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My name is Karina Jade Ambrose. A big and tall, red-haired and green-eyed Irishwoman living in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts. I’m a truck driver by trade. I didn’t go to business school like so many of those highly educated people who find themselves unemployed these days and are praying for a government-issued Bailout. I went to Brockton Community College and earned myself an associate’s degree in the field of psychology, of all things. After graduation, I decided that I didn’t want to be a psychologist. I became a truck woman instead. Yes, female truck drivers do exist. There aren’t a lot of us but we’re out there. For twenty years, I worked hard at it. Earned the respect and admiration of the toughest men on the job. Then I retired and wisely invested my money.
What’s the secret of my success? Simply put, I lucked out. I made a fortune during the Recession, starting moving companies across New England. Lots of people were moving out of their houses because of foreclosures. My moving companies pounced on that wave of opportunity. We rode that wave to its zenith, folks. By early 2008, I was a multi-millionaire. I worked hard for my money and I don’t suffer fools. Men and women of any race or background who don’t make the most of themselves and waste time and money get absolutely no pity from me. I don’t like to donate to any damn charity and I don’t believe in special treatment based on race, gender, or any category falling under the banner of political correctness. Lazy women don’t get any breaks from me. Neither do lazy men, or lazy people of any race.
Sometimes, some people ask me how come I’m so harsh. They ask these questions only because they don’t know me or what I’ve been through. When you know what a person has been through, then you will understand why they do what they do. It’s that simple. Walk a mile in someone’s shoes before judging them. If people did that more often, the world would be a better place. Life isn’t as simple as many would like it to be. But I try my best to remove any unnecessary complications. Even though I am bisexual, I don’t do the bed-hopping thing with women or men. I don’t trust either sex as far as I can throw them. Human beings are treacherous. It doesn’t matter if they’re Black or White, male or female, straight or gay. That’s the world according to me. It’s for the best, I’m sure. In case you’re wondering what in hell I’m talking about, I’ll explain shortly.
Historically, many people have been on the receiving end of mistreatment. Men and women, Blacks and Whites, straights and gays. We’ve all been there. Pain is part of the human experience. I don’t think any of us ever completely escape it. güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri Wealth and power can shield one from much unpleasantness but there are no guaranties. How else could you explain how one of my wealthy Black lady friends became my servant? Life can deal someone many reversals. There isn’t a man or woman out there who is so tough, so proud, so ruthless and so powerful that life can’t take him or her out and reduce them to nothingness. Sometimes, the powerful become the powerless. And vice versa.
In the United States of America, racial and gender issues, along with the politics of sexual orientation, completely dominate the political arena. If it’s not civil rights being discussed, it’s women’s rights or same-sex marriage. And there are battles fought every damn day over these issues. I think the single most neglected issue in the country is the issue of class. Whether you’re male or female, Black or White, straight or gay, how much money you have is what make s all the difference. Rich Black folks don’t associate with poor Black folks, or poor White people for that matter. Rich women don’t associate with poor women. Rich gay people don’t see poor gays and lesbians as their equals. Not really. Class is the biggest line to cross in America. Why? Simply because class has to do with how much money you got, not your skin color, your gender or which way you get down in your bedroom.
Right now, I’m sitting on my living room couch while my servant, Fatima Winston, trims my toe nails. She’s a tall, dark-skinned, big-bottomed and somewhat heavyset Black woman in her early forties. She used to be a supermodel, and the owner of Winston Magazine. One of the wealthiest and most powerful Black women in the country. Right up there with Oprah and Tyra Banks. She even had her own daytime talk show. Then she blew it. She hooked up with some shady men, both Black and White, who only liked her for her money. They took her the cleaners in divorce court since she never made any of them sign a prenuptial agreement. She started smoking crack. And that’s how her millions went. In legal fees, divorce battles, and lawsuits. It took her a lifetime to become a multi-millionaire mogul but only a few years to become a washed-up has been. Sometimes, I wonder why humanity invented money. It’s been known to make otherwise smart people do some crazy things.
Nowadays, Fatima Winston scrubs my floors, she brooms my carpet and vacuums while wearing a maid’s outfit. And I am smoking a cigar while watching a Will & Grace rerun on television. I know what you’re thinking. How the mighty has fallen. If Fatima Winston, the Black female millionaire had güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri been smart with her money, she wouldn’t be kneeling before a chubby White woman right now. It’s her fault. She only has herself to blame. She’s a stupid woman. And I got no problem bossing her around and making her do my bidding. From the moment she arrived at my mansion, I let her know that I wouldn’t tolerate any sassy behavior in my house. At this point, Fatima’s options were slim. She had been kicked out by a college friend of hers whom she stayed it after she lost all of her money. For a time, she had mooched off her fans but they too got tired of her. When she came to me, she desperately needed a job or a place to stay. It was either stay in my basement or wind up in a homeless shelter. Fatima Winston picked the former over the latter. A wise choice.
Sometimes, I must say I derive a certain pleasure from bossing this chubby Black woman around. She’s practically my slave as it is. She isn’t in a position to refuse me anything. Hard to believe that only a few years ago, she had the world at her fingertips. Fatima Winston, the Black female multi- millionaire had appeared in many movies and television shows. She’d been on Oprah, Letterman and O’Brien. She hosted Spring Break events for BET and appeared on the cover of Forbes Magazine. She had it all. How she managed to throw it all away it a mystery to me. Seriously. I think that’s why I like to dominate and humiliate this big Black woman. She had it all. Looks. Money. Power. Fame. The world loved her. And she fucked it all up!
Whenever Fatima accidentally breaks something, I summon her to my chambers for some punishment. I order the big Black woman to kneel before me and call me Mistress. Whenever she hesitates, I remind her that she’d be in a homeless shelter if it wasn’t for me. Yes, I’m the rich and powerful, generous White woman who rescues the poor Black woman from perdition. Sometimes, just for fun, I order Fatima to drop her panties and show me her fat Black ass. And she obeys. I guess I removed all of the sass out of this chubby Black female. I would grab her big Black butt and squeeze her cheeks. Then I would spank her ass. That’s what bad chicks get. A good spanking. Oh, yeah. I loved spanking the big Black woman. The more humiliated she felt, the more turned on I became.
Other times, I really pushed things to the limit. I would make Fatima parade around my house guests while on all fours, wearing a bikini and with a dog collar around her neck. The defeated look on her face turned me on like you would not believe. Whenever I get horny, I would simply spread my legs and order güvenilir bahis şirketleri her to lick my pussy. Like a good little servant, Fatima did exactly as she was told. Oh, my. The big Black woman was really good at eating pussy. She insists that she’s not a lesbian or even bisexual but I know better. Fatima took to eating pussy like a cat takes to hunting mice. She would lick and finger my pussy until I came, then I would fetch my strap-on dildo and show her why I had absolute power over her.
Strap-on dildo fixed firmly around my hips, I ordered Fatima to get on all fours. Face down and ass up. Then I sprayed lube on the dildo before spreading Fatima’s big butt cheeks wide open. Fatima really didn’t like having her ass fucked but after so much “tough love” from me, she got used to it. Nowadays she doesn’t even fuss anymore as I slide my dildo into her asshole. Yes, I’m a filthy rich, big White woman sodomizing my Black female servant with my strap-on dildo. And she loves it. Got a problem with that? I didn’t think so. I grabbed Fatima’s hips and thrust the dildo deep into her ass. The big Black woman gasped. Even though this big Black woman has a huge round butt, she’s got a really tight asshole. I guess it’s true what my longtime buddy, the local writer Samuel says. Big Black women with really big butts have the tightest assholes on the planet. While fucking Fatima with my dildo, I grabbed a handful of her long Black hair, yanking her head back. I whispered a special little word into her ear. Fatima’s eyes widened in shock. I smiled. Hey, I call a spade a spade.
I love dominating Fatima because I know deep down that’s what she needs. Plenty of hard-working Black men and Black women out there will never get near the millions of dollars that this stupid Black woman threw away. I wouldn’t think much of her if she were a blue-eyed blonde either. I fucked her ass hard, owning it. Why? Simply because I can. She was given the Keys to the Kingdom and she threw them away. Those who can’t lead must follow. Those who can’t dominate must submit. Those who can’t order must serve. That’s the way of the world. I slammed my dildo deep into Fatima’s asshole, shoving it so deep into her ass it’s not even funny. When I pulled my dildo out of her, Fatima’s formerly tight ass was now a gaping hole. I smiled, pleased with my handiwork. I think I showed this bitch who’s boss, don’t you?
Afterwards, I ordered Fatima to go take a bath. I can’t stand it when she smells like sex. Ugh. After she showers, I will inspect her body for cleanliness and her wardrobe as well. Then I’ll make sure she continues her duties a s I head to Boston for a business meeting with some shareholders in my moving company. The business can’t run itself, folks. That’s just not the way things work. As you can see, I run a tight ship. At home and at work. A good leader inspires respect in those who serve him or her. Respect begins with fear. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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