19 comments/ 76548 views/ 23 favorites Walk of Shame By: untilmorning Amanda's hands clung deeply in his thick blond head of hair as his mouth burned a trail over her bare breasts and he blew lightly against her heated skin. "Jake..." she whispered, her hips arching as his fingers hooked in the hem of her jeans. His tongue lapped circles around her belly button, sending her writhing as the button of her pants came loose and he worked the material over her hips. In the dim light of his bedroom she stared wide eyed at the ceiling as she felt his breath on the exposed thatch of hair between her legs. She so shouldn't be here... Only two weeks ago she'd agreed to go on one date to him. Despite her rejection of his first advances, his green eyes and charming smile persuaded her otherwise. And he'd been so sweet... One date wouldn't hurt, so long as her parents never found out. Jake Hooper... her father would have a heart attack. Not so long ago the Hooper name had been all over the papers when Evelyn Hooper came clean about her alleged affairs with several state officials. A high end prostitute, they'd called her, and Jake happened to be her oldest child. If that weren't bad enough, Amanda's father was on the list of names she'd so generously handed over to the press. None of it was true, of course. Even Jake seemed to believe that, and even seemed to have less love for his own mother than Amanda did. So one date turned into three, and then a few afternoons at the beach when she should have been studying in her dorm where her parents thought she was... And she liked him, damn it. Forget she never meant to find herself alone with him in his one bedroom apartment. But then, that could be a problem. Especially since Amanda knew damn well that their budding relationship was doomed to go nowhere. In fact, she'd meant to break it off tonight. Gently, if possible. But now that her jeans were around her knees... Reaching for him, Amanda meant to guide him upwards, away from her burning body. "Jake..." He took the pressure of her hands as encouragement and slid his bare chest up hers until his lips pressed her chin, her cheek, and then her mouth. His tongue slipped between her lips to touch hers and for a moment she was lost again. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, wrapped around him. His hand slid down her body to cup between her thighs and her eyes snapped open, her hands moved to his chest to push him away. He smiled crookedly down at her, brushing her dark bangs away from her eyes. "Mandy..." Pressing her hand over his mouth, she regarded him sadly as he kissed her palm. "Jake, wait..." ....................... Twelve weeks later Her fingers shaking as she looked down at the small, typed note she'd found on the windshield of her car that evening, Eve Hooper took a deep breath. She stared up at the rusting numbers drilled into the door in front of her. 2-2... and then a shadow where the zero used to be. Carefully opening her purse she slid the note inside, her eyes briefly halting on the shiny black handgun safely tucked in next to a half empty pack of spearmint gum and a wallet it three dollar bills and her identification cards. Eve didn't even know how to use a gun. But somehow, it had seemed like a good idea to sneak it out of her father's safe the moment she'd decided to go through with this asinine idea. Of course, as soon as she'd read the note, she'd known she was going to go through with it. That's what desperate people did, didn't they? They met anonymous strangers in cheap hotel rooms. And Eve Hooper was desperate. The last three months of her life had been complete hell, and if a typed up note suggested she could change that, she was willing to risk anything. She'd risk anything, anyway, for her brother Jake. Six years ago she'd been a fifteen year old girl forced to hide in bathrooms of cheap hotels just like this while her mother entertained various men, claiming it was what kept them fed. Funny, Eve had always mused, since there never seemed to be any food around. Only the drugs and cheap wine that made her mother mean... whenever a man came over, Eve had learned to make herself scarce, knowing that if she didn't the belt would come out, and her mother would make her pay dearly for it. Jake had been older, but still only seventeen, and had done his best to keep track of her, occasionally showing up with something descent to eat and money for Eve that their mom took as soon as he was gone. Eve never dared to ask him to take her with him when he left. Jake had gone from living on the streets to finding a job that paid enough for him to rent a small apartment. But the day he showed up with no notice to find his sister bruised and crying on the floor of the most recent hotel their mother had moved them into had been his final straw. He took Eve away, regardless of their mother's threats to have him arrested for kidnaping. Unable to provide for her himself, Jake had done the unthinkable and tracked down the father they had both been raised to believe had left them To Eve's delight, they'd found a man nearly twenty years older than their mother. At sixty, Bill Hooper was possibly the only man who had ever loved the woman who'd raised his children enough to marry her. He told them in the first three years of their marriage, they'd been happy, but the day he'd lost his job was the day that Evelyn had left, only two days after Eve had been born. He invited the siblings in, but Jake being as stubborn as he was to make it on his own, left Eve with their father, checking in every few days. She and Bill had gotten along well at first. She had no doubt that he loved her, though he turned out to be quite the strict father. He insisted she excel at everything she set out to do. He constantly watched her grades, set curfews, and was the only real parent she'd ever known. When Jake came to visit, Bill had openly attempted to develop a relationship with his son, and while Jake eventually became a part of their small family, he was forever independent, regardless of the consequences. Before he turned eighteen, Eve's brother had been to jail twice, both times for petty theft, and then spent the first six months after his twenty first birthday locked up for selling drugs. When he was out again he'd finally agreed to move in with Eve and Bill to make an attempt at working towards a better life for himself. By then, Eve had graduated highschool and with her father's help had taken courses to become a massage therapist. Her hopes were that the job would help her work her way through college, as she'd decided to become a teacher. It was during her first year of community college that her mother had resurfaced, this time through the media as she made claims and went as far as writing a book about her liaisons with men in power. Bill had been devastated when photographs of himself and his children were scattered through the tabloids, most of the gossip aimed at Eve, who's resemblance to her mother was uncanny. The day she showed up at school and a fellow student had handed her twenty dollars and propositioned a blow job was the day she dropped out. It was Jake who'd protected her from all of this, convincing her to go back to school and even using his part time job at a gas station to help her with tuition. She was half way through her second year by the time the media hype simmered down... and now this. All because her brother had misplaced his heart and fallen in with a Governor's daughter. A governor who'd been slandered all over the press because of his own mother. Eve had told him it was a bad idea the day she spotted him with Amanda Chandler. But Jake had insisted he couldn't let her go, and when he'd enrolled himself in school only a week after meeting her, Eve couldn't bring herself to say the changes he was trying to make for himself-- and for Amanda-- were a mistake. Until, of course, the evening the police had shown up to arrest Jake for the rape of Amanda Chandler. Eve had been heartbroken, and she feared the return of the media into their lives would kill their father, who'd recently recovered from a stroke. Amanda's word against Jake's was proving to be the biggest trial of their lives. The girl seemed hell bent to send him away, and Eve was equally determined to see him released. Regardless of the hype, she was convinced that her brother would never, ever, hurt a girl like that. But they were due to go to trial in just a few weeks, and after the story had appeared in the papers, Jake's public defender was convinced that they wouldn't have a sympathetic jury. Desperate to help any way she could, Eve couldn't quite resist the note that read: Need to talk to you about your brother. 8th and Hannock. Room 220. Come alone. Startled, she'd thought about calling the police. She'd even driven by the strip of hotel rooms three times that morning, wondering what this person had to say, if she should bring the legal system into it. When she'd seen a back window perfect for escaping from as she'd driven away for the second time off the interstate she'd decided that she'd better not. For all she knew, this might be her only chance at clearing her brother's name. So there she was, bundled in a pink sweater and her most comfortable shoes, knocking softly on the door of 220. After minutes of no response, Eve nervously knocked again, harder this time. "It's open", a smooth male voice sounded muffled from the other side. Eve worried at her bottom lip. She'd hoped it was a woman, but in truth had wondered if it were another man, perhaps an angry man Amanda had screwed over in the past, ready for vengeance. Deciding to be optimistic, rather than terrified, Eve turned the doorknob and let the door swing open a few inches, peering in cautiously to darkness. "Come on in," the voice beckoned her again, more clearly now. One hand on her purse to assure herself with the cool surface of steel behind the faux leather surface of the bag and her other against the door, Eve stepped in cautiously, a frown marking her brow as she looked carefully over her surroundings. She'd been prepared for the odor of stale cigarettes and dust, familiar from her childhood. Stained carpet and barely sterile bedding. Instead she looked over the dim glow of a lavender candle at the small but tidy room. The floral printed comforter was stretched tight over the queen sized mattress. The mismatched dressers were dust free, and the beige carpeting was worn but stain free. The glow of a soundless television mingled with candlelight as her eyes adjusted away from the summer afternoon outside, the warmth of it sucked away by the steady blow of the air conditioner. Frowning, Eve searched for the one who'd called this meeting, only to find the source of him behind her when the door was suddenly shut and locked. Her instincts urging her to spin around, she aimed to do so before a firm hand on her back, just below her ribs stopped her. "Don't," he ordered. His voice commanding against her ear, she could smell the scent of soap and a man's aftershave. Barely able to control the sudden tremor that moved through her, Eve was surprised by how steady her voice came. "Who are you?" she demanded as her hand slid once again over the cool surface of her purse and then under the flap at top and into the contents, where her fingers paused over the feel of cool steel. There was a pause on his part, and her shoulders grew rigged as she heard the sound of a second lock. "I'm someone who has an interest in your brother's case." "How?" she asked, wanting desperately to turn around, but the large hand on her tightened, warning her it may not be a good idea. She sensed him shifting, his body moving in behind hers. She sensed his height, his closeness though he didn't touch her, and swallowed nervously. "Let me ask you something," he said, his voice lowering a notch. "When you think about what blood runs in your veins... hooker. Rapist.... do you ever wish you could cut it out?" Eyes widening in panic, Eve's hand closed around the gun, tore it from her purse. Just as quickly, a strong arm wrapped around her middle to pull her against a broad chest, his free hand covering her threatening one until she found herself with her finger on a trigger; his own over hers, and the barrel of her father's handgun pressing threateningly beneath her chin. Cool, mocking laugher reached her ear as warm breath tickled her neck, sending terrified shivers down her spine. "Is that so?" he asked in response to her failed attack. The gun pressed harder while her hand resisted it. "I suppose... maybe it's easier this way. Maybe this is what would be better for both of us..." His finger tightened on hers... Eve sobbed when the trigger released, the gun clicked loudly. His laugher grew deeper, the gun fell away and without warning her wrestled both of her hands behind her back with one of his. "I didn't think so," he mocked the unloaded gun. "Do you even know what a bullet looks like?" "What do you want?" Eve screamed, her voice as shrill at she could get it. Her hope was to alert anyone... just anyone, who might be passing by to call the police she realized she should have gone to in the first place. "What do I want?.... hmm, what do I want?" he mused, and she could feel his lips within inches of the curve between her shoulder and her neck as his free hand splayed leisurely over the flatness of her stomach. Despite his finger biting into her wrists the gentleness of his touch left her unprepared for the vicious tone his voice took on. "I want to see your brother as helpless as his victim was... but since that seems to be out of my reach I guess I'll have to settle for you. What is it they say? An eye for an eye... a sister for a sister?" Blinded by her terror, Eve lunged herself forward, her scream caught in her throat, and he gladly let her until her arms burned and he spun her around. He flung her back flush against the door and she hit with a startled thud before openly staring up at him. His height towered hers, and even in the dark she could see the shine of his stylishly cropped midnight hair and the shine of dark eyes. His face appeared sculpted; broad mouth below the firm cut of a straight nose. His shirtless body was stretched tight over hard earned muscle, the tight set of his jaw all too familiar. He was at least ten years older than she was, handsome in his early thirties. It wasn't the first time she'd seen his face. He was in the papers whenever a high profile case turned up. Murders. Rapes. Cooperate frauds. He'd made it into last years edition of most eligible bachelor, and more recently into a story about a loyal brother swearing to bring his little sister's rapist to justice. Eve had never met Marcus Chandler face to face, and now wished she never had. He was the newest district attorney. He wouldn't be trying her brother due to his relationship to Amanda, but Eve had sworn she'd spotted him in the back of the courtroom at her brother's last hearing. Her shock still getting the better of her over running into him here, her eyes widened. "It's you..." "It's me," he agreed, his eyes sliding from the shock on her face, down her body almost lewdly. "And you," he said, seeming amused as his eyes caught hers again, "are at least more fuckable than I thought. I thought you were supposed to look like your mother." So shocked that her lips parted, Eve barely had a moment to process his words and try to scream before he was suddenly swinging her around, shoving her backwards until her body hit the firmness of a mattress and she bounced twice before she caught her balance. "Screaming will annoy me, but won't hurt me," he informed her as he stalked towards her and lifted a knee onto the bed between her feet. Eve felt another scream bubble as her fingers came against something coarse and she found herself lifting a three foot stretch of rope so thin she hadn't spotted it before. He snatched it from her hands and before she could scramble away he was on her, his body boxing her in as she raked her nails violently down his unresponsive, bare chest. "No one will hear you," he said calmly when she finally did scream. He was, a little too easily, tossing her purse aside and wrestling her wrists over her head as his weight came down on her frantically kicking feet. "The walls are thin... but I rented out both rooms next to us. No one will hear..." Eve barely heard him as she arched her neck back in disbelief to watch the rope twine tightly over her wrists, binding her securely to the bedframe. She screamed profanities she'd only ever heard her brother use before as she attempted to get a grip on her situation. She was pinned beneath his weight, kicking at air while her arms were stretched in a manner that certainly didn't give her the upper hand, and yet her blind tantrum continued as he watched her, seemingly satisfied, until his hand dropped over her right breast. Eve's stopped screaming abruptly, not believing his nerve as she squirmed defiantly against his touch when his thumb brushed back and forth over her nipple until it hardened beneath the surface of her sweater. "That's better," he said softly, the corner of his mouth turning up. She couldn't tell if he was referring to her hardened nipple or the fact that she'd stopped screaming. With his eyes never leaving her face, and his same finger relentlessly sliding over the most sensitive part of her breast, he continued soberly. "I want you to pay attention, okay? The next time you scream, I'm going to put something in your mouth that you won't like. Understand?" "Why are you doing this?" she demanded, instead of answering him. "Please... please let me go. I'll never tell anyone." She felt the heat of tears on her face, but he regarded her pitilessly, his thumb and forefinger suddenly clamping over her nipple and eliciting a gasp from her. "I promise you," he returned. "I don't care who you tell. It won't matter by then." he leaned over her, shading the already dim light. "Now tell me you understand that the next time you scream, I'll put something in your mouth that you don't like." Eve swallowed hard. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded slowly. He seemed pleased, straightening himself. "Good. Now here's what's going to happen, bitch. You're not going to run from me, because I'm not going to untie you until I decide you've had enough." Eve shook visibly beneath him, turning her body to shy away from the hand that had gone back to cupping her breast. "Enough of what?" she choked out. "Please, please..." Marcus stared at her for a moment, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity over his features, and then suddenly and without warning, he moved off of her, watching as she immediately pulled herself into a sitting position. Shaking his head at her efforts, he reached for her feet and pulled her hard until her back was flush against the bed, and she was struggling against him again. He lifted one of her feet, careful to avoid the other, more aggressive one, and slowly plucked off her shoe and peeled off her sock, leaving her small foot bare. He ran curious fingers over purple-painted toenails, and then pinned her ankle under his knee before he quickly grabbed the other, repeating the process. "I wish you could have seen the look on my sister's face the morning your brother dumped her off in front of her home. Like she was trash." Eve shook her head defiantly, the accusation angering her despite the circumstances. "You're wrong! He never..." she cut herself off abruptly when his grip tightened around her ankle and his eyes flew furiously to hers. "You didn't see... but you'll know." She froze, his announcement having the desired effect. Her eyes landed on his in disbelief, and he smiled triumphantly. Walk of Shame She should have been mad. She should have thrown me out there and then. Instead my wife was disturbingly calm and reasoned. She was going to be worse than angry, she was going to get even. She was going to make sure I got what was coming to me for sleeping with that cute piece of ebony ass and that I would truly regret it. Although we were white, we lived right on the edge of a tough black neighborhood. I'd always been fascinated by those cute, curvy black babes with big butts and big tits, so when one came onto me I did nothing to resist. Everything was great, the best sex of my life, until my wife had caught us in bed together and that was how we got here. My wife wasn't going to leave me for what I'd done, she was going old school, she was going to punish me, to put me on the receiving end. And here was her scheme: she was going to drive me to the tough heart of the neighboring black ghetto and leave me there, all I had to do was walk home and when I got there she'd take me back. Easy, right? Oh, just one more thing, I'd have to do it dressed like a streetwalking slut! It wasn't just a case of her forcing me into some ill fitting cast off clothes of hers, either. She had really prepared for this, going out specially to buy me the perfect whorish outfit to parade before the hungry horny guys of the black ghetto. So, now I found myself stood in a rough, dirty, graffiti filled street, wearing a scarlet lace thong and matching bra that showed through my midriff bearing white vest top. My shaved legs were in a pair of black stockings with lacy tops that were visible beneath a very short black PVC miniskirt. On my feet a pair of translucent stripper heeled platforms made it difficult to walk anywhere with any speed, while the slut look was completed by lots of mascara, rouge and red painted lips with a blonde bob cut wig over my normal hair. Catching a glimpse of myself in a TV screen in a pawnshop window, I had to admit I looked like the kind of dirty slut that I myself would get aroused by. For a while, as I tottered along the street in my ridiculous heels, I didn't draw any more attention than a few wolf whistles and cat calls. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all, a little humiliating maybe but I could cope with that. This was just giving me a false sense of security, though, as I found when I turned down one particularly dark, narrow alley. In a moment my view was blocked by a shape, a shadow that turned out to be a big, broad shouldered man almost a head taller than me and much tougher. He was bald with dark chocolate skin, dressed in a t shirt and low slung jeans and eyeing me up with a hungry look that made me feel uncomfortable and exposed in my tiny vest top and short shiny skirt. "Well, what do we have here?" he smirked, "Looks like I've caught myself a pretty little bitch. You know what bitch's like you do for big tough niggers like me, don't you, slut?" I wanted to run but the big black hunk was blocking my exit and, anyway, I could never have gotten far in my ridiculous stripper heels, so I just nodded meekly and didn't offer too much resistance when the strange man put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me to my knees right there in the alley. Despite my nervous fears, my eyes and mouth were both wide with a kind of impressed shock when this alley stranger pulled out his massive black dong. It wasn't even stiff and already it was bigger than mine would be fully erect. I was impressed and appalled by its huge dark size as the big man standing over me grabbed it in his strong black fist and started jerking it, getting it bigger, harder and waving it right in my face. I knew what he wanted me to do, but I was shy about actually committing to it. "Come on, suck it bitch," he growled, "Dressed like that and walking through here, I know that's just what you want!" He slapped me across the face with his fat chocolate love muscle and it smarted. I opened my pink painted lips in spite of myself and felt that dark meat shoved between them. There was only a couple of inches of his long, dark love rod in my wet mouth, but it felt filled like it never had before. The first dick a supposedly "straight" guy like me had ever sucked and it was a big black monster, while I knelt on the dirty floor of an alleyway dressed like a hooker. I don't know how much of it really was me sucking his big black meat and how much was him fucking my face, simply using my pink mouth as another open wet receptacle for his throbbing massive black arousal. Either way, I just knelt there on the dirty alley floor while his enormous black dick violated my mouth again and again until it twitched, quivered and I felt some slimy sticky goo hitting the back of my throat. Without another word, he let his now floppy black monster slip from my mouth, making me drool some cum onto my vest even as I tried to swallow the rest of the sticky mess. With my red lipstick smeared and smudged already, he wiped the rest of the cum on his massive black member across my face and then walked off, leaving me still kneeling on the alley floor. I got to my feet unsteadily, both from the shock of taking a huge black cock between my scarlet lips and from being unused to standing in the high stripper heels that my wife had forced me into. Slowly trying to process what had just happened, I tottered off out of this alley and along on my way home. On a quiet street corner I saw a couple more guys, probably no more than 19 or 20, built like huge black athletes. They were in conversation with each other, so I could only hope they hadn't really noticed me as I walked along the street towards them. The corner was narrow enough that I would have to pass quite close to these two young thugs in order to pass by and, as I did so, I felt sure that they weren't bothered by the slutty looking white "girl". But then, as I walked by, I felt a hand slap against my ass in my tight, very short miniskirt and turned to see a large black hand groping me. "Hey, bitch, what's a slut like you doing in a neighborhood like this?" the guy with his hand on my ass said. "Only one thing a bitch looking like this can want from guys like us," his friend smirked, taking my hand and rubbing it over his crotch as his buddy continued to grope my ass. "That's right. Hungry for nigger cock are you, white bitch?" the first guy took my other hand and mirrored his friend, making it so I had two strong black hands holding my skinny little white ones to their crotches, feeling the huge girth of their manhoods even through their sweatpants. The first guy pulled his dick out and his huge, thick ebony semi-hard boner was every bit as intimidatingly impressive as the man I'd just sucked off in the alley. He pushed his dick into my hand and I had no choice but to grasp that warm, stiffening black meat and begin to stroke it, or rather let him push his shaft through my hand, getting it stiffer and harder. As he basically fucked my hand, he used his own hand to slip under my skirt and feel up my ass in my red lace thong and tiny shiny miniskirt. The other guy followed suit and pulled his big black beast from his sweatpants too. It was even bigger than his buddy's, almost as thick as my wrist and already about twice the length of mine even when not yet fully hard. Without really meaning to, I had two big black dicks in my hands and was almost instinctively jacking them off. Meanwhile, as his friend groped my pale white ass beneath my tight PVC skirt, this black stud had one hand tearing my white vest top to reveal the red lace of my bra underneath, groping at my flat chested "breasts". His other hand was on my mouth, where the first black guy, the guy from the alley, had already shoved his manhood, smearing my red lipstick a little and making me swallow his semen. Now, this muscular young black stud began to run his fingers around my lips, before pushing one inside my mouth. Pretty soon he was basically finger fucking my mouth while I jacked him and his black buddy to stiffness. "This slutty little white bitch has a real cocksucker's mouth," he said, "Let's see how she uses it." "On your knees, you dirty white slut," his buddy who had been groping my ass now grabbed my shoulders and pushed me to kneel on the dirty pavement, "Get ready for a mouthful of big ass nigger cock!" On my knees with the two giant black dongs waving in my face and jutting out from the muscular bodies of the young thugs standing over me, they seemed even bigger, more intimidating. They made me (and the little white dick tucked beneath my skirt in its red lace thong) feel small and insignificant. I didn't have the power to resist as the guy that had been fingering my red lips replaced his finger with his hard, erect cock. Directed by the two young tough blacks, I grabbed both shafts at once, my little white hand scarcely big enough to wrap around either thick dark love muscle. As I stroked the two monster shafts, I opened my mouth as wide as it would go and let the big black stud above me shove the head of his ebony monster into my mouth. A few seconds of him fucking my face left me sucking, slurping and gasping for air. I was only able to inhale for a moment, though, before I felt my head grabbed violently by his muscular stud buddy and my attention pulled to the other quivering veiny black shaft, which was then shoved unceremoniously into my mouth until I gagged on its massive size. "Man this dirty white slut is hungry for black meat," the one guy said, pulling my gasping mouth back onto his rock hard ebony fuck stick, "She just can't get enough, she's got to take two at once in her dirty slut mouth!" None of this was true. I wasn't hungry for black cock. I was desperate to get home and get out of this ridiculous slutty outfit my wife had forced on me. The only reason I was down on my knees jacking off two incredible, long, fat black dicks, alternating my wet red mouth from one to the other, is because these two guys were so much bigger, more manly, more powerful than me and there was nothing that I could do to stop them from taking whatever they wanted from me. I couldn't tell them that, though. In fact, I couldn't say anything but slurp and gasp around that pair of trembling dark dicks. With the first guy I had managed to swallow down all of his sticky, salty cum. In fact, I could still taste it in my throat even as the precum glistened alongside my saliva on the two hard cocks alternating at fucking my throat. But there was no way I was going to able to swallow the spunk of two hot young studs at once. I opened my mouth wide and pulled both black dicks in until the two glistening heads were resting on my tongue right beside each other. Stroking both shafts, I began to milk those ebony monsters as both tough black youths came at once. Two jets of slimy goo shot from the two thick black dicks at once, crossing streams in my wet mouth. I swallowed down as much as I could, but I could feel a slimy trail leaking from the sides of my lips and, anyway, after that first spurt I could no longer hold both dicks in my mouth at once. Between them the two hung black studs still had a few more spurts of sticky, white cum to shoot from the black love sticks that I pumped in my pale white hands. I could do nothing to prevent it as the two black studs spurted streams of sticky sperm over me, one hit me in the face, another in my slutty blonde wig, another across my chest. Like the last guy, these two lost interest in me the moment they had dumped their loads over me. They put their glistening, now limp black members back in their sweatpants and turned to walk off down the street, laughing to each other and congratulating themselves on finding such a dirty slut on a street corner. I just brushed the dirt of the street off my skirt and the knees of my stockings, which were beginning to rip, got to my feet and carried on walking home. One of the straps of my white vest was now torn, revealing the red lace of my bra strap, making me look unintentionally even more slutty. My make up and red lipstick was smudged with blowing three big black dicks and I could do nothing about the cum that was making my blonde wig hair sticky and staining my white top. It really wasn't far now for me to get home. I was getting away from the roughest part of the neighborhood and, although walking in these stripper heels was not so easy, I was getting used to it and figured that I could probably make it home in less than twenty minutes. I began to hope that the worst of it was over. I'd certainly been punished enough for my transgression with the curvy black babe, having to suck three monster black dicks while dressed as a hot slut. In fact, I was so focused on getting home as quickly as possible and ending this ordeal, that I decided to take a shortcut. Ordinarily I wouldn't cut down this dark, narrow little alley as it had a bad reputation, but it would shave five minutes off my journey in these heels, so I decided to risk it. I couldn't see anybody in the alley, after all, so I could just hurry straight through. That, it turned out, was probably a mistake. I was barely halfway along the alley when a door opened and out stepped a huge, muscular guy. He was black, about twice my age and probably twice my size, enormously tall, broad shouldered and strong. He took one look at me in my slightly disheveled slutty girl outfit and just grinned a big, bad looking smirk. "Well, it looks like it's my lucky day," he said, grabbing me by the arm with his huge, strong, black hands, "I'd just been heading out to look for a naughty little white bitch to stick my fat black cock in and one comes walking straight up to me!" I knew the drill by now and was about to drop to my knees without this latest strong, dominant black thug even telling me to. Apparently it had only taken three huge black cocks to teach me that's where I was supposed to be! This guy wanted something else though. He spun me round and pushed me against some trash cans before bending me over them so my white ass was exposed in my oh so tiny shiny black miniskirt. "I'm gonna nail that tight white whore ass," the guy standing behind me said as he pushed my PVC skirt further up, showing not just my stocking tops but my little red thong where my little white dick was tucked, "You'd better be ready to get hammered by a big black dick, bitch!" He pulled my little red thong aside and exposed my secret. "Well, now there's a surprise," he laughed, "The little white bitch is really a man," he grabbed my tiny white junk in his big black hand, "Well, not so much a man after all," he laughed again, "This little thing can hardly be called a cock. Don't worry, sissy, I'm only after your tight sissy bitch asshole anyway!" I let out a gasp that almost turned to a scream when the enormous black muscle man behind me pulled open my smooth white ass cheeks and stuck his fat black finger inside my hole. This stud's finger was about as thick and long as my puny white dick and my tight ass clenched around it until it filled me up and left me short of breath. I felt stretched by just the thick black finger, as he added a second and began to finger fuck my fragile puckered pink hole I began to think that I might just be able to take a little white dick like my own, but how could I ever manage a huge black snake like this guy was sure to have? Still bent over the garbage can with my exposed ass in the air, being finger fucked by two big black fingers, I turned back to the towering black stud standing over me with a begging expression on my face. There were tears in my eyes at the feeling of being violated by this stranger's fingers and the knowledge of something much longer and thicker to come and this was making my mascara run, making me look even more disheveled than before. Unfortunately, I couldn't bring myself to speak, the fingering of my virgin hole had left me so breathless, so all the big black hunk could see in my pleading face was a desire for more. "Don't worry, sissy little white bitch," he said, "We're getting to the main event. I'll tear that white bitch ass in two with my monster nigger cock in no time!" As I looked over my shoulder, he pulled his two fat fingers out of my tight ass and unzipped his pants, whipping out an already erect cock of such a huge girth and length that my eyes widened in amazement. He spat on his hand and used his saliva to lube up his massive beast and then stuck his saliva coated fingers back up inside me, wetting my tight hole in preparation for the fucking I was about to receive. It never even occurred to me, bent over a trash can, with my skirt pushed up and my thong pushed aside, to try an run (not that these stripper heels would let me get very far). I was resigned to my fate, resigned to taking that monster cock. I let out an effeminate squeal loud enough that the whole alley must have heard (hell, my wife back home a few blocks away might even have caught it) as the big black stud behind me pulled my ass open and thrust his hips forward, pushing that enormous fat ebony dick up inside me, penetrating me properly for the first time. I couldn't believe I was actually being fucked, a man, much bigger and stronger than me, was bending me over and screwing my ass like I really was a streetwalking whore. Even with just the head and a couple of inches of his much longer black shaft inside me, I felt painfully filled, completely impaled and utterly in his power. All I could do was bend over, spread my stockinged legs and take it as this big tough black guy started pumping in and out of my virgin white hole. I was gasping, yelping and there were tears running through my mascara and down my cum soaked cheek as he really started pulling out and thrusting deeper and deeper into me. Soon my whole dolled up girly body was being slammed and rocked against the dirty alley garbage can. "Wow, your sissy bitch ass is tight," the big black stud dominating my ass grunted, "It's been ages since my massive black dick has been buried in white meat this tight. You'd better be ready for a pretty massive load!" And then I felt it, my ass not only filled up and stretched out by a monster black dick that was so long it couldn't bury it's whole length inside me, but also by the sticky, slimy juices shooting from it. He didn't stop shafting me as he moaned and grunted and shot his sticky spunk right up inside me, until he finally pulled out and shot one final stream over my ass and my black skirt for good measure. Leaving me bent over the trashcan, with my legs spread, my panties pulled aside and my pale white ass filled with cum and exposed to the world, the complete stranger who'd just taken my anal virginity simply turned his back on me and walked back up the alley and through the door that he had come out of. I was looking really like a well used slut now, with my neat blonde bob wig now in a mess (not helped by some of it being sticky with cum), my vest torn, my vest and skirt with cum stains, my mascara running, my lipstick smudged, cum on my face and even more leaking from my asshole, running down my thighs and onto my stocking tops. Still, I was a few blocks from home and my ordeal was surely nearly over, even if the combination of stripper heels and a just fucked formerly virgin asshole made walking straight and fast a little trickier than usual. Out of the alley, I turned onto a much busier street. Here I wasn't the target of horny muscular black hunks who wanted to use me, I was safe at least from that. What I wasn't safe from was the glances and giggles of everybody I walked past who could see the state I was in and knew just what had been happening. They didn't know I was a good, straight man being punished by his wife. To them I was a shameless slut who wanted to suck all those black cocks and get their tight ass pounded. To them the cum in my hair and running stickily down my thighs was a badge of honor rather than something that made me feel deep shame and humiliation every time a group of passers by whispered and giggled to each other. Walk of Shame Still, I managed to stagger and stumble to almost within sight of my home with no further incidents beyond being a local laughing stock and the humiliating fear that, as I got closer to where I lived, somebody might recognize me beneath my slutty clothes and smeared make up. Fortunately, that didn't happen. What did happen, though, was that, turning into the street where I lived, my path was blocked by four young, tough looking black heavies who eyed me up with a mix of amusement and hungry lust. "Where are you off to in such a hurry, honey?" the one who was probably the leader said, "Are you wanting to take that slutty body of yours round this street here?" "You know," said another, "This pretty little whore looks like she gives it up at the slightest suggestion. It doesn't seem right to let her go without getting involved." "That's right," said a third, "This bitch isn't getting past us until we see what she's given up to our other black brothers in the ghetto." "Yeah," said the last, "So get over here, pretty white whore, and show us what a little slutty white bitch like you can do for four big black studs!" I told them that I wasn't really a slut, that I wasn't really a girl for that matter. I even showed them the little white pecker tucked into my red lace thong, but they just laughed at me and it, saying that was never the part of a "real man". The effect of claiming to be a real man while wearing a skirt and thong was probably never going to work too well, even if it hadn't revealed cum leaking from my newly fucked anus. I swiftly realized that I didn't really have a choice. This was the only route to get to my home. I had to pass through here to get back and that would mean satisfying whatever a group of bigger, stronger, more powerful, more manly men wanted from me. I didn't say anything more, I just didn't offer any resistance when the four guys made a circle around me and each pulled out a huge black cock that alone would have made me humiliated by my puny manhood, even if it wasn't under a cum stained PVC miniskirt! As the four guys all started jerking off, getting their dicks stiffer, harder and even bigger, I reached out and took two in my hands. Within moments, I was on my knees, four monster black cocks all around me, and my hands feverishly masturbating two, then another two, trying to jerk them off all together. The guy that was probably the leader, certainly the one who had the most majestically enormous black baseball bat of a hardon, reached out, grabbed my head by my messy blonde bob and pulled me open-mouthed onto his cock. As I continued to stroke the shafts of two of his friends, I found myself swallowing his monster meat, wrapping my increasingly experienced cocksucking lips around that hard, warm quivering flesh. I gagged as he shoved his enormous meat right into my throat, but this only stopped him for a moment. Pretty soon we were both in a rhythm where I was getting pretty capable of handling that massive black cock, knowing just how much to swallow and taking control of bobbing back and forth on it as my hands switched between jerking the other three hard black shafts. I hate to admit, but I was starting to get into this. This was beginning to feel like the right position for me, I was actually enjoying how much I could make these big black dicks even bigger and harder. But it didn't take long of me drooling and blowing the big black dick in my mouth before the guy that it belonged to wanted more. I had got him nice and slick and now he knew just where he wanted to put it. He let his dick slip from my gasping mouth, giving me just a moment to catch my breath before one of his equally hung black friends took his place, and moved around behind me. Grabbing me by the waist, he pulled me into an all-fours position with my ass in the air. He pushed my tight skirt further up and literally tore my cum stained red thong off me. "I'm gonna get me a piece of this sissy little bitch's tight white ass," he said, "Don't worry, guys, you'll get your turn once my big black dong has torn this bitch in two!" Already wet from the cum of the last guy and with my saliva all over his ebony boner, this guy was able to thrust into me a little more smoothly than the first. That didn't mean, though, that being impaled by massive black sausage didn't feel painful, just that it also felt kind of good. I was kneeling on the corner of my own street, giving my crossdressing ass up to a big black dick, while my hands and mouth were occupied by three more, and I had to confess it felt sort of where I belonged. I had seen so many real cocks today, huge and black, that I could no longer pretend my little white thing was the real deal. Maybe it did belong in skirts and panties, just like maybe I belonged with big black dicks invading me from both ends. As I reached for the two black dicks in my hands and swallowed a third, my body was rocked by being torn into by the hungry, horny black stud behind me. In spite of the humiliation that I was still feeling, or maybe because of it, I felt myself grow stiff beneath my tight shiny skirt. If anything, my dick getting as hard as it could, and as long as it could, just went further to show how inadequate, how effeminate, I was next to these real men with their toned black bodies and hard black cocks. No wonder it was me getting screwed by them and not the other way around. The guy in my ass was pushing deeper and harder until, inevitably, he blew his load right inside me, stepping aside to allow his buddy that had been fucking my face to take his place. Not even concerned about how his friend's cum was running like a river from my stretched out asshole and all over my stained and ripped stockings, he simply got down behind me and shoved his shaft right in. And, as I was getting pounded from behind like the streetwalking whore everyone took me for, I pulled the two other huge black dongs in and began alternating between blowing, licking and sucking them, continuing to stroke their thick veiny chocolate shafts all the time. The guys in my face simply weren't able to wait their turn on my ass, my increasingly hungry oral attentions saw to that. Before their buddy could even blow another jet of cum up into my behind, I felt myself baptized in streams of sticky love juice from the two dicks in front of me. It looked so good, the milky white cum streaming from those jet black dicks, before it slapped me in the face, run from my chin and dripped all over me. It was maybe seeing this that caused the massive black dick that was ramming harder and harder into my round, smooth white ass to reach its climax as well. As I licked the cum, almost involuntarily, from around my lips, I felt another load getting dumped in my ass, filling my sticky hole up just as had already happened twice that afternoon. And then they were done. And seemingly very satisfied with themselves. Letting me lick the remaining salty sperm from their softening chocolate members, the gang of horny black studs put their dicks away and left me on my street corner, dripping with their love juices, dressed like a slut, with my clothes torn and sticky and my cum stained lace thong cast aside. As I sat there collecting my thoughts, my 55 year old neighbor walked by on the way to our apartment building. He looked at the sight that I presented, splayed out on the dirty floor, covered in black man's cum and with my own little pecker making an obvious tent of arousal in my tight cum stained black skirt and just laughed at me. "Evening, Luke," he smirked, "Having a good time? Perhaps we should call you Lulu from now on." As I eventually got to my feet and stumbled up the stairs to my apartment in my stripper heels I knew that this meant the story was bound to be around all my friends and neighbors in no time. And yet still my rock hard arousal wouldn't subside. I had no idea, as I opened the door and entered my own apartment, how my wife would feel when she saw me. Was this what she expected when she dolled me up like a common whore and dumped me in the ghetto? I had to expect that it was, but still she looked a little surprised at my well used slutty look when I opened the bedroom door. Not half as surprised as I was, though, to find her not alone. My hot blonde wife was lying naked in bed, but beside her was a man. Her pale white curves were pressed against the hard black body of an athletic body builder, her hand was on a dick that, even after the mouthfuls of black cock I'd had this evening looked quite something. She just smiled at me. "Oh good, honey, you're home. I thought as you'd enjoyed some black meat, so would I. Maybe you'd like to watch." Walk of Shame Rather that he keep hurting her, Eve moaned in protest as his quick thrusts caused her moisture to pool between her legs as he struck deep and deliberately. A quick glance back told her just how deliberate, his eyes chanting her defeat. She panted against his invasion and a moan escaped her as his fingers moved between her thighs to stroke her sensitive nub in time with his thrusts, building her arousal until she couldn't stop the rock of her hips with him, making her want to scream when he slowed the moment before she could reach her climax, and then started all over again. "You like this," he said as he dipped his fingers back into her wetness, stretching her against his cock, filling her with his movements. "On the floor, like an animal." She gasped as he shoved in deep, and then groaned while his fingers teased. It was like her pussy was the only part of her that existed, and he was exposing it to the best of his ability when her body clamped around him and she came, wetting his cock and crying out as he continued to thrust, forcing her to ride wave after wave of unwanted pleasure while his own release joined hers. Breathing raggedly, Eve stilled, momentarily regaining control as the sensations faded. His weight was on her, his own satisfied breath against her ear as he continued to hold her tightly against him, still refusing to remove himself from the inside of her body. Eve gasped when his recovering manhood twitched within her, it's length filling her as it began to grow once again. "Wait! Wait!" she cried. "I'll say it. I'll say it... I'm... I'm a whore." Amused, he slid his hand over her breast, pausing to tug at her nipple before he moved further up her body, cupping her chin while his finger, still shining with her juices and traced her bottom lip. "Whose whore?" Eve swallowed the knot in her throat, and anything that might have resembled what was left of her pride along with it. "Your... your whore." He'd barely heard her, but smiled anyway as he slowly withdrew his now hard cock from her, and then thrust back in without warning, relishing the look of relief, and then horror on her face. One hand on her hip to brace her and the other moving to knot tightly in her hair, his assault started steady and deep all over again, her protests falling on deaf ears as her body responded accordingly, despite the soreness of her first time. He took his time working her up again, barely teasing the spot that would give her release until she was frustrated and wriggling beneath him, open and ready. He sent her into another bout of soft moans and still not finished, brought her there a second time before succumbing to his own release. Blinded by the haze of her body's every excruciating response Eve barely heard his whispers to her as he finally withdrew, allowing his hands to once again roam over every personal inch of her body, telling her how hot she was before he lifted her into his arms and placed her still quaking body face down on the bed where he moved to straddle her thighs and release her hands. Her arms where as numb as her legs were shaky, and his large hands moved over them, slowly bringing feeling back before he drew them above her head and held them with one hand. His free hand slid beneath her, forcing her bottom to arch against him once again as he slid a knee between her thighs and guided his hard length back to the comfort of her tight, warm wetness. Eve tensed, groaning as she lie prone to another invasion. She mumbled at him, exhausted. "Please, I'm not ready... just..." His tongue came down over her shoulder, followed by his teeth pinching the skin there. His cock slid in and out, pumping as his own legs forced hers wider, sprawling her on the bed while his weight came intrusively over her back, allowing him a deeper angle against her pussy. "My whore," he mocked, "is about to get very used to getting fucked." ................................ When Eve groggily opened her eyes she found her sore, nude body sprawled over a bed in an unfamiliar hotel room. A glance towards the blinds told her it was still dark outside, but that didn't mean anything. It wasn't the first time she'd awoken through the afternoon or into the evening. Each time before his hands had found her the moment she found alertness to tie her up if she resisted and to explore her body until she was soft and compliant beneath him. But this time as she sat up and regarded the room cautiously she found that she was alone, the scent of the burnt out lavender candle mingling with the strong odor of sex that clung to every part of her body. She was covered in it, the memory of his hands and mouth still all over her. On shaking legs she made her way to the bathroom, squinting against the harsh light as she stared in dismay at her reflection in the mirror. Her wavy locks were in disarray and her face was still flushed, her sensitive skin marked with the redness of his kisses and bites from her neck all the way down her chest. The evidence of how thoroughly he'd had her was still sticky between her thighs, mingling with her own and the dried blood he'd drawn from her. Her exercised sex throbbed and she caught herself from stumbling over as she clutched the sink against an aftershock of her assault, which was half painful, half arousing as she remembered the feel of him filling her; taking everything. Unable to cry anymore, Eve reached to turn on the shower, only to find that the water refused to come. Feeling broken and somehow more hurt than she'd been before over the mere thought that he'd deny her even the shower she wanted to wash him away, she made her way back into the room. Somehow she felt that she was truly alone more than she knew it, and the feeling left her more frightened than relieved as she quickly scanned the dim surroundings for her things. She spotted her purse, neatly placed over a bundled jacket on the night stand. She took the purse. The jacket wasn't hers, but soon she began to realize that no matter how hard she looked, she wasn't going to find her clothes. Lifting the jacket she regarded it with disdain, even as she moved her arms through it, pulling it tightly around herself. It barely reached her thighs and reeked of him so badly it was as if he were on her all over again. Shakily grabbing her purse she headed hurriedly to the door, the sound if it unlocking forcing a relieved cry from her lips before she swung it open and looked out into the parking lot with caution. The sun was rising when she spotted her car and she ran to it, her keys fumbling to unlock the door. Safely inside, she breathed raggedly, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she tried to force herself to calm down. Slowly, her eyes focused on her windshield, her heart tightening in her chest when they fell on a familiar sort of white slip of paper with a note. Eve didn't need to get out and reach for it. She could read it perfectly fine from where she was. 'Enjoy your walk of shame, Ms. Hooper. Last night was fun. If I had to go after your brother it wouldn't be nearly as much. Don't make me.— MC.'