Slave to a Black Teen Athlete

Slave to a Black Teen Athlete

Ken Bailey was a typical, middle-aged, white male. Paunchy, two days’ stubble on his face and a life’s worth of might-have-beens weighing him down. It hadn’t always been this way. Thirty years ago Ken was a promising 400 metre runner. He had been selected to represent England on three occasions, but to his lasting regret he never made the break-through to the big time. Not for him the glory of the Olympic Games.

These days Ken spent his spare time coaching young athletes from a poorer area of North London. He’d been doing this for 10 years or so, and had never had an athlete who rose above the mediocre. Not, that is, until last year. He was now coaching a very promising young girl called Taneisha. She had the rare combination of the powerful musculature of the 100 metre sprinter and the long-limbed grace and stamina of the 400 metre specialist. Taneisha had come to Ken as a gangly 14 year old with obvious raw talent. Today was Taneisha’s sixteenth birthday and she had blossomed unbelievably since that first meeting. She was nearly six feet tall in her bare feet. Her skin was marble smooth and so dark that when she glowed with the perspiration of her demanding training regime she shone and glistened.

Ken watched Taneisha complete her warm-up routine and start to take off her tracksuit bottoms. He never failed to be awestruck by the firm, round, muscled power of her buttocks. Taneisha’s buttocks had the grace, energy and arrogant haughtiness of a thorough-bred race horse; strutting in the knowledge that all eyes were on her… as they should be. Those fleshy globes jutted wonderfully from her lower back as only the buttocks of a healthy young black girl can jut. Her buttocks moved silkily beneath the smooth fibre of her running shorts. The shorts hugged her bottom as if they were sprayed on to her. Ken imagined kneeling behind Taneisha and pushing his face into that divine sweaty arse crack. And those legs ! Long, powerful, thighs. Firm shapely calves. Ken felt his cock stir in his pants.

“Taneisha, 10 laps of the track then in and shower ready for school  ! I’ll see you when you’re done !” Ken shouted, and then made his way quickly away from the track.

“That’s odd”, thought Taneisha. In the 14 months or so since she’d been working with Ken he’d never once left her on her own to finish a training session. She wondered what was going on, so trotted over to the block which housed the changing rooms. She realised that if Ken saw her he would tell her off for not finishing her training session, so she stepped quietly and cautiously towards the girls’ changing room. She could hear a strange sound, a sound which she associated with her younger brother when he thought she was asleep and couldn’t hear him.

Taneisha cautiously peered into the changing room. What she saw nearly made her squeal out loud. Ken Bailey was sitting on the changing bench. His tracksuit bottoms had been pulled down just enough for him to pull out his balls. The elastic of the tracksuit bottoms pushed his balls up towards his pumping fist. With every frenzied downward thrust of Ken’s wrist his hand bashed his tight nuts like a clapper beating out the hour on a clock-tower bell. Ken’s cock was stiff, with an angry red knob. It wobbled and thrashed about as Ken wanked his cock in a blur of urgent motion. Ken had his head back. Balanced on his face were a pair of plain white cotton panties. Taneisha recognised them as her own. As his thrashing of his cock and balls became more and more frantic, Ken put his left hand to his face and pushed the panties against his nose and mouth. He took a long deep breath. Taneisha heard him chanting a litany “Oh Mistress Taneisha, I’m your slave, oh Mistress Taneisha, I’m you slave …” over and over again. All of a sudden Ken made an incoherent grunt and rope after rope of stringy spunk was spurting out of his cock like he hadn’t come in a month.

Taneisha quietly tip-toed back to the entrance to the changing block. Making an ostentatious entrance she came back into the building and into the girls’ changing room. Ken hadn’t had time to clean himself up properly. He was flushed and agitated. He’d managed to drop the panties roughly back where he’d found them and pull up his tracksuit bottoms. Taneisha could feel a familiar hot, wet throbbing glow spreading from her sticky pussy and causing a lovely fluttering sensation in her lower abdomen. She strode over to Ken Bailey.

“Are you all right, Mr Bailey ?”, she asked with every outward show of concern.

“Er, yes…yes, Taneisha..er..I’m fine”, squirmed Ken, clearly uncomfortable with the situation he found himself in.

“Its just that I thought I heard you moaning as I came in, as if you were in pain. By the way,” she said as if as an after thought, “what are you doing in the girls’ changing room ?”

“I..er.. just came over all weird and had to sit down”.

“Yes, you certainly did come all over something”, thought Taneisha.

Ken Bailey hadn’t slept at all well. He’d tossed and turned all night. He just couldn’t shift the image of Taneisha standing there in the doorway to the girls’ changing room. Back-lit by the light coming in from the open door, she had looked even darker than usual.  It was difficult for Ken to see where shadow stopped and pliant young black flesh began. Somehow it made the girl look at once menacing and deeply alluring. As she moved into the room Ken had seen the strange look on her gorgeous, ebony features. Was she just taken aback at finding Ken in the girls’ changing room, or had she seen what he’d been doing ? ‘No, she couldn’t have seen anything’, Ken told himself. Is she’d seen anything she’d have screamed and raised hell, either that, or backed off entirely; wouldn’t she ?

Leaving the sleeping form of his wife snoring soundly, Ken dragged himself out of bed. He looked at his bedside clock; 5am. Time for Taneisha’s morning training session. She trained every morning for two hours before school, and two longer sessions at the weekend.

Ken showered, dressed and made his way to his car. It must have been his imagination, but he could still smell the heady, musky fragrance of Taneisha’s panties. As he thought back, he allowed the residual memory of the exhilarating aroma to waft his mind’s eye back to yesterday morning. He could picture Taneisha’s crotch where the tight, clinging second skin of her running shorts out-lined the sweet cleft of her burgeoning young womanhood. He licked his lips, his mouth unconsciously salivating as he imagined burying his face in that intoxicating mound. Tongue exploring the depths of his goddess’s tight young black pussy. By this time, Ken’s cock was rock hard. He gave it a surreptitious squeeze through the fabric of his tracksuit bottoms.

Ken Bailey was 49 years old. He had led a reasonable, but unremarkable, and largely vanilla, life. He had always been secretly attracted to black girls; and yes, he meant girls, rather than women. Ken liked his girls in the 15 to 18 age bracket. He was always careful, though. Some unconscious sense of self-preservation had even prevented Ken from masturbating into Taneisha’s panties until she was ‘legal’; though, God knows, he had longed to do so for months. Another aspect of Ken’s sexual make-up was more deeply sublimated. Although he had never fully consummated his darker fantasies, he had always felt a powerful fascination with confident, no – arrogant, girls; girls who knew what they wanted and knew how to get it. For Ken, arrogance in a pretty girl made her stunning. Arrogance in a stunning girl made her a goddess. An unobtainable creature to be worshipped and adored. In a word … Taneisha.

Ken pressed the doorbell and waited, as he had waited on so many times before, but not like this. Ken’s mouth was dry, his cock throbbed in  his

pants and his heart was beating a tattoo in his breast.

Taneisha opened the door. She was wearing a tight figure hugging white mini-dress and viciously high heels. She beckoned Ken in. Her hair was swept back severely from her face and fastened at the back in to a luxuriant pony tail which reached down passed her smooth dark neck. Ken swallowed. He drunk in the sheer magnificence of Taneisha’s physical presence. The way her proud buttocks pushed impatiently against the taut fabric of her dress. The way each firm globe of her pert ass seemed to pulse with an untamed, raw sensuality as she walked. The smooth but powerful musculature of the consummate athelete was clearly evident to Ken’s gaze. Taneisha’s potent sexual allure was a tangible presence in the room. She strode with the air of effortless superiority whixh seemed to come naturally to young girls of Taneisha’s race and beauty. The muscles of her long, smooth legs bunched and relaxed rhythmically as she strutted ahead of Ken into the living room.

“How are you this morning,the Taneisha ?” said Ken, somewhat nervously trying to break the tension which was holding him in thrall to his young goddess.

Ignoring the question, Taneisha spun round to look at Ken. Because of her shoes she towered over Ken, and he was forced to crane his neck up to see her lovely face. She looked at him with her head slightly tilted forward. The startling whites of her eyes dominating her dark features with a large nose, flared nostrils and full, succulent lips she really was a superb example of God’s greatest creation, the proud young negress. Ken thought he caught a hint of a smile darting enigmatically across those delightful lips. If so, it was gone now and she was all seriousness.

“Do I look masculine to you, Ken ? Am I roo muscly ?” and as she spoke she hitched up her already very short dress up to reveal more of her magnificent sprinter’s thighs.

“Er… no, Taneisha…” Ken stammered. He couldn’t take his eyes off those thighs.

“Do you think I’m pretty, Ken ?”

“Er… yes, of course, Taneisha… you’re gorgeous !” blurted Ken. As soon as he’d said it he realised he’d put too much passion into his words.

“You think I’m gorgeous, Ken ?” Do you think I’m … sexy ?” asked Taneisha in her most alluring, coquettish little-girl voice.

Ken was at a cross-roads. He knew it. He knew that he should excuse himself and go. He knew it, but he couldn’t do it.

“You are the sexiest womean I have ever seen !” Ken said with feeling, still staring transfixed at Taneisha’s beautifully displayed legs.

“Woman, Ken ? But I’m only a little girl. How could a little school girl like me be the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, Ken ?” teased Taneisha, stressing the word ‘school-girl’.

“I think you’re only saying that to please me”, she added.

“Oh no, I really do think you are stunning” Ken insisted.

“But how can I believe you “ she asked.

“On films I have seen when a boy likes a girl in that way his … thing gets big.” As she spoke, Taneisha emphasised her youth, pretending to be the innocent she most certainly wasn’t.

“Is your … thing getting big, Ken ?” With that she reached out her hand and brushed lightly across the crotch of Ken’s tracksuit bottoms. It was suddenly all too obvious that his cock was fully engorged and straining against the restraining fabric of his Y-fronts.

“Ooh, Ken, you do like me, don ‘t you?” Taneisha giggled.

“Y… Y… Yes !” Ken managed to stammer.

“would you like to kiss me, Ken ?” Taneisha asked , her tone low, husky and charged with sexual anticipation.

In answer Ken  leaned forward, put his hand on Taneisha’s lovely, curved hip, and gently kissed those wonderful over-sized lips.

Smack ! Taneisha’s hand contacted Ken’s cheek with a resounding slap ad with such force that it left a clear imprint of her hand on his cheek.

“I said would you like to kiss me, I didn’t say you could ! And I most definitely did not invite you to paw my body; you disgusting old pervert ! I’m young enough to be your daughter you sick shit !” she shouted. Ken was lost for words. What was happening here ? How could he have so mis-read the situation ? And so Ken was still reeling from Taneisha’s outburst she suddenly smiled and giggled.

“Look Ken, I know you didn’t mean to upset me, let’s kiss and make up, shall we ?” she asked soothingly.

Confused and disorientated as he was, Ken just nodded his head and said “Er, yeah, ok, then”.

“Get on your knees when you address me !” Taneisha shouted.

“I am your superior young ebony goddess, and you will treat me as such ! Do you understand me ?”

“Er… er… yes Taneisha” Ken managed to stammer.

“What part of on your knees don’t you understand you stupid, fat, white cunt ?” With that Taneisha brought her knee up sharply to connect with Ken’s unsuspecting balls ! Ken went down like a Spanish footballer in the penalty area.

“And from now on you will address me as Mistress Taneisha. You will only speal with my express permission. Do you understand, shit-for-brains ?”

“Yes, Mistress Taneisha” groaned Ken as he writhed on the floor in delicious agony.

‘Delicious agony ?’ thought Ken. Why did he think of it in that way ? The answer, though, was obvious. It was because it was a gift from HER.

“Now, as I was saying; kiss and make up” continued Taneisha, her voice again level and enticing. With that she turned her back to Ken and bent forward from the waist to reveal the lower portions of her wonderful, white panty-clad butt.

“Kiss it, Ken” she said, “I know you want to”.

Ken moved forward on his knees as if being pulled by an invisible thread. He stretched his neck forward to plant a kiss on that blessed booty with the awe and reverence it deserved.

“oh no, Kenny boy !” Taneisha laughed, “that’s way too advanced for you, white boi !” Ken followed the direction of her gaze. She was looking down at her feet.

“That’s right, Ken, kiss the shoes” she said.

As je bent his head to comply she raised her left foot, pivoting it on its long heel, presenting Ken with the well worn sole of her shoe. Ken placed his lips on the gritty leather and kissed. Closing his eyes, he was in heaven and was determined to saviour every wonderful moment.

“That’s enough”, she said, scraping the sole of her shoe across Ken’s eager tongue.

“Its decision time, Ken. I’m going to leave the room now. When I come back you will either be gone from this house or you will be kneeling on all fours, naked and waiting for whatever I decide to do with you. Know this, though, if you decide to lave you will never see me again. If you stay, you will become my plaything; my boi; my slave”.

With that Taneisha turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

Despite his abject humiliation, or rather because of it, Ken could not help himself but follow her divinely swaying ass as she strode from the room.

Ken was in a funk. His mind told him to go. Get out of here. Go back to his wife and get on with his comfortable, if dull, life. His mind whispered this to him. His body, however, screamed at him to stay. To abase himself before this sublime young creature. This is what you’ve always wanted, it cried. Don’t miss this chance !

Ken didn’t recall making any conscious choice. He just looked down to see his fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. His heart was beating a tattoo in his chest. He was so nervous he could barely breathe. His bowel and his bladder threatened to empty their contents in his pants. His gut churned and cramped. His cock uncurled and pushed against the fabric of his Y-fronts. In short, he had never felt so excited, so… alive.

Ken heard the evocative sound of high-heeled shoes coming down the stairs. Quickly he bundled his clothes into a corner and fell to his knees as Miss Taneisha had instructed him.

“Ah, good slave” she purred. “I see that my little pet can take instruction. Let’s see if you can do that under more … stressful conditions. Whatever I do, remain on your knees as you are” she commanded. The next thing Ken knew was the shock and intense pain as Taneisha’s boot connected with his dangling balls.

“Thank me, slave” she said, as if she had merely passed him the salt at the dinner table.

“Thank you, Miss Taneisha” Ken managed to stammer whilst he concentrated all his efforts on not collapsing into a foetal ball at her feet.

“Not bad” she said soothingly, and slipped her smooth fingers between her legs to gently stroke and comfort those sadly abused nuts. Despite the pain and the throbbing ache which was threatening to make Ken throw up the contents of his stomach, her gentle ministrations were the overwhelming sensation. His cock strained and throbbed with a powerful erection like Ken had never known before. After a while Taneisha stopped stroking and her long dark finger wrapped around themselves around his balls and pulled his scrotum tight. Ken felt the touch of something cold and hard. Straining to look over his shoulder he could just make out Miss Taneisha unscrewing a wooden device. The device looked like an old fashioned milk maid’s yoke. The yoke split into two pieces. Miss Taneisha tugged Ken’s balls and fitted them in a concave slot in one part of the yoke. She the placed the other part of the device on top so that a corresponding slot held Ken’s balls snugly away from the base of his cock. Miss Taneisha then did up the screws to hold the two halves in place. The effect of tightening the screws was to further squash and push his balls away from his cock. Miss Taneisha then grabbed one end of the yoke and pulled and twisted it. She did the same with the other end. Soon the wooden yoke was held in place horizontally across the back of Ken’s thighs. His scrotum was stretched taut as his balls were tugged back between his legs while his throbbingly erect cock remained thrust out in front of him. There was some discomfort, but the chief sensation which threatened to overwhelm Ken was sheer joy at being so exposed and vulnerable to this unpredictable but ravishing young queen. Ken’s consciousness became heightened as the horizons of his world shrank. Every impulse, every throb, every barely perceptible movement was amplified by Ken’s highly tuned senses into a sexual thrill. Each sensation joining with the one before to build his arousal beyond anything Ken had even imagined was possible. Ken’s cock throbbed and bobbed and twitched as if it would explode if it couldn’t get any stiffer.

Perhaps sensing the level of Ken’s arousal, and wanting to rein in her slave, Taneisha suddenly flicked Ken’s balls with one of her long manicured fingers. The pain and the shock of the impact were somehow translated by Ken’s feverishly over-aroused mind into yet more sexual signals. He moaned out loud and managed “Thank you Miss Taneisha” in a hoarse whisper.

“I bet you’d like to suck on my panties, wouldn’t you, panty-boy ?”

“Oh yes, please, Miss Taneisha” Ken begged in despair. And at that moment there was nothing that Ken would rather do than suck on Miss Taneisha’s divine pussy.

“Well, ok, than… but you wouldn’t really expect me to make it that easy for you, would you ?” laughed Miss Taneisha cruelly.

She walked slowly around Ken’s kneeling form. He was intoxicated by the sway of her womanly hips, the jut of her black buttocks and the click-click of her heels. He felt her hands roughly grab his exposed balls. His cock leapt and throbbed in response to this visual feast. He felt her tying something which felt like a bootlace around his balls. When she finished she slowly walked back into view. She backed off several steps. Raising the front of her mini-dress to reveal tight white crotch-hugging panties”.

“Come and get it, panty-boy” she called. Ken scampered eagerly across the carpet on all fears. Nothing mattered to Ken at that moment other than burying his face in that beautiful pantied crotch, just as he came within a foot or so of his goal the binding around his balls bit deep and he was pulled to a halt. Pain shot through Ken’s balls. Miss Taneisha had anchored his balls to something ! Ken groaned aloud, more in frustrated anticipation than in pain.

“Come on, slave, come and get it” Taneisha teased.

Ken then realised that his balls were anchored to something moveable; heavy, but moveable. He eased himself forward, slowly taking up the strain. He felt his balls and scrotum being stretched, but one look at Miss Taneisha’s enticing legs re-energised him and he began inching forward. He felt something heavy scraping across the floor behind him. The pain was excruciating, but Ken was so far under this young goddess’s spell that even the pain was welcomed by Ken. Somehow, the more pain and effort he expended in order to please his young owner and, in turn, to be humiliated by her, the greater his show of devotion to Her. He was enduring this pain and indignity gladly because it pleased his mistress for him to do so. This knowledge was enough to spur Ken on to greater efforts to drag the almost impossible weight forward with his badly distended scrotum. The prize was there in front of him.

Taneisha let Ken strain and groan his way slowly towards her. What a pathetic sight he made. She almost burst out laughing when she thought of what the girls in the relay squad would think if they could see their coach making such a ridiculous spectacle of himself. Men were such perverts !

“Nearly there !” thought Ken to himself as he closed his eyes, screwed up his face and put one last immense burst of power into dragging his ball-load.

He was brought up in shock, and delight, when his nose suddenly made contact with the silky smoothness of his young tormentor’s panties. It was as wonderful to his senses as it was unexpected. To be truthful Ken had braced himself for the disappointment of Taneisha backing away as he dot almost within reach. He could smell the musky aroma of fresh young pussy. Keeping his eyes closed, he inhaled deeply, trying with every fibre of his being to commit this moment to cherished memory. He opened his eyes and looked up in unfeigned adoration at his beloved mistress. What he saw snapped him out of his blissful reverie and brought his mind crashing back to the sordid and shameful reality of the position he found himself in. Taneisha was holding a camcorder. The little innocent green LED indicated that it was set to record.