Black Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders Ch. 06

"Have you...tried to talk to her? Like we've discussed?"

Simons could see Mrs Clark's eyes widening in fear. She could tell the teacher had tried and didn't care for the results. Instead she simply gave a stoned nod of the head.

"And? What went wrong?"

"She didn't agree. She said I didn't deserve to be treated like a real teacher. That I was a...'Stupid Prissy Cunt Bitch' and that I need to be put in my place!"

"SO? You didn't disagree with her?"

"Oh Jess, I tried. But when I went to move my lips, nothing came out. She just stared at me and I felt like the stupidest thing on the planet. What is it about her that I cannot stand up to?"

Miss Simons held her colleague's hand in comfort, yet wasn't sure if she should tell Marsha all about Natural Dominance and its hold on them.

"When I said nothing, she asked me if I needed to be extra punished for being such a dumb bimbo teacher. She said brain dead white women like me need to learn their lesson and if I wanted her to give it to me!"

"Please tell me you said NO?"

"Remember what happened last week in class? What I did...to myself under my desk? I know you saw it. I saw the look on your face afterwards..."

Miss Simons thought back to last week, to the moment Mrs Clark was talking about. That day had been a bit disturbing to say the least. Mrs Clark had just assigned the class to read several chapters in their text books. This was nothing new, as Clark often made the class read in silence as she checked their assignments at her desk.

Except this time, things seemed a little odd. Ok a lot odd! While Miss Simons sat off to the side of the room, making sure the students properly read, Mrs Clark's shaking body caught her attention. When Simons turned to look her way, she saw a very distressed teacher pleadingly looking in Brandy's direction. While Marsha was shaking her head hopefully no, Brandy was shaking hers demandingly yes.

After brief few moments of this, Mrs Clark's head dropped in defeat and raised a trembling hand to her top drawer. Reaching inside, she took hold of an object and raised it out of its storage. It was a small paper clamp.

Jessica watched in confusion and mild curiosity as Mrs Clark held it up in the air for a moment, her mind obviously trying to resist what ever it was she was about to do. Then, as apparently all good white women do nowadays, Marsha surrendered her will and lowered the clamp below the table, between her legs, under her skirt and...

Miss Simons jaw dropped when she saw the immense look of pain on her fellow teacher's face. "No! She did not just! She couldn't have!" Simons chanted in her mind.

With watery eyes, Mrs Clark removed her hand from under her skirt with out the clamp, only to reach back inside the open drawer and pull out another. Just like before, she slowly lowered it below the desk, between her knees, and under her skirt...!

Tears were beginning to run down Mrs Clark's cheeks as new pain clashed across her face. Miss Simons had no idea where those clamps were being attached, but had a vague and sympathetic idea. With amazement, Simons watched the once no-nonsense teacher reach yet again into the drawer and pull out another clamp. With tears still running down her cheeks, Mrs Clark was now looking timidly at Brandy before mouthing the word "PLEASE"! Brandy simply stared back unmercifully.

Down went the hand, beneath the desk, between her thighs, and up her skirt...

Several students suddenly looked up in surprise and concern when their teacher gave quite an unexpected yelp from her desk, before seeing her drop her head on the table and her fingers scratching at the top of the desk. Immediately Miss Simons had reacted to the situation and told the students to get back to reading, all the while consoling Mrs Clark and encouraging her to compose herself. But never once did Simons question where those clamps were put, until now!

Marsha took a moment, staring at Miss Simons questioning face, before sighing again, "What you saw that day was my punishment for trying to get her to treat me better. For being a stupid dumb bimbo white teacher who can't think straight and 'respect' her black student's rights to torment me.

"Marsha," Mrs Clark began, "Where did you put those clamps?"

Mrs Clark's eyes began to water as she looked at Jessica, "On my pussy!" She began to sob slightly as she held Simon's hand tighter. "Two on my...labia lips...and the last one on my...clit...!

Miss Simons closed her eyes and shook her head. Oh had the mighty have fallen. Gone was the dignified, bitch who once ruled this class. Replaced was a timid, shy, submissive white woman who willingly put paper clamps on her pussy for a black teenage girl.

"I had to wear those retched things for the rest of the day. I can't remember a single thing that happened I was in so much pain. Except of course for after school, when I presented my cunt to 'Mrs Brandy' to show her that her good little pet teacher had followed her instructions. She rewarded me by spanking the clamps off to my screams."

Both women hugged each other in comfort. Two women, once Queens and rulers of their domain, now submissive little playthings to their black subjects. And the worst part about it was, they both wanted it!

---

For the rest of the week, Miss Simons suffered (and enjoyed) an extra dose of humiliating experiences. Every evening she found herself at the home of her most hated rival, wearing the most undignified cheerleading uniform, with out the panty bottoms of course. Every day saw Mary increasing the humiliation more and more. Early on she tired of seeing Simons constantly having to catch her tits from popping out, and so got great thrills forcing her to cheer with out the top, watching them fly about on her chest. Simons also became very intimate with her pompoms, prancing around the house with one in her pussy and the other up her butt as she performed "Dale Field High to Victory", a cheer Mary had always despised until now.

The absolute worst was when on Friday Mary presented Simons with an honorary cheerleading uniform from her own squad. The green and white material was so unbelievably tiny, it would have had problems being put on a ten year old. But wetter than ever, Simons humored her former rival by squeezing into them and willingly chanting the other school's cheers. Jessica didn't know if she wanted to cry or masturbate to this newest low, so she did both, right there on the living room floor as Mary took pictures.

Of course Simons had other obligations after school through the week as well. Twice, on Wednesday and on Friday there was cheerleading practice. By now things had pretty much gotten routine on the squad, if you can call the things that went on routine. Every practice was aimed at highlighting the black girl's athletic abilities, while at the same time exposing as much of the pale and pink flesh of the white girls as possible. Trish had become so daring, that she came up with some of the most blatant stripper like routines yet.

One of her favorites was having the white cheerleaders do hand stands right before the bleachers, only to have the black girls stand behind them holding their legs apart. Simons could only imagine the gasps and whistles from the crowd when this would be done for real. Another favorite was 'sneaking' up from behind and lifting the white teen's top when she was right before the crowd. The poor devils did their best to act all ashamed, but they clearly knew this was going to happen. After all they had practiced doing it several times.

Miss Simons new that these things were wrong and that she once had the power to put an end to it. Sometimes she would see the looks on her white girl's faces when they were forced to do something extra humiliating. The look of "Miss Simons, we trusted you!" was written all over their faces. Knowing how she had betrayed their trust hurt her a lot, but made her feel hornier a lot more. She simply couldn't help it. She was like them now, a submissive white cheerleader, kneeling before sexy black feet.

And it was those sexy black feet that Miss Simons was thinking about while she was busy rubbing her soar breasts against her chest after just finishing a vigorous jumping routine. Especially Trish's feet. Just about all she ever thought about these days at practice was serving those pretty toes. It was no secret that Miss Simons had a big thing for the amazon like black beauty. Even the white girls poked fun about it behind her back. Jessica wasn't quite sure why she was so hot for the black teen, but knew well enough that Trish was the cause of her whole life turning upside down. If it weren't for Trish, she'd still be the coach, still have her respect, and still would be feeling...empty. That's right. The more Simons allowed herself to fall further and further into a pit of submission, the more she realizes that she needs it more than anything. For so long she felt she was missing something in her life, some purpose to be a part of, some one to serve. That someone was Trish.

But Trish already had someone for that. Already had a white female sucking her toes, licking her pussy, and serving her with all her being. That somebody was Amber. Pretty little blue eyed, blond haired, sexy Amber. As long as Trish had the hard-bodied teen at her beck and call, how could she ever want the wonton middle aged woman. Instead she found herself fast falling the prey of the young black nymph Sasha during the day and later at night to her gloating rival Miss Struat.

Just as Miss Simon's eyes were beginning to focus back into reality from the fog of her thoughts, an unusual sight caught her attention. Sitting at the far end of one of the distant benches was a small figure, a girl. Simons was a little worried at first, being naked from the waist up in front of anyone outside of her squad wouldn't be advisable. Trish had forced her to cheer topless. Yet Jessica simply couldnt understand who or why someone would be watching a simple highschool cheerleading practice. Miss Simons eventually went back to bouncing her breasts with the group, but for the rest of practice the girl sat and watched. No emotion, no reactions. Just sitting and watching.

The same thing happened again on Friday. Halfway through the routines, the girl once again appeared on the bleachers, watching intently. Something about the girl seemed oddly familiar to the former cheerleading coach. Something recognizable about the petit spectator with short red hair. But just like Wednesday, the girl was gone when practice was over and Simons had not gotten a good enough look at her.

Back inside the showers, Miss Simons gingerly washed the delicate folds of Sasha's sex and her cute round ass as she knelt before the black girl. Miss Simons could tell the young girl was excited about their session together after school, since the water from the shower was beading down her oily sex. The low moans and head pats were enough of an indication alone for Jessica to press a little harder against the girl, encouraging a sexual favor, but the throat clearing from Trish reminded Miss Simons to do otherwise.

It was definitely quite the sight for any visitor who would have entered the showers. Half a dozen black teens, standing like Goddesses under the warm shower spray, with six equally attractive white teens on their knees before them, washing and cleaning the sweaty bodies like slaves. Actually only five of the pale skinned cheerleaders were teens. The sixth would have been the older, but equally submissive and horny Miss Simons.

After the showers, Simons waited with the rest of the white cheerleaders on the floor for a chance at one of the wet used towels to be thrown her way. By the time she was finally done dressing, and dreading her drive home with Sasha, Trish unexpectedly called the former coach into her office.

Tentatively, Miss Simons opened the door and walked inside. Sitting at what was once her desk was Trish with an odd expression on her face. It was a look of pleasure. Taking a very brief glance down, Simons could see two pale soles sticking out from underneath the desk. The first thing that popped into her mind was Amber.

"I won't keep you long Miss Simons, its just that I wanted to...ohhh...ask if everything has been going ok with you?...aahh..."

"Um, yes, everything has been going fine. Why do you ask?"

"Its just that you seem to have been...uhhh...little bit out of things this week...ahhhh...is there anything you'd like to tell....ooohhhh....me?

Miss Simons knew what Trish was getting at. Even though she tried her best to act normal, her nightly visits to her rival's house must have been having its effects on her in some way. Should she admit to Trish what she has been up to since Monday? What would Trish do or say in response? Instead of taking that chance Miss Simons decided to hide the truth. So with the wet smacking sounds getting louder beneath the table, Jessica faked ignorance. "Sorry if I've appeared unlike myself. There is nothing wrong with me and I promise to improve my performance to your liking..."

"See that you do. Remember that there are always other white girls that would gladly take your place if you should faulter.... aaahhhh.... yes...goooood girl!!!!"

Trish closed her eyes and focused hard on the tongue lapping at her black pussy. Miss Simons looked down again at the two feet poking out from beneath the table. Now that she thought of it, they were a bit smaller than Amber's... Just then none other than Amber stepped through the office door, completely dressed and awaiting Trish to finish. Miss Simons stared opened mouthed from Amber, to Trish and back to the two pale feet. Jessica knew full well that all the other white girls had gone home already, so who the hell was that under the table?

Before Miss Simons could give it another thought, Trish waved her former coach off just as Sasha burst through the door to collect her pet. Taking the older woman by the hand, Sasha dragged a confused Miss Simons out of the office and out through the female locker room door. The last thing Simons could hear were the cries of female orgasm. Who was that girl?

The drive home was quiet. There was not much Miss Simons could say with a hand constantly inside her pants. Did Sasha HAVE to do that will she was driving? The young girl just couldn't stop from giggling herself silly every time a truck would pull along side them and Simons would panic. "Maybe we should show that dirty trucker where my handy is huh?" Simons knew the punk was probably kidding, but there always was a chance she would follow through with her suggestion. None the less, just like Wednesday, the drive to Sasha's house was a very frustrating affair. Thankfully, after gingerly licking her tormentor's black pussy to orgasm, Sasha was only too kind to allow Simons to diddle herself for the child's entertainment. Unfortunately before the horny middle aged woman could cum for her black vixen, Sasha's mother pulled into the drive way honking and waving. Never in her whole life did Simons rush as fast as she did hiking up her pants and wiping the student's juices from her face. By the time Jessica had finished saying her hi's and goodbye's to the naive mother, Simons was sure she had peed in her panties from fear. When Miss Simons arrived on the front porch of one Miss Mary Struat later that Friday night, Simons was in no mood to put up much of a fight, not that the frustrated horny woman wanted to!

---

"Cindy! Get in her this instant!"

"Yes Mistress Zamora? Is there anything wrong?"

"What the hell are these?"

"Those are your panties Mistress, 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?"

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

"Gosh you must be dumb. Your just begging for another paddling aren't you?"

"No Mistress Zamora, 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'm cleaning all the time."

"Then why is there dust on these shelves? Gosh, you must really want that white ass red don't you?"

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

"See that you do. I will not tolerate lazy white bitches serving me!"

With that, Lola threw her soiled panties at the face of a flustered Mrs Lowenstien, who very quickly ran out of the room towards the bathroom to personally hand wash them.

As was her life now, at least at the home. Outside Cindy Lowenstien still managed to hold on to her image as a confident, respected wife and mother. But in her own home, she was nothing but a sniveling servant to her own maid.

Her pussy twinged as she washed the silk panties. She had so often been the one yelling at Lola to do the same thing, yet now she was the one doing the washing. And they were actually HER silk panties. Lola had taken possession of all her expensive undergarments ever since the day of her confession. She still cringes as she remembers Trish driving her home in her Mercedes, and forcing the wealthy women to admit her desires of servitude to her shocked maid.

Never the less, Lola had taken the news quite well, and was only too happy to switch roles with the stupid former Madam of the house. Now Cindy stood in the bathroom with a maid's uniform, washing the soiled silk panties. Just the simple thought that she had asked for this, and wasn't forced to be a servant kept her puss a buzz as she rid the stains from her former expensive silks.

It wasn't for another hour that Amber walked through the front door. The highly fit and attractive daughter to the former Matriarch of the house was immediately greeted by the sight of her mother in a most subservient position. Amber couldn't help but smile at the sight of mommy dearest on her hands and knees in the kitchen, busily scrubbing the tiled floor. Her maid bottoms failing to properly cover her bare ass as she crawled to and fro. Amber new that the freshly shaved cunt nestled between those thighs had been under Lola's orders, or Mistress Zamora as her mommy now called her.

"Hello mother!"

Mrs Lowenstien looked up and smiled from the floor at her daughter, who despite all the changes was still the apple of her eye. "Hello Sweetie! How was school today?"

"Oh ok, I think I did real well on the math test."

"Fantastic. I knew my baby was a smart girl. Some day you'll grow up to be somebody, I just know it!"

"You mean somebody like you?" An evil chill ran up Amber's spine at her own words. She knew it was awfully mean to point out her mother's subservience so openly, but the look on her mother's face was simply too priceless. Mrs Lowenstien had always preached success, good breading, and superiority to her budding daughter when she was growing up. But her classy mother was having a tough time preaching to her now.

Her mother instantly lowered her head in shame at her daughter's words. "Please Amber, this is tough enough for me to handle with out my pride and joy laughing at what I've become."

"Sorry mother, but you make it so easy." With an evil grin of revenge Amber lifted her finger and pointed to a spot on the kitchen floor, "You've missed a spot maid." Amber giggled as she turned away and marched up to her bedroom to change.

A single tear rolled down the new maid's cheek as she began scrubbing the spot Amber had pointed to. She had lost the respect of her own daughter now, and to her there was now nothing else left to loose.

"CINDY! I am still waiting for that iced tea!"

"I'm coming Mistress...I'm coming!"

"Not if I can help it slut!"

Those were the self humoring words Amber heard when she stepped back out of her room, the large towel covering the pink bikini she wore beneath it. Trish had complained to her as of late that she was becoming too pale for her liking, and needed to golden up that white skin a little. She reached the bottom of the stairs just in time to see her mother scurrying out the back door with a tray holding one freshly made iced tea.