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.

Showing posts with label submissive. Show all posts
Showing posts with label submissive. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

The Making of a White Sissy Slut



When he replied to my ad online, Steven said he was an attractive, 30-something, successful white man who was willing to explore the wild side. When we met in person, I was more than a little bit disappointed. Attractive was a stretch of the imagination and I told him so right off the bat. He acted as if I’d said something to offend him and responded by saying, “Well, no one’s ever told me that I was unattractive.” When I suggested that was because no one had had the occasion to be brutally honest with him, he got visibly pissed off and blurted out, “Well, my mom thinks . . .” and caught himself before he said something that made him look like a total, pathetic loser.

Truth be told, Steven wasn’t gruesome; he was merely average. Average for a white boy unfortunately is just shy of ugly. Thin lips, pasty skin, thinning hair, non-descript features, he was nothing to write home about. I had plans to change that. The ad to which he replied was a proposition to completely transform a white boy into a sexy, desirable, cross-dressing, sissy, and insatiable, cum-crazed whore for black cock. I didn’t pull any punches and he knew what he was in for so there was no reason to play games. I didn’t have much to work with from the beginning but at least he wasn’t fat and out of shape. I’d had less to work with in the past so he wasn’t my greatest challenge.

I took him back to my loft and told him to strip. He’d lied in his response by saying that his cock was just a little over 6 inches. I made him stand in the center of the room, completely naked, and I sensually stroked his cock for less than a minute until he was whimpering and biting his lip, trying to keep from cumming. I took out my ruler and placed it at the base of his cock and told him to tell me EXACTLY how much his worthless, pathetic cock actually measured. He mumbled something incoherent.

“Listen you little worm. I said TELL ME HOW MUCH YOUR LITTLE CLITTY REALLY MEASURES.” His face became reddened and he looked angry and broken at the same time. I continued to stroke his cock and I could tell that he was on the verge of shooting his load. Tears were forming in his eyes.

“Five,” he whispered, almost inaudibly, choking back the tears.

It wasn’t even a full five inches but I’d accomplished my mission. He was humiliated. “You can’t expect to please a woman with that. That’s pathetic. You have no choice, you have to be transformed into a cross-dressing, sissy whore so you’ll never have to annoy women with your worthless attempt at fucking again. I’m going to make sure your pussy is your only source of sexual satisfaction. I’m going to turn you into a woman, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you move, the very way you think is going to be that of a woman. You will be a lady in the streets and a filthy, nasty, cum dump in the sheets. Your pussy will throb and get so horny you will actually think it’s getting wet and you will be desperate to get fucked by the biggest, blackest, hardest pricks you can find. He moaned out loud as his cum dribbled from his cock, barely enough to be considered a spurt, let alone a blast.

Over the next three months, I trained him. I caged his cock in a chastity device and he was denied the right to cum. I had his body waxed and he was as smooth as silk. Lessons consisted of teaching him how to walk like a woman, how to hold his hands, and how to cross his legs and be sophisticated in public. I also trained him in ways to drive a man crazy by spreading his legs wide and begging for hard dick in his slutty cunt in private.

He was a very good student. I could see the changes taking place before my very eyes. When he did well, I would reward him by strapping on a 10 inch black dildo and fucking him while he looked at pictures of gorgeous Black men with enormous cocks and he told me out loud how much he lived to worship them. For punishment, when he would do something wrong, or simply for my amusement, I would wrap my hands around his neck and choke him, telling him that I was going to make him suck off a white man if he didn’t learn to behave. Cutting off his air supply, I would tell him that white men were arrogant, repulsive, ignorant assholes and that if he didn’t do as I told him, I was going to make him put their nasty, pitiful small cocks in his mouth until they came and that he would never earn the right to suck off a Black man’s gorgeous, manly cock. Just as he was about to pass out, I would release my grip and he would cry like a baby hysterically on the floor, begging me never to make him do something so disgusting, confessing that he hated white men and never wanted to touch them or be touched by them.

At four months, he was passable enough that we could go out shopping together as girls, and he was already turning heads of men and didn’t even realize it. Even in his regular clothes, he was becoming feminine; he spoke with a gentle demeanor, and showed none of the signs of arrogance of when we first met. He was an expert at applying his makeup and the expensive wigs we purchased for him looked 100% real. He learned quickly to point out cheap and trashy cross dressers and their lame attempts to get off by shocking unsuspecting sales clerks in lingerie stores. We shopped in expensive boutiques and he had quite a collection of heels, stockings, lingerie, and dresses.

Orgasm denial was taking a toll on him because it was month five when he began to beg for release, to practice his newly learned deep-throating skills on a real cock. He endured the discomfort of saline injections to increase his bust size and he marveled at the way his new, full tits looked in his lacy bras, bustiers, and corsets. He especially loved when I would apply nipple clamps and twist and pull his nipples while calling him a filthy white whore. Previously a work-a-holic, wearing men’s clothing felt unnatural to him and now he would find excuses to work from home or leave work early so he could get home and put on his satin and silk and feel like his true self. He would beg me to let him eat my pussy, but I told him he wasn’t allowed because he could only have superior black cocks in his mouth. Steven the male was no longer; he was a distant memory. Stacy was born anew, a woman in every sense of the word.

I planned Stacy’s coming out party for exactly six months from the day we met. I had to admit, she was gorgeous. Even I didn’t think she was capable of such an extreme makeover. That average looking white boy I met so long ago was now a stunning, beautiful white woman whose smoky seductive eyes could captivate, whose collagen-enriched, full lips were inviting to the hardest of cocks, and whose hips swayed sensually when she gracefully walked in her expensive stilettos. There wasn’t a detail I left to chance. Her hands were perfectly manicured, not with garish fake claws but with an elegant clear polish. She wore a simple diamond band on the ring finger of her left hand, not as a symbol of our marriage, but as a symbol of her devotion to me for allowing her to become the cum hungry whore who dwelt inside her.

I’d invited four of the most hung Black men I knew to her party. They’d been to a couple of my events before and they knew the deal. They were to treat the slut as harsh and as rough as they could as long as she didn’t utter her safe word. I’d kept the party attendees a secret, Stacy didn’t know how many or who, she just knew that her asspussy was going to be truly satisfied for the first time in her life.

Stacy sat at her dressing table, applying the last little bit of her makeup, her hands shaking. She looked at me through the mirror and said softly, “Thank you. I feel like I’ve been freed from a prison of lies and masquerading. It makes me sick to think of what I used to be. I know that I’m supposed to be a white bitch for black cocks now, I know that I was born to be a sissy slut.”

Tears were forming in her eyes and I stopped her. “Stop with the waterworks sweetie, you’ll ruin your makeup. Just go out there and make me proud.” She stood up and I made her turn around for me. She was breathtaking. I applied pressure to her shoulder and she bent forward for me without me having to ask. I pulled up the hem of her skirt and bared her pussy. I’d inserted a large, black butt plug in her earlier in the day and I pulled it out as it made a lewd and nasty plopping sound as Stacy moaned and wiggled her ass at the empty feeling. Her cunt was tight and ready. I wiped the excess lube away and finally handed her the key to the chastity device.

“Here, you do it for me, please. I can’t . . . I’m . . . You were right all along. My clitty is worthless and I should be ashamed I ever tried to use it . . .” I freed her from her restraints, stroked it softly, and her clit engorged to its full length immediately, harder, thicker, and longer than it’d ever been. I turned her towards the full-length mirror and pulled her skirt up in front of her. We both giggled at the obscene image of this strikingly beautiful woman with an oversized clit staring back at us. She pulled on a pair of sexy French-cut, lace panties and tucked her clit away as she took a deep breath and emerged for her debut as a dirty, white, pain-pig, tramp.

The reactions of everyone were just as I’d hoped. The fellas almost couldn’t believe that Stacy wasn’t a real woman. They kept looking at her and whispering to each other. Dante pulled me to the side and asked me if I wasn’t trying to play some sort of game on them because there was no way that could really be a dude. Stacy was disappointed and deservingly so. She wanted more than four men to use and abuse her body. She’d learned to take two oversized dildos in her asscunt at the same time. She could swallow 12 inches of dildo without gagging and I’d teased her for months about the prospect of having no less than 10 men fuck her to unconsciousness. She was the most gracious hostess however, refilling drink glasses, making sure everyone had something to eat, laughing and mingling and making everyone feel comfortable like only a real woman could do.

She teased the men, just like I’d taught her to do, bending over and showing off her ass. Her tits were spilling out of her sexy top and she made sure to rub crotches whenever she could.

Everyone was waiting for my signal for the real party to begin. “Gentlemen, I want to thank you so much for coming here tonight. Stacy is my greatest accomplishment to date. Spank her, fist fuck her, make her suck your filthy cocks after you fuck her, degrade her in whatever extreme, base, perverted, disgusting way you can think of. ANYTHING you can think of, she’ll do it and I promise she’ll only beg for more. Without further ado, let the games begin.”

The guys started moving furniture around, making space in the living room for the serious play to begin. Stacy did a sexy and sensual striptease, more exotic and alluring than any professional could do. I saw a look of panic in her eyes when it came time to take off her panties. It was in that moment that he was ashamed of her cock. She wanted to have a real pussy, a real clit. I looked at her and nodded slightly and told her with my eyes that it was okay for her to be who she was. She sensed my reassurance and boldly stepped out of her panties and got on her knees and waited for whatever sweet torture could be inflicted upon her.

Dante and Rodney pulled out their dicks first and Stacy dove for them, feeling the smooth, taut skin of their hardening cocks fill her mouth, tasting their sweet precum. She jerked off one as she sucked the other and went back and forth, deep throating them and getting them wet with spit. Rodney grabbed her face and forced her mouth open and spit in it and shoved his dick balls deep in her throat. He grabbed the back of her head and fucked her face. Dante pulled her sexy nipples which only made her hum and moan on the cock in her mouth. Eric wanted in on the action and he pulled off all his clothes and said, “Let me have some of that.”

Always willing to share, the first two backed off and let the other two have at it. Eric turned around and said, “Come on bitch, nothing more that I like than a white woman’s tongue in my dirty asshole. Lick it clean.” I had no idea how dirty his asshole was in order for it to be licked clean but it was apparent that Stacy loved the smells and tastes of whatever his asscrack had to offer. She drove her tongue in deep and sucked his asshole. I could hear her say, “Mmmm, it tastes so good,” before her face was surrounded by Eric’s sex bubble butt and she went back to making a feast of his asshole.

Gerald was the last man standing and he wanted in on the action too. Come here bitch, I gotta piss and I want you to drink it all. Stacy whipped around and before she could confirm that she was ready, her mouth was full of cock. She had been trained well to hold completely still and wait for that piss and I could see her start to swallow repeatedly as Gerald moaned out, “Yeah, toilet whore, drink my rank, hot piss.” I could tell when he was finished because he started to fuck her throat savagely. “Yeah slut, take my black dick.”

Things went into overdrive from then on out. All four men had their hard cocks in her mouth in succession. Occasionally she would have two cocks in her mouth at the same time but that didn’t seem to faze her. While she was sucking one, she was stroking off two others. They were pinching her nipples, slapping her tits, taking turns shoving their hard cocks in her throat. Eric hadn’t planned on cumming in her mouth but she was sucking so hard, licking his balls and working the head of his dick with her throat that he couldn’t help himself. He blasted her mouth with his salty cum like a real man, pumping his hot jism in her mouth and adding his spit to the mix before she was made to swallow.

Stacy was in the zone. “Fuck me, somebody please fuck me.” She was pushed down to her knees and Rodney got in position first. He was still wet from the nasty blowjob and her pussy was leaking lube so he had no reason to go slow. He rammed his dick in her cunt balls deep. She let out a moan and lowered he head to the floor and kept her ass in the air so he could have full access to pound her tight pussy. He grabbed her hips and started pounding out a steady rhythm like an African drum. Each stroke, he would pull out to the head and ram every inch deep inside her. Gerald got in front of her and worked it out so that when he was balls deep in her mouth, Rodney was pulling out of her tight twat.

Dante was amused. “Man, white boys are fucked up. Look at this fucking faggot take all that dick and not miss a beat.”

Stacy looked up. “Yeah, that’s right, I’m a fucking faggot whiteboy that lives to be used by black men. Breed my sissy cunt, use me, degrade me for being a perverted white bitch, treat me like a piece of shit. Take out all your aggression and frustration on my pussy. Just fuck me. FUUUCK ME.”

And that’s exactly what they did. One by one, they fucked her like an animal without care for her pleasure or pain. Every time a cock was pulled from her freshly fucked shithole she sucked it clean. There wasn’t an occasion in over two hours that she didn’t have a cock in her mouth and her pussy at the same time. The guys held off on cumming until they couldn’t take it anymore. She worked her pussy and they gave her what she wanted. Her ass was red and sore from being spanked, her tits were bruised from being grabbed and squeezed. Her nuts were aching and in pain, desperate for release. The pain inspired her for more. The more they used her, the more ravenous she became. Gerald unloaded his nuts her mouth while Dante pumped a load deep in her colon. He grabbed a plate of Hors D'Oeuvres, dumped them on the floor, and made her squat over the plate and shit out his cum. Stacy pushed out his cum and took it a step further and licked his cum from the plate like a sexy kitten licking milk.

Eric had the most stamina because he’d already cum once so he lay on the floor and demanded that she ride his jet, black dick. She stood shakily on her high heels, her legs weakened by the savage fucking she’d endured for several hours. Still a lady in every sense of the word, and still beautiful even with her makeup smeared and her hair sweaty, she thought only of her lover’s pleasure first and turned away from him, facing his feet so that he wouldn’t have to be disgusted by looking at her obscene, aroused pink clitty. I intervened. I leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear. “You aren’t really a woman, you are a pathetic white boy who needed the pretense of being a woman to realize your nasty true nature. Don’t be afraid to show off your worthless cock now. You are a filthy, faggot, cocksucking cum-whore who now knows that you are only fit to please Black men. I destroyed you and recreated you to be what I wanted, a white sissy bitch. Own who you are, just like I own you.” Somehow, she understood that they were words of empowerment and she turned to face Gerald and lowered her asspussy on his erection.

She remembered everything I taught her. She worked her pussy and rode that hard shaft, squeezing it, milking it, and pumping her hips like an insatiable slut. Eric tried to fuck her so hard he tried to throw her off. She rode his cock like a cowboy rides a bucking bronco. The room reeked of sweaty man sex. She kept chanting, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,“ over and over again.

I could tell that Eric was close and I grabbed Stacy’s cock and stroked it no more than three times and she erupted, shooting hot cum in the air. It landed on Eric’s washboard abs and he was furious. “Bitch, look what you did! Lick that shit off of me you goddamn homo.” For the first time in the evening, Stacy was given a task she couldn’t do. She’d been reprogrammed to detest the cum of white men. In her head, she wasn’t a white man anymore; she’d truly become a sissy slut, a feminized bitch. There was something else however that made her repulsed by the thought of having to lick the cum of what she hated most, a white man. It was in that moment that she started to cry like a bitch, sobbing uncontrollably at the request that made her come face to face with her own self-hatred.

“Fuck me some more,” she demanded, “give me some more cum.” She got on her knees and pulled open her abused asscheeks to reveal her swollen and red rosebud. “Come on, fuck me. Pump your hot cum in me, Fuck me. I need more cum. I need more cocks. I had the guys get dressed and leave while I attended to Stacy, trying to calm her down until she fell asleep on the floor, fucked and exhausted.

It’s been a week since the party. Stacy has been calling me around the clock. I’ve had no choice but to ignore her calls because I’m on to my next project and this time, at least he’s reasonably attractive.

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK


Monday, November 28, 2005

Goddess Initiation

A full moon hung heavy in the summer night sky. It was like a scene from a movie but the reality of it was brought home to Graham by his heightened sense of arousal and the majesty of the individuals before him. He had been selected from a long list of applicants to witness a special ceremony like none other. The Southern Regional Obeah Society was having a rites of passage ceremony for one of its most exalted members. To the outside world, the organization was nothing more than a Black BDSM group that promoted Black Supremacy. In actuality, it was nothing of the sort. It was a group formed to restore true Afrocentric principles and governing regulations to those that chose to acknowledge Africa as their spiritual and cultural homeland. Hoards of submissive whites flocked to the S.R.O.S. members because they were so comfortable with their sexuality and power and it served as a natural aphrodisiac for those wishing to relinquish some white guilt. On this weekend, the Divine Mother Mistress Olutuunde was being given the title of Goddess. It was a sacred ceremony with traditions and practices taken from several West African religions and adapted to contemporary African American sensibilities. Meaning, no goats were sacrificed, no genitals were mutilated, but there was an amazing feast of food and libations and traditional dress, dance and ritual.

Graham had been escorted blindfolded to a remote compound outside of Atlanta. His sense of direction was fine for a while, they started out on I-20 and made their way south on I-75. His chauffeurs obviously didn’t want him to know their exact destination so there were some twists and turns en route that were intended to throw him off. They arrived at what seemed to be a four hour journey at a remote 30 acre piece of land that surely had been the property of a genteel slave master in days gone by. Graham was the only white person there and his own insecurities made him more self-conscious than the actual treatment he received. Everyone treated him with casual deference. He was insignificant to the weekend’s festivities and he knew his place was to watch and to observe and to await his time to serve.

Friday night, he witnessed all the weary travelers arrive and find their accommodations. There were about 35 to 40 guests in all; the majority of which were Black males. There were a handful of women that were also high ranking priestesses in the order, but this weekend they were acting as maidens to Divine Mother Olutuunde. They were to cater to her every need. Graham noticed that the Divine Mother treated them all with respect. He imagined that a white woman would not be as gracious with a similar amount of power, and wondered silently why there seemed to be no signs of jealousy among the women. His sensitivities to the differences in behavior were heightened by the fact that the he was the lone Caucasian in the group and he had no choice but to remark on the differing patterns. The rest of the women in attendance had risen to the ranks of Goddess already and were going to be officiating the ceremony. They remained out of sight mostly, preparing themselves with prayer and meditation in the solitude of nature. They were drawing on all of the spiritual energies and ancestors needed to raise Mistress Olu’s vibrational pattern to that of a Deity.

Saturday morning began a day of preparation and festivities. The Divine Mother was not to have her feet touch the ground so she was carried upon the shoulders of four men wherever she needed to be taken. She actually had no such need; anything and everything she desired would be brought to her with the snap of her fingers. The four men stood by her like sentinels guarding the throne. The women groomed the Divine mother all day, lavishing luxury and pleasure on her. Graham watched from the periphery, constantly aroused and amazed by the beautiful brown bodies before him.

The hand maidens took great pleasure in attending to the honoree. Graham watched in amazement while they washed the long, beautiful dreadlocs of the Divine Mother, at how they used a liquid black soap to create volumes of suds and massaged them gently from root to tip. They gently and repeatedly poured purified spring water from a pitcher through her hair until no signs of lather remained. The maidens then created a hairstyle that looked like a crown with her locks, and momentarily, Graham was ashamed that his fine, limp hair could not duplicate any such style.

He watched in awe as they bathed her body. From head to toe, they caressed her smooth brown skin. Each maiden knew that one day she would be in the same position and she lavished all the pampering and care she would want on herself, creating a space in the universe for her actions to be returned in kind when it was her time to ascend. Intricate henna tattoos of ancient Adinkra symbols were skillfully applied to Olutuunde’s spine, a spiritual road map of sorts for her energy to be raised up through her chakras. Melted shea butter was poured all over her and all ten hands of her lady servants massaged it in to every pore. Her skin glistened and glowed with rich deep tones and smooth, velvety perfection.

Graham swallowed hard as the women prepared to shave the beautiful cunt of Mistress Olu. She lay back on the down filled mattress and spread her legs. The male attendants stood erect in more ways than one, in their color sarongs and bare chests, as they watched. Graham was light headed, awed by all the beautiful Ebony bodies before him. He wished he could just disappear into the surroundings but there was little need for his nervousness; his presence there was more like that of a pet than a participant.

They lathered her gorgeous mons and sharpened the straight-edged razor with precision and skill. Slowly . . . methodically . . . and with exacting movements, every hair was removed to reveal the silky, soft folds of black femininity. They repeated the procedure again, leaving her naked in a way that seemed more tangible than just having no clothes on. Her pussy lips were like that of a flower, delicately opening to reveal her inner most treasure.

Each maiden, one by one, knelt at Olu’s core and made tribute with her mouth. Each woman kissed, licked, and sucked that sweet pussy while the Divine Mother lay writhing in sensual ecstasy. Mother Olutuunde shuddered through a string of never-ending orgasms. Graham, knowing he could not relieve himself during the weekend’s activities, stood in tortured agony awaiting his turn. His chance to drink from the beautiful Mistress was not to come any time soon. His opportunity to feast at the divine core was to come at a much later, more crucial stage in the weekend.

He made his way around the rest of the compound, pausing to take note of the strength and beauty of all of the people that surrounded him. He wondered inwardly how their ancestors could ever have been confused for being inferior. He marveled at their bodies, their skin, and their presence. Everything about them reeked of royalty and magnificence.

Graham casually strolled to the barn on the property where no less than 20 black men were in various states of undress; all of whom were eating, drinking, dancing, drumming and working out. They were preparing for the night’s main event. They were bonding; each man hand selected by a private council to participate in the initiation. Ascending to the position of Deity in the secret order is the second highest honor of the resurrected African tradition. The highest honor and privilege went to the men who were selected to impregnate the initiate. As Goddess Mother, she was to give birth to a Prince or Princess that would one day reign supreme. No one man could be selected to father such a child lest his ego become distorted with delusions of grandeur. Twenty men were selected, each for their special talents, abilities, and skills, to provide love, nurturing, support, guidance and the genetic materials to assist in the creation of the wonder child. No one would ever know who the biological father of the child was and it was of no importance. Yes, for a mother, the child would have the mother of all mothers and he or she would have twenty fathers that would love and protect him or her for life. The child would be the collective of the most superior genetic stuff possible. Graham watched as the men prepared and secretly hoped that their sperm would be the one to impregnate the Divine Mother Goddess.

Night fell and electricity grew in the air. It was a wild frenzy of celebration and circumstance. A huge bonfire burned and spat glowing embers to the cleared holy grounds, the land that held the bones of ancient survivors of chains of slavery and tyranny. Graham was a part of the processional, led in on a leash attached to his cock and balls. His pink erection looked almost laughable in comparison to the columns of Ebony flesh sported by Black priests of the secret Obeah society. He made himself comfortable on one of the hammocks and prepared for a long night.

Incantations were recited in strange tongues and prayers were sent up to the heavens. Twenty men were to make love to this woman, which could conceivably take twenty hours or more if left to their own devices. Each man was limited to 15 minutes to not only deposit his load into the Divine Mother, but to give her pleasure. They had refrained from any sexual contact for six weeks and eaten a strictly vegan diet to prepare for their responsibility. Olu had prepared as well. In addition to her fasting and meditation, she had been trained in ancient Kemetic sexual practices from other women who had ascended to the rank of Goddess. They taught her magical techniques that the Western mind would find inconceivable. She was prepared to give all the men the most memorable night of their lives in more ways than one.

The Divine Mother Mistress Olutuunde was carried in on the shoulders of her four body guards on their shoulders and placed on an altar. It was designed to have her comfortably recline in a position where her pelvis was at the same level of her lovers and allow the sperm to collect in her womb. She was radiant and joyful, almost too peaceful for someone about to be given the title of living God.

Each man that had been selected to contribute his load to the mix stood in anticipation. They stroked themselves to arousal in a huge circle jerk of masculine showmanship. The maidens licked and kissed Olu in a grand display of lesbian foreplay. That alone was enough to get ancestral spirits aroused but that was not to be the grand finale as it were. A cloth bag with a mudcloth pattern was circulated between the men. Each man drew a smooth stone with a symbol carved into it. That was to be the order in which they were to “perform”. A high priestess would send up a prayer and reach in another bag and pull out a stone. The individual with the matching symbol would be the next in line to perform.

Graham was in agony; his balls were aching and he was desperate for some relief. The numb ache he felt was a turn on, he liked being deprived of satisfaction, it was his fetish. He knew that when the time came for him to release it would be explosive.

The crowd was in a frenzy, desperate to know who would be the first. They were chanting and dancing and drumming and praying. Naked black bodies gyrated and moved in trancelike fashion.

The first symbol was pulled. The lucky frontrunner was an artist and musician named Heru from the Philadelphia area. He was honey vanilla in complexion and had locs that cascaded down his back. His 6’even frame was sinewy yet muscular and his stomach looked like a rippled washboard. The muscles in his lean, athletic thighs flexed as he approached the altar. He looked down on Olu with love and affection and they tenderly touched fingertips in an act of intimacy. For the first five minutes of their exchange, they kissed. They kissed the kiss of eternal lovers reunited after a lifetime of separation. Silence fell over the crowd out of reverence and respect. Their kisses grew more passionate and more compelling, to a feverish pitch. Olutuunde’s body arched up to receive Heru and they joined together for the first time. Everyone took a deep breath at that very moment except for Heru and Olu. They cried out into the night in sensual bliss.

Tears formed in Heru’s eyes as he experienced a sensation like he’d never felt before. He was confined in a prison of pure heaven and it was blissful torture. Olutuunde experienced pleasure of her own; Heru’s dick was reaching her spot and stimulating her to fits of orgasmic bliss. She fucked him back, giving him pussy like he’d never dreamt possible.

Graham watched, a lump in his throat, as the two lovers put on a performance that rivaled the best adult film he had ever seen. Never in his life had he witnessed two such beautiful black specimens in such a passionate exchange. Heru was glistening with sweat, Olu was moaning out into the night like an animal. Their body movements were like a dance. He fucked her harder and she responded in kind. The muscles in his ass flexed as he pumped and pumped some more. His steely erection was coated in her juices and he dug his fingers into her hips as he stood motionless and emptied himself physically and emotionally into the Goddess.

One by one, symbols were called and Ebony suitors stepped up to the task. Graham watched as men the color of the sweetest molasses to rusty brown to golden tan and every color in between drove their hard cocks between the sweet thighs of the Mother Earth. Each man brought his own technique yet the all seemed to melt under the auspices of the task at hand. None seemed prepared to encounter the velvety walls of a true Goddess and many needed to be carried away in exhaustion and defeat. Graham watched as each ebony cock was withdrawn from Olu, glistening with the previous loads of cum that had been deposited and his mouth watered with envy. After a few hours, he moved closer to the scene, no one seeming to care if he got a closer look.

As the night wore on, the men who had already gone began to get aroused again and pair off with the maidens. Not restricted to a time limit, they began to fuck like wild animal in the summer night air. Those that had yet to get their turn began to stroke each other. It was an African spiritual orgy, sex the way it was intended to be: open and free and without inhibition. Graham was high from the scent of sex and sweat and incense. He moved closer still, close enough to be but a few feet away from the vessel of Olutuunde. White frothy cum seeped from her lips and he openly wept and stroked his little erection furiously. Hard black cocks, attached to gorgeous Black men, fucking a Goddess right before his eyes was more than he could stand.

In the wee hours of the morning when the last man approached, everyone gathered around closely. The Most High Priestess stood at Olutuunde’s head and proclaimed to the night sky that her energy had raised to that of a Goddess. She spoke of her new powers and everyone stood in reverence to the birth of divinity before them. The last participant stood at the entrance to her soul. He took aim and penetrated her deeply. Olu reached yet another orgasm and a strange light appeared to emanate from somewhere within her. Graham blinked, thinking perhaps it was delirium and orgasm denial that had him seeing such things. He was in a dream state.

The last man fell to his knees and sobbed. He was carried away while everyone else seemed to still be at a feverish high. The High Priestess officiating called Graham’s name and said something in Yoruba that he could not understand. He knew his duty. He knelt between the legs of the Goddess. In true African tradition, the seed of the men that had collectively impregnated her could not be spilled. The other maidens could not be expected to perform such a duty, it was understood that only a white cum slut like Graham could perform such a task.

Graham swallowed hard again. Olutuunde’s cunt was raw and swollen and dripping with cum. Her inner pink flesh was crimson in color. Her sweat smelled sweet and the aroma from her pussy was a cum lover’s perfume. Graham was desperate to lick her, to clean her well fucked pussy. Her swollen clit looked like a tiny dick, hard and erect and needing attention. The blood rushed to his face. All at once, the reality that he was going to taste the cunt of a Goddess hit him and tried to run out of fear. He wasn’t worthy of such a task. The men assigned to guard the Goddess Mother held him by his arms, not allowing him to flee. The Most High Priestess grabbed him by the hair and moved his face closer and closer, his tongue just millimeters from the treasure. Graham was torn with emotion. He wanted to drink the cum from the Goddess Mother more than anything, he wanted to run, he was aroused at being controlled by the sexy men that towered above him and he wanted to stroke his cock with a desperation of a man that needed it to live.

His heartbeat was pounding louder than the drums and he heard sounds come from him that he didn’t recognize. He blacked out for a minute, only to be brought back to consciousness with his mouth lapping up the sweet cream of twenty black men. Through it all, he could taste the sweet cream of the Divine Mother Goddess. The silky smooth lips of her pussy were like velvet. She sat up for the first time for the evening and cum poured from her like a fountain and he tried to swallow it all. His lips formed a seal around her hole and he drank steadily. He swallowed mouthful after mouthful of what seemed to be an endless supply of Black cum. Assured that he wouldn’t run, the guards released Graham’s arms. Instinctively, he began stroking his hard cock. He drove his tongue deep inside the Goddess Mother and tried with all his might to lick her sweet inner walls. He was drunk with fantasies of sucking black cocks and eating shaved pussies and drinking the cum of superior men.



Graham reached up and spread the full, brown asscheeks of the Divine Goddess Mother and dove his tongue in to taste what cum had collected there. He tasted her musky flavors and stroked his own cock that much harder. Inspired by the attention to her asshole that had largely been neglected all night in lieu of her mission to conceive, Olutuunde began to relish the stimulation to her sensitive back hole. Alive with sexual energy, she began to hump her glorious, sexy asshole on Graham’s tongue. Graham, inspired by the thought that he could give pleasure to the Goddess-elect, began to zero in on her clit with the hopes of causing her to reach her final orgasm of the night.

He glanced momentarily at the others in an act of asking permission. No one made an effort to stop him. He held her lips open and embraced her sensitive spot with his lips. Olutuunde began moaning loudly. He used his tongue to lap at it gently, circling it, caressing it softly. He could feel her thighs tighten up around his head. He began a relentless assault with his tongue and lips on her clit and held on for dear life. He could feel the tremors in her legs start and her panting was out of control. He licked more. His cock was ready to explode. He sucked her clit and sent both Olu and himself over the edge of pleasure, crashing to a climactic ending.

That Sunday morning, everyone lounged casually and ate to recuperate. Graham wanted to recount the previous events with others, to talk about how he had made the Queen Goddess cum with his mouth, but no one had a reason to converse with him. He watched as everyone packed to return home and continue to go about their lives in an every day fashion. He rode home, blindfolded and painfully erect, only to be able to know that he still had the cum of 21 of the most superior and beautiful black people in his belly.

Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK