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The White slave knelt on the cold hard floor of his owners huge bathroom, the laugher of his Black Gods and Goddesses boomed out over his head. His Master sat in the middle of the champagne bath surrounded by attractive women, the white boy knew that his master would pick one or two or three of them to fuck later that night. He would hear the moans and screams of joy echoing down to his tiny slave room as his puny white cock strained at its chastity cage and tears ran down his face. He had lain there and heard his master fucking each night since he had been bought ten years ago, it was something he was used to by now. Or as used to as you could ever get. He knew as a white boy in this world sex was not for him, sex with Black Goddesses like these was something he dare not even dream about. In a way he felt proud to belong to a Man who could fuck women like this. These women where Goddesses, born to rule over scum like him. As a white boy the only interactions he had with them or any of the women Master brought home was when he got to fetch them drinks, lick their shoes clean, open his mouth so they could toss in their gum or stub out their joints or get on his hands and knees to scrub up their vomit after a long night or drinking. How lucky he was to get to clean and cook and fetch and cary for a Black God who could make women like this scream and cry out in joy as they came.
He could never even dream of that, right now as he knelt by the side of the bathtub ready to hand over fresh bottles of champagne all he could think about was the perfect Black sole a few inches from his face. It flexed and glittered in the light as Master poured a ten thousand dollar bottle of champagne over it. She did not gasp or cry out it was as if she where used to having her feet bathed in a liquid worth a year of most free whites salary's and why should she not be? She was lay in a tub filled with the stuff. He face looked out at him as all the others where turned away or looking at each other, there was a look in her eyes, as if she where thinking "See white boy how low you are in this world. Look at the bottom of my foot as I use more money than you will ever see just to clean between my toes. Look how low down in this world you are, the sole of my foot is above you." A faint hit of mirth in that face, a look one might give an ex boss if you found them begging for change in the street. But then again the white slave though as the foot flex as the Goddess lay back in the tub maybe she was not thinking of him at all. After all who feels the need to flex to a toilet just because they get to shit in it? He was white, she was Black, she was better them him and they all knew it. The crushing weight of how low down he was in the world crashed down on him all over again and he had to blink back tears and try to talk himself in to being happy with his lot. The faint hint of being seen, or being worthy even of laugher had pulled him back in to his old ways, of dreaming of a better life and it hurt to feel that way. To be shown with something as small as the tilt of her head just how the Black Gods and Goddesses viewed white scum like him. Looking at her mighty Black sole he felt as crushed as if he where an ant that had found itself in the path of her foot. The full scale of the wealth, power, beauty and superiority of his Black Gods washed over him once again. His Masters voice boomed down to him from beyond the foot of the Goddess "Another bottle you cum colored bitch, I was to wash that other pretty foot!" The laugher of the Black Goddesses filled the white losers mind.

Description
Story Text:

The White slave knelt on the cold hard floor of his owners huge bathroom, the laugher of his Black Gods and Goddesses boomed out over his head. His Master sat in the middle of the champagne bath surrounded by attractive women, the white boy knew that his master would pick one or two or three of them to fuck later that night. He would hear the moans and screams of joy echoing down to his tiny slave room as his puny white cock strained at its chastity cage and tears ran down his face. He had lain there and heard his master fucking each night since he had been bought ten years ago, it was something he was used to by now. Or as used to as you could ever get. He knew as a white boy in this world sex was not for him, sex with Black Goddesses like these was something he dare not even dream about. In a way he felt proud to belong to a Man who could fuck women like this. These women where Goddesses, born to rule over scum like him. As a white boy the only interactions he had with them or any of the women Master brought home was when he got to fetch them drinks, lick their shoes clean, open his mouth so they could toss in their gum or stub out their joints or get on his hands and knees to scrub up their vomit after a long night or drinking. How lucky he was to get to clean and cook and fetch and cary for a Black God who could make women like this scream and cry out in joy as they came.
He could never even dream of that, right now as he knelt by the side of the bathtub ready to hand over fresh bottles of champagne all he could think about was the perfect Black sole a few inches from his face. It flexed and glittered in the light as Master poured a ten thousand dollar bottle of champagne over it. She did not gasp or cry out it was as if she where used to having her feet bathed in a liquid worth a year of most free whites salary's and why should she not be? She was lay in a tub filled with the stuff. He face looked out at him as all the others where turned away or looking at each other, there was a look in her eyes, as if she where thinking "See white boy how low you are in this world. Look at the bottom of my foot as I use more money than you will ever see just to clean between my toes. Look how low down in this world you are, the sole of my foot is above you." A faint hit of mirth in that face, a look one might give an ex boss if you found them begging for change in the street. But then again the white slave though as the foot flex as the Goddess lay back in the tub maybe she was not thinking of him at all. After all who feels the need to flex to a toilet just because they get to shit in it? He was white, she was Black, she was better them him and they all knew it. The crushing weight of how low down he was in the world crashed down on him all over again and he had to blink back tears and try to talk himself in to being happy with his lot. The faint hint of being seen, or being worthy even of laugher had pulled him back in to his old ways, of dreaming of a better life and it hurt to feel that way. To be shown with something as small as the tilt of her head just how the Black Gods and Goddesses viewed white scum like him. Looking at her mighty Black sole he felt as crushed as if he where an ant that had found itself in the path of her foot. The full scale of the wealth, power, beauty and superiority of his Black Gods washed over him once again. His Masters voice boomed down to him from beyond the foot of the Goddess "Another bottle you cum colored bitch, I was to wash that other pretty foot!" The laugher of the Black Goddesses filled the white losers mind.