Should you be offended by explicit sexual material, or if you are under age in your local, please read no further. Please leave and avoid both of us embarrassment.

This little tale is a work of fiction. No one in this story is based on anyone in real life. Any apparent references or relationships to real people or events are purely coincidental, and not intentional.

The reader should also recognize that, as everything in this work is fiction, this story is meant for entertainment and amusement. There are many acts described of violence and behavior considered unacceptable by society. No actions are condoned or otherwise sanctioned or encouraged.

Krissie Beavers

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Midas Sophomore Part Four - Vickie Verges

Vickie spent two days with the black woman, in a trailer park on the edge of town. She submitted to every whim of her black lover, sinking ever further into depravity. She licked and sucked black pussy, served as a toilet on two occasions, and was introduced to strap and slap. Three trips to the ATM hit her bank account very hard. She entertained two of Chocolate’s black male friends, futilely striving for the ripping orgasms Jamil had gifted her with. They didn’t care that she was experiencing a highly unusual menstrual period, as her body reset. Eventually she was dropped off at a bus station. Still wearing her shear blouse and tight pants, she had to deal with the attentions of two of her fellow passengers. The others watched, agog, as she performed oral sex on both of them. She was saved from further service by the arrival back at the University. Somehow she managed to elude them both and make her way back to the dorms.

Vickie found everything dull and gray. She had missed nothing of import in school, and her grades were fully recoverable. But she had trouble caring. Her sore body was testament to her real life experience. But her mind was different. She felt dirty and unclean. She knew other people felt that way about her, too. She found she could not look at black people the same way she had before. Rob never came around anymore. And she knew he was spreading tales about her, from the way friends and acquaintances looked at her. She tried, as best she could, to get on with her life.

Medi turned had watched Vickie’s performance with that black man slamming his rod up her white ass while she licked and sucked black pussy. He decided he would start with money and see where it went from there. He really wasn’t in that much need of money, but these American’s were so stupid, and the Arab world was destined to drain them anyway, so why not get her into the practice.

Looking through the DVD yet again, he would occasionally freeze the video stream and make screen prints of particularly juicy scenes. Transferring four of them to a blank DVD, he added a .TXT file. In it, he wondering if Vickie’s parents or family would find them interesting. He instructed her to go onto one of the chat services at 6 PM today. He uploaded the file to one of his blind servers and then posted an e-mail to her GOTMAIL address, with the return mail flag.

Vickie continued through her dull gray day. Trying to work up energy, she failed. She reverted to old habits. One of them was to check her GOTMAIL account. It had been several days. There was a fair amount of mail. She sorted by author. It only took a few minutes to read them and post some replies. She trashed the obvious Spam, which left three emails. One of those held a virus. The second was another Spam.

She opened the last one. It had two attachments. Somewhat puzzled, she opened the README.TXT file. It asked what her family would think of the other attachments. Time stopped. She could not catch her breath. Struggling to get air into her lungs, hands trembling, she double clicked on the second file. There were five images. Four of them were photos, grainy and poor lighting. A white girl was in each of them. The first was of her standing in a profile shot, naked. The second was of someone, probably her, kneeling, with her face in a black woman’s crotch. The third showed her on the bed, with a large black cock entering her ass. And the last showed a white woman, on the bed, with a black woman seating on her face and a black man with his cock up her ass.

Vickie’s vision grayed out and she slumped back in her chair. A low keening sound started inside her. It built to a low sob. At some level she could feel herself biting her lip and her fingernails digging into the palm of her hands. And she could hear someone crying bitterly. After a while, tears still streaming down her face, she was able to focus her eyes and get control of herself. Blinking back her tears, she looked at the screen again. There was another message. It instructed her to go onto BPM and message TOP6996 at 6 PM today. She looked at the clock. It was a little after 3 PM.

The next 170 minutes or so were studies in similarity in the two protagonists. Vickie kept pacing the room, looking at the clock. She willed it to slow down or speed up or do something. She felt jagged, reacting sharply to every sound, every motion, every sight. She thought through her options, repeatedly, looking for a way out. She wanted a way which would let her life return to normal, to let her be in school, to be a normal person, to have no fear. It all depended on what this TOP6996 wanted. She really didn’t like the sounds of his moniker.

Medi, too, was keenly aware of the clock. He had butterflies, which surprised him. He had become an old hand at degrading these American bitches. But he was trying something different, and really had no idea how it would turn out. He had a vague plan, but he would have to play it out. His member became hard. He was tempted to stroke himself, but he wasn’t completely sure if he would be using it on her tonight or not. So he practiced abstinence, something he had largely forgotten as he pillaged his way through these college coeds. And then it was time.

Vickie felt sick fear. Double clicking on BPM’s logo, she did a query for TOP6996. She rubbed her sweaty hands on her jeans. After the third search, she found him. She was disappointed that he, she wondered why it had to be a he, was there. She wondered how this was supposed to start. Would he start it?

After a minute or so, THATGIRL3884 was pinging him. He waited. Although it was probably her, it might not be. He gave his manhood a quick little stroke. He was so close to cumming, but he wanted to do it in this stupid American bitch. He wanted to fuck her in the worst way. No games this time.

Her mouth dry, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She considered logging off, but her eyes were drawn to the pictures. She finally broke the cyber silence. You wanted me to log in?

He needed to be sure it was her. What is your real name?

She delayed, knowing that she was surrendering at least part of her freedom. But there wasn’t any point in trying to be anonymous. Vickie.

But he wanted to pin her down. Do you have a last name?

She didn’t want to give it, to continue to react to his demands, but she had no choice. Jackson.

He already knew all of this, but it was important to establish dominance. He giggled. He had her obeying him and he wasn’t even there. He began the job of breaking her. Did you like the pictures?

He had a lot of nerve. She was breathing heavily. She really didn’t know what to say. Guess so. Maybe she could convince him there wasn’t anything to it and he would leave her alone.

He knew she was trying to play it cool. But he continued. He played the family card. Would you like your mother or father to see them?

She knew they would be horrified and hurt. But she needed to brave this out. Doesn’t matter to me.

He admired her courage when she feigned indifference. He pressed further. They live at 126 Tower Bridge, right? and their names are Dwight and Renee Jackson. so I should just send the pictures to them same day? He was perfectly willing to carry through with the threat. He wondered if she would capitulate. His cock was really throbbing now.

But he knew too much. He knew her parents names and where they lived. He threatened to send the pictures to them, today. She was defeated, on this point. But there might still be some opportunity to end this without too much damage. No - Wait!!!!

He came back, quickly. Why not - if you don’t care? He knew he had her hooked.

It was time to find out what this was going to cost. What do you want? She was wondering if this was going to cost money. She was even prepared to pay in the woman’s oldest coin, if it came to it. After all, she had already performed sex with total strangers, something she thought she would have never have done. Could it be any worse?

He wanted everything, but he would get to all of that later. Are you offering something?

She felt totally lost. Yes.

And she said she was. In spite of his determination to not play games, he found he was doing it. What? He stroked his jeans and knew he was almost ready to cum.

But she was going to make him make the first move. She knew she had to try and strike a bargain. What is it that you want from me?

She still wouldn’t make the next move. He repeated his question. What are you offering?

He still wouldn’t bite. Maybe he wanted money. Money?

She finally moved further down the path. She was offering money. He really didn’t care that much about it. His allowance made him pretty independent as it was. He would soon have everything she had anyway. How much?

So they could strike a deal. But she was a little nervous about this part. After her weekend on the wild side, she didn’t have a lot left. If he really pressed her, she would have to make up some story to get more from her parents. She decided to low ball it just a little. I have $1000 in my checking account. She figured she would have some time to get more if she needed it.

She was probably lying, but it didn’t matter. Do you have Paybill? If she didn’t, he would have to think of some other means of draining her.

This burst the little bubble of hope that she had as she tried to steer to conversation. It turned out she did have such an account. Yes.

Post your money to TOP6996. You have 10 minutes. He had set up that account on ILAKE to buy and sell stuff. But this was going to be an unexpected bonus. He touched himself again, and began to breath in a ragged manner. He wanted his cock in her so much he almost ordered her over to see him then and there. But he wanted more that from her.

She hadn’t expected cyber extortion, but, this was the way it was. But she needed to be sure of what she was buying. And then you will give me everything you have on me?

The stupid bitch was still trying to negotiate with him. She wanted to know if he would give her the material she had on him. But he knew he needed to be firm here. Your time is running out. His cock was throbbing so hard, he stroked it again. He loved this. Unable to resist any longer, he called up some the video of her. Setting back, he unzipped his pants and began to stroke himself. He felt such intense pleasure as the black man reamed her ass. And then he could contain himself no longer and spewed his seed in his hand.

She gritted her teeth, wishing she had more control over this situation. She left a window open to BPM. Finally digging up her password, she logged on to PAYBILL. She added $1000 to her account, using her ATM card, pretty much wiping herself out. Within a few seconds she got a message that the funds had been transferred. She pulled up the BPM screen and waited. She had no idea how long it would take. She gritted her teeth. She transferred $1000 to TOP6996. She felt an empty feeling. She felt utterly powerless, but hoped this would end the episode. With just a little spin, she could get her parents to recoup her losses.

Within the 10 minute period he had given her, he received a message from PAYBILL. Double clicking on it, he discovered he was $1000 richer. He reopened the other window. Transaction complete - $1000 transferred.

She heard the ping and looked at his message. The funds had been transferred. I did my part. Time to do your part - give me the material. He did not send anything back. Her wildest hope was that he was getting it ready.

He waited for about a minute before replying. You failed to ask nicely. You will be punished for your lack of respect. yYu need to atone for your lack of respect.

She was crushed. She felt like she was ready to piss in her jeans. She didn’t have very much more money. I am very sorry if iIoffended you. Please accept my most sincere apologies.

He felt his manhood begin to stir again. He was going to drain this stupid American bitch of everything she had. I accept your apology. You still need to atone for your lack of respect.

He still wanted to exact revenge on her. She was almost crying. But I don’t have very much mroe money. She was biting her lip now. She realized her mistake almost as soon as she sent the message. She owned up to having not given him all her money.

You wicked bitch. You told me you had given me all your money. You will be punished for lying to me. He could almost see her on her knees begging to him as he read her next e-mail.

I am extremely sorry. I am sending it now. Please forgive me. I am so sorry. Without waiting for a response, she entered PAYBILL again and transferred another $734.67, effectively emptying her checking account. Except for a few hundred in a savings account back home, she had nothing left. Needing to go to the bathroom very badly, she sat and waited.

He was not surprised when she sent him more money. The first payment had been too round, unlike the $734.67 in the second payment. He chortled, knowing he had her. Contact me in exactly 48 hours. You are required to post $2000 to my account. Also, you will be punished for your act of rebellion. With that, he broke the connection. Medi pushed back from his PC, feeling well and truly satisfied. While he really didn’t need the $1700 or so, it was nice. And he could imagine the panic the stupid bitch was in. He decided he would drain her of everything she could come up with. Eventually, of course, the pictures would go to her family, but that could wait for awhile. In the meantime, he would have to consider what her punishment would have to be. It would need to be something exotic. It would be something to savor.

Vickie was shaking, needing to go to the bathroom, badly. On rubbery legs, she staggered to the women’s bathroom. After voiding herself, she stopped in front of the mirror. Looking back at her was a sweating, pasty faced brunette. She lurched back to her room, feeling nauseous. She also felt dirty, used, helpless. While her weekend had been fun, this was, somehow, more real. How was she going to get another $2000? And would that be enough to satisfy him? What choices did she have?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Medi did not obsess on Vickie over the next two days. But he attended to some details concerning her. He visited her dorm. It was coed, so wandering of the halls caused no stir. He was just one more student hanging around. He found a secluded terminal port in the second wing of her dorm, two floors down from her room. He was able to see her window. He tested it by calling her number, pretending to look for some guy. While she was on the phone, he was able to see her clearly. This was the same when she was on her PC. He would be able to watch her as well as get over to her room in a short time. After that, he got one with his life. That included class work, which was always demanding.

Vickie had to work fast to come up with such a large sum of money. The first thing she did was to max out her VISA card, netting $500. Hitting up her friends, one on one, she came up with another $300. She checked into selling some of her text books, but the book store wouldn’t be in that mode until closer to the end of the Quarter.

Somewhere she got the idea of hitting the pawn shops. When she went into the first one, it was kind of creepy. The shop had a musty smell, an oder of decay, of dashed dreams. The man offered her $50 for her $600 mountain bike. She fled. She more carefully planned the visit to the next shop, having seen the looks the first proprietor had given her. She slipped into some small, tight cutoffs, a tight T-shirt, making sure there was lots of bare mid-riff, even though it was getting a little chilly. She couldn’t bring herself to go bra-less. Taking her mountain bike to the second shop, she played up to the middle aged Hispanic. Leaning forward she let him get a glimpse down her T-shirt. And she made sure to drop something and bend over to pick it up, facing directly away from him. She got $100 for the bike. At another shop she accidently fell against the old man, driving one of her breasts into his arm. That got her $100 for the TV, which was almost as much as she had paid for it new. At yet another store, sans bra, she gave the guy a good look down her shirt. He offered her $100 for her stereo. She murmured she needed more. He offered her another $100 if she would go in the back room with him for a little while. She promised she would be back with more stuff and they could talk about it then, getting an additional $50 with her sleaziest smile. In defeat, she called her parents with a tale of additional money needed for an extra class she wanted to take. In the end, she had the $2000 in her checking account.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

An hour before their rendezvous, Medi settled down in his niche. Plugging his laptop in, he logged onto BPM. Looking out the window, he finally saw her set down at the student desk. Although he was unable to see more than her head, Vickie sat at her PC, absently rubbing her hands on the front of her jeans.

A couple of minutes before the appointed time, she logged onto BPM, having trouble with her password. Her hands were shaking and she couldn’t find the right keys. She didn’t know what to do next.

Medi saw THATGIRL3884 show up on the “friends” list. He waited. His rod was hard. He double clicked. His eyes were fixed on her as he began typing. Do you have the money?

She jumped when her computer chirped. She sighed with regret. What if he wanted more money next time? What would she be able to do to raise any more? Yes.

He could see her setting down. He was curious as to what the time-lag would be from her machine through some distant server and back to him, just a few dozen yards away. When she began typing, the words appeared on the screen almost as soon as she typed. She had the money. Of course the stupid bitch did. Make the transfer, now!

It figured that he wanted the money transferred to the same account. She opened PayBill and made the transfer. She felt a sick fear as the progress bar marched across the screen. As it completed she hoped he wanted no more money. Transfer complete. She waited for him to respond. She pictured him, glued to his PC, waiting for some status information. She hoped it wouldn’t take too long.

And then she messaged that it was complete. He opened his PayBill home page and waited. A short time later it confirmed he was $2000 richer. Transfer confirmed. He was looking across the way at her. He had made sure, earlier, that anyone looking into his window saw only darkness. He watched as she ran her fingers through her hair. She finally messaged him, wanting to know what else there was.

Vickie waited to see what would happen next. But he didn’t respond. She wondered if he were still on the net. She felt butterflies in her stomach. Unable to stand it any longer, she broke the cyber silence. Now what?

It was hard for him to type as he stroked his manhood with one hand. Are you ready for your punishment? He was almost giggling.

There was almost no delay in his reply to her. She felt sickness in her stomach. But she was powerless. Will it physically hurt me?

He could hardly wait to take possession of her. He wasn’t about to start bargaining with her now. It would break down the rhythm they were establishing. Go down to the front desk and ask for a package. Bring it back to your room. If you disobey, I will know it! He didn’t wait for her response. Getting up, himself, he walked quickly to the stair well and made his way down to the lobby just as the elevator door opened.

He was threatening her if she didn’t do what he wanted. His directive surprised her. Standing up, her legs felt wobbly. Slipping into some sandals, she lurched out of the room, almost forgetting her key. She rode the elevator down from the fourth floor to the lobby and stepped nervously to the main desk. It was being staffed by a Kenyan exchange student. She showed him her ID and asked if a package had come in. He went in back and returned with a shoe-box sized Barbie pink box. In black letters, it proclaimed ADULT TOYS. Her face turned scarlet.

He watched the well built brunette, clad in hip hugger jeans and sleeveless T-shirt. It was almost too much to bear to see her look of shock and dismay as the student behind the desk openly handed her the package he had delivered earlier in the day. As she furtively concealed the package, he returned to the stairwell to the second floor. He returned to his position just in time to see her appear, once again, near her window. He stroked his manhood again.

Playing it straight, she sat down at the computer. I have the package. Now what?

He watched her her computer message appear on the screen. Open it. She disappeared from view. He had to imagine the look on her face. Was it recognition or puzzlement. She would know what they were for in a couple of minutes.

She found a pair of sizzors and cut the bands. Her hands were trembling as she opened the box. Inside was a funny looking hood, a red rubber ball with a strap, and handcuffs. She had no idea what this was about. It looked kinky and sick. She didn’t like it very much. What else could she do? It’s open.

When he saw her set back down at her desk he had to resisted messaging her directly, or she would have known he was observing her. Now came the fun part, or the risky part. Unlock your door. Tell me when you have done that.

This was worse than she thought. Somehow, actually meeting him seemed worse than the cyber dialog she had been engaged in. It somehow made this all seem real, no longer a game. She did as she was told. Her legs were jelly. Done.
Now for the tricky steps. She might still balk, but he was feeling more certain of this now. Take the ball gag and put it on. The ball goes in your mouth. The staps fasten behind your head.

She found out that the funny ball was a gag. She eyed it for a minute. Sighing, she picked it up and stuffed it into her mouth. It tasted like rubber, unpleasant, and it was awfully big, completely filling her mouth. Fortunately, she was able to breath through her nose. Already she could feel saliva building up in her mouth. She could not resist looking in the mirror. Staring back at her was a frightened looking brunette with a red gag stuck in her mouth and black leather straps holding it in place. Done.

He watched her turn aside and then she was holding it. She put it in her mouth two times before deciding that was as good as it got. She got up from her chair for a moment. He wondered what she had done. But there she was back in her chair. She tugged the straps on, securing it to her head. Her facial expressions were reduced to what she could do with her eyes. And then she was ready for the next step. Take off everything you are wearing, including clothes, jewelry, etc. Leave only the gag on. He watched her stand up. Partially out of sight, her T-shirt came off. Out of sight for a longer period, and then she was setting back down, asking what was next.

It wasn’t hard to imagine that he wanted her clothes off. She considered closing the blinds. Shrugging, she shucked her T-shirt, which momentarily caught in the straps for the gag. She quickly stripped off her bra, jeans and panties. She left them where they lay on the floor. She sat back down. It was almost funny that her skin stuck to the chair. Done.

Now to finish this off. Cuff one of your hands. He watched her lean backward, exposing her pert young breasts.

She felt totally vulnerable. She was drooling down her chin. She cuffed her right wrist. The metal was cool, harsh and unyielding. With the other cuff dangling open, she sat back down. It swung out and smacked hard against her keyboard. She brought it under control. Done.

He was becoming very turned on by all of this. This was more fun than simply paying some stupid American bitch to fuck him. After you acknowledge the next instruction, you will put the hood on and zip it up. Then you will slip the other cuff through the radiator and cuff your other hand. Then I will come see you. Do you understand?

She could see where the chain could fit around a pipe. She sat for a moment, willing herself to break the connection, but she couldn’t. She was in too deep. Yes. Picking up the hood, she worked the zipper on the backside of the hood. She memorized where the radiator was. Fortunately, it was not on. Fitting the hood over her head, she discovered it had zippers over the eyes and the mouth. They were zipped shut. She left them that way and put the hood on. The world went black. She adjusted it until she could breath through the nose slits. The free cuff smacked her in the head again. Trying to blink away the dark, she zipped up the back of the hood, some of her hair trailing out from underneath on the backside. Feeling forward, she found the radiator. On feel alone, she threaded the second cuff through the pipes and snapped the cuff shut over her wrist.

He watched as she stood up, her naked breasts visible to anyone looking in the window. He surmised she had picked up the hood. As she began enslaving herself, he gathered up his stuff. He snapped his laptop shut and put it in the tote back. He looked around the study alcove, making sure he had missed nothing. With that, he stepped out and closed the door. He had to resist the urge to sprint. Taking care, he took the stairs to the lobby and over to Vickie’s elevator. Once on her floor, he looked around. No one was there to see him walk down the carpeted hallway to her door. He paused for a moment, listening. He could hear nothing inside.

With sudden awareness, she realized that she was vulnerable, unable to move, unable to signal for help. If he left her hear, she might not be discovered for a long time. And then her ears started straining, trying to hear. And then she was trying to decide if the sounds were real. And the damned drool continued to ooze out around the gag. She jumped several times as she imagined she could hear someone in the room. Her skin was crawling as she imagined she was about to be touched.

His cock was throbbing as he tested the door. There was no resistance as the handle turned. The door swung open and he could see her naked back and ass, hunched over. It was odd to see her head covered with the leather hood. Her sightless head was turned toward him, obviously having heard his entry. He looked up and down the hall, and then stepped inside. He soundlessly closed the door. He could hear her faint mews as she tried to make a sound. He ignored her as he crossed to the windows, lowering the blinds.

Her head had snapped around when she heard the unmistakably loud snick of the door unlatching and the almost imperceptible creak as the well oiled hinges opened. There was a draft on her naked skin as the door closed. She tried to cry as she heard someone close the blinds. Someone could have seen her naked! Vickie tried to move, tried to see, tried to understand what was happening. She could see nothing except the blackness of the hood. Her drool continued to ooze down her chin, and she struggled to keep her nostrils open, her only lifeline to air. Her skin was crawling and she could feel sweat beginning to drip from her armpits.

At his loud sounds, Medi saw her cringe and try to move away from him. But all she could do was to move up against the radiator, hugging it. Try as she might, her bare, white, vulnerable ass was still toward him. Gazing down at her, he could see the slit which proclaimed her ass and, further down, her pussy. He grinned.

Medi could feel lust gorging up in him. There was no reason to deny it. He kicked out of his tennis shoes. She had tried to turn her head but couldn’t. He unzipped his jeans, and pulled down his briefs, his uncut brown manhood spring free, pointing to her firm white flesh. He opened his bag, his cock bouncing with each move. Opening the K&E tube, he squirted some into his hand and rubbed it on his quivering cock. Breathing hard, he leaned forward, and planted his knee in the bound girl’s back, forcing her down over the radiator. As she tried to kick and move, he stepped on one of her feet, pinning her.

Mercifully, it was off, or she would have been burned. Terror welled up in her as she felt her legs being pried apart. She began to sob and call out. Even to her ears her sounds were terribly muted. This was a long way from a cyber game. This was real. And he had never promised not to hurt her.

To the tune of her muffled sounds he proceeded to slather up her cheeks, digging his finger into her. She tried to cry and jump away from him.

When something slimy touched her ass, being spread into her crack, her terror intensified. Something rough forced its way up her hole. She tried to wail as she suddenly understood, detesting the idea of anal sex, an act she had only done a couple of times, never enjoying it.

He giggled as he stepped between her legs, letting his meat touch her pale white ass. The room rang with the hard smack his hand on her bare, unprotected ass. A nice red mark clearly showed his hand print. Knowing she was helpless, he reached down and forced her clinched buttocks apart. Pinching her hard, he smacked her again. He pushed his head against her hole as she whimpered. She jumped, trying to evade him.

She tried to relax as he pried her buttocks apart, but she was too terrified to cooperate. She could feel her nose starting to run, impeding her ability to breath, and she was afraid she might suffocate. She concentrated on her breathing as she felt his cock press against her pain hole.

Lining himself up, he pushed his head against her crease. Her cool skin felt so smooth. Almost slipping past her, he used one hand to steady his rod and started pushing against her. He kneaded her ass before striking her again. As she relaxed from it, he drove his head into her.

When he stabbed her again and she groaned at the pain. But he kept pushing and she fought her body’s reflex action to expel this painful object. This invasion seemed to go on forever. She found that, as long as she concentrated on breathing, it wasn’t so bad. She wondered how deep he would go and whether he would cause her permanent harm.

He ignored her muffled groan as his pushed. It fascinated him how they acted as his cock disappeared inside their bodies. As some point she moaned again and relaxed, surrendering to him. And then he was inside, pushing his hairy belly against her smooth white skin. Her ass was so tight, he wondered if her ass had been virgin. He would have to ask her some time. That thought excited him so much he almost came right there. Gripping her hips, he noticed his hands were sweaty. He started pumping her hard, as a man should take a stupid woman. In seven strokes he could hold back no more and he began to empty himself into her. He slammed her hard, nearly lifting her feet off the floor. He continued to rock in and out as the powerful love spasms racked him.

When his whole body went rigid, she was forced harshly forward, her head wedged painfully against the brick wall of her dorm room. She grimaced as her feet came off the floor and then he was doing his little moves, signaling that he was pumping his sperm into her. She remained inert, breathing hard, as he finished. And then, still inside her, he leaned forward, laying on her back, both of them slick with the sweat of their labors

Medi enjoyed her ragged breathing, her tense muscles, her palpable fear. He could feel his cock softening. He continued to lean against her until he was too soft to stay in. With that he rocked back and his limp snake slithered out of her. Standing up, the room rocked for a second. He looked down at her and saw, with satisfaction, the gaping wound of her ass, the hole he had made. He fumbled around for his bag.

When he softened, the pressure in her anus had lessened. And the he pushed off of her, and she felt an incredible void. Still laying on her stomach, she felt fluids beginning to run down her leg. The smell was unpleasant. And then he was moving around, and then he sat on her waist, driving her down into the metal radiator again. She had no idea what was going to happen next. Not knowing triggered a new round of whimpering, and she tried to keep her nostril’s clear for breathing.

He steadied himself on his human cushion. He ignored her groans. Putting an ink cartridge into the pen he, he turned it on. They both jumped at the high pitched whine. Patting her right cheek, he touched her with the needle. She jumped with the sharp pain and tried to move under him. But he had her firmly pinned to the radiator. And her hands were tethered to the radiator. At some level he guessed that the pain she was feeling was intense. Compensating for her movements, he continued to work. Writing upside down in a language which is not native is difficult. She was sobbing again and he smacked her left cheek hard. Getting the hint, she stopped moving around. Working as best he could, he used her as a living canvas. Only when he was done did he stop. He got up, pushing off the unfortunate girl. He stepped back to admire his pen work. An image was beyond him, but simple text was fine: “JUMP ME - HUMP ME - DUMP ME”. He could feel his cock harden again and he knew he wasn’t done with her yet.

She was weeping bitter tears. She was bound, unable to escape. She could not see her tormentor. And all she could do was make sounds no one could hear. Her violated ass hole was throbbing. And the burning pain on her cheek was just beginning to abate. There was more noise behind her. Then he forced her legs apart and pressed against her pussy. She sobbed, hoping he was using a rubber. What if she caught something or got knocked up or both? She noted there was a world of difference between being ass fucked and pussy fucked. Her body quickly softened and he entered her. She heard his animal grunts and moans as he began pumping her. This actually felt so good that she forgot the pain on her ass and in her ass and moved with him. She felt him pick up the pace and intensity. She knew he was going fill her with his sperm. She still had no idea who he was. And then she was swept away with an incredibly intense series of orgasms. She pushed frantically back against him, wanting him to continue forever. But, like all men, he softened and eventually stopped. She was breathing hard, wanting more, amazed that she was acting the part of a wanton whore, instead of a rape victim.

Because he had been sated earlier, it had taken a little while longer than it usually did. He had unloaded his seed of Ali into her. From her immediate and strong pushes, he knew his augmented sperm had struck home. He also knew that, at two weeks after her last exposure, his Arab sperm were racing straight to her unprotected and very fertile eggs. In nine months she would give birth to another of his bastards. Invigorated, he immediately pulled out of her.

Still gasping from those incredible orgasms, she realized she could hear the high pitched whine. She tried to move away from him, as she was rolled onto her back. In this position, her body bent in untoward directions. He was setting on her chest, crushing her. She began crying again, in fear of the pain. And then it came, on her stomach this time. The high pitched whine went on, unabated. The white hot pain crawled over her stomach. When she was occasionally more rational, she tried to figure out what he was doing to her. The radiator fins dug into her naked back. Her ass, inside and out, throbbed. And she could feel fluids leaking out of both of her lower holes now. And she could barely breath. And then the sound stopped. She froze, wondering if it were over. And then she felt him stand up. She tried to kick him, and missed. Who was this bastard and what had he done to her? And was hiding what she had done from her family really worth it? She sobbed, bitterly, caught up in mistakes she had made over the last several weeks.

He admired his latest work. There, on her white belly, surrounded by red, inflamed flesh, was yet another of his masterpieces. GONE BLACK AND NEVER GOING BACK BECAUSE SIZE MATTERS was in her flesh now. She would be able to hide the two tattoos unless she wore jeans that were cut too low. Unfortunately, the words would at least partially show if she hand just panties on.

Rolling over on her back, it was more comfortable, although now she had to protect her throbbing stomach. She could hear him moving around in her dorm room. She wondered, more dully now, if he was stealing stuff. She thought, bitterly, that she had little left to steal. He already had most everything she had of any value. How long had this been going on? Would he stop or would he keep doing things to her? She began to sob again, threatening to cut her air supply off.

Ignoring her, he put the pin away and pulled out the video cam. He walked to her computer and hooked it up to her PC and put it firmly on top of her monitor. He popped the CD into her drive and downloaded the software drives. He would be able to remotely log in as he chose. The little camera, equipped with an electronic aperture, rather than a mechanical gimbal, would allow him to slew it and zoom without anyone noticing. Once he was complete, he walked back over to the helpless white bitch. She had rolled back over onto her stomach. Taking his camera, he took some digital shots of her. He forced the violently protesting girl onto her back, slapping her ass hard to show he meant it. He took some more pictures of her. After putting his camera away, he turned to her again. Taking his cock in hand, he pointed it at her. Relaxing his lower muscles, he liberated a yellow stream, splashing it over her stomach and chest. He giggled again as she jumped and tried to avoid his piss, turning over. He played it over the rest of her, including a healthy dose over her hood.

Vickie could not believe what was happening to her. Would this ever end? What else was he going to do to her? And then she heard an electronically generated voice asking her if she could hear him. She nodded, the only communication she could manage. And then the voice was asking her if she would obey him if she were uncuffed. She realized she would promise anything to get out of this fix. She nodded even more vigorously than before. And then he was telling her that he was going to uncuff her, but she was not to move or get up for two minutes. She nodded again. She heard him come up behind her and take one of her wrists. The pinching momentarily increased and then lessened. She felt so relieved this was nearly over. And then her wrist was entirely free. He held onto her for several more seconds, and she remained silent and unmoving. And then she heard him walking to the door. She started counting backward from 120. At 103 her door opened. At 99 it closed. At 88 she heard his faint footsteps leaving. She fought back the urge to stand up. At 35 she flexed her aching legs. At 12 she wriggled her hands. And 0 she slid from the radiator sat in a cold puddle on the floor.

Vickie’s body was screaming in pain as she moved around, trying to restore circulation. With numb fingers, she fought with the zipper on the hood and finally got the hated thing off. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the lights. Looking about wildly, she assured herself he was no longer there. And then the throbbing on her stomach and ass reminded her he had done something to her. She look down at her naked stomach. To her horror she saw crude words. They were upside down and she could not quite read them. Gingerly getting to her feet, trembling with fatigue and fear, she staggered to the mirror. The letting was now right-side up but reversed. Grabbing the mirror from the sink she positioned it so she could read it. She groaned at the “GONE BLACK AND NEVER GOING BACK.” Rotating the mirror, she found the lettering on her ass. “JUMP ME - HUMP ME - DUMP ME.” She tried rubbing the throbbing skin, but the black letters remained.

Sobbing yet again, she gathered up a robe, towel, dousse bag, soap and shampoo and staggered to the woman’s restroom on her floor. She was terrified someone would see her in her present state. But no one did. And she scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, trying to get the stench of his piss out of her hair and his cum out of her ass and pussy. She was able to cleanse herself of everything, except for the lettering on her ass and stomach. They were tattoos!

Finally back in her room, the exhausted white girl collapsed on her bed. Falling into an exhausted sleep, she was tormented by wildly erotic dreams she could not escape from. In her sleep, she massaged her pussy. She knew she was searching for something she had lost, but could not find it.

Vickie awoke in the early hours of the morning. It was still dark outside. In a daze, she sat up, realizing she was still clad in her pink terry-cloth robe. As her brain began to process more information, she became aware of a rawness up her ass, and some soreness in her pussy. But it was the tenderness on her stomach and left cheek which brought back all which had happened to her. And then the stiffness in her arms and legs, and crickety back all made sense. She fell into a deep despair at what she had allowed him to do to her. Her eyes took in the hated hood and gag laying on the floor and she looked at her wrists. There were mild bruises from the cuffs thrown carelessly on the desk.

Eyes still blinking, she noticed something setting atop her PC. It looked like a metal snake. As she focused on it, she realized it must be some kind of camera. And then she saw the sign, warning her to leave it alone. She burst into tears again, horribly aware of her predicament. Dreading what she might find, she logged on, to find she had mail. She ignored the others and opened the one from TOP6996. Message me at noon. She began crying, yet again. Would he never leave her alone? She curled up in a ball, waiting for the sun to light the world. At some point she realized she had been asleep. Feeling an emptiness in her stomach, she made her way down to the cafeteria. She was mindful of the clock, grateful it was the weekend.

Vickie came back from eating, with a queasy stomach. After a short time she dashed to the Woman’s Room and upchucked her breakfast. Head throbbing, vision grayed out, she washed her face and went back to her room. She shivered from the cold. She sat on her bed until it was time to see what he wanted.

Medi made sure to be back at his apartment well before the appointed time. He logged through to her computer and activated the camera. While the light was a little dim and the fishbowl image was a little hard to follow, he was satisfied with the connection. Kicking in the imaging software package, he was able to translate the image into a flat image. With that, he was able to see the entire room. He could see a rumpled bed. There were various articles of clothing scattered about, and a robe tossed on the bed. She seemed to be setting on her bed, knees drawn up to her chest, rocking back and forth. He could not see her face as it was hidden by her tangled hair.

Medi watched as she went over to the computer. Zooming back as far as he could, he was able to capture her face and upper body. It was amazing to see her type, and then the message pop up on his screen, informing him she was present. He grinned to himself. It was time to toy with the food some more. I trust you are recovered from last night?

After his last punishment, she did not want to go through anything like that again. Yes. What else could she say?

He continued typing. I will be harsh with you the next time you disobey me. do you understand? The camera recorded the panicked look on her face. He waited until she typed in that she understood before continuing. Show me your tatoos.

She had no idea what this lunatic would do next. When she saw the command, her heart sank. Glancing nervously at the curtains, she closed them. There was no command to reopen the blinds. At that point she knew the camera was active, although she could see no outward sign of it. When She stood up and wiggled out of her jeans, letting her white cotton panties go with them. She saw that he wanted her top off as well. With no shame allowed, she pulled off her T-shirt and her exercise bra. She was told to turn around, slowly, which she did. She felt utterly humiliated. And she didn’t even know who was doing this to her. He messaged that she was to never do anything to her tattoos. She didn’t know what she could do. She shrugged and nodded.

Now she was looking at the camera, having figured it out. He was recording this at 60 frames/second. He watched as she stripped from the waist down. He got a close up of her naked pussy. Take the top off. After a few seconds she was standing there, totally naked. He got a close up of her face. Turn around. And she shuffled in a 360, finally facing him again. If you ever do anything to those tatoos, you will be severely punished. He saw her nod. His cock was getting hard again. It was so much fun remotely controlling her. But it was time for business. Your next payment is $1000. It is due in seven days.

She groaned, knowing that was impossible, without telling her family what was happening. Naked, she sat back down at the keyboard. I mean no disrespect, sir. I don’t have any more money. Honest. She was throwing herself on his dubious mercy.

He reckoned that was probably true, but he didn’t care. So get some more. He could see her teeth chattering, either from cold or from despair.

He didn’t care. I don’t know where to get anymore. I’m broke. She was beginning to shiver from the cold.

So why do I care. Get a job.

With all respect, sir. I would need time to find one. And I need to go to school too.

His cock was rigid now. He needed relief. He stroked himself several times, feeling the need to stick it in something or someone. What do I care about your school. Do you want me to find you a job?

There had been a long pause. She tried to unstick herself from her chair. She had a pretty good idea what he hand in mind. What kind of a job.

Perhaps you will have other offers. But this job is the same kind of stuff you been doing lately, only you get paid for it. Interested? He was rubbing himself hard, wondering if she would go for it. He really didn’t care. If she refused, he would send the pictures, including the tattoos, to her family. He could see the agony on her face.

And he shamed her by telling her it was more of the same as she had been doing. She cringed at the thought of prostitution. What other choice did she have. Perspiration had broken out on her forehead. Yes. She felt as if her life had changed forever.

This part was easy. He had used College Escorts a few times before getting to know the operator, Vince. Medi had told him knew girls interested in working, and had gotten a number to call. Call 555-6969. Ask for Vince. And don’t be late with your next payment. $1000 in seven days. Have a nice day. :-) He picked up his own phone.

And then the connection was broken. There she had it. Call the guy and work something out, or face her family. She was in tears again. Was this worth it? She could see no way out of this. It was sure to ruin her as soon as someone found out. Drying her tears she reached for the phone. Even as she dialed the number, she was wondering what she was going to say. After all, she didn’t even know who had referred her. After several rings, a man answered the phone. She had to swallow several times before she could make a sound. “Um, I was trying to get hold of Vince.”

“Yah? Who wants to talk to him?”

She briefly debated whether or not to give her real name. “Um, my name is Vickie.” She wasn’t sure how much this person knew.

“Well, I don’t know any Vickie. What do you want?”

Vickie closed her eyes, wishing this would all go away. “Well, I was wondering about a job.” She suddenly realized she was standing there, naked, talking to someone she didn’t know, referred by someone she had never seen, for a job she didn’t know much about.

“Yah. What do you do?”

She was in a panic. What was she supposed to say. “Look, some guy I know told me you might have a job for me. Did I call the right number?”

“Are you some kind of cop, or something?”

A cop? “No. Of course not. Why would I be?” This must be something not quite legal. Or maybe it was a lot illegal.

“Well, you can never tell. Tell me about yourself.”

That was very odd. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Come on girl. How experienced are you? How old are you? Are you white or blonde? Are you pretty? Do you have big tits? Are you straight or kinky? Do you like men or girls, or what?”

This confirmed her suspicion about the line of work she was signing up for. She told him she was kind of new at this, that she was 19, white, brunette. She thought she was pretty enough with smallish breasts. She thought she was pretty straight, and mostly liked men. But she thought to herself that her time with the black woman had been more fun than she had thought it would.

“Ah. Sounds like a fresh one. I might be able to use you. Maybe I should take a look at you. Want to come around?”

She agreed, and got directions. She arranged to meet in in two hours. She didn’t feel like she could ask anyone to drive her there. Knowing what she was probably in for, she chose what she would wear. She selected black bikini briefs and slipped into them. Looking in the mirror, she could see both tattoos. She slipped tight white pants on, pulling the low waist band as high as she could. The tattoos were just hidden. Why had he made them so high? She followed with a thin hot pink sweater, with a modest neckline. She could feel her breasts jiggling, unfettered. She brushed out her hair, and applied moderate makeup. Slipping on a pair of sandals and a denim jacket, she headed out.

The walk was further than she had imagined. Walking downtown, she found the street and continued out, toward the Interstate. The buildings transitioned from shops and stores to a mixture of commercial and light industrial. The landscape became more drab and run-down. Not all of the buildings had numbers on them. And she actually walked past the address, before narrowing it down. The brick building had seen better days. The windows were dirty. The faded sign, REDSTONE INDUSTRIES, was in danger of falling from the wall.

Catching her breath, Vickie tested the door. It was locked. A small sign, RING BELL FOR SERVICE, had gone unnoticed. Mentally shrugging, she pushed the bell. Hearing nothing, she tried again. Still hearing nothing, she stood there, not knowing what to do. Just as she was about to turn on her heel, the door began to open. She almost jumped out of her skin.

A middle aged round man, cigarette dangling from his fat lips, looked her over. She quickly took in his receding black hair, his heavy growth of beard, and his pot belly. He, in turn, was looking over his glasses, drinking her in. “Is there something I can do for you Miss?”

At least he was polite. She could see the food stain on the front of his shirt. “Yes, well. Are you Vince?” He nodded. “I called you about a job a little while ago and you said to come over.” She laughed nervously. “Well, here I am.”

He smiled broadly and motioned her to come in. She stepped in ahead of him, trying to avoid his touching hands, and was greeted with the smell of cigarette smoke. The office was a collection of mismatched furniture. His desk was a disorderly pile of papers and an ash tray. His voice was gravely. “What did you say your name was, again?”

She brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. “Vickie.” He was setting down in a lopsided chair. She remained standing, waiting for him to do something. She felt her face flushing as he looked her up and down.

“So, you want a job, right?” She nodded. He was picking up a piece of paper. “Any experience at this kind of thing?” She shook her head. “Time heals all, my dear.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “How old are you? Maybe you have a drivers license or something?” Reluctantly she handed it to him. He looked it over and then handed it back. “I can’t be too careful you know. I wouldn’t want jail bait. You know what I mean?” Not really knowing, she nodded.

He looked her over, again. “Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.” Her eyes nearly popped out. “Come on Vickie. If you are going to work for me, I’ve got to see what you’ve got. If it helps, use the restroom. It’s over there.” He was pointing to the first of two doors out of the office.

Vickie was aghast. He wanted to see her, naked. But it made sense. After all, she was selling her body. It was almost as if another person walked through that door. It was surprisingly well lit. And the white tile was pretty clean. Feeling goose bumps, she proceeded to take her clothes off, hanging them on a couple of hooks. She shivered from the cold. Before going out, she answered the need to go to the bathroom. Keeping her sandals on, she opened the door and walked back out, showing her body to a complete stranger.

Vince shifted in his chair, face starting to flush. When she stood just inside the door, he motioned her to come closer. Dreading this, she moved toward him. She had to fight to keep her hands at her side. His eyes were drawn to the tattoo on her stomach. He broke into laughter when he deciphered it. He twirled his finger and she turned around. There was more laughter, obviously from the second tattoo.

“Show me what you can do.” She could see the bulge in his pants. She closed her eyes, unbelieving that she was about to have sex with a complete stranger, with this slug. Why had she ever let it go this far? “If it will make it any easier, why don’t you take a hit of this?” He was holding out a pint bottle of some hard liquor. She gingerly reached out to take it, trying to avoid contact with his fingers. He was smiling in a friendly way. “Come on Vickie, take a couple of hits. This won’t be so bad.”

She put the bottle to her lips and poured some of the liquid into her mouth. It was fiery and she gagged and coughed, spewing some of it out on her chest. But some of it got through and she could feel it burning down her throat. He motioned for her to take some more. She tipped the bottle back, more carefully this time and took a sip. She overcame the gag and got more into her. Determined, she took a third and a fourth sip. Her stomach was feeling warm, and her whole body was beginning to relax a little.

Vince was on his feet. She fought not to pull away from him. And then his arm was around her naked waist, pulling her to him. Her hands went up to his chest, holding him back a little. One of his hands was beginning to wander over her ass, while the other tried to work its way through the shield of her arms. Feeling more relaxed, she let it find one of her breasts, and then he was stroking her. She hated herself as she felt her nipple harden in response to his stimulus. When he tried to kiss her, she turned her head. He didn’t force her. His hand moved down her stomach into her pubic hair. She leaned her head against his shoulder as he fumbled down, trying to reach between her legs. His arms weren’t quite long enough. He bent further over and she wound up spreading her legs a bit and standing as tall as she could. She found it easier to put her arms around his neck as he began to play with her slit.

He was patient as he worked her. She could feel herself beginning to respond to him. His mouth had moved down to one of her breasts and he was gently sucking, no hint of teeth. She tensed when his teeth actually did brush her nipple. But he did not bite down. She was beginning to feel a little tired when he straightened and steered her toward his desk. And then he was making her bend ove, face down. She lay her head down on the papers, her breasts flatted on old bills and statements. He was behind her now. She heard his zipper and then his naked flesh against her buttocks and legs. There was some fumbling around she did not understand, but she kept her eyes closed. He forced her legs apart and then his cock was pressing against her pussy lips. At least he wasn’t reaming her ass. He was quickly inside her, pressing eagerly against her. His hands were gripping her hips as he vigorously fucked in and out of her. Her body was not particularly excited about this and she waited for him to finish. And then he was into the tiny strokes invented by mother nature to force a man’s sperm into a woman’s womb.

She did not move until he finally pulled back from her and left a void inside her. Standing up, she turned around just as he was pulling a rubber off his shaft. His pants down around his knees, he grunted something and disappeared into the restroom. When he returned, he was properly dressed again. She could feel his man juice beginning to run down her leg.

“Well Vickie, looks like you have all the qualifications for the job. This is how it works.” She listened as she got her clothes back on. He would put her name on a list. When clients called in, he would match their requests against what the girls were willing to do. His job was to screen out the weirdoes and creeps. If there was a match, he would call the girl and she would call the client. If they agreed to date, she would go to him. They only did hotels or private residences, for her protection. Once she got there, she would call him and tell him she was there. Then she would negotiate a price with the client. Vince’s take was $100. Anything above that was hers to keep. If she got busted, she was on her own. What else could she do but agree?

Then he asked her what she was willing to do. They settled on straight sex, no kink, men only. She would do single clients but no gang bangs. At his suggestion she listed oral first with vaginal second. There was to be no anal. Race was not an issue. She was available from 6 PM on, but only here in town.

He told her that blondes were always a favorite. And they tended to like them with bigger tits than hers. If she wanted to do anything about either, he had names that would make the changes for her at a reasonable price. And she should wear sexy underwear. He tossed her a copy of Victoria’s Secret, with some pages earmarked. He said guys really went for some of that stuff. He would tell her if there was anything special the client was looking for.

He asked her if she knew anything about rubbers. She shook her head. He shook his sadly and tossed her a box of Trojans. She admitted he didn’t know how to use them. He grinned and pulled a couple of packages out. Carefully, he showed her how to open them and make sure they were right side out. Using the liquor bottle, he unrolled one down it’s neck. She nodded in understanding. And he warned her it was vital that, when they pulled out of her, that she grab the client’s cock and rubber or it might get left inside her.

The phone was ringing. He turned away from her. “College Escorts.” Silence. “I’ve got all kinds. What are you looking for?” He looked speculatively at her. “Depends on her.” There was more silence. “Hold on a minute.” He looked at her. “Are you okay with Arabs?” She shrugged and nodded. “You available?” Gulping, she nodded. “Yeah, I got someone. Where are you at?” He was writing something down. “It’ll probably be about an hour. Sure, her name is Vickie.” And he went on to describe her body and age. “Have a good time.” With that he hung up. He handed the paper to her. “Remember, $100 goes to me. And call me when you get there. Have fun and be safe.” He patted her on the ass and she headed to the door.

Medi kept up the pressure on Vickie, demanding a $1000 each week. With her ability to make $100 for Vince, and around $100 for herself each time she dated someone, she needed about ten scores a week. Compounding this was her constant competition with other escorts for work. She soon relaxed her standards. First came anal sex. The step to kink wasn’t very hard. And later she agreed to multiple partners. This, of course, all added up to a disastrous effect on her grades. By Christmas break she was flunking out. In addition, there was no longer any denial of her pregnancy. The confrontation with her parents over her grades turned out to be nothing compared to their reaction to the e-mail sent by TOP6996. Medi heard she continued to work for Vince. In addition, she was doing some stuff for Teller Productions.