The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mei and Mrs. Brown

Chapter 1

Mei was one of the prettiest girls in school, queen of the Asian hotties in one of McKinley High’s royal cliques. Daughter of a wealthy Chinese family, Mei was a spoiled princess with much ambition. Spa visits and shopping marathons were what mattered to this stuck up Asian diva, and she was quite comfortable teasing boys into doing her homework for her in order to have the time to get her nails done.

“Ooh yummy!” little Princess Mei squeals, her fabulous 4 inch teal peep-toe pumps clacking loudly on the hard floor as she flings herself at the incoming black student in the busy high school hallway. With a smirk of surprise, the jock swallows the teal dressed Asian up in his strong arms.

“Heh, that’s my girl.”

At eighteen and being seniors on their way to future careers, each of the school’s royal divas needed a high profile boyfriend to make their positions in the social hierarchy complete, of course, and yummy Jamal Brown was Mei’s choice. The towering basketball player was sure to land a scholarship. He was headed to the NBA if he kept on the straight and narrow, and Mei intended to have Jamal carry her along with him.

“Babe its Friday, and I promised we’d have dinner with my Mom tonight,” Jamal reminds his new girlfriend as the pair hold hands and head towards the exit. Mei nods her agreement, but as is typical she is focused on more important things, running teal fingernails though her luxurious black hair, and flashing glances at all the girls and boys who gasp at the provocative interracial couple. Gossip is more important than family.

It isn’t until the car ride to the Brown residence is over that Mei is snapped from her High School reverie. She fixes her makeup in the side mirror of Jamal’s Dodge Charger; a car Mei pressured him into signing a lease for. He hadn’t the money, yet, but Mei was persuasive and assured Jamal that he is a superstar, and he had to accessorize accordingly. Jamal was finding Mei an increasingly expensive accessory.

“Do I look okay?” the vain Asian girl asks, fussing with her appearance even as Jamal opens the door to his home.

“She’s gonna love you,” Jamal chuckles a reply, his eyes soaking in Mei’s pale and lithe body. Modest breasts, sure, but legs to kill for and a phat little bubble tush so rare to see on a girl like Mei.

Mrs. Brown steps into view in time to see Mei’s face wash in a big smile, a happy little eastern flower soaking up her boyfriend’s compliment. “Jamal sweetie you didn’t tell me she was so coordinated!” the boy’s mother says in a patronizing tone, hugging her son’s girlfriend lightly before stepping back and holding Mei’s pale arms out, openly appraising her.

Naomi Brown appreciates beauty. The older black mother utterly towers over the little Asian woman, taking her time to explore the pale waif and her teal dress and accessories, her dark eyes narrowing, knowing full well that Mei is happy with this kind of attention. Naomi herself is dressed in purple spaghetti strap dress with a thick gold belt, her hair black and straight, her gorgeous and dark black skin largely on display, curvy and strong with legs that beckon. Jamal long since has abandoned finding his mother’s fashions embarrassing. In fact he knew his mother would be proud of his girlfriend’s presentation.

Mei finds herself taking an instant shine to Mrs. Brown, squealing and holding hands as the matriarch of the Brown family leads the little fashionista into her home.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Jamal says, bounding up the stairs even as his two girls find their way to the living room, chattering about their clothes.

“Do you like my shoes, Mei sweetie?” Naomi asks, her voice smooth and low as she diverts the Asian girl’s attention to her long, dark legs and down further to her 2 inch gold, backless mules.

Bowing her head, Mei nods and smiles, almond shaped eyes wandering over those gold shoes on Mrs. Brown’s feet. “Oh ya totally!”

Firm hands touch to the guest’s shoulders and push her down, insisting she take a seat on the couch beneath her. “So you really like them?” the taller of the pair asks her pale little guest as she sits. She lifts her legs and takes a step this way or that, shifting her weight and doing a presentation.

“Oh yes I like your shoes,” Mei replies more simply, a bit confused. With her seated like this, Mrs. Brown towering before her, she feels a bit awkward, a bit out of sorts. Not wanting to face the weirdness, she continues to stare at those gold mule sandals.

“You like how they shimmer? “ Naomi asks.

Mei nods, “I really do.”

“You like things that shimmer and shine, Mei?”

A soft little chirp of a giggle escapes and the Asian Princess wrinkles her nose, staring at those shoes. “Absolutely! I like expensive things.”

Naomi smirks down at the Asian brat, knowing full well she’s a gold digger. “Ya, I bet you love my shoes. They were 400 dollars.”

Mei’s eyes widen and she squirms in her seat. “Oh wow! Ya, I really love your shoes! You’ve got fabulous taste, Mrs. Brown.”

“Good girl.”

And just like that Mei feels uncomfortable. She smiles weakly and breaks her gaze from Mrs. Brown’s beautiful shoes, feeling stupid. Had she just been staring down at a woman’s feet while she stood above her? “Uh, w.why don’t you sit down, Mrs. Brown?” Mei asks rationally, craning her head to look up and seeing her boyfriend’s mother absolutely towering over her. Mei’s jaw drops.

“Damn!” comes a cry from upstairs, followed by a rumble of heavy thuds as Jamal barrels downstairs, pulling his shirt on. Mei turns to look at him, but Naomi continues to stare down at the girl, scrutinizing her.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Mrs. Brown asks her son while continuing to look down on Mei. As if she didn’t know the answer.

“Mom I got voice messages from work, a shift got juggled and I have to go in. Why didn’t you call me?” Jamal asks, frustrated. He’ll have to skip the dinner, and leave Mei alone.

“Oh I’m so sorry Jamal, I must have forgotten. Can’t you eat first?” Naomi Brown asks just as any other mother would, seemingly oblivious to her son’s stress.

“No! I can’t even take Mei home,” he bellows out in frustration. Turning his attention towards his pale and delicate flower of a girlfriend, he shrugs and shakes his head. “I’m so sorry, I can give you bus fare...”

Mei frowns at that, feeling very tense and disappointed. “Nonsense, Mei deserves better than public transit.” Naomi answers in defence of her, drawing a smile from a surprised Asian brat.

Naomi smiles down at Mei as the girl turns and stares upwards at the black woman again. “I’ll take her.”

Once Jamal is gone, the awkwardness returns, though Mei does feel a bit more comfortable, and quite pleasantly surprised with how Mrs. Brown understands she wouldn’t like to take the transit.

Mrs. Brown laughs inside, but shows none of this as she sits beside her son’s girlfriend and touches the back of the girl’s head. Mei’s own mother had never shown such maternal affection. The feeling was warm and disconcerting.

“I’m sorry about Jamal, sweetie,” Naomi speaks softly with a patronizing compassion.

“It’s ok,” Mei says, staring down at Mrs. Brown’s gold shoes again.

“You seem stressed, Mei. Are you alright?” The black woman asks as pretence.

“Oh y.yes sorry I.. I’m fine I just feel bad for Jamal,” she manages to say. She isn’t really sure what to say, but thankfully she is shushed by Mrs. Brown.

“Now Mei you should relax. Why don’t you stare at my shoes, you like that,” Naomi suggested, her fingers still playing at the base of Mei’s skull, gentle caresses to unnerve and unbalance the Asian girl.

“I really do like your shoes,” Mei confesses, trying to pull the conversation away from her troubles. She didn’t seem very upset, honestly, but Mrs. Brown seemed so focused on her stress level.

“Good girl, Mei.” Naomi rewards the girl, who tenses at the word. “Oh my you are so stressed. You know I often find that focusing on one thing really helps. Why don’t we relax, we’re both a little upset by Jamal’s behaviour. He was wrong to speak to us that way, wasn’t he?”

“Yes!” Mei chokes out, feeling much more relaxed realizing Mrs. Brown recognizes her problem.

“Yes, Mei, I have to say we’re really stressed right now, and we should relax before dinner. Why don’t we just stare at something, a point on the wall, a light, maybe even my pretty gold shoes, if that’s easier for you,” Naomi grins, watching Mei’s gaze continue to remain on her black feet and gold shoes. “I know how much you like my shoes, Mei.”

“Ya, I like your shoes,” Mei repeats strangely.

“Good girl,” Mrs. Brown condescends, and again Mei tenses. She wriggles a little, trying to pull her neck away from Naomi’s fingers, but the black woman is stronger, and holds her neck more tightly, like a mother would hold her child, kneading her neck with strong fingers. Mei concedes in order to avoid a confrontation.

“A simple trick to quickly relax is to focus all your attention on my shoes, like you enjoy so much,” Naomi teases, lifting her foot, shoe dangling, drawing the Asian girl’s gaze in deeper as the movements get more dynamic. “Just focus all your attention on my gold shoes, and we’re going to count from one to twenty. It won’t take long, and you’ll feel right as rain. Just focus as I count, and here’s the trick, Mei...”

The pale Chinese Princess inhales a small moan of question, focused in this moment with Mrs. Brown. “You’ll relax so much easier if you close your eyes when I say a number, and open your eyes in between the numbers. Close those pretty eyes when I say a number, and open your tired eyes in between the numbers. Do you understand that sweetie?” Naomi asks while she gently massages Mei’s neck, holding her head aimed towards her feet.

“Ya...” was all the reply Mrs. Brown needed.

“Good girl, Mei,” Naomi praises once more, tightening her grip on the back of the girl’s neck in anticipation of her embarrassing struggle. “One.”

Those lovely lidded eyes close. A moment later Mei opens her eyes and is rewarded with a shimmer of light as Mrs. Brown bobs her foot slightly.

“Two,” Naomi says on an exhale, watching with a widening smile as Mei’s pretty Asian eyes close, and then reopen. “You’re doing a great job, Mei. Why don’t you go ahead and take a nice deep breath. Three.”

The pale girl’s lungs fill with air and as she opens her eyes and exhales, she hears Mrs. Brown’s voice again. “Four.”

Oh gosh, she had just been opening her eyes when the number was called. In a fit of confusion Mei shuts her almond shaped eyes once more and tries to compensate for the timing by opening them more quickly.

“Five. Take another deep breath. That’s a good girl,” the fabulous black woman instructs, continuing to work her foot in small circles, her lovely golden shoe dangling on her dark foot. Naomi enjoys the fact that Mei doesn’t struggle with being praised this time. Silly little girl is much too focused on keeping track of her breathing and the rhythm and these golden shoes in sight.

“Six.” Naomi whispers into the Asian girl’s ears. Mei is visibly relaxing, slouching in this large dark brown couch, pale and teal swallowed up by dark chocolate designs.

“Seven. Oh Mei, your eyes must be getting so tired now, with all this opening and closing. I know you want to keep staring at my pretty shoes so you should try really hard, but if you find your lovely eyes can’t stay open, you just let yourself relax and don’t worry about the other numbers, do you understand?” Mrs. Brown so generously instructs.

Mei nods, her lips twitching at a little smile, “Ya... I... I like your shoes,” she repeats from a previous conversation. It is easy to find that statement in the struggle to make new thoughts.

“Oh good girl, Mei!” Naomi swoons, her large lips inches from her guest’s ear. “Eight. Take a big breath now honey. Yesss, just like that.”

And just like that, Mei doesn’t open her eyes anymore.

Chapter 2

The sunlight peeking through horizontal blinds pepper the sleeping Asian girl and slowly rouses her to wake. Naked and tangled in her bed sheets, Mei sits up with a start, looking around her bedroom with confusion.

She was at Jamal’s house, she recalls, having dinner with his Mother. Flipping tousled black hair away from her face, Mei climbs out of bed, dragging bed sheets along with her until they fall away like her doubts. The memories are slow but the more she focuses on Mrs. Brown, the easier it is to remember.

The woman is incredible. So tall and strong, a confident woman who knows how to get what she wants from the world around her. As Mei washes her face, rubbing small circles of cream in afterwards, she stares at her own reflection.

“I wish I was as beautiful as Mrs. Brown,” she confesses to her own narcissism. Mei’s never met anyone quite like Mrs. Brown before, and in a school where she is on top, she finds herself strangely envious of a woman twice her age.

Her parents are disappointed with their only daughter’s tardiness after showering for an hour. Mei lets her stuffy parents wait, preferring instead to reminisce of her time with Mrs. Brown while she oils her pale, naked body.

Her dress was fabulous. It is so refreshing to be able to relate to a parental figure about fashion. Her Mother was so traditional and conservative in her dress, and did not approve of Mei’s colourful dress choices. But Mrs. Brown had praised Mei, and she herself was as vibrant as the Asian fashionista. That purple dress looked exquisite on Mrs. Brown’s dark chocolate skin. Mei could appreciate the natural beauty of a black woman. They were so much more innately beautiful than Mei was. Applying her makeup, a kiss of body glitter and a smoulder of purple eye shadow and Mei catches herself wishing she was as naturally beautiful as Mrs. Brown.

To the roar of her Father’s frustration, Mei click clacks her way down the stairs. Her parents do not approve of her grape inspired mood; dark purple fingernails and a fabulous purple spaghetti strap dress with a thick gold belt are hardly appropriate choices for church.

The girl could hardly care; she was much too disappointed in her lack of suitable shoes. Sure, her purple pumps always had worked in the past, but she felt like she wasn’t good enough, though when she heard the honk of a car horn, the feeling passed.

“Bye Mother and Father!” Mei squeals as she escaped the chore of a family event with glee, click clacking her way outside and towards a lovely black Dodge Charger. She’d be in deep trouble later, but right now she could care less. Opening the passenger side door and slipping inside, Mei turns to the driver and gives her best smile.

“Hi Mei, honey, you look fabulous!” Mrs. Brown practically laughed at the vision before her. Mei had dressed exactly like her boyfriend’s mother had last night. The black woman allows her eyes to feast on the pale Asian’s tribute to her. “Good girl.”

Mei’s cheeks warm with blush and she looks her black companion over. She’s so beautiful, how luck is Mei to get to be near her, to stare at her dark skin and her curves, and to listen to what she has to say about the world. “You look so beautiful Mrs. Brown,” the girl honestly confesses with a tremble.

Naomi Brown smiles confidently, looking so at ease in the seat of this black sports car. Tall and powerful, a natural pairing with a car like this, the black mother of this dazed Asian girl’s boyfriend, Naomi looks mature but sexy, lovely wearing a baby blue summer dress, her black hair pulled back with a thick white headband, dark arms littered with matching baby blue and white bracelets, and cute white pumps on her feet. Mei simply stares for a spell. This is what a woman looks like.

“Jamal says he’s sorry but he’s got a lot of practicing to do before the big game tomorrow,” Mrs. Brown informs with a mocking pout. “I told him you wouldn’t mind, it gives you more time with Mom.”

The way Mrs. Brown said that made Mei feel this dirty warmth in her tummy, little butterflies joined with guilt at having abandoned her own parents for this. Swallowing the feelings rather than telling Mrs. Brown she ditched her family event for this, Mei just nods and wrinkles her nose. “I’m so ready!”

Saturday at the mall is always a busy affair, but the pair slithered through the crowd with grace, the superior black woman leading her younger Asian charge around by the hand. The shops, the colours, it is all so fantastic, and despite the guilt, Mei finds herself sighing, content at last to have a motherly figure to share her interests with. Mrs. Brown leads Mei to a different store, one with a more urban feel, giving a wave to the salesgirl.

“Janette this is Mei,” Naomi introduces with a smile, raising her long arm up, which draws Mei’s higher. She spins her Asian charge around like a ballerina, giving Janette the opportunity to inspect her on her own time.

“Gorgeous little girl, aren’t you?” Janette patronizes, making Mei frown and blush with a small nod.

The Asian girl is usually so proud, so brazenly confident, head held high, but here with Janette and Mrs. Brown she feels uncharacteristically meek, unable to do her own lengthy appraisal of Janette. Which is a shame, too, as Janette is another naturally beautiful black woman, though with more weight in the hips than Mrs. Brown. Both women tower over the younger Mei, and seem to radiate a condescension that keeps the high maintenance Chinese girl off balance.

“Mei is a little fashion butterfly just like us, Janette,” Naomi continues, talking about the girl as if she weren’t here. Large hands touch pale shoulders, and Mei is pointed towards the shoes. “Mei, Janette’s got something so wonderful to show you. I am sure you remember these...”

The pretty gold mule sandals... oh how they shimmer with the dynamic lighting here! Naomi’s hand finds the back of Mei’s head; making her feel safe while she stares. “Oh do you like those shoes, Mei?”

She’s nodding before she even realizes its Janette who is asking. “Yes. I like the shoes,” pretty Mei answers without question. She loves those shoes.

Mrs. Brown is so good, holding her steady like this as Janette gets down on her knees and carefully touches the Asian girl’s lovely bare legs, helping her out of her cute purple pumps and slipping those gold mule sandals onto her well maintained feet instead. “Just like Cinderella,” the mature saleswoman says, winking up at the dazed Asian girl.

“They’re yours, Mei. My treat,” Mrs. Brown generously offers, caressing the base of her pale friend’s skull.

“What do you say honey?” Janette corrects with a cluck of her tongue as she cashes the purchase out and smiles knowingly at Naomi.

“Tt.thank—“

“One,” Mrs. Brown says quickly, interrupting Mei. It didn’t matter; Mei was going to focus on closing her heavy, almond shaped eyes now. Then, after a long moment, she opens her eyes and stares at her gorgeous feet, purple nail polish, pale skin, and shimmering gold mule sandals.

“Two,” Janette joins in, brushing her hand down to the small of Mei’s back as she walks over to the end of the story and locks the door, closing the blinds.

“Good girl.”

Chapter 3

Too much shopping is impossible. Mei teeters with so many shopping bags on both of her little arms, her fabulous gold heels click clacking as she struts through the mall, towards the foot court. From off to the side, her name is called, rudely.

“Mei, what the hell!?” Leanne protests, and in the time it takes the baby blue and white dressed Asian Princess to turn, she is confronted by her best friends, the royalty of McKinley High School.

“Where were you last night?” Sarah asks with a mix of concern and hurt. A pretty redhead, she felt especially close to Mei because they were both so pale, they’d joke about it and hold their arms up together. Pale pride.

Mei frowns a little, she can tell she’s hurt her friends’ feelings but for the life of her she has no idea what they are on about.

“It’s that boy toy of yours, Jamal, isn’t it?” Leanne charges on the attack. The leader of their clique and undisputed Queen of cool at McKinley High, Leanne was a slender blonde who looked like she could have been Paris Hilton if she just had a sex tape.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I haven’t seen Jamal, and he’s always practicing!” Mei honestly recounts, bitterness in her voice. She doesn’t like how her so called boyfriend doesn’t have the time for her, making this attack by her friends to be that much more ironic and stuff.

“Where were you then? We were supposed to meet up after the big game,” Sarah explains with a shrug, glancing at Leanne. Sarah has always been a counterpoint to Leanne’s... bitchiness.

“That’s not until Monday night, ha-ha,” Mei laughs and shakes her head, beginning to turn away. A tanned hand grabs her wrist and pulls her back.

“It’s Tuesday you bitch! We had to skip class to find you, and look at you, you’re shopping!” Leanne tears into the now confused Asian friend.

“God Mei, you need to pay more attention. This is so uncool” Sarah says with a frown. “I feel like you’re just throwing us away for that black guy. Is being shocking really worth losing friends?”

“Shocking? What does that mean?” Mei asks, beginning to lose her patience with these girls.

“Gawd!“We get it you went black, now come back!” Leanne interjects impatiently, throwing her hands in the air.

“Ok, I’m done,” Mei states calmly and walks off leaving her two confused friends there. She never looks back, but as tears begin to stream down her face, making her makeup run, she begins frantically searching.

Mrs. Brown had just finished her pedicure in the mall when Mei smacked into her and flung her arms around her, shopping bags falling to the floor. The poor girl, she was crying, burying her face in Mrs. Brown’s ample black breasts. “Goodness Mei what’s wrong with my girl?”

With tears freely streaming down her face, Mei withdraws and tilts her head way back, as she always must in the presence of this magnificent black woman. “I... I just had a fight with my friends,” she starts, gasping between sobs of sorrow. “They said it w.wasn’t the day it was a.and I..I’m confused. Why would they attack me like that?”

Shushing the poor girl, Naomi takes her pale little friend’s hands and helps her pick up all those shopping bags before leading her into the black car in the parking lot. Naomi’s hands caress Mei’s pretty legs, lifting them into the passenger seat and closing the door. In a moment they are on their way towards home, with Mei recounting the story.

“Mei honey, I’m so sorry your friends don’t approve of you anymore,” Mrs. Brown says with such understanding. “It is so sad, how can they get upset at you for something you can’t change?”

It was difficult to understand, that was true, but Mei wasn’t sure what Mrs. Brown meant. “W.what?”

“Oh precious girl, you know you have a certain.... fondness for my people,” Naomi tells her with amusement.

Mei’s face frowns, the girl just doesn’t get it.

“It is ok, Mei. You don’t have to think right now, you need to relax. Why don’t you go ahead and find a place to stare and we can do our trick we’ve been practicing,” Mrs. Brown suggests. This really is a good time to relax, and a horrible time to think.

“Here in the car, Mrs. Brown?” Mei asks diminutively, looking around for some place to focus all of her attention. In her grief she hadn’t even noticed how lovely Mrs. Brown’s black body looks in her yellow summer dress. The Chinese girl’s eyes roam dark pastures, and they find the answer to their question, focusing intently on Mrs. Brown’s smooth, dark thighs.

“Good girl,” Naomi encourages, reaching over and finding the base of Mei’s skull. The silly girl exhales and let’s her boyfriend’s Mother massage the back of her neck again. It is easy for Mei to stare at this woman’s legs when she doesn’t have to hold her neck up like this.

“One,” comes the number from warm, full lips, and almond shaped eyes slip shut.

Chapter 4

The prettiest little Asian girl in school stood in awe of her own reflection. She had become so much more beautiful since Mrs. Brown’s influence. A happy little sycophant, Mei had taken to her boyfriend’s Mother with much devotion, listening to the mature black woman’s wisdom and learning from her fashion sensibilities. Standing before a full-length mirror, the pale Chinese girl is smiling like sunshine, wrapped in a pretty yellow summer dress with matching plastic bangles and headband. Her almond eyes wandered over her slender figure, turning around to admire her own rear, the lines of her legs. Princess Mei gave herself smouldering looks mockingly as she realized herself as a sexual being she hadn’t before. She was a very desirable woman. Mei desired herself.

“Mei please come down here this instant,” called the chill voice from below. Her Mother, Iris, had become increasingly impatient with her diva daughter lately. With a roll of her eyes, the stuck up girl slipped into the cutest pumps, just like Mrs. Brown and Janette had suggested, and she click clacked downstairs, creating a ruckus of noise pollution in an otherwise refined and peaceful home.

“What, Mom?” Mei droned out uncharacteristically.

Mei had stumbled upon her lovely Mother sitting at the dining table with a pad of paper. Uh oh, another of her famous lists. Goals, chores, things not to do; Iris was the matriarch and she kept her daughter and son on the straight and narrow. A look of worry on her aging face, it was clear Iris felt Mei had fallen off the true course. “Please take a seat next to me,” she calmly replied.

The younger of the pair sits down, pale legs together. She rests her elbows on the table and makes no attempt to hide her frustration. Iris remains calm and begins to explain.

“Your Father and I are concerned for you, flower,” she says with a creak in her voice. “You are keeping strange hours, and I am concerned about your spending. All this shopping dear, where have you found this money—“ Iris’ thesis is interrupted by the honk of a familiar horn outside. “That boy, Jamal, isn’t—“

“Bored now,” Mei says, leaping to her feet and quickly abandoning the civil conversation with her Mother, whose protests are drowned out in a flurry of echoing high heel percussion.

Jamal’s Dodge Charger wouldn’t turn into a pumpkin, but Mei the spoiled Asian Princess felt like she was in a romance. Her heart was racing and her palms were clammy. She hadn’t felt this nervous before. Climbing into the car she felt so happy, quickly swallowed up in Mrs. Brown’s strong embrace. Mei felt like syrup melting over pancakes. “How’s my little flower?” The most incredible woman in the world asked.

Mei wasn’t used to showing this much skin around matronly figures such as Mrs. Brown, but she felt an indescribable urge to show her body to her boyfriend’s Mother. Jamal had another late night and was sleeping soundly upstairs. He was working so hard these days, between basketball practice and his part time job. Mei was quite disappointed in her boyfriend. Hot as he was, and a sure ticket to money, he wasn’t giving her the attention a narcissist like Mei requires.

Mrs. Brown understood; it was her suggestion for Mei to wear the skimpy orange bikini she had on now. She knew her body was attractive, they way males fell over themselves for her was no surprise. The young woman found herself curiously wondering whether another woman might also find her desirable. She hoped Mrs. Brown appreciated having a pale, almost naked Chinese girl around. She so very much wanted Mrs. Brown to be happy with her.

Tiny bare feet felt the heat of the concrete beneath them, carrying Mei scurrying over to the long chairs laid out with clean white towels like a resort. The sunlight flickered off the pool and reflected back upwards, dancing along the dark territory of Mrs. Brown’s almost naked body. Mei had to stop and stare at the vision of femininity before her. Amazons come to mind. “Oh Mei sweetie, I’m going to need to put those pretty hands of yours to work,” Naomi Brown called out, beckoning with one of her manicured hands for her son’s Chinese girlfriend to approach.

“Oh s.sure Mrs. Brown,” Mei stammered, nervously, unable to tear her gaze from that beautiful black woman’s skin. She felt the bottle of oil placed in her hand, and she knew what she was going to do. Naomi grinned widely as her pale little friend was so taken with her body. After admiring the dazed look for a moment longer, she turned and lay on her back and allowed her guest to properly massage oil into her curvaceous body.

“Good girl,” was what made poor Mei chirp and shake with excitement. Was she really becoming aroused as her hands, warm by the oil, roam over Mrs. Brown’s glorious black body? Was Mei really enjoying massaging the Mother of her boyfriend, running her slender fingers along the curves, the lines of a beautiful woman? A moan from Mrs. Brown was immediately joined by a moan from the mesmerized Chinese girl. It felt so good to know Mrs. Brown was enjoying the way Mei touched her.

The rest of the world just seemed to fall away. What did it matter, really, when pale and dark were meeting at last? The heat between the two was overwhelming, the oil and the sun joined to work both the women’s voices into breathy pants. Mei’s heart was pounding in her chest as she gulped at breaths of air, exhaling shaky moans.

“Mei dear, don’t get too excited,” Mrs. Brown mused, turning herself on her side and shooing her friend away. The girl was confused, visibly shaken, her hands messy with oil. She was aroused. Mei was so aroused. “Mei,” Mrs. Brown called again, ending the analysis, “Janette asked you a question, dear.”

The silly girl had not realized, and felt immediate embarrassment. When had the clerk at the shoe store arrived? She had been so engrossed in oiling Mrs. Brown that she had ignored a guest! “I’m so sorry,” the dizzy diva began, but Janette would have none of it, and touched a single finger to Mei’s pouty lips.

“Hush now Mei, you were being a good girl, and that’s all that matters. Now if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like my lemonade now,” the other mature black woman said, bringing the conversation to a screeching halt. Had she just given Mei an order? Confused and a bit put off, Mei nodded quickly and stood, her palms up, slick with messy oil, and without a protest or another word, she scurried off to make lemonade. Janette sat down on the only other long chair and the pair of mature women began to chat.

Mei was devastated. She had never felt so off balance, so vulnerable in her life. At school she had always been in control, steady on her feet and confident with the quips and the politics of popularity. Something about these women made Mei feel so different. As she carefully carried out a tray with a jug of lemonade and two tall glasses, she thought better on the subject. It didn’t seem like something she could admit to others, but the way those nasty little butterflies fluttered sweet honey in her stomach, Mei had to confess inwardly that she liked the way Janette and Mrs. Brown treated her.

“I hope you like my lemonade,” the pale girl says as she kneels down between the two long chairs and places the tray on the concrete. Her knees turn red on the hard surface, marked easily as she serves up a beverage, first to Mrs. Brown, and then to Janette, both receiving a shy smile.

“Good girl, Mei!” the pair say in unison, watching with smirks as the praise sends their servant girl into a tiny fit of shivers. They give her a moment longer to soak in the compliment before Mrs. Brown turns over on her back again and leans over the chair to brush her thick lips gently against the Asian girl’s ear.

“Mei,” Naomi says in a low and mellow tone, sending the girl tumbling backwards, swaying there like she was hit head on with a crashing wave of thick maple syrup. She dangles there, arms out to her side, hovering for a moment, her lidded eyes barely able to stay open as she focuses on a fluffy cloud.

“One.”

Chapter 5

“Wake up honey,” a soothing voice rouses Mei from her wonderful sleep. Slowly she stretches and opens her Asian eyes. Her surroundings are at once unfamiliar and home at last.

“Mei sweetie, come here would you?” the voice calls again. Lifting her naked self from the bed, Mei stands up and pitter patters her bare feet towards the beckoning voice.

The steam in the bathroom was heavy, but through the haze she could see a silhouette in the large glass shower stall. Mei allowed herself a moment to stare before the door slid open and Mrs. Brown was there, naked and glistening, black skin wet. “Come here, you silly girl,” Mrs. Brown invited with a tease and a smile, luring the sleepy Asian girl closer.

Mei stepped up inside the shower and weakly lifted her arms. She was shaking. Precious. Her little fingers were so cold, brushing along her boyfriend’s Mother’s wet naked body. The feeling was indescribable. The steam and the drumming of the water drowned out the universe, giving Mei the time she needs to relax.

She was safe: Safe from the parents who cast her out of their home, safe from the fake friends pretending to worry about her at school, safe to express these feelings she’s had for as long as she was told to remember. She’s never wanted anything this bad. Her friends were right and Mei loved it. This delicious scandal, how far gone she is. Mei’s gone black, yes, but she’s found something else about herself that makes lips whisper gossip through the wind.

“Be a good girl, Mei.” The dominant of the pair suggests. That’s all you have to do with a confused little slut, nature takes care of the rest.

A soft splash replies to a pale, wet Asian girl sinking to her knees before her better. Large black hands pat the precious girl’s head, condescending and affectionate. Mrs. Brown lets the girl find her own pace; there is no need to rush the Mei towards her Sapphic destiny. The girl is turned out, the rest happens in its own time. While an Asian girl presses her face between the legs of her Black matriarch, neither lesbian lovers hear poor Jamal come home.

“Good girl.”