Deconstructing the Professor

"Beg for it, slut," the unknown cock demanded.

I begged, my mind on sexual cruise control, "Fuck my wet cunt, fill me with cum, baby, I'm your victory whore."

He finally obliged, hammering my cunt with quick deep thrusts. My moans increased along with his pace, and this faceless stranger and I shared a lengthy glory hole fuck, neither of us willing to end it by coming. Eventually I began bouncing back to meet this thrusts, wanting to feel him deeper inside me, frustrated by the damn wall preventing this glorious cock from filling me entirely like I desperately needed. I don't know how long he pumped his perfect pecker in me before I finally felt the tide rise and then crash down, as another orgasm cascaded through me. Feeling my juice exploding on his cock was the trigger he needed, as he buried a load of cum deep inside my pussy. Once he pulled out, I fell onto my knees, my hunched body aching from the recent position and exercise.

Madison laughed. "You don't think you're done yet, do you?"

"No Mistress, I just need to change positions."

"Well, another cock is waiting for you," she pointed.

This time I was staring at a shriveled cock that clearly belonged to one of the middle-aged coaches. I returned to the stool and took the flaccid cock in my mouth. Having climaxed, my knees sore, my jaw aching, I just wanted this to end. So I bobbed up and down on the smallish cock quickly, and wasn't surprised to feel my mouth coated with a few dribbles of cum in only a couple of minutes.

"Last cock," a male voice called from the other side of the wall.

Madison smiled, "Do you want that plug out of your ass, slut?"

"Yes, Mistress," I replied, my ass aching as well.

"Then replace the plug with that nice white cock waiting for you."

The final cock of the night was a nice wide nine-inch white cock, and I obeyed my orders. I stood up, pulled out the plug that had been lodged in my ass all day, and awkwardly backed up to the wall. Getting the cock in my ass was easier than into my pussy because I was so well gaped and because of the better angle and I slid back, allowing the cock to slip easily into my black ass. Once it was inside me, I began bouncing back on the white stick, having forgotten how good a cock felt in my ass. As I got into a decent rhythm, my left hand began rubbing my clit, eager to get off again, this time during an ass fucking. I was startled when I felt a tongue on my pussy, and I opened my eyes to see Stacey lapping at my cunt. The double sensation of a tongue on my cunt and a cock in my ass was amazing, a first-time experience, and it brought me new thrills of pleasure. I don't know how long I bounced back on the stranger's cock before I heard him grunt and felt his cum fill my ass. I continued fucking my ass on him, as I was close too. When he pulled out, I fell to the floor, pulled Stacey by the air and began fucking her face and in the throes of lust demanded, "Get me off, Nigger."

Her tongue did wonders, and in less than a minute I reached one last humiliating orgasm.

Exhausted, sore and disgraced, I looked up at Madison and the camera that was still filming, reached some fingers back to my ass and scooped up some of the cum leaking out of it, and put it in my mouth, performing for the camera. I'd hit a new rock-bottom, and strangely I loved it.

Once the camera was turned off, I apologized to Stacey for my harsh treatment and name calling, but she just shrugged in her required silence, even though I could tell she'd been shocked by a fellow woman of colour using the N word on her.

Madison chuckled and pointed out, "But that's what she is, a Nigger just like you are, Felicia."

*****

At home, exhausted, I went for my sex journal and wrote about my bizarre, yet oddly liberating evening:

I have become a total, unconditional slut. I am mortified by my actions, and yet remembering everything I did today, my cunt still burns, wanting more. Why can't I say no? Why? Why? Why?

What is to become of me?

26. A FIFTH BRIEF INTERLUDE INTO THE MIND OF KEISHA JEFFERSON: A SECOND DREAM

Every night that week I began dreading going to bed, each night experiencing a different dream, but each with a similar theme. In one way or another I would eagerly submit to Madison and became her submissive pet. She'd call me insulting names, humiliate me and make me beg to please her, and each time it got me hornier and hornier, and I submitted like a cheap two-bit whore.

Yet, each time I woke up in a sweat, my pussy leaking, and I'd come in my sleep from yet another humiliating submission dream.

During my final night in the hotel I had my most mortifying dream.

I'm on my knees in all-white lingerie, and beside me is my mother, also on her knees and also all in diaphanous white. In front of us stands Madison, and Mom and I are vying for the privilege of serving her. Madison tells us, "We're going to have a game, and whoever wins gets to be my pet tonight, but the loser gets a humiliating punishment."

I glare at Mom, who looks back at me at first with compassion, but upon seeing my glare, shifts it to dogged determination.

Madison tells us, "You two Niggers are going to eat each other out, and the first one to get the other off wins. There's only one rule: there are no rules. Get the other incestuous slut off any way you can, and you win. And trust me, you really do want to win."

I don't even wait to hear Madison say start, and I'm on top of my mother, pinning her to the floor while my free hand slides into her wet cunt. I begin fingering her furiously while she wiggles and tries desperately to escape from my grasp. I'm only able to hold her in place for a couple of minutes before she breaks free and glares at me with a fierce anger I'd never seen from my meek mother. She surprises me by grabbing my shoulders, spinning my upper body around her own lower torso so I can't help falling to the floor. She lands on top of me, but I manage to roll out from under her, and we both rise to our knees to begin wrestling in earnest. It's ludicrous, these two big-breasted broads straining and twisting against each other trying to gain an advantage, but knowing her sinister mind, we both fear the punishment Madison is promising the loser. After a lengthy struggle, Mom ends up with her ass lodged solidly on my face, her knees on my arms, and she leans forward and begins spanking my clit. I manage to clamp my legs on her hand and twist myself forcefully sideways, tumbling her onto her side. She lets out a yelp as she bangs her arm against the hardwood floor, and instead of showing any mercy or concern for the woman who gave me birth, I take advantage of her moment of vulnerability to flip her onto her belly and lie on top of her. I spread her legs open and return to fingering her. Defeated, she opens her legs a bit and allows me to get her off. I briefly feel bad for her, but my need is to win and to escape another punishment from Madison's nefarious mind. (The last one I'd been gangbanged by a dozen white supremacists, all wearing their Caspar-the-Ghost-like KKK outfits. Seeing she's close, I tap her clit with my thumb and watch as her legs stiffen and she comes, whimpering and crying through her orgasm.

Madison says, "Congratulations, Keisha, you win. Which means Felicia, you lose. Go to the door and await your punishment. Keisha, crawl over to your new Mommy, your white Mommy, and taste the nectar of heaven."

I woke up, again mortified by a dream. Yet my pussy was on fire, so I closed my eyes and fingered myself the rest of the way to sexual satisfaction. Once I'd recovered from another nasty/thrilling orgasm, I cursed my mother for bringing this white temptress into my life, and I promised myself I'd confront Madison once and for all when I returned to the office tomorrow.

27. THE LULL

After the longest, the most humiliating and yet extremely satisfying day of my life, I expected more of the same on Sunday.

I woke up in my own bed, sore everywhere and still exhausted. I lay there for over an hour, replaying last night in my head and accepting the knowledge that my life was no longer my own. All I could do was beg Madison to allow me to continue my professional life. The evidence she had on me was overwhelming, and although I'd never before felt so liberated and free as I had yesterday, in truth I was anything but free. The oxymoron was obvious, yet that was still the case.

All day, naked except for my white thigh highs, I eagerly anticipated Madison's arrival, and all day I was disappointed. Knowing the kids would be home soon, I kept the white stockings on as instructed but got dressed, trying to retain an image of respectability with my children as best as I could in an already fragile familial structure.

My pussy was on fire all day, begging for attention, but I'd now accepted the conditions of my slavery and was determined to obey the slut-mandments in their entirety. I didn't dare go to church, feeling I could burst into flames after the many sins I'd committed, plus I was way past redemption, plus there was no way I wanted to face the Minister's wife, Jessica Hart. What could we possibly do together except look into each other's faces with mutual embarrassment?

The next day, Monday, I went to school and again expected to undergo some sort of submission. As I walked towards my classroom and past many students, I found myself wondering, Did I suck this boy's cock?, Is this the one who fucked my ass?, and Was he the one with that huge white cock? Madison had closed a circuit inside me I hadn't known existed, but now that it was switched on, it was impossible to switch it back off.

I arrived in class, and Madison had returned, with her little slaves surrounding her. She had a smug smile on her face, yet she didn't say anything during the entire class, even when we began discussing the future of feminine equality. Every time a male student smiled, I wondered if he knew I was a slut hiding in a professor's disguise. Once class was done, Madison and her posse left without a word, leaving me alone and confused.

This isolation continued all week. No contact with Madison or any of the other people who knew of my sexual demise. I considered texting Allison, the redhead from the toy shop, my eagerness to submit and be able to come growing each day, but I thought that adding another person, especially a Mistress, to my sick game of submission would make things too complicated at this juncture.

It wasn't until Wednesday night that Madison showed up unannounced at my house just after dinner. At least she knocked rather than just walking through my unlocked front door. Once I'd invited her inside, she asked as if she were a preschooler, "Can Nicholas come out and play?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

"I need a last-minute date and thought Nic would be perfect," she smiled, looking sultrily at Nicholas, who was staring at the white goddess. "So, what do you think, sexy? Can you do a girl a favour?"

He stammered, "S-s-sure. Where are we going?"

"I'll tell you on the way. We're late," she said. "It's come as you are."

"Okay," Nicholas said eagerly, putting his shoes on.

Madison smiled, "Don't wait up, Professor; it could be a late night."

I should have pointed out like a good mother that it was a school night, but instead I just wished them, "Have a good time."

As soon as they were gone, Nicole blasted me, "Are you kidding me? He is allowed out on a school night with a college girl, and you give me an eleven o'clock curfew?"

Instead of defending myself, I gave in to her whine: "You know what, Nicole? You're old enough to make your own decisions."

She'd been expecting an argument, so when I gave in she stammered in surprise. "G-g-good, thanks Mom. You're the best." She hugged me and went directly to her cell phone.

I waited up till almost midnight before deciding to go to bed, unable to stay up any longer. I hadn't been asleep long when I felt a painful slap on my cunt. I jolted up and my face crashed into a wet pussy. I was confused even about where I was until Madison said, "Shhhhh, you don't want your children to know you're my personal fuck toy. Now clean your son's cum out of my cunt."

Every time I thought I'd hit rock bottom in my complete downfall, Madison found a new low for me! But as much as such a demand was humiliating and sick, I could already feel my pussy bubbling with anticipation. I raised my head and began licking Madison's cream pie, this unpasteurised dairy product courtesy of my eighteen-year old son. The mixture of Madison's sweet pussy juice and my son's cum was a potent mixture of perfection. As soon as I began licking her pussy, I was addicted. I sucked on her swollen clit and licked between her pussy lips as deep as I could, eager to retrieve every last morsel of my son's cum. It was only a few minutes of concentrated licking before my face was coated with Madison's juice and a smidgeon more of Nic's sperm. I continued savouring the cocktail until she climbed off of me and said, "Thanks slut, your son came rather quick, so I didn't get off." She tossed me her panties from next to my pillow and added to my humiliation, "I put these on after your son came in me. So I'm sure there's more of him on my panties, if you're still hungry. Have you come since Saturday?"

"No, Mistress," I replied.

"Swear?"

"Yes, Mistress."

You may get yourself off tonight Professor, but only once. So make it worthwhile."

I caught the panties, but while she was still present, I resisted doing what my body craved. Once she was gone and I heard the front door close, I grabbed Madison's panties, draped them over my head and licked their wet sticky crotch while swimming in the intoxicating aroma of her scent and my son's taste. My hand went to my wet pussy and began spanking my clit over and over again, building myself to a powerful climax. When I came, I bit my lips not to wake up the kids as the pleasure burned through me. Exhausted, I fell asleep with Madison's panties still on my head.

28. A SIXTH BRIEF INTERLUDE INTO THE LIFE OF KEISHA JEFFERSON: A SHOCKING REVELATION

On the flight home, I decide to ask Mr. Walters about Madison. "Have you met Ms. Adams?"

His face goes noticeably pale in spite of his pigmentation, and I can tell Madison hadn't lied to me about the sex. He covers, "Yes, the young lady who was looking for an intern job."

"She was?" I ask, this being news to me and pushing for more information.

"Yes," he explains, "A non-paying position to improve her resumé."

"You didn't hire her, did you?" I ask, concerned.

"Actually, I did. It would be great to have a white woman on staff. It could pay big dividends down the road," he rationalizes, as I envision the disaster this could turn out to be.

"But is she qualified?"

"Well, her resumé is impressive, and her references are all political bigwigs, so again, she could be a real asset to our cause."

I can't tell him the truth. That I know he'd fucked her, or that I was having recurring nasty submission dreams about her, or that I'm concerned that her real goal is to humiliate me, and maybe even bring down the whole NAACP. So I remain silent, knowing it will be up to me to deal with her once and for all.

But he adds one more domino towards the complete collapse of everything when he finishes with, "I've assigned her to you for training. She's been working every afternoon this past week on research, and I want you to mentor her."

Holy shit! "Why me?"

He shrugs, "She requested you specifically."

*****

Our flight arrives at 7:00 p.m. on Thursday, and I decide to go to the office to see what's been happening while I was gone, and to prepare for my inevitable confrontation with Madison.

When I arrive at our law offices I see Madison not only occupying my office, but sitting at my desk! I snap angrily, "Get away from my desk, Madison."

Madison looks up, surprised to see me, and drawls insolently, "Oh, hi. I wasn't expecting you back so soon, Keisha."

"It's Miss Jefferson to you," I correct her, my tone full of venom.

Her smug smile returns, her tone condescending. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Miss Jefferson." I don't believe a word of it.

She stands up and I notice she's once again dressed like a skank going to a bar, ready to take it from any guy who offers. I shake my head, "If you're going to work under me, you'll dress like a professional and not like some bar-hopping floozy."

Her smile never falters as she says, "First of all, soon it will be you working under me. Second, if I recall correctly, Mr. Walters particularly enjoyed my outfit, and the easy access it gave him."

I lecture her, "Look, I'm sick of your attitude. This is a place of social progress, and a place where respect is earned, not given. if you want to sleep your way to the top, go right ahead, but you can do it somewhere else."

She laughs, "You're funny. So dignified and morally proper, just like your mother used to be."

"I'm nothing like my mother," I snap, wondering what she means by 'used to be'. I sit down in my chair and gasp: I'm staring down at Carol Myers, Mr. Walters' partner in the firm and my immediate superior, her face shiny with what must be Madison's arousal juice. I'm speechless... utterly, completely speechless.

"What's wrong, Keisha?" Madison asks smugly.

Carol begins to climb out from under the desk, but Madison rebukes her, "Did I give you permission to get up, slave?"

"Sorry, Miss Madison," my highly respected feminist role model replies, returning to her submissive position under my desk.

Madison explains, "You weren't supposed to see this. I had no idea you'd be in tonight, so while I worked, I was just training my new Nigger slut to please me properly."

"Carol, how did this happen?" I ask, ignoring Madison's so-called explanation.

Carol apologizes, "I'm sorry, Keisha."

"You're fucking sorry? For what?" Madison demands.

Carol's dark face goes pale, afraid of Madison's menacing tone. "Sorry for her seeing me in this position."

"Sorry to be on your knees?" Madison asks.

Carol remains silent, her face full of shame.

"Sorry that your face is coated with my cunt juice?" Madison pushes.

I roar, trying to protect my hero and mentor, "That is ENOUGH, Madison! You will not treat Carol with such disrespect."

"Is that so?" Madison asks smugly. "Slut, do you want me to treat you with more courtesy and respect? All you need to do is tell me you don't want to be my slave, and I'll release you from your bondage of servitude to your white Mistress, and you can go back to your trivial black life. Is that what you want?"

Carol is silent for a moment before she responds in a timid whisper, shame uppermost in her answer, "No, Miss, I don't want that at all."

"Then what do you want?" a smiling Madison asks while staring at me triumphantly.

"I want to continue being your Nigger slut," Carol admits.

My mouth drops wide open at hearing such pitiful vulgarity from my role model.

While I stand there in silent shock, Madison explains, "Isn't it obvious by now Keisha? Black women like your mother, like my slut under the desk, and like yourself, have all been living the same lie."

"Really," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

She ignores my sarcasm as she continues her assessment of me. "Yes, really. You spend your whole life sustaining this ridiculous belief that you're equal to whites, that the world is changing, and that you're part of the change. Well, you're going to be part of the change all right, the change that returns you to your original place in the social hierarchy. You've read To Kill a Mockingbird, have you not?"

"Sure," I reply, in a daze from all these unprecedented occurrences and pronouncements.

"Well, that was the way life used to be, and where it needs to return," she explains. "The hierarchy is pretty simple. At the top is the white upper class, then comes the white middle class, then the white hard-working lower class, then even the white scum class, and then at the very bottom... are the blacks."