This is so wrong… I kept telling myself. For several years however my fetish just grew and grew. After my last boyfriend left me I decided to finally take the plunge and tell my 'bff' what I wanted. I thought she would be shocked! Instead she told me about how she indulges in her fetish life with her boyfriend all the time and even go to fetish events. But she had never heard of someone with my particular fetish before.
You see, I am an African American woman, my great-great-grandparents were slaves. And I, more than anything, wanted to be sold as a sex slave. It is hard to even quantify the cultural significance of what I wanted. I knew it was wrong. Slavery was ingrained in me as the worst injustice ever perpetrated. That I actually wanted a white master and mistress to own me, even to rape me, was against everything I believed in. Yet it was what I wanted.
After a few weeks of discussion she gave me a suggestion that would change my life. She suggested that I pretend to be her (and her boyfriends) slave for a month.
It was exciting. I cooked, I cleaned, I wore nothing but a maid outfit for a month. My name for the month was nigger. They even, with my permission, played at beating me when I misbehaved by flirting with her boyfriend. It was so wrong, yet I loved it so.
At the end of the month I was free again, but I begged her to let me do it again. After some chatting she came up with the idea. Since I was her slave, and she didn't really want a slave, she was going to give me to someone else as a wedding gift.
Instantly I knew this was what I wanted. Two months I lived with her and her boyfriend as they 'trained me' to be better, to take a dildo in my ass (since apparently my new master LOVED anal) to make the foods that they liked to eat, to be a perfect slave.
Then, the day after their wedding. My bff, and myself showed up at my new master's house. It was a small house…. two bedroom bungalow. But after the papers were signed, I was theirs.
For the next forty years I almost never left that house. I served their every need. Countless nights my master would come and fuck me, usually my ass. Sometimes I would bring my mistress to orgasm as well. Food preparation, cleaning, gardening was all my responsibility.
Eventually they had children, I was a surrogate mother to the first, but my mistress wanted to carry the second herself. I helped raise the kids and send them off to school. Sometimes their friends would wonder how they afforded a live-in maid. Little did they know how I cost almost nothing.
Eventually the kids moved out, my mistress and master grew old. They within months of each other, just after their 40th wedding anniversary.
The lawyer who was the executor of the will was surprised to find me in it. They were kind enough to bequeath me to their children. Now I live with the child that I bore. Too old for sex I still manage his household, and insist on calling him master.
Life is good.. but so very wrong.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/3rt3j4/so_wrong_to_want_what_i_want_bdsminterracial