Advise and Consent
Copyright© 2022 by yfnsp
Chapter 3
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 3 - A white student at an historically black university chooses to write his dissertation on the sexual fetishization of blacks in white America. His fascination with the subculture of black superiority leads him into experiences that go well beyond purely academic knowledge.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/Ma Consensual Slavery BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction School Workplace DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Humiliation Light Bond Spanking Interracial Black Male Black Female White Male Anal Sex Analingus Masturbation Oral Sex Teacher/Student
“Good boy!” Dr. Adele Brownlee seemed so very pleased with me.
I was sitting naked on the floor at the feet of my mentor and advisor, a beautiful black woman, my elder by at least forty years. And I had just agreed to masturbate for her while she explained her plan for my post-doc fellowship at the Institute for the Study of Curative Equity.
“First, though,” she continued, “could you stand up?”
“Now turn around,” she directed as I complied obediently. “That’s a good boy.”
I was floating on air, euphoric in my reverent compliance. I felt her hands on my naked butt.
“Let’s have a look at your pussy,” she commented, pressing one of her hands on the small of my back to lean me forward a bit.
She gently separated my cheeks, making me all fluttery inside. The physical memory of Ken’s cock inside me, stretching me, made me want to relax my sphincter and open up.
“Such a pretty pink hole!” she said. “Did you enjoy getting it reamed?”
“Yes, it was amazing!” I said.
“Did it hurt?”
“Only at first,” I replied. “You helped, made it feel much better,” I added.
“Let’s see how much cum he gave you. Can you push it out?” she said brightly.
I bore down. I could feel movement in my bowel as my sphincter expanded. I could feel the cool air in my hot hole. And then some cum seeped out of me, making a little bubbly farting sound.
“Good boy!” Adele scooped up the cum in her hand and, reaching around me, smeared it onto my rigid cock.
“There. That can be your lube,” she explained, as she turned me back around to face her and get back on my knees.
The touch of her hand on my cock had increased my excitement. I prepared to perform for her. And then she raised her hand - the cummy one - to my mouth.
I licked her palm and sucked her fingers clean, the scent of ass-cum filling my senses. I started to stroke. I was so aroused. If I hadn’t just cum minutes before I’m sure I would have shot off immediately!
“Good boy, so sweet,” she said, stroking my hair to wipe her hand clean.
I watched her face as I masturbated for her. She looked radiant; the sparkle in her eyes and her proprietary smile seemed approving and encouraging.
“I met with the board of directors yesterday,” she began. “I told them about your thesis and my idea of offering you a post-doc fellowship.”
My heart quickened and my cock buzzed. There was literally nothing I wanted more. So imagine my distress at her next words.
“As I expected, there was strong opposition. The main issue, almost unanimous, was the concept of admitting you to the Institute as a person in your own right.”
No wonder she had insisted on my signing the non-disclosure agreement with Ken as witness! As she continued, its importance became more and more obvious.
“As a white person, you will need a ‘sponsor’.” She looked me in the eye, her expression deadly serious. “White people have no standing whatsoever in the Institute. It’s important that you understand this.”
She paused, watching for my reaction. I think I nodded my head; I felt light-headed and all fluttery inside.
“We do have white people there - quite a few, actually - but every one of them is under the authority and protection of an Institute Member. Only Blacks can be members.”
The picture was becoming clear, excitingly clear. My sexual arousal, momentarily flagging with my disappointment, surged again hearing the words “under the authority.” They immediately brought to mind how I had felt worshiping Ken’s amazing cock and surrendering my ass to him.
She reached forward with a naked foot and gave my tender balls a stiff nudge.
“Ow!” I yelped in surprise.
“Don’t stop,” she commanded. “There’s a lot more I want you to know.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I responded, chastened. I resumed stroking my erection, wondering at her interest in my masturbation.
“There are two factions on the board,” she explained, “those who want to maintain the Black Supremacy as written into our charter and constitution, and those who feel that it conflicts with the higher purpose for which we were established: to obliterate the whole concept of race.
“To be fair, that division has been there from the beginning. Dr. Yurass, Phillip Yurass, was the driving force behind establishing the Institute. I’m sure you’re familiar with his pioneering work on race and sexuality. He wanted to show that slavery always corrupts the slaveholder class, regardless of race. That’s why the strict racial roles were established. That was what the founding members and the investors bought into.
“But Dr. Yurass had another motive. Coming of age in the 60s during the civil rights movement, he took a great deal of pride and pleasure in degrading whites. And he took particular pleasure in sexual domination, especially of white men. By the time he began working on the Institute, he and his wife, Iona, had a stable of around a dozen sex slaves of both sexes, all of them white. He wanted to bring these people into full-time slavery.
“And Yurass’s other principal, one that made the Institute possible, was his belief that slavery must be consensual to be legitimate. That gave investors enough courage to overlook the slavery issue and it’s the glue that has held us together for over thirty years.”
This was fascinating. I was familiar with Dr. Yurass’s work; it had been a major source for my doctoral thesis. But the actual implementation of his consensual slavery concept was news to me.
“Keep stroking, boy!” Adele admonished.
I renewed my masturbatory action with increased vigor, ashamed that I had allowed my intellect to undermine my obedience.
“The upshot, boy,” she resumed, “is that, if you want to study at the institute - even to enter onto its grounds - you’re going to have to be my slave.”
She paused, silent, while she appraised my reaction.
I was close to the edge. Being her slave seemed absurd to the rational side of my brain, but my libido was suddenly in overdrive. I gazed deeply into her eyes with a helpless sense of longing, as if my very life were in her control, as if pleasing her was the only thing that mattered.
“You don’t have to do this, of course. You can continue your studies elsewhere.”
She sounded somewhat detached, and I felt myself deflating at the thought of losing the opportunity to learn at the institute. But to my surprise what distressed me more was the possibility of not becoming her slave.
“No!” I said emphatically. I realized suddenly that in the confusion of my growing desire, I had stopped masturbating. I immediately began pumping vigorously. I wanted to prove my devotion. I needed to come for her!
“No, you don’t want to be my slave?” she asked.
“No, I mean I do!” I panted desperately. “I don’t want to study somewhere else,” I added somewhat lamely as my immanent orgasm slipped back out of reach.
She smiled down beneficently on my eager, straining face as my hand flew up and down my rigid pole, so hard for her. I had never felt so much longing as I now felt for Dr. Brownlee’s approval.
“You wish to be my slave?” she asked in a clear and serious voice.
“Yes!” I panted.
“Will you consent to being my property, giving up all rights, obedient to my will alone?”
“Yes!” I almost shouted, ecstatic.
“Then come now. Come on my feet. I command you.”
At the word “command” I erupted. I leaned forward and my cum spurted and flowed, pulsing, copiously anointing her naked feet, spreading and dripping between her toes.
“What do you say, boy?”
“Thank you ... ma’am,” I replied reverently. “Thank you for allowing me to cum on your perfect feet.”
“You may wash them now with your tongue.”
It felt like a great gift as I bent to the task of cleaning her feet and swallowing my cum.