The First White Wives Club Ch. 03

The First White Wives Club

Chapter Three: Wednesday's Are For Siobhan.

Author's Note: The first two chapters for this series appeared in the BDSM and Interracial Love categories. The reason for that is that this series straddles categories.

I'm not sure what I hate more. The taste, the stench, the texture...But whatever it is, I absolutely fucking hate it.

So I'm on my knees of course. Hands cuffed behind my back, arms cinched with a leather strap. A collar and pair of black stilettos are the only other things on me. It's not some dainty little bondage collar either. After a few weeks of wearing a genuine dog collar, I "graduated" to a big thick posture collar. It's incredibly bulky and restrictive. I can barely move my head in the thing. At least the butt-plug helps take my mind off it.

So I'm on my knees because I'm eating my Black Mistress out. Yes, I'm a slave, and I have to call my African-American "owner" Black Mistress. She likes having her cunt eaten out. I'm not sure if it's because she likes the orgasms, or because she knows how much I hate doing this. I made the big mistake in my second week of servitude of making my dislike for cunnilingus a little too obvious. That's all it took. Now eating Black Mistress out is my first task after getting myself ready and enduring my inspection in the morning. She knows I hate this. If she didn't know how degrading this makes me feel, she'd never make me eat out her cunt so much. Or maybe she would. Black Mistress does like her orgasms.

At least my hair looks good while I'm at work here. And boy, it should. Black Mistress demands I look how she wants me to look, so I'm a weekly regular at this muy expensive beauty salon she picked out for me. She hated my wavy long brown hair, so I'm now sporting a sleek and short jet-black job with purple highlights that looks like something from a Duran Duran album cover. My husband likes it. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Black Mistress takes her time with me down there. It's always at least an hour of licking duty. My face is absolutely soaked in her fluids afterwards. My tongue is so numb that I can barely feel it. She usually sees a client or two in her office afterwards (this psycho-bitch is a psychotherapist. Can you believe it?). I am lead to the kitchen by my leash, and put into a big dog cage. She used to make me crawl on my hands and knees like an animal. But after she got the posture collar and stilettos, she changed to leading me around on them with my hands and arms bound behind me. It's precarious. Keeping my balance in those stilettos with my arms bound behind me while she yanks on that leash is one hell of a challenge. I just know she'll let me fall, too.

The cage is locked, and I don't even get the courtesy of cleaning her fluids off my face. At least there's a water bowl just outside. I can just get my tongue through the cage to lap up some water. Most of the time I'm so worn out from all the licking on my knees, that I end up taking a nap. That's a mixed blessing, though. My dreams aren't so good these days.

It's four weeks into my new life of servitude to my Black Mistress, and I know how I was forced into this. She used her husband to seduce me. That big, black husband with the big black beautiful...Ok, it wasn't really all that big. Big enough, sure, but nothing like what you read in the stories...not that I've ever...oh, fuck it. He was a decent lay I guess. One-nighters were never my style. I need to know a lover to really get something out of it. I need the depth of a relationship. Or at least I thought I did. When did the fire go out between my husband and I? And was it my fault? The husband always claims that it's the wife's fault. Every time. But was it really me? I know I sure had some fire in the apartment above the garage with her husband that night. God, how did she get that video? Was she hanging off the window somehow? Nah, she must have used a ladder. Wonder what possessed her to do that?

Jesus. That's the kind of stuff that goes through my head while I'm trying to lick this bitch off to a quick orgasm. Well, that and shopping lists. You can get a lot done in your head when you've got so much time to kill on your knees and you've got the particulars of your Black Mistresses cunt down to a science. It's ironic that the depth of a relationship is such a key component of sex for me. I'm spending so much time with Black Mistress, that a relationship is developing between us. Sure, it's a toxic nuclear waste dump of straight-up dysfunctional abuse. But that's actually more of a relationship than I have with my husband most nights. Boy, is that sad.

It's a good thing I'm toned. I work out. A lot. It used to be everyday, but now I get a different workout on Wednesdays. I'm easily in the best shape of any woman on my block. There's certainly no comparison between me and those cows Megan, Maraliese, Nan, and Beth. My body is even better sculpted than Black Mistress, even though she takes really good care of herself too. That's probably another thing that works against me. This vicious bitch is jealous. I can tell by the way she yanks my leash.

The things this cruel woman makes me do are vile. I never know what kind of mood she'll be in after she's done with her clients. But I'm starting to figure out what kind of duties are dictated by her moods. If she's tired from working, she'll sit and watch some stupid daytime talk-show while I'm on the floor licking her feet. I've learned the hard way not to stop licking, either. If she's in a bad mood, then I am fucked. She'll strap me to a table or chair or her kitchen island, and whip me. She just straight up goes to town on my ass with any number of painful implements. Let's be frank. She beats me. And she enjoys it, so she really beats me hard. She spent the first day cycling through her husband's belts. She said that since I seemed to love his dick so much (I didn't love it that much), I should welcome this opportunity to feel his leather across my ass. Since then, I've experienced canes, wooden spoons, brushes and cat-o-nine tails. My poor ass could have lived without any of those experiences.

The biggest problem with the beatings is that they turn Black Mistress on all over again. Then it's right back to the couch for her, where I once again administer to her needs on my knees until she cums all over my face again.

It's really a shame that Nan up the block didn't end up in this position instead of me. The girls and I have always figured Nan for a closeted lesbian. We catch the way she looks at us. Well, me mainly. Let's face it, I'm the one with the body since I'm the one who puts the work into it. Maybe Nan's bisexual, but I wouldn't bet on it. I don't think that marriage of hers is much of a marriage at all. Certainly nothing like mine. Still, even if Nan liked the sex part of this hell, she wouldn't be down for the rest. Nan is one of those super-assertive control freaks. No way she would enjoy any of this slave shit.

Oh shit! My mind was wandering! I lost concentration. Maybe if I just carry on licking she won't...

YANK!

Black Mistress just yanked my leash with one hand and pulled my hair so that I'm looking up at her with the other hand. That glare. Shit, if looks could kill...

"You stupid fucking bitch, you let your mind wander when you were supposed to be working on your Black Mistress' snatch, didn't you?"

I'm fucked.

"No matter. We have time to correct this. We'll see how your concentration is after I beat the shit out of you in the kitchen with this new studded belt I got, just for you."

And with that, Black Mistress yanks me to me feet by my leash and leads me into her kitchen of hell.

God, I hate Wednesdays.

Black Mistress Journal Entry: Wow! Did I strike the motherload with Siobhan or what? She absolutely hates every second on her knees with her face in my crotch. She doesn't have a lesbian or submissive molecule in her body. And believe me, if she did, I would have teased it out by now. Siobhan is like my ultimate conquest. The more she hates what I put her through, the more it turns me on. And the thing that turns me on the most is that I've caught her so bad, that she doesn't see any way out of it. If she only knew that even pretending to like this a little might limit her time between my legs. God, how I love white suburban women. They're all MILF's in my book. Still, three isn't enough. I've got two more afternoons left to fill during the week. Let's see what we can drum up for Thursdays.

Next Chapter: Thursdays are Exclusively Nan's Providence.