Dark Horizons Ch. 08

Author's Note: The story arc in this chapter is unique, as it's the only one not based on our real life experiences. This is a story requested by a huge number of loyal readers, and I offer it as a tribute to them. As far as I know, it has not happened, at least not this way. In addition, I apologise for the long gap between submissions. Maggie's impregnation by Marcus was, like most of this story, very real. The baby's first year has kept us running and it's only now that I have found time to continue this story to its end.

To the few haters (all of whom seem to be named 'Anonymous') I can report that, after four years in the interracial lifestyle, our marriage is just fine. Don't judge our marriage unless you have tried it yourself. And remember, no one will force you to read it.

December 27

Jennifer's Story

While Maggie deepened Jack's cuckold training in the en suite master bath, Marcus began to stir from his hibernation in the master bedroom. He scratched his ample, jet-black belly in anticipating his plan for the afternoon. His cock, though flaccid was huge, and he gave it a test squeeze. He had showered after his morning tryst with Maggie, his Baby Mama. Even with showering twice and liberal application of deodorant, there was no masking his heady masculine scent, filled with the pheromones he knew would some day make my daughter salivate in his presence, and throb with desire and need. That day, he had decided a week ago, would be today.

After the contrived scene a couple hours previous, where he had asserted his role as the alpha male of our household, the unspoken truth became clear -- his was the right to take any of its women. Even so, for this next move, he wanted to appeal the to visual, tactile ands olfactory senses of his target. He actually tended to think of Jennifer as a 'target', partly from his many years of football as a Right Tackle, and partly from his hunter's instinct as a superior alpha male.

He held an internal debate as to how he should approach and take his intended prey. He loved white women, from cougars like Maggie to girls like my Jennifer, and he basically had two approaches to conquering white females,

His first approach was to use fear, forceful aggression and intimidation. As a man-boy and High School Football All-American, girls, even white girls began to take notice of him. By graduation, he had taken the cherries from 3 of the 8 white cheerleaders back home in East Texas. One he left one impregnated. Somewhere out there was a cocoa 15 year old with Marcus's brawn, and blue eyes and lighter hair from his blond mother.

The approach he used back then was to pick off the weakest of them, Amy, a cute blond from a divorced household, with a taste for forbidden fruit, and a daddy complex, with its attendant need for male domination. He intimidated her, trapped her by her locker every day. He wouldn't take "no" for an answer. Finally worn down by him, she started accepting rides home in his convertible, "donated" by grateful football-crazy Texas boosters.

He trained her to suck cock while he drove and from there, overcoming her fear of sex and her concern over having sex with a black man was simply a matter of time and bullying and the occasional beating.

When he took her cherry, he was rough, and every time thereafter he took her forcefully, staying on the "right" side of rape by making her beg him to fuck her. She became addicted to him, but just as importantly, she left an imprint on him. He was by now totally addicted to white girls and white pussy. He loved the feel, the smell, the look, the perceived delicacy and refinement of white girls, and he loved degrading them into BBC sluts. When he began to show up to football parties with Amy clearly under his spell, some of the other cheerleaders took notice.

When Amy gushed about how incredible he made her feel, other cheerleaders, one by one, became his. When he grew tired of Amy's clinging, he turned her over to the Left Tackle, Rafe. Even though she was already a month late, Rafe stuck with her. At the last game of the season, Rafe blew out his knee, ending his college chances (none of the football team ever bothered with going to class, so his education was eight grade level at best). Rafe took Amy down South, turned her out on the streets as her pimp. he later added another cheerleader cast off from Marcus to his stable. Marcus knew that if either of them were still alive, they would be prematurely aged, with clapped out pussies and at least a few black babies under their belt.

Secretly, when he thought of Jennifer, he wanted to do the same to her. Part of him secretly hated her for her brilliance and for getting an academic scholarship to William and Mary. Part of him secretly hated her for coming from a (once) solid family and for having a nice home and nice clothes. Part of him secretly wanted to degrade her, then pass her to an associate, pregnant and forced to stroll for a pimp. His cock began to stiffen and tent his grey athletic trainer shorts, pushing out and up toward his belly as he closed his eyes and imagined her perhaps a few months from now, her rail thin body with suddenly swollen breasts and a big belly.

But that was only part of him. Another part was motivated by simple lust; he simply wanted to take her innocence and own her. He remembered the flash of her tight little pink slit he had seen the one time he convinced her on web cam to open her legs and spread her little pussy lips for him. She had never worked up the courage to do that again and steadfastly refused his subsequent requests. That was mostly a residual effect from her staunch Catholic upbringing.

He had shown her his body and his massive cock many times on web cam, and unbeknowst to him, she had masturbated herself to numerous climaxes in the darkness of her dorm room after their sessions, dreaming of him inside her. She was still a virgin, partly out of guilt and partly out of a conviction that she would only give her cherry to a black boy. That was a conviction reinforced by the many pieces of literature and interracial porn he emailed her. He knew in fact that she was still a virgin, and his plan was to change that today.

But how to approach her? His other technique, learned much later with NFL cheerleaders, was to use a charm offensive, only later turn to intimidation, supplemented with physical abuse through slapping, biting, restraint, and rough anal penetration, and liberal mental abuse. Using his charm was the technique he used with Maggie and the one he had been working through several months of Internet flirting with Jennifer. Today was the first time he began to assert his dominant side, when he reveled to her in front of both her parents who the master of the house really was.

A part of him thought that gentle persuasion, charming his way into her head and into her cunt was the best technique to gain her trust, ensure his domination and her compliance with whatever he would demand of her in the weeks and perhaps months to come. With this in mind, he slipped on an NFL tee, a pair of boxers and started toward her bedroom.

He paused at the bathroom door and pressing his ear against it listened, hearing Maggie say, "That's my little man. Just think of Daddy pumping his hot, thick baby batter into Mama, and making Mommy big with his black baby. That's a good boy, Stroke your little peenie and cum on Mama's boobs. Oh cum baby, cum for me."

He pushed away from the door and chuckled, shaking his head from side to side thinking, "My bitch done got her cuck boy trained up real good", then realized that she too was 'trained up real good' through his head games and predatory sexual prowess.

Jennifer's bedroom was typical of a suburban tract house, the walls were painted lavender and 2 windows looked out, one onto a tree in the side yard on one corner and the other onto the street from the front of the house. Her doll collection and books of poetry occupied a built in shelf on one side and a double bed with white painted wrought iron headboard, on the other side. She looked at the light snow fall on the street in front of the house, and felt a chill as she was wearing now only a pair of grey workout boxers with her "William and Mary" college logo imprinted on them over a pair of black thongs, given her by Marcus. Up top, she wore an actual NFL jersey, the one given her by Marcus over Thanksgiving. It was incredibly large for her and as a result, hung seductively off one shoulder.

She had seldom needed to wear a bra over her high pomegranate-sized tits, and today was no exception. She wished suddenly she had an undershirt on though as the chill of the day made her nipples jut out hard and obvious.

She stood, all one hundred five pounds of her, twirling her long golden hair idly with one finger while re-reading "Sonnets from the Portuguese". She loved the passage that went:

"And yet, because thou overcomest so,

Because thou art more noble and like a king,

Thou canst prevail against my fears and fling

Thy purple round me, till my heart shall grow

Too close against thine heart henceforth to know

How it shook when alone."

The erotic rush the poem gave her was another reason her nipples were aroused and a clammy wetness made her inner pussy lips cling to her thong. When she read that over and over, she envisioned herself in the bed of a handsome king, giving her love and her body to him without reservation.

Yet, when she envisioned her dream king, he was an African King, and the cock she reached out to insert in her engorged pussy was huge and jet-black. All the literature and hundreds of photos Marcus had been kind enough to share with her over the semester were having the intended effect.

When she thought of sex now, she thought exclusively of herself with a black man. As she absent-mindedly let her mind wander further, she allowed in the thought that she had been fighting to suppress for weeks now. Maybe, she thought, maybe that man, that king was Marcus himself. She reminded herself that he was 35 though, literally twice her age. Did he even have an interest in her?

Even so, she reasoned, after witnessing the scene downstairs a few hours ago, didn't her Mom and Dad both implicitly agree by their actions that Marcus ruled this house. By extension, she reasoned, anything he wanted was his by right of conquest. She wasn't sure where she stood with him though. Since she had been home for Semester break, he had shown interest in her, constantly flirting, and of course at Thanksgiving, when he gave her the NFL jersey. She remembered him cupping her breasts for the tiniest fraction of a second and pressing his cock into her ass crack and her back from behind before her parents stormed in the front door.

She lubricated involuntarily at the remembrance of that brief encounter, and her vaginal walls began to throb a little. Without knowing it, her hips began to sway and move back and forth to the hidden jungle beat of the hip-hop playing on the media stream from her MacBook. She had never ever liked soul or hip-hop until very recently, and she was not even consciously aware how perfectly its hidden jungle beats were retuning her thinking and her reactions, especially to Marcus. Sometimes, just his entering the room would force a hip-hop tune into her brain and it would linger there for hours as unwanted melodies sometimes do.

Her idle thoughts were interrupted by something happening across the street. A young couple lived there, Mark and Laura. She knew Laura had gone to her Catholic all girl's high school but was a few years older than she. The couple was able to afford a new house because Mark was an engineer and made extremely good money -- good enough to buy a house at age 22.

Now Mark was pulling at Laura, wiping tears away from his eyes, trying to get her back into their two story colonial style house. Laura shook her head and was actively pointing at Jennifer's house. Jen knew that something was up. She knew that the couple had been invited over for the interracial bash Marcus was holding here this evening.

Jennifer also knew some other things that she probably wasn't supposed to be privy to. She knew for instance that Laura had been asking Mom about her situation with Marcus, and that the two of them had spent more than a few evenings together lately with Laura using Mom's laptop up in the sewing room, while Mom looked on and whispered things to Laura. She had seen them together one night while walking past in the darkened corridor and saw Laura fixated on an image on the screen, one similar to those Marcus had shared with her.

She also knew that Mark and Dad had been watching interracial porn in the basement and that Dad had been explaining the family's situation to him. She knew that Dad had loaned Mark a stack of interracial DVDs right before Christmas and over heard him saying, "No hurry getting them back. You two just enjoy!"

She felt sorry for the couple. It wasn't Mark's fault that he was cursed a little white peenie, and it wasn't Laura's fault that she didn't know about the superiority of black men and black cock before getting stuck with a white boy. She just felt lucky that Marcus had generously given her an education and saved her from a similar fate.

As she reflected on the street scene down below her, Marcus waited at the open threshold to her room, wondering what was on her mind. He drank her in looking at her bare feet, trim ankles, and her long, well muscled legs disappearing into the grey fly training shorts. He saw her twirling her hair, her finger stuck in a book and he had the sudden urge to rip the book away from her, to rip all the refinement from her life and make her beg for his black cock. Instead, he reminded himself that charm and patience were key to taking this one.

His eyes continued up her body to regard her tiny muscular ass, as he remembered how good it had felt when he held her and pressed his cock into her ass crack. Too bad Maggie and Jack had suddenly returned that day, of she would already be his, probably on her knees right now, sucking his cock and begging him to fuck her. It didn't matter though. Today would be the day she would surrender her innocence and her virginity to him. His gaze continued upward to see her slender frame highlighted through the perforated jersey as the light from the window partially penetrated it. His mouth watered as he thought of sucking her tiny nipples and biting her skin to mark his territory.

Across the room, Jennie felt a sudden chill as she realized she was being stared at. When she looked back over her shoulder and saw Marcus standing there, she started and dropped her poetry book on the floor. Sudden goosebumps grew on her bare arms.

Needing conversation to break the silence, she said simply, "Oh hi." and then bit her lower lips feeling like an awkward child.

Marcus strode into the room and said, "Hey baby, whatcha lookin' at."

Jennifer turned back to the window and pointed down to Mark and Laura. He stood behind her and watched the unfolding argument below them. Noticing her goosebumps, he started to warm the skin of her arms with his giant hands. She shuddered involuntarily at his closeness; her stomach churned and she felt weak inside. As the skin on her arms warmed, Marcus could feel it return to the consistency of ribbon candy, silky, smooth and taut.

He brushed the hair on her left cheek aside gently and moving closer to her so that he could press his rapidly engorging cock to her back and buttocks, commented on the scene in an intimate whisper, "You get what's happening over there, right? Little gal done discovered big black cock and now she wants some of it. She wants it. She wants it bad. And now her white bread - well he wants it too, only he can't admit it to hisself just yet."

In the silence that followed, Marcus started nibbling on her left ear, and experimentally stuck his tongue in her ear. He ran his hands up her bony shoulders and started massaging her slender neck though the arm holes of the baggy shirt. It felt incredibly good to Jennifer and she swayed as he massaged her. She began to relax for a moment and in an effort to regain control of the situation, she tried to steer the conversation back to Mark and Laura. She interjected, "Yeah, I know Mom and Dad have been helping them understand about black men, and I know Dad told Mark that he would lose her altogether unless he encouraged her to take a black boy friend."

As she was trying to make conversation, Marcus continued nibbling her ears and then his thick dark lips began laying kisses on her exposed neck. He planted deep kisses punctuated by little bites that would turn into dark hickeys by tomorrow. Her perfumed skin made him randy with desire. As his erection grew closer to its full eleven-inch size and he pressed it into her back a little more forcefully, his big hands moved down through the armholes and cupped her tiny breasts.

Jennifer panicked. This time there was no rescue by Mom and Dad. She felt as if she was going to be sick in her stomach, but she was frozen, and powerless and unable to move. Marcus felt her little breasts respond to his thumbs and forefingers, alternating between cupping and pulling on her nipples, then twirling them between his fingers. He felt her heart, beating wildly and her body trembling like a captive bird, his to command.

He continued to kiss her neck, then her cheek as, for the first time, he pressed his cock into her ass and back with full force, holding her against him with his palms pressed against her tits. Jennifer was unable to process everything that was happening to her. On the one hand, his kisses and the feeling his hands were producing were turning her into a melting puddle, her knees unable to support her weight. On the other hand, she felt for the first time in her life, an actual black cock, feeling hot and hard even through the material of her shorts. It scared the hell out of her and she thought she might be sick.

Marcus felt her knees trembling, and stopped kissing her long enough to whisper reassuringly, "Don't worry, Suga', ain't nothing going to happen up in here you don't want to happen, OK? We gonna take things nice and slow. You feel what I'm saying, girl?"

She swallowed hard, her mouth unable to form a single word, and just shook her head a couple times rapidly. Marcus moved his right hand from her breast while starting to flick her left nipple. He guided her right hand back behind her and rested it on his cock, which by now strained hard against his shorts. For the first time, she felt its enormous size and girth and gasped in shock. Finally, she said, "Yes, I feel you."

Marcus cupped her hand and forced her to squeeze his cock, then having taught that simple move to her, he brushed aside her hair from her right cheek and began kissing his way down her neck on that side. As he returned his hand to her breast, she continued squeezing his cock, thoughts comprised of a mixture of ecstasy and primal fear mingling in her brain.

She still could not control the shaking of her knees, and Marcus moved them backwards toward her bed saying, "Baby, it's ok to be nervous. Don't worry, I gotcha. I am in control. Come here and lay against me. Just relax."

They fell back onto the bed together with Jennifer resting against his chest. Her hand never left his cock as she continued to squeeze it. Instinctively, or perhaps from watching hours of porn given her by Marcus, she knew she needed to stroke him as well, so she added that motion and was rewarded with deep breathing and a low moan from Marcus.

Marcus stopped kissing her neck and back for a moment, lifted her arms, and whispering, "Let's get you more comfortable." whisked the jersey over her head and tossed it aside in the blink of an eye.