White men are Pathetic!

White men are little-dick losers, not real men. Real men can satisfy a woman. Real men can make a woman scream in pleasure an in pain. Real men have big, long, thick, hard cocks, that hang low between their strong, muscular thighs, that they can thrust into hungry wet horny pussies, real men have powerful asses that drive their huge manhood in places that white men’s dicks could never touch. White men have little flat asses, diseased looking skin, pathetic cocks, white men have lips only a snake would want to kiss, and they have defective sperm, only reproducing deviants and monsters, or worse, average, boring, plain, typical losers.

White men habitually crave being used like toilets, beaten like slaves, whipped until their pale flesh is blue and red and green with bruises, welts bleeding, flesh ripped. Pain is pleasure to white men. White men desire being fucked savagely and brutally like little bitches, over and over, potent sperm dripping from their gaped ass cunts, their vocal cords sore from their faces being fucked like a real pussy. White men fantasize day and night about being relentlessly pounded without regard for pain or pleasure, by men who treat them like they truly are, lowly, inferior, worthless trash. Fucking White men!

White men are pathetic little sissy faggots. Well, at least that is what they proclaim themselves to be. White men dress up in frilly pink panties, stockings, heels and makeup, white men create complex personas to pretend to be women all to cover up the fact that they are really just faggots who crave being fucked in their insatiable white male assholes. White men love, love, love pretending to be a woman, claiming to be a woman trapped in a man’s body. But white men aren’t real women. Real women suffer the effects of misogyny, sexism, and patriarchy, real women are victims of a society that treats them like second class citizens.

White men: arrogant, privileged, entitled, oblivious, incompetent, petty white men, with all the benefits and perks of being white men, carry alllll those privileges out in the real world long after the cum painted on their face from the glory hole dries up. White men dress up in their frilly girly slutty outfits and prance around and pay 20-year-old Black college students for sex and then white men put on their regular clothes and go out and continue to be their same old evil, lying, perverted white man selves, white men who are committed to defending any and every institution that perpetuates the lie that white men are superior. White men don’t really think they are women when they dress up, when they put on makeup and heels and fuck their slutty cunts with huge dildos. No, white men PRETEND to be women so they can disconnect from the reality that they are men who crave getting fucked by other men, preferably men with big, hard, thick, engorged Black dicks whose measurements are in the double digits. Isn’t that pathetic?

White men CRAVE humiliation, degradation, and shame . . . all in a manipulative game that benefits them. White men, submissive white men don’t really believe they are inferior. No, no, that’s all an act. Submissive white men crave suffering because it actually benefits them. White men seek out the sickest, most perverted, most depraved forms of sexual expression, nothing is too filthy, nothing is too dark, nothing is too taboo. Nothing. Oh, they will deny it until they are blue in the face.

White men are invested in perpetuating the lie that their marriages are vanilla, they wives are frigid, and that they only masturbate in a closet late at night when their wives are asleep. But that’s all lies. White men LOVE to proclaim that they have no experience, it’s their default lie. They’ve never sucked a dick. Well, one time, but they were forced to do it. Well, there was that time when they were drunk, in college but that was it. The reality is, white men will have cum dripping from their freshly fucked asshole while they tell you that they have only ever dreamed about having sex with a Black man, and it's only been for the last couple of years. ALL LIES. White men will tell you how vanilla and innocent and inexperienced they are when the truth is, they are addicted to sexual gratification and will do anything and everything to get to the next nut.

In fact, the more hurtful, the more destructive and manipulative white men can be, the more they can destroy something beautiful, the more arousing the scenario is for them. Without conscience or remorse, without a soul, without integrity or shame, white men feed off of darkness and evil, it’s their driving force and motivation. White men say they believe in Black superiority for as long as they are talking to a Black person, when, in fact, white men get off on having sex with Black people because they believe Blacks to be inferior animals, beasts of burden with savage sexuality, white men equate Black people to animals like dogs, they equate sex with a Black person as something dangerous and nasty because they see Black people as dumb slaves.

If anyone is a sexual savage, it is the white men who cheat, lie, and live a covert life of homosexuality and perverted sexual deviance. If anyone is a sexual savage it is the white men who regularly molest, abuse, rape, torture, kill with impunity, who get away with all manner of crimes because they are the beneficiaries of a society that covers up the true nature and reality of white men.

White men are transparent. Their only motivation, their only objective, aim, or goal in life, and death, is to exploit, use, manipulate, annihilate, and to hurt as many people of color as they can along the way to obscene, incalculable power and wealth. Even the poorest, dumbest white schmuck who is a victim of political posturing by rich, dumb white schmucks believes that white men are entitled to wealth and power just because they possess pasty skin and little dicks. There is no nuance to white men. Self-centered, greedy, devoid of empathy or altruism, white men have one mode, self-preservation at the expense of everyone different than them. If there is a way to get rich and exploit and hurt others, white men have mastered it. There is only one play in the white man’s book: create war, steal resources, destroy people’s lives, and make a profit all while being a sexual deviant. And then they demand free sexual gratification from women.

White men are habitual liars and cheaters. It’s so true, white men are the masters of cheating. Cheating in college, cheating at their taxes, cheating in business, cheating in marriage goes without saying, there isn’t a married white man alive who honors his vows and who is upstanding and honest, everything white men acquire is through deceptive, criminal, and hurtful measures. There is no such thing as an honest white man. White men are not the moral, upstanding virtuous white men depicted on TV, white men’s first nature is to lie, to defend their lies, to double, triple, and quadruple down on their lies, and then, in typical white flair, white men act offended and indignant if someone questions their lies, when they know they are lying.

But that’s not what makes white men pathetic. What makes white men unquestionably pathetic is the fact that they believe their own lies. White men know the truth. And delusionally, white men have convinced themselves that they are truly superior when they know that they are stole, grifted, murdered, and manipulated to get everything that they have. White men know that their identity is a sham, that they are nothing, that their status, their position, their pretense of superiority is all a farce and yet somehow, they have convinced themselves that they are the architects of all that is good and true in the world and the reality is, they are the imitators, thieves, they are the bargain basement knock offs of the original Hue mans, the original Black Gods and Goddesses.

White men are Pathetic!

It's been a while since I recorded an audio.  This one is outstanding.  Sit back, relax, and stroke away as you listen to my sweet, sensual voice tell you what a fucking loser you are.  

It's 22 minutes long.  

It's only $20.  

Cashapp $ScottieLowe

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Sample text:

White men have little flat asses, diseased looking skin, pathetic cocks, white men have lips only a snake would want to kiss and they have defective sperm, only reproducing deviants and monsters, or worse, average, boring, plain, typical losers.  White men habitually crave being used like toilets, beaten like slaves, whipped until their pale flesh is blue and read and green with bruises, welts bleeding, flesh ripped.  Pain is pleasure to white men.  White men desire being fucked savagely and brutally like little bitches, over and over, potent sperm dripping from their gaped ass cunts, their vocal cords sore from their faces being fucked like a real pussy.  

"Reprogram me not to be racist."

Daily, I get some form a communication from white men who ask me to reprogram them to be a sissy/to crave Black dick/not to be racist.  Apparently, white manhood is so deeply entrenched into them, they need guidance and instruction from a Black woman to become a faggot sissy Jack of Spades (NOT my terminology, I would never denigrate Black men that way).

Listen up, racist white assholes.  No, I absolutely will not help reprogram you not to be racist.  You want me to “retrain” you not to be a racist asshole but that is clearly not possible because you are conflating your sexual fantasies with being a decent human being.  Why do you need to be retrained?  Were you indoctrinated in secret whiteness school to think that unarmed Black people should be murdered for minor violations, violations that you and your white friends can get away with with impunity?  Find someone else to reinforce your racist sexual fantasies that Black men are driven by lust for your nasty white girlfriend.  I support Black love, Black men and Black women being emotionally mature, intimate, honest, loving, and working together to eradicate racism, not your racist cuckold fantasies that reinforce that Black men are nothing more than sexual savages, nothing more than human dildos that service slutty, racist, white women or fuel your gay submissive desires.

I am superior to white men.  It’s not a role I play and I find your assertion that you need me to dominate you in order for you to see the humanity of Black people incredibly offensive.  You want me to alleviate your guilt over wanting to be a sissy faggot.  If your racist beliefs are that deeply ingrained that you can’t grasp that Black people have been oppressed, discriminated against, and disadvantaged since being kidnapped, enslaved, denied basic human rights, and objectified for centuries without having your dick in your hand, then you aren’t even worth my respect, let alone my precious time.  Go bother someone else who will tell you that your little cock is pathetic and feed your cucky fantasies.  I am not the one.

To all the white men who insist that they need to be reprogrammed in order not to be racist, I say go, read my blogs, my writings, my essays and my erotic stories.  Explore this new invention called the internet where you can find lots of information about white privilege, the fallacy of white supremacy, and racism.  Read a book, read a few, written by Black scholars.  Wait, you don’t value what Black academics have to say so go watch a few Tim Wise videos.  Apparently, learning about your racism is easier when it comes from a white man.  When you can come to me with some humility and respect for my race without it being tied to your racist sexual fantasies, when you have started doing the work of divesting yourself of the fallacy of white supremacy that is not connected to your erection, then I will be more than willing to converse with you about your racism.  Otherwise, it’s not my job, responsibility, or mission in life to make sure you aren’t racist.  That is your job!

Worship

The following story is part three of what was to be an ongoing story.  This was the final chapter.  In going through my old writings I came across it and I needed to post it again.  I'm so in love with the Bitch Domme character and her ability to manipulate the white sub.  To me, there is no greater sense of satisfaction than when dominating a white man and he is seething in anger and he wants to strike you, he hates you, but you can see the look in his eyes that his brain is misfiring, that he realizes for the very first time in his life that he is not truly superior, that the white race isn't truly superior.  It's a thing of beauty to see.  

I hope you enjoy. 

Steven had fucked up.  After his failure of a first meeting with me, he sat and stewed and seethed with animosity.  Steven’s actions made him re-evaluate his own twisted kinks.  It was a painful and shameful look in the mirror for him.  He had to acknowledge, if only to himself, that his desires were pathological.  His need for extortion and blackmail, his fantasies of being “outted”, and financially drained, even his obsession with shallow, materialistic women were all indications of him indeed being mentally ill.  He invited women to extort him, he fantasized about his friends and family knowing of his perversions.  He got off on the idea of posting humiliating videos of himself doing repulsive things and sending them out to people with his face showing boldly. 

At the same time, he wanted to pretend to be a victim, to be faultless in his own financial and social demise.  At the end of the day, he loved all of it.  He sent other women money, bought their used undergarments, he continued to make videos all while pulling his worthless cock and checking his account balances, fantasizing that they said $0.00.  In the light of day, when he was out and about among normal, reasonable people, he felt profoundly ashamed of himself.  He waited for the confrontation he knew would come, someone in his family, his superior at work wanting to speak to him and question him about his bizarre proclivities.  In the privacy of his own home, in front of his computer however, he had no such qualms.  He feverishly stroked his tiny, limp cock to the childish insults of materialistic women who needed him to pay their bills or buy them expensive shoes they had no real occasion to wear them, and to their empty threats to expose him as he made endless paypal transactions and purchases. 

Knowing that I was truly above being one of the money hungry, greedy bitches he usually plays with, thinking that he could appeal to my rational, benevolent self, Steven approached me cautiously this time.  He sent me an email with no apology, no tone of contrition or hint of regret for his previous foul behavior, asking me how much it would cost to meet again.  I responded simply, without any fanfare or drama, $20,000 in cash, hand delivered to me in Philadelphia.  True to his nature, Steven responded by trying to negotiate, said he couldn’t afford that much, he even tried to get me to dominate him in exchange for the amount.  After several days without a response from me, he relented and agreed to meet me at the corner of N. 38th and Parrish Streets on Sunday morning, 11 am, and I reminded him that the money had to be in cash. 

Steven, oblivious to the workings of real Black America, showed up on time, thinking we would make the exchange at a small coffee shop or café.  Martin Luther King, Jr. said 50 years ago that the most segregated hour in America was 11 am on a Sunday morning and nothing had changed in half a century.  Wearing jeans and a button down, Steven approached me cautiously as he observed all the church goers, dressed in their Sunday finest, assembling to praise God pass us by and politely but not so subtly stare.  I had donned my best Sunday-go-to-meeting black suit, silk stockings, patent leather pumps.  I extended my white cotton gloved hand and peered from under my veiled black hat.  “Steven, it’s such a pleasure to see you again.” 

“Uhmmm, yeah,” he looked around nervously.  All of his fantasies of being humiliated and sexually shamed in public just vanished and he wanted to run and hide.  This was not at all what he had expected.  He said, “I have the money, can we just get this over with?” 

“Oh, goodness, Steven, what’s the rush?  Let’s go inside, shall we?” One of the ushers, a strikingly gorgeous Black man with an imposing figure held the door for us and wished us a pleasant good morning and handed us a program.  Not wanting to make too much of a scene and slightly intimidated by the whole situation, he stepped inside.  Never in his life had he felt so out of place.  His was the only white face in the sanctuary and he was the only person dressed casually.  I walked to the very front of the church and he felt compelled to follow.  He stood speechless as he stared up at the 40 ft. stained glass representation of Jesus, depicted as he truly was, a Black man with hair of wool.  Steven was angry, outraged; it was an offense to his every sensibility to see a Black man depicted as his lord and Savior.  Every cell in his body was filled with hatred for me.  He started to tell me to fuck off, that he was going to leave, but every head turned just as he began to raise his voice.  The words stuck in his throat before he could get out a complete sentence and he quietly slid into the pew next to me. 

Glancing around at all the beautiful people, happily married couples, single women, all reserved and devout, Steven fantasized about each and every one of them humiliating him sexually.  He waited for the shouting and speaking in tongues and running up and down the aisles he stereotypically expected but it never came.  The Men’s Choir sang some spirited gospel songs and everyone stood and clapped and praised the lord but the entire experience was more sophisticated than savage.  He fidgeted as I ignored him, trying to whisper to me that he needed to go, that he had other plans.  He didn’t listen to a word of the sermon, he was more concerned with deviant thoughts of being gangbanged, kicked, stomped, and used in this holy place of worship. 

There was a call to the altar for prayer and I whispered sweetly in Steven’s ear that he needed to confess his sins.  He swallowed hard and firmly said no, all eyes would be on him and that was not arousing for him.  He didn’t want to play the game my way, he wanted me to conform to his desires; he wanted me to be like the other classless whores he dealt with.  I discretely signaled for my friend, the usher, to escort Steven to the altar.  He knelt before Black Jesus and I knelt beside him.  “That’s it Steven, pray to Black Jesus, confess your sins.  Tell him what a wretched white heathen you are.  Pray for salvation to Black God, Steven.” 

He knelt, with his hands clasped as in prayer but his knuckles were white as he wanted nothing more than to strike me, to shut me up.  I leaned in closer and whispered more softly, “Louder bitch, let everyone know you are a sinner, tell them that you accept Black Jesus as your personal lord and savior, that you know he bled and died on the cross for your filthy, nasty sins.  Don’t you want to be washed in the blood of Holy Black Jesus?”  Tears streamed down his face, his knees ached, rage consumed him.  The congregation clapped, praised God, and cheered for his salvation.  The Pastor prayed, his righteous words punctuated with the staccato of the organ.  They passed the collection plate and I whispered softly, “Every penny of it, Steven, I want you to put every single dollar in that collection plate.” 

His hands trembled as he reached for the envelope in his back jeans pocket and he placed it on the pile of fives, tens, and twenties in the red-velvet-lined brass plate.   He closed his eyes and begged God for forgiveness, to absolve him of his sins, to release him the sexual sickness that consumed him, that prevented him from forming any sort of real, substantial relationship.  He prayed to be normal.  As much as he pretended to be happy as a freak, he deeply wanted to be loved, accepted, and respected by a woman who would love him for something other than his money.  It had been more than 30 years that he had even allowed himself to think such thoughts.  He prayed to the image of a Black man, on his knees, worshipping him, feeling truly worthless and inferior.  When he opened his eyes, I was gone.

He sent me an email, this time with notable humility and respect.  “Mistress, I bow to your will.  I’ve never encountered anyone like you before and I acknowledge and respect that you are nothing less than a true Goddess.  You are my religion and I’m willing to do things your way.  All that I am, all that I have is yours.” 

Copyright 2010 AfroerotiK  All Rights Reserved

A Question for my white male submissive followers

I have a question for my loyal submissive white male readers and fans.  What is it about my writing that you appreciate the most?  What is it that appeals to you about my stories?  What sets it apart from other interracial domination stories?


I need specific examples of what draws you back to read AfroerotiK stories.  What makes you seek out arousal from my stories? 

Please provide detailed feedback.