Strong Black Woman Enslaved

The things I do continue to puzzle me, folks. There is a fine line between our perception of ourselves and our innermost desires. My name is Bernadine Arnold. I’m a six-foot-one, muscular and fit, busty and big-bottomed, dark-skinned Black woman of Haitian descent living in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts. By day, I’m a Probation Officer working for the Plymouth County. I love my job. Being a Black woman working in the field of Criminal Justice grants me a lot of power. And I absolutely love it. What can I say? In many ways, I got it made. We need more Black male and Black female professionals in the field of Criminal Justice. We’re overrepresented on the wrong side of the law and underrepresented on the right side. But that’s slowly changing, and I’m quite glad. Word up, as the young people say!

By night, I become something so far removed from my image as a straight-laced Black female professional that my friends and family would never recognize me. Folks, I got something to confess. And as a Black professional woman, it’s not easy for me to admit it. However, it’s such a big part of my sexuality that denying it would be useless at this point. Are you ready? Here goes nothing. Folks, I have a slave fetish. I am a modern-day Black woman with slave fantasies. I want to dominated by a cruel and domineering White person. I want them to completely dominate me and debase me as a Black woman. I get off on racial humiliation…though the strictly consensual kind, of course. And I don’t think I’m not the only one. I’ve met people of all races with this peculiar fetish. The fact that I’m a Black woman with this particular desire has made quite the odd duck even in the circles that I travel in. This fetish of mine has made many of the White men and White women I’ve been with quite uncomfortable. They just don’t know how to go about dominating a big and tall Black woman. If they only knew how submissive I am, deep down. Fortunately, I found someone capable of taking me in hand and giving me the domination that I deserve it. One of the men I supervise as a Probation Officer.

His name is Sean Wilson. A big and tall, red-haired and green-eyed Caucasian male who recently got paroled after serving ten years at Walpole State Prison in upstate Massachusetts. Sean Wilson went to jail for a hate crime. He beat up some Nigerian immigrant who shoved him at a supermarket, and in the heat of the fight, he was heard calling the person some really unflattering names such as filthy bastard and inferior swine. Sean Wilson is a self-admitted misanthrope. He doesn’t like anyone. He hates women, and has been known to say that women were evil. He doesn’t think much of his fellow men, and has been heard calling all men pathetic weaklings. Excluding himself, of course. Sean hates men and women of all races, backgrounds and sexual orientations equally. The human race is the bane of his existence.

Sean has a real problem with just about everybody he meets. He doesn’t like Blacks, or his fellow Whites, whom he considers the scum of the universe. He also doesn’t like Hispanics or Asians for that matter. He wishes the entire human race would wipe itself out and leave him the sole human being left alive on the planet. He’s a self-admitted bisexual, having left Nancy, his Irish Catholic wife of five years for another man, his gay pal Joey. They got into a dispute a few weeks after he left his wife and Joey threw him out into the streets. Just because Sean is bisexual doesn’t make him more tolerant of sexual minorities. Believe me when I tell you that he really doesn’t like gay people. He thinks the straight world sucks and dislikes effeminate gay men and masculine lesbian chicks. He basically hates everyone. He doesn’t like citizens or immigrants. He hates the entire world and has been known to say that if the world ended tomorrow, he’d celebrate it. He’s the most despicable human being I know. And I want him to play the role of dominant White Master to my inner Black female submissive and would-be slave.

Well, folks, I’m happy to say that Sean didn’t disappoint. Really, the arrogant bisexual White male took to interracial domination and racial humiliation like a cat takes to hunting mice. He just needed a little coaching. Which I was happy to provide him with. Contrarily to what most people think, in a dominant versus submissive relationship, the submissive is really the one in control. Sean really got in touch with his inner Master just as I got in touch with my inner Slave. And he unleashed an erotic hell upon me. Presently, he has me on all fours on a bench in his basement. There are steel bindings shackling my hands and feet. Sean fastened a doggy collar around my neck, and has a long leash attached to it. Tugging on the leash with his left hand, he spanks my big round ass with his right hand. I cringe, for my ass stings where he hits me. Laughing, Sean tells me he’s always wanted to spank a big-booty Black woman like myself.

I grit my teeth as Sean uses the leash as a whip and begins flogging me. I turn briefly, and watch him as he goes to work on me. With one hand he holds the whip, with the other he holds his dick. His long and thick, uncircumcised white cock. He tells me he’s going to give me a sound beating. According to him, women in general, particularly women like myself have too much power in today’s world. Thirty or so years ago, female probation officers were unheard of in this country. Now we’re the fastest group in the field. And many men ( and a few women, it must said, for it is true ) aren’t happy about that. Many male criminals prefer to deal with male probation personnel, and many male probation officers find their female colleagues catty, unreliable and sometimes downright impossible to deal with. Having dealt with a female probation officer or two, I know some of these complaining men have a point. We could be quite difficult to deal with, and Sean wanted to make me pay for that. He was making my big round ass pay for the collective sins of female probation personnel everywhere. He beat my ass, hard. In spite of myself, I began to scream. His whip-like leash struck me on the buttocks, the back, the legs and even the face. I screamed as my body endured the deliciously hot pain.

After beating me senseless with his improvised whip, Sean grabbed my long Black hair and yanked my head back. His voice almost a whisper, he asked me if I’d had enough. Smiling wickedly, I said hell no. Grinning, Sean told me he was just getting started. Then he forcefully pried my ass cheeks apart. I felt him apply something slick and cold against my anus. He told me it was lubricant. A moment later, I felt something hard press itself against my anus. Gripping my hips, Sean shoved his dick into my ass. I gasped in shock. I couldn’t believe this. The dude just shoved his dick up my ass! He began to fuck me hard, pounding his cock into my shit hole. And you know what? I absolutely frigging loved it. Every thrust. Every push. Sean’s cock violated me, stretching my asshole to previously unimaginable girths. It hurt. It felt great. I screamed. I howled. I bawled. I absolutely loved it. And when he came, sending his semen deep inside of me, I welcomed the onslaught of his seed.

For a long time, we remain frozen, our bodies joined. Then Sean pulls out of me, and I feel suddenly empty. He removes my bindings, and I am free once more. I look at him and he looks at me. We don’t smile. We don’t kiss. We don’t embrace. For that’s not what this is about. We both have our unique needs and we need to have them met. He’s a sadist whose fantasies include racial domination, and he’s never before found anyone, woman or man, willing to indulge him. I’m his first. And he’s a first for me as well. I’ve never done this with a male before, let alone a white one. My partners in interracial dominance games were usually kinky women of the Asian, Latin or Caucasian persuasions. Most of the men were too uncomfortable to play with me. Not Sean, though. He was clearly a cut above the rest.

I take a shower, then leave his residence. When we see each other tomorrow, he’ll be the guy who’s in the system and I’ll be the dutiful Probation Officer who watches his every move. Tonight, though, we were something else. Just a man and a woman letting go of racial and gender issues, along with personal and professional boundaries and the issues of political correctness to indulge our most private needs. And you know what? It felt wonderful. The most liberated I’ve ever felt as a woman was when I was bound and completely subdued by a man’s power. Of my own free will, of course. What does that say about me? I don’t know, and to be honest, I don’t really care.

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