Broen In

Broken In By Black Cock, Part 7

This continues the story of Maurice, Gina and Melanie, begun in Broken In By Black Cock parts 1-6.

Warning: This story contains Non-Consent, interracial sex, BDSM, coerced cheating/cuckolding, verbal and physical humiliation, as well as reluctant lesbian and anal sex.

As always, this is a fantasy, and is not meant to reflect or inspire any real-world attitudes or activities. If any of that isn't for you, please read no further.

***

"Hey Baby, how's it going?"

Melanie Clyde tucked a curl of blonde hair behind her ear to hear better. She was sitting on the bed on the phone with her fiancé, David. She had some bad news to share, and she wasn't quite sure how he was going to take it.

"David, I'm so sorry... I've been out with Gina all day and we've been waylaid. I'm going to stay over at Gina's place tonight."

Mel bit her lower lip and scrunched her eyes, waiting for David's response. Like most young lovers, Mel didn't tell her fiancé exactly everything. But right at this moment, she had a lot she was not sharing. Mel Clyde was being blackmailed.

Mel was 27 years old and had been with David, the love of her life, for 4 of those years. Mel was conventionally extremely attractive. She tried not to think of herself in those terms, but she wasn't stupid. She saw the effect her physical appearance had on other people; saw how their eyes widened when they met her for the first time, flicked up and down her body, or lingered as she departed.

It wasn't just men either, although women were usually a little bit more subtle about looking. And, on the rare occasion Mel had needed to lean upon her looks to get something she wanted, they had never failed her. She was tall for a woman, at 5'8", with a mane of golden curls, vivid green eyes, and full lips in a face that she would describe as 'oval' yet still maintained the soft visible bone structure at cheekbones and jaw. She had a curvaceous figure which she had to work hard to keep from turning to fat, but it gave her full breasts, a tear-drop ass and long, athletic, tanned legs which made eyes boggle when she wore skirts or dresses.

There was a hesitant pause on the other end of the line. Then, "That's okay baby. I've actually had to stay late at work myself. I'm going to be here all weekend I think."

Mel's mouth dropped. She had thought she was the one delivering bad news, but now David was one-upping her. He was leaving her again.

"What, all of tomorrow too? David, you've only just got back!"

David was a catch, everyone said so. Mel was so lucky to have him as her fiancé. Tall, slender, with floppy black hair, a great sense of humor and his own business. She would have agreed, until the last few days. Recently though, she'd been questioning their relationship; David had never made her feel the way her blackmailers had.

A dark shape moved in front of Mel, drawing her eyes upwards. Maurice. Maurice was her primary blackmailer, and her Master. For the next two days, at least. He had photographs and evidence that she had embezzled money from her company, that that money had been invested to fund federal crimes, and the profits from those investments had bankrolled David's company. Everything they owned was at risk. In exchange for the evidence in his possession, Mel had agreed to be Maurice's subservient, sexually and otherwise, for a whole week. They were coming to the end of Day 5.

"I know baby, I'm so sorry. We're just having a bit of a crisis here at work. Financial stuff, you know?" David's voice crackled down the line.

Maurice stopped down and cupped Mel's cheek with long, dark fingers. He was a tall, Haitian man who spoke with a deep, French accent. He was muscular but lean and lithe, with skin the colour of rosewood, high cheekbones and cold, piercing eyes. Predator's eyes. He turned her face up to meet those eyes now.

She bit her lip again, trying to concentrate on the conversation with David. "No baby, I don't know. You don't tell me what's going on. It's nothing too serious, I hope?"

Mel's eyes widened. Maurice was rummaging inside his shorts with his free hand. She tried to shake her head,

not now.

David sighed. "I mean, it's not great. But I've got it under control. Nothing to worry about. How was your day with Gina?"

Mel couldn't concentrate on the question. In front of her, Maurice had pulled his manhood out of his shorts. A week ago, she would have screamed. Dropped the phone, leapt away. Maybe tried to kick him in the crotch and run. But over the past 5 days this behaviour had become so normalised she didn't move or make a sound.

She knew better than to object. Disobeying Maurice came with consequences. Punishments.

So she did nothing except gulp inadvertently at the sight when he laid his semi-erect cock upon his free palm, the head just an inch from her nose. Even after all she had seen that week, it was still the largest penis she had ever laid eyes on. It was more than the length of her forearm and the circumference of a coke can, criss-crossed with bulging veins, and the skin held the eggshell sheen of old wooden furniture after it's been polished. It still amazed her that she had been able to get that... that

thing

inside her at all.

"Baby?"

"Oh, sorry David," Mel blinked, trying to remember his question. "My day was... yeah, it was good, we went to a pool party, and um..."

"A pool party? Who was there?"

The hand resting on her cheek slid down to cup underneath her chin, lifting it up. Maurice steered the head of his black member down from her nose towards her lips, a bead of precum leaving a snail's trail down the center of her face. He was going to feed her his black cock while she was on the phone to her fiancé! Mel wriggled uncomfortably but couldn't turn away from his hand.

Another, smaller, hand plucked the phone from her grasp.

Gina.

This was all Gina's fault.

Gina was a half-Asian girl with skin the colour of burned honey, a slim, gym-honed figure, willow-leaf eyes and a tiny button nose set into a heart-shaped face, and a malicious streak Mel was only starting to understand. Gina had been Mel's friend, close to a best friend. But Maurice had broken her first, and she had given him the information to blackmail Mel. In the process, Gina had admitted a long-lasting sexual infatuation with Mel that.drove her actions. She had been indulging that infatuation over the last five days.

Gina clicked the phone onto speaker, and held it close to Mel's head. The heavy tip of Maurice's cock was now resting on her bottom lip.

"Um, Gina was there, of course. And... and, um... Larissa from work."

"Larissa? I don't think I know her."

"Yeah, she's... she's... ummphffmMMmmmm..."

Maurice had pushed his cock between her lips, pushing her jaws as wide as they could go, wider, plunging it deeper into her mouth. Mel fought back a gag, desperate not to make any sound that might betray to David what was happening. She felt tears well at the corner of her eyes as his head ticked the back of her mouth.

"Mel? Baby? Are you still there?"

"MMMmmfphhhough--yes! Yes, I'm still here baby!"

Maurice had retracted his cock from her mouth in the nick of time, with a sound like a

smooch

. A thin rope of spittle followed it, attaching her lower lip to his cock like a chain.

"What's going on? What was that noise?"

"Oh, we're just eating," Mel was panicking, talking on the fly, trying to think her way out of David discovering her secret. "Gina's feeding me, um... Haitian food. It's delicioougggggghhh..."

Maurice thrust forward into her mouth again, this time with Gina's hand at the back of her head pushing her forwards. His cock hit her throat and she gagged silently, saliva streaming down from either side of her mouth as Maurice began to rock his hips slowly backwards and forwards, fucking her face.

"Haitian food? I don't think I've had that. What is it?"

"MMfffckkkokkk... like a....

ahh

... kind of sausage, I guess." Mel gasped for air as Maurice pulled free again. Tears were flooding down her cheeks now. She needed to find a way of ending this conversation without making David suspicious.

"Haitian sausage? That does sound tasty."

Gina sniggered with cruel laughter.

Fortunately, David was ready to finish too. "Look baby, I can tell you'd rather be eating and I need to get back to work. Have fun and I'll see you late tomorrow night, okay? I love you."

"Ach lubb OOO ouuo."

I love you too.

With another man's cock in her mouth.

Gina hung up Mel's phone with a laugh and pushed her back down onto Maurice's cock. Mel, trying to contain herself, set about making a proper airtight seal with her mouth to suck. She pulled Maurice's shorts further down and cupped his balls with one hand.

While she didn't want David to know, she did

want

to pleasure Maurice. The truth was, what had started out as blackmail had become something far more complicated. He was her Master, not just out of force, but now ensnaring her in an intricate web of desire, shame, satisfaction and self-loathing.

This week, he had given her experiences and pleasures she hadn't known could exist. And in return, her body and mind had responded to him like nobody else she had ever met. Although part of her still felt disgusted at the idea, she wanted,

needed,

him to be her Master, to please him - in the same way as she felt hunger or thirst, happiness or sadness. It wasn't a choice any more, or even a desire. It felt like a basic human function. She didn't know what she would do if that were taken away.

Mel sat on the edge of Gina's bed on the evening of the fifth day, as her Master thrust gently in and out of her mouth with a wet

schlock, schlock

sound. She pushed her tongue out over her bottom teeth, trying to take more of him in, trying to reach his balls. She sucked him until he came in her throat with a bestial groan, thrusting his hips forward, and she swallowed down every drop.

Day 6

She sucked him again the next morning in bed, with Gina's help this time. It had become a kind of custom to start the day. She had hoped he would fuck her too that morning, but she was disappointed.

"I have to go to Church," he announced, as his seed began to dry on her lips and he pulled up some grey slacks.

Church? Maurice?

The idea seemed ridiculous. Mel wondered where he might really be going.

"Melanie, you did very well yesterday. I'm pleased."

Her heart leapt at his praise. Her cheeks glowed like little coals. Maurice was a man of few words and fewer compliments, and she craved his approval.

"For the most part. We shall speak about your behaviour towards Mr Gregory when I am back this afternoon." He buttoned a white shirt and pulled a grey jacket over his shoulders.

As quickly as her heart had risen, it fell, leaving a cold, empty, twisting feeling inside of her belly. Mr Gregory was her oldest client at work, a friend of her father's, and yesterday at the pool party, under Maurice's countenance, he had done something she had never allowed anyone to do. He had taken her anal virginity. He had fucked and cum inside her pink asshole, into her very bowels. Her skin crawled at the thought of him. Mr Gregory had treated her as though she were less than a person, just a meat-bag for his gratification. And Maurice wanted to talk about

her

behaviour

to him

?

"For now, my pet, go home. Take a shower. Gina will be in touch later this morning to lead your day."

Gina winked at her from her side of the bed, making a show of licking Maurice's seed from her own lips.

"Oh and Mel," Maurice's eyes scanned over her nude body upon the bed - she always had to sleep naked with him, "it's time to remove the hair on your pussy. I've tolerated your personal preference until now, but if you truly want to be my whore, you must be shaven smooth."

***

Mel let the scalding water pour over her, melting away the previous day's grime and baggage, leaving her renewed, refreshed. She shaved as she had been bid, her legs and armpits as always, but then she rubbed shaving foam through the trimmed-short blonde hair that had always covered her pubic mound. She kept well-groomed but she had never gone fully bald down there before, and as the plastic razor cut a path through the thatch leaving behind only soft, velvety skin, it felt somehow naughty to her.

Slutty.

She wasn't sure what David would think, but she didn't really have a choice. Maurice had said

"if you want to be my whore, you must",

and so she must.

She stepped out of the shower new and pink, smooth and glistening, and began to rub a towel over her skin. Her whole body ached. Her muscles were sore from being forced into a myriad of positions over the past five days. She slid a hand over her newly-smooth mound, admiring the feeling, but gasped as her finger brushed against her vulva. It felt painfully swollen and sensitive.

Curiosity got the better of her and she grabbed a make-up compact from her cabinet, aiming the circular mirror up between her thighs. She didn't often look at herself like this, only a few times on her life, but what she saw this morning made her squeal in shock. She nearly dropped the compact.

Her labia were indeed swollen, thicker and parted much further than usual, and darker in colour; a deep, almost angry pink. Her clit was engorged, standing to attention beneath its hood. She used two fingers to spread her outer lips for a better look, grimacing at the discomfort. It was as if someone had pumped her entire pelvic region full of blood. Was it bruising, or arousal, she wondered? She'd heard of priapism in men - a painful, sustained erection caused by blood flow that would not abate. Was there an equivalent in women?

She supposed she shouldn't be surprised. She'd had sex more times, with more men, over the past few days than in her entire life beforehand. And the

size

of those men - of course she would be swollen. But seeing it like this, putting a visual to the sensation, was shocking. It was both mortifying and erotic. Even as she held it open to look, her pussy had begun to lubricate at the cocktail of shame and arousal the sight of herself evoked. She traced a circle with her thumb over her engorged clit as a test. Her knees almost buckled from the sensation.

She looked closer at the base of her vulva, at the opening to her vagina. Was it...

wider?

Or was she imagining things, projecting her own fears after having been fucked by Maurice and his campanions, split open again and again by a girth she had never experienced before? She couldn't tell. She felt tears prickle at the corner of her eyes.

By accident, she spotted something else. She gasped, and tilted the compact back further. Her asshole was swollen too, an angry red, and that

was

unmistakably wider, a visible centimetre-wide gape where she was used to a tiny pink rosebud.

All of a sudden, she was crying. She dropped the compact with a clatter and slid down with her back against the bathroom wall. Tears streamed down her cheeks and sobs wracked her body. They had

changed

her. Physically changed her young body to meet their filthy, disgusting desires. Nothing huge, nothing dramatic, but she could

see

a difference. It was as if Maurice was transforming her to be the whore he said she would be.

And not just her body. Her

mind

too. How many times now, in the heat of the moment, had she asked him, begged him, to fuck her? Not because she was being blackmailed. Not even because of the threat of punishment. But because she

wanted

it, felt like she

needed

it. What was it Maurice's associate Igo had said?

"It's like he has his fingers in your brain."

He was like an addiction. Something she couldn't quit, no matter how it was damaging her, something she didn't even

want

to quit.

Did she? Sat there, naked, in her own bathroom, she tried to imagine quitting Maurice. Going back to her old life, with David, as if none of this had ever happened. She screwed up her eyes, trying to visualise it. What if she got back those photos, those documents, that proved her guilt? What if she were no longer tied to him through blackmail, as he promised she would be less than two days from now?

She imagined him standing in this very room. Looming over her, dark and masculine. She imagined telling him to leave, to get out of her life. Pointing at the door, shouting. She could do that. She could. It would take all of her willpower, but she could.

But what if he didn't leave?

You don't want that, Melanie

, he purred in a voice deeper even than in real life, bending down to look her in the eyes, his hand at the side of her neck.

You want me. You want to be mine.

He kissed her. His lips pressed and slid over hers and her pussy pulsed in response. No matter how much she wanted to break away from the kiss, to shout again to leave, she could not force herself to do so. She kissed him back. He ran a hand over her chest, cupping the soft flesh of her breast, down her belly, down between her legs.

You'll always be mine.

He touched her there and she gasped, her legs opening wider for him. He stepped back, unbuckling his belt.

In the real bathroom, Melanie sat with her eyes closed, her own hand slipping down between her thighs, over her smooth mound once more, to find her clit.

***

Gina pouted her lips at her reflection in the mirror. She pressed her palms against the outsides of her breasts, pushing them inwards and upwards, giving herself a little more cleavage within her blouse. She blew a kiss.

She looked good, she knew she did. Damn good. But there was something about hanging around with Mel Clyde for a week that just made you a tad insecure. She was taller, had bigger boobs, wider hips, longer legs. Those wide green eyes with the long lashes, the upturned nose, full pink lips, perfect teeth. The white skin, the blonde curls. She was such a hot little bitch. Half the time they were together, it was all Gina could do to prevent herself from drooling over Mel. But no matter how ravenously, achingly she desired her, there was always a pang of jealousy with it.

And they

had

her. Gina could still hardly believe how easy it had been to get Mel to submit. They had her, she and Maurice, any way they wanted her.

Her Master was gone for the day, he didn't say where, just that it was

time for his sluts to have fun together.

And boy, were they going to have fun; Gina had it all planned out.

Gina gave a three-quarter turn in the mirror and popped her hip, giving herself a flash of round asscheek just visible beneath her pleated miniskirt.

I'm a hot bitch too, Mel.

And now, for once, I have something you don't.

She picked up the thin silver chain and fastened it behind her neck. It glinted above her cleavage.

Not any more.

***

"Okay, come up." Mel sounded breathless on the intercom, and when she opened her apartment door onto the hallway, Gina saw why.

Her hair was wet and she was wearing a silk robe; she'd obviously taken a shower. But it was more than that. She was flushed, spots of pink at the points of her cheeks, her eyes were wide and dilated, and her lips were parted as though she were just catching her breath.

"Bitch, were you

masturbating?!"

Gina exclaimed with a laugh, loud enough for any inquisitive neighbours to hear.

This was going to be easier than she thought.

"No!

Shut up

, get in here," Mel grabbed her and pulled her inside, her whole face flushing red with embarrassment.

Gina was still giggling. She was enjoying herself. "Don't lie to me, girl. You really are insatiable aren't you? Who were you flicking off to? Tell me. I know it wasn't that dickless fiancé of yours."