Kate had been working for The New Voice for months now and she still hadn’t been given an assignment that had much substance to it. So far all she’d been writing about was cute animals. It annoyed her that despite the fact that she had some of the best grades in her college journalism class and despite the fact that she’d won awards in college for her editorials, she was being treated like some newb that didn’t know anything about journalism.
She’d taken this minimally paying internship with The New Voice, an online media company, because they claimed to cut right to the news that was important without bias. So far, only the men seemed to be getting the decent stories. No bias my ass, Kate thought as she approached the editor’s office.
It was the first time she’d been called to his office and she was hoping that she was going to finally get a good story. But she had no idea how important the story that she was about to get really was.
Half an hour later, she left the office, shocked. What had convinced her editor to give her such an important story? Even though she was thrilled, she wondered why someone else hadn’t gotten the story. Black Lives Matter was one of the trendiest topics around and anything that anyone wrote on the topic would automatically get a ton of views. The more views her article got, the more she’d get paid.
She looked at the paper in her hand that had the number of Jamal Benson, the leader of the local Black Lives Matter chapter, written on it. She’d seen pictures of him online before and she was a little worried.
One of the reasons she was worried was because he seemed like a very intimidating figure. He was tall and very good looking and he never smiled. To be honest, Kate was a little scared at the prospect of meeting him in person.
The other reason for her concern was her own appearance. She was white, blonde, and had a tiny frame. Although she was slender, she was quite curvy. And very white. How would Jamal Benson feel about being interviewed by a journalist that looked young and privileged? A journalist that had never known struggle in her life? Did he even know who would be coming to interview him?
Kate knew she would have to be prepared for anything during this interview. No matter what Benson threw at her, she would have to be ready for it. This could be the interview that took her into the big leagues of the world of online journalism and she was going to do whatever she needed to do in order to make sure that she got this right.
A week later, everything was set up and Kate was standing at the entry way of the building where she would go into the Black Lives Matter offices and interview Jamal Benson. She’d prepared her questions and gone over everything relentlessly. She practiced responding to objections if he tried to get out of answering a particular question. She reworded her questions over and over again until she was sure that there wasn’t possibly anything that could be construed as racist or unsympathetic to their cause. She was ready for anything.
But she was not ready for her own emotions when she stepped into the main area of the Black Lives Matter office.
In the reception area, Kate took a seat as requested. The longer she waited the more nervous she got though. People rushed back and forth from office to office and not one other person there, besides Kate, was white. Some of them looked at her disdainfully, wondering what this pretty white girl could possibly be doing in their office. She’d tried to dress conservatively in a grey jacket with matching pencil skirt that came all the way down to her knees. She’d put her hair up in a casual bun so that her long blonde locks wouldn’t be so apparent. But she felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb.
Finally, she was escorted to Jamal Benson’s office. The door shut behind her and she stood, waiting to be invited to sit.
Benson was sitting in a swivel chair facing the other direction. When he turned she sucked in her breath. He was indeed as intimidating as he looked in the pictures that she saw of him online. And he didn’t smile. But he was very good looking and Kate was not prepared for how that was going to make her feel.
“Sit,” Benson motioned to the chair in front of the desk.
Kate sat down nervously.
“I’m Jamal Benson.”
She gulped. His voice was very deep and smooth. “Kate Simpson.”
“Now, Miss Simpson, tell me what you are here for.” He stands. “Tell me why you think I should have any desire to talk to a reporter that comes from a business that consistently distorts the truth; that perpetuates the stereotype of the dangerous black man, and uses soft racism to make progressive white people like yourself fear us?”
Kate was not expecting that. “I just want to tell the truth. I want people to understand what Black Lives Matter really is about.”
He stood and moved behind her. For a moment he was silent. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She wished that she hadn’t pinned her hair up because he was making it very difficult for her to remember the questions she’d rehearsed.
“Ms. Simpson, how could you possibly report the truth when you don’t even know what truth is yourself? Have you ever known what it is like to be afraid of the police? The very people who claim that they are there for your safety but prove by their actions that they have nothing like that in mind? Have you ever seen a friend or family member shot down by the police in the streets? Do you have any clue what it feels like to be exploited by the system that rules your world?”
At first she was so intent on listening to his words and trying to figure out what she was going to say in response that she didn’t even notice what his hands were doing. Then, she noticed that one hand was on her right breast and he was squeezing it like a toy. A little more aggressively than anything she was used to.
As he continued to question her, giving her no time to actually say anything in response, his other hand found her other breast and fondled it through her jacket. What should she do? She wanted this story and if she told him to stop he might kick her out of the office. She wasn’t sure if she should do anything so for the moment she went with it. Plus, it felt damn good and her pussy was twinging with excitement.
Jamal continued to play with her breasts as he lowered his voice. “Ms. Simpson, you cannot possibly write about our cause until you have experienced brute exploitation, until you know what it is to feel completely helpless. Don’t you agree?”
She didn’t think about what she was agreeing to as a barely audible “Yes…” escaped her lips. She was thinking more about what his hands were doing and how they were making her panties wet than the actual question.
“Good. You actually may be capable of enlightenment.” Jamal moved to stand in front of her. He thrust his groin towards her and said, “Now, undo my pants and take out my cock.”
She gasped. No man had ever spoken to her like that before, let alone a man as tall and imposing and sexy as Jamal Benton. She could never have imagined herself doing something like this in the past but she wanted to see it.
She reached forward, still wondering what on earth she was doing this for, and undid the zipper. He was already bulging against the fabric of his underwear and when she pulled down the elastic of his boxers, his cock popped out. She held it in her small hands (his cock made her hands seem very dainty anyways, she thought) and decided that one had was not enough for his girth and wrapped the other a hand around it as well. She felt it twitch under her touch as her soft hands moved up and down the length of his shaft.
“Nice handling,” Benson said. “Now I want to see you. Stand up and take off your clothes.”
“You do want to understand the feeling of helplessness that black people have experienced for hundreds of generations don’t you?”
His eyes burned into hers and she nodded. She needed this interview. Besides, his voice had a way of making her feel powerless and under his control and she admitted to herself that it just turned her on even more.
Slowly, she removed the jacket and carefully hung it over the back of the chair. Then the skirt. Then the blouse. Kate reached behind her to undo the bra but he stopped her.
“That’s enough for now.”
She was speechless as he took off his clothing in front of her until he stood there, naked. His muscles rippled under his dark skin. He didn’t’ take his eyes off her for a moment and as she stood there in front of him in her lace white bra, full panties, stockings, garters and high heels, she felt more exposed than she had ever felt naked in front of any other man.
“Get on your knees.”
He moved forward until his cock was directly in front of her mouth. He rubbed it against her lips.
“Open your mouth…”
He didn’t even have to say it. Her mouth was already open, eager to please him. He made her want to obey him before he even told her what to do. She felt completely powerless but also willing to do whatever it took to prove to him that she was worthy.
With one hand at the base of his shaft, she opened her throat as he pressed into her mouth. She covered her teeth with her lips and let her tongue slide up and down his shaft. He stretched her mouth open as he forced her to take more than she’d ever thought she was capable of. She would show him just how much she could handle.
Looking up at him, she ignored the tear that formed in her eye as she pushed away the gag reflex that threatened to overtake her. She tilted her head back as he thrust into her mouth, pulled at the bun at the back of her head until her blonde silky hair spilled loose in his large hand, and moaned at the ecstasy of letting herself be taken in such a manner.
All the while, Jamal continued to talk about all the white oppression his people had suffered from over history. He’d grunt and then pull her hair and tell her that white people needed to have more empathy for their suffering but that until they had experienced what black people had gone through the probably never would. He told her that she was lucky to have such an opportunity, as the head of his cock touched the back of her throat and he looked deep into her watery blue eyes.
He tensed up and Kate knew he was about to come. She prepared herself to please him by swallowing his load.
But that was not what Jamal had in mind.
With a strained voice, he pulled his cock out of her mouth and said, “You need to have the feeling of powerlessness…” (he stroked his cock and pulled her head back) “…thrown right in your privileged face…” (white creamy jism hit her cheek) “…before you can understand any of it…” (he groaned and more cum hit her other cheek, chin and nose).
Kate looked up at him, smiling, and said, “Thank you for educating me Jamal.”
She licked at a dollop of cum that hovered over her upper lip. “Are you ready to continue with the interview now?”
He shakes his head. “No. Not yet. Take off your panties and stockings.”
Kate squirmed with excitement, knowing there was more to come and didas he told her to. She hung them on the back of the chair with the rest of her clothes.
Wearing only her bra and garter and high heels, she held her hand over her pussy. He pointed to the couch and told her to lay down.
Her legs spread as if they had a will of their own and he moved between them. His tongue slid up and down her thighs, teasing her, making her moan loudly. The tip of his tongue touched her labia.
“Yes, please, please…”
“Please eat me. Make me come…”
“Why? Because you’re a dirty little slut?”
“I’m a dirty little slut. I’m helpless to you. I just want you to take me, make me scream, make me come…”
“Yes, because I have complete power over you right?”
“Yes Jamal. You have all the power. You can make me do anything you want. You are…”
With a smile, his tongue moved forward and slid through her folds. He teased her with just the tip of his tongue until she pressed her hips upwards, begging for more; then he pulled away. While she was panting and squirming, he moved forward again, laying his tongue flat against her lips, and laved at her delicate folds, roughly. Faster and faster. He teased her mercilessly. He circled over her clit until her hips were gyrating under his mouth. When she got excited, he moved away, going back to slow gentle licks and gradually speeding up again until she was moaning for more. He sucked the hard nub into his mouth until he knew she was ready to come.
Then he pulled back.
“Get on your knees.”
She turned over eagerly and presented her bare bottom to him.
“Kate, before you can even attempt to represent black people and our causes in your little paper, you must understand…”
Kate heard the sound of lube being squirted from a bottle.
“…what it means to be forced to beg for what you want. You must understand…”
She felt the head of his cock pressing against her backdoor.
“No Jamal, please, not there…”
“You must understand what it means to accept some suffering in order to get what you want for yourself, for your family, for your future.”
“Please be gentle Jamal, please. I’ve never done this before.”
“You must understand what it means to beg for the satisfaction that you have wanted all of your life.”
Kate felt the head of his cock press through the barrier of her ass and felt the burn. She grunted and scooted forward.
Jamal grabbed her firmly by the hips.
“This is the only way you can be prepared. The only way you can possibly comprehend.”
He pressed forward and she felt his thickness overtake her, stretch her. And then with one more thrust, his shaft was buried completely in her ass. The noise that came from her throat was guttural, dirty, and completely animalistic. It was a sound of complete surrender and desire.
He pulled back and thrust into her again. It hurt but made her want more at the same time.
Kate could no longer think in words. All she saw were images of naked black men with huge cocks, fucking her, making her submit, making her feel powerless.
Kate pressed her ass back against Jamal’s thrusts, begging him, “Please, make me come!”
“Yes, that’s it, Kate. Beg for your satisfaction. Maybe then you will get what you want. Or maybe, I’ll simply come in your ass, deny you satisfaction, and send you on your way, just the way that white people have fucked over the black population and denied them their rights.”
“No, please Jamal…”
“Maybe then you would understand and write a great article worthy of our cause…”
“I promise Jamal, the article will be amazing. Please, let me come.”
He laughed, enjoyed her frustration and her inability to control the situation. The uncharacteristic smile on his face came from proving to this white bitch that she was undeserving of his attention and that he was the only one that could control her orgasm.
Kate could feel the orgasm building inside her. She knew she was close. If only he would let her come. If only he would let her slide over the edge of sexual bliss.
He slowed his movements until she started to beg again.
“OMG, Jamal. No, please don’t stop. Fuck my ass. I am not worthy of you but please make me come. Please…”
He knew she was close. He pulled almost completely out, leaving only the head of his cock inside her. She wiggled, pushing back against him.
Then, when he knew she couldn’t stand it anymore, he drove his cock deep into her ass again and again until her felt her tremble. Her sphincter closed around his cock, forcing him to thrust harder, making her scream out in pleasure and pain.
Kate could not believe the noises that came from her throat as he ripped her open and she felt the orgasm erupt through her body. Wave after wave crashed over her as her body tightened up around his girth. She felt his muscle twitch inside her as he came, and she collapsed on the couch.
Later, as Kate rode home in the cab, she tried to review her notes. She squirmed in the seat, trying to find a comfortable position. Her ass still burned from the stretching that Jamal had given her and her pussy twitched as she remembered how he had taught her what feeling powerless really felt like.
A smile spread across her lips as she wondered if all of her future assignments would be so very intimate and personal. Who would she interview next that might be able to teach her a lesson?