Black Slave Auction Ch. 02

Every bone in my body tells me that what I am doing is wrong. As a reporter, throwing yourself into your job comes with the territory, but the deeper I go, the more I worry. Now here I am in a man's hand who wants me to call him Master and I'm struggling with the fact that I may not hate it...

He isn't tender. His breath reeks of tobacco as he finds my neck. I can feel the bristled hairs on his chin against my own smooth skin. He pulls me even closer to him as he fumbles with his own shirt. Wrinkled flesh engulfs me when he gets it off. I quiver when I hear him unzip his pants. I can't catch my breath as he spins me around to face him. His eyes blaze into my own with a sense of ownership that cannot be mimicked.

"You're different," he tells me as he runs his fingers through my coarse hair. Even blow dried there is a coarseness that wraps around his thick fingers. He seems to like it as he runs his nose over it.

"I believe your fear," he says slowly taking my chin in his hands, "I love it."

My fear is very real. I had never thought I'd be in this place and what's worse is there are moments when I think I enjoy it. For instance, right now he is blowing along my neck in a way that makes my nipples harden. My body is betraying me.

He is feeling my wetness between his fingers. His hands are overly invasive. More invasive are his fingers in my mouth when he makes me taste it. I've never tasted myself before and with him probing me it becomes less about the taste and more about the lack of choice that comes with it.

"Nigger juice," he tells me. I'm so slick between his fingers. My hips move into him. I can feel the familiar tingling beginning to build between my thighs His large cock is out and naked against my ass. I'm going to cum. I want to cum with the warmth of his cock inside me. He can tell that I'm edging, and immediately stops his touching of me.

"Not yet," he says facing me away from him and placing my hands on the table beside us. Without warning he is inside me. I shudder. I'm choking on my own tongue as I feel him inside me. He is the width of my walls even though he isn't very long. I'm so wet now that I can feel myself leaking down my legs. I want to cum so bad, but I feel like I need to ask permission. I question if I'm ready to ask permission. The consequences for not asking may be greater than I can handle.

"Do you feel me," he leans closer with his mouth just beyond my ear, "beg me for my cum."

OH shit! I've been all out of sorts and now I realize there isn't a condom. Everything is getting out of hand. I need to stop this. I need to quit. I need to walk away and get tested as soon as I can find solid ground.

"You are mine," he says in a deep tone that makes every inch of me contract and relax at the same time. He is making me high off of the sensations.

I need to stop him. I need to stop myself, but everything is so blurry. I grab the table. I grab the table as if it is my only lifeline in the sea of my own guilt. He cums. He cums hard and I find myself releasing all around him.

"You are mind," he says, but I'm barely here right now. I have hit some kind of euphoric voyage, and I don't want to come down. I close my eyes and sleep standing up against the table.

When I awake, I'm back in my original hotel room. Sunlight is coming in through the window. My body aches from last night's activities. I start to move and am stopped by metal clinging to my wrists and ankles.

"He didn't want you to get any ideas," Shara's voice cuts the silence; "you should find it the highest form of flattery."

"I find it confusing," I admit allowed.

"You have a full day ahead of you today," she says coming to sit on the edge of my bed, "you will be taken to the house. His house is where you will be taken to be given your duties and meet master's family. If I were you though, I'd keep my eyes down when I met master's brother."

I shake my head in response to her, but I am instantly curious about the brother.