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The women, all of them, the black women, carried her. They took her to the kitchen. The women hung the pot rack. They were skilled. What was Teelah's roll in this? She felt like a piece of meat. The black bitches lifted the rack. And then, my, dear, they lifted Teelah, hooking knot to hook, etc. as if her bondage was meant specifically for this purpose. Soon Teelah was suspended by the pot rack, evenly, perpendicularly, to the ground. And she felt... cared for. Hairs tossed over her light brown, multi-faceted eyes --deep set. She was a woman who could feel at home anywhere, in the woods --in the mountains, or at a gala in the city.
This was a woman. At the moment strands of hair were streaming against her face, her lips, across her eyes... but this was a real woman.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousalmost 5 years agoIt was a masterpiece. I hope you'll write part 2
Anonymousover 11 years agoNice story I would like to see continued. Would like to see the story going in a more non-consensual direction as the black women continue to increase their control over Teelah while she begins to realize that in getting what she thought she wanted she may have gotten far more than she was prepared for. More ff/f domination and humiliation. Again good story.
