tagBDSMMy Wife's Black Master Ch. 01

My Wife's Black Master Ch. 01

byq-tip©

My name is Jay and I work in radio. That sounds like the introduction at an AA meeting, and many people who work in radio will tell you that it’s an addiction also. I work at a small station in California’s Central Valley. That rich agricultural area that stretches for hundreds of miles down the center of California, and is dotted with little farming communities.

I’m 35, my wife Jane is 25, we’ve been married for 5 years and in that time I’ve worked at 5 different radio stations in 5 different states. Most people in the industry will tell you that’s not unusual. Jane will tell you that I’m a loser.

The station I work at is small and plays country music. There used to be a saying in radio that “if in doubt, play country.” In California’s Central Valley the saying is: “if in doubt, go Spanish.” Since I don’t speak Spanish, I’m glad we haven’t. I work the 11 p.m. to 5 a.m. shift. There’s really not much to do. Put on a CD, play commercials (the station still uses cassettes), run the tape of the news, weather, and sports, and read an occasional PSA (public service announcement). Our paying advertisers usually aren’t happy to learn that their spot ran at 3:00 in the morning, so mostly we just run PSAs.

If you’ve ever heard that radio pays well let me put that notation to rest. Oh sure, it pays incredibly well at big stations in major markets. But here in Podunkville, it pays just above the poverty level.

I’m a pretty average guy, except that I have a good voice and a nasty addiction to trying to make a living using it. My wife, Jane, on the other hand, is gorgeous. Long dark, almost black hair, green eyes, she’s about 5’6” tall. Wonderful body, fantastic breasts. When she’s walking away from me, naked, I can see the bulge of her breasts on either side of her, if you know what I mean. She’s a firm, beautiful D cup with pale pink nipples and areola. When she’s naked, facing me, I can see daylight at the top of her thighs, where they meet just below her pussy.

Unfortunately, when she’s naked in front of me, she usually has her hands on her hips and her mouth moving a mile a minute. And when she’s naked walking away, she actually stomping and still letting me have it. I guess you could say that she’s unhappy with our current situation. Living in a small crappy rented house, moving every year, scrapping to get by, I can see her point, but I love what I do.

I was asleep at 11:00 in the morning when I heard the telephone ring. Usually that doesn’t bother me, but this morning for some reason I woke up. I could hear Jane talking on the phone, arguing with somebody, but trying to be quiet.

“You bastard,” I heard her say.

She listened for a minute. “Damn it, all right you bastard. But only this once. Like you promised me.”

More listening. “OK. Be here about 1:00 in the morning. And come to the backdoor. I don’t want anybody to see. And don’t try to be funny.”

What the fuck was this? 1:00 in the morning, I’d be working. The backdoor? What the hell?

I tried to get back to sleep, but couldn’t. Jane of course was her usual charming self until I left for work about 10:00 p.m. We hadn’t had sex in several months, and I don’t think she’d enjoyed it much when we did. But I missed it. I missed it a lot.


At the station I recorded that night’s announcements and PSAs. I often do that in advance anyway. I don’t like the idea of waking from a semi-slumber at 2:00 and fumbling for paper and sounding like I need to clear my throat.

Vern, the engineer was late, as usual. I don’t really know why we had an engineer on anyway, he didn’t do much, but Vern was an OK guy. He looks a little like Tommy Chong, and I think he was a hippie back in the 60’s. He’s been around radio forever, and he’s pretty sure that music peaked with “The Grateful Dead.”

Pretty much all we do at night is put on a CD, put on the news, weather, and sports tape at 5 minutes to the hour, stick in an occasional spot, and read a PSA now and then. Most of the time I don’t even announce the music, I just let the CD play. Hell, both of our listeners already know the music much better than I do.

It was 12:30 when I told Vern that I had to go out for a while and asked him to cover. I’d done it dozens of time for him and he had no problem doing it for me. He asked what the next CD should be and I gave him one by a particular artist. Vern loves this guy; he doesn’t like the singer at all, doesn’t like any country music actually. But ever since he heard the rumor that this guy is gay, he thinks playing his music in this community is the funniest kind of joke there is.

It was 10 minutes to 1:00 when I parked the car. Our little rented house sits at the end of a run down block. Behind the house is a “green belt,” which in this case means some trees and weeds, which extend to the next street. I parked on the other side of the “green belt” and made my way to our backyard.

Our house and backyard are small, cluttered, and overgrown with the weeds that the landlord refused to take care of. It was very dark, but I knew where everything was, and made my way close to the backdoor, diving for cover when the back porch light came on.

A few minutes late I heard footsteps coming around the house, and watched in amazement as a young guy moved under the light. He was perhaps in high school, maybe college. Tall, strong looking, good looking too, and very black. I immediately hated the bastard.

He knocked, and I saw Jane answer the door, she wasn’t smiling.

“Well, come in,” she said.

The best part of our crappy little house is the patio that has two sets of sliding glass doors that enter both the living room and the bedroom. The bad part was that the cheap vinyl curtains didn’t do much to block the view inside. Tonight that was a good thing. It was May, but May in the Central Valley can be warm and Jane had left both doors open a little.

I moved as silently as I could to the patio and peeked in.

“Listen cunt, I’ve had enough of your attitude,” I heard the guy say. Oh boy, that’s the kind of talk Jane loves! She’s going to have his nuts on the wall, I thought.

“I caught you, you know I caught you, and that I have a nice security tape of you trying to lift that clothing from the store,” he continued.

“Oh shit,” I thought.

“And,” he continued. “I don’t care if your husband’s so pathetic that you don’t have any money. If I want, I can send you to jail. Are we clear?”

The comment about her husband hurt, but the sudden look of fear on Jane’s face was interesting. I couldn’t believe it, seeing her look like that was getting me excited. I found myself breathing a little harder.

“Do you fucking understand me cunt?” he was almost shouting now.

“Yes,” Jane said very quietly.

Suddenly his hand was on her face, squeezing her cheeks together. “Its ‘yes Sir’ to you.”

“Yes Sir,” she said her lips pushed into a pout by his fingers.

“Good, we understand each other. Tonight you’re my bitch, my whore, my cunt. That’s what you agreed to, isn’t it cunt?”

“Yes Sir,” her eyes were looking down but I couldn’t help but notice, from the rise and fall of her breasts, that her breathing was rapid.

“Yes Sir what? Christ, don’t make me drag every goddamn word out of you.”

“Yes Sir. Tonight I’m your bitch, your whore, your cunt.” Jane’s face was red, to my amazement my cock was rock hard in my jeans.

“That’s good bitch,” the young man smiled as he walked around my wife. His hands trailing over her body like he owned her. Her face, her arms, her breasts. For the first time I really noticed what Jane was wearing. A light summer sundress, her breasts moved freely when he squeezed them, she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“This looks like one of the dresses you stole. Is it?”

“Yes Sir,” Jane said.

“That’s good, you look good in it. But tonight you’ll refer to yourself as ‘your cunt,’ or ‘your whore;’ or ‘your slut.’ Do you understand bitch?”

“Yes Sir,” Jane’s face was beet-red, as was the top of her chest. “Your cccccunt is glad the you like the way she looks.”

Her dress was shaking! Her body was trembling as she said this.

“That’s good bitch. Now show me your whore tits.”

“Yes Sir,” it was barely a whisper as Jane slid the sundress down to her waist. Her beautiful full breasts open to his gaze. Her nipples where red and erect. The red blotch that I had seen on the top of her chest extended much further and was much redder than I had initially thought. Could this be a flush of excitement?

For the first time I heard the radio playing in the background. I heard it because I could hear myself announcing a pancake breakfast for some youth group.

“This excites you doesn’t it bitch?”

I watched as Jane nodded her head without speaking.

The young man moved quickly, much more quickly than I would have thought possible. Grabbing Jane’s nipple hard between his fingers he jerked her almost off her feet.

“Don’t just nod bitch, answer me like I taught you.”

“Awwwww. Yes Sir. Your bitch is excited. Oh god,” Jane moaned.

“That’s better. Take the rest of that dress off,” he ordered.

I watched as Jane quickly stepped out of her dress, her naked body visible. She was trembling.

“Touch your cunt. Tell me if you’re wet for me yet,” he ordered

I watched again as she pushed her right hand between her thighs, her finger sinking into her pussy.

“Ohhhhh god. Your cunt is dripping Sir,” she was moaning.

“Take out my cock, whore, show me how you give head,” he was enjoying this.

Without a word Jane dropped to her knees, fumbling with his belt, she soon had his cock out of his pants. I watched in amazement as Jane’s mouth closed around it. His cock was very black. Not too long, no longer than mine, but very thick. About as thick as Jane’s fist. Her mouth was stretched as she licked and sucked it. Jane hadn’t put her mouth on my cock since we were dating. Said she didn’t like it, didn’t do anything for her.

He was looking at her, his hands stroking her hair as she slobbered on his black cock. She was making love to that prick, lost in the sensations, moaning, touching his balls. I was shocked when I looked at the carpet beneath her, it had turned dark where she was dripping on it.

“You want me to fuck you don’t you cunt?” he was pulling her head up by the hair.

“Oh yes Sir. Your whore would love for you to fuck her,” Jane was panting, saliva dripping on her chin.

When he bent her over the chair, her face was only inches from the sliding glass door. Inches from my face. I couldn’t see his cock penetrate her, but I saw the look on her face. I saw her eyes grow wide, her mouth open fully; I could hear the very loud groan. Hell, the neighbors could hear that groan.

“Oh god. You’re so big. Ssssir.”

“Do you want me to fuck your slut cunt?” he demanded.

“Ohhhh yeesss. Please fuck my slut cunt, Sir. Fuck me with your big cock. Fuck me with your big cock. Fuck me with your big cock,” over and over again. Like a chant, as he slammed into her.

Her eyes sprang open again as he moved his thumb to her asshole. Jane had never allowed me anywhere near her ass. She moaned as he pushed it inside her.

“Don’t you cum bitch,” he order. “You’re here to service me, you understand me?” He was slamming her hard.

“Oh god,” panting. “Oh god Sir. I’ll …” She was having a hard time of it. “I might not be able to help it Sir.”

“Who?” he slapped her ass. Hard.

“Your cunt may not be able to help it Sir. I’m so close. Ohhhh.”

“If you cum without my permission, you’ll be punished.”

“Yes Sir,” he was slamming her hard, trying to make her cum.

“OOOOOOOHHHHHHH,” she exploded. Screaming. I quickly looked at his face, he was cumming too.

My cock was throbbing in my hand, leaking pre-cum. But I wasn’t ready yet. I wanted to fuck my wife.

His cock popped as he pulled it out of her pussy. She moaned again, and slid to the floor.

“Shit bitch. I told you not to cum and you did anyway,” he looked disappointed, but I’m guessing he wasn’t really.

“Your whore is sorry Sir. She couldn’t help herself,” Jane was still panting, a puddle was forming under her.

“OK bitch. You’re going to be punished. I’ll be back tomorrow, same time. And I want to see that pussy shaved when I get here. You understand me? And, don’t bother wearing anything. I’ll want you naked.”

Jane’s eyes widened again. “But, you said just this once and we’d be even.”

His hands where on her cheeks again, pinching her face, his nose only inches from hers. “You’ll be punished bitch, and I’ll be back tomorrow night. Just remember, I’ve got you on tape, breaking the law.” Her head jerked when he let go.

Her eyes looking down, her knees drawn up, it was a very quiet Jane that answered: “yes Sir. Your bitch will be ready for you.”

“And, for giving me trouble, give your husband a nice blow job when he gets home from work. You listening to me? I want you to suck him off and swallow. Don’t tell him why. Just do it.”

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