Amazon dot cum Ch.5
by Couture
email: couture_writes@hotmail.com

(FF, denial, humiliation)

Please do not read if under 18 years of age or 
offended by sexually explicit stories and situations.  

(c) 2003 Couture

***********

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.

I went to kiss her sex, only to be tugged away and up 
by my hair.  As my head was tilted back, I could see 
it, the container of cum in her hand.  She was pouring 
it already.

I did the only thing I could to keep from getting it 
all over my face.  I opened my mouth as wide as I 
could and even stuck out my tongue in order to capture 
all my husband's semen.

"Oh my God," she groaned.  "You are so *nasty*.  Such 
a dirty little cunt.  Spread my pretty pussy.  That's 
a girl, spread it wide open."

I spread her sex.  Her pussy gaping and so pink in the 
middle.  

"Now tell me your little saying," she said with a 
smirk.

"I-I am a heterosexual woman and I have no desire to 
lick Miss Moore's pussy."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I lied.  I could feel the heat rising to my 
cheeks.

"Are you positive?"

I looked down unable to answer.

"Let's find out."  She picked up the phone and made a 
call.  "To whom am I speaking?  Hello Bill, this is 
going to sound weird but I was wondering if you could 
help me and my friend settle a bet?"

Bill?  Oh my God, the bitch had called my husband.  
Butterflies danced in my stomach.

"Here's the deal.  You see my girlfriend, who's not 
too bright has gotten a little behind on her bills and 
she needs fifty rand.  Yes, she needs it quite badly.  
So I told her if she licked my pussy, I would give her 
the fifty.  You following me so far Billy boy?

"Good.  She told me she wasn't a whore, so I told her, 
hey why don't we call a random person from the phone 
book and if they want you to lick my pussy, I give you 
twenty-five rand instead.  Otherwise, I give her a 
hundred.   This way, she isn't a whore - she's either 
a slut or a very lucky girl, because a whore would 
never lick pussy for twenty-five rand and a lucky girl 
doesn't have to do anything to get the hundred.

So, which is she Bill?  A slut or a lucky girl?  And 
before you answer, I'll tell you what, since I'm 
feeling *real* generous.  Whatever happens, I'll let 
you listen.

Oh yes?  I thought so.  Here, I want you to tell her 
yourself; maybe she can get you to change your mind."

I took the phone with my shaking hands and held it to 
my ear.  There was no way I could try to change his 
mind if it was Bill.  He would recognize my voice.  
"Uh-hum?" I hummed to disguise my voice.

"Lick her pussy you stupid cunt," the voice on the 
phone barked. 

It was Bill!  God, what was this woman capable of?  
And why Bill why?  Why would you betray me like this?

Miss Moore took the phone from my ear and placed the 
receiver above her sex.  She was going to make me do 
it.  Right her in the office, with my husband on the 
phone.

"You heard the man," she said.  "Lick my pussy."

She frowned at my hesitation.  "Come on *Candy*.  Do 
it."

She emphasized Candy.  She could have easily called me 
Tracy and sold me out.  She could still just as easily 
call me Tracy.  I would have done it for her if she 
had asked.  I admit I was curious, I had been tempted 
by her and somehow attracted to her despite the awful 
way she treated me.  But, I didn't want to do it, 
especially not like this.  Not will my husband on the 
phone listening.

Instead of letting me decide on my own, Thandi took 
matters in her own hands.  Literally.  She grabbed my 
nose between her thumb and forefinger and pulled me 
into her sex, using my mouth like some sort of 
masturbation device.

I couldn't resist.  I opened my mouth and tasted her.  
Dear Lord, I even licked her.

Thandi switched the phone to her ear.  "She's doing it 
Billy-by.  Can you hear her?  She's licking my pussy - 
ugh - for only twenty-five rand."  To me:  "Here slut, 
let the man hear you suck on my pussy," she said, 
switching the phone next to my mouth.

I could hear Bill's throaty mutterings on the phone.  
"This is so hot.  This is so goddamned hot," he said.

The bastard was jacking off.  I was furious.  I 
wouldn't even be in this position if it wasn't for him 
and he was jerking off while I was on my knees.  
Worse, he was going to cum while I wasn't.  I couldn't 
stop him, but I was going to make him pay.  I was 
going to give Miss Moore much more pleasure than he 
would ever get with his hand.

I sucked on her clit with a loud slurping sound.  It 
vibrated between my lips.  I moved down to her opening 
and did the same, drinking of her nectar.  I stuck my 
tongue as far up her cunt as I could get it.  I did 
every dirty thing I could imagine.   I didn't care.  I 
just wanted Bill to pay.  

I knelt between her dark thighs, my tongue rolling her 
clit around, as I looked into her dark eyes.  She was 
talking on the phone again.

"Oh Bill, you would not believe how soft her tongue 
is.  She's really giving my clit a work-out."  To me:  
"Shove those fingers in my pussy while you lick me 
little Pussy-girl.  God I love your hot little mouth.  
Why didn't I do this sooner?"

Thandi ran her fingers through my hair while I 
pleasured her.  She took her legs off the desk and 
draped them over my back, holding my head firmly 
between her thighs.  

"Mmmm- I'm getting close now Bill.  Before I do, let 
me tell you the best part.  My new Pussy-pet is a 
white girl.  That's right, this little white girlie is 
licking my beautiful black pussy for only twenty-five 
rand."

I heard a click on the phone and then it clattered to 
the floor.  Miss Moore grabbed me by the back of my 
head, gave a groan, and began to buck her hips against 
my helpless face.  I couldn't even breathe.  I just 
held on for dear life.  

Finally, she released me.  

She seemed dazed and weakened.  I seized the 
opportunity.  "Miss Moore, there's something I need to 
talk to you about" I began, after gathering up my 
courage.  I needed to talk with her desperately.  This 
couldn't go on.  Not like this.  I thought I could 
handle things, but these things she was doing were 
more perverted and more subversive than I ever 
imagined.  

"Tracy-girl," she said.  "You've got fifteen seconds 
to get out of my office or I'm afraid I'm going to 
have to punish those pretty little titties of yours."

"One-two-three," she counted.

Argh!  The bitch wasn't even going to listen to me.  I 
hurried to get dressed.  Thankfully, my stockings had 
elastic tops.  I didn't bother to fasten them to my 
garters.  I put on the tiny thong and the pushup bra, 
followed by the dress and heels.  I fumbled with the 
strap to the heels.  She was already at seventeen, by 
the time I was smoothing down the too short dress.

"You didn't make it," she stated.  "I'm very 
disappointed in you."

"I'm sorry."  Tears were already welling in my eyes.  
"Please give me another chance."

"What are you crying for?" she said.  "A slut you like 
you will probably enjoy it."  She got up from her seat 
and advanced on me.  I backed into the door, but she 
pressed closer, taking my nipples between her fingers.  
The thin fabric of the dress offered little 
protection.

She teased my hardened nubs, circling and lightly 
pinching them.  The feeling was sublime.  But then 
when I least expected it, she would grab hold of my 
tiny nibs and jerk.  Dear Lord, it hurt, but it also 
sent a stab a pleasure straight to my cunt.

Miss Moore continued this torture until my legs grew 
weak and I began to slide down the door.  I whimpered 
and moaned as she continued her manipulations.  "Yes, 
a slut like you will probably love it."

She smirked, reached into her breast pocket, and 
pulled out several bills.  

"Raise your skirt."

I pulled the tight skirt up, exposing my panties.

"Do it again.  This time, put some hip into it.  Dance 
for it.  Earn it."

I let my skirt fall, then took the hem and repeated 
the process, this time swinging my hips from side to 
side as if I were a stripper - a prostitute - or her 
slut.  My humiliation was complete when she tucked the 
bills, the twenty-five rand into the band of my 
panties.  I yearned to feel the touch of it against my 
sex, but all I felt was the steel confines of the 
chastity belt.

"You earned it," she said.  She reached beneath her 
skirt, I thought for a moment she was masturbating 
again.  It wouldn't have surprised me, the bitch was 
insatiable.  But when her hand came back out, it was 
slick with her juices, but it also held a small golden 
pussy.  The kind I needed to earn an orgasm.  "You 
also earned this."  She went to hand it to me, but it 
slipped from her fingers, and fell to the floor.

"How clumsy of me," she smirked condescendingly. 

She made no move to get it, so I bent down to retrieve 
it.  I had to.  I needed to cum more than anything.

"Did I say to let go of your skirt?"

"No Miss."  I dropped down to my knees.  The edge of 
the golden cat reflected from the bottom of her black 
pumps.  I realized I would need my hands to get at the 
little cat.  "Ma'am, may I use my hands?"

"I'm sure you can figure something out, yes?"

Yes, I'm sure I could, but I didn't want to.  I only 
wanted to cum, not to be humiliated in this fashion.  
I pressed my face close to her pump and pulled at the 
tiny trinket with my lips.  Her foot wouldn't budge.  
"Please Miss," I begged.

She raised her foot up, but moved it directly over the 
golden cat.  I was forced to work it out with my 
tongue and picked it up with my lips.  It tasted of 
her sex and was gritty from the dirt that stuck to it.  
Afterwards, I struggled to get back to my feet, 
without using my hands.

"You're learning," she said. "Now lower your skirt and 
go get yourself cleaned up."  

I went to open the door.  "Did I say you could move 
your hands?"

"No ma'am."  Tears welled in my eyes.

She opened the door for me.  "Keep those hands where 
they are until you get to the restroom and let me see 
you shake those hips."

Thankfully, it wasn't far to the restroom.  Only about 
twenty meters.  It was the longest twenty meters I had 
ever walked, shaking my hips like a whore, my erect 
breasts threatening to fall from my dress, and 
carrying a golden pussy in my mouth.

When I got to the bathroom, I immediately spit out the 
cat, pocketed it and adjusted my skirt.  The door to 
one of the stalls opened and startled me.  It was 
Gina.

"Are you okay?" she asked, coming entirely too close 
for comfort.

"I'm fine.  I just need a moment . . . in privacy 
please."  I didn't mean to be snippy, but I couldn't 
let her discover the obvious source of my distress.

"It's okay," she put her hand on my shoulder.  "Tell 
me what happened.  Did that black bitch chew you out?"

Her eyes widened as she looked at me closer, my 
disheveled clothes, my damp face.  She put her face 
near mine and inhaled.  "My God, you chewed her out 
didn't you?  Or maybe *ate* is the better word."

"No," I said, blushing deeply.  I hurriedly washed my 
face.  "You're crazy, Gina.  You know I'm married."

"But, you did it didn't you?  You ate her.  Don't lie, 
I can smell it," she said.  "Don't worry I won't tell 
anyone.  Besides, she's been much nicer - almost human 
lately.  We've been thinking she was getting some 
dick.  We never imagined . . ."

Almost human?  She had no idea who she was dealing 
with.  No, Miss Moore wasn't even close to human.  She 
was a demoness, a black demoness, sent to earth to 
enslave and corrupt.  "You girls need to spend less 
time gossiping and more time working.  Starting now."

"And is this why the change in wardrobe?" Gina 
continued.  "The rumor was that you had taken up with 
one of the young programmers.  My God, I guess this is 
as good a way as any to get a good appraisal.  I just 
never imagined you with a woman.  A black no less.  I 
don't see how you do it - you know, with the smell and 
all."

"Miss Moore smells just fine, thank you and so do I.  
Now get to work before I have write you up," I warned 
her.

Gina turned her nose up at me.  As if I was suddenly 
beneath her.  The little bitch.  Evidently, she needed 
a reminder of who was the supervisor around here.  She 
turned on her heel and walked out.  I heard her 
mumbling under her breath.  "My God, with a woman . . 
. with a *black* woman," as the door closed.

Shit, there was no help for it.  I made up my face 
again, and I did my best to smooth down the nubs of my 
nipples that were sticking out from my blouse, but I 
could do nothing about the longing need I saw I my 
eyes. I need I prayed would be satisfied soon.

I returned to work praying Gina would keep her big 
mouth shut.

To be continued. . . 

***********

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