Partial Exposure

It was over.

She had to be strong.

It was over. And though it wasn't relief that Vanessa felt, it was like it.

It wasn't relief. It was emptiness. It was ****. Hers. And Vanessa could live with that.

After her short, surreal conversation with her daughter, Vanessa's **** attempts to keep her eyes off...

After closing herself away, squeaking out her parting words, literally praying with her hands clasped under her face that Elly wouldn't enter and find her naked and ass-up on the floor, panic had left Vanessa in shattered, sharp pieces. The walls around her had closed in, thudding in time to her heartbeat - while outside muffled tones, male and female, had tormented her. If she hadn't been naked and tailed, if she hadn't been rooting through her daughter's -- Her Daughter's! -- shoes she might have...

But, she hadn't done anything at all. Not until the voices went away.

The voices. Brand and her daughter, together. And when Nessie had pulled on her tail and sucked her thumb to finally calm herself, when the throbbing walls receded, the negro woman knew the... the problem, her problems weren't just hers anymore.

Life-destroying videos. Pictures. Prison. Her own warped and degraded... Nigger Nessie held it all in her mind. For Elaine, for Elly, Vanessa slowly turned her soothing little tug into... she pulled... puh-pulled her tail out of her tight, **** rectum.

It had hurt. Left her shaking and gasping and... empty. Vanessa had **** herself to her feet, and to dress in the only thing she could manage. Her daughter's bathrobe swished around her shoulders and tightened around her waist and... and the smell. Attending the smell, the female scent of her twitchy black hole was necessity. Like a good soldier, Vanessa armed herself - and ruffled plastic panties crinkled and snapped into place. Their shifty crinkling would be preferable to assaulting her daughter with the scent of her sickness, and - there was no more sneaking.

No more hiding. She was done. Vanessa didn't feel anything.

In plain sight, back straight, not checking if anyone would see her first - Vanessa exited her daughter's room, carrying the artifacts of her humiliation. Her tail and diaper in her hands, with poor Mister Fluffy squeezed under her arm. Down the hall, into the master bedroom, Vanessa set her proud not-pissy diaper in the trash, and the rest into the tub of the master bath.

Through her walk, and afterwards down the stairs, everything was distant. Happening to someone else. Each footstep was a jerky little shake of her world - a world passing her eyes like she was watching a movie.

Down. It was over. And while she'd never put it behind her - Nessie was done.

That was the only thing Vanessa felt, the only thing at all, before she saw her daughter's bare legs curled up underneath her on the couch, and Elaine's damp, white strappy shoes laying... just laying on the carpeted floor, out in the open.

That was the only thing Vanessa felt before she saw the sheer-dressed teenager partially wrapped in a towel, one beer-holding hand over the back of the couch, burying her face - literally sobbing into Brand's shoulder.

Nessie didn't know anything after that. Certainly not that she was done, that it was over. Not when Elly looked up, and looked over her shoulder.

Sniffling and turning her wrist out, Vanessa's baby girl wiped one eye with the edge of her palm and her delicate pinky. The crying little girl looked right at her mother, her eyes shiny and beautiful and full of tears... and smiled.

"Hi, Mom."

That almost-relief, that **** inside Vanessa, that supreme emptiness... filled up. Was no longer emptiness. Elly's teary smile opened the door to everything else - and in the blink of an eye, a single blink of long, teenage lashes...

Feelings Vanessa couldn't control nearly put her back on her knees, right on the spot. A raging torrent of fear and anxiety and love and white-hot -

Hot... Fear. Fear.

That one loving look, and the consequences and feelings she had blocked rushed back. That was all it took for Vanessa to remember that she wasn't strong.

She wasn't going to be strong.

And she wasn't going to expose herself.

Vanessa dropped her gaze, her guard, her everything.

She couldn't.

The nigger woman was completely unworthy to look her daughter in the eyes. In an instant her gaze had dropped to a full set of long, brown toes. Her daughter's. Toes that Nessie knew intimately, toes that loved to be free - in flip-flops or tennis shoes, if anything at all, wiggled in Vanessa's direction.

"I'm sorry, Elly."

Sorry. It was a cruel joke. Like 'sorry' could even begin to touch...

Vanessa turned her bruised face away, trying to avoid the coming storm inside her that, like the storm raging outdoors...

"Oh, Mom..."

Out of the corner of her eye, lip trembling, Vanessa... movement drew her eyes back.

Elly. Still snuggled close to... to Brand... too close... God - too close! ...Elly extended one hand to her mother. She reached out to bring Vanessa into their fold.

The loss of emptiness, the return of her feelings was a kind of hell to the negress. It wasn't just emotion that was returning. It was like... like previously her heart had stopped beating, her blood had stopped flowing - but then it started again. Blood pumped, and filled, and seemed to beat chaotically through tender, swollen bruises, though her breasts and face and joints and... the p-pain...

Without knowing how she got there, without remembering taking a step, Vanessa was standing, then kneeling, then wrapped up inside the dark and damp and impossibly warm, impossibly human space between her daughter and her daddy. Her daughter and her ****. Her tormentor.

Her boyfriend. Handsome and abusive and white, with his big arms enveloping two generations of **** black women.

"It's okay, Mom."

A hand, a young female hand, entered Vanessa's robe from the back of her neck, pulling it tight to her chest... and slid down the older woman's bare back, rubbing in comforting circles.

"Brand told me everything."

Brand? Told?

That...

That didn't make any sense.

Setting her beer bottle aside, Elly took the edge of her towel, and... in a gesture Vanessa didn't grasp until later, unwrapped it from her body. A corner gently dabbed a teardrop from Vanessa's cheek, a tear that she hadn't even known was there.

The towel fell from Elly's body, was allowed under her body - granting a safe little spot for Nessie to rest her weary, broken face on.

"Shhh..."

Nails, female nails stroked Vanessa's hair. Picked and played their way through locks and tangles.

"So you got into a fight at work. You still have your job, right?"

Nessie sniffled, and nodded into her towel... and into her daughter's bare knee.

Yes. She still had a job. A job as the diapered office slut. The bimbo office nigger. And - and if Elly ever found out any of it...

"It can't be so bad."

Nails scratched sweet circles through the pain and stress knotting Nessie's back..

It was worse. Unimaginably worse.

Elly could never, never know what her mother was.

Never. Vanessa would do anything.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Elaine shifted, just a bit, and the humid, sweet smothering feeling lessened as space opened - as Brand drew back and Elly's hands... the one giving her a backrub stopped, slowly slid out after a final rub.

Inside her robe, without her daughter's unwitting support, Nessie's tits sagged back into place.

A finger touched Vanessa's chin - insisting she rise from the comfort of her Elly's damp towel.

"Mom? Can I see?"

Vanessa kept her face bowed as much as she could and sh-shook her head - a sick sensation roiling in her stomach.

Elly had said 'a fight'.

What had Brand said? What did... what did 'everything' mean?

What did Vanessa's daughter think she was trying to see?

"It's okay. It's okay, Mom. Show me."

Elly's voice was just as gentle as before, just as caring. But this time - it wasn't a question. Or a request. And her fingers...

Acting blindly, without a story of her own to use, or a mind to invent, Vanessa didn't have a choice. The beaten colored woman responded to her daughter's oh-so-gentle touch under her chin. The bare whisper of contact **** her head up - to look straight up and show Elaine her mother's shame.

Vanessa's abused black face.

"Oh, wow." Elly gasped, and with one hand covered a horrified s-

Smile?

Oh... god. Vanessa had been so focused on herself...

How long had she been upstairs, clutching her tail? Masturbating her butthole to calm herself?

The bottle of beer. How many drinks had her daughter had?

The tipsy college student's hand dropped from her mouth, her expression again composed, and Elaine traced a finger across her mother's swollen cheekbone.

"Mom..." Elly sighed sadly, and rotated Vanessa's head.

"I can't believe you got into a fight at work." It was almost parental, the way she said it. The way Elaine was looking down at Vanessa and physically manipulating the older negress's head with her fingers.

"What were you thinking?" Elly's voice raised just a bit. Her thumb turned her mother's head the other way and - ouch! P-prodded one of Nessie's many, many dark - "Who was it? Who did this to you?"

Who...?

Desperately Vanessa glanced sideways - to Brand, who had been almost completely quiet, simply sipping his beer.

Anything. Please.

Brand came through. He helped p-protect... "You wouldn't believe it. I didn't. She was a tiny little thing. What was her name, again, Vanessa? Hannah?"

H-Hannah?

Hannah had beat her up?

Nessie bit her lip, and slowly nodded. "Ha-"

"Hannah..." Elly mused, frowning.

Oh, fuck.

Vanessa got her big negro brain working enough to remember what had triggered her fight, her real fight, with Hannah in the first place.

"She's new at work. An Asian girl. Young, just an intern, but she was interfering with some project - something about Cheryl. Hannah..." Brand frowned, and shrugged.

"Hannah," Elly repeated. The black teenager shook her head, rejected some idea. But that question, that light behind her eyes, persisted.

"Y-you might know her, Elly," Vanessa blurted.

Together, slowly, Brand and Elly turned to the battered negress.

Sh-shit.

Vanessa couldn't help herself. It was out, and some irresistable need to confess, to hurt and... "Elly - she s-said, um, she knew... from high school - "

Vanessa's daughter grabbed either side of the older woman's downcast brown face, and turned Nessie's head up.

"Hannah?!" Elly's short, incredulous laugh shook Vanessa to the core.

"Mom - you got into a fight with Hannah Kawaguchi?!"

Just outside Vanessa's sight, Brand's own genuinely surprised, more mirthful laugh stole Elly's attention. "Elaine - you know her? Hannah?"

"I..." The black teen straightened her back and looked away from Nessie, expression bewildered - and almost absently left her mother's smooshed and immobile face stuck... stuck and a-almost **** to s-stare.

Vanessa stared at, and through, sheer, her daughter's clingy white ...

Transparent white - that revealed an extraordinary pair of brown swells and curves beneath. Big female orbs, firm and upright, mashed together by forward-thrust shoulders, cupped and concealed by more lacy white, and tipped by two cold, wet, p-pokey little -

Elly's teenaged boobs shook with suppressed laughter, right in Nessie's face.

"Mom!"

Elaine's attention was back on her.

"Mom! Hannah Kawaguchi beat you up?!"

The negress's bottom lip trembled.

"It was a kind of... jealousy. A threat to your mother's position, and her relationship with Cheryl from my understanding, that started everything," Brand supplied - somehow sounding simultaneously somber and amused.

That was when Elly's laughter really got rolling.

Vanessa's head was released as her daughter curled up her knees, balling up in laughter. Her emotions - from tears with Brand, to concern for her mother, to... the young woman's emotions were unstable, and intoxicated.

And honest.

"M-mom... you were jealous?" Elly gasped in a lull of laughter, breathing and clutching her stomach.

And - and Vanessa, overwhelmed and with s-so much to confess that... that it was like truth was being squeezed out of her skull, n-nodded.

Almost nodded herself right into a face full of kicking teenage foot.

"You were jealous of... how could you possibly be jealous? Of Hannah Kawa- of...?!"

Nessie flinched out of kick range, but couldn't save herself from - panties. Long, toned, brown thighs contrasted with real upskirt panties that flashed Nessie but... she wasn't trying t-t-to...

Flat hands squeezed between her legs, Nessie started quietly crying.

"Elly. Elly - don't be too hard on your mother," Brand sobered, and although his voice was gentle it carried... maleness.

Paternal authority, that Vanessa recognized all too well. That she felt in her bones.

D-daddy.

The effect Brand had on Vanessa's little girl was almost instantaneous. The laughing mostly subsided, and Nessie could see her daughter's big brown eyes look up at the older man.

"We were just talking about jealousy, about feelings, before your mother came down." He was talking down to Elly... and Vanessa. Lecturing a moment after instigating the teen girl, after laughing at Nessie by her daughter's side. "She's had a very hard week, and been very sensitive about you."

With sudden clarity, Vanessa saw how **** Elly was. How confused. She was Elaine's mother. She - she should have...

"Oh, Mom. Oh, god, Mom, I'm sorry." Elly sniffled, and smirked, and... and... "I'm sorry. I've felt like such a dolt today and I... I just pictured H-Hannah sneaking around all... and..." A pair of brown feet, long toes with clear-laquered nails curled apologetically into the cushion in front of Nessie, grasping fabric and spreading.

Dazed, Nessie lost whatever she had fooled herself into thinking.

The negress slid her eyes over... u-up. Up! And nodded, trying, really trying to keep her attention on her daughter's face, and o-off...

On her face. On Elly's eyes.

Her girl's eyes. Elly's, Elaine's eyes - the girl that she remembered. That cared about her. That had made Vanessa's world. Even if Vanessa had worked late, even if she hadn't always been perfect, Elaine was her first, her only, her... Elly was the serious, the happy and sweet girl who had stuck by Vanessa through hardship and divorce. Who had always been beautiful and courageous and responsible and... and...

"I think I'd like another drink, Nessie. Be a good girl, would you?" An empty brown bottle flashed and wagged in the air, distracting the negress.

Vanessa nodded instinctively, and grabbed the shiny object in both hands.

Nessie's eyes darted. Back and forth.

It took a moment for her to see herself. But she did. She saw herself belittled in front of her daughter, and allowing Brand to sit alone with -

"And Elaine, too - Elly would you like another beer?"

"N-no...!" The word and came out of a place deep inside Nessie, a primal place - and exited hed lips stronger than Vanessa ever intended.

Elly flinched.

... And then frowned, glancing at Brand in embarrassment, then her mother with - not embarrassment.

Vanessa felt her own little flinch, and struggled to keep it in check.

"She's an adult, Nessie," Brand chided, and smiled at Elaine. "Adult enough that you can forget the peach flavor on hers."

Elly's serious look got a little confused. After a moment she looked to the white man that...

They were so, painfully, close together.

"Ask your mom about it." Brand grinned guilessly, "You've never tasted anything quite so strange. Your mother insisted we try it with some guests."

Nessie stood - shooting straight up before her knees were ready; and almost fell over herself.

"I'll get you your - " Nessie grasped for Elly's empty bottle.

"Jesus, Mom!"

In an instant, two young hands closed the front of Nessie's open robe. Elly's robe. And after closing her front, they pulled the belt tight around Vanessa's waist.

Oh... god.

"Sorry," Nessie mumbled to her daughter.

H-had she crinkled, too? She had. How bad?

Was Elly - could she smell? Hear? Was she...

"Take your time, Vanessa" Brand noted pleasantly. "It'll give Elly and I a chance to talk about James."

Oh, god.