The Janitor who was King Ch. 02

An innocent and sheltered wife and mother goes back into the workforce in teaching in the deep south after both of her children go away to college. Things aren't exactly going as she thought they would.

Please read The Janitor Who Was King to better understand this chapter.

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Cheryl woke up about 4am to the sound of Rob stumbling to bed. She struggled to open her eyes just in time to see him flop, still fully clothed in his suit, onto the bed. She wondered what he had been doing. On top of that, her mouth, jaw, and throat were aching unbearably. Cheryl would have believed that it had just been a bad dream if she didn't suffer the physical aftereffects of the "ceremony."

Her mind just couldn't get the whole day out of her head, even though it happened as if she were in a daze. Starting from the cappuccino and coffees during the school day and the ending with the practice ceremony with some of the school boys, where she sat in the middle of the classroom and they fed her the black peace pipe as she stared up at them. How she was able to fit that thick pipe into her mouth and how it was able to get pushed back into her throat without gagging her still left Cheryl confused.

As the sunlight peeked through the window and sent a ray of light across Cheryl's face, she couldn't help but notice the dryness in her mouth. Whatever had been in the pipe, her current thirst was almost unbearable and she ran to the bathroom for a glass of water. She quickly ran the tap water and filled a glass and put the glass to her lips.

"It is so weird," thought Cheryl, "my mouth feels like it is numb. I almost feel like I've been to the dentist and gotten Novocain." She struggled to keep the first glass of water in her mouth without drooling, but then the second glass was a little easier.

She went back to sleep and fell into a dreamlike state. It seemed as if her mouth was being violated, but she opened her eyes and only saw the greyish dark ceiling alight slightly from a combination of the sun rising and a bit of moonbeam shining in through the window. No one was violating her mouth, and in fact, Rob was still face down in the bed and it smelled as if her vomited and was sleeping through it. Cheryl couldn't stand the smell of the vomit and saw it was almost 6am on the clock so she awoke and headed towards the bathroom.

Cheryl entered the shower and stepped under the water. The water sprayed onto her back first and when she turned towards the jets of water, as the water jets sprayed on her breasts, Cheryl flinched as her breasts seemed incredibly sensitive. She looked down and was shocked to see her nipples were fully extended and quite pinkish red. This was quite confusing for Cheryl.

Toweling off, Cheryl was careful as the sensation from her nipples was still creating discomfort. She was able to get dressed, but even after all this time between the shower and dressing, Cheryl's nipples were still extended. Luckily with the bra, they weren't as visible but they were still somewhat noticeable.

Cheryl went down to the kitchen and prepared a coffee. She went over to the refrigerator and got some milk and poured it in and took a sip. The coffee just didn't taste right. Even though she thought Claude's coffee had made her ill, there was something in the taste that made everything else unsatisfying. So, she left the coffee on the table in case Rob wanted it and got in her car and headed off to school.

Arriving at the school much earlier this morning, the parking lot was nearly empty, but for some reason, like a bee attracted to honey, Cheryl parked her car down by Claude's office. After getting out of her car, she wondered why, because the walk to the front door was much further from here, but passed off the decision as just habit. "Hmmm..." thought Cheryl, "maybe I should move the car closer to the entrance." But, before she could act on that thought, she heard a voice call out to her.

"Mrs. Thomson, there you are," heard Cheryl and she turned to see Claude who continued, "I've got myself a batch of fresh warm cream here for you." Cheryl saw his smile widen with his white teeth contrasted greatly against his coal black face. Cheryl hesitated upon seeing the towering frame of Mr. Johnston reaching out a small cup of cream. "Here," Claude continued, "just take a sip so we have the rest of it for your coffee." As Claude saw Cheryl put the cup to her lips, he added, "It might even be better if you take a small mouthful and hold it in your mouth, so you can get a true taste of dairy."

Cheryl paused putting the glass to her lips to hear Claude's last suggestion. It worried her how she felt the day before, so she was somewhat nervous to try this again, but may be easier today. It was fresh dairy per Claude. Cheryl continued the action of putting the glass to her lips and allowed the rich viscous "cream" fill a portion of her mouth. The "cream" had a consistency of a jam with a swirling thickness in some areas but a salty taste in some parts as well as watery consistency in other parts as she allowed her tongue swish around it in her mouth.

"That is," started Cheryl, "a strange taste for a cream," she said to Claude. "I've never known a salty taste or such texture in a cream I've ever had before." Cheryl looked at the glass puzzledly and then handed it back to Claude.

Claude could barely contain his joy as Cheryl willingly completed the next level of the voodoo spell he was casting on her. He was overjoyed she came to school early but it was almost too early as he had just finished masturbating into the cup with the remainder of Cheryl's hair and lipstick he obtained the previous day. He had quickly mixed and ground the fresh cum with her genetic material to create a physical and chemical bond that could be further exploited if she were to hold the mixture in her mouth before swallowing. Luckily, she had done just that. "Well," thought Claude, "in order to be sure... let's give her one more taste," and Claude's grin grew and he hoped Mrs. Thomson wouldn't see the devilish gleam in his eyes.

"Salty you say???" questioned Claude to Cheryl, "I had worked so hard to improve my livestock's diet to get rid of that salty taste. I was told it was to improve to a smoky taste, before clearing out to normal. Could you try just a little bit more?" Claude laughed, and then continued while giggling, "We farmers here in the south treat our dairy and crops almost like fine wines. Maybe swish it in your mouth like a wine tasting if that might help," he suggested to Cheryl.

Cheryl smiled nervously, as she remembered how she felt the prior day, but trusted this kindly old man and took a small mouthful of the "cream" into her mouth and began to swish it back and forth in her mouth as if she were sampling a wine.

Cheryl heard Claude speak in a deep commanding bass voice as she was unknowingly swishing his cum in her mouth, "Pandan w ap kenbe espèm semenn mwen an nan bouch ou, eple kontwòl m sou ou konplè." [translates to: As you hold my semen in your mouth, my spell of control over you is complete].

A small trancelike state fell over Cheryl. Her entire identity and being felt in stasis as she looked forward at Claude Johnston. He spoke to Cheryl derisively and overbearing, saying, "Se mwen menm Mèt Voodoo houngans, ou pral soumèt nan lòd mwen." [I am a voodoo master, you will submit at my command.] Then, at a snap of Claudie's fingers, he was smiling and asking Cheryl if she noticed the smoky taste in the cream.

The sound of a snap seemed to bring Cheryl back to reality. The muskiness, smokiness in the flavor of the cream, was what was on her mind. "Why yes Claude," stammered Cheryl, "the muskiness added a special smoky flavor to the cream. The first I have ever tasted."

Claude laughed as there was no muskiness or smoky flavor at all, it was just his cum. He was happy at Cheryl's progression.

"Well Mrs. Thomson," said Claude politely, "I hope you have a good day in class," and he started to turn away, but then quickly turned back, "oh my, Mrs. Thomson, where are my manners? Here is your coffee," and he handed Cheryl one of the cups of coffee in his hand.

"Why thank you Claude," said Cheryl, starting to feel a little more like herself and less in the trance. She looked at the coffee and noticed it was still black. "Could I have some of the cream?" she asked Claude.

Claude smiles and lifted the cup of cum to her coffee mug and began to pour, "Say when..." he commented.

For some reason, Cheryl let him pour quite a bit into her coffee before saying, "When," to which Claude smiled and added, "I'm going to have to get to pumping to keep a supply of cream here for you Ms. Thomson."

Cheryl, assuming Claude meant pumping the cows, didn't think anything of it and turned towards her class to begin walking there. She then dipped her tongue into the top of the coffee and the thick layer of "cream." "What is it about this taste which is sooooo good?" thought Cheryl.

As Cheryl walked down the hallway towards her classroom door, she felt heat emanating from between her legs. Again, a wave of pleasure began pulsing through her body. This was a strange feeling but not as powerful as the prior day and just as she was about to step into her classroom, she heard a voice call out to her.

"Mrs. Thomson??? Mrs. Thomson???"

She looked in the direction from which she heard the voice and saw Mr. White looking at her and nodding when she looked at him as he confirmed he called to her. She turned towards Mr. White and they approached each other and he said, "I'm sorry Mrs. Thomson, I have a favor to ask of you," he stated somewhat apologetically. "Mrs. Long, our school counselor, normally leads group sessions of a confession group, similar to twelve step programs, for the Caucasian female students."

"Why would a school have such a program?" thought Cheryl, but then she asked, "Mr. White, why is it you are requesting me?"

Mr. White got quite serious and professional and replied, "First of all, Mrs. Long is almost finished with her doctorate in psychology, which is why she leads the program. I am a doctor of education, but after me, you have the highest level of education with your Master's degree." He paused a moment and then continued, "You see, the anonymity of this program on an agreed upon level helps the student discuss things difficult for them that I do not think they would disclose to me, and because you are new, I don't think they will feel threatened by you."

Cheryl looked puzzledly at Mr. White and inquired, "But what do they discuss at this, um... meeting?"

Mr. White shrugged his shoulders in a gesture signally he didn't know and replied, "It is supposed to be anonymous, so the students feel free to speak their minds without judgment. Mrs. Long never disclosed the meeting topics of discussion unless students were a danger to themselves or others, which only happened just after the program started about six years ago." And then he stood and waited for Cheryl to answer.

"But this is a lot of responsibility Mr. White. Do you think I can handle it?" Cheryl asked nervously.

Mr. White gave Cheryl a gentle pat on the back and stated, "I'm sure there's no challenge you can't swallow."

"Excuse me?" stated Cheryl nervously and a bit embarrassedly confused.

"I'm speaking of the peace pipe ceremony," explained Mr. White, "I was told you were incredible and were able to swallow the whole challenge. I am amazed at your prowess."

Cheryl thought she detected innuendos in Mr. White's comments, but his facial expression was calm so maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. "Ummm... thank you Mr. White," she replied. "Where is this meeting you want me to chaperone?" asked Cheryl.

"Oh, yes," responded Mr. White, "it is in the conference room near ol' Claude's office. Here, let's walk over there together now."

Cheryl walked with Mr. White down the long corridor filled with lockers in some areas mixed with windows in others. They walked for awhile until they approached a double door to which Mr. White said, "The meeting started already, it is in there," and he pointed towards the doors.

Cheryl heard laughter from inside the room which lightened her heart a bit and then she opened the door. But when the group made up of teenage girls and several adult women saw Cheryl, they instantly hushed up.

Cheryl, sensing they needed an ice breaker, said, "Oh, please continue, I'm taking over for Mrs. Long."

Claude Johnston viewed his video cameras of the school and knew Mr. White was to bring Cheryl Thomson to the meeting, so he turned up the audio. Claude handpicked the group for the meeting today to describe items to pique Mrs. Thomson's curiosity, her temptation, and her inner slut.

To provide background, Claude Johnston's ancestors were voodoo priests and priestesses of the highest order in Haiti. In fact, even though much of the higher magic was lost, Claude travelled on several pilgrimages to Africa, the Far East, Brazil, and the islands of Antigua to gather data and information to recompile much of the lost dark art so he could master it.

And master it Claude did. Most literature says that the dark arts are a matter of fiction, but Claude knows the magic is real. His magic is real. His magic is powerful.

The year is 1853, and the two Haitian slaves sat together among a large group of other slaves doing their evening rituals. The male and female were in love, and knew that if they were going to conceive a child, being slaves, that child would also be a slave. In speaking with their voodoo priestess, she offered to incant a spell invoking spirits to protect them and their child.

The voodoo priestess spoke only partial truths. She wished to invoke a powerful spell channeling Boukman, a voodoo spirit to grant powers to the child. She knew not whether the parents would be safe. And in fact, Boukman's dark spirit channeled the spirits Ayizan, goddess of initiation into sacred truths and head Mambo [voodoo priestess] and Kalfu, the moon god and ruler of the night who is the patron deity of sorcerers, especially those who practice black magic. Both spirits inhabited the bodies to conceive a child.

The slave holders learned of the ceremony and put most attendees to death, but allowed the woman to give birth to her child before she too was executed. In an attempt to erase the connection with the child's heritage, he was given an American name. Since the child was a slave, they gave him the last name of the slaveholder, Johnston. They finally decided on Claude as a first name.

Upon seeing the destruction of that babe Claude's mother and father who were the physical forms begotten of Ayizan and Kalfu, Kalfu the dark god implored justice from his twin brother Legba, the sun god and intermediary between the gods and humanity. For one of the few times in history, the dark god Kalfu and his twin, the god of light and justice, Legba agreed to combine powers to embody in a human, and granted them upon the young babe Claude.

It took Claude until he was eight years old to learn that his true name was Tichef Kalyizan symbolizing his birthright and power.

Cheryl Thomson entered the room and saw a circle of chairs, facing each other as she approached after introducing herself. There were nine females in the room. She noticed three of them were adults, perhaps a few years younger or maybe older than herself. Of the females, two were black, both student age, and the other seven were white. One of the other things that Cheryl noticed was that five of the nine females appeared to be pregnant. Three of the five "pregnant" females were visibly showing and the other two had what appeared to be "baby bulges".

The younger of the African American girls appeared to be quite young, but she spoke as Cheryl entered, "Oh, so now we got some new white missus to be the boss over us," and she glared at Cheryl.

Cheryl was a bit taken aback, but understood that she was new, so she would have to take it slow, and she answered, "I'm Mrs. Thomson. I'm not anyone's boss, but here as a counselor should anyone need it during our discussion today," and she hoped that would suffice to gain everyone's trust. "Now," she continued, "could everyone introduce themselves? I'm sorry that I'm a little late, as Mr. White just told me about this responsibility."

The girl that spoke previously was the first to speak up again, "I'm Jamaya Jones, and this is bullshit! It used to be seven white trash ladies and three sisters, and now Mr. White(y) is throwing in another whitey to keep putting us down," she ranted.

"I'm sorry you feel that way Jamaya," answered Cheryl, "and what grade are you in?"

"Fucking ninth," mumbled Jamaya disgustedly.

Cheryl guided the rest of the females in the room to introduce themselves, but her thoughts remained on Jamaya, so she only half-heard the other introductions. "How can I reach this young woman?" thought Cheryl, "At least she doesn't look pregnant, although I can't assume anything as she might already have a child."

After all the introductions had completed, Cheryl spoke softly, "I'm just here to observe and be an administrative presence. I am not here to interrupt or tattle on anyone, so please continue whatever you were discussing."

The girl named Jennifer, an innocent looking white girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, sighed and spoke panickedly, "I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm three weeks late, and if my parents find out, they will kill me. They have their heart set on me marrying Jason."

Cheryl assumed late was late with her period and from what she could guess, the potential baby wasn't Jason's.

The other African American girl, Lateesha, laughed, "Jason's nickname is toothdick because his dick is the size of a toothpick. Everyone knows that. "

Cheryl wasn't sure about the rules, or whether crosstalk or other feedback was appropriate, but figured she would learn as time progressed. The fact that everyone laughed, except Jennifer, gave her some comfort that the discussion was within the "rules."

Lateesha looked at Cheryl, and commented, "Mrs. Thomson, just so you get an idea of this group, it is a pregnancy support group for the students. And, before you get it into your head, neither Jamaya or me are pregnant, the seven white women here are. The adults are pregnant from men not their husbands and the students aged are just pregnant."

Cheryl looked at Lateesha and answered, "Thank you Lateesha. That is so great of you to offer support and wisdom. This is really a great group."

Lateesha laughed again, this time at Cheryl, and grunted, "Support? Not exactly." Then she looked at Jennifer, and gave a circular glance which was a half-glare at the rest of the girls and women in the room, and spoke harshly, "How and the fuck did you goddamn sluts get pregnant? I told you, the customers HAVE to wear condoms, and that you should first blow them to get their first, most powerful load out of the way, to prevent condom breakage."

Cheryl was shocked. "Did Mr. White know about this? Was Mrs. Long aware of this? Did her ears deceive her? Did Lateesha just imply that she was running a prostitution ring from the school?" Cheryl's eyes grew larger and she nearly choked on her coffee but managed to maintain her silence.

"Jennifer," commanded Lateesha, "explain yourself."

Jennifer stood up, blushing and shy, and first looked at Lateesha and said, "I'm sorry Lateesha. Mr. Lucas swore he had gotten a vasectomy. I tried giving him head, but his black cock was just so thick. I tried licking his balls, and I could tell I should make him cum because they were huge. His cock was almost as thick as my wrist if not more so. I licked around the tip, trying to get him to cum, but finally he told me we just had to fuck."