Message-ID: <27753asstr$976180203@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <news@dejanews.com> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: Pink Bette <pinkbet@my-deja.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <90mr0m$cba$1@nnrp1.deja.com> X-Article-Creation-Date: Thu Dec 07 02:00:58 2000 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Black burglars 1 (Tom) (MMF reluc d/s interr) Date: Thu, 7 Dec 2000 04:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/27753> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: english, dennyw BLACK BURGLARS 1: TOM As labeled, this is an interracial story. It contains racist and sexist language and a touch of domination/submission. It also involving an initially reluctant "rape" victim. Standard disclaimers apply. This is a story for adults; if you're a kid, close your eyes and go away. If you think the story will offend you, ditto. Thanks, Pink Bette ----------- BLACK BURGLARS 1: TOM I came awake with a start and lay there in the dark, blinking my eyes confusedly. Some noise... the wind? Maybe a car on the street. I lived in a basement apartment and my bedroom window was close to the street. Over time I'd become used to the noise, but car doors slamming sometimes still woke me up. I closed my eyes and began to drift off. Then I heard it again and I opened my eyes. I could feel my heart rate increase. The noise continued, very close to me, and I thought, it's the window. It was one of those times when I felt that if I just stayed still, whatever was scaring me would go away -- but it didn't. I sat up abruptly, turning to look toward the window, and I saw a dark shadow in the window. It moved, and part of it -- a leg, I thought -- came through. Cheap damn window, I though irrelevantly, desparately trying to think what to do. I jumped up from the bed and ran to the bathroom. The bathroom door didn't have a lock, but there was a broom in there, and maybe I could stab it at whoever was climbing in my window and scare them away, at least long enough to call the cops. The figure was halfway through the window when I ran back in wielding the broom. I rushed in with a yell before I had time to scare myself out of it, rushed in with the broomhandle foremost, to stick it to his guts. It connected, hard, and I heard him "oof!" painfully. But he was too far in now; he dropped to the floor and simply grabbed the broom to wrest it out of my hands. "God*damn*!" he exclaimed, bent over with the pain. "Sam, goddamn, get in here, we got a live one!" And he forced himself to stand straight up, moving around the bed with the broom held threateningly in his hand. Stupid damn bedroom, I thought. He already had me blocked off, and a shadow at the window told me that whoever Sam was, he was about to drop in on my too. That's when I remembered I was stark raving naked. And, for lack of anything better to do, I leapt into the bed and pulled the covers over me. The guy I'd punched with the broom switched on the light. He stood blinking against the brightness, just as I was doing, and then he said, "Goddamn, bitch, you shoulda just stayed asleep and we woulda been in and outta here." He was black, young with a medium build, and he looked pretty pissed. But shit. Perhaps unwisely, I told him, "Why are you so pissed? you're the one breaking in on me!" He stepped towards me threateningly and I shrank back. Sam dropped in through the window. "Bitch has got a mouth on her," the first guy said. Sam said nothing. He was black too, older the the first guy and more burly-looking. He just stared at me, his eyes narrowed. Then he said, "Hold her here, I'll check the place out." He brushed by the younger man and passed out of the bedroom. The young man stared at me. Then, abruptly, he dropped the broom and his frown and smiled. Strange kind of smile, too, for the circumstances... it wasn't in the least threatening, rather friendly in fact. He moved to the bedside -- I instinctively moved to the other side of the bed -- and switched on the bedside lamp. Then he returned to the door and turned off the overhead. He turned and smiled at me. "I hate overheads," he said apologetically. He smiled again. "What's your name, bitch?" In spite of the pejorative, he still sounded friendly. But I couldn't help pointing out the paradox with my answer. "Bette; what's yours, prick?" I said ironically. He laughed. "I'm Tom, bitch." Sam came in. "Nothing. Old computer, crappy TV. Some case you did of this place." Tom shrugged. Sam stared at him, then glanced at me. He snorted and looked back at Tom. "Okay. Sure. Might as well get something out of this." The atmosphere suddenly changed. What did he mean? The answer came from deep inside me -- it could be only one thing. Tom look questioningly at Sam, and Sam said, "Sure, little brother. You first." Tom's smile grew wider. He directed it at me. And I felt a creeping horror grow in me. He approached the bed again, and this time snagged the blankets. I held them tightly, but he tugged them roughly away and threw them on the floor. "Mmmm-hmmm," he murmured, looking me over as I tried to cover myself with my hands. "You look fine, Bette, very fine. Very fine." He sat down on the bed, his body angled so he could face me. Sam cocked his head to one side, then turned to leave the room. "It's all right, Bette," Tom said softly. "You look very nice... very welcoming. Hospitable." He chuckled lightly. Sam came back in with a folding chair from the kitchen. He set it up against the wall and sat down, his arms folded. "Tell me, Bette," Tom said. "You ever had a nigger cock up inside you?" He looked at me earnestly. "No?" He smiled, shook his head. "I'll tell you something. I never fucked a white bitch before." He gestured at Sam. "Sam has, but he's being nice to his little brother tonight, letting me have first go at you. Ain't that nice of him? But you, Bette -- you twice as lucky. I get to fuck *one* white pussy, but you get to get it from *two* nigger cocks. Two. Don't come better than that." He kept talking as he began to unbutton his shirt. "Now, Sam, he's got a pretty big cock, just like all you white bitches imagine. Mine, it's not quite as big, but it knows what to do when it's hard, it knows how to make the bitches moan." He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. "It's hard now, bitch, just thinkin' about how tight you gonna be. How you gonna beg it to pump into your hot juicy pussy." I was speechless, scared, trying to pull away from him... gauging my chances at doing an end-run around him, around Sam, into the bathroom with nothing to block it closed. No way. I was caught. I felt like a deer in the headlights. His voice kept on, soft, mesmerizing, saying those words. "Gonna shove it into you, bitch, make you beg for me to fuck you hard and deep, just like I know you white bitches like it. Gonna fuck you like a whore, woman. Gonna fuck you like a whore, cuz you are one, aren't you? Just been waiting for a nigger buck like me to come 'long and spread your legs, haven't you, Bette?" He stood up and let his trousers drop. His cock stood out from him, stiff and virile. I stared at it... realized I was -- But before I could complete my realization, he completed it for me. He reached forward, dipped his black finger between my legs, and drew it up, sniffing. He smiled, showed it to me. "Like I said, bitch. You a whore. Wet like a whore, gonna get fucked like one. Gonna stick it to you, shoot my hot nigger jism up inside you, use you like my own white bitch. First me, then Sam. Then maybe both of us. How'd you like that?" He'd kicked his shoes off and shimmied his jeans down; now he stepped out of them, sat a moment to peel off his socks, and stood up again. He walked around the bed, magnificently erect -- yes, those were the words that came into my head, and I knew he was right, I was wet and excited and wanted it, wanted that stiff prick impaling me -- magnificently erect on his fine black muscular body that was about to take control of me, possess me, use me like a whore. But still, instinctively, I fought him when he bent over me. I closed my legs to him, tried to keep him out, knowing that he'd force me. He laughed, trying to pry my legs apart, his cock bobbing in front of him, eager to take me. I struck out at him, he caught my hand and held my wrist tightly, laughed again. "Want it rough, bitch? Tha's okay, some bitches like it like that." And he laughed and called to his brother, "Yeah, Sam, you're right, this white whore is why I wanted to burgle this place... I don't think you'll be too unhappy about that when your turn comes." He lowered himself on me. I felt his weight, felt his stiff prick against my belly, his knee as he tried to force my legs apart. "I bet when I get those legs open, you gonna have a nice pink slit, pink and wet. Pink Bette, tha's what I'll call you when I tell the boys I got a whore for them to fuck. Hungry pink cunt, hungry for nigger cock, hungry like a whore." And then took hold of my hair and held my head still. He looked down into my eyes, his own eyes laughing, and slapped me. I gasped. He laughed, and he jammed his knee between my legs and jimmied them apart. He reached down and I felt his thumb running between my labia, feeling how wet I was. He brought it up and stuck it under my nose, forcing me to smell it. "White whore," he said mildly, looking into my eyes. And I couldn't deny it. He reached down to guide himself into me. I felt his cockhead enter, go in a little further, and I admit it, I admit it, I pushed up with my hips, wanting to take all of him into me, wanting him to possess me with it. He stared into my eyes, and then his face got hard, as hard as his stiff nigger prick, and with a vicious powerful thrust he jacknifed himself into me. "ahhhhh!" I groaned. "Oh god, Sam," he said. "This bitch is tight." He pulled back and thrust into me again. "Hot inside, hot and tight... she fits around my cock like a glove." Out, in. "I think we gonna make more from this whore than if she had some real stuff to rip off," he told his brother, thrusting into me again, "she's so hot and fine, I'm her first nigger cock, but I think she can't wait for more --" and he pulled out, jackhammered into me again -- "if she's this tight on my cock, think of how it'll feel for you, bro?" -- he pulled back, fucked into me again. His commentary turned me on, telling his brother like that what it was like to fuck me, as though I my mind wasn't there, I was just there to be used. Then he stopped, his cock deep in me. I groaned. He looked down at me, breathing hard, but smiling. I groaned again, tried to pull him into me. He didn't move, just lay there, pinning me down, smiling. Laughing. I couldn't understand. He virile tool was hard, stiff in me. I knew he wanted to fuck me hard, to come inside me, to paint the inside of my hot wet cunt with his nigger jism, but he just lay there while I groaned. And then, a moment before he said it, I knew what he wanted. His words only confirmed it. "C;mon, bitch. Tell me what you want." I glared at him angrily, but he only laughed. "C'mon, bitch. I want to hear it." And I admit it -- I did. "Please," I said, but that wasn't good enough, so I said, "please, fuck me," and that wasn't good enough either, so I said, "please, please, I'm begging you Tom, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me with your stiff nigger prick, fuck me hard, hard, please, please" until the desparation in my voice was so obvious that he began again, pulling his cock almost out of me, then fucking it into me again, fucking me deep and hard, and I spread my legs as wide as I could to take him into me deeper. He grunted on top of me, and I felt his brother's eyes on us as machinelike he pistoned in and out of me, all the time calling me a whore, a bitch, a white fuckhole who he now owned by virtue of how he possessed me now with his fucktool. "I own you now, bitch. Don't I," he said, thrusting viciously into me. "Don't I." "Yes," I gasped, "yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me." "Tell me, bitch," he commanded. "Tell me who your master is." "Yes, yes," I gasped, and then I heard what he wanted me to say, and I said, "Yes, yes, you're my master, you own me --" -- and he came inside me, his nigger cum shooting up inside my cunt hot like lava from volcano, sparking off my own orgasm. My whole body shuddered with the force of it, the force of him on me and in me, his command of me in just the brief time since he'd forced himself through my window and then between my legs. After a couple of minutes he smiled down at me, his eyes friendly again. "Good girl, Bette," he said. He pulled out of me. "Now your master says, spread 'em for master's brother." And Sam stood up, expressionless, his zipper already unzipped and his cock huge in his hand. -- Pink Bette -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+