“Mother, I’m so embarrassed!” Heather whined. “Can’t we please just go home?” “I promise to be a good girl, really I do!” “I’m sorry, dear,” Beth Peters replied gently, “but I’m afraid that we’re way past the point of no return.” Heather sat glumly in one of the three leather easy chairs that formed an arc around the front of the desk of Nancy Rogers, who was the headmistress of The Private School For Wayward Girls. The sullen eighteen year old and her mother sat silently while waiting for Mz. Rogers to make an appearance. Heather glanced at the clock on the wall and offered hopefully, “Maybe she forgot about our appointment, mom!” “I don’t think so, dear, her secretary said that she’d be in shortly.” Again the two women fell silent until the door literally burst open as Nancy Rogers swept into the room. “I’m Nancy Rogers,” she said in a neutral tone, “and this must be Heather and Beth Peters.” “It’s nice to meet you Mz. Rogers,” Beth quickly replied. “Likewise,” the headmistress answered while taking her seat behind the massive oak desk. “So, let’s get down to business, shall we!?!”
Mz. Rogers picked up Heather’s already thick file and asked, “So, it seems that you’re having a problem with the boys, is that right?” Before Heather could reply her mother interjected, “Not just with the boys, Mz. Rogers, but with black boys!” “I seeeeee,” she replied softly. “Is that true, Heather, are you having trouble with black boys?” “Well, I wouldn’t exactly cause it trouble,” the young woman answered softly. “No trouble?!?!” her mother exploded. “She drops her panties for any black buck that asks her to, and I call that a problem!” Nancy put down the file and turned to Beth Peters and replied, “Your daughter has an addiction, Mrs. Peters.” “There’s no use beating around the bush, and I’m sure that you’re well aware that there is no cure!” “I know, I know,” Beth replied weakly, “it’s just that I’m at my wits end.” “I don’t want my daughter acting like a little slut for every stray black stud that comes along.” “Is that so wrong of me?!?” “Of course not,” Nancy replied smoothly, “and that’s why we’re here, to help her with her problem.” “Do you really think you can help her?” Beth asked hopefully. “It’s not a matter of controlling her, but more like we help her learn to manage her desires,” the headmistress answered gently.” “God, I certainly hope so,” Beth replied. “I certainly do.”
(more…)