Chapter 1 - Mrs. Jackson Goes White

Cries of pleasure echoed out from the classroom. Moaning came from a statuesque black woman bent over the desk. Behind her was a powerfully built white man, quickly ramming his lengthy, thick cock into her black pussy. With every thrust of his powerful frame, she cried out for more. Her mind was lit up like a Christmas tree. She never had a white man before, but always dreamed that a white man could make her feel as good as she felt now. Fluids ran down her legs and inner thighs, making a mess of the student's desk. 
 
This was not her student that was eagerly ramming that tight cunt with a generous helping of white meat. It was the new teacher the school hired over the summer. It was hard enough for a ghetto school to get any teachers, let alone a white teacher. But here he was, giving a grade-A lesson on the merits of good staff relations. 
 
A few days earlier 
 
Mr. Knight walked through the halls of the rundown, ghetto school. It was not exactly his first choice for a local full-time position after graduating from school. He wanted to get a job near his home, to give back to the community he was raised in. Politics and a lack of openings kept him from a full-time position, forcing the ambitious guy to seek out experience elsewhere. After some time overseas, he figured he'd have to swallow his pride and work from the dirt. Teaching is teaching after all. 
 
Searching through advertisement after advertisement, and getting shot down from job after job, he finally got a call back from this school. It didn't have a name, just a number. PS 69. Not exactly the least lewd of names. He was told it was a tough crowd. Every student was black. Most were poor. Few teachers stuck around for more than a year, if they were lucky. The vice-principal thought he was mad to accept, and told him straight up that if being called a cracker was the worst he experienced, it would be a good day. 
 
 Knock Knock 
 
 "Excuse me, I'm looking for room 303. I can't seem to find it," Mr. Knight asked. 
 
 Inside the classroom sat a young woman behind a large teacher's desk. Her hair was straightened, lips painted red, and she wore a dress suit that hugged her frame to leave nothing to the imagination. 
 
 "You must be the new guy. I'm Michelle, Michelle Jackson." 
 
 "Knight, Nik Knight. Yeah, I got here early and no one is in the office. Your classroom says 302 but I can't find mine." 
 
 "That is because it is in that corner over there?" she said, pointing to the end of the hallway. "It is in the gymnasium." 
 
 "I was told I'd be teaching history, not physical education," he said, confused. 
 
 "The gym teacher quit a few weeks ago. The principal told us in the staff email you'd be taking that over as well. We also have space issues, and are underfunded. You'll get used to a lot of changes at the last minute. Welcome to Ghetto High, Nik." 
 
 "Uh, yeah, thanks for the welcome. Cool, I'll make do. Shouldn't be too hard to teach two subjects." 
 
 The comment got a laugh out of the woman. 
"Hard enough to teach one in this school. Want my advice? Just survive. Not the most politically correct thing to say but you're in enemy territory, stud. I'd keep lifting those weights if you want some of the more boisterous crowd to give you space." 
 
 She winked at the man and flashed a playful smile. 
 
 "You wouldn't be hitting on me, would you, Michelle?" he asked, smiling back and leaning against the door frame. 
 
 His suit looked like it was painted on, barely housing his tall, muscular frame. A full mane of hair hung over his forehead, swaying side to side with each turn of the skull. That smile had the appeal of a magazine model. 
 
 "Maybe," she replied, coyly. "Not a lot of white guys in this area, if you get my drift and vanilla happens to be my favorite flavor." 
 
 The comment caused the pair to chuckle. 
 
 "Thanks for the complement. Feel free to stop by my room if you're ever in the mood for a vanilla shake." 
 
He winked at her before leaving to find his classroom. 
 
 X 
 
 The gym looked run down. A few banners hung from the rafters, denoting a moderately successful past, but the ceiling tiles looked like they would fall at any moment. Two rooms were adjacent to each other in a corner of the gymnasium. One was a half empty storage room, containing barely enough supplies to run even a basic practice. The other was a cramped office that was renovated into a classroom. It looked weird that there was a personal shower room next to the black board, but the man learned early from working overseas to accept whatever the job threw his way. 
 
 After an hour of lesson planning, he proceeded to the staff room. Fellow faculty walked in at random intervals. Some looked depressed before even the first days of classes; others looked like the shine of their vacation had a day left. Immediately, the room's mood felt depressive. Nik also noticed he wasn't just the only white person there; he was the only non-black person there. 
 
 After some simple pleasantries, it did not take long for the staff to ask the million-dollar question. Why? 
 
 "This is a great opportunity to gain some in-country experience, and help out the community," he told them. 
 
 "So you couldn't get a job at a white school," Mr. Léger, the math teacher said. "Don't worry, we're not here for our health either. We've just become accustomed to the bullshit, collect our paychecks, and leave." 
 
 "Best not to get too worked up about being the great white hope," Mrs. Latrell commented. "Most are going to be in slammer in a year. Just focus on the one or two who haven't sold their books for drugs. No one will think less of you otherwise." 
 
 It became obvious he signed up for something more than he expected. Nik's work colleagues were not exactly the cheerleading; we're all one people, black power type. 
 
 "I heard back from Mark. He is enjoying his new position in Barbados. Lucky guy," Mrs. Latrell said to the group. "If I wasn't married, you better believe I'd be enjoying the beach weather." 
 
 "Let us get this over with quickly, ladies and gentlemen. I'm sure you all have lots of prep to do for next week," a lady spoke out after entering suddenly. 
 
 Nik looked at her and was immediately taken aback. She was as tall as him, and there were obvious toned muscles hidden underneath her conservative suit, as if she moonlighted as a fitness model. Heels clicked rhythmically with each sultry step giving off the vibe her and Michelle were sisters. They both appeared similar in build. 
 
 "I see you're here on time. That is a good sign, Mr. Knight. It is nice to meet you." 
 
 "Likewise," he said smiling. 
 
She looked like an amazon, a particular fetish the man had that was very rare these days. 

“Here is your weekly schedule, everyone. No big changes other than Mr. Knight will be doing double-duty teaching gym, as well as history. There is also a revised disciplinary policy attached to it. One of my goals as the new principal is to reduce the number of police incidents over the long-term. Any gang issues can be sent directly to me. I’ve got no problems kicking them out if it warranted.”

 The meeting was over quickly, and now he sat in the principal's office. 
 
 "Listen, I'm taking a chance on you because I had no other choice. You were the only one who applied for the job. I'm not exactly in a position to reject a qualified teacher. And you can't be so high and mighty to turn down any job if you want to stay local. This is a marriage of convenience." 
 
 "Do you give all the new teachers this speech, Miss Weiss?" 
 
 "Let me be honest. This is a ghetto school, and you're a white guy. It is not the easiest of positions for black teachers. You're going to deal with shit all the time, and I expect you to handle yourself properly." 
 
 "I'll do my best not to disappoint you. Was there anything else you wanted?" 
 
 She shook her head. As he got up to leave, Miss Weiss saw a large outline in his pants. It snaked down his quad muscle, almost to the kneecap. 
 
 "It couldn't be his..." she thought to herself, feeling her legs squeeze together unconsciously. 
 
Her pussy became moist, eager to take that white cock inside its depths. Something in her mind just clicked in place. 
 
 "Enjoy your day," Nik said before leaving the office. 
 
His cock sprang to life long before entering the office. Something about a six-foot amazon type of woman always got his cock hard. To say hentai of Wonder Woman burned up hours of his youth would be an understatement. 
 
 X 
 
 By the end of the day, Nik sorted out his classroom office and got some of his prep done for the following week. Just as he was about to turn off the lights, he could hear the clicking of heels in the gym. Peeking outside the door, Michelle waved at him. She walked slowly, saucy, making each step extenuate her finely crafted form. 
 
 "That vanilla shake offer still available?" she asked seductively. 
 
 "For you? Sure." 
 
 "Good. It's been a long day, and I could definitely use that protein," the hot teacher commented, immediately grabbing Nik's crotch. "I never believed the myth," she cooed in his ear, stroking the thickening, ivory tower. "Besides, white boys know how to treat a woman properly, not like a thug." 
 
 They locked lips as Michelle pushed him against the door frame. Tongues slid over and around each other. Hands groped and caressed their bodies. They both moaned out at the risky situation. It was his first day at the school and immediately he could be fired if caught having sex with a co-worker on school property. The thought only made his cock harder and lust more to put it into action. 
 
 "Do you always put out with all the new guys?" Nik asked between kisses. 
 
 "Shut up and fuck me. I need to be home to my loser husband soon." 
 
 Pushing Nik away, Michelle backed up and slowly, teasingly, unbuttoned her jacket. Her chocolate tits were barely constrained by her blouse. Without waiting, Nik dived in, groping and kissing the tops of the mounds. Pulling them out he found she was not wearing a bra. Bullet hard nipples were feasted on, sucked, bitten, and left stained with drool. 
 
 "Dine on them. Soon I'll have them wrapped around your thick, white cock. Nothing turns me on more than some vanilla in my swirl. Just keep this between us and I'll let you use me any time you want." 
 
 The last comment caught Nik off guard. Looking up, Michelle just pushed him back into her cleavage. 
 
 "Don't ask or look a gift horse in the mouth." 
 
 Her finely manicured hands unzipped his pants. Slowly, she pulled out the giant cock and stroked it to full length. It was the biggest she ever experienced, ever seen, and she didn't know cocks could be this big. Not wasting any time, kneecaps touched the cold floor. Rhythmically, the black school teacher bobbed and slurped all over the thick piece of manmeat in front of her. 
 
 Slurp...Glug...Glug...Slurp...Slurp... 
 
 Drool ran thick across the veiny schlong. Her dark skin gave a nice contrast to the ivory whiteness she was sucking on. Nik put a firm hand on the back of her head and pushed. Each inch tried to make the woman gag, cough up and puke up her lunch. It was too much, too fast for her to take. The way her throat reacted surprised him. He was hung like a horse but he thought Michelle would be able to suck at least half easily. 
 
 "I love it rough. Don't worry. Make me gag," she blurted out in lust, going back to gag herself on the fat cock. 
 
 Glug...Glug...Glug...SSSLLLUUURRRPPPP! 
 
 For ten minutes Nik enjoyed the sloppy blowjob. There was a growing puddle on the floor of all the fluids that Michelle had coughed up and drooled. Their eyes never parted from each other. The sight was erotic by how easily she remained balanced on high heels, ass to the floor. Her panties were soaked, but her own juices still escaped to mix with the floor drool. 
 
 "Usually it takes a minute for my husband to cum from a handjob and then he turns over and sleeps. He is not even a quarter big as you are, Nik. They must breed you good up north." 
 
 "Maybe, or maybe I'm just holding myself back so I can whitewash you, and fill your womb full of superior sperm." 
 
 "I like how you talk dirty to me, lover boy," Michelle lustily said back. 
 
 Standing up, she bent against the wall and pulled down her dress pants. Her pose was erotic; some might say pornographic, as smooth, ebony skin shone under the light. Red panties barely contained the firm ass, and the crotch was paper thin. Cunt lips glistened as it became apparent the slutty high school teacher had an orgasm by only giving a dirty blowjob. 
 
 Not needing any more encouragement, Nik sauntered over and gave that athletic ass a hard smack. Cooing replied back. 
 
 SMACK! 
 
 Another hard one connected, priming the booty for his mighty cock. Both buns couldn't contain the size, as he slowly slid it between them. The excitement was too much to bear. Michelle had an exceptionally athletic body as well, like a fitness model. Nothing turned the man on more. Firm, fitness booty was superior to flabby, ghetto booty. 
 
 "Is this what you were thinking the entire staff meeting? You wanted my white cock inside that black cunt of yours? You wanted to be whited, bred, and used like a slave?" 
 
 Nik got visceral with his words, now gripping Michelle tightly by the hair. Their cheeks rubbed against the other roughly. Her back arched, only causing her to coo and purr. 
 
 "Talk dirty to me like that. You're going to have all the girls wanting you after class. I'm just marking my territory first," she spoke out lustily. 
 
 "You want me to call you it, don't you?" he asked, teasing her with his cock still hot-dogging that luscious, chocolate ass. 
 
The pace was maddening to her. Teeth bit her lip seductively, panted moans escaped her lips, and she could only grind her ass back into him. 
 
 "Yes, call me a negress. I just want to be used and bred by a strong, white bull. I'm tired of living a lie." 
 
 To the uninformed, it would seem like the situation escalated quickly, from 0 to 60. But in her lust addled mind, Michelle had needed this for years. 
 
 "Oh gawd!" she screamed out, not even trying to be quiet. 
 
 The thick, ivory tower slammed deep into her cunt, and got stuck. She was not accustomed to something that big or thick. 
 
 "Again, slam it in there again, please Massa. Make your negress purr for you," she told him, nails digging into the wall. 
 
 Over and over again, Nik did not hold back. He slammed his cock into her tight cunt as hard as he could until the entire length was in to the hilt. Still leaning forward, cheek to cheek, he lewdly licked and kissed the side of her lips. Fingers gripped her hair so tight that she moaned from the pain of roots pulling out. 
 
 "I'm going to make you my white owned bitch...White...Owned...Bitch...do you understand me, Michelle?" he whispered in her ear between grunts. 
 
 It was calm, assertive in tone, and it activated something in her brain. More juices dripped out of her cunt as another orgasm rocketed from the words. Three simple words created one of the best orgasms ever experienced. Better than anything her black husband ever gave her which was zero. 
 
 "Yes, Massa. I'm your white owned bitch. I'll do anything you say, just treat me like this." 
 
 For the next half an hour, Nik fucked her like a slave. Her screams of pleasure echoed in the supposedly deserted gymnasium. What they didn't hear was the clicking of heels walking out, and a large, wet puddle within ear shot of their fucking. 
 
 "Thanks for the note during the meeting," Nik said, wiping his cum soaked cock clean with her long locks. "If I didn't get it I would have thought this was some kind of setup to get me fired." 
 
 Michelle looked up at him with love twinkling in her eyes, and a mischievous smile. 
 
 "Anytime, Massa. I was worried you would turn me down. You're the first white boy to accept my invitation. I'm happy to have finally met a real man," she told him, running a long, tender finger along his muscular leg. "One not afraid of the PC police, or infected with white guilt." 
 
 "But you're married." 
 
 "Just some limp dick, black boy who doesn't know how to treat a woman right. This body is too good for blacks. I don't spend hours at the gym for nothing." 
 
 She struck a pose in her half-naked state. Toned muscles glistened under the lights from sweat, and firmly, popping abs screamed out to be touched, caressed and kissed. That ass was so firm that a dime could bounce off it, and never for one day looked like it came out of a ghetto. She looked like a shit-kicker Dominatrix, but it was just a look. It turned her on to feel under the thumb of a powerful man, that all her hard gym work meant nothing and she was just a bitch. 
 
 "Why marry him, or better yet, stay married?" Nik asked, curious, as he got dressed. 
 
 "Parents, young love, stupidity, money. Don't buy into the myth." She separated her thumb and fore finger apart to a small degree. 
 
The sign got a laugh out of both of them. 
 
 "Size whore," he joked, adjusting his tie. 
 
Except for the smell of sex, and some messed up hair, he looked as presentable as ever. 
 
 "Not really. I just got lucky with you." Adjusting her pants and jacket, a few wet stains could be seen to reveal their intense love making. "I want to be controlled. He wants me to control him. Besides, what black girl doesn't want a white man to own her, Massa?" She purred when saying the word Massa, and winked at him. 
 
It made her feel alive, free, to say such a racially charged word. But what is freedom if a person is not allowed to live the life they choose to live of their own free will? 
 
 "I know what I am, and how people see me. I'm an intimidating bitch that should be in black boots with a whip. But growing up I watched so many movies where the boss had a top lieutenant, the one that got shit done. It wasn't sexually but I could feel the boss knew without that lieutenant he'd be nowhere. I guess I want to feel special to someone worthy, that I've given myself up to that boss who'll look at me and we'll instantly know I'm needed badly." Michelle brushed aside her hair tentatively, out of character from the bitch breaker persona she put on. 
 
 "Some people will see this as me jumping the gun. We just met. You could put me in a freezer tomorrow. Yet I've got this feeling about you you're the one I'd be happy with. This isn't the first time I've tried to find a master. They were all too passive, too submissive, and already too tainted with white guilt to give me what I need. I don't want someone to say those words to me, use me, treat me like a slave because it'll make me happy. I want that person to do it because it'll make him happy, that it is natural and real." 
 
 Nik grabbed her suddenly by the waist, kissing her passionately. Their lips and tongues locked for another long embrace. 
 
 "My rules, understood, negress?" 
 
 Michelle smiled and nodded. Cunt juices still leaked down those powerful thighs. Just like the principal, Michelle looked like an amazon. A bit shorter, but he could feel those powerful legs help that firm ass slam back into his cock. Every thrust felt like the shaft would break off inside. He never experienced sex like that before. 
 
 "Tell hubby you've got to work late tomorrow. We're going shopping after school. You need something special, that is, unless you're not in complete control of the husband?" 
 
 "We've never actually fucked...ever. I didn't even have to give the headache excuse. Too busy with his posh job. I could walk through the door naked and he wouldn't notice...or with cum in my hair. Actually, one day I was too busy using my massive white dildo to get off to some raunchy porn, without headphones, and he was in the house. I didn't notice, he never said anything, not even about when the girl was calling herself a nigger for the amusement of the men." 

Nik patted Michelle on the ass, and lead her out of the gym classroom so they could go home.

 X 
 
 The following day, the two lovebirds arrived at the staff meeting moments apart. Michelle sat down gracefully, keeping her legs together. A fresh batch of white baby batter was leaking out of her gaped cunt. The proud woman wasn't ashamed of having a quickie in the bathroom stall...she just didn't want any of the others to know. 
 
 The principal walked in wearing another conservative suit. Something about the way her straightened hair swayed with each step turned Nik on. That ivory tower of a cock began to spring to life again. If not for opening a notebook to play screen defence, the entire staff room would see the giant outline of his white python. 
 
The meeting was brief and all the staff bustled out to go about their own business. Nik and Michelle stayed back a moment to discuss class business, both being in the same department. 
 
 "Mr. Knight, I'm going to need a new sports coach. Think you can handle the job?" Principal Weiss asked.
 
 "Yeah, sure I can easily do it. Do you have the info now?" he asked, putting the notebook on the desk to write on it. 
 
All the staff had been sitting in those flimsy high school desks with the small, wooden attachment to put a book on. Principal Weiss got a good view of the bulge in his pants. Immediately, her pussy began to clench and moisten. Ebony cheeks began to blush red. Quickly; she took a seat behind the only table so as to not cause a scene. Despite the risky nature, one finger began to rub along the crotch line of her dress pants. The act was hidden from view thanks to the position of the table. 
 
 Nik and Michelle didn't pay her any attention, as the principal told him the details for the upcoming season. 
 
 "I can help him, if you don't mind, Principal Weiss," Michelle chimed in. 
 
 "I'm glad to see you two working so well together. I'll drop by your classroom tomorrow, Mr. Knight, and give you all the proper forms and documents." 
 
 Regaining a little of her composure, she quickly stood up and left. 
 
 "You and I working together?" 
 
 "Is that a problem, Massa?" 
 
 "Not at all. As a matter of fact, I'd enjoy seeing you in a cheerleader uniform." 
 
 "Just tell me and I'll get one." Michelle flashed a credit card at him. "Hubby gave me this. I don't use it often, but I have a feeling it'll get more use now." 
 
 The door was opened slightly. Outside, Principal Weiss had a hand down her pants. It was even riskier than before. She couldn't help finger herself to his voice. Thoughts of that powerful, white cock gaping her holes, and his powerfully built body controlling her made those ebony fingers slide in and out smoothly, slowly. Hearing Mrs. Jackson call him Massa only made the thoughts lewder, lurid and depraved. A collar, a leash, and a barn house, as if it were the 1700s. Hearing footsteps, fun time was interrupted. It didn't take long to make herself look presentable again and walk with purpose to her office. 
 
 Locking the door, pleasurable moans escaped from quivering lips. She did everything she could to not orgasm in the hallway. Her expensive pants were wet now, drenched from her squirting. The ice queen was melting, and all it took was a single, handsome white guy to walk through those hallways. Principal Weiss grew up in an all-black neighborhood, went to an all-black university in the Caribbean on a sports scholarship, and had little contact with whites. It wasn't out of some form of hatred, just geographic inconvenience. An injury kept her from making the Olympics. Her entire life was spent to achieve that goal. Singular focus dominated everything within the woman's world. 
 
 She didn't even plan this, focusing entirely on trying to get this school out of the gutter. Like Nik and Michelle, she was young as well, but it was a story of right place, right time. No one wanted to be the principal of a drug den. No one wanted to be captain of a sinking ship. If not for it being a public school, it'd have been shut down years ago. Truth be told, she never even spoke to the man when he was hired except for some emails telling he was accepted and various school information. The vice-principal handled all the hiring but he soon retired afterwards. 
 
 It was like love at first sight. The strong jaw, the aesthetically pleasing muscles, the way his eyes made her melt like butter when he looked at her innocently, and the strength echoing in that voice. Boys never interested her much, again because of her original dream of being on the Olympic team. Something primal flipped a switch in her brain. 
 
 "Would he like a muscled up girl like me?" she thought. "Of course he would. He is fucking Michelle. She is just as every part the fitness model as me..." 
 
 A conversation played out in the woman's mind, using an imaginary flower to keep score in this mental version of 'he loves me, he loves me not'. 
 
 "But would he want me if he knew I was a..." 
 
 The thought was interrupted by the secretary knocking at the door.