11-02-2021, 08:45 PM
After Angel and her friend Jasmine left my house I spent twenty minutes trying my hardest to make myself cum. My sticky fingers hammered my own pussy relentlessly as images of the white bitch from my porn magazine flashed through my head. I envisioned that bitch sucking her nigger lover’s monstrous cock. But even that obscene thought wasn’t enough to shove me over the brink to sexual climax. And still I slammed my wet fingers in and out of my quaking pussy. Awkwardly I pulled the tittie that Angel had abused so cruelly earlier in the evening to my lips. I sucked the swollen nipple between my lips and bite it hard. I prayed that the horrible agony would finally push me over the edge into the world of sexually fulfillment. I braced myself and bite even harder as the agony tore me to pieces. But, nothing, not even a glimmer of sexual pleasure was to be mine.
Sobbing I finally admitted defeat. Slowly on weakened and wobbly knees I stood. Without even thinking about it I shoved my sticky fingers into my mouth and began to suck and lick clean of my own girly goo. What a freaky fucking sight I must have made. There I was a fully-grown 34-year-old adult woman naked in my own home. My ass still burned from the god-awful whipping Angel’s girlfriend Jasmine had given me. My poor knees were nearly rubbed raw from all the crawling I had been made to do. And to top it all off the blast furnace between my legs burned hotter than ever. I wanted to scream out my rage but what was the use no one would have heard but me. No one would cared but me. And, who was I, what was I? I was nothing but a nigger girl’s fuck toy I was forced to realize. I was nothing but a 34-year-old slave slut owned by a 21 year old nigger Mistress and I had better get use to the fact.
I turned off the lights as I stumbled towards the dinning room. Exhausted I slowly picked up the dirty dinner dishes and carried them into the kitchen. The ache in my legs was a constant reminder of the six inch “cum fuck me” high heels still strapped to my feet. ‘Why don’t I take them off and rest my poor feet?’ I thought. But deep in my being I knew why. ‘What if, God forbid, Angel turned up her holy Gangster shit music at this very moment. I only have three minutes to be standing in her living room naked and in heels. If I took the heels off and she turned on her music would I have time to replace the shoes and respond in time?’ No, no, no a thousand times no I wouldn’t take that chance. I couldn’t take that chance; the horrid heels would remain strapped to my feet. Yes, yes, a million times yes; I was slowly learning my place. Slowly but surely I was accepting the fact that I was nothing more than a white 34 year old female fuck toy for my Nigger Mistress Angel.
Trudging back through the house I passed through the living room towards my bedroom. In the semi-darkest of the house I spied one of the black dildos that Angel had forced me to buy that day. Taking a deep breath I picked it up and then picked up the porn magazine from off the floor. Feeling totally debased I took my toys into the bedroom with me.
The room was dark as I entered and I moved slowly not wanting to trip. I flopped onto my bed, ass first, and was rudely reminded of my recent strapping. My ass exploded into another round of intense agony. Immediately I jumped to my feet. Turning around I crawled onto the king sized bed knees first and stretched out on my tummy. Then it was my poor abused nipple’s turn to cause me mind-wrenching agony as it hit the mattress. I groaned in misery as the agony radiating from my tittie was reawakened. I lifted myself up on my elbows to ease the pressure on my tittie. Reaching over to the nightstand beside my bed I flipped on the table lamp. The room glowed in the soft light.
While my sexual craving had subsided several levels my pussy still ached with lingering need. I picked up the dirty magazine and began to flip through it. God how I wanted to throw it on the floor and just go to sleep, it had been a long, long day. I wanted with all my heart to prove to myself that I did indeed have some control left over my life. But whom was I kidding? Soon I pulled my knees up under me as if I were waiting to be mounded from behind. Within minutes the obscene glossy pictures in my dirty magazine had my sexual engine nearing it’s red line once more.
One picture caught my attention in particular. The white bitch’s cute face was covered with gobs of the black stud’s cum. Cum dripped from her brow over one eye, another ran from her nose and upper lip and yet another had landed squarely on one of her cheeks. The white slut’s snake like tongue tried to lick the sweet goo from her lips while the mighty black cock was posed only inches from her open mouth.
Oh god how I wanted to be that white bitch tasting the sweet nectar of black dick goo. In my trans like state I slammed the huge black dildo deep into yawning pussy. Stroke after stroke I hammered the fake dick into myself. I stared at the picture as my mind screamed, ‘Pleaseeee ohhhhhh pleaseeee why can’t it be me …. ohhhhh god yes it should be me feeling and tasting that hot black male goo.’ And still I pounded my pussy with the thick black dildo. Thrusting it to the hilt deep into my hungry pussy. Once again I was on the very brink of orgasmic bliss. ‘Ohhhhhh godddd yesssssssss,’ my mind screamed.
I couldn’t believe what I was doing. A 34 year old white woman driven to fucking herself like a sex starved slut by her 19 year old black Mistress. I had sank so low. But nothing mattered, nothing mattered except cumming.
Awkwardly I grabbed the tittie that my Nigger Mistress had abused so horrible. I dug my nails into the hard nipple and squeezed. With my other hand I continued to fuck my own pussy with the fake black dick with punishing strokes.
Then it happened the mirical of all miricals I was cumming. Sweet Jesus in heaven I was cumming and cumming hard. I lost all control as I screamed my pleasure out loud, “FUCK YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.” Over and over the waves of orgasmic pleasure slammed into my quaking naked body. As the ultimate sexual joy slowly ebbed I closed my eyes to lingering in the after glow. Mercifully my long day came to an end as I soon fell into a deep peaceful sleep.
The morning sun was already poring into my bedroom when I again opened my eyes Sunday morning. Much to my horror the black dildo I had used so effectively was still crammed deep in my pussy. I putted the fake cock from between my legs and placed it on the night stand beside my bed. As I rolled off the bed I realized that my one tittie was still badly injured. The nipple had turned a ugly purplish color and had swollen to nearly three times its’ normal size. And I could still feel the stinging soreness radiating from my well whipped ass.
I was still wearing my pink garter belt, stockings and six inch high heels from the evening before. After rising gingerly from the bed I put the dirty magazine away in my lingerie draw. And while I couldn’t help but feel like a cheap and dirty slut I also had to admit that I hadn’t felt so robust and energized in days. It’s amazing what one terrific orgasm will do for ones psyche.
However, by the time I walked into my bathroom the same old ache returned to my legs reminding me of the god awful high heels which I still wore. After showering I dried off and walked back into my bedroom.
I went about dressing on the slim chance that Angel would turn up the volume of her ungodly music. I reminded myself that I was now nothing more than a fucktoy on call. I hooked the pink a garter belt about my trim waist and then slipped pink a new pair of stockings onto my long lean legs. Taking one of my new pink mini dress from its bag on the floor I stepped into it and pulled it up slipping the spaghetti straps over my shoulders. After adjusting my titties into the dress I smoothed the very short skirt. The dress was backless and all but frontless but at least it did provide a tiny amount of modesty. It covered my pussy and ass I thought even if didn’t leave much to the imagination regarding my front. Then I slipped the pair of pink six inch “cum fuck me” heels, which Angel had forced me to buy, onto my feet. After stepping into my shoes I buckled the somewhat stout ankle straps.
Sunday passed uneventfully. I busied myself with “bitch work” around the house. Cleaning up after my “dinner party”, dusting, vacuuming and I even mopped the tile floors and deep cleaned the bathrooms. Then I spent time putting away my purchases from Saturday’s shopping trip. I was still puzzled by the red hair dye Angel had made me buy. All day I listened intently for Angel’s gangster rap crap to start blasting but it didn’t.
From time to time I did gave Angel’s “gift” some thought. It was horrible what she was making me do. How could I lure another white woman into Angel’s world of brutality and sexual abuse? Yet if I didn’t obey Angel I knew she would drop me a hot potato. Losing Angel was a thought I couldn’t think without tears welling in my eyes.
As the day passed I began to think more and more about renting a bedroom in my home. I would be in total control of who I rented the room to. I could pick a hot, submissive young woman and turn her into another white assed slut for my young Nigger Mistress, Angel. On the plus side I was sure Angel would enjoy having both her white hos living under one roof and within easy access. The minus side was a bit more problematic as a roommate would mean I would have to take on something of a more dominate persona. A role that I played well a few short weeks ago, before Angel taught me my proper place. But, one which seemed so foreign to me now. I wondered if I’d be able to dominate anyone even for a short time.
Monday morning dawned a bit over cast. Having decided to take on a “roommate” I was excited to get the ball rolling. I quickly bathed. After shaving my legs and pus I dressed in what I was starting to call my “slut on call uniform”. You know the one, short revealing pink micro-mini dress, pink garter-belt and stocking and six inch “cum fuck me” high heels.
Not wishing to waste any time I picked up the phone and called the newspaper’s want ad line. I placed the following ad “Female seeks same for roommate. Nice home, up scale and safe neighborhood. Non-smoker perfected. $100/week rent negotiable.”
My phone began ringing off the hook that very evening and I started to make appointments to show the room the following day. Of all the inquires one stood out above the rest. The first thing that struck me about Suzanne was her cute southern accent; it was obvious she was from the Deep South. Then I noted a certain sense of desperation in her tone. As we chatted Suzanne did a very strange thing, I thought. She offered me references without being asked; none of the other ladies I had talked with had done that. It seems Suzanne was a teacher. At any rate, I wrote down the names and numbers she gave me then set her appointment for 5PM the next day. Suzanne would be the last appointment of the day.
I continued to wonder about Suzanne. There just seemed to be something so very odd about her. For one thing, none of the other women had offered references without my asking for them. In fact a couple hadn’t even had any. So it was that I set about to quench my curiosity.
I was mildly surprised when the first number Suzanne had given turned out to be disconnected. When the second turned out to be another dead end and I was mildly pissed. But, more determined than ever to get the bottom of Miss Suzanne. Since Suzanne had told me she was or had been a teacher I began calling area colleges. An hour later just when I was about to give up I got a lucky break.
“Hello, Riverdale college District, may I help you,” the conversation had started so innocently. But that is where all innocents stopped. For over a half hour I spoke with an older lady who had known Suzanne personally. As the lady told me her torrid tale I soon realized that Miss Susanne McNeely was exactly the slut I was looking for.
The next morning I again dressed in my pink slut “on call” uniform including pink stockings and heels. My appointments to show the room began about 10AM. Most of the ladies were somewhat taken aback by my less than modest appearance. One even left in a “saintly” huff. The others I told that I would call after making my decision. But that was all okay, as I had already made up my mind.
As the appointed time for Suzanne’s arrival approached I began to bait the trap. I retrieved my dirty porn magazine from my bedroom and placed it on the coffee table where Suzanne would be sure to see it. As a final touch I placed one of my long thick black dildos on the table beside the chair where Suzanne would be seated.
As scheduled Suzanne knocked on my front door promptly at 5PM. I answered the door at once. I couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious in my abbreviated costume. Taking a deep breath I swung the door open. Suzanne’s eyes opened wide for the briefest of moments as she took in my revealing pink outfit. “My I help you,” I asked politely through the screen door.
“Ahhh, yes,” Suzanne quickly recovered she senses, “I’m Suzanne McNeally I spoke to you on the phone about a room you have to rent.”
As Suzanne spoke with her sweet, innocent southern accent I was busy taking inventory of the property that I would soon present to my Nigger Mistress, Angel. And what a piece of property it was too. Standing on my porch was a very curvaceous young woman of about my age. The first thing I noticed was Suzanne’s sparkling green eyes and auburn hair. I noted as odd that she had her hair done in twin ponytails off the back of her head much like a little girl. But, the dress Suzanne wore clearly stated she was a full grown woman. She had on a black chiffon dress with spaghetti straps that hugged her lethal 5’6” frame like a second skin. Her smallish breasts were presented at their best advantage as the dress’s V shaped neckline exposed more cleavage than it concealed. The thin material of Suzanne’s dress allowed the impression of her hard nipples to be seen clearly. Suzanne’s trim waist flowed into softly rounded hips. It was easy to notice with the absence of those ugly pantie lines that Suzanne wasn’t wearing any undies. I smiled to myself as I realized that under her flimsy dress Suzanne McNeally was completely naked. The hem of that dress ended just above the middle of her shapely thighs. I had never seen such fine legs on a “short” girl. The ensemble was completed by a pair of classic black three inch pumps. Suzanne left no doubt that she was a Southern Belle built for Southern Comfort.
Having assessed the playground and finding it ripe and lush I nearly purred, “Of course, dear, do come in.” As I spoke I pushed the screen door open for my guest. Innocently Suzanne stepped into my lair and followed me to the living room.
“You have a very lovely home, Miss Smith,” Suzanne tried to suck up to me as we walked.
“Why thank you, Suzanne, aren’t you just the most respectful thing,” I smiled warmly. I considered doing the polite thing and telling Suzanne she could call me by my first name Barbara but thought it best to keep the cute thing on edge. “This is the living room,” I stopped and waved the curvy Suzanne ahead of me, “Of course, your room will come with full house privileges.”
“Ohhhh really,” Suzanne seemed stunned, “that would be wonderful.” At that moment Suzanne spied the items I had purposely left on the coffee table for her benefit. Her reaction didn’t disappoint me at all. Suzanne’s eyes bugged wide open for as she turned beet red with embarrassment.
“Ahhh is there something wrong, dear,” I inquired as if I didn’t know.
Breaking her gaze Suzanne responded politely, “Na, no, Ma’am … nothings wrong.” But I could already see a thin film of perspiration form over her lovely brow.
“Well, then,” I began, “I suppose you’re anxious to see your room.”
“Yes, Ma’am that would be very nice.”
“Well it’s this way,” I said as I began to walk towards the bedroom side of the house. Suzanne followed me closely into the hall. Pointing down the hall I pointed out my master bedroom suite. “That’s my bedroom it has its’ own bath so this one will be yours’,” I said pointing out the hallway bathroom.
“Ohhhh this is lovely, Ma’am,” Suzanne exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm.
Walking another door down the hall I said with a smile and a wave of my arm, “Here it is, honey.”
Suzanne walked into the room ahead of me as her eyes lit up, “Ohhhhh my it is beautiful, Ma’am, much more than I expected. And, such a large closet.”
“I’m glad you like it, dear,”
Suzanne was obviously delighted with the room, “I just love brass beds. Is it queen size?”
“Why yes it is, honey,” I smiled, “It use to be me mine until I bought my new king size bed a few months ago.”
“It’s wonderful, Ma’am,” Suzanne replied. To my delight Suzanne sat on the bed mattress and bounced a couple of times testing its firmness. Her smallish breasts bounced provocatively and quite frankly I wanted to maul her right then and there. But, with some effort I controlled my carnal urges.
“Well then shell we adjourn to the living room to discuss the details?” I queried.
“Well … er … aah yes …. we can do that,” Suzanne replied nervously as her lovely cheeks began to blush.
I allowed Suzanne to lead the way back to the living room. The trip was quite scenic I have to admit. The lovely swing in Suze’s tight lit’ backyard had a hypnotic effect on me.
Back in the living room I seated Suzanne in a chair kitty corner from the sofa. Then I took my place on the sofa. The coffee table with my dirty porn magazine and black dildo on it was in front of both of us.
For several minutes we chatted about everything except the room. It was easy to tell that Suzanne was very nervous as she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs. It wasn’t an unpleasant sight as her skirt worked its way up her lovely thighs.
Now and then Suzanne would glance at the magazine on the table. She thought that she was being coy and I didn’t notice. But, I noticed everything. I noticed her deep breathing as she tried to control herself. I noticed her perfectly shaped breasts heave up and down with each breath. I noticed the apprehension in her sparkling green eyes, the fear. I noticed the perspiration that broke out upon the features of her gorgeous face. Oh yes, I noticed everything.
Now all I had to do was rise the ante, “Well you seem like a lovely young woman, Suzanne, I think you’d make a wonderful roommate. Would you like that, Suzanne?”
“Ohhhh, yes, yes, Ma’am, I would love that,” Suzanne replied eagerly.
“Then it’s agreed. Now about the rent, dear, you know it’s due in advance,” I purred knowing that Suzanne had no way of paying.
“Ahhh, I … I don’t have any money Ma’am,” Beads of perspiration began to coat Suzanne’s lovely face.
“You don’t have any money?” I faked real concern, “What about your job?”
“I … I … I’m … I am between jobs right now, Ma’am,” I could see tears welling in Suzanne’s beautiful eyes as she spoke.
“Ohhhh I see. Well that does put a different complexion on the matter doesn’t it, Suzanne?” I said very firmly. “Can you explain what happened with the teaching job you were talking about on the phone?”
Suzanne’s face turned beet red as she began to stammer, “Ahhhh … yaa … er … I … I left for … for personal reasons, Ma’am.”
“Personal reasons?” I wasn’t about to drop the issue, I couldn’t.
Suzanne’s lovely face burned red with shame. “Ahhhhh,” she stalled for time, “I …well … er … I … I was bangd, bangd by two of my students.” Suzanne was on the verge of bursting into tears.
“Ohhh my that is just awful. But, there is still the matter of the rent after all I am not running a shelter for the homeless.” I replied with a certain chill in my voice.
Sobbing I finally admitted defeat. Slowly on weakened and wobbly knees I stood. Without even thinking about it I shoved my sticky fingers into my mouth and began to suck and lick clean of my own girly goo. What a freaky fucking sight I must have made. There I was a fully-grown 34-year-old adult woman naked in my own home. My ass still burned from the god-awful whipping Angel’s girlfriend Jasmine had given me. My poor knees were nearly rubbed raw from all the crawling I had been made to do. And to top it all off the blast furnace between my legs burned hotter than ever. I wanted to scream out my rage but what was the use no one would have heard but me. No one would cared but me. And, who was I, what was I? I was nothing but a nigger girl’s fuck toy I was forced to realize. I was nothing but a 34-year-old slave slut owned by a 21 year old nigger Mistress and I had better get use to the fact.
I turned off the lights as I stumbled towards the dinning room. Exhausted I slowly picked up the dirty dinner dishes and carried them into the kitchen. The ache in my legs was a constant reminder of the six inch “cum fuck me” high heels still strapped to my feet. ‘Why don’t I take them off and rest my poor feet?’ I thought. But deep in my being I knew why. ‘What if, God forbid, Angel turned up her holy Gangster shit music at this very moment. I only have three minutes to be standing in her living room naked and in heels. If I took the heels off and she turned on her music would I have time to replace the shoes and respond in time?’ No, no, no a thousand times no I wouldn’t take that chance. I couldn’t take that chance; the horrid heels would remain strapped to my feet. Yes, yes, a million times yes; I was slowly learning my place. Slowly but surely I was accepting the fact that I was nothing more than a white 34 year old female fuck toy for my Nigger Mistress Angel.
Trudging back through the house I passed through the living room towards my bedroom. In the semi-darkest of the house I spied one of the black dildos that Angel had forced me to buy that day. Taking a deep breath I picked it up and then picked up the porn magazine from off the floor. Feeling totally debased I took my toys into the bedroom with me.
The room was dark as I entered and I moved slowly not wanting to trip. I flopped onto my bed, ass first, and was rudely reminded of my recent strapping. My ass exploded into another round of intense agony. Immediately I jumped to my feet. Turning around I crawled onto the king sized bed knees first and stretched out on my tummy. Then it was my poor abused nipple’s turn to cause me mind-wrenching agony as it hit the mattress. I groaned in misery as the agony radiating from my tittie was reawakened. I lifted myself up on my elbows to ease the pressure on my tittie. Reaching over to the nightstand beside my bed I flipped on the table lamp. The room glowed in the soft light.
While my sexual craving had subsided several levels my pussy still ached with lingering need. I picked up the dirty magazine and began to flip through it. God how I wanted to throw it on the floor and just go to sleep, it had been a long, long day. I wanted with all my heart to prove to myself that I did indeed have some control left over my life. But whom was I kidding? Soon I pulled my knees up under me as if I were waiting to be mounded from behind. Within minutes the obscene glossy pictures in my dirty magazine had my sexual engine nearing it’s red line once more.
One picture caught my attention in particular. The white bitch’s cute face was covered with gobs of the black stud’s cum. Cum dripped from her brow over one eye, another ran from her nose and upper lip and yet another had landed squarely on one of her cheeks. The white slut’s snake like tongue tried to lick the sweet goo from her lips while the mighty black cock was posed only inches from her open mouth.
Oh god how I wanted to be that white bitch tasting the sweet nectar of black dick goo. In my trans like state I slammed the huge black dildo deep into yawning pussy. Stroke after stroke I hammered the fake dick into myself. I stared at the picture as my mind screamed, ‘Pleaseeee ohhhhhh pleaseeee why can’t it be me …. ohhhhh god yes it should be me feeling and tasting that hot black male goo.’ And still I pounded my pussy with the thick black dildo. Thrusting it to the hilt deep into my hungry pussy. Once again I was on the very brink of orgasmic bliss. ‘Ohhhhhh godddd yesssssssss,’ my mind screamed.
I couldn’t believe what I was doing. A 34 year old white woman driven to fucking herself like a sex starved slut by her 19 year old black Mistress. I had sank so low. But nothing mattered, nothing mattered except cumming.
Awkwardly I grabbed the tittie that my Nigger Mistress had abused so horrible. I dug my nails into the hard nipple and squeezed. With my other hand I continued to fuck my own pussy with the fake black dick with punishing strokes.
Then it happened the mirical of all miricals I was cumming. Sweet Jesus in heaven I was cumming and cumming hard. I lost all control as I screamed my pleasure out loud, “FUCK YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.” Over and over the waves of orgasmic pleasure slammed into my quaking naked body. As the ultimate sexual joy slowly ebbed I closed my eyes to lingering in the after glow. Mercifully my long day came to an end as I soon fell into a deep peaceful sleep.
The morning sun was already poring into my bedroom when I again opened my eyes Sunday morning. Much to my horror the black dildo I had used so effectively was still crammed deep in my pussy. I putted the fake cock from between my legs and placed it on the night stand beside my bed. As I rolled off the bed I realized that my one tittie was still badly injured. The nipple had turned a ugly purplish color and had swollen to nearly three times its’ normal size. And I could still feel the stinging soreness radiating from my well whipped ass.
I was still wearing my pink garter belt, stockings and six inch high heels from the evening before. After rising gingerly from the bed I put the dirty magazine away in my lingerie draw. And while I couldn’t help but feel like a cheap and dirty slut I also had to admit that I hadn’t felt so robust and energized in days. It’s amazing what one terrific orgasm will do for ones psyche.
However, by the time I walked into my bathroom the same old ache returned to my legs reminding me of the god awful high heels which I still wore. After showering I dried off and walked back into my bedroom.
I went about dressing on the slim chance that Angel would turn up the volume of her ungodly music. I reminded myself that I was now nothing more than a fucktoy on call. I hooked the pink a garter belt about my trim waist and then slipped pink a new pair of stockings onto my long lean legs. Taking one of my new pink mini dress from its bag on the floor I stepped into it and pulled it up slipping the spaghetti straps over my shoulders. After adjusting my titties into the dress I smoothed the very short skirt. The dress was backless and all but frontless but at least it did provide a tiny amount of modesty. It covered my pussy and ass I thought even if didn’t leave much to the imagination regarding my front. Then I slipped the pair of pink six inch “cum fuck me” heels, which Angel had forced me to buy, onto my feet. After stepping into my shoes I buckled the somewhat stout ankle straps.
Sunday passed uneventfully. I busied myself with “bitch work” around the house. Cleaning up after my “dinner party”, dusting, vacuuming and I even mopped the tile floors and deep cleaned the bathrooms. Then I spent time putting away my purchases from Saturday’s shopping trip. I was still puzzled by the red hair dye Angel had made me buy. All day I listened intently for Angel’s gangster rap crap to start blasting but it didn’t.
From time to time I did gave Angel’s “gift” some thought. It was horrible what she was making me do. How could I lure another white woman into Angel’s world of brutality and sexual abuse? Yet if I didn’t obey Angel I knew she would drop me a hot potato. Losing Angel was a thought I couldn’t think without tears welling in my eyes.
As the day passed I began to think more and more about renting a bedroom in my home. I would be in total control of who I rented the room to. I could pick a hot, submissive young woman and turn her into another white assed slut for my young Nigger Mistress, Angel. On the plus side I was sure Angel would enjoy having both her white hos living under one roof and within easy access. The minus side was a bit more problematic as a roommate would mean I would have to take on something of a more dominate persona. A role that I played well a few short weeks ago, before Angel taught me my proper place. But, one which seemed so foreign to me now. I wondered if I’d be able to dominate anyone even for a short time.
Monday morning dawned a bit over cast. Having decided to take on a “roommate” I was excited to get the ball rolling. I quickly bathed. After shaving my legs and pus I dressed in what I was starting to call my “slut on call uniform”. You know the one, short revealing pink micro-mini dress, pink garter-belt and stocking and six inch “cum fuck me” high heels.
Not wishing to waste any time I picked up the phone and called the newspaper’s want ad line. I placed the following ad “Female seeks same for roommate. Nice home, up scale and safe neighborhood. Non-smoker perfected. $100/week rent negotiable.”
My phone began ringing off the hook that very evening and I started to make appointments to show the room the following day. Of all the inquires one stood out above the rest. The first thing that struck me about Suzanne was her cute southern accent; it was obvious she was from the Deep South. Then I noted a certain sense of desperation in her tone. As we chatted Suzanne did a very strange thing, I thought. She offered me references without being asked; none of the other ladies I had talked with had done that. It seems Suzanne was a teacher. At any rate, I wrote down the names and numbers she gave me then set her appointment for 5PM the next day. Suzanne would be the last appointment of the day.
I continued to wonder about Suzanne. There just seemed to be something so very odd about her. For one thing, none of the other women had offered references without my asking for them. In fact a couple hadn’t even had any. So it was that I set about to quench my curiosity.
I was mildly surprised when the first number Suzanne had given turned out to be disconnected. When the second turned out to be another dead end and I was mildly pissed. But, more determined than ever to get the bottom of Miss Suzanne. Since Suzanne had told me she was or had been a teacher I began calling area colleges. An hour later just when I was about to give up I got a lucky break.
“Hello, Riverdale college District, may I help you,” the conversation had started so innocently. But that is where all innocents stopped. For over a half hour I spoke with an older lady who had known Suzanne personally. As the lady told me her torrid tale I soon realized that Miss Susanne McNeely was exactly the slut I was looking for.
The next morning I again dressed in my pink slut “on call” uniform including pink stockings and heels. My appointments to show the room began about 10AM. Most of the ladies were somewhat taken aback by my less than modest appearance. One even left in a “saintly” huff. The others I told that I would call after making my decision. But that was all okay, as I had already made up my mind.
As the appointed time for Suzanne’s arrival approached I began to bait the trap. I retrieved my dirty porn magazine from my bedroom and placed it on the coffee table where Suzanne would be sure to see it. As a final touch I placed one of my long thick black dildos on the table beside the chair where Suzanne would be seated.
As scheduled Suzanne knocked on my front door promptly at 5PM. I answered the door at once. I couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious in my abbreviated costume. Taking a deep breath I swung the door open. Suzanne’s eyes opened wide for the briefest of moments as she took in my revealing pink outfit. “My I help you,” I asked politely through the screen door.
“Ahhh, yes,” Suzanne quickly recovered she senses, “I’m Suzanne McNeally I spoke to you on the phone about a room you have to rent.”
As Suzanne spoke with her sweet, innocent southern accent I was busy taking inventory of the property that I would soon present to my Nigger Mistress, Angel. And what a piece of property it was too. Standing on my porch was a very curvaceous young woman of about my age. The first thing I noticed was Suzanne’s sparkling green eyes and auburn hair. I noted as odd that she had her hair done in twin ponytails off the back of her head much like a little girl. But, the dress Suzanne wore clearly stated she was a full grown woman. She had on a black chiffon dress with spaghetti straps that hugged her lethal 5’6” frame like a second skin. Her smallish breasts were presented at their best advantage as the dress’s V shaped neckline exposed more cleavage than it concealed. The thin material of Suzanne’s dress allowed the impression of her hard nipples to be seen clearly. Suzanne’s trim waist flowed into softly rounded hips. It was easy to notice with the absence of those ugly pantie lines that Suzanne wasn’t wearing any undies. I smiled to myself as I realized that under her flimsy dress Suzanne McNeally was completely naked. The hem of that dress ended just above the middle of her shapely thighs. I had never seen such fine legs on a “short” girl. The ensemble was completed by a pair of classic black three inch pumps. Suzanne left no doubt that she was a Southern Belle built for Southern Comfort.
Having assessed the playground and finding it ripe and lush I nearly purred, “Of course, dear, do come in.” As I spoke I pushed the screen door open for my guest. Innocently Suzanne stepped into my lair and followed me to the living room.
“You have a very lovely home, Miss Smith,” Suzanne tried to suck up to me as we walked.
“Why thank you, Suzanne, aren’t you just the most respectful thing,” I smiled warmly. I considered doing the polite thing and telling Suzanne she could call me by my first name Barbara but thought it best to keep the cute thing on edge. “This is the living room,” I stopped and waved the curvy Suzanne ahead of me, “Of course, your room will come with full house privileges.”
“Ohhhh really,” Suzanne seemed stunned, “that would be wonderful.” At that moment Suzanne spied the items I had purposely left on the coffee table for her benefit. Her reaction didn’t disappoint me at all. Suzanne’s eyes bugged wide open for as she turned beet red with embarrassment.
“Ahhh is there something wrong, dear,” I inquired as if I didn’t know.
Breaking her gaze Suzanne responded politely, “Na, no, Ma’am … nothings wrong.” But I could already see a thin film of perspiration form over her lovely brow.
“Well, then,” I began, “I suppose you’re anxious to see your room.”
“Yes, Ma’am that would be very nice.”
“Well it’s this way,” I said as I began to walk towards the bedroom side of the house. Suzanne followed me closely into the hall. Pointing down the hall I pointed out my master bedroom suite. “That’s my bedroom it has its’ own bath so this one will be yours’,” I said pointing out the hallway bathroom.
“Ohhhh this is lovely, Ma’am,” Suzanne exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm.
Walking another door down the hall I said with a smile and a wave of my arm, “Here it is, honey.”
Suzanne walked into the room ahead of me as her eyes lit up, “Ohhhhh my it is beautiful, Ma’am, much more than I expected. And, such a large closet.”
“I’m glad you like it, dear,”
Suzanne was obviously delighted with the room, “I just love brass beds. Is it queen size?”
“Why yes it is, honey,” I smiled, “It use to be me mine until I bought my new king size bed a few months ago.”
“It’s wonderful, Ma’am,” Suzanne replied. To my delight Suzanne sat on the bed mattress and bounced a couple of times testing its firmness. Her smallish breasts bounced provocatively and quite frankly I wanted to maul her right then and there. But, with some effort I controlled my carnal urges.
“Well then shell we adjourn to the living room to discuss the details?” I queried.
“Well … er … aah yes …. we can do that,” Suzanne replied nervously as her lovely cheeks began to blush.
I allowed Suzanne to lead the way back to the living room. The trip was quite scenic I have to admit. The lovely swing in Suze’s tight lit’ backyard had a hypnotic effect on me.
Back in the living room I seated Suzanne in a chair kitty corner from the sofa. Then I took my place on the sofa. The coffee table with my dirty porn magazine and black dildo on it was in front of both of us.
For several minutes we chatted about everything except the room. It was easy to tell that Suzanne was very nervous as she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs. It wasn’t an unpleasant sight as her skirt worked its way up her lovely thighs.
Now and then Suzanne would glance at the magazine on the table. She thought that she was being coy and I didn’t notice. But, I noticed everything. I noticed her deep breathing as she tried to control herself. I noticed her perfectly shaped breasts heave up and down with each breath. I noticed the apprehension in her sparkling green eyes, the fear. I noticed the perspiration that broke out upon the features of her gorgeous face. Oh yes, I noticed everything.
Now all I had to do was rise the ante, “Well you seem like a lovely young woman, Suzanne, I think you’d make a wonderful roommate. Would you like that, Suzanne?”
“Ohhhh, yes, yes, Ma’am, I would love that,” Suzanne replied eagerly.
“Then it’s agreed. Now about the rent, dear, you know it’s due in advance,” I purred knowing that Suzanne had no way of paying.
“Ahhh, I … I don’t have any money Ma’am,” Beads of perspiration began to coat Suzanne’s lovely face.
“You don’t have any money?” I faked real concern, “What about your job?”
“I … I … I’m … I am between jobs right now, Ma’am,” I could see tears welling in Suzanne’s beautiful eyes as she spoke.
“Ohhhh I see. Well that does put a different complexion on the matter doesn’t it, Suzanne?” I said very firmly. “Can you explain what happened with the teaching job you were talking about on the phone?”
Suzanne’s face turned beet red as she began to stammer, “Ahhhh … yaa … er … I … I left for … for personal reasons, Ma’am.”
“Personal reasons?” I wasn’t about to drop the issue, I couldn’t.
Suzanne’s lovely face burned red with shame. “Ahhhhh,” she stalled for time, “I …well … er … I … I was bangd, bangd by two of my students.” Suzanne was on the verge of bursting into tears.
“Ohhh my that is just awful. But, there is still the matter of the rent after all I am not running a shelter for the homeless.” I replied with a certain chill in my voice.
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