“So that makes it okay for you to hate us?”
“Not okay, understandable. White people are in a position of power that we are not. Just like with the kids that you teach, your racism can cause them far more harm than theirs can cause you. You grade their assignments, you determine what their assignments will be, you decide which students you will put the most effort into and which ones you won’t. Likewise, the ruling majority, the white people in this country determine how many tax dollars will be spent on improving education and providing opportunity for minorities. The predominantly Caucasian corporate leaders determine how high they will allow a minority employee to climb. The predominantly white juries across America and the predominantly white judges and lawmakers determine what kind of treatment a minority will get when he enters a courtroom. Your prejudice has the ability to cause us much greater harm than we could ever cause you.”
“All prejudice is still wrong.”
“No argument there. I’m not condoning anyone’s prejudice. I wish that everyone could be judged on their own individual merits alone without bearing the weight of their entire race. It’s not fair to anyone. But when that shit is coming from a white person, it’s a hundred times more destructive.”
I could tell Kenyatta was still steaming when he left my apartment. He didn’t even hug or kiss me, just smiled, waved, and walked out the door. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if I’d never seen him again. When he came back the next day I was determined not to start another argument with him. I needn’t have worried.
Kenyatta walked in, grabbed me in his arms and kissed me hard while brutishly ripping my nightgown in half. I didn’t care that I’d paid almost fifty dollars for that gown at Victoria’s Secret and would probably never replace it. I just wanted this man. The front door was still open when he laid me on the floor and fucked me like some whore he’d plucked off the corner, hard and aggressive. Just like I liked it. He bit my face and neck so hard he left bruises. My ass was likewise tattooed with his hand print in livid red and purple. At one point he’d even used his belt on me, leaving welts on my back and buttocks as I knelt on my hands and knees and he fucked me hard from behind. I screamed when I came. Then I begged him for more.
“Oh my God! That was incredible! Don’t stop. Fuck me again, Daddy!”
Abruptly, without the slightest warning, Kenyatta pulled me onto his lap, belly across his knees, forehead brushing the floor, ass in the air. He never asked me if I was into being dominated or spanked. He just did it. Before I could say a word, his palm came down on my ass.
“What the—”
He spanked me again and again, reddening my ass cheeks and raising welts. Then he bit me. He leaned down and seized my still sore and throbbing buttocks in his mouth and bit down hard.
“Ahhhhhh! Fuuuuuck! Stop!”
I couldn’t believe he’d just bitten me. It was somehow more disturbing than the spanking. Yet, I was powerfully aroused by it all. He rolled me off his lap and stood. I was still lying there on the living room floor with my legs quivering and my breaths coming in short rapid bursts, Kenyatta’s sweat and semen drying on my belly, when he stooped, picked up his clothes, and began to dress himself.
“You’re leaving?”
“I’ll be back.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“So what was this? Why’d you bite me? What was that spanking for,” I asked still trying to catch my breath.
“Fun. I’ll be back.”
He turned and walked out the door leaving a noticeable absence as if he’d taken a part of me with him. After being single for years, I suddenly felt incredibly alone. If Kenyatta never came back, I knew I’d miss him forever. I couldn’t remember ever feeling that way about anyone. I reached down and rubbed my ass where Kenyatta had spanked me. It was still warm, raw, and sore, sensitive to the touch. When I pulled my hands away, my fingertips were red. He had drawn blood. I stood and locked the front door behind him then ran to the bathroom. Kenyatta may have gone, but he had left me with something, his signature. His teeth marks were embedded in my left buttock. He had broken the skin and the indent of each tooth was clearly visible. Blood dribbled down the back of my leg. I smiled, remembering the feel of the mouth that had caused the damage. I dreamed about him all evening, rubbing my wounded ass and wondering if there was something wrong with me that I had enjoyed the pain, enjoyed submitting to this man I barely knew.
III
He swatted my mop bucket away and it skidded across the floor, splashing suds and water onto the tile. I squeezed the wet rag in my hand as he smacked my bare ass. I knew what was next.
I moaned in ecstasy as much as pain, anticipating his length filling me. I felt his rough hands grab my hips, his strong fingers kneading the flesh, gripping hard as he forced his solid length inside of me. He entered easily. I was already wet from anticipation. Still, my breath caught in my throat as his flesh entered mine. His cock was so long it still caused me pain even after all these months. That first thrust felt as if the head of his cock jabbed my ribcage. I gasped in shock then moaned again as a shudder went from between my thighs all the way up my spine. He felt so good I wanted to scream. I could feel his hard chest against my back, his thighs against the back of mine, his breath against my cheek, as he thrust that magnificent organ of his deeper inside of me.
“I love you, master. I love you,” I said.
His only reply was a tug of my hair and his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he pounded deeper within me. I collapsed to the tile floor, unable to support myself on my hands and knees with both his weight and the weight of the chains pressing down on me. He continued to fuck me, harder now. He pulled my hips hard against him to meet his thrusts. Our rhythm was now something violent and powerful. He smacked my ass over and over as he fucked me. I felt his thumb lubed with saliva slide between my buttocks and into my ass and I knew what was coming next. He was so large that I had always had difficulty taking him this way. So, of course he had made anal sex a regular part of our love-play. Now he was even less gentle than normal. He went slow at first, easing it in inch by inch as he held himself up on his powerful arms and gradually descended until his entire length slid inside me. It was excruciating. I felt my stomach cramp as his erection pulsed and pounded within my distended rectum. Then he became more forceful, aggressively jack-hammering his thick cock in and out of my ass as if he were trying to drive me right through the floorboards. He reached around and wrapped one of his massive biceps around my throat and constricted until my windpipe slammed shut.
Between the pain in my anus and the sudden loss of oxygen, I began to panic. Spots danced before my eyes and I thrashed and bucked, panicking as everything began to go dark, trying to free myself. I scratched at his hands and arms and tried to pry his arm from around my throat, but it was like trying to bend iron. Then he reached his other arm beneath me as he dropped his entire weight onto my back, still thrusting relentlessly.
His fingers found my clitoris easily and he slipped his index finger first inside me to wet it with my juices before flicking it rapidly back and forth across my swollen clit. The pain, the loss of oxygen, and now the delirious sensations radiating from my sex brought me to the most explosive orgasm I could remember. Every muscle contracted as if shocked with a taser and then vibrated and convulsed as waves of ecstasy tore through my helpless body. My arms and legs thrashed and kicked. My back arched and a scream tore from my throat as Kenyatta finally relaxed his grip. My asshole contracted around my master’s cock and I came again while Kenyatta continued fucking my sore and swollen anus with his mesomorphic organ, still fingering my engorged clit. He bit the back of my neck and growled and I knew he was about to cum. He withdrew his cock from my asshole abruptly. It felt as if he had turned it inside out. I screamed in pain and my guts cramped again. My rectum was so badly chafed it felt like it was on fire. Kenyatta grabbed one of my arms and turned me over.