Melissa bent over and lifted a box of oranges. God, they were heavy she thought, as her muscles strained to bear the weight. Her arms weren't used to this kind of work, as she had worked at a clothing store before her job here at a massive supermarket. It wasn't her choice to leave her old job, it was just that it paid better, and money was very important to her right now. As an 18 year old senior, she had to think about her future, which meant enough money for a state school, where she could pursue her interest in painting and art. The money wasn't going to come from her family, as her and her single mother had been cut off when Melissa's dirt bag of a father had left them 5 years ago. It had been a struggle since then, and Melissa did not look back fondly on her high school years.
Melissa had finished loading her cart, so she pushed it out onto the shopping floor. Reaching the fruit section, she began the laborious task of restocking the huge bins that housed all the selections. While she was doing this, she noticed, with annoyance, that some of the male customers were sneaking looks at her. She hated that. Truth be told, Melissa was very attractive. Of Italian ancestry, her skin was a permanent light tan, pierced by her bright green eyes. Her hair was dark brown, curled, and long. She was about 5'9, and was full figured young lady. Her biggest "asset", or so she had been told by her often crude admirers, was her very large and full chest. They were plump and erect, a fact that not even the loose fitting green polo shirt they made her wear could conceal. Giving her womanly body further allure was her round and well proportioned backside, which strained against the rather tight khaki slacks she had to wear. Melissa knew she was very attractive, but was not always happy about it. Most of the boys in high school were still childish, and those who did have the guts to ask her out were often boring and obnoxious jocks. She had had a few romantic encounters, but nothing even approaching serious sexual activity.
Turning her head to the left, she caught a 40 something male staring at her bust. He quickly looked away, handing some new pineapples to his dutiful wife. This town makes me sick, thought Melissa. It was a rich town, full of pompous midwestern elites, who did nothing but make money and watch high school and college football. Their kids were all drunken losers, and the poor like her were relegated to inferior status. She counted the days until she could leave.
Another man, this time a young black man approached her. He had a store shirt on.
"Hey, you're names Melissa, right?"
"Yes."
"I'm the department manager here, my names Jamal," he said with an odd smile.
Melissa looked for a second, and recognized him. He had been a star football player at the high school when she was a freshman. She remembered him being kicked out for drugs or something, but she couldn't quite remember. It was an odd thing, a black kid at the all-white high school. Melissa's mother had always been a fierce racist, and the town had helped facilitate Melissa's own views that most blacks were lazy criminals.
"Nice to meet you Jamal."
Jamal asked her somethings about high school, and how she liked the job so far. It was small talk, but Melissa was kind of put off by his odd smile, almost a leer. That, and the actual imposing figure of Jamal. He was probably around 6'2, and was very solidly built. His biceps and chest strained against the tight polo shirt.
"Well, you seem to be doing a good job here so far. Why don't you come back to my little office in the back, I have some forms for you to fill out."
Melissa thought it was strange to leave the cart out like this, but he was the boss. She followed him into the back of the store and into his small closet office, which was filled with a desk and a filing cabinet.
"Close the door behind you there Melis," said Jamal.
Melissa complied, thinking it was kind of forward for her boss to call her that. Just friendly she guessed.
She turned, and saw Jamal standing right in front of her. She was confused for a second, then reacted in fear as she saw what was in her bosses eyes. The powerful young black man pushed her against the wall gently, then placed his massive long hands on her full breats.
"Oh yeah baby, these are beautiful. You're going to be a great employee here..."
"No...no...stop it, I don't want this..." said Melissa, as she struggled to push Jamal's hands off herself.
"Sure you do bitch, sure you do," said Jamal, as he kissed the squirming young white girl full on the lips, hard.
Melissa was shocked. She had to get away. Jamal was roughly kissing her and squeezing her taut nipples, his tongue pushing against her pursed lips.
"Leave me alone!" yelled Melissa, who managed to slip away from Jamal's grasp. She threw the door open and ran out, tears falling down her cheeks. She was shaking as she ran away from the office, into the massive storage section of the store. What should she do? Melissa decided to tell her main manager what had happened, he would understand. But first, she thought, she should get herself together. She found the ladies room reserved for employees and went in. Using the sink was a middle aged black woman, who noticed Melissa's distress.
"You ok honey?"
"I....I'm fine. Just a little sick," stammered Melissa.
"Alright, you tell me if you need any help," said the lady, who then left.
Melissa looked at herself in the mirror. Her face and eyes were red, and the light mascara she wore was a mess. She got some paper towels and began to wipe her face. A few seconds later, she heard the voice of the black woman just outside the door.
"Yeah, you're bitch is in there Jamal".
Melissa froze. Oh no...
The door flew open, and there stood an enraged Jamal. His eyes were wide open. Melissa backed herself towards the stall, pleading.
"Please Jamal, please, just let me go, I won't say anything..." sobbed Melissa.
"It's too late for that bitch! I want somethin from yo ass now!" yelled Jamal, as he locked the door behind him.
Melissa, in a last desperate attempt, rushed for one of the stalls. But, just as she opened one, Jamal's rough hands were on her back. He turned her around fiercely, as Melissa screamed and tried to push him away. Jamal pulled his hand back and smacked Melissa extremely hard across the right side of her face. Melissa had never been hit so hard in her life. Her body went numb, and she landed back on the toilet seat.
"Now, let's get down to business you little white bitch. You shouldn't have run away from me like that, I would have gone nice and easy on you. Cuz of that, I'm gonna be real rough with your lily white pussy."
Melissa could barely react as she reeled from the pain. She just looked up, helpless, hoping someone would rescue her.
Jamal ripped off his shirt, revealing an extremely muscular body.
"Stand up bitch!" he commanded, roughly lifting Melissa to her feet. He immediately smashed his mouth onto hers. This time, his tongue would not be denied, Melissa simply did not have the energy. She stood there, prostrate with fear, as he roughly invaded her mouth, pushing against her full lips. His hands went down her back, roughly cupping her plump ass.
After a few seconds, Jamal pulled out and looked into her eyes.
"I just like to kiss my white bitches before I really fuck them up. Just so they know how much I love them," he said, with a bright grin.
The powerful black man pushed Melissa's arms up and quickly ripped her polo shirt off. Her tanned skin was pleasantly moist, her white lace straining to contain her D-cup breasts. A small gold cross rested in her cleavage, a present given to her by her grandmother when she was three.
"Aww, how cute," joked Jamal, ripping the small piece of jewelry from her neck and threw it to the ground. Melissa looked down, defeated, as the last piece of her girlish innocence ended up on the floor of a restroom. Jamal made quick work of her bra, then began to squeeze and lick her tits.
"Oh my little Italian bitch, you got great tits. Yes sir, I'm going to have fun with these!" said Jamal.
Melissa slowly came back to reality. Oh God, she said, as she felt Jamal work her tits. I can't believe this is happening to me. She was a virgin, besides a few make out sessions. And now, she was going to be raped by a large black man, who were nothing but criminals and deviants in her mind. There was no escape, no hope, she just tried to ignore him. Still, as his hands went down her tight pants and under her white panties, she couldn't help but feel some kind of tingling, a foreign anticipation in her pussy.
"Sit down bitch," ordered Jamal, pushing her on the toilet seat again.
"Please, let me go, please,...I..." stammered a desperate Melissa.
Jamal put his fist right next to her face.
"Shut the fuck up you little white slut! You're my slave now, you better understand that! If you keep whinin, I'm gonna beat you to death! You hear me!?"
Melissa'e eyes opened wide. She was so frightened she could barely react, except for a quick nod. Her hands shook.
"Let me ask you a question Melis. You ever see a dick before?"
Melissa was stunned. Jamal put his fist in front of her face.
"Answer my question."
"No..no I haven't."
Jamal laughed.
"Not even a little white one?"
"No."
"Well then, I got something for you bitch."
Melissa gasped as the realization hit her. Jamal unzipped his pants, and let them fall to the floor. Then, he pulled down his gray boxers, revealing a massive black penis. Jamal held it in his hands triumphantly, right in front of his white slaves face. It was about a foot long and very thick, with large veins coursing through it as it pulsed.
