Black Man One Ch. 09

The next morning I woke up much later than usual.

It was "the day after" the one-sided beating I took at the hands of the young black stud from the boxing workout. My young, beautiful blonde wife had witnessed her taller white wimp of a husband getting pummeled by the tougher black man just the evening before. It was obvious that she had envisioned " boxing practice" and "sparring" in an entirely different way before watching the demoralizing workout from a short distance.

Now, she was different.

This morning was even more humiliating, and the beating I had taken will be ingrained in my memory for the rest of my life. As I made my way to the bathroom shower, I was unaware that it was already past 11 o'clock. Weakly, I turned on the shower and began to look at my beaten face in the mirror.

My face and the sides of my body were throbbing in pain. Now, the two black eyes I received were coming into form and becoming darker than ever. My face looked much worse than it felt but the obvious appearance was absurd and defeating to me.

I still had not seen Julie yet.

Once I completed my shower and changed, I headed down to the kitchen in a mild haze. It was there that I saw Julie standing at the end of the kitchen by the windows, and she was looking out towards the pool. She hardly knew I was there as I approached in silence. Her beautiful blue eyes were focused and riveted on the pool area below.

As I walked over and looked out, he was there. The young black stud was laying out by the pool in another one of his skimpy masculine bikinis, this one was a solid black bikini. Unbelievably, there was a pretty strawberry-blonde haired woman in her late 20's on her knees to his left. She was holding a plate of what looked like an egg and sausage breakfast, and she was actually feeding the young black stud as he held a cell phone to his ear.

Julie had been staring at him all along, and she was completely lost in thought. She seemed almost frozen as she peered toward Tra'mon and his subservient white female companion.

"H-Honey?" I said, trying to break her trance.

My wife suddenly turned to me when she heard my voice. Her look of shock and despair were like I had never seen.

"Oh my god, Richard? Are you feeling alright?" she asked nervously as she observed my 2 black eyes and beaten up face.

"Uh, yeah. I-I'll be okay, I guess." I answered, lying and trying to play it off like my face was simply caused by a "normal workout." Deep down, I believe Julie knew what she had observed the day before was the furthest thing from my interpretation.

"It was just a tougher workout than usual." I added, trying to buffer my condition.

For some reason, I tried "clinging" to any shred of masculinity I might have had left. Like most white men, I was attempting to minimize the obvious display of my inferiority to the superior black man which had been witnessed by my young white wife.

"You can't keep getting beaten up like this, Richard. Promise me you'll stop." she said, concerned.

"O-Okay, honey. I will." I answered, humiliated.

"You'll talk to Trey today, right?" Julie persisted. "I don't want him beating you up anymore." she said.

"Y-Yes, honey. Okay. I will do that." I replied.

"Well, do you want me to fix a breakfast or a light lunch for you?" Julie asked.

I looked up to the clock and suddenly noticed that it was 11:40 a.m., and that is when I remembered the commitment I had made to the black man. I remembered agreeing to the extra 70k investment for his business venture, then remembered him telling me that I would need to have it to him by noon today.

At least this is what was going through my mind.

"Oh, gosh. Today is Saturday, right honey?" I gasped.

"Yes, why?" she asked.

"Well, uh-the bank closes at noon today and I did promise Tra'mon that I would get that investment over to him today. Didn't I?" I asked, worriedly.

"I-I don't know, Richard. Did you? Maybe he can wait until Monday? Just go talk to him and tell him that you overslept." my wife suggested.

"I d-don't think I-I should do that, honey. I th-think I can still make it." I replied, as I cowardly scurried out the door and headed for the bank.

I remember feeling nervous and tremendously scared to disappoint the young black stud. I knew how important this all was to him.

Within 15 minutes, I made it to the bank. I arrived only 5 minutes before they closed for the day. The bank teller looked at my beaten up face with great curiosity as she made out the cashiers check to Tra'mon. The bank allowed me to stay and wait inside after they closed in order to complete the transaction.

By the time I left the bank, they had been closed for fifteen minutes and I was already late. Still, I found some small sense of relief that I had gotten this part of my commitment done. Getting this young black stud upset was not something that would be in my best interest, and I knew this all too well.

Nervously, I drove back home to our condo building and arrived just past 12:30 in the afternoon.

With the enveloped check in hand, I made my way out to the pool area to look for Tra'mon. He had been there with one of his white women when I left nearly an hour before.

Now, he was gone and I could feel myself growing more tense and worried as I looked around wondering what I should do. I thought, perhaps, he had gone back to his condo unit number one. I felt that it would be best to go see him before he came looking for me.

I began heading in that direction.

Once again, I made my way through the workout center and down the short corridor leading to the black man's condo. My nervousness increased with each and every step I took. When I arrived, I "tapped" on his door rather timidly and waited, and waited.

I heard his muffled voice talking to someone so I knew he was there. But, I could not make out anything he was saying. The faint sound of a woman's voice responded to his words on occasion, yet they were both too far away for me to understand. I "tapped" on the door another time and continued to wait.

I waited for nearly five minutes shaking in my shorts when the door finally opened. It was Tra'mon. He was still shirtless and dressed in that same microscopic black bikini as his strong and determined eyes looked into mine.

"C'mon in, boy." He said, sternly and rudely.

He simply looked at my beaten up face and sneered.

The young black stud simply turned his back to me and began walking back inside.

"Got dat' ass kicked pretty good, huh?" He laughed.

Nervously, I closed the door and meekly followed behind. I could not speak and I could feel my legs shaking with fear as I stepped into the living room of condo number one.

"Sit down! I'll be right back." He ordered.

"Y-Y-Yes, Sir." I answered, tentatively taking a seat on the sofa couch.

Tra'mon boldly strutted towards the master bedroom with an arrogance few can describe accurately. The bedroom door was only partially opened, and I could see that it was the entrance to his master bedroom from my cowering position on the sofa. When the black stud pushed the bedroom door open a little further to enter I was amazed to see a strawberry-blonde haired woman laying on the bed.

She was the same redheaded woman that had been feeding Tra'mon his breakfast by the pool earlier that morning.

The late 20's beautiful white woman was stark-naked and laying flat on her belly upon the king sized bed. She seemed passed out now, and it was obvious she had been fucked mercilessly by the young black stud.

My eyes widened as I watched him walk in and casually grab this woman by the top of her long, bright shiny hair. He took a fistful of her hair and literally "yanked" her off the bed from her laying position. The sudden jolt awakened her. Brutally, the black stud dragged this woman by her hair off the bed and onto the carpeted floor at the foot it. He positioned her on her knees.

"Oh my g-g-god." I gasped, looking at this white woman's condition.

Tra'mon continued holding her head by the hair with one fist and pulled his massive cock out from the black bikini pouch with the other. It had to be at least 10 inches and as thick as a boa constrictor. It was darker than an eggplant. The grip he had on her hair was strong and fierce, almost as if he was pulling the reddish-blonde roots from her delicate head. The pretty white woman was barely coherent with her face reddened and her cheeks flushed. She looked dazed and almost terrifed, to be honest.

He stood above her and shoved his monstrous cock into her mouth with such force and began roughly fucking this white woman's mouth.

It was humiliating to be there witnessing what seemed like the near sexual assault of his strawberry-blonde companion. He placed one of his strong hands under her chin and around her throat. With the other on the top of her head, he used this as leverage to brutally fuck her mouth even harder. The woman's eyes widened and her eyes teared profusely. She struggled to breathe, and the gurgling and choking sounds filled the entire condo apartment.

I watched in awe from 20 feet away as the black stud fucked this white woman's mouth for about 5 minutes. That is when he finally began dumping his large load into her fragile mouth. Tra'mon then removed his cock from her mouth and dumped several "globs" of his cum onto her forehead, just above her eyes. It began to cascade down her pretty face almost immediately.

The blonde woman gasped and was breathing so heavy that I thought her chest would explode as the black stud released her throat. He kept his one powerful fist on the top of her head, fiercely gripping her long hair as he looked down to her with a look of conquest. He seemed to be waiting for her to catch her breath as she remained on her knees looking up to him in awe.

Patiently, he waited. Then, suddenly he pulled the exhausted white woman up by the hair from her kneeling position, and onto her feet.

She was still completely nude when he began pulling her around the room like a ragdoll, never letting go of her hair. He would push her down on occasion so she could reach her things, which were scattered on the floor throughout the apartment. He pushed her down to retrieve her bikini, dress and blouse, and her shoes and purse. Systematically, all the articles were gathered into her arms as he dragged her around by her hair. The pretty white woman's face was plastered with his thick seed as it continued dripping down from her forehead.

I sat there watching humiliated and embarrassed for her.

Tra'mon simply dragged the nude white woman out of the room, down the hallway, and then through the apartment past me. He escorted her to the front door.

"I gots' sum' business to discuss now, bitch." He told her as they reached the front door.

"Oh, okay. Do you want me to call you later?" she meekly asked the black stud as he ripped her hair firmly.

"You do that." He ordered, opening the door and literally tossing her out into the hallway outside his apartment. She was naked, and with her clothes clutched in her arms as she stumbled out.

The black man simply slammed the door shut and began walking back into the livingroom as if this was routine for him. My awestrucked face was beet red and I was speechless. His mammoth cock stuffed back into those flimsy little black bikinis was now noticeably dripping with his seed. He simply walked back in without a care in the world as I swallowed the lump in my throat.

He would never mention anything about the beautiful white woman he had just used and kicked out of his condo apartment.

"You drink beer?" He suddenly asked me.

Still speechless, I looked up at him in disbelief. My mouth tried forming the word "no" as I shook my head and tried explaining that I didn't drink beer. But, no words came out.

"You do now. In the frige." He said.

"Git me one while you're at it and let's take a look at what'cha brought me today." He said, cockily.

I got up from the sofa and walked over to his kitchen to "fetch" the beer from his refrigerator. Suddenly, my cell phone "beeped" and I looked down to see it was a text message from Julie.

"Where are you?" her text message read.

"At Tra'mon's talking about the investment." I returned.

"OK." her return text read.

I looked over to see Tra'mon beginning to sit down on a cushioned chair. He was holding the envelope I brought with the check inside. Nervously, I opened the 2 bottles of imported beer and began walking back into the livingroom. That is when my cell phone chirped another incoming text message.

"Don't forget to tell Trey you can't practice fighting with him anymore." she texted.

Embarrassed, I handed the black stud one of the beers and held the other in my weakling hands. I then sat on the end of the sofa to the left of his cushioned chair. My hands were shaking as I set my cell down on the small table before us, and Tra'mon noticed this.

"The little woman, huh?" He asked, grinning.

"Y-Y-Yeah." I answered, my eyes falling to the floor, embarrassed.

"Yeah, well dat's one fine piece of ass ya' got there for a wife whiteboy." He said, rudely smiling.

"What's she want from you now?" He asked, rather casually.

I was intimidated and terrified to the point of near tears at this particular moment. I didn't want to say that my young, blonde wife wanted me to stop sparring with him. I knew that I wanted it all to stop, myself, and this was the main reason I was here investing an additional 70 thousand.

But, I told him anyway.

"W-Well, sh-she doesn't w-want me sparring anymore." I answered, quivering as I set the other bottle of beer on the table.

My face must have turned a different shade of red than the bruises I took from the beating. He looked at me almost amused. He took a drink of beer from his bottle and contemplated my overwhelming look of embarrassment.

"She saw her big pussy of a husband gettin' dat' ass kicked, didn't she?" He sneered.

My head lowered in complete shame. My face blushed a thousand times more and his words ripped right through me like a knife through butter. My fear of him and the embarrassment I felt had to be so obvious to him. I couldn't believe he had just called me that name so boldly and I found myself unable to answer for the moment.

"You must've been tellin' her you were once all that, huh?" he laughed, continuing.

"Typical white boy bullshit." he ripped.

I kept my eyes lowered as the black man spoke.

"Now, you think investing in a brotha will stop it all, don't you?" he asked, opening the envelope and looking at the check.

There was an uncomfortable silence as it seemed the young black stud was getting upset by his own words. I didn't understand why he would be angry after I just handed him another cashier's check, making my total investment in his new workout center business $120,000.00?!

I was trembling in fear as I sat on the end of his sofa. I simply did not know how to react at the moment. All I could think about was trying to get out of there and running for cover.

"Dat' true, boy? You trying to buy me off?" he asked firmly.

My eyes remained to the carpeted floor before the sofa as the black stud now stood up before his chair. His powerful presence overwhelmed me as I sat there shaking in complete silence.

"You trying to buy me out? You trying to get a nigga to sell out so you can look good to dat' pretty lil' wife of yours?" he asked loudly.

The pause was merely seconds.

"I asked you a question, boy!" Tra'mon ripped, now standing right before me.

"Oh my god! N-N-No, I-I wasn't th-thinking that, Sir. N-No, s-sir. N-Not at all, Sir." I cowardly replied.

The young black stud simply reached down and put his strong hand to my throat. He lifted me to my feet by it until I was standing right before him. My 6'4" tall frame and being seven inches taller than him at 5'9" tall didn't seem to matter in the least. I was petrified as he held me by my neck when his aggressive eyes met mine.

"What'd I tell you before?" He asked, quizzing me, his grip on my neck getting firmer.

At the time, I was confused by the black stud's question and had no concept of how I should answer him. My mind was drifting as my already beaten up face looked slightly downward into his fierce-looking eyes. I still had no answer.

"I told ya' it's all about respect, boy! Didn't I?" he asked.

"Y-Yes, Sir." I whispered.

"Say it!" he ordered.

"It's all a-about r-respect, S-Sir." I repeated, my eyes now tearing up.

"Dats' right. Respect for the black man!" he yelled, firming his grip on my neck.

"Y-Yes, Sir. R-Respect for the b-b-black man, S-sir." I repeated, once again.

The black stud then released my throat and shoved me back down to the sofa. I gasped and put my hands to my own neck coughing and trying to regain my composure. I was thankful that the young black man didn't beat me up again.

"The workouts will continue." he said.

"I'll tell ya' when, whiteboy. You just need to explain it all to that pretty little white wife of yours, ya' got that?" He yelled.

"P-Please, Sir?" I begged.

"You just tell her that we won't be sparring so much anymore, and that you'll be still helping wit' my workouts. Got dat'?" he ordered.

"Y-Yes, S-Sir, Okay." I whispered, defeatedly.

"Good! Now, git' the fuck outta my face before I get really upset." he commanded.

"Y-Yes, Sir. O-O-Okay, Sir." I mumbled.

I was terrifed beyond words. Meekly, I stood up from the sofa and took my first two steps towards the door. The black stud was to my right side and his stern face and aggressive eyes caught mine for a split second. Again, I immediately lowered my eyes before him.

When I took my first step past him, the young black man "literally" landed one swift kick to my backside. His rude, arrogant kick to my ass sent me falling forward towards the door on my hands and knees. Embarrassed and afraid, I simply picked myself up from the floor and opened the door. I didn't look back as I walked out of his condo apartment.

It was another moment of humiliation as I made my way back to my own condo. I walked with my proverbial tail between my legs trying to think of the words I would use to explain to my young wife that the workouts would continue.

The young black stud had all but threatened me and literally kicked my backside because, in his own mind, I had "offended" him.

To him, I was not showing the proper respect to him, or to black men. My reasons for investing in his business was just a way of "paying him off" to stop beating me up.

He knew this all too well, and I was ashamed to admit that he was right.

Still, when I returned to my apartment and saw Julie I could not find the courage to tell her the truth. Not exactly. It would have been far too humiliating to admit to her what had happened in Tra'mon's apartment minutes before. Once again, I found myself lying uncontrollably to protect any shred of masculinity I may have had left.

"Tra'mon still needs a workout partner and, well, I said I would just do that until he finds another." I told my wife.

"Oh, Richard. No, I don't want him beating you up like that anymore." Julie said.

"H-He said that h-he doesn't need to sp-spar with me anymore, honey. He j-just said regular workouts, okay?" I lied.

"What's that mean?" she asked.

"Ya' know. Just workouts with machines and weights, exercising. Holding the heavy bag for him. That's all." I answered, still completely unaware of what the black man wanted.

"Well, I guess that's okay then. Besides, Trey said he's going to be busy after his Sunday match at the fight club. He said he's going to start looking for the right location for his workout center." Julie informed me.

"Trey must have been so grateful for your investments though, right?" she asked.