A Young Couple From The Deep South Offend The Wrong Man And His Dog free porn video

There are people who will not like some of the things
that I write in this story. If you are of the opinion
that the south will rise again (or that it should), if
you are convinced that the American Civil War was
fought for financial reasons or to secure state’s
rights then I highly recommend that you skip this
story. Some of the things I write here will offend your
sensibilities.

I will admit that a lot of what happened to me is a
result of my racist upbringing. If I had not been
raised in a small southern town by racist parents and
if all of my friends had not been racist I might not
have done the things that I did. For it was my
misguided actions that triggered the events that I’m
writing about, events that changed the lives of both me
and my husband. I’m not saying that I deserved what
happened to me, or what is still happening to me. But I
can’t deny that I brought it on myself.

My husband and I met in college, Ole Miss of course. We
met in our sophomore year and dated a few times. We
dated off and on in our junior year too. It seemed that
we got a little better at it each time. By half way
through our senior year we were, well, maybe not
engaged yet, but we had an understanding.

We got married as soon as we graduated. We had both
been hired right after graduation by the same company.
My new husband, Paul, is the same age as me, twenty-
three. My parents loved him. He is a southern boy from
a town on the other side of the state. But we had the
same basic upbringing and the same values.

Paul was very smart and very good looking. He was not a
jock by any means. That was okay with me. I wasn’t fond
of jocks. He was five foot ten, slender, not muscular
but quite fit. He had a smile that could melt glass and
a warm personality. Everyone loved Paul and I was proud
that he was my husband.

I guess I should describe myself as well. My name is
Jolie. I stand five feet tall and weigh right at a
hundred pounds when my hair is wet. I have shoulder
length blonde hair and I don’t wish to sound vain but
I’m pretty good looking myself.

I have a nice figure. My breasts are B cups. That may
not sound big, but on my small frame they look just
right. They are perky and very sensitive. I have what
my husband describes as a “butt like a fifteen year
old.” I’m assuming he is referring to the way it sits
up high and tight like a young girl’s.

The reason that Paul and I kept getting back together
every time we split up was that we both loved sex and
when we made love it was magical. We were perfect
together. There was never a time that he didn’t ring my
bells when we had sex. We were both open to just about
anything that two people could do together. All the
normal stuff anyway. There was none of that bondage
stuff or pain or anything, and nothing involving other
people of course. And certainly none of that bathroom
stuff.

That left a lot of room to play though. I loved to kiss
and be touched. I loved it when he ate my pussy and I
loved it nearly as much when I sucked his cock. He is a
very good lover too. We could, and often did fuck for
hours. He has a nice seven inch cock that has never let
me down yet.

The trouble started a little more than a year after we
had been at work at our new jobs as research assistants
for a pharmaceutical firm. We were both making very
good money and had great futures. We were living a
charmed life and we knew it.

Then things changed. A black man moved into the house
next door to ours. Maybe if he had moved in down the
block, just maybe things would have worked out
differently. But our Deep South sensibilities were
really offended by the idea of a black man living right
next door.

We tried to ignore him at first. But just the fact that
he was living next door was a constant irritant. To
make matters worse, he was separated or divorced and
his two teenage sons were always spending weekends and
holidays with him.

A couple of times Paul or I had to chase his kids out
of our yard. I suppose that we could have been a little
more tactful when we did. We said some things that
weren’t very nice.

I yelled at his youngest son one day and called the kid
a couple of names. I guess the kid told his father
because he came to my door that evening and instead of
the apology that he was probably looking for we were
pretty rude to him as well. We didn’t actually call him
names. But we said some things that weren’t very nice
to him too.

I’m sure that you have heard the expression, “If looks
could kill.” That night I saw it. I had never seen such
pure hatred in another person’s eyes. He never said
word. He just stared at me for a second. Then he turned
and walked back to his house.

A chill ran up my spine as he walked away. Paul closed
the door and we went back into the living room and
talked about putting our dream house on the market and
moving away from that man. The trouble was that we had
just bought the house. We owed much more than it was
worth. It would be a couple of years before we could
afford to sell. We were just going to have to put up
with having that man living next door until he moved or
we could sell.

I noticed that the other people on our street didn’t
seem to have a problem with our new neighbor. They
would talk to him when they saw him outside and they
seemed pretty friendly. Soon he was being invited to
neighborhood get-togethers on a regular basis. That
made things uncomfortable for Paul and me. We had been
forced to leave a couple of gatherings because he
showed up.

Cathy, the woman that lived on the other side of me,
came over for coffee one morning not long after he
moved in and went on and on about how nice he was. I
didn’t understand her. She was a good southern girl
just like me! I wanted to say something to her but for
some reason I felt uncomfortable and I just let her go
on until I could change the subject.

Paul and I thought our perfect world had been turned on
its side. Our charmed life had begun to lose some of
its luster. We couldn’t sit around our pool out in the
backyard without thinking that a black man lived next
door and might even be in his back yard at that very
moment. I didn’t feel comfortable wearing my bikini in
my own pool.

It wasn’t like he was doing anything in particular that
we could complain about. His yard was always perfectly
manicured and he certainly didn’t let his house go. He
was quiet. We never heard any of that loud, obnoxious
music that those people listen to. He didn’t have
parties.

It was just that where Paul and I were from the races
didn’t mix. White people didn’t live next door to those
people. It just wasn’t done.

Several weeks after the name calling incident, a
terrible thing happened. Our supervisor had a stroke.
He woke up in the morning and was taking a shower when
it hit him. Everyone was upset. He had been very
popular and a lot of fun to work for. Unfortunately, it
was a pretty major event and he would never recover
enough to return to work.

There were seven of us in our department, not counting
our supervisor. I was the only female in our
department. Most of the guys were in their forties and
fifties. The only exception was Taylor. Taylor was in
his early thirties. I suppose that it was unusual for a
husband and wife to work together the way we did. But
when we had applied for the jobs at a job fair held on
campus we had made it clear to the people that
interviewed us that we were going to be married and
they didn’t have a problem with it.

Everyone got along great at work and we had a really
laid back little group. We were all afraid of what our
new supervisor was going to be like and how he or she
would change the dynamics of our little group.

You may have seen this coming, but Paul and I didn’t.
The plant manager came in one afternoon to introduce
our new supervisor. I almost screamed out loud when it
turned out to be our next door neighbor, whose name was
Mr. Anderson.

Everyone gathered around while the plant manager
introduced him. Paul and I stood behind the others. We
were the most junior anyway and it was probably
appropriate for us to be the last to meet him.

I was scared to death and I am sure that Paul was too.
I could just see our entire future going right down the
drain. I didn’t doubt for a moment that we were about
to lose our jobs and I knew better than to ask what
kind of a reference he would provide.

I could see our entire lives going up in smoke. We
would lose our jobs and our reputations, our house and
our cars. We could never work in our field again. In
fact, we could probably never get another job in any
related area. We were certain to lose our security
clearances when he found some pretext to fire us.

I will give the man credit. There was never a hint in
his face that he recognized us. He didn’t give us dirty
looks or gloat. Nothing! He nodded and shook our hands
when we were finally introduced to him, just exactly
like he greeted our co-workers.

After we were all introduced the plant manager left and
Mr. Anderson smiled and said, “Gentlemen, and lady, I’m
not one to stand on formality. I want you all to call
me Doyal. The name is Gaelic and means ‘dark stranger’.
My grandmother was from Ireland. We are a small
department and will be working closely with each other.
I have your personnel files in my briefcase and if you
can spare me a little time I would like you to join me
in my office one at a time so that I can get to know a
little about you.”

He sounded so reasonable, so pleasant.

He turned to Karl and said, “Karl, I believe that you
have the most seniority. Shall we start with you?”

Karl walked off with Doyal and they chatted pleasantly
about sports as they walked away.

The rest of us went back to work. I don’t think that
the others noticed the look of despair on the faces of
me or my husband. We glanced at each other and I knew
Paul well enough to know that he was thinking the same
thing that I was. Life as we knew it was over. We were
about to lose everything.

We all looked up expectantly when Karl came back. He
was smiling and it was obvious that he liked our new
supervisor. He said, “You’re up next Neal. Nothing to
worry about, he’s a great guy. I’m going to like
working with him. He really knows his stuff too. I’m
really impressed.”

The rest of our co-workers filed out one at a time by
seniority, Neal, Travis, Ron, and Taylor. They all came
back smiling and looking forward to working with Doyal.
When Taylor came out he turned to Paul and me and said,
“Doyal said to send you kids in together since you are
married.”

I dreaded this. But I felt better that I wasn’t going
in there alone. I was terrified. I actually didn’t
think that he would fire us right away. He would keep
us around for a few days or a few weeks and make our
lives hell. Then he would find, or make up, some excuse
to fire us.

Our co-workers finally noticed that we weren’t as happy
about our new supervisor as they were. We got some
curious looks as we headed out into the corridor and
down one door to the small office next to our lab that
now belonged to Doyal Anderson.

We stopped in the corridor and looked at each other. I
could see that Paul was just as scared as I was. That
didn’t do anything to reassure me.

There didn’t seem to be anything to say, so we walked
the fifty feet to his office door. I don’t think I
would have been any more afraid if there was a gallows
in that small office.

Paul tapped on his door and he opened it and held it
for us. We walked in and he waved his hand towards the
two chairs in front of his desk.

We took our seats and he sat down in his chair behind
his large, wooden desk. There were two stacks of
personnel files on his desk. One with the five files of
our co-workers in it and the smaller stack with just
Paul’s and mine. We hadn’t been working here all that
long and our files were much thinner than the others.

Doyal didn’t say a word. He picked up our files, one at
a time, and he flipped through them quickly. He placed
them back on his desk in front of him and looked up at
us. Now, in the privacy of his office, the hate was
back. He nodded at the files and said, “Not much there.
You two don’t have much of a past and now you don’t
have much of a future. You both did very well in
college. So I’m sure that you know what serendipity
means. Karma, fate, chance, what it boils down to is
suddenly I have the lives of two young racists in my
hand. I have to tell you, it feels pretty damned good.”

“I think back to all the insults I have suffered at the
hands of people like you, all the indignities, all the
challenges people like you have thrown in my way at
every turn. I’m not even going to mention the names you
called my son recently. I have to tell you, when I saw
you two in that lab a little while ago I started
looking around for someone to high five.”

“I am going to destroy you. I am going to ruin your
lives and I am going to enjoy it so much that it will
probably give me an erection when I am doing it.”

Paul just sat there stunned. I didn’t speak, I
couldn’t. But I had tears running down my cheeks.

Doyal smiled, a cruel, vindictive smile. He said, “I am
not going to fire you right away. I’m going to play
with you first. I’m going to make your lives hell. I’m
going to wait until you do something, or until I can
make it look like you did something, so terrible that
you won’t be able to get a job cleaning bathrooms in a
gas station.”

He glared at us for a moment longer and said, “You can
get back to work now. I can’t stand to look at you.”

Paul started to get up. I couldn’t. My legs were
trembling and weak. But I couldn’t let it end like
this. As much as it killed me to do it, I had to say
something. I cleared my throat and said, “Please
Doyal…”

He interrupted curtly and snapped, “Sir! You call me
sir, bitch.”

Bitch! I felt like I had been slapped. But still, I
couldn’t let my life end like this. My parents had
mortgaged their home and gone into debt to put me
through college. I had promised them that I would pay
them back. I couldn’t go home to them with my life in
ruins.

I quietly said, “Sir, please don’t do this to us. I’m
sorry for…I’m sorry for everything. We both are. We
shouldn’t have said the things that we did. We
just…it’s the way we were raised. I know it’s wrong.
Please sir, I’m so sorry.”

His expression never changed. He said, “You are only
sorry that I am your supervisor and hold your lives in
my hand. In your mind I am nothing but an uppity nigger
who has no right living in your neighborhood and no
right doing anything but janitor work and yard work for
white people.”

He was right of course. But I was right too. It’s the
way we were raised to think. I know that isn’t much of
an excuse. I had friends in high school that had
developed friendships with black people. But of course
we had unpleasant names for people like that too.

It had been even more prevalent in college, even the
college that we had attended in the Deep South. It had
never failed to upset Paul and me when we saw groups of
kids getting on so well despite their different races.
And when we saw a black boy with a white girl, well, we
just never could deal with that!

The tears were flowing freely now and I don’t think I
was really capable of reason. But I couldn’t just give
up. I couldn’t let it end like this.

I wiped my eyes and said, “Please sir. I’m begging you.
Give us a chance. Give us a chance to change. We’ll do
anything, but we can’t let our lives be destroyed like
this.”

He glared at us for a moment. I didn’t think for a
moment he would relent. His face never changed
expression. He hated us, and I suppose he had every
right.

A long silence passed before he leaned back in his
chair and quietly said, “I don’t believe you.”

I wasn’t certain what it was that I had said that he
didn’t believe. But it was an opening. I quickly
responded, “I will sir! We will! We will change. I
promise you!”

He had a strange look on his face, almost a smile and I
didn’t know what was going through his mind until he
said, “No, bitch. I don’t believe that you will.”

Was that a straw? I wasn’t sure if he was just toying
with me or if he was actually suggesting that there was
room for compromise. I grasped at it though. I had to.

“I swear it, sir! I…we will do anything to make it up
to you. We can’t let our lives be destroyed like this.
Please sir. I’m begging you. Give us a chance.”

He actually smirked then. It wasn’t reassuring. He
clasped his hands behind his neck and leaned back in
his chair and said, “Stand up.”

We quickly got to our feet and stood quaking in fear in
front of his desk.

He left us like that for a moment before he said, “I
don’t believe it, bitch. I don’t believe you will do
anything. I don’t believe that you can. I doubt if you
are capable of it. But I’m willing to give you a chance
to prove it if you want.”

I swear, I actually thought he was relenting. The
pressure in my chest started to let up and I could
actually breathe. I quickly responded, “I can sir! I
will! We both will. Please give us a chance.”

He answered quietly, “Okay. I don’t think you have
thought this out very well. But I’m willing to give you
a chance.”

He turned to my husband and said, “Paul, I want you to
go over there and lock my office door. Then I want you
to come back over here and undress your bitch for me.”

I heard Paul make a sound like he had been punched in
the gut. He grabbed my hand and started to pull me
toward the door. My legs wouldn’t move. I collapsed on
the floor and covered my face and cried loudly. I can’t
even describe my thoughts. To be honest, I don’t know
if I was actually thinking. I was just feeling. I was
feeling total despair, and total desperation.

I started to get my hysterical tears under control. I
wiped my eyes on my lab coat sleeves again and I looked
up to see Doyal smiling down at me, enjoying my
distress.

I struggled to my feet and pleaded, “Please sir, that
isn’t what I meant.”

He just kept smiling. He said, “I didn’t think that it
was you silly bitch. But it is what I meant. If you two
want to keep your jobs here then you have only one
option. You become my slaves. Don’t you think that’s
fitting?”

“After all,” he continued, “that’s what your ancestors
did with my ancestors. You made them slaves. They were
humiliated and degraded. They were bought, sold and
traded like a common commodity. They were whipped and
abused and raped and even killed on a whim. And once my
ancestors were freed, by force I might add, you
continued to make their lives hell. You denied them an
education. You denied them a decent place to live. You
denied them good jobs and you denied them the right to
vote. We had to fight your kind for every step forward
that we made. And even now, you two, and those of your
ilk, are still fighting against equality for my
people.”

I was holding onto the back of my chair now. I wasn’t
sure that I could stand unsupported. I looked into
those cold eyes and in a quavering voice I whispered,
“I don’t think… I can’t… how can I… oh please,
sir!”

His expression never changed. He smiled that cold smile
and said, “Get out. I’m done with you. But if I were
you I’d put that nice house of yours on the market. You
won’t be able to afford it in a few weeks.”

Paul gently pulled at my wrist, trying to guide me to
the door. I whirled around to face him and hissed, “NO!
Paul I won’t let it be over. I can’t. If we don’t do
what he wants then we might as well kill ourselves. My
parents will lose their home. We will lose everything
we own. What kind of jobs do you think we will be able
to get after we get fired and lose our clearances?! I
refuse to end up living in a single-wide trailer on the
edge of town and working at…working where Paul? No
one would hire us. Do you want to live on welfare the
rest of your life? Do you think that there is a future
in picking up aluminum cans on the side of the road?”

Paul looked like an animal caught in a trap. He
couldn’t look any more stunned if Doyal had popped him
in the forehead with a two-by-four. I took a deep
breath and said, “Paul. Go lock the door.”

He shook his head and tried to grab my wrist again. I
pulled away and hissed, “No god damn it! We have to do
this. We don’t have a choice. Go lock the damned door!”

I could see Doyal out of the corner of my eye. He
hadn’t moved and his expression hadn’t changed. No
matter what Paul and I did in the next few minutes, he
was enjoying the hell out of our suffering.

Paul still hadn’t moved. I grabbed the lapels of his
lab coat and quietly said, “Paul, we can talk about
this later. But you are a smart man. That was one of
the things that attracted me to you. You know as well
as I do that we don’t have any other option. We have to
do what he wants. Please honey. Go lock the door.”

Paul stared at me for a second and then he reluctantly
turned to Doyal and asked, “You just want to see her
naked, right? Just this once? I take her clothes off
and then she gets dressed and you have had your
revenge. You will have humiliated us. If we do that we
keep our jobs and we forget all about this, right?”

Doyal answered in a condescending voice one might use
with an idiot, “No you dumb fuck! I told you just a few
minutes ago. Weren’t you listening? You become my
slaves. You will be my slaves until I get reassigned or
you leave here, or until I get tired of you. You will
do anything I tell you to do. You will do it anywhere I
tell you to do it and with anyone with whom I tell you
to do it. In case there is any question in your minds,
I am going to fuck your hot little bitch of a wife. She
is going to suck my cock whenever I’m in the mood. And
it won’t be just me. I have a lot of friends that would
enjoy a piece of her ass.”

“As for you Paul, you don’t do anything for me
personally. I can’t speak for some of my weirder
friends. I will enjoy humiliating you though. Since I
don’t plan to fuck your skinny ass I’ll have to find
other ways to make your life a living hell. It wouldn’t
be fair if Jolie was the only one suffering. But it’s
up to you. I don’t give a shit one way or the other.
I’m going to enjoy it immensely no matter which route
you choose. Now is the time to choose though. I am
enjoying this very much. Watching you two suffer has
made my whole year. But I have a lot to do. So either
do what I told you to do or go back to the lab and get
to work.”

Paul stared at Doyal as if in shock for a moment, then
he stared at me. He finally turned and walked slowly
toward the door. I watched him cross the room. His
shoulders were slumped and he walked like he was going
to his death. He turned the handle and the lock made a
loud metallic clicking sound that seemed to seal our
fate. He turned without looking up from the floor and
crossed the office to stand beside me once more.

I felt sorry for Paul. I figured that our marriage
would soon be over. I was about to be raped by a black
man and I was certain that Paul couldn’t see that and
still have anything to do with me afterwards. Once Paul
started to undress me he could never look at me the
same again. I understood though. It was the way we were
raised.

Paul gave me an apologetic look. You may find it hard
to believe but I could see that this was nearly as hard
for him as it was for me. When he could delay no longer
he reached for my lab coat.

Doyal called to him, “Wait! Not like that. Jolie, turn
and face me. Paul, stand behind her and reach around
and undress her. I would like to tell you to take your
time but we have already been in here as long as I kept
your co-workers. They are going to wonder what is going
on. So you might want to pick up the pace a little.”

I turned to face Doyal and Paul moved behind me. I
closed my eyes as his hands reached for my lab coat and
removed it.

He dropped it on the chair where I had been sitting. I
felt his arms reach around me to unbutton my blouse. He
was still working on the top button with shaking
fingers when Doyal said, “Jolie, open your eyes. Look
at me.”

I opened my eyes. That was the easy part. I had been
about to lose my balance with my eyes closed anyway.
The hard part was looking Doyal in the eye. I didn’t
want to see him looking at my body as Paul uncovered
it. I didn’t want to see lust in his eyes. I didn’t
want to see pleasure. I had to remind myself, I was a
slave now. What I wanted wasn’t important.

I stood as steadily as I could as Paul unbuttoned my
blouse. I stared uneasily into Doyal’s eyes. I had
never been so embarrassed in my life, or so scared.

Paul pulled the blouse out of my skirt and unbuttoned
the last button. Just before he pulled it off he
whispered, “I’m sorry Jolie.”

Then he slowly pulled it down off of my shoulders and
slid it down my arms. He dropped it on the chair with
my lab coat. Next he struggled with the button and then
the zipper in the back of my skirt.

He hesitated before letting my skirt fall. I guess that
it’s a good thing that he was being forced to undress
me. I don’t think that I could have done it. The blood
was pounding in my head and I was feeling dizzy. I
could actually feel my heart beating wildly in my
chest!

I kept my eyes focused on Doyal as my skirt pooled at
my feet. Paul bent down and I held onto the back of the
chair to steady myself as I stepped out of my skirt.
Paul picked it up and placed it neatly on the chair.
Then he started removing my pantyhose.

As he worked them down my legs, Doyal said, “I don’t
want you to wear those again. I hate them. I’ll let you
wear panties for a while, until I make up mind about
them. I kind of like to see a sexy young woman in her
panties. They are a barrier between me and your cunt,
but they turn me on. However, I detest pantyhose.”

I whispered, “Yes sir.”

When my hose were on the growing pile of clothing on
the chair, Paul stood up and began to tug on the clasp
that held my bra in place. It wasn’t easy for him. It
was harder for me.

I was not a virgin when I met Paul. I had been with
several boys before him. But there had been none since
Paul. And I had never been undressed in front of a
black man. I was terrified. I stood before him now in a
plain white bra and a pair of pink panties and I know
for a fact that I had not been this nervous on the
evening when I lost my virginity to Michael Gavin on a
blanket beside Astor’s pond in the eleventh grade.

I felt the clasp come loose and the cups began to fall
away from my breasts. The arrogant look on Doyal’s face
was not the look I was accustomed to when a boy was
about to see my breasts. Normally I was just as excited
by baring my breasts to a boy, after an appropriate
period spent kissing and petting, as the boy that was
about to be honored by my nudity.

I was not excited now. I felt so degraded. It was
almost enough to take my mind off of the despair I felt
at the impending end to my marriage.

Paul was reaching for my panties when Doyal stopped him
and said, “Not yet Paul. Her tits are marred by the
marks that come from being imprisoned by her bra. Reach
around and massage them for her. Work them a little.
And get those nipples hard for me. I like to see a
bitch with her nipples standing up and begging for
attention.”

I normally enjoy very much the touch of Paul’s hands on
my breasts. This time I hated it. I hated it in part
because as much as my mind screamed it’s defiance, when
his fingers began to tease my nipples they quickly
became hard and erect. I wasn’t aroused of course. I
was horrified by what was happening to me.

Doyal watched with an amused expression on his face for
several minutes before he said, “Okay. She looks like
she’s starting to enjoy it. I don’t want that. Finish
undressing her. I want to see her cunt.”

I shuddered in fear and revulsion as Paul grasped the
waistband of my underwear and slid them down off of my
hips and down my legs. I stepped out of them and stood,
naked now, in front of my new supervisor, the black man
who now lived next door to me.

He stared at me for a moment and then he sat up in his
chair and crooked his finger, indicating that he wanted
me to stand beside his chair.

I muttered, “Oh god. I can’t do this.”

But I did. I slowly circled around his desk and stood
beside his chair while he stared at my body, my naked
body. He smiled up at me and his large fingers began to
explore my breasts. In a conversational tone he said,
“I prefer bigger tits, but these look alright on your
little body. I bet it’s really tearing you up isn’t it?
A black man is touching your little tits. Just imagine
how you’re going to feel when my big, black cock is
rammed up your tight little pink pussy. That’s going to
really pull at your racist, redneck sensibilities.”

His hand crawled down my belly like a big black spider.
His fingertips teased my pubic hair before they dipped
into the tight opening between my legs. I saw him
chuckle and he held his finger up to show me how wet it
was.

I was more shocked than he was! How could my body
possibly react like that to this prelude to rape?!

The tears were running off my cheeks in a steady stream
now. They were falling onto my breasts and then
dripping off of my nipples. Doyal placed his finger,
still wet with my juices, against my nipple which was
damp with my tears. His finger circled my nipple which
quickly grew erect once more.

When my nipple was erect he squeezed it lightly. He
smiled that arrogant smile and said, “I think I’m going
to have to get these pierced. I have always thought
that women like you would look good in a slave collar
with matching nipple jewelry.”

I almost fainted. I had never even had my ears pierced.
I was terrified of needles. And my opinion of the type
of woman who would pierce her nipples…well, in my
mind they were nothing but prostitute wanna-be’s.

Doyal finally glanced at the clock and said, “The day
may come when you can work dressed the way you are now.
Unfortunately that day is not today. Put your blouse
and skirt on.”

He sat and watched me as I moved back around his desk
and reached for my panties. In a stern voice he said,
“You had better start paying attention, bitch. I told
you to put your blouse and skirt on. I didn’t say
anything about underwear.”

I dressed quickly. There wasn’t much for me to put on.
I stared at the floor as I dressed. I couldn’t stand
the thought of looking at Doyal or my husband. Oh god!
What must Paul be thinking of me now? A black man had
seen me naked. He had touched me. His finger had been
inside of me!

When I was dressed, Paul and I waited for permission to
leave Doyal’s office. It was getting late and we didn’t
have time for much more than putting our work away and
cleaning up our work area.

Before he let us go, Doyal said, “Roll your waistband
over a few times bitch. I’ll be at your house after I
get off tonight. I expect to be fed. After I’ve fucked
you we will go through your clothes and see if you have
any clothes worth keeping. We are going to want your
cunt to be much easier to get to from now on. Now get
out. You may be a sexy young cunt but you disgust me.
And don’t close that lab coat, bitch.”

Paul held the door for me and we stepped out into the
corridor. We turned to face each other and finally I
looked him in the eyes and tried to see what he was
thinking. People were starting to leave now and we
didn’t dare speak. I simply said, “I’m sorry Paul.”

He looked confused. He responded in a whisper, “You’re
sorry? Jolie! You don’t think…Jolie! I don’t blame
you. I don’t hold what happened in there against you.
Hell! I’m the one that took your clothes off! I should
be apologizing to you!”

We couldn’t say more. There were too many people
around. We returned to our lab. I almost buttoned my
lab coat without thinking. I doubted if anyone would
notice any difference in my dress. It wasn’t obvious
that I was no longer wearing a bra. I didn’t think
anyone would notice that I was no longer wearing hose
or that my skirt was two inches shorter. Still, I
couldn’t help feeling more vulnerable for letting Doyal
control my manner of dress.

We got strange looks from our co-workers as we re-
entered our lab. They had each spent fifteen or twenty
minutes in Doyal’s office. Paul and I had been in with
him for nearly an hour.

But that wasn’t the only difference. The five men that
we work with had all come back into the lab smiling and
looking forward to working with Doyal. Not Paul and
certainly not me. Our faces were white and drawn and
neither of us was capable of smiling.

We moved to our work areas in silence and began to
prepare to leave for the day. As I put my work away I
felt a hand on my shoulder. I just about jumped right
out of my skin. I turned to see Karl looking at me with
a concerned look on his face. He asked, “Is something
wrong Jolie? You and Paul look like you just got chewed
out. Do you need us to speak to Doyal for you? I don’t
know what the problem is but we all like you and we
know what good workers you are. You know we’ll back you
up if you need us.”

I struggled to smile at him. He was a very nice man.
All of our co-workers were. I thanked him and tried to
assure him that everything was alright. It must have
been obvious that it wasn’t. But what else could I say?

We said goodnight to our co-workers and left at the
usual time, 4:30 PM. Our plant had staggered hours so
that everyone wasn’t coming to work and leaving at the
same time. But there was still a crush of people
pouring out through the various exits to the building
and swarming over the parking lot.

Paul and I walked in silence to our car and once we
were safely inside with the engine running and the air
conditioner working at full blast to dissipate the
superheated air in the car we sat staring straight
ahead and giving the parking lot time to clear out a
little.

It was a long time before either of us spoke. I said,
“It’s okay Paul. I know what you must be thinking. I
won’t be a problem for you.”

Paul turned in his seat with that confused look on his
face again and asked, “You said that before, Jolie.
What is it that you think you know? What are you
talking about? You don’t think that I blame you for
what just happened, or what is going to happen, do
you?”

I stared straight ahead. I knew that he was trying to
do the right thing. He was saying what he thought he
needed to say. But I knew how his mind worked. I knew
what I would have been thinking if I were in his place.

I quietly said, “No Paul. I know that you don’t blame
me. But I know what you must think of me now. I know
what you would think if I tried to kiss you now. I know
what would be going through your mind if we tried to
make love. A black man saw me naked. A black man
touched me. A black man put his finger inside of me.
And tonight a black man is going to…”

For a moment I couldn’t even say it. It was
unthinkable. Finally I sobbed, “A black man is going to
fuck me.”

Paul moved closer to me and put his arms around me. I
struggled to push him away but he held me in his arms
and pulled me to him. I finally stopped struggling and
I realized that he was crying quietly too.

I had never seen him cry and it scared the hell out of
me. I whispered, “Don’t cry baby. I won’t…”

He interrupted to say, “Shut up Jolie! I’m not going
anywhere. Or at least I’m not going anywhere without
you. I love you. I loved you this morning and I love
you now and I’m going to love you tomorrow morning.”

“I will admit that if you had asked me this morning
then I would have assumed that I would feel the things
you think I must be feeling now. Much to my own
surprise I don’t. I don’t know why. I just know that no
matter what happens I love you very much and I am not
going to stop loving you. I’m certainly not going to
stop loving you because our next door neighbor has
raped you.”

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me. We
are going to have to survive some hard times. I don’t
doubt that they are going to be harder for you than me.
But I can’t imagine life without you. We will find a
way to get through this. Just remember that no matter
how bad it gets, I am not going to stop loving you. And
I am not going to stop wanting you. I swear it.”

I said, “Paul that is so sweet. I appreciate what you
are saying. But I don’t think you can pull it off. We
are…”

That was as far as I got before he turned my face up
and kissed me passionately. I lost it then. I put my
arms around his neck and I began to cry hysterically. I
couldn’t stop. It went on and on until I finally became
aware of him gently rubbing my back and lightly kissing
my neck and my ears and whispering, “I love you Jolie.
It kills me that I can’t protect you. But I love you
and I will never leave you.”

I loved it that he would say it. I guess he may even
have thought it. But I knew him too well. We were just
alike. I said, “Paul, he is going to fuck me tonight.
He is going to make me suck his cock. He is going to
make me a sex slave and it is all about humiliating and
degrading me…us. You can’t honestly expect me to
believe that you will ever be able to make love to me
again after he leaves our house tonight.”

He kissed me again and asked, “Have I ever lied to you?
I have given you my word. I never break my word.”

He kissed me once more and then at the same time we
both noticed that we were just about the only car left
in the parking lot. I pushed him away gently and said,
“I guess we better go home. I have to start dinner.”

He slid back behind the steering wheel and as we
fastened our seatbelts I wondered if he could actually
keep his word. I knew that he had the best of
intentions. He was a good man, a very good man. But he
was only human and we were products of our environment.

In our environment a white woman did not allow anyone
who was not white to have sex with her. She would
rather die. In my mind I had already submitted to
Doyal. I had already been naked in front of him. He had
touched my body. His finger had entered the most
private orifice of my body.

I knew that I would do whatever he ordered me to do
tonight, because I am a practical person and because I
could see no alternative. I could not imagine that
Paul, no matter how nice he was, or how well
intentioned, could ever get over what was going to
happen to me. But then, I wasn’t sure that I could deal
with it either. I was terrified.

It was funny though, I didn’t realize until that very
moment that I was more afraid of what Paul was going to
think than I was of the actual impending rape. I
suppose that would change when the rape became a
reality and was no longer just an abstract notion of a
large black man despoiling my body at some moment in
the future.

The ride home was made in total silence. It didn’t take
a genius to know what either one of us was thinking
about. We had spent a half hour in the parking lot
waiting for the traffic to clear and trying to assure
ourselves that our marriage could survive the horrible
things that were about to happen to us. But even with
that delay it looked like we had still beaten Doyal
home. We had never paid much attention to his comings
and goings and we didn’t know what time he normally
came home.

We went inside and I tried to decide what to make for
dinner. I was never much for planning our meals. More
often than not I waited until we got home from work and
made supper depending on what we were in the mood to
eat and what we had on hand.

Neither of us was very hungry. I ended up making some
home fries and getting some pork chops out and ready to
cook as soon as Doyal showed up. While I was cooking I
asked Paul to make me a strong drink. I was going to
need it.

We sipped our drinks until Doyal showed up at seven. He
didn’t knock or ring the bell. He just walked right
into our home. We heard him enter and Paul got up and
gave me a gentle kiss and said, “Remember, I love you.
I am always going to love you.”

Then he went to greet Doyal. While he was doing that I
started cooking the pork chops.

I heard muted conversation coming from the living room.
A moment later Doyal and Paul joined me in the kitchen.
Paul placed a bottle of wine on the counter and then
undressed me while I stood at the stove. It was
humiliating all over again. The fact that Doyal had
already seen me naked and touched me didn’t matter at
all.

Paul opened the wine and took my clothes upstairs. When
he returned he was naked too. His face was bright red
but he tried to act as if this was all normal. He
poured a glass of wine for Doyal who was sitting
quietly at the kitchen table watching me move around
the kitchen in the nude.

I heard him chuckle when he saw Paul’s soft cock. He
said, “I guess that what they say about you white boys
is true.”

I glanced over discreetly and saw that, I suppose
because of the fear and humiliation, Paul’s cock looked
much smaller than normal. I wanted to say something in
Paul’s defense but I didn’t dare.

I set the table and served dinner. I loved the smell of
pork chops cooking and normally that smell was all I
needed to work up an appetite. Not tonight though. I
sat at the table, trying to be as inconspicuous as
possible, and picked at my food. Paul didn’t eat
either.

Doyal, on the other hand, ate heartily. While he ate he
asked us a lot of personal questions. He asked us about
where we came from and about school and even about
work. Then he turned to Paul and asked, “Is she any
good at sucking cock?”

Paul looked at him in shock and when he didn’t respond
right away Doyal said, “I realize that yours is only a
practice cock and not like the real thing. But it will
give me some idea of how hard she’s going to be to
train.”

Poor Paul, he didn’t know what to say. He turned an
even darker shade of red, he glanced at me, and then he
said, “I have always loved it when she did it to me. I
think she is very good at it.”

Doyal smiled and held his hand out towards me. He had
been eating his pork chops with his fingers and they
were very greasy. He stuck his middle finger out and
said, “Show me Jolie. Demonstrate your cocksucking
skills for me. That looks to be about the size of your
wimpy husband’s dick.”

I leaned forward and took his finger into my mouth. It
wasn’t such a strange thing, not really. It was
something I might have done playfully for Paul if we
had been alone. But doing it like this, under these
circumstances, for this hateful man who was only doing
it to humiliate us, it was having just that effect. It
was nearly as degrading as standing in front of him and
being undressed by my husband for his viewing pleasure.

He watched me suck on his finger for a minute. Then he
pushed his chair back and grabbed my wrist. He pulled
me over into his lap and said, “You’re going to have to
do better than that, bitch.”

He forced another of his long, black, greasy fingers
into my mouth and I sucked it clean while his free hand
came up and cupped my breasts and gently squeezed.

As I sucked his finger clean I could feel his cock
under my ass. It felt huge. I tried not to think about
that but instead concentrated on sucking his greasy
fingers clean. He let me clean all four fingers and his
thumb that way before he took his hand away from my
mouth.

For a fraction of a second I was relieved that my
little cocksucking demonstration was over. But then his
hand fell to my thigh, only inches from my exposed
pussy. He squeezed my thigh and then slid his hand up
until his large index finger was nestled in my slit.

He was staring at my face as his finger came into
contact with my sex. He saw me gasp quietly at his
touch and he said, “Yeah, I knew you wanted that. I
expect you have been thinking about me since you left
my office. I’m going to stick my finger back in your
pussy now, bitch. What do you want to bet it comes out
wet again? You may not admit it, not even to yourself,
but you can’t wait to get my big, black cock in your
hot little cunt.”

I felt his finger slip between my labia and I knew by
the way it entered me so easily that I was wet down
there. The fact that my pussy was wet in anticipation
of his touch was just as disturbing as it had been when
it happened in his office. It was like my body was
joining forces with Doyal to humiliate me.

He chuckled when his finger entered me easily. He
worked it around inside of me for a moment and said,
“Yeah, you are one hot little cunt. You may not like
black people intruding on your little white world, but
your body seems to be looking forward to getting some
nice big black dick.”

Doyal pulled his finger out of me and held it up. He
shook his head and said, “Sweetheart, it is obvious to
me that your mind and your body are having one hell of
a conflict here. Or is there something that you are
keeping a secret from your husband? You don’t harbor a
secret desire for black men do you Jolie?”

I didn’t plan on dignifying that obviously outrageous
question with an answer. But he didn’t give me a chance
anyway. He forced his finger, now wet with my juices,
into my mouth and watched me suck it clean again. When
his finger was clean he pushed me out of his lap and
stood up.

He is a large man and he towered over me. He was very
intimidating, and not just because he was dressed and I
was naked. Nor was it because I knew that he was about
to demand sex of me, and I had no choice but to submit.
I had no doubt that this man would have been
intimidating under any circumstances. He was large and
muscular but it was the arrogant look on his face that
made us feel so ill at ease. He was in charge and he
knew it. He was a man who was used to being in charge
and it showed.

Doyal stood up and said, “You can clean this mess up
later. Let’s go in the other room and get comfortable.”

Paul and I followed Doyal into the living room and he
stood in front of our couch. He ordered us to stand on
in front of him and then he said, “I want you to
undress me now. It’s time that we got better
acquainted.”

Paul and I looked at each other. We didn’t know what to
do. I mean, we certainly knew what to do, but we didn’t
know who should do what. Paul was just as uncomfortable
with the idea of undressing another man as I was.

After a short hesitation Paul began to unbutton Doyal’s
sport shirt and I started unbuckling his belt and then
opening his pants. I finished first and I pushed his
pants down to his ankles. He didn’t lift his feet so I
couldn’t remove them. That left me with only his boxer
shorts.

Paul pulled his shirt off and set it aside and then
stripped him of his undershirt. The contrast between
Doyal and Paul, or any other boy I had ever been with,
was striking. Doyal was muscular. His chest was well
defined and his abs were tight. His upper arms looked
nearly as large as Paul’s thighs! But he wasn’t muscle
bound. He was very well proportioned.

I was inching his boxers down, struggling to get them
out and down over his semi-hard cock. It was obviously
very large, much larger than any I had ever seen
before. But even knowing in advance that it was so much
larger I don’t think that I was really prepared for it
when I first saw it.

His cock was much longer than Paul’s. But the scary
part was that it was at least twice as big around. It
was at least nine inches long and no less than four
inches around at the base. The skin of the shaft was as
black as coal. The head was a lighter brown. I stared
in awe as I uncovered it. I couldn’t even imagine
taking something that large inside of me! I had to
admit though, it was certainly impressive. It looked
so…I don’t know, masculine? It was as if his cock was
as arrogant as the rest of him!

When I had his shorts down around his ankles he sat on
the couch. Paul joined me on the floor and we removed
his shoes and socks and then his pants and shorts. When
he was finally naked he spread his legs and said,
“Paul, I want you to hold my cock while your bitch gets
better acquainted with it. I haven’t gotten fucked in a
while and I’m pretty horny. I imagine my cock will be
dancing all over the place. We don’t want that, do we
Paul?”

Paul looked like he had been struck. He expected to be
humiliated. But he had not been expecting that he would
actually take part in my rape. He had not expected to
have to touch, to hold another man’s cock.

He looked up at Doyal in shock. But Doyal just smiled
at him and said, “Don’t be jealous Paulie. Maybe you
can suck it a little next time. I think the first time
should be for your little bitch.”

Paul and I both shuddered in revulsion as he reached up
and gingerly held the base of Doyal’s cock between his
thumb and two fingers. He held it out away from that
flat, hard stomach and Doyal said, “Okay bitch, lean
down there and give your new god a big kiss. Then I
want you to thank me for taking pity on you and your
wussy husband before you start licking my balls.”

I stared in dismay at his imposing cock and equally
massive testicles as Paul held his cock upright for me.
It was finally happening. It was no longer a threat of
some horrible thing that was going to happen sometime
in the future. The future was now.

I took a deep breath and tried to force myself to be
strong. I leaned forward and touched my lips to the
head of his huge cock. I pulled my head back quickly
and muttered, “Thank you for taking pity on us sir.”

It was almost as hard to say that as to do what I was
about to do. I leaned down and with tears running down
my cheeks I began to lick his large, hairy, wrinkled
ball sack. His balls, like his cock, were nearly twice
as large as Paul’s. I licked them all over, stopping
from time to time to spit out a kinky little black
hair.

He instructed me to take his balls into my mouth one at
a time and suck on them gently. I had done that for
Paul and it was no big deal. It was much more difficult
with Doyal. I had to force my mouth open as far as I
could in order to get just one of his balls inside.
Once I had managed to stuff it inside, I could do
little more than gently slide my tongue around the
underside. I was conscious as I struggled to obey his
order that Paul’s fingers were pressed against my lips,
still holding that massive cock erect in my face.

After I had repeated the process with his second
testicle he ordered me to lick his cock before I
started to learn how to suck a real cock. The arrogant
bastard!

Despite my husband’s grip on the base of it, Doyal’s
cock throbbed quite violently as I bathed it with my
tongue. The fat knob at the top of the shaft was
becoming slick with the slime that was oozing from the
surprisingly large opening in the tip. I licked it
clean and worked my way up and down the shaft a few
times before he said, “Okay, bitch, let’s see if you
can suck a cock.”

I placed my lips over the knob of his cock and the
experience was entirely different than when I sucked on
my husband’s much friendlier cock. My lips were
stretched painfully as I worked them down over his
daunting weapon. I groaned in dismay as I looked down
at how much cock was left and how black it looked in
contrast to my husband’s white skin. I thought, “Oh my
god! I have a black man’s cock in my mouth!”

Doyal ordered Paul to release his cock and instead to
cup his balls. He wanted him to feel it when he shot
his cum into my mouth. I had been avoiding looking at
Paul. But I glanced up at him then and I saw the tears
running down his cheeks. I had been concerned about our
future, the future of our marriage. But at that moment
I was too concerned with surviving sucking this huge
cock to worry about it. Still, I hated it that Paul
would forever have in his memory the image of me with
that big black cock in my mouth.

I could only force half of Doyal’s cock into my mouth.
I could usually take nearly all of Paul’s, all but the
last two inches. I had actually been pretty proud of my
cocksucking skills. But I was totally out of my league
now. This was like trying to suck off a horse!

Once I determined my limits I began to suck as much of
his cock as enthusiastically as possible. I just wanted
to get it over with. He watched me struggle to please
him for several minutes before he said, “Not too bad
for a first time, bitch. Don’t worry, you’ll get
better.”

I didn’t know what he thought that I could do to get
better. The huge knob on the end of his cock was
hitting the back of my throat on every thrust. But I
put that out of my mind and sucked him as hard as I
could.

Doyal just sat back and enjoyed it for what seemed like
a very long time. I could sense that he was starting to
get close to cumming. I began to get nervous as I
wondered how large a load of cum a huge cock and balls
like he had would produce.

Doyal groaned and said, “Okay Paulie, use your other
hand now. Finish me off in your bitch’s mouth.”

Paul placed his hand around the base of Doyal’s cock
again. This time he wrapped his fingers around it as
far as they would go and he began to rapidly masturbate
our new supervisor’s cock into my mouth.

In less than a minute I felt Doyal’s large hands on my
head, holding me tight to his shaft. He moaned loudly
and exclaimed, “What a fucking team!”

Then he was cumming in my mouth. I moved my lips up to
the knob and held them in place as my mouth filled with
his hot, slimy, bitter cum. I gagged a couple of times.
I had never experienced so much cum before. It was as
bad as I thought that it would be. My mouth was full to
overflowing when he finally let his ass fall back onto
the couch cushion and he started to relax.

He reached out and held Paul’s hand still and the three
of us stayed like that, motionless, until Doyal started
to breathe more normally and relax. He pulled Paul’s
hand away and said, “Okay, bitch. Swallow that nice hot
cream and then give Paulie a big kiss to thank him for
his help.”

I struggled to swallow his immense load. It was easily
twice as much as I had ever gotten from Paul. I had to
swallow several times to get it all down. I noticed as
I did that it tasted just like Paul’s. I had expected
it to be different.

Paul and I both had tears running down our cheeks as I
leaned over Doyal’s huge thigh and kissed Paul. It was
my intention to give him a little peck on the lips but
he held my head and kissed me lovingly. As we broke the
kiss he whispered, “I love you Jolie.”

It almost broke my heart.

Doyal laughed quietly and said, “Isn’t that sweet.”
Then he said, “Paulie, your bitch missed a drop. Would
you get that for me?”

I stuttered, “N-n-o, please sir. Let me get that.”

Doyal chuckled and said, “Don’t worry, bitch. One taste
won’t make Paulie gay. Not unless he’s already gay. You
aren’t gay are you Paulie? It wouldn’t take much to
make a girl out of you. Just shave your legs and put a
dress on you and I think you’d look pretty hot.”

Paul just glared at him and started to bend down to
lick the last drop of cum from the tip of his cock.
Doyal suddenly reached out and grabbed a handful of
Paul’s hair and pulled and twisted.

Paul cried out in pain and reached for Doyal’s wrist.
Doyal yelled at him to put his hands down and he slowly
complied. He turned Paul’s head and looking him right
in the eye and said, “Don’t you ever look at me like
that again you fucking faggot! I own your pansy ass
now. That cock you are about to lick, that’s as much
your god now as it is to your cunt of a wife. Your
lives revolve around pleasing that tube of flesh from
now until I get tired of fucking with you. You don’t
feel so fucking high and mighty now do you? Just
remember, if you two weren’t such racist assholes you
wouldn’t be in this mess now. Hell! You didn’t even
have to be nice to me, just polite. If you had only
been civil, and if you hadn’t called my son those nasty
names of course. That kind of pissed me off.”

He finally released his grip on Paul’s hair and said,
“Now do what I told you to do. And if you ever look at
me like that again I’ll take my belt to your pansy
ass!&#