Man Of The House 1

The name is Katherine Henderson. Former CEO of Henderson Fashions, a billion-dollar corporation. It's one of the most powerful companies in the world. And I was recently nominated to run it. Then, I lost control of the company after my personal life spiraled out of control. Sometimes, I miss my old life. Running the business world could be fun. The perks of being a chief executive officer were many. I got paid three million dollars a year, which wasn't bad at all. I got to do many fun and fascinating things, like taking the corporate jet and fly around the world. Yeah, I can pretty much do whatever I want. Who gave me the job? Well, nobody, really. I went to Harvard and got an MBA. Then, I started working there. Ten years later, I run the place. Isn't life grand?

Many people think that if you're a woman who has money and power, then you become something altogether different from what you are. That's not true. I haven't changed a bit. I'm still me. I've still got the same habits. Right now, I'm on my hands and knees. A big, beautiful woman with a pretty face, large breasts, thick body and big plump ass. Gleefully ramming his twelve-inch black cock into my asshole is Devon Jones, a captain with the local state police department. He's my lover, and my master. I worship the ground he walks on. The first time I met Devon, I knew he was something special. For starters, women were always flocking to this six-foot-six, 250-pound black man with the body of a college football star and the face of a male model. He's the most perfect man I've ever met. I fell for him. I became his own personal bitch.

Devon Jones is the most virile and strong man I've ever met. Wherever he goes, he runs the show, or else. He has a bachelors degree in criminal justice from the Georgia Institute of Technology. He is the youngest man ever to become a police captain in the country's history. A talented cop who comes from a long line of policemen. He also used to play college football and passed up on the National Football League to become a policeman in his hometown. He's the self-published author of several best-selling books chronicling the adventures of a sexy macho black detective and the women who love him. He's an icon in the city and the black community. Women worship him and men admire him. He had his pick of women. White women, black women, Latin women and Middle-Eastern women. They were all eager to please this sexy chocolate stud. Instead, he picked me. And let me know on no uncertain terms that he would run the show. That's the kind of man he is.

Now, you might wonder why would a rich and powerful female executive fall under the domination of a macho man, especially in this post-feminist age? Well, I've never met a man like him before. He's so different from other men. It's almost like he's a member of another species of man. He's smarter, stronger and more ruthless than other men. He's a strong man in the riskiest and manliest of professions, police work. He's a real man in a world of wimps. I just had to have him. I went after him with everything I've got. And he made me his. Isn't that something? Devon told me that I had to be at his place, every night, ready to satisfy him like a woman should be ready to satisfy her man. Yes, I did obey!

Every night, I would cancel important business meetings to go meet Devon. The man who gave me what I didn't even know I craved. I was tired of running the world. I longed for someone strong, to take me in hand and teach me a lesson. I wanted someone to take me off my high horse. And fate sent me Devon. The strongest, smartest, most exotically ruthless and masculine man who has ever lived. The handsome man with the muscular body and the twelve-inch black cock. I would kneel before him and worship at his altar. When he wanted me to, I would crawl about naked on all fours, shaking my ass. I would roll over when he asked me. And I would bark when he ordered me to. There was absolutely nothing I wouldn't do for him.

The things we did together were many. Sometimes, my master would flog me with his long and thick leathery whip until my skin turned red. That whip of his would strike me everywhere. My face, my chest, my hips and my ass. I would scream, cry, and indeed beg him for more. He would also drip hot candle wax all over my body, and my face as well. I loved his exquisite and imaginative punishments. Other times, he would tie me up and gag me, then he would pry my plump ass cheeks wide open and shove the full length of his cock into my asshole, sans lube. That last one hurt like hell, but I learned to enjoy it. I learned to love having his twelve-inch black cock deep inside my tight asshole, probing me where the sun didn't shine. He would pump his cock mercilessly into my asshole, slamming into me like anal sex was going out of style. I squealed as he practically tore my ass apart, until he finally came, sending his hot cum up my ass like a blast out of a cannon. And then, he would stand victoriously over me and make me suck his cock, which had just been up my asshole. And I loved him for it. I worshiped him. He was my god. We had a lot of wicked fun together. Sometimes, too much fun. My work habits began to change. I was no longer prioritizing. I guess what happened to a lot of powerful men was now happening to me, the prototypical powerful American woman. Sex was causing my work habits to change, and my performance to suffer. I adapted as best I could. But to no avail. It's not that my work got harder, or that I lost my analytical abilities. Nope. It's just that I can do all the things that I used to do, but my spirit's not into them anymore. I once valued all those perks that corporate leadership brought. Not anymore. My existence seemed boring and stale, pointless. Make more money, get a new car and travel some more. All that got boring. There had to be more to life than this. Something was missing. Devon provided what was missing. And I devoted myself to him mind, body and soul.

When the board of directors summoned me, I knew the jig was up. the company stock had gone down over the last quarter. We had actually lost money. And naturally as leader, I was to blame. They decided to fire me. I didn't feel saddened, or embarrassed. I didn't cry. I didn't curse. I didn't get angry. I didn't beg and plead. I simply walked out of there with my head held high. To me, this wasn't a firing. This was a moment of liberation. I was no longer trapped by the oppressive corporate culture. In fact, I felt saddened for those men and women who worked there. Slaves to the corporate machine. They sacrificed their family lives, their friends and relations all for the almighty buck. And they never even got to enjoy it. They led empty lives. They were empty shells. Not me. I had something real in my life. A towering icon of masculine perfection and power. Devon. The man that I loved with all my heart and soul. The man that I worshiped as a god.

Now, I was free to devote myself wholeheartedly to my god. When I came to him, he was accepting. To him, I had never been the female who broke the glass ceiling. Women's magazines celebrated me as a wealthy and powerful person. A role model for future generations of women. That was a lot to live up to. It was a mantle I didn't care to carry. I didn't want to be boxed into that category. People saw me as a corporate leader who was a woman. The pinnacle of success. Right up there with senators, state representatives and other political big shots. They never saw the woman that I was inside. I was just like everyone else. I was a person with needs, desires, insecurities and fears. I needed to be loved. I felt anger. I felt joy. I felt loneliness. I felt despair. I wasn't a superhuman female hero. I wasn't an Amazon. I wasn't out to conquer man's world. I wasn't out to break barriers. I simply wanted to be me. I didn't want to run anything. I only wanted to be happy. Devon made me happy. To me I've always been his woman. Pure and simple. And now that I've lost my millions, my mansions, my private jet and my good name, I'm simply his woman. And that's enough for him.

Which brings me back to what I was talking about. I'm the big woman who's on her hands and knees, with her lover's twelve-inch cock buried in her asshole. And I absolutely love it. Devon rams his cock into my asshole. He grabs both my hands and yanks them backwards, immobilizing me. I am now completely in his power. And I relish it. There's a certain power in it. To completely surrender to someone else. There's no greater act of love and trust than this, except maybe self-sacrifice. I trust Devon to take me wherever he wants, however he wants, and to bring me back safely. And he does. He thrust his cock into my asshole, hard and deep. Into my most forbidden depths. In places which have never seen the light of day. Then, he finally lets out his cum. It invades my ass. A piercing cry escapes my mouth. I am howling like a madwoman. Devon holds me still. Until the intense sensations rocking my body subside.

When he releases me, I am speechless. My eyes tell him everything he needs to know. They communicate to him feelings of thanksgiving and of contentment. He's just fucked me into high heaven before bringing me back down to earth. It's a trip I never could have taken on my own. And I can't thank him enough. Devon smiles, and finally, he kisses me. I kiss him back. All I've ever had to do was let go, and now, thanks to him, I am free. Happy at last.