I came to with my face stinging, hard slaps cracking across my cheeks over and over. My head lolled, vision blurry, the taste of blood in my mouth.
“Wake up, bitch,” a deep, rumbling voice growled. “I paid good money for some pussy and I want you awake.”
The big bear of a man from earlier loomed over me—6’7”, easily 290 pounds of solid muscle, a thug-built Black god with ink covering his neck and both massive arms. On his neck was a large teardrop tattoo dripping blood, intertwined with the words “TRAP LORD” in bold Old English lettering. His right arm featured a smoking AK-47 wrapped in chains and roses, while the left displayed a crowned skull with dollar signs for eyes and “Only The Strong Survive” scripted underneath. His chest and shoulders were broad enough to block out the light, abs like carved stone under dark skin glistening with sweat. Between his thick thighs swung a monstrous 12-inch soda-can-thick cut dick, already rock hard and veined like a weapon, the fat purple head leaking precum.
He was smoking a fat blunt, cherry glowing as he took another pull and blew the smoke directly into my face. Without giving me a second to breathe, he flipped me onto my stomach like I weighed nothing, yanked my hips up, and rammed that massive dick straight into my already sore, cum-leaking ass in one vicious thrust.
“Fuuuuck!” I screamed, the pain exploding through my body as he stretched me way past my limit. It felt like I was being split in half. He didn’t ease up. He fucked like a wild animal—long, brutal strokes that bottomed out against my guts, his heavy balls slapping loudly against me. The wet, nasty squelching sounds of his previous load being churned mixed with my broken cries.
“Yeah, take this big dick, you worthless hole,” he snarled, one tattooed hand gripping the back of my neck, pinning me down while the other held the blunt to his lips. Smoke curled around us as he pounded harder, hips slamming with enough force to scoot the bed across the floor. “This pussy already loose from that last nigga, but I’m finna wreck it proper. Grip that shit—fuck yeah.”
He was aggressive and filthy, spitting on my back, slapping my ass red, then reaching around to twist my nipples hard while never missing a stroke. His massive frame completely covered mine, sweat dripping off his muscles onto my skin. Every deep thrust made my eyes roll back, the pain slowly twisting into something darker and more shameful as my body betrayed me again, my own dick leaking onto the sheets.
He fucked me relentlessly for what felt like hours, grunting like a beast, calling me every degrading name he could think of—“cumdump,” “raped-out bitch,” “my new personal fucktoy.” The blunt stayed between his lips the whole time, ash falling on my back as he railed me.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Please… stop,” I begged, voice hoarse and broken. “I can’t… it hurts too much…”
He laughed, low and cruel, and slammed in even deeper, grinding his hips in circles. “Shut the fuck up, bitch. I’ll stop after I fist this pussy.”
His thick fingers started working alongside his still-buried cock, forcing more and more into my wrecked hole as the chapter of the night spiraled even darker.
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