Dixie Girl: Laundry Day

Dixie Girl - Laundry Day

Author's Note: this is an older story originally published elsewhere. It has been modified in accordance with site policy. No characters appearing in this work are under the age of eighteen. Note that this is a raceplay-focused story, featuring a character who trades in neo-Confederate imagery; that may not be something everyone is looking for in their smut so just providing a heads-up in advance.

The little laundromat was deep in the depths of the student ghetto, about a block from Sorority Row. A narrow and deep brick building, it featured a double row of washing machines down the center and dryers along both walls, making two aisles.

A tall lanky black boy stalked down first one deserted aisle then the other. As he passed each still dryer in turn his face slowly darkened with fury. Every dryer was full, silent, and unattended. Every last one was piled from top to bottom with waiting female clothing. Little skirts, blouses, bras, and panties peeked out at him through the window of each and every machine... and yet not a single nubile body was in sight to open and claim any of them. As he reached the end of the second row, the bag holding his own soaking wet laundry hanging heavy from his shoulder, Python stopped, turned and swore viciously.

There was not a single empty machine in the entire building. Every last one of them was filled up to the brim with skimpy frilly clothing, and not a single one of their pretty owners was in sight.

It was his own fault for trying to do his laundry in the middle of Sorority Row on a Friday night, of course. But that didn't make his long, muscular arms tremble with any less rage.

"Fuck this pussy-ass shit," he said, at last.

Deliberately walking up to the machine with the skimpiest panties and the largest-cupped bras of all peeking out at him through its window, he jerked the door open. Yanking over a wheeled laundry cart, he started hauling out fistfuls of silken underthings and tiny shorts down into the waiting bin. Then, halfway through emptying out the machine, Python suddenly stiffened and froze. Hidden amid a pile of shorts and bras, something had caught his eye. He pulled a pair of pastel-colored running shorts aside to expose a tiny yet distinctive skirt. It looked like a pleated cheerleader skirt... save that it didn't match any of the cheerleader teams in the area. And Python should know, as he had a nearly complete collection of them on his bedroom wall.

This skirt, as he held it up, had a pattern of two red pleats followed by a blue one, the blue pleat bearing white stars. The space between red and blue was white. As he let it dangle from his night-dark fingers, it stirred some preternatural memory in him.

Then, looking back down, he spotted something else. He let the skirt drop. His hand dove back down, into the space between underneath a huge-cupped satin bra and a frilly lace chemise.

His dark hand rose back up... with a tiny scoop-front panty dangling from his extended finger. Printed upon it, as it dangled daintily before his dark face, in soft pastels, was the Confederate Flag. Slowly, Python's eyes widened.

"Well, all be damned," he said. And, closing his hand, ran his fingers over the soft surface of the infamously-decorated panty, with relish.

Holding her empty laundry bag lightly in her fist, Clarabelle Weiss hummed a cheerful tune as she approached the laundromat. As she got close she turned around and bumped the door open with her taut yet well-rounded ass. The door jangled loudly as her wiggling, short-denim-skirt-clad ass pushed through. Having cleared the way, Clarabelle bounced through. Whirling around a pillar at the end of the row of machines, she turned to face her waiting dryer. Then, mouth dropping open in shock, she skidded to a halt.

The door to her machine was open, and it was empty. Her clothes and underthings lay heaped carelessly upon a cart, before it. A scuzzy-looking black boy stood over the pile and, though his back was to her, she seemed to have caught him in the very midst of pawing through her delicate under-things.

"Hey! You! Creep!" Clarabelle snapped. Her superheroine sidekick instincts kicked in in moments. For though she appeared to be just a normal girl, Clarabelle came from a long line of superheroes, including her stalwart mentor, and big sister, the mighty Rebel Belle. Even though she was out of costume, wearing only a tiny jean skirt and pastel yellow spaghetti-strap top, the eighteen-year-old blonde spread her long muscular legs wide, put her hands upon her hips, and thrust out her considerable rack, as she lifted her chin boldly. "Those are mine!" she declared. "Get your hands off them you low-class pervert!"

Not saying anything, Python slowly turned and faced her. He had a huge grin on his lips... and her famous Dixie Girl panties dangling from his fingertips. Clarabelle gasped. Her eyes darted briefly to the cart again, and spotted at last her trademark skirt and her Confederate Flag shell vest laid out atop the rest of the laundry. The only thing missing was the glowing Shard of Virtue that, when inserted into the center of the vest, would have given her her powers. Clarabelle habitually kept it in her purse when in civilian identity - but said purse was currently sitting back in her dorm room.

"H-hey!" she whimpered, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Those are mine!"

"Finders keepers, bitch," Python purred. He wiggled his finger back and forth, making her little panty sway tauntingly before her lovely, horrified gaze.

"You... you can't do that!" Clarabelle gasped, staring in horror at her own underwear. "It's illegal!"

Lifting his free hand, Python pointed up at the wall, where a large sign had been posted. 'Do Not Leave Machines Unattended!' it read in huge letters, and below that in smaller letters, 'Uncollected Loads Are Forfeit.'

Dixie Girl gaped upwards, her jaw dropping in horror. It was hardly federal case law. But it was still enough to deflate her sense of righteous-indignation, to be replaced by a creeping, guilty dread. Gulping, she turned her eyes back to him and squirmed. Without her jewel, she knew, her chances of defeating such a tall and muscular boy were far from certain. And, she realized with a sickened gulp, she had in any case already blurted out enough to more than confirm her precious secret identity. Even if she beat him up, he would still know who she was.

"Please," Dixie Girl whispered. Bowing her head, she folded her hands nervously behind her short-skirt-clad hips. Forced to be penitent before the leering black pervert, a helpless squirm wiggled through her voluptuous body, making her massive rack shake deliciously for him through her tight, tiny top. "Please, give me back my panties."

"Sure, bitch," he said. "I'll trade 'em to you... if you give me a blowjob first."

Clarabelle's gorgeous blue eyes went wide as saucers. "You... you can't be serious!!!" she said, shocked.

Python shrugged, and pulled a fancy smartphone out of his pocket. It was stolen, not that she knew that. "Your call bitch," he said, as he started to dial. "Maybe you can blow the press instead, after I call them and..."

"NO!" Clarabelle moaned. She surged forward slightly, reaching out a plaintive hand to dissuade him. "Please! Don't!"

Stopping on the last number, Python glanced up at her. His finger hovered over it, waiting.

"Oh, Goddess!" Dixie Girl cried. Lurching backwards, she put both hands upon the top of a running machine and gasped in horror. Her body squirmed nervously back against the rumbling surface, her cute little sneaker-clad feet rubbing and fidgeting beneath her tiny skirt. Her breath came deep and fast, making her ample rack bob beautifully before the waiting, leering, and appreciative thug. Her gorgeous head, gasping, turned first one way then the other and verified with wide blue eyes that they were alone. Then she turned back and looked up into his eyes. Her tongue licked her luscious pink lips, and then her tiny white teeth bit them.

"Oh... okay..." she whispered softly at last. "I... I'll suck your cock." Trembling lightly, one hand leapt up to brush a bit of her golden hair nervously back behind her ear, as a slight blush exploded across her pretty cheeks. "Let's... let's just go to someplace with a public bathroom and..."

"No," Python said. "Right here. Right now!" Without another word, he jerked open his athletic pants and let a massive dick plop out.

Clarabelle's jaw dropped and her eyes went wide as dinner plates as she watched over a foot of thick, hard, jet-black cock tumble out of the boy's pants to bob, fully erect, in the air directly before her body. "Oh... oh my God!" she cried, eyes quivering in awe. "Your penis is... is... HUGE!"

"That it is," he said. "Now kneel before it, white bitch."

But, her jaw hanging wide open and quivering, for a moment Dixie Girl could do nothing but stand there and gaze at his huge dick in shock. Getting wider and wider, her eyes slowly traced down its immense length from the base to the tip, both pretty blue orbs completely filled with his veiny black beast. Her breath quickened steadily, making her ample breasts jiggle with ever increasing energy before his commanding scepter.

"What the fuck did I say?" Python said. He took a threatening step forward. "Kneel, you super slut!"

"Okay, o...okay!" Dixie Girl gasped, her voice breathless and her eyes still glued to his big black penis. "I'm sorry!" Her back pressed tight to the rumbling machine behind her, Dixie Girl sank swiftly to her knees before him. Her gaping face tilted upwards as she sank lower and lower, eyes glued to his long cock, until soon it was looming like a massive veiny spaceship above her.

"That's it," Python purred. Lowering her pastel Confederate panties, he slowly dragged them back and forth along the length of his gigantic jet-black penis. Dixie Girl gasped and mewled, biting her lip, as she squirmed in humiliation - but her moist blue eyes proved unable to look away from the sight. "Suck this dick and you get them back," he told her. Putting one hand upon the machine behind her he slowly pushed his hips forward until his penis loomed directly over her. Her face tilted back until she was looking directly up at it. Her eyes crossed and gazed directly at his tip. "Okay," she said, softly. Then she lifted her gorgeous head, spread her lips wide and, gazing down at it in awe, kissed the very tip of his cock.

"Awww, yeah," Python sighed with pleasure. His head rocked back slightly. "That's it, bitch..."

Dixie Girl moaned softly in humiliation... but, lips and tongue quivering, continued pleasuring him. Her pretty head bobbing in and out delicately, like a bird's, she lapped her quivering warm tongue up, down, and all around the thug's massive penis.

As her pretty blonde head bobbed and bobbed around his cock, delivering one little pulse of pleasure after another with her lips, Python looked down and grinned.

"You ever done anything like this before, babe?" he asked her, curious.

Pulling her pretty head back, Clarabelle gazed at his big penis and blushed. "No," she admitted softly. She bowed her head, and gave his big black cock another kiss. "None of my super-boyfriends," she admitted softly, her lips hovering close to his veiny shaft, "have had a penis half as long or as thick as yours..." Then, extending out her tongue, she caressed it up and down his huge beast multiple times, before following that up by laying a series of kisses down his length, from his base to his tip.

Looking down, Python chuckled - his dick pulsing with glee, at having the shapely white beauty worshiping it. "That's nice," he purred down to her, as she gave him another kiss. "But what I meant was, have you ever sucked a criminal's cock before - superheroine?"

Her head darting back, Dixie Girl gasped at this, in shock. Sitting back on her haunches, until her buns were pressed into the rumbling machine behind her, she gazed down the long length of jet-black penis stretching out towards her face, and shivered. Despite all her work getting it nice and wet, it looked impossibly intimidating to take on. She bit her lip, and whimpered.

"No," she finally admitted softly. "I... I've never sucked a criminal's dick..." Under the circumstances, the blushing superheroine neglected to tell him that she had barely sucked any of her previous boyfriends' dicks at all, regarding it as far too demeaning. Or, for that matter, that she had lied by omission when she told him none of them were 'half as big' as he was - when the real answer was closer to a tenth.

Reaching his hand down, Python stroked her Confederate-themed panties back and forth along his cock, as if reminding her what he could do to her if she didn't. Then, he lifted them back up.

"Well, that's a damn shame..." he cooed down to her. "Why don't you fix that, Dixie Slut?"

The Southern superheroine stared at his long dark cock, and swallowed. Then, she slowly nodded.

"Okay," she said.

She took a deep breath. Then, opening her luscious pink lips wide, she leaned forward and wrapped them tenderly around him. Lips still barely past his glans, she started to bob her moaning head up and his cock. She slurped wildly, and her eyes flickered in shock, still barely past his tip. She got only a few inches down before, eyes rolling in their sockets and lips trembling upon his vast bulk, she jerked back off him with a gasp.

"Oh, s-sacred ancestors preserve me..." she moaned softly.

"What's the matter?" Python demanded from high above her, his deep voice rolling down to coil and caress mockingly around her shapely squirming curves. "Is my big black cock too much for the Pride of Southern Womanhood to handle?"

Dixie Girl gasped sharply - staring down the long dark penis that had already thwarted her so in shock. But, moments later, the same audacious vanity he had just teased would permit her only one response.

"Of... of course not," the busty young superheroine declared - her lips hovering right in front of their latest long dark challenger.

Python chuckled. "Prove it," he demanded.

"I... I shall!" the proud Southern champion promptly replied. And bowing her head back in, she once more spread her lips wide and resumed diligently sucking on his cock.

"Awww, yeah..." Python purred. He pressed forward close to the running machine, both hands upon its rumbling surface - one tightly clutching his phone, the other her panties - and, head tilted back and gasping in triumph, he enjoyed the delicious services the proud little heroine was giving him. At his waist her pretty blonde head bobbed delicately, in time to the soft slurps that could barely be heard over the chugging machines, as she gave the evil, thieving criminal pleasure. Occasionally her lips still slipped back off his huge cock but each time, gasping softly, her little tongue promptly gave his massive head a few swirling worshipful caresses before slurping him back down her throat again, each time a little more eagerly than the last.

"Alright, girl," Python cooed, his smirk slowly broadening, after enjoying a few delicious minutes of her slurping service. "This is pretty good... but it's getting clear I need to show you how this is done."

Sliding his huge trainer-clad feet forward, he placed them to either side of her quivering knees, trapping the busty cheerleader tight against the rumbling machine. Then, reaching down, he seized a tight grip on her golden blonde hair.

"You ready, Dixie Bitch?" he asked as, almost oblivious, her pretty little head continued to reverently bob and slurp along his penis. "Cuz I'm about to hollow out that little super-human white throat!"

Trapped against the machine, Dixie Girl's eyes went very wide. Looking up, they found his high above her. Her pretty face staring up into his, over the immense black shaft filling up her lips, she bleated loudly and plaintively at him. She was unable to make a single word, thanks to the immense veiny shaft in the way of her tongue. But what she was trying to communicate was still very clear, just the same.

Looking down into Dixie Girl's wide, desperately-blinking blue eyes, Python simply grinned.

"Sorry, slut," he said. Then, without further ado, he began to thrust down into her.

"MBLMM!" Dixie Girl whimpered. But, with her lips already sealed up tight by the tremendous width of his black shaft, she could not get out a word edgewise. Her pretty eyes blinked in shock, as he forced his way down into her. In short order, Python had slammed her lovely had backwards until it was pressed up against the rumbling machine. Then, taking a tighter grip on her golden hair, he began to thrust into her over and over again, steadily driving deeper down her convulsing throat.

Up high, Python grinned. "Hey, Dixie Slut," he said. Keeping one hand gripped tight in her blonde hair, he lowered the other one, still holding her skimpy Confederate-themed superheroine panties, and dragged them back and forth across her forehead. "Admit it," he advised her. "You and that big-tittied mentor of yours - Rebel Bitch or whatever she calls herself - you two just get off on arresting guys that look like me. Don't you?"

Trapped at his feet, with her lips already wrapped around nearly a foot of his gigantic black cock, Dixie Girl bleated in shock. And yet, the exact same enormous and veiny mouth-plug sealing up her lips ensured she was getting little enough air, she was already starting to get dizzy and woozy. In short order, drunk on his big bitch-asphyxiating cock, she had gotten disoriented enough that her usual careful training started to slip.

"Mmm... hmmm!" the young superheroine softly admitted. She nodded her blonde head, as best she could around the immense and hardened black cock filling up her lips. Then, as if to affirm her statement, she resumed sucking him.

Looking down into her eyes, Python smiled. "Thanks, super-bitch," he said.

Then, wrapping her Confederate panties up into a ball inside his fist, he seized hold of her head with both hands. And, taking a tight grip, he began to slam his mammoth black cock down into the young superheroine's face more powerfully than ever before.

Dixie Girl's eyes, already wide, became like satellite dishes over his huge dark plunging probe. With just his first powerful stroke, Python drove himself down into her all the way until her pretty, full, pink lips were buried in his pubes. By the time he struck bottom, her pupils were like dots in seas of white. Then he pulled out... and slammed back in even more brutally than before.

"Oh, fuck yeah!" Python howled, as, slamming his hips hard, he rammed his huge dick down Dixie Girl's throat again and again and again. "Suck that fucking dick, you law-enforcing super-slut!" he howled.

Releasing her head he put both hands upon the machine and, slamming down deep inside her, his head rocked back in awe as he milked his huge dick back and forth in the deepest depths of her quivering throat. Trapped between his legs, head lifted high and lips spread impossibly wide, stunned Dixie Girl could only take it and like it. Her hands quiveried in shock atop each luscious muscular kneeling leg as her reeling brain tried to decide what to do about the gargantuan criminal invader that seemed to be in the process of both wrecking the interior of her blonde skull, and choking out every ounce of air she could have gotten through her noble throat.

Suddenly, the bell over the door jingled, loudly.

Dixie Girl's eyes, which had grown wide and lost in space over his deep-plunging dick, suddenly focused and shuddered in shock. Before she could do a thing, save for take another deep slow jaw-straining thrust, a pair of light female voices suddenly swirled and giggled through the air all around her... voices Clarabelle instantly recognized as two of her closest friends and fellow cheerleaders. Just earlier that same day, she had spent a significant time dishing over how every other girl in their class was an ugly slut - so the absolute last thing she wanted was for them to catch her giving a strange black boy a blowjob. Her lips, trapped to either side of his huge penis, trembled in fear.