Amazon dot cum Ch.5
by Couture
email: couture_writes@hotmail.com
(FF, denial, humiliation)
Please do not read if under 18 years of age or offended by sexually explicit
stories and situations.
(c) 2003 Couture
***********
The next morning brought the harsh reality of my situation home. The buzz was
gone and I was left with a headache and the worst case of cotton mouth ever.
When I saw the clock, my heart sped, as I threw on my clothes quickly, knowing
that I was running late and that I would be changing again at Thandi's anyway.
It wasn't until I was leaving that I remembered the cum. . .
Jesus, it seemed so different last night. I felt proud of it -- proud that
there was so much of it.
But now I was only feeling shame and humiliation as I snuck the container from
the freezer into my purse. I thought of leaving it, or better yet, throwing it
away, but I knew deep down that I couldn't face Miss Moore. I mean, what if
she made me start over at the beginning again? No, anything but that.
***********
I sped on the way to Thandi's house, and ran to her door, just making it in
time.
"You're pushing it," she said, as she opened the door and looked down at her
watch.
"Sorry, ma'am."
"Did you bring it?"
My insides lurched. I had hoped she would forget. I should have known better.
"It's in my purse."
"Good," Thandi said. "Give it to me. Now, take off your clothes - hurry hurry
we're running late."
I stripped quickly, but evidently not quickly enough, because Thandi took off
her small leather belt swatted my ass and thighs until I stood naked in front
of her, save for the chastity belt.
"Now get dressed," Thandi said. "Your clothes are on the bed."
Slap! Slap! Slap! Again she took swats at me with the belt all the way into
the bedroom. The licks weren't exactly painful, but they didn't feel good
either. Nor did the licks give me time to ponder the tiny thong, the sheer
push-up bra, the stockings, or the scandalously thin outfit she had selected
for me.
I threw them on and did my best to pull down the hem of the skirt to cover my
stocking tops. She couldn't seriously expect me to wear this to work, could
she?
Thandi stood there and threw her arms wide. "Now you look professional," she
said.
A professional? Not a systems engineer, more likely the kind of profession you
see on a street corner. I needed a mirror to see how bad my outfit was, but I
didn't get the opportunity.
"Come on girl, don't just stand there, get in the car, we have work to do,"
Thandi said.
I teetered to the car on the too high heels. When I sat down in the car seat,
my skirt rode up, exposing my panties and stockings. To my dismay, no matter
what I tried, I couldn't cover them. I knew from the start it was going to be
a bad day.
************
We arrived at work, and after we parked the car, Thandi took my chin and turned
my face towards hers. "One final touch," she said, taking out a pencil and
tube of lipstick. She outlined my lips with the pencil and applied the
lipstick. Afterwards, she handed me a tissue to blot them. I looked down at
the tissue. Lord, my lips were crimson red!
"Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life," Thandi said with a smile.
"Let's go knock 'em dead."
Easy for her to say, she wasn't the one on display!
I got out of the car and pulled the too short skirt down so that it covered the
tops of my stockings. I made a mental note to keep them covered.
We walked to the building. It felt much longer today than ever before. Maybe
because it was harder to walk in the heels, but more than likely it was due to
the ultimate humiliation I was to face. I still hadn't seen myself, except
for a brief glance of my reflection in the car mirror. It wasn't until I met
Sheila and her eyes opened in shock that I knew how outlandish I looked.
I could feel the heat from my blush burning in my cheeks. I looked down at the
ground so I wouldn't have to look anyone in the eye.
"Don't look down there," Thandi said. "You're my girl, so be proud of it.
Head up. Back straight. Look 'em in the eye and smile."
Back straight meant chest out and my breasts were bouncing badly enough as it
was. My nipples pointed at like flashing headlights. I didn't think I could
do it, but I tried to imagine I was a Hollywood actress going onstage to get an
award. It must have worked. It was amazing watching the men we met go out of
their way to hold open the doors for us.
************
Later that morning, Thandi called me to her office.
"I need to relieve a little stress," Thandi said. "But before we begin I want
to do a few exercises with you. You know, to keep you straight."
"But I am strai-" I protested.
Thandi put her fingers to my lips, silencing me. "Shhhh," she said. "Listen,
I understand. It's okay."
"But-"
She put her finger to my lips again and patted my hair as if I were some sort
of pet. I felt my anger rising.
"I understand completely and I don't blame you. Maslow said that people try to
meet their primary needs first. You know, like food, shelter, etc. And let's
face it; I'm the one meeting those needs for you, not your husband. It's
perfectly understandable how you could lose your sexual identity."
It made sense in some sort of vague way, but I loved my husband and I wasn't a
lesbian. So, Maslow, whoever that was, must be wrong.
She reached in her purse and pulled out the container that I had filled with my
husband's semen. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "And while your husband
seems to have plenty of spunk," she snickered. "His dickie doesn't seem have
the ah-how should I say it? Staying power."
Thandi reached back into the bag. "And that's why I got you this," and with a
flourish she pulled out a large dildo - a very large *black* dildo. "It's
about average size, wouldn't you say?"
I could only nod my head in wonder. If this was average, then Bill must be
tiny. It was much larger than him both in length and girth. Lord all mighty,
I bet it could make me cum again and again.
"You don't mind the color do you? It was mine, you understand. You're not
racist or anything are you?"
"No, ah-I don't mind," I replied hesitantly, looking up at her from between her
spread thighs. Just take this chastity belt off and I'll show you just how
straight I can be. I was going to fuck myself silly on her big dildo.
Miss Moore took the monstrous black cock and wedged it in the V of her crotch,
which puzzled me. How was I going to mount it? Next, she removed a spoon from
the bag, dipped it in the container of semen and dolled the contents out on
top of the black dildo. "Go on girl get started."
Get started? I looked back up at her quizzically. She couldn't possibly mean.
. .
"If that shit hits my thighs, you lose a cum . . . maybe two or three."
Oh God, she did mean it. I felt my anger rising, burning as she fanned the
flames. I wanted to slap her and walk out on her. I wanted my life back. I
wanted a lot of things . . .but I NEEDED to cum. I couldn't start over again.
I quickly bent forward to lick it off, but she stopped me with a hand to my
forehead. "You *suck* a dick. God, you white bitches can be so stupid
sometimes."
My husband's cum was trailing further and faster down the cock. I didn't have
to think and there was no way I was going to lose a cum. Not after everything
I had already done.
I opened my mouth and sucked the rubber prick, but it was too big and long for
me to get the stream of semen that was running down the base. I sucked at it
again, making a loud slurp at the bottom, and was able to capture the errant
stream.
I lifted off to make sure none had contacted her chocolate thighs. Thankfully,
they were still pristine.
"You missed some," she said, pointing at a white ring of cum, just beyond where
my lips were able to reach.
I tried again, the head of the dildo hitting the back of my throat, before I
was able to clean it. As I lifted off, I gagged, coughing and crying between
her thighs.
"Not a very good cocksucker are you? You sure sounded better at it last night.
Well, don't worry, we have plenty of time to practice." She dipped the spoon
in the container again and ladled out another dollop of bitter cream. "Now
repeat after me. I'm a heterosexual woman and I have no wish to lick Miss
Moore's pussy."
The woman was demented. Thoroughly and absolutely deranged. I hated her and
the hate made it easy to join in her madness.
"I'm a heterosexual woman and I have no wish to lick Miss Moore's pussy," I
repeated with a growl and went down on the cock again.
"That's a girl," Thandi said, grabbing my ears and pushing me up and down the
black cock, forcing me to blow it. "Up and down, up and down, suck it you
little cocksucker. Let me hear you suck it like you did it last night. Come
on you white bitch, suck that black cock."
I obeyed, not once thinking that someone could come to the door and hear us. I
slurped, I swallowed, I hummed, and I fucked the thick prick like I meant it.
Making certain she knew what my sexual orientation was.
I closed my eyes, so I wouldn't have to look at her sex, and tried to imagine
my husband Bill, but it was impossible. Every time, I opened my eyes, I saw
the large black cock. Nothing like that could ever belong to my husband.
Nor, could I get the musky smell of her sex out of my head or the thought of
where the dildo had been earlier. It was hers. Surely she had used it.
She lifted up on my hooped ears, pulling me off the cock. She dolled out
another spoonful of semen. "Remember to say it."
"I'm a heterosexual woman and I have no wish to lick Miss Moore's pussy."
But I did. God help me I did. For the next thirty minutes I sat between her
legs and blew the fake cock, the whole time smelling her and wondering what it
would be like to taste her.
And Thandi was turned on too. I could tell from the way she was breathing and
the slight shifting of her hips . . . the smell of her musk. Her pussy was
just out of my reach, the cock parting her nether lips.
I couldn't help myself, no matter what I said, or what I wanted, deep down
inside, I wanted her. I wanted to taste her. A few times, I tried to swallow
the cock, just so I could press my face to her crotch. It always caused me to
end up gagging and coughing, but she didn't seem to mind.
Finally, I was able to do it. The dildo was lodged uncomfortably in my throat,
but my cheeks were planted firmly on her thighs, my nose buried in the curly
tangle of her pubic hair. I moaned to make sure she noticed.
"Oh," she gasped. "You've done it, haven't you slut. You've swallowed my big
black cock all the way to the bottom." She thrust her hips against it several
times before spreading her legs wide and tossing the dildo to the side. "God,
you've got me so turned on. Fuck me now. Finger fuck my pussy you dirty white
cocksucker."
While, I worked her pussy with my fingers, my own cunt was afire with sexual
heat beneath the confines of my chastity belt. She leaned confidently back in
her chair, with her widespread legs propped on her desk, as I worked
diligently between them, fucking her with my two fingers, fingernails trimmed
for the task. With my other hand, I manipulated her clit, occasionally
teasing it with my long nails.
"That's it. Oh! God, you are good at this my nimble fingered pussy girl.
Come on, look at my face, not my pussy. Don't start turning queer on me yet
girl."
But, the sight of her aroused sex was like a magnet to my eyes. It was so wet
and swollen from her arousal. A plump apricot, ripe for the eating. She was
my forbidden fruit. Her fingers were hooked through my earrings, drawing me
close; so close I could hear the wet sounds of my fingers thrusting in her and
smell the spicy musk of her scent. I could practically taste it. God, was she
right? Was I turning gay?
Looking up at her from between her long legs wasn't much better. She looked so
strong, so powerful there in her business attire. I imagined her pushing me
over her desk and taking me from the rear with the dildo that lay discarded on
the floor.
"That's it girl. That's it. Oh God, you are going to make me cum so fucking
hard," Thandi moaned. "Fuck- fuck-that's it. Whatever you do, don't stop.
That's it girl, that's it. Fuck-fuck-fuck-ah-I'm-cumming. . ."
Her hips bucked and I could feel her squeezing my fingers. She leaked like a
faucet. I had done it. I had made her cum and it looked like a good one. One
that could bring me closer to my own satisfaction.
"Taste my cum - taste my cum - you queer white dyke," she gasped, her
executive's chair squeaking in time to the thrusting of her hips.
I went to kiss her sex, only to be tugged away and up by my hair. As my head
was tilted back, I could see it, the container of cum in her hand. She was
pouring it already.
I did the only thing I could to keep from getting it all over my face. I
opened my mouth as wide as I could and even stuck out my tongue in order to
capture all my husband's semen.
"Oh my God," she groaned. "You are so *nasty*. Such a dirty little cunt.
Spread my pretty pussy. That's a girl, spread it wide open."
I spread her sex. Her pussy gaping and so pink in the middle.
"Now tell me your little saying," she said with a smirk.
"I-I am a heterosexual woman and I have no desire to lick Miss Moore's pussy."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," I lied. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks.
"Are you positive?"
I looked down unable to answer.
"Let's find out." She picked up the phone and made a call. "To whom am I
speaking? Hello Bill, this is going to sound weird but I was wondering if you
could help me and my friend settle a bet?"
Bill? Oh my God, the bitch had called my husband. Butterflies danced in my
stomach.
"Here's the deal. You see my girlfriend, who's not too bright has gotten a
little behind on her bills and she needs fifty rand. Yes, she needs it quite
badly. So I told her if she licked my pussy, I would give her the fifty. You
following me so far Billy boy?
"Good. She told me she wasn't a whore, so I told her, hey why don't we call a
random person from the phone book and if they want you to lick my pussy, I give
you twenty-five rand instead. Otherwise, I give her a hundred. This way,
she isn't a whore - she's either a slut or a very lucky girl, because a whore
would never lick pussy for twenty-five rand and a lucky girl doesn't have to
do anything to get the hundred.
So, which is she Bill? A slut or a lucky girl? And before you answer, I'll
tell you what, since I'm feeling *real* generous. Whatever happens, I'll let
you listen.
Oh yes? I thought so. Here, I want you to tell her yourself; maybe she can
get you to change your mind."
I took the phone with my shaking hands and held it to my ear. There was no way
I could try to change his mind if it was Bill. He would recognize my voice.
"Uh-hum?" I hummed to disguise my voice.
"Lick her pussy you stupid cunt," the voice on the phone barked.
It was Bill! God, what was this woman capable of? And why Bill why? Why
would you betray me like this?
Miss Moore took the phone from my ear and placed the receiver above her sex.
She was going to make me do it. Right her in the office, with my husband on
the phone.
"You heard the man," she said. "Lick my pussy."
She frowned at my hesitation. "Come on *Candy*. Do it."
She emphasized Candy. She could have easily called me Tracy and sold me out.
She could still just as easily call me Tracy. I would have done it for her if
she had asked. I admit I was curious, I had been tempted by her and somehow
attracted to her despite the awful way she treated me. But, I didn't want to
do it, especially not like this. Not will my husband on the phone listening.
Instead of letting me decide on my own, Thandi took matters in her own hands.
Literally. She grabbed my nose between her thumb and forefinger and pulled me
into her sex, using my mouth like some sort of masturbation device.
I couldn't resist. I opened my mouth and tasted her. Dear Lord, I even licked
her.
Thandi switched the phone to her ear. "She's doing it Billy-by. Can you hear
her? She's licking my pussy - ugh - for only twenty-five rand." To me: "Here
slut, let the man hear you suck on my pussy," she said, switching the phone
next to my mouth.
I could hear Bill's throaty mutterings on the phone. "This is so hot. This is
so goddamned hot," he said.
The bastard was jacking off. I was furious. I wouldn't even be in this
position if it wasn't for him and he was jerking off while I was on my knees.
Worse, he was going to cum while I wasn't. I couldn't stop him, but I was
going to make him pay. I was going to give Miss Moore much more pleasure than
he would ever get with his hand.
I sucked on her clit with a loud slurping sound. It vibrated between my lips.
I moved down to her opening and did the same, drinking of her nectar. I stuck
my tongue as far up her cunt as I could get it. I did every dirty thing I
could imagine. I didn't care. I just wanted Bill to pay.
I knelt between her dark thighs, my tongue rolling her clit around, as I looked
into her dark eyes. She was talking on the phone again.
"Oh Bill, you would not believe how soft her tongue is. She's really giving my
clit a work-out." To me: "Shove those fingers in my pussy while you lick me
little Pussy-girl. God I love your hot little mouth. Why didn't I do this
sooner?"
Thandi ran her fingers through my hair while I pleasured her. She took her
legs off the desk and draped them over my back, holding my head firmly between
her thighs.
"Mmmm- I'm getting close now Bill. Before I do, let me tell you the best part.
My new Pussy-pet is a white girl. That's right, this little white girlie is
licking my beautiful black pussy for only twenty-five rand."
I heard a click on the phone and then it clattered to the floor. Miss Moore
grabbed me by the back of my head, gave a groan, and began to buck her hips
against my helpless face. I couldn't even breathe. I just held on for dear
life.
Finally, she released me.
She seemed dazed and weakened. I seized the opportunity. "Miss Moore, there's
something I need to talk to you about" I began, after gathering up my courage.
I needed to talk with her desperately. This couldn't go on. Not like this. I
thought I could handle things, but these things she was doing were more
perverted and more subversive than I ever imagined.
"Tracy-girl," she said. "You've got fifteen seconds to get out of my office or
I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish those pretty little titties of yours."
"One-two-three," she counted.
Argh! The bitch wasn't even going to listen to me. I hurried to get dressed.
Thankfully, my stockings had elastic tops. I didn't bother to fasten them to
my garters. I put on the tiny thong and the pushup bra, followed by the dress
and heels. I fumbled with the strap to the heels. She was already at
seventeen, by the time I was smoothing down the too short dress.
"You didn't make it," she stated. "I'm very disappointed in you."
"I'm sorry." Tears were already welling in my eyes. "Please give me another
chance."
"What are you crying for?" she said. "A slut you like you will probably enjoy
it." She got up from her seat and advanced on me. I backed into the door, but
she pressed closer, taking my nipples between her fingers. The thin fabric of
the dress offered little protection.
She teased my hardened nubs, circling and lightly pinching them. The feeling
was sublime. But then when I least expected it, she would grab hold of my
tiny nibs and jerk. Dear Lord, it hurt, but it also sent a stab a pleasure
straight to my cunt.
Miss Moore continued this torture until my legs grew weak and I began to slide
down the door. I whimpered and moaned as she continued her manipulations.
"Yes, a slut like you will probably love it."
She smirked, reached into her breast pocket, and pulled out several bills.
"Raise your skirt."
I pulled the tight skirt up, exposing my panties.
"Do it again. This time, put some hip into it. Dance for it. Earn it."
I let my skirt fall, then took the hem and repeated the process, this time
swinging my hips from side to side as if I were a stripper - a prostitute - or
her slut. My humiliation was complete when she tucked the bills, the
twenty-five rand into the band of my panties. I yearned to feel the touch of
it against my sex, but all I felt was the steel confines of the chastity belt.
"You earned it," she said. She reached beneath her skirt, I thought for a
moment she was masturbating again. It wouldn't have surprised me, the bitch
was insatiable. But when her hand came back out, it was slick with her
juices, but it also held a small golden pussy. The kind I needed to earn an
orgasm. "You also earned this." She went to hand it to me, but it slipped
from her fingers, and fell to the floor.
"How clumsy of me," she smirked condescendingly.
She made no move to get it, so I bent down to retrieve it. I had to. I needed
to cum more than anything.
"Did I say to let go of your skirt?"
"No Miss." I dropped down to my knees. The edge of the golden cat reflected
from the bottom of her black pumps. I realized I would need my hands to get at
the little cat. "Ma'am, may I use my hands?"
"I'm sure you can figure something out, yes?"
Yes, I'm sure I could, but I didn't want to. I only wanted to cum, not to be
humiliated in this fashion. I pressed my face close to her pump and pulled at
the tiny trinket with my lips. Her foot wouldn't budge. "Please Miss," I
begged.
She raised her foot up, but moved it directly over the golden cat. I was
forced to work it out with my tongue and picked it up with my lips. It tasted
of her sex and was gritty from the dirt that stuck to it. Afterwards, I
struggled to get back to my feet, without using my hands.
"You're learning," she said. "Now lower your skirt and go get yourself cleaned
up."
I went to open the door. "Did I say you could move your hands?"
"No ma'am." Tears welled in my eyes.
She opened the door for me. "Keep those hands where they are until you get to
the restroom and let me see you shake those hips."
Thankfully, it wasn't far to the restroom. Only about twenty meters. It was
the longest twenty meters I had ever walked, shaking my hips like a whore, my
erect breasts threatening to fall from my dress, and carrying a golden pussy
in my mouth.
When I got to the bathroom, I immediately spit out the cat, pocketed it and
adjusted my skirt. The door to one of the stalls opened and startled me. It
was Gina.
"Are you okay?" she asked, coming entirely too close for comfort.
"I'm fine. I just need a moment . . . in privacy please." I didn't mean to be
snippy, but I couldn't let her discover the obvious source of my distress.
"It's okay," she put her hand on my shoulder. "Tell me what happened. Did
that black bitch chew you out?"
Her eyes widened as she looked at me closer, my disheveled clothes, my damp
face. She put her face near mine and inhaled. "My God, you chewed her out
didn't you? Or maybe *ate* is the better word."
"No," I said, blushing deeply. I hurriedly washed my face. "You're crazy,
Gina. You know I'm married."
"But, you did it didn't you? You ate her. Don't lie, I can smell it," she
said. "Don't worry I won't tell anyone. Besides, she's been much nicer -
almost human lately. We've been thinking she was getting some dick. We never
imagined . . ."
Almost human? She had no idea who she was dealing with. No, Miss Moore wasn't
even close to human. She was a demoness, a black demoness, sent to earth to
enslave and corrupt. "You girls need to spend less time gossiping and more
time working. Starting now."
"And is this why the change in wardrobe?" Gina continued. "The rumor was that
you had taken up with one of the young programmers. My God, I guess this is
as good a way as any to get a good appraisal. I just never imagined you with a
woman. A black no less. I don't see how you do it - you know, with the smell
and all."
"Miss Moore smells just fine, thank you and so do I. Now get to work before I
have write you up," I warned her.
Gina turned her nose up at me. As if I was suddenly beneath her. The little
bitch. Evidently, she needed a reminder of who was the supervisor around here.
She turned on her heel and walked out. I heard her mumbling under her breath.
"My God, with a woman . . . with a *black* woman," as the door closed.
Shit, there was no help for it. I made up my face again, and I did my best to
smooth down the nubs of my nipples that were sticking out from my blouse, but I
could do nothing about the longing need I saw I my eyes. I need I prayed would
be satisfied soon.
I returned to work praying Gina would keep her big mouth shut.
To be continued. . .
***********
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