les histoires de chrislebo

Part 4 -- The moth driven to the flame.

My hard dick was already in hand when my instant messenger beeped. I clicked on it. The message was from RagingBull68 -- Ron's screen name.

RagingBull68: Thinking dirty thoughts?

Me: Well I'm online aren't I? LOL Reading one of yours.

RagingBull68: Good choice. Cock in hand?

Me: You know it.

RagingBull68: Shall I let you get back to it?

Me: No. I got all night. In the dog house.

RagingBull68: What now?

Me: Slip of the tongue during sex.

RagingBull68: ....Did you tell her?

Me: No. But accidentally said something along the lines.

RagingBull68: She ***** again?

Me: No. Unfortunately. But she suggested the dirty talk again.

RagingBull68: Suggested it sober? She's coming around. Now is the time.

Me: Time for...?

RagingBull68: Stop torturing yourself. Tell her. The truth will set you free.

Me: Just a fantasy. Not going to happen. She'd flip.

RagingBull68: Fantasy is only a prelude to reality my friend. You can have it.

Me: Don't want it.

RagingBull68: No? I disagree. I know better.

Me: LOL. Maybe.

RagingBull68: Not maybe. You need it. Your slut wife needs it too. DD wants to be a whore. And you want her pussy used.

My cock jumped as I read his words. I loved it when he talked that way. It was far more erotic to hear someone talking about my wife directly than trying to mentally insert her name into a fictional story, especially someone who knew so much about her and I.

RagingBull68: There?

Me: Yeah, sorry.

RagingBull68: Got excited, didn't you.

Me: What can I say? LOL

RagingBull68: See...told you...you deny yourself...you deny her.

Me: It's not so simple.

RagingBull68: But it is. Your fear gets in the way. Bliss awaits both of you.

Me: Or divorce.

RagingBull68: That won't happen. Love is love. Sex is sex.

Me: For me. Not for her.

RagingBull68: Not so. You are fooled by her fear...when she's sober. But when she's been to the bar she loves sex, yes? A ***** mouth speaks for a sober heart -- your words.

Me: Seems that way.

RagingBull68: She can't get enough. You told me.

Me: True.

RagingBull68: And you don't give her enough. You can't satisfy her when she's in that state.

Me: She's insatiable.

RagingBull68: Like I said. You don't satisfy her.

I felt a lump in my throat. When he put it like that, I felt my insecurities flaring up.

Me: I probably don't go long enough.

RagingBull68: We've been through this. You don't satisfy her. You told me that. You know it. Don't lie to yourself it's not healthy my friend.

Me: I guess.

RagingBull68: You guess? We're always honest with each other. You're denying your own words now?

Me: No.

RagingBull68: Then just say it. Say what you said before. Sober she lays there like a lump of coal. *********** she gives you more than you can handle. You can't satisfy your wife. Say it.

Me: I can't satisfy my wife.

I got a chill as I typed those words. Ron had a way of ******* reality to slap me in the face.

RagingBull68: But someone else can. You know it. And she knows it too. So what do you think will happen?

Me: I don't know.

RagingBull68: She was a cheating whore when you met her. What will stop her this time?

Me: Love, I hope.

RagingBull68: That's not what you hope. You hope she will offer her whore pussy to another man to get what you can't give her. That's what you hope.

Me: I don't want to lose her.

My heart was beating frantically, and my cock was stiffening.

RagingBull68: Things have been good lately, yes?

Me: Yes. For the most part.

RagingBull68: Then now is the time. Go with her on the journey before she goes it alone. You'll both be happier.

I couldn't respond. It sounded crazy and it made sense at the same time. My conflicted emotions kept me frozen.

RagingBull68: You're hard right now thinking about that little Asian slut of yours getting it good from a strange cock.

Reflexively, I answered: Yes.

RagingBull68: Care to play a little?

Me: Ok.

RagingBull68: What did she wear today?

Me: Red pant suit, white blouse underneath. Nothing special. Work clothes.

RagingBull68: And her underwear?

Me: Black bra, and boy shorts, I think. It was dark in the room as usual.

RagingBull68: They were purple. I know because I saw them today when I fucked her.

Me: oh

It was all I could think to say. When Ron and I played this game he did most of the typing. I'd be busy jerking off.

RagingBull68: The bitch was walking through the mall blabbing on her cell phone. She was talking to someone about how pathetic you were in bed. She was talking very loud and everyone could hear her. I wonder if it was anyone you know?

RagingBull68: I followed her into a store, Bebe I think. Wait, let me look at the receipt...yep Bebe. She was searching for a new outfit. She told the person on the phone she needed to buy something sexy to attract someone who could fuck her better.

RagingBull68: I knew that slut was ripe for a good fuck so I made sure I brushed up against her tight little ass with my big hard dick in my jeans as I passed her in the store. It wasn't quick either. She got a good feel for what I had to offer.

RagingBull68: She couldn't stop smiling at me. A hot little piece of ass, that wife of yours. I knew she'd make a good pin cushion for my cock. So while she was picking through things on the rack, I pressed up behind her again.

RagingBull68: Only this time I didn't move. I put my hands on her hips, pressed my bulge against her ass, and rubbed against her for quite a while. She didn't stop me. She started breathing harder. I told her to hang up the phone. She did.

RagingBull68: I told her that if she wanted to be sexy she should wear something that showed her body off more. I grabbed the skimpiest little red dress on the rack. I think she got excited just looking at it. But she frowned at the $200 price tag.

RagingBull68: I told her I'd buy it for her if she put it on for me. She got excited about that. Money has been a little tight lately, yes?

Me: It has.

RagingBull68: I know. She bitched as much about your inability to provide a better lifestyle for her as she did about your sorry excuse for a sex life. But more so than that, your wife really just wanted the chance to get naked for me.

RagingBull68: She wasn't as shy with me as she is with you. Maybe because she knew I saw her as nothing more than place to dump my sperm. She didn't have to pretend otherwise, or worry about what I'd think of her. She already knew what I thought of her.

RagingBull68: I took her into a dressing room and told her to strip. The fucking whore couldn't even hide her excitement. She peeled off that pantsuit in no time while I sat there and watched. I even made her dance for me a little in her underwear.

RagingBull68: Then I told her to take that off too. She needed it explained to her that a slut like her has no reason to be wearing underwear. The bitch hesitated a little too long to do it so I gave her ass a good hard spanking. That got her pussy wetter than before.

RagingBull68: She was dripping, my friend. Juice was running down her thigh. The whole dressing room smelled like her hairy cunt when she took her panties off. It was fun watching her trying to squeeze into that dress, too.

RagingBull68: Your wife wears a size 7, or a medium at Bebe. The dress I picked for her was an extra small. She started to get whiny about how it was too small, but I told her to shut the fuck up and put it on or I'd drag her out of the fitting room naked.

RagingBull68: I think she liked that idea because she just stood there staring at the dress like she couldn't figure out how to put it on. So I opened the door to the fitting room and pushed her out. There were two guys sitting out there waiting for their wives.

RagingBull68: She got a little antsy then when they started staring at her naked body. But I told to her stay put so she didn't try to run back into the dressing room. Your wife's a good little submissive slut, she does what she's told.

RagingBull68: I made her apologize and promise to put the dress on before I let her back in. Took her a while to get it on. She had a little too much ass and hip to pull it all the way down so it left the bottom half of her ass sticking out.

RagingBull68: From where I was sitting I could see cunt hair underneath the hem. Her tits didn't fit much better. Those are some beauties. The dress didn't cover any more than her little nipples. I made her go out and ask those two guys what they thought of it.

RagingBull68: They couldn't tell her enough how much they enjoyed seeing her in that dress. I told them for $20 I'd let them fuck her. They didn't know exactly what to say. They looked at her like she was going to object, but she didn't.

RagingBull68: I pulled up her dress and smacked her on the ass to show them who was in control. I offered again but they just rambled some crap about their wives being there. Oh well. I took her back in the dressing room, pushed her up against the mirror and...

I was stroking my dick voraciously, hanging on every word when he'd stopped. I waited for him to continue but he didn't.

Me: And? What!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!!

RagingBull68: You sure you want to hear the rest of this?

Me: Yes!

RagingBull68: Say please.

Me: Pleeeeeeeease!

RagingBull68: How about I tell you in person?

Me: Are you joking?

RagingBull68: Not at all. We've been chatting now for what, 7 or 8 months? Why not meet? I'm not too far from you. You're in Oak Brook. I'm in Schaumburg.

I paused a moment contemplating his request. It never occurred to me that he might live in the same state as me, let alone a nearby city. I'd never asked. For that reason, the thought of meeting him never seemed like a possibility. I thought it might be nice to have a real life friend with a similar interest. My fantasy world was a lonely one, save for him.

RagingBull68: I haven't got all night.

Me: Where? When?

RagingBull68: Staybridge suites, Schaumburg. Leave now.

Me: Now? It's kinda late. Tomorrow maybe?

RagingBull68: Now or never. Also, bring a pair of your wife's worn panties. Let's have some fun.

"Let me get this straight. I'm supposed to drive to a hotel in Schaumburg to meet a guy I met on an Internet porn site and deliver a pair of my wife's dirty underwear?" I spoke out loud to no one. "And why now or never?"

Me: You gotta admit, this sounds a little weird.

RagingBull68: It's your fantasy. I'm only here to help. It will be like your first time willingly sharing your wife's cunt. Think about it. I also have some things I want to show you. You'll enjoy. TRUST ME.

Me: What is it?

RagingBull68: Only one way to find out. Room 217. Don't keep me waiting.

After that he signed off.

I had a deep curiosity about what it was he had to show me. My cock was still hard. And Ron never failed to deliver with his ideas and stories; his mind was as filthy as mine. Plus, I liked the guy.

And the thing about bringing my wife's used panties also peeked my interest. I guessed he wanted to see what her pussy smelled like. Awfully damn kinky in my book, but the thought excited me. It would be as close as any other man had ever gotten to DD's pussy during our marriage.

But still, it was a weird situation. I was trying to let common sense prevail over my sexually driven euphoria. But that was something that almost never happened.

Part 5 – The Partnership

This is part 5 of the series. Part 4 was contained in chapter 2. Parts 1-3 was contained in chapter 1.

I was shaking outside of room 217. I'd been standing there for almost five minutes and still hadn't knocked. It wasn't too late to turn around.

But who was I kidding? I'd come this far because my obsession ruled me. I had no power over it but for the palm of my own hand. I could have rubbed one out on my own and gotten enough mental clarity to avoid being here. But that was only delaying the inevitable. Bearing the burden of my all-consuming fantasy alone was wearing me down. I needed to share it.

I knocked.

A tall, fortyish man with slightly graying black hair opened the door, a towel wrapped around his waist. I thought he somewhat favored Richard Gere.

"I was wondering how long you were going to stand out there before you knocked," Ron spoke with a slight southern accent, standing aside as he held the door.

"Put yourself in my shoes," I said, cautiously stepping into the room.

"Oh, I understand you very well. That's why I let you stand out there and go through your process. I'm a patient man when I choose to be."

The room was small and had a peculiar smell to it. The queen-sized bed looked slept in. The floral print comforter was in a heap on the floor. A half empty bottle of Cognac sat atop the dresser. The room was tidy aside from that. Not a total dive, but nothing special.

"Excuse the condition of the room. I had a small party in here earlier and I've only just started cleaning up from it," He said, strolling in to the tiny bathroom and dispensing some deodorant under his arms.

"A party, huh?" I stood near the entrance of the room.

"A couple of friends of mine, and another man's wife," He said, plainly looking at me in the mirror.

"I see," I nodded. "Ohhhhh," I belatedly realized what he meant.

"Redhead, late twenties, nice tits. Fucked her in every orifice with her husband on speaker phone," Ron stated matter-of-factly, grinning.

"Sounds like fun," I answered, fidgeting with my hands, aimlessly looking around the room.

"You knew that about me, I presume," He asked, coming out of the bathroom and walking to the dresser.

"That you had a party?"

"That I fuck other men's wives for sport."

"You're a bull?"

"That term annoys me, but use it if you like," Ron poured some Cognac into two plastic cups.

"Actually, I didn't. I mean, I wasn't sure. In your stories you always write from the cuckold's perspective. But then when we started chatting you always did seem kind of...I don't know...aggressive?"

"I like writing as if the shoe were on the other foot. I find the dynamics of the submissive mind, fascinating. I'm particularly intrigued by those of you who have such a self-deluded image that you lack self-value to the point of actually favoring minimal sexual gratification, pain even, emotional and physical. I try, and if I do say so myself, succeed very well in conveying that type of psycho-sexual dysfunction in my stories because I've gained what I think is a very unique perspective on the situation."

I scratched my head trying to figure out if he had just insulted me or not. Trying not to sound ignorant, I addressed the part that I did understand. "I wouldn't necessarily say I'm a submissive."

Ron chuckled. "I would," he said, handing me a cup of Cognac. "Here, this will loosen you up a bit."

"Got me all figured out, huh?"

"I'd say so," He said, arrogantly. "I've encountered all types in this lifestyle. Some men are just victims of cold, selfish, calculating women and don't have the backbone to stand up for themselves. Others simply devalue their women so greatly that they long to see them used and humiliated, but also lack the backbone to do it themselves, detaching themselves from the act by putting it in another mans hands so they can hold on to their delusions of being a loving husband."

*****, what are you, the professor of cuckolding or something?" I wondered if he could sense the complex he was giving me. "So which one do you think I am?"

"Neither," he smiled. "Which is why I'm particularly interested in you. You convey the type of emotion and feelings that usually have to be absent to practice cuckoldry. I believe you actually do love and value your wife. And DD doesn't seem to be the manipulative type either, even though she is a whore."

Hearing him call my wife a whore sent a chill down my spine and rush of ***** to my dick. Somehow the effect was greater hearing it said out loud than seeing him type it on a screen. I quickly slammed the half-full cup Cognac.

"See what I mean," he cackled. "You get uncomfortable at the suggestion of your wife being anything but an angel, yet it excites you so much. I love it."

"So what am I, some sort of science project to you?"

"A lab rat of sorts," Ron laughed.

My expression got dark.

"I'm kidding! Lighten up!" He said, pouring me another cup of Cognac. "Sit down and relax for crying out loud! Get comfortable! I know it's not the Hilton, but you're in good company."

"The room is fine," I shrugged, sitting at the edge of the bed, "I just get a little awkward meeting new people."

"The room is a dive. But it's the kind of room you use to fuck a cheap whore, know what I mean? It's the kind of room I'd fuck your slut, Asian wife in."

As I instantly converted his words into a mental picture, my cock stiffened. "I suppose," I replied meekly.

Part of me felt obligated to sock him in the mouth for that remark. I had to remember the context in which we'd met. Spoken words verses written words. This was far more real now, and I was still adjusting.

Besides that, Ron was an imposing physical figure. I wasn't so sure I could take him anyway. As he handed me another cup of Cognac, I noticed his U.S.M.C. tattoo on his arm in old English letters.

"So like I was saying," Ron sat beside me on the bed. "I've taken quite an interest in you and your wife, as you know."

"Because I'm supposedly different than the other husbands you've dealt with?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. For one I think it would be fascinating to see how you react to the realization of your fantasy. And for another, I have to tell you, I really loathe most of the men whom I've cuckolded. A lot of their wives too. It was easy for me to use and humiliate them because of that. I'm sure you can imagine, the lack of respect I had for their marriages made me excellent at it. They were role-playing. I wasn't." Ron's gaze drifted towards the window as he took a long swig of the ******.

"What are you saying, Ron? You want to..."

"To make you the cuckold you've always wanted to be," he finished my sentence. "It'll be a challenge for me, because honestly, I actually like you." He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "But in spite of that, I fully intend to use your wife like I have every other whore I've encountered, and I will treat you the same as I've treated their husbands. I won't deny you the full experience, I promise."

"Um...look, that's flattering, I guess. But like I've been telling you, I don't think I could actually go through with it," I said, finishing another glass of Cognac.

"Well, that's the beauty of this lifestyle, you don't necessarily have to go through with anything. You simply remain passive, if not submissive, and let it happen like all sissy husbands do. Let me take control," Ron looked me directly in the eyes.

Did he just imply that I was a sissy? I wondered. "Ron, I don't know. I'm playing with fire here," I shook my head.

"That's part of the thrill," he smiled. "And the way I see it, it's inevitable that it will happen. You're fighting a losing battle with your demons. And your wife craves a real man to fuck her. Wouldn't you rather put it in the hands of someone who won't completely try to destroy your marriage? Believe me, if she's allowed to stray with a man who doesn't understand this lifestyle he will ultimately seek to posses your woman. I merely want to use her."

I stood up, went to the dresser, poured some more Cognac and promptly downed it. "You make it sound like I'm going to lose her if I don't do this."

"You have to admit, it's a real possibility, all things considered. You have no idea."

I sighed deeply, and faintly nodded as I fell back onto the bed. "But what makes you so sure that this will be the solution? What makes you think she'd even be a part of anything like this? As much as I fantasize about her cheating, it would **** me.

"I'd have to be involved, you know? I have to be a willing participant, and she has to know that I am. None of that hiding in closets bull**** and letting her think I don't know. And I don't see how I could get myself to explain to her, how I could be ok with that. I wouldn't even know where to start."

Ron grinned, knowingly. "It's the solution because unlike her previous husband, she knows she has a man who loves her, and she loves you back. But she also seeks to fulfill the part of her that's still wanting. If she truly believes she can have her cake and eat it too, by keeping your love and getting well fucked by another, why would she refuse? The rest, you just leave that to me. When the time comes, she'll be posing the question to you, not the other way around. I can make sure of that. I'm a master at this."

For the first time ever I found myself seriously contemplating my fantasy becoming a reality. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might jump out of my chest and land in Ron's lap. "And you...you really think you can do this? I mean, I don't even know if you're her type, no offense."

"My friend, I'm already half way there."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you I have something to show you. Brace yourself." Ron leaned over and grabbed a laptop computer from the nightstand and set it in his lap. He opened it and began clicking and typing. "About that little fantasy story I was telling you earlier."

"The one you still haven't finished? You really had me going, I wish you wouldn't have stopped."

"Sorry, but I'm going to leave the ending up to your imagination. You'll have more fun with it that way. What I wanted to say was, what if I told you that story wasn't a fantasy?"

My heart skipped a beat. He had to be fucking with me. "I'd say you were bull****ting me."

"Well, I am a fiction writer, and so I do take some liberties," Ron turned his head and looked at me squarely, "But I can guarantee you that at least some of what I told you actually did happen today."

My lower jaw hung open *************. I didn't know what to say. "H...how?" was all I could muster. Part of me didn't believe him. Part of me wanted to. All of me was numb.

He turned the laptop screen towards me and set it in my lap. "Feel free to scan through these at your leisure."

I was looking at Ron's email inbox. I first noticed one of the messages I'd sent him. Then I noticed several messages from a familiar e-mail address...it was my wife's. My glance immediately shot in his direction.

Ron was smiling. "DD and I have been chatting for a while."

I frantically opened the most recent e-mail, titled - Re; Feeling naughty today? The first thing I saw was a picture of DD standing in what appeared to be a bathroom stall. I could tell it was a self-shot cell phone pic. She was holding her red suit jacket and the blouse underneath open, exposing her bra-clad breasts, and her suit pants were at her knees, showing off her panties. Her underwear was purple, like he'd said. The message was short and sweet – 'Always feeling naughty for you'.

My hands were shaking so badly it was difficult to open the next one. I couldn't speak, or even look at Ron.

The next one was from two days earlier and had no picture, only text. 'Yeah, I hear what you're saying. It was fun though. My emotions are all over the place these days. I'm happy though, mostly.' It was far too vague for me to understand the nature or the meaning of the message.

The next one contained another low quality cell phone picture. It appeared to be in our kitchen. DD was holding the cell phone out in front of her, only her upper half was visible, and she had on only a bra. Her mouth was opened wide and she was pushing a cucumber into it. The text was short, and read like an inside joke - 'Stretch! LOL'

I continued rummaging through his e-mail. Many of them were only text and most were short. My wife was discussing her emotions, her moods, and our relationship, explaining things her and I had done, and conversations we'd had. Some of them discussed her job and co-workers, most I knew, and some I didn't. All of the messages were about as vague as the first one I'd read and left me little to go on as far as figuring out what the nature of her involvement with Ron was.

A few of them had pictures attached. A couple of them were innocent enough, fully clothed, smiling. One had both of us in it, I remembered the night we took it. The majority of them though, had her in various stages of undress in a provocative pose. I hadn't found any of them with nudity.

Most of what I read was pretty tame. But a few things concerned me more than others. There was one picture of her lying on a bed, one that wasn't ours, wearing only panties, a see through babydoll, and fishnet stockings with her legs spread wide. Given the distance and angle I knew she couldn't have snapped it herself with a cell phone. Had Ron taken that picture?

I was also bothered by a name that kept popping up a lot, Kane. I had no idea who that was, and nothing in particular was said that bothered me, just that she mentioned him so much.

The main thing that bothered me was a passage of text in one of the messages that read – 'After we made love tonight, I went into the bathroom and cried. I was at my wits end. I finally had to accept the fact that I can never have an orgasm with the man I love. No matter how he tries, he will never satisfy me.'

"Wh...I...did...who...uh..." I put my hand against my mouth and tried to gather my thoughts as I exhaled deeply. "How did this happen?"

"What are you thinking right now? How do you feel?" Ron analyzed me.

"I, I don't know. This doesn't even make sense to me. I don't know what's going on. You have to tell me!"

"I can imagine it's hard to make sense of it. Those e-mails are incomplete. I deleted a lot of them. We've had some very revealing conversations. I only wanted you to see a handful of them so you'd know I wasn't bull****ting you when I tell you about your wife," Ron refilled my cup with ****** and handed it to me.

"Did you fuck my wife?" I asked, barely able to utter the words without clearing my throat.

Ron smiled and brought his hand to his chin as if he were debating his answer. "I knew you would ask that. No, I haven't fucked her yet. But I will if you ask nicely."

I tipped my cup back and took another *****. My conflicted mind was half way between fantasy land and painful reality, I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed. "Please don't be vague right now. I need to know exactly what's going on. She's sending you pictures of herself and telling you personal ****! How did this happen, Ron!"

Ron squinted. "Change your tone, and ask me nicely."

"What?"

"If you're going to be a cuckold it's important for you to respect the man that owns your wife's pussy. DD has to always see that I am in charge. Now, if you want to hear this, ask properly," Ron brashly demanded.

I was too stunned by his sudden change in demeanor to speak at first, but finally relented. "Ron, please explain this to me. I'm asking as a friend."

Ron sat beside me and patted me on the back. "That's a good start. Did you bring what I asked you for?"

I nodded, pulling a balled up pair of DD's panties from my pocket.

Ron took them from me and pressed them against his face. "Mmmmmm. She got fucked the day she wore these. Her pussy was ripe. She must have been wet all day." Ron removed her panties from his face and began to explain. "I began chatting with her shortly after you and I began talking. One of those photo's you sent of her, it was taken at a company gathering, yes?"

I thought about it then nodded.

"The name of her company was in big letters on a banner in the background. I looked them up on line and found a company directory. It wasn't hard to find her. I found an obviously Asian first name with your Irish last name and I knew it was your wife. Darareaksmey Mc'Kibben?" Ron chuckled at the name.

"Her name means 'bright star'," I said.

"So I e-mailed her. I told her that I'd been browsing the website and come across her name, which was the same as the last name of an old friend of mine who I'd lost contact with from the same town. I asked if there was any chance she was related to Tony Mc'Kibben. Of course she informed me that she was your wife.

"She was very friendly and helpful right from the beginning. She offered to take my contact info and pass it on to you, but I told her not to, that I wanted to come into town and make a surprise visit.

"I started out by asking questions about you and how things were, how long she'd been married to you, things like that. Your wife is quite a chatterbox, my friend! And trusting too, just like you. She was more than happy to tell me whatever I wanted to know, and plenty more that I didn't even ask...like you," Ron chuckled.

"You guys are two peas in a pod, that's for sure. No wonder you wound up together. Never once doubted that I was who I said I was. But she had no reason too, after all I knew a lot about you from all of our e-mail exchanges.

"I won her over pretty easily. I showed her I had a sense of humor right away. I'd crack jokes about you, like how boring you are, how you spend too much time on the computer, and all of the other things you told me she complained about. That resonated with her so she knew she didn't have to pretend that your marriage was perfect just for my sake. In fact, before I knew it I became the complaint department for all things involving you."

I shook my head, "Telling all of our personal business to a stranger."

"You should talk," Ron said, sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

I bowed my head and took a *****.

"When a woman wants to vent about her man, there is no one she'd rather talk to than someone who knows her man. And there I was, unassuming, non judgmental, a good listener, and I could cheer her up by making her laugh. You should thank me, because I pulled your ass out of a sling more than once, whether you know it or not!"

Ron stopped talking and stared at me, and I realized he'd meant it. "Thank you," I said.

"Your welcome. Because it got to the point where the bitch would never shut up. I had to listen and pretend to care about every stupid little thing that went wrong in her life. Car problems, money problems, she hates her job, her boss, she broke a nail, her friend wore an ugly dress, you name it, I had to hear it all. But it all paid off. By pretending to give a **** about all the little things, I got her to open up about the big thing."

"Sex," I stated dryly, now hanging on every word.

"Oh yes, my friend. I cracked a few jokes about how you never were a ladies man and she had a field day talking about your lack of performance in the bedroom. Did you know she's never had an orgasm with you?"

I didn't answer, but the way I shrunk into my shirt must have told him how I felt. I downed the rest of my Cognac.

"She wasn't happy at all. You remember that phase the two of you went through? The issues were many, but that was at the top of it. She was going to leave you," Ron said, sympathetically.

"Leave me?" My words came out in a whisper. I felt like I'd just been punched in the stomach.

"Don't sit there looking like a lost puppy. Once again, I saved your ass. I convinced her she should fuck other men," He stated easily.

"You did what!" I crowed, having to fight off a spell of dizziness.

"Would it be better if you were single? Because that's what would have happened if I hadn't worked my magic on her."

"Who, Ron? Who did she fuck? How long has it been going on?"

"Hold your horses. I didn't say she fucked anyone," Ron looked irritated.

"Did she?" I waited with baited breath.

Ron cleared his throat and ignored my question. "I gotta give it to her, she loves you enough that she didn't want to cheat on you. Most sluts like her wouldn't think twice about getting their needy pussies filled. She was absolutely convinced that the right thing to do was to get a divorce. In a conventional relationship, she'd have been right. Unfortunately you kept your little fantasy from her so she had no idea that she wasn't in a conventional relationship.

"It wasn't very hard to convince her. First I had to get her off the idea of divorce. I made a strong case that it would hurt you a lot more if she left you than if you found out she'd cheated. I even managed to convince her that you were the type of guy who would forgive her if she got caught. I practically guaranteed it.

"Don't worry, I didn't tell her you were a perv who liked the idea of her getting her pussy stretched by strange cock. It was some **** about you being more driven by your emotions than your sexual needs. What a load of crap, huh?" Ron laughed.

"She really didn't want to leave you; she just couldn't cope with idea of never having a fulfilling sex life. I gave her an out, made her feel like she had a get out of jail free card, so-to-speak."

The feeling of relief that came with hearing that she still loved me allowed me to drift completely back into fantasyland. I sat up straight and waited anxiously for him to continue.

"She couldn't talk to you about it, you know? Not wanting to hurt your feelings and all. You're lucky I was there," Ron said, proudly.

"Thank you," I assumed was what he was waiting to hear. "I can't believe she never mentioned you though. All this time?"

Ron smiled. "I thought about that too. Women are tricky though; they can keep their dirty secrets. I think she looks at me more like her friend than yours at this point. Plus, things have gotten pretty flirtatious between us. I'm quite positive that she wants me to fuck her. Maybe she thinks I'll just forget about reconnecting with you and be her lover on the side. She's hinted at it."

"Oh, fuck," I gasped. My cock was as stiff as ever, and my head was doubly clouded by fantasy and ******.

Ron gave me a knowing grin and continued. "This all came about within the first couple of months I chatted her up. I got her to exchange some photos with me. Nothing risqué at first, but it gave me an opportunity to compliment her and flirt a little. But it snowballed pretty quickly. She's a horny little bitch, let me tell you! Sorry you only get to see it when she's *****, but she just isn't comfortable with you in the sex department. You make her feel awkward."

"She told you that?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Then the photo's became more frequent, and more daring. She's asked several times if I'd like to see her naked. I told her I'd like to save that for when we met. She told me she couldn't wait. I'm savoring the anticipation. That's why I've never asked you for that nude photo you have of her. But I'd like to think you would have at least offered it, since I'm the one responsible for you getting it!"

"What? How? She was ***** that night, she get's that way."

"Not like that, you know better. True, she was out ********, but I got her all wet and worked up. We were having cyber sex via text message while she was at the bar that night. She calls it 'sexting'."

"Did you tell her to do that?"

"The photos, or the prostate massage?" Ron laughed. "She said she felt guilty about the cyber sex, it was sort of the first time she'd cheated...by her standards. So I told her to go give you a spicy time when she got home. I did make a few suggestions."

"It was the best sex we ever had," I mumbled. "And she was so much happier after that night."

"I remember. You told me many times how much better your marriage was after that night. That's because she finally had an outlet for her sexuality, obviously. She was on the road to sexual satisfaction for the first time in a long time, and she didn't even have to give you up to do it. And after a while the guilt stopped gnawing at her. I kept her content for quite a while with our cyber and phone sex sessions."

"You had phone sex with her!" I blurted out.

"Oh yes. What do you think inspired those revisited dirty talking sessions you love so much? She gets all breathy and hot when I call her a dirty little fuck slut. Though she says she's not as comfortable with you talking dirty to her. She just doesn't see you as a sexual being, she see's you as someone she wants to love and respect her. Having you calling her a slut doesn't exactly fall in line, ya know? But apparently there are moments she can't resist, even if it's with you."

"She does like it. I knew it," I absently muttered, not even aware that I was rubbing myself through my pants.

Ron looked down at what my hand was doing, making me aware of it. "Go ahead and let him out. Might as well."

"Oh...uh...no need," I said, uncomfortably.

"Don't be a baby," Ron said, unwrapping his towel and letting his own dick spring out. "You jerk off to my stories. Hell, we've even had what many people would consider cyber sex. Tonight, for example? And I doubt you'll be containing it while you're watching me screw your slut wife in every orifice. So get used to it."

I could hardly help myself. The strong buzz I had from the Cognac only made me more suggestible than I already was. It felt good to undo my pants and let my cock spring free.

"What are you, a five-incher? Six at best?" Ron smirked. "That explains a lot. It's more than I thought you'd have, but still. Nine and thick here, buddy!" Ron stroked his cock to a very quick erection. "I did a couple of porno's in the early 90's. I'll send you some links," He boasted.

I sat there staring at his huge pole, imagining what it could do to my wife.

"You like that?" Ron asked, finally getting me to look up at his face.

"Uh...no! I was just..."

"Cock envy, huh?"

"Sure," I looked away from him, uncomfortably.

"For someone who used to jack off to gay porn, you sure act like a homophobe."

"That was just a phase," I assured him. "I'm not attracted to men. But I'm not a homophobe either."

"Hey, I get it. You like big cocks, you're just not interested in the men attached to them," Ron laughed.

"I never said I liked big cocks!"

"Of course you do. You don't fantasize about your wife getting fucked by a little one, do you?"

I thought about it for a moment and admitted, "No."

Ron grabbed my wife's silky, pink panties, wrapped them around his dick and began to stroke it with them. "One day soon your wife's cunt could be impaled on this big cock. What do you think about that?"

I shrugged, getting goose bumps at the thought of it.

"Enough of the coy **** from you. We both know what you want. Just say it. Tell me you want to see this big cock in DD's pussy, cuckold. "

I was frozen, watching DD's panties slide up and down his long shaft, imagining her in them...sliding up and down his long shaft. I couldn't get myself to say no, nor could I get myself to say yes.

"I'm waiting," he said, impatiently.

"Ron...please...give me time to think about this," I finally spoke. Under the spell of intoxicating fantasies and ******, it took every ounce of my being not to blurt out an astounding, 'Yes! Fuck my wife!'

"You don't have time. And I don't have any more patience. You and your fucking indecision have tested my patience for too long. You beg for it, then you wallow in shame. It's pathetic! What's the matter with you? Commit yourself to some form of action rather than just sitting there complacent while you suffer from your miserable, unfulfilling sex life!" Ron scolded me.

"If I'm not going to fuck her, then I'm going to focus my attention elsewhere. I could have crammed my dick into your wife a thousand times by now, but I've waited for you to become as willing as your wife. That wasn't easy, her being the hot little piece of ass that she is. Do you know the things I could make a submissive little whore like that do?" Ron grabbed my hand and placed it on his cock.

"Stroke it for me," Ron commanded, wrapping my fingers around my wife's panties and ******* my hand in an up and down motion.

I reflexively tried to pull back, but his grip was powerful and firm.

"Don't fight it. Show some appreciation for the cock that's going to save your marriage. So help me, if you take your hand off my dick you can consider me gone from your life and hers. Make your mind up, boy. Now." Ron released his grip on my hand.

I nodded, staring in disbelief at my own hand, gliding up and down another man's cock, my wife's panties separating my skin from his.

"That's a yes then? Repeat after me. I'm in control of her sex life, and yours. Your wife's pussy belongs to me and you will do whatever I ask of you. If at any time you refuse to do what I ask of you, this arrangement is off. Understand?" Ron looked me directly in the eyes.

I swallowed hard. "I understand. You're in control of our sex life and my wife's pussy is yours. I'll do what you say."

"Good choice, because you're marriage might be in a bit of trouble again," Ron laid back, propping up a pillow behind his head. "Keep stroking, boy. You really know how to work a cock with your hand. All that practice at jerking off really shows."

"Ron..." I began.

"Address me as sir from this point on," Ron said, sternly.

"Sir? What kind of trouble is my marriage in? I thought she was happy?"

"Well, DD was getting restless. We were having fun with the cyber and phone sex, but that slut of ours has a needy pussy that needed to get stuffed. So I gave her permission to fuck someone," Ron answered casually.

My eyes got wide. "You gave her permission!"

Ron smiled big. "Well, sort of. I can't say I've fully put her under my control yet. But she did consult me about the idea of spreading her legs for someone she likes. Not to say she wouldn't have done it anyway, but I think she needed me to make her feel ok about it. So I did."

"My, my, my wife is fucking someone?" I felt my body shaking.

"For the past few months," Ron nodded. "There have been a few, but only one that you ought to really be concerned about. His name is Kane."

"DD is fucking someone else," I repeated, lost in my thoughts.

"Spreading her pussy around like the whore she is," Ron chuckled. "Snap out of it, boy. I know your feelings are a mixed bag, but it does no good to think of the negatives. Just take it with a grain of salt and enjoy your fantasy."

"I, I know. You're right," I said, not truly convinced. "How many men has she been with? Did she tell you about it? Did she like it?" I rattled off questions in a frenzy.

"The first was a man who works at her favorite watering hole. A bartender. I believe his name is also Tony."

"That guy? He's a kid! He's barely old enough to legally pour a ******"

Ron grinned. "And his inexperience showed in the bathroom stall where he fucked her. She said he pounded her cunt like an ******, and she enjoyed it quite a bit for all of the sixty seconds that it lasted. Poor boy got too excited I guess. She wasn't too happy about that. No repeat business for him."

"In a bathroom stall?" I fixated on what a slutty act that was. Then I remembered banging her in the parking lot the night I'd met her. I guessed she was staying true to form. I wrapped my free hand around my own cock.

"What's interesting is the way she described him," Ron noted. "Dark hair, blue eyes, skinny, sound familiar? And to top it off his name is also Tony. The second guy didn't have a name. A random pick up at the same bar and she got herself fucked in the back seat of a Honda. First orgasm she's had in years that she didn't have to give herself. Dark hair, blue eyes, skinny...she definitely has a type."

"The backseat of a Honda," I breathed heavily as I stroked my dick. "Slut...whore..."

"You're focusing a little too much on your pleasure and not enough on mine. Work my cock, cuck boy," Ron said irritably.

"Sorry," I said, meekly.

Ron grabbed my hand and stopped my rhythm. "Take your clothes off."

I looked at him blankly.

"And put these on," he tossed DD's panties into my lap.

I didn't move, shocked at what he was asking me to do.

"You've read my stories and gotten off to them, so don't look stunned when I make a simple request like this. I'm about to get to the important part. But if you'd like me to stop and leave you alone, go ahead and sit there looking at me like a fucking idiot. Get to it! Thirty seconds!"

I got myself undressed as quickly as I could, Ron watching intently as I stripped naked. I stared at the panties, my mind cueing in on the fact that they'd last been worn by my wife, and according to Ron, had covered her pussy after she'd been fucked by another man. The kinkiness of putting them on suddenly seemed strangely exciting to me. In my head I was asking myself, what the hell is wrong with you! I needed another weird fetish like I needed a hole in the head.

They were a little tight, but I managed to get them on, my hard dick poking out the side.

Ron nodded approvingly. "Good, sissy boy. I'm glad they fit. From now on I want you to wear your wife's underwear exclusively."

My face crumpled up like an angry *****.

"The answer you're looking for is yes, sir."

"Yes, sir," I said, reluctantly, not convinced I would actually follow such an order.

Ron patted the bed and gave his cock a few strokes, "Now, get back to it and let me fill you in on the rest."

I sat down beside him and took his swollen rod back in my hand. Without DD's panties covering it I could feel every contour of his veiny monster, making me even more keenly aware of what I was doing. It felt strange to be holding another man's dick in my hand, but not as awkward as I thought it would. I felt ashamed for not being completely disgusted.

"Get it wet," Ron ordered.

Very slowly I lowered my head towards his dick, putting on a display of reluctance that was as much for my own benefit as it was for his. Deep down, I could not allow myself to believe that I was actually ok with what I was doing.

With my mouth hovering only inches above his huge pole, I expelled my spit onto his cock to lube him up. I worked it in with a few strokes of my hand, and felt Ron pushing on the back of my head.

"Wetter," he said, firmly pressing me down to his cock until it hit my lips. "Open up."

My mouth opened and he pushed me further, ******* me to open wider until I had the full girth of his cock stuffed tightly in my mouth.

"Good. Now move your hand, you won't need it," He said, gripping my wrist and pulling my hand from his shaft.

I looked up at his smug, grinning face, realizing the power he must have felt over me.

"That's right, suck cock, Tony. Suck the cock that's going to fill DD's cunt. You're going to learn to love it. You'll be as good as your wife in no time," Ron moaned.

With his hand gripping the back of my head, he began to guide me up and down his shaft with my mouth.

I didn't resist. I knew there was no point. I'd already crossed the line, put him in control of making my long time fantasy a reality, and though wearing panties and playing with his dick hadn't been a part of the fantasy, I told myself that it was a necessary evil to please him – that I was doing it for the sake of achieving my fantasy and not for any other reason.

At the same time, it was the cure for my guilt. I should welcome this, I told myself. I reminded myself that essentially, I'd agreed to allow this man to make a whore of my wife, and a mockery of my marriage. I felt low down and dirty, more at that moment than ever before. ****** to wear panties, ****** to suck his dick, that was my punishment. I deserved it.

"The third time was with a man you know. Ben is his name."

"Mmmmuhg!" I grunted with my mouth full. Ben was an older, married man who lived across the street! I never liked him.

"Shhhh, suck that cock, and let me finish," Ron said, easily. "She seduced him. I had to tell her how. She's only just now learning how to command her sexuality. Most women know instinctively the power they have over men, but DD is a work in progress.

"Anyhow, that was another one that didn't turn out how she hoped. He has a nice cock I hear, but completely clueless. She took a vacation day from her job just so she could fuck him in your house while you were at work. He screwed her right in your living room. But don't worry he won't be back.

"She was getting frustrated. Three cocks, and two were a complete waste of time. DD found out just how many men there are out here who don't know how to fuck. She was pretty broken up about it too. That same night I spent an hour on the phone with her trying to make her stop crying about how she'd risked her marriage for nothing. She was putting a major guilt trip on herself. She was ready to give it up and resign herself to a lifetime of masturbatory orgasms and unfulfilling sex with you. Can you believe that?

"But I knew you wouldn't want that, so I talked her out of it and told her to speak with her friends to find a guy with a proven track record. So apparently she heard through the grapevine about this young man named Kane, who works at her job. He was supposed to be the cat's ass when it came to laying the pipe.

"Watch your fucking teeth, sissy boy!" Ron hissed.

"Shiree," I gasped.

"Breath through your nose. There you go. Yeeeeessss, yeeeeesssss, suck me. Now you've got it," Ron relaxed. "So where was I? Ohhh fuck. You're sucking that cock like you like it! Do you like being a cocksucker, sissy boy? Mmmmm suck my big dick! Suck it! Yeeeeaaaahhh!"

Ron ****** my head into a faster rhythm. His thick head was hitting the back of my throat and I was having a hard time with it.

"When you feel like gagging, just swallow hard to fight your reflex," Ron instructed. "Yes, that's it. Suck my big cock! Take it! Take it!" He grunted. "Aahhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Reflexively I tried to pull away as he began shooting his hot, thick cum into my mouth, but he held me down, ******* me to take it. I wouldn't swallow it, so it gushed from the corners of my mouth in abundance.

"Keep sucking, bitch! Milk me!" Ron growled, ******* me to continue bobbing up and down on his dick as his jizz leaked out of my mouth. When he finished with one last violent thrust into my mouth, he relaxed, releasing his grip on my head.

I flung myself back on the bed gasping for air, cringing as I reluctantly swallowed a few remnants of his sperm, then wiped the rest from my mouth and chin.

Ron lay beside me, smiling contentedly. "You learn much faster than most men who've I had to teach," he complimented.

"Thank you, sir," I gulped, cringing, disgusted with myself, but still hoping to get the rest of the story on DD. "So what happened with Kane?"

"Kane? Right. He fucked her. Fucked her real good. The best sex she's ever had," Ron rolled onto his side to face me. "She was giddy as a school girl after their first time. Long story short, he's had exclusive rights to her pussy since then, except for you of course. He's been banging your wife for the last two months, and quite frequently at that."

"So there hasn't been anyone else but those four?"

"Uh...some guy who works at a gas station, I think I recall, but that's irrelevant. DD is infatuated with Kane's cock. They fuck once, sometimes twice a day. He bangs her on her lunch break, and occasionally after work. And she sneaks out on the weekends just to get some too. Next time she tells you she's going shopping on a Saturday, know that she is going to go get her pussy stuffed. This could be bad for you," Ron looked genuinely concerned.

I nodded, my eyes searching the room looking for nothing in particular. "What do I do? Confront her?"

"Nooooo! If you do that she'll know exactly who you found out from. She's very concerned about keeping her secrecy. She's worried all the time about you finding out. No one knows about this affair, not even her friends, only me. So you can never let on that you know. Got it?"

"I got it. But if she's worried about keeping it a secret, then she still cares about our marriage, right?"

"The thing is, she's been complaining a lot about Kane lately."

"That's good right? She's getting tired of him, ready to move on?"

"How clueless are you? You don't complain about someone you're fucking, unless you care. She's worried that he might be fucking another woman. She's jealous. She complains about other things too, like how he doesn't answer his phone sometimes when she calls, or how he was in a bad mood and got short with her. It's starting to become more than just about sex, get it?

"And if she's not complaining about how indifferent he's acting towards her, she's whining about how he's become controlling and trying to make her stay out with him later than she's supposed too. Telling her to leave you, telling her to spend the night and make up ridiculous lies to explain where she's been. Like I said, other men are going to try to make her theirs, and not just her little snatch either."

I felt my stomach turn in a knot. "So what do I do if I can't confront her?"

Ron smiled, "Lucky for you, I'm going to take care of situation. Once I step into the picture, Kane is history, rest assured."

"Well when are you going to do that?"

"Soon."

"Soon? Ron, sir, what if you're too late?" I pleaded. "I can't lose her!"

"Take it easy. There's no guarantee that he'd make off with your woman even if I didn't intervene. I'm just saying it's something to be aware of. You want to be extra careful right now, don't do anything to piss her off. When I'm ready, I'll step in. In the meantime, you just do whatever I tell you to do. We'll get rid of Kane."

"I'd feel better if you stepped in now. I mean, fuck, I just sucked your fucking cock! What about your end of the deal!" I whined.

Ron sat up, yelling, "You think I have nothing better to do than deal with this? I'll step in when I'm damn good and ready! It's your own fault it's taken this long in the first place! For all I know you're going to go jerk off and have one of your delusional moments of clarity and try to call the whole thing off! I am not going to have my time wasted. I want to see obedience and commitment from you. Until then, Kane can keep on taxing her whore cunt!"

"But," I was lost for words. I'd gone from being scared of what would happen if he did screw DD, to what would happen if he didn't.

"Get dressed, and go home. I'll call you tomorrow," Ron said, coldly.

Part 6 – The Battle Against Reality

"Honey? Honey? Are you awake?"

I cracked my eyes slightly, but pretended to still be a*****. DD was wearing red thong panties and a matching bra, checking herself in the mirror atop the dresser. She looked over her shoulder one more time to make sure I was still ********, then picked up and pointed her cell phone at the mirror to snap a picture. I knew exactly who she was sending it to.

I had morning wood, typical. The sight of her scantily clad body only made it worse. Knowing that Ron would soon be enjoying the sight of my wife's body heightened my arousal. And knowing that a stranger named Kane would be fucking her in a few hours stiffened my erection to a painful state.

But knowing she might have feelings for Kane made my stomach turn. And knowing what I'd done with Ron the night before made my face flush. Then I was suddenly mortified to realize that under the covers, I was still wearing her panties!

When I'd returned home from the meet up with Ron, I'd laid there a long a time watching her ***** beside me, the battle between my fantasy and my conflicted emotions raging on through the night. Somehow I'd dozed off and forgotten what I was wearing.

I clutched the covers tightly in case she tried to yank them off of me as she sometimes did when she woke me in the mornings.

"Honey? It's time to get up," DD said, pulling a sweater over her head. She stepped into her grey, below-the-knee length skirt and came to my side of the bed. "Wake up, Tony. You're going to be late," she said, shaking me.

"I'm, uh, I'm taking a sick day. I don't feel good," I said, holding onto the covers for dear life.

DD put her hands on her hips and gave me a concerned look. "Well I hope it's a paid sick day. We can't afford for you to miss work! What's wrong with you anyway?"

"Nothing, my stomach. I'll be ok, just need to rest."

DD sighed. "I bet it's that flu going around." She paused for a long time as if pondering something. "Maybe I'll stay at my ******* tonight. I don't wanna get sick too. I don't have any sick days left. What do you think?"

I think you want to spend the night with Kane, I thought to myself. Her parents hated me, mainly because I wasn't Cambodian. Snubbing her first marriage that they'd arranged was a slap in the face to them, and they saw me as the culprit, as if I'd corrupted her in some way. She knew I'd never call over there to check on her story. "Yeah, better not get you sick too."

DD smiled big then quickly wiped it off her face. "Awwww, my poor baby. Get some rest. I'll call you later to check on you."

"DD," I grabbed her hand, "I love you. More than anything. You know that right?"

My wife stared at me blankly a moment, then her eyes began to water. "I love you too," her voice cracked when she spoke. She quickly turned away from me and rubbed her sleeve across her face. "Call you later," she said, making a quick exit from the room.

I rolled onto my stomach and tried to think of anything other than DD. My urge to masturbate at that moment was an overwhelming, shivering, shaking, feverish feeling, like an addict in withdrawal. I hadn't done it since the previous day before she'd come home, and I was deliberately avoiding it.

It was those blasted moments of clarity that came after an orgasm that scared me. I didn't want to face those feelings. Now more than ever, I imagined the guilt and shame that would come over me once my mind was unclouded by my perversions. Only now I'd have to face the fact that I couldn't turn the reality back into just a fantasy. I wasn't sure I could handle that.

I thought of disgusting things like steaming piles of horse manure, and senior citizens in the nude, anything repulsive enough to shrink my erection. It worked.

Too distracted by my problems to be productive, I called in sick to work anyway. I spent the next few hours searching for distractions, TV, cooking, cleaning up the house, anything to avoid the lucid mental pictures of DD with another man's cock in her mouth, or of Ron's in mine. Somehow, everything I did found a way to remind me. It was no use.

I logged on to the computer, preparing to rub out an orgasm and face the music, when I got a text message from Ron on my cell phone.

U r not really sick r u?

"DD already told him," I thought out loud. No, I replied.

Well Kane will be happy. Now he gets to spend the night fucking DD's brains out. Ron returned my text.

I know. I knew what she planning when she said she was going to her *******.

Trying to make it easy for him? U r a fool. A lot could happen and I don't mean sex.

Don't remind me. I fucked up, I replied.

I'll find a way to fix it. U owe me.

Thank you.

Thank you, SIR? Ron reminded me of his dominance.

Thank you sir.

Are you wearing panties like a good little sissy?

Yes, I lied. I'd long since taken them off.

Show me. Send me a picture.

"Fuck!" I jumped out of my seat and raced into the bedroom to dig through DD's panty drawer.

As I slid into a pair of my wife's lacy, white panties, I became keenly aware of the fact that there was no way out of doing it on a daily basis. There was no telling if Ron was going to check for proof at any given time.

I sent him the requested picture and got a response of, Good girl. Talk 2 u later.

I tried to resume my masturbation session but now I was too distracted. How was I going to explain it if DD caught me wearing her underwear? How humiliating would that be? She already thought I was a dud in the bedroom, what would she think of me then?

Part of me wanted to tell Ron to fuck off, but I feared he had too much influence with DD. He might decide to take on a personal vendetta against me and completely destroy my marriage if I disrespected him. Besides, this Kane character had to go, and Ron had me convinced that I needed his help for that. And on top of that, my fantasy still ruled my thoughts.

Who was this man named Kane who was about to spend the night with my wife? I decided to find out. I threw some clothes on, hopped in my car and headed to DD's job.

I arrived fifteen minutes before DD's scheduled lunch hour. I parked across the street from her building where I could see the employee entrance. If they really were fucking on their lunch breaks, surely they'd have to go somewhere else to do it.

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later I caught sight of my wife exiting the building with a large group of people. She seemed to be sticking close to one man in particular, a tall, mid thirties looking guy with dark hair.

"Huh," I muttered, remembering what Ron had said about her being attracted to men who were similar in appearance to me. I found it flattering, at least I knew she found me attractive if nothing else.

She stood talking to him for a while in front of her grey Chevy Malibu, shivering in the cold. Then he got into another vehicle and she got into hers. I expected her to follow him when he pulled away, but she didn't. She pulled up in front of the employee entrance and stopped.

Suddenly a tall, black man emerged from the building. He swung his head around every which way as if watching out for something, and then quickly hopped into DD's car and she sped away urgently.

"You have to be shitting me!" I wailed. I peeled out of the parking lot and gave chase, making sure I stayed far enough back not to be spotted by her. DD was really flying down the road in an incredible hurry. She never drove like that, especially on the slippery winter roads.

You didn't tell me Kane was black! I sent a text to Ron.

DD pulled into the parking lot of the Extended Stay hotel down the street from her job. I pulled into the parking lot of the Greek restaurant adjacent to it and watched them get out of the car together. Kane's hand planted firmly on my wife's ass as they walked into the hotel.

Ron's reply finally came through. Why does that matter? And why r u spying on your wife? Think about what happens if she catches u.

"What happens if she catches me?" I gasped. "She's the one in a hotel room with a black guy!" But I knew what he'd meant. She wasn't supposed to know I knew about this.

I sat in the car contemplating my next move. Sitting outside was pointless. Why had I even come, just to see what he looked like? Did it really matter? I supposed it didn't. The supposed myth of the big black cock was ever present in my mind though.

My cock stretched DD's panties as I sat there imagining her taking Kane's big cock in her furry cunt, making her scream and moan. This was my fantasy after all, my wife being a slut for another man, a black guy no less. It just wasn't happening how I imagined it...I wasn't there enjoying it.

Without thinking, I exited the car and walked towards the hotel. It was like my penis was leading the way, silencing the pleas of my brain to turn around.

I asked the twenty something kid working the front desk what room the black and Asian couple had checked into, setting a twenty-dollar bill on the counter at the same time. He looked at it and told me he couldn't relinquish that information. I pulled out another twenty.

"Three nineteen. I always give them three nineteen," he replied with a grin. "Damn, that little Asian chick really gets around. Any chance I can get in on it?"

"She's a real whore, ain't she?" I said, smiling as if I wasn't bothered at all by his comment.

"That's why I always give her a corner room, less noise complaints that way," he chuckled. "Man, I'd like to get a piece of that. I didn't know the black dude was into passing her around."

"She always come here with him? Has she ever come here with someone else? How often do they come here?" I couldn't repress my need to know.

"Every single...oh, *****" he cracked a big smile as he stared at my wedding band. "You're the husband, aren't you?"

I didn't respond.

"Man, I knew she wasn't married to him. I noticed she had a ring the first time she came in, but he never wore one. Aw, man, sorry dude. I'd kick a guys ass too if that was my girlfriend. I'd fuckin' kick her ass too! Man, it's cool. Do what you gotta do. I won't call the cops, I swear man!"

"Don't worry, there wont be any trouble," I said, walking away.

"Oh, it's like that? You're one of those guys that likes that ****? Well, hey, man! What's up? Can I get some too?" He shouted after me as I headed for the elevator.

Another text from Ron rang in while in the elevator. So u r sitting in the parking lot of the extended stay in Lombard right now aren't u. why? what is that doing for u?

I replied, I'm in the hotel.

As soon as the elevator door opened on the third floor I could hear the faint moans of DD's ecstasy. As I nervously proceeded towards the room, they grew louder. The feeling was surreal, knowing that she'd never even come close to reaching that tone with me, but now another man's cock was driving her wild, past the point of inhibition.

Another text from Ron distracted me, listening in? u have more balls than I thought. How does it feel to hear your wife scream in pleasure from another mans big cock?

"Oh Kane! Oh god! Fuck me Kane! Yes! Yes! Give me that big cock!" DD's voice bellowed through the door. During the moments of silence I could hear the bed squeaking violently.

I put the phone in my pocket and ignored Ron. I was stroking myself through my jeans as I stood outside their door, listening.

"Yeah, you like this black dick baby? You don't get this at home do you? Huh? Huh?"

"Mmmmm yes I love it! Talk dirty to me, Kane! I'm a bad girl!" DD moaned.

"Yeah, you're a little slut for this black dick, ain't you bitch!'

"Yes baby! I'm your slut! Fuck your little slut's tight pussy, Kane!"

"Who's fuckin' pussy is this, bitch?" Kane's voice was followed by a loud smack.

"It's your pussy, daddy!"

I was shaking badly, a mess of emotions spinning my head, but still intently focused on the action, rubbing my dick through my jeans, praying no one entered the hallway.

"I'm gonna stretch that pussy all night long, slut! Ain't I?"

"Yes, daddy!"

I heard another loud smack, "Ain't I!"

"Yes, daddy!" DD hit a higher pitch. "Oh god I'm cummmmmmmiiiiing! Don't stop!"

"Cum on this black dick, bitch! You ain't done! Turn over, slut!"

I was getting ready to cum in my pants in unison with her when my phone rang, causing me to jump back from the door. I hurriedly shuffled down the hallway with a stiff leg, trying frantically to dig my phone out of my pocket and silence it before they heard it.

"Hello!" I yelled in a whispery voice as I ducked around the corner by the elevator.

"Get out of there, Tony," Ron said. "You'll have plenty of time to hear her moan in the weeks, months, and years to come. You're a cuckold now. Now and forever."

"I, uh," I fumbled my words, as I processed 'cuckold - now and forever'. "Ok, I'll leave." I had no intention of leaving.

"I want you at my office in twenty minutes. I'll text you the address. If you're even one minute late, you're going to regret it. Leave now." Ron hung up.

"Damn it!" I rested my head back against the wall. I could still hear DD getting fucked. I didn't want to, but I knew I had to leave.

I had a perpetual hard on all the way to Ron's office. The only thing distracting me from rubbing my dick the whole way, was having to weave in and out of traffic just to get there in time. I had no idea how he would make me regret being late, but I didn't want to find out.

I speed walked from my car into his office looking at my watch, I had one minute. I took the stairs rather than the elevator to save time, and made it to the reception desk where she paged him, with little to spare.

I made note of how she addressed him as 'Mr. Rossi.' It occurred to me that the name on the marquis near the entrance was Rossi and Associates, LLC.

"Ah, Mr. Mc' Kibben, just in time. Follow me," Ron greeted me in a professional manner.

Dressed in what appeared to be a very expensive business suit, Ron looked every bit as powerful as he acted. I felt relieved to know that he was a successful professional and not just some perverted loser who lived in his ******** basement. Not that I'd ever thought he'd be anything less, but now I saw the proof. Suddenly all of his promises seemed more real.

We went into his office and he locked the door behind us.

"A half hour drive, in twenty minutes," I said, a bit irritably. "That wasn't fair."

"And it isn't fair that you only have half of a dick," Ron said, coldly, "But such is life. Strip for me. Let's see those panties."

I looked over my shoulder at the door.

"No one will be coming in. Now hurry up, I have things to do. Strip, bitch."

"Yes sir," I submitted easily, shedding my clothes until I had on only DD's panties.

"Very good," Ron circled around me, looking me up and down. "There's room for improvement, but it won't be hard at all."

"What won't be hard?" I asked, my head hung down.

"Bend over my desk," Ron shoved me in the back, ignoring my question. "It seems DD has her little heart set on getting stuffed with Kane's cock all night long, so I didn't bother to try talking her out of spending the night. But I'm going to look at this as an opportunity, rather than a set back."

"How so?" I asked, getting goose bumps as he ran his hands down my back to my ass.

"You were a bad girl following her to that hotel, Tony," Ron said, smacking me hard on the ass. "Or should I call you Tonya? Yes, I like that better. I'll call you Tonya." Ron spanked me again.

"I'm...I'm sorry sir," I sheepishly replied. I was becoming aroused as I felt his power over me, and I didn't know why.

Ron laughed. "Not a submissive? Did you try to convince me of that last night? What a joke." Three more strikes from his hand in quick succession stung my panty covered ass. "You are very submissive, aren't you Tonya?"

"Yes sir," I answered, my stiff dick poking out the top of the panties.

"You're getting turned on by this. Are you sure you aren't gay? That would explain why you can't please your wife."

"Yes sir, I'm sure."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I'm not attracted to men. I love women," I said, feeling my cock pulse as he slapped my ass again.

"So then it must be the act of ********** that floats your boat, ey?"

"I don't know."

"I do. A very submissive, bi sexual."

"I'm not..."

"Shut up, Tonya," he slapped my reddened ass again. "You are. You sucked my cock last night. And you liked it didn't you?"

I swallowed hard. "I, I didn't hate it."

"You didn't hate it, and you hate that you didn't hate it, don't you?"

"Sir?"

"A straight man doesn't suck cock. And if he were ****** to he would be repulsed by it. He would hate it. But you didn't hate it. That must bother you. You have to admit to yourself that you are bi sexual. You like cock, sissy girl," Ron cackled. "Say it. Tell me you like my cock."

I heard his zipper go down, then felt his thick, swollen dick being slapped against my ass. I cursed my own feelings as I became even more aroused. I didn't want to say it. Saying it made it more real. I couldn't be that way!

"Ashamed? Whether you admit it or not, you still liked sucking my cock. That isn't going to go away, your thoughts will haunt you. Own up to it. Own your sexuality my little cocksucker, don't let it own you."

"I liked sucking your cock!" I blurted out, amazed at my own words.

"Good!" Ron jubilantly exclaimed. "That wasn't so hard! It's easier to deal with the things we admit to ourselves than those we deny, isn't it? Now get on your knees and tell me again."

I turned around and sank to my knees where Ron's stiff cock met me in the face. "I liked sucking your cock," I said, easier this time, as I leaned into it, letting it touch my lips.

"Oh, you want to suck it again, bitch? Just say please."

"Please let me suck your cock," I pleaded. I was so ready for it that I didn't have time to feel ashamed for wanting to, I just wanted to. Ron knew every one of my dirty secrets, and I felt like he saw me for what I was better than I did. I liked the feeling of not having to hide.

"That's a good girl, suck on my big dick, Tonya," he said as he pushed deep into my mouth.

I eagerly opened my mouth for his huge dick. Warm, pulsing, stiff, I sucked on it hungrily, forgetting the labels and judgments that I shamed myself with. My mind was numb from the events of the past twenty-four hours and I was tired of thinking, worrying, fighting against myself. I'd discovered something new that I liked and I just wanted to enjoy myself for once, without the guilt.

I wanted to suck his cock.

"Oh fuck, Tonya. It's so much better when you put your heart in it. You are a natural cocksucker. Ohhhhh yeees, keep going, just like that. I'm gonna give you a present," Ron groaned, holding a fist full of my hair as he pushed himself in and out of my mouth.

Ron wasn't gentle but I didn't care. I remembered his lesson from the night before, swallow hard when you want to gag, and so I did. I let him gag me with his oversized pole and I sucked him harder.

I looked up and stared into his eyes as he fed me his meat. On my knees with his dick thrusting into my mouth I'd never felt so completely under the control of another person. Maybe he was right, maybe it was the act of ********** that got me going.

I'd never looked at a man in a sexual way. I'd masturbated to gay porn, but never found myself attracted to the men in the videos. I was only turned on by the act. The same was true now. Even as I passionately slurped on his long pole, I didn't look at Ron the way I looked at my wife or another sexy woman. Yet here I was, hungry for his big dick. Was I bisexual, or was it something else? Stop thinking, I told myself. Suck that cock.
"Play with your little dick, sissy girl. Get off while you suck my dick!" Ron ordered.

DD's panties hung around my tightening balls and as I stroked myself. I'd never gone so long without masturbating before, so I knew it would be quick.

I felt him tensing. I wanted him to cum before me. I sucked harder, faster, I wanted to drain him. "Uuuggghhh!" I wailed as I began shooting my massive load all over my knees.

"Oh no you don't!" He grabbed my head with both hands and began fucking my mouth.

I was still coming down from my own orgasm, my lust for his cock fading, but I didn't resist. I let him fuck my mouth until he unloaded, gagging as I ************* swallowed his cum.

When he finished, he leaned back against his desk, a satisfied look on his face. "I hope DD sucks cock as good as you. Maybe Kane will teach her some new tricks tonight," Ron joked.

The mental clarity I'd avoided was now consuming me; the guilt, the shame, I didn't find it funny. Still, there was less regret in me than usual. My mind was adapting to this new reality. A twinge of disgust hit me as I wiped his cum from the corners of my mouth. I still didn't regret it. I sucked a cock and liked it, no big deal, I told myself. More so than anything, I worried about where things were heading.

"You need to go home now and do something for me," Ron said. "I want you to shave."

I ran my fingers across my face. "I shaved this morning," I informed him.

"Not there. Everywhere else," Ron said.

"My balls?"

"What part of everywhere don't you understand? Your legs, your pubes, and anywhere else there's hair on your body. It won't be hard. You don't have much hair anywhere else."

"How am I supposed to explain that to DD? You know, we do still have sex sometimes, even if it's not good sex. She's gonna wonder," I said, adjusting my dick back into my wife's panties. "And how am I going to explain my new choice of underwear to her?"

"Tell the truth. That you're a sissy girl who likes to wear panties, and you shave to feel more like the woman you are," Ron thoughtlessly suggested.

"That's not the truth!"

"Yes it is. It's a truth you haven't fully grown into yet, but still the truth. Besides, it's important for her to see you in this way. It alleviates the guilt for her of wanting to fuck other men. If you're not a man, then she has a much more valid excuse, don't you see?"

"That's fucking ridiculous, Ron! Do you realize how you sound!?" I whined.

"Do you realize how you sound? Who is in charge here, sissy girl? Are there things I need to remind you of?" Ron pointed a warning finger at me.

"I'm sorry," I hung my head, not feeling sorry, but knowing I was better off not to cross him.

"She already knows you like to wear panties. I told her," Ron sat back, pushing his cock back into his pants and zipping up.

"Ron, sir, I never wore women's underwear a day in my life before yesterday. Why would you tell her that?"

"Because you're going to wear them every day forward. I knew this day would come, Tonya. I even told her about how your old friends would call you Tonya, because you were so feminine. I was laying plans for this long before we met last night," Ron chuckled. "Always a step ahead of things. That's how I achieve success in everything I do."

"Let me get this straight. You were telling her lies about me before I even agreed to go along with any of this? What if I hadn't wanted this? She's been going around thinking I'm some kind of fag! What the hell!" I started picking up my clothes and getting dressed.

"They weren't lies, they were more like premonitions. I know you better than you know yourself. You deny what you are, that's why you spend your life running in circles, never getting anywhere. I'm helping you keep on the path. What's done is done. It doesn't matter now. The point is, it's taking you where you want to go."

"By humiliating me in front of my wife?" I steamed.

"Oh, I think you knew this was part of the game when you decided to deal with me. You're my number one fan, remember? You know how all my stories go. Besides, it's only humiliating if you choose not to accept it yourself. No one can embarrass you, unless you let yourself feel embarrassed," Ron said, calmly.

"Well I'm fucking embarrassed! Happy!" I broke my pant's zipper as I yanked on it too hard.

"But why? Whether it was true or not when I told her, she's had the knowledge that you were into feminizing for quite a while now, but has she treated you any differently?"

"No. But she hasn't seen it with her own eyes," I reminded him.

"That'll only be a reaffirmation of what she already knows. You know California has Palm Trees, even if you've never been there. You don't get shocked when you finally see them. And believe me, she didn't doubt me for a second when I told her. I think she sees it in you too."

"But that's," I stopped, realizing the futility of the argument. Did my wife really believe those things about me? Did I project that kind of an image? A sissy?

"Go home and shave. I'm going to call your house phone later. You'd better answer," Ron warned, opening the door to his office. "Thanks for stopping by, Mr. Mc' Kibben, have a pleasant day."

I walked out of his office as quickly as I could without seeming pissed off, even faking a smile at the receptionist as I walked out the door.

I drove home in silence, no music, only my own thoughts. Ron was right about one thing, I had been running in circles most of my life. I knew what I wanted, mostly, but never went after it. Now Ron was ******* me to do just that. But this was on his terms, not my own.

DD was already fucking someone else whether I liked it or not. I hadn't set the fantasy in motion on my own, but I wanted to reign it back in to something I could control, something I was a part of. I needed Ron for that, or at least I thought I did.

In spite of how I felt, I couldn't ignore that my life had suddenly become more exciting than it had ever been. I decided to ignore my fear and see how things played out.

As I pulled into my driveway I saw Ben, my married neighbor who'd fucked my wife, outside shoveling his driveway. I sat in the car for a moment, staring at Ben in my rear view. Everything about this guy bothered me, right down to the shape of his head.

I got out of the car and headed towards him. He saw me coming but kept on shoveling as if nothing was wrong. I kept an easy pace and avoided scowling so as not to give away my intentions.

As I stopped in front of him, he leaned against his shovel, a cocky smirk on his face. "Still driving that piece of ****, huh?"

I snatched the shovel out of his hand and swung it at his head.

Ben tried to duck and caught it on the top of his head, sending him falling back against his garage with a loud thud.

"You think you can just fuck my wife and get away with it ************! Huh! What do you think I am, some kind of sissy faggot!? You think I suck cock!? I'm a real man! I'll crack your fucking head open if you ever come near her again!" I taunted him, screaming at the top of my lungs.
"Fuck you!" Ben indignantly spat. "Your wife's a fucking whore. You think I'm the only one in this neighborhood that's screwed your little fortune cookie?"

"What! Who!" I demanded to know. **** of a...ahhhh!" I cried out as Ben kicked me in the knee and dropped me to the ground.

I tried to get up but Ben was on top of me before I knew it, his hands around my neck. "You know what I think? You are a faggot! That's why you can't control your cunt wife! You ever come on my property again I'll crack your fucking head open!"

Ben got off of me and gave me a kick in the ribs for good measure as I tried to get up. Hunched over, I hurried back across the street to my home, crying like a little kid.

My pride was shattered.

Part 7 - The Transformation

I was applying bandages to several cuts on my legs that I'd gotten while shaving them, when the phone rang.

It was Ron. He told me to expect company within the hour. Before I could get him to explain, he hung up.

I went back to the bathroom and examined my now hairless body. My dick looked bigger now that it wasn't half covered by a hairy bush. "Honey, I shaved so I can look better in your panties. Oh, and by the way, I like sucking dick," I mocked myself explaining the change to DD.

I went into DD's underwear drawer to find a pair of panties to wear before Ron arrived. A turquoise thong was my selection. I marveled at how good the silky fabric felt against my smooth skin as I slid them on. And when I looked in the mirror I was surprised at how good I looked in them. With all of that hair gone, it wasn't such a hideous sight.

"This is so pathetic," I shamefully shook my head. "My wife is in a cheap motel somewhere getting stuffed full of black cock and I'm at home alone trying on her underwear."

I always felt sorry for the poor cuckolded bastards in Ron's stories. That was a big reason why I'd resigned the idea to remaining a fantasy – I didn't want to wind up feeling sorry for myself. Yet here I was, realizing the sad state of myself, but not feeling entirely as remorseful as I thought I should have.

When I closed my eyes I visualized my wife's naked body being mauled and used by her black lover and it pleased me. I'd given up resistance to my fantasy if for no other reason than sheer mental exhaustion from fighting it. Since I had no control over the situation anymore, it was easier to accept her deriving sexual pleasure at the hands of another man as a mutually gratifying experience for both of us.

Likewise, my resistance to Ron's dominance had waned. If I was the submissive he said I was, than so be it. I looked forward to his arrival, knowing I'd find myself once again on my knees, servicing his big cock with my mouth. Giving into it was so much easier than fighting it. No more fighting, just giving in. Let the cards fall where they may.

But then there were things nagging at my conscience. What was Kane doing with my wife when he wasn't fucking her? Holding her? Caressing her? Telling her sweet things? I didn't want to think about things like that, they devastated me, so I ignored them.

Looking at myself in the mirror was a chore. There stood a helpless man, if he was indeed still a man at all. Certainly he wasn't enough of a man to please his wife sexually, and not enough of one to defend her honor against the douche bag neighbor. He wore panties and he sucked the cock of a man who sought his wife as a sexual conquest. What man did those things? I didn't like thinking about those things either, so I didn't. It's ok, Tonya, you don't have to pretend to be the man you're not.

When the doorbell rang I threw on DD's fuzzy pink bathrobe to cover my near nudity before going to open the door. I couldn't wait to have my mouth filled with his cock again.

"Hello, Tonya."

I froze, stunned, as I took in the sight of a total stranger at my door.

"I'm a friend of Ron's," she said, stepping into my home without invitation.

"Oh, I, I thought Ron was coming. I wasn't expecting, um," I shut the door behind her.

"Charlotte," the red headed woman said, dropping the duffle bag from her shoulder and removing her long winter coat. "Hang my coat for me."

I stared at her blankly as I draped her coat over a hanger in the entry closet. Charlotte wore nothing but lingerie under her coat!

"I take it by that stupid look on your face that you like what you see," Charlotte said, gracefully tracing the contours of her body with her finger tips, inviting my eyes.

She was a slender woman only a few inches shorter than me in her high heels. Black thigh-high fishnets clung to her skinny legs and a long twisting serpent tattoo was visible underneath on her left thigh. Her hot pink thong outlined her camel toe and a dangling piece of jewelry hung from her flat, toned belly. A full sleeve of tattoos covered one arm, the other was nothing but pure, milky, alabaster skin. A cup less pink bra left her apple-sized tits hanging out, her nipples covered by dangly black tassels.

"Yes, I just, well, you're...wow...beautiful and, um, this is a total surprise to me is all, I um, I'm Tony," I felt my face reddening as I became keenly aware of what I was wearing. Having a sexy woman see me this way was utterly humiliating.

"Tony?" she smirked. "Don't you mean Tonya?"

I got a lump in my throat as my *********** heightened. "Um, Ron calls me that, I guess."

Charlotte laughed wickedly, "Awww, I bet you were looking forward to sucking his cock, weren't you?"

I said nothing, swallowing hard.

"Answer me when I ask you a question!" Charlotte demanded. "Are you embarrassed?"

I nodded. "This is, um, embarrassing, Charlotte."

"Don't be. He told me all about you, sissy girl. But we can have some fun too, can't we? I like girls like you, Tonya," Charlotte sported a wicked smile.

"Well I, uh, you do?"

She gave me the coyest of expressions, "You wanna fuck me? I bet you'd like that, huh?"

"I'm a, I'm married and everything, so I guess, maybe, I probably shouldn't," I stumbled over my words, my stiffening cock answering the question for me.

"But your wife is a whore isn't she? Isn't she somewhere getting pumped full of black cock right now? How come she gets to have all the fun, huh?" Charlotte lifted one of her breasts with her hand and crimped her neck to lick around the tassel.

I shrugged, staring in awe of her.

"So you really don't wanna fuck me?" Charlotte leaned in close, nuzzling her nose next to my ear, her sweet perfume invading my nostrils. "I know you have a pathetic little cock, but I'm a naughty little whore so I'm not picky," she whispered, untying my robe.

"This isn't happening," I breathed hard, "This stuff doesn't happen to me."

"It does when you have a powerful friend," she nibbled on my ear lobe, while reaching into my panties and squeezing my hard dick. "You can thank Ron later. So, would you like to fuck me?"

"Yesssssss," I breathed, feeling the testosterone coursing through my veins, feeling like a real man again in spite of myself. Me Tarzan, you Jane, my ****** instincts screamed.

"Tell me how bad you want me," she purred, kissing my neck, her tassels tickling my chest. .

"Very bad," I gulped.

"That's not very convincing," she said, pulling away from me. "If you really want my hot, tight, wet, pussy, you'll have to earn it. Are you willing to earn it, Tonya?"

I nodded before rolling my head back as she continued to stroke my cock, the name 'Tonya' striking a blow to my fragile feeling of manhood.

"You call this a cock?" she giggled, slapping my hard dick, making me jump, "I think it's a joke. You're going to really have to be a good girl if I'm going to give you any pleasure. I'm in charge here, understand?"

"Yes," I said, falling back into my submissive role, my Tarzan alter ego getting the wind knocked out of him by the ***********.

"You're gonna be my little bitch tonight, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm your little bitch," I said, half-enthusiastically.

Charlotte smiled, cupping her breasts in both hands. "Boy, you're easy. You deserve a treat. Bite my tassel."

"Bite it?"

"Bite it, sissy," she grabbed my head and pulled me to her breast. "Get those off of there so I can show you my pretty tits."

I grabbed her dangling tassel between my teeth and tugged it off, exposing her tiny, erect, pink nipple. I repeated with the other tassel, reveling in the sight of her soft, perky breasts.

"Mmmmm, that's much better, don't you think?" Charlotte said, massaging her nipples into an even more erect state. "Do you like my pretty little titties?"

"Oh yes!" I failed to play it cool, my eyes bulging. I hadn't seen a pair of naked tits live and in the flesh in months, and none other than DD's in years.

"Show me how much!" she said, ********** pulling my head into her breasts. "Worship them!"

I hungrily devoured her tit, sucking on it like I wanted to pull it off.

"Oh my, that's terrible!" she put her hand on my forehead and pushed me back. "Do you think a woman wants you eating her tits? The point is to make her feel good. Try again."

I suckled her breast into my mouth more gently this time.

"Yes, that's it. Suck harder now, and flick your tongue against my nipple," Charlotte instructed. "Oh yes, that's good, you just need a little training don't you? Do the other one now."

I left her left nipple hard and pointing as I moved to the other, following the same instructions as she slowly tugged on my throbbing cock.

"Mmmm, that's enough for you," she gripped a fist full of my hair and yanked my head back. "Now, get on your knees, bitch." Charlotte lightly slapped my face and pushed down on my head.

I went to my knees with my hair still in her clutches. She asked where the main bathroom was then walked me there on my hands and knees, never letting go of my hair, commenting on what a "dump" my house was. She instructed me to sit on the toilet seat while she pillaged through DD's make up case.

"I'm going to make you a pretty girl, Tonya," Charlotte cheerfully exclaimed as she produced a bottle of eyeliner. "Hold still."

Charlotte hummed and swung her hips as if dancing to her own song as she applied make up to my face, seeming amused with her new toy. "You're going to look so much hotter than my husband ever did in drag. You have such girly features," she commented.

Husband? I thought. She does this to her husband too? Was he also a...holy ****! My mind finally put the pieces together. "Charlotte!" I blurted out without meaning too.

"What?"

"Uh, nothing, sorry, I just thought you were going to poke my eye with that mascara," I lied.

"Relax, I've done this lots of times to my little sissy girl at home," she giggled.

I remembered the night I'd met Ron, how he'd talked about passing around a twenty something redhead with 'nice tits' between he and his friends with her husband on speakerphone. I now knew who that redhead was! I shuddered as I thought of DD being used in the same manner. But that wasn't all.

Until now it hadn't occurred to me, but Charlotte was the central character in one of his Literotica stories – and the vivid description he gave of that character matched her to the letter! He hadn't even changed her name! Fiction writer my ass, his stories were real!

One of the reasons I'd loved them so much was that in spite of the crazy and unthinkable circumstances the characters were always in, they always seemed so incredibly realistic. Even as he took his fictional liberties by writing from the point of view of the cuckolded husband, which he certainly was not, the characters emotions and thoughts resonated with me well.

Ron certainly understood the motivations of men like me, that was for sure, and his claim that he knew me better than I knew I myself suddenly had a lot of credibility. Would he one day be writing a true story about me and DD, expressing my thoughts and feelings in ways I couldn't?

I sat there quietly, realizing Ron's plans for me. Making me wear panties, calling me Tonya, making me shave, now he had this woman was putting make up on me. Ron was trying to take away every sign of my masculinity, but why?

I thought about the stories he wrote in which the cuckolded husband was always humiliated and often ****** into bisexual acts with the bull, even occasionally ****** to wear women's underwear, but this was going farther than anything he'd ever written.

I couldn't help but wonder if he planned on taking other things further to? Was his level of kink and perversion progressing in the same way mine always did? If so, then I couldn't lean on his stories as a guide for what to expect, I was traveling into the unknown. I didn't fear as much for what he had in store for me, as I did for what it might mean for DD.

The women in his stories were used hard, often degraded and put in situations even more humiliating than those of the husbands. In his writing, the women always enjoyed it, but I wondered if he knew the complexities of the female's minds as well as he did their husbands. If he did, and he truly had DD figured out the way he thought, then I wasn't sure how well I knew my wife at all. If he didn't, this could be a disaster.

"Well look at you!" Charlotte giggled, "Such a pretty little bitch!" She flashed a handheld mirror in front of me.

I couldn't believe my eyes. After applying nail polish, lipstick, eyeliner, mascara and eye shadow, I was unrecognizable. If I didn't know better I would have thought I was staring at a woman! The fact that my face passed so well for the opposite sex made me feel even less masculine than I already did, which wasn't much to begin with.

"I would curl your hair too and make you real pretty but it's just going to get messed up anyway," Charlotte couldn't wipe the smile from her face. "Come on bitch, let's find you something sexy to wear."

Again I was lead around by my hair on my hands and knees into the bedroom where she left me sitting on the floor while she rummaged through DD's dresser drawers.

"Hmmph, your wife seems pretty conservative if her underwear is any indication. Not at all the way Ron described her. Has this woman ever been to Frederick's in her life?" Charlotte laughed, staring at a very plain pair of cotton panties.

"She only has a handful of things that I'd call sexy. She doesn't really try that hard to be sexy. She's never needed too," I said.

"Awww, that's sweet," Charlotte said, leaving the dresser to search through the closet. "But I have different information from our friend. She may not try for you, but she is trying for someone, now isn't she?" Charlotte sounded colder, as if she wanted it to hurt.

"Can I ask you a question, Charlotte?"

"I guess," she answered from inside the closet.

"Have you ever read Ron's stories?"

"Sure."

"Have you read the one about you and your husband?"

Charlotte giggled, "Yeah, a few times."

"Is it all true?"

"Kind of, mostly, yeah, I guess."

"Really? You come across like a heartless bitch in that story, but you don't seem that bad," I noted Charlotte had barely stopped smiling or giggling the entire time she was there. "But it's all true, huh? You think he portrayed your husband accurately too?"

"Oh, I'm not heartless. Everything that he said happened did happen. And I guess my husband is like that now, maybe not when he wrote it though. Bingo!" Charlotte suddenly sounded cheerful.

"What do you mean not when he wrote it?" I asked.

"Ron taught my husband a lot of things he didn't know about himself. He made him come around."

"In the story your husband wanted you to ***** with other men, you're saying he didn't?"

Charlotte shrugged. "I don' know. Don't really care either. His pathetic little dick wasn't doing anything for me. I just went to get what I couldn't get at home. Then I met Ron and he convinced me to get my husband involved. He said he could make him ok with it. So of course I was like yeah, go ahead! Makes my life easier."

"And Ron did that, huh? He actually talked your husband into being ok with it?"

"Well, it's not like he had a choice! I mean, it's not like he would ever find someone as hot as me. He's fucking lucky I keep him around to give me money, take care of the house and worship at my feet," Charlotte said, with her ever present smile.

I was shocked by her coldhearted comments. "So...you don't even love him?"

Charlotte laughed, "Oh, I guess. You know, like how you love a puppy? Poor, pathetic, helpless little creatures but you can make them fetch and do tricks and stuff, you know?"

"I see." Hearing her talk about her husband like a pet made me wonder if DD could ever be that cold.

"Put these on, Tonya," Charlotte emerged from the closet and tossed several items at me.

I scanned the items, crotchless pink panties, a see through pink chemise, and a pair of pink thigh-high stockings with an attached garter-belt. "Where did you find these?" I said, shocked. I'd never seen them before and couldn't imagine DD wearing anything like that.

"Your wife obviously doesn't want you to know so I'm not telling!" Charlotte giggled. "Now hurry up and get dressed, bitch, so we can have some fun!"

Staring at Charlotte's tits and hearing the word fun simultaneously made me stiff again. I slid the silky stockings up my legs, amazed by how wonderful they felt against my now smooth skin. I quickly discarded the panties I was wearing and pulled up the garter followed by the panties and then slithered into the chemise.

"Stand up and let me look at you, Tonya," Charlotte instructed, leaning against the wall. "Turn around---Bend over---Shake your ass a little bit---Now spank it," Charlotte giggled each time I obeyed her humiliating commands. "Now bend over the bed, bitch."

I felt Charlotte behind me, slowly running her fingernails up the back of my legs before giving me a hard smack on the ass.

"I'm gonna teach you how to please a woman like the sissy girl you are. Would you like that?"

"I guess so," I said, wearily.

"You guess so? I don't like your passive attitude, Tonya. I want an enthusiastic submissive. I'm not going to let you fuck me if you don't be a good girl. Now answer me again, do you want me to teach you how to be a good sissy for your wife?"

"Yes, please, ma'am," I replied.

"Good. Now, to thank me properly for the lesson I'm going to give you, get on your fucking knees and kiss my feet!" Charlotte yanked my head back by the hair.

I spun around and fell to my hands and knees planting kisses on her stocking clad feet, thanking her repeatedly.

"Good girl. This is how you should thank your wife everyday for staying with a sissy like you. This is also how you should greet her when she comes home. And any time you want to show her affection, always start at her feet. Understand?" Charlotte walked to the bed and sat down.

"Yes ma'am," I replied.

"And whenever she sits down, offer to rub her feet," Charlotte dangled her foot in front of my face.

"Would you like me to rub your feet?"

"Yes, Tonya, carefully remove my shoes and rub my feet---Mmmmm, that's good. Be sure to kiss them a lot while you rub them to show how much you enjoy serving her---There you go. And it's always nice if you do a little toe sucking."

"Shouldn't I take your stockings off first?" I asked as Charlotte pressed her foot against my lips.

"You don't ask questions, you just do what you're told. If she doesn't ask you to, then leave them on. Now suck my toes," Charlotte ****** them into my mouth. "Ohhhhh that's good, Tonya! I just love having a sissy girl to worship my feet. How much of my foot can fit you in your mouth?"

I wondered if Charlotte would ever get tired of having her feet worshiped. Her reactions to it were orgasmic. Her pale skinny frame would twist and writhe as I sucked her toes. She'd giggle and moan and her nipples stood on end as she pinched them. The fabric of her skimpy thong was noticeably wet in the middle.

I hadn't minded it at first, it was something new to me and the pleasure it gave her aroused me, as did the submissiveness of the act. But my mouth began to tire as she insisted on ******* as much of her foot would fit into my mouth. It seemed like I'd sucked, licked, kissed and rubbed her shapely feet for an hour or more by the time she put them back on the ground.

"You don't need any more training at that, you're an absolutely wonderful toe sucker," Charlotte giggled. "Now this next lesson is very important," she said, sliding out of her panties, "Since you don't have a real cock to please a woman you need to be very good with your mouth."

I knew what she meant as she parted her legs wide, inviting me to her shaved pussy.

"Ron left a nice surprise for you in there, sissy," Charlotte smirked as she wrapped her legs around my neck and ****** my face into the creamy mess that oozed from her pussy. "A good sissy has to know how to clean up after his wife's lover."

I shuddered as the taste of Ron's salty cum, mixed with the taste of her sour cunt hit my tongue. Imagining my sweet little DD having her pretty Asian snatch filled with another man's jizz excited me and scared me at the same time, as I wondered if she'd really do something as reckless as having unprotected sex with someone else.

"Yes, that's it, bitch, clean my fucking hole!" Charlotte growled. "Get your tongue in there, all the way. Yesssss, just like that," she instructed, "You better do a good job and get all of that seed out of there, I don't want to get pregnant again!"

"Wha!?" I gasped, shocked by her words, as my tongue vigorously licked the goo from her inner walls.

"My sissy didn't do a good job at first. Now we have two kids. Does DD want kids? Because if she does, just keep on doing the half-assed job that you're doing now!" Charlotte hissed.

Even as I strained my tongue to reach as far inside of her hot pussy as I could, my fearful eyes locked on hers. She had to be kidding. Creampie-eating as a form of birth control? That was insane!

Charlotte smiled as though she could read my mind. "Ooooh, Tonya, you've got that tongue so far inside of me! You really don't want your little Asian slut to have Ron's babies, do you? If you learn to get every drop, maybe you'll get lucky...but I doubt it."

Charlotte pushed my head away with her foot and excused herself for a moment.

Goose bumps consumed my flesh as I imagined DD pregnant...pregnant by someone else. It was crazy, almost unfathomable to think such a thought. And the level of depravity of this woman, and of Ron, if these things were true, should have sent me running right then and there.

But like a moth to the flame, that dark side of me - the perverted, lusty, illogical, uncontrollable inner beast - needed to touch the fire to know it was hot.

Besides that, things had gone farther than I'd ever imagined they could, and now I wasn't sure I could find my way back to a sane, quiet, normal life even if I wanted too, and at times, I was feeling like I definitely wanted to.

Constantly I had to remind myself that I'd already relinquished control of my marriage to Ron, an increasingly unsettling thought. Thanks to my carelessness, Ron had DD's ear, and his uncanny powers of persuasion had already sent her down a path that I wasn't sure she'd ever some back from. We had problems, but I wondered - if I'd never sent that first e-mail to Ron, would she have stayed true? Or was this truly all my fault?

I tried to focus on the bright side, if there was one. Life had gone from being painfully boring and redundant, to being a roller coaster with no brakes in almost no time flat. There was a feeling of impending doom that I sensed for my marriage. Surely this roller coaster would derail eventually, but the blind folded ride I was on had me feeling more alive than I'd felt in recent memory.

Lost in thought, I wasn't fully aware of my surroundings until I felt the cold metal clasp around my wrists. Snapping out of my trance, I found my hands cuffed behind back.

"Look what I found." Charlotte appeared in front of me, a large dildo in her hand. "Wow, your wife really does like them big," she said, admiring it's size. "Show me how you like to suck cock, sissy boy," Charlotte gripped my hair firmly and pressed it into my mouth.

I wondered, where the hell had DD been hiding all these things! It occurred to me that since I'd always seen her as prude and frigid, I'd never really thought to look for anything like this.

My cock stiffened as I tried to imagine my sexy wife playing with the over sized toy. I wondered what she did with it, aside from the obvious. Did she ever put it in her mouth? That thought turned me on even more than the idea of her putting it in her pussy. Did DD love to suck cock so much that she would actually wrap her soft lips around this beast and imagine sucking on a real one? Did she gag herself with it? Did she fuck herself hard and think about Ron? I realized I could fill a 'war and peace' length novel with the things I didn't know about my wife.

One thing was for certain; the toy hadn't been cleaned since it's last use. The taste of DD's pussy was giving me a thrill as I sucked on the rubber cock for Charlotte's amusement.

The realization that I wasn't making any effort to hide my new-found lust for sucking cock, humiliated and aroused me even further. Charlotte's perpetual grin showed amazement and approval.

"Ron sure made quick work of you. It took months for him turn my sissy boy into a cock craving, sissy faggot like you," she commented, icily. "Come on now, up you go, bitch," she patted the bed.

Again, Charlotte clutched a fist full of my hair and led me up onto my marriage bed. She ********** pushed my face down into the pillows, pulled my panties to the side and gave me a firm swat across my bare ass. "Are you ready to know what a nice big cock feels like in that tight little pussy?"

My eyes got big as I whimpered, "Charlotte, I don't think I can handle that. Please don't," I helplessly wiggled as I felt her spit on my puckered hole and rub it in with the tip of the dildo.

"Yes you can, and you will. No whining, bitch," Charlotte slapped my ass again.

"Charlotte, I'm serious!" I insisted, even as I felt her pressing hard against my hole.

"Shut the fuck up, sissy!" Charlotte snatched her panties, balled them up and shoved them into my mouth. "You're gonna be a good slut, just like your wife, and take this big cock in your pussy!"

My muffled protests had no effect as she finally worked the tip of it inside of me. Another stinging slap across my ass distracted me from one painful sensation to another. "This is much easier if you relax," Charlotte commented.

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that!" I incoherently exclaimed, with my mouth stuffed full of her panties.

"Just like that. Oh yes, there you go, there you go, take it bitch. Take this cock," Charlotte hissed, as she worked it deep into my ass.

"Oh fuck," I groaned, as she fucked me. My cock stiffened to rock hardness, betraying my protests as she drilled me.

The mixture of pain versus strange pleasure was overloading my senses. I couldn't decide if I loved this or hated it, in many ways, it was both. Not that it mattered, Charlotte was in control, and she was not going to stop fucking me in my ass, or my 'pussy' as she kept on referring to it.

Before I even knew what to make of the situation, my world stopped in an instant, and heart fell into my feet.

"I am not, fucking, seeing this," were the words she spoke.

To open my eyes and see my wife standing in the doorway of our bedroom at that moment was by far the worst possible feeling I could have ever felt.

DD's silky stockings were clinging to my legs, her garter belt chaffing my hips, her panties pressing against my stiff cock, and her lacy chemise was snugly around my torso. Her make up dolled-up my face, her lipstick was smeared across my lips as well as Charlottes toes and pussy, and this strange woman – who's panties were in my mouth - was behind me, shoving what may have been my wife's favorite toy, up my ass, mercilessly, making me moan, and there was DD to witness it all.

I could only imagine what went through her mind at that moment. Her eyes were racing, taking it all in, but showed no emotion that I could read.

I wished Charlotte would produce a gun, put it to my head and pull the trigger. But she didn't so much as stop fucking my ass at the sight of my wife. "You must be DD," Charlotte said easily, giving my reddened ass another hard slap.

DD started to speak, then stopped. Suddenly she laughed, putting her hand over her mouth, "Oh my fucking goodness," she cackled. And even as she laughed, I watched tears form in her eyes. Her soft cackling stopped on a dime and turned into what I thought was a sob, as she threw her hands up wildly in bewilderment. "I don't even know...I mean...how...what..." DD paused, and squinted at me, making her pretty slanted eyes appear as if not even open. But I knew she was looking at me, looking through me in fact - burning a hole in me with that stare.

"You must have known about him," Charlotte commented, giving my ass a few hard thrusts with the dildo. "I hardly believe the surprise on your face. Deep down, you always knew what kind of girl you married."

I couldn't believe what was coming out of Charlotte's mouth. If my hands had been free, I may have ****** her. I was mortified.

"Girl?" DD gave me a once over and shook her head as she wiped her tars. "I can't deal with this right now. I..." DD paused again and stared blankly. I could see her breathing rapidly, almost as if she might hyperventilate. Without another word, DD turned and walked out of the room.

"Stop!" I groaned through Charlotte's damp panties, as she continued to fuck me as though nothing had even happened. I heard the front door slam, and then the engine of DD's car starting.

"She had to deal with it eventually. You are what you are, bitch. Don't worry, Ron has it all under control," Charlotte said, with no hint of concern. She reached around and grabbed my dick and began to stroke it as she fuck me.

Great, I thought, Ron has it under control. He certainly did. That was the problem.

The hyperlink is visible to registered members only!


Introducing: Black Master Olu

Olu Sango took a moment's glance at the visa papers of the white couple seated across his desk from him and smiled to himself. There's a fool born every minute, and by God, he'd just found another.

The couple sat contentedly before him; he offered them tea and biscuits early and even allowed the husband the chance to smoke a cigarette, anything just to calm whatever fears they might be having whenever it comes to travelling to any foreign country, and in this case, an African one. He'd made casual conversation with them and wasn't surprised to hear the hubby explain that this would be their first trip to any African nation. And why was that possible? He'd just been offered a contract job with a thriving oil company located in Nigeria, but more than that, it was a first-time experience for both of them and they couldn't wait to start living it. Olu couldn't help but share their enthusiasm about this, although unbeknownst to the white couple, his reason was for something entirely different from where their thoughts were heading. Oh sure, he would make damn sure they enjoy their stay in Africa ... most especially the Mrs.

While Arnold Coltrane was a slim, average-tall man in his latte forties, possessing sandy-colored hair that were already starting to turn grey, his wife, Becca, was a robust, light-blonde beauty. Olu was moved by the sight of her tits which although sagging from behind her blouse, seemed to want to push out and hug the air before them. She's got some natural hips too, he thought to himself, and her ass looks like it's begging for something black and strong. He sure couldn't wait to get her pert-shaped lips acquainted with his 9-inch superior black pounder.

But he had a plan, and such was what he was about to enact.

The couple had gotten a temporary visa at the Nigerian London office a day before they boarded their Virgin flight plane that brought them here to the state capital. Arnold's company office was well aware of his need to get a working two-week visa permit and thus had furnished him with Olu's telephone number as well as four day's period so as to get his papers intact. Olu couldn't have been happier when he got the call the previous day and after taking note that the couple were cooling off at a suite in the Nicon-Noga Hilton hotel had arranged today's meeting so as to get a better look at what he had to work with. While he'd made light humor and conversation with the couple and then offered them tea, he'd excused himself and gone to a side office and instructed two state security officers, loyal men whom he often used for such clandestine operations, and gave them the go-ahead to do what needed to be done. He needn't instruct them on what to do, as they were well familiar with this type of work. By the time he returned to seat with the couple, handing them documented embassy papers for them state their vital and personal infos, his boys were climbing into their nondescript vehicle and driving out of the embassy's gate. It was a twenty minute drive to the hotel, but the officers turned on their siren and broke through the city's traffic easily and stepped on the gear, cutting the journey in half.

Another fifteen minutes later and Olu was seeing the couple out of his office. By now they were acting jovial in each other's company as if he were an old friends; such was the charm he exerted whenever he was meeting couples for the first time. The company's expatriate worker who'd furnished Arnold with Olu's number had stated that Olu was someone who knew just how well to cut through all the bureaucratic red-tape nonsense he was bound to encounter once he arrived at the embassy. Arnold evidently felt happy with the way things were going as he led his wife down the embassy's front steps and then got into their waiting vehicle. Olu waved at them as the gates came open for them and then drove into the city's pestering traffic. Some minutes later the two officers reported to him at his office.

"It's done, sir," the most senior said.

"No one at the lobby asked any questions?" he asked.

"None, sir. We didn't announce our actual intention, and swore the Manager not to reveal anything."

"And you deposited the package where neither will find it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very good." He opened one of his desk drawers and took out a bundle of money which he gave to the security men to divide amongst themselves. They smiled, saluted him, and then left his office. It was only then Olu allowed himself to lean his head back and laugh.

Everything was going exactly as planned. By this time tomorrow, he would have the couple feeding off from the palm of his hand. He couldn't wait for that moment to come through.

There was a Virgins-Nigeria local flight leaving at 10:00a.m the following morning from Abuja to Port Harcourt, which was Arnold's destination. At 8:35a.m that morning, he and Becca, his wife, checked out of their hotel suite and flagged a taxi to take them to the airport. Olu had called him the previous evening to reassure him that his working papers would be made ready for him by the following week, that it would be mailed to his company's Port Harcourt office signed and delivered, and Arnold had nothing more to worry about.

His worries actually began than morning at 9:22a.m, right after he and Becca had checked in their bags and were strolling towards the boarding ramp. They got stopped by two security officials, the same officers whom Olu had sent the previous day to do his dirty work, though the couple were unaware of who they were. Both men this time were dressed officiously in gabardine uniform, both sporting stern, no-nonsense outlook on their faces. One of them presented the stunned couple with their state security badges and informed them that one of their bags had sounded a red flag just as it was being cleared through the Customs section. As they were talking, several patrol officers swarmed into the lounge; one of them trailing a hungry-looking German Shepard while another held an automatic rifle in both hands. Other commuters who stood were there to make other impending flights suddenly started making themselves scare from the vicinity. The unlucky foreign couple were unaware of how state security officials this part of the world tended to operate; when it involved hard ***** or anything illegal, they seldom fuck around.

"We will have to check through the contents of your bag," one of the security men stated to the still dumb-looking couple. "Hope it's all right with both of you."

Becca turned a fearful look at her husband. "My God, Arnold, what could they possibly want¬—"

"It's okay, darling. Let's just let the fine officers do their job. I'm sure it's just some false alarm or something," her husband tried calming her, though he too was just as nervous and worried as she.

Their bags were laid out on the floor unopened, and the dog began sniffing its nose one at a time. By now a murmuring crowd was drawing towards the plight of the white couple, both of whom stood between the two security men, observing with numbing surprise what level of mistreatment was being enacted upon their luggage.

One of the patrol men turned over one of the large bags on its side to enable the Shepard dog to run its nose down the bag's side pockets. It was at that moment the dog retreated and made first a growling sound, followed by a string of wild barks. The sound of its barks unnerved the couple and Arnold had to ask one of the security men what the dog's barking signified. The security men indicated for two other patrol men to pick up the bag and then they led the way towards a back doorway with the couple in tow.

The door gave way to a narrow corridor and immediately as the door from which they'd entered closed behind them, the harsh sounds of the airport virtually died away. Becca was about enquiring where they were being taken to, or rather what was happening, when they made a left turn, and then one of the security men pushed open a door and indicated for both of them to step inside. The square-foot room was small, the walls were painted light brown, and except for a window that was enclosed behind a mesh, all the room boasted of was a table that took up nearly half the room's space, with two chairs on one side and a single one positioned at the other. The scene looked like something that had been well rehearsed time and time again, though aside from the two security men, the couples have always been different. But they, along with their boss, knew already how this scene usually always played out. Not once had the plot failed.

The couple sat on the two chairs just as the patrol officers dropped the bag on the table and then took their leave. One of the security men positioned himself by the door, having turned the lock, while the couple watched apprehensively as his colleague wore on a pair of surgical hand gloves. Above their heads, a CCTV camera watched the live action, transmitting the feed to a video monitor in a room located down the corridor from where they were. Olu sat with a video technician whose duty it was to record the proceedings. Both their eyes were trained on the TV screen in front of them which was filming the security official as he opened the suspected luggage and began unearthing its contents on the table while Arnold and his wife watched on in silence.

The security man was meticulous and patient with the way he emptied the bag of every item that was inside. It was part of the plan to keep the couple of edge was they watched what was ongoing, though they wished he would hurry as Arnold kept glancing at his wristwatch and dismally noting how near the time for their flight boarding was approaching. When he was done with the inner contents, the security man turned his focus to the side pockets of which the content inside the dog had been barking about. There were few items there: dispensable razors, a pack of handkerchiefs, two ball-points pen ... and then there was a small black pouch bag. The couple's eyes both set on this as the security man dropped it carefully on the table before them as if it contained an explosive.

Quickly the husband was the first to declare: "Whatever that is, it's not mine. I've never seen that before."

"Nor I," Becca too stated.

The security man didn't bother taking notice of their words as he gently opened the pouch bag and emptied its contents on the table in front of them. The couple's eyes both seemed to grow wide at the same time and their lips uttered gasps of surprise as they took in the little mountain hill of white power that was cocaine pouring out of the bag.

"Does this," the state security man waved his hand at the mountain of pure cocaine displayed on the table, though his eyes switched back and forth to either couple, "belong to either of you?"

"That's not mine!" Arnold was now in a rage, having noted that they'd missed their flight, and raised his voice at him, and then slapped his palm in frustration on the table's edge. "I don't know where you got that fucking thing from, but that **** wasn't in my bag when he got here!"

"That's true, officer," his wife said in support.

"You both ought to know, neither of you are the first caught bringing in this stuff into the country," the officer went on, totally impervious to Arnold's diatribe. Both officers have seen it before and knew how to handle it whenever such instances arose; it was all part of the scripted plot: first to arouse anger, and then to break their will totally.

"This is some serious crime you both are into," he politely continued. "The chances of either of you coming out of this clean are very slim, and damaging. However, my colleague and I can turn a blind eye, as you both are new to the country, though we'd very much like for your co-operation in this¬—"

"Listen to me, you stupid fucker," Arnold pushed his chair back, rose to his feet and leaned his now red face towards the security officer. "I've had just about ****** enough of you and your bull****. I've already told you, that fucking coke ain't mine, or my wife's. We don't use that crap! And that's all there is I'm going to say. Now, I want you and your friend over there to let us the fuck out of here and let me talk to someone that's got more brains that yo¬¬—"

He was aiming a finger at the officer's chest while he spat his anger. Olu, watching what was happening through the TV screen, shook his head and smiled. Big mistake, Arnold, he said to himself.

It was here the plot turned serious. The security officer grabbed hold of Arnold's pointing finger and gave it a sharp twist. Arnold's brow concocted into a mask of pain a second before he let go a screeching wail. The officer held his palm upside down and slammed it hard on the table next to the small mountain of cocaine; Arnold let forth another high scream. His wife got up, wanting to cry out too, but the officer gave her a severe look and yelled at her to shut up. Becca did that instantly; her lips trembled with fear.

The officer leaned his face towards Arnold's and said to him: "Don't you ever raise your voice at me, mister. And don't you ever in your life point your finger at me, or I'll get a machete and cut this hand of your off and feed it to our security dogs outside. Do you understand me?"

For emphasis, he gave his hand another deft twist; Arnold got the message and immediately apologized.

Olu knew that was his cue. He took with him a file folder and exited the video room and strolled down to where the interrogation was taking place. The officer standing by the door knew he was the one from the light tap he gave the door and the man unlocked the door, saluted, and then stepped aside for him to make his entrance. Olu returned the officer's salute and then turned an angry eye towards the scene before him. Arnold returned to his chair, hugging his hand, still muttering his hurt from the pain, even as his wife showed some relief at Olu's arrival. The other officer quickly let go of Arnold's hand and saluted his boss—this was the next phase of the plot.

"Exactly what has been going on in here, officer?" he blazed with feigned anger at the officer and began hurling ****** at him in Yoruba language. "I gave instructions that neither of them was to be touched until I got here..." he went on chiding the officer before instructing both of them to vanish from his sight. "I'll deal with the both of you later," he said to them as they walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.

"I'm so terribly sorry for what that officer did to you," the look on his face suggested to the couple that he sincerely meant that. "Please accept my apologies."

"Those men are nothing but filthy ********" said Becca, still tending to her husband's hand.

"Without a doubt," Olu replied. "And I'll make sure they get absolutely what's coming to them. However, this changes a lot of things." He unbuttoned his suit as he sat down on the chair across from the couple. He related to them how he'd hurried all the way down here after receiving a call from one of his colleagues down at the airport of the white couple who'd just been arrested. And now with this business of cocaine," he shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid that things have suddenly turned ugly for the both of you."

For the next thirty-plus minutes they argued, harangued, and counter-argued with him, but all to no avail. Olu was well aware of Nigeria's current policy regarding cocaine smuggling, and was happy to make them aware of the enormousness of their problems.

"I'm going to be as totally honest as I can. You're both looking at five-seven years for possession with possible intent to distribute. It doesn't matter how well or how much you plead the case," he told them matter-of-factly. "The fact that the **** was found in your bag, in your possession, makes it even more incriminating. I'm not here trying to point fingers, mind you. I don't know if the **** is yours or not, just letting you know the facts, and right now, the facts speak a lot that isn't good. That's just about all that's required for the judge to make a conviction, and even your embassy people too will go along with it, no matter how much you try to appeal. I'm sorry, but that's just how it is."

The news shocked and devastated the couple almost at once; the fiery anger had left Arnold's eyes and all that was there was a crestfallen sigh. Olu waited for them to say something. If neither of them did, then he would have to be the one to ask the question. Fortunately for him, the wife did just that.

"But please, isn't there something ... anything that you can do to help us?" she looked at him pleadingly. She reached over for his arm. "Please, Olu. If there's anything we can do to ..."

Olu felt like congratulating himself at that moment, though his face remained concerned to their plight. This is just too easy, he thought to himself.

"Well ... there possibly is something ..." he paused when he saw the light returning to the couple's eyes.

"Yes, what? Please tell us," the wife urged him.

"I really don't know if you'll both agree to it. But right now I can say it's the only thing that will help. It's nothing illegal, and it doesn't involve money on anyone's part. Still, I don't know if I should—"

"Please, tell us," said Arnold, now a cowered and humble man. "Whatever it is, Becca and I will try to agree with it."

Olu gave them a curious look. "You both willing to try? Absolutely willing to hear what it is I have to say?"

They nodded their heads almost simultaneously. "Yes, absolutely," said Becca.

Olu fell silent for a moment, then smiled and said: "Alright. Don't worry, I know it's something you'll both thank me for afterwards." He opened the file folder he'd brought along with him and took out a sheath of paper that was inside it. "First, I'll need both of you to look through this agreement. After which I'd like for you, Arnold, to sign it."

Olu sat there patiently and watched the movement of their eyes as husband and wife read through the contents of the document. He played with his silk tie, glanced at his fingernails and drummed them lightly on the table's surface, playing a familiar tune in the back of his mind while they went on reading. This was the climax of the plot—the moment he'd been so much waiting for. He noticed the gleaming look in the couple's eyes as both of them paused in their reading to look at each other, then turn their eyes to look at him as if surprised he was still seated there in their midst. Olu flashed them a grin and indicated for them to continue reading, which they very much did.

The husband was the first to react, pushing himself away from the document and shaking his head emphatically like a *****. "No. no ... I won't ... I won't sign for this. No way!"

Becca went on reading through the fine-print before looking up at Olu with surprise in her eyes. "You can't be serious?"

"Oh. But I am serious," Olu adjusted himself in his chair, resting his arms on the table. "I'm very, very serious. And I think both you and Arnold should take my offer quite seriously, as this is the only offer you're both going to get from staying away from our prison."

Becca seemed to jump at the mention of the word 'prison'. Arnold was becoming defiant once more.

"What exactly are you, Mr. Sango¬?" he asked. You a slave merchant or something?"

Olu couldn't help but laugh. "Please, Arnold, it's Olu. And in answer to your question, no, I'm no slave merchant. I do however have an eye for your lovely wife here, and I would like very much to keep her company while you'll be on your way to Port Harcourt. She will be my sex slave for the duration of your time spent within my country, to fuck and to get fucked in whichever way that I so well please. The document in your hand is merely a contract bind just to make sure the three of us have an equal understanding of what's at stake here."

"And what happens if we refuse to sign?"

Olu made as if it was no big deal to him, which in a way it really wasn't—the hubbies are the ones always wanting to have a fighting chance like they think this was a game they could win.

"Nothing serious, except that our friendship turns sour right this minute. I'll pack up my stuff and go away and both of you will never hear from me ever again." He cocked a thumb at the door and continued, "those two gorillas will return back in here to claim your stuff and have you both transported to the state CID office, where you'll both be arraigned first thing tomorrow morning under charges of **** possession, with possible intention to distribute, as I mentioned earlier. Your country's embassy files appeal after appeal, but neither of which is going to help your case any more than the Chief Prosecutor is just going to be happy to throw the book at you ... after he's listened to the sworn testimonies of the arresting security officers who will further attest to your trying to argue with him. Then, my guess it's straight to jail for the next five-seven years of your lives. Have you ever been to one of my country's jails before, Arnold? Trust me, it's like a weekend in hell. Except this will be one weekend the both of you are going to regret."

The shock was in their eyes. Becca listened attentively to his words and grasped her husband's hand, both of them shaking with fear.

"But neither of this has to happen," Olu went on. "We can still remain friends; right now, I desire nothing more than to still be your friend. All you have to do is sign that piece of paper—I'll make you a copy—and then everything goes away: the cocaine, the embarrassment at the airport, the jail term, everything. Becca will stay in my care, and I promise she'll be well taken care of. Not a single dose of hurt will come to her skin."

"We can have your word on that?" asked Becca uncertainly.

"Like it was written in stone, you will," came his reply. "This is strictly between the three of us. No one will ever know, not even your husband's employers, whom I reckon won't be anywhere near happy if by chance they do."

She shared a look with her husband. They both seemed to communicate without expressing it in words. After a moment she nodded her head, and then Arnold sighed with resignation, his face weary with tiredness—this was a nightmare he truly wanted to get out of. And he realised he couldn't afford to lose his job if the oil company found out about this, neither would he wish to spend a minute, much less a second, lock up in a foreign country's jail. He picked up the document and looked back at Olu with a strained smile on his lips.

"You got a pen?"

Olu smiled back at him as he reached into his jacket pocket for his pen.

Victory at last!

The couple stepped out of the room half an hour later as different people. Upon signing the document, Olu summoned back the security men and spoke to them still in Yoruba to clear up the cocaine, repack the couple's bags, and make sure the husband gets on the next available flight to Port Harcourt as soon as possible. He excused himself for a moment and returned to the video room to claim the recorded tape as well as settle the technician with a bundle of Naira before returning to the couple and escorting them out of that vicinity of the airport.

The next scheduled flight to Port Harcourt wasn't leaving till two and a half hour's time. Olu basked in happiness as it afforded him enough time to insert himself into the couple's presence. He booked Arnold a ticket and then steered them towards a cafeteria, wanting to buy them an early lunch. He told Becca to sit beside him, as she was now his designated property, she was deemed to obey his every instruction and never to ask questions or look at her husband for soliciting help. He chatted with them as if nothing had even happened the past hour or so, and they too tried to keep up appearances. When they were done, he told them to come with him to the car, that there was something he very much would like for them to see. He told them not to bother worrying about their luggage, as the two security men would make sure nothing happens to them.

Into his BMW they went with Becca sitting beside him while Arnold sat alone in the back. Being a top career diplomat, Olu was designated a driver, however because of his mission for today, he'd given his driver the day off. He entered the teeming city traffic and drove them in the direction of the area known as Miatama District, located in the heart of the federal capital, where a majority of government officials and politicians had their homes. Olu drove his car into one of such lavish homes. The large gate came open and then he drove in, circling the round driveway that cut through a well kept lawn till coming to a stop a few feet from the glass door of the mansion. Becca and Arnold came down from the vehicle, taking in the lovely sight of the house and wondered on whose pay was he able to afford such an impressive structure. Neither of them bothered to ask the most important question—what exactly where they doing here?

Olu led them into his abode, and from there up the stairs and into his large bedroom.

He told Becca to sit on the bed while Arnold he indicated a chair by the other side of the room, and they both watched as first he took of his jacket and shoes, and then began unbuttoning his shirt. There was a state-of-the-art stereo and DVD system on a cabinet facing the king-sized bed, above which stood a wide-screen LCD TV. Olu finished removing his clothes till he was standing in the middle of the room in his boxer shorts. Both Becca and Arnold's eyes though were embarrassingly fixated on the ample jutting of his erection from behind his boxer shorts, as it strained through the fabric like the world's strongest tent pole. Olu noticed their eyes ogling him and it brought a smile to his lips. He thought he would play with them for a while before deciding to whip out his hot rod. He picked up a large remote from the bed and aimed it at the DVD and stereo system. At first music began to play—Barry White crooning for a woman to practice what she preaches—and then the DVD system came to life, followed by the TV screen. There was a portable web camera resting on the top of the stereo set, and when Olu pressed another button, the camera immediately turned on and it presented its picture on the TV screen, showing Olu standing there in front of the bed, along with Arnold's wife where she sat with her legs clumped together like a school girl.

"Oh my," Becca gasped. Neither she nor her husband was expecting to see that.

Olu turned to her and smiled. "You like what you see, Becca? I'll bet you do, though I'll bet you even more that the picture looks better when you're close to it. How about you bring yourself right now to me. it's high time I get a first taste of what you're made of." He licked his tongue over his lips.

Becca glanced at her husband, afraid of what was about to happen.

"Don't worry about Arnold watching; he's going to be a good boy. It's why I want him to sit in on this." He turned to glare at her husband. "You are going to be good, aren't you, Arnold?" it sounded more like a statement than a question.

Arnold nodded his head in utter defeatism; he resembled a shadow of his former self.

"That's a good boy." He turned back at Becca and waved a finger at her, his voice turned seductive. "Come over here, Becca. Don't be shy—I swear I won't bite."

Becca got up from the bed and slowly approached him. Olu leaned his face over the side of her neck and breathed in her musky-scented perfume. He pulled her body towards his and kissed her shoulder. Becca gasped when she felt his hand slid down her skirt to cup her ample butt. Her breasts now were pressing against his chest hard; she too brought her hands to his back and flinched when she felt his erection touch her abdomen. Olu kissed her neck all the way to her ear lobe while his hands went on squeezing the round, soft flesh that was her ass. Becca couldn't stop herself from not responding to the effect of his kisses; she looked at the lonely figure that was her husband seated a few feet from them and then shut her eyes. Olu brought his lips to hers and within seconds his tongue slid into her mouth, smacking her lips in a kiss. Becca felt suddenly light-headed. Never had she made love to a black man before, neither if she could remember ever speculating about it had she ever thought she would have to travel thousands of miles to the heart of Africa before she could get a taste of one. Yet here it was happening to her, and though she couldn't lie to herself¬—a part of her was beginning to enjoy the feeling.

Her hands felt over his body while they kissed. One of it slid downward into his shorts to cup his erection. It was at that moment she got another awaiting surprise. The surprise this time was so immediate she pulled her lips off Olu's and pushed down his boxers to get a good look at what he was packing.

"Oh my God!" she gasped at the enormity of his thick black cock. Never had she glimpsed a cock this big, and it took her a moment to get her mind settled over it. "Arnold, look at this!"

"Yeah, Arnold, come look at what your wife here just found out," he laughed harshly as Arnold half rose from where he sat and his mouth too came unhinged when he got a good view of the size of the diplomat's cock.

Olu winked at his wife and said: "I'll bet Arnold's tiny pecker is nothing compared to this, right?"

"Truly, no," Becca said it before she even realized she had, and then felt immediately embarrassed for having admitted the truth. "Is this cock for real?"

He looked at her as if she were dumb. "Of course it's real, you stupid bitch! You're holding it in your hand, aren't you?"

Indeed she was, and stroking it too. Feeling her hand slid back and forth over its membranous skin as a dose of pre-cum juice poured out of its purple-colored head. Her body was already starting to react towards the sight of the black cock, so too was her pussy which she felt was already getting her cunt lips wet with excitement.

"Well, don't stand there looking too long at it, bitch," he barked at her. Becca cried as he roughly grabbed the back of her hair and bent her down towards his abdomen. "Put your mouth on get to work, bitch! Time's a-wasting, and I've got other stuff to do."

Becca held unto his waist while his cock dangled and smacked her face; her nostrils inhaled its enticing scent. She wrapped her lips around the bulging purple head of his cock and gradually took half of him into her mouth. Olu went on ******* her head on him, wanting her to take as much of his cock as she could, while his other hand pulled up her skirt and began roughly finger-fucking her wet cunt. Becca made grunting sounds down in her throat as Olu kept her ******* hard on his shaft; lines of saliva dropped from her mouth while she gagged on him. Arnold sat there and watched in horror at the service his once humble wife was performing for a black stranger.

"Yeah," Olu murmured. "That's how you suck a black cock. Ohhh yeah ... that's it, bitch, suck that cock like you want it. As you're going to be my sex slave, and me being your slave master, I'm going to teach you all about handling black cock. Go on, get down on your knees and keep sucking me."

Becca did as told, knelt before him, and now wrapped both hands around his shaft and went on sucking him. Olu kept sweeping back her lock of blond hair that kept falling down from her face. Becca had begun applying some vigor to her work, ******* her jaw to open wide enough to take in more and more of Olu's cock, pausing now and then to slobber and lick the length of his shaft before popping his cock back into her mouth.

"You enjoying yourself, Becca?" he asked her. "You loving that black cock?"

"Oh yes, Olu," she gasped with excitement. "I'm really loving it!"

Olu growled at her: "Bitch! Don't you ever call me by my name!" he bent her over and gave her ass a good smack, making her howl, then he pulled her head up and gazed angrily into her eyes. "From now on, you and your man will both address me as Sango, your black master. Got that, bitch!"

"Yes!" Becca cried out. "Yes, I've got it!"

Arnold then made an attempt to rise. "Now hold on here, Olu, this has gone way too—"

Olu left Becca and stumped towards him. Without a word, pulled Arnold up by his shirt collar and drove a fist into his abdomen. Arnold gave a loud grunt and fell to the floor, hugging the spot where he'd just been punched. Olu pulled him to his feet and dropped him back on his chair. He looked at him like one would look at an insect before squashing it.

"Don't you dare interrupt my lesson, Arnold," he said to him coldly. "Ever again, don't you dare do that. And the next time you refer to me by anything other than the name I just gave you, our deal is off and you and your wife here will rot in my prison. And I'll see to it that your ass and hers gets beaten and gang-raped on a steady basis every week. Do you get me, white boy?"

"Yes ... yes ... I do," Arnold answered between moans, still clutching his stomach.

"Yes, what?"

Arnold got the hint. "Yes, I do, Sango. My black master."

The scowl that was on Olu's face instantly vanished when Arnold said what he'd wanted to hear, bringing the smile back to his face. "Good. That's very good what you said. You're learning quickly, white boy. Now, where was I? Ah, yes!" he returned to where Becca was still kneeling for his return. Surprisingly, his cock was still as hard. She stroked it before reintroducing it back into her mouth.

"Yeah ... that's a good bitch. You and your man are going to learn how to respect black cock from now on." Then he looked up at Arnold. "Matter of fact, why don't you bring your white boy ass over here and show us what you can do."

If Arnold understood what Olu actually meant, it took his body a moment to respond. Olu flashed his eyes at him and said: "Hustle it up, white boy! Get your ass down here and get a taste of this black cock!"

As if he were stuck in a dream, Arnold rose to his feet unsteadily and came to kneel beside his wife. Becca paid him no attention; her concentration was bent on sucking the life out of her black master's cock.

"Becca, slow down now," said Olu. "Let white boy here get a taste. Now Arnold, I want you to take that cock in your mouth like a good boy and start sucking it. And you'd better do a fine job of it too, or your ass is in trouble, you hear me?"

Arnold didn't need a reminder to that. Becca gave her master's cock one last kiss before passing it over to him. "Go ahead, honey. Make me proud."

He shut his eyes and opened his mouth to receive the black master's cock. He stuck his tongue out and took a first taste of its leathery skin just as Olu then held his head and impatiently shoved his cock hard into his mouth. The ***** of his cock hitting the back of Arnold's throat made him recoil a bit, except his master still held unto his head, thus he had no choice to but accept the gift that was now in his mouth.

"Go on darling, suck it," his wife urged him. "Go on, take his cock."

Did he have any choice not to? The answer was a bold N-O. Arnold did like his wife often used to do to him whenever she was sucking his cock and began sucking Olu's. His black master still held unto his head and went on fucking his mouth, making him ***** and gag on it, letting streams of saliva sliver down the side of his mouth.

After what seemed like a lengthy time of cock-sucking with husband and wife fighting over his cock, Olu retrieved his tool from their grasp and ordered them to strip. He went and sat on the bed, stroking his cock while Becca and Arnold hurried themselves out of their clothes till they stood naked before him. He gave a wolf whistle at the sight of Becca's ample bosom and jutting ass. He made her turn around for him, admiring her sexy curves, before indicating for her to come towards him, which she did. He lay back on the bed and Becca, knowing what was required of her, mounted him. Olu, still holding unto his shaft at first tickled the surface of her bushy clit. Becca was feeling so hot; she wanted that cock like a thirsty man out in the desert would seek a glass of water.

Her face looked to the chandelier hanging from the ceiling and first she took in a sharp intake of breath as she felt the head of his cock penetrate her pussy walls. Her intake of breathe turned into a sharp cry as his cock achieved full penetration. Olu didn't slow down after that—this was another moment he always enjoyed. The exquisite look of pain and ecstasy on the white women's faces whenever they felt the brute ***** of his cock for the first time. It never ceased to excite him, knowing that he was probably breaking their virginity towards sampling a cock that was ten times more original than the limp white cock they'd been feeding on since they turned teens. The moment they felt his cock, it was almost as if they were been reborn, and from that moment on, they would do totally everything and anything to worship him.

He held Becca's thighs and pressed her downward till her cunt had taken nearly half the length of his shaft. By this time she was screaming a high shrill of excitement and pain. She was caught in the throbbing vortex of something extreme, of something totally out of this world, alien, and yet so joyously wonderful.

"OHHHH MY GOODDDDDDD!" Becca gave a lengthy cry as she felt her master's cock slid in further into her cunt, going distant places she never thought any cock would ever venture to. She waved her head about, letting her blond hair scatter about her shoulders. The sound of her excruciating moans descended upon the room, nearly drowning out the music that was coming out of the stereo speakers. Within seconds she was having her first orgasm; it came to her with the mighty ***** of a rocket. Her body seemed to spasm endlessly. "Ohhh my Goddd ... Ohhh my black master! Ohh Sango! Ohh God, I can feel your cock all over!"

Olu burst out with laughter, cocked his legs behind her ass and went on feeding her cunt with his shaft. Becca leaned over his face, her blond hair almost covering his face. She went on screaming as he kept on plying his cock into her. Arnold stood there and watched with mind-numbing surprise at the juicy content of his wife's cum gushing out of her pussy and rolling down the length of his master's cock. A moment later Olu hollered at him to come over and clean up his shaft. He pulled his cock out of his wife's pussy and stuck it forward for Arnold to lick it clean. Arnold always enjoyed giving his wife head right before they make love. He enjoyed so much the warm and succulent taste of her cum gushing into his lips and it was with this image in his head that he was able to lick his master's cock clean of his wife's pussy juice. When he was done, he took a couple of steps back and watched as his master returned his thick cock back into the safety of his wife's cunt; her pussy was now an expanded hole, looking like a giant meteorite crater. Becca howled instantly the moment she felt the return of his cock into her and this time began grinding her ass down on him. Olu gasped from the tightness of her cunt, loving it at the same time as he was now bent on fucking her hard.

For the next thirty minutes he went on pounding Becca's pussy, making her scream and scream and scream delightful music into his ear each time he pulled out his cock only to thrust it back inside her. Orgasm after orgasm wracked her body till she just about thought she would pass out. Olu lifted her up from the bed, locked her legs behind his waist and went on slamming his cock hard against her pussy, till he turned her over and resumed his fucking. He fucked her in more ways that she'd never been fucked before. Becca on her own part couldn't believe how suddenly her life had taken a drastic turn. Twenty-four hours ago she'd been a happily married white woman. Now here she was getting the **** fucked out of her with a black man who fucked her as if he wasn't human. She couldn't stop her screaming, tightening her legs over his waist and pulling him down towards her as she felt another rocket of orgasm about to explode inside her.

"OHHH MY MASTER, FUCK ME! OH GOD, FUCK ME GOODDDD....!"

Just like that, she surrendered herself to another fulfilling rocket explosion. It was then that her master began to grunt louder into her ear and she knew he too was about to cum. He gave a thunderous groan and pulled his cock out of her.

"Get your ass over here, white boy!" he yelled at Arnold, who immediately obeyed, scrambling himself unto the bed which now bore the scent of his wife's pussy.

Olu positioned husband and wife lying beside each other in front of him and began furiously jerking his cock. His breath sounded harsh and just when he felt himself arrive at the precipice, he bellowed once more, aiming the head of his cock to the couple's faces. The first gush of semen landed across Becca's face. Olu emptied is sac over their face and lips and ordered them to digest every drop.

They did as told. In the end, they desired for more.

Arnold did make his flight as promised an hour later. Olu, his black master, saw him to the airport while Becca sat in the car waiting. Olu told him he would fax his work permit papers to his office in a couple of days time, and for Arnold not to worry anymore about anything, including his wife, as she would be in great care till whenever he came back to claim her. As for his copy of their contract, he would send it via email to Arnold's office address; he could then download it whenever he felt like. He stood in the lounge area and watched as Arnold's plane took off into the sky before returning to his car to be with his newest white slave. He had the rest of the day and even the remainder of the week to further indoctrinate her into loving his blackness.

He returned to his vehicle in the airport's parking space, opened his car door and got in. Immediately, Becca leaned towards him and gave him a kiss. She was wearing a tank top with knee-length skirt which easily rode up her legs. He wrapped a hand on her meaty thigh and rode it up to feel the pubic hairs of her crotch; she was already growing wet.

He smiled at her and asked: "You ready for your lesson, white slut?"

Becca nodded. "Oh yes, black master. I'm very ready."

"Good." He put on a pair of sunglasses, started his car and drove out of the airport. Destination: the city, and beyond.

Becca blinked her eyes awake the following morning, under the covers of her black master's sumptuous bed. Her hand felt numb and heavy as it was lying under the pillow under her head. She pulled it out and stretched it across the other side of the bed, wanting to feel the presence of her master's body. The space her hand touched was empty. She raised her head and saw that the only thing lying there was his pillow and nothing else. She sat up on the bed, letting the covers fall from her body, exposing her nakedness to the air-conditioned cold breeze that flirted into the room. Her wristwatch and cell phone lay on a cabinet next to her side of the bed. She picked it up and was shocked to find that it was 9:35a.m. How could she have slept that late? It was something she seldom did. Back home she always going to bed by nine-thirty and got up by six. Then her mind went back to episodes of the previous night and she smiled and then laughed at herself from recalling bits of it.

Her master had promised showing her a good time as long as she was with him, and he'd lived up to the bargain yesterday. After dropping her darling Arnold at the airport, they'd gone to an upper-class restaurant in the city to eat a lavish meal. He'd introduced her to some Nigerian cuisine there—pounded yam and Egusi soup, with fresh fish. She'd acted a bit naive when he instructed her how to eat the food, with her hands. Though more concerned was she about the clothes she was wearing. Her skirt kept riding up her thighs and several of the patrons there must have gotten quite an eyeful as several of them¬—older men wearing colorful Agbada outfit¬—couldn't stop staring repeatedly at the booth where they sat. Her black master though seemed unconcerned about it, and even when she leaned over and she whispered to him about the way they were feeding their eyes on her, he nonchalantly told her not to worry about them, that they probably haven't seen a white woman eating in their midst before. Becca had turned her attention towards her meal, watching the way her master was eating his and thus following his cue. In no time she got the hang of it.

After the restaurant, he'd driven her around the city, pointed out several interesting landmarks for her: showed the expansive government residential headquarters, INEC Building, Abuja Park along Independence Avenue ... but the sight that had most taken her was the magnificent of Olumo Rock. She stared at the huge boulder in awe as they drove past it and entered the part of the city known as Garki. Her master saw the look on her face and laughed; the ladies always got a kick whenever he showed them stuff this part of the world they never figured they would get to see. When he got to a traffic light, he took his hand off the wheel for a moment and caressed her thigh. She took his hand and pushed it inward through the wet walls of her pussy. Olu fingered her cunt for a moment, listened to her gasping sighs, and the retrieved his finger which carried the wet residue of her juice and put it into her mouth. Becca sucked his finger as if it were his cock¬—Ohh, she still carried memories of that lovely black cock of his¬—as if she were tasting ice cream. He drove to a boutique shop and they went inside for him to get some clothes for her.

"I don't want you wearing any of those housewife clothes your husband must have to told you to bring along," he said to her. "From now on, you're going to wear what I get you to wear."

Majority of what he'd bought for her were evening clothes, mostly transparent and quite revealing. They were the type of clothes Becca, in her former life with Arnold, never would have been caught dead wearing them. She was by heart a conservative in nature; hers was a world where even if the money was there, it was usually put aside for something else which usually involved settling bills. Even now as she sat in her master's bed, thinking through her past, she could easily count on her fingers the numerous times she and Arnold had done something extravagant, or a moment when they'd lived an abandon moment. Arnold was always concerned about money, about never having enough of it. In a way, she too had become infected with his mode of living ... but it had probably been for a good reason. That was the type of life they lived when back home. But here they both were in Nigeria, in the heart of Africa, miles away from home. Arnold was now settled in his new job down in Port Harcourt, making the money, while she herself was being guided by her newfound lover and black master. She couldn't have wished for anything better, even though neither of them had had the faintest clue that such was the turnaround they would be getting used to when their Air-France plane brought them to this part of the world.

Olu made her try them on the individual clothes he'd bought for her; they were seven of them in number. The skirts were so short she was at a moment embarrassed to try them on. But the look he gave her told her not to even think about backing down. There were several other ladies hovering there around the changing booth and clothes section and nearly all of them kept turning around to glance surreptitiously at her direction when she came out and displayed each individual outfit for her lover. After the clothes, they strolled over to the underwear's section. He bought her an exotic-looking bikini, something that only a slim model would fit into. It was followed by some crotchless panties, three pairs of teddies, and then in the shoes department, he selected four pair of high heels. Becca was getting dazed with surprise by the minute. She could recall the few times she'd been on high heels; Arnold never enjoyed seeing her in one. She said this to her master as she tried on each pair. Olu dismissed her husband and told her that as long as she was with him, she should forget about Arnold.

They had an assistant help them with the items to his car while he settled the bill. Though it was a bit enormous, he reasoned, but it was a gamble he knew was worth it. He always enjoyed spoiling his women with lavish gifts; it got them wet easily in the end.

Back home they'd returned, by which time it was nearing dusk. He had her try out of the teddies in the living room, and then he'd bent her over on the long sofa and fucked her. For Becca, it was like being fucked for the first time. His cock rammed deep and hard into her pussy like a bullet train. This time he didn't pull out of her; he ejaculated his entire seed deep into her womb. Becca had bitten down on the sofa's fabric, trying not to scream too loud but not succeeding in the end as she felt another orgasmic bombshell explode inside her. It was too late when she realized she wasn't on the pill.

They'd fucked for another hour, by which time she was extremely drained by it, and yet he still had the energy and stamina of a lion. They'd taken a shower together. She'd sponged his body with liquid soap, felt his cock nodding back to life and washed it off too, along with his balls, though for these ones she did the cleaning with her mouth. Her hand caressed her pussy lips while she cupped each of his massive balls in her mouth and sucked one after the other. Feeling satisfied, he'd then pulled her to her feet and dragged her into the bedroom with water and soap suds sticking to their skin. He had her lean over on the bed; Becca's hands went underneath her legs and she held her pussy lips open for him, giving him unabashed view of the pink interior that was her cunt with her juice gushing out of it, enticingly bouncing her hefty bum at him too. Olu grinned at her and came forward and held her down on the bed. He thrust his manhood into her in one quick stroke and within seconds began plugging her pussy like it owned it. Becca had raw ecstasy searing through her nerves like lightning, and with each thrust, it felt like she could actually hear thunderclaps.

"OHH FUCK! OHH MY GOD! FUCK ME, MASTER! OHHHH FUCK MEEEEE!"

Her master grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head backwards just as her voice turned into a piercing wail. Her master smacked her bum on and on till it turned red, grunting heavily while still feeding her his dick. The bout of fucking went on for a good thirty minutes. Her black master fucked her cunt in every which way possible. When it came time for him to cum, he did like in the afternoon and emptied his load into her, after which he then collapsed on the bed beside her. Becca lay there catching her breath, feeling a sensational sore where her pussy was. Her hand slid in that direction and she touched his bountiful cum dripped out of pussy. She turned her head to look at her master and wondered: My God, he's insatiable! I never thought such men like this ever exist anymore!

They fell a***** for more than an hour. When her master woke her up, it was a little past ten. He told her they needed to be someplace. She actually was tired and could have used the *****, but as he was her master, there was no choice but for her to do his bidding. He led her back into the bathroom to clean up and after they'd dried up, he selected from the items he bought for her a blouse that was near transparent and a micro-mini skirt. She wore on a pair of thong panties and a half-cup bra that hiked up her tits; last came a pair of high heels. Olu admired her for a moment and the look on his face told her he liked what he saw. He put on a t-shirt and jeans, and when they were ready, they went downstairs to his car. A security guard had the gate open for him and they then drove off into the city to a fancy nightclub. The rest of the night had gone like a blur before her eyes. She remembered dancing with him ... his hands caressing her ass while they bumped hips to the music ... them sipping cocktails and she gasping as he slid his hand between her legs to cop a feel of her love nest ... them being back in the car, and she giving him head while he drove.

Becca was still recalling all of this and more when her cell phone rang out, startling her. She didn't recognized the number, though knew it was Nigerian. She put it next to her ear and said, "Hello?"

"Did you ***** well?" she recognized her master's voice immediately.

"Oh yes, I very much did. Gosh, what time did we get home last night?"

"A little past midnight," he said. "I've got some minor work to take care of here at the office; I'll close early and be back by noon. I have a housekeeper downstairs. Ask her whatever you need, and she'll get it for you."

"I'd like to make use of your swimming pool, master, if you don't mind. I need to get some sun on my skin."

"Sure, you can. After all, that's what the bikini is for. Don't burn too much though."

"I won't," she smiled at the sound of his caring voice.

When their conversation ended, she got up and went to have a shower. Wearing a bathrobe, she went downstairs and saw his housekeeper there in the kitchen. She made her a cup of coffee, scrambled eggs and some toast. Done with breakfast afterwards, she returned to the bedroom and took out her traveling bag and began replacing the clothes her master had bought for her with much of the ones she'd left England with. She would give them to the housekeeper later to get rid of them for her. Her thoughts then went to Arnold. She wondered how he was doing, if he was finding his new job easy. She thought about calling him right away, but then canned the idea; he wasn't too important to her right now, though she promised doing that later. It was still early for her to go out and take a swim. She reached into her travel bag and took out a Mils and Booms novel she'd brought along to keep her company and went to lie on the bed to read through some pages, hopping for the hour to hurry along.

At 2:25p.m Olu returned from work and drove into his compound. The day was a Friday; business usually was slow on such days and knew it won't kick up till next week. He met his housekeeper who gave him a summary of feeding his guest before he then dismissed her for the day. He left his briefcase and jacket in the living room and went through the kitchen door to the back of the house where his swimming pool was located.

Becca lay stretched on one of the lounge chairs beside the pool under a shade away from the heat of the sun. She'd been soaking herself in its cool, inviting water since noon. She was nearly dozing off when she felt someone shaking her arm. She pulled down the shades she had on and recognizing who it was she broke into a smile.

"Master!" she got to her feet and wrapped her hands around his neck and kissed him. Olu gave her soft ass a good squeeze just as she in return rubbed her thigh against his crotch, feeling something there slowly come alive. "I've missed you."

"I'll bet you have. You're really looking gorgeous in this bikini."

"All thanks to you."

"I'll have to keep you close to myself, or else other black brothers would do anything to steal your ass from me."

"I doubt if I'll let them," she said.

"You had yourself a good swim?"

She nodded. "I've already showered. In no time I'm going to get my tan back."

"Africa is where the sun makes its home. In no time, you'll be shining like a bronze statue."

"I can't wait for that to happen." She kissed him again. "I've really missed you."

"Good to know. Come with me, there's a something I'd like to show you."

She wrapped a towel around her body and allowed him to lead her into the house. In the living room, her master motioned for her to seat down and went to a display cabinet. She pushed her wet hair off her face and watched with curiosity as he took from inside the cabinet a hand-held statue of a figure with a double axe-head for a crown. He came and sat next to her and gave her the state to look at.

"What is it?" she asked.

"That is a statue of a mythical god of the Yoruba tribe, which is where I hail from. His name is Shango, the god of thunder. It is from him I bore my name. We Africans are a proud people, Becca. We take double pride in our heritage and lifestyle. Shango, in his time, was a proud warrior and a benevolent god. His ***** runs through my veins; and it is why for you to remain with me, you must listen and obey every word I say to the last. Do you follow me?"

"Yes master, I do follow," she said without compunction.

He went on with his indoctrination. "It wasn't my intention to hurt your husband the way I did yesterday. I merely wanted him to know his place¬—his rightful place¬—he is a white boy and as well a slave. The true African religion states that all white men are subservient to blacks. I know back where you come from you're unaware of such happenings. But down here the opposite is the case. Black men are far superior to the whites in strength, stamina, or even brain power. It's only unfortunate that the rest of the world is yet to embrace this notion, but gradually it will. And with what you've come to know, when next time you return to England, you will tell more people there about how virile the men down here are, and of how loyal your service is to me. Am I getting through to you?"

"Yes, master."

"Prior to your coming here, tell me honestly, have you before being fucked by a black man?"

She shook her head.

"Tell me honestly, have you been enjoying it so far all these times I've been fucking you?"

She smiled happily. "Oh yes, master. I enjoy every second and minute of it. it's been unlike any kind of fucking I've even gotten before."

"Is it anything compared to how white boy Arnold has been fucking you?"

"No. he hardly comes to you. I can't remember the last time I actually enjoyed sex with him."

"And you won't ever again. By the time you return to England, you're going to be a changed woman. No longer will you allow your cunt to be seduced by any white boy prick. You're going to start going out in search for black dicks and black dicks only. And every time you do, you're never going to refuse swallowing their cum. You'd better get used to this, Becca. You're now officially a black man's slut and that's what you'll always be. Your life from now on will be totally different from the one you used to know. Do you get me?"

"Yes, I do."

"Have you ever been fucked in the ass too?"

"Oh my God, no," she gasped. "I mean, I've seen it done in porn flicks. I know too that some women enjoy it. One time when Arnold and I were fooling around, he talked about it—wanting to do it to me, but I shook him off."

"It's a good thing you didn't let him."

"Master, doesn't it hurt?"

"I won't lie to you—it does. But only at the onset. Later on you won't even feel it. You'll even get to enjoy it just as much as you love getting fucked the normal way."

Still there was skepticism on her face. "Well ... I don't know ... I've never tried it before."

"All the more reason why you need to try it now," he urged. "I want to experience everything there is to know about loving a black man, and of being fucked a black man's way. Trust me, you're going to enjoy it."

"You really think so, master?"

"Look at me, Becca. Look right into my eyes."

And she did; she was totally mesmerized by the power that radiated within those brown eyes of his.

"I told you that I'm a descendant from a black African god. One of the strength of all black gods is the inherent will to have any woman they want, regardless of who she is or where she's from. I've had my taste of white women before—I'm not going to lie to you about that—and I can still go out right now and return with another. But there's a reason why I chose you. You're a wanting woman, Becca. I look into your eyes and I see a lot of desires you've wanted to have for so long but have been refused of. What I'm giving you is something most white women out there would die for—the most precious gift of any black man, and that's his cum. I want you to have it in every which you can take it. But for me to give it to you, you've got to be willing to step up and ask for you."

He said all this with emotive passion. Becca was so swayed by his words she could hardly breathe.

"Now tell me, do you want me to fuck you anally or not?"

"Yes," she answered breathlessly. "Yes, master. I want it. I want to have as much of your cum that you can spare me with."

"Good. Later this evening we're going to go out. There are some friends of mine I'd like for you to meet. But first, I need a bath."

Becca went with him upstairs and watched him get off from his clothes. She sat on the bed admiring his muscles, the growth of hair on his chest and arms, the muscle outline of his abdomen ... then her eyes took in his cock which now was as turgid as an evergreen tree, along with his sac of balls. Becca went ahead fingering and rubbing her clit while he neatly put his clothes away. She couldn't help but believe all what he'd told her downstairs. For truly he looked just like a god; he was everything a man ought to be. Suddenly she wished she didn't have the burden of Arnold to live with. Why couldn't she have been a divorcee, or a yet unmarried woman? Gladly she would give anything just to be her black master's slave. She would cook for him, feed him his food, wash his body whenever he takes a shower, and let him fuck her every which way he desired. All this and more she would gladly offer herself totally for him. Worship the ground on which he walked on and even lick the sweat that poured from his body. If she'd known long ago of such men no doubt she would have visited Africa years ago, long before she ever thought of settling her Arnold.

She went with him into the bathroom and picked up the sponge and scrubbed his body as he took his bath. His hand grasped her fatty ass and he kissed her passionately, probing his tongue way deep into her mouth while his cock pressed against her stomach. Done with his bath, they dried themselves up in the bedroom and then he picked up a DVD disc and led her downstairs naked. He inserted the disc into a DVD player and turned on the TV set. Becca recognized the scene of the movie when it came up. It was yesterday's recording on her kneeling before her master and sucking his cock. Olu took the DVD remote and forwarded it to the part when she handed her husband his cock to suck.

"This is the part I like best," Olu laughed as both of them cuddled and watched what was on the screen.

Becca grasped his cock and started stroking it. She came down from the couch and took the head of his cock into her mouth. She took her time sucking him this time. She rolled and coiled her lips up and down his phallus as much as she could. Olu groaned from the sensation her tongue was giving him and held her head and began jerking his hip towards her face, giving her as much of his dick that she could handle.

"Yeah, you're a white slut now, aren't you?" he asked her.

"Uh-huh," she murmured; the look of lust in her eyes was evident. "I'm a total white slut, master!"

She resumed sucking him. Her mouth slobbered up and down his shaft like she was hungry for it, like she would do anything to have it. A moment later, he pulled her up and brought her to mount him. Her body squirmed from the contact penetration and she whimpered helplessly as her soft round butt ground further down his shaft. Her ass bounced up and down hard on him and periodically rocked him from side to side as she couldn't get enough of his cock. Not long they were both grunting like wild *******, fucking with reckless abandon. Olu pushed her off him and brought his hands to her inner thighs and held her legs wide apart. The sight of her expanding pussy was joy to him. He brought his head downward and inserted his tongue between the warm throbbing walls of her pussy. Becca jerked convulsively and groaned from the searing delight on his tongue.

Oh God! Ohhhh my God!" she whimpered repeatedly and tried to push him away but still he held onto her. He nibbled on her tiny puckered clit, sending shockwave after shockwave of lightening and thunderclaps traveling every inch of her body. She couldn't stop herself from reaching her climax.

"Ohhhh ... Ohhhh, master!" she groaned. "Oh please fuck me, master! Please fuck me right now before I lose my head! I want your black cock so bad!"

Deciding he'd given her cunt enough wetness with his tongue, he came up to her and let his cock slid easily into her pussy. Becca wrapped her legs and arms around his back and moved her hips in rhythm to his movement. After a while, he half stood up and brought her legs to rest on his shoulder, giving him more leverage to bang her harder. The muscles in his buttocks flexed and hollowed repeatedly as he drove his cock deeper into her. Becca felt totally fulfilled as she shuddered uncontrollably under him. She allowed him full control of her body, letting him use her as much and as long as he wanted; for her, this was total bliss. He came forward, dug his hands under her bag and gradually lifted her up from the couch. Becca wrapped her legs instinctively around him as he hefted her up and with one hand grasping her buttocks began firing his thick rod back and forth into her virgina. Becca screamed and screamed with high abandon till she just about passed from the recurring bout of climax she was having.

"OH YES! OH YES! FUCK ME, MASTER! OHH FUCK ME, MASTER!"

"You love being a black man's whore, bitch?" he spat the question to her face.

"OHHH YES, MASTER! I'M YOUR FUCKING WHORE!" she screamed out her answer.

"You want me to fuck you every which way, don't you, white bitch?"

"MORE THAN EVER, MASTER. OHHH YOU FUCK ME GOOD!"

"You want me to fuck your asshole too?" he demanded.

"OH YES, MASTER! FUCK MY PUSSY AND MY ASS!"

He firing engine drew to a stop and then he lowered her down on the couch. Becca though she noticed smoke curling out of her pussy. Her black master stood before her, breathing heavy. His face and torso now covered in sweat while his phallus bore evidence of her cum juice. He climbed over the couch and held onto the wall while she ingested his cock and sucked him clean. His eyes squeezed shut and he groaned loudly and pressed her face to his cock as the first spurt of cum shot out of his cock and flooded her mouth, followed by another, and then another. Becca grunted deep in a throat and recoiled each time his cum slid down her throat. She had never had sex this rough or this lewd before. For real she was having the time of her life.

Olu nearly toppled upon her as he came down from the couch and slumped beside her. The recorded movie was still playing on the screen. Sometime later he got up though told her to remain there while he disappeared up the stairs. He returned a minute later this time with his cell phone and an oil lube in his hand. Becca was so tired she could hardly make herself get up. That her master had the sturdy power of a horse was just amazing to her. He'd been fucking her nearly non-stop since yesterday and he looked like he could go another round with her.

He came and sat beside her and started scrolling through his phone contact numbers, and then he asked: "Have you spoken to Arnold since today?"

She gasped as she then remembered the promise she'd made of calling him but had forgotten about it. "No," she said. "It slipped my mind."

"Well don't sweat it. It's his number I'm about to call now. Let's hear of how his white boy ass has been doing at work. Are you hungry?"

"Right now I'm starving."

"Don't worry, we'll get you something to eat. And then after that, when you're strong enough," he smiled and showed her the lube tube. "I'm going to dis-virgin that pretty ass of yours!"

************

They didn't go out anymore. Becca was totally worn out for their last bout she could barely stand to her feet after he was done with it. Olu had made her something to eat, after which they'd both retired to the bedroom to ***** the afternoon off. Even as she lay in bed with her legs curled up her body, there was still the throbbing pain coming from her asshole. She was calm with it now though, knowing it had reduced, but it still felt as if she'd had a train rammed up her anally. Though in this case, the train had only been her master's thick cock thrusting its way deeper and deeper through her sphincter muscles. The pain had been enormous ... but afterwards lovingly fun.

She'd chatted with her husband on the phone earlier before Olu then took her.

"Hey there, honey," she'd said when her master handed her his phone. "How was your first day at the job?"

"My first day went fine," answered Arnold. "The Operations Manager was on hand to show me around, and I got to shake as much hands as I could. But they've given me an office, and it's got just about every communication gadgets here that you can think of. The job's really great."

"That's wonderful, I'm so happy for you."

"And how about you, darling. How're you holding up over there?"

"I'm doing just fine, spectacularly fine. The master's taking great care of me. He's been showing me much of the city—Abuja is a very lovely place, really. Since you've been gone, I've been having so much fun and he's been spoiling me rotten."

His voice then became tentative: "Has he been ... you know ... making love to you?"

The question drained the smile from Becca's face as she then turned cold. "What you meant to ask is has the master been fucking me. Isn't that what you want to know, Arnold?"

"Well ... umm ..."

"The fuck are you whining about for?" she spat into the mouthpiece. "You know damn well the master has been screwing me since you left. Matter of fact we just stopped fucking a few minutes ago so I can talk to your white boy ass. I've still got his cum running down my pussy, and guess what¬—he doesn't use a condom. And do you want to hear more?"

"No, no ... please ..."

"When I'm done talking to you, the master's going to fuck me again. This time in my cute bunny ass! How do you like that now, honey."

A second passed before the sound of Arnold exhaling at the other end of the line came through. "Oh my God, Becca! Why?"

"Why not, Arnold. Because you just don't give me enough cum, and also because it's what I want. It's what I crave for."

Olu took the phone from her and spoke to her husband. "How're you doing, white boy. This is your master talking to you, white boy."

"Oh ... good afternoon, master," came the reply.

"I'll be sending those items to you next Monday. What I want from you is your email address so I can mail it to you. Wouldn't want your company address either, not unless you want someone else to catch wind of what we're up to, know what I mean?"

"Yes ... yes, master. I know."

"So, how's the work going down there? You getting the hang of things?"

"Y ... Yes master, everything is working out fine. Please, master, is Becca alright?"

Olu laughed derisively into his ear. "Of course she's alright. Weren't you just talking to her a minute ago? What did you think, that I'd locked her up? Your wife's looking fine from over here." His hand groped Becca's round ass while he talked and gave it a good squeeze. "She sure loves sucking cock and fucking too; she just can't seem to get enough of my black cock. I'm sorry to be the one to break this to you, white boy, but she's now a black man's slut. She even told me too how lazy your ass often is in bed, and that you hardly take her out at all. How come you've had this lovely piece of ass all this time and yet don't know how to handle it, white boy?"

"Err ... I really ... we didn't have the money or the time for that," he stammered.

Olu snorted. "Listen to yourself, whining like a school boy whose lunch box has just been stolen. You come from a better world than I do and yet you don't know how to treat a woman right. Maybe you do get here I'm going to give you some pointers on the subject. Tell me you'd like that."

"Yes. Yes master, I really would like that."

"That's good to know. You're a quick learner, white boy, and I like you for that. I've got to go now. We'll talk to you later. Be a good boy now, and keep your white ass out of trouble." Then he ended the call.

Becca got up and knelt on the couch. Her hands spread open her butt cheeks and she winked at him. "Alright master, I believe I'm ready for my close-up now."

Olu picked up the lube tube and poured some on his hand. "Damn right you're ready."

And then he came forward and rubbed it over her ass, inserting a finger into her tiny hole. Becca seemed to black out after that. All she remembered with the lighting pain that erupted on her body as he drilled her asshole again and again with his black rod. The pain had so numbed her senses she could barely hear the sound of her voice screaming. But in the midst of her hurt, her master kept whispering in her ear, encouraging her not to worry, that the pain wasn't going to last. Olu was a pro when it came to ass-fucking and breaking anal holes for the first time. He started out gentle with Becca, breathing heavy with each grunt as he ****** her to take a inch further of him. Becca gripped the head of the couch and bit down on its fabric; the feel of her master's cock fucking her ass was immense and spreading like wild fire within. The pain had lasted all through the screwing session. But in the end, when he finally lavished his cum over her butt, it had been worth it.

The following morning her black master woke her up first with a kiss, then with a tray of breakfast which he'd prepared for her downstairs. He told her that as it was a Saturday he usually gave his housekeeper the weekend off. They sat beside each other and eat; she sometimes fed him from her plate.

"So, what are we going to do today?" she asked him.

Olu took a forkful of egg into his mouth and ate it before answering her. "Today, we're going to visit some friends of mine. Just some old school buddies I'd like you to get to know. I'd wanted us to go see them yesterday, but as you were tired, I pushed it forward to today."

She played with the little growth of beard under his chin. "Okay. Are they as handsome as you are?"

"You'll have to see them first to know," he laughed. "Come on, let's take this tray downstairs and then let's go take a swim. I can sure use the water."

"I'd like that, master."

He wrapped a towel around his waist while she wore on bathrobe and together they went downstairs.

Olu did venture out later in the morning though he promised he would return soon enough. Becca used the time to explore the other rooms of his house, though she didn't find much that would interest her. She spent the rest of the day in the living room watching cable TV and later searching through his DVD collection for something suitable to watch. She felt so alone in the house and deeply looked forward to her master's return.

Olu came back sometime in the afternoon. Becca had fallen asleep on the sofa when he arrived, though he woke her up and together they went upstairs for another bout of sex.

The rest of the day went further on till the evening arrived and the Olu told her to start getting dressed. When it was 8:30p.m, they drove out of his compound and into the city. The city's nightlife was teeming activity. Almost every street they passed there was a club, and from the loud music coming from it, along with the throng of crowd standing by the roadside, things really were looking out for everyone.

Olu drove to a high-rise apartment complex across from Abiola Highway. He parked his car and holding hands, they entered the building and rode the elevator to one of the high floors. All the while he'd told Becca little about the friends whom they were going to meet, and in a way she didn't want to know too soon; that just might spoil the mood. She was wearing a delectable evening dress with sleeveless arms and an open back space and another pair of high heels; she wasn't putting on any bra or panties, except for a teddy, as per her master's instruction. Olu, before they'd left his home, had commented that she looked good enough to eat.

They got to the floor and stepped out into the corridor and made their way down the hall. Olu came to a stop before an apartment door and knocked. The door came open to reveal a black man standing behind in, wearing a Raiders shirt and baggy jeans.

"Ol' boy! How far!" his friend laughed at him as they hugged each other. "Where you don hide since? Man, we never see your break light for long."

"Abeg, no mine me," laughed Olu, still clapping hands on his friend's shoulder. "Too much work is what's got me. The guys, are they around?"

"You no trust them? Sure, they're in."

Becca watched as they bantered and laughed at each other while the friend led them further into the apartment.

There were two other black men seated in the living room waiting for them. They were watching a sports program on the TV when the three of them entered; if Becca was nervous meeting them she didn't show it, though she actually was. Were it not for the comforting presence of her master, she wouldn't dare have set foot into the apartment. Olu shook hands and exchanged hugs with his other friends before introducing them to Becca. The one in the Raider's shirt was called Taiwo. One of the other friends, looking imposing in an evening jacket and black trousers was Kenny. The last was of average height with a shaved head. His name was Mike. He took Becca's hand and kissed his palm; it sent a shiver of excitement up her arm. Olu told her that Taiwo and Kenny, just like him, were of Yoruba tribe, whereas Mike's parents came from Warri, a thriving city located in the Delta region. They took their seats while Taiwo went and fetched the ******. They brought Becca into their conversation, asked her how much she was enjoying Abuja, and if Olu was being a good host. Becca laughed and replied that he was the best.

As the evening wore on the men continued to relax around her. Taiwo went to his stereo set and muted the TV and put on some music. He asked Becca for a dance. She glanced at her master and he indicated for her to go ahead. Taiwo held her closer and ground his hips against her, touching every part of her body as she too danced around him. A while later Mike took over from him and he too did the same, though he went further to grope her ass. She drew closer to him and felt a bulge in his jeans. Kenny came with her ***** and played with her body too while she sipped her ***** and continued to dance between the men. Olu merely sat back and watched. As the music went on they began kissing her. Tentatively at first, then before she had time to think, Kenny held her face and stuck his tongue between her lipstick-coated lips. While she was caught up in the kiss, Mike was caressing her tits from behind her dress. Taiwo came and took her empty glass from her hand and reached a hand under her skirt to feel her naked skin. Becca was moaning in her throat as she felt herself being consumed by the three black men. The sensation she was getting was triple that which her master had been heaping upon her since the day they met.

Taiwo led the way towards the bedroom and the three of them followed; Olu remained in the living room, sipping his beer and listening to the music that was playing.

Kenny had his jacket off his arms and was hurrying to get out of the rest of his clothes while his colleagues pushed the white woman down on the bed and started feeling her all over. They helped her out of her dress till she sat there naked before them. Taiwo and Mike climbed up the bed and quickly had their cocks out of their jeans. Becca took turns sucking their cocks one after the other. What one lacked in length, the other gained in thickness and girth. Her head went back and forth as her mouth sampled each cock back and forth, inhaling the musky smell of their pubic region while she did. Both men groaned from the pleasure they were getting and wouldn't stop urging her to do so. Kenny, having shed off his clothes, came round behind her and lay under her legs and began licking her pussy. Becca now was grounding her hips down on his face at the same time moaning in her throat while she ****** herself to concentrate on her sucking. Kenny licked and probed her pussy with his tongue and fingered her asshole as well. Becca was uncontrollably bucking her ass above his face, feeling a constricting wave of pleasure taking place inside her. She held the other men's cocks in both hands and was furiously stroking them as she cried out her first orgasm for the evening.

"My guy, that's enough!" Taiwo hollered to his friend, Kenny. "No need licking her till she dies. Me, I want to fuck right now."

Kenny came away from between her legs and made way for Taiwo, who now had taken off his clothes and came to position himself behind her. He gave her buttocks a kiss and then grasped her waist as he shoved his cock into her pussy's wetness. Becca had a mouthful of his friend's cocks but still she groaned as she felt him thrust his cock all the way into her; it was like having a lead pipe shoved into her. He fucked her hard and good, hardly giving her a fighting chance to catch her breath. Taiwo pulled her backward towards him and gritted his teeth as he continued ramming his cock all the way into her. Becca couldn't hold back the guttural moans from escaping her lips, and she followed them with some willful pleading.

"Oh my God! Oh fuck me! Fuck me harder ... harder! Give me your big hard cock!"

"Yo, Taiwo, you hear that?" laughed Mike. "The bitch wants you to fuck her hard."

"If it's hard she wants," grunted Taiwo with each successive thrust. "Then it's hard she's going to get!"

Her cries seemed to spur Taiwo on and he kept on hitting her cunt as hard and vicious. He gazed down and smiled at the sight of his shaft disappearing between the ass cheeks of Becca's pussy, loving the sight of her panties lines on her skin. God! How he loved fucking white women. His heart was beating hard against his chest and he eventually had to make way for his other buddies to get a taste of her, least he came too soon.

Mike's turn came next and like his friend, he couldn't wait to get a taste of her. He rolled her onto her back and hung her legs over his shoulders. His cock was sticking between his legs like a straight arrow, and all he did was shift his position a bit and then it found its way into her treasure. Becca grabbed his shoulders and cried out as his cock sank all the way into her cunt. The walls of her cunt seemed to wrap themselves around his shaft like a hand glove. Just like his friend, he too wasted no time banging the daylights out of her, grunting steadily while he did. Becca wrapped her legs over his back as if for dear life and screamed repeatedly over his shoulder. Mike's balls kept slapping against the bottom of her ass; his friends exchanged snide banter while they stroked their cocks and waited for his turn to be over. Mike went on slamming down on her cervix hard enough to bring her shrieking to a second orgasm. Even as her body shuddered under him he kept on fucking her hard; his lips gave her a smooching kiss, grunting down her face at the same time. Suddenly his lower body began to tense up. Becca realized he too was about to cum and she pressed his body down on hers.

"Cum inside me," she cried out. "PLEASE ... PLEASE CUM INSIDE ME!"

Mike groaned loud and grunted multiple times as he shot his load inside her. He rolled off her body totally spent, his stream of cum poured out of her pussy.

***** man! You sure jacked your whole load inside her!" Kenny indicated to his friend as he came up on the bed stroking his lengthy erection in his hand.

Mike replied his friend: "Your papa!" and then they both exploded in sarcastic mirth.

Kenny lay on his back and brought Becca to mount him. Kenny had an enormous sized cock just like her master's, and she had to take her time to ground her ass on him in order to get used to his girth. Cum juice poured from her cunt and lathered his shaft down to his balls as he went on slamming his cock all the way into her; her ass made a loud squishing sound each time she landed on him.

Her eyes widened she felt a probing finger in her puckered anus. She half turned her head, thinking that perhaps it was her master, but was surprised to see Taiwo there, grinning back at her.

"Oh yeah, Olu called us earlier and told us a lot about you; about how much you love black cock. He also told us that he'd broken through your asshole, too. I guess not it's going to be my turn to hit."

He went and got a lube tube which he then returned with the grease her ass with. When he was ready, he pushed her forward, hunching over her, and Becca shut her eyes at the same time steeled herself as she felt the head of his cock straining through her anal muscle. She groaned and tried relaxing her straining sphincter. Taiwo groaned through his teeth as well as he ****** his cock to slip in a few more inches.

"God you're so tight!" Taiwo muttered, gripping her hips.

The feeling was of pain and joy mixed together. She didn't cry out as much as she'd done early, and in no time the three of them established a rhythm of fucking with her doing much of the movement herself. She was sandwiched between them, taking their cock all the way to the hilt. Kenny grasped her tits with his mouth while his friend nibbled on her earlobe and sometimes gave her love bites on her shoulders as he grunted steadily into her ear. Becca kept screaming for them to fuck her harder; she arrived at another climax not too long. A while later Taiwo couldn't take it much any longer and bellowed as he pulled out of her in time to spray her buttocks with his load of semen. Kenny kept on slamming his cock into her even as his colleague's semen rolled down her butt to stain the sheets. Still holding onto her, he rolled over to be on top. He balanced himself on his toe and began fucking her in long strokes. His cock was sending shards of excitement tearing through every fiber of her body. The final orgasm that came to her came with the ***** of being slammed by a high speed train, and not long after that Kenny came too.

She couldn't tell if she passed out of just shut her eyes and pretended to fall asleep. When she felt a hand groping her arm, her eyes came open and she saw her master standing there beside the bed gazing down at her nakedness; his three friends sat on the bed ribbing each other over the bout of white pussy they'd just had.

"You enjoying yourself?" Olu asked her.

"Oh yes, master," she replied with glee. "More than ever. As a matter of fact, I haven't had this much fun ever."

Her hands went to work on the zipper of his pants and she wasn't surprised to see that he was sporting a hard-on. She extracted his cock from inside and he held her head and began fucking her face with his cock.

"You're such a well-trained slut, do you know that?" he said to her.

"Oh yes, master. I can't thank you enough for everything." She resumed sucking him till he finally came in her mouth and then she licked him clean.

An hour later after she'd cleaned herself up in his friend's bathroom they took their leave. The streets were quiet; few vehicles drove past them. Their windows were rolled down and a cold breeze blew into the car, bringing goose pimples over Becca's arms. She rested her head on her master's shoulder as he drove.

"I'm never going to forget this night," she mumbled.

"Don't worry, you won't."

They drove straight for home.

Arnold was diligent at his job. In the week since he arrived, he'd taken him less time to settle in and get adjusted to the rhythm of his work office, which was as Projection Design Manager, located at the Federal Light terminal of the Port Harcourt/Onne Jetty. His routine was simplistic and downright frugal, an observation that wasn't lost on the other expatriate workers around, most especially his fellow Britons, and it hoped that by the time of his next work rotation, he would have loosened up and learn to take due advantage of not only his office but the whims and excitement of being a foreigner in this part of Africa.

Arnold was well aware of the whims they were referring to, much of which involved a lot of the foreigners sampling the city's local girls, especially the ones that resided close to the camp. He could easily indulge himself too into getting a sure taste of them ... though he was yet to meet anyone that caught his fancy. And anyway, his work for now was what took up his time the most.

He operated on a simple routine. His alarm clock wakes him up at 5:30a.m at the large residential camp where he was being quartered, along with a majority of foreigners and some nationals working at the Onne Jetty. He goes out for an early morning jog around several blocks before returning to his apartment and jumping into the shower. Sometimes he makes himself a cup of coffee and then sits in the apartment's living room to watch cable on TV, or if he wasn't interested, he'd stroll down towards the camp's restaurant building and eat there along with several other expatriates. His transport vehicle—a white Hilux jeep—arrived almost always between 7:00a.m and 7:20a.m to pick him up, which was about the same time most of the expatriates too left the camp to their various offices. The drive down to the jetty was three miles. He would remain there at his work station till 11:30a.m when he would depart for lunch break and be back at the office an hour later or thereabouts to continue with the work.

Closing hour was 5:30p.m, with a drive back to the camp. How did he spend his evenings? Sometimes he strolled down to the camp's poolside bar (he preferred being at the poolside than at the bar) and had a beer or two and talked shop with some fellow Britons as well as other expatriates, before deciding whether to eat at the restaurant or return to his apartment and cook himself something. It was either that or he stayed indoors and watched cable. Each time he starved himself of the urge to pick his cell phone and dial Becca's number. He missed her not being there with him. All he wanted was just the sound of her voice ... to know how well she was getting with Olu, and if possible to ask when she'd plan to come down to Port Harcourt and visit him. It sure would be lovely having her here. At least then he could show her off to the numerous Brits he was friendly with, so then they too know who what he has. Several of them too had their wives here in the camp as well, and Becca sure would make friends easily with them.

Fortunately he didn't have to make that call to find out her answer; master Olu called him at his office on a Wednesday afternoon, a week and two days after his arrival, to let him know two things: the first was that he'd made a request of extending Arnold's stay in the country for another two weeks, as the duration of his rotation stated for him to remain in-country for four, by which time his back-to-back reliever would arrive from Europe to take over from him while he returned home to convalesce. Arnold had been aware of this only recently and was surprised how Olu could know of it.

"You're forgetting, white boy," Olu sniggered at him through the phone, "I'm the master, and you're the slave. There's just about nothing you're doing down there that I'm not aware of. I can even tell you what your office chair looks like. Would you want to know?"

"No, no, master. I was only wondering how you—"

"Never mind about the how," said Olu brusquely. "Just for you to know that I've got fingers and ********* over there in P.H and I can reach you whenever. Anyway, enough of that. The second thing I'm calling you about is to let you know I've got a two week break from my office, and I figured it's time I had me a vacation with Becca. We're heading over to Port Harcourt this Friday to see how your ass is doing."

Arnold paused for a moment, not knowing whether to be elated by this or not. Privately, he was elated. Of seeing his wife after more than a week now ... and of seeing master Olu with her. All this time that he told himself that it was only his wife he was missing, but it wasn't until later on that he came to realize that he missed the master's presence as well. He missed the brusqueness of his voice and his intimidating presence. Never before had he ever thought he could be so cowered or subjugated by an individual but he was truly one of a kind.

"Hey, white boy!" Olu yelled into his earpiece. "Your ass still there?"

Arnold returned to the present. "Oh yes ... yes, master, I'm here. That's really good news, of both of you coming down here."

"I figured you'd be happy about it. You itching to suck some more black cum? I know you're just about starved of it over at that residence camp."

"Yes master, they don't serve such in their menu."

"They don't have to, white boy. Black cum is like caviar—too precious to go to waste. But there's got to be some Nigerians staying there at the camp with you. Don't tell me you haven't begun mixing with any?"

Arnold bit down on his lip. "Well, em ... no, no, I really am not much of the friendly sort."

"You don't have to be the friendly sort to get yourself some new friends, white boy. For God's sake, this is Africa and not England. No wonder Becca's so unhappy being with your dull ass. Here's an assignment for you, white boy. You listening closely?"

"Hold on, master." Arnold left his desk and went to his door and turned in the lock so as not to be disturbed before returning to his chair. "Yes master, go ahead."

"You're going to find yourself a black friend there at the camp. I don't care if he resides there, or if he's a staff worker, but that's what you're going to do. And you're going to befriend him and tell him how much you'd like to get a taste of his cock. And you're going to take a snapshot of you sucking his cock with your phone and send it to me, and you must get it done on or before Friday. I don't care how you do it, but make sure it gets done. You hear me, white boy?"

"I do, master. But ... what if I don't find someone? Or what if he thinks I'm gay or something and runs out on me?"

"Focus, white boy!" Olu snapped. "No black man is going to walk around with a sign hanging off his neck saying he loved feeding white men his cock. This isn't Belgium or Greenwich Village, New York. You're just going to have to get past that hurdle yourself by whichever means you can. I really don't care, but just get it done on or before Friday. And don't think about crossing me if you don't."

The line disconnected. Arnold sighed before then returning to his work. An hour later he was off for his lunch break.

Early evening arrived when he returned to the camp. He took a bath and then wore a shirt and khaki shorts and sandals and then left his apartment and strolled towards the camp's poolside bar.

There were only a handful of white men there; majority of them were only just arriving at the camp from work, thus the bar won't be feeling lively till the next hour or so. I noticed a white couple swimming in the pool. The white women looked nothing like his Becca, still, watching the woman only made him long for her. He got to the bar and ordered a Becks beer and then turned around.

A black man was at that moment seated alone at a table facing the swimming pool. He had a glass of beer standing close to his arm. Arnold remained where he was at the bar counter, sizing him up, wondering how he would make his pitch. Already he'd noticed how divided a majority of the foreigners at the camp seemed to be: the Americans tend to stick to themselves, same with the Brits, French, and even Asians. On few occasions he'd observed them mingling with each other. He kept thinking of reasons why he shouldn't do what he needed to do. But then he recalled the words of his master. And he'd been right about another thing when they'd talked on the phone¬—he really was starved of black cum. The desire of having the taste of it in his mouth was overwhelming. Night after night since he arrived here, in his dreams he saw himself kneeling before his master, taking his black cock into his mouth and just sucking the cum out of it. It had taken Arnold a short while, during that unforgettable moment when he and his wife had shared black master Olu's cock and then his cum, to realize how induced he now was towards blacks. Like his wife before now, he too had spent his entire life living in conservative England, pretending to be liberal outward while maintaining a strong line of bigotry in his heart, especially whenever he read the papers and became aware of the strong influx of immigrants flooding into the island, stealing jobs that weren't meant for them. It wasn't like he hated blacks ... just hadn't had anything to connect them with. But more than that, he preferred it when they simply kept to themselves while he too did likewise and remained on his side of the fence. But look at it now, the situation has undoubtedly changed for him and Becca. Prior to them setting foot in Nigeria, they were happy¬—or where they really? ¬—at least as happy as any couple could be. Now they were different.

Arnold sipped his beer at the same time pretended not to stare at the black man who was seated less than three feet from him. In his mind he envisioned how he was going to approach him. Should he be bold¬—walk up to him and just ask him straight out if he could escort him to his apartment and suck his black cock? No, that would be going all out. He decided to be subtle. He made like he was strolling past the man's table, then turned and glanced his way and smiled.

"Hi there," he said, waving a hand and then indicating at the nearly finished glass of beer the man was ********. "You look like you could use a refill."

The black man looked at his glass like he was surprised seeing his beer now at low level. "Could you imagine that," he said. "I thought was just of coming down here and having myself a single glass and then pushing off."

"Mind if I get you another?" before even the man could protest, Arnold had signaled one of the female waiters there to get both of them a second round.

He sat down and shook hands with the man, introducing himself as well. The man introduced himself as Abbey Williams. He worked as a junior contract staff for a multinational construction company tasked with expanding the key-side of the Onne jetty. Arnold felt himself warm up to the man's company. He seemed affable enough, and he was in his early-thirties and unmarried. What made him even better was that he seemed to have almost a similar build as master Olu. As the young man laughed at one of his anecdotes, he could help but wonder how big his cock might be. At that moment, a couple of white men were strolling towards the poolside with a couple of scanty-clad young black girls with them, frolicking together. The group went past their table; Arnold noticed the disgusted look on Abbey's face and was piqued by it.

"You don't like them?" Arnold cocked a thumb back at the group.

"You referring to the white men or just the women?" asked Abbey.

"The women."

"Nothing to be liked about them¬—they're fucking trailer-thrash sluts, and that's all they're every going to be."

"You're not married?"

Abbey sipped his beer and then refilled his glass. "Not even engaged to be. I'm still having fun being single."

"I thought you Nigerians tended to marry early? At least that's what one of my colleagues told me."

"Depending on if you've got a nagging family and have the means already," Abbey replied. "Down here the jobs are often hard to find, and the women can be hungry sharks in just the blink of an eye."

Arnold laughed. "But I thought you're having fun with them."

"Depends on the fun," said Abbey. "Sometimes it's like eating with the Devil¬—you just need to have yourself a long spoon. And anyway, I've got plans for the future."

"Such as?"

"Going abroad is one. I've been putting off getting involved in a Masters program for long. And also, I hear the women of Europe tend to be very easy with blacks, and I know once I'm there, give or take a couple of months, or even a year, I'll have something doing. Something that won't burden much of my spare time as the one I have down here."

"A job with less burden, and then with lots of women to screw and all the free time in-between, I'll bet."

"That's the problem down here¬—there's hardly any free time," he said. "And besides, Nigerian women are much too greedy. I keep thinking of just packing my bags right now and heading straight to Europe, or even the U.S, and settling down with a white broad there."

"That's a good dream," said Arnold, sharing his newfound friend's enthusiasm.

They sat there talking for what seemed a long while. When the hour got to seven, the young man got up and said he needed to be somewhere else. Though before he left, Arnold exchanged phone numbers with him and promised to be there at the poolside this same time to meet with him.

He went to the restaurant after Abbey had gone to get something to eat. Afterwards he stayed behind to share some beer and bonhomie with several Brits before returning to his apartment. He'd left his laptop on the table, connected to the apartment's internet modem. Prior to when he left the apartment, and since he arrived at the camp, he'd been surfing the web, visiting various interracial sites and sex forums to search out interracial videos as well as mingle with other white couples who too have suddenly found themselves become a part of the lifestyle. As he visited one of such sites, he clicked on their Cuckold section and found numerous uploaded videos of amateur wives and hubbies getting sexed by black gods. He searched out the one he figured appeared most promising to him and then clicked a button and sat back and waited while the video took its time to download fully into his system. The video was more of a group sex special¬: a husband and wife, both getting fucked by a trio of black men. Though what captured Arnold's gaze was the sight of their semi-erect cocks when they pulled them out of his jeans. Arnold too unbuttoned his shorts and pulled out his cock and gently began stroking it while watching as the husband and wife both bent over on the bed and offered their asses to the men as they took turns fucking them from behind. Arnold watched with excitement as the men smacked the hubby's face with their cocks, cursed at the same time jammed their cocks into his mouth almost the same time. His hand that was busy jerking his cock was gradually increasing speed and he realized he was starting to breath heavy. He watched as the black men took turns emptying their sac of cum into the wife's pussy and then pressing the hubby's head down her choochie (what he heard one of the black men refer to the woman's pussy as) for him to slurp every drop. It was about this time Arnold felt his body tense and then he grunted repeatedly as his cum shot out of his cock and splattered over his abdomen. He downloaded several more videos to watch afterwards while he went into the bathroom to clean up. Later that evening, his phone rang. It was Becca; from the excited way she was talking to him, it was obvious the master was fucking her.

He lay there in bed, listening to his wife's moans and high shrieks while his hand returned to his cock and went on stroking it. A smile was on his face while he did.

**********

Arnold gave his newfound friend, Abbey, a call the following morning and during lunch break they met at the camp's restaurant for lunch. Before they left they again made an appointment to meet at the poolside same time as before. Arnold was really looking forward to their next meeting, hopping that this time he would breach his arousal towards him. In anticipation, he visited the camp's supermarket and bought a bottle or Red Label along with some can beers which he took with him to his apartment before returning back to his office. When he got there he telephoned Becca to let her know of his impending action. His wife felt happy for him and encouraged him to go ahead with it. He as well tried calling Master Olu, except his line was busy.

Closing time at the office arrived and Arnold whistled to himself as he shut down his office computer, locked the door and then went outside and jumped into the waiting vehicle to take him back to the camp. He was still early for his meeting with Abbey whom he'd called before leaving his office to know if he too was going to make it. Abbey promised that he would. Arnold showered and then changed into a fresh pair of clothes then made himself a light meal before leaving his apartment and heading towards the poolside bar. He got there thirty minutes before Abbey was to come and join him, so he ordered himself a beer and sat on a table close to the pool, observing the evening sky and waiting. He was nearly done with his beer when he sighted his friend approaching from the poolside entrance, looking cool in a sleeveless outfit and jeans. They met and shook hands and sat down to talk for a while. It wasn't long before Arnold changed the subject.

"You ***** only beer?" he asked.

"Depends on if you have something else that's worth it," said Abbey.

"I have a bottle of Red Label that's cooling off in my fridge. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind cracking open the bottle with me."

"Lead the way and I'll follow."

They finished their *****s and then got up and left with Arnold leading the way down to his apartment. When inside, he offered Abbey a seat while he went towards the kitchen to see about the Red Label wine still cooling off in the fridge, along with two glasses. He returned to the living room and found his friend watching something in his laptop. Arnold then remembered that his web page was still at that interracial site that he'd downloaded those videos. But if he was any worried about his friend's reaction, the opposite was the case. Abbey seemed to be smiling at what he was watching. Arnold came beside him to see what he was looking at and wasn't surprised to find that he was playing one of the videos he'd downloaded the previous night. This one showed a white man being dominated by a black god. The white man, gaudily dressed up as a sissy, was crawling towards the seated black god. Coming to a stop before him, he begs the black god for his cock. The god mutters an answer and then the sissy reached for his hefty-looking cock, stroked some pre-cum out of it, before leaning forward to take it into his mouth. Arnold couldn't help feeling aroused from watching it once again, and this wasn't lost on his guest.

Abbey looked at him and smiled, and said: "This what you've been wanting to have since you met me?"

The ball was in his court. Arnold nodded and said, "I was going to think of a way to ask you—" he stopped, not knowing whether to say it out or not.

"Ask me what?"

Arnold swallowed before continuing, "If I could suck your big black cock?"

Silence for a moment, then suddenly Abbey burst into laughter. "You ever sucked a black cock before?"

"I have ... and since then I can't seem to get enough of it."

Abbey took the Red Label wine from his hand and opened it, then poured a good measure in his glass and sat down on a couch. "Well, how about you locking your door and then crawling your ass down here and whipping my cock out."

Arnold shook all over with excitement he was surprised his hand was shaking even as he went and turned the key in the apartment door's lock. He hurriedly took off his clothes and kicked them to the side. Abbey pretended not to notice as he reached for the TV's remote and flicked through the channels while sipping his *****. Arnold did like the sissy in the video and the look of happiness was in his eyes as he crawled across the living room towards his seated friend.

Abbey widened his legs and lounged back on the couch while Arnold worked his hands on the belt buckle and zipper of his jeans. Reaching a hand inside, he wrapped his fingers around a semi-erect penis. It slid out of the inside of his friend's jeans looking like a python with a purple circumcised knob for a head. Arnold came forward and kissed the trickle of pre-cum pouring out of the head before opening his mouth further to take in the black cock. Abbey pulled his jeans and shorts down his legs and Arnold lent him a hand with it, all the while having his cock in his mouth. Within seconds Arnold was digging himself into the work, slurping and licking his tongue around the length of Abbey's shaft as if it were a popsicle. Abbey took his cock from his hand and slapped it back and forth Arnold's face, staining his chin with saliva before giving it back to him to feed on. While he was sucking him, Arnold then remembered the instruction his master had earlier told him to do. He paused for a minute to get his cell phone from where he'd last left it and gave it to his friend and explained to him what he wanted him to do. Abbey took the phone and took several snapshots of Arnold's lips wrapped around his cock. Abbey's breathing was starting to grow heavy as he felt the steady impact of Arnold's cock on him. He began treating Arnold with some necessary roughness. He held his face up and spat into his mouth, shoved his face down on his erection till Arnold's nose was pressing down on his public region for a second or two before releasing him. Arnold too was loving it; he felt so alive sucking a black man's cock. An African man's cock, for that matter. To him, this was so enjoyable to licking his wife's pussy.

Abbey stood up from the couch and Arnold, still kneeling before him, had to move back for him to free his legs from his jeans. This time Abbey became rough with him. He held Arnold's jaws open and thrust his cock in and out of his mouth. Arnold made gagging sounds and copious saliva dripped off from his mouth.

"Go on take that black cock, bitch!" Abbey moaned at the same time fucked his mouth on and on. He had his phone in his hand and he recorded the event up till the moment when he shot his load all into his mouth. "Go on!" Abbey barked at him. ****** all of that African seed, white boy bitch! And you'd better not spill any drop."

Arnold did as instructed, his throat opened up as he swallowed down the Nigerian's semen. And he didn't spill any drop.

Abbey went to use his shower while Arnold waited for him to be done. He was sporting an erection at half-mast when he stepped out of the shower a couple of minutes later and began drying himself with Arnold's apartment towel. It was then that Arnold got a good view of his body.

"The fuck are you doing over there, white boy?" Abbey called out to him while still busy towelling himself dry. "You'd better get over here on the double and take care of this cock of mine."

Arnold went into the bathroom and knelt before him like before, and took his cock into his mouth and earnestly began sucking him.

Later that evening, Arnold sat in front of his laptop and having received his master's email address uploaded the snapshots of himself that he'd taken and mailed it to him. Done with that, he called him to let him know he'd succeeded in his quest.

"That's good to know, white boy," said master Olu on the phone. "I'll be seeing your ass tomorrow."

The phone went dead after that.

**********

At 2:36p.m, Eastern Standard Time, a Virgin-Nigeria local airline taxied into the runway that was the Port Harcourt International airport. It had taken only an hour's journey flight from Abuja to get here; that's less hours burned than if one would have decided to take a road trip from there. Amongst the deplaning passengers was a couple—a tall, broad-shouldered black man in a white turtle-neck shirt, jacket, and black jeans, with a white woman by his side. The white woman too wore a pair of jeans, blue, but what was more noticeable about her, what actually turned several heads to glance at their way as they strolled through the crowded lounge area, was the striking sight of her hair as she walked, along with the tantalizing figure of her jeans which seemed to gum every curve of her round bottom. She wore a tight sleeveless blouse and no bra. Folks noticed the way her breasts bounced with each step she took. She was wearing a pair of shades, just as the black man beside her was too, and they both held hands and walked with a purpose as the man navigated their way past the throng of pushing travelers and sight-watchers. A lackey marched before them, pushing their bags on a trolley towards the airport's exit doors. Outside, the man spotted a taxi and after negotiating with the driver, held the door open for the white woman to enter before joining her.

The taxi took almost an hour before it drove into the busy streets that was Port Harcourt. While they were stuck in traffic, the driver couldn't help making subtle glances at his rear-view mirror at the couple seated behind him. His eyes mostly concentrated on the white woman who was resting her head on the black man's shoulder with her hand still clasped on his. The driver could easily make out the outline of woman's breasts through her cloth and couldn't help but mutter a prayer to himself. God forbid—these white women are really something! Neither the couple seemed to notice the driver's staring eyes; even if they had, neither would they have cared, as they were both taking a light doze. He concentrated on his driving, stumping his palm on his horn as he made his way along the snail pace that was the easing traffic. Later on he took another brief glance at the couple and noticed now the woman wasn't holding the man's hand anymore. Now she was rubbing it on his thigh. That sent a signal travelling down the driver's spine and up his brain, bringing a sudden jerk in the crotch of his pants. He returned his eyes to what was happening in the lane before him but returned his eyes once more to the mirror, and kept watching the woman scratch her hand back and forth on the man's thigh yet both of them made as if nothing was happening. As he continued taking glances, the woman's hand shifted to the side and now was rubbing it against the bulge that was the man's crotch. The driver felt his jaw slacken and once again felt another jolt in his crotch. He adjusted his mirror away from the couple and decided instead to focus on his driving.

The traffic began to ease when they drove into Aba road and from there made their way towards the G.R.A district. The black man opened his eyes just when the driver was approaching the gates of the Protea hotel, where he had made reservation for a suite the previous day. He and the woman got down from the cab and he settled the fare with the driver just as someone came out of the hotel to take their luggage. Within minutes he had finished signing into the hotel and he and the white woman stepped into the elevator and rode up to the fifth floor where they room awaited them. The white woman took off her sunglasses when inside the room and went in search of the bathroom while the man tipped the porter after he'd left their luggage on the bed and locked the door behind him.

The black man then took off his glasses, unearthed his feet from his shoes, and threw his jacket on the bed before approaching the door of the bathroom. The white woman was still in there with her jeans pushed down her legs, taking a piss; she didn't have on any panties. She smiled when she saw who it was and even without saying a word, pulled the black man towards him and unzipped his jeans and reached a hand inside to unearth what she'd wanted while they'd been in the taxi feeling over his erection. She licked her tongue over the bulbous prick head of his cock and muttered a girlish giggle.

"I've been waiting all day for this," said Becca.

"I'll bet you have," laughed Olu, pushing a flock of hair off from her face. "Gone, keep sucking that black dick. Act like you want it."

That was exactly what she did. She licked the length of his shaft, from the head down to his balls before resuming to pack as much of his girth inside her warm wet mouth, moaning down in her throat while she did. His cock pulsed further into life as she kept on sucking him, dripping trails of saliva from the sides of her mouth. Olu pressed the back of her head towards him and jerked his back and forth, fucking her mouth some more. His hand dove into his jeans pocket and came out with his cell phone. He scrolled for a number and pressed the dial button. Becca loosened his belt buckle and undid the jeans and pulled it along with his boxer shorts down his legs to get a better choice of his thick cock. Olu held up his cock for her to get her mouth onto his balls while he held the phone to his ear, hearing it start to ring at the other end.

Finally the line got picked up and a voice said: "Good evening, master Olu."

Olu smiled. "How're you doing, white boy?"

"Fine, fine, master," came Arnold's reply. "Are you now in Port Harcourt?"

"Just checked into our hotel a few minutes ago. The wife's here with me. Here, speak with her."

He brought the phone to Becca's ear while she had one hand on his shaft and the other massaging his balls. She took her mouth off from his cock with a smacking sound and then spoke into the phone's receiver. "Hi there, honey."

"Hello, darling," said Arnold. "What're you doing? Sounds like you're up to something?"

"Of course I am, silly. I'm playing with the master's cock right now," she brought the phone closer to hear the sound of her mouth sucked on Olu's black pipe for a moment before returning to her husband. "Did you hear that?"

"Oh yeah I do. You've been having much fun, from the sound of it."

"Indeed I have been, honey. I can't seem to get enough fucking from the master. Last night we fucked out by his pool with his cock in my pussy and a dildo up my ass. It was totally wonderful, honey. I can't wait to tell you more about it. You've really been missing out on a lot since you've been gone."

Olu took the phone back from her and told her to get back to her sucking as he resumed talking to Arnold.

"So, white boy, I got your email last night. Very impressive that you didn't disappoint me. You gave that man's cock a good sucking, didn't you?"

"I very much did, master. Though his cock is nothing compared to yours."

Olu laughed. "Yeah, I'll bet. So when are you going to be free to come down here to see us? We're lodged at Protea Hotel over at G.R.A."

"I haven't been into Port Harcourt at all since I got here, but I'll ask my driver about it."

"Good. Let me know when you're coming. Talk to you later, white boy. Right now I've got to fuck this bitch wife slut of yours."

He disconnected the line and dropped his phone on the sink, turning now all his attention to the white woman who was still busy sucking his cock and stroking him at the same time. Olu had long mastered the technique of holding back his cumming when getting head. Though he moaned as Becca flicked and rolled her tongue over his glistening shaft, his couldn't feel any sudden need of cumming soon, and he liked it like that. He brought two fingers to the sides of her mouth and widened her lips and went on jerking his cock into her throat. Becca gagged her tongue on his shaft nearly endlessly. Olu was well abreast with keeping his sexual stamina when it comes to satisfying hot wives like this. The way they craved for his cock and for his cum, begging for it as if it were the world's most precious mineral besides diamonds. And in a way it actually was so.

He flushed the toilet for her and then picked her up and into the bedroom they went. He dumped her on the bed and pulled her jeans off from her legs and flung it across the room. He inserted two fingers into her cunt and began finger-fucking her harshly while his thumb rubbed against the surface of her clit. Becca flung her head sideways, back and forth, screaming with lewd wantonness at the explosion of ecstasy he was unleashing on her. Her face was twisted into an expression of raw delight and her body shuddered as a highball of orgasm crashed into her. Pussy juice squirted and jumped out of her cunt like splashing water as her master kept on fucking her with his fingers like a pile-driving rod. He took his fingers off, now glistening with her cum, and gave it to her to clean up, which she did with love. Her heart was still skipping beats from the climax she'd had as her lips now was coated with her love juice.

"Aww ... Ohhh master, please, I want your cock ... Oh God, I want your black cock!"

Her hand reached for his shaft and opened her legs and angled herself so he would be between them. Olu brought himself over her, balancing his knees on the bed's edge; his god-like cock slid into her wetness without so much as an effort from him. Becca's hands gripped his shoulders and she bit her lips from the contact as his shaft slid in further into her. Though she'd continuously been serviced with the pleasure of his cock almost on a daily basis, the feel of it always sent huge shockwaves travelling through her body. If she were being put on a spaceship and sent across the other end of the universe on light speed, she reasoned the feeling would be just as equal as this ... or maybe even more. Much, much more!

"You feel that cock, bitch!" he asked her.

"Ohhh! Ohhh, yes! Yes, master! GIVE IT TO ME MORE!"

She gave another shriek when she felt him thrust his cock another inch or two into her. Olu too had to gasp from the tightness of her pussy walls around his shaft. He rocked his ass side to side, wanting his cock to get more room inside, sending more shockwaves into her body. Becca's hands left his shoulders and grasped his muscled ass as he began pulling in and out of her. Her eyes stared with wide amazement as she gazed down between her legs and watched her master's black rod, now glistened with her pussy juice, disappeared in and out of her vagina. He began to pick up speed, slamming down on her hard; she felt his balls slap against her bottom each time he shoved his manhood inside her. Her face contorted into one of lascivious lust and hungry passion and her breathing became shallow and frantic with her moans.

"OHH MY GOD! OHHH MY GOD! DON'T STOP! MASTER, DON'T STOP!"

Olu dug his hands under her back and she held onto him as like before, he lifted her up from the bed and went on slamming his thighs against the bottom of her ass, feeding her hard with his cock. Feeling her slipping from him, he hefted her into the air and went and placed her against the far wall of the room. A wall painting fell to the floor beside them but neither of them cared. Olu balanced her ass between himself and the wall and went on fucking her like that. Becca still had her arms around his back, her breasts pressed against his chest; their lips sought each other and they kissed with *********** hunger. Olu's cock slipped out of her and still wedging her with his hands, he pushed her up on the wall till her pussy was nearly staring at his face. His strength was as amazing as was his stamina, the way he held her up like she weighted nothing more than a newspaper. He brought his lips to her cunt and lapped on it, flicking his tongue on her clitoris and pulling against its meaty flesh. Cum juice gushed out of her pussy and rolled down his chin and neck while his tongue kept on slobbering and licking through the nectar of her pinkness. Becca, whose legs now dangled from his shoulders, couldn't stem down her moans. Her hands caressed her master's head as her hips pushed and rolled her pussy towards his questing lips. She was still balanced over his face when another lightning bolt of orgasm wracked through her womb.

Her master brought her down from the wall and had her on the bed, on her arms and knees, and hunched himself over her back as he then thrust the head of his cock through the puckered back door that was her asshole. Becca squeezed the bed sheet with her hands and teeth and groaned aloud as her master took advantage of her second hole.

"UGHHHH ... AAHHHH-OHHH SHIIIITTTT!" she cried out. "Ohhh master!"

Olu leaned over her, pressed his hand on her back, making her stick her ass further up, and went on thrusting his cock inside her anal hole. He gasped and breathed thick air beside her ear. He reached a hand under her legs and rubbed her clit while at the same time fucking her ass. Becca felt her body slip into another uncontrollable urge to explode and eventually it did. She collapsed on the bed while her master went on pounding her ass. Olu afterwards pulled his cock from her asshole and returned it to her pussy and began to fuck her harder. Thick gobs of sweat dropped from his face and neck and splattered on her back like raindrops. He sat over her back and smacked her ass cheeks back and forth while still shoving his cock between her cunt. And when the moment came, he fell on top of her, his hands went under her and wrapped itself around her shoulder, grasping her tight, as he groaned aloud and felt his enriched sac of semen shoot like a cannonball inside her cunt, flooding her womb with millions of semen. Becca's head half raised from the bed and she gave another lasting shriek as she felt the abrupt invasion of his load and then dropped her face back on the bed. She had stopped keeping count of her period and it was her desire to get impregnated by her master.

Olu rolled off from her, breathing heavy as well, the muscles of his chest and abdomen rose up and down in line with his breathing; the room now bore the smell of sweat and cum, and raw fucking.

Becca lay there beside him for a moment, not daring herself to move an inch, wanting her body to absorb and digest this current bout of fucking. She could sense his sperm load floating inside her womb, becoming a part of her body system. How she desires having this feeling every hour of the day. Then there was the throbbing pain in her ass. Though it now was other than pain and more of sweetness. Her breath was gradually coming back to normal and she could feel her heart rate becoming low. She turned her head to the other side and swept her red hair off from her face to look at her master who still lay on his back, his eyes closed as if he were asleep though she knew he wasn't. How could a god like him ever fall asleep? She asked herself. She reached out her hand and caressed his chest, feeling the indelible beat of his heart under her palm. If ever I do get pregnant, she mused, I wish it turns out to be a boy. A black boy, just like his real ******, and he too will grow up to become a real man. She will bring him down here to meet his real ******, let his real ****** teach him everything there is to know about being an African, and then when he's grown up, he too will go out into the world and conquer other white women just as his ****** too had done with her. Her thoughts then went to her husband, Arnold. Yes, sweet, dear Arnold. He will make for a good ****** to her black ***. But no way will he ever equal to what her master is about. No white man would ever be equal to him.

She pulled herself over and laid her head on her master's chest, hearing the beat of his heart in her ears, rubbing her hand over every inch of his upper body. Her eyes looked down at his cock, resting aslant of his thigh. She was tempted to reach over and touch it. It was an urge she just couldn't resist and she licked her tongue across her lips as her fingers wrapped themselves around his cock and gave it a gentle stroke.

"You wanting something, woman?" her master muttered still with his eyes closed.

She came over and kissed his lips. "I was wondering if my master was a*****."

"Hmmm, you sure you were wondering, or was it as you noticed my eyes closed that you thought so?"

"I hope I didn't wake you up."

His eyes came open and he smiled at her. "You've got your hand on my cock, how could I be a***** with that happening?"

"I don't know. You've made be become so cock-hungry, I can't seem to get your black cock out of my mind. Almost every minute, it's all that I think about."

"I'll bet it's what Arnold too is thinking about right now."

"I could divorce him you know," she blurted, finally coming out with a nagging thought that's been in her head since she first got introduced to her master. "All you have to do is say the word, and I'll leave him."

"I don't want you to do that," he said matter-of-factly.

"Why not?" she raised her head to look at him. "I thought ... I thought it's what you'd want."

"No. What I want is you, but what I also want is your happiness. You're not going to have that if you leave him to be with me."

"But I m happy," she pleaded. "Right here, right now, I feel like I'm a different person from the woman you first met that day at your office. It's like I've changed."

"I know you have, and it's good for you." He turned on his right shoulder and held her hands in his. "First time I saw you, you were less than what you are today. You were less than a shadow of what you ought to be. But that's different now. Now, you're a proud white woman and a proud slave to my seed, and that's what I want you to be. Anything further from that and it'll put a damp in my mind for you, and I don't want for that to happen. Your master loves you too much to want that to happen to you."

"But wouldn't my master wish for me to remain by his side always?"

"He would, yes. But Arnold too needs you to be by his side, and I didn't come into this to get between both of you."

"What if it's what I want¬—to keep being with you?"

"You'll end up being unhappy, Becca. Not only that, you'll end up regretting it."

Becca felt hurt by his words. She turned around to face the other side of the bed, not wanting him to see the tears that were about to slip from her eyes. Olu reached for her arm and turned her over and kissed her.

"Don't cry," he said, and when that didn't work, applied a harsh tone to his voice. "Come on, I said don't cry, bitch!" he gave her cheek a light slap that seemed to drive home his seriousness. "You'd better ***** down those tears or else I'm going to get rough on your ass right now, girl!" he raised his palm about to strike her once again and Becca hurriedly brought her crying to a sudden stand still.

"I'm sorry ... I'm sorry, master." She *****d down on her tears. "I didn't mean to act sour ... just that I feel you're not going to want me anymore."

He got up from the bed, not saying a word, and went towards the door leading to the living room. Becca became afraid that she'd seriously offended him and was about getting up too, wanting to ask if anything was wrong. Olu turned, scowling, and pointed a finger at her and told her to remain where she was. Becca obeyed, and then he disappeared into the living room. He wasn't gone for long. He returned with a small box in his hand and he came and lay on the former place he'd been beside her.

"Let me see your ring," he said to her.

Becca gave him her hand which bore her sliver wedding band. Olu pulled the ring off from her finger and opened up the box he was carrying and took out a white-coated ring from inside. The ring bore some minute inscription and symbolism around it.

"The Yoruba god Shango during his lifetime had three wives," said Olu. "They were named Oya, Osun, and Oba. Of the three of them, his favorite was Osun, and one of his favorite colors was white, which is the reason for this ring." He slipped the ring through her finger. "This ring is my status symbol that links your heart with mine. You're to have it on you for as long as you're with me; when you're back in merry England, you can then decide to take it off and wear what Arnold gave you, but only if you wish. Before you leave, I'm going to teach you a lot about where I'm from, and also teach you how to cook some Nigerian cuisine, because that was one of the reasons why Osun was Shango's favorite. As long as you're with me, and you're wearing my ring, consider yourself married to me."

Becca was speechless. She rubbed her finger over the ring looking as if she was spellbound by it. For a minute she couldn't find the words to say to express what she deeply felt inside for her master, her lover. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and fell upon him with kisses.

"Oh master!" she purred. "I'm so in love with you, master!"

Olu laughed, trying to stem down her kisses. "That's what you ought to have said instead of crying."

"I'm sorry I did that, really I am. I was just afraid you weren't going to need me anymore."

He held her back. "Nonsense. You're here with me right now, that speaks for something. And besides, this is just the beginning. I've still got plans for your adventure."

"Really? I'm so excited. Mind giving me a hint?"

"Uh-Uh, no. I don't give hints, only surprises. And besides, I wasn't lying before when I said that you're going to spread the word more about your master and of what he's capable of to other white women out there. There's a whole sea of white women out in the world who too are just as brainwashed as you once where. A lot of them do want to experience what the black man has got to offer, but society and the background in which they live in is what's scaring them from acting out on their fantasies. You're going to change some of that. Next time you return to Nigeria, with or without Arnold by your side, you're going to bring along some white girls with you. Don't care if they're your sisters, cousins, or neighbors. You're going to bring them here and introduce them to what I've introduced you to. You think you're going to be up for that?"

She looked at him with surprise in her eyes. To Becca it was like being given the Holy Grail and tasked with taking it back to the Holy Land. It was an offer she would never dare herself to let go of. Who was she to refuse her master?

"Your wish is my demand, master," she kissed him. "Anything you want of me, I promise to give."

"That's good to know and hear, my darling. It's why I don't ever want you to leave Arnold. Believe me, I'll be hurt if I hear that you have."

"I won't leave him, that I promise you." She came and laid her head on his chest. But I will do so without hesitation if ever you should ask me to, she mused to herself, though she didn't dare say it out. She looked at her ring one more time before returning her head to her master's chest and falling a*****. Though just before the ***** took her away, a throbbing thought echoed through her mind: If it comes to me making a choice between the master and Arnold, whom would I REALLY choose?

**********

At 5:16p.m., a blue Pajero jeep drove into the gates of the Protea Hotel. The occupant parked the vehicle in the area marked for visitors and then got out. The woman was tall and dark-skinned, though she was more light chocolate. Her hair was done in a similar style as that of the R n B singer Rihanna. She was wearing a leather outfit and black skirt with knee-length black boots with a handbag hanging from her shoulder; a pair of sunglasses sat on her nose, and her hands were shielded in a pair of black gloves. As she walked into the hotel's open doors, an aura of feral sexual enticement seemed to trail along with her, the way she walked like a lioness comfortable in her terrain of jungle. Several faces hovering about the lobby turned to glance at her direction but neither thought of approaching her; the look on her face seemed to dissuade anyone from trying. Even the young man who acted as concierge for the day seemed to nearly lose his stride when she came towards his desk and enquired about the occupants of Room 762. She already knew who would be up there as she was being expected.

Into the elevator she went and rode to the top floor. She arrived at her destination less than two minutes later after which she walked down the corridor to the room door she sought. She knocked on it and folded her arms across her chest and waited. A voice could be heard from the other side of the door yelling: "Coming!" A key turned in the door and then it came open to reveal the occupant inside—a pretty red-haired white woman wearing nothing but a towel that was wrapped across her chest. The happy look that was apparent on the white woman's face immediately died off when her pair of eyes took in the figure of the black woman who right now mysteriously stood before her door staring back at her. A minute seemed to pass between them with neither exchanging any word till finally the white woman became impatient.

"Yes, may I help you?" asked Becca Coltrane.

Becca had fallen asleep on her master's chest and had woken up less than two hours later surprised to not find him there. She looked in the living room and bathroom and he wasn't there either. Then she found the note he'd left her lying on the bed's headboard. It simply said he'd gone out to look into some things and that he would be back hopefully in a short while and for her to make herself comfortable till then. She felt a bit saddened and empty not finding him around, and it was more so because she'd woken up with a feel of horniness creeping up on her. Searching inside her bag, casting clothes aside, she took out her sliver-coated vibrating dildo and lay back on the bed, legs open, and went about fucking herself with it. Her hands massaged her tits while she moaned softly from the dildo's touch; in her mind's eye she felt it was her master feeding her with his black cock. How she wished she could get herself a sizeable dildo around, one that probably measured up to the girth of her master's cock ... if ever she would be lucky to stumble across on down here. She knew if she were back home, such would be very easy to find. This one she had tended to remind her so much of her husband's penis. She had no other choice than to manage it. It felt good though and she did arrive at a comfortable orgasm a few minutes later, though it was nothing comparable to when she was getting pleasured by her master's.

Done with that, she got up and began putting her clothes away inside the wardrobe. She did the same to her master's clothes, putting his and her toiletries away inside the bathroom. That done, she decided it was time she took a shower.

Becca had just finished taking her bath and was toweling her hair when she heard a knock coming from the apartment's door. Her first thought was that it was her master returning. She yelled out "Coming!" and hurriedly finished with what she was doing in the bathroom before rushing past the living room for the main door. She got a surprised shock when she opened the door and instead of seeing her master standing there—her hand went to the towel wrapped around her chest and she was just about to loosen and then flung it off her body for him to get first viewing of her body that she was keeping solely for him—there was a black woman standing there, looking like someone who'd just stepped out of some hip-hop video, staring back at her through a pair of sunglasses that made her features seem sort of cold. She was still wondering who this mysterious woman could be when she asked her: "Yes, may I help you?"

"Yes, you may," the black woman replied, taking off her sunglasses and dropping it inside her handbag. "Is your master around?"

Becca was about to say, "No, he's not—" then she drew herself to a halt. How could this woman know about such? "Excuse me, may I first ask who you are?"

"You may." The woman, in a whirl of surprise, grabbed Becca by the throat and propelled her backwards into the apartment. Becca was totally caught off guard and could only mutter a squawk of surprise as the woman's fingernails tightened like sharp claws on the flesh of her throat. She tried fighting her off but her attempts were hardly a match to break off the woman's grip. The woman kicked the door close with the back of her leg, let go of her handbag from her shoulder, and marched Becca backwards towards the direction of the bedroom. Becca tried screaming for the woman to get her hand off her, but her words came out in a gargle.

"My name is Nneka," said the black woman who then pushed Becca to fall on her back on the bed, unfurling the towel from her body. The black woman fell on her, pinning her down to the bed so she couldn't move, and then bent her face close to hers. The woman ran a red-coated finger down Becca's chin. "But you may call me Oba. I'm your master Shango's second wife. And I think it's about time you and I get ourselves properly reacquainted."

Becca felt powerless to fight back, it was like being with the master the first time he'd subdued her and her husband. There was something dangerous about this black woman that she was afraid to cross. Still there was something grossly sexual about her. It was like was a prey caught under the claws of a versatile predator. Amazingly, it made her become suddenly wet.

The black woman brought one of her gloved hand to her mouth and pulled her hand glove off from it. She sat upright over Becca and reached her hand backwards to feel Becca's cunt which was just starting to gush. Becca gasped from her touch, and instinctively rubbed her thighs together over the woman's hand. Nneka smiled wickedly at her.

"Hmm, is that something wet I'm feeling between your legs, or are you just happy to see me?"

She drove her finger into Becca's cunt and began fucking her like that. Becca's breathing went from being normal to being shallow and heavy in less than a few seconds as the mysterious woman's finger was digging deep into her, grazing her G-spot. Becca instinctively began grinding her hips up and down, wanting to get as much building excitement that she could. Her pussy juice kept gushing out of her, staining the woman's fingers who then withdrew it and gave it to Becca to lick clean, which she did, moaning in her throat while she did. How she so much loved the taste of her cum like she would gobble an ice cream.

Nneka's eyes around the bed for whatever thing she could find, and then her eyes fell on the silver dildo Becca had earlier been using on herself. She reached for it and then half turning her back, inserted the dildo into Becca's wet cunt. She was an expert the way she fucked Becca's pussy with the dildo, not ******* it all the way inside but rather rubbing it first around her labia walls, playing its vibrating tip against the surface of her clit, before sinking it deftly inside her. This sent Becca climbing up the wall and she had to steel herself from not wanting to cum too soon, but even that was seeming like a burden to hold onto. She desperately wanted to cum, and fast, but at the same time she wanted very much to savor the feeling she was having right now. She grasped the Nneka's arms and gave a sharp, convoluted cry as she felt the pound of orgasm coursing through her body, coursing like an abandoned forest fire, making her shudder all over. She could feel the orgasm course all the way to her brain, firing up her cells, and she managed to push herself up from the bed, nearly throwing Nneka off her.

"Ohhh! Awww-Ohhh ****! Ohh fuck!" she cried out over and over till it gradually began to fade away, bringing her back down to earth with shimmering ecstasy. "Oh God! I never thought I'd stop getting it any better!" she mumbled incoherently.

"Well, don't get too caught up in the excitement, bitch!" the black woman called Nneka hissed at her. "I'm yet done with you."

Nneka came off her and began stripping herself of her clothes, revealing to Becca the apparel she had underneath. She was naked underneath, except for pairs of slim black belts tied across her body, making her look like a soldier from some future apocalypse project. She had one belt tied across her long neck, another across her torso, just above her pair of jaunty breasts with dark brown areolas and a pair of standing nipples. Two other belts were tied across her abdomen and then two more across her thighs, turning her into a perfect black mistress. Becca couldn't help but ask herself where on earth her master would have stumbled across such a beautiful creature as this one? She sat there unmoving, watching with open eyes and mouth as Nneka, a.k.a Oba, went into the living room and returned with her handbag which she'd dropped on the floor earlier. Becca couldn't help admiring the sight of her cute round bottom, the way each ass cheek seemed perfectly shaped to the rest of her body. Everything about her was well proportioned to her chocolate skin. And another thing Becca couldn't help but notice was that she didn't seem to bear any stretch marks on her body at all. Amazing. Such a beautiful creature she was, she thought to herself as she felt a hand down her pussy, feeling herself growing further wet than before. Though she'd never before had the experience of making love to a fellow woman, but if ever there was a first time for her to try out such, she was grateful that it would be this.

Nneka reached into her handbag and pulled out a man-sized dildo from it. The one was black in color, and it had almost the exact make and texture of what a dildo should resemble from a black cock. The sight of it brought immediate memories to Becca as Nneka waved it before her.

"Do you recognize the size?" she asked her. "This is your master Shango's cock. He had this specifically done for him a year ago when he was on a diplomatic trip to Germany. Everything thing about it fits exactly to his cock," she ran her tongue over the dildo's knob-shaped head. Becca couldn't help mimicking what she was doing. "Almost everything I use the dildo on myself. I can't begin to tell you the wonderful orgasms I derive from it. It's a hundred times better than that silly stick you use on yourself. Believe me, I can fuck my pussy on this dildo from now till Sunday, and it feels almost like the real one. Though I'll admit, nothing beats the real one. You've got to feel a superior black cock to know what it's really about."

Becca left the bed and came over to touch the dildo. She thought she could sense a pulsing energy coming from it, like it was vibrating with life. Or perhaps it was merely her pussy trying to communicate with the dildo, explaining to her just how bad it wanted to be fucked by it.

"I'd sure like to get a feel of it," she licked her lips.

"And you will," asserted Nneka, who then grabbed her hair and brought her to the bed. "Assume the position," she barked at her. "On your arms and knees, bitch!"

Becca obeyed without delay. She reached a hand between her legs to finger herself but the black woman slapped her hand away.

"No touching yourself till I say so!" she came round to the other side of the bed, facing Becca and holding the dildo just inches from her face, teasing her with it. "You want to get a taste of this dildo, don't you, you white bitch!" she spat the words at her. Becca was so hungry for want of that black dildo she nearly felt like dying.

"I want it," she groaned. "I want it so bad ... so very bad."

"You sure about that, bitch? You'd better answer now or keep shut once and for all."

"Uhhh, I want my master's dildo cock," Becca pleaded. Hers was the voice speaking both for herself and her pussy as well. "I want it soooo very much!"

Nneka gave her a cruel smile. "Very well then. Let's see you open those lips of yours, white bitch. Stick out your tongue and let's give you a taste. If you can handle that then maybe I just might change my mind and fuck you with it."

Becca's mouth fell open and out came her tongue, flicking it in the air as if urging for the dildo cock to come to her. Nneka brought the knob head of the dildo towards her and Becca's tongue made contact.

"Go ahead and suck it, bitch!" said the black woman, who then thrust the dildo into Becca's mouth.

Becca took in the formidable head of the dildo as if it were her master's cock she was sucking. The dildo was her master's size alright, and just like when she's sucking his cock, she could barely get her mouth over half the length of the dildo's shaft. Still she didn't give up. She widened her jaw as much as she could and kept on nodding her head, ******* her mouth steadily on the dildo, giving ever bit of it sloppy seconds. All the while, the black mistress kept urging her on.

"Go on suck that dildo, white bitch! Suck it as if you want it ... as if you haven't been fucked by the master's cock before ... yeah, suck it ..."

Becca felt invigorated by her words and kept on slobbering and licking every inch of its shaft. When Nneka figured she'd had enough, she pulled the cock from Becca's mouth and ordered her to remain as she was. Becca kept on being in the doggy position and watched as the black mistress walked around the bed behind her. She sensed what was about to happen and the anticipation flooded her every nerve cells as she began to wiggle her buttocks up and down, while pussy juice poured out of her pink labia opening. Nneka came up on the bed and sniffed Becca's pussy.

"Damn, white girl! You're so wet for this cock, I see." She licked her tongue up and down Becca's wet cunt.

Becca's face squeezed ************* as if she'd just been torched with lighted match stick, and she released a screeching moan while the black mistress went on perusing her pussy with his tongue. Nneka made Becca push her face down on the bed, sticking her ass up, and spread her ample buttocks with her hands and went on munching through her pussy like it was taffy. Becca gripped the bed sheets and howled with delight at what the black woman was doing to it; her feet beat a rhythmic drum on the bed while the rest of her body shook with fervor. This is almost like getting eaten and fucked by the master. Nneka went on pushing her nose deep into Becca's pussy zone while at the same time lapping her lips and tongue over her clitoris. Thousands of incendiary bombs went on in Becca's heart and mind, culminating in another vicious orgasm. One she was hardly able to resist and yet was highly welcoming.

"OHHHH SHIIIITTTTT!" she raised her head from the bed and shrieked aloud her anguish. "OHHH MY GOD! WOWW! I'm gonna faint ... Oh my God, I'm gonna faint!"

Except she didn't.

Nneka pulled her cum-covered face from her ass and grabbing Becca's hair, turned her face around to look at her. "Lick your cum off my face, bitch!" she said to her.

Becca lapped her tongue over the black mistress's face, licking up ever spot of her juice that was on the woman's chocolate skin. When she was done, the mistress held her face and shoved her tongue down her throat in an arrogant, yet lascivious manner. While they kissed, the black mistress's hand dug into her pussy and went on finger-fucking her badly. Becca couldn't help but moan from the contact, even though her lips were still covered with that of the mistress's.

"Alright, now go back to the position and feel this dick!" the mistress ordered her.

Becca resumed her former position, this time her body tensed in anticipation for the dildo. Nneka thrust the dildo's head into her anxiously awaiting virgina and Becca just about exploded from it. The dildo's head did fill up her cunt. Surprisingly she cried out for more, and likewise the black mistress began fucking her steadily with it. Within moments, her pussy walls tightened around the dildo and began milking it with her juice a. Nneka thrust the dildo's shaft halfway into her pussy and slapped Becca's ass and told her to fuck back. Becca resumed wiggling her ass as she'd done earlier, and found it just as relaxing and sensuous now that her cunt was taking the dildo with ease. She'd never had a dildo this big before, and more than that, she'd never found herself being fucked by someone one using a dildo on her. In a tiny part of her mind, she wondered what some of her friends back home would think when she returned to tell them about this event. Would they envy her, or would they cringe inside at the thought of being manhandled by a black African mistress? Yes ... yes, they would cringe. Neither of them would ever envision the pleasures of being supervised like this ... not unless they were worthy to have a try. And for that, Becca considered herself luckier than most.

She was groaning heavily and she could barely hear herself breathing. She felt a wet tongue between her legs and looked down between her legs to see the black mistress lying on her back under her and still fucking her with the dildo while at the same time eating her pussy. The pleasure was double and sky-rocketing Becca to the infinite.

Nneka let go of Becca's clit with a smack and said, "You going to cum any moment, bitch!"

"Ohh yeah ... oh yeah," Becca moaned.

"Then cum," said the mistress, who now intensified thrusting the dildo in and out of her cunt while still keeping her lips glued to Becca's clit. "Cum for mummy, bitch! Cum for me!"

Less than a minute later, Becca did cum.

**********

Becca did pass out from the climax she had though couldn't tell for how long. It couldn't have been that long though as she first heard what sounded like a shower running and then flicked her eyes open and noticed the bathroom door was open. Her eyes stared out the window and noticed the sky outside was gradually turning dark; she didn't have her watch close by to know what the time was. She remained where she was on the bed for more than a minute, unable to move an inch. There was still a throbbing sensation in her pussy and she was starting to wonder what could have made such—had the master arrived some time ago and fucked me in my ************ her eyes roamed the side of the bed in front of her and she smiled when she saw the familiar features of the black-shaped dildo. She pulled it towards herself and caressed it as if it were a long lost toy. She replayed back the exquisite tape of the black mistress fucking her with it, and just the memory recall brought a curling smile to her lips. Truly the black mistress had been right when she said it was almost like being fucked with the real thing ... however, nothing could ever beat the real thing. As she lay there she imagined herself getting fucked by the master and the mistress at the same time. She closed her eyes and in her wildest fantasy imagined the master and the mistress with the dildo in her hand exchanging places at the same time—one fucking her pussy while the other taking her ass ... and who knows, maybe having someone else too to join in the fun. Someone whose cock she would be sucking while the master and the black mistress went on deflowering her. It was something to think about, and she knew that in time she would propose it to both of them to try it out on her.

The sound of the shower died off and then came a humming sound like someone singing to herself. A shadow stepped out of the bathroom and there stood the black mistress drying her nakedness with a towel. Becca couldn't help but still be captivated by her beauty, and it was even more evident with her now looking natural. Nneka noticed the look she was getting and couldn't help but smile while she stood there at the bathroom doorway cleaning herself up.

"What's got you smiling there, Becca?" she asked.

"I thought you didn't know my name," she said.

"Of course I do, silly. Why wouldn't I when Shango's told me all about you. And also it's more obvious as you're now wearing his ring just like I am as well."

"Are there others women you think who're wearing the same ring too?"

Nneka shrugged. "Wouldn't know and not for me to care either. Sure, he likes to fuck around. I wouldn't be surprised if there're others right now wishing the same thing that we are."

"Tell me, are all black women as gorgeous as you are?" Becca couldn't help but ask.

"Why? Haven't you met any where you're from?"

"Sadly, I haven't. I'm not racist though ... just never gotten the will to—"

"I know what you mean, you need not explain yourself. It's like being down here, it's not every time one gets to run into a white girl every day. At least not an honest one like yourself."

"I don't follow what you mean."

Nneka gave her an amused look. "Lots of white men come down here year after year, a lot of them are expatriate workers that work for the oil companies. Many of them can't help wanting to get a taste of the black experience. It's something they've been harboring from back home, just that they're too scared over there to act on it. You know, wanting to get their first taste of black pussy, especially an African one. A lot of them act shy about it, so they figure here's where they can get loose without folks back home condemning them over it. Some of them are alright, but a lot are nothing but arrogant bastards."