Redneck Royalty

Warning: The following contains racist language which some may find offensive. Do not read if this is likely to bother you. The story IS true however and took place between mutually consenting adults

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She was online.

Something inside me stopped. Finally here was a chance. A chance to speak to her in spite of the time difference and all the responsibilities that took up my day.

My heart pounded as I waited for her to answer. 'Keep it together keep it together' I kept telling myself. It's like you're on the auction block and this is your chance. Your chance to be owned by her.

"This is Mistress Sherylee".

Her fine Southern accent was even better than I imagined it to be. Her voice as it hit those vowels in 'Mistress Sherylee' punctured any resistance just as effectively as her 7 inch platform heels (pictures of which had already hooked me) would have.

Me shaking

"Hello Mistress. I'm here to worship you as a Superior White Woman."

There I've said it. She is superior. She is white.

"As you should be. I don't know what race you are but you certainly should worship me."

"I'm a gook, Mistress."

There. Said that now too.

"Oh, a tiny dicked little gook?"

"Actually I'm half gook Mistress. I'm a mutt. A half caste."

The biggest, most difficult statement of my life journey so far. I am inferior. I am inferior because of what I am. I am inferior because I'm me.

Her laugh is wicked, cruel, and irresistible.

"Oh, a mutt? A gooky, chinky mutt?"

"Yes, Mistress. I feel...I must...I need to serve you."

"Yes, you DO gook."

The way her redneck tones enunciate the vowels in 'Yes' and 'gook' has my breath failing, my heart pounding, and my captivated yellow cock pulsing.

"I...I feel I have to be owned by you."

"Yes. I own you. You are my property."

"Yes, Mistress Sherylee. Your property."

"You're just a chattel. A beast of burden."

"Yes," I whimper, lost in overwhelming excitement.

"You live to work for Mistress Sherylee. You live to benefit Mistress Sherylee. You consecrate your life to the service of Mistress Sherylee; your Holy White Queen"

Her Southern accent and redneck tones have a strange hypnotic effect on me. I would do anything for Mistress Sherylee.

Beguilingly she whispers;

"Don't fight it. Accept your place in life. Pinned down under my heels."

I feel myself go ever deeper under her spell.

"Yes, Mistress Sherylee. Pinned under your heels. Lucky to even lick the dirt of your heels."

"Oh yes, BOY." (The way she says 'boy' has me writhing in agony on the floor. The way her redneck voice slaps the vowels leaves me helpless).

"You are owned by your Superior White Queen. You're just a stupid gook mutt and you are the property of Mistress Sherylee."

The rhyming tone of 'property' with 'Sherylee' is too much to withstand.

"Yes, Mistress Sherylee. I am a stupid half caste gook mutt and I can only amount to anything if I am owned by, and serve, a Superior White Woman like you."

"Well, I couldn't have put it better myself." She laughs.

Her voice has a fine regal tone. She is RedNeck Royalty

Exhausted, mentally and emotionally I beg for dismissal.

"Yes, BOY (the way She says 'Boy' reverberates in my head almost 24 hours later).

"But you will come back. You will come back again and again and again to serve your Holy White Queen."