Dominant Black Tales and Submissive Ch. 02

It had been two weeks since Bryan's adventure and he hadn't been able to keep his mind off the events of that memorable night. During meetings at work, he would drift off in fantasy to the words that Desire last said. "Know that tonight was child's play compared to what you will experience again" He had flashbacks. Was it possible that he did the unspeakable things his mind's eye recalled? Eating black pussy, sucking big, black cocks . . . real and unreal, begging to get fucked and craving humiliation and abuse. At times, he could pretend that it was all a dream, that it hadn't really happened at all, but the desperation he felt to experience it again, the emptiness he felt inside, the longing to submit to his divine Black queen and do whatever she demanded haunted his every thought and desire. In his mind, it played out like a movie. He could see himself in the action. He could see the way he swallowed Mistress Desire's Strapon like a slut. He could see Master Derrick's huge cock as it invaded the deepest part of his bowels and gave him indescribable and forbidden pleasure. He could see his transformation from mild mannered, unassuming white man to submissive white bitchboi slut, with an insatiable need to be used and humiliated by Blacks. His mediocre life almost had reason while he patiently waited for the next email or instant message from Mistress Desire to let him know where his next adventure into dark passion would take him.

One side effect the experience had on him was a boost to his libido. His previously boring and dull sex life with his wife had been resurrected. His love making become nothing less than inspired and she was never more satisfied in their entire eight-year marriage. His mind would fill of images from that night. His erection would become like steel and he would practically fight to keep from blurting out that he was submissive to Blacks to the blonde mother-of-two that lay beneath him. He was inspired by the intense desire to shock his card carrying, Junior League, PTA white bread wife with the revelation that he had eaten the hairy, black cunt of a sexy, Ebony mistress and he loved every second of it. He would pound away at his wife, making her moan for the first time in years, thinking of the look of horror she would have on her face knowing that he had begged like a dirty whore to get fucked savagely by a black stud. He would imagine that Desire would be whispering in his ear that his cock was pathetic and could never satisfy a woman the way Derrick's massive ebony weapon had satisfied his slutty pussy as he humped up and down on the unsuspecting woman white women that had ceased arousing him years ago. Fantasizing about hearing Desire's melodic voice in his mind, feeling her sensuous touch, and inspired by the beauty of her smooth chocolate skin, Bryan could resign himself to the life he was sentenced to live and make due with the cards he had been dealt.

Those fantasies came to a crashing halt the second he walked through the door one day after work. The envelope sat plainly on the kitchen table when he arrived home. It was so ornate, so elaborate, it was difficult to miss. He initially assumed it was for his wife but was compelled to inspect it. The hand calligraphy clearly spelled out his name and the expensive bronze envelope with sealing wax looked like it could have been an exclusive invitation to Prince William's coronation or something. Bryan held the envelope in his hand and panicked. He knew the origin of the envelope even without a return address. It wasn't postmarked so he had to assume it had been hand delivered. His wife surely put it there so there was no way he could conceal it from her. Perspiration formed under his arms and he began to hyperventilate. He could hear his wife moving about upstairs and he knew from routine that she would be done momentarily to greet him.

"Honey, I'll be back, I forgot my briefcase at the gym . . . I'll be . . . be right back," he yelled up the staircase as he clutched the envelope tightly.

"Wait, tell me what's in the envelope before you . . . leave," the last word barely audible over the slam of the carport door. He sat in his car motionless for a second. Maybe he would just drive away and never come back. No, he needed to get revenge on that bitch for trying to destroy his life. She would pay for this and pay dearly. He backed out of the driveway not sure if he would even have the nerve to return home. He had nothing but the clothes on his back.

Why had he been so thoughtless, so stupid? He jeopardized his marriage for a night of lust. At the time, it seemed so imperative to him to fulfill his fantasy. The thoughts of his submission to Black women had been growing for years. Everything about Black women seemed to reek of sensuality. He had long since stopped looking at porn sites with white women. Actually, his fascination began when he stroked his cock looking at videos of white women getting fucked by huge black cocks, usually in the ass, at the numerous black on blonde sites. At first, he just wanted to see if the myth was true. Assured that it was, he became mesmerized with black sexuality. Somehow, some way, he would get confused. Sometimes, he would imagine that the white whore on the screen was his wife. Scared by that thought, he somehow began to imagine himself as the white slut. He would see those white women on the screen, screaming and moaning and begging for more black cock as they were being gangbanged and he would wonder what it felt like to be the object of such intense sexual pleasure. His mind couldn't handle the confusion he experienced so he went searching the World Wide Web for images of Black women. He found true love.

Black women were his obsession. Their skin, their asses, their pure, unbridled passion seemed to be the epitome of sexuality. At first, any Ebony site would do but he quickly learned that most adult sites with Black women were low quality and showed Black women in the worse possible way. He was only interested in sites that portrayed Black women as the goddesses he knew them to be. AfroerotiK was his absolute favorite; he could look on with awe and inspiration at the gorgeous images of Black sexuality. He then began using various chat rooms and online communities to find Black women with whom he could converse. He was interested in Black women that were at least of his educational level and not just trying to get paid for fucking. He was willing to pay, he felt it was his obligation to lavish a Black woman with gifts but wanted to do it as a tribute, not as an exchange of goods and services. Bottom line, he didn't want a hooker, he wanted a mistress.

That's how he found Mistress Desire. She was a member of a yahoo group called love_ebony_women. He sent her an instant message and she returned his message with pleasant conversation. Not only was she his intellectual equal, she was his superior. She was a biologist specializing in stem cell research and most of her job description went over his head. For weeks they had developed a rapport and she had initiated him into a world of dominance and submission from which he could not return. She was masterful in her control of him and he found himself doing things he hadn't ever contemplated before. She never raised her voice; she never made outrageous and unreasonable demands on him. She would get inside his head, anticipate his every thought and desire, and push him to maniacal heights of arousal. He craved her humiliation most of all. He would get a perverse thrill knowing that she looked down on him with disgust and contempt.

His cell phone rang and it jolted him out of his memories. The caller ID said it was his wife and he let the call go to voicemail. He glanced at the envelope sitting on the front seat. It looked like it had an aura of its own. "What the hell am I so afraid of? What if it's not even from her? This is crazy. I'm not afraid of her. I'm not going to let her control my life. Whatever is in there I can handle it," he thought.

He drove out of conditioning to his job. It was still relatively early in the evening so a few people were still lingering about, finishing up projects and waiting for the evening traffic to dissipate before they made their journey to the outer burbs. He moved through the office in a fog, the envelope held firmly in his grasp. He closed the door to his office and loosened his tie. He felt lightheaded. He broke the seal of the envelope and the gilt tissue paper floated gracefully to the floor. He unfolded the envelope to find a hand written note.

"Bryan, I do so hope you have a wonderful evening when we met. I warned you that if you wanted to play again, the stakes would be higher. What say you, Bryan? Interested in seeing how far you will be willing to go to get your pathetic little prick off again Bryan?"

Bryan blinked hard. With all that was at stake, with all that he stood to lose, he found himself getting erect. He could hear the sweet timber of her voice and he knew all to well that she knew how to push his buttons.

He continued to read. "You belong to me completely, Bryan, that means that anything that you have belongs to me as well. I want your wife Bryan. I want to see your wife getting fucked like a slut by Derrick's beautiful black cock. I want to see the look on her face as you kiss my feet, lick my pussy, as you drink my piss and tell me that you love me and you'll do anything to please me. I want her to watch in horror as she sees her dutiful husband slobber and drool over Derrick's black cock and beg to get fucked like a useless faggot. Chez Henri -- Friday night -- Be there at 8:00, bring your wife, and we'll be waiting for you."

Bryan's mouth was dry. More than that, his cock was hard. He went to lock the door of his office and he fell wearily against the frame as he freed his raging hard cock and stroked it, thinking of the things Desire had described. He pushed his pants to his knees and spread his thighs as much as his khakis would allow. He placed his finger in his mouth and sucked it, imagining a more delectable treat. Sufficiently lubricated, he reached past his balls to his asshole and pushed it in. Ever since Derrick had fucked him in the ass, his asshole had become desperate to be fucked. Sometimes, it itched and throbbed in need of a big, black invader. He shot a load all over the carpet as he fantasized about his wife being a slut for black cock, and how Mistress Desire had manipulated him so completely.

Invigorated, Bryan regained his composure and he began concocting lies and explanations to tell his wife. He checked his voicemail to get a measure of his wife's demeanor. All seemed well. She was curious but she didn't seem to suspect anything at all. He felt a tinge of guilt for the betrayal he was displaying but his lust and fantasies, and the fear that if he didn't comply with Desire's wishes she might actually do something malicious to him, his marriage or his job kept him focused.

He ran to his computer and used Publisher to create an elaborate looking document that looked like a gift certificate, complete with a fake authorization code and a line for a fake signature. He called Chez Henri for reservations on Friday night and they were booked solid. He asked the maitre d if there were reservations for a Desiree' Jenkins and he confirmed that she had reservations for two at 8:00. He called the corporate concierge for his firm and promised him a hundred bucks if he could get him reservations at the exclusive, five star restaurant on Friday evening. He got a confirmation after only a minute of being on hold. He held his breath as he dialed the number for his wife.

"You won't believe this," he blurted out before giving her a chance to ask any questions," I entered this drawing at work about a month ago and I won . . . we won a dinner for two at Chez Henri on Friday night. Isn't that fabulous?"

She started to ask all sorts of questions about the strange demeanor of the man who had delivered the envelope and why he had run out so quickly be he easily distracted her by telling her that she should go to Nordstrom's and buy something extra sexy and that he even thought that she should take the day off an make an appointment for Spa Moulin on Friday afternoon as well. "Make a day of it baby, I want this to be a special night for both of us. We deserve to let our hair down."

When he hung up, reality hit him squarely in the chest. What on earth was he thinking? How could he subject himself to such a dangerous plan? As much as he fantasized about having a wife that was a slut for Black cock and submitting himself to the machinations of an Ebony Domme, this was too much. He formed a plan that would simply beat Desire at her own game. He was going to show her that he was no pawn to be played with.

He avoided Rebecca the majority of the day on Friday, opting to get his hair cut, go work out at the gym and go buy some Clinique toiletries so that he would feel his most attractive for his . . . masters, no longer able to say mistress solely. His passion was rising and his slutty nature was coming out. He wanted Desire and Derrick to take him places that he had never even dreamt of going. The fact that his wife might be there to watch didn't register in his consciousness. For so many years she wasn't even a part of his sexual fantasies that he was able to disassociate her from his desires. Yeah, he would fantasize occasionally about a white slut wife that would keep him cuckold and submissive to Blacks, but he never thought that it would be the conservative, practically frigid woman that he had only recently begun to enjoy sex with, no thanks to her. In his fantasies it was some other white woman, not the mother of his children.

Rebecca was like a school girl on Friday, giggling and talkative all day long. She was invigorated by the concept of romance in their otherwise loveless marriage. She got a Brazilian wax at the spa, removing every trace of hair on her pussy and leaving her baby smooth. She had decided to go for a sultrier look than usual, empowered by the intense sex she and Bryan had been having as of late. She made an appointment at the hairdresser, had highlights put in her hair and got the full makeover at the cosmetic counter at Mac. Bryan, already aroused at what he knew was potentially going to happen, practically threw her on the bed when he saw the low-cut, clingy red dress that Rebecca wore, the strappy high heels and the knockout woman that stood before him.

"Your table is ready sir," the host said as they made their way through the labyrinth of tables with Waterford crystal sparkling in the candlelight. Bryan nervously glanced around, practically sick he had allowed his fantasies to control his better judgment yet again. The waiter introduced himself and described specials but he was completely distracted. He saw Desire from across the room, watching their every move, and something deep within him told him that he shouldn't make the first move. She was torturing him and she loved every second of it. At times, she would laugh and draw attention to herself, highlighting the fact that she and Derrick were the only people of color in the entire place. It was an act of confidence rather than uncouth, proving that she was undaunted by the historical implications that suggested that she didn't even belong there, let alone command such confidence and ease.

Dinner was seamless, save the raging hard-on Bryan sported all night, and the sorbet course was about to be served. He thought that perhaps that this was to be his only test, to see if he could follow orders. His true desires betrayed him as he felt slightly disappointed that the evening would transpire without the things the Desire had described in her note. The waiter approached and discreetly said, "Ms Jenkins would like it very much if you and your wife would join her and her companion for an aperitif."

Her back towards the couple all evening, Rebecca turned in her seat to glance towards Desire and Derrick. "Bryan, who is she? Do you know her?" She seemed to immediately get uncomfortable.

Bryan swallowed hard. "Hmmmmmmm, Oh, yes. I think I do. She is the head of the lab at that research facility where my company updated their network interface a few months back . . . I think," trying to sound unsure of himself and proud that he was capable of thinking on his feet so well.

"I'm not so sure about that, Bryan. Maybe we should decline the offer." Rebecca seemed nervous and figidity.

"Nonsense, what could it hurt," Bryan said, as he wondered inwardly why he hadn't taken the opportunity to take his wife up on her offer? Adrenaline was pumping in his veins.

Desire stood to greet him with an air of familiarity. She leaned in close and tilted her head back for Bryan to kiss her neck. Bryan laid a tentative and juvenile kiss on her neck and Rebecca turned a deeper shade of red as she witnessed the act of intimacy right before her eyes.

Derrick stood to greet her. "Rebecca, you look particularly lovely this evening." He kissed her on the mouth and ran his dark hands down her back and rested them on her ass. This time, it was Bryan's turn to show his displeasure. It was a kiss of lovers.

Desire interrupted the embrace and introduced herself. "We've not met, I'm Desiree' Jenkins. You must be Rebecca. Derrick has told me so much about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet the woman behind all those steamy stories." With that, she leaned in close and gave Rebecca a sensuous kiss that was more appropriate for a porn movie than a high-class establishment like Chez Henri.

"What the fuck is . . .," Bryan blurted out, drawing more attention that the silent kiss had done.

"Bryan, sit! And for God's sake don't make such a scene." Desires' words caused more arousal than calm; the irony of her comments was not lost on the interracial foursome. He was hypnotized by her command and presence.

They all sat as Rebecca and Bryan were shame faced and solemn. Desire broke the ice. "Shall we drop the pretenses everyone? Bryan, while you've been my cyber slut online for all these weeks, your wife has been entertaining a virtual lover as well."

Rebecca looked nauseous as Desire continued with her tale. "You see, Becky here doesn't know the identity of her cyber lover, she's only seen him from the waist down on web cam. But she does know Derrick here. They met when he was kind enough to hand deliver the note I sent you earlier this week. Derrick and your cyber lover are one and the same, Becky. I'm afraid we played a bit of a trick on you sweetie by not revealing Derrick's identity to you when you met the other day but you didn't seem to care. You were so hot for Black cock that you were practically throwing yourself at him." Desire continued with her story causing Bryan rage and outrage at the betrayal from both women. "I guess her lust for black men had been fueled by her cyber lover so much that when Derrick showed up at the door, she invited him in, offered him some Iced Red tea and was practically drooling all over him. The kids were in the back yard playing the whole time if I heard the story correctly. Bent right over the kitchen sink and took all 10 inches without missing a beat."

Bryan's heart sank. He knew the story was true. His wife had been on this whole "antioxidant kick" recently and was addicted to a new kind of South African red rooibos tea. Rebecca grabbed her purse and Bryan's arm and stood to leave.

"Sit down bitch!" Desire's words sounded so sweet and sexy they effectively controlled the blonde housewife with ease. Bryan's face was burning with anger. Damn his cock for being hard at a time like this. He grabbed Rebecca's arm forcefully enough to leave marks. "Is what she's saying true?"

Rebecca pried his fingers from her arm. With tears in her eyes, she choked out, "I guess it is, apparently you know her very well. I wasn't the only one cheating online."