Leanne Blanche smiled to herself as her worker Miss Baatile Adewale brought her breakfast in bed. The six-foot-tall, dark-skinned, large-breasted, wide-hipped and big-bottomed, thirty-something Black woman from the Zulu tribe of South Africa looked positively fetching in a Black T-shirt and Blue jeans. The slender blonde-haired woman greeted her worker with a smile and nod. She looked at what Miss Baatile had prepared for her. A delicious-looking omelette, along with buttered bread and orange juice. Leanne thanked Baatile for breakfast, and licked her lips as the tall Black woman turned to leave. All of a sudden Leanne was hungry, and not just for food. The twenty-something White lady wanted something else.
Leanne stood and rapidly closed the gap between Baatile and herself. She put her arms around Baatile and gently kissed her on the cheek. Baatile froze when Leanne began kissing her and caressing her big Black butt. The Zulu woman sighed. She knew this was coming. Leanne Blanche was a wealthy newcomer to the Republic of South Africa. And she hailed from the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec. Somewhere in the Confederation of Canada. Three years ago she bought the mansion in the suburb of Johannesburg, and staffed it with eleven Black women. The French-Canadian businesswoman paid her Black female workers handsomely. Nine hundred and seventy Rand a day, which was definitely considered generous.
And all that Leanne Blanche asked was that the women keep the house clean, and prepared her meals. The servants were even provided with generous servants quarters, which contained king-sized beds, refrigerators, full kitchens, and functioning washrooms. The women were only expected to work eight hours a day, and she was always polite and respectful towards them. Leanne even paid for their transportation, giving each woman an extra two hundred Rand a month for the bus system of Johannesburg. The ladies were given two days off a week, and those were paid days off. Such working conditions were unheard of in the City of Johannesburg. The most modern town in the Republic of South Africa.
When Baatile heard about this friendly and generous White lady living in Johannesburg and offering gainful employment to impoverished Black women, she was skeptic. A lifetime of living with South Africa's White people rendered Baatile distrustful of the breed. Yet there was something about this tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed French-Canadian lady whose house was filled with pictures of famous Black people ranging from Michael Jackson to Usher and Janet Jackson, U.S. President Barack Obama, NBA superstar Kobe Bryant and Oprah Winfrey herself. Leanne didn't seem to associate with other White people. The only guests she ever received were wealthy members of the Black middle-class of South Africa. Baatile found herself puzzled by that.
When she started working at the mansion, Baatile Adewale noticed that the other ten Black women working there were good-looking and fit. They ranged in ages from twenty to forty, but none were older than that. Looking at the generous servants quarters which contained flat TV screens and dozens of U.S. movie titles on DVD, Baatile found such working conditions tolerable. Leanne insisted that all her workers address her as Leanne, but she called them Miss. Always. And her tone was always friendly and respectful, never angry or annoyed. Baatile found herself surprised to be referred to as Miss Baatile or Miss Adewale. The White lady from Canada never called her by her first name, which she found strange.
A month went by. Miss Baatile didn't find the work difficult. Just cooking and cleaning, and she collected a fat paycheck at the end of the work week. She had two paid days off every week. Life was good while working for Leanne, the strange French-Canadian woman. Then Baatile began noticing something strange. One day she found Dikeledi Lehsoto, the chubby, dreadlocked, twenty-something Black gal from the City of Soweto, in bed with Leanne Blanche. The blonde-haired White lady lay there, moaning in pleasure as Dikeledi licked her pussy. Miss Baatile stared at the two women as they did their thing. Neither of them had seen her. The tall Zulu woman watched, fascinated in spite of herself. Dikeledi was licking the White woman's pussy with gusto. Soon Leanne was returning the favour, spreading Dikeledi's plump thighs and licking the young Black woman's pussy. Dikeledi squealed in pleasure as Leanne Blanche licked and fingered her hairy Black pussy like there was no tomorrow.
Miss Baatile shook her head. The Zulu woman decided she had seen enough. So, her new boss Leanne Blanche the French-Canadian lady was a lesbian. Who knew? Miss Baatile wasn't that surprised. The White lady sometimes looked at the Black female workers with undisguised lust. Miss Baatile had worked for many such people in her life, but they were usually men. White men who lusted after South Africa's truly beautiful Black women. And now this White chick from Montreal City in the Confederation of Canada craved the Black women just like the men of her race did. It's amazing. Miss Baatile still couldn't make herself step away from the keyhole from which she watched Dikeledi and Leanne as they continued with their trifling lesbian ways. Now the White lady wore a strap-on dildo and propped Dikeledi on all fours. She spanked the chubby Black woman's big Black butt and then slid the dildo into her pussy. And just like that, the French-Canadian dyke began slamming her dildo into the South African woman's moist Black pussy while pulling on her dreadlocked hair.
Dikeledi screamed in pain mixed with pleasure as Leanne Blanche fucked her roughly with the strap-on dildo, calling her all sorts of names in French. Miss Baatile didn't speak French but she could guess at what Leanne's words meant. Everybody pretty much said the same things while fucking or getting fucked, regardless of race, gender or nationality. Miss Baatile shook her head and walked away. She knew there was a catch to working for Leanne. The woman paid too well. She was too generous with her workers. She was too friendly with them too. Miss Baatile sighed to herself. She should have seen this coming. She talked to some of the other Black women working for Leanne. Evidently the French-Canadian lesbian had slept with all of them. Most of the women told Baatile that they enjoyed it, even the straight ones.
All those thoughts flashed through Miss Baatile's mind as Leanne began kissing her and fondling her butt. The tall Black woman from South Africa towered over the small, slender blonde-haired White woman from Canada. In a clear and calm voice, Miss Baatile told Leanne that she was heterosexual. She only had sex with men, not women. Leanne nodded, and told Miss Baatile that she found her beautiful and respected her choice. With a sigh of regret, Leanne let her go. Miss Baatile stared her down. She braced herself for what she knew would happen. White people were all the same. Whenever you said no to them, they made you pay. Miss Baatile expected Leanne to fire her, at the very least. The proud Black woman stood her ground. And was completely unprepared when Leanne simply passed out, falling unconscious. Instinctively, Baatile caught the falling French-Canadian woman in her arms.
When Leanne came to, she was in bed. And the tall, stern Miss Baatile watched over her. Leanne looked her saviour in the eyes and thanked her. Then she told her story to Miss Baatile. Leanne told her how she grew up in a Haitian neighbourhood in the City of Montreal, Quebec. She discovered she was a lesbian and found herself attracted to the proud, beautiful Haitian women of Montreal-Nord. Her wealthy parents didn't approve of her sexual preference for women or her fondness for Black ladies. They cut her off financially. After graduating from McGill University's School of Law, Leanne sued them and obtained a large settlement. Then she married Marie Joseph, the lovely Black woman she met while visiting a friend at the University of Montreal. Miss Baatile was stunned to hear this. In Canada women could marry each other? Leanne nodded and continued with her story. Life with Marie Joseph was amazing. Then one day, Marie Joseph died in a plane crash. And Leanne lost her mind. She moved to South Africa, a country Marie Joseph always wanted to visit. She was still sexually attracted to Black women, but wouldn't let herself fall in love again for fear of losing her lover.
