Black and Blue

Jean's voice was clear and decisive. "Did white boys tell you Black men couldn't get their big cocks hard?" She tapped his length against her cheek meaningfully. "Another lie. Just like the idea any white boy knows how to fuck like my man. It ain't what you've got its how you can use it. That's what they say - but what if you have both, eh? Ask your next white boy about that."

Again the low bass chuckle from Julius Moore as he stood above Jean. "You finished showing off - we got a job to do."

Jean looked up at him. "I know Daddy but she came here to find out and so I'm telling her. Besides she needs to know - just like all white girls need to know."

Now Julius laughed freely. "Shit little bitch you trying to get me a little Police-bitch for my collection." His eyes moved back onto Claire and again she wanted to speak but found her mouth dry, her mind unable to find the words.

He paused and again the smile flickered at the edge of his mouth. Then his eyes moved down and his concentration was back on his woman, back on Jean. "What you here for little bitch?"

"I'm here to be bred Daddy - I'm here for your strong Black seed."

Julius snapped his fingers and Jean quickly got to her feet and stood holding the edge of the sofa. She moved her legs apart and Julius took a hold of the bottom of her medium-length skirt and flicked it up onto her back. Jean was naked underneath.

"Yeah," crooned Julius, "there we got it. What type of pussy this little bitch?"

Jean wiggled her rear end at him invitingly. "White girl pussy - primed white girl pussy - your pussy Daddy."

Julius just grunted his approval and stepped up. He moved the big broad head of his Black cock against the inviting lips of his woman's pussy. The dark flesh gleamed, lubricated by Jean's saliva and her wet pussy. Jean gave out a long shuddering sigh as he pushed his cock home.

Claire couldn't help watching, seeing the contrast in skin-tones, the dark flesh moving deeper and deeper into the pink pussy, claiming it.

"Yes Daddy," moaned Jean, "close the deal. Make me yours - give me what I need."

A dark hand descended onto the pale swell of her buttock - the smack leaving a pale mark as he moved his hands to grasp her hips. Then he was fucking her with heavy rolling strokes.

"YYyyyeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssss," growled Jean. She dropped her head and closed her eyes, savouring every moment, every distinct sensation of it.

"You still here Police-bitch - time you was gone." Julius hadn't bothered looking at her this time.

"I... I still have questions." She found the words, her eyes still fixed on what was happening in front of her, the Big Black Cock easily moving in and out of Jean's small pale body, easily claiming its prize.

It was Jean that answered through gritted teeth. "White girls in this house follow Daddy's rules. Daddy says get gone so you get gone. Understood." Then her head was down again as she focused on what was happening, as her excitement grew with every movement.

"What rules - your rules?" She spoke to Julius now. "What are they?" Jean was gone into her own world of pleasure, eyes closed and cheeks flushed as her body shifted to the thrusts of the big Black cock.

"Only my bitches get to know - for now you just get to go. Close the door on yo' way out of here."

There was no more to be learned. Claire left and pulled the door to behind her. As she moved quickly down the stairs the noise of their lovemaking slowly faded behind her.

***

The Chief had been pleased. The case had been settled with no additional drain on the County's resources. Of course she hadn't quite told him everything. She hadn't told him about going back that second time. She hadn't told him that she didn't intend to let this lie.

There was still something happening here that she hadn't grasped. If Jean had run off with a Black guy then why wasn't she living with him. Why was she in that neglected and barely-furnished top-floor place? She also suspected there had been a sub-text between the two that she hadn't picked up on. She needed to talk to Jean again but first she needed to know about this Foundation.

She knew one thing - this would have to be her own enquiry. The Chief wouldn't approve Dollar one - shit, the Chief wouldn't approve full stop. As far as he was concerned Jean had chosen her own way and that was it. Claire didn't agree. There was something behind all of this and she was determined to find out what it was, even if it took up all of her free time for months.

***

Jean sat in her vehicle and glanced in the mirrors and round the car. It was quiet and all clear. In front of her stood three tall buildings with a scattering of low-rise around them. A subtle sign identified them as 'Taylor Foundation properties'. Google had been her friend - but not to the extent that she had expected. There were a few news items, a few standard Corporation records and a few pictures of a well-dressed and avuncular, if aging, African-American with various notables at various opening and awards ceremonies. She had looked long and hard at those photos. This Taylor was clearly a man of influence but she'd found no profiles of him on any press site. The Foundation got some passing mentions but the man himself had an enviably low profile.

There was sound and movement up ahead. A convoy of three yellow school buses pulled to a halt and a tidal wave of small humanity rushed off them and headed towards the buildings. There was the excited noise of youthful chatter, laughter and argument. A large African-American man had taken position on the road with a 'school crossing' sign in his hand. He laughed and joked with some of the children as they crossed in front of him. Claire kept observing, watching closely for any clues but there really wasn't much to be seen. It was just like at home - almost. At home of course nearly all the children and most certainly the crossing guard would have been white. That guy would never have got the job in Milvain County. He looked more suited to be a bouncer. However, it was the city and maybe it was different here. Just like the youngsters were. Claire had only seen three or four that might have passed for white.

The road cleared and the crossing guard retreated to the sidewalk where he lit up a cigarette. Five minutes later three more school buses arrived and the procedure was repeated. Claire was still watching intently when there was a sudden knock on her window.

She cursed herself for not paying more attention to her surroundings. She looked out and saw a Metro PD officer, his other hand on his firearm. She opened the window.

"Excuse me ma'am. This road is open for access but it is private property. Can you give me a reason for your stopping here?"

"I'm sorry Officer - I had no idea. I was just taking a rest after a long drive. I'm actually law enforcement myself." She reached for her badge and showed it.

His blue eyes narrowed and he held out his hand to scrutinise her ID more carefully. "This ain't somewhere you'd reach when you are on your way somewhere. Care to try again?"

Two more men approached them, both African-Americans. One was slim and athletic and wearing a well-cut suit. The other was built like a brick outhouse.

The man in the suit approached the Officer and held out his hand. "Thanks for the call Todd. There a problem here?"

The Officer sniffed and offered him Claire' badge. "Not sure Antwan. The lady says she's legit and has this."

Antwan studied the badge, a half-smile formed on his lips. "A long way off the reservation Ms Doyle. Not sure a Milvain badge cuts much ice here. That right Todd?"

The Officer shrugged. "You're the one married to a lawyer Antwan. Suggests she isn't a problem though."

Antwan gave a slight nod. "My apologies Ms Doyle but nowadays we have to be careful. Too many crazies with guns who think its a 'political act' to shoot at elementary school kids who don't look the way they like. You catch what I'm saying. We take precautions round here - with the help of our city's finest of course." He gestured at the Officer.

"I'm still not clear what she's doing here," the policeman persisted.

"Suspicion comes as part of you folks' jobs," smiled Antwan at Claire, "perhaps you can put our minds at rest - before you leave." His smile was warm but his words were not to be ignored.

"I'm, er, investigating a possible abduction. You can check my bona fides with Detective Sansom."

"Already talked to him," said the Officer drily, "after my partner called your plates in. He said that case was settled."

"It probably is," admitted Claire, "I'm just trying to tie up one or two loose ends. For the paper-work you know." She smiled a winning smile - if there was one thing that united all law enforcement it was their attitude to paper-work.

It didn't work. The Officer only grunted. "If you need any information then Detective Samson says to contact him. He says if you get caught hanging around Foundation premises again then I should take you in to see him. That count as a fair warning to a sister Officer?"

Claire nodded ruefully. She'd made a total mess of things.

Antwan had been watching them carefully. "If Ms Doyle needs to know anything about us then I'm sure we can arrange a conversation with myself." He leaned forward and took another look at Claire and then seemed to make up his mind. "Perhaps with myself and Mr Taylor. I'm sure he'd be happy to meet you Ms Doyle. We really have nothing to hide." He held his hands out with their palms open. Then he reached into a suit pocket and handed Claire his card.

Claire was surprised but chose to ride her luck. "What can you tell me about Julius Moore?"

Antwan looked slightly confused. He turned to the huge man behind him. "Tyrone - you know this Julius Moore?"

"Huh," said the colossus, "only his Momma and his bitches call him Julius. Thass the Closer - you know him Antwan."

Now Antwan's face broke into a ready smile of comprehension. "Ah, the Closer. Yes we know him or at least of him. I believe Mr Taylor offered him a job once but the Closer prefers to go his own way. There's not much we can tell you about his current activities unless..." He glanced over his shoulder but Tyrone simply shook his head with a stern non-committal look on his face. Claire recognised it from when they'd arrested Floyd Abenethy over in Milvain.

"Well," said Antwan pleasantly, "if we can help you on anything else you have my card. Do call us before you visit again won't you. Meanwhile you'd best be on your way if you want to miss the rush getting back home." His smile was warm and genuine but Claire got the message. Antwan was in charge and it was time for her to go.

***

She did indeed leave but not to go home. She soon found herself again parked outside of the shuttered up store. She had no idea who was in the ugly building over the road at the moment. She also didn't feel inclined to wait to see who came or went. She was in her civvies today and this didn't seem the best area for a white woman to be in alone as dusk was falling.

She pressed the buzzer for admittance without thinking too much about it. "Delivery for the top floor," she said.

There was a cackle of laughter through the grill. "Dumb five-oh cracka - you think I don't know its you. You sure you just for the cracka up top."

Claire said yes and felt the blood in her cheeks. She'd made a mistake pressing the same button but the click of the door opening made her feel a little better. Until she heard the laughter from up the stairs of course. She knew the old woman was waiting for her.

"Here she be," came the delighted cackle as she took a turn in the stairs. "Not in the uniform today eh, you don't scrub up too bad for a whitebread. Guessin' you'll soon be taking a few deliveries upstairs yourself." Her laugh echoed off the walls again.

Claire adopted her sternest manner. "Thanks for letting me in ma'am but I'm really only here to speak to Jean."

"Oh yeah," the old woman gave her a filthy leer, "listen whitebread there's only one reason cracka bitches come up these stairs. Always been the same." Then she turned back into her room and closed the door.

Claire continued up the stairs and knocked on the door at the top. There was no answer and she turned the handle. The door opened. She examined it and saw the lock hadn't been fixed in the two days since she had been there.

"JEAN - MR MOORE," she called each name once but something told her there was no-one there. She looked around and her earlier observations about the place were confirmed. No-one lived here. It was purely a place with a function, a place for people to meet. Presumably a place for Julius and his women to meet. The old woman's comments had taught her that Julius had more than one, or perhaps had a long succession of ones. Did Jean know that? Claire instantly corrected herself. She had see Jean with Julius, the expression on Jean's face, the - what should she call it - the ecstasy on the white woman's face as Julius had taken her. Jean had to know that Julius had a lot of women, a lot of 'bitches' as he called them. Why did Jean know that and why didn't she care?

Claire went into the kitchen. No stove but the makings for quick snacks. A coffee machine and a small fridge containing milk and beer.

The problem with doing these things on your own was that you had no partner watching your back. Claire was still in the kitchen when she heard the front door shut. She swore under her breath and decided to make the best of it. "PATROL OFFICER INSIDE. I'M COMING OUT," she called out in a nice clear voice. Meanwhile she pulled her personal protection sidearm - just in case.

"Come on out then," said a male voice. It showed neither surprise or concern.

She held her gun as she stepped back out of the kitchen. She expected to see him but he wasn't there. Suddenly she heard his voice behind her.

"No need for the weaponry. Besides, if I wanted to shoot you then you wouldn't have heard me come in. Point the gun at the floor and turn round slowly."

She obeyed. There was a calm authority to his voice that made it damn clear that she had no option. She expected to turn round into the muzzle of a gun but he was simply sat in a chair and looking at her. He pointed a finger up into the corner of the room's ceiling. She saw a muted red light and realised that there was a camera there.

His voice broke into her racing thoughts. "Just for your information I've told the local corner-boys to keep an eye on your ride - make sure nothing happens to it. That ain't the best place to park unless you're in right with them."

"Thanks," she said and put her gun back into her coat pocket. It seemed ridiculous to be waving it about. He'd proved that he was in charge of this situation and he wasn't in the least worried about her gun.

"Is Jean here?"

Julius laughed to himself. "I'll take that as a compliment but even I need to recharge sometimes. My little bitch is coming over for her regular in a few minutes." His eyes were challenging her to comment, but that challenge was amused rather than proud.

She chose to take the bait. "Why do you call her that - why not call her by her name?"

"Call her my little bitch 'cos she's a cute little piece and she's my bitch. Too confusing for you?" That smile was there again. "You see her complaining? She's loving being my little bitch, my beck and call girl. She's following the rules and reaping the rewards."

"Jean mentioned the rules last time. What are they?"

Julius paused and raised his eyebrows. "Rules like breaking and entering or searching without a warrant. Those sorts of rules?" He smiled again. "Don't worry about none of that. I've got nothing I'm inclined to hide."

"So those rules?"

"Rule One is that I'm a busy man and ain't got time to be fooled with by my bitches. When I say 'get gone' you bitches get gone."

"I'm not one of your bitches."

"Nah," again Julius raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "then you don't need to know my bitches' rules." He smiled and put his hands down on the table in front of him. "However, this is my place and so that rule still applies don't it? Especially for uninvited guests." Now his eyes were on hers. Deep brown pools that seemed to draw her into them. She recognised the charisma there, the presence. The way she knew he was near her even before she saw him. The way he could dominate a room without saying anything. The way she felt out of her league even in as gentle a contest of words as this had been.

She didn't respond. Instead she waited to be ordered out. That was absolutely his prerogative - she had absolutely no right or authority to be there.

Instead he just sat there and watched her - like a cat with a mouse. She had her gun in her pocket but it didn't give her any sense of security. What was it that man Antwan had said. That she was 'a long way off the reservation.' He had been another one like Julius Moore. That same presence, that same authority, that same assured status as... as what? What was it that made them like very few people she had ever met. The confidence, the knowledge, the security of, of... Her mind flashed to those nature documentaries they were always showing on TV. They called their kind the alpha males. Yes, that was what they called them. The males who were in charge and possessed all they had because of their ability, their skill and their power.

The other males would moan and kvetch and hang about the outskirts hoping for scraps. Just like Mr Butler or Skeet or her ex-husband. Always griping about what they couldn't have or couldn't hold onto. Alphas didn't need to complain. Alphas possessed what they had by right.

Which left the females. Had they no say in the matter? Well those with the alpha got the best - the best protection, the best food, the best and strongest offspring. So the female sought the attention of the alpha. That was just nature and nature was red in tooth and claw.

She suddenly realised where her thoughts had taken her - wondered how long she had been processing those thoughts. Probably only seconds but it could have been much longer. She felt the heat of blood come into her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she said.

He smiled at her. "No problem. I was enjoying the view. I like a cute redhead but I'd like to see your hair flame-red you know. You'd look even finer than you do now."

Now she felt the heat in her cheeks reinforced. She'd assumed his attention on her was caution or curiosity. He'd just told her that it was something more. She felt herself react to his interest, react in a way that hadn't been familiar to her. Getting hit on was nothing so unusual but getting a signal of interest from a man like this that was something else entirely. She felt the blood pumping through her veins, the rush of adrenaline, the power of the thoughts and images suddenly rushing through her brain.

He was still watching her, his deep brown eyes locked onto hers. She didn't quite know how to respond, her mouth felt dry as dust. "The rules?" Her voice reduced to a near croak.

"I told you that my rules are only for my bitches. I'll let you know Rule Two if you understand that once you know it then it applies to you too. Want to know it?"

"Yes." She still felt the blood in her cheeks and hoped it wasn't too obvious.

"Only my bitches get to come here. Understand?"

"Yes," she said.

There was a fresh rattle at the door. "What the fuck Julius - Desiree says you've got a fresh bitch up here. Who... OH!" Jean stopped and put her hand to her mouth as she noticed Claire.

Julius chucked. "You know you got all my attention at the moment little bitch. No need to be getting jealous." He stood and put his strong arms around her, his mouth meeting hers in a tender kiss.

"Who gave you your first Black fucking little bitch - who showed you what you'd been missing all that time."