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Eric Lacroix

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The Gash was the worst beat in town, and being the cop working it meant that you had three options: get promoted and get reassigned, leave the force, or wait to die. Cops had a shorter lifespan in The Gash than a white-girl’s virginity did in a rap concert. I had worked this beat once, before I took done a cop-killing drug-dealing Puerto Rican slut named La Zorra and made vice. There was no need for me to come back to this shitty-ass place, but I wanted to. The Gash was my connection to someone I cared about. Someone who needed my help.

Like Orpheus journeying down to the underworld to rescue that bitch of his, I needed to come back here to save my friend.

The Gash was easily the most dirty, violent, crime ridden part of Climax City, with a rape and a murder occurring at least once a day, sometimes to the same person, and not necessarily in that order. It was infested with drug-dealers, prostitutes, strip-clubs, and if you dug down into the shit deep enough, human trafficking.

But what I had come looking for was a little blonde girl with big blue baby eyes and pigtails. I found her working an alleyway behind a strip joint called ‘Pornocopia,’ wearing the skimpiest little school-girl outfit one could find in the ‘slut section’ of a Halloween store. I knew the bitch was freshly 18, but from the look of her petite body, cute face, and slender little waist she could have been much younger.

The slut’s street name was Candy, but as I sat in my undercover car flipping through her files I saw her real name was Buffy Marie Cumberland. The daughter of a federal judge and a former Swedish supermodel, it was hard to imagine what a rich, privileged little uptown girl was doing down here, but I had pieced her story together. Buffy had started missing classes a few months ago, not long after her eighteenth birthday. When she disappeared entirely her father took out an APB and naturally ever cop in Climax City was diverted from their work to find her, but when sex-tapes of little Buffy Marie Cumberland started popping up on the internet featuring the ‘innocent’ little bitch doing the most perverse and deplorable things with men, women, and even a few animals, it wasn’t long before her daddy decided that his daughter was dead. Thus Buffy Marie Cumberland died, and Candy the Slut was born.

I honestly didn’t give a shit about some rich white-guy’s little princess though. I was interested in the man who made her this way.

Leaving my car I strutted across the street with so much swagger it would have been hard not to notice me. Just because I was undercover didn’t mean I wasn’t looking for attention, and I knew from experience what kind of attention a body look mine could get. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a 5’6″ ebony goddess, the kind niggas would sell out their homies for and white-boys would leave their wives just to get a taste of. My hair was short, straightened, and hung over my left eye in a sexy little bob-cut. My puffy, fat lips practically screamed of my cocksucking skills that could leave a nigga dehydrated. My big, fat titties hung out of whatever tank-top or jacket I put them in, and my hard, chocolate nipples always seemed to poke through regardless of how thick my bra was.

My ass though, my ass left niggas crying. I had a bubble-butt so big and firm that it was hard finding pants that didn’t split whenever I so much as bent over to flash my breasts, and even the pants I had that didn’t rip left my cheeks popping out like a second cleavage. When I had sex my ass was like an earthquake, and more than once a month I found myself apologizing to some brother for breaking his bed-frame and waking up all his neighbors.

I wasn’t fat though, and any cracka who thought so just hadn’t seen a real goddess in the flesh before. I was up in the gym five times a day, doing squats and curls until my sweaty breasts showed trough my tight leotard. My stomach was tight and toned, my waist was as narrow and curved as any white bitch’s, and my ‘fat’ ass had enough muscle in it to crack a man’s skull like a wallnut. I was a big, beautiful, black powerhouse of authority, as this little bitch named Candy was about to find out.

“Hey girl,” Candy was saying to a passing stripper on her way to work. “You need to score some Ero? I can get you whatever you need. Oral-Ero, snorted-Ero, injection-Ero, suppository-Ero. However you wanna take it.”

The stripper bit her lip reluctantly as she looked the little piece of jailbait over. “How old are you kid?”

“Old enough to know just how wet my pussy cat get when I’m on Ero. C’mon girl. This shit makes everything better. Sex is better. Masturbation is better. Food is better. I bet your dancing would be better on it too. Imagine what a show you’d put on with hundred milligrams of Ero pumping through you sexy ass.”

The stripper still seemed reluctant, but she was obviously tempted. “How do I know you’ve got the real shit?”

Candy giggled and rolled her eyes. She tugged down her tiny, pleated skirt and flashed the stripper with the sight of her hairless little pussy. Right above her vaginal mound was tattooed a little black fleur-de-lis.

“See,” Candy said. “You know who I work for. His shit is the best, because his shit is the original.”

The stripper was breathing heavily, her big tits almost popping out of her leather corset. “A-a-okay! How much for a couple hits?”

“$100 a hit. No discounts.”

“Whu-wh-one hundred dollars! That’s fucking loco! Blow ain’t more than $20 a hit!”

“Then go buy some blow and stop wasting my time.” Candy spun on her little heels and started to walk away, shaking her perky little ass.

“Wait! Okay, fine. Fuck!” The stripper reached into the front of her skirt, right into her crotch, and pulled out a crumpled fifty dollar bill. “All I got is fifty. Split a hit?”

” . . . fine.” Candy giggled. She reached into her very small blouse and took out a single white pill from her bra. She then stuck out her little pink tongue and put the pill on it. The stripper leaned down, almost at a ninety degree angle, to give the little blonde slut a big, deep, lesbian kiss. The pill dissolved between their writhing tongues and quickly saturated their brains with a chemical reaction unlike any other, creating a euphoria that only Aphrodite at her absolutely horniest could create.

The women broke their kiss, a thin strand of saliva breaking between them. Each woman was blushing and panting loudly, as if already in the throes of an intense orgasm. Candy whimpered childishly as a thin trickle of cum started to leak down her leg and tears swelled out the corner of her big blue eyes. The stripper was heaving so hotly that her breasts fell out of her tight corset, her nipples so hard and erect that they could have cut glass.

“Holy . . . fucking . . . shit . . .,” the stripper moaned, tugging on her nipples. “This is the dopest fucking Ero ever.”

“Ta-ta-told you,” Candy squeaked, ready to piss herself. “Daddy Lacroix’s shit is the best-”

“Did someone say Lacroix?” I interrupted, swaggering up to the two horny bitches. “As in Eric Lacroix? That is soooooo interesting,” I said in a mocking, nasally white-girl voice. “I’ve been looking for him everywhere. Any idea where he at?”

“Fu-fu-fuck you, cop!” the stripper said to me, backing away a little, although her legs were so wobbly she couldn’t get very far. “You should know pigs ain’t welcome here.”

“Who says I’m a cop?” I asked, but I had to admit, it was obvious I was a cop. I was in plain clothes: a super tight tank-top, a jacket that revealed all of my ebony cleavage, and a tight skirt that I hoped to God wouldn’t rip because it cost a lot. But even without a badge visible my whole swagger just screamed ‘COP.’ No, actually, my swagger screamed ‘TOP BITCH!’

“Ge-get the fuck out of here, pig!” The stripper screamed, still experiencing a hot, chemically induced orgasm. She reached into her little purse and pulled out a knife, but I was way faster than her.



My collapsible police baton flicked open from my wrist, and I swung it up between her legs so fast and hard her feet almost left the ground. The feeling of being cunt-punted by a metal baton must have been so painful her mind simply snapped, because although her eyes went big and she opened her mouth to scream, no sound came out. She slunk to her knees, holding her busted pussy with both hands, and I grabbed her by the sides of her head.


My knee stuck her right in the face, and she snapped back against the dirty pavement unconscious, but still writing orgasmically. Ero was a hell of a drug.

Candy squealed and made a run for the alley, but her little legs were so unsteady that she could barely move straight at all. I casually walked after her, swaying my juicy hips like the boss I knew I was. There was a chain-link fence at the end of the alley, and silly little Candy was actually trying to climb over it. For a clumsy little slut in high-heels and half out of her mind on drugs, she was actually doing pretty well. By the time I caught up to her she was shaking her peachy ass at my face’s level. Her skirt had ridden up her willowy waist, revealing the kinkiest little pair of thong-panties with a childish heart pattern on them. She really did look like some pedophile’s fantasy come to life.

I reached up and grabbed her hips, laughing dominantly as I did so. “Caught ya.”

“Le-le-let me go!” she cried. Really, she was crying.

“Okay.” But before I did I leaned in and planted a big, wet kiss right on the front of her panties, flicking at her little pink clit with my tongue as I did so. I knew how powerful Ero was, and I also knew how to eat pussy like a champ, so when I pulled back Candy was cumming like a waterfall. Her panties soaked through instantly as she pissed herself with cum, making a puddle of clear liquid between my legs. I chose that exact moment to let go and she fell to the asphalt like a bag of wet clothes.

She made a pathetic little grunt as her body hit the ground, and she whimpered as she struggled to her wobble knees. She looked up at me with big, blue, tear-filled eyes, but all she saw was my stun-gun pressing against her little tits.



When Candy finally woke up she found herself in a dark, dirty room with a single window that had been boarded up, a stained bed, a table, and an uncomfortable chair, which I had handcuffed her to. I had also stripped her completely naked. The only thing she had left was the girly hairclips keeping her pigtails up and some pink lip-gloss. I had tossed her clothes all around the room, but her bra and panties I left on the table right in front of her, along with all the drugs I had discovered after doing a very thorough cavity search. The little slut had been packing almost a dozen different kinds of Ero. Powdered-Ero for snorting like cocaine, crystallized-Ero for smoking like Meth, pill-Ero for ingesting, and even suppository-Ero for shoving up your ass.

“Tell me about Ero,” I said. I was standing behind her so she couldn’t see me, but I was close enough that she could feel the almost physical waves of hot, bitchy dominance I radiated with.

“You can’t do this,” she whimpered. “This . . . this isn’t legal!”

“Neither is dealing Ero,” I said.

“Where . . . (sob) . . . where am I?”

I paced the room, letting her hear the heavy falls of my high-heeled shoes, but I never let her see me. “This is called a ‘dirty room.’ It’s an off-the-books place cops in Climax City use to interrogate and hold suspects we don’t want showing up on the record.”

Candy’s legs were trembling. “Are . . . are you going to kill me?”

I let me fingers gently brush the back of her neck. “That’s really up to you, sweetie. Now tell me about Ero.”

She sobbed, a little uncontrollably at first, but she choked it back to talk. “It’s a drug, okay! It’s an aphrodisiac, the most powerful ever made. One hit gets you horny as hell. Two hits can make you fuck all night. Three hits turn you into a mindless sex-zombie fuck-freak, for like, forever! Four hits . . . four . . . any more than three can kill you.”

I rested my hands on her slender shoulders and massaged them. “Good girl,” I whispered almost sexually. “Now tell me about Lacroix.”

She sobbed again. “He’ll . . . he’ll kill me.”

I brought my hand around her neck and very slowly, very gently scraped my fingernail against the skin of her neck. I didn’t say anything but the gesture spoke for itself.

“Lacroix . . . Daddy . . . he was fucking my friend at school. Like, really FUCKING her. She kept coming to class totally out of her mind, and just stank of sex. She was high on Ero almost every day. She got me into it, and I left school to go work for him. I sell his drugs and act in his movies, and he . . . he made me a woman. He . . . he was so amazing. He’s . . . I think he might be a god.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Eric Lacroix had a reputation for being charismatic and charming, but god-DAMN he knew how to fuck with a bitch’s mind.

Candy was wiggly a lot, and not completely out of fear either. I could tell she was horny, and that just talking about Erin Lacroix was making her little pink pussy drip. I didn’t like that. A successful interrogation meant staying in control, in control of everything. That included the subjects emotions. If this slut was hornier for Lacroix than she was afraid of me then this wasn’t going to work.

I tossed a few photographs onto the table. They were all of a single subject: a beautiful young woman with tan skin, high cheekbones, and curly brown hair. Even her imaged burned with a certain vibe that might be called her ‘Latin Passion,’ but that simple fact of it was that this woman was one of the most genuinely beautiful people to ever walk the earth.

“Tell me about her,” I said, sounding harsher. “You’ve seen her?”

Candy nodded. “That’s Daddy’s favorite bitch. That’s why she wears his golden collar.” Candy pointed to a very expensive looking dog collar that the woman was wearing in some of the photos. “Her name is . . . Alexandra I think?”

“Alessandra,” I corrected her. “Alessandra Martinez.”

Candy tried to look back at me, but I was too much in the shadows for her to see. “Do you know her?”

I didn’t answer her question. Instead, I slowly walked around the edge of the table, letting the naked little tart see that she wasn’t the only one nude in the room. Well, I did have something on. I was still wearing my wicked high-heeled shoes, and around my big bubble butt I had a tight leather g-string and attached to that hung the biggest, thickest, blackest dildo that money could buy. It stuck out from my ebony body even further than my fat, firm tits did, like a big snake looking for something to eat. Candy couldn’t take her eyes off of my rubber weapon. She was gasping and crying a little.

“Here’s the deal, bitch,” I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “You’re going to call up that strip-joint you work at, the one that I know Lacroix visits every fucking night to sell Ero, and you’re going to tell them that you’re sick. But good news! You friend Tanya is going to cover for you.”


“Tanya Washington. That’s me. Officer Tanya Washington, but you’re not going to tell them that part of course. Wouldn’t be much of a sting operation if they knew I was a cop. You’re going to switch places with me tonight, and I am going to bust Lacroix in the act, and he is going in the cell-block so deep that no one will be able to hear him screaming as Big Bubba rapes his tight, white, ass!”

Candy was biting her lip and staring angrily at me. “And if I refuse?”

I laughed and smiled wickedly. “Oh, you see, Jerome (that’s what I named by giant black dildo) was REALLY hoping you’d say that. He was really hoping you’d be a stubborn little bitch, because Jerome knows that I ain’t got time for stubborn little white bitches, like you are being right FUCKING now! And if you don’t start being a cooperative little girl, I’m just going to have to let Jerome take over.” I pressed the bulbous head of the dildo forward, causing it to push into her chubby little cheek. “And Jerome just loves stubborn little white girls. He loves fucking the living SHIT out of them.”

Candy looked terrified of me, and of Jerome, but not so much as she was absolutely in love with Lacroix. “Go ahead,” she said. “I’ve had sex with Eric Lacroix. I’ve had sex with a god. I can do anything.”

And that was exactly what I was afraid of.

I sighed. “Fine.”

I grabbed a packet of powdered-Ero, tore it open, and then with my other hand I reached down to one of her little pink nipples and I twisted it like I was trying to rip it off. Candy inhaled sharply, getting ready to scream in pain, and she inhaled the hit of Ero I held up to her nose. Instead of screaming she coughed, sending a small puff of white powder into the air. She coughed and heaved but it was no use, I could tell the drug was already having an effect on her.

“That’s one hit,” I said.

Candy mewled like a horny little kitten as the drug sunk in. She started to wiggle in her seat hard, trying to grind her swollen clit against the surface, but that’s not what I had planned for her. I grabbed a small Ero-pill from the table, and shoved it right into her mouth. She made a cute little choking sound as her eyes went wide with shock, and she tried to push the pill back out with her tongue. I wasn’t going to let her get off that easy though. I pressed my hips forward, jamming the wide head of Jerome into her little pink mouth, pushing the pill down her throat along with the first six inches of wide, black rubber dick. The drug was already taking an even greater effect as I grabbed the back of her head and began to fuck her throat.

“That’s two hits.”

The look on her face disgusted me. She looked retarded, like her brains had just been fried and all she was left with was the knowledge of what to do when a cock was down her throat, and even that she sucked out. She gagged on choked on Jerome, spit bubbling out of her nostrils as her cheeks went blue, but the Ero wouldn’t let her stop, and neither would I.

I pulled out, the dildo making a long, sick, slurping sound as it came free, long strands of salvia dangling from Candy’s over-fucked face. I leaned down to undo her handcuffs, and once she was free and pulled on her pigtails until she was standing. Her wiggling body was hard to manage, but I threw her head first across the dirty bed in the corner, and she instantly assumed the position of a cock-hungry slut with a dripping, ravenous little pussy spread wide open for me. Her legs were actually shivering, she wanted it so bad.

I was going to give it to her, but not exactly in the way she wanted.

I plunked another Ero-pill from the table and strutted over to where my little slut was waiting for me. Using my thumb, I jammed the pill into the tight, mostly-virginal hole of her little, white ass.

“Na-NO!” she squeaked. “Not a third hit! I . . . I don’t want-”

“Shut the fuck up!”

I pressed Jerome’s spit-lubricated head against the tight opening of her anus, pushing the pill is slowly. I grabbed both of her pigtails, and pulling her head back I slammed my hips forward, burring all ten inches of my biggest, blackest cock deep into her slender, pink body. Her head came back so far that I could look her right in her big, baby blue eyes as the drug set in, and her mind shattered.

“That’s three hits.”


Hours later I emerged from the shower, wiping down my voluptuous body with a fresh towel I had brought with me. They dirty room’s bathroom was as equally filthy and disgusting as its name implied, but after the sweaty work of breaking my new bitch into shape I desperately needed a shower, and a little soap and hot water could do wonders for a girl.

The room looked like a bomb had gone off. The chair was shattered, the table was cracked down the middle, the bed frame was unrecognizable. I was actually impressed by how much damage Candy and I had done to the place. The little slut had been harder to break than I had predicted, even with three hits of Ero frying her brains.

The sad thing was that this had been the first really good, hard, sweaty sex I had gotten in a long time. Since Alessandra . . .

I missed being with a woman, a REAL woman, not a little girl like Candy. I had slept with a few men recently, big brothers packing nine inches each, but it hadn’t been enough to keep me happy. Fucking Candy hadn’t been out of pleasure. The sad fact was this was the only way to beak someone under the hold of Ero . . . and of Eric Lacroix.

Candy was on the floor, naked and glistening with a sheen of sweat, panting like a dog. The look on her face was the most vacant, blissful, pathetic thing I had ever seen.

“Get the fuck up bitch,” I said. “You have a phone call to make.”

I gave her a cell-phone, dialed the strip-joint she worked at, and held up a script I had written in a notepad. She was so mind-wiped that she did exactly as I told her, reading the script almost perfectly, if not for the fact that her voice was totally flat, but if anything that made her sound more convincing as someone suffering from a cold.

” . . . her name’s Tanya,” she finished, and I hung up.

“Good job, sweetie.”

I got dressed and headed out the door. Candy was looking at me like a lost little puppy. There were some young thugs in the hallway, local punks. I got their attention by whistling them over. The leader of them, a handsome young punk of about 19 or 20, thought he was going to get some from me, but no, he wasn’t.

“Check it out,” I said, nodding my head inside where the naked little blonde girl was waiting for a master to pluck her up. “She’s all yours. But be careful with her around carpets. I don’t think she’s potty trained.”


When I showed up to the strip-joint Candy worked at I was taken by surprise at how ritzy it was. This wasn’t some herpes-invested shithole like the kind you found in the Gath, this was in the wealthier red-light district and was a true gentlemen’s club, in the sense that you only got in if you were a member, and you had to be filthy stinking rich to be a member. Dozens of shimmering stripper poles sparkled like golden bars, transparent catwalks in every direction, full bars served by the most beautiful women, and an endless assortment of private rooms spanning the size of an apartment building, this place was a hedonists wet-dream.

It was called The Pearl.

The changing room I walked in to already had a dozen girls inside, most of them wearing little more than makeup, glitter, and body-oil, making their naked bodies sparkle seductively. They were also all doing lines of Ero off of the table in preparation for their work. Two of them, both Asian, were so overwhelmed by the drug that they were kissing one another like starving lesbians, and thrusting their smooth hips together so hard I expected the table they were fucking against to break. A serious but lovely Asian woman in a professional business suit came into the changing room, and when she saw the two humping girls she spanked them with her clipboard.

“Save it for the pole, girls.” She then turned to me and checked me out with a disappointed, bitchy look. “You must be Tanya, Candy’s replacement. Well don’t expect any big tips tonight. Jungle-bunnies like you aren’t what The Pearl is known for.”

“I noticed,” I said, barely resisting the urge to punch the cunt in her perfect nose. I was the only black woman in the place. All of the other strippers were white or Asian.

“I’ll have you serving drinks tonight,” the bitch said. “Now get undressed and find a g-string big enough to fit your fat-ass.”


I wanted to strangle that bitch until her tongue turned blue, but working the floor actually worked in my favor. Not only did it give me the freedom to move around and scope the territory, but the drink tray I carried was the perfect cover for my surveillance equipment. I had brought with me a very small, very hard to notice spy-camera with an equally tiny microphone, both of which I tapped to the bottom of my tray when none of the girls were watching.

As I strutted around the club wearing nothing by a tiny neon green g-string and two green pasties, I found myself attracting a lot more attention than that bitch in the changing-room would have expected, but no wonder. Surrounded by all these vanilla and soy-sauce bitches I bet these boys would be hungry for some chocolate. I may have just been serving drinks, but I strut the floor like a boss, swaying my big, bubble butt with an almost dangerous level of swagger.

If I had wanted to I could have used the footage on my tiny spy-cam to blackmail a lot of powerful people. I served a martini to district attorney as he was getting his balls licked by two barely legal Asian girls with tongue-studs. I served a whiskey-sour to a news anchor I recognized but couldn’t name while he sat in a private room, getting a lap dance from a large breasted stripper dressed as a nun. Passing by another room I peeked in to see a famously anti-gay televangelist one his knees, jacking his tiny four-inch nut while two strapping young men made passionate love to one another in the corner. I actually hung out there for a second, just enjoying the show as my pussy started to get wet. My arousal was actually going to become a problem, I hadn’t been around this much sheer hedonism in a long time, not since my sorority threw the orgy where I met . . . Alessandra . . . but I couldn’t think about that. I had to stay focused on my target.

And there he was. Sitting back in a chair at the far end of the VIP section, with a cocky smirk on his face like he didn’t have a care in the whole world. When I saw him the room went quit, the subwoofers blasting in the club suddenly dying down, and all I could hear was the beating of my own heart. My palms were so sweaty that I almost dropped my tray of over-priced drinks, and my mouth literally salivated with the anticipation of my quarry, but I never lost my cool, not really. I was ready for this.

Eric Lacroix was in his early thirties, about six feet tall, handsome in a rugged, weathered kind of way, especially for a white boy, with that big perfect chin, light stubble, and a smile that just made little bitches just want to giggle their virginities off. He was more handsome in person than he had been in his pictures. Even his mugshots from when he was a young punk dealing weed and pimping high-school girls looked more like headshots for a modeling agency. I had no doubt in my mind that Lacroix had always been the kind of stud who could make a pair of panties drop faster than most boys could get a phone number. Seeing him now, sitting like a king on a throne rather than a drug-dealer in a brothel, I almost couldn’t blame Alessandra for what she did.

“Have you reconsidered my offer?” A smooth, sexual voice asked, a woman’s voice.

Lacroix was not alone he was sitting across from a stunning older Asian woman with pronounced cheekbones and their most subtly done purple rouge. She wore a tight, covering, and yet provocative black dress. I recognized her from a job Interpol did with a department last year. Miho Koga. She was the wife of one of Climax City’s most powerful yakuza bosses, or she had been, until he died under some mysterious circumstance last month. The coroner’s report said her husband died of a sword wound to the gut, several bullet wounds to the back, and a drop from the roof of a ninety-eight story building. It was later ruled a ‘suicide.’ There were no arrests or retaliation from the yakuza. In fact, they seemed quite happy when Miho Koga stepped up to take charge of her husband’s faltering operation. I should have realized that The Pearl was owned by one of Climax City’s kingpins.

“You mean, us going into business together . . . ‘exclusively?'” Lacroix laughed, taking a sip from his drink, a Black Russian on the rocks.

Holy shit he had a sexy laugh. He had a slight accent, something melted between Louisiana Cajun and a Mississippi droll. Something about his voice alone felt like a warm breeze was blowing between my legs.

“Sorry mon cher,” Lacroix continued. “But it would just never work between us. You are a beautiful, powerful woman of importance in the community, and I am just a lowly rogue, getting by with nothing but his wits and luck. I simply don’t deserve you.” He laughed again, dripping with the sweetest false-modesty.

Miho was breathing so hard that I could see her nipples bushing against the tight material of her dress. Her beautiful eyes fluttered half-open, almost as if she were about to pass out.

“I could make you a king,” she said. “With your drugs and my network, we could conquer this city. Forget the mayor, forget the kingpins. We’d cut them down like grass.” She leaned forward and grasped his firm, muscular leg, her lovely face melting with desperation. “That night you gave me was the most incredible night I have ever experienced. It changed me, It changed EVERYTHING! I can’t . . . I can’t go back to the way I was before you. I-”

“Can I get another Black Russian,” Lacroix interrupted, turning away from the now crying Miho. Dark purple rivers started to drip down her cheeks.

It took me a moment to realize he was talking to me. His piercing blue eyes were cutting apart my chest like knives. “Uh . . . sure. One sex-I mean ‘sec.’ One second.”

I turned and marched to the nearest bar like my ass was on fire, and it almost felt like it was. My pussy was so hot and wet I might have left a trail of drops on the floor. The bartender was a skinny blonde thing wearing nothing but a bowtie and a black thong. She was chatting it up with a handsome brother, biting her lip nervously as he asked her what time she got off, making it fairly obvious that he wanted to ‘get off.’ I pushed him aside so hard that he fell out of his seat and hit his head against the table on the way down.

“He! What’re you-”

“A Black Russian!” I demanded. “Now!”

As I returned to Lacroix with his drink I saw that Miho had regained her composure, or at least most of it. Her legs were still trembling as she choked back the emotions pushing her to the verge of a sexual hysteria. My timing was perfect too. Lacroix had just planted a metal briefcase onto the glass table between them, and there was no doubt in my mind what it was: Ero. It had to all be Ero. Possibly a million dollars’ worth.

“And the money?” Lacroix was asking.

“In your private room,” Miho said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “Or you could . . . if you wanted to . . . come up to my room we could-”

“And there’s my Black Russian,” Lacroix said, once again ignoring the desperate crime-lord practically on her knees before him. “And brought to me by such a lovely black queen. What’s your name, mon amour?”

“Tanya,” I said, never breaking eye contact with him. As I placed his drink on the table and made sure to bend my ass over right in his face, letting him get a nice, big view of my delicious yams. I wasn’t flirting though. I was just getting a better angle for my spy-cam to snap footage of the metal case. Really!

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he said. “I’m very familiar with the girls here, a little too familiar maybe, and I must say, you are quite the refreshment.”

I refuse to believe that I was blushing, but there was no denying how soaked my thong was. “I’m just covering for a friend, serving drinks.”

“You’re not a dancer?” he asked, sounding a little coy and a little disappointed.

“I’m not working the poles tonight, but . . .,” I let my gaze fall to his lap, and my jaw dropped when I saw the monstrous, impossible bulge growing there, ” . . . but maybe I just haven’t found the right pole yet.”

“Well tell you what, Tanya,” he said, pronouncing my name like it was butter melting on his tongue, “why don’t you come with me up to my private room and give me a private dance. I’ll make sure you get what’s coming to you.”

Perfect! I thought, and definitely NOT because I wanted to take a horsey ride in this asshole’s lap. He was going to make the switch between the money and the drugs in his room. I’d have the perfect opportunity to collect the evidence I needed to put his ass in jail for-fucking-ever.

“Lead the way,” I said, tucking my tray under my arm and pouting my thick lips like an impatient little girl.

He rose up to his feet with strong, feral grace, and although he was only about five inches taller than me he felt like a giant, and I was not a woman accustomed to feeling small. My ass was too much for most brothers to handle, and yet something about Lacroix made me think he could lift me up with one hand and throw me around a room like a blowup doll.

He took my arm and led me away as the crime-lord Miho Koga, the Yakuza Queen, watched with the most bewildered look of betrayal on her face. She was stammering almost incoherently.

“Bastard . . . you piece of . . . wait!” she yelled at his back. “Please I . . . I killed my husband for-”

“Say hello to you daughter for me,” Lacroix winked back at her. “I know she misses me just as much as you do.”


The moment the elevator doors opened I felt Lacroix’s hand press firmly against my back, and he shoved me into the empty compartment. I hit the mirrored wall with a bouncy thud as the soft parts of my body jiggled from the unexpected impact, and my nipples grew hard from the sudden contact with the cold glass. It wasn’t until right then that I realized how hot my body had become. I was burning up.

Damn it! I dropped my tray though. It rolled on the floor and started to spin on it side like a big coin, and I held my breath hoping Lacroix wouldn’t see the camera I had taped to the bottom. Thank God, the tray landed with the camera side down.

“Hey!” I yelled. “What was that for-”

My question died with a wet muffle as his lips impacted with mine and his hot, impossibly strong tongue slipped into my mouth and subdued me. I had never understood that my mouth could be an erogenous zone, but I swear to God that this man had just found a g-spot hidden on the back of my mouth, and was tongue-fucking me towards a beautiful orgasm. His body pressed against mine, and I could feel just how hard his muscles were through the cool, smooth material of his clothing. Something about that feeling alone, the feeling of my naked body being caressed by a fully clothed man, it just made me feel so weak, and for some reason I liked that. No man had ever pleased me like Alessandra did . . . but no man had ever made me feel this way either . . . and . . . just . . . fuck.

As he pulled away a shimmering strand of saliva dangled from his lips, and it broke when I felt the heavy embrace of his body leave me cold. I think I might have actually whimpered like a pathetic little girl whose popsicle just been taken away. I slowly turned around, but I found my legs so wobbly that I had to lean against the mirror. My breasts were heaving and so sweaty that one of my pasties had just fallen off, and the now revealed nipple was over an inch erect. My hand sunk down to my tiny thong and I found the crotch of it soaking wet. The mere touch of my fingers was enough to send an almost painful tremble through my body. Holy shit . . . what was happening to me.

“Ero!” I said.

Lacroix was smiling. He had pushed Ero into my mouth with his tongue. It must have dissolved during our kiss, which meant he was exposed to it too. Of course he was, the waves of heat coming from his body were so powerful it felt like they were pushing me down. But unlike me he seemed in control of his high, completely! I was Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, and he was Dionysus drinking his own wine.

“Listen Tanya,” he said with a tone that really sounded like ‘listen BITCH,’ “I’m not really interested in watching a dance. Truth be told, I just made a multi-million dollar sale and I want to celebrate, which in my mind mean spending a whole night doing nothing but having hard, hot sex.”

“Why . . . why me . . . all those girls-”

“I’ve already fucked half those girls, and the other half are just . . . the same. Besides, when I’m on Ero I can’t control myself. I fuck for as long, and as hard as I am able, and most girls simply can’t keep up. The last stripper of Miho’s I took, some redheaded farm girl with big, freckled tits, she ended up in the hospital. But you . . .,” His strong hands gripped my buttocks and squeezed, and for the first time in my life I felt like my ass was small. He squeezed so hard that he actually started to lift me off the ground, and my breasts pressed against his cool silk short as I trembled on my tippy-toes. ” . . . I think your body can take a beating. Even from a weapon like this.”

His hips pushed against me only slightly, but something hanging between his legs pressed against my soaked cunt with the weight and thickness of a baseball bat. Impossible! It . . . it couldn’t be-


Floor 69. We were here.


I had been so eager to follow him out of the elevator that I had almost left my tray, but at the last moment I managed a coherent thought and picked it back up, holding it behind my back like a little girl trying to hide something naughty. I was still on a mission here. I needed more photos. Photos of the drugs, photos of the money, photos of his hot . . . chiseled body . . . no! Concentrate! Fuck!

He opened the door to his private room and I lost my breath when I took it all in. This room, which wasn’t even his actual apartment, was bigger than any house I had ever lived in. The ceiling was higher than the church’s I had gone to as a kid, and the entire far wall was nothing but giant windows gazing out over the twinkling skyline of Climax City. Piled up an a large glass table in the middle of the room was more cash than I had ever seen in my life. Even when divided into $100 bills, a million dollars was still a fucking lot of paper.

“Holy shit, this is-”

Suddenly he was in front of me, taking of his coat with a strong, dominant flourish of his shoulders. I thought he was going to embrace me again so I prepared for another pussy-shattering kiss, but instead all I felt was his hand gripping the nape of my neck. He pushed my down, and suddenly I was on all fours, kneeling like a dog with my big ass higher than my head. Then I felt him plant his foot on my ass, the cold, dirty bottom of his shoe pressing against my firm flesh.

“Now be a good girl and hold still,” he said. “Daddy needs to untie his shoe laces.”

Holy shit! He was using my as a fucking footstool! What the fuck! FUCK!

I wanted to scream, but when I tried all that came out was a hoarse, whiny little whisper.

His Italian leather shoes fell to the floor, and then I heard him undoing buttons. I looked up and saw the only proof I needed to know God was real, because his chest was immaculate. Not hairless, but not hairy; glistening, but not sweaty; chiseled like a marble statue, but not bulging obscenely like some sort of bodybuilder. I think a tear rolled down my cheek as I admired him. Fuck Michelangelo. Eric Lacroix made David look a piece of shit.

Lacroix was smiling down at his new bitch . . . me.

“Want to help Daddy take off his belt?”

“Fffffffe! Fu . . . Fu-fu,” I had actually forgotten how to speak. “Fuck you!”

I managed to get up without falling back over and I stumbled over to the nearest couch, my pussy so swollen that I had to walk with a wide gate like some kind of stupid cracka cowboy.

“You know what?” I said. “Fuck you! I’m not attracted to gay-ass white boys like you, spending all your time doing crunches and shit, just so you can look like those faggots from those teen Vampire movies.”

“Are you sure, mon cher?” he laughed. “Because you’re dripping all over my carpet.”

I had to bite my lip to stop from screaming. “It’s not you. It’s the Ero. And even with this shit I bet you couldn’t fuck me like a real man, like a BLACK man.” Normally I didn’t go race-baiting people, being a quarter white myself, but I wanted to humiliate this honkey-ass white boy wanna-be-thug. The hood-rat in me was coming out. Shit was about to get ghetto up in here. “What do I look like to you? One of those flat-ass white crack-whores downstairs? Or one of them pedophile-bait slant-eyed chink-bitches! Sheeeeet! Fuck that! I’m a real woman, and I fuck real men. Nine inches, white boy. Nine-fucking-inches!” I held my hands in front of my face to show him what nine inches looked like. “That’s what I’ve been fucking with! What you got? Six? If you’re lucky you’ve got six. And I know what you’re thinking: ‘But Taannnnyyyyaaa, six inches is aaaavvvveeerrrrrage.’ Well fuck THAT! Three inches is a big fucking difference! Three inches is all it takes to separate a man from a boy, and a boy from a bitch! Three inches is what separates my g-spot from you tiny little prick, bitch! Those three inches are the reason yo momma left yo daddy, and yo first girlfriend lost her virginity to that nigga under the bleachers while you were busy playing Magic or Pokemon or some shit with your friends . . . . FAGGOT!”

Damn. Where was all this coming from?

As I heaved and gasped, my last pasty falling off from the sweat dripping down my breasts, Lacroix just stood there with a look on his face like he was watching a child have a tantrum, never loosing even an ounce of his cool.

“Mon cher, do you see that ruler over there on the table?”

I looked over and saw on a glass table there indeed was a shiny, metal twelve-inch ruler, resting near a small pile of powdered Ero.

“Go get it,” he said.

I didn’t respond at first, but for some reason I did as I was told. I moved over and grabbed it. The ruler was heavier than it looked and a little sharp. He had used into to smash Ero-pills into powder for snorting.

“Now come over here, get down on your knees, and measure my fucking cock.”

A shiver ran through my body when the word ‘cock’ hit me like a slap to the face. Something about the way he said it just made that word sound heavier. A cold, invisible hand moved up my spine, and I almost felt embarrassed, like a teenager seeing pornography for the first time.

I did as I was told though, slowly getting to my knees since my wobbly legs were still being affected by the Ero in my system. The bulge in his pants looked huge, but I knew it had to be a trick of some sort. Maybe the drug was fucking with my sense of perception. The room was spinning a little, and the colors in the room seemed much more vivid than they should have.

Taking in a deep breath, I grabbed the clasp of his belt, needing a surprising amount of strength to unclasp it. I tugged at the hemline of his pants, struggling with the zipper and button as I tugged down. Something big and thick was straining the hem, and I was having trouble pushing the pants over it, but I still refused to believe-


White stars bounced around my vision as I looked up to see a thick, vein covered forearm bearing down over me with threatening dominance, only it wasn’t a forearm.

It was the biggest, thickest, longest, hardest, and baddest cock I had ever seen in my whole fucking life. It didn’t even look possible, like it was inhuman, but at the same time it was also the most beautiful, mouthwatering piece of meat imaginable. My mouth popped into a big ‘O’ as my eyes bulged in awe.

No. This couldn’t be real.

“Measure it,” he said.

“I . . . it can’t . . . but it isn’t real-”

“I said measure it bitch!” he screamed, and although he didn’t move to hit me I flinched as if he had. Suddenly my body was trembling for a reason other than my arousal. I was afraid.

My hand shook as I brought the metal ruler up to his already adamantine-erect cock, almost dropping it as I pressed it against the rough, ridged underside. The bottom end of the ruler was barely touching the base of his cock where a big leathery sack stuffed with two apricots hung between his legs, and yet the tip of the ruler couldn’t quite measure up to the bulbous, thick tip of his penis. Something was wrong, the ruler had to be missing a few inches.

“Measure . . . it . . . bitch.”

I did. With tears in my eyes, I did.

“Te-twelve inches,” I gasped, barely able to speak. “You’re just over twelve inches.”

He smiled. He had won. “That’s right bitch. So what was it you were saying about three inches?”

“I . . . I . . it doesn’t matter how big you-mmphf!”

My words were shoved down my throat as the bulbous head of his cock suddenly rammed into my mouth, and slickened by his sweat and my own salivation it went eight inches deep in less than a second. My throat bulged so grotesquely that I was sure something was going to break, and that I was going to die, but instead my body’s natural elasticity took over and I somehow managed it, even if I couldn’t breathe at all. He was so deep that I could feel my tonsils resting in his cum-slit, and yet I was still looking at another four inches of thick meat protruding out of my mouth.

Lacroix smirked dominantly. “Stupid bitch. I thought that would shut you up.”

His strong hands gripped the sides of my head, his fingers pulsing with enough strength to crush my skull like an egg, but instead of slamming his cock deeper he actually began to pull out, but this was torture to because he went very slowly, and ever second I was getting closer to suffocating. His cock filled my throat so completely that as it slid out it created a suction, so what little air I had in my lungs was sucked out with it, and it almost felt like my chest was going to implode. The thick ridge of his helmet was so pronounced that it got hooked into my teeth, and he started to buck trying to get loose. My cheeks were sucked in as if I had just eaten a lemon, my fat lips polishing every centimeter of his pussy-pulverizer, and I tried to push his head out with my tongue, but all that did was tickle his salty urethra.

“Fucking bitch! Let go!”

He open palm came down and hit my right on the forehead. My mouth came flying off the giant plug of his cockhead with a loud POP!, shooting large wads of spit in every direction.

“uuuuuuUUUUUHHHH!” I inhaled, filling my lungs with much needed oxygen, but I choked on some of my own spit and began to cough uncontrollably, puking thick dollops of saliva all over my breasts.

Through the tears and sparkling white lights in my eyes I looked up to see Lacroix, frowning down at me with intense disappointment.

“Fucking armature. Do you have any idea how rare it is for me to get a proper blowjob?”

He hands dove under my arms and he effortlessly lifted me up into the air like I was a child. The room spun as he flipped me over and sat me down on the couch upside-down, so that my ass was against the headrest and my head hung over the seat. I was looking up right at the angry slit of his mammoth cock, it’s impossible length dripping with my saliva and glistening like polished wood.

He pushed the dripping head of his gargantuan gash-breaker against my cheek, and it left a wet trail of sex as he rubbed his cock across my face. He wiped my crying eyes with the tip of his monster mast, collecting a thin sheen of tears as further lubrication for the oral punishment I knew I was about to receive.

“Now, we’re going to do this until we do it right,” he said, once again pushing the globular head of his bitch-breaker against my pillowed lips, and all I could do was muffle and whimper pathetically as my jaw began to make way for another attack. I wanted to bite down, but no, I really didn’t. My body wasn’t under my control.

He pushed in slower this time, working his fat cock inch by inch rather than just ramming it straight down. Once against I felt my throat swell to accommodate him, but this time it was a little easier, because this time my body knew to accept him. The damage was already done anyway, and I was sure that my voice was going to sound different after this devastating blowjob. My vision was dominated by the sight of his glistening shaft disappearing into my mouth, and then of his massive balls descending on my face. As I lost my ability to breathe, and his heavy sperm-tanks came to a rest on my eye-sockets, I knew that I had done it. I had taken all of him. I was kissing his salty, thick base. I had never been so proud of myself. I could feel his heart beating through his cock.

“Good girl, mon cheri, good girl!” he praised me, gasping happily, and I felt my tits swelling with pride. “But let’s see if you can take a fucking. Last girl I did this to broke her jaw.”

His balls flew back from my eyes, his impossible twelve inches of cock sliding out of my mouth with a loud slurping sound. He left the fat head in though, but I was able to inhale through my nostrils at least as long strands of spit began to ooze down my face.

I felt one of his hands take a strong grip on my breasts, squeezing a nipple so hard that I could feel it turning purple, and his other hand rested on my sobbing cunt for support. His touch alone sent electric shivers through me, and I felt ready for him.

“Alright bitch, here it comes.”


His cock rocketed back it, wetly sliding a foot deep into my gullet as his balls slapped against my eyes.


His cock withdrew again, and came back with a vengeance. Every thrust became faster, and harder, and wetter, and meaner, and angrier. His grip on my pussy started to tighten, two of his fingers singing into the wet folds of my cunt through the material of my neon green thong. His big, fat balls kept slapping me in the face as his titanic titty-fucker used my esophagus like a cheap sex-toy that could have broken for all he cared.

“Holy fuck . . . your throat . . . so smooth . . . so wet . . . so good.”

“Mmmph, mmmmoooo,” I muffled, either confessing my undying love for him, or begging him not to kill me, I wasn’t sure, my mind was in a thousand different places.

Suddenly I felt his big cock twitch, growing several centimeters more in diameter, pushing my jaw closer to the point of dislocating, and his balls seized up into his body and they began to pump visibly. His first blast of cum shot right into my stomach, punching my guts so hard I wanted to scream. The next shot came when he was pulling out, and so it filled my throat with so much hot cream that it gushed into my mouth like melted marshmallow. He slammed back in, dropping two more pumps directly into my stomach.

He roared and pulled at my thong, snapping it from my body like a rubber band, exposing my gushing pussy to his hungry mouth, and he dove in voraciously, his strong tongue thickly filling my pussy just as well as any cock ever had, and like a sexual sniper he found my g-spot instantly and killed the bitch. Even as I was gagging on his cock and trying to cough up the copious cum-load filling me, I shook with erotic spasms from what was probably the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life, my vagina spraying honey like a broken faucet. He kissed my pussy like a true, passionately lover, slurping up my juice, all the while fucking my mouth as if it were the dirtiest pussy to ever walk the earth.

When he pulled back his cum-slickened cock slid all the way out of my mouth, but the head got caught in my teeth again, and within seconds my mouth was so full of semen that it began to shoot out of my nose like milk. I tried to swallow it all down, but there was simply too much and it came too fast. My mouth filled, and my cheeks swelled to the point of popping, and his head exploded from my cock. Several more thick ropes of his baby-batter jizzed across my face and tits, frosting me like a chocolate birthday cake with vanilla spread.

He stood over me jacking his cock with both hands, sighing loudly as his chiseled body quaked with the intense aftershock of his orgasm. I could only see out of one eye because the other was so caked in cum, but I looked up at him still with complete and utter devotion, even as I involuntarily vomited up most of the delicious milk he fed me, my breasts bouncing painfully on my quivering chest.

“Well, I always said that if she could suck dick half as well as she ate pussy then she’d be able to take you.”

That voice! The beautiful, feminine voice!

I tried to roll over but I couldn’t, my body was too stiff and exhausted, but I strained my neck to see her. The woman standing in the doorway was one of the most lovely creatures I had ever witnessed to exist. Tan skin, curly light brown hair, high cheekbones, and hot, heavy eyes. She was wearing tight white pants that hugged her slender buttocks like a layer of paint, and over her firm, perky breasts she wore an open white blazer, but that was all. There was nothing under the jacket but a gold chain that almost matched the color and sheen of her skin. She was holding her hands on her hips, her legs spread wide, and she had the most devilish smile on her face. The thing that stood out most of all was the collar around her neck though. Now that I was seeing it in person it was painfully obvious what it was, despite being gold plated. It was a dog’s collar. It was a bitch’s collar.

“Ale-(cough, cough)-Alessandra,” I choked past all the cum blocking up my throat.

She sighed loudly. “Hello, Tanya.”

“So this was your partner on the force, back when you two were beat cops,” Lacroix asked, working out the last thick dollops of cum from his deflating (but still superior) cock.

Alessandra nodded her head.

“Tanya Washington,” Lacroix continued. “Your . . . can I say . . . girlfriend? Your lover? The one you met in college?”

Alessandra frowned shyly and blushed. “It was just a stage, Daddy. I’ve never loved anyone but you. Not really.”

“Alley,” I choked through the semen. “You told him about . . . about us?”

Allesandra snorted. “There is no US, Tanya, and this stupid plan of yours was a farce from the beginning. Did you really think this was going to work?” she said to me, sounding and looking very upset. “Did you really think that you could sneak in here and . . . what? Rescue me? Bitch, look around! Look at how I’m living! Why would I want to be ‘rescued?’ Why would I want to go back to being a fucking cop, busting my ass trying to put away punks who make ten times the money I do, and live more in a week than I would in a lifetime?”

“Because I-(cough, cough)-love-”


Her hand slapped across my face so hard that it painted the nearby wall with sperm.

“Love?” she laughed. “Fuck you, you fat dyke!” I watched as Lacroix put his hand around her waist, and she melted against his chest like a piece of golden butter on a hot loaf of bread, her slender hand stroking his dripping cock back to its full erectness.

“How could I ever love anything but . . . mmm . . .this?”

She held the cock up to my face, as if I had never seen it before, even though it had just made love to the opening of my stomach.

Alessandra leaned over my face, her lips hovering centimeters away from mine. I could smell the gin on her breathe, even through the fog of salty musk.

“Daddy heard about what you did to Candy. That poor little slut. You ruined her, you know. Maybe permanently. And you did that to her just to get here, just to catch Daddy doing something naughty, and to bring me back so we can play lesbo-house together. Pathetic. I just want you to know, fuck-bag, that Daddy and I, what you did to Candy, we’re going to do the same to you.”

I watched helplessly as she withdrew a Ero-pill from her pocket, placed it on her tongue, and leaned down to give me a big, sloppy, perfect kiss; pushing the pill into my semen-saturated mouth as her tongue outmaneuvered mine with erotic grace. As the pill dissolved and attacked my body I could literally feel my clit spring back up, as hard and as erect as a teenage penis.

Alessandra laughed. “That’s two hits, bitch. One more and . . . well . . . you already know.”


They drug kicked in fast. I wasn’t a person anymore, I was just a sexual, hot piece of flesh that was horny as all fuck. I would have done anything to get some love, and dirty, depraved thing that was asked of me, and I would have followed the chiseled god that was Eric Lacroix to the ends of the fucking earth just to feel his cock inside me.

Lucky for me, I didn’t have to go that far, but although I would have followed him like the obedient fuck-toy I now was, he still felt it necessary to grip me by the nape of the neck, push me to all fours, and lead me along the carpeted floor like an untrained bitch.

Alessandra went ahead of us, and as I followed her I knew she was undressing even though Lacroix wouldn’t let me look up. I knew this because I was crawling over her discarded clothes First I crawled over her white blazer, then her tight white pants, and finally a lacey white thong of material so sheer it must have been transparent on her.

They led me into a bedroom with a large, white bed and a huge balcony overlooking the hot city below. Alessandra was already naked except for her collar as she crept onto the bed, her perfect ass swaying hypnotically. There was something new about her: a tattoo. Right in the deep cleavage of her ass there was a small tramp-stamp of a black fleur-de-lis, Eric Lacroix’s perosal symbol, except over hers was a small crown. That crown must have signified her as the queen of his bitches.

Lacroix pulled me by the neck into a standing position, and he roughly led me over to a small coffee table. From a nearby drawer he pulled out a big, fat dildo that rivaled Jerome in sheer misogynistic size, but it still failed to compare to Lacroix’s living pussy-punisher, which was already hardening again despite the gallon of spunk he had nearly drowned me in. He placed the dildo on the table, cockhead sticking straight up.

“Sit on it,” he commanded.

I would have obeyed, I really would have, but he didn’t even give me time. He strongly pulled me around him, lowering my swollen, hot pussy onto the unlubricated head of the giant rubber cock, but the moment the first inch pushed its way into my warm pocket I nearly pissed it wet with cum. I lowered myself down slowly, every inch causing me so much excruciating pleasure that it felt like I was going to throw up.

I was already four inches down, but that wasn’t fast enough for Lacroix. He had lost patience with me.

“I said sit on it, bitch!”

His strong, rough hands gripped my shoulders, and with one easy push he slammed by body down onto the cock that my ass cracked the table and the big rubbery balls nearly sunk inside me. The feeling of the hard cockhead smacking against my cervix plus its full length gliding over my enraged clit was too much. I leaned back and screamed as a painful orgasm jiggled through my body.

“fu-fu-FFFFUUUUUCCCKK!!!” I cried, legs shivering with little spasms as I stained both the table and carpet under me.

Lacroix chuckled a little. “Dirty slut.”

He groped one of my big, fat tits, holding it up in his hand as if he were inspecting the freshness of a cantaloupe. He raised is other hand, and then brought it down with a vicious slap across my tit.


“eee . . . EAK!” I whimpered, my breast bouncing up and down from the titty-smack.

Despite the strange, arousing pain that was melting my brain, I still felt the overwhelming urge to fuck, so when I saw his cock bobbing in front of my face, fully erect and terrifying, I leaned in submissively and tried to taste it with my tongue. He pulled away though, his bulbous head evading my tongue by such little distance that a drop of his cock-sweat actually fell into my mouth, and the salty taste made me shiver. I cried as he continued to pull away, his salty balls hanging just beyond the tip of my tongue.

“No, bitch. You had your turn. Now be a good slut and sit.”

Lacroix’s muscular ass filled my vision as he turned and mounted the bed. Alessandra had her face down, her ass up, and she was wiggling her body for attention. She cried out erotically as Lacroix’s hands gripped her slender waist, bringing an end to her sexual wiggling, and he began to slide the incredible length of his cock up and down the crevice of her pussy and ass. Like a skilled violinist testing his instrument, he played her body to create the most mind-blowing, erotic music. As his hard shaft stroked her anus she whimpered with fear, but when he stroked her clit she had to bite a pillow to stop from screaming.

She was already so wet that I could see her trembling legs dripping with cum, and when he entered her it was like a baseball bat striking a chunk of watermelon. Her head reared back so fast that she tore a hole in her pillow, and a cloud of fluffy white feathers clung to her hot, sweaty chest.

I don’t know for how long Lacroix fucked Alessandra. It felt like an eternity, like an endless heaven of godly sex. I was lost in a hot, sticky, frustrating world of carnal pleasure as I watched two sexual deities vie for control of the universe, but it was very clear from the beginning which of them was more powerful, and which of them wanted nothing more than to just submit. Lacroix bent Alessandra into every shape and angle humanly possible, and I’m sure if it hadn’t been for the years she spent as a advanced yoga teacher during college, Alessandra would not have survived the fucking Lacroix was giving her.

When their earth-shattering copulation came to an end, Alessandra was laying on her back, deep in a damp swamp of ruined sheets and torn pillows. Her breasts heaved as she gasped loudly for air, her limbs still shivering from an onslaught of relentless orgasms.

Lacroix mounted her one final time, thrusting his thick meat between her breasts and into her hot, slobbering mouth. She looked up at him with wide, worshipful eyes as he simultaneously fucked her tits and her mouth, and with every thrust he went deeper, his balls sliding closer and closer to her chin.

But despite what an epic slut Alessandra was, she was still not Lacroix’s equal. When his ninth inch slid into her stretched, sucking mouth, she began to choke. Her eyes rolled back, her chest flexed in almost disgusting detail, and she began to spasm in a desperate, animalistic attempt to escape. She was gagging like some slutty eighteen year old going down on her first big cock (which I had witnessed our freshman year), and although her cheeks were turning blue and spit bubbled from her nose, Lacroix wouldn’t let her go.

“So close,” he grunted. “You were so close this time, you fucking cunt.”

Just as I thought Alessandra was going to pass out form asphyxiation, he pulled out, his cock exploding from her mouth with a dozen long, slobbery tendrils. He rose off of her like an angry titan over a conquered goddess, and her body flopped over gulping down loud mouthfuls of air. She was breathing so violently that he breasts bounced around her glistening chest, and her arms clawed at the sheets. As soon as she had caught her breath I realized she was crying.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry Daddy. I tried so hard. No one . . . (cough, cough) . . . there’s no one who can swallow that whole cock without gagging.”

I was watching my ex-partner and ex-lover apologize to the man who stole her from me because she wasn’t a good enough slut, but instead of feeling angry or jealous all I felt was disgust. Disgust with her. What was she doing with Eric Lacroix if she couldn’t even suck his cock? He deserved better than her. Daddy deserved me.

“I can,” I said, slowly emerging from my own sexual fog. I had been grinding myself against the fat dildo this whole time, but when Eric’s divine body stopped moving so did mine. He was the ocean’s tide, I was just mermaid caught in it. “I can suck his cock.”

Eric looked at me for the first time without an arrogant smirk on his face. “Alright. Let’s see it.”

Alessandra’s eyes went wide with tears. She looked back and forth between the two of us. “Na-NO! Daddy! Not her! Not that fat dyke!”

My legs shook as I stood up, and my pussy loudly slurped as it came off the nine, soaking inches of dildo. I picked it up and brought it to my mouth, first giving the rubber helmet a teasing little kiss, and then in one, masterful stroke I sucked it balls deep. All nine inches went down my throat and back out again without so much as I hiccup. My puffy lips smiled dominantly as I brought it back out, sucked so clean that it was almost dry.

Alessandra was enraged. Of course this dildo was nothing compared to a real, hot, pulsing dick, but I had made my point and humiliated her. She stood up, almost falling as her knees shook, but then she charged at me.

“Bitch! I’ll kill-”


I cock-slapped her across the face with the dildo so hard that she spun on her feet. She fell against the cracked table I had been fucking myself on and shattered through it. She let out a small, feminine whimper as she lost consciousness.

I dropped the dildo between her perfect breasts as I strutted over to where Lacroix was waiting for me, kneeling on the edge of the bed. I smiled into his gorgeous face as I glided to my knees, the head of his cock slapping against my cheek a little. I needed both hands just to get a grip on him he was so fucking thick, but I knew I could handle it. I was born for this.

Running my tongue playfully over his head, I traced the deep ridge of his helmet, and tickled the opening hole of his urethra, but he seemed unimpressed. Nothing I could do would surprise him, nothing but take him to the base under my own power. I’m sure he had gone balls deep into other girls, but always by plowing them with his unstoppable hips, and I’m sure that one or two of them had not survived the pleasure of being his fuck-toy.

But I was going to survive, and I was going to impress him.

Inhaling deeply, I pushed myself forward, my lips sucking down inch after glistening inch of hard, pulsing flesh. I felt my body wanting to gag only by the sixth inch. He was so thick, his taste so strong, that I think some part of me knew if I kept going I was going to surrender myself to him completely, and that part wanted to stay free. Well, that part of me had to go. I was going to be Eric’s slut. I wanted to be his fuck-toy. He was my Daddy!

I pushed, my throat opening up like it never had before, and when I felt my chin mashing against the thick, heavy skin of his scrotum I could have died right then from happiness. I looked up at him, has face smiling past his labyrinth of shiny muscles, and even though my thick lips were stretched to the limit I think he knew I was smiling back.

His hands fell against the back of my head, gripping my short hair, and he started to pump my throat with slow, powerful thrusts. I could feel the flanged head of his cock sliding up and down my esophagus, tickling and choking me at the same time, but I kept my cool and never lost control. In fact, I was loving it.

He picked up his pace, his balls slapping against my chin, his cock causing my fat lips to distend from my mouth so far I could see them. He was going faster and harder, his hips a sexy blur in the dark, steamy room, but I never let myself gag. Gagging would have been a failure, a rejection of his perfect, delicious cock.

“Ta-tanya,” he moaned. “Holy shit! TANYA!!!”

His first shot went straight into my stomach, and the rest filled my mouth, but I never let a single drop flood past my lips, even though it felt like I was gulping down more thick, salty batter than my body could handle. He tried to pull out, but I wouldn’t let him. My hands gripped his firm buttocks and I held up deep, my chin once again digging into his testicles as I pressed my nose against his rock-hard crotch. Almost a minute passed before he stopped shuddering from what I was sure was the best orgasm he had gotten in years.

I quickly slid off, slurping loudly as I went, but never losing control. When I got to his thick, flanged helmet I didn’t get stuck this time, but I gracefully popped off with a satisfying smack. His cock was left clean and shiny. Not a single precious drop of his cum had gone to waist. If it had, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.

I gulped the last of it down, and when it was gone I licked my lips clean.

“Ho-holy shit!” he actually stuttered. “That was-”

“Amazing?” I interrupted. I smiled like a naughty kitten who just found a fat milk-filled piece of meat to suck on. “Daddy, you haven’t seen nothing yet.”

I rolled back, spread my legs, and offered up my hot, swollen, desperately dripping vagina, and he destroyed it.


That night I became a new person. The heat from Daddy’s cock melted me down into nothing, and then he reshaped me, his fiery cock like a blacksmith’s hammer, and that bed the anvil. I was so accustomed to being the dominant one, to being the girl on top, whose big ass slapped niggas into submission and made them cry for mommy, but Eric could have swept me away with the back of his hand. My big ass was nothing to him, and he nearly split it into two pieces as he fucked me into a wild delirium. I knew he was fucking me harder than any bitch he had ever fucked before, and I was taking it like the special little cock-pillow I was. As beautiful and sexy as Alessandra was, I knew she could never have taken punishment like this. Eric was a god of destruction, and I was his perfect instrument, born specifically to satisfy his unstoppable sexual rage. Eric wanted to take fucking to a new level, and I was the only bitch who could go there with him and come back.


I saw Alessandra stumbling out of the bedroom around noon the next day, looking exhausted and confused, her naked body filthy with dried sexual fluids. And she saw me too, my face bobbing up and down on Daddy’s big, perfect cock while he ate breakfast at the table.

“Mu-mu collar?” Alessandra stuttered, her slender hands rubbing her naked neck. “Where’s my-”

And then she saw it: the gold plated bitch-collard Daddy had given her. I was wearing it.

Daddy’s hands fell to my head as he came again, my cheeks instantly swelling with his large load. As I gulped it down I smiled at her; my hot, heavy eyes saying everything she need to know.

She had been replaced. I was Daddy’s new favorite.

“We’re going to have to talk about getting that tattoo removed,” I said to her through a semen-saturated mouth. Her hands intuitively fell to her special tramp stamp, the fleur-de-lis with the crown. She whimpered as she realized she was going to lose everything Eric had given her. She was going to lose it to me. “I’m the queen bitch now.”

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