by Zane
He took off his kimono and dropped it on the floor.
I hope he don’t expect me to pick up after him, too, she thought. That would be sadistic. Then she got a good look at him. Selena had to bite her lip to keep from whistling. He was a specimen, all right. A hunka hunka burning love, muscles rippling, with giant chest muscles, bulging biceps, and a flat belly with washboard abs, just like mama liked ’em!
And he was toting a cannon, all right, with two big dumdums hanging underneath.
Be damned if he hadn’t greased himself down, so with his shaven head he looked like a giant, chocolate replica of the Oscar statue, or one of them bucks on the cover of one of them Mandingo books.
For a moment she considered crossing out Ted and Margaret and keeping this one for herself. Business! Keep your mind on the business at hand, Selena dear!
Like a black panther stalking his prey, naked and glistening, Gaddys crawled on the bed until he was over her, supporting himself on his hands. He stared into her eyes for a while, fiercely. She stared back, hungrily. Then he kissed her, lightly, then hard, then light and hard again.
She did nothing at first and then she kissed back, hesitantly, clumsily, and then harder and with feeling, and then their tongues were darting, tangling, rubbing, and she was moaning and sighing and only half acting.
And then he was working down her body, alternating a kiss and a little nip, kiss and little nip, working on her neck, then down her chest to her breasts, where he nuzzled and kissed her nipples until they were rock hard. Then he was working down her stomach, down to between her legs, alternating a little nip and suck, nip and suck, and then he went to work on her in earnest with his tongue.
Experts had gone down on Selena; on a scale of one through ten she rated this job a one hundred and eleven. He nuzzled and lapped and kissed like he was eating a sweet, tender, ripe piece of fruit; like he savored the taste, now at her clit, now around her labia, now his tongue was inside her until jolts of pure sexual pleasure washed over her in wave after wave.
She felt her control slipping away! That would never do. It was time for the mind trick of Fuck but Not Fuck.
One moment she was lying on the bed, stretched out, moaning in real ecstasy as Gaddys performed expert cunnilingus, and the next she was outside herself, standing beside the bed, looking down on herself and Gaddys.
It was a trick she had learned in a monastery in Tibet, of out-of-body consciousness during intercourse, or Fuck but Not Fuck. It was coming in handy now, because Gaddys was a cunt-lapping freak. He stayed on the oral case for what seemed like hours until orgasms ripped her body like sheet lightning, like a string of 500-pound bombs dropped from a B-52, and she was flipping like a flag in a sexual hurricane.
Only when he had stopped did she rejoin her consciousness to her body, and still the residual afterglow of his love work was almost too much for her.
Oh, he was good!
“Ms. Epperson,” he cooed in her ear. “You have been totally forthright with me, haven’t you?”
“Yes. Yes, teacher, yes,” she gasped.
“You aren’t holding anything out on me, are you? No secrets?”
Oh, the man’s antennae for danger was marvelous. He could sense something was wrong about her. And what a great time to get a woman to drop a dime on herself. Fucking is the best truth serum there is. If she hadn’t pulled her Tibetan mind trick, she would have confessed to the Brinks job if he’d wanted her to.
“Please, teacher, don’t torment me this way,” she said with a little catch in her voice. “I could never lie to you.”
“Good. Good, my pupil,” he whispered, stroking her hair.
It was time to flip the script on cuzz. No telling what other tricks he might have up his sleeve. She didn’t have his mind right yet.
She breathed deeply, centered herself, and commenced Operation Go Down On Moses!
Part VI
“Oh, master!” Selena cried, ripping her arms loose of the ribbons and sitting up.
“Teacher, Ms. Epperson,” he said
“Teacher, master, whatever you say!” she cried, ripping the ribbons off her ankles and rolling on top of him. “Oh, you have given me joy and wisdom as I have never known, for—as you must suspect now—though I have made love to men, I have been…frigid!”
“I had suspected as much but—”
“I must—I will repay you! You must let me, or I shall run out of this house and throw myself into the river or in front of a car! I don’t want to live anymore if I can’t repay you to the fullest, right now!”
“This is highly irregular,” he said, getting a little uneasy.
She had to take him down now before he got wise!
In a cave deep in the Arizona desert was found an ancient book, written by the courtesans of the harem of the rulers of ancient Atlantis, that described methods of oral sex so powerful that they actually caused the destruction and sinking of that continent.
Anyway, that’s what Selena sometimes told people when she was putting them on. Actually, she had just sucked a whole lot of dick, so she had the science down cold.
Hungrily, desperately, she went down on Gaddys, sucking now hard, now soft, licking at it like it was candy, rolling it, running her tongue around his balls, up and down the bottom of the shaft, and around the head, where it gets so so good to a motherfucker!
At first Gaddys sat up on his elbows and watched her, amused. After all, he’d had many a symphony played on his meat flute, and it took a virtuoso to play the tune that blew him away.
Little did he know, even as he smirked, that his instrument was in the hands—mouth—of the John Coltrane of fellatio!
Slowly the smug look faded, and then he started to breathe a little harder, and then he lay back, and soon he was prone, head grinding into the pillow, eyes shut tight, writhing and groaning and calling on the Lord one minute and his momma the next, and Jesus one time and cussing the next, and before he knew it he had lost all his cool.
Selena put him through some changes, playing his ass like a yo-yo, going on until he was about to come and then stopping and starting all over again and stopping until he was begging for mercy, pleading for her to stop and then not stop, to take him to climax or to shoot him and put him out of his misery!
When it had gone on for what seemed like forever, and when he was screaming like Little Richard, she stuck her middle finger up his ass and the orgasm he had almost blew her head off.
She swallowed his cum, but she needn’t have. That little move, which was usually the pièce de résistance and broke ’em all the way down, was wasted ’cuz he didn’t see it. He was O-U-T, out! Unconcho! He lay as if dead, with his eyes rolled up in his head, breathing shallowly.
“Was I all right?” she asked him.
She was answered by deep jagged snores.
She snickered. “Guess so.”
Part VII
Now will the gander fly the coop, or will he hang around to make love with the little brown goose?
It was later that evening. Selena was at home in her meditation room doing a mental recap.
She had pierced William G. Gaddys’ defenses, passed herself off as an innocent ingénue, fresh meat just waiting to be turned out, a tender young morsel of fruit to be plucked from the vine—and probably chewed up and spit out later, when all the juice, the spirit, had been sucked out, when she was turned out, strung out, and used up.
That was the brutal game Gaddys’ kind always played. They hated women. The goal was always to hurt and humiliate them in the end.
He’d have never let a hardened veteran of the sex wars like Selena anywhere near him had he but known.
But he hadn’t known. She too was a hunter. She too could use camouflage and deception.
His game was tight. Her game was tighter.
Still, was her game tight enough? He was supposed to be leaving for D.C. tomorrow. Would he put the trip on hold?
It all depended on that blowjob. It had been a master blow
job, one of her very best. If it had been a pizza it would have had fifty kinds of cheese, seventy-five kinds of meat, been big as a barn door, and weighed a ton. A 360-degree, ’round-the-world-and-I’m-goin’-again blowjob. No brag. Just fact.
Would ol’ swingin’ dick want some more o’ dat?
Early the next morning he called. Could they get together. Probably wanted to get him a taste.
The nerve!
“Naw, teacher, I really can’t,” she whined.
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. He was thinking. “That’s fine. That’s fine,” he said brusquely.
“Maybe next Tuesday?” she suggested.
“Not next Tuesday, Ms. Epperson. You know our arrangements. I will call you,” he said curtly and then he hung up.
I got your next Tuesday, she thought.
He called back ten minutes later.
“Aww, teacher, really I can’t today. I got papers to mark and I gotta clean up my apartment and my hair is really a mess and I smell like a pig.”
He hung up this time without saying anything. Was that it?
He called again five minutes later. Desperation was in his voice. He didn’t care how she looked or smelled or what she had to do. Could he please maybe just come over just a little while, pretty please?
“Naw, Mr. Gaddys. I got to do my nails and I don’t feel good and I got a headache.”
There was shock in his voice. She hadn’t called him teacher. His power was slipping. Now, not only his libido was on the line, but also his ego.
Maybe a man can tough it out if you got him by the balls, but a blow to his ego he can’t stand—if’n he be a man!
He hung up. Then he called right back. She said no. Then he hung up again.
He called twenty times in a row. She didn’t even answer the phone. The twenty-first time, she picked up the receiver.
He had lost all his nuts. He said “please” more times than James Brown. She wished she could have seen his face. He promised her the stars and the moon. The sun. He said he would take her to the Ebony Fashion Fair and the Alvin Ailey Ballet on Super Bowl Sunday.
That one almost got her. Givin’ up the Super Bowl! But she had to remember the mission. This was bigger than her. Bigger than him. It was for the sexual health of society that she was working now.
She yawned and hung up on him.
He didn’t call again.
Was it over? Would he give up? Would he leave town with his tail between his legs, call somebody else, or get a copy of Black Tail magazine, go whack off in the john, and call it a day?
This was the tough part. Knowing how to give ol’ dick a little line, like a fisherman trying to reel in a really big one.
I would have made a good fisherman, she thought. Will this be the big one that got away that I’ll be telling my sistahgals about in my old age?
She did her nails and her toes and she thought about something else.
Fifteen minutes and thirty seconds later her door intercom buzzed.
Damn! It’s a forty-five-minute drive in light traffic, she thought. Dawg must have broken the speed limit and ran every red light on the way over.
Sometimes I scare myself.
“Yes?” she said into the intercom as though she hadn’t the slightest idea of who it could be.
A flood of cryin’, babblin’, and blubberin’ came over the intercom, the sounds of a man with his jones coming down, the sounds of a brotha havin’ a seizure.
She let him go on a while and finally buzzed him up.
She waited real good and long before she opened her front door.
When she did, she found Gaddys kneeling in the doorway, wearing his shorts and a T-shirt, and shoes with no socks (hadn’t even taken time to dress). He was totally out of it.
Selena sighed, like she was exasperated but too soft-hearted to make him suffer anymore.
All right, she thought. Time to switch from Ms. Epperson, mild-mannered potential sex slave, to Selena, Dominatrix of Steel.
She reached out, took him gently by the nose with her thumb and forefinger, and pulled him inside.
Part VIII
“Repeat after me, Billy,” Selena said. “We have been a very bad boy.”
“We have been a very bad boy,” William G. Gaddys, now “Billy,” repeated.
He was on his knees, naked but for a dog collar. His arms were bound behind his back with black leather. Selena had offered to use something more comfortable, say silk scarves, but Gaddys had insisted on ropes or leather.
He was almost completely housebroken. Just a little more work and she would get his mind right.
“We have been a liar and a hypocrite,” she said. “We have hurt and abused people, but above all, women.”
“We have been a liar and a hypocrite, we have hurt and abused people, but above all, women,” he repeated.
“We have been selfish. A taker and a user, and not a sharer,” she said. “But now we are going to learn better.”
He repeated what she said, and looked at her expectantly, hungrily.
Selena was wearing a white terry cloth robe and house slippers. She had considered going the whole leather bitch routine, but she was going to perform some delicate brain surgery here. Too much domination and he would be a useless drone, ready to be abused by anybody, and that wouldn’t do anybody any good.
She knew the masters’ dirty little secret: that inside each master was a slave!
And she knew an even greater secret: that no slave stays a slave but turns the table on the master at the first opportunity.
It therefore does no good to merely flip the script and make the master a slave, since, sooner or later, the script will be flipped again. The goal is to break up the whole master/ slave matrix.
Unless of course they are fully informed, voluntarily participating, consenting adults, in which case that’s their bidness!
“We are going to learn our lesson today, Billy,” Selena said. “We have been bad. We are going to learn and afterward we are going to be better and we are not going to do bad ever again. Now assume the position.”
Gaddys eagerly turned around and bent over, exposing his glistening, naked, muscular buttocks. Selena allowed herself a quick pinch and a couple of feels of the firm juicy rump roast, and then raised her hand to give him a good whack.
“No, no!” Gaddys said. “Rougher.”
Sometimes the patient knew best, Dr. Selena thought. She went into the bedroom and came out with a large wooden hairbrush.
“No no!” Gaddys said. “Rougher! Rougher! Really rough!’
“Dis boy in need of some big-time healin’,” Selena muttered under her breath.
She got a large, heavy, long, black, plaited leather whip.
“No! No! Really rough!”
She dropped the whip and “thunk” on it for a minute. Then she remembered an heirloom, way down deep in a trunk in her closet; a big, bodacious, leather razor strop that had belonged to her granddaddy!
“Yeah! Yeah! Now we strokin’!” Gaddys giggled when he saw the big ol’ thang in her hand.
I’m gonna have to charge Ted and Margaret extra for this one and I’m gonna need a heating pad for this arm when we through, she thought. She rotated her arm a few times to loosen up, then thought of some suitable spank music.
She didn’t have to think long. She found a CD of a live, forty-five-minute version of “Lickin’ Stick” by James “Butane” Brown, the Godfather of Soul (and Hardest Working Man in Show Bidness), and fired it up on the box.
She snapped the strop. At just the sound of each snap, Gaddys jumped and moaned.
“Don’t hold back, give it to me,” he begged.
Selena let him have a taste of it. Gaddys jumped and said, “Again.”
Selena laid the razor strop hard across his glistening, quivering butt like an ol’-time Loosiana field hand. He jumped. “Again! Harder! Bitch!”
At that, she let herself go, raining blows, snaps, and cracks across his as
s. She was an expert. The idea, after all, is not to flay the victim alive but to, as Gaddys said, “walk that fine line between pain and pleasure.”
She never broke the skin on his butt, though she did raise some nasty welts. Selena whipped him until she was hot and sweaty. With each blow his dick got harder and harder. Gaddys screamed and wriggled with delight with each blow, more and more.
On and on it went, until her arm felt like lead and she was panting and sweat was running down and she was getting more than a little turned on herself.
Finally, Gaddys screamed and fell over. Cum spurted all over the carpet. He lay there like he was dead.
Thank God, Selena thought as she collapsed exhausted on a couch. I don’t think I could have laid one more on him.
They both were silent. Breathing hard for a long while.
Damn, if I wasn’t a righteous black woman I could get to like summa dis, Serena thought. I must use this power only for good. Wonder if bruhman got a cigarette on him?
Finally it was Gaddys who spoke.
“I’m sorry, Mommy,” he whined.
“I’m not your mommy, William,” Selena said. The script was all the way flipped, but she couldn’t leave him like a turtle, helpless and on his back with his feet waving in the air.
“I’m yours to do anything you want with,” he whispered.
She had taken him all the way down, now she had to bring him up.
“You’ve done a lot of bad things. Hurt a lot of people, William. And you’re going to have to atone for that and make it up to them. That’s all I want you to do for me.”
She started to get up to untie him. Gaddys got up first, crawled over to her on his knees, and put his head between her legs.
“I will. But first I want to do more,” he said, beginning to flick his tongue between her thighs.
“Actually, William, that’s all you have to do,” she said.
He kept licking and kissing, higher now.
“Really, William. That’s all you have to do,” Selena said. She was surprised to find she was getting turned on.
He had his mouth on her cunt, licking and kissing her clit, her labia, all around, nuzzling her hair.