Heather likes it black

"U like it black?" came the message which sent a chill up my spine. Of course not, you filthy savage, I wanted to tell him, you come to this country and think you can just intimidate white girls who take your fancy? But I knew I'd be done for if I wrote that.

I cycled through some replies. "I dunno" had an ambivalence I thought he'd miss; deleted. "Not yet"-winky face? no winky face?-before I figured that was just inviting a gang bang by African thugs. Deleted. "Umm, not really." Dangerous, and not necessarily accurate; I wondered what new experiences these rough refugees had in store for us that had always been strictly taboo for pale Anglo-Saxon girls.

In the minutes that I agonized, I noticed from his trail of "likes" that Samir was browsing my online pics, particularly any that showed some skin. An innocent pic from a sleepover with friends got a "Hell Yeahh" comment; a photo of me in a bikini with my parents got a "nice rack!" It was as if my life were a source of cheap titillation to him, and I wanted him to at least stop posting about it.

"I know you want me" I messaged him, figuring that would stop the flow of comments. "U really want me to go black!" It gave me a little tingle to write it.

"U LIKE IT BLACK" Samir repeated, and I scowled, and settled on replying, "I do what I'm told"

"Say you like nigger cock," he messaged back. "DO IT" I could sense the urgency in the message, and before I knew it, my delicate fingers had typed the phrase and hit enter. I couldn't believe it as the outrageous statement stared back at me from the computer screen.