Title: Black Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders
Author: Phoenix Arrow
Part: Chapter 3
Keywords: F/F, M/F, inter, sub, object, humil
Redistribution: only for personal, nonprofit use
Short Summary: White Cheerleading coach submitting to Black 
Cheerleader.



*********************************************************
Please, if you are under the age of 18, don't read this material. 
Just wait a few years and you'll be all good and legal for this 
kind of stuff. Now for the rest of you, Enjoy!

Phoenix Arrow - PhoenixArrow2000@yahoo.com

More Phoenix Arrow Stories Available at: 
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/PhoenixArrow/
*****************************


Black Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders
Chapter 3


	As Miss Simons walked through her house door, her mind and 
body ached terribly. It was an instant reminder of what she had 
witnessed tonight, and it made her want to cry. She had never 
been so used and humiliated like this before. 

Dropping the keys she went straight for the shower. She 
desperately needed to wash off the disgust.

The warm water felt good on her skin as she tried to clear her 
mind. The mind that held knowledge of the nights degrading 
activities. She had to keep her mind clear of them, or she would 
go insane.

The soreness of her breasts lessened from the gentle shower 
spray. Her hand slowly reaching down to feel her tender stretched 
pussy. Quickly the image of that terrible black dildo popped into 
her head and she quickly shook it away.

Turning around, she allowed the warm water to flow over her back. 
She noted that her behind was still a little sore. She could 
still feel the stings from Trish's strong hand.

Taking some soap she began lathering up her hands before washing 
her face. She needed to clean that first. It was still sticky 
with Amber's juices. "Gosh Amber! How could I?" Mrs Simons 
couldn't help but remember the look on Amber's pretty face. A 
look of heat and desire as the former coach lowered her willing 
tongue to her....to her..... 

Again she shook the memory away and moved down to wash her 
breasts. They indeed were still very soar as well. Miss Simons 
cringed as she remembered the cruel plastic stick. She continued 
to wash and sooth her large breasts for a few minutes before 
moving on.

Finally she had reached her poor vagina. It was still terribly 
stretched from the evil dildo. Easily 3 fingers slipped inside as 
she felt a sob coming on. "How could Trish be so demented?" She 
cried. "How could she use me like that and humiliate me in front 
of all those other women.....black women?"

At that moment the former coach could feel her pussy tingle. 
"Dame it stop that!" She yelled at herself. She knew why her 
pussy was tingling and she hated herself for it. The fact of the 
matter was that she had actually enjoyed being humiliated before 
all those strange black faces. She had wallowed in the 
expressions on their faces as she made a spectacle of herself for 
Trish.

This time her pussy pulsed and she slapped it. Then slapped it 
again harder. She didn't want it to be all excited and aroused. 
She didn't want it to be turned on as she recalled the 
humiliation of the past few hours. What had been done to her 
should have made her mad as hell.

But it hadn't.

Despite herself, her mind began drifting to the other white girls 
at the party. The other girls that were made to serve and 
entertain just like her. "Oh how degrading it must have been for 
them as well." Miss Simons thought. "Did they enjoy it? No, how 
could they? No one could enjoy behind humiliated in those ways."

Before she knew it, Miss Simons's mind had begun recalling the 
experiences. Recalling how she had followed Jennifer into the 
kitchen, relieved to get away from the black crowd for at least a 
moment but also still very nervous of what the night may hold.


"Hurry up!" Jennifer yelled at her, "Miss Brown doesn't like it 
when we slack off."

Miss Simons was surprised to hear Jennifer, or "Jen" actually 
talk to her. Until now the older woman had been very submissive 
and restrained, prancing around in her bra and panties while 
serving food. It caught her off guard to suddenly see Jen in this 
commanding persona.

"Are you stupid or something? Get over here and take this tray 
outside. You better not piss off Miss Brown. You have no idea how 
mean she can be when she's mad."

"But..."

Jen look back at her "But what?"

"But aren't you her boss?" Miss Simons should have known better. 
But she was dying to learn more about their twisted role 
reversal.

The half naked executive gave the former coach a stern look "Ya, 
so what's your point?"

"Well...I mean...why are you here taking orders from her then?"

Jennifer's face was now getting red. She looked as if she was 
going to slap Miss Simons. Instead she simply lifted the food 
tray and shoved it into the coach's arms.

"Get going Missy, the guests are waiting."

Miss Simons decided not to press the issue further and began 
walking towards the kitchen door. She realized that Miss Brown 
had indeed been right. Jennifer was an assertive, strong-minded 
person. But not here.

Emerging from the kitchen to the unwelcome sight of even more 
black faces arriving, she slowly approached a young black woman, 
in her early 20's, standing by the kitchen door.

"Would you like an orderv ma'am?" Miss Simons tried over the 
crowd noise.

The young girl turned and gave Miss Simons a look like she had 
just noticed her for the first time. "Oh, how nice. What a good 
girl you are. Do tell me, who do you belong to?"

Miss Simons blink several times, not knowing how to respond to 
the question before asking one herself "Belong to?"

"Yes you silly girl. Who brought you to the party?"

"Trish"

"Oh, so your Trish's new toy. How wonderful for her. She 
certainly knows how to pick them. What are you supposed to be 
dressed up as?"

Miss Simons lowered her eyes and blushed, "A cheerleader."

The young woman gave a slight giggle, "Yes you certainly are. 
You're a lot older than her usual white girls, and not as pretty. 
But don't you look just the cutest in that uniform. Well hurry 
along now."

Miss Simons gave a fake smile before continuing to the next group 
of women. Eventually she reached one of the few men in the group. 
He was sitting at one of the couches when she approached with the 
tray. 

"Orderv sir?"

"Don't mind if I do."

As she held it out to him, instead of taking one of the orderv's, 
he reached under her skirt and actually began grouping her left 
inner thigh.

She instantly jerked back, causing the remaining odervs to fall 
off her tray and onto the floor. With the surrounding women 
looking at her, she quickly lowered to the ground to pick each 
one up. Several times the creepy guy, who was actually quite 
young would place his foot beneath her skirt and lift it up, 
briefly exposing her to the room. Each time she'd struggle to 
move away.

Finally she collected them all and stood back up with the tray, 
but the man would still not leave her alone. Grabbing her by the 
hips and pulling her closer, he again reached underneath her 
skirt and began feeling her thighs. She was scared and didn't 
know what to do.

As he continued grouping her, she looked up at Trish with 
pleading eyes, hoping that she would intervene. When Trish simply 
shook her head and smiled wickedly, Miss Simons' heart sank. She 
would have to let him feel her up. As he began moving up her leg, 
she soon could feel his long dark fingers touching her dry outer 
lips.

She sighed at the intimate contact, feeling the strain of trying 
to keep the heavy tray up with her hands as he freely played with 
her folds.

The coach noted the black women sitting around her, watching her, 
commenting on what a slut she was being. Miss Simons felt so 
ashamed being played with like this, in front of other women. But 
she continued to stand there and take it, just as Trish wanted.

Despite the crude manner at which she was being played with, she 
could feel her pussy moistening. She looked down at the man's 
face and he returned a knowing smile.

But at that moment, Miss Simons could sense the focus of the room 
changing. Everybody was turning and looking over towards the 
stairs. Miss Simons looked to.

Coming down, holding another, older black man's hand was Amber. 
She too was wearing her skimpy cheerleading uniform and her long 
blond hair was a mess. As she arrived at the bottom of the stairs 
Miss Simons's could see that her inner thighs were shiny and 
slick.

In some state of shock, Miss Simons watched as Amber approached 
her location at the sofa. The young blonde was blushing as she 
obviously tried not to look Miss Simons in the eyes. As she 
arrived, she released the hand of the black male and took the 
hand of the one seated before her former coach. The guy, who had 
continued to lightly fondle the middle aged cheerleader, stood up 
and followed Amber's lead back towards the stairs. Soon they had 
both disappeared.


Still in surprised shock, Miss Simons made her way back to the 
kitchen to restock her tray. "What is Amber doing here?" The 
coach questioned. "And what is she doing with those men 
upstairs?" The former coach was beginning to form a possible 
scene in her head when Jen walked through the kitchen door.

"So, here for only a few minutes and your already dropping food 
on the floor."

"Oh, sorry. Its just that man kept trying to feel me up."

"Well get used to it. He likes to touch us. Just don't keep 
dropping your tray. You definitely do NOT want to get on Miss 
Brown's bad side."

"You still haven't told me why your taking orders from her." 
Again Miss Simons was pushing the issue and again Jennifer was 
getting upset."

"Your a real bitch you know that? Do you really want to know? Do 
you really want to know why I allow this black subordinate to 
treat me like a cow and show me off at her parties?"

"YES!" Miss Simons could hardly contain her enthusiasm for 
wanting to know.

"Its the same reason why your standing here dressed up like a 
freaking cheerleader and taking orders from an 18 year old black 
girl."

"Natural Dominance?" Miss Simons responded.

"That's right. Natural dominance. I thought it was bullshit the 
first time Miss Brown told me about it. She had come into my 
office one day after I was especially nasty to the mostly all 
black cleaning crew. She was right, I so did enjoy watching them 
slave away making my office look all clean and fresh. And I would 
never even thank them for it.

So when she came into my office later that day, told me how rude 
I was, and said how she would give me a good hard spanking for 
it, I laughed in her face. When I asked her how in hell she'd 
plan on doing such a thing, that's when she told me about natural 
dominance, where white women were naturally submissive to black 
women.

It sounded absurd and ridiculous. But soon enough she had me 
believing her. As she commanded me over her knees I found myself 
loosing all my nerve. The same nerve that got me to be an 
executive was now being replaced with a need to obey. I wanted 
her to punish me. To spank me. To turn my ass red with her hand. 
To put a white bitch like me in my place. Just like you do."

"What?" Miss Simons questioned back.

"You want Trish to dominate you, to use you, to treat you like a 
submissive cheerleader. Admit it!"

Miss Simons lowered her eyes and blushed. It was true and she 
knew it. She would do anything to be Trish's little white 
cheerleader, even attending one of these questionable parties.

"Well I can see it in your eyes. So that is why I take orders 
from my subordinate Miss Brown. Not because SHE wants me to, but 
because I WANT to. I WANT her to tell me what to do. I WANT to be 
her stupid white cow. Just like you WANT to be Trish's stupid 
white cheerleader."

Miss Simons now understood what Jen was trying to tell her. It 
all made sense. Even though Jen was the boss of Miss Brown at 
work, Miss Brown "naturally dominates" Jen, hence the reason why 
Jen has submitted to her, and why herself has submitted to Trish. 
Miss Simons new she may have been reaching a new understanding.

"Now come on, if we waste another second we'll both get in big 
trouble."

Miss Simons walked back out of the kitchen with a new food tray 
and began serving food to who ever wanted some. A few of the 
women would make rude comments to her as she stood before them, 
while others simply ignored her. Soon she made it to where Trish 
was sitting.

"You've been doing well Miss Simons. I am very proud of you. It 
looks like your doing a better job being a food server than you 
ever were being a cheerleading coach, that's for sure."

This made the former coach feel sad. She had always loved 
coaching her cheerleaders, and always thought she was pretty good 
at it. She had received tons of awards from many competitions. 
Yet if Trish told her she was a better food server, than it must 
be true.

"Are you surprised to see Amber here?"

Miss Simons nodded her head.

"The guy she brought down stairs was my uncle and that was my 
brother she took with her. His name is Thomas. He has a thing for 
white girls, but frankly I don't see why. Can you guess what he's 
doing with her right now?" Trish had an evil grin on her face. 
Miss Simons's eyes opened wide at realizing what Trish was 
getting at.

When my brother first saw her, he wanted her almost immediately. 
That was when she was captain of the squad and still little miss 
high and mighty white girl. Boy did I put an end to that. Can you 
just imagine what her parents would think if they knew their 
little girl was upstairs getting fucked by my big brother?

A little shiver went down the coach's spine. She knew both of 
Amber's parents. John and Cindy Lowenstien. John was a very well 
off businessman while Cindy was a very respected lady in the 
community. Both of them were known to frequent many high level 
functions and just the thought of their pampered teenage daughter 
serving black men and women was very stimulating....and even 
erotic, to the coach's regretful admission.

She found herself imagining Amber's nude sweaty body beneath the 
aggressive black male as he pistoned his large tool into her.

The image in her head quickly ended to the ringing of a small 
bell. Turning around, Miss Simons saw Trish's mother happily 
ringing it in her hand.

"Ok ladies, it is time for the main entertainment to get 
underway. I'm sure it's going to be a very good show tonight. 
Everyone take their seats please."

Miss Simons watched as all the women sat in the various chairs 
and sofas around the living room. It made a perfect circle as 
they all faced the inside.

Instantly Jennifer kneeled on the floor in front of where Miss 
Brown was sitting. Taking her que, Miss Simons set her tray aside 
and lowered to the floor before Trish. She felt a light petting 
on her head..."Good Girl". The coach could help but feel proud of 
herself.

At that moment, one of the female guests emerged from a door 
leading down to the basement. She was holding a leash in her 
hand, which Miss Simons quickly found was connected to the neck 
of a young woman.

The coach gasped at the sight. The white woman appeared to be 25 
or 26, with two large loop rings attached to her dangling breasts 
as she crawled behind the black woman. But the most shocking 
thing about the girl, was that she was completely hairless. Not 
only was her pubic mound bare, but the hair on her head was 
completely shaved off. She was bald.

Miss Simons studied the expressionless face of the young woman. 
It was as if she was a zombie, passively following the lead of 
the black woman tugging on her leash until they reached the rest 
of the group and took their seat. Sensing her former coach's 
curiosity, Trish leaned forward in her chair and began whispering 
into Miss Simons's ear.


"That girl is known as the party toy. Her name used to be 
Samantha, about the same time she was graduating from grad school 
and applying for a job. Fortunetly the woman holding her leash, 
Orlanda, was the one interviewing her for one such job. Not long 
after her fiance was very sad to learn about the new position 
she'd accepted, "Party Toy". Turns out she always had a desire to 
serve black women and never knew it."

Trish continued to tell the story of Samantha's submission. Of 
how she wisely choose to leave her fiance and volunteer full time 
for her new position. A position of submission and service to 
black women. Usually she is kept down stairs in the basement and 
only brought up for parties and special occasions.

As Miss Simons watched the young woman, she just couldn't believe 
that such a pretty, intelligent, aspiring young professional 
would give up a promising career and family to serve as a slave. 
But that's exactly what had happened. Apparently, she once had 
long lovely brunet hair but willingly allowed them to shave it 
all off so it could be made into a whip. Miss Simons gasped when 
she saw the whip in Orlanda's hand.


By now everyone had been seated around in the circle. Miss Simons 
patiently knelt on the floor, not knowing what to expect next 
until Miss Brown spoke up again.

"Ok ladies, time to get tonight's entertainment started. But 
first I'd like to thank all you girls for coming. I know how much 
you enjoy these parties, but I still am glad all of you could be 
here. Also, let me introduce to you all my daughter's latest 
conquest. The white creature kneeling before Trish is Miss 
Simons, her 'former' cheerleading coach."

Miss Simons blushed embarrassingly at the new attention as all 
eyes were now upon her.

"According to my daughter, Miss Simons was not doing a very good 
job as her coach and she has agreed sensibly to step down in 
favor of Trish."

Every one started clapping, making Miss Simons feel even worse.

"However, since my daughter is such a nice girl, she has allowed 
Miss Simons to remain on the squad as a cheerleader, and that is 
why she is dressed like she is today."

Again more clapping, almost as if they were applauding Trish's 
pity over the pathetic former coach.

"With that said, we can now begin with the entertainment. I think 
my Jen should go first, every agree?"

Everyone seemed more than happy to let Miss Brown's submissive go 
first. Miss Simons noticed that Jen looked as if she was a little 
nervous, but also getting excited.

"Very good. Ok white cow, go into the kitchen and get your 
things."

With a blushing face, Jennifer stood and disappeared into the 
kitchen. After a brief moment, she returned with a small brown 
box, and a bowl of cold milk. Setting the bowl down on the floor, 
she opened the box and presented it to Miss Brown. Trish's mother 
than nodded, reached inside the box and removed a bell. Quickly 
she fastened it to the neck of her white cow and ordered her to 
remove her bra and panties.

With an ever reddening face Jen obeyed, revealing to the crowd 
her sagging breasts and jelly ass. Miss Simons could see the 
absolute shame in Jennifer's face. Her body obscenely jiggled as 
she lowered her naked self on to her knees and hands. Reaching 
into the box again, Miss Brown took out a permanent black marker 
and placed it between Jen's teeth. Finally, with the bowl of cold 
milk right below her dangling breasts, Jen dipped each "udder" 
into the bowl. The cold milk instantly hardening her nipples and 
coating her breasts.

With a slap to the butt, Jen began crawling along the inside of 
the circle. With enormous humor, the women watched as she did her 
best to crawl like a cow, ass jiggling, sagging breasts swaying 
and dripping with milk.

To Miss Simons's never ending surprise, each woman took the 
permanent black marker in her mouth and, as the poor boss crawled 
to them, they would draw big black cow patches on her body. As 
her back, belly, ass, and legs soon became covered in black semi-
circles, the coach could actually see tears of total humiliation 
swelling in her eyes. 

This respected, middle-aged white woman was normally a tough, no-
nonsense SOB at work. Yet here, with real cow milk dripping from 
her nipples, a cow bell jingling away, and black patches being 
drawn all over her body, she was nothing but a stupid white cow. 
And at her own admittance, she was craving it. Without even a 
command from Miss Brown, Jen was soon mooing like a fool. Her 
face and upper chest flushed with shame, she soon crawled up to 
where Miss Simons was kneeling on the floor.

Just looking at the spectacle made the former cheerleading coach 
feel both scared and excited at the same time. She was getting 
intoxicated at watching the pure humiliation of this woman. 
Especially after the way Jen had treated her in the kitchen. So 
when Trish offered the marker to her coach, with a wicked smile, 
Miss Simons painted the Jen's nose black.

As the sobbing cowgirl held her face still, she shot daggers at 
the former coach coloring her. Finished, Miss Simons put the 
marker back inside the cow's mouth and watched as she moved on to 
the next tormenting black girl. Miss Simons continued to watch 
the degrading scene as Trish bent down again and whispered.

"Does any of this excite you Miss Simons?"

The coach didn't answer.

"Jennifer always pretends that she absolutely hates this. Being 
treated like a cow and humiliated for all these black women. Just 
by looking at her you would think this was pure torture for he, 
and it is. But take a look between those chubby thighs of hers. 
What do you see?"

Miss Simons looked at the heavy thighs of the older woman, and 
saw what young Trish was talking about. The insides of Jen's 
thighs were wet. Very wet. She was indeed getting off on this. 
Being humiliated was definitely turning the horny old cow on.

All in all Jen made her way around the circle ten times. Each 
trip she gingerly dipped her breasts into the cold milk. By the 
end, black patches covered almost every part of her pale body. As 
she knelt once again at Miss Brown's feet, spreading her knees 
apart, the high level executive, still covered from head to toe 
in black permanent marker, began shamelessly playing with 
herself. "The horny old cow" thought Miss Simons. However, she 
was also becoming aware of her own sticky inner thighs.

--

"Dame me, how could I have gotten so turned on?" Miss Simons 
cursed herself as the warm shower water continued to splash 
against her now relaxed body.

"I should have felt so bad for her, being made to prance around 
the room like a freaking cow. Where was my sympathy? Instead all 
I did was color her nose. Where is my humanity? How could I get 
wet watching a fellow white woman being degraded like that?"

But instead of shame, all she felt was her pussy give yet another 
spasm. She refrained from hitting it this time, choosing rather 
to just ignore it, afraid that spanking it would only make things 
worse. Instead she reached up and turned the water off. It was 
getting late and she needed to get some much needed rest.

As she dried herself off, her mind started wondering again. Back 
to that dame party. Back to the scene with the poor young woman. 
She didn't want to recall it. It was too horrible. Even if it had 
gotten her more excited than ever watching it, she just couldn't 
bare to recall the degrading, perverse scene in her mind.

Shaking the images of Samantha, tied and hanging from the 
ceiling, venerable to the wicked intentions of her black owners, 
Miss Simons wrapped the towel around herself and emerged from the 
bathroom.

Choosing the usual nightgown, she covered her body and prepared 
for bed. Yes, she really needed a good nights sleep. But what 
about Samantha? Would she be getting a good night sleep in the 
basement? Did she actually have a bed down there or did they put 
her in some sort of cage? And how could she possibly fall asleep 
after what she just went through? How could she sleep without 
images of those soft, but very cruel feathers gliding along her 
trembling body? Oh the agony she must have been going through.


Miss Simons was now lying upon her bed, unable to stop herself 
from again recalling the events of the night. Unable to stop 
herself from remember the lustful look on Jennifer's face as she 
took her place on the floor next to Miss Brown, fingers wedged in 
her cunt, fresh milk still dripping from the base of her tits.

All the women began clapping as Miss Brown patted her pet on the 
head, signaling that Jennifer was indeed finished and had done an 
excellent job.

"Good girl, you are such a good cow." Miss Simons couldn't help 
but think how ironic it was. Jennifer was her boss, with the 
power to practically fire Miss Brown. Yet despite that power, it 
was Jennifer kneeling naked at her feet and covered from head to 
toe with black patches.


"Ok girls, who should we watch next?" Miss Simons' heart began 
filling with fear. She didn't want to be next, if not at all. She 
couldn't bare to go through something similar to what Jennifer 
had. But fortunately for her, every one was shouting out for 
Samantha. Apparently she was a big favorite. 

Watching with ever growing amazement and curiosity, Miss Simons 
watched the bald girl rise from her kneeling position without a 
hint of rebellion and walk to the center of the room. Her arms 
were tied together with rope and attached to a pulley on the 
ceiling, which Miss Simons had only now noticed. Soon she was 
lifted off the ground and left hanging a good two feet. In that 
vulnerable position, two other black women held her ankles up and 
behind her, exposing the soles of her feet.

Finally, Orlanda opened up her own brown box and took out 5 long, 
white feathers. Immediately all the black women were jumping to 
get at one of them. Miss Simons noticed that Samantha was 
slightly shaking as Orlanda gave them away.

Soon there where seven or eight girls gathered around a shaking 
Samantha. The cheerleading coach looked over to Miss Brown and 
saw a very excited cowgirl watching from the floor. She was 
enjoying the show as well. 

The coach turned her attention back to the spectacle in the 
center of the circle. A bucket was now being placed on the floor 
directly below and between Samantha's legs. There was laughter 
and conversation from all in attendance as the next entertainment 
was about to begin. The anticipation was killing the kneeling 
coach. "What are they going to do to her? What are they going to 
do with those feathers and the bucket?"

Her questions were soon answered as the eight girls began to 
lightly touch Samantha's body. Caressing it with the tips of 
there fingers or the feathers. This confused Miss Simons. What 
exactly were they doing to her? But the strain on Samantha's face 
told her the answer.

As the black women continued to lightly touch the bald girl's 
body, Samantha struggled to compose herself. But soon she was 
giving out restrained giggles. Her eyes were starting to tear up 
as the women began focusing on certain areas of her body. The 
women began running their finger nails and feathers against the 
souls of her feet, under her arms, stomach, chest, neck, behind 
the legs.

Samantha was now openly laughing uncontrollably and sobbing at 
the same time. And it was clear that it was laughter of utter 
torment, not humor. Samantha was wriggling in her bonds, 
desperately trying to get away from the evil fingers as the 
tormenting women showed no signs of stopping. By now one of the 
black women found themselves between Samantha's open legs and 
began teasing her cunt with a feather. Samantha let out a scream 
to stop, but the woman continued to mercilessly torment the 
sensitive flesh.

Miss Simons was in awe of the sight before her, eight black women 
tickling a bald white woman.

After a few minutes other women began replacing them, tickling 
the poor girl in new ways and places. By now Samantha was in 
complete agony, shaking against her ropes and laughing and 
sobbing freely. 

After 10 minutes an exhausted Samantha finally lost complete 
control of herself and released her bladder, letting a stream of 
urine gush into the bucket below. "How utterly degrading" thought 
Miss Simons. "To be tickled to the point of loosing control of 
your most intimate bodily functions. In front of all these 
strangers no less!" Another shiver went through her body.

Yet Miss Simons hardly even realized her own two fingers working 
their way along her slit under the cheerleading skirt. The 
debasement was undoubtedly having an effect of the older woman. 
Watching as the black women tickled and tormented the submissive, 
bald white girl was shamefully turning her on. 

Trish had noticed as well. In fact she had spent most of the 
session watching her new white pet. Looking for her every 
reaction to the scenes before her.

Trish had smiled as she saw the older woman begin playing with 
herself. It bode well for the young vixen. Oh yes, she had big 
plans for her former coach, tonight and in the future.

Trish wanted to encourage this response as she lowered her head 
and whispered again into Miss Simons' ear "Its ok baby, play with 
your little puss for me. Rub that wet clity of yours, I know how 
badly you enjoy watching the show. In fact, I bet you wish it 
were you performing. You wish it were you crawling along while 
being painted, mooing like a cow. OR perhaps you wish to be the 
one strung up there with your hair shaved off, being tickled to 
the point of loosing your bladder."

Miss Simons' eyes grew wide and she shook her head. No she didn't, couldn't 
possibly have wanted to be like those women. It would be too much. Too 
humiliating. Too....too....

"Why don't you raise up that nice little skirt Miss Simons and show everybody 
what your doing under there. Show them how much all this is turning you on."

Miss Simons whined as she did just that. She couldn't stop herself as she began 
lifting her mini cheerleading outfit to her hips, openly displaying to everyone who 
looked her very wet, horny pussy, and shamefully continued playing with it just 
like Jen was.

Apparently, Samantha loosing control of herself marked the end of her show. It 
appeared to be the goal of these women to tickle the poor bald girl until she had 
lost complete control of herself. They began lowering the still sobbing, shivering 
girl to the ground, where she quickly rolled up into a ball. 

From Miss Simons view point, she could see the shiny glistening pink lips of 
Samantha. Just like Jen and herself, Samantha to was all wet.
 
--

Back on her bed Miss Simons came from her mini trance. A trance that, despite 
her desire not to, again caused her to recount the debasement of the hours past. 
And to her total revulsion, she had been feverishly playing with her cunt the 
whole time.

Quickly she removed her hand from her sex. She could no longer deny it, she was 
incredible turned on by what had happened tonight. And she was no longer angry 
for feeling that way, just merely disappointed. She wanted to believe that it was 
all a lie what Jennifer said, that natural dominance was not a fact of life. That she 
really didn't want to be dominated by other black women. But her juicy fingers 
were proof of how she felt. She enjoyed watching those white women get treated 
like crap, and worse, herself. 

She knew all too well who went next after Samantha's performance. It was her 
turn. Her's and Amber's.

Miss Simons buried her head in the pillow and started screaming "No...no". She 
couldn't, wouldn't remember it. It was just too much...Too intense....Too 
humiliating. Her and Amber ....together....with all those people watching. And 
that GIANT dildo, and that evil cane, and Trish's smacking hand.

No she would not allow herself to recall anymore. She refused to allow herself to 
do it. What was done was done, but she wasn't going to continue to relive her 
own degrading moments.

Turning off the light Miss Simons forced herself into a fitful sleep. Tomorrow 
was another day, and she'd start from there. Unfortunately for her, with sleep 
come dreams. Often vivid, nightmarish dreams of days past.


End of Chapter 3.
To be Continued...


***********
All Comments are greatly appreciated, please send them to: 
PhoenixArrow2000@yahoo.com

More Phoenix Arrow Stories Available at: 
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/PhoenixArrow/

Your encouragements keep me going :)

*******
This work is copyright (c) 2003 by Phoenix Arrow.  You may 
download and keep copies for your personal use as long as the 
author's byline and e-mail address and this paragraph remain on 
the copies.  Please do not post this story to any web site without 
permission from the author.  All other rights reserved.  No 
alteration of the contents is permitted.
*******
