Where It Doesn't Belong

[DeepBlue89]

-- CLOSED for LitShark and I --​

http://i.imgur.com/GnaJ5rr.png?1​

Always stop when you're ahead.

That's something that I heard a lot, but never gave much thought to. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I never learned when to stop and from the events that have transpired, I really wished that I had.

Let me start from the beginning.

..
​

Hi, my name is Daniella Torres. I'm an eighteen year old woman, living here in the suburbs in New York. I'm born and raised here, although I'm proud of my Latin American heritage, something that is probably a bit noticeable in this homogeneous upper-middle class neighborhood. I felt that it gave me a bit more character than most women living here, especially during my senior year of high school. It made me feel different, in a good way - always having wanted, deep down, to have something to distinguish myself from my classmates and friends. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't the only thing that distinguished me. Besides my body (which I guess I should get to a little bit later), I made sure to do things during school that would get me noticed by the more prestigious colleges in the United States; such as my extra-curricular activities and my grades. I put in a lot of time studying, which obviously helped me a great deal when I wrapped up my SATs and AP tests. I got into my first choice college, so it felt great having all my hard work pay off.

If I had to think back, I guess my time as the head of the journalism club at my school helped me the most during the application process. My work there easily motivated to push myself; the work I did constantly reminded me that It was my dream to go undercover and write hit pieces on the countries' corrupt politicians. Granted, I didn't do anything like that during my leadership role, but I did manage to get a restaurant shut down due to some money laundering (if I had to be honest, that was a bit of a fluke). It wasn't the only story of mine that got traction; it was just the only thing I've written to get picked up by a few news stations. It didn't hit the front page of any newspapers, at least to my knowledge, but it did get me noticed. Although, I should probably mention that it didn't get me noticed in the way that I wanted; the only messages that I had received was from thirsty guys who were ogling me through my twitter account, once they had gotten my name through the various news stations.

Yes, although I was proud of my achievements and my grades, it seems that my body always got the most attention. In a strange way, I could see why; I was gifted with some pretty spectacular genes. After all, I was tall (I believe that I'm about 5'8 or 9, from the last time I got measured) with a stunning body. I took care of myself, exercising and all, so I felt myself pretty fit. I was a bit on the busty side, being a 30DD cup and all. What got the most stares, was my butt; each big plump cheek being the fascination of all sorts of men. Yes, I have a big butt and my clothes seemed to show it off - but what was the alternative? I'd have to wear a loose fitting robe or something, if I really wanted to hide my curves, or the slight jiggle my cheeks gave whenever I walked. Lord knows that a certain member of our community loved the sight of my behind, the slight jiggle my big ass gave within the confines of my tight running pants, but I'll get to him a little later.

Thankfully, my boyfriend wasn't like other guys. For one, he wasn't a pervert, having been respectful for the entirety of our one year relationship. Yep, Tyler was more than happy to wait until marriage, being the sweetest guy who was happy with just a kiss on the lips. On top of everything, he was charming and knowledgeable...and supportive of my journalism career. He helped me countless times to get information and was probably the biggest help when I got my first big scoop. It wasn't because he was the only guy in the world who wanted to help me - far from it. No, it was because he was dependable and Tyler not only knew his way through my heart - he knew his way out of any situation.

So, I guess that I didn't feel any danger in convincing him to sneak through Mr. Dawson's home.

Keith Dawson, the man who lived across of the street from my home. Honestly, the man had always struck me as odd ever since the day that I first saw him, sneaking out of the back of his home after some van dropped a few boxes. Obviously, already this sounds suspicious, but I never had much to go on in order to report him to the authorities. He was very secretive and unlike other members of the community, he really didn't really socialize with us much...although did have loud parties every so often. This might sound a bit much, but I managed to pinpoint the times that he'd leave his home. This was for research purposes, because I felt that before I'd leave for college in a few weeks, that I would deliver my final scoop.

Mr. Dawson - The drug dealer in our very own neighborhood

Okay, so the title needed some work, but that was just something that I'd deal with later. First things first, I needed evidence...and that's when my lovely boyfriend came in. He'd sneak into Mr. Dawson's hope with his camera, and take a few pictures. He was to find some incriminating evidence and bail. I thought the plan was foolproof, although Tyler wasn't so sure. In fact, the only way that I could convince him to go, was to have my phone on and keep an eye out of Keith. And I did, thinking of how sweet it would be to get this scoop and get rid of Mr. Dawson from our community. I guess that I had a bit of a grudge on him, ever since I caught him once staring at my body when I jogged past his house; it was just so objectifying...and I don't know if it was in my head or not, but I could have sworn he had a camera in his hand. To make matters worse, I'm really sure that he's the one who has been leaving lewd comments on my pictures and videos on Twitter.

--

I remember actually that day, when I had gotten home and saw that I had gotten an alert, saying that I had gotten a comment. This was around the time after my report made the news and I began to get a small following on social media. I didn't post too much there, besides a few shameless selfies and pictures of my body that got a lot of likes. It was there where I believe that I first got a message from Keith Dawson. It was right before I head out for my morning run, proudly taking a quick video of myself showing off my bare mid-riff. My eyes went to the message and was caught off-guard by how direct it was:

http://i.imgur.com/sz0qhzV.gif

daw.09: that big ass needs to be dominated

I deleted the message (what? My parents check my social feed, for fuck's sake...) but it kind of resonated with me. First, it showed me that there some incredibly pervy people out there in the world. Secondly, and I'm ashamed to admit this, but reading those seven words made me feel a slight twinge between my legs...

--​

Ugh.

"Daniella? Something is wrong." Tyler said on the phone, which pretty much snapped me back to reality. Immediately, I glanced by my window and saw that a car had parked in front of Keith's home, which quickly made me panic. Could that have been him? No, he normally took about forty minutes...

Right?!

"Shit, shit, shit!" I heard my loving boyfriend cry out over the phone, which made me stand up straight and stare out the window. And then...a tumble then...silence.

"TYLER?! Shit, shit on god....no..." I began to mumble to the now dead line, making me drop my phone as I began to rush out of my place. I did so in a simple white shirt and pair of tight, washed out ripped jeans. I stumbled out, heading out as fast as I could to the back entrance of Mr. Dawson's home to find Tyler there, on the floor...

With Keith Dawson standing right next to him.

"WAIT! Please!" I cried out, when he noticed me.

 

[LitShark]

http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_leoap9GW071qfn68to1_500.jpg​

Keith Dawson’s old mentor used to always tell him the same thing, “the best hiding place is in plain sight.” It was a mantra that had served Keith well over the years and influenced his decision to move out of the city and into a neighboring Jersey suburb. See, Keith was different from his mentor, and in Keith’s Caucasian skin, Deandre, his mentor, saw opportunity. Deandre’s style was always to hide in the places where the cops deliberately never checked, the innermost slums, the high floors of housing projects—places that those in power chose to forget as often as they were able. Problems are best forgotten in bulk, after all.

Now, Keith was his own operation, his own boss so-to-speak. He was the sole owner of a moderate sized single family home in an erudite suburb—the kind of place that only ever had the door kicked in when some old widower died on the floor and the neighbors complained about the stink. Yes, it was easy for Keith to hide in plain sight out here, he was just another white snowflake in a blizzard of privilege.

The house was spacious enough to keep divisions between Keith’s home and his business, the large basement serving perfectly as a base for both his lab and his small hydroponic farm. He grew Indica and Sativa strains under specialized lights, with different areas for juveniles and flowering plants—the central air/heating vents had been reverse engineered to extract the strong smell of the plants and purify it through charcoal filters before pumping it out through the house’s dryer vent. On the opposite side of the basement was the small chemistry lab where Keith cooked MDMA, and LSD. The space also useful for cutting together batches of coke or molly—strictly party drugs though, no meth, no Ketamine, no Oxy Contin or heroin. Under no circumstances would Keith cook his cocaine into crack, either—in spite of the tremendous increase in profit margins. These weren’t much for principals by traditional standards, but Keith took his values seriously and never lost sleep over the fate of his customers.

”Junkies are gonna get their fix, it’s a fact of life. The best we can do is make sure that they get clean shit and get exactly what they pay for. It’d almost be charity if they weren’t so much damn money in it.”

Keith learned the game from Deandre and also his principals as a drug dealer, never cut drugs with other drugs or anything that you wouldn’t put into your own body. Never shit where you eat, was another important principal of Deandre’s, for him it was mostly about community, but it helped Keith to keep suspicion off of him in this close-knit suburb. In spite of the tremendous demand locally, from high school kids, young parents and college students alike, Keith never sold drugs anywhere near his home. He always drive the twenty minutes to the city, to rendezvous with Deandre and take his split. Sometimes it was as good as printing money in the basement.

The only real threats to Keith and his lucrative operation were overly curious neighbors, who too often had a bad habit of sticking their big noses where they didn’t belong. His jailbait neighbor across the street, Daniella was easily the most troublesome of these. The rest of the neighborhood got the message when someone from the Neighborhood Association asked about lining his house with white lights for Christmas and left with a bloody nose. Daniella, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to accept that what Keith did in his own home was none of her goddamn business.

All this unwanted attention from Daniella the neighbor ought to have been enough provocation for Keith to set her straight, if not for the fact that coming from her, the attention wasn’t quite as unwanted as it would have been from anyone else. The fact of the matter was that Daniella was stacked. Her ass, her tits, her face, her lips, everything about the girl was a ten—and as much as she liked to snoop around Keith’s comings and goings, he liked watching her as well. Most notably when she went for her morning jogs—all that jelly just jiggling around inside her spandex yoga pants, it was hypnotic. Keith even took a video of her jogging away once to add to his personal spank bank.

Daniella was fucking sexy, and even though he’d never admit it (and Deandre would kick his ass if he knew), there was a part of Keith that wished she would try some shit to expose him—Oh what a sweet revenge that would be…

Keith knew that there were better ways to get noticed by his sexy, young neighbor that wouldn’t put his entire life’s work at risk, especially now that she was graduating from the local high school and apparently of legal age. He started following her social media feeds, glad to see that she was just as immodest with the pictures she posted on there as she was with her jogging attire. He made himself more obvious when he watched her go for her runs in the morning, trying to get her attention from his porch, but to no avail. He even commented on a short video of hers, trying to open the lines of communication, but she promptly deleted his comment rather than answering directly. What a stuck-up bitch.

Keith’s ego was still bruised as he pulled his Mercedes out of the garage, texting Deandre that he was on his way to drop off the weekly shipment. Keith never drove more carefully than he did when his car was loaded down with drugs, as it was this time. Yet, before he even made it to the freeway, Keith’s phone alerted him to a motion sensor being tripped in the basement, followed shortly by an alert that his back door was opened.

“Shit!” Keith swore, making a quick but legal U-turn back to his house, “I was so fucking careful, who the fuck could have known to hit me out here?”

With his mind racing through business rivals, gangs who he’d priced out of the powder coke market and well-connected kingpins who might want to hit him, Keith raced back to his house as fast as he could. He pulled into his driveway in such a rush that he ran over the curb and smashed his suspension on the way into his driveway. He pulled his chrome .36 revolver from below the seat—hoping that six bullets would be enough to deal with whoever it was that broke into his house.

Keith was through the front door at a sprint, rushing down the stairs into the basement where he found a very young looking and equally terrified thief fumbling through his whole operation and cussing into his cell phone. Keith didn’t wait for an explanation, he lashed out with a backhanded swing, using the butt of his pistol grip to smash the intruder’s nose, the sound of cartilage breaking was unmistakable.

“Who sent you?” Keith demanded, aiming the pistol at the fallen intruder’s face, “who do you work for, you motherfucker?”

One of Keith’s heavy Timberland boots crushed the intruder’s phone with one stomp, sending bits of broken glass and circuitry scattering across the cement floor. The back door that led down to the basement was still slightly open, there was no mistaking how the intruder got in, but why? When the bloodied intruder was too slow in answering, Keith pistol whipped him again, this time hitting square in his jaw and knocking one of his molars loose, sending it clattering across the floor.

“Who do you work for?” Keith demanded again, advancing on the intruder who was now crawling back toward the door he’d come in through, sputtering over his own blood, “you make one more move toward that door and I’ll spread your fucking brains across those steps, you fucker!”

To demonstrate his seriousness, Keith pulled back the hammer on his pistol, locking it in the firing position. This was mostly ornamental, as modern guns included the hammer as part of the trigger’s firing mechanism, but it was great for getting people’s attention.

Just as Keith was about to reach back again for another pistol whip, he heard running feet from around the front and heard a voice, begging him to wait. When he looked up he saw his neighbor from across the street, looking as good as ever, clearly unnerved.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Keith remarked, keeping his pistol pointed at the intruder who was half inside and half draped over the concrete steps, he was afraid that the sound had tipped her and she was just an unfortunate bystander, until the intruder reached out in her direction, moaning pitifully, “wait, do you know this piece of shit?”

For emphasis, Keith kicked the intruder hard in the ribs, jolting him back toward the inside of the basement. It occurred to him for the first time how young this intruder was—much too young to be a contracted assassin, and unlikely to even be a thief sent by any serious criminal types. Before Daniella even had a chance to answer, Keith reached out, grasping her roughly by the back of her neck and pulling her down the stairs and into his basement. He took a moment to be sure there wasn’t anyone else waiting in his yard before slamming the door shut behind them.

“You’d better start fucking talking, fast,” Keith demanded of Daniella, keeping his gun on the bloody mass of would-be thief crumpled on the ground beside her, “do you know him? Do you know what he’s doing breaking into my house? Talk fast or I’ll shoot you both in the kneecaps.”

 

[DeepBlue89]

((Collaborative work of LitShark and DeepBlue89 ))​

My heart was doing somersaults in my chest when my eyes recognized Tyler's beaten body on the ground, his face bleeding profusely with his nose crooked from a powerful assault. The man towering over him was none other than Keith Dawson - the white trash drug dealer that plagued this neighborhood. It goes without saying that I knew that we fucked up pretty bad; my desire to getting this asshole out of my neighborhood being the catalyst to the man I loved being so badly hurt. This feeling of guilt was overwhelming, but with the harsh deranged look in Keith's face, it was replaced quickly by fear and anxiety over my own well-being. The fear that both Tyler and I might not make it out alive.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the man said, the movement of his hand making me realize that he had a gun in his hand. He pointed the weapon towards me, freezing me in place. My heart beat was overwhelming me, my whole body shaking. My eyes quickly moved their gaze from the drug dealer, clearly agitated, to my beaten down and bloodied boyfriend. He groaned, obviously in pain and worried for my own safety. "Oh, Tyler..." I mumbled softly, obviously filled with concern.

“wait, do you know this piece of shit?”

With a swift movement, I watched as Keith's heavy boots kicked Tyler in the ribs - a loud smack audible with just a slight crack. "NO!" I cried out with a slight whimper; the desperate sound not coming out because of my injured boyfriend, but because of the strong grip now at the back of my neck, dragging me away into a basement. "LET ME GO!" I tried to cry out, stumbling and nearly falling a few times as I was brought into a basement. The door quickly being slammed shut, my mind began to race. Panic set course across my veins.

Was I going to die?

“You’d better start fucking talking, fast,” the man said in a loud, demanding voice. He pointed the gun towards Tyler, making me move just a quarter of an inch; my mind stopping me immediately, as I knew that any mistake on my part would literally kill my boyfriend. “do you know him? Do you know what he’s doing breaking into my house? Talk fast or I’ll shoot you both in the kneecaps.”

"W-Wait! Wait!" I began to say with my hands in the air. My eyes watered with pure, unadulterated fear. "I - I - I know him! He's my boyfriend!" I began to cry out, my knees giving up on me as my legs began to wobble. A whimper came out of my mouth, while I did my best to calm this angry man. There was no reason for Tyler to die. I put him him up to this, I got him to do everything for my own benefit. I was the one who fucked up.

"I - I wanted to get one big scoop before I went out to college! This is all my fault! Please, let Tyler go!"

--


"A scoop?" Keith asked, genuinely still confused, "are you fucking serious? How dumb could you fucking be?”

Keith’s thumb moved to unlatch the hammer on his pistol, lowering it back to the ready position before toggling the safety latch back on. For the first time, Keith lowered his weapon, looking around the floor of his basement full of live plants and various drug paraphernalia. It was then that he caught sight of a small but professional looking digital camera lying on the ground where Tyler had fallen, he quickly snatched it up and turned it back on.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Keith remarked as he paged through the last few photos, seeing pictures of his lab and his garden, any one of which would be enough to get a search warrant for his place, “you dumb fucking bitch…”

Looking back up from the camera screen after deleting all of the photos, Keith aimed his gun back at Daniella and gestured with it, “your phone, give it to me right now.”

Keith snatched the phone away from Daniella’s grasp fiercely, spiking it against the ground and crushing it under his boot the same way he had done to Tyler’s phone, kicking the scraps aside to join the various pieces of Tyler’s phone in the corner nearest the doorway.

“Damnit. Fuck!” Keith erupted, clearly wracking his brain over something, “you’ve fucked this up so bad, you nosey little slut. I can’t just let him leave—I can’t let either of you leave! Don’t you get that? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Keith was mentally going over what it would take to efficiently dispose of their bodies after he killed them, but they would be missed. Who knew if anyone had seen them walking behind his house? The search for these two would almost surely lead back to Keith. He was trapped between a rock and a hard place.

“Help him up, we’re going upstairs,” Keith demanded, gesturing to Tyler with his pistol, “I need to think… come on.”

While he led the two intruders up to his living room, Keith used his phone to text Deandre, letting him know that there had been a minor security breach and that the shipment would be late. When he got up to his lavishly furnished but untidy living room, he grabbed Tyler by the collar and tossed him over onto the couch.

“Sit there and shut the fuck up, both of you,” Keith demanded, moving to the kitchen to grab a bottle of Scotch off the counter. He uncorked it with his teeth and took a long drink before sitting heavily in his armchair, facing the young couple, “you’ve seen too much already. You know that, right? I need to kill you both, because I know that I can’t trust you. I can’t see any way around it, but I am open to suggestions. How about it honor roll, any bright ideas?”

--


I won't lie, I was petrified. Keith's voice grew more and more frustrated and agitated with every second. I whimpered all sorts of apologies to my boyfriend, whom I had to help upstairs. I wasn't even sure that he could hear me, with him being in so much pain. He wasn't going to die, at least if Keith wouldn't kill us, but he did need to get patched up soon. That being said, when Keith came with that opening, I desperate thought of something that would save us both. My hand squeezed Tyler's hand, as I recalled something that Keith had commented on my social media account:

daw.09: that big ass needs to be dominated

I wasn't about to offer myself sexually, but I knew for a fact that this man was a straight up pervert and maybe I could say something that would entice him. Something that would get inside his head and maybe let us off the hook. Something that would pay us both some time to figure this out...

"I'll dump him and be your girl. You could prance me around in public like some sort of trophy; I know you've been staring at me. I'll dump his stupid ass and be yours!"

-


Keith looked up when Daniella started speaking, his eyes growing wider as she spoke, ready to jump ship on this skinny little twerp she had gotten killed and be his girl. It sure sounded enticing, her sexy young body bound to his every whim, the social currency that someone like that at his side... His face twisted up, genuinely thinking.

"We'd still have to kill him. Dump him for real if you know what I mean. It doesn't help me if we're letting him go with information and motive to get me put away. If you do him... if you kill him yourself. If you do that for me, I'll make you mine and let you live."

Keith thought briefly about giving Daniella the gun, but quickly thought better of it. This was her little crusade, she wanted him locked up... He stood suddenly, going into the kitchen and returning with a 12" kitchen knife. He dumped it on the floor at her feet.

"Use that. Get it done."

--

Oh god. Oh god.

No.

No no no no...

I stood in front of the massive kitchen knife, watching Tyler's horrified look on his face. With wide open eyes, I moved my gaze from my boyfriend's injured body, to Keith who stood there with a big evil grin on his face. He didn't seriously expect me to kill my boyfriend right now? Eyeing the butcher knife on the ground, I thought about maybe taking it and throwing it right at Keith...but I knew that I wouldn't be able to kill anyone - not even to save my own fucking life.

He'd have to kill me.

"No - No, the deal is that you let him go. Look at him! Do you think he'll talk?!" I said, pointing towards him. This was my last chance - I had to be convincing. "What did he even find? Nothing! He screwed it up and what is he going to say? That you beat him up? He broke into your house!"

With tears on my eyes, I pleaded one more time:

"Please..."

--


Keith furrowed his brows, genuinely considering what she was saying. What they'd seen was circumstantial at best, but it was still more than nothing and Tyler would make one believable witness with his face all bashed in. There still seemed no way that Keith could let him live...

"I don't think that I can do it..." Keith sighed, looking down at Tyler when a thought occurred to him, "unless you were complicit. Yeah, if you were involved with the business..."

Keith's attitude suddenly adjusted, turned more excited and less resigned to his fate. He doubted that Tyler even knew what most of what he'd seen was, much less what it was evidence of. If her could get Tyler heavily involved with distribution, he could keep him steadily under thumb. If Tyler ever flipped, Keith could pin the entire operation on him, letting the kid take the fall for everything.

"From now on, you work for me. Got it, kid?" Keith tossed the camera down into Tyler's midsection where his boot had landed earlier, "your first job is to film my new girl and me doing some fun stuff together, then you're going to take a bag from me. Next time I see you, you're going to have money for what was in the bag. Understand? Now start filming. Bitch, you stand up and get into the light. Show off the merchandise, let me see what your lives are buying me. Make sure he gets it all on film."

--

The bag wasn't a problem.

Tyler's parents were relatively well off, although Keith didn't have to know that. Even with his broken nose, he held himself together and nodded. He eyed at me, with a worried expression on his face, knowing that I didn't break up with him for real. No, he was worried because we didn't know how far this man was willing to go right now. While I was betting that he was going to go far at all - at least, because I feel like he was using me as leverage right now as well, just to make sure that Tyler would indeed come back with money next time - I didn't know if Tyler himself realized it.

That being said, Tyler began filming.

As for me? I adjusted my shirt and with a worried expression on my face, I turned around - knowing that my big young Latina ass was probably what has attracted this man to me in the first place. I wasn't stupid; I saw the way that he was staring at me for a while. Not to mention I had that comment he sent me to go by...

My only hesitation was that my boyfriend was filming myself, presenting my body to some lunatic.

http://i.imgur.com/tvNhcuR.gif​

 

[LitShark]

((The following is a collaborated post between LitShark & DeepBlue89 ))

Keith allowed himself to really smile for the first time since he'd drawn his gun. Watching Daniella's worried face as she turned around and stuck out her ass for him and the camera, he felt in control again, finally. He gave himself permission to enjoy the moment at last.

"Damn, kid! That is one top notch turd cutter. You must be all up in that on the reg! Keep rolling," Keith instructed Tyler, sliding out of his chair and kneeling behind Daniella, after pocketing his gun he slapped both of his palms down hard on Daniella's ass, squeezing and jiggling each cheek, "fuck yeah. You wanted a scoop, right? This the kind of scoop you were looking for? Answer 'yes, Daddy. Please gimme some more.'"

While he waited for Daniella to answer as he'd instructed, Keith rotated his hands, scooping each of her heavy, round cheeks, lifting them and separating them. He leaned forward and tilted his head back, until his chin was poking out through the front of Daniella's spread thighs. Keith stuck out his unusually long tongue until it just lightly traced the seam of her tight jeans and then flickered back and forth.

"La-la-la-la-ala-la-la!" Keith taunted, making Tyler's blood boil as he was forced to continue filming, "alright, lose that stupid fucking shirt now. Nobody even listens to Sade anymore, I hope you wore something sexy under. If I'm disappointed, I'm going to shoot Lover Boy here in his foot."

"Yes Daddy, please gimme some more."

I felt sick to the stomach saying those words, feeling his hands on my denim covered ass. He grabbed both big heavy cheeks, lifting them up and separating them through my jeans. But even with my ass still being covered within the confines of my pants, believe me when I say that I felt it. "Wh-What are you doing?!" I asked, though I don't think he heard me or cared. My legs took when I felt his nose press against my ass, his tongue pressing against the fabric of my jeans.
"Ooooooh GOD!" I yelped out like a wounded animal at the disgusting intrusion, my hands pressing up against the wall as my body began to shake. My mind paced back and forth; I wanted to cry out for help but doing that would be beyond stupid. He could kill us and that thought alone froze me in place; forced to feel his breathing heating up my skin up underneath my jeans. Tyler must have been furious with what he was recording; his girlfriend was having her big ass played with in front of his very eyes. You know that I never let Tyler ever even grab my ass? He tried a few times during our relationship, but I always slapped his hand away. I found it gross, imagine that. Now he was forced to watch Tyler say lewd things about my body, burying his face in what was an especially forbidden zone for him.

"alright, lose that stupid fucking shirt now. Nobody even listens to Sade anymore, I hope you wore something sexy under. If I'm disappointed, I'm going to shoot Lover Boy here in his foot."

"Please don't shoot him..." I whimpered before I began to take off my shirt. With my hands on the bottom of my cotton shirt, I pulled it up showing my tanned fit stomach and back, with my simply black bra, encasing my 30DD cup tits. The bra itself wasn't "sexy" in the sense that it wasn't lingerie or anything, but I hoped the sight of my bra covered breasts were enough to make up for that.


"You mean 'please, Daddy, don't shoot him,'" Keith demanded, raising one arm high above his head and bringing it down with a hard slap on her thick, round ass, "from now on, you call me Daddy unless instructed otherwise, you got that bitch? Stand up!"

Keith got back to his feet, checking to make sure that Tyler was still doing his job in spite of his obvious displeasure. He was crying now, quietly at least, the tears carving uneven streaks through the smear of dried blood his face had become.

When Daniella pulled her shirt over her head, Keith was there to snatch it from her. He rolled the thin cotton fabric up like a rope and tied it snug around her throat, raising his arm enough to choke her slightly and stop the blood from passing into or out of her head.

"You call this sexy? Fucking pathetic!" Keith spat, lifting and squeezing one of Daniella's breasts as though he were angry with it specifically, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises the next day, "next time I see you, you'd better be ready for me. Sexy underwear or nothing at all."

Once he'd finished berating Daniella for her choice in undergarments, he released the tension in the shirt around her slender throat, relaxing his other hand to caress and feel her up more sensuously, before sliding his open palm slowly down the middle of her bare stomach. He deftly unbuttoned her jeans and slid his hand inside.

"Let's see just how much your girl likes her new Daddy," Keith smirked at Kyle, fishing between her thighs until he felt her clit with his index and middle fingers, once he found it, he pinched gently and began to stroke it up and down while his wrist shook side to side, "there she is. Yeah, that's a hot wet pussy. Fuck, your girl is sensitive. Are you not giving her the good-good or what? Are you going to cum already slut? Apologize to your sad-sack ex while you cum all over my fingers."

Just as he felt her trembling and her moans changed pitch, attempting to form words, he tugged up on her shirt again, choking her while she tried to apologize and started to cum.

-- SMACK --​

It was the first time that someone ever slapped my ass. The spank that Keith gave me was an exclamation mark; a loud noise that echoed in this room that served to remind both Tyler and I that I was going to be feeling "the first time" for a lot of things involving Keith, unless we found a quick way out of this mess. As he yelled at me to get up, I stuttered for a second before yelling out "YES DADDY!" in sheer panic.

With my shirt out of the way, Keith quickly snatched it from me and in a very angry and bitter movement, he rolled it up and started choking me with it. "This is it. This is how I'm going to die." I thought to myself, the split second that I felt the fabric squeezing around my throat. I saw Tyler, his eyes open wide with panic at seeing me in such a predicament. Thankfully, while the grip around my throat was strong for a moment, he relaxed on it really quickly - instead taking out his anger on my big tits, squeezing them HARD on my bra. I whimpered, the video camera catching me whimper and wince at the sensation. Callous fingers grabbing hold on my breasts and gripping on the soft flesh enough that I immediately agreed. Sexy underwear or nothing.

Once he relaxed his grip on my throat even more, I thought that I was in the clear.

Silly me.

Instead I found his hand inside of my jeans, feeling the palm of his hand just underneath my shaven pussy, covered by my cotton black panties.

"Let's see just how much your girl likes her new Daddy,"

"Wait! No please I - " I began, before I felt his finger move between my thighs and his fingers pinching at my clit. I howled at the sensation, my legs wobbling and my pussy twinging at the new sensation. He mocked me, his fingers moving side to side as he fiddled me like a violin. "I - I - I - " I began, unable to form words as I panted from the pleasure he was giving me. As ashamed as I am to admit this, when he tugged on the shirt again, that was it. Choking me while he played with my clit, I shivered and moaned, groaning loud incoherently while my legs shook - my climax hitting me hard while my pussy released my cum, creaming all over Keith's hands. I needed Keith to stop! This was all so much I -

"DADDY PLEASE!" I moaned so loudly in a sad attempt to get him to stop.

Tyler couldn't take it, so he decided to just straight up tell Keith:

"STOP IT SHE'S NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE!"

Daniella was still cumming when Keith lunged past her, delivering a hard kick to Tyler’s already sore midsection, the heavy boot doubling him over and knocking him to the ground. Keith released his grip on the shirt and reached back to deliver another series of hard, stinging slaps to her big, round ass—all the while, keeping his fingers strumming away at her clit, maneuvering under the hood and baring down on the raw cluster of nerve endings again and again with his rough fingerpads.

—SMACK SMACK SMACK—​

​

“You shut the fuck up and stay out of this, Loverboy. You don’t tell me stop, go or anything in-between. You just swallow your fucking tongue and live with this shit. I own you now, understand? Your life belongs to me. I tell you what the fuck is up, not the other way around,” Keith berated Tyler, before turning back to Daniella and gathering the shirt again, tightening around her neck once more, “as for you, whore. You beg when I tell you to beg, and for what I tell you to beg for. I don’t give a fuck if you are a virgin, a nun or a goddamn grandmother. You don’t beg me to stop, not ever. The only thing I ever want to hear you beg me for is more.”

Keith’s fingers moved lower, scooping up a solid collection of Daniella’s pussy cream that she’d effused when she came. He released her completely and shoved her back onto the couch. As he passed Tyler, he smeared her thick, white pussy cream across Tyler’s upper lip, making ruddy smears in the dried blood there. He went to the kitchen and came back with a handful of things. One was a square of paper, slightly larger than a postage stamp, he peeled off a clear plastic sheet and held it out to Tyler.

“Swallow this,” Keith demanded, pushing the piece of paper into the smaller man’s mouth, “I’m giving you a whole sheet of acid, so you can learn about your new business. And as for you, whore. I got us a couple of pure pills of Molly so that we can really make your first time memorable. Open your mouth and swallow what I give you.”

Keith dropped the capsule of pure MDMA into Daniella’s throat before taking the other capsule he’d brought for himself. Then, he unzipped his own jeans and freed his hard, eleven inch cock right in front of her face, nearly striking her with it as it bounced in front of her.

“Show me that you can be a good girl and I’ll give you a break from cumming. Lick every inch of my cock and balls, make it nasty, sloppy and wet. Tell me how much you love sucking my cock while your ex films us,” Keith grinned, draping the rolled up shirt around the back of her neck now, “but if I get bored or feel your teeth at all, I’m going to fuck your face until you pass the fuck out. Now go!”

 

[DeepBlue89]

((Collaborative work of LitShark and DeepBlue89 ))​

Eyes shut tight and my mouth opened wide, back arching in sheer ecstasy. I practically screamed while my pussy spewed out my cum all over Keith's aggressive fingers, his digits still pressing and rubbing harshly, even while my hands attempted to undo the powerful grip the shirt had around my neck, albeit weakly. What is more, tears ran down my eyes; not solely from the fact that I watched my boyfriend get kicked hard, writhing on the floor, but because both my body and mind was betraying me. By that, I not only mean that I was upset over the fact that here I was, cumming for the first time at the hands of some psycho pervert, but also because my mind was practically begging me to fully give in. It was so bad that while he delivered powerful spanks to my famous big butt, I wondered if he had a spanking fetish. But this curiosity wasn't an fearful one, but rather thoughts of pure excitement. My mind began to conjure up scenarios where he'd choke and spank me again; maybe without clothes on. This depraved thought send more shivers down my spine and along with it, another wave of utter euphoria.

Another orgasm.

—SMACK SMACK SMACK—

I bit my tongue this time, feeling the grip around my throat relax as my legs shook, feeling the hot cum come out of my pussy and go all over my inner thighs and jeans. I was out of breath, gasping for air while Keith berated Tyler. This didn't stop me from rocking my hips slightly, as if my body had a mind of its own and wanted Keith to finger me some more.

I felt sick to my stomach once the excitement wore off.

"U-UGH!" was the only noise that could come out of my mouth when I found myself caught off-guard, the makeshift noose pulling me by the throat. My fingers dug into the material, while hearing my assailant say: “as for you, whore. You beg when I tell you to beg, and for what I tell you to beg for. I don’t give a fuck if you are a virgin, a nun or a goddamn grandmother. You don’t beg me to stop, not ever. The only thing I ever want to hear you beg me for is more.”

I panicked some more.

"Y-Yes Daddy!" I managed to say, gasping for breath until Keith let me go, clearly showing both me and Tyler who was in charge of the situation. Tossed onto the couch, I merely laid there on my side, my pants undone and hanging just barely above my knees. I didn't look as to what Keith was doing; presumably something degrading to my boyfriend before he made his way out of the room. Ashamed, I look over to Tyler who mouthed me "Run". But I couldn't. There was no doubt in my mind that doing so would get my boyfriend killed and there was no chance in hell that I would ever be able to live with myself if that were the case. My inaction, as it turned out, was a good idea - it didn't take too long before Keith came back in the room with us.

I looked away, once again.

..But...

"...And as for you, whore. I got us a couple of pure pills of Molly so that we can really make your first time memorable. Open your mouth and swallow what I give you.”

Obediently, I opened my mouth and felt a pill dropped in. Hesitantly, I swallowed it - seeing him do the same somehow calming me down a bit, as if he wouldn't take anything harmful to himself. But these thoughts were nothing compared to the shock I felt when I saw Keith unzip his own jeans, freeing his long, hard shaft right in front of my face; the tip of it nearly hitting my nose while he cruelly went on: “Show me that you can be a good girl and I’ll give you a break from cumming. Lick every inch of my cock and balls, make it nasty, sloppy and wet. Tell me how much you love sucking my cock while your ex films us,”

I had never had a cock in front of me like this. Keep in mind that while Tyler and I were boyfriend and girlfriend, that we hadn't actually had sex; the furthest we had ever gone being the occasional makeout session. But even so, I knew that this thing in front of me was HUGE. But this fear was strange; while it was always in the back of my mind, there was a tinge of curiosity and excitement stirring up sensations that I could only describe as depraved. It didn't take me too long to realize that I must have been given some type of drug, but by the time this realization had hit it was far too late. That said, with a movement of his hand, Keith rested my shirt on my neck, as if to threaten me. “but if I get bored or feel your teeth at all, I’m going to fuck your face until you pass the fuck out. Now go!”

Wordlessly, I brought my mouth closer to his massive cock, opening my mouth to fit the tip of it in. The warmth of it immediately made my heart jump, my inner thoughts jumping back and forth from "He's forcing me to suck his cock!" to "Am I enjoying this?!". Nevertheless, I ran my tongue all over the tip of it, pressing the bottom of my tongue on the large mushroom head before sliding it around in a circular manner. I had trouble fitting it in, but I did my best before picking up the pace a little. Lord knows that I couldn't be too modest, otherwise I'd be in deep, deep trouble. At least, that's what I told myself as I brought my hands around to feel the rock hard cock, my fingers having a very difficult time reaching around it.

I brought my mouth away from me to say:

"Mmmm daddy, this is so BIG!" my eyes moving up to see his gaze "I love sucking this cock!"

I tried to be as enthusiastic as I could, and I suppose a part of me was. I ignored Keith as I continued, my tongue running along the entire surface, going up to his balls before running back. I groaned a little before opening my mouth wide again, a loud slurping noise engulfing the room as my saliva dripped all over the warm surface.

Maybe if I did a good job, maybe he wouldn't take my virginity away from me.

Maybe I could have enough time to figure out a way out of this...

--

Keith sighed loudly as Daniella began to shed her inhibitions and become more compliant by the second, letting the word “Daddy” flow effortlessly from her lips, obeying him perfectly and finally wrapping those soft, wet lips around his big cock and sucking him off like the sloppy little whore he’d always dreamed she could be when he was fantasizing about her. Maybe it was the Molly, heightening her pleasure senses and juicing her brain receptors with dopamine—but she’d barely swallowed the pill and she was already a slave to his cock, dragging her lips and tongue up and down the sides and bottom, praising his size and professing her love for the task she’d been given.

“Of course it’s big, you dumb slut. That’s a man’s cock you got there. I’m glad to hear you love sucking it so much,” Keith was smirking down at her, holding the offered eye contact and staring deep into her eyes—she surely didn’t seem like a hostage anymore, “the whore who loves her job never works a day in her life, isn’t that right Spielberg?”

The hand with the gun in it was now resting on the back of Daniella’s head, rising and falling with the movement of her head as she moved up and down Keith’s long shaft, heaping attention on every inch of his hard, pulsing flesh. While his hand rode the back of her head, Keith turned back to Tyler, beckoning him over to the couch with a curt motion of his head.

“Get your ass over here, Tarantino! You’re missing the best part, see? Your bitch has already fallen in love with my cock! Look at her, she fucking loves it,” when Tyler moved back close enough, Keith reached out to grab him roughly by the collar and drag him over to the couch, making sure to get Daniella in the frame as he pushed forward with his hips and simultaneously pulled on the back of her head gagging her with the tremendous girth of his shaft, “gag on it, bitch. Gag on this cock and fall in love with it. Stretch your tongue out and lick my balls too, try to get everything in there. Then while you're licking my balls, I want you to explain to your ex why you don't love him no more.”

--

Lost amid the disgusting act of sucking the cock of this depraved psychopath, I didn't even notice the sight of Tyler being degraded some more. Had I noticed, maybe I would have stopped myself from continuing; after all, I had completely forgotten that I was being recorded in this very compromising position...or maybe I was telling myself this in order to make myself feel better. After all, once Keith had pulled me in towards his giant cock, I opened my eyes wide as I chocked on it - my glance panicked and shocked when I noticed Tyler's lost gaze on me while he focused the camera on me - unwilling to even attempt to set myself free. In fact, the feeling of being so overpowered and helpless made the degrading act feel good. So good, in fact, that I could feel the dampness dripping from my inner thighs.

"Mmmm I LOVE IT!" I lewdly exclaimed, unable to properly control myself while I stuck my tongue out, as if I were really some dirty slut. With it, I touched his balls again, going over the surface while my saliva dripped on his cock. With my hand, I gripped and rubbed along the surface as I continued "I don't love YOU anymore because he's a MAN! He treats me rough and I LOVE it!" before I bobbed my head as far as I could, stuffing my mouth with his shaft before a muffled moan escaped my lips, even as I chocked in it some more.

"I love this...fucking...huge cock..." I said with a slurred, depraved tone of voice as I kissed and sucked on it some more, feeling my mind slip into a sexual, depraved trance.[/QUOTE]

--

Keith was surprised at just how enthusiastically Daniella was taking to becoming his personal cumdump. He thought that his cock was fully hard when she started sucking him, but when she started gushing literally and figuratively over his thick shaft, her saliva and mucus dripping down her neck and chin, into her generous cleavage and soaking the satin cups of her bra. He grunted when she impaired herself on it, shoving her face aggressively into his lap and squeezing his cockhead and shaft with her slender, constricting throat.

"Holy shit, kid. I think I broke your girlfriend. The bitch is cockstruck, and I ain't even put it in her yet. I am, going to fuck her, you understand?" Keith taunted Tyler, who had the distinct look of being broken now himself, still filming the spectacle his girl was making of herself, Keith held her head down, using the side of the pistol and his hand to grip the back of her head, "do you still love her, now? Do you think you'll be able to satisfy her now that she knows what it's like to be taken and forced by a man?"

When Keith let Daniella up for air, she professed her love for his cock loudly, with clear goo gushing past her mouth, bubbles forming in the mess. Between "fucking", "huge" and "cock" Keith shoved her head down into his lap again, stuffing her throat and making her gag loudly over each filthy word.

"She's found her true self, Romeo. This is a cock-starving slut, and you've been tormenting her for years with a life she's never going to belong in. She's a whore. She's never going to be anybody's wife. Get up, slut. Get up and bend that ass over the arm of the couch. Look your boyfriend right in the face and break up with him, tell him what you are and why you can't ever be with him. Then her me to fuck you, her me to ruin that right little pussy you've foolishly kept a virgin until tonight. Beg me to slam that unworthy, virgin cunt until you blast off into outer space."

--

Even this state of mind, I knew that if I continued that there would be going back. This was being filmed and there was no doubt, even now, that this asshole wouldn't use the footage to blackmail me into doing this again. Still, the sheer pleasure of mentally seeing the reflection of myself on the lens of the camera, lewdly licking and sucking some stranger's cock, was just too difficult to fight off. With my pussy dripping wet, I accept the disgusting things Keith said about me with open arms. And so, almost as if I was completely drunk, I sluggishly got up and bent my body on the arm of the couch.

With my big ass sticking up in the air, I stared at Tyler intensely with my mouth just slightly agape. I couldn't tell, mainly because my mind was in a different planet by now, but I think Tyler wasn't focused on the sight in front of him; his girlfriend was about to be fucked by some psycho, lustful lunatic. Whether this was his choice or because of the drugs he was forced to take is a whole other story - the point is that his eyes seemed almost dead and somehow that made things a lot easier for me.

"I want to break up with you Tyler!" I began to say as my heart rushed inside of my chest, my breasts heaving even as I pressed them against the couch - my hard nipples pressing and slightly rubbing along the surface. "You're not enough for me! I am a fucking whore and I want to be spanked, choked and fucked!" I continued in a slurred tone of voice, a whimper escaping my lips as my pussy dripped with excitement - excitement coming from my own words at this point!

"Please ruin my pussy! Fuck me nonstop!" I then added with a groan.

Then a sick, twisted idea came over to me.

"Tyler! Come here and film me from behind!"

I don't even know why I did that. There was no point - I had already lost and offered myself to Keith. There was no need to add insult to injury, at least towards an already defeated Tyler. With that, I reached around and grabbed one fat asscheek before saying "This is his prize! I want him to slam my pussy until I'm a complete mess!"

 

[LitShark]

Keith let go of a hearty and derisive laugh as Daniella took over the role of director, sending the blank-eyed Tyler between her legs to get a good shot of her hot, leaking pussy as she spread herself open and begged for Keith to wreck her tight, virgin hole. For his part, Keith shed the rest of his clothing as he moved behind Daniella, retrieving her still twisted and stretched shirt from the ground. By way of announcing himself when he arrived at his position behind her, effectively straddling Tyler, he slapped his big, heavy cock between her spread ass cheeks, his thick shaft making a slap and thud sound each time it landed, splashing a combination of her saliva and juices back at Tyler each time he slapped his cock against her crease.

“This is a rare breed of bitch you brought me, nerd. Much too rare to be wasted on the likes of you,” Keith smirked, talking still to Tyler between his legs as he wrapped Daniella’s shirt across her face, spreading open her teeth with his index finger before guiding the roll of fabric into her mouth, bridling her like a stage horse, “she’s a born slut, masquerading as a goody-goody. All of the very best bad girls tried to be good once—but look at her, she’s in her element—look at her body, absolutely fucking built for this—look at this fucking pussy, dripping into the carpet—never even been fucked before, but it knows just what it’s waiting for. She’s evolved to become my fucking whore. It’s a sin against nature that she’s had to wait this long to find her calling…”

As he spoke, Keith tugged back on Daniella’s reigns, moving his hands over her body as he commented on it, pushing her back into a deeper arch, unclasping her bra and letting the straps fall away from her back, trailing his fingertips over her exposed asshole through her parted lips and spreading them open wider as he positioned himself, sliding the round head of his cock between them, nestling into that narrow opening, nudging just the very tip of his cock into her pussy, teasing her as he taunted her boyfriend.

“Speak slut, keep begging me to fuck you through the gag, let me hear your dumb, muffled voice. Promise me things, comment on how unworthy you are—how lucky you’d be to have me as your first. Apologize for not being better! Don’t halfway spread yourself, you dumb bitch. If you’re going to invite me in you grab both those fat cheeks and spread yourself.”

SMACK

Keith let go of her pussy lips to deliver a hard, driving spank to her open ass cheek, the one she wasn’t spreading as he drew back on the shirt in her mouth, arching her back into the punishment. Once he was satisfied with her begging and she was spread to his satisfaction, Keith grabbed her wrist in his left hand and pulled the shirt with his right again, plunging his hips forward and slamming his thick cock past her hymen and against her cervix. The legs of the couch groaned as his impact pushed the heavy piece of furniture across the floor.

. .


I couldn't believe this.

I was a proud woman, a woman who never let Tyler so much as grab my ass because I thought that it was degrading. Yet, here I was, being treated as something no better than a fucking slut. No, not even. I was degraded to a point even further than that, with makeshift reigns around my mouth, the taste of the cotton fabric being a cruel reminder that I lost more than my virginity, I was losing all sense of self-respect. I teared up, yet was craving more the big fat cock that was slapping my ass from behind. My quarter sized pink nipples hardened painfully, my pussy dripping just as I felt the thick head of his shaft push inside of my inner lips. A muffled scream escaped my mouth, silenced by my shirt.

— SMACK—​

With a loud spank, I snapped back to this sick reality.

"Pppleassee forgive me" I groaned out loud, my eyes shut tight as I squealed. "Ppplease fuck me! PLEASE! I'll do anything...just please give me more. Punish me I'll be your slut forever, I'll let you FUCK me whenever you want I-"

With that, I spread my fat ass cheeks for him, exposing my asshole and pussy. In seemingly a second, I felt it. I felt his hot, hard, massive shaft shove its way inside of me. He buckled onto me like a horse, arching my back for his own sick twisted enjoyment. Just like that, he tore through my hymen; ruining my virginity in such a dirty and demented way that even in this state of mind, I knew it was wrong.

And yet...

"FUCKKKKKKKK YOUUUUUU!" I groaned out loud. Not with anger. Not because I wanted to tell this motherfucker how I much I hated him. No - because I wanted more. I wanted more of this twisted pleasure, more of this pain and more of this derangement. I pushed my ass against him, feeling the furniture move as I squealed the strange mixture of pain and pleasure. I cried, my nails digging onto the couch.

He must have known how bad I wanted it, because even though I was screaming profanities, my hands reached around and spread my big ass for him.

. .

“Fuck me?” Keith scoffed, keeping the rock hard shaft of his thick cock buried inside her, his hips pinning her hard against the couch as his forearm flexed and forced her head back further, arching her back so deeply that the muscles began to involuntarily quake from being forcibly stretched, “fuck me, you little bitch? No, I think I’m going to fuck—you—!!”

Now Keith was using his cock like a weapon, slamming her cervix with the rigid head arhythmically to emphasize his words. He knew that she hadn’t meant it, not the way she might have even a few hours ago, or those times when she caught him staring at her during her morning workouts, but nonetheless, he didn’t want her in the habit of talking to him that way. His grip around her slender wrist was tight enough that she’d have a bruise the next day, one among the several others Keith had inflicted upon her body at various intervals in their sudden and violent tryst.

“Damn that’s tight!” Keith taunted, smashing her tiny, virgin pussy again, the impact of his body against hers making her big, round ass jiggle, “I can’t believe you never got up in here, Tyler. Such a waste of quality pussy. Not to worry though, me and my boys will make sure to make proper use of this fuck-hole from now on.”

Keith was increasing his tempo now, slamming Daniella’s pussy with faster and more precise strokes, as he found his rhythm. Her pussy juices mixed with the blood from her torn hymen and splashed back into Tyler’s face, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He was a broken man.

“I’d offer to let you hit it next, Romeo; but I doubt she’d even be able to feel your tiny little pecker when I’m done stretching out this pussy.”