Jessica's New Life Ch. 10

The DJ moved beside her and began to casually adjust the console in front of him. "Hold on," he shouted, "here we go."

He'd played mainly contemporary hip-hop and rap. The cuts each had their own style and tempo but the transitions were easy. This one took skill to make the play seamless. He waited as the music eased towards a lull and then just as it seemed doomed to stop he hit the transition. He looked at the woman beside him and smiled - now the show would really start.

The huge speakers boomed out two bass notes that made the whole building shake. Then silence for a half-second before the whole crowd roared. Fists pumped into the air, women yelled, men closed in on the little knot of dancing white girls. It was what they'd been waiting for, it was Masta Playa, it was their anthem.

The same two notes again, another second's pause and then the beat hit them. It was bass-heavy and old-school and it was so loud it seemed to vibrate through their bodies.

It was really only five or six short musical themes intertwined and repeated but Romeo the DJ knew that the simplicity was most of the hook. Your body just wanted to follow that rhythmn and express each changing note. He'd heard it 1000 times or more and even he couldn't help swaying and moving in response to it. He noticed Jessica was really getting into it - it was pretty fresh for her he guessed. She was making some fine shapes and had her hands in the air. That was Masta Playa's genius - just like the song you were drawn in, seduced and before you knew it...

On the big screen the video was now playing. Masta Playa himself was on the huge screen - meeting and then dancing with a super-model hot white girl. The video showed her seduction and finally the two in a sex scene.

Jessica was dancing in the DJ booth with Romeo's hands on her hips. Their sinuous movements matched each other perfectly.

The music had began at a steady tempo but slowly, almost imperceptibly, grew faster. Now, a new beat crept in, insistent and probing. The music kicked up another notch. On the second big screen Jessica's friends were all dancing, their movements matching the faster tempo of the music. Unnoticed, Trey had signalled to his two friends and they had eased back. Now Emily, Maddy and Kathryn were as exposed to the attentions of the crowd as the other girls had been. The distance that separated them from the eyes and bodies of the men surrounding them closed rapidly.

Tammi was already barely visible on the big screen. She had been manoeuvred until her back was against a supporting pillar in the club. Her lips were locked with those of a Black stranger and her eyes widened briefly as she felt his hand push up her skirt and finger her through her thin panties. She never stopped moving to the beat and soon her eyes closed as she gave herself to the moment and the man who was trying to claim her.

Megan was suddenly hauled off her feet by one of the men dancing with her and held beneath her armpits. She squealed as her captor's friend ducked so that her legs could drape over his shoulders. He straightened and she saw his dark brown eyes twinkling with anticipation as his hand hooked her panties down and his head moved in between her legs. Her second surprised squeal was cut off as a black mouth met hers and a tongue explored her mouth.

Krista and Caitlin had basically been dancing with each other - they had been almost

over-whelmed by the atmosphere of the club. They felt far too intimidated to choose dancing with any one of the many Black men who'd shown interest. It was crystal clear what signal such a choice would have given. Now ten men were packed round them and as the group danced they felt hands on them. Krista was a petite-girl with shoulder-length straw-blonde hair. She had crisply defined features and a complexion almost as pale as her Irish-American friend's. Now she felt her skirt raised and tucked into the back of her thong. Rough Black hands found her tight white buttocks and began to maul them hard. Her eyes opened wide from the almost trance-state she had reached and she saw Caitlin looking back at her. A man more impatient than the rest had pushed behind Caitlin and with one yank had pulled her blouse out from her skirt. Then a Black arm had made it's way inside from behind and unhooked her bra. Once that obstruction had fallen to the floor the man had both arms free to move round her slim form and up to her firm young breasts. Caitlin gasped with her mouth open as the skilled fingers found her nipples.

Just as Krista registered what was happening to her friend she felt her own shirt being pulled away from her skirt. She knew what would come next but the music kept booming out its insistent beat and her petite frame kept moving to its rhythmn. As strong supple fingers began their exploration of her already erect nipples the young white girl felt pressure behind her and a voice smoothly whispered into her delicate pale ear. "Make out with your friend, baby, make our cocks hard for you."

Still moving to the beat Krista surrendered to the pressure from behind and moved up to Caitlin. Their mouths met and their tongues entwined. The Black men around them pushed even closer and hands were all over their bodies now. The dance continued but now slowly, ever so slowly, the men were guiding the group back toward the far corner. Antwan only allowed so much on the public dance-floor but everyone knew that in that corner there was a door to the back rooms and ANYTHING went back there. Slowly, step by step, the men inched towards their goal and the girls towards their destiny.

Romeo's mouth was at Jessica's neck, kissing and sucking the tender pink skin. His hand hadn't met any panties to offer token resistance. Once under her skirt it had found bare white pussy. His fingers explored and he rejoiced at how wet she was. The bitch might look all Barnaby Woods fine but she was down to fuck like any little slut from the Anacostia projects.

Almost a siren sound rang out over the driving beat and now, for the first time, the instrumental became a song. A song in the style of old tribal Africa, call and response, delivered by Masta Playa himself. If this truly was the devil's music, as so many had claimed so often, then it was time for that old trickster to show his hand.

The video image changed to the same picture-perfect white girl with a small glass pipe in her hand. Masta Playa's Black hand held a lighter flame to the bottom of the bowl and the young woman moved forward until her beautiful lips were almost touching the pipe.

"SUCK IT UP, SUCK IT UP."

Boomed out the voice of Masta Playa.

"SUCK IT UP, SUCK IT UP."

Now two thousand voices in the club joined the Masta's chanted refrain. The voices resounded round the huge dance-floor and hundreds of fists punched the air with every repetition. The other lyrics might sometimes break through in the aural onslaught but it was overwhelmingly the beat and the chant that resonated through the minds and souls of the listeners.

And all the time that beat kept getting faster and faster, it was almost frantic now. The movements of the dancers were becoming more laboured and jerky, fatigue barely offset by the adrenalin coursing through their veins.

On the big screen the perfectly made-up lips of the woman met the glass meth-pipe and drew the smoke into their owner's lungs. Masta Playa kissed her and whispered into her ear - her eyes widened and her breath grew shallower as the first traces of the hit seemed to reveal themselves.

The four college girls were half-way to the back-room door now. Carried along by the power of the music and the sensations coursing through their bodies. Four pairs of ripped and discarded panties lay to mark the route that the dancing groups had taken. The mouths and fingers of Black men explored the buttocks, tits and pussies of the young white students. Once through that door the men wouldn't be settling for just using their mouths and fingers.

Emma, Maddy and Kathryn were a little further back but their men were more insistent. They weren't being gently guided - they were almost being pushed the way that their new friends had already travelled. As the music blasted out and the men's hands roamed all over them the girls danced on in sensory overload and every step took them closer to the back rooms.

SUCK IT UP, SUCK IT UP,

Got your man to please,

SUCK IT UP, SUCK IT UP,

Get down on your knees.

Jessica felt the hand of Romeo on her shoulder. She glanced down and saw he had pulled his cock out of his pants. It was average-sized but, what was always more important to her, it was Black and it was hard. She dropped straight down and began a frantic blow-job in time to the beat. Romeo leaned across and touched a button on his consul. The moving images of the club on the big-screen over the doors to the back-room were instantly replaced by the huge image of Jessica literally worshipping a hard Black cock. She gave frantic head until she pulled back and started tonguing the end of the cock. A Black hand appeared and hooked its fingers into her auburn hair before pushing Jessica's mouth back down onto the ebony shaft. She again began the rapid head movements as she worked to give him pleasure.

On the other screen the woman was asking for the glass pipe but Masta Playa held it up just out of her reach. The scene changed to the girl, still beautiful but now dressed as a cheap hooker and standing on a street corner smoking. She looked around her as if waiting for something. A car with three heavily-tattooed Black men in typical street-gang clothing pulled up and the men beckoned to the girl. She walked across and leaned into the car. After a few seconds talk the car door opened and she got in. The scene cut to Masta Playa seated in a big throne-like chair and counting out thousand-dollar bills.

The slight change in lighting on the big screen by the back-rooms had attracted the attention of everyone facing that way. Seven white girls looked up and saw Jessica, their friend and/or role-model, on her knees and lavishing attention on a hard Black dick. She pushed forward until her nose was buried in the man's chest. His hand held her then until she finally lurched back trailing thick streamers of saliva from her mouth to the head of his cock. She gulped in breath for a second and then was back frantically bobbing her head on what, for the moment, seemed the sole reason for her existence - that hard Black cock.

Emily saw her friend on the screen and reacted by raising her hands towards the roof and screaming, "YEESSSS." The second her arms were raised Black hands roughly yanked down her skirt and pushed her away from the other girls. Emily stepped forwards towards the wall, a section now emptied by the Black girls previously stood there. A towering Black man with a scar across one cheek followed her with his hand in the small of her back. The other men held back a little - the alpha-male had asserted his dominance and they were ready to wait their turn.

On the screen Masta Playa was with a second girl, a beautiful blue-eyed girl with her long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. The lyrics had simply become a single call-and-refrain which sounded out over the club and repeated again and again. The club-goers knew the drill and the men shouted the call while a thousand female voices gave the refrain.

SUCK IT UP, SUCK IT UP

It's all you good fo'.

SUCK IT UP, SUCK IT UP

You dirty white Ho.

The last line was deafening, a thousand female voices raised as one, almost a snarl loaded with contempt and anger and rage.

"YOU DIRTY WHITE HO."

The Black girls were watching in person or on the screen. The sistahood's blood was up and they wanted these little white sluts who'd dared trespass on their territory to pay the price. For every time a white girl had disrespected them, for every time an ugly white boy had thought he could have them, for every time they had been cheated of a fair deal in life. They wanted someone to pay and tonight that someone was going to be these seven white sluts. They were going to pay on their backs with their legs spread in the filthy back-room of a club.

"IT'S ALL YOU GOOD FO'."

Romeo's hand pulled Jessica's hair hard forcing her onto his cock. His cum shot straight into the back of her throat but she fought not to gag and spit. After the first two spurts the rest of his load landed on her tongue and his hand relaxed. She kneeled before him and opened her mouth fully to show his cum pooled on her tongue. Then she closed her mouth and swallowed.

"YOU DIRTY WHITE HO."

On the screen the second tale was told in five-second scenes as frantic as the thumping beat. Seduction - sexual conquest - the meth pipe - denial - the white girl turned out. Why linger over it - everyone knew how that story always went.

The door to the back room was pushed open and as they were hurriedly shoved toward it the college girls all saw what lay within. A big space used for storage. Chairs, equipment, hoardings - but they didn't really notice any of that. All they could see were the old mattresses laid out to cover half of the floor. They were dirty and ragged and even from there the girls could see stains. They realised in that moment that all this had happened many times before.

"IT'S ALL YOU GOOD FO'."

Emily finally reached the wall and braced herself against it with her hands held high. A big foot moved between hers and kicked her legs further apart. A knife flashed and cut the string of her tiny thong. The sodden material reluctantly parted from her dripping pussy. Shit, thought Emily, that thong had been her favourite - but perhaps that's what you got for breaking the BMW rules. Emily knew what was coming next. She stared at the wall and stood as tall as she could, bending forward a bit to allow him an easier entry. She felt a strong hand grip her shoulder and hold her in place. She felt his other arm behind her. He was pulling his track-suit bottoms down, pulling out his big hard Black dick and then lining it up to claim her pussy as his. It could only be seconds now...

"YOU DIRTY WHITE HO."

Masta Playa was on the screen. This time he was with a redheaded girl with exquisite facial features and a complexion of the finest porcelain. The girl nuzzled against Masta Playa and he gently smoothed her hair with one hand. As he did so he reached with his other hand onto the shelf behind him and grasped the small glass pipe. He looked into the camera with a smile and nodded his satisfaction.

"SUCK IT UP, SUCK IT UP,

IT'S ALL YOU GOOD FO'.

SUCK IT UP, SUCK IT UP,

YOU DIRTY WHITE HO."

The music ended and the lights which had slowly been dipping over the last fifteen minutes came back to their normal level.

The spell was broken. Jessica tasted the residue of the semen in her mouth and stumbled to her feet. Romeo had seen a signal from Antwan and leaned into his mike to announce the club was closing for the night. Meantime, he was playing a last song for any romantic types still with the energy to slow dance. Hos were hos but he had a club to DJ.

Jess was hardly out of the booth when she met a smiling Antwan. Suddenly she thought of the girls. God, what had happened to the girls!

Saved - or were they?

As the music stopped the four door-staff stepped assuredly in front of the entrance to the back-room

"Fuck, man, these hos need it, feel this pussy - it's dripping," said a man with almost desperate need in his voice.

"You know the rules - no admittance to the back rooms after the closure call. You left it too late gentlemen, have to be quicker next time. Now let these girls go so they can fetch up their clothes."

There was grumbling and frustration but the energising pulse of the music was gone and the men were disorganised while Antwan's doormen were very large and very experienced in handling a crowd.

"My god," said Krista, "that was intense. Do you think they would've..."

"Would have depended on you," said a doorman who seemed about three times Krista's size, "that's why we're stationed here. Any girl don't look willing and we step in and break some arms."

Six white college girls looked at him in awe.

His intimidatingly ugly face cracked into what might have been a smile. "Only thing is I seen lots of you taken through that door but I only ever had to step in twice. If a girl really don't want to go in there then our regulars know better than to force them, always another fish in the sea even if they have to wait till next time. Better than eating hospital food."

"But we were being taken in there..."

"I didn't notice much complaining - but I was keeping my eyes open. I guess you might have changed your mind. Anyways maybe you got lucky. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred there's white girls here who have been before and know the score when that song plays. Then they lead the way and you white girls would have got a big Black cock in you before the vocals started. The first of your big Black cocks anyway." He nodded impressively.

Six young college girls - each with their own hopes and dreams, each with their own thoughts and opinions, each dreading what they might have done if they'd gone through that door in time. Each knew that it was unthinkable that they'd have allowed a gang of Black strangers to run a train on them. But each also secretly knew just how wet their pussies were and just how they had felt when those doormen had appeared. Relief, salvation, jubilation - that's what they should have felt. Could what they have felt really have been ... disappointment?

Jessica arrived and clucked around the girls like a mother hen. Her age was more 'elder sister' but she felt responsible, especially for her two placements. She looked at the doormen and thanked Antwan.

"Its as well that I closed ten minutes early," revealed the club owner, "maybe I'm not such a bastard as you think I am."

"No, I never felt that!" she rushed up and kissed him on the mouth, "I owe you one big-time."

"You do," he acknowledged, "and rest assured that I WILL collect." He spoke to the six college girls, "Next time come to our zebra night, it's every Wednesday. Admission free for white girls of a certain standard, which you all most certainly are. Get you all the action you can handle but..." he turned to go back to his office, "...there's one song that most definitely ain't on the playlist those nights."

Antwan thought to himself as he walked back to his office. He felt bad - cock-blocking his regular patrons was not in his usual line of business. On the other hand he knew that Taylor was taking a special interest in Jessica, shit, to be honest he took a 'special interest' in that little auburn-haired whore himself. He had an idea she had depths of sluthood they hadn't come near fathoming yet. As to those other girls - if they hung with sweet Jess then he had an idea at least some of them would soon be following her in that same delicious descent into depravity. Antwan's annoyance soon dissipated and he was smiling by the time he reached his office and put in a call to Taylor.

The girls had collected their surviving clothing and the doorman began getting them ready to leave. Suddenly Jess went pale. "Where's Emily?"

"The little blonde piece?" said the doorman, "I lost sight of her when I came to close the back room. Anyway, there was no doubting what SHE came here for and last I saw she was about to get it."

***

Just as the music stopped Daquan had lined his mercilessly hard nine-inches of big Black cock up with the invitingly wet entrance of Emily's prettily shaved white pussy. He hesitated to savour the moment but as he did so a big Black arm was pushed across his chest. He saw Trey. That wasn't enough to stop a man like Daquan getting his dick wet but two other guys grabbed his arms and held him back from the attempt. He spent a long moment contemplating fighting it out but against three men who looked like they'd been around the block it didn't show good odds. No, even this pussy wasn't worth that.