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Mexican Slut: Blackmailed

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Mexican Slut: Blackmailed 

Two k**s and twelve years later, I was living the 'American Dream'. We had just purchased a new house in a nice, safe suburb, and we both had great, well-paying jobs. 

I had broken free of the historical chains of manual labour in my family and was a successful accountant working at the biggest firm in the city (there was even a bidding war over me of sorts when I finished my degree). 

I was the most successful member of my family and the only one not doing menial labour like cleaning houses. I was (and am) a proud Mexican who wanted to be a role model to my many nieces and nephews...to show them that, unlike their mothers (my cousins were almost all dirty sluts who spread their legs for anyone), they could get out of the Mexican and make something of themselves. 

Of course, Johnathan and I protected ourselves from the temptation of racial sexual submission by role playing at home a plethora of different scenarios (I'll get into more details of our racial role play later). 

Ironically, whenever I went back to Mexico to visit my parents, who moved back there a couple years after I graduated high school, I was mortified by my extended family, who were sex maniacs. My male cousins would grab my ass, cup my tits and try to sleep with me, trying to tarnish the 'golden girl' image I had achieved because of my academic and professional success (my parents keeping my senior year sex scandal under wraps). I was also ashamed of my female cousins, all with k**s by the time they were twenty. I scolded them for being such sluts and spreading their legs for any guy. 

Of course, my cousins had no idea of my own sexual taboos and would love to see me fall from the pedestal my parents and their parents had put me on. They would love to see the 'golden girl' with the uppity American education brought down a few pegs. 

So in public I was a professional; a feminist; a proud Mexican who even had my national flag in my home on proud display. 

Yet, behind the facade was a slut who loved to be used. Who loved having her face sprayed with cum. Loved having her asshole reamed, even more so than getting her cunt filled. Loved playing submissive role playing scenarios where she was a stereotypical Latina: an office slut to her fellow colleagues, a maid, a stripper or having to convince the deportation officer she should be allowed to stay. 

Even though I am a proud Latina, my biggest fantasy is constantly having my Mexican pride taken away from me and eventually being made into a cum slut for the entire office. 

Oddly, my fantasy was about to become a reality, although not in a way I would ever have imagined. 


A rich entitled Italian, who had also gone to Harvard, albeit a few years before me, was named the new CEO...because her daddy owned the firm. 

She was pretentious, snobby and a complete bitch...a bitch who immediately seemed to take a dislike to me. 

At first, I couldn't figure out why. The previous CEO loved me and I was always given the biggest companies' accounts because of my work ethic and my thoroughness. 

She had one on one conversations over the first month with all her employees and in the first minute of mine I could tell her dislike of me bordered on hate. 

She said, "Liz, I'm not happy with you, can you guess why?" 

Being my usual self and hating being called Liz, I corrected, "My name is Jenaveve, ma'am." 

She sighed dramatically and said, "Answer the question, Liz." 

I was annoyed clearly she was trying to shove her position of power over me, yet realizing I probably shouldn't have corrected her, I answered truthfully, "I honestly don't know, ma'am." 

She stood up from her desk and walked around in front of me. She asked, looking down at me, creating a clear power shift between her and me, "What is the difference between you and I?" 

I wanted to say, 'you have a rich daddy who gave you this job', but that didn't seem to be a good career move. 

Instead, I pondered for a moment and answered, "You're Italian and I'm Mexican."

Immediately, Vaughn popped back into my head, he being Italian too. 

"Well, there is that, too," she nodded, before she continued, "I dress as a professional and you dress as if you're going out to be a stripper." 

I could have joked I was actually taking dance pole lessons and that one of my newer fantasies was to be forced to be a stripper, but that didn't seem like a good career move either. 

Yet, I was also offended. I was wearing a blue blouse, black skirt and practical one inch heels. 

Conversely, she was wearing a flower patterned blouse, a shorter leather skirt and ridiculously silly five inch heels...if anyone was unprofessional it was definitely her. 

Yet, I couldn't say that. 

So I said, "I don't understand, ma'am." 

"Professional women wear nylons," she explained. 

I had always detested pantyhose, wearing them only for weddings and funerals... I didn't even wear them to my own wedding. 

I explained, "Oh, sorry ma'am. That has never been a concern at the firm before and I have never been a fan of them." 

She said, "This is a professional place of business and you will dress accordingly." 

"Yes, ma'am," I nodded, feeling belittled which oddly made my panties dampen, which immediately mortified me. 

She then went on a lengthy, mostly one-sided conversation of her vision of the firm. She asked me questions on occasion, but mostly it was like a teacher-student relationship. 

Once I was dismissed, I pondered why I got wet while being belittled by her. Yes, if she were a man that would make sense, but I had never considered being with a woman. 

I brushed it off and focused on proving I was an amazing employee, going out and buying a few different pairs of pantyhose. I always felt they were redundant because of how dark my legs already were (I actual found it amusing that white women attempted to look black by wearing black pantyhose or look Indian by wearing dark coloured pantyhose). 

Yet, nothing I did ever seemed to be good enough. The big name clients began to go to other accountants and I was soon doing the generic individual tax returns and even being tasked with menial jobs like filing. 

I was incredibly frustrated, but with the market slow down, there were not many other jobs available. 

I also noticed a shift, over time, on how I was treated. I went from being widely respected and the top accountant in the firm, to being ignored and treated like I was low woman on the totem pole. 

Then it got even worse. 

One of the accountants who started after me, who was relatively incompetent, but ridiculously good looking, walked into my office and ordered, "I want this file done by Monday." 

I glared at him, resenting his rise at my expense and said, "I'm pretty sure that is your portfolio." 

"Look Spic, I wasn't asking for fucking commentary. Just do as you're told," he firmly ordered. 

I gasped. Although he had always been smarmy, checking out my voluptuous 38D breasts, and lately even slapping my ass a couple times, this authoritative side was very new...and frustratingly hot. 

As I stared at him in shock, he added, "Just pretend you are back at Harvard and taking the orders on your knees." 

Before I could respond, he walked away. 

Fear coursed through my entire being. Somehow he knew of my slutty one night where I was gang banged by three guys. 


I always worried my high school past would come back to haunt me. 

Yet, it was my one reckless moment in four years of college, one drunken wild night, which was now staring me in the face. 

I did his work for him, coming in for twelve hours both Saturday and Sunday and handed it to him Monday morning. 

He didn't even look up at me as he said. "Thanks." 

"You're welcome," I politely replied, before asking, "You'll keep it a secret?" 

"Sure," he nodded, still not looking up, "but I think I may want a piece of that bubble butt ass of yours in return." 

I wasn't completely surprised by this, his blackmailing me seemed the next logical step, but I pointed out, "I'm married." 

"To a nigger," he replied, finally looking up. "A slut like you needs a dominant white man to please you, don't you?" 

I could feel my face burning, flashing back to Vaughn and the dominance he had over me...a dominance that Johnathan tried to replicate, but being sweet and black he could only role play so well. 

The reality was that as much as I loved my husband, as much as he tried to make all my fantasies as authentic as possible, he couldn't replace the dominant white man I lusted over...craved. Black just cannot become white. 

"Yes, he is a handsome black man," I corrected, trying to hide my submissiveness and the reality that my panties were damp from him. 

"He's a nigger, a second level citizen, which is higher than third level wanna-be-American people like you are," he said, venom and racial hatred spewing from his tongue. 

"T-t-that's ludicrous," I stammered, even as I no longer saw him as Bryce, but as a strong white man who could put me in my natural place. 

Instead of responding, I walked out fuming at both his attitude and my own internal weakness. 


Over the next week, he did a variety of things which were definitely sexual harassment: 

-He would walk by and cup my breasts when no one was around. 

-He would call me his gangbang slut. 

-He would squeeze my ass and whisper that it would soon again be filled with white dick, his stiff bulge rubbing my ass. 

-He left a picture on my desk of a white dick, assumedly his, which looked so big, thick and appetizing. 

That Monday, there was a note on my desk saying that I was to see him as soon as I arrived. 

Reluctantly, I went to his office, worried what he may have in store for me...yet, undeniably, also a little excited. 'Fuck! Underneath my career persona I am indeed a slut!' I thought to myself. I then decided for myself to be the proud Mexican I was, the strong feminist I tried to be, and stand up to the fucking leech. 

I turned my phone on record, hoping I would get enough information to use against him if he tied to blackmail me...a little tit for tat. 

As soon as I entered his office, he ordered, "Close the door." 

I did. 

"So have you been fantasizing about my cock all weekend?" He asked. 

Truth be told, this weekend I had Johnathan role play being a fellow accountant and forcing me to be his cum slut, all the while in my head imagining it was Bryce. 

I lied, "No." 

"Fucking Spic liar," he roared. "We both know you're just another Latina cum slut for white cock." 

It was true, but I wasn't going to admit it and potentially lose my career. I needed to prove him wrong to put a stop to his advance and, in turn, prove him wrong for myself. 

"I am not!" I firmly responded. 

"Stop the facade," he sighed, "you married a nigger to hide your true feelings, but both of you were put on this earth to be slaves. You can only do so much for each other, you need a Master, as does he." 

I was shocked by his racial accusations towards my husband. There was no way he knew that underneath my husband's firm, black body was a natural submissive. Yet, frustratingly, as I tried to remain cool and in control, I could feel my panties dampen. I responded sarcastically, "God put me on this earth to be a slave?" 

"Exactly," he nodded, ignoring my sarcastic tone. "Spics and niggers were created to work for their superior white masters, it really is black and white, or in this case brown and white." He laughed at his own silly joke. 

"So you're automatically a master because you are white?" I questioned, trying to understand how he ticked, both to hopefully use against him and also to answer my own personal curiosity of how white guys like him think. 

"It's the way it's always been and the way it'll always be," he shrugged. 

I protested, "But times are changing." 

"Are they really?" He asked. "You look the part of the business class, you play the part of the upper class, but that is all you do...play. Underneath the expensive outfits, fancy degree and hard worth ethic is the truth." 

"And what is that?" I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm. I knew I had enough on my phone to charge him with sexual harassment, but really was intrigued with where he was going. If I was really smart, I would have walked away right then and there, the power was now back in my hands, yet that isn't what I did. 

"A big butt, ass slut who will do anything for a big white cock," he answered. 

"That's what you see?" I questioned, wondering if that was what others saw too. Did others see through my professional exterior and see the true me? The sexual deviant who loved getting ass fucked, loved getting her face covered in cum, loved to obey orders? 

Ignoring my question, he ordered, "Now get under my desk and suck my cock." 

My mouth instantly watered, my cunt instantly soaked my panties, and yet I tried to remain dignified and deny my internal carnal urge to obey. "Bryce, this has gone too far," I informed him. 

"Agreed," he nodded, rolling his chair back. He stood up and walked to me, "this charade of being a strong-willed woman when we both know you're just a Mexican cum bucket who craves submission to white cock needs to end." 

I hated that he was right. That at this moment I was as fragile as the ice on a frozen lake in spring. I knew if I didn't leave that second I would submit to him. 

I turned to leave. 

"Stop, Spic," he demanded. 

I froze. 

"Good ass slut," he said. "Isn't that the name you liked when you were gangbanged?" 

How did he know that? All night, the three of them called me their brown ass slut, each taking turns fucking my ass before depositing their loads on my face or tits. 

"I bet that cunt of yours is soaking wet thinking of my white cock drilling your asshole," he smugly predicted. 

"H-h-how do you know about that?" I stammered, not turning around. 

"One of the three was my brother," he revealed. "When he was visiting last month, he is engaged to Michelle by the way, he recognized you and almost crapped his pants," he revealed. 

Well, that may explain Michelle's hatred of me. I had fucked her fiancé. Did she know??? 




"What?" He quipped, "white cock got your tongue?" 

I was speechless. Mortified my past had caught up to me, ashamed I was completely turned on and desperate to find a way to refuse the temptation before me. 

"Knees, cum slut," he ordered. 

I didn't even realize my body was lowering as I pondered the question. 

"Crawl over and under my desk," he ordered. 

Shame burning through me, I turned around, head down, and crawled as instructed. 

"You're dying for a nice big white cock, aren't you, slut?" He asked. 

I whispered the truth, as I reached him, "Yes." 

"Yes, what?" He asked, as I crawled under his desk, completely humiliated and simultaneously soaking wet in my panties. 

"Yes, I want a nice big white cock in my mouth," I admitted, suddenly the words ringing completely true. 

I missed being used; I missed being dominated; I missed white cock. 

I felt guilty that I was cheating on my husband, yet I knew deep down he would understand. He would know I had no choice... when the white flag was offered I had no choice but to surrender. 

He rolled his chair back and ordered, "Get to work, Lizzy, this is part of your new job duties now." 

I hated being called Lizzy, even more than Liz, but I was transfixed by the task at hand. A big white cock to suck. It had been years since I had a white cock in my hands, my mouth or ass. I fished his cock out, trying not to look eager, even though I was dying to suck it. 

Once I pulled it out, already half hard, I leaned forward in the dark enclosed space and took it in my mouth. 

"That's it, be the fucking latina cum slut you were meant to be," he groaned softly. 

His words were absurd, I wasn't meant to be a cum slut, I was meant to do great things. Yet, as his cock grew in my mouth, something I still marvelled over every time it happened, I pondered how I could be two entirely different beings: a hard working proud feminist Latina and also a dirty cum slut spic that would do anything a white man said. There were no easy answers to this doppelgänger persona of mine, and the mixture of excitement and shame never seemed to give me any clue either. 

I was mortified I was under his desk sucking his cock at work. 

I was dripping wet that I was under his desk sucking his cock at work. 

I was terrified I would be caught and lose my job. 

I was filled with adrenaline at the possibility of getting caught. 

I was ashamed by the fact that he was treating me like a, what did he call me, third class citizen...just another slut for him to use; conversely, my cunt was burning with need. 

I was wet as hell at being used as a dirty latina cocksucker willing to obey any white man with a big thick dick. 

These oxymorons, these conflicting emotions, spun inside me creating anxiety, excitement, shame and lust. 

"Your big mouth finally has a purpose," he quipped, once he was fully hard and I was slowly bobbing on his cock. 

Suddenly the door opened and his secretary said, sounding confused, "Um, your nine o'clock is here." 

"Send him in," he answered, as I froze with a mouthful of dick. 

"Where is Mrs. Parker?" She asked. 

"Under my desk," he answered, nonchalantly. 

Shame burned through me. 

"Oh," was all the secretary, who was best friends with my secretary, said. 

A moment later, he said, "Keep sucking slut." 

Petrified of getting caught, yet exhilarated at the risk like I used to get with Vaughn, I began slowly sucking his cock. 
Seconds later, he pushed my head away, put his dick back in his pants, and rolled his chair back. He stood up and greeted, "Mr. Hamilton, it's a pleasure to see you." 

I remained frozen under his desk as I realized he was having a meeting with someone who had been my client for the past three years. 

"You too, Mr. Jones," Mr. Hamilton said. 

"Oh, call me Bryce," Bryce insisted, being his usual personable self. He wasn't bright, or a hard worker, but he could schmooze. 

"Sure, Bryce," he replied, as he walked and sat down just a foot away from me, unaware that I was in the room. 

Bryce returned to his chair, rolled it back under and pointed to his cock. 

I very quietly unzipped his pants as they talked. 

"So why is Jenaveve not working on my account anymore?" 

"Her portfolio has changed," Bryce answered, as I got his dick out again. 

"I was very happy with her work," Mr. Hamilton said. 

"She is very thorough," Bryce said, just as I took his cock back in my mouth. He added, "She will still be working on your account. The only difference is that I will be the lead on it." 

"Great," I heard him say, which made me feel good about myself even as I was on my knees sucking cock like some cheap slut...the kind of thing I would criticize and resent my cousins for. 

They chatted for another fifteen minutes before Mr. Hamilton left, saying he planned to chat with me. 

As soon as he was gone, Bryce ordered, "You better hurry and get your morning dose of dominant cum, he's going to be looking for you." 

I immediately shifted from slow to fast, bobbing like the cum hungry slut I was at the moment, ignoring the ridiculous 'dominant cum' statement. 

Thankfully, he was close and in less than a minute I was swallowing his load. 

As he rolled back his chair, he smiled, "Be thankful I didn't shoot my load on that cock sucking face of yours." 

"Thank you," I absurdly said, actually thankful indeed that he didn't do that. 

"Hurry along, Mr. Hamilton is looking to chat with you," he reminded me, looking down at me. 

I quickly crawled out from under the desk, shame again coursing through my body, like it always did after I finished a subservient, degrading task, and headed out. 

His secretary, giving me a knowing smirk said, "Mr. Hamilton is looking for you." 

"Thanks, Cameron," I nodded. 

"It's Ms. Abbey," she corrected, announcing her own sudden power play. 

"Sorry," I nodded, immediately in submissive mode, now to a white woman in her early twenties, "thank you, Ms. Abbey." 

I quickly returned to my office and saw Mr. Hamilton talking to my secretary. I greeted, "Hi, Mr. Hamilton, nice to see you." 

"You too," he nodded, "no one seemed to know where you were." 

"I had to step out to deal with a personal matter," I lied, before joking, "but I'm here now." 

We went into my office and chatted. He admitted he was concerned about me not being in charge of his account and I stressed it was not my choice but Ms. Goldstein's. 

He said he planned on chatting with her next. After a few minutes of generic chat about life and business he headed out and I collapsed in my chair a complete mess. 

I had little time to recover before meeting with the junior accountants. 

The next four days I blew Bryce. On Tuesday again under his desk; on Wednesday while he sat on his desk; on Thursday in my office, which somehow left me way more anxiety riddled; Friday, after work, in his car. 

Each load was shot down my throat until Friday when he coated my face, before kicking me out and making me walk through the parking lot with cum all over my face. Shame compounding shame; yet, sexually I was getting off with the obedience.

I wasn't surprised when the following Monday he insisted I stay after work and meet him in his office. 

I also wasn't surprised when he bent me over his desk, pulled down my pantyhose and panties and slammed his white dick in my ass. 

I screamed, loving the complete submissiveness of giving my ass to him, and was thankful the majority of coworkers were already gone for the day, "Oh, fuck." 

"Fuck, for such a slut, you sure have a tight ass," he groaned, as he reamed my shit hole. 

"Your cock is thicker than my husband's," I admitted, somehow wanting him to know such details. 

He laughed, "So 'all niggers have gigantic dicks' is a myth?" 

Johnathan had a nice seven inch snake that filled me perfectly, but it wasn't as thick as Bryce's dick. 

"I don't know," I answered, having very limited experience with black dick. But white dick sizes varied greatly in length and girth. In truth, it wasn't the size of the dick for me, but the colour, how they used it and how they treated me. 

As I got used to his dick tearing my ass apart, the pleasure that always replaced the pain began to come and I shifted from whimpering to moaning. 

"My mexican cum slut is beginning to enjoy it in her ass, isn't she?" he asked. 

"Yessss," I admitted, loving nothing more than being dominated, used and ass fucked. 

"What would your nigger husband say if he walked in right now and saw his big butt wife taking it in her ass?" he asked, continuing to pound me with all eight inches of white meat, filling me completely with each forceful thrust. 

Based on our many role plays, he would do as he was told. Although he had never been ass fucked by a guy, he regularly took my strap-on in his ass as we role played slave and mistress owner. As already mentioned, like me, he was submissive to whites, for him it was white privileged women. He too had his own stories of sexual submission to a white person...his last, also while we were apart in college, ending with him cleaning her white feet every day and eventually getting bent over and ass fucked daily by a white rich girl half his size. I personally always wanted to meet this white dominant, but never had...nor did he have any pictures of her. 

Again, why we were so perfect for each other...twistedly, in a fucked up way... but perfect. 

I even imagined he would enjoy watching me get used, like he often did to me, yet it wasn't something we actually talked about... so I lied, "He'd probably beat the shit out of you." 

"Like I'm beating the shit out of you," he joked, slamming into me so hard the desk moved. 

I screamed, "Fuck, yes, slam that big white dick in my shit hole." 

"Such a dirty mouth," he said, as he pulled out, shoved me to the ground, and slammed his cock in my mouth. 

The only thing more humiliating than taking a white dick in the ass was sucking a white dick that had just been in my ass. I gasped briefly, as all eight inches went in my mouth, but I quickly got accustomed to it. Years of experience had made me a damn good cocksucker. 

After a minute, he ordered, "Bend back over again." 

I quickly did, wanting his dick back in my ass, looking like the compliant spic slut I was. 

"You want my dominant cock back in your fat ass, don't you?" He asked, tapping his cock between my ass cheeks. 

"Yes, I want your big white fuck stick buried deep in my fat latina asshole," I admitted, wriggling my ass in desperation. Willingly degrading myself to please him. 

"Beg, bitch," he ordered, poking his dick at my gaping asshole but not going in. 

"Oh please, use this Mexican whore and pound her ass with your big, dominant, powerful, white prick. Make me your slave, and personal cum bucket," I begged, willing to be all those things if given the chance...shedding completely my proud Mexican, feminist, business persona. 

"And to think you acted like you were better than me," he laughed, as he slid his dick back in my rear. 

"Yessssss," I moaned, "pound your slave's ass with your massive cock." 

And he did. 

As my orgasm began to build, he asked, "What would your family think of you bent over taking it your big fat shit hole?" 

I winced at the sudden mention of my family; I had shamed my parents once all those years ago, and have always felt guilty over it. It had doubled my efforts to be a good girl, something I had done, for the most part, except for that one wild night in college (and I suppose the role play with my husband). Yet, so close to orgasm, I wasn't thinking about moral dignity but being the fuck slut I am. "They'd know the truth," I answered, ready to erupt. 

"That you are a disgrace to your race, being a white cock slut?" he questioned, pounding me so hard I couldn't help but agree. 

My orgasm erupted through me with electric intensity and I screamed, "Ay, fucking God, ay, Papi." 

It was so loud, I immediately worried that anyone still here, especially the janitors, would hear me and know exactly what was happening. Many of the after-hours help were Latinas from a variety of southern countries, all who likely saw me as either a symbol of success or a bitch who betrayed her ethnic background to get ahead, most likely from being a Gringa slut ( Gringa being a term given to Mexican women who had been Americanized). 

"Holy shit, I've never seen a chick orgasm from getting ass fucked," he laughed in disbelief. "You're the biggest fucking slut I've ever met." 

"Thank you," I said, as absurd as that sounded, somehow feeling pride at being the biggest slut. 

"Where do you want my cum?" he asked. 

"Fill my asshole with it," I begged, loving feeling hot cum spray in my ass and loving the feeling of walking around with cum leaking from it. 

"As you wish," he grunted, seconds later, as he spewed his seed in me. 

"Yes, fill your slut's asshole," I moaned, as he continued shooting inside my ass, even as my orgasm continued its lengthy course through me. 

When he pulled out, I spun around, dropped to my knees and eagerly took his dick in my mouth to retrieve any last remnants of his cum, a taste I was already addicted to after a week of constant cum swallowing. As I sucked his dick, I could feel his cum dripping out of my ass. 

"Biggest slut ever," he groaned, clearly amused at how I could shift from serious business woman to complete cum whore so easily. 

When he pulled out, I stood up and he looked down and saw a small puddle of his cum on the floor. 

"You left a mess," he pointed. 

I dropped back to my knees and licked the cum off the floor, just one more act of submissive slut humiliation to add to my growing portfolio. 

"See you tomorrow, slut," he said. 

"Yes, sir," I nodded, again showing my submissive nature, literally unable to show even the hint of strength once my natural submissiveness awoke. 

When I left his office, there was a Cuban janitor looking right at me, a janitor I had never treated very well because of my dislike for Cubans. Unfortunately, he knew exactly what had happened and as I passed him he quipped, "Ay, Papi." 

Shame immediately returned as yet another member of the office, albeit just a janitor, knew the truth. 

I went to my office to pack up and leave, when the janitor walked in and closed the door. 

"Excuse me?" I questioned, even though I could already tell where this was going. 

"You're one slutty chula," he accused, walking towards me. 

"Excuse me?" I questioned, even though I heard him. 

"Just another Gringa slut," the Cuban janitor continued, now standing in front of me, his crotch in my face. 

"Please leave," I ordered, even as I prepared for him to blackmail me. Trying to stay in control and show him I was still in charge, I ordered, "Or I will have you fired." 

He laughed, "No, you are going to suck my cock like the Mexican whore you are, just like all you fucking Mexicans." 

Being ridiculed by a Cuban pissed me off, not remotely turning me on, but I felt helpless since he knew first hand of my recent transgression. 

"Fine," I said, although my tone made it clear I wasn't happy about it. 

I fished out his cock, which because he was about sixty years old was still flaccid...although to my surprise it was quite long...thin like a pencil, but long. 

I took it in my mouth and allowed it to grow, which, again, because of his age, took way longer than any other guy I had ever blown. 

Although the humiliation of being dominated by a white man, regardless of original nationality (Italian, Norwegian, Ukrainian, French, British, etc) was a major turn-on, there was only humiliation at sucking a sixty year old Cuban's cock. 

My Mexican pride cursed me at serving a Cuban, yet I didn't see any way out of my predicament. 

He groaned, "That's it, puta, slobber all over my dick." 

I wanted to bite it off, being called a puta, slut in Spanish, from a Cuban only added to my humiliation. I just wanted to get this over with. 

Yet, he wouldn't come. I sucked his cock for twenty minutes while he constantly called me 'puta', and 'Gringa' over and over, driving me nuts. 

Finally, my jaw beginning to get sore, he ordered, as he grabbed my head and began fucking my face, "Take all my cum, you fucking cheap Mexican puta." 

I had no choice as he roughly fucked my face, gagging on his long pecker a couple of times, before he shot the tiniest load of cum I'd ever swallowed. I thought to myself 'Really? All that work for that? Typical fucking Cuban...he can't even ejaculate properly." 

When he pulled out, he smiled, tapping his dick on my nose, "Thank me, Gringa." 

I glared at him before noticing he was holding his phone. 

I snapped, "Did you film this?" 

He shrugged, "Who would believe it otherwise?" 

"Delete it," I demanded, standing up. 

"Thank me, Gringa," he demanded back, pushing me back onto my chair. 

I was furious. Visual evidence could completely ruin by career. I glared at him, "Thank you," I reluctantly said through gritted teeth. 

"For what?" He asked, revelling in his power over me. 

"For letting me suck your cock," I answered. 

"Don't worry Gringa, you'll get many opportunities to get your Cuban fix," he smirked, as he walked away. 

I wanted to make some quick comeback, yet I couldn't think of one and I didn't want to make an incredibly shitty situation worse...disgusted that I was now being blackmailed by a Cuban. 

Exhausted, both mentally and physically, I headed home, guilt at cheating coursing through me and sensing that this was only the beginning. 

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