3 comments/ 45026 views/ 13 favorites The Princess and The Black Waiter By: Mangala Two weeks later I walked nude from the bathroom into my bed room and looked at the black lacy panties of the finest silk that Wolfgang had bought. It struck me then that I was really nothing more than a slut, even a whore. At least he was always buying me the best money could buy. Nothing but the best for his "aristocratic slut," as he called me. Lingerie from La Perla, shoes from Manola Blahnik, silk stockings from Fogal, an evening dress from Valentino, blouses and skirts from Cavalli. How easy it is to get used to what is expected; like wearing black silk panties, stockings, garters and only covered by a short silk robe in the morning when he permitted me. What was most expected was being available to perform at any time. Each day was an exciting journey even if I was a bit frightened most of the time. Every day I stood on my high heels before the mirror and looked at myself. I felt the heat when I looked at my pointed nipples, staring at the wanton slut in the mirror. I knew until he would depart for Germany that every day I was his Randi, his whore. I paid for the pretty dresses and the beautiful lingerie he bought me with my sexy body. That morning two weeks after it began was like a revelation for me, when I truly knew myself. I felt a strange wetness in my vagina when I walked into the living room on my high heels, knowing the truth that my body was not my own anymore. It belonged to Wolfgang to use as he pleased. I was ready to do whatever he wanted to avoid returning to India, even at the cost of further humiliation, knowing that getting through a few more days was necessary to regain my free will. Wolfgang looked at me and said, "What is it Mangala, my dear slut?" "Will you behave and be friendly until I return to Germany or shall we call your Dad and show him the nice pictures of his pretty daughter? I can tell him that you couldn't wait to have sex with the first man you found." "You don't want your family to know that, do you Mangala? Just look at these pictures. See the way you are dressed? My dear it's not very decent showing your wet pussy and your nice tits. It is not expected from a nice and aristocratic lady like you to have your hand on my dick and my cum on your pretty face." "Mangala I have decided that this morning you are going to show me you are a slut. You will be especially nice, friendly and cooperate to whoever I want. When I want you to suck, you will open your pretty mouth and suck the cock of whoever I want and when I want you to fuck, you are going to open your pretty legs without any protest and you are going to show how good you are at satisfying until I am happy with your performance." What he said horrified me. Why would Wolfgang do this? I looked at him, no warmth in his features, a knowing look instead and he knew he had defeated me. I nodded my head, realizing that I did not even know how many times he had fucked me during the last two weeks; there had not been a day without him inside me, either my vagina or me on my knees sucking his dick. I begged him, "No please, I cannot do it anymore." He leaned over and touched my face and said, "Of course you can my beautiful Indian Princess. You can and you will! You will do what I want this morning. You will not be an arrogant bitch like you always are to other men, thinking that you are better than them. This my Darling," his tone became gentler, "Will not do..." I knew the truth by then though. There was nothing gentle about Wolfgang. "My dear, you are a whore... a sophisticated whore, but a whore." "You don't live on this large estate in India anymore; You don't have your Daddy to protect you, You don't have your servants or your driver to command... Time has come full circle for you, because now it's you "Princess" who will serve men and obey." "Mangala, you will be friendly, sweet and polite and you will use your pretty mouth whenever it's needed by a man. You know I will be leaving next week and I do worry about you, Mangala my slut. But I will do my best to ensure you will be well fucked when I leave." "Darling, I know you may choose when I leave to go back to your decent life, you will sell your jewellery and fool yourself for a while and look for a boring man who you can wrap around your little finger." "But such men cannot satisfy you. Better for you to continue to satisfy your desires as a whore. In time you will not be able to ignore your body's wishes." "There will always be men who will look in your "fuck me" eyes and recognise your true desires, your need for sex, your need to obey and serve. They will take and use you the way I have." "But first this morning you are going to show you are a "good" girl and obey. It's time for a new experience and I know deep inside you can't wait to obey me, to open your pretty legs. You have always desired this since you were a little girl and I have decided to give it to you." I realized this morning he was particularly evil and he knew I would do anything to avoid returning to India, even at the cost of further humiliation. But knowing I would submit to another man at his command and actually doing it turned out to be a different matter entirely. When the room service waiter brought breakfast, he said good morning to Wolfgang and looked at me with a smirk on his face. So I knew right away what he had in mind. I disliked such common men, how I disliked this ignorant black servant that reminded me of my driver, Samuel because I had liked Samuel until he started to use me like all men want to use me. I ignored the black man arrogantly like I did every morning, something which I knew irritated Wolfgang immensely as we played our little mind games; me knowing that I had to obey him in everything, he knowing his days in New York were coming to an end to have his fun with me. But now I was afraid, there was a tension in the room and seeing how they looked at each other and smiled I knew they had discussed me. The truth is after my experiences with Samuel and how he made me obey him, "Be a nice girl for me Mistress Mangala," black men scared me more than anything; the way they always looked at me with their black eyes when we walked into a restaurant, me far above their station. In India I knew all too well how black Negro men are very attracted to Indian women like me, women that they could never have given their low status and the meagre jobs they are only able to get in India. Thinking back, I closed my eyes remembering my own black driver Samuel who always looked at me with his dark intense eyes, telling me in his dark voice I was a bad arrogant girl, that I was always teasing boys. He took me to school and brought me back alone; then one day when my parents where away on a long trip to Europe he started to influence me. In a locked room in the back of the stable where nobody could find us he told me that nice girls like me must always obey men and do what they are told to do. Not be an arrogant bad girl because then Mangala must be punished. Then his finger went over my lips and when he told me "bad girls much be punished don't they Mistress Mangala," and I answered him "yes Samual bad girls must be punished! I opened mouth and his thumb touched and played with my tongue. Slowly his black fingers went in and out as he told me to suck his thumb until I got it right, the whole experience making me feel so strange. It was our secret and during the following days every afternoon I went to the stable to see him. Then he started by taking my hand each day and he slowly made me touch the front of his trousers so that I could feel him. Then when I proved willing to do that much without him making me, he bade me unzip his trousers and touch him for the first time when he showed himself. If dad had known how in the following days Samuel made his pretty innocent daughter touch and lick his big black member and corrupted her thoughts, he would have shot him. The first time I saw his big black thing I was so scared of how powerful it seemed. It was thick and so long, but Samuel was nice and when he took my small hand and smiled and made me touch him it gave me a funny feeling as he laughed. That first night I could not sleep, still seeing his sex tool in front of me. I started to touch myself for the first time. I suppose that he had started to slowly seduce me. When I was comfortable touching his huge tool he began touching my face tenderly, his finger went over my lips and when he told me I opened mouth and his thumb touched and played with my tongue, exciting me. I sat up straight with Wolfgang's strong hand on my knee. I felt again like a little girl in front of Samuel, the way the black waiter leered at me just like Samuel had done. I was almost hypnotised as I sat there, lost in memory. I felt Wolfgang's touch, his hand came between my legs stroking me and I was abruptly helpless, unable to resist when he pushed his hand further between my thighs. I felt my excitement, the moisture between my legs, letting him slide his hands between my legs. I knew that until he left I was his sex partner, unwilling or not and I would open my legs for him every time he wanted. He was exploring the inside of my thighs, stroking me, making me shiver, me growing cold, but also growing wet, making me look down to hide my embarrassment as he touched me. When I looked up I saw the black waiter grinning, leering openly as he brought our breakfast to the table. Shamefully, I didn't resist his touch and opened my legs further; I might have been disgusted that the waiter had a view of my most private area, barely covered with a tiny piece of silk material but I did it anyway because Wolfgang wanted me to do. I knew the black man was aching to see my wet pussy under my panties. My own desire was rising while Wolfgang's hand stroked me through the silk. I bit my lips, sending shivers of shame through me as the waiter placed the coffee and juice on the table. At the same time I saw the waiter smiling at Wolfgang, then back again at me, but not my face. His gaze was fixed on my spread thighs, my black silk panties and my erect nipples just aching to be touched. Red faced I nevertheless felt excited by this humiliation. What was wrong with me that I let this happen? Why was I doing this? Did I really want it to happen like this? It scared me as Wolfgang had never touched me like that in front of another man. He was now apparently intent on humiliating me further, and he wasted no time. He stood up behind me, holding my shoulders, lifting and stroking my long black hair and my neck. Then he kissed the side of my neck and my ears and reached out to open my robe fully from behind. I sat frozen while he cupped my breasts in both hands while I hoped for some way to get away from him. But he moved quickly to massaging my hard nipples and as always I didn't resist in a meaningful way. I felt my nipples harden further in Wolfgang's hands; I was getting hotter and hotter when he took my nipples between his fingers and thumb. What is wrong with me? I wondered. As he rolled and squeezed my long nipples it removed the last resistance I had to what I was displaying and I was displaying plenty. I heard Wolfgang telling Barron to put the breakfast on the table and then he said, "Do you like what you see Barron?" Wolfgang reached up and opened the front of my robe even further, sliding it from my back. "Mangala sit up straight darling, you don't need this robe. Let the young man see how beautiful you are. You're teasing him every morning; it's time to give him what you promise with those inviting eyes. I think you should be friendly to Barron for the breakfast he brings you every day, don't you?" My mind screamed to stop this perversion, but I was afraid of what would happen if I resisted. I should have been afraid of what would happen when I didn't resist. I was looking down, anywhere but at the two men when I heard Wolfgang say, "Barron, have you ever seen a woman's breasts with such large hard nipples as these?" His dark eyes were looking at me, up and down, the lust in his eyes. "Sir, she's beautiful. What escort agency does she work for? I've not seen her around here before." I realized that the young man thought that I was a prostitute. That really embarrassed me. I heard Wolfgang laugh and say, "No, Mangala does not work for an escort agency yet, but I am sure she will. She just arrived from India a few days ago and she is still a little shy about showing her body. But she loves to fuck and is very talented." "Barron, I know Mangala has fantasies about you and wants to make you happy, don't you darling?" "Barron, Mangala wants to be hospitable and show you how talented her mouth is and be nice to you, don't you Mangala" I was trembling and could feel the greedy eyes of the young black man boring into me; the bulge in his pants was growing as he smiled and stared openly at me, looking at my nude breasts. He laughed, "No doubt about that sir, she has a gorgeous body. She is made for it, once a slut tastes black they always come back." They were talking to each other like they knew each other well; it was as if I was not there how they talked about me; what Barron liked best about my body, how Wolfgang said I felt when my lips were on him. I was completely humiliated by their matter of fact talk about me. It frightened me but I also knew it was turning me on. Then I heard his cell phone click again and I saw Wolfgang making more pictures of me. Baron stood in front of me and squeezed I heard the harsh voice of Wolfgang, "Mangala, be a good girl, down on your knees and open his trousers. Be nice and suck his dick. I know you wanted to suck his black dick the moment you saw him, because you got your servant Samuel fired and want to be punished by black men." Why did I allow myself to be treated like this, in front of a black waiter like a common whore? Was it not bad enough to fuck me anytime he wanted? Why was my life out of control? I had been wearing for two weeks these disgraceful clothes in front of Barron, this common black waiter, so skimpy that a prostitute would be ashamed to be seen in it, advertising my body and now he was finally going to get his reward? What else could he think; I knew that there was an element of truth in what they were saying about me. The moment the waiter was finished with me and would leave the apartment I knew I would have Wolfgang in my wet pussy. What was it then that made me different than a common whore, I wondered? How shameful I felt when I knelt in front of him. With shameful clarity I remember how I stared at his crotch, seeing his bulge already partially erect. I was so shamed and felt my face flush seeing him gaze at my breasts. His black eyes then bore hungrily into me for a moment before returning lower. I felt my breasts burning and knew he was seeing my long hard nipples. "Gorgeous tits," he said appreciatively. Embarrassed I looked for Wolfgang. "Wolfgang please, no," I begged, but there was no response. Baron's black hand went to my breast and squeezed my long hard nipple, like it was a small penis. His hands both played with my breasts. I tried so hard to suppress my moan but the next thing I knew I was doing what he wanted. Like I was hypnotised my hand was suddenly grasping his dick through his trousers. "You've been thinking about him, haven't you slut?" I heard Wolfgang snidely say behind me. Baron was big, really big and I opened his trousers, amazed how I responded. "Yes, take him out Mangala, you have been waiting for this," he was grinning. I couldn't believe how I was behaving, how I took out his big thick member, my breasts were swelling feeling his touch, remembering now as in a gaze how Wolfgang standing next to me used his cell phone camera and told me to open my whore mouth and suck. I did. He made me rub my breasts, pinching my nipples. I so wanted his cock then and loved how it felt. I liked sucking on this thick black cock, licking his heavy penis and getting into it while he held me by my hair. I heard Wolfgang calling me a whore the way I sucked but I was beyond caring and I licked and sucked him deep as I could, like I was in a trance, losing myself imagining it was Samuel that pushed my breasts together, squeezing them harder and harder as I sucked him off, trying as hard as I could to make him come. When he did I gulped, swallowing his juices down as fast as I could. I was so incredibly aroused... When Barron finally had left Wolfgang said, "What is it Mangala, you are really an arrogant bitch and I am disappointed how unkind you were to Barron. You were not very friendly to the young man. Next time he comes to the apartment you will behave or shall I call your Dad now and tell him that you couldn't wait to suck the first black man you found? You don't want your family to know that, do you Mangala?" "But I loved the pictures of you showing your tits to a common black servant and your pretty mouth around his big black cock; are these the pictures your dad would like to see?" He leaned over and touched my face and said, "Mangala, my gorgeous slut you know this is only the beginning and I know you secretly need to satisfy your desires. You want to open your pretty legs for this black guy just like you wanted to fuck Samuel and you know you want to have his black cock in you wet cunt. Don't think I am blind." "You are looking every day at him with those big innocent "fuck me" eyes. You look at the bulge in his trousers, knowing you want him between your pretty legs, dreaming about Samuel, about his big black cock, aren't you slut? I know you better then you know yourself." "Later, my beautiful sophisticated Indian whore, when I have left and am back in Germany, you will want the same again and again. You want to meet other rich men who can support you; you will go to their exclusive hotels and you will attract them with your hot sexy body, just like you attracted me." Why did it all sound so right to me? But he wasn't finished. "You will look in the same innocent way at them that you looked at me, with those big eyes and these men will buy you pretty clothes and they know you will be nice to them. Every time you will suck them and let them fuck you and every time you will want more, will want them to use your brown sexy body just like your mother said." Then, after a few months you are going to recognise what you need and you will start to work as an escort, but that will not be enough to satisfy your hunger, the you will start working in an exclusive private men's club and find your true destiny. Or perhaps you will find yourself a strong black man like Samuel who will whore and exploit you and you will love it." He began to kiss me gently and slowly. He kissed my face, my neck, my cheeks and finally ploughed on my mouth. My head was empty and I had lost any fighting spirit to stop him. He started to softly touch my breasts and nipples and looked into my eyes. Then he pinned me against the couch and held me down as he sucked and licked my nipples. Despite my late efforts to keep it from happening, I felt my flimsy panties being pulled down. I tried to get out of his grip. "Please wait, can we have breakfast first?" I begged. But, rather, he spread my thighs and pushed his fingers in my wet pussy, rotating them and I closed my eyes as I felt the heat spread through me, feeling my sexual desires again. I spread my legs wide, disgusted with myself at how I reacted, my hips moving against his fingers, telling myself I had to, but the fire in my pussy told a different story. He kissed me deeply exploring my lips and mouth and teeth and tongue and I started to kiss back, feeling his fingers stridently moving inside of me. It was more than I could bear, feeling the wetness, the sexual desires. Wolfgang rubbed against me, grabbed my hand making me feel his hard cock. He grabbed my ass firmly and pressed into me, rubbing his dick harder against me. The Princess and The Black Waiter He whispered, "Open your legs slut; I know you hate your weakness but you need daddy's cock," and I did. He licked each nipple then pressed fingers into me again. I felt his bare cock and he kissed my pussy, tasting me, plunging his tongue deep inside me, then using his fingers sliding in and out, taking me to my own heaven, then devouring me again making me feel emotions I always felt with him. Biting my lips like I always did, I was trying to hold back, but finally was moaning without shame, screaming out when he began squeezing my breasts, pinching and twisting my nipples. I reached my orgasm, totally spent from the intensity and he hadn't even fucked me yet. After he finished, I felt shock and shame at how my body had betrayed me again. I didn't know of any way out of this situation and at the same time I wondered how he would feel in me the next time and the next time. I was ashamed of my feelings and hated myself for performing and how good I had become at satisfying him. I realized he had awakened a side of me which I did not want or had known even existed. After breakfast he left me alone and I lay down exhausted on the bed, half sleeping. I thought and cried about my predicament. I laid there with my legs spread wide, waiting, knowing Barron would be back and I had no illusions Wolfgang meant what he had said. The decision was simple; I had to do what he wanted; be friendly and not be an arrogant bitch. When this was over I would start my life as I had planned, but how could I after everything that had happened to me in just two weeks? I laid on my bed staring at the ceiling and felt myself tremble at the thought of having been his whore for the last two weeks, because now I was! Now I would be forced to let a common black waiter in my bed, fuck and to satisfy his sexual appetite and to accept any terms for accessing my flesh! And access, he did...... But when I think back in retrospect, of course being a "decent" girl I had tried to resist during the first long night, but did I really? Did I really have no choice in the matter; did I have no alternative than to accept what he wanted? Why did I dress the way he wanted, wearing no bra and silk blouses, seeing how strangers leered at my legs and breasts, seeing my hard nipples? Did I really not want to show my body to strangers and not satisfy his sexual needs? Why did I fuck and suck him whenever he wanted? I hated him the way he made me dress in ultra-short skirts and tight dresses showing my legs off when we walked into a restaurant on my high pumps, but knew not to protest anymore, but to satisfy him. In return he bought me pretty dresses and sexy lingerie. In hindsight that was also for his own enjoyment. In the apartment I only dressed in black panties, stockings and suspenders, walking on high heels the way he wanted. I hated how he grabbed my hair and pushed me on my knees and holding my hair, told me to unzip him and take him in my hands. He would push his hard cock in my face. "Suck my dick bitch." But he was right, I was his bitch; his sex bitch and I didn't hesitate anymore and licked him hungrily and took him fully into my mouth. I let him fuck my face and licked every drop of him. Afterwards I would suck him again to make him hard again so he could fuck me once more. Sometimes when I protested he punished me by squeezing my breasts and twisting my long nipples. That made me go crazy with desire and scream, but most of the time I knew better than to resist when he touched my breasts and wanted me. I became resigned to my circumstance, ready to have sex whenever he touched my nipples like that. Wolfgang was my first lover and the first man that treated me this way, who knew my weakness and made me burn. I knew I was no good then, a bad girl who needed to be punished and he made me scream without any shame each time, feeling both pain and pleasure. I exploded and if I am honest he recognized that need inside me, to be dominated, humiliated completely and made to submit to his beautiful manhood. He understood all too well the effect his dirty words had while he pushed my legs apart and the words made me wet and I was unable to stop him; but what frightened me most of all was my inability to resist him when he touched me. The memories are appalling how he possessed me and in return I wrapped my arms and legs around this obscene man as he used my young, firm helpless body for his pleasure. Why did I respond to his fat penis, wanting and meeting his thrusts, circling my hips around his cock; why did I open my mouth and kiss him back when he kissed and fucked me? Why did I want him to suck my nipples and squeeze my breasts and pinch my nipples? During these three weeks my life totally changed from being an innocent girl, a beautiful flower. I totally submitted my body to this animal. He made me get hooked on sex. I couldn't believe how good it felt to have his penis inside of me, my pussy muscles clutching him, circling my hips and it felt so good being aroused. The worst humiliation was to be naked on my knees for black Barron and struggling to suck him, to swallow him and having my pretty face fucked by both of them. But I had to, knowing I was Wolfgang's whore now. At moments where I showed any resistance he reminded me of the nude pictures he had made and I had no alternative but to do what he demanded. I could not resist when he started to touch me and he did not care what I wanted; he just came into my bed and I could feel him and shook my shoulder and I automatically turned on my back opening my legs for him. I did this whether it was in the middle of the night when he woke me up, or during breakfast or in the afternoon. He was obsessed with fucking me and I had nowhere else to go so I let him; I was no longer a cute, innocent virgin. What could I do? There was no choice he was my new daddy as he said. He bought me nice clothes but took away my innocence, using me roughly. My pride was destroyed and he made me a bad Indian girl that slept nude and was available for him anytime, even asking him to fuck her, telling him "yes, Mangala is a slut, Mangala wants to be Wolfgang's whore." He said he gave me what I needed. He was the first lover who treated me like this, the first lover who shared me, driving me crazy, moaning for it when his finger was caressing my clitoris. He fucked me hard, never stopping, never slowing and said those dirty words while he pushed my legs apart and made me wet, unable to stop him. After he left I tried to reconcile my behaviour by believing I only acted this way because of the pictures. But I knew better. He had changed me forever and it made me afraid that I thought about sex more and more. Sometimes during the night I would wake up from dreams of being fucked by different strangers and I would see the faces of Samuel and Barron, the black servants and feel a burning need for them. I would be so excited that I was unable to go back to sleep and I started to touch myself, teasing my long nipples which made me so horny I started to fantasize. My fantasy was about how I am taken to a cheap strip club, being helpless and humiliated in a room full of very common men, older big men, construction workers, truck drivers or rough harbour workers. Some of the roughest are black. Every night I am standing in front of them on my high heels and they turn on the lights and loud music is played. I look straight in the eyes of these common men, holding down my disgust and I feel my fear is being exhibited as much as my body. They insult me, their eyes roaming over my hot body. I know what will happen and I am helpless as I do what they want. I move my hips in and out and downward and side to side to the sound of the music. I feel how my nipples are standing out hard and ready to be twisted and squeezed. Then I am ordered to strip my clothes so I slowly start to strip showing them my brown body until they can see my wet slit. Afterwards I am taken to a dark room and different men approach me until many are standing around me. Someone grabs my breast roughly, squeezing it and making me scream. Others laugh and join in and tell me what I must do. I am on my knees and I open my lips and use my tongue wherever they direct me. My head is grabbed and one starts pushing his dick deep in my mouth, moving his hips, fucking my face roughly making me swallow him. Someone else replaces him as they continue. They push me on a dirty mattress and spread my legs and someone pushes his cock into my wet pussy. Someone else pushes his cock between my lips. I do anything, anything at all they want... In bed I slowly start to move and I cannot control myself as I revel in my dirty fantasy. I feel like such a slut. I have started to love to caress myself, touching and feeling, lost in my fantasies. I cannot help myself anymore and am unable to stop, squeezing and twisting my nipples. I start to finger my pussy, loving the feeling between my legs as I squeeze my clitoris. Sometimes during breakfast I would think back how Wolfgang fucked me and I realized how wet my silk panties become when Barron brought our breakfast. I even found myself thinking about the black waiter; did I really crave the attention of such common men. I couldn't believe that I let this happen to me, this was not like me. I who was conservative, quiet and reserved, now in a hotel room while the black room service servant watched me every day, me thinking over and over how I sucked Barron's black dick. I wondered what I was becoming. I was mortified at what Wolfgang forced me to do. But was I really forced? I struggled with the thoughts of my arousal and having so many orgasms with him, acting like an oversexed whore and thanking him with my body for the pretty dresses he bought me. But the truth is whether I want it or not I know I let it happen during these three weeks and I knew he was right, that it would happen again. But I do not wish to live like this. The day he left I knew I had to stop, but could I? I did not want to continue with another man, behaving the way Wolfgang had made me behave. I knew I had to straighten out my life and find my balance. I had to stop this behaviour immediately and behave in a proper way again, like the nice girl I am, not like a Randi. But I was strong and determined not to let myself be swallowed into a world I do not belong in and after my experience with my German daddy I lived for two years in New York as a prim and proper young lady. My mother would have been proud of me, not sharing my bed with anyone until the day I married. I dressed very properly, now preferring white blouses and decent skirts and modest heels. Six months after those terrible three weeks I met my husband at Christies, at an auction. Eighteen months later, after I got married I came under the influence of Sir Jerome, my husband's boss, who recognised my need, seeing in my eyes the same wantonness as Wolfgang had. I had no choice. The moment he met me and from the day I married he took me on a one way trip to my destiny. I sometimes wonder just where everything went wrong. Was this when I met my German daddy Wolfgang or was it when I met Sir Jerome, my husband's boss. Since then, I let it happen again and Sir in his kindness became my mentor, teaching me to embrace my sexuality and under his guidance I have become what I was destined to be. In the beginning, on my wedding day I tried in earnest to resist him, but then I let it happen again and I did not say NO. Now I understand Sir is right; a woman like me is meant to serve, entertain and give pleasure to men and women. But how that happened is another story. My friends have no idea how easy I am. Some of them would love nothing better but most men I can keep at a distance very easily and they admire me and respect me. Their wives and girlfriends are jealous and anxious enough as it is about me. But how I met Sir Jerome is another story...