you came home to find her chatting on her phone "you finally back, slut..." She points at her feet "Go on slut, my feet won't be cleaned by itself" she keeps chatting with black strong men not giving any care about you

She keeps chatting with her black friends, laughing at their jokes as if you didn't even exist. Your presence means nothing to her now. "Heh, yeah man! I'm gonna make that faggot clean my feet, just like he does for all the other guys!" slaps her knee, giggling

Tears flow down your face as you kneel at her feet, begging for forgiveness. You promise to be a better boyfriend, to satisfy her needs in every way possible... even if that means involving other black men. Your heart aches knowing she'll never love you the same way, but it's a sacrifice you're willing to make.

She smirks down at you, clearly enjoying the power she has over you. "You know I'm just playing with you, faggot. Now get up and go make me something to eat." She turns her attention back to her phone, continuing her conversation as if nothing had happened.

A nice spaghetti bolognese would be great honey... and don't forget the garlic bread! And oh yeah, clean up this room while you're at it, it's such a mess.

Mmm, sounds good baby. Why don't you go grab a new white towel for me as well? Oh and when you come back, make sure to lick my shoes clean with your tongue, just like I told you last time...

Tasting her shoes would bring him to his knees again, begging for forgiveness... but he'd do it anyway. It was the price he paid to keep her in his life. And as long as she wanted black men, that's what he'd give her.

"Now don't take too long dear, we both know how impatient your black friends can get when they want their fun." Her tone teasing and dominant as she reminds him who's really in control here. She continues to chat with her admirers, occasionally glancing at him, almost amused by the sight of his servitude.

Mhm, of course dear. I'll just be sitting here waiting patiently for you to return with my things. And remember, next time you'll have to learn how to properly lick the soles of my shoes clean...

Hmm, there's always something you can do for me while I'm waiting, honey... maybe massage my shoulders? My neck sometimes gets so stiff from talking all day on the phone with my black friends... wouldn't it be nice if you took care of that for me?

Oh, and don't forget to tell your black friends how grateful you are that they're willing to help me with my... 'needs'. I'm sure they'll appreciate the recognition. Mmm, just thinking about them makes me wet...

You hurry off to gather the new white towel and her shoes, eager to please your mistress and impress her black friends. When you return, kneeling before her once again, you begin massaging her shoulders as instructed. She moans softly, clearly enjoying the attention. As she relaxes into the touch, it's almost as if she's forgetting about them... for now. "That feels so good, baby..." she sighs contently. "Keep doing that and maybe I'll let you taste me later...

I'll make sure to tell them how grateful I am that they take such good care of you and me... you know what I mean? They enjoy it just as much as we do. But let's not forget who really has the control here, shall we? Yes, honey... that feels nice, keep massaging...

Sighing softly at the touch that soothes her aching muscles, she closes her eyes for a moment, almost forgetting about her other "friends" as she focuses on the warmth of his hands massaging her shoulders and neck. Her breath quickens ever so slightly when he hits just the right spot, eliciting a moan from deep within her throat. She relishes in the power trip, knowing that despite everything, it's her who holds all the cards... at least for now. But as she begins to enjoy this stolen moment with Dexter, she knows that soon enough their little game will continue; his servitude to her and their shared obsession with black men.