Black Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders Ch. 05

Redistribution: only for personal, nonprofit use. Short Summary: White females submitting to Black females.

********

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

Phoenix Arrow -

*****************************

"LOLA! Get in her this instant!"

"Yes Mrs Lowenstien? Is there anything wrong?"

"What the hell are these?"

"Those are your panties Mrs, I just had them cleaned for you."

"Then why do they still look soiled? Did you hand wash them like I instructed you to?"

"We'll, no ma'am...I...I...."

"You WHAT?"

"Mrs they were dirty, I just felt better putting them in the wash."

"Gosh you must be dumb. Your just begging for me to call INS aren't you."

"No Mrs Lowenstien, PLEASE, I'm sorry. Here, let me take them right now and wash them."

"And what about the rest of the house? Are you vacuuming and dusting like you are supposed to?"

"Yes, I clean all the time."

"Then why is there dust on these shelves? Gosh, do you really want to be on the first boat back to Haiti?"

"No Ma'am, I'm sorry. I will do better."

"See that you do. There are plenty of immigrant black women like yourself begging to land a job like this. You just remember that."

"Yes Mrs Lowenstien, thank so very much."

(Ring Ring Ring)

"Lola, see who that is calling."

"Right away Ma'am."

With a sigh of frustration at her newest maids incompetence, Cindy Lowenstien resumed changing for the social engagements later on in the day. These engagements always required the wealthy woman to look her best, especially when it made the other women in the community only that much more jealous. Ever since Thomas first slide that large diamond ring across her finger, she'd been the envy of every woman.

But she certainly couldn't do it all with dirty panties. Either Lola learned how to hand wash them properly, or she'd have to find yet another immigrant black woman to take her place.

"Mrs Lowenstien, it is your daughter, she wants to talk with you." Spoke Lola as she rushed into the master bedroom.

"Oh wonderful, thank you Lola. Now be a good little maid and wash these like your supposed to." Throwing her silk panties at the humble woman, Cindy turned to walking briskly over to the phone and picked it up.

"Hello baby, is every thing going well?"

"Hello mother. Everything is going....ok. Um....I was wondering if you could please come pick me up from Trish's house?"

"Come pick you up? But I'm getting ready for the Social later today, can't her parents bring you home?"

"Well her parents aren't home at the moment, and Trish says she really wants to finally meet you."

"Meet me? Isn't this the girl who stole your captaincy on the squad? Gosh Amber, I have no idea why you insist on being friends with this girl."

"Please mother, lets not talk about this again. Now write down this address."

Cindy took a moment to find paper and a pen before writing down her daughter's location.

"Ok sweetie, I'll come right now. But be ready when I get there. I can't be late to the Social."

"Yes mother, I'll try to be ready...(SLAP)....Oweeee....um....I've got to go mother!"

"Wait, what was that sound. Is everything ok?"

"Ah, yes yes, everything is just fine. Trish was only trying to make me hurry up....(SLAP)....Ahhh....Bye, please come soon....(CLICK)."

Cindy remained standing in momentary confusion. "That was certainly an odd call." In any case she was only slightly concerned as she hung up the phone with her daughter. It was indeed rare for her to ever be asked to pick up Amber from a friend's house. Usually the other parents were so happy to have Amber playing with their daughter, that they always offered to bring her home personally.

Never the less Cindy pushed her pride aside as she readied herself. Putting on a fresh pair of silk panties, she hurriedly put on a fashionable dress before making her way out to the Mercedes. Soon she was off and away from the respected upper class neighborhood and towards the address her daughter had given her. As she drove, Cindy couldn't shake away how unusual her daughter sounded, and even regretful at having to ask her mother to pick her up.

Mrs Lowenstien knew very little about this new friend of her daughter's. Only that she was a fellow cheerleader and the new captain of the squad. Cindy recalled how disappointed she was after learning of her daughter's decision to surrender the captaincy to this new girl. It was quite the shame. Colleges tend to look at things like that and being the captain of your high school cheerleading squad could have gone a long way towards getting her into one of the IV league schools. Mrs Lowenstien had big ambitions for her daughter.

Never the less, both girls seemed to really be hitting it off. It wasn't long before her daughter was seemingly spending all her free time with this girl. So overall Cindy was actually happy her daughter found a friend she enjoyed so much. And who knows, maybe they'd even go to the same college after high school.

With a relaxed sigh, Mrs Lowenstien pulled off the highway and continued following her daughter's directions into the inner city streets. So into her own thoughts, she hardly noticed the staggering change in style of the houses. What was once slight concern was slowly turning into mild confusion as she slowed her car to take note of the lower income housing.

"This can't be!" Questioned the worried mother as she re-examined the directions again. Turning around, she double backed to make sure she was on the right street. Indeed she was.

Again she looked at the houses up and down the street. There was no mistaking it, this was a lower middle class black neighborhood.

"But why would she tell me to come here?" The very confused women wondered. She just couldn't fathom the possibility that her daughter could be friends with another white girl who lived in such a low class neighborhood. Not even for a moment did it occur to her that the friend might not even be white.

Pushing on, she continued on her trek. Pressing further and further into the inner streets despite her worries. Finally she came upon the house indicated on the address. A two story building that looked only slightly better than the surrounding houses, as if some work had been done to it recently.

With her out of place Mercedes parked in the drive way, Cindy made her way to the door and rang the bell.

After a brief moment, the door was opened. Mrs Lowenstien quickly took note of the white woman greeting her at the door and almost took a step back. Though wearing rather raggy clothing with a stereotypical maid's apron, and a feather duster in her hand, the woman looked completely out of place.

She was roughly the same age as herself, but even with her dirty hands and tired face, Cindy knew this wasn't the normal life for this woman. Cindy hadn't become a community socialite for nothing. She could always read a person's character from the moment she first saw them, and this woman was clearly not what she appeared to be. The manicured nails attested to that, and her eyes spoke of a kinder, more authoritative time in her life not all that long ago.

Why this woman was now standing before her wearing a silly little apron in a black neighborhood was a question she could not answer.

"Hello, may I help you?" The woman asked, with a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"Yes hello, I am here to pick up my daughter Amber. Is she ready?"

Cindy saw the woman pause for a moment, looking at her almost with slight pity, then led her into the house.

Looking around, the home looked pretty much like what she'd expect, though very clean. The white woman had obviously taken her duties seriously.

"The girls are upstairs. The young Mistress wants you to go up there to retrieve your daughter."

"Mistress?" Cindy wondered. This woman was certainly a well trained maid. But feeling the need to make absolutely sure, she took the opportunity. "Excuse me for asking, but is Trish your daughter?"

Quite surprisingly the woman began blushing as she answered. "No....I am the....um....family....servant Jennifer.." She was clearly not proud of her position "...Now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to my cleaning."

With that, the middle aged white women swiftly moved off to dust a shelf. It was at that moment that Mrs Lowenstien saw the picture frames on the shelf being dusted. All of them contained black people. What was once worry, turned confusion, was now full fledged anger.

"How dare my daughter socialize with a black girl? How stupid can she be? How does she expect to get anywhere in life having friends like that?" She knew these thoughts were morally wrong, but anger and disappointment flooded her emotions none the less as she stormed up the stairs, towards Trish's room.

Once there she readied herself to burst through the door, but paused momentarily as she heard some mumbling on the other side. Curious, she moved her ear closer to the door, yet still couldn't make out who or what was being said. Moments later there was a loud crack, followed by a restrained cry of pain. Mrs Lowenstien took a quick breath as she realized who had made that cry. It was her daughter Amber.

Not waiting another second, she turned the handle and burst through the door. What she saw drained all the blood from her face.

Hanging from the ceiling, naked, with a tear strained face was her precious teenage daughter Amber. Cindy almost fell to her knees as she saw her dear daughter hanging by her hands from the rope attached to the ceiling. Her tan breasts and pert pink nipples quivering under the ragged breathing. The rest of her slim body a criss-crossing pattern of pinkish/red marks.

Standing confidently next to her daughter, with a crop in her hand, was a black teenage girl.

For a moment, none of the women said a word. Cindy kept looking back and forth from her daughter's tear strained face, to her reddened body, to the crop in the black teen's hand.

Suddenly the crop came down hard against Amber's bottom, eliciting a fresh cry. Cindy placed a hand to her mouth in complete shock.

"Hello Mrs Lowenstien, I've so wanted to meet you. Please undress and take your place next to your daughter so that we may get properly introduced."

Cindy blinked several times. The words not registering at all in the confused mother's brain.

"You know how to undress don't you Mrs Lowenstien? Even a wealthy woman like you should be capable of doing it all by yourself without someone helping."

Cindy quickly regained her composer, not believing the audacity of this girl. How dare she suggest such a thing. Who the hell did she think she was, and what the hell was going on here. Mrs Lowenstien was not going to wait around here to find out.

"Amber get down from there this instant, we're getting out of here."

Yet Amber remained where she was, in fact looking back at Trish with fear, who quickly raised her crop and brought it down again against the reddish white cheeks of her personal cheerleader slut.

"Ahhh....56...thank you my Queen!"

Cindy had flinched when she heard the odd phrase spoken by her daughter. "My Queen?"

Trish looked coolly at the distressed mother. "I don't think she'll be going any where."

"Amber, what's wrong? Why are you letting this...this girl hurt you like this? Please just get down, get dressed and come home!"

Trish lightly stroked her pets nipples with the flexible stick while speaking "Go ahead Amber, tell your mommy why your letting me whip your dumb white ass."

Amber stared at her mother, another tear running down her cheek. "Because....because...." Trish flung the crop down across Amber's chest.

"AHHHHH....because....I'm STUPID mommy!.....I'm just a stupid white cunt.....who needs to serve her Mistress....(CRACK)....uhhhhhh....her BLACK MISTRESS!..... I need, I want to be her slave. Its what I'm supposed to be!"

Cindy began to weep at her daughter's words. This is not how she raised her daughter. She raised Amber to become a success. To go off to college, to marry a rich man, to have a successful life. How dare she risk loosing all that by giving in and being a slut to a lower class black girl?

Desperately, Cindy look now at Trish with pleading eyes. "Please let her go. You don't need her. There are plenty of other white girls you could take. Please, not my daughter, not my baby."

"Yes your daughter, yes your baby. She belongs to me now. Isn't that right Amber?"

"Yes my Queen, I belong to you" ....WHACK...."Owwww.....59....thank you my Queen!"

Tears filled the mother's eyes as she listened to her daughter's admittance. Her breasts turning red as Trish moved the crop down over the white girl's well-defined stomach.

"Is it really so hard to believe Mrs Lowenstien? That your daughter would want to serve a black girl? Haven't you ever felt the urge to serve yourself?"

Cindy stared hard at the black teen through her tears.

"Haven't you ever wanted to kneel before a black woman and kiss her toes?"

"No never! That's horrible. I would never be caught doing such a degrading thing!"

"I didn't say anything about being caught. But privately, like in your home, with someone you've been very disrespectful to!"

Cindy couldn't help but look at the girl with confusion "I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"Amber has been telling me all about your black maid. The one who you behave very rudely to all the time."

Mrs Lowenstien didn't respond. She knew exactly what Trish was talking about. It was often that she had to yell at Lola for doing something wrong. But so what? Where was she going with this?

"Amber tells me that you love to order your black servant around. Having her cook your meals, clean your house, wash your dirty panties."

Again Cindy didn't respond.

"You just can't get enough of ordering a black woman around. But I know something that you'd love even more, (Cindy held her breath) if she ordered YOU around instead!"

Mrs Lowenstien's knees buckled, causing her to lean back against the wall to remain standing. A tingle of electricity could be felt deep inside her belly.

"I bet you want Her to tell you what to do. YOU want to be the one dressed up in a maid uniform. YOU want to be the one cooking HER meals, cleaning HER house, washing HER panties. YOU want to be HER servant. DONT YOU MRS LOWENSTIEN?"

Cindy completely shocked herself as she found her head shaking yes. A cloud of submissiveness was overcoming her. She didn't know how or why what the girl was saying was turning her on so much. All she knew was that her once cold, dry vagina was now hot and moist. Her mind was a swirl of images of her, a rich socialite standing over a sink, wearing a degrading maid's uniform, cleaning her black servant's dirty panties.

(WHACK) "Uhhhhh....60....thank you my Queen."

Mrs Lowenstien no longer protested the abuse of her teen daughter. In fact, she found herself becoming strangely envious of Amber. All this talk of serving her maid was making her...

Trish seemed to know exactly what was going on through the older woman's mind. It wasn't all that long ago, during one of her tension relieving sessions with Amber that she had predicted Mrs Lowenstien would be right at her daughter's side if she ever found out what was going on. And now it was time for that to come true.

"Amber, you may come down from the ropes. I want you to bring your mother closer to me."

Mrs Lowenstien watched as her daughter actually untied herself from the hanging rope, amazed that she could have freely released herself at any time. In a moment Amber had come beside her, taking her mother's hand, guiding the two of them to where Trish had taken her seat on the edge of the bed. The black girl's smooth, strong legs confidently on display as she sat crossed legged.

Despite being the one standing, Cindy very quickly felt small before the black girl.

"Amber, you may remove your mother's panties."

Cindy gasped at the order. Its implications swirled in her head like a tornado. Yet the moment became surreal when she felt her daughter's obeying hands reaching under her dress. As the hands slowly made their way up her legs, a voice deep inside Cindy was screaming, begging for it all to stop before it went completely out of control. But there was an even louder force inside her.

Her breathing became faster and more heavy with each moment passing. Her daughter's finger's soon wrapping around the band of her undergarment, beginning the slow tug down. By now Mrs Lowenstien's eyes were locked on Trish's. Unable to look away as her very own daughter rolled her silk panties down past her heavy thighs, knees, calves, ankles, and finally high heels. Instinctively Cindy raised her feet, allowing Amber to freely removed her mother's most intimate garment.

Rising again, Amber then handed them to Trish, who with a smile held it up for display on her crop. All three women could see the wet stain on it. The musky smell emanating from it revealed what the stain was from.

"My my my, looks like Mrs Lowenstien is a submissive white doggy just like her pretty little daughter."

Cindy moaned at the insult. All her life she's demanded powerful white men and women show her total respect, yet this impudent black teenager was calling her a dog, and she liked it.

Why was all this turning her on so much? How could she get so....horny....losing control like this in front of two teens?

Letting the silk panties fall from the crop, Trish continued her game of conquest. "Amber, you may remove your mother's dress.

"No!" Came the mousy, almost whispering objection from the fast falling wealthy socialite. Trish simply gave her latest conquest a deep, intimidating stare. Cindy didn't stand a chance as she passively allowed her nude daughter to grab hold of the top of her dress, and slowly began lowering it.

Mrs Lowentsien's heart was pumping a millions miles as her upper waist became exposed, followed by her intimate pubic mound. This was crazy. For the life of her, Cindy couldn't comprehend how this was all happening. How she was simply standing there submissively, being slowly displayed. All she knew was that she both wanted, and dreaded what was soon to come.

With the dress sliding past her curvy hips, it easily fell to the floor. For the first time she could feel just how truly turned on she was, as the cool air rolled over the cunt juice dripping down her thighs. It was a sight not unnoticed by the black tormentor.

"Now her blouse!"

Passively she watched Amber come in front of her and unbutton her blouse. It wasn't all that long ago that she remembered putting it on, in anticipation of the evening's social engagement. It was clear she would not be making it as her daughter soon went to work removing her last protective clothing, her bra.

Another second and Cindy stood completely naked in her high heels.

"Hmmmm, very nice. Its always a treat to inspect the intimate regions of America's wealthy white women. Mrs Lowentien please be a good dear and spread your lips for me with your fingers."

With trembling fingers and not an ounce of resistance left, Mrs Lowenstien, a wealthy upper class community socialite and mother of one, lowered her fingers to her moist sex, and promptly spread her labia lips for the black teenage girl. For the life of her, she couldn't understand how she could be so willing to allow this low class black girl to torment her like this? Why was it all feeling so natural?

"Mrs Lowentien, this puss is really soaking up isn't it?" Teased Trish, as she began slowly rubbing the older woman's opened, excited sex with the end of the crop, eliciting a low moan.

"You know Mrs Lowentien, you white females must really learn your place." Trish gave the trembling white mother's clit a light flick with the crop, making her knees slightly buckle.