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Subject: {ASSM} ...of all Possible Worlds Ch.29 by Rachael Ross (see ch.01 for story codes)
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...of all Possible Worlds
by T.S. Severe

Chapter 29


"...up, Dani. Wake up, baby."

I blinked in the darkness and realized Mr. Davis was talking to me,
stroking my shoulder to rouse me. We were parked at a motel and it was
still night and I felt so tired. My mouth was dry and I let him pull
me slowly from the car, putting his arm around my waist as he unlocked
the door to our room, which I was slow to realize was actually a
little cabin.

"Mmmm..." I laughed weakly. "The love shack."

"Here, get into bed." Mr. Davis told me. "It's late."

He didn't have to tell me twice and climbed under the cool sheets,
closed my eyes, and didn't wake up until I felt something warm and
hard pressing against my ass. It was late morning and Mr. Davis was
spooning with me, his chest to my back as we lay on our left sides,
his knees bent behind mine and his cock swollen in his boxers. He was
still sleeping and I was still wearing my shorts, but I felt it and
then realized I had my own erection, which was normal. I needed to
pee, but not terribly and I felt the soreness in my thighs as well.
The man had spanked me hard with his belt and I could still feel it,
just a little.

I'd liked it too, I had to admit as I lay there. I still liked it. I'd
had a Master again, just for that short time, while he beat me and
then immediately after, when Mr. Davis had fucked me. I'd been a slave
again. I had to examine myself and my feelings carefully, and
honestly. I was having a moment of clarity, I thought, and it
frightened me, but I was thinking it through. I liked what Mr. Davis
had done. As much as I liked the way Mr. Reiser spoiled me, I liked
the way my old math teacher had punished me. It was what I'd deserved
and needed and he'd whored me out too. A Master could do that though,
if he wanted, and a negra had to do it. I had to do it. And inside me,
in my heart and maybe even in my soul, I'd liked it. Not the strange
men using me so much, but my Master commanding me, that's what had
gotten me excited.

If Mr. Davis was like that all the time, I realized, I probably
wouldn't want to go back to Mr. Reiser. Well, I would want to go back,
I always would because I loved my old Master, but I wouldn't fight it
so much, would I? I was confused by those thoughts, it was where my
understanding got fuzzy and lost and I sighed softly, not knowing what
I was thinking then. I loved Mr. Reiser, he'd treated me like a woman,
like a wife really, not a slave at all. Did I resent that generosity?

It felt like there was something missing when I remembered my old
Master. I'd been with him nearly two years and the man hadn't punished
me once, not physically anyway. He'd teased me emotionally, let Mercy
take a strap to me once in awhile, but he hadn't laid a finger on me
except gently, except to love me. Mr. Davis loved me too, I knew that,
but in a much more selfish way. He loved me as a man loves a
possession, not another person, and for all his talk about setting me
free and being my husband, Mr. Davis was always going to be a white
man. I was always going to be black.

He'd try to pretend otherwise though. I could see it clearly and
neither of us would be happy with that charade. It wasn't his stealing
me I objected to, it was his confusion. The way he was lying to
himself, and to me. It was like how he was queer for my girl cock, but
he couldn't admit it, not until the need was raging all through him.
The same thing with being my Master. He wouldn't allow himself to own
me except when I pushed him, when I made him angry enough to remember
who we really were and he could forget his romantic notions for a
little bit. I'd never be happy with a man like that.

"Winslow Sheriff's Department." A woman's voice said through the
phone.

I was standing in the office of the Starshine Motel just a few miles
outside the town of Winslow, Arizona. A pimply faced white boy, maybe
eighteen years old, was leaning on his counter, looking me up and down
with undisguised interest. I hadn't changed my clothes, or even
brushed my hair. I'd just snuck out of bed and used the toilet, washed
my face and brushed my teeth, and slipped out of the cabin. I was
wearing my tight white t-shirt, my pink short shorts, some lace
panties underneath, soiled with Mr. Davis' sperm, and a pair of
leather sandals. My purse was over my shoulder, with some makeup, a
couple condoms, and my hairbrush in it. I had a thin wallet in there,
with some stuff in it; my driver's license, some pictures and about
thirteen dollars, and that was everything I owned.

"I want to report myself stolen." I said softly and my heart was
beating fast, because I didn't know what was going to happen now.

It took about fifteen minutes for a brown and white sheriff's car to
show up and there was another one about a minute behind, coming from
the other direction. I was busy by then, answering questions for a big
white man in a brown uniform, tall and heavyset with a big belly. He'd
come by himself, but there were two deputies in the other car. Younger
men and a little more fit, standing close while the first officer
questioned me. They didn't have a scanner apparently, so he was asking
the sorts of things that a computer would have told him in about two
seconds. He wasn't asking me if I was a girl or not though, he figured
he knew that already and I didn't correct his assumption.

"...and your legal owner is a man named Reiser? How do you spell that?"
The fat deputy was writing it all down while we sat on the cheap
furniture in the lobby. "Bobby, Kyle, you boys go roust this Mr. uh..."
he looked at his notepad, "...Davis, see what he's got to say about all
this."

"...Stole you after school, huh? He's a teacher? Okay....Memphis,
Tennessee, right, I got that..." The deputy was nodding and making me
repeat myself.

It didn't take all that long, not like it seemed at the time, before
the big deputy was leading me out to his police cruiser. I was getting
into the backseat when I saw Mr. Davis standing outside the cabin he'd
rented, wearing just a pair of pants now, and talking with the other
two deputies. He looked at me across a dozen yards of gravel in that
hot Arizona sun and he didn't look very happy at all, not mad either,
but just sad. It made me feel bad for him, since he was going to be in
a lot of trouble now, but that was his own fault. He shouldn't have
stolen something that didn't belong to him, not even for love.

The town of Winslow wasn't overly large and the Sheriff's Department
was a newer looking building, made of bricks and dark glass windows in
the front. There was a Confederate flag blowing high up on a flag pole
outside and what I guessed was the state flag right next to it and a
little lower. A few people were coming in and out and they gave me
some looks, white people of course, and I hadn't seen too many black
faces at all. Arizona wasn't a big slave owning state anyway, except
maybe down in Phoenix or something, where there were factories and
such where a nigger could be put to good use. A small town like
Winslow probably didn't have but a couple house niggers, maybe one or
two freeborn families, but I doubted it. I was probably pretty much
alone in that place.

There was a black girl inside though, a secretary it looked like,
smallish and quiet, typing at a small desk and she blinked at me, but
that was all. A deputy was behind the front counter, a white woman
about thirty years old maybe and talking on the phone. She'd been the
one I'd talked to on the telephone, I imagined. Behind her, aside from
the mousy black girl, there was an older man coming, tall and thin. He
was dressed like the deputies in brown, but he had a bigger badge and
looked like he was in charge. He had that feeling about him and he was
staring at me hard enough, so I swallowed thickly and dropped my eyes
quick.

"That the runaway negra?" He asked, pulling open a swinging gate, like
half a door next to the counter and the deputy was guiding me through
it.

"Yes sir." The deputy nodded.

"I didn't run away." I said, blinking at the sheriff. "I was stolen."

"Shut-up." The tall man frowned at me. "Prisoners don't talk unless I
ask 'em a question. Did you search her?"

"Uh, not yet, sheriff." The deputy admitted.

"Shit. Put her in the holding cell, strip her down." The sheriff
ordered and I jerked a little at that. "You oughta know better than
that, Mike."

"Well, she didn't look like she could be hiding much anyway." The fat
deputy grinned. "Come on, this way. Let's see what you're hiding."

He gave me a little push and I didn't like this. I wasn't a runaway
slave for one thing, I was stolen property. I hadn't expected to be
locked up in a cell, or strip searched neither, but that was what they
were intending to do apparently. I thought they'd just scan my arm,
call the police in Memphis maybe, or even Mr. Reiser, give my old
Master the good news that I'd been found. They'd send me back home and
everything would go back to being like it was. I wasn't getting good
feelings though, not from the looks that sheriff was giving me, nor
his fat deputy.

"Up against the wall, right there...Hands flat...Spread your legs..."

The deputy, Mike, was pushing and pulling at me in the small holding
cell. There wasn't anything in it but cinderblock walls painted ugly
yellow and they were cold under my fingers. He was frisking me first
and then I understood that he'd undress me later. I felt my heart
thumping because so far as Mike knew, I was just a very pretty negra
with nothing but a hole between my long brown legs.

"Let's see now..." He sighed almost happily as I felt his chubby fingers
in my hair, digging through it like I might be hiding something there.

He moved down to my shoulders and his hands moved slowly along my ribs
and down my sides. I was holding my breath and frightened, excited
too, I had to admit, because this had long been a scene inside my
head. One of those confused dreams that was both a pleasure to imagine
and terribly intimidating, being held at a police station and subject
to all the bad things I'd ever imagined could happen there. It was one
of the guilty fantasies we all have and never admit to. Like a woman
wanting to be raped, and she never wants it to happen, not really, she
just likes to think about it from time to time.

This was happening though. This was the reality of it and I closed my
eyes tight as I felt the deputy's big hands move around to my taut
belly, feeling my body through that thin cotton shirt I was wearing.
He lifted his hands slowly, as if he was teasing the both of us, and I
gasped as I felt him on my breasts. The deputy took both of them in
his hands, standing close behind me now with his big belly rubbing
against my pushed out ass. He was breathing heavily, squeezing my tits
and playing with them. He wasn't looking for anything, he was just
getting a real good feel and I felt my nipples harden beneath his
palms, and my girl cock was throbbing in my shorts.

There was nothing about the man I found attractive, nothing but his
uniform and his authority. That was what I found myself responding to
and the fact that Mike was big and fat and not attractive to me at
all, that was making it better in some strange way. I wouldn't give a
man like that the time of day, not unless my owner forced me to. I
wouldn't even notice him otherwise. He had my attention now though.
That man was doing whatever he wanted with me and I had to let him. I
shivered with that fear and excitement, the conflicting emotions that
filled my tummy with butterflies and I kept my eyes closed, my mouth
too, keeping the soft moans inside me while Mike squeezed my tits
harder.

"Goddamn, you're a fine negra." He breathed. "I'm gonna have a piece
of you later, yes I am."

After two or three minutes of playing with my breasts he moved his
hands down again, pulling me back against him as he kept one hand on
my stomach and the other sliding to my shorts. The deputy pressed his
hand over the snap and down the zipper and I was hard by then, very
hard, and my girl cock was pressed down in my panties almost
painfully, the head of my penis nestled between my thighs. He went a
few more inches and he felt it, although he wasn't exactly sure right
off what it was. There was a lump in my shorts though, something hard
and rounded and firm beneath the pink denim.

"Ohhh...What have we got down here?" He chuckled. "Hiding your owner's
stash?"

"N-No." I answered, taking a breath and shaking my head slightly.

"Some drugs, I bet, huh?" He brought his left hand down then,
unsnapping my shorts and unzipping them slowly. "You're going to be in
real trouble now."

"I...I don't have any..." I started saying, stiffening as I knew the truth
was upon us.

"Uhhh..." I felt his fingers sliding inside the waistband of my panties
and then his fingertips brushed my swollen girl cock, lightly at first
and he recoiled with some confusion before shoving his hand all the
way inside my panties and suddenly finding a fistful of small hard
penis.

"What the fuck?" The deputy pulled his hand out of my panties like
he'd been burned, letting me go completely and stepping back.

I didn't move at all. I was shaking with fear and my body felt warm
all over, flushed with the heat of the deputy's discovery. My shorts
were down around my thighs, halfway to my knees and stuck there as my
legs were spread wide. My lacy white panties were pulled tight and
slightly askew, the left side of the back pulled into the deep crack
of my ass, exposing my firm round butt cheek completely. In the front
my penis had come free, the head and a few inches beside were sticking
out through the leg band, pointing to the right.

"You're a boy!" The deputy said and I didn't have to look to know he
was wearing a shocked expression on his big round face. Mike's voice
said it all.

"Um...Sort of..." I said softly and it was hard just getting those little
words out of my burning lungs.

"Get out of those clothes." The deputy said. "All of 'em, right now.
Take 'em off!"

He sounded like he was ready to draw his gun. Seriously, that deputy
sounded scared and I did as he told me, moving slowly and not turning
around at all. I undressed facing the wall, taking off my shorts and
panties first, tossing them lightly to the floor near me, and then
pulling my t-shirt over my head, wriggling slightly as it was a tight
fit. I didn't bother folding it or anything, I just tossed it on the
little pile and stood there naked, breathless and scared, and feeling
the sexual energy inside me like I was on some sort of drug. This was
my fantasy come to life and I was helpless beneath it.

"Now...You turn yourself around, real slow...Just...Turn around..." The deputy
breathed and he'd backed up halfway across the small room.

I did as he told me, turning slowly and letting him see my beautiful
black body, perfectly formed as a seventeen year old girl everywhere,
except between my thighs. My balls were loose in my shaved scrotum,
hanging down the way Mr. Reiser and especially Miss Corinne had always
liked them. My girl cock was stiff, standing straight out and up from
my body, dark with excitement and the wrinkled foreskin had pulled
back slightly from the swollen pinkish glans, just enough to expose
the wet tip. I was leaking precum, the clear moisture glistening as it
dripped slowly to run down the bottom of my penis.

"Fuck me." The fat man blinked rapidly and he stared for a long few
seconds before going to the door. "Don't you fuckin' move."

"Sheriff! Lyle...Come here quick!" The deputy was shouting. "Sheriff!"

Every now and then Mike would glance over his shoulder, as if to make
sure I was still there, or at least that I was still a boy.

"The hell's the matter now, Mike?" I heard the sheriff's voice getting
closer.

"Lyle, you gotta see this...Shit!" The deputy said excitedly.

"See what? You find something?" The sheriff asked and then he was
coming into the holding cell, taking two and then three steps before
he stopped in his tracks and stared at me.

"I found something alright." The deputy laughed, but it wasn't a happy
sound. "Goddamn, you ever seen that before, sheriff?"

"Shit." The sheriff narrowed his eyes and then grinned. "Got ourselves
a little nigger, huh?"

"A little faggot nigger." The deputy nodded. "Jesus."

"Relax, Mike." The sheriff laughed and clapped his deputy on the
shoulder. "He ain't gonna bite you. A boy like that's only meant for
one thing..."

"What?" The deputy frowned.

"...fucking." The sheriff snorted. "You're a bedroom negra, huh? Your
owner likes girly boys?"

"Y-Yes sir." I swallowed hard and my voice was just a whisper as I
kept my eyes down.

"Cuff her, Mike." The sheriff was nodding.

"Sheriff?" The deputy glanced at the other man like he hadn't heard
him right.

"I said cuff the bitch, go on." The sheriff said again and my heart
lurched. "A bedroom negra like this don't come cheap, you can bet your
back teeth on that."

"Yes sir." Mike agreed, but he wasn't clear on what his boss was
talking about.

The deputy moved slowly, but deliberately, taking me roughly by the
arm and turning me around again. I groaned, but I wasn't going to
resist, even as his pudgy fingers dug painfully into my soft bicep. He
pulled my hands back, putting stainless steel handcuffs around my
wrists with a loud ratcheting sound that filled my belly with such an
intense confusion that I thought for a second I was going to be sick.
My legs were weak and rubbery and it was all I could do to stand there
and take short, quick breaths into my heaving breast.

"Yeah, good...That's it..." The sheriff agreed softly. "Hold this for me."

I glanced over my shoulder to see that the sheriff had removed his big
black utility belt, laden with his gun and flashlight and handcuffs.
He was giving it to the deputy and unzipping his uniform trousers and
I rocked on my feet as I realized the man was going to fuck me. I
closed my eyes just as the sheriff's strong hands pushed on my
shoulders, bending me over so my forehead almost slammed into the
wall, but I had sense enough to jerk my body back, as best I could,
and that instinct saved me from a real headache.

"Sheriff?" The deputy sounded surprised, maybe even shocked as the
other man brought his hard cock to my exposed anus.

"This is what a...Ugh!" The sheriff grabbed the short length of chain
between my locked wrists, just a few inches worth, and used it to pull
me back hard as he pushed forward with his hips.

"Ohhh!" I gasped loudly when I felt his swollen cockhead forcing my
sphincter rudely open with just a small flash of pain.

"...bedroom negra is good for!" The sheriff finished his thought,
pausing as he had the head of his penis and another inch or two
besides lodged into the tight warm confines of my eager rectum.

I felt some discomfort in my shoulders and arms, a bit of pain as the
sheriff was using the handcuffs to hold me and pull me back against
him. He wanted me to do the fucking and I was losing my fear, finding
the situation almost intoxicating now. I was chained and naked in a
jail cell, being raped by the sheriff and helpless to do anything
about it. It was like a key that fit a particular lock inside my
feverish mind and I pushed myself back willingly, rolling my ass and
rocking my hips, fucking myself upon the man while he stood there. The
sheriff wasn't moving at all, but just holding the short chain like it
was the reins of horse.

"Yeah, this negra knows how to fuck." The sheriff breathed with
satisfaction and I was soon impaled completely on his cock.

"Jesus, Lyle...But that's a boy..." The deputy protested.

"This ain't no boy, Mike." The sheriff decided. "This here is a hot
piece of negra ass pussy. Shoot, feels so good I can't tell the
difference!"

The sheriff was chuckling and jerking on my handcuff's, urging me to
fuck him properly and I had little need of that encouragement. I was
desperate for it now, letting everything else go but the stark
realization of my deepest, darkest fantasy. I was pulling off that
cock slowly, feeling the thick white shaft sliding out of my ass until
just the head remained inside me, and then I'd push myself back. I was
getting off on the way my asshole was stretched around him, the man's
cock filling me completely and the sheriff was a good sized fit. He
was bigger than Mr. Davis had been, that was for sure, and I was
riding that prick like the bedroom negra I was.

I shoved my ass back harder as my muscles relaxed and my horny fuck
hole grew wet and slippery with the man's precum. He was lubing me up
nicely and that just made it better. I would push against him until I
felt the sheriff's soft cotton uniform against my soft skin, and then
I'd grind for a moment, working my ass around so I could feel that
cock all over inside me. The big smooth head of his prick would find
the smallish pillow of my prostate and caress me there, making me moan
softly and shiver with pleasure.

My body was hot all over and I grew damp with sweat, my heavy tits
hanging down as I was bent over, their weight tugging at my skin which
was a sensation I'd always enjoyed. They were swaying beneath me while
I moved, like my cum filled balls, hanging low beneath our union. They
moved to and fro, and my girl cock was bouncing around, jerking every
now and again as my orgasm approached. I was going to cum soon, like I
did sometimes when it was really good, without touching my penis at
all, but just from being fucked nicely. It was when I felt most like a
girl, when those butterflies burned in my belly and my nipples ached
with the cold fire of my ecstasy. I was going to orgasm like a real
girl, from having my boy pussy fucked by a real man.

"That's enough, suck it for awhile." The sheriff said, as if he could
sense my pleasure and wanted to deny me the climax that I needed.

He stepped back, pulling his long hard cock free of my asshole and I
turned around quickly, spinning and dropping to my knees. I couldn't
deny him anything, even if I wanted to, and that was the best part,
being forced and helpless. I was hungry for it though and the sheriff
knew it. The deputy knew it now too as I moved my head, catching the
sheriff's ruddy cock in my open mouth and letting out a muffled moan
of lusty delight. I took that swollen penis into my mouth and it was
wet and acrid, almost bitter with the flavor of my ass, but I loved
that taste. I opened my throat for him and pushed my face against the
sheriff's uniform.

"Ohhh fuck!" The man chuckled and he had his hands on my head now,
leaning forward with his pelvis as if he could feed me more of his
turgid cock.

I held him in my throat for a long moment, until my lungs rebelled
with the need for air, and then I back off, keeping the head in my
mouth while I breathed deeply through my nose. I tickled the underside
of the sheriff's cock and then washed it all over, working my tongue
around the head and then the shaft as I bobbed my head slowly. I
sucked half of him like that for almost a minute probably, feeling my
lips stretched thin and tight around the soft skin of the man's penis,
and then I took him once more into my throat.

"Shit, this negra knows how to suck a dick!" The sheriff told his
deputy and I was trying to swallow the man, my tight throat muscles
rippling around his long penis.

My own girlish cock was aching painfully by then and I was shaking
with the frustrated need for release. I moved my body, my hips and ass
just to feel my penis move, but I wanted a touch, just a little
pressure down there to set me off. These men weren't going to do that
though and so I was forced to satisfy myself with working the cock in
my mouth, sucking it with every ounce of passion I had so that the man
would cum for me. I wanted to feel his cock erupting in my mouth and
shooting thick man cream into my tummy. I was starving for it and I
worked my soft lips up and down, keeping them tight while my tongue
moved around the smooth cockhead as it slid back and forth in my
mouth.

"Here it comes, bitch...Eat my cock now, you little whore...Ummm Yes!" The
sheriff groaned, holding my head tightly with his hands and I felt the
first heavy spurt of his climax fill my mouth.

I swallowed quickly, savoring the salty flavor and thin, gluey texture
of his viscous load. His balls were pumping hard and fast, the sheriff
growling with his satisfied approval. I was eating him, feeling his
sperm sliding down my throat to settle at the bottom of my empty
stomach. My own penis was ready to loose its own creamy ejaculate and
I shuddered as it finally happened, that distinctly female sensation
of cumming without any real stimulation to my sex at all. It was just
the pleasure of being filled with a man's sperm. Of knowing that I'd
made him cum with desire for me. It was the most satisfying thing in
the world for me and I made muffled moaning sounds of agreement as the
sheriff told me how good it was for him.

"Good girl, good little negra." The sheriff grinned at me, pulling his
semi-hard penis free of my still sucking lips with a loud wet plopping
sound.

"Jesus, Lyle." The deputy chuckled nervously. "I think she came too...I
mean he did...Fuck."

"Have her lick it up." The sheriff laughed, tucking his cock back into
his trousers and zipping up. "After you get yourself some."

"W-What? Sheriff, I don't think I want..." The deputy blinked rapidly.

"What?" The sheriff asked, taking back his belt while I knelt there,
licking my lips and swallowing the remains of his semen.

"I mean that's a nigger, I can't..." Mike protested weakly.

"She's a cocksucking bedroom negra and that's all she is, Mike." The
sheriff looked sharply at his younger deputy. "Getting your dick
sucked don't make you queer."

"Yeah, but..." The deputy wasn't too sure about that maybe.

"Go on, when's the last time you got a blowjob anyway?" The sheriff
laughed. "Wash her up after your done and bring her to my office. I'm
gonna go talk to that fella she ran away with."

"Okay, uh, sheriff." Mike cleared his throat and I didn't know what he
was going to do with me. He was one of those men who are real
homophobic and plainly uncomfortable even being in the same room with
me.

The sheriff left us, closing the heavy steel door behind him with a
loud clunk and click and I glanced up at the deputy, feeling my fear
coming back now that I'd had my orgasm.

"I don't want your fag lips on my dick." The deputy decided. "Get your
tongue down there, lick up that mess you made on the floor."

I nodded silently and crawled back a bit on my knees, lowering my face
to the small pools of sperm I'd created when I'd cum. I extended my
tongue and lapped at the cold cement floor slowly, gathering my still
warm ejaculate and swallowing it while the deputy watched with a
somewhat disgusted and disbelieving look on his face. I wasn't sure
what was going to happen to me after I'd cleaned up my mess, but I
hoped they'd call Mr. Reiser and maybe even let me talk to my Master.

I'd had my fantasy now and I was ready to go back home.


End of chapter 29
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm
T.S.Severe@gmail.com

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