"Mistress Darkness, I'm going to stalk you until you agree to make me your slave or I die, I simply can't have a supreme Black Goddess like you in the hands of White dudes, Black male submissive types like me need you too," Ralph Bellamy said to me, and I looked at the tall, dark-skinned, nerdy young Black man with the deranged gleam in his eyes and sighed. What is it going to take for me to get rid of this bozo?
"Ralph, you should know that no means no, I'd kick you in the balls but knowing you, and how sick in the head you are, you'd probably like it," I replied, and Ralph grinned and spread his legs wide, exposing his nuts. Oh, yeah, this nutcase would love it if I lost it and totally went nuts on him. How do you punish a man who loves to be punished and humiliated? You deny him, pure and simple. With a guy like Ralph, though, I could sense that this wasn't going to work for long.
What is it with those thirsty brothers? Ever since I declared myself interested only in subs of other races, I've been getting a ton of messages from random brothers on Fetlife expressing their feelings on the matter. What the fuck? I am a professional dominatrix operating in the Capital region of Canada. I cater to a select clientele, one which respects my safety and privacy. That's just the way I get down.
I have been known to tour Toronto, Vancouver, Halifax, Calgary, Montreal, and Quebec City. There aren't a lot of Black female dominant types in lily-White Canada, so gals like me are in demand. All kinds of men pay handsomely to get dominated by me, and it's made me rich. Of course, there's a downside to everything. Somehow, this random brother named Ralph Bellamy not only learned my real name and address, but also began stalking me, simply because he wants me to beat his submissive, obsessive Black ass. What's a gal to do?
"Yes, Mistress Blackness, my life is yours to snuff out," Ralph said, and I watched, amazed, as he knelt before me and kissed my feet. I should mention that I was standing in my driveway, having gone out to get the morning paper. Just another bright Sunday morning in early July, and the City of Barrhaven, Ontario, was in full bloom. Summertime in provincial Ontario is simply glorious. I miss my hometown of metropolitan Accra, Ghana, of course, but I've grown to like it.
"Dammit, Ralph, you're a grown man, aren't you embarrassed by this?" I asked, exasperated, and Ralph looked up at me, an adoring look upon his face. I sighed, wondering how I was going to get rid of this sucker. I called the cops on him once, and he beat it before they got there. Since the cops were rude to me for calling them over nothing, I didn't feel like calling them again. One of the police officers had the nerve to be surprised that a young Black woman like me owns a townhouse in Barrhaven. Weird, eh?
"Ma'am, I live to serve the dominant Black Goddess, I am in awe of you and what you represent, give me a chance and I'll do anything, I'll even mow your lawn," Ralph said, with his tongue hanging out. I paused to consider this. I recently bought this nice townhouse in the Pizzeria Circle area of Barrhaven, within walking distance of the local Walmart, and about five minutes from a nearby Catholic schools, with a gas station and a bunch of shops in the area. I work hard and invest wisely, and now I'm independently wealthy. Part of the reason why is that I know a good deal when I see one...
"Alright, Ralph, I'll give you a chance but if you fuck up, you're done, you hear me?" I said sharply, and Ralph smiled and nodded. I let him come inside to get some water, and then showed him the garage, where my lawnmower awaited. Ralph put himself to good use and not only did he mow the damn lawn, he also clipped my hedges. All in under an hour. I would have had to pay a pretty little penny to those landscape artist guys to do all that, and Ralph just did it for free. I like that a lot. Now, let's see if I can get something else out of him...
"Thank you for letting me mow your law Mistress Darkness," Ralph said, and I smiled, pleased by his words. It was eleven o'clock and I didn't have any appointments that day. I was bored. I'd already done work on the erotic novel I was writing. I'm at one hundred and eighty pages and want to make it to three hundred pages. I've got a publisher lined up and everything. Apparently, there's definitely a market for Black erotica and Black BDSM, and with my knowledge of those realms, I am set to make an even bigger name for myself. How about that?
