tomascini
Well-Known Member
The book is now available on iTunes.Simply follow the link below and it will take you to it:
Link Removed
The title character, Michael, has become indoctrinated in a Nigerian white-boi slavery camp, and he meets with another white boi-slave, Jason, who was featured in the first book, The Story of Caya. Jason sits with Michael and narrates to him the story of how he and his wife had ended up in similar slave camp being dominated by Black Masters and Mistresses. Also, you get to read about dominatrix, Black Mistress Tiffany, and her husband, Black Master Wale.
Enjoy!
************
"How Kristin and I came to be here?" Jason said to me and then shook his head, a rueful smile on his face, and shrugged his shoulders. "I can't really say. Such things are hard to define. I guess we kind of expected it ... or maybe we were too in love with each other and wanted to find out more about ourselves. Things we just couldn't do back home. Know what I mean?"
I actually didn't, but for the sake of prodding him to tell me his story I nodded my head and told him yes I do know what he meant. In a way I guess I did. My mind recollected when I first tasted my cum ... and the time I ejaculated with Anya's torn panties in my hand. Such wasn't something I could have done back home in Buffalo. Or maybe I was wrong. Either way, I suspected I had to travel halfway around the world to discover that part of me. That part of my psyche that resides in every white man: the thought of wanting to be made a submissive.
We were seated at the corner of the west wall. It was a section that divided us from the white-bitch slaves' hostel. From where we sat we could see some of them doing minor chores like washing the Black Masters' clothes or sweeping the yard. I had been on morning detail all day and had finished having my lunch break and having nothing else to do had left Eamon alone inside the hostel in search of Jason whom I'd met seated here. He told me this was his favourite spot. He sat here so to see if he could spot Kristin strolling by. Yes, he had seen her a couple of times, and no, he'd never once called out to her. It wouldn't be wise if he did. Besides, she'd probably report him to her Black Master who'd quell his feelings for him so he didn't want that. He was more content this way. He loved the lifestyle they both practised. He loved being submissive to black men and women and knew his woman too enjoyed it. He talked about his Black Master with a feeling akin to love.
I was curious to know more about him and it took some prodding to get him to open up, which he did.
"Kristin and I met in college," he told me as we sat there under the shade of an Udara tree. "She was a top cheerleader and me, I was a science major. My Dad wanted me to go into the military just like him. He was a racist and hated anything black or Mexican or foreign, including Brits. I wanted nothing to do with war; I wanted to run an NGO instead and Kristin and I had made plans of getting engaged. We came down to Nigeria and stayed in a hotel down in Lagos."
He paused. I thought maybe I'd said something to discourage him and I nudged him with my elbow to go on. Then he continued.
"And that was where we met her," he said.
"Who's her?"
Silent for a minute, then he began his tale ...
***
"Her name is Mistress Tiffany. We met her on our third night at the hotel, her and her husband, Master Wale. He was a businessman, import and export, and they'd just returned from some trip abroad, or so they told us. It was Kristin who first met with them at the hotel's swimming pool while I' gone back upstairs as I'd forgotten her sun-block cream and returned with it to see her sharing a laughter with the Nigerian couple. We got introduced and they invited us to have dinner with them later. They were the first friends we were having since we arrived in the country; Kristin was quite flattered and Master Wale seemed to be quite a charmer. Something happened that afternoon when we returned to our suite. We had sex. Not just any type of sex, I'm talking hungry crazy sex. The type of sex that's least expecting, that you aren't thinking about even though you are somehow—I shut the door and Kristin jumped on me, kissing me all over and I too had the hunger and we found the couch and she kept moaning for me to fuck her harder ... and I did. I came inside of her. She wasn't in her period then and she was being regular on the pill, and I was happy about that. I hadn't much savings and wasn't looking forward to starting a family just yet; neither was she."
"Evening came and we went down and meet with Master Wale and his wife. Damn, that was one pretty-looking black woman. Never met any woman who's that gorgeous: tall with just the right shape of hips, kind of like that Beyonce chick, know what I mean? Kristin noticed it and I guess she felt kind of intimidated by the woman. I was too. I sat next to her and she and I talked stuff while Kristin and her husband made conversation. I couldn't make out whatever they were saying—Mistress Tiffany had my full concentration. At one time she rubbed her hand across my thigh. At first I thought I was just ... nothing, you know. Then she went and did it again and that sent a lot of butterflies travelling down my spine, I'll tell you. I didn't know what was going with Kristine but later when we said goodnight to Wale and Tiffany and went back to our room ... she came at me even before I had the door open. Matter of fact we almost didn't make it to the bedroom. We did it right there on the floor."
He laughed at this junction.
"It was amazing. It was crazy. The stuff that flew out of Kristin's mouth while she rode me. She kept hitting my ribs with her knees I thought I was going to break something but at the same time I didn't care; I actually didn't. I was hitting her back; I wouldn't stop fucking her. The more she yelped, the more I wasn't to bury my cock deep inside her. But the funny thing is all the time I was fucking her, it wasn't her I was picturing. It was Mistress Tiffany. I got to learn later that she too had her own fantasy going on in her head while we were fucking. She told me she pictured Tiffany's husband, Master Wale, pounding her. She opened up to me after we'd made love that night and told me while I and Tiffany had been talking that Wale had his hand running up her thigh. At first she'd felt disgusted by it and wanted to slap his hand off, but then she looked across to us and saw how relaxed I was with his wife and she thought what the hell. I asked what they'd talked about. She said this and that. He'd asked if she was enjoying her time in Nigeria and then told me some naughty stuff ... of course she didn't tell me what naughty stuff they talked about, but listening to her giggle I figured it involved sex or something close to it."
Go here for the rest: Link Removed
Link Removed
The title character, Michael, has become indoctrinated in a Nigerian white-boi slavery camp, and he meets with another white boi-slave, Jason, who was featured in the first book, The Story of Caya. Jason sits with Michael and narrates to him the story of how he and his wife had ended up in similar slave camp being dominated by Black Masters and Mistresses. Also, you get to read about dominatrix, Black Mistress Tiffany, and her husband, Black Master Wale.
Enjoy!
************
************"How Kristin and I came to be here?" Jason said to me and then shook his head, a rueful smile on his face, and shrugged his shoulders. "I can't really say. Such things are hard to define. I guess we kind of expected it ... or maybe we were too in love with each other and wanted to find out more about ourselves. Things we just couldn't do back home. Know what I mean?"
I actually didn't, but for the sake of prodding him to tell me his story I nodded my head and told him yes I do know what he meant. In a way I guess I did. My mind recollected when I first tasted my cum ... and the time I ejaculated with Anya's torn panties in my hand. Such wasn't something I could have done back home in Buffalo. Or maybe I was wrong. Either way, I suspected I had to travel halfway around the world to discover that part of me. That part of my psyche that resides in every white man: the thought of wanting to be made a submissive.
We were seated at the corner of the west wall. It was a section that divided us from the white-bitch slaves' hostel. From where we sat we could see some of them doing minor chores like washing the Black Masters' clothes or sweeping the yard. I had been on morning detail all day and had finished having my lunch break and having nothing else to do had left Eamon alone inside the hostel in search of Jason whom I'd met seated here. He told me this was his favourite spot. He sat here so to see if he could spot Kristin strolling by. Yes, he had seen her a couple of times, and no, he'd never once called out to her. It wouldn't be wise if he did. Besides, she'd probably report him to her Black Master who'd quell his feelings for him so he didn't want that. He was more content this way. He loved the lifestyle they both practised. He loved being submissive to black men and women and knew his woman too enjoyed it. He talked about his Black Master with a feeling akin to love.
I was curious to know more about him and it took some prodding to get him to open up, which he did.
"Kristin and I met in college," he told me as we sat there under the shade of an Udara tree. "She was a top cheerleader and me, I was a science major. My Dad wanted me to go into the military just like him. He was a racist and hated anything black or Mexican or foreign, including Brits. I wanted nothing to do with war; I wanted to run an NGO instead and Kristin and I had made plans of getting engaged. We came down to Nigeria and stayed in a hotel down in Lagos."
He paused. I thought maybe I'd said something to discourage him and I nudged him with my elbow to go on. Then he continued.
"And that was where we met her," he said.
"Who's her?"
Silent for a minute, then he began his tale ...
***
"Her name is Mistress Tiffany. We met her on our third night at the hotel, her and her husband, Master Wale. He was a businessman, import and export, and they'd just returned from some trip abroad, or so they told us. It was Kristin who first met with them at the hotel's swimming pool while I' gone back upstairs as I'd forgotten her sun-block cream and returned with it to see her sharing a laughter with the Nigerian couple. We got introduced and they invited us to have dinner with them later. They were the first friends we were having since we arrived in the country; Kristin was quite flattered and Master Wale seemed to be quite a charmer. Something happened that afternoon when we returned to our suite. We had sex. Not just any type of sex, I'm talking hungry crazy sex. The type of sex that's least expecting, that you aren't thinking about even though you are somehow—I shut the door and Kristin jumped on me, kissing me all over and I too had the hunger and we found the couch and she kept moaning for me to fuck her harder ... and I did. I came inside of her. She wasn't in her period then and she was being regular on the pill, and I was happy about that. I hadn't much savings and wasn't looking forward to starting a family just yet; neither was she."
"Evening came and we went down and meet with Master Wale and his wife. Damn, that was one pretty-looking black woman. Never met any woman who's that gorgeous: tall with just the right shape of hips, kind of like that Beyonce chick, know what I mean? Kristin noticed it and I guess she felt kind of intimidated by the woman. I was too. I sat next to her and she and I talked stuff while Kristin and her husband made conversation. I couldn't make out whatever they were saying—Mistress Tiffany had my full concentration. At one time she rubbed her hand across my thigh. At first I thought I was just ... nothing, you know. Then she went and did it again and that sent a lot of butterflies travelling down my spine, I'll tell you. I didn't know what was going with Kristine but later when we said goodnight to Wale and Tiffany and went back to our room ... she came at me even before I had the door open. Matter of fact we almost didn't make it to the bedroom. We did it right there on the floor."
He laughed at this junction.
"It was amazing. It was crazy. The stuff that flew out of Kristin's mouth while she rode me. She kept hitting my ribs with her knees I thought I was going to break something but at the same time I didn't care; I actually didn't. I was hitting her back; I wouldn't stop fucking her. The more she yelped, the more I wasn't to bury my cock deep inside her. But the funny thing is all the time I was fucking her, it wasn't her I was picturing. It was Mistress Tiffany. I got to learn later that she too had her own fantasy going on in her head while we were fucking. She told me she pictured Tiffany's husband, Master Wale, pounding her. She opened up to me after we'd made love that night and told me while I and Tiffany had been talking that Wale had his hand running up her thigh. At first she'd felt disgusted by it and wanted to slap his hand off, but then she looked across to us and saw how relaxed I was with his wife and she thought what the hell. I asked what they'd talked about. She said this and that. He'd asked if she was enjoying her time in Nigeria and then told me some naughty stuff ... of course she didn't tell me what naughty stuff they talked about, but listening to her giggle I figured it involved sex or something close to it."
Go here for the rest: Link Removed