny dat white man is."
"Jus' a few minutes," replied Jolene. "You was in dere fuckin' him, mama? I's always afraid he be havin' a attack or somethin' if he keeps dat up!"
"Don't you worry none 'bout that, girl," laughed her mother. "All dat fuckin' be keepin' him strong!"
Although she really derived little sexual satisfaction and more than a little pain from Herbert's attentions, Henrietta did feel a measure of pride that the white man still found her desirable. He had never tired of her even after close to fifty years of using her almost daily.
Henrietta took a closer look at her daughter as the rolled down the driveway. She noticed the streaks of tears and dirt on Jolene's face.
"What happened to you?" asked Henrietta. "You all dirty, girl!"
"I had to stop and take care o' George on da way here," Jolene answered. "I's a little late an' he beat me some. He gotta mean streak, mama. But, I's okay now."
"You know he be like dat," Henrietta replied. "'Course I think he be beatin' you if'n you late o' you ain't. Dat man jus' loves to treat niggas mean."
"Dat's da truth, mama," said Jolene. "He sho' do."
George had lost interest in Henrietta over the years, and she was happier for it. She could still vividly remember several episodes of unpleasantness with him. He'd seemed like any other horny white boy when he was in his teens. A horny white boy who knew he had the upper hand on a poor negro woman old enough to be his mama.
The young white man had already started high school that day almost thirty years in the past. It wasn't too long after his father had brought him to her home for a sex lesson with Henrietta and her daughter, his classmate, Bernadine.
* * *
Young George had come home that afternoon after school and found Henrietta scrubbing the bathroom floor. He stood in the doorway and looked down at her.
"Kin I git you somethin, Massa George?" asked Henrietta, looking up from her hands and knees. "You want me to fix a sandwich or somethin' fo' you?"
"No, Etta, I ain't hungry," replied the white teenager, looking down at the older colored lady. "I want somethin' else."
"Wha's dat, suh?" asked Henrietta, standing up.
"Remember how you sucked my dick before?" asked George.
"Yessuh," the negress said, blushing.
Henrietta was used to Herbert's almost daily sexual use of her, but his son was no older than her own daughter. The time George was speaking of took place with his father present and directing everything. She knew where this was going. Submitting to the white boy alone seemed more shameful. The fact that he'd expect her to comply embarrassed her. The fact that she knew she would humiliated her. She hung her head and waited.
"Go to my room," George ordered her.
The colored housekeeper walked past him and went down the hallway to the boy's bedroom. He followed behind her and closed the door.
"Take off your clothes, girl," he said with forced calmness.
Henrietta could tell that George was excited no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He was trying hard to be like his father. The son had never called her "girl" before. However, his doing so certainly drove home the truth of their respective places. He was the son of a wealthy white businessman. She was his colored maid. And when sons of wealthy white businessmen say to take off their clothes, colored maids do it.
"Yessuh," Henrietta agreed.
The negro woman started unfastening the buttons on her uniform dress while the young white man sat on his bed watching. She removed the dress, leaving her in her underwear. She couldn't look at him as she took her panties down and stepped out of them. Keeping her eyes on the floor, she unclasped her bra and her massive mammaries spilled out.
"Kneel," ordered George.
Henrietta got down onto her knees, her eyes never meeting his. She waited for his next instruction. George sat quietly on the bed for a minute drinking the site in. The colored lady who'd been part of his family as long as he could remember, almost a second mother to him, kneeled naked on the floor before him, ready to do his bidding regardless of how degrading it might be.
George got up at last and unzipped his pants. He pulled them down and sat back on the bed.
"Suck me," he ordered. "Like you did before."
"Yessuh," Henrietta replied.
The older negress walked to his bedside on her knees. The white teenager's dick was at attention, pre cum glistened on the tip of it. She reached out and took his cock in her hand. It was rock hard. She bent forward and took it into her mouth and began sucking on him, bobbing her head up and down on it.
George moved around some and Henrietta heard a rustling noise so she glanced up at him only to see that he was looking at a girly magazine! The cover had a picture of a big breasted white woman in a skimpy bikini that barely covered her nipples.
Henrietta had never felt so degraded and used when she was serving his father. Herbert, at least, always paid attention to her while he used her. The boy was actually using her to masturbate him with her mouth while he looked at naked pictures of white women. It was as if he didn't consider her body sufficiently stimulating to look at. It was only good enough to put his dick in.
The colored maid kept moving her head up and down on the white teenager's dick as he turned the pages in the girly magazine. Finally he grunted and ejaculated in her mouth. She sucked harder and milked his cock until she'd swallowed his entire load. He layed back on the bed, putting the magazine aside.
Henrietta waited until George was completely flaccid before letting his dick slip out of her mouth. She returned to her knees and waited for him to speak for a few minutes. Finally he sat up.
"You can go now," said George. "That's it."
The negress gathered her clothes and started to dress.
"Can't you go do that somewhere else?" asked the young white man.
"Yessuh," Henrietta replied. "I's sorry, suh."
The older black woman walked to the door and opened.
"When's supper gonna be ready?" George asked.
Henrietta turned and looked up at him, her clothing in her hands.
"Seven o'clock, suh," she said.
George rolled over and put his headphones on and started reading a comic book. Henrietta left the room and dressed in the hallway. Herbert always left her feeling used. His son made her feel dirty. She returned to the bathroom and finished scrubbing the floor around the toilet.
* * *
Henrietta had taken it from George again and again in those days. It'd kept him from bothering Bernadine, who clearly hated his attention, so she was happy to do it for her daughter, and anyways, she knew it was her place to serve him regardless of how mean he could be.
They were pulling into the driveway now. Henrietta looked forward to seeing her daughter and grandchildren even though she understood that Bernadine wouldn't be here unless she was desperate.
Henrietta walked in the front door of the house and was greeted warmly by Bernadine, Ebony, and Taneesha. Jolene was right behind them, but rushed up to the bathroom to get cleaned up before coming back down. They chatted for a while, catching up with each other. The girls were exhausted from the trip and finally went up to bed.
"So, what you gonna be doin' now, girl?" Henrietta asked. "You kin stay here as long as you want. Dis is yo home, too."
"I'm going to see if I can't get a teaching job at the high school," answered Bernadine. "Rural places like this always need more good teachers. I doubt they have anyone on staff with my credentials. It should be no problem."
"I don't know 'bout dat, Dina," Jolene interjected. "You know dat Mister Chalmers still be da principal. You had dat run it wit him when you was in school."
"That's way in the past, Lena," Bernadine informed her. "And that cracker asshole's lucky he didn't get his ass in a jam for it!"
"Dina!" exclaimed Henrietta, shocked. "Dem girls kin hear you!"
"They've heard worse, mama," replied Bernadine. "They're city girls."
"Well, dey needs to start gettin' used to da idea dat dey ain't in da city no mo'," sighed the old colored lady. "Dey here now. An' so is you, girl."
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