Blac Couple's Slave Fantasy

My name is Cordelia Hall O'Hara. Friends call me Cordy, for short. I'm a tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed Irishwoman living in the city of Easton, in southeastern Massachusetts. By day, I'm a patrol supervisor with the Massachusetts State Police. By night, well, you'll soon be getting the whole bloody idea. Tonight, my beloved husband Paul O'Hara, (my favorite skinny, brown-haired, bespectacled Irish-American accountant ) and I are going to a special club located in Easton's North Side. A club where our wildest fantasies will come true. It's called the Black Wave Club. I'm hoping that tonight's outing will bring new life and energy into our marriage. Things haven't been great lately. We're both working professionals and don't have much time for the maintenance of a love life. The last time we did it was three weeks ago. Something's got to give otherwise we're doomed.

We arrived at the club, and found the festivities in full swing. The Black Wave Club is a unique swinger's club which caters to some very unusual needs. It's all about interracial encounters. For single men, single women, couples, etc. Open to all lifestyles. Gays. Lesbians. Bisexuals. Transsexuals. Heterosexuals. Tonight, we were offered a special treat. It's dominance and submission night for men and women of all races and backgrounds involved in the BDSM lifestyle. To make the night extra-special, the club specifically hired sexy black men and beautiful black women and paid them handsomely to cater to the unique demands of the patrons. At first glance, the club seemed just like any other night club. Except that it had been retrofitted to resemble your classic BDSM dungeon as closely as possible.

We were greeted by our host, a tall, regal-looking black woman clad in a shiny red dress. She introduced herself as Madam Blaze and bade us welcome. I recognized the woman immediately, and wondered why she bothered with the formal greeting. Then I remembered where we were. They insist on decorum in this place. Only a look in her eyes betrayed the fact that we knew each other. We're old colleagues, her and I. We met at the State Police Academy in New Braintree way back in the 1990s. She worked as a state policewoman for a time, then quit to become a best-selling author and businesswoman. Lately, she has taken to dabbling into the dark side of human sexuality. She's the one who got me into all that. We were lovers before I met my husband. I must say that tonight, she was looking splendid. We kissed, then I shook her hand and Paul nodded graciously. Mistress Blaze looked me up and down before grinning wickedly and saying I looked good. I smiled, and told her she looked fantastic. Shrugging, she told us to follow her and ushered us into the depths of the club. As Paul and I took a look around, we were amazed. About a dozen men and women were moving about, doing all kinds of wondrously perverted things to each other.

Paul and I watched from a balcony along with the other guests as the performers did their thing. A tall, sexy and big-bottomed, dark-skinned young black woman was entertaining a plump, leather-clad, matronly blonde-haired Caucasian woman who looked more like a schoolteacher than a dungeon mistress. The blonde woman introduced herself to the audience as Mistress Emerald, and her slave as Ebony. Mistress Emerald ordered the sexy black gal to get on all fours and Ebony obeyed. The blonde matron then placed a collar around her neck, fixed to a leash. Then she led the young woman about the room, parading her before the assembled guests.

Shaking my head, I smiled. Wow. Mistress Blaze really went all out tonight. Sometimes, I wonder where she finds these people. The performers, not the club goers. The men and women who frequent the club are ordinary folks just like you and me. Cops. Teachers. Librarians. Accountants. Firemen. Nurses. Doctors. Lawyers. Businesspeople. Bus drivers. It's an elite club, but they don't have an elitist mindset. I wouldn't frequent the club if that's how the people were. I've never cared for stuck-up people, or those with an inferiority complex. I can't stand the kind of people who felt that their status and social standing in this life made them superior or inferior to their fellow human beings. We all come into this world with nothing and that's how we all leave it, folks. We might as well enjoy our time down here while it lasts.

Nearby, a tall, buxom and blonde-haired, twenty-something woman who looked like a centerfold was being dominated by a tall, powerfully built and quite massively muscled, ruggedly handsome young black man. I asked Mistress Blaze about these two. Mistress Blaze smiled, and told me all about them. The tall, buxom blonde woman was none other than local news reporter Sharon Wilson, and she was a regular at the Black Wave Club. Sharon Wilson was really into tall, good-looking and domineering black men. She also had a submissive streak the length of the Atlantic Ocean. That's why Mistress Blaze hooked her up with Byron, the club's specialist. Whenever a woman or a couple come calling and they specifically request interracial domination as their fetish, he steps in to make their wildest dreams come true.

Presently, he had Sharon Wilson on all fours, with a leash fixed to a spiked collar around her neck. Face down and ass up, he took her. Thrusting his big cock into her pussy, he yanked on her long blonde hair and fucked her hard. Sharon Wilson screamed like a woman possessed and urged him to fuck her harder. Wow. She was really into it. In fact, she screamed at Byron to fuck her harder. Folks, you had better believe me when I tell you that the sexy black stud was happy to oblige. This Sharon woman was something else. What a freak!

I never would have guessed she'd be into this sort of thing. When I turn on the morning news and see her in her chick business suit looking all professional, prim and proper, I seldom see even a shadow of the freak underneath. The secret lives of women and men will never cease to amaze me. Of course, if some of my fellow state policemen and policewomen were told I frequented this sort of establishment, it might stun them hard enough to give them a heart attack. When will we all learn that there are many different sides to all people? No human being who has ever lived is just one thing and one thing only. We're all multi-dimensional characters. How else would you explain the surface normalcy of the lives of people who frequent places like this?

Paul and I continued to look around. Even though this wasn't his first night at the Black Wave Club, Paul looked nervous. I kissed him, and told him to relax. Taking his hand in mine, I led him to a rather interesting spectacle. Mistress Emerald was whipping the lovely Ebony with a fine black leather whip. And Ebony did not make a sound for she was bound and gagged. Watching the whip turn her beautiful dark skin a deep shade of blue absolutely turned me on. Oh, I'm not a sadist. I just like to watch.

After Mistress Emerald gave Ebony a good thrashing, she donned a strap-on dildo and propped the gal up for a good fucking. Holding onto Ebony's hips, Mistress Emerald thrust into her womanhood. Barely a whimper escaped Ebony's mouth. Mistress Emerald grabbed a handful of Ebony's long, lustrous black hair and yanked her head back while fucking her. I looked at Paul and noticed that his eyes were riveted to the interracial lesbian domination scene. Wow. Good to know he wasn't completely immune to all of this. He watched intently, and I could tell he was excited by what he saw. The sweat on his brow and the bulge in his pants told me as much. I smiled, and squeezed his hand. He said nothing, his eyes riveted on the scene unfolding before us. Yeah, he was fascinated alright.

And so went the evening, folks. Paul and I had the time of our lives watching men and women of all races dominating, and being dominated. The culmination of the evening came when the two subs we had previously seen enduring all manner of torment decided to turn the tables on their masters. Sharon Wilson decided to show Byron a thing or two about interracial domination. She bent the big black man over, and bound him before sodomizing him with a strap-on dildo provided to her by one of Mistress Blaze's minions.

Wow. I did not expect this turn of events, folks. Neither did Paul. He watched with even greater fascination than before. Sharon spread Byron's ass cheeks and thrust the dildo deep into him. The big black man screamed as the blonde reporter fucked him hard with her big strap-on. As for Mistress Emerald, she lost her right to that title as Ebony viciously tackled her before fastening the collar and leash to her neck. Then, Ebony donned a strap-on of her very own and showed Emerald a thing or two about lesbian domination. Emerald screamed as Ebony began to fuck her brutally, slamming into her with all her might, courtesy of the strap-on. Man, this was so intense. The submissives turned against the dominants, and executed the most vicious reversal I had ever seen. And since neither Byron nor Emerald were gagged, Paul and I along with every man and woman in the audience could hear their screams. It was music to our ears.

Suddenly, Mistress Blaze seemingly materialized next to me. She asked me what I thought of this surprising turn of events. I smiled, and told her it was completely unexpected. I was loving every minute of it. Mistress Blaze smiled, and thanked me for appreciating her hard work. She went to great pains to set the whole thing up. Below us, the action was wrapping up. Sharon and Ebony finished off their vanquished masters, then unbound them. Byron and Emerald rose to their feet, then all four of them took a bow. That's when the audience began clapping. Paul and I clapped vigorously along with the others. Then Mistress Blaze's workers escorted us out of the balcony and back into a large room where drinks and food were served.

Paul and I didn't stay for the reception. We took our leave from Mistress Blaze and left. After watching such an awesome, thrilling spectacle, I was aching for a good lay. And so was Paul. We barely made it to the parking lot before we started kissing. In between kisses, I asked him what he thought of my gift to him. Paul kissed me passionately, and told me he loved me. I kissed him, and told him I loved him too. Then we made love right then and there. I didn't care if we got caught. I'd just flash any Easton cop who came calling my damn badge. When we went home that night, we hooked up again. It was the most fun either of us had together in ages. Gives me hope for our marriage. Our passion is back!