Invasion of the Ghetto Sluts

Work had been getting busy, so I was working extra hours. Things were going well until I received a call.

"Sean, we've been robbed."

I rushed home, hoping to make sure everything was okay. I found police at my door, with Emma.

"Are you okay?" I asked, rushing to my wife.

"I'm fine. I found it this way when I got home." Emma said.

"What got taken?" I asked.

"The ring, Sean. Just the ring." Emma said, emphatically. The Civil War ring. The ring that had been in my wife's family since the Civil War. The ring that was the most valuable possession we had. The ring that I showed Monique and Sydni. I looked over at their house. They were standing at their front door, watching the action over here. I looked right at them.

I didn't want to be that guy. The guy that assumed the guilty parties were the only black people in the neighborhood. But they knew about the ring. No one else around here did.

"What?" Emma asked, noticing my gaze.

"They knew about the ring. They saw the ring. I showed it to them." I said.

"I knew it." Emma said, stomping over across our lawn to theirs. I followed quickly.

"Did you take it? The ring? Did you take it?" Emma yelled out at Sydni and Monique.

"What are you talking about?" Sydni said.

"You know, don't you? The ring. My Grandma's ring!" Emma said, shaking in anger.

"Why the fuck would we want a slave owner's ring, you racist bitch!?!" Sydni said. Emma slapped her. She slapped Sydni across the face. I was frozen in shock. Sydni looked at my wife, with pure anger in her eyes. Quick as a flash, Monique sprinted forward in her friends defense and slapped my wife harder than I thought possible, knocking her down. Monique pounced on Emma, punching, scratching, and hair-pulling while Sydni watched the fight happen, screaming at my wife. I pounced, grabbing Monique by the waist, pulling her away, having to use all my strength to lift her because she was seeing red. A cop ran to us, and separated Sydni from my wife. I tossed Monique aside and ran to my wife. She was bloodied, bruised and scratched. She had bumps and bruises on her head, a swollen eye, and a bloodied lip. I pulled her to her feet, but she was not done.

"This is all your fault!" Emma screamed, angrier than I had ever seen her. "If you guys had never moved here, and brought all your nigg..."

"OH, DON'T YOU DARE BITCH!" Monique roared, stepping closer, forcing me to jump in the middle.

"Say it, bitch. SAY IT!" Sydni screamed. I wrapped my arm around Emma and dragged her away, towards our house as the cop held back the girls. I pulled her inside.

"What are you doing?" I said loudly.

"They took our ring!" Emma screamed.

"We don't know that for sure." I said.

"You said it yourself. They knew about the ring. Tell me you trust them...go on!"

Emma studied my face with wild, angry eyes. I opened my mouth to say something, but had no argument that would satisfy her, so I close it again, impotently clenching my jaw.

"I didn't think so. Those two have been bitches to me since they moved here. I tried to be nice, but they just come at me. Those girls are evil. I can feel it." Emma spat angrily.

"Maybe so, but screaming racial slurs won't help." I said.

"It just slipped out. You know I'm not racist." Emma said.

"I know." I said comfortingly.

"But, they're just, they're such stereotypes! I'm sorry, it's just that, if they don't want to be viewed as something more than just Ghetto women, they should act like it. They blare loud music. They waste money. They dress cheap. They act 'all street'. They're bitches. " Emma said, airing out her grievances. I let her get it all off her chest.

"It's just... I'm not racist, but I don't like them. It's not that they're black, but those two are evil. And I know they stole my grandma's ring. I know it." Emma said, looking like she was about to cry. I pulled her close and hugged her.

"I love you." I whispered.

"I know." she said.

"We'll get the ring back." I told her. I kissed her on the forehead. There was a knock on the door. I went to it and the cop was standing outside.

"Can we talk?" he said.

Turns out, Sydni, and Monique had alibis for the time of the robbery. They had multiple people vouch for the whereabouts, and they were able to confirm it by a cell-phone video recording. Sydni and Monique were innocent. But the problem was Emma started a fight with them. Even though the girls won the fight, it was on them if they wanted to press charges. Emma was in handcuffs while they tried to figure everything out. The girls were sitting on their front stoop. I figured I should try to talk them down. I walked over to them.

"Can we talk?" I asked. Sydni looked up at me angrily. Both of them looked unharmed by the fight. Angry, but unhurt.

"I knew it. A couple of black girls can't move to the nice neighborhood without being accused of being criminals. I didn't realize how fucking racist you two were." Sydni said.

"We're not racist." I said.

"Uh, hello... you heard the word your skinny white bitch just about had cross her thin, racist, lips!" Monique said, gesturing towards my wife, indicating her actions.

"She's not racist. She was angry." I said.

"It's amazing what you can get away with when you're angry. You could say anything and not mean it." Sydni spat, mocking me.

"I heard that when people are mad, their true selves come out," Monique jumped in.

"Too true, Monique..." Sydni agreed, "I guess the SLAVE owner doesn't fall far from the tree."

"What can I do so you guys don't press charges?" I asked, holding my hands out submissively. The turn this conversation had taken was making me uncomfortable, as I had no defense prepared for Emma's words, and both Sydni and Monique seemed incapable of forgiving her. If I was going to gain their favor, I'd have to take a different approach. They looked at me, appraising me. Sydni whispered in Monique's ear. Finally, they looked at me.

"I'll make you a deal." Sydni started. "We won't press charges. In exchange, you spend some time with us. Helping us out. If you can convince me that you two are not racist, we won't press charges. If you can put aside your prejudices and help us out with a few things, nothing too bad, nothing bad will happen to your little wifey."

"What are you saying?" I asked, rubbing my head in frustration.

"Let me put it in terms your racist ass will understand." Sydni started, standing up and stepping close to me. She stopped about a foot in front of me, Monique not far behind. "We won't press charges on little Emma there if you agree to be our slave... to make up for her family's history. A bit of... reparations."

I gulped. That was such a loaded word, a word you don't say in the company of a black person.

"What do you mean, slave?" I asked.

"I mean you do whatever the hell we want you to, and in exchange, wifey stays out of jail." Sydni said.

"What would I have to do?" I asked, wondering what she meant by slave.

Sydni stood and sauntered up to me, wrapping her soft hand around my neck and drawing me down to her height. She placed her full lips next to my ear, and I could feel her hot breath tickling me. I gulped, my throat working heavily. The hairs stood up on my neck from her electric touch. Monique smirked confidently.

"Nothing you don't want to." Sydni whispered.

I looked back at Emma, and she looked at me, pleading with her eyes to get her out of this mess. I looked at Sydni and Monique, at their arrogant, yet gorgeous faces.

"Fine." I said, coming to a tacit agreement to be the 'slave' of these two black women.

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

I presented this arrangement gently to Emma, telling her that they wanted me to help out with a few things. She was not happy, and we had a few fights about it, but I reminded her this was her fault.

There were no leads on the ring but the investigation was ongoing. The ring was an expensive piece of property. I didn't want the cops stopping until that ring was found.

The bad luck did not stop there. A few days later, my car crapped out on me. It was an older car, so it was a matter of time. But I swear, just a few weeks ago, it looked fine when I'd looked under the hood. The price to fix it was not worth the trouble, so just like that I was in the market for a car. In the meantime I was renting a car, a minivan to be precise, to get to work and go about my daily duties. It was as I was pulling into my driveway with my rented minivan that my 'servitude' began.

I had just had a really bad day at work and was just eager to get inside and relax. And the last thing I wanted to see was my neighbors strutting over to me. Those girls, who sat around at home basking in their winnings. They looked perfectly styled, evidence of how easy they had it. And now these girls had power over me. I had to do what they said, or they would press charges and put my wife in jail. These girls had kicked my wife's ass, and now I had to do their bidding. I had to show them that I would not be so easy to control. I would not play their game.

"Hey Sean." Monique said arrogantly, wearing a very light, thin pink blue dress, with a matching pair of gaudy, pink earrings, bracelets and stiletto heels.

"Sean." Sydni said with little emotion. She was tight denim shorts and a low cut pink tank top, a bit less showy than her friend but no less attractive.

"We've been waiting all day for you to get home. We want you to take us shopping." Monique said.

"Girls, I'm really beat. Can we do this another time?" I asked, really not feeling up to dealing with them.

"I thought we had a deal, Sean." Sydni said, looking right into my eyes, staring me down. I sighed in frustration.

"Fine, let's go." I said, exasperated that I just couldn't go home and relax. I started walking back to the minivan when they stopped me.

"Uh, we ain't riding in that thing." Sydni said, looking disgusted by the van, "We'll take my car."

I shrugged and turned around. We walked towards her sports car, the red one...the one I'd been eying since they'd moved in. I didn't want to give away my excitement, so I kept my cool, but I actually couldn't wait to see how this baby drove, even if it was a passenger. Emma wouldn't even let me test drive one...she knew it'd just make me want one even more.

I started walking to the passenger seat when Sydni put her hand on my shoulder.

"Uh uh. You drive." Sydni said, dropping the keys in my hand. "You sit in the back, bitch." she added, slapping Monique's large ass, displaying again that even though she was the more petite of the pair, she was definitely the Queen Bee. Monique complied with her friend without dispute. I wanted to be annoyed with being forced to drive these women around, but part of me looked forward to driving this car. So I wasn't too mad as I sat in the driver's seat, Sydni sat in the passenger seat, and Monique in the back. I turned the key and the engine purred to life. I revved it a few times.

"That's some good shit, huh?" Sydni purred.

"Yeah, that's nice." I admitted, forgetting my annoyance for a moment. As we pulled out onto the street and sped off, I admired how well the car drove. "It rides like a dream." I added. Then I remembered where I was and the annoyance I felt with these two.

"So, what's this 'slavery' all about? What are you gonna want me to do?" I asked, ready to drop out of this deal if they wanted something that crossed the line. Sydni looked back at Monique and smiled. "What?" I demanded sternly.

"We are both convinced that you are one racist motherfucker." Sydni said.

"You know that's not true..." I interjected before I was interrupted.

"As I was saying." Sydni said firmly, shutting me up, "We are convinced that you are racist. And we know your wife is as racist as it gets...that ring proves it's in her blood. She displays that fucker with pride. I looked her name up online...her family tree is littered with some notorious slave owners. She plays that liberal white guilt, she may even deny to herself that she has it in her, but her first impulse is accuse her black neighbors of thievery and drop the N-Bomb when things don't go her way...she's a fucking racist," Sydni paused to let this sink in as I drove, "But that's her. You, Sean, I believe are a good, open minded person deep down. I believe that there is hope for you. What we are trying to do is get you to confront your racism and get over it. We don't think you have been around a lot of black people. So we are gonna teach you about black culture. We are gonna teach you about black music, black women, the ins and out of black sex..."

I nearly choked on my own spit as she said this.

"Excuse me?" I said, "I don't want to know anything about black sex."

"Wow." Monique said, looking offended. "I thought you said you weren't racist, sugar...even the idea of fucking a sexy black bitch offends your delicate sensibilities, is that it?'"

"Uh, I meant no offense." I stammered.

"Sean." Sydni said calmly, "How black people fuck is part of who we are. Especially with black women."

"I know how sex works, thank you." I said, eager to end this line of questioning. Monique laughed loudly and Sydni giggled lightly, only slightly smiling. It struck me how rarely she smiled, and when she did, it seemed to be a façade.

"Sean, you clearly don't, since you clearly have never been with a black woman." Sydni said matter-of-factly.

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"Sean, if you had been with a black woman, you wouldn't be with a white woman." Sydni said confidently.

"What do you mean?" I asked as I reached a stoplight. She looked right into my eyes.

"If you had experienced what a black woman could do, you would have one sucking your dick, right now." Sydni said. I looked at her with wide eyes.

"Or maybe two." Monique added. I gulped and kept my eyes forward as I resumed driving.

"It's a dirty little secret that white girls will never tell you. They all know that black girls are better lovers. They all know that black girls are capable of things that they could never do. That's why they are so scared of us. So intimidated. Cause they all know we fuck their men better than they do." Sydni said.

I was stunned into silence. It was ridiculous! How could they say that all black women fuck better than white women? Sure, there were probably some that did, but surely not all. There were some black women that just exuded sex appeal. But some white women did too. I had never been into black women, but I could admit that there were certain black woman who seemed to be built for nothing but sex. Those black women seemed just filthy. Something about them let you know they were nasty. I hate to over generalize but a lot of them were brash, loud, and outspoken. Some seemed ready to either fuck you or fight you. They were flirtatious and intimidating at the same time. Obviously, not all black women are like this. The women I am thinking about are those really ghetto black chicks. They seemed trashy, and tough, but something about them was so fucking sexy. Was it their big black breasts? Their full, round black asses? Their gorgeous, sexy black faces? Their brash, intimidating attitudes? Like these two, Sydni and Monique. Both of them seemed to fit the bill of the perfect ghetto black slut. But something about that was kinda hot. They had beaten up my wife, but why did I think they were kinda hot. They should be repulsive to me.

I was looking for anything to change the subject.

"So, where are we going?" I asked.

"Just follow my directions." Sydni said. For the next few minutes, I followed her directions. The silence in the car was deafening, so I turned on the radio to my favorite rock station. Both of the girls reacted as if the music playing was nails on a chalkboard.

"This not your kind of music?" I asked with a bit of smile at seeing their discomfort.

"What, you think if it's not rap, we don't listen to it, you racist mother fucker?" Sydni said quickly.

"Uh, I, uh..." I stammered. Then Sydni smiled.

"I'm just fucking with you, Sean." Sydni said.

"Yeah, you're right. All we listen to is rap." Monique said with a laugh, "Or if we're not listening to rap, it's gotta be hip-hop!"

"Well, maybe I can enlighten you on the joys of rock." I said, turning it up. Sydni reached down and changed the station. Deep beats filled my ears.

"Uh, that's better." Sydni said. "My car, my rules."

I rubbed my ears, uncomfortable with the heavy bass.

"You not much of a rap fan, Sean?" Monique asked.

"Not really." I said.

"Well, we can teach you all about good fucking rap music." Monique said, "I'll make you a mix tape."

I laughed as we continued to drive. I was surprised as we reached our destination. A car dealership. A high end one, with some expensive looking cars.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

"We're thinking about getting another car." Sydni said calmly as we pulled into a parking spot.

"What? You have two cars already! Sports cars!" I said, amazed at how willing they were to causally spend lots of money.

"We want to get a truck or some shit. Something nice and big." Monique said as we stepped out of the car.

"So why am I here?" I asked.

"We could use a man's opinion. Plus, you know you're shit about cars. Figured you could help us out." Monique replied.

"Fine, whatever." I replied, resigned to my fate.

For the next half hour or so, we browsed around at the different cars. There was a wide range of cars here, from used to practically new, from economical to ridiculously expensive. No one came up to help us, so we were on our own. I tried to steer the girls towards practicality, with nice, useful trucks, but they would shoot down every suggestion I made. It wasn't until we made our way towards the nicer, more showy, more expensive trucks, that they got interested. I warned them against them, due to the poor gas mileage, being big targets for tickets, but they were not going to be swayed. I was getting frustrated as they shot down every suggestion I made, until it reached the point where they practically dismissed me, telling me to look around for a bit. Quite frankly, I couldn't be happier.

I was in the market for a car, so I took the opportunity to look around. The cars here were a bit too rich for my blood, so I was just checking out the nicer looking cars more than looking for a car to possibly buy.

"Can I help you?" a man said, approaching me.

"Oh, no, just looking." I told him. He was a few years older than I, handsome sure, but he had a bit of a scheming quality to him. A typical car salesman.

"You in the market to trade up?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, just wondering if you're satisfied with what you have. Cause you wouldn't be here if you were." he asked.

"Well, I am in the market, but I'm just looking right now." I said.

"Well, do you need any advice?" he asked.

"No, I know my stuff." I said. "I came with some friends to give them some advice, but they aren't taking it. Maybe you could get through to them." I said, pointing, trying to shoo him away.

"Maybe I can. If you need anything, let me know. I'm Jeff by the way." he added, heading towards Monique and Sydni, who were out of sight.

"Okay." I said, glad to be rid of him. I looked at cars for a few minutes more, and was a bit surprised to see Jeff walking briskly away from where the girls were at. But my confusion was gone as soon as I saw it.

"Holy shit!" I muttered to myself. A 2011 Aston Martin DBS. A nice, deep black. One of the top sports cars in the world. One sexy fucking car. I couldn't help myself as I opened the door and sat in the driver's seat. It felt so good! So right! This was like a dream car for me. Then I looked at the price tag.

"Oooh shit." I said with a laugh as I realized it would only ever be a dream to have this car. Let's just say the price was in the six digits. Emma would laugh in my face if I told her I wanted this. I didn't want to tempt myself any further, so I opened the door and got ready to step out. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. Before I could react, Monique slipped into the backseat behind me, taking her hand off my shoulder, and Sydni slipped in next to me.