I would never think of breaking into your quaint little home in the middle of the night, my henchmen and I, and brutalizing your family. He decided that his best bet was to keep his answer as simple as possible. I doubt I have much choice in the matter really. Steven was angry, outraged; it was an offense to his every sensibility to see a Black man depicted as his lord and Savior. After we were seated, I ordered the Sacralicious French Toast which was a heavenly combination of challah bread and bacon served with curry butter and plum jelly. When he opened his eyes, I was gone.
Steven capitalized on the women who saw themselves as objects. Every cell in his body was filled with hatred for me. Occasionally, he thought about the injustice of slavery but never once had he contemplated it like that, never once had the experience been so personal to him, so horrifying. Glancing around at all the beautiful people, happily married couples, single women, all reserved and devout, Steven fantasized about each and every one of them humiliating him sexually. To belong to me, I would make you my bitch, making you wear my used tampons in your asscunt and love it. He knew for the first time in his life that he was in the presence of true greatness, an all-powerful woman. His was the only white face in the sanctuary and he was the only person dressed casually. I will perform my allocated duties with pride, love, and joy. He prayed to the image of a Black man, on his knees, worshipping him, feeling truly worthless and inferior. He loved the concept of a domineering Black woman who would treat him like shit and sexually dominate him. After several days without a response from me, he relented and agreed to meet me at the corner of N. I would be one cruel Domme if I were sexually aroused by seeing your reactions as I doused your infected, bleeding wounds with bleach, salt, or anything else I could think of in my wild and vicious imagination. I would never put anyone, let alone an innocent teenaged boy through the torture and anguish of having to watch his mother beheaded, her blood draining from her decapitated corpse as I flung her skull across the room by her limp hair. He had become overwhelmed with the desire to empty his bank account and give every penny he had to me, to lie at my feet and present himself for me to do with him as I desired. Never in his life had he felt so out of place. I had donned my best Sunday-go-to-meeting black suit, silk stockings, patent leather pumps. For as much as he wanted to do and become all the nasty things I had spoken of, he wanted to see me languishing and luxuriating in wealth and riches while he suffered in poverty even more. If I neglect my duties I shall report for punishment. I could make your asshole the center of your being, craving being fucked, stretched, and used only by black cocks and strapons, my little gangbang whore. Worship Steven fucked up. I refuse to let it confuse me. She is thrilling even when she turns to brine. He pursued women who were shallow and superficial and who only saw dollar signs when they looked at his pathetic, laughably small cock. It seems I answer all the rules correctly, because Kara repeats a few of them several times. He was drawn to my unapologetic commentary on race and racism, my keen insight into the minds of submissive white men, my intensity, and, of course, my beautiful brown skin and strong African features. Knowing that I was truly above being one of the money hungry, greedy bitches he usually plays with, thinking that he could appeal to my rational, benevolent self, Steven approached me cautiously. He knew that he could not do both.
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