Africa's Ethnic Cleansing Part Eight
feuange's picture

   As I had feared, Keith changed my major from black history to theology with a minor in philosophy. Accordingly, my courses changed as well. For my first semester, I will be taking: Introduction a la Soleilianisme, Devoirs Domicile and Sexologie. I’ll be considered a full-time student as each course is worth four credits. Keith also informed me of the extracurricular activities I’ll be participating in. He tells me they’re for my Baccalaureate Core and are required for graduation.

   “You have a very bright future ahead of you Africa. A brighter future than if you had studied black history.” Keith sat in the desk chair in the dorm room assigned to me.

   I myself sat on the bed perusing the course materials. “Permission to speak Master?”

   “Permission granted slave.”

   “What exactly is ‘Introduction a la Soleilianisme?’”

   “It is a course studying the origins and beliefs of my people. In summary, it details our extraterrestrial background and traditions. Not many know this but, blue eyed, blonde haired and white skinned people are actually aliens from Sol, or the sun. You see, Earth’s magnetic field filters solar radiation down into the arctic circle where it caused genetic mutations within the human genome. This is why my people regard Sol as their Heavenly Father. One might say that we worship Him as the supreme God.” Keith bent forward and clasped his hands together as if in prayer.

   I leaned back on my hands as I listened to Keith. “What does ‘Devoir Domicile’ mean?”

   “It means ‘Domiciliary Duties’ and it is our equivalent of Home Economics. In it you will learn: interior design, apparel design, textiles and food preparation among other such things. In essence, the course teaches females how to be women. It is not necessary for you to know these things as our women perform these duties already. However, it is our policy that knowledge in this area is a reflection of form, not function.” Keith’s tone was quite matter-of-factly.

   Still leaning on my hands, I asked “And Sexologie?”

   “It is fairly self-descriptive. In it you will learn: Sexuality, Obedience, Positions and Dancing. It is necessary for you to know these things even though our women perform these as well.”

   Keith looked at me sternly. I sensed he was losing patience with every question. He still sat in the office chair, now with his chine resting upon his fist. He reminded me of ‘the Thinking Man.’

   I collapsed on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Almost afraid to ask, I said “And about the extracurricular activities. Who exactly will be my trainer?”

   “Why me of course! As your appointed donor, it wouldn’t do to have you trained by those below me. I am the best trainer on campus. I am second to none when it comes to putting theory into practice. Physical Education will consist of me fucking you and gymnastic stretching. If you know what I mean. Also, of course, slave training. During your classes, you will learn about it and after classes you will actually do it.”

   I had already known but, to crush any doubts I needed Keith to repeat himself. “Is there a special ceremony for deflowering virgins?”

   “Only for Soleilian women. The High Priest, who is the embodiment of Sol, ties the woman down and after dedicating her to Him he deflowers her. Piercing her through with his Weapon of Creation, he impregnates her too. But that is not for a lowly human. There is no value in your virginity. Yours will simply be taken from you. Now enough with your incessant questioning. Everything will be made clear to you in its time.” Keith got up from the desk chair and came over to me. Sitting down next to me on the bed, he placed his hand on my upper thigh.

   Keith’s touch sent shivers up my spine and made my hair stand on end. My skin was covered in goosebumps and I couldn’t help it.

   “I can tell you’re excited for the coming year Africa. I also know that you’re afraid that you’ll let me make you come too. I can read your mind y’know. How your body reacts to my touch; your willingness to participate in the program and live here at the ‘Lab’; Sucking my ivory white cock for Sol’s sake; Wearing my superior Soleilian DNA on your face like make-up; Drinking it to satisfy your hunger; All these things and a thousand more like them inform me of your fear. The fear I placed in you. Some call this ability of mine to observe and infer ‘Telepathy.’ It is a genetic ability I inherited from my father. It is my gift to Soleilian boys.” Keith’s hand had roamed to my inner thigh where it was warm, almost hot.

   I turned my head away from Keith and thought about this mad man. I suppose it was obvious, given my background as a black slave girl. Or was he literally claiming to be psionic? I wanted to ask him but I had been commanded to ask no more silly questions.

   Suddenly Keith’s hand cupped my purple pussy. Though I was fully clothed in y creamy white school uniform, my filthy ebony black body still jerked back from the shock of our connection and I squealed like a bitch.

   “How dare you refuse one of the Soleilians, slave!”

   Keith got up from the bed and grabbed my feet. I struggled against him as he realigned my body with the bed. He was far stronger than I and grabbing my wrists, he pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket. I heard them click shut around my wrist as he looped them around the bedframe. I was now cuffed to the bed helpless.

   “I’ll teach you better than to resist a Soleilian!”

   Keith sat in between my ebony black legs. With him there I couldn’t close my legs to him. He forced me open and with his middle finger he teased my opening. “Please, don’t! I’ve made a mistake applying to the Program! Let me give my virginity to a black boy! At least he’ll treasure it forever!”

   Keith didn’t respond to me in words. Instead, he rammed his middle finger into my body. I felt him pierce through my hymen as he robbed me of my virginity in this undignified manner. I could feel my hot blood trickling out of me, soiling my creamy white panties. His knuckles ground against my labia during his twisting and turning inside of me. Every subtle movement caused me great pain. His finger may well have been a knife.

   “Now you don’t even matter to those black boys you love so much.” I became conscious of the tears streaming down my face. “Please don’t go any further. Don’t make me come. I won’t come for a white man!”

   “Oh, but you will. I am sure you have noticed it already. It’s starting to feel good, isn’t it?” Keith’s explorations of my purple pussy became more vigorous and what he said was true. I felt the pain slowly giving way to another sensation. I couldn’t deny it to myself any longer, nor could I hide it from him. The searing hot scraping slowly melted away and became pleasurable. My purple pussy felt like it was melting around his finger. I felt every little twitch and twerk. I had become supple and pliable in response to his merciless finger. My body had become an extension of his own.

   “So, you like it rough, do you? I knew you would. Black bitches like yourself always do. Black boys are always so eager to please. Whereas white men take what they want without hesitation.”

   I was finding it hard to form any conscious thought. All I could think about was the raw strength surging within me. I began to feel all tingly down there and my body’s sweat soaked through my uniform. “Oooh,” I moaned.

   “Thatta girl,” Keith said quietly. Hi picked up his pace and the tingling sensation quickly transformed into what seemed like electrical jolts emanating from his finger. These jolts ripped through my black body. I trembled uncontrollably. Suddenly, I was aware of only his finger jammed in my purple pussy. I clamped down on him and felt every groove in his rough skin. Every tiny little movement brought me intense pleasure. My back bowed.

   It felt like an eternity but was perhaps only a few short minutes. I had come for the white man. Just like Keith said I would. The humiliation and shame of being a race traitor was so great that I kept on crying. I finally gave it up to the white man. He had even taken my virginity away from me. I was now a possession of the white man. Now, I was nothing more than an ebony black pleasure hole for my white Masters.

   “You’ll have to clean yourself up and wash your panties in the community showers and the laundry room down in the basement. It’ll be on your own time of course.” Keith withdrew his middle finger from my purple pussy and cleaned it off using my mini-skirt. He stained it with a pink frothy mess. Pulling the key to the handcuffs from his pocket, he released me from the bed frame.

   Once released, I curled up into the fetal position and mumbled “W-Why…?”

   Keith slapped me on the ass and laughed at me. “Because I can!”

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feuange's picture

Re: Africa's Ethnic Cleansing Part Eight

It certainly is. I've been experimenting with viewpoint in Africa's story and I'm still undecided as to what makes the most sense. Earlier I tried third person omnipresent but, that didn't seem capable of the psychological intensity I'm going for. Anyway, thank you for reading!

Espioi's picture

Re: Africa's Ethnic Cleansing Part Eight

Interesting. A white male author writing a black female character in first person. It has to be a challenge.

sleasentease's picture

Re: Africa's Ethnic Cleansing Part Eight

Great read thank you

feuange's picture

Re: Africa's Ethnic Cleansing Part Eight

This blog is intended for entertainment purposes only and the views expressed herein do not reflect those of the author's.

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