Yellow Fever Ch. 03

"You dirty, gold-digging..." He began to say. I brought the Taser back to its commanding position near his balls, ready to make good on my earlier threat.

"Dirty, gold-digging what, exactly?" I asked dangerously, looking him dead in the eye. He looked right back at me.

"Bitch." He said, defiantly.

"'Bitch' is ok," I replied calmly, "I'll let you have 'bitch'."

If I was being honest, his defiance was impressive. All these months planning payback against him, I half expected to see an inner coward come crawling out, begging me to show him the gentleness and mercy he had denied to me. But if there was an inner coward, he stayed huddled up in his little hiding spot. The man tied up before me may have been afraid, but he certainly wasn't showing it.

In fact, if I was being really honest with myself, getting this up close and personal with such a prime example of the male gender with his only marginally diminished arrogance in the face of danger and powerlessness was starting to make me wet.

"Ok, fine." He answered at length, "Just let me out of this chair and I'll sign the damn documents."

"Ok then," I said, getting down on my knees and putting the Taser down on the ground in front of me, "I'll even give you a little 'encouragement' while you do it. Also, if you're planning to do anything other than pick up the pen, sign those papers, and put your hand back in the restraint when you're finished, just remember I can bite."

To illustrate the threat, I opened my mouth bared my teeth as I took the first few inches of his cock in mouth and gently closed my lips around them. I fondled his balls with one hand and used the remote to unlock the right arm restraint with the other.

I heard the clicking sound as it unlocked and kept my gaze down and my head bobbing. This was by far the riskiest part of the plan since he could easily knock me out with one punch to the head. Holding his manhood hostage was the key to keeping him compliant. As I heard him scribble out his signature on each of the papers, I gave him gentle reminders about my teeth as I bobbed and sucked, caressing and massaging his manhood with my lips and tongue. When he was done, I looked up with his dick still in my mouth to make sure he was doing what I told him to. He obediently put his hand back inside the clamp, and I used the remote to re-trap his wrist.

With my prey safely back in cuffs, I withdrew his cock from my mouth, taking in a big gasp of air. Giving oral was supposed to be degrading and submissive, and yet I'd successfully kept my rapist under my control by sucking his dick and threatening to bite. I had no idea blowjobs could be so empowering; judging from the look on his face, he didn't either. There was no look of smug satisfaction visible on his face from the sight of an Asian girl on her knees worshipping White cock. Looking down at me as he was doing now, I could see his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in grudging acceptance of the situation he'd been forced into.

"Good boy," I told him with a smile, kissing the tip of his fleshy spear as a little reward.

Inches away from my face, I realized this was the first time I'd really gotten a chance to examine the instrument that had made me a mother. It truly was a magnificent specimen. At full staff, it was eight inches long, over an inch thick, and had a gentle, backwards-sloping curve to it. I remembered all too well that he had raped me with this tool, but it was still impressive to behold. I gingerly peeled back the foreskin to look at the head: a full mushroom-like shape with a healthy shade of pink. Hanging below his cock were a pair of tangerine-sized testicles, brimming with the seed that had given life to my baby girl.

"Did you like sucking my White dick?" My prisoner asked mockingly.

"Actually, I did," I replied as I stood up, "controlling you from on my knees is weirdly empowering."

I took the remote control and pressed another button, this time adjusting the seat so that my rapist-turned-prisoner was lying flat on his back with his legs apart. I then climbed over him and picked up the papers to look them over, standing so I was almost straddling him; one high-heeled boot on the floor and the other perched on the chair's metal frame, deliberately giving him a full-frontal view of my pussy.

Very good boy. He'd signed his name on everything just like I'd told him to, no defacing of the documents to make them invalid, and all the signatures matched what I knew his signature actually looked like.

"Your cunt looks so good." I heard him mutter under his breath.

"Why thank you," I replied with a smile, "I gave birth a few months ago."

"Although, it does kind of smell a bit." He added a little gratuitously.

"Oh, you're interested in the smell, are you?" I asked him, bringing my other foot down to the floor, "How about a taste, then?"

With that, I put the papers down on the table and sat on his face. I cradled his head in my hands and rocked my hips back and forth, rubbing my crotch across his mouth. His stubble was tickling my labia, but he was selfishly keeping his lips sealed.

"Oh, come on," I admonished him, "if you think you're entitled to stick your dick inside it whenever you want, I'm sure you can do the same with your tongue."

He obliged, and I felt his mouth get to work on me. His lips caressed my lower lips as his tongue probed my wet interior, wriggling about at the entrance to my vagina. A sexual tingling began to flicker in my crotch area, and I complemented his efforts by rubbing my clit against his nose. He was pretty good at this, actually. The stirrings of an orgasm were starting to build in my belly.

I stopped and dismounted his face. Dominating the man who'd dominated me was making me so fucking horny. But his mouth simply wasn't enough, I needed something inside me. Still straddling his chest, I picked up the remote again and readjusted the chair to a slightly reclining seated position. Now I was straddling his lap, with that fine rod of man-meat standing tall between my belly and his.

"You really a horny little Asian slut, aren't you?" He said as he licked his lips clean. That earned him a quick slap across the face from me.

"Careful with the race stuff," I warned him, "you can have 'bitch', you can even have 'slut' and 'whore' if you want. But if you call me 'chink' or 'gook' or 'slant' or anything like that, I'll use the Taser to make sure you can never force yourself on another woman again. Which, judging by the collection of home videos on your computer, seems to be a major pastime of yours."

He flinched when I said that.

"Heh, it's your fault for not using a password on your locked screen," I explained, idly stroking his cock with one hand whilst I pulled out a thumb drive from my boot with the other, "I even downloaded copies for insurance."

"You think you can fucking blackmail me?" He said angrily.

"Of course I do," I replied with a sultry smile, leaning in close till my lips were inches from his own, "those documents I had you sign aren't legally binding if they haven't been notarized by a lawyer, but they will give me an excuse to sue you if you renege on them. Then I can disclose all those home videos of you 'playing' with all the women you've strapped into this chair. Even if they were actually consensual encounters, your career will crumble once your clients find out what a nasty pervert you are in private."

"Fuck you, you sneaky fucking bitch! Fuck you!" He spat in a rage, thrashing in vain against the restraints. His masculine fury at being made so powerless by a female was making me unbearably hot and horny.

"'Fuck me' indeed," I replied, putting the thumb drive back inside my boot for safe keeping.

Still holding his cock in my hand, I stood up straight and angled the tip of his penis so it aligned with my opening, then carefully lowered myself onto it. I gasped as I felt him enter me, his long and sturdy shaft sliding inside me inch by sensual inch. It was a tight fit, not as tight as before giving birth, but tight nonetheless. I impaled myself on his manhood all the way up to the hilt, sitting comfortably on his crotch as I put my hands on his muscular chest to steady myself.

"By the way," I added innocently, "I'm not on the pill, so if you knock me up a second time, I'll double the amount on the direct debit form."

His eyes shot wide open and he resumed his angry and futile thrashing. I held myself steady against the chair frame and rocked my hips back and forth in response. It was hard to get a decent rhythm going with my prey bucking about like a rodeo horse, but eventually, he calmed down and I settled into a regular humping motion, working my body like a belly dancer. I was raping my rapist; how the tables had turned.

He looked so bewildered by the whole experience, too. An Asian woman, the object of his perverse racial fantasies of domination and control was riding his cock against his will, and threatening to blow an even bigger hole in his wallet if any lasting consequences should result. Part of me was kind of disappointed by that last part. You'd think a man would show at least SOME interest in his offspring, but not this man, apparently. He'd raped me and left me with the consequences of his selfish pleasure, and his biggest concern was having to pay for it.

The thought of his selfishness caused a sudden fit of anger to tinge my sexual arousal, and I slapped him across the face on a whim. The slap was hard enough to leave a red welt on his cheek, and he started hyperventilating and fuming in enraged humiliation, even as I threatened to milk his manhood for its precious seed. The pleasure was building up rapidly in my crotch and spreading slowly upward, an electric cloud buzzing in my belly as I rode his cock for everything it was worth.

I could tell he was approaching orgasm too. His teeth were clenched and his breathing was labored; he was trying desperately to hold back his cum. I flashed an evil, sexually charged grin at that. Now he had an idea of how I'd felt when he'd raped me. It had been humiliating being brought to climax by my rapist, now I could force a similar experience on to him.

I rode his cock harder and harder, determined to force him to give me the gooey goods. It was a hell of a workout as well; my abs and core were starting to burn from riding cowgirl continuously, but I had to keep going. It was a sexual contest of wills, seeing who could force the other to orgasm first. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could almost feel my rapist/victim humping back at me, rocking his crotch in sync with my own. He must be starting to enjoy this.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I mocked him, "you like having a woman turn the tables on you, don't you? You fucking rapist."

I slapped him again for good measure. Sure, this was irresponsible of me. I wasn't necessarily ready to have another baby so soon after my first newborn. But this wasn't just about the satisfaction of sexual revenge for me. My rapist was hot. The father of my baby was fucking hot. Wielding so much power over a man so much bigger and stronger than me, who had forced such life-changing consequences onto my body made my sexuality blaze like a bonfire. My cunt was calling the shots now, and all it wanted to do was milk his man-rod and fill me with his potent seed.

He was still resisting the inevitable. I could see his contorted efforts to hold back the build-up in his balls written all over his face. My pussy was no longer a traitor to my body, aiding and abetting a masculine intruder's violation of me, it was my greatest weapon against him. My queen was working his rod so damn hard, lubricating my love-tunnel with copious amounts of sexual fluid. With each rocking motion, my cunt caressed, massaged, and seduced his manhood, enticing and urging it to release its precious payload into my feminine depths. Finally, he couldn't bear to resist any longer.

He signaled his orgasm without subtlety. The pain of holding back for so long combined with the pleasure of release was given voice in the form of a bestial roar of climactic surrender. I felt his cock writhe within me like an enraged serpent imprisoned in my pussy. Then I felt it. A powerful explosion of liquid warmth in my sexual depths, one jet after another gushing into me as my former rapist involuntarily emptied his balls into his former victim.

His powerful pulses of cum inside me pushed my own pleasure dam to the breaking point, and I cried out as the ecstasy exploded inside me in tandem with his ejaculations. I dug my fingernails into the flesh of his shoulders as I fought to steady myself, keeping his cock buried to the balls inside me as my pussy pumped that precious semen into my waiting womb.

Exhausted from my unorthodox workout, I fell forward onto his chest, snuggling up against his muscular body for post-coital comfort as I floated down from the sexual high. It felt like the blissful conclusion of a steamy tryst instead of the bizarre, schizophrenically sexual payback that it actually was. I lay there for a good ten minutes as I caught my breath, but eventually, I had to go. The babysitter was expecting me back soon.

Slowly and reluctantly, I dismounted from his steadily shrinking cock. He'd cum pretty deep inside me, but some of it spilt out and dribbled down my thigh. I scooped it up with my fingers and offered it to its owner.

"Want a taste?" I asked with a smile. He jerked his head away in disgust when I brought my cum-covered fingers close to his face. "Suit yourself," I said and proceeded to lick my own fingers clean without shame. I went over to fetch my clothes.

"You can't leave me like this." He said angrily, still defiant after his humiliation.

"Actually, I could if I wanted to," I pointed out as I slipped on my panties in front of him, "but I'll unlock the restraints with the remote once I'm at the door."

Once I was dressed, I collected the papers he had signed, along with everything else I'd brought with me, and headed for the door with the remote in my hand.

"Wait." He called out.

I turned to look at him. His expression was softer now, and there was a question in his eyes, something he suddenly felt he needed to know.

"What's her name?"

His question took me by surprise. Why would a man who treated women like cum-dumpsters care about the results of his urges? He certainly hadn't seemed to care just now. I considered leaving without another word to him. I really didn't have anything else to say to him, and certainly didn't want him anywhere near me again. But somehow, I felt compelled to at least grant him this one little thing.

"Joy," I replied. Then I remotely unlocked the restraints and marched out.

***

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