tagInterracial LoveTiny Tina's Trials Pt. 02

Tiny Tina's Trials Pt. 02

byxxchillxx©

Note: All characters are 18+ years old.

Further Note: This is fiction, not journalism - if stereotypes/caricatures offend, look elsewhere.


*****

My eyes opened slowly. I didn't know where I was, but could feel a faint smile on my lips. Everything was perfectly peaceful, harmonious. It felt like I'd been asleep for a hundred years. Then, I noticed that I started getting goosebumps on my skin. That snapped me fully awake, as the memories of what had happened earlier started flooding back. I jumped up with a start, my heart pounding, hoping that it was all just a bad dream.

But it wasn't. I was completely naked on an old, dirty bus seat with dried cum caked over my stomach and tights.

"Nooo," I wailed, choking back tears. How did this happen? How could I have allowed some black thug to take advantage of me on the first day of school? To take my virginity? What was wrong with me? I didn't even know what time it was!

I almost started hyperventilating and trembling, but managed to calm down. First, I needed to find my clothes so that I wasn't so exposed ... maybe then I'd at least feel a little bit less like a slut. I finally found my skimpy little shorts and cut-off spaghetti strap top crumpled up under the seat. I sighed as I slipped the dirty clothes on, feeling disgusting. Then I saw my phone out of the corner of my eye and grabbed it.

Shit! There were already three text messages? I opened them immediately. My heart sank. It was from an unknown number, but I knew who it was immediately. The first read: "damn girl u got da best pussy i fucked in a long ass time. neva new no virgin could b a freak like dat but u my slut now. i own dat pussy!" The second was a selfie of me passed out, covered in cum, with Tyrone's huge dick covering half my face, with him grinning widely into the camera and giving a thumbs up. The third text said: "homies gonna go cra when dey c dis shit!"

I slumped in the seat and could fight it any more, and started sobbing. My life was over! Soon everyone in the whole school would know what happened. I couldn't live with myself. There was no way that I could go in there – definitely not today, probably not ever. What was I going to do?

After a few minutes of wallowing, I finally realized that I couldn't just sit on the bus all day. I had to do something. I looked at my phone again. Crap! It was already almost 11, which meant I'd slept through three periods and lunch was in half an hour. I had to get out of here before then. I sucked in my stomach, straightened my spine, and walked off the bus as coolly and collectedly as I could, even though I just wanted to die. As soon as I was off the bus I hustled off the parking lot away from the school as quickly as I could. The school was off a busy road with three lanes of traffic going each way, so I'm sure I stood out. Actually, I know I did because every time a car driven by a guy went by it invariably honked at me.

One car even slowed down so that it was just barely keeping pace with me. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I thought. The driver, a fat, middle aged Mexican, rolled down the window, and whistled.

"Damn, puta!" he called, "how much?"

I was shocked. I tried to keep walking but froze up. I'd never been treated in such a humiliating way before and had no idea how to respond.

"Ah, uh, ah, I'm not, I, I don't – " I stammered, not knowing what to do or say, as a rising sense of terror gripped my throat and felt his eyes boring into my chest.

"It's good, puta," he said, stopping the car and patting the seat next to him, winking at me, "any price I pay for un polvo."

"No!" I screamed, finally regaining my voice, "get the fuck away!"

"Ooo! Tu es chica loca!" he said, smiling a toothy grin, "Papi like! Mucho dinero, see?"

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, and opened his door. Fuck! I thought. Is he getting out of the car?

"Fuck you and your dinero, perv!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "I'm not a fucking hooker!"

Then, I broke off running away as fast as I could. I wasn't even looking were I was going; I just knew that I turned down the first side street I could to get away from that creep, but soon lost track of where I was. Everything started to blur. The last thing I remember hearing was him laughing, and calling after me, "where you going, puta loca? I'll find you and make you change your mind, you'll see!"

Eventually the adrenaline wore off and I noticed how tired I was. I finally took a look at my surroundings – it was a neighborhood I didn't recognize; not as nice as where I lived, but not horrible either. Exhausted, I collapsed under a tree not too far from the sidewalk and buried my head in my hands. This was the worst day of my life. I needed to figure out how to get home and then just collapse in my bed and never wake up.

Suddenly a car horn jolted me awake. I panicked – that disgusting creep really followed me?

"I told you to fuck the shit off goddamn it you bastardfuck asshole!" I screamed, too terrified to worry that I wasn't making sense.

"Whoa!" a female voice responded, "chill out!"

Suddenly my focus came into view. It was indeed a female behind the wheel of the car in front of me, a brand new convertible. It took me a minute to recognize her, but once I did I wished that it was the creepy Mexican. Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse, somehow I ran into Christi Taylor, cheerleader, daughter of the mayor, known school slut, and gossip extraordinaire. Fuck!

"Holy. Fucking. Shit," She said, pausing after every word and then slowly taking her sunglasses off for an even more dramatic effect. "Tina? You look like a total, complete mess. Like oh-my-god, get in the car and tell me what the motherfuck happened to you!"

"Um," I said, uneasily, "it's kind of a long story and I just, uh, I'm not feeling well, I mean, I just have to get home and I'll just walk, I mean – "

"No, no, no," Christi said defiantly, "honestly, like, no way. You're getting in the car Tina and I'll take you home. Come on."

I didn't really have a choice. Things were already bad enough as they were. At least if I went with her I could do some kind of damage control, maybe? I hoped so.

"Um, thanks," I said as I got in.

"Don't worry about it!" She said excitedly, "this is awesome! I mean, like, literally, everyone at school is like wondering where you are! Rumor is that you were like sooo hot on the bus and every guy just lost their fucking shit! Scott Jacobson said he would have asked you out right then and there but was too speechless! And then you just, like, never showed up to school and now I find you all turned out on the side of road on my way to lunch? Like, deets, girl!"

"Scott Jacobson said what?" I asked. He was our starting quarterback and his dad owned half the town. I'd had a crush on him since kindergarten but didn't think that he even knew I existed.

"What?" Christi asked, "Oh yeah just that he couldn't believe his eyes when he saw you ... blah, blah, blah ... you know how boys are. But he must have really misread you if he thought that hopeless romantic card would work on you – I mean, like, you reek of sex! Blowing off the first day of class for a good fucking? Little perfect, prissy Tina the bookworm? When did you become such a bad little slut?"

"I am not – " I started to protest, but then was cut off. Christi started giggling in a half-playful, half-cruel way and then, much to my shock, reached over and squeezed my left nipple – hard.

"Ah!" I screamed, pushing her away, "what the fuck, Christi?"

She just kept on giggling and rolled her eyes. "Oh, give me a break! I should have known that you were a freak!"

"I am not a freak!" I protested angrily, "Or a slut! Or anything! Stop saying that! It's not – ahhh!"

She did it again! Squeezed my tit – even harder this time, and didn't let go!

" – ahhh! – aaaaah – st – st – stop! – ahhh – you're – ahhh – hurting – ahhh – meeeeeee!"

She finally loosened her grip, but without moving her hand, still rolling my nipple gently between her fingers. It actually started to feel good. Without thinking, I closed my eyes and let out a light sigh.

"Ok, look, Tina," she said, sternly, "that's better. Now, I know a freakin' slut when I see one. So if you want this to keep feeling good, cut the bullshit, ok? I just want to know how crazy you really are and who was such a good fuck to corrupt you. I'm like getting wet just thinking about it! And, like, seriously, I know so many guys who would just love to fuck you so good. I'm like going to make sure that this is the best year of your life! I promise."

I barely registered what she said. I didn't know if it was just because I was so physically or emotionally exhausted, or if it was what she was doing to my poor, rock hard nipple, or some combination of the two.

"Um, ah, ok," I started, "you can't tell anyone, ok?"

She turned to face me and grinned mischievously, and said, "trust me."

I didn't, and knew better to, but then she flicked my nipple and my sense of rationality dissolved in a moan.

"O-o-ok," I panted, "Um, well, on the bus, um, so like, there weren't any seats, and, um, in the back, there was this guy, and uh – "

Suddenly my phone went off and started vibrating in my pocket, indicating that I had a text. I started to reach into my pocket to see who it was.

"Ooo!" Christi squealed, snatching the phone from my hand, "is that him?"

"Huh?" I asked, still dazed, "I don't know. I – "

Suddenly I felt my body fly forward, the seatbelt catching. She literally slammed on the brakes!

"Christi!" I screamed, "what the fuck!"

"Holy shit," Christi said in low tone, almost a whisper, before turning back at me in disbelief. "You are even more of a freak than I thought! You let Tyrone Jackson fuck you? On a school bus? Jesus Christ, Tina! Even I have more class than that! Wow! I mean, if that ghetto stuff gets you off, more power to you, but, like, whoa."

I turned beat red. Christi Taylor was judging my sexual activities?

"Give me that!" I said, grabbing the phone back, "you said I could trust you!"

I looked at the phone and my heart skipped a beat. Fuck! I thought. The text was just a pic of Tyrone's huge, hard cock, followed with the caption: "rdy 4 round 2. aint playin. where my pussy at?" On top of that, I hadn't thought to delete his other messages, so Christi had undoubtedly seen them too.

"Oh, Tina," she said, as she started accelerating again, gently putting her hand on my exposed thigh, "you can trust me. You have no idea how many of these hoodrat types have tried to get with me. But there was no way I'd ever let one of them touch me – just ick! – but now, I can just give them your number! Everybody wins! Eeek! I'm so excited!"

"Please – " I started.

"Oh, no need to ask!" She said, cutting me off, and squeezing my thigh, "what are friends for?"

I didn't say or do anything the rest of the ride home. My head was spinning, and I knew that arguing was useless. Christi kept talking but I was too zoned out to remember most of what she said. One thing did stick with me though, "... and you know I hear that none of those black guys – like seriously, none of them – will like ever – and I mean ever – wear a condom if you don't make them. Like, for them, fucking a white girl with a condom is seriously like carrying around a Louis Vuitton wallet in a J.C. Penny purse – defeats the point. So, like, if you want keep that cute little tummy nice and trim, you better check, double-check and triple-check that they're wrapped up and not pulling a fast one on you – 'cause they will if they can; we aren't talking about the Scott Jacobsons of the world who, you know, like have to worry about alimony and stuff. L – O – Fucking – L!"

Crap, crap, crap! I thought. I'm not on birth control! Now I'll need to get a pregnancy test. But, I mean, you can't get pregnant from your first time, right? No, that's, like, ridiculous! Everyone knows that. I mean, even statistically alone, right? Right? Uh, I hate my life.

Finally we turned onto my street. I got out of the car absentmindedly after we got my house. Christi spanked me, which sent a jolt through my spine, and said "see ya tomorrow, ghetto slut!"

"Yeah, ok," I agreed, defeated.

She laughed as she sped off and I approached the front door with my head bowed. I went straight to my room and collapsed on the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

****

I woke up suddenly to a knock on the door. What time was it? I looked at my phone – quarter to 7. Crap! I slept the whole afternoon away. Then I noticed that I had a dozen texts and half as many missed calls. I sighed. This was the last thing that I needed.

"Tina?" Marty's voice asked from behind the door. He must have just gotten home.

"Um, yeah?" I responded groggily.

"You in there?"

"Uh, duh," I responded, with instinctual snark.

"Um, alright, just wanted to, uh, make sure. How'd school go?"

"Fine, Marty," I snapped, "I'm just really tired, ok?"

"Uh, ok, well, I'll, um, be downstairs if you want to talk."

"Um, sure, ok," I said.

"And, uh, Tina?"

"What?" I snapped.

"I, uh, well, I'm sorry if I offended you earlier today. I just, uh, well, I know you're a good girl and just don't want anyone to take advantage of you. But, well, I know you won't let that happen, so, well, sorry."

I wasn't expecting that. It was a nice sentiment, but also made me feel like shit. Jesus, Marty, even when you try you to be legit you fuck everything up.

"Yeah, fine, thanks," I said coldly, "whatever."

I heard him sigh and walk away. Thank God. The last thing I needed was to deal with him right now. I started to get up, and realized that I was still in my gross old clothes from earlier in the day, so changed into my nighties.

Suddenly my phone rang. Still groggy and distracted I answered the call without looking, which I immediately regretted.

"Bitch!" I heard from the other end of the line, my heart sinking, "now ya'll be answerin' yo' phone? What da fuck?"

"Oh shit," I said.

"Yeah, oh shit be right!" came Tyrone's voice, "what yo' got ta' say fo' dis shit, huh?"

"Uh, like, nothing," I stammered, "I don't, um, owe you anything Tyrone! I'm not your property!"

"Da fuck?" he asked, "dat's how yo' gonna talk to yo' nigga? Guess I gotta set yo' bitch ass straight. Let me in."

"What?" I asked, "what are you talking about? I'm in bed."

"Ya'll think I give a fuck? Don't axe like youse didn't see my texts. I warned y'all if ya didn't answer I be showin' up at yo' crib. So here I is. Now lemme in ho."

"No, no, no!" I protested, "No way! You have to leave."

"Bitch! Is you stupid? I said I ain't leavin'. So y'all can let me in or I be lettin' myself in."

Crap! I started panicking. Was he serious? I'm sure he was – he was a thug! What the hell had I gotten myself into? How did he even know where I lived? Christi must have told him, that bitch! My head starting spinning again.

"Yo!" he said, "you there, ho? I swear ta' fuckin' god bitch if y'all don't – "

"Ok!" I said, giving in, "I'll let you in! But you need to be quiet, my step-dad is home."

"Bitch, don't tell me how to be! Da fuck? Y'all think I give a shit 'bout yo' stupid cracka-ass step-daddy?"

"Please!" I begged, "just go around to the left side of the house, there's a side door by my room."

I knew that Marty would be in the den on the other side of the house for a least a couple of hours. As I headed out of my room toward the side door I started trembling. Was I really sure I wanted to do this? Tyrone was crazy! What was I thinking? Maybe I should call the police instead? I just didn't know. Maybe he just wanted to talk? Yeah, right! But I didn't have any other options but to hope, did I? Before I knew it I was unlocking the side door and Tyrone was swinging it open.

"Where we fuckin'?" He demanded as he entered.

"Whoa," I said, "we're not fucking – you said you wanted to talk, so – "

"Bitch!" He said, towering over me – fuck he was huge! – and grabbing my ass, "don't give me dat shit!"

"Quiet!" I said, "seriously! Marty will hear!"

"I already told yo' ass I don't give no shit about no cracka bitch! You stupid? But if y'all show me where ya' wanna fuck the sooner we can stop talkin'."

"Fine!" I hissed, leading him to my room. My heart was pounding. How the hell could I allow this to happen to me again?

"Tyrone," I said as I opened the door, "I'm not doing anything with you, I just – "

"Shut up, ho!" He said, pushing me onto the bed, "I thought y'all said ya didn't wanna talk an' shit!"

"I said – hey stop!" I started to yell, but then restrained myself, remembering that Marty was just down the hallway, as Tyrone yanked my night-shorts off.

He ignored me, finishing the job, and then pulling his own shorts off. I couldn't help but notice the massive size of his as-yet still semi-hard member. That thing went into me earlier in the day? How was that even possible? It was at least a foot long! There was no way I was going to fit that thing again – my poor pussy was still sore! And the first time was a mistake to begin with!

Suddenly I heard Marty's voice. "Hey, Tina!" he called, "Are you okay?"

"Um, yeah, Marty!" I called back, my eyes going wide. Tyrone looked like he could care less, continuing to step out of his jeans.

"Oh, ok," Marty yelled back, "I thought I heard something."

"Uh, no – ugh!" I was cut short by Tyrone's cock, which he'd started to shove into my throat. I tried to protest, saying "no! no! no!" and shaking my head, but it came out as "uh! uh! uh!" and the head shaking actually ended up letting his cock go deeper down my throat.

"Yeah, baby gurl," Tyrone said, his voice low, almost sweet, "see dat? Y'all love dis shit don't ya? Yeah, I know what ya need. Sh, sh, sh. Don't fight it, gurl. I gonna talk good care a ya. See? It all good."

I tried to protest, but I could barely breathe, much less make any noise. I started to push against his thighs, as if somehow that would produce enough force to propel his cock out from halfway down my throat; not only did that just make him push it deeper down my mouth, but I also found myself – against my will – transfixed by the strength of the very muscles that I was pushing up against. They were so firm, so tight, so well-defined, so powerful, I couldn't help but feel that perhaps this was right, that Tyrone deserved this, that I should actually be honored that a man this strong and virile and perfect chose me to be his girl. Of course, my rational mind resisted this ridiculous reasoning as long as possible, but eventually I had to give in.

At that moment, when I gave up the last little bit of resistance, fully accepting his gorgeous, amazing cock and doing my best to pleasure it to the fullest, Tyrone ran his fingers through my hair gently, almost lovingly, and in that same low, sweet, seductive, sonorous tone said, "see gurl? I know what be best fo' ya – what yo' really need, even if ya' don't wanna admit it. Dat be why I gotta be a lil' hard on yo' bitch ass when ya be acting up, all whack an' shit. Aight? Dat be my responsibility ta' ma' hoes, ya' got me?"

I don't know why, but for some reason, in that moment, I thought that was the most beautiful, amazing thing that anyone had ever said to me. I was totally taken aback. How could I have ever questioned him, or been distraught about losing my virginity to him? I was lucky that he wanted me – me! – not cursed.

I looked up at him with fresh eyes, full of wonder and awe. He'd taken his shirt off, and I took in the perfection of his hard, chiseled, veiny muscles, with hardly an ounce of fat on his body. I immediately began to move my head forward, wrapping my lips around his thick cock, creating a kind of suction effect as I savored every inch coming into and out of my mouth. He started to precum, and I cherished every drop. Then he locked his steely, dark eyes with mine, and started to pull his cock out of my mouth slowly. This time I desperately pushed against his muscular legs in an attempt to keep his cock in my mouth, instead of my earlier misguided attempt to keep it out of my mouth, but, once again, my efforts proved to be in vain; he was just too strong.

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