How I Learned to Dominate My Man
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My name is Lucas James Plywood. I’m a young black man living in the City of Los Angeles, California. These days, I’m a student at the prestigious Central California College, one of the best private schools in the state of California. Add to that the fact that I basically attend this great school for free and you’ll realize why I’m in such a celebrating mood. I’m going to tell you what I’ve done. In the end, you’re going to have a blast reading it. Almost as much of a blast as I did living it. Got it? Cool.
Central California College is a four-year private school with a student body of eight thousand persons. It’s located in the City of Los Angeles. The school is wonderfully diverse, and evenly divided between male and female students. The majority of the students are commuters, though quite a few young men and women live in the dormitories. I live in the men’s dormitories. The school has eight dorm buildings, four for men and four for women. Each dorm building can house two hundred and fifty students. A total of two thousand students live in the Central California College dormitories. Student-athletes like myself get first-pick of the best facilities. Hey, it’s the least they could do, since the athletic teams bring in upwards of twenty million for the school every year.
Central California College has recently gone through a period of expansion. They beefed up their academia but did not neglect athletics, unlike many colleges and universities across America. Our student-athletes compete in Men’s Varsity Baseball, Basketball, Cross Country, Soccer, Swimming, Ice Hockey, Golf, Gymnastics, Fencing, Tennis, Rugby, Water Polo, Volleyball, Wrestling, Rifle and Football along with Women’s Varsity Softball, Basketball, Cross Country, Soccer, Fencing, Swimming, Ice Hockey, Volleyball, Gymnastics, Golf, Tennis, Field Hockey, Rifle, Water Polo and Rugby. All of our sports teams, collectively known as the Raging Jaguars, compete in the National Collegiate Athletic Association’s Division One. Yeah, the Central California College Department of Athletics had spearheaded the foundation of an athletic powerhouse. I was proud to be one of their student-athletes. This year, for the first time in its 200-year history, Central California College fields a Varsity Football program and I’m a running back on it!
At school, I maintain the image of a smart and dedicated student-athlete. I get really good grades in all of my classes and I’m one of the top students in the Criminal Justice Program. So much for the stereotype of the dumb jock, right? I’m a six-foot-four, 250-pound black man who plays college football better than most. What most people will never guess is that I have an IQ of 200. Yeah, I’m a bloody genius. That’s what earned me an academic scholarship to Central California College. Most of my classmates have rich parents. I don’t. My father and mother perished in a shootout when I was younger. I was raised by the Foster care system. I utilize my fabulous intellect in many ways. Mostly, I like to entertain myself by making stupid people suffer and also occasionally helping them by making them see the error of their ways. You could say that it’s one of my hobbies.
Right now, I’m teaching a lesson to Margaret Cooler, a rich white chick who thinks she’s all that. I don’t like people like that. Even if they look good. Truth be told, this five-foot-ten, pretty-faced, big and sexy, blonde-haired, green-eyed white chick looked kind of good. However, she was way too full of herself and involved in all kinds of dangerous activities which made her a danger to herself and others. If you ask me, they need to be taken down a peg or two. Especially wealthy and privileged females who think they’re invincible. Luckily, I’m on hand to teach them a little humility.
Margaret Cooler is the type of woman you’ve all seen before. We’ve all seen her type before. She’s the Campus Slut. Will fuck anything that moves, and then some. Calling her a whore is to insult all whores. Since I maintain the façade of the gentlemanly student-athlete, she came to me the night she had a pregnancy scare. Apparently, she’d been banging so many guys that she thought she was knocked up. and she was all panicking and whining in my dormitory at five o’clock in the morning. I humored her and told her to relax. Then, I handed her some beer, hoping it would shut her up. It did, but only temporarily. Then she began whining again. She was still whining when I started snoring.
The next day, she went to the doctor and got tested. She wasn’t pregnant. She celebrated this by going out, getting drunk and sleeping with lots of guys. Then she came back to me, telling me that she was a danger-addicted sexual maniac who desperately needed control, before getting herself killed. Okay, cool. Was the woman asking me to take control of her life because she was afraid of self-destruction? Apparently so. Ah, women. They say they don’t want it but deep down, they love being dominated by men. Anyone who’s ever read romance novels penned by women will smile at that one. So, for her own good, I decided to make her my bitch.
Yeah, Margaret was to become my property. My own property. I explained the rules to her. I would teach her to control herself by first putting her under my complete control. She didn’t see the dichotomy in these statements and just nodded along. I smiled. This was going to be way too easy. I told her that she was to go to her classes and then come straight home. Back to my dormitory for inspection. She wasn’t to associate with the slutty chicks she usually hung out with. Oh, and she was no longer allowed to wear the ultra-short skirts she loved to wear or flaunt her fat ass. Margaret didn’t like some of the rules but I told her that if she was to follow them, she might actually live a long and healthy life as opposed to ending up in a ditch somewhere. She thought about that for a moment, then nodded understandingly. Her life was in my hands. I knew what was best for her. The sooner she realized this, the sooner she’d be really happy. Am I good or what?
Yeah, better times were ahead for both of us. I went to class and played football. When I came home, Margaret was usually there, doing her homework and working hard. Her grades improved, and her health improved too. She stopped being an insomniac due to her constant partying. I wasn’t a rough master, you know. I was genuinely looking out for her own good. I even went to clubs with her, and she had a good time, without drinking alcohol or sexing up strange men. For the next three months, I basically ran Margaret Cooler’s life. And you know what? Her GPA spiked. Her health improved. And the men and women on campus began respecting her for her intelligence and personality instead of calling her the campus slut. Was I so wrong to take over her life in order to change it? Not if you believe in saving someone from themselves through timely interventions.
When the semester ended, we were both doing well. The Central California College Varsity Football team had defeated Ohio State University before taking down Florida State University to become the National Champions. How about that? A first-year Division One College Football team had won the National Championship! This was an NCAA first! All of a student, we were on the map. Men and women who didn’t know Central California College existed were now paying attention to it. I was amazed, and pleased. As for Margaret, I released her from her fealty. She was now free. If she wanted to be an intelligent young woman on the road to success, she’d stay out of bars and sex parties and stay in school. If she wanted to backslide, then she knew what to do.
I was one of a few students who remained at the school during December vacation. I was alone, just the way I liked it. The other students at school are all happy with their families and friends. I don’t have a family. Last I said before, my father and mother perished in a shootout when I was younger. I was raised by the Foster care system. I don’t
miss my Foster parents. They weren’t nice people. I like to be alone with my thoughts. The Central California College campus was deserted. Just the way I liked it. It was Christmas Time and I was alone. At least, until an unexpected visitor came calling. I heard a knock on my door and opened it. Guess who? It was Margaret. I looked her up and down. What did she want?
Margaret looked at me and smiled. I grinned nervously. When Margaret smiles, it means she’s usually up to no good. I was puzzled to find her here, though. Why wasn’t she at home in Dallas with her rich dad and even richer mom? She suddenly moved closer, and then she kissed me, wishing me a Merry Christmas. I was surprised, but wished her a Merry Christmas as well. Margaret smiled, and thanked me. What in hell for? That’s what I was thinking. She smiled, and thanked me for giving her a royal kick in the butt when she needed it the most. I smiled. It was my pleasure. She grinned, and put a package in my hands. I began unwrapping it, then noticed her staring at me expectantly. I welcomed her into the dormitory and closed the door behind us. Looks like I was going to have a fun Christmas this year.
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