Zara and Nia and the Feminists

You're walking through the crowded subway station during rush hour, trying to navigate through the sea of bodies when someone suddenly stops in front of you. Your forward momentum carries you forward, and you collide with something soft and substantial. Before you can register what happened, you feel a warmth against your groin, a perfect cushion that seems to mold against you for a split second before you stumble back, regaining your balance.

When you look up, you're met with the most intense pair of brown eyes you've ever seen, framed by long straight black hair that falls like a silk curtain around a face that could be carved from obsidian. Her expression shifts from surprise to fury in an instant. "Did you just...?" she starts, her voice a low growl that makes the hair on your arms stand up. Her eyes travel down your body and back up, a look of utter contempt on her face.

You notice her now—really notice her. The rich brown skin that seems to glow under the fluorescent lights, the full lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval, and the body that even in your moment of panic you can't help but register as extraordinary. Her breasts strain against the fabric of her shirt, and you realize with a jolt what you just bumped into—her ass, which is even more impressive than you first thought, round and full and perfectly shaped.

"I felt that," she says, stepping closer to you until you're backed against a wall, the crowd flowing around you both as if you're in a bubble. "I felt your dick through your pants rubbing against my perfect ass." Her voice is barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the station noise like a knife. "You men are all the same. Thinking you can just take what you want."

She places her hands on her hips, and the movement causes her breasts to shift in a way that draws your eyes despite yourself. "I hate men," she continues, her eyes narrowing. "I love women. But today... today I'm going to make an exception." A small, dangerous smile plays on her lips. "Today, I'm going to put you in your place."

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can't seem to form words. You want to apologize, to explain it was an accident, but something in her demeanor tells you that would be useless. She seems to be enjoying your discomfort, her gaze lingering on the growing bulge in your pants that you're helpless to control.

"You have no idea what I'm going to do to you," she says, her voice dropping even lower. "But it's already too late." She reaches out and places a hand on your chest, her touch sending a jolt through you. "I have every intention of putting you in your place beneath me." Her eyes flash with something—triumph, perhaps, or anticipation.

She doesn't do anything just yet, just stands there with her hand on your chest, her body so close to yours that you can feel the heat radiating from her. The scent of her perfume—something exotic and spicy—fills your nostrils, and you find yourself breathing it in despite your fear. "Don't move," she commands, and you find yourself frozen in place, completely under her spell.

Zara's eyes narrow as she considers her options, a calculating glint in their depths. "Hmm," she murmurs, tapping a perfectly manicured finger against her full lips. "What should I make you do first to properly put you in your place?" She steps even closer, her body nearly flush against yours, the heat of her seeping through your clothes. "Let me make something very clear to you, boy. You will do exactly as I say, or I will ruin you. This little 'accidental' bump of your pathetic cock into my perfect ass? I can frame that however I want. One scream, one tear, and you're the predator who assaulted me in a crowded subway station. Your life would be over before you could even blink."

She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, "I could mock that sad little dick in front of all my girlfriends, and I will. They'd love to hear about how some random pervert got hard from brushing against me. We'd laugh for days about your tiny, pathetic manhood." She pulls back, a cruel smile playing on her lips as she watches the color drain from your face. "But first... on your knees. You're going to worship this perfect black phat ass that you couldn't keep yourself away from."

Without waiting for a response, Zara hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her booty shorts and panties, pulling them down in one smooth motion. The fabric pools around her ankles, revealing the smooth, dark skin of her buttocks, perfectly rounded and impossibly firm. She turns slightly, giving you a profile view as she reaches back with both hands, spreading her ass cheeks to reveal the tight, puckered hole between them and the natural triangle of black pubic hair above.

Your dick responds instantly, hardening against your will until it strains painfully against the fabric of your pants. Zara notices immediately, her eyes flicking down to your crotch and back up to your face. "Oh, you like that, don't you?" she purrs, her voice dripping with contempt. "You're already hard from just looking at what you'll never have."

She turns her back to you fully, presenting her ass like an offering. "On your knees now and worship my ass with your tongue!!!" she commands, her voice echoing slightly in the bustling station, though no one seems to notice. "You deaf boy? Stick that pathetic ugly man face in my ass cheeks and eat my ass before I make you!!!" Her voice rises with each word, filled with a fury that makes your blood run cold. "I will ruin you so fast!!!"

Her hands continue to hold her cheeks apart, exposing herself completely to you. The scent of her skin fills your nostrils—clean, with a hint of something musky and entirely feminine. Your knees feel weak, both from fear and from a desire you're ashamed to admit even to yourself. The contrast between her anger and the intimate act she's demanding creates a dizzying confusion in your mind. You know you should run, should scream, should do anything but comply, but you find yourself frozen in place, trapped by her will and your own traitorous body's response.

Weeks have passed since that fateful day in the subway station, and you've fully settled into your new life as Zara's naked, collared pet. Your dick has remained untouched, perpetually hard yet denied any relief, while your tongue has become intimately familiar with every inch of Zara's perfect ass. She keeps you eating her ass like it's your favorite meal, and indeed, it has become addicting—the taste, the texture, the way she moans when you worship her properly. Today, the front door opens and Zara enters, her lips locked with another stunning Black woman whose curves rival Zara's own—gigantic tits straining against her top and a massive phat ass that seems to defy gravity. Unlike Zara's fierce demeanor, this woman carries herself with a sweet, gentle energy that immediately draws you in.

They move to the living room, their hands exploring each other's bodies as they strip away clothing piece by piece. You watch from your designated corner as they fall onto the plush rug, their bodies intertwining in passionate lesbian sex. The sight of their dark skin pressing together, their moans filling the room, their fingers and tongues exploring every curve and crevice has your dick painfully hard against your stomach. After what feels like hours of their lovemaking, they lie tangled in each other's arms, catching their breath. The other woman finally notices you, her curiosity piqued.

"Who's that?" she asks, her voice soft and melodic.

Zara laughs, a sound that's both cruel and delighted. "Oh, that? That's no man. Just a pathetic ass licker I put in his place a while back." She sits up, her breasts bouncing slightly. "Come here," she calls to you. "Show my friend what you're good for."

You crawl across the room on your hands and knees, the collar around your neck a constant reminder of your place. Zara positions herself on all fours, spreading her ass cheeks with both hands. Without hesitation, you bury your face between them, your tongue finding her asshole with practiced ease. You lick greedily, desperately, the way she's trained you to—worshiping her as if her ass is the only sustenance you need.

The other woman watches with wide eyes, her lips parted in fascination. "My goodness," she murmurs. "He really likes that, doesn't he?"

"Ever since I put him in his place, he can't get enough of my ass," Zara says, pushing back against your face. "It's all he thinks about."

The other woman's gaze drifts downward, noticing your painfully erect dick. "But what about...?" she trails off.

Zara glances back at your arousal. "Oh, that? I don't touch that. That's not for my pleasure."

"It wouldn't hurt to touch it," the other woman suggests, her voice tinged with sympathy.

Zara considers this, then looks down at you. "Would you like your dick touched for once?" she asks, her tone mocking.

You nod eagerly against her ass, not daring to stop your worship.

"Very well," Zara purrs. "Do a good job worshipping my ass and my girlfriend's ass, and I might touch your dick for once."

You continue licking Zara's asshole with renewed vigor, your tongue working feverishly to please her. After a moment, her girlfriend—whose name you now learn is Nia—positions herself beside Zara, presenting her own magnificent ass to you. You don't stop licking Zara, but you can feel Nia's eyes on you, can sense her desire to feel your tongue worshipping her ass too. The prospect of touching two perfect asses, of potentially earning the touch you've been craving for weeks, has your entire body trembling with anticipation.

Your tongue, exhausted but determined, finally withdraws from the heat of Nia's ass, leaving both women panting softly on the rug. Before you can even process the lingering taste, strong hands are on your shoulders. Zara and Nia work together, their combined strength effortlessly flipping you from your kneeling position onto your back. The plush carpet presses against your skin as you lie there, completely exposed, your painfully erect dick slapping against your stomach with the movement. You watch, your breath held in your chest, as they rise to their knees, two goddesses towering over your prone form.

Their bodies move in a synchronized, predatory dance. Zara and Nia shift, positioning themselves so their massive, perfect asses hover directly over your straining cock. They lower themselves slowly, deliberately, and the first contact is electric. The soft, yielding flesh of their phat asses envelops you, pressing your dick flat against your abdomen. They begin to move, a slow, grinding rhythm that sends waves of torturous pleasure through your body. Their ass cheeks slide against your shaft, the friction overwhelming your senses. Your hands clench into fists at your sides, the only movement you dare to make as you absorb the sensation of being smothered by their combined softness.

"Look at this pathetic little thing," Zara's voice cuts through the air, laced with contempt as she glances back over her shoulder at your dick disappearing between their asses. "It's so desperate for attention, twitching like that. You're lucky we're even giving it this much, you know."

A soft, contrasting voice follows. "Don't listen to her," Nia murmurs, her tone gentle and soothing as she continues the slow, deliberate grind. "You've been so good for us. Your body is just responding naturally. It's beautiful, really, how much you want this."

Zara lets out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Beautiful? Nia, you're too kind. It's just a pathetic, needy little dick, desperate for a pussy it's never going to get properly." Her words are a whip crack, but the motion of her ass against you remains maddeningly gentle. She seems to enjoy this duality, the physical pleasure mixed with verbal degradation. "He's just a toy, remember? A toy with a pathetic attachment."

"He's our toy," Nia corrects softly, her hand reaching back to gently stroke your thigh. "And he's been so patient. He deserves to feel good after all that hard work with his tongue." Her touch is a spark of warmth in the cold of Zara's mockery, a confusing blend of sensations that leaves you reeling.

The grinding stops as suddenly as it began. Zara shifts her weight, rising up slightly. "Fine," she says, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. "Let's give the pathetic thing what it's been begging for." She maneuvers her body with practiced grace, straddling your hips. You watch, mesmerized, as she reaches down, her fingers wrapping around your shaft for the first time in weeks. The sensation is so intense it's almost painful. She positions you at her entrance, the wet heat of her pussy a stark contrast to the cool air. Then, in one fluid motion, she sinks down, taking your entire length inside her.

A guttural groan escapes your lips as you're enveloped in her tight, wet heat. She doesn't give you a moment to adjust. Zara immediately begins to ride you, her body rising and falling in a powerful rhythm. She's facing away from you in reverse cowgirl, giving you a perfect, breathtaking view of her massive, bouncing ass. The flesh ripples with each downward thrust, a hypnotic spectacle that your eyes are glued to. Your hands, as if with a will of their own, find their way to her hips, your fingers digging into her soft skin as you hold on, completely passive beneath her powerful movements.

"Is this what you wanted, you pathetic ass licker?" Zara's voice is strained with effort but filled with derision as she slams down on you harder. "To finally feel a real woman's pussy on your worthless dick? You should be thanking me. This is more than you'll ever deserve."

Nia has moved to the side, her body propped up on one elbow as she watches the scene unfold. Her eyes are wide with a mixture of awe and sympathy. "Oh, you're so lucky," she whispers to you, her voice a balm against Zara's harsh words. "Look at that perfect ass bouncing on your dick. Not many men get to see a sight like that, let alone feel it. You're so lucky to be inside her."

Zara rides you relentlessly, her pace never faltering. Her hands are braced on your thighs for leverage, her back arched to showcase the glorious curve of her ass as it rises and falls. Each slap of her flesh against yours echoes in the room, a percussive beat to the symphony of her degrading words and Nia's soft encouragement. "That's all you're good for," Zara pants, her movements becoming more erratic. "A warm, wet place for me to get off. A pathetic little dildo I can use and throw away. Don't you dare think this means anything."

You can only lie there and take it, your body a vessel for their conflicting wills. The overwhelming physical pleasure of Zara's pussy gripping your dick, the visual feast of her bouncing ass, the sting of her insults, and the sweet comfort of Nia's reassurance all blend together into a maelstrom of sensation. Your world has shrunk to this moment, to the woman using your body for her pleasure while her girlfriend watches, a silent, willing participant in your complete and utter subjugation.

The relentless rhythm of Zara's bouncing ass pushes you to the edge. Your entire body tenses, a silent scream building in your throat as the pressure becomes unbearable. Just as you feel the first pulse of your orgasm begin, Zara slams down one final time and then, with a swift, cruel motion, lifts herself completely off you. Your dick, suddenly exposed to the cool air, erupts without warning. Thick ropes of cum arc through the air, splattering across the perfect, dark globes of her ass, painting her skin with your release. You lie there, panting and spent, your body trembling in the aftermath.

Zara doesn't move, simply remaining on her hands and knees, presenting her cum-covered ass to the room. "Look at this mess," she says, her voice dripping with disdain. Before you can process her words, Nia moves. With a soft, appreciative hum, she leans in, her tongue extending to delicately lap at the pearly fluid on Zara's skin. You watch, mesmerized, as Nia diligently cleans Zara's ass, her pink tongue a stark contrast against Zara's rich brown skin, swallowing every drop of your cum with apparent relish.

Zara glances back at Nia's work, then over at your still form. "There's a feminist party tonight," she announces, her tone casual as if discussing the weather. "I think I'll bring my new pet with me. Show all the girls what a properly trained man looks like."

Nia finishes her task, sitting back on her heels and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She doesn't seem to share Zara's enthusiasm for the party, her focus entirely on you, her eyes soft with a different kind of desire. "I want to ride his dick now," she says, her voice quiet but firm, cutting through Zara's plans.

Zara turns to face her, a look of genuine surprise on her face. "Nia, I know you're sweet, but you're a lesbian. You don't want that."

A small, knowing smile plays on Nia's lips. "You're a lesbian and you still rode his dick," she counters logically. "You call him a pet, a dildo. I should be able to do the same." Without waiting for a response, Nia is already moving. She swings a leg over your hips, straddling you just as Zara did. Your dick, still sensitive from your orgasm, begins to harden again at the sight of her voluptuous body hovering above you.

Before Zara can form another protest, Nia lowers herself, her wet pussy enveloping your recovering length. She sighs in contentment as she settles, then immediately begins to move. Unlike Zara's punishing rhythm, Nia's ride is slower, more sensual, a rolling motion of her hips that grinds her against you in a way that makes your toes curl. She turns, positioning herself in reverse cowgirl, giving you the same breathtaking view of her massive, phat ass as it begins to bounce in a hypnotic, steady rhythm.

Zara watches from the side, her arms crossed over her chest, a complex expression on her face. "Fine," she says finally, her voice laced with her customary mockery. "Ride the pathetic dildo if you must. Just don't forget what he is—a toy, a pet for us to use. His dick doesn't mean anything." Her words are meant to wound, but they barely register. Your entire world is focused on the woman riding you, on the soft flesh of her ass slapping against your thighs, on the stark contrast between her gentle touch and Zara's cruel disdain. Nia doesn't stop, her pace steady and relentless, her body moving with a singular purpose that has nothing to do with Zara's party and everything to do with her own pleasure.

Nia's ride is an endless, hypnotic wave of pleasure. Her massive ass bounces and jiggles with a steady, sensual rhythm that is completely different from Zara's punishing pace. It's a rolling grind, a deep, enveloping motion that seems to touch every nerve ending you possess. Your hands rest on the soft swell of her hips, not guiding, simply holding on as she uses your body for her own fulfillment. Her soft moans fill the room, growing in pitch and urgency until, with a final, shuddering cry, she slams down hard, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm. The feeling of her pussy clenching around you is your undoing. Just as you begin to pulse, she lifts off with the same swift expertise Zara had shown, and your second orgasm of the night spills across the beautiful, dark expanse of her bouncing ass.

Unlike Zara, Nia doesn't demand a tongue bath. She simply reaches for a tissue from a nearby box, her movements calm and unhurried as she meticulously wipes your cum from her skin. She cleans herself with a quiet efficiency, then rises from the floor. You watch, still lying prone on the rug, as she gathers her clothing and begins to dress. The spell is broken. Zara, who has been watching with a smirk, moves to your side, grabbing your collar. Nia joins her, and together, they drag you from the floor and toward the front door. You stumble along on your hands and knees, the collar a familiar weight around your neck, your body still humming from the twin violations.

The journey is a blur of city lights and muffled sounds from the back of the car they unceremoniously shove you into. Soon, you're being pulled out again, this time into a loud, pulsing space filled with music and the murmur of dozens of voices. It's a large, dimly lit loft, and it's packed with women. Every single one of them is a Black woman, and as you're led into the center of the room on all fours, a hush falls over the crowd. These women are all dressed with a fierce, unapologetic style, and as you're forced to remain on display, their eyes rake over you, filled with a mixture of contempt, curiosity, and amusement. The hatred is palpable, a thick fog in the air that makes your skin prickle.

"Well, ladies," Zara's voice rings out, confident and clear. "As promised, I brought the entertainment." A wave of cruel laughter ripples through the crowd. One woman, her ass a magnificent spectacle in tight leather pants, leans down and spits directly on your face. The warm saliva trickles down your cheek, and your dick, impossibly, twitches against your stomach. You notice it then—the room is a sea of incredible asses. Big, small, round, phat, all encased in various fabrics that do little to hide their perfection. Each time one of them shifts, or turns, or walks past, your body betrays you with a pathetic jolt of arousal.

"You will serve every woman here tonight if they demand it," Zara declares, loud enough for all to hear. "You are our guest of honor, after all." She gestures toward the far wall, where Nia is now standing, looking utterly amazed. Zara points to a large, handwritten sign that Nia is holding up for all to see. The letters are bold and mocking: "TRAINED MALE PET FOR SEXUAL SERVICES. FOR FEMINIST WOMEN ONLY. USE HIM HOWEVER YOU LIKE. HE ESPECIALLY LIKES EATING OUT PHAT ASSES."

The effect is instantaneous. The murmuring turns into a clamor of excited, predatory voices. A woman with an ass so large it seems to have its own gravitational field steps forward, then another, and another. Before you know it, a line is forming. A whole queue of big-booty feminists, their faces alight with cruel delight, waits patiently for their turn to "play with the pet." Nia stares at the growing line, her eyes wide with disbelief. "My goodness," she murmurs to Zara, "I had no idea so many feminists wanted to..." She trails off, searching for the right word. "...play." Zara just laughs, a sound of pure, unadulterated triumph.