Becoming Reparations Pt. 01

NOTE: All characters in this story are 18 or over. It also contains themes of dubious consent and interracial relationships set in a reality just a little different than ours. It will also include themes of breeding, DD/lg roleplay, and female submission to a Male Dominant. Some readers may find aspects the story offensive. If this applies, please feel free to stop reading. The real Mr. Hank Shaw has reviewed the events and character depictions that follow.

This first installment is a slow burn meant to introduce the characters and plot. I promise more erotic thrills in future installments.

1

Gravel crunched beneath my feet in time to "Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor playing in my ear buds. I could feel my brunette hair, pulled into a pony tail, brushing against the back of my neck and the part of my back not covered by my sports bra as I pushed to beat the toughest hill on my training route. Today, even as each breath became more difficult and my thighs burned from not enough oxygen, I was determined to beat this bitch of a hill. My cross-country coach told me the hill's grade was over 25% while other's guestimated it to be over 30%.

I tried to focus on the true end of the hill which crested about 100 yards after the next curve. However, the next curve is a sharp 90-degree bend that deceptively looks to be the end of the road.

This is why my cross-country coach wants me running this route. To train my mind not to focus on the finish line but past it. "Tiffany, you'll set the state record next year if you just learn to run past the finish line." That is my problem, when I see the end I slow, prematurely celebrating the end of the race and my victory. That's when I'm usually passed by whatever girl is running second.

My chest heaved as I drew closer to the bend. My mind willing my body to keep running. To not slow, much less stop like it normally did at the bend. I closed my eyes as I turned the familiar corner, pleased with myself that my pace didn't change. I opened my eyes and saw the crest of the hill a football field's length away and my body gave up out of sheer exhaustion and I slowed to a walk. Disgusted with myself, I pulled the ear buds not wanting to hear Dave Bickler croon about about the last survivor knowing that she was not me.

That's when I heard the crunch of rubber on gravel road. I turned and saw a black SUV approaching with plates from the neighboring states. As it drew closer, I saw a black man behind the wheel. He slowed to a stop as he reached me, his window smoothly rolling down. "Excuse me, Miss is this King Road? My GPS doesn't have maps for these backroads." His voice is so deep, yet smooth in a mesmerizing way. Dark aviator sunglasses concealed his eyes.

"Yes...yes, Sir. But you're about at the end of it. Once you reach the crest of this hill the last quarter of mile is essentially my driveway."

He smiled, lips pulling back in a warm grin revealing incredibly white teeth. "Last house I passed was about a mile back, so wouldn't this also be your driveway?"

I felt myself aroused by the sound of his voice and his flirtations, but I doubted myself. The boys at school often preyed upon us with flirtations that felt more like they were making fun of us instead of trying to get with us. I knew what this man was doing, I just couldn't believe it. It was so confident and subtle, unlike the jocular and over-the-top delivery of my classmates. That and he looked to be in his thirties.

I was about to respond with witty teen banter when my right calf started to spasm. I bit my lip and put my hands on his car door and stretched it out.

"Are you okay, Miss?" His tone took a concerned tone yet remained calm and smooth. I imagined he would be good in an emergency.

"No, I'm fine. You pulled up just as I finished my run."

"Must've been some run."

"Ten miles, my cross-country coach has me training for a half-marathon. He says I have a real shot at being first in state. As long as I don't take my eyes off the prize."

He was silent for a moment before giving me a grin. I realized then that by leaning against his vehicle, I had given him an unobstructed view down my sports bra. "Smart man, one should never take her, or his, eyes off the prize."

I stood up, irritated at the obvious sexual overture. "I may be 18, but I'm still in high school which means you're being..."

He took off his sunglasses and I was greeted with a pair of the deepest, most amazing blue eyes I had ever seen. The dark chocolate of his skin only making them more beautiful. As my calf's insistent tightening pushed me to lean against his car door once more, I no longer cared wherever he looked.

"Hello...Miss are you there?" His voice breaking his spell over me.

"Um, what?" I said, not moving from my leaning rest and not caring each time his gaze moved towards my breasts.

"I was apologizing for being so forward. I did not mean to offend Mr. Shaw's daughter. You must be Tiffany." He smiled and extended a hand. "I'm Hank Shaw."

In a moment I felt small, as if I were the cause of offense in all the world. I had forgotten that this was the day this stranger was visiting. I shook his hand. "It's good to meet you, Mr. Shaw. I've heard my parents talking about your visit." I looked away, no longer able to meet his gaze with good conscious.

"All good things I hope."

"Yes." I lied, we didn't know this man for good or bad. Just that there was a lot of anxiety about meeting someone who shared our name because of a dark history in our family's history.

"Do you need a ride the west of the way home? You look a little hurt, and it's so hot—your perspiring."

"No, I'm fine Mr. Shaw." I allowed myself to smile at his graciousness. "It's just that I stopped moving after a long run, what I need to do is cool down and stretch." I once more met his eyes, as I looked up, I noticed his gaze did not move from my cleavage. "Besides, I'm an athlete—Barbie girls perspire, athletes sweat."

"You know when to be sweet and when to be feisty." He laughed in a booming voice that did not fail to elicit a physical reaction from me. "I look forward to seeing more of you." After taking another lingering glance at my breasts he unceremoniously rolled up his window causing me to stand up straight before he pulled away towards my house.

I took a moment to stretch before walking the rest of the way. This man while charming had been a cause of worry between my parents since his registered letter arrived. He was a Shaw not by bloodline, but by the dark stain of our nation's history. I shuddered thinking about how someone in my family once owned someone in his. When we found out that my dad's distant great-great-great-great-grandfather had owned a slave it sickened us. I spent a weekend crying that I had that blood in me.

Reparations had passed allowing for descendants to lay claim to inherited wealth that directly came from the labor of slaves. I looked around at the woods surrounding me. This land had been purchased from that distant relative in the mid-1800s and kept in the family. While my father ran a successful electrical contracting business, and we were well-off in Podunk, Missouri I heard a relative say the Shaws are land rich, but money poor.

Mr. Shaw looked like a successful man by his SUV and dress. I, like my parents, wondered what he was after. What would he do with land in the middle of nowhere? My father wondered if he wanted a stake, or complete control, of his business. This sounded like the most likely possibility.

As I neared the house my anxiety and tension became too much. Looking at his SUV parked in our actual driveway I realized that the tension was not just about the perilous situation my family found itself in. Mr. Shaw had aroused me. Knowing that my parents were too busy to come out, and being an only child, I could safely find relief just off the road a little way in the woods.

I slipped my leggings down, my moisture wicking panties going with them. I noticed the dark wet spot in them and giggled at the sight as my fingers slid down my flat belly towards my mound. My slit was already open, my lips barely poking out from them. I imagined Mr. Shaw's cock, in my mind it was thick and veiny. While a virgin, I had seen a cock or two—not ready to give it up I found a hand or blow job often took the edge of dates and made sure my previous boyfriends didn't go home with blue balls.

My fingers slid across my smooth, hairless mound in search of my hooded clit. Gently I teased it from it's hiding spot. Rubbing myself in circles, finding all the right spots, I pushed my sports bra up and teased my perky nipples. As a runner I had a lean, flat body. My breasts while not flat, were not voluptuous although the boyfriends I let grope them seemed to not mind. Especially as my nipples, surrounded by quarter sized areolas, where highly responsive to touch.

Within moments I grit my teeth and tried not to moan too loud as I came not only from the physical touch of my fingers but also from the thought of Mr. Shaw having his way with me.

I stood, wiping the dirt and leaves from my bottom and fixed my clothing. The timing was perfect, I was normally dirty and gross with a flushed face after a run. None of the middle-aged adults would know as I strode through the living room on the way to my bathroom. I paused at the door to calm myself and then entered.

"...it'll be her decision." I heard my father say as I entered. He and Mr. Shaw were sitting down but stood up as I walked through the door.

"I understand, and I want that too. Nothing forced." Mr. Shaw agreed to whatever terms they had been discussing.

"Where's mom?" I asked.

"She's in the kitchen whipping up some snacks. I guess you've already met Hank."

He crossed the room to me, extending a hand.

"Yep, we met on the road. He looked a little lost." I started to shake his hand, however he grasped mine, bringing his other to hold mine tight without letting go. I blushed but did not try to pull away.

"Getting lost has never been more pleasant." He flashed that disarming grin of his. "Would you like to tell your daughter my proposal?"

Dad shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it seems like Hank took a liking to you. He originally came here planning on taking ownership of Shaw Electrical, but he would settle for a wife instead."

My jaw dropped.

"He's not saying that you gotta hop his car and elope right now. He would like to see if you're good wife material first. So, what he's proposing..."

"Just so you know," he interrupted my father with his deep voice, "I like what I see so far."

I could tell Dad was not happy with the way Mr. Shaw looked at me without releasing his hand and speaking those words. "Yes, well, in six months' time if he's fallen in love with you, he'll ask you to marry him. If you say yes, then he becomes part of the family and will relinquish his claim to reparations."

"Yes." I tried not to smile as I quickly agreed. "When's our first date?"

"I'll pick you up at six. Your parents told me about the only thing to do in this town are bonfires, the drive-in, or truck pulls. So, I'm thinking drive-in."

"Sounds good."

2

The warm water felt good on my body as it washed the sweat and grime off my body. Hot, steamy showers often felt good on my sore muscles after training, and my shower massage only made it feel better. Especially as the small jets of water found my pussy. I let out a soft groan as my fingers followed the path of the water.

The door opened and I heard my mother clear her throat. "I would definitely wash your bottom, don't want Hank to see any dirt!"

"Mom!" I screeched in shock and embarrassment. "You saw?"

"Of course, I saw, if you want to Jill-off outside get a hiding spot that can't be seen from the kitchen window."

I put the shower massage back in its cradle and peaked out from the curtain. "And whose to say he's going to see my ass?"

"Language."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." As she spoke, I watched her shoulders rise and fall as if in resignation. "It's just that Hank made it clear that sex is part of the deal. Your father couldn't bring himself to tell you. It's tearing him apart, me too. But then I saw you in the woods, and that gave some comfort that the attraction is mutual."

"Are you going to tell Dad?" I went back to my shower.

"Heaven's no! Men will watch their wife do just about anything—and do anything to us. But the thought of their lil' girls doing anything? It shuts them down. In his eyes, no man will ever be good enough to touch you."

"Good to know."

"Do you like Hank?" She asked as I turned off the water.

"I think I do. I don't know him. But..."

"He's hot. If I were your age, I'd be all over him. I must admit to being a little wet for him myself."

"Mom!"

"What? I'm a woman too." She winked at me. "Now towel off and meet me in your bedroom and we'll pick something out for you."

I finished drying off and wrapped my wet hair in a towel and wrapped myself in another towel as I stepped into my bedroom. Mom had some dresses laying on my bed, some of them hers. "Now Tiffany, Hank said he liked how helpful you were. He said you fit the stereotype of a polite country girl. Even though you had some fire. I'm thinking innocent look. How about something vintage?" She held up a blue-polka dot dress from the '80s.

"No."

"Okay then." She tossed it aside and moved to the next one. Then the next one. One after another were discarded until we had to pull another selection from one or the other's closets. We chatted and it helped us become more comfortable with the situation. While I liked Mr. Shaw, I couldn't help but feel a little like a prostitute. Or worse, pressured into it.

I shook those ideas away, it's not like his relative had any choice in his relationship with mine.

As I tried on outfit after outfit, mom filled me in on all the caveats of the deal Dad could not. She stood over me as I texted Adam McCulley and let him know that I wouldn't be able to text him anymore. I knew he planned on asking me out soon, but now that was not possible. Mr. Shaw wanted me to date him exclusively.

I was also told that I would be spending a lot of weekends away visiting him. He couldn't make it here but maybe once a month. He said he knew a guy who had his private pilot's license and could ferry me back and forth to Chicago on Friday nights and return me on Sunday. Tonight, my normal 11pm curfew was suspended, and Mr. Shaw would drop me off at home before he left to go back to Chicago in the morning.

"You know, I'm 18. Isn't it silly to have a curfew anyway?"

"No. When we were first 18, your father and I had curfews. The roofs we lived under were still your grandparents, so until we started paying rent or moved out, we had to follow their rules. Even once I started going to college in Kirksville, when I was back home, I had a curfew. And I was 21!"

"Fine."

She hugged me. "My only child. I can't believe you're about to move out."

"I haven't agreed to marry Mr. Shaw yet."

"I know. But I can tell you have eyes for him. And tonight, if you haven't already, you're going to lose your virginity."

"Mom, I still have it." I could tell this made her relax.

"Are you okay with sleeping with Hank?"

The question made me blush. "Yes. I'm nervous...but also looking forward to it."

"That's good. You're not on the pill, are you?"

"No, I'm not." I shook my head in surprise. "I mean, do you even have to ask? You'd know if I were."

"I didn't know if you gotten it behind our backs. As you pointed out, you're 18 now. Nothing your father nor I could do to stop you if we wanted."

"I'm not."

"That's good too." She looked away from me. "Hank doesn't want you on the pill. He says he likes the risk. Also said he wouldn't be wearing condoms or pulling out—unless he wanted to."

I froze at the unexpected condition. "What if I get pregnant? Does that mean I marry him automatically?"

Mom shook her head no. "No. If you get pregnant that doesn't alter the timeline unless he wants it to. Nor does it mean he has to marry you. The only consideration is he'll release his claim for reparations if you carry any pregnancy to term and not give it up for adoption."

"That's something at least."

3

After much deliberation, mom and I decided on my Easter dress. It had pastel flowers on a pink background. The top fit tight around my modest breasts and the bottom flared just enough to hide my white-girl's bottom—made flatter by running. At her suggestion, I didn't wear a bra. She said Mr. Shaw would appreciate it later. I borrowed a garter belt and pair of white thigh highs. She showed me how to put them on and recommended that I wear my panties over the garters to make it easier to take them off. "For potty breaks." She said, giving me a wink and sending us into a giggle fit.

Finally, she lent me a pair of pink high heels from her enormous shoe collection. I must admit that as I sat at her vanity as she did the perfecting touches on my make-up and hair I felt like a princess. We heard at knock at the door and I got anxious about keeping a date waiting. "Remember, a gentleman always waits on a lady." Mom reminded me, purposefully taking her time to make her daughter presentable for deflowering.

We listened to Mr. Shaw and Dad chatting for a little while. When mom was done, I put on my glasses. "I hope he likes a four-eyes." I said nervously.

"I'm sure he will, honey."

Mom headed downstairs, but not before telling me to slowly count to twenty before coming down myself. I obeyed, closed my eyes and began to count. I descended the stairs and saw Mr. Shaw smiling up at me. He was handsome in a pair of dark slacks and a soft blue button-up shirt that matched his gorgeous eyes. The shirt had a white collar and white French cuffs. He looked so incredibly virile, and I felt myself moisten at the image he struck. "Wow. Pink really looks good on you."

His approval brought a smile to my face. "Thank you."

"I'm glad, I've got you something in the car that'll match." He turned to my parents. "Eric, Stephanie, it was really a pleasure meeting you. Thank you for your daughter, she is such a wonderful treasure and I promise she is in good hands and I'll return her safe and sound in the morning."

With that he took me by the hand and led me to the passenger side of his SUV. It was parked so my parents couldn't see us, which I was thankful for after he helped me into the high sitting vehicle. He leaned in and gave me a kiss, I parted my lips and let him explore my mouth with his tongue. I closed my eyes expecting his hands to roam over my breasts. Instead I felt a powerful hand on my knee as he momentarily broke the kiss. "I love the feel of nylons." He said and kissed me again.

I sat there, melting into the seat as his hand slid up my leg, crossing over the lace tops of my thigh highs. He moaned his approval as we kissed. The pads of his fingers gently caressing the soft skin of my inner thighs. Obediently I spread my legs for him, granting him access to my now soaked panties. I broke the kiss as he rubbed my slit. "I think I'm flattered that you can't wait to take me until we're at least out of sight and earshot of my parents."

He just laughed. "Oh silly, lil' girl. I'm not going to fuck you in your driveway. I'm not a monster. I'm going to claim on a proper bed. I'm only sorry that it's the local no-band motel and not somewhere a princess like you deserves." He quickly kissed me again, not taking his hand off my pussy.

"That's alright, I know a lot of girls who lost their virginity there on prom night." I tried not to squirm too much in my seat.

"I figured." He disarmed me with his smile once more. "But I wanted to see how malleable you were. If you were obedient, or if I'd have to break you like a wild horse." He reached into his glove box and pulled out a plain cardboard box. "While I may not fuck you where your parents might catch a glimpse, I am going to collar you."