Start off as their cheerleader

Cameramen are there recording the event as you arrive at the mansion locale for the first time in a limoscene with one of the producers (and as you will soon learn, the host), a thin middle-aged man with thinning greased back hair named Roger. Your enthusiam is evident as you wave innocently at one of the cameras and smile, then gasp admiringly at the impressive old plantation house that will be the setting. Roger leads you inside, revealing modern design and decor with minimal furnishings and walls and lots of mirrored surfaces (and of course little cameras everywhere) before leading you outside onto the gorgeous patio to enjoy a stimulating fizzy beverage and conduct a soft interview. You reveal that you were raised in a strict but supportive christian home in a "whitebread" little town, and that despite the interest you attracted as a cheerleader, you have limited sexual experience. You blink your big blue eyes innocently as you admit that you hope to meet "the one" on this show!

"The one?" Roger inquires, and you're **** to elaborate explicitly (red-faced, of course) that you mean the one who will take your virginity. "I'm ready for it to happen," you declare, thrusting your chest out and smiling bravely. When he asks you about your type of guy, you insist what matters is what's on the inside and insist that you won't eliminate any of the men just because of how they look. When pressed on appearance, you defer to the "tall, dark and handsome" cliche.

"Taller than you shouldn't be hard to manage," Roger observed. "What does dark mean?"

"Darker than me!" you laugh, flashy a toothy grin and you gesture at your honey-blonde hair. "You know, dark hair, dark eyes, I guess..." you laugh, trailing off.

"Darker skin?" Roger suggests, and you laugh some more, more nervously this time.

"Maybe!" you allow, your blue eyes wide and your teeth gritted in a could-you-imagine expression. "Obviously there's a limit..." you mumble through a **** smile, your eyes locked on something far in the distance as you bite your lip, apparently contemplating a taboo.

That thought is interrupted and forgotten for the moment as what sounds like hooting and hollering can be heard in the distance, from the far side of the yard. Roger tells you that it's almost time to meet the contestants. "That's them you're hearing, they're already here and playing basketball together," Roger informs you. "All they're missing is a cheerleader." You smile and nod glassy-eyed, not really getting what he's saying but excited to meet your suitors.

The crew introduces you to a middle-aged black woman named Janeeta, your make-up and wardrobe assistant. "Oh, servants!" you greet her eagerly (Janeeta remains stone-faced at your remark). You realize that you are still in your travelling clothes, which obviously won't do for the recording, so Janeeta leads you upstairs to change. You are oblivious to the fact that you are still being recording as you strip, enjoy a nice hot shower and spend a half-hour wearing only thong panties as Janeeta does your make-up and hair.

The boys outside sound boisterous, even aggressive with one another, by the time you are ready to dress. You are surprised when Janeeta brings you clothing that fits in one hand instead of a fancy formal gown. You start critisizing her before you even inspect what turns out to be a adorable little white, pink and yellow cheer outfit made out of a lycra-type material. "Oh, fun! I'm going to be a cheerleader!" you tell Janeeta, bouncing on your toes in excitement and jiggling your naked breasts in a most delightful way for the hidden cameras (Janeeta betrays no reaction, of course). You put the costume on, which is certainly tighter and more revealing than any you wore in high school or college, with the pleated skirt far north of mid-knee and the top scooped low in the back to negate the use of a bra. The appearance appeared more an approximation of how a strip-show or porno would present a cheerleader, but of course you'd never seen anything like that, so you just thought it was thrilling.

The cameramen are back to record your journey down the central staircase once you've finished getting ready and put your hair in pigtails. You greet Roger with an enthusiastic rustle of the little pon-poms you'd been equipped with, an after a chaste hug he leads you out the front door and around the side where it sounds like the basketball intensity has only risen further. You try to hide your nerves behind a wide smile as you turn the corner...

The cameras are there to record your momentary recoil, your face creasing in disbelief at a cast of men that appear to have been rounded up from an inner-city ghetto. Two dozen black men, their bodies glistening from effort under the sun, turned to see the pretty new arrival; some were skinny and some were muscular (only a few were heavy) and all were either shirtless or wearing vests or T-shirts in addition to shorts and running shoes, and most of those exposing torsos had prominent tattoos. There were only six playing right now, leaving most of them sitting around drinking and cussing.

Afraid to stop moving entirely, you will yourself to keep putting one foot in front of the other as you timidly approach the gang, your eyes scanning in vain for a single white boy. 'My daddy isn't going to like this one bit,' you think to yourself as the men leer at you openly. 'I've never even met a negro before, how am I going to date all these guys?'

"This is Jane, our Interracial Bachelorette," Roger announces proudly, causing your eyes to bug out of your head as the men cheer and high-five. "Gentleman, enough practice, now it's time to start the tournament, and whichever team of three wins gets the first shot tonight." Then he turns to you, looking pale and shocked but trying to maintain a brave smile. "Miss Doe, I suggest you get familiar with our contestants in a hurry, and if you're any good as a cheerleader, you may be able to influence which guys get to spend the night with you tonight."