It had been two weeks since Bryan's adventure and he hadn't been able to keep his mind off the events of that memorable night. During meetings at work, he would drift off in fantasy to the words that Desire last said. "Know that tonight was child's play compared to what you will experience again" He had flashbacks. Was it possible that he did the unspeakable things his mind's eye recalled? Eating black pussy, sucking big, black cocks . . . real and unreal, begging to get fucked and craving humiliation and abuse. At times, he could pretend that it was all a dream, that it hadn't really happened at all, but the desperation he felt to experience it again, the emptiness he felt inside, the longing to submit to his divine Black queen and do whatever she demanded haunted his every thought and desire. In his mind, it played out like a movie. He could see himself in the action. He could see the way he swallowed Mistress Desire's Strapon like a slut. He could see Master Derrick's huge cock as it invaded the deepest part of his bowels and gave him indescribable and forbidden pleasure. He could see his transformation from mild mannered, unassuming white man to submissive white bitchboi slut, with an insatiable need to be used and humiliated by Blacks. His mediocre life almost had reason while he patiently waited for the next email or instant message from Mistress Desire to let him know where his next adventure into dark passion would take him.
One side effect the experience had on him was a boost to his libido. His previously boring and dull sex life with his wife had been resurrected. His love making become nothing less than inspired and she was never more satisfied in their entire eight-year marriage. His mind would fill of images from that night. His erection would become like steel and he would practically fight to keep from blurting out that he was submissive to Blacks to the blonde mother-of-two that lay beneath him. He was inspired by the intense desire to shock his card carrying, Junior League, PTA white bread wife with the revelation that he had eaten the hairy, black cunt of a sexy, Ebony mistress and he loved every second of it. He would pound away at his wife, making her moan for the first time in years, thinking of the look of horror she would have on her face knowing that he had begged like a dirty whore to get fucked savagely by a black stud. He would imagine that Desire would be whispering in his ear that his cock was pathetic and could never satisfy a woman the way Derrick's massive ebony weapon had satisfied his slutty pussy as he humped up and down on the unsuspecting woman white women that had ceased arousing him years ago. Fantasizing about hearing Desire's melodic voice in his mind, feeling her sensuous touch, and inspired by the beauty of her smooth chocolate skin, Bryan could resign himself to the life he was sentenced to live and make due with the cards he had been dealt.
Those fantasies came to a crashing halt the second he walked through the door one day after work. The envelope sat plainly on the kitchen table when he arrived home. It was so ornate, so elaborate, it was difficult to miss. He initially assumed it was for his wife but was compelled to inspect it. The hand calligraphy clearly spelled out his name and the expensive bronze envelope with sealing wax looked like it could have been an exclusive invitation to Prince William's coronation or something. Bryan held the envelope in his hand and panicked. He knew the origin of the envelope even without a return address. It wasn't postmarked so he had to assume it had been hand delivered. His wife surely put it there so there was no way he could conceal it from her. Perspiration formed under his arms and he began to hyperventilate. He could hear his wife moving about upstairs and he knew from routine that she would be done momentarily to greet him.
"Honey, I'll be back, I forgot my briefcase at the gym . . . I'll be . . . be right back," he yelled up the staircase as he clutched the envelope tightly.
"Wait, tell me what's in the envelope before you . . . leave," the last word barely audible over the slam of the carport door. He sat in his car motionless for a second. Maybe he would just drive away and never come back. No, he needed to get revenge on that bitch for trying to destroy his life. She would pay for this and pay dearly. He backed out of the driveway not sure if he would even have the nerve to return home. He had nothing but the clothes on his back.
Why had he been so thoughtless, so stupid? He jeopardized his marriage for a night of lust. At the time, it seemed so imperative to him to fulfill his fantasy. The thoughts of his submission to Black women had been growing for years. Everything about Black women seemed to reek of sensuality. He had long since stopped looking at porn sites with white women. Actually, his fascination began when he stroked his cock looking at videos of white women getting fucked by huge black cocks, usually in the ass, at the numerous black on blonde sites. At first, he just wanted to see if the myth was true. Assured that it was, he became mesmerized with black sexuality. Somehow, some way, he would get confused. Sometimes, he would imagine that the white whore on the screen was his wife. Scared by that thought, he somehow began to imagine himself as the white slut. He would see those white women on the screen, screaming and moaning and begging for more black cock as they were being gangbanged and he would wonder what it felt like to be the object of such intense sexual pleasure. His mind couldn't handle the confusion he experienced so he went searching the World Wide Web for images of Black women. He found true love.
Black women were his obsession. Their skin, their asses, their pure, unbridled passion seemed to be the epitome of sexuality. At first, any Ebony site would do but he quickly learned that most adult sites with Black women were low quality and showed Black women in the worse possible way. He was only interested in sites that portrayed Black women as the goddesses he knew them to be. AfroerotiK was his absolute favorite; he could look on with awe and inspiration at the gorgeous images of Black sexuality. He then began using various chat rooms and online communities to find Black women with whom he could converse. He was interested in Black women that were at least of his educational level and not just trying to get paid for fucking. He was willing to pay, he felt it was his obligation to lavish a Black woman with gifts but wanted to do it as a tribute, not as an exchange of goods and services. Bottom line, he didn't want a hooker, he wanted a mistress.
That's how he found Mistress Desire. She was a member of a yahoo group called love_ebony_women. He sent her an instant message and she returned his message with pleasant conversation. Not only was she his intellectual equal, she was his superior. She was a biologist specializing in stem cell research and most of her job description went over his head. For weeks they had developed a rapport and she had initiated him into a world of dominance and submission from which he could not return. She was masterful in her control of him and he found himself doing things he hadn't ever contemplated before. She never raised her voice; she never made outrageous and unreasonable demands on him. She would get inside his head, anticipate his every thought and desire, and push him to maniacal heights of arousal. He craved her humiliation most of all. He would get a perverse thrill knowing that she looked down on him with disgust and contempt.
His cell phone rang and it jolted him out of his memories. The caller ID said it was his wife and he let the call go to voicemail. He glanced at the envelope sitting on the front seat. It looked like it had an aura of its own. "What the hell am I so afraid of? What if it's not even from her? This is crazy. I'm not afraid of her. I'm not going to let her control my life. Whatever is in there I can handle it," he thought.
He drove out of conditioning to his job. It was still relatively early in the evening so a few people were still lingering about, finishing up projects and waiting for the evening traffic to dissipate before they made their journey to the outer burbs. He moved through the office in a fog, the envelope held firmly in his grasp. He closed the door to his office and loosened his tie. He felt lightheaded. He broke the seal of the envelope and the gilt tissue paper floated gracefully to the floor. He unfolded the envelope to find a hand written note.
"Bryan, I do so hope you have a wonderful evening when we met. I warned you that if you wanted to play again, the stakes would be higher. What say you, Bryan? Interested in seeing how far you will be willing to go to get your pathetic little prick off again Bryan?"
Bryan blinked hard. With all that was at stake, with all that he stood to lose, he found himself getting erect. He could hear the sweet timber of her voice and he knew all to well that she knew how to push his buttons.
