Deep South Domination (re-visit)

[John Blaze]

I though it might be fun and interesting to go back and re-visit/finish some of my old stories that I walked away from for various reasons. Here is the conclusion to one of my earliest stories - Deep South Domination. I am re-posting parts 1 and 2. Then I'm posting a new installment - the conclusion (part 3). This one is more of a "fighting" domination story and is light on the footworship stuff. Still I hope you enjoy!

She begged them not to send her. “Send anyone but me” she asked them. Still, the university sent her anyway. They knew that when it came to scouting new talent for their championship Tae Kwon Do team, she was the right person for the job. Former national silver medallist, 6th degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do, 4th degree black belt in judo, and very experienced in grappling techniques, she was the right person for the job. She’d done it a thousand times before. Okayed and vetoed scholarships. That wasn’t the problem. But, as a 28 year old black woman, she had no desire to travel to the small country town in rural Mississippi where the latest prospect lived and competed. True, it was 2005.. But many of these old country towns are stuck in the Jim Crow days of the 60s. Still, an assignment is an assignment, so she gritted her teeth, sucked it up, and hopped on the next train to Mississippi.
Carla expected the worst, and she was not disappointed. From the minute she touched down in the airport she got the looks. They were broken up into two types. Most of the looks were the dirty, disdainful looks she expected in the deep rural south. The others were the ones of lust … Which usually still had a touch of the condescending disdain as well. Dressed in a black dress suit with black fishnets, she was a sight to behold. Her appearance could best be described as Gabrielle Union’s even prettier twin sister. Her powerful and sexy legs were accentuated by the 4 inch stiletto heels she wore. Directly from the plane she hopped a cab to the contest which John, the potential recruit, was competing in. When she got there she noticed that the local high school was competing against the mostly black high school from the next town over.
She took her place in the stands not to far behind the bench of the local team and pulled out her pen and pad. As the contest progressed, the local team began to demolish the other school. The crowd chanted derogatory racial comments and cheered with reckless, albeit racist, enthusiasm. The kid she was scouting, 18 years old, 6’2” and built fairly muscularly, made short work of his opponent. It wasn’t that he was all that great, it was just obvious that the other school’s program was way less experienced. In fact, she was far from impressed and really had no interest in signing him. But what really bothered Carla was that as the home team continued to pulverize the other school, the “N” word was used as taunting seemingly every second. Furthermore, nobody protested except the other coach who was simply laughed at by the officials. By the end of the contest, a dominated and humiliated all black team slipped out of the gymnasium to the jeers of the crowd. Some even threw beer and spit at them. Outside of some raunchy and sexist comments, the crowd largely ignored her, which she attested to her being a female. Obviously drunk and ignorant, she was enraged at the crowd, but even more so at the coach and his team who blatantly encouraged and joined in on the behavior. Not only wouldn’t she give this kid the scholarship, she would give him and his coach a piece of her mind!! A meeting had been arranged at the school dojo across the street between her and the team. It was set up so that the coach and team could meet, wine, and dine the scout. She was going to use it to tell them all off. As the crowd filed out, the team went across the street to await the delegate from the prestigious university whom they were convinced had to be very impressed with their team’s performance.
Carla sat in the gym long after the contest was over, trying to calm herself down. She wanted to have a level head when she confronted the team. She was determined to remain professional. Finally, the janitor asked he to leave so he could lock up. Grumbling to herself she walked outside. She knew as she walked across the street that the team was certainly not expecting “her” to be the delegate sent. She chuckled to herself imaging their soon to be astonished faces. Her amusement, however, was short lived as she stepped first one foot and then the other into a muddy mess in what passed for the street, all but ruining her Jimmy Choos. “I hate hick towns”, she thought to herself.
She walked into the dojo, tracking mud across the floor as she walked. She noticed only the four seniors and the sensei were present. They all looked at her with a bewildered look on her face as if to say, what the hell are you doing in here! Before anyone could speak, she introduced herself, “ My name is Carla Smith and I’m from the university. I don’t think you’re the caliber of athlete or of the type of character we’re looking for. Goodnight.” She turned to walk away, proud that she had kept her composure.
“What makes you qualified to judge me? Anyone with half a brain knows you must take off your shoes in a dojo! You‘re tracking mud all over the mat!”, asked John.
Carla had just about enough for one night! “That’s only if you respect the dojo and the teacher! Which I do not!! Now shut up before I put your face down in the mud!” This threat only elicited chuckles from all of the men. John slowly walked over to Carla, still laughing. When he got within two feet of her, she grabbed him by the wrist and slightly twisted a pressure point. He immediately stopped laughing. Seemingly without moving her hand much, she forced him down to his knees and caused him to squeal in pain. She continued to twist his wrist and apply pressure until he was curled up on his knees at her feet. “John,” she started” you must be taught some respect for a lady.” With that, she placed her foot on the back of his head and pushed him face first into her muddy foot print. She applied more pressure with her foot until his left cheek was pressed to the floor in the mud left behind by her foot and the right cheek was being crushed under her muddy sole. The other boys and the teacher started to approach her, intent on stopping the display. “Come any closer and I’ll break the boy’s wrist and arm!” She warned. “Now John,” she invited lessening the pressure against his head. “Be a good boy and clean this town’s filth from my shoes please.” As she said this she rested her weight on the heel of her shoe, directly in front of his face, exposing him to the sole. As tears started to well up in his eyes, he took to the implied request with little resistance. Slowly at first, and then with more vigor… he licked the mud off of the sole of Carla’s shoe. A wide smile came to her face as she forced the young man to degrade himself in his own dojo in front of his friends and teacher. John now cried with shame and humiliation as he used his tongue to remove the foul tasting dirt from this stranger’s shoe. As he licked the one foot, Carla wiped the other clean in his hair, leaving large clumps of mud in his red locks.
She triumphantly and condescendingly looked around the room at the shocked and defeated faces. Within minutes, she had reduced the toughest student to her personal foot licker. The toughest red neck in the room was groveling unwillingly at her feet! “That’s enough”, she said. She grabbed him by his muddy hair and stood him up. She slapped him across the face a few times just for the heck of it. All of the boys looked defeated. Only the sensei looked different. He looked angry. Carla chuckled to herself… his turn would be next.

to be continued...

[John Blaze]

PART 2

When Carla let John go, he backed away full of shame and self disgust. The sensei stepped forward and started to speak. “Listen here you dark bitch! I don’t know who you…” While he was still speaking, an uncontrollable anger swept through Carla’s blood. She sucked back as hard as she could and spit a hot glob right in his eye. She thought to herself, how very unladylike that was… and simultaneously, how GREAT it felt. The teacher just stood there with her spittle running down his face. The sight was so amusing to Carla that she started to giggle uncontrollably. This was the final straw. If he were a cartoon his face would have been bright red and steam would have been flowing from his ears. He wiped his face off and lunged forward at her, determined to break her apart.
He threw a straight right and then a straight left. Easily, she dodged each blow. He was pretty good but nowhere near her skill level. She thought to herself. “This is almost unfair!” She bounced up and down, back and forth like a young Ali. All of the students were amazed at her quickness, especially since she was still wearing those very high heels. Again and again, he threw punches, and she dodged them all with ease. You might think she was toying with him, but the anger and intensity on her face told a different story. She was just waiting for the right moment, methodically wearing him down. He threw a straight kick to her midsection, and like a scene from a karate flick, she ducked it and did a spinning leg sweep. He hit the ground hard on his back, and she was back on her feet, bouncing in place as he stared up at her in shock. She looked down at him with contempt and said “Get up! You’re not gonna let a black WOMAN show you up, are you?” Only now did she start to get more comfortable, as she took off her black blazer and flung it to the ground. He got up enraged and charged her as if to tackle her down. Right when her got to her, she spun to her left and rolled off of him looking like Barry Sanders. He flew forward and landed face first on the mat. Ironically, his face skidded to a stop in one of the muddy foot prints that she had tracked all through the dojo. He again got up enraged, but this time more composed. He looked at the faces of his students, They looked as if their whole worlds were collapsing in front of them. He wouldn’t be embarrassed anymore! He wouldn’t let them down.
He moved in quickly, switching to a more contemporary boxing style to counter her approach. He threw a few jabs, each she slapped away effortlessly. Then he threw two round house hooks. A left then a right. This was the opening she was waiting for. She stepped into and under the first swing, getting nice and close. When the second one was thrown, she ducked it and with all of her might, brought her knee up into his exposed ribcage. She didn’t know if she cracked it or just bruised it, but he immediately winced and curled up in the direction of the wounded rib. Both hands grabbed the injured spot. She quickly stood up and came down with an open palmed strike to his exposed jaw. He collapsed right at her feet. Only now did she smile and seem relaxed.
She looked down at him writhing at her feet and she again giggled. He started to get up. When he got to all fours, still shaking his clouded head, she walked around behind him. She placed her still slightly muddy sole on his rear end and forcefully pushed him. He sprawled out on his face again. Her muddy footprint, in direct contrast to the white karate suit, was clearly marked on his ass. She again looked around the room at the faces of the young men, they were utterly hopeless. Defeated in body and spirit. She knew she could have some fun now. She stepped back out of each of her shoes one at a time. This revealed her toes encased in the fishnet stockings. They were painted with a French Pedicure. Her feet looked perfect and soft. She wiggled her toes as the fresh air touched them for the first time. “I’ve been in these shoes all day. On the plane, in the cab, watching you pitiful karate meet in that awful, hot gym, and here… kicking your asses. My feet are hot, tired, and sore. Furthermore, my shoes are muddy on the outside and sweaty on the inside.” She paused and looked at each boy in the eye. “You,” she said pointing at one boy. “And you too” You each get the privilege of sitting in the corner and licking the rest of the mud from my shoes. You can also, lick the sweat out from the insides.
The two boys just stood there horrified. She raised an eyebrow as if to say, don’t make me come over there. Each boy then reluctantly scurried t to take a shoe, and ran to different corners of the room. A huge sense of pride came to her soul as she watched these racist boys lick her shoes out of fear. “Lick out the insides first so you don’t get mud in the shoes!”
She turned back a round and looked down at the sensei, who watched in horror as his students faces. Obviously disgusted by their tasks, they licked out the sweat insides of this woman’s shoes. “Don’t feel neglected, you’re turn is coming up soon… with the real thing.” As she said this she raised her foot to his face an wiggled her toes. The condescending smile on her face drove him crazy. That combined with the sweaty smell of her feet reaching his nostrils, gave him new energy to fight back.
He hopped back to his feet and moved in again. This time she was smiling. Before he could even throw a punch, she slipped in close and slapped him hard across the face. She then kneed him in the groin and watched as he doubled over in pain. She turned around and grabbed him by the hair. Looking back over her shoulder, she watched her handiwork. Lifting her heel to her butt, she placed her foot in front of his face with her sole exposed to his eyes. Using his hair to guide his head. She ran his face up and down her fishnet covered sole. She pressed his face hard against her foot using it like a massage object or a pumice stone. In facet, his beard stubble acted just like a pumice stone would against her warm sweaty foot. “ OOOhh, your face is a great exfoliater!”, she joked. She then dropped his head and let him fall to the ground. She shot a look over at the two boys who were licking her shoes. They had stopped licking to watch “Round 2”, hoping that their teacher would win and end the torment. No such luck and they begrudgingly started licking her shoes again. Again she laughed, and again the sensei rose to his feet. Albeit, a little slower each time.

To be Continued

[John Blaze]

PART 3


Carla looked around the room. She couldn’t help but laugh. John, the one with all the tough talk and posturing, had his face covered in mud from where she had stepped on his face, forced it into the mud of her footprint, and wiped her shoe off in his hair. He just stood there looking pathetic. Two of his class mates were in the corner licking the mud from her soles and the sweat from her insoles. Carla knew the expensive Jimmy Choo shoes probably cost more than anything any one of these young men had in their homes. These young, 18 and 19 year old karate seniors were being taught a valuable lesson about sexism, racism, and judging a book by its cover. And she was all too happy to be the one to do it!

But best of all was the sensei. The one who had continued to fill these young men’s minds with backwards thoughts and sub-par karate - he was being humiliated in front of them. Originally, she was only going to beat him up and forcefully humiliate him like she did his students. But, now she though how much more appropriate it would be to actually force him into willing submission. After all, his karate was way beneath her. She felt no threat from any of these men, even outnumbered 4 to 1 and DEEP into the unfriendly southern town, she knew she was able to easily outclass them and win the mental and physical wars!

The sensei was slowly getting nervous now. She was beating him, fairly easily, in his own dojo in front of his students. Furthermore, she was humiliating them all and he felt helpless to stop her. She just smiled in his face and continued to bounce on her toes. He glanced at his students licking her shoes in the corner like some animals, and he grew extremely angry. “Stop that!“ he screamed. But the students saw nothing from his fighting so far that made them think he would win and save them. They kept licking. Carla laughed loudly as the students ignored their sensei - afraid more of her then him and “voting” on her odds of victory over his! His second wind came to him and he attacked her with all he had.

Carla was enjoying herself. She knew she was the class of the dojo and she was determined to toy with him…embarrass him… make him her fool. He charged her and threw a flurry of right and lefts. She easily dodged them all. Ducking, weaving, moving her head around his fists, and then side stepping his last punch and appearing behind him. He turned, quickly and off balance to try to defend himself. He was too late. As he turned he saw the sole of her foot in a blur approaching his face. WHAP! The sole of her foot smacked into his face right on his mouth. She didn’t kick him full force. She probably could have knocked him out cold, but instead she hit him with partial power. Enough To snap his head back, but not enough to REALLY hurt him. Instead, she snapped multiple kicks to his face in quick succession. Her foot barely touched the ground before she launched it at his face again. She hopped forward quickly and shot her fishnet covered sole into his face with quick side kicks to his head WHAP! POP! PAP! WHAP! POP!

He stumbled back, his head getting snapped back repeatedly. His lip seemed to pop with the first one, the second smacked him on the chin, the third caught the bridge of his nose, crushing it under her sole, the next caught his lip again. He looked like a cartoon character or a video game with his head snapping back repeatedly as he stumbled in reverse across his gym. Then, she spun quickly on her one foot and hit him with a spinning heel kick, her heel slamming into the side of his jaw and he stumbled then fell down to the left. His head was groggy and his ears were spinning, but he instinctively started to get to his feet. Carla, walked up behind him and when he was on all fours, she placed her foot on his butt - right next to the footprint from where she had done this before - and launched him forward. She quickly followed him and place the sole of her right foot on his butt as he lay sprawled out. Slowly, and deliberately, she walked the length of his body - trampling him underfoot. His butt, the small of his back, his upper back, and then the back of his head/side of his face. She took each step slowly and looked at the 4 young men in the room. One, his face covered in mud, two licking her shoes as they looked on, and a fourth just sitting in disbelief and cowering. As she stepped on their teachers head she paused for a little longer and balanced herself with one foot on his head an one foot in the air. She placed her hands on her hips and looked down as he moaned in pain under the pressure of her weight. She laughed and stepped off of him. Looking back over her shoulder, she flicked her foot backwards and playfully kicked/slapped his face as she walked off. Turning to face him ,she watched as he slowly got to his feet again. Each time, he seemed more defeated. She smiled at him as he tried to get the cobwebs out of his head.

“Are you gonna let a BLACK woman walk in here, disrespect your dojo, humiliated your students, and LITERRALLY walk all over you?” , she giggled. This time he rushed her. She was too quick for him, but he was still a MAN and much stronger. As he approached her at full speed, he reached out to grab her. She stepped into him, surprising him with her poise and confidence. As she grabbed his arm, she turned forcefully towards the ground and used his momentum in a classic judo throw. Flipping him over her shoulder, she slammed him into the ground … hard! He lay stunned and in pain on his back at her feet. She laughed at him with her hands on her hips. She placed the sole of her foot on his face with her hands on her hips. She slid the fishnet foot into what she considered to be the “perfect” position. Her heel on his forehead and her toes on his bottom lip - her foot completely covered his features. She applied pressure - mushing his already broken nose down. With her hands still on her hips, she looked down at her black foot on his face - her perfectly French pedicured toes looked so ladylike on his face. She wiggled tehm against his lips and giggled. The irony of how she was beating him down was quite humorous. She looked around the room from this classic victory pose, and studied the faces of the students., Each time she humiliated their teacher - she crushed their spirits , but she also de-bunked any thoughts they had of blacks and women being inferior! Silently, at least two of the boys were lusting for her. As she stood there, glistening in sweat with the form fitting dress pants accentuating her thick legs and hips, her sleeveless dress shirt exposing her finely toned arms, and her fishnetted foot firmly on their teacher’s face - she looked every part the goddess!!

As the teacher started to regain his bearings, he felt the crushing pain of her foot on his face and broken nose, but right before he could move to slap it away, she stepped up on his face again full force and paused before hopping off to face him - again “walking” on him - this time , his battered face!

He got to his feet and stood there to face her again. She continued to bounce gingerly on her toes. He had rushed her with punches, he had rushed her with kicks, he had tried to tackle her… all ended with humiliating defeat. This time, he stood still. Then, he motioned for her to attack. Carla, amused at his continuous attempts to switch strategy, walked slowly towards him. She knew it would end the same way. When she was about an arms distance away, he threw a punch. She dodged it easily. He threw a ton a of punches as fast and as accurately as he could. At this pint, beaten up and tired, he was WAY too slow. On a GREAT day, maybe he could have hit her ONCE. But today?

Carla kept dodging the blows. Then, in another act of humiliation, she started to laugh. While she dodged the blows, she was laughing at him. He grew more incensed and kept throwing hard punches… catching nothing but air. Then, more humiliation. After while, each time she dodged a punch, she would slap him across the face. Slap! Smack! Slap! Smack. He couldn’t see them coming. He just kept feeling the sting of her open palm or back hand. The entire time, her laughter grew louder. Then the taunting started. “Mamma’s gonna teach you some manners!” SLAP! “Don’t you know how to trat a lady?” SLAP! “Damn… can’t you stop me?” SLAP! All the while she kept laughing!

Finally, the student who had thus far been left alone could no longer take it. This man was like a father to him and this black bitch was kicking his ass and making a fool of him. He hopped to his feet and charged her from behind., Carla heard his lumbering steps coming and knew she had to act quickly. She threw a straight punch into the sensei’s face snapping his head back. Then, she quickly turned and faced her oncoming rusher. She threw a hard side kick at his face and the out of control idiot ran right into it, her foot slammed into his face shattering his jaw. He fell like a lump of bricks and she shot a backwards kick snapping the head of the sensei back again. She raised her foot high in the air and stomped down forcefully into the gut of the hurt student. He curled up in excruciating pain. Then, she placed the sole of her foot on his face - the weight of her foot sending white hot pain through his shattered jaw. She grinded down hard on his face with her stockinged foot and he started to kick wildly and sob loudly at the pain. Now, he was out of it and she returned her attention to the sensei. He stood there partially woozy. She ran at him full speed and jumped as high in the air as she could. While in the air, she grabbed hi hair and kicked her legs out into a split. She landed like that, her butt hitting the ground in a full split as she held on to his hair. The long drop and the gravity pulled him down with her and she forcefully slammed his face into the mat! His head bounce violently off of the mat and he rolled over virtually knocked out.

She stood up and looked at the 5 men. One rolled around uncontrollably sobbing with a shattered face. Two knelt in the corner and licked her shoes. And the big bad teacher, lay virtually knocked out at her feet. She bent over and started to slap the man across the face repeatedly until he “came to”. He groggily awoke and started to get to his feet. He seemed to almost be moving while sleep. When he was on all fours, kneeling before her and trying to get up, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t get up. Do you not see that I am WAY better than you?” The man, battered and bloody, defeated nodded. “Well,” she continued, “we can go on and on like this - or I can leave you to lick you wounds.” He said nothing. “But, if you don’t want to be kicked around all night - then kneel there and kiss my feet! Show me you know I’m superior to you!”

The man just knelt there. His pride was beaten into the ground.. But kiss her feet? The person who had kicked his ass? And a BL:ACK WOMAN? He knelt there for what seemed like an eternity. Carla just let the silence sit in the air as he pondered his options. Then, defeated, he lowered his face to her French pedicured toes peeking through the fishnets… and placed gentle kisses on each foot. Carla wiggled her toes under his broken nose and laughed. Then she lifter her foot, exposing the sole and said “Lick”. Then, slowly and with an incredible look of disgust, the once proud man dragged his tongue up the sole of the woman whom had just kicked him around his own gym. The complete feeling of gratification and victory overwhelmed Carla as she watched the racist man licking her foot. She pressed the sole of her foot firmly ageist his lips and felt the tongue pressing hard against her foot. Then she knelt over and whispered “Remember this day forever, you worthless racist pig!” Then she violently pushed his head away with her foot - signaling his duties were done. She looked around the room victoriously.

She pointed to the two students who were licking her shoes and said calmly “Come here and put them on my feet!” They scurried over to her hurriedly and knelt in front of her. As she lifted each foot , each boy slowly and reverently placed the shoe on her foot. First the right, then the left. She smiled and patted the boys on the heads as if to say , “good doggies!”

There were a few muddy spots on her expensive shoes still. She walked over to the dojo banner - the symbol of the proud karate tradition of the school. Tearing it down, she bent over and wiped the mud from he r shoes. The students just looked on as Carla wiped her feet with the symbol of their pride… one final insult. Then, she picked up her suit jacket and slowly walked out of the dojo. The teacher could not look at his students in the eyes. Instead, he just knelt there and tried to erase the taste of this woman’s foot from his memory backs. “Somebody get Jimmy some medical help. I think she broke his jaw” was all he could say, tears running down his face. No scholarship, no pride, and no dignity -Carla had trampled it all beneath her feet.


THE END

[Razor]

ha i remember this one. Great to see it again and see it finished. Good stuff