Deconstructing the Professor

I babble, degrading myself without being told to, "Oh yes, Mistress, please let your Nigger cum."

"N-n-n-n-n-n-nhh!!" I'm holding on by a thread!

"One," she announces, her whole fist to the wrist finally filling me as she demands, "Now, slave. Come for the camera. Come for your Mistress!"

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, fuck, yes," I scream, as my long held-back orgasm explodes out of me as Madison well and truly fists me, causing a mixture of pleasure and pain as my pussy widens to unnatural dimensions, and the egg is still in there somewhere, still vibrating and buzzing away. The pulses of pleasure continue for an eternity, as every time the ride seems to be ending, another pulse tingles my entire being as Madison's fist repeatedly fills me completely.

"Who owns you?" she demands, her fingers spreading apart inside me.

"Aaaaah, you do, Mistress," I whimper, my pussy experiencing sensations I didn't know could possibly exist.

"Fuck yourself on my fist, slave," she demands.

I don't even hesitate as I place my hands behind me, lift my hips up, and begin furiously bucking my cunt onto Madison's lily-white arm. My desire to come again is both humiliating and exhilarating, and it completely swamps my morals. I've become exactly what Madison said I'd become. The humiliation is tempered only by the onslaught of pleasure such utter submission is bringing me.

I whimper, I moan, I scream, and after a second earth-shattering orgasm hammers through me...

...

When I wake up I'm lying on my desk. Was that another one of those all-to-vivid dreams of submitting to Madison? No, not this time, that was real: the egg is still vibrating inside me. I jump off my desk and I'm thankful to see that at least my office door is closed. In a flash, all the humiliating details from earlier in the evening return to me. Tears flow into my eyes as I realize the predicament I've gotten myself into. My plan to get hold of the tape after Madison left now appears impossible, as I assume she's already gone to get it, and now I'm completely at the will of this blonde deviant. Yet even as my mind replays the horrifying sins I recently committed, my pussy once again begins to tingle against my will. What's become of me? Why couldn't I resist? How had I been outplayed by a younger white coed?

I pull the egg out of me, desperate to calm down, when I notice a piece of paper lying on the floor. I pick it up and read it:

Slave Keisha,

I own you now... well actually, slut Carol and I both own you now. Going forward any attempt, no matter how slight, to disobey either of us will result in extreme punishments, not to mention this video, edited to my specs, and you know very well which one I mean, will be going on the internet.

A good slut only wears thigh high stockings, so that your black box will be always available. In a similar vein, you will no longer wear panties (except during that time of month, of course). More rules will be added as time progresses, but be a good slut and you'll be allowed to keep this job, and the secret that you are a slave will remain exactly that... a secret.

Mistress Madison

P.S. There you go, I've finally affixed my incriminating name to a letter for you. Happy now?

P.P.S. Come now!!!

I'm mortified yet again, this time by this daunting note, and yet without even hesitating, I begin rubbing my clit, obeying the absurd order even as the humiliation burns inside me that I've submitted to a white racist in the very building where I fought so hard for equal rights.

38. BECOMING MY DAUGHTER'S SLAVE

All night I fretted about when I would next see Nicholas and whether he would tell his sister what he'd done... or rather, what we'd done together. Yet, much to my surprise, the next two days were quiet on all fronts. Madison had not been in class for a couple of days, and Nicholas had treated me with more respect than he ever did before he'd used me sexually. There also seemed to be no evidence that Nicole knew anything about my incestuous transgression. She had asked for a foot massage once in the past two days, but nothing more. But I was still walking on eggshells, knowing it was only a matter of time before this ominous calm would crack.

Then came Friday evening.

As usual I came home early on Friday, but this time I walked into the most shocking of all shocking events I'd yet experienced in this month of revolution.

My eighteen-year-old daughter Nicole was on the floor between the legs of my Mistress while she was being fucked from behind by Ben. I watched the act in stunned voyeuristic awe. Nothing should have surprised me anymore, especially after everything Madison had made me do, yet this scene shocked me nonetheless.

Madison looked over to me and smiled her devious, smug smile and said, "Well, since I've fucked the rest of your family, I figured I shouldn't leave your beautiful daughter out of the fun."

I wondered if that meant she'd added Keisha to her growing harem; I hoped not. I prayed Keisha could remain strong enough to resist Madison. I tried to formulate a sentence, yet I remained speechless. The emotion that should have filled me was anger at my daughter being used, although the moans coming from her didn't sound like she was at all reluctant. Instead, the emotion I felt rushing through me was jealousy. I wanted to be the one on my knees licking Madison's heavenly cunt; I wanted to be the one feeling Ben's big cock ravishing my own needy cunt.

Reading my mind, Madison asked, "Jealous, Mommy-slut?"

I stammered, "No... I... yes... well..."

"Crawl over here, slut," Madison ordered.

Thankful for the order and the opportunity to perhaps please and be pleased, I fell to my knees and began crawling to my Mistress.

Once I was beside my daughter, I crouched there and watched as Madison began rubbing her pussy all over my daughter's face. A minute later, Madison screamed and exploded all over Nicole. Nicole eagerly lapped up my Mistress' juice while continuing to be fucked hard by Ben.

Nicole finally spoke, still unaware of my presence a few inches away from her, "Oh God yes, fuck me harder, Ben."

Madison quipped, "Would you like your own slave, Nicole?"

"Oh God yes," she moaned, opening her eyes and seeing me for the first time. Her face distorted from pleasure to disdain. Her tone dripped with disrespect as she greeted, "Oh hi, Mommy dearest."

Before I could speak, Madison said, "Nicole, clearly your Mother needs a live-at-home Mistress."

"Really?" she moaned with a smile as she caught on to where this was going.

"Do you want her?" Madison asked, if I weren't here.

"Oh God yes," she moaned, as her moans increased and seconds later, I watched my daughter's cum face for the first time.

Ben wasn't far behind as he asked, "Where should I shoot my load, Madison?"

"Fill her up," Madison instructed, "and then her new slave can clean her up."

My face went flushed, not out of humiliation at the task I was soon to be given, but from the excitement of tasting my daughter for the first time.

"Fill me up, baby," Nicole moaned, as her orgasm continued pulsing through her.

"Here it comes, baby," Ben grunted, his face distorting in the absurd way it does when a man comes.

Jealousy at him not filling my cunt burned through me as I watched my daughter come down from her orgasmic high.

Madison, as always able to see through me, asked, "Is Mommy-slut jealous?"

"Yes, Mistress," I answered honestly.

"Nicole, she's all yours," Madison offered, as Ben pulled out.

Nicole's grin got huge as she ordered, "Come clean out my pussy, Mommy."

"Yes, Miss Nicole," I replied, attempting to show her my obedience and respect.

I crawled behind my daughter, who was still on all fours, and could see Ben's white goo oozing out of her pussy.

I briefly stared at her perfect curved ass before leaning forward and committing my second incestuous act of the week. The mixture of Ben's salty cum with my daughter's juice was delicious, and I eagerly attempted to retrieve every last drop of both.

I could hear Madison chuckle as she asked rhetorically, "Our uppity Professor has turned into a perfect slave, hasn't she?"

Nicole moaned, "Hmmm, get that slut tongue deeper, Mommy."

I obeyed, attempting to fuck my daughter's cunt with my tongue.

Madison explained, "Professor, although I am your ultimate Mistress, starting now, your beautiful daughter will also be your Mistress. All the rules of the slut-mandments remain. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mistress," I agreed without hesitation.

"Do you want to come, slut?" Madison asked.

"Badly, Mistress," I replied, my cunt so wet.

"On your back," Madison ordered, as she threw a towel on the floor where I was about to lie.

I obeyed as usual.

Madison straddled my face and explained, "One more task for you to complete, and then you can come."

"Anything, Mistress," I replied, my desire to come all that mattered.

"Open wide," she instructed with a wicked gleam in her eye.

I obeyed and was shocked when a moment later I saw warm pee streaming onto my face and into my mouth. To my astonishment the taste was only slightly unpleasant, yet even this utterly submissive act seemed appropriate, considering my position on the sexual hierarchy, and this disgusting experience only had my cunt burning brighter. Madison's urine soaked my hair, my forehead, my nose, my chin and my mouth, as her loose stream roamed. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to serve my Mistress once again, this time as a human toilet, in my own house, in front of my own daughter.

Once she was done, Madison asked, "Did you like that, slave?"

"Yes, Mistress," I replied, and realized I wasn't lying.

"Do you want to be a human toilet more often?" she asked.

"If either of my Mistresses want me to be."

"Good answer," she smiled, standing back up. "Nicole, how about you fist-fuck your Mommy to orgasm?"

Nicole's deviant smile returned, and she moved between my legs and roughly shoved three fingers inside me. After a minute or so of hard fingering, she asked, "Does Mommy want her daughter to fist-fuck her?"

"Yes please, Miss Nicole," I moaned, her fingers sending pulses of pleasure everywhere.

"Beg, Mommy," she demanded.

"Oh, god, Nicole, please fist-fuck your Mommy. Please make your slutty Mom cum all over your hand," I begged.

Seconds later I screamed as my pussy sheathed my daughter's (thankfully small) hand completely. Once it was in she pumped hard, ravishing my cunt and pounding it harshly.

The pleasure and pain were both intense, and I was quickly on the brink of climactic bliss. I moaned, "Oh yes, Nicole, use Mommy; harder baby, harder."

She obliged me and used her free hand to slap my tits. Each sting of humiliation only brought more pleasure, and I knew I was moments away from another one of the orgasms I thrived on.

"I want you to come for your new Mistress," Nicole ordered me, "Come now, Mommy."

Her words were the final piece of the orgasm puzzle, and torrents of pleasure cascaded through me as I screamed, "Thank you Mistress, I'm comiiiiiiiiiiiing!"

Nicole dove into my pussy and sucked on my clit as my orgasm exploded out of me. "Oh yes, baby, suck Mommy's cliiiiiiiit!"

As my orgasm continued to thrill me, I felt a warm rain hitting my face once again and opened my eyes to see Ben pissing on me. Oh, what the hell. I opened my mouth to catch the quarterback's urine.

A minute later Nicole pulled her fist out of me and stood up with a smile that I knew meant she wasn't done with me yet. She too straddled my face, her cunt just inches from me, and after a few seconds of wondering whether she was about to pee on me or was expecting me to pleasure her, I got my answer. My daughter's urine coated my entire face like a brief thundershower. I closed my eyes and allowed my daughter to coat my face with her pee. Once she was done, she stood up and said, "Mommy, you should probably go shower."

"Yes, Mistress," I replied, never having felt dirtier than I did at that moment.

"And starting tonight, I'll be sleeping in your bed, and you'll sleep at the foot of it like a good pet," she informed me.

"Of course, Mistress," I agreed.

I stood up and watched as Madison and Ben got dressed to leave, the stench of urine now all I could smell. No longer horny, the realization of what had transpired during the past hour mortified me. Madison smiled, "Professor, you'd better hurry and clean up. Your son will be home any minute, won't he?"

"Yes, Mistress, I suppose he will," I agreed, but wanting to impress or shock her I added, "Although maybe I should just wait so he can use me as he wishes as well."

"As I'm sure you would, being the dirty Nigger slut that you are," Madison replied, "but you should probably greet your Master looking a little better than you do right now."

"My Master," I repeated dully.

"Well, of course," she smiled, "I can't just let your daughter own you. That would cause a fair amount of tension in your household, don't you think?"

"Good thinking, Mistress," I agreed, "except that he's already told me he's my Master and I've agreed."

"Oh, has he now?" she exclaimed with peals of laughter. What a precocious boy!"

Once Madison and Ben were gone, I went to my room to shower and cry. Every time I'd thought I'd hit rock bottom, I'd found a new meaning for bottom I'd never imagined existed... but this time I'd officially hit rock bottom... had I not?

39. PUNISHMENTS

The rest of the school year went by pretty quickly. I was used as a cum bucket by Nicholas at least every day, usually two or three times, sometimes four, and used as a live-in full-service maid with benefits by Nicole. On occasion Madison would come over to use me, and Ben would often show up at my office for a quick blowjob, but otherwise my life got into a routine of sorts (if such a life can be considered routine).

I also learned, by watching two videos Madison brought over for my family to watch, that Keisha had submitted too. The first one was the complete video of her submission, a stunning psychological drama as Keisha slowly weakened just like I had, until she completely broke... eventually admitting at the top of her lungs (in the NAACP law offices of all places) that she too was a Nigger slut. It was shocking and captivating. The second video was made later as she was gangbanged by over a dozen college freshmen from Ben's frat, a punishment for one of her disobediences. By then she'd lost all resistance to anything required of her, and as they fucked her in all three holes and hurled verbal abuse at her, I could tell she was having the time of her life... I think I counted her having at least four screaming orgasms. I also learned she'd moved in with Carol as a live-in slave. Interestingly enough, Keisha kept working for the NAACP, although she was now working both figuratively and literally under Madison. Painfully, Keisha refused to return my calls or speak to me, and thus I had to accept that although we'd always been so very much the same, and remained so even now, I'd lost all contact with my elder daughter.

Although I saw Madison less frequently as she spent more time working to destroy the NAACP from the inside, she gave me a new task every Monday. Each task was in the form of a punishment for my many early disobediences. Each task was humiliating and meant to keep me in line, which seemed redundant, based on what was by now my utter submission and the massive amount of incriminating evidence she had on me. I also learned that according to Madison's calculations, I had four punishments remaining to endure. How she came up with that number is a mystery to me, and which of my previous tasks had been counted as punishments was also a mystery.

TASK 1

You have one week to get a tattoo. Because I'm a caring Mistress, I'm giving you a few choices for the tattoo.

The options for location are:

-just above your fat ass

-just above your black box

-on one your flabby cow udders

These options are available for the text to be inked:

-owned

-slave

-Nigger

-Madison's slave

Note: You may freely choose the image to accompany your text.

I sighed. Even apart from the horrific location options and the humiliating word options, I detested tattoos. I'd argued for years that tattoos weren't symbols of identity, but were just yet another way people conformed to society's standards. I argued that we were all sheep, following some bizarre trendsetter. Now I was being told to permanently go against yet another of my dearly-held beliefs.

Like the prior task I'd endured, I delayed it all week, hoping for a reprieve from Madison I knew wasn't coming, or at the very least, for some inspiration as to what I should choose to scar my body with. Alas, on Saturday I headed to a remote tattoo parlor on the outskirts of town, still completely unsure of what I would taint my body with, and where I would scar my body.

The story of getting my tattoo isn't riveting, so I won't get into the nitty-gritty of it, but suffice it to say I'm now branded forever... a constant reminder of who I've become.

TASK 2

Professor Slut,

I love the tattoo. Choosing my name was a pleasant surprise, and placing it above your beaver box with a leash leading down below was a nice touch. You're such a good, obedient slave lately, I've decided to pleasantly surprise you as well... I'm removing one of your punishments. Since I'm taking one punishment off, you only have two left.

Your task this week is simple. You must use the word CUNT in one of your lectures this week.

Have fun with this one.

Mistress Madison

I shook my head at this one, knowing that such a word being used by a professor would be scandalous. Thinking of my upcoming lessons, I chuckled to myself, already knowing how to include the word in my lecture.

On Wednesday, with Madison sitting directly in front of me, I lectured about selling with sex. After showing music videos by Lady Gaga, Rihanna and Britney Spears, and a plethora of advertisements using sex to sell various products, I went on my rant.

"As you can see, the problem with today's society is that sex is used to sell everything to everyone. Hot women are used to sell products to men, to women and to teenagers. Scantily clad women are used to sell everything marketable as they showcase their breasts and bodies to tantalize people. A commercial with a guy being swarmed by girls as he drinks a certain brand of beer tries to convince consumers that if they drink that beer, they too will become surrounded by hot women."

I showed a picture of a woman wearing four-inch leopard high heels and stay-up stockings while sitting on a gravestone and asked, "What is this advertisement selling?"

Students guessed the obvious answers: stockings, shoes, perfume, and so forth.

Finally I revealed, pointing to the fine print on the bottom, "It's actually for a hotel in Vegas." Laughter ensued. Getting passionate, I ranted, "You see, it doesn't even matter anymore what you're selling. Just get yourself a pretty woman, dress her as a skank, showcase her tits and cunt, and kaboom, you have a great advertisement."

Gasps filled the room.

I looked around, feigning ignorance at what I'd just said. "What?"

Madison put up her hand, all polite, and said, "You used the C word, Professor. You know, as in private parts?"

"I did not," I replied, allegedly shocked at the accusation.

Another student in the back piped up, "Actually you did, Professor."

"Oh my God," I gasped, acting all apologetic. "I'm so sorry; I get so enthralled in my own lectures and my frustration over the manipulation of beauty, that I sometimes forget to filter what I say."

"It's okay," another student said, "It actually makes you more real. You usually seem so perfect up there, so it's good to know that you too can be flawed."