Latessa's New Position | 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
Latessa arrived at the crack of dawn the next day, already loathing the thought of another day of indignities and petty humiliations.
It was after she'd finished serving Mr. and Mrs. Andrews their breakfast when Cindy took Latessa aside.
"I noticed that this floor is filthy," she said. "You'll have to do something about it. There's cleaning stuff around here somewhere. Look for it. I expect you to do a proper job of it."
"Yes, ma'am," replied the black woman.
I could wring her neck, thought Latessa. The sassy bitch.
After clearing away the breakfast dishes Latessa searched the cabinets and closets and finally found a mop and bucket. She mopped the floor and then went on to start on the beds and laundry.
Bertha turned up while Latessa was preparing lunch.
"I didn't expect you until later on," said the older woman.
"Massa Jack likes me to be comin' in early," the big black girl replied, checking to be sure her cap was on straight before walking out of the kitchen.
I can imagine why, thought Latessa.
Cindy was the only one who came down for lunch.
"I thought I told you to wash this floor!" she said with disappointment. "It looks like it's barely been touched."
"I mopped it like you said, ma'am," explained Latessa.
"Well, that's not good enough!" Cindy said, exasperated, "I want the floor to sparkle. You have to scrub it."
"All I found was the mop," replied the new black maid.
"Well, then," she said , "you have to look harder then, don't you? Why don't you go look downstairs. Do I have to explain everything to you, nigger?"
Cindy turned and walked away. Latessa could barely contain her anger. That was the second time that snotty bitch called her nigger. One more time and she didn't know what she'd do.
Latessa ventured down into the basement. There was a scrub brush on a shelf in the laundry room. Again she heard the sounds of sex coming from the room at the end of the hall. She couldn't resist taking a peek.
This time Bertha was on her knees, her head resting on the floor turned towards the door with her eyes closed. She still wore her maid's uniform. The bottom was thrown up over her back revealing her big naked black ass. Jack was on his knees behind her, his pants down, though otherwise dressed. He was pumping her as before, with Bertha grunting with each thrust.
"You like yo' nigga's big black ass, boss?" she asked while he fucked her. "You like usin' yo' nigga dis way?"
The muffled slapping sound of his crotch against her fat ass continued steadily along with the white man's heavy breathing. Bertha's eyes opened and she was looking right at Latessa where she stood in the hall, the half open door between them.
"Dat's right, Massa, you use yo' nigga how you like to," encouraged the big colored girl, giving no indication that she saw Latessa.
Latessa hurried back up the stairs and sat in one of the kitchen chairs, her heart gradually slowing down. She wondered if Bertha had actually seen her. She wondered what had possessed her to look in on them.
How could she be aroused by that, she asked herself. What was it about seeing that nasty white man and his fat black bitch that was having such an effect on her? And her debasing herself that way! Calling herself a nigger for him. Asking him for his approval while bent over like an animal. Asking to be used like some kind of thing! It was humiliating and Latessa felt shame for her. Then she thought of her reaction to it and felt shame for herself.
She looked at the scrub brush and got up. Latessa filled the bucket with soapy water and got down on her hands and knees and began to scrub the kitchen floor. The smell of the cleaner filled her nostrils as she scrubbed. The sound of approaching heeled footsteps got her attention. She saw the white woman's leather pump clad feet right in front of her face. The black maid slowly looked up at her.
"This is more like it," said Cindy with satisfaction. "See, girl, this isn't so hard. You just need to apply yourself."
"Yes, ma'am," Latessa mumbled back and returned her attention to her task as Cindy walked away.
Girl. She was at least fifteen years that white bimbo's senior and she had the nerve to call her girl. The black woman was half tempted to tell her that her husband was downstairs banging the other maid. That would wipe the smug look off the bitch's face.
* * *
Eventually, one thirty rolled around and Latessa was waiting for Tom to show up to take her home when Bertha walked up to her.
"I saw you, girl," she said. "What was you doin' snoopin' 'round down dere?"
"I'm sorry, Bertha," Latessa replied sheepishly. "I went down for the scrub brush an' heard a noise. I didn't mean to invade your privacy. I had no idea."
That last part was a lie, she knew, but she was embarrassed at having been caught, and shamed at being turned on by it.
"Well, you better mind yo' own bidness," Bertha told her, hands on her hips. "It gon' be you, soon 'nuf."
The big black girl turned and walked out.
What? Oh, no it wouldn't. How could she even think a thing like that! thought Latessa. Letting that white man touch her? That would never happen.
Latessa couldn't bear to even discuss the indignities she'd suffered when Tom finally arrived. They rode home without speaking just like the day before.
* * *
That night after rebuffing Tom's advances again she lay awake in bed. The image of the big black girl on her knees, presenting her sex to her white master like an animal in heat, was burned into her brain. What it must be like, she thought, to just allow yourself to be taken and used that way. She drifted off to sleep trying to think of something else, anything else, but couldn't.
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