Bernadine Returns to Her Roots
By Neal


Chapter 2 - Bernadine Remembers


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.



  
Bernadine-02