Broken In by Black Cock

Deep in the back of her mind, in the place that ashamed her, she wished Maurice would have come then in her mouth too, so that they would come together. She hated herself for the thought.

As her orgasm subsided, Maurice pulled out of her mouth again, this time thin strands of spittle following him, connecting Gina's lips to his cock like chains.

"You really are a filthy little whore."

His words stung and Gina opened her lips to protest. "N-no, I..."

"How can you deny it? You let me use your throat like my toy. It turned you on so much that you fingered yourself to orgasm. I watched you come as you sucked my big, black cock. All while your boyfriend waits at home."

Gina looked down in despair. What he was saying was true, she had no way to deny it. She had gotten off on this black man forcing her, pushing her to her knees and using her like his tool, his slut. Was he right, did that make her a whore? Her pussy twitched again.

"Don't worry though, my little slut. You're not just any whore. You're my whore."

Ridiculously, these words seemed to raise something within Gina, as if throwing a narrow lifeline within her tormented psyche. She looked up at him, hating him and wanting more at the same time.

Maurice lowered his voice. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Gina hesitated, but her desire was overtaking the logical part of her mind. She nodded slowly.

"First, you must say it. Say you are my filthy little whore. Then I will put this cock inside you and make you feel the things your boyfriend never could."

Gina closed her eyes. She couldn't believe the audacity of the man standing in front of her. No man had ever treated her like this, least of all Ben, who she kept on a tight leash. She had never been dominated and humiliated the way this man was doing, and most upsetting of all was the way he demanded that she contribute to her own degradation. But it excited her, excited and confused her, because she knew what Maurice was saying was at least partly true. And after sucking his giant cock, after cumming against her fingers for him, part of her desperately did want to feel him inside her.

"Please... please fuck me."

"First, tell me what you are."

"Oh god, please don't make me."

"Tell me what you are, or I will kick you out of this room. It make no difference to me; I have other whores."

There it was, her opportunity. She didn't even need to run, or to fight him, he was offering her a way out. Her rational mind yelled to take it, but it was as if she was trapped behind a glass window, no longer in control of her body. Instead...

"Oh god, I'm... I'm a whore." Her voice was dry and cracked, barely even a whisper. She couldn't believe the words were coming out of her mouth.

"Not good enough". Maurice was merciless. He wanted Gina's full acknowledgement of her own disgrace.

"I'm your whore. Your filthy little whore. Please fuck me." Gina was begging now, pleading from her knees.

Maurice reached down under her armpits and lifted her up standing with remarkable strength. He kissed her roughly and deeply on the mouth, turning her on even more. "I love to hear you say that."

He twisted her around her and grabbed her hip with one black hand from behind, as he had when they were dancing. This time though, she felt his other firm palm between her shoulder blades, pushing her upper body forwards and downwards until she leant over the low sink. She was horizontal now, her ass in the air pointing up at him and to her humiliation she arched her back involuntarily, offering herself to him.

He laughed low at her body's unrequested movement, and lifted the back of her skirt up over her ass cheeks, bunching it around her waist. Her beautiful round ass, product of all those gym hours, was staring up at him, naked and exposed but for her tiny blue G-string. He tucked two of his long fingers under the damp gusset of her blue panties and pulled them to the side.

He whistled. "Look at what we have here. I knew you were wet, whore, but I had no idea."

Gina squirmed with embarrassment at his words, as she could feel her wetness against the inside of her thighs and knew again that part of the humiliation came from their undeniable truth. She wished he would touch her, rub her, fuck her, something. But he seemed intent on feasting his eyes on her first, bent over and open for him like the whore he kept calling her. That she had called herself.

"Your juices are running down your legs, little girl. It's like a river back here." She cringed at this; 'little girl' sounded worse to her ears even than 'whore' - it made her feel helpless and perverse. She concentrated and could indeed feel small droplets trickling down the inside of her bare thighs. Maurice reached down and touched her naked flesh, letting a single bead of wetness roll over his finger, then picked it up and placed it into her mouth. She sucked on it wantonly, tasting her own pussy.

"Reach back and open your pussy lips for me whore." Gina squirmed again but did as he bid her, reaching a hand between her legs and pulling her labia apart with her index and middle fingers.

"Now, say it again."

She knew what he meant. This time, it came easier. "Please master. I'm your whore. Please fuck me. Please."

Maurice smiled as he looked down at this beautiful young girl; she had seemed so proud and sure of herself at the start of the night, dancing with him, attempting to tease him. Now here she was, her face covered in spittle, her long, golden brown legs straight and her tight round ass sticking up at him as she bent over the sink, spreading her wet pussy with her fingers, calling herself his whore and begging him to fuck her. He loved the power he had over her, but even he was slightly surprised at how easily she had submitted to him.

He guided his cock between Gina's spread labia and she gasped as she felt him gently push at her entrance. He was going slowly and she was soaking wet, but still it felt like his cock would split her open. She felt an overwhelming sensation, a mixture of pleasure and pain that overtook every thought, every other feeling, as he pushed his way inside, millimetre by millimetre, her pussy stretching and slipping against the girth of her intruder. She tried her hardest to think, to relax her muscles, to give her insides every chance to accommodate a cock so much larger than any she had taken before. She moaned unashamedly for the first time as Maurice slipped further inside her, reaching deeper than she had ever felt, her every thought overcome by the feeling of delicious fullness mixed with the pain of her stretched pussy.

His cock was only about halfway in when both of them felt it touch the end of her canal, the entrance to her cervix. Gina gave a little jump that sent a burst of the pleasure-pain mix rolling through her. Maurice pulled slowly back, smiling at the beautiful contrast of Gina's translucent white juices covering half the length of his black cock. Then, when only the head was left inside her, he began pushing slowly back in.

Gina moved the hand that held her pussy open and placed both hands on the sink in front of her. She was in rapture. The slow fucking was from necessity but it made it seem that she could feel every bump, every vein and skin imperfection of his mammoth cock as it slid along the stretched walls of her insides. As Maurice sped up his thrusts, the pain began to subside and the waves of pleasure began to build inside Gina. That wonderful full feeling grew warmly, and the end of each thrust sent a wave of joy like a tiny starburst behind her eyes. She realised suddenly that she was moaning with every thrust, louder than she ever did. How long had she been doing that? She was never loud in bed, never, but it didn't matter, all that mattered was that full feeling, that beautiful warmth spreading to her fingers and toes, all that mattered was that he didn't stop... don't stop... "Don't stop, please..."

Maurice looked down at her, almost incredulous at the ease of the control he had over her. Was this beautiful asian woman really begging him not to stop as he fucked her in a dirty utility room of a nightclub? He watched the way her pussy clung to his cock on each back-thrust, the way her body was shaking now, her gasps and moans becoming shorter, quicker.

Gina felt the orgasm building. The rational part of her mind behind the glass screamed in horror and humiliation; she couldn't come twice for this rapist, she couldn't.

But that part of her was tiny now, relegated, stuffed deep down within her, all that mattered in this moment was every nerve ending in her body firing, every inch of her skin on fire, that wonderful warmth flooding her mind with the pleasure that only this black cock could bring her.

The orgasm hit hard. Gina began shaking violently and cried out. Her long legs shook so much that Maurice had to be careful his cock did not slip from her as he pounded, faster now, harder and harder.

Gina couldn't breathe, she was screaming as her body shook and writhed. She was cumming, cumming for her rapist and somehow that thought made the whole act more erotic as her pussy squeezed and clenched and stretched against his giant dick.

As her orgasm subsided, Gina's conscience seemed to move cautiously to the forefront of her mind again, even as Maurice continued his pounding. What had she done? She had betrayed her boyfriend with this man, this black guy who had forced her into sex with him, and instead of resisting, she had given in to in, gone along with it, even been turned on by it. She had called herself his whore, and had come harder than she ever had for her boyfriend. Ben, her loving boyfriend. Tears began to well up in the corners of her eyes for the first time and her moans were punctuated now with small, pathetic sobs.

From behind her, Maurice noticed the change. He knew the conflict that must be going on inside his victim after she came for him, and he relished her guilt and confusion.

"You are a good little whore, coming on my cock." He whispered in her ear. "You put on quite a show. Now it is time to give you a present to take home to your boyfriend."

Gina's mouth fell open. What did he mean? Why was he bringing her boyfriend into this - hadn't he taken enough from her? She felt his thrusts speed up in her still-sensitive pussy. Felt him start to breathe harder on the back of her neck. "Oh god, no, please, no, don't..."

But it was too late, Maurice's body stiffened and with one final hard slam of his cock he began to shoot his cum inside Gina's soaking, stretched out pussy.

Gina was crying in earnest now, as her rapist dumped his filthy black seed inside her. It seemed to take forever, each twitch of his cock sending a new guilty spurt of pleasure through her body. When he was finished, Maurice pulled out, wiped his cock on her sodden panties, and pulled them back over the entrance to her pussy, trapping his cum inside her.

He bent down next to the sink and whispered again in Gina's ear. "You are a good little whore. You will remember that. You're mine now, your body won't forget. And your first job as my whore is to take this," he patted her panty-clad pussy, "back to your boyfriend. Let me know how he likes it." And with a laugh, Maurice zipped up his jeans, unlocked the door and was gone.

Gina stayed still for several minutes, bent over the sink, skirt around her waist, too scared and numb to move. Her brain seemed unable to process what had just happened, what she had done, what he had done to her. Eventually, slowly, she stood up, smoothed out her skirt and pushed open the utility room door.

Gina had no idea how she got home. She was in a daze, walking on autopilot, unaware of where she was going and what she was doing. She assumed that she had got a taxi but she couldn't remember it. When she got to her front door and put her keys in the lock, Ben met her at the door. She collapsed into his arms. He was shocked, but held her tight and began caressing her hair. He assumed she had had too much to drink. He held her for a while, asking her if she was okay.

Gina suddenly felt an outpouring of love for her boyfriend. What had they even fought about? Here he was, willing to take care of her, no matter what. She raised her head and kissed him passionately. He reacted with surprise, but then relaxed and began to kiss her back. He thought perhaps Gina leaving him at home while we went out drinking with her friends wouldn't mean the night was a complete bust, after all. She felt his hands beginning to gently explore her body; it was nice. Then, as his hand crept down the front of her stomach, she felt it. A pool of wet stickiness inside her panties. As suddenly as she had kissed Ben, she pushed him away and ran to the bathroom. She heard him call after her but she slammed the bathroom door and locked it behind her, ignoring him.

She slipped off her high heels and slowly pulled down her panties. She saw it immediately laying there, white and glistening in her panties, the pool of the stranger's filthy cum that had dripped out of her own pussy. She held the panties up closer to her; there was so much cum inside them, more she was sure than Ben ever came. Shit. She needed to get rid of her panties. She needed to flush them. She moved towards the toilet, but... But. She looked again, closer at the pool of cum on the crotch of her panties and something shifted inside her, a feeling similar to the one she had felt earlier. She froze. Her own voice was screaming inside her head, to throw the filthy panties into the toilet and flush them away forever, but she looked down at the pearlescent white against the dark blue cotton and the only move she made was to bring them closer to her face.

She heard Maurice's voice too, and an echo of her own whisper, I'm a filthy whore... your whore. The voice in her head was still screaming, no, you can't, this is vile, disgusting, your boyfriend is outside, banging on the door, but it was behind the glass again. As if in a trance, transfixed by the sight, she brought the panties closer until they were an inch from her face. She could smell the dirty aroma now, and the thing in her belly shifted again. Her tongue moved slowly out until she tasted the white liquid. Her rapist's seed. Her master's seed? Her tongue scooped up a small amount and swallowed as that voice in her head screeched, now wordlessly, unheard. Her tongue moved out again, and all she could taste and smell was sex and heat and her own delicious humiliation. She knelt there in her bathroom, licking and eating her rapist's filthy cum from her blue cotton panties. Her hand moved between her thighs...