Whitegirls Like You Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - Black Fucked

The clock on the studio wall blinked past 11:00 p.m., but Millie didn't care. She was sprawled on the worn velvet couch in Studio B at

White Hot Pop

, barefoot, loose in her favorite oversized hoodie―Markus', actually―and

nothing else

. She was glowing from another marathon session.

The past week had flown by in a haze of sound and rhythm and heat.

Gone were the second-guessing and inner tension that had followed her into their earlier sessions. Earlier that week, she had gone in for a blowout and a hair dye, taking her blonde hair several shades lighter still. She had eaten up the praise Markus gave her the next day at the studio. Not she planned to grow it out long too, at least to mid-back. Whatever questions she'd had about her image, her direction, or even herself, were quiet now. There was only the music. And Markus.

Especially

Markus.

He stood behind the glass now, laying down a verse with his signature flow―smooth and hard-edged all at once. Every line dropped like a match on gasoline. Watching him work was like watching a storm spin itself into perfect rhythm.

Millie bit her lip, unable to suppress a smile. He made her

so fucking wet

.

She had stopped trying to analyze the partnership. Stopped trying to reconcile her old self with this new world she was stepping into. It wasn't about questions anymore. It was about feeling―and she felt good. No, she felt right. This is what she had been born for.

Every day felt like freedom. Markus challenged her, teased her, pushed her, but he also made her laugh, made her sing with more confidence, made her feel like she was more than enough―not because of who she used to be, but because of who she was becoming. A true

Black

cock slut.

There was only one problem though. She still hadn't gotten Markus to take her virginity. What kind of

Black

cock slut is still a virgin!? But whatever-sure it bothered her a lot-but she was happy to take whatever Markus felt to give her. Lately that meant a daily shafting of her throat in the back of his limo and an

ooey-gooey

treat for her as a reward when he dropped her off at the mansion.

He was waiting for her in the booth now. Through the glass, he lifted his chin, signaling her in.

Millie jumped to her feet, energy buzzing in her veins. She slipped her headphones on as she stepped into the recording booth beside him, feeling the beat thump through the floor, up her spine, into her chest. Markus gave her a sly grin. The beat slipped down to her pussy, making her clit throb with need.

"You ready, baby?"

She grinned back. "Always."

The track dropped in again. The world melted away.

There was no more worrying about headlines. No more calculating how she'd be perceived. No more pressure to explain herself to the world. Not here.

In the booth―with Markus, with the music―Millie had never felt more like herself.

Or perhaps she hadn't felt like herself at all. At least not her old self.

Maybe that was the point. She didn't need to think. She didn't need to be Millie Lucas anymore, the pop star, the girl next door, the good little role model. Here, she was just a pair of luscious lips, a tight little white pussy, and a blank mind that existed solely to serve Markus's vision. And she adored it. Thinking was hard―worshiping Markus was not.

The bass line thumped through her body, setting her heart racing. The words were raw, aggressive―everything she'd been told not to be. And she was going to sing them like they were a declaration of love.

Her voice wrapped around the words, slithering through the beat like a snake around its prey. She was a siren, calling out to all the white sluts just like her to come and worship at the altar of

Black

supremacy. The words fell from her lips like a sweet confession―because they were. She was everything he'd said she was, and she was finally okay with it.

As they recorded, Markus's hand slid down her bare thigh, his thumb grazing her clit. Millie gasped, eyes rolling back as she sang about being nothing but a white bimbo, a cum receptacle for strong

Black

men. She felt herself getting wetter, her voice getting thicker with need. It was like every word she sang was a spell, weaving its way into her very core, reprogramming her thoughts until all she could think about was how badly she needed him to fill her up.

The music built up to a crescendo, and with it, so did her arousal. She could feel her pussy clench, begging for his

Black

cock and his potent cum. Markus's hand moved up, slipping the hoodie up to fondle her breasts. Her ass and cunt were fully visible, but that was okay, since it was just the two of them in the booth. At least, she was pretty sure it was just them. Her mind was too fuzzy to care either way.

Her nipples were rock-hard, aching to be pinched and pulled. She didn't even bother hiding the moan that slipped from her lips. It blended into the track, adding a layer of raw desire to the already steamy vibe.

Later that night, in the plush confines of Markus's limo, the tension between them was thick as the bass notes that had vibrated through the studio. He sat in the leather seats, watching her with a smug smile as she knelt before him, bobbing her head up and down, eager to please.

"Take your time, slut," Markus murmured, stroking her hair with a gentle yet firm hand. "It's all about technique. You want to make sure you don't miss a beat, just like you did in the booth today."

Millie nodded, her eyes never leaving his cock. She'd been practicing every day, but she still felt like she wasn't good enough. Her mouth was watering, but not just because of his delicious manhood. The power dynamics had shifted so much that she craved his approval like a starving animal. She didn't want to be just another pretty face; she wanted to be his

perfect

little white whore.

Her teeth scraped against his shaft, and she jerked back, her eyes wide with horror. Markus's grip tightened in her hair, pulling her face back up to his crotch. "Not like that, dumb cunt," he said, his voice a low growl. "You know better than that. Teeth are for biting, not for cock sucking. If you do that again, I'll have to teach you a lesson you won't forget."

The fear in her eyes was palpable, but it only made her more determined. She took a deep breath, trying to focus on his instructions, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing in her chest. She knew that every mistake she made only took her farther away from the ultimate prize she desired: feeling his thick, hot cum fill her mouth, a symbol of her complete and utter submission to him.

"Sorry, I'll do better, promise," Millie begged. For extra measure, she lovingly kissed his cock where she had scrapped her teeth against it.

"Good girl," Markus murmured, his hand moving from her hair to her cheek, giving it a gentle tap. "Now, let's try that again. And remember, don't just suck like a vacuum. Use your tongue, lick the shaft, show me what you can do with that mouth of yours."

Millie nodded, eager to prove herself. She leaned back in, her lips parting as she took his cock into her mouth again. This time, she was more careful, her tongue sliding along the velvety skin, her teeth safely behind her lips. She felt his cock twitch with approval and felt a thrill of pride. She was getting better.

"Mm, now you're really getting the hang of this, baby girl," he murmured, stroking her hair as she took his massive,

Black

cock in her mouth. Millie felt a thrill of pride at his words. She'd been practicing every day, eager to make him happy. The taste of his pre-cum was sweet and addictive, making her crave more. She worked him hard, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked and licked with fervor.

But it was a delicate dance she performed. She didn't want to make him cum too quickly―she lived for the moments when he'd grab her hair and force his cock down her throat, making her gag and squeal around him. Yet, she couldn't resist the siren call of his seed, the way it painted the back of her throat and coated her mouth.

Black

seed was like nothing she'd ever tasted before, and ever since her first taste at the rally, she'd grown to crave it like an addict, needing a regular supply from Markus after each of their recording sessions.

Her eyes watered as she took him in deeper, her throat muscles stretching around his girth. The smell of him filled the air, musky and intoxicating. She knew she was his, utterly devoted to his desires. And she liked it. The way he talked to her―like she was nothing but a piece of property to be used and discarded―turned her on like nothing else. It was a high she never wanted to come down from.

"Look at me, baby," he ordered, his deep, velvety voice cutting through the sound of her desperate slurps. She obeyed, her eyes meeting his through the tears. He watched her with a mix of amusement and satisfaction. "That's it. Now breathe through your nose. Yeah, just like that. Hold it, hold it, almost there..."

Millie's eyes went wide as she felt his cock hit the back of her throat again, pressing down hard. She tried to hold her breath, her cheeks bulging around him. She could feel her eyes watering more, and her nose was starting to run a little. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she pushed through the discomfort, eager to take all of him. Markus's hand tightened in her hair, and she knew she'd hit the spot. The thought of him being pleased was all she needed to keep going.

"Good girl," he crooned, his voice low and seductive. "So eager to please your

Black

master. Keep it up, baby. You're going to make me cum so hard down your throat, and then you're going to swallow every last drop like a good little slut. Do you want that?"

Her muffled moan was all the answer he needed. He chuckled darkly, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. "Yeah, I knew you did. You love the taste of your own submission, don't you?"

He pushed her head down again, holding her there as he began to fuck her face. She felt her gag reflex kick in, but she fought it, focusing on the sensation of his cock in her mouth, the way it felt to be under his control. He tapped her cheek lightly with his free hand, and she knew that was his signal to breathe. She took a deep breath through her nose and went back to work, her mouth a tight, wet ring of pleasure for him to use.

The sounds of their bodies colliding filled the space, the smack of her lips, the wet suck of her mouth, the gagging noises she couldn't hold back. It was messy, it was raw, and it was the hottest thing she'd ever done. Markus's hand was a gentle guide, pushing and pulling, pushing her limits further and further. And with every thrust, she felt her resolve to be the perfect

Black

cock slut grow stronger.

But she was still learning. And tonight, she messed up yet again.

Her eyes went wide as his cock hit the back of her throat too hard, too fast. She gagged, sputtering and choking, her throat tightening around him. Panic set in for a brief moment as she realized she couldn't breathe. But Markus was swift with his correction. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, his cock popping out of her mouth with a wet sound.

"Now, now, baby girl. We can't have you choking on me, can we?" His tone was stern, a firm daddy-like reprimand that sent a shiver down her spine. "Remember, this isn't about your needs, it's about making sure I'm satisfied. Your air isn't as important as my cock, is it?"

He tapped his cock against her forehead, a blunt statement of his dominance. She blushed, feeling small and silly for her failure.

"I'm sorry, Markus," she whispered, her voice hoarse from his abuse.

"Mm, good girl. You know what you have to do to make it up to me, don't you?"

He didn't wait for a response. He slammed her head back down, her nose pressing into the warm, musky space between his legs. She took him back into her mouth, eager to please, eager to show she'd learned her lesson.

This time, she focused solely on his pleasure. She didn't fight the urge to breathe, didn't fight the urge to pull away. Instead, she let his cock fill her throat, let him use her mouth as he saw fit. Her eyes watered, and she felt the salty precum leaking into her throat. She swallowed reflexively, and Markus chuckled above her.

"That's my girl," he said, his voice a mix of pride and ownership. "You're learning so fast. Just keep going, baby. Make sure every inch of me is wet with your spit."

Millie nodded, her eyes glazed over with a mix of fear and desire. She pushed herself further, willing herself to take more of his massive

Black

cock down her throat. The pressure built, and she felt her eyes bulge as she tried to keep up with his pace. Her lungs burned for oxygen, but she didn't dare pull away. This was for Markus. This was what he wanted. And if it meant choking on his cock to get it, she would do it.

Her mind grew fuzzier with every passing second, the lack of air sending a delicious buzz straight to her clit. The panic grew, but so did the thrill. The world outside of the limo, the music, the cameras, the critics, they all faded away until there was only her, Markus, and the thick, velvety length of his cock. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she could feel drool spilling down her chin, pooling onto her chest, soaking into her hoodie. She was nothing but a mindless white slut for his enjoyment.

"Deeper, baby, deeper," he urged, his voice thick with lust. "Take it all. Yes, just like that. You're doing so good, Millie."

Her eyes watered, her nose was running, and she was choking around his cock, but she didn't stop. She took a deep breath and forced herself to go further, her throat stretching around his girth. She could feel the head of his cock nudging against the back of her throat, and she knew she was close to making him cum. The idea thrilled her.

"Hold your breath, slut. Keep it in there," he ordered. She nodded, her eyes wide with the challenge. He grabbed her hair, holding her in place, as he pushed himself deep into her throat. She felt his cock hit the back of her throat and held her breath, her eyes watering even more. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she swallowed around him, her throat muscles working to take him deeper.

With a final, desperate effort, she took him all in. Her nose was buried in the coarse hairs at the base of his cock, her throat tight around his shaft. She could feel the veins pulsing in time with her racing heartbeat. The world was spinning around her, a symphony of darkness closing in from the edges of her vision. And then she felt it: the sweet release of his cock slipping out of her mouth, a spurt of hot precum hitting her tongue.

"That's my girl," he said, his voice strained with pleasure. "Now, suck it like you mean it. Show me what you've learned."

And she did. She sucked and licked, her tongue swirling around him, her teeth never touching. When she felt his cock start to pulse, she knew she'd done well. He was close. So close. And she was going to make sure she got every drop of his

Black

cum.

He held her head in place with both hands now, his hips thrusting up to meet her mouth. As she bobbed her head, trying to delay the inevitable, she could feel him getting closer. His breaths grew ragged, his thighs tensing. But she didn't stop. She needed this, needed to make him lose control. And when he finally did, the warm, salty rush of his cum washed over her tongue, down her throat, filling her up like nothing else could. Her eyes rolled back, eyelids fluttering from the mind-blowing pleasure as she savored her reward. She swallowed greedily, her glazed eyes staring into his as he watched her, his expression a mix of satisfaction and dominance.

And when it was over, when she sat back, wiping her mouth and smoothing her hair, she felt empty. The high had passed, but the craving remained. She wanted more of him, more of what he had to give. The taste of him lingered on her lips, a reminder of her submission, her purpose. And she liked that, too. But her bare pussy drooled and ached, slimeing the car floor beneath her. She needed a different hole filled by him.

Markus leaned back in his seat, zipping up his pants. "Good girl," he said, patting her head like she was a pet. And she beamed up at him, feeling like the most cherished pet in the world. She'd do anything for his praise, for his cum.

The city lights flashed by outside the tinted windows as she stayed on her knees between Markus' thighs, like she usually did after blowing him. Millie's hand slipped down to her needy cunt, her fingers idly circling her clit.

The taste of Markus's seed had filled her mind as well as her mouth, echoing through her thoughts. She couldn't get enough of it―the way the delicious cream lingered in her, inflaming her need for his cock. It was like a drug, and she was an eager addict. She craved the feel of his thick,

Black

cock stretching her, claiming her.

As the limo glided through the city, Millie's mind was lost in a haze of lust. She could still feel the sticky warmth of his cum in the corners of her mouth, and her pussy quivered at the memory of his taste. Her fingers played with the zipper of his pants, tracing the outline of his cock as it swelled beneath the fabric. She wanted it again. No, she needed it again.

Her thoughts grew more and more intense, her imagination running wild with fantasies of being taken by Markus's powerful cock. She'd watched so many videos, confirming the rumors about how superior

Black

men were in bed. The idea of her tight, white pussy being filled with his hot, potent seed was all she could think about.

Her hand glided over his pants, her small, soft fingers wrapping around his cock. He was already getting hard again. She stroked him gently, her eyes locked on his cock, her pupils wide with desire.

She didn't want the night to end. Not yet. Not like this.

"Markus," she said quietly.

He looked down, one brow slightly raised. "What's up?"

She hesitated, fingers knotting together in his lap. "Will you come in tonight?"

He blinked, almost surprised by the question. Then he leaned back against the seat, stretching one arm across the top of the leather upholstery.

"You mean your place?"

She nodded, her voice softer. "Yeah. Even if it's, like, just for a little while. We've been spending so much time in the studio, and I just, like... I wanna be around you more. Outside of all that."

He watched her in silence for a moment, his face unreadable.

Then, calmly, he said, "Not tonight."

Millie's chest tightened, a pout forming on her lips. "Why not?"

Markus shrugged, casual. "Because you haven't earned that yet."

The words landed with a quiet weight that made her stomach twist. She stared at him, trying to find a trace of teasing in his tone. There wasn't any.

"But―" she started, then stopped, unsure how to even finish the sentence.

They had spent hours together these past few weeks. Aside from being his resident cocksucker, Millie had thrown herself into their work, into his world. She had adapted, embraced, followed every twist and turn of this new identity of hers. She had stood by him through the increasingly scandalous headlines and commentary, through the heat of the spotlight and the shadows behind the scenes.

And yet... that wasn't enough?

Millie turned her face toward the window, quickly blinking away tears. She didn't want him to see how much that had stung. How badly she wanted more than just cockteasing him in the booth, more than passing moments on her knees and full of his cock in the back of a limo.

She didn't understand what she had to do. How much further she had to go to matter to him. It was as vexing as it was arousing. Even at the start of her career, Millie had never felt so desperate for approval than she did now.