Race Play Ch 18

My name is Shamika Brown. I'm a six-foot-tall, square Black woman living in the city of Buffalo, New York. I run a shelter for immigrants and refugees known as the House of Life. I wear glasses, I'm somewhat curvy, with big tits and a big round ass. I also wear glasses. I'm in my forties and still not married because nobody can stand having me around. I'm your prototypical loud and obnoxious Black woman found in just about every major city in the United States of America. The inner city Black chick with the attitude problem. That's me in a nutshell.

I run the House of Life with a tight fist. Lots of immigrants and refugees on their way to Canada come there. Most of them are people of African, Hispanic, Asian and Middle-Eastern descent. Scores of men and women from Africa, Latin America, East Asia and the Middle East. All of them seeking a better life in the Republic of Canada. Apparently, Canada is kinder to its racially diverse immigrant population than the U.S. is. I guess it's because Canada is a Socialist country while America is and always been an Imperialist Nation. I can't stand these immigrants and refugees at the House of Life. I pretend to care about them but really, I like to make them suffer.

A common misconception among North American and European nations is that immigrants from Africa, Latin America, Asia and the Middle East are an undereducated lot. That's really not true. There are men and women with college degrees who find their way through the House of Life. Professors, accountants, scientists, college students and writers. Also, artists, technicians and skilled artisans. Yet like the arrogant bitch that I am, I constantly belittle these people and use my authority to make them feel bad. You might wonder why I do this. There are many reasons why. You see, as a Black woman in America, I'm eternally angry and bitter. I can't stand Black men. It doesn't matter if they're hard-working, God-fearing, college-educated and law-abiding Black men. I can't let myself trust them or care about them. It's part of the training I received as a Black woman in America. I must always manipulate, betray, belittle and ultimately destroy the Black man. While women of other races support their men, it's my duty to destroy mine. I was conditioned to do this. It's my reason for living.

The men I can't stand the most are the Haitians. Haitian men are different from African-American men. Most African-American men grew up in female-dominated households with no husbands or fathers present. They aren't focused on anything academic and instead almost inevitably end up becoming criminals and/or siring multiple offspring upon multiple women. Offspring they can't take care of. Haitian men are different. While America's Black men and Black women are descended from slaves who were GIVEN their freedom by White men and White women, Haitians are an altogether different breed. The Black men and Black women of Haiti uprooted the racist colonial system led by the French and brought about the end of slavery on the island of Saint Domingue. Thus, Haiti's Black men and Black women formed the first independent Black Nation in the New World. Haiti's men and women are descended from warriors, heroes and victors. They have ruled their country since 1804. And they're still a proud, independent nation. The Black men and Black women of America have zero sense of identity for the most part. Most of them think of White people as some sort of superhumans. They rarely tap into their full potential. America's Black people need to focus on education as a way out of poverty and tell their sons and daughters to do the same. Black America needs to stop worshiping its athletes and entertainers and instead protect and support its academics. Black scholars are far more valuable to Black America than basketball players.

Because they run their own country while we have to endure White Oppression, many Haitians think they're better than us African-Americans. That's why, as an African-American woman, I love to make the Haitians, especially the Haitian men, have a lousy time while they reside at the House of Life. You see, while most African-Americans are lazy and shiftless bastards and bitches, Haitians are a hard-working lot. I've been told that Haitian men and Haitian women living in the Republic of Canada live longer and make more money than African-Americans living in the United States of America. Haitians are a hard-working, family-oriented and God-fearing lot. African-Americans are lazy, mean, selfish and short-sighted. I don't like to admit it but I know it's true.

At the House of Life, I'm very friendly to the White men and especially the White women who work in the Administrative Offices. They're the ones who process the paperwork of the immigrants seeking refuge in the Republic of Canada. Don't you find it funny that lots of loud-mouthed, angry Black women who verbally ( and sometimes physically) bash Black men seem to lose their attitude problem around White folks? I've been wondering about it myself. I love to verbally harass the Africans, Haitians, Hispanics, Asians and Arabs staying at the House of Life but I'm always nice to the White people. It must be a remnant of ancestral conditioning or something. Lots of African-Americans have that trait in them. Haitians don't have it. They look everyone, Black or White, directly in the eye and speak loudly to them. They seem fearless. I'm not. Deep down, I'm secretly in awe of White people, especially White women. That explains the seedy relationship I have with my boss Catherine O'Connor.

Catherine O'Connor is a liaison between the unseen Powers That Be in Buffalo City and the House of Life. A short, red-haired and chubby White woman in her fifties. We work together at the House of Life and I'm completely subservient to her. I find that lots of Black American women get very submissive around bossy older White women. I don't know why but I feel very obedient around Miss O'Connor. And I feel very happy when I obey her. Almost unnaturally happy, it seems. Strange, huh?

Miss O'Connor introduced me to the wonders of something called Race Play. It's a game of sexual domination between men and women, and there's a racial element involved. We have lots of wicked fun at her house when nobody's looking. Miss O'Connor has promised to transform me. She tells me that lots of unruly Black women from the inner city have an attitude problem and desperately need an attitude adjustment. She seeks to help me get in touch with the part of me that's docile and pliant. I'm very happy with what she's doing to me. Someday, I'll be a sweet and refined lady instead of the uncouth urban barbarian that I am now.

Obedience to Miss O'Connor is key. And I do this very well. The first day, she made me undress and show her my body. Miss O'Connor inspected my body while wearing latex gloves. She fingered my pussy and asshole while exploring my mouth. Satisfied, she hosed me to clean me up before making me wear a Black and White maid's uniform. Once I was properly dressed, she made sure I followed her instructions to the letter. I cleaned her house, and also ironed her clothes. I cooked for her and served her tea. Miss O'Connor was very impressed with me. And I actually found fulfillment by obeying her. Little by little, Miss O'Connor began transforming me from a loud and obnoxious, perpetually hostile Black woman of the inner city into a docile and pliant person. That woman could work wonders.

Sometimes when I disobeyed her, Miss O'Connor had the task of punishing me. I didn't really mind when she brought out her cane and used it on me. Or when she would bend me over her knee, completely naked, and give my big Black ass a good spanking. Yes, it stung but I knew I deserved it. When my Mistress was pleased with me, she would make me kneel before her and spread her fat thighs. I would breathe in the scent of her womanhood and begin licking her pussy like there was no tomorrow. I love licking the sweet pussy of my Mistress. I'm a middle-aged Black American woman who loves kneeling before a White woman and orally worship her in the year 2009. Miss O'Connor would grab the back of my neck and urge me to lick her pussy like there was no tomorrow. And of course I always did exactly as she asked me. The highlight of these sensual experiences is when Miss O'Connor dons her thick strap-on dildo and fucks me with it. My Mistress puts me on all fours, face down and ass up. That's the way she likes to fuck me. She would then grab my wide hips and thrust her dildo deep into my pussy. I screamed passionately as my sexy White Mistress fucked my Black female pussy. I love it when she dominates me like this. Sometimes, we really push the envelope together. Mistress would whip my big Black ass with her leather belt while spreading my ass cheeks in order to finger my asshole. After fingering my asshole for a while, Mistress likes to shove her dildo up my ass. It hurts, and also feels kind of good. Anal sex is absolutely fantastic. Damn, I love it!

Yes, my Mistress and I have lots of fun together. We've got a very good understanding between us. In our sexually adventurous games of Race Play, she's the Mistress and I'm her very willing and very eager Black female slave. It's a lot of fun for both of us. She gets to fulfill her interracial lesbian domination fantasies and I get to be transformed from a loud and obnoxious Black chick from the inner city to a more docile and pliant, easygoing human being. In the long run, it's what's best for me. No matter how much of a witch I am to the poor immigrants at the House of Life in Buffalo City, remember that I'm somebody else's bitch at night. And I love it. It's brought balance into my life.