Shanika and Manika at the Plantation Club
Shanika was puzzled as she got off the bus. She knew that her
interview at the Plantation Club wouldn't actually be on the premises,
but she wasn't expecting it to take place in a second floor office
over a row of shops in a suburban commercial district. She also felt
out of place here, only a few miles from the city where she lived, she
saw no black faces other than her own.
She was self conscious as she scanned the addresses, looking for the
number on the note she held in her hand. Passers by would glance
briefly in her direction and she walked down the sidewalk and then
look away. Shanika looked like an everyday African American woman,
dark brown eyes, chocolate complexion, collar length straightened
black hair in a stylish perm, and maybe a few extra pounds. She
wasn't used to drawing the attention of strangers this way. Hadn't
they ever seen a black woman before?
Finally she found the door with the right address on it. It was
between a diner and a hardware store and it opened onto a narrow
staircase. At the top of the stairs was a wooden door. A speaker box
with a button was mounted next to the door. Shanika pressed the
button.
A woman's voice came over the speaker. "May I help you?"
"Yes," Shanika spoke towards the speaker, "I have an appointment for
an interview."
"Your name, please?" replied the voice.
"Shanika Wilson."
There were a few moments of silence before she heard a buzzing sound
and the mechanical clicking sound of the lock. "Come in. I'll be
with you in a minute."
She opened the door and entered the room. There were no windows, only
another door. There was a small bench with what appeared to be
clothes hooks, much like in a fitting room. She sat nervously on the
bench to wait.
After a minute or two the other door opened and a light skinned black
woman came into the room. Shanika estimated her to be at least in her
forties. She had short cropped hair and was dressed like a
professional secretary.
"Good afternoon, Shanika. I am Yolanda Thomas. We spoke on the phone
yesterday. I hope you didn't have any trouble finding the office."
Shanika stood. "No, no trouble at all."
"Good. Now before we go any further I want to make sure you
understand the nature of the position you're interviewing for. What
do you know of the Plantation Club?"
"Well, my girlfriend told me it's like a theme park where white men
can make like they're in the old south or something like that. She
didn't know too much about it, she'd just heard it, that's all."
"Let me make it clear for you then," said Yolanda. "The Club caters
to white men who want the experience of being slave owners. We
recruit black women like you to serve as slaves. Once we accept you,
you will live at the club for the duration of your contract. You will
be well compensated at the end, but while in our service you will be
treated as a slave. You will perform manual labor, cooking and
cleaning, but primarily you will service our club members sexually.
Do you understand?"
Shanika was silent as she absorbed what she'd just heard. Yes, her
girlfriend had told her pretty much the same thing, but now the
reality was sinking in. She really needed the money though. All she
had to do was tough it out for a short time and she'd be set for much
longer.
"I understand," she replied.
"Good. Now I'm going to take you and introduce you to the manager,
Mr. Richards. Please remove your clothing," said Yolanda.
Shanika suddenly felt a knot in her stomach. "Excuse me? You want me
to take off my clothes?"
"That's right, missy." Yolanda was getting impatient. "I told you
your primary function at the club would be sexual. You'll be naked
most of the time, so if that's going to be a problem for you, you
might as well leave now. Mr. Richards will want to 'see the goods'."
Shanika thought for a moment and started slowly unbuttoning her
blouse. She'd actually put some thought into how she had dressed for
the interview. Somewhat businesslike, a little sexy. It turned out
that it wasn't going to make any difference.
"Come on, girl! I'm not looking for a strip tease! Get those clothes
off. Mr. Richards is waiting to see you." Yolanda crossed her arms
over her chest as she waited for the younger woman to disrobe.
Shanika removed her blouse and hung it on one of the hooks over the
bench. She slipped off her shoes and unzipped her skirt and stepped
out of it.
As she rolled her stockings down Yolanda spoke. "Now let me give you
some advice. Mr. Richards is 'old school' and you better treat him
with respect. You will follow his instructions promptly. You will
speak only when spoken to and answer his questions 'yes, sir' and 'no,
sir' when you do.
Her stockings now removed, Shanika unclasped her bra, revealing her
large, somewhat saggy, breasts. She couldn't look Yolanda in the face
as she proceeded to pull her panties down and stepped out of them.
She was now completely naked, standing before the older woman.
"Hmmm," said Yolanda thoughtfully as she looked Shanika up and down,
"you've got some meat on your bones. Don't worry about that, girl!
Mr. Richards is gonna like that!"
Shanika felt her face warm with embarrassment under Yolanda's gaze.
"Let's go." Yolanda opened the interior door and entered the corridor
on the other side. Shanika followed, flinching slightly as she heard
the door close behind her.
She felt very vulnerable as this woman she had just met led her naked
through the hall of the strange office suite. It was quiet. The only
sounds she could hear were the clicking of Yolanda's heels on the tile
floor, the soft slap of her own bare feet as she walked, and the
pounding of her heart in her chest.
Finally they arrived at their destination, a wooden door with a
frosted glass window. Shanika could hear a woman's voice through the
door. Yolanda knocked on the door and then opened it and walked in.
She looked back at Shanika and motioned for her to enter, too.
Sunlight streamed through the venetian blinds on the windows making
the room bright. There was a desk with a young blonde haired white
woman sitting behind it. She she looked up at Yolanda and glanced at
Shanika as she spoke on the phone. Shanika immediately looked away an
instant after their eyes met. The white woman was definitely younger
than Shanika and obviously slimmer. She couldn't have been more that
twenty two years old. The whole scene was quite ordinary other than
the fact that Shanika was buck naked standing there with two fully
clothed, professionally dressed women.
Shanika looked around the room and saw that there was no furniture in
the room other than the woman's desk and the chair she sat in. She
felt very self conscious even though neither of the two women were
paying her any attention. She shifted her weight from one foot to the
other.
As Yolanda stood quietly waiting for the white woman to finish her
phone conversation, she took notice of Shanika's restlessness. "Stop
fidgeting, girl!" she whispered, "stand still, eyes down!"
Another jolt of embarrassment made Shanika's cheeks feel hot again at
the older woman's rebuke. She looked down at her bare feet on the
carpeted floor.
Finally the white girl hung up the phone. "Hello, Yolanda," she said,
"what have we got here?" She looked over at Shanika's nude form,
standing with eyes downcast.
"A new girl for Mr. Richards to see, Miss Debbie. She's the one I
told you about yesterday."
"Hmmm..." Debbie continued to look Shanika up and down. "She's a
little plumpy..."
"Yes, ma'am, Miss Debbie, but I think Mr. Richards will like her,"
replied Yolanda. Shanika couldn't help but notice how Yolanda, old
enough to be her mother, was clearly subservient to this white girl
barely out of her teens!
"Well, Yolanda, you always seem to pick good ones!," laughed Debbie as
she stood up and came around from behind her desk. She walked around
Shanika, checking her out from the back. "I just don't understand
some men, girl. What guys see in a big assed colored girl like this,
I'll never know!"
"Anyways, " she continued, "I'll let Mr. Richards know she's here.
You can go now, Yolanda. That's all for now."
"Yes, ma'am," replied Yolanda. "Thank you, ma'am." Yolanda closed
the door behind her, leaving Shanika alone with Debbie. She didn't
know what else to do so she just kept looking down at her feet. She
could feel a cool breeze from the air conditioner on her bare skin as
Debbie continued to look her over.
After what felt to her like an eternity, Debbie opened the inner
office door and poked her head in. "Mr. Richards? Yolanda just
dropped a new nigger off for you to see."
Shanika was stunned at the matter of fact way Debbie referred to her
as a nigger! Like she wasn't even there listening to it!
"Good, Debbie. Send her in," said a male voice from the inner office.
Debbie stepped back from the door. "Go on in, girl," she said to
Shanika. "Mr. Richards will see you now."
Debbie stopped her as she approached the door. "Whoa, there, girl!"
she said. "What do you say to me?"
Shanika looked up to see the cross look on Debbie's face. What was
she talking about? Then she remembered Yolanda's exit. "Uh, thank
you, ma'am," she said quietly as she looked back down at the floor.
"Well, I guess that'll have to do for now," said Debbie with an air of
exasperation. "But you better learn to do better than that!" She
shook her head and sat back down behind her desk. "I swear...!" she
said to herself. Looking up, she noticed that the Shanika still stood
where she'd stopped. "Well... Get on in there, girl!"
"Yes, ma'am," Shanika said and proceeded through the door.
Mr. Richards was an older white man with greying hair. He was looking
over some papers on his desk as Shanika entered and stood just inside
the door. "Close the door," he instructed her without looking up.
She closed the door behind her and continued to stand quietly. She
was very aware of her nakedness as she waited for Mr. Richards to
finish what he was doing.
Finally, he turned towards her, looking her up and down. She felt his
gaze upon her as he eyed her full brown breasts, her large nipples and
areolas so dark they were almost black.
"Turn around," he ordered. She complied and he drank in the view of
her big black ass. "Not bad," he said, "not bad at all. Now spread
your legs and bend over."
Now, this was humiliating! Shanika had been embarrassed at her
nakedness up to now, parading her brown body around, but this was much
worse. She was being told to present herself like some kind of
animal! But she'd come this far and wasn't ready to give up. She did
as instructed, spreading her legs and bending over for this middle
aged white man.
"That's right," he said, "spread wider and grab your ankles. I want a
good look at you." Shanika heard him get up and step closer to her.
She felt his hand on her ass, rubbing on one cheek and then the other.
Finally he ran his hand down the crack of her ass, over her asshole,
then her pussy. Her legs shook a little as she felt his fingers on
her sex.
"Very nice. You are one fine negress. Yolanda sure can pick 'em."
Richards sat back down. "Stand up and turn around, girl. Keep those
legs spread and put your hands behind your head."
She did what she was told, turning and facing him with her legs spread
as far as she could while keeping her balance. She then placed her
hands behind her head, lacing her fingers together, never once looking
up at the man she was displaying her naked body for.
Richards looked her up and down, feeling his dick harden in his pants.
There'll be plenty of opportunity for that later, he thought. He
stared at her full black breasts and then down to the thick curly
black pubic hair on her crotch.
"Yes, you are one fine looking negress. Step closer to me." He
glanced up at her face as he reached out to caress her breasts.
"You've got a fine set of nigger tits, girl." He rolled one nipple
between his thumb and forefinger and then the other. He reached down
to her pussy. "Cunt's too hairy though. I don't like a bitch to have
a thick bush. It'll have to go."
He reached between the black girl's spread legs and pressed his hand
flat on her vagina. "Mmmm, nice and soft. Even with the bush," he
continued to talk to himself. Shanika felt a finger probe at her
opening. "Damn, girl! You're wet!" he chuckled.
She couldn't believe it, but it was true. This stranger examining her
most private parts, commenting on them like she wasn't there, was
actually getting her excited. She felt ashamed that being treated
this way was turning her on. She felt she had to say something, but
what? "Uh, I'm sorry, sir," was all she could come up with.
"Don't apologize for a wet pussy, girl," he looked up at her as he
continued to finger her. "No, don't be sorry at all. It's perfectly
natural. I've been in this business for years and I've learned that
nigger girls love to be handled this way. They might not like to
admit it, but I know it's true." He withdrew his finger from her
pussy and held it to her nose. "See? Anyone can tell."
Her nostrils filled with the scent of her musk. She wanted him to
replace his finger inside her and continue what he'd started. She was
very confused, humiliated by being treated like some kind of sexual
animal but aroused at the same time.
He sat back in the chair. She would just have to stay frustrated.
"You can stand at ease now." Shanika lowered her arms and stood with
her legs closer together.
"Let me explain how the Plantation Club works," he began. "Our
facility sits on hundreds of secluded acres where we have a main
house, kind of like a hotel for our members, as well as private
cabins. The members come to the club in order to enjoy a taste of the
way things used to be. A time when a white man could purchase a fine
negress like yourself and enjoy her services however he liked. Some
of the members bring their wives or girlfriends and we even have some
single white women as members.
"Slave girls are recruited and signed to contracts for providing
services for a fixed length of time. A weekend, a week, a month, even
a year or longer. At the end of the contract, they are paid and
provided transportation back to wherever they want unless they prefer
to stay on for another contract.
"Anyways, we bring them to the club where we get them ready for our
members. They're put on display for inspection by potential buyers
and then sold at auction. The slave's entire contract may be sold or
a day or anything in between. The high bidder pays for his purchase
and can then enjoy her services anywhere on the grounds: a room in the
main house, one of the private cabins, or even just out in the woods.
"Slaves serve their masters however the master desires. Most masters
use their slaves for sex and similar amusements. They are also used
as domestics, cooking and cleaning and whatnot, especially by longer
term masters.
"The slave girl must always remember her place in the order of things.
She must be obedient and respectful at all times. When given an order
you will carry it out immediately and to the best of your ability.
You will address your owner as "Master" or "Mistress" unless they
instruct you otherwise. You will address other white folks as "Sir"
or "Ma'am". You will not speak unless spoken to. Failure to follow
these rules will result in punishment. Never forget that you are just
a nigger to be used by your owner. You exist to serve him. Masters
are forbidden to seriously injure or disfigure slaves, but other than
that restriction, your body belongs to your master to do with as he
will.
"Do you understand?" asked Mr. Richards.
Shanika was still absorbing what had just been explained to her. She
was being asked to surrender her body, her whole person in fact
Surrender herself and just be a nigger to be used. The idea horrified
her and scared her. But there was a part of her that was excited by
it. She felt a tingle between her legs imagining herself as a slave.
Naked, examined by strangers and sold. Plus she was desperate for the
money.
"Yes, sir," she heard herself say. "I understand, sir."
"Excellent!" exclaimed Mr. Richards. He looked her naked black body
up and down slowly as he spoke, his eyes lingering on her chocolate
brown breasts.
"I think it wise to start with a short contract. Hopefully you'll
want to extend it, but it's best not to make commitments you may not
be able to keep. What do you say?"
"Yes, sir. I'll do that. Just a weekend." She couldn't believe she
was agreeing to this, but her desperation (and desire) got the best of
her.
"Fine, then," Mr. Richards said, "I'll have the contract drawn up
right away."
He got up and went to the door and opened it, calling out to his
secretary. "Debbie, draw up a weekend long contract for this nigger
and arrange her transportation to the club"
He turned to Shanika, "You may go now." He winked at her, "but I'm
sure I'll see you later."
"Thank you, sir," said Shanika as she stepped back into the outer
office. Once again she felt the coolness of the air conditioning on
her bare flesh. Her nipples were hard and she could still smell the
faint scent of her musk.
Debbie went to the filing cabinet and produced a form and a pen.
"Fill in your name here, the date here, and sign here," she said,
indicating the appropriate places on the form.
Shanika did as instructed and bent over Debbie's desk to sign the
document, her breasts hanging and swaying slightly as she wrote.
Debbie took the signed paper and filed it.
Turning towards Shanika, Debbie wrinkled up her nose, "Whew! I guess
you liked talking to Mr. Richards. I can smell that poontang from
here! Let me check. Open your legs for me, nigger," she demanded.
Not knowing what else to do and feeling completely at the power of the
young white woman's will she complied and moved her feet further apart
where she stood. Debbie looked Shanika in the eye as she reached
between the colored girl's legs and stroked her black pussy. Debbie
smiled as she felt how wet Shanika was.
"Mmmm, you like this, don't you?" cooed Debbie. "You like my hand on
your coochie, don't you, you black slut?" She then stuck her finger
into Shanika's vagina and at the same time kissed the surprised
colored girl on the mouth. The young white girl forced her tongue
between the negro's thick full lips. Shanika couldn't help feeling a
wave of pleasure at her touch and pushed her pussy towards Debbie's
hand, driving her finger in deeper.
"I think you and I will have some fun," said Debbie. She stepped
back, still smiling, and picked up the phone. "Yolanda! Get your
black ass in here and get this nigger ready to go to the club."
She winked at Shanika and hung up the phone. Then she reached out and
pinched her nipple. "Tell me you're a nigger slut. I want to hear
you say it." The white girl looked at her, still smiling, increasing
the pressure on her sensitive black nipple.
Shanika hung her head. "I'm a nigger slut, ma'am."
"That's right." Debbie let go of Shanika's nipple. "And you want me
to play with your nigger pussy, don't you?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well... ask me!" Debbie looked over her shoulder at Mr. Richards
office door. It was still closed. She looked back at Shanika.
"Don't be shy."
"Uh, please, ma'am. Please play with my nigger pussy." Shanika felt
a powerful wave of shame and desire. This white girl was purposely
humiliating her, but still she couldn't deny the pleasure she was
feeling.
Just then there was a knock at the door.
"Too bad!" laughed Debbie. "No time now. You have to get going. But
I'll see you tonight. For sure."
Yolanda poked her head in. "Are you done with her now, Miss Debbie?"
"Yup, take this nigger away."
"Let's go, girl," Yolanda told Shanika.
They left Debbie's office. Shanika could still feel the heat of shame
on her face as well as the wetness between her legs from her encounter
with Debbie. The two black women walked down the hall, with only the
clicking of Yolanda's high heels and the sounds of Shanika's bare feet
on the linoleum floor breaking the silence. At last they reached the
reception room where Shanika's clothes were as she had left them.
"Get dressed," ordered Yolanda, who stood watching Shanika's every
move as she put her clothes back on. She felt as if she had been
naked for much longer than the short time she actually was there.
"Go home and get ready to spend the weekend away. Don't worry about
packing anything. The club will provide anything you'll need.
There'll a van here tomorrow morning to pick you up in front of the
door to the street. Be here by ten o'clock," Yolanda instructed.
"You may show yourself out now." At that Yolanda left through the
door that led back to the offices where Shanika's "interview" had
taken place, and she was alone.
Shanika finished dressing and left. She felt as if she were in a
dream as she went down the stairs, out the door, and onto the street.
It seemed as if every person she encountered on her way to the bus
stop was looking at her, knowing what she had just done, knowing what
she was about to do...
Shanika at the Plantation Club
by Neal <bboy4x@yahoo.com>
Chapter 2 - The Journey
Shanika arrived the next morning with plenty of time to spare. Not
having been instructed as to what to wear, she just wore jeans and a
tee shirt. She was very nervous, but excited. The van parked in
front of the door to the office looked like a delivery truck, not a
passenger van. A white man who appeared to be about Shanika's age was
behind the wheel reading a newspaper.
"Excuse me, sir," she said, "I'm supposed be meeting someone here for
a ride"
The driver looked up from the newspaper, slowly looking Shanika up and
down. "I see. And what are you supposed to be?" he asked, continuing
to let his eyes rove over Shanika's form.
It took a momement for her to understand the question properly. She
glanced around to see who might be listening. There were people
about, walking down the sidewalk, just going about their business. No
one seemed to be paying her any attention other than the occasional
glance. Like yesterday, she was the only black.
Looking down, she replied quietly, "A nigger, sir."
"Hmmm," he smiled, "A nigger, eh? Any special kind of nigger?"
Remembering her exchange with Debbie the day before, Shanika had a
pretty good idea what the right answer was. But saying it to some
stranger while she stood in the street wasn't easy.
Barely audible, she spoke the words she thought he wanted to hear. "A
nigger slut, sir."
The driver was clearly enjoying Shanika's discomfort. "What was that?
You'll have to speak up, girl."
"A nigger slut, sir," she spoke clearly and looked up into his
grinning face.
"Well," he said, "you ain't the only nigger slut today and they ain't
all here yet," he said as he opened the door and stepped out. "You
might as well make yourself comfortable." He led Shanika around to
the back of the van which had double doors with no windows. The
bumper served as a step. He opened one of the doors. There was a
black curtain just inside the door that she couldn't see past.
"Get in," he instructed.
The driver watched as she did as she was told and climbed into the
back. It was dark, and after the bright daylight outside she couldn't
see very well.
"Strip," the driver ordered her. "Niggers don't need no clothes. Put
'em in one of them boxes. You'll get 'em back afterwards."
She looked around the back of the van. A couple of empty cardboard
boxes were on the floor along with a few closed ones. Then she looked
back out the door where the driver stood with his hands in his
pockets, waiting for her to disrobe. Even though it was so much
darker inside the van than outside, she wasn't sure passersby couldn't
see her.
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