Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
Rama - Blackshaft 1-05 - Lines p2
(Adults Only. Copyright@Rama. 2013)
St Ignatious. Back of the Playing Fields. Day.
She wrapped her legs around him as he began thrusting into her. Isabella quickly kissed her Italian stallion’s shoulder and slid her hands down his back to squeeze his thrusting buttocks. He plunged into her and looked her in the eye. Isabella smiled up at Carlo Bructanni as he fucked her. She could hear the grunts and the whimpers from the nearby hut. The thought of what was happening in there got her so horny. “Harder, Carlo. Give it to me harder.” she told him.
Carlo grinned and started slamming into her. He closed his eyes. “AAAHHHH...” he gasped and she felt him cum inside her. Carlo sank down, pulling out of Isabella who simply lay on the rug on the ground among the trees. He rolled off of her and she looked at him and sighed as she rubbed her sensitive pussy lips. He pulled the condom from his softening cock and tossed it away. A slap came from the hut and they lay there listening to the sounds coming from the hut for another five minutes before Carlo got up and started pulling his clothes back together. Isabella picked up her small, white panties and knelt in front of him. She pushed them down the front of his jeans with a smile. Then stood up and straightened the school’s uniform up.
The hut’s door slammed open and the three Italian boys wandered out, laughing. “Next time,” one said as another stretched the panties between his hands. They were ripped. Useless now. They stopped on seeing Carlo and Isabella. An air or respect came over them as they waited for Carlo. “Later,” he said and looked into the hut. Isabella smiled as he blew a kiss inside then led them away through the bushes towards where they had climbed over a wall to get in. Isabella sighed, getting to her feet. There was nothing like a good fuck. She walked to the hut and peered it. Then smiled. The figure was curled into a ball on the rough wooden floor. The little bitch’s blouse and skirt was torn open. Isabella saw the cum stains on the rug and the condoms that had been thrown aside. “NO!” the small figure of Paula Guerina begged. “STOP! No more!” Paula blinked as she saw it was Isabella. “You--”
“What!” Isabella said. She stepped into the hut and pushed the scared blonde onto her back, pinching her tear-stained face hard. “I what? You about to call me something, you dumb cunt! I tell you to do something, you fucking WILL do it. Or next time they’ll do you up your fucking ASS! And they might not bother with rubbers either.”
“No... Y-Y-Y-Yes... I mean yes!.”
“Good,” Isabella smiled, standing up. She looked at the used condoms again. A couple of them were stained red. “Congratulations, bitch. First time too, huh?” She stopped at the door, looking out at the trees and bushes. “Oh, and you tell anyone about this. Your sister is what now, 16-17? A year under you? Maybe she’ll get a little party. Just her and some of Carlo’s crew.”
“NO!” Paula yelled. “I won’t tell anyone! I’ll do what you want!”
Isabella nodded her head. “Was that so difficult?” she said. “Now if you’d said that when I asked you to that essay for me, you might still be...” She thought about it. “Pure. And not just another little fucking whore.” She said and saw the condom Carlo had thrown away and picked it up. “Now, I want you clean this mess up. You can start with drinking down all the cum that’s in every rubber that’s in this hut.” Isabella threw Carlo’s used, full condom onto Paula. “Starting with that one.” she smiled and laughed, crossing her arms as she looked down at the terrified girl....
Lilgrove. The Old Brewster Place. Day.
Callam stopped the jeep at the front door of the old farmhouse. From the overgrowth, it fitted with what the old man he’d found had told him, that it hadn’t been used as a farm in over 30, maybe 40 years. At least. He switched the engine off and stepped out. Callam had never considered himself to be merciful or even feeling but the old white man had struck something in him. He’d found him living here when he had checked the town. A couple of bums were ‘dealt’ with then he’d come out here. The farmhouse was a speck in the distance but it had to be checked anyhow. That’s when he found the old man, in what had been the kitchen, busy cooking something nasty on a wood fire. A bullet would have been a mercy for the man. This wasn’t any existence. But there was something in the old voice that made him just stop and listen. A politeness the old man had called it. He sat and listened to the old man’s story about the farm, the old Brewster place. Callam listened and then left.
He pushed open the door and saw the dusty hallway. “Hey, man!” he called out, then waited a moment. “You in?”
Only the wind replied to him as he heard something, maybe a window, close.
He looked at the stairway up to the bedrooms. “Weird things happened here, them women were wild bitches.” the old man had told him. Callam walked in and headed for the rear of the house, towards the kitchen. “Yo, got some real food for you man!” he said, walking into the ruined kitchen. The old man was lying on the cot in the corner. “Yo, dude.” Callam said, approaching him slowly. He stopped as he saw the look on the old man’s face. He knelt down and held his hand in front of the old man’s mouth. “Shit.” he muttered. The old man was dead.
A quick check told Callam it seemed to be natural. At least there was no sign of violence. And from the peaceful look on the man’s face it must have happened in his sleep. Callam stood up and nodded his respect to the old man. He looked about him and wondered why he would have stayed here. The kitchen was a mess. In the front room he found some old pictures. Two fine white bitches, mother and daughter by the look. They looked decent enough. The house didn’t look like it would need much to fix up, if they needed it. He would check the upstairs when someone was with him in case they were weak. Callam looked in some of the cupboards and stopped as he found himself looking at the door the old man had told him never to go through. Callam opened the door and looked down some stone steps into darkness.
He got a flashlight from the jeep and slowly made his way down into the dark space under the farmhouse. He stopped at the foot of the stairs as the small details stared back at him. The old rotting mattresses on the floor, the chains that hung from the walls, and two wooden beds. In one corner an animal cage was on it’s side. He noticed an old book and opened it with a foot. It was a photo album. He saw the faces in the pictures. Two of them were those decent looking women from the photo upstairs, only here they weren’t so decent. The older one was watching the younger one, watching what she was doing with a look of lust in each picture.
“Jesus,” Callum muttered feeling sick at the pictures and kicked the album away. He walked back up, picked up the old man’s body and carried him outside. He had seen somewhere nice and peaceful he could bury him. Then he’d come back and burn this fucking place down.
St Ignatious. English Class. Day.
Another crappy so-called lesson, Isabella thought as the class began to file out. Mr Jameson was the talk of the school. A very filthy talk at that. Forget that he couldn’t teach worth a damn, they wanted to fuck him sideways! Well, that was how you got the likes of him. Tease the fuck until he couldn’t help himself and then yell rape before watching him squirm. Just like that time with one of Papa’s bodyguards, when she drove that one to blowing his brains out. That was the reason she was here. A girl’s finishing school would be best for her, her slut of a mother had decided. That bitch had just wanted the competition out of the way. And Isabella knew she was becoming some serious fuck-hot competition.
She watched him before finally standing up. She had left the nigger ‘teacher’ a little message in the report on Othello she’d handed in. And that fucking nigger hadn’t looked once at her. Didn’t seem slightly pissed off or turned on even. What the fuck was wrong with him? She was putting herself out on a plate and he wasn’t batting an eye-lid! Maybe she was missing some things, like a cock a balls! Isabella sniffed. Nah, that wasn’t it. She could tell a straight one right off and Jameson was one hundred percent hetro! He’d fall, like every man eventually did. And when he did she would watch him beg and plead as she destroyed his life. The thought of another male begging for his life made her so horny. Isabella would call Carlo. That boy would be over at the first hint of pussy on offer.
She got her stuff together and walked past him giving her best wiggle as she headed for the door. Glancing back she saw him... do nothing! Fucking nigger was still ignoring her. Feeling the anger rise she marched through the door and right into someone. “You fu--” Isabella stopped herself as she it was the principle, Miss Wyatt.
“Just the person I’m after.” Caroline Wyatt smiled.
“You found me.” Isabella shrugged.
Caroline took the report from behind her back and held it up to the student. “Your report?” she asked. Isabella gave it a glance and nodded. “Mr Jameson passed it to me. With note of this.” Caroline opened it up at the message written on the last page. ‘Your BIG BLACK COCK in my TIGHT WHITE PUSSY?’ She saw the flash of anger on the girl’s face. “You recognise it then?”
“Teachers lose jobs over things like this, even go to prison.” the principle told her. “So stop the stupid stunts, Miss Brunelli. Meanwhile, your privileges are suspended. Now get out of my sight.”
Isabella looked up at the principle. She wanted to slap this silly bitch here and now but realised what would happen. “Yes, Miss Wyatt,” she muttered and stormed off. She never saw the principle look at the last page again before walking into the classroom and locking the door. That was why Jameson had never looked at her. He knew that was coming. The black fuck had set her up. Two can play that, she thought. Fucking nigger.
Corrine Allen’s apartment. Guest Room. Day.
Kacey opened her eyes and for surprised for a second before she remembered where she was. Corrine had gave her a bed. She’d said it was for as long as she wanted. At least until she could get things figured out. She was now the owner of Beach Industries. Her. She couldn’t even buy a drink yet and she now owned a whole industry. What the fuck was Alison thinking....?
She up and put on her clothes. The same as yesterday, Kacey realised. She’d need to get some from the mansion. Her mansion. Kacey shook her head, still not able to get around it. She owned it. All of it.A quick trip to the bathroom and Kacey was standing in the middle of the apartment. It was bright and sparse but stylish. The windows were large, giving a view of the park below. Pictures and prints on the walls. A large TV was fixed to the wall with some DVDs in the bookshelf next to it. A note was on the table in front of it. ‘Just let you sleep. What’s mine is yours. Relax. You got a lot to deal with right now. Later. C.’
Kacey sat down and looked around her. It felt lived in. It felt alien.
An hour later the phone rang. Kacey picked it up. “Hello.” she said.
“Afternoon,” Corrine replied. “How you doing?”
Kacey looked around her. “Fine.”
“Finding your way around the place?”
“I’m going to be late back. We’ll sit. Talk. About all this shit.”
“Okay.” Kacey sighed.
“Okay.” corrine said.. “Boss.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Wait till the other shareholders find out.” Corrine laughed. “Now just relax today. See you later, Kacey.”
Lilgrove. Dig Site. Day.
Callam could see the fading columns of smoke from the old farmhouse. He’d taken some men and torched all of it. The mainhouse and out buildings. He had personally made sure the cellar and everything in it had burned, starting with that damned photo album. Just the thought chilled him.
He turned his attention and watched the conveyor belt pulling up the red clay and the glowing red rock. Everything, they had said. The rock and the soil around it. So he was going to deliver everything. Looking down into the deeping pit he was digging machines and sweaty black men working hard. There was a constant supply of water going down as the temperatures were getting higher, even under the huge tent that had been erected over the hole. The hole had grown in width and depth. A ramp and the sides had been dug out to get the machinery down and make sure it didn’t cave in. Whatever the hell had landed there was massive. It added to the puzzle for Callam. Why didn’t the town hear it come down? The place wasn’t that far from the site. The noise of this landing would have woken up the dead.
He looked at a chunk of of rock at is travelled alone the belt. It was literally glowing a red colour that shifted in the light. That sure a shit was NOT from this planet....
St Ignatious. Front Entrance. Day.
Emma Agnews had an old name. But there was nothing old about her body. IronRod had found that out the previous night when he’d acted as her saviour and gave her a lift hom after her car had stopped working. Emma Agnews was 32, a brunette and recently divorced and happily invited the new hunky black teacher in for a drink to thank him for the lift. A couple of drinks later and he made his excuses and headed for the door. “Are you sure, Taylor?” she had said....
She had wanted him to wear a condom. IronRod would have refused, but right then he was Taylor Jameson, mister nice guy. He agreed. She clung to him as he fucked her. He heard the surprise in her when his cock pushed inside her deep. Her legs and arms were tight around him, pulling him in as deep as he could go. He listened to her gasps as she came. Emma had them confessed that that was the first time in years she’d come without doing anything herself. Her husband had been useless. A white man, he thought. Once you go black, he had told her, smiling.
He hadn’t time to change his clothes and so had breakfast at her place then showered and drove her back to the school. IronRod saw the lust in her eyes as she looked at him before sliding out of the car. Another bitch blacked, he thought, watching her walk in. There seemed to be a change in her. Her hips seemed to swing a bit more. “This place is gonna kill me,” he muttered to that ass as it went in the door.
Emma waited until she was sure he couldn’t see her and let herself slump down slightly. She’d done it. It felt strange to have a cock inside her after so long, the reason she had done it made her feel sick. She heard the faint ring of her phone and got it out of her bag. “Yes?” she said.
“Miss Agnews and the nig-ger, sitting in the tree, K_I_S_S_I_N-G!” the voice sang. “Or should that be fucking that big nigger cock like the pervert whore she is!”
“I--” Emma realised there were students around her, and pressed the phone closer to her. “I’ve done as you wanted.”she whispered.
“You call the cops?” the voice said. “No, course not otherwise his black ass would be getting a beating in a jail cell right now. You know what you’re to do. You have until the end of the week or that video arrives in the Principle’s mailbox. Or maybe even some of those nice video porn sites.”
The call ended and Emma pulled the phone away from her ear.
Isabella Brunelli smiled as she switched the phone off, tossing the old hankerchief away. An old trick but it could still work. Maybe she’d send the video anyway, or post it on line. But only after the trial. She had to make sure she kept her story straight. Serve the slutty old whore right. The young woman picked up her bag and found her ‘girls’. She’d keep this quiet for now, she thought as she led them into the building. Miss Agnews was standing there as she walked in. The cunt was shaking.
“Miss? Everything alright?” Isabella said, smiling even wider as the teacher brushed past her and walked away.
St Ignatious. Store Cupboard. Day.
The first class of the day went well. He guessed. He was stealing everything he could from the internet and so far had seemed to be getting away with it. Caroline Wyatt, the principle, was on her way to the dark side. Now Emma Agnews was heading there. His mind checked them off the mental list but he would need some back-up. He wasn’t fucking Superman. There was already a plan for getting another black man on site. Something else they could thank the mob’s money for. IronRod quickly checked his phone. There was nothing needing his immediate attention, so went back to looking at the piles of books.
“Mr Jameson?” he heard. Then felt the body press against him, a hand slid down and cupped his crotch.
“Miss Agnews?” he smiled as she squeezed him. Suddenly the hand froze.
“I can’t.” Emma Agnews said quietly, lifting her hand off.
“Scared of being caught?” he smiled, turning and saw the tears in her eyes. “What’s up, Emma?”
“I can’t!” she said again and ran out the storeroom.
IronRod blinked. He was confused. What the hell just happened, he thought and looked out. Emma Agnews was gone. It was just that stuck-up secretary walking past.
Susan Corralli had seen Miss Agnews come running out, the tears obvious. She watched the teacher run down the corridor. The saw the bald black head of Mr Jameson stick out from the cupboard. She kept her eyes down and walked past quickly. What had he been doing in there, she wondered. And Miss Agnews? She had to go to the principle with this.
A smile crept across her face.
St Ignatious. Principle’s Office. Day.
“What do you mean ‘quit’?” Caroline Wyatt demanded, staring at the tearful Emma Agnews who was sitting across from her.
“I can’t,” Emma started. “I can’t go into it. But I can’t stay here anymore.”
“Emma, why?” Caroline pleaded. Just then a knock on the door was followed by a concerned looking Susan Corralli coming in. “Out!” Caroline said. Susan looked at the situation and it took her all to stop the smile from coming back. “OUT!” Caroline yelled and saw the secretary duck out quickly. “Is this the divorce?” she continued. “Is this because of Jack?”
“No.” Emma started crying. She stood up. “Just tell... Tell Tay-Mr Jameson to be careful.” she said and rushed out the office, leaving Caroline more confused than at the start.
Then it hit her...
Susan looked up from her desk as she saw Miss Agnews run past her and out the door. A moment passed and the smile almost came out before Miss Wyat appeared at her door. “Get me Ta - Mr Jameson! Now!” she ordered and went back in her office, slamming the door closed. It opned just as quickly again. “And see about getting someone to cover that - Miss Agnews’ class!” Miss Wyatt yelled before slamming it closed again.
Susan let the grin spread across her face. “Yessss!” she hissed triumphantly.
St Ignatious. English Class. Day.
IronRod looked at his desk; books, pens, papers, all the bullshit of education. He looked up at his class; brunette, blonde, redhead, all the young, tight and white pussy he could dream off. He looked at them and saw the same thing in their eyes. Lust. A couple of the girls in the front had ‘let’ their legs part slightly. He glanced between those open thighs and saw one of them, a cute brunette, had seemed to forget her underwear. There were flashes of secret openings. The look in her eyes said she knew the message she was sending out. “Now,” he smiled, looking straight at her. “Where were we?” The young wannabe slut licked her lips and smiled back.
“Mr Jameson, please report to the principle’s office immediately.” the tannoy called out.
“Just, eh, keep yourselves busy till I get back.” ‘Mr Jameson’ told them and walked out the class. He heard the chatter as soon as the door was closed. He put his hands in his pockets and whistled quietly as he made his way along the varnished wooden corridors, then finally arrived at the outer door to the Principle’s Office. He opened it and stepped in, smiling at the straight-laced young woman who called herself a secretary. “You called, Miss Corralli?” he smiled.
“You’re to go right in.” she said and IronRod thought he could see her suppressing the smile. Maybe that was all she needed, a simple fucking. That would loosen her up. He walked up the office door and stepped in. “Miss Wyatt?” he said.
Caroline Wyatt slammed the door shut behind him. “WHAT THE F--” she started at the surprised black man before lowering her voice. “What the fuck happened between you and Emma Agnews?” she demanded.
“What?” IronRod/Mr Jameson asked, confused. “What the hell--”
“You’re fucking her, aren’t you?” Caroline proded a finger into his large, hard chest. “Aren’t you?
IronRod pulled her hand away from him, keeping a hold of her wrist. What the hell, he thought. “She made the first move.” he told the angry woman. “She needed a lift and invited me in. She made all the moves. In the cupboard she grabbed me.”
“The cupboard?” Caroline spat. “You two were in the cupboard? You fucking bastard!” She jerked her wrist away from his grip.
“She made all the moves, I said! And I wasn’t aware that WE were an item.” he added and grabbed her wrist as she went to slap him.
Susan crept nearer the door and listened, the grin on her face getting wider. She turned away, shaking her head. That was how he got in so easily. Sex. Caroline Wyatt had had sex with him. So obvious, she thought. That explained the way she hadn’t done the proper paperwork. She had wanted her pet nigger on tap. Not only would Mr Jameson be gone, so would Wyatt. And them maybe someone would finally come in who understood what the place needed.
Caroline Wyatt looked into his eyes and saw the power in them. His hand gripped her wrist and refused to budge. She seen enough liars to know he was telling the truth. The anger was draining away from her. His grip was powerful. She remembered that strong, black body on top of her, that thick hard cock inside her. Besides, that final thing Emma Agnews had said. Tell him to be careful. Something else was going on. There was a look in Emma’s eyes when she mentioned him. A look that wasn’t hate. Something else had caused Emma to act that way. Caroline looked up into the black man’s eyes. She lunged at him and kissed him hard.
Fuck Emma Agnews. Fuck the rules. Right now she needed something else. Something hard. Something... black. Caroline broke off the kiss. “On the desk!” she hissed to him. “Now!”
Taylor Jameson, the man otherwise called IronRod, looked into the brunette’s eyes and saw the hunger in them
“I said, on the fucking desk!” Caroline told him.
IronRod smiled. “No.” he said. and backed her into the centre of the office. Then grabbed her around the waist and pressed his crotch against her. He saw her moan. “You feel me getting hard?” he asked.
“Yes...” she gasped.
IronRod thought of that young brunette in his class, her legs parting to reveal the trimmed pussy lips lips between them. He smiled as Caroline moaned again. “You. Get on the desk.” he ordered. “Now.”
Caroline Wyatt, the principle of one one of the most exclusive girls’ schools in the state, heard the authority in the voice. It made her tremble, all the way down to between her legs. She turned and pushed the blotter and papers from the desk onto the floor then felt herself being pushed face down onto it. Her skirt was raised up around her waist and she groaned as she felt his hand rub her ass then his fingers slide down her throbbing mound. “Uuh, God...” she gasped as he knickers were teasingly peeled down her thighs. She heard the long, slow sound of trousers being unzipped.
“No.” she said.
“What d’you say?” he asked.
Caroline looked over her shoulder at the black man. He already had his huge black cock out. Long and thick and... Caroline smiled. “Spank me.” she muttered.
IronRod smiled as he heard the words from her. “You giving me orders?” he grinned.
“I am your boss!” Caroline said. “You do as you’re told.”
IronRod leaned on top of her, putting his mouth to her ear. “You are what?” he whispered, tracing a finger up and down her pussy lips.
Caroline nearly came right then. She gripped the edge of the desk.
Susan put her ear right up to th edge of the door. It had gone silent in the office. Where was the argument? Where was the row? Susan looked at the door. Was that a moan...?
“What are you?” the black man whispered in her ear as his fingers teased her pussy and edged around her clit. Caroline gasped and let her legs go limp. She was lying on the desk now. The powerful black man on top of her. His other hand was busy running fingers through her hair. “Say it!” he ordered her, his voice seeming to going through her body. She mouthed. The fingers caught her hair and tightened their grip on her head. “Louder...” he hissed.
“Bitch...” she gasped. Caroline Wyatt had given herself to him. “Your... Bitch...”
“And you been a bad bitch, haven’t you?” he teased, dipping finger inside her then pulling it out again.
“Yes...” she panted.
What! Susan looked at the door as she heard the sharp sound. “What the hell was happening in there?
“HHHhhhhhhaaaaa.....” Caroline groaned as she felt the climax rip through her. One hard smack was all it took. The pleasure was exploding through her body causing her to shake. “Hhhhhh, Ghhhod!”
“Now, I will fuck who I want. When I want!” the black man told her.
“I will fuck every bitch in this school if I want!” he said.
Caroline’s body was still quivering. “Yes...!” the prnciple gasped.
“Now, before I put this BIG, BLACK DICK inside you again, you’ll tell me what the fuck is going on. We clear...” He bend over her, putting his lips to her ear. “We clear, bitch?”
Caroline almost came again
Susan sat back on the floor, staring at the door in shock. She peered through the keyhole and saw.... The biggest penis she’d ever seen. And the biggest slut she’d seen too. Miss Wyatt... No, a slut wasn’t called ‘Miss’. Anyone in her position should NEVER act that way! It was just... He was fucking NIGGER! Didn’t that slut have any respect, Susan wondered. A fucking nigger....!
Caroline told him about exchange in the office. He listened as she told him quickly. The bitch wanted it bad. IronRod eased his finger inside her damp pussy and heard her moan. The thing with Agnews sounded... off. Especially the bit about telling him to be careful. The moan brought him back.
“Pleeeese,” Caroline groaned. “Please it it inside me....”
IronRod grinned. She was begging him like a whore now, rubbing back against him.. Slut, he thought and pressed is cock against her wet pussy lips. He listened to her moan as he pushed her down and eased his thick cock into her pussy. A couple of weeks ago he’d used condoms for this one. But now, there was no way he needed to now. Caroline Wyatt understood. She knew this was the only way. IronRod slid his hands up her back and gripped her shoulders. All natural, he thought and thrust...
Susan Coralli sat on a chair that was kept for visitors and stared at the door. She knew what that was. She knew what that slut was doing. The voices went down and the groans were more muffled. That big nigger was... The thought of it sickened her. Everything she’d been brought up with was being literally screwed over beyond that door. Susan thought she should do something. Maybe walk in? And then what? Make an excuse and leave. That nigger was bigger than her. Stronger. He’d probably...
The slut again. A woman in a position of authority. A supposed example! Susan had seen what he had been doing. She couldn’t go anywhere in the school without hearing about him, and what they’d heard. He was contaminating this place. Now he’d even contaminated the one person in command. Susan blinked. There was one way left for her to save this place. One hope left. The trustees. Miss-whore-Wyatt might be in charge but even she had to answer to th trustees. And when they found out what was happening....
“Whore...” Susan hissed at the door....
IronRod gasped, feeling his muscles tense up as he delivered his load deep into the principle’s cunt. He’d managed to push in all the way. His cock so near her womb. The bitch was panting in short breaths as he bucked and emptied his balls into her. He pulled back and sat back, his legs apart and cock still twitching. It was shiny with a cocktail of cunt juices and potent black cum. His bitch was still getting her breath, the juices were running down her thighs.
“Now,” he said finally. “We gonna pay Miss Agnews a visit and find out what the fuck is going on with her.”
“Yes...” Caroline simply said.
“But first,” IronRod continued. “You’re going to get down on you knees and clean my cock...”
He watched her glance back then slowly slide off the esk onto all fours. The obedient bitch crawled between his legs and started licking his shaft. IronRod grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, smiling as he saw the wanton pleading in the brunette’s eyes. “But, before that,” he told her. “Repeat after me. You swear to uphold the truth, that the black man is superior....”
Caroline Wyatt, 43, principle of St Ignatious Girls Finishing School, couldn’t take her eyes from the slowly drooping black cock. She wanted it hard again. She wanted to taste the cum from the balls. She wanted it inside her again and again...
“I swear to uphold the truth,” she repeated, eyeing that wonderful black shaft. “That the black man is superior...”
“Let’s do this properly.” Iron grinned and stood up, letting her go. “Grab the cock, bitch.” he ordered and watched as she gripped the shaft in her right hand, easing the skin back. “You swear to uphold the truth.” he said. “That the black man is superior...”
“I swear to uphold the truth.” Caroline said again. “That the BLACK man is SUPERIOR!”
Anoter bitch, IronRod thought,grinning. “His cock greater,” he said.
“His cock greater...” Caroline Wyatt, 43, principle of St Ignatious Girls Finishing School, and black cock slut, repeated...
Lilgrove. Dig Site. Evening.
Callam checked his watch. It was getting close to sunset. The digging had been increased and shifts had been put in place. it was amazing what you could get men to do with the idea of free pussy at the end of the day. He switched on the pad and brought up the inventory of the trucks that were waiting in line in front of him. Each truck was manned by two people; a driver and co-driver, both trusted. There was an order that nothing was to stop them. When one man got tired the second could take over. It was a well-oiled machine. Damned if Callam knew to what end though.
He looked at the six trucks and saw they had been signed off. It was time. He pulled the radio from his belt and pressed the button. “Okay, people, you know where your going. Let’s go.” he said into the radio and the trucks responded with sound of engines turning over and starting. “Get going, and get back safely, people.”
Callam watched as the trucks started up and began rolling out towards the small town. They’d head through there. Next stop was... Like he could give a shit....
St Ignatious. Back of the Playing Fields. Evening.
Isabella liked it at this time of the day. It was still, and peaceful. The sun was going down. She looked at the hut and sat on the grass. She needed some alone time. Isabella still couldn’t believe. That dyke bitch Agnews had been seen running from the school. She’d grabbed her stuff from the classroom and told them she was leaving. That was two hours ago. No sign of any cops. Nothing. Something in Isabella told her that the bitch wasn’t going to do it. A small bird flew down and landed on a branch. Isabella made her hand into a gun and pretended to shoot it. POW!
Well, she had only herself to blame, Isabella thought as she opened her phone and hit the speed-dial before putting it to her ear. “Carlo, honey? It’s me. I need something done. A dyke by the name of Emma Agnews. She lives on Kirby Way.... Yeah, a dyke.... I don’t give a fuck what you do to her. Just tell her she was told, but don’t mention my name. And make sure she won’t fucking forget it!”
Isabella closed the phone and looked over at the bird. She watched it fly off and took a long, deep sniff of the air. Yeah, she liked it here. Nice and peaceful...
TO BE CONTINUED.
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