Was the precursor to screams reverberating throughout the abandoned old factory. A long ago thriving industrial outpost, that was now her personal Femdomity. Within the piercing echoes of these screams was the penetration of Bernard’s consciousness. That he had once again ran afoul of his Ebony courtesan. She was no ordinary run-of-the-mill Black woman, as he appropriately addressed Her by Her title, LORD GODDESS! All the while being facedown on his knees, tongue in-between the digits of Her toes.
Despite his prostration, it did not save him from the brunt of Her oar, the wooden punisher used to inflict pain across his back and buttocks. Her hold-no-bar approach to his obedience mishap, extended to the soles of his feet.
Bernard knew he created the scenario to which he finds himself. Lord Goddess would not tolerate the slightest sign of incomplete fidelity to Her desires. But when will the unleashing of this torment end? Thank God, he long ago abandoned control, but placed his agency under Lord Goddess, the governess of his soul.
“Asante Bitch Boy”
Asante, which means thank you in Swahili, was not reflected in Lord Goddess’s voice. He so desperately craved Her approval. For what reason would there be a need for something else?
“I think you need a more close to home touch, Bitch Boy, Something… Something.”
Her Lord Goddess didn’t need to consult him. Those little reveals of what’s to come was more than he had any right to hear. He would not like to say anything to outrage Her. Conflicted between needing the suggestion of Her beatings, and the torment that burned through him with every single effect, was a skankish problem to have. Within earshot of Lord Goddess, he felt compelled to let out a groan of ecstasy. This groan was unavoidable, and most assuredly unnecessary, as It would only irritate Her, and give Her comfort to beat him much harder.
She put her apparatuses away, gradually and intentionally, this Ebony courtesan had turned Bernard’s life upside down. The exceptionally loud pounding of his heart beat, stirred an ear curdling laugh from Lord Goddess. The sound struck absolute terror deep within the bowels of Her Cum Dumpster.
“There is nothing that strikes more terror in a Cum Dumpster than this,” stated Lord Goddess.
He shouldn’t have wailed, yet he did. Pulling at his own sense of agency, each muscle in his body stressing to get away from the location just stricken. The apparatus covered a greater amount of his ass than any of Her whips and paddles. It stung more than any device she used on him before.
“Asante Lord Goddess!” Was the new sound to echo throughout the Femdomity made of concrete and steel.
“That’s more appropriate,” the Lord Goddess told Her charge.
If it was more appropriate, that was irrelevant to Bernard, as his shivering body tried to jolt away. His thighs had been spared this round, but his whole body felt as if it had been put through the paces of seven-olympic-marathons.
His remedy, clenching his jaw, gnawing his teeth, and drawing every facial muscle in tight. This stiffening of body parts, let loose a torrent of blood to flow towards his male member. Releasing a dam fill of pent up desire for his Lord Goddess, who so mercilessly ruled him. His male member had reached a plateau of stiffness not achieved in recent memory. Spittle of pre-cum crept it’s way through the leviathan tunnel of his masculinity. Adrenaline zipped through his veins setting him ablaze.
He yelled. She knelt closer, as he felt the contact of her light skinned Ebony breasts grazing over him. Bernard’s breath heaved in every aroma of her nearness. Hoping this would be the moment she would release him, in more ways than one. She sensed it too. It was time for the fiendish release of another “Cum Dump Boy.”
Bernard moved from one foot to another, chains shaking, arms being pulled, he half expected them to be wrenched from their sockets. “Lord Goddess would never punish him that far,” he quipped to himself. Yet there he was, obliqued into a tributary prone, for lapping inside the crevices of her Godliness. He was just mere sperm waste, here to serve the whims of her punani. While being played to and fro, he gorged himself on the opportunity so few men will ever have the pleasure to know. The privilege of having a face full, of the raw, genetic material, from being a Cum Dumpster, for an Ebony Goddess.
Written by Cn