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
It hadn't been long since Taneesha had run into the house and up the stairs when Bernadine's older daughter ran in excitedly clutching the mail.
"Mama!" exclaimed Ebony. "A letter came for you from Smithmore College! I think it's about the scholarship!"
"Calm down, girl," Bernadine told her. "Let's have a look at it."
Ebony handed her mother the envelope. Bernadine opened it and began reading. She sighed and let her hand drop to her side, still holding the letter. The news wasn't good.
"It looks like your scholarship's been reduced," she informed her daughter. "Their budget's been cut. We'll have to come up with ten thousand dollars by the end of November to hold your place in the freshman class for next year."
"How can they do that?!" cried Ebony. "I worked so hard to get the grades to get accepted! You promised that if I did that I could go where ever I wanted. And Smithmore is the best!"
"I know I did, girl," Bernadine agreed. "We'll work something out. It's important to me for you to go to a prestigious school. I know I'd have gone further if I'd gone to a better school than the state university. I may have to settle for a job outside my field. And you may have to get a part time job."
"A job?!" protested Ebony. "How can I keep my grades up if I'm doing some stupid job?"
"Listen, young lady," said her mother evenly, "I told you we'd find a way and we will. It's going to take sacrifices from each of us. I'm going to do what I can. You'll have to do your part, too. Is that clear?"
"I guess I don't got much choice," Ebony replied.
"'have much choice,' Ebony," Bernadine corrected her. "That kind of down home talk won't get you too far at Smithmore."
Ebony rolled her eyes and left her mother standing there in the kitchen. Bernadine shook her head and turned her thoughts to the problem at hand: Where to get the money she needed to get her daughter into the prestigious private college. They'd both worked so hard to get her accepted to Smithmore and she wasn't ready to give up now that the teenager was so close to those ivy covered halls.
Bernadine had tried to find work in her field. She thought the local high school would be grateful to have someone of her caliber on the faculty. But, she couldn't get past Principal Chalmers. The lecherous old white man was more interested in getting some black tail than he was in hiring a talented educator.
The mill was really the only employer of any consequence in this town and she'd looked for administrative work there that would require her managerial experience. She'd been encouraged by finding an African American woman in a position of responsibility. However, her initial hopefulness was dashed when she discovered that submitting to George Walker was part of the package. Even the highly educated Leeza Rice had to bend over and take it from the white man. Bernadine knew that the same would be expected from her.
* * *
It was after dinner when she confided in her sister Jolene about the situation with Smithmore.
"I don't git why y'all jus' don't send her to dat state university you went to, Dina," was Jolene's reaction. "That sho' be good 'nough fo' you. Look at da fancy job you got."
"Trust me, Lena," Bernadine sighed, "it makes a huge difference. Maybe if I'd been a Smithmore graduate instead of just from state I'd still have my job. Or I'd have had an even better one in the first place and I'd still be there now. A degree from a place like that opens doors."
"Seems like a whole lot o' money to pay to go to some stuck up school filled wit' snooty folks who be lookin' down at you da whole time," her younger sister countered. "An', I bet they be gettin' Ebony all uppity, too. Even mo' uppity den she be already."
"What you call uppityness I call dignity," Bernadine explained. "And it's better to be looking down than getting looked down on. Ebony is proud of her accomplishments and deservedly so. Don't you be talkin' about my girl that way!" She paused and calmed herself. "I mean, I won't have you saying things like that about her."
"I's sorry, girl," said Jolene with the faint hint of a smirk. "I don't mean nothin' by it. I's jus' sayin'."
"It's not you, Lena," Bernadine said at last. "It's the situation that has me on edge. If I don't come up with that money, all the hard work we did will be wasted. Ebony may not even be able to get into state. I didn't even have her apply there, let alone fill out the papers for a scholarship."
"Well, I did hear somethin'," offered Jolene. "Dere's dis lawyer, see? An' he got a fancy office in town. His 'ministrator done got herself pregnant an' quit. It ain't no low class job or no phone answerin'. He got his niece doin' dat. Maybe dat be a job can pay you what you needs."
"Really?" Bernadine felt a spark of hope. "That'd be a godsend, girl. I was about to start looking for work at the mall."
* * *
Promptly at two o'clock, Bernadine arrived at the offices of James Hutz, attorney at law. She had dressed in her silk blouse, gray wool skirt, and matching jacket for the interview. She felt like a professional again for the first time since her last day as principal at her old high school.
A petite brunette girl, perhaps twenty five, perhaps younger, was sitting at the receptionist's desk inside the second floor office door.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," the brunette greeted her. "May I help you?"
Ma'am! Yes, thought Bernadine, perhaps this town had changed over the years. It felt good to get the kind of respect she deserved.
"Yes," the black lady replied. "I have an appointment to see Mister Hutz. I'm Bernadine Johnson."
"Yes, Mrs. Johnson," responded the receptionist. "He's expecting you. I'll let him know you're here."
A minute or two after the white girl called him on the phone, James Hutz appeared in the receptionist area. He was a tall, handome white man. His dark brown hair was just beginning to gray at the temples. He smiled and offered Bernadine his hand.
"Mrs. Johnson," he said warmly. "I'm glad to meet you! Before we start, would you like some coffee or anything?"
"Thank you, yes," Bernadine answered. "Cream and no sugar."
"Terri?" James turned to the white girl. "Two coffees. We'll be in my office."
"It'll just be a minute," Terri informed him.
The white girl got up and went across the reception area while James walked Bernadine back to his office. They'd barely taken their seats when Terri returned with two cups. She smiled and offered one to the negro woman and the other to the attorney. The colored lady noted that he took his black.
"I know this job isn't exactly the kind of thing you've done in the past," he began. "But, I think your skills will be put to good use here. Naturally, this office isn't as large as a metropolitan high school. However, the position is hardly secretarial. My niece, Terri, handles those things. You'll be managing the office, composing non-legal correspondence, and interacting directly with my clients. Many of my clients are important people in the area, which is why I'm looking for someone with experience as a professional."
The more Bernadine listened the better she felt. Although not as prestigious as being a principal with a large staff and faculty reporting to her, this position was still professional. Mister Hutz and his niece treated her with respect and that was a welcome departure from her experiences so far since she'd returned.
They spoke for almost an hour before James finally concluded the interview.
"Well, Mrs. Johnson," he said, "I think that about covers it. And there's no question in my mind that I want you to come to work here. I know the salary isn't quite up to what you may have been earning in the city, but I think you'll find it's very competitive. Plus, your money goes further in a small town like this one."
The money had been a surprise, but it was a pleasant one. Combined with a part time income from Ebony, there'd be no problem making the tuition payment for Smithmore. If it wasn't for her desire to not seem to eager, Bernadine would have accepted the job right there on the spot.
"I'll have an answer for you by this time tomorrow, Mister Hutz," she told him. "It was a pleasure talking to you."
"Likewise, I'm sure," replied James. "Let me see you out."
They walked back past the receptionist's desk. Terri's eyes never left the black lady. The brunette smiled when her eyes met Bernadine's.
"Goodbye, Mrs. Johnson," called Terri. "I do hope you decide to work with us."
"Thank you," responded Bernadine. "I'll let you know tomorrow."
The negress returned to her car and drove back to the dilapidated house on the other side of the tracks. Yes, those white folks were nice and respectful. But, still, she thought, this town had a long way to go.
* * *
The decision hadn't been difficult at all, of course. Bernadine accepted the offer and began work at the law office that Monday. Henrietta, Jolene, Taneesha, and even Ebony seemed proud of her. The black woman was relieved to be working again and succeeding in the town she'd left in disgust so many years ago. By Friday, she had shaken off the self doubt that had plagued her since budget cuts had closed the high school and cost her her job.
James hadn't come into the office Friday, but he called in that afternoon. Terri transferred the call to Bernadine's office.
"Hello, Mrs. Johnson," he said. "I'd like you to bring the Campbell file out here to me. I've got to work on it this weekend and I don't know when I'll get a chance to come into the office."
"No problem," Bernadine agreed. "I can drop it off on my way home after work."
"I need it now," replied James. "Plus, it's company business. Might as well do it on company time."
"Of course," she said. "I'll be right out there."
Bernadine emerged from her office to find Terri standing there with a smile on her face and the Campbell file in her hand.
"Uncle Jim told me what he wanted so I got the folder for you, ma'am," said the brunette.
"Uh, thanks, Terri," the colored woman responded, accepting the documents.
Bernadine still didn't feel completely at ease with James' niece. There was something odd about the young white woman that she couldn't put her finger on. Perhaps once she got to know her better, she'd become more comfortable around her.
Soon she was driving up the long winding road into the hills. Here the lawns were large and well manicured. The houses were luxurious and far apart. Bernadine couldn't even see some of them. Only iron gates and high hedges were visible from the street.
Finally she arrived at James Hutz's house. She pulled the Volvo up the driveway and parked near the flag stone walk way up to the front door. She grabbed the file folder and went up to the double door and rang the bell.
Half a minute later the door opened. A short, large, black woman in her mid fifties dressed in a black maid's uniform of the same type Bernadine was all too familiar with seeing on her mother and sister. The negro housekeeper scowled as she scrutinized the visitor.
"Kin I help you?" she asked, eyeing Bernadine's business attire suspiciously.
"I'm Mrs. Johnson," Bernadine replied. "I've got some papers for Mister Hutz. He's expecting me."
"Mrs. Johnson?" the maid repeated skeptically. "I'll tell Mister James." She paused, thinking. "Wait here."
The maid closed the door, leaving Bernadine standing there. The black woman was more than a little irritated at the rude treatment she'd just received. A minute later, the older woman returned.
"Come this way," she told her. "Mrs. Johnson," she added with a hint of a smirk in her voice.
Bernadine didn't care for the maid's tone at all, but she refused to let the older woman's attitude get to her. She followed the housekeeper through a large living room with a picture window looking over the yard. The floor was covered with thick white carpeting and a cream colored leather upholstered sectional sofa was situated in a horseshoe shape around a large glass top coffee table with heavy wooden legs. A brick fireplace took up the middle part of the room.
Past the fireplace was where they found James Hutz. Dressed in a silk robe, he sat on a smaller version of the same couch as in the main part of the living room. There was even a smaller version of the glass top coffee table. This part of the room had a large sliding glass door that opened onto a deck that surrounded a large swimming pool. Clearly, the lawyer was quite successful to be able to afford such luxurious home.
"Mrs. Johnson!" he exclaimed. "I'm glad you were able to come by."
Bernadine stood next to the coffee table and handed James the file folder. His appearance was a little surprising to the black woman and left her feeling more than a little uncomfortable. He accepted it and put it on the table without looking at it. The maid glanced back and forth between her employer and his visitor and then quietly left the room.
"It's no problem, Mister Hutz," she replied. "If there's nothing else, I'll go back to the office now."
"Oh, no need to leave so soon," he said. "I'm sure Terri has everything under control. Take off your jacket and stay a while. Would you care for a drink?"
"Uh..., no thanks," Bernadine responded uncomfortably. "I really should get back."
"Seriously," he said. "There's no need. It's Friday afternoon. Things are slow back at the office. Nothing Terri can't handle. Make yourself comfortable. The jacket must be making you too warm."
"I'm fine," she told him.
"I'll say," James smiled. "Very fine. Now take off that jacket so I can get a better idea of just how fine."
"Mister Hutz!" Bernadine said indignantly. "I don't think that's appropriate!"
"Come on now," he said playfully. "Of course it's appropriate! I'm giving you a good salary and I expect good value for my money! Now get that jacket off so I can start seeing what I'm paying for. I've been dying to get a look at those black titties since the moment you walked into my office."
"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" exclaimed the negro woman. "I'm a respectable lady! Not some bimbo!"
"Now wait a minute there!" he stopped her. "I never suggested otherwise. But, you can't expect me to believe you got as far as you did without putting out in order to get there! A woman like you gets to places like that on her back."
"I earned everything I've got," Bernadine shook her finger at him. "Nobody gave me nothin'. I had to earn it."
"Of course you did!" replied James. "And you'd have been a fool not to take advantage of all the... assets at your disposal. And that body is a fine asset. Believe me. Let's stop all this unpleasantness and start by getting that jacket off."
"No!" she said, exasperated. "You haven't been listening. Our relationship will be professional and that's all!"
"Bernadine," he said calmly, "I can call you Bernadine, can't I? Our relationship will be what I say it is or it won't be anything at all. If you're not going to be cooperative, then I'm afraid I'll have to let you go. Here you are, a fine looking negro woman, in need of a job and a good salary. Here I am, a man with a good job and salary to offer, who enjoys the company of fine looking negro women. We each have something the other wants. You need money. I want you."
"I never!" exclaimed Bernadine. "Just what do you think I am?"
"Why, I think that should be obvious," James explained. "You're a nigger. A pretty nigger, for sure. But, a nigger. An ape. A monkey in a suit. Now get out of that suit, monkey, or just get out. I'm not going to force you to do anything. You'll comply of your own free will. But, I'm not paying some nigger the kind of money I'm paying you without enjoying the pleasure of your charms. Decide what's important to you. The illusion of respect or the reality of cold hard cash. Make up your mind and be quick about it."
Bernadine was stunned to the core. She just stood there slack jawed staring at the white man looking back up at her with a crooked smile on his face. She was flabbergasted at what he'd said to her. A nigger! An ape! A monkey! The words had her fuming with anger. He'd treated her with respect and conducted himself professionally. Until now. Now she could see he was no different than any other man in this town. In this part of town, anyways.
Then she thought of Ebony. Her beautiful intelligent daughter. Without the money from this job, Ebony wouldn't be going to Smithmore. Without that advantage what would stop her daughter from ending up in the same situation she now found herself in? What could she do other than do what the white man wanted? She realized it was either her or daughter. And a mother had to protect her child and take it for her. She knew what she had to do.
Bernadine removed the expensive wool jacket and lay it on the couch next to where James sat and looked at him.
"That's more like it!" he crowed. "I'm glad you see things my way, Bernadine."
"Well, Mister Hutz," she replied, "I don't have much choice."
"No, I suppose you don't," he grinned. "And by the way, there's no need to call me Mister Hutz. You can just call me sir. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," said Bernadine, her face burning with humiliation.
"Good," he responded. "Now get the blouse and bra off. I want to see those tits. I've been waiting for this moment all week!"
Bernadine sighed and unbuttoned the white silk blouse. James's eyes were glued to her. She opened the garment up, revealing her smooth brown skin and lacy white bra. Bending forward she dropped the blouse on top of her jacket. She reached around and unclasped the bra. The black woman didn't want to give him the satisfaction of how embarrassed and ashamed she was so she didn't even hesitate before taking it off. Her large breasts hung there, basking in the white man's gaze.
"You sure you don't want that drink?" he asked. "It might relax you some."
"No thank you, sir," she responded expressionlessly. "That won't be necessary."
"Suit yourself," he shrugged. "I hope you don't mind if I have one."
"No, sir," Bernadine said flatly. "Do what you like."
"Oh, you can be sure I'll do that!" James said happily. He turned his head and called "Beulah! Beulah!"
Bernadine was mortified as the old black maid hurried into the room.
"Yes, suh, boss," said Beulah. "What kin I git fo' you?"
"I'll take a gin and tonic, girl," he ordered. "With a slice of lime."
"Yes, suh," the maid replied. "I gits it right away."
Beulah turned slowly and looked the bare breasted negro up and down before meeting her eyes. The older negress smiled with a smug expression. As if the maid was pleased to see the younger woman put in her place and controlled by the white man.
Bernadine shuddered with humiliation as Beulah turned and left the room, on her way to fetch her master a drink.
"I hope you weren't embarrassed in front of Beulah," he said. "Don't be. She's seen me use plenty of niggers like you in the past so it's not like this is anything new for her."
Somehow that embarrassed Bernadine even more and she looked down at the floor. Furthermore the colored woman felt completely defeated and humiliated. She could feel the tears welling up, but refused to let James see her cry.
"Alright, don't stop now!" he said enthusiastically. "Take the skirt off."
Bernadine reached around and unzipped the skirt and let it drop to the floor. She stepped out of it and her heavy breasts swayed as she bent to pick it up and put it on top of her other clothing. She was now naked to the waist with only her panties, nylon stockings, and dress shoes left covering her.
"Here's yo' drink, suh," Beulah informed James as she returned to the room.
The older negress smiled with satisfaction at the humbled colored woman standing bare breasted in front of her employer. She held out the tray with the glass on it to him. He picked it up without taking his eyes off of Bernadine. The ice in the beverage clinked against the glass.
"Help her off with the rest of that get up, Beulah," James ordered.
"I be happy to, suh," Beulah replied.
The black maid knelt at Bernadine's feet and grabbed one of her shoes.
"Git dat foot up so's I kin git dis here shoe off," she instructed the younger woman.
Bernadine lifted her leg so Beulah could get her shoe off.
"Now da other one," said the maid.
The formerly dignified professional woman picked up her other leg to allow the lawyer's maid to take the other shoe off as if she was undressing a child. She put the shoe with other one and sat up on her knees. Beulah grabbed the waistband of Bernadine's panty hose as well as her panties and unceremoniously pulled them down to her knees, revealing her thick nappy black pubic hair.
"Nice bush," remarked James, sipping his gin and tonic. "But, I'd prefer you shave it off for next time. I prefer not have my poontang all hairy and wild. You hear me, girl?"
"Yes, sir," Bernadine replied, her voice cracking.
James's eyes wandered over Bernadine's nude body. His maid had the negro's undergarments down around her ankles. He smiled approvingly.
"Alright, girl," Beulah instructed. "Let's git dese off'n you. Lift up dat leg."
Bernadine lifted one leg and then the other as the old colored maid took off the last of the hapless negro's clothing. Beulah stood and tossed the panties and stockings with the rest of the garments.
"Excellent!" exclaimed James. "Just excellent!"
"Git dem hands up behind yo' head, girl!" Beulah said, exasperated. "Ain't you know how t' display yo'self fo' a man?"
"You tell her, Beulah!" chuckled the white man. "I tell you, Bernadine, Beulah doesn't miss a thing. She knows how I like my niggers presented."
Bernadine knew very well how to display herself. She hadn't forgotten the lessons her own mother gave her on the subject so that she'd please Mister Walker and his son, George. Slowly she lifted her arms up and clasped her hands behind her head. She stood facing the white man with a listless expression on her face.
"Dat's mo' like it," the maid said. "Keep dem elbows out, too. Dat makes yo' titties hang nice fo' da man to see. Dat's da way."
"Turn around now, girl," James ordered. "Nice and slow."
The naked colored woman began to turn around under the watchful gaze of the black maid and her white master. Both of them were drinking in her nude brown body.
"Not too shabby, eh, Beulah?" he asked. "Hard to believe she's mother to two teenagers."
"No, suh," the maid agreed. "She sho' don't look it. She's a purty one, alright. Nice big titties. Nice big booty. You sho' kin pick 'em, suh."
"Tits are a little saggy, though," he observed. "But overall, not bad at all."
"Yes, suh," Beulah replied. "But, you gotta 'spect dat after two chilluns. And dey ain't too droopy or nothin'."
Bernadine felt like livestock on display as the old black maid and her white boss commented on her body as if she wasn't there listening. The experience was humiliating and thoroughly degrading.
"You wanna be alone wit' her, suh?" Beulah asked as Bernadine completed her turn. "You gonna use her coochie now?"
"I'm afraid I don't have time," sighed James. "I've got a dinner date at six thirty and I haven't even taken a shower yet. I only have time for a quick blow job. I'll have to wait to fuck her some other time."
Beulah turned to Bernadine, her expression turning stern.
"You heared da man, girl," she told her. "Git down on dem knees an' git to work. He ain't got all day!"
Bernadine shuddered and realized she was powerless to refuse. If she didn't comply, then in a few years it would be Ebony being humiliated this way. She couldn't let her daughter end up stripped and kneeling to service some white man this way. She'd have to do it now so her child wouldn't have to do it later.
The naked black woman kneeled on the thick white carpeting in front of the attorney while his maid looked on. His robe had parted and his erection stood up straight. She was sure she could see pre cum glistening on the tip.
Bernadine hated performing oral sex. The only man she'd ever allowed to put his dick in her mouth was the man she'd ended up marrying. Even with him it'd only been a few times before they were married and never afterwards. And now she was being forced to suck this white man's cock under the watchful eye of older black woman. The thought of it made her feel sick to her stomach.
"Git on wit' it!" Beulah urged her. "Ain't you never sucked no dick? Grab da base wit' yo' hand and stick yo' mouf over da top an' git suckin'!"
Bernadine's face burned with shame as she followed Beulah's instructions. She reached out and touched the white man's cock. It was very warm and twitched in response to her hand. She wrapped her hand around it just above his balls and leaned her head forward. She opened her mouth and took the head of his penis between her lips and started sucking tentatively. The taste was bitter and she thought she would choke on it.
"C'mon, now, girl!" exclaimed Beulah. "Work it! Bob dat head! You gotta make dat mouf like a coochie an' fuck da' man's dick!"
The kneeling black woman started moving her head up and down on the white man's cock. He moaned with pleasure. She fought back the urge to gag.
"Dat's it," encouraged the maid. "Suck it good, girl. Keep bobbin' dat head like a good nigga. Make dat man happy he usin' you."
Bernadine sucked harder and moved her head up and down faster. She felt like a puppet. Just mindlessly obeying the humiliating orders. She almost felt like it wasn't really her there on her knees with a white man's cock in her mouth.
"Faster, girl!" Beulah urged her. "You kin take a break when da man's done wit' you. Suck hard an' it won't be too long!"
There was actually some truth to what Beulah said, thought Bernadine. If she could get him off quick, it would be over with all the sooner. She started sucking in earnest and vigorously bobbing her head on James's cock. Wet slurping sounds were clearly audible and embarrassed the kneeling negro. But, she didn't slacken the pace of her ministrations. She desperately wanted bring this degrading act to completion.
"Ummm..." moaned James, sitting back into the soft leather upholstery, his eyes closed.
"Keep it up, girl," whispered Beulah loudly in Bernadine's ear. "He almost dere now. Bob dat head good. Suck dat dick. Stroke it wit' yo' hand. Work it..."
Bernadine could feel the old negro woman's breath on her, her head was so close. Being coached and given instruction by this maid as she performed this disgusting act was humiliating. Still she kept up the tempo, slurping and stroking the white man's cock. Finally she felt him stiffen.
"Oh, fuck!" cried James as he ejaculated in Bernadine's throat. "Shit!"
The first spurt startled the black woman and she jerked her mouth off the white man's cock. The next jet of semen hit her in the face, right between the eyes. She turned her head slightly and took the next shot in the cheek. Thick creamy white liquid ran down to her chin. Another stream of sperm hit her forehead and was in her hair. The rest flooded out over her hand, still wrapped around his dick.
"Oh, yeah..." sighed the lawyer. "Fuck..."
Bernadine's first impulse was to wipe her face off. She raised her hand to do so, but Beulah slapped it down.
"Don't be wipin' dat man's cum off'n you!" she scolded her. "Dat's disrespectin' him! Don't you know nothin'? You wear dat spunk 'til he say you kin wipe it off or he leaves. Damn, girl! I gots to tell you everythin'!"
Bernadine hung her head and felt the jism dripping off her face onto her breasts. She started to stand up, but felt the older woman's hand firmly on her shoulder.
"Stay on yo' knees, nigga!" hissed Beulah. "Da man be tellin' you when you kin git up. You jus' stay like you is 'til he say so."
The black woman thought of Ebony. In her mind she saw her daughter happily going off to Smithmore and graduating with honors, never to be subjected to this kind of debasement. The girl would command the respect that she herself had once enjoyed, but now seemed a lifetime away. Her knees ached and the white man's cum was getting cold and clammy as it ran off her face and onto her chest.
James stood up, a long thin strand of semen hanging from the tip of his cock. He looked around and picked up Bernadine's silk blouse and wiped himself off with it before dropping it on the floor.
"Well, I better be getting ready now," he said. "Marcy won't want to kept waiting at the country club."
"Ah, you seein' Miz Marcy!" said Beulah happily. "She so purty! Such a sweet white lady. I think you two make a good pair. Yes, suh, she a real lady, dat one is."
"I'm glad you approve, Beulah," he laughed. "But she won't be so sweet if I'm late!"
"You got dat right, boss," the maid laughed, too.
"Oh, I almost forgot," said James absently. "I've got your check here, Bernadine. It's Friday. No sense in you waiting for it since I've already signed it."
The white man picked up an envelope from the coffee table and handed it to the nude kneeling negress. She accepted it and looked up at him, his semen still dripping from her face. She was still dazed and said nothing. She felt the old colored maid's shoe poking her naked ass.
"What do you say to da man, girl?" Beulah asked her rhetorically as if coaxing an ill mannered child. "He jus' gave you somethin'."
"Uh..., thank you, sir," said Bernadine in a small voice.
"Dat's mo' like it!" the maid said with satisfaction. "Dis nigga's gots alot to learn, suh."
"Oh, she'll be fine," James replied. "And, she sucks a mean dick. That's for sure. A natural cocksucker."
Bernadine blushed with shame and then felt the prodding of the maid's shoe kicking her.
"He be payin' you a compliment, girl!" Beulah was exasperated.
"Thank you, sir," Bernadine spoke, her voice cracking again.
"Okay," he said at last. "Enough of this. I've got to get going."
"Yes, suh, boss," Beulah responded.
"Don't wait up, Beulah!" laughed the white man. "I may be late getting home!"
"I don't know 'bout dat," said Beulah. "Miz Marcy's a respectable white lady, suh. She ain't gonna be doin' nothin' shameful. You know dat."
"Well, maybe I'll just have to bust a nut in you when I get home, Beulah," he said suggestively. "You know how Marcy gets me worked up!"
"You knows I's always available fo' yo' use, suh," Beulah blushed. "I be honored if'n you use dis ol' nigga. Don't matter if'n I's 'sleep neither, boss. You jus' come in my bed an' do yo' business. I be ready fo' use no matter how late you is."
"That's my girl," James said warmly. "Get Bernadine cleaned up and show her out."
"Yes, suh, boss," the maid responded.
James left the room, leaving Beulah and Bernadine alone. The older negress put her hands on her hips and looked down at the naked cum faced colored woman.
"Alright, girl," sighed Beulah. "You kin git up on yo' hind legs now. Let's go git you washed up. Bring yo' duds wit' you."
Bernadine slowly stood up, her body felt stiff. She picked up her clothing and saw the wet spots on her expensive silk blouse where James had wiped the cum off his dick. She hung her head and shuffled behind the big black woman as she led her charge through another door and down a hallway.
Beulah opened a door off the hallway and turned on the light. A fluorescent ceiling lamp lit the utility room. There was a washer and dryer and a big utility sink with a couple of wet rags in it. The big black woman picked one of them up and wrung it out. She then used it to roughly wipe the semen off of Bernadine's face. Most of her makeup came off with it. The maid then mopped up the cum that had dripped on the negro's chest and tossed the rag back in the sink.
"Good as new," mused the old negress. "Now git yo'self dressed an' be quick about it. I gots work to be doin'."
Bernadine dressed quickly while Beulah took a load of laundry from the washer and put it in the dryer. She didn't bother with her stockings and put them in her jacket pocket. The spots of sperm on her blouse were cold and it stuck to her skin where it touched her. She hoped the jacket covered them.
"All done?" asked Beulah. "Let's git goin'."
Beulah walked Bernadine through the hallway to the kitchen and the back door. The professionally attired black woman reached for the knob, opened the door, and let herself out.
"Next time, dis be da door you come in, hear?" Beulah informed her, again she spoke as if correcting a misbehaving child.
"Yes," Bernadine said simply.
"Good," gloated the maid. "We don't need no uppity niggas, do we, Mrs. Johnson?"
"No," replied the defeated black woman.
"An' don't you forgit to shave dat coochie, girl," Beulah reminded her. "Massa James don't wanna be fuckin' no hairy ass niggas."
Bernadine's felt another hot wave of humiliation shudder through her body and said nothing. She turned and walked around the side of the house to her car. She heard the back door shut behind her.
The colored woman got in the Volvo and drove towards home. Gradually the well manicured lawns and palatial homes gave way to undeveloped woodland. A mile or so later she bumped over the railroad tracks and back into familiar territory. Old houses with peeling paint build close to the road. Weedy yards with an occasional junk car. Barefoot black children playing and skinny looking dogs barking at them.
When she pulled into the driveway and parked the car near the weather beaten old house, she realized she couldn't remember the route she'd taken to get there. Her hands shook as she took the key out of the ignition.
Bernadine let herself into the house and stood at the bottom of the stairs. She knew she must be quite a sight. Looking up, she saw Ebony standing at the top of the stairs with a wide eyed expression on her face.
"What happened to you, mama?" asked the teenager. "You're late."
"What are you looking at, girl?" she shouted angrily up the stairs. "I've been at work. I'm doing this for you. I don't have a choice. I have to work if you want to go to a good college and not end up like this."
Ebony hurried away to her room. Bernadine sat heavily on the old couch in the living room.
Nothing's changed here, she thought. Not a thing.
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