The First White Wives Club Ch. 02

The First White Wives Club

Chapter Two: If It's Tuesday, This Must Be Maraliese.

I am three weeks into my new life of servitude to my Black Mistress. I'm not going to lie to you, it's been hard. She caught me on video having sex with her husband, and used it as leverage to enslave me. Literally. I know, it's insane, right? This is why I should never drink. A few martini's at a block party, and next thing I know I'm on my knees in a bathroom taking as much of that African-American penis as I can swallow. I'm not sure if the myths about size are really accurate, but it sure was a novelty compared to my husband's. I grew so tired of that penis at least a decade ago.

I suppose I could go to the police, but they're idiots. Maybe not all of them, but my sister-in-law's brother is a plainclothes detective, and my God, is he stupid. After seeing how hopeless he is just sending a text, I realize the sheer inevitability of that video getting leaked by the police. Even if my husband didn't dump me, my marriage would never be the same. He'd forever have the upper hand. I can't have that. Online would be even worse. I'd be humiliated in my whole community. Nope, no police. Got to tough this one out. Honestly, how bad can it be?

I hate to admit it, but I looked better in that video than I expected. The black dye really works for the very, very short hairstyle I've been sporting for the last year. My husband makes no secret of the fact that he misses my curls. He reminds me of this in public whenever anyone compliments me on my new hairstyle. But the fact is, the curls were making me look fat. It doesn't matter how much one watches her diet and exercises as one advances in years. The weight accrues, whether one likes it or not. Luckily, I do exercise and watch my diet. I'm pleasantly curvy, as Black Mistress remarked, and not fat. Why is it that it takes an insane dominatrix to recognize and appreciate how my hairstyle works with my body now? She may be psychotic, but at least she isn't an idiot like my husband.

That first week was rough! I was told that I needed to be "brought up to speed" by my Black Mistress. That's right, I have to call her Black Mistress. I screw that up, and I get punished. And let me tell you, Black Mistress is a sadistic piece of shit. She loves to slap me around and whip me. She basically beat the living shit out of my butt during that first week. Any excuse at all, the slightest transgression, and that African-American bitch grabs my hair, slaps my face, and trusses me up for a "punishment." Punishment consists of taking her riding crop or a studded heavy metal belt across my butt while I'm bound, gagged, blindfolded, what have you. It varies every time. The only constant is the pain and humiliation. She said my screaming gets her off. It's getting better, though. I'm learning very quickly to follow her commands instantly, and to follow the command behind the command. I'm figuring out what she wants. And I know damn well not to ever hesitate when she barks. That means an instant slap to the face. Black Mistress didn't hide her disappointment well today when I obeyed everything to the letter of her law. She wanted to whip me so bad, but she won't do it unless I give her a reason to. Just have to ride this out and not fuck up when I'm naked and on duty.

Honestly, you'd think I was too old for this shit. I'm 49, for Christ's sake. Maybe this is what I get for having four kids between the ages of 29 and 39. I kissed any possibility of a career off to play Susie Homemaker, and I guess I kissed off the fun of marriage somewhere between kid number two or three. Not that I'm having much fun now. But still, the orgasms...my God, the orgasms Black Mistress gives me are amazing. I've never experienced anything like them. Maybe there is something to this whole woman-on-woman lesbo crap that I should have paid attention to a long time ago.

Still, that first week was murder. After arriving at 8:45am Tuesday through Friday (we skipped Monday for some reason), I was ordered to strip, neatly put my clothes into a storage tray, don my collar and leash, and wait on my hands and knees for Black Mistress. Then my training would begin. I was taught to crawl, heel, and kneel by the way she pulled the leash. When her feet are placed in front of my face, I lick them until she is satisfied. On Thursday I spent an entire hour licking them while she watched The View. I'm not sure what was worse, the licking or the show. Her feet are clean enough I suppose, but it's still so disgusting to lick feet. I'll never get used to that. I shouldn't dwell on that actually. I've since licked worse.

We capped Friday off with our first ass-fuck. It wasn't my first ass-fuck (maybe my fifth, never was fond of anal), but it was certainly my first ass-fuck from a power-mad African-American bitch. I'm ashamed to say that I came. Who knew that was possible? Not only did she fuck the living shit out of my ass with a strap-on, but she also made me lick it clean afterwards. Now that really was disgusting. Black Mistress said that she was sure I'd be getting up a little earlier to clean myself with an enema from then on. She sure called that one. I made a beeline for CVS as soon as I got out of there. Oh, and I have to call it an ass-fuck now. Anal sex is for the modern sophisticated woman who encourages (i.e. directs) their husband to slide it up there gently. I'm a slave. I get ass-fucked. And if I don't act like I like it I'll get whipped.

I'm not sure what was worse, the ass-fucking or the oral sex. That's right, I have to "lick her pussy" everyday, for quite a while too. She loves it, and she really cums while she's pulling my hair, yanking my leash, and shoving my face this way and that. She loves to bark commands while she does it too. When she really starts to cum, she calls me the most vile things possible. I confess, I'm not that into vagina. The taste, the smell (which isn't that bad, but still), the uncomfortable position, the aching stiffness of my whole mouth, neck and jaw afterwards...it's not really my thing. I guess I would have made a bad lesbian. Still, I'm wondering what it would feel like to have a woman go down on mine now. That's a new thing. Never wondered about that before. Bet a woman would have more intuition about where to go down there than my boring husband.

My official name is White Submissive Bitch. That's right, this respectable 49-yr-old mother and domestic goddess of her household answers to the name of White Submissive Bitch every Tuesday from 8:45am to 2:20pm. Thank God it's only one day a week now. I'm not sure why Tuesday has to be the day. It's not like Black Mistress takes any time off from her work. I asked if I could switch out a Tuesday for a Monday next month, since I had a luncheon date with an old friend coming up. Black Mistress didn't have to say anything. She bent me over while standing up, locked my wrist cuffs to my ankle cuffs, stuffed a dirty pair of her panties in my mouth, and went to town on my butt with a metal spatula. Hey, at least she held me by the hair to keep me from falling over. Since I had to clean the spatula afterwards, she had me do all her dishes from the night before too. First thing I did when I got home was cancel that luncheon. Then I filled the tub with ice cubes and sat my butt down in them.

I always spend a few hours in the cage while she conducts sessions with her clients in her home office. It's too damn small. I have to scrunch my legs up just to fit inside. I wish I could fall asleep in there, to make the hours of uncomfortable boredom go by faster. But no such luck. I've tried closing my eyes, but I end up just re-living whatever lesbo hell I've been forced to endure that morning. There's a full water bowl for drinking. Black Mistress insists it be only half full when she lets me out, to keep me hydrated. I dutifully dip my face down and lap up half the water exactly. I know what will happen if I don't. I have to hold my pee too, unless I want to piss all over the dog cushion I'm laying on. I'm sure it would turn Black Mistress on to find me lying in my own urine. But she would still beat me from here to kingdom come if I did so. Bet she wouldn't clean out or change the cushion either. Imagine having to lie on a urine-soaked cushion every day, just because I couldn't hold my pee. Actually, Black Mistress says we're going to do a lot of work with pee soon. I do my best not to think about it.

Black Mistress had a client cancel this week. It was in the middle of her workday. So she hauled me out of the cage to service her vagina for the 30-minute window between clients. Oh joy. She didn't even change clothes. Instead of that usual corset, she was dressed in her professional dress. She lifted up her dress so that I could lower her panties off and get to work down on my knees. Lucky for me I got her off in time. It's not too difficult really. I know how vaginas work, and I've certainly had more than enough practice with hers in the last three weeks. She gets off on humiliation and degradation the most (mine specifically). So if I want to get her off fast, I need to give her the opportunity to humiliate me beforehand. I'm still trying to work out if the break from her crotch is worth the price. Black Mistress was so pleased with my performance, that she gave me a reward. She let me pee into a bowl. That's right, I squatted over a plasticine bowl on her kitchen floor and relieved myself of all the pee that had been building up. Then it was right back in the cage.

Black Mistress Journal Entry: Monday's and Tuesday's are coming along just fine, as I knew they would. I can sniff these submissive white bitches out from a mile away. They waste away their whole lives in denial, unless they're lucky enough to be taken under my whip. From there, it's all about training. I've discussed this with a few dom/domme's in the past. A popular opinion seems to have coalesced around the concept of individual training: tailoring the training regimen to the personality of the sub/slave. I call bullshit on that. Slaves are there to serve my needs, not the other way around. You can't build a solid slave stable unless they are all trained identically. I need a Wednesday now. Time to aim the husband in that direction.

Next Chapter: Wednesday's Are For Siobhan