Club Obedience

"Have you heard of the club Obedience?"

Cynthia smiled at Lailah, the soft light from the surrounding bar making her deep brown skin glisten in the semi-darkness.

"Eh.. no," Lailah replied. "What is it?"

"A dream came true. It is a place where white women go to be sexually dominated by black folks, men as well as women."

Lailah said nothing at first, thinking she was pulling her leg.

Then, "say again?"

She said it again.

Lailah didn't deny it, she was filled with images of white bodies being ruled over by black bodies in the strictest manner. Cynthia probably saw it in Lailah's face, and she looked very pleased with herself.

"It sounds right up my alley.. sorry, our alley, but.. why isn't the media covering this rather radical expression of what we all want?"

"It's sorta underground at the moment, and it's been active for less than six months, but believe me, when the media DO get the wind of it, it will make waves!!"

Lailah sipped her wine, looking at Cynthia. They had been close ever since they met in Spain the year before, going to a bullfight, and loving every second of it. They shared experiences and thoughts, and both sought the eroticism of the corrida, something for which they deeply respected each other. Cynthia knew of Lailah's ultimate fantasy, making love to a black matador just after his kill, and she agreed, yes, it was exquisitely erotic, but she prefered a black woman.

And now.. this.

"Wanna go?"

"When?"

"How about right now?"

Lailah was taken aback, but felt a wave of heat go through her body.

"Actually it is only a couple of blocks from here. Walking distance."

"You.. you've been?"

"Oh yes!"

The tone of her voice told Lailah everything, the experience of something truly special, and she straightened her tall back, looking magnificent with her close cropped hair, and features to die for, so full of character! She was in her late 40s, experienced and mature, and lovely to behold.

"How many white bitches have you dominated?"

Lailah put as much feeling as she could into her voice.

"Many. But not nearly enough."

Lailah stood up.

"Let's go."

*

Lailah recognized the place immediately. It used to be a restaurant, she had been there several times, but it had gone bankrupt, and had now apparently been taken over by a black couple on a mission. The place had been transformed into a bar, with the rest of the former space converted into smaller rooms, into which visitors could enter to.. explore.. interesting relations.

It was Friday night, half past eight, and the place was filled with black couples mingling with white women, mostly between the ages of 40 and 50 by the look of it, which suggested people knowing what they were getting themselves into. And as much as Lailah also liked to dominate younger women, forcing them to express respect for her own experience, she mostly liked her sexpartners of equal age. She was deeply attracted to maturity herself. Nothing is sexier or hotter than a black, experienced woman!

Cynthia recognized several of the customers, and she introduced them to Lailah. It was clear that they had all come for the same purpose.

Lailah suddenly spotted a younger woman, in her 30s, blonde wavy hair falling down an exposed back, strong and straight, and Lailah wanted to bend that back, force it into submission. And when their eyes met (god, her face was exquisite) both knew what the night had in store for them. Their mutual desire was almost palpable.

"Fancy her, do you?" Cynthia waved the younger woman to us, and the woman obeyed.

Of course.

"You know her?"

"Yes. Name is Linda. Very submissive, but often needs some force, as she sometimes pretends to resist me. We both love the struggle of wills. I always win, of course."

Smiling.

"You've been with her."

"Oh yes."

Lailah's nipples tingled and her lower parts grew hot.

Linda came up to them, her evening dress showing a strong body.

"Cynthia," she said respectfully, voice deep and husky, "so very nice to see you again. You've been missed."

She took Cynthia's hand and kissed it.

"Who is your lovely companion?"

There, respect from the start. The evening would unfold in the best way possible.

They were introduced, and she did the same to Lailah, lips soft and moist and warm.

"Lailah is new here, but knows the drill."

"Then I hope you will find your visit.. fulfilling, Ma'am. We are all here to.. serve."

That hesitation, so filled with promise!

Linda flared her nostrils, giving her face a somewhat regal air.

Lailah could hardly wait to see her on the floor, expressing raw, naked respect!

*

After a few more drinks it became obvious that Linda was deeply into erotic submission, she felt that it represented both a socio-political statement and a deeply felt personal committment to the deepest possible pleasure, for both herself and her Masters. Her every gesture, the tone of voice, and a willingness to serve and please, told the story of a white woman who'd do anything to show respect to what she, and many others, saw as her Masters.

Lailah listened to all this with growing passion in her bosom, nipples hard and tingling at the sight and sound of this attractive white bitch finally realizing her place in the world. She looked forward to serving in every way she could, and might we now be ready to enter room #7?

Cynthia and Lailah followed her into a rather small, but nicely furnished room, where a double-bed and soft, indirect light, kinda rose-colored, spoke of things to come.

The door was shut and total quiet stole into the room. No one would hear us, no one would bother us, all there was was two black women and one white woman, ready to explore new power dynamics.

As we hung up our jackets on hooks, Cynthia issued a command, softly but strict.

"On your knees, white woman."

Linda obeyed immediately, face filled with a silent ecstacy.

Cynthia circled the white woman and pulled hair a little, teasingly. Lailah felt in the presence of a black goddess, and knew that there were actually two such present. That insight filled her with pride stronger than any she'd felt before.

"Undress," Cynthia commanded, a little harsher. "Show your white body to us."

Linda closed her eyes and bent her head a little back, as her upper garment fell to the floor. Two generous breasts were exposed and she was magnificent to see, perfect to dominate. Arousal gripped all and became almost like a fourth person in the room.

"Now the rest, bitch. Don't dare to hide anything from me. On your back!"

Cynthia's nostrils flared aggressively.

Linda was on the floor (actually a soft brown mat covering the entire floor) and liberated herself from the remaining garments, slowly, teasingly, as ordered by a magnificent Cynthia. And there finally she was, an attractive naked white woman waiting to be explored.

Cynthia looked at Lailah, smiling in triumph, a smile saying "now everything is permitted," and began to undress, as did Lailah. Soon there stood two glorious black naked women, towering above a white bitch, knowing her role was simply to do whatever they commanded.

Cynthia placed her left foot between Linda's breasts, as a gesture of what was to come. The white body arched into a delicious bridge of submission, and Lailah's breath came quickly now. Lailah was not a newcomer to female sex, but there was something truly unique about this night, a charge unlike any she had experienced before. The presence of Cynthia, of course. What two women can do to a third is almost without limits.

"What do you feel?"

"Respect!" A gasp.

"What will you do?"

"Obey."

"And?"

"And respect."

"What is the most glorious thing in life?"

"To serve and be submissive."

"True, but that was not the answer I wanted. Once more!"

Linda flared her nostrils and looked at Lailah, ecstasy between them.

"A proud black woman, dominating a white submissive one."

"Damn right."

Cynthia then straddled Linda's face and exposed the white woman to a level of dominance that Lailah hoped would become standard in the future. Lailah pressed her genitals against Linda's, and pressed hard, feeling her moist heat like a kiss. Lailah let loose a small cry of pleasure, Cynthia had closed her eyes as she rocked to and fro over Linda, once more knowing her right place, the sight glorious and unlike any Lailah had seen before.

And in that glorious formation they found themselves fulfilled, the future set, and Cynthia became the first to come, her cry of triumph like a sharp stab from a matador; she kept straddling however, hands now filled with Linda's breasts, nipples hard and erect. Cynthia looked wild and unhinged, almost cruel, Lailah had never seen her like that, but it aroused her and soon an orgasm shook Lailah to the core, and Linda's muffled roar spoke of her ecstasy, too. Lailah kept pressing and as orgasm after orgasm took hold of them, they fled into a realm of total, almost inhuman joy.

And the white bitch knew her place and kept on kissing Cynthia's rose, her submissive obedience absolute!

*

After they had come down from this, and rested a bit, a new game took over. In this Cynthia and Lailah gave Linda sexual commands about how to move, to masturbate, to grovel and kiss their bodies, to repeat mantras like "black is essential," "a black word is a command," "respect is everything," and "white power is over," which turned her on. Her orgasms were many and strong, and she went down on her back again and again, arching beneath their respective turns straddling her, dominating.

After two hours of this they all felt drained and satisfied, knowing that Linda's obediance was real and not just part of some erotic role-playing. She knew, felt, and wanted this to become an everyday reality.

Lailah asked her how she felt about bullfighting. Clearly she didn't like it, but realizing that we did, she promised to accompany us to Spain the following year, exposing herself to its mysteries, as an act of respect for them.

Lailah looked forward to it, breaking down her resistance and finally accepting that, too, as part of a new world of black rule and majesty.

And that was the beginning of a strange and wonderful triad.