Aramis
02-20-2003, 8:16 PM
Well, I made it into college, based on an agreement with Ms. Lambert, my black female Master, that I would be her slave for the 4 years I was in school. Through her I was accepted for enrollment and I received the needed financial aid.
During my first term I registered for a class on Racism and Discrimination. The professor was a strong, commanding, regal African American woman who was at least 6 foot tall, and most of the students were also black women. I needed the class for my major. As a white male, I stood out in the classroom.
This teacher, a Dr. Sanders, treated me with contempt. I got poor grades despite decent work. At last I made an appointment with her and met her in her office to discuss my grades and how I might improve them.
"You can do extra credit, Mr. Cole," she said, "but I'm not sure if it will help you. I have a hard time believing that white males can ever understand and grasp racism and discrimination."
"I'd be willing to do extra credit, Professor. Anything you say."
She looked up at me with interest. "Anything I say?? That sounds good. How about a project. How about you find out what it was like for our ancestors be slaves. How about you find a minority woman and be her slave for a week??"
"Uh, I, uh, I'd be willing to do that, but I'm not sure how to go about that. And besides, Professor, that might create a confict. You see, I'm already on call as, uh, somebody's slave."
"You what?"
"I'm on call as someone's slave. I'm not sure she'd like me to let anyone else know it."
"Is it Ms. Lambert in Admissions by any chance?"
I nodded.
"So it's you!!," she exclaimed with a laughing smile across her broad, black face, with a bright and winning smile. Her penetrating eyes revealed a power and knowledge beyond her regular facade which the students saw. "I know about you from her. She and I are good friends. I hear you're becoming familiar with the soles of her feet and the belt of her secretary. Is this true?
"Yes, Professor. I am her slave."
"Then let us make an agreement. You will be MY slave as well as hers for the next week. I will talk to her to make sure she's OK with that. IF you can please me, I will give you a good grade. You will learn what it is to be oppressed because of the color of your skin, because WE will oppress YOU because of the color of your skin!! If you agree, then get on your knees and kiss my feet!"
I got on my knees and went around the desk. She wore black leather boots, knee high, very sexy, and very dusty. High heels too.
"On your belly, boy, I wanna see you crawl on your white belly when you kiss my boots."
I prostrated myself before her and pressed my slave lips to her dirty black boots. They were sexy boots, with angles that communicated the wicked intent of their wearer.
"My boots are dusty, aren't they, boy," she said. "Clean them for me. Get your worthless whitebread tongue out of your stupid white mouth and lick my boots until they are spotless!"
I began to lick her dirty black boots, and it did not take long before my licks were inflamed with passion. Once again it seemed so right to grovel at a black woman's feet and worship her feet and boots. I licked the soft, demanding leather thoughtfully and yet with adoration and fever. Without premeditation I began kissing them, too.
"Oh my, what have we here?" she asked. "I don't know if Lambert wants you kissing another woman's feet without her permission; licking without her permission was bad enough! You don't want me to tell her, now, do you? You might be badly punished for committing slave adultery!"
"No, professor, if she'll get mad, please forgive me and please don't tell her!"
"I won't tell her," she said, as she placed her other booted foot on top of my head, so that my licking face was pressed into the boot I adored. "I won't tell her, if you kiss my ass and lick my cheeks like you were born to do!"
I gave up. "I am the slave of all black women on this campus, I think!" I exclaimed. "Please, let me do as you wish!"
She stood up from her chair. "Let's get it on, honkey!" I heard noises above, and her skirt fall to the floor, hitting my neck and head. "Get on your knees and worship my ass like the slave you are!" she commanded. Obediently I made my journey northward, and met the big, fleshy, but shapely and beautiful behind of my black professor as I knelt behind her.
"Kissy, kissy, white boy," she said. And so I did. Oh man did I cover her butt with my servile kisses. Her dark black skin, rounded so pleasingly before me, seemed made to receive my worship.
"Now get that tongue out and lick, honky. Kiss my big black ass, like all white dogs were born to do!"
I began to clean her cheeks. Not the unsavory inside, but the cheeks themselves. I wondered what my parents and friends would think if they saw me. Then I had to wonder what my Master would think.
"I see you met my slave, Professor Sanders!" said a voice at the office door. It was my Master!!
"Yes, and is he good!" Dr. Sanders said. "But he does need to be punished for two timing you, doesn't he? And he needs a beating to pass my class. You think we could work on that together?"
"Oh yeah," said my Master. "You and me and Keesha, and maybe a few of our sistahs would enjoy putting this honky footlover asslicker in his place!"
What was I in for now??
During my first term I registered for a class on Racism and Discrimination. The professor was a strong, commanding, regal African American woman who was at least 6 foot tall, and most of the students were also black women. I needed the class for my major. As a white male, I stood out in the classroom.
This teacher, a Dr. Sanders, treated me with contempt. I got poor grades despite decent work. At last I made an appointment with her and met her in her office to discuss my grades and how I might improve them.
"You can do extra credit, Mr. Cole," she said, "but I'm not sure if it will help you. I have a hard time believing that white males can ever understand and grasp racism and discrimination."
"I'd be willing to do extra credit, Professor. Anything you say."
She looked up at me with interest. "Anything I say?? That sounds good. How about a project. How about you find out what it was like for our ancestors be slaves. How about you find a minority woman and be her slave for a week??"
"Uh, I, uh, I'd be willing to do that, but I'm not sure how to go about that. And besides, Professor, that might create a confict. You see, I'm already on call as, uh, somebody's slave."
"You what?"
"I'm on call as someone's slave. I'm not sure she'd like me to let anyone else know it."
"Is it Ms. Lambert in Admissions by any chance?"
I nodded.
"So it's you!!," she exclaimed with a laughing smile across her broad, black face, with a bright and winning smile. Her penetrating eyes revealed a power and knowledge beyond her regular facade which the students saw. "I know about you from her. She and I are good friends. I hear you're becoming familiar with the soles of her feet and the belt of her secretary. Is this true?
"Yes, Professor. I am her slave."
"Then let us make an agreement. You will be MY slave as well as hers for the next week. I will talk to her to make sure she's OK with that. IF you can please me, I will give you a good grade. You will learn what it is to be oppressed because of the color of your skin, because WE will oppress YOU because of the color of your skin!! If you agree, then get on your knees and kiss my feet!"
I got on my knees and went around the desk. She wore black leather boots, knee high, very sexy, and very dusty. High heels too.
"On your belly, boy, I wanna see you crawl on your white belly when you kiss my boots."
I prostrated myself before her and pressed my slave lips to her dirty black boots. They were sexy boots, with angles that communicated the wicked intent of their wearer.
"My boots are dusty, aren't they, boy," she said. "Clean them for me. Get your worthless whitebread tongue out of your stupid white mouth and lick my boots until they are spotless!"
I began to lick her dirty black boots, and it did not take long before my licks were inflamed with passion. Once again it seemed so right to grovel at a black woman's feet and worship her feet and boots. I licked the soft, demanding leather thoughtfully and yet with adoration and fever. Without premeditation I began kissing them, too.
"Oh my, what have we here?" she asked. "I don't know if Lambert wants you kissing another woman's feet without her permission; licking without her permission was bad enough! You don't want me to tell her, now, do you? You might be badly punished for committing slave adultery!"
"No, professor, if she'll get mad, please forgive me and please don't tell her!"
"I won't tell her," she said, as she placed her other booted foot on top of my head, so that my licking face was pressed into the boot I adored. "I won't tell her, if you kiss my ass and lick my cheeks like you were born to do!"
I gave up. "I am the slave of all black women on this campus, I think!" I exclaimed. "Please, let me do as you wish!"
She stood up from her chair. "Let's get it on, honkey!" I heard noises above, and her skirt fall to the floor, hitting my neck and head. "Get on your knees and worship my ass like the slave you are!" she commanded. Obediently I made my journey northward, and met the big, fleshy, but shapely and beautiful behind of my black professor as I knelt behind her.
"Kissy, kissy, white boy," she said. And so I did. Oh man did I cover her butt with my servile kisses. Her dark black skin, rounded so pleasingly before me, seemed made to receive my worship.
"Now get that tongue out and lick, honky. Kiss my big black ass, like all white dogs were born to do!"
I began to clean her cheeks. Not the unsavory inside, but the cheeks themselves. I wondered what my parents and friends would think if they saw me. Then I had to wonder what my Master would think.
"I see you met my slave, Professor Sanders!" said a voice at the office door. It was my Master!!
"Yes, and is he good!" Dr. Sanders said. "But he does need to be punished for two timing you, doesn't he? And he needs a beating to pass my class. You think we could work on that together?"
"Oh yeah," said my Master. "You and me and Keesha, and maybe a few of our sistahs would enjoy putting this honky footlover asslicker in his place!"
What was I in for now??