AfroerotiK

Erotic provocateur, racially-influenced humanist, relentless champion for the oppressed, and facilitator for social change, Scottie Lowe is the brain child, creative genius and the blood, sweat, and tears behind AfroerotiK. Intended to be part academic, part educational, and part sensual, she, yes SHE gave birth to the website to provide people of African descent a place to escape the narrow-mined, stereotypical, limiting and oft-times degrading beliefs that abound about our sexuality. No, not all Black men are driven by lust by white flesh or to create babies and walk away. No, not all Black women are promiscuous welfare queens. And as hard as it may be to believe, no, not all gay Black men are feminine, down low, or HIV positive. Scottie is putting everything on the table to discuss, debate, and dismantle stereotypes in a healthy exchange of ideas. She hopes to provide a more holistic, informed, and enlightened discussion of Black sexuality and dreams of helping couples be more open, honest, and adventurous in their relationships.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

The Proposition of a Lifetime

The beauty of the D/s world is that it pushes both Domme and sub to explore their limits, to see just how far they could go. Because I’m a Domme and quite comfortable with myself and my identity as such, it’s easy for me to embrace new opportunities, to see how I might be able to taste new experiences and challenge myself to go further because I know my core, I know the center to which I will return if things don’t work out, is solid.

You don’t have that luxury. Your identity as a sub is still unstable; you are still uncomfortable in your own submissive skin. You are not comfortable with the concept that a real man is strong and dominant and that if you willingly and consciously choose to be submissive, you are not deserving of the honor of being called a man. You are not what you’ve been socialized to be; and giving up that concept can be pretty scary when faced with the reality. You aren’t a man. You aren’t assertive, aggressive, or domineering, you don’t have it in you. You pretend to be in control, you play the role, but inside, you know the truth. You come with the equipment of a man yet you do not possess the inherent strength and character to be a real man. You aren’t a woman for a woman is to be revered and honored. A real woman is holy and sacred and beautiful. You are “other”. You are a lowly submissive swine. You are something to be despised, used, mistreated, and abused. You are something whose very existence is an anomaly. You are ashamed of your penis, it’s small size, and of its inability to simultaneously deliver pain and pleasure the way a real man can.

If you were to belong to me, to be my possession and my pet, imagine the possibilities. Imagine if I were to control your desires, your cravings, to transform you into the depraved, perverted, filthy, vile thing of your dreams, to allow you the opportunity to express and live your most warped fantasies. What would your life be like if I owned you like an object, if I had control of your soul? What if you knew you had the honor of belonging to me in a way that no one else could? Imagine being loved by me and despised by me at the same time. Imagine for a brief moment that your entire world revolves around your worship of me and my ability to release you from the confines of being a man and becoming a dirty, insatiable, whore whose only limits are defined by me.

If you were to sign your life over to me, to relinquish your rights as a human being and become my possession, your life would be forever altered. Let’s not pretend here that we are talking about slavery for this would be completely voluntary on your part. You could continue to go through your daily activities, appearing normal to your co-workers and the hoards of nameless strangers you encounter, but your soul would belong to me. Your every waking thought would be filled with images of me, of how I know your kinkiest fantasies and desires and my willingness and ability to make those dreams reality. Our synergy, our balance comes from my desire to see you debased and humiliated in ways that would make most people’s stomachs turn, that would shock and horrify even the most dark and disturbed minds. You long to have no limits, you long to be transformed into a sub-human sexual, feral animal and you know that I can take you there.

Your very body, mind and soul would belong to me. I would take possession of your nipples, torturing and twisting them until you screamed out in pain. The searing ache of having your tits pierced and weighted for my amusement would register in your brain as pleasure. In our world, pain would become your bliss, your state of euphoria. I would deliver crushing blows to your useless nuts, that I would derive enjoyment from seeing you doubled over, on the verge of consciousness, your pain connecting us as lovers, however non-traditionally defined that may be. It would all be worth it I’m sure. You would endure tremendous pain to be able to feel my warm breath whispering in your ear, telling you that you were a good boy, that you made me proud. Your reward would be my soft hand, wrapped around your throat, choking you, my spit dripping from your face, depriving you of air and toying with your life. What a strange sensation that would be, to have your cock throbbing and hard while you feel yourself passing out, while your mind struggles to stay alive but you surrender your will to me, knowing that I will not let you die. Your fight or flight reflex completely abated in deference to the ecstasy you derive from knowing that your life is literally in my hands. Will you beg and plead for more while I reign down blow after stinging blow on your ass with my whip, making your flesh searing hot from the pain? What sort of thing experiences delight from having their faced slapped, feels arousal when their mouth filled with my slimy green snot and phlegm, gets hard from eating their own puke after being forcefully face fucked and gagged? Certainly not a human being, and certainly not a man.

Your pussy would be in a constant state of arousal under my control and direction. Giving up the pretense of being a man would allow you to accept that your cunt is insatiable and slutty, the center of your sexual being, your source for stimulation. Kept in constant chastity, the only time you would be allowed to orgasm would be through stimulation of your prostate. How many months do you think it would take for you to be able to accomplish that, your nuts swollen, tender, and sore, desperate for release. I’d have to completely re-wire your brain until your asshole got swollen and wet like a real pussy when you were aroused, until you lived to feel your hole stuffed with the hard, pounding cocks of real men. You’d have no choice but to give up the pretense of only wanting dildos and strapons in your fuck hole. Released and free to be who you are meant to be, you’d have to acknowledge that your cravings for real, hot, hard, thick, long dicks pounding you is real and undeniable. Being a cum whore is your natural state of being and it would be up to me to protect you as my pet and possession from harm or disease. It would be at my discretion to provide you with your source of men who will satiate your thirst for cum in your mouth and pussy. Needing to please me, however, knowing I derive pleasure from seeing you used and fucked like a cheap slut, you would never get enough. The minute one filthy dick would be pulled from your gaping, used hole, you would be screaming for another to replace it, knowing that seeing you get fucked makes my real pussy wet and swollen with arousal.

To earn the honor of being allowed to pleasure my body must be an intimidating and scary thought. I have to think that you would count the days until I get my period, knowing that your mouth will be my pad, your tongue my tampon, tasting my blood, treasuring it, licking the soft, wet folds of my pussy and longing for the sweet release of my cum in the process. Oh the torture of having your mouth so near my divine center, tasting my hot, salty piss, never knowing if I’m going to gift you with the opportunity to have my pussy lowered to your face, smothering you, suffocating you with the sweetness of my pussy, feeling the full weight of my body on your face, smelling the musky scent of my ass. On those special and rare occasions when I am pleasured by a real man, to know that you will be able to service me by licking my pussy and asshole clean, to feel my explosive cum flavored farts, tinged with flecks of feces, after my body has been satisfied and pleasured will surely be a privilege. Tasting the mixture of cum and sweat from REAL love making, knowing that you will never again in life, as long as you belong to me, feel the sensation of penetrating a woman again. Feeling my hardened black nipples in your mouth as you suckle them while you call me Mommy and know that I am your primary care giver and owner must be a delight incomprehensible to your feeble mind.

Belonging to me, being my possession, praying at the altar of my asshole would mean that my shit would become your sacrament, your holy communion. You long to feel that connection, that intimacy, that gift of servitude and submission, the ultimate act of degradation. Only you don’t see it as humiliating, do you? You see it as your gift to me, our connection and bond cemented by the fact that you CRAVE my shit in your mouth, in your body, as symbolic of your life being mine. You are shit. You are nothing more than a worthless, pathetic piece of shit and having my shit in you makes you somehow more worthy, more validated. Your arousal is perversely tied to my shit. On your hands and knees, getting savagely fucked by my strapon, with your head in the toilet filled with my foul-smelling turds, you can only breathe in their toxic fumes and feel pangs of jealousy and envy that you were not allowed to be my toilet, crying out in pleasure as you feel me pound your asshole and you can see the contents of my bowels mere inches from your face, intoxicated by the stench, salivating and distraught at the sight of my brown gifts being flushed away.

Know, dear one, that if you did belong to me, I would treat you as my perverted little plaything with great pleasure. Your little clit would get hard every time I told you that I was going to prepare you to get fucked, bending you over and filling you colon with water, only to have you go outside and evacuate your intestines in the backyard like some sort of animal. Sliding that nozzle in, filling you with water, caressing your balls gently while I tell you what a nasty piece of trash you are, making you moan in pleasure as I allow the water to fill you to capacity, the cramps blinding you with pain and discomfort, the pleasure unspeakable as you release the disgusting contents of your rectum, shit splattering all down your legs, your face in my hands as I tell you how wet it makes my pussy to see you do something so foul and degrading for me.

Transformed, your entire being would be meant to ensure that I was as pampered, catered to, and indulged with any and every nicety life has to offer. Truly living to serve me, laying at my feet, fulfilling my every whim, wish, and desire. Every chore, every errand and task, you would complete with joy, knowing it might make me happy, that it might bring a smile to my face. Your role as the breadwinner and primary provider for our little “family” would be to give all of your earnings and savings over to me. I would make the financial decisions, choosing which investments would be most fruitful and provide me with the most benefit. Your allowance would be minimal at best, allowing you to exist but certainly not experience luxuries. Your wallet is tied to your manhood, and being less than a man, you would gladly hand over your credit, your cash flow, and your potential earnings so that I might be your queen. You will pay me to own you, to allow you to be the nasty, putrid, degenerate you long to be, that lurks under the surface of your mediocre existence now, desperate to be set free.

For me, my ultimate arousal will be in seeing your uncontrollable tears as I threaten to release you from my control, to send you back out into the world, un-collared and un-owned, to fend for yourself. Your tortured pleas, desperate and pathetic, begging me to keep you, use you, degrade and humiliate you in ways beyond anything you’ve already endured will be sweet music to my ears. I might just tease you with empty threats to see how far you would go for me or I might make good on my word and dispose of you like used toilet paper. I get aroused at the idea of seeing another submissive brought in, paraded in front of you, your replacement, so that you can suffer the insecurity and low self-esteem of knowing that another will be gifted with the opportunity to perform for me. My twisted and perverse pleasure comes from knowing that I could make you so depressed, so despondent at the thought of being cast aside, that you would be reduced to a whimpering, whining, shell of a human being. Knowing that I have that much control over another person makes my fucking pussy unbelievably wet.

In public, you would be my companion and friend, behind closed doors, you would assume your true role as my servant, slut, and plaything. You don’t think you are deserving of belonging to me. You are afraid that you will have to completely redefine yourself and your worldview if you were to belong to me. It terrifies you more to think of what might be than to remain alone and unfulfilled, masturbating to fantasies that could become a reality if you were to only let yourself experience letting go of the pretense of being a real man.

Copyright 2009 AfroerotiK

7 comments:

AfroerotiK said...

Lee,

It must really suck to be you. You are inferior to Black men in every way imaginable: in stature, masculinity, and sexual prowess. But you still have that arrogant, false sense of superiority that white men have that makes you behave like an asshole. You long to be degraded and humiliated for your race, to be forced to worship black men but don't know how to reconcile it with your racist beliefs. You want a Black woman to "force" you to be the faggot slut you long to be, to make you perform unthinkable acts on Black men so you can rationalize in your mind that had no control. You know you can never satisfy a woman, you know the only pleasure you can ever give a woman is in how nasty you can perform for her. You lust after Black women because you see us as hypersexual savages and it fucks with you to no end to contemplate that we might actually be superior to you. In fact, you can't wrap your mind around that concept at all because you believe Blacks to be ignorant and lazy and inferior. But oh, when your little cock gets . . . aroused, I won't say hard because it doesn't really every get stiff, all you can fantasize about is Black flesh. You wanna get fucked and used in every way imaginable.

When you go to work however, when you are hanging out with your buds and they are telling racist jokes and calling Black people niggers, you have to laugh along, you have to tell racist jokes right along with them. You voted for McCain because you say that you are fiscally conservative but the real reason you voted for him is because you are racist. You hate Black men. That's really fucked up because you want to be a Black man. You long to have a big, powerful dick that makes women scream, you dream about having a beautiful brown body that makes white women go crazy. You would give anything to be athletic and strong. In your sick and twisted little warped mind, you think that's all Black men are good for. You see them as drug dealing, barely literate, unemployed rappers. It must be confusing to lust after them and hate them at the same time.

That's why you contacted me, isn't it? You see my obvious intellectual superiority, my unapologetic pride and pleasure in dominating pathetic little white boys. That's why you sent me a message claiming to love the concept of being dominated by a Black woman but then you had a change of heart. That little voice in your head that fucks with you told you that you should be outraged at a Black women claiming her superiority. That racist little devil on your shoulder told you that you should be ashamed of yourself for wanting to do unspeakable and disgusting things for a Black person. It's okay sweetness, I understand. I understand you all too well. Right now, you feel anger, frustration, rage, and arousal. You wish you were man enough to dominate me but you know you can't. What's worse, you know everything I've said is 100% correct. It pisses you off but you're going to jerk off your useless little cock to these very words over and over again. It will only be after you cum that the shame will set in again and you will return to being the arrogant, sniveling, bitchy little wuss you normally are.

Unknown said...

My initial response when i read this weeks ago was to type "F--- U!"

However, i decided to hold off and let what you wrote sink in.

You got a lot right. What I didn't expect was to cry as hard as I did. This made me hurt physically. When someone writes something like this to you, it can be devastating.

Unknown said...

My original message got cut off.

You have an extraordinary ability to push buttons, creating often conflicting sensations such as arousal and anguish.

You are very adept at unearthing things hidden deep within one's psyche, while planting other things not there before (often, for your own amusement.)

BTW, is it coincidental or ironic that the word verification code for this post is "gism."

Many things you wrote I've discovered, are true, though I tried to deny. However, I DO NOT see black women as "hypersexual savages," and I did not vote for McCain.

I see black women as God's greatest creation, deserving admiration and respect, which I have shown you.

I do not know what inspired you to write this letter to me, but as painful as it was to read and absorb, I think, ultimately, I will be the better for it (though I doubt that was your intention.)

Unknown said...

Fuck this bullshit. I must have been outta my mind when I posted those weak suck responses.

Jerk off to what you wrote? Please. Only in your fantasy. I read your shit and went and fucked my girlfriend like a real man. And she loved it!

She may not have one of those big black juicy 12-inch taking all night long pussies like you got, but she was plenty satisfied by me.

Tonight, we'll read your little letter together, laugh, and then fuck our brains out.

AfroerotiK said...

Are you on medication? Clearly, you are mentally unstable.

Unknown said...

lets get married scottie!

yeboevals said...

Reading the Proposition... really leaves my mind in turmoil. However i am really wondering about how much You mean in reality, however i must agree that You would have no problem in enslaving me. Even if my reason for submitting in the start was to receive a mental rush from Your evil and cruel actions against me, especially that You thrive on the complete control and suffering of another persen (me?).
I am sure that after a while in such a position it would appear as a struggle, but given Your talents to dominate and press the right buttons i am sure a pride to enhance Your life would emenate. A combination of addiction and need to obey would make life tolerable.

But i really wonder why Your words have such profound effect on me as i read it, that my breath is catching, my fingers actually trembling and a nervous feeling is spreading throughout all my limbs.
Your superiority and power hits me in my gut. A true feeling of subsurvenience OMG.
john evals