Ah, the shit people do when they think nobody’s looking, now that’s some fucked up stuff. Pardon my French. My name is Jasmine Altidor. I was born in the town of Cap-Haitien in the island of Haiti and raised in the province of Ontario, Canada. These days I attend Ryerson University in the City of Toronto, where I study civil engineering. Working as a security guard wasn’t paying the bills so I supplemented my income by working as a stripper. My strip joint is called the Golden Slipper, and it’s in downtown Toronto. I’m one of four Black females among the throngs of White women working there. Doesn’t bother me none because us Black chicks are popular with the clients. We got cute bodies and hot booties. The White chicks for the most part tend to be flat in the ass department, except for the French Canadian and Brazilian women. They’re alright.
I don’t consider myself particularly religious but sometimes I attend the All Worlds Church, a Nigerian church located in the City of Toronto. The Pastor of the church is a Nigerian guy, as are most of the congregation. There are Haitians, Jamaicans, Lebanese, Cameroonians, Brazilians, Ethiopians, Dominicans and Cubans among them now because the mostly Nigerian church has been trying to diversify. They have locations in other parts of Canada as well as several countries in the continent of Africa and the islands of the Caribbean. All Worlds Church even opened up a university somewhere in the vastness of Africa. I guess they’re doing big things. I got chased out of the biggest Haitian church in Toronto so All Worlds Church has become my spiritual home. Yes, I am sinning by working as a stripper but I don’t give a shit what people think. I am who I am. I do what I do because I got bills to pay.
It’s expensive to live in the City of Toronto. One of the biggest cities in the continent of North America. Right up there with New York and the others. It’s the business capital of Canada. Home of the lame-ass Raptors. I’m more of a football gal and I support the Toronto Argonauts professional football team in the Canadian Football League. If I wasn’t studying civil engineering, I’d want to do sports broadcasting. They need some color on Canadian television. For real. I’m five-foot-eleven, not skinny but not fat, but curvy where it counts. I have dark brown skin, long Black hair which I braided into neat cornrows and I also have big tits, wide hips and a big round ass. What they call a ghetto booty around these parts. Anyhow, I was working the stripper pole at work last Friday night when I noticed a familiar face among the throngs of men glaring at me and the other chicks as we did our thing.
Tall and very good-looking Black guy in a business suit. Are my eyes deceiving me or is that Kelvin Wahid? Why, it was him! None other than the only son of Pastor Kline Wahid, the Nigerian-born and Oxford-educated Pastor of the All Worlds Church of Toronto, Ontario? Kelvin Wahid was considered a big wig around the All Worlds Church. Not only was he the preacher man’s son, but he also had an MBA from Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, and worked for the Royal Bank of Canada’s Dominion Securities division. I’d recognize Kelvin’s exotic good looks anywhere. The dude was Black, yes, but with a lot of other stuff in him. You see, his father Pastor Kline Wahid was biracial, born to a Lebanese Christian father and Nigerian mother in northern Nigeria. His family emigrated to the City of London, England, where he attended Oxford University. He worked in business and financing before going to Theology School and becoming a pastor. He married a Black woman from Ethiopia, Susan Tilahun, the future First Lady of All Worlds Church and the mother of Kelvin Wahid, enfant terrible of Toronto, Ontario.
Yep, I’d recognize Kelvin Wahid’s mug anywhere. There he was, standing with a couple of his buddies. They were getting a lap dance from Candy Wilds also known as Jennifer O’Shea, this blonde-haired White chick with a big ass. She’s half Irish and half Brazilian. Kelvin and his buddies were so absorbed into what Candy Wilds was doing that they didn’t notice me. I finished my dance, then discreetly took a few pictures of Kelvin and his pals. I got a perfect shot of Kelvin reaching for Candy’s big pale ass, and I definitely got a ton of pictures of him and his buddies getting tossed out of the club by the bouncers because no man is allowed to touch the strippers in the club. Half the time, the bouncers are dating the strippers and the female bartenders or they’re good friends so they love roughing up clients who try to touch the ladies. That’s how we do at the Golden Slipper, ladies and gentlemen. You can look but you can’t touch. As for me, I smiled to myself. Looks like I got myself another meal ticket. I guess it’s true what they say. The sons and daughters of preachers tend to be the wildest of the bunch. And sonny is about to get a rude surprise from yours truly.
Finding out where Kelvin Wahid worked was all too easy. The Wahid family loves to brag about what they do, what they own and where they go on vacation. Insert names like Paris, Rio De Janeiro, London, Johannesburg and Amsterdam. I went to the Royal Bank of Canada’s Dominion Securities office in downtown Toronto and pretended to be dropping off a surprise for my ‘boyfriend’ Kelvin Wahid. The clerk I spoke to practically salivated at the sight of me and told me he’d make sure Kelvin Wahid got the message. Inside an envelope, Kelvin Wahid would see doubles of the pictures of him and his buddies in the strip club with that trashy slut Candy. Shots of them getting thrown out. And all that jazz. Inside the envelope was a cellphone number, belonging to a prepaid account. Within half an hour, I got a call from Kelvin Wahid.
Frantically, he asked to know who I was. I muffled my voice, and switched it up thanks to voice acting training I had received. I sounded as masculine as Samuel L. Jackson. I told him that I was his blackmailer and he had better do what I say. Lest his family and his business associates find out what kind of freak he really was. I waited after saying this. I could hear the panic in Kelvin’s voice. Dude was soft. I asked him for four grand, and told him to meet me in front of a shady warehouse in the east end. In two hours. He began protesting, saying he had work to do. I told him that if he didn’t show up on time, he wouldn’t have a job to worry about. That convinced him. I hung up, and smiled. This was all too easy.
I showed up, and found Kelvin Wahid waiting for me. Dude was pacing near his bright red Mercedes, looking nervous as hell. I approached him with my hoodie on, along with sunglasses and a scarf pulled over my nose, almost totally masking my face. He seemed surprised that I was a woman, and demanded to know where the guy whom he spoke to was. I told him I was the guy’s agent, and that the dude was watching nearby, gun in hand, so he’d better do as he was told. Kelvin basically had no poker face because he fell for this lie. He handed me two grand in cash even before I handed him the originals of the pictures. He took them, relief showing on that handsome mug of his. I felt angry. Rich guys like him get away with everything because they got money. I wanted to make Kelvin Wahid pay, and not with money. I pretended to pick up my phone and listened. I looked at him icily and told him there was a change of plans.
Kelvin Wahid stared at me, shook his head and said he was getting the fuck out of there. I pointed out to a darkened window in the warehouse and told him the mastermind was watching. A shiny red light came on, from a mini camera I left upstairs. I activated the light with a switch I held in my hand. In Kelvin’s panicked mind, the red light looked like a sniper’s telescopic gun light thingy. Panic washed over his face once more. Smiling coldly, I told him to follow me into the warehouse unless he wanted to get shot. Kelvin Wahid did as he was told. Once inside, I put my wildest plan in motion. Looking Kelvin in the eyes, I told him to drop his trousers. Dude stared at me like I was a Martian. I clicked on a device I had in my hand, and a pre-recorded male voice came from upstairs. That loud masculine voice, straight out of a gangster movie, told Kelvin to do as he was told unless he wanted to motherfucking die. Like the soft bitch he was, Kelvin dropped his trousers.
I looked at him. Preacher man’s son had an average-sized dick, yet he was prancing at the club like he was the king. Whatever. I told him to get on his knees and he obeyed. I took out my strap-on dildo from my bag, and Kelvin Wahid’s eyes went wide. I smacked his face, and told him to suck my plastic cock. After a brief hesitation, the preacher’s son did as he was told. Dude sucked my strap-on dildo like his life depended on it. I smiled, loving the sight of a tall Black dude like him on his knees, sucking my plastic cock. I always wanted to dominate someone bigger and stronger than me. Looks like I’m getting the chance today. After Kelvin finished sucking me off, I told him to spread his ass for me. A panicked look filled his face, and he blurted out that he wasn’t a faggot. I smacked his face and told him that if a guy fucks a guy, then it’s gay stuff. If a woman fucks a man with a dildo, it’s straight because it’s sexual activity between a man and a female. That seemed to satisfy Kelvin, and he did as he was told. Dude just got on all fours and spread his ass for me like it was nothing. Hmmm. Nice and obedient, he’s a good bitch.
I sprayed lubricant on my dildo before pushing it against Kelvin’s asshole. Holding his hips tightly, I pushed the dildo into his butt. The tall Black man squealed as I penetrated him. Yep, dude didn’t scream or groan. He squealed like a bitch. I smacked his ass and began fucking him. I asked him what his little church friends would think if they could see him now. Kelvin begged me not to reveal his secrets to them. I laughed and totally owned his ass with my dildo. I dug his guts with it, pounding his ass good and hard. Dude was no anal virgin. Definitely not. His ass was too loose, even with the lubricant I used. I asked him if he’d been giving up the ass to some men or to some other bitches. He denied it, and I fucked him some more. I fucked Kelvin’s ass with my strap-on dildo until he squealed, and practically passed out. Dude slumped on the floor, breathless. I pulled my dildo out of his dirty ass and whirled him around.
Kelvin looked at me with surprise in those brown eyes of his. I smiled, and told him to get his shit and leave. He did just that. Took off in a screech of tires. As for me, I was four grand richer. I wouldn’t have to worry about rent for a while, and I could go shopping. Yay for me. Who says crime doesn’t pay? Especially blackmail, the most fun of all swindles one can pull. The next time I saw Kelvin Wahid in church, dude was walking a bit funny. I guess I fucked up his ass with my strap-on dildo. It’s alright. He’s a strong Black man. He’ll live. As for me, I’m just a lonely, bored sister trying to get by. Lucky for me, I know how to make my own fun.