Becoming Black-Owned, Jean

Still, Penelope seemed traumatized when I met her! Even so... I could still see that the crotch of her pants looked soaked from her juices, so she also must have been very turned on! That's one seriously committed hot slut, I thought to myself--and with a sexy figure to die for... Perhaps even a better, plumper ass than my own, even... incredible hips... a gorgeous rack... and an adorably face with gorgeous curls.

The other two girls who I had started with, Melanie and Daphne, had been kicked out. Apparently Daphne had been caught masturbating to orgasm during a discipline break, and Melanie lacked sufficient enthusiasm at rimming,

The face-fucking benches were a rapidly adjustable height, and they had a special head support so that a girl's head would be supported while tilted back, while she lay on her back. It was rather ingenious, to be sure! This made it easier for a Black Master to push his huge cock down into a girl's throat--just like in those throat-fucking porno videos you may have seen.

If any of you reading this have been "face-fucked" or "throat-fucked," you know that even if you are skilled, it can be a rough time with a large cock in your throat! The Masters knew this, too, and mercifully only expected half-an-hour a night of throat fucking, every other night, from us three sluts while we were being broken in.

Most of the time, we sluts were allowed to masturbate ourselves to orgasm with our hands inside our pants before "de-benching"--the slang the Masters had come up with as though a face-fucking bench was a piece of sports equipment, like a balance beam in gymnastics, I guess. However, to keep us anxious and unsure, about every third or fourth face-fucking night--and sometimes even twice in a row--we would be made to go home without cumming. It was so stressful not knowing if all the sexuality would include some release or not!

Several qualities made this phase the hardest of the whole initial breaking in. First of all, it was hard to only be with our Masters for about an hour every other night. It was much less contact and togetherness than felt right. (Unfortunately, the Masters only needed a certain amount of makeout time, and they found it most effective to allocate it primarily to Phase One sluts, I later learned.) Second, being again punished with occasional "nights off" was grueling, just as in the first phase; it was even tougher to endure the anxiety that you might not be brought back to resume the course. Certainly, the visits with no orgasms were hard. Finally, even though the amount of throat-fucking per visit was manageable, it turned out that the phase was unendingly long in duration--a number of days that quickly stretched into weeks... that then stretched into months!

We dared not ask questions as to why Phase Two of our training was so long. At about day fifty, something snapped inside me, and I resigned myself that it might just last a year, and that I needed to live with that because being with the BAC Masters was worth it to me.

After about a hundred days, my spirit simply broke. Instead of feeling like a strong and independent young woman, like I had before starting on "breaking in," now I felt like little more than a convenient and disposable piece of "pleasure flesh" for Black Masters.

But in many ways, I didn't mind! Instead, I felt a sense of peace at my new identity as "BAC Masters' pleasure-flesh." Being their pleasure-flesh fit perfectly with my sexual and feminine needs. It's probably hard to understand for anyone who is not also a submissive slut to Black Masters.

Much of my personal ambition was slipping away now that I was so absorbed in being pleasure-flesh for the BAC Masters. I was still attending college classes. However, where I used to strive for As, now I was happy to get Bs and Cs.

The BAC Masters also dictated the sexual chores and sexual release to be accorded my white Cucky, as mentioned before. Yes, "Cucky," was what I called Rob once my breaking in had started. I found out later that if I hadn't kept Rob as a cuckold, I would have been required by the Masters to recruit one to stay in my dorm with me!

Cucky was ambivalent. On the one hand, he was embarrassed, degraded, despondent, and humiliated. However, on the other hand, he was incredibly aroused, excited, and enthusiastic. Cucky was a mess of different feelings! I am pretty sure he would have preferred if he could have had at least *some* mercy sex. I never did even fuck him once after my first Black guy, Devin. Never even "goodbye" sex, never "I'm sorry" sex, not even a single sympathy fuck!

Instead, an hour before I went to my first "breaking in" meeting at the Club, I gave Cucky a "goodbye" make-out session with a "goodbye" handjob--and only a handjob. I also made sure to taunt him during it. I let him know that this would probably be the last time I would ever French kiss him and the last time I would touch my skin to his little dick. My taunts seemed to really turn him on. He would moan, kiss me harder, harden yet more in my hand, and ooze more precum with each taunt. On some level, Cucky loved this!

Once breaking in started, indeed I kept true to those taunts and promises. I never did French kiss him again. I never did let his five-inch dick touch my skin--only a gloved hand, and only when ordered by Macolm.

Cucky's first requirement--besides celibacy and orgasm-deprivation, of course--was that he had to listen for ten minutes a night right when I got home from the Clubhouse to me telling him the highlights from being with the Black Masters each evening.

We would sit a few feet apart in my living/dining area; he was required to have his dick out; and I would regale him with the highlights. This would ALWAYS make him hard and cause him to ooze precum, and he would beg for release. I would set a timer, and sometimes I would taunt him by ending a juicy bit right when the ten-minute timer went off. It was a bit cruel. However, on some level, my sense was that he liked it!

On those nights where I had been allowed to orgasm, I typically told Cucky how just masturbating with my BAC Masters present, my orgasms were far more powerful than anything he had ever given me! And on those nights where I had been denied orgasm, I told him that just being aroused and near my Black Masters was more sexually gratifying than cumming from fucking him! He was constantly humiliated--and titillated!

After the first couple of weeks, the Masters also occasionally sent me a photo or short video clip to show to Cucky as I was recounting the night's activities. This further excited and gratified him. Frankly, he was lucky that the Masters directed me to do this. I'm not sure I would have given him the satisfaction if it were just up to me. Cucky got especially excited seeing pictures or clips of me mouth kissing with a Master I barely knew or had never met before--an intimacy that he was now completely denied with me or with anyone!

It was a given that Cucky was not allowed to masturbate in private or do anything sexual at all outside my presence. He was told that if he did, not only would I break off what remained of our relationship, but he would be publicly tormented using recordings I had been instructed to make of him masturbating to the interracial content.

There were various ways of deciding if Cucky would be permitted to masturbate to orgasm in front of me on any given night. Nearly all the time, he would be limited to beating off while sitting on an opposite chair in my dorm room, required to leave his shirt on, and with me fully clothed across from him. Even though watching him cum would turn me on a tiny bit still, I was not allowed to feed his ego by showing it, nor to masturbate myself. My next cum could only be at the Masters' party the next time--if then!

Cucky then had to sleep on the hardwood floor next to my bed, with just a thin yoga mat as a cushion. Sometimes the Masters told me to even withhold the yoga mat.

Commonly, I was to make Cucky pick a playing card from several in my hand. His odds would vary. I might only have two cards in my hand, or I might have ten! The rules would vary, too. I would always say "I'll tell you the rules after!" About once a week or so, the Masters would cruelly direct me just to tease him, to use, say, seven cards, and then tell him after he picked one, "The rules are there is no correct card tonight. You may not cum tonight!" A few times, to instill a little extra fear, I was directed to do this to Cucky two, three, or even five or six times in a row!

On nights where I was not at the Club, neither of us was allowed to cum, making us both even more worked up. And, remember, during Phase Two, I was at the Club being face-fucked only every other night! This interval served two purposes. Yes, it trained me to get used to orgasm denial, for sure. However, it also seemed enough time for my throat to recover from the vigorous workouts.

The Masters also made it clear that if ever Cucky seemed exceptionally turned on from my telling him about my time at the Clubhouse, I should feel free to torment him by either denying him masturbation--or even by ordering him to stop part way in. The latter was especially unkind, of course. I'm a little embarrassed that I enjoyed doing that to Cucky. Yet it seemed to satisfy him in some perverse way. When next I finally did allow him to come, sometimes Cucky let on that the earlier denial had sweetened it for him.

I did notice that whenever Cucky was deprived for more than a week, in the first few months, he would beg me profusely. I started to find his begging annoying and repulsive so finally asked Malcolm's advice on how to handle it. On his advice, the next time Cucky started to whine, I said, "No whining little Cucky! Master Malcolm said that if I tell him that you have whined again, he's going to visit us and punish you physically. He might do something disgusting and humiliating to you--or maybe he will just punch you in the chest until he hears your ribs crack. He isn't sure." Cucky Rob got in line and never whined again. He did whimper a little, though!

About once every three to five weeks, to help keep him emotionally connected to me--and only following long stretches of Cucky's good behavior--Malcolm instructed me to cuddle Cucky and kiss his ears and neck. However, absolutely no mouth kissing! Also I was commanded to beat Cucky's little dick off with my hands on these occasions, actually touching his repulsive short white dick, but fortunately wearing latex gloves.

I could tell Cucky appreciated this very infrequent and irregular intimacy. He would always thank me profusely, like a pathetic loser, and tell me to thank the Masters, too. I would always reply something like, "I will do you a favor and NOT thank the Masters! They would not appreciate being distracted by you and your pathetic little 'wants'! Just be glad that they want your minimal needs met and prefer you in the picture! If it were up to me alone, I'm not so sure!"

Once or twice, when I was feeling a little more beneficent towards Cucky than usual, I asked him why he did, in fact, hang around in such pitiful conditions. "Simple, Mistress," he would tell me. "It's incredibly hot seeing how aroused and satisfied you are by the Black Masters, and it connects right in with all my submissive interracial fantasies I have been developing in secret these past few years. Our sex life this way is **WAY** more satisfying than another kind of sex life that I might have. Just like your orgasms are better this way, admittedly mine are, too!"

I thought it was pathetic, but even though I pretended otherwise, I enjoyed having Cucky as a beta cuckold to boss around and torment. It was a good release for me to come home to him after an evening of being dominated by the Masters and then get to dominate him. I liked hearing him call me "Mistress" and doing anything I wanted without question. The Masters, in their wisdom, must have learned over the years that us white sluts would perform better for them in the long run with a white cuckold at home. It made a lot of sense to me, as the months unfolded.

But enough about me and Cucky--at least for now.

Finally, after about a hundred and sixty days of being a face-fucked throat slut every other night, FINALLY I moved on to Phase Three as did Penelope. Poor Elaine was left at Phase Two a little longer. The Masters found it amusing to be unpredictable with each of us. They tormented Elaine by telling her it was because she was a worse face-pussy. I privately wondered if actually Elaine was better at being a face-pussy, and they didn't want to part with her face and throat as quickly as mine and Penelope's... Or it might have been that my bubble butt and Penelope's are juicier than Elaine's, and after all, the next phase was centered on anal sex.

Of course, no girl can take anal at the amounts that inexperienced guys or girls might fantasize--nor without preparation. Every slut starting Phase Three was given a special four-week prep break to stay home. We were allowed to masturbate as much as we wanted--but it had to be while watching the Masters' selected interracial porn--and we had to use a series of progressively larger butt plugs to prepare our rear end. They also gave us some pills and a cream to help the tissues in our rear to relax and stretch.

During this break, I truly missed the Masters, but at least I had lots of orgasms from masturbating to take the edge off! And then Malcolm was very sweet and called me about once a week to check in and encourage me.

Cucky, too, had a holiday of sorts. He was instructed to watch interracial porn alongside me, and was allowed an orgasm roughly every third night while I was home. By his own hands only, of course. I still kept it unpredictable for him. What kind of mistress would I be if I made my beta cuckold's life easy?

Finally, the full Phase Three routine started. Penelope and I, and this other girl, Amanda--a sexy little young-Jennifer Anniston look-alike--started it at the same time. Amanda was a transfer student who was reassigned from the affiliated BAC at her prior school. We were to be granted a full hour of heavy petting at the start of the evening again! How exciting, and what a joy! Then, we would be moved to a "mount"--a custom-built BAC contraption that would support a slut comfortably on all fours, so we didn't have to worry about our limbs getting tired. We were also blindfolded so we didn't know which Master was doing what with us once we were "mounted." ("Mounted" was the dehumanizing and dominant expression the Masters used for when we got on the "mounts" for anal sex.) Many aspects of the mounts were adjustable, and the Masters usually chose to put us "face down, ass up" for their enjoyment.

This was also the first Phase during which we were allowed to remove any clothing, besides shoes or outerwear. In fact, as soon as we entered the Clubhouse each evening, Penelope, Amanda, and I were required to remove our pants or skirts. Dresses were not allowed, because they did not allow the Masters the slut-body access options they preferred. Our panties stayed on until a Master making out with us felt we had earned having them removed.

When a Master would remove my panties, I would always feel a sense of accomplishment, and a surge of pride and excitement would rush through me. Naturally, I would get even wetter then! It was difficult to hold back from begging to be fucked, but I knew speaking when not spoken to would be frowned upon and often punished.

Once in a while, I'm sure just to keep us uncertain and anxious, one of us would be sent home *instead* of having her panties removed. This was both insulting and intensely frustrating! It brought on a deep sense of humiliation, shame, and failure. Yet it had to be endured.

Within anywhere from two to twenty minutes after our panties were off was when we would be "mounted" for next steps.

Fairly consistently--but not quite always!--to get us primed and ready for anal sex, we would be masked and anonymously finger-fucked and our clits played with until we came! For the first time, the Masters were giving us orgasms through direct contact!! **YYYYYESSS**!!!!!!!

Getting fingered to orgasm felt so amazing after what was *months* of masturbation-only orgasms. Beyond that, it was psychologically a huge relief and intensely gratifying to feel--at last--that I had been deemed *worthy* by the Masters of being directly pleasured by them! While I knew on one level it was a practical step to make sure I was relaxed enough to be ass-fucked, that didn't diminish my satisfaction much.

Only a moment after the orgasm, an anonymous, massive cock would be in my ass. Not too fast at first, but eventually a hard, deep, and thorough ass fucking.

To my initial surprise, I found I liked the sensations from being butt-fucked. Yet even more than the sensations, I reveled in the feeling of accomplishment. I knew only special girls like us elite sluts--after the right training regimen and the right motivation--could accept and satisfy our Masters with our tight and forbidden holes.

I had never let anyone in my butthole before my anonymous Black Masters--not even to finger it. Now, anonymous BAC Masters were taking my ass regularly. It was hot!

I felt so wickedly submissive that I had volunteered to proceed into this third Phase of my initiation. It was so taboo! And it felt good! And I felt so proud and womanly that I could accommodate BBCs this way!

After just a couple of minutes of butt fucking, generally I would notice that I was moaning and drooling!

Cucky was incredibly jealous, by the way, that he had never been allowed to butt fuck me, and that now even anonymous Masters--some were total strangers from out-of-town, we were told--were routinely offered my ass!

It surprised me initially that every guy who butt-fucked me only lasted a few minutes. This seemed odd for a Black Master. Then I realized it was a strategy. The Masters got very close to coming through some other means--perhaps a face fuck--before fucking us sluts in the ass. They were shrewd and knew that not even the strongest sluts could physically take it in the ass for long. In total each of these nights, it must have been three or four guys but only about fifteen or twenty minutes of ass-fucking... It's a lot of time to be fucked in the ass, really. Anything more than just a couple of minutes was a lot of time, in my opinion!

As I mentioned before, I have a very feminine bubble butt, and nice hips to go with it, and I could tell everyone at my back door was excited to be there. I felt nicely powerful in my seductive qualities, even while it was such a degrading and submissive act. The contrast between the feminine seductive aspect and the aggressive, dominant/submissive nature of ass-fucking was poignant to me, and I got *very* excited EVERY time!

The Masters could tell how excited I got from their ass-fucking, and mercifully they would occasionally give me a second orgasm afterwards by their beefy fingers--sometimes quickly and other times quite slowly--before sending me home. Some of them wanted to do it more often, but Malcolm laid down the law, emphasizing that sexual frustration was a key component of breaking me in as "their slut."

By the way, just like my own masturbating at the Club, being finger-fucked by the Masters was also much, much more satisfying than even the best sex I'd ever had with Cucky. It was such a huge contrast. What's the right metaphor? Maybe Cucky was like moldy crackers from a garbage can while the Masters were like the best lobster dinner you could imagine? It's very hard to compare.

From the variety of sensations, I had the sense that perhaps once every couple of sessions, it was a guy besides our black Masters who was fucking me in the ass. I overheard a few things whispered that gave me the impression, followed by a dick that felt on the small side and/or came more quickly than the others. It did not seem that our Masters were whoring us out for cash, though. Rather, I got the sense that they were trading our asses for favors or influence.