Maitresse Joanna of Ottawa

"Salut, comment vas tu, Mr. Sylvain Joubert?" Joanna Villeneuve says with a smile, that adorable Montreal accent of hers adding to her charm. And I smile for the first time that day, pleased that someone is inquiring about my well-being. I'm going through a hard time right now. Alright, so I'm not the first guy in this universe to experience heartbreak but dammit, if you're careful, it can eat away at you, alright? I'm just saying...

I'm actually cheered up by Joanna's presence. The lady has a sunny disposition, you know? I've known Joanna ever since I first started my courses at Canada's Capital University four and a half years ago. The five-foot-nine, dark-haired, curvy, forty-something, perpetually jovial French-Canadian lunch lady is one of my favorite people in this racially diverse yet politically complex, at times hostile campus...

Je vais tres bien, Joanna, how are you doing today?" I replied, and Joanna smiles and shrugs. I watch as she rings my purchase, a Shawarma sandwich and a bottle of apple juice. I smile and thank her, and Joanna winks at me. I wink back, and then make my way to the cafeteria's seating area. I sit by the window, far from everyone else, and eat my meal in peace.

As I eat, I look out the window. Winter is in full bloom in the Canadian capital. I don't mind because the weather outside reflects my foul mood. A group of students, one black guy, five white chicks, two Indian dudes and one Chinese guy, sit nearby. I ignore their lively conversations and witty banter. I'm alone. And I want to be alone. Just another day in the City of Ottawa. Nothing to see here...

It's been six weeks since the demise of my relationship with a young Indian woman named Anija Sahil, and to be perfectly fair and honest, I'm still a bit sore about it. We were quite the couple, Anija and I. People stared at us everywhere we went, because apparently, we were considered quite unusual. Go figure...

You don't see a lot of Indian girls with black men, because let's face it a lot of Indians have a strong bias against folks of African descent, but my Anija wasn't like that. We met in the campus library and really hit it off. Just two nerds who met at school and fell in love. Even now, I remember her sweet smile, her wry sense of humor, and how I felt like I could tell her anything...

"My father doesn't approve of our relationship," Anija said to me a little over a month ago, as we sat inside the Place D'Orleans food court. This was one of our favorite hangouts. There we sat, eating some Chinese food, and that's when Anija dropped this bomb on me. We'd been seeing each other for a year, and I'd met her older sister and one of her cousins, but never her parents. I thought we were cool since I'd technically met her family, but I was wrong...

"How can you say that, Anija? He hasn't even met me," I replied, and Anija looked at me silently and shook her head. I could see a well of sadness in her beautiful brown eyes. Anija sighed and looked away. All of a sudden, there was a definite chill in the air that had absolutely nothing to do with the frost of the Ontario winter. What the fuck is going on here?

"I'm sorry, Sylvain, I can't see you anymore, please don't make this more difficult than it has to be," Anija said in a cold, businesslike tone. I reached for Anija's hand and she looked at me, shook her head sadly, and then got up. As I stared, open-mouthed, the young woman I previously thought of as the love of my life got up and walked away...

"Someone looks like they've got the blues," came a voice, and I looked up, snatched out of my reverie. Joanna stood a meter from me, a bottle of coke in hand, wearing her trademark smile. I smile at her and like the prim and proper Haitian gentleman that I was raised to be, I get up and pull the chair for her. My grandfather Alphonse would have been proud. Joanna nods, smiles and then sits down.

"I'm having one of those days," I reply, and Joanna sips her coke, and then asks me for the name of the woman occupying space in my mind. I gasp in surprise, and Joanna winks. Alright, at this point it occurs to me that Joanna is either psychic or I'm the type of dude who wears this emotions on his sleeve. Most likely the latter, I'm afraid. Another shrug, and Joanna smiles some more...

"Sweetie, whatever young woman has brought you down like this probably isn't worth it," Joanna says, sipping her coke. She leans back in her chair and I take a good look at her. And I do mean a good look at her. Joanna is a beautiful woman, with her long dark hair, pretty and jovial face, and that curvy body of hers. When her hand brushes against mine, for some reason my heart skips a beat...

"Her name is Anija, she's from India, and she broke my heart," I finally confess, and Joanna sighs. Over the next half an hour, she really cheers me up. While we're talking, I start to relax. We even talk about the books we're currently reading. Joanna is reading 50 Shades of Grey by E.L. James, which is apparently still all the rage with women nowadays. I'm reading the controversial erotic novel Female Domination by Elise Sutton.

"Oh my, Sylvain, you are full of surprises, you like dominant women?" Joanna says, and she practically grabs the book out of my hands. I watch as she slowly, almost lovingly reads its back, and then smiles at me. There's a strange new light in her lovely brown eyes. For some reason, I felt a bit nervous. Don't ask me why because I honestly couldn't tell you...

"Yeah, I like female domination, especially spanking and bondage and face-slapping," I whisper, and a thrill shoots through me as Joanna smiles, a glimmer of interest in her dark eyes. If you must know, I haven't had sex with Anija Sahil dumped my ass. I've been jerking off to porn videos featuring women who like to tie guys up and whip them. Gets my dick hard, every time. Yes, I am a lonely and miserable man. I wonder what Joanna must think of me now?

"Nothing wrong with that, handsome," Joanna replies, and she looks right at me, and this time she does not smile. I look into her eyes, and for some reason, I feel both intimidated and titillated. Without a word being spoken, a sudden realization dawns on me. Joanna Villeneuve, the lunch lady whom I've known for years and see practically every day at Canada's Capital University is into BDSM, like me...

"Are you a dominant, Joanna?" I ask shyly, and Joanna replies in the affirmative, without smiling. I suddenly feel giddy, almost like I want to get up and run. I also feel a fierce joy that I cannot describe. I look at Joanna, and feel turned on, and scared, and intimidated, and thrilled. And my dick is so damn hard in my pants that I worry I might...exploded in my pants.

"I'm a submissive," I admit, and I sigh, and wait for Joanna's response. The lady smiles at last and nods, in an appreciative manner. We exchange numbers, and then she gets up and tells me to 'await instructions.' I smile and watch her walk away. Hot damn. Joanna is tall, curvy, with wide hips and a big butt. And she's white, and over forty. And dominant. And apparently not intimidated by the fact I'm a six-foot-four, 250-pound, Afro-sporting young black man built like a college football player. Did I luck out or what?

"Mettez-vous à genoux devant la reine," Joanna says in a sharp, commanding voice, and I comply, kneeling before the queen as I was instructed to. I feel weird doing this, because I consider myself a strong black man. Yet there is something about white women over a certain age that compels the submissive within me. We're in the basement of Joanna's house, somewhere in the Ogilvie area, not far from the Scotia Bank Theater.

"Yes my queen," I reply, and Joanna blinks, her eyes blazing with fury. A second later, I wince as she slaps me. Hard. Across the face. It stings, but I love it. My dick hardens. Joanna notices this and smiles. Seating on a throne-like chair, clad in a black bra and matching panties, her curvy body glistening in the low light, Maitresse Joanna is simply magnificent...

"I didn't give you permission to speak, and you may call me Maitresse, not queen," Joanna hisses, and I nod and bow my head gently. Then I take her foot and kiss it. Joanna smiles, and nods. I look up at her, pleased with her reaction. Three days ago we sat in the lunch room together and talked. Over the next day or so, we talked on the phone, and discussed the ins and outs of BDSM, as well as my personal fantasies, fears and demons.

"I'm a strong black man, who doesn't take shit from anyone, but dammit, I like bossy white women," I admitted to Joanna, who laughed on the phone. We met for coffee at Tim Horton's on Ogilvie, and then Joanna and I drove back to her place. Once there, as per her instructions, I took a long shower, and then joined her in the basement. Sans clothes, of course...

"J'adore les jolis hommes noirs," Joanna says softly, and I nod, glad to hear that my chosen dominatrix adores black men. Next, her softening expression is replaced with one of grim determination. Joanna grabs a collar and puts it around my neck, then attaches it to a leash. Tugging on the leash, Joanna makes me follow her around the house, on all fours. I don't mind at all. If you saw her big white ass and how it looked in those tight black panties, you wouldn't mind either...

"You've been a good sub, Sylvain Joubert, now I give you a treat," Maitresse Joanna says, as she finally allows me to get some rest. I lie flat on the carpeted floor of her living room. Maitresse Joanna smiles, and kisses me on the lips, and then playfully slaps my face. I wince but smile. My smile grows broader when she takes my hard dick in her hand and tugs on it. A sigh escapes my lips as she takes me into her mouth...

"Merci ma chere Maitresse," I whisper, and Maitresse Joanna shoots me a look of reproach, which is pretty comical considering she's got my dick in her mouth. I nod and fall silent, and she continues sucking me off. I close my eyes as she pleasures me this way. Hot damn, I should have hollered at her a long time ago. This lady is simply awesome. Don't you agree?

I am hard as steel in no time as Maitresse Joanna polishes my dick with her tongue. While sucking my dick, Maitresse Joanna fingers my asshole. I love having my ass played with but my past girlfriends, mostly Haitian gals from my church, plus Anija of course, weren't cool with my fondness for anal play. Maitresse Joanna is different. When I cum, Maitresse Joanna slaps my balls and chastises me for doing so without her permission. And then she sucks me some more, draining me of my seed...

"Glad you had fun, handsome, maintenant tu vas lecher mon cul," Maitresse Joanna says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. I watch as she gets on all fours, and yanks down her panties, then spreads her big white ass cheeks wide open. Her pussy is hairy, and oh-so inviting. Yet it's her ass that my mistress wants me to eat. Got to do what I'm told like a good sub should, you know?

"Yes, Maitresse Joanna, as you wish," I reply, and before Maitresse Joanna can chastise me, I grab her ass cheeks and stick my tongue up her asshole. Every woman's got a sweet spot, and for her, that spot is her ass. I twisted my tongue in Maitresse Joanna's asshole, and upon hearing her moan, I knew that I had her right where I wanted her. My gorgeous French Canadian mistress likes having her ass eaten. That's cool, because this Haitian stud is an ass lover...

"Hmmm, oui, leche mon cul, mon beau, eat that ass, handsome," Maitresse Joanna coos softly, rocking back and forth, and I grin, and playfully smack her big white ass while tonguing her asshole. My sultry dominatrix didn't even appear to notice, for she continues to moan deeply. I slide two fingers into her wet, hairy pussy and continue to eat her ass. Maitresse Joanna's moans changed in tune, and I took that as a good sign, and continued working her over...

"Asseyez vous sur mon visage, ma belle, sit on my face, gorgeous," I said, after a few minutes, and Maitresse Joanna looks at me, shook her head and grinned. I stuck my tongue out at her, and I swear I saw her falter. Grinning, Maitresse Joanna told me to assume the position. I went back to lying on the floor, and she straddled me. I was in big-ass heaven as Maitresse Joanna sat on my face, smothering me with her big French Canadian booty...

"Hmmm, c'est tres bon, this is fun," Maitresse Joanna said, moaning deeply as she rode my face, and I gripped her ass with one hand and stuck my tongue so far up her asshole, I think I tickled her guts. At the same time, I fingered her wet, hairy pussy with my free hand. Maitresse Joanna went buck-wild as she rode my face, and I worked her over with that wicked tongue of mine. Yup, she's the dominatrix but with my tongue game, I had her begging for mercy!

"Go hard or go home," I said, smiling as Maitresse Joanna finished riding my face, and rolled off of me. Grinning wickedly, she grabbed my dick and rubbed it against her pussy. Instantly I hardened, and bucked my hips. Maitresse Joanna grinned as I entered her with a swift thrust. Just like that, we were finally one. Straddling me, Maitresse Joanna grabbed me by the throat, and her horny yet furious gaze bore into mine.

"Ferme ton bec and fuck me hard," Maitresse Joanna said, almost angrily, and I nodded and shut up, then gripped her hips and slammed my dick into her. The lady wants, or perhaps needs, a hard fucking. Who am I to deny her? I drilled my dick into Maitresse Joanna's pussy, and showed her what Haitian masculinity was all about. I even put her on all fours and spanked that ass as I fucked her. Dominatrix or not, she's got one of those asses that were made for fucking...

"Hmm, that was fun," I said, sighing happily as I lay next to Maitresse Joanna. Grinning, she kissed me, then tugged on my dick. I watched as she bent low and took me into her mouth. While sucking me off, Maitresse Joanna resumed fingering my ass. The more she fingered my ass, the harder my dick got. And I absolutely loved every minute of it...

"Turn around and bend over, handsome, I got something for your joli derriere," Maitresse Joanna said, and I nodded and complied. A few moments later, I felt something cold and slick on my asshole. I turned around to find my sultry dominatrix applying lotion on my ass. I blinked as I noticed the phallic object jutting from between her thick thighs. Whoa, that thing is huge!

"Go easy on my derriere, Maitresse Joanna," I pleaded, even as I positively trembled with anticipation. Grinning, my sultry dominatrix came up behind me and caressed my ass, then I felt her strong hands pry my ass cheeks wide open. Moments later, I felt something hard press against my butthole. Groaning sharply, Maitresse Joanna gripped my hips and thrust into me, burying her strap-on dildo inside of me. Dammit, this was really happening...

"Shut up and give me ton joli cul," Maitresse Joanna hissed, smacking my ass with one hand and tugging on my Afro with the other. I cried out, kind of pain but at the same time, I felt a weird pleasure. As her dildo invaded my ass, I felt violated, but at the same time, my dick got harder than a rock. I found myself crying out as Maitresse Joanna fucked me, and begged her for more...

"That was absolutely fucking fantastic," I said enthusiastically as I stood in the shower, facing Joanna. Grinning, Joanna nodded and then kissed me. I looked at her, marveling at this tall, curvaceous, absolutely stunning French Canadian goddess who stood before me. I had no idea Joanna was concealing such sheer loveliness and such a kinky, brilliant mind under the banal façade of a cafeteria room worker...

"Oh wait, handsome, it gets better," Joanna whispers, and I smile and kiss her. Just like that, we began making love in the shower, like something out of a movie. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I think I'm over that Anija lady. I found someone very interesting and like-minded who's very much interested in me. The lovely and feisty, absolutely amazing Joanna Villeneuve. Oh, and if you ask me, life is good. What I so desperately needed was right in front of me the entire time. Indeed, I just had to let myself see it...