She's a Bully

She's a Bully

He's a small, fearful, white dude, and she's a black bully girl

Millie Dynamite

© Copyright 2023 by Millie Dynamite

This is a work of fiction and not intended to promote a lifestyle. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to any person, living or dead, is merely coincidental.

She's a Bully

When I was a senior in high school, this bully picked on me because I was so small. I'm a guy, but I'm only 5 feet tall and weigh about 90 pounds or a bit more. I'm thin, a little soft, as in not mainly, and everyone says I'm cute. Not handsome, but cute or pretty. Bully's picked on me from day one in school, and it was okay. Boys pushing me around, I understood.

But the guys stopped being as mean by the time I was a senior. But this girl, a tough, rude, mean chick, took up where they left off. Occasionally, we had run-ins in one of the side halls of the school. At the lockers, I mean, which had to be intentional. Her locker wasn't in the same hall or even close.

She's beautiful, but not in a way that makes you like her. She's strong and wiry, and she moves like a cat. With a dark russet complexation, a soft face, freckles, her lips were full and firm, and what an adorable smile. More often than not, she scowled at me.

She had malice in her stare. Like a leather-bound book, too large to carry, too long to read, and filled with more substance to process in a single reading, she was too much for me to understand. Sometimes, she punched lockers, denting them. Or kicked locked doors, breaking them. But no one ratted her out. They perceived her as far too dangerous to have as an enemy.

Her body was shapely but hard as iron. She had angry eyes when she glared at me. Her lovely, soft face melted into a hateful, glowering gaze in a single heartbeat that made my blood turn cold. She isn't some bodybuilder, isn't fat or muscle-bound. She's attractive, fit, toned, and black. She is about 5 feet 8 or 9 inches tall, a dancer, cheerleader, and I believe she hates white people. Or at least this white boy.

You'd think she'd be loud, but she's not. She's soft-spoken, her voice calm until she says something horrible in a perfectly calm voice.

"Gonna rip your tiny nut sack off someday, boy." Her voice made the hairs on my neck tingle. A whispery voice, like a girl with a secret and a nasty one.

"Look at miss prissy, Danny boy, ain't she a pretty bitch?" She never raised her tone much, but always what she said about me carried to where I was. Like butterfly wings passed her hate from her mouth to my ears.

At school, I avoided her mostly. But sometimes, it was like she tracked me down. One day, a week before graduation, she trapped me in the hall outside the chemistry lab. She twisted my arm up into my back and forced me into a storage room.

Forcing me back to a corner, pressing me tight, making my body and face touch both walls. And she held me there, her big breasts pressed to the back of my neck. And her perfume flooded my nostrils. Red was what my mother wore, and the scent, strong and pungent, scared me. No, I don't know why.

With her hateful whisper, she asked a rude question.

"Do you piss sitting down, Danny girl?"

"No."

"Ya sure, sissy?"

"I'm not a sissy."

She reached around, unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants, and unbuttoned my pants. Her soft hand slid under the waistband of my shorts down to my crotch. She ticked my balls and toyed with the tip of my cock. The dick stiffened.

"Please stop," I said as a tear rolled down my face.

Pushing up on my arm, she put her mouth on my ear and whispered, "No, little girly."

My prick hardened and grew. Closing her hand on my cock and balls, tight, she said, "Bet you're a squirter. Better push them cute hip-huggers and panties off your ass and work them down a bit, girly."

I grabbed my tight jeans and pushed them to my ankles. Shoved my tidy whites down. My cock swelled even more in her hand while my asshole clinched. She wasn't done with me. The girl stroked me, soft, quick jerks up my shaft.

"For such a little girl, you're dicks not bad."

Her curly hair danced on my neck as she jerked me. The tip of my hard cock brushed her thumb as she worked over my prick. Tingles ran up my spine, and sparks of electricity moved around my balls and penis. My flesh was alive, hot, and her hands were so much better at this than I'd ever been.

"Ya'd like to stick yer plump dick in my dark, tight place, wouldn't ya, little girly?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"Liar, liar, panties on fire."

"I don't wanna do that."

"Yeah, ya do, or you'd be soft like your hair. Why you got such long, girly hair?"

"My mom like's it like this."

"You look like a pretty white girl," she said as she picked up her pace.

"Spit on your cock, girly."

She stopped pumping, opened her hand, and I did what she ordered. Closing her supple hand over my penis, she pumped again, rapid strokes from tip to balls. Her fingers tapped a tune on my balls, moving me closer and closer. I hovered at the edge of climax within a moment of her touch, hoping to hold on and not lose my load. She pumped my tool faster and faster again while insulting my feminine appearance.

I transfixed my eyes on her hand and my dick, her hand gliding over my penis, working me, her pinky finger slapping a cadence on my balls. You could almost hear, "Cum, shoot your load, boy, make me a nasty mess," in the tune she whacked out on cock and balls. In sheer awe, I watched her hand pumping me, pumping, pumping, pumping my dick. My penis disappeared and reappeared with each stroke.

The band began playing the school's fight song. The girl matched her stroke to the beat of the music. Hard, fast pumping, brings me near, nearer, stroke, stroke, and three it was.

A slender thread of cum shot from cock head to the wall. A thick spurt covered a spot in the joint of two walls. The tail fell, landing in the crack, and the whole thing slivered down the surface as a second blast, large and vicious, hit on the right side, spattering my boys in a wide spray.

The girl keeps pumping, squeezing me, tugging me. And blast after blast continues. Again, thick, long beads of goo shot from my penis head like a stream from a hose, landing on the wall. The little puddle grew as more and more cum landed at the intersection of the two walls.

A wash of cum rains against the wall. The final spatter hits my shoe and looks like a white rabbit. A line of thick spooch clings in the corner, waist high, sliding down a fly buzzed away, missing being encased in semen by a quick flutter of his wings.

Her hand was soft, her fingers slender. She squeezed me tightly and constricted my cock, but she did not tug or pull. With the perfect pressure, she holds my cock, increasing the force as I deflate and shrink.

"Baby girl needed that, did she?"

Rather than argue, protest, or try to fight her, I said, "Yes."

"Don't leave here for ten minutes. Meet me tonight at 10pm in the tunnels of the spillway."

"What if I can't or don't want to?" a pain erupted in my lower back. A dull thud synchronized with the sharp ache. She smacked me a second time with her balled-up fist. My knees buckled, and I fell forward into the tight corner. Trying to avoid my cum, I held my position.

"Then I'll fuck you up, but good, girl."

"I'll be there," I said.

"I know you will, Miss Prissy." She kissed my ear, soft, sexy, and wet. Grasping my earlobe with her teeth, she clinched tight. And in a moment, she was gone. The door to the room swung shut with a thud and clunk.

I rushed home, walking at a fast clip, and to my room. My mom was busy in the backyard tending to her roses. Gazing out the window, I tried to judge how much time I might have before she checked to see if I was home.

My mind drifted back to the girl, La'Kisha. La'Kisha, a strong, demanding woman who gets what she wants. It seemed what my father told me about a girl bully when I was seven years old was true. She liked me, wanted me. But La'Kisha wouldn't play kissy-kissy.

Needless to say, I got hard as I thought of her, that tall, thin, toned black chick with her tight ass and full breasts. Her bullying didn't bother me at the moment, but I was still terrified of what she might do to me. While I was turned on again, the thought of what the night might hold sent shivers through my soul.

Laying on my bed, I pulled down my pants and underwear, retrieved a hand towel, and stroked my cock. I closed my eyes, picturing La'Kisha's long black hair and dark, silky smooth skin. She is as black as night, with pale brown eyes so light you wouldn't think they weren't real.

La'Kisha's eyes are pools of dark desires. Her lips are full, dark, and alluring. Her dark skin was a deep, lush expresso color, so smooth, her hands soft yet powerful. The scent of her, a bold woodsy aroma, warm and spicy. Hints of cherries, roses, and amber are so rich and sensual.

Soon, far too soon, I lost my load. After a few moments, once I caught my breath and descended from my high, I pondered would La'Kisha would take my virginity or hurt me. Either way, tonight was the night.

Years before the dam burst, the lake's waters rushed away. The flood from the break destroyed homes, leaving 29 people dead in the aftermath. No one ever considered rebuilding. The spillway tunnels turned into a meeting place for teenagers. Eight tunnels, four wide and two deep, stood near the top of the 75-foot tall structure, which remained.

During the week, it was quiet, but on weekends, not so much. The tunnels dropped sharply for fifty feet, turned to the right, ran at a slight downward slant inside the mountain, straightened, and, after 200 yards, twisted back to the left. Eventually, dumping out in the river.

I'd only been out there once. The tunnel openings, tall rectangles, dark and foreboding, gave the place a mysterious appearance. Like a rat's nest, the air within stuck, of dampness and must. Inside, tattered lawn chairs and sagging mattresses dragged inside over the decades were positioned at irregular intervals, functioned as makeshift furniture for subterranean games of bump and grind.

On weekends, kids, other kids, not me, built small fires from broken wood and newspaper and lit kerosene lamps, which hung from the walls and swayed in the drafty air. Empty beer cans and broken booze bottles sat on the cement floors, swirled with candy wrappers, cigarette butts, and discarded hypodermics.

La'Kisha sat at the opening of one of the top tunnels, waiting for me. Like a dark avenging angel, I believed she was eager to take out her frustrations, anger, and disappointments on me. A cigarette hung from her lip, its cheery-red tip glowing in the darkness. The tip burned bright red when she inhaled, showing her dark face set with a scowl. Her light golden-brown eyes looked ruby red.

"Where you been?" she glanced at her watch. "You're fucking late."

"I don't know what you're talking about. You said ten. It's ten," I said as I stepped into the opening, my back against the wall. She's a bully, and I'm her prey.

Standing, she moved to me, gazed down into my eyes, and blew smoke.

I flinched, turning away and waving it away from my face. La'Kisha laughed. She flicked her cigarette butt into the darkness beyond.

"You're mine, Miss Prissy. And you're fucking late. It's ten 0 three."

"I'm sorry, La'Kisha, it took longer to walk here than I remembered. What do you plan to do with me?" I asked, my voice trembling with fright.

"You'll fucking find out. Maybe I'll leave you a virgin. What you say to that?"

"Thank you," I said. A pang of guilt stung me.

"Maybe I will, and maybe I won't tonight. You have a pretty cock, big un for a girly, white boy. Now, hurry," La'Kisha said. Her voice was stern and commanding. "Get your ass down inside. We heading in about 200 hundred feet."

Who was I to argue with her? Moving inside, we walked down, and a dim light below burned where the tunnel leveled out a bit. She led, and I followed, her sexy ass swaying as she descended the slope.

La'Kisha sat on a rickety lawn chair and opened her legs. Hitching up her short jean skirt, exposing her pussy in the shadows.

I took a hard breath. The angel had no panties. I stared, mesmerized by her, at the idea of the dark stranger between her legs.

"Now, sugar girl, I don't believe you don't want to lose your cherry, but for the time being, you're a pussy licker, and you better do it good. So, come here, kneel, and lick me," she said. She leaned back in the lawn chair, arms folded across her breasts, legs splayed.

"Make me feel good, or else."

I stood stock still for a moment, uncertain of what to do. La'Kisha's eyes narrowed, and a smile came to her lips. This was a girl who would only speak with the use of corporal punishment or sex.

"Come down here, motherfucker, or else," she said.

I walked over to her and kneeled down in front of her. Right off, the scent of her pussy's musky odor filled my nostrils. The aroma was strong, potent, making my nostrils burn. It was an intoxicating smell that made my head feel light and dizzy. I put my hand on her legs, and she jumped a bit.

"What the fuck you doing with your hands, bitch? Get them out of there and start licking."

La'Kisha leaned forward and grabbed my long sandy brown hair, pulled my head in close to her pussy. La'Kisha's pussy glistened from her juices. Her pussy lips, hot, engorged, and puffy, warmed my lips. They are deep red and swollen, dripping wet. I leaned in and started licking her cunt lips. Her pussy aroma ticked my nose, musky and sweet. The pussy juices are tangy, salty, and delicious. Sweet like raspberries and savory like lemon juice.

I ran my tongue up and down her slit, churned around her clit. La'Kisha moaned and twirled her hair. In rough unison, our breathing grows ragged, and we moan, sigh, and groan.

The sonance of her pleasure filled the room, music to my ears, while the smooth wet sounds of my tongue lapping at her slit, digging inside her, lapping up her nectar, filled the air. Pushing my tongue deeper into her pussy.

Her plump lips are puffy, mounds of flesh, her clit swollen, erect, and aching to be touched, teased. Remembering her order not to use my hand, I turn my tongue action to her tiny cock-like button, flicking it, and suck it.

La'Kisha grabs my head and dings fingernails into the flesh of my skull. Her hips bucked into my face, and I ate her out passionately. Hoping, praying, I'm doing this the way she wants. She shuddered through one massive orgasm after another. Without warning, she kicked my face, put her foot on my shoulder, and pushed me away.

"Get fuck over yonder, strip naked, girly boy."

La'Kisha straddled me. I gazed at her, standing over me, her hands on her hips like a superwoman. The blank expression on her face morphed, with a slow twisting, until this evil grimace covered her lips. Her light brown eyes, loving and attentive, turned to hard gold, hateful orbs.

"It's hard, baby girl. Best girl cock I've ever seen," La'Kisha said. She squatted over my cock, her pussy above the helmet only inches. This head hit my cock. She rolled five rubber bands from her wrist over her fingers and forced her fingers apart.

With her other hand, she reached between her legs and stroked me until my ridged prick grew as big as it would go. The hand with the band lowered to my hard-on. Her fingers touched my balls. In a moment, short as a heartbeat, she rolled the rubber bands down on my prick, slipping her fingers away.

The restriction hurt. Grabbing my cock, La'Kisha rubbed my cockhead around her pussy, wetting it. After a moment, she shoved herself down on me, taking all of my cock in one brutal downward thrust of her hips. She rode like she rode a Brahma bull. She fucked relentlessly, like she wanted to destroy me.

I took a deep breath and shut my eyes tight as she slid down the length of my dong. With my eyes squeezed shut, I flinched as I felt a sharp pain in my scrotum. One of her hands used my nuts as a squeeze toy. My eyes shot open, and I watched La'Kisha ride me, her thighs pumping, pumping, jostling, retreating, and plummeting once more and all of it once again.

Like some wild animal, she fucked me and treated me like the girl, while La'Kisah controlled me like she was the man. Her neck, rigid with tension and high in the air, her head thrown back, her mouth open and gasping for air, she rode me. Pounding my prick into her hot, wet cunt. Her tongue hung from her mouth. Her eyes closed, her forehead wrinkled with concentration, her lips pursed tight, a magnificent beast fucking her overpowered foe.

La'Kisha's pussy clutched me, viselike, and her pussy was hot, like an angry volcano ready to erupt.

My heart thumps loudly, the rhythm matching La'Kisha's movements up and down on my cock. A thick, foamy lather from her pussy covered my cock and my hips, frothing at the base of my penis, squishing as her ass smashes to my thighs.

Her hips slammed down on my cock, and I wanted to touch her slim waist. But I knew what a mistake it would be. With each down stroke, her pussy drenched my cock, belly, and thighs with her warm juices. Some of her lubricant, cum, whatever drizzled over my balls.

Like a tight, wet, velvet glove, her cunt milked my cock. I burned in her passion. A small helpless man under this tigress worried she'd breed with me and then feed on me. Like ocean waves crashing on a rocky shore, one massive orgasm after another overtook her.

Her breathing turned to moans, our moans to groans, her groans to growls as she pumped me of everything I'd saved. The slapping of her juicy, wet pussy against my body took me past the edge. I closed my eyes, only for a moment, and opened them wide to watch her working me, my cock, my emotions, demanding me to cum.

Gazing down at me, her angry glare burning into me, she ordered me.

"Now, baby girl, CUM."

I lost my load, filling her pussy with discharge. She pumped her body up and down on my cock, milking me. Her pussy soaked with my release, which leaked me from her. Her cunt lips glistened as she continued to rise and fall on my shaft.

She came again, enraptured. I lost myself in her as I climaxed. The white explosion of heat blinded me like a flash-bang grenade had gone off inside my head. So intense my eyes watered. I had to work to keep my gaze fixed on her. She was staring into my eyes the whole time, and in our moment, our relationship changed into something more.

Mistress and slave, dominant and submissive, I lay under her in my perfect position. Still, she rode me, milking, milking, all my cum from my shaft. Her naked body contorted, twisting this way and that, her breasts bouncing. Dark, engorged nipples pointed toward me, like beacons demanding attention, but her rule, no touching, was still in force.

She was my queen, and I was her whore, girly boy. I couldn't smell anything but her, could hear nothing but her voice. Her pussy was sweet, milking me dry and making the humiliation of being her bitch sweeter.

Laying down on top of me, she cuddled my face, played with my hair, and whispered hatefully, "You ever fuck anyone but me, and you'll be so fucking sorry."

I'm sure I would regret crossing her. But sometimes, I might want to be bullied by my African Goddess, don't you think?