Black Mistress-White Bitch Ch. 02

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Once again safe in my own house I breathed a huge sigh of relief. My mind was a whirl as I walked, still topless, towards the bathroom. But, I knew one thing for certain; I would never again confront Angel. I would call the police next time her loud music became unbearable that was definite. Who the hell did the black lit’ bitch think she was dealing with? I was a grown woman and wasn’t about to be treated like some piece of meat especially by a frigging Niger.

But as I got to the bathroom and peeled off my shorts and panties it became quiet apparent just how freaking aroused I was. My skimpy panties were clearly soaked. And I couldn’t rid myself of the vision of Angel’s perfectly form chocolate breasts. As that image faded I was over come by the urge to see the rest of Angel’s luscious body.

I took a soothing bath which help to calm my frayed nerves. Yet, nothing would sooth the desire burning just below the surface between my legs. Over and over imagined images of Angel’s naked form danced before my eyes. I actually caught myself licking my licks as the erotic thoughts tortured my mind.

As I stepped from the tub and began to towel myself dry a horrible idea popped into my head. What was I to do about the video that Angel had made of my debasement? God, I couldn’t tell the police. If they found the tape they’d have to watch it. They’d see my naked titties not to mention my humiliation. It certainly did seem as if I was trapped. Trapped by a black girl nearly half my age. Suddenly the tingling sensation between my legs returned with gusto.

The following few days were a torment all their own. I couldn’t think of Angel without envisioning her magnificent black breasts and their hard nipples. And, with visions of those large and lovely breasts dancing in my head it was impossible to not ponder the black treasure nestled between her legs. At those moments it took all myself control to keep from fingering my pussy. And while I could control my fingers I couldn’t control my body. Thinking of the black girl next door, much to my shame, always resulted in drenched panties.

Days passed without any loud music blaring from Angel’s house. I tried to deny that I cared. I tried to tell myself that I would never go to Angel’s house again anyway. But it was all a lie. The lie that a dirty fucking white whore tells herself when she is trying desperately to deny the truth.

As one day turned into another I found myself actually wishing Angel would turn up her music. Once I even debated about calling her on the cell or better yet knocking on her door. But, no I couldn’t lower myself to that level. At least not yet.

It was four in the afternoon on Thursday when it happened again. THUMP … THUMP … THUMP almost instantly I felt my feminine juices stirring. Setting aside the plate I was drying at the kitchen sink I walked straight to Angel’s front door. I hated myself every step of the way but I just couldn’t say no to my pussy, which was already beginning to tingle.

Grinning broadly Angel met me on her front porch. She wore the most revealing yellow bikini I had ever seen. The bra cups just barely covered her magnificent black breasts and their obliviously hard nipples. The rest of Angel’s chocolate breasts spilled fourth creating a most provocative picture. The bikini bottom was nothing more than a tiny triangle of material which fit love nest like a glove. My lesbian urges surged much to my shame. My leering wasn’t lost on Angel.

Angel’s cold dark eyes scanned me up and down. An amused look appeared on her beautiful black face as she glared at my bare feet. It was at that moment I remembered Angel’s demand that I wear high-heels the next time I visited her house. Honestly I had forgotten.

Right there on her front porch for anyone who might be watching to see Angel bitch slapped me. “You stupid white ho where’s the high heels I ordered you to wear?” God, how I wanted to run away and hide but my legs wouldn’t carry me. A nervous tremor swept through my body. Already the tingle between my legs was turning into a blaze. I dared not to speak a word.

She slapped me hard again then looked at her watch, “You have four minutes, ho, to go home, put on some high heels and get back here if you know what’s good for you.” I was horror struck that Angel would send me back. But I knew that I had better heed her words. I turned and started back down the porch steps, as Angel called out from behind me loud enough for near-by neighbors to hear, “And lose the bra, ho.” I began to walk back towards my house when Angel shouted far to loudly, “You better run, ho, times a TICKING.”

Oh god help me but I did run. Hating myself all the way I ran to my front door and flung it open. As I raced to my bedroom I pulled off the breezy loose fitting top I was wearing and took off my bra. Then I pulled my top back on, leaving the bra lying on the floor. As fast as I could I found my tallest pair of high-heels. I quickly slipped the black four-inch stilettos Maltepe Escort onto my feet. I felt truly stupid wearing heels with my Diem short shorts but that couldn’t be helped.

Then I turned my attention to getting back to Angel’s as quickly as possible. The high heels didn’t allow me to run but I walked just as fast as I could. A thin film of sweat soon covered my body as I hurried out my front door. My heart beat rapidly beneath my bouncing titties. My juices were surging beyond all reason.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” my mind screamed. I reached Angel’s walk and watched helplessly as she openly laughed at my pathetic efforts. Her door was open as I reached the bottom step of her porch. “Times up, ho,” Angel laughed as she stepped into her house and slammed the door closed. Reaching the top of the porch I was just in time to hear the unmistakable metallic CLICK of Angel’s door lock. A moment later Angel’s music was turned down.

I absolutely couldn’t believe what Angel was doing. Surely she couldn’t be serious. May-be, just may-be, I prayed, she wanted to hear me beg. The unbearable throbbing of my pussy told me I was at that level. On god yes, I was in such a wild state of arousal that I would beg; beg for entry into Angel’s world.

I felt shame as I had never felt it before as I franticly knocked on Angel’s door. “Please, please, Angel, let me in,” I pleaded. I couldn’t help but think of what a spectacle I was making of myself. Yet, my words had no meaning to Angel. As I was quickly learning, Angel’s words were all that counted in her cruel world.

Through the closed door I heard Angel say, “Next time you’ll have three minutes to get it right, ho. Three minutes to be on my porch and dressed properly. Now get off my property before I calls the cops.”

Tears began to flow freely down my cheeks as I turned and retreated down the very steps I had just run up. Brokenhearted and with downcast eyes I began the trek home. As I entered my house I absent-mindedly slipped off my high-heels and while not understanding why I left the shoes setting by the front door.

Going back to the kitchen I half-heartedly tried to finish the dishes, which I had so abruptly left just a few minutes earlier. Almost zombie like I wandered through my house puttering with one task or another. Often I caught myself praying that in the next instant I would hear that loud frigging Niger music blasting from Angel’s home. But, alas it wasn’t to be. Feeling lost and forlorn I bathed and found my way to bed just after dark. Dropping the towel which I had wrapped around myself I rummaged through my lingerie draw until I found my favorite baby doll nightie and slipped it over my head.

While I did sleep it wasn’t a restful slumber. I tossed and turned all night long. Twice I even woke-up to find fingers, my fingers, buried deep in my soaked pussy. I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. And, even more worrisome was why I was allowing it to happen.

Bright sunlight was blazing into my bedroom window when I woke less than rested Friday morning. As I got out of bed I glanced at the bedside alarm clock to see that it was already 9:30am. Going through my dresser I picked out my clothes for the day. Absent-mindedly I stepped into a pair of sheer blue thong style panties. Then I found a pair of my trademark blue jean short shorts and put them on as well. Not really giving it any thought I decided to go braless for the day. A burning wave of shame swept over me as I realized I was going braless simply to placate that lit’ Niger Angel. I found a simple sleeveless pink top with deep V neckline, which I pulled on over my head. The top was cropped short and simply hung from my titties leaving my hard belly bare. Per usual I ignored shoes preferring to remain barefoot in doors.

I passed the day drinking coffee and doing household chores. Often I found myself straining my ears to hear Angel’s frigging music. But I silent moment turned into another and then another without a sound from Angel’s house. My sprites fell even further as 4PM came and went with out one tiny peep from Angel’s house. I had prayed all day long that Angel would turn her ungodly music on at 4 as she had the day before.

Losing all hope I walked to the kitchen and fixed myself a sandwich and walked back to the living room. Picking up a book I curled up on the sofa to eat and read. The sandwich soon vanished but I quickly found I couldn’t concentrate on reading as every other minute I would look up to check the time on the mantel clock. Each time I checked the clock I would issue a silent pray that Angel would blast her music at 5PM. Five O’clock came and went without a sound from next door. Then six and seven passed and with each passing minute my heart fell a bit deeper into despair.

The book had long ago slipped from my grasp as tears trickled down my cheeks. I had never in my life felt such dejection and loneliness.

I looked at the mantel clock at 7:12PM Kurtköy Escort and like a bolt of lighting out of the blue Angel’s music began to blast louder than I had ever heard it. I was certain the THUMPING bass beat could be felt and heard two streets away. The unholy noise was so sudden that I nearly jumped out of my skin as I leaped to my feet.

My mind whirled with Angel’s words, “Three minutes, three minutes, three fucking minutes that was all the time I had to be standing on Angel’s front porch”. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” my mind raced as I scurried franticly looking for my black high-heels. “Ohhh god,” my mind screamed louder than the pounding music, “where the fuck did I leave my heels?” My thoughts tortured me, “Three minutes, three minutes, three fucking minutes, times ticking.” Finally I remembered. I had left the black heels by my front door. I literally ran to my front door. After slipping the heels onto my feet I nearly tore the front door off its hinges as I yanked it open. Pulling the door closed behind me I franticly walk ran as fast as my high-heels would allow, towards Angel’s house. I could feel my braless titties bouncing wildly under my abbreviated top.

Once again Angel was standing on her front porch grinning as she looked at her watch. She was wearing the same skimpy yellow bikini she had worn the day. And her lush black body was just as inviting. God, how I prayed that I had beaten her time limit. Breathlessly I raced up the porch steps to stand right in front of Angel. My heart pounded and my titties heaved, as Angel slowly looked me up and down. As Angel inspected me I couldn’t help but admire her beautiful black body. She had all the features of an African Goddess. Angel noticed my leer and a second later my right cheek was burning from yet another of her powerful bitch slaps. “Don’t you ever look at my beautiful body again without permission, you fat assed cracker ho. You aint earned the privilege.” Instantly I diverted my eyes downward. “Now do what you gotta do, ho,” Angel emphasized her words by bitch slapping my other cheek. I understood instantly what Angel meant.

Recovering from the stinging slaps I walked past Angel into her house, making sure to keep my eyes lowered. As I walked to the stereo I had to walk around the camera tripod and it’s camcorder, which Angel hadn’t even tried to conceal this time. I turned the volume down on the unholy Niger music just as I did the first time I had been in Angel’s house.

Turning around I kept my eyes on the floor and could only hear Angel close and lock the front door. I stood absolutely still with my arms hanging by my sides as Angel began to speak. “I knew you were nothing but a fucking white ho bitch the first time I saw you,” Angel jeered. Judging from the sound of her words I could tell she was moving towards me. For the first time since entering the house I felt my pussy’s burning flame. With my eyes on the floor I saw Angel’s feet as she came very near me. A second later I felt Angel’s hand on my left upper arm as she began to lead me towards what I presumed to be the middle of the room. “Stand right there, ho,” Angel demanded coldly. Then I heard Angel make herself comfortable in a nearby chair, which faced me.

“NOW we BOTH know that your nothing but a piece of fucking white thrash don’t we, ho?” Angel cooed brightly.

I understood completely what Angel wanted to hear yet I couldn’t bring myself to say the hateful words. That is until Angel warned, “Don’t make me hurt you again, cunt. You know I will.” Then in a tone filled with sinister sarcastic Angel added, “And ya should know I just love to hurt dirty white hos like you.” As she finished I again heard Angel laugh wickedly.

I was instantly overwhelmed with fear, “No … no please, you don’t have to hurt me.”

My body trembled as I heard Angel stand and move towards me. “Don’t you dare move, ho,” Angel hissed. “I hate to repeat myself.” She then delivered the most powerful bitch slap she had ever given me. My head snapped to the side and then she backhanded me all in a split second. “Now answer my question you fucking honkie, ho.”

Again my mind whirled as I had nearly forgotten Angel’s filthy question. Finally on the very brink of disaster her words came streaming back to me and I answered, “Yes …yes, we BOTH know that I am nothing but. but a piece … of fucking … a piece of fucking white thrash.”

Satisfied Angel returned to her seat. “Yea, YOU ARE and you’re my ho aint you, slut?”

Without even thinking I responded to Angel’s ugly words, “Yee.. yes .. yes I’m your whore.”

Angel laughed as she continued, “Now gets naked you white assed ho.” Then she warned loudly “DO IT NOW, SLUT. DON”T MAKE ME GET OUT OF THIS CHAIR AGAIN.”

My body shook visibly as I knew she meant every word. With trembling hands I pulled off my top then stepped out of my shorts. Knowing that the slightest protest on my part would be dealt with severely I didn’t even pause Kartal Escort before peeling my thong panties down my legs and then stepping out of them. As soon as I was completely naked I stood upright again. The idea of trying to use my hands to cover my nudity flashed through my mind but was just as quickly discarded. Certainly, even an attempt to cover myself would only raise the level of Angel’s anger.

“Lock your lazy ass white fingers behind your head, ho,” Angel demanded. Silently I obeyed. “Pull your elbows back, cunt, push those fucking white titties out like your proud of them pearly white fuckbags and spread them fucking legs too.” With my eyes still lowered I obeyed Angel’s every word. Pulling my elbows back until they were almost even with my shoulders. I hated myself the whole time for being so freaking weak. I spread my high-heel clad feet at least four feet apart. I couldn’t help but feel like a freaking white whore on display. “But,” I thought to myself, “that’s all I am, a fucking weak white whore, a fucking weak white whore on display.” Angel wasn’t pleased with the spread of my feet and ordered me to spread them even further apart. I spread them another six inches but still Angel wasn’t pleased. I moved my feet another six inches and then another until I thought I was about to split in two. Finally, Angel seemed pleased with my position, at least she wasn’t threatening to hurt me anymore.

As I stood there naked, wearing only my black high heels, in the middle of Angel’s living room I could feel Angel’s lovely dark eyes burning into my white skin as she scanned me from head to toe. In my awkward position I trembled as I thought that if it wasn’t Angel’s eyes burning my skin it must be the eye of the near by camcorder.

After several minutes of unbroken silent I sensed Angel moving about the room. My unnatural position became harder to hold by the second as my ankles and the backs of my calves began to ache without mercy. Yet I couldn’t move without risking Angel’s anger, a risk I wasn’t prepared to take.

Then from the corner of my lowered eyes I was able to see Angle as she approached me. Standing only a step or two in front of me. My naked and totally exposed body shivered with apprehension. “Your my fucking ho aint you, slut?” I could feel the black girl’s spit spatter my face as she hissed her demeaning words.

I hesitated only the briefest of seconds yet it was a split second to long. Angel hesitated not at all as she bitch slapped with the speed of a lightening bolt. The blow was so powerful I couldn’t help but stumble backwards. As quickly as I regained my balance I resumed my position. Tears once more began to leak down my cheeks as Angel began to scream, “ANWSER ME CUNT … THAT IS ALL YOU DO … ANSWER ME INSTANTLY … YOU DONE NEEDS TO THINK … ALL YOU GOTTA TO DO IS ANSWER ME.” Then she continued in a somewhat calmer voice, “Now answer my question you old freaking white cow before I really hurt you.”

Damn near before Angel’s word’s had ended I began to stammer, “Yeaaa … yes … yes I’m your fucking whore.” I surprised myself that I had even remembered the question, my head was spinning so.

With the same lightening quickness as before Angel bitch slapped me again with the same agonizing results. As soon as I regained my defenseless position Angel started screaming again, “YOU AINT NO WHORE YOUR A HO. Nothing but a fucking white assed ho.”

Instantly I was responding to the mean words, “YES … yes …yes … I’m your fucking ho … your fucking white assed ho.”

As my body again quaked with fear the beautiful 21 year old black girl began to lecture me as if I were a child instead of a mature 34 year old woman.” Reaching a hand out Angle began to gently rake her lovely French cut nails over my left tittie. My helpless nipple stiffened just as quickly as its sister had done earlier. “As, my ho,” Angel continued to lecture still raking her nails over my tittie, “you have a few lessons to learn.” Ever so slowly Angel began to dig her nails into my tittie, “You got to learn to show respect. You do respect me don’t you, cunt?” As she spoke Angel continued to slowly apply pressure to my tittie, digging her sharp nails deeper and deeper in my soft helpless flesh.

“YES … yes I respect you.”

“Good,” Angel smirked. “From this minute forward you will refer to me as Your Mistress … your Black Mistress.” Angel paused for a moment then laughed out loud, “Better yet you will refer to me as your Niger Mistress. Understand, ho?”

Instantly I responded, “Yes, I understand.”

Before I had completed my sentence Angle dug her nails deeper into the tittie flesh surrounding my poor nipple. I groaned miserably as Angel squeezed so hard I began to worry that she was going to rip my helpless nipple right off. The agony was nearly unbearable. I twisted my torso but that only increased the scalding pain as Angel held my innocent nipple in a vice like grip.


Though my agony I tried again, “Mistress, Mistress. Ye … yes I understand Mistress.”

“NO YOU DON’T,” Angel hissed as she dug her nails ever deeper into my nipple flesh and twisted. “I AM YOUR NIGER MISTRESS. NOW SAY IT YOU FUCKING WHITE CUNT HO.”

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