Patrick and I stayed at Disney for seven nights. The plan was to go to one of the parks for the first four days and for the other two days we would either take advantage of the amenities at the resort, which there were quite a few or go back to one of the parks if we felt we missed something or if I just wanted to go back. We planned on eating our Thanksgiving meal at the Brown Derby in the Disney Hollywood Studio Park.
I dressed for comfort. I wore a pair of light blue yoga shorts, which underneath I was wearing a thong to avoid panty lines because the yoga shorts were tight. I wore a matching sports crop top. Yes, I was well aware of how the tight stretchy material of the shorts was on my body and I knew they would most likely ride up my butt crack throughout the day and even at times the possibility of forming a “camel toe” in the front. But they were comfortable.
The first Disney Park we went to was on Monday and to the Magic Kingdom. I thought it was amazing! I know some people dislike Disney World and Disney Land and will say it’s too expensive, too crowded, not the same with all the new Covid restrictions, or dislike it for other reasons. I loved it! True, the expense was not something I did not have to worry about, but I would have loved even if I was on a low budget.
The first thing we did when we got past the entrance gate was I bought myself Mickey Mouse Ears with my name on the cap. I won’t go into every detail of the parks because that would take a long time, but we did everything we could do, saw all the shows, saw the parade, rode every ride, and I even liked the Hall of Presidents. Any souvenirs we purchased we did not have to carry around since we stayed at one of the resorts, the shops would deliver the items to our room. We ate lunch in Cinderella’s Castle and ate with the Disney Princesses.
On Tom Sawyer’s Island, I thought about trying to find a secluded location in the woods to give Patrick a blow job but thought better of it. I did not want to risk getting caught and more importantly any kids seeing it.
The Magic Kingdom Park closed at eight in the evening after a spectacular firework show in front of Cinderella’s Castle. Tinker Bell even flew from the top of the Castle to the ground! Yes I know it was a woman on a zip line but it was still awesome. By the time we got back to the hotel it was after nine and we ate dinner at the restaurant in the resort. When we got to our suite all my souvenirs were in shopping bags in the room.
I had purchased something special to wear for Patrick that night. When I saw it in one of the shops I had to have it and it gave me an idea, but it was late and I was too exhausted to follow up on it that night. Instead, I drew a bubble bath in the large tub and convinced Patrick to join me. During the bath we bathed one another and then I asked him to lay back and I straddled him and rode his cock. We had to call for more towels to mop up the water on the bathroom floor. It was funny and I found it amusing how Patrick grumbled at first when I suggested the bath. He was not one for baths and he said men don’t take baths.
Tuesday we went to The Animal Kingdom Park and it closed earlier at five. That evening we went back to Disney Village and went to one of the nightclubs. I love to dance but Patrick does not dance so with his permission I danced with other men. I dance naughty and I was rubbing and grinding my body against the other men and even some women while Patrick watched. He got turned on by watching me dance like that with other people and watching them put their hands on my body.
When I was dancing with a very pretty, tall, athletic blonde girl, who I was also making out with while we slow danced, she suggested she and I leave together. She was a local and worked at Disney as a “boat captain” on the Jungle Cruise Ride. She told me several times how great my body was as she ran her hands over my ass and said she had never been with a black girl before. I told her I was with someone and pointed to Patrick. The girl even suggested she would not have any issue with joining us that night because she wanted to be with me badly.
There may have been a time I would have suggested she come back to the hotel with Patrick and me and I had no problem being her “token first-time black girl fuck”. I had been that to both white guys and a few girls in the past, but I declined her offer. This trip was for me and Patrick and I didn’t want to include anyone else. I did not want to share Patrick that week.
Wednesday I suggested we not go to a park, the next day was Thanksgiving and we would be going to Disney Studios, and the day after we could go to Epcot. We slept late, or at least I did, Patrick was up early as he usually is. I got up a little after ten in the morning. I took advantage of the hotel’s spa area and was pampered. The weather was so warm that I was even able to put on my two-piece swimsuit. I did not wear my bikini because it was more revealing. I did not have an issue with wearing such a bikini in public, but there would be children at the pool.
While the two-piece may have covered up more flesh than my bikini would have, it still could not hide the curves of my butt or breasts. I enjoyed and even subtlety teased the men who would look at me when their wives or girlfriends were not looking. Patrick rented some gold clubs and took advantage of the resort’s golf course. We didn’t see each other all day. I liked that Patrick was not obsessive that when we went on our trips he felt he had to spend every moment with me and we often did separate things. Feeling well-rested I thought that night would be perfect to act out the idea for a sexy game I wanted to play with Patrick.
When I got back to the room it was a little after four and Patrick apparently had just gotten back to the room as well. He was still wearing the same clothes he played golf in. He asked if I was hungry and I told him I had something to eat by the pool. He said we could relax around the room before we went to dinner. He walked to me and put his arms around me and kissed me. When his hands started to make their way under the beach outerwear I had over the top of my swimsuit I playfully pushed him away.
“I need a shower,” I told him. I looked over my shoulder as I walked into the bedroom of the suite. “I think we should eat in tonight. Order room service,” I told him with a grin.
In the room took off my clothes and went into the bathroom to take a shower. After I dried off I wrapped the towel around my body and opened my makeup bag. I pulled out a prescription pill bottle with Patrick’s name on it.
Muttering under my breath that I hoped Patrick would not get mad at me; I opened the bottle and took out a small blue pill. Giggling, I wrapped the pill in a tissue and used the bottom of a glass to crush it. I knew he would not be mad at me, especially with what I was going to allow him to do to my body that night. Patrick did not pack the prescription to take on our trip, but I snuck it in my makeup bag. When I packed my bags for our trip I made sure I put my makeup bag in one of the suitcases I would check in and not carry on the plane. I did not security to find it if they did a bag search when it went through the X-ray.
Patrick did not need Viagra. He took it sometimes for recreational purposes. The recreation use was when he wanted to fuck my brains out almost all night long or take it sometimes when the occasion arose when we let others join us in bed and he wanted to make the most out of the situation.
I walked into the living area of the suite and Patrick was watching ESPN, he enjoyed all sports. Still wearing just a towel, I opened the refrigerator and took out a beer.
“Thirsty. The sun drained me when I was at the pool,” I told Patrick when he looked over his shoulder at me.
He did not see that I had a bottle of beer, which was good because he knew I did not drink beer. I grabbed a straw and hurried back to the bedroom. I twisted open the bottle cap, went into the bathroom, and put the crushed pill into the bottle of beer. I used the straw to stir the contents of the bottle and took a small sip to make sure the beer did not taste funny. I grimaced at the taste, not that it tasted strange, I just did not like the taste of beer. Hoping it tasted like just a beer, I went back into the main area of the suite.
“Patrick, I got a beer and don’t want it. Can you finish it for me?” I asked him.
Patrick took the beer. “Why did you get a beer? You don’t like beer?”
I shrugged, “I don’t know,” I whined out, “just felt like I wanted one for some reason and then I don’t.”
Patrick chuckled, looked at me like I was crazy, and started drinking the beer.
“I am going to put on my makeup and get dressed now,” I told him and went back into the room.
“If we are staying in, you don’t need to worry about makeup,” he told me.
“God,” I rolled my eyes and feigned exasperation, “after thousands and thousands of years men will never understand the vanity of women.”
Patrick laughed and continued to drink his beer and watch ESPN. I knew he would discover my spiking of his drink in about thirty to forty-five minutes. I giggled as I walked back into the bedroom. I also knew he would not be mad, especially after what I had planned for us to do.
I went into the bathroom and started on my makeup. I was going to take my time to let the Viagra kick in. I took my time with my makeup to get it right. I used more mascara on my lashes than normal to make them look longer, around my eyes I did an ancient Egyptian/African style blending blue and black eye shadow, using a wide eyeliner pencil to make curvy lines under my eyes and extending out of the corner of my eyes. I highlighted my lips with a makeup pencil to make them look even fuller than they are. I used a flesh tone on my lips that were just a shade lighter than my skin color and then used red lipstick to paint a strip in the center of my upper and bottom lips. My hair I left as it was. With my braids and long extensions, I did not need to do anything with my hair unless it was to go to the salon to get the braids and extensions redone if they became loose.
I could give many tips to a white man who wants to date a black woman or is just starting to date a black woman, but here is a very important one. Never ask a black woman about her hair. That’s either a very long conversation that should only be started when you have been dating her for a while or a short conversation where she gets mad when you don’t know her that well. Be safe and just don’t do it.
I got the outfit I purchased at the Magic Kingdom Park and put it on. It was a little tight, especially around my chest and butt area. Due to my short height, I had to buy a smaller size for it to fit better than a larger size. I had that problem with a lot of my clothes because of the curves of my chest and butt. Not that I ever complained, I liked wearing clothes that were tight around my breasts and ass. The outfit even had slippers for my feet.
Once dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. This was going to be a lot of fun. The outfit was a sky blue, Princess Jasmine costume that Patrick had no idea I purchased. I put on the gold tiara that came with the costume and walked into the living area of the hotel suite. I thought I looked very adorable and sexy and it was a shame that I probably would not be wearing the costume for long.
I saw Patrick still sitting on the couch and watching something about college football on ESPN and I noticed he would shift his body and pull at the legs of his shorts. The Viagra had kicked in. I grinned and walked to place myself in front of him. I smiled and got on my knees.
There may be other black people reading this next part, especially a black female, who would revoke my “blackness card”, but I didn’t care. It is what I enjoy sometimes ever since high school when I dated or hooked up with white boys. I have had other black girls, including so-called friends, who have judged me for being with white boys; but I didn’t care. I was attracted to who I was attracted to. I did have a reputation of being a slut in high school, but again I did not care or give it a second thought. Patrick gave me a curious look and smiled and I knew he liked what he saw.
I also want to add, that while I was working as an escort I did sexual things I did not enjoy just for the money; what Patrick and I did that night was completely consensual for both of us. There may be people who read this and think what they are about to read I did for the money and did not enjoy. That is partly true.
Yes, Patrick and I had a financial arrangement and that did include the exchange of money and gifts and other things for sex. Yes, we cared for one another, but we both knew it was just that, a financial arrangement. That being said, what I did with Patrick and for him sexually I enjoyed a great deal and it was just not for the money. It was for my pleasure and to satisfy my taboo fetishes as well.
I got on my knees and hugged Patrick’s legs, “Please, Sir, please don’t give me to your men like you did my sisters and my mother? I will be good to you. I promise.” I hugged his legs tighter, “You and your slavers have conquered our country and you can put me on the slave ship and sell me at auction, but I beg for you not to, Sir. You…you can claim me as you own, please.”
Patrick quickly figured out what I was doing and placed his hand on my cheek and caressed it, “I admit you are much more beautiful than your sisters and your mother is too old for my tastes, but why should I claim you for my own? You would fetch a small fortune on the auction blocks in America.”
I suppressed a giggle and was glad he caught on so quickly. I looked up at him and smiled seductively, “I have never been with a man before, and being a virgin should please you. I will be yours, just please don’t give me to your men for them to use me.” I then lowered my head to look at the floor.
Patrick stood up and as he did so he gently cupped my chin and lifted my head to look at him, “It seems you can also be a wicked girl who needs to be punished for something like spiking your owner’s drink.”
I did giggle then. “I wanted my new Master to enjoy his new property. To show him how willing I am to please him so he would not sell me. To show him I am willing to fulfill his every desire.”
I looked at his crotch and could see the outline of his hard cock under his shorts. I reached up to touch it and with one hand, Patrick grabbed my wrists and held my arms above my head.
“I don’t think my new property understands what she has done.” He told me as he unbuckled his belt and took it off with his free hand. “I hope she understands after what she has done that she going to have to take care of what she caused and her new Master’s cock is going to need a lot of attention after what she has done.”
I swallowed hard out of nervousness. Not because I knew that due to the Viagra Patrick would be going to be able not only to get erect often or stay erect but also when he took the pill he took longer to orgasm and he was going to fuck my brains out for a long time. He had a great deal of stamina and endurance even without the pill. I was looking forward to that. What made me nervous was I did not know what he was going to do with the belt. I was not afraid he would hurt me; ok yes he most likely would hurt me some but in a manner I would enjoy. I received pleasure that some pain gave me, and I knew Patrick knew how far he could go. It was just the anticipation of it that made me nervous.
The belt was a soft material cargo belt. Patrick pulled me to my feet without saying a word, pushed me to turn around, and pulled my arms down and behind my back. He used the belt to bind my hands behind me. I playfully struggled for the purpose of the “game” and he gave me a hard swat on my butt and I cried out in a loud whimper. That was not pretend. It hurt but it also excited me.
“Back on your knees,” He told me when my hands were tied behind me.
I got back on my knees and twisted and turned my wrists and hands to try and undo the knot. Although I knew it would be useless I had to try to test the knot. Patrick was an expert at knot tying and I teased him sometimes about if he was not in the Navy instead of the Marines. I knew that irked him but it was fun.
“Does this mean that you are not going to sell me?” I asked.
Patrick grinned, “Oh I intend to sell you. I intend to sell you to a certain brothel in New Orleans that caters to the most wicked aristocratic men and women of the city. They will pay a great deal of money for a beautiful black whore with wonderful breasts and an ass like yours. They will pay high dollars to use you for their debauchery. I intend to sell you for gold, not paper currency.” Patrick caressed my cheek again, “But in the meantime, I intend on breaking you in tonight and for you to warm my bed on the voyage to America. I am going to teach you how men can get pleasure from parts of your body you never knew they could. You will no longer be a spoiled, pampered, princess but a black whore for white men and women to use for their perverse pleasures.”
I looked down at the floor again and suppressed another giggle. I was getting excited about how Patrick was going along with the roleplaying game.
“But…but wouldn’t they pay more for a virgin?” I asked play acting as if I was trying to talk my way out of Patrick fucking me and the other things he was going to do to me.
Patrick chuckled, “A virgin? No. They want a whore who can endure what they will do to her and not some innocent virgin who does not know how to please them. On the voyage you will be used by me every night,” he grinned at me again, “and it’s a long voyage to America.”
“But you can’t. I am a princess and the daughter of a great African King. You…you can’t do this to me.” I pleaded.
Patrick laughed, “Wrong,” he said in a calm but forceful tone, “your kingdom is destroyed, your father I killed, your royal sisters and mother are now entertainment for my men, and your people are in chains. You are no longer a princess.” He then shrugged his shoulders, “It matters not if you refuse. There are plenty of women of your country in the slave holds of my ships. I am sure one of them would do what is needed for a more comfortable passage.” He gave me a mischievous grin, “You can spend the entire voyage servicing the crew of my flagship. Four hundred men total.”
I feigned defeat and sighed, “I…I agree to be yours,” I looked up at Patrick, “Master.” I added.
I am not into the whole BDSM lifestyle. Yes, I enjoyed some aspects of it, such as the bondage, and some of the pain that could be involved; being dominated by a white man and verbally and physically humiliated by a white man was a very desirable fetish of mine. It was more like a game I enjoyed playing from time to time when I was in the mood for rough sex. While I enjoyed rough sex with black men also, I never went as far as I would go when with a white man or even a white girl. Yes, I enjoyed being dominated by white girls. See what I mean about my “blackness card” being revoked.
Patrick reached down and again caressed my cheek with his right hand, “What is your name, girl?”
“Princess Zuri,” I answered. That was a name that came to my mind quickly because that was the name I used when I was an escort. I chose it because it means “beautiful” in Swahili.
Patrick quickly brought up his left hand and grabbed a handful of my braids. He was careful not to grab below where my extensions started and pulled my head up by my hair. At the same time, his right hand grabbed my chin and he gripped it tight. I whimpered out loudly but the pain of having my hair pulled and his grip on my jaw and the humiliation of it at the hands of a strong, masculine white man turned me on.
“Wrong!” He snapped with anger that while I knew was not real, still made me shiver with excitement and a little fear. “You no longer have a name until I give you one. Right now you are known only as Black Whore.” Patrick pulled my hair again and I gave another whimper, “Now what is your name?”
“Black Whore,” I answered him. With his hand closed on my jaw, it sounded like “Ack ore”.
Yes, yet another reason for my “blackness card” to be revoked. I had a strong fetish when having rough sex or being dominated by a white man or white girl. I got off on and was very turned on when my white partner would emphasize the differences between our race and the color of our skin. I got off on when they would refer to me as a “black whore”, “black slut”, etc. I got very aroused when they would say things such as, “going to fuck your black pussy with my white cock”, or “Suck this white cock with your black mouth” or when a white girl would say similar things. It turned me when my white partner made me call myself a “black whore” or “black slut” or similar humiliating things.
I didn’t consider that “racial play”. To me, racial play consisted of using crude slang terms such as the “N” word to refer to my race and which I did find offensive. Unlike some white lovers, I have had in the past or white clients I had in the past, Patrick knew just how far to go without offending me.
Patrick let go of both my hair and my chin and then pulled down his shorts and then his underwear until they fell to his ankles. His white cock sprang up once it was free. He stepped out of his clothes and backed away from me a short distance.
“Now, Black Whore, come and use that black mouth on my white cock and let me judge how much training you will need before you are sold.”
“Yes, Master,” I said and walked on my knees to him.
When my head was not even an inch from his penis, I inhaled deeply and a faint sigh escaped my mouth. I could smell the masculine scent of his crotch, which was stronger than normal since he had been playing golf and had yet to shower. I inhaled again to catch more of the musky, manly scent that I found intoxicating.
I looked up at Patrick, “I…I have never done this before, Master. I don’t think I can? It seems such a vulgar thing to do.”
Patrick again grabbed a handful of my braids close to my scalp and pulled my head back. I whimpered from the pain of it but also due to the pleasurable feeling that seemed too coarse through my body and gave me a shudder of excitement.
“Perhaps you would rather learn how to use your black mouth on a white cock from some of my men? I could line up a hundred of them in front of you and you would suck them all off, one after another.”
I pressed my face to his crotch and my body to his thighs, which made his grip on my hair pull even harder. “No, Please, Master, don’t do that. Please! I will be a good girl for you. I will be a good whore for you, Master,” I begged him.
Patrick pulled my hair again to force my head up to look at him. “A whore? What kind of whore are you?” He asked.
“A…a black whore, Master.”
“Remember that,” he let go of my hair. “Now suck my white cock.”
“What…what am I to do when you reach the peak of your pleasure, Master?” I asked in a feigned innocent tone.
He smiled down at me, “I think you know.”
“Are they all so big?” I asked trying to sound nervous. “I don’t know if it will fit.”
Patrick chuckled, “Stop stalling, black whore. If your thick, full lips are not around my cock by the time I count to ten I will find one of your sisters or your mother. As many times as they have been fucked by now I am sure one of them would trade places with you and only have to service one man for the voyage while you get all your holes used by my crew.”
He actually started to count. I gave him a faux look of disgust and by the time he got to seven, I moved my mouth to his large white penis. Wanting to play the game I started and play innocent, I did not take his cock in my mouth at first. I tentatively ran my tongue up the shaft until it reached the large bulbous head of his cock and then back down. I did that several times and each time I started I licked his cock with more eagerness. I then parted my lips and took him in my mouth.
I liked giving blow jobs very much and preferred to use my hands as well as my mouth, but since my hands were tied behind my back I used just my mouth on Patrick. I liked to start slow and gather saliva in my mouth so it will lubricate the man’s shaft and I did just that. I moved my head back and forth slowly and used my tongue on the tip of his cock, making circular motions over his large head. I went slow for several moments as Patrick kept his hands down at his sides and then started bobbing my head back and forth faster as I took him deeper down my throat.
While I was sucking his dick, Patrick would sometimes moan or tell me I was doing a good job at being his “black whore cocksucker”.
I think I give a great blow job and can deep throat a man, but Patrick’s penis is not only rather long but also has a large circumference. As I tried to take him deeper down my throat I gagged a few times and choked and had to remove my mouth from his cock to catch my breath a few times. This went on for about eight minutes. My plan of spiking his beer with Viagra did have one drawback for me at that moment; it took him so much longer to orgasm when he took one of the “magic blue pills.” When he was fucking me it was great, but sucking his large cock was different. Not that I did not enjoy sucking his cock and him taking a longer time to orgasm. I liked sucking cock a great deal. Of course, it would have been easier if I could have used my hands.
I pulled my mouth off his cock again, gagged and coughed and my saliva ran down my chin. “I am sorry, Master. I am trying to please you,” I said as I kept in character.
“You are doing a fine job, black whore. Just keep making me feel good,” he told me.
I smiled at his patience. I was about to take his penis in my mouth again when I had another desire. It would be out of my innocent girl character, but I wanted to do it, hell I enjoyed doing it.
I started licking his cock again and then down past his testicles to his perineum. Patrick spread his legs further about for me as I licked and sucked the area between his balls and butthole. He moaned out as I kept licking the area as I enjoyed the tastes and scent. As I licked him for several moments I started to wiggle and twist my body under his spread legs until I had turned ninety degrees and then ran my tongue around his butthole.
Rimming and putting my tongue up a man’s or a woman’s ass was another fetish I had. If that was not odd enough I would only do that to a white man. I did not care to rim a black man’s butt. Women, it did not matter their race, I enjoyed doing it to all women I have had sex with.
Patrick moaned as my tongue made circles around his hole and he reached behind himself and grabbed a handful of my braids and pulled my head back.
“You are being a disgusting black slut. There may be hope for you yet,” he told me and pulled my hair harder and I let out a whimper. “Go ahead, black whore, and finish what you started. Put that nasty tongue up my ass.” He let go of my hair.
“Yes, Master.”
I moved my face up to his butt cheeks and put my tongue inside his butt. Even though it was November, we were in Central Florida and the day had been warm and humid. Patrick had sweated and I could smell and taste the musky, pungent masculinity of the result of Patrick having been on the golf course all day. I savored the taste and scent and it turned me on.
As I licked and rimmed and tongued Patrick’s butt, I was making whimpering and lapping sounds. The area around his hole and perineum was soon slick and glistening by my slobbering. I could see his black hairs in the area were matted together or on his skin by my spit. Patrick put his right hand behind his back and turned it palm up.
“Spit on it, Black Whore,” He ordered me.
I had accumulated a mouth full of saliva and I opened my mouth above his hand and my spit drooled into his palm until there was none left in my mouth. I then spit twice into his hand.
Patrick laughed. “You are such a disgusting African slut,” he taunted me.
When Patrick moved his hand away I went back to rimming and licking and tonguing his ass. He placed his now lubricated hand on his cock and started to slowly jerk himself. The mix of my lapping sounds, me making “ummm, ummm” moans, and his masculine moans were sexy to me. I don’t know how long I used my tongue on him but it was quite a while and my tongue started to get tired and go numb. While I was enjoying what I was doing it was a relief when Patrick once again reached behind himself, grabbed a handful of my hair, and roughly pulled my head back. He pulled my hair much harder than previous times and my whines from the pain were louder.
“That’s enough of that. It’s time to go back to sucking my cock,” he said as he pulled me by my hair to kneel in front of him again.
As Patrick pulled me by my hair around his body, I did my best to walk on my knees to keep up with him and try and loosen the tension on my hair. Having my hands tied behind my back made it more difficult and I fell over on my side. Patrick laughed at my distress and let go of my hair. He moved to the sofa and sat on the edge of the cushion.
“What are you waiting for? Get your fat, black ass up and come over here and suck my cock,” He commanded me in a harsh tone.
“It’s not fat,” I mumbled out.
While I knew what he said about my butt was part of the game and yes I had a fantastic, large bubble butt, it was tight and firm. I worked out at the gym in my apartment building, worked out on my Peloton, and recently started the Aerial Ribbon Workout to keep my ass tight as well as keep the rest of my body fit. I didn’t drink much and I didn’t do drugs but working out was almost like an addiction to me. So yes, I knew that his intention was part of our game and to humiliate me in ways I enjoy during “sex games” like we were doing; it still hurt my feelings.
“What was that? What did my black slut say?”
I looked up at Patrick, “My ass is not fat.”
Patrick laughed at me. “So the princess has some defiance still in her yet,” he said after he stopped laughing. “Good. I thought it was disappointing how easily you submitted. I am glad I get to break you tonight.” Patrick took his large, erect penis in his right hand and held it. “Now get your fat, black ass over here and suck my white cock,” He told me in a commanding tone and emphasized the word fat.
I rolled over and started to get back on my knees. With my hands tied behind my back, it was not as easy to do. It wasn’t too difficult however because I do a lot of exercises that keep me flexible and can work my body easily, just was not as easy if I had the use of my hands.
“Stop!” Patrick shouted and it made me flinch and I was not play-acting the flinch. “On your belly. Crawl to me on your stomach.”
I gave him a look that said, “Are you serious?” Patrick did not move a muscle as he held his cock in his hand.
I swallowed hard and started to move to him.
“Stop!” he ordered and I stopped. “Turn around and move toward me – backward. I want to see that fat, black ass as you come to me.”
I turned around and moved to Patrick like an inchworm. I brought my knees to my chest, my ass was up in the air and exposed for his enjoyment, and I pushed myself toward him. To be treated like that, especially by a white man, was humiliating and it was degrading and it excited me and aroused me even more sexually. It took about four, maybe five inchworm movements to reach Patrick. Once I got to him I turned my body around. Patrick again grabbed my hair and pulled me to my knees. I briefly thought I would have no hair left on my head if he kept pulling it the way he did.
“I am going to teach you tonight what you are,” he said still gripping my hair as I whimpered again. “I own your fat black ass now. I will own you until I sell your fat black ass in America. You will learn you are only what I let you be. You will learn you are what I tell you to be. If I tell you that you have a fat ass, then you have a fat ass. Understood?”
“Yes, Master,” I whined out.
“What type of ass do you have?” He asked and gave my hair a hard tug.
“A…A fat black ass, Master.”
“Now put my cock between those fat black lips.” He let go of my hair.
I once again started slow and teased his cock with my mouth and tongue. I had just started when Patrick again pulled my hair and pulled my head back!
“What…what did I do wrong?” I asked in a pleading voice.
“I am tired of your teasing. I want you to suck my cock hard and take it all the way down your throat.”
Patrick then pushed my head down and I opened my mouth and he kept pushing and pushing as his cock went further down my throat. I gagged and choked but he kept pushing until my lips were pressed against his pubic hairs. As I tried to pull my head up, Patrick held it in place. I gagged again and gave a choking cough and saliva flowed out of my mouth. Patrick held me there for a moment and pulled my head up and his cock popped out of my mouth.
I gagged and coughed as I gasped for air. Once I caught my breath, he pushed my head back down and once more forced it to take his entire big cock down my throat. He repeated that process several more times and told me that is how a proper black whore sucks cock. As I was gasping for breath once again, Patrick pushed my head down once more. This time when my nose touched his crotch he pinched it with the fingers of his left hand and I could not breathe.
I tried to lift my head but Patrick held me tight for a little linger and finally released my nose and my head. An abundance of saliva poured out of my mouth and it was thick and mucus-like. It ran down my chin and I even had thin, clear snot running out of my nose and tears running down my face that was streaked black from my mascara.
After I caught my breath, he once again grabbed the back of my head and forced his cock down my throat, and once again pinched my nose. Patrick did that to me several more times. The last time, as I kneeled in front of him choking and gasping for air, he stood up and stood in front of me. He ran his hand over my cheek. I flinched thinking he was once again going to force his penis in my mouth, but instead, he caressed my cheek.
“You like that don’t you, black whore?” He asked.
“No, Master,” I answered. “I couldn’t breathe.” I lied for the game I started. I did like it. I liked it very much.
I got turned on by such an act when white men dominated me sexually. Patrick knew I did or he would not have done it. He knew my weird, taboo fetishes and kinks and how I liked to be treated during rough sex with a white lover. I knew if I didn’t enjoy it he would not treat me as he was. I also knew he enjoyed it as well.
Patrick chuckled at my answer, “Well I will train you to enjoy it.”
He grabbed the back of my head and pushed it down to put his cock in my mouth again. He did not force me to deep throat it this time, but instead held my head still and thrust his hips to fuck my mouth. He fucked my mouth as I again gagged some and more, thick mucus saliva ran out of my mouth and I made muffled whimpers and whines and also a gulping sound as his cock thrust in and out of my mouth. Patrick grunted and moaned and kept telling me to take his white cock and telling me he was going to train me to be a great black, whore cocksucker.
When he announced he was going to cum, he pulled out of my mouth, and still holding my head still he told me to open my mouth. He placed the large head of his cock about an inch from my open mouth and started stroking his white cock hard and fast. It was well lubricated from my thick spit. Patrick made masculine moans and grunts when he orgasmed.
His cum was thick, warm, and sticky as it shot from his cock and splashed on my face. There was an abundance of his cum and what made it into my mouth I eagerly swallowed while other blasts of his wonderful cum sprayed on my face. When his orgasm finished, without being told, I put my mouth around his cock and licked and sucked him clean to get more of his delicious cum. Patrick had to pull my head back by my hair to make me stop and looked down at me.
‘Now you look like a proper whore and not a pampered, spoiled princess,” he told me and chuckled again.
I could only imagine how I looked with his cum on my face, snot running out of my nose, my cheeks streaked with mascara-filled tears, and spittle running down my chin. I looked down and my chest and saw the top of my Princess Jasmine outfit was wet from my spit and his cum. I knew it was ruined but I could always buy another one. My princess tiara was laying on the floor, long since removed from my head.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Aren’t you going to think me for making you look like a proper cocksucking whore?”
I looked up at Patrick, “Thank you, Master. Thank you for making me look like a proper cocksucking, black whore.”
Patrick smiled and told me to not move and walked into the bedroom of the hotel suite. His cock was still hard. I pressed my thighs together and squirmed and rubbed them together in an attempt to give me pressure on my pussy. It did not work. I was so turned on and badly wanted to get fucked. I could literally feel how wet my pussy was. I whined in frustration of not being able to give my pussy even the slightest pleasure.
Patrick came back into the room and was holding a box of tissues, a damp washcloth, and something else. My eyes focused on the something else. It was a black collar studded with rhinestones and attached to a leash. Apparently, I was not the only one who sneakily packed something extra for the trip. I wonder what else he packed that I did not know about. We had a wide variety of sex toys that we used at times.
Patrick used the warm, damp cloth to wash my face and then pressed a tissue to my nose and told me to blow my nose. Once my face was clean he grinned and placed the collar and leash around my neck. He stood up straight and tugged on the leash.
“Come along, black whore, I am not done with you yet. We have so much more to do,” He told me and led me to the bedroom. I walked behind him on my knees.
The humiliation he put me through and his dominance of me and the anticipation of what he may be doing to me next gave me goosebumps. My sexual arouses seemed to increase tenfold as I was led to the room like the proper black whore slave I would be for him that night.
