Lola’s Graduation Day

"I told you," he whispered, his fingers continuing to probe my slick, ripe pussy as he spoke. "I fucking told you."

"Turn... turn it off," I moaned softly. "My--my roommates..."

"We haven't even gotten to my favorite part yet," he whispered hungrily.

"Please--please, Brett, I can't..."

"Shh," he whispered, his thumb moving in tiny circles around the bud of my clit. "It's getting good now..."

On screen, I was still getting fucked from behind, moaning and writhing on camera as I came all over the massive cock that was railing into me over and over. But now, a second Black guy--another 18-year-old, five-star high school football recruit--had entered the frame, stroking his own exposed, engorged tool.

"Wait... WAIT," I heard myself moan frantically on screen as this other man approached my face. "Coach Brett!"

Then, for the first time, I heard Coach Brett's voice on the video.

"Keep going, Lola," he said, his voice close to the microphone. "Don't stop now."

Although I knew what was going to happen next, I still felt a pang of disbelief as I watched the girl on the screen tilt her beautiful face upward, gazing up at the strange man in front of her with a plaintive look in her smokey Asian eyes. Then, as he pressed the tip of his massive Black cock against her soft, rose-colored lips, she parted them, surrendering the warm, inviting wetness of her mouth to this enormous invader.

"Damn right you a Black cock slut," I heard him sneer in triumph.

But the girl on the screen seemed to take no notice of the scorn in his voice, for I saw that she had already begun bobbing her head up and down on his shaft, now intent on pleasing not one but two men as they plundered her body from both ends.

"Why are--are you doing this?" I moaned softly, unsure whether the question was addressed to Coach Brett or to the girl getting aggressively tag-teamed on camera by two high school football stars.

"Why?" Coach Brett chuckled incredulously, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on my clit. "You wanna know why?!"

"Uhnnnnn--uhnnnnn," I moaned, nodding my head.

"Because an Asian girl this hot shouldn't have a pussy this wet," he growled. "Because an Asian girl with a body this tight shouldn't have tits this big..."

"Uhnnn--oh fuck--"

"Because you're too fucking stacked to keep this body to yourself," he continued. "Because it would selfish not to share this body, to let men use it the way it was intended..."

"Oh shit--oh shit oh shit..."

"And because," he continued, "You really are the hottest fucking slut I've ever seen... I mean, just look at you!"

As he said this, I realized I wasn't sure where he wanted me to look. Should I look at the screen, where my ripe, tan body was being spit-roasted by a pair of 18-year-old boys? Or should I look in the mirror, where he had pushed the waistband of my pajama bottoms halfway down my thighs, exposing my glistening slit as he fingered it furiously, my hand resting limply on his wrist, offering no resistance as he pushed me closer and closer to the precipice?

"Ohh no," I moaned, biting my lip softly. "Oh no, no..."

The despair in my voice belied a fact that I could no longer deny: it didn't matter where I looked, because the girl on the screen and the girl in the mirror looked exactly the same. They both had the same emotions etched indelibly across their face. I saw fear and shame, arousal and excitement. But more than anything, I saw a thirst for approval, a desire to please, a submissive impulse that had been teased out of hiding and could not be covered up.

"Here it comes," Coach Brett said, his knowing voice dripping with arrogance, aware that he was on the verge of breaking me.

"Ohgod, ohgod," I moaned, my breath getting shallower as I fought for air.

On screen, the huge man behind me had moved his hands to my hips, gripping me tightly as he pounded into me more and more savagely.

"You want my cum, slut?" he yelled.

"MMMMMMMM," I moaned on screen, my mouth full to the point of choking on the other man's cock.

"Lemme get this bitch pregnant," he crowed. "I'm bout to dump some Black into this mixed-race bitch!"

"MMNNNNNNNNNN," I moaned again, desperately, frantically.

"TAKE--THIS--CUM--" he cried, bottoming out inside me as he erupted. "MY FUCKING SEED--"

"Ohgod, ohfuck," I squealed, watching as the man emptied his 18-year-old balls into my 22-year-old cunt. "This is... this is so wrong..."

"Almost there," Coach Brett whispered. "You ready for the big finish?"

I could feel that whatever fight, whatever resistance I had left inside me was almost spent. The video, combined with Coach Brett's deft manipulation of my oversexed pussy, had stimulated me to the very brink of self-control. I knew he was getting dangerously close to my kill switch, the secret trigger inside me that would disarm the last of my defenses, leaving him to do whatever the fuck he wanted with me.

On screen, the man behind me had slowed his pace, but his tool was still buried inside me as he continued to milk each lazy stroke with greedy pleasure. Now that he had cum, however, it was clear that I had turned my focus to pleasing the man in front of me, whose balls I had yet to drain.

He had taken hold of my hair, gripping my long, silky black mane in his powerful fist, and was using it as leverage to fuck my face with brutal force, pushing his thick Black cock deeper and deeper into my throat.

"Yeah, bitch! Yeah, bitch! Yeah, bitch!" he cried.

In the video, you could see how hard I was trying not to gag, my eyes closed in concentration as I opened my throat wider and wider, letting this younger man use my face like a pussy.

"I'mma paint this bitch!" the man cried. "I'mma claim these big titties!"

Then, finally, I watched as this high school senior yanked my head back, his long, thick cock gradually emerging from my mouth as if I were some kind of sword-swallower. On the screen, I gasped gratefully for breath, desperate to fill my lungs with air.

"Moneyshot, slut!" the man yelled, spraying the first rope of cum all over my face and into my open mouth.

"Oh Jesus--ohfuck--ohno--" I moaned, my pussy boiling over as Coach Brett's fingers began to push me over the edge.

On screen, I saw the young man pull my hair back even further, forcing my huge tits to stand proudly at attention.

For a split second, I admired the way they looked on the video: so large, so full, so perfectly round, an intoxicating match for my lithe, athletic, half-Asian body.

Maybe Coach Brett was right, I thought. Maybe an Asian girl shouldn't be allowed to stack such huge tits on top of so many other genetic gifts. After all, my skin was flawless, a honeyed, golden landscape of unblemished curves. My hair was like spun silk, healthy and glossy and full of shine, long and black and soft to the touch. My eyes were dark and alluring, my nose cutely upturned.

Maybe nature never intended for these gifts, passed down by my Korean mother, to be combined with the big, soft, "white girl" tits that sat proudly upon my chest, the lineage of my philandering, estranged white father. Maybe the crossing of their paths had created in me some kind of sexual chimera, a mythical creature endowed with more blessings than one body was meant to have.

Maybe that was why I seemed to attract so many relentless, aggressive alpha males, each of them hellbent on slaying the chimera by burying their swords in her. In Greek mythology, after all, it was believed that no one man could subdue the chimera alone. Rather, it was said that the chimera was "more than a match for many, let alone one."

Maybe the raw sexuality contained in my young, big-breasted, half-Asian body was meant to be shared, its powers of attraction simply too strong for one man. Maybe sharing my body was the only way to fully repay nature for all that it had bestowed upon me. Maybe I had no choice but to feed the insatiable appetites of one man after another, letting an endless parade of alphas feast upon the fruits of my body until their greedy bellies were ready to burst.

Then, the video woke me from my reverie, and I watched as this high school stud erupted again, dashing these musings from my mind as he coated my too-big, too-perfect tits with another salvo of his young, Black cum.

"That's the moneyshot, baby," I heard him cry. "That shit is for Worldstar!"

"Ohhh godddddd," I squealed in real life, trying to keep my voice down. "He... I let him--you let them--"

"Keep watching," Coach Brett murmured. "The end is my favorite..."

On the screen, the young man whose cum was now smeared across my face and chest had released my hair, allowing my body to slump back against the man behind me, whose softening cock was still buried inside me. For two or three seconds, the scene was almost still: I was on all fours, panting, desperate to catch my breath, finally enjoying a moment's rest as my reward for draining not one but two huge cocks.

And then I saw what Coach Brett had wanted me to see all along.

I watched as the girl in the video lifted her hand to her chest.

"Ohgodohgodohgod--"

I watched as she ran her fingers over her breasts, gently gathering up the thick, sticky gobs of spilled cum.

"Ohfuck--ohfuck--"

I watched as she tilted her face upward, her submissive, approval-seeking eyes meeting the gaze of the man who had just despoiled her beautiful body.

"Fuckfuckfuck noooooooo--"

And then I watched as she lifted her cum-laden fingers to her lips and delicately inserted them into her mouth, licking them clean one at a time.

Back in my bedroom, I felt my body begin to shake, and I knew in my bones that I was done resisting. I clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle the scream that could not be stopped.

"MMHMMHMHMMHMNNNG!!!!!" I screamed into my hand, muffling the sound as much as I could, my body writhing obscenely as my pussy spasmed around Coach Brett's probing fingers.

"I told you, Lola," Coach Brett smirked. "You're a fucking porn star..."

As tremors wracked my body, my legs gave out, and Coach Brett gently lifted me up and deposited me on the bed, finally tossing the phone aside.

"Who told you to lick your fucking fingers like that, huh?" he sneered, pulling my pajama bottoms down past my feet. "Which of us forced you to eat his fucking cum?!"

"You did!" I cried plaintively into my hand. "You made me!"

"No, no, no," he smiled lasciviously, unbuttoning his khakis as he spread my legs apart. "That was all you."

"It--it wasn't! I didn't!"

Yet even as my words protested, my body was putty in his hands. He lifted my arms and peeled my pajama top over my head, leaving me completely naked.

"The truth is, you couldn't just give him a blowjob," he said, pulling his huge, turgid pole out of his khaki shorts. "You wanted to put on a show for us."

"I didn't want to!" I cried, laying prone on the bed. "You made me!"

"You can't help yourself, can you?" he said, cradling my body as he sat down on the bed, his back against the headboard. "You know exactly what men want and you just can't stop yourself from giving it to them."

"You made me," I mewled desperately as he lifted me into a straddling position, his huge, muscular arms moving me into a perch above his thick, veiny tool. "You shouldn't have made me..."

"I know your secret, Lola," he said, looking at me face-to-face as he began lowering me onto his cock. "Do you know what that means?"

"Please, Brett... Coach, we can't," I begged, feeling the enormous mushroom tip beginning to press itself against the folds of my soaked pussy. "My roommates are home..."

"Do you know what it means?" he said again, the tip of his cock crossing the threshold as he lowered me further, my wet, welcoming canal expanding to accommodate his admirable girth.

"Coach, please... please, not like this," I pleaded, shaking my head. "I can't let them hear us... I can't let them find out..."

"It means I own you, Lola," he sneered cruelly, his cock inching its way deeper inside me with each word.

"Ohgod--Coach, ohgod," I squealed, squirming on his cock as the walls of my pussy began to send pleasure signals to my brain, the rush of dopamine beginning to flood my mind once again. "They're--they're going to hear us--"

"Then cover your mouth," he spat as his hands lowered me the final few inches, my ass landing on his hips as he bottomed out inside me.

"HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG!" I cried, clamping my hand over my mouth once again, stifling a scream for the second time in less than a minute.

"I know your secret," he whispered hoarsely, his enormous cock beginning to piston in and out of my soaked cunt. "I know how to break you..."

"HNNG--HNNNNNG--HNNNNG"

"And that means... that means I own these big, soft tits," he snarled, raising a hand to my chest and squeezing my breasts for emphasis.

"HNNNNG--HNNNNG--HMMMG--"

"...and this tight, wet pussy..."

"HNNNG--"

"...and that cock-sucking, cum-drinking mouth..."

"HNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGG--"

"...and your dark, dirty little asshole..."

"HNNNG--HNNNG--HNNNNNNNNNNNG--"

"I own every inch of you," he moaned, reaching around to pull my hair as a display of dominance. "And I'm going to run SO--MUCH--COCK--through these slutty Asian holes..."

He was bouncing me effortlessly up and down on his cock, burying his inches in me over and over again, and I was just trying to hold on for dear life. My tits were bouncing wildly in his face, jiggling lewdly for his entertainment, and I was cumming almost continuously now, each thrust sending another small orgasm crashing through my oversexed body.

I had one hand clamped tightly over my mouth, trying frantically not to scream, desperate to keep my roommates from hearing what Coach Brett was doing to me. My other hand was shamefully anchored to Coach Brett's muscular shoulders, my pink-tipped nails digging deeper and deeper into his skin with each thrust, clinging to him as my pussy rode up and down the length of his magnificent cock, betraying the extent to which he had taken control of my body.

"Maybe... maybe we shouldn't delete this video," he growled. "Maybe you think we should save it."

I shook my head wildly from side to side, my hand still clamped firmly over my mouth, afraid to speak for fear that I would scream.

"I know a guy who works with the basketball team," he grinned evilly. "Maybe you want me to send him the video."

"NNNNNNnnnnnnnnn," I moaned into my hand, my entire body screaming with fear and ecstasy as he tossed me up and down on his tool.

"I bet you'd like to help them recruit, too," he crowed. "I think you might be the girl for the job, don't you?"

I thrashed my head wildly back and forth, screaming mutely into my hand, terror growing inside me with every word he spoke. Yet even as my mind raced with fear, the physical sensations that coursed through my body were now completely beyond my control, and I could feel myself seizing and spasming as he plundered me ruthlessly, my fingers digging wantonly into his enormous shoulders, hanging on for dear life as tossed me up and down like a rag doll.

"You--you better keep this pussy... so--fucking--TIGHT," he spat. "Unless you want me to take that tiny--filthy--Asian--asshole..."

"NNN--NNNNN--NNN--"

"You better hope that birth control works real good," he moaned. "Cause you look fucking fertile to me..."

I bit down on my palm, clenching the callouses between my teeth, filling my mouth with my own flesh to keep myself from screaming.

"Big, fat tits like these... you're--your body's build to breed..."

Each thrust of his massive cock was punctuated by a wet, sloppy sound, a mortifying testament to how much I had cum, how shamefully wet I was for him.

"You cum--you little cumslut..."

Drunken with lust and power, Coach Brett bit his lip, leaned his head back, and slammed his cock into me, driving my hips down with his hands so he could penetrate me as deeply as possible. Then, as he grunted through tight lips, I felt his cock explode inside me, pumping a prodigious load of his sticky, invading cum deep into my belly.

As he filled me with his seed, I felt a mix of emotions: relief, at the fact that he had gotten what he wanted and might now let me rest; and trepidation, that yet again, I'd let a relative stranger empty his balls in my sweet young cunt.

Had I remembered to take my birth control pills? Of course I had. But his comments about fertility and breeding made me second-guess in spite of myself. For all of the dominant guys I'd been with, I still wasn't used to men who got off on threatening to breed me like some kind of animal.

For another 30 seconds, Coach Brett slowly lifted me up and down, silently pumping his balls dry, letting my pussy absorb every last ounce of his gift. I could tell he wanted to relish this moment, to revel in having gotten exactly what he came for, and I'm ashamed to say that I let him. Instead of trying to disengage from him, I kept my hand clamped over my mouth, guarding against the aftershocks of my own orgasms, waiting patiently for my body to slowly stopped spasming.

As I knelt there, still straddling Coach Brett, his gigantic cock spent but still hard enough to remain buried inside me, he removed one hand from my hips and reached across the bed, picking up the jewelry box that had ostensibly been the reason for his appearance on my doorstep.

Wordlessly, he snapped open the lid, and gently lifted the necklace from its bed of crushed velvet. He removed his other hand from hips, so I was no longer anchored to him by force. The only thing keeping me suspended in place above him was the pipe buried inside me, slowly shrinking but still at least six inches deep.

With a gesture that seemed strangely dainty for such a large man, he unfastened the clasp on the necklace.

"Let me," he said softly, holding it aloft.

I let my hand fall from my mouth, the bite marks on my palm forming two deep, painful red lines. Then, without knowing why, I bowed my head ever so slightly.

Coach Brett reached up and gently laid the thinly-braided golden chain against my collarbone. Then, he reached around my neck, and with surprising gracefulness, fastened the clasp. Then, he leaned back and looked at me.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, nodding his head in approval. "It really suits you."

Instinctively, I turned my head to face the mirror on my vanity. There, I saw the delicate golden chain glinting softly in the lamplight. I also saw myself, naked, my tanned legs straddling Coach Brett's enormous body, his cock still invisibly rooted deep inside me. My long, black hair fell softly past my shoulders. My large, oversized breasts rose and fell as I finally began to catch my breath, two honey-brown, teardrop globes, perfectly round except for the pink, eraser-head nipples that capped each mound.

In that moment, I couldn't help but imagine myself as a sacrifice of old, some ancient, ageless goddess of the male gaze, the patron saint of lust and pleasure, blessed with the perfect female body but forever cursed to let dominant men use it to fulfill their darkest fantasies. Then I saw my youth flash before my eyes, down on my knees and on all fours, cheating and being cheated on, worshipped by beta males with small cocks but slave to an endless line of big dick alphas, nameless and faceless but buried inside me one after another after another.

I saw Coach Brett's own body reflected in the mirror beneath me. What unwitting deal had I made with this alpha devil? He had lured me with gifts of attention, excitement, and several mind-shattering orgasms, but what had he demanded of me in return? Not my soul, but exploitation, humiliation, and total submission. Was it now my destiny to satisfy the terms of this debased arrangement?

I felt the clasp of the thin, elegant golden chain against the nape of my neck. Could I ever take it off? Would I even try?