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DR. HOOTERS PT V JILL IN EBONY [GODDESS/INTERRACIA
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
The use of African American dialect in this story is not an attempt to demean
those who use it as their primary means of communication. It is an attempt
to add flavor to a fantasy of a black woman dominating a white man. As a
person who does not use AA-dialect in my everyday speech, I will make some
mistakes, despite my continual exposure to various levels of Black American
speech at work.
There are several contributors to this group who do not speak English as a
native language. The errors they make in using an unfamiliar language as
a means of expression are both acceptable and pardonable. I hope that you
all will extend the same courtesy to my use of an unfamiliar dialect in
this story.
Non-American readers can make what they wish out of the above caveat.
American readers will realize its necessity.
DR. HOOTERS PT V -
JILL, THE AFRICAN QUEEN
Jill quit at the lab the next morning. After the strip-tease she performed
with Janet's "borrowed" body, it didn't look like the funding would be renewed
for the following year. Jill didn't follow Janet much after that. A couple
days of mental contact indicated that Janet preferred having a body to having
a genius intellect, and she was religiously avoiding any mental strain.
Money turned out to be no problem. A beautiful woman with a seventy-two inch
bust and telepathic powers had no trouble qualifying for loans at various
banks. Nor did she have much trouble multiplying those loans in the stock
or commodity markets. It took Jill about an hour each morning, in bed, to
make her picks for the day, and she usually went to bed several thousands of
dollars wealthier each night.
Mostly, she hung out with Brenda. Jill had never been big on girlfriends when
she was flat-chested, but now she found that no one understood a woman with
a well-endowed chest than another one equally well-endowed, no matter that
"she" had been a "he" only a few short weeks ago.
Brenda had adjusted well to live as a woman. She earned a comfortable living
at the club, using her spectacular figure, and her years of life as a man to
inflame her audiences, and become the most popular dancer in the region. It
also appeared that Brenda had "inherited" Jill's sexual appetites, and would
would disappear frequently in the morning and afternoon for sex. Brenda had
a direct approach that never failed her. If some guy caught her eye, she
would plant herself squarely in his path, thrust her huge tits out, and say
directly to him, "Sixty-three inches, if you think you can handle it." It
seldom took her longer than five minutes from stud-alert to spread-eagle on
her living room floor.
Jill found she preferred a little adventure. Her maturing powers gave her an
limitless field of play. One day, she stood in front of the mirror, while
waiting for Brenda to change into her workout gear. She darkened her skin,
passing swiftly from cream-and-rose to golden bronze to coffee-and cream to
deep coal-black. Her nipples and the lips of her vulva were almost purple.
Next, she darkened her eyes from her usual blue to a deep mahogany brown. She
passed her now-dusky hands over her blonde hair, and left it a rich black,
Thick and wavy, but not kinky. She broadened her nose, and allowed her lips
to thicken and swell. Brenda started when she stepped out of the bedroom
and saw the Queen of the Nile standing naked in her living room.
"God damn it, Jill", gasped Brenda, "You're gonna scare the shit outta me with
this quick-change work. I gotta admit, though. I Haven't seen many black
girls look as good as that. You gonna keep the tits?"
Jill was playing with her deep purple nipples, and admiring the cool smoothness
of her big black tits. "Got to, sistah."
Jill stood in front of the mirror applying cosmetics while Brenda relaxed on
the sofa. Jill thought it somewhat ridiculous that a woman who could alter
her appearance at will would have to continue to use artificial enhancements
for her natural beauty. Still, Jill had found that men expected it, and
that regardless of her awsome looks, she still felt a little better with a
after putting in a little time on her face. Also, the coloring for black
women was subtly different from that she was accustomed to using on her
"native" body. She patted and dabbed until she felt she had it right, then
she turned to Brenda for approval.
Jill looked spectacular. Her skin tone was a rich dark chocolate, and her
hair fell in thick, wavy, raven-colored locks past her waist to her ass.
Her remarkable breasts didn't suffer any diminishment for being black, in-
deed, they appeared even more vibrant and powerful. Jill's new African
features were faithful to the original; her large, sensuous mouth and
broad, powerful nose, flairing cheekbones and rich, dark almond shaped
eyes bespoke the regal aspect of a Black queen before the first slave-
trapper had contaminated her continent with their presence or her race with
their seed.
Brenda was impressed, but puzzled. "Jill", she asked, "if you can look like
anyone you want, and you want to look like a black girl, then why notsomeone
like Shari Belafonte, or Janet Jackson. You look so, so..."
"...black. I know", Jill replied, "I want to look *black*. Since I've been
shape-changing, I've been thinking a lot about beauty. Beauty seems to be a
matter of centimeters. Watch this."
Jill turned back to the mirror, and after she turned again to face Jill, her
face was a hideous mask of White stereotypes of Black facial features. Then
she pulled her face back into its former appearance. Brenda saw that Jill
was right. The difference between the Stepin Fetchit-mask and Jill's African
queen was one of, literally, centimeters.
Jill dressed for the workout. She pulled a white halter top over her extensive
tits, and a pair of green nylon running shorts on her bottom, leaving an
impressive expanse of black abdomen exposed. Jill didn't need to exercise, as
she could maintain her musculature by will-power, but she enjoyed accompanying
Brenda to her sessions, and besides, the gym was a great place to pick up men.
Jill and Brenda were almost out the door, when Jill grabbed Brenda by the
shoulder. "Wait a minute, Brenders, I gotta do something else." She reached
out mentally into the immediate neighborhood, and located three black women
whose memories she downloaded into her own. The effect nearly knocked her
off her feet.
"I had no idea" , she muttered, "Absolutely no idea."
"What?", asked Brenda.
"That it was so, so different. That it meant so much.", replied Jill. There
was no way to tell Brenda what she had just immediately learned, the resentment,
the continual defensiveness, what it felt like to learn before you barely knew
you were a separate person that most people thought there was something wrong
with you. If this is what it felt like, Jill thought, its a wonder the
country's still standing. She'd have to do something about this, later...
For right now, she saw she'd have to do some minor modifications. Jill turned
towards the mirror. "I still got a white butt, girlfriend. Can't have that."
She turned around and watched over her shoulder as the two cheeks of her pert
ass swelled and lifted, becoming so prominent that you could almost set a tray
on them, and two little half-moons of black ass peeped out from the bottoms of
her shorts.
"That's fixed, honey.", she said, grabbing Brenda again, "Let's go."
When they stepped out of the building, Jill found that being black hadn't
changed one important fact: She and Brenda were still the undeniable center
of attention. It was as though there were invisible lines of lust, desire,
envy and admiration connecting their huge, shapely breasts to every person
within eyesight. They were getting used to having everyone's head turn
towards them, as though they were the sun passing over a field of sunflowers.
They passed a group of black guys playing basketball, and Jill was surprised
at their insistence. Of course, Jill had been hit on by black guys before,
as a white girl, but there was none of this shared assumption of sexual
desire, none of this, this, well, 'Baby, I **gotta** fuck you'. Jill was
wondering what she had been missing. She stopped for a while, got some names
and telephone numbers, and raised their sperm count considerably before
passing on into the gym.
There were five or six guys in the gym. Brenda and she were regualars, but
the dynamite new black chick had them puzzled. "Hey, Brenda,"yelled one
of the guys at the Universal, "do all of your friends have such big tits?"
Brenda yelled back at his friend. "Steve, do all of your friends have such
big mouths and such small brains?", she replied.
Jill scanned the gym mentally. Despite that she was now black, all of the
guys in the gym desired her, even a young-looking blonde haired blue-eyed
fellow, who was desperately trying not to look at her. Jill sauntered over,
rested her arms on the weight bar, thrust her great black tits out at the boy,
and discomfited him even more severely by staring directly at him.
"hey, white boy", Jill demanded. The boy looked up at her, but, definitely,
not in her eyes.
She reached out a long black hand and grabbed him by the face, like an angry
aunt will squeeze a little boy's cheeks between her fingers. "Don't talk to
my tits, white boy." Then she flashed a dazzling smile at him. "I want you
to spot me on my bench presses, white boy. You think you can do that for me?"
The boy sputtered something in return, but mostly he shuffled off the bench
and let Jill position herself on the bench. Jill sent out a mental command to
the others in the gym to forget about her and her new partner. When she saw
that they were effectively invisible, Jill stripped off her halter top and let
her black, soccer-ball-sized breasts tumble out into the open air. "God, that
feels good. You like black tits, white boy, don't you?"
"I,I...", stuttered the boy, "I've never really seen any."
Jill lifted the weights clear of the bars. A hundred and eighty pounds was a
bit much for her, so she grew some additional muscles on her arms and her
chest to help her deal witht he load. SHe pushed off ten quick reps, each time
allowing the weight bar to settle into the flesh of her enormous breasts,
pressing them flat onto her chest wall. Her workout partner was beside himself
now, and it looked like the lump in his shorts was fixin' to bust right out.
Jill pumped off another two sets of ten reps. The moist warmth of the gym,
and the exertion of the exercise, made her sweat. She rose from the bench
glistening. She noticed that, whereas when white people sweat, they merely
looked sweaty, her sable skin was shining with her persperation. She saw
the little rivulets flow over the vast, dark expanse of her awesome breasts.
She leaned over the weight bar while the white boy got positioned on the bench.
Her huge black breasts swayed gently as the white boy moved his butt on the
bench looking for his comfort zone. His erection was so evident, it almost
hurt Jill to look at the lump in his shorts. Her dark breasts hung almost
halfway the distance between the weightbar and the bench.
She grew her breasts out a couple of inches. **That** got his attention. He
groaned with desire. She stepped out of her shorts now, and stood naked in
the center of the gym. The white boy was astounded to see that no one else
in the Gym was paying any attention to them at all.
"Aint nary a cracker payin' us no mind, little man,", Jill admonished him. "You
just put yo'white ass down here by the bar, and yo' head up there at the head
of the bench." The white boy complied with her orders.
"Now let's get rid of these here drawers, boy.", Jill ordered. She pulled his
gym shorts and his jock strap away like they were tissue paper. The white
boy's erection shot straight up into the air, about six-and-a-half, maybe
seven inches.
"Shit, boy, you got some brother in you, anyway.", Jill remarked. She
straddled the bench, lifting the weight bar onto her powerful shoulders. She
threw back her thick coil of dark hair, causing her enormous bust to project
ominously, like two black thunderclouds.
"I'm gonna do some squats, baby", Jill said, and she impaled herself on his
erection.
The white boy moaned as Jill worked him up and down with the full weight of
the barbells on her shoulders. Some sort of muscle inside her vagina was
working its way back and forth across his dick. That and the sight of that
savage black mane, and the feel of it swishing back and forth across the
lower half of his legs, and above all the heaving and jiggling of her immense
black breasts... He had never had a woman like this before.
The white boy came quickly to a thunderous orgasm. Jill herself shuddered
with the impact of it. When it was over, she pulled her shorts back up,
slipped her halter top over her gigantic tits, motioned to Brenda, and left
arm in arm with her from the gym. Hlafway out the door, she released her
mental hold on the others in the gym. She heard the raucus laughter as the
others discovered her latest conquest naked on the weight bench covered in
his own pud.
"A little malicious today, aren't we?", japed Brenda.
"Just a payback for two hundred years of slavery, baby," replied Jill, "Anyway
what's the use of being a goddess if you can't play around a bit once in a
while?"
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