I grab Carl-Henry's cock and balls and squeeze them as hard as I can, until he cries out in pain. I squeeze them until he begs for mercy, and then I release him...not all the way, just a little bit. A whimper slips out of his throat, and he looks up at me with a defeated look in his face. Underneath us, the bed shakes as we unleash our passion. You're my bitch now, I whisper into his ear as I lean over, my voluminous tits smacking his face. Yes Mistress Rishita, Carl-Henry says meekly. Good bitch, I laugh. I stroke my strap-on dildo lovingly, and Carl-Henry's frightened yet eager eyes follow my every move. I am Rishita Bhindranwale, budding dominatrix, international student from India and all-around diva.
This is going up your ass now, I told Carl-Henry firmly. Obediently he nods. Smiling wickedly, I press my dildo against his hole, and push it inside. Carl-Henry closes his eyes and sighs as I begin sodomizing him. Thank you Mistress Rishita, he whispers happily. You're welcome babe, I smile, licking my lips. I am so grateful for the gift of his surrender. I like to dominate strong men and they don't get any stronger than Carl-Henry. He's six-foot-four, dark-skinned and muscular. A proud descendant of Haitian immigrants who've been living in Quebec for almost a century. This beautiful black man is my submissive, my lover and my soul mate. And now, I'm going to make him my little bitch.
For a brief moment, my eyes wander from Carl-Henry. I look at our reflections in the bedroom mirror, and I can't help but smile. The reflected image is almost comical. A tall, burly and muscular black man lying on his back, arms and legs bound by steel restraints, while a short, plump Indian woman straddles him. I so don't look like the dominatrix type. Yet I am very dominant, in and out of the bedroom. I push the dildo deep into Carl-Henry's ass, taking my sweet time as I invade his ass. Like what I'm doing to your ass? I ask, and Carl-Henry opens his eyes. Yes, he replies, through gritted teeth. You forgot to say mistress, I chastise him, grabbing one of his nipples and squeezing it.
Carl-Henry winces, and I smirk triumphantly. I know how sensitive those nipples of his are. He's fit and muscular, with a strong chest, washboard stomach and abs that are simply to die for. Seriously, if he wanted to, he could give guys like The Rock and John Cena a run for their money. My chocolate demigod looks so wonderfully vulnerable, and I love seeing him this way. For I'm the only one he shares this side of himself with. Carl-Henry is every bit the alpha male wherever he goes. He's one of the top students in the civil engineering program at the University of Calgary, a fact which astounds a lot of people. Black men are plenty smart, and the world is only starting to discover that, in the Age of Obama. I've known my sweet Carl-Henry had great potential the moment I laid eyes on him, two years ago during freshman orientation day at school. I moved to Calgary, Alberta, from my hometown of Aligarh, northern India, to study architecture. I'm glad I opted to study abroad because otherwise, Carl-Henry and I never would have met.
I lean forward, and press my tits against Carl-Henry's face, smothering him in the most pleasurable way possible. Carl-Henry's eager mouth find my tits, and he sucks on my nipples, causing me to shudder all over. Hmm, I moan softly, urging him to continue. While Carl-Henry sucks on my tits, I grab his hard dick, and stroke it. Carl-Henry's manhood is a lovely organ, seven and a half inches, quite thick, and uncircumcised. He's also got the biggest, hairiest balls I've ever seen. I grasp them with both hands, and massage them gently.