Ch.01

This short story takes place in the Helion Canon which can be found Here. Be advised that this story deals with horrendously offensive subjects. Graphic depictions of racism, sex, and drug use are heavily involved in the story. Prevalent use of the hard-R is used in conjunction with the POV of an openly racist main character. Christy was meant to portray the corruption of a MAGA-Karen to the cause of the BNWO, so do not seek out any good qualities in this character.


Christy's Sin.

The church was silent. The great, booming voice of Father Macklin still rang faintly in Christy's ears as she sat on the oaken pew, praying desperately. Her clasped hands shook slightly as she begged God to grant her the strength to make this last, life-altering step toward living her truth. She'd reviewed every angle, consulted every spin doctor, and retained every lawyer, but ultimately, nothing they'd told her made her feel any better about her path.

“Please, God. Please show me the trail I must walk. I've strayed so far from your light, and Father Macklin knows of no way to bring me back to it. I know in my heart that your grace will guide me, but even just one misstep will have me swinging from a tree. Please grace this foolish woman with a sign...”

The double doors at the far end of the church swung open with a groan, pulling Christy from her zealous prayer. She turned to see if Father Macklin had returned from seeing the other members out, but instead of his kindly, bespectacled face, Christy was met with something altogether... darker.

“I thought you'd be here. God seemed to be the only name you could call out last night.” The voice carried across the wooden benches and rumbled far up into the steeple. It was a heavy voice, oppressive to Christy's ears, and she shrank from it as though retreating from the blare of a siren. “You know, if you need help getting his attention, there are some booths along that wall over there where you could call out to him again.”

Christy's mouth was suddenly dry. She swallowed, trying to work some spit onto her uncomfortable tongue. “You shouldn't be here, William. This place is sacred. People like you shouldn't be allowed to step foot in such holy buildings. Leave now, and I won't have you lynched.” Christy winced; the threat sounded pathetic, even to her ears.

“You wound me, Christy. I've come to give grace to God, and yet you set upon me like a vengeful angel... even after we shared such blissful-”

“SHUT UP!!” Christy's shout rang out, echoing through the hall like a mournful wail. She could hear the shame and guilt in her voice; she could feel the conflict, hatred, and pain. “I said get out! I said leave! Don't you dare take another step, or so help me! I'll...” but William continued to approach her pew. His stride hadn't once slowed or faltered. The calm, steady thumps of his feet across the carpeted stone floor vibrated through Christy's chest as she watched him coming.

“No, Christy, I don't believe you will. We both know things have changed. I felt it as assuredly as I feel this floor under my feet. Deny it all you like, but neither of us can go back, not after what happened last night. God's not going to usher you away from me, not when he keeps pushing us together. Even your attempts to drive me away are hollow.”

Christy slammed her eyes shut as the previous night replayed in her mind. An involuntary gasp slipped from her lips as the raw pleasure resurfaced in her stomach. It had been a mistake, a lapse in judgment, a horrendous sin that she couldn't bear to admit she'd be capable of committing. “Y-you’re wrong… That was the devil's work! God wouldn't… I would never do that with a-” Christy cut herself off as her mind caught up with her words.

William grinned widely as he came to rest at the end of her bench. His towering frame loomed over her like an obsidian obelisk; the muscles—the dense, maddening musk—made her head swim as she looked up at him. “With a... what, Christy? Say it. I won't be upset with you; just say what's in your heart.”

Christy snarled, feeling like a cornered animal. She gnashed her teeth at the encroaching threat. “I would never fuck a nigger!” William's hand was suddenly clamped around her cheeks; the powerful fingers pinched her high cheekbones as his large palm pressed her lips shut. Christy yelled into the meat of his hand as she tried to pull herself from his grasp, but his strength was unyielding. She beat ineffectually at his forearm as he leaned in even closer to her.

“But you did, Christy. You fucked me like a two-dollar whore. You let this fat black dick pound out that tight little cunt like a woman possessed. And while you screamed out for God, you came all over it like a filthy slut. Even now, that worthless little snatch is staining this holy wood with your perverted bitch-juice, just thinking about having this “nigger” mount you like a fucking breeding mare. Don't act all prim and proper in this place of worship-as though you didn't piss all over your precious God just last night.”

Christy moaned as the memory of squatting over a small wooden cross and pissing on it flashed through her mind. Her eyes rolled back as William shook her head. “That's right, you racist bitch; there's no taking back what you did. But that's alright, you see? Unlike your useless, pathetic God, I won't judge you for your earthly desires. This pleasure is something to be reveled in, enjoyed, and pursued. It's not wrong to love and be loved. It's not wrong to feel good. It's not wrong to fucking cum.”

Christy gyrated on the bench as her body clenched through yet another climax. Just Williams' words were enough to cause her to spill her juices uncontrollably across the pew. Her hands clamped down around his heavily muscled forearm, and she squealed into his hand as her pussy throbbed. “That's a good bitch. You're not going to fight me or scream, are you?”

Christy shook her head. The wash of dopamine had her feeling as though she were floating several inches above the bench. Something in her brain was breaking down, malfunctioning like a neglected piece of machinery. “I'm going to take my hand off your face, and when I do, the next words out of your mouth will be "Yes, God.” Do you understand?”

William removed his hand, and Christy gasped as a small aftershock buzzed up her spine. “Yes… God…” Christy's hand navigated to her soaking wet crotch and began to work her clit through her slacks. The combination of fear, embarrassment, shame, and excitement was nuking her psyche, and she couldn't link coherent thoughts.

“You're going to meet me at the Belmonté Hotel in thirty minutes. Room two-thirty-five. You're going to check in at the desk as Kelly Temrin. I don't care what excuse you give to that sack of shit you call a husband, but you're staying with me for the night. If you don't arrive within thirty minutes, then in two weeks there will be an armed robbery at your son's part-time job. Do you need me to go on, or do you get the fucking picture?”

Christy trembled at the barely restrained edge of violence radiating off of William. He didn't even need the threat; in that moment, Christy wanted nothing more than to head directly to the hotel room. “No… God.” William smiled as he scooped a brawny hand between Christy's legs, cupping her pussy and squeezing it.

“This pussy is my property, and for the next twelve hours it's going to learn how to respect "niggers." Thank me for being a generous and caring God.”

Christy moaned at his touch. “Thank you, God.”

William released her crotch and straightened up. "Clean your fucking mess up and finish whatever bullshit you were doing before I got here. If you tell that faggot Macklin about any of this, he's getting jumped in the parking lot after lockup. Thank me for not burying your shitty priest in a shallow grave, slut.”

Christy resumed masturbating as she stared up into the dangerous eyes of her new God. “Thank you for sparing such a worthless man, God.”

William adjusted his tie and turned towards the exit. “Thirty minutes, not a second longer. Don't fuck with me.” And then he was out the door. Christy feverishly worked her pussy; the next twelve hours were going to be fucking amazing. William was such a fucking stud; every last inch of his body was built for worship. Her pants were ruined; there was no way she would be able to hide them from the father. Christy gasped and came again as she realized she didn't care.

Her husband came to mind, and she nearly laughed. It would be trivial to misdirect the idiot. He barely paid attention to her itinerary as it was, and he was such a disgustingly pathetic man that whatever suspicions he had would never actually be voiced. Christy could pop out a little black bastard, and the faggot would probably believe her if she told him it was his. For all of Ryan's numerous degrees, he was still the dumbest man she'd ever met. It was one of the reasons she'd married the loser; she didn't need some driven, ambitious achiever. She needed someone to raise her children and do what she said.

“Christy? Are you still praying?” Father Macklin appeared in the threshold. Christy didn't stop rubbing her pussy.

“I'm just... finishing... unnggghh." She groaned as she climaxed in front of the priest. He couldn't see what she was doing behind the back of the wooden bench, and the depravity of sinning in such a holy place in front of the Father pushed her into cumming, hard. “I'll be out soon, Father. My prayers were... heavy today.”

Christy had known Macklin since before she could remember. He'd been more of a father to her than her own deadbeat ***, finding her on the steps of this very church and bringing her in to teach her and give her a home away from home. And now she was pissing all over his benches. “Take your time, my girl. Lord God Almighty, I will hear your prayers and ease your troubles.”

Christy was getting close again. “Father, what would you do if, say, you caught a black man in here trying to pray to God?” The light left Macklin's eyes, and a solemn grimace spread across his face.

“Christy, how could you even speak such blasphemy here? Have shame, girl! If such filth came into my church, I'd have the devil hanged! Do not speak of such evil further!” A massive orgasm tore through Christy's body as she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

“You stupid old man... That very filth was just in here, making your precious “girl” piss herself in pleasure.” The thought spurred her into motion, and she began to gather her belongings to hurry along to Williams' hotel room. “You're right, Father. I shouldn't have spoken of such things. This beautiful church is for the true and proper humans, not those dirty barbarians.”

The look of pride that spread across Father Macklin's face made Christy want to crush his idiotic throat under her heel. His sweet little “girl” was about to have her guts rearranged by one of those barbarians. She'd been stolen from under his protective wing, and he had no clue. “May God go with you, child. Oh, and please let Ryan know that he's still not paid me for the apples. Our orchard is small, and that funding is crucial for its upkeep.”

Christy fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Fuck your stupid fucking apples and my dipshit faggot of a husband. I don't care; I seriously couldn't give a single shit. Just shut the fuck up.” She tucked her purse in front of her pants in a half-hearted attempt to cover the soaking wet spot rapidly bleeding down her thighs and moved past the priest. “I'll be sure to remind my husband of his commitment to this glorious church. May God be with you, Father.” And with that, Christy rushed out into the parking lot.

Many of the congregation were still milling about in their cars, engaging in minor conversation, and Christy wondered how William had managed to come and go as he had. She sniggered to herself, thinking it was a miracle. How ironic. As she crossed the gravel parking lot, a voice called to her in an attempt to delay her journey to Williams' hotel room. “Senator! Senator Mezlené!” Christy turned to see a fat, red-faced woman waddling towards her.

"Ah, fuck, not this stupid bitch again...” Christy groaned before plastering a jovial smile across her face. “Ah! Melanie! That dress is adorable! I must know where you got it.” The portly woman grew a smug, prideful grin as she seemed to inflate ever-so-slightly.

“A woman must keep some secrets, Senator! Otherwise, the competition might gain some footing on me, ho ho ho!” Christy watched on in horror as the woman's multiple chins jiggled with each labored chortle. “Ah, but I'm not here to give fashion advice! I need you to consider voting against Bill A-three-nine-five. Those deplorable vagrants can't possibly be given yet another handout! Surely there must be something we can do to protect our children from having to mix with those violent groomers.”

The bill Melanie was referring to had originally been proposed as a way to ease racial tensions by allowing newly immigrated families to enroll their children in private schools at reduced tuition. This had enraged her conservative constituency and sent a wave of panic through the pearl-clutching clique of wasp-wives. Christy had opposed the bill vehemently and had spoken on multiple occasions about its potential harm to home-grown, true-blood, God-loving American children. As it stood, the bill would likely be struck down if she continued to oppose it.

But Christy rubbed her belly. The idea of shitting out Williams' brat and having it immediately qualify for the tuition break based on its skin color sent sparks of nauseating pleasure through her body. Yes, it would just be another way for her to cuck her stupid, useless husband. While his pathetic offspring struggled to make loan payments on astronomical student debt, William's kids would sail through school on their backs, using their hard-earned taxes to coast across the finish line. Christy grunted as a small orgasm trailed up her spine.

"You've got nothing to fear, Melanie. I swear that as long as I hold my seat, our children will never have to share a space with those vile apes.” The disgusting hog of a woman squealed in delight, but the look of embarrassed apprehension didn't quite leave her swollen face.

“Uh, Senator, about that... picture. You know, the girls and I have done everything we can to try to shut down the gossip lines, but some of us are starting to ask... questions.” Christy knew the comment was coming, but the shame and rage still caused her cheeks to flush. These indolent housewives had nothing better to do than sit around drinking and drugging themselves into the most asinine conspiracies. Unfortunately for Christy, this one happened to be real.

“Nothing but some clever doctoring. Someone out there must take me for quite the looker if they went through that much trouble to create such a slanderous piece of pornography. We'll find the deviant who produced it, and they will be brought to justice.” This seemed to finally quell the obese woman's concerns.

“I never doubted you, Christy. But you know how the ladies get... any morsel of scandal and they pounce on it like lions.” Christy scoffed internally. More like fucking vultures; that group of brainless bimbos were just circling, waiting for their chance to pick her corpse clean after the media circus had its chance to shred her career and life.

“But... do you think they're actually... like that?” The question caught Christy off guard, and she didn't understand at first. Noticing her confusion, Melanie leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “Their... you know! Is it that big?” Christy's eyes widened as she realized the fat cunt was asking her about the size of Williams' cock. She almost laughed in Melanie's face.

“Of course not!” She lied, “How could they possibly have something like that when they're so clearly inferior in every other regard? Preposterous! My dear Ryan is more adequately... equipped than that terrible work of Photoshop.” In reality, it wasn't even close. Ryan couldn't make it to three inches erect on a good day. To say the difference was pathetic wasn't even scratching the surface of her husband's incredible inferiority.

“Yes! Yes, of course, you're right, ho ho ho! I must say, whoever crafted that piece of trickery must be quite skilled. It all looks so strikingly... real.” And that was because it had been real. The picture Melanie was talking about happened to be from Christy's first time submitting herself to William. It showed her staring up from between his well-muscled legs with a temporary Queen of Spades tattoo on her right cheek; the other half of her face completely obscured by William's massive Cunt-Breaker. Every last inch of that ebony shaft had been utterly unaltered.

Christy suspected that one of William's friends had leaked the picture by accident, but she wouldn't have put it past him to slip it to the media himself. The arrogant prick thought he could conduct her life with such ease, and he wasn't wrong. “I have to leave, Melanie; a pressing matter requires my urgent attention. Please be well, and may God be with you.”

The fat woman dipped her head and turned to waddle away as Christy continued to her SUV. The black Escalade had been a gift from her husband for their first anniversary. It had also been the thing that brought William into her life. Thumbing the key fob, she swung the driver's side door open and climbed up into the seat. She adjusted the rearview mirror and caught a faint glimpse of the two handprints on the rear window where William had taken her for the first time.

She craned her head around to inspect the seat, and sure enough, the stain was still slightly visible where William had forced her to cum. Christy rummaged through her purse and found her cigarette case. She didn't smoke—not officially. She hadn't started until just a few weeks ago and had been keeping it a secret from her ****** and colleagues. She had taken one from William the night they met and had continued to take them after the stress of having him in her life started building.

Her passion was cooling, and she was thinking more clearly now that she was in her SUV. She glanced over at the remaining churchgoers and knew she couldn't light up within view of them. “Fucking William, stupid fucking prick. God damn you for making me do this!” She pressed the ignition button and backed out of her spot, waving to the people as she passed them. This affair couldn't last; inevitably, people would find out, and her life as she knew it would be over. Her husband would leave her, she'd lose her children in the divorce, and she would be forced to step down from her seat in the Senate.

She couldn't risk it. None of this was worth it. She pulled off the small, paved road and fished her phone out of her purse before lighting a cigarette. She would text William and tell him that this needed to end. She'd come up with some excuse to pull her son away from his job—maybe a vacation? Opening her phone, she was greeted with a background of her children, arm in arm, with her husband smiling back at her. She had two missed texts from Ryan. "Hey, babe, I'm going out with the boys tonight, so I won't be around.” Christy gritted her teeth and read the next.

“Can you get Bella from her thing? The boys wanted to meet earlier, so I won't be able to. You aren't busy, right?” Christy could feel the vein in her forehead begin to bulge out as her rage built. This stupid fucking loser couldn't even do the single thing she kept him around for. It wasn't even the first time that week that he'd tried to abandon his responsibility to her children.

Christy took a long, hard drag of her cigarette before angrily punching out a response. “No, Ryan, I can't pick up Bella because I'm actually VERY busy. Remind me how many hours you've spent working this week. Was it more than three? Your “boys” can wait an hour before you all start sucking each other off. Get Bella, and get our sitter to handle the kids until you get home. I'll be in the office all night. For someone with no real job, you sure don't do much.” She hit send and then slumped back in her seat.

Fucking useless piece of free-loading shit! Her phone chimed, and for a moment she thought of just ignoring it, not wanting to read her husband's whining. But it occurred to her that it might not be him. Opening her phone up to the messages, she saw a text from William. She opened it and saw a simple picture with a short message. The picture was a low-angle shot, aimed up between his legs. He was sitting in what looked like a hotel lounge chair, naked as sin. His enormous shaft stood straight up between his legs, and he had one hand wrapped around the base, as though welding it like a club. The message read, “15 minutes or ur son wears a toe tag.”

Christy bit her lip. It was a risk to go, but if she didn't... She quickly typed out a response, “B there in 5", and threw her SUV into drive. As she approached the hotel, her paranoia increased. It was a heavily trafficked hotel, somewhere the paparazzi would be likely to camp out. The morning church traffic was still thick and would help to mask her arrival, but she still needed to be more discreet. She put on a pair of large sunglasses and ruffled her shoulder-length blonde hair to make her look less put-together. As a last touch, she removed her Sunday blazer and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her blouse.

Giving herself a once-over, she decided she looked sufficiently trashy to not quite pass as a federal senator. Gathering up as much of her courage as she could, she lit a second cigarette and stepped from her SUV into the hot, Sunday sun. The parking lot was baking in the mid-summer heat, and the sheen of sweat accumulating between her breasts would only serve to help her look more like a cheap floozy.

Stamping out her butt at the entrance, she passed through the doors and into the air-conditioned lobby. The check-in desk was busy, but a female staff member waved her over. “I'm checking in. It's under Kelly Temrin.” Christy tried her best to sound confident and calm, but the shake in her voice was audible. The teller glanced from her computer screen up at Christy, and a small, knowing smirk spread across her lips. Christy's heart sank as the fear that she'd been recognized began to overwhelm her nerves.

“Of course, Mrs. Temrin. Your husband was just ahead of you. Here's your card, and just between you and me... She leaned over the desk to whisper politely into Christy's ear. “There's a condom dispenser on the third floor that sells magnums. The other machines are made for whitebois.” With a playful wink, she sat back down and waved the next customer over to be served. “Please enjoy your stay with us!”

Christy's head swam from the potent cocktail of hormones coursing through her body. Of course, the teller knew. Maybe not who Christy was, but she knew what she was here for. Would she manage to put the pieces together? How long before that sprightly teen behind the counter figured it out? Surely she'd seen the picture. Christy swayed over to the elevator and hit the button to take her up. What was going to happen to her? What was she even doing here?

The doors slid open, and she stepped out into the quiet hotel hallway. Dim noises could be heard behind doors as she passed them. Some were normal, others were obscene. Christy wondered what sort of sounds she would be making. Would she sound like these filthy whores? Wailing and moaning in pleasure like some barnyard sow? The butterflies in her stomach began to dance as Williams' door came into view. Whatever was about to happen would forever alter the course of her life and likely break her completely.

With a shaking hand, she slipped the card through the reader, and the lock beeped and clicked. She pushed down on the handle but didn't open the door. She sat frozen, partially in fear and partially in wonder at herself for being capable of this. She was cheating on her husband. She was committing a grave sin. Something she knew she could never be forgiven for. She was betraying the man she had sworn a holy oath to, the man whom she was supposed to love and cherish for all her years. She was about to walk into a hotel room and have her life fucked out of her by some...

And then the door swung open, and William stood before her, bare-chested and grinning ear to ear. Christy stared up at him dumbly, her mouth parted like some suffocating fish. “Bitch, get the fuck in this room or you're going to fuck this all up!” His powerful hand wrapped itself up in her hair and yanked her bodily through the doorway. Christy yelled but submitted to the action, chasing his hand into the room before stumbling to her hands and knees just inside the entryway.

The shock of the motion set her mind to work again, and she turned to snarl up at William. “How dare you! Keep your filthy paws off me, you fucking animal!” William just laughed and dropped the towel that had been wrapped around his waist. Christy gasped as his magnificent python was laid bare before her. It jutted from his crotch like a proud monument; the length and girth were something Christy had only ever thought could be a myth. The rich, dark tone of his black skin held a sheen of lubrication that he'd obviously used to keep himself hard before she arrived. It swung lazily back and forth as he stepped towards her, pendulously hypnotizing her into following its movements.

It was possibly one of the most beautiful things Christy had ever set her eyes on, and as William stepped up to her semi-prone form, it only grew in size. Christy started to get up, but William cut her short with a barked command, “KNEEL.” The strength flowed out of Christy's legs, and she slumped to her knees, entirely cowed by the massive man's words. She clenched her fists; she wasn't going to let this happen. She had too much to lose, and some knuckle-dragging ape wasn't going to push her around like this; she was a fucking senator!

“You listen here, you mud-skinned monkey. I don't care what pisswater country you managed to drag yourself out of, but you aren't shit here. You think just because you've got a big dick, that means I'm just going to bend over for you? I could make one phone call and have you swinging from a tree by the end of the day. You get that? I'm a federal fucking senator; more people worship me than fucking Christ himself. If you think for one moment I'm going to let you filthy nigg-”

But she was cut off by the back of William's hand. Her head rocked to the side, and her vision was filled with motes of light. An intense ringing muffled the sounds of the room as Christy attempted to straighten herself. A massive hand clamped down on the back of her head, and before she could make sense of what had happened, William had his cock in her mouth. Her lips stretched to accommodate his swollen glans, and as inch after inch pushed past her teeth, she tried her best not to gag and retch.

She thought briefly about biting down, but knew that would only result in her being buried in multiple suitcases. “It's Somalia, by the way. My little “pisswater” country. Not that you've ever heard of it.” His cock bounced gently off the back of her throat, and she tried to blink tears out of her eyes. “Today will be about lessons, Christy. I'm going to teach you the things God does not wish for you to know.” He applied pressure against the back of her head, and she gagged as the head of his cock lodged itself in the back of her throat.

“That's it; it hurts, doesn't it? It'll pass. By this time tomorrow, you'll be licking my balls just like this. I'll teach you all about the “niggers” you hate so much. I'll teach you how you were lied to. I'll teach you how your God has abandoned you and what love truly is, and I'll teach you why I picked you out of all the thousands of easy cunts walking the streets of this city.” Christy's jaw was growing tired from trying to keep her teeth off the shaft of his cock.

“You know, I'd probably still be back in my home country if it weren't for a stuck-up white bitch like you. The U.N. dispatched aid workers to my village after a devastating flood. I guess I must have caught her eye, because she ended up adopting me and bringing me back here with her. Life was hard; we didn't make much, but she gave me a home, educated me, and taught me that you white folk have a lot more than you need.”

His thrusts were growing more powerful, and the back of Christy's throat began to get sore. She was gagging and retching as he used her face like a cheap pussy, but she hadn't thrown up yet. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she placed them on his thighs for balance. It was hard to pay attention to what he was saying, but she tried.

“I spent seventeen long years dedicating myself to obtaining the best education I could. But every step of the way, this pathetic system stepped in to beat me back down. Do you know how hard it is to get ahead when you're black, Christy?” There was a long pause, and then William smacked the back of her head. “I asked you a fuckin’ question, slut.”

Christy shook her head, trying to pull his cock out of her mouth, but he wouldn't let her. “Nah, of course you don't. How could you? Fed with a silver spoon from the womb. You haven't struggled once in your 30 years, have you?” Christy knew better this time and shook her head again. “Smart bitch. Anyway, I was denied entry into the university I applied to. And then the one after that, and the next, and then the next. You know what I learned through all that?” Christy shook her head again, trying to breathe through her nose as best she could.

“I learned that crime pays in this country. I learned that life goes better when you fit into the mold they set for you. I learned that I was never meant to be that Ivy League rich-boy my mama always said I would be. Nah, they wanted me to be a gangbanger; they wanted me to be a convenience store robber. They wanted me to be a crook, a delinquent, a criminal.” Christy retched, and this time a mouthful of bile came up with it. That's what William was, though? He was a ****** and a criminal. He was a brute and an animal. It was in his nature... Wasn't it?

“When I say "they,” who do you think I mean, Christy?” She looked up to see him staring down at her. She shook her head, and he smiled. “It's you, you bitch. Of course, it's fucking you, you stupid whore. Do you think I wasn't watching every time you struck down laws that could help me? Do you think I wasn't watching when you went on your idiotic “debates” and complained about immigrants? Your stupid fucking face was plastered all over the news. Every. Fucking. Day.”

His thrusts were growing violent now, and Christy began to push against his thighs to no effect. “I sat there and watched you dismantle almost every positive law proposed to help us. I watched you peddle your bullshit opinion to all the devoted little Christians willing to suckle on your sagging tits. It disgusted me and fueled this resentment I feel for your kind, watching all those sick white parrots squawk back with a unanimous delusion. And then I knew what I had to do. It was on my twenty-second birthday. You were doing some kind of rally in my hometown, speaking about repealing planned parenthood access for first and second-generation citizens.”

Christy's head was bouncing off the end of his cock now, and she was having difficulty breathing. It was taking everything she had in her not to empty her stomach all over the floor. “You know who went to that rally? My fuckin’ mama. The woman who took me in and raised me as her own. The woman that sheltered me, cared for me, fed me, and clothed me. I knew at that moment, it had all been a show. Posturing for karma, she'd prance me around like a fuckin' show pony to her friends. She never truly loved me. Never truly respected me. I was a social bargaining chip she could cash in for easy credit.”

Christy started to pass out. “Anyway, when Mama got back from the rally, I ***** her and buried her in a freshly dug grave at the cemetery. I skipped town, and I've been on the hunt for you ever since.” Christy missed a lot of what he said, but she knew it wasn't good. Her hands slipped from his thighs, and she began to droop. Finally, he pulled his cock out of her mouth and cranked her head back so she could look him in the eye. “Now that I've found you, we're going to make a better world for me and my people. Are you hearing me?”

Christy moaned as her eyes rolled around in their sockets. The front of her blouse was soaked in spit, pre-cum, and puke. William ripped it off of her body, and she barely noticed. “Get up; we're taking this to the window.” Christy mindlessly obeyed, allowing herself to be pulled along the floor on her hands and knees. The oxygen deprivation was wearing off, and sound started to return to the room. Her thoughts caught up with her, and she began to resist his pull.

“Ow! Let go, you fucking murderer! I can fucking walk! I said, Let go! Just wait until I get out of here! I'll make sure you-oooffff." The air rushed out of Christy's lungs as William's shin collided with her ribs. She immediately curled up into a wheezing ball on the floor, cradling her right side in an attempt to avoid further punishment.

“You are a stupid hoe. What kind of idiot threatens a murderer? I don't need your permission for shit; I don't need to listen to you; I don't need to worry about your fragile little emotions. What part of “you are my property” did you not fully understand? Your body is my body, and your life is my life, and I'll do whatever the fuck I please with it when I please. So before you go on spouting your annoying bullshit, let's clear up lesson number two. I don't want to hear your fucking voice unless I ask for it. No more whining, no more ranting, or name-calling. If you have something to say, then fucking keep it to yourself. Are we clear? Or do I need to rattle your ribs a second fucking time?”

Christy coughed and winced as a shooting pain lanced up her right side. “I think... ahhhhhh, I think... you broke them.”

William chuckled as he knelt beside her. “Nah, you ain't never broken a bone in your life; trust me, you'd know if they were broken. C’mon, get up. Your pussy needs to pull its weight.” He hooked an arm under hers and hauled her to her feet. She groaned with the effort but stood under her own power. “Here, right there.” William pressed her body against the warm glass of the hotel room window. Her breasts squished as he applied more of his body weight. Her cheek made a soft thump as his massive hand pinned it to the glass.

“You see that city out there? Full of people just going about their lives like nothing bad is happening. Shopping for groceries, watering gardens, and visiting ******. It's nice to think about, right? But you stole that from me, Christy. You're stealing it from every last person of color in this God-forsaken country every time you open that slutty little mouth of yours. So I'm stealing it from you, too. This isn't your city now. Those aren't your people. They're mine. Because I own you. My first act as a senator is to approve Bill A-three-nine-five.”

Christy grunted against the glass as William tore her pants down from around her waist. “Oh! What a lovely shade of red! Did you wear these for me? I have to say, the lace suits you.” He dug his fingers around the waistband of her thong and then tore it off her body like tissue paper. Christy squealed as the fabric dug into her skin before snapping. “Let's see… oh-ho! Damn, Christy! Either you pissed yourself giving me head, or you're more turned on than you've ever been.” William slid two fingers across Christy's pussy and came away absolutely dripping with juice.

“I would never-” Christy was cut off by his fingers slipping into her mouth. At first, she tried to bite them, but a threatening growl from William shut that down fast. Then she started to pick up on her flavor. There was so much. Just how fucking wet was she? It had to be some kind of trick he was using to get into her head. But then his cock pressed up against her cunt, and her mind shut off. She knew what was coming; she'd been down this road with him already, and she braced herself for the incomprehensible sense of fullness she got every time.

It had been a fight to fit the tip of his cock inside her. She had screamed, cried, and thrashed the first time, feeling parts of herself tearing and stretching that she didn't even know she had. She'd been wet then, too. But this was different. The pressure he applied only led to pleasure, and without even so much as a whimper, his cock slid into her unprotected pussy. "Ahhhh, fuck, it looks like your body's finally coming around.”

Christy grunted in response, involuntarily clenching around his ridiculously massive cock. He cooed into her ear as he began to rock his hips, and Christy squealed as his girth pushed apart the walls of her vagina. “Take a good fucking look at the city you're about to burn down around you, bitch. Every little member of your stupid cult will be hanging themselves by the hundreds come the end of the year, mark my words. It's time you started paying reparations for the damage you've done.”

Christy came instantly, spraying a hot jet of piss all over the hotel carpet. “That's right, it feels good to betray your race, doesn't it? It makes you cum thinking about all those moronic white faggots jumping from the rooftops, doesn't it?” Christy moaned as his cock dug ever deeper into her hot sex. “Every bill you walk back, every law you abandon, every black man you release from prison, I'll be right there, pumping that tight little pussy full of my seed.” Christy looked out over the city, and for the first time, she could see the life within it.

In that moment, it felt as though some cloudy veil had been lifted from her eyes and the majesty of life was laid bare below her. The bustling people, the winding traffic, the businesses, homes, and parks. It all sparkled for her as another rapturous orgasm ripped through her body and physically ejected Williams' cock from her cunt. Her body shook violently as she lost control of her muscles. She howled through clenched teeth and lost consciousness as the strain skyrocketed her blood pressure.

Suddenly, she was back in her Escalade. It was dark, and it was raining. She wasn't in the driver's seat; she was in the back seat, and the air was thick with smoke, both weed and cigarettes. She remembered this night; she'd heard of someone through the grapevine—a dealer, a consummate professional. He was discreet and well-mannered for a thug, had the right connections, and wouldn't let anything slip. Christy had trusted her contact; she trusted the dealer wouldn't fuck her over.

She'd never touched drugs, never had a drop of alcohol, and she hadn't indulged in a single vice once in all her 30 years, and those gaps in experience were holding her back. She needed to know how it felt, what it was like, who was involved. She needed to experience the process on the ground. See firsthand the kinds of people ruining her city... her country. The alley outside her fogged windows was pitch black, and the only light for blocks was the small, red cherry embers slowly burning at the end of her glass pipe. The man sitting next to her was unidentifiable, his obsidian skin camouflaging him in the total darkness of the car.

“Well? Good shit, right? It's expensive, but worth every cent when you can get your hands on it. I can get you two grams now and another eight next week. Unless the cheaper shit turns your crank.” His deep voice tickled the back of her skull in a way she hadn't felt before. It soothed her, ensnared her, and seduced her. “Some of the shit they lace this with would blow your fuckin' mind out of your fuckin' eye sockets.” He took a drag of his cigarette and passed one to Christy. “You're going to want that in a minute, trust me.”

Christy took the cigarette and ogled it. Such a small thing—a delicate little paper stick. She thought for a moment that it looked quite regal and wasn't quite sure why, though, by this point, she was having trouble understanding much of what was happening. The weed was starting to hit her hard, and she found herself lapsing into moments of examining the small details of the interior of her car as though they held deep, universe-shaking secrets. She needed water, and as she turned to ask the man for some, a cool bottle settled between her legs.

“On the house, that should help beat back some of those cotton balls you've got stuffed in your mouth.” Christy stared down in wonder at the bottle of beer. How had he known?! Was he psychic? Reading her mind to uncover the secrets of her work? Was he an agent of internal affairs? “Whoooaaaaa lady, chill. I know that look. I ain't here to nail you to a wall. I'm just another drug-peddlin’ nigga; ain't nobody you have to worry about.”

The tension flooded from Christy's shoulders. Of course, he was just another shit-skin street thug. Barely able to scrape by without resorting to crime, his delinquency was fueled by his violent nature. Christy felt a warmth kindle in her crotch at the thought, and she latched onto it; it felt good. He was a menace, a threat to the poor, defenseless whites who were just trying to live honest lives. And she was sitting right next to him, doing drugs. The immorality made her unbelievably wet. What would her husband think if he found out? Her colleagues? She'd be crucified!

She took a swig of the beer and winced as the bitter sting of the liquid assaulted her tongue. But why was this turning her on? The depravity of it was making her pussy throb, and she could feel the heat in her cheeks. “I can make this better if you want. I can turn this into a feeling you'll never forget. Right now, there's not a soul here but you, me, n’ God. No one would ever have to know.” His voice hummed through her ear, his lips just a hair's breadth from her head. It made her skin prickle, and she moaned.

Then his hand slipped between her legs and he removed the beer. It startled her, but she didn't move or speak; she let it happen. She was already knee-deep in sin; surely this would all be forgiven during confession. Why not let this play out? She needed the experience; she needed to know what this life was like in order to combat it, so why not go along with it? His hand found her crotch, and he began to rub small circles across her clit. She gasped and threw her head back in ecstasy as the pleasure washed over her. Was it the drugs? Were they making her feel this, or was it something else?

She brought the pipe to her lips and inhaled again as he continued to massage her pussy. She had never felt this good in her life. Letting go of every moral she had carefully held and releasing herself from the crushing weight of duty and responsibility, she let him toy with her body. Soon he was kissing her neck, pawing at her breasts, kissing her cheek, and then she was kissing him. She stopped thinking and allowed herself to get swept up in the motion of sex, letting her heated passion guide her as she fumbled at his belt.

He had already undone her slacks, and she pushed her ass off the seat so that he could pull them down around her knees. She mounted him, never breaking her hold on his lips. Something slapped against her ass, and she thought for a moment it might have been a baseball bat for how big it was. She didn't care or think; she fell into his body as though it were a great ocean. He opened her blouse and pushed up her bra to reveal her breasts; he cupped and squeezed them as the bat slid back and forth between her ass cheeks.

And then its tip was pressed against her pussy, and she yipped. It was massive; he wasn't honestly going to try to put that inside her, was he? But then his hands clamped around her hips, and he began to press her down. She grunted and tried to shift away. Why was he trying to fuck her with a bat? Just how stupid was he? But his iron grip and prodigious strength prevented her from moving away, and he resumed his attack on her near-virgin slit. She felt her soft, wet lips part for the object, spreading around it as the pressure continued to mount.

She broke off her kiss and hissed as it began to work its way inside her. “What the fuck?” He simply shushed her and kept up the force. Bit by bit, he was making her sit on it. She could feel her body yielding to its girth, but it was painful. “It's not going to fit! Why a bat?!” He smirked and hooked a hand around the back of her neck, dragging her into another kiss as his other hand worked to drag her waist down onto the massive shaft.

Christy squealed into his mouth as the tip finally forced its way inside her. An explosion of pain and pleasure rocked her brain, and she threw her hands up onto her rear window to keep from curling into his chest. “Ow! Owowowow! Just fuck me with your dick! You stupid nigger!” The man slapped her ass, and she jumped, causing the tip to slide out with a very wet pop.

“The fuck you think I'm doin’, you bitch.” Christy glanced down to see the glistening head of the man's cock swaying beneath her pussy, a very obvious trail of her juices connecting it to her slit. She gazed down at it, momentarily stunned by its size.

"Oh, Lord, Jesus, help me. What the fuck? I-I can't… That's… it'll kill me!”

The man smirked and slapped her ass a second time. “Shut the fuck up and sit on it, you dumb white cunt.” He brought her hips back down and, with a slight wiggle, had the tip back in her. “That's it, just like that, baby. Nice and slow.” Christy moaned as another inch pushed up her guts. Her teeth ground against one another as she rocked her hips, trying to ease her progress down his massive rod.

“Here, sniff this; it'll help with the pain.” The man brought a small white powder to Christy's nose, and she snorted. It stung, and the heavy chemical aroma shifted into an electric buzz that immediately jolted her brain, and then suddenly she was falling. No, not falling... bouncing? Riding? She looked down, and the man had his mouth around her breast as he worked her hips with his hands. He was fucking her. She was cumming.

Christy threw her head back and screamed as the orgasm eliminated her self-control. She could feel the hot geyser of squirt splash onto the man's hips and balls, but he didn't stop. He was saying something, telling her to repeat after him, and she did. Over and over, like a mantra, she continued to bounce on his cock like a sex toy. “Black lives matter. Black lives matter. Black lives matter.” Even after he stopped speaking, she kept saying the words. His hand caught her across her left cheek, and he barked at her to say it louder. She shouted it as another orgasm began to spark its way up her spine. “BLACK LIVES MATTER! BLACK LIVES MA-” Then she was cumming again.

He continued to degrade her; he wasn't even controlling her movements anymore. Christy was throwing her hips down on his fat cock all on her own. “Say you love my nigger-dick bitch! Say it! Admit, you fuckin’ love this nigger dick!” Christy did, without hesitation. The thought of disobeying him never even crossed her mind as she rode him as though her life depended on it. “Say you want my black babies! Beg for me to knock you up, slut!” Christy did; she pleaded for him to impregnate her.

And then he did. With a harsh growl and a hand around her throat, the man dumped his hot load deep inside her spasming pussy. Christy screamed as the sensation forced another explosive orgasm out of her; she'd never cum so much, or so hard, in her life. Her body collapsed onto the seat next to the man, and it was all she could do to just gasp and moan as his thick seed slowly seeped out of her abused hole. The man passed her a lit cigarette, and she took it with a shaking hand.

Christy drew in a trembling breath of the smoke and immediately decided that she quite enjoyed the sensation. “Same time next week. No condoms; bring fifteen hundred in fives and tens. Don't bother sending your fed goons to track me; you won't find me. I'll contact you with the location. If I catch wind of you runnin’ your mouth, well..."

Christy took another drag as the man did up his pants and gathered the money and drugs. “What's your name?” Christy croaked, barely able to move her mouth.

The man just smiled and opened her door before stepping out into the rain-soaked night. “We'll get there.” And then the door slammed shut.

Christy awoke on the hotel room bed. Groggy and disoriented, she felt an uncomfortable heat from her crotch and reached down to tenderly explore it. Her hand came away soaked in cum. Then she remembered William... The sex. She glanced around, only to spot a video recorder on a tripod at the end of the bed. The little red light was blinking. “It took you long enough. I didn't think I'd make you cum your brains out, but it seems you're a bigger slut than I thought.”

Christy swiveled her head to see William standing in the doorway to the small ensuite washroom. “Is that...?” she pointed to the camera.

“Yep, caught the whole thing. You were fuckin' gone, though, so I doubt you remember too much of that. Had you sayin' some disgusting shit, too! Like, the kind of shit’d get you flagged as a terrorist. Honestly, I didn't think you had it in you.” Christy paled slightly at his words. Just what the fuck had he made her say?

“There's a pack of cigarettes on the nightstand; you probably need one. Curious about what you said? I can play it back if you want. Gotta say, though, you said it like you meant it. Might spook you.” Christy rolled onto her side and grabbed the pack of cigarettes along with the lighter. She pulled one out, put it to her lips, and lit it.

“It can't be any worse than that fucking picture; thanks for that, by the way. It's turning into a PR nightmare, and my damage control is barely keeping a lid on it.” Christy tossed the lighter back onto the nightstand as William stepped across the room. She tracked him as he went, studying his Olympian figure. Even limp, his cock swung side to side as he stepped. “God, it is fucking massive.” He smirked but chose not to respond; instead, he pressed a couple of buttons on the recorder, and it picked up mid-session.

“FUCK MY PUSSY! FUCK IT! OHHHHH FUCK THAT LITTLE WHITE PUSSY YOU HUNG NIGGER!” Christy winced but wasn't too surprised by it. It wasn't nearly as bad as- “OHHHHH, FUCK YES, FUCK THE WHITE RACE! BLACK LIVES MATTER! YES, YES, YES, POUND IT! UGH FUCK MY PINDICK LOSER HUSBAND, YOU'RE SO MUCH BETTER!”

William's voice could be heard under the constant slapping of her ass against his hips, telling her to abandon her ******. To have his children replace her inferior parasites. “OH FUCK! YES! I WISH I’D FUCKING ABORTED THAT LOSERS SHIT KIDS!” Christy sighed before taking another drag of her smoke.

“So that's it, then? I'm fucked. I'm assuming if I told you to delete it, you'd just send it to my friends and ******.” William nodded at her question, and she hung her head. A small spurt of his cum bubbled out from her spent pussy, and she chuckled darkly. “Alright, you bastard. I'll play your game. I'll spread my pussy for you, bend my ass over, and let you do what you want. I've abandoned my ******; I've abandoned God; what does it matter if I abandon my pride along with them?”

William came over to the bed and sat on the edge closest to Christy. “You know, I was the youngest person ever granted a seat in the Senate. I clawed tooth and nail to be recognized. Greased palms, networked, and proved myself by every measurable standard there was. I believed I was “doing God's work,” but after I met you, well, like I said on the tape, “fuck the white race,” I guess. William laid back and pulled her head to his thigh.

She lay there, thinking and smoking for a while, as his cum continued to leak from her. Finally, once she was finished, she turned her head and gently began to kiss his limp cock. “What do I do now? What would you have me do to my country? We both know I have people's hearts. Odds are good; they would follow where I lead them, even if they don't understand why.”

William stroked her hair as she resumed making out with his cock. “We're going to show them what the world could be. We'll lead them down the path of equality. But, most importantly, we'll make every single last white fuck alive wish they had never been born."
Next: Ch.02