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 had just finished washing the breakfast dishes when she heard Cindy ringing the bell. She dried her hands off on her apron as she went to find out what the white bitch wanted. The colored woman found her in the bathroom next to Mr. Andrews' study.
"I can't believe how disgusting it is in here!" she complained. "This is simply not acceptable. Look at the tile grout on the floor! Eeeww! It's supposed to be white! Get the brush in here and scrub it off."
The new maid fetched the cleaning bucket and brush, sank to her knees, and commenced to scrub. Her face was hot with shame for letting the diminutive white woman talk to her that way. If only she didn't need the money so desperately, she'd put her lights out.
Latessa finished the area behind the toilet and was startled to took up and see Jack standing in the doorway watching her.
"You gave me a scare, sir," she told him. "I didn't know you were there."
"Oh, I've been standing here a while," he ventured. "I love seeing a fine negress like yourself down on her hands and knees like that. I could watch it all day. Why don't you come by my study when you've washed up."
Finished at last with her latest degrading task, Latessa knocked on the study door. She felt a tightness in her chest in anticipation of what he had in mind for her.
"Come on in," he called to her. "Close the door," he instructed, once she had entered the room.
Jack Andrews sat behind a large wooden desk in a high backed leather chair. The walls were paneled with light colored wood and the floor was covered with a dark red oriental rug. A few large leather upholstered chairs occupied the space between the door and the desk. There was a fireplace, though warm as it was, no fire in it.
On the wall above it there was a large oil painting depicting a landscape of green trees, blue skies, and in the distance a white mansion. Latessa started to notice the other paintings depicting green fields and people standing in them. Black people. A painting behind the desk depicted three nude black women standing in front of the same mansion over the fireplace.
"Latessa," he continued, "that's a nice name. I think I'll call you Tessa for short. I understand you used to work at that the big company downtown. Managed a whole department, Tom tells me."
"Yes, sir," she replied, wistfully remembering her old life, "I did."
"It's a shame about the down sizing. They were a good client of mine. We lost a lot of business," said Jack. "That's a lot of responsibility, managing so many people like that. I know. I run an entire business and I feel the burden of that responsibility. Employees, they just have to do the job. Somebody else worries about making the payroll and keeping business coming in. Me."
"Here, too," he continued. "The only thing the domestic staff in my home are responsible for is serving and pleasing me and my family. That's all. I worry about everything else and take care of them. You've got no deadlines, no concern for others depending upon you, none of it. Just serve and please. It's not so bad, is it?"
"No, sir," Latessa looked down at the floor. "I suppose not."
"And that convenience store!" he exclaimed. "I had to help get you out of there! There's little pressure of responsibility there, but no one there appreciates your services like I do here. And minimum wage to boot. It's just a waste."
"You're a find looking negress, Tessa," Jack shifted gears. "Very attractive. How old is your daughter? Eighteen? It's hard for me to believe that you're old enough to have an eighteen year old child. I wouldn't think you were more than thirty by looking at you."
"I'd like you to take that dress off, Tessa," he continued. "I'd like to see you naked. Now."
"Excuse me, sir?" she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"I said to take off your clothes," he reiterated. "Get naked for me. Now."
"But, sir!" she protested, "I'm a married woman!"
"That doesn't bother me," he answered. "Your job here is to please me and it would please me to see you naked. Please don't argue with me. It's inappropriate. It's not your place."
"But what about your wife?" Latessa knew already that wouldn't stop him.
"My wife?" he laughed. "Why should she care? You're just a nigger. She knows what I like to do with the nigger girls. Get undressed."
Latessa was shocked to hear the matter of fact way he dismissed her protests. She was trapped. Her choice was to walk out or to submit to him.
The negro woman reached around behind her and untied the apron, tossing it into the nearest leather upholstered chair. The zipper of her dress went down the back and she struggled awkwardly with it before she got it down and let the dress fall to the floor. She stood there in her slip in the middle of the oriental rug.
"Massa Jack," she pleaded, "this ain't right. Please don't make me do this."
But while Latessa begged, she could feel her heart pound and her pussy getting wet.
"Keep going, Tessa," he said calmly. "Take off the slip."
Latessa pulled the slip over her head leaving her bra, panties, and shoes. She stepped out of the shoes. She wasn't wearing stockings or even socks.
"Now the good part," said Jack with a smile. "Let's see those udders. Lose the bra."
Udders? Was this white man actually adding to her humiliation by comparing her to a cow? How could he expect her to continue?
"Massa, please," she begged. "This is shameful what you're makin' me do."
"Shameful?" he asked. "Are you ashamed of your body?"
"No, Massa," replied Latessa, "That's not what I mean. Taking my clothes off here is shameful."
She felt light headed. A bead of sweat rolled off her forehead. Her pussy was even wetter.
"Ah, you feel shame at exposing yourself to me," he said understandingly. "Good. I think that's adorable. Take off the bra."
She reached around and unclasped the bra and let it slip down her arms. The black maid quickly covered herself with one arm and let the garment fall on the floor.
"Protecting your modesty, are you?" he asked. "That's precious. But you should have no modesty with me. You have no responsibility to protect it anyway. Let it go, Tessa. Take it easy. Drop your arms and let me see what you've got there for me."
She could feel her pulse hammering in her ears and her legs a little weak as she dropped her arm revealing her full, but firm black breasts. She dropped her head in shame as well.
"They're a beautiful set, Tessa," he said smoothly. "Perfect size, just the right amount of sag. No way you're a day over thirty with a figure like that. But don't stop there. One more item to go. Time to get naked for me."
It was all so objectifying. His words were complimentary, but he was still talking about her as if she were a thing.
Latessa pushed her panties down past her knees and let them drop the rest of the way to her ankles. She stepped out of them, unable to look at the white man behind the desk. She could smell her own scent and was afraid Jack would be able to tell how aroused she was.
"See, that wasn't so hard," he said, admiring her nude form. "Turn around. Slowly. So I can see the back."
Complying, she slowly turned. He drank in the picture of her backside. Her dark skin, soft shoulders, shapely waist, and ample ass.
"Very good," he said approvingly. "You know, I've never seen a nigger girl who didn't have a fine black ass. You are certainly no exception. Put your hands behind your head. It shows off the breasts nicely and it's deliciously submissive."
Keeping her head bowed, Latessa raised her hands and clasped them behind her head. She could feel her legs trembling slightly.
"Beautiful," he observed. "Look at me, Tessa. Let me see your face."
She looked up at him, though she left her eyes downcast.
"Come around the desk," he instructed her. "Keep your hands where they are and come back around here."
The black woman slowly walked across the rug with her hands still behind her head. He turned his chair to one side and she stepped up to the spot in front of it. He reached his hand out and ran it down one of her arms and back up again. He ran his palm gently over her breasts, her nipples were already erect.
"Nice..." he murmured.
He used the back of his hand to caress her belly and then ran the backs of his fingers over her curly black bush.
"Move your feet and open your legs, girl," said the white man as he continued to enjoy the sensation of the negress's pubic hairs.
Latessa shifted her weight and spread her feet further apart and felt Jacks hand go between her legs.
"Good girl," he praised her. I love the way you look in this position. I have all my girls display themselves to me like this after they've undressed for me. Don't forget it."
He ran a finger along the outside of her slit while looking into her dark brown eyes.
"What's this?" he asked with mock surprise. "Your pussy is wet, Tessa. And here you were complaining so much. You like this, don't you?"
She felt her face flush with embarrassment. He stroked her sex gently and felt her shudder in his hand. The dampness betrayed her arousal and encouraged him to do more. He slipped his finger in her slit and ran it from her opening to her clit. This elicited a gasp from the colored woman.
"Ah, the sweet spot," he said knowingly. "Nigger girls love to have the sweet spot played with, don't you?"
Finally he felt her begin to buck her hips almost imperceptibly and push herself into his hand.
"You do." observed Jack, stroking her a little faster, a little harder.
Her pussy pushed against his hand harder.
"Should I stop?" he asked teasingly.
"No, Massa," she replied.
"Now we're getting somewhere," he said. "I think I will stop unless you ask me to continue."
She felt so ashamed of herself for allowing this white man to put his hands on the most intimate parts of her body. And now, letting him do it wasn't enough for him. He expected her to ask for this treatment!
"Please, don't stop, Massa." Latessa requested.
"I'm sorry," he teased, "I don't know what you mean. What shouldn't I stop?"
He wanted her to spell it out! Her face was hot, embarrassed at the position she was in. But her pussy burned with desire and she didn't want the feeling she was getting from his attentions to end.
"Don't stop playin' with my coochie, Massa," she replied.
Her eyes were closed and she was dropping her hands down from their original position.
"What are you, Tessa?" he asked as he continued to stroke the black woman's pussy.
"A... a..." she struggled to concentrate as the pleasure she was feeling distracted her. "A maid, Massa."
"Not your occupation, girl," he told her, "something more fundamental. Something basic. Tell me what you are?"
She understood what he wanted her to say. She couldn't say it. Not the word that angered her so when it was used by others towards her. This white man wanted her to use it to describe herself.
"A nigger, sir." Her voice was barely audible.
"Excuse me?" he asked. "I didn't hear that."
"A nigger, sir," she said more loudly.
"Mmmm," he responded, "that felt good, didn't it? Say it again, so we both can hear it."
"I'm a nigger, Massa," she said more loudly still.
"Very good, Tessa," he praised her. "That's what I want to hear."
The negress continued to grind her pussy into the white man's hand as he penetrated her with his finger and played with her clit with his thumb. She moaned softly.
"Would you like me to make you cum?" he asked.
"Yes, Massa." she responded in a husky voice.
"Then ask."
"Please, Massa. Please make me cum."
"All right," said Jack. "But you have to ask for permission before you do. Niggers can't cum without asking first."
"Yes, Massa," she gasped.
He continued to work her pussy and she kept grinding it against his hand for a few more minutes. Latessa was obviously getting close and was breathing hard.
"Can I cum, Massa?" she said dreamily.
"Yes, Tessa," he answered. "You may cum for me. Cum, nigger."
"Ohhh! Ahhh!" she vocalized. Jack was rubbing her pussy hard and fast now. Her arms were by her side now. "Ohhh!"
He felt the black woman gush into his hand leaving it sticky with her juices. She opened her eyes and looked down at the white man who had just masturbated her to orgasm.
"Get on your knees, girl," he instructed.
Latessa quickly obeyed.
"What do you say to me?" he asked.
"Thank you, Massa", she answered, looking up at him smiling, her pussy still radiating heat.
He held his sticky hand out to her and wiped it off on each side of her face. Then he put it right in front of her. Without being told she began to lick it off lustily.
"Excellent." he said. "Not only are you learning, but you're figuring it out for yourself. I told you, nigger girl. It comes naturally to you."
She looked at him and smiled, her face now wet with her own cum. What happened, she thought as she gradually came down. Why did she behave so shamefully? How could she face her husband?
"You may get dressed now, Tessa, and resume your other duties." he said reaching for the phone. "I've got some calls to make."
Latessa rose to her feet and walked over to begin putting her clothes back on while he dialed. The white man watched her dress as he waited for an answer and then began his conversation about some business matter.
When she was finished, the negress left the study and almost immediately crossed paths with Cindy.
"Well, look at you!" she exclaimed as she noticed the black maid's disheveled appearance. Stepping closer to her, the white woman wrinkled her nose. "Damn, you even smell like a nigger now! I don't know why you get upset when I call you what you so obviously are. You're an animal in heat, girl. A bitch nigger."
Latessa was mortified to run into Cindy while she was reeking of her own sex. She didn't doubt Jack's word that his wife didn't care about his activities. Yet she still was less than comfortable with it herself.
She hurried to the servant's bathroom off the kitchen. The black woman washed her face and brushed her hair, finally replacing the maid's cap.
She had barely finished freshening up when Tom arrived to take her home.
"So was today any better?" he asked once they were headed down the road.
"It wasn't so bad," she answered.
* * *
That night, Latessa didn't turn Tom away. He reached out for her, and caressed her back as she lay there. She rolled towards him and his hands went to her breasts, gently squeezing them, and then down to her belly and between her legs.
In her mind, it was Massa Jack's hands on her, not her husband's. And when he rolled on top of her and entered her, it was Massa Jack fucking her, not her husband.
She knew she was slipping away and didn't even try to hold on.
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