Black Women are Submissive
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Hello, there. My name is Samantha Villiers. I’m a six-foot-one, lean and athletic yet big-bottomed, dark-skinned Black woman of Haitian living in the city of Ottawa, Ontario. I’m a third-year student at Carleton University. Life is okay these days. Playing rugby and learning all I can about business management, those are my priorities. Not much else to do, really. Ottawa isn’t as fast-paced a city as what I’m used to. I’m from the metropolitan puzzle piece known as Boston, Massachusetts, and there’s always something to do in my hometown at night. Ottawa has a very weak nightlife. That’s cool with me these days because I spend most of my time indoors. I’m currently exploring my sexuality while learning about BDSM. My instructor in these matters is a beautiful Black woman named Marjorie Etienne. A professor of African Art and History at Carleton University who moonlights as a suburban dominatrix. What can I say? I’ve got a serious Jones for sexy older Black women and Mistress Marjorie fascinates me.
I was drawn to her the first time we met. This five-foot-ten, short-haired and gray-eyed Black woman with light brown skin was sexy as hell. She has a curvy body, wide hips and a big, round ass. Just the way I like my women. This lady was something else. Born and raised in the Republic of Haiti, she’s been in Canada for about ten years now. She’s also the Chairperson of the all-new African Art and History program at Carleton University. Ottawa is home to scores of people of African descent and many of them attend Carleton University. In an effort to diversify the campus, the administrators created the African Art and History program. As a young Haitian woman, I was immediately drawn to it. There were twenty four students in Professor Marjorie Etienne’s class. Eleven of us were Black. How about that? The subject matter was fascinating. I’m proud of my heritage and my roots. However, in this class, I was more fascinated by the professor than the subject at hand. If you saw her, you’d understand. Professor Marjorie Etienne was in her late thirties and fit the profile of the sexy Black MILF so many straight guys and young lesbians fantasize about. Let’s just say I wasn’t the only person in class who wanted a piece of her.
Now, about Professor Marjorie, I wasn’t too sure how to go about enticing her. I’m bisexual, but have mainly dated men. My last relationship ended rather strangely. I was dating this tall, good-looking young Black man named George Auvergne. A third-generation Haitian-American. He lived with his parents in the affluent town of Milton, right next to Boston. He attended Boston College, for which he played varsity baseball. The guy was all that and a bag of chips. Six feet three inches tall, lean and muscular, and gorgeously dark-skinned. Just the way I liked my men. We had a lot in common. Like me, George was also secretly bisexual. I admit that I had a problem with that at first. It might sound hypocritical, a bisexual woman having issues with bisexual men but whatever. Still, I eventually got over güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri it and we dated pretty seriously for a year and a half. George and I had an agreement. I knew he had his male lovers on the side. I didn’t really mind since I also played with a couple of my girls from time to time.
However, I loved George and I cared about his safety. Not everyone in Massachusetts is friendly to gays, lesbians and bisexuals. The world of college sports is still pretty homophobic and I dreaded what George’s teammates would do to him if they found out he wasn’t straight. So I made him swear he’d always be safe and discreet in his sexual encounters. I also made it clear to him that while his liaisons with men were okay by me, I wouldn’t be cool with it if he were to hook up with another woman. I wanted to be the only woman in his life. George agreed, and we had a good thing going. Ours was a loving, passionate relationship. Until the day he came to me and told me he got a white chick pregnant. And not just any white chick. He impregnated my good friend Alicia Stone, a teammate of mine at UMass-Boston. Not cool. Not cool at all. I dumped George and ended my friendship with Alicia.
Yeah, when I came to Ottawa, I wasn’t in much of a hurry to chase guys. If they came calling and were willing to treat me right, cool. If not, then whatever. I wanted to explore my lust for sexy older Black women and the woman I desired most was Professor Marjorie Etienne. I think I’ve been lusting after sexy older Black women for quite some time. I remember feeling really excited whenever one of my mom’s pretty friends would come visit. I had a favorite. Her name was Wanda and she was tall and sexy. And always single. Looking back, I think she might have been gay but with our age difference, she probably wouldn’t have given me the time of day anyway. I wanted Marjorie Etienne and I wanted her badly. So I learned everything I could about her. Marjorie Etienne had an MBA from Howard University in Washington D.C. I was impressed. Howard University is one of the top historically Black schools in the USA. Right up there with Morehouse College, Spelman College and Hampton University. They formed a quartet known informally as the Black Ivy Leagues. The best schools for the very best of African-American students. If I lived anywhere near the District of Columbia, Howard University would have been my choice. However, I lived in Boston. The University of Massachusetts in Boston was closer to home, racially diverse and surprisingly affordable. Anyway, back on topic. According to my online background check, Marjorie Etienne was healthy, educated and had never been married. I took that as a good sign.
I began to basically stalk her. Well, maybe not stalk her. Let’s just say I made myself aware of her comings and goings. And I shamelessly flirted with her whenever I ran into her at the campus library or inside a restaurant. She seemed flattered, and puzzled. One day, we were having coffee inside Second Cup and güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri that’s when I actually told her how I felt. Marjorie Etienne smiled at me, and told me that she had just gotten out of a relationship and wasn’t looking for romance. I told her I would take what I could get, it was all up to her. She smiled wickedly. I could tell she liked the sound of that. She asked me if I was open-minded and willing to try new things. What do you think I said? The next day, I brought my shapely ass over to her house in the suburbs of Orleans and she told me what she expected of me. Apparently, Marjorie was very much into BDSM. Whips and chains, handcuffs, black leather outfits and sexual experimentation gone wild. The works. This wasn’t really my thing but for her I would try anything. Marjorie liked the sound of that very much.
My introduction to BDSM was memorable, to say the least. Marjorie and I sat in her living room and she explained the basics to me. Basically, she was looking for a young woman of great physical and mental fortitude who was willing to be her submissive in the bedroom. I don’t really do submission. I’m a strong woman. However, I was willing to give it a try, to please her. Next thing I know she had me strip naked and inspected my body inch by inch like a very kinky doctor. Then she made me get on my knees and suck her toes. She had lovely feet but I had never sucked anyone’s toes before. With a commanding tone, she told me to get going or else. Obediently I sucked my new ‘mistress’ toes. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Yet I felt a sexual thrill deep inside as I obeyed Mistress Marjorie. She cooed and moaned as I sucked her toes. After a few minutes she ordered me to stop. I looked up at her. She grabbed my face and kissed me forcefully on the lips. Then she grabbed my breasts and squeezed them. Hard. I winced. Mistress Marjorie smiled, then she ordered me to lie on the carpeted floor and spread my legs. I did as I was told. Amazingly, Mistress Marjorie got between my legs and started licking my pussy. When I ran my hands through her hair, she batted my hands away. What a bossy chick!
And that’s how my first time with her went. Wow. My relationship with her, if you can call it that, was a roller coaster ride. Mistress Marjorie was cruel and demanding. Professor Marjorie was cool and distant. The only time I got to see anything soft under her steely facade was when we were out on the town together. In restaurants, clubs and other fun places, the Professor and the Mistress were gone. They were replaced by someone fun. A wonderful lady who danced with me, kissed me passionately and told me she loved having me in her life. I think I stuck around for that aspect of Marjorie. Fun Marjorie is what I’ll call her. Mistress Marjorie could be fun, in her own way. She taught me to play through the pain. She made me get on all fours, face down and ass up and spanked me with a paddle while calling me every name in the book. It felt humiliating, and weird, and I güvenilir bahis şirketleri couldn’t believe I was letting another woman do this to me. Yet it also turned me on. Got my pussy really wet. I felt abased but alive. Mistress Marjorie continued to put me through sexual hell, Professor Marjorie continued to ignore me and Fun Marjorie I saw less and less of. Mistress Marjorie one day donned a strap-on dildo and made me suck it while kneeling before her. Afterwards, she put me on all fours and fucked me from behind while spanking my ass and pulling my hair. Not content with fucking my pussy, she fucked my ass as well. Simply spread my ass cheeks and pressed the dildo against my asshole. Then she pushed it inside. I gasped as her dildo penetrated my asshole. It hurt. I complained. Mistress Marjorie told me to shut up and take it. She made me completely surrender to her that day, something I’d never done before. It was eerie, but I enjoyed it. Little by little, I found myself becoming Mistress Marjorie’s own personal bitch. And the scary thing is that part of me liked it.
My relationship with Marjorie became all-consuming. I neglected friends, family and even school. That wasn’t good. Professor Marjorie chastised me for it by sending me to the Student Center for extra help. And Mistress Marjorie whipped me hard with a black leather whip before fucking me with her strap-on dildo. Her way of giving me double the punishment. To please both my mistress and my professor, I set aside more time to focus on schoolwork. Mistress Marjorie was pleased, as was Professor Marjorie. Thus I learned balance. A lot of women and men in the world of BDSM are consumed by their ruling passion. They burn themselves out rather quickly. They’re the amateurs. The truly strong ones maintain a firm balance between their family life, their work life and their kinky life. Marjorie taught me how to achieve that balance. Per her orders, I began to spend more time with family and friends, doing normal everyday things. Twice a week we met, once for dinner and a movie and the other for a hard session of domination. In class and in bed, Marjorie expected the very best I had to offer. And I was determined to give it to her.
Life went on. That semester, I had a remarkable turnaround. Four A’s and one B in my core classes. And one of my A’s was in the African Art and History program. I was so proud. Fun Marjorie took me out to celebrate, and we danced the night away at a reggae club in downtown Ottawa. Afterwards, she took me home and fucked me like she’s never fucked me before. I’m serious. She laid me on the bed and licked every inch of my naked body. Then she allowed me to do something she never did before. Marjorie allowed me to lick her pussy.
Gently, I spread her legs and lapped away at her pussy. She grabbed my head and made me lick like there was no tomorrow. Thrilled because I could finally taste her, I licked her like my life depended on it. I gently bit her clit, and teased her pussy with my fingers before licking it again and again. Marjorie squealed in pleasure, and before my amazed eyes she actually came. As in shot cum. Wow. I licked it all way, knowing it to be a rare but fun-filled occurence. Afterwards, Marjorie pulled me into her arms and kissed me. I smiled and kissed her back. Neither of us said anything. There was no need.
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