Aramis
02-26-2003, 8:45 PM
Ms. Briggs responded two days later via email.
She wrote, "Right. If a white man considers himself inferior to me, and is willing to obedient to my commands, that interests me. If you are really my 'humble servant,' as your sign-off conveys, I want to explore that in person. If you are just being polite, I will understand and these conversations never happened."
I replied that I was not just being polite, but that I was indeed sending subtle signals that I wanted to be a submissive slave to her. She replied, "Fine. It is agreed. We will meet, and you will be my slave, my white property. I expect total obedience, or I will share these emails with our organizational HQ and your professional life will be over. Obey me, and we may both be happy. In any case, only MY happiness matters."
She then posted how and where we should meet, and when. I followed her orders, and met at her office after hours on a Thursday night. No one was around.
"Slave boy!" she greeted me as I came into her office. "Get on your damn knees! On second thought, grovel on your belly!"
I did as she commanded. "Now crawl over to me, whitey!"
Once again, I did as she said. It was hard, real hard, and the carpet was tough on my chin, my clothes, my pride. I stopped when I came face-to-shoes with her pumps.
"Are you my humble servant?" she asked.
"I am your humble servant," I replied.
"Are you my SLAVE?" she asked.
"I am your slave," I answered.
"I am SO happy you said that, " her rather deep voice said. "You see my shoes. They are the bottom of my physical existence. They are my lowest portion, and they are dirty. They need to be cleaned, as befits my station as your superior. White boy, lick my shoes!"
The brown leather on her high heel pumps was supple and dirty. I licked one shoe, from toe and vamp to the heel and up and down the heel. She raised the toe of the shoe, exposing part of the sole, and I licked that. Then the other foot tapped, as if it were impatient. I then licked that shoe, from toe to vamp to heel, and took the heel in my mouth.
"You are my humble servant, all right," the pretty Ms. Briggs cackled above me. "You are my white slave, groveling at my black feet, the way it should be. You know, you were born to do this. This is your true position in life. I can tell by how passionately your tongue presses against my shoes!"
Then one shoe was kicked off, then the other. She was barefoot before me.
"Humble servant, you are inferior to me as a white man, and I am superior to you as a black woman. Prove your devotion to me, and kiss my feet like they were the face of your wife!"
Her plump but sexy feet were before me, without shoes, demanding and expectant. I plunged into the new command with zeal.
I covered her dark feet with kisses again and again, both right and left, for what seemed like hours. I got her tops, and then, thankfully, I got to adore her soles. They were not the really light soles which some black ladies have, but they were pretty dark, too. This reinforced my feeing of inferiority and slavery, as even the bottoms of the feet I kissed were dark and possessive.
"Honky, you know what I want next? My feet are dirty and sweaty. Clean 'em for me, boy. With your white ass tongue. And do a good job or I'll beat your ass!"
Now she sat back in her office chair and propped her feet up on an ottoman. I got on my knees and began to use my white slave mouth to clean her black goddess feet. I was in heaven. I was in hell.
I was licking away when I heard the door open. It was the
Chair of our committee!
"What the . . . !"
"Our commiteeman begged to be my humble servant," Ms. Briggs explained. "I wanted to show this whitey what it meant to say that to a sistah. He wanted to show me that he meant it. And believe me, he does mean it! He loves being humiliated at my feet. He's a good foot kisser and a good foot licker. I love seeing his white body hunched over, serving at my feet."
"I seem to recall that he wrote some letters to me also saying that he was my humble and obedient servant," the Chairwoman said. "So he can serve at my feet, too. And as I' going to Kenya next week, he can come along and find out firsthand what it means to become a slave in a foreign land with no way out, like our ancestors found out!"
"You wouldn't?" she said.
"Oh yes I would, "the sexy chairwoman replied. "And I will."
Africa? A slave in a foreign land?
She wrote, "Right. If a white man considers himself inferior to me, and is willing to obedient to my commands, that interests me. If you are really my 'humble servant,' as your sign-off conveys, I want to explore that in person. If you are just being polite, I will understand and these conversations never happened."
I replied that I was not just being polite, but that I was indeed sending subtle signals that I wanted to be a submissive slave to her. She replied, "Fine. It is agreed. We will meet, and you will be my slave, my white property. I expect total obedience, or I will share these emails with our organizational HQ and your professional life will be over. Obey me, and we may both be happy. In any case, only MY happiness matters."
She then posted how and where we should meet, and when. I followed her orders, and met at her office after hours on a Thursday night. No one was around.
"Slave boy!" she greeted me as I came into her office. "Get on your damn knees! On second thought, grovel on your belly!"
I did as she commanded. "Now crawl over to me, whitey!"
Once again, I did as she said. It was hard, real hard, and the carpet was tough on my chin, my clothes, my pride. I stopped when I came face-to-shoes with her pumps.
"Are you my humble servant?" she asked.
"I am your humble servant," I replied.
"Are you my SLAVE?" she asked.
"I am your slave," I answered.
"I am SO happy you said that, " her rather deep voice said. "You see my shoes. They are the bottom of my physical existence. They are my lowest portion, and they are dirty. They need to be cleaned, as befits my station as your superior. White boy, lick my shoes!"
The brown leather on her high heel pumps was supple and dirty. I licked one shoe, from toe and vamp to the heel and up and down the heel. She raised the toe of the shoe, exposing part of the sole, and I licked that. Then the other foot tapped, as if it were impatient. I then licked that shoe, from toe to vamp to heel, and took the heel in my mouth.
"You are my humble servant, all right," the pretty Ms. Briggs cackled above me. "You are my white slave, groveling at my black feet, the way it should be. You know, you were born to do this. This is your true position in life. I can tell by how passionately your tongue presses against my shoes!"
Then one shoe was kicked off, then the other. She was barefoot before me.
"Humble servant, you are inferior to me as a white man, and I am superior to you as a black woman. Prove your devotion to me, and kiss my feet like they were the face of your wife!"
Her plump but sexy feet were before me, without shoes, demanding and expectant. I plunged into the new command with zeal.
I covered her dark feet with kisses again and again, both right and left, for what seemed like hours. I got her tops, and then, thankfully, I got to adore her soles. They were not the really light soles which some black ladies have, but they were pretty dark, too. This reinforced my feeing of inferiority and slavery, as even the bottoms of the feet I kissed were dark and possessive.
"Honky, you know what I want next? My feet are dirty and sweaty. Clean 'em for me, boy. With your white ass tongue. And do a good job or I'll beat your ass!"
Now she sat back in her office chair and propped her feet up on an ottoman. I got on my knees and began to use my white slave mouth to clean her black goddess feet. I was in heaven. I was in hell.
I was licking away when I heard the door open. It was the
Chair of our committee!
"What the . . . !"
"Our commiteeman begged to be my humble servant," Ms. Briggs explained. "I wanted to show this whitey what it meant to say that to a sistah. He wanted to show me that he meant it. And believe me, he does mean it! He loves being humiliated at my feet. He's a good foot kisser and a good foot licker. I love seeing his white body hunched over, serving at my feet."
"I seem to recall that he wrote some letters to me also saying that he was my humble and obedient servant," the Chairwoman said. "So he can serve at my feet, too. And as I' going to Kenya next week, he can come along and find out firsthand what it means to become a slave in a foreign land with no way out, like our ancestors found out!"
"You wouldn't?" she said.
"Oh yes I would, "the sexy chairwoman replied. "And I will."
Africa? A slave in a foreign land?