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Vanessa and the Boys

By: mattwatt43



The car quit; it just quit. No warning, no evil noises under the hood. No, nothing so civilized as that, it just quit! Vanessa stormed and whacked the steering wheel, only hurting her hand. 

"Shit, shit, shit!" she said to the close, warm southern darkness, "BMW's are not supposed to just quit! I mean come one!"

But then another thought flashed through her head: "Maybe nobody ever told BMW's that."

There was a giggle in that but she realized that this was not a time for giggles. Here she was on the way home; she decided to take this damn 'short cut' on the back roads and her flashy German car just quit.

She sat and thought for a moment. Then she remembered that she'd just past a bar a little bit back. It looked like the kind of bar that would be called a 'road house.' She also remembered that as she passed the bar she was really tempted to stop for a drink.

She'd had a fairly long day but the business that brought her out this way was settled satisfactorily, and it would be a short day tomorrow. (That had caused her to smile and say to herself:

"It shows that heaven smiles on women lawyers!") 

At least she hoped that was the case.

She struggled to bring herself back to her situation, and that caused her to focus once more on the 'road house'. 

"Do I really want to go in there?" she asked herself. "You might not have any kind of choice, babe," came the answer from the sensible part of her mind immediately.

"A road house," she mused, "That sounds so interesting." 

The twinge about having a drink there came back in force. She knew she needed to be careful about those thoughts. She didn't want to lose herself in them, and begin to act out.

Frequently Vanessa had assaults of what she privately called her 'dirty thoughts'. It always involved her in the same kind of situation. 

She leaned back in the seat for a moment and let the tension flow out of her. She let her thoughts go there. In that area her 'dirty thoughts' she was always 'nessa' the 'nigger' slut. (She would allow herself even to use offensive language like that, when in her 'subservient' moods.) 

The scenario changed usually subtly but there was a sameness that carried her thoughts along. The fantasies were usually ones where she, respected lawyer, got to give in to her slut side. She wallowed in those thoughts, when she allowed herself. She was used. She had a mouth for cock sucking, a throat to have pricks rammed down into it, an asshole for raping, and a pussy that was simply available.

They were powerful thoughts and at times overwhelming but she tried to only give in to them, when she was alone and could play with herself, while engaging them.

She shook herself out of this, when she discovered her hands had run up under her skirt and were already rubbing the silky nylon material that covered her pussy hair.

"No,no," she said out loud now, for emphasis, "Enough of that crap. We're in kind of trouble here, and the only sensible thing to do is to go to that road house back there."

("Oh, yes," she thought suddenly, "It was that word, that phrase, 'road house', that produced the sexy, dark picture and lead her thoughts into her 'dirty' area.") 

She shook her head but then there was one last defiant thought: 

"Maybe I'll go in there and dance in just my panties and thigh highs!" she giggled out loud at that.

She was being bad but she liked to toy with these kinds of thoughts, and she dearly loved the word 'panties'. It would set her off more surely than a word like 'road house', even though that as certainly appealing.

It made her think of panties, of feeling them as she pulled them on or pushed them down over her hips and ass. It made her think of the softness of them, of the sweet soft clingingness of them. It made her think of pulling them off and holding them to her nose to sniff the wetness of them. For she knew that her panties were wet now!)

"Shit!" she exploded then. "Get your fucking mind on business, girl," she chided herself, and pushed 'nessa' away so that she could deal with this.

She slapped the steering wheel again, exploding into "Fucking BMW!" one last time as she got out and began walking back to the bar. (She consciously refused to use the other word for the place. She just wasn't going there mentally at all.)

She approached the place with a bit of trepidation, and no little amount of anxiety. She reminded herself that this was, after all, the rural south. The place had mostly pickup trucks and could well be dangerous.

She bucked herself up then by reminding herself that she was a lawyer and could take care of herself. (And 'nessa' was safely stored for a hot meeting later at her house.)

She pushed her shoulders back and entered the bar. 

Immediately a loud voice rang out: "Nigger alert!"

Instantly the bar tender, a huge man with a beard, produced a baseball bat from under the bar and banged it down on the surface of the bar, getting everyone's attention.

"None of that trashy shit in here! Stow it or get out!"

No one said a word for a moment or two, and then the level of conversation went back to what it had been. 

Vanessa walked to the bar, realizing that all eyes were on her.

"Let them look!" she said to herself, as much to give herself courage as any other reason.

She knew that she looked good. Her skirt was just above her knees, and was fashionably tight. She had left her suit jacket in the car due to the warmth of the evening, and had simply forgotten to put it on. Her blouse was nylon with a small ruffle in front. If you looked really hard, you could see her soft lace bra beneath the nylon camisole that she wore.

As Vanessa approached the bar tender, she was kind of sorry that she hadn't remembered to put her suit coat back on. But what was done was done.

"Excuse me," she said to the big man behind the bar. "My car just stopped up the road a little way,and I couldn't get any signal on my cell phone. Can you maybe help me?"

"Sorry for your trouble, missy," he said to her, then he thought a moment.

Vanessa was immediately aware of him calling her 'missy'. She actually struggled then to decide if she like it or not. The word almost seemed like a caress given to a servant. But then she stopped and wouldn't let her mind go there.

"Well, Jimmy Tate is in the back room; he's the local mechanic and you might talk to him about it."

"How do I get there?" she wanted to know.

"Just follow me," he said with a smile. 

As they walked he asked her about what brought her to this part of the country.

She mentioned that she was a lawyer from the city and was there to settle the Dabny estate.

"Lady lawyer, huh?" he said with a smile.

Vanessa caught herself shivering. But said to herself severely: 

"No, I just won't go there."

She was determined to keep 'nessa' at bay, no matter how much her alter ego wished to come out and play.

The bartender led her to a door at the rear of the bar and opened the door for her. She thanked him and walked into the back room.

"Tate," the bartender called out; "Woman here to see you. Lady lawyer."

There were a few calls of "Woo, Woo, Woo!" 

And at least one voice in the group said, almost ominously: "Black lady lawyer."

Followed by another from a different part of the room: "Good looking black lady lawyer."

But the bartender ignored them.

Another voice began: "N . . .!"

But the bartender cut that one off, and said: "Hold your fucking tongue!"

Turning to Vanessa he said: "Sorry, ma'am, the boys can get rowdy."

"That's fine," Vanessa said, though far from feeling fine just now.

Then the bartender closed the door, and Vanessa looked around.

There was no sound in the room now. Every eye was on her. 

It was immediately clear to Vanessa that she was in deep,deep trouble. Of course, there was no sign of anyone acting out of line in the room. But she looked on, and scanned the room. There were about 15 guys in the room. No women at all, except her. Everyone in the room was white except for her.

She could simply feel her alter ego, her 'nessa', coming to the surface. Here she was in the absolute southern boondocks, in a bar, in the back room, amid a group of southern men, probably red necks to the man, and she was excited! 

She tried her techniques, she tried to push 'nessa' back into place and be the lawyer, be the one in charge, be the one with the brains and the answers. But she looked around and knew it wasn't going to work.

In this room, for these guys, she'd just be 'nessa'---by her own description and in her own words, the 'nigger slut.'

Vanessa was aware that only one thing was going to save her from a really long night in this back room, and that was the possibility, maybe slim, maybe not, that no one would pick up on who she really was. Maybe they'd just see a lady lawyer and simply leave it at that.

But, of course, there was the voice inside that was hoping and pleading that someone would indeed find her out and then it was 'party time for nessa.'

One of the voices piped up then and asked Jimmy in particular but the room in general: "Hey, Jimmy, what'd you do now that they're sending this lady lawyer out here to see you?"

There were shouts at that, while the one named Jimmy tried to quiet them down.

When Vanessa saw who it was that she had to speak to, she walked forward. Again the comments in the room ceased, while eyes were on her. She tried especially to halt the swing of her hips, and ass but she knew that was futile. She bought her clothes with the idea in mind that they would show off her hips and ass, and she was enough of a general flirt to love seeing a visible panty line in the mirror.

By then she stood at the table where 'Jimmy' was drinking with two other friends. 

Vanessa gathered her courage, and said quietly but distinctly-----she was trying to keep this calm and under control; it was her only hope, defense against becoming 'nessa' right here and now:

"Uh, Mr. Tate," she began.

There were hoots then and calls of "Mr. Tate!" throughout the room.

'Jimmy" raised his voice and shouted: "Shut the fuck up, and let her talk."

Vanessa was positive that he almost said: "And let the bitch talk!"

Just the stray thought had her flowing again into the crotch of her panties. 

"Now," Jimmy said, and the room was quiet, "You wanted to talk to me?

"Us, yes, sir," she began.

There was an undercurrent then; they certainly noticed that use of 'sir,' though for her part it was still innocent, she knew immediately that it opened the door a crack for 'nessa' to creep through.

"My,uh, car stopped up the road, and the gentleman behind the bar . . ."

Interruptions now: "That's no 'gentleman' that's Huck."

"Hey guys," Jimmy said again with some exasperation, "Shut the fuck up and let us talk here. Missy here needs some help."

The word 'Missy" again intruded into Vanessa's mind, and caused the same kind of disruption that its use by the bartender had.

She was slipping, and she knew it. The heat in the room, male heat, male heat facing a defenseless female, it was all creeping up on her, and she was going to give in, she just knew it. This was her life time fantasy in as clear as possible, this was it:  

Her, nessa, alone with a room full of red necks that she had to appease; it all reminded her of the stories that she'd read on the internet. They were stories that told about strong, lovely black women who allowed themselves to be reduced to almost a slave mentality by white men. They were stories where such bright and 'with it' black women were constantly calling the white men things like 'Massa' and the like. They might be absurd but to Vanessa, in her 'nessa' state, they were food and drink, and they always led her to sexual abandon.

Those were her dominant thoughts, when he'd used the word 'Missy' again. That was the reason why she said what she said next; why she said it before she knew, and let it slip out before she could catch herself:

She said to Jimmy Tate: "Thank you, Massa!"

And every single thing in the room stopped! The noise stopped; the glee of good natured ribbing stopped.

Vanessa was mortified, realizing what she's just done. She realized that she couldn't really take it back; nor could she tell them why she'd said it. She hoped it would be ignored.

"What did you just say?" Jimmy Tate asked.

"I . . .uh . . .I . . ." was all that Vanessa could muster. 

She was lost now; she knew it. She'd be as honest as possible but she was every man's in the room for the taking. 

"I said, girl, what did you just say?" Jimmy Tate now said in a demanding voice.

Vanessa right then recognized herself no better than the black bitch in the 'Neal' stories that she loved so much, from which the word 'Massa' had sprung. 

"I'm so sorry, that just slipped out," she tried to bluff.

"I asked you, bitch, what you just said! Now tell me!"

An order, a direct order, and Vanessa knew that she didn't have a choice here; nor did she want one.

"I said: 'thank you, Massa!'"

"Well, fuck me!" Jimmy Tate said, "A real live polite black woman! Is that what you are, girl?"

The continued use of terms like 'girl,' and 'missy' had the effect of corralling Vanessa and hemming her in. She was in familiar territory now but it was not her lawyer territory.

"Yes, sir," she said back to him, "I am."

"Are what?" Jimmy Tate wanted to know.

He was pushing her toward this and both of them realized it.

"I am a real live polite black woman!" she said, and then she sighed a great sigh, and continued: "I'm a genuinely polite nigger."

There was whooping in the room again. The atmosphere had changed. Vanessa knew that; Jimmy knew that; they all knew that.

Jimmy said to her: "Well, good; you just sit your black self down here and we'll talk about your little problem."

Then turning to one of the other guys at the table, he said: "Timmy, go get us a bottle; the counselor here, our "genuinely polite 'nigger'" will pay. Won't you?"

"Yes," Vanessa said.

But Jimmy Tate held up his hand, and everything stopped for a moment. He stared at Vanessa and said: 

"Say it, girl! Say it!"

She did: "Yes, Massa!"

They whooped and cheered again.

Timmy was back soon with a bottle of bourbon. He put it on the table with clean shot glasses.

Jimmy Tate looked at Vanessa and said: "You just say that, when I tell you too, girl; understand?"

This time she slid into it as though it were natural: "Yes, Massa, I understand."

"Now, before we consider your little automobile problem, I insist that you have a drink with us from this bottle that you've so kindly provided. And since there are three of us here, and we've already been drinking, you just have to catch up. Is that clear?"

Vanessa knew that she should walk out of this back room right then. But she wasn't sure that they'd let her, after what had gone on, nor, more importantly was she sure that she wanted to.

So, instead she just said: "Yes, Massa," again. And the men loved it.

Jimmy Tate put three shot glasses in front of Vanessa. He filled them and pushed the toward her. At the best of times, Vanessa was only a social drinker, not a heavy drinker. But she was deeply into 'nessa' by this time and smiling, took the shot glasses one after another and downed them.

They cheered. She smiled.

"Now here's one to get you up to where we are," Jimmy said, pouring another, which Vanessa downed. 

The liquor was having an impact immediately. She'd been planning on dinner somewhere on the way home, and had an empty stomach.

The situation and the room were rosy for her almost immediately. In addition, the liquor served to turn her on even more than she already was.

She waited for Jimmy, since he seemed to have the initiative.

"So, what's your name, girl?" he wanted to know.

"My name's Vanessa," she said, then added, "But I prefer 'nessa'."

"Ah," he said, "Nessa, is it?" After saying it, he nodded to her.

"Yes, Massa," she replied.

"And you're a lawyer?" he asked politely, nodding again to her.

"Yes, Massa," she said, and was surprised that it began to sound normal, just as in those 'Neal' stories that she loved to read.

"And what else are you?" he wanted to know.

"I'm just 'nessa'," she said simply.

"Yes, just nessa," he mimicked. 

"Does nessa like to dance?" he asked then.

It surprised her, and pleased her because she really did like to dance and only rarely had the opportunity to do so.

He turned then, and said to the room: "Hey, someone put some music on, our nessa likes to dance?"

A voice called out: "What else does the black bitch like to do?"

But Jimmy Tate tried to calm them down: "All in good time," he said, "All in good time."

They were content with that.

Jimmy led nessa out to the dance floor in the middle of the room. Everyone turned their chairs and watched.

She danced well, she had good moves on the dance floor; they were moves that continued to show off her nice sized tits and her spectacular ass. Jimmy danced well also. There were appreciative comments all around them as they danced.

"Tell me about your car, nessa," he said, as they danced.

"It's a BMW," she said in a kind of whiney voice, "and it just stopped."

"Well, that's fortunate for us, isn't it?" he stared at her as he said it.

She took his clue: "Yes, Massa, it certainly is."

"I love it, when you say that," he said smiling.

Nessa grinned back at him and just danced.

Then they played a faster number. They had been in a body to body waltz, when the music speeded up. He said to her, just before they started the new dance.

"Now I want you to aim that rich, black ass of yours to every corner of the room and just shake it for all the guys!"

"Yes, Massa," she said, knowing the retort.

And she did. As nessa danced with Jimmy Tate to the fast dance, she moved around and, leaning over from the waist, shook her magnificent ass at the men around the room. It brought on cheering and clapping,and calls and statements about her 'ass' from all parts of the room.

Nessa was certainly having a great time. 

Jimmy made a kind of gesture and then he was joined on the dance floor by two other guys. Nessa danced with all three of them. She raised her arms to the air and swayed and jumped to the music. Jimmy kept his eyes locked her hers in front of her. One of the other two ran a hand down nessa' side on his side and the other did the same on the other side.

The men were all gathering around at that point. Nessa boogied and just enjoyed putting herself into the dance. When the music ended, someone showed up to congratulate nessa on how well she danced. 

She gave a broad smile and a 'thank you.' Then she was handed another shot of bourbon. She raised her hand to the crowd and then downed the shot, as they applauded.

Then the music started again. Nessa was ready to dance again. It was certainly no longer Vanessa, the lawyer. Now it was nessa and she was just in the process of being whatever these guys wanted her to be. A part of her was basically ashamed of using the word 'Massa' so often but her mind had wandered to those stories that she loved to read, and that were such an influence on her, and she was ready to use that kind of language if it is what they wanted.

They danced again. It was nessa, Jimmy and the other two. While she'd been drinking her latest drink, which really put her into nothing short of a cooperative mood, they'd been talking, and agreeing. They surrounded her and swirled into the dance; they were playing almost all fast numbers now.

Nessa knew that something was about to happen. She sensed it. A part of her was fearful of taking this to another level, and a part of her was downright eager to do so. 

As they danced, Jimmy said to her: "Skirt's probably too tight to let you dance freely, isn't it?"


Vanessa and the Boys



Nessa smiled and simply shook her head at that one. He said nothing. He'd made his point with her and everyone with the continued use of 'Massa', and just didn't insist on it. The whole issue had gone beyond that. They were going to get serious now.

One of the other guys that was dancing with the her, reached out at that point, and she felt the waist band button of her skirt unbuttoned. There was clapping then generally in the room. The same guy pulled the back zipper of her skirt down, and then nessa reacted.

She shimmied and shook, moving her hips and ass back and forth, and in the process forcing the skirt to the floor. The guys cheered! She responded with a broad grin, and kicked the skirt off to the side.

She now went back into the action of the dance but now she wore heels, her bra and blouse, thigh high stockings and purple panties. The panties were see through nylon, and every time she moved and pointed to a different part of the room, nessa was showing either her ass or her pussy to them.

They had all crowded around the dance floor now. Nessa was dancing with abandon. A hand reached in and handed her a shot glass. She tossed the shot off and blew a kiss at the person who'd given it to her.

Jimmy then reached out, as they danced. His hand took the first of her blouse buttons and unbuttoned it. There was a cheer. The other guys dancing with her were sliding their hands over her, one had a hand on her panty covered ass, the other was reaching for her pussy. Nessa responded by moving her hips and ass back and forth in a quick fashion to encourage the groping hands.

Jimmy, grinning now, had gotten to the next button. Then came the next; now nessa's lacy bra was visible. There were some shouts in the room of 'Take it off!' or 'Strip the bitch!' or "Let's see the lawyer's tits.'

Nessa responded by stepping out away from the three guys and dancing around the circle and shaking her visible ass at each part of the room.

Then Jimmy was back and the next button on her blouse was unbuttoned. Nessa now responded by grabbing the flaps of her blouse and flapping her bra covered tits to the room as she twirled.

One last button; Jimmy moved in, the button was unbuttoned and the blouse swung free. Nessa stripped it down her arms and flung it to the crowd. It was put with her skirt. 

Now the three male dancers stood back from her; the music kept on surging and moving, and nessa, with her arms in the air strutted around the circle of the guys, showing herself off.

Her nipples were stiff, and poking against the fabric of her bra. She would turn to a group of the men, and shake her bra covered tits at them, and then stalk off to the next group of men.

At one point, she was standing and shaking her tits at a group, on one of the four sides of the dance floor, and someone jumped up, spun her around and took the bra from her.

She raised her arms, and someone handed her a shot glass. She tosssed it off and then went around the square dance floor squealing at the top of her lungs.

Someone shouted: "Squeal piggy squeal," and I just caused her to raise her voice in a squeal all the more.

A new tune blared out then. She swung into they rhythm of the tune and continued her dance around the group of men.

Now, when her back was turned to one group, one of the men jumped on the dance floor and with a quick hand pulled her panties down past her wiggling ass cheeks, so that they now rested at the level of her thighs.

Nessa, lost now totally into the bourbon, and the sexy atmosphere, moved around the circle again, only this time with her panties around her thighs. She showed off to them, all of them. She showed her pussy, and she showed her ass, and she wiggled her tits at them.

And it didn't bother her then because it's what nessa wanted to do.

The song stopped and another started. Nessa began to dance but then Jimmy was back on the dance floor with her.

She stopped, when she saw the look on his face. She stopped and waited for him to do whatever he was about to do.

He moved over to her, in time with the music but when he got to her, instead of dancing now, he reached out a hand and pushed on her shoulder. He used some pressure, some force and under the pressure, nessa went to her knees.

He stared at her. She knew what was next. It was where the fantasy always led. But now she was here with these 15 guys and this would be the real beginning.

She said, more with the mouth formation than with words, since the music was loud: "Yes, Massa."

The room got quiet, except for the music then, as she reached up and opened the zipper on Jimmy's jeans. She reached inside his zipper, and her hand came out with a nice sized stiff cock.

Her eyes never left his for a moment, as she fetched his cock out. 

"No hands," he said to her.

"No hands," she said in reply, and put her hands behind her back.

The guys around took up a chant then: "Cock sucker! Cock sucker! Cock sucker!" as nessa bent her head forward and engulfed the head of Jimmy's cock with her mouth. She opened wide to receive him. His cock head slipped into her open mouth. 

She closed her eyes with the sensation but he slapped her face, and said to her: "Eyes on me."

With the cock blocking her mouth she tried to rasp out another 'yes, Massa,'. As if it were her theme for the evening.

Her fantasy had begun for her now. She had the first cock in her mouth, and she knew that she'd end up serving every single one of them. She was too drunk to be afraid any more. She simply began to work on sucking the cock in her mouth.

Jimmy then stopped her progress, and grabbed nessa by the ears. There was a cheer then, when he did that. He had a hold of her ears and began to slide his hips back and forth to fuck her mouth. He held her head rigid by he ears and fucked her face.

His cock was long enough that, when he began to penetrate her throat, she began to react to it and gag. She tried to move her hands out to intervene but someone was holding her hands. Jimmy just grabbed her ears tighter and plunged farther into her mouth and throat. 

The crowd of men were cheering then. Nessa was drooling from the sides of her mouth down the front of her tits.

And then Jimmy was cumming. He came in her throat but pulled out quickly enough to begin to spurt into her face and hair. When he was done cumming, he pushed his softening cock back into nessa's mouth for cleaning.

She was drunk, and stunned, and about to be the object of a gang bang but she simply waited for what was next. It came quickly. Jimmy's cock was replace with another one. It was a repeat of what had happened before. Her hands were held, and the cock plunged in and out of her throat.

They lined up then; each was eager for a turn.

Soon enough, while one was fucking nessa's face, one began to fuck her pussy. She was being plugged from both ends. It was a first for her, although it was part and content of every fantasy that she'd ever had. For the next half hour it was that way. She had a cock in her mouth and one in her pussy at the same time.

She was on her knees bending forward in the center of the dance floor; constantly she had a man in front of her, holding her by the ears, or by a hunk of hair, and just as constantly she had a man behind her fucking her pussy. In every case, when a guy began to cum in her mouth, he'd then pull out and finish cumming in nessa's face or her hair. After a bit, he face was covered with ropes and strings of cum. Someone came to her then and brought a towel to wipe her face and hair. Then someone handed her a shot glass filled with bourbon, and she tossed the drink down before going to the next guy to suck off.

In a while, everyone had had a chance to cum in nessa's mouth or pussy, on her face, in her hair, on her ass or the back of her thighs. She was covered with cum. She was tired too but so far along that she didn't care what would happen next.

Someone said that she needed to be cleaned up; then hands grabbed her, and lifted her from the floor. She was hustled out the door into the night, and thrown on the grass behind the road house. Once she was sitting in the grass, one of the guys appeared with a hose. They turned the hose on nessa then. It caused her to squeal all over again, and gave the guys standing around a reason to cheer, and clap, as nessa tried to move around and avoid the stream of very cold water. But she tried in vane. They followed her around with the hose and hosed the cum off of her face, her ass, and her body. 

"Stop wiggling around, cunt!" someone demanded.

And nessa did, so that they could get the water of the hose on her. A few of them came to her and held her down, as the guys with the hose turned down the force of the water, and then inserted the hose nozzle into her pussy. 

Nessa squealed into the night, as the nozzle was held inside her pussy. The sound of her discomfort simply turned the guys on more. 

Jimmy appeared in front of her then. She looked up at him, she was shivering with the water running down off of her in streams and the night breeze.

"How's our cunt?" Jimmy wanted to know.

"Fine," was all that nessa could manage. She wondered then if they were done with her.

"My car?" she croaked to him.

"Don't worry about your fucking car," he said severely. "It'll be fine. But we're not finished yet."

"Not?" she asked

"Not yet," he said. 

He turned to the others then, and said to the group, which was ready for anything at that point.

"Okay, let's take her inside and this time we'll fuck her in the ass."

Nessa said nothing. She was carried by the guys back into the back room of the road house, and deposited on the dance floor again.

Jimmy cozied up behind her, his cock stiff again; he slapped her ass sharply, getting another cheer from the guys. and then he pried her ass cheeks open. 

"Ever had it up the ass, nessa?" he asked.

"A few times, sir" she said, as he pushed his cock into her asshole, and she grunted in response.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh!" she wailed as he began to fuck her in the ass. Her moans and grunts accompanied his fucking all the while. 

With a grunt of his own, Jimmy finally came, holding onto nessa's ass, and slapping her ass vigorously as he pushed finally into her and came.

He bent down to speak into nesssa's ear then, as someone else replaced him at her ass, pushing yet another cock into her asshole.

"Gonna go and see about that BMW now, nessa; you just enjoy yourself."

"Thank you, sir," she croaked, forgetting in the continued sensation of the fucking the words she'd used all evening to show him that she was indeed subservient.

Nessa was given yet another drink, which served to keep her groggy and available. She was beyond the point of enjoying the fantasy that she was in the middle of. She had just become a series of holes that the guys were constantly using.

Most, though not all, of the guys were ready for a chance at nessa's asshole Somewhere in the process of having her asshole fucked by everyone, they also began the practice of having nessa clean their cocks, after they'd been in her asshole, with her mouth. It became a part of the ritual of the fucking. Someone would take his place, slide his cock into her, now accommodating, asshole, fuck her good, then cum and slide out with a 'pop'. Then he'd scoot around to the front and grab a hold of nessa's hair or her ears and force his dirty cock into her mouth. 

Nessa complied with everything. She'd often wondered, when dealing with these kinds of fantasies, what it would feel like to be so far beyond the simply sensual pleasure of fucking. And now she was there. She had no regrets at this time. She was deeply into this fantasy, and it's stark reality, in that back room. But by now she felt little and simply lapsed into a kind of sex toy being used. And, strangely, she found contentment in that also. 

In this fantasy, nessa was hard on herself. She was into a kind of sexual place where being the fuck toy of all these men was what her 'nessa' deserved. 

Periodically someone would give her another drink. They seemed to be having less and less effect on her. 

She'd been ass fucked by everyone, pussy fucked by everyone, she'd sucked everyone's cock at least once, and many twice in the ass fucking clean up. She wasn't moving now. She was in the middle of the dance floor and had cum all over her again, since the guys has been simply wiping their cocks off on her during the ass fucking part of the evening.

Then Jimmy was back. He knelt by her and talked softly into her ear. The others stood around but they seemed to be waiting for Jimmy to decide what was next. Maybe the evening was over. Even if it was, they'd had a wail of a time with the black lawyer bitch.

"Car's fixed, nessa," Jimmy whispered to her. "Aren't you happy?"

She looked up at him and the spark of recognition was there:

"Yes, Massa," she said as clearly as her sore mouth and throat would allow.

"Looks like the fucking is over too," he said.

She looked at him and simply shook her head 'yes' this time.

"But," he continued, "We're not done here yet. We still have some games that we want to play. Do you want to play some more games, nessa?"

"Yes," was her simple comment.

"Okay, guys" he said, "Let's get the bitch outside and hose her down; then we'll play some more games with her." 

"Nooooooo," nessa wailed, when she heard what he had in mind.

Jimmy slapped her face; it quieted her down completely.

"That's what you say, when I just fixed your car and treated you to a glorious evening of sex with all your friends here, you cunt?"

Nessa was sobbing. 

"Sorry, sorry, Massa," she said, using the word now to try to placate the angry Jimmy.

He just demanded: "Take the bitch outside and hose her down now. We'll maybe teach her some manners."

Nessa was hauled bodily outside and the ice cold water of the hose was turned on her again. The guys were treated again to the spectacle of the cringing black lawyer on her hands and knees trying to dodge the cold, cold stream of the hose's water.

They hosed her up and down, and then, as before, the hose water was turned down and now the nozzle was inserted into nessa's asshole.

She squealed again then.

"She really does sound like a pig," someone commented and the others laughed and agreed.

Finally, the hose was turned off and they hauled nessa into the back room again. 

Jimmy had sent someone to bring something but nessa never heard what it was. 

Someone brought a chair from one side of the room and placed it in the middle of the dance area. They sat the tired and almost recumbent nessa in the chair. She sat listlessly, her skin gleaming with beads of water, after her latest hosing down. They tied her legs to the rungs of the chair, and they tied her hands around the back of the chair. 

One of the guys came in from the side carrying various things, and a cheer went up from the rowdy rest of the group.

The cheering brought nessa around a bit. She struggled briefly against her bonds. Then Jimmy was standing there in front of her.

"What . . .? Uh . . .what . . .now?" she asked in a hesitating voice.

"Now some fun," he said with a grin.

Nessa, afraid now, said in a begging voice: "I've been good here; I've done everything you've asked me to do; please don't hurt me!"

"Hey, nessa," Jimmy protested, "We're lovers not fighters!" 

Everyone laughed at that.

"It's just that we've messed up your hair with everything that we've done here, and we're just going to correct that problem." 

He smiled at her and she just looked apprehensively at her.

"And besides, nessa," he said, while stroking her face, "If we hurt you, you'll never want to come back."

They all laughed at that. Even nessa smiled then.

Then she saw what they had and what they intended to do, and she wailed a loud "Noooooooo!"

"Get her panties," Jimmy said quickly, "Shut the bitch up."

Someone brought her panties around and shoved them into nessa's mouth.

Jimmy took the razor that they'd brought into the room and very carefully, very deliberately began to shave nessa's head.

She sobbed all the while the procedure was underway. The guys laughed and cheered, saying that her hair wouldn't be a problem for much longer.

Finally, Jimmy was finished, and nessa was bald. She said sobbing with her hair on the floor all around, as the guys, one by one, came up and patted her on the bald head.

Next they shaved her pussy. They had nessa totally bald now.

She sat calmly, as the cleaned up the hair. She tried to retreat to an inner place where she could 'retreat and regroup', so to speak. 

There was one thing that she realized then: despite the humiliation of having her head shaved after all the sex with these guys, it turned her on. She even smiled now, with her hands finally released, and ran a hand over her bald head.

"Fuck," someone said, "The bitch likes it; she's fucking amazing!"

Jimmy was back now and, bending over, said to nessa:

"Well, love, you have hair all over you; so guess what?"

"Oh no!" she said, but this time almost with renewed energy.

"Yep!" Jimmy smiled, as he said it.

They grabbed her, despite her protests, and out they went again. Down she went onto the already wet grass, and they turned the cold hose water on her again. 

She sat and shivered, a very different looking woman than she was, when she came into the road house earlier for help with her car. She was naked, she'd been fucked in the mouth by all the guys from the back room. She'd been fucked in the pussy; she'd been fucked in the ass. She sat in a heap and just sighed.

They picked her up by the arms, and took her back into the back room of the road house again.

"Guys," she said in an almost pleading voice: "Look, I've gone along with everything you're done, even shaving me. Can I just go home now?"

Jimmy laughed, "But this is the fun part," he explained, turning her upturned and hopeful face sad instantly.

"Grab her, boys, and bring her with me," was Jimmy's next command. 

They obeyed with glee, taking the shivering, naked lawyer, and following Jimmy.

They went into the men's room.

"What now?" nessa said plaintively.

But Jimmy just smiled at her, as they took her toward one of the stalls with the intention of having her sit her on the toilet.

"Oh, no, come on, guys!" she said.

Jimmy grabbed her by the cheeks and said, directly into her face: 

"Shut the fuck up, nessa, or the next thing we do, after hosing you down again, is beat you til you're nothing but blood and broken bones.

She took the threat seriously, and was quiet.

He looked at her, a mean look on his face: 

"Say it!" he ordered.

Nessa was sobering up now and reluctant to return to that silly stuff that she'd read in the 'Neal' stories.

"Say it," Jimmy shouted at her slapping her face.

With tears in her eyes, she rasped out: "Yes, Massa!"

It brought cheers from all of them.

Jimmy approached her, as they held her there in the men's room. He was smiling and said to her:

"Tell you what, nessa, we'll give you a real live chance here. There is a choice to be made. We will either put you in the toilet stall there and each get a chance to piss on you. Or we're going to take you outside. But not for the hose this time; we'll take you outside and stomp your ass and beat the shit out of you good."

"Please don't do that, Massa," she said, reverting to the language she'd used before in her desperation not to be beaten by them.

Jimmy lashed out and slapped her face. 

"Don't fucking interrupt me," he said with vehemence.

She hung her head then and was silent.

But Jimmy brightened up right away. He lifted her chin and said to her:

"As I was saying, we have that choice, and since you're a lawyer and know how to deal with these things, and talk to change people's minds. Why you just go ahead and convince us that we should take you and piss on your instead of beating your ass."




Vanessa and the Boys



Nessa looked around, she looked particularly frightened.

But she smiled, kind of gathered herself together and began to speak.

"Massa Jimmy, friends, let me begin by thanking you all for what you've done for this poor girl tonight. I came here, you know because you saw it, looking rich, dressed rich, acting rich; I came here being the part of this important together lawyer. A lawyer who only stopped by this place, where you love to come and have a few drinks and have fun, only because I needed help. Not because I was ready to be honest with you about who I was, or what I was. But it was my sincere good fortune that you saw through all of that, and recognized that beneath the fancy clothes, which you so rightly soon helped me to take off totally, beneath the fancy lawyer clothes I was only a black, nigger girl who needed a man to show her what her place was. To show her, I mean, that she needed to be a naked nigger girl, kneeling at the feet of her Massa, and opening her nigger mouth to take in his cock, if she'd let him have it. This was no regular chance to just gobble another nigger cock for her. No, her Massa was going to let her suck on white cock. And for that, Massa, this nigger girl, ain't no lawyer here now, just you gentlemen and nessa this nigger girl, she just thanks you. And then, when this cup you give nessa to sip from is so full but you show how good a Massa you is by sharing her; giving her in your big hearted gesture to your friends. This nigger girl, Massa, this nessa got to dance with you, to dance for you. She thanks you for that. She got to be the one who was given all those white cocks by your friends; given them into her mouth, into her black pussy, into her round nigger ass. And then you all goes and helps nessa out by washing her filthy whore body, when she needs it. Do you see why this girl should be grateful, Massa Jimmy? Do you just see? And now I thinks that you should end this here evening the way it needs to be ended. Nessa she's been good, she's done everything you tole her to do. But you need, all of you need to show this black assed nessa one more time, what she's worth in this here road house: you just go ahead and you take her into that stall, you tie her there and you just do what's right and use your white pricks to piss on her. It's what this black nessa, your nigger, Massa, deserves. You just go and do that. Ain't no cause for you to hurt ol' nessa but is right and proper to piss on her."

She finished and Jimmy and all of them were clapping and cheering at her 'performance.'

Then they took her into the toilet stall; they tied her hands above her head to the piping, and her ankles to one another with the rope extending back behind the toilet. They'd let the seat up and made the naked woman straddle the porcelain, clenching it with her thighs to keep from sinking into the toilet.

Jimmy said to her: "Comfy there, nessa?"

"Yes, Massa," she said. 

"Fit okay?" he wanted to know.

"Fit is kinda big," she admitted, "What with this seat up; makes old nessa have to grip her thighs against the toilet bowl . . ."

"To keep your black ass from falling into the toilet!" he finished it for her laughing.

"Yes, Massa, to keep this nigger girl's ass from falling into the toilet, where she belongs.'

She looked around then and smiled at them all, as they watched her. 

For her own self, and for the kind of humiliation she was seeking in this place with these men, the language of slavery was working its way directly to her pussy, which might be bald but was certainly wet again. The very thought that it was going to end up with them pissing on her pushed her beyond the range of her sexual fantasies into a land of simply body heat and need.

She smiled and said to them:

"You just step right up and you go ahead and piss on your nessa; she don't mind none; she needs it; she deserves it. What this nigger girl for, if not for you white men to piss on?"

Jimmy stepped up first; he opened his fly, took out his cock and simply began to piss on nessa. He pissed on her thighs, her pussy area, bald now, and up to her face.

He shouted at her to open her mouth and keep it open.

Nessa accepted the treatment with a sob in her throat, and realized that she was close to another of the many orgasms that she'd had that night.

She writhed on the toilet as the sexual passion swept over her.

"Fucking cunt loves it!" someone said.

They lined up and every single one of them stepped in to piss on nessa.

She took it all, and even came close to another orgasm, as they were finishing.

They ended up patting each other on the back and doing a lot of laughing and giggling about the 'black piss bitch' in the toilet. It was as though the merriment was covering their shame at having done it.

She sat there, her thighs clutching at the sides of the porcelain of the toilet. She was covered with piss, every exposed part of her had been pissed on. Hear newly bald head gleamed with a sheen of yellow tinted liquid.

She looked up at Jimmy Tate, standing now in the entrance to the toilet and looking down at her.

"Thank you, Massa Jimmy!" she said quietly and simply.

Someone mocked her and said in a falsetto voice: "Thank you, Massa Jimmy!"

Jimmy snapped over his shoulder: "Hey, give the girl a break; she's had a hard night!"

They all laughed at that.

"Thank you, Massa," she said again to him.

"Oh, don't thank me yet, nessa; we still have one more treat for you."

Her eyes clouded, and she only stared at him dumbly. She had no idea at all what they might have thought up to now.

"What do you think,girl?" Jimmy asked.

She thought and sighed: "I guess, Massa, that since this nigger slut's so pissy dirty, we have to have that hose again."

Jimmy laughed then: "You really don't like that hose, do you, nessa?"

"No, Massa Jimmy," she said, allowing herself to lapse into the dialogue now to keep him or them from getting angry here at what looks like the end. She still had the possibility of that beating in her mind.

"This nessa don't like that hosin'"

Jimmy laughed again: "Then we just won't do it."

Then turning to the others, he said: "Get her, boys; let's go we're ready."

They acted quickly and she had no time to think or react. She was suspended kind of between two of them, and simply borne along with them. They went out back again. Not far from the place where they'd put her earlier in the grass to hose her down was a kind of pit.

It was a dirt pit but periodically, when they had participants, it was filled with water and stirred up to become a mud pit for women's mud wrestling. They took nessa to the edge of the pit. There they set her down.

Nessa looked into the mud pit and realized what was on their mind. She looked around kind of hopefully that maybe they were just kidding.

"May I speak?" she asked.

"Sure,nessa," Jimmy said, "What's on your mind now? I bet you're going to ask for the hose now," he said this last with a kind of cruel smile.

"Sure am, Massa Jimmy, please don't throw nessa into no mud hole."

"Beg," Jimmy said to her. "Get on your hands and knees and beg.

Nessa assumed the position on her hands and knees and began:

"Massa Jimmy, and all you gentlemen, nessa's been a good nigger for you all this night; you showed her, her place; and she thanks you; you asked her to dance and she did. You took off her clothes and she liked it, and she danced naked for you all. Then you all showed this nessa that she's a common nigger whore and you used her that way. And, truth to tell, your nessa just liked that: liked having her pussy, and her mouth and this round black ass used by you fine white gentlemen. Why don't you please just clean this nessa up like you done before? Why don't you use hose this nigger girl down again? You certainly had fun doin' that. I'se beggin' you, Massa Jimmy! I'se jus beggin' here; please don't use your nessa this way."

Jimmy laughed; they all did, and they all clapped for her. She remained there on her hands and knees at the edge of the mud hole. She looked around a bit fearfully. It was almost as if it was one humiliation too much for her.

Jimmy grinned at her: "Well, done, nessa; well said." 

Then he put his boot against the side of nessa's ass and gave her a great shove; he pushed her and she lost her balance and tumbled into the mud hole.

She came up sputtering, and coughing, and simply, totally covered with mud.

"Great evening!" Jimmy said, "Nessa, you're lots of fun; now you come on back, you hear?"

They all left then, laughing.

Nessa sat alone in the mud hole. She thought of the way she'd spoken, and what she'd let them do to her, and it simply brought tears to her eyes. At the same time, she knew, she knew deeply, that if she weren't covered with tall this mud, she be playing with her pussy right now.

"Girl," she said to herself, "You're fucked up in the head."

"Yes," came the answer, "But it's so fucking grand, and it's so, so hot."

A voice broke into her thoughts then:

"Come on out of there,"

It was Huck. The cars, and pick ups were all gone. It was as if, when they were finished with her finally, they might have feared some kind of retribution.

"Yes," she said, no longer lapsing into the southern black patois that she'd been using. "Here I come."

She walked out of the mud hole, totally covered with the muck. 

"Stand over there," Huck said quietly to her.

She did as she was told, and moved over to stand in the grass spot. He turned the hose on her. She shivered but was happy to have the mud off of her. Eventually he had her all washed off.

He looked at her, when he was done with the hosing. He spoke to her then slowly:

"Come here for a minute."

She looked at the gentle giant of a man ordering her to come toward a tree by the back, and she did as she was told.

"Now turn around and grab a hold of that tree."

She did as she was told again. Then she heard his zipper, and she felt his hands on her ass.

He slapped her cold wet ass. 

"Uhhhhh!" the sound exploded from her.

"Marvelous ass!" he said, and he slapped her again.

He kept slapping nessa's ass. She kept grunting with the same kind of explosive sound.

Then she could feel his stiff cock rubbing up and down her ass crack.

"Use the language please," he said almost urgently.

She knew, and so she did: "Yes, Massa Huck; you just go and slap that nigger girl's ass; it what she likes."

"Ohhhhh godddd!" he moaned. "You are so gorgeous!"

He slapped her again and then pushed into her pussy. She grunted now with pleasure to have a man in her pussy again. To maybe help her finish off.

"Ohhhh, yes, Massa!" she wailed, "Fuck this nigger."

Then Huck slipped his cock out of her pussy and stabbed it into her asshole, much more receptive now that she'd been fucked in the ass so much this evening.

It got another grunt from her. He kept slapping her ass as he fucked her.

He gripped her hard finally and came into her asshole. Then he pulled out and walked off. But he came back soon. He had her clothes, and her purse with her car keys and all. He also had a basin of warm water, and towels. He washed her then, her pussy, her asshole, her face and all. He gave her the towels and she dried herself, and dressed.

"Don't know that you do want to come back," Huck said. "But you sure are gorgeous. Hope you're okay."

She got on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. 

"I am okay," she said, "Thanks, Huck, for taking care of me."

Her car was in the parking lot now. She got to it; it started immediately, and she left.

She was silent for the first part of the ride home. She thought back on it, and the heat of it all thrilled her again: giving in, actually giving in sexually to a road house back room full of red necks. Her pussy ached now as much from the continued longing as from having been used so much. 

For a part of her mind, that part that 'nessa' controlled, the humiliation was delicious: having her head shaved, actually shaved bald; having her pussy shaved; the hosing down, the mud hole, being pissed on. She played with herself now as she drove carefully through the back roads. Her litany continued: letting them strip me as I danced, letting them all fuck my pussy and then letting them all fuck my ass. It was so hot to think of it that she thought she might cum again, while driving the car.

And then it broke. It broke in her as quickly, strangely quickly as it had occurred, when she saw that it was a road house earlier.

She knew she was going to be sick. She pulled over in a deserted lay by and just got out of the car in time to be sick into the bushes. She knew also that the sickness then wasn't really even from all that she'd taken into her mouth during her evening at the road house. She was sick because she was sick about what she'd done.

She allowed herself to live the fantasy, yes. But in the process she'd allowed herself to be degraded, humiliated, used as an animal, spoken to as an animal, and she herself spoke the outrageous patois of a human slave.

She was sick again then, and a few more times after that. When she calmed down from that, she sat in her car and cried for the next half hour. It had almost the ferocity of a crying jag. She just gave in to it. Periodically sobbing the question: "Why?"

She got no answer. She didn't even allow her mind to delve into the darkness and debauchery of that night, of what she'd done, who she'd been, how she'd acted, how she'd spoken. 

And she knew that it wasn't the sex either; it was the transformation that she'd allowed, had undergone, from the respected, astute lawyer to a kind of sexual animal, jumping through hoops for the red necks! 

She caught herself and her thoughts at that point, and again she cried.

She didn't actually get home until really, really late. By then there was no more emotion, no more passion, no more self hate, actually no more energy for any of those emotional upheavals. She felt only the tiredness, and she showered using extra hot water, and then tumbled into bed with no energy for anything else.

The first half of the week was spent in various stages of the same rage. She was an angry woman, and for that time period, an angry lawyer. It was in such moods that she was always at her best. Other tried to stay out of her way. She became efficient, decisive and achieved more than she even normally did. 

She was hardly surprised at how angry she had become with herself over 'the road house adventure' as she thought of it. And then, as the week progressed, her actions simply added fuel to the fire. 

Every night she retired with her vibrator and relived it. She did the same dirty things again, she used the same impossibly humiliating language again. She spoke to herself in bed using the slave patois and it simply turned her on. 

It also led to her spectacular rages during the days. It was almost like a self defeating syndrome for her. The week passed with these titanic mood swings for her. 

By the end of the week she was desperate, desperate to recapture some bit of the normal for her life. She realized that life on this edge was too, too exhausting to maintain. She decided to treat herself out to dinner.

She'd make it an occasion for herself. She dressed to attract attention: steep, sling back heels, a white pleated skirt, a white silk blouse that was of a hazy enough material that she could get away with wearing it with no camisole, her panties and bra were lacy and peach colored, and the gloss of her panty hose added a kind of luster to her outfit. She also wore one of the wigs that she'd bought for herself, although she had to admit that for her the 'no hair' look wasn't all that bad.

This, however, was a thought that she just pushed away. She didn't want to think of it at all. 

Vanessa remembered a nice country looking place in the north a bit, near where she did the estate work. She decided that she'd go there.

It was late by the time she drove up into the area but then she'd only decided relatively late in the day to go out to dinner. She had thought that she could find it but it wasn't exactly where she'd remembered.

She decided to try one more place where it might be. Finally, she pulled into a parking lot to turn around or at least ask,and she parked. She unbuckled her seat belt and looked up only to get one of the shocks of her life.

She sat now in the parking lot of the road house. It was the same place. Looking over to the left and behind the building a bit she could see the contours of the mud pit.

"Ohhhhhh no!" she wailed to herself, "Ohhhhhhh no! Not again! This is not going to happen again."

She ordered herself to think about it, and relive what had happened, all the humiliation and degradation of it. Her mind went through that strange and horrible night again. 

It was too much for her; she buckled up, and drove away.

She was a bit agitated now and no longer sure of where it might be. She drove around seeing various semi familiar landscapes, always trying to place the restaurant in the vicinity of those spots.

Finally, she knew she must ask, and she pulled into the next available place. She was determined now.

To her absolute unbelief, she realized that she'd driven again into the parking lot of the road house. Not consciously aware that she'd done it. She sat, amazed with herself, and what must be driving her. 

She realized that she was shaking as she sat there, and even more frightening, she realized that she was excited, turned on. There were tears in her eyes, and her trembling hand was reaching for the door latch. She tried to stay her hand but her overwhelming excitement was becoming too much for her to control. 

"This is how it happens," she said to herself, "How it happened before and now again."

And the thought, maybe even the inevitability of it were turning her on. Her mind lapsed into a kind of 'what will they do to me tonight,' state or a 'what will they make me do tonight,' state.

And then she spoke to herself briefly: "Maybe Massa Jimmy here." 

Then the tears were running down her cheeks but she was smiling. At that point, despite her rage this week, despite her towering anger, she knew that she was going in there. It was like a personality change for her, and she found herself looking forward to what would happen inside.

She calmly dried her eyes, made sure that her makeup was fresh, and got out, walking toward the entrance.

Huck looked totally surprised to see her. She walked over to where he was at the bar, and, leaning over kissed him quickly. 

"Hey, Huck!" she said.

"Well, ain't you one of the wonders of the world, girl. I never expected to see your lovely black face around here again."

"I know," she smiled at him, "But here I am! Are they back there?"

"Not so many of them tonight," he said.

Then he walked over to the door to the private back room and unlocked it, pushing it open. She glanced around, and found him.

Nothing in her make up or understanding was able to make her understand the attraction for Jimmy Tate. The only somewhat compelling thing was that she associated him with her lapsing into that 'Massa Jimmy' talk a week ago, and that seemed to open the flood gates to her eventual total humiliation.

But he was there, sitting with two other guys at a table drinking. He was there and she went to where he was.

Her appearance in the doorway caused a stir in the back room, where there were only half as many as last week. 

(A part of her brain 'pouted' at that fact but she shut the notion down immediately.)

She heard people talking to one another, a bit astonished at her being there again, after all that happened last week. There were also a few outright leers from the group. They were 'leers' of anticipation.




Vanessa and the Boys



But nessa, it was nessa in charge now or at least present, was concentrating on 'Massa Jimmy' alone. She walked across the room to where he was, crossing the dance floor in the middle; she walked toward him very slowly.

She stood next to him, simply smiling at him. She stood, and stood, and he didn't acknowledge her at all. His table companions, two other guys, glanced at her nervously from time to time but Jimmy Tate said nothing to her at all.

Finally, nessa decided to break the silence:

"Massa Jimmy, yo nessa's here."

He reacted strongly and quickly:

"Shut the fuck up, girl! Can't you see that I'm talking here? Are you stupid? Are you ignorant? Where the fuck are your manners, you black bitch?"

She recoiled as though she'd been slapped. There were tears in her eyes, and she barely suppressed a sob. And she knew that her emotion was mostly because she felt that she had been rude, and nessa wasn't supposed to be rude.

He looked at her and spit out: "Sooo?"

Nessa grabbed for his hand and kiss the back of his hand; she knelt as she did it and she almost wailed:

"Massa Jimmy, I's so sorry; this nigger girl is just the rudest girl alive; I shouldn't ha spoken at all, and my tongue just ran away with me. Massa Jimmy, I's sorry; please don't hate your nessa."

She was all emotion at that point; it was as if Vanessa, the lawyer, was still out in the car, and only nessa the slut was allowed to come in here and behave so outrageously. Her thinking, as she would later acknowledge to herself, was simply in her pussy, that's all.

"Sorry! Sorry! You come around here, bitch, and look at you! Look at you!" Jimmy was shouting now at her.

"Massa?" she said plaintively.

He demanded to know: "Are you wearing a bra? Are you?"

"Yes, Massa Jimmy," She said, "This girl is."

Every time she used the word 'Massa' there was a kind of giggle, a titter that went through the crowd in the back room. They loved this humiliation game that Jimmy Tate had going with this black lawyer, who seemed to revel in the humiliation itself.

"Why the fuck are you wearing a bra?" he demanded to know, "Do you know better than to come here looking for me wearing a bra?"

"No, sir," she wailed, "This dumb black girl don't know no better than wear a bra, when she come her looking for her Massa Jimmy; she just pathetic."

And you're wearing pantyhose? Are you fucking really wearing pantyhose?"

Nessa was off balance, she was frightened, and at the same time aroused by Jimmy's outbursts about her clothing.

"Sure enough am wearing those damn pantyhose," she said, tears again in her eyes. "Sure enough am, Massa Jimmy; and I'se really, really sorry to discommode you so."

"Discommode? Discommode?" Jimmy shouted at her, "You flaunt basic rules about how a bitch slut is supposed to dress, no bra, no fucking, never any fucking pantyhose, and all you can say is discommode?"

Then he continued; Jimmy was on a roll and enjoying himself immensely:

"And what in hell's name is that on your head! After we went to all the trouble to improve your shitty looks last week by shaving your head, you wear that damn thing!"

Nessa snatched the wig off of her head. She quickly said to Jimmy:

"Here I is for you, Massa Jimmy; bald like you wants me to be. Oh, Massa Jimmy, don't be angry with your nessa; she's just an ignorant nigger girl. Don't you just be angry, please."

"You've done this in front of my friends; so now let me tell you; go to every single table back here; kneel at every table and apologize for wearing that bra, those damn pantyhose and the wig! Do it, girl or get the fuck out of this road house now."

It was a sign of her having given herself over to this experience, of having given in to nessa so completely in this situation, despite her being sick about it last week, and so angry during the week, that she went immediately to the first table in the room.

She knelt; the men at the table were smirking at her. 

She said earnestly: "This nessa's sorry, gentlemen, ,that she don't know how to dress proper for her station. She's sorry that she wore this bra; she's sorry that she wore these damn pantyhose, and she's sorry that she hid her bald head, that her Massa and his friends give her, with that wig."

She then insisted on kissing the back of the hand of each of the three men at the table. They were laughing almost uncontrollably by the time she was finished. 

She then went to the other table where two more men were sitting, and gave the same speech. She kissed the backs of their hands also.

She turned to go back to where Jimmy was standing.

He barked at her as she made a move to go to him:

"Don't you fucking walk over here to me, girl! Don't you fucking dare!"

"No, sir," she said plaintively, "No, sir, this nessa gonna crawl to where her Massa Jimmy is."

Nessa crawled to him and stayed next to him on her hands and knees waiting for him to decide what to do next.

"Get a chair out on the dance floor," he ordered. 

She hastened to do what he wanted her to do. She put the chair on the dance floor. 

"Now stay there," he said to her. 

She did as she was told.

Jimmy strode over to where she was waiting for him. She looked at him with uncertainty on her face.

"Massa Jimmy?" she said unsure of what was going to happen.

"Black bitch, doesn't know how to dress; I'll have to show her," he said vehemently, as he went to where she was.

Nessa was trembling by the time that Jimmy got to her. He loomed over her and suddenly had a knife in his hand.

"Massa Jimmy," she complained in a whiney voice------even using the voice almost made her sick on the spot, but she was caught in this, this nessa thing and she couldn't seem to find her way out.

"Massa Jimmy, don't you go doin' nothing foolish with that knife," she said with as much authority as she could muster. 

"Shut up and raise your skirt!" he shouted at her.

It seemed to push her right back into nessa completely. She did as she was told; she raised her skirt, showing the entire room her peach colored panties through her pantyhose.

There were some whistles, and a few cries of 'make her take it off', and 'strip the black bitch!'

Jimmy flicked the knife and cut through the waistband of the pantyhose. Nessa gasped.

Jimmy laughed at her: "You hold your breath now, bitch, or I'll cut your bald, black pussy right off; you hold your breath."

"I'se doin' it, Massa Jimmy," Nessa said near tears now.

Jimmy, meanwhile, continued to slash at her pantyhose. Soon they were hanging around her hips in tatters. Jimmy stepped back then and shouted at her. 

"Get them off; get those fuckin' things off, and don't you ever wear them over here again! Do you fuckin' understand me, you black cunt?"

Nessa hurried to take off the remnant of the tattered pantyhose. She was frightened of his anger, and simply trying to mollify him now. The thought of just leaving didn't even cross her mind.

She got the pantyhose off of one leg, and foot and then danced around to get them off of the other. Her dancing that way caused the crowd of men to laugh at her, and clap.

When she was done with this little dance, nessa threw the pantyhose off to the side, and looked over at Jimmy. He still stood there with his knife out.

"Massa Jimmy," she asked in an almost begging tone of voice, "What you gonna do now wid that?"

"Come here, pig!" he ordered.

"Yes, suh," she intoned for him. "This nessa yo pig, please don't you go hurting this gal o' yours now, please, suh!"

"Just come here, you black cunt, or I'll take my belt off to you."

She hustled over to him. He reached out with the knife, and she flinched, as he plunged his hand inside of her blouse.

"Don't you move, cunt," he snarled at her, "Or I'll cut off a brown nipple and make you eat it."

"No, Massa Jimmy, dis girl ain't movin' or nuttin'," she said. 

Her lapse into the patois that turned him on, and served to remind herself of how far into this humiliation scene she had sunk, was now rich and thick. It made him grin.

"You just be a good girl, nessa," he said, as he snipped one of her bra straps with his knife.

"Gonna," she said, shivering a bit, "Just gonna!"

He snipped the other bra strap, and then moved the knife point around

"Can you feel that against your nipple, my little black pig?"

"Yes suh, I can," she said in a frightened voice.

"Then tell me, girl;" he said now smiling a cruel smile, "Is that what you are? A black pig? Tell me."

"Yes, Massa Jimmy," she said quickly, "Dis nessa is a black pig for sure; dat's all she is a black pig."

"Then I'll make a deal with you, nessa," Jimmy said, "You go and crawl to every table where my friends are sitting and make your piggy noises; you go and grunt and oink like the pig that you are, and I won't use the knife on your nipple."

"Yes, suh, Massa Jimmy," she said and she was already on her knees crawling and 'oinking' in her throat as she went.

She made the pig noises at every table, saying at each one that she, nessa, was nothing but a black pig, and Massa Jimmy was so good to her.

Then she was back to where he stood again.

"Let's finish this then," he said and reached into her blouse again with the knife. This time he snicked and came out with the bra itself.

"Let those big black titties just swing free," he said throwing the bra onto the pile with her panty hose.

"Yes, Massa Jimmy," she said earnestly, "They wants to do that, those black titties, they wants to swing free,and your nessa thanks you for doing that for them titties."

Then Jimmy went to sit in the chair on the dance floor.

He stared at nessa and said to her: "Now come here, girl, and get yourself over my knees; I'm going to teach you to dress correctly."

Nessa was a welter of both fear and lust at that point. It was here on the edge of this kind of dirty living that she felt most alive. She hated that; it made her sick, and likely she would be sick again about it later but the humiliation, and all of it simply lent to the reality of what was happening right then. She just didn't seem to hate it enough to do anything about it at the moment. It would certainly turn her into an angry almost mad woman during the following week. But for right now it was only nessa and all these men.

"Walk, Massa?" she asked gently.

"Of course you don't walk!" he thundered at her.

She got onto her hands and knees, to the great delight of the guys in the back room; she crawled to where Jimmy was waiting for her. Every time she crawled, she showed her panty covered ass to the guys in the room. They were getting off on the continuous sight, and the way that Jimmy was treating her. 

When she got there, he impatiently grabbed her by the ear and pulled. She scrambled to the position then, placing herself over his lap.

Jimmy flipped her skirt up to her waist and started to spank nessa's ass.

"Like that? Huh?" he shouted, "Like that, bitch? Where's the high toned fuckin' lawyer now? Getting your ass beat! Like that? Huh? Like that, pig?"

"Yessa," she said in a strangled voice, "Dis nigger girl likes it, when Massa Jimmy spanks her black ass! She likes it jes fine!"

"Hah!" Jimmy exploded and spanked her harder. He shifted from working on one ass cheek to the other. The blows were loud and delivered with a kind of fury.

Nessa reacted by continuously sobbing and grunting with the landing of the blows. 

Her voice wailed with a constant: "Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh!"

Then she said a strangled: "Please, please, pleease, Massa Jimmy!"

"Don't you, pig," he spouted at her, "Don't you dare or I'll take the hide off of you. Right off of you."

She lapsed into silence.

Finally, he just dumped her onto the floor, where she lay sobbing.

"Now get up!" he exploded at her.

She scrambled to her feet and said: "Thank you, Massa Jimmy, for showin' dis girl where she went wrong and for spankin' her black ass."

"Now go to every table and wait on them," he said calming down a bit. "See what they need from the bar, and go fetch it."

Nessa moved to go to the first table but she stopped, when Jimmy told her to 'hold it.'

"You are so clumsy that you'll just spill everything and make a mess; take off your blouse and skirt, and then you can serve the guys."

Everyone cheered at the suggestion.

Nessa, really afraid of Jimmy's mood by now, and the continuous stream of novelties that he was coming up with, hurried to dispose of her blouse and then her skirt. It reduced her to only wearing her peach colored bikinis and heels. 

"Now, shake your ass, and get what the guys want, waitress."

Nessa hustled to the first table and took their order. She allowed the men at the table to pummel her tits as she stood and took the order. The same scene was played out at every table. Then nessa scurried from the room out to the end of the bar, where Huck stood waiting. He didn't look pleased.

She told him what drinks that they needed, and he gave them to her but his face looked like a thunder storm.

Nessa caused a great sensation to the people in the bar, when she hurried in wearing only panties and heels. There were a few whistled, some cat calls. The explanation that she was the 'entertainment' in the back room, went around. In a corner of the room, one woman, with a huge look of surprise on her face, took out her phone and took a number of pictures of nessa, as she paraded into the bar from the back room almost naked. She didn't say a word to her companion; she merely closed the phone, when nessa went back into the back room.

Nessa delivered the drinks that she'd gotten from the bar. She turned then to Jimmy to see if he had anything else that she was supposed to do. She realized that all of the humiliation and roughness from Jimmy was making her extremely wet,and extremely horny.

"So, slut," Jimmy addressed her, "Tell me, do you want to get laid?"

Nessa shook her head 'yes' quickly. "Yes, Massa Jimmy, dis girl wants to get fucked."

"We can probably do that," he said smiling kind of benignly. "Do you care if we fuck your face or your cunt or your asshole?" 

"No, suh;" she said, "Nessa gonna take what Massa Jimmy give her."

"I guess that's true," he said, the smile turning evil now. "So, lift your head, and open your mouth."

Nessa did as she was told. She was staring at Jimmy, when he spit into her mouth. She groaned in her throat. 

It seemed that every time that the issues were pushed in a new direction, nessa's turn on increased. Jimmy spitting into her mouth affected her as strongly as being tied up and pissed on did the previous week.

"Did you like that, blackie?" he wanted to know.

"Yes, suh," she said quickly, trying to keep him from any kind of temper, "Dis nigger likes what you do to her, sure does."

"Well here's some more then," he said now, "A kind of tip for hustling the drinks." 

As he said that, Jimmy spit into her mouth. She simply looked at him and kept her mouth open.

Jimmy waved his hand and all the guys in the back room gathered around. They all began to spit on Nessa. In no time she was covered with their slimy spit. Some aimed for her mouth but some simply spit on her tits or at her ass or her thighs. Nessa was a mess in no time.

They finished and Jimmy said to her: "What do you say now?"

Nessa was sobbing as she rasped out a "Thank you, gentlemen; dis girl's grateful."

"But I know that our little pig wants to be fucked; so we're going to do that," Jimmy said.

"Thank you, Massa Jimmy," nessa said carefully.

"But first," Jimmy was grinning now, "Just a little wash up."

"Ohhhhhhh!" nessa squealed as she was forced to go outside. They had her kneel in the familiar spot and then Jimmy turned the cold water hose on her. It ran across her bald head and down past her face and her tits. He moved the hose around and got every part of her. He hosed her off completely. He told her to bend her head to the ground,and she did. Jimmy played the cold water hose across the cheeks of her ass. He demanded that she open her ass cheeks for him, She did that, and he trained the hose on her ass crack and asshole.

They guys were laughing at the hosing down of the 'whore'.

She ended up shivering, and her panties were truly transparent now. 

"Stand up now, pig!" Jimmy said.

Nessa clambered to her feet, and stood there. 

"Shake off, fido," Jimmy said.

She shook herself like a dog; it set her tits bouncing back and forth, and gave the guys more to laugh at.

"Now inside," Jimmy said. 

She went ahead of them into the back room.

They sat at the tables, and Jimmy told her to come and kneel where he was.

"Now you just go ahead and thank me for that shower, girl!" he said to her.

"Thank you, Massa Jimmy," she said, kneeling next to him, 'I'se grateful, this girl is grateful to you for using her this way and giving her a lovely shower."

"Grateful?" he asked, "Really?"

"Yes, suh," she said, "This nessa is grateful."

"Good" he said to her, "Then show me. Get your bald, black head down there and lick my boots.

Nessa sighed but she bent her head to his boots. She had totally lost Vanessa by now; whatever demon was pushing her into this humiliating display, and causing her to like it, to get off on it, to get really horny because of it, was certainly in charge.

Now nessa bent and sticking out her tongue began to run it all along Jimmy's dirty boots. The guys gathered around to watch her, as she licked the boots all over. Someone nudged her in the panty covered ass with his foot but she kept at her task. Then she moved over to the other boot and licked it clean.

She sat up on her heels, when she was done.

"Now take the boots off, and do my toes!" was Jimmy's next order.

He was really enjoying himself with this woman. He didn't know why she did all this but he loved it.

Nessa grasped his left boot and pulled it off. Then she peeled his sock down and off. She lifted her eyes to look at him as she first licked his toes, and then, one by one, took them into her mouth and sucked on them.

"Love the way she sucks!" one of the guys said, who hadn't been there the week previous.

"Wait until it's your cock she's sucking!" came voices then.

"Soon, I hope!" was his answer.

"Soon as she gets done with my toes," Jimmy said, "The we take her out and fuck her good."

Nessa continued her job. She went from toe to toe and from foot to foot. She licked around the toes and in between the toes. She treated the big toes as though they were cocks and sucked on them.

"Fuckin' whore!" Jimmy said.

Nessa just looked up at him as she performed for him. She hoped somehow that she was placating him. It's what her own descent into this humility called for. There was that need to give in to the worst that was somewhere near the core of her sexual longing, her sexual submission. She rarely thought much about it, when she got so far into nessa as she had this night.

Finally, in a burst of cruelty, he simply placed his bare foot in between her tits and sent her sprawling on the floor. She stayed there and waited for him. 

Over his shoulder he said: "Get me the shreds of those pantyhose." 

Then to nessa he said: "Okay, bitch, panties off and give them to Massa Jimmy."

"Yes, suh, Massa Jimmy;" she said loudly, "Dis nessa one good girl; she do what you tell her; she always do what you tell her."

Jimmy laughed: "Then, nessa girl, we're going to give you a night to remember."

"Yes, suh, Massa Jimmy, and dis nigger thanks you for that; she sure do."

Jimmy was grinning as they gave him the shreds of the pantyhose; nessa was smiling but nervous.

It was just then that something, some little voice, some still lingering shred of dignity, something snapped in nessa. She looked around, go up and started to walk toward the door. She didn't take time to grab her clothes just her purse.




Vanessa and the Boys



"No," she said, "just no."

Jimmy was on her in a second.

"Where the fuck are you going, blackie?" he bellowed.

He slapped nessa's face and actually knocked her down. With her lying on the floor in that back room, he reached down and slapped her face again.

It jolted nessa and sent her tumbling back into the dirty and darkness of this sexual obsession of hers.

"Nowheres, Massa Jimmy," she said, crying now, "I'se goin' nowheres; I's been good; why you use me that way."

"I'll use you any fucking way that I please," he shouted, towering over her.

Huck stuck his head in the door at that moment. He observed the scene with a scowl on his face and said with quiet authority: 

"Hey, keep it down or take it outside."

Jimmy spit back at him quickly: "Don't worry, Huck, we're going to take it outside."

Huck watched for another minute or so, and went back to the bar.

Jimmy snarled at nessa, "Get up and put your hands behind your back, bitch,"

Nessa now scrambled to do what she was told. It's what she did in this place: what she was told. Her vain attempt to reassert some logic and sanity briefly in her life was fleeting. She was just back in the pit of her submission and lust now.

Jimmy proceeded to tie her hands together with strips of her torn panty hose. He laughed as he was doing it.

"Try to run away from us, will you; we'll fucking show you. Open your fucking mouth."

When nessa did as she was told, Jimmy shoved her panties, still wet, especially at the crotch, into her mouth and tied another strip of her pantyhose around her head to fasten them in place.

"Now this," he said as he took another strip of the panty hose and tied her ankles together. He knelt behind her to do the ankle tying. When he was finished, he reached out, grinning, and bit her in the ass hard.

The guys cheered, and Jimmy beamed, as nessa squealed into her panty gag.

He went around in front of her and grabbed her by the chin to direct her attention at him, as he spoke:

"I'll tell you what, girl; tell you what, Ms. High and mighty lawyer lady, Ms. High and mighty lawyer whose holes are ours to use as we please tonight; you've earned yourself a beating and that's what we're going to give you. We're going to take your black ass to a clearing near here and we're going to fuck you in every hole and then we're going to beat the shit out of you. And then, just for your evening pleasure, you know how we'll end our party? Do you? Huh, do you?"

He was spitting the words into her face, as he said it.

The frightened naked, black woman just shook her head 'no' to his insistent question.

Jimmy cackled as he spit out the words: "We're going to tar and feather your nigger ass!"

The other men were laughing now and clapping, as they gathered around the shaking naked black woman in their midst.

Then they grabbed her and hauled her bodily out the back door. They deposited her in a pickup truck, in the back, and the group of them, about 8 in all left in a hail of dust. The pickup trucks followed one another down a dirt road near the road house.

The got to the clearing and made a ring of the pickups. Shining lights that they had, and leaving the head lights on, they illuminated the clearing. Then they brought the hapless nessa out from the back of Jimmy's truck. She was shaking now. She was almost totally overwhelmed by a combination of fear of what they were about to do, and absolute lust for the process.

They brought her quivering, naked form to the center of the circle of lights. They tied her in place there. Her hands were tied to trees to the left and right in front of her. Then her ankles were tied to trees to the left and right behind her. They positioned nessa so that she was tied bent over at the waist with her upper body at a kind of 45 degree angle.

She tried to look around to see what was happening but the were behind her, and she couldn't. She drooled from the mouth enough that the drool went down her chin, past the panties that gagged her mouth.

She lurched, and shrieked into the panties in her mouth as Jimmy landed the first blow from his belt on her unprotected, jutting ass. He was snarling as he hit her. The belt fell time after time. Each time a welt was raised; each time nessa jumped and shrieked into her gag. Each time the guys laughed. 

Then Jimmy was joined by the other guys. They' gotten their own belts off or broke off rods from the trees and simply wailed at the helpless black lawyer in their clutches. 

Nessa now was past screaming. She was simply sunk into the heat of the beating, and as it continued, she found it creeping up into her consciousness and taking hold of her. She was now deeply into one of the worst of her fantasies, and to make it worse, while the hail of blows from the belts and sticks were raining down on her naked body, gleaming from sweat, she came thunderously!

She jerked, she writhed, she shook and her orgasm was an explosion.

One of the guys, in absolute astonishment, said: "Look, fuckin' gal is getting off on this."

It was too much for the men. The belts and sticks were forgotten. Jimmy was the first one to pony up and had his stiff cock shoved into nessa's pussy with no preliminary touching at all. Nessa grunted as she received his cock.

Someone scuttled around to her head, with his stiff cock flapping outside of his fly; he ripped the sodden panties from her mouth, grabbed her by the ears, and planted his prick in her gasping mouth.

Nessa took it and began to suck as if her life depended on it. She had his cum in her mouth and on her face in no time. The line began then and they kept taking turns with her. She had, at all times, for the next half hour or so, a cock in her mouth and one in her pussy. 

She came two more times, as she serviced the drunken lot of them. They were in fact drunk enough that they weren't up to much more than one toss apiece at her mouth and pussy.

Then Jimmy was back. She shoved his soft cock toward her open, and willing mouth, and he spoke to her, directly into her face:

"Feel the heat on your ass, cunt? Feel it? Huh, feel it?"

She had a cock in her mouth so that all that she could do is shake her head 'yes.'

"That's the tar heating up for our finale; you'll love it! We'll pour the hot tar over your shaved black head, and let it run down over your nigger titties and coat that pussy of yours."

Nessa looked at Jimmy with despair, as he came once again in her mouth.

Then he leered at her and said: "It's time, nessa; it's time for the grand finale."

Then, right then there was an explosion. It startled everyone into silence.

An enraged voice broke the silence: "Jimmy Tate, you stupid, stupid fucker, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

It was Huck, and he was angry and he was armed. He walked into the clearing carrying a pump shotgun that he'd just used to get their attention.

They were all afraid of Huck. He never had trouble at the bar. He was quiet, and mild mannered unless, like now, he was riled. He had a war record to be proud of, and was just a big, big man. He was always specially gentle with nessa.

"Now, Huck, you just stay out of this," Jimmy said nervously, and placatingly. "We're just having a little fun."

"Fun, you brain dead animal, is that poor woman tied up over there having fun too?" Huck shot back at him.

Nessa just sagged against the ropes, done in by all of the fucking and cock sucking that had just gone on.

Huck strode up to Jimmy now; no one else moved a muscle. Huck pushed the barrel of the shotgun directly against Jimmy's crotch. Jimmy went white as a ghost.

"Untie her!" Huck yelled. "She's cooperated with you, far beyond what was fucking necessary, and you've been mean as a snake to her all the while. But this last little bit of shit is one crazy fucking idea too much even for you."

Then Huck prodded Jimmy's privates with the barrel of the shotgun, making Jimmy jump. 

"YOU ARE NOT GOING TO TAR AND FEATHER THAT WOMAN!" Huck yelled at Jimmy.

Jimmy didn't move. Huck pumped a shell into the shotgun's chamber, and Jimmy got whiter.

"Untie her now, damn it!" Huck yelled over his shoulder, and a couple of the guys moved quickly to do just that. They untied nessa, and let her slump to her knees on the ground.

"Now get the fuck out of here before I get really, really mad."

The guys started to file out of the clearing. Trucks motors were turned on, and began to leave.

Huck just stood there, and Jimmy, holding up a placating hand, said quietly to the big man: 

"Sorry, Huck, we was just having some fun and it got out of hand, kind of."

Huck shot back at him: "Yes, it did that. Good night, Jimmy."

Jimmy left without another word, or a glance back at Huck.

When they'd all gone, Huck went to his suburban and pulled out a blanket. He walked over to where nessa was still slumped on the ground on her knees. She was still naked.

"Here, little lady," Huck said, "Let's get you out of here. I got your purse, and clothes from the bar; at least those of them that were still good."

Huck wrapped a blanket around nessa and carried her to the suburban. It seemed no effort for him at all. As they went, nessa just leaned her head against Huck's chest. Huck opened the back door of the suburban and put nessa in on the seat, where he had her simply lie down.

She sighed a deep sigh and just rested as he started the suburban and took her to his place.

They were about a mile from the clearing, when nessa started to clamor for Huck:

"Huck, Huck," she cried out, "Gonna be sick, Huck."

Huck pulled over and stopped. He got her out of the back seat, still wrapped in the blanket and held onto her while she got sick several times.

Between bouts of the sickness, she stammered out:

"Hate that; hate doing that; hate being that way; hate it, Huck."

"You just go ahead now and do what you need to; you're fine now," he said to her soothingly.

Finally, she said to him: "Finished now."

He picked her up again and took her to the car. He reached for a bottle of water and gave it to her to rinse her mouth and drink.

"Thank you, sweetie," she managed then.

Huck took nessa to his house. She made no protest. He carried her into the house, and then fetched her purse and skirt, blouse and panties. The pantyhose and bra were ruined totally.

He took her to a bathroom on the first floor of his house, and left. She settled herself to use the bathroom and then wash her face.

Soon enough Huck knocked on the door, she called him in. He came in and asked if she was done there. She indicated that she was. He then took her, again in his arms, up the stairs and too her to the master bathroom. He had the tub already full, and the surface of it covered with bubbly soap.

"Oh, Huck!" nessa said, a little overwhelmed.

"Here give me this," he said taking the blanket. He looked at her nakedness but still acted in a very gentle way with her.

She settled with a sigh into the tub, and he went to the door.

Huck turned to her and said: "Would you like a drink? Glass of wine? Anything?"

"No, thank you, Huck," she answered, "You are so kind to take care of me."

At the door then, he turned once more to her. She smiled at him as he stood there. He said quietly:

"I'm really sorry for taking advantage of you last week, after I hosed the mud off. That was wrong, and making you use that damn kind of language was wrong. It was surely a poor thing for me to do."

She said to him: "Please, Huck, don't worry about that." 

But he'd already turned and, looking chagrined, walked out leaving her alone in the bathroom.

Nessa had finally soaked all the dirt off of her body but still struggled with the dirt in her mind. Huck left her alone, and she simply cried, just like she'd done last week. She cried her eyes raw and red, she cried her throat hoarse, she cried for the way she let these things happen, and she cried for the fact that, while they were happening, she found them so exciting. She cried a long time but was too tired now ever for making promises to herself about what she would or would not do in the future.

She ran down finally, and ran out of tears, and things to cry about, and things to recriminate herself about. There was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in, Huck," she said.

He brought with him a huge shirt of his for her, and her skirt. 

"Your blouse isn't in good shape just now," he said, "These will do alright for now. I have a place for you to lie down until you feel better."

"Huck, you are so kind," she said. 

He smiled and left the room, telling her that he'd let her dress. He also had brought her panties, which he'd washed by hand and had in fact dried for her. It caused her to smile genuinely for the first time that evening.

She opened the door, when she was finally finished and dressed. He was waiting for her.

"That feels so much better," she said. Then she looked at him and continued: "Huck, I owe you an apology for acting out my demon in your place; for coming there and acting the slut. It served me right to be used that way; it really does."

"No," he said vehemently, "They ought to know how to treat a lady better than that is all. Sure you can go and play games with them;have some sexual fun with them but there's no need for that nasty stuff, no need at all."

Then he indicated to her that she could lie down on the bed in the master room, and that he'd lie down on a bed in the spare room. Nessa was simply too tired to argue with him. She lay dow on the bed dressed in her skirt and his shirt. He put a blanket over her, and went across the hall to the other room.

She woke some hours later; it was fully dark, and early in the morning now. Nessa was by now actually feeling a little human. She ran a hand over her face, when she thought of it all. She went over all of it in her mind, and was determined not to be sick again. She'd give it some time this week to be sorted out. But there was one thing that she needed to do.

The big man was lying on the bed, where he'd tumbled still dressed. He was suddenly aroused by a movement. He woke up quickly and began to raise up but a hand on his chest restrained him. She was standing next to the bed,the lovely black lawyer. And she was naked now. Cleaned up, shining clean but also naked. He started to say something but she put a finger on his lips to silence him. 

She undressed him; she did it slowly and carefully. She was now completely turned on for a totally different reason than earlier in the evening. Her nipples were hard, as her breasts swayed in front of him. She struggled to get his shirt off. Then she moved down his body and removed his socks. Next she got his belt open and pulled his pants down, taking his underwear also.

She leaned on him then, brushing those stiff nipples against his own nipples. 

"Now we're even here, Huck," she said.

"My god you're something," was all that Huck could manage.

And then she crept in beside him, rubbing her nakedness against his skin. He was erect in no time.

She looked up into his face, intense now with the pleasure of it. She grinned from ear to ear as she whispered to him: "Massa Huck, here I come!"

She giggled after that, and he said: "No, don't' . . .you don't need to . . ." 

But she was already kissing him, and he realized that she was playing with him, using that language, only playing with him.

Then she spoke again: "Huck, you are my knight in shining armor; you come my rescue. I really need to go home but first this; first for us."

She began with his lips and his mouth but then she travelled down the length of his body, making important stops along the way. He was left to lie there and be loved. 

She wreathed his nipples with her tongue and her mouth, sucking on them. Then she slid off to the side and lapped her tongue up and down the length of his armpits. She crooned to him as she did it.

He writhed on the bed, when she put her tongue into his belly button, and writhed even more, when she kissed, then bit his hip bones. 

Finally, she found his erect cock and took it in her hand. She pushed it up, looking at it, and licked the underside of it, the entire length of it, with her tongue. She ended up with his balls and took them into her mouth to lick them and suck on them. 

Then she had his cock in her mouth. She pushed her head down until she gagged a little but breathed in and went down a bit farther. She drooled on his belly, and when her head came up off of his cock, she just grinned at him.

Huck was transported. He felt her slide down to the foot of the bed, and begin to suck on his toes, one by one. She sucked on his big toes and looked up at him with a grin on her face.

"Here I come, Huck!" she said clearly this time. "Here I come!"

She went up to him and nestled herself down on his prick, still crooning to him as she did it. It was then that he moved, so that she was under him and he loomed above her, moving his hips in time with hers. 

For nessa, he was the bright spot. She went, after they'd made love and did all the sexual things that they'd wanted to do. She didn't say 'no' to anything but he wasn't demanding, so that she needed to take some initiative too. 

He followed her in his suburban to make sure that she got out of the area okay.

As she drove home, she reflected. 

"He was the bright spot," she thought, "but now I need to go and wrestle with the demon. I do, I just do."

As was her usual pattern, Vanessa poured her disappointment, and her almost savage disgust with herself, into her job, especially in the early part of the following week. She had 'conversations'' with herself about what had happened for a second weekend at the road house, and she was never very easy on herself.

Those outings, which she recalled in detail whenever she thought of them, were the continual topic of her musings with herself, and her equally continual self lectures about 'straightening up' and not repeating such disgusting behavior.

It gave her a pretty grim outlook but made her extra efficient on the job. She got tons of work done; she was reliable, although not very approachable.

It was noticed around her that her attitude was more dour that usual, and her attention to work and details more stringent than usual but that was pretty much written off to who she was, and the way she normally was.

She spent the early part of the week that way, and she was continuously furious with herself. It wasn't an inner dialogue that went along in an easy fashion. She kept, in her mind, going back to the events of those two nights at the road house. She kept going back to being stripped, and made to dance, and hosed down, and spit on, and spanked, and made to suck their cocks and being pissed on, and being fucked in the pussy and in the ass. She paraded those mental pictures through her senses constantly.

Her process was not a simple process of hating what she had done, and allowed to be done to herself. Not a simple process of the way she had talked or had allowed herself to feel while she was talking that way. That was one of the most shocking things of all for her: that she had allowed herself to use the black patois to begin with, and that she lapsed into it so quickly and completely in the presence of a middle aged man with such a streak of cruelty in him.

It drove her to anger because whenever her mind wandered in that direction, and the pictures were live and brightly colored for her, she could feel the wetness in her pussy claiming her again. She could feel the heat between her thighs, and the stiffening of her nipples, and she wanted to take the wig off to just be the bald 'nigger' bitch again.

The temptation was so profound that it kept her in a state of near arousal the whole time, during the beginning of the week. It was also this constant or near constant arousal that she raged at with periodic precision. She was torn and part of her loved being torn.