How I Became a Slave to Black Cock

I am a first year teacher at a poor urban school. The administration is unsupportive, the kids are delinquents, their parents don’t care, and I’m started to get burned out with teaching. Despite the insanity of working at this school, nothing has surprised me more than my white, middle class coworkers. While maintaining the external appearance of sweet, church-going women, they are secretly slutty, cheating, uncontrollably horny nymphomaniacs. This is my story of how I became subsumed in their underground culture of sex and perversion:

My first few weeks at the school were fairly normal (crazy and hectic). The other teachers, mostly attractive white women from their late 20s to mid 40s, treated me with respect. It was a feeling out period on a number of different levels. They wanted to see how I taught, how I could control the kids, and surreptitiously whether or not I would fit into their environment sexually. Questions I found a little weird became much more obvious after my introduction.

“So…you’re married, huh?”

“Yes, for six years.”

“How’s your sex life?”

I laughed uncomfortably, “pretty good, I guess.”

“Just pretty good? There’s always room for improvement…”


Strange.


“So…do you like to party?”

“Yeah. My husband and I got a little crazy sometimes in college.”

“Ever party without him?”

“Not really, unless it’s just hanging out with my girlfriends.”

“We always have a lot of fun when we leave our hubbies at home…”


After a month, they started inviting me out for drinks at the bar or dancing at the club. They liked to get a lot wilder than I expected. Drinking and dancing was never really my scene, but it was nice to have friends at work so I always went along. My husband was a little jealous of all the time I spent away from home, but he understood my need for girl time.

My colleagues slowly began exerting peer pressure during out clubbing adventures. It came mostly from my grade-level team teachers, with whom I had grown most close in my month at the school. Fiona was a very straightforward, fiery little redhead; Kristen was a long, tall blonde with the features of a model. Fiona took me aside on our second trip to the club.

“Ya know, you dress so professionally at the school…”

“Thank you,” I interrupted.

“Yeah… But we’re not at the school anymore. This isn’t a PTA meeting, it’s supposed to be fun!”

“I should lose the sweater?”

“You look like my grandmother! Lose the sweater, lose the slacks, and put on something short and tight.”

“But it’s not like I’m trying to hook up with someone…”

“It’s for you, not some guy. When you look good, you feel good.”

I could see the logic behind it. Why dress like I’m 80 when I have the body of a 22 year old?

“Thanks, Fiona.”


The next weekend I went shopping with my husband. Now that I was earning a nice paycheck, I didn’t mind blowing a little on new clothes.

“Isn’t that skirt a little shorter than you normally like? And that’s a really tight shirt.”

“Blouse,” I corrected.

“Tight blouse, whatever,” my husband responded.

“I don’t know…I just like how it looks on me.” (I wanted to fit in with the girls, who dress this way outside of school.)

“Alright, I just want you to wear what makes you happy. And you look pretty damn sexy.”

“Thanks, babe.”


It went on like that every weekend. It seemed like nothing I bought was sexy enough to match what the other teachers wore. I would come to the bar in a pair of nice shorts with a six inch inseam and a tight top; they would be wearing skirts that showed their asses and blouses with plunging necklines. I was at the mall twice a week picking out more daring outfits. By the end of the semester, I had a brand-new wardrobe.

After I started dressing “correctly,” the problem became how I acted. Kristen said I was way too reserved. All the other girls agreed. They danced with guys. They flirted. They flashed various body parts at the bouncer to get out of waiting in line outside the club. Why couldn’t I?

My response was obvious. “Because I’m married.”

“So are we,” they sang in unison.

“My husband doesn’t mind me having a little fun,” Fiona explained. “In fact, he likes when I make him jealous.”

“Really?”

“Definitely.”

“Mine too,” chimed Kristen. “When I tell him how hard the guys at the bar tried to get me in bed, it makes him crazy.”

It was almost unsettling how easily they dismissed my arguments and how quickly I accepted their view. Maybe I should act a little crazier. “Alright, I’ll give it a try.”

“You should try it with the guy who has been checking you out all night,” said Fiona, pointing to a hot guy across the bar. He gave me a beautiful smile. It had been a long time, but I was up for a challenge. I smiled back and then looked down at my lap shyly, forcing myself to blush a little.

The man got up and walked towards our group. I still had the old magic.

“I’m Ted, you want to come over and have a drink with me?”

Fiona and Kristen giggled.

“Sure.” He took my hand and led me back to his table. We laughed and flirted for hours, until Fiona gave me the sign. “My ride is about to leave.”

“I can be your ride tonight.”

“You know I’m married, right?”

“I’m not worried about it if you aren’t.”

I didn’t know what to do. “Hold on one sec.”

I ran over to Fiona. “Ready to go?”

“He wants to fuck me.”

She laughed. “So go for it.”

“Should I?”

“Of course you should. When was the last time you felt the intensity of being with someone new?”

“Many years ago.”

“See. Just go for it.”

I was so nervous. “Hold on.”

I ran back over to Ted, almost tripping in my high heels. Checking my watch, it was just past midnight. “Can you get me home before two?

“No problem.”

I gave Fiona the thumbs up and turned back to Ted. “Lets get out of here.”

The ride to his apartment was a blur of touching and kissing. Besides my husband, this was the first man I had done anything with in years. It was incredibly strange and exciting. We stumbled up the stairs and through the door, kissing and groping each other. Shedding our clothes, he led me to the bedroom and we fell together in a tangled mass of flesh. He drunkenly stimulated my clit and fingered me too hard, but I didn’t care. It felt so new. I grabbed at his cock and tugged until he was hard. It was smaller than my husband’s but hooked upwards instead of straight. The sensation as he parted my legs and entered me was indescribable. He thrust into my hole, hard and fast, for no more than five minutes before he pulled out and squirted my boobs with his cum. The sex itself wasn’t incredible, but the experience was. I had crossed a line.

My husband was already asleep when I got home. On the ride, I decided that I wasn’t going to live my life in fear of being discovered. I would be honest and accept whatever happened. I hoped that Fiona and Kristen were right about their husbands liking jealousy.

The passion of taking a new lover had exhilarated me. I was so horny that I needed it again that night. I undressed and gently woke my husband. “I had sex with another man tonight.”

“Huh?” He was still half asleep.

Whispering in his ear, “I said…I let another man fuck me tonight.”

“What?” More awake.

“A total stranger put his cock in my pussy until he came on me.”

“…Why?”

“Because I was horny and I wanted it.”

“How was it?”

“Incredible.”

We looked at each other in the dim light and began making out. He fucked me more passionately than he had in years. His dick was the hardest I had ever felt. He didn’t mention it, but the next morning we are at it again. The girls were right.

That is how I spent every Friday and Saturday night for the rest of the semester. I would go out with the girls, find a guy to fuck, and then go home to my husband and tell him what happened. Even when I was on my period I would suck dick in a bathroom and then meet my husband in the shower when I got home. It was more fun than I had ever had, but eventually the novelty began to wear off. One day after school went into Fiona’s classroom to talk.

“I’m not having as much fun going out as I used to.”

“You’re bored.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” Lowering my voice, I continued, “Cheating was so much fun before. What happened?”

“I guess it just got old.”

“Does that ever happen with you?”

“Towards the end of the semester I get tired of it. Can’t you tell when we go out the rest of the girls aren’t as crazy as they used to be?”

“Yeah. I see a lot less flirting and flashing. What do we do?”

“Most of the girls need a break and they’ll be back into it by January. They’ll go a little stir crazy at home over Christmas and it’ll be exciting again.”

“I guess that will have to work for me.”

“Well…” she looked around and came a little closer. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course.”

“Kristen and I do a little something special to celebrate the end of each semester. It’s a sort of hotel party every December and June that keeps everything fresh. Do you want in?”

“Yeah, that sounds great. What goes on at these parties?”

Fiona laughed. “That is top secret information. The only rules are that you have to stay the entire night and you have to be very open minded.”

“I can do that.”

“Good. Just get used to saying yes. Your reward is that you probably won’t be able to walk for a few days afterwards.”


The night was coming closer and I had no idea what to expect. Were they going to force me to do something I wasn’t comfortable with? Would that be a bad thing? I had no clue, but I couldn’t wait to find out. The last day of school Fiona handed me an envelope before she left for the summer. It contained what looked like a legal contract with a sticky note attached. The note read:

The party is at the Best Western downtown. Meet us in the parking lot at 8:00pm tomorrow night. We will provide all the needed accessories, but you need to wear a pair of white thigh-high stockings, black high heels, a matching white thong and garter belt, and a black corset. Wear your coat and some comfortable pants over the outfit. I hope you’re not camera shy! 🙂

The contract was pretty short. By signing, I agreed to obey all commands no matter how humiliating. I agreed to have everything put on film and accepted that the film would be put online. I agreed to use my body to make up for past injustice, whatever that meant. I also agreed to not take any birth control the morning of the party. That was strange but I didn’t think too much about it. I had always used condoms or a diaphragm and wasn’t on oral birth control anyway, so it wasn’t a problem. I signed the paper and put it in my purse.

I was pretty nervous and thinking about backing out until I showed everything to my husband. He got horny and insisted I go through with it. I was pretty submissive and liked the idea of spending an entire night getting dominated. He even insisted he come along to the sex shop/lingerie store that night to help me pick out my outfit.


The next day I was getting increasingly nervous. Who was going to be there? Did I want to be on camera? I was too excited not to find out. That night my husband sat on our bed watching me put on makeup and dressing in my new outfit.

“You look amazing.”

“Thanks. It’s too bad I have to cover up with these goofy pants and jacket.”

“I wish I could see it happen.”

“I’m sure you’ll see it eventually.”

I got to the hotel at 7:50. Fiona and Kristen pulled in behind me. I felt so suspicious walking in with them. Why would three grown women in high heels and athletic pants want to get a hotel room tonight? After providing our names and credit card information, the lone receptionist handed us our key cards to room 419 and a large plastic garbage bag. “Everything is ready for you up there.”

Walking away, I asked Fiona, “how did she know?”

“We find out who is going to be working tonight and slip her a hundred bucks to make sure nobody is staying near our room. Last year we had the entire floor to ourselves.”

“Why the bag?” I questioned as we entered the elevator.

Without responding, she pressed the button for the fourth floor. Her and Kristen began stripping off their pants and coats. It was an awkward chore without removing my heels, but it was done before the door opened. Facing the deserted corridor, Fiona took a deep breath and grabbed my hand.

“No matter what happens tonight, it is supposed to be fun, even if it doesn’t feel that way at the time. Just accept everything you receive.” We stepped out of the elevator in our matching outfits and walked to our room. It felt strange and exhilarating being dressed like that in public, which only added to my excitement. Fiona passed the card through the reader. The light turned green, she turned the handle, and we crossed the threshold.


Moving from the hallway into the room, the scene hit me all at once. Two queen sized bed stripped of everything except the white sheet. Bondage toys: ball gags, handcuffs, collars and leashes, whips, and a few things I didn’t recognize were scattered across the nearest bed. Three cameras positioned around the room would record everything that happened. Someone had leaned a portable chalkboard against the television with three columns: one for Fiona, one for Kristen, and one for me. Most shocking, five black men sat comfortably chatting in the seating area.

“Good evening, ladies. Do you have your contracts signed?”

“Of course, master,” Fiona giggled. We fished our purses out of the garbage bag and handed him the letters.

“Good.” The man approached me. He was huge and towered over my 5’8’’ frame. Reaching out a large hand, he said, “Nice to meet you Caitlin.”

“Nice to meet you.” The man’s big black paw took my delicate white hand in an overly firm grip. I was immediately self-conscious of how I looked, what I was wearing, and what I was doing in this hotel room with five black men. I felt much less sexy and much more vulnerable.

Turning to Fiona, he asked, “Have you explained to your friend what is going on here tonight?”

“Not yet.”

“I think it’s time.