Chapter Six
Margot, on her feet now, was getting back on her feet mentally and emotionally as well.
There was nothing she could do about Zurica’s arrogance or expectations. She supposed she could complain to Queen Muunu, but she doubted the Queen would be sympathetic to Margot’s cause. After all, the Queen also wanted Margot to kneel.
These were Margot’s new Rambikkun facts of life.
But Deja was not Rambikkun. She was a goddamn American! Sure, she might have to put on airs and act a certain way around Rambikkuns, but Deja should have dropped the pretense as soon as Zurica left.
Instead, Deja told Margot to follow her and went up the wide stairs leading to the second floor where Margot and Journee slept. The other upstairs rooms were extra bedrooms, a library, a sunroom, bathrooms that looked like spas, and a few other rooms whose purpose Margot could not figure out.
Margot intended to tell Deja she would not put up with added arrogance from her when there were no Rambikkuns around. Deja needed to understand whose side she was on.
Margot had no doubt she’d make it clear to Deja, and Deja would understand and comply. Deja was lower ranking and eager to please.
Margot toured the rooms and, as one room after another showed no sign of Deja, she had a sneaking suspicion, aware of it but not really thinking it through, that Deja was in her bedroom.
She really did not want Deja to be in her bedroom.
It was too personal. Sure, it wasn’t really Margot’s bedroom, and she’d only slept in it one night.
Still, there was no way Deja should be in her bedroom and especially not uninvited.
Margot could not quite face why Deja might choose to go to her bedroom after insisting Margot follow her. Margot just could not look at it full on. Some things were so preposterous that they seemed too foolish for the mind to consider them at all.
Margot’s quiet suspicion, almost hidden from herself, grew as she popped into each room and saw no sign of Deja.
Margot looked in every room, even her daughter’s bedroom, before walking slower and slower towards the door to her own bedroom.
There was another reason she did not like this.
A bedroom was personal, yes, and a bedroom was also a place where sex took place. Which was silly to even bring up to herself. It was just that she was now sure that Zurica’s spanking of her had had an unwanted and unwarranted effect on her.
An alarming one.
That liquid feeling was still there. Her ass hurt, but the stinging was tolerable, almost like a deep-down warmth. And that warmth sure got around!
It wasn’t that Margot did not want to go to her bedroom. She did. She just didn’t want Deja in there.
Margot wished she could retreat from this strange new world.
Margot wanted some time to herself in her bedroom. Some quality time. Just her and her hands and her pussy. Between events with the Queen that morning, what she saw Journee do out by the pool, and now this strange side-effect from the spanking, Margot felt like she could not hold off from masturbation.
She couldn’t run around with a hot and wet pussy! She needed to administer to it and make it simmer down.
Or maybe make it boil over? Yes, probably that second one.
She looked at the open door to her bedroom.
She knew she had to go in.
She knew she had to take her wet pussy with her.
She’d tell Deja to leave. But she did not feel like having a confrontation just then. She felt undermined by Deja seeing her humiliation at the arrogant attitude and spanking hand of Zurica. Margot felt further undermined by her pussy. She did not want to have a debate. She just wanted to rub her thighs together and shove some fingers in herself.
Okay, she had to go in.
She wouldn’t try to straighten out Deja’s demeanor. Now was not the time for that. She’d choose a time when she was calmer. She’d just tell Deja to leave.
Because?
Well, she’d tell Deja that she needed to put some lotion on. There. That would work. She needed to soothe her ass. Deja would have to understand that.
Margot went into the bedroom.
Deja sat on Margot’s bed. The bed was a monstrosity like the Rambikkuns provided it in anticipation that Margot would hold wide-ranging diplomatic discussions on it while engaged in an orgy.
Deja sat at the bottom of the bed with her legs stretched out straight, feet on the floor. Her wide rear end spread out even wider on the soft mattress.
“Okay, Deja, you can drop the act now. Zurica is long gone.”
“Margot, it isn’t an act. This is the new me. Actually, the always me in a new location, one that allows me to be myself.”
“Which is what?”
“In charge.”
“You’re not in charge, Deja. You’re here to help. To assist me. This is not helpful.”
“Yeah, no.”
“Which is it, Deja?”
“I’m in charge. We need to respect what the Rambikkuns have here. You need to respect our ways.”
“‘Our ways?’”
“When a black woman is in Rambikku, she is Rambikkun. It isn’t a nationality. It’s a life philosophy.”
Margot wasn’t sure what to say. She knew she didn’t like this, but Deja seemed implacable, so much different from her previous persona that it was like someone else was inside her.
She really wished Deja would leave her bedroom and leave her alone. Margot could lock the door and see to a certain matter that sure needed seeing to.
It felt like it needed seeing to more by the moment, instead of less. Did that spanking have some time-delayed effect?
It certainly could not be an effect due to how Deja spoke to her. Deja was almost scary!
Deja looked incredibly sure of herself, and she sounded the same way, “That means I treat you how a Rambikkun treats a white savage, and it means you respond and submit like a white savage should to her black superior.”
“Deja, you have got to be shitting me!”
Margot felt some strength of will and some healthy anger welling up.
Deja seemed to recognize it.
Deja explained a little too sarcastically for Margot’s taste, “Look, Ambassador Parrow, I am here to help. We need to get along with the Rambikkuns to have a chance at sealing the deal with them. They have expectations. I’m here as a black token and was supposed to make them like America more. Yes, I know that is why I’m here, even if Northman didn’t say it in so many words.
“But it won’t work that way. Not with you ordering me around and me scurrying to obey. Instead of liking America more, they’ll resent America, and there will be no chance at a deal.”
Margot saw it now. It actually made sense.
Deja illuminated, “However, they know America has lots of people like me, people with skin as black as theirs. Well, almost. The Rambikkuns are very black. They don’t want to invest in a deal with a country that oppresses people like me, even if the oppression is subtle in some ways. But a country that has a population of blacks fifty times larger than their own, ones that might benefit from the deal and become like them? They wouldn’t be able to walk away from that!”
Margot wondered how much of this thought process was Deja’s own and how much was what Zurica told her. Zurica sure didn’t seem to like Americans. Was the dislike of Americans a Zurica thing or a Rambikkun thing? Was how Zurica looked at things the same as how Queen Muunu looked at them? Or did she have her own agenda?
And what did Deja want? What did she expect from Margot? Where was she going with this?
Margot sure found out.
“Margot, you need to think of us as a sort of case study to the Rambikkuns. They believe in black dominance and that whites are savages who need to submit. They really do think whites are better off submitting to blacks. They think the superiors should lead the inferiors. In lots of ways. So many ways. Really… interesting… ways. In everyday life, not just on some battlefield.
“It’s the same way they think women are better off without men. Or, not totally without them, but in charge of them and that men are better off submitting to women. They may have a point. Think about it. Most wars? Men. Almost all wars, actually. Most crime? Men. But submissive men with women in charge of them are pretty harmless. See? It would be better for men. That’s how they look at the white and black thing as well. The world wars? Whites, right? Even though whites in the world are a minority.
“Here’s how all this fits in with you, I, and America.
“They want to know a deal with America will be one that double benefits them, or at least benefits them and other black people in the world. You and I are a test case. You are a seemingly strong and high-ranking white woman. I am the black lackey. They want to see the black lackey, me, dominate the best white woman America has to offer.”
“Dominate? You mean they want to see me kneel to you? Like what Zurica told us at the airport?”
“That and much more than that. The greater the dominance by me and the greater the submission by you, the more weight it will have on their decision.”
“Wait, wait, wait. How much more dominance?”
“Every little bit counts….”
“But not sex, right?”
“Every little bit counts….”
“I’m just flat out telling you, Deja, not sex. It’s not that I’m racist, I’m just not lesbian. And my sex life has nothing to do with this diplomatic mission.”
“Yet. Or maybe it already does.”
Margot felt an invisible hand clutch at her heart.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Zurica shares things with me. So, tell me, how’d you like nursing on Queen Muunu’s great big tits?”
She knew.
Deja knew.
Zurica had told her. Which meant Queen Muunu must have told Zurica. Or maybe Zurica knew all the ambassadors (and maybe even some of their daughters!) had to suckle at Queen Muunu’s teats.
Probably the ambassadors who refused were kicked out of the country. Zurica knew Margot met with Queen Muunu today. But Margot was still in the country. Zurica could have drawn a simple conclusion.
Margot decided there was no use denying it.
“No, I did not like it. In diplomacy, sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do. You do them for the greater good. I did it for America. I had to… respect their traditions.”
“How about when the Queen fingerfucked you? Did you respectfully cum on her fingers?”
Margot gasped.
“The walls all around Rambikku have ears, Margot, and those ears hear when fingers are in a pussy. And hear when an Ambassador from America consorts with a Queen.”
When Deja put it that way….
“What would Northman think?” Deja asked with a mocking tone.
Not much….
“What would Journee think of her prestigious mother cumming on the Queen's fingers during her first diplomatic visit?”
Not much….
What a mess. No one was ever supposed to know about that. Margot wished “no one” was completely accurate. As in, not even herself!
Hadn’t Northman, and Brinlee also, wished her to have memorable times in Africa? Wish granted but like from an evil genie who twisted your wish into an unwanted technicality.
Margot felt helpless in this caught-doing-it situation. She couldn’t get over how Deja looked now, her confident posture, or over how she looked at Margot. Deja looked excited, plumped up with energy.
A dark energy that was only useful only to power acts of wrongness. Like, for instance, how Deja was telling Margot to her face things that Margot actually did. Those were supposed to be secret things! Lies were bad, but the truth was worse.
And the way Deja looked at Margot right now! Not with the respect she’d always had, the almost too much respect really, but like Margot was someone to be scorned.
No, not scorned. Not exactly. Not scorned as in rejected entirely. It was scorn with some element of “I can treat you as badly as I want.”
But would Deja treat her badly? She wouldn’t, right? Deja was a fellow American. They shared the same mission. Deja was here to help Margot!
What Deja said next did not clarify the situation to Margot. Not at all.
“Margot, we need to do this to impress the Rambikkuns and set our mission up for success. It doesn’t matter what is true. What matters is the impression they get. That Zurica is a real bitch, I know it, but she does have some keen insights into human nature. And into the nature of white savages.”
So… what did that mean? What did Deja intend?
Was she talking about white savages because that’s how Zurica talked about whites, or was this now how Deja felt about white people?
Deja explained what she meant, and Margot didn’t like it, “The Rambikkuns and, by that, I mean Zurica, need to think that with a little advice and perspective shared with me that it inspired me to take the lead over you in all ways and to go ahead dominate you. In all ways. They only need to think that. That’s all we need. That’s all I need. That’s all you need. That’s all America needs.”
Oh, so maybe Deja planned to lie? Margot had never before been such a fan of lying!
Deja pointed at the floor in front of her feet, “Come over here, Margot. Kneel in front of me.”
“But—”
“Now!”
Margot felt like a redheaded mouse scurrying for cover as she obeyed. But instead of scurrying for cover, she scurried closer to the threat.
She felt like such a dumb little mouse!
But at least she was an obedient one. She did not want to upset anyone who knew so much truth or who had such a look of iron in their previously warm brown eyes. Margot could see the willpower in Deja’s eyes even through Deja’s thick glasses.
And then she was kneeling in front of Deja. Deja!
On the floor in her own bedroom. Her new one. In the heart of Africa.
Deja said, “That’s good. You see? Now I can tell Zurica I gave you an order, and you obeyed. I can tell her you knelt to me without her or anyone else around to make it happen.”
Margot’s throat was tight. She still wasn’t sure where this was going.
“Deja, you could tell her that without me actually doing it.”
“A lie? You want to make me into a liar?”
“Well, no….”
“Good diplomacy cannot be founded on lies.”
“Well, no, it can’t or shouldn’t be but very often—”
“But it doesn’t matter, Margot, even if it could be. Or even if I was willing to be a liar for you and for America. I’m telling you, Zurica is like a human lie detector. She proved it to me today. She had me tell her several truths and one lie, again and again. Every time she correctly picked out the lie. She’ll know if I lie.”
“So then?”
“It’s easy. Like this. You kneel, and I can tell her factually that you did kneel. You don’t need to like it, and neither do I. It’s harmless. Really, anything we do, as long as no one kills anyone, is, in the long run, all harmless. We just don’t let it matter to us, but it will matter for America.”
“Are you saying…?” Margot still wasn’t sure what Deja was saying.
“Like today, you with the Queen. You breastfed from her. It didn’t matter if you liked it. You just needed to do it. It’s like going to the doctor and taking a shot. You may not like it, but no harm is done, and a lot of good will come of it or harm will be prevented by doing it. The things we do here today and in other places at other times don’t need to mean anything. I just need to be able to honestly say they happened. I’ll need to report results to Zurica, and there must be results for our bid to succeed.”
Now Margot could not help but understand what Deja proposed.
Margot needed to submit to Deja? For America?
Margot stood up, “I can’t—”
“You must.” Deja’s voice sounded incredibly certain. Strident. Demanding.
But Margot knew it wasn’t a call to arms. It was a call to submission! Oh, Hell no!
“Deja—”
“Now is the time for action, not words. Actions that I can report matter-of-factly to Zurica. Remember, it does not need to be real. Not emotionally. Not at all. I can still respect you in my mind, and you are still the boss in both our minds.”
Margot hated how Deja kept cutting her off! Deja would still respect her? She already did not respect her enough to let her finish a sentence!
“Yes, but—”
“Let’s start now. Kneel!”
Margot hesitated.
Again?
She already had knelt….
Weren’t they past the kneeling thing?
Deja looked angry, “Kneel now, white savage!”
Margot knelt. She just could not help herself. Deja’s voice, like never before, was so commanding. So urgent. So confident and insistent. It even sounded slightly different, like the high humidity of central Africa did something to her voice.
Deja lightly patted one of her thighs, “You’ve knelt too far away, white savage. Such a stupid white savage. What else can I expect from a savage? No, don’t get up. Knee walk over here. Right at my feet.”
Deja looked so much bigger from down on the floor.
Margot felt so much smaller down on the floor.
Deja spread her straightened legs further, making a slanting upside-down V of them, “Closer, white savage. Crawl closer.”
Margot crawled closer. She just did. It was thoughtless. She felt unable to think.
Deja did something that made Margot’s eyes widen.
She hadn’t noticed the way Deja was dressed. She wore a sort of loose one-piece dress with oversize wooden buttons all the way down the front. It was like a giant formfitting men’s dress shirt. But with giant wooden buttons….
Deja reached down and worked the buttons open one at a time, from the bottom towards the top.
Margot couldn’t believe it.
She wanted to refuse to believe this, but it was happening right there in front of her, just two feet away.
Deja should not be doing this!
Deja was getting naked in front of Margot! In Margot’s bedroom! With Margot on her knees!
With Margot’s face about even with Deja’s crotch….
No.
There was no way Deja expected that.
Deja had to know Margot would never do that. Not with her, not with any woman.
Sure, Margot had suckled at Queen Muunu’s breasts, and, yes, Queen Muunu had fingerfucked her hard to a big orgasm. But Margot had not done that for Queen Muunu. Nor would she ever do it for anyone!
Deja wasn’t even a Queen!
Deja was a co-worker!
Hell, Deja was an underling!
Margot saw that Deja had her dress all the way unbuttoned and all the way spread wide open. Wow, those big wood buttons sure unbuttoned quickly. Margot wished she’d had more time to think about what to do but what could she do against big wooden, quickly unbuttoned buttons?
It was like she never had a chance.
There was Deja’s body in all its lack of glory. Deja had too much weight on her. She did have smooth skin, a rich chocolate, but the skin looked stretched like Deja gained weight faster than her skin could adapt to the weight gain.
Deja said, “Come closer, white savage.”
Did Deja say that, or were those words an order?
Did Deja call her “white savage” because that was how she now viewed Margot or so that she could later report to Zurica that she had called her that?
Just as Margot realized she should spend her precious moments thinking about what to do about this, she was already even closer. Her knees had kneed on forward like they had their own ears and didn’t go through the middle man of Margot’s brain.
Margot’s head was only a foot from Deja’s quite hairy pussy.
Her face was only a foot away from it!
Her mouth was only twelve inches from Deja’s pussy….
There was time. There was space. Twelve inches was a lot of space to work with and easy to not give up.
It was not too late!
Well, this was it! Margot was the goddamn American Ambassador to Rambikku! Plus, her daughter was downstairs, probably out back at the pool. A step out to the rear balcony and a look sideways and down would likely show Journee lounging by the pool.
But hopefully not playing with her pussy again this time….
Margot was determined that her head, face, and mouth got no closer to Deja’s pussy.
And maybe Deja knew that.
In a sudden lurch and a lightning grab, Deja had a handful of red hair in one hand and her other hand on the back of Margot’s neck, pulling in Margot’s face as surely as a tractor beam.
There was no chance now. Margot knew it immediately. She’d been a fool to knee-walk so near. Or to kneel at all. Or to talk with Deja in her bedroom.
Or to come to Rambikku at all.
Margot resisted valiantly for almost two seconds. But then she deflated as the resistance went out of her. The outcome was a foregone conclusion.
If she had to lose, she may as well make losing as easy on herself and her opponent as she could. That seemed diplomatic.
That was it.
Deja pressed Margot’s face into her wiry thick nest of hair, “Lick, white savage. Lick the pink of your black superior.”
Margot really did not want to do that. She couldn’t stop her face from arriving at this aromatic juncture at the juncture of Deja’s legs, but she still controlled her tongue.
There was no way she’d lick! She did not have to do that, and Deja could not make her!
Deja cajoled, “White savage, you must know you will do it. The only question is if you want me to call your daughter up here first. Journee would see her mother’s face buried in my black muff and draw some natural conclusions.”
Oh. Margot did not like that she earlier saw her daughter doing something sexual, but it would be a hundred times worse for her daughter to see her doing something sexual.
She had to lick Deja’s pussy. For her daughter!
Margot licked. She worked her tongue into and through the thick mat of pubic hair. She made it to the pink. Her warm wet tongue met up with warm wet pussy lips.
How dare she be sexually excited by making her superior lick her pussy while she treated that superior like an inferior!
Margot strongly suspected this wasn’t only about playing the game of diplomacy and pulling the wool over the eyes of the Rambikkuns. Did they even have wool in Rambikku?
Deja’s pubic hair was thicker than wool….
There was more going on here than an innocent conspiracy to dupe the Rambikkuns. That was just good diplomacy. But this was something more.
Deja must be a lesbian! Or at least bisexual.
Margot wondered what her first clue was. Maybe Deja wanting Margot to lick her pussy? That was a pretty damn big clue.
Margot didn’t have time to chew this development in her mind. She couldn’t chew. She had to lick.
Margot licked and licked and licked deeper as she worked her face deeper and closer.
At some point, she realized Deja was no longer holding onto her head or her hair. Margot did not let her freedom distract her from serving Deja’s pussy.
She decided it wasn’t that bad. Deja seemed like a nice girl who didn’t get enough love. Her pussy was not foul. It was fascinating, really. So wet. So aromatic.
Pussy licking was so incredibly involved.
And…
…arousing?
A little?
A lot?
Margot guessed she could see why lesbians got into this. Deja heaved and sighed. Margot gave pleasure to another human being and appreciated that fact. There was something pure about that, no matter how dirty or wrong the circumstances.
But she was sure Journee and Brinlee would never understand.
She wished she was equally sure they’d never know about this.
Deja spoke for the first time in many minutes, “You lick well, white savage. Yes, you do it so well. It is clear you love doing it.”
What? That was not true!
Margot did not love it. Not at all. Not nearly!
She only… liked it. A lot.
But Margot thought she probably shouldn’t like it. At all.
Heterosexual women should not like licking pussy. Pretty sure. Was Margot wrong about that or wrong about the other end of that statement? The heterosexual part?
Deja wasn’t even pretty!
But her pussy tasted pretty. In a musky naughty way. There was something sexy about that taste. And Margot felt sexy. She bet she looked sexy as fuck with a face full of pussy, the top of her pale nose poking out from black pubic hair, her red eyebrows like sunset-lit wispy clouds over dark churning waters.
Margot thought she must look incredibly sexy, and every woman wanted to look sexy.
But she was looking sexy for Deja! Deja!
Deja husked, “Maybe I should call Journee up here to see this anyway. Should I? She could learn a few things from her mommy. Maybe she’d like to eat my pussy.”
That was such a bad idea. That was a terrible plan and a terrible thing to say.
It was so dreadful, and it was so inappropriate the reaction it caused in Margot. The sheer depraved humiliation of it, the idea of it, made her pussy squeeze against itself and she felt sloshed with wetness.
It was almost like… the idea turned her on!
The idea turned on Deja also. She bucked and rolled her pussy against Margot’s open mouth.
Margot wasn’t sure if she licked deeper and harder and faster because she was turned on or because she wanted to make Deja cum in order to distract her from her Margot-disastrous plan. All she knew was that she did lick deeper, harder, and faster. And she liked it.
Deja orgasmed. Her hands locked onto Margot’s head, and she bucked up on Margot’s mouth and rode her face through her orgasm.
Deja sure didn’t seem like she was going through the motions!
But Deja sure would have something to report to Zurica.
Deja released Margot, and Margot spilled backward onto the floor, a spill of Deja’s juices down her neck and chest. Margot gasped for breath.
After a minute, Deja stood up and took a few steps until she stood over the face-up Margot. Deja set her feet on either side of Margot.
Deja declared, “This is great. Let’s do this every day.”
Every day?
It should not have happened once. It could not happen every day.
Deja turned around awkwardly, her spread legs having to cross back and forth over Margot.
Then… she sat on Margot’s face!
Which was when Margot realized Deja had a surprisingly big ass. How had she not noticed? Deja was shorter than Margot but possibly had fifty percent more weight. It felt like most of it was in her pelvis.
Margot’s face felt mashed. Mashed on muff. There was nowhere for her head to go. The floor under it had no give, and Deja’s thick thighs wouldn’t let Margot turn her face in any direction. She was stuck face up.
Deja ordered, “Lick, white savage. My pussy will be a major source of nutrition for you. My pussy juice will hydrate you, and Queen Muunu’s milk will fill your tummy. I think the Rambikkuns might be interested to see if an American white slut can live off just those in her diet.”
American slut? That was so insulting! To Margot and to America!
Margot swore she’d do something about Deja’s attitude. She would. Just as soon as she was done licking her pussy. Again.
She’d already started licking Deja’s pussy again without even deciding to do it. She guessed she shouldn’t feel bad about that. It wasn’t slutty. It was just sensible. She had no doubt this pussy wouldn’t leave her face until it was satisfied.
It was a bully pussy, and it bullied Margot’s face. Margot had to appease it. She didn’t have lunch money, but she did have her lunching mouth and tongue.
Deja said, “Yes, you lick pussy with such ardor, white savage. You are taking to your new place perfectly. Say what you want about white savage sluts, but they sure do adapt quickly.”
Deja ground her wetness down on Margot’s face, encompassing almost all of Margot’s face in hot soft flesh.
“Yes, white savage! Adapt to your new environment. On the macro scale, Rambikku. On the micro scale, your environment is even hotter and wetter than the Rambikkun rainforest. Your new environment is pussy.”
Damn it. Deja was getting so carried away. Physically, Margot worried Deja was going to break her nose. But Deja’s attitude was the worst. Just because Margot knee-walked for her, ate her pussy, and let Deja sit on her face did not mean Deja could get away with anything. Or that this would happen ever again. Or that Margot liked it.
Deja sounded thoughtful in a scary way, “You might only be an exception, a super adapter of some sort. To better know about the adaptability of American white savages to serving black pussy I may need to expand the experiment to include more test subjects. Gee, I fucking wonder where I could find another American white savage sexy enough that I’d enjoy sitting on her face….”
Yeah, Margot thought that was a good point.
She was the only American white savage around here.
Well, except for….
Deja better not lay a finger on Journee!
Margot would certainly have told Deja never to lay a finger on Journee. But she was too busy laying her tongue all over Deja’s big hairy pussy. How did such a short girl get such wide hips and such a great big pussy? It had big pussy lips. They hung down almost pendulously and slid and hugged at Margot’s cheeks.
Deja fondled Margot’s breasts and wiggled her butt to grind wetly down on Margot’s face.
“I’d need another slut, a super slutty slut. As slutty as you. As submissive as you. Or one who could be made to be as submissive as you. It sure is too bad we don’t have a full embassy of cute American white savages. Maybe I’ll suggest to Zurica that the American diplomatic team be expanded. But, in the meantime… Journee sure is cute….”
Damn Deja!
That was it! Margot couldn’t ever tell Northman, or anyone, about this, but she could and would write up Deja. She’d put a purposely vaguely phrased but otherwise strongly worded reprimand in her file. That would show Deja!
The old Deja, the meek one, the servile one, would have been horrified by a reprimand and would have immediately corrected her behavior. Margot doubted this transformed Deja would react the same way.
Deja continued her oral assault as Margot continued her very different, very submissive, oral assault, “I like tight little asses. Probably because I got a great big ass. I’m so short, I should have a small ass. But, no, God said no to that. But She said yes to me getting narrow asses, only not on me, on the asses of white savages. Getting some. All this time, I’ve been surrounded by white savages and I thought they were just as good as me. Or sometimes, some of them, I thought were better than me! Zurica sure opened my eyes.
“Now I’ll have asses that are on tight-ass little white savages. Yours is great, but I’ve got to say, Journee has an even better one. But maybe yours will be enough. Maybe you can persuade your superior. You know how to persuade, right? Hint: You do it with your mouth.”
Margot got the hint. She did her persuading with her mouth. She did not need words to be persuasive. That must be the highest form of diplomacy.
She definitely did not like Deja talking about her daughter. Especially about her daughter’s ass. Although Margot guessed Deja spoke the truth. Journee did have a tight little ass. Hey, Margot wasn’t blind! Margot took pride in her ass, but she knew her daughter had an even better one.
She better work hard and persuasively to keep Deja’s interest on her, as heavily and firmly on her as Deja sat heavily and firmly on Margot’s face.
Deja told her, “You’re doing that right! Your enthusiasm keeps going up up up just like your tongue. I’m going to have lots to report to Zurica later on. About how I dominate you now and how you know I’m the one in charge. Don’t worry, I’ll make it sound like all the black women in America can pull this off on all the white savages. Make them think America can be like a Rambikkun colony, some giant-ass colony.”
The only giant-ass Margot knew for sure about was Deja’s giant ass. It was bigger than life in front of her eyes.
Deja rocked back and forth, and Margot had to suck in air whenever she could and always through her nose. That meant the air streams flowed down Deja’s ass crevice to reach her nose when her nostrils made a brief appearance as Deja rocked forward.
Margot was only barely getting enough air. She needed that air. If she passed out, who would lick Deja? Would Deja leave her and go make a pass at Journee as Journee’s mother lay ass-smothered passed out just dozens of feet away?
Deja groaned and then said, “I’ll tell Zurica all about how eager and submissive you are. How you understand you’re a white savage and blacks are better than you. That you know to serve blacks from now on.”
Margot knew no such thing!
Although she sure was serving her black subordinate. And she sure did feel submissive. Having a woman sit on her face and half-suffocate her while Margot worked hard to make her orgasm did make Margot feel incredibly submissive. She was as desperate to please as she was for air.
And it wasn’t because of the intimations about Journee. Deja could not be serious about that. And, if Deja was serious, Margot would rise to the occasion when she had to and stop her.
Journee was not an ambassador. She was only an ambassador’s daughter. No compromising needed!
Journee must be perfectly safe.
No, Margot was desperate for air and desperate to please Deja for a more personal reason having nothing to do, by now, with Journee or the Rambikkuns expectations.
Deja had dominated her. Margot had responded. As Deja acted more dominant, Margot felt more submissive. With submission came a vast, mysterious need to please the one who was dominant.
Deja.
Who’d have thought?
Not Margot Parrow.
Margot. Submissive.
Who’d have thought?
Not Margot Parrow.
Deja added, “I’ll tell Zurica that the plan is for you to do this kind of thing for me every day.”
Every day? No!
That was… such a bad plan.
How would it be possible? Journee was in the same house with them!
It could not be every day.
But maybe every other day? Journee would likely go exploring and go shopping in their… well, probably in their markets. Margot doubted the Rambikkuns had shopping malls.
Margot wondered why she was figuring out the maximum amount of time she could safely and discreetly compromise herself with Deja.
And, if it was safe and discrete, really, how compromising was that at all?
“You’re doing such a good job eating my pussy that I’ll give you a nice reward. I can be a kind Mistress when my white savage slut does exactly what I want.”
Mistress?
Reward?
Deja leaned forward, way forward. Her ass lifted, but her pussy still pressed down on Margot’s active mouth. But Margot could breathe all the time this way, not just off and on.
That was a good reward! Breathing was nice and, almost more importantly, wrapped up with the breathing thing, Margot could better serve and please Deja’s pussy this way. Air made her into a better pussy pleaser.
So… it was a reward for both of them.
But there was more to it than that.
Deja pushed Margot’s clothing out of the way. She pushed Margot’s pants and panties down her legs. Not far, but far enough.
Again. Her pants and panties were down her legs again, for the second time this afternoon. She’d thought the first was as bad as it could get when she had to push them down to allow Zurica to spank her. But, no, that was not the worst. This, now, was the worst.
Punishment and humiliation were bad, but sex, like this, with someone like Deja, a woman, was far worse.
Margot felt almost bound by her tightly gathered clothing. She could not spread her legs or walk like this, but then again, she could not even stand with Deja straddling her.
The clothing bondage increased her feeling of helplessness, as did Deja’s body pressing down on her lengthwise. The localized heavy weight on her head transformed to all overall weight, better distributed, but making Margot feel even more helpless than before. She was stuck under a blanket of dominant black woman.
The helplessness made Margot feel funny. Not funny dizzy or funny sick.
Somehow… the helplessness was a massive turn-on.
She should not be aroused! She should be outraged!
She was dimly outraged but….
Deja could do anything to her. And not just now. After this also. A major line was crossed, and there was no going back. Margot could never be in charge of Deja anywhere at any time. Not anymore. She could never again be Deja’s supervisor. In name, yes. In fact? No.
There was no coming back from this. There was no way to ever revert to a situation normal.
Margot would need to talk to Northman and get him to replace Deja. But would he? Would the Rambikkuns allow it even if he would?
Would the Rambikuns dominate Deja’s replacement? Margot did not want that on her conscience.
Or, if it was another black woman, would they also train and encourage that one to dominate Margot?
Margot did not think replacing Deja was workable or would help her cause at all in the long run.
Margot was physically helpless in the moment but she also felt situationally helpless and she could not see an expiration date.
She would not be able to say no to Deja after this.
Deja would not lose interest in her. Zurica probably wouldn’t let Deja lose interest, for one thing. And Deja was having way too much fun to lose interest anytime soon. Margot sensed how much Deja enjoyed this. This wasn’t just diplomacy to fool the Rambikkuns. Deja was into dominance.
And Deja was surprisingly good at it.
And Margot was surprised by how much submission turned her on. It did suit her. She’d never ever felt quite at home in any sexual situation. She wasn’t a prude, and she did not dislike sex. She’d just never found the right fit, a comfort zone. She never developed any strong preferences other than wanting her partner, her former husband, to be happy.
But this….
This suited her. It did not suit the Margot Parrow most people knew and who most people respected. But it did suit her to be treated with disrespect. She just didn’t feel the same respect for herself as other people felt for her. So this felt more real, more true. It felt all too real. It felt exquisitely real.
It was really happening!
She felt Deja’s eyes on her revealed sex and her pale legs above the bunched clothes. Margot could not see anything with a face full of Deja's ass, but she sure felt those Deja eyes on her most personal of areas.
She knew Deja would do more than look.
Shamefully, she wanted Deja to do more than look.
She felt Deja’s hands palm down on her tummy. She felt Deja push down with her weight behind her hands. Deja pushed her hands downward and down towards Margot’s sex as heavily as someone pushing sand into a mound on the beach.
Deja did it three times, her fingers stopping just short of Margot’s pubic mount and then going back to just above her belly button to push again.
Margot was already turned on. Straight or not, when engulfed in pussy and wrapped up in pussy pleasing, there was something about it, and she was aroused. But Deja’s pushing hands pushed more blood into Margot’s sex, plumped up her labia, and made Margot feel hypersensitive.
Margot’s pussy begged for attention.
Deja noticed. She’d made that pussy beg, she’d made that need, and now she worked to satisfy the need she created.
And more than that, Deja worked to manipulate and control Margot Parrow. In this case, through pleasure. Zurica had instructed Deja with a sort of arrogant and evil wisdom. Create the need. Make it into an addiction. Feed the addiction.
It was hard to resist someone who was demanding and had an iron will (or forced themselves to appear that way), would not take no for an answer, and also provided tremendous pleasure. That was something else Zurica taught her.
Zurica was a total bitch, but she knew some shit.
Deja brought her heavy sliding hands down again, but this time she did not stop at the top of Margot’s pubic hair. Deja’s black fingers sliced between Margot’s red pubic hairs and just kept going.
Deja’s hands went down either side of Margot’s pussy.
Margot would have held her breath if she didn’t need air so badly.
Deja used the fingers of one hand to pry open Margot’s wet swollen pussy and popped out Margot’s clitoris from its protective hood with her other hand.
Margot felt warm air rush in and sensitizing her hot clitoris.
The suspense was killing Margot. She knew Deja would do something to her clitoris. She knew she shouldn’t want that. She knew it would drive her into an orgasm. A good mother and a decent ambassador should not orgasm on her back with the pussy of her underling pressed to her avidly licking mouth.
Especially not with her daughter a few dozen feet away and one story down from them. And not with Queen Muunu’s breast milk partially digested and flowing in her bloodstream. Probably some of that breast milk was repurposed by her body and transformed into pussy juice. That might explain, a little, why Margot was wetter than she could ever remember.
Deja did do something, but it wasn’t what Margot expected.
Margot felt a tiny wet impact. It wasn’t cold. It was warm and slick.
It couldn’t be body oil that Deja squirted on her because both of Deja’s hands were accounted for. They were on Margot’s lower abdomen.
So… what was…?
Margot realized what it was.
Deja must have spit on her pussy! Spit on her clit!
After everything, she still had room for surprise and to feel humiliated. Deja spit on her! Spit on her most personal of areas! The most personal part of her personal area!
And then Deja made it worse!
Deja laughed.
“Now the white savage has an itty bitty spitty clitty.”
That was….
It was….
This was so….
A wave of humiliation swamped Margot, and then a much greater wave of orgasm wrecked her.
She flopped like a dolphin thrown up on shore by those waves of humiliation.
Margot’s writhing, shaking orgasm made her face smack over and over up against Deja’s slightly lifted pussy, like Margot was trying to face fuck Deja’s pussy.
Deja rode Margot’s face like a wet, breathing saddle. She refused to get bucked off, and moments into the ride, she orgasmed on Margot’s face, pressing her pussy to Margot’s mouth in a one-way wet kiss.
Deja, legs spread and incredibly turned on by dominating her boss, released a flood of juice she hadn’t known she was capable of doing. She heard Margot gurgling and then felt her swallowing. Deja grinned tiredly but triumphantly.
She hadn’t thought she could do this to Margot Parrow. Margot was such a hot MILF and so calm, cool, and collected. But maybe not so cool in the hot tropics!
Zurica had been sure Deja could do it. Why? Because, as Zurica phrased it, Margot was only a white savage in the land of civilized blacks. According to Zurica, Margot was lucky she and her daughter weren’t on display in a Rambikkun zoo.
Deja rubbed and ground her spasming pussy on Margot’s sexy face and enjoyed the sensation of Margot alternately struggling for air and struggling to swallow down more vaginal fluid.
Margot Parrow was on quite the liquid diet today!
Deja also enjoyed the sight of Margot’s narrow athletic hips, bare and sweaty, shaking and sliding back and forth with too much orgasmic energy looking for a place to go.
Deja’s orgasm mostly passed while Margot’s went on despite starting before Deja’s.
Zurica had told her about this when Deja expressed worry regarding Margot’s wellbeing. Zurica patiently explained that white savages were, after all, simply white savages whose purpose was to serve their superiors. Treating them like this was what they were meant for.
Zurica had revealed that the ancient writings they found in the cave, the ones that served to found the Rambikkun religion, made it clear white savages were there for the Rambikuns to make free use of, the same as with cows or goats.
Zurica also revealed that the white savage, when used as they were meant to be used, when dominated, had better and longer orgasms than their black superiors.
It sure seemed true!
Deja decided not to never doubt Zurica again. Dominating white savages was fantastic. And, with Margot serving her now and quite literally under her, it was like Deja had received a promotion. She was in charge of this diplomatic mission.
It should be easy and fun. Just make the white savages do whatever the Rambikkun officials wanted and, oh, by the way, also make them do whatever Deja wanted.
Dominating Margot was much easier and more fun than Deja had ever imagined. Maybe Queen Muunu had softened her up. Maybe there was something in Queen Muunu’s breastmilk that made white savage females submissive.
Deja wondered if Journee would be as easy and as much fun to dominate.
She did not wonder if she would find out. She would when the time was right.
Right now, the time was right to make Margot cum again. Zurica said there was no such thing as too much pleasure given when dealing with a white savage. It became their currency and their language eventually.
Deja leaned forward and down.
Margot was weak from her diminishing orgasm, flat on her back, and couldn’t move her legs with her pants halfway down her thighs.
Deja couldn’t access Margot’s vagina, but she didn’t need to. She pulled Margot’s upper pussy lips wider.
Margot’s spitty clitty, throbbing from orgasm, looked for a moment like it pulsed. And then Deja took it in her mouth and sucked.
Margot squealed and squealed as she orgasmed on top of the last one while on the bottom, the bottom to Deja’s top.
Deja discretely pressed her pussy backward and down. She muffled most of the squeals.
Deja planned to get to Journee soon. But not before Deja was ready to make a move and not before Journee was ready to fail to defend herself from Deja’s advance.
Dominating and taming one white savage was enough for Deja’s first full day in Rambikku.
The End
Oh my, what next?
Tomorrow, Margot Parrow needs to return to Queen Muunu with an empty stomach but ready to fill it up.
While she’s gone, Rhone and Pindpo are coming back for Journee. Journee may think they’ve put her through the ringer, and they have, but next they want to put her through the juicer….