400 Days of Oppression

VIII

Kenyatta became increasingly affectionate toward me over the following weeks. When he saw the damage Angela had done to me, he threatened to kick her out of the house if it ever happened again. For her part, Angela never used the whip again, switching to paddles and canes and making sure to use them on my ass and thighs, which had regained much of their former weight now that I was eating table scraps instead of horse beans and yams. I would have never admitted it to her, but I was actually beginning to enjoy the spankings.

I was vacuuming the living room while, in the next room, Angela was working out that flawless body of hers. I could hear her doing squats and lunges with a pair of Kenyatta’s huge dumbbells. Her workout routine would have put half the men I knew to shame. She could bench press a hundred pounds, squat two hundred pounds, and curl seventy-five pounds. There was a heavy bag in there as well and, after finishing her last set of lunges, she pulled on a pair of gloves and began throwing combinations, grunting with each blow. If it ever came down to it, as tiny as she was, I didn’t think I could take her. Each time her fists pounded the bag, I winced, imagining those same fists crashing into my body.

I was almost finished cleaning the living room when Angela walked in wearing tight black yoga pants and a pink halter top that came to just beneath her breasts and accentuated her incredible abdominal muscles. She sat down on Kenyatta’s lounge chair, still breathing hard, wiping sweat from her brow with a towel. She had a paddle in her hands. I didn’t need to wait to be told. I dropped my dress and underwear, walked over to her and laid across her thighs.

Angela smiled. “I think you’re starting to like this,” she purred, rubbing my naked ass. She reached a hand between my legs. I was already moist. I gasped as she slid a finger up inside me, withdrew it, then licked my juices from her fingertip. “Mmmm. You do like this don’t you?”

She smacked my ass hard with her bare hand. “Don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress. I like it.”

She rubbed my bare ass where she had just smacked it and I squirmed, waiting for the next blow.

“Maybe I can help you enjoy it a little more.”

Angela parted my thighs and began rubbing my clitoris. I moaned, closed my eyes, and once again imagined that it was Kenyatta’s hands between my thighs. Then she brought the paddle down hard against my ass.

“Oh!”

“You like it?”

She was flicking her fingertips across my clitoris, rubbing it, twirling her index finger around the swollen nub. I moaned louder, my thighs quivered and I squirmed in her lap.

“Yes, Mistress. I love it!”

She brought down the paddle again, harder this time, sending a shock through my thighs and bringing me closer to orgasm. Kenyatta had done a wonderful job teaching me to enjoy the pain. What Angela was doing now, was almost identical to the first time he’d paddled me. I was certain she had learned the technique from him. I felt a twinge of jealousy imagining Angela bent over Kenyatta’s knee being paddled and finger-fucked. But Angela’s fingers were so talented, I soon lost myself in waves of luxurious pleasure. This bitch knew her way around some pussy.

I was on the verge of orgasm when Angela flipped me over, lying me on the couch with my legs in the air and burying her face between them. She sucked and licked my clitoris aggressively, angrily, wrapping her powerful arms around my thighs and holding me in place, wrestling me toward climax.

A roller coaster of orgasms barreled through me at a hundred miles an hour. I screamed and clawed the couch cushions. When Angela lifted her head from between my thighs, licking my juices from her full, heart-shaped lips, there was a triumphant smile on her face. I knew the feeling. Making someone cum was power. It was the only power I had over Angela and she had just taken it back. But there was a difference, I still had Kenyatta.

She slid her hands over my body, up my stomach, and over my breasts, which had also regained most of their former size. They filled her hands, she tweaked each nipple, rolling them between her fingers.

“Your breasts are wonderful,” Angela said. She crawled up my body and sucked one of my nipples into her mouth. I sighed deeply, grabbing the back of her head and holding it against my chest while her tongue swirled around my nipple. Slowly, she kissed her way back down my body. I opened my eyes when I felt her tongue slide up inside me. That’s when I saw Kenyatta standing above us.

“Oh, shit!”

I scrambled away from Angela. She looked up, and when she spotted Kenyatta, the fear in her eyes was genuine and profound. I wondered what Kenyatta had done to her to make Angela so terrified of him.

“It’s great to see you two getting along so well,” he said, sneering in disgust. “Don’t stop just because I’m here. Keep going.”

“I-I’m sorry, Kenyatta. I didn’t mean to…” Angela stammered.

“I said, keep going. I believe you were licking my slave’s pussy. So, lick her pussy. Do it! Now!”

He grabbed Angela by the back of the head and forced it back down between my thighs.

“How often do you think the lady of the house licked her slave’s pussy? You are way off script, Angela. Are you trying to fuck this whole thing up? You trying to sabotage my shit?”

“No! I wouldn’t do that, Kenyatta! I swear! I was just...there were lesbians back then too and some of them had slaves. I bet this type of shit happened all the time.”

Kenyatta pushed her head back between my thighs, crushing her mouth into my sex. I could feel her lips trembling against my clitoris.

“I told you to keep licking!” Kenyatta bellowed. There was madness in his eyes. A chill of fear went through me as well. I didn’t know what he was going to do to us.

“And you! I’ve got something else for you to do.”

Kenyatta stripped out of his suit. He folded his sports coat, pants, shirt, and tie, and draped them carefully over the back of his lounge chair. Then he pulled off his pants and I was more than a little relieved to see that his cock was hard. If he was aroused, then he wasn’t that angry with me.

He walked over to the couch, his stiff cock bobbing in the air in front of him. Angela had begun ferociously licking, sucking, and even biting at my swollen labia. My fear gave way to pleasure as Angela’s talented tongue brutally lashed my engorged clitoris. I watched Kenyatta’s throbbing hard erection jab at my face and I opened my mouth to receive him. He was not gentle, as he thrust his cock between my lips and began raping my throat. His hard fingers gripped the back of my head and he thrust his hips forward, fucking my throat. I could feel his erection slide past my tonsils and I fought hard to stifle my gag reflex. Tears wept from my eyes as I struggled to keep from regurgitating all over Kenyatta’s magnificent penis.

Kenyatta eased his cock out of my throat, walked to the end of the couch, behind Angela, and ripped her shorts down.

“No! No, Kenyatta, don’t!” I begged. Angela glanced up from between my legs and there was an unfamiliar look in her eyes, sympathy. Then she grimaced as Kenyatta eased his cock inside her and began pounding her vagina while she continued sucking my clit and tears spilled down my cheeks. Kenyatta locked eyes with me. His eyes were ferocious. He was angry, but he was enjoying himself, enjoying my pain. Angela’s grunts and groans filled my ears and I screamed to drown them out.

We switched places. Kenyatta pulled out of Angela, flipped her over, then bent me over so my face was between her legs and hers between mine, then he smacked my ass several times while Angela fluttered her tongue across my clit like hummingbird wings. When he gripped my hips in his powerful hands and slammed his cock inside of me, the feel of Angela’s tongue on my clit and Kenyatta’s enormous cock thrusting deep inside me, brought me to a climax so powerful it felt like every muscle in my body was spasming at once. The pleasure was so overwhelming I didn’t think I could stand it. I collapsed on Angela’s face and she continued sucking my clit, bringing me to another orgasm and another and another. I lowered my head and stabbed my tongue into the sopping wetness between Angela’s thighs, returning the favor, licking her swollen clit until she screamed her pleasure at the top of her lungs.

Kenyatta withdrew his cock and ordered us both on to our knees. He slid his throbbing erection between my breasts, fucking my cleavage while Angela licked the head of his cock. My jealousy was gone now, incinerated in the first explosive orgasm. They were both my lovers now. I wanted to please them both, equally. When Angela began sucking Kenyatta’s cock, gagging and choking on it as she took his full length down her throat, I didn’t hesitate. I leaned down and began sucking and licking his balls.

His toes curled. His muscular thighs quivered. I knew he was about to cum. I stopped licking his balls and sat up straight, lifting my breasts so he could ejaculate on them. Angela stopped sucking his cock just as he was about to explode and began licking my nipples. Kenyatta ejaculated on my breasts and Angela’s lips and tongue simultaneously, and Angela licked it up, every drop, lapping the cum from my nipples and cleavage, the tip of his penis, and her own lips. It had been amazing, but I wasn’t sure what it meant for the game, the experiment. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Was the game ruined now? Was it over? I didn’t know and that made me nervous.

Kenyatta left us both on the floor and began to dress. I opened my mouth to speak, but Angela put a finger to my lips and shook her head. I had to admit that she knew him better than me, so I took her advice and kept my mouth closed.

“Have dinner ready when I get back.”

“You’re leaving?” Angela said.

Kenyatta scowled down at us and shook his head.

“I have to go back to work. I have clients to see. I only came home because I knew what you bitches were up to. We’ll talk about this when I get home.”

He traced a line with his finger from Angela to me to the couch when he said “This.” Then he turned and walked out the door, leaving Angela and I with a hundred questions, which was exactly what he had intended. He wanted us to drive ourselves crazy wondering what he was planning to do. I hoped he would let this threesome continue, but I couldn’t imagine whatever he was thinking of doing would be anything so pleasant.

“I’m sorry, Natasha. I really didn’t mean to fuck things up for you. I sorta like you. Really. Even if you are fucking my husband. I hope I didn’t ruin everything. I guess I kinda took advantage of the situation a bit.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was hope and pray Kenyatta would give me another chance.