Shalla watched her over the top of his glass. He could see the
slight hesitation as she reached to take the tea he offered. The
sudden recognition, though silent, that he knew her better than she
thought was also apparent flickering through her eyes. He savored
the slight tinge of fear that he could see building up. He knew he
had surprised her and that she hadn't expected him to be so bold. It
was good to have this power that he had so recently gained by
fucking that French lady half to death last night. He had been made
to squirm so much during
his life and now it was going to be a pleasure paying it all back It
was particularly satisfying taking it out on the haves, like this
bitch that had never known the depths of humiliation before. Well,
it was his turn to do the humiliating! He had a score to settle with
the world and he had begun last night. He was through being a mat
for others to trample on to quench their need for superiority. He
would now do the trampling.
 "Didn't I tell you to greet your master in a proper manner, you
worthless piece of white shit?" She slapped her slave so hard he
almost fell over. "Yes, my Queen!" He lay down flat on the icy cold
marble floor, allowing her to step on him. She put her right foot on
his back, then the left. Under the weight of her 170 pounds, the
miserable man moaned in pain, unable to do anything about it.
After a brutal, ten minute long trampling-session, he felt as if he
had been run over by a steam-roller. He could hardly move his body.
"What's wrong, whitey? You hurting", she asked in a sarcastic voice.
"Have I got some good news for you!", she continued. "This time,
foot worship I will give you an
option. God, I just Love to trample a worthless white pig! I can go
on and on all day long. But being such a loving and caring Queen,
I'm gonna let you choose... between trampling and ass licking. Well,
what will it be, whitey?"
Cassandra hit him on the side of
the head with the back of her hand: "Now, get down to it, or I'll
rip your heart out!"
So, he left his trained asslicking-etiquette aside, and started
sucking her shiny, black asshole like a human vacuum cleaner. Then,
at the Queen's command, he stuck his tongue inside her, and fought
an uneven struggle with her muscular, inner walls, eager to avoid
another trampling. When she felt him cleaning her inside,
further up than she thought possible, she sensed that power again.
The sweetest sensation on earth. The power to lay down and enjoy
herself, with a white man's tongue up her ass. Black power! Seconds
later, she had a long and terrific orgasm, the muscular strength of
her anus almost ripping his tongue out.
Stephan never mentioned his mother or his half-fairyhood to
Phyllis. He was concerned that it would frighten her. But he
wondered off and on if Phyllis would notice that she was aging much
faster than he. But, after several years of nervousness, he
mentioned her to Iolanthe. He was still visiting her every week.
Iolanthe was disturbed and perturbed at the presence of the peers,
Stephan knew. When they visited the creak, the peers were all over
the place, trampling the ground, digging things up, leaving litter
behind, and so forth.
After considerable discussion, the wedding was planned and Stephan
went to town to petition the Chancellor's representative. To his
surprise, three peers were there. The eldest and obviously superior
one introduced himself as the Lord Chancellor, and the other two
were high-ranking members of the House of Peers. Stephan shuddered
to be in their presence, and thanked himself for having the presence
of mind to generate himself a real suit with waistcoat. |
