The flat looked pretty much the same as the other residents on the street. Aged in the special care all English tenement houses have acquired since the last world war. However I wasn't so much interested in the landscape, or the architecture as I was the young married Goddess who had at last answered the door.
"Mrs. Adams?" I inquired.
"Yes?" Her voice an early morning sultry crescendo in it's own right as she stood in the partially opened doorway in a simple linen robe, the sleep not quite gone from her enchanting blue eyes.
"Kym Adams?" This time I put an official tenor to my own voice, but gave her an appreciative look up and down that instinctively made her clutch her robe to see that it wasn't giving away the farm.
"Can I help you, Yank?" Her own tone of voice taking on a touch of concern now, as I was a complete stranger.
"Quite. I'm here to collect on your husband’s outstanding debt. May I come in?"
"What outstanding debt?" Anger slipping into her voice now along with just the right amount of fear. After all, here I was, an Afro American black man in a suit in an all white residential area in England, inquiring about some stupid unknown bill her husband had run up without telling her about it.
"We can discuss it out here in front of all your neighbors ... or ..." I continued.
"No please ..." Kym backed into the flat, holding the door open for me to get by, "do come in." Then after closing the door behind me. "What's this all about Mr., er ..."
"It's Master actually," I said putting down my briefcase on the edge of her coffee table as I took a seat on her couch, and after pulling out the forged ledgers I handed the copies to her to look over, "these are accounts to date. As you can see there is a gambling debt outstanding of over 10,000 pounds to a certain casino, and ..."
"Ten thousand pounds!" Kym gasped, and suddenly her body was trembling in shock, and holding the vouchers in her right hand sank down into the comfortable chair across from me.
Since she was no longer clutching her robe closed tight around her luscious curvy white flesh, the robe parted in front slightly to accommodate the movements of her sitting down. My left trousers leg suddenly began to get crowded as her blue silk teddy and matching panties were inadvertently flashed at me before she had a chance to readjust the outer robe. The silky smooth flesh of her left leg up to just past her knees was left exposed though as she read through the fake ledgers in total shock.
I watched with amusement as she checked the dates on each ledger, knowing full well that those dates were all on weekends when she was out with her girlfriends cruising the pubs, dressed in tarty cloths her own husband had insisted she wear on those occasions. The very husband, who it seemed now had been going to my casino those same nights and getting them indebt over their ears.
"I don't understand," Kym said at last, defeat already weighing down her slender shoulders, worry etched into her beautiful face, "how could you let my husband incur so high a debt without giving you any real collateral? I mean, other than our car, and the furniture you see around you we have nothing ... and I mean nothing we have is worth even close to what this debt amounts to."
"Well," I began, trying to look sheepish, and guilty both at the same time, "you see, he didn't put up your furniture, or even the car," and I handed her the photo her husband had given me, "he put his wife up as the sole collateral for all of his gambling debts up to ten thousand pounds," the sexy picture of Kym partially exposed, obviously taken by her husband either before, or after one of their love playing episodes, all the proof I really needed of my sincerity in this matter.
"You can't be serious?!" Her shock, and anger such, at this new revelation, that she'd completely forgotten about her robe as she jumped to her feet, and it was now open up the front to reveal those rippling heaving breast's erect nipples poking through the thin material of her silk blue nitey. It was also now obvious that she shaved, or at least trimmed her pubic hair for a bikini fit.
"Of course this is entirely up to you, my dear," I said, then leaned back into the couch cushions visually stripping her with my eyes now, "but the alternative will be extremely painful for your spouse, as well as totally crippling to your credit, not to mention the loss of anything you both have of any value at all sold to the highest bidder to pay off as much of this debt as possible."
"Do you mind if I confirm this with my husband over the phone?" She was at last calling what she thought had to be the greatest bluff of all time.
"By all means, Kym. Please do. I certainly would if I had been put in your situation."
Kym immediately reached for the phone, and started dialing. It took several minutes for her husband to pick it up at his end, and in that time she once again managed to get her robe cocooned around her voluptuous body. The only thing was, with the robe wrapped so tightly around her, every curve of her body became well established, and my eyes taped her in at a wonderful 5'5" tall, around 115 lbs. measuring 39D-24-35 of an eye popping figure. So engrossed was I in studying this married goddess, and her excellent charms that I missed most of the conversation between her and her hubby until just before she slammed the phone down in it's cradle.
"YOU BASTARD, SON OF A BITCH!"
Still fuming, she at last turned to me, "I should make that prick pay for this with his own hide."
"I see," I replied, then began to put everything back in my briefcase in preparation for leaving, "I'll put everything in motion then. Of course your husband will be late getting home from work today. That is if he's able to crawl back ..."
"Hold on," she stopped me putting her right hand on my left, "I said I should make him pay, not that I will .." I could see her mind working overtime frantically trying to cope with this monumental decision. She had only two choices now. Let her husband of five short months get turned into hamburger, and lose all of their possessions, or spread her legs wide, letting me, or more importantly her husband, in essence, turn her into a card carrying whore for a strange black man, or maybe even men for that matter.
"If I ..." Kym stumbled over her thoughts as she tried valiantly to overcome this unyielding situation that she'd been forced into, "if I agree to ... to pay ... pay off my husbands outstanding debt ... I mean ... exactly what ... what are we talking about here?"
And this time she allowed the robe to part, surrendering a much better view of her own free will than I'd had thus far. It was calculated to disarm me, of course, but I had other ideas entirely. I reached into my briefcase once again, and pulled out the contract signed by her husband, and handed it to her.
"This should explain everything," I said, and placed a pen down on her coffee table, "as you can see, on this copy, that's your husband's signature, with his initials on each page stating your responsibilities in this matter, should you agree to paying off his debt with your assets. Take a few minutes to read it over, and then if you agree to the conditions, just sign your own initials next to your husbands, and your full name over top of where his signature is on the last page. Then you can take off the robe after that, and we'll get started."
"I guess that's blunt enough," Kym responded, her face showing her distain as her body trembled for other reasons as she started to read the contract. Her face went through a metamorphosis of disgust, and revulsion, but her body language was giving off completely different signals altogether, the wet spot forming in the inverted triangle of her bikini underwear better than a lie detector in this situation. She gasped, and blushed several times, but never said a word while reading over the bogus contract. Only occasionally looking over the papers at me when she flipped a page to catch me staring lustfully down between her parted thighs, or ogling her heaving chest.
"It states here that you have complete control over my body, inclusive, but not limited to tattooing, or piercing ..." Kym stopped then, looking at me for clarification. Probably to see if there were any verbal loopholes she could use later.
"Yes, that's correct," I replied, "as my slave, I'm sure you can understand my wanting to establish that point on your flesh in my own way so that there'll be no doubt in your husband's or anyone else’s mind who exactly owns your ass ... assets, once you've agreed. Though currently, I haven't decided exactly the best course of action to follow."
"Isn't that painful?"
"Somewhat uncomfortable they tell me, yes. But I understand the pain to be more like bug bites, or bee stings than anything else."
"It also says here that you can loan me out. What does that mean?"
"Don't be coy, Kym," I replied, "you know exactly what it means. You don't seriously think that I would agree to this without there being a way to get some of my money back on the deal, did you?"
"So you intend to pimp me out?"
"Crude, but accurate enough. But only when I wish to, of course."
"If I sign this, I'm becoming your whore then."
"Yes," I replied, "but so much more as well."
"I have no choice?" And when I shook my head in the negative she sighed in resignation. "Give me the damn pen," and after signing, and initialing every page, handed the contract back to me, with one last word, "you might own my ass now, but I'll be damned if you'll make me enjoy it," then, as if suddenly remembering the last part of the contract, "Master."
"The point here Kym, is that '
I
' will. Now get rid of that robe, and do a striptease for me. I want a good look at my property."
Reluctantly, Kym shrugged out of the robe letting it puddle to the floor as I reached over and turned on some tunes. Barry White came on, and I sat back to watch the show. Trembling, Kym reached up across her breasts with her right hand, and slid the strap off her left shoulder, then did the same with her left hand. In effect ending up with her arms crossed in front of her titties holding her nitey in place with the straps dangling on her arms.
It was more than evident to me that Kym was extremely turned on by the growing wet spot in her bikini crotch whether she wanted to be or not. Her face said; "Screw you," but her body language begged; "Fuck me."
She turned her back to me then, and slowly the silk blue nitey floated down around her body to settle on the carpet along side of her robe leaving her only in her panties now. Kym was being coy, but I would have none of it. I reached out, and ripped those panties off of her in one quick movement, leaving her naked from head to toe, and visibly shivering less than two feet from me now.
"Bend over bitch," I ordered her, "and back up a step."
Again she was reluctant, but she did as told moving at a snail's pace. Bent over, standing there naked in front of me holding onto her knees the woman took my breath away with her beauty. I didn't understand how her husband could be so foolish as to just give a piece of ass like this away, and to me at that, but I was definitely going to enjoy this, and I was going to make sure that Kym did as well.
Kym flinched when my black hands came in contact with her firm marbled white buttocks. She went back to trembling, and I could smell her heat as my black face closed in, my thumbs spreading her buttocks to better tongue her weeping pussy from behind. Her knees nearly gave out the moment my tongue sliced into her groove, and I licked my way from her clit to her sweaty ass crack. This time when she shivered I knew it was because she was having a mini orgasm, and I dove tongue first into her hot box.
"Oooooooooommmmmmmmmmm," Kym couldn't help but groan.
"Yeah, I knew you'd like that bitch," I commented, and dove back in.
