Ebony and Ivory Ch. 03

[Thanks to Richar for the edition.]

Freyja awoke with a throbbing headache and a deep soreness in her pussy. The pounding in her temples and the dry, sticky weight on her tongue suggested she had one drink too many last night, too. She had never been a heavy drinker, considering her non-existent tolerance. So why did she accept Ogun's offer?

There was a part of her that wished she could say she was drunk last night, that she could blame alcohol for blowing Ogun in front of a camera, and then riding Malik on the couch. But the feeling of being led and not having control had been a massive turn-on. All the boys she had dated before were so timid, so... careful with her. So solicitous that, sometimes, it had gotten on her nerves. But Ogun... he had just taken her. He was unlike any man she had ever met; so rough, confident, and direct... and he saw right through her.

Compounding her unrest was the long, judgmental shadow of her father, an old-fashioned patriarch whose racist views and oppressive stance on women's roles had haunted her since childhood. Even now, from across the Atlantic, his influence lingered. His phone calls were filled with expectations of subservience, disdain for her career, and thinly veiled contempt for anyone outside his narrow world. Freyja had always craved to break free from the chains of his tyrannical expectations, a release that pulsed inside her like a forbidden rhythm. And then her fantasies began. They had started years ago, when she was a teenager, watching the video clips of her hip-hop idols. And recently, they had grown vivid, consuming. Every night, she found herself lost in a fantasy of a black stud, with his muscular frame towering over her, his manly presence commanding and unapologetic.

The college student yawned, stretching out her arms and her huge tits bounced into view. She pushed herself up from the crumpled sheets on the bed, and her gaze roamed the room. A quick look at the alarm clock on the nightstand read '12:30 pm'.

Suddenly, a chat from the door's other side let her know Ogun and Malik were awake. Fuck! Her clothes were abandoned in the living room, so she would have to venture out naked to retrieve them. Frowning, Freyja left the bed and looked in Malik's drawers for something to wear. She found a black, oversized T-shirt, big enough to cover her butt so she didn't have to wear anything else underneath it. The college student was a bit wobbly as she walked through the empty hallway. The room would be right there when she turned the corner.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" A male, familiar voice said from the room. "I get the plan and I understand how much money is at stake." Freyja stopped and leaned against the wall. That's Ogun's voice, she thought. "I've almost got this bitch. Shouldn't take more than a couple of sessions... But it's much too early for something like that."

A phone conversation, Freyja concluded, listening closer. Was he talking about her? Red flags were everywhere, but she was too naive to see them and the headache and hangover were making it hard to think clearly.

"Yeah... I'll call you then." She heard Ogun hang up his cell phone and she made her appearance from around the corner. "How are you holding up, honey?" Ogun said as she walked into.

The room was illuminated by large, floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the glittering Detroit skyline, a dim light spilling onto sleek, BDSM furniture. The brick walls were covered with graffiti and posters of scantily clad women. The young black man was sitting in an office chair, smoking a joint, in front of a computer with two big monitors. Freyja sighed as her gaze wandered to her red dress, which still stood on the couch where she had left it the night before.

"My head is killing me, and my jaw is sore," she complained, rubbing it with her hand, and offered him a polite smile. "It's late. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I thought you'd want to sleep in after last night... filming," he said with a shrug, while she picked up her discarded clothes from the floor.

Freyja bit her lip, and her soft hazel eyes stared him from beneath thick lashes. The black man was devastatingly handsome. Casually leaning back into the computer seat, one arm dangling off the back and the other propped on the keyboard, he looked as if he were carved out of onyx and sin. Freyja's hazel eyes were drawn to his warm, tattooed, dark skin on display under a tight, white T-shirt and loose jeans.

Alpha males like him weren't good at mornings after, she concluded. They were so honest with their desires when balls deep in a warm, white pussy, but suddenly when the woman was awake the morning after they just didn't know how to behave properly.

The bathroom door opened, and she saw Malik, his curly hair damp and his black torso still glistening from the shower, casually pacing around in nothing but a towel. The water made his dark skin glow, and the fabric he had wrapped around his hips clung to tease the shape of his spectacular cock.

"Good morning," said Malik, passing through the open kitchen, and he offered her a cup of coffee.

"Oh, thanks." Freyja took the cup, carding a hand through ratty reddish blonde hair. Her nipples were cranked up tight, and her full breasts were swaying slightly under the baggy T-shirt. "Delicious".

"I took you for a black coffee kind of girl," Malik teased.

"Black and strong," she answered, yawning and stretching. Her T-shirt rose up and before him was the sight of her immaculately waxed pussy with just a narrow stripe of blonde on her mound. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

"Oh, it's certainly you," said Malik.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Freyja smiled over her cup as she took a sip of coffee, with Kendrick Lamar's shirt falling down her shoulders. "Sorry, but I didn't bring pajamas or a dressing gown."

"Forget it. You have to get used to being nude around the cast and crew." The cameraman glanced up at Ogun, who was busy with the computer at that very moment. They pretended that last night had been nothing strange. That's just fine by Freyja, but she couldn't help but notice how Malik's eyes went dark as he watched her lick her spoon clean. Then she stared Ogun work for a few moments, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "How's the editing coming along?"

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Come here. Look," said Ogun, breathing smoke between his thick lips. Malik watched as she walked away. "Wow! You're a cute little PAWG!"

"What's a PAWG?" Freyja could feel his predatory eyes looking her up and down.

"A PAWG is a 'pretty ass white girl'. Or in your case, a pretty fat-ass white girl. Look at you... damn!" Without warning, Malik reared his left hand back and smacked her booty.

"Ouch!" Freyja complained and laughed. She hated being so submissive, but Malik's raw assertiveness did something weird to her brain.

Sitting in front of the PC, Ogun pushed her onto his lap as if she belonged there. She pressed against his erection, so she could feel his heat through the thin layers of clothes, and a delicious shudder ran down her spine. The Norwegian girl looked at the computer screen, and her heart began racing. Ogun had an open Adobe Premiere project: the oral sex video they recorded the night before.

"How did I perform?" She asked.

"Fantastic for a first-timer, " Ogun answered. "Our promo video is uploaded to the HubPorn website. It hadn't even been two hours, and it has over 100,000 views and just as many likes."

"What about OnlyFans?"

"More than 600 subscribers, and growing," answered Malik, sitting on the sofa on her right.

The news sent a jolt of excitement through Freyja's body. All her doubts and concerns were forgotten now. She was too excited to think of anything else, so she took the mouse and scrolled to the trending videos. She saw the thumbnail of herself with the face blurred and a black cock in her mouth: '@Ebony_Master face fucks @Ivory_Slave'.

"You're a pure natural. A submissive vibe." Ogun brushed her hair behind her ear and shifted the joint to his other hand to avoid burning her. "You have got a body that is made for interracial porn..., from the ass to the tits and your cute, fuckable face. Looks even sexier glazed in cum." Her heart stuttering inside her chest, Freyja leaned foward and unwittingly pressed her ass against the front of his trousers where his thick, hard cock was straining against the fabric. "You feel me?"

"Yeah," Freyja muttered as she felt his dick twitch.

The promotional video ran for only five minutes. The viewers could watch her blonde-haired head bob up and down in Ogun's lap, pleasuring her black master. After her initial minute, 'Ivory Slave' began to gurgle as her wet mouth was fucked. Keeping her lips over her teeth and mouth wide open, she weather the barrage thrusts and stood still when he pushed his cock deep into her throat.

"Oh, my God," Freyja commented, watching herself. "So much dick I took."

"Yeah. Impressive. Half a minute with a black cock in your throat," Malik summarized.

The short video ended with a fade to black. On OnlyFans, however, Freyja could check the full version. Never did she ever believe that she would lead to her watching herself being face fucked. She smiled shyly, studying her oral techniques.

"I think you're gonna love this job," Ogun's voice dipped into a low, soothing purr in her ear, making the hair on the back of her neck tingle." You're not just acting. There is a part of you that is Ivory Slave."

Somehow, she felt he was right. While browsing the gallery, she was so excited... She read the profile description of what she offered... custom-made videos... What the hell was cosplay? Then her eyes went to the subscription rates, 19.99 dollars per month with special offer bundles for those who purchase three, six months, or one year at a time.

Roughly, she would make thousands in less than a year.

Freyja concentrated on calm, steady breaths to conceal the fact that she was getting nervous. "Damn! That's awesome," she said with a big smile. "I'll pay my rent..."

"No way, girl. You gotta dream bigger than that," Ogun replied. "You're a bit of an unknown package but have the most epic tits in the industry since Autumn Falls. And unlike her, you're going to fuck only black! Trust me, this gorgeous booty is gonna make you famous."

While Ogun's left hand held her hand on the keyboard, his other hand casually skirted along her thighs, caressing her. Blushing, Freyja visited her OnlyFans photo gallery.

"Wait! My tattoo... someone might recognize it," she exclaimed, observing the small Valkyrie drawing on her hip.

Ogun exhaled smoke right in her face, chuckling. "Your father... does he know about this little proposition?" he asked, trying to read Freyja's reaction.

The blush immediately rose to Freyja's cheeks. She lowered her eyes, unable to meet his gaze.

"No... he doesn't know... and he mustn't find out," she responded in a whisper.

The black man nodded, still with that same smile. "What would your dad say if he ever saw this?"

"I... I don't know. He'd probably die on the spot," Freyja stuttered.

"I'm your daddy now," Ogun reminded her with a sharp tug on her luscious blonde hair. "Now tell Daddy what you are."

"Your little white slut," Freyja answered without further prompting, her entire focus narrowed down to his right hand skirting up and down her thighs, toying with the delicate panties fabric, tracing lazy circles over her pubic mound.

"You just needed an excuse, whittie. I'm glad that you found it." He hummed, his lips kissing along the tendrils of her neck. Then she felt him starting to probe at her pussy opening. "How many guys have you fucked?"

"O-only five," Freyja responded as a thick, black finger probbed past the outer pink lips of her pussy, discovering the wet heat that his touch had expedited in her.

The black man nodded. "I know you had a couple of boyfriends. Who else?"

"I-I... ohhh... oh, God," she stuttered, "Just... three black guys I met." Freyja sucked in a breath, lost in the way he was dragging his finger up and down her slit, collecting her moisture and spreading it all over her flushed and engorged lips.

"How old were you when you lost your virginity, Blondie?" Now Ogun moved slowly inside her, inching his finger in and out of her, pushing deeper and deeper with each pass.

"It was to my first boyfriend."

He grunted his approval as Freyja's hips began to follow his finger. It was as though her body had entirely escaped the control of her conscious thoughts and now only responded to Ogun's touch. A second finger joined the first, and he started pumping them slowly, deeper and deeper. Freyja moaned, long and low. He kissed down her neck as he scissored his fingers inside her, twisted his hand slightly from side to side, stretching her in new ways with every careful thrust.

"That's it," Ogun whispered, watching her open as he slid a third finger inside. "I want you to remember this, Freyja... This is my pussy now. No more white boys for you. Understood?"

"Ye-es," she muttered, head lolling back, and Ogun leaned away to play another video... of Freyja riding Malik on the couch yesterday night.

"Wow! It was a great fuck," said Malik.

"Yeah, look at her face. She's loving every inch of you, man!" Ogun added, and he gripped Freyja's waist, slid it up her side to cup her left breast, and began to thumb her nipple gently.

"It was s-o-o... one of the... best of my life," she groaned dreamily.

"That's black breeding, whittie," Malik stated. "Bareback is the purest, most primal form of sex. It's literally what nature put us on this Earth to do."

The Norse student shuddered with pleasure as Ogun's fingers churned inside her, curling up to press against her G-spot. She moaned louder and gasped.

"Oh... yeah! Finger my cunt." Freyja purred and spread her legs further. "Please..."

Three black digits began a steady, pulsating rhythm in and out of her. Ogun's movements grew rougher as her pussy relaxed around his ministrations. The sound of her wetness and his panting filled the room.

"Since we're being so direct, slut, allow me to continue..." Ogun said, his fingers thumping her sex. "Do you want more?"

"I-" Freyja hesitated, her eyues closed, feeling her heart beat in her chest, suddenly aware of the Pandora's box she could open. "Y-yeah. I do.. I want... more of you..."

"Of course, slut. But I'm not just here to fuck you. I'm here to sculpt you." He grinned, and in the screen reflection, the blonde saw the predator in him yet again.

"Let us run a train on you, ya know?" Asked Malik, sitting closer to her. Freyja's eyes bugged out.

Intrigued, she asked, "A run train?"

"Yeah, that's where we fuck you all at once."

Her eyes widened as she processed his words, her mind spinning, Ogun's fingers pumping into her. "You mean, both of you... in my vagina and ass?"

"Exactly, baby," Ogun grinned, his head tilting to look her in the eye even as his fingers wormed deeper inside her, causing her to gasp and clench tighter around the invading digits. "Now ride my cock like the slut you are," he ordered, shifting her on his lap so that he could pull down his shorts and freed his black cock. Freyja could feel it was resting against her slit, thick and hard and as improbably large.

She wasn't sure that her body was up to sex just yet, still recovering from yesterday's wild penetration. But the urge to give him pleasure was too strong, and she swung her leg over his lap to straddle him. She let out a long sigh of pleasure as she had slowly sunk onto his black cock, feeling it parting her pink folds and burrowing deep into her wet pussy. She bit back a moan, her head falling back onto his shoulder.

"Let's get that shirt off." Malik grabbed the bottom of it, and soon she stood there impaled on his massive dick, completely naked.

"I... I don't think you both can... can fit... on me..." Freyja stammered, and she felt a thrill go through her, but Malik just laughed, shaking his head, and brought his hand across her tits in a stinging slap. "Don't you worry about that, sweetheart. We'll make it work," Malik said.

Then Ogun's hands gripped her hips firmly, guiding her movements as she began to move, rolling her hips in circles, rocking up and down. Inch by inch, Ogun eased himself deeper, and Freyja felt like she ought to split in two, but the pain was nothing to the unbelievable sensation of fullness. Her back arching, she let out a soft cry as the head of his black cock pressed the entrance to her cervix.

"You're going to look absolutely beautiful being the cream filling in the Oreo," Ogun said, his grip on her so tight that it became painful.

Freyja's vaginal muscles clamped around his thick shaft as the words came from her mouth. "Oh, my Gog... Ogun... It's so good... I love your black cock..."

The young African American never felt more powerful than squeezing his mammoth black cock up Freyja's cunt, while she was moaning and gasping like a filthy slut. His father's views on white girls -- that they were all naturally subservient whores whose only redeeming quality was their ability to degrade themselves in their worship of black cock -- filtered through his mind. As a devout Muslim, his dad had encouraged him over the years to use white women as receptacles for the intense sexual aggression that was a natural part of being a true male. Ogun loved the power he had over Freyja. He would break her, destroy everything that she was until having her completely under his thumb. The very idea of turnning the most aloof to him, admirable, and unattainable Norse princess into his filthy whore was a massive turn on. With Regina, he had created a lucrative business around such passion.

"Mmmm. We could label that video as 'Nubile aryan teen double-penetrated by two BBCs,' you get me?"

"Yeah... bu-ut..." The first orgasm hit Freyja out of nowhere; her body shuddered with the sudden impact, her legs kicked around wildly as her pleasure grew, but Ogun held her down nicely. He was in complete control.

Freyja didn't get to enjoy it, not really; it happened too quickly, too soon. Her black lover was cupping both breasts in her hands, pinching, squeezing, and pulling her nipples.

"Shh, relax," Ogun murmured in a low, husky voice. He kissed the side of her neck. "I think we can arrange something very special.... you, me, and a good friend of mine. Your pussy and ass are gonna be the fuckin' death of us..." Ogun felt his dark balls tighten when he heard her moan, "Yes, Daddy," in the most innocent and seductive tone that he'd ever heard. His hips bucked up, hitting her cervix, making her gasp. "Your cum. Oh fuck, fill me with your cum," Freyja begged.

Wild slams up into her pussy made her shriek hopelessly, her eyes went down between her legs, on the dark, thick shaft that rammed its way up into her pristine, pink pussy. Ogun's heavy, hanging balls slapped against her and that sound mixed with her ass slapping against his lap. Their movements grew more rapid, her hips lifting up and down with an urgent rhythm. Ogun smirked at her desperate pleading, "The slutty Valkyrie wants her tight white pussy filled with my Congolese cum?"

She nodded her head frantically, her climax approaching swiftly, "Please, please. I know you want it too." She made a sound that was almost a moan, his dark hands on her waist urging her to move. Ass bouncing and almost twerking as she rode his cock, finally Freyja felt a telltale cock thorbbing and slammed herself down on his shaft, driving the black cock to the hilt.

"Perfect. White. Pussy." Ogun was able to get out before his sentence turned into a wild roar, his huge dickhead twitching and pulsing inside her tight pussy walls, and she could feel as he burst inside her, spitting hot cum into her ruined womb. Screeching in her native tongue in a fit of thrashing, babbling excitement, Freyja's eyes went wide, her head rolled back, her full breasts bouncing wildly, her hands digging at his thighs, wanting to feel him more inside her.

The Congolese stud buried itself in the hole to the root, making the pink lips close around it an airtight seal at her womb, and poured all of himself out into her, filling her to overflowing, as his release sloshed over her forbidden womb. Freyja's orgasms came in waves, one after the other, each one more revved up in intensity until she let out a spray of sweet nectar on the black thighs. Ogun's thick, rigid rod shot a gooey torrent of sperm into her Aryan cunt, causing her to squeal in a feral desire to the best African DNA.

"Oh fuck." Freyja moaned, her body writhing with pleasure, her pussy still clenching around his dark manhood. It was like Ogun had unlocked some hidden part of herself that she didn't even know existed.

"Who owns that cunt?" Ogun panted.

She instantly moaned, "You..."

Satisfied, he pushed her forward to stand and slapped her right buttock. "Your turn." Ogun stepped aside, raising his right hand for a fistbump, and the other black man returned it.

"Such an obsession with black cocks... We should replace that with devotion." Malik's voice was silky, onyx eyes darkened even more. Standing in front of her, his long dick was pointing straight up with veins that curled along every ridge and bump, somehow, bigger than she remembered. It was simply amazing in its might, and Freyja gave out a moan mixed with a gasp.

"You're going to love this," Malik whispered, his hand wrapping around her throat as he made her kneel.

A fat droplet of precum fell from the thick head, falling to stain the carpet below him, but neither of them seemed to pay it that much mind. Malik's and Freyja's eyes locked. Then she leaned down, placing a small peck to the penis base, taking all the time in the world to feel and taste every inch of it. Her nails traced along the outline of Malik's strong thighs as her mouth placed another gentle kiss to the thick head, tongue lashing across the slit. Then the Norwegian girl wrapped a soft pale hand around the base of the heavy cock, slowly jerking it up and down, drawing the fat droplets of precum out with each jerk of her wrist.

Freyja's pink tongue run downwards along the underside of the pulsing dark cock. The taste was delicious. She sucked his balls harder, one by one, forming a seal with her plump lips, and Malik's cock pulsed from where it rested, perched, on her forehead.

Then, Freyja used both of her small hands to spread the mixture of slime and precum along the dark shaft, glistering it, and Malik moaned again, arching her hips into her soft hands.

"Fuck!" A shiver ran down Malik's spine when she began to suck his dark cock from every possible angle, hollowing out her cheeks, with such zeal that wonderful slurping sounds echoed through the room. Her blonde hair fell over her face, and Malik arranged it behind her ears, and she responded by taking the glans in her mouth.

Freyja felt a shiver of pleasure as she felt his cock continue to swell in. Taking a deep breath through her nose, in one strong, steady movement, Freyja pushed herself foward, trying to take all his long black cock into her open mouth. Her soft, pink lips were stretched around his dark shaft until two inches slid past, then three... She did not pause until her cute nose was buried into his pubic hair, enveloping his dark manhood in her warm, soft throat.

"Yeah... Suck that cock, bitch... you white college whores love black cock, don't you? Yeah... Now you're choking on a brotha. Tell your daddy," Malik mocked.

The college student held still, adapting herself to the monstrous invasion; her eyes remained closed, breathing steadily through her nose. Malik grunted when she started to caress the gap between his buttocks with her fingers.

"Damn bitch!" The black man grunted, grabbing the base of his cock tightly, trying to choke off the flood of semen about to make its way down her throat. Malik couldn't hold it back. Both of his thick hands grasped Freyja's temples, squeezing them tightly. "Fuck! I'm gonna cum in your fucking mouth."

The college student swallowed down the stream of African seed as best as she could. Her mouth was rapidly filling with thick, salty sperm. It stuck in her throat and forced her to swallow several times over, until Malik slowly withdrew his long black stick from her throat, and the deep-purple glans slipped reluctantly from her lips. A few cum strands did drip out of the corners of her mouth and dripped down over the curve of her chin, and thick line of spit and cum connected her lips to the thick wet cock.

"Look at me!"

Freyja had to look up as he pulled her blonde hair roughly, and a new powerful rope of sperm shot out from the tip. The cock throbbed and jerked in his hand, semen streaking on each side of her angelic face. A big patch of it was warming her right cheek, and she could also feel it around her mouth and slowly running down her full breasts.

"God... you cum a lot." Panting, Freyja wiped away the sticky, black seed from her eyes and gathered into her mouth, swallowing it down, her gaze fixed on Malik's as he watched her devour his seed. The flavor was amazing. By far, the best cum she had ever tasted.

"We make such a good couple," Malik commented, looking down at Freyja from above. With his left hand, he collected some semen from the corner of Freyja's lips before shoving it back into her mouth.

By reflex, she sucked on his fingers while closing her eyes, giving her an incredibly perverse look at that moment. Malik rubbed his wet dick on Freyja's perfect features and began to slap her about the face. The more he spanked her face with his black shaft, the more she got into it. Freyja started puckering her lips to meet it on each thwack, smooching his black cock whenever he let go for a moment.

Then her phone rang.

"Shall I answer and tell your dad you can't talk now because you're blowing a black dick?" Malik asked.

"Ignore it," Freyja said. The phone noise eventually died away, and she fell back into focusing on what the black man was doing to her when the noise started up again. "Fuck," She cursed. "I'm sorry. I'll just..." She pulled away, digging into her bag and pulling out her cell phone. She brushed the wet hair from her face. "Hello... Mom?" She said, and an old woman answered.

"Hello, dear. Good news! We visit you next week."

"Oh. Great. I mean... great," Freyja answered.

"Yes! And I was hoping we could have dinner all, so we'd meet your boyfriend," her mother added.

Freyja startled. She hadn't told them anything. Her strict parents won't understand that she broke up with her boyfriend two months ago... they did not even know she had tattoos or smoked pot. Her heart was beating harder and faster in her chest, muddling her attempt to find the right words. "You wanna come to Detroit? I mean, next week?"

"Yes. Why not? That way we'll meet him," her mother's voice grew irritated.

People often described Freyja's mother as a kind woman who always put others before herself. But that sweet and gentle woman everyone else knew was an utter stranger to Freyja. Growing up under the watchful eye of a cold matriarch had shaped her in ways she would never admit. It was not a childhood of love, but of expectations... Every success was demanded, and every failure was punished.

"I see. Well, this is all so sudden..." She sandwiched the phone between her ear and shoulder while she put on her panties.

Chuckling, Ogun watched her intently, and the student tried to meet his gaze but couldn't keep eye contact for long.

"We're beginning to worry about you," her mother said through the line. "We thought you might need some company!"

"No.. I'm not... I mean... Sure!" Freyja muttered, chuckling nervously.

"By the way... Do you think your father will like your boyfriend?"

"Yes! I know Daddy will just love him. They're so similar in so many ways," Freyja answered and bit her lip.

"Really? How nice that he's so different from all your other boyfriends. They were all so... weird. Always talking that social justice nonsense."

"Well, he's not into political activism. He's... conservative."

"Awesome! Who would ever have thought you'd fall in love with someone... so normal. You've grown!"

"Yeah, everybody notices. Well, I'll call you later, Mom. Bye!" Freyja blew a kiss into the phone as was her habit, before glancing away, looking conflicted. "Look, I... I'm sorry. There's a problem that I need to deal with," she said to Ogun, typing a quick message before sighing and setting the phone away.

"It's fine," Ogun assured. "I get it, things come up."

"Yeah, look, I feel like a piece of shit doing this but I have to run off." Freyja sighed before standing up, beginning to get dressed, despite the uncomfortable wetness between her thighs. "Do you mind if I just... wash up quickly?"

"No, go ahead," said Malik, smiling. "It's the door by the kitchen."

Her pretty, cum-coated face blushing, Freyja grabbed her clothes and fled to the bathroom, her heavy breasts bouncing wildly. Once inside, she opened the lid of the toilet and sat herself on it, exhaling softly as a creamy stream of cum flowed freely into the bowl. The blonde brushed the hair out of her face and earused two fingers to spread her wet labia, looking down at her sensitive and swollen sex, watching with fascination as a thick, chunky waterfall of African semen began to pour from her pussy. She couldn't help the impulse to brought a hand down to her pussy to collect a palm-load of the dripping semen. It was extraordinarily thick, and she beheld it almost with reverence before extending her rosy tongue and licking the fat load off of her palm, filling her mouth with cum and then swallowing. Again, she slid a hand into her lips and moaned as she touched herself.

What the hell was happening to her? Her libido had been skyrocketing for days, since the gynecologist advised her to take a 30-day break from taking the contraceptive pills.

'I'm gonna be a teenager mom to a mixed-race baby,' she thought suddenly. Ogun had told her he would love to knock her up. Just before the climax, those words had evoked a forbidden fantasy, thrilling and alluring, but now, in postcoital cooling, the perspective was terrifying. Deep inside her womb, she could feel his black, potent seed making its way forth, searching for her unprotected eggs to create a new life. A black baby. Everybody would know it, and the social backlash would destroy her family.

Freyja realized that forbidden impulses had been happening since the beginning of time. Taking a woman of another kind and impregnating her with their offspring... no, the Norwegian student couldn't allow it.

She grabbed a piece of paper from the roll, wiping herself thoroughly before standing up, facing the mirror. Her reflection stopped her dead. She saw herself, cheeks slightly flushed, hair messy, semen on her face and breasts, her makeup was smeared to hell. The mascara she applied with care yesterday ran down her cheeks, and her lipstick was completely gone, except for a few, faint smudges adorning her chin.

A wave of shame washed over her as she washed her face. She knew she had crossed a line that would be hard to retrace. After a hairstyling that lasted several minutes, she was satisfied with the result, setting the comb aside. When her gaze fell on her cute dress, she groaned. Something whitish stained the red fabric, droplets quite noticeable. 'What a waste of a good dress,' she thought bitterly, smoothing the hem of the short number. 'My dad bought this dress for my graduation party.'

Barely enough time to use all the wet wipes at her disposal to blot away the evidence of their fucking and pray nobody will notice the little that is left. Then, heels dragging against the floor tiles, she made her way to the living room.

Malik was grinning when he showed her the camera. "I don't think we need to edit it too much. We should just make them look like home videos, more believable that way, don't you think?"

"Whatever you want," said Freyja. She hadn't realized that they had recorded the quickie and the blowjob. "Bye!"

*****

The moment she stepped out of the building, the oppressive atmosphere dissipated like a fog lifting. The crisp morning air was a welcome reprieve as she made her way home, and her thoughts grew clearer with each step she took away from Malik's home.

Her heels made a sharp, rhythmic sound as she walked across the sidewal. The neighborhood was overwhelmingly black, and Freyja was too aware of how her sexy, morning-after red dress looked... White girls only came to these districts dressed like that for one thing. The gangs on street corners huddled close, puffing on rolled-up joints, and heads turned as she passed. White smiles on dark faces were always mischievous until Freyja found herself staring up at the Walgreens sign, willing to get it over with. Another group of black youngters was congregating outside the store, chatting and smoking. Before entering, she tried to cover the bruises, her jacket primly buttoned up to cover the bruise blossoming on her pale neck. The black men's eyes were locked fiercely onto her as she entered anyway.

"Hello. I need Plan B," she muttered and tapped her credit card on the counter, gazing around and sighing heavily. An African American pharmacist appeared to ask her a short series of personal questions, with a barely concealed smile. Freyja answered them, shrugging. She knew what she looked like with her messy hair, a sexy dress with suspicious stains, and carring the unmistakable scent of sex --sweat, cum, and pussy.

Just like she knew what he was thinking.

She had dutifully taken her contraceptive pill every day for nearly three years. When her gyconologist recommended taking a break, she was relieved to let her hormones regulate themselves. Such relief must be short-lived, as Ogun and Malik had taken her body, and now she found herself terrified that the black pharmacist asked her who had fucked her, or how many, or how old she was. Thoughts swirled and tumbled into a tug of dread deep in her stomach.

Eventually, Freyja answered all the handful of questions, quietly paying and heading home, staring at the box in her hands for what felt like an eternity. She just needed to get this done and then move on.

She trusted Ogun, and she was not sure why. And as much as Freyja hated to admit it, she had grown on Malik, too. He was annoying, way too cocky, with not enough humanity in his eyes ―but there was someone noble inside. Deep, deep down.

It was Freyja's weekend tradition to have breakfast in a small corner bakery and coffee shop close to her building. Though it was a Saturday morning, there was only the owner inside, along with a few other quiet souls trying to find their muse at the bottom of their coffee mug.

Freyja groaned as she sat down at the counter and shot the mature Mexican owner an easy-going smile, "The usual but double."

"A hard night?" He asked with a malevolent grin, going to prepare the chocolate muffins. "¿O has cenado con Pancho?"

"Come on, Pedro. You know, we don't talk about my sex life." Freyja winked, leaning her forearm on the counter, and glanced outwards into the street.

"I got some tequila under the shelf, if you need it," he chuckled. But Freyja was collecting her thoughts, her chin resting on the palm of her hand while her feet were swinging back and forth in the air.

Few minutes later, she was enjoying her coffee with muffins when, across the coffe shop, she noticed a interracial couple carrying a stroller with a caramel skinned baby. The black man met Freyja's curious eyes. When he smiled, the blonde felt a warmth of desire in her; she cursed that strange feeling in her stomach and forced herself to look away once more. No, it could not be jealousy she was feeling.

As she ate the fucking muffins, her phone buzzed with notifications. The PornHub video had spread like wildfire, the comments were already rolling in. Thoughtful, she asked herself if she would keep going with the OnlyFans thing. $3,000 a month was a lot to walk away from.

Arriving back at her flat, she quietly made her way to the hall, hopeful that it was early enough that her roommate Alice wouldn't be awake yet. A sigh of relief escaped when she saw the living room empty and hurried to her room. Freyja was finally able to remove her dress and slump down on the bed. She fell asleep there, arm and leg hanging off the edge, her head comfortably craned against the pillow.

Two hours later, her sleep came to a sudden halt when he heard the front door slam shut, the sound of high heels echoing through the hallway. She managed to pull herself out of bed, her whole body aching, especially her pussy. She tossed her clothes in the machine and then decided to take a shower to ease her aching muscles. As she walked through the hallway, she could hear someone in the bathroom. The blonde imagined it was Alice, her flatmate, but as she approached, she suddenly realized the door was open... and stopped in surprise. Bobby, Alice's fuck buddy, was standing before the toilet. His baggy jeans were undone and open, and he was holding a very large cock in his hand, pissing. It had to be eight inches long, fully limp, just hanging there.

Bobby looked up, staring at her, and did nothing... just stood there, not attempting to hide it or shut the door or anything. He met her hazel eyes and stared at her, face calm, betraying no emotion. Freyja looked away from his eyes, back down at the cock, then away, mumbling, "Sorry." And heading back to her bedroom in a hurry, her big breasts jiggling sexily under the sweatshirt.

Blushing, she waited in her room for Alice's black friend to finish and she hurried inside to take a shower. As the warm water trickled between her breasts, an itch underneath her skin burned, so she turned the temperature down even more. It helped a little, but it didn't get rid of it. So Freyja stood under the cold spray and willed the exciment away. Her skin eventually began throbbing, so she had to get out of the shower.

When Freyja got out of the bathroom, Alice was sitting in the couch of the living room and watched as she walked to her room with a towel wrapped around her body. Her eyes scanned over the bruises that were left against her pale skin, mostly over her neck and shoulders. Alice averted his gaze to the TV, giving her some privacy while she got dressed.

The Norse student quickly changed into her favorite home attire. Dressed casually in a hoodie and sweats, she moved into the kitchen to make a tea.

"So," a smug voice came from down her back, "did you get lucky last night? Did you finally take my advice?"

Freyja turned around and gave her a knowing smile. Because of her complexion, people sometimes assumed Alice was Chinese or Korean, two countries they associated with 'fair-skinned Asians'. In fact, she was actually half Japanese and half Caucasian; she had her black hair cut in a jagged bob, and she was attractive, though in a different way than Freyja was. Alice was the skinny brunette knockout girl next door.

"Yes," Freyja sighed, relenting, "I had sex last night." She rolled her eyes when the excited little squeal came out of her friend.

"Well, how was it?" Alice asked. "You look like you're auditioning for a zombie movie."

Freyja smiled, "It was the best sex I've ever had." She had just sat down at the table when Bobby appeared at the door.

"What are you up to, ladies?" He asked.

"Just girl chat," Alice chimed in. "Gossip and sex, of course!"

Freyja looked up at him, then blushed and looked away, not sure what to say. "Hum... er... Bobby, I... I'm sorry..." Her stuttered apology trailed off.

"No worries," he answered, smiling.

"Bobby's dick is like a lethal weapon. I think he even needs a permit to carry it around on his person," Alice mocked her. "There's no need to be so embarrassed," she added, dragging her from her thoughts. "You know... things like this happen when you live with others. One day, you may walk in to find us naked on the couch..."

"Oh, god, no."

"Just take it in stride...," Bobby mocked. "I'm not a pervert."

"A pity." Freyja pushed herself off the chair, trying to hide the groan she almost let slip in. Her flatmate caught it, but kept quiet.

"It's a Saturday, you don't have to go to the gym," said Alice.

"I need to. Keeps my routine in check. If I miss a day, it'll trip me up."

"It's just one day... relax, you deserve it."

Freyja sighed as she realised her friend was right: she won't be able to visit the gym without feeling all kinds of aches. So Alice cleaned up the table, then took the trash out, put on the load of washing she had waiting to be done, and even remade her bed for her, knowing that Freyja certainly wouldn't have the strength or energy to do any of it herself.

"Why don't you help me, Bobby?" Alice tried to keep it friendly-sounding. It was the least he could do, and if he truly was grateful for the meal, he should want to.

But Bobby just laughed. "Yeah, but I really hate cleaning. It's so cool that you like doing it. It makes the division of labor so much easier when one person likes it."

Alice put her head down, rubbed her temples, and sighed. "Ok... it's fine, Bobby. Forget it," she said. "I was going to ask whether you guys wanted to go out to lunch. I can't be bothered to cook, too."

Freyja kept looking at her, considering her options before replying, "I'm tired if I'm honest. You can go, guys, if you want, but I'll stay in and get takeaway."

"No way," said Alice. "You're going to come with us... now!"

Alice took her to Adriano's Restaurant. As an underpaid waitress, Freyja had nothing against Italian cuissine and the food was good. She quietly followed Alice and Bobby to the back of the building, where she located a booth in the corner, away from the other customers. The Norse student didn't have any makeup on whatsoever, and all that adorned her body was a faded pelisse skirt, a white tank top, with a suede jacket. Yet, even with such simple attire, everybody couldn't help but notice her seductive Scandinavian beauty.

Bobby sat close to her, their thighs stuck together, with Alice in front of them. With each touch, Freyja could feel a spark run up her spine. She breathed deeply, inhaling his male scent greedily, and something low down in her belly stirred to life. Normally, she was so shy, but something primal was stirring in her. The waitress smiled and made her way over, and they requested three beers to start with while they looked over the menu.

"I've heard their Margaritas are delicious," Alice commented, not looking up at Freyja, who was absorbed in observing Bobby's biceps out of the corner of her eye. "Do you want to share?"

"What?" Freyja shuddered, and the soft blonde hairs on her arms stood up.

"The pizza," Alice stated.

"Sounds good to me," Freyja responded, with a nervous smile. She knew there was no reason for her heart to be beating like it was, but she couldn't help it. Then, she stole a peek downward, seeing for herself her pointed nipples pressing insistently against the cotton fabric of her shirt.

The meal continued, in an awkward manner, Freyja's eyes darting over to the black man, between bites. There was a growing sexual tension between all three. However, nobody made a move. Her flatmate was sitting opposite her, but was busy thumbing her phone while chewing on the plastic straw of her drink.

"Still down for a double date?" Alicia raised her phone to show him a snap of herself with three white guys. Her boyfriend, Albert, stood next to her. Freyja still didn't get why she was dating him while she fucked guys around... he was a pathetic weakling, but whatever. The other two looked good, but neither of them was doing it for her.

"Where'd you find these guys?" Freyja asked.

"Friends of a friend." Alice showed her another picture, and Freyja shrugged. There wasn't any excitement there at all.

"He doesn't do it for me," the blonde said.

"You really are daydreaming about black guys, aren't you?" Alice mocked her. "Where's your Aryan pride?"

"Shut up, bitch."

"Hey, no worries. We all have a type!"

After lunch, they decided to go shopping. They were cruising the mall, from shop window to shop window, until they found themselves staring into a lingerie store. Bobby pushed his elbow into Alice's side in a playful manner. "What do you think about that?"

"What? Y-you want me to wear that?" She answered.

"I think it'd suit you well," Bobby said with a wink.

They ended up at the lingerie boutique and the shopkeeper told them, "Dressing room's over there. Let me know if you need any help," then returned her attention to the cell phone.

There were no other customers. The place was pleasantly silent except for smooth soul music. Freyja browsed through a rack of lingerie sets and selected a few, forcing herself to stay within a reasonable price range.

Alice reached for another clothing rack and pushed her selection aside, handing Freyja another set she had chosen. "Try that one", she said, in a tone of voice that didn't allow for dissent.

Freyja hesitated and, taking a deep breath, she took that lingerie set. The 'dressing room' was only some heavy curtains hung up for privacy, so Freyja couldn't see themself in the clothes she was about to try on before passing Alice's sharp gaze regardless. Her fingers shook as she unhooked the skirt and shirt, and she dropped them to the floor

Soon, Freyja was wearing the lingerie set. "How's this?" She asked with a timid grin on her lips. Unbidden, she turned around slowly so that they could see all of her.

"You look incredible," Alice remarked as she stepped backward.

Alice had chosen a lace bra, a garter belt, silk stockings, and matching thongs. The upper side of her large breasts oozed above the top of the garment, her erect nipples poking through the thin material, and below, in her wist, the blue satin belt stocked four straps extended down over her creamy white thighs, grasping the dark silk stockings. The black thong barely covered her sex; her strip of pubic hair was visible through the transparent fabric, making her look even more obscene than she had been entirely undressed.

"Wow!" Bobby gasped, his wide eyes roaming all over her bare curves. Unable to resist, dropping her gaze to the crotch of Bobby's jeans, Freyja noticed the thickness of his erection, outlined behind the zip of his fly, and his obvious girth, combined with her uncharacteristically brazen behaviour, made the blood rise in her cheeks.

As Freyja drew again the curtains of the dressing room, she felt the excitement simmer to the surface and slid her hand into the front of her thong, she dipped her fingers into the engorged dampness of her warm pussy, jerking instantly at the pressure. Slicking the moisture over her clitoris in swift, insistent circles, she tipped her head back against the wooden wall, her limbs convulsing and her throat vibrating with a silent moan as she came around her own fingers.

When Freyja changed back into her clothes, her friends were paying for a sexy corset. At the cashier, the blonde student was shocked at what the price tags told her. The total was close to 500 dollars, and the college student bite her lips. After pondering her thoughts for a moment, she convinced herself that she need it for her OnlyFans. It was just an investment. So she presented her credit card and pay. Alice and Bobby were strolling ahead, Freyja caught up to them, and her flatmate caught her attention to a tattoo parlor.

"What if we all get matching tattoos?" Alice asked. For a moment, it was silent, and the Norwegian girl was the first to answer. "To be honest, I've wanted to get another one."

It was true. She had been thinking about it for a few days, so she thought it was the right moment to get it, and before Bobby could say anything, the two girls were inside.

He shook his head and said, "You'll see... In two months, they'll come back asking if they can get them removed."

The tattoo shop was seedy as hell, located in a side alley of the mall with one flickering neon board above the door, and the windows were hammered shut with old wood. Inside, it smelled like ink, coffee, and bleach. The interior was dark with black and white tiles on the floor and brown timber on the walls, and multiple framed art pieces.

The artist was a large black man in his 50s, old enough to be Freyja's father. He was huge, towering over even Bobby; he had grey dreadlocks, accentuating his Caribbean heritage, and he was heavily tattooed on all areas that could be seen, including his wide face. "Welcome," he said, smiling wildly. "I'm Caleb."

The deep male voice had Freyja almost whimpering, the timber of it making ripples of want course through her body. That had never happened before, not just from hearing a male voice, and she was spontaneously driven to smile back at him.

"Hi. We'd like to get a tattoo, if it's possible." Freyja took his massive hand to shake it, conscious of the skin contrast and how it engulfed hers. Their eyes met, and she knew instantly what he was thinking.

"Did you get a chance to look over our samples?" Asked the tattooist. Everything about him screamed Alpha male, from the burning intensity in his eyes to the purposeful way he strode towards her. Freyja couldn't help but be mesmerized by those dark eyes. When she shook her blonde head, Caleb led them to the receptionist's desk and spread charts and samples. "Have a seat, and decide what you'd like to have done," he suggested. "Is it your first tattoo by chance?"

"No, I've two," Freyja answered.

"So you have already experienced the well-known tattoo pain," Caleb said. "May I ask your age? I wouldn't like to be impolite, but..."

"I'm 21," replied Freyja, sitting on a chair.

The old black artist nodded. "Okay, let's see. What do you have in mind? Do you have a design? Or do you want to describe it?"

"Something simple... How about a cute animal?" Freyja suggested.

"First-timers often pick something simple. A dove, a kitten, or maybe a spider?"

"Oh, that sounds nice... but I'm set on a bunny."

"What kind of rabbit?" Caleb asked, but he knew exactly how it had to be.

"A white one. With a snowflake," Freyja answered, and the black artist smiled. Somehow, he knew all about her kinks; she knew he knew; he knew she knew he knew.

"A Snowbunny? Sure, but I would warn you... white ink doesn't show up that well on pale skin. Where would you like it?" He asked, and Freyja pulled the waistband of her skirt down and pointed to a spot an inch below her panty line. "Size?"

"Two inches tall?" That she asked it as a question.

"I see. I can draw it symmetrically to the pretty Valkyrie figure."

"It's Freyja..., a Norse goddess. She was in charge of love, fertility, battle, and death. Freyja is my name."

"Awesome, Freyja. Tattoos are a great way to express your true self, right?" Caleb stated slyly and patted the padded table, "Sit on the edge of the tattoo bed," with a firmness that she hadn't heard before. "And take off your skirt."

Slowly, Freyja's hands slid up to the opening of her skirt and undid the three buttons, glancing right and left as she did so, her blush spreading across her chest and neck. She sat at the edge of the padded table, arching her back slightly, as she watched him pull out a set of purple gloves and begin stuffing his oversized hands into them.

"Open your legs, sweetheart." This time, Caleb's words were undoubtedly an order.

The Norwegian girl obeyed; her black panties were almost transparent, and her outer lips opened with a soft, wet slap. The rosy-fleshed orchid was wonderfully open to his dark gaze. Freyja felt completely exposed in front of the mature black man. The crotch of her tiny panties glistened, wet with her excitement. Her heart was fluttering and her pussy tingled with excitement. She watched Caleb's massive black hand dip down between her pale thighs and drag down her panties enough to give him room to work.

Caleb had placed a pillow beneath her head so she could get a view of what he was doing. "This will sting, lady, so be prepared..."

But Freyja was peacefully looking at the ceiling. "Not really... my other tattoo was more painful."

The mature tattooist lifted his wide face for a second to look at her, but accidentally pushed the needle deeper, and the blonde let out a soft groan and squirmed a little. His other hand grasped her hip and held her in place.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't make it on purpose." Apologizing, Caleb quickly went back to look at his work. Freyja was wet, she could feel it now, and the warmth radiating from her cunt was slowly spreading throughout the rest of her body. Her nipples reacted by immediately hardening. Why was the pain so exciting?

"I guess I'm a bit nervous," she said. "This ink is important to me."

"We both know what this is really about. Don't we, whooty girl?" He asked. One of Caleb's hands made its way downward. Freyja watched its descent down her smooth abdomen and to her freshly-shaven mound. He was doing the tattoo lower than she had asked for, practically on his pubis. Marking her sex, she thought.

"You're becoming what your parents scorned. A white slut who goes with niggers, right?" Smiling, Caleb stared at her moist panties. Freyja felt as if every inch of her body was super-sensitive as she watched those dark fingers move across her pale body.

"Yes," the answer was instant. Freyja watched him, bending over her, gun in hand, slowly poking at the reddening skin of her pubis. His dreadlocks fell in front of his eyes, and every time he stopped to wipe away the little beads of blood, he had to throw his head back, flipping his hair away and out of his face.

"You have a long way off that yet, whittie," Caleb muttered, like talking with himself. "You don't even know what this means."

As the needle buzzed against her skin --so close to her soaked sex--, Freyja tried to focus on her breathing, as her panties felt increasingly damp. The thoughts of being under this black man's massive frame were driving her wild. Her pussy continued to moisten at the pain, she felt Caleb's breath on her vaginal lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she admired his ink-covered dark body, a cobweb tattoo on the elbow.

"Have you been in prison?" Freyja asked.

"Yeah, for 22 months," Caleb commented. "Not for being a rotten crook... I happened to be a fall guy. But I learned the tattoo trade there. Now, I'm thankful I still have a reputation to precede me... as a bitchbreaker."

"Bi-bitchbreaker?"

"Most white guys in jail end up as hos and cocksuckers, and I was the best sphincter unblocker," the tattoist laughed. "I'm not into that gay shit, but, you know, it was prison, and there were no girls around."

Eventually, the black artist peeled himself away from the tattoo table, setting down the gun and cleaning the skin area. "What do you think?" He asked, holding up a mirror so she could see the finished tattoo. Freyja stared at the tiny white bunny embracing a snowflake over her bald sex, and felt a strange mix of pride, fear and excitement. It was small and subtle, but it meant something.

"Lovely," she answered, her fingers reaching to caress the new brand.

"Sexy as fuck. Brothas will love that view as they fuck it," Caleb laughed softly.

Freyja blushed, feeling another throb of arousal deep inside her. She felt conditioned to take all degrading sexual comments from Black men as compliments. Maybe they truly were. Other white girls would never do this, right?

When Freyja's gaze turned, Alice was showing her a tiny tattoo on her wrist that Caleb's assistant had made: three small black characters, "BBC," and a red heart.

"She finally did it," Bobby said, raising his eyebrows.

"Of course I did," Alice laughed. "Small tattoo, big statement."

Freyja bent over when she noticed Caleb starting to layer on the ointment.

"Sunscreen to help protect the tattoo from the sun," he explained. "The aftercare instructions are written on this paper, so don't lose it."

The artist wheeled back on his chair, moving himself away from Freyja, and Bobby went over.

"What if she ends up regretting it?" He argued.

"She won't," Caleb reassured, peeling the gloves off his hands.

When everything was done and Freyja got dressed up again, they walked to the exit, and Caleb spoke again. "Don't hesitate to contact me for anything." Before closing the door, he turned to look appreciatively at Freyja and asked, "What if I ask you to have a drink together?"

The blonde girl blushed and stuttered while replying, "I don't think it's a good idea. I should rest. Maybe for another time." She gave him a big smile again, and the black man couldn't do anything but smile back and walk home.

Once they returned to their shared flat, Freyja closed the door of her room and sat on the bed, her pubis still stinging slightly, looking around, trying to find something to occupy herself. From somewhere in the apartment, the quiet was broken by the ragged, uneven sound of shallow gasps and wet, stuttered moans. Alice and Bobby were fucking again.

Through the thin wall that separated the rooms, Freyja could hear almost everything; the plaster was so flimsy that every word and sound from next door rang clear. She heard what sounded like kissing and then the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle being undone. The voices were low and muffled, but she could make out Bobby saying, "Get on all fours."

The bed in the next room started to creak and Freyja's pussy tingled in response. Bobby's grunts were stifled but unmistakable, surely his huge black cock was fucking the living daylights out of her friend. The Norse student could envision his strong hips slapping against her flatmate's ass-cheeks as he pounded into her, his massive balls banging up against the confluence of their groins. Over and over, Bang, Bang, Bang... The tempo picked up, and Alice started to cry. Then Freyja heard a soft whoosh sound immediately followed by a moan of pain, as if it were smacks of a hand rather than slaps of thigh against buttocks.

Freyja's ears strained to catch each sound while her heart raced. Their fucking felt like an earthquake. Contrary to what he seemed, Bobby was an aggressive lover, forceful and strong. Alice tried to hide her screams, but they escaped through her teeth as her bed rocked back and forth and her juices stirred up inside the wet pussy.

After another minute of even more violent bed-shakings, Bobby pronounced a visceral growl as Freyja's sweet flatmate cussed and muttered racial slurs like she had never heard before.

Eventually, silence, apart from her plaintive whimpers following the hard fucking. With trembling hands, Freyja took her laptop and lit a joint. She drew deeply and coughed so hard her eyes watered. Her nipples pulsed, and she noticed her sex was wet too. 'I'm becoming a nympho,' she thought, and decided to promote her OnlyFans profile to have something else in mind.

In a matter of minutes, she was armed with a new Instagram, Reddit and X. Some pictures were needed. She wasn't stupid enough to post her face, and she didn't have many sexy images because usually her ex took the shots of her. So she took a shitty tripod from some dollar store and put her phone on it. Pulling her shirt off, she tossed it aside, quickly followed by her skirt and shook her hair out, the blonde locks bouncing in rhythm with her tits while taking her new lingerie set out of the bag.

Smoking the joint while she got dressed, her mind turning hazy as she lounged, her full breasts shifting beneath the sexy bra. As she relaxed into the high, Freyja started posing, sitting on the bed with her legs wide open, showing her recent tattoo and her blonde hair covering most of her face. Her shoulders were pushed back, accentuating her full breasts in a way she had never seen them before. The lace straps of her garter belt looked extra crisp against her freshly pale skin.

She selected a couple of images and applied some filters. The outcome looked like some image you might see on the cover of a magazine, not a picture of an anonymous twenty-year-old student. On her social media, she typed a message: 'Recently marked as a black-only girl. It's not a trend, it's a life statement.' With a deep breath, she hit post, and soon she was officially a Snowbunny on Instagram, Reddit, Blacktowhite and X. Any incel with a smartphone could subscribe to her OnlyFans.

Almost immediately, her phone buzzed, and a nervous shock ran through her. A wave of compliments and begging for more stroked her female ego. She loved it so much, even if it came from total, possibly creepy, strangers.

John666: "I jacked off to your cunt."

Archie69: "How about you do a little roleplay for me?"

Whiteloser: "You're a hot bbc slut."

Blackstud_81: "I'd bury my black cock between those fucking tits and still have inches left to fuck your mouth."

And a ton of uncommented dick pics.

It was easy cash. All she needed to do was keep her real identity a secret. She was so excited that she couldn't sleep... After some hesitation, she abandoned herself to the fantasies. With a heavy sigh, she reached into her bedside table, turned on her vibrator, and worked herself into a mess of slick and throaty moans. Her inner walls clamped around nothing, and while this release was just what she needed to sleep, it wasn't what her body was screaming for.

*****

The morning after, Freyja scarfed down a light breakfast as she packed her backpack for the day's classes. Fresh out of her morning shower, she had been gazing at her reflection in the bath mirror. It happened while shaving her legs... It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, made all the easier with a razor and shaving cream already in her hands. Soon her bush was gone. She had shaved it off, and nothing remained on her bare, smooth crotch. The moment she realized what she was doing, the job was already half done, and she must finish it.

The Snowbonny tattoo looked awesome close to her new bald pussy. Her panties wouldn't cover it, it was a mark that would remain hidden. The simple thought of being in a bikini on the beach felt dangerous and thrilling. Her parents wouldn't understand its meaning, and most of her friends wouldn't either. But if someone did... the possibility of discovery sent her heart racing, even now. Her attitude had become slightly brattier, more challenging, and she didn't know why.

Quickly, she dressed in washed skinny jeans and delicately adjusted her maroon silk blouse, revealing just enough skin to catch eyes without ever crossing into provocation --dressing to hide her full breasts tended to be a challenge--, she put on some eyeliner and lip gloss. Her blonde hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, with a few stray strands framing her face, giving her an even more innocent and endearing look. She accessorized her raw femininity with uncomplicated jewellery: large silver hoops on her ears and two piercings, another act of rebellion against her strict parents.

Her roommate Alice was nowhere to be seen, so she completed her morning daily ritual in silence before heading out the door. The college commute wasn't long, and an hour later, Freyja was seated in his first class of the day. While the subjects were interesting, she was sore and tired and couldn't get out of her headspace long enough to learn anything. After a trip to the campus cafeteria, where she ate alone, Freyja headed to the library to work with Andrew Smith on their group project, her blonde hair gently waving over her shoulders as she walked through the university hallways. Whether younger or older, students couldn't help but watch her pass, captivated by a seductive blend of her natural beauty and mature sophistication.

American universities baffled her. Fraternities and sororities did not exist in Norway, and the American college films she had watched left her a strong impression of college sex and party culture, feeding false expectations that she was missing out on something that probably never existed. All Freyja's free time actually went to working and studying, and all her savings went toward paying for college. She couldn't even say college had cultivated relationships or any kind of meaningful connections with the exception of Alice.

Students chatted in clusters, laughter echoing off the red brick buildings, and the only thing that bugged her was the current topic on campus. Whispers about Brigitte's strange disappearance. She had overheard it in the cafeteria line and, outside the lecture hall, a guy was muttering about "that cute nerd who went missing two weeks ago". Freyja passed a poster with Brigitte's photo stuck to the wall. Saddened to remember, she studied her yearbook picture, taken a few weeks earlier: a lovely, brunette, blue-eyed girl with a heart-melting smile.

When Freyja turned around, she stopped short when she saw her ex-boyfriend Eric in the hallway. What the fuck was he doing here? She felt her heart hammering inside her chest, her throat drying instantly.

"Why are you here?" Her words were bitter, anger beaming in her eyes.

"Hey, sweetheart. Been waiting for you," Eric said. "I miss you, love." He leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek, but Freyja turned from him. This sent a flash of rage through him and his right hand grabbed her arm.

"Leave me alone," Freyja said, but he ignored her.

Eric Boyle couldn't stand a no. He was one of those fuck boys who had everything: a rich family, top grades, good looking... He seemed to be respectful, too. Even when he visited Freyja's shitty apartment, he didn't do anything to make her uncomfortable. They would cuddle on the couch, watch crappy movies, talk and joke. Normal things a couple did... until Freyja discovered him having sex with her best friend.

"I think she asked you to leave her alone." Andy's voice came out of nowhere. Then he grabbed Eric's arm and pulled it back to force him to release Freyja.

Andy wore sleek black pants and a soft tan sweater. He was handsome, and Freyja had liked him from the first second, although he was a complete mess of a human being. But he had a really simple, strong set of moral convictions.

"Touch her again, and I'll punch you. Now run along," Andy said, glaring coldly at Eric. He reluctantly released her, slowly rose, and went. "You alright?" Andy asked.

"Yes, thank you," Freyja answered, fixing her shirt. "I could hug you."

Andy giggled and replied, "I'm a tough guy, I don't get hugs."

"Sure. Let's work..."

The library was buzzing with students. As they briefly pondered which open seat to take, Freyja was caught off guard by a pair of dark eyes across the room that seemed to gaze directly into her soul. Hunched over a table, a tall black man had a crowd of students around him, and he watched Freyja.

"Sit," Andy said. "I'll bring some drinks. What would you like?"

"A Coke is fine," Freyja answered, sliding into the nearest free seat to the black teacher, fidgeting with her books. Andy came back soon and sat beside her.

"I like your hair. It's longer than last year." He handed her a Coke.

"Do you? Oh, Thanks. I thought I'd grow it out and see how it looked," Freyja turned to dig around in her bag, slung over the back of the chair, and took her glasses.

"You wear glasses?" Andy asked, surprised.

"Mhm," Freyja hummed. "I only need them when my eyes are getting strained. I usually keep them in my bag."

"You look hot. Not gonna lie," he said.

"I highly doubt that," said Freyja, smiling. "Um, Andy, I'd like to ask a question. A personal one. It's important."

"Spill."

"Could you be my boyfriend?" Freyja's words dropped momentarily, and Andy blinked twice, his mouth hanging open for a second.

"I, um, what?"

"Sorry," Freyja muttered, shaking her head. "That came out wrong." She managed a shaky laugh, desperately trying to mask the warmth rushing to her cheeks.

"What do you mean?" Andy asked, jaw clenched slightly.

"It's just... I need you to pretend to date me."

"Pretend." He repeated the word that clung bitterly in the back of his mind, voice steadier than he would have expected.

"Yeah." Freyja sounded tired now. "My parents..." She continued quietly, eyes trained firmly ahead. "They were pushing me to find someone. They'll visit me next week, and I haven't had the courage to tell them that I've broken up with Eric."

"I understand," Andy said, already understanding. He hoped she didn't notice the way his shoulders slumped fractionally.

"They think I'm wasting my time here..." Her voice catches slightly. "Just not being who they expect," she added bitterly.

Andy's brow furrowed in quiet empathy, as he knew Freyja's parents vaguely.

"And I'm the one who came to mind," he said, voice deliberately neutral. "Why?"

Freyja's eyes flick back to his. "Because... I trust you. It'll be only..."

"How long for?" He asked.

"I don't know yet. But you'd meet them next weekend," she said. "Dinner on Saturday. Maybe a talk about our old rivalry about who get better grades."

Andy forced a smile. "Okay. I'm in."

"I'll owe you." Freyja's whole body seemed to relax. "Thanks. Seriously."

Her friend nodded, biting the inside of his cheek, while Freyja's were burning again, but it was no longer from the cold outside.

They settled down to work on the project, while the murmur of an impromptu lecture echoed in the quiet library. The black professor, an obstetrician and gynecologist, charismatic and articulate, discussed themes that ignited the minds of his ten students. Almost all women, cleavage showing here and there, full makeup for a 17:00 class. They addressed the intersections of race, sex relationships, and societal norms, challenging preconceived notions about acceptance and procreation. Dr. Hardwood's words were thought-provoking and daring, the air was thick with silent glares.

"In ethology studies, animals are sometimes assigned ranks. The male in the highest rank is designated as the Alpha, and the rest of the individuals in the same social group show deference or subordinate behaviors towards him," he explained.

"The Alpha is the cocky one, the Beta is a pussy," joked a pale, beautiful gothic girl, eye-fucking her black professor.

"There is a widespread misunderstanding about the alpha/beta dichotomy," Dr. Darkwood pointed out. "It's believed that a Beta male is a submissive unable to get the attention of females, but he's actually the next most ferocious and aggressive male after the Alpha. The lowest caste of the hierarchical society is the omega. They are subordinate to all others and can't have offspring."

Freyja looked up from her book and frowned. Was Dr. Hardwood staring at her? No, she must have just assumed that. He was staring in her direction, not at her... but then, she discovered his dark eyes finding hers, holding her gaze, and she felt a heat spread through her body. It was a subtle dance of power Freyja had never experienced before.

"According to 'The Selfish Gene' by Richard Dawkins, genes are the basis of heredity in sexual reproduction, and those that provide survival or reproductive advantages will tend to be inherited by an increasing number of individuals," Dr,. Darkwood continued. "Therefore, the best evolutionary female strategy is not having sex with only a loyal, hardworking omega male, but with the most attractive Alphas who are most sexually successful... because her sons will be sexually successful as well. This reproductive behaviour implies there will be many omegas unwittingly investing in parental effort in offspring that are not genetically their own, namely the cuckolds."

Freyja was sitting next to Andy, both deeply focused on the papers they had decided to study, when a notification popped up on her phone and she cursed herself. She forgot to activate the blocking device on the OnlyFans app to avoid any embarrassment if someone looked into her phone. She discreetly checked the private messages and discovered it was Ogun.

@Ebony_Master: "Cute new pic, Ivory. If you're going to do more like that, you'd need a better phone. ;-)"

Certainly, Freyja had already begun writing up a wish-list for herself: a new phone with a decent camera, some new lingerie and sexy clothes... Her subscribers mostly seemed to be lonely old men or horny geek boys. She needed to keep them hungry, desperate for her attention. It seemed her last picture had become very popular, and dirty comments were already rolling in. The compliments and begging for more stroked her female ego.

@Whiteloser: "Hello, little slut. Want to make me happy? Send me a pic of your bare, tattooed pussy. If you do it in the next 10 minutes, there'll be a juicy extra of 200 dollars."

For Freyja, money was tight that month. It was a bad idea to do it right now, but business was business. The blonde put her phone in her pocket and turned to Andy, who was engrossed in his books. "I'm going to take a break. I completely forgot, but I got a family call to make."

"Okay, no problem," he replied, lifting his head from his textbook. "Actually, I have to go. See you tomorrow!"

Smiling, the college girl rose from her chair and went straight to the bathroom. Time was of the essence if she wanted to be discreet. As soon as she shut the door behind her, she undid her trousers, removed her knickers, and positioned herself on the toilet, giving a perfect view of her open cunt and moist lips to the camera. She also started to caress her clitoris slowly, letting out a quiet moan. Since she was fooling around, no harm in enjoying herself a bit too, right?

The entire time she took the photos, her heartbeat thudded in her throat, terrified that someone would come up. It added a bit of thrill.

@Ivory_Slave: "Is my pussy to your satisfaction? I'm only 20 years old, it's in pristine shape. You have no idea how tight it would feel around you... Guys from my college would be so jealous!"

She wrote under the picture and added a winking emoji. Her finger hovered over the send button for a moment before pressing it. The wait for his reply felt like an eternity. She was about to put the phone in her bag when it buzzed in her hand. An eggplant emoji and a few lewd comments arrived along with two hundred dollars. Her cheeks flushed, relief spreading over her body. 'So. Fucking. Easy.'

Freyja decided to return to the library. It was getting late, t seemed there wasn't another soul in the building. She took the last sip from her coffee, and checked her phone again for any new updates. It had been less than ten hours since Ogun posted the video and they had 2,000 followers. The inbox was flooded with pleas for more. She was horny, so she took a moment to compose herself before answering with a public message:

@Ivory_Slave: "Hey there, you naughty white pervs. I'm 20yo snowbunny originally from Scandinavia. I come from a very conservative background, and I have always considered myself proud of my white European heritage. However, I am not so sure about that anymore and I know you're all dying to watch me being fucked by black men. There will be more stuff soon."

Freyja added a wink emoji before slumping back in her chair. Chatting with strangers in ways she never could in real life was so appealing. She realized that she was making up a whole 'persona' around 'Ivory Slave' and her vocabulary had expanded to include dirty words she had known only through interracial porn. But she would be safe as long as she kept any personal details private. Freyja sighed, tossing the empty plastic cup in the trash, and continued chewing on the pen as she refocused on her OnlyFans.

"Gotcha." Came a voice, just over her shoulder.

Round-eyed, Freyja gasped as she looked up. Dr. Hardwood was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome in a way that made her insides tumble --dark skin, piercing eyes, a perfect jawline, and a sharp suit that screamed power and confidence. Freyja wondered how long he had been standing there, because she hadn't heard him approaching.

Her cheeks flushed when she glanced at him. Dr. Hardwood exuded the kind of effortless charisma that made every female student, and even some males, carry some level of lust for him. Then he leaned against her table, his dark eyes shone with curiosity.

"My office. Now."

Dr. Hardwood swept around her, striding to the back door leading to his office. Overwhelmed, Freyja obeyed. She almost ran to keep up with him. The hallways were deserted, the only sound the echo of her heels on the linoleum floor. He held the door open for her, and she didn't hesitate to get inside.

As she passed in, a manly smell infiltrated her nostrils, mixed with the scent of leather and sandalwood. Freyja took a deep breath, pushing her chest out slightly, making sure her ample breasts were visible beneath her blouse. She knew Dr. Hardwood had a penchant for white students, especially those with her body type.

"Is there a problem, Professor?" Her face turned a deeper shade of red as she asked.

"I thought we could discuss some of your extra-curricular activities, Ms. Lindström," he said, shutting the door. Freyja shuffled her feet as she looked around the tasteful confines of his office. It wasn't imposing, but there was no mistaking that it was the workspace of a successful, affluent professional. A large oak desk occupied most of the space, stacked high with student papers. The room was dimly lit, and the only sound was the ticking of the clock. Then Dr. Hardwood leaned against the door --her only exit, effectively trapping her.

"I don't understand," she said, feigning innocence, and her heart skipped a beat.

Dr. Darkwood's face tensed. "I believe you do."

They stared at each other, the tension crackling like electricity, Freyja's heart pounding in her chest. She licked her lips, hesitated, and nodded defeated.

"Use your words, Ms. Lindström." He stepped forward. Close enough for her to smell his cologne -- leather, spice, heat.

Freyja regained her voice and said, "Yes."

"Yes, what?" He took a slow step forward. She backed into the wall behind her, palms resting against the wood. Her chest rose and fell --plush curves straining beneath her blouse. His eyes flicked down her cleavage, then back up to her face.

"Yes... I do it... to quit my shitty job, focus on school, and sleep. Once I graduate and land my dream job, I can forget this ever happened." Her voice came out breathy. Her cheeks flushed crimson. She couldn't lie. Not now. Not when he was looking at her like that.

"Good girl. Was that so difficult, to be honest?" Dr. Hardwood said, and Freyja felt the skin of her neck prickling. 'Good girl.' She hated herself for how much she liked those words on his lips. "A good, ambitious girl juggling college and work," he continued, moving closer, caging her, one hand against the wall above her head, his massive frame leaning in. "I get that you need an easier way to make money, but I'm worried about the influence it could have on you and your academic track."

Now he was right in front of her, towering. She tilted her head back to keep eye contact, her breath coming shallow.

"It's just a handful of photos and videos," Freyja stated. "They don't take much of my time."

"Ms. Lindström, there's nothing wrong with you getting slamfucked senseless by Mr. Ebony_Master and whichever of his black friends he wants to farm you out to. You can make your own decisions. But you are seemingly not aware of the social consequences of your racist behaviour."

"I'm not a racist! I love black men! I thought you may understand it..."

"It's you who don't understand the nature of systematic racism," answered Dr. Darkwood. "Interracial porn is just a staging of white male's fantasies. It doesn't normalize sex between different races. It only recycles the old racist views and stereotypes about the black community, preserving the old hierarchies and structures of power."

"For a black person, sex... that kind of sex, I mean, can be empowering."

"No, Ms. Lindström. In those videos, black men behave like thugs, sexual predators corrupting, defiling, tainting, respectable white ladies. Those conceptions of porn pretend to bedefiant, but they don't really threaten the white patriarchy."

"Yes, I get that. But you shouldn't judge too harshly on these things... It's only a kinky game. I choose to adopt a submissive role when I'm with my black lovers. It just makes the sex more intense."

"I have no doubt it makes you feel good in indescribable ways, Ms. Lindström. What I want you to understand is that your privilege as a white woman confers on you obligations, and your new role as 'influencer' provides you with great chances as well, whether you realise it or not.

"With great power comes great responsibility?" She asked.

His arms were crossed over his chest as he answered, "It's sad to see your intellectual references are limited to mainstream culture, but yes, that's what I meant."

"Do you always speak to your students this way, or do you save that condescending tone just for women?" Freyja's voice was sharp velvet.

"A fair question," admitted the professor, "and deserves to be honestly answered. I've seen hundreds of snowbunnies like you, Ms. Lindström. White girls who find it exciting to transgress the norms of white patriarchy at college... before finding themselves a 'good' white husband. Black masculinity is just a parenthesis in their perfect, rich, Caucasian lives. They use their privilege to objectify black men, fetishizing their big penises, turning them into disposable studs. Don't tell me about your broken home or trailer park. As a white woman, you still have privilege. Just because you fuck black men doesn't mean you fuck with black men."

"I abhor racism of all types and I love Black culture since I was a teenager... That's the reason why I..." She replied, her voice a little shakier than she had intended.

"Ms. Lindström, I want to empower you to make the right decisions for yourself. That's all." His authoritarian words were a caress, a promise of something redemptive and forbidden. She felt a thrill of fear mingled with the lingering pleasure.

"The right decisions? Sorry. Can-can you elaborate?"

Dr. Hardwood smiled. "Are you a social activist, Ms. Lindström?"

Freyja answered, "Yes, I've been protesting about global warming..."

"Do you truly believe in racial reparations?"

She blinked. Dr. Hardwood was impatient and annoyed at her hesitation, so she cleared her throat, "Yes, of course. I believe in justice and racial equality."

"I have a feeling that you are not being completely honest with me, Ms. Lindström. But, perhaps, you want to offer me something... more than just an apology."

Freyja's eyebrow perked up coyly. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No," Dr. Hardwood said. "Don't be sorry. Be obedient... I'll provide you with an education... outside of the classroom," he murmured, tipping her chin up with one finger. "One that might change the way you see the world, and your place in it." Freyja's cheeks were on fire now, her breath shallow and quick. She didn't know what he was suggesting, and a part of her was terrified, but another part, a deeper, more primal part, was excited. "But you must first subvert the power dynamics at play."

"What exactly do you mean?" Her hands trembled.

Then he leaned down, lips ghosting against her ear. "From now on," Dr. Hardwood said, his voice a commanding rumble, "you will address humbly every black man as 'Sir,' no matter where you are. Dress appropriately to please, and you won't say 'no' to anything they ask. It's a simple form of transgressing your place in society, an unequal world where you've always held the privilege. That's the first step of redemption."

Freyja swallowed hard, her voice quivered slightly as she responded, "Yes, Sir." The words felt strange on her tongue, but she found herself eager to please him. The professor's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his dark face before he nodded.

"Good," he said, his voice softer now. "It seems you're eager to learn. You can leave now, Ms. Lindström."

Freyja's mind was a swirl of confusion and arousal as she left his office. Her legs feeling unsteady beneath her, but she couldn't deny the thrill it had given her, or the way her body had responded. She walked through the empty hallways, her thoughts racing with the implications of what had just transpired.

*****

The workday as a waitress was a blur of apologies and forced professionalism. Each time she sat down, she felt the heat radiating from her core, a constant reminder of the conversation she had with Dr. Hardwood. She tried to push the memories aside, focusing on the orders, but every time she thought she had it under control, a client would linger a little too long on her cleavage.

The door slammed shut, and a new customer walked in and sat at one of her tables. Freyja's gaze lifted almost instinctively, and it was impossible not to notice the man who just walked in. It was a big black man with expensive clothes: charcoal gray slacks, a light blue dress shirt, and black Italian leather shoes. He was clean-shaven, including his head, with teeth so bright that they contrasted with his dark brown skin. There was something in the way his eyes swept the room --a sharp coldness, as if he could dissect everyone there with just a glance, Freyja thought; many businessmen stopped there for a drink while waiting for their trains to take them to their homes in the suburbs. So she put on her warmest smile and pretended her feet weren't killing her.

Freyja swallowed hard, trying not to seem intimidated. As she approached him, she remembered Dr. Hardwood's instructions, and her eyes darted down, a gesture of deference ingrained in her conservative education. She adjusted her apron and forced a smile she had practiced hundreds of times.

"Good night, Sir," she greeted him, her voice a soft purr. "What can I get for you today?" Her voice sounded calm, but her heart was racing.

The black man stared at her, silent. His dark eyes analyzed every detail: the slightly worn apron, her hands gripping the notepad too tightly, even the stray strand of hair that escaped her bun. As if he was assessing every tiny aspect of her existence. His smile grew wider, his gaze lingering on her cleavage.

"A black coffee. No sugar. To go." His voice finally broke the silence, low, gravelly, like distant thunder, playfully authoritative, and carries a strange familiarity --as if he was used to being obeyed without question.

Freyja nodded, trying to stay professional. "Coming right up, Sir."

As she turned around, she felt his dark glance fixed in the rhythmic undulations of her hips. The blonde passed an old, ugly guy who noticed and mumbled something that sounded like 'mudshark,' but she wasn't sure. Without acknowledging him, she continued walking straight past, staring petulantly ahead. One minute later, Freyja felt a jolt of arousal as she served the black man and his hand grazed hers while handing over the coffee.

"Thanks, darling," he replied, his voice deep and resonant. When his eyes finally landed on her, it was as if the world around had disappeared. "Nice tits."

"Thank you, Sir," Freyja murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hands started to tremble, and an anxious heat spreaded through her body.

"Let me guess... 36 DD?" The black man asked.

"You have quite the eye, Sir," Freyja nodded submissively. The feeling of being judged grew.

His eyes slowly swept over her, a subtle smile playing on his thick lips. "Exquisite! Are they...?"

The Norwegian Girl swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the question. "Natural? Yes!"

"Mmm. May I?" The black stranger asked, waiting for her answer. After flashing a look around, making sure no one could see them, Freyja took a breath and nodded, biting her lip.

"Open your scrub top," he ordered.

Freyja's mind screamed that was wrong, but her body burned to obey. And as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing pale, flushed skin and a tight black bra barely containing her full, heaving breasts, he smiled.

"That's it," he said, voice gone rougher. "Good girl."

The black stranger didn't touch her right away. He just stood there, eyes roving over the exposed skin of her chest, drinking in the way her breasts strained against her bra. Freyja's breath hitched, nipples visibly hard now under the thin fabric, her skin prickling with anticipation. She bit her lower lip, feeling his gaze burn into her skin.

The African American reached out, put his hand inside her cleavage, and kneaded her mountainous left breast with lust, squeezing, massaging, and caressing, while she closed her eyes.

Her breath came in shallow gasps as he groped her, his hands warm and firm. Fingers played with the hard nipple and made it tingle. The blonde bit her lip hard, trying to suppress the sounds that threatened to escape her. She looked down and stared at his large hand grabbing her tit and her lacy white bra that struggled to contain her full breasts. The skin contrast was amazing: the darkest black against the palest white. Her breath quickened, her cheeks flushed, and goosebumps broke out on her arms.

When her customer finished, his eyes darkened with lust, he took a bill out of her wallet and tucked it into her cleavage. "Good girl... You've passed the test. Now I know it's you."

Intrigued, Freyja felt a strange mix of pride and shame. She took a moment to catch her breath, her thighs lightly trembling. It was the first time she let herself be groped by a black stranger, and she realized how natural it felt.

Her shift was long and grueling, it passed in a blur of furtive glances and stolen moments of submission. Freyja found herself seeking out opportunities to address black men as 'Sir' whenever she could. Her workmates began to whisper about her sudden politeness.

When the working day finally ended, Freyja was exhausted but ready for the gym. It was a habit ingrained in her DNA. She took off her work clothes and grabbed her bag full of sportswear and groceries. Clothed in a hoodie, sports bra, and leggings, she grabbed her bag to head for the gym.

It was cold outside; it was practically nighttime. She pulled her hoodie around her a bit tighter, grimacing when a chilly gust of wind swept by her and sent chills up the length of her spine. Freyja had crossed the street, and her phone buzzed. It was a text message from Caleb, the big tattooist. Stopping for just a moment, she answered.

Freyja: "How did you get my number?"

She feared that, somehow, the mature black man could feel her disgruntled tone through the message, so she added 'Sir.'

Caleb: "It was written on the wall of a hip-hop nightclub bathroom. It said to call Snowbunny Freyja for a nice time."

Freyja: "Liar."

Caleb: "Yeah, you got me. Yesterday, something suggested to me you wanted to see me again."

Freyja: "What?"

Caleb: "Your soaked panties."

Caleb: "I have something you may find interesting..."

Fuck. The salaciously image of a massive black cock under the letters 'BITCHBREAKER' burned into her mind. She had never seen anything like it. He was huge, like a horse stallion. The massive shaft, full of blood vessels, was down due to its weight, but it didn't detract from its hectoring mightiness, as it looked like carved from black stone. The foreskin had been cut baring a huge, heart-shapped cockhead.

Freyja closed her eyes as she pictured herself beneath Caleb, his towering bulk pinning her to the sheets, sweat-slicked skin pressing against hers, that monstrous cock stretching her wide, filling her in ways she couldn't fathom. She shouldn't spare her dignity answering him, she told herself, hesitantly. But she didn't have long to ponder it before the tall, muscular black man she had served approached her. "Going somewhere?"

Shoving her phone aggressively into her pocket, Freyja turned her attention back to the streets. "Yes... I'm late, actually," she said abruptly, pushing away from him.

"Let me carry that for you." He offered, reaching for the strap of her bag.

"I'm quite capable of carrying it, thanks ever so much, though."

"I don't doubt it, but a lady should never have to carry her bags when there's a gentleman around to do it," he told her, smiling, chivalrous, amicable, and handsome.

"Welcome to the 21st century, where ladies don't need big strong men to carry their damn bags for them anymore," Freyja snapped, shifting the bag to the opposite shoulder and away from him.

"You seemed to need a strong man before, doll," he noted smugly.

"Maybe. But I'm very cynical so I don't give a damn," she grumbled petulantly. "Thank you. Sir."

His fingers closed around her wrist, taking her to a dark alley, and suddenly Freyja had a six-foot muscled black man pressing against a wall. He placed his large, rough hand beneath her chin, turning her head gently to face him.

"You said thanks, but you aren't acting very grateful," he whispered in her ear. "Considering the 'respect' you showed me earlier."

Freyja wanted to snap at him, curse at him, but her words didn't match her tone. "I don't owe you an explanation," she said flatly, and then the black man did the most perplexing thing he had done yet. He laughed.

"You just don't like to behave, do you?" He chuckled.

The blonde twisted her neck to look up at him in disbelief. He smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I'll show you bad behaviour you son of a bitch," Freyja panted, wriggling out of his grip.

"I'm sure you will, doll, I'm sure you will. I can't wait till we're in the interrogation room."

"Wait.... What?!" Freyja shrieked.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, and Freyja forced herself to look away from the stupendously Nubian god, glancing around. A flash of red snatched her attention as she caught the gaze of a beautiful, dark-suited redhead. Her expression revealed nothing, but there was a warmth in her eyes.

"Relax, girl," the black man scoffed. "We're police officers."

In the brief time Freyja had been distracted, the redhead stepped away from the shadows and moved closer to them, staring at the college student with her arms crossed.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions," the redhead stated. She was a tall woman, made even taller by her high-heeled, leather boots that clacked as she walked up to her. Ripe breasts and perfect curves under designer clothes, hips swaying sexily... but she carried herself with a poise modeled on the way tough, confident men comported themselves, carefully copied and gifted by years of experience. Freyja hated cops, she hadn't had the best of luck with the ones she knew personally. Even her father, a retired policeman.

"Sorry, I can't. I have to feed my cat," Freyja grumbled, glaring at her, her brow furrowing up and her eyes going squinty as she walked away.

"You don't have a cat." The redhead frowned. "We're FBI agents investigating the disappearance of Brigitte Adams. I'm Natasha Van Heerden, and this is Agent James Abimbola." She showed her a FBI special agent badge.

"I haven't seen Brigitte since last month," Freyja muttered, trying to appear firm and serene and failing miserably. "She studies at another faculty, economics. We went to the same gym, though, so we chatted quite often. She was shy, and didn't mix much with the other students, but she was well-liked... very attractive, in a sophisticated, grown-up way. Dunno what I might tell you."

Natasha stared her, ghostly pale with striking sea blue eyes and bright copper hair.

"My dad made me get a part-time job when I was your age, too," She said conversationally. "I longed to find an easier way to get money, but..."

The college student mulled this over with a suspicious frown. "I hate it," she said at last.

The police woman breathed more easily. "I didn't care for it either. The only good thing about it was the money."

Freyja snorted. "It sucks, and I never get any good tips," she responded nonchalantly, holding her blue gaze.

"Listen, Freyja, we need your help," the female police said. "Brigitte could be in big trouble if we don't find her soon. Do you know anything about where she might be or with whom?"

The Norse girl frowned, still avoiding Natasha's eye. Good cop and bad cop. Freyja thought about Björn, her father's mate, who had always been kind and patient to witnesses and victims of crime, while using his charm and affability to seduce suspects into a false sense of security. Her father, however, always played bad cop in their partnership, unsettling suspects with his size and scowl, then Borjn would catch them out in their lies. These two FBI officers were playing the same old game with her.

She took a deep breath, held it, and made her decision. "Brigitte is a normal girl. But there is a guy... I don't know who he is, but she texts him all the time. Brigitte always talks about everything, but she never talks about him."

"Of course, she didn't tell you everything." James Abimbola favored the girl with a charming smile. "Surely there are things you keep secret, too."

'He provokes me to see what I might reveal about Brigitte, to get clues, or maybe they know...?' Freyja thought feverishly. "You don't think she's run away." Her words came haltingly. "You think this is a kidnapping."

"Everything points to that," answered Natasha. "By all accounts, Brigitte was well-adjusted, fairly happy, not the kind of girl who'd run away to meet some mystery boyfriend just to spite her mother."

"I get it, but I know nothing more," the blonde concluded.

Two pairs of strong, determined female eyes held each other's gaze until Natasha nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, Freyja."

"You'll find her, right?" Freyja asked.

"I'll do my best. I promise," said Natasha, and she proffered her a calling card. Freyja took it.

"Be careful how you behave with black strangers, doll," the African American cop warned her. "You're shit at reading people and acting like a white trash gangsta is no protection against anything. Now get outta here before I put you over my knee, make your big bum good and red... or maybe you enjoy it."

The college student scoffed and looked away from them. "I don't need to be taken care of," she said derisively, throatily, and strolling away. She didn't look back.

As Freyja walked to the gym, getting cold at night, she started to think about what she had done at work, shocked at her sudden hormone-driven submission.

Daddy issues.

Like most young girls, Freyja idolized her father. He could kick anyone's ass. He was her hero. He was smarter than everyone, better than everyone, funnier than everyone. He could protect her from anything. But he had a temper. It wasn't that he was angry all the time, but all the people around him had to do what he ordered.

He was the perfect stoic male. He didn't like holidays, he didn't like socializing, and he didn't like movies. He didn't like Hip-Hop. He didn't like niggers. Shopping for him at Christmas was an exercise in frustration and repetition. Power tools and barbecue utensils. He didn't bond, he didn't disclose, he didn't open up, and it was only been within the last year that he started apologizing.

But he was still her father, still her hero, still would stop anything from harming her. Aside from himself. She had grown up in a small town in Norway, from kindergarten through high school graduation. At that time, she was transitioning from junior high to high school. Hitting puberty, going from one hell to another. She did not get along with some of her classmates, and sexual harassment became commonplace. She did not realize her figure, wishing to be one of those whippet-thin beauties that reigned over the school, instead of being all curves.

One day she walked through the high school and heard a hip-hop song from Drake: "Lately I feel the haters eatin' away at my confidence. They scream out my failures and whisper my accomplishments." Those words resonate with her. She loved the sound. She loved the message. She loved the uplift and insistence and anger and drive. And he loved Hassan, the black boy who listened to it.

Freyja just knew about three Black people because that's what Trondheim was: a thoroughly white area. Soon, Hassan became one of her closest friends in high school, handsome with a brilliant smile and dreadlocks that hung to his wide shoulders. As her parents didn't believe in casual dating, Freyja would never introduce a partner to them. So it was not hard to imagine their displeasure when they discovered her kissing her black boyfriend in a park at the port. Her father aggressively yelling asked him what made him think he even deserved her daughter. It all ended in disaster and her first boyfriend never answered her calls.

Her relationship with her father was never the same. They no longer did father-daughter days or went on walks in the morning. Freyja spent her free time at home on the computer, writing or playing video games, listening to the few rap CDs she had over and over. She was still not adjusted to the idea of taking care of herself, of being truly responsible for herself.

*****

It was 20:00 when she finally reached the old gym building. Walking into, Freyja instantly spotted Regina on the other side of the open space. The sexy gym owner was resting on her huge ass with her legs bent at the knee in the air, holding one of the heavy balls that Freyja knew could pull her arm out of socket.

The Norse student headed towards Regina, and her buttocks swished together in her sweatpants as she made her way through the fit guys popping veins as they pumped the heavy iron. She glanced at a young blonde guy, reasonably cute, with enormous arms and nicely worked abs, but looking at his crotch, she couldn't hold her amusement from showing on her face.

It wasn't until Freyja dropped her bag on the floor that Regina finally realized she was standing there. The Latina grinned, dropping the ball as she stood to her full height wearing a pink bodysuit. A voluptuous five feet and ten inches with her feet flat to the floor and trained, toned trunks for limbs with perfect muscle definition and a set of exquisitely defined abs that made her look like an ancient statue come to life.

Regina reached over to one of the empty benches, picking up a white towel, and wiped away at her forehead and stomach. Freyja's eyes trailed the beads of sweat dripping down her caramel skin, her onyx eyes brighter than most gemstones, and her long, dark, braided hair slipping over one shoulder.

"Are you ready for today? I'd love to work your body out." Regina grinned as her dark eyes roamed over Freyja's voluptuous form with an amusement that felt predatory and the kind of confidence that came from knowing the world would bend around her.

"I'd love it, Ma'am." Freyja finally answered, resting her weight on one leg and watching the other woman's eyes shoot to the curve of her hip.

The Latina smiled wider at the unexpected 'Ma'am' and said, "We're gonna try bench pressing some light weights."

It started with a small, lightweight. The trainer got Freyja to do squats, still enough to emphasize how great her ass looked in the tight leggings she wore.

"You've got a nice booty for a white girl," Regina commented. "Believe me, sex feels even better when you're in shape."

The Norse student breathed steadily, focusing her mind on the repetitions and willing herself away from the lecherous looks of two fifty-year-old men. 'Perverts,' she thought, licking her lips as she felt his eyes fixed on her buttocks. 'Stop. Staring. At. Me.' She shouted in her mind, finding herself angrier. And yet, she couldn't deny it. The hungry way the two old guys looked at her cheeks, parting when she went down in her squat, made her core burn and tingle.

Why don't you go home? You've worked hard enough for today," Regina told them, showing a 'bitch face' that made any rubberneck think twice before they even opened their mouths, and the two guys obeyed immediately. "You can just kiss my mulatto ass," she finally muttered.

Kissing her mulatto ass would have been a likely dream for any straight man, but she was a tatooed Titaness of impressive female physicality and overwhelming confidence. She nodded for Freyja to follow her into the small weight room that wasn't visible to anyone outside. "Come in, let's train."

Once the two women walked in, the blonde lay on the black bench, and Regina selected among the different types of weights. Then she led the Freyja through a workout routine, fussing around her, nudging her feet into position, and aligning her spine in a way that looked downright professional. But deep inside, Freyja noticed how flirtatious she was.

"Let's make it harder." The older woman added several weights to the bar and walked over Freyja, holding the bar above her blonde head. The lips of her sex were clearly visible on her leggings, her abs were sweaty and dripping into the waistband over Freyja's hazel eyes. Tattoos could be seen at various places on her hard body, espousing slogans like 'Hood Rat' and 'Bad Bitch' in cursive script along with snakes and rose stems.

The silence was deafening for a moment before Regina cleared her throat. She gestured for Freyja to pick her hands up and placed the weight bar in her pale hands, keeping them up in the air.

"We're gonna do twenty repetitions, sweetheart. Sounds good?" Regina said, and the blonde nodded, pulling her lip between her teeth. "Alright, pretty girl. Let's go."

The Norwegian student met her gaze and nodded once more, sucking in a deep breath as she started her reps. Everything was going well until she got to her 16th repetition. Her arms shook slightly as she struggled to go back up. Regina instantly grabbed the middle, squatting down above her to help guide it up and down.

"That's it. Give me two more, and I'll let you get up." Regina murmured, slowly helping her lift the weights as Freyja kept her eyes glancing at the three splits in her trainer's leggings, on how her massive breasts shook. The Norwegian student couldn't even suppress the quiet moan that left her, as she practically let the weight go in Regina's hold, and fell over the bench.

While Freyja would be sweating her ass off and trying to catch her breath, she could see the way Regina's eyes lingered on her trembling, full breasts that were barely contained with her sports bra. Freyja scanned around, the main door was closed and certainly the two old guys had left.

"We'll relax for a few minutes..." Regina said. "Now, I'd like you to work your tongue."

"Sorry?" Freyja asked, flabbergasted.

"I'd like to chat, ya know?" Regina returned with amusement.

The younger woman breathed and giggled a little to herself, forcing a smile.

"Come on in, sit down. What would you like, a water?" A sheen of sweat covered her voluptuous body as she walked off to the drink machine.

"Water's fine." Freyja walked over to the bench and sat, watching Detroit's skyline through the window.

Regina walked up beside her and handed her a bottle. "I'll never get tired of this view," she said, admiring Freyja's figure.

The blonde took a sip of water. "You're not from around here, then?"

"Nope. Born in Medellín, Colombia, and raised in Mexico D. C." The Latina ran her fingers through her long, braided, dark hair, cascading around her shoulders, before grinning. "You neither."

"I'm pretty new to the city," Freyja admitted. "But I kinda like it."

The other woman seemed to nod, leaning back over the wall. There, Freyja could see the tattoo that ran over her chest. It looked like a black snake running around several gothic letters peeking out just above her top's neckline. The caramel skin was terse, her age was a mystery, and Freyja pegged her at around 35, though her strong physique seemed largely immune to the exactions of time.

"Trying to get a look at my tits?" The gym owner asked.

Freyja's eyes shot up. "No! No, I was... I was just looking at your tattoos."

"Sure you were."

"I was!" She insisted, before watching as the older woman laughed. "I love body ink. Yesterday, I paid for another one. Here."

"I'm just messing with you, sweetheart." And then the Latina pulled down her cleavage. There was an array of tattoos between her tits, a black serpent with open jaws and all around the letters 'Black only.'

"Marked for life, 15 years ago, but worth every second," said Regina, proudly. "And you?"

Freyja stood up and pulled down her leggings to show her the snowbunny's figure just three inches from her slit.

"That's a powerful message, darling," Regina continued, and they both smiled, relieved to have that common ground.

Freyja felt a sudden, intense, visceral image fill her head. "You're in shape," she muttered.

"I'm so glad to have your approval," Regina replied ironically.

The Norse student flushed, shaking her head. "No, I-I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that out loud."

"Let's go to the shower," the gym owner said.

There was a note of authority in her request that must be obeyed. Regina looked back as she swung the door open, and Freyja followed her to the showers in the girls' locker room, feeling the strain in her thighs and the light tickle of her sweat as it ran down her back. Her legs wobbled with every step, and her mind received the same warnings, making her unable to think clearly. The more she tried to fight itch that burned deep inside her the hornier she got.

"Don't worry, all customers are gone," Regina murmured, closing the door behind her.

The locker room was quiet except for the distant hum of the overhead lights. Freyja let out a breath, rolling her shoulders. The long day had left her muscles tight, and the sweat from practice clung to her skin, making her workout tank top and leggings suffocating. Freyja left her bag on the bench, sat down, and removed her gym shoes.

"Mind averting your eyes for a minute?" Freyja asked.

"I do," the Latina said, watching her, and wiped her brow with her top before tossing it onto the bench. "We're both mature adults, aren't we?"

Freyja's eyes flickered to her large breasts, glistening under the fluorescent light, divine, full and huge, with dark and perfectly formed, pierced nipples. Then she shrugged, turned around, and pulled her leggings to her feet. The Norwegian tried to shut her mind off and keep the thoughts that seemed destined to invade it. Regina had an amazing body, and she was displaying it nonchalantly.

"You do yoga?" The Latina asked suddenly.

While undressing, Freyja shrugged. "Keeps me flexible."

"Yeah..." The older woman mused. It was silent for a moment, awkwardly so. When the blonde turned around, Regina was fully naked, standing underneath a hot stream of water, running her hands all over her amazing muscles, stroking over her caramel skin. Her mound was smooth, and Freyja noticed a hint of gold between her slightly parted lips. A piercing. Maybe the Latina had a streak of exhibitionism in her... Or maybe...

"Come in, shy girl." Regina's voice was gentle, yet firm. It was as much a command as it was an invitation.

Stepping into the shower, Freyja let the lukewarm water wash over her, flowing over her curves. Her rounded breasts, full and milky, carried droplets of water that glistened under the bathroom light, pooling slightly at her navel before continuing their journey over her wide hips and thick thighs. The sensation was soothing, the water cleansing not just her body but also some of her thoughts clouding her mind.

"You look good," Regina told her.

Enjoying the compliment, Freyja smiled shyly. She liked to think she kept herself in good shape. "Thanks. You, too." She was hit by a sudden and intense desire to touch her, to run her hands over her wet skin, to lick those water droplets from her body. Instead, she tried to shut her mind off and keep the thoughts out that seemed destined to invade it.

"Does he make you come a lot?" Regina suddenly asked. The water cascaded over her braided hair, which clung to her skin in wet strands, and her brown eyes were briefly closed, savoring the warmth.

"Excuse me?" Freyja replied, startled.

Giggling, the gym owner tried again. "Does Ogun make you come a lot?" Her black, almond-shaped eyes sparkled with mischief, and Freyja didn't answer. She thought about telling her to mind her own business, but... "We've fucked, you know," Regina added.

"What?" Despite the heat of the shower, a shiver raced through Freyja's body.

"Me and Ogun." The Latina stared at the younger woman carefully. "Might be fun to join us sometime..." Regina added, and the college student waited until she told her she was joking. But she didn't. "Ogun can't resist a fine white pussy. He really filled you up, didn't he?"

"Well... I... yeah." Freyja snorted in agreement.

"That's Ogun." Regina laughed, shaking her head. "Deep down, he's a decent guy. He could be a bit rough, but the streets do that to you. His dad moved on before Ogun had grown, leaving his mom to put food on the table. That's why Ogun does what he does... Don't be too judgmental with him." The latina concluded, as she soaped her firm, large breasts, they gleamed under the water's sheen, their fullness accentuated by the suds.

"We are... fuck buddies. That's all," Freyja lied.

"I love white girls eager for black cock," Regina grinned wickedly. "Güeritas cojiendo con sementales negros... jummy, jummy."

"So we're... we're good, right?"

"Of course, girl. Don't stress it." Regina said. "I guess he's corrupting you, right?"

"I... well, yes, I'm... we're trying new things," Freyja said, a note of resignation in her tone. "Anal sex is the next thing, and I don't have experience."

"The anal topic hadn't come up with your ex boyfriends?" The olive-skinned woman commented.

"Yeah, they've asked but I was younger at the time. Never felt comfortable enough to do it."

"Nervous?" Small rivulets of water ran down Regina's shoulders, over her breasts, along her defined abs, pouring through the dark curls between her thighs.

"A bit."

"I can help you, darling."

"Really?" Freyja felt hot, very hot. "I-I mean... How did you...?" It was then that she felt a touch, not a hand, but just a finger, tracing up from her hip along the contour of her body.

"Catholic school. You'd be surprised by the things bored girls get up to." The grin on Regina's lips was short-lived. "Growing up surrounded by girls affected me more than I expected. I became a butch bitch. Which makes me the best choice for your course to anal, gringa."

"Bu-ut. How...?" Freyja muttered, and the Latina cut her off with a soft kiss. The blonde could feel Regina's hard nipples against her bare skin.

"Have you been with a woman before?" The Latina asked, her left hand sliding up to grasp Freyja's neck firmly.

"No, but..." Freyja's voice was husky. "I'm not gay..." She didn't know why she had such a stark reaction, but it didn't seem to faze the Latina.

"Of course not," she replied with a smile, "but sometimes nothing compares to a woman's touch." The blonde girl tried to argue something, only for Regina to place a finger on her lips to silence her, then whispered, "Close your eyes and I'll take care of the rest," she said with a devilish yet seductive tone. Her hands caressing Freyja's large breasts began to erode her resistance. She didn't resist, letting her body collapse into her arms, and her perfume seemed to embrace her along with her.

"Don't be shy, niña." Regina's voice was gentle, like coaxing a skittish kitten from under the bed, but it held something deeper. The way she spoke made Freyja feel small, protected. Regina watched her with keen eyes, analyzing every detail of her vulnerability. The smile that formed on her lips was almost imperceptible, but it was there, and she took her face between her hands, holding the blonde's head still as she kissed her, devouring her with her soft, wet, warm mouth, her tongue forcing her lips apart. Freyja moaned into her mouth, her spine curving gently as she pressed into her.

"Oh... please..." Freyja beseeched as she closed her eyes, her mind decayed to a primal state, and suddenly the only thought she could have was Regina's hand on her sex. The Norse student realized she had subconsciously spread her legs further apart, granting Regina unhindered access.

"What, slut? I want to hear you say it," the Latina insisted, her fingers now slowly circling her clit with deliberate intent.

This time, Freyja couldn't hold back the sigh that escaped her lips as she whispered a soft "Fuck me." Regina's lips came to the left peak of her bosom, and the student moaned again in lusty completeness. She looked down and saw the Latina's free hand down at her own body, between her legs.

Freyja watched in fascination her long red nails raking her wet cunt, pressing betweenher puffy lips. She moaned, this time loudly, as she felt her pushing her fingers into her. Unable to stop herself, Freyja arched her back, thrusting her tits towards Regina's voluptuous body, her knees separating as wide as she could manage, allowing her access to her most intimate being. Then she let out a long moan as the Latina teased her folds, her fingers traveling between them, up and down her drenched slit, then returned to her clit, caressing it with a circular motion.

Freyja gasped for air, sucking it deep into her lungs, fighting off the fierce need to climax. "Please..." She almost cried, fighting for breath, her legs unwilling to support her.

"You're so close..." Regina whispered. "I can feel you squeezing around me. What would you do if I stopped... right here?"

There was a growl. "Don't," Freyja said.

"Or what?"

But Freyja's face melted, her eyes widening as she panted. "Please," she said, her tone sweet as honey. "Please... Don't stop, Ma'am."

Regina's eyes felt shut, her breath a shudder at the sound of Freyja's earnest, desperate plea. The blonde's arousal spilled, reaching a brutal orgasm, and Regina laughed, pressing a kiss to her open mouth, until Freyja melted, dropping against her strong body.

"Kneel, slut," the Latina ordered. "De rodillas, puta."

The younger woman almost cried, kneeling before her, sitting on her heels, her hands shaking as they rested upon her thighs, unable to meet her dark eyes.

"Look at your Mommy," Regina demanded, and she obeyed, staring into her onyx eyes. The tip of her tongue wet her lips nervously as the older woman plumbed the depths of her soul with her dark gaze. Finally, Regina smiled, one corner of her mouth lifting. "Put that pretty little mouth of yours to work." Before Freyja could answer, the gym owner took her face in her hands, forcing her to taste the tanned pussy. "Start with broad licks up and down..."

Freyja didn't waste a moment, running her tongue the length of her slit, greedily lapping up her offering. She took her time, her tongue sliding easily over her coated lips, saliva mixing with other fluids, leaking from one corner of her mouth and down her chin.

"Yes. Fuck, baby, that's the spot. Fuck your Mommy with your filthy little tongue, gringa," Regina said, as she spread her lips apart with her fingers and the student slowly ran the tip of her tongue along the engorged edges of her folds. "Slow... slow, pet," the Latina instructed, but her voice was broken. "Let Mommy feel every... Fuck... millimeter of that tongue."

Her dark, bright eyes meet Freyja's, glazed, defiant, even in vulnerability. "D-don't you dare stop," she commanded between waves of pleasure. "I want... I want you to show me what a pathetic little pussy-licker you are... now! Make me come, puta!"

Freyja obeyed, slowing her pace, enveloping her throbbing clit with her lips, the tip of her tongue flickering like a snake against it. She sank her tongue deeper, pounding her nose against the other woman's pubis.

"Look at Mommy while she comes, sweetie," Regina ordered, not a plea, but a decree. The moan that followed was sharp and long, the kind she never imagined a woman like her could make. Holding her pace, Freyja continued to lick deep inside of the Latina before she felt her strong thighs tensing. And then, she orgasmed and pushed Freyja away from her.

"Jesus Christ," Regina exclaimed and Freyja bit her lip. "I should spank you."

The thrill shot through her. "Oh. Promises...," the blonde found herself saying.

Then Regina leant down and kissed her, hard, lifting her, and then slowed it down, drawing her mouth over hers, tasting her. Freyja moaned as she felt the older woman's teeth drag over her lip, tugging it before she kissed down her neck, biting down until Freyja felt her knees weaken, her body relaxing beneath the skilled mouth.

"Ready for the classes?" Regina said, turning around. The water droplets glistened on her caramel skin, tracing paths over her arched back and down the crevice of her shapely buttocks.

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Go upstairs." The order was soft, but firm. Unquestionable.

Wrapping towels around their soaked bodies, they pushed open the door, scanned the corridor for anyone coming, and opened a door. Freyja started up the stairs to the second floor, every fiber of her being tingling with the awareness that Regina was behind her, watching her every movement, savoring every second of her obedience. The pulsing heat between Freyja's thighs was a cruel reminder of how desperately her own body had betrayed her. With each step, her heart pounded harder. The sound of her footsteps was deafening in the silence.

Regina's apartment was a world apart from the gym chaos --a haven of control, charm, and order. The air inside was thick with the scent of sandalwood. Soft lights, muted and warm, cast shadows across the plush furnishings and wooden walls. A symphony of whispers --the rhythmic hum of the temperature control, the distant muffled street sounds--built an atmosphere of charged anticipation. Freyja followed the gym owner on wobbly legs, still completely naked and wet. What caught her eye was in the master bedroom: a king-size bed took up about two-thirds of the wide space. It looked both more opulent than any bed she had slept in her life.

The two women took off their towels and threw them on the floor.

"It looks... comfortable," Freyja said, naked again. "How do you want me?"

"On your hands and knees," With a groan, Regina ordered. "Get into position."

The college student nodded, her lips parted in a breath she didn't quite realize she was holding, and fell to the mattress, leaving her breasts covered by her long, reddish blonde hair. But only momentarily, for then, with both hands, she pushed it back and let Regina's dark eyes wander lazily across breasts that were firm, with tight rosebud nipples.

Then, Freyja knelt and spun around so her booty was facing Regina, bending her body until her full breasts touched the sheets. The blonde reached behind, cupped a cheek in each hand, and pulled him apart. Instantly her bright pink pussy came into view, as she flipped over and crawled up the bed.

Regina smiled, leaning beside her to open the nightstand drawer, and pulled a box and a bottle of lube. Freyja watched her open the box, her face neutral, though her eyes seemed excited. The Latina set the box down on the bed and lifted the lid, taking out the contents: a strap-on with a black, silicone dildo.

Regina pulled the harness over her legs, tightening the buckles until the dildo sat heavy and low on her hips. The gym owner was careful as she placed an amount of lube over the sex toy, rubbing her fingers over the phallus, ensuring it was slick, before she rocked the strap up. The fit was tight and the base sit directly on her clit. Regina had chosen a realistic model, and the tips of her fingers traced the web of veins running along the entire length of the shaft.

Freyja felt the dip in the mattress as the older woman joined her. The college student was bent over, with her ass and pussy fully exposed, her full breasts hanging.

"Could you..." Freyja said, before she stopped herself.

"Could I what?" With her spare hand holding the student's hips, Regina slid her fingers between her thighs, running her fingertips over the blonde's cunt.

Freyja paused, her eyes flicking away to stare at the headboard. "Could you fuck me, Mommy?"

"You'd love it, do you? Eres una gringa guarrilla." Regina said, her voice soft and soothing as her fingers brushed through the blonde hair. "But you're a liar... You didn't tell me anything about your OnlyFans with Ogun."

"I-I... didn't, but..." Freyja sounded almost in tears. "It's just a way to make ends meet.. That's all!"

"Are you playing up for the camera or are you truthful?" The Latina asked, her hands gentle as she brushed Freyja's hair back from her face.

"I... really enjoy," the college student confessed. "Anal sex is... we're going to film and a..., hum, a double penetration."

"Lying girls get punished, Ivory," the Latina said, rumbling a deep, throaty laugh. "You just need a little reminder to behave better." Regina opened the drawer and took out a wooden paddle. "I'll give you ten for being a lying bitch," she rubbed his palm over Freyja's exposed arse.

The Norwegian girl sucked in a stuttered breath, her body tensing before anything happened. Lying on her stomach on the bed, she waited. She needed to be punished. Only then would the guilt fade. The older woman gentle caressed along her arse. The air shifted around them as Regina's paddle connected with her right cheek with a resounding crack that made a sob catch in her throat, equal parts surprise and pain. She hissed in a breath through her clenched teeth, her whole body shaking.

"Relax and breathe, niña," Regina prompted. "I can't allow you to lie to me, not even by omission," she said, spanking the other cheek harder.

"I'm... sorry. Please!"

"And this is for fucking in my gym with Ogun without my permission. Don't deny it." Without much preamble, the paddle landed again, Freyja twitching and jiggling her buns delectably with every blow. The burning sting was just as harsh, but the tingle of pleasure that rumbled through her sent a wave of heat flooding her center.

"Yes, Mommy," Freyja groaned.

Everything turned fuzzy around the edges as Regina rained down eight more swats. There was something freeing and comforting about leaving aside all her thoughts and giving in completely, and Freyja let out a garbled sob when it was over.

"Don't cry, doll." Regina's voice was kind. "You deserved it." Freyja craned her neck to look over her shoulder, breath hitching at the heated look on Regina's face as she spread lube over the silicone cock and shot out a hand to palm her ass. "You look so beautiful." Her voice was low and a little rough, and it sent a shiver up Freyja's spine when she ran her palms over her tortured ass, squeezing gently.

The blonde gave an embarrassed whine and tilted her head to hide her face against the bed. Regina chuckled, her hand moving downward to the student's sex. It was slick with her juices already, and she moaned when the tanned fingers slid on either side of its rosy lips. When Regina pressed against her clit, she gave a muffled moan, hips twitching against her hand.

The Latina took the bottle of lube from the nightstand, rubbed her finger in the jar and placed it on Freyja's asshole. She didn't push in just yet, she just rubbed the puckered hole, massaging the area around the opening until she could feel her begin to relax. When she thought the girl was ready, the Latina pushed her finger against her hole, and it slid in quite easily, but she stopped after introducing the second knuckle.

"I want you to relax, open up for me."

The pressure around her finger almost immediately lessened and Regina pressed deeper until her whole index finger was buried deep inside. Meanwhile, her right thumb was coaxing Freyja's clit out of its hood. Regina pulled her finger out and reapplied the jelly.

"Mmmm..." The Norse student couldn't help but shudder when a second finger was introduced. This time, Regina met more resistance and had to pump her two fingers in and out to gain ground.

"I want you to clench your muscles when I'm at the deepest point of penetration. Slowly let go when I start to pull out." Regina used this exercise to widen her anal entrance a bit more with every slow pass, until she was able to add a third finger. Her right thumb was still on Freyja's clit, flicking it gently. The blonde moaned slightly as the Latina fucked her.

"See how you're adjusted," a soft voice sounded in Freyja's ear, and she gasped as the three digits worked away inside her. With the next pass, the long fingers stayed buried as deeply as possible.

Regina gently spread her pale cheeks and checked the sphincter. The blonde girl grunted but stayed in position and tried to relax by breathing as calmly as possible. The younger woman's juices were slowly coating the sheets. As soon as Freyja's breathing returned to a more regular rhythm, Regina withdrew both hands and whispered, "Brace yourself, baby!"

The gym owner's hands gripped her waist and Freyja let out a breathy groan as the tip of the dildo was against her anus. She curled her fingers in the sheets as Regina slid the toy inside her. The first two inches went in easily, but the shaft rapidly got thicker, and Regina had to add more lubrication. Her right arm circled Freyja's waist to steady her while the left worked on pushing the plastic cock inside.

"Please... Please stop!" Freyja muttered in a pleading voice.

"You can take it." Regina began to move, only a fraction of an inch. "The rest is a piece of cake. Do it for me, güerita."

Gritting her teeth, her eyes squeezing shut, Freyja willed herself not to disappoint her. Long, agonising seconds later, her pale body was covered in sweat and trembling. Regina pulled the silicone cock almost all the way out before pushing back in. The blonde moaned softly each time she pushed in.

"That's my girl..." Regina murmured. "Take it all, niña, sé buena..." Then, she grabbed her wide hips with both hands and began to fuck her. "How does it feel?"

Freyja grunted. "Big," was all she said at first. "How far in?"

Regina glanced down and said, "Maybe halfway." She slowly sped up the pace of their rocking, and Freyja went with the flow and reached down with her right hand and began massaging her clit.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Freyja said, and she uttered a guttural "ugh" with each push. "I can't... believe you're... ugh... fucking my... ass!"

Regina's hands turned possessive, gripping her hips and pulling her harder back against her, the sex toy reaching deeper and deeper. Freyja crumpled forward until her cheek was pressed to the bed as the Latina fucked her. It all spiraled as she let herself fall into her pleasure.

"Holy Mother of God!" The blonde loudly exclaimed as Regina propelled his silicone cock into her with a concussive force. "Keep fucking me. Keep fucking my ass."

Regina smacked her ass, thusting wildly, and forced her to inch forward, resting her face on the overstuffed headboard. "Bite down on the pillow, bitch" The Latina grabbed her blonde hair and roughly pulled it back, holding Freyja in place. "You want to cum from your ass fucking, don't you? Say it!"

"I want to cum..."

"Like a dirty whore... Say it!" The Latina demanded, and the blonde girl hesitated, but then she pulled hard. "Say it!"

"Like a dirty whore!"

Regina drove her silicone dick as far as she could into her thight ass, making her scream again. "You're a whore, you're my white whore."

"I'm your white whore..." Freyja whispered, totally defeated.

The Latina started rolling her hips, planting her plastic dick harder, making her shriek every time. "I'm a whore! I'm a whore! I'm a whore! I'm a whore!" Freyja cried in time with her brutal thrusts.

Smiling, Regina enjoyed the feeling of control she had over her. Then she lay flat on Freyja's back, leaned her head next to hers, and concentrated on bouncing her hips up and down off of her ass cheeks. The blonde pushed her body flat against the bed as a stream of dirty words fell from her mouth.

"You're so good," Regina whispered. "Such a good white girl. Are you going to come for Mommy?"

Freyja turned her head, finally looking at her out of the corner of her eye. Her cheeks were deeply flushed, her mouth fucked open and she nodded with glazed eyes. "Yes," she bit out around a gasp.

Regina smiled and bit her neck, and Freyja dragged her face against the mattress. The Latina began rocking, quicker and quicker, until the clapping began as her hips collided with the blonde's bottom.

"Oh fuck that's good," Regina's lips kissing her neck, "Yeah, fuck yeah, damn gringa."

Regina felt a hard tremor as the blonde girl orgasmed, her pale body shivering as she hugged the pillow even tighter. Freyja's milky breasts bounced wildly up and down. The blonde shrieked, "Oh, my God!" Regina watched from behind as she bit into the pillow, followed by a deep, visceral moan that came from inside her. Then, Freyja's back went taut, her nails digging into the sheets, her hips bucked, and her whole body flexed in a mighty spasm. All hell broke loose as her clit exploded and brutal contractions wracked her tortured asshole.

"OoooohhhhmmyyyyGooood...," she screamed, and the Latina smiled as she watched her fall to pieces.

The slapping slowed and began what turned out to be a very slow, even romantic fuck as Freyja blocked out all thought of everything except how wonderful the dildo felt pistoning in and out of her asshole. She had no idea that anal sex could feel so good. Finally, Freyja pulled away until she felt the black dildo fall out of her.

"Fuck that was unreal," the blonde girl huffed, trying to catch her breath, and Regina leaned over her back to kiss her neck, collapsing beside her on the bed.

The two women stayed that way for a while, their sweat-slicked bodies side by side, chests heaving in unison, the hair fanned out across the pillow in a wild, damp halo.

"Fuck," Regina murmured, her voice hoarse, barely above a whisper, before she pulled out. Then she reached down, unbuckling the straps, and kicked it off. "How does your ass feel?" She asked, before placing a chaste kiss on Freyja's left shoulder.

The blonde chuckled, a deep, satisfied sound, rolling onto her side to face her eyes, her full mounds shifting with the motion, nipples still stiff. "It aches, but that isn't the worst part. It feels open. It's so weird-feeling..."

"I used a numbing cream with benzocaine to push your anus past its point of comfort," the gym owner informed her. "Relax... the muscle will recover soon, and you'll be ready for a deep DP. Thousands of white losers will see you every night," Regina added, kissing her temple. Her voice was a dark purr. "They'll jerk alone or fuck their boring wives and fantasize it's you. How does that make you feel?"

Freyja felt the exhaustion slipping over her. "It's a bit... overwhelming," She admitted, as her Mommy began stroking her long, blonde hair.

"Scared that something might get out? That your comfortable life might be ruined irrevocably?"

"I-I..." Freyja muttered.

"Don't be shy now, sweetheart," Regina's tanned hand caressed her shoulder. "Mama's already seen it all."

"I have a conservative, religious family," said Freyja, and sighed, stretching her arms over her head. "But once you taste the forbidden black fruit, there's no turning back, I guess."

"I've heard you had a relation," Regina bit. "A white boy who's always with you at college," she elaborated.

Freyja smiled. "That's Andy, but he's harmless. We're just friends."

"Now, you must face where the lifestyle can lead and decide if you want to go all the way. I doubt you'll be able to hide who you are much longer. This sweet little white pussy now belongs to big black cocks, and that can make you a lot of money. Trust me, honey, I know what I'm talking about. I'm a financial domme."

"What?" Freyja sat up on the sheets, her full breasts exposed to the Latina's delighted gaze.

"I tweet, post pictures on Fetlife, and other sites on the internet. I receive dozens of DMs from my paypigs. I dunno what's got them so hot and bothered about women getting black dick, but they love to jerk off to me. I send them pictures whenever I fuck around, and once in awhile I visit him in person."

"Do you fuck them? What do they pay you?"

"Sometimes I jerk them off, other times I spank them, or fuck their pale asses, but I refuse to do anything more than that with anyone white. Doesn't matter what they offer me. I usually get five thousand bucks a month. A hot blonde piece of ass like you? Put some shit on the internet and guys will get crazy. Do you truly enjoy it?"

"I feel pretty good now," Freyja answered. "Whenever I'm in front of the camera, I'm Ivory Slave. I'm learning a lot about myself."

"You have to accept what you are, sweetheart," Regina concluded. "But you're still too trusting, too innocent, darling. This lifestyle can be fulfilling, but you aren't ready yet. Get yourself someone... a manager, a protector, a boyfriend. Ogun could be a good choice. If you really want to go on with this, your mind needs to be trained alongside your body."

"And what makes you think I'd want to be trained?" Freyja raised an eyebrow, but the older woman didn't want to concede that easily. Regina squinted her eyes and gave her a confident smile as she raised her hand in a taunting gesture. "The impressive amount of cum on your rosy cunt?"

Freyja giggled and eased herself up onto her elbows, sliding across the mattress and kissing Regina, their tongues duelling languidly, their breasts pressed together, nipples hard and sensitive against one another, their mons connecting and making the blonde shiver as the older woman's patch of pubic hair nuzzled against her nakedness.

"Do... do you think I'm doing the right thing?" Freyja asked.

"Sure. Trust Ogun and embrace your true self," Regina answered emphatically. "Now you can crash here if you want. Better than walking the streets again, so late at night," the gym owner offered. "Tomorrow's going to be a full day for you."

To that, Freyja smiled. "Thank you, Mommy." The blonde yawned, unable to help herself, and nodded as she watched the older woman leave. She was so tired that she lay down curled up in the far corner of the bed. Strangely lucid, yet floating, satisfied, relaxed and happy. An inner voice told her to stop worrying, that everything would be all right. At that moment of blissful exhaustion, she soon fell asleep.

Naked except for a thick satin robe, ten minutes later, Regina stood leaning over the railing of the gym's second-floor balcony, a cigarette glowing between her slender fingers, its ember flaring with each slow, deliberate drag. Her curvy silhouette stood sharp against the light of the skyscrapers streaked with wisps of cloud that hung heavy over Detroit. Her brown eyes, stormy and distant, traced the horizon absentmindedly.

Then her phone buzzed. The gym owner smiled archly as she pressed the button.

"Don't keep me waiting", said Ogun. "How is she?"

"Perfect," Regina answered and closed her eyes, feeling her flesh wake at the recent memories. "In every possible way. A first-class nympho."

Ogun laughed softly. "You didn't damage her, did you?"

"Nothing permanent." The Latina said, glancing at the bedroom. "You were right about practicing on throwaway girls first, though."

"Your old buddy is always right. I only made that mistake once." Ogun's voice darkened.

"She's gonna be really popular. She's cute, and snowbunnies are a huge business." Regina said and took a drag. The cigarette's acrid tang bit her tongue as the wind swayed her black, braided hair, raising faint goosebumps along her caramel skin.

"Yeah," Ogun agreed. "Ivory is in that niche market where the demand is insatiable, and new merchandise doesn't come cheap. I prefer to stretch the training longer, though."

"Does corrupting her turn you on so much?" Regina chuckled, her tone exaggeratedly innocent, running her fingers through her dark hair.

"You say that like I ain't fucked a thousand white girls," Ogun stated, shrugging. "Let's go step by step. She must be 'open for business' asap, but we can't burn out assets."

"Her attitude is changing. Quickly," said Regina, staring the industrial decay of Detroit's outskirts. "Our magic water keeps her in the perfect mood, and she's a natural submissive. Her racist daddy did a good job with her, and I suspect she's under other 'bad' influences now."

"Take a little girl, sumit her to a strong authority asshole, and then throw her into a college full of sissy, nerdy students... " Ogun chuckled. "She'll wet her panties with the first brotha she finds. Political correctness has emasculated those poor idiots.

"It's amazing how many college students have sex with Africans just to prove they're not racist!" Regina tossed the cigarette butt to the ground. "It's only her first day with me... I'll work her ass real hard for the next week." Her eyes flashed, and a cruel smile teased the corner of her mouth.

"She'll be used to it. Whether she liked it or not," Ogun said. "5,000 OnlyFans subscribers and counting, three filming offers on the table, and all my contacts in Zanzibar, Dubai, and Nigeria excited," Ogun concluded, laughing. "Ivory Slave's pussy is worth its weight in gold!"