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Eric Lacroix

By: markydaysaid



The Gash was the worst beat in town, and being the cop working it meant that you had three options: get promoted and get reassigned, leave the force, or wait to die. Cops had a shorter lifespan in The Gash than a white-girl's virginity did in a rap concert. I had worked this beat once, before I took done a cop-killing drug-dealing Puerto Rican slut named La Zorra and made vice. There was no need for me to come back to this shitty-ass place, but I wanted to. The Gash was my connection to someone I cared about. Someone who needed my help. 

Like Orpheus journeying down to the underworld to rescue that bitch of his, I needed to come back here to save my friend. 

The Gash was easily the most dirty, violent, crime ridden part of Climax City, with a rape and a murder occurring at least once a day, sometimes to the same person, and not necessarily in that order. It was infested with drug-dealers, prostitutes, strip-clubs, and if you dug down into the shit deep enough, human trafficking. 

But what I had come looking for was a little blonde girl with big blue baby eyes and pigtails. I found her working an alleyway behind a strip joint called 'Pornocopia,' wearing the skimpiest little school-girl outfit one could find in the 'slut section' of a Halloween store. I knew the bitch was freshly 18, but from the look of her petite body, cute face, and slender little waist she could have been much younger.

The slut's street name was Candy, but as I sat in my undercover car flipping through her files I saw her real name was Buffy Marie Cumberland. The daughter of a federal judge and a former Swedish supermodel, it was hard to imagine what a rich, privileged little uptown girl was doing down here, but I had pieced her story together. Buffy had started missing classes a few months ago, not long after her eighteenth birthday. When she disappeared entirely her father took out an APB and naturally ever cop in Climax City was diverted from their work to find her, but when sex-tapes of little Buffy Marie Cumberland started popping up on the internet featuring the 'innocent' little bitch doing the most perverse and deplorable things with men, women, and even a few animals, it wasn't long before her daddy decided that his daughter was dead. Thus Buffy Marie Cumberland died, and Candy the Slut was born. 

I honestly didn't give a shit about some rich white-guy's little princess though. I was interested in the man who made her this way.

Leaving my car I strutted across the street with so much swagger it would have been hard not to notice me. Just because I was undercover didn't mean I wasn't looking for attention, and I knew from experience what kind of attention a body look mine could get. I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a 5'6" ebony goddess, the kind niggas would sell out their homies for and white-boys would leave their wives just to get a taste of. My hair was short, straightened, and hung over my left eye in a sexy little bob-cut. My puffy, fat lips practically screamed of my cocksucking skills that could leave a nigga dehydrated. My big, fat titties hung out of whatever tank-top or jacket I put them in, and my hard, chocolate nipples always seemed to poke through regardless of how thick my bra was. 

My ass though, my ass left niggas crying. I had a bubble-butt so big and firm that it was hard finding pants that didn't split whenever I so much as bent over to flash my breasts, and even the pants I had that didn't rip left my cheeks popping out like a second cleavage. When I had sex my ass was like an earthquake, and more than once a month I found myself apologizing to some brother for breaking his bed-frame and waking up all his neighbors. 

I wasn't fat though, and any cracka who thought so just hadn't seen a real goddess in the flesh before. I was up in the gym five times a day, doing squats and curls until my sweaty breasts showed trough my tight leotard. My stomach was tight and toned, my waist was as narrow and curved as any white bitch's, and my 'fat' ass had enough muscle in it to crack a man's skull like a wallnut. I was a big, beautiful, black powerhouse of authority, as this little bitch named Candy was about to find out. 

"Hey girl," Candy was saying to a passing stripper on her way to work. "You need to score some Ero? I can get you whatever you need. Oral-Ero, snorted-Ero, injection-Ero, suppository-Ero. However you wanna take it."

The stripper bit her lip reluctantly as she looked the little piece of jailbait over. "How old are you kid?"

"Old enough to know just how wet my pussy cat get when I'm on Ero. C'mon girl. This shit makes everything better. Sex is better. Masturbation is better. Food is better. I bet your dancing would be better on it too. Imagine what a show you'd put on with hundred milligrams of Ero pumping through you sexy ass." 

The stripper still seemed reluctant, but she was obviously tempted. "How do I know you've got the real shit?"

Candy giggled and rolled her eyes. She tugged down her tiny, pleated skirt and flashed the stripper with the sight of her hairless little pussy. Right above her vaginal mound was tattooed a little black fleur-de-lis. 

"See," Candy said. "You know who I work for. His shit is the best, because his shit is the original."

The stripper was breathing heavily, her big tits almost popping out of her leather corset. "A-a-okay! How much for a couple hits?"

"$100 a hit. No discounts."

"Whu-wh-one hundred dollars! That's fucking loco! Blow ain't more than $20 a hit!"

"Then go buy some blow and stop wasting my time." Candy spun on her little heels and started to walk away, shaking her perky little ass. 

"Wait! Okay, fine. Fuck!" The stripper reached into the front of her skirt, right into her crotch, and pulled out a crumpled fifty dollar bill. "All I got is fifty. Split a hit?"

" . . . fine." Candy giggled. She reached into her very small blouse and took out a single white pill from her bra. She then stuck out her little pink tongue and put the pill on it. The stripper leaned down, almost at a ninety degree angle, to give the little blonde slut a big, deep, lesbian kiss. The pill dissolved between their writhing tongues and quickly saturated their brains with a chemical reaction unlike any other, creating a euphoria that only Aphrodite at her absolutely horniest could create. 

The women broke their kiss, a thin strand of saliva breaking between them. Each woman was blushing and panting loudly, as if already in the throes of an intense orgasm. Candy whimpered childishly as a thin trickle of cum started to leak down her leg and tears swelled out the corner of her big blue eyes. The stripper was heaving so hotly that her breasts fell out of her tight corset, her nipples so hard and erect that they could have cut glass. 

"Holy . . . fucking . . . shit . . .," the stripper moaned, tugging on her nipples. "This is the dopest fucking Ero ever."

"Ta-ta-told you," Candy squeaked, ready to piss herself. "Daddy Lacroix's shit is the best-"

"Did someone say Lacroix?" I interrupted, swaggering up to the two horny bitches. "As in Eric Lacroix? That is soooooo interesting," I said in a mocking, nasally white-girl voice. "I've been looking for him everywhere. Any idea where he at?"

"Fu-fu-fuck you, cop!" the stripper said to me, backing away a little, although her legs were so wobbly she couldn't get very far. "You should know pigs ain't welcome here."

"Who says I'm a cop?" I asked, but I had to admit, it was obvious I was a cop. I was in plain clothes: a super tight tank-top, a jacket that revealed all of my ebony cleavage, and a tight skirt that I hoped to God wouldn't rip because it cost a lot. But even without a badge visible my whole swagger just screamed 'COP.' No, actually, my swagger screamed 'TOP BITCH!'

"Ge-get the fuck out of here, pig!" The stripper screamed, still experiencing a hot, chemically induced orgasm. She reached into her little purse and pulled out a knife, but I was way faster than her.

sssSSSHINK! 

THUD!

My collapsible police baton flicked open from my wrist, and I swung it up between her legs so fast and hard her feet almost left the ground. The feeling of being cunt-punted by a metal baton must have been so painful her mind simply snapped, because although her eyes went big and she opened her mouth to scream, no sound came out. She slunk to her knees, holding her busted pussy with both hands, and I grabbed her by the sides of her head. 

CRACK!

My knee stuck her right in the face, and she snapped back against the dirty pavement unconscious, but still writing orgasmically. Ero was a hell of a drug. 

Candy squealed and made a run for the alley, but her little legs were so unsteady that she could barely move straight at all. I casually walked after her, swaying my juicy hips like the boss I knew I was. There was a chain-link fence at the end of the alley, and silly little Candy was actually trying to climb over it. For a clumsy little slut in high-heels and half out of her mind on drugs, she was actually doing pretty well. By the time I caught up to her she was shaking her peachy ass at my face's level. Her skirt had ridden up her willowy waist, revealing the kinkiest little pair of thong-panties with a childish heart pattern on them. She really did look like some pedophile's fantasy come to life. 

I reached up and grabbed her hips, laughing dominantly as I did so. "Caught ya."

"Le-le-let me go!" she cried. Really, she was crying. 

"Okay." But before I did I leaned in and planted a big, wet kiss right on the front of her panties, flicking at her little pink clit with my tongue as I did so. I knew how powerful Ero was, and I also knew how to eat pussy like a champ, so when I pulled back Candy was cumming like a waterfall. Her panties soaked through instantly as she pissed herself with cum, making a puddle of clear liquid between my legs. I chose that exact moment to let go and she fell to the asphalt like a bag of wet clothes. 

She made a pathetic little grunt as her body hit the ground, and she whimpered as she struggled to her wobble knees. She looked up at me with big, blue, tear-filled eyes, but all she saw was my stun-gun pressing against her little tits. 

ZAP!

#####

When Candy finally woke up she found herself in a dark, dirty room with a single window that had been boarded up, a stained bed, a table, and an uncomfortable chair, which I had handcuffed her to. I had also stripped her completely naked. The only thing she had left was the girly hairclips keeping her pigtails up and some pink lip-gloss. I had tossed her clothes all around the room, but her bra and panties I left on the table right in front of her, along with all the drugs I had discovered after doing a very thorough cavity search. The little slut had been packing almost a dozen different kinds of Ero. Powdered-Ero for snorting like cocaine, crystallized-Ero for smoking like Meth, pill-Ero for ingesting, and even suppository-Ero for shoving up your ass.

"Tell me about Ero," I said. I was standing behind her so she couldn't see me, but I was close enough that she could feel the almost physical waves of hot, bitchy dominance I radiated with. 

"You can't do this," she whimpered. "This . . . this isn't legal!"

"Neither is dealing Ero," I said. 

"Where . . . (sob) . . . where am I?"

I paced the room, letting her hear the heavy falls of my high-heeled shoes, but I never let her see me. "This is called a 'dirty room.' It's an off-the-books place cops in Climax City use to interrogate and hold suspects we don't want showing up on the record." 

Candy's legs were trembling. "Are . . . are you going to kill me?"

I let me fingers gently brush the back of her neck. "That's really up to you, sweetie. Now tell me about Ero."

She sobbed, a little uncontrollably at first, but she choked it back to talk. "It's a drug, okay! It's an aphrodisiac, the most powerful ever made. One hit gets you horny as hell. Two hits can make you fuck all night. Three hits turn you into a mindless sex-zombie fuck-freak, for like, forever! Four hits . . . four . . . any more than three can kill you."

I rested my hands on her slender shoulders and massaged them. "Good girl," I whispered almost sexually. "Now tell me about Lacroix."

She sobbed again. "He'll . . . he'll kill me."

I brought my hand around her neck and very slowly, very gently scraped my fingernail against the skin of her neck. I didn't say anything but the gesture spoke for itself. 

"Lacroix . . . Daddy . . . he was fucking my friend at school. Like, really FUCKING her. She kept coming to class totally out of her mind, and just stank of sex. She was high on Ero almost every day. She got me into it, and I left school to go work for him. I sell his drugs and act in his movies, and he . . . he made me a woman. He . . . he was so amazing. He's . . . I think he might be a god."

I couldn't help but laugh. Eric Lacroix had a reputation for being charismatic and charming, but god-DAMN he knew how to fuck with a bitch's mind. 

Candy was wiggly a lot, and not completely out of fear either. I could tell she was horny, and that just talking about Erin Lacroix was making her little pink pussy drip. I didn't like that. A successful interrogation meant staying in control, in control of everything. That included the subjects emotions. If this slut was hornier for Lacroix than she was afraid of me then this wasn't going to work. 

I tossed a few photographs onto the table. They were all of a single subject: a beautiful young woman with tan skin, high cheekbones, and curly brown hair. Even her imaged burned with a certain vibe that might be called her 'Latin Passion,' but that simple fact of it was that this woman was one of the most genuinely beautiful people to ever walk the earth.

"Tell me about her," I said, sounding harsher. "You've seen her?"

Candy nodded. "That's Daddy's favorite bitch. That's why she wears his golden collar." Candy pointed to a very expensive looking dog collar that the woman was wearing in some of the photos. "Her name is . . . Alexandra I think?"

"Alessandra," I corrected her. "Alessandra Martinez."

Candy tried to look back at me, but I was too much in the shadows for her to see. "Do you know her?"

I didn't answer her question. Instead, I slowly walked around the edge of the table, letting the naked little tart see that she wasn't the only one nude in the room. Well, I did have something on. I was still wearing my wicked high-heeled shoes, and around my big bubble butt I had a tight leather g-string and attached to that hung the biggest, thickest, blackest dildo that money could buy. It stuck out from my ebony body even further than my fat, firm tits did, like a big snake looking for something to eat. Candy couldn't take her eyes off of my rubber weapon. She was gasping and crying a little. 

"Here's the deal, bitch," I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "You're going to call up that strip-joint you work at, the one that I know Lacroix visits every fucking night to sell Ero, and you're going to tell them that you're sick. But good news! You friend Tanya is going to cover for you."

"Ta-ta-Tanya-"

"Tanya Washington. That's me. Officer Tanya Washington, but you're not going to tell them that part of course. Wouldn't be much of a sting operation if they knew I was a cop. You're going to switch places with me tonight, and I am going to bust Lacroix in the act, and he is going in the cell-block so deep that no one will be able to hear him screaming as Big Bubba rapes his tight, white, ass!"

Candy was biting her lip and staring angrily at me. "And if I refuse?"

I laughed and smiled wickedly. "Oh, you see, Jerome (that's what I named by giant black dildo) was REALLY hoping you'd say that. He was really hoping you'd be a stubborn little bitch, because Jerome knows that I ain't got time for stubborn little white bitches, like you are being right FUCKING now! And if you don't start being a cooperative little girl, I'm just going to have to let Jerome take over." I pressed the bulbous head of the dildo forward, causing it to push into her chubby little cheek. "And Jerome just loves stubborn little white girls. He loves fucking the living SHIT out of them." 

Candy looked terrified of me, and of Jerome, but not so much as she was absolutely in love with Lacroix. "Go ahead," she said. "I've had sex with Eric Lacroix. I've had sex with a god. I can do anything."

And that was exactly what I was afraid of.

I sighed. "Fine." 

I grabbed a packet of powdered-Ero, tore it open, and then with my other hand I reached down to one of her little pink nipples and I twisted it like I was trying to rip it off. Candy inhaled sharply, getting ready to scream in pain, and she inhaled the hit of Ero I held up to her nose. Instead of screaming she coughed, sending a small puff of white powder into the air. She coughed and heaved but it was no use, I could tell the drug was already having an effect on her.

"That's one hit," I said. 

Candy mewled like a horny little kitten as the drug sunk in. She started to wiggle in her seat hard, trying to grind her swollen clit against the surface, but that's not what I had planned for her. I grabbed a small Ero-pill from the table, and shoved it right into her mouth. She made a cute little choking sound as her eyes went wide with shock, and she tried to push the pill back out with her tongue. I wasn't going to let her get off that easy though. I pressed my hips forward, jamming the wide head of Jerome into her little pink mouth, pushing the pill down her throat along with the first six inches of wide, black rubber dick. The drug was already taking an even greater effect as I grabbed the back of her head and began to fuck her throat. 

"That's two hits."

The look on her face disgusted me. She looked retarded, like her brains had just been fried and all she was left with was the knowledge of what to do when a cock was down her throat, and even that she sucked out. She gagged on choked on Jerome, spit bubbling out of her nostrils as her cheeks went blue, but the Ero wouldn't let her stop, and neither would I.

I pulled out, the dildo making a long, sick, slurping sound as it came free, long strands of salvia dangling from Candy's over-fucked face. I leaned down to undo her handcuffs, and once she was free and pulled on her pigtails until she was standing. Her wiggling body was hard to manage, but I threw her head first across the dirty bed in the corner, and she instantly assumed the position of a cock-hungry slut with a dripping, ravenous little pussy spread wide open for me. Her legs were actually shivering, she wanted it so bad.

I was going to give it to her, but not exactly in the way she wanted.

I plunked another Ero-pill from the table and strutted over to where my little slut was waiting for me. Using my thumb, I jammed the pill into the tight, mostly-virginal hole of her little, white ass.

"Na-NO!" she squeaked. "Not a third hit! I . . . I don't want-"

"Shut the fuck up!" 

I pressed Jerome's spit-lubricated head against the tight opening of her anus, pushing the pill is slowly. I grabbed both of her pigtails, and pulling her head back I slammed my hips forward, burring all ten inches of my biggest, blackest cock deep into her slender, pink body. Her head came back so far that I could look her right in her big, baby blue eyes as the drug set in, and her mind shattered. 

"That's three hits."

##### 

Hours later I emerged from the shower, wiping down my voluptuous body with a fresh towel I had brought with me. They dirty room's bathroom was as equally filthy and disgusting as its name implied, but after the sweaty work of breaking my new bitch into shape I desperately needed a shower, and a little soap and hot water could do wonders for a girl. 


Eric Lacroix Ch. 02



(All characters in this story are 18 or older. Those characters mentioned to be in high school are seniors, and also 18.)

The Gash had always been the worst part of town, the worst of the worst. A black and grey scab festering with violent crime and disease ridden prostitutes, it was an urban labyrinth filled with monsters and ghosts that the rest of Climax City simply ignored. The gleaming glass towers of the wealthier part of town peaked over the dirty smoke-stained roofs of the Gash's industrial skyline, always condescending to it like Heaven itself to a pile of shit. 

But things had started to change. A new drug was getting passed around, a new drug called Ero that got your heart racing, your blood moving, your mind expanding, your pussy wet, and your dick hard. Ero did everything you wanted it to and it did it right.

There was only one supplier of Ero in the city, and indeed the world, so needless to say that this man was becoming very, very rich, and he was using his invention to turn the Gash into his own little kingdom, building nightclubs and high-end stores, renovating apartment buildings and funding beatification projects. The Gash was going to become this man's personal paradise. 

But to make a paradise out of a shithole, you had to get rid of all the shit.

#####

Inside a hot, humid strip-joint on the Gash called Santa Puta, a man simply called Sancho was grinding up some white powder with a razor blade. Sancho was the proprietor of Santa Puta, and a drug-dealer besides. For much of his adult life money, drugs, and easy pussy rolled through his hands like water from a tap, but that tap was starting to run dry, and Sancho was a thirsty man. He was not dealing with the drought well.

The door to his dirty office swung open and in walked one of his bottom bitches, a tall chica with smooth tan skin, long black hair, puffy cock-sucking lips, and giant fake tits. The only thing she was wearing was a microscopic red thong, transparent plastic high-heels, and a sparkling layer of body-glitter. Her nipples were dark and erect from sexual frustration. She hadn't gotten fucked properly in a week, which for a woman like her was a very, very fucking long time. Sancho had been having trouble getting it up lately, and there hadn't been many customers in Santa Puta looking for expensive pussy. 

"Shouldn't you be working the pole, Malinche?" Sancho growled. His eyes were red. He hadn't slept in days. 

Malinche sneered. "Damn, Sancho. There ain't be a single paying customer all day. What the fuck? I use to pull a grand a night in this place, and now these cheap drunks won't even slip me a single."

Sancho growled. "It's that fucking white boy. Eric Lacroix. Muthafucker's been buying up every venue in The Gash and getting all the talent. Faggot's trying to . . . uh . . . 'gentrify' us out of business. It's all because of that fucking drug of his. Faggot use to be some kind of chemistry wiz in college before he dropped out. Heard he was a real nerd or something. Speaking of which, try this, bitch."

Sancho held up a knife with the white powder on it. 

Malinche sneered. "What is it? That don't look like blow."

"Just snort it, bitch. Damn."

The big-titted whore did as she was told, leaning over until her massive breasts rested on the cold surface of his table, her nipples hardening from the cold. She ran her nose over the blade and snorted the drug. Instantly she felt like sneezing, throwing up, and coughing at the same time.

"What . . . what the fuck is this shit?" she whined, sneezing. 

Sancho looked downcast. "It's . . .it's something I've been working on. Something that'll get your pussy wet."

Malinche was sticking out her long, talented tongue as she tried to clear her sinuses of the disgusting powder. "It's fucking gross, papi. Ain't you got any Ero?"

"Ero? Ero? ERO!!" Sancho seethed with rage as he banged his fist against the table. "Ero's the whole fucking reason we're being ruined! Ero is what that faggot Eric Lacroix's been making all his money with! You fucking slut! Have you been snorting Ero? Fucking whore!" 

Sancho reached into his desk and pulled out a gun, aiming it directly at Malinche's face. She wailed and tripped over her own long legs, falling onto the closest sex-stained couch, her limps flailing and her breasts bouncing.

"No! Papi, please! I only just did it a couple times, and I didn't even pay for it! Please, daddy, I didn't-"

But her hysterical, pathetic begging was cut off as the door to the office swung open once again, and this time entered two more beautiful women, but these two were very different from a dirty cock-sucker like Malinche. For one thing, they were fully dressed . . . mostly. 

The first was a tall, slightly tanned Hispanic woman with stylish curly brown hair that bounced above her shoulders. She wore a very tight white suit, the pants being so tight that they looked painted on her slender legs and athletic ass. She wore a small white blazer over her firm, perky breasts, but that was it. Her open jacket revealed nothing underneath, nothing by a couple gold chains that hung tantalizingly down her soft cleavage. She had a cocky, arrogant smirk on her face, and her large eyes sparkled behind a pair of $5,000 dollar sunglasses. 

The second was a voluptuous black woman with a short, style pixie-cut and the most sexual swagger Sancho had ever seen in a bitch. Her clothing was a tight, formfitting dark blue business-suit, so formfitting that it was almost pornographic. Her breasts were captivating to look at and her ass swayed like a wrecking ball, and even Sancho finally felt his dick getting hard for the first time in weeks just looking at her. The cleavage of her suit was open very wide, revealing a ridiculous amount of smooth, shiny cleavage. On her left tit above her heart she had a tattoo, a black fleur-de-lis.

Sancho recognized the symbol immediately, and he knew who these two bitches belonged to.

"You're Lacroix's girls," Sancho said, breathing so hard he spat a little. "You're his . . . what does he call you . . . his Queens?"

The two women looked at one another friendly enough, smiling softly, but a feral tension was sparking between them. These two were rivals, lionesses fighting for the same position in the pride. 

"Alessandra Martinez, the White Queen," the women in the open jacket said, snarling slightly as if it disgusted her to say her name to someone like Sancho, someone she obviously thought was a piece of shit.

"Tanya Washington, the Black Queen . . . obviously" the black goddess said, her name rolling off her tongue like she was eating melted chocolate. "Officer Tanya Washington."

The black woman dropped something heavy onto the desk. It was a police badge. 

"What the fuck?" Sancho asked. A large vein was pulsing in his forehead. "What the fuck is this? Lacroix had cops working for him? Fucking cops?"

"We've been sent here today to tell you that Mr. Lacroix is very interested in buying your establishment," Tanya said, affecting an obviously insincere voice. "He's already purchased most of the businesses in the area and you seem to be one of the last holdouts."

Sancho was grating his teeth and sweating profusely. His hand was getting so slippery that he felt his grip on the gun becoming uneven. The bitches didn't even seem to be bothered by the fact that he was armed, like they thought they were immortal or something. That really pissed Sancho off. People use to fear him, respect him, and now cops were coming into his office and telling him about his business. The implications of what Tanya said were obvious. Lacroix wanted him to sell. Lacroix wanted to turn Santa Puta into another one of his flashy clubs. Well Sancho wasn't going to let that happen. The Gash had been a hellhole and a terrible place to live, but it was his home. Santa Puta was his home. He wasn't going to let some white boy wannabe-gangster with a chemistry degree ruin that for him.

"I ain't selling-"

"Good," Alessandra cut him off. She quickly withdrew a small gun with a very large silencer from her jacket at aimed it directly at his face, shooting him twice in the skull. The gun made a small thumping sound, like a book falling on the ground, thanks to the silencer's noise-suppression. The entry wounds in his forehead and face were so small that they were almost invisible, but the back of his head exploded like a watermelon, splashing the entire wall with chunks of red and grey. 

"Your place will sell for a lot less at police auction," Alessandra smiled.

Malinche screamed. "AAAHHH! Holy fuck! Holy shit! You murdered him! Papi!"

"Damn," Alessandra hissed. "I forgot that bitch was there."

Malinche grabbed a bong from off the table and attacked the Alessandra with it, but the slender beauty was too fast for the big-tittied whore. Alessandra spun, and launched a perfectly executed kick across Malinche's face, cutting her cheekbone open as the sharp heel of Alessandra's shoe hit her. 

Malinche crashed across Sancho's desk, her big fake tits landing with two loud PLOPS, and her juicy ass waving up behind her, offering a very tempting target. 

Malinche felt her tiny thong being pushed down, and then something cold, metallic and hard pushed against her swollen lips. She was so horny (even after witnessing her pimp's death) that the metal shaft entered her pussy like a hot knife cutting into butter, and she was instantly dripping down it and onto Alessandra's hand. 

"Like that bitch?" Alessandra asked, whispering into Malinche's ear as she held the whore down. Alessandra started moving the metal cylinder in and out, slowly fucking the whore with a steady rythm. "Do you like getting fucked by the gun that just killed your papi?"

Malinche's eyes went wide as she gasped. She craned her head to see in the dirty mirror on the wall that Alessandra wasn't kidding. The White Queen was fucking her up her pussy with the silencer of her gun, and her finger was still on the trigger.

"Oh . . . oh please," Malinche begged, tears streaming down her face. "Please don't . . . please don't-"

"Well you better cum then," Alessandra said in a hot, husky voice. "You better cum your fucking brains out, otherwise I'm going to feel bad about myself."

Despite the fact that she had a loaded gun up her snatch and she was getting raped inches away from the corpse of the man who owned her, Malinche was in fact getting wetter and hotter by the second. Danger had always excited her, ever since she was a teenager and her first orgasm came from riding her boyfriend's motorcycle while he did a drive-by that killed three rival gang-members and one innocent bystander. Malinche had fucked his brains out that night. She loved him, until Sancho killed him. Then she loved Sancho. Now . . . now she guessed she loved this crazy bitch. 

"This bitch isn't getting wet enough for me," Alessandra complained. "I like my bitches real fucking wet. Tanya, give her a hit of Ero."

Tanya broke out a small cigarette case, but instead of a cigarette out came a tiny bag of sparkling white powder. She held it up to Malinche's nose and as the whore panted and gasped she breathed it in, and within milliseconds her body was transformed into a divine, spiritual machine of sexual energy. The colors in the room came alive with erotic vigor, especially the red of Sancho's blood, and she could feel he departing soul ejaculating into her mind. Suddenly she melted into a single, infinite universe of orgasmic bliss, and all of her negative feelings about life were washed away as her nipples grew harder than diamonds and her pussy started to leak like a waterfall. 

"Oh . . . oh fuck . . . yes . . . OH MY FUCKING GOD YESSSSSS!!"

Malinche was cumming her fucking brains out, drenching Alessandra's gun, hand, and the floor with her sputtering, squirting pussy-juice. She was shivering and rolling around, her body quaking with mind-breaking pleasure, and she was now crying tears of joy instead of fear. 

As she slowly came down from her messy orgasm (which had lasted several minutes) she smiled weakly and forgot about Sancho. 

"I . . . I came," she said, grateful and reverent of her new mistress. 

Alessandra snickered evilly. "Yeah, you fucked my gun real hard. I think it's going to cum too."

Malinche's eyes went wide when she realized what Alessandra meant. 

"But . . . no! I love-"

"Oh no!" Alessandra said, faking an orgasm and pretending the gun was a penis. "I'm cumming!"

Alessandra pulled the trigger. She pulled the trigger until the gun went 'click.'

#####

"You're a real twisted bitch, you know that?" Tanya said as they walked back out into Santa Puta, which was a rather small and claustrophobic club with ugly red lights and a sticky floor.

"Yeah. That's why Daddy loves me more," Alessandra said, wiping down the barrel of her silencer with a cloth. 

"I just don't think it was necessary to kill her. At least not like that."

"Daddy said no witnesses. He doesn't want this 'unfortunate incident of gang related violence' to get in the way of his acquisition of the block. With things the way they are now the city will be grateful that an entrepreneur philanthropist like him has taken oa interest in the Gash. And besides, I thing you're starting to enjoy the wet-work just as much as I do."

"Bullshit!" Tanya protested. "I do not enjoy-"

At just the moment the door to club sung open and in walked a petite little stripper with big fake tits who couldn't have been much older than 19. Her black hair was done up in pigtails, and her nipples were covered by pink pasties in the shape of stars. She looked at Tanya and Alessandra and instatnly knew something was wrong.

"What's going on?" the little stripper asked. "Where's Sancho? Where's Malinche? What are you two-"

Tanya instinctively reached out and grabbed the girl's chin with one hand and the back of her head with the other. She spun her hands around so fast that the girl's pigtails flew up. 

SNAP!

The stripper fell to ground dead.

Alessandra laughed as she left the club, walking over the girl's corpse. "See? You loved that!"

Tanya grumbled. "No I didn't."

"Whatever killer," Alessandra made a little gun gesture with her finger and thumb and pretended to shoot Tanya. "We should split up. Daddy wants us to 'buy' two more clubs tonight and it's getting late. The Amazon and Wildcatz."

"I'll take the Amazon. I'm a friend of the owner and I'd like to acquisition it WITHOUT killing anyone."

Alessandra snorted. "Whatever dyke. You would want to go to the lesbo bar. Alright, well I'm off to start another bloodbath. Later, bitch." Alessandra blew Tanya a kiss and strutted out. 

"Crazy freak," Tanya said, reassuring herself that she hadn't become as twisted and insane as Alessandra had in their time working for Eric Lacroix, but as she walked over the 19 year old's body she didn't give it a second thought, when one year ago it was her job to investigate and avenge such crimes. But that was why she was helping Lacroix. Once he turned the Gash into a respectable part of the city the violent crime and forced prostitution would plummet. That's what she told herself. In reality, all she was thinking about was getting home as soon as possible, so she could get on her knees, stick her big ass in the air, and take her Daddy's big fat cock like the good little girl she was. 

#####

The Amazon was a lesbian dance club, and for a place on the Gash it wasn't that bad. People knew each other, the drinks weren't spiked, and no one ever got shanked in the parking lot. There were fights of course, Tanya had been in a few, but they often ended with some very hard, very hot, very angry sex afterwards. The Amazon catered to a certain kind of lesbian: young, horny, and more than a little aggressive. It had been her favorite place to go after Alessandra left her for Eric Lacroix, because it was an easy place to work off some steam and get some easy strange. Now . . . now it was just going to be another notch in Lacroix's belt, and she was okay with that.

Illyria, the owner, an attractive by aged lesbian of about 45, was at the bar. Her large breasts were covered by a flimsy, dirty t-shirt and her wavy brown hair was tied up in a ponytail. In her twenties she had been a bombshell and regularly turned down marriage proposals from millionaires and movie stars, but she was the kind of girl who was only happy when she was eating out a fresh pussy or some bitch was eating out her, so she married a rich chump, divorced him, and used the settlement money to build the Amazon. 

"Hey Illyria," Tanya said as she walked into the club, expecting it to be closed. "I need to talk to you about selling to Eric Lacroix. Don't be mad at me but I really need you to do this and I promise that-"

And that's when she realized something was wrong. It was 4am, one hour after closing, but the club was full. Stranger, it was full of people who were silent, still, and clearly not there for a fun time. 

They were all women, and every single one of them were wearing outfits like something from an sadomasochist's nightmare mixed with a punk-rock concert. Lots of leather, latex, straps, buckles, bodices, thongs, tight jeans, ripped t-shirts, and wild haircuts. Nothing unusual about that (other than it wasn't punk-rock night or S&M night), but they were also all carrying weapons. Chains, knives, brass knuckles, baseball bats, and crowbars. This was a gang, only it wasn't a gang that Tanya had ever seen before. 

"Tanya," Illyria gasped. "You shouldn't be-"

"Tanya Washington!" a raspy, bratty young voice said. "The Black Queen! Eric Lacroix's cop bitch! How nice of you to join us. We were just talking to Illyria about the same thing. It seems she's been thinking about selling the Amazon to Lacroix and letting him expand his little empire."

The one talking was a slender girl sitting in a stool by Illyria, with her back facing Tanya. She had an attractive body, a young one, that was the rare mix of curvy and petite by the look of her narrow, swooping waist and heart-shaped ass. Her midsection was totally bare, but her upper body was covered by a short, tight leather jacket studded with spikes, and her buttocks was covered by the smallest, tightest little leather booty-shorts that had even been made. Her perky butt was less than half covered by them, and her firm globes stuck out like a peach begging to be eaten. She had blue spiky hair with long bangs and her ears had were filled with piercings, but because she was facing away Tanya couldn't see much else. 

Tanya realized that the punk-rock dominatrix bitches were circling her, closing the door from behind. One put a hokey stick into the door to jam it. 

"I don't know who the fuck you little girls think you are," Tanya said. "But Eric Lacoix is not a man you can fuck with, and I am the last bitch on earth you want to piss off!"

"We don't want to fuck with Lacroix," the blue-haired girl said. She had a voice like a tomboy going through puberty, raspy and a little sweet. "We just want Lacroix to share."

"Share?" Tanta laughed. "Lacroix doesn't share."

"I know," the girl said, sounding annoyed. "He's been buying up every little inch of our favorite playground, pushing out all the fun freaks and geeks that make this place special, and he's been replacing them with hoity-toity rich bitches, poseurs, and douche-bags. He's wants to turn the Gash into the trendy part of town where all the trust-fund hipsters can drink microbrews and high-rolling Wall-street fuckers can spend $1,000 on a lap-dance. He's trying to take away our home."

"Your home?" Taya sneered. "I've never even seen any of you sluts before. Shit! Most of you look like your barely out of high school!"

"Some of us aren't," the girl giggled in a sardonic voice.




Eric Lacroix Ch. 02



"Tanya," Illyria said, sounding on the verge of tears. "A lot's changed in the last year. While you've been with Lacroix things have gotten bad. People have been getting angry. These kids-"

THUD!

As Illyria tried to stand up the girl socked her in the gut. Her fist sunk so deep that Tanya could only see the wrist. Illyria fell to her knees, coughing so hard she probably would have vomited if her stomach had been full. 

"Bitch!" Tanya screamed! "Who are you?"

The girl swiveled on her stool and hopped off. Tanya now understood why she had never seen the girl before. She was young, maybe somewhere between 19 and 21, too young to have been in the bar scene at the same time Tanya was. She had a graceful slender body and was only about five feet tall, but her breasts were large and round, either being fake or a miracle of genetics. Underneath the leather jacket she wore a skimpy little tank-top that was shredded with holes, and one of her little pink nipples came though. Like her ears, it had a heavy metal stud. She was frankly beautiful, with big sparkling blue eyes and a blindingly perfect smile. It didn't matter that she wore a shitload of mascara and painted her lips black, it was obvious that she was naturally beautiful, and Tanya could just imagine that this little punk bitch could have easily been an all-American cheerleader prom-queen if she had wanted to be.

She was also wearing extremely large brass-knuckles, that looked almost too heavy for her slender arms to carry, but she did so as if they were an extension of her body. Most of their surfaces was studded with rhinestones, making her dangerous weapons look like pieces of gaudy jewelry. 

"The name is Roxanne Rollins, but you can call me Rox'n'Roll. And these tasty, badass hotties I surround myself with are the Furies!"

The girls surrounding the bar whistled and catcalled, cheering their leader as they made lewd and erotic gestures, some flashing their breasts and others sloppily kissing each other. 

Tanya could barely suppress a laugh. "Rox'n'Roll? Furies? Kid, go fuck yourself! Seriously! What the fucking hell are you doing here? You can't just dress up in a bunch of dominatrix-shit and give yourselves a name and be a gang, alright? There is real shit happening on the streets. Murder, rape, drug-dealing. You're not selling cookies with the girl-scouts, you are not safe doing this. Eric Lacroix is not going to put up with this."

"Oh, see, I think he is," Roxanne said, strutting forward with exaggerated swings of her hips, looking back and forth at her girls with a big smile on her face. "Because, I don't remember anyone giving that fucking Cajun douche-bag permission to do whatever he wanted with our playground. He thinks its fairs to just build his own empire and take over an entire environment, so, we think it's only fair if we get to do the same. Lacroix wants the Gash? Too fucking bad. Because we want it too, and we like it the way it is. No rich kids. No yuppies. No hipsters. And no . . . fucking . . . COPS!"

Roxanne was breathing heavily, her perky breasts rising and falling with erotic grace. She was wiggling her slender hips as she talked, obviously becoming excited and aroused. There was a small twinkle of insanity in her eyes as she spoke, but everyone seemed to love listening to her. 

Tanya realized she might be in trouble. 

"You go back to Lacroix," Roxanne said, "and you tell him that the rest of the Gash is ours, that the Amazon is ours, and that we want him to pay us a monthly tribute in cash and Ero, because frankly, honestly, I fucking LOVE that shit, and sincerely, I can't get enough of it, but I ain't gonna pay for it, and I'm sick of beating the shit out of rich girls at my school to get it!"

"You . . . (cough) . . . you can't have the Amazon," Illyria said, struggling to stand up. "It's mine. And I've already decided to sell it to Lacroix. I'm happy that someone is finally cleaning up this miserable shithole, however much of a hypocrite he might be. And I want to retire somewhere nice, somewhere without evil little cunts like you. I'm selling the Amazon to Lacroix tonight!"

Roxanne rolled her eyes and smiled mockingly, biting her lower lip a little. "Mio!"

From the crowd of leather-clad lesbians emerged a tall Japanese girl wearing a fairly conservative private school uniform, except that her skirt was scandalously short, and Tanya could see the bottom of her smooth little ass as she walked. Her long black hair hung straight down her body, framing her porcelain face. She looked to be the same age as Roxanne, except she was a little taller and more mature looking.

Mio walked until she was standing just beside Illyria. Then Tanya saw that Mio was carrying a very long Japanese sword, a katana, at her side. 

"Yes, Roxanne?" Mio said, sounding very obedient.

Roxanne smirked. "Please kill that bitch."

"Yes, Roxanne," Mio smiled softly. "Thank you."

"NO!" Tanya screamed, but it was too late. 

Mio barely seemed to move, but her hair flew up and her wrist spun around the long handle of her katana. There was a flash of light as the blade slid out, and it slashed across Illyria so quickly that it was barely visible. A bust of wind blew Mio's skirt up, revealing her naked inner-thighs. She wasn't wearing any panties. 

Illyria stood there for a moment as if nothing had happened, but then the hair from her ponytail fell to like falling leaves. A red line started to appear around her neck, and her head fell to the floor.

"YOU FUCKING BITCHES!" Tanys screamed, reaching for her gun.

"Mittens!" Roxanne yelled. 

Suddenly there was another little lesbian in front of Tanya. This one was dressed up like some kind of pedophile's wet-dream, although she was no younger than Roxanne. She had bubblegum-pink hair in cute puffy pigtails, a chest as flat as a boy's (absolutely zero tits), wearing a skimpy little pink t-shirt and a frilly skirt that looked like they came from a baby store and were three sizes too small for her. She was even sucking on a big pink pacifier. Unfortunately, she also had two heavy-duty brass-knuckles. 

Mittens punched Tanya in her gut so hard that she dropped her gun, and another Fury kicked it away. Tanya was one of the best female hand-to-hand combatants on the force, and she was sure she could take one perverted little dyke, but she was wrong. She threw a punch and Mittens blocked, then socked her again in the gut. She kicked and Mittens hopped over her leg, smacking her in the tit with a brass-knuckle punch. Tanya tried to use her size and strength to her advantage, swinging her arms down on the baby-bitch, but Mittens raised her arms and took the hits, right before delivering a brutal, perfectly executed uppercut to Tanya's chin.

CRACK!

Tanya fell back and was caught by four groping arms. Her jacket was torn open and her bra was torn off, her big chocolate breasts bouncing free, only to then be battered like a pair of fleshy punching backs by Mittens. Even with that stupid Pacifier in her puckered mouth, Tanya could tell that Mittens was smiling. 

The pink piece of jailbait ended her torture of Tanya by sinking one final, brutal punch into her gut, knocking the air out of Tanya so suddenly that the policewoman thought she was about to vomit her lungs out.

Tanya fell to her knees, and the rest of her clothing was stripped off of her by quick, clumsy hands that groped her swelling breasts, vagina, and buttocks, even spanking her mockingly since she was too weak to resist. 

Two thick leather platform boots stomped in front of her, and she looked up to see Roxanne smiling down her with a big puckered duck-smile, her lips trembling with the urge to laugh, and the lithe muscles of her abdominals flexing slightly. She had a very slender athletic body. She really could have been a cheerleader. 

"Hungry, bitch?" Roxanne asked. "Because I am dying to get my pussy eaten."

Her blue-painted fingernails unclasped the buckle of her leather belt. She flexed slightly, and the zipper of her ridiculously tight booty-shorts nearly ripped open it was in such a hurry to unfurl. She wiggled slightly, and her tight, young, hairless pussy peeked out. Her pussy was so small it was barely there, and she didn't have the ripened, full lips that Tanya had. She barely had any lips at all, and they were the same pale peach color as the rest of her skin with the slightest hue of pink. 

"Of course I can't trust you to be a good little girl and not bite me so . . . Mio."

Tanya heard the hiss of a sword sliding from its sheath, and she felt the diamond edge blade of a Mio's katana gently kissing the back of her neck. 

Roxanne leaned in so close that Tanya could taste her black-licorice toothpaste. "If I so much as feel a tooth, Mio here is going to slice your head off, got it bitch? Oh, and just to make sure that you enjoy this as much as I do . . ."

Roxanne held out her hand, and Mittens placed in it a small packet of sparkling white powder. Tanya knew what it was immediately. Ero! Roxanne used her teeth to tear the packet open, and then she leaned back as she sprinkled it like a pinch of salt onto her vaginal mound. Like snowflakes, the Ero dissolved into her skin, and the small pocket of her pussy began to bloom into a wet pink flower, and her clit popped out like a shiny pink pearl. 

"Let's see if you eat pussy as good as Illyria said you did," Roxanne laughed, grabbing Tanya's head and pulling it in as she pushed her own hips forward. The moment Roxanne's little girl-box touched Tanya's fat, talented lips, the Ero dissolved into both women, exciting their bodies and tickling their libidos into overdrive. For a single conscious moment, Tanya hated Roxanne so powerfully she wanted to bite down, even knowing it was suicide, but the Ero took over and within seconds she was reduced to a horny, hungry snatch-eating dyke. She tried to resist, but despite herself she moaned with satisfaction as her long tongue sunk deep into her girl's tight vagina, pulling back and tickling her g-spot. It didn't help that the punk-bitch's pussy tasted better than a serving of raspberries-and-cream either. It might have been the Ero, but Tanya swore that this was the most wonderful girl-pie she had even eaten. 

Roxanne arched her back and screamed at the ceiling, her voice wavering in a moment of delirious joy. She was cumming a lot sooner than she expected, and she started to grind herself against Tanya's face, even though it caused the cop's teeth to grate against her clit and mound. She didn't care. It all felt like fucking perfect.

Roxanne came down from her first climax with tears in her eyes, black lines of mascara running down her cheeks. She whimpered and leaned over to kiss Mio, who kissed back with desperate force, obviously infatuated with her boss. Roxanne then leaned in the opposite direction, towards Mittens, and the pedo-bait knew what was expected of her. She lifted her shirt revealing two very pink nipples but literally zero breasts, and Roxanne rolled her surprisingly long tongue over the slut's chest.

Mittens then fell to her knees behind Roxanne, pulling her boss's shorts down a little further. Mittens popped her pacifier out, and then pushed the bulb against the tight little hole of Roxanne's anus, using it as a butt-plug. After a moment of struggling Mittens managed to work it in with a wet PLOP. 

This was too much stimulation for Roxanne. 

"Fu . . . fucking . . . this fucking bitch . . . I'M CUMMING!!"

Roxanned came. She came hard.

"You fucking cop BITCH! Fucking PIG! EAT ME!! Eat the best pussy you've ever . . . fucking . . . HAD!"

Roxanne whimpered and cried as she came, but she also roared like a wild lioness, her tight vulva contracted and shooting out a spray of the sweetest nectar Tanya had ever tasted. It splashed across her face, her mouth, and gushed onto her aching chest, which by now felt amazing just like the rest of her body. Simultaneously, Tanya experienced her own orgasm even though she hadn't been physically stimulated in the slightest. She sunk to her ass, her damp pussy slapping against the sticky floor, and despite every impulse of resistance she had, Tanya fell face first to the dirty ground and started to lick up what precious drops of Roxanne's delicious honey remained.

Desperate for more, Tanya looked up, only to see a very pissed-off girl looking back down at her. The Ero-high had just worn off on Roxanne, she had gushed it all out. Her blue eyes were back to those of snarling, feral demoness, and her lovely face contorted in irate disgust. 

"You're fucking repulsive. Just like a pig. You'll eat any shit that's given to you. Do you want more, piggy? Do you want to suck on the pacifier I've got up my ass?"

Tanya cried when she couldn't stop herself from saying " . . . yes . . . please."

Roxanne spat on her face. 

Tanya blinked, and when she looked up all she saw was the bottom Roxanne's boot coming down on her face. 

#####

When Tanya woke up she figured it had all been a dream. She was back in her room at Eric's presidential suite, the one he had on the top of the high-end hotel he had purchased a few months ago using money he routed through a dozen impossible to follow foreign channels. She was comfortable, resting on a soft featherbed filled with real goose-feathers, underneath sheets of Egyptian cotton with a thread-count higher than most people thought was possible. 

But as she slipped from the bed and looked at her naked, voluptuous form in her full-body mirror, she realized it hadn't been a dream. Her big, round breasts were blotched with dark bruises, and a small white bandage was covering her nose. The word 'WHORE' had been written on her forehead in permanent ink, and although it looked like Eric (or one of his servants) tried to clean it off, the impression remained.

She nearly stumbled as she walked out of her room, wandering the long hallways of Eric's apartment fully in the nude. She came across a maid, one of several pretty little sluts Eric had imported from Asia. Her uniform was pornographic in its skimpiness, but she was nevertheless expected to clean like an actual maid, albeit Eric got to rape the shit out of her whenever he felt like it, which was often. 

When the petite Asian fuck-piece saw Tanya she smiled nervously. 

"Miss Tanya you're-"

Tanya put her hand over the girl's face and pushed her away so hard she went flying into the next room, knocking over something expensive, which broke over her head. 

Tanya finally came to Eric's room, which was guarded by two massive golden doors stolen from a museum specializing in ancient Egypt. There were actual guards as well, both being attractive women with stylish hairstyles in smart, tight suits. They wore sunglasses at all times (Eric liked the look) and hanging from their curvy hips were semiautomatics, which they were both more than familiar using. One was ex SPETSNAZ, and the other had been a Columbian smuggler before Eric recruited them with money, Ero, and his giant cock. 

"Black Queen," one of them nodded.

Tanya didn't even acknowledge them as she walked into her king's chambers. 

And there he was. Her king, her master, her lover, her god. Eric's back was turned to her. His muscular, perspiring back was glistening erotically in the blue light that came from the moon outside his massive windows. Over half of his room was windows, and there were no blinds or any way of covering them. Eric wanted to show his perfection to the world, and when he fucked he wanted to feel like he was fucking the Earth itself beneath him. 

But what was actually beneath him was the very inadequate form of Alessandra, who despite her very concerted efforts was struggling to take Eric's full gusto as he fucked her from behind, pumping his fat cock like a machine in and out of her weeping vagina. His strong hands gripped her shoulder and neck, holding her in place as he fucked her, his thrusts so powerful that if left on her own Alessandra would have been sent to the ground by now. 

She had already lost. She had lost before Tanya even entered the room, but Eric wasn't done with her yet, so he held her up and fucked her like a living sex-toy, which was all she was now. Her face was blank and retarded, literally frothing at the mouth as her brain went into a coma from the powerful Ero-enhanced orgasms ripping through her body. Eric's drug was a double-edged sword in that respect. It allowed you to fuck harder than you ever could otherwise, but it also made your orgasm hit you back, sometimes with the force of a speeding train. 

In Alessandra's case, her orgasms had turned her into road-kill, and Eric was the semi-truck running her over. 

"fffffFFFFFFUUUCCCKKK!!" Eric roared, and Tanya could feel her chest vibrate like from the base at a concert. 

Eric was cumming. He pulled out, his thick twelve inch pussy-destroying bitch-tamer ripping out of Tanya so fast that her vagina didn't even close. It just stayed a big red 'O.'

Finally she was allowed to slump down, her body quivering with painful, orgasmic aftershocks. Eric spent his seed on her back, his first spurt splashing out like a shotgun blast, but by the third he was shooting high into air with long, thick ropes of cum, splattering across his bitch's glistening body, pooling in the crevices of her lithe figure, especially her lower back where her fleur-de-lis tramp-stamp was located.

Eric came for almost a minute, his body shivering and his muscles twitching with angry pleasure long after his rock-hard penis stopped spewing its hot milk. He stayed hard though. It would be at least twenty minutes before he went soft. His lasting power had always terrified Tanya. Everything about Eric Lacroix terrified Tanya. That was part of the reasons she loved him so much. 

Eric's ripped body turned slightly and her growled "Get you fat ass over here."

Tanya strutted forward, but when she got close she slipped to her knees and crawled the rest of the way, kneeling between his open legs like a worshipper before a holy relic. A thick dollop of semen was hanging from the furious end of his rigid dick, and she leaned it to gently lick it up. Eric allowed her to. 

"You got the shit beaten out of you," Eric said, sounding a little amused, but also angry. "When Alessandra found you at the Amazon, you'd been strapped down to a toilet so your head was partly submerged. You're lucky you didn't drown. From the looks of things you'd been fucked over a dozen times with various sizes and shapes of strap-on dildos, some of which were left at the scene. After that, or maybe before, someone used you as a toilet."

Tanya had to bite her lip to hold back her shame. She couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand disappointing Eric like this.

"The owner was killed-"

"Illyria."

"Alessandra found her severed head in the back alley. They had used it as a soccer ball."

Tanya was biting her lip so hard it was bleeding. 

"Don't worry," Eric said, standing up. His cock slapped Tanya in the face and she fell back. "The Furies have been hitting at me for months, stealing Ero mostly, and I've been ignoring them because I never considered them a threat. A bunch of high-school and college aged dykes seemed beneath my concern, especially while the Yakuza and Nigerian Mafia have been fighting me with actual weapons of war. I even thought those little bitches might have been a good thing. Like little birds, they stole my grain, but they'd shit it out all over the city, spreading Ero into the schools and growing my fields even larger for the next harvest. But I was wrong. They're not birds. They're locusts. They're a fucking plague. Watch this."

Eric had moved over to his desk. He pressed a button and a large screen slid up from its hidden compartment in the ground. As it glowed to life, it showed some security footage. It was from the docks. Two of Eric's girls (judging by how attractive and well-dressed they were) were caring briefcases, no doubt filled with millions of dollars worth of Ero.




Eric Lacroix Ch. 02



Then a third figure came onto the screen, riding a pair of pink roller-blades and wearing a slutty little pink outfit. Tanya recognized the titless bitch immediately. It was Mittens. 

Mittens was caring a fucking submachine-gun, and she gunned down both of Eric's girls before either of them could react in time, ripping them apart with a carnage of bullets. Other girls rushed into the screen, all dressed in slutty costumes and acting crazy. The stole the Ero, cutting one of Eric's girls' hands off to get the case away. 

"Discovering their identities has not been hard," Eric said. "But what am I going to do, gun down a bunch of high school girls who've barely made it past their eighteenth birthdays? One or two maybe, but there are dozens of them. This city wouldn't tolerate that kind of massacre."

Tanya had an idea. She was afraid to speak out of turn, but she knew it was a good idea. 

"Three," she said. 

"Three?" Eric asked, turning around and standing over her, his godly body dripping with power.

"Three girls. That's all we need. Mittens. Mio. Roxanne. Roxanne most of all. She's their leader. She's . . . their version of you."

Eric smirked, amused and insulted. 

"Alright," he said. "I haven't been able to find anything on Roxanne, but I know where this little bitch Mittens lives."

#####

"This was not at all what I was expecting," Tanya said as she looked out of the car window at Mittens' house. It was a huge, stately piece of old-world imperialism that reeked of wealth, excess, and class. Only a well-connected millionaire could afford to live in this house, being in a part of town that was very 'old money.' 

"Why not?" Alessandra asked. "Sluts like these need to be rebelling against something." She was sitting in the back seat loading her gun and lubing up a particularly large double-ended dildo. Tanya wasn't sure if Alessandra was planning on raping Mittens or killing her, but they'd probably end up doing both anyway. 

"I wonder if Roxanne knows her slut Mittens is this rich," Tanya wondered. "I mean, all she talked about was how much she hated cops, rich yuppies, and the establishment. It seems that Mittens is part of all that."

"Which would make her much more fun to corrupt," Alessandra very insightfully pointed out. "Who would you rather have sucking your dick? A cynical old whore, or a pristine little virgin princess whose pussy is so fresh it tastes like strawberries?"

"Well neither of us have dicks . . . but I see your point." 

"Same reason niggers like fucking white girls so much," Alessandra said as she left the car with her weapons hidden in a briefcase. 

Tanya groaned and followed her to the house, walking up the very intimidating driveway. There were two cars parked in front of the house that together probably cost north of ten million dollars. 

Both Tanya and Alessandra were dressed appropriately though (for once) wearing conservative but expensive suits which were fitted properly but not even a tenth as revealing as their usual garments. They didn't want anyone in this ritzy part of town thinking that they shouldn't belong, other than the fact that Tanya was black and Alessandra was Hispanic, albeit a very European-leaning one. 

As they got near the massive front doors, Tanya saw something pink dashing out of the bushes at the far end of the property. 

"Alessandra, look," Tanys whispered. 

Alessandra discretely turned to see Mittens ducking from bush to bush, tree to tree, as the little slut was obviously trying her best to sneak home without getting caught after a night of partying. She looked ridiculously perverted in her outfit today: a microscopic and semi-transparent ballerina's leotard. Her face and flat chest sparkled with trashy body-glitter, and on her feet she wore big combat boots.

She looked like a porno-fairy, and she was hard to miss, but it was still early in the morning and no one was out.

"What a trashy little slut," Alessandra laughed. "She's the one who beat the shit out of you?"

"Shut up," Tanya growled. "She's sneaking round back. Let's follow her."

#####

Tanya and Alessandra snuck around back, coming to a massive backyard with a giant pool and several hot-tubs. A glass was just sliding closed, and Tanya looked in to see a large bedroom filled with trophies and scholastic awards. Oddly though, the room looked more like a boy's than a girl's, and the pictures on the wall looked like someone who could have been Mittens' twin brother. Maybe this was her brother's room?

"Alessandra," Tanya whispered. "What did Eric say Mittens real name was?"

Alessandra looked at a small card of info. "Austin Leonhard."

The sound of a shower was coming from deep inside the bedroom, and a door opened up with a cloud of steam. Mittens came out of it naked and sparkling clean, all the body-glitter and sex-stains from the night before was gone. Her pink wig was gone too, and Tanya was surprised to see that she had short blonde hair in a dyke cut. Her adorable little ass wiggled as she walked around the room naked. She was speaking on her cell phone to someone. 

"Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, oh-mu-fucking-gosh . . . no . . . you . . . DIDN'T" Mittens/Austin squealed in a girly little voice. "You sucked Travis Greene's dick last night? Oh my gosh, I am so fucking jelly right now. I have wanted to suck that boy's dick from like . . . the very moment I saw him. He . . . is . . . GORGEOUS! Was it big? . . . only average, huh? That's too bad. Yeah, I prefer big ones too. Really big ones. I like to feel like I'm gonna choke on it. If I'm not gagging, he's not big enough, that's my rule. . . . yeah . . . yeah . . . like Jerome, exactly. That black stallion could choke a whale with his horse cock. I wish you could take his dick, put it on Travis's body, with . . . I don't know . . . Brad's car. I fucking love Brad's car, it's a classic. I swear though, that car is the only reason that faggot gets any pussy, take my word for it as a total faggot, Brad is a TOTAL faggot."

And then Austin turned around, and Tanya understood why she had such non-existent breasts. She wasn't a 'she' at all. She was a boy. Mittens had a penis, albeit Mittens penis was the absolute smallest, most insignificant, barely-there-at-all penis she had ever seen. After being nearly fucked to death by Eric Lacroix every other day for the last year, Tanya refused to even compare Austin to Eric. There was no way they were the same gender, or even the same species! 

Two inches.

Two inches at maximum. That was what Tanya figured what she was looking at. How big would it get hard? Three inches? Four? Five, if he was lucky, but she doubted it.

Enraged (because this was the little bitch who beat the shit out of her, but also because the sight of small penises simply pissed her off) Tanya grabbed the door's handle and slammed it open so fast the plaster-glass pane cracked. Austin turned around to see her, and his mouth slowly dropped as it sunk into his ditzy little skull what was happening. Tanya whipped out her gun and pointed it right between Austin's big blue eyes. 

"Put . . . the phone . . . down," Tanya mouthed, her voice barely a whisper. 

Austin's pink lips trembled. " . . . I have to call you back."

#####

Tanya emerged from Austin's bathroom an hour later, nearly naked but for a disheveled bra, her stockings, and a layer of sweat. Her breasts had burst from the insufficient constraint of her lingerie, and her erect nipples were pointing upwardly with arousal and anger. She was gasping and grunting, still shivering with an orgasm and an even more fulfilling satisfaction of a job well done. 

"I think this bitch is ready to talk," Tanya said to Alessandra. 

Alessandra had spent the hour exploring Austin's computer hard-drive, finding a goldmine's worth of gay porn and naked selfies, many of them taken while Austin was being mounted by very lager, very muscular men. Alessandra had her pants down around her ankles and was idly stroking her amused kitten, but wasn't excited enough to actually cum. 

"'Bout fucking time," Alessandra said, kicking off her pants and following Tanya into the bathroom wearing nothing but her jacket and open shirt. She had discarded her bra at some point and promptly forgot about it. 

Alessandra snickered when she saw Austin. He was bent over the toilet with his perky ass in the air, and impaled in it was a full half of an eighteen inch double-ended dildo, the other half dripping with Tanya's cum. She had fucked him up the ass quite violently, slamming his balls into the cold rim of the toilet with every thrust, and dunking his head under the water occasionally until it bubbled. 

Austin was currently whimpering and retching up the toiler water he had swallowed as his hand vainly tried to pry the dildo from his ass, but it was buried deep, and pulling it out seemed to hurt more than leaving it in.

"You're going to tell us about Roxanne Rollins," Tanya commanded, placing her foot on the dildo and pressing against it slightly, causing him to cry out in pain. "Now."

He sniffled, thick globs of drool oozing down his chin. "Her . . . her real name is Rosemary Rollins, but she changed it 'cus she thought Roxanne sounded cooler."

Tanya pulled her foot back, and then launched it into his little balls. 

THUD!

"EAK!" Austin whimpered. 

"More than that, faggot. Where is she now? Who finances her? How did she build the Furies? Why is she going after Eric? Shit like that."

Austin bit his lip. "She use to be different. Way different. You cans see her in my photos."

Alessandra reached into the bedroom and pulled back a school photo of a cheerleading team. Austin was on it, wearing a male-cheerleader's uniform and looking like a complete tool, and he was ringed by over a dozen tasty little morels of freshly legal pussy. One of them Tanya finally recognized. It was Roxanne/Rosemary, except she looked completely different. She had perfect blonde hair with stylish bangs and a flirty little ponytail, and she looked positively chipper about being a five-foot bombshell of Anglo-American perfection.

"Jesus," Tanya said. "What the fuck happened?"

Austin tried to stand, but the rubber cock in his bowels kept him in the position he was. "It was Ero. Everyone in school had been experimenting with it, and there were all kinds of rumors. Roxanne . . . Rosemary had always been a good girl, never did drugs and promised t save herself for marriage. I had some Ero in my bag, mixed in with my diet pills. Rosemary took one by accident and just . . . I don't know . . . transformed. During our cheer routines at the game that night she started stripping off her uniform and doing the most fucking explicit dance I've ever seen, and this was in front of the entire school. After that she was hooked, and she's only gotten wilder and wilder, and she's been pulling more and more people into her shit."

Tanya kicked him in the balls again. 

THUD!

"Don't act like the victim here, you little bitch," Tanya screamed at him, enjoying the way he squirmed. "You're a deviant, bitch-ass little freak, and it ain't nobodies' fault you're like that but your own. Now cut to the fucking point. Where the fuck is this bitch hiding out?" 

Austin cried as he tried to stay true to his mistress, but when Tanya just tapped his scrotum with the tip of her shoe he nearly cried. 

"She . . . she's going to be at the Amazon tonight! We had been using an abandoned factory as our base, but it was cold and boring and too far from anything fun. The Amazon's the perfect clubhouse, she said. That's why she really killed Illyria. That was the plan all along. She knew the cops wouldn't give a shit, not with Lacroix's blanket claim to all of the Gash for himself."

"Smart bitch," Alessandra complimented. "She's using Lacroix's own apparatus against him. He got rid of the cops and the gangs, and now she's filling the void."

"Well that ends tonight," Tanya said. "Let's go."

Alessandra sauntered out and went to gather up her pants and shoes, but Tanya stayed a moment longer just to watch how pathetic and weak Austin looked on his knees. He was struggling up at last, and the dildo was pushed out like a giant piece of shit made of super-glue. When it finally popped free Austin sighed in relief and sat on the toilet, barely able to rest on his buttocks without crying. 

Tanya noticed something familiar on the sink. It was one of Austin's brass-knuckles, the ones he had battered her tits around with the other night. She picked it up and slipped it onto her hand, enjoying the feeling of its weight on her fingers. 

"So, Austin" Tanya said, licking the jagged knuckles of her weapon with her long tongue. "Do you really like dressing up as a girl?"

"Y-yeah."

"And you liked getting fucked like a girl? I mean, I pummeled the shit out of your ass, and I know it hurt, but you also kinda liked it didn't you?"

" . . . yeah," he admitted. He looked up at her and blushed. In truth he had enjoyed being raped by her. He felt scared, humiliated, and abused, but he loved a good ass-fucking, and Tanya fucked his ass harder than anyone before. 

"Well . . . do you want to become a girl?"

"Yeah . . . wait-NO!"

Tanya slammed her brass-knuckled directly down onto Austin's diminutive genitals, crushing them against the lid of the toilet. Although the blow fell so fast it barely took up a millisecond, for both parties it felt like an eternity, and Tanya could feel his tiny testicles slowly giving way, and she looked into his terrified, submissive eyes with an expression of utter dominance and ecstasy.

POP! POP!

Austin inhaled for a scream but before he could let it out he lost consciousness, and he slipped to the floor foaming at the mouth and started suffering spasms like an epileptic. Tanya chuckled softly and turned to leave, choosing to abandon all of her clothes behind. She didn't like such boring shit anyway. 

As she walked back into the room Alessandra was waiting for her, panting with sadistic arousal. 

"You know," Alessandra said with a hungry smile. "I really hate you. I hate you more than anyone. I hate that you remind me of the boring life I had before Eric, I hate that you're part of my new life as well, and I hate that I have to share my status as Eric's Queen with you . . . but holy shit if you are not the most badass, sexy, fucked-up bitch who ever lived, and you make so . . . fucking . . . wet."

Tanya smirked and she climbed onto Austin's bed, arching her big, juicy as right into Alessandra's face. "Maybe you and I should have it out right now. Eric's intel says this little faggot's mother isn't gonna be back for another couple hours." 

Alessandra practically ripped off her jacket and jumped onto the bed, smiling from ear to ear. "You're on bitch!"

As they fucked each other like wild animals their frigid animosity melted into a hot, orgasmic sea of lesbian lust, but their rivalry only intensified. For them sex was not an act of love but an act of savagery and conquest, and each woman wanted to prove she was the fiercest tigress in Eric's jungle. They threw each other's bodies around Austin's room, smashing his trophies, pictures, and ruining all of his possessions with their copious sexual stains. When it was all over his room was destroyed, and nothing had been decided between the two warring Queens, but they did leave the house with a sense of relief and a new found respect for one another. 

#####

"Well I'm happy to see you two finally getting along," Eric said with genuine surprise.

Across from him in his limousine was Tanya and Alessandra, locked in each other's arms as they kissed with wild, lustful abandon, each trying to consume the other whole, their tongues loudly smacking against the other's lips. Tanya's hand slipped down the front of Alessandra's tight leather pants and found her very wet pussy, and the moment that her fingers entered the honey-trap Alessandra moaned loudly with an intense pleasure. Tanya took advantage of the moment and pushed her lover down, prying open Alessandra's leather vest and sucking one of the White Queen's nipples into her mouth. 

The three criminals were riding in the back of Eric's limousine, cruising down the main drag of the Gash in style, as Eric always did these days. It wasn't a very inconspicuous vehicle, costing several million dollars and decorated with a fleur-de-lis hood-ornament, but Eric didn't want to be inconspicuous about this. He wanted everyone in the Gash to see him rolling up on the Amazon, and he wanted everyone to know what was going down.

The three of them were dressed for combat as well. Tanya and Alessandra were decked out in skintight leather pants and bodices, fingerless gloves with built-in brass-knuckles, and high-heeled combat boots. Eric was dressed differently though, wearing white slacks and a white jacket, but underneath that he wore nothing, so that his sculpted herculean chest was bare, and glistening with masculine heat. 

As they pulled up in front of the club several Furies were rolling by on roller skates, wielding baseball bats and chewing bubble gum. They were all dressed incredibly slutty, wearing tiny skirts and hiked up thongs, shredded t-shirts and exposed bras.

One of the little sluts recognized Eric immediately. She raised her baseball bat up and spat out her bubblegum. 

"Hey! What the fuck are you-"

But before she could finish speaking, Eric grabbed the baseball bat out of her hands and swung it up between her legs. It landed with a sickening thud, and the girl squeaked in mind-shattering pain as she bounced into the air and then went tumbling into the street.

Another Fury came out him, this one with a small knife, but Alessandra launched a perfect kick right into the high school girl's stomach, her sharp heel sinking deep, and the girl went down clutching her gut and nearly vomiting. 

The third squealed like the little girl she was. She spun on her skates and tried to peddle away, but Tanya was on her too fast, jamming a taser up into her cunt so hard that it was almost fucking her like a dildo. 

"Fry, bitch," Tanya said, turning on the taser. 

The girl screamed as a powerful electric shock shivered through her body, zapping her pussy and frying her brain. Her eyes rolled back and her mouth began to foam. When Tanya finally released her the taser's battery was almost spent, and the girl's cunt was wafting with little puffs of smoke. She collapsed to the dirty sidewalk unconscious and twitching like a dying insect. 

"Alright," Eric said, palming the head of his baseball-bat. "Let's go have some fun."

#####

Within minutes the Amazon was transformed into an orgy of violence. Sexy young sluts dressed in fetish clothing and skimpy school-girl uniforms threw themselves at Eric and his Queens like kamikazes, but they went down like flies. Eric could deliver a gut-punch so hard that it'd sent a girl to her knees puking, and some were so light that he could just pick them up and them slam them against his knee. 

Tanya and Alessandra were right behind him, kicking sluts into submission and electrocuting a few into near-comas, but they didn't kill any of them. Eric was very specific about that. One dead pretty little white girl and the media could spin this whole thing against him. Also . . . Eric had plans for these sluts. 

Running up the stairs to what one had been Illyria's flat, Eric kicked down the double doors and came into a large living room cluttered with electric guitars, ashtrays, beanbag-chairs, sex-swings, empty liquor bottles, and dozens of sticky sex-toys. 

Roxanne was sitting in a large chair with her legs spread so wide they were propped up on the arm-rests. Her perky young tits were heaving up and down as she moaned in erotic frustration. She was wearing nothing but a ripped up t-shirt, fingerless gloves, and a tiny little black thong that was pushed to the side of her gushing young pussy.




Eric Lacroix Ch. 02



Mio was eating her out with an appetite. The Japanese stereotype was kneeling before her mistress, completely naked, with her long black hair sticking to her sweaty, sex-stained body. Her chin was literally dripping with Roxanne's cum. 

"N-not now!" Roxanne whined, squirming as she was peaking to another orgasm. "I'm busy! And What's all that fucking racket about any-"

She saw Eric Lacroix smiling at her from across the room.

"Oh shit . . . MIO!"

Mio gasped after swallowing a wet mouthful of pussy-nectar, and then spun to her feet with lightning speed, although her knees wobbled a bit because of how horny she was. Her sword was propped up in a guitar-stand right next to her, and with blinding speed she grabbed it, and charged at Eric, it's silver blade flashing free, ready to slice him in half. 

But she stopped as she felt the cold barrel of a gun press against her naked chest, right beneath her young breasts. Tanya had moved right in front of her, and she was holding an Uzi submachine gun. 

"Sorry bitch," Tanya said with a scowl on her face. "But you just brought a knife to a gunfight."

RATATATATATATATATATAT!!

Mio's naked body was pushed back by a tidal wave of bullets, shredding her once lovely form into a bloody ruin. She was pushed back all the way to a large window, and in the hail of bullets she went flying out of it, falling two stories to the ground in a gory rain of broken glass. 

"Thanks for letting me kill that one, daddy," Tanya turned to Eric, pushing her massive tits against his rock-hard chest.

"Vengeance for your friend, but don't get greedy. I've got plans of the rest of these bitches," Eric said, cupping Tanya's chin in his hand and pulling her up for a kiss.

"Mio . . .?" Roxanne stammered, her big blue eyes filling with tears. "Mio? Mio? MMMMIIIOOOO!"

"Mio's dead!" Eric yelled at her. "And by the time I'm done with your little punk ass you'll be wish you were too."

He threw off his jacket with a dramatic flourish, revealing all of his perfect, sculpted torso. His upper body was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, so that every pulsing curve stood out with hypnotic enticement. Even after witnessing the death of her best friend and right-hand lieutenant, Roxanne couldn't stop her hormones from tingling.

But there was no stopping how pissed she was. She slipped on both of her giant rhinestone-studded brass-knuckles and ran right toward Tanya, ready to crack her skull open. 

"Not so fast!" Eric said, lifting up his leg and kicking Roxanne in the gut with his shin. She strike was so hard that she crumpled in half and went rolling along the floor, crashing into a table and knocking bottles over. 

"This is between you and me, you little slut," Eric said, flexing the dozens of muscles in his chest and abs. "You want the Gash? Well so do I. We are going to settle this tonight."

Roxanne looked up at him with wild hatred in her eyes, her puffy lips snarling in a bloodthirsty frown. Even though she was barely taller than five feet and couldn't have weighed more than 120lbs, her rage was so pure that she was still intimidating. 

"Alright," she said, breathing heavily. "You and me. No weapons. To the death."

Eric may have actually licked his lips. "Perfect."

#####

Illyria's former room soon became crowded with angry Furies, many of them still nursing wounds received by Eric and his Queens. Many of them had wanted to start another fight, but Roxanne stopped them. She had accepted Eric's duel, and despite being a backstabbing, mischievous little gang-banger she planned to honor it. She was still wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a tiny black thong, but she had to lose the brass-knuckles as per the rules of the duel. No weapons. Only their bodies could be used. 

As Tanya sat on a couch, holding her Uzi at the ready, she could not imagine how this little pixie punk who was barely old enough to buy alcohol planned to defeat Eric Lacroix, a sexual titan in peak physical condition. Maybe she was planning treason. Maybe this was going to end up as some kind of trap. Tanya kept her submachine gun ready just in case. 

But then Tanya saw what Roxanne's plan was. 

The blue-haired bitch was gathering up all of the Ero her girls were carrying. ALL of it. As she did so the girls offered her words of encouragement, or their condolences for the death of Mio. Roxanne kissed each of them, her black lips casually dominating even the older girls, and occasionally she'd pet one on the crotch or twist a nipple. By the times she was done Roxanne was holding nearly a hundred hits of Eric's mind-blowing drug. She held up one white pill between her fingers, crushed it, and snorted the dust. The next pill she swallowed. The third she shoved right up her pussy, letting it dissolve into her body.

"Mmmm," Roxanne moaned. "Just like candy." 

"Holy shit," Alessandra whispered. "Is that stupid little slut trying to commit suicide? Three hits is enough to reduce most people into mindless zombies, and any more than that will just cause her heart to explode."

Alessandra was right, Ero overdoses were pretty common, and sometimes fatal. Even just a few milligrams too much and the user would lose control of themselves, becoming a mindless hedonist who would literally do anything to achieve orgasm, to the point that a girl might fuck herself with a knife if nothing else was within hand's reach.

But despite the insane amount of Ero Roxanne had gathered, she didn't stop talking hit after hit. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she started to gasp exhaustedly. Her chest was beating like a drum, and her body started to drip with sweat. Her skimpy underwear clung to her body, and her blue bangs got stuck to her cheeks. She was moaning wildly with an insane glint in her eyes, her long tongue snaking out and licking Ero dust off her lips. Soon she was shivering with inebriation, and she was rubbing Ero over her body as if it were lotion, and the dusty powder quickly melted into her glistening skin.

Tanya was frightened to see that Eric actually looked uneasy. He used more Ero than anyone, but not even he thought that someone could survive that much exposure to it. 

Roxanne swaggered to the middle of the room, her hips swaying and twitching almost uncontrollably. She was breathing so loudly that bits of drool escaped her lips and fell onto her heaving young breasts. Her pussy was so wet that even though her panties were black there was still an obvious dark spot. 

"Alright," she gasped in a ecstatic, high-pitched voice. "Let's do this! Let's fucking do this thing right fucking now . . . fuck me . . . because I am going to fuck you Eric, I am going to FUCK you into the FUCKING ground!" She tensed her muscles and screamed, her smile so wide it looked like her face might burst open. Her pussy started to drip onto the floor. "Time to fuck the monster you've made."

#####

They stood inches apart from one another, her gasping face inches away from his rock-hard pectorals. They could feel the heat emanating from each other's bodies, and Eric could almost feel his skin scorching from the furnace between Roxanne's legs. Her body was going into overdrive, like a nuclear power plant about to suffer some kind of disaster. Her body was a sexual bomb waiting to explode. She was so dizzy that she actually brushed up against him, her nipples grazing his chest, and the brief contact sent electric chills through both of them. 

There was no starting bell or countdown from three. It just started. 

Eric grabbed her by her short blue hair and held her in place, his strong grip lifting her to her tippy-toes. His other fist came down and punched her across her face, the room echoing with a loud CRACK!

He lifted her up a bit more, and then drove his fist into her gut so hard that he feet left the ground. The air was driven from her lungs with a wet pop, and she spat up a little onto the floor. 

Eric punched her in the gut again, and again, and again, until he was socking her so hard her ass came up parallel to her head. He was using her like a punching-bag, and she wasn't even fighting back. 

Her let go of her hair, but before she could slip to the ground he balled both of his fists together and brought them down on her head like a sledgehammer. 

Her legs spread out in a ditzy splits and she fell, her pussy landing on the dirty floor with a wet thud. Her head was level to his crotch, and sensing a good moment to finish her, Eric started to undo the buckle of his pants. He was going to make this insolent little whore suck his cock in front of all her dyke gang-bangers. 

But Roxanne had other plans. "Is that . . . I that all you got?" she asked with a delirious smile on her face. "That felt . . . that felt good, but I need way more foreplay than that."

Her fist shot up with incredibly speed and buried itself in his testicles, knocking his balls up so hard that they almost slipped back into his pelvic bone. Erix heaved in pain and clutched his crotch, his pained face lowering to her dizzy tongue-waggling visage. Roxanne's hands reached up and grabbed him by his belt, and she sprang up, somersaulting in the air so her hands were on his waist and her legs were wrapping around his head, her perky buttocks rubbing into his face. She laughed, and pulled his pants down as she curled up into a ball, every lithe muscle in her slender stomach exploding with sudden rage.

Erix tripped over his falling pants, and he somersaulted in the air as Roxanne's legs pulled him up and over, throwing him to the floor on his back. 

SLAM!

Eric coughed from the impact, but his breathing was muffled by Roxanne's pussy planted on his face. She was grinding down on him, using his nose to stimulate her swollen clit as she gushed liquid into his mouth. 

"Oh yeah, oh yeah," she moaned. "Eat that pussy. Good bitch. Make mama cum."

Both of her hands reached down and slipped into his pants, one grabbing the shaft of his cock and began beating it back and forth, the other smacking his balls over and over again like a punching bag. This was not pleasurable, she was jerking his cock like she was trying to strangle a rattlesnake, pulling the skin so far back it felt ready to rip. 

Eric was pissed. He did not let women throw him around, especially some barely-legal emo-punk gangster slut. His strong hands gripped her slender waist and pulled her off his face. With an explosion of energy he lifted her into the air as he moved into a standing position, and then he slammed her pussy right onto his knee. 

THUD!

Roxanne arched back and screamed, but it wasn't clear if she was screaming in pain or pleasure. A blow like that would have knocked most girl's out, but she was gushing on his leg as an orgasm ripped through her. She grabbed Eric by his ears and then slammed her forehead into his nose.

CRACK!

By the time his vision stopped being blurred by streak of light, he saw her perky ass spinning in front of him. The heel of her foot struck him directly in the temple, and he was knocked to the ground by the well-placed kick. 

He looked up to see Roxanne standing above him with her leg raised up behind her head. She dropped it, her heel falling like a meteor to his crotch. 

At the last moment he caught her heel in his hands, but the strength of her kick was still strong enough to hurt anyway. He gripped her ankle and twisted, throwing her back. She flipped through the air and landed on her feet, buts he didn't get her balance back in time and Eric rose up, pulled up his pants, and drove his knee into her gut. She bounced into the air and she slammed her against the nearest wall, hitting it so hard chips of paint flew off.

Roxanne made as sound like she was about to puke, but once she choked the pain down she started to laugh. Her midsection was writhing against his pulsing muscles, but not in pain. She was wiggling like a young woman about to experience an orgasm. 

"Better," she groaned, her voice husky. "Better. But I want more. I want it harder. Harder. That's how I like it. I won't cum unless your choking the shit out of me."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Eric asked. For the first time in a long time he found himself intimidated by a woman, and that fact that it was such a young girl enraged him. "And how are you still alive? You took nearly a hundred hits. Your heart should have exploded by now."

He clutched her right breast in his hand and squeezed it until the firm flesh bulged between his fingers. He could feel her heartbeat moving a mile a minute, but her body was keeping up with it somehow. Roxanne whimpered a little from the stimulation, but she also giggled derisively.

"Yeah, I noticed that a while ago. The first time I took Ero it was an accident, I grabbed a bunch from Austin's bag. Although I didn't know it at the time I dropped way more than any human is supposed to be able to survive. It took enough to give a horse a heart-attack, but all it did to me was get me really, really, really, REALLY fucking horny. "

"Yeah," Eric grunted. "Tanya told me you did a striptease in front of your entire school during a football game."

She giggled, writhing against his arm. "It's not like my uniform wasn't already a skimpy little sex-rag that had 'fuck me' written all over it. I was always a school-approved sex symbol, the Ero just brought out the real slut in me. I'm the blue-haired butterfly, Rosemary was the cocoon, an your Ero was the sweat nectar I needed to evolve."

"Oh please. You're nothing but a spoiled little rich girl. You think just because you took some drugs and strapped on a leather thong that you can suddenly break bad and become the meanest bitch in town?"

Roxanne was getting angrier, and hornier. "You have no idea what your drugs did to me . . . NO FUCKING IDEA! I was a good girl. I went to church. I never swore. I had never seen pornography. I was a lily-white-fucking-virgin. Then the Ero hit me and-"

"Don't blame the drugs-"

"Shut up! Stop pretending that I'm not special! That much Ero should have killed me, but all it did was give me a three-day orgasm that left me exhausted and dehydrated to the point I had to be hospitalized, and at the hospital they had to tie me down to stop me from raping the nurses. I should have died, my heart should have exploded like my pussy was, but it didn't. The doctor told my mom that I have an unusual 'nucleus accumbens,' the part of the brain that regulates pleasure. He said that my brain could uniquely process the Ero, so instead of overheating my body just . . . adapted." 

"I'm waiting for that part where I give a shit," Eric growled, although some of anxiety slipped into his voice. Ero was in cash crop, his greatest weapon, his legacy, and his child. He knew more about it than anyone. He had done more of it than anyone . . . or so he thought. The idea that this girl had some genetic fluke that was perfectly adapted to use his drug disturbed him. 

Roxanne giggled. "I'm going to fuck you up, Eric Lacroix. I'm going to fuck you to pieces, and then I'm going to kill your Queens. You're going to be my slave Eric, my personal alchemist. You're going to make me an endless supply of Ero, and if you don't, I'm gonna cut your cock off. You're going to be my slave, and I'm going to become the Gash's true Empress."

Eric pushed his forearm against her throat, choking her slightly. "Listen to me you little putain, you . . . are . . . NOT . . . SPECIAL! You are nothing but a fucking freak, a lucky anomaly that just happens to have the right deformity to survive. You are trash. You are a slut. You are nothing but a vapid, boring, tight piece of meat who dresses up like a tough bitch, but not that deep down you are a soulless cum-dumpster, who was waiting her whole pathetic life for any excuse to spread her legs and take it like the whore she is. I am not going to cook Ero for you. I am not going to let you stop me from conquering the Gash. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be whimpering and squirming and calling me 'Daddy' because that is just how worthless and pathetic you are." 

"Shows what you know," she snickered. "I've popped a lot of pussies Eric, maybe even as many as you, but I have never, NEVER been fucked by a man."

Eric was surprised by that. "You're . . . a virgin?"

"The other day I fucked sexy young nun with big tits until she bled. Does that sound like something a virgin would do? I'm the one who does the fucking Eric. I'm the FUCKER! I don't get fucked."

Eric's cock twitched at the revelations. "You're about to get fucked right now little girl. I am going to pop your cherry. And afterward . . . you'll thank me." 

A tear rolled down Roxanne's cheek. "I . . . am . . . going . . . to . . . fucking . . . kill . . . you." 

Eric smiled, his face so close to hers that the tips of their noses touched. "I'd like to see you try you little-"

THUD!

Eric groaned as he backed off, clutching at his testicles. Roxanne had kneed him pretty hard, a lot harder than she could have if he was expecting it. She looked pissed, her blue eyes almost glowing with intense hatred, and her young nipples erect rage. Her only body was glistening and flexing, stimulated with a need to dominate. 

She grabbed his hair and kneed him in the face. His head jolted back, and she then spun on her heel to deliver a perfect spinning-kick to his temple, knocking him back further. She punched at him and he slapped her dainty hand away, but it was a feint as her foot came up and smacked him in the balls again. He punched for her stomach but she slithered by it, spinning like a ballerina, grabbing on to his arm, and using it like a high-horse to kick him in the face again. He threw two more pinches, both her slender body contorted to avoid, and then she leapt up, wrapping her arms around his neck, and delivering a brutal series of quick alternating knee-strikes to his gut, striking him over a dozen times in just a couple seconds. 

Eric stood their stunned and heaving for air, puking up big wads of spit that drooled down his chin and onto the floor. 

Roxanne snorted, hands on her hips. "Faggot."

She grabbed his head with both hands and kneed him in the face, hitting him so hard this time that his head snapped back and he fell to the ground. The Furies cheered and danced as their mistress dominated the larger, older, and by all rights more powerful male. The cat-called and groped one another, a couple taking off their panties and tossing them at Roxanne as if they were flowers. Roxanne grabbed one pair out of the air and then crawled down onto Eric's muscular body. She pried his jaw open and stuffed the panties into his mouth.

"Good," she said. "I don't want to listen to you whine like a bitch when I crush your balls."

She ran her tongue over his face, licking up his sweat, and then stood up. She kicked his legs open so that they were wide apart and his crotch was left unprotected but for the thin material of his pants. There was a large bulge in them, a bulge eleven inches long and plenty thick. Roxanne looked at it with disgust.

"Fucking dick!" she growled, pulling a foot back and launching it into Eric's groin. His foot landed with a heavy thud and Eric groaned loudly, but his voice was muffled by the dirty panties filling his mouth. The Furies screamed and laughed in orgasmic delirium as they watched the archetypical man-god being brought to submission by the feral nymph. Her foot kicked him again and again, hitting him so hard that he was skidding across the ground.

"Daddy!" Alessandra yelled, getting up off the couch to help him. A Fury stepped in front and slapped her across the face, trying to push her back, but Alessandra responded with a punch to her side that clearly broke a couple ribs. 

"No interfering!" Roxanned screamed. "This is between me and him."




Eric Lacroix Ch. 02



Stepping on his stomach and then his chest, Roxanne lowered her thong-clad crotch over his face. She reached into his mouth and pulled out the wet, messy panties that had been choking him. They had slipped so far down his throat that he had been gagging. After going almost a minute without air had left him weak, groggy, and submissive. She pulled her own thong aside, revealing her puffy, wet pussy, and she planted it firmly over his mouth, slowly gyrating her hips in a circular motion. She slowly sunk lower and lower, more of her bald peach filling Eric's senses, and her nimble buttocks started to split over his chin. Her slender calf muscles wrapped around the back of his neck, and she pulled him into an even tighter squat.

"Mmm, you've got a rough tongue," Roxanne said, quickening her gyrations. "Like a kitty-cat. I like it. It feels good. I think I'm really gonna enjoy this orgasm I have building up. It's going to be a wet one, my wettest one yet. Fuck, get ready to drown, because this is going to be the last time you ever taste pussy you puffed up douche-bag. When I cum, I squeeze my legs, and when I squeeze my legs, your neck snaps. When your neck snaps, you're a vegetable. I'm pretty good at this, I know what kind of twist paralyzes you, and what kind kills you. You're going to live the rest of your life in a chair being fed liquid food through a straw, and you're going to spend that life teaching me how to make Ero. Sound good, pussy-licker?"

Eric could only muffle, his thong tongue massaging her swollen clit and vaginal lips. 

"Mmm. Yeah. Sounds good to me too."

Roxanne began to rock her hips back and forth faster now, really picking up the tempo and fucking his face without regard for his safety. That was the whole point though. Her tight, athletic hips slapping back and forth over his chin and nose. She started to bounce a little as well, hitting the back of his skull against the ground repeatedly, her firm breasts bouncing only slightly.

"Oh . . . fuck . . . damn . . . already? " Roxanne said to herself, her arched eyebrows scrunching closer to her mascara-laden eyes, her black lips puckering. "Damn boy, you've got me cumming already." Her breathing became more intense, as her hips started bucking faster, and her tight grip around his neck at that awkward angle only grew into more of a deadly vice. "Gonna be real sad when you can't get it up anymore . . . oh, fuck . . . the world is going to lose one hell of a cunt-muncher."

Roxanne was so focused on getting off that she didn't even notice Eric's hand rising up. She was lost in her own little pre-orgasmic world until his strong fingers clamped down onto the tight globes of her ass, suddenly squeezing them with muscle-bursting force.

"Wha . . . FUCK! Ouch!" Roxanne whined as the flawless flesh of her ass bunched up between his iron-like fingers. She gasped in shock and a little bit of pain, but she didn't stop humping his face. She was passed the point of no return now, and she needed to cum. She needed to pop even more than she needed to save herself. As she continued to hump his face, Eric started to move, slowly rising up into a sit-up position regardless of the fact that her entire weight was resting on his face. The muscles in his abs bulged so much they looked like wet, polished stones, and the muscles in his neck looked like the cables of a suspension bridge. Roxanne had underestimated him, and underestimated what limits a man like Erix Lacroix could push himself to. She knew she was going to pay for her arrogance in a minute if she didn't do something, so she started twisting back and forth, hoping the weight of her little cheerleader body would be enough to snap his neck. It wasn't. She was like a kitten pawing at a lion's face. 

Her body picked a very inopportune time to orgasm.

"Oh . . . oh fuck . . . not now . . . not . . . OH FUCKING SHIT! I-I-I'M FUCKING POPPING! FUCKING BITCH!"

Her flat stomach erupted into a smooth six-pack as every muscle in her perfectly sculpted little body exploded, her legs tightening so much they looked ready to snap. She clenched her teeth and tried to hold back a pathetic, wavering scream as her libido took her control away. She actually started to cry as her limbs shook and she vainly beat her fists against Eric's skull. Her pussy was exploding all over his face, rivers of cum dripping down his chest and running through the tantalizing crevices of his godlike musculature. She was cumming her brains out, the Ero reaching its peak levels of influence in her system. 

Hey eyes rolled back and her legs loosened, but she didn't fall off of Eric's shoulders. He held onto her, supporting her entire body above his head with nothing by the death-grip he had on her ass. He was standing now, erect and glorious, and he was eating out her little, popping pussy like a man dying of thirst would eat a watermelon. Cum dripped down his chin, and the Ero oozing out of her body started to saturate his. The bulge in his pants grew to daunting proportions. 

"Oh God! Oh Shit! Oh Fuck!" Roxanne cried, her body spasming with a painful series of orgasms. "Stop! Please . . . god . . . just stop! Let me go!"

"Want me to let you go?" Eric asked with an evil tone in his mocking voice. "Alright."

He tossed her up into the air, almost as if it were part of a cheer routine, but then he grabbed her legs and slammed her body down to the ground and full force, her back colliding with the surface of a low wooden coffee-table six feet below. 

CRASH!

The wood snapped in half as Roxanne came to a bone-breaking halt on the floor, wooden splinters flying in every direction. She was so stunned by the impact that should couldn't move, she could barely even breathe. 

"Fucking bitch," Eric growled. "You got my face all wet."

He reached down and with one stroke of his hand he tore her flimsy white shirt from her body, its damp material shredding like a piece of wet tissue paper. Eric mumbled a little to himself as he wiped his face and chest down with the meager scraps, before flinging it away and reaching down for something else. He took both of her pink, pierced nipples into his hands, twisted and pulled. 

"Na-na-na-nooooooo," Roxanne whimpered pathetically. Her upper body was raised off the ground, and then her ass, and then her legs. Eric was suspending her inches off of the ground by nothing by her nipples, the taught flesh of her firm bosom barely stretching at all. Roxanne sniveled and kicked her toes, but there was little she could do. 

THUD!

Eric's knee struck her right in the gut, and she went skidding across the ground and into a wall. Two Furriers quickly grabbed her and tried to prop her back up, both on the verge of tears, compassionately petting their boss's exhausted face and asking if she was alright. 

"She said no interfering, cunts," Eric reminded the Furriers. He reached out with both hand and grabbed them by their multi-color hair, slamming their heads together so hard in made a sound not unlike two coconuts being smashed with a hammer. They withered to the ground unconscious, and Eric was left standing over the barely cognizant Roxanne who collapsed back onto the floor. He picked her up as if her body weighed little more than a piece of discarded underwear, and he slammed her head first into the wall. Paint chips exploded everywhere, rotten wooden boards gave way, and Roxanne's head went right through the wall and into the next room, leaving her bent over with her ass wiggling free. Her whole body was shivering like an overworked greyhound. 

Eric laughed. "What a stupid bitch! Look at you. You look like a hunting trophy put the wrong way round."

He ran his hands over her exposed ass-cheeks, amazed by how polished and smooth they were. He spanked her, and even though the wall Roxanne's muffled cry of shame could be heard. He spanked her again, this time smacking her with more force. Her buttocks jiggled with the blow, and her whole body lurched forward, sending more of her shoulders and torso through the wall. Eric smacked her again, this time with less of a slap and more of an open-handed punch, and her shoulders broke through. Eric snorted in amusement. He started to slap and spank the shit out of her ass, striking her from every angle, but especially dead on, pushing her inch by inch further into the wall. Finally her tits slipped through, and the hole was big enough that Eric could see the bathroom on the other side. Eric got right in back of her, and with his two strong hands he took big handfuls of her a little ass-cheeks, pulling them apart so far that it looked like her pretty little anus was going to rip open. When he pried her open as far as she would go, he slammed his knee right into the middle, pulverizing her back-pussy, and hitting her so hard that he whole body went through the wall. 

CRASH!

Eric stepped through the cloud of dust and into the dirty bathroom that Roxanne had just been pounded into, her body rolling around in a pile of broken wooden boards and shattered tile. Her crash had broken a water-pipe in the ceiling, and lukewarm water rained down on the both of them, washing over their pulsating bodies. 

The water was enough to shake Roxanne from her dream, and she quickly got a second wind. She arched her back and launched up an incredible kick to Eric's face, but he deflected it easily and in return he stomped on her stomach, driving her into the ground. She gasped in pain and clutched her gut, rolling back into the debris. Eric grabbed her by the nape of her neck and easily lifted her from the ground. He bent her over the crusty toilet and hiked her ass up. He wound his hand into the black thong she had on, and he started to tug on it. He tugged upward, causing the elastic material to cut into her swollen pussy. He pulled as far as it would go, amused by the way the wedigie highlighted the perfect heart shape of her peachy bum, and by the way the thong cut into the folds of her vagina like it was a gooey slice of pie. 

He pulled a little too far and the thong snapped. Roxanne cried out as the elastic material whiplashed her clit and sensitive lips. She tried to yell something, but she had forgotten how to speak, and all that came out was a pathetic, mindless gibberish. 

"Bitch," Erix rumbled. "Shut the fuck up!"

He grabbed her head and shoved it down into the toilet bowl (which thankfully was the cleanest part of the toilet) and it instantly began to boil as she choked down gulp after gulp of water. She was too tired to hold her breath, and so she instantly began to drown in the small amount of water, her splashing only allowing her precious milliseconds of air.

Eric pulled her out, her face and hair running with toilet-water. She coughed and gagged as she tried to spit up the water she had swallowed, but it took a punch from Eric right into her gut to get her to puke it back up.

"Give up, you worthless slut?" Eric asked, holing the nape of her neck so tightly that he could have snapped it like a twig. 

She gurgled back, whimpering and crying. She may have been trying to say 'yes.' 

"Bitch," Eric dunked her back under, this time prodding her pussy with his fingers as she struggled for air, his thumb pushing against the tight little rim of her anus. She was tight, probably the tightest Eric had felt in a long time. She didn't have a cherry, but most girls lost that doing cheerleading anyway, or from horseback riding or whatever the fuck this bitch had been into. But from the way her tight, swollen lips clamped down on his fingers like she didn't want him to go, this was how he knew she was a virgin. All the strap-on cocks and pussy-eating in the world couldn't substitute for a real, pulsing, warm cock, as this bitch was about to find out. 

Eric pulled her back up. She puked up the water instantly, her whole face smeared black with her mascara and lipstick. 

He pulled her back at a painful angle, so far that the top of her head almost touched the top of her ass, and he whispered into her ear "Time we ended this."

#####

Over two dozen Furies watched helplessly and awestruck as Eric came out of the bathroom dripping wet, his every perfect muscle sparkling with sexual dominance, and across his shoulder was slung the limp body of their leader Roxanne. A few of the older girls, the college aged ones, looked around desperately for some signal to jump in and save their queen, but everyone was frozen. One lovely girl with a whip and a tight leather bodice wrapped around her massive tits was breathing so hard that her nipples popped out. Another girl, a younger one who barely looked old enough to tie her own shoe laces let alone be eighteen (which she was), was twisting her legs together as she pissed herself. 

Tanya and Alessandra were standing by a large, messy bed, each holding a gun and slowly scanning the room. Tanya was holding the same Uzi she had used to cut Mio nearly in half, and Alessandra was wielding a gold-plated revolver, like something a gay cowboy might want. They knew what was about to come, and they didn't want any of these dykes stopping it.

Eric dropped Roxanne onto the floor next to the bed, literally dropped her like she was a sack of laundry, he could not have given less of a shit about her wellbeing. Pathetically she crawled to her knees, wiping her crying face with her forearms like a little kid, unable to hold back the unbearable shame wracking her body. Eric looked down at her with a mild look of disgust, and he started to unbutton his pants. The zipper cam down, slowly, every tiny metal latch echoing in Roxanne's mind like the tolling of her funeral bells. The bulging monstrosity in Eric's pants started to slip up and out, a third leg of tan, rippling muscle. 

His 12 inches of thick cock sprang out and smacked Roxanne in her cheek, slapping her so hard that it knocked some spit out. Her blue eyes bulged in fear, and she lost her breath. A submissive murmur echoed around the room, all mixed with fear, respect, and awe. Even being violent, sociopathic, Sapphic whores, the Furriers were still young women, and their reaction to Eric's perfect cherry-smasher was only natural. 

" . . . holy shit."

"Look at it, little girl," Eric commanded, his voice low and deep. "Look at what that dirty little pussy of yours did to me. Teasing me and playing games with me. It's time to take responsibility for it, brat. You are going to drain this cock of all the cum I've got packed up, sucking and fucking it dry, until you've gotten every last fucking drop, and I promise you, there is going to be a lot of it." 

Roxanne's hands came up and she meekly tried to push his cock away, but she was too weak to even bend it a little. The Ero in her body was running its course. The erotic, insane high was over. Now came the slow, dizzy, hedonistic drop that all Ero users felt afterwards, their sense still heightened and sensitive, but their bodies submissive and gelatinous. 

Eric grabbed the back of her head. "Now be a good little girl and show your friends what it's like to get deepthroated by a big fat cock, because once I'm done with you, I am going to systematically rape the living shit out of each of these bitches, and the only, ONLY preparation they are going to get is from watching you." 

Roxanne opened her mouth to say something. "Bu-"

On syllable was all she got. The head of Eric's massive mushroom pushed into her lips, filled her mouth, and plunged down her throat. She had never gotten something this big pushed down her throat before, she had never even tried. Her throat made wet choking sounds as Eric pumped his meat in and out at his own speed, holding her head tight so she couldn't move, although she tried. She kicked and scooted her butt along the ground, but the hold he had on her head was absolute. His cock barely even fit at first, but as her spit lubed it up it wasn't long before his balls were slapping against her chin, and she was looking up at him with a retarded, cross-eyed lock. 

"Fucking bitch . . . LOOK AT ME!" Eric roared, his body exploding with muscle. "Look at me while I cum down your fucking . . . slut . . . uhhhhhh," Eric moaned driving his cock deep in one brutal thrust, the iron-hard meat sliding to a halt as her nose smashed against his abs. He came, his cock gushing salty cum directly into her stomach and filling her mouth. Even though His cock filled her throat, semen still blasted out the sides of her lips and oozed down her neck, splashing against her naked chest. She gagged a little and a rope of cum shot out of her nose like milk, clogging what little air she had left. Eric moaned in satisfaction as he held her in place, allowing his orgasm to calm on its own, which took a lot longer than most women would expect.  

Smiling smugly, Eric withdrew his cock, hi semi-hard twelve inches sliding free with a sickening, gushing sound. Long strands of cum and spit oozed out after it, connecting his thick member to her nose, mouth, and face with thick tresses of after-sex. Roxanne's tongue flopped out as a waterfall of semen dripped from her mouth. 

"Don't think for a second that you're done," Eric said, slapping his thick meat against her face, splashing his cum into her hair and across her shoulders. "Ask any bitch I've ever fucked. The first one is just a warm up."

Once again her grabbed her by the nape of her neck, and her tossed her across the bed, stomach laying down. Grabbing her legs, he pulled her ass up to the edge, and split her cheeks apart with his big hands. The cum-slickened tip of his cock pushed against the lips of her pussy, and despite the fact that she was practically gushing she was still incredibly tight. The muscles of her groin simply wouldn't stretch very far, and Eric found himself stopping at the tip. 

"Stop!" Roxanne screamed. "No man has even been in there! No man was ever supposed to! You don't . . . you don't deserve it!"

That really pissed Eric off. No one told him what he did and did not deserve. He grabbed her shoulder with one hand, her waist with another, and he pulled back with all his strength. She popped, her pussy stretching around the thick diameter of his shaft, and her body stubbornly slid across its lubricated surface. Eric roared as he pulled her back, thrusting his hips forward, and yet for all his rage it still took nearly ten seconds for his balls to slap against her clit. 

Roxanne inhaled, and then arched her back and screamed at the ceiling. Eric began to fuck her, each slick stroke nearly popping out of her slit and unable to work itself back it. Eric had to struggle to stay focused. She was so wet, so tight. It felt amazing, but one wrong stroke and he'd have to start all over. He was fucking her so hard that the bed started to shake, and empty vodka bottles on the nearby nightstand vibrated to the floor one by one, smashing into a million bright little stars. Roxanne' vision was also filling with stars, streaks of light blinding her as her body melted into a continuous orgasm, the massive amounts of Ero pumping in her blood was settling into her brain like a thick, warm fog. As she came, her brain erupted with a sizzling climax, brain-cells dying by the thousands. 

Eric was close to cumming again to, but before he did he wanted his new bitch to understand something. He grabbed her hair and pulled back, her acrobatic body arching into an erotic ring. She was looking up into his face, her eyes wide and filled with tears, her tongue wiggling out as she panted for air. 

"I own the Gash," Eric said. "Every building, every alley, every street. It's all mine. It always has been. The junkies, the prostitutes, the pimps, the gang-bangers; whether they understand it or not, they all work for me. Anything that walks on two legs in the Gash is my slave. That includes you, you spoiled little whore. I own the Gash, and that means I own YOUR gash!"




Eric Lacroix



The room looked like a bomb had gone off. The chair was shattered, the table was cracked down the middle, the bed frame was unrecognizable. I was actually impressed by how much damage Candy and I had done to the place. The little slut had been harder to break than I had predicted, even with three hits of Ero frying her brains.

The sad thing was that this had been the first really good, hard, sweaty sex I had gotten in a long time. Since Alessandra . . .

I missed being with a woman, a REAL woman, not a little girl like Candy. I had slept with a few men recently, big brothers packing nine inches each, but it hadn't been enough to keep me happy. Fucking Candy hadn't been out of pleasure. The sad fact was this was the only way to beak someone under the hold of Ero . . . and of Eric Lacroix.

Candy was on the floor, naked and glistening with a sheen of sweat, panting like a dog. The look on her face was the most vacant, blissful, pathetic thing I had ever seen. 

"Get the fuck up bitch," I said. "You have a phone call to make."

I gave her a cell-phone, dialed the strip-joint she worked at, and held up a script I had written in a notepad. She was so mind-wiped that she did exactly as I told her, reading the script almost perfectly, if not for the fact that her voice was totally flat, but if anything that made her sound more convincing as someone suffering from a cold.

" . . . her name's Tanya," she finished, and I hung up. 

"Good job, sweetie."

I got dressed and headed out the door. Candy was looking at me like a lost little puppy. There were some young thugs in the hallway, local punks. I got their attention by whistling them over. The leader of them, a handsome young punk of about 19 or 20, thought he was going to get some from me, but no, he wasn't.

"Check it out," I said, nodding my head inside where the naked little blonde girl was waiting for a master to pluck her up. "She's all yours. But be careful with her around carpets. I don't think she's potty trained." 

#####

When I showed up to the strip-joint Candy worked at I was taken by surprise at how ritzy it was. This wasn't some herpes-invested shithole like the kind you found in the Gath, this was in the wealthier red-light district and was a true gentlemen's club, in the sense that you only got in if you were a member, and you had to be filthy stinking rich to be a member. Dozens of shimmering stripper poles sparkled like golden bars, transparent catwalks in every direction, full bars served by the most beautiful women, and an endless assortment of private rooms spanning the size of an apartment building, this place was a hedonists wet-dream.

It was called The Pearl. 

The changing room I walked in to already had a dozen girls inside, most of them wearing little more than makeup, glitter, and body-oil, making their naked bodies sparkle seductively. They were also all doing lines of Ero off of the table in preparation for their work. Two of them, both Asian, were so overwhelmed by the drug that they were kissing one another like starving lesbians, and thrusting their smooth hips together so hard I expected the table they were fucking against to break. A serious but lovely Asian woman in a professional business suit came into the changing room, and when she saw the two humping girls she spanked them with her clipboard. 

"Save it for the pole, girls." She then turned to me and checked me out with a disappointed, bitchy look. "You must be Tanya, Candy's replacement. Well don't expect any big tips tonight. Jungle-bunnies like you aren't what The Pearl is known for."

"I noticed," I said, barely resisting the urge to punch the cunt in her perfect nose. I was the only black woman in the place. All of the other strippers were white or Asian.

"I'll have you serving drinks tonight," the bitch said. "Now get undressed and find a g-string big enough to fit your fat-ass."

#####

I wanted to strangle that bitch until her tongue turned blue, but working the floor actually worked in my favor. Not only did it give me the freedom to move around and scope the territory, but the drink tray I carried was the perfect cover for my surveillance equipment. I had brought with me a very small, very hard to notice spy-camera with an equally tiny microphone, both of which I tapped to the bottom of my tray when none of the girls were watching. 

As I strutted around the club wearing nothing by a tiny neon green g-string and two green pasties, I found myself attracting a lot more attention than that bitch in the changing-room would have expected, but no wonder. Surrounded by all these vanilla and soy-sauce bitches I bet these boys would be hungry for some chocolate. I may have just been serving drinks, but I strut the floor like a boss, swaying my big, bubble butt with an almost dangerous level of swagger. 

If I had wanted to I could have used the footage on my tiny spy-cam to blackmail a lot of powerful people. I served a martini to district attorney as he was getting his balls licked by two barely legal Asian girls with tongue-studs. I served a whiskey-sour to a news anchor I recognized but couldn't name while he sat in a private room, getting a lap dance from a large breasted stripper dressed as a nun. Passing by another room I peeked in to see a famously anti-gay televangelist one his knees, jacking his tiny four-inch nut while two strapping young men made passionate love to one another in the corner. I actually hung out there for a second, just enjoying the show as my pussy started to get wet. My arousal was actually going to become a problem, I hadn't been around this much sheer hedonism in a long time, not since my sorority threw the orgy where I met . . . Alessandra . . . but I couldn't think about that. I had to stay focused on my target. 

And there he was. Sitting back in a chair at the far end of the VIP section, with a cocky smirk on his face like he didn't have a care in the whole world. When I saw him the room went quit, the subwoofers blasting in the club suddenly dying down, and all I could hear was the beating of my own heart. My palms were so sweaty that I almost dropped my tray of over-priced drinks, and my mouth literally salivated with the anticipation of my quarry, but I never lost my cool, not really. I was ready for this. 

Eric Lacroix was in his early thirties, about six feet tall, handsome in a rugged, weathered kind of way, especially for a white boy, with that big perfect chin, light stubble, and a smile that just made little bitches just want to giggle their virginities off. He was more handsome in person than he had been in his pictures. Even his mugshots from when he was a young punk dealing weed and pimping high-school girls looked more like headshots for a modeling agency. I had no doubt in my mind that Lacroix had always been the kind of stud who could make a pair of panties drop faster than most boys could get a phone number. Seeing him now, sitting like a king on a throne rather than a drug-dealer in a brothel, I almost couldn't blame Alessandra for what she did. 

"Have you reconsidered my offer?" A smooth, sexual voice asked, a woman's voice. 

Lacroix was not alone he was sitting across from a stunning older Asian woman with pronounced cheekbones and their most subtly done purple rouge. She wore a tight, covering, and yet provocative black dress. I recognized her from a job Interpol did with a department last year. Miho Koga. She was the wife of one of Climax City's most powerful yakuza bosses, or she had been, until he died under some mysterious circumstance last month. The coroner's report said her husband died of a sword wound to the gut, several bullet wounds to the back, and a drop from the roof of a ninety-eight story building. It was later ruled a 'suicide.' There were no arrests or retaliation from the yakuza. In fact, they seemed quite happy when Miho Koga stepped up to take charge of her husband's faltering operation. I should have realized that The Pearl was owned by one of Climax City's kingpins. 

"You mean, us going into business together . . . 'exclusively?'" Lacroix laughed, taking a sip from his drink, a Black Russian on the rocks. 

Holy shit he had a sexy laugh. He had a slight accent, something melted between Louisiana Cajun and a Mississippi droll. Something about his voice alone felt like a warm breeze was blowing between my legs.

"Sorry mon cher," Lacroix continued. "But it would just never work between us. You are a beautiful, powerful woman of importance in the community, and I am just a lowly rogue, getting by with nothing but his wits and luck. I simply don't deserve you." He laughed again, dripping with the sweetest false-modesty. 

Miho was breathing so hard that I could see her nipples bushing against the tight material of her dress. Her beautiful eyes fluttered half-open, almost as if she were about to pass out.

"I could make you a king," she said. "With your drugs and my network, we could conquer this city. Forget the mayor, forget the kingpins. We'd cut them down like grass." She leaned forward and grasped his firm, muscular leg, her lovely face melting with desperation. "That night you gave me was the most incredible night I have ever experienced. It changed me, It changed EVERYTHING! I can't . . . I can't go back to the way I was before you. I-"

"Can I get another Black Russian," Lacroix interrupted, turning away from the now crying Miho. Dark purple rivers started to drip down her cheeks. 

It took me a moment to realize he was talking to me. His piercing blue eyes were cutting apart my chest like knives. "Uh . . . sure. One sex-I mean 'sec.' One second."

I turned and marched to the nearest bar like my ass was on fire, and it almost felt like it was. My pussy was so hot and wet I might have left a trail of drops on the floor. The bartender was a skinny blonde thing wearing nothing but a bowtie and a black thong. She was chatting it up with a handsome brother, biting her lip nervously as he asked her what time she got off, making it fairly obvious that he wanted to 'get off.' I pushed him aside so hard that he fell out of his seat and hit his head against the table on the way down. 

"He! What're you-"

"A Black Russian!" I demanded. "Now!"

As I returned to Lacroix with his drink I saw that Miho had regained her composure, or at least most of it. Her legs were still trembling as she choked back the emotions pushing her to the verge of a sexual hysteria. My timing was perfect too. Lacroix had just planted a metal briefcase onto the glass table between them, and there was no doubt in my mind what it was: Ero. It had to all be Ero. Possibly a million dollars' worth. 

"And the money?" Lacroix was asking.

"In your private room," Miho said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. "Or you could . . . if you wanted to . . . come up to my room we could-"

"And there's my Black Russian," Lacroix said, once again ignoring the desperate crime-lord practically on her knees before him. "And brought to me by such a lovely black queen. What's your name, mon amour?"

"Tanya," I said, never breaking eye contact with him. As I placed his drink on the table and made sure to bend my ass over right in his face, letting him get a nice, big view of my delicious yams. I wasn't flirting though. I was just getting a better angle for my spy-cam to snap footage of the metal case. Really!

"I haven't seen you here before," he said. "I'm very familiar with the girls here, a little too familiar maybe, and I must say, you are quite the refreshment."

I refuse to believe that I was blushing, but there was no denying how soaked my thong was. "I'm just covering for a friend, serving drinks."

"You're not a dancer?" he asked, sounding a little coy and a little disappointed.

"I'm not working the poles tonight, but . . .," I let my gaze fall to his lap, and my jaw dropped when I saw the monstrous, impossible bulge growing there, " . . . but maybe I just haven't found the right pole yet." 

"Well tell you what, Tanya," he said, pronouncing my name like it was butter melting on his tongue, "why don't you come with me up to my private room and give me a private dance. I'll make sure you get what's coming to you."

Perfect! I thought, and definitely NOT because I wanted to take a horsey ride in this asshole's lap. He was going to make the switch between the money and the drugs in his room. I'd have the perfect opportunity to collect the evidence I needed to put his ass in jail for-fucking-ever.

"Lead the way," I said, tucking my tray under my arm and pouting my thick lips like an impatient little girl. 

He rose up to his feet with strong, feral grace, and although he was only about five inches taller than me he felt like a giant, and I was not a woman accustomed to feeling small. My ass was too much for most brothers to handle, and yet something about Lacroix made me think he could lift me up with one hand and throw me around a room like a blowup doll. 

He took my arm and led me away as the crime-lord Miho Koga, the Yakuza Queen, watched with the most bewildered look of betrayal on her face. She was stammering almost incoherently.

"Bastard . . . you piece of . . . wait!" she yelled at his back. "Please I . . . I killed my husband for-"

"Say hello to you daughter for me," Lacroix winked back at her. "I know she misses me just as much as you do."

#####

The moment the elevator doors opened I felt Lacroix's hand press firmly against my back, and he shoved me into the empty compartment. I hit the mirrored wall with a bouncy thud as the soft parts of my body jiggled from the unexpected impact, and my nipples grew hard from the sudden contact with the cold glass. It wasn't until right then that I realized how hot my body had become. I was burning up. 

Damn it! I dropped my tray though. It rolled on the floor and started to spin on it side like a big coin, and I held my breath hoping Lacroix wouldn't see the camera I had taped to the bottom. Thank God, the tray landed with the camera side down. 

"Hey!" I yelled. "What was that for-"

My question died with a wet muffle as his lips impacted with mine and his hot, impossibly strong tongue slipped into my mouth and subdued me. I had never understood that my mouth could be an erogenous zone, but I swear to God that this man had just found a g-spot hidden on the back of my mouth, and was tongue-fucking me towards a beautiful orgasm. His body pressed against mine, and I could feel just how hard his muscles were through the cool, smooth material of his clothing. Something about that feeling alone, the feeling of my naked body being caressed by a fully clothed man, it just made me feel so weak, and for some reason I liked that. No man had ever pleased me like Alessandra did . . . but no man had ever made me feel this way either . . . and . . . just . . . fuck.

As he pulled away a shimmering strand of saliva dangled from his lips, and it broke when I felt the heavy embrace of his body leave me cold. I think I might have actually whimpered like a pathetic little girl whose popsicle just been taken away. I slowly turned around, but I found my legs so wobbly that I had to lean against the mirror. My breasts were heaving and so sweaty that one of my pasties had just fallen off, and the now revealed nipple was over an inch erect. My hand sunk down to my tiny thong and I found the crotch of it soaking wet. The mere touch of my fingers was enough to send an almost painful tremble through my body. Holy shit . . . what was happening to me. 

"Ero!" I said.

Lacroix was smiling. He had pushed Ero into my mouth with his tongue. It must have dissolved during our kiss, which meant he was exposed to it too. Of course he was, the waves of heat coming from his body were so powerful it felt like they were pushing me down. But unlike me he seemed in control of his high, completely! I was Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, and he was Dionysus drinking his own wine. 

"Listen Tanya," he said with a tone that really sounded like 'listen BITCH,' "I'm not really interested in watching a dance. Truth be told, I just made a multi-million dollar sale and I want to celebrate, which in my mind mean spending a whole night doing nothing but having hard, hot sex."

"Why . . . why me . . . all those girls-"

"I've already fucked half those girls, and the other half are just . . . the same. Besides, when I'm on Ero I can't control myself. I fuck for as long, and as hard as I am able, and most girls simply can't keep up. The last stripper of Miho's I took, some redheaded farm girl with big, freckled tits, she ended up in the hospital. But you . . .," His strong hands gripped my buttocks and squeezed, and for the first time in my life I felt like my ass was small. He squeezed so hard that he actually started to lift me off the ground, and my breasts pressed against his cool silk short as I trembled on my tippy-toes. " . . . I think your body can take a beating. Even from a weapon like this."

His hips pushed against me only slightly, but something hanging between his legs pressed against my soaked cunt with the weight and thickness of a baseball bat. Impossible! It . . . it couldn't be-

DING!

Floor 69. We were here. 

#####

I had been so eager to follow him out of the elevator that I had almost left my tray, but at the last moment I managed a coherent thought and picked it back up, holding it behind my back like a little girl trying to hide something naughty. I was still on a mission here. I needed more photos. Photos of the drugs, photos of the money, photos of his hot . . . chiseled body . . . no! Concentrate! Fuck! 

He opened the door to his private room and I lost my breath when I took it all in. This room, which wasn't even his actual apartment, was bigger than any house I had ever lived in. The ceiling was higher than the church's I had gone to as a kid, and the entire far wall was nothing but giant windows gazing out over the twinkling skyline of Climax City. Piled up an a large glass table in the middle of the room was more cash than I had ever seen in my life. Even when divided into $100 bills, a million dollars was still a fucking lot of paper. 

"Holy shit, this is-"

Suddenly he was in front of me, taking of his coat with a strong, dominant flourish of his shoulders. I thought he was going to embrace me again so I prepared for another pussy-shattering kiss, but instead all I felt was his hand gripping the nape of my neck. He pushed my down, and suddenly I was on all fours, kneeling like a dog with my big ass higher than my head. Then I felt him plant his foot on my ass, the cold, dirty bottom of his shoe pressing against my firm flesh. 

"Now be a good girl and hold still," he said. "Daddy needs to untie his shoe laces."

Holy shit! He was using my as a fucking footstool! What the fuck! FUCK!

I wanted to scream, but when I tried all that came out was a hoarse, whiny little whisper. 

His Italian leather shoes fell to the floor, and then I heard him undoing buttons. I looked up and saw the only proof I needed to know God was real, because his chest was immaculate. Not hairless, but not hairy; glistening, but not sweaty; chiseled like a marble statue, but not bulging obscenely like some sort of bodybuilder. I think a tear rolled down my cheek as I admired him. Fuck Michelangelo. Eric Lacroix made David look a piece of shit. 

Lacroix was smiling down at his new bitch . . . me. 

"Want to help Daddy take off his belt?"

"Fffffffe! Fu . . . Fu-fu," I had actually forgotten how to speak. "Fuck you!"

I managed to get up without falling back over and I stumbled over to the nearest couch, my pussy so swollen that I had to walk with a wide gate like some kind of stupid cracka cowboy. 

"You know what?" I said. "Fuck you! I'm not attracted to gay-ass white boys like you, spending all your time doing crunches and shit, just so you can look like those faggots from those teen Vampire movies."




Eric Lacroix



"Are you sure, mon cher?" he laughed. "Because you're dripping all over my carpet."

I had to bite my lip to stop from screaming. "It's not you. It's the Ero. And even with this shit I bet you couldn't fuck me like a real man, like a BLACK man." Normally I didn't go race-baiting people, being a quarter white myself, but I wanted to humiliate this honkey-ass white boy wanna-be-thug. The hood-rat in me was coming out. Shit was about to get ghetto up in here. "What do I look like to you? One of those flat-ass white crack-whores downstairs? Or one of them pedophile-bait slant-eyed chink-bitches! Sheeeeet! Fuck that! I'm a real woman, and I fuck real men. Nine inches, white boy. Nine-fucking-inches!" I held my hands in front of my face to show him what nine inches looked like. "That's what I've been fucking with! What you got? Six? If you're lucky you've got six. And I know what you're thinking: 'But Taannnnyyyyaaa, six inches is aaaavvvveeerrrrrage.' Well fuck THAT! Three inches is a big fucking difference! Three inches is all it takes to separate a man from a boy, and a boy from a bitch! Three inches is what separates my g-spot from you tiny little prick, bitch! Those three inches are the reason yo momma left yo daddy, and yo first girlfriend lost her virginity to that nigga under the bleachers while you were busy playing Magic or Pokemon or some shit with your friends . . . . FAGGOT!" 

Damn. Where was all this coming from?

As I heaved and gasped, my last pasty falling off from the sweat dripping down my breasts, Lacroix just stood there with a look on his face like he was watching a child have a tantrum, never loosing even an ounce of his cool. 

"Mon cher, do you see that ruler over there on the table?"

I looked over and saw on a glass table there indeed was a shiny, metal twelve-inch ruler, resting near a small pile of powdered Ero. 

"Go get it," he said. 

I didn't respond at first, but for some reason I did as I was told. I moved over and grabbed it. The ruler was heavier than it looked and a little sharp. He had used into to smash Ero-pills into powder for snorting. 

"Now come over here, get down on your knees, and measure my fucking cock."

A shiver ran through my body when the word 'cock' hit me like a slap to the face. Something about the way he said it just made that word sound heavier. A cold, invisible hand moved up my spine, and I almost felt embarrassed, like a teenager seeing pornography for the first time. 

I did as I was told though, slowly getting to my knees since my wobbly legs were still being affected by the Ero in my system. The bulge in his pants looked huge, but I knew it had to be a trick of some sort. Maybe the drug was fucking with my sense of perception. The room was spinning a little, and the colors in the room seemed much more vivid than they should have. 

Taking in a deep breath, I grabbed the clasp of his belt, needing a surprising amount of strength to unclasp it. I tugged at the hemline of his pants, struggling with the zipper and button as I tugged down. Something big and thick was straining the hem, and I was having trouble pushing the pants over it, but I still refused to believe- 

SMACK! 

White stars bounced around my vision as I looked up to see a thick, vein covered forearm bearing down over me with threatening dominance, only it wasn't a forearm.

It was the biggest, thickest, longest, hardest, and baddest cock I had ever seen in my whole fucking life. It didn't even look possible, like it was inhuman, but at the same time it was also the most beautiful, mouthwatering piece of meat imaginable. My mouth popped into a big 'O' as my eyes bulged in awe. 

No. This couldn't be real.

"Measure it," he said. 

"I . . . it can't . . . but it isn't real-"

"I said measure it bitch!" he screamed, and although he didn't move to hit me I flinched as if he had. Suddenly my body was trembling for a reason other than my arousal. I was afraid. 

My hand shook as I brought the metal ruler up to his already adamantine-erect cock, almost dropping it as I pressed it against the rough, ridged underside. The bottom end of the ruler was barely touching the base of his cock where a big leathery sack stuffed with two apricots hung between his legs, and yet the tip of the ruler couldn't quite measure up to the bulbous, thick tip of his penis. Something was wrong, the ruler had to be missing a few inches.

"Measure . . . it . . . bitch." 

I did. With tears in my eyes, I did. 

"Te-twelve inches," I gasped, barely able to speak. "You're just over twelve inches." 

He smiled. He had won. "That's right bitch. So what was it you were saying about three inches?"

"I . . . I . . it doesn't matter how big you-mmphf!"

My words were shoved down my throat as the bulbous head of his cock suddenly rammed into my mouth, and slickened by his sweat and my own salivation it went eight inches deep in less than a second. My throat bulged so grotesquely that I was sure something was going to break, and that I was going to die, but instead my body's natural elasticity took over and I somehow managed it, even if I couldn't breathe at all. He was so deep that I could feel my tonsils resting in his cum-slit, and yet I was still looking at another four inches of thick meat protruding out of my mouth. 

Lacroix smirked dominantly. "Stupid bitch. I thought that would shut you up."

His strong hands gripped the sides of my head, his fingers pulsing with enough strength to crush my skull like an egg, but instead of slamming his cock deeper he actually began to pull out, but this was torture to because he went very slowly, and ever second I was getting closer to suffocating. His cock filled my throat so completely that as it slid out it created a suction, so what little air I had in my lungs was sucked out with it, and it almost felt like my chest was going to implode. The thick ridge of his helmet was so pronounced that it got hooked into my teeth, and he started to buck trying to get loose. My cheeks were sucked in as if I had just eaten a lemon, my fat lips polishing every centimeter of his pussy-pulverizer, and I tried to push his head out with my tongue, but all that did was tickle his salty urethra. 

"Fucking bitch! Let go!"

He open palm came down and hit my right on the forehead. My mouth came flying off the giant plug of his cockhead with a loud POP!, shooting large wads of spit in every direction. 

"uuuuuuUUUUUHHHH!" I inhaled, filling my lungs with much needed oxygen, but I choked on some of my own spit and began to cough uncontrollably, puking thick dollops of saliva all over my breasts. 

Through the tears and sparkling white lights in my eyes I looked up to see Lacroix, frowning down at me with intense disappointment.

"Fucking armature. Do you have any idea how rare it is for me to get a proper blowjob?"

He hands dove under my arms and he effortlessly lifted me up into the air like I was a child. The room spun as he flipped me over and sat me down on the couch upside-down, so that my ass was against the headrest and my head hung over the seat. I was looking up right at the angry slit of his mammoth cock, it's impossible length dripping with my saliva and glistening like polished wood. 

He pushed the dripping head of his gargantuan gash-breaker against my cheek, and it left a wet trail of sex as he rubbed his cock across my face. He wiped my crying eyes with the tip of his monster mast, collecting a thin sheen of tears as further lubrication for the oral punishment I knew I was about to receive. 

"Now, we're going to do this until we do it right," he said, once again pushing the globular head of his bitch-breaker against my pillowed lips, and all I could do was muffle and whimper pathetically as my jaw began to make way for another attack. I wanted to bite down, but no, I really didn't. My body wasn't under my control. 

He pushed in slower this time, working his fat cock inch by inch rather than just ramming it straight down. Once against I felt my throat swell to accommodate him, but this time it was a little easier, because this time my body knew to accept him. The damage was already done anyway, and I was sure that my voice was going to sound different after this devastating blowjob. My vision was dominated by the sight of his glistening shaft disappearing into my mouth, and then of his massive balls descending on my face. As I lost my ability to breathe, and his heavy sperm-tanks came to a rest on my eye-sockets, I knew that I had done it. I had taken all of him. I was kissing his salty, thick base. I had never been so proud of myself. I could feel his heart beating through his cock. 

"Good girl, mon cheri, good girl!" he praised me, gasping happily, and I felt my tits swelling with pride. "But let's see if you can take a fucking. Last girl I did this to broke her jaw." 

His balls flew back from my eyes, his impossible twelve inches of cock sliding out of my mouth with a loud slurping sound. He left the fat head in though, but I was able to inhale through my nostrils at least as long strands of spit began to ooze down my face. 

I felt one of his hands take a strong grip on my breasts, squeezing a nipple so hard that I could feel it turning purple, and his other hand rested on my sobbing cunt for support. His touch alone sent electric shivers through me, and I felt ready for him. 

"Alright bitch, here it comes."

SLAP!

His cock rocketed back it, wetly sliding a foot deep into my gullet as his balls slapped against my eyes. 

sssssSSSSLLLURP!

His cock withdrew again, and came back with a vengeance. Every thrust became faster, and harder, and wetter, and meaner, and angrier. His grip on my pussy started to tighten, two of his fingers singing into the wet folds of my cunt through the material of my neon green thong. His big, fat balls kept slapping me in the face as his titanic titty-fucker used my esophagus like a cheap sex-toy that could have broken for all he cared.

"Holy fuck . . . your throat . . . so smooth . . . so wet . . . so good."

"Mmmph, mmmmoooo," I muffled, either confessing my undying love for him, or begging him not to kill me, I wasn't sure, my mind was in a thousand different places. 

Suddenly I felt his big cock twitch, growing several centimeters more in diameter, pushing my jaw closer to the point of dislocating, and his balls seized up into his body and they began to pump visibly. His first blast of cum shot right into my stomach, punching my guts so hard I wanted to scream. The next shot came when he was pulling out, and so it filled my throat with so much hot cream that it gushed into my mouth like melted marshmallow. He slammed back in, dropping two more pumps directly into my stomach.

He roared and pulled at my thong, snapping it from my body like a rubber band, exposing my gushing pussy to his hungry mouth, and he dove in voraciously, his strong tongue thickly filling my pussy just as well as any cock ever had, and like a sexual sniper he found my g-spot instantly and killed the bitch. Even as I was gagging on his cock and trying to cough up the copious cum-load filling me, I shook with erotic spasms from what was probably the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life, my vagina spraying honey like a broken faucet. He kissed my pussy like a true, passionately lover, slurping up my juice, all the while fucking my mouth as if it were the dirtiest pussy to ever walk the earth. 

When he pulled back his cum-slickened cock slid all the way out of my mouth, but the head got caught in my teeth again, and within seconds my mouth was so full of semen that it began to shoot out of my nose like milk. I tried to swallow it all down, but there was simply too much and it came too fast. My mouth filled, and my cheeks swelled to the point of popping, and his head exploded from my cock. Several more thick ropes of his baby-batter jizzed across my face and tits, frosting me like a chocolate birthday cake with vanilla spread.

He stood over me jacking his cock with both hands, sighing loudly as his chiseled body quaked with the intense aftershock of his orgasm. I could only see out of one eye because the other was so caked in cum, but I looked up at him still with complete and utter devotion, even as I involuntarily vomited up most of the delicious milk he fed me, my breasts bouncing painfully on my quivering chest. 

"Well, I always said that if she could suck dick half as well as she ate pussy then she'd be able to take you."

That voice! The beautiful, feminine voice!

I tried to roll over but I couldn't, my body was too stiff and exhausted, but I strained my neck to see her. The woman standing in the doorway was one of the most lovely creatures I had ever witnessed to exist. Tan skin, curly light brown hair, high cheekbones, and hot, heavy eyes. She was wearing tight white pants that hugged her slender buttocks like a layer of paint, and over her firm, perky breasts she wore an open white blazer, but that was all. There was nothing under the jacket but a gold chain that almost matched the color and sheen of her skin. She was holding her hands on her hips, her legs spread wide, and she had the most devilish smile on her face. The thing that stood out most of all was the collar around her neck though. Now that I was seeing it in person it was painfully obvious what it was, despite being gold plated. It was a dog's collar. It was a bitch's collar. 

"Ale-(cough, cough)-Alessandra," I choked past all the cum blocking up my throat. 

She sighed loudly. "Hello, Tanya."

"So this was your partner on the force, back when you two were beat cops," Lacroix asked, working out the last thick dollops of cum from his deflating (but still superior) cock.

Alessandra nodded her head.

"Tanya Washington," Lacroix continued. "Your . . . can I say . . . girlfriend? Your lover? The one you met in college?"

Alessandra frowned shyly and blushed. "It was just a stage, Daddy. I've never loved anyone but you. Not really."

"Alley," I choked through the semen. "You told him about . . . about us?"

Allesandra snorted. "There is no US, Tanya, and this stupid plan of yours was a farce from the beginning. Did you really think this was going to work?" she said to me, sounding and looking very upset. "Did you really think that you could sneak in here and . . . what? Rescue me? Bitch, look around! Look at how I'm living! Why would I want to be 'rescued?' Why would I want to go back to being a fucking cop, busting my ass trying to put away punks who make ten times the money I do, and live more in a week than I would in a lifetime?"

"Because I-(cough, cough)-love-"

SLAP!

Her hand slapped across my face so hard that it painted the nearby wall with sperm. 

"Love?" she laughed. "Fuck you, you fat dyke!" I watched as Lacroix put his hand around her waist, and she melted against his chest like a piece of golden butter on a hot loaf of bread, her slender hand stroking his dripping cock back to its full erectness. 

"How could I ever love anything but . . . mmm . . .this?"

She held the cock up to my face, as if I had never seen it before, even though it had just made love to the opening of my stomach. 

Alessandra leaned over my face, her lips hovering centimeters away from mine. I could smell the gin on her breathe, even through the fog of salty musk. 

"Daddy heard about what you did to Candy. That poor little slut. You ruined her, you know. Maybe permanently. And you did that to her just to get here, just to catch Daddy doing something naughty, and to bring me back so we can play lesbo-house together. Pathetic. I just want you to know, fuck-bag, that Daddy and I, what you did to Candy, we're going to do the same to you."

I watched helplessly as she withdrew a Ero-pill from her pocket, placed it on her tongue, and leaned down to give me a big, sloppy, perfect kiss; pushing the pill into my semen-saturated mouth as her tongue outmaneuvered mine with erotic grace. As the pill dissolved and attacked my body I could literally feel my clit spring back up, as hard and as erect as a teenage penis. 

Alessandra laughed. "That's two hits, bitch. One more and . . . well . . . you already know."

#####

They drug kicked in fast. I wasn't a person anymore, I was just a sexual, hot piece of flesh that was horny as all fuck. I would have done anything to get some love, and dirty, depraved thing that was asked of me, and I would have followed the chiseled god that was Eric Lacroix to the ends of the fucking earth just to feel his cock inside me. 

Lucky for me, I didn't have to go that far, but although I would have followed him like the obedient fuck-toy I now was, he still felt it necessary to grip me by the nape of the neck, push me to all fours, and lead me along the carpeted floor like an untrained bitch.

Alessandra went ahead of us, and as I followed her I knew she was undressing even though Lacroix wouldn't let me look up. I knew this because I was crawling over her discarded clothes First I crawled over her white blazer, then her tight white pants, and finally a lacey white thong of material so sheer it must have been transparent on her.

They led me into a bedroom with a large, white bed and a huge balcony overlooking the hot city below. Alessandra was already naked except for her collar as she crept onto the bed, her perfect ass swaying hypnotically. There was something new about her: a tattoo. Right in the deep cleavage of her ass there was a small tramp-stamp of a black fleur-de-lis, Eric Lacroix's perosal symbol, except over hers was a small crown. That crown must have signified her as the queen of his bitches. 

Lacroix pulled me by the neck into a standing position, and he roughly led me over to a small coffee table. From a nearby drawer he pulled out a big, fat dildo that rivaled Jerome in sheer misogynistic size, but it still failed to compare to Lacroix's living pussy-punisher, which was already hardening again despite the gallon of spunk he had nearly drowned me in. He placed the dildo on the table, cockhead sticking straight up. 

"Sit on it," he commanded. 

I would have obeyed, I really would have, but he didn't even give me time. He strongly pulled me around him, lowering my swollen, hot pussy onto the unlubricated head of the giant rubber cock, but the moment the first inch pushed its way into my warm pocket I nearly pissed it wet with cum. I lowered myself down slowly, every inch causing me so much excruciating pleasure that it felt like I was going to throw up.

I was already four inches down, but that wasn't fast enough for Lacroix. He had lost patience with me. 

"I said sit on it, bitch!"

His strong, rough hands gripped my shoulders, and with one easy push he slammed by body down onto the cock that my ass cracked the table and the big rubbery balls nearly sunk inside me. The feeling of the hard cockhead smacking against my cervix plus its full length gliding over my enraged clit was too much. I leaned back and screamed as a painful orgasm jiggled through my body. 

"fu-fu-FFFFUUUUUCCCKK!!!" I cried, legs shivering with little spasms as I stained both the table and carpet under me. 

Lacroix chuckled a little. "Dirty slut."

He groped one of my big, fat tits, holding it up in his hand as if he were inspecting the freshness of a cantaloupe. He raised is other hand, and then brought it down with a vicious slap across my tit.

SLAP!

"eee . . . EAK!" I whimpered, my breast bouncing up and down from the titty-smack. 

Despite the strange, arousing pain that was melting my brain, I still felt the overwhelming urge to fuck, so when I saw his cock bobbing in front of my face, fully erect and terrifying, I leaned in submissively and tried to taste it with my tongue. He pulled away though, his bulbous head evading my tongue by such little distance that a drop of his cock-sweat actually fell into my mouth, and the salty taste made me shiver. I cried as he continued to pull away, his salty balls hanging just beyond the tip of my tongue.




Eric Lacroix



"No, bitch. You had your turn. Now be a good slut and sit."

Lacroix's muscular ass filled my vision as he turned and mounted the bed. Alessandra had her face down, her ass up, and she was wiggling her body for attention. She cried out erotically as Lacroix's hands gripped her slender waist, bringing an end to her sexual wiggling, and he began to slide the incredible length of his cock up and down the crevice of her pussy and ass. Like a skilled violinist testing his instrument, he played her body to create the most mind-blowing, erotic music. As his hard shaft stroked her anus she whimpered with fear, but when he stroked her clit she had to bite a pillow to stop from screaming. 

She was already so wet that I could see her trembling legs dripping with cum, and when he entered her it was like a baseball bat striking a chunk of watermelon. Her head reared back so fast that she tore a hole in her pillow, and a cloud of fluffy white feathers clung to her hot, sweaty chest.

I don't know for how long Lacroix fucked Alessandra. It felt like an eternity, like an endless heaven of godly sex. I was lost in a hot, sticky, frustrating world of carnal pleasure as I watched two sexual deities vie for control of the universe, but it was very clear from the beginning which of them was more powerful, and which of them wanted nothing more than to just submit. Lacroix bent Alessandra into every shape and angle humanly possible, and I'm sure if it hadn't been for the years she spent as a advanced yoga teacher during college, Alessandra would not have survived the fucking Lacroix was giving her. 

When their earth-shattering copulation came to an end, Alessandra was laying on her back, deep in a damp swamp of ruined sheets and torn pillows. Her breasts heaved as she gasped loudly for air, her limbs still shivering from an onslaught of relentless orgasms.

Lacroix mounted her one final time, thrusting his thick meat between her breasts and into her hot, slobbering mouth. She looked up at him with wide, worshipful eyes as he simultaneously fucked her tits and her mouth, and with every thrust he went deeper, his balls sliding closer and closer to her chin.

But despite what an epic slut Alessandra was, she was still not Lacroix's equal. When his ninth inch slid into her stretched, sucking mouth, she began to choke. Her eyes rolled back, her chest flexed in almost disgusting detail, and she began to spasm in a desperate, animalistic attempt to escape. She was gagging like some slutty eighteen year old going down on her first big cock (which I had witnessed our freshman year), and although her cheeks were turning blue and spit bubbled from her nose, Lacroix wouldn't let her go. 

"So close," he grunted. "You were so close this time, you fucking cunt." 

Just as I thought Alessandra was going to pass out form asphyxiation, he pulled out, his cock exploding from her mouth with a dozen long, slobbery tendrils. He rose off of her like an angry titan over a conquered goddess, and her body flopped over gulping down loud mouthfuls of air. She was breathing so violently that he breasts bounced around her glistening chest, and her arms clawed at the sheets. As soon as she had caught her breath I realized she was crying. 

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm sorry Daddy. I tried so hard. No one . . . (cough, cough) . . . there's no one who can swallow that whole cock without gagging."

I was watching my ex-partner and ex-lover apologize to the man who stole her from me because she wasn't a good enough slut, but instead of feeling angry or jealous all I felt was disgust. Disgust with her. What was she doing with Eric Lacroix if she couldn't even suck his cock? He deserved better than her. Daddy deserved me.

"I can," I said, slowly emerging from my own sexual fog. I had been grinding myself against the fat dildo this whole time, but when Eric's divine body stopped moving so did mine. He was the ocean's tide, I was just mermaid caught in it. "I can suck his cock."

Eric looked at me for the first time without an arrogant smirk on his face. "Alright. Let's see it."

Alessandra's eyes went wide with tears. She looked back and forth between the two of us. "Na-NO! Daddy! Not her! Not that fat dyke!"

My legs shook as I stood up, and my pussy loudly slurped as it came off the nine, soaking inches of dildo. I picked it up and brought it to my mouth, first giving the rubber helmet a teasing little kiss, and then in one, masterful stroke I sucked it balls deep. All nine inches went down my throat and back out again without so much as I hiccup. My puffy lips smiled dominantly as I brought it back out, sucked so clean that it was almost dry. 

Alessandra was enraged. Of course this dildo was nothing compared to a real, hot, pulsing dick, but I had made my point and humiliated her. She stood up, almost falling as her knees shook, but then she charged at me. 

"Bitch! I'll kill-"

WHACK!

I cock-slapped her across the face with the dildo so hard that she spun on her feet. She fell against the cracked table I had been fucking myself on and shattered through it. She let out a small, feminine whimper as she lost consciousness.

I dropped the dildo between her perfect breasts as I strutted over to where Lacroix was waiting for me, kneeling on the edge of the bed. I smiled into his gorgeous face as I glided to my knees, the head of his cock slapping against my cheek a little. I needed both hands just to get a grip on him he was so fucking thick, but I knew I could handle it. I was born for this. 

Running my tongue playfully over his head, I traced the deep ridge of his helmet, and tickled the opening hole of his urethra, but he seemed unimpressed. Nothing I could do would surprise him, nothing but take him to the base under my own power. I'm sure he had gone balls deep into other girls, but always by plowing them with his unstoppable hips, and I'm sure that one or two of them had not survived the pleasure of being his fuck-toy. 

But I was going to survive, and I was going to impress him. 

Inhaling deeply, I pushed myself forward, my lips sucking down inch after glistening inch of hard, pulsing flesh. I felt my body wanting to gag only by the sixth inch. He was so thick, his taste so strong, that I think some part of me knew if I kept going I was going to surrender myself to him completely, and that part wanted to stay free. Well, that part of me had to go. I was going to be Eric's slut. I wanted to be his fuck-toy. He was my Daddy!

I pushed, my throat opening up like it never had before, and when I felt my chin mashing against the thick, heavy skin of his scrotum I could have died right then from happiness. I looked up at him, has face smiling past his labyrinth of shiny muscles, and even though my thick lips were stretched to the limit I think he knew I was smiling back.

His hands fell against the back of my head, gripping my short hair, and he started to pump my throat with slow, powerful thrusts. I could feel the flanged head of his cock sliding up and down my esophagus, tickling and choking me at the same time, but I kept my cool and never lost control. In fact, I was loving it.

He picked up his pace, his balls slapping against my chin, his cock causing my fat lips to distend from my mouth so far I could see them. He was going faster and harder, his hips a sexy blur in the dark, steamy room, but I never let myself gag. Gagging would have been a failure, a rejection of his perfect, delicious cock. 

"Ta-tanya," he moaned. "Holy shit! TANYA!!!"

His first shot went straight into my stomach, and the rest filled my mouth, but I never let a single drop flood past my lips, even though it felt like I was gulping down more thick, salty batter than my body could handle. He tried to pull out, but I wouldn't let him. My hands gripped his firm buttocks and I held up deep, my chin once again digging into his testicles as I pressed my nose against his rock-hard crotch. Almost a minute passed before he stopped shuddering from what I was sure was the best orgasm he had gotten in years. 

I quickly slid off, slurping loudly as I went, but never losing control. When I got to his thick, flanged helmet I didn't get stuck this time, but I gracefully popped off with a satisfying smack. His cock was left clean and shiny. Not a single precious drop of his cum had gone to waist. If it had, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself.

I gulped the last of it down, and when it was gone I licked my lips clean. 

"Ho-holy shit!" he actually stuttered. "That was-"

"Amazing?" I interrupted. I smiled like a naughty kitten who just found a fat milk-filled piece of meat to suck on. "Daddy, you haven't seen nothing yet."

I rolled back, spread my legs, and offered up my hot, swollen, desperately dripping vagina, and he destroyed it. 

#####

That night I became a new person. The heat from Daddy's cock melted me down into nothing, and then he reshaped me, his fiery cock like a blacksmith's hammer, and that bed the anvil. I was so accustomed to being the dominant one, to being the girl on top, whose big ass slapped niggas into submission and made them cry for mommy, but Eric could have swept me away with the back of his hand. My big ass was nothing to him, and he nearly split it into two pieces as he fucked me into a wild delirium. I knew he was fucking me harder than any bitch he had ever fucked before, and I was taking it like the special little cock-pillow I was. As beautiful and sexy as Alessandra was, I knew she could never have taken punishment like this. Eric was a god of destruction, and I was his perfect instrument, born specifically to satisfy his unstoppable sexual rage. Eric wanted to take fucking to a new level, and I was the only bitch who could go there with him and come back. 

#####

I saw Alessandra stumbling out of the bedroom around noon the next day, looking exhausted and confused, her naked body filthy with dried sexual fluids. And she saw me too, my face bobbing up and down on Daddy's big, perfect cock while he ate breakfast at the table.

"Mu-mu collar?" Alessandra stuttered, her slender hands rubbing her naked neck. "Where's my-"

And then she saw it: the gold plated bitch-collard Daddy had given her. I was wearing it.

Daddy's hands fell to my head as he came again, my cheeks instantly swelling with his large load. As I gulped it down I smiled at her; my hot, heavy eyes saying everything she need to know. 

She had been replaced. I was Daddy's new favorite.

"We're going to have to talk about getting that tattoo removed," I said to her through a semen-saturated mouth. Her hands intuitively fell to her special tramp stamp, the fleur-de-lis with the crown. She whimpered as she realized she was going to lose everything Eric had given her. She was going to lose it to me. "I'm the queen bitch now."

(This was a commissioned story. If you like it you can contact me for any comments, questions, critiques, hate mail, or commissions of your own).