The Better Living Foundation Pt. 01

Note: This is my first story with no connection to the real world. My Kudos to Penitence for giving me the starting premise.

I met Olivia in college. She was dating the star runningback and I was the nerd in the core curriculum science class that she forgot about the instant the class was over. I remembered her! She had gorgeous auburn hair that fell across her back like waves of the waterfall, a smile that could stop a charging elephant, and a figure to die for with large teardrop breasts that I desperately wanted to cup in my hands. She had her sights on Akuna Thule, an African immigrant given a football scholarship, and no doubt his talented hands could find their way all over her body. It probably helped that they were both social work majors and I was studying accounting, but that difference was what brought her back into my life five years later.

She came to me to have her taxes done. I recognized her immediately. "Liv? It is good to see you again. Thank you for bringing your taxes to me. I did not think you would remember me."

She said, "I am sorry. Have we met?"

I thought she might be throwing some business to an old classmate. "Yes, I'm Dave. We were classmates together back in college. I thought you might have seen my advertisement in the paper."

"I did," she said, "I saw you had a fifty dollar off special for new customers. I am sorry, but I don't remember you at all."

My hopes that the seductive beauty might have been harboring a crush on me dashed, I said, "Oh, Okay. We took Professor Ferguson's Introductory Biology together. Remember how she said that females always go after the males with the most impressive display and then pointed to the most muscular guy in the classroom and we all laughed?" Once we got to reminiscing about our mutual alma mater, we hit it off and I talked her into the date that I never got in college. The relationship built and grew and eventually I asked her to marry me.

We had a happy marriage, but it never seemed that exciting to her. I loved Liv, but got the impression that she wanted something more. I am the staid stable man that you marry to pay the bills, not for passionate sex. While Olivia was a poor compassionate social worker that relies on a stable man, because she has seen too many women marry for passion and then tossed aside.

If our relationship lacked excitement, I suspected deep inside that it had to do with my penis. Let's face it. A four inch penis does not excite women. I tried to compensate manually, orally, seductively anything that will make her orgasm better or more often, but nothing did the trick. She lost interest and I gave up trying.

We both took to internet porn and masturbation to satisfy those urges. I was too embarrassed to admit that I was satisfying myself on the internet when I had the most beautiful woman in the world in the next room, so I would follow her viewing history often looking at the same sites just minutes after she did and I discovered something; She liked big cocks. More specifically, she liked Black cock. As I looked at picture after picture of big Black cock sliding into pretty White women, I spent as much time admiring the Black men as she did. After all that was what she was looking at and following her history links kept my viewing patterns along the same line. I would not have to admit the embarrassing fact that I knew I was not the type that she really wanted. There were other sites that she enjoyed for a bit of variety; vanilla, BDSM sites, feminization, a bit of everything, but she always came back to interracial porn and so did I.

I even began to discover that I preferred when the next site on the list was interracial, even gay interracial with buff Black men worshipped by little White boys. It somehow seemed heterosexual in an odd sort of way for an effeminate White man to be kneeling in service to one of those huge cocks. She never looked at White gay sites. It was always the Black ones and I learned to like them also.

Then a flier at her office changed our life. Someone had posted a flier about how Dr. Akuna Thule was doing a seminar on "Success in a Class Structured Culture: How We can Rise above Sex and Race to A Better Life." Of course, Olivia was excited. This was her ex-boyfriend and a topic that interested her. She wanted to discover what he was working on that could help her clients, poor women and minorities do better.

I wanted to stay as far away from this seminar as possible. I had a suspicion that she still lusted after the former athlete and the last thing I wanted to know was that he was successful or worse that he continued to work out and Liv might still lust after a muscular athletic body. I resisted, but she said she was going and the last thing I wanted to do was leave her alone with her ex-boyfriend, so I went along as well.

I was surprised by how many people were in attendance and how many were typical suburban White couples. I thought this was being advertised at social service agencies, but the audience seemed relatively affluent and Caucasian. I even saw a couple who owned a competing accounting firm. I shrugged. I didn't suppose many single mothers applying for SNAP benefits would be interested in hearing an academic lecture on class in America. I looked to the back of the room to find a seat, but Olivia pulled me down front and center.

Out came Akuna and he was just as handsome as I remember him with rugged good looks, chiseled jaw covered with a thin neatly trimmed goatee and hard muscles that looked like he had just come from the gym. Any hope that he might have let himself go as he did his post-graduate work was lost. Olivia gave a little gasp as she saw him walk into the auditorium and I looked at her to see a bit of flush in her pale cheeks. She leaned forward, eager to see her ex.

A twinge of jealousy went through my heart as I doubt she ever responded to me in quite the same way. Unfortunately, it was too late to get her out of there. I had to settle in for the ride. I took her hand to remind her that she was seated next to her husband or perhaps to be comforted by the fact that she was still my wife. I am not certain which.

Akuna stood up and started, "Thank you for coming. I am Dr. Akuna Thule and I would like to share with you today, the truth that was the basis of my doctoral thesis and has become my life work." He started with a historical timeline of race and class in America, talking about how exploitation of lower classes, especially slaves was normalized throughout the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries. Then he moved on to some more provocative comments about sexual exploitation, how homosexual feelings and practices flourished between slave owners and slaves, how torture and punishment was a sexual translation of desire as the owners denied themselves their real feelings, and denied the humanity of the owned. The pictures were quite graphic, and some listening were disgusted enough to leave. When he started to talk about how "the clear physical superiority of the Black man made the White males insecure, sublimating their needs" and started to show examples of plantation owners that made young black males have sex with them and their wives. More protested and walked out, but the lecturer ignored them. More of the audience left when he talked about how "deep inside every White man is a female like their White women. It could be said that White is inherently female".

I wanted to get up and walk out with most of the other offended audience members, but I was down front and Olivia did not seem interested in leaving. Only a handful remained; some older couples and a group of young female students. However Liv was mesmerized by her ex's talk, clearly enjoying everything he had to say about how class had come to reflect sexual mores and norms. I tugged at her hand to leave, but she pulled away and whispered, "Shhh...I think Akuna is on to something here."

When Akuna finished there was no applause but rather a stunned silence and even some giggling from the younger students, and then he said "My organization, 'The Better Living Foundation', would like to show any White volunteer a social experiment we are doing. If you want to further our sociological research, we would welcome any willing volunteers to come down and sign these release papers."

Nobody moved, except the last couples leaving, but Liv turns and says "Woah... that was really something, Dave. how about if we signed up?"

Akuna took a seat at the presentation table flipping through the papers half-heartedly and looking around the room without much concern. I suspect that he may have gotten this type of reaction before. I whispered back to my wife, "Liv, I know he's your ex, but he's a nut! Let's just get out of here."

Olivia says with a knowing smile and a bit of wheedling teasing in her voice, "Oh, come on! I know you are itching to learn what this experiment is all about. What have we got to lose? We can always back out later."

I look reluctantly to the door of the auditorium like there may already be bars on the door preventing my escape, but I shrug and say, "All right. What have we got to lose?"

We approach the professor as he gathers his laptop and presentation materials. He raises his eyes behind some reading glasses and smiles "Olivia? I thought that was you. Still as sexy as ever."

Olivia blushes and grips my hand. At least, she has not forgotten that we are a couple. "Thank you. We loved the seminar! I have been working at the Department of Social Services and your thesis sheds so much light into some attitudes on racial relations..." She is gushing a bit as she talks and eating him with her eyes and I have to admit that he looks "good"! He is likeable, even if his ideology is crazy. the man looks and sounds as reasonable as can be.

He chuckles heartily and says "Well, you are not alone in thinking so, and I must thank you for having stuck with it to the end. So many White couples are so limited in their perception. I understand my propositions are not too palatable for the White public."

Liv squeezes my hand, as if encouraging, pulling me forward to her big ex-boyfriend, but I am a intimidated in more than one way. She says "Oh... it's just the background racism... it's so sad that people hang on to vestiges of the past. I like to think that I am more enlightened. This is my husband David. You may remember him. He went to college with us."

He pats her on the shoulder in a way that seems a touch familiar and there is that twinge of jealousy again. He says, "David, is it? I can't say I remember you, but I am sure we probably ran into each other now and then back in college. So do you have any questions about my research and the foundation?"

Liv looks at me and nods. Damn! She wants me to be the one asking to apply for the experiment! I don't even want to be here! I try to be nonchalant, "Yeah, you can call me, Dave. Liv was wondering about this experiment. I mean, what exactly would it entail and do we get paid for it? We have never participated in a study like this." I can't quite bring myself to look up at the professor, so I find myself looking at his chest. I wonder how much he can press and I am certain that it is more than Liv's and my weight together.

Doctor Akuna sits on the edge of the table and says "It's not just research. Well, it is, but that's not the main purpose of the experiment. It's a practical readjustment in people's lifestyles as a means to correct for the abuses of the past. Put another way, it is individuals expressing reparations for early American slavery on a daily basis. It requires you to live according to a strictly structured protocol for one month that is designed to help you reflect upon and enlighten your attitudes about White privilege. There is no pay. In fact many of our participants elect to extend the lifestyle beyond one month and give generously ensure the Foundation keeps functioning. I think it is safe to say without the donations of our many supporters, the Better Living Foundation would not be as successful as it is." He studies us both and says "It's not for the faint hearted, but I am sure that you two are exactly the type of couple that will benefit from the educational process that we provide. I know Olivia would love it and I have a feeling, Dave, that you will enjoy it just as much as she will. You don't seem to be the type of man who wants to remain in our racist past."

I squirm uncomfortably at that direct challenge. Of course, I am not racist, but a month learning about racism in some sort of indoctrination exercise does not sound like fun either. I glance at my wife and realize that I am going to have a hard time explaining why I turned Dr. Thule down if I did not agree. Liv squeezes my hand, "Well... I see where it would be hard... but Dave I want to try it. I am sure it will be very enlightening."

I am less enthusiastic, "Gee, I don't know, Liv. This sounds a bit strange. I mean...if politicians can't work out reparations. What exactly are we supposed to do that is going to make any dif...."

Olivia remains adamant and wheedling at the same time, "Pleease! If you only knew how many Black families that I have seen struggling due to White people taking advantage of them, you would know that we have to do something to change the world."

Oddly, I look to the professor support, hoping that he might give me an escape clause from my wife's naive sense of justice and perhaps romantic nostalgia for her old fling. Of course, Dr. Thule has no reason to let me swim away now that the bait has been dangled and the hook is in my mouth. I roll my eyes and hope that this is not going to be the worst experience of my life and acquiesce, "Okay, but this had better not be something I regret. Where do we sign?"

"Right here," Dr. Thule says, providing us with some paperwork. I did not even bother reading it. I could see that Liv was not going to let me back out because of some minor addendum about an arbitration clause or anything like that anyway. "I know you two will be perfect participants. In fact, I am going to be your personal instructor. It will give Liv and I an opportunity to catch up from our time together in college and it will be a joy to see how Dave blossoms under the type of instruction that we provide."

Liv is grinning up at her ex as she subtly admonishes me, "This sounds really exciting! I am surprised that Dave is not more interested. He is usually so progressive in his thinking."

Akuna reassures, "I think he will be for more enthusiastic as we go on." He takes our waiver forms and tucks them into his briefcase. "Good. We can go to the Foundation headquarters for the initial assessment. Now that you are all signed up, I will drive you there."

I say, "I am sure if you give us the address, we can find it on GPS. We have our Ford Fiesta parked out front."

But Olivia says, "I would love to ride with you, Akuna." She leans in and presses her body against him. It was like seeing her after science class all over again and I was the guy with a crush from the distance.

Dr. Thule smiles at me, "It's no bother,...really. And the feeling of defenselessness helps. Going without a means of transportation will place you in the right psychological frame of mind."

Liv leans into him and they lead me out to the parking lot, chatting amiably about old times. Even before we leave the auditorium, he rests his hand on her waist. Heck, is he feeling her up? It's subtle enough that Liv does not complain.

He has a big expensive Lexus... the sport one. Academia and the lecture circuit must be more lucrative than I thought. He opens the passenger seat for Olivia and I am forced to sit in the rear. He says, "Our offices are 20 minutes out of town, but just you see, we will be there in a moment." Liv continues chattering away about old times and old friends, so I try to relax even when sometimes his hand roams to her thigh for a squeeze.

I look down on the floor of the car and see a magazine. Curious and trying not to seem too much like a third wheel, I pick it up and look. It is an adult magazine called "Black and White" and the pictures are NOT shot in monochrome! They depict the full range of colors from the brightest red Gingers to the deepest brown Africans. This might be the inspiration for Dr. Thule's research, but it is also what has become my favorite type of pornography. White women being spread wide by one, two, or more big Black men with big Black cocks. I should drop the magazine on the floor and ignore it, perhaps kick it under the seat, so I can pretend that it is not even in the range of my sight, but Olivia is clearly living her little fantasy and I am not being paid attention to at all, so I crack the cover and find myself getting hard to images that make the historical photographs seem tame. White people on their knees sucking cock, placed in stocks to be spanked, placed on all fours to be spit-roasted, cum dripping from pussy, ass, and chin; always the big powerful Black men in charge.

The last part of the magazine is homosexual. It depicts a man that can be no older than college wearing wedding lingerie, his cock shaven and exposed, smiling as he is to "marry" a black man. Another White man described as his father giving him away and then sucking the Black cock of the best man. The priest takes vows for how he is a female to Black cocks to be put out and fucked in the ass by his husband and all of his extended family, all the brothers. Even the priest is allowed to cum in the bride's mouth after tapping his sissy ass. The father of the bride entertains all the guests going around to anybody who wants to use him. I can't help fantasizing a bit about being dressed up in wedding lingerie and being passed around like the slutty bride, but I don't want to be caught reading the dirty magazine, so I close the magazine.

The opaque cover of the magazine is addressed to Dr. Akuna Thule. He would be a regular subscriber! But my stomach churns in fear as I see the from address is The Better Living Foundation. This magazine is published by the very place that we are going to! I drop the magazine fluttering to the floor.

Olivia turns back and asks, "What are you reading, Dave?"

I pick up the papers from the seminar and make a show of restacking it over my swollen cock and says, "Oh, nothing! I was just looking over some of the paperwork Akuna gave us." I need to get Olivia alone and warn her that this is not something we want to get involved in. I wonder if the photographs that I had just seen were from other "volunteers." I cannot deny that the pictures excited me, but in more than one way and now I was really scared. I address the professor saying, "That is some interesting reading material you have back here."

Dr. Thule looks up in the mirror and something in his eye tells me that he knows I was looking at the porn and not the historical information. He smiles "Just wait until you meet the instructors. The experience is 'hard', yes, but the guys are really passionate about helping White people recognize your place." I don't know what he thinks is "hard"; the process of training, the instructors' cocks or my own. Well, my own is very hard, but I did not want to think about that.

When we arrive, he gets out and opens the door for Liv. He shamelessly reaches to put a hand on her butt, but then he smiles and nods for me to join him at his side, where he also grabs my behind, guiding us both as... well, not children, but oddly a bit like that. I feel reduced as if I am no longer a full equal in this relationship, only his property to be used. Liv gulps and even looks up at him in the adoring way. We are guided into the foundation headquarters. It is a modern building that from the outside might be an insurance office or bank. A mature Black secretary dressed professionally smiles at us and Akuna asks, "Rhonda, I have two volunteers from my seminar. Is there an examination room available?"