Date: Fri, 16 Jul 2021 21:34:05 +0000 (UTC)
From: Eric Lee J <ericleej12@yahoo.com>
Subject: Our Journey into Happiness Part 1

Black Master white slave: Our Journey into Happiness

NOTE: To set the record straight, this is a true story of my Master and
me. I am a middle-aged, GWM who is the slave and property to my Husband AND
Master, a Superior Black Male, who is a year younger than me. For years I
fantasized about being his slave not realizing he was doing the same. In
correspondence to Master or to another slave, I, me, my, or mine are never
capitalized; however, for grammatical purposes in our story, they are.  Our
conversation the night we became Master and slave is as close as we
remember it to be. The word, Black, is always capitalized to show my
respect to Black Superior Men and Black Superior Women; whether or not it
should be under normal grammar rules, I hope you enjoy our story; Master
calls it our journey into happiness.

	My parents died in a plane crash when I was six-years old. I then
went to live in my godparents very loving home with my cousins in central
Florida. Master and his two sisters, one younger, one older, were born in
Los Angeles. When he was in the second grade, his family went on a summer
vacation; one stop being Devil's Tower in Wyoming. Tired of big city life,
they moved to Wyoming, and Master considers Wyoming home.

	We live in the Dallas, Texas, metropolitan area and met when we
were both teachers in an inner-city high school; he taught business
courses; I taught English, Journalism, and Creative Writing courses. Three
years later, he left academia and started a banking career; today he a
senior vice president for a bank. I stayed in education for twenty years
and now own my own PR company, or I should say that Master owns my PR
company.

	We met on the first day of the 2000-2001 school year at one of
those staff development days; we were both in our mid-twenties at the time.
Our gaydar was up for both of us, but we played it safe, since neither one
of us was sure if the other one was gay. We'd talk when we'd meet each
other in the faculty mail room, hallway, parking lot, and twice at the
grocery store---all small talk. In late September, he was the bolder one
and asked me out on a date. I've always been attracted to Black men, and
without any delay, said yes.

On our first date he said he is a total top; I told him I am a total
bottom, a fantastic beginning. I told him of my foot fetish, and he told me
of his enjoyment in giving bare ass spankings, especially to white men. I
never had a hard, bare ass spanking, and he never had his feet
worshiped. We had sex that evening, and I ended up spending the entire
weekend at his apartment. About two weeks later, when we were now
boyfriends, we bought porn videos showing each of our fetishes.

	By the time we moved in together during the Easter holidays, I had
received quite a few bare-ass spankings, and he was used to foot massages,
dominating me with his feet, and having his toenails and fingernails
trimmed. We both enjoyed participating in these fetishes, along with a sex
life that was getting better each day. Since we met, he has never trimmed
his own fingernails or toenails.

	Life was great for the two of us. We moved up in our careers,
developed close friendships with gay and straight couples, traveled, bought
a condominium and later the home we now live in. On the Fourth of July in
2009, we were at the home of Charles and Jimmy, another bi-racial couple
(now Master Charles and slave jimmy) when Master said he wasn't feeling
well, so we went home early. The next day, he woke up feeling better, but
in the early afternoon, he said he was having trouble breathing, so we
called 911. He was admitted to the hospital where doctors determined he had
an irregular heartbeat but had not had a heart attack. For the next
seventeen months, it was a game of sorts in trying to get the right
medicine to bring his life back to normal. Needless to say, our sex life at
the time was no longer a regular occurrence.

During Christmas 2010, we went to Wyoming as usual to spend the holiday
with his parents. Whenever we're in his parents' home, he always like to
fuck me rough and hard, and I like the excitement of this too. After being
there for a week, and no sex, I figured it was just where our sex life was
at the moment. Then on the night after Christmas, he walked into the
bedroom and threw a bath towel at me. I draped it on my side of the bed,
got naked, and waited for my husband to crawl into the bed. That night we
did it three times. The next night he did the same thing. This time he used
two of our neckties to tie me to the bedposts and fucked me three times
again. After the third time, while still tied up, he sat on my face for me
to clean his dick and balls. This caused him to get hard again, and I
sucked his dick until I could taste his warm cum going down my throat.

	After a night of incredible sex, he sat in the only chair in the
bedroom. I then joined him, knelt on the floor, and started massaging his
feet with the hope he would tell me to suck his toes. "Our sex life is
finally back," he told me. I then asked him if this meant I could go back
to being his foot slave.

	He then told me, "I've been thinking about that a lot this past
year, and it's time we face reality." Unsure what he meant, I asked him,
"What do you mean?" He then told me.

	"I'll always be in love with you, but I want you to be my slave and
property. If you don't want a Master-slave relationship, you can start
packing when we go home tomorrow. You'll have two weeks to find a place to
live." I wasn't expecting this conversation.

 "I want to totally own you, control your every activity, and take away
every freedom you now have. After your slave training, I want you to feel
totally inferior to me and my friends who are Superior Black Masters and
Mistresses of white slaves that you'll now be meeting. Should you agree to
this lifestyle, understand there is no turning back. You will be committing
the rest of your life to me in slavery."

	My heart was racing with excitement.  I had fantasized about being
his slave for about fifteen years. Every time I'd plan a time to discuss
this with him, I'd get nervous and never discussed the topic with him.  The
life he described for me was what I had thought it would be, and now it was
about to become reality. I then asked him, how should I address you"?

"You will address me as Master. I will call you `boy', slave
sometimes. `Boy' is more demeaning as you will now be my inferior white
male slave. I want it feel as demeaning to you as it was for Black men in
the past."

"Master, I've have fantasized about being your slave for a long time. I'd
like to make this lifetime commitment to you; as your slave."

	He then stood up; "It looks like we could have done this years
ago.". I was then told to kneel, and I did. "I'll ask you one more time
before I claim ownership of you."

	"Yes, Master, I understand, but I won't be changing my mind."

	"Are you willing to surrender every freedom you have and become my
slave and property?  I will own everything about you, personal and
monetary, and control every aspect of your life from this moment on. As my
slave, you will discover your destiny is giving up your freedom to serve
and exist for me as your Master. This should give you peace in your life
when you realize you will be living the destiny other inferior white men
are scared to try by serving a Superior Black Man."

	"I understand, Master."

"From this moment on, there is no turning back; are you willing to serve me
for the rest of your life?"

	"Master, I want to make this lifetime commitment; please take
ownership of me."

	He then said, "Take your last breath as a free man." I took a deep
breath and then exhaled. Placing his right hand in front of my mouth, he
then said, "Kiss my hand, slave." About thirty minutes before, I was in bed
having sex with Ty; now I was kneeling before my Master. I wasn't sure what
would happen in my training, but my heart was racing, and I felt like I had
won the lottery. Finally, I was my husband's slave.

He then led me to the bathroom where I was told to shave my chest, armpits,
crotch, and ass. Master told me that these areas of a male body were
designed for free men to have, and I was no longer a free man. Master
watched me as I did my first body shave. While shaving, he told during the
summer and fall, I will shave my arms and legs too. I was also told I would
be naked and collared at all times with the exception of sleeping,
showering, working in the yard, and going to work. Once I finished, Master
rubbed his hands in these areas and told me I was to include this as a
morning routine. I was told to expect periodic body inspections, and these
areas of my body were to be as smooth as the day I was born.

	Back in the bedroom, I was told that when we got home tomorrow
afternoon my slave training would begin, and we would write, publish, and
sign a Master-slave Agreement. Master then said it was time for bed. I
straightened the bedspread and sheets that had gotten a little messed up
during sex. Knowing I was no longer allowed on furniture, I grabbed a
pillow to use as I slept on the carpeted area on the side of the
bed. Master took the pillow saying using a pillow to sleep on was a
privilege given to free people, and I was no longer a free man.

	The next morning, I woke up before Master and once again, did my
body shave. It had been less than six hours, so there was no stubble yet,
but I wanted to show Master that I was going to be an obedient and
submissive slave. Master was still sleeping, so I sat on the floor on the
side of his bed. When he woke up about thirty minutes later, I learned that
my morning routine would also include drinking his morning piss and kissing
the tops of his feet to show my submission to him.

	We got home around 4:00 P.M. and my slave training began
immediately. I was told to undress in the garage and meet Master in the
living room. I would unpack his SUV later, and he showed me the storage
cabinet, which is now my closet. Master walked into the living room wearing
leather pants and boots without a shirt, and he looked so sexy wearing
leather. I followed Master to his bedroom where I was handcuffed; he then
positioned them into two hooks on the wall. Moving my wrists and arms was
nearly impossible. A butt plug was rammed roughly up my ass. He pulled out
his paddle with the holes, that stings the worst and his flogger. A
mouthpiece was inserted and secured tightly in place. Unable to speak
clearly, Master told me to count the whacks I would be receiving,

	Through muffled speech, I counted ten whacks with the paddle to my
left cheek. He started paddling hard with the first whack. There was no
starting off softly and building up to harder whacks like he did before my
slavery. I counted to ten. Then going to my right cheek, I once again
counted to ten, and he soon did the same thing when he spanked the butt
plug. I don't remember, but I think he did these five or six times. I'm not
sure how long he paddled my buns, but he then stopped, went to the bed, and
grabbed his belt. He used the belt for two more rounds of spanking my buns
and the butt plug before doing one round using the belt buckle. My buns
were now hurting and would be swollen and have welts on them for over a
week. He then grabbed the flogger and gave me twenty-five lashes to my
back. My back was black and blue, and two areas were near bleeding when he
stopped. My butt received a few hits from the flogger, along with my thighs
and feet. He then slapped both sides of my face with his hands using the
same strength he used on my buns and back. My body and face were red and
sore from the beating, and I hoped that Master was pleased at how well I
was doing on my first official training session,

	This first training lesson was so intense, and I wasn't sure how
much longer I could take it or what else was in store for me. Master then
told me the reason for the intensity of this first lesson was to make me
well aware of my new status and the freedoms I had less than twenty-four
hours before were now gone. This was my first lesson letting me know that I
was now under his total control. Master told me the degree to which he
could use and abuse my body was his decision and his decision only. Now
untied, my face, buns, and back were throbbing in pain; I knew I was now in
training, but I hoped Master would show some mercy until tomorrow.

	A few minutes later, my hands were now free, but it hurt to walk,
and I didn't even want to think what it would feel like to sit down. Master
then told me to follow him to the office. He told me what the contents of
our Master-slave Agreement would contain, and he then typed it. By 8:00
P.M., the agreement was printed and signed by both of us. Our Master-slave
agreement stated this was a lifetime commitment between two consenting
adults. The agreement outlined my daily responsibilities, all of my duties,
all of my restrictions, and the punishments I will receive for being
negligent in my duties. After signing the agreement, Master now officially
owned me and controlled every aspect of my life; there was no turning back.

	Master then said, "You've been through a lot since we've been home,
boy." Now it's time to relax." We then went into the living room and
watched TV. Master sat on the sofa with his feet propped up. I sat on the
floor next to him, still throbbing in pain. At 10:30, Master said it was
now bedtime, so we walked to his bedroom. I pulled the comforter and top
sheet back so Master could sleep comfortably in his bed; although. I was
unsure where I would be sleeping. The floors in Master's house are wood
floors with tile floors in the bathrooms. Master then told me to grab a top
sheet out of the linen closet. He then pointed to the large area rug on the
side of his bed and told me, "Get used to your new bed, boy."

	After two months of intense training, I was now used to CBT and
being strapped to the bondage table. My training "graduation" present from
Master was when he tied me to the bondage table more secure than he had
ever done so before. He then came into the room with a branding iron that
has his initials on it, and he branded the left side of my hairless crotch
and the right side of my buns. Today, I am rarely in bondage with the
exception of Black History Month, where I may be on the table several times
a week, or when a Black Person has been wronged by a white person, or if
Master thinks I am acting too much like a free man.

	Everyone in his family now knows we are Master and slave; although,
when visiting them I wear clothes. Per Master's instructions to his family,
I now speak only when spoken to, and now, the family is used to not
speaking to me very often. I usually serve the meals to the family and
clean up after while they're visiting. Just about every time we visit,
Master reminds his family these are my duties, and the family will then
stop asking to help with the cleanup. Sir Rodney, his nephew, who is also
gay and lives in Boston, has spoken to Master about our daily life together
and is hoping to own his own white slave soon. Sir Rodney, a Black
activist, often says he'd welcome the day if we could see a shift to Black
Superiority and white inferiority.

 During the Christmas holidays in 2020, we celebrated our tenth anniversary
as Master and slave. Master gave me an electric remote cock ring as an
anniversary present and has been having fun using it on me. When Master now
calls me, if he thinks I'm taking too long to get to him, he presses the
remote until I get there.

Both of us still love our statuses. I have no desire to ever again be a
free man, and Master has no desire to ever grant me my freedom. I'm a happy
slave and believe I'm privileged in my lifetime commitment to my
Master. Life is good!

slave eric