by Susan Sass
Leah nodded. ‘Yeah, he’s cool... Love black people... hate niggas! I agree with him, totally, so does Obama, it seems. Black people have gotta have a successful middle-class, before they can shake off the shadow of the past.’
I kissed her. ‘You’re dead right,’ I agreed.
Back to now...
Leah’s cute face stared up at me with a devotion that had to be experienced to be understood. The absolute focus she brought to our play was immense. She’d tied her shoulder-length hair back in a pony tail that really added to her submissive demeanour. I stroked her right cheek, smiled and then slapped it, hard, with a loud clap! She reeled a little, groaned with arousal and stared back at me. It wasn’t defiance in her eyes. It was her willing me to hurt her again.
‘Turn your other cheek, you fuckin slut!’ I barked.
She presented the left side of her face to me, her breath coming faster now. My hand shot out and slapped her face again, hard, with a loud crack! Her head spun sideways, a dazed but aroused glow in her eyes now.
‘Thank you, Sir,’ she sighed, leaving her lips parted.
I kissed her and she tongued me.
‘Love you,’ I whispered, nuzzling her ears.
She gripped my thighs and clung to them like a little girl. I stroked her back, the shiny black skin as soft as velvet. ‘I love you too, Sir,’ she said, considerable emotion in her voice.
‘Hurt me and love me...’ she repeated over and over.
I bent low and lifted her back to squatting on her red high-heels.
‘Hands on your head,’ I whispered. She assumed the position and I cupped her pendulous boobs, molding them to my fingers, scrunching them up and mauling them, then letting them flop back down again. I never got tired of Leah’s breasts, the weight of them, their erotic pear shapes, those saucer-sized areolas speckled brown around a pair of acorn-hard nipples. I loved the way they looked from all angles, especially from the sides. They formed a massively ripe curve that completed her voluptuous outline, in perfect symmetry with her pear-shaped booty. Her udders looked even better since she’d had both nipples pierced with big shiny steel rings. They had barbells on their undersides that tugged the nipples downwards. The rings matched the six she’d had fitted in her outer sex-lips, and the one through her clit-hood. The body-jewelry really suited her, completed her somehow. I was with her when she’d got the piercings done at a tattoo parlor and her cries of pleasurable-pain as the heavily inked woman tattooist needled her nipples and cunt became a part of our shared sexual experience. We often spoke about it during sex and we both sensed we were working towards using needles regularly, as part of our BDSM rituals.
I went to Leah’s closet, where she kept a vast array of sex toys and BDSM equipment. I rummaged through a lot of things and eventually selected a coil of soft white bondage rope. I wrapped it around my fist and had Leah sit on the edge of her big brass bed. She watched patiently as I looped the rope around the base of each of her udders and then took it around her back, neck and shoulders, securing her boobs in a pair of elaborate rope holders.
‘Oh, Sir, tit bondage makes me feel so fuckin horny,’ Leah said, looking down at my handiwork.
Her udders were bound really tight now, bulging out from their rope ‘brassiere.’ I coiled the rope through the steel ring in the leather collar and fastened the end with a tight knot. Imagine how her breasts jutted forward. I can tell you they looked like a couple of big artillery shells. I stood back and checked the tautness of the ropes and then had Leah stand up and join me in front of a full-length mirror. We were about the same size with her in four-inch heels and I gripped her wrists behind her and whispered: ‘Mm, they look good, don’t they?’
Leah gasped. ‘Wow, they do, Sir! They’re so distorted, I love the look of them like that,’ she replied.
I smoothed my hands over the two brown globes as she said it. Her nipples were as hard as bullets and I teased the rings about as we kissed. After the kiss, I whispered: ‘Ready for a little pain, you nasty whore?’
She sighed and said: ‘Yes, Sir, I’J totally ready.’
I could feel Leah’s randy heat and it intoxicated me. I kissed her again, pulling her lovely face sideways, one hand on her tits and the other finding her cunt as we tongued each other in a frenzy of lustful anticipation. Where would we be without kissing, huh? I jabbed my fingers inside her slit. She groaned ‘Mm!’ through her nose and it felt as if an egg had been broken inside her.
‘I so need to be fucked, Sir,’ she whispered.
I smiled. ‘All in good time,’ I said. ‘You need a lot of torture first, to get you up to maximum heat.’
‘You know my desires so well, Sir,’ she admitted.
I let her go and brought an antique chair over from the corner of the room and had Leah straddle it, facing the back of the chair. ‘Drape your breasts over the back of it,’ I told her. I adjusted her position and Leah jiggled her boobs about and soon they dangled just the way I wanted them. Imagine the scene, the wood pressing into her tits, hanging, but also being forced up by the chair’s back and the ropes. My friends, ripe and swollen Leah’s boobs certainly did look.
‘You’ll love the feel of this, you maso-slut,’ I told her.
Leah blinked her eyes open and she saw that I had a springy rattan cane in my hand. ‘That’ll make cry out in pain, Sir,’ she said, biting her bottom lip after saying it. ‘I want you to cry,’ I said; then added: ‘Your screams and cries will go with the music; opera and S&J go hand in hand so well, don’t they?’
Leah smiled. ‘Yes, Sir, they do.’
I stroked the tip of the cane over the contours of Leah’s tits, tracing the areolas and teasing the nipple rings with it. She groaned, ‘Mm!’ several times as I did it. We kissed again, in a hard way, her tongue flicking mine, me biting her lips and pulling them with my teeth.
‘Ah! Ah! Ah!’ she groaned.
I soon pulled away and secured Leah’s wrists, with a pair of police-style handcuffs, behind her back. Before I began the caning, I fixed a tight rubber blindfold over Leah’s eyes. I took a small sip of wine before commencing the discipline. The cane was very flexible and I swished it about in the air, allowing the tension to build up as Leah listened to it swishing and then thudding down on the bed several times.
‘Are you ready to receive the kiss of the bamboo?’ I asked, in a jokey, theatrical, voice.
‘Yes Sir,’ Leah replied, sweetly. ‘Discipline your devoted little bitch.’
I positioned myself to the side of the chair, where my pretty subject was posed at just the right angle. I brought the angle of the cane to just the right degree and then swished it down hard. It cleaved the skin on the upper slopes of Leah’s udders, just above her chocolate brown aureoles. (I was careful to avoid the nipple rings, of course).
‘Ugh!’ shrieked Leah, jumping up as the cane struck; then she said, ‘Thank you, Sir.’
The first couple of strokes warmed Leah’s masochism. I felt her pussy and when my fingers came out, they were literally dripping sex-juice. (Of course, she was obliged to suck them clean). Marks were forming on her breasts now, grooved lines where the cane had done its cruel work. By the tenth stroke, against the undersides of her tits, she screamed so loudly that I had to silence her with a black rubber ball-gag. For the remaining five strokes, all I could hear was a muffled animal moan each time I brought the cane down across her heaving chest.
I removed the gag and the blindfold. Big tears snaked down Leah’s cheeks. I wiped them away with my fingers and offered the salty moisture to her mouth. She sucked on my fingers like a baby, greedily, took them all the way in. Her breath came in gasps, through her nose. She trembled and her skin was layered with a thin film of sweat. Her battered tits heaved and swayed as we kissed and she shuddered when, after the kiss, I ran my fingers over the welts the cane had imprinted on her flawless skin. I cupped her boobs gently and swiveled the chair around so that she could see the marks of her love and devotion in a nearby mirror. ‘Th
e bite of Dionysius,’ I whispered, knowing she’d get the Classical reference; then I asked: ‘What do you think of my work?’
She stared at her fucked-up titties. ‘Love and pain, Sir, is a formidable combination,’ she said.
I suggested she kiss her breasts, in combination with me. It was a game we often played and it excited us both, equally. I pushed the right one up towards her lips. When the tip of it was close to her mouth, she pouted her enormous pink lips and dribbled saliva on it, a silvery eruption that coiled down. I leaned in and we circled our tongues together over the spit-washed nipple, exciting the heavy ring hanging from it, kissing the slime about between us, until Leah swallowed it. Then I let her breast settle back down again. Slowly, we repeated the game with her other breast, amidst a lot of sighing and groaning and sloshing. My prick was at the limits of its stiffness by now and I could feel it leaking pre-cum.
I lifted Leah up off the chair and had her get on the bed. I placed several plumped-up pillows under her curvaceous belly and laid her down on her knees. She was still hand-cuffed and her aspect thrilled me a lot. The sight of her silver ringed vagina, the lips all crinkly and moist, was as horny, visually, as it gets, and the puckered asshole above it seemed to be ‘winking’ at me in a most inviting way! I marveled at how her dark skin glinted in the low light and I reached out smoothed my fingers all down her back, scraping my nails until I reached her generous butt. I grabbed her ass in both my hands, pressing and mauling, before I worked three fingers into her pussy, feeling the moisture there and stabbing them in really deep. She howled with pleasure as I did it.
‘Ah! Ah! Ah!’
After a good hard frigging that lasted about a minute, I leaned in and spat on Leah’s asshole, whilst holding her ass cheeks open. ‘Oh, Sir, I so love being rimmed!’ she yelled. My tongue went in and burrowed itself in her sphincter, a frenzied compulsion as the musky flavor of her anus hit my taste buds. She groaned and mouthed strange dream-like obscenities that only she understood. I pulled back and spat again and again, using the saliva as anal-lube. Her compliant ass-ring soon parted and allowed two of my fingers all the way in up to the knuckles.
‘Oh! Oh! Oh!’ she shrieked.
When I was done butt-jabbing, I stripped and got on the bed behind Leah and pressed the head of my erection against her asshole. After a brief struggle and with a lot of ass-slapping and verbal cajoling, my cock slid in as if Leah’s asshole had been measured for its size and girth. As we had both been for a mutual STD check, and we weren’t having sex with others, at that time, we took to going bareback. The feeling of skin on skin, a big pink cock deep in a generous black asshole, is truly a thing of beauty and wonder.
‘Oh God, Sir,’ Leah moaned, ‘you could compete against any black man I’ve ever been with!’
I laughed. ‘You nasty slut,’ I said. ‘Bet you’ve had hundreds of black and white cocks, huh, you insatiable whore!’
She agreed: ‘Oh God yes, Sir, more than that, thousands of cocks, probably.’ (In fact, Leah had restricted herself to relatively few lovers in her thirty two years on earth, considering her high sex-drive. It was about twenty-five guys she’d told me; a league table made up of blacks, whites and Hispanics. She’d actually had far more sex with white girls at Yale than any of the campus jocks).
I rode Leah’s ass for ages, literally sitting astride her ass cheeks, clasping her thighs with mine, boring down into her sloshing hole, working her up into a blubbering wreck, teasing all the arousal I could out of her, going slow then fast, fast then slow, dancing from side to side, exciting every possible nerve ending and g-spot I could find in her rectum. Leah squealed and groaned continuously and danced with me; matching my pace and rhythm like all good dancers can. After about ten minutes of hard anal sex, I knew my time was near and I quickly pulled out of Leah’s gaping hole and quickly turned her on her back, straddling her shoulders and sitting on her udders. I jerked myself off and soon felt a little twinge in my balls. I shouted ‘Oh, you whore, take it, take it!’ and a spurt of semen jetted onto Leah’s outstretched tongue. Another gush iced her top lip. She shoved her mouth over the glans and began draining me of cum. (Let me tell you, friends, being sucked off by Leah was like being sperm-vacuumed!) I shoved my cock deep into her throat and felt more semen pour out of me. She gulped crudely as she swallowed it all. I took my slackening cock out after a while and wiped it slowly over her cute face.
‘Mm... Delicious, Sir,’ said Leah, looking up at me, licking her lips like a contended cat.
I crashed down on the bed, panting, exhausted momentarily and undid the cuffs on Leah’s wrists. She hugged me tight and I rested my head on her left breast and used it as a pillow. We whispered little litanies of love and intimacy the way you do when you are on a post-coital high. We drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
Leah stirred after a while and whispered, ‘Sir, I so need a drink after swallowing all your cum.’
Her meaning was clear. I got it right away, knowing the look in those sexy brown eyes. This intelligent beautiful black woman was way out there on the highly-sexed scale of things. So was I though, and that’s why we clicked. It worked perfectly.
I smiled and said, ‘You’re a sly little whore, aren’t you?’
Leah agreed that she was. I undid the ropes around her breasts and noticed the indentations the rope had made on her skin. She cupped her boobs to her, massaging the circulation back into them. They were numb after being tied up for so long. I lay on top of her and we kissed for a good long while before I stood her up and led her to the bathroom by the leash attached to her leather collar. Leah clacked after me, down a short corridor, on those ridiculously high-heeled shiny red shoes of hers.
We got to the bathroom. It was a big white-tiled room with an expensive roll-top porcelain bath at one end and a WC and basin at the other. I told Leah to get into the bath tub. I helped her over the side, being careful that she removed the high-heels first. She lay on her back and looked up at me, her eyes pleading with me to do something unspeakably nasty.
‘Play with yourself,’ I ordered her. ‘Be a total whore!’
‘Yes Sir,’ she said, ‘comes naturally to me, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, it does you nasty slut,’ I told her, watching the pink-nailed fingers of both her hands yank apart the six silver rings in her love lips, revealing the pink slit hidden within. Her fingers progressed to dusting her clit and stroked my prick which was coming back to life again. I marveled at the way Leah masturbated. It was complex finger dance of varying rhythms and angles. Her first two fingers parted and squeezed the silver ringed clit-hood between them; then she changed angles and circled above the clit, going faster and faster, gasping and grimacing as she worked herself up. Her eyes were closed and her teeth were bared and she emitted a series of little gasps and sighs. The arousal was palpable. I was mesmerized by it.
Leah let out a loud, ‘Oh yes!’ as an arc of my piss splashed her cunt and washed over her busy fingers. In seconds, she had a shattering orgasm, her entire body convulsing as I hosed her all over with a powerful golden jet. ‘Ah! Ah! Ah! Oh God, Oh God!’ she howled, reveling in the piss fountain, washing herself with it and drinking it as I filled her eager open mouth several times. She took my dripping cock in her mouth when my bladder had been emptied and sucked it as she still continued to convulse and spasm. I stroked her wet face and wiped the droplets on her pink lips. She kissed my fingers. I bent low and kissed her mouth, tasting urine on her tongue. It could’ve been champagne. Funny how the filthiest things are transmuted via the alchemy of love and sex into the most erotic moments you could ever imagine, isn't it?
‘I love you, Sir,’ Leah whispered.
‘It’s mutual,’ I told her.
‘That’s whetted my appetite for other things,’ she suggested, as I bathed with her, both of us in the tub, her first, me behind her.
Isn’t there an old proverb from ancient Greece, that goes something like? ‘Let a libidinous woman run free with Eros a
nd you will find yourself looking at your own reflected desires.’
I suddenly realised the truth of that wise observation.
I wanted Leah so much on hearing that.
‘We’ll have to see if we can break a few taboos then, won’t we?’ I suggested.
Leah nodded and hugged me close. We kissed and I whispered something to her. She jerked her head up and said, ‘Oh my God! I’d love to!’
Chapter 3
Several months went by and Leah got more and more perverse the further we explored our kinky fantasies. We were now totally in love and had agreed that there wasn’t much that was either too filthy, or perverse, for us to try together. The beast had been well and truly released from within Leah, of that I was certain. It was a pleasant realisation that such a beautiful ebony Goddess got so much orgasmic pleasure from our Fetish games. We urged each other on to new explorations, sometimes we were stunned by what we found.
Early September