3 comments/ 221922 views/ 31 favorites Fantasy Out Of Control Ch. 01 By: Spectator1 Author's Note: This is purely a work of fiction based on the Interracial theme. Past experience has taught me that many don't understand this category, especially the inner struggles of a cuckold husband. The struggle is this: The husband wants his wife to be a slut for other men and he doesn't want his wife to be a slut for other men. That's the basis of almost every Interracial cuckold story. The writer Shooter explains it very well in some of his submissions. Thanks -- and remember it's a story. Chapter 1 The birth of a fantasy It was only a fantasy, really. And though it played a bit of a role in our fuck sessions, it was never something I expected, or even wanted to actually happen. I'd make an offhand comment while we were fucking about how she'd feel with a hard Black cock in her. Initially she didn't respond or make any comment. She knew the thought got me off. Gradually over a few years I'd elaborate on Black guys fucking her and eventually would describe to her whole weekends of her being rammed in every hole by four or five Black cocks. "Just imagine you in a hotel room with five Black guys," I'd say. "You arrive Friday night and just fuck until I pick you up Monday. Five cocks using every hole, no condoms." This didn't at first bring much response, and I'd describe how each Black cock would stretch her out, pound mercilessly into her dripping pussy, and explode with cupfuls of cum that would fill her white body with millions of Black man's sperm. I'd describe how that one sperm would beat all odds and plunge into her vulnerable egg to start a Black baby inside her womb. But these descriptions of interracial sex must have been building up, because I did begin to notice that she was more responsive to these verbalizations of my fantasy, and the mere mention would immediately increase the flow of her juices and the heat of her pussy. I'd describe the hotel gangbangs in detail, and once asked her how many times she thought each guy would fuck her in the course of three nights. To my surprise she answered as she thrust her hips up and my cock slurped deep into her soaked cunt. "Eleven," she said seconds after I'd blown my cum into her. "You mean you'd be fucked 55 times over the weekend," I asked as her small white body lay exhausted from fucking. She was wet and hot, spread like a whore, and my cum ouzed out of her in big globs. She smiled coyly up at me and said I was good at math. This was great for me. Susan's horny as hell on a bad day, but with this increased stimulation she could get wild. But even then, I never expected anything more than talk. It got hotter and hotter over the next few weeks, and it was my wife bringing up the subject as our fuck sessions became more frequent and her animal rutting became more fevered. Soon the fantasy blossomed into full form with her spending weekends (and then weeks) in the 'hood' where her tiny white body was used by all manner of 'thugs,' 'gangsters,' 'gangbangers,' and other stereotypical versions of Black men. She would be their 'white ho bitch,' servicing entire Black gangs or whole Black neighbourhoods. I know it was over the top, but it was just a fantasy, and she too seemed to be really getting into it. There were scenes of her dressed like a slut being led into Black bars and pool halls where she'd be taken to back rooms, or spread out on pool tables for the enjoyment of all. Even in the daytime if we were driving through city streets she'd point out a bar and say something like: "What do you think? Maybe that's the place." We even stopped and had supper at one. We covertly looked around at all the Black guys, but it was nothing like the visions in my stories. It was just like any other bar with the exception that there were few white people. We were basically left alone, although I got a few scowls and Susan got a few appreciative stares. But I guess it sparked something in my wife. It was the point where fantasy and reality began to blend. From then on I guess it had become an inevitable downhill snowball. For instance, one day we went to rent a movie. She liked the gushy romances and that's what I expected she'd look at. And she did, and picked out one of those Pretty in Pink type movies. But we kept looking and it was she who suggested we go through the curtain to the 'adult' section. "You pick out one and I'll pick out one," she said. She had never been in such a place, and I think it was kind of overwhelming for her – all the covers with cocks, cunts, gaping asses, and cum-covered tits. But she started at one end and worked her way around. I went right to the interracial section and picked out something called "Interracial Creampie VI.' She eventually picked out a Blacks on Blonds compilation. The movies blew her mind – to say the least. We fucked during, between, after. She was wild and wet and her being so wild and wet just drove me to hard-on after hard-on. I think I came in her four times in three hours. And she seemed to be cuming constantly. Later that same night I burned both CDs and showed her how to download porn from the Internet. "You can get anything you want," I explained. "Interracial, gay, lesbian, dildo, machine, animal – you name it. Lots of incest, taboo, rape." Needless to say the computer was going 24 hours a day and disc after disc of interracial porn piled up beside the computer. Of course it was all basically the same, and Susan became so used to it that it just became her normal TV-watching fare. No more Oprah or Dr. Phil. Just 'Black Dicks in White Chicks,' or 'Monsters of Cock,' or "Dogfart.' And she was always wet and ready. In fact after work or on weekends she was now just wearing a short robe. "For easy access," I asked once. In reply her hand went down to her swollen pussy as her eyes were glued to a scene of a mammoth Black cock delivering a load of jism into the similarly swollen cunt of some small, blonde porn star. She moaned. "Right now anybody could have access," she replied. "Anybody at all." Her fingers were making a circular motion on her engorged clit, and pussy juice glistened from between her soaked lips. This was getting too good. She was begging for sex almost every night, and would pretty much fuck on demand. Then one night as we fucked (the TV screen showing close-ups of the most improbably large Black cock stuffing a petite white woman's cunt) she asked why I wasn't finding her these Black cocks. I brushed it off with a bit of a laugh. She stopped her thrusting. "No, I'm serious," she said, sweat glistening on her firm tits and stomach. "You've been talking about it for years. If you're serious, start looking." I was floored because she was dead serious. "Remember all your talk about me being Black-owned? And getting pregnant by Black men? Well, I've been waiting," she said, locking my eyes with an unflinching stare. I was too shocked to say anything. All those nights of fucking and I thought I was the one fantasizing. "Well, is it just talk," she asked. "Just a fantasy for you to get your rocks off? Maybe you really couldn't handle it." I knew what she was talking about. I had told her many times that if/when she started fucking Black cock on a regular basis, that eventually she would become the exclusive property of whoever the dominant Black bull was – Black owned. He, and his friends, would probably forbid her to have any more white cock. While it was just fantasy when I told it, I knew in my heart that if it ever did happen, that's exactly the way things would progress. And when she had asked me what I would do, I had always told her I would just have to jerk off. Now I was faced with that very real possibility. But even then I didn't think it would go that far. I took a chance. "You know I can handle it," I said bravely. "Remember the first time you sucked a guy off and swallowed? It was Dave, and I didn't get jealous even though you had never even sucked my cock at all. And when Mike taught you anal? And to this day I've never cum in your mouth or had my cock in your ass – and plenty of other guys have used both many, many times." "Yes, but you still get to use my pussy," she said. "If I start fucking Black guys, you wouldn't even get that." She was right, and I had a brief flash of my future sex life -- Susan spread wide and Black cock after Black cock stretching her out and depositing big loads of cum into her while I stood at the doorway, cock in hand, jerking off. "It's not that I wouldn't want your cock," she said. "It's just the way it would have to be. And if it went like you always said, I'd be fucking a Black guy, or two, or three, at least a couple of nights a week. Do you honestly think I'd even feel your cock in me?" I had to admit she was probably right. I could picture her lying there looking at her fingernails patiently waiting for me to cum. I was thinking of the consequences of this fantasy coming true and suddenly it was becoming less and less emotionally appealing though my cock was telling me exactly the opposite. I was rock hard inside her sopping wet cunt, and from the way she was gently moving her hips, I knew she knew. And of course my gaze just had to fall on her dresser where her birth control pills were nestled between a jewelry box and a vibrator. I knew those could eventually end up in the trash bin. It was part of the fantasy. She was 42 but completely capable of getting pregnant. Finally I looked down at her again. Our eyes locked. "You're serious," I asked. "You would really want me to start looking?" "It was your fantasy," she said evenly. "You told it so well, now it's mine. I guess it proves that you should be careful of what you wish for. And I want it now – not next month or next year." That basically settled it. I knew Susan, and there was no room for debate. And if it happened, there would be no halfway. With her it would be all or nothing. "I'll start looking," I said. I don't know if I said it reluctantly or enthusiastically. The next day we discussed it again, and I asked her to give me some idea of the types of Black men, their ages, personalities etc. "I don't care who they are," she said. "It has to be real. It's not like picking something out of a catalogue. It has to be spontaneous – from the hip, so to speak." Our friend Dave was a starting point. He'd been fucking my wife off and on for about five or six years. He knew lots of people and was online all the time. So we invited him over and during an evening of unbridled fucking I filled him in on my wife's wishes. As the interracial videos flitted across the screen, and he and Susan fucked in all manner of positions, I was aware that the fantasy/reality blend was into a new stage. She was on her hands and knees, Dave's large cock to the hilt in her ass, and his balls pumping his cum into her bowels. She screamed as his hot jism splashed into her bowels, but her eyes never left the TV. Later Dave got on our computer, called up his own MSN Messenger, and copied half a dozen of his contacts for me. "Don't contact them until I've had a chance to talk to them," he said. "I'll fill them in and tell them to expect contact in the next few days." I looked at their nicknames: Stallion, Shaft, Blackdog, Bull, AmanCalledHorse, and Eugene. Susan looked at them too, and immediately pulled up profiles on them all. Some had head and shoulder pictures, others cock pictures. They all lived in a 20-minute radius. And Susan was horny again. It was Susan who contacted them. I never had a chance. And she set up coffee meets with each one and over the next week we met them all at different times at a local cafe. And Susan being direct, there was no beating around the bush. She wanted Black cock and if they could provide it, they were in, so to speak. Needless to say, all six were willing. They were all different, and from different backgrounds. Shaft (Jonah) was an instructor at the local community college. He was tall and athletic in his late 30s. Married and with a good sense of humour. Stallion (James) was in his early 20s and worked as a cook in a small restaurant. He was of medium height, but muscular with a bit of a chip on his shoulder. It was like he deserved my wife's cunt. Blackdog (William) was mid-30s, claimed he worked as a bouncer, was well over six feet tall, and was loud, and uncompromising. During the coffee meet he squeezed Susan into the booth and from across the table I knew his hands were all over her. (She later confirmed.) He had a steel glint in his eyes and I pegged him as the head bull in my wife's future sex life. After the meeting, she agreed he was the most likely to succeed. Bull (Harold) was a gym teacher in his early 40s, a family man, in good shape, and claimed to be every white woman's dream cum true. He was good-natured but a follower, not a leader. Horse (Blair) turned out to live up to his name. He was late teens, and as we eventually found out was hung like a horse. I figured he would be William's deputy. He didn't seem to do anything – no school, no job. Eugene was the odd man out. He was 45. Never married. And had been a practicing doctor for 20 years. He had a bland personality, but was nice enough. He was the guy who would eventually provide HIV testing, and was a pro at fertility. Even after that first meeting Susan said he would be a good person to have around. And indeed he was. She told each guy that she was meeting five other guys and the plan was that each would fuck her regularly, with me present. They all agreed to the sharing of her cunt, and none had problems with cameras or videos as long as their faces weren't seen. Susan set up sessions with all of them for Friday and Saturday evenings over the next three weeks, starting with William and then Blair. I don't know if they were good choices for the first time, but their actions certainly cut to the chase and set the tone and pace of things to come. Susan and I were no strangers to MFM threesomes. We had done plenty over the years. We both noticed certain patterns with the men. The first fuck session could be awkward with me there, and many times she would do a guy solo two or three times before a session was set up that included me. They were always nice, polite, considerate. But as the sessions continued, some became more possessive and others had had their fun and eventually disappeared – or found girlfriends or other sluts like my wife. But some did try to manipulate things and would end up persuading her for more solo fucking, leaving me out. Or showing up with friends during solo sessions. But she usually ended up tapering it off with guys like that. I knew right away William would start off charming. But he would whisper to her, convince her, manipulate her more and more with each session. He's a great guy, but he didn't disappoint in the persuasion category. His quest for control started the very first night. Fantasy Out Of Control Ch. 02 Susan is just five feet tall, and soaking wet weighs about 100 pounds. Her short brown hair matches her hazel eyes, and from her neck down is soft, round curves that includes small, firm breasts with dark inch-long nipples. Her stomach isn't necessarily firm, but there's no fat and shortly trimmed pussy hair does little to obscure her swollen pussy mound with its large clit and large lips. Her heart-shaped ass is often described as perfect and despite her age more than one guy has described her as having the body of a teenager. That Friday night she wore a simple sundress, about mid-thigh length, of a thin cotton material. While it covered her body, the material accentuated everything, flaring at the hips in a most suggestive way. Underneath she wore nothing, and her short-trimmed pussy mound pushed intisingly with just the right movements. William was right on time, and as I let him in (Susan was on the sofa) I noted he was casually, but well dressed in expensive attire. His muscles bulged through his jeans and T-shirt and he was a good five inches taller than me – and I'm almost six feet tall. He was polite in his greeting but showed no nervousness. That was good because we'd had a few in the past who were, and ended up non-starters. I'll skip the preliminaries, except to say William soon put Susan at ease. He was charming and witty, and direct in a non-offending way (just like Susan). He sat beside her and I took an armchair across from them. We talked small talk and finally William asked about any ground rules. Susan said pain was out and 'no' meant 'no.' Other than that she thought they should play it by ear and decide limits as they went along. We warmed to William easily, but I had a feeling that he was a bit of an actor and the first few times would be fairly typical of fuck sessions with some of our previous white friends. Unlike the cafe where we first met, our livingroom was less restrictive as far as conversation was concerned, so William was able to ask questions, as was Susan. She admitted she was fucking another guy regularly (Dave) and had been for years. "Interesting," was William's only comment. After a few drinks, William and Susan were side by side and his arm was across the back of the sofa. Before long it was on her shoulder, and when I went to get more drinks, I returned to find Susan half lying on the sofa with William leaning over her from his seated position. They were kissing passionately and he had one big hand on her breast and the other under her ass. Within a minute her dress was hiked up and her thighs spread as she lay down completely and William kneeled over her. He was good. Susan was soaked and his fingers were soon sticky with her juice. Like I said, I'll skip the warm-up. In a few minutes Susan's dress was pulled down and up so it was like a scarf around her middle. William's jeans were around his ankles and his T-shirt was on the floor. Then the moment came when his almost-hard cock sprang into view as his briefs came off. Susan's eyes widened (as did mine) at the sight of a thick 10 inches of Black meat. He saw the look on her face and grinned. "Don't worry," he said. "It doesn't have to go all the way in." Unlike the porn flicks, William didn't shove his cock in my wife's face and she didn't go down on him. He simply positioned himself and slid the head of his shaft into her pussy. For the next few minutes he slowly worked it in and out, spreading her pussy perhaps wider than any cock had done before. She was moaning and her hand was on his belly as a precaution, sort of slowing him down if the thrusts were too deep. Soon he was in to his balls, and as he sank each thrust, my wife's eyes opened wide, and she gave a little gasp as his pounding expelled the air from her lungs. I can now say it is an amazing sight to see a giant Black man pistoning into a tiny white woman. I was rock hard as I watched from the chair. William's face was contorted in pleasure and Susan's ass and hips were pushed deep into the cushions with every thrust. Unlike all the porn movies, William didn't last for hours. I'd say it was about 10 minutes later that he stiffened and slammed into her one final time as his sperm exploded inside her. That brought on another in a series of climaxes for my wife. I was glad there were no close neighbours, because her screams would have brought them running. Or maybe not in this day and age. It was moments later, when William finally eased out and his long, limp cock plopped from my wife's swollen cunt that I saw the true magnitude of the effects of his mammoth cock. Her pussy was, for a moment, an open hole filled with his milky white liquid. As she slowly sat up, the jism cascaded out of her steamy orifice and drenched the sofa. William was now sitting on the floor and Susan swung her legs down so she was again sitting on the sofa. His sperm was still dripping out of her and he helped her stand up so he could slip the dress to the floor. "Quite a beautiful sight," he said. "An amazing sight when you think about it, your wife's pussy stretched out and dripping a Black man's cum. Ever see that before? I shook my head. I'd imagined it a thousand times, but reality was more difficult to comprehend. My mind raced through the biology involved, the racing sperm and the vulnerable egg. It was a split second thought, and now I was trying to make myself realize that this was actually it. Susan sat back down, legs apart, cunt lips wet and sticky -- and open. William's sizable load was still dripping from her hole in little trickles down to her ass and onto the cushions. The warm-up had been faster than I'd expected, but I was certain the real show was yet to come. And I was right. Susan was aglow and still very aroused. We resumed our drinks and chitchat as if nothing had happened. After 15 or 20 minutes William was stroking my wife's milky white thigh, and I could see his cock was semi-hard. He moved his hands across her body as if appraising his next purchase – feeling, squeezing, rubbing – all the while talking to me about her body, how wet, snug, deep she was. "It's amazing," he said. "She's so tiny but can take 10 inches to the hilt. It's like that's what she was made for. I never felt such a perfect fit in my life. And she's so wet." Until then I felt a bit left out, and maybe a bit sheepish. But I soon got caught up in William's enthusiasm and was agreeing and making my own comments. "Next time try eating her and finger-fucking her at the same time," I said. "And when she's ready to cum, put your mouth over her entire cunt. She'll squirt about a cup full into your mouth. It's the most amazing taste in all the world." "You're shittin' me," William said. "I got to try that." I told him how Dave and I sometimes get her to squirt into wine glasses. Then I'd take the three filled glasses and put them in the fridge to chill. After the next fuck session I'd get them out, add a shot of vodka and we'd drink them. (We'd done that two or three times. Dave was crazy about it.) Susan sat there naked, spread, wet, open, and totally accessable. The big Black hands feeling her most intimate and erogenous spots were making her breathe harder, and her eyes kept going back to William's large, hardening shaft. Soon her hand was playing with it and the other was gently cupping his giant balls hanging in his equally large sac. Inevitably, she leaned over and closed her lips around the bulbous head and in seconds drew William's considerable manhood to its true size. She wasn't necessarily interested in sucking him off, she just wanted that black cock back inside her greedy cunt, the only really legitimate place for penis and sperm. While she offers all holes, she prefers her studs to make most use of her pussy. And William turned out to be insatiable for her twat. He never gets enough. "It's like, every time I use her cunt, it's like the first time," he later told me. "It's like you know it's really good but you can't quite remember what it's like. Every time I fuck her it's like experiencing her for the first time. I know it sounds crazy. And I bet I've fucked her a hundred times. Maybe twice that. It's like half remembering a dream." I knew exactly what he meant. By that time, when William brought it up, I had only vague memories of her warm, wet cunt – how it sucked and milked my cock, until the velvet sensation resulted in explosions of sperm deep into her body. William had probably fucked her four or five times that week and he could hardly remember. Their second coupling that first encounter, began on the couch, moved to the coffee table, and ended up on the floor before William finally draped her over the arm of the couch and fucked her long and hard from behind. She dripped his sperm all over the carpet when she finally stood up after he disengaged. She was loose, dripping, pussy mound swollen, cunt lips distended -- and in a daze. Fantasy Out Of Control Ch. 03 Chapter 3 A visit and a visitor All told, William had been there for about two hours and the night was indeed still young. In fact William suggested we get dressed and head out to a bar. He, of course, knew a place where he could show us a few things that might interest us. "I don't know how far you want to take this, but I'm going to show you something some people call Black-Owned," he smiled as he buttoned his jeans. "Just something to think about. Maybe you won't believe it happens right here in our little town." Susan slipped on the same scant dress and sandals after taking a quick shower, and before long we were following William downtown to what turned out to be a place called Joe's. It was a tavern/pool hall catering (you guessed it) to a mostly Black crowd. We parked beside William and joined him at the entrance, Susan's short, Indian cotton sundress flaring out with each swish of her hips. At the door, William stopped before going in. "This is just an ordinary bar. Lots of ordinary people having a few beers after work," he said. "But there's a few people I'll point out and explain some things to you. Susan's with me. That's the way it has to be 'cause that way we can control the situation – if there is a situation." I knew what he meant. If she was with me, every guy in the place would be after her. "Now, whatever happens, just trust me," He said. "Remember, I'm a bouncer (not at that bar) and I'm used to dealing with drunks." With that, he went in, holding my wife by the wrist as they went through the door first. He later explained that holding her wrist, and not the hand, indicated to everyone that she was his. I walked in behind them and into a completely different world. Well, not completely different. It was just like every other bar except 90 per cent of the people were Black. The 10 per cent who were white were women – with the exception of myself and maybe two other white guys. It was a big place with three rooms plus a pool hall and a corridor at the back that led to washrooms and I presumed some offices. There was a small stage with a brass pole, but no activity there at the moment. Susan would get to know that pole quite well. We sat in the smallest of the three rooms – one of half a dozen tables. It was more intimate than the rest of the place and perhaps where a bit of covert activity went on. Most of the white women were there and they all seemed to have a feverish glow about them – as if a child waiting for candy. One woman seated at a table of five or six Black men no doubt had a lot of 'candy' to swallow at some point in the evening. And all were dressed like whores – breasts hanging out of low-cut blouses, skirts that did nothing to cover thongs and G-strings -- or bare pussys. Their makeup was an open invitation to their cunts. And most had an aura of being extremely well used, experienced, and perhaps on their way downhill. One in particular, a bleach-blonde of about 40, was half drunk or half stoned, and didn't seem to notice her blouse was unbuttoned and her large but beginning-to-sag tits were visible to all. Her short skirt was pulled up and her black thong revealed most of her shaved pussy. Even as I looked she ran her fingers under the thin crotch strap and rubbed her self absent-mindedly. Perhaps it was because most of these women were well known and well used that most eyes turned to Susan as our escort found a table with only two other occupants and gestured for us to sit down. The men's faces showed plenty of interest and the women scowled. The men at our table knew William and he introduced them as, well, I can't remember who they were. I'm sure both of them have since fucked my wife more than once. Susan was seated between William and one of the men. I sat on the other side of the second man – effectively as far away from Susan as possible at the round table. There were two unoccupied seats left and they were soon filled by two more Black men who had come to check out the new white whore. This is sort of how it went for the next half hour. Drinks were ordered. William didn't ask Susan what she wanted, just bought her a double whiskey, no ice. I had a beer. Conversation was polite at first, with all five men asking Susan relatively innocent questions. But eventually, the questions were more personal and intimate. I was totally ignored. Then William simply told them if things went well, Susan would soon be available. They looked at her and she gave a short, quick nod. Then to my complete surprise, he described in detail Susan's body, her cunt, how she was to fuck, their two fuck sessions earlier in the evening, and her interest in possibly going Black for good. She just sat with her drink (her second double) and nodded the odd time. Willaim worked her dress up (I could tell from where I was sitting what he was doing) and the man sitting on the other side of her gave William a questioning look. He nodded and it was obvious from his movements and Susan's quick intake of breath that he was feeling her pussy. The man's smile became huge and Susan began breathing rapidly. Her face glowed and her eyes became glassy. I knew that look. But it seemed to end a few minutes later and William began pointing out the other women. Sara was about 43 and had gone Black about three years before. She was (is?) a school teacher, wife, and mother. A man named Jerry 'owned' her and while he had kept her to himself the first year or so, she was soon loaned out to friends and then just loaned out. One of the men made a joke that Sara had gone in for cosmetic surgery – an anal tuck. They all laughed. They speculated her body was good for another year. After that she'd probably be either dumped or if she wanted put to the community as an actual whore. Beth was 36 and went Black a year before. She was petite like Susan and William described her as a gymnast and a gangbang whore. Her once-snug cunt was like a cavern now and double penetration of her pussy was her favourite. William said she had probably been fucked more times in one year than Sara in three – and by twice as many Black cocks. She was a real estate agent and I recognized her from her visits to my office (not to see me). Eventually she noticed me and was visibly shocked. Not as much as I was, especially when William mentioned she was going to be a breeder, although she didn't know it yet. Apparently her 'owner,' Randy was negotiating it with Beth's husband. I was amazed at how simple the plan was. After her next period replace her birth control pills with duds. Unknown to her, the next few gangbangs would actually be breeding parties. And the plan was even more complicated. Randy was also a real estate agent for the same company but at a different branch in a different town. When she became pregnant and well along, he was arranging for her to be transferred to yet another branch in yet another town in an all-black, all male office. Beth knew nothing about any of it but her husband was heavily involved in the planning and even had a job for himself lined up. Jenny was 45 and was the one who looked about used up. She had been owned at first. Back five or six years ago. And had been the most wanted, most fucked white slut in the area. Now she drifted into all the bars hoping for Black cock and a few dollars to pay for her rent for a shit-hole room in a slum black neighbourhood. The room and its single bed, table, and chair was where she fucked for $5 a dozen times a day. Nobody was turned away. William had checked it out once, he said. He walked into the room where she was splayed on the cot, cum dripping from her pussy and her hands tied to the head of the bed. She'd been ganged and they 'forgot' to untie her. He said there was $20 on the chair. William then noted her gaping ass hole with sperm up to the rim. He settled for a blow job. He said her husband had wanted her to return home to their old life but she refused, preferring to keep peddling her cunt in a degrading lifestyle that despite its poverty, shunning, and abuse – she loved. I looked at her with new appreciation. This was the ultimate end for someone like my wife. This was what it could lead to. "She's what you use when you want it quick at any time of the day or night. And she's still really good. Not much left upstairs though," William said sadly. "We sort of look after her. Make sure she doesn't come to any real harm." Was this all true? I didn't know. It was a pretty tall story, but I was sitting there looking at Jenny's moist cunt just barely covered with thin wet fabric. I guessed it was possible. "So what do you think," William asked my wife who was beginning to get drunk on her third double. "Which one do you want to be?" She sat there thinking, and when she did talk, she asked about their families. William saw what she meant. "Their husbands enjoy it as much, maybe more in some cases, as these white whores do," William said. "With the exception of Jenny, they live at home, look after their kids, go to work. Nobody knows and the folks here keep it that way." She asked about STDs and William explained that the Black community is like a family. Tests are done regularly (remember Eugene?) and they don't fuck outside a certain circle and drug users get the boot. The other men at the table nodded, and one man told her that in our town she was safer fucking Black cock than white. William nodded agreement. "You'll be sore, stretched, gangbanged – maybe even get knocked up, but you'll never catch so much as the clap," he said. "You'll have gallons of Blackmans' seed in your cunt, ass, and belly, but it won't kill you." About then, William noticed that Beth was squeezing out of her seat and heading for the ladies room. She was a stunning woman and her short tight skirt and almost-nothing white blouse put her body on display for everyone. Even from where I was sitting in the dark bar I could tell she had removed her panties and that her pussy was shaved (electrolysis William later told me). When I made a small joke about it looked like she rode horses (she walked like a horsewoman, much like my wife did on the way to the car and then into the bar), William laughed and said she rode a lot of studs. "Hundreds of hours in the saddle." The point was, William wanted Susan to visit the ladies room at the same time as Beth. "If she says anything, tell her William is considering making a purchase. She'll understand.," William said. "And tell her William would like her and Randy to share our table. But don't say anything about the plans to breed her." Susan left the table a little unsteadily, and I noticed as she stood that she had to pull down her dress that had been up around her belly. She followed Beth and disappeared for a few moments – perhaps five – and returned a minute after Beth. Soon two of our Black friends left the table and Randy and Beth took their places. Necessary introductions were made between Susan and Randy, and I was added as an after thought. "And oh, this is her husband," William said to the newcomers. "She may not be needing him much longer, depending on how tonight goes." Randy smiled knowingly, and Beth nodded as if that was only natural. "I'm off limits to Robert, " Beth explained to Susan in reference to her husband. "It's been, oh, maybe six months now. He has other ways of being satisfied. Really it's best that way." She looked at me shyly, as if I might do something. "You won't tell anyone about any of this," she asked me. "Nobody knows." I assured her I wouldn't say a word and asked her just how Robert managed to get satisfied. "Mostly he jerks off," she said. "Sometimes he gets to watch, even help. And there is an endless supply of DVDs he can watch. Randy has all the digital video equipment and Bob has a stack of videos a foot high. He doesn't do much else but watch them. I wish he'd get a life." I later came to know Robert and his version of events was fairly similar. Beth is a real tease and is relentless in making him suffer. Maybe later I'll describe some of what I witnessed. You've never seen anything until you've seen Beth's gaping pussy (and I mean it's a wide open hole) dripping cum after she's been had by a dozen Black cocks. Susan was now between William and Randy, and her dress was back up around her waist. The front was open and the two men were obviously feeling her beneath the table, and discussing her body and her potential as a Black-owned whore. "She's certainly got the body," Randy acknowledged. "Beautiful pussy. Her ass is tight, but that's just a bit of experience. I don't know. I guess I'd have to try her out a few times. We could do her together back at my place, but the kids are home." William nodded at the idea and wandered aloud about a suitable location. "My place is out right now,," he said. "I guess we just go back to her place. It's secluded. What about it Slut," he asked Susan. "Want to really get started? Either we all go back to your place or we end the whole thing right now?" William's, or maybe it was Randy's, fingers were inside her. I could tell. Her eyes were glassy, she was well on the way to being drunk, and she was as horny as I'd ever seen her. The fingers were doing their job and she arched her back involuntarily, forcing the top of the dress to open wider. Two perfect breasts, topped with bullet long and bullet hard nipples came to view. Her breathing was heavy and ragged. At that moment you could have done anything with her or to her. It was a no-brainer we were going back to my house. Fantasy Out Of Control Ch. 04 Chapter 4 The terms and conditions "You go with him," Randy told Beth as he nodded towards me. "We'll take care of William's new whore." I had an interesting conversation with Beth and I know we would have fucked except she isn't allowed white cock. "It's a rule," she explained. "I'll never ever have white cock again. I even signed a contract, just like I'm guessing your wife will do soon. She's made for it – Black cock, that is. She'll love it – the life." She was in the front seat beside me in the parking lot. I was looking at a woman who had absolutely no sexual inhibitions left. Even as we talked, me putting the key in the ignition and her pulling on a seat belt, her other hand was between her legs, skirt up and her amazing cunt visible. Everything she did seemed designed to lead her towards orgasm. I should point out that by now I was past horny. My rock-hard cock throbbed. I had seen my wife fucked twice by a Black cock, had seen her pawed, fingered, and practically stripped naked in a Black bar. I had seen other white women put themselves on display for Black men, and I was sitting beside an almost naked tiny blonde woman who would very soon be bred by Black men. She was to become an instrument, or vehicle if you like, to produced Black babies – and she didn't even know it. So if I was horny and not necessarily thinking straight, please forgive me. Susan was in the fancy, expensive import car behind us with Randy driving. I didn't know if she was in the back or the front, nor where William was. Perhaps if they had been ahead of me I would have stopped and persuaded Beth to reconsider the no-white-cock rule. But we were home in a few minutes anyway, and Beth and I had only that time to talk. I asked about her husband Rob. "I started out doing this because that's what he wanted," Beth explained. "It took a long time to convince me, but after the first time I was hooked. And if he really wanted me to stop, I would. But he'd never satisfy me. He may have once been all I needed, but not anymore. I guess I'd be disappointed sexually, but I'd survive. You wife will be the same way. In fact she probably is already." She said it probably sounded stereotypical and all that, but once a white woman experiences Black cock, she'll never be the same. "Sex takes on a whole different dimension," she told me. "How can I put it? Okay, sex with a white man is like someone giving you a banana once a week. Sex with a Black man is like having the entire banana split every day of the week. And another thing. Sex with a white man is just physical. Sex with a Black man is 10 times more physical but it's psychological too. It's taboo, for one thing. There's the risk of getting caught which is a big turn-on for me. There's the risk of getting pregnant. Can you imagine me, the cute little blonde, with a big Black baby inside me? And people's reactions? And of course there is being owned. I'm literally owned by a Black man. Randy can do whatever he wants with my body and I can't refuse him. And he's made me do almost every degrading sexual act there is short of fucking animals. But if he asked me to fuck his big black lab, I would." I can't say I was stunned or anything like that. But what she said put things in a whole different perspective. By the time we pulled in my driveway, and saw Susan (naked), William, and Randy through the living room window (I had stopped with blinker on to let them pull in first so my car was the one visible), the entire fantasy of the day before took on a completely different colour – so to speak. I got out of the car, and Beth was doing the same, but on a whim, I stopped her. "Beth, take your clothes off and leave them in the car," I said in a matter-of-fact way. There were no close neighbours and we were a bit secluded from the street. "And when we go in – during the next several hours – impress upon my wife how much you love being Black-owned. I want her to wake up tomorrow with her mind made up. Mine already is." Beth smiled as she shed her skirt and blouse. "You're a lot like Robert," she said. Her body was cute and sexy. The engorged pussy with its out-sized lips hanging open were incongruous, but they told the whole story. The gallons of Black man's seed that had already passed through those lips and deep into her belly were many, and the gallons to come were unimaginable. That was Susan a year from now, I thought. Beth and I went inside and neither William nor Randy batted an eye at her nakedness. Susan was in no position to say anything. She was sitting on a stool in the middle of the living room, naked, legs spread and her loose cunt on display. She was still hot and I expected she had been well played with on the drive home. "We were just explaining to Susan about being Black-owned," Randy said. "I don't think it's quite what you two think. At least it's not around this town. Forget all you've read on the Internet. Forget the notions you may have built up in the last few years. With us, Black-owned is simple. Susan becomes, literally, William's property. Much like owning a dog. You both continue your normal lives. We won't impose upon that. But when night-time rolls around – every night – she belongs to William. Every weekend from Friday evening to the wee hours of Sunday morning, she's his to do with as he pleases." I was listening to him but watching my increasingly horny and agitated wife. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the edge of the stool between her splayed legs. Her juices were actually dripping. "She will do anal, double penetration, oral – tit fucking – whatever William wants with him or whomever he wishes," Randy continued. "But she'll never be hurt. She'll never catch anything. And nobody outside our network of friends will hurt her. As long as she's William's she's safer than any white woman in this town. If she gets knocked up, she delivers. If somebody brings a video camera she smiles at it and fucks in front of it." Susan was barely hanging on now. She was too short for her legs to touch the floor and Beth slipped in behind her to steady her – a hand on her back and the other on her thigh – which apparently aroused Susan even more because she gave a quick gasp. Randy was talking mainly to me but for Susan's benefit. "You okay with all of this," he asked me, as if he knew it was already all right with my wife. "So far it is," I replied. "Keep going." "Good," Randy said. "This is what we're going to do. William and I are going to spend the night in your bedroom with your wife. Since this is new to you, you can watch, even join in when it's appropriate. You'll see your wife satisfied like you'll never be able to do. When we're done, Bill and I will be so worn out we'll be crawling out the door. Your wife will have the loosest pussy you've ever seen (I glanced at Beth and Randy laughed). She'll be sore. She'll have cum dripping from her ass, and probably hickies and bite marks from her neck down. But I can guarantee one thing – she'll still want more. In fact, I'll make that a bet." Beth had been absently nodding at everything he said. She knew. "In the next few days, you and Susan will talk and decide between you if she goes on to the real thing. If the answer is no, then that's it. A bit of fun was had by all, but no hard feelings. If the answer is yes, then we get out the paperwork. You'll give up all rights to her body and sign them over to William. I know this has no legal standing but it serves to keep things on track and in perspective. Your signature will be on it and I expect you're a man of your word. There's an out-clause in it for Susan and for William. None for you. After it's signed, you have no more say. Susan or William can end it with three months notice. If you cause trouble, the contract may find its way into the public domain." Susan was moaning and Beth was stroking her back as if to comfort her. "You may be wondering about being allowed to fuck your wife," Randy said, reading my mind. "For a few months, that's fine. In fact you'll enjoy her more than ever. But when six months arrives, that's it. By then I expect you'll have discovered other ways to get off. If it becomes known that you fucked her, or even tried to get your cock in her, there will be consequences you'll regret. No physical harm, don't think that of William. But things will start to go wrong in your life – let's just leave it at that. This is a bit like a game, psychologically, but it's a serious game. You're getting your fantasy. Susan's getting to be the slut she really is. We're getting plenty of white cunt. Everyone wins." Randy was about done, but had to add that as in the case of Beth, Susan would be filmed pretty much every fuck session. It wouldn't be those little toy digital video cameras either. It would be his own professional equipment. The videos would be for public consumption within the Black community and as a gesture, I would receive copies. And of course, there was a private website where her pictures, videos, and streaming videos would be stored and others could make requests to use her cunt. That would be up to William. At the time, this all seemed so serious, so final – but at the same time so unreal. Randy was both friendly, yet his voice carried authority and finality. There would be no arguing. But they really weren't as tough as all the talk. They weren't like all those stories I'd read about 'gangstas' and 'home boys.' Yes, they had different ideas about sex, and different ideas about white women and their role in society, but just like William wouldn't kick a dog, or slap a child, he wouldn't hurt a white woman. Sure, he'd use her to the point of abuse, but never to a point she wouldn't want to go. I look now at my wife's nipple rings, at her multiple clit piercings (five on each outsized cunt lip and one on the hood of her large and sensitive clit) and know that in the end, she was the one who agreed to it. And she agreed not just to the holes being made, but to what they signified and the use to which they might be put. The Susan I married would never have endured the pain of being tattooed. But she now has several – one above her now-bald pussy that says 'Black Owned,' and one in the small of her back that simply says 'William's.' And she is his property, just like Max the German Shepard is his dog. In his world (now mine and Susan's) that's how it is. He trained Max how to fetch, stay on the property, and not to bite. He taught my wife similar things, including how to roll over. Max gets a treat for rolling over, so does Susan. To William, and to the other families in this circle of families, Susan is his bitch. But she agreed to it. William and Beth had listened quietly, both nodding their heads from time to time as if this was all normal. My wife sat on display, and at the time I didn't know if she actually heard any of it or absorbed the discussion about her future – the use of her body as a fuck toy for Blacks. Later she told me she had heard, but as if in a dream. Beth's stimulations were driving her towards an orgasm she couldn't quite achieve and Randy's voice, she said, was hypnotic. But she didn't move because Randy had told her not to. And she didn't speak because she found she couldn't. William had the last word. "It's all up to you," he said more to Susan than to me. "If you want tonight to continue forever, then you'll agree to what Randy said. If not, well, ..." That last he said as if she would be turning down lottery winnings of major proportions.