Black Girls Can't Be Cheerleaders

"Coach, why don't you kiss my feet first. To show me you truly understand how nature works."

There it was. The cheerleader was now asking her coach to fully admit her subservience to her. Fully admit that she, an adult white woman was naturally submissive to a teenage black girl, and that white women as a whole were submissive to black women.

Miss Simons didn't move. She just knelt there, staring at the black girl's feet. Her lungs breathing heavily and her heart pounding in her chest. One of the black girls gently began pushing her head forward. The coach didn't resist.

She inhaled the sweaty odor as her lips made contact with Trish's left foot. She began to plant tiny, little kisses all over her feet, alternating between the right and the left foot.

Miss Simons had accepted her place. There would be no turning back now. Trish knew it, and smiled down at her latest conquest.

"Hmmmm, good girl....good white girl. Now you may rub my feet." After five minutes of silent rubbing, Trish spoke again. "Miss Simons, I've been thinking. Being in charge of an entire cheerleading squad is a big responsibility. I'm not sure an adult white woman like yourself is smart enough to do the job, would you agree?"

Miss Simons gave a half hearted nod.

"Well perhaps you should step down then Miss Simons, since it's too difficult for your brain to handle. Wouldn't it be better if one of us black girls were to take over? You know, run the show. We all know your not cut out to lead us. Of course you would remain the "Official" coach of the squad to keep the school board happy, but your coaching days are pretty much over."

Simons hung her head in agreement.

"But don't look so sad coach, perhaps you could still be a part of the team anyhow. You would be just perfect as a cheerleader. You already know all our cheers, and you already have the airhead part nailed down. You'd fit right in I'm sure."

Miss Simons couldn't believe what she was being told. How could Trish expect her to be a cheerleader? She was 33. Trish had to be kidding. Wasn't she?

"But first we need to find you the proper uniform. Why don't you remove all your big girl cloths and we'll go find some."

Miss Simons froze. There was no way that she'd expose herself in front of her girls like this. She was still the coach damit, despite what Trish was saying. She had to end this now, before it was too late.

Trish saw the rebellion forming in her coach's eyes, and knew just what to do. She raised her left foot and gently rubbed it against her coach's right cheek. Within moments, Simon's resolve had melted and she closed her eyes as she enjoyed the sensation on her cheek. Trish smiled as she soothed the white animal before her.

"Now my little pet, remove your cloths for black Mistress."

Black Mistress. Yes, thats what she was. It sounded so perfectly to the white coach. This was her black mistress. Just like grass is green, and skies are blue, this was her Black Mistress.

With trembling fingers, she began to undress before all the black cheerleaders. Trish snickered in her head at the site. Only 10 minutes ago this was a confident female coach, yet now here she was, undressing before them and getting ready to try on a cheerleader's uniform.

As Simons unsnapped her bra, her large breasts bounced free. Soon she was kneeling completely naked before them. Trish got off of the table and took hold of her coach's hair. With a big tug she led her crawling pet out of the office.

Poor Miss Simons struggled to keep up with the black vixen, as Trish briskly walked out of the office and into the locker room. In the meantime, all the other black girls laughed and giggled as they commented on the way her ass jiggle and large breasts swayed beneath her. Some even started slapping her ass to increase their enjoyment.

By the time they reached the lockers, the coach's knees ached and her ass stung. Trish opened the locker of a girl named Katty. Katty was the only freshman cheerleader they had. At 14 she was the cutest little thing when she wore her small skirt and top, especially when she was on the floor licking between the toes of her black "friend".

Now that same small uniform was dangling in front of Miss Simons.

"Here you go coach, I think this is just in your size."

More giggles could be heard as Simons just knelt there with my mouth open.

"But Trish, its too small. It wont fit."

"I disagree, I think it'll look just peachy. Now try it on Miss Simons, I know you want to listen to me. I can tell just how badly you really want a black girl to tell your adult white ass what to do. Just look at that mess your making on the floor."

Poor Simons looked down in horror and saw a nice little puddle between my thighs. She inwardly cringed as she thought: "How could I get excited by something like this? Do I have no self respect, no morels?"

The coach felt that she still did, yet as she rose to put on her new uniform, she also realized just how comfortable it was to listen to Trish. Despite the immense humiliation, she felt complete doing what she was told to do.

When she slipped the small top over her large breasts, it felt like it was threatening to burst from the pressure of her fleshy mounds. The thin material doing nothing to hide her hardened nipples.

Next she slid the micro skirt up her legs. It barely even covered the bottom half of her ass, and showed her entire legs. Then she looked around for some panties, and soon realized that there weren't any.

Um...Trish...where are my...panties?

You wont be wearing any Miss Simons. In fact, none of the white girls will be wearing panties any more. Its one of my newest rules as cheerleader's coach. Just think how happy the fans will be, lots of great cheers, and lots of white pussies.

Simons looked in the mirror and saw how truly ridiculous she looked. An adult woman wearing a 14 year old's cheerleading uniform. Any sudden movement and her vagina clearly showed. How humiliating.

"But Trish, I looked ridiculous dressed like this. Can I Pleeeeese take it off?" She was sounding more like a whining child than an adult.

"Don't be silly, you look adorable. My little white girl will be the best cheerleader ever. However, even though you look the part, we first have to make sure you can really handle the physical demands of being a cheerleader. Ready for a run Miss Simons?"

The coach's eyes opened wide. She knew that Trish meant the "lap run". It was a program that Miss Simons had created herself to make sure all the cheerleaders wear physically fit before letting them on the squad. Girls had to run 4 laps in under 6 minutes or they wouldn't be allowed on. It was a grueling run. Many of the girls cursed Miss Simons for making them do it. Now she was going to have to run it herself.

****

As they walked out of the locker room and onto the field, Simons was scared to death that a student or parent would still be around and see her dressed like this. Thank fully, there weren't any that she could see.

"Ok coach, you remember the rules. Four laps in 6 minutes or less. If you don't make it, then you wont be a cheerleader." Trish reached under her coach's skirt and gently caressed her ass. "And you really want to be my little white cheerleader don't ya?"

Blushing, Miss Simons nodded her head.

"THEN START RUNNING"

Trish gave a hard slap on the ass and her coach was off and running.

Miss Simons began running briskly along the track. As she ran she quickly realized just how truly small her uniform was. With great effort she held one hand over her bouncing tits to keep them from falling out, and used the other hand to keep her skirt from riding up her hips and flashing her ass and pussy.

By the time she had finished one lap she was already exhasted. Even her arms were getting tired from actively holding down her uniform.

To add to her torment, the black girls had spread themselves out along the track and took cheerful delights in swatting their coach's behind each time she ran past.

****

Two laps down. Now she was having more and more difficulty keeping pace. She knew she was really out of shape for this type of running but pushed forward.

Other things were making it hard on her. At any moment her breasts threatened to pop out and the pain of her sore ass grew with each swat. But besides all her problems, she was still making great time. Only two laps left and she still had 3 1/2 minutes left.

During the third lap poor Simons was really getting winded. She had to put her tits back in the top 3 times already and she was getting tired of constantly pushing down her skirt. By the time she finished lap 3, there were only 40 seconds left.

When Trish announced the time, a great panic went threw the coach. She so desperately wanted to make it. She wanted so badly to be Trish's little white cheerleader.

She dug down deep and found the energy she never knew she had as she ran with all her might. Freeing her mind of all distractions she let go of her skirt and top and ran like the wind. Within moments both of her big tits had completely popped out and were flopping around like mad as her skirt hiked up to her lower stomach, completely exposing her ass and pussy.

"25 seconds" Trish yelled. She was halfway through. The pain of her flopping tits and her exposed crotch were pushed aside as all that mattered was finishing the race.

"15 seconds" Almost there.

"10 seconds" Just rounding the last corner"

She could hear all the girls chanting

"8...7...6...5...4...3...2.."

The coach fell over the finish line and collapsed into a heap of exposed flesh. She lay exhausted on the ground heaving like an animal. Her large breasts exposed, rising and falling with each heavy breath. Her cheerleading skirt high above her waist baring her cunt to all her giggling black cheerleaders.

Trish stood over her naked, sweaty, former mentor: "Congratulations Coach, your on the squad. See you at practice tomorrow."

End of Chapter 1. To be continued...

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This work is copyright (c) 2002 by Phoenix Arrow. You may download and keep copies for your personal use as long as the author's byline and e-mail address and this paragraph remain on the copies. Please do not post this story to any web site without permission from the author. All other rights reserved. No alteration of the contents is permitted.