Vanessas Downfall

Call me Vanessa. Some years ago, never mind how long precisely -- having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me as far as going to college, I thought I would see what the seeder side of the world was like.

I remembered watching an interview with the exotic dancer Katie Morgan. The interviewer asked her, "but isn't the exploitation degrading?"

Katie answered, "I own a beach-front mansion in Malibu. I drive a Jaguar. I work maybe four or five days a month. I am 22 years old and my net worth is nearly 6 million dollars. What makes you so sure that I'm not the one exploiting you?"

So, as soon as I turned 18, I turned my talents to exotic dancing.

I am just a touch on the tall side. Many people think I am tall, but its an illusion. I am slim and long-legged, with a long throat. Those things and my body language seem to delude people into thinking I am tall. But, I'm about average height for a girl.

I am very fair-skinned; I like to think, porcelain. My natural hair color is soft sandy reddish. I often streak with a darker red, or highlight with blond to a very nice strawberry. I have nice wide hips and a slender little waist, which I work hard to maintain. I am fit, but still girl soft. I have big, loving, grayish blue, doe-like eyes.

I keep my hair long so that I can curl, wave, kink, bun, tiara, beehive, whatever I want with it. I am lucky that my hair is much more agreeable to styling and training into different sets than most girls'. A simple change in hair style can really change my look; an asset in my chosen profession.

My best physical asset is probably my natural body language; men love to watch me move. I am an excellent dancer.

My breasts are smallish, but are perfect for my frame and complexion. My aureoles are dark and wide against my small pure white breasts, with pretty conical nipples, lighter in color, more pink than my aureole. My flower petals are thick and flared out, well, like a flower, and my clitoris is quite large. When dancing, I keep myself completely shaved.

I was hired before I got more than 2 steps through the door. Not actually, but figuratively.

Because I was young and with my very fair white complexion, I felt I was better suited to lingerie than bikinis. So, I usually danced in lingerie types of costumes with lots of jewelry and platform heels (dominas, also known as screamers). You have to be thin, accustomed to walking and dancing in heels, and coordinated to dance sensually in those. Most ordinary women buy those shoes simply to wear during sex. The other girls were impressed by the way I could dance in them.

I usually chose romantic cool jazz and jazzy remixes to dance to. The bikini dancers do more of the rap or heavy metal. The cheerleaders do the 50s songs, the costume people have their things. Since I was the lingerie angel of the bedroom type, I was all softness, lace, fragility, my music was usually slower. On occasion I would do metal songs, or Goth music, or try different outfits. Generally though, I was the soft, loving bedroom fantasy.

It worked for me. Quite often I was the featured dancer, the girl on the marquee. I could make $400 to $1000 in one 3-4 hour shift. All I did was love myself to music, bask in adoration, and have money (literally) thrown at my feet. Of course I was usually dancing for drooling baboons and drunken softball teams.

I stayed away from drugs, alcohol, even tobacco. I planned to get out, before the drugs, goofiness, and other crap could ruin me. I made tons of cash very very fast and socked it away with a professional investment firm. If a dancer doesn't waste her money on deadbeat boyfriends, drugs, or other nonsense, it's really easy to save and invest a lot of cash, very fast. Their is no "down season" for 50 year old white men wanting to spend all their cash making giggling teenage girls smile and squirm. Men are such fools.

I had very little sexual experience before I started dancing. The two boys I had been with in high school were, for the most part, disappointing. They claimed that my vagina was too tight and hot, which made them cum so quickly.

And after I started dancing I went out with middle-aged white guys. The other girls made fun of me, but after all, that's where the money is. I was a very practical girl, all about being financial successful.

One fateful day that all changed. Looking back, I now know I was nothing more than a naive naked teenager selling herself onstage.

That day, as I finished my stage set, the Den Mother approached me saying, "An important customer has asked you to dance for him."

With that she led me to a booth where there were three black men each wearing tons of bling.

The tallest, and obviously the most important of the trio, already had two other girls lap dancing and cuddling him. By that time, I had been around long enough to recognize a drug lord when I saw one.

I started dancing for him too. I was rubbing my butt up against his crotch giving him a good lap dance when I felt the largest cock I had ever encountered. I mean, I'd been with what I thought were big men by that time, but what I was feeling was bigger than anything I could imagine possible.

I looked over my shoulder at him, my eyes wide in disbelief. What I was feeling was just insane.

He was visibly entertained by my reaction.

Turning to his companions he said, "I gotta have this one."

He got up, grabbed my wrist and started leading me out of the club.

I was in shock. Socializing with patrons was strictly against club rules. While it was common for the girls to make discrete "arrangements", that was always done out of sight of club management. The Den Mother just smiled approvingly as he drug me out of the club in my skimpy attire.

Getting into a totally decked out Caddy, complete with driver, we were off and on our way to I had no idea where. I was terrified; had no idea if I would see another day. After all, girls do just disappear from strip clubs.

I felt like a slave, just purchased. All I had was my stage outfit of a white see through lingerie top and equally transparent bikini bottom. It was early spring and there was a definite chill in the air.

Trying to keep the rising fear out of my voice, I asked, "Could I borrow a cell phone to call a friend?"

"You won't need that," he replied abruptly.

He could see I was nervous and scared. "We just goin ta my place for a little private dancin'."

His reassurance didn't make me feel any better. I was sure all murders use reassuring words.

Shortly the driver turned into a crappy place in a run down section of the city. It was a crumby old brick building in a rotten old industrial neighborhood.

My fear increased even more. I visualized my brutalized body being found next to a heap of rubbish.

With foreboding, but having no real alternative, I allowed myself to be led inside. We entered through a rusty steel door.

I wasn't prepared for the inside. It looked like the Ritz. The interior was completely refurbished. It was obvious that money was no obstacle. New hard wood flooring, plush rugs, leather furniture, chrome and marble everywhere. Sure, there were security systems, and all the windows were either glass-blocked or barred, but that was overwhelmed by the opulence of the furnishings.

It was obvious that this man liked his comfort, but didn't want to be noticed.

A man on a mission, he immediately put on some music.

Without saying a word, he motioned me to him. We danced together for a few slow-grooving songs. He held me close to him, pulling my slim white body against his. His size dwarfed me.

I could feel his strength. I could easily feel his muscles through his shirt as we moved in time to the music, so unlike any other man I had ever danced with.

There was something about him. I was terrified by him, but yet, in his arms, I felt protected. I felt so tiny, helpless and vulnerable. I was very much in need of his protection. The fear was still there, deep down I was still wary.....but I was loosening up, despite my concerns.

He looked down upon me as I glanced up at him. He brought his full Negro lips to mine. I responded instinctively. We kissed. His mouth had a different feel from any I had kissed before.

His tongue invaded my mouth. I accepted and responded to his intrusion working my own tongue against his.

I never thought of Negro features being handsome. But I was beginning to associate such features with great strength, and power...and domination.

I could feel his dark, savage lust rising. As he pressed me to him, I again felt the rising bulge at his crotch. I felt that unbelievably large appendage of his beginning to harden from my presence.

In spite of my predicament, I realized a growing feeling of satisfaction that I was pretty and sexy enough to have been selected by this obviously wealthy and powerful man, and that I was the cause of his rising excitement.

He guided our dancing into the master bedroom.

I couldn't believe it, this guy had a stripper pole in his bedroom! Now THAT is a bachelor pad. He also had guns, brass knuckles and all kinds of other unpleasant things there. When he closed the door, I again felt those opposing emotions of security and fear.

I felt a need to know why I was there. I asked him, "Why did you pick me out? Out of all the girls, why have you brought me here?"

He simply replied, "You look real fine, and I like the way you acted when you felt the size of my Niggah dick. You young, and I bet you never been wit a REAL man before. I like to break in little white girls like you."

I asked him, "Why'd the Den Mother let you take me like that? No one is supposed to accompany any of the girls away from the club."

"THAT, " he snapped, "is none of your fuckin business, and you better off not knowin."

Saying nothing more, he sat on a leather couch that faced the stripper pole.

Knowing what he wanted, I started to dance for his sole entertainment. Once again I started to fall under his spell. Just his countenance exuded authority and demanded obedience. As I swayed to the music, I soon lost my flimsy top. I danced slowly, my lily white bare breasts and pink nipples now the focal point of his gaze. My nipples stood straight out from the chill in the room...and my own growing excitement.

It was very strange. In spite of, or perhaps because of, my fear and feeling of absolute vulnerability, I too was aroused. I felt my pussy getting damp in anticipation of what was sure to come.

As erotically as I could I slipped off my bikini bottom, revealing my smooth, bare, white pussy for his dark eyes to feast upon. I was wearing nothing but my spiked heels.

I danced as he leered hungrily at the white teenager who he was shortly about to ruin.

I knew it was in my best interests to please the dark and dangerous man before me, but I also felt a primal draw. It was a draw that I had never felt before. It was instinctual. Before me was a true Alpha male, one who, despite my misgivings, made me want to please him as no man ever had before.

Something in his expression told me what to do next. I danced over to him on my knees. I pressed my pale naked body against his legs and wondrously enormous erection.

I unfastened his pants, freeing the blackest, largest, ugliest cock I had ever seen. I never dreamed a cock could be so huge. It was 13 or 14 inches long, very thick and freakishly covered in veins and knots.

For a moment, I just stared in shocked bewilderment.

He was too big to throat or even get my mouth around the head. Slowly I started to lick, suck and kiss that black phallus. I moved my tiny white fists along the entire length, not able to close finger to thumb, massaging, rubbing, marveling at enormity of his sex.

I was under his spell, on my knees, aroused, so aroused. I felt so pretty. I wanted to make it the prettiest sight he ever saw as he looked down upon me. My hips began to dip and swirl around the small of my back. I held my breasts against his legs so I could brush my taught nipples along them as I moved. I felt so sexy in my submission.

As I felt the bubble of clitoral orgasm building, I slid closer, tighter against him. Placing my thighs around one large foot, I rubber my clit against his ankle. I wrapped myself around him and let sweet orgasms bathe my soul.

All the while, I continued to run my tongue and mouth over his massive cock glistening even blacker from my own saliva. I was mesmerized by it's strange texture, the large veins and knots, so different from anything I had ever imagined.

I could even feel his pulse through his rock hard cock, and it was so heavy! I felt so triumphant knowing I was the reason he was so hard, so excited. I felt so sexy and beautiful knowing it was his desire for my feminine treasures that brought about such arousal from such a splendid super-human male.

As he looked down at me he said, "Damn, that's so cute, the way you white girls do that."

Unlike all other times when I gave oral sex to establish control over a man, or just to be kind, this was so different. It felt so natural that I should be participating in an act of the most sublime sexual subservience. My orgasms came as a bubble, welling up inside me, until they burst over me one after the other.

As I continued mouthing his black cock, he began running his fingers through my long red hair, as if admiring it's fineness and softness. I couldn't help notice the difference between my hair and his coarse curly pubic hair. We were so in contrast to each other. Me, soft, white, feminine; him, hard, black, and super masculine.

I felt him tense, his hand grasping a handful of hair, not pulling, but simply holding onto it. With a grunt, he bathed my face in an incredible torrent of cum. The blast of his black seed caught me by surprise. Up to that time, I had only experienced the little spurt white guys cum, but this was so totally different. The volume of sperm was unbelievable, and it just kept coming, stream after stream of hot sticky cum. The first blast I caught in my mouth, but it's shear volume and force quickly overwhelmed me. I swallowed what I could as the rest splashed over my face and hair, cascading down unto my chest and breasts. The force of his ejaculation was so great that I instinctively turned my face away as his Negro seed covered my eyes and nose.

When the torrent was finally over, he stood and began to undress. Still on my knees, I looked up as he removed his shirt revealing an upper torso so taut that I could see his muscles rippling under his black flesh. He was all lean muscle. His chest and upper arms were scared, the scars standing out even blacker against his dark flesh. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants and shorts. I could see that the scars also marked his upper thighs and ass. After reaching down to pull off his socks, he stood completely naked before me, his cock standing straight out, amazingly even harder than before his recent climax.

The sight was truly frightening. His body language spoke of unbelievable power, balance and resolve. It was clear that there was no way that I could stop him from his goal of ravishing my young, pale body. Not that I wanted to. By that time, in spite of the fear he engendered deep inside me, I felt a need to submit to his will and allow him to use my body to satisfy his dark, savage, craven needs.

Gazing up in awl upon that marvelous and frightening human specimen I wiped his cum from my eyes and face with my hand, licking my fingers clean. It was an unconscious act of submission and respect.

After watching me for a bit, he reached down and scooped me up in his strong ebony arms as if I were weightless. A few steps brought us to his bed where he gently deposited me on my back with my hips right on the edge of the bed.

He wasn't rough or brutal, he broke me, smoothly, with control and power. I won't deny lots of pain and crying. But, he was highly skilled.

With his feet still on the floor he leaned over me and drew my knees up, spreading my legs. I felt the head of his massive cock pushing against the entrance of my pussy already slick from my own orgasms.

I knew it would be painful to have a phallus as thick as his penetrating my vagina, but I was totally submissive, a willing accomplice as a result of his overwhelming masculinity.

Slowly I felt him push past my labia, stretching the entrance of my vagina as he gently forced his way deeper inside my welcoming white body.

I let out a small gasp as the head of his cock buried itself fully inside of me. I felt myself being stretched like never before.

I tried to relax every muscle in my body so that I might stand a chance of accommodating his immense girth.

He paused for a moment letting me catch my breath.

"You sure a tight little white girl." He proclaimed before adding, "Jess the way I like em."

Then he slowly started to work himself further into me. He'd swivel his hips a little, push in a little further, then retreat some before working himself in a little bit further.

This went on for I don't know how long. I yielded to his invasion as much as I possibly could. I felt the pain of my vagina being stretched far more than I ever imagined possible.

All the while, the stimulation just kept increasing. His great size was contacting so many nerve endings at once. In spite of the pain, or perhaps because of it, I started orgasming again. But this time they weren't clitoral orgasms, but full vaginal orgasms. They started in my vagina and radiated out through my extremities. Orgasms stronger than I had ever experienced before. Wave after wave they hit me.

As I writhed on his cock, he continued his assault, working himself ever deeper until he bottomed out against my cervix.

I felt him hit bottom and knew that he was further inside me than any man had ever been.

He paused there for a while as if to assess my condition.

He must have been able to feel my vagina contracting around his big black cock as my orgasms continued unabated.

My pussy was clamped onto his black baby stick contracting and pulsating. I was completely lost in orgasmic bliss.

I was lost in waves of pain and sexual euphoria.

I was as sexually conquered as I could possibly be.

That was when he took my ass with one massive hand and raised me just so my hips were a little higher than his That allowed him to thrust up toward my stomach. His other hand was on my stomach as he started pressing his cock head against my cervix.

I was confused, I didn't know what to expect or what to do. I was so engulfed in orgasmic euphoria that I simply yielded myself to him completely.

I was completely at the mercy of a bad-assed nigger enraged with lust to bred my frail white body.

Finding the opening to my womb, angling low, he thrust hard up and forward, letting out a yell of pain as the end of his rock hard cock bent slightly as it entered my womb.

It appeared as if a fist was moving under the skin of my stomach.

I let out a scream as pain more intense than I had ever before experienced engulfed me.

Then I just sobbed and panted in submissive shock. He worked himself a little further into the core of my womanhood and began to twist back and forth massaging my cervix with the head of his cock.

I was racked in paralyzing agony. Then I started becoming numb to the pain. It was still there, but all I could do was let go and trust in the skill of the human horse who was plumbing the innermost depths of my body.

My poor punished cervix, having just been crushed open, started to go into contractions giving his cock the massage that would normally push out a baby.

He leaned into me roaring.

I was nearly paralyzed, and oblivious to anything else from the prolonged pain caused by his apple sized cock head and arm thick cock buried far into me. He was where no man was meant to be.