Black Man One Ch 15

The grand opening of Tra'mon's fitness center came only one week later. This day would be the only time that any of the 13 white husbands from the condo community would be invited, and it was a day that I shall never forget.

The grand opening was held on a Saturday at 11 o'clock in the morning. It came the Saturday after the stud's grotesque and beligerent display of the black spade symboled ink stamping of my wife at the night club they frequented.

Everyone was amazed by the elaborate and impeccable detail of the black man's new fitness center, which was designed almost exclusively for women. The vastness of this club was impressive.

The young stud chose a newly constructed warehouse building just south of the city, and it measured an ominous 80,000 square feet. Darkened, gold one-way mirrored windows highlighted the entire front entrance.

When I drove up, I was immediately faced with the large sign on the front of the building. The name of the fitness center "Roar" was front and center in black letters, which were bordered by a thin white trim. A large, fierce looking black panther head was springing out from the letter "O" of the center's name, Roar. The background to the sign was a deep and robust purple color. The front doors were all glass and chrome with a deeper gold one-way mirrored reflection. The sign "Members Only" labeled each one of these doors.

I had envisioned a smaller and less extravaggant building, or something that would be more basic. But, as I got out of my car and began walking to the front doors I realized that no other people were out front. There had to be over 50 cars in the lot, and I looked at my watch to see that it was still 10 minutes before 11 that morning. I had thought that I would be one of the first ones there, but it appeared that I was the last ones to arrive.

As I entered, I was greeted by my beautiful and trim blonde wife. She looked stunning in her black thonged leotard with deep white opaque tights underneath. The black arm band with the new workout center's name boldly displayed for all to see. She handed me a glass of champagne as I looked around in awe at the exquisitely-decorated front lobby of this fitness center.

"Hi, honey. Why so late?" Julie said as she greeted me.

"Well, uh y-you said 11, right?" I replied.

"No." she said, correcting me.

"I told you it was at 10!" Julie snapped.

I was almost sure my wife had told me the grand opening was at 11 o'clock and not an hour earlier as she now claimed. But, I was far too nervous to argue with her as I stood there beginning to scan the large lobby. Suddenly, Tra'mon called out to Julie from about 25 feet away.

"Julie, I need you over here girl!" the black stud called out, demandingly.

Julie's bright blue eyes sprung to attention as she turned towards the black stud.

"Yes, Sir. I'm coming, Trey." she answered as she turned back to me.

"Honey, I gotta go. My boss needs me. Take a walk around. It's an open tour." she said.

I watched as my blonde wife turned and literally scurried towards the young black man with a glass of champagne in her hands. Her long, bright blonde hair was prepared as if she was going out to an upscale restaurant. It billowed out nicely, almost as if she were on some sort of modeling assignment. Here makeup was detailed in an impressive manner.

Meekly, I stood still and began looking around the large lobby of this new fitness center. The other 12 white husbands of our condo community were all huddled together in the furthest corner off to my right. They were all investors, like me, and each was holding their own glass of champagne. Yet, they did not seem very festive at all.

Like so many of us white men in the presence of a black stud, their heads were hung in what seemed like a shameful defeat. Quietly, they stood around in the corner sulking. None of them seemed to be talking to one another, and I found this rather curious and strange.

As I scanned the large crowd and the vastness of this carpeted lobby, I began to notice the overall complexion of this crowd. There had to be at least 50 very polished-looking white women in their late 20's to early 40's, and they were all wearing expensive fitness wear. Most of them were dressed in leotards, tights and gym shoes. Some were in spandex leggings and cropped spandex tops. Their outfits were a vast array of different colors and they all were milling around while holding a glass of champagne themselves.

Then, I noticed the other 12 white wives from our condo community. Like Julie, they were dressed in the black thonged leotard over opaque white tights with the black arm band of the workout club's name. It designated their role as assistants within the black man's fitness center.

I realized there weren't any black females in the entire crowd of 50-60 people, nor were there any other white men with the exception of us white husbands. But, there were five other black men in their mid 20's standing around. There were 5 others besides Tra'mon, and they were all dressed in revealing black spandex short-shorts and an armless black tee shirt. The center's name "Roar" was printed in white lettering across their muscular chests and each of them was just as dark-skinned as the Tra'mon.

It was devastating to see these rippled black studs in those obnoxiously revealing short-shorts. It appeared as if the front pouches of their stretchy spandex shorts were custom made with a flimsier material. Rudely, their disgustingly massive cocks seemed to "jut" outwards in the most revealing way possible.

For me and all the other wwhite men in attendance, it was more than embarrassing to see the arrogant manner in which they seemed to be displaying themselves. I had no idea who these other black guys were.

Rather than approach the other white husbands sulking in the corner, I decided to take a longer look around the place. Despite feeling uneasy about being a white man in this establishment I waas still very curious.

The front lobby had a small 6 seat juice bar set off to the left of the large front counter area. Another small area to the right of it seemed like a richly-detailed health food bar with a few small tables. A lounging area was just off to the side of it.

I walked towards the front counter slowly as the crowd of pretty white women mingled around in the large lobby. I began to notice the entire lobby was decorated with artwork that was obviously of african persuasion. Paintings, carved statues and colors of the African flag accented this refined area.

When I turned off to my left, there was a large wall with photographs and a bulletin board. A few dozen added pieces of artwork in black frames of black men's carved bodies in black and white photography surrounded the line of photos marked as "staff." The close up carved body parts of black men were marked as "body landscapes" and it was curious to see this in a woman's fitness center.

The staff photographs were the faces of Tra'mon as the owner and the other 5 black men designated as instructors. They all looked like rougher guys who seemed quite "thug" and dangerous in appearance. Beneath the black men's pictures were the photographs of the 13 white women from our condo building, and they were designated as assistants.

The feeling of defeat overwhelmed me as I stared at my wife Julie's picture smiling. Her beautiful face framed in that 8 by 11 inch colored photograph with her striking blonde hair apparent for all to see.

I walked over to my right along this long wall towards the mounted black velvet bulletin board, which was a locked glass and metal box. The fitness center hours were displayed along with upcoming events, like "Upcoming After Hour Parties." The address and phone number of "The Black Jacques Club" was detailed with several dates below it. When I looked closer I realized that the number designated to make a reservation to this club was actually Julie's cell phone number.

"Geezuz." I gasped to myself.

In the lower right hand corner of this velvet bulletin board encased in glass was the "new members" area with small, pocket sized photographs of their faces. There were already more than 50 of these little pictures, and every single last one of them was a white women.

Humbly, I gazed at the numerous pictures of the blondes, brunettes and redheads. They were all quite attractive and a few of them even looked curiously familiar. It was then that I realized that some of them were photos of the white women I had seen walking from the black stud's condo apartment. They were the very same pretty white women who had been so blatantly used and fucked by this aggressive black stud and seemed so blatantly subservient to him.

I swallowed the remainder of my champagne as I timidly began walking down the halls of this elaborate workout center. The first office was the largest and marked with Tra'mon's name on the door in a gold plaque. It was an exquisitely detailed office with a large wooden desk. Beneath his name was my wife's name on a smaller gold plaque, Julie, with her title of "Trey's Assistant" boldly marked underneath.

It truly appeared as if they shared this office.

Further down the first hallway were a series of several workout rooms, some with machines and others without. The ones without were marked as the aerobics rooms. There was also a sauna steam room and a locker room that read "locker room one."

As I walked around the corner of this first hallway I noticed a large gym with weights and machines that seemed to be more designed for men to work out in. Next to this area, a small men's locker room was exquisitely detailed. Next to that room was an indoor pool room with a large in ground pool that had three large jacuzzi tubs set of to it's side.

When I turned down the next hallway, I noticed several more workout rooms and another 2 larger female locker rooms. Each of these locker rooms seemed to be able to fit 30 women. That is when I heard the sound of children playing and some crying noises. Slowly, I turned and began walking down this next hallway towards the sounds.

This room was the largest of the rooms and had full glass windows from the ceiling to the floor. The sign on the door simply read "daycare center."

It was obviously a daycare center for women with children who would be at the fitness center to workout. Initially, one might think this was a good business decision and a great idea. However, I did not feel this way when I began to look inside.

There had to be at least 30 black children running around and playing. But, they were not just black children. They were so noticeably "mixed" or "biracial" children, yet still far more "black" than any other race. There were also 4 of the prettiest white women monitoring and attending to these children. The children were all between the ages of 1 and 5, and the prettiest white girls were obviously there as the child care providers or baby sitters. I wasn't sure which.

I looked in awe at the number of biracial children in this daycare center room. It was like a statement was being made and a slap in the face to all of us white men. I found my shoulders beginning to slump further in defeat and humiliation.

As I continued the self tour, I was astounded by the rich detail and elaborate designs. It felt like I was in a high class and expensive place. I knew that I had invested a great deal of money into the black stud's new fitness center, and I could see where it was all being spent. There were even massage rooms and an outdoor cafe with a pool in the back of the building.

"Geezuz Krist!" I thought.

"I've never seen a fitness center like this." I gasped.

When I returned to the crowded lobby area it was demoralizingly obvious to see that all our white wives were hovering around the young black studs in their skimpy fitness wear. I simply joined the other white husbands in silence as I stood there with my eyes to the floor feeling humiliated.

The other white husbands simply glanced at me and then put their eyes to the floor, once again. It was as if they knew how defeated I felt seeing the new women's fitness center, and how the young black stud had such control over my beautiful blonde wife.

The grand opening was over within an hour of my arrival, and Julie and the other wives informed us white husbands of the celebration party they were about to attend.

They told us the party was for the staff members only, and all 13 of us white husbands went home on our own sulking. We never did speak to each other about the events that led up to the grand opening of Tra'mon's workout center. Nor, did we feel like talking about anything else at all.

Things continued along these lines for the next 3 weeks.

My pretty blonde wife, Julie, had all but given up on her goal to own her own fitness center business. She would never discuss it again. Julie was 100 percent committed and dedicated to the black stud's women's workout center, which had now been officially opened for three weeks.

Julie had been consumed with the start up of Tra'mon's fitness center, and now she was even more consumed when the business opened. She acted more like the black stud's personal secretary than anything else. It seemed like she jumped at his slightest command, running personal errands and handling all the accounting for his fitness club. She even babysat his children several times.

However, even with the opening of his fitness club the black stud continued his personal morning workouts in the condo building's small gym. Each and every morning, I was relegated into being the young black man's workout partner, or assistant.

Basically, I continued holding the heavy bag for him while he pounded away on it. Then, I had to finish wiping the floor of the black stud's sweat and spit. I hated being there and I was sure that he knew this, but I had become even more intimidated by him at this point.

I just kept quiet and did as I was told to do. It felt more like I was the young black man's "towel boy" than his workout partner, or anything else. And, he hardly would speak to me at all during these 3 weeks. It was simply a quick 30 minute workout before he would toss his gloves to the floor and walk away in silence.

Another thing happened during these first three weeks.

Julie would be gone all day and night. Half of these nights she would not arrive home until close to midnight, and the other half of these days she wasn't getting home until 3 or 4 in the morning. A few of these nights were even later than that.

And, yes. Every other night Julie would arrive home with between 2 and 5 black spade symbols in the darkest ink stamped on her hands, face or arms. When the spade ink stamps were on her face she continued to explain that Tra'mon was simply "fooling" around or "playing" around.

She never viewed this blatantly rude gesture in any other way. Humbly, I stopped complaining about them as it only served to upset her more than I would have imagined.

"Gosh. Why is my wife always defending this black man's actions?" I often thought.

Every single day, Julie would toss her white tights into the bathroom trash can and I would look at them in humiliation. The knees of them were always extremely dirty, especially on those nights she was out late. Some days the white tights would have holes in the knees and she seemed to be going through a new pair of white tights every day.

I continued to struggle with this.

I couldn't understand why and I didn't want to ask her about them. I didn't want to think the worst. But, I was unable to. The young, black stud was apparently continuing to rub my face in it, so to speak. He seemed to be rubbing my face in the absolute and uncontested control he so obviously had over my beautiful blonde wife.

Her absence from me continued to grow and grow. Julie even began to take massage classes, which she explained was from the encouragement of her young black stud boss. And, she and the other white wives were continuing to be babysitters for the black man's children. There wasn't more than a day or two that went by that one of Tra'mon's children was being watched at the condo building by one of our white wives.

The pool area of our condo building was now more like his territory. All 13 of us white husbands would purposely stay away from this area while our wives would hang around together, or when the young black stud was around.

Things had changed so fast in such a short period of time.

The overwhelming feeling I had of losing my pretty blonde wife continued to consume me. She was always disinterested in sex, and the handful of times when I tried to establish a sexual encounter with her was met with failure. I could hardly get an erection anymore and the few times I was able to lasted no more than a pathetic few minutes. The black stud was making me feel like "less a man" all the time.

Julie would usually end my futile attempts to have intercourse with her as I deperately tried to please her.

"Let's try again another time, honey." Julie would say.

"Besides, I'm pretty tired anyway." she often said.

"O-Okay, honey. I-I'm sorry." I would reply, ashamed by my lack of manhood.

Yes, the three weeks after the grand opening of Tra'mon's fitness center was a difficult time for me. The insecurity I felt was deepening with each passiing day. In desperation, I decided to ask the company I was with for a transfer to another city, and to another state.

I knew that I wanted to be as far away from the young black stud as I could be, and this rather drastic move was one out of total desperation.

Nervously, I decided to tell Julie of my desire to transfer as I waited for an answer from my corporate office. I knew she would be upset in many ways. But, never in a million years did I expect the animated response I would get from my beautiful blonde wife.

Julie yelled at me for quitting so soon. She was outraged that I had brought her all the way to Arizona to start a new life and was now, in her own words, "wimping out." She couldn't believe that I wanted to leave already, especially when she had just started what she termed a "new job" and a "new career." My beautiful, young blonde wife actually "scolded" me for even considering such a ridiculous move at this time.

"What kind of man does that?" she yelled.

I could not answer my white wife. I could not answer her honestly. Deep down, I knew the reason was that I was afraid of the young black stud. He had already beaten me up several times, emasculated me in the presence of my blonde wife, and continued to "bully" and intimidate me to no end.

I also knew that if I would have answered Julie honestly at that time, I would have told her that the type of man who does something like this would be nothing more than a timid "coward."

As I stood there watching my enraged wife gathering her things and putting them in a large duffle bag, I began to think that I had made a mistake. I thought that maybe my request was too drastic at this time.

"H-Honey? What are you doing? Wh-where are you going?" I asked, in a panic.

Julie grabbed a few more of here things and began walking out the door in frustration.

"I'm going out. Maybe we just need a few days apart. I'm not happy, Richard!" she yelled, slamming the door shut as she left our condo apartment.

Suddenly, I felt so alone and ridiculous.

My beautiful white wife was adament about staying in Arizona and I just knew that my timing couldn't have been be worse. My desire to leave the state and leave my position with the company was all due to this one black man who intimidated me. Somehow, it felt like Julie knew this too.

That night I must have texted and tried calling Julie a dozen times. She only answered one of the text messages by saying she was okay and that she still needed some time to think things over.