Nothing

Nothing

-by nom-

I met my husband in a club. I was dancing and this big, black man pressed up close behind me, one huge arm holding me tight around the waist while the other hand was already busy inside my skimpy top, squeezing my tits hard and lifting me almost off the floor by them. It didn't occur to me to do anything other than teeter around on the toes of my stilettos as he swung me this way and that by the tits, moving me in time with the music. The club was full, loud and dark, and no one was paying attention, but even if it had been otherwise, I can't say I would have reacted differently.

His other hand moved under my even skimpier lycra mini and a finger thrust sharply into my cunt, making me squeal and jump in shock. My feet left the floor completely, and I was suspended for a few seconds by the finger in my cunt and the fingers around my left tit. I heard him laugh, his chest shaking as I leant against him. Then my feet touched the ground again, but only to let him shove more fingers in and when I jumped this time, he didn't bother putting me down but carried me through the dancing crowd just like that. I must have looked like some obscene ship's figurehead, and I giggled. He bit my neck sharply, kicked open one of the exits and finally put me down. I had just about time to note we were alone before he had shoved a finger up my ass, grabbed hold of the back of my neck and bent me over to his cock.

My mouth was already open from squealing at the finger, but it fell open even wider at the sight of his dick. Huge was an understatement. I had only a second to look at the monster before it was in my mouth, down my throat, and on its happy way to choking me to death. I felt my jaw pop, my eyes were watering uncontrollably, and snot was pouring out as my whole body spasmed, shook, choked and choked on my future husband's monster of a cock. Or more accurately, My Lord Cock, as my husband likes me to call it. It amuses him.

I was about to pass out, when he finally removed My Lord Cock from my throat and let me breathe. I collapsed at his feet, breathing hard and gratefully.

“Now that's rude,” he said, and I heard his deep, commanding voice for the first time. “That's my cock juice you just spat out. Lick it up.” I was still coughing and trying to breathe easily, so I didn't respond immediately. His foot kicked my tit and I got the message and put my face to the floor, looking for wet spots on the dirty floor and licking them up. I licked up the last spot and was raising my head when his foot came down on my head, pressing me down to rest one cheek against the floor as he rested his foot on the other cheek.

“While you're down there, clean my shoe.”

The only shoe I could reach was the one on my face, so I stuck out my tongue as far as I could and tried to clean what I could. But it wasn't easy as he was pressing down hard on my face and not letting me move much at all. He didn't say anything though, so I kept trying to do what he had told me to do, and I must have looked a sight with my bare white ass wiggling in the air, tits hanging out and squashed against the floor as a huge, black man stood above me with his foot on my face and my tongue waggling desperately about trying to clean his shoe.

My husband told me that that was the moment that the thought of marrying me first entered his head, because a cunt so desperate to please a man she had just met was just the kind of cunt for him. Even better, I was white and looked respectable – when he wasn't debasing me – and quite well off as he found out an hour later as he entered my flat. It would please his parents to see someone like me running around picking up after him, and he was right, it did. It pleases them even more these days as we're all living together, and I pick up after them too – which is a nice way of saying I'm their slave. I don't mind. I've been my husband's slave since the moment we met and if he wants me to tend to his family too, I will.

He took his foot off my face after a few minutes and stepped back. I didn't move, waiting for him to decide what I should do next and before too long, he pulled my head up by my hair. I was eye to eye with My Lord Cock again but this time I was better prepared, opening my mouth wide and letting My Lord Cock deepthroat me without gagging. But I had never handled a cock of such girth before and my control didn't last, especially once he started to skullfuck me with a vengeance. His hands were tightly fisted in my hair, and moving my head back and forth in time with his thrusting. Fast thrusting, fast and hard, my nose and lips hitting his pubic bush and bone repeatedly with jarring strength which was sure to leave them, at best, bruised. And the hi-speed bobbing was making me dizzy, although that might have been also due to the lack of air.

I hadn't noticed the pain that much before, too involved in trying to get some air into my lungs, but he fucked my throat for so long and so hard that it was impossible to ignore. My throat felt scraped raw, was probably bleeding, and the tears weren't just involuntary from all the choking and banging. He finally stopped and looked down at me, smiling and tenderly stroking my sweaty hair off my face. He didn't remove My Lord Cock though, even though he couldn't have failed to see or feel that I was struggling to breathe, but even as he did nothing, I did nothing. My hands were clenched tightly together behind my back, keeping out of his way, even as my vision was failing due to My Lord Cock plugging up my throat and blocking my airways. I could die if he didn't let me breathe soon and still I did nothing that could be seen as denying him anything that he might want.

His dark eyes swept over my face slowly, taking in every detail. There was stark tube lighting, so nothing could have been hidden. I could clearly imagine what I must look like; my bright red, sweating face, wet with tears and snot and cock juice, black mascara running wild around bulging red-veined eyes, nostrils flaring desperately as my nose lay buried in his curly black pubic hair, my red lipstick all smudged around my lips, stretched thin and past its breaking point by the slimy, black muscle that impaled and obscenely distorted my face. My eyesight was failing with the continuing lack of air, but I could clearly see his pride at the ruin that was my face, ruin that his cock, My Lord Cock, had wrought.

Then he pulled out, abruptly and painfully, his fist in my hair keeping my face right where he wanted. The cum spat out, across my eyes, making me blink rapidly and tear up even more, across my nose, up my nose and making me choke even more, and on my forehead and hair. He rubbed his cockhead on my cheek, slowly, thoughtfully. I blinked up at him and waited.

And when My Lord Cock was once again back in my mouth, and hot piss shot out, I wasn't really surprised and gulped it down as fast as I could. It wasn't fast enough though, and piss dribbled out and ran down my chin and neck and soaked my dress. He punishes me for that, for wasting anything that comes out of his body and with which he gifts me, but at that time all he did was pull out and finish off on my face and hair. Just a bit, not enough to wash away the cum, just enough to be clearly seen and smelt.

I looked up at him, still coughing a bit, my lungs not back to normal especially with some of the piss going down the wrong way. He was big and black and utterly frightening. Pitiless and cold, that was the look on his face, and the contempt came through strong and clear. My pussy ached. I'd never been so turned on in my life.

“Your name, cunt.”

“Cunt,” I answered back dazedly. He laughed, deep and loud, and I realised he'd asked me for my name, not given me the name of Cunt.

“As you wish, my lady,” he chuckled, “Cunt it is. What was your maiden name?”

I was so happy, and smiled up at him. He laughed again, then slapped my face with his cock. “Concentrate. Answer me.”

“Samantha Burlington, sir.” I tried to lick his cock as it carried on slapping my face, back and forth, back and forth.

“Too big a name for a pathetic thing like you,” he mused, now rubbing his cock around my mouth and nose. He smelled so good, strong and pungent and nasty. “And you are pathetic. A piece of shit. Utter white trash, if ever I saw it. Right, cunt?”

“Right, sir.” I was, I am. I was anything he wanted me to be.

“You a whore, cunt?”

“Yes, sir.” Anything.

He sighed, and it was just another thing that showed me I was meant for him. He always knows me, knows what's in my mind. “I meant your job, if you have one. What do you do, cunt?”

Oh. “Lawyer, sir.”

“You look too stupid for that. You are stupid, aren't you, cunt?” He bounced his cock up and down on my nose.

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes sir what?” He suddenly snarled, pulling on my hair and shaking me.

“Yes, sir, I'm stupid.”

He stopped shaking me, but his grip on my hair tightened. I flinched as some strands tore off. “And the stupid cunt is going to quit and be what worthless cunts are born to be.”

“Yes, sir,” I breathed out, my heart pounding. His dark eyes glared down at me, pierced deep and grabbed hold. He was everything.

“What are worthless cunts born to be?”

I opened my mouth, but I didn't know. What, what? I looked at him, waiting for him to tell me.

“Nothing.” He whispered, and I believed him. Then both of his hands fisted in my hair and his cock was in my throat in one rough thrust. I went cross-eyed it was so sudden, and my nose hit his pubic hair and bone and tears were falling again.

“What a show, man!”

I tensed, but didn't pull away, never thought of pulling away. There was another man there, but my husband hadn't even stopped fucking my throat. He hadn't been surprised. I rolled my eyes up to see what he was going to do, but he wasn't looking at me. He was grinning, looking at where the voice had come from.

“I expected you sooner,” he said, grunting as he thrust in hard and kept it there, holding my face tight to his crotch.

“Like I said, what a show. Too busy watching to come down, and it's still recording as we speak. I got Charlie to take over.”

I was pulled off then, and my throat burned at the speed and friction. He tugged my head back and twisted slightly, then grasped my chin and leaned down. “Say hello to Charlie.”

There was a glint in the dark corner of the ceiling, a camera. But of course. Cameras were everywhere in the clubs. “Hello.”

He shook me again by the hair, slapped my face viciously and spat in my face. “Stupid cunt! What was that?” He slapped me again, and I was so confused. “Open your cunt mouth wide, squeeze your tits, spread your legs and frig your cunt! That's how a cunt says hello!”

My face was pointed up to the camera again, and I opened my cunt mouth wide, squeezed my tits with my left hand, and spread my legs to finger my cunt. A sudden burn on my ass made me squeal and thrust my hips up. It came again, and again.

“Yeah, whip the bitch,” moaned the man I still hadn't seen. My husband was whipping me with his belt. And I squealed every time another stripe was marked on my bare butt, and I squeezed my tits harder and pumped my hips as I masturbated for the camera, for Charlie, and all the time my husband had me by the hair and shouted at me to do better. I tried, fingering my cunt and licking my nipples and biting and twisting and shoving my fingers deep inside my hole, and finally I shrieked and came. I shuddered, orgasm working its way through every bit of me and all was dark and warm and so good. It was so good, fantastic, the best sex I'd ever had. If my husband hadn't already taken me over so completely, that would have been the moment I would have promised forever.

He shook me, and I came to and realised I'd slumped forward, his grip on my hair the only thing keeping me from falling on my face. I was pathetically grateful, grateful for the cum, grateful for being found. He pushed me forward and I collapsed on the sticky, filthy floor, but I was too grateful to stay put. I turned around and crawled over to his feet and started licking, cleaning with my eager tongue and buffing with my cheeks and hair. They were talking, laughing, I didn't really hear, but I knew he wasn't speaking to me and so I was going to carry on licking until he told me to stop.

I was so happy. He was what I had been looking for, ever since I had begun to feel like I was incomplete, like I was out of place, like I was just plain wrong. I hadn't known what or who or where, but now I did. Now I definitely did. What had I been missing? Him. Where was my place? With him. And who am I? His. I am his, totally and completely. I am his to do with as he will, to do anything he wills, to be anything he wills.

I am nothing but what he makes of me. I am nothing.