Mandingo Night

Interracial - Karma is a bitch

The most fun you can have with your clothes on.

Author's notes: Warning! This is an interracial story. If you need to give a lecture about faithfulness or STDs, give it to your own wife. Also, the premise of this story accepts reincarnation and karma as fact. If this offends your religious sensibilities, move along. Finally, people were just crueler 200 years ago, its a historical fact, get over it. This hopefully will be hot enough to be a Whack off story for the people who like these themes, as it does have a lot of sex in it. For those who don't like these themes please move along. Constructive comments are appreciated, hate speech will be deleted.

*****

This story is about a pair of pair of souls, trapped in the karma they created with each other: Leigh Samuels who was Lee Smith, Cayla Daniels who was Cain Dalbert, Dashaun who was Danisha, Marcus who was Mishana. Also Tony was Thomas, once upon a time. Today's lesson is about what you do unto others.

Leigh Samuels puts on her black nylon stockings over her long toned legs, the kind you can only get from lots of running. It keeps her ass tight, but she has to strap down her 36D's with two sports bras to keep from bruising the damn things when she runs. She is going braless tonight, because it always makes her cousin Tony go speechless. Dinner at Ming Chow, the Grand Opening of a surprisingly high end Chinese restaurant, but Tony has an in, for the biggest event in Atlanta for the year. All to celebrate her 23rd birthday. A quick shake of her blonde helmet of hair, trimmed right to the jawline, a quick touch-up of her makeup after work, slipping on the little black mini-dress that practically screams "streetwalker!" and she flounces out of her apartment into the hot summer night.

Tony meets her with their engraved invitation, in a white seersucker suit, and guides them inside. Somehow it seems so right to be served, to have the best in life, to be waited upon. Like it is her heritage. Until she is talking about Shemar Moore, the black hunk of divine chocolate from the TV show "Criminal Minds". An innocent comment really, about how hot he is...

"So, you want me to score you some tickets to Mandingo Night?" Tony asks as he bends over to look deeply, not into her eyes, but into her cleavage.

Leigh spews out her wine, her cheeks flush, and a sudden dampness floods her pussy. Mandingo Night! Where desperate white women beg black men to service them with their huge cocks! She has seen pictures of cocks she supposes are the same size as those cocks, and suddenly the depraved, debased fantasy of her doing it floods her mind like the drumbeat of the jungle. The more she struggles, the harder it grips her, whipping her passion until she can barely breathe.

Tony can smell her arousal, but can also see the fury rising on her face, then the orgasm grips her, as her hips thrust, and she passes out right into her won ton soup! Tony gently cleans off her face, then reaches down her dress to cop a feel. He isn't proud he did it, but he never knew when he might get the chance again.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Dreams sometimes come unbidden, as do memories. Although she would not remember much of it consciously, Leigh has a dream right then, of riding a horse, into Savannah, some two hundred years earlier, her open shirt revealing not breasts, but the finely chiseled chest of Lee Smith, plantation owner. His cousin Thomas has told him of a striking Nubian chained in the slave market, and told him that he has to see her. So he rode to the market and found the pole she is chained to, her head high, proud and fierce. She would be his breeding mare to sire slaves to work his plantation for generations, he swore. Her large breasts could easily feed them. Her heavy bush indicates she has an easily opened cunt. She has a round ass for whipping. Her thick lips could service his member, draining his seed of all which he did not force upon her tight rear. When he tires of her, he could just share her with his fellow farmers for sport. The copper plate hanging from the iron ring around her neck names her "Danisha", and his fires of lust are so engorged he spends half a years profit on her purchase.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Tony leaves after making sure Leigh is OK, while she is still unconscious. He didn't want to be around if the rage he saw on her face returned. On the other hand, he could not deny how turned on she had been. He drove to the part of town he never should have gone to, purchasing two tickets for his cousin. $300, altogether, and despite that he has to endure the abuse of the cashier as well. "Look, a Cousin Tom, feeding us the hot white pussy he can't have for himself!"

"He sure as hell ain't no Uncle! Hey, Cousin Tom, care to sell us your mother - you little dicked fucker? We'll give you a discount!" another black man standing nearby taunts.

Tony shuffles away into the night, never bothering to correct them about the name, or the size. He mails the tickets to Leigh and forgets all about it.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Cayla Daniels is Leigh's partner in crime, her confidant, her consigliere. She is the tight assed dark haired bitch goddess from her days as a cheerleader, and she isn't about to let anybody forget it.

"He did WHAT?" Cayla practically screams into her phone.

"Sent me two tickets to Mandingo Night. I can go twice, alone, which according to the pamphlet I received means just some dancing and watching actual social club members do whatever they do, or - I can take my best girlfriend in the whole Universe with me. That way, if it is as dull as I think, at least I will have someone to talk to, since it says doors open at 7pm, but no exit until 11pm. Weird huh?" Leigh says, faking boredom while she is literally chomping at the bit.

"Oh, honey, you better take me with you. Don't want to have 'the boys' raping your fine white ass. I'll keep you so close they'll never have a chance." Cayla purrs.

"But it's OK if they rape other parts of me besides my ass? Like my mouth? Or my hot wet pussy?" Leigh objects hotly, halfway to being enraged.

"Oh, honey, I'd better cool down your pussy with my tongue! Does your mouth need some good kissing? You know your best girlfriend in the whole Universe would protect your virginity - if you had any left!" Cayla teases as they burst out laughing together. Cayla takes another toke off her bong, as she waits for Leigh to stop laughing.

"So Monday sound good?" Leigh proposes.

"Yeah, I'm way too toasted tonight. Besides, might let one of the 'bruthas' cop a feel if he could hook me up with some new smoke. I'm about out." Cayla complains.

"Cop a feel of you - or of me?" Leigh taunts hotly.

"Hey, honey, you know I wouldn't sell you off cheap..." Cayla laughs, as they say their goodbyes.

"So 6:30 Monday, I'll pick you up. Be dressed to impress. Let 'em look at what they can never have!" Leigh taunts as she hangs up.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Cayla drifts off into her own unbidden dream, her own fragmented memory of another life. She becomes aware of holding two nubians by the hair, forcing the slimmer Mishana into the crotch of the luxuriously padded Danisha, a blasphemy bestowing eternal damnation in their religion. Hardly less than a mortal sin in his, as he sees his reflection in their water trough. Cain Dalbert has "borrowed" his best friends best slave while he travels up to Charleston on business. That means their souls and lives are his to do with as he pleases, and he uses them roughly, knowing they are damned souls when he is done with them. When he climaxes in one, he makes the other consume it. This enrages his libido again and again, making them serve him in ways so profane they have no names for what he makes them do. At least he does not whip them.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Cayla and Leigh park at the club in a suburb of Atlanta they would otherwise never visit, a place so black even the cops are black. Her 300-ES Lexus gleams in the night, among many other similar cars. Leigh reminds herself that whatever else they might think about them, at least they have good taste in cars. They catch a glimpse of themselves in the chrome plate of the door, the Bimbo Blonde and the Princess of the Dark who were both very popular cheerleaders, halfway to looking like hookers in their short red and black mini-dresses with 4 inch mules. Leigh never stops to ask herself why they need a chrome plated reinforced heavy metal door, but is somewhat annoyed with it when it doesn't open until Cayla pushes the buzzer next to it.

"Two tickets to paradise." Leigh teases boldly.

"Don't recognize you two. Ever been here before?" the clerk, a genteel older black man asks respectfully.

"Nope. Heard a lot about it." Cayla brags.

"Doubt that. If you knew the truth, you never would have stepped foot inside that door. That's neither here nor there, you are here now. Left side, check in, security, then the dancing area. To the right, members area. You can look but can't touch until and unless you join. These tickets give you three hours, 50$ per hour - " he explains gently, like he has done a thousand times before.

"But it's seven and the pamphlet says we have to stay until 11!" Leigh burst out.

"That's right little lady, and as I was going to say from 11pm until 2am you can stay if you are accompanied by a member, or otherwise our bouncers will make sure you leave. We would prefer that you stay and have a good time." he adds sternly, then softens his tone.

"Sounds like a dickfest to me. Whatever." Cayla dismisses him.

"To the left, through security. No cameras, cellphones, purses, or for that matter even heavy jewelry allowed. We have lockers for you to keep your stuff safe." he added.

"What about drinks and stuff?" Leigh worried.

"Drinks and noshes provided, no charge. Everything you desire is free until you buy your member access. You are provided for, so please, have a great time!" he said cheerfully.

"Did you see the way he nearly drowned in your tits? He's got to be rubbing one out right now!" Cayla whispers as they walk to security. A black curtain, a velvet rope, and a burly former football lineman of a man who simply points at the rows of lockers, which have a clip like an overgrown diaper pin with a number that matches the locker.

"There's no lock?" Cayla objects.

"I'm right here all night. Nothing will happen to your stuff. Unless you're suggesting I'm incompetent to watch it or likely to steal it. Trust me, I make more than the two of you put together." He says as he blocks Leigh from moving past him with his arm.

"Wand scan. Had a gal with a pistol up her twat a week ago. Not sayin' you would, but we can do the light scan or the full court press. Object any more and you'll both find my fingers in places you don't want them just yet." he warned. He then uses the metal detector to check them, front and back, without touching them.

"Good to go." he said warmly.

So far, the place is not impressing Leigh. It is like a trailer grafted onto the side of a building, and they had come in one end of the trailer. In front of them, in the last half of the trailer, is the lounge, with Marvin Gaye and Barry White playing softly, not like you would expect at a club. About half a dozen couples are dancing, every one a black man with a white woman. The thought of being trapped here for four hours makes Leigh's stomach curdle.

"C'mon, there's drinks and food at the back." Cayla observes.

The drinks turn out to be varieties of Dr. Pepper, the food is vienna sausages and white bread.

"Gag me." she says involuntarily.

Then Leigh sees him. Proud. Fierce. He holds his head high, looking like he is seeking out a woman to for mating. 'Make it me, make it me!' She pleads to herself. His thighs are strong, with light pants for the summer heat. His sparkling shirt drew her eyes to his magnificent chest, then up to his full lips. 'What could he do to me with those lips?', she asks herself. It is only then she sees what flops against those soft pants with every step he takes. He can breed every woman here twice and still sire a legion of new children in a single night she is convinced. He strides right to her, offers his hand very politely, and asks her "May I have this dance?". To everyone around her it seems she has become a statue, as she can smell him now, the sweet and sour sweat mixture glorious, her body responding to him, as she tries to shake off her daze, and then he is moving away while she desperately reaches out to grab him.

"But you shook your head no." he protests lightly.

"But you shook my body yes." Leigh says warmly.

"And your name is - " he leaves the question in the air.

"Leigh." she says softly, as she tries to pull him closer.

"Dashaun." he answers softly, then gently cups her ass cheek before giving her a twirl. 'Did he really do that?' mixed with 'I really want him to do it again', starts her temperature rising in an already sultry room.

Cayla is rather piqued at Leigh. Clearly the best specimen has been snatched up by her - until she sees him, gliding along the back side of the lounge. He is living sin, a handsome street thug, and forbidden to her, as she wrestles with her strict church upbringing. This is all fine when Leigh is just playing, but Cayla is seriously getting turned on watching her best friend (and often lover) groped by a black man! Now the only way out she can see that her pussy will accept is to steal Leigh's man while claiming the thug as her own, giving herself to both of them. Preacher Joseph Moses would have her switched if he got an inkling of what she is now craving to do.

"You look - interesting." the thug says as he glides up next to her.

"You look dangerous." Cayla replies.

"I am dangerous. I will take your panties off in your mind and be inside you before I finish this sentence. I'm Marcus - and I'm the best you'll ever have." he says proudly.

"Better than him?" Cayla points to Dashaun.

"Dashaun? He's good. Already touching your girlfriend's ass, teasing her tits. Very old school seduction. Me? I'm much more New Wave. I go straight for the Mind Fuck." Marcus brags.

"You couldn't fuck my mind if you had ten friends to help you." Cayla taunts.

"Are you a woman of your word?" Marcus asks as he closes in on her, "Because on the street, your word is everything." he says in a very cold voice that sends chills down Cayla's spine.

"I am. I swear, as God is my witness, I am." Cayla goes back to her rock, her faith.

"Then bet me a nice slow sloppy blowjob that I alone, without touching you, can completely fuck your mind in less than two minutes." Marcus brags.

"Done and done. No way you can do anything more than surprise me." Cayla bets.

"Follow me." Marcus steps out towards the curtain that Cayla guesses separated the trailer from the main building. Passing through the curtains, Cayla found herself and Marcus in a deserted hallway, with aluminum handrails on either side, as the ramp led down the length of the trailer to ground level. He is already at the other end, waiting for her.

"Behold." Marcus swaggers as he stretches out his arm. She walks around the corner to see.

There is another rail, with half a dozen couples pressed up against it, mostly the guys rubbing their cocks against the rumps of the women while playing with their breasts. But they aren't the show, they are the audience. The wall between the trailer and the industrial building is three inch plexiglass. There are four rooms she could see, one with naked white women being taught to deep throat the cocks of very well endowed black men, the second one has white women being taught to ride the huge cocks while black women instruct them. The third room has two black men 'spit roasting' a very happy buxom redhead, and the final room has a women who could have been Racquel Welch's or Sophia Vergara's sister taking on three enormous black cocks at once, while two black women coach her. Cayla sees that her impression of the first room is wrong, there are thick, booty-luscious black women there too, one pulling up a blonde poor little white girl to push her face down into her snatch, as the black woman teacher sat down in a plush chair, throwing her legs open wide. She demonstrates the proper techniques on the young black man whose cock she has just snatched from her, who stands beside her chair, his long thick prick sliding almost all the way down her throat as she turns her upper torso sideways to take it. The blonde licks and looks, licks and looks.

Cayla comes so hard she sees stars and passes out. Marcus props her up against the wall and heads back to the dance area. "Consider that our first fucking. Won't be the last." he says to himself.

Marcus taps Dashaun on the shoulder. "Her girlfriend passed out. I think she should come help her."

Dashaun doesn't say anything to Leigh, merely presses his hand firmly into her back, guiding her out into the hallway, then down around the corner, to find Cayla waking up.

"What did you do to her?" Leigh shouts.

"I fucked her. I fucked her hard." Marcus said firmly.

"That you did. Give me a hand up and I'll show you I'm a woman of my word." Cayla brags.

"Not tonight. Tomorrow, if we are lucky." Marcus winks at her.

"Could you all just tell me what the hell is going on?" Leigh demands.

"Easier to show. Turn around dear." Dashaun guides her shoulders with his hands.

"Ca-o-ck. Ca-o-ck!" Leigh chokes out hoarsely, as she points like a golden retriever with one hand, the other up to cover her mouth in astonishment.

The young blonde is laying back on the table, her head hanging off the side, one hand stroking his long, thick shaft - while the other is slapped away from her pussy by the black woman teacher, who lubes up a dildo, half the size of the man the young woman is sucking, and rams it up into her snatch. The young woman is using both her hands and mouth to plead for him to cum, while the matron fucks her hard, rubbing her clit off with her other hand.

"Fuck that's hot!" Cayla cries out.

"That could be you and I tomorrow night." Marcus promises, as he pushes Cayla up against the Plexiglass, her ass caught by the rail to thrust out behind her. Marcus starts rubbing his huge cock between her tight ass cheeks like a footlong hotdog caught between her hot buns, only his workout pants and her panties between them. His hands reach up to find her nipples stiff and throbbing, as he twists them gently, rubbing her nipples very lightly with his fingertips.

Leigh is watching all the action, all the fuses in her mental circuits blown. It really is true. They really do suck and fuck big black cocks in front of everybody! She wants it to be her and she can't possibly let it be her under any circumstances. Dashaun wraps himself around her, his left arm lifting up her heavy left breast as his hand takes full ownership of her full right breast, kneading it like dough. Her sopping wet pussy is being rubbed off through her clothes by his right hand, as her tight butt gets the impression he has a third arm sticking up from his pants, pressing insistently to be let in between her cheeks. She knows it is as thick as her wrist, just from rubbing against it.

"Oh fuck, I need you to fuck me!" Leigh cries out.

"You white people, you are such takers. You are going to learn how to give. You are going to learn how to give a deepthroat blowjob to my cock, with both hands on the shaft, until I cum in your mouth. Then you are going to learn to give that up whenever I want. Then you are going to learn to give up your tight pussy onto my big black cock, until I cum inside you. You are going to learn to give it up whenever I want. Then you are going to learn to give up your tight little ass to my big fat cock, and you are going to love giving it up whenever I want. I won't even have to ask, you will beg me. And none of that is going to happen tonight." Dashaun laid her out with that cold thought right before she is about to come.