What
Have You Gotten Yourself Into?
By
Stone
Heather laughed as she watched her Negro
opponent lay on the floor writhing
in
agony. Jacqueline had no idea that this
was going to be such a violent
party. “This white bitch is tough, I don’t know how
I’m gonna beat her,”
she
thought to herself. This whole scene
started about half a year ago when
she was
called into the boss’s office. Mr.
Franco was the CEO of a big
advertising
firm and Jacqueline was in charge of the internet division. She
had
been falling behind with several of their online clients filing for
bankruptcy
and she hoped this private meeting wasn’t to discuss her
termination. Franco had a big office, as to be expected
for the boss. He
had
been renown for big game hunting in Africa and the jungles of South
America,
often bringing home trophies.
Jacqueline’s face curled in disgust
as she
saw a large rhino head adorning the wall above Franco’s desk. There
was a
bearskin rug—authentic she was sure—on the floor and other stuffed
animals
on pedestals around the office.
He looked up and greeted Jacqueline,
asking her to sit down. She felt like
a
little child as she had to jump up to get into the large leather chair,
she was
only 5’5” and 135lbs, but still felt awkward as her feet hung over
the
front, dangling above the floor. He put
down his papers and pushed a
button
on the phone, “Marie…hold my calls.”
His secretary’s voice responded
a
moment later with an affirmative.
Franco folded his hands and sat back in
his
chair, admiring Jacqueline. For a woman
in her mid-twenties, Jacqueline
was
very attractive. She had coal black
skin and had a very slim figure.
She had
a firm pair of 40D breasts and strong legs.
She often worked out
and
kept in shape. Her hair was dyed blonde
and was cut short, only coming
down a
little past her ears.
Franco kept eyeing her luscious body,
today she tried to dress up by
wearing
a low cut demure blouse beneath a sport coat and a short skirt that
matched
her dark top. Her nails were long and
manicured; she often had them
styled
at least once a week. She wore a lot of
makeup today, outlining her
full
lips with liner and purple lipstick.
She left her glasses at home and
wore
her contacts, which made her look like she had cat eyes. She still
couldn’t
help but shake as Franco leaned forward; she was completely
intimidated
by this man that only a year ago was almost like a father to
her. In the new job market, it was hard to find
work and she was deathly
afraid
of being unemployed.
“Don’t be nervous, Jackie,” Franco finally
spoke up in his deep, booming
voice. She felt at ease and crossed her legs while
she watched Franco stare
at her
sexy body. When she first met Franco,
Jacqueline felt a lustful
feeling
within herself for the fifty-something gentleman. She was never
attracted
to older men much, but he had an attitude of nobility about him
that
just seemed to ooze confidence and power.
In her first six months
working
at Diagnostic Advertising, she had to give regular briefings to Mr.
Franco
in person. She tried to dress her
sexiest at every meeting,
hopefully
trying to encourage just a gesture or look.
Jacqueline now felt
rewarded
as she leaned over a little, to pull the hem of her skirt up, and
watched
Franco eye her bountiful chest.
This posturing and quiet flirtation went
on for several minutes before
Franco
finally got up and walked to the window.
Jacqueline noticed a rather
large
bulge in his custom made trousers and smiled gleefully. She got up
and
walked over to Franco as he stood staring out at the city beneath him.
She
pressed her large breasts into his back and when he turned around they
both
kissed each other deeply. They each
expressed a deep love for the
other
and finally ended up having hours of vigorous sex on his Italian
leather
sofa. It turned out that he had called
Jacqueline in to confess his
love
for her but was worried about how she would react to her boss, an old
man,
telling his hot young employee that he often fantasized about her
daily. Jacqueline stated that she felt the same
feelings and that she had
no
problem dating a “mature man.”
For months afterwards, Giovanni, as he
told Jacqueline to address him by
his
first name—sometimes she call him her “Con-kiss-tador”—they held the
secret
affair. They both knew it was improper,
since he was her boss, but
they
could not help to differ their passion for each other. One morning
Jacqueline
got a call from Giovanni’s secretary telling her that she was to
attend
a ball with Mr. Franco that night.
Jacqueline couldn’t believe it;
she had
gone to several countries with Giovanni in his private jet and had
spent
many nights with him at one party or another, but he always attended
social
gatherings with his wife when he was in the states. Marie told
Jacqueline
that a limo would be picking her up from her apartment in about
half an
hour and taking her out to shop for a dress and makeover for the
ball
later. Jacqueline hung up the phone
absolutely giddy; she loved when
Giovanni
bought her expensive clothing and jewelry.
Usually she loved the
thrill
of making love to Franco because she knew it was cheating, but if he
was
willing to risk exposing her to his social circle in the United States
than he
must finally wish to stop all the hiding and pronounce his love for
her.
She got into the shower, paying special attention
to her large dark
breasts,
soaping them thoroughly; taking time to tweak her brown nipples.
She
started fantasizing about dancing around with Giovanni’s strong body in
her
arms while everyone watched them. She
pictured an elegant ballroom with
crowds
of the rich and elite waltzing around them.
Jacqueline then imagined
her
night dancing and drinking, being introduced to her lover’s wealthy
friends
and making intelligent conversation with world leaders. Her hand
started
slowly crept down her taut stomach, sliding in between her legs.
Jacqueline
gasped as her fingers brushed across her clit, sending shockwaves
through
her body. She slipped her index finger
into her bushy cunt, moaning
as she
eased the digit in. The shower had nothing
to do with how wet she
was;
she added her middle finger and started pumping them in and out while
squeezing
her nipples, fantasizing about riding her “Con-kiss-tador.”
It didn’t take long for Jacqueline to push
herself towards a delicious
orgasm. She licked her fingers than finished washing
herself. She had just
gotten
dressed when she heard the buzzer. She
clicked the button and the
doorman
told her that there was a limo waiting downstairs for her.
Jacqueline
grabbed her purse and keys before running out the door and
jumping
into the elevator. She had never ridden
in a limo before and
grinned
as the driver opened the door for her and she slipped inside. It
had a
TV and fax machine inside, along with cushy leather seats, which made
that
delightful sound when she rubbed against it.
She asked the driver
where
they were going and he told her it was a secret. The car stopped in
front
of a large building with fancy dresses in the window, Jacqueline
thought
they looked a lot like prom gowns, but they looked a lot more
expensive
and sexy.
She was ushered in and immediately
surrounded by retail women. The lead
one, an
elderly woman with gray hair, told Jacqueline that Mr. Franco had
given
them orders to dress her up for a big party that night and to charge
it to
his account. She clapped her hands and
Jacqueline was whisked away
and
spent several hours getting measured and trying on nearly hundreds of
outfits. After finally finding the perfect ensemble,
and spending nearly
six
hours in the store, she was given her dress in a box, along with the
other
accessories, and told to take care of it.
Afterwards Edward, the
driver,
took Jacqueline to the most elaborate beauty parlor where she had
her
eyes plucked, a mud bath, her nails done; a complete makeover. By the
time
she was brought back to her apartment, Jacqueline felt dizzy. After
flying
around the whole day she felt like a princess, Edward told her she
had to
get dressed so he could take her to the party; it was already well
past 9
pm. She flew upstairs and entered her
apartment.
Jacqueline carefully opened the box she
had been given earlier that day and
took
special care with the delicate material.
She removed all of her
clothing
and stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom. She
looked
absolutely sexy, her hair had been dyed a brighter shade, making her
look
almost like a genuine blonde—something similar to Lil’ Kim’s—and her
face
had been adorned with designer makeup so that it wouldn’t smudge or
smear. Her hair had been styled so that she had
bangs in the front,
reaching
just above her beautiful yellow cat eyes; her eyebrows had been
penciled
in and made her look evil, she smiled at herself. Her lips looked
luscious
and full, they were burgundy to match her dress.
She rubbed her hands down her body, across
her firm breasts and tight
stomach
to her shapely ass and muscular legs.
Jacqueline went into the box
and
pulled out the red velvet bra and panties she had been given, sliding
them on
slowly, enjoying the feel of the ultra soft material against her
skin. Next she put on the garter belt, attaching
it around her waist. She
never
wore these much before but the women at the dress shop recommended it
and
Jacqueline thought it was best to follow their advice. She pulled on
the
white silk stockings she had been given, to make her dark legs look
slim,
not that she needed such cosmetic devices; she jogged a lot and worked
out to
maintain her figure. The dress that
been selected for her was a
short
red dress. It was frilled at the top,
but cut low enough to expose a
lot of
her bust. It was a tight strapless
number that clung nicely to her
body. It was short, stopped about a couple of
inches below her ass. She
did not
need any straps since her substantial chest held it up with the
support
from the push-up bra. The back was
laced so that the whole dress
served
as a bustier, giving her that cultivated hourglass figure.
It was dark red and she felt absolutely
drop dead sexy. The bra was made
so it
was also without straps, locking around behind her back similar to a
tube
top. She marveled at how sexy she
looked, cooing, as she felt up her
body in
the formfitting dress, it was made from fine Oriental silk.
Jacqueline
felt like a million bucks. She came
down, after covering herself
in a
white silk wrap, and Edward nearly fell over himself to open the door
for
Jacqueline when he saw her. “To the
party, ma’am?” Edward asked, while
he
started the car. Jacqueline nodded and
they sped off.
Close to an hour later, the limo stopped
in front of a rather large hotel.
Edward
got out and told Jacqueline he would be by in the morning to pick her
up. “Why,” she asked, confused. “My orders are that you would be spending
the
night and would not need my assistance.
The party is waiting for you in
the
penthouse suite on the top floor. The
hotel concierge will greet you
inside
and he will take you up there personally.
Have a wonderful evening
miss.” With that Edward got into the limo and
pulled off. Jacqueline got a
creepy
feeling in the pit of her stomach; she wondered what all the secrecy
was
about.
Like Edward predicted, a man with a funny
moustache met her as soon as she
walked
in. He seemed friendly enough but she
couldn’t shake the feeling
that
something insidious was about to happen.
The weird looking fellow said
his
name was Jacobs and escorted Jacqueline to a private elevator. They got
inside
and he used a key he extracted from his pocket to start the elevator.
Apparently it was special access to get into
the penthouse. There was a
red
phone on the wall that he picked up after they were underway. He
quietly
said, “She’s on her way up.” Then there
was a pause and he was
nodded,
“I understand.” After he hung up,
Jacobs stood there staring at the
screen
that counted up the number of floors.
The whole ride up Jacobs was
silent,
he was a tall enough man with short hair, balding on the front, and
had a
horrible French accent. He was dressed
in an old fashioned tuxedo
complete
with tails; Jacqueline had to restrain herself from laughing at how
much of
a stereotype he seemed. But the silence
only served to frighten her
more. He turned around and flashed Jacqueline a
cold, empty smile. It did
nothing
to dissuade her fear.
When they reached the top, after what
seemed like eternity, Jacobs grasped
Jacqueline
by her bare arm and seemed to drag her out of the elevator.
Jacqueline
got a little upset at being manhandled by this flunky. Jacobs
pulled
out his key ring again and unlocked the door.
He all but threw
Jacqueline
into the room telling her to have a good evening before slamming
the door
and locking it behind him. Jacqueline
looked around at the posh
suite. A lot of modern design mixed with Roman
architecture, with columns
and
arches everywhere. There were white
upholstered couches pushed against
the
wall leaving a big gap in the middle of the room. The entire floor was
covered
with a dense white shag carpet. The
living room seemed bigger than
Jacqueline’s
entire apartment. She heard a noise
from around the corner;
curious
she started to walk towards the sound.
Jacqueline thought it might
be the
party in another room but was surprised when she saw a redheaded
woman
in a slinky black dress standing at the bar mixing a drink.
“Oh, I’m glad you got here, honey,” the
woman said, with a heavy southern
accent. Jacqueline stared at the woman
incredulously. Who was she? Why
was she
in here dressed like that? Where was
Giovanni? But before she
could
get an answer to any of these questions, the woman slammed her drink
on the
counter and walked up to Jacqueline and slapped her. Jacqueline
stood
there, rubbing her cheek, as the woman walked past her and into the
living
room, leaning up against a column.
“Let me tell you what’s goin’ on, bitch,”
the redheaded woman said. “My
name is
Heather and I’m Franco’s wife. I’ve
known about you for a long
time. I didn’t mind so much because he often takes
in little sluts like you
for a
little thrill now and then. You see he
does this every few years; he
meets a
woman and has an affair. Usually he
dumps them but sometimes he
becomes
enraptured with them. God knows why,
they’re usually just some
sluts
he has working for him. You see I used
to be Giovanni’s secretary a
few
years ago when we started seeing each other.
His wife at that time
found
out and I did what you’re about to do.
When Giovanni likes you, as
your
black ass well knows, he spends lots of money on you; buys you cars and
maybe
even a house. But after awhile be
begins to think he’s falling in
love
again—he’s a silly old fool but he has money and is a wonderful lay as
I’m
sure you know—and might try to wed you.
However once his wife at the
time
found out he was sleeping with me she called me out to this apartment
to
battle it out for him. You see, honey,
all the deception, the limo
picking
you up, getting that nice dress you have there, has all been a set
up so I
could lure you here. It’s been done for
many years. This is what
has
been called ‘the dance for Giovanni.’
He pits the wives against his
steady
girlfriends and the winner gets this,” she said, holding up the hand
displaying
a huge diamond wedding ring. “I beat
his bitch wife three years
ago and
I have done so with two of his sluts, and now it looks like it’s
your
turn. So you got two choices, you big
titted whore, you can walk out
that
door, hail yourself a cab, and never see my man again. Or we can do
this
the hard way, that’s me beating the black off you and making you my
slave
like your ancestors before you.”
Jacqueline was enraged, how could this
small little woman think she could
beat
her. It was true; Heather was about
5’3” and had about a small B cup.
Her
long red hair cascaded down her back, stopping just above her pert ass.
She was
wearing a very slinky black dress, almost like it was lingerie, with
slits
up the side and black stockings. Both
women were in high heels but
with a
nod from Jacqueline they each took them off and kicked the shoes off
to the
side.
“Only one of us is gonna be walkin’ outta
here, slut,” Heather growled at
her
opponent. “It ain’t gonna be me, you
old ho,” the black mistress
retorted. Heather screamed and ran at Jacqueline. They bodies crashed
together
and fell on the floor in a heap. They
rolled around, screaming
obscenities
at each other until Heather came to rest on top. She wrapped
her
hands around Jacqueline’s throat and tried to choke the black woman.
Jacqueline
grabbed Heather by her hair and yanked on the redhead’s long
locks. Heather shrieked and tried to pry
Jacqueline’s hand loose of her
hair. The black woman bucked the smaller girl off
her and quickly jumped to
her
feet. Heather had not recovered in time
and was soon being dragged
around
the apartment suite by her long red hair.
She screamed and scratched
at
Jacqueline’s wrists with her sharp red nails.
Jacqueline tripped and fell, losing her
grip on Heather, but had clumps of
the
older woman’s hair in her hands. Both
women were soon on their knees
ripping
at each other’s hair. For Heather it
was hard since Jacqueline’s
short
blonde hair was smooth and not quite as long.
In desperation however,
she
tore open the front of Jacqueline’s dress, exposing her bra. Jacqueline
was
yanking on Heather’s hair again when she felt the older woman’s nails
digging
through the red velvety material of her top into her breasts.
Jacqueline
cried out as Heather pulled down her bra and twisted her dark
orbs. Jacqueline screamed as the white woman
switched to pulling the
nipples
off her big black tits.
Jacqueline grit her teeth as Heather
continued her assault; she slapped
away
the smaller woman’s hands away and drove a right cross into Heather’s
smaller
tits. The redhead gasped in shock but
returned the favor by giving
Jacqueline’s
exposed breasts a stiff uppercut. She
winced and grabbed a
firm
hold of Heather’s right mammary, crushing it through her black dress.
Heather
screamed and soon both her breasts were now under attack, being
crushed
beneath the black girl’s strong grasp.
She tried to back peddle but
Jacqueline
crawled after Heather on her knees.
Heather fell backwards but
because
Jacqueline had such a firm grip she tore away the front of her black
dress,
exposing a lacy black bra. Jacqueline
smiled as she watched
Heather’s
eyes go wide in embarrassment.
“Who the fuck are you smilin’ at, bitch?”
the white woman hissed and
pounced
on Jacqueline like a cat. Jackie was
able to grab two handfuls of
red
hair but not before Heather sank her teeth into the black woman’s
exposed
left breast. She screamed like a
banshee as Heather now bit down
hard on
her nipple, whipping her head side-to-side, like a pit bull.
Jacqueline
wrapped her strong legs around Heather’s waist and squeezed.
This
stopped the hellcat from destroying Jacqueline’s firm tit and Heather
moaned
as her side was crushed under the black woman’s vice like grip.
Jacqueline used her advantage and ripped
off Heather’s bra. The redhead
was
scratching at Jacqueline’s white stockings, trying to pry herself loose.
Jacqueline responded by squeezing tighter;
she now started to twist
Heather’s
pink erect nipples. In desperation, the
white woman slipped a
hand
inside Jacqueline’s red panties and clawed at her hairy cunt.
Jacqueline
quickly unlocked her ankles and rolled away on the floor, both
her
hand between her thighs, rubbing the burning sensation from her pussy.
Heather
got an evil grin on her face, but it was quickly replaced by a
grimace
of pain as she tried to breathe. Both
fighters had taken their toll
but it
was Heather who recovered first, stalking over to where Jacqueline
lay and
ripped off the remnants of her expensive dress. She didn’t put up
any
resistance and was now lying on the floor in only her stockings, garter,
and
panties.
She couldn’t resist stomping on the black
girl’s prone belly. Jacqueline
clutched
her gut, moaning, while the petite redhead drove her foot into
Jacqueline’s
stomach a few more times. Heather
laughed as she watched her
Negro
opponent lay on the floor writhing in agony.
Jacqueline had no idea
that
this was going to be such a violent party.
“This white bitch is tough,
I don’t
know how I’m gonna beat her,” she thought to herself. Heather
grabbed
a handful of Jacqueline ‘s short wiry pubic hairs and started
balding
the black woman’s pussy. Her screamed
but was only rewarded with a
vicious
backhand slap. She pulled Jacqueline up
into a sitting position and
yanking
Jacqueline’s head back by her blonde hair.
“And now the pain
begins,
you man-stealing, black bitch,” Heather hissed into Jacqueline’s
ear.
Jacqueline’s face twisted into an angry sneer as she spat into
Heather’s
face. The white girl was temporarily blinded and
that gave Jacqueline the
opportunity
she needed. She drove her right hand up
between Heather’s legs
with
all her might, her knuckles impacting right on the white girl’s clit.
The
redhead cried out and fell like a tree, biting her lip trying to hold
back
her tears. Jacqueline tore the rest of
Heather’s dress off while she
lay on
her back moaning. She was able to rip
off Heather’s panties, leaving
her
nearly nude, save for the garter and black stockings. Jacqueline hauls
Heather
to her feet and picks the petite woman up above her head, in an
amazing
display of strength, and slams the white girl down across her knee,
in a
devastating backbreaker. Jacqueline
bends the smaller woman in two as
Heather’s
screams echo throughout the spacious apartment.
Jacqueline grabbed a breast in one hand
and dug her nails into Heather’s
red
beaver as she tried to snap the bitchy woman in half. She cried out as
the
black woman’s nails mauled her tit and pussy, while the fiery pain
radiated
across her spine. Jacqueline, finally
growing bored with Heather’s
screams,
dropped her onto the floor. She
straddled Heather’s small waist
and
planted her big tits over the redhead’s face, smothering her. Heather’s
screams
were finally muffled beneath the mountain of black flesh that
restricted
her breathing. Her arms flailed until
she was finally able to
grab a
hold of Jacqueline’s blonde hair. It
was Jacqueline’s turn to shriek
as
Heather tore handfuls of hair out of the black girl’s head. Jacqueline
sat up
to try and escape Heather’s grasp. In
doing so however she exposed
her
mounds that made for more ample targets.
The smaller woman’s sharp nails were
savagely shredding Jacqueline’s tits.
All she
could do was scream as her sensitive mammaries were mauled. Finally
both
fighters collapsed onto the carpet, Jacqueline caressing her breasts
and
Heather trying to gasp for air. The way
their bodies were strewn across
the
floor had both them both spread eagled, legs lying across each other.
Heather
propped herself up on her hands, still sucking in ragged gasps of
air. Jacqueline sat up and they each looked into
the other’s eyes with
nothing
but pure hatred for each other.
Finally Heather, in a deep voice, all
traces of her accent gone, growled,
“I’m
gonna prove I’m better than you, bitch.
I know my pussy is better than
that
loose ghetto cunt you have. My Giovanni
likes slumming occasionally.
I will
defeat you with my pussy and then ride your face until I cum. Then
you’re
gonna be my slave, you fuckin’ nigger whore!”
Jacqueline and Heather
started
simultaneously to ram their pussies into each other. At first it
was a
rough pounding action then they slowed down and started to grind them
together,
Heather’s hairy red twat glistened with her wetness while
Jacqueline
had begun moaning. Their clits dueled,
rubbing up against the
other;
their sighs of ecstasy now filled the room.
“Oh God, you black dyke, that feels so
good,” Heather moaned, as she
fiercely
humped her archrival. Jacqueline’s
mouth was agape, she could
utter
only moans; she was on the brink and didn’t want to lose to this white
bitch. “Fuck me, you hood rat; I’m gonna show you
why my pussy is the
best,”
Heather continued to trash talk. It was
Jacqueline’s clit that
slipped
between Heather’s pink cunt lips and turned the tide of the fight.
The
redhead thrashed on the floor, fucking the black woman’s pussy with wild
abandon. Heather knew she was about to cum but was
determined not to lose
to her
husband’s latest slut. She reached
forward and raked her nails
across
Jacqueline’s cunt. The black woman
screamed as the bitch jammed her
fingers
inside Jacqueline’s twat and raked her sharp red nails throughout
the
sensitive walls of her pussy.
Jacqueline was screaming and had her hands
wrapped around Heather’s wrist,
trying
to extract the white woman’s claws from her hot wet twat. She
released
her death grip on Jacqueline and quickly straddled her nemesis.
Heather
planed her ass down on Jacqueline in a reverse facesit. She resumed
her
wicked attack on the black woman’s injured sex. She alternated between
mauling
Jacqueline’s tits, smashing them flat with her stiff punches—making
sure to
dig her sharp diamond ring deep into her black flesh—and trying to
rip her
cunt open like a bag of chips, locking her nails on the inside of
her
pussy lips. She finally demanded
Jacqueline to submit and the black
girl
was frantically nodding under the white girl’s pert ass, slapping the
floor
to signal her surrender.
“I’m only gonna stop when you eat me, ya’
slutty black dyke! You’re my
slave
now, nigger, so your first duty is to use that tongue that was always
suckin’
on my man’s dick and shove it up my pussy!”
Jacqueline was crying;
she
could barely breathe with her nose up Heather’s ass. With no other
resort,
she started to lick and suck on the white woman’s pussy. The petite
redhead
was moaning and bucking her hips, grinding her crotch on
Jacqueline’s
face.
She now
switched to squeezing the black woman’s big tits hard, twisting them
from
side to side. Heather was bouncing her
ass up and down on Jacqueline’s
face,
screaming for her to lick her deeper.
It wasn’t long until Heather
froze
and a long low guttural groan that started in the pit of her stomach
came
roaring out of her mouth as she experienced the most electrifying
orgasm
she ever felt. She sat upon
Jacqueline’s face for several more
minutes,
the black girl continued to lick her white mistress’s cunt for fear
of more
pain. Heather got up and stood over
Jacqueline who was lying on the
floor,
her face covered in dried tears and Heather’s juices. She pointed
down at
Jacqueline and matter-of-factly explained that Jacqueline was now
her
property.
“You do
not my husband, you understand me, cunt?
Your new job is gonna be
as my
slave, you understand me? You’re my
property now. I will keep you in
small
chamber next to my bedroom where you will service me whenever I wish
it, and
sometimes Giovanni as well, I know he likes fucking you in that big
black
ass of yours.”
Jacqueline
was crying, tears streaming down her cheeks; Heather showed no
compassion
and demanded her to answer. Jacqueline
nodded but Heather
viciously
slapped her. “You will address me as
‘Yes Mistress,’ you
understand
that, slave?” Jacqueline was sobbing
and managed to whisper,
“Yes
Mistress.” Heather slapped her again,
telling Jacqueline she couldn’t
hear
her. The black girl had been dominated
and was being forced to consent
to a
life of eating pussy and getting reamed by the white woman and her
husband,
not counting whatever else she had planned.
She
begrudgingly shouted out, “Yes Mistress!”
“Good
girl,” Heather cooed, as her hand gently rubbed the spot she had been
slapping
on Jacqueline’s cheek. “Now get in the
bedroom, you’ve got a long
night
ahead of you.” Jacqueline was too
afraid of the smaller white woman
and
started to get to her feet when Heather kicked Jacqueline in her big
tits. She fell to the floor holding her injured
breasts. Heather laughed
commanded
Jacqueline to crawl. “Your head will
never be higher than mine.
I am
your queen, you black bitch, remember that; and your face is my throne,
so you
better worship me.”
Jacqueline
got on all fours and crawled like a dog into the large bedroom
where
she was put through the most horrible torture of physical abuse and
mental
cruelty she ever experienced. When
morning came, Heather order
Jacqueline
to get dressed and told her that the car was waiting downstairs
to take
her back to Giovanni’s mansion. She was
to follow the butler’s
orders
and dress in the outfit Heather had selected for her to wear.
Jacqueline
cried the whole drive as she rode in the back of the limo; Edward
paid no
attention to her tears, strictly following his Mistress’s orders.
He
understood her pain because he too lost a similar battle to Mr. Franco’s
sinister
wife. But that is a different story.