black woman – The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi

Akito & Monifa

Five thousand years ago, deep in the wilderness of a region lost to time, two weary travelers approached a mythical land from different directions – one from the south and one from the east.

The first traveler is named Akito.

Trudging from a faraway civilization in East Asia, Akito last saw his family and village more than two hundred days ago. During that time, he’s had to hunt for his food, climb treacherous mountains, evade ravenous beasts, and endure storms so powerful he thought the winds would sweep him off his feet and send him to the heavens above. Akito is the bravest young man in his village. During the past year, unexpected flooding and unpredictable temperatures have made farming nearly an impossible task. Fearful that the village would starve to death and completely die out, the village elders made an incredibly difficult decision: They asked the inhabitants to select a volunteer who would travel on foot to a rumored land called Eden. Supposedly a vast garden full of fresh fruit, clean water, tamed beasts, and plant life to sustain an entire civilization, the elders believed Eden would unlock the secret to prosperity for generations to come…and ensure their culture would survive.

A representation of what Akito’s home could have looked like.

After a lengthy search process, Akito was chosen to embark on this perilous journey. He reluctantly agreed, tearfully saying goodbye to his kin, not knowing if he would ever see them again. Secretly, he believed he would not. No matter how much encouragement he received from everyone, he had no reason not to believe that this would be a one-way trip.

But off he went, into the vast unknown. Packing with him a modest number of belongings, Akito was determined to locate this fabled Eden. He could not fathom seeing his village crumble from within, which provided him with the necessary motivation for his risky journey.

“Do not fail us,” his father tearfully told him as Akito was preparing to depart.

“I will not. That’s a promise,” Akito responded. “Trust me.”

And with those words being said, Akito embarked on his path toward Eden.

After crossing several mountain ranges, raging rivers, and endless plains full of scant vegetation, Akito believed he would never find this Eden. He carefully followed a map drawn by an old traveler who claimed he once saw Eden in the far distance. Looking up at the stars as his trusty guide, Akito kept his faith through it all, determined to find his destination and save his people from extinction.

One day, more than six months after commencing his journey, he saw in the far distance an oasis in the middle of the desert. A single river ran through a patch of greenery at the bottom of an enormous valley. It took Akito several days to safely walk down the steep hill to get to the valley floor. A few times he almost fell to his death. He thanked his lucky stars that such a tragic fate did not befall him.

But here he is now, a few hours away from entering this oasis. Akito could see several tall trees bunched together, as if they were plucked from a dream. The soothing sounds of the river flowing toward the oasis calm him. Akito’s weary legs could not take him much further. He needs to rest. He wishes that this is the end of his journey. He does not know what he’ll do if this oasis is not the Eden that he heard so much about.

The second traveler is named Monifa.

Monifa hails from a civilization deep in the African continent. Unlike most young women in her hamlet, Monifa has not yet taken a husband and borne children. Instead, she’s found herself more interested in hunting prey, building houses, and protecting the residents from external threats. Everyone in Monifa’s hamlet considers her to be “the strange one,” a moniker derived from the nontraditional roles she successfully plays among her people. A tall, strikingly beautiful woman with a muscular, athletic build, Monifa feels much more comfortable working with her hands and risking her life to save others rather than taking care of children. She loves her young siblings with all her heart, but Monifa cannot comprehend caring for them all day long! She’d rather feel productive in the present instead of laying the foundation for the future. No matter how much her family tries to get her to find a husband, Monifa defiantly refuses to bow down to societal pressure. Despite this fire within her soul, Monifa still possesses a kind heart that wants to do what’s right.

A representation of what Monifa’s home could have looked like.

One fateful day, a mysterious stranger wanders into town. Cautious that it might be a spy sent by a rival clan, the townspeople surrounded the man to ensure he could not escape. The man, sick and dying of thirst, begged for nourishment. Monifa rushed home to provide the man with water, freshly cut fruit, and bread. After satisfying his hunger and staving off dehydration, the man explained to the entire hamlet about this place he saw in a dream: A garden called Eden. He described the place as having unlimited resources, a claim that made everyone laugh…except Monifa. For some unexplained reason, he believed this man deeply. Something about his story felt genuine.

Later that night, after everyone had gone to sleep, the man was sitting in front of the fire in the village square, occupied with his own thoughts. Monifa approached the man and asked if she could sit with him. The man agreed, pleasantly surprised by this young woman’s hospitality. They spoke for the next hour about many topics but mostly focused on this magical place called “Eden.” She wanted to find it. She felt destined to locate it. The visitor could sense her earnestness.

“Please, honored visitor, tell me how to find this Eden,” she asked. “I must know.”

The man wisely advised Monifa to “follow the north star,” which would lead her to Eden. The man then fell into a peaceful slumber, as if he had never experienced true comfort before in his life. The following day, Monifa decided to set out on a journey to locate this mysterious “Eden.” Everyone in the hamlet objected, especially her parents. They forcefully insisted that she not leave the confines of their hamlet, believing that she would inevitably die from this journey. After all, there are enemies on all sides of their town; enemies that would love nothing more than to kidnap her and turn her into a slave. Monifa reassured her family that she would not experience such an undignified end.

That night, with all the stars in the sky shining brightly, Monifa packed her things and walked out into the inhospitable jungle. With a sharp spear sheathed against her back, she confidently trudged forward, not knowing what the path forward would have in store for her. She believed, among other things, that if she were to successfully find Eden, the infinite resources of his land would help alleviate the tensions between the clans that inhabit her continent. This could be the end of war and suffering! Her days of guarding the hamlet against outside threats could come to a joyful end. The very thought of that possibility motivated Monifa to make this hazardous trip.

Like Akito, her journey to Eden was full of dangerous obstacles. Three hundred days later, hungry and sleep-deprived, Monifa looked over the horizon and saw a group of trees sitting in the middle of a wide valley. When she saw a lively river running toward the trees, she knew she had found it. It had to be Eden! This patch of territory could be nothing else but Eden, Monifa thought.

To be honest, Monifa could not bear the thought of having to travel further away from home. She did not want her supplies to run out before she had completed her objective. For the sake of her sanity, this place had to be the Eden she sought out!

After waiting for the sun to rise, Akito and Monifa nervously finish their epic journey. Full of cautious optimism, the two travelers did not want to consider the possibility that this oasis is not Eden, but rather something else entirely. The two world-weary explorers notice the noticeable lack of wildlife, at least the sounds of untamed beasts. This surprises the two of them, especially given the rumors that Eden is teaming with animals that can be eaten and conquered.

Akito enters Eden through a narrow entrance on the east side of the garden. Simultaneously, Monifa finds an inviting pathway at the south-facing part of Eden. Both travelers can feel their excitement grow with every step they take inside the garden.

Full of tall grass, clean water streaming through the river, trees bearing luscious fruit (some of which Akito and Monifa do not recognize), rich smells they could not identify, and a tangible feeling of peace and tranquility that they had both never experienced before, there is no doubt about it. This place must be the legendary Eden. There is no other possibility.

What else could it be?

In the middle of the garden is a vast field of green grass. Akito follows the river to the open area, impressed by the sights and sounds surrounding him. He could very well imagine several families from his village – including his own – living peacefully in this garden. He could help build several houses in this field! Everything would be perfect. No one would ever suffer from a lack of food, water, or shelter again. Suddenly, Akito notices several bushes in the near distance, all of them bearing the most beautiful flowers he had ever laid eyes on. Oh, how gorgeous they look! Akito, suddenly imbued with a renewed sense of purpose, sprints toward the flower garden. Excited to explore this botanical structure further, he ignores the ominous figure standing next to a tall rosebush.

Akito freezes in place. The figure, which appears to be a human being, turns slowly around to see who is creating these footsteps. Monifa reaches for her spear as she twists her body. Akito, in response, unsheathes his sword from his side. Soon, the two weary travelers are on high alert, with their weapons drawn, staring down each other menacingly. During their respective journeys, they’ve had to fight beasts that were threatening their lives. However, this is the first time they’ve ever encountered another human being. Neither of them speaks for a long time, as if they had anything to speak about.

“Who are you?” Akito asks first.

Monifa does not understand his language. But despite this, she can sense the strange man’s diplomatic attempt. She responds to him in her language, which she doubts he would be able to understand as well.

“My name is Monifa. Who are you? Do you live here or do you come from far away?” Monifa, with her spear pointing directly at the man, observes him. He’s handsome, well-built, and conducts himself like a warrior. Perhaps he is one? He is bare-chested, revealing well-defined pecs, shoulders, and abdominal muscles. Monifa struggles to maintain eye contact with the man, finding herself distracted by his athletic body. Akito, who also doesn’t understand her language, keeps a cautious distance from her. He chooses to have his sword remain by his side but not raised in the air, motivated by not wanting to provoke this woman further. Akito walks away from the rosebush and creeps closer to her, hoping to achieve some sort of diplomatic solution to this tense standoff.

“My name is Akito,” he says. The woman doesn’t reply. He did not expect her to. Akito watches her spear closely, careful not to make any sudden moves that might instigate a direct attack. Somehow, he senses she has no desire to resort to violence. After a few moments of complete silence, both warriors begin to breathe easier. The woman lowers her spear to her side but does not put it away. The man resheaths his sword yet maintains a high level of alertness toward his adversary.

“What is the purpose of your journey to this place?” Monifa asks. She considers asking a follow-up question but resists after realizing the futility of such an endeavor. Why ask a question in a language he does not understand? What sort of response does she expect to receive?

Driven by the idea to extend a peaceful gesture, Akito unbuckles his belt onto which the scabbard is attached, drops it to the ground, and maintains eye contact with her. He then takes a few steps to his left, conveying his intention to de-escalate the situation. The man is now several feet away from his weapon, putting himself in a prime vulnerable position. Monifa sees this, contemplates its meaning, and takes several paces forward to get closer to the man. She gives him a warm smile to communicate friendliness.

The man and woman are now standing directly in front of each other. They warily scope out one another, wanting to fully comprehend the person in front of them. Akito is pleasantly surprised by the woman’s physical appearance. Intensely beautiful, with sharp angular facial features and piercing brown eyes, she might be the most attractive woman he’s ever seen in his life. His eyes then observe the rest of her. Akito’s heart stops when he fully takes in the woman’s entire figure. Full of strong, dense muscles from head to toe, this woman looks as powerful as a wild beast while maintaining an unambiguous femininity to her. She possesses broad shoulders, rounded biceps, bountiful breasts, and long thick legs that could only be possible from participating in decades of hard physical labor. Every single woman in his village is small, short, dainty, and physically meek. But not this woman. Her commanding physical stature is enough to make him feel intimidated while sending jolts of arousal throughout his system.

Has Akito ever felt this way before? He cannot recall. Probably not.

For the next thirty minutes, Akito and Monifa continue this silent, still dance. They look upon each other with complicated feelings of curiosity, fear, relief, and…lust.

Lust. A feeling both warriors have been taught to repress since their youth. As leaders in their respective lands, Akito and Monifa both feel compelled to uphold a certain level of “dignified separation” from such base emotions. After all, how can one be expected to lead their people into battle if they are unable to control their own carnal desires? That is not what leadership is all about. Both of these weary travelers know this intuitively.

However, they are also far from home. Are the rules different here in Eden?

Akito breaks the stillness by walking back toward the flower garden. Monifa blinks several times, as if being thrust back into reality. Without knowing why, she follows him. Akito smiles to himself when he hears her footsteps behind him.

Over the course of the next two hours, Akito and Monifa silently explore the garden together while maintaining a respectable physical distance. They keep a watchful eye on the other person, still unsure if a surprise attack is imminent. However, with each passing moment, that fear seems more and more unlikely. Monifa enjoys looking at Akito’s ruggedly handsome face. Akito, likewise, cannot remove his gaze from her immense beauty.

This is also the first time they’ve ever seen someone from the other person’s respective people group. Monifa has heard tales of people from the Asian continent, but she’s never met someone from that culture up close. Today, that is no longer the case. Similarly, Akito has seen drawings of people from the African continent. He may have also heard stories from his childhood from spice traders who travel the world by boat. But never in his life has he ever actually seen someone like her…let alone converse with (or at least, attempt to) in a tense environment. Impressed by her strong, muscular physique, Akito wonders if all women from her land look like this. Or is she the exception? Perhaps she is, which would explain why she was (in all likelihood) sent out here in the first place. Who better to traverse through the dangerous wilderness than someone who looks like her?

Finally, after exploring every part of the garden, Akito and Monifa find the back pathway, which leads to a gorgeous lake. It is here where they finally see the wildlife in this part of the world. Winged creatures, four-legged beasts, scaled beings that slither on the ground, and bugs that fly from all directions – the lake is where Eden’s civilization truly resides. The two travelers cannot believe their eyes. They remain still for a long time, taking in the sights and sounds of this paradise on Earth. It is at this moment when they both break their silence. Akito and Monifa begin speaking in their native tongues, not to each other, but to their families back home. They know they cannot hear them from this far, but they hope that their messages can float through the air and nestle in the dreams of their people.

This looks like the perfect place to set up a new civilization, Akito thinks. He bends down to drink the water from the lake. It’s as sweet as he had hoped it would be. Monifa follows his lead and does the same. She gasps, pleasantly surprised by the water’s divine taste.

She then finds a large red fruit hanging from a nearby tree, plucks it, and begins to eat it. Akito comes closer. Monifa generously offers him a taste. They eat together, enjoying the nourishing fruit, laughing, and smiling at each other.

Is this what Heaven is like? Akito and Monifa sure hope so.

After eating a few more pieces of fruit and tasting some of the leafy greens growing from the ground, Akito and Monifa lie in the grass, happy and content. Their bellies are sufficiently full. They remain like this, looking up at the cloudless sky, for several minutes. No one speaks. What could they say that would come close to accurately capturing their actual feelings?

Monifa tilts her head to look at Akito. Suddenly, a wave of emotions overcomes her. She feels safe around him. She feels a sense of security, peace, and joy around this man that she’s never felt for another human being. Slowly, she extends her hand and places it on Akito’s knee. He instantly sits up, surprised by this gesture. Akito stares at Monifa’s beautiful face, noticing the longing in her glances at him. Akito takes her hand into his and kisses it. Monifa giggles. Akito smiles.

Back home, Akito has many suitors who are interested in him. Like Monifa, he’s rejected every single advance, out of hope that the perfect mate for him is out there, somewhere. Is this mysterious woman the one he’s been looking for? Could this be it? Is she for real? These questions swim around Akito’s head as he pulls Monifa closer to his chest. He feels the warmth radiating from her silky skin. Monifa listens to Akito’s heartbeat as if it were music playing from the gods. Finally, he cups her face with his hands and kisses her deeply, languishing every moment. The two travelers do not want this moment to end.

When their lips come apart, they both know what’s about to happen next. They don’t need to speak the same language to understand this. There is, however, a universal language that both Akito and Monifa speak with masterful clarity:

Love.

Hand-in-hand, Akito helps Monifa stand to her feet. He leads her back into the garden. After a few minutes, they find a small patch of grass surrounded by dense flower bushes. Their weapons are still near the lake, for what they are about to do next will not require them. They are no longer afraid of each other. That time has passed. They are now about to express a shared love that knows no cultural or language boundaries.

Akito and Monifa are now standing in the middle of this grassy patch. They stare into each other’s eyes. He caresses her beautiful face. She reaches down to feel his growing arousal. At first embarrassed by his conspicuous hardness, Monifa laughs it off as a trivial thing to worry about. This is the exact reaction she wants out of him. Just as he’s about to laugh alongside her, Monifa explores his solid pecs with her hands, greedily feeling his raw strength and power. She can feel considerable dampness forming between her legs. Akito slides his hands across her broad back, feeling every mound of pure muscle. He leans over to kiss her again. She returns the favor by stroking his wide shoulders with her fingertips.

After more kissing and caressing, they finally decide that enough is enough.

Monifa steps back and removes her clothing, article by article. Wearing a headscarf, a leather belt, sandals, and a long piece of colorful fabric wrapped around her body to make a dress, Akito stops breathing as he watches her remove each item. She carelessly lets everything drop to the ground. Soon, she’s completely naked. Akito’s heart races as he looks upon her flawless body. Sturdy, athletic, bulky…yet curvy and feminine at the same time, she is perfect in every way. Her plump breasts bounce up and down as she saunters toward him. His eyes cannot stop staring at her engorged clitoris, much larger and meatier than he’s ever seen on a woman before. Akito had no idea it could get so big!

She kisses him again. When they come apart, he realizes that now it’s his turn to undress.

Akito loosens the strap on his pants, allowing it to fall down and pool around his ankles. Monifa audibly gasps when she sees his erect penis shoot up in the air, ready and willing to take her. There’s something incredibly erotic, something deeply “female” about the experience of seeing a man get instantly hard around you. It gives her a unique feeling of power that she has never experienced before. After removing his moccasins and cloth bands around his forearms, he joins her in being fully naked. They stand there, wistfully, looking into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, both of them remember their childhoods. They remember being told by their parents about the rituals of mating. They recall their lessons about reproduction and learning how they are expected, as adults, to perpetuate their species. They must, in the near future, find a mate and create children with them. As youths, this lesson felt silly and didactic. But today, in this moment, this lesson feels imperative.

It feels like a sacred calling.

Akito guides Monifa down onto the grass. She enjoys the feeling of the cool, soft green grass against her taut naked skin. He reaches down to feel the wetness between her legs. Akito massages the head of her hard clit, further turning her on. Waves of pleasure roll through her, a feeling she never wants to stop. Just as she reaches the verge of climax, Akito pulls away, as if he knew she was close. As if he intentionally chose to do this, as if he wanted to finish her off himself. Monifa makes a sound of protest. Akito responds by lowering himself on top of her.

Sweat drips down his face. His breathing becomes rapid. Monifa closes her eyes, ready for his welcoming penetration. Then, inch by inch, Akito enters her. All it takes is this single moment for both Akito and Monifa to lose their innocence forever. Finally, they experience something that they’ve been taught to do but have never, up to this point, actually done. But those days are now over. From here on out, these two are living in a whole different world.

Akito thrusts deeply into her, in and out, in and out, in and out, slowly at first, savoring the moment. Monifa opens her eyes and finds herself mesmerized by Akito’s handsomeness. His kind eyes, angular jaw, and deep cheekbones make his face look like it was chiseled by the gods – or by an artist who intuitively understood male beauty. He can feel the tension build within him. Monifa’s cheeks are now scorching hot, as is the rest of her body. Her heels make an indent in the dirt below her as her feet writhe around wildly. Akito’s manhood fills her completely in a way she didn’t know was possible. Akito, from his perspective, cannot describe in words the way her heat and wetness feel around him.

Luckily for the two of them, there aren’t any other people around. Even the wild beasts near the lake are nowhere to be found. As if they knew to stay away. As if some unseen force is compelling them to keep their distance. Akito continues to thrust into her as he leans over to kiss her. They exchange saliva. He tastes her tongue. She digs her fingernails into his side. A gentle breeze cools them off at just the right time, just seconds before it all ends.

One final thrust later, and Akito orgasms. He spills his seed deep inside her, an endless stream that seems to go on forever and ever. Monifa climaxes shortly after he does. She lets out a guttural scream that could probably be heard by anyone within a mile radius of the flower garden. Her breathing intensifies. Akito groans. Once his spasms subside, he remains inside her, as if his life depended on him being physically and emotionally attached to her. Anyone who were to witness this moment would see quite an epic sight: A beautiful man and a beautiful woman, bodies interlocked, tired and spent of energy, engaging in a pure act of physical love.

Moments pass. Monifa, still in a daze, gains some mental clarity. She cannot recall the last time she ever felt this at ease. She feels completely unguarded. She’s naked, far away from her weapon, and has a strangely powerful man on top of her. Yet, she feels the safest she’s ever felt in her whole life. She doesn’t feel any sort of vulnerability around him, this mysterious man who just walked into her biographical tale. Akito finally pulls out of her, causing both of them to moan. Then, they laugh together, relishing the silliness of it all. Is this what love is like? If so, then they want to experience this all the time, without end.

After a long time, Akito and Monifa stand up. They decide to explore the rest of Eden. But, they will do this without getting dressed. Why bother? Who will catch them? Who will care? The weather is idyllic. There’s no need to put clothes back on. Feeling naughty, Akito and Monifa leave their clothes on the grass and walk hand-in-hand back to the lake.

What a sight it must have been! The trees, animals, and plants are all witnessing two beautiful human beings stroll through Eden. Two gorgeous, muscular, powerfully athletic bodies marching side by side toward the water. Akito’s tanned, golden yellow skin and Monifa’s glistening, dark black skin radiate in the afternoon sunlight. Their muscles appear pumped and taut, like poetry in motion. The two lovers spend the next hour splashing around in the lake, cooling off, and cleaning their exhausted bodies.

When they get out, they find a large boulder to sit down on. The smooth surface looks like it was designed by a master mason artist. Monifa playfully reaches down and fondles Akito’s small soft penis. He instantly feels embarrassment, suddenly remembering seeing paintings of male warriors from her continent. Every single man depicted in those renderings has a massive endowment between their legs, an anatomical feature that Akito is unsure if he could match. He looks into Monifa’s eyes, admiring her gentle touch and compassionate attitude. Can he live up to the high standards that she must have for her male suitors? Akito cannot help but believe that her standards must be highly discriminatory.

Inspired by a combination of insecurity and machismo, Akito becomes erect again, much to the pleasant surprise of Monifa. This time, Akito stands Monifa on her feet, turns her around, and bends her over the moss-covered boulder. Monifa grits her teeth. She spreads her legs for him, allowing Akito to enter her from behind. She braces herself against the boulder as he pumps in and out of her.

For their second intimate experience together, Akito thrusts with relentless urgency. Monifa can instantly tell the difference between this coupling and the first one they had. This seems more personal, more emotional, more insistent. She reaches down to stroke her engorged clit, further heightening her pleasure. Akito’s forceful thrusts get more and more intense, as if he has something to prove. Perhaps he does?

Monifa lets out an animalistic growl, deeper and more primal than any sound he’s ever heard from any wild beast. When Akito lightly tugs on Monifa’s lengthy silky hair, the sounds of her moaning make him even harder, as if such a thing were even possible.

“I love you,” Monifa speaks in her native tongue. Akito cannot understand her, yet he somehow knows what she means, in an odd but esoteric way. Monifa digs her fingernails deeper into the boulder’s bushy moss. Akito knows his climax is impending. The same goes for Monifa.

One final deep breath in, and Akito gives her one last powerful pump. He begins pulsating deep within her. Monifa climaxes after jerking off her clit, a considerable amount of fluid gushing out of her as her vaginal walls contract intensely. Akito doesn’t understand what’s just happened, but he knows he must have achieved something noteworthy. He then falls on her. She lays her breasts on top of the boulder, wheezing and out of breath. They remain that way for a long time. Akito’s softened, sticky penis remains deep inside her. He is also breathless. Their heartbeats are perfectly synced, a harbinger of things to come, perhaps?

Once they come apart, Akito confusedly looks down at the puddle forming underneath them. Where did that come from? Monifa giggles, kisses Akito on the cheek, and grabs his hand. They walk away from the moss-covered boulder and approach one of the tallest trees in the garden.

Monifa chooses the tree with the widest branches. She and Akito lie down in the shade, snuggle for a few moments, and fall asleep.

An hour later, Akito wakes up. He blinks several times. After regaining consciousness, he looks up and sees Monifa’s gorgeous face smiling down at him. He cannot remember what he dreamt about during his nap, but whatever it was, he is certainly glad to reenter the real world. They share a deep, passionate kiss. Monifa mounts him, like a traveler riding a stallion.

By now, the sun has moved its position. They are no longer covered in shade. However, the temperature has cooled down considerably. Akito estimates sundown must be at least five to six hours away. Before he can think about this further, he gets distracted by the sensations of Monifa’s strong callused fingers wrapping around his soft penis. He lets out a quiet moan. Monifa licks her lips. After he gets hard again, they make love for the third time today. Unlike their previous experience together, this time the pace is slower, more languorous, more intentional. Akito and Monifa engage in this beautifully erotic dance once more. At first, she lifts her hips up and down methodically, wanting to savor every inch of him occupying her sensitive slit. Soon, she bounces with more ferocity, desiring yet another satisfying climax. When it does arrive, Monifa looks up to the sky, joyfully screaming in delight as Akito groans with his own release.

For the rest of the day, Akito and Monifa engage in nonstop carnal delights. They spend the next six hours exploring a different part of Eden, making love, resting, and walking further into the garden to see what plants and wildlife it has to offer. As it approached sundown, Akito and Monifa have lost track of how many times they’ve made love. Ten times? Fifteen times? Twenty times? They honestly don’t know. What they do know is that after a long night of sleep, they’re bound to get hungry again. Hungry for the flesh of their partner.

Akito and Monifa remain together for ten days. Even though they are still unable to speak each other’s language (despite each of them learning a few phrases in their partner’s native tongue), they realize that their idyllic time together must eventually end. Their mission isn’t to find a partner. Their mission is to locate Eden, verify whether the legends surrounding Eden are true, study the environment, and report back to their people what they found (or didn’t find). Soon, they will need to depart for their respective homes. They knew this day would come. They didn’t know when that would be.

In the meantime, they spend their days walking around Eden, writing notes about the plantlife and animals that live there, taking mental pictures of the scenery, and enjoying carnal delights with each other. Soon, our travelers have documented every single square inch of Eden. Their notebooks are full of written observations. Plenty of reporting to be done when they return to their respective homelands! They know that they have one final sleep left in the garden before they must go their separate ways.

Finally, Akito and Monifa wake up one morning and engage in one final carnal encounter before departing. By now, they are intimately familiar with each other’s bodies. They know how to touch each other. They know which parts not to touch. The tallest tree has become their preferred resting place. After eating a hearty breakfast, Akito and Monifa enter the garden, find a grassy patch near the lake, and make love one final time.

Monifa lies on her back and spreads her legs out wide. Akito mounts her, kisses her several times, and enters her. After dozens of thrusts, Akito spills his seed inside her for the last time. She savors the moment, knowing the risks of their carnal activities. He knows it too. They both know what will happen as a result of their lovemaking, even though they cannot articulate it into words that their lover will understand. Monifa touches Akito’s muscular chest. She cannot bear the thought of not being with him. Akito flips himself and his lover on their sides, then reaches over to cup her rounded butt cheeks. Her hard glutes never get tiresome to feel. He will dream of this during his journey back home.

At long last, Akito and Monifa get dressed, pack enough fruit and fresh water into their bags, and get ready to exit Eden. The two lovers are overwhelmed with emotions. The last ten days have been heavenly. They’ve spent every single day making love, exploring the garden, teaching each other their native languages, and making love some more. But as painful as their separation will be, they know they must return home and report their findings. After all, that’s why they made this journey in the first place.

At high noon, Akito and Monifa exit the garden and stand in the middle of the valley plain. They can hear the river flowing in the distance. They share one final kiss. Tears roll down their faces. They’re trembling. They can barely stand up straight. They want to delay the inevitable, but they know that would only make their separation more painful. Their hearts beat as one now. There is an invisible string, quilted by the gods above, that connects their souls. There is no doubt about that. This string cannot be seen, but it can be deeply felt by both Akito and Monifa.

One final embrace. One final kiss. Then, Akito walks to the east while Monifa walks southbound. They trudge forward, unable to bear the thought of being apart. The two lovers trek through the wide valley, weeping uncontrollably as they take each step. Akito and Monifa periodically look back to see each other. Finally, they are out of sight.

They are now alone.

When Akito returns home, more than a year after he left, he is greeted by the village elders, residents young and old, and his family. Every single day on his journey home, he thought about Monifa. He prayed she would return to her continent safely. Monifa, likewise, spoke a silent prayer every night, asking the gods to watch over and protect Akito.

Similarly, the moment Monifa steps foot back into her hamlet, she’s greeted by an enthusiastic welcoming party. However, everyone stands still in utter shock when they see her physical appearance.

Monifa’s belly is large and full. She was careful throughout her journey home to protect herself…and her unborn child. Soon, she will become a mother. The child’s father, thousands of miles away in a foreign land, does not know about the existence of his child…yet he has frequent dreams about fatherhood. Monifa’s mother smiles at her daughter, happy that she finally found a mate. The leaders of their respective villages decided to send a large party to settle in Eden, a land that was no longer a fantastical rumor. Akito and Monifa, naturally, agreed to be the leaders of these two parties.

Genealogists in the modern day estimate that close to 70% of the entire human population can trace their lineage back to two historic individuals: Akito and Monifa. They replenished the world that was on the brink of starvation. They bore many children together, who in turn traveled the world and had children of their own.

History has forgotten their names. But their legacy lives on nevertheless. There’s poetic beauty in this. There’s something wonderful about two people who loved each other deeply being the two most important human beings to ever exist.

May their legacy continue forever and ever.

Akito and Monifa.

Yvette Bova: A Guilty Pleasure

She’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but she’s definitely mine.

She isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Heck, she might even convert you to drink coffee instead.

It wouldn’t be fair to call her “polarizing,” mostly because female muscle fans tend to be pretty open minded about the muscular ladies we love – which isn’t to say that we don’t have our personal favorites. But she definitely has her fans…and people who aren’t her fans.

Yvette Bova is a one-of-a-kind. What one person loves about her someone else may find repulsive. And this isn’t a case of “either you get her or you don’t.” Instead, this is a case of either Yvette appeals to you or she doesn’t. She’s larger than life – both physically and metaphorically. She refuses to apologize for who she is and embraces her uniqueness.

Perhaps that’s the best way to describe Miss Bova: Unique.

Even within the relatively small world of female bodybuilders, Yvette stands out. She isn’t the most accomplished or famous FBB around, but you know her when you see her. She’s a self-made entrepreneur (and not in an annoying Silicon Valley kind of way) who understands what’s appealing about her and does whatever she can to benefit from it. There’s a lot to admire about that approach to life.

Yvette Bova was born on April 6, 1962 in Junction City, Kansas. She grew up in Denver, served in the U.S. Air Force for more than 13 years, and currently resides in Las Vegas. After leaving the armed forces, Yvette competed in several bodybuilding competitions from 1996 to 2006 as both a Middleweight and Light-Heavyweight competitor. Her accomplishments on the stage are modest, but it’s not in the sport itself where Yvette made her name.

It was in the world of adult entertainment.

Starting in 2002, Yvette says she was approached by a porn producer at a gym in Los Angeles – which is probably the most L.A. thing to ever have happened in the history of L.A. – and asked to participate in a porn scene. After doing some “soul searching” for several days, she agreed to his request and did the scene. Chances are there was nothing memorable about this particular scene, but it did spark inside Yvette’s mind the idea that she can make money off of her unique physique.

She’s a strong, confident, sexually liberated black woman who decided to take charge of her life. This definitely counts for something! But she didn’t become this way by waving trendy slogans around or using the right hashtags. She did this by taking action, refusing to bow down to societal pressure, and overcoming any obstacles that came her way. That’s real strength.

Yvette’s original website flamed out because the person she was working with was being difficult (pro tip: never allow your company’s website to be controlled by anyone who isn’t you). Learning from this unfortunate experience, Yvette launched a brand new website and multimedia business known as Club Yvette. Her video production company is YB Entertained Productions, a company she owns and operates. Today, Yvette is a self-made businesswoman who spends her time and energy celebrating the sexy side of female bodybuilders. She loves what she’s doing and doesn’t appear to be slowing down anytime soon. Her videos are mostly about her, but she’s perfectly fine featuring other muscular ladies as well.

Miss Bova may be unique, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have peers.

At first glance, it’s easy to make a direct comparison between Yvette Bova and Kathy Connors, the Devilishly Sexy Muscle Siren. It makes perfect sense. There are a lot of similarities between the two:

Both women are not what you would call “traditionally beautiful.” Yet, they’ve transformed themselves into Unbelievably Sexy Muscle Goddesses through hard work, dedication, and sheer willpower.
Both women have their detractors, but none of that matters because they’ve come to embrace who they are and don’t pretend to be someone they’re not.
Both women are open about their sexualities and happily exploit it for financial gain.
Both women are perfectly cognizant of the fetishistic side of female muscle fandom and do not hesitate to capitalize off it.
Both women understand their niche audiences and do whatever they can to please them.
And finally, both women refuse to apologize for who they are, what they do, and why they do it. They’re confident, bold, empowered, and strategically placed for success.

Yvette – and Kathy as well – has carved out a nice little space for herself on the Internet. Yvette has assets that many people in this world find appealing: Big muscles, comically large breasts, an uncompromisingly sexy attitude, and a willingness to showcase her body and sexuality for leering eyes. There aren’t a whole lot of things she isn’t willing to do for the camera. She’ll participate in a “gang bang” with multiple guys. She’ll do scenes with women. She’ll masturbate. She’ll do BDSM scenes. She’ll have sex with a diverse group of men: old men, young men, skinny men, muscular men, ugly men, handsome men, white men, black men, men who are well endowed, men who aren’t well endowed, and so on. She loves having sex, in case you haven’t noticed! But more than that, she enjoys delivering what her fans crave.

This is part of her genius. If you love Yvette, you can watch her videos and easily imagine yourself in them as well. She has sex with good looking studs, but also gets freaky in the sheets with “average Joes” too. That works to her benefit. As viewers, we can vicariously place ourselves into the video because we see that she loves getting it on with many different types of men: both men who look like us and men who don’t look like us. Because of this, we can seamlessly fantasize about being with her because her “standards” aren’t so high that we aren’t able to meet them.

For example, in one video Yvette will have sex with a guy with a 8-inch long penis and enjoy every minute of it. However, before we start to feel too insecure about ourselves, in the next video she has sex with a more normally endowed guy and still seems to enjoy it. Yes, it’s all an act for the camera, but for the sake of vicarious entertainment it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we love Yvette because she’s a pure Sex Kitten. She loves sex and doesn’t really care who she has it with. Just as long as a dick is inside her, she’s as happy as can be.

This is a complete contrast from Denise Masino. As noted in an earlier blog article, Denise rarely has sex with men in her videos (and if one exists, I’m yet to find it). This tactic also works to her advantage because the lack of a screen partner makes it easier for us to imagine us being her partner. That’s why people get upset when their celebrity crush gets married or announces they have a boyfriend/girlfriend. The fantasy of being with them is ruined. We understand that we have no chance in Hell of actually being with them, but that’s not why we’re upset. We’re disappointed because the fun has been drained out of the fantasy. The image of them kissing and cuddling an actual human being destroys the superfluous façade we’ve cultivated in our minds.

However, Yvette takes the complete opposite approach of Denise, yet they both achieve the same result. Denise doesn’t have sex with any men. Yvette has sex with every kind of man. Either way, we are still able to imagine ourselves getting it on with both of them. In Denise’s case, we can mentally situate ourselves as her missing partner. In Yvette’s case, we feel empowered knowing that no matter who we are, she will embrace us with open arms. In other words, if Yvette is willing to have sex with a fat, old, balding man with a normal-sized penis…so can I!

The major difference between Yvette and Denise is that Yvette is less interested in being sexy and more interested in, well, having sex. Yvette loves having sex. A lot. More than we can comprehend. Unlike Denise, Amber DeLuca, Brandi Mae Akers, Angela Salvagno, or Emery Miller, Miss Bova doesn’t care as much about building her brand as a Powerful Muscle Goddess. Instead, she wants to be known as a Sex Goddess Who Happens to Have Big Muscles. She’s more interested in showing off her skills in copulating than she is in turning up the heat around her. She doesn’t waste time with foreplay, preening, flirting, or building tension. She’d rather get the party started immediately and ignore all the pretense.

This approach doesn’t appeal to everyone, but it doesn’t have to. She embraces the “slutty” label as part of her brand. She loves pleasure, experiencing pleasure, giving pleasure, and having a good time. She loves the joys her flesh – and the flesh of her partners – can bring her. And for viewers who agree wholeheartedly, Yvette is the gift that keeps on giving.

Yvette loves to smile. She loves to laugh. She loves to experience orgasms. She loves to bring her partners to orgasm. She’s tireless in her pursuit of pleasurable experiences. She’s a pure hedonist. She loves to have fun.

She isn’t scary, intimidating, or mysterious. Nothing about her is a mystery. She’s transparent about what she enjoys and what motivates her when she wakes up every morning. Amber DeLuca, on the other hand, is widely recognized as a powerful muscle mistress who will dominate you without mercy. Yvette doesn’t want to do that. She’d rather be a fun-loving gal who will bend over and take it from you with more enthusiasm than you’d think is possible.

What’s jarring is that Yvette doesn’t always “act” like a typical female bodybuilder. In her videos, she’s often in a submissive role in relation to her screen partners. Whether she’s on her knees giving blow jobs to a group of guys or getting pounded from behind by a handsome muscle stud while moaning in pleasure/pain, Yvette doesn’t portray herself as a Dominant Muscle Siren nearly as often as one would expect. Or, she’s seen as an equal to her partner – who isn’t always muscular like she is. Regardless, despite her considerable muscle mass Yvette isn’t afraid to play the role of the submissive one. She isn’t always in control. She allows her partners to control what happens in the bedroom. And this is quite unusual for anyone who watches a lot of female muscle videos (we can all raise our hands on that one).

Despite her status as a strong muscular liberated black woman, she still willingly plays the role of the subservient partner who passively goes along with whatever happens to her. It’s very strange to witness. Is this a strategic choice or an odd coincidence that shouldn’t be thought about too deeply?

I’m willing to bet this provides valuable insight into her worldview. She isn’t concerned with power dynamics or optics. She’s willing to allow an average-looking white man to fuck her on camera and not care about how this looks from a “woke” social justice perspective. She isn’t a postmodern feminist activist who is using the medium of pornography to “right historical wrongs” or “take back the power.” She’s instead a woman who loves to have sex and experience sex in a variety of ways. From her perspective, fun is fun. Fun shouldn’t be limited by subjective elements like appearances, politics, power dynamics, race, or social status. If she’s on top, great. If she’s on the bottom, that’s also great. No matter what, she’s enjoying every minute of it.

If what happens on screen appears to be humiliating to her, she doesn’t care about it. She’s a physically and emotionally strong woman who doesn’t give a single fuck about what society thinks. She can play the role of the submissive because she chooses to. Her videos may be politically incorrect from a feminist perspective, but she’s not here to change the world. She’s here to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh while she still has breath and entertain her beloved fans.

This is why Yvette has a following. The niche she’s found for herself is simple: Politically incorrect hedonism. I don’t know what her political/social beliefs are, but it doesn’t matter. She’s empowering herself in ways that not everyone will approve of. Many will shake their heads in disgust at the choices she makes. Yet, she pushes on, ignores the noise, and continues to live life the way she wants to. Isn’t that the very definition of “liberation?”

For that, Yvette Bova is a guilty pleasure. When you watch her videos, you cannot help but feel conflicted. She’s a female bodybuilder who doesn’t always act like a typical female bodybuilder. She does scenes that don’t always fit our expectations of what a strong muscular woman should be doing. Rian Johnson would be proud of how blatantly she seeks to subvert our expectations. Yvette is perfectly fine having “humiliating” things done to her like having semen smeared on her face or enduring the pain of a large dick penetrating her. She will bend over and let her partner(s) take control instead of the other way around. It perplexes us why she’d do this.

Yet, we must remind ourselves that Yvette has 100% creative control over the content she presents to the public. She owns the production company that produces her videos. She isn’t at the mercy of a misogynistic film producer or a tyrannical studio system. She does what she does because she wants it to be that way. On purpose.

We desperately want her to be a strong independent black woman who takes control of the men around her and reclaims the power that has been denied her ancestors (however you define that). Yet, she doesn’t always do that. She will allow a group of nameless and faceless white men have their way with her and won’t think twice about posting it on her website. The socio-political ramifications be damned. We want her to control the situation, not be handcuffed by it. But for whatever incomprehensible reason Yvette doesn’t always do what we want her to do.

So we enjoy her…and cringe while doing it. We get turned on by her…while reminding ourselves that it’s okay to be turned on by her. We tell ourselves that she’s a powerful woman in control of her environment…even if it doesn’t appear so on the surface.

Naturally, Yvette is unique in other ways. She’s larger than life. She’s a comic book character conceived from the dark recesses of a female muscle fetishist’s imagination. Unlike Nataliya Kuznetsova, Yvette’s muscle mass is impressive but not eye-popping. What is remarkable about her appearance are her enormous breast implants that seem too large to be real. Does she get back pain from carrying around that much weight on her chest?

If you’re a “boob guy,” Yvette is your lady. She obviously has no qualms about going further than most women are willing to go. Everything about her is full throttle. Pedal to the metal. An 11 out of 10. Amped up. Excessive. Bold. Subversive. Provocative. She doesn’t hold back. She isn’t afraid to “go there” and put herself in situations many of us would find uncomfortable.

She’s a porn star who isn’t ashamed of her body, her sexuality, her accomplishments, her desires, her preferences, and her art. Yes, it’s a bit strange to label smutty porn as “art,” but it is nevertheless. It’s not artfully produced, but it does make a bold statement. Her videos say “this is who I am and if you don’t like it you can leave and go somewhere else.”

Her videos also say “however, if you do like it then you are welcomed to stay and enjoy the ride!”

Her appearance can be grotesque, even to the most compassionate female muscle fan. But that’s part of her charm. She knows many people will stumble upon her videos and leave disparaging comments. She knows ignorant trolls will say she “looks like a man” or “women shouldn’t look like that” or “nobody wants to see that!” She ignores that and soldiers on anyway. She understands not everyone will embrace her, but the small number of people who do are in for a treat.

Yvette doesn’t try to be classy. She doesn’t seek your approval. Her brand is trashy and that’s the way she likes it. She produces smut that titillates our senses, not high art that stimulates our brains. She’s that b-level horror movie you giddily snuck into as a teenager. You promised your parents you’re seeing The Poseidon Adventure when you’re actually going to watch Pink Flamingos. She’s a human exploitation film, a delight on screen that you know you shouldn’t enjoy but do anyway. She’s pure smut. You feel dirty after watching her in action. And we love her for it.

Enjoying Yvette’s exploits is like being entertained by a badly dubbed 1970s Hong Kong action movie or laughing at an offensive comedian’s bad jokes. You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s bad for you. You know it’s not socially acceptable. You know there are a million rational reasons why you should walk away and go to your local church to confess your sins. But you don’t. You sit there and smile at what you see unfold before you.

Heck, even the most hardcore female muscle fan may feel apprehensive about admitting that they like Yvette. You may say to yourself “I respect her, but she ain’t my style” while proceeding to jerk off while thinking about plowing your face into her enormous pillows. You may feel ashamed afterward and immediately delete your browsing history, but when the time comes around again you’ll happily repeat the shenanigans.

That’s the very definition of a guilty pleasure!

Yvette Bova isn’t my favorite FBB or even in my top 10. But I have a lot of respect for her. Seriously. She’s a smart businesswoman who has taken control of her destiny. She’s intelligently carved out a small group of fans and has given them exactly what they want repeatedly throughout the years. Like Denise Masino and Amber DeLuca, Yvette understands why certain guys love female bodybuilders and produces content that satisfies their fetishes. Yvette wasn’t born with the same natural beauty Cindy Landolt possesses and that’s perfectly okay. She doesn’t need to be considered conventionally beautiful. She can use her monstrousness to her advantage. She’s a truly Beautiful Monster who creeps us out and devilishly arouses us at the same time.

She isn’t perfect in every way, but she’s perfectly fine with who she is.

Educating Jonathan – Part Three

A beautiful shot of a woman exuding sexuality.

“Listen, I’m…uh, not really comfortable doing this sort of thing,” Jonathan says. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say right now.

Samantha turns around but still remains on her hands and knees. She peers up at Jonathan with innocence in her eyes. She doesn’t like the fact she’s making Jonathan feel uncomfortable.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. Listen, Jonathan. I’m serious about what I’m saying. I really do deserve to be punished. Someone needs to do it, even if you don’t want to,” she says.

On the contrary, Jonathan sees absolutely no need for any of this to happen. Punishment for what exactly? Racism around the world? Slavery? Past crimes against humanity? Samantha isn’t responsible for any of that! She’s just a college professor. An author. A public speaker. She’s not a tyrant or a flaming bigot. Dear Lord…

“No, Samantha. You don’t need to do this. This is crazy. This doesn’t make sense. Get up off the floor. Let’s just…snuggle and make love again. I don’t like how you’re behaving.” He’s being sincere. Jonathan has never considered himself the “kinky” type. Of course, he’s not one to judge. What someone is into is their business and their business alone.

“I had a feeling you’d feel this way,” Samantha begins. “So I have a backup plan.”

Standing up, Dr. Sammy digs into her black bag again and takes out her cell phone. By this time Jonathan’s arousal has disappeared completely. When things started to get weird, Jonathan didn’t know how to react. He hopes things return back to normal soon.

“Do you mind if I invite my friend to come up here? I have an associate who’s been waiting in my car this whole time.”

“Wait, what? You came here with someone?”

“Yes. An associate of mine. An old friend. Can I invite her here? She’s friendly.” Now there’s someone else involved? Uh oh.

“Uh, sure. Invite her in. I don’t want anyone to be bored and wait in a car all night,” Jonathan says.

At this point, what’s the harm? It’s not like this night could get any stranger. Jonathan’s been with a few women in his life, but never under these circumstances. Most of his “hook-ups” have been just that: hook ups. No requests to whip anyone. No discussions about white guilt, compensating for injustices of the past, no need to sexually appease a so-called “oppressed” racial minority. None of that.

“Okay. Thanks!”

Samantha dials a number and puts the phone up to her ear. A moment later, the person she calls picks up and answers.

“Hello Mistress. It’s me. Come on up. He just gave me permission to invite you in. He’s in unit number 821. See you soon. Bye, honey.” She ends the call and puts her phone back in the black bag. There is a moment of silence. Samantha twirls her hair. Jonathan sits patiently on the bed, trying to rationalize this whole eventful evening. What the hell just happened during the past few minutes? Did he just step into the Twilight Zone or some other alternate dimension?

Finally, Samantha breaks the awkward silence.

“Like I said, she’s an old friend. She’ll punish me in a way I severely deserve,” Samantha insists.

“Who…exactly is your friend? And how is she going to punish you, you know, like you supposedly deserve? Or do I not want to know?”

“Oh, you’ll find out. Trust me. You’ll like her. You’ll like the Mistress.” Samantha sits down on an easy chair and rubs her nipples. They stand at attention. Jonathan sighs and leans back against the headboard. Mistress? What the hell does that mean? As if this night couldn’t get any creepier…it does!

Jonathan decides to use the bathroom. He does. After washing his hands, he hears the doorbell ring. Samantha, who still hasn’t put on any clothes as far as Jonathan knows, answers the door. He faintly hears Samantha and the “Mistress” exchange pleasantries, but he couldn’t quite understand what they were saying. Jonathan considers whether he should put on a bathrobe before meeting this unexpected guest, but is suddenly interrupted mid-thought.

“Oh, Jonathan! She’s here. Don’t worry about getting dressed. Just come out when you can,” Samantha says sweetly – like a mother calling her children in for suppertime.

Embarrassed and a little nervous, Jonathan reluctantly exits the bathroom to greet his newest guest. Standing near the entrance is a tall beautiful black woman wearing a long dark purple fur coat, scarlet red stiletto heels and large gold hoop earrings. She looks to be in her late 30s or early 40s. But black women can be difficult to age at times. Jonathan is mostly captured by her unique beauty. A sharp angular face, striking green eyes, minimal makeup and a husky build makes her a sight to behold.

Unsure of how to properly react, Jonathan is content to just stand there awkwardly and hope for the best.

“Jonathan, this is Mistress Nguvu. She and I go way back. We’re old friends,” Samantha proudly announces. Showing off her friend, Dr. Sammy takes the Mistress’s hand and leads her closer to Jonathan. When they finally approach him, Jonathan is taken aback by how tall she is. Well over six feet tall, his best friend from high school played on the varsity basketball team and was 6 foot 5 inches flat. She appears to be a little shorter, so Jonathan estimates her to be around 6’4” or 6’3”.

“Welcome. Make yourself at home, Mistress Nguvu,” Jonathan weakly says to her. He extends his hand to greet her and she shakes it. Her strong grip also surprises him. He feels like she could break every bone in his hand if she chooses to do so. Finally, their handshake comes to an end and all three are left standing around in silence. Samantha is relishing the moment. Mistress Nguvu’s gorgeous green eyes have not left Jonathan’s earthy brown eyes. While he is physically naked, but her piercing look leaves him exposed in ways that he’s never felt before.

“Thank you for inviting me into your home. I couldn’t stand sitting around in Sammy’s car in the rain for much longer. I needed to stretch my legs,” the Mistress says. Her deep baritone voice has a deep reverberation that could shake the foundations of Earth and Heaven; a voice that also carries confidence, wisdom, sexual prowess and unmistakable femininity. She speaks with a slight accent, one that Jonathan couldn’t quite figure out yet. In these brief few moments he’s known her; Jonathan already senses Mistress Nguvu is a human being unlike any he’s ever encountered before in his life.

“She’s here to give me the punishment you are uncomfortable to deliver. I don’t begrudge you for it. After all, we hardly know each other. But the Mistress and I have been friends for decades. We know each other all too well,” Samantha says. She leans over and licks the Mistress’s left cheek. Mistress Nguvu responds by teasing her right nipple with her long fingers. Dr. Sammy giggles at these sudden pleasurable sensations.

“Is there a place I can hang my coat?” Mistress Nguvu asks.

“Yes, there’s a coat rack right by the door. You passed it when you came in here,” Jonathan answers.

As Mistress Nguvu turns toward the front door, Samantha comes to the bed and picks up the whip, handcuffs and rope. She looks around the room, perhaps to determine where to best use these “toys.” All of this is completely new to Jonathan. He’s read about BDSM practices in a human sexuality class he took during his freshman year, but he mostly took that class to get closer to a girl he liked. They ended up dating for most of the semester, but he truthfully found the class genuinely interesting.

Who knew what he learned in that class would actually become relevant at this very moment?

As if what’s already happened weren’t astounding enough, what happens next would blow all of that completely out of the water. When Mistress Nguvu finds the wooden rack and takes off her handsome fur coat, she reveals an even more stunning spectacle:

A rock hard muscular body.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Jonathan has never seen a sight like this. This striking black woman’s body exudes strength in a way he never knew was possible for a woman. Thick thighs, dense glutes, a chiseled eight-pack set of abdominal muscles, a broad back, plump breasts, a wide chest, vascular arms that look like they could burst out of her skin, shoulders of steel and forearms strong enough to bend iron; Mistress Nguvu has the physique of a male bodybuilder mixed with the grace of a gymnast and the sensuality of a salsa dancer. She hangs up her coat and returns back to the bedroom.

Imagine Mistress Nguvu looking a lot like a taller version of Victoria Dominguez (a.k.a. "Mistress Treasure"). — Imagine Mistress Nguvu looking a lot like a taller version of Victoria Dominguez (a.k.a. “Mistress Treasure”).

Wearing nothing but the stiletto heels, fishnet stockings, a tiny black g-string thong and a tight leather corset, Jonathan wasn’t sure whether to feel fear or uncontrollable arousal. Her massive muscles and remarkable height add to her mesmerizing allure.

After everyone finally gathers back in the bedroom, Samantha starts the evening’s activities.

“Jonathan darling, there’s something I want you to watch. The Mistress and I are going to play together. We do this sort of thing all the time, but I feel it is important for you to witness it. I am confident you will get an empowering and much-needed cathartic experience from it,” Dr. Sammy explains.

“Emotional healing is good for the soul. This is why the Mistress is so vital in my life. We have a symbiotic relationship. Our interdependence is crucial for each other’s existence. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

Jonathan blinks. He nods.

“Great. Fantastic. So, let’s begin, shall we?” Samantha gets down on her knees and hugs Mistress Nguvu’s legs. Her thighs are so thick Dr. Sammy struggles to wrap her arms completely around them. Jonathan sits down on the easy chair and can do nothing else but stare at the exhibition unfolding before him. He is powerless to think or even begin to comprehend where this evening is going.

Playtime has begun.

“You fucking piece of shit. Why the fuck are you even touching me? I never gave you permission to touch me, you dirty little fucking whore!” Mistress Nguvu declares to Samantha. Still unable to place the source of her accent, the Mistress’s voice is like music to Jonathan’s ears.

“I’m sorry, Mistress. I fucked up. I’ll never disobey you again,” Samantha prostrates herself on the floor, her forehead touching the carpet.

“Yes, you will. You will because you’re a worthless slut. You white bitch. You worthless white piece of fucking shit. Look me in the eye when I’m talking to you, little slut,” the Mistress scolds.

It’s been a long time since Jonathan has heard language this foul between two adult women. He’d rather not rehash the specific circumstances.

“I’ll do what you say, Mistress. Discipline me for being a little slut, I beg of you!” Samantha – clearly “in character” – looks up at Mistress Nguvu and licks her muscular calf. A smile lurks underneath Nguvu’s threatening façade.

“Thank you, cunt. Now go into your bag and give me my cock.” On cue, Dr. Sammy reaches over for the bag and takes out a nine-inch long black strap-on. The black dildo’s lifelike appearance catches Jonathan by surprise. Its considerable girth and unrealistic length (at least, Jonathan hopes its length is unrealistic) nearly makes Jonathan gasp out loud. Thankfully, he remains perfectly silent.

Mistress Nguvu puts the strap-on around her crotch and strokes the dildo suggestively. Jonathan still cannot believe all this is happening right before him. Never in a billion years would he ever guess a brilliant college feminist professor and a black female bodybuilder dominatrix would ever pay his humble apartment a visit. But alas, here they are engaging in erotic “roleplaying” right in this very room.

“Suck my cock, you white slut. Suck my beautiful black cock till I tell you to stop. And never stop looking me in the eyes, you fucking white cunt,” Nguvu sternly instructs. “If you break any of my rules, you will pay the dire consequences.”

Obediently, Samantha remains on her knees and opens her mouth wide to suck on the nine-inch long black dildo. Her eyes never leave the Mistress’s eyes. Nguvu lightly strokes Samantha’s hair and rubs her shoulders. As she sucks, the Mistress pretends to be having an orgasm from the mock fellatio. A few moments later the Mistress “climaxes.” She moans. Samantha’s eyes remain locked onto the Mistress’s gorgeous face.

“Swallow all of it, little slut. Make me happy,” the Mistress says. She bends down and kisses Dr. Sammy on the forehead. Samantha pretends to swallow Nguvu’s imaginary semen. Afterward she wipes Samantha’s mouth and kisses her deeply on the lips. The whole time Jonathan does nothing but watch. The initial shock of the situation has at last worn off, but enthralling intrigue has taken its place.

“Now give me the rope and the handcuffs, you worthless white cunt.”

Samantha obliges the Mistress immediately.

Nguvu proceeds to tie the rope around Dr. Sammy’s ankles and straps the handcuffs on her wrists. Slumped over, Dr. Sammy looks worse for wear. Unkempt hair, makeup streaking down her face and sweat dripping off her brow, her physical appearance is about to erode even further. Without instructing anyone, Mistress Nguvu walks over to the bed and takes the whip. Jonathan’s heart flutters when this beautiful strong black woman comes near him. It’s as if her presence alone is enough to make his pulse race.

A very kinky photo of Desiree Ellis and a friend.

“Now, you are about to be punished for your earlier showcase of disobedience. I hope you learn your lesson from this, you fucking white cunt.”

The Mistress raises her fist high in the air, waits a beat, and lashes down on Samantha’s back. The crack of the whip against Dr. Sammy’s flesh makes a sound that stuns Jonathan. He never anticipated the whipping sound would be that…jarring. He thought this was all fun and games (granted, kinky fun and games). But this is something else entirely–

Before Jonathan could process another thought, Mistress Nguvu whips Samantha again. And again, and again, and again. Four, five, six, seven, eight times. More than that. More times than he could count.

Samantha screams. Mistress Nguvu laughs out of sheer sadistic pleasure. Her screams continue. The laughter also continues. Jonathan is frozen stiff. The screams burn his ears. The lashings persist unmercifully.

The Mistress whips her at every angle: her back, her sides, her butt, her legs, her feet, her stomach, her chest, her breasts, her arms, everywhere except for her neck and face. Perhaps they agreed prior to this evening the head area was off limits. But still, Samantha hollers in pain.

For a brief moment, the Mistress stops whipping Samantha. Dr. Sammy is helplessly lying on her stomach, weeping nonstop. Is she actually crying or is she pretending to be crying? Jonathan couldn’t tell. Samantha’s beautiful body is now covered in swollen red streaks. No blood. No evidence of her skin breaking. But the redness on her body appears authentically painful. If she’s really crying because of the pain, Jonathan could understand why.

“Have you had enough, little white bitch?”

Samantha rolls on her back and looks up at the Mistress. Real tears are streaming from her eyes. She’s choked up. She’s sobbing uncontrollably. Jonathan considers intervening, but what the hell could he do? He looks at Mistress Nguvu’s face. She looks angry. Genuinely angry. Jonathan is afraid. He is clueless about what to do next.

“No answer. Pathetic. Fucking pathetic. I always want an answer. I demand an answer from you, little white cunt. You fucking piece of garbage. Just for that, I’ll give you what you deserve. I will officially make you my little slut,” the Mistress threatens.

By now, Jonathan gets it. He understands completely what’s going on here. In a “reverse slavery” motif, Samantha is, within the context of BDSM play, receiving the same treatment African slaves received from their white slave masters. The supposed “cathartic” experience she’s getting from this is feeling the same excruciating humiliation her ancestors brought upon Mistress Nguvu’s ancestors.

Mistress Nguvu, a dominant and powerful black woman, is unleashing relentless physical pain upon a wealthy, educated, privileged white woman. The irony is, of course, how they are reversing the historic roles their predecessors played centuries ago. Dr. Sammy must feel as though her white guilty conscience can come clean after this. Perhaps Mistress Nguvu gets a small degree of vicarious revenge as well.

The rope. And no, this isn't "Clue!" — The rope. And no, this isn’t “Clue!”

The Mistress throws the whip down and straddles herself on top of Samantha’s weary body. She leans over and kisses her. Her tongue slips into Samantha’s mouth. She still has not stopped crying. Her sobs and the tongue entering her mouth cause her to gag. Nguvu snickers condescendingly.

“Jonathan,” Mistress Nguvu says.

Jonathan awakes from his trance. For the first time since they shook hands, the Mistress addresses him directly. Awoken from the spell she’s cast over him, Jonathan dutifully replies.

“Yes, Mistress?”

Mistress Nguvu continues to sit on top of Samantha. The large black dildo pokes her in the back of her head. Dr. Sammy’s persistent wails fill the room. Jonathan’s heartbeat skyrockets. The room is dead quiet. The Mistress then speaks:

“I’m about to give this little slut the next phase of her punishment. But this time, I need your help.”