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Amazon dot cum

Copyright© 2002 by Couture

Chapter 5

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5 - In order to keep her job, Tracy must submit to performing tasks that are a little more manual in nature.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/ft   Reluctant   Coercion   Lesbian   BDSM   FemaleDom   Humiliation   Interracial   Sex Toys  

The next morning brought the harsh reality of my situation home. The buzz was gone and I was left with a headache and the worst case of cotton mouth ever. When I saw the clock, my heart sped, as I threw on my clothes quickly, knowing that I was running late and that I would be changing again at Thandi's anyway.

It wasn't until I was leaving that I remembered the cum...

Jesus, it seemed so different last night. I felt proud of it -- proud that there was so much of it.

But now I was only feeling shame and humiliation as I snuck the container from the freezer into my purse. I thought of leaving it, or better yet, throwing it away, but I knew deep down that I couldn't face Miss Moore. I mean, what if she made me start over at the beginning again? No, anything but that.


I sped on the way to Thandi's house, and ran to her door, just making it in time.

"You're pushing it," she said, as she opened the door and looked down at her watch.

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Did you bring it?"

My insides lurched. I had hoped she would forget. I should have known better.

"It's in my purse."

"Good," Thandi said. "Give it to me. Now, take off your clothes - hurry hurry we're running late."

I stripped quickly, but evidently not quickly enough, because Thandi took off her small leather belt swatted my ass and thighs until I stood naked in front of her, save for the chastity belt.

"Now get dressed," Thandi said. "Your clothes are on the bed."

Slap! Slap! Slap! Again she took swats at me with the belt all the way into the bedroom. The licks weren't exactly painful, but they didn't feel good either. Nor did the licks give me time to ponder the tiny thong, the sheer push-up bra, the stockings, or the scandalously thin outfit she had selected for me.

I threw them on and did my best to pull down the hem of the skirt to cover my stocking tops. She couldn't seriously expect me to wear this to work, could she?

Thandi stood there and threw her arms wide. "Now you look professional," she said.

A professional? Not a systems engineer, more likely the kind of profession you see on a street corner. I needed a mirror to see how bad my outfit was, but I didn't get the opportunity.

"Come on girl, don't just stand there, get in the car, we have work to do," Thandi said.

I teetered to the car on the too high heels. When I sat down in the car seat, my skirt rode up, exposing my panties and stockings. To my dismay, no matter what I tried, I couldn't cover them. I knew from the start it was going to be a bad day.


We arrived at work, and after we parked the car, Thandi took my chin and turned my face towards hers. "One final touch," she said, taking out a pencil and tube of lipstick. She outlined my lips with the pencil and applied the lipstick. Afterwards, she handed me a tissue to blot them. I looked down at the tissue. Lord, my lips were crimson red!

"Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life," Thandi said with a smile. "Let's go knock 'em dead."

Easy for her to say, she wasn't the one on display!

I got out of the car and pulled the too short skirt down so that it covered the tops of my stockings. I made a mental note to keep them covered.

We walked to the building. It felt much longer today than ever before. Maybe because it was harder to walk in the heels, but more than likely it was due to the ultimate humiliation I was to face. I still hadn't seen myself, except for a brief glance of my reflection in the car mirror. It wasn't until I met Sheila and her eyes opened in shock that I knew how outlandish I looked.

I could feel the heat from my blush burning in my cheeks. I looked down at the ground so I wouldn't have to look anyone in the eye.

"Don't look down there," Thandi said. "You're my girl, so be proud of it. Head up. Back straight. Look 'em in the eye and smile."

Back straight meant chest out and my breasts were bouncing badly enough as it was. My nipples pointed at like flashing headlights. I didn't think I could do it, but I tried to imagine I was a Hollywood actress going onstage to get an award. It must have worked. It was amazing watching the men we met go out of their way to hold open the doors for us.


Later that morning, Thandi called me to her office.

"I need to relieve a little stress," Thandi said. "But before we begin I want to do a few exercises with you. You know, to keep you straight."

"But I am strai-" I protested.

Thandi put her fingers to my lips, silencing me. "Shhhh," she said. "Listen, I understand. It's okay."

"But-"

She put her finger to my lips again and patted my hair as if I were some sort of pet. I felt my anger rising.

"I understand completely and I don't blame you. Maslow said that people try to meet their primary needs first. You know, like food, shelter, etc. And let's face it; I'm the one meeting those needs for you, not your husband. It's perfectly understandable how you could lose your sexual identity."

It made sense in some sort of vague way, but I loved my husband and I wasn't a lesbian. So, Maslow, whoever that was, must be wrong.

She reached in her purse and pulled out the container that I had filled with my husband's semen. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "And while your husband seems to have plenty of spunk," she snickered. "His dickie doesn't seem have the ah-how should I say it? Staying power."

Thandi reached back into the bag. "And that's why I got you this," and with a flourish she pulled out a large dildo - a very large black dildo. "It's about average size, wouldn't you say?"

I could only nod my head in wonder. If this was average, then Bill must be tiny. It was much larger than him both in length and girth. Lord all mighty, I bet it could make me cum again and again.

"You don't mind the color do you? It was mine, you understand. You're not racist or anything are you?"

"No, ah-I don't mind," I replied hesitantly, looking up at her from between her spread thighs. Just take this chastity belt off and I'll show you just how straight I can be. I was going to fuck myself silly on her big dildo.

Miss Moore took the monstrous black cock and wedged it in the V of her crotch, which puzzled me. How was I going to mount it? Next, she removed a spoon from the bag, dipped it in the container of semen and dolled the contents out on top of the black dildo. "Go on girl get started."

Get started? I looked back up at her quizzically. She couldn't possibly mean...

"If that shit hits my thighs, you lose a cum... maybe two or three."

Oh God, she did mean it. I felt my anger rising, burning as she fanned the flames. I wanted to slap her and walk out on her. I wanted my life back. I wanted a lot of things... but I NEEDED to cum. I couldn't start over again.

I quickly bent forward to lick it off, but she stopped me with a hand to my forehead. "You suck a dick. God, you white bitches can be so stupid sometimes."

My husband's cum was trailing further and faster down the cock. I didn't have to think and there was no way I was going to lose a cum. Not after everything I had already done.

I opened my mouth and sucked the rubber prick, but it was too big and long for me to get the stream of semen that was running down the base. I sucked at it again, making a loud slurp at the bottom, and was able to capture the errant stream.

I lifted off to make sure none had contacted her chocolate thighs. Thankfully, they were still pristine.

"You missed some," she said, pointing at a white ring of cum, just beyond where my lips were able to reach.

I tried again, the head of the dildo hitting the back of my throat, before I was able to clean it. As I lifted off, I gagged, coughing and crying between her thighs.

"Not a very good cocksucker are you? You sure sounded better at it last night. Well, don't worry, we have plenty of time to practice." She dipped the spoon in the container again and ladled out another dollop of bitter cream. "Now repeat after me. I'm a heterosexual woman and I have no wish to lick Miss Moore's pussy."

The woman was demented. Thoroughly and absolutely deranged. I hated her and the hate made it easy to join in her madness.

"I'm a heterosexual woman and I have no wish to lick Miss Moore's pussy," I repeated with a growl and went down on the cock again.

"That's a girl," Thandi said, grabbing my ears and pushing me up and down the black cock, forcing me to blow it. "Up and down, up and down, suck it you little cocksucker. Let me hear you suck it like you did it last night. Come on you white bitch, suck that black cock."

I obeyed, not once thinking that someone could come to the door and hear us. I slurped, I swallowed, I hummed, and I fucked the thick prick like I meant it. Making certain she knew what my sexual orientation was.

I closed my eyes, so I wouldn't have to look at her sex, and tried to imagine my husband Bill, but it was impossible. Every time, I opened my eyes, I saw the large black cock. Nothing like that could ever belong to my husband. Nor, could I get the musky smell of her sex out of my head or the thought of where the dildo had been earlier. It was hers. Surely she had used it.

She lifted up on my hooped ears, pulling me off the cock. She dolled out another spoonful of semen. "Remember to say it."

"I'm a heterosexual woman and I have no wish to lick Miss Moore's pussy."

But I did. God help me I did. For the next thirty minutes I sat between her legs and blew the fake cock, the whole time smelling her and wondering what it would be like to taste her.

And Thandi was turned on too. I could tell from the way she was breathing and the slight shifting of her hips... the smell of her musk. Her pussy was just out of my reach, the cock parting her nether lips.

I couldn't help myself, no matter what I said, or what I wanted, deep down inside, I wanted her. I wanted to taste her. A few times, I tried to swallow the cock, just so I could press my face to her crotch. It always caused me to end up gagging and coughing, but she didn't seem to mind.

Finally, I was able to do it. The dildo was lodged uncomfortably in my throat, but my cheeks were planted firmly on her thighs, my nose buried in the curly tangle of her pubic hair. I moaned to make sure she noticed.

"Oh," she gasped. "You've done it, haven't you slut. You've swallowed my big black cock all the way to the bottom." She thrust her hips against it several times before spreading her legs wide and tossing the dildo to the side. "God, you've got me so turned on. Fuck me now. Finger fuck my pussy you dirty white cocksucker."

While, I worked her pussy with my fingers, my own cunt was afire with sexual heat beneath the confines of my chastity belt. She leaned confidently back in her chair, with her widespread legs propped on her desk, as I worked diligently between them, fucking her with my two fingers, fingernails trimmed for the task. With my other hand, I manipulated her clit, occasionally teasing it with my long nails.

"That's it. Oh! God, you are good at this my nimble fingered pussy girl. Come on, look at my face, not my pussy. Don't start turning queer on me yet girl."

But, the sight of her aroused sex was like a magnet to my eyes. It was so wet and swollen from her arousal. A plump apricot, ripe for the eating. She was my forbidden fruit. Her fingers were hooked through my earrings, drawing me close; so close I could hear the wet sounds of my fingers thrusting in her and smell the spicy musk of her scent. I could practically taste it. God, was she right? Was I turning gay?

Looking up at her from between her long legs wasn't much better. She looked so strong, so powerful there in her business attire. I imagined her pushing me over her desk and taking me from the rear with the dildo that lay discarded on the floor.

"That's it girl. That's it. Oh God, you are going to make me cum so fucking hard," Thandi moaned. "Fuck- fuck-that's it. Whatever you do, don't stop. That's it girl, that's it. Fuck-fuck-fuck-ah-I'm-cumming..."

Her hips bucked and I could feel her squeezing my fingers. She leaked like a faucet. I had done it. I had made her cum and it looked like a good one. One that could bring me closer to my own satisfaction.

"Taste my cum - taste my cum - you queer white dyke," she gasped, her executive's chair squeaking in time to the thrusting of her hips.

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