OWNED BY OLITA by Throne (Patreon)

OWNED BY OLITA by Throne

© 2019-2050 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to Devinwhitegurl@gmail.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

***DEVIN DICKIE NOTE***
All characters are OVER 18 years of AGE! This is a bullying fantasy and not real. The acts in the following written work are only consensual sexual choices and fantasy humiliation scenarios.
Bullying is NOT OKAY and If you or someone you know is being bullied, please alert the authorities.

OWNED BY OLITA

by Throne

Jeffrey was a small man. On his 18th birthday his lifetime trust fund had begun paying out, so he would never have to worry about money. He also inherited a mini-mansion that was several miles outside the city, on a large plot of land, with no nearby neighbors. He liked his situation, though he certainly didn't want to do any housework. That was why he paid for a domestic. The agency sent a petite blond, a mousey little gal who he found very easy to deal with. She came three times a week and went about her work quietly. He was fond of her and longed to get to know her better but was too shy to make a move.

Everything changed one Monday, while he was still in his pajamas, robe and slippers, and someone very different showed up. Jeffrey opened his front door, expecting to see a familiar face. Instead, what he found was a tall Black woman, looking down at him. She was broadly built, with a heavy bust, a waist that tapered but was not thin, flaring hips, large thighs, and sturdy calves. Not wearing something appropriate for a housecleaner, she had on a jumpsuit with a zipper down the front. It was bright yellow. The zipper was lowered far enough to allow a peek of cleavage. He looked up at her. She had a round face and wore her hair short and natural. From her ears dangled wide hoop earrings. Her sheer size life him speechless.

"I'm Olita. That little girl told me about you and I decided I was a better fit for this job. I talked to her, personal-like, and she decided to give the account to me."

She shoved past him, her broad hip pushing him out of the way. He turned to see her bottom, two massive hemispheres. The material of her jumpsuit was stretchy and molded itself to her overstated curves.

The short man said, "I was satisfied with the previous cleaner's performance and..."

"Yeah, but she's gone. I'm here now." She looked around her. "This place is damn big. You live here alone, so there's plenty of room for me. I'm going to move in."

He didn't want that but was so intimidated that he agreed to it, as if it was a good idea. She said she had been dropped off and her bags would arrive soon. Then she wanted to know where the kitchen was. He pointed her in the right direction. Feeling it would be impolite to leave Olita alone so soon, he followed her. That double-wide rump rolled, the cheeks rubbing together, in front of his fixed gaze. She opened cabinets and inspected the contents of his refrigerator. Then the Black giantess made herself two sandwiches and helped herself to a carton of milk, from which she drank directly. She sat on a stool in the breakfast nook, at the dining island. Her rear end appeared even larger, atop that inadequate seat. She glanced back at him.

"You can go about your business," she said with authority. "I'll check around and find a bedroom I like."

"Well... um... certainly."

He retreated to the den. Jeffery tried to read, but was too distracted. Maybe he should ask her to please leave. Or he could call the agency. This was all a lot for him. He wasn't accustomed to dealing with someone so commanding. Her bags arrived, brought by a Black ruffian who spoke to her familiarly and used bad language. She had chosen an upstairs room at the end of the landing. The homeowner dithered around downstairs, deciding that he would deal with the changed circumstances later.

The next day Olita, dressed in sleeveless top and snug slacks, did a bit of housework but not much. She created additional room in the fridge by eating more of his food.

"That white girl told me you order food and have it delivered. Just give me the number and I'll have them send some stuff. Big girls got big appetites."

He felt it would be rude to deny her the opportunity to pick some groceries for herself. "I do have an account," he confirmed. "You can order online if you'd prefer. That's what I do."

"Yeah. Let me hit your computer and I'll get the cupboard all stocked up."

"There might be a few items I need for myself..."

"You just leave this up to Olita. Sign on to your computer. Oh yeah, and let me borrow your phone. I'm having some trouble with mine."

"Certainly." It was the gentlemanly thing to do. She stood behind him as he entered his password.

Olita placed a sizable order. She also made a call but didn't return the phone. He waited a while before asking for it.

"I don't think so," she said. "You ain't no man. You're a boy in a grown-up body, except it didn't grow up all the way. What you need is some mothering, and I'm the bitch to do it. Besides, I need a place to stay. There's some people looking for me. Official types, if you know what I mean. I've got what they call on them TV shows, legal entanglements, cause I did a beatdown on some white loser. So, here's the deal. I'm gonna give you what you need, for as long as I got to have a crib. Understand, boy?"

"This is highly irregular," he said, nervously taking a step in reverse.

"Don't give me no backtalk. Olita don't play that way." She grabbed his shirtfront. "Now give me what's in your pockets. Or just give me them pants. In fact, just get out of all your clothes. Let's see the real you." She chuckled.

"This is unacceptable," he told her.

"Accept this," she snapped, and slapped him across the face with her open palm. Then she backhanded him on the other side.

Jeffery was too shocked to move. He slowly brought his hands up to touch his burning cheeks.

"Now listen here," he said softly, unable to put any force into the words.

"No, you listen to me."

This time, when she grabbed his shirt, she used both hands. With savage force, she wrenched them to the sides, spraying buttons all over the place. He was terrified. Under her stern watch, he unhappily shed the damaged garment. Then he slipped off his loafers. Next, he removed his pants. All he had on were socks and jockey shorts, the underwear pale blue. Not wanting to expose his genitals sooner than he had to, he sat on the floor and took off his socks. It was like he had slipped into some alternate reality, like in a superhero movie. He was in the Olita-verse. She put her

hands on her swelling hips and sneered down at him. When he tried to speak, she set her foot between his legs, almost touching his crotch.

"You want to finish getting buck naked?" she questioned. "Or do you want me to kick whatever's in them undies, which don't look like much?"

He shuddered. "I'll do it. Please don't hurt me again."

"Again?" Her brow creased. "You mean them slaps? Those were just love taps, boy. Don't get me really riled up. You wouldn't like what happens when I blow my top."

Still on the floor, he lifted his bottom and tugged down that last piece of clothing. She snatched the shorts out of his hand and dropped them atop the rest of his discarded clothes, then kicked everything far under the sofa. His keys and wallet were still in those pants.

Olita focused her attention on the juncture of his slender legs. "Day-am, boy. There ain't hardly nothing down there, and not much hair neither. What you got ain't no cock. It's more like a baby mouse."

She grabbed him by the hair and painfully hoisted him to his feet. Walking him to a chair, she sat and dragged him across her generous and well-upholstered lap.

"What are you doing?" he whimpered.

"Setting you straight, so there won't be no doubts about who's in charge. I'm the Big Momma now and you're the naughty boy who needs to behave."

She continued her answer by bringing her big hand down hard on his bare ass, making him cry out. He grabbed the legs of the chair. As she landed swat after swat, his feet kicked. She didn't stop until he was crying uncontrollably.

The big woman demanded, "Who's in charge?" Through his tears, he said, "You are." "And who's going to be a good boy for me?" "I am."

"That's right." She landed another half dozen spanks, to finish driving home the message. "Now, you got me all overheated. I need something to settle me back down."

"I'll get you a cold beverage. You'll just have to be careful not to drink it too quickly."

She grabbed his undersized scrotum and squeezed. Agony erupted in his testicles.

She told him, "I know how to take a drink. That's not the kind of cooling down I need, fool. Imma take you to the bedroom and give you your first lesson in how to keep me happy."

He didn't understand. She got up, dumping him onto the floor. Then she grabbed him by the back of the neck and stood him upright. Olita wrapped her arm around his naked form to lift him off his feet. She tucked him under her arm and carried him effortlessly. He could barely believe what was happening. His sense of helplessness was extreme. She toted him not to her room, but to his master bedroom, and deposited him on the king-size bed. He lay there, gawking at her as she stripped. Out popped her chest-melons, which were firmer than he would have expected. Despite their size, they did not sag at all. Then he got his first look at her lower half, uncovered. She saw his wide eyes, moved close to the bed, and turned her back.

"Is this what you want to see?" Olita bent forward, to thrust her massive sitter at him. "Go on and touch it, boy."

Too scared to disobey, he did as he was told, with one hand on each buttock. The chocolate skin yielded only slightly. He felt powerful muscles underneath.

"Go on and kiss it," she urged. "Show my booty some love."

Jeffrey got up on his knees. He put his hands on her hips and leaned forward, to press his lips to the center of one cheek and then the other. She told him not to stop. It was weirdly erotic. He had very little experience with women, so this was all new to him.

She sensed his lack of familiarity and wanted to know, "Ain't you never been with a girl?"

"Not really," he confessed. "Just to hug and kiss."
"Like a schoolboy." She shook her head. "So, you still a virgin." "Yes, but..."

Her laughter cut him off. She faced the frightened little man again. Her features were a mask of lust as she announced, "I'm gonna teach you to eat pussy and make you do it so much that you'll think it's the only way to have sex. I don't keep myself all cleaned up and perfumed down there, so you have to deal with the stank."

He eyed her pubic triangle of kinky black hair. Running down the middle were her external labia, pink and protruding and rippled. The sight of them made him queasy. She got onto the bed, pushed him onto his back, and straddled his head. Her pubes waited above his face.

She told him, "You got to lick all over and up inside. Then you need to suck that button up at the top of the groove."

Her clitoris was larger than what he had viewed in nude photos online, during the occasional times he had done that, after which he always felt guilty. With her legs apart, he could see the moist interior of her vagina. It was near enough that he could smell it. The odor was fishy and made his stomach churn. Did she honestly expect him to do for her what she had described? He got his answer when she sat heavily on his nose and mouth. Her pussy lips spread and engulfed his lower face. It was like wearing a warm wet mask. His body tensed and he reflexively tried to

escape, but her considerable weight kept him pinned. With no other choice, he stuck out his tongue and tasted that unwashed slot. The flavor was awful. Even so, to prevent triggering her temper, he gave a few exploratory licks. Those inner surfaces felt like raw shellfish. He gagged and then tried again. His lips fastened onto her clitoris and sucked. He was rewarded with her moan of pleasure. Jeffrey lapped some more. She sighed. He was already coming to equate doing this well with pleasing Olita, which translated into not being punished by her.

She rode his face for what seemed like a half hour. Approximately every ten minutes, she had an orgasm. They were animated and juicy. She was a gusher. Her fluids ran down his cheeks. He also swallowed enough of the liquids to make him want to throw up. After her third climax, she relaxed and allowed him more air than he had been getting.

"That's going to be your A#1 job, honky. Do it good or I'll have to bust your nose flat to keep it out of the way."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said shakily.

"I could also get me a pair of dentist pliers and pull all your teeth. Whatever it takes to make that mouth as good as it can get at eating me."

"That won't be necessary," he insisted. Thinking that she might consider those words as backtalk, he amended, "I mean, you don't have to do that unless you want to."

"That's the kind of way I like to hear you talk, Junior. You got to respect Momma."

"Yes. Absolutely."
"Now I'm gonna turn around and set my ass on your pale face." "Why?" he asked in panic.
"Just cause I want to. And to show you that what I want is what I

get."

She moved smoothly for such a big person, and put herself facing his feet. That vast tail-end filled his field of vision. It became his entire world. As she slowly lowered it, darkness descended. His face was buried in the deep valley between her jutting butt-halves. She settled atop him, nearly smothering the poor guy. He could draw only thin breaths. She was sweaty from her multiple orgasms. There was also a strong loamy smell. Jeffrey began to weep again. This was a complete nightmare. In a matter of hours, he had become enslaved by this zaftig female. Her sheer size and aggressive attitude overwhelmed him. He was naked. His unlucky bottom still throbbed with pain. She had mocked his undersized genitals and found out that he had never had sex. And she intended to keep him from having a normal sex life, replacing it with perverted acts, until those became the norm for him. He dreaded the possibility that his sexual persona might become permanently warped, beyond repair. Unbidden, a vision of the modestly proportioned white girl who Olita had replaced came into his mind. He had secretly longed for her, even considered entering a relationship that might lead to so much more. Now, all

that was gone, replaced by this hellish experience that he was undergoing.

"Hey," the bulky bully decided. "As long as you're under there, you can give my butt some mouth love." She shifted her hips around. "You feel my asshole against your lips? Pucker up and give it some sugar. Heh, heh, heh. Run that tongue around it in tight circles. That's called rimming. And lick it. Lick it good." He did all that, even though it thoroughly disgusted him. He couldn't tell how long he was doing it. Then she gave a wiggle of her pelvis and said, "As long as you got the target right there, get your tongue to working inside. Your dick ain't going to get into no girl, but you're tongue already been in its first pussy. Now you can shove it into my butthole."

Once he had achieved penetration, she ground herself down on him. Jeffrey couldn't breathe. In the darkness, patterns of light appeared, like when he was a kid and pressed his fingers against his eyelids. He was close to passing out when she at last relented, albeit only enough to allow him a few gasps of oxygen, all of it smelling like her butt crack. That pattern of smothering and a brief respite was repeated a few more times, before she finally dismounted, leaving his face hot and moist. He lay there, sobbing, wishing there were some way he could turn back the clock and prevent this from ever occurring. That unrealistic hope for a solution was typical of him. He wasn't capable of formulating a plan, especially not while he was naked and Olita was abusing him, physically and verbally. Speaking of that latter form of intimidation, she unleashed a fresh stream of invective, for no reason he could discern.

Her full lips were turned into a severe frown. Her eyes flashed dark fire. In a rage, she yelled, "Who do you think you are? Huh, rich boy? You're nobody. All you are now is something for me to play with, like a cat plays with a trapped mouse. And you are trapped, no doubt about that. When we leave this room, you're going to fetch those pants you lost, go into the pockets, and give me your wallet and keys. I'm taking it all. You won't even have loose change to your name. This may still be your house but you gonna live here like my personal toy." Instead of her anger diminishing as she ranted, it increased. "I own you and I'm gonna keep owning you. When I'm done, the old Jeffrey will be gone. I'll make you over the way I want. You gonna be addicted to my black body. You gonna live to be allowed to suck my twat. Do you hear me, Junior? If I want, you won't never put on no clothes. Or maybe I dress you up like a girl and make you my lezzie licker. I can scramble your brains and then rearrange them however I damn well please. And you can't do shit about it."

She paused to take a few deep breaths, which made her breasts rise and fall dramatically. An unasked-for picture invaded his mind. It was of Olita, still naked, stretched out on top of him, her weight now bearing down on his chest and abdomen. She pointed between his legs.

"Holy goddamn shit," she exclaimed. "Lookity there. That little white finger you got instead of a proper dick, it done got hard. You must be one of them freaks that gets off on being treated mean." She sang the song title, "'I love it when you call me names," then went on, "Don't you worry none. I know how to cure that stiffy. I'll give you so much bad vibes that you'll lose your taste for being dissed and getting treated like some street ho does

by her pimp." She brandished her fist at him. "Do I got to black both your eyes to make you behave? Am I gonna have to slap your face every time I want to get your attention?"

He curled into a ball. "No. Please. Don't." He couldn't manage more than one word at a time. She seized his wrists and pulled his protecting hands out of her way. Olita grabbed his hair and shook his head until his brains rattled. His legs unbent. "I'm gonna rag-doll you. I'll shake you till you beg me to stop. Is that what you want? Is it?"

He broke down. Tears streamed over his flushed cheeks. His

nose ran. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, she slapped him forcefully on the tummy. She kept doing that until he had been given a nasty belly-burn, with the skin bright pink.

"Maybe now you'll act right," she declared.

He didn't know what he had done wrong. His puny pecker was

still standing up. He tried to tell himself that it was because he hadn't had any sexual relief in a while and because Olita radiated a sort of raw sexuality. Surely, he wasn't responding to how she mistreated him, the way she had said he was.

"Get out of here," she barked. "Bring me them pants. Don't try to keep nothin' from out of the pockets. I'm taking it all. You now officially poor. This is my house. You got no car, no phone, no money, and no computer. I'm your world, Junior, even though you mean less than nothing to me. You're just here for me to smack when I get in a bad mood, and to face-sit when I need my snatch taken care of."

"Yes, Olita," he assured her. "That's the way it's going to be."

"I got some handcuffs in one of my bags. I'm gonna hook you to the foot of my bed at night, so you can sleep on the floor, like a dog. Maybe I give you a sheet. Maybe not. You got to earn stuff. Now, show me you understand. Get busy and kiss my feet. Do it, puppy."

He cowered on the floor. Her dark feet were in front of him. He couldn't avoid inhaling their scent, which mingled sweat and whatever had accumulated between her toes. Jeffrey, at his lowest point yet, his old life stripped away, his new existence of servitude revealed to him in stages, kissed her painted toenails. They were a gaudy shade of magenta. Without being told to, he lapped at her toes. She raised the front of one foot and he sucked her big toe. Then he stretched his lips around all five, overfilling his mouth and distorting his face. She saw how it made him look and laughed uproariously. He sucked all those toes at once, his tongue slipping between them. After a while, she switched him to the other foot. He gagged and gurgled as he tended to it, almost worshipfully. His penis was still stiff.

When Olita allowed him to rise, she saw his tiny erection again and exclaimed, "Your white worm is still pointing at me. That's damn rude." She slapped his mini-dick left and right, but it refused to soften. Then she brought her knee up between his legs in a devastating blow. He choked on pain and toppled over onto his back. His erection wilted. "That's what happens when you get rude with me. Every time that pecker sticks out, your balls'll get

mashed again. That happens too much and they might stop working."

"But I can't help it. I don't why my body was reacting that way. I don't even find you attractive."

"You don't?" She bared her teeth. "That's big, coming from a bare-ass chump with a nowhere dick. A bad boy who gets stepped on by his Momma." She demonstrated by putting the bottom of her unclean foot on his upturned face and rubbing it all over. "You gonna pay for them words, boy. I quizzed that little blond girl who used to work here about this place. She said there's a storage box in the basement, with a sliding bolt on the door. It's only big enough to hold like a dog. You're gonna back your sorry ass in there and I'm gonna lock you up. We'll see how much of a smart mouth you got in the morning. Maybe I'll feed you about a gallon of water, until your belly bulges, so you won't be able to keep from pissing in your kennel, like a neglected pup. Yeah, I can do that. You try to sleep with the stink of your own piss and can't get no proper rest, then we'll find out what you got to say about my looks. Us is going to be together for a long time, boy. It's gonna be like we is married, except more like you're my property, so I can do whatever shit I please to you. How you like that, Mister Money? What you think about your new house cleaner now?"

Olita chortled evilly. She gave him a kick in his already aching balls, just because. As he lay there on his side, she stiffened her toes and kicked him between his ass cheeks. Bullseye. Then she took him by the hair and sat him up.

"Let's go, oh my lord and master," she said ironically. "I'm still waiting for that wallet and them keys. After all, we can't have you trying to run off from your Momma, Junior... not never."

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