Black Mamba

By moc.loa@1onikreM

Published on Aug 31, 2001

Authoritarian

Most of the following is true. I'll leave it to the reader to judge what is fact and what is fantasy. Until six months ago I was known as John Evers. Blonde, five foot seven, slightly built and heterosexual, I had just gone through divorce after a stormy six year marriage. Not into the bar scene and at loose ends for things to do in my spare time, I decided to redecorate the house the way I wanted it. The first order of business was to completely repaint the interior which I proceeded to do. After prepping and painting every night for two weeks, I was ready for a break from the tedium and the paint fumes. It was early on a Saturday afternoon and figuring to watch a football game and have a few beers I stopped at a bar that I had previously noticed a few miles from where I lived.

It was cool and dark inside, a welcome relief from the hot bright sun. Sliding on to a stool and ordering a long neck, I perused the place. As my eyes became adjusted to the gloom, I noticed right off that all the customers were men. Glancing towards the small dance floor I saw that two guys were slow dancing to a Tina Cole tune.

Gay bar! Not a big deal. Having had a sexual affair with an older man when I was in my late teens I'm not one to throw stones. I settled in to enjoy the game and do some serious beer drinking.

It was half way through the game and I was half way through my fifth long neck when nature called. I made my way, just a tad wobbly, to the rest rooms. I had to go pretty bad so I hurriedly opened the first door I came to. On my way through the door, I noticed that it said "WOMEN.'"

Who cares! This is a gay bar. Right? Upon entering I saw a guy standing before the mirror painting his lips with bright red lipstick and a tall black chick leaving a stall. As we passed, eye contact was made and she winked. Blushing furiously, I ducked into the stall that she had vacated.

As I stood there, relieving my self, my thoughts went back to the tall black chick. "She" was absolutely gorgeous. Over six feet tall, in white knee high boots with three inch heels, a tight bubble ass, what looked to me as thirty-six C teats and a face that was wild and sultry. She was wearing a white leather mini skirt and pesant blouse That contrasted beautifully with her mocha skin. Probably endowed with at least a six inch "clit," my member began to stir and I knew that I had to have "her".

Returning to my stool I looked around but alas my Black Goddess was gone. Settling in and catching up on my beer drinking, she was almost a thought of the past, when I felt a presence climbing on to the stool beside me. I was turned slightly away, content on the game, so it came as a complete shock to me when in my ear, in a throaty voice, I heard,

"Hi, honey. Wanta party? Saw you in the ladies room."

I flushed with embarrassment when I realized it was my black goddess. All I could do was gawk at her stupidly and nod my head "yes." I knew she was a guy, but I had to have her. My dick was diamond hard when we negotiated the price of the party. It was a stiff price, almost as stiff as me, but still a bargain as far as I was concerned. We would go to a motel for the night and do obscene things for an obscene amount of money.

We spent the next hour or two becoming aquatinted. She told me that Jennifer is her name and domination is her game and that she is a pre-op TV that gets turned on fulfilling men's desires.... For a price.

I was intrigued and pretty much told her everything about myself. My homosexual affair [I was the passive] in my teens and the fact that I was still a virgin anally. My marriage and divorce and yes, even some of my fantasies. Jennifer is knock out gorgeous and I was totally captivated and we soon moved to a booth.

Sitting side by side in a semi isolated booth after sharing our life stories, Jennifer said, "Honey, you've had way to many beers to drive. My place is a block and a half from here and we can go there instead of a motel, if you pass a small test. Yes, or no?"

"Sure, why not" I said. I figured that if I didn't like the test I could fail it on purpose. Of course I would probably go home drunk with a set of very with blue balls and never see her again. "What's the test"?

"I have to go to the powder room honey" was her reply. "I'll tell you when I get back. In the meantime you think about the test." While telling me this in her super sexy, slightly husky voice, she was massaging the inside of my thigh, real close to the head of my swollen cock. I was petrified that I would cum and the evening would end before it began. I decided then and there that I would do my best to pass her little test and get some much needed sexual relief.

"I want you to do something for me" she said sliding into the booth. "Go to the ladies room and put these on."

Jennifer handed me what looked like a piece of rumpled cloth. It was her panties! They were hot pink thong panties and they had a wet spot in the crotch, that I assumed was pre cum. Her hand was once again beneath the table rubbing my thigh, I nodded meekly and listened carefully to the rest of the task.

"You are to carry these to the ladies room and exchange them for your shorts. While you are there, you are to apply this lipstick" she ordered. "You will notice that the color matches my nail polish, shoes, the lipstick I have on and "your soiled" panties. Any one that sees us together will know that you are spoken for and wont hit on you."

Clutching the panties in one hand and the lipstick in the other, I made my way to the ladies room. Thank heavens there was no one in there. Ducking into a stall I quickly swaped my jocky shorts for the panties. They were lace mesh and as I pulled them over my cock the texture against my glans and the feel of the wet spot had my cock standing at attention. Also the thong stretched across my butt hole added to the sensuous effect. With my cock pressed against my stomach, I had to struggle to button my levies. Now for the lipstick.

I stood before the mirror, placed my jockey's on the sink, formed my mouth into an O and began to coat my lips with the hot pink gloss. While blotting my lips as I had seen my ex do, the door opened and another "gal" entered the room. She looked at the underware on the sink and my painted lips and said knowingly, "Love the color sugar. You must be with Jen." Flaming with embarrassment, I nodded yes and hurriedly left the rest room.

My face was a deep crimson as I made my way back to the booth. I felt that everyone was looking at me, knowing that I was wearing panties and sporting a raging hardon. My painted lips were certainly obvious and so were the shorts I carried in my hand. As I neared the booth I put a little wiggle into my ass for Jennifer's benefit. Jennifer beamed her approval when I sat down. Her hand quickly dipped beneath the table and began rubbing my engorged cock.

"You like wearing my panties don't you" she whispered hotly into my ear.

"Yes I do", I replied honestly, they feel so sensual".

"You'll have to buy a smaller pair when you get a chance. Also you need to learn how to tuck your equipment to eliminate that unsightly bulge. You had every faggot in here drooling as soon as you left the restroom". This confirmed my earlier suspicion and sounded to me like Jen thought I'd be doing this again. I don't think so.

"You passed the test" Jennifer said "Let's have a glass of Champaign to celebrate and then we'll go to my place for fun and games or fucking and sucking if you prefer.

"The sooner we can do the fucking and sucking, the better" was my inelegant reply.

"Great" Jen exclaimed. "There is one last thing. When the waiter takes our order, you are to hand him your undies and ask him to dispose of them. You see sweetums you won't be needing them anymore".

I was shocked. The thought of me handing the waiter my shorts had me flushing bright red. Add to that, talking to him and drawing attention to my hot pink lips absolutely mortified me. Strangely enough though I felt my cock straining painfully hard against my panties. Good grief! I thought of them as "my" panties. I was astounded. With down cast eyes and head tilted submissively, I heard myself say "Anything you desire my black goddess. It would give me great pleasure to make you happy."

"MMMMMM. We'll see about that when I get your cute little pink ass to my place and start feeding you some black meat. You need a strong woman to guide you down the path to witch you are about to embark. I've decided to make you my bitch. Would you like to be my bitch?

Yet again I was shocked. Is this what I wanted? What would being her bitch entail? Granted, judging by the size of "her", she probably had a very large cock. I had never had it in the ass before but I figured it would be part of being her bitch. My pucker ring began to tingle in anticipation. Bowing my head meekly I answered "More than anything in life".

With those words my fate was sealed. I've sence discovered that being someones bitch is the same as being their sex slave. My name is now Vanessa. Your response will determine weather the rest of my journey and the depth of my degradation is told. Comments are always welcome.

Vanessa

Next: Chapter 2


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