0 comments/ 15505 views/ 1 favorites Strange Days: Rewind By: Never-more Carl Jenkins was a powerful man—and he knew it. As the CEO of one of America's biggest telecommunications companies, Jenkins had money, status, influence, and control over the lives of thousands of employees who depended on his intelligence and charisma to keep bread on their table. He also had access to the finest things that money could buy—expensive toys, beautiful women, the finest clubs and restaurants, a gorgeous home, and, according to everyone who knew him, a "perfect" family. His lovely socialite wife was the envy of every man in town, his oldest son was a BMOC at his own alma mater, Princeton, and his young daughter was well on her way to being the valedictorian of her expensive private academy in downtown Manhattan. Yet somehow, it wasn't enough. Carl was unsatisfied, and worse than that, he was bored. What's left to do or buy once you've done and bought everything? But this was before he met Lenny. Lenny, the "magic man," who offered him something he didn't have, something he couldn't buy...until now. He first met Lenny at one of his favorite clubs; or rather, lingering outside the back door of the club, where only the VIP guests were allowed to enter or leave. At first, Carl thought he was just some lousy pimp or dealer, looking for wealthy targets for whatever scam or "product" he had to offer. Carl had seen them before—well-dressed hustlers who preyed on the boredom and idle curiosity of men like him. He'd never paid them any mind—he was too important, and too satisfied with himself, to need the services of such low-lifes. But tonight was different. Tonight his boredom had reached a fever pitch; so much so that even the flashy nightlife, the expensive entertainments, and the willing companionship of a much younger woman (one of his own executive's nineteen year-old daughters!), couldn't take the edge off of his restlessness. He'd pawned her off on one of his cronies (much to her chagrin), and left the club disgusted with his own indifference, anxious to find something more...stimulating. So when Lenny approached him, and began talking in that rapid-fire, yet hypnotic voice of his, Carl didn't immediately shrug him off, or tell him to go to hell, as he usually would. He hesitated, he paused, he listened—just for a moment...a moment that would change his life forever. Lenny told him about "the latest thing," the newest experience, one that only those with the right "resources" and "connections" could enjoy...one that Lenny could provide. This got Carl's attention. Wasn't he a man of resources and connections? Wasn't he someone who enjoyed (and deserved) the most exclusive pleasures? What could there be, in the pockets of this two-bit tramp, that he couldn't have? He listened as Lenny told him about "clips," about "jacking in," about the unbelievable possibilities of cerebro-cortical stimulation that could allow you to experience anything and everything imaginable—even things that you couldn't safely experience in your "real" life. Recordings from other people's brains, their own experiences pumped directly into your cerebral cortex, so that you could be there, seeing the sights, feeling the feelings, performing the deeds, without ever leaving your bedroom. All you needed was a player, a clip, and the cash—the first two, Lenny could provide, the last...well, what did Carl have if not money? It was tempting—damn tempting. He'd heard about such technology from his R&D people—government stuff, highly restricted, but like most things, available for a price. He'd seen the entertainment potential, but hadn't really had time to explore it—not until now, at least. So, he was intrigued. But it might not have been enough, if Lenny hadn't noticed one thing. Lenny knew that Carl was a man who indulged himself, who saw what he wanted and took it. There were very few "experiences" that Carl couldn't obtain on his own, without the help of technology, much less the services of a man like him. But there were a few things—things that Carl couldn't, or wouldn't, go out and get on his own—things that might have been dangerous for a man of his status and profile to indulge in—risky things, illegal things, "immoral" things. This is what Lenny, and only Lenny, could provide for him, and he knew it. Lenny took his time, guided him through the paths of his own imagination, his own desires, his most hidden fantasies—hinting, encouraging, affirming the fleeting images and taboo thoughts that floated through his brain. It was too much for Carl. He couldn't hide his own curiosity, his own excitement at the thought of actually doing those forbidden things that he'd only fantasized about: beating another man senseless for the pure pleasure of it, taking one of those uptight bitches that he met at his wife's social gatherings by force, fucking some tiny white slut with a huge black cock, as he'd seen in magazines and videos all his life. He could actually DO it! And Lenny could help him. The deal was made, the money exchanged, and a small "starter" clip was left in his possession, while Lenny went off to procure his "special order," to be provided at their next meeting. Now Carl sat alone in the back of his limo, clip in hand, his adrenaline pumping with sheer excitement and anticipation. His hand actually shook as he examined the label on the outside of the clip: "Marisa and Black Tom." Lenny had promised that he'd be VERY happy with the trial, and even promised him a free clip next time if he didn't completely enjoy himself. He could only imagine what he was going to do to "Marisa" tonight...but, of course, he didn't have to imagine it—it was right here in his lap, ready to go! Carl leaned forward and told his driver to cruise around the park for a while, until he was done with an important "phone call." Then he rolled up the dark window that separated his compartment from the driver's, and eased himself back into the comfortable accommodations. Following the instructions that Lenny had given him, he placed the mesh helmet over his head, connected it to the player beside him, and popped in the clip. Then he took a deep breath and closed his eyes while fingering the "play" button...with a quick tap, the player snapped on and Carl jerked back in his seat as his mind spun out of itself.... Strange Days: Rewind When his vision started to clear, he saw Black Tom standing over him, one ankle clutched in each giant fist, and a wicked grin on his face. "You like that, bitch?...I said, did you like it, slut?"...Goddamn you... "Y-y-yes, black daddy...I loved it..." "Good...'cause now it's my turn!"...What?... "W-what?...But I already..." Tom kept grinning, but now a thick string of drool and girl-cum dripped from one corner of his mouth. My turn..."Oh...no!" No! Suddenly, Tom shifted his grip, switched her ankles around and twisted hard, flipping little Marisa all the way over onto her belly faster than she could squeal. "Eee!...Oof!" Knowing what was about to happen, both Marisa and Carl began to panic. No! No fucking way is this big nigger gonna fuck me! He's too big! He's too..."Please...please daddy...I can't..." Marisa began to scramble forward on the bed, clutching at the sheets for traction. But it was no use...Tom yanked back on her ankles and pulled her tight round ass almost to the edge of the bed. "Jes' set still little girl...Tom's gonna give you what you really need!" Tom placed one big paw on Marisa's lower back and pushed down, securing her to the bed. Then, standing between her thrashing legs, he parted her ass cheeks with his other hand. Carl heard him gather a large gob of spit in the back of his throat and then felt the slimy saliva and mucous splatter against Marisa's tiny brown hole that puckered and tightened in response. Oh Jesus, he thought, he's really gonna do it! He's gonna fuck her stupid! That was, after all, what Carl had specified in his description to Lenny—a little white girl getting her ass reamed by a big black bull—he just never imagined he'd have to feel that monster tearing through his own twitching sphincter! Marisa was now breathing heavily, and Carl could feel her heart pounding with terror and...and what?...maybe just a little bit...of excitement? No. She couldn't really be wanting this...her fear was real, he could sense that. But there was something else...a sick delight of some kind...not about getting her ass slammed...that was going to hurt...but what? This will show him! Who's thought was that?! Was it mine, Carl wondered, or hers? Show who? "You ready to scream, baby-girl? You ready to show daddy how you like it—hard and nasty from a nigga?" Tom didn't wait for his answer—instead he just held Marisa's hips down with both hands, used his thumbs to prie her pretty little ass-cheeks apart, and held her knees wide apart with his own. Then Carl felt a large, fleshy pressure against Marisa's anus. "You better relax, baby...you know I'm comin' in either way," Tom warned. Not on your fucking... "Aah!" Marisa grunted, as Tom began to force his way in, "Oh, please!...wait...Ungh!" Tom's massive cock-head began to force her small opening to widen and give. "Let me in, bitch! Let me in!" Tom grabbed the back of Marisa's hair and gave it a hard yank, pulling her head almost all the way back. Her mouth formed an O and her tongue thrashed as Tom laid his full weight into her. Carl was screeching wildly inside her head, begging for it to stop, but he had absolutely no control. He was a helpless phantom inside Tom's little meat-puppet. Mercifully, Marisa managed to release her hold on her sphincter before Tom literally tore it in half! As she relaxed the muscles, Carl felt Tom's hard member slide into her bowels with a burning fullness—as if the largest turd he'd ever shat was suddenly going in reverse! Marisa screamed, but part of her took a mad delight in her own pain and discomfort. She yelled, "Yes! Yes, Daddy! Do it! Give it to me!" What kind of sick little twat was this? Once he'd broken through the barrier of her anus, Tom began to buck and grind against her from behind, his hips slapping against Marisa's firm, fleshy ass. Pap-pap-pap! "Oh yeah, baby...take that big meat...take Tom's spunk up inside you...that's what you wanted..." Marisa's eyes had watered up from the searing pain, but also from the hysterical laughter that now burst from her mouth. "Ah-ha-ha! Yes! Harder! Do me harder! Let him feel it!" Him? What the fuck is she...? "How do you like it asshole? How do you like taking it like a bitch?" It was Marisa's voice, but what the hell was she saying? And to who? Suddenly Tom jerked her head to one side, towards the closet doors across from the bed. They had long upright mirrors attached that reflected the whole perverse scene that was transpiring on the bed, just a couple of feet away. Carl first noticed the giant black mass that was bucking and ramming against the blurred image of a pale thrashing wraith of a girl. Then he focused in on the girl herself—long, thin white body, small perky tits, thick wavy auburn hair...and her face...lovely, innocent, familiar...No...oh, no..it can't be! The pretty face smiled wickedly at him in the mirror, licked it's soft pink lips, and gazed at him with sparkling green eyes. "Happy Birthday, Daddy! You evil fuck!" she said, "Hope you enjoy yourself with Tom...I know I am!...Harder, Blackdaddy, harder!" When the driver finally managed to get the back door open, what he saw there was an image that would brand itself in his mind forever: Carl Jenkins, the wealthiest and arguably most powerful man in the city, hunched up on his knees in the back seat, pants wrapped around his ankles, white hairy ass in the air...he was plunging the thick shaft of a champagne bottle in and out of his asshole, grunting and squealing like a sick pig... "Harder, harder...!" Lenny smiled as Carl Jenkins drove away, knowing he'd done his good deed for the month, if not the year. He'd have to lay low for a while to avoid Carl's goons, if, in fact, the bastard ever came out of his electronically induced fantasy. Some never did. But he'd only set this one to run for a few hours, so Carl should only have to get slammed five or six times by Tom tonight. Unless, of course, he enjoyed it! Not unheard of either. Either way, a bastard got what he deserved, and one little girl would be very thankful...