Chapter 3
A visit and a visitor
All told, William had been there for about two hours and the night was indeed still young. In fact William suggested we get dressed and head out to a bar. He, of course, knew a place where he could show us a few things that might interest us.
"I don't know how far you want to take this, but I'm going to show you something some people call Black-Owned," he smiled as he buttoned his jeans. "Just something to think about. Maybe you won't believe it happens right here in our little town."
Susan slipped on the same scant dress and sandals after taking a quick shower, and before long we were following William downtown to what turned out to be a place called Joe's. It was a tavern/pool hall catering (you guessed it) to a mostly Black crowd.
We parked beside William and joined him at the entrance, Susan's short, Indian cotton sundress flaring out with each swish of her hips. At the door, William stopped before going in.
"This is just an ordinary bar. Lots of ordinary people having a few beers after work," he said. "But there's a few people I'll point out and explain some things to you. Susan's with me. That's the way it has to be 'cause that way we can control the situation – if there is a situation."
I knew what he meant. If she was with me, every guy in the place would be after her.
"Now, whatever happens, just trust me," He said. "Remember, I'm a bouncer (not at that bar) and I'm used to dealing with drunks."
With that, he went in, holding my wife by the wrist as they went through the door first. He later explained that holding her wrist, and not the hand, indicated to everyone that she was his.
I walked in behind them and into a completely different world.
Well, not completely different. It was just like every other bar except 90 per cent of the people were Black. The 10 per cent who were white were women – with the exception of myself and maybe two other white guys.
It was a big place with three rooms plus a pool hall and a corridor at the back that led to washrooms and I presumed some offices. There was a small stage with a brass pole, but no activity there at the moment. Susan would get to know that pole quite well.
We sat in the smallest of the three rooms – one of half a dozen tables. It was more intimate than the rest of the place and perhaps where a bit of covert activity went on. Most of the white women were there and they all seemed to have a feverish glow about them – as if a child waiting for candy. One woman seated at a table of five or six Black men no doubt had a lot of 'candy' to swallow at some point in the evening. And all were dressed like whores – breasts hanging out of low-cut blouses, skirts that did nothing to cover thongs and G-strings -- or bare pussys. Their makeup was an open invitation to their cunts. And most had an aura of being extremely well used, experienced, and perhaps on their way downhill. One in particular, a bleach-blonde of about 40, was half drunk or half stoned, and didn't seem to notice her blouse was unbuttoned and her large but beginning-to-sag tits were visible to all. Her short skirt was pulled up and her black thong revealed most of her shaved pussy. Even as I looked she ran her fingers under the thin crotch strap and rubbed her self absent-mindedly.
Perhaps it was because most of these women were well known and well used that most eyes turned to Susan as our escort found a table with only two other occupants and gestured for us to sit down. The men's faces showed plenty of interest and the women scowled.
The men at our table knew William and he introduced them as, well, I can't remember who they were. I'm sure both of them have since fucked my wife more than once. Susan was seated between William and one of the men. I sat on the other side of the second man – effectively as far away from Susan as possible at the round table. There were two unoccupied seats left and they were soon filled by two more Black men who had come to check out the new white whore.
This is sort of how it went for the next half hour. Drinks were ordered. William didn't ask Susan what she wanted, just bought her a double whiskey, no ice. I had a beer. Conversation was polite at first, with all five men asking Susan relatively innocent questions. But eventually, the questions were more personal and intimate. I was totally ignored.
Then William simply told them if things went well, Susan would soon be available. They looked at her and she gave a short, quick nod. Then to my complete surprise, he described in detail Susan's body, her cunt, how she was to fuck, their two fuck sessions earlier in the evening, and her interest in possibly going Black for good.
She just sat with her drink (her second double) and nodded the odd time. Willaim worked her dress up (I could tell from where I was sitting what he was doing) and the man sitting on the other side of her gave William a questioning look. He nodded and it was obvious from his movements and Susan's quick intake of breath that he was feeling her pussy. The man's smile became huge and Susan began breathing rapidly. Her face glowed and her eyes became glassy. I knew that look.
But it seemed to end a few minutes later and William began pointing out the other women. Sara was about 43 and had gone Black about three years before. She was (is?) a school teacher, wife, and mother. A man named Jerry 'owned' her and while he had kept her to himself the first year or so, she was soon loaned out to friends and then just loaned out. One of the men made a joke that Sara had gone in for cosmetic surgery – an anal tuck. They all laughed. They speculated her body was good for another year. After that she'd probably be either dumped or if she wanted put to the community as an actual whore.
Beth was 36 and went Black a year before. She was petite like Susan and William described her as a gymnast and a gangbang whore. Her once-snug cunt was like a cavern now and double penetration of her pussy was her favourite. William said she had probably been fucked more times in one year than Sara in three – and by twice as many Black cocks. She was a real estate agent and I recognized her from her visits to my office (not to see me). Eventually she noticed me and was visibly shocked. Not as much as I was, especially when William mentioned she was going to be a breeder, although she didn't know it yet. Apparently her 'owner,' Randy was negotiating it with Beth's husband. I was amazed at how simple the plan was. After her next period replace her birth control pills with duds. Unknown to her, the next few gangbangs would actually be breeding parties. And the plan was even more complicated. Randy was also a real estate agent for the same company but at a different branch in a different town. When she became pregnant and well along, he was arranging for her to be transferred to yet another branch in yet another town in an all-black, all male office. Beth knew nothing about any of it but her husband was heavily involved in the planning and even had a job for himself lined up.
Jenny was 45 and was the one who looked about used up. She had been owned at first. Back five or six years ago. And had been the most wanted, most fucked white slut in the area. Now she drifted into all the bars hoping for Black cock and a few dollars to pay for her rent for a shit-hole room in a slum black neighbourhood. The room and its single bed, table, and chair was where she fucked for $5 a dozen times a day. Nobody was turned away. William had checked it out once, he said. He walked into the room where she was splayed on the cot, cum dripping from her pussy and her hands tied to the head of the bed. She'd been ganged and they 'forgot' to untie her. He said there was $20 on the chair. William then noted her gaping ass hole with sperm up to the rim. He settled for a blow job. He said her husband had wanted her to return home to their old life but she refused, preferring to keep peddling her cunt in a degrading lifestyle that despite its poverty, shunning, and abuse – she loved. I looked at her with new appreciation. This was the ultimate end for someone like my wife. This was what it could lead to.
"She's what you use when you want it quick at any time of the day or night. And she's still really good. Not much left upstairs though," William said sadly. "We sort of look after her. Make sure she doesn't come to any real harm."
Was this all true? I didn't know. It was a pretty tall story, but I was sitting there looking at Jenny's moist cunt just barely covered with thin wet fabric. I guessed it was possible.
