Interracial Erotic Stories

"So, Tommy-boy," Marcus Dupree said, "which tape you think we should mail out? And to who?" "Please, Daddy," Amy begged, "please don't...I swear I'll be good..." She was kneeling at Dupree's feet, her arms wrapped around his legs. Tears ran down her beautiful face. Dupree ran a hand through Amy's hair in a parody of tenderness. "I know you have, bitch," he said. "But Tom disobeyed orders. He watched you with those Mexicans when I tole him to stay in the car. So now he's got to pay the price. I tole you what I'd do if either of you got out of line. I tole you I'd send out the tapes I made. An' I always do what I say I'm gonna do, you know that." Amy began weeping even harder. "So who's it gonna be, Tom? Who you want watching your wife get fucked? Your partner? Amy's parents? You better choose, Tom, `fore I do it for you." Tom's brain raced madly in circles. The tapes that Dupree and his friends had made of his wife showed her eagerly sucking and fucking men, women, even a dog. And all of them featured her talking about how much better the fucking she was getting was than anything Tom could do. They featured her graphically describing, even laughing at, Tom's small penis. The thought of anyone at the police station seeing those was more than Tom could stand. And Tom knew Amy's strait-laced, religious father might very well have a heart attack if he saw his daughter being defiled and begging for more. Who could he pick, who would do the least damage.... "Her sister," Tom said. "Send one to Amy's sister." Amy's head snapped up to look at Tom, her mouth open in shock. "No," she breathed, "you can't..." Amy's older sister Holly had always lorded it over her younger sibling. Holly had been head cheerleader, valedictorian of her senior class, a straight-A student in college, and was now married to a successful heart surgeon. She had never missed an opportunity to make Amy feel like a second class citizen. And now she would be the one to whom Amy's degradation would be revealed. But it was better than any other choice Tom could think of...at least for him. "You BASTARD!" Amy screamed. "You son of a BITCH!" She attempted to jump up and launch herself at Tom, but Dupree grabbed her hair and pulled her back. "Plese, Daddy," she pleaded as she looked up at him, "Not her, not my sister, send it to his buddies at the police station, let them know what a wimp he is, but please, not my sister..." Dupree grinned maliciously. "Naw," he said, "I like Tommy's idea. There might be one o'his cop buddies that might decide to do somethin' about me whorin' you out. No, I think yo' sister might be just the ticket. `Sides, she may even decide to come and get some o'what her sister's been enjoyin' so much." There was little chance of that, Tom knew. Holly was the ultimate Ice Princess, a slim blonde with a supercilious attitude. Tom had never even seen her hold hands with her husband other than at her wedding. "God, I hate you, Tom," Amy hissed at him. "You picked my sister because you couldn't stand to be humiliated in front of your buddies. So you decided to humiliate me instead. I'll never forgive you for this, Tom. Never. You're so goddamn WEAK..." And that, Tom realize too late, was the essence of Dupree's punishment.Dupree knew Tom's weaknesses, knew he would do anything to avoid a bad image with his friends....and in avoiding it, Tom would make his formerly loving wife hate him even more. He hung his head and sobbed brokenly. "Come on, get up, bitch," Dupree said to Amy. "Tom may have time to lay there blubberin' but you got to get to work." She cried out as he pulled her to her feet by her hair. He dragged her to the bedroom. Tanya, Dupree's blonde assistant whore-trainer, got up from the couch and followed, a smirk on her face. "We've got another little surprise for you, Tommy," she whispered, as she disappeared into the bedroom. In a few more minutes, Tanya came back out. "We were going through your closets, Tommy," she said. "And look what we found. Some of your old clothes." She clapped her hands commandingly. Amy came out of the bedroom. Dupree and his assistant had dressed her in Tom's uniform from his early days as a beat cop. His patrolman's hat was perched jauntily on her head, her thick curly brown hair sticking out from under it. His dark-blue uniform blouse was stretched tight across her big tits, so tightly that Tom could clearly see her nipples. Even the aureoles were clearly defined against the strained fabric. From the waist down, she wore only a sheer black silk thong and a pair of 5-inch heels. Tom's gunbelt hung around her waist, his handcuffs and nightstick dangling from it. "Looks good, don't she Tommy-boy?" Marcus Dupree grinned as he followed Amy into the living room. "She gonna make a big hit at the party tonight. We got some guests that'll really appreciate it. You even know some of `em."