Thursday, March 17, 2011

Say It

Part 1

It was a command that I had no choice to obey.

How did he know? One minute we were typical office coworkers, the next he had me pinned against the copier and was twisting my nipples.

My body responded as soon as he started twisting my tits. Out of instinct or reflex I couldn’t help but start grinding back against the massive Black bulge that was pressed against my ass.

“What are you doing?” As my body humped helplessly against commanding erection my mind tried to process what was happening to me. It was as if I was a puppet and my strings were tied directly to my nipples. All he had to do was tug on them and I dance to his command.

He whispered into my ears. “I am the Master. You are the slave.”

“I don’t understand? Why are you doing this.” His only response was to twist harder, forcing my body to arch more into him, and repeat, “I am the Master. You are the slave.”

This time he pulled out on my tits causing me to gasp in pain/pleasure.

It was like he was tuning me. My body responded differently depending upon how he twisted and pulled and pinched my titties. Pull one way and I would start to violently hump into him. Another and my ass cheeks had no choice but to try and milk his throbbing cock. All the time he kept insistently repeating to me, “I am the Master. You are the slave.”

Eventually my mind snapped.

I needed him inside me. My mind didn’t care about what he was doing, or why he was doing it. I needed him inside me. “Please fuck me. Please.” I was a puppet craving to be filled by its owner.

“Say it.”

“Oh God!” I didn’t care who heard me. I needed to beg. My nipples were the center of the universe and they told me that I needed to be fucked, hard. “Please fuck me. I need you inside me.”

“I am the Master. You are the slave. Say it.”  

It was like I was having an out of body experience. I started to notice every detail. His masculine smell. The feel of his breath on my ear. His dark, thick powerful hands. The wonderful fact that no matter how violently I gyrated he didn’t budge an inch.

“I am the Master. You are the slave. Say it.”

Then my whole world clicked.

“You are the Master. I am the slave.”

Soon we were chanting it together.

“I am the Master. You are the slave.”
“You are the Master. I am the slave.”
“I am the Master. You are the slave.”
“You are the Master. I am the slave.”

All the time my body danced under the command of his masterful hands.

I was beyond the hunger; beyond the need. I just was.

Then he left.

One minute I had all of life’s mysteries open before me, the next I was cast into a dark pit of empty despair.


“Get out your phone.”

I pulled my cell phone out of my pants pocket.

“Now call her, and tell her what you’re doing and tell her that you’re breaking up with her and why you’re breaking up with her, and make it good.”

My hands were shaking as i dialed my girlfriends phone number. As her phone ringed I prayed she wouldn’t pick up.

“Hey stranger! What are you doing up so late?”

I couldn’t speak.


His hand gently slapped my face. “Tell her.” I knew He could slap a lot harder.

“Karen, I’ve got to tell you something.”

“Michael, are you ok?”

“Tell her what you’re doing.” 

I was on the phone with my girlfriend about to destroy my life.

“Karen, I’m on the floor. I’m...” As I started to stutter he tilted my head up and gave me a look that forced the words out of me. 

“I’m kneeling on the floor between Malcolm’s legs.”

“Oh gawd! What’d you do, loose a bet?”

I had to hurry and get it out. “Ever since I overheard Lisa telling you about how big Malcolm’s dick was I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind.”

“But Michael, he’s your best friend.” Suddenly she became serious,

“I can’t be his friend any more. I can’t be his friend and I can’t be your boyfriend any more.”

“You’re breaking up with me? You’re fucking breaking up with me on the mother fucking phone?”

“I have to. I have to right now. I’m sorry Karen, but I’m a faggot. For the last half hour I’ve been kneeling between Malcolm’s legs begging to see his cock.”

“Jesus. Michael, you’re disgusting. This is so fucking gross. We’ve been dating for almost two years, Michael. You certainly didn’t fuck me like a faggot.” 

“Something just switched in my brain, Karen.” As I spilled out my soul I stared intently at Malcolm’s crotch. I could see it bulging, getting a “rise” out of my humiliation.

“I’ve been obsessing out it for weeks. He could tell. He could tell that there was something different about me. That’s because every chance I could I was in my room jerking off thinking about his Big Black Dick.”

“THAT’S where you’ve fucking been?!! Fuck!”

“He says that I’m not allowed to call him by his first name any more. He says that I have to call him Sir from now on. Sir’s been gracious enough to let me kneel between his legs and confess to Him what a submissive white sissy I am. He says that he doesn’t have any interest in a faggot sucking his dick, but that he’ll let me see it, and try to find a Black Master that would be willing to own me and train me to be a good sissy faggot slave.”

“Drop dead, faggot. I hope you die.” And with that last bridge to normalcy was burned. 

“Well, you did it.” As he talked he started to pull down his pants. “Man, I thought you were different.” He was teasing me. “But you’re not.” He was driving me crazy. “Just another fucked up white boy obsessed with Black Men’s dicks.” One the one hand he was driving me crazy with how slow he was going. “Fooling yourself into thinking you’re a man.” On the other I didn’t want this moment to end. “All the while worshipping Black Cock.” This was the most perfect moment of my life. “You’re lucky we found out what a total Black cock slut you were now.” I never wanted it to end. “Imagine how much it would suck if you didn’t learn the truth until you were an old fart.” Sir was right. I was lucky.

“Should I wait?” His jeans were down around his ankles, leaving a massive bulge covered by white briefs.

“I’m thinking I should make you wait.” There it was, so close to my face. I could clearly see the outline of large head and think shaft. I’ve never studied anything more closely. All i could hear in my head was the words, "please no, please no, please no," looping over and over again.

“You don’t want this to end so quickly, do you.” 

I did.

I didn’t.

“I shook my head no.”

“Tell you what. Tomorrow if you do a good job finding you some clothes that really show off what a faggot you are then maybe I’ll let you see it. And while you’re doing that, I’ll ask around for a gay Brother that might be interested in turning out a new white faggot.”

All i could do was stare at the most thing that I have ever seen and say, “thank You, Sir.”