Foreword
The black giant approached me slowly with the whip in his hand.
I just looked at him. I was not afraid of the pain that he would inflict on me.
I loved that pain. I felt like the queen of pain. I wanted that whip to fall on my black flesh. I wanted to feel the cuts and the bruises as I sat there, bound in the chair.
I took a deep breath and the barbed wire cut deep into my big, black tits.
I sighed with sexual enjoyment. This was the only way that I could get off. This was the way that I knew I should be treated.
The black man growled down at me with lust in his throat.
"Nigger bitch," he said.
"Yes," I murmured.
I knew just what I was.
And I tensed my body and I waited for the whip to fall. I felt the pain already, and I felt the joyous juices flowing in my cunt.
When the lash fell onto me, I sighed. The crack of that whip was the best thing in the world for me, I thought. The only thing that I could ever want.
I was the black queen of pain in the middle of that kingdom in Africa.
I was in love with that master who hurt me so well.