OUR RELEASE

The next morning was a race. I was awakened by the cute “candy striper” bringing in my breakfast. I was starved. It tasted so good I just gulped everything down. As my tray went out the door, a maternity nurse instructed me to get up…which was surprisingly easy…and get comfortable in a large chair by the window.

Breast feeding was such a treat. Already, we both knew exactly what to do. He was hungry and my breasts were so ready for him. A contented feeling came over me as I sat holding him, looking out over the parking lots from the fourth floor. It was magic. The world seemed so right.

My mother’s parting admonition came back to mind and I smiled.

I looked at the end of the nursery cart in front of me. There was a large, computer generated, card with our credentials. I was shocked by the information.

NAME…Robert Dickson Jr. Yes that was his given name on the side of his nursery cart. When and how did he get that? I am sure I agreed at some point during all the activity, but I could not remember.

Mother…Caroline Webster

Father…Robert Dickson. Another shock-a-roo; why would Dickson be listed as the father? Where was Jamal?

The sign provided other information, but I was lost in thought following revelation of the names of the baby and the legal father. I did like that both names matched the tattoo on my lower tummy which was undoubtedly viewed by the entire medical delivery team.

Moments later my doctor came in with a case worker and a nurse to start procedures for my release. They stood near me with several open PC files and reviewed things. I quickly realized that all questions had already been answered. All I really had to do was agree, listen to some verbal instructions, which were also given to me in writing, sign a couple documents, and receive the congratulations of my medical “team”. I was warmly told both the baby I were doing remarkably well. I was being released a day earlier than I might otherwise have been. I was delighted I still disliked hospitals even though everything about this experience had been wonderful…even the food.

One parting remark from the doctor caused me to stop for a moment. The team had all said goodbye and were ready to leave. As he turned toward the door he stopped and turned back,

“I know we will see you again real soon, Caroline. Stay healthy and take care of that little guy.”

He smiled broadly, turned and went out the door. What was he saying? Was it just a friendly way of saying goodbye…or did he know something about my future?

My mind was still pondering that statement, as Dickson walked into the room. He kissed and hugged me warmly and then pulled the chair over very close beside me.

“Hey Caroline this is wonderful. We just got the call about an hour ago that you were going to be released today. Great! I think we have everything set up. I brought a neat outfit for you to wear…hope you like it. They tell me they will be up with a wheel chair in ten minutes. Are you ready to get dressed?”

I nodded… thanked him and took the small bag he had brought with me into the bathroom. Everything seemed so normal…no instability…no pain…no problems down below…just bulbous breasts that were large and heavy.

The “outfit” consisted of black bikini panties and a flowing dark blue gown/robe that tied just under my breasts. It smelled new. It looked great. It really emphasized my breasts and deemphasized my remaining little tummy. I was thrilled with how I looked. I was thrilled with how I could move about with no pains or problems…and I was doubly thrilled by the way Dickson looked at me as I went back to sit beside him in the big easy chair.

We sat looking at one another. His face was filled with delight and pride. What a good looking guy. Finally, I had to ask the question,

“You are a neat guy and all, but why are you listed on all the paperwork as the father of Robert Jr.?…and who is paying all the bills here…and who gave my baby that name…and where was I through all this…and what else don’t I know?”

Without further prompting Dickson moved closer and quietly went into an explanation.

“Caroline we had a little planning meeting at Bobby’s place right after you went into labor. Jamal was in charge, but he listened to a lot of good suggestions from the rest of us.

It was decided that I should be listed as the father. My age was right. Jamal felt his age would be embarrassing for you. My name was right. Bobby is tattooed on your body. Further, my being the father would make everything very complex if your parents or anyone else got vindictive and wanted to take legal action. No DNA tests would stand up.

Bobby and Jamal are handling all the medical bills. They both have a lot of money as you know.

You and the baby will be moving to one of their condos today. I guess it is a real nice place on the edge of the hood. It was decided you and I will live there and you will have my support for as long as you want.

Jamal has to go back to Panama to finish his tour.

Donna, whom you know, may be living there for a while as well…she will be having another baby soon. I don’t know that entire story, but we will find out.

Moments later a very small black guy arrived with a wheelchair. He introduced himself and automatically explained it was hospital policy that he give me a ride to the main entrance, even if I felt good enough to go down on my own…which I did.

I turned toward the door just as Jamal came in along with Reggie, Miles and Trevor. All four of them were dressed so “black” it was almost comical. This was going to be a grand parade down, out through the lobby, and out to the front door to a waiting limo.

The attendant helped me into the wheelchair…I didn’t need it but I didn’t refuse. A nurse brought me Robert Jr. He was wrapped in a very colorful native African baby blanket. I snuggled his little blackness against me as our caravan headed out into the hall toward the elevators. Dickson walked on one side carrying my things…Jamal on the other…Reggie, Miles and Trevor followed. I was white and all others in the entourage, from Robert Jr. to the hospital attendant, were black.

Dear Reader I do not need to describe the procession. You can imagine. Grady Memorial Hospital is as white as a hospital can get. We made quite a spectacle as we moved out of the room down the hall and into the elevator.

As the elevator doors opened and we moved out into the lobby we stopped everything. It was such a busy place, but things got very quiet, and every eye turn as our procession came into view

During this whole process I kept a broad smile on my face. Every one of these black guys escorting me, including the attendant pushing me, had a look of unmitigated pride as they moved me out through the curious throng to a waiting long black limousine. I did not see a single black face in the curious crowd in the lobby. I did see a lot of startled expressions.

Jamal and Dickson hustled about assuring I had the most easily accessed seat in the limo, and that I got in safely with the baby. When all of us were in the back of the limo the driver moved away. Within a mile, Jamal turned to me with a curious question.

“Caroline, Matt’s brother is about your age and he was telling us that there were three other girls that were always roaming around with you teasing the black guys at the shopping mall. What were their names?”

I know I must have looked surprised but I quickly offered the names,

“Sybil, Sandy and Emily…we were known as the four amigos. Sybil is my closest friend.”

We drove along a mile or two before Jamal responded.

“As soon as we get settled Bobby would like to meet them. Once you and Little Dickson are settled we want you to invite Sybil over to see the baby.”

He said nothing more. Things went silent and my mind went into overdrive. I was surprised but not shocked by his comments. I knew what motivated black men. I understood the taboo. I understood the unmitigated pride and feeling of accomplishment they achieve by blacktizing a young white girl, knocking her up and getting together to support her. I had witnessed it all first hand. I had looked at the pride in their eyes when they visited me in the hospital…as they wheeled me through the hospital lobby…as I took my black baby home. I was living their game for them. I knew how they felt. Did Bobby simply want to extend the game a bit by being with me when Sybil met Little Dickson? Or was he setting me up to take their game even further. Either way they wanted my closest friend to see how wonderful this whole taboo thing could be.

SYBIL

It took most of the weekend for me to get settled into a beautiful master bedroom suite in a large condo that Bobby owned. Little Dickson was right across the hall in a cute nursery bedroom and our master bath was shared between the rooms. Our rooms were at the end of a long hall which passed several doors to other bedrooms along the way.

On the very next Monday afternoon I called Sybil as Bobby required. She was delighted to hear from me and equally delighted to be invited over to see the baby. Every word she said convinced me how curious she was. She was very anxious to learn all she could about me and my life, so she could carry juicy stories back to the others. It was clear in her eyes I was the poor white girl who had gotten all knocked up by a black guy and was now a circus curiosity. She so wanted to demote me to a lower form of life in the eyes of all our friends.

I set everything up for seven that evening just as Jamal and Bobby had instructed. Sybil was to go to the shopping mall and park at the north entrance where a limo would meet her. The idea of a limo ride was exciting for her in its own right. Her life was so boring, particularly now that I had been unavailable. This was going to be a real adventure.

Jamal told me to tell her to arrange to stay with me over night in case things got late. She agreed. She would cover with a story about spending the night at Emily’s. It was easy to do. Sybil’s home life was a wreck. Mother and dad divorced, fighting and completely out of touch with her.

I had her on speaker phone. Jamal listened to the details and nodded agreement with everything. That was it. My best friend was going to see my wonderful little guy, and get to learn more about my new low life as well.

I heard the limo pull up at the condo at about eight. Dickson answered the door. He was such a gentleman playing the role of father and concerned husband. I was seated on the couch, wearing a new bright African caftan Jamal had brought over in the afternoon. I had just finished feeding little Dickson and was holding him closely with my gown still open a bit. I loved these moments as the baby and I bonded. His very black skin was such a contrast to my very white breasts. It was an immediate turn on just to look down at him. He certainly had Jamal’s handsome broad features.

Sybil’s face lit up as she walked toward us. She was a study. I could tell instantly she was so very impressed and curious about everything to do with me, the baby, and my surroundings. I certainly did not look mistreated or low life.

Without hesitation she started into all the questions you would expect. I started by telling her how delighted I was with the baby and my life here. Her questions continued, but the answers were easy. I was a happy young white girl with a very cute, very black, baby that everyone loved. How I got to the position in life had to largely remain a mystery for the time being, but what I emphasized over and over was how wonderful it was to have a purpose in life. I was no longer a bored high school girl looking for thrills. I had faced the ultimate sexual taboo and now had real reasons to live each day… the adoration of my black male friends and my baby.

Dickson brought in drinks. Two sips later I could tell the content of our drinks was quite different. Mine was a lovely mix of fruit juice while Sybil’s drink had her quite happy and talking freely within a couple minutes.

Sybil continued to ask question searching for any opening that would prove my unhappiness as the mother of this little black baby. Twenty minutes later Sybil was feeling no pain as Trevor and Miles arrived. I introduced Sybil and right away, any doubt I might have had about her visit was removed, it was clear Bobby had a game under way for her. I knew Bobby and the rest of these men…I knew what they could do to a young girl…I was living proof of their ability and I watched as Sybil received the benefits of their charming ways. Her drink was refreshed. Trevor immediately went to her side, took her elbow, and together they moved to a comfortable couch across the room. Sybil was all smiles as Trevor continued to charm her.

Sybil asked to hold the baby. Jamal smiled and nodded…yes.

I went across and gently placed the baby in her arms. What a little charmer. He won her heart immediately. You could see it so clearly in her eyes and hear it in her voice as she looked down into his cute little face and cooed quiet baby talk to him.

Trevor had his arm around Sybil gently cradling her and the baby in a protective fashion.

Jamal stood back with the others for a while observing and then moved across the room to sit close to me on the couch. He smiled at me and whispered,

“I think Sybil should have one of her very own. What do you think, Caroline?”

It was such a low whisper. It was his way of bringing me on board.

I looked up into his eyes,

“Yes. She would be the perfect mother…once she got over the initial shock.”

Jamal looked at me as we smile together.

“You know better than anyone we can arrange that for her, don’t you?”

“Yes sir. I sure do.”

I smiled up into his face.

I didn’t know who in the room could hear him, until there were quiet high fives among the black guys sitting nearby who obviously had heard us. I didn’t know what Sybil had heard across the room, but there was an indication of big progress with her when she looked across the room at me with an obvious glow in her eyes. Was her reaction in response to our comments or the cute black baby in her arms? Ultimately it did not matter.

Trevor did not leave her side for even a moment. Her drink was refreshed again. Some short time later I got a nod from Jamal to go over and get the baby.

Bobby arrived moments after I had returned to the couch. Sybil was standing with Trevor and Miles, sipping her latest drink and talking. The excitement in the room was electric. I was aware of quiet music for the first time…Lou Rawls. The lights dimmed automatically.

Sybil was introduced to Bobby who immediately charmed her with complements about the skirt she was wearing. (It was a skirt that had teased the shit out of the boys in the shopping mall on several occasions.) Sybil glowed all over.

Back when we did the mall safari, I got most of the attention from the black guys, but she actually was a bit more curvaceous than me. Before my black breeding her breasts were larger than mine. (She was a C while I was a B.) Her hips and little tummy make her skirt very attractive, but my butt and legs were winners in those categories. My face was cuter and my hair was much nicer, but she was not as shy as me.

But, right now I had no time for further comparisons; she was the center of attention and these black brothers were enjoying her immensely. For right now, I was the lactating mother on the sidelines, and Sybil was the center of attention. The level of excitement was electric; a game was afoot for my amigo Sybil

I heard Trevor tell her he wanted to show her something in his room. She turned to him with a smile of agreement and took his hand as she turned unsteadily toward the hall.

I could hear Trevor quietly reinforcing Bobby’s complements as they disappeared. Sybil steps were a bit unstable, and cautious, but there was no hesitance. She had Trevor’s support. His comments faded as they reached the bedroom.

Bobby turned and smiled at me. I was seated on the couch with the baby in my arms. A most possessive look came over his face as he walked over, sat down, opened the top of my Caftan, and warmly brought my enlarged breasts up and out together for inspection.

Bobby then had me bring little Dickson up from my lap to where he found my bare left breast and began to feed vigorously.

Miles and Jamal and the small group of black brothers sat across the room quietly watching and obviously enjoying everything going on with me. Bobby used his index finger to slowly outline the tattoo on my lower tummy for all to see. As he did he looked across at the black guys with pride…a pride that was instantly reflected back. They shared his pride, they had all shared me.

The room went quiet except for some contented sounds from little Dickson. It seemed like we were all sitting quietly, waiting, for something to explode.

About twenty minutes later it did. A loud scream came from the back bedroom…followed a moment later by another… and then two more.

There was raucous laughter and high fives among the black guys.

Jamal moved across the room to sit on the opposite side of me from Bobby. His arm went around my shoulders,

“Well Caroline Sybil just joined the club. Another white gal just learned what can happen when she wears those sexy outfits to the mall and teases black guys. I am not the only big black buck that succumbed to the temptations, am I?”

I looked down at a contented Little Dickson and then up into Jamal’s black face and smiled,

“You certainly succumbed, sir.”

Jamal reached over and gently stroked Little Dickson at my breast.

Miles moved over to the wide screen TV and within moments he brought up live video of Sybil and Trevor in the back bedroom. Trevor had her spread on her back, propped up appropriately by two large pillows. He was firmly mounted deep in her young white body, pumping load after load of his semen down deep into her vagina. She was weakly protesting, but the combination of his forcefulness, the drinks and her lack of resistance…had won the day. She was being screwed royally.

Everything out in the living room went quiet as activity and noises from the bed room increased. My amigo had become the entertainment. Trevor continued to work on her for some time and honestly, dear reader, I can’t give you much detail. I was so turned on. It seemed he took her every way possible, her protests quieted and then turned to murmurs. Slowly we watched as her young body became accustomed to the enormous black cock and she began to respond. Soon she was arching upward to meet his thrusts.

I was so captured by my emotions I lost track of everything except Bobby and Jamal seated next to me, little Dickson feeding, and the continuing reactions of Miles and Dickson across the room. Their horny faces were such a turn on. It was sometime later when my attention returned to the TV and Sybil’s plight.

It was obvious the game had moved to a new level. In the low light we could see Sybil standing absolutely nude facing the camera with Trevor behind her holding her in an embrace. Her arms were pinned backward. Her breasts were dark red from his abuse and we could clearly see moisture making its way down her upper thighs.

Sybil’s face told the entire story. She was the only one of the four amigos that had a serious boyfriend but so what; Now she had been really taken…screwed…fucked for the first time in her life…and as with me…it was by a very big black cock. She was visibly shaking all over, but as she turned to look backward at Trevor her expression was very revealing. She was shaking because of the exposure. She tried feebly to move him back to the warmth of his bed.

Trevor held her in position in front of the camera looking over her shoulder with a Cheshire cat grin. He nodded and I watched in amazement as Miles got up and headed down the hall. Sybil’s position had been a signal.

A moment later he came into view behind Trevor. Miles erection was an enormous work of art. The exchange was perfectly timed. There was no evidence that Sybil even knew that Miles had replaced Trevor. Gently Miles returned her to the bed as Trevor slipped out leaving the open door behind them.

I have to admit I was very aroused by the blacktizing of my good friend. In some strange way it explained so much about my fall from grace in the white community. I had made a mistake and everything happened to me as a result of my criminal activity and the seductive outfit I was wearing…Sybil had fallen victim to a cute black face, a strong drink or two, a seductive outfit, and a loving black charmer who moved her along quickly. Clearly, I was the one with the firmer constitution. It had taken so much more for the black guys to get me.

Bobby and Jamal had move out to the kitchen for drinks just as Trevor returned up the hall. I was still seated on the couch still breast feeding little Dickson. Trevor walked over to the side of couch and presented a very flaccid phallus for my inspection. I reached for it with my free hand and within in moments Caroline Webster was appreciating one large soft black dick, while breast feeding her black baby, while watching the TV monitor, as her closest friend was flat on her back in bed taking on her second black lover of the evening. I was literally shaking with erotic emotion. The four or five black brothers still lounging across the room were obviously torn between watching Sybil on the monitor and watching Caroline in real life.

Miles was doing Sybil vigorously. He had placed her missionary style on the bed as he gently kissed her deeply. I watched as he drove into her aggressively after a little foreplay. Her moan could be heard both on the TV and coming down the hall from the room at the same time.

In a matter of minutes they were working together on the bed and I was matching with Trevor working his cock in my mouth.

The bedroom door had been left open. Sybil’s moans came floating down the hall interrupted only by Miles grunting from time to time as he deposited his black seed deep in her white belly. This went on for some time…over and over Miles climaxed, she moaned, until finally everything came together in one very large release for both of them.

Miles looked at the camera with a most exhausted expression.

Bobby was the last to go down the hall to meet Sybil and offer his condolences on her condition. Our last views on the TV were of Sybil standing absolutely nude in front of Bobby as he sat on the side of the bed bringing her most sensitive parts directly to his waiting lips. Her moans went out of control and no one knew better than I what he was doing to achieve these results. Finally, Bobby directed her as she meekly moved into the bed on top of Bobby and onto his beautiful erection.

The lights faded.

Sometime later there was a shuffling noise in the hall and Bobby reappeared. He was smiling from ear to ear. His pride was absolutely glowing.

He walked over to me and opened the front of my Caftan completely. I had finished breast feeding and had placed little Dickson in his crib in the other room, but my nipples were still distended and damp. One at a time he consumed them as I stood there. Bobby pulled back a little and smiled,

“What a lovely young lady your Sybil is…for good reasons she is resting. Fell sound asleep. All I had to do was lie down beside her and gently rubbed her back. I think she may be in bed for the night.”

Just then Jamal came up the hall from the bathroom. It was clear Jamal was in charge when it came to me,

“Guys Caroline needs a good night’s rest. I think she and I are going to call it quits for tonight.”

His simple statement brought everything to a halt. The TV was turned off. Dickson picked up the empty glasses and head to the kitchen.

Miles was slowly drifting off to sleep in the chair.

Jamal led me back the hall toward my bedroom while Trevor followed along as far as the door to the room where Sybil was sleeping.

Jamal and I hesitated in the hall to watch as Trevor slid his clothes off and moved into bed with Sybil. She murmured as he turned her toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck. We quietly shut the door and continued on our way to the back bedroom. All was quiet in the condo.

I was certain my good Amigo was going to wake up in the morning with one big surprise followed by another. She would quickly begin to realize, as I did…she was now a very different woman.

Together Jamal and I checked on our baby. All was well so we went directly across the hall to my room leaving both doors open so I could hear little Dickson if he need me in the night.

Jamal quickly showed me how loving he could be. He was attentive to my every need and desire, spoken or unspoken. We showered together, he dried me carefully from top to bottom, literally, and we made our way into the large bed. Neither of us wore a stitch of clothing.

Jamal quickly proved several things to the new mother of his baby boy. First on the list he proved she had lost absolutely no sex appeal. I turned toward him as he found my enlarged breasts and distended nipples. I cannot describe the contentment as he tenderly embraced them. His enormous member found my vaginal lips and gently separated them as we climaxed together.

We drifted off to sleep together with my right nipple lost between his lips and our arms locked around one another.

I did hear some shuffling later, during the night, but it was not sufficient to wake me and Jamal was out like a light.

Around three in the morning I was awakened by a combination of my uncomfortable breasts and little Dickson’s quiet noises from across the hall which were telling me he was hungry. I wanted Jamal to rest. I knew how tired he must be. I snuck out of bed, put on the little blue robe, went across to find the baby, and move out to the living room to feed him. You would be amazed how in tune this little black guy and I had become.

As I passed down the hall I could not help but stop and check on Sybil. Her bedroom door was standing part way open. She was nude and soundly wrapped around Trevor. I could see little else, but I could hear heavy breathing. They were asleep together.

In the semidarkness I found the big easy chair and little Dickson and I began our loving little process. In no time, he was wrapped in my arms and I was actually half asleep as he fed.

As I sat there enraptured by his feeding, my eyes adjusted and I became aware that several guys were now sleeping on the couches or the floor. There must have been five of them, at least.

It took twenty minutes to finish with little Dickson and slip back down the hall…place a happy little Dickson in his crib…and quickly returned to the comfort of Jamal’s enormous arms. That was it for the night.

Morning light was streaming in the window when I was next awakened by stirring across the hall. Once again he needed me. Nothing he did was annoying. His were little noises of love. He needed me and I needed him. Even changing him was a delight. He was mine. I looked forward to being with him…and my breast appreciated his attentions as well. There was a large easy chair in his room so I opened my Caftan completely, sat down, and brought the little black lover to my breast. It was so private. I looked down at this perfect face in the morning light. I was still startled by the contrast of his little black body against mine. His blackness was a shock. His perfection was a reward.

No outsider seeing him for the first time would say he was anything but black and yet I could so easily pick out my features in his face…for example, the set of his eyes was Mandingo, wide and big and dark, but his nose was mine. His lips surrounding my right nipple said he was definitely related to Jamal, but his cute ears belonged to me.

Twenty minutes later little Dickson was comfortable and asleep. I place him back in his crib, wrapped my Caftan around my large beasts, and headed out of the room and down the hall toward the kitchen to get some breakfast.

There were three younger black guys still lounging on pillows in the living room. They startled me. I could not tell if they were sleeping or not. I quickly passed on through, without a word, to get a much needed cup of coffee from the kitchen.

Upon my return with the coffee one stood up and offered me a seat on the couch. Although no one had said a word it was clear it was best for me to stay. I rewrapped my Caftan around my nude body and sat down carefully. The one who had offered the seat sat close beside me, while one at a time the other two moved pillows over and lounged against the couch at my feet.

Nothing more was said. They seemed contented to just be close to me and watch as I sipped my coffee. There was no question that pride was written all over their faces.

I tried to recall if I knew them. After some study, I began to remember having been with each of them somewhere before, but couldn’t place it. As I continued with my coffee, I went through a very large inventory of black men who had sexed me and loved me during my summer at Bobby’s. None of them fit. These were strikingly younger with a rap gangsta look.

I was half way through my coffee before the one next to me identified himself as Matt’s younger brother, Charlie. I “knew” Matt very well from my summer “program”, but I Charlie was much younger.

Just that one piece of information began to tie thing together. A light bulb came on in my head. These were some of the black guys who had frequently approached the amigos at the mall. These were the young guys we teased, titillated and rejected many times. These were the young “criminal types” we had tittered about. “No way would any white girl ever do anything with something as low as them”.

I quietly asked a question of Charlie,

“Do all of you know me from the shopping mall?”

His face lit up.

He moved closer.

“We sure do.”

Then he began to talk about the many times they had followed my group at the mall. Charlie moved even closer as he began to describe how we white girls made them feel. He went on about how tempting our outfits were…how we walked…how we flirted and yet how unapproachable and untouchable we were. He went on about how tempting our outfits were…how we walked…how we flirted and yet how unapproachable and untouchable we were.

They would come on to us hoping they could get to know us, but they knew we would treat them like dirt. They knew we looked at them as the lowest form of life, black hoodlums, but they were so drawn to us and turned on they continued the chase, with the vain hope one of us would weaken and fall into their trap.

Charlie was not being mean in any way as he talked. In fact it was a sad story. They had very little to impress us with except their swagger and they so wanted to know us.

His comments turned to how things had changed. A smile crossed his face as he reached over, opened my caftan and found my breast. The two others seated on the floor moved closer. Together they described how conceited and distant we white girls had been in days gone by as they moved my legs apart and let their fingers play upward. A quiet moan escaped my lips. I knew they could do anything they wanted with me and I could not protest. The situation was such a turn on for me.

It was such a victory for them. I had been blacktized…knocked up black…sexed by a lot of different black guys…and had finally given birth to a black baby. I was sitting their nude under a very thin robe, having just breast fed my baby and now open and spread to their will. It was clear the tables had turned…Bobby had made sure that the blacks in the hood now owned me. I shuddered.

I could feel my face getting flush with erotic emotion.

There was such satisfaction in their voices as they remembered that I was the leader of the gang of conceited girls…the most seductive…the one in the middle…blond, blue eyes…a consummate flirt…the one that antagonized them the most and now I was the young mother of a black baby. They found it rewarding that with a nod from Bobby they could have me whenever they wanted.

While they were talking another tall young black quietly walked in from the bedroom and slid into an empty chair. He looked at us with a broad smile and fell back exhausted. One of the two fellows, resting on pillows at my feet, got up and headed back the hall toward the bedrooms. It was just too obvious. I had to say something to Charlie sitting beside me,

“Is he going back there to take a nap? Have you guys been here all night?”

He moved even closer and his right hand slid further under my Caftan to take my breast even firmer. I felt like his property. I had no desire to stop him. His hand gently lifted my enlarged breast and used it to turn me toward him a bit. The two guys on the floor looked up avidly as he took my distended right nipple between his fingers and gently pulled. I shuddered automatically and wrapped his black head in my arms positioning him the way I held little Dickson. His lips found me immediately and he tenderly worked away at me. After several minutes he released and looked up with a smile,

“My you taste good, Caroline. I could so easily take a nap right here in your beautiful arms. We are a tired bunch of niggers here this morning. Bobby has a train rolling in that back bed room which has been running all night. Every nigger here has been a passenger on the Sybil express. Mel there just went back to use up his third or fourth ticket.”

He laughed and settled down even closer to me.

I needed no more. It was clear my best friend, Sybil had been thoroughly blactized and was being used by all of them. In fact, now that I was more aware of what was going on, I could distinctly hear moans and other erotic sounds coming up the hall from her bedroom.

I asked Charlie.

“Is Bobby still here? Did he spend the night also?”

He snuggled to my breast,

“Naw…he got the train moving…and then went on his way after the third or fourth passenger had paid for a ticket. He knew she was on automatic pilot and the train would keep rolling all night. Tickets were free.”

He laughed and dropped his head to consume my breast again signaling the conversation was over.

The realization that these blacks now dominated me so completely, and the new knowledge that Sybil had joined me, created such erotic feelings for me.

I moved closer to Charlie making room for one of the others to join me on the other side. My hint was obvious. A moment later, I was between two very young, very black, very energetic, young men each treating me as if I were the most precious woman on earth. They opened my robe completely and came to my breasts like a pair of twins. I cuddled them lovingly as they enjoyed. I could not have found more kind considerate lovers and by the looks on their faces…they were most proud of their positions.

It was amazing how inconsiderate black gangstas thugs at the shopping mall could change into such gentlemen when loved. I looked down into their faces…their eyes were shut…slight traces of my lactate escaped around their lips…their black hands cradled my enlarged beast to the position they desired. Occasionally one would look up at me. Their expressions exhibited such pride. A blacktized white girl was such a prize, such a trophy and being close to her gave them such a personal promotion. They were winners. It seemed to change their entire outlook on life.

I was sitting between two of them, with two on the floor at my feet enjoying my spread legs, when Jamal came into the room from the hall. His wide smile quelled any anxiety I might have had. He came over, kissed me gently, and continued on to the kitchen for coffee.

SYBIL’S RETREAT

It was early afternoon when Bobby returned to the condo. I was in the living room on the couch. Baby Dickson was sound asleep back in his bedroom. I stood up as he came into the room and Bobby acknowledged me with a gentle hug and a sweet kiss.