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.

Sunday, March 11, 2007

The Fountain of Ecstasy



Trinity was hesitant to sleep with Peter John for the first time. It wasn’t because she was ashamed of her full, voluptuous body like society would want her to be or because she was trying to play some sort of “I don’t want you to think I’m a whore” waiting game with him. Nope, Trinity was very attracted to Peter John but she also knew that her pussy has a tendency to mesmerize and captivate men, make them lose their minds. It was a special gift she had, one she couldn’t even control, but it made men lose their minds and she really liked Peter John, she didn’t want to add him to the collection of men went crazy for her special “talent.”

Her hormones got the best of her, however, after a great date with her new boyfriend. Things had been progressing rather nicely between them and Peter John was ready to take things to the next level. He pulled out all the stops one evening, dinner, dancing, and even surprising her with her favorite book, one she’s mentioned in passing and didn’t think he’d remembered. Peter John remembered everything she said. He was into this woman in a big way. She was sexy personified; every head would turn when she walked in the room. Confidence oozed from her very pores.

After dinner, Peter John drove out to the lake and parked his truck. It was a hot summer night and there were a few other couples out to enjoy the cool breeze and the full moon. The couple strolled hand in hand along the pier and then back to sit on a bench and watch the people go by. Peter John pulled her close in his arms, her back towards him, and couldn’t resist filling his hands with her full breasts. Feeling a bit tipsy from the wine and completely intoxicated by his sweet demeanor, Trinity gave in and a moan escaped from her lips. Before long, the couple was groping each other, kissing, and ready for some hot and heavy action. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, pulling his keys from his pocket and grabbing her hand to rush her back to his house.

There’s something about a steamy summer night that makes people take chances. As he opened her door to help her in, Peter John couldn’t resist the temptation. How could he? Trinity’s legs, smooth and brown, were too tempting as she slid in the truck. “Wait, he said, as he slid her around in the seat to face him and got down on his knees in front of her. “I have to taste you NOW. I can’t wait any more.”

Getting down on his knees, PJ began kissing his way up Trinity’s legs, spreading them further. She sounded convincing in telling him to stop, for the full half a second she tried, before she gave into the splendid sensation of her new lover’s soft lips kissing the tender warm flesh between her legs. She leaned back and he pulled her forward more, her full ass on the edge of the seat. Maneuvering her panties down her legs, he tossed them in the back seat and the light of the moon illuminated one of the most beautiful pussies he’d every seen. He wasted no time in diving in; eating her like she was dessert. It’s a good thing he had a sweet tooth because her juices tasted like honey. He was lapping her pussy, licking, sucking, and feasting on her sexy ass. His tongue was in overdrive, licking from her clit to her asshole and back again.

Trinity was out of her mind. The idea of some strange passerby casually strolling up on them and seeing them in the middle of a very public display was turning her on. She grabbed PJ’s head and held it to her pussy. She was chanting, moaning, purring like a kitten, it would have been very obvious to anyone who was interested that some hot and heavy exploration was going on in that vehicle but that couldn’t have been what Ford meant when they were naming their truck.

Peter John was so turned on; he reached in his pants and freed his raging dick. He was doing his best to stroke it but he couldn’t keep his hand off the glorious ass Trinity was grinding on his face. But within a matter of seconds, Trinity was pushing him away. One minute, she was telling him she was going to cum, the next minute, she was saying stop. Confused and sure she had only been seconds from cumming, he backed away and stood up, his dick leaking precum, hard and swollen. Trinity was rubbing her wet pussy and staring at him like he was tender young gazelle and she was a fierce lioness waiting to attack. He stroked his dick watching her, her legs spread, aroused, a look of lust on her face.

He was all too tempting, standing there, wanting her. “Fuck me, she said, and she beckoned him to put his throbbing dick where his tongue had been moments earlier. For a second, for the first few seconds in fact, Peter John thought that he has put his dick in a magical pussy. She was tight and hot and wet, but there was some sort of ridge in her pussy that was hitting the head of his dick and it was sending sensations through his body like he’d never felt before. That same spot was doing magical things to Trinity as well because every time he hit it, she would scream and moan and beg him to fuck her harder. “Yeah, you like that pussy, don’t you? Yeah, oh shit, damn that dick is making me feel good. Yeah, work it in there hard and slow, just like I like it.”

Her legs on his shoulders, Peter John was putting it down. They were both in a zone and loving every second of their passionate love making. Then, all of a sudden, he felt her tense up, he saw her shut her eyes, and he heard her say, “Oh noooo, I’m cumming.”

Then, without warning, it was like someone opened the gates of a dam. With his dick buried deep inside her, and her muscles milking him, he felt her body tremble and her legs tense up and he felt wave after wave of cum shooting out of her pussy. Stunned, he stepped back, only to see Trinity’s pussy shooting cum out like a super soaker. His pants were drenched and the seat of his car was soaked.

Breathing heavily, Trinity tried her best to sit up and apologize. “I’m sorry . . . I uhmmm . . . you see, when I cum I just can’t help it. I tried to warn you when you were eating my pussy. I didn’t want you to drown or choke, but I got distracted when I saw you standing there with your dick so hard.”

“You mean like this?” He looked down at his erection and he was pounding it, stroking it furiously.
“Oh shit, yeah, just like that,” she said, and slid off the seat, pulled her skirt up to reveal her magnificent ass and looked back over her shoulder and said, “I can’t take it, I need your to fuck me again.”

This time, Peter John thought he was prepared but he couldn’t have been more wrong. From behind, that ridge was hitting spots on his dick that made him see stars. He was long stroking, working her, feeling that soft flesh in his hands as Trinity was grinding her pussy on him. “Damn, I love that dick. Are you gonna make me cum again. You gonna make this pussy squirt one more time?”

Peter John grabbed her hips, filling his hands with her and fucking her like a man possessed. This time, her orgasm was met with his, shooting, filling her, adding to the mess that would have to be explained away to the car detailer with some flimsy, lame excuse.

Copyright 2007 AfroerotiK


Loving my Blood



The Creator has seen fit to allow me to wear the queenly robes of a Black woman in this lifetime. It is an honor for which I’m humbled. I have the ability to nourish and feed life inside me with my blood. Every month, my temple cleanses itself with my menses by shedding the cells and nutrients intended to cradle life. It’s miraculous in and of itself how the female body is so divinely crafted and the potential for life which it holds. Men, and their patriarchal domination, have somehow brainwashed women into thinking that their blood is a curse. Without that blood, they wouldn’t have survived, lived, or thrived in the womb. That blood fed their cells and enabled them to have life, know life. I’m aware that my blood is a divine gift.

I struggle with loving my blood, try as I may, because it comes with such debilitating pain. The pain is so intense, so distracting, that it seems that is consumes me. I would love to celebrate my blood in ritual, to treat it as sacred fluid deserving of the highest exaltation but I’m paralyzed by the pain that is associated with it. I suspect that my pain is the manifestation of centuries of rape, abuse, and disrespect that has been forced upon the wombs of my ancestors. I’m quite sure that moving away from a holistic diet based on plants and organic foods for generations has contributed to collective cramping of our uteruses. Were I to have a child, I suspect that I would be able to love my blood more, knowing that my blood fed my offspring in my womb. If I were to have a partner, I suspect that I would be able to love my blood more, knowing that I would have someone’s hand to hold, to fix me tea and tell me everything was going to be okay.

When I was young, before I got my period, it’s all I wanted. All my friends got it before me and I wanted to experience that rite of passage. I was anxious for it to come, as all girls are. I wasn’t told it was a curse by my mother or grandmother, although I was told that getting my feet during my period would cause me to get a deep voice; a rule I lived by for the better part of a year before I chanced it. The day I got my period was my cousin’s 8th birthday. We were having a party and I felt the first signs discomfort before the first drop of blood appeared. By the time I had my Kotex maxi pad and the belt in place, I was doubled over in pain, asking my grandmother repeatedly, “Why didn’t you tell me it was going to hurt this much? Why didn’t you tell me?” My mother suffered from dysmenorrhea just as I did until she had a hysterectomy.

I don’t suffer from mood swings, I don’t get cravings. My periods are short but they come with a knockout punch. For 24 hours, I’m loathe to do anything other than take pain pills and suffer in agony. I would so love to teach my daughter, if I’m ever blessed to have one, to love her blood but I fear I will pass on my feelings of fear and apprehension about the pain. I want to celebrate my blood, praise my blood as the gift that it is. I want to rejoice in my blood but I am handicapped by the pain.


Thursday, March 08, 2007

The Admiration of Lovers


There was that moment of recognition, that split second when I first laid eyes on you that I knew you were the one. Every fiber of my being, every cell in my body recognized you as my other half. I was enveloped with a peace that passeth understanding and love so deep, so profound that I knew my reality had been shifted forever. Never more could I be satisfied with the mundane and the average.

You moved slowly and deliberately, arousing me with your mere presence. Your hugs would cause my knees to weaken and the gentle touch of your fingertips to the nape of my neck would elicit intense sensations of pleasure. Your seduction of me was complete, stimulating my mind with your knowledge, my soul with your insight and my body with your slow and calculated caresses. Your kisses, oh your sweet kisses, such ecstasy and intoxication I’ve never known. (Musical bridge 10 seconds) I close my eyes to receive your kiss and I float freely in a realm of bliss. Your soft tongue licks and your tender lips envelope mine and I respond in kind, letting my mouth express my passion and desire. Your hands explore my body with such tender and intentional strokes. I feel my temperature rise and my body begin to ache for you to complete me. Lover, come unto me, join with me so that we might fulfill our destinies and become one.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Life Imitates Art

Norma, a corporate art buyer who prides herself on being the definition of conservative, goes on a gallery crawl in search of the next great artist. What she finds is that serendipity and fate have other plans for her. She is reunited with an old paramour and finds herself face to face with an image of her sexuality that holds her captive. She has to choose between her normally austere life of strict rules and delving into a world of hedonism and lesbian passion with a bohemian lover who releases her inner muse.



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Reality Bites

Brianna is fed up with the abundance of reality TV shows that show Black women in a degrading light. She auditions for the newest show with the intent of making a grand political and social commentary on camera. She uses her on air time to educate the viewing audience with her wardrobe, wearing t-shirts that have the names of outspoken feminist writers. What comes as a complete shock is the fact that she actually shares a strong intellectual and sexual connection with Michael, the show’s boy toy, right before she gets voted off the show.


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A Twist of Fate

A  Twist of Fate

It’s funny how, in an instant, one’s entire programming can be shifted.  Given the right circumstances, everything that you’ve ever believed, everything that you’ve fought, feared, and resisted can be twisted and morphed into the thing you crave the most.  Such was the case with Taja Crawford, who took a frightening journey that would leave her breathless, satisfied in ways she didn’t know existed, and craving much more.

It all started innocently enough, when Taja arrived home late one night from shopping.  She dragged her bags through the front door and dropped them at her feet as she reached around to hit the light switch.  She’d been out shopping as usual.  It had become her hobby of late in an ongoing effort to make herself feel valuable and beautiful.  As soon as the door closed behind her, she knew something was wrong.  It was pitch black!  She remembered pulling into the subdivision and none of the other houses were dark so she figured that there must be a blown fuse somewhere.  Her husband had been working around the house for a few days so she thought that he might have accidentally knocked something out. 

“Phillip, are you here?”  She called out to her husband again and there was no answer.  “It just figures that dumb ass wouldn’t be here to fix the mess he made,” she mumbled half under her breath and half aloud.  Taja’s anger at her husband was typical, even if he hadn’t done anything specifically wrong; she was going to find a way to blame him for something.  Philip was a model husband but Taja’s irrational standards were impossible to meet.  She took pleasure in degrading him every chance she got and knowing full well that he would take it.  She thought it was nothing less than an honor and a privilege for any man to be with her, that men had an obligation to take anything that she dished out and not say a word.  The more she could degrade him, the better she would feel about herself. 

Disoriented by the darkness Taja fumbled to find her purse to get her cell phone.  Just her luck, the battery had died.  That just made her angrier and curse Phillip more, even though he clearly had nothing to do with her phone.  Luckily for her, she’d just purchased some brand new candles so all she had to do was let her eyes adjust for a second and find the lighter, which was right on top of the fireplace in the living room.   

Before she even had a chance to get her bearings  . . . the unimaginable happened.  It was every woman’s worst nightmare and it was happening in her own home.  She felt the hands, the pressure, the pain, the fear overcome her body in a split second.  Taja was grabbed and immobilized, her arms pulled around behind her as she cried out, “Nooooooooo.  STOP,” but her cries were muffled by a black leather gloved hand over her mouth.  She was pushed against the front door and she felt the air being forced out of her lungs.  She fought, struggling with her assailant, trying to resist him but she was quickly overpowered.  Her mind was racing, she was praying, she was planning a strategy for escape all at the same time.  She was in a panic.  Her fear was soon displaced by rage as she hated this person for invading her home and was filled with the desire to exact revenge, even in her current helpless state.  She fought with all her might but she was overpowered as her limbs began to fatigue.  She was no match for her assailant. 

In a matter of seconds, she had calmed down enough to know that she was going to have to use her wits to get out of this situation.  With his hand still firmly against her mouth, she tried to get some image of what this person looked like.  Could it be someone that she knew?  Was it a total stranger?  Fear coursed through every vein in her body as she imagined it was one of her cyber lovers.  She’d spent many late nights cheating online, chatting with men in explicit sexual language in an attempt to add some spice to her life, to taunt Phillip and prove to him that she could have any man she wanted.  She’d been careless, sharing exaggerated, intimate details about her life in order to make herself seem more affluent than she really was.  Maybe one of those men had come to do unspeakable sexual acts on her.  Tears were burning in her eyes and a lump formed in her throat, making it nearly impossible to swallow.  The adrenaline pumping in her body was causing her to sweat and her legs felt like gelatin.

Her attacker leaned in close and whispered, “Shhhhhhh,” and Taja nodded very calmly to indicate that she understood.  As soon as he removed his hand, something was stuffed in her mouth and then a handkerchief or scarf of some sort was tied in place.  Her first reaction was to try to scream to get a gauge of how much sound she could make through the material but she held off.  She didn’t know if this person had a gun or a knife and what his intentions were so she played it cool until she could devise a plan.  He placed a silk blindfold over her eyes and she was struck by his gentle touch.  She noticed how he gently lifted her hair to secure the blindfold and the soft lingering touches he gave to her face.    She felt the cold metal of a pair of handcuffs being put on her wrists.  She needed to know what he wanted to do so she would have to gain his confidence enough to let her speak so she played the part of a scared victim but she was actually using her skills as an actress to make him think that she was incapable of escape. 

The strange attacker led Taja down the hall to the spare bedroom and closed the door and locked it behind them.  Her heart dropped when she thought about what had happened to her husband.  Phillip wasn’t just your average good guy; he was a great guy.  He owned his own handyman repair business, not glamorous but it paid the bills.  He bought Taja her dream house and he didn’t even complain when he had no say in picking out anything, nothing, not one single thing for the house.  He bent over backwards to be nice to Taja’s meddling sisters and her mother.  Phillip went to church every Sunday even when Taja felt like she had more important things to do, like shop.  He cooked, he cleaned, he even volunteered with disadvantaged youth, he would never cheat and he worked hard to provide for his wife.  His only flaw, to Taja, was not being edgy enough.  She saw the good qualities in Phillip but she wanted flash, she wanted a bad boy.  Certainly, Phillip would never allow anything to happen to her, she knew he loved her with all his heart.  She pushed the horrendous thought out of her mind about how her husband and the intruder might have struggled and fought, Phillip losing only to a bullet or knife wound, fighting to protect his wife.  She didn’t hate Phillip, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, she just wanted him not to take her shit all the time; she wanted to be the wife of someone dangerous.  It really wasn’t his fault that he was average.   

The adrenaline was pumping in Taja’s veins and she was acutely aware of everything going on around her.  Whatever happened, whatever was to happen, Taja maintained her senses and waited for her opportunity to escape.

The spare bedroom wasn’t even a room that she and Phillip usually used.  It was for guests when they came to spend the night; the only time it was ever really used was when Phillip slept there once in a while to keep from angering Taja with his presence.  The stranger led Taja to the middle of the room, and in a split second, Taja’s arms were hoisted above her head and attached to some sort of cable that was secured to the ceiling.  It was the most unbelievably painful and uncomfortable sensation she had ever experienced.  Taja was barely standing on her tiptoes and her arms were stretched to the point of excruciating pain.  She was trying to balance herself and she felt herself flailing about like a rag doll.  Her fight or flight instinct took over and she began crying uncontrollably.  She felt her tears stream down her cheeks only to be absorbed by the handkerchief around her mouth.  She tried to “feel” his presence in the room.  He had moved back and was just listening to her muffled cries.  She thought for a second that the end was near and everything would be over shortly.  In her mind, she said her goodbyes and repented for her sins and waited for her untimely demise.  What could have been seconds, what was probably minutes, but felt more like hours passed.  The pain in her arms was unbearable; her legs ached from trying to relieve the pressure but her feet could barely reach the floor.  Maybe he was going to leave her there to die, she thought; the victim of starvation, dehydration and torture. 

Unexpectedly, he released the cable that suspended her from the floor and let her stand.  Her arms were still above her head but the tension had been lessoned to the point where she could move them slightly.  Taja was grateful to him for sparing her such pain and she realized that he had won one battle; he had made her appreciative of his small act of kindness.

He moved around in front of her and she could feel his body heat close to her.  She felt his hands on her sides and run down to her full hips.  He began caressing her breasts and sheer terror shot through her.  Without notice, he ripped her blouse open, tearing it like it was nothing.  Her breathing was heavy, knowing he was probably standing before her, aroused, but she was helpless to do anything about it.  The telltale sign of the cold steel blade of a knife was pressed against her breasts as she froze.  He cut away her bra and the remaining portions of her blouse until she stood topless.  Having removed his gloves, he began caressing her neck, planting gentle, tender kisses on the nape of her neck and her collarbone.  He licked gently, he kissed softly; from her ears to her shoulders and not missing a spot in between.  His soft tongue licked up to her ear and he began blowing softly.  His fingers stroked her flesh as he sucked the tender spot that always made Taja wet. 

Rage coursed through Taja’s body.  The unspeakable was about to happen.  He was going to violate her, take from her something he had no right to take.  For years, she had fantasized about being “raped”.  Without regard for what the word actually meant, she fantasized that violent aggressive sex, that a man “taking” her, actually symbolized that she was more desirable than other women.  The reality was vastly different.  

Her mind was spinning, trying to reconcile the unadulterated fear coursing through her body and her arousal.   She was searching for some way to make sense of the fact that while she was angered and scared she was actually enjoying this man kissing her sweet spot.  He was making love to her neck with his mouth, licking and kissing and caressing her passionately.  She shook her head to shake the thought that here she was, standing bare breasted and restrained by a total stranger, and on some level she was enjoying it.  She was actually enjoying the sensation, it was giving her pleasure and it served to distract her from the pain in her arms that were still secured above her head and the anger of being assaulted.  She was desperate to move her arms; her restraint was painful, both physically and psychologically. 

In an act of kindness, her assailant unfastened the handkerchief around her face and removed the gag from her mouth.  Taja immediately began pleading for her life, trying to talk rationally with the man.  He didn’t say a word; he gently placed his fingers to her lips to indicate to her that he wanted her to be quiet.  Taja froze, and bargained.  “I’ll be quiet if you let my arms down a little, they hurt so badly.  Please.” 

He ignored her pleas as his fingertips began to gently trace her nipples, softly circling her breasts.  Her erect nipples stood out from her body, proudly almost, betraying the fact that she actually enjoyed the stimulation.  When he lowered his mouth to her tits, a small groan could be heard emanating from her throat.  He filled his hands with her breasts and he held them to his mouth.  Taja was outdone and began slightly thrusting back and forth, showing barely detectable signs of sexual arousal.  She was enjoying his ministrations a little too much for her comfort.  He began sucking a little harder and Taja bit her lip to keep from moaning.  He started biting her nipples and it was as if it was sending shots of electricity directly to her clit.  Her brain was misfiring, somehow causing her to experience the sensation as pleasure.  She could feel moisture developing between her legs, the throb of arousal in her pussy.  Taja was confused and determined to control her own desire.  She was always in control and she was going to do whatever she had to do to keep her pussy from getting wet.

Even the best laid plans need room for variables.  As Taja was trying to control her arousal, and the man before her was licking, sucking and biting her hard nipples, she experienced a sensation that would send her mind and body reeling.  Her arms were beginning to numb, a dull ache had set in, and she was almost able to tune out the pain when she was jolted by a pain that transformed her focus.  Nipple clamps were applied to her aroused nipples as her captor began to pull a chain attached to them.  He was toying with her, alternating between softly caressing her breasts and roughly pulling the chain that was attached to the clamps.  Taja wasn’t able to hide her arousal, she was moaning in pleasure and in pain.  He took what felt like to be a riding crop and began gently slapping her tits.  Taja was undone; she felt every sting as pleasure.   

Without notice, he stopped, causing Taja’s mind to spin out of control with questions.  “What is he thinking, what is he planning, what was he doing?”  As soon as he stopped the assault on her breasts, she was reminded of the pain in her arms, still suspended from the ceiling.  Within seconds, the cable that held her arms in the air was released enough to let her arms fall completely.  He massaged them for a few minutes, taking the opportunity to massage and lick her breasts as well.  This time, without the gag, it was impossible for Taja to hide the fact that she was aroused; her moans were audible and guttural.  Her arms were burning and sore and his massage felt delicious. 

He pushed her to her knees and circled her like a lion stalking its prey.  Still unable to see anything, there was no mistaking the sounds of his zipper being lowered.  Taja waited, anxious to be thrown into the next phase of arousal and stimulation.  She couldn’t deny to herself that she was experiencing pleasure in ways that she had never imagined possible.  The restraint, the pain, the fact that it was a total stranger controlling her fate . . . all turned Taja on and she was craving more sensation.  When it was all over, when she would tell the tale later, she would deny her arousal, now; she was going to bathe in the nasty and sensual feelings that had been awakened in her.

She felt the tip of his dick against her lips.  He held it there, neither one of them making a move to initiate any action.  Ever so detectably, he began rubbing it on her lips.  The salty, semi-sweet precum that had formed on the head of his dick painted her lips and her first instinct was to lick the fluid away but she remained like a statue, not wanting to scare her captor or cause him to get antsy.  He began to stroke his hard dick and she could hear him moaning.  He put his thumb in her mouth and continued stroking his dick.  Taja was confused.  He could easily have shoved his dick in her mouth and there wasn’t much she could do about it.  She swallowed the saliva that had collected in her mouth and realized that it simulated a sucking action.  He groaned loudly. 

He took his thumb out of her mouth and he grabbed a hand full of her hair.  Taja let out a yelp and he pulled her hair even tighter in his grip.  His breathing was getting more labored and he had now begun to push the head of his dick between her lips.  For the first time, Taja wanted to please her home invader.  She wanted him to be pleased with her oral skills, to consider her sexy and to want her.  Being objectified was her drug of choice and she was high and addicted to the sensation. 

The man with his dick in her mouth wasn’t interested in her thoughts and reflections, he was going to fuck her mouth and she wasn’t going to have much say in the matter.  He pushed his dick in to her mouth and he stood perfectly still.  Taja imagined that he was equally as afraid of losing an appendage as she was afraid of what he might do if she accidentally bit him.  Taja wanted to control the action, she wanted to give him a blowjob the way she wanted to do it but that was not to be.  He knew what he wanted and he communicated it to her without saying a word.  He controlled the pace; he controlled the action.  When he wanted her to lick, he pulled her head back, when he wanted her to suck, he shoved his dick in her mouth to the base.  He grabbed the back of her head and used her mouth for his pleasure.  She could feel every vein, every ridge against her tongue as he face-fucked her.  She gagged and choked as he forced the head of his erection down her throat and it seemed to turn them both on. 

Taja was enjoying the rough treatment.  She was aroused by the way this man was using her and she was stimulated by the fact that he didn’t really let her control the action.  She got into the blowjob and started trying to give him pleasure like she’d never done to anyone in the past.  It was important for her self-esteem to think of herself as an object of desire and she got into sucking and licking like never before.  It was the sloppiest, wettest, loudest blowjob she had ever given and even found herself moaning and enjoying it.  It was as if she didn’t have to pretend to be reserved anymore, like she had been conditioned to be; she could be a wanton, sexual slut, and that thought sent chills up her normally judgmental and conservative spine.  She rationalized that he was forcing her to behave in this whorish manner and she let go of whatever beliefs that told her she was being a bad girl, she wanted to be naughty and, dare she admit it, submissive.

She felt the head of his dick pounding her throat and she didn’t tense up, she went with the sensation.  He got thicker and harder in her mouth as he fucked her mouth more.  Taja’s hands were rubbing her pussy through her pants and her attacker was making noises like a wounded animal.  He grabbed her by the throat and restricted her air.  The rougher he treated her, the more moisture soaked her panties.  She was being held captive by a man she didn’t know and she was more trusting of him than she had been with all of her previous lovers. 

“Shit,” he cried out, the first word he had uttered all night, and he backed away.

Taja was dazed and caught off guard.  In the frenzy of her arousal, she had almost forgotten that he was a real individual.  Why had he stopped?  Had she done something wrong?  She hated herself for wanting him not to stop.  Had he shot his load on and not wanted to do it in her mouth?  Visions of his dick, shooting cum on the floor as he stood over her, stroking it, enraged her.  “Damn you, you son of a bitch.  Let me go, RIGHT NOW!  You’ll be sorry for this.”  She really wanted to beg for his cum in her mouth but she knew not to say another word.  She was on fire and it was impossible to deny at that point.  She began to plead with him again to let her go but in the back of her mind she wanted to experience just a little bit more erotic torture. 

He pulled her to her feet and removed her pants.  With painstaking slowness, he pulled them down over her full hips and tossed them to the side.  Taja stood motionless, afraid to move, not sure of the reasons why.  Her attacker led her to the bed and secured the handcuffs to the headboard.  She was laying face down and he made her get on her knees.  Taja was embarrassed to be so exposed, so vulnerable yet so aroused.   Again, he left her there for a few minutes in silence and in darkness. 

She felt the bed shift as he climbed on with her.  His hands began caressing her back gently, massaging her sore arm muscles again.  Everything he did, he did with such tenderness and care, and it was at that moment that she first thought that her attacker could actually be her husband.  “Phillip, is that you?  Let me go.  Stop this, this isn’t funny.” 

If it was her husband, if it was Phillip, he would surely let her go, he knew she was really in control, he knew that whatever she said was the final word.  That belief was shattered when she felt the sting of a sharp slap on her ass.  The pain rattled her sense of reality and traveled up and down her spine.  Phillip would never defy a direct order from her let alone be so aggressive.  She began to panic again.  Had she underestimated this perpetrator?  Reality sunk in and she began to sob uncontrollably.  “Please, please let me go,” she cried.

“Count,” he said.

While Taja was wondering what he intended for her to count, she felt the sharp sting of another blow on her ass.  It took of few seconds for her brain to comprehend and she was able to eek out, “One,” not sure if that was the correct response or not, just going with her gut.  He followed the slap to her ass with soft kisses to her disciplined flesh.  His hands massaged her breasts, rubbed her clit and soothed her sexy round bottom.  She felt decidedly masculine hands caress the tender flesh of her ass.  His hands were kneading her body and gently stroking her thighs and back.  His fingers separated her butt cheeks and he ran them lightly over her asshole.  Taja froze in terror.  The man responsible for her restraint then slid his fingers down to her soaking wet pussy and rubbed her swollen clit.  Taja was pissed, embarrassed, and annoyed at herself for being aroused.  She wanted and needed to regain control so she began talking again, trying to hide her true feelings, begging to be let go. 

The next blow came without warning and she cried out “Owwwww,” as tears formed in her eyes.  She remembered to say “Two,” and lay her head on the pillow as an act of exhaustion, both physical and mental.  What followed was more caressing and more spanking, more fingering and more counting, more tender touches and searing pain combined.  She felt his hands caressing the tender and heated flesh of her ass.  The more he caressed, the wetter her pussy became.  He would rub her sore nipples and spank her butt and thighs.  It was torture; erotic, sensual, heavenly torture.  Her head was reeling; it wasn’t supposed to feel pleasurable.  She wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this.  The stinging was registering in her brain as bliss and she was tormented by the fact that each slap was followed by him gently rubbing her clit to near orgasm.  She began to look forward to each slap, to him bringing her closer and closer to fierce explosion every time.  By the time she got to twenty, she was experiencing each slap as pleasure, each sting was ecstasy.  Her pussy was dripping and her clit was throbbing and she was desperate to cum. 

Without warning, she felt the softness of a tongue licking her soaking wet pussy.  “Noooo, she cried out, not sure why she was saying it; she truly didn’t want him to stop.  She was trying to stop him from having more control over her and the fact that he was teasing her with such expertise.  She was pulling against her restraints, and trying to fight her own orgasm as he licked her from front to back. 

There was no stopping him; he was going to make her cum and cum hard.  She fought it with her mind but her body was betraying her intentions.  She had been so aroused for so long, she was at the brink of sensual release.  Ecstasy washed over her body and his lips gently sucked her clit as his tongue fucked her hole.  He lapped and licked, nibbled and sucked and made her grind her pussy on his face.  She moaned in the pillow and begged him not to stop. 

She felt the head of his dick rubbing her pussy.  She was beyond the point of rational thought.  Like a light switch going off in her head, she realized that the life of control and rules she had lived by were mere illusions.  She wanted to be fucked, fucked good, fucked hard, and fucked long.  She needed to be fucked.  She heard the words coming out of her mouth but they sounded like they were coming from someone else.  They sounded like they were coming from a wounded animal.  “Fuuuuuck meeeee pleeeeease.”

Time froze.  In an instant, the handcuffs were released and a small nightlight was turned on.  She could tell her captor got off the bed and stood back, waiting for her to make a move.  She kept her head in the pillow with her ass in the air, not moving an inch.  She knew she should get up and run but she couldn’t.  She wanted to turn around and see the face of her captor.  She remained frozen.  She said it again, this time aware that she could no longer claim to being forced to do anything.  “Fuck me.”

The ringing in her ears and the desperation in her wet pussy drove her to say the words that she wouldn’t have thought possible two hours earlier.  She felt the head rub from her clit to her asshole and she arched backwards, trying to get him to penetrate her.  She was desperate to feel that sensation of him hitting bottom deep inside her.  She needed to feel full with his hardness, the ecstasy that a woman can only feel when a big hard dick is filling her, stretching her, pounding her.  It was a strange twist of fate that had her craving the very sensation that she had fought all her life to deny.  She wanted to be submissive, to let go of all the stereotypes and standards that told her that she had to be a strong black woman that didn’t put up with anything, that called all the shots.  She realized that her freedom was in letting go, was in letting someone else have the reins of control and it had nothing to do with her being weak, it was simply a shift in power.  She was tired of pretending that she had to be everything to everyone, she was tired of needing to feel like a bitch.  In that moment she wanted to surrender to sensations that she had no control over and she craved that release.

“Say it again,” he said again calmly.

In a surreal declaration, she said the words that released her from her invisible bonds.  “Now! Please! Fuck me!”

With those words, he took the head of his dick and placed it at the head of her asshole.  Anal sex was something she’d done before but it had been a long time ago, with boyfriends that insisted she had to do it to prove that she loved them.  It’d been many years since she even thought about doing it and fear paralyzed her body.  She wasn’t even sure she could take it.  There was no doubt in her mind that it was going to hurt.  Why then, was her body screaming out for this stranger to do it?  She wanted to feel like she was giving him the ultimate symbol of her submission to him. 

Exquisitely slow and with exhausting skill, her captor managed to get the head inserted with no pain at all.  Taja was sweating and her musky scent was reminiscent of a wild animal but it was sexy and primal.  The fact that just the head of his dick was inside her was driving her out of her mind.  She started pushing back and driving more meat inside her backdoor.  The sensation of being filled like that was causing her to grunt and moan.  It was as if she couldn’t breath and every millimeter shoved inside her felt like miles of orgasmic pleasure.  Teeth marks were embedded in the pillowcase and her hands gripped the sheets tightly.  Through it all, he wouldn’t move and inch; he let her control the penetration.  It was only when she reached between her legs to rub her clit that she realized that he was completely buried inside her.  She’d past her threshold of pleasure and it was time for some fast and furious fucking. 

Taja had to grab the headboard to keep her head from being rammed.  In an instant, he was fucking her senseless.  She pushed back; he pumped harder.  Every inch of his dick was driven deep inside her and she adored the sensation.  Rockets went off inside her head and she was outside herself.  Taja was now another person, another woman who had no fears, no inhibitions.  She needed to get fucked and she wasn’t afraid to ask for it all night long.  He grabbed her hips; she rubbed her clit.  He was moaning, she was groaning.  She came without him missing a beat and he kept fucking her through her orgasm.  Sweat formed on both of them and they grunted and groaned like wild animals.  They fucked into the night until Taja passed out from pleasure and exhaustion.

The morning came and sunlight filtered through the blinds.  Taja awoke, her arms and legs and ass were sore.  The smells of eggs and coffee were coming up the stairs.  Phillip entered the room and held out her robe.  “Breakfast is ready.” 

She stood on shaky feet, still weak from the incredible fuck she had gotten and the restraint her body had endured.  “We need to talk . . ." Her words were cut off with the familiar finger that has silenced her the night before. 

Phillip had no words to explain his behavior or his actions.  He, too, had been struggling with his perceived role as doormat versus being a “man” and he had devised this plan to show his wife who was the boss.  While he had done it for her he had come to some personal revelations of his own.  If being the boss meant that he had to be someone that was unnatural to him, he wanted no parts of that.  He stood his ground as he waited for her verbal assault, quite sure she was going to go back to full bitch mode.   

Never having had a previous occasion to be humble, Taja was rendered speechless.  Her journey to self-discovery started with a paralyzing fear and ended with a frightening revelation.  She let Phillip help her on with her robe.  She rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arms around her.  She’d lost a piece of herself and found it in losing control.  There was no turning back, only relinquishing old beliefs in a strange twist of fate.


Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK