I was devastated by the sudden presence of the young black stud at our front door. After I finished relieving myself, I walked out of the bathroom with the front of pants partially wet. I looked over to my wife, Julie, who was still passed out cold on the bed.
Numerous black ink spade stamps were strategically placed all over her body and face, and they were a blatant show of disrespect for me by the young black. It was a humiliating and demoralizing reality and I feared hearing what her explanation might be when she finally woke up.
As I walked back into the kitchen still holding Julie's cell phone in my hands I looked down to it's screen. Her cell had been returned by Tra'mon and she had "left it in his car" by his own comments. The worst thoughts crossed my mind as I examined Julie's cell phone closer.
The cell phone screen was turned to the many text messages I had sent Julie the night before as I groveled and pleaded for her to come home. In these texts, I also complained about her being at "The Black Jacques Club" and getting those black inked spade stamps. Initially, I wondered if the young black stud had actually seen Julie's phone last night. I reasoned that "he had to" see it, and perhaps this was the reason he had all those degrading ink stamps placed on her.
What he had seemingly done was a complete and total "slap in the face" to me, and I was far too much of a wimp to stand up to the black man. His obvious show of black supremacy was insulting and degrading to me, just as I was sure that it would be to any white weakling wimp husband.
Still demoralized, I walked back over to the couch and layed down. It was hard to absorb what had just happened, and what I had just observed. Once again, I fell asleep feeling completely defeated. The young black stud was so cocky, arrogant and mean to me. It couldn't be more obvious that he was rubbing my face in the control he had over my wife, Julie.
I had only been asleep for 2 hours. My brief dream of when things were so good between Julie and I seemed to be no more than a distant memory now. When I woke up and looked over to my passed out wife on the bed, the realization of the nightmare I was living slapped me back into my degrading reality. I stood up and walked over to the kitchen to make coffee for myself when I haphazardly glanced out through the window overlooking the pool area.
Tra'mon was out there sitting by the pool with one of his white women "friends" once again. As I looked longer I was astounded to see this beautiful white woman on her knees clipping the young black stud's toenails. My eyes widened in awe as I realized that she was actually giving this black man a full pedicure by the pool.
"Geez!" I said to myself, humiliated for her.
The young stud sat there in a microscopic flimsy teal green bikini ignoring the beautiful blonde woman as she diligently pampered his feet in the most sevile manner. She clipped and filed and buffed his nails like he was at one of those asian nail salons. Humbly, I watched as my coffee finished brewing and filled my cup. It was truly degrading to know that this young black stud had so many white women serving at his feet, in many cases literally.
It was curious to me that all these white women, and all the white wives from our condo building, could not see his brashness and arrogance the same way us white men did.
"Can't they see how horrible he is?" I asked myself.
They had to see how he used all these beautiful white women "friends" of his. They had to know. They had to see how obvious it was that he had fucked them into submission, treated them as subservient slaves, and degraded them with such blatant disregard for their self esteem. By now, they had to know that he had fathered 7 children with 7 different white women without a care in the world. They had to know this. The white wives had to see how intimidated all us husbands were, too.
"How could they not see this?" I asked myself, again and again.
To them, they continued to see only his pure and overwhelming masculinity, his massive black cock, and his aura of dominance over us weaker white men. It hit me that they were, in their own minds, seeing a "real" man. A black man. And, this seemed to be the cause of them "fawning" all over him like school girls, and obediently listening to words and commands.
It was clear that all us white men feel helpless, humiliated and embarrassed by how a black man takes complete charge over white women. It is defeating for most, if not all of us. Now, I was seeing this on a more personalized level. This thought, alone, caused my already small package to shrivel up to the size of raisins.
Another hour had passed when I heard Julie finally waking up in the other room. Eagerly, I rushed over to her to give her a piece of my mind about her young black boss' "marring" of her body. At least, this is how I envisioned our discussion would go.
But, that would not happen.
