- White women’s revenge made the black moan – 1
- White women’s revenge made the black moan – 2
Because I respected Rihanna so much, because she was such a role model for me as a black woman who had overcome poverty and racism to have a successful career, I let it go… mostly. There weren’t any challenges I was facing now that she hadn’t already overcome. Like I said, she was a class act.
That said, I was a little surprised she didn’t seem as angry as I was, but figured she would bring this little princess into line… and perhaps she had developed some tools from experience in dealing with such behavior in the past. Plus, I needed to be able to control my anger in such scenarios. Maybe the upcoming course would give me some pointers.
The next Sunday night, I was driving home from the course I was taking a couple hours away and decided to stop in the restaurant a couple of minutes after closing to offer to help Rihanna with inventory and share with her a couple of exciting ideas I had learned. I also thought I’d show my eagerness and friendship to her and get brownie points for enthusiasm.
I used my key to get into the locked building, and due to the noise of the large walk-in refrigerators in the back, nobody heard me.
As I got close to the office, I heard voices. One of them was Kelly. I knew I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but I assumed Rihanna was either reading Kelly the riot act or firing her.
So I stopped and listened.
“Your new girl isn’t getting the picture,” Kelly said to her boss, “but she is like you.”
I didn’t understand this. Was Kelly talking about me?
Before I had time to consider the answers to my own questions, my shock and confusion doubled as I barely heard Rihanna’s muffled voice, “Sorry, Ms. Kelly.”
I couldn’t fathom why she would be apologizing or calling this over-entitled white prima donna ‘Ms. Kelly’.
Yet, wanting to see Kelly justly punished, I walked around the corner and to the partly open door… where I was totally stunned.
My mind went blank.
And although what I was suddenly witnessing was obvious, I was too stunned to recognize or understand what I was seeing at first.
In truth, it wasn’t until I replayed the entire set of surreal events at home later that night that I clearly understood the role reversal that I was witnessing.
Kelly was sitting on top of Rihanna’s desk comfortably, her nylon-clad feet dangling over the desk with her usual superior smirk as she gazed down at my boss and hers… Rihanna.
Adding to the shock, Rihanna was on her knees, topless, and also bottomless except for her black pantyhose, sucking on the teen’s toes through her nylons.
Rihanna had her back to me, so she had no idea I was watching, but Kelly looked up and saw me. For a brief moment she looked worried, but only for a nanosecond, before her smirk returned when I didn’t move or say anything.
Ever since that night I’ve sometimes wondered how things might have turned out for me and perhaps even for Rihanna if at that moment I would have said something, done something, asserted myself.
Yet, I remained paralyzed in shock and confusion, unable to tear my eyes away from this act of dominance… as if I were watching a car accident and knew I should look away… yet couldn’t no matter how hard I tried.
Kelly then smiled at me as she switched from one foot to another, and placed her pink painted toenails in our boss’s mouth. I watched as Rihanna wordlessly obeyed as she licked and sucked on the teen’s nylon-covered toes. Kelly then ordered, “Hands behind your back nigger; push those udders out for me.”
I was still silent as I watched my wise and sophisticated role model obey instantly, all while she kept Kelly’s toes in her mouth. She moved her hands behind her back, and her back straightened as she thrust her chest out for Kelly… her massive tits swaying bovinely from side to side.
It was then I realized two very confusing things:
1. My black boss was a submissive to a white teen princess who controlled her.
2. My panties were soaked and my nipples were hard and poking through my top (since I hadn’t worn a bra for the two hour drive home, just letting my titties breathe free).
Kelly rested her other foot on Rihanna’s outthrust tits as she continued to stare at me… as if daring me to say anything. But I was utterly paralyzed with shock and confusion and remained speechless.
Then, when I didn’t say or do anything, I only empowered the teen princess even more as she continued to stare into my eyes, as if she were hypnotizing me, “I think your new nigger manager is as much a submissive slut as you are, bitch… I bet she’d love to be on her knees sucking my other toes…what do you think?”
Here was Rihanna’s chance to stand up for me, yet her answer did the opposite. “Yes, Ms. Kelly, I’m sure she would love to be another nigger slut for you.”
I couldn’t believe that Rihanna had used the ‘N’ word and worse yet, to describe me.
Kelly was staring right at me the entire time with a confidence I couldn’t fathom an eighteen-year-old having. Worse yet, as I watched and listened I couldn’t help but feel my knees get weak… I had never thought of being a lesbian submissive before that moment…always being dominant in my relationships even though I was straight, and facing the challenge of intimidating macho men, loving the power I had over these men… especially white men… yet, at the moment I could feel myself being sucked in by this white entitled teenager.
Suddenly terrified at my own weakness, I quickly scurried out of there before ‘Ms.’ Kelly could push the envelope any further.
As soon as I got home, I collapsed on my bed and fingered myself to multiple orgasms as I replayed the surreal scene I had just witnessed… although my mind betrayed me like my body had back at the restaurant… I got off by imagining it was me on my knees and not Rihanna.
Once I recovered from my intense orgasms, I lay in bed wondering what the hell? Why had that turned me on? Why didn’t I say anything? Why didn’t I protect Rihanna from such a bitch? Why hadn’t I bounded forward and cried something like, “I’ll save ya from this white uppity bitch!”
Fuck!
Fuck!
Fuck!
During the next week of school I tried desperately to exercise what I had witnessed on Sunday… but every night no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, it replayed in my memory, and my pussy dripped like a faucet.
Twice I even called in my white booty call to fuck… where I was in total control. Yet, both times as I climaxed bouncing on his cock it was Kelly’s smug face that popped into my head, providing the trigger for my orgasm.
This frustrated me.
This pissed me off.
How was this prima donna bitch getting into my head?
Why?
Why wasn’t I able to push her away?
So I was quite nervous when I returned to work… and yet determined to maintain my decorum even as I was still angry and confused (and excited, damn it) by Kelly’s and Rihanna’s upside down interaction.
Not surprisingly, my shift the following Friday evening was awkward. I relieved Rihanna, so we only had about twenty minutes together, but Rihanna didn’t mention anything and acted exactly the same as always… which I assumed meant Kelly hadn’t told her that I’d witnessed her humiliation.
Kelly walked up to me at the register and whispered, “Did you enjoy the show?”
I shook my head and said firmly but sotto voice, “This isn’t the place.”
“Oh, I know exactly the place you would like to be, my soon-to-be nigger pet,” she purred in my ear, before walking away, leaving me again stunned… her intention proclaimed… my cunt inexplicably gushed into my panties, even as I fumed in anger and frustration. She walked into the lobby where I couldn’t confront her and deal with this right then and there. I also was confused by why my panties were so damp.
Once her shift was over and she left for home, I was furious at myself for not doing something when I’d first witnessed her treatment of Rihanna, and just now when she’d continued that treatment towards me. I am a strong-willed, determined black woman. I am a feminist. I am trying to end decades and centuries of a family history of being subjected to a social hierarchy where we were maids and servants and even fucking slaves… often literally… for rich whites. No way could I allow myself to end up in a situation like Rihanna’s.
Yet, that night I ended up again masturbating, and again Kelly’s arrogant smile popped into my head and sneered at me just as I climaxed.
Once I came, I scolded myself for my fixation on her and my subconscious that seemed to be playing tricks on me. I needed to break the chain of submission… not continue it. ‘Black Power’ wasn’t just a slogan, it was who I was!
Saturday, Kelly wasn’t working and in spite of my itching for a fight, I was ashamed to realize that I was relieved.
Sunday, Kelly’s shift overlapped with mine and as I was leaving, Rihanna arrived for Sunday inventory, Kelly whispered, “Are you staying to watch again tonight?”
“What you did was horrible,” I said accusingly.
“Was it?” she asked with her usual smug smile. “I just gave her what she wanted, which is the same thing you want.”
“And what is that?” I asked, not shutting her down instantly like I should have.
“To serve white cunt,” she bluntly smirked, before again walking away leaving me angry, frustrated and horny. Once she was gone I wondered, ‘Did Rihanna do more than just lick her feet? Did she go down on her?’ Based on Kelly’s insolent words, likely so.
That night at home, I again ended up having multiple orgasms, this time including visions of me licking Kelly’s pussy… something I had done with a girl only once… in a hotel with a friend of mine when we ended up tipsy and in a 69. I had actually enjoyed licking her pussy and loved hearing her moans, but had resisted the temptation of lesbian sex since… instead mostly fucking white boys, although I had a black friend with benefits I had on call for when I needed some black cock. Sex was good, but it wasn’t personal. I would be wise to remember that.
This cycle continued over the next few weeks. Each time I was angry at first, horny later and finally frustrated at my own weakness.
A cycle I was determined to break every time and yet every time I found myself in my own surreal experience of a racist version of the movie Groundhog Day.