Isobel 3 - Learning the Rules

She wished her friend Zoe was here. The problem was that being in the house alone you couldn't help your mind pursuing certain avenues. You also had absolutely no incentive not to spend all day reading erotic stories and watching video clips that you might just have found on that self-same Zoe's lap-top.

There were a lot of things she wanted to ask Zoe. That instinct came naturally to Isobel since she was after all a trained journalist, if a (hopefully temporarily) chronically under-employed one.

She had been sent a little researching job but how did you get your head around that with all that was going on? Her sister had been in touch just to make sure that everything was OK. She'd reassured her, of course, had done so almost without thinking. The house hadn't burned down, there hadn't been a hurricane, everyone was fit and healthy. Of course her step-daughter Zoe had got a boob-job and was deep into a scene of interracial porn and pregnancy risk sex. Something Zoe unwittingly shared, courtesy of last night, with Isobel herself.

She hadn't told her sister any of the last pieces of news of course. If she had been going to tell on Zoe then she would have done so long before this. It had only in fact been a couple of weeks since she had made her first discoveries but those two weeks seemed like an age to Isobel now.

The morning had been easier. Quite apart from anything else she had been setting up her phone to record her new exercise routine. The man had been god to his word and had sent her a thirty minute program. Heavy on the squats and the leg work. She had thought herself in pretty good shape but that routine had been hard to get through. It had left her limbs aching but she knew that with time it would get easier. They always said 'no pain no gain' but just exactly what was she trying to gain here?

She didn't really want to admit that part to herself. However, the fact was that she had checked the video of herself exercising and had then sent it off. It was all being done to please a man and not just any man. An African-American man whose name she did not know but who was certainly involved with Zoe and with the people behind all of those stories and videos of interracial sex.

She knew that and she knew that she wasn't supposed to act like this. It didn't matter though. She still sent that video off and she still found herself desperately hoping that it would please him. This man who she knew only as 'Sir.'

Through the day she couldn't keep her mind off him. Had found herself thinking out scenario after scenario, following each thread to a conclusion and then thinking it through again and again. She hadn't felt like this since she had been a teenager experiencing her first crush. The comparison embarrassed her as an adult woman but that fact couldn't shake her fascination with the man and what lay behind him.

Finally the clock ticked round to close to the agreed time and she was in position in front of her lap-top a good ten minutes early with the connection established. She had remembered his comments about punctuality.

The clock kept moving but the holding screen remained stubbornly unmoving. A minute, two minutes, even five minutes. She was annoyed but more than that she was very disappointed. She had been waiting for this moment all day. Had something gone wrong?

After six minutes the screen flashed into a familiar image. A dark hand on a wooden desk-top. A familiar deep voice came over her speakers.

"Well done girl. I enjoyed your video and I noticed you were here good and on time."

'More than you were,' she couldn't help thinking but was careful not to say. However, perhaps her face gave her away.

He reacted with a gentle amused laugh. "You know how many time-wasters and wannabes we get? How many fakers and catfish? I been here since the hour and I been watching you. Just like I watched your video and saw you was doing things right. Putting in the work. You're doing good so far but if you want to be selected you need to be keeping that up. You was kinda late to the party but, well, you got a lot going for you. You gotta look that I and a lot of the brothas really appreciate you know what I mean."

Isobel felt a rush of pleasure at his words and inwardly cursed herself. It was ridiculous to react so to words he had probably said to a thousand women. However, the flush of pleasure was undeniable.

His gentle laugh came over the speakers again. "You blushing girl. Shit you gonna have more to blush about before we done." He tapped a finger on his desk. "Now like I said we ain't got no time to waste. Pretty faces ain't so uncommon. Might even have more than one nice juicy whooty being lined up for the next season. Anyway let's get down to business. Got any ink or piercings?"

"I don't have any tattoos or really any piercings. Oh, except my ears of course."

"OK - now's the time to prove that girl. You know how."

She had taken some time deciding what to wear for him tonight. Beyond just the tight exercise leggings that she knew would show her rear-end off to the max. Well that time had apparently been wasted because she knew just what he wanted. She had known this time would come and she had prepared herself for it.

Isobel stood up and eased her chair back. She took off her top and then eased herself out of her tight leggings. Then she faced the camera again wearing only her bra and panties.

"You think I want half-measures?" That was his only response.

Again she understood. This man and the people with him had never shown any sign of settling for anything but 100% of what they wanted and demanded.

She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra letting it fall to the floor. Then she eased her panties down until she could step out of them. Now she was naked and now she could face the screen again.

The only response from him was a casual rotation of a dark finger on the screen. Again she understood him. She slowly turned round allowing him to examine her from all angles.

"You don't disappoint girl. What was your name? Isobel. Cute name for a real fine piece of white tail. You got a booty for the ages but maybe a little light in the titty department. Still that's easily put right. Good to see you really ain't got no ink - amazing how many white girls think a little butterfly or unicorn or some such shit don't count."

"You don't like tattoos?" She was surprised given at least one of the videos she had seen. However, of course, she had to remember that she wasn't supposed to have seen that.

"Love to see a girl with plenty of ink - just so long as it's our ink." The emphasis he put on the word 'our' could not be missed or misunderstood. "You got a damn fine skin-tone. Pale till it kinda glows. The sort that looks real good when a Black man is fucking you."

She tried not to react to the crudeness of his last words. It shouldn't have been a surprise - it was absolutely obvious that whatever else was going on here this was about Black men fucking white women. That was why he was here. That was why Zoe had got involved with him. That was why...

A part of her mind tried to cut off the train of thought there but it failed. Whatever else she had told herself that was why she was here too. That was why she had read all of those stories and watched all of those videos. They had awakened something long suppressed in her.

"You like that idea." The amused tone was in his voice again but this time he really did surprise her. Could he read her mind? She looked down in a little confusion and saw her nipples standing hard and proud. It was a warm room but he didn't need to know that. This man knew his trade and knew the signals. Her nipples were probably only the most blatant sign of her arousal, of what his words and actions were doing to her and had been doing to her over the whole day.

"I'm guessing by the ring you ain't no virgin - technically at least. So you ever been with a Black guy?"

"No. My ex-husband is white as I said and so were my boyfriends at home and college."

"So you never been fucked for real?"

She gave a moment's thought to her husband and to the earlier fumblings of her first boyfriends. "No. No, I've never been really fucked."

His voice was relaxed. Just a tide of molten rich chocolate washing through her speakers and into her ears and mind. A voice that spoke of total confidence and total control. He didn't demand anything of her and she knew why. He already knew that she would give him everything he wanted and in return...

In return she would get what? She didn't know and something told her that perhaps he hadn't decided yet. However, she knew with all of her soul that she was desperate to find out.

"You want to be fucked, you want to be Blacked?"

"Yes." The word came amazingly easily. As if it was the most natural confession in the world.

"Since how long?"

"The last couple of weeks I haven't really been able to concentrate on anything else. Since I found out about you."

"And before then?"

"Before then," now she did struggle to put her thoughts into words, "before then I didn't want to admit it."

"Why not?" His voice was still smooth and full of assurance but that didn't hide the probing nature of his question. She wasn't going to be allowed to evade saying it.

"I was brought up... Well it was just understood that white girls shouldn't have anything to do with... black guys."

"Who was saying that to you?"

"Everyone - you know it was just understood." She repeated the phrase as if that made it any better. As if he would find that any more acceptable this time.

"I'm guessing it was white guys and their girls told you that. I'm guessing they didn't call us Black guys or African-Americans either. What did they call us girl?"

She almost squirmed on her feet, grimly aware of her nakedness and not just in the sense of being unclothed. He wanted her to say it though she hated the word.

"I'm not comfortable using that word."

"Damn right and you shouldn't be. Not unless a Black man wants you to. So you ain't calling me that word - so what word are you calling me?"

"Sir." She was rewarded by his low rumbling laugh through her speakers.

"So no ink and just the ears pierced. You always wear studs?"

"Not always," she replied, "but unless its a special occassion."

"Always been partial to a nice big pair of hoops myself. Tells you something about a girl if she can wear them."

She had never worn hoops. They looked tacky to her - way too showy, calling attention to yourself. She decided to keep that particular opinion to herself and happily he changed the subject again.

"You watch that video I sent you?"

She nodded, He had sent her a video just as he had previously sent many videos to Zoe. It had been interracial sex of course but with a certain twist. "Was it for real?"

"Everything we do is for real girl. That's why anyone involved needs to know the nature of the game. There ain't no fronting from us and we expect the same from you."

She hadn't ever really doubted that what she had seen was real. The ovulation test, the sex, the creampie and the casual talk of 'breeding' and pregnancy. Most of all the camera focused on the young woman's face. Those pictures really had fulfilled the cliché. They really were worth thousands of words. Someone like Isobel couldn't help but understand that she had never felt anything like that young woman was feeling in the moment. The intensity of it, the emotional power and evidently the pleasure.

"So what did you think?"

"It was hot." She paused a moment and then decided to be honest. "I wondered what it would be like to be where she was."

"Yeah, is that right?" In that moment she knew that he had seen through her last comment. He knew that she hadn't just wondered what it would be like. He knew that she had wanted to be there, in the young woman's place. He had known that because otherwise she would have turned the video off and failed to show tonight. The fact she was here now told him all that he needed to know. That was why he had sent the video in the first place.

"So how did you watch it?" His voice was casual but it was obvious that he was enjoying himself. She sensed that he was a man who took pleasure in every moment of a woman like Isobel confessing the truth about herself.

"I masturbated. It was, er, very good." That sounded weak but she wasn't used to discussing such things.

"With your hand or with a toy?"

She moved over to her draw and the returned to the front of the camera showing her little pink vibe.

There was his laugh again. "Maybe we can find you something more appropriate. Expect a delivery tomorrow. Meanwhile remember to do your exercises and send me that vid. Like to see a girl work for her reward. Same time tomorrow."

The connection ended and she was left standing naked in the middle of her room holding her vibrator and looking at her laptop screen. She glanced at the clock and was surprised by how long they had been online. It had only seemed like a couple of minutes.

Her machine gave a message notification. From him of course. A couple of links. The first to a site carrying thousands of stories. The second to another with hundreds of video clips. The latest posted only a few minutes before. Now she knew how Zoe had got all of her stash of porn. It hadn't all been sent to her. She had found it here and then selected what spoke to her. That made all the stories and clips she had been reading and watching over the last two weeks that bit more personal, that bit more visceral.

Videos were fine but maybe she was strange in that she preferred the stories. They made their own images inside of her mind. She scanned the lists and wondered where to begin. Well, first she began by putting her top back on and going to get a skirt. Her panties stayed on the floor and her vibe stayed right to hand. She knew she would have use for it this evening. Especially when she saw the title of one particular story.

***

'"Thank you Gregor."'

'Lady Caroline glanced up and saw her driver's eyes in the rear-view mirror. Gregor was impeccably loyal and unquestioningly discreet. It would not be wise to leave a vehicle like hers in a locale like this but Gregor would take it and return as usual.'

'She found her little hand-held mirror. Just a little routine at moments like this. She checked her make-up and thought a moment before applying a fresh application of lipstick. Selected especially for today its vibrant scarlet contrasted pleasingly with her pale skin-tone and her long blonde hair.'

'She smiled at her image - pleased by the effect. She liked to think that she knew what was appropriate for the occassion. That was why she was wearing an outfit she had originally bought to wear at Board meetings. After today it was unlikely to ever fulfil that role but she knew what was expected of her.'

'You could not, after all, hide who you were. She was Lady Caroline Travers and while that did not make her an aristocrat, whatever so many of her American friends thought, it did mean she had been married to Sir Geoffrey Travers. Knighted for fifty years of 'services to industry' also known as being able to sell loads of cheap crap for more than it was worth.'

'She had given Sir Geoffrey two of her best years and had never stinted in her wifely duties. A dedication that had sadly proved too much for his octogenarian heart but at least the old man had died happy. Of course there had been claims that she was a gold-digger. Such a suggestion! Just because a beautiful young woman in her mid-twenties had married a very wealthy man in his mid-eighties. People did rush to such conclusions! Another three years making sure her beloved husband's last will and testament had survived the jealousy of his children and she had found herself still young but now free, single and quite startlingly wealthy.'

'It hadn't taken long to discover that business and the expected social activities bored her horribly. Even her relocation to the good old United States had only provided a temporary respite. Temporary, that was, until she had made a discovery or two.'

'One of them was Gustav. Six foot five of blue-eyed, ash-blond haired, muscular Adonis. Anyone observing from the outside no doubt thought they understood why she had hired him. They couldn't be more wrong. Gustav was much more valuable to her than that. Hadn't he told her about this place?'

'She stepped out onto the sidewalk, noting the broken paving and the resilient weeds pushing up between them. She walked carefully the few required yards, her heels and those crooked paving slabs were not a match made in heaven. She reached a door notable only for the paint peeling from its exterior and a bell-push. She raised a long, elegant, finger and depressed the button.'

'At the same moment she heard the self-satisfied purr of her vehicle as it started. The DB12 eased off on its journey back downtown. She knew that Gregor had been watching her until he had seen the door open. Now she was on her own. Just as she desired.'

'The door had clicked open but she had to put a hand against it to make it open fully. She stepped out of the glare of early May sunlight and into a lobby stained from decades of nicotine. There was an ancient television noiselessly showing some sports event or other and a monitor showing the world outside of that front door but the man was looking at her.'

'She knew that look. Any woman as attractive as Caroline knew that look. Two things struck you immediately about the man. He was obese and he was African-American. Grey hairs showed out of the top of a stained wife-beater. Strangely contrasting with two heavy gold chains worn around his neck. His beard was grey too but his head shaved. His eyes were almost hidden in folds of fat but she saw them glitter and then he smiled, showing three gold-capped teeth.'

'"You the one that Gregor called about?" His voice was lazy and heavily accented - at least to her English ears. "Well he didn't lie none about you. Real nice. But I'm running a business here." He held out one hand.'

'Caroline had left her bag safely in the DB12. It was Gucci after all. She was also well aware that places like this did not deal with cards. For them it was strictly a cash economy. She reached inside her jacket for the agreed sum of money in crisp bills and handed it over.'

'For the first time she saw a smile flicker across the man's face. He heaved himself up off his chair and moved round to casually push the outside door shut from he inside. There was a clear click but he turned the handle anyway and tested it.'

'The door was locked now and the man's smile broadened. He reached into his own pocket and produced a long strip of dark material. A pudgy finger indicated that she should turn her back to him. Caroline hesitated but the man just shrugged.'

'"That's fine but there ain't no refunds. You best be knowing that. If you're wanting I'll let you out but looking like that you'd best be hoping that driver of yours gets back fast. Not everyone around here is as friendly as me." His eyes were hard and his smile was a fixed one. It was clear that this was a man who couldn't abide fools and time-wasters.'

'She looked into his eyes. Gregor had recommended this place even if he had said it would be a step up from her previous adventurous evenings. She was beginning to understand what he had meant but she had also come to trust his judgement.'

'"What do you need me to do?" After asking the question she tried to meet his gaze. The man's flab made him look soft but such first impressions could lead you very much astray.'

'He stroked his chin with one hand and finally nodded. "OK then. First, I need you to turn around and take off that jacket. Second, from now on you just do as you're told and I guarantee you'll get your money's worth. Understand me girl?"'

'Lady Caroline Travers was not used to being called 'girl' but now was not the time to stand on ceremony and she knew it. Instead she turned round and removed her jacket. The man was in no hurry now - he knew she would do what he wanted. He carefully took her jacket and hung it up. Only then did he move back behind her. She was momentarily aware of the dark material moving over her head and then it was placed over her eyes. A pressure on her face and head told her he was fastening the blindfold into place. Then his hand grasped her own and there was a metallic click. A moment later the process was repeated for her left hand and she realised they had been handcuffed behind her back.'

'He was moving around her and then she heard him speak - but not to her. "Anyone out there can get here in the next hour we got this fine piece of ass here. As you can see she's a premium chassy and she's available for your entertainment on the usual basis. All members served and none turned away."'

'From his tone she understood that he was talking on his phone after sending out images or even video of her. She felt her heart beating fast. There was no turning back now.'

'A hand in the small of her back guided her forward and she allowed herself to be led through at least two seats of doors and into the building. Finally she felt the movement of air as a curtain was drawn aside.'

'"Fuck yeah - thass what I'm talking about."'

'"About time - she best be ready to suck some dick."'

'"Get the cuffs off her you old bastard. She gonna need her hands, mouth and all she got before tonight's out."'

'At least three people, perhaps more it was hard to tell. All deep, gruff, masculine voices. The first man was laughing behind her as he unlocked the hand-cuffs. "Enjoy - I'll be sending the rest down as they arrive."'

'She sensed him leaving but immediately another presence was there behind her and strong arms grasped her. It would have been pointless to resist even if she had wanted to. The new man hustled her forward a few steps and then down onto her knees. She braced for contact with the floor but found herself landing on something almost padded. A yoga mat perhaps?'

'As she was accustoming herself to her new position something gently tapped her in the face. Blindfolded or not she was in no doubt what it was. The feel and warmth of flesh, too big for a finger.'

'Lady Caroline knew what she was there for. She opened her mouth and the first cock of many that evening slid inside. Only then did the man holding her hands release them. She brought them up and almost immediately felt an anonymous stranger's cock against each. A gentle exploration with her fingers and soon she was jacking a cock in each hand while her lips and tongue worked on a third. She heard the clink of belts being undone and knew more men were getting ready for her.'

'The man behind her undid the first button of her blouse. Then his fingers fumbled with the second. "Fuck this," was growled into her ear and then she felt a pressure as he gripped her blouse and pulled hard. There was a ripping sound and two or three buttons pinged off onto the floor. She gasped on the cock in her mouth but still kept wanking and sucking. The ruined garment was gone now and big rough hands grasped her breasts. Squeezed them hard as calloused skin rubbed over her sensitive nipples."'

'The man in her mouth seemed to like her titties. She heard a grunt and spurts of his warm, viscous, cum were filling her mouth. She swallowed as quick as she could even though she knew that was probably setting a bad precedent There would be a lot of cocks and a lot of cum tonight.'

'"Fuck yeah - gimme that cum," she gabbled, words running into each other in her hurry. Then another cock was at her lips and she opened her mouth to take him in.'

'The men were laughing around her. Had there been four originally? Well there were certainly more than that now. Hands pulled her back onto her feet. One heel slipped and she almost fell but many hands held her up. Her heels were pulled off and she felt her bare feet on the floor. Hands and fingers were all over her breasts and body. Her skirt didn't last long and soon her panties were round her ankles. They weren't just going to settle for a mouth and hands. She had known that from the beginning. These were the kinds of men who wanted all that she could give them. That was, after all, why she was here.'

'She felt the prickle of a man's beard on her belly. Then he adjusted his position and his tongue was licking her just where she liked it. She arched her back and groaned her approval but there was a cock in her mouth and she was here to serve.'

"Fuck it you always wanting to spend an age eatin' pussy Floyd. Can't you see the bitch is wet and ready. She all in fuckin' heat. Either fuck the ho or stand aside and let a man go to work."'

'The words had been crude and demeaning but Lady Caroline only felt the warmth of desire surge through her to new heights. These men knew how to get what they wanted and they wanted her. She gasped and had to concentrate to keep her mind on sucking and jacking the cocks. She was here to serve and then, only then, she could take her own pleasure. Hard cock pushed against her body and then pushed inside her. Now she had to pause and cry out. More cheers and laughs from the men around her. The feel of warm liquid against her face and breasts. Men were cumming on her. Maybe they didn't have much time or they had a wife at home. Maybe they would hang around and fuck her later when they had their second wind. She hoped so.'

'The man fucking her wasn't wasting time either. There were lots more waiting their turn and she was a beautiful little ho even if she said so herself. He fucked her hard, almost frantically and then his hands grasped her hips even harder. His fingers would be leaving marks there just as his cock was shooting a big load as deep into her as he could.'

'Her body reacted to that rush of seed. She gasped for air and her legs shook but many strong hands held her up, held her in place. So the next man could push home. He felt larger but he slid home easily. Like her pussy was made for him.'

'Another strong bodily reaction to that thought. A memory of the other man's words. That she was 'in heat'. She had explored many sexual adventures since the unfortunate demise of her husband. Free to experiment and to test the boundaries of desire. Nothing had ever felt like this. Nothing had ever come close to its intensity, to its visceral reality. She felt the climax surge and peak, had to hang on for dear life as the emotion claimed ever part of her.'

'A man laughed and a cock was jammed into her mouth. "Back to work girl. You got a lotta men to please and these ain't no limp-dicked crackas from the Hamptons. You're in H-Town girl and we got a lotta H-Town cock and H-Town cum for ya."'

'As if on cue the man behind her grunted and she felt the familiar grip of hands on her body and the deep, plunging thrusts of a man cumming in his woman. "Fuck yeah," gasped a new voice, "thass filled that pussy good. Best be on extra strength pills girl cos I've already got five kids back at home."'

'She hardly even felt the next man's cock claim ownership of her. His words had taken her to another level. She had identified this evening's new intensity and reality and those words only confirmed the cause. The knowledge that she had stopped taking the pill a couple of months ago and had kept herself for them since then. The fact that she had timed this experiment for the moment when her body would be the most receptive, the most ready to grant their seed its due tribute.'

'She shook her head and someone had the brains to understand her gesture. The blind-fold was wrenched off and the sudden light momentarily kept her blind. She blinked and then, right on cue, some fucker shot his load all over her pretty face, closing up her right eye. There was a cheer and then another, maybe two more men, followed suit. She had to snort cum out of her nose, blinked desperately to try to clear the cum in both eyes. It took a while but it really didn't matter. She had seen enough in those few moments of clear vision. The men surrounding her were all African-American. Even those sat back and watching. The men who had already shot their loads and were resting up ready for round two.'

'She automatically reached for two fresh Black cocks and offered her mouth for another. A body slammed hard against hers and she knew that next load of premium African seed had been quick in coming. She suddenly felt a little devilment in her and paused sucking cock. "Be careful guys - I'm not on the pill at the moment."'

'She had expected a reaction but the laughter and cheers were the loudest she had heard from them that night. Two of the old bastards who had already shot their loads deep inside her even high-fived. She didn't care. It was good that they enjoyed her so long as they were giving her what he needed.'

'Only one man didn't join the celebration. He was the one getting his cock sucked and he'd have had her attention anyway. He had the biggest and the Blackest cock she had ever seen and she had seen a lot of cock in the last couple of years. It was long and thick and it filled her mouth real good. She gave him his due but was careful not to use all of her little tricks on him. She didn't just want to feel this big Black cock in her mouth.'

'His hand gently tipped her face up, careful to avoid the streaks of cum all over her face and hair. Her light blue eyes met his deep brown ones. Noticed the slight wrinkles around them. "Don't worry about nothing girl. If it's meant to be then you're already knocked up for sure. Gonna have H-Town babies filling out that flat white belly and sucking on them fine white titties. Just like its meant to be. So just relax and enjoy."'

His voice was calm, deep and resonant. Strangely reassuring if Caroline had been in any need of reassurance. She understood the concept of risk, enjoyed it to the full. As a gambler you should only stake what you were fully prepared to lose. She knew that and she lived by that rule - even tonight. She went to suck his big cock again but couldn't resist from asking him one question.

'"You are going to fuck me?"'

'A complaisant low rumble of a laugh in response as she took him all the way into her mouth. "Satisfaction guaranteed girl. Do my best to make sure you always remember tonight."'

'Lady Caroline already knew she wouldn't quickly forget tonight. She also knew something else. Whatever the results might be she would be coming back.'

***

Isobel was breathing hard, her mind racing with images and imaginings. That had to have been her favorite story to date and her little pink vibe hadn't really done it justice. Not that she was anything like Lady Caroline or that she would really want to be in such a situation. However, it was a hot scenario. A girl could fantasize couldn't she?

It had really hit home when it turned out the story was set in H-Town. She doubted there were such places there. That might be too much even for that city with its amazingly sketchy reputation. Of course Zoe went to college in that same city, if in a rather more salubrious district. Indeed to judge by their two brief phone calls Zoe was there now and Zoe, of course, was in close contact with the people behind these stories. That realisation set her mind racing along certain rather taboo lines.

She shook her head and pushed such thoughts away. It was time to go for her daily jog now that the rain had stopped.

***

The parcel had arrived early that afternoon. Express delivery of course. She had recognised the style of the packing immediately. Just like those that Zoe had been receiving.

The contents shouldn't have been a surprise. Except that the box was rather larger than she would have thought necessary. She took it to her room and opened it.

The first item was a sex-toy in its sealed packaging. She removed it and examined it. It was six inches long and jet black in color. 'Sir' could not be accused of being subtle in his messaging. She put the toy onto charge.

The second item had wrapped the toy. It was a packaged T-shirt. mainly white but carrying the 'Queen of Spades' logo prominently and the words -

'WHITE SLUT

IN

TRAINING'.

There was a note too.

'Wear this in town today. Have a video for me this evening.

Your Master.'

She hadn't really planned to go into town today but she guessed she could get some groceries while she was there. She was well along that line of thought before she pulled herself up short. She wasn't going to be wandering around Main Street wearing that top and its message for all to see!

An hour later she was in town but on the trip over she decided to make a second stop. It was only a small family-run jewellers and most of its trade was in rings but looking in the window she saw what she wanted. Nothing too flash or expensive but she hoped they would do.

Then it was on to the grocery store. Selecting what she needed and keeping an eye out for the opportunity she required. Fortunately things were not too busy. She paused as if to check her phone in one of the less frequented parts of the store. In fact she had it set up to take her required video. Conveniently it also allowed her to check out what was behind her. A shelf-stacker and a couple of customers but no-one paying the slightest attention to her. She quickly undid her coat and held it open so that her phone could clearly see the T-shirt and its provocative message. In the moment she paused to lift the bottom of the T-shirt a little and hold it up to show her flat, toned, belly. The camera's lens caught the glint of the store's lighting on her wedding ring. She felt that was plenty brave enough and readjusted her clothing. Pausing only to blow a kiss to her camera she headed for the check-out.

Isobel half-expected to feel an arm on hers or a voice in her ear. Someone taking her to task for lewd behaviour in the store. However, nothing happened. It seemed that no-one had noticed and it was only way too late that she realised that she had almost certainly been covered by a security camera. Way too late to do anything about it and way too late for regrets. She just had to hope that any angle wouldn't have given her away too much.

She hadn't wanted to be caught of course but it was undeniable that it added a rush of excitement to a shopping trip! Her heart was still beating fast and she had to giggle to herself as soon as she got back to her vehicle in the parking lot. Just knowing that you were wearing something like that, even if no-one could see it, was quite something.

***

"Did you check out the links I sent you?"

She was still wearing her 'White Slut in Training' T-shirt but now with nothing covering it or beneath it. Isobel felt her nipples stiffen against the material as she recollected the story she had read. "I did - I enjoyed the stories. I hadn't enough time for the videos."

"Yeah I guess we're fast-tracking you a little. Your application was kind of late but premium grade white pussy gets put to the front of the line."

She presumed he said that to get a reaction out of her and she knew that if that was the case he was succeeding. He was a man who knew women and he certainly knew how to read their responses. The little signs that told him she was rather more into this than she would ever have imagined.

"So you see any stories you liked in particular?"

She tried to recall a title of one of the less outrageous ones but realised it was a wasted effort. She had checked out the stories on their site and perhaps her visit had been logged. If so they would know where she had spent all of that time. It was safer to just be honest. "I really enjoyed the story about Lady Caroline. I sort of found myself wishing there really were places like that!"

Her laugh of assumed bravado was joined by his rolling bass. "The story and the main character are made up, they are pure fiction, but the club is based on a place over here. That's real enough. Ask the right people and they could point you to that door." His hand, all that she had ever seen of him, made a casual pointing gesture. Clearly he was one of 'the right people.'

"I don't think I'd be brave enough for that." Her laugh this time was a little more forced, less convincing.

"Person never knows what they is capable of until the time comes. I'm sure you'd get a warm welcome there."

It wasn't hard to imagine the nature of the 'welcome' and Isobel was sure that the blood was showing in her cheeks now. Betraying just how much she enjoyed her time with him.

"So you just read it?"

He knew that she hadn't. Just as surely as if he had watched a camera on her at that moment. "No - I...," she paused, "... I masturbated while I read it." She felt a certain shame in admitting it. She was a grown woman - she shouldn't be so prey to her fantasies, especially fantasies like that.

"My gift get there in time."

"No but I had my old vibe."

"Show me."

It was an outrageous request but she didn't hesitate. She got up and walked to her draw where she found her vibe, nicely washed and neatly put away. She returned to her chair and held it up to the camera.

"Now you got mine. Hold them both up."

His toy was in its box on the desk and she quickly retrieved it and followed his instructions. The contrast was obvious, even blatant. The new toy was much larger and very much darker.

"Good girl. Now put them back on the desk and stand up for me. Time we had your training season since you're wearing that new shirt of yours. What's that shirt say you are girl?"

"A white slut." Her voice was quiet despite the fact that she was alone in the house with no chance of anyone over-hearing her.

"Now that's a real hesitant answer." His tone was playfully accusatory. "Just like you was real careful how you followed my instructions over in town earlier on. Like you think being a white slut is a bad thing. Well I'm telling you that from my angle a white slut is pretty much the best possible thing you could be. Let's face it if you wasn't one you wouldn't be here right now and that would be a real waste. So tell me again - what are you girl?"

"I'm a white slut sir." Her voice was clearer this time. Still not loud but it seemed sufficient for the moment.

"I like you in that shirt but I like you better without it." Isobel understood the meaning of his laconic phrase and pulled the t-shirt up over her head. It had been a good idea to wear nothing under it.

"Seem a shame to leave a job half done." Again she didn't need his desires spelled out. She bent down and took off her shoes. Then she eased her pants down and stepped out of them.

"Show me that booty girl. I been trying to remember how fine it is."

Isobel gave him a nice camera angle and then leaned over for him. She gave her rear-end a little wiggle because she knew he would love that. It felt naughty and very, very, delicious.

"Now you're getting the idea but you're still a beginner. Care for some notes girl?"

She hadn't expected that. "I guess," she said.

"OK. First, I like my girl to wear skirts not pants. Second, for the same reason, you don't need them panties. Maybe a thong at times but nothing more. Just like bras - we ain't needing them here. They just wasting time when I could be enjoying that cute body of yours girl. Besides when I'm putting my hand up your skirt I'm wanting to finger premium pussy not cloth. You getting me?"

"I guess," she repeated.

"Ain't no need for guessing girl. You just follow what I'm teaching and we'll get along real good. Am I right?"

"Yes sir." She tried to make it sound resolute and determined. This man, whose name she did not know and whose face she had never seen, was objectifying here. More, he was having her objectify herself for him. Why did she think 'more' when she should have thought 'worse'? She asked herself that question but she knew the answer. Her body's reactions to this stranger's talk were undeniable. He was tapping into something deep inside her in a way she would never have thought possible. Now, however, she knew how he was so skilled in doing that. Lots and lots and lots of practise. With Zoe and how many others before her. That certainly should have made it 'worse' but it didn't. She could not deny the truth - that she craved more. He might never have been within a hundred miles of her but he had her. Could stimulate with casual ease that most powerful of her erogenous zones, her mind.

"You were wearing flats there. Myself I like a girl in heels. You got any heels there girl?"

She hadn't had much cause to wear them recently but she had a couple of rather nice pairs. Gifts from her husband it seemed an age ago. When things had gone awry she had thought of dumping them or returning them but what was he going to do with them and they were really too good to throw away.

She went to fetch one of the pairs and on the way suddenly remembered her purchase of earlier. She moved to her mirror and took out her studs to replace them with the rather showy big hoop ear-rings that she had bought at the jewellers. She moved her head and felt them swing against her cheeks. The sensation was different but not unpleasant. It wasn't a look that she would necessarily have chosen but then she wasn't wearing them for herself.

She took out the heels and put them on. Then she returned to the view of the camera and stood there nervously. She was greeted with a whistle.

"Hoops and heels - my favorite. With a fine body like yours girl anything else is being seriously over-dressed. You know how to stand to attention girl. Face front, legs together, hands down by your sides."

She had a rough idea and did her best to follow his instruction.

"Not too shabby. But fingers straight down your sides girl and don't be leaning forward none. Keep that back nice and straight and stick that chest out. Let a man appreciate what you've got for him."

She did her best for him.

"I was a drill sergeant for ten years but I gotta say I much prefer the recruits I been getting since retirement." His low rumbling laugh came through her speakers. "Now that is 'Attention'. I want you just like that when I say 'Attention' from now on you hear.

"Yes sir."

"Thass right but wipe that big smile off your face girl. This is serious business. We got to get you in shape and ready. Now when I say 'Stand Easy' you do just that. Relax yourself and bring them hands round in front of your body. Now you can smile if you want to. That's pretty good. - Now 'Attention'. - Now 'Stand Easy.'"

She followed his commands to the best of her ability. Something not made easier by the fact she was still self-concious about doing this naked in front of a stranger. Knowing that he was recording her.

"Thass pretty good girl. It'll get easier with practice. Now stand at attention but with your hands behind your back and your legs apart. No, apart a little farther. Let a man see what he'll have to work with. That's more like it and that's the 'Wait' position. Appropriate for when you are awaiting orders from your Master. Stay basically the same but with your hands behind your back. That's perfect girl. Real nice. We call that 'Inspection'. For when your Master wants to show you off to his friends. You best get that one right because any Master is surely going to want to show a piece like you off all round town. Especially if it's this town."

He laughed again and Isobel wondered if he saw her reaction to his words. She knew the 'town' he was talking about, H-Town. Where that story had been set. Would he take her to that club and show her off? It should have been a frightening thought and it was a frightening thought but not in the way she would have assumed. She didn't dread the prospect - quite the reverse and that was the frightening part.

"Now turn around and go back to that wall I can see. Put your hands up against the wall and cross them. Yeah you get the idea but move your legs nice and wide apart. Thass the 'wall' position. Stick that butt of yours out girl - don't be shy about that now. Thass your money-maker and mighty fine it is too."

She obeyed his words and his suggestions without the need to consider whether to do so. That didn't surprise her after the first time. Knowing that his role was to order and hers was to obey. Maybe it was that Drill Sergeant's voice though she knew he was only playing with her. At least so far. The surprise, the thrill, in all this was how much she enjoyed it. She knew he was doing this because he enjoyed it - because he found her desirable. It was good to be admired by a man again, perhaps especially to be admired by a man like this.

"Nah - baby you hold that position right there for a moment. Thass real good." She held her position facing the wall, arching her back a little to stick her booty out nice and round. Just like she hoped he liked it. "Yeah now I'm ready for ya Come on back an kneel down in front of the camera there." She tried to judge where the camera would pick her up best and knelt down on the carpet with her hands on her thighs.

"Thass the 'kneel and wait' position. Now push your legs apart and put your hands behind your head."

She felt the material of the carpet under her legs as she eased her legs apart. She joined her hands behind her head. She had never felt so exposed but she didn't care. She only felt the blood racing through her arteries and veins, the anticipation of her master's next words.

"Thass the 'servant' position. How's it feel girl - you like being my servant?"

"Yes sir."

"Thass good because I'm surely enjoying watching you. Guess maybe you've earned the privilege of seeing just how much." The camera shifted and she no longer saw his hand or his desk. Now she saw his hard cock standing up and below it a heavy set of Black balls. It looked dark and powerful, enticing but also undeniably dangerous.

"Oh wow - thank you sir." Why had she said that? It wasn't like it was the first time she had ever seen a man's cock. It was just that it seemed like the first time. Previously she hadn't felt like this. The mixture of attraction and the knowledge that such attraction was so risky. That was a heady brew - a brew that had already intoxicated her. It made her feel as she had never felt before. She already knew that after this she would want more. You couldn't just do this once. At the very least you had to know if it was just the novelty of it. Though even in that moment she knew she was just making an excuse for coming back. It wasn't the novelty that was making her feel like this. It was the realisation of what she wanted and the knowledge that this man and those like him could give it to her.

That was the excitement of this and yes also it's danger. She wanted more and when, not if, she surrendered to that desire then she was well aware that it might only make her crave yet more. She had not felt like this before and she did not know how far it might take her.

The image on her screen was in close-up. It didn't suggest any scale but it seemed he had thought of that. Well of course he had - he had done this before - probably many, many, times before. Now his hand reappeared holding a universal remote. He held it alongside his hard cock.

He didn't say anything but then he didn't need to. There had been a remote like that in every house she had ever lived in. She know its size instinctively and she saw that his cock at least matched it for length. Once you knew he was at least nine inches long you could gauge just how thick he was.

"Wow," she let the word drift away into a laugh. "I guess the stories about Black guys aren't all lies then."

"Not hardly," he responded. "If you are wanting to find a Big Black Cock then they are out there. As you watch the videos you'll see it ain't just me. If you are wanting this then you've found the right people. So are you wanting this?"

"I'm... I'm not sure. It's - well, uh, it's kind of, er... She laughed again but more obviously from nerves this time. "I don't know how to say it."

She half expected him to be annoyed or even angry. She knew that he despised time-wasters and maybe he would think that was what she was.

Instead his voice reverted from drill sergeant to that smoothest of smooth chocolate. "Don't worry about it girl. I've got some experience in these things and I knew from the first how it is with you. Maybe you ain't quite come to terms with it yet but we got time for a piece as fine as you. Ain't no rushing and ain't no making anyone do what they uncomfortable with. Once you ripe and ready then everyone's gonna enjoy the fruit."

He tucked his cock back into his pants but the bulge was there and very obvious until his camera tilted back up to its usual image of his hand.

"I'll send you a package to help you get used to the idea. Be back here at eight tomorrow evening. You done well tonight girl - I'll send you a video I just got today. Show you what you training for."

***

She expected the video to be like the others. Sexual activity. In fact she was in for a surprise - or two.

The video opened to a scene of gardens and a large area of turf.

"Kinda nice about here ain't it."

"Yeah bro - kinda different to the Heights."

"Wouldn't think it was the same city my friends but it is. Owned by a gentleman who is always ready to do us a solid. North Capital types pay top dollar for the facilities at this spa. Then on the occasional half-day he makes it available to us. Little treat for our girls you know. Useful for recuperation too when there's been some surgery like last week."

"What's he charging?"

"Nothing - to us. The girls pay the set rate. Goes on their account with us."

His hearers didn't respond to that. They had presumably assumed that was the case.

Isobel didn't understand that bit of their talk but she had ascertained a few things. First, there were three men and one sounded very much like the man she had been on camera with earlier. Second, all three men were African-American to judge by their voices. Third, this video captured her attention in a way none except perhaps the first had.

Why? She knew the video was recent and she knew they were at a spa and that someone had recently had surgery. That could all tie in very closely with what she had heard from Zoe - in fact it tied in way too closely to think it was mere coincidence.

"Everyone here girl?" He was addressing a woman in her mid-twenties. She was at the entrance to the building and obviously waiting for them. The woman was wearing her gym outfit with her long blonde hair tied back in a pony-tail. She smiled and advanced.

The camera did not show them meet but you could tell that they were kissing. Once again it was brought home to Isobel that the videos showed the women's faces but not the men's.

"Hey Nikki it's good to see you at last. Got my two brothas here with me. Thass Jerome from the Heights and DeSean from Madison. Both come down to check out the prospects."

"This one ain't in doubt leastways. Gonna give me some of that sugar baby?"

There was the laugh that Isobel knew so well. Now she was absolutely sure that the man guiding the proceedings was indeed the man she had been chatting with earlier. "See girl thass the way with the Heights. They kinda cut to the chase!"

"Don't be showing no favoritism honey. Get your fine self over here." The third voice.

What happened next did surprise Isobel. The camera, more likely a phone, was obviously now with the man she knew as 'Sir'. He swung it up and for the first time Isobel saw the faces of the two other men. They were, of course, both African-American, very dark-skinned. One looked in his mid-twenties and was tall and good-looking. That was the one currently engaged in a deep soul-kiss with Nikki while his large hands roamed over the rear of her gym pants.

The other man, presumably Jerome 'from the Heights', was rather different. His eyes had a rather cynical look and he lacked the obvious handsomeness of his friend (or rival?). However, this man had a little something about him. He was in at least his late thirties and was stocky and powerfully-built. He wore a sleeveless shirt that left his muscular arms exposed. Their dark skin was covered in an intricate pattern of tattoos. Not like some of the rather crude ink work she had seen in some other videos. This was more like art and its patterns seemed to move and shimmer with the man's muscles.

Now he gestured to the man behind the camera. He was obviously tired of the delay. He had checked out Nikki and that was fine but he had more business in hand. Isobel felt she could read all of that in his face - despite the close-cropped beard that he wore. Jerome seemed to her to be a man who didn't brook delay, a man who knew how he expected things to be and who made sure that was how things were.

She had met men before who wanted to be perceived like that. She had even been fool enough to marry one. They had pretty much all turned out to be a sham - a weakling trying to project strength, an inadequate trying to feign competence. Those fakes weren't hard to spot because they constantly told you how great or important they were. How talented or rich they were.

The man she called 'Sir' and this man Jerome were very different from such blowhards. They didn't need to tell you anything. Just looking at Jerome you knew who he was. She couldn't exactly say how or why but she just knew.

"Hey DeSean - c'mon now. That's a real cute piece but we got business here."

The younger man didn't seem to take offence but he certainly did take the not-so-subtle hint. He flashed a brilliant smile and then tapped Nikki on the butt playfully. "Get yourself ready for inspection girl." His voice carried a smile in it and he really was a very good-looking man. It wasn't hard to see why Nikki didn't take offence and why the blonde woman preceded them into the building without demur. It would be easy to fall for a man like DeSean. Isobel understood that as she watched but she didn't find herself attracted to him in the way that she was to Jerome. The realisation surprised her a little but it was undeniable.

The men finally made their way in and after a short corridor they entered a large space that obviously served as a gym. It was expensively well-equipped and several of its machines were in use. The clientele, today at least, were exclusively female. With Nikki there were eight or nine there - all white or possibly Latina and all in there twenties or thirties so far as Isobel could see.

The men split up and the camera proceeded around the machines clearly picking certain of the young women out. 'Sir' addressed them all by name and with a relaxed familiarity. Their response told Isobel that these three young women knew him well. It wasn't hard to guess how. The same way that Zoe and Isobel herself knew him.

The other two men were going around the other machines. Maybe those young women had been chatting with them or with someone else. It was clear 'Sir' wasn't the only one vetting potential recruits.

Isobel watched it all carefully. Watching the reaction of the young women. She was convinced no-one was there who wasn't very happy to be there. Perhaps there was some nervousness but nothing more.

"OK people - enough small talk. Good to see you all working hard because you know what you're working out for is a program that's only interested in the best." That was 'Sir' for sure - back in his drill-sergeant mode. "Don't need no slackers or quitters or half-assed fronters. All of you here need to be ready and eager to be selected. Anyone here want to take a backward step?"

There was a nervous silence. Only the slight noise of the gym machinery.

"I need to hear a Yes or a No on that girls - let me hear it!"

"NO SIR!" Nine young female voices spoke as one. The camera caught Jerome watching with a half-smile on his face. There was again a certain cynicism about that half-smile. He had clearly seen this all before - he knew it was a performance. However, that didn't necessarily mean he didn't enjoy it.

"So you all ready to be drafted - you all ready to be a part of this thing?"

"YES SIR!"

"Well OK. We'll see about that. First I need you all lined up and ready for inspection right here and right NOW!" The last word was growled with magnificent urgency as he pointed out an imaginary line in the open space in front of him.

The women knew what was expected of them. Maybe they had been told before hand or maybe they had seen a video like this one before. Each left their machine and began quickly stripping off their gym clothes. Isobel noted that none of the women showed the slightest embarrassment or any hesitation. That surprised her but only momentarily. Hadn't she herself been naked on camera for 'Sir'? In person would be more intense but perhaps being part of a group helped?

Whatever the truth of that in under a minute there were nine naked women lined up in front of 'Sir' with each adopting the approved inspection position that he had taught Isobel herself earlier that night,

"Now we see a lot of photos and even a lot of video clips. Nowadays they got the AI and all that sorta shit for trying to front with a man. Thass why we always insist on having an in-person, hands-on, inspection. Which will be carried out by Jerome and DeSean here. Anyone got an issue with that?"

"NO SIR!" It was of course the expected response but from those interactions Isobel had already seen it was clear that it was an honest one. There was no need for coercion or bribery. That, she realised, was what the cam sessions were about. They were auditions yes but they were also training, preparation for this and for what lay beyond this. There were unpleasant terms for such activities and seeing this from outside she knew she would have applied them. Terms like 'exploitation' and 'grooming'.

However, she wasn't seeing this from the outside. Isobel herself was involved enough to understand there was more to this than those words could capture. It was odd for 'groomers' not to actively recruit or to force that first contact either physically or socio-economically. There was none of that here. To be involved you had to actively seek them out. Even discounting Zoe's material, which she was not supposed to have seen, she had been sent sufficient information to tell her exactly what she was getting into. This was no trap - unless it was perhaps a honey-trap.

There was a lure here and she knew that it was a lure that applied to her just as much as to any of the women on screen. There was an excitement about it, an undeniably addictive quality to it. Taking you further into the process, into this world that even a month ago she had no idea existed. Any pressure to be involved was internal rather than external. At first she had thought about the wisdom of getting involved and had even decided to end it. It hadn't happened Instead her own desires and needs had taken her further on - had left even the idea of such thoughts rather ridiculous. Were you being 'exploited' if you were getting what you wanted from the arrangement too? Perhaps but such semantics were powerless before her own sexuality. That was a force whose power she had never really understood before now. The power of her own sexual desire and the power of others' evident desire for her. She might have sensed such things in the past but now the realization was strong and potent. The motive power that was driving her on and rewarding her. Just like these women on screen and, also just like them, she knew she wanted more.

'Sir' pointed to the woman on one end of the line. "Step forward and tell us who you are and why you're here."

She was in her early thirties with an athletic toned body and long chestnut hair. "I'm Mandy and I'm here because I want to be drafted."

DeSean stepped forward, a smile on his face and why wouldn't there be. He looked Mandy up and down and nodded. He twirled a long dark finger and she turned for him. A large, Black, hand cupped her booty and then gave it a gentle slap. Mandy reacted a little but she didn't move. He gently took her shoulders and turned her back to face him. Isobel knew why when she saw him make eye contact with Mandy. He'd checked out her body and now he was examining her mind.

"You know what this is all about don't you?" Her nod assured him of that. "So you still ready?"

"Yes DeSean."

"Approved." His word set a bright smile onto her face and she returned to the line. At a signal from 'Sir' she took up the kneeling position that 'Sir' had called 'kneel and wait' when he had shown it to Isobel earlier that evening,

'Sir' pointed to the other end of the line and a second young woman stepped forward.

"My name is Violet and I am here because I need to be drafted." Violet was shorter and younger than Mandy. Younger than Isobel herself - perhaps twenty-two or twenty-three. She wore her brown hair relatively short framing her attractive face. She smiled a little nervously as Jerome approached her.

His voice was clipped and authoritative. "Let's make sure you all know how it is. You get drafted by us or any of the teams and we gonna be working that fine cracka ass of yours hard. You gonna be a beck-and-call girl for us. When we whistle you come running. When we wanting a piece of fine white pussy..." His fingers explored her body and finished the sentance as no mere words could. "If selected you gonna be our piece - exclusive to me and my team. You got any husband or cracka boyfriend you best be buying them a cage because our women are Black only. No ifs, no maybes and no exceptions. You know I'm from the Heights. We don't compete - we win. We choose the best and we expect the best. We know what it takes to win and we expect our girls to be ready and willing to do what's necessary. You gots to be up for the challenge."

Jerome moved up close. He wasn't as tall as DeSean but he was a good six inches taller than Violet. He casually reached out and twisted a long, erect, nipple. Not very hard but just hard enough.

Violet was looking up at him and she didn't wince or try to pull away. Instead her eyes just widened a little and her tongue moistened her lips. There was a palpable chemistry between her and Jerome. His previous words had not deterred it - had perhaps fuelled it. One look at Violet's face told you that Jerome could do pretty much whatever he liked with her and she wouldn't be complaining.

Jerome smiled, the first one free of cynicism that the camera had captured. Instead it was a smile of triumph. "Approved."

Violet's face broke into a wide smile and she moved back into line to take the 'kneel and wait' position.

So the process went on. Each young woman called forward and declaring her desire to be drafted. Each examined and approved by either Jerome or DeSean. Isobel watched it all - noted the slight differences in approach and in reaction. An earlier suspicion was confirmed. These young women all knew the drill - even to the extent of making sure they were at the right end of the line. Because while some like Violet couldn't get enough of Jerome others, like Mandy, were not eager to catch his eye. Frankly if you liked Black guys then you were going to love DeSean. Jerome, however, he was way rougher round the edges, rather stronger sauce. He was a taste that perhaps most wouldn't chose to acquire but, once acquired, would prove intensely and undeniably addictive.

Isobel knew she would have no complaints with DeSean but she would be making sure she was on Jerome's end of the line. The fact she was already contemplating what she would do when, rather than if, she was there was not lost on her. It was a video that perhaps should have horrified her, certainly should have scared her off. It hadn't - it had just taken her a few steps further down the rabbit hole.

One thing had surprised her. She had put two-and-two together about this linking to her phone conversations with Zoe but she had apparently made 'five' as an answer. Her friend and temporary house-mate had been nowhere to be seen. That felt somewhat anti-climactic but even such a thought made Isobel feel a little guilty. You weren't supposed to think about a step-niece like that even if she was only a handful of years younger than yourself. However, it was undeniable that it was easier to take this route when you knew someone who was ahead of you on it. Not that you wouldn't take it anyway - it just let you convince yourself that it wasn't so extreme, that everything was OK.

Eight young women now knelt - their rapt attention still fixed on 'Sir' and the other two men. The ninth stood and looked from Jerome to DeSean. She gave no obvious sign but Isobel instantly suspected that the ninth woman preferred the younger man.

Maybe Jerome sensed that too. "We got a no-show?" His voice was low and stern - the tone of a man who took such things as a personal affront. "Kind of a let down on your side eh." That had to have been directed at 'Sir' behind the camera.

"Could just be Jerome. You know these things are never a certainty. If I recall rightly four years ago, despite all I ever taught you, Heights selected two who flaked in the first week. That the real talk?"

Jerome gave a half-grunt half-laugh. "Four years ago maybe and then I wasn't making the final calls. We talking now and we a girl short. Who's gonna take this last piece?"

"I figured the Heights would be confident enough to let DeSean and Madison deal with this." The voice of 'Sir' was calm. "But if you ain't so sure of your crew?"

Jerome looked hard at the camera. It was not a look that most men would enjoy being on the receiving end of. The look of a man who wasn't pleased and who was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. Jerome's hard eyes kept looking straight at the man behind the camera for a long couple of seconds but then his eye-brow moved marginally and he shrugged.

"Fuck it - guess it'll be more interesting if Madison gets a boost. Only way they're getting any closer this year. She's with you DeSean."

The younger man was watching with his usual pleasant smile and gave a nod of acknowledgment

There was a low rumble of amusement from behind the camera. "You think I'd short you Jerome? Our other girl just ain't in the gym - less then a week since she was with our host downtown. She been resting up - just through the way there"

Isobel didn't really take note of those last few sentences. She had been too fascinated by the conversation between 'Sir' and Jerome. The big tattooed man was clearly not someone who many stood up to. He certainly didn't seem a man to play games with. Yet 'Sir' had done so and Jerome hadn't been inclined to push it. However sugar-coated it had been Jerome had ended up doing what 'Sir' wanted. Jerome was no fake, he was most certainly the real deal, but 'Sir' was the one really in charge. Isobel liked knowing that.

The camera followed Jerome's powerful back as he walked out of the gym.

"First on the left." The voice of 'Sir' was calm and relaxed just as it always seemed to be. Dealing with Jerome had been no big deal, just a minor amusement for him. Was it crazy for Isabel to feel a certain pride about that? Jerome was an alpha for sure but compared to 'Sir'...

Jerome laughed. "Damn - yeah man you ain't shorted me none. This one is fine as fuck. What you doing there baby?"

They could have obscured the face and Isobel would still have known. The tenth recruit, or perhaps that should be applicant, was wearing tight black pants and a sleeveless black top which plunged at the top to reveal an impressive cleavage. The dark material of her clothing contrasted with the paleness of her skin-tone and with the long blonde hair that cascaded beyond shoulder length. Her shoulders and upper arms were dusted with light freckles.

Everything bar the display of cleavage were very familiar. However, as with the other young women, the face had not been obscured. As final confirmation she heard a very familiar voice through her speakers.

"I'm not allowed strenuous exercise just yet so I've been getting in a little practice." She smiled and pointed at her own particular piece of specialised training equipment. It was a large sex-toy, black of course, attached to the big picture-window with a suction cup. The toy's shaft was a good nine inches long and it was clearly flexible since it quivered obscenely in position.

"What's your name baby?"

"I'm Zoe - like to see how far I've got?"

There must have been a signal or maybe Zoe simply assumed she knew the answer. After all she was a very attractive young woman and these were men who knew what they wanted.

She smiled and then settled down kneeling in front of the toy. She opened her mouth and swallowed the thick head of the rubber cock. She allowed it to bulge out her cheek as she cast a look into the camera's lens.

There was no doubt about the fact that Zoe was one of those women who the camera loved. No doubt too that any man watching this would take the message. Above that it was obvious the right kind of man watching would want to fuck her. Just like the two men watching her in person wanted to fuck her. Zoe was reading that in them and she was drawing energy and excitement from the fact.

The camera moved in and Zoe pushed her mouth further and further forward onto the big cock. It looked an impossibility but over half of that shaft had disappeared now. Just as the watcher wondered how far she could go Zoe pulled back off the cock and drew in big lungfuls of air. She laughed her silvery pleasant laugh, a laugh Isobel knew very well, perhaps enjoying the reaction of her live audience.

"Not too shabby girl - you been practising for sure." You could hear the pleasure in the voice of 'Sir.'"

"Pretty good for a beginner - but you doing it the easy way." The camera was on Jerome now. He had that cynical little smile again but his face showed something else too. You might have expected desire and lust and they were there alright. Jerome was a man of experience but even his poker-face wasn't perfect when confronted with so fine a little piece as Zoe. That wasn't all though. Mostly, Jerome looked interested. Isobel felt a little frisson run through her as she saw that.

Zoe had smiled at Sir's compliment but it faded as she turned her attention to Jerome. "What do you mean?" Those words could have been a complaint but they were really a simple question. Zoe wanted to know. She was interested too.

"Most any man with a pulse gonna be happy having you sucking his dick but maybe you gonna come across a man who wants a little more. Wants to make sure you ain't cutting corners, make sure you're putting heart and soul into it."

Zoe's eyes were wide and excited now. She swallowed a little and then simply said, "Show me."

Jerome's movements showed no hurry but he was beside her before there was any chance of her reconsidering. "Suck that dick girl."

She again moved her head onto the big black rubber shaft. This time, however, Jerome reached forward and took a hold of her hair, his strong dark fingers entwining among the blonde strands. He began to set a pace moving her head up and down the long shaft, pausing every now and then to push her as far down the shaft as she had already shown she could go. The camera had moved in close and caught the blood in Zoe's cheeks and the look in her eyes. Half-panic because she wasn't in control any more. Half-excitement because Jerome was. Then her hands came off the window and waved. He pulled her off the dick immediately and she coughed and spluttered.

Jerome let her gasp in some oxygen and then he was pushing her back onto the fake cock. "Suck that dick girl," he mockingly instructed her, "you just got one here. How's it gonna be when you got five or six men wanting that mouth of yours. You gotta be a well-trained little slut ready to do what's required. You hear me?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't with five or six inches of thick rubber cock in her mouth and throat. Instead she worked hard at taking as much of it as she could. Pushing down hard and deep.

He laughed - it wasn't an entirely reassuring sound. There was a lot of confidence and relaxed triumph in that laugh. Jerome held her head with one hand and moved the other round to let his fingers clasp her nose, pinching it shut.

Zoe's eyes were very wide now. However, she didn't struggle. She had practised enough on that big fake dick to understand that panic was the absolutely worst thing you could do. You had to relax and she tried to do just that. She really did try. However, she was getting no air and that could only last so long. Seconds ticked by and still she held her position.

Blue eyes flicked across at the camera There must have been a signal from 'Sir' because Jerome spoke again. "My man there would let you go now but I got real high standards for my cracka sluts. Ten seconds and I been talking for five. So - one - two - three - four - five."

Zoe had listened to him with no movement save in her eyes. Conquering her panic, holding out for those last few seconds. Now his hands released her and she pulled quickly off the shaft. She coughed hard and a long trail of saliva dropped down and onto her top. More coughs and more spit and only then she could finally look up. Still panting for air as she smiled. A peculiarly shy smile of achievement and satisfaction.

"Not bad," said Jerome. "There's some potential there. I can maybe make something out of you. Even if you only playing with little toys so far."

"Little!" Zoe was smiling her more usual smile now. "That cock's huge."

"That ain't no cock that's just a rubber dick. How'd you do with the real thing?"

"Well they won't be as big as that. For all the stuff about Big Black Cocks." She swung her hand against the rubber cock and set it quivering, still shining with her saliva.

Jerome gave an amused grunt and undid his pants. One practised movement and his pants and shots had been pulled down enough to release his cock. He'd clearly enjoyed the show and he was hard for her. If he didn't match the toy for length and girth then the camera was lying. Nine inches of thick coal-Black cock over a heavy pair of balls.

"Wow." The camera caught Zoe's enthusiastic smile. She reached out and her fingers just about extended around his shaft. She made a couple of exploratory strokes up and down his length, her blue eyes fixed on the junction between his and her skin.

"That ain't no rubber dick girl. Thass a real cock, a Black man's cock. You think you can handle that?"

"That is big," admitted Zoe. "I've only ever seen one as big as that." A glance at the camera and then her concentration was fully focused on his Big Black Cock again,

"Well I know that wasn't no white boy. Truth is it wasn't even no average Black man. But in the Heights crew we ain't just average you know what I mean. How you gonna deal with four or five Big Black Cocks like this? You think you up to it baby?"

"I don't know," Zoe admitted, "I want to find out though." She laughed that beautiful silvery laugh of hers.

There came a knock on the door and DeSean's voice. "We all ready for you."

"Shit," grumbled Jerome. "Just getting interesting."

"Strip down to your bra," 'Sir' told Zoe, "then follow us out."

'Sir' waited until all ten young women were lined up in the 'kneel and wait' position, nine naked and one with a bra protecting her healing new breasts.

"I got good news for you all. You have each been approved for the draft. So there'll be a position on one of the six teams for all of you. Today though we are going to have our two resident Bosses select their first two team properties for the new season. Others will be selected by the remaining teams in due course. DeSean..."

The younger and taller man moved up to the line and picked out Mandy and a tall redhead. "You both want to be part of my team?" He hadn't really needed to ask- their delight at being chosen by him was very evident.

"Now it's my turn." Jerome walked down the line making eye contact with each of the remaining eight. From Violet at one end right down to Zoe at the other. Then he moved round behind them and fished in his pocket for a couple of items. Once back behind Violet he produced a black leather strap with silver letters punched onto it and a silver buckle at one end.

He reached around so she could see the collar and the letters spelling out -

'H - E - I -G - H - T - S.'

"Our girls wear this so they always remember who owns them. Owns their mouth, their pussy, their titties, their booty - owns them all. You ready for that Violet?"

The petite young woman nodded her head.

The cameraman broke in. "Nah, nah, nah, that won't do girl. Jerome ain't fronting. His crew will own you - not just body but mind and soul too. You ready for that?"

They were offering her a way out - at least in theory. They knew that Violet didn't want any escape and Isobel watching knew it too. Their offer was all for show but it wasn't the real performance. Even before it happened Isobel knew that what mattered here was the girl's rejection of the safe route back to whatever she had come from.

Jerome was smiling his wolfish smile as he spoke low, but still just audible on camera, in Violet's ear. "You wanna be a slut for my crew then you best say it out nice and loud."

"I want to be a slut for the Heights crew."

Jerome smiled and placed the collar around Violet's neck, carefully securing its buckle. "Now you can take that off to wash but otherwise you need to be wearing it until the contest starts. Get you in the right mind-set you hear." His big hand slapped Violet firmly on her butt. "You're ours now slut. That sound good."

"Yes."

The camera caught Jerome's shared eye contact with the young woman. Then he smiled. He was satisfied with this selection. However, he had one more to choose.

He strolled behind the remaining women tapping his collar on his hand. Finally he stopped behind Grace. In all except age she was quite the contrast to Violet. A 5'10 brunette with very pleasing curves. Definitely a college girl. Her accent suggested her background had absolutely nothing in common with the notorious Heights. He ran a finger along the line of her spine and Grace visibly stiffened.

"Now you babe - you would be real fun to train. Wanna come to the Heights with me and the boys. You'd be real popular up there."

Grace wasn't saying no but she didn't exactly look enthusiastic either. You knew from one look that she had much preferred DeSean - in fact might prefer any assignment except going to the Heights with Jerome. He was too rich for her blood.

Jerome gave his cynical laugh. "Don't worry baby - I can see you ain't ready for what we're laying down. Not yet. Maybe after the contest you'll come see me and we'll have some fun."

He moved back down the line. "Now experience tells me not to take on a slut when I ain't seen all they have. However, our host the Doctor doesn't tend to fuck up and this one at the end here has sort of got my attention." He took the last few steps and stood directly behind Zoe.

Just as with Grace the camera caught Zoe's whole frame stiffening when she realised that Jerome was behind her. This time, though, the quality of that reaction was entirely different. Grace had dreaded being selected but it was obvious that Zoe was yearning to feel the kiss of his black leather collar as it was put around her neck.

His voice was spoken softly into her ear. "I asked before if you was up to this. We expect a lot from out sluts. Most teams got one or two potential individual winners. We expect all our sluts to be up there and in the mix. You know what that means."

"Yes sir." There wasn't a quaver in Zoe's voice.

"Sir or Master or Daddy or maybe just Jerome - any of them will do. Words are easy but are you really ready for this. Be aware that a hot little slut like you - well - me and my crew are going to expect everything from you. You really ready for that?"

"Yes Master."

Jerome gave a satisfied low rumble of a laugh as he fixed his collar around Zoe's neck. He seemed finished but paused and pointed at the camera. "Now he might get to see them new titties first but I'm gonna be the first to fuck them. From this moment you belong to the Heights crew. That understood."

"Yes Master." Zoe's face was bright with excitement and anticipation. If the video was supposed to prove that the recruits were all wiling participants then the four chosen had left no doubt.

"You done talking yet. Damn bruh I was done ten minutes ago," chided DeSean.

Jerome just shrugged. "You do it your way man and I'll do it mine. That's fine. Just means my hood will keep winning. His cynical smile was back as he followed DeSean out.

The camera paused and scanned the ten young women one last time. "Thanks girls. Sorry to interrupt your training. Just remember to keep fit and toned and ready. New season will be here sooner than you imagine."

The video ended. Isobel was again left to contemplate its results. There was now no doubt how far Zoe had progressed on her journey. Also there was very little doubt how far she was wiling to go. How should Isobel herself react?

She knew that she should be in contact with her sister, Zoe's step-mom. Didn't Zoe's dad deserve to know what was going on? Wasn't it Isobel's responsibility to make sure he did?

She knew all of that. However, Zoe was almost out of college. She was her own woman now. What right did Isobel have to tell her secrets, to betray her? Isobel herself had taken so long to understand what she really wanted and needed. Could she punish Zoe for understanding herself so much better? Did she want the responsibility for creating the chaos that would result from such revelations? That chaos might be inevitable but why should it be Isobel that brought it on?

She thought again about all that she had seen. She reached into her draw and found the sex-toy that 'Sir' had sent her. Not very big compared to the one in the video but big enough and beautifully Black. Isobel put the toy to her mouth and watched herself in the mirror as she tongued its tip. Imagined that it was Jerome's cock. That was good but his wasn't the only Big Black Cock she had seen. She popped her mouth over the head of the fake cock and imagined it belonged to 'Sir'. She would need a lot of practise if she was going to handle a cock like that. Practise with more than just her mouth of course and so she moved the toy down to her pussy.

The idea of telling her sister about any recent events was allowed to drift away as Isobel settled down to more important matters.