I really had no idea what a conniving bitch she was, or that she had her sights set on my husband. So, how did I end up here? It was surprisingly easy I trusted the wrong person. Some may don a strap-on and take my cunt or ass, but it's generally just the men who fuck those two holes. The women will usually just want my tongue licking their pussies and asses. My ass, mouth, and cunt will be filled over and over. After dinner is over, the real party will start. If I do a good job, some of them might feed me a morsel with their hand under the table. My participation will be under the table, consuming the cum from the men and women that I am orally pleasing as they eat the steak, lobster, shrimp scampi, and everything else exquisitely prepared by the chefs. I will be there, I will be consuming things, it will just not be the dinner that was prepared for the night. This time, I will not be joining in on the dinner. Based upon how they have been groping me so far, it's gonna be a long night. All members and guests are free to do with me as they will. My body is the sole possession of the club. Just to clarify, my body no longer belongs to me. The images of my former husband, son, and daughter have faded significantly. I rarely even look back on the life I used to have anymore. I am also well taken care of - when I'm not being used as the slut I've become. It isn't really my choice anymore, but I am resigned to my fate. I will no longer have any sexual involvement with anyone other than black people. I am a white slut for black men and women. That marks me as being available for use by any person of African descent. The tattoo on my left ass cheek is of a spade - as in the suit from a deck of cards - with a 'Q' inside it. Yes, brand, as in red hot branding iron being pressed into the flesh of my right ass cheek that marks me as the sole property of this club. Two other differences are that I am displaying my new tattoo and brand. Looking at me from the neck up, I would be right at home in any country club cocktail party. Other than being naked, my hair is styled, and my makeup is impeccable. Not only do they add decoration, but they keep me stimulated for smooth access at all times. Similarly, I have a ring pierced in my clitoral hood, and a small steel ball dangling from it that bounces on my clit. They sway when I walk and add stimulation to my sensitive nipples. I have piercings in my nipples, rings with sapphire gems dangling. That actually just means that my asshole is available. At least I'm not wearing a butt plug now. I also have ropes that are binding my arms securely behind my back. I also am wearing a leather collar locked around my neck, which is attached to the leash I am being led around with. Well, I do have on a pair of 6-inch stiletto heels. Another minor difference is that while the rest of the women are in fancy gowns and cocktail dresses, I am completely naked. I'm not just talking about being the only Caucasian woman either. While I am not the only woman here, almost half of the people here are women, I am the only Caucasian. What slight differences you ask? Well, nothing of any real significance. It's the same as hundreds of other cocktail parties I have been to, with a couple of slight differences. A string quartet plays soft music in the corner. The servers are dressed in black slacks, white button-down shirts, and black dress shoes. Similarly, there are other servers with trays of drinks. Hors-duoverse are placed on side tables with servers roaming around with trays passing them out. The men are all dressed in expensive fashionable suits, and the women are all in high end gowns and cocktail dresses. There are about thirty other people here. Read someone else's stories if that bothers you.Īll sexual encounters include only those people over the age of 18. Don't bother commenting on that, as I don't care. Of course, there is non-consent and reluctance in it as well. This has elements of lesbian, interracial (Duh, just look at the title), Group sex, Anal, BDSM, and sex under the influence of drugs. I write what my warped mind comes up with. As with a lot of my other stories, it pushes the boundary of believable. Editor's Note: this story contains raceplay/ racial content.
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