SHE FINALY DID IT THIS TIME …….MY POOR SUB
Prologue
This is a TRUE story. This is NOT a TRUE story that someone made up in his momma’s bedroom or basement or by someone whose only “true stories” comes from masturbating to pictures of financially destitute teens who let fat/bald men push needles into their nipples for a few dollars. This is actually a TRUE story, that’s the best part of it and it just happened last Saturday night, today is Monday morning, and I’m going to write this down before I forget any of the “juicy” details.
The Prologue’s Prologue
Right now, I’m
working in
Also, I have a
severe lesbian fetish, more specifically, a lesbian S&M/B&D fetish. Growing
up in the
My girlfriend/sub, we’ll call her A, has been very amicable toward my newest fetish. She has bought me a few black girl porn magazines and mailed them. She even found and bought me a few DVD’s, one interracial lesbian, Lesbian Swirlfest #6, one all black lesbian B&D Smack ‘dat Ass, and one pretty good interracial lesbian S&M movie, Den of Submission #2.
Well, our S&M phone sex has been including A getting dominated by another woman, more specifically, a black woman. And to her credit, she has played along quiet well. As she is beating on her own clamped tits, she has been doing things like pretending a black dominatrix was doing it, injecting phrases like, “OH NO! Please stop, Mam. This white slut can’t take any more! Please Mam! I’ll be a good white slut! Sir, she’s beating on my pink nipples, they are hot and red. She is taking her dark fingers and pulling my nipples. Oh, she is …………”.
Probably the best one was when she took the nipple chain, wrapped it around the cell phone, pulled it as hard as she could and I got to listen to her get pulled around her trailer by her nipples as she gasped and moaned, and then shouted at herself, “Bitch! Fucking white slut! Move your fat white ass!” And even louder, “AAAhhhhh! Move your white ass bitch! AAAAAahhhhhhhhhh! Faster cunt!! AAAhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!” Goddamn!
But I think we did it one too many times. The last time we talked and did some phone S&M, and it was time for the black girl, Ebony (our made up name) to beat on her and call her “White trash whore”, A got a little upset. Oh, not over the “White trash whore” thing, she likes that, but she started to complain, “Do we have to do that again? Aren’t I enough for you? I’m beating myself for you, over and over. What? Do you want to fuck black girls now instead of me?” And it totally ruined the phone call, and got us both pissed off.
We didn’t talk for a few days. I thought she was pissed off at me. I was a little upset and kind of worried I pissed her off too much and ruined a good thing, and kind of upset that I was really focusing on the interracial thing and not so much on her. So I was going to wait a few days to call again. Maybe try to get her off a few times without the “other woman” fetish.
So I gave her a Sunday night phone call, which is her Sunday morning. Sometimes her daughter is away in the morning, and we can have some kinky conversations. However, nothing could have prepared me for what she told me. I have never heard her so upset, pissed off, and frustrated before. And it was all my fault, she told me. “Well,” she said, “I hope you are happy. I’m so stupid. I got tired of hearing you talking about me and a black girl so much. And I thought, what the hell, if that is what you want to see, and it means so much to you, then maybe if I do something then you won’t talk about it anymore. Shit! I’m so confused.”
Then she told me what happened Saturday night.
SHE FINALLY DID IT THIS TIME……….MY POOR SUB
PART 1
What I’m going to do is try, as closely as possible, to write down exactly what A told me happened Saturday night. I’ll try to use her exact words, and not embellish on the events, well, like, I really don’t have to embellish anything on this one. And I’ll try to present it verbatim, humiliating word by arousing word, until I get to the point where we are today.
(*NOTE* I really have mixed feelings about this whole thing. On one hand, it is the single most arousing and kinky thing my sub has ever done, and certainly the most humiliating. I would kiss her, if I was back in the states, and pin a purple heart through her nipple for bravery for this one. However, on the other hand, I’m rather angry about it and ashamed about my initial arousal. Part of me says, “I should start to sweat and shake from resignation over what happened, and how my sub was taken advantage of and “abused”. The other part of me is says, “I should start to sweat and shake from arousal at what happened, and how my sub was taken advantage of and abused.” But it is making my cock swell right now just thinking about it. And it is one of the singularly most sexy heart-hammering-in-my-chest experiences that I would gladly pay a large sum of money to see/watch. If there was a DVD release of my subs Saturday night, then I would buy it, at almost any price.)
This is what my kinky, white, big-assed sub A told me happened to her last Saturday night.
“I don’t know where to start. I am pissed off at you. And me. Well, this was my fault but it’s yours too. Don’t make me think it is all my fault. Oh shit. I may have to move. I don’t know what to do now. I’m in so much trouble right now. Tell me it’s your fault too.”
(I had no idea what she was talking about, but I assured her it was my fault too, whatever it was.)
“I’m so embarrassed. I’ve been trying not to think about it, but, I ……….it’s just that I………(sniff)……….I let………(sniff)………”
(And she started to sob. Not cry, but sob. And I felt really bad. I don’t know what she did, but whatever it was it involved something kinky and I had some intuition that it involved a black girl, but that was too much to hope for. Maybe she was crying because of something else?)
“Well, I got pissed off last week at you. I know I’m not the best looking woman in the world. And you know how I’m embarrassed about my weight and my big ass. And I’m trying to get slimmer. And you are so good to me and you’ve treated me better than anyone in my life. I’d be so lost without you. And I try to keep you interested in me. And I do everything that I can for you, you know that. And if I had a killer body like those girls in those movies, your ass wouldn’t ever leave this bedroom, let alone this country.
But I just felt kind of bad, like I let you down. You are so far away, and I’ll do what I can to keep you thinking about me and keep your mind off those skinny little Asian girls. So I made up my mind to give you what you want. You are my man. I am your bitch, Sir M. And if my sir wants to see me with a black girl, then I guess that I have to do it.”
(From feeling guilty to a rock hard cock in seconds.)
(What? What happened? You didn’t do something with a black girl? Did you? No way!)
“Do you remember my friend from work, Chantel. (Yeah.) And you remember that a few months ago she was the one that went to the sex toy party with me. (Yeah.) Remember, that is where I got the heat-up lotion and the sex-dice? (Yeah.) Well, I told you that she moved into the trailer, not next to me, but two trailers away. (Uh.)
We’ve sort of become friends. Sometimes she rides to work with me. And sometimes we talk about sex, you know girls. (Like what?) She likes it from behind and she even told me that she was spanked one night by a guy. (White guy or black) Black. But that is about all.
Well, I was pissed off at you and pissed off at me. (I’m sorry about that …I wanted to …) I mean it is just us playing on the phone, right?, I’m really not getting beat by black girls, so why was I so upset? Kelly (her daughter) was out for the night, I was feeling lonely and I just decided to get a good drunk on.
The more I drank,
you know, Kaluha and vodka, the madder I got. But not mad at you, mad at me. I
was so pissed off and lonely I was just going to sit there and have a good cry.
Then there was a knock at the door. I looked at my watch. It wasn’t 12 yet,
about
You would like her, she is a pretty black girl, and she comes from mixed parents, her mother was white I think. Anyway, she comes over (What was she wearing), she was wearing the usual, a bra-less tank top and cut-off jean shorts and flip flops. Like I said, you would like her. (What did she want?) She came over to bring me back some DVD’s I loaned her. She apologized for coming over at night, and just wanted to bring them back and she wanted to borrow a few more.
(Did you let her in?) Yeah, she came in. (Did you change clothes?) No. I was already feeling a little tipsy, and she has come over before and I was wearing my house robe. (Really?) Yeah. Anyway, we started to talk a little. And I was feeling a little lonely, and well, I thought it was a good idea to have some company, so I asked her if she wanted a drink. (No!) Yeah. And she said yes. She was feeling a little lonely too. She broken up with her boyfriend a week or two before and she was still recovering from it. (Was she the black girl, down the street, who was pissed at the white girl next door for “stealing her man”?) Yep, that’s her. (Do you still talk to the white one?) Yeah. Sometimes, but we’re not really good friends. I keep seeing all kinds of cars at her house. She really might be turning tricks. (Great.) Yeah, just what the neighborhood needs. And she’s not that pretty. Anyway, …
So I mixed us both two good strong drinks. She likes to drink, but she wasn’t used to that combination and she started to get drunk. (Drunk?) Well, not drunk, but feeling really good. So we had another and another. You know me on vodka. I started to get a little loud, and brave and then we started to talk about sex. (No way!) Yeah, by then the movie I was watching was over, so we turned on the radio. (What station?) She wanted to hear WILD 106.5, rap and hip hop. (oh-oh)
I still can’t believe I did this. But, I started to get a little braver and braver. And we were talking about sex and I mentioned about what we do. (What!) Well, not everything, but some things. Like the long sex nights, and spankings and ….. (And?)…..and some S&M stuff. (No way!) Yeah, I told you I was getting drunk and you know me. (Yeah.) And she ….. (Wait. You told her about S&M stuff, like what?) Like about the box of toys and some of the things in it. (No way!) Yeah. I did. She was kind of surprised, not shocked, we talked at work and stuff, but kind of surprised and curious. (Curious?) Yeah, she has heard about things like that but never seen things like that before. And she started to ask me questions about it. (Like what?) Like, so you like it? What’s it like? How long have you been doing it? Does your boyfriend like it? And I told her about you. Yeah, it’s fun and it really gets you off. And I told her that I wasn’t into it before I met you and on our first date we had sex and you spanked me. (Really?) Yeah. (Wait a second. You didn’t take out the box did you?) Just wait. We were getting drunk, and then, I don’t know why, but my tongue was loose and I just let it slip about what we do on the phone. (Our calls?) Yeah, I told her about those and how you make me do things to myself and you like to hear me and then ……(There is more?)…..yeah, then I told her about some of the pics you had me send to you. And I don’t know why! Yes I do. I was still pissed off and drinking vodka. And I told her about your white and black lesbian thing. (No!) Yeah. (You didn’t tell her about the Ebony thing?) Yes I did.
I was getting really brave and still pissed, and I told her that you get turned on by hearing me pretend to be a sub to a black girl. She was shocked. (I’m shocked.) She said, “Girl. You is so crazy!” And we talked about it a little more. And I told her about the clamps and the “oh no mam, no more, please” things. (What?) She laughed and thought we were both crazy. (The foot licking?) Oh no, but some of the bondage stuff and leaning over the couch, while your favorite movie is playing (Which one?), oh you know, the black girl beating on the two white girls and …(Woah.)…and turning up the volume on the TV and beating my ass and ….(Baby, wait a second. Stop for a moment. My heart is beating too fast. Let me catch my breath a…shit…my hands are shaking.) Oh you ain’t heard anything yet. (Wait…*deep breath*..OK…)
And then I told her how I was pissed off at you and me. And we didn’t speak for a week, and how I’m going to send you some kinky pics, and use my cell phone to make them. We were both laughing, and by then we were drunk and we were both starting to slur our words a little. “I ain’t never heard of no’thin like that befo’”, she said. And we both laughed harder.
I don’t know what possessed me, I got my purse and I took out the cell phone and showed her how I have to hold it to take the pics. Then we laughed even harder. I would show her different angles, and the harder the angle the more we would laugh. And I told her how I was going to get drunk and take a few more for you. And I was drunk, and the music was loud and I said, “Hey, keep it a secret but could you take some pics for me?” (No fucking way!) Yes I did. I was drunk. (What did she say?) She was shocked at first and didn’t know what to say. Then she said, no. (Really?) Yeah. But then we started to talk about it a little more. I told her I was going to put on your favorite movie…(Which one?)….you know, the one with the black girl beating on the white girl….(Oh, that one)….in the background, and take a few pics. I was going to change clothes, put on something sexy, and take them. (What did she say?) She said that I was a “crazy girl” but she thought it was great that we could play those kind of games. And I asked her again if she would take some of the pics, and she acted really reluctant, but then she took a drink, looked at me and said, “OK. But don’t do anything weird. But I’ll take a few for you.”
(Holy shit! No way!) Yes, way. We laughed about it and I went back into my bedroom to change clothes. I was feeling so brave until I stripped and put on my black lingerie and took out the box of toys and started to walk out of my bedroom. I just froze in the hall. Oh my God! What am I doing? But I’m doing it for my man, so I took a deep breath and ……(Were you nervous? Were your nipples hard?)…oh yes, they were hard and my heart was beating and I was really nervous. And between my nerves, and the liquor I was starting to sweat. I opened the door and started to walk into the front room and I saw her sitting on the couch. She saw me in my lingerie and I just backed up into the bedroom.
“Girl, what you doing back there! Come on befo’ I go back to da’ crib! Let’s take some pics for yo’ man.” And I just thought, what the hell, now or never, and so I walked out, carrying the box in my arms. It was ratteling with chains and stuff, “Girl, yo’ is looking wild. What’s in the box?” So I sat on the couch next to her and put the box down between us. It’s our box of toys, I said. “Girl, open it up.” And I did.
(No!) Yes. I let her look through our box. She freaked out on most of the stuff. (Like what?) Like everything, the paddle, crop, and clothespins. “Girl, what do you do with these?” She asked me. He puts those on my nipples. “No, girl, you is bad!” And then she started to play with the nipple clamps on the chain, the ones with the bells and weights. “Girl, what about these?” Yes, he makes me wear those too, and crawl around the floor. “Girl, you really is crazy!” And we were both laughing about it.
(Baby, no.) Yes. She tried a few of the clamps on her fingers, and let out a holler, “There is no way these ah’ going on my tits.” She said. But I told her how good it feels, and how good it feels to be pulled around by them, and how good it feels when you are fucking me and I have to wear them for hours. (Did it turn her on?) I don’t know but she did ask me a lot of questions. Actually, I was kind of drunk, and I sort-of liked telling her things and watching her freak out.
So I gave her my cell phone and showed her how to use the camera. Then, feeling really stupid and scared, I went over to the TV and did a few poses. (Like what?) Oh the things you like. (Like what?) Like standing with my hands over my head, or behind my back. (Uh, uh.) Yeah. And then I started to get a little braver. And I leaned over the table and stuck my ass out. (Was she taking pictures?) Yes. But she really wasn’t into it.
Then I told her that you would want to see me being dominated but she wouldn’t get into the pics too. I thought if I had a picture of me on all fours with her standing in the pic too, I could send it to you and keep you happy for a long time. But she wouldn’t do it. (Get her to drink some more!) Well, I did. We had another drink and then I got her to take a few more, but this time with her arm and hand in the pic. (Cool!) She said she would at least do that for me. (What! You and her in a pic!) Yeah, me and her in a few pics, but just her hand or arm….(A dark hand and arm in the pics with you?)….yeah, that’s what you want to see, I told her.
Then I tried to get her to take some pics of me with some clothespins. (What!) That’s one of your favorite things. And I was getting really drunk by then. And I told her about the fetch game we play. (I don’t believe you.) Well believe me, I told her. I told her I was going to do this once and if that wasn’t enough for you then you had better find another way to get your kicks.
(You did some tit bondage? With her there watching?) Yes. I…I don’t know what the hell I was thinking…but I started to crawl around the floor, having her take the pics and I threw a few clothespins on the floor. Then I crawled over to one, picked it up with my mouth and carried it back to her. (Where was she?) She was sitting on the couch. And I asked her if she would put it on my tit and take a pic of her doing it. (What! Naked?) No. I was wearing my black lingerie. I wanted her to put the clothespin on my tit, but over the lingerie. But she said no. So I had to do it.
(You put a clothespin on your tit in front of a black girl?) Yep. And I put a few on, and she took the pics but it just looked strange, kind of funny to see them sticking out over the lingerie. I looked at the pics and I knew that they were not good enough for you. You would want more. So I asked Chantel if she would mind if I took off my shirt for a few pics. (What!) She freaked out. She stuttered and stammered that all she wanted to do was return and borrow some movies. The drunk was nice and she was having fun, but it was time for her to go home. She was looking at me kind of…..(What?)…kind of like I was crazy.
Oh, come on, just a few pics for him. I can’t do it by myself. And he would really get off on them. Just hold a clothespin, put your arm in the pic, that is all. I’ll put them on. Just to prove to him that you were here. (What did she say?) She thought about it for a little while, had another drink, then said, “What the hell! Let’s do it. But ‘den I got’ta go.” I thanked her, and we both had another drink.
(You didn’t take your lingerie off, in front of her, no way!) Yes way. I turned my back to her…(Why?)…I don’t know, shy, I’ve never been naked, or half naked, in front of another woman before. (Not even in high school, girl’s locker room for PE?) Nope, not even that. I would change my clothes in the stall. But I was drunk and still pissed off at myself. So I did it.
(NO!) Yes. She said, “I’m trippin’ on you girl. You is so wild!” But she really tried not to look at me. (She didn’t want to check out your tits? Has she ever seen white titties before?) I didn’t ask her. But….(Did you show them off to her?)…she said I was really brave and that she could never do it, unless “your boyfriend” has “the dick”. Yes, he does, I confessed. “Girl!”
(So what did you do?) I made a few more poses. Like before, but I didn’t have a top. (Just panties?) Yeah, and you know how much I hate to wear them, but I wasn’t about to be naked in front of her. (Did you play the fetch game?) Yes. (No!) Yes. (Wait a second. You took off your top and then crawled around?) Yes. (And picked up clothespins with your mouth?) Yes. (And she was taking pics?) Yes. And then she held one out, and took a pic, so it looked like she was putting them on me. (I’m going to cum right now!) Wait. I put them on myself, every one, and I put a few on, about five on each one, I told her how much you like that.
(What about your nipples?) I saved those for last. And I got her to put them on for me. (SHIT!) Did you hear me? (Yes. I said, SHIT!) Isn’t that what you want to see? Isn’t that what you want? I hope you’re happy. I have two pics of her putting on the last two clothespins on my nipples. (I…)
Then I crawled around a little more, and the alcohol kicked in real good. I was sweating and panting, and getting dizzy and crawling around, and she would take a pic or two. (I…sweating…) Oh hell yeah, I was hot by then. Then I told her about the foot licking thing, you know …(SHIT!)…and I told her she could wear one of my boots, if she would take a pic of me crawling up to them and kissing them. (Oh fuck baby…….oh fuck) She put them on, and I stuck my tongue out and I licked them and she got some pics of it.
Oh shit, I told her, I forgot something. I got out the red lipstick and wrote WHITE over my right tit and SLUT over my left tit. You should have seen her expression. Hey, you still there. You sound kind of silent. What’s wrong? (Nothing is wrong at all….I just….I…I’m….) Surprised? (Yeah) Didn’t think you would hear this, huh? (I…) Yeah, that’s what I thought.
But by then I had to pee real bad. So I took them off and put my top back on, and thanked her again. She asked if I could mix one last drink, she was feeling “funny about it”, but she had fun and commented over and over how brave I was and asked again and again about you. What you look like. (What?) How tall you were? Are you muscular? Did you have a big dick? (Cock.) She called it a dick. How long did you fuck me? Did you like black girls? Had you ever fucked a black girl? And by then I was feeling “funny about it”. And then I told her about your blue-grey eyes and showed her some of our pics. “Goddamn girl, he’s a fine man.”
She was talking about you just a little too much. And you know me and vodka, and you know who I am when I get drunk, and you know who jealous I am. And she started to ask about your cock, “What does it look like? How long is it?” Then she said something like, “So, how long can he fuck you?” And I told her our quickies were about 20 to thirty minutes, but when it’s a good night, we can make it through a CD or two. And then she said something like, “Oh girl, that’s what I need right now. You got some more picturez of him? Got any naked ones?” Well, she just started to piss me off a little, talking about you too much. And I said something like, so you like my white man, and something about Derek. I don’t even remember what it was. And she turned her head and looked at me, and the look in her eyes was one to kill. It kind of scared me. Then she said, “What did you say, bitch?” And then I was shocked, but I kind of felt bad about mentioning Derek, so I didn’t cuss her back, all I said was, “Oh I’m sorry. I meant that……well…….maybe you were still a little mad…and….well……hey, I’m really sorry for mentioning his name……I’m just drunk and I don’t know what I was saying……sorry…..” She just looked at me, then the lethal stare relaxed and she said, “Don’t worry girl. It’s all over between us. I’m not mad at him. It’s just ‘dat fucking white ‘hoe next door!” And the fire came back in her eye.
Well, I went back to the bathroom. And when I came back out, she was looking through the stuff in the box and she was looking at the DVD. “Let’s take a few more pics for yo’ man. And why don’t you put this on too.” I was shocked again and kind of relieved that she wasn’t still mad at me. OK, I said. And then I went back and mixed us two more drinks.
But things seemed kind of strange the second time. She wasn’t laughing with me any more. She was giving me orders. “Why don’t you take that top off girl! Come on!” But I was drunk and this was all for you and if we took a few pics already, then a few more wouldn’t hurt.
“Yeah, that’s it, Are you going to crawl around again? Let me get the boots back on. OK. Now lick them again. And she was taking all kind of pics. And I did it.
Then she gave me the lipstick and told me to write a few more words. So I did. I wrote WHITE TRASH on the left side of my ass and WHORE on the right side. Then she took more pics. Then I wrote WHITE WHORE on my belly and drew an arrow down to my pussy. (Did you take off your panties?) Hell no, and she took more pics.
Then I put the clothespins back on but this time she told me to put on the nipple clamps with the chain and weights. (My favorites?) Yeah, and you know how much they hurt. I even let her put them on. So you are still there? (Yeah, I’m just….) Well, she was taking more pics and my nipples were hurting so bad, and stretching out so long. Then I had to crawl around more. (What do you mean, had to crawl around more?) She told me to crawl around more, and pose next to the TV. And about that time the black girl in the movie started to whip on the second white girl. And she was watching it and asking me questions over the sound of the music, “Girl, you like ‘dis shit, huh! Girl, yo’ is a nasty bitch!”
Then she was looking at the movie, and I knew what was about to happen. So I said something about, let’s take a few more, could you spank my ass a little with one of those. And I pointed to the box.
(Baby, is this real…this is…) You should see me ass today. I can’t sit, it’s all purple and welted, I don’t know what I’ll do at work tomorrow. (No…I…did she really…I…) And it still stings when I walk. I think it was all the vodka, and I couldn’t feel what happened next.
So I got over the couch, put my arms on it, let the chain hand down, oh did that hurt, the clamps were pulling my nipples down, and swinging around and I put my ass in the air. And she was taunting me, over and over, “Is this what yo’ man does to you? You like this shit? What does he call you? Huh?” And she kept it up, but she wasn’t hitting me very hard at all. I knew there wouldn’t be any marks, so I, I don’t know what I was thinking, I shook my ass a little, and said something like, you can hit me harder than that, make a mark. So she hit me a little harder but it was still not enough.
And then I mumbled, under my breath so she could hear it, something like, what are you afraid of a white girl, or something. “What did yo’ say?” And she really cracked it over my ass, hard. That would leave a mark. One or two more and we’ll be done. So I said, nothing, just are you afraid of spanking me? “No, that’s now wha’ yo’s said, wha’ did yo’ say?” So I got brave and said it even louder, it was the vodka talking, I said are you afraid of a white girl? And I shook my ass at her.
The paddle came down hard. Ouch that stung. “I ain’t afraid of no white girl. Especially yo’ crazy ass!” And she kept on smacking my ass with the paddle. “Is that enough fo’ yo?” She asked. And I said, oh no, that was nothing, my man beats me harder than that every time he fucks me. And she went a little wild, she hit me over and over. And I knew my ass would be a nice red color and how you would get off on it. So I tempted her more, shaking it, then I said, BITCH! YOU CAN’T DO MORE THAN THAT! And she really started to smack my ass.
Then she said, “So, is ‘dis wha’ yo’ white ‘hoes like, huh?” And I said yes, we love it. And then I said it, I said, yeah, even Candy likes it. (Candy?) Yeah, the whore next door who stole her man. (Oh shit) Oh yeah, and she went crazy on my ass. She was hitting it harder and cussing at me, “’Dat fucking ‘hoe. She yo’ friend, huh, all yo’ white ‘hoes are friends!” And I said, yes, she’s my friend.
Oh was she pissed off. And I couldn’t believe what I was doing, and all I kept thinking was how hot you would get from the pics and maybe if they were hot enough you just might want to come back home sooner.
She was hitting my ass harder, but I couldn’t feel it. And I kept it up, saying things like, she’s me friend. We love it. This is what my man likes. This is how my man treats me. This is what my man likes. And I tried to say “my man” as many times as I could because it would piss her off more. Oh, I’m my man’s dirty whore, only for him. And the words just kept spilling out of my mouth. And she got more and more pissed off. She changed from the paddle to the big paddle. (No) Yeah, the big one with SLUT carved in it. Shit, did that hurt.
(I ….) And she was cussing at me, and the movie was playing, and I was starting to scream a little, and the girl in the movie was screaming and she was yelling at me, and all I could think about was how proud you would be of me and how hard you would cum when you got the pics. So I kept it up, for you……just for you. I don’t know what I was thinking, yes I do, I want to keep you interested and out of those bars with all those little skinny Asian girls.
And I knew that I would never ever do something like this again. And I said, oh, show me what you would do to Candy! Would you beat Candy’s ass hard! Show me! And then I said it, I’m Candy!
She was quiet for a moment, then she screamed, “Fucking bitch! Fucking ‘hoe! How dare yo’ say ‘dat to me! I thought we……are you……bitch…..I….” And I shook my ass at her, spank Candy’s ass, I said. And I shook it more. And she started to beat on my ass like you beat on my ass. Shit it hurt this time. I could feel the heat.
“Tell me ‘yo sorry!” She shouted at me. NO! I answered. And she beat my ass harder. “Tell me ‘yo sorry!” She screamed at me. “’Yo crazy white girl! Say ‘yo sorry!” And I said, NO! And she started to slap it on my legs, my back, and over and over on my ass. “Tell me ‘yo sorry!” She screamed. And finally, I said, I’m sorry. “Wha’, I didn’t hear yo’ crazy ass!” And I had to say it again, I’m sorry. “What! I still can’t hear yo’!” And this time I had to scream it, I’M SORRY! And she stopped.
(Baby, I …) My ass hurt. My tits hurt. My nipples hurt. I reached down and took off the nipple clamps and let out a scream. And then I laid there, face down on the couch, panting, crying, moaning, sweating, and for all I did, all I could think about was how hot you would get when you saw the pics. Hell, you might just come right home. I was so drunk.
Then she leaned down on the couch. “Yo, Miss A****. See this. This is my cell phone. Do you know what ‘dat means? Huh? Do yo’?” And I looked up for the first time and saw her standing over me and I have never been so embarrasses in my whole life. “’Dis is my phone. I got picturez of yo’ crazy white ass! What do yo’ think of ‘dat, huh! I got the picturez of yo’!” I know what she was saying, but I didn’t understand it yet. “And I’m gonna’ keep ‘em. If yo’ man wantz ‘dem, when he comes back, yo’ get him to come over and get ‘em.” I looked up at her. The words were starting to sink in. My eyes started to bulge and I looked at her hand, and it was her cell phone. I’m so embarrassed. “And yo’ best be extra nice to me. Or I just might show these picturez to a few of your friends. How would yo’ like ‘dat, huh?” I tried to say something, but all I could do was cry and stammer words, no, I, oh please, and stuff. “Wha’ if I show ‘em to Rhonda and the girlz?” Oh god, no, please no, I started to beg her, trying to fight back tears, not the tears form the ass beating but ….(Baby, I …)…and I tried to stand up to stop her from leaving but my legs wouldn’t work. She just laughed at me, waved her cell phone around my head, teasing me. “Wha’ yo’ problem? Yo’ scared of these picturez? Huh! Yo’ scared?” And all I could say was, yes. “Well, yo’ should have thought o’ ‘dat befo’, huh!” I tried to speak but all I could was just stammer and blubber and make her laugh more.
“We ‘jus ma’ght have some fun wit’ yo’ ass some befoe’ yo’ man comes back home, huh?” And I tried to beg her no, I tried to tell her that I only did it for you and that I’m not into it, just for you……only for you…..(Baby, I …)….and she said, “We’ll see jus’ how good yo’ can be. Now I’m drunk, tired, and I’m going to borrow these movies, bye. I’ll see yo’ later.” And she grabbed the movies and she opened the door (with you on the couch, half naked…)…yeah, and I tried to hide and crawl away from the open door, and she just laughed, opened it wider and said, “So, should I close the dow’, huh?” And is said yes. And she said, “Wha’, I didn’t hear dat’!” And I said, yes, please close the door. “’Dat sounds better.” And she slammed the door and left me laying there on the floor.
THE END OF CHAPTER ONE…………..
CHAPTER TWO
My reaction, our following conversation, and Chantel’s visit the next day.
When we
spoke, Chantel still hadn’t come over yet. And because of the time differences,
when she did come over it was in the afternoon there in the states, but it was
in the early morning hours here in
And I’m freaking out with anticipation. When I go home tonight, I’ll give her a call and find out. I can’t wait and it is difficult to focus on work with images of her crawling around in front of a photograph taking black girl and getting her nipples clamped and her ass beaten is just too much for me.
I’ve spent all of my morning writing this, and I tried to keep it as accurate to the conversation as possible, even to the point of NOT adding details to it that were not in the original conversation. I don’t need to make up things. That is the beauty of it all.
Cheers!
Chapter 2
The Day After
Prologue: There is no erotica in this chapter. It’s our following conversation about what happened that night.
Well, needless to
say, she was upset. And the more she told me about it the more upset she got
about it. Then she started to “curse herself” (a very southern slang) for being
so stupid, which lapsed into regret. And she started to take an emotional nose
dive equivalent to a kamakazi pilot aiming for a
I was still shocked by the whole thing, but soon this temporary stun began to fade, to be replaced by “other emotions”, most notably my pride and arousal. And I knew that I needed to save this situation and fast. So I told her the truth. I told her how proud I was of her; how few women would have the guts or daring or motivation to do something as kinky as that; I told her how much it means to me to have a woman who would go to such extremes for “her man”; I told her how incredibly erotic and exciting it was to hear about her “mis-adventures”; I told her that there are millions of women in the world who walk around every day and say things like, “Oh baby, I love you and I’ll do anything for you”, but they are just words, but what she did was action; I told her that if I ever wanted proof, positive proof that she really loves me and will do anything for me, well, now I have it.
Most importantly, I told her that I loved her, that I respected what she did and why she did it, and that it means more to me than any “token of esteem” like idle words and meaningless gifts. And that any gift you can “buy” with cash can be “bought” by anyone is not special. But what is special, is the gifts that can’t be “bought”, that have to be shared and experienced, and that is what she did for me. She gave me the best and biggest present she could give, she BECAME MY FANTASY GIRL…………SHE BECAME MY LOVE, MY FANTASY GIRL…………
And if there was a way to prove her love for me, by doing whatever it was that was in her power (and possibly a little beyond her power) to entice me to get my ass back to the states into her waiting arms and bed, well, she just did it. And every moment that I look at Chinese girls with flat chests, devoid of all forms of S&M and B&D, I wonder why I’m here in Taiwan, R.O.C., and why I’m not there, in her living room, having a drink and smokin’ some buds with her neighbor, Chantel, and feeling my heart beat in my chest and my cock swell as my girlfriend/sub/A has to strip, crawl, and get her ass beat by myself, then I get to turn, take the warm leather paddle from my hand, and put it in the palm of a sexy, bra-less, white tank top, cut-off shorts wearing black girl, who is going to use it on her big white ass, which is already marked up with pink, red and purple marks, oh shit………..oh shit……..oh shit…….what the hell am I doing here……..?????????????????????
Slowly, agonizingly slow, she began to change her mind. She stopped sniffing and sobbing, and started to answer me and talk about it more. Actually, the main thing she was worried about was Chantel showing the pics to someone who knows her daughter, or worse yet, showing them to her daughter. As I talked about it more with her, she began to laugh a little about it (a good sign) and soon she wasn’t even pissed off or depressed. OK, she was a little pissed off and depressed, and she was still worried who might see the pics, but she was no longer considering packing up her stuff and moving (another good sign).
When I asked about the pics, she kind of avoided the question, then told me that she got so pissed off after Chantel left last night, she was still drunk, and really hurt, more emotionally than physically, that she “erased the pics from her cell phone”. I got kind of scared, who erased what pics, I asked her. Then she told me again, that she, A, had erased the pics Chantel took of her from “her” cell phone, not Chantel’s cell phone.
I told her that it was a shame that she erased them all, all that work for nothing. And it was about that time that her whole persona started to change.
She thought that if it really turned me on, as much as I said it did, then why not pack my shit and come back home to the states. Instead of me, how did she say it, “Getting your self off watching porno movies about black girls and S&M, why not just come home and do it for real!” I about gasped out loud. What was she insinuating? That if I come home, she will not only be my sub-slut/slave but also reenact my deepest, darkest, kinkiest desires and fantasies. She even went so far as to ask me, “So, if we do that, you aren’t going to touch her are you. I couldn’t stand that at all.” And words of that nature.
So she went from horror and self-loathing, to “if it happens again, and you’re here, you cant’ touch her”. I gasped. Was she really hinting at what I thought she was hinting at? So I asked her, straight out. “Um, baby, so when I come home, all three can get together? Really?” She was silent and said something like, “We’ll see about that. You just need to get your ass over here!”
So we talked about it a little more, and she told me that Chantel was coming back over that night to “talk with her about something”. I pressed her for more details, but that is all she knew. And since her Sunday night would be my Monday morning, I wouldn’t get a chance to call her, so I have to wait until later this week to call. And the suspense is killing me. Every time I get on the computer, the first thing I do is check the emails, hoping to hear something from her. But nothing yet.
I wonder what happened. Did Chantel come back? Did she beat on my girl some more? Did she threaten her with the pics? Did she even remember the pics? Who knows, but we (I and now you the reader) will find out.
She Finally Did It This Time …….Chapter 3
*NOTE*
I appreciate all the emails I’ve gotten and your kind (kinky) compliments really encourage me to keep writing what happens BUT ……..I’m not making this up as I go. I’m just sharing one of the most erotic and kinky events in my life, so far. And this is something that I want to write down and keep, like a kinky diary.
Prelude
Last weekend, my
sub-slut A was going to get drunk and take some kinky pics
to email to me. It’s become a common event, since I’ve been away almost a year
overseas in
A will get on the phone, torment herself with crops, dildos, clothespins, paddles and an assortment of nipple clamps and pretend a black girl is there doing it to her. She will say things like, “Oh, no mam. Please don’t slap my red tits again, it ….(SLAP!) (SLAP!) AAAaaahhhhhh!!! Yes! I’m a dirty white slut! What! I have to kiss your feet? Oh, no, please don’t make me … (SLAP!) (SLAP!) (SLAP!) ….oh god, mam, please, no more, I … (SLAP!) (SLAP!) (SLAP!) AAAaaahhhhh!!! …” And it sounds so, so, so good on the phone. She has this deep south kinky Cajun Demi Moore voice.
Well, we did this a few times, maybe one time too many. She got pissed off, “What, I’m not enough for you. Do you want to fuck a black girl instead of me!” And we got into an argument on the phone.
I felt bad and she felt bad, so when her trailer was empty, she decided she was going to get drunk and take few good pics for me. By chance (heavenly blessing or hell curse), A’s half black/white neighbor Chantel came over to borrow a DVD. Fueled by her feelings and vodka, A got Chantel to take the pics for her. But, Chantel switched cell phones and used hers to take them. Finally, telling my sub-slut A that she will keep them until I came home and personally collected them from her. In the meanwhile, Chantel just might use them to blackmail my girl into doing things. Actually, I kind of hope she does.
Chapter 3
Hello? (Hey baby, so how are you?) Fine. (And how is that big white ass?) Huh, it’s almost white again. There are just a few marks left. (Really?) Yeah. (So you can sit now?) Oh yeah, I could sit the next day, but it hurt, especially my right cheek. (Why?) That was the side she hit the most. (She! Wow! I still can’t believe I’m hearing you say that.) Well, that’s what you wanted. (Well, I …) She came back yesterday. (What?) Yep. (She was sipping on her tea and had to make slurping sounds.) (She was there?) Yep. (Did she remember last weekend?) Oh, hell yeah. I was kind of hoping she would have forgotten or erased the pics or something. (She didn’t erase them, did she?) You are so cute. No. She still has them and she’s keeping them until you come home and get them. (Why me?) Because she wants to meet you. (And then we can…) I don’t know about any “we’s” but when you get back your ass is going right over there and getting them. (Are you going too?) What, you think I’m going to leave you and her alone in her trailer? No way. (Oh. Well, that could be even better. Does she live alone?) No. She lives with her brother and a sister or two. (Cool. Maybe the whole family can …) We are just going to get them. OK. (OK. But…hey what happened?)
She called me and told me she was coming over. So I cleaned up the house a little and changed my clothes. (What were you wearing?) My house robe. (No bra and panties?) No. But I changed into a t-shirt and jeans. (oh) I waited most of the afternoon and when she knocked on my door, my heart jumped. I was nervous and a little scared. (Was it her? Was she alone?) Yes. (Did she dress up too?) Huh, she was dressed as usual. (White tank top, shorts and bra-less.) Yes. And she looked kind of nervous too. We just stood there for a moment and I asked her inside.
We didn’t know what to say and there was this strange silence. Then I asked her if she wanted some tea and then we started to talk. (Did you look her in the eyes?) No. I couldn’t do that yet. We talked a little about stuff, I don’t even remember what, the weather or something, then she said, “Hey, abou’ las’ weekend, I don’t kno’ wha’ got into me. I’ve never done somethin’ like tha’ befo’. And I feel kind o’ strange about it.” I told her I did too. Then she apologized for using her cell phone to take the pics, “I really didn’t know wha’ I was do’in. I was getting’ drunk, girl, you is so bad.” Then we laughed a little. (Did she give them back to you?) Well, I asked her about that. And she said, “Girl, ‘dat was wrong to do ‘dat. But, I is gonna keep ‘em until I see you’re man.” (Still) Yeah.
Then we started to talk about it. I was getting kind of pissed off that she was going to keep them. I was getting kind of pissed off when she kept asking about you and when you were going to come back. I told her, those were very private and personal pics, and they were for you and you alone, and she had no right to keep them. Then she asked me if I talked to you. And I told her yes. She asked what you said. And I told her that you were upset, but, kind of turned on by it, “Girl, I though’ ya’ waz bad. He is ‘da bad one”. But she still wasn’t going to give me the pics.
And right before I started to get mad, she said, “Well girl, if ya’ want to send yo’ man some pics, we can take some mo’”. (What?) Yeah, you heard me. (No way!) Yeah, she did. “But, I don’t wan’ to see yo’ titties again. But we can take some mo’”. (Are you sure?) Yes, I’m sure.
Then she told me that she was going to help me. And if you liked black girls so much, she was going to help with that, too. (How?) She wanted to turn me into a black girl for you. (What?) Yeah. She wanted to take me shopping with her. (Where? The mall?) Hell no. Down at Fashion Trends. (Where?) The cheap store. It’s all black. They even have those big pimp hats in the window. (You went there?) No. But I drove past it after work and I looked in the window. (Nice clothes?) If you like sluts. (Well, I …) I know. (Did you?) What do you think? (You didn’t.) I did. (What! Am I hearing you correctly? You went shopping for some “urban” slut clothes?) Yep. (Were you the only white girl in the store?) Yep. (No way!) Do you want to hear about it or not? (Oh, I’m all ears.) OK.
So, she wanted to do something for me. I think she wanted to make up a little for the other night. (Not a nice deep tongue kiss?) Gross. I’m not going to finish if you keep it up. (Sorry.) OK. So, she wanted to dress me like a black girl. At first I didn’t want to go. But she kept bugging me about it. And she kept egging me on about it. “Jus’ come ou’ and ge’ a few shirts. Girl, have ya’ looking slutty, girl. Drive yo’ man wild.” Well, she kept on about it and finally I said yes. (Wow!) Yeah.
She went home to get her purse … (And her cell phone?) …no, and then we rode up in my car. (Does she have a car?) No. (Did you change clothes?) Yeah. I went back to my room and put on a bra and panties. (Awh! Did she change, too.) No. She always walks around in a white sleeveless t-shirt with her tits hanging out. (Really?) Yeah.
Well, we got there and the smell. (Did it stink?) Yep. Most of the clothes were used. (Yuck!) And the shoes stunk the worst. (Did you try some on? Ha ha ha) Hell no. I’m not putting my feet in those shoes, even with socks on. We went over to the clothes racks and she started to pick things out for me to wear. (Nice clothes?) No. Some of the tackiest and slutiest clothes I’ve ever seen. Some hoochie-mama clothes. (No white sleeveless t-shirts?) Oh, she had a few of those, too.
There were two dressing rooms and she put me in one to try them on. So, I started to strip but I didn’t notice she left the curtain open. (What?) Yeah. (All the way?) Oh, no. But she left it open about three inches. (Wow!) Yeah. And I was the only white girl in the store. (Were there some guys too?) Yeah, they were there with their girlfriends. (When did you notice?) After I stripped down and I heard someone say something like, “Oh, ‘dat white bitch think she is, showing off her ass like ‘dat. What a slut!” And I couldn’t figure out who they were talking about. I thought that maybe there was another white girl in the store. But then I turned around and saw my curtain open. (Did anyone see anything?) Oh, did they. So I shut the curtain and finished changing.
(What did you have to wear?) The first was a dress, with a really short mini-skirt. But it was too small. The next was a red shirt and a short blue jean skirt. (How short?) I couldn’t sit down in it. (Was there a mirror in the dressing room?) No. I had to go outside and use the mirror on the outside of the door. (Were people watching you?) Oh, yeah. (How did it look?) Like, I was a hooker. (Really?) Yeah. (Cool.)
Chantel came over and complained that the dress was not supposed to have a bra with it and the straps on my shoulders looked stupid. She told me to take off my bra and panties for the next outfits. (Did you?) No. But she kept insisting. “Don’t you w’ont yo’ man to get all turned on when he sees ya’? Wha’t ya’ afraid o’, girl? I’ll sho’ya’ how to dress like a ‘hoe, girl. He will die when he see yo’ ass!” And she kept getting louder and louder, and a few women started to notice and laugh a little.
So finally I gave in. (What did you do?) Dumb-ass, I took my bra and panties off. But there were no place to put them, and I didn’t want to leave them on the ground. Then Chantel says, “Yo, girl, let me hold ‘dem fo’ ya’!” (Oh-oh) Yeah, oh-oh, I knew something was up with that but I still didn’t want them on the ground, or everyone looking at them. (What did the carpet look like?) Carpet? How about dirty cement. (What about your purse?) Oh, she was holding that for me, I couldn’t take it in the dressing room. I rolled them into a ball and gave them to her and she stuck them in my purse.
Then she handed me a pair of shorts, but they were about two sizes too big. I told her that but she said I should still try them on. (Too big, why?) I just thought she picked the wrong size, but I was wrong. What it did do was make my ass hang out the back and I had to be careful how I moved because you could see my . . . (pussy?) … well, yeah. (What!) If I didn’t keep my legs closed you could see straight up. (Shit!)
Next, she threw a bright yellow and black striped tube top to me. It was awful. But I tried it on. “Come ‘on girl, let’s see ya’.” She chided. So, reluctantly, I came out. Kind of nervous and embarrassed. God was I showing some skin. (Baby, …I…) Everyone looked at me. “Turn around, let’s see”, she said. So, I turned around once or twice, noticing the eyes on me in the store. (Men or women?) Both. (Did they think you were some kind of slut.) Oh, yeah.
“Ya’ know wha’ ya’ need, ya’ need some color”, she said. And she took a bottle of 99 cent nail polish. (What color?) Like you have to guess, what is your favorite color? (Whore red) Yep. (No) Yes. (Worse than the color we picked out.) Oh,yeah, worse. The one we picked out was a nice deep color, this was a cheap looking color. (Did you put it on?) No. She put it on for me, talking the whole time how different I looked. (Just your finger nails?) No, my toe nails too. (Gods, you must have looked slutty.) Oh, you would have gotten hard.
(Did you get that outfit?) No. She had me try on a few more. She had me try on three more tube tops. (Did you get one?) Yep. (What color?) Do you have to guess? (Red) Oh, a deep red.
(What else?) Well, I tried on a few spaghetti-strap tops, those were really bad. (A good bad or a bad bad) A bad bad. Then I tried on two halter tops, those stunk. And then she found some used wife beater shirts. (Really) Yeah, they looked just like the ones she always wears. (What did she say?) Oh, that I looked good.
But something was still missing, she told me. So, while I was changing clothes, she was digging through a table of jewelry. (Oh, some expensive classy stuff.) In this store, no. It was cheap stuff, you know, big necklaces, oversized hoop earrings, and . . . (A bling bling) . . . how did you know. (I was just kidding.) Well, I got one. (No) Yes. (What does it say?) Guess. (Um, how about dirty white slut.) You’re close, keep guessing. (Slut) No, think what you like to make me do. (That doesn’t narrow it down any.) What’s your favorite? (Make you crawl?) And … (Bitch) …yep. (What!) Yep, a nice diamond studded BITCH bling bling. (Wow) And some red plastic hoop earrings. (Classy) Oh, yeah.
Then she found some neck-less, sleeveless, half shirts. (Oh oh) God, you could see my tits and my nipples sticking out. (Uh, …) And then she got me some shorts that were so short, and cut up the sides, I’ve never worn something like that before. (Like what?) Like, shorts that were so low and so short that my ass and …you know… hung out. (I …) And I was wearing some used wife beater shirt, red hoop earrings and that cheap red nail polish on my hands and feet. And the pumps. (Pumps) Yeah, she found some street walker pumps. It was hard to stand in them. (How did you look?) She didn’t want me to see the mirror, she wanted to keep it for a surprise.
Well, it was time for us to leave, and I looked around the dressing room and my clothes were gone. (Huh) Yeah, so I asked her if she saw them and she said yes, she put them in my purse, so I wouldn’t lose them or they got stolen. Then she said, “OK, let’s go”. (What) Yeah, she wanted me to leave the store dressed like that. (Uh uh) Yeah. I said hell no, there is no way I’m walking around like that. Chantel said something like, “Wha’s wrong, girl. Yo’ look fine. Didn’t kno’ ya’ had it in ya’”. And I kept protesting and she kept walking to the front of the store to the checkout counter. (Did she get something, too?) Yeah, she found some slut shirts. I tried to call her but she just walked off, leaving me standing there hiding behind the dressing room door.
(What did you do?) Well, I had one choice. She had my purse, my wallet, my car keys, and my clothes. So, I went up to the checkouts. (What happened?) It was a bit of a show. Everyone looked at me. The men were looking at me up and down, and the girls were giving me that, “Oh, you are a slut” look. (How many white people were in the store?) Counting me, one. And they were all staring at me. (Did you get nervous?) Yeah, I could feel the heat in my face and then I looked down. (Nipples) Yeah, they were rock hard and poking out through the shirt. (Could you see them?) From a few yards away. (The only pink nipples in the store.) Yeah. (That’s my girl.)
(What did Chantel say?) She said I looked hot, and she was proud of me for going the “distance” and getting them. (So you bought them?) Yeah, and a few shorts and tops. (How much?) For everything, about $30. (Expensive stuff?) Oh yeah. When I paid, the checkout girl gave me that look. (What look?) That “you are a slut” look. (Cool).
Then we went outside, and that was worse. (Why?) Because it was another hot day and the sun was really shining down. And I could see straight through my shirt and see my nipples. (Wait. What were you wearing again?) A wife beater, non-existent shorts, pumps and hoop earrings…oh and the bling bling. (A BITCH bling bling?) Yeah. (What was she wearing?) Basically the same, without the BITCH bling bling. (And you two came strutting out of the store together, side by side?) Yeah. (And you could see both of your tits and ass?) Yeah. You would have gone crazy.
I can’t tell you how much of a cheap slut I felt like, walking around dressed like that. (Oh baby, …) And everyone in the parking lot was looking at us and they were saying things. (Like what?) Like, “Oh, look at ‘dos sexy bitches. Shit! Look at those titties!” And things like that. (How did you feel?) Scared. Embarrassed. And hot. (Like turned on?) No. Like hot. It was about 100 degrees that day.
I was sweating before we got back to the car. All I could think of is what you would do or say if you were there. (huh) I would love to see the expression on your face if you saw us walking toward the car. (Tell me) Oh, come on. Me dressed up like some ghetto whore, next to sexy black girl with her tits bouncing all around, and we were both sweating, and in matching wife beaters and we got into the same car. And you know my A/C is out. (Still?) Yeah, so it was even hotter in the car. And you know what happens when you get a white shirt wet?
Hello? Are you listening to me? All I hear is static. (I’m here…I…) Are you playing with yourself. (Well…) Just think. You could be here too if you would get your ass back home. (Baby…) Only for you, I would walk around dressed like a hooker. And you aren’t even here to see it. (Did you take any pics?) Oh, no. You are going have to come back and see for yourself. (No…that’s not fair…) It’s not fair you are so far away for so long, is it?
Oh, wait. I did take some pics. Well, she did. (When?) While we were driving and stopped at the red light she said something like, “Girl, I got a surprise for ya’”. (Oh-oh) She took some pics. (When?) When I was changing clothes. (I thought you said she didn’t bring her cell phone.) Well she did. Because she got a call and she answered it. Then she showed them to me. Well, she held the phone in her hand and showed me. (What were they?) She took about five. And they showed me changing in the dressing room. (Could you see anything?) No. Just my back and part of my ass. But there is a pic of two black boys peeking in at me. (Really?) Yeah. Kind of pissed me off, but she just laughed it away. “Girl, he will love ‘em”.
But, my
gas was really low. (How low?) So low that I didn’t think we could make it
back. So I had to stop to get some gas. (No way. Dressed like that?) Yeah. She
said she knew a really cheap gas place. I really didn’t want to go to the
Chevron by the house or the 7-11. (Yeah, what if someone you know saw you!) I
would die. “It’s jus’ over ‘der”. She told me. And we
took a few turns to a really small gas station and food store. (Which one?) It’s about a block off Highway 49, in
We pulled up and I looked around. (All black?) Yeah. The engine kind of shuddered a little when I turned it off. And I asked her if she would go in and pay. She just looked at me and rolled her eyes, “Girl, what’s wrong wit’ ya’. Jus’ go in ‘der and pay fo’ ya’ gas. Wha’ ‘cha afraid ov. Ya’ look hot girl. Go sho’ if off a little. OK. If it makes ya’ feel betta’. This is ma cousin’s sto’”. I asked her if she would go in with me, since they were all family and she conceded.
But I don’t know if that was a good or a bad idea. (Why?) Well, if I ran in and paid, it would have been a really quick thing. Run in, pay and run out. But, she has to take her time. And when the guys started to “hoot-and-holler” at us, she had to slow down and put more twist to her hip when she walked. Then she had to drop something, and bend slowly, way over, to pick it up. (Showing off her ass?) And tits. And I had to listen to a few more, “OH, what a fine white ‘hoe” comments. (Surprise)
(What was it like inside?) It was dark and dirty. (Was it empty?) In the middle of the afternoon, no. A few people buying stuff and the usual people sitting around and talking. (What happened when ya’ll walked in?) Everyone looked at us and the guy behind the counter said something like, “Chantel, wha’s up!” And then everyone started to talk and laugh. (About?) I don’t know, I can’t understand half of what they were saying. (Did anyone look at you?) Oh, hell yeah. One little boy just stood there staring at me. Then his older brother leaned over and whispered something in his ear and they both looked at me and laughed.
Well, I wanted to pay for the gas, but they just kept talking. And the crowd around the register kept getting bigger and bigger. And she has a loud mouth, and told everyone how she took her white friend down to Fashion Trends and “fixed her up good”. God, my face was red. She went over to the cooler and picked out two 40 oz. bottle of beer, opened them up and started to drink hers.
I tried to tell her I didn’t want one and she just laughed at me. And since she already opened them, we might as well drink them. I tried to tell her I don’t like to drink beer, especially cheap beer in the middle of the afternoon. But she got kind of upset over it. Saying how she was proud of me for going shopping but how she was disappointed in me. Something like, “Dress the dress, but not walk the walk”. And she kept it up, and started to say things like, “Wha’, ‘dis ain’t good enough fo’ ya’. What’s wrong with a little beer? Come on, I’m buying it. Ya’ too good for ‘dis”. And everyone was looking at me and I know what they were thinking. Oh, look at this white girl all dressed up like some black ‘hoe, but inside, she is just a spoiled white girl, up on her “I’m white and better than you” attitude.
So I drank mine. (Wait a second. You were drinking beer in the middle of the afternoon at a black gas station dressed like a ‘hoe? I don’t know what to say, it’s just so hard to believe) Well, believe it. I did it. I figured that if I drank mine, and quick, maybe we could get out of there earlier. But I was wrong. “How ‘bout another one?” She asked me. And by then, there were about six big guys standing there, flirting with her, drinking beer too. (Did they flirt with you?) Yes. But they must have know that they would get a lot farther with her, so they really flirted with her.
(Did you drink another?) No. I was feeling kind of buzzed already. And I started to talk and laugh a little. That is when two guys came over and gave us two beers. (Bottles?) No. Just two cans. I tried to say “no” but they gave them to us anyway. I told her I had to be getting back home. She asked me, “why”. And I just stammered some answer of having to clean, cook and do something on the computer. But she must have knew I was lying, because she said we’ll leave after our beers are done.
By the time we finished them, I had to pee real bad. (Did they have bathrooms?) Yes, but they were nasty. (How nasty?) You wouldn’t have gone in them. But I had to pee. So, I had to ask nicely for the bathroom key. (Nicely?) Yeah. They must have know I had to pee, because at first, they pretended they didn’t have one. The really fat guy behind the counter said, “If you ask me nice, I’ll give it to you.” And everyone laughed at that. And they listened, as I said, “Could I have the bathroom key?” And he looked at me, squinted his eyes and said, “Why?” I didn’t know to say, and I really had to pee by then. So I asked again, “I need to use your bathroom. Could I please have the key?” (Was it killing you?) Yeah, you know how much I hate to say “please” to anyone for anything.
He kind of laughed again, and I looked at Chantel and she looked at him and gave him a cross look. He looked back at her with that look of, “What-I’m-not-doing-anything-wrong”. I was feeling pretty tipsy then and I said, louder than I expected, “If I don’t get that key I’m going to pee allover your floor”. Well, that did it. (I bet it did.) Everyone’s eyes got big and everyone got quiet for a second. Then they all busted out laughing. “Whoo-eee, well, let me give ya’ ‘dat ‘ole key befo’ ‘dat happens.” And I grabbed it and ran out of the door.
(Where was it?) Around the back. It was just as dirty as the gas station and when I opened the door the smell hit me. (Bad?) Oh, like a out-house. And I haven’t smelled one of those since I was a kid. (Me either.) I thought I was going to gag. But I took a deep breath and went in. The light worked, and there was some toilet paper. (You didn’t sit on the toilet did you? Bob told me he caught crabs that way once.) No I didn’t. I put some toilet paper down first. And no, you don’t get crabs from sitting on a toilet, from sitting on some skank you can, but not a toilet.
When I got back inside, everyone was laughing and talking and when I walked in they went crazy. “So, you is a freaky bitch! Huh!” One black guy said to me. “Are all you white girls like ‘dat?” Another asked me. “Let me see ‘dat again.” Said a third to Chantel. And she showed him her cell phone. Oh my god, she was showing them the pics.
(Oh, shit) Yeah, that’s what I thought. I looked at her and she looked back and said, “Girl, I showed ‘dem ‘da pics of you showing off yo’ ass in the store.” I took a deep breath. Yes I was pissed she showed them without telling me, but I was so glad that she didn’t show them the other pics. “Well, my beer is gone. Are ya’ ready to go?” Instead of arguing with her about showing off the pics, I just said, yes, and quickly paid for the gas.
When we were walking out, I could feel them all watching us. (Especially your asses?) You know it. And if I head once, “White girl wit’ a big fine ass”, I heard it a dozen times.
That was the fastest I’ve ever pumped the gas, and when it got down to the last 20 cents, and started to go at a snails pace, I just turned it off and got back in the car. I have never felt so relived to be back in my car again.
I wanted to say something to Chantel about showing those pics to people, but she was talking on her cell phone the whole ride back. I kind of think, she was stalling for time or something.
While we
were sitting there in traffic, by the light by
We finally made it back, and I swear every guy in a truck or van that could see into my car was staring at us. (Did Chantel notice?) No. She is used to people staring at her, I think. I was about to relax, until we pulled into the trailer park. (?) Everyone in the park was outside. What the hell they were all doing, I don’t know. But everyone was outside.
Now I had a little panic attack. Do I drop her off, drive around a while and wait for everyone to go inside? Or do I just pull up and get out of the car? Everyone will see me dressed like a slut. But if I drive around, the car could stall, or I could be in a wreck. And it was too hot to be driving around.
I drove as slow as I could to the trailer. She acted like she didn’t notice how slow I was driving, but she glanced over at the speedometer, and I knew. She knew what I was doing. But she kept talking, acting oblivious to my panic. The neighbors across the street waved to us, and she waved back. So did one of the small black children riding bikes around.
I couldn’t get out of the car dressed like this. I could never live it down. What could I say?
And the whole drive over, she was watching me. (For what?) I don’t know, well, I didn’t know. But we pulled up to the front of my trailer, and I sat there and I just couldn’t turn off the car engine. If I did that, I would commit to getting out of the car and practically flashing the whole neighborhood, at the same time.
But it was so hot in the car. The sun was burning, I was sweating and still a little tipsy by then. I was hoping she would get out and I could run inside, or maybe just leave and come back later. But she stayed in the car, talking on her cell phone. (Was she sweating, too?) Oh, yeah, but not as much as me. I looked like I took a shower.
Finally I said something like, excuse me, but are we getting out. And said something like, “Hang on Lequisha, wha’ ‘cha wont?” And I asked her again if we were getting out. “Wha’ ‘cha ya’ waiting fo’. Get ya’ ass out.” And she sat there talking on her cell phone. After a few more sweaty seconds, and it was getting hotter and hotter, she said, “I got ta’ go. I’ll call ya’ later, word.” And she looked at me, with a really strange expression on her face.
She was looking at me, right in the eyes…oh-oh, Kelly just pulled up. And she has Mike with her. (Do you got to go?) Yeah, I sent her up to the store to get some stuff for our BBQ tomorrow. (BBQ?) Yeah, something else you will miss. Just think. A nice big BBQ, then you can smoke and relax, and I could suck your cock. (Baby…that sounds so good…when…) And then you could pass out in the back room, I’d turn up the A/C. (Then I could wake up and do it all over again?) Yeah. Hang-on. What! OK! I’ll be right there.
She needs some help with the groceries. I got to go. (Wait! What happened?) Well, I could have told you if you didn’t keep asking stupid questions. Your fault. (Wait! Did you do anything else?) Yep. (Can…you call back later when you are done with the groceries?) I’ll try. But I might not be able. (Can I call you tonight?) Your tonight or my tonight? (My tomorrow morning and your tomorrow night.) OK. (So, ya’ll really did some more stuff?) Oh yeah. (I’m calling.) I’ll be here. Wait a second…what…I’ll be right there. I got to go now. (Talk to you tonight. Love you, baby.) Love you, too. And I need it so bad. (Baby, so do I. It’s so hard. It will be hard until we talk tonight. Can we play a little?) I don’t know. Kelly and her friends may be here tonight. (Well, they could be so noisy they might not hear you moaning and groaning in the back room.) Well, see…I’ll be right there…talk to you tonight. (Bye, baby.)
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