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De9jaSpirit Originals 2

The Tradition – Season 1 – Episode 9

Episode 9:



“Taste my ass, bitch,” John commanded. “I want to feel your tongue up in my asshole.”


Doreen refused to comply. She clenched her jaw and fought against the pressure on the sides of her head and the back of her neck. John responded by squeezing his powerful thighs harder.


“Today is your day of reckoning. I am here to teach you that there are consequences for the way you treat people. Your days of objectifying and humiliating young black men are over.”


John increased the pressure on Doreen’s skull. She felt lightheaded, and wondered how much longer she could hold out before she lost consciousness. Dark spots were appearing in front of her eyes. She only had seconds left before she would black out. Once unconscious, John or Mr. Rowley would have unfettered access to the security files. A vital link in Jamal’s story would be confirmed, and her other conquests would be revealed. She had no choice but to cooperate with John, no matter how disgusting his demands.


Doreen cracked open her mouth and extended her tongue. She felt the short, wiry hairs lining the crack of John’s butt. Her tongue instinctively withdrew from the unpleasant sensation, but she willed herself to extend it once again and resume contact. Her nose was already filled with the aroma of male ass, but adding taste to the scent amplified the sensation almost beyond the limits of her tolerance. She felt as though she would vomit, but she forced the bile back down her throat. As she licked up and down the length of John’s ass crack, she felt the pressure on her neck and the sides of her head diminish.


“That’s better,” John encouraged, “but you’re missing the hole.”


Doreen sighed, took a deep breath, and pressed her tongue against John’s asshole. She swirled her tongue around the rim several times, and then withdrew.


“You’re not getting it, whore. Your tongue, in my ass, now. I’m not going to tell you again.”


“I can’t do that.”


“‘I can’t’ is the mantra of losers. At this moment, you can’t afford to lose. Find the strength within yourself to do what you have to do. At this moment in history, failure is not an option for you.”


Doreen closed her eyes and pressed her face against John’s butt crack. The smell of ass almost overwhelmed her. She extended her tongue and sought out the tight ring of his asshole. She swirled around the ridge, and then held her breath and pushed. She felt the ring part, and the tip of her tongue pushed through the opening. She stabbed it in and out three times, and then withdrew as the last of her breath burned in her lungs.


“OK,” she panted. “I did it. Are you satisfied?”


“I knew you could do it. You just had to believe in yourself. Now tell me, how does my ass taste?”


“Like shit, asshole. What did you think it tastes like?”


“Doreen, this will be over much more quickly if you don’t antagonize me. But every time you piss me off, it makes me believe that you just don’t get what’s happening. I can’t leave until I’m convinced you’ve learned something.”


“Fuck you, you pompous ass. You’re just another misogynist prick who gets off on humiliating helpless women.”


“Don’t try to play the victim card, Doreen. We’re only here because of your immoral criminal conduct. Now stand up.”


“How am I supposed to do that with my hands tied behind my back?”


“Let me help you.”


John stood up and grabbed a fistful of blonde hair. He pulled Doreen to her feet, using her hair for leverage.


“Oww, mother fucker. That hurts, asshole.”


“It’s supposed to. No lesson worth learning comes without pain.”


“Do you believe the shit that comes out of your mouth, or do you just like to hear yourself talk?”


“Turn around. Face the table.”


Doreen complied.




“Oww!” Doreen cried.


John’s hand left a bright red print on Doreen’s butt cheek.


“Spread your legs.”


Doreen opened the space between her feet.




“Oww! What the fuck was that for?”


“Wider. I want your feet even with the edges of this table.”


The table was twenty-four inches wide. Doreen lined her feet up with the table edges, resulting in her boots lining up with the table legs.


“That’s better. Now hold still.”


John pulled a zip tie out of his pocket and secured Doreen’s left ankle to the table leg. He then moved over to the right leg and repeated the process.


“Now bend over.”


Doreen bent her knees and lowered her face to the table. The cold steel pressing against her nipples caused a shiver to run up the length of her spine. With her hands still tied behind her back and her legs secured to the table, she was immobilized.


John stood behind Doreen and admired her soft white ass. The plump woman had wide hips, a big soft butt, and thick thighs. Her creamy white skin was marred only by the red hand prints he left on both cheeks.


“Are you just going to stare at my ass, or are you planning to fuck me?” Doreen asked. She wiggled her ass as additional motivation.


John removed his shoes, took off his pants, and dropped his underwear to the floor. Standing in just his shirt and tie, and with his black cock jutting out from his groin, John grabbed his shaft and stroked it.


“Bitch, it’s time to pay the piper.”


John had to bend his knees to align his cock with Doreen’s pussy. He rubbed the purple head up and down her pink slit. When he was convinced that the head was sufficiently lubricated with her copious juices, John thrust forward.


“Ungh!” Doreen grunted.


John withdrew almost to the tip, and then thrust forward again.




“You like that bitch? You like that black dick?”


“Shut up and fuck me, asshole.”


John pushed Doreen’s head into the table. He withdrew and then thrust into her again.


“You’re forgetting who’s in charge here, whore.”


John withdrew from Doreen walked around the table. He picked up his belt and then returned to Doreen’s bent and spread form. He wrapped the belt around her neck, threaded the notched end through the buckle, and pulled it until it was taught. He coiled the loose end in his hand and pulled. Doreen coughed and sputtered.


“If you’re going to go around acting like a bitch in heat, then I’m going to treat you like one. If I hear any noise coming from your mouth that I’m not interested in hearing, I give this choke collar a tug. Do you hear what I’m saying, bitch?”


“Fuck off.”


John pulled on his belt, cutting off Doreen’s air.


“Do you understand what I’m telling you, bitch?”


“Yes,” Doreen whispered.


“Now let’s do this again.”

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