by Dana Cruise
BLACK POWER
A Sexy BWWM Collection
Dana Cruise
Contents
Copyright
Preface
1. Broken
2. Hooked
3. Maid To Serve
4. Bonus Book!
Hungry for more?
Special Thank You and BIG Kisses!
Also by Dana Cruise
Copyright © 2016 by Dana Cruise
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Ready for some hot, hard action? You won’t find anything sexier than this HUGE BWWM fantasy bundle!
As a special bonus I’ve also included a free book at the end from an author I love. Enjoy!
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1
Broken
BROKEN
By Dana Cruise
I’m a good girl.
I live at home with my very strict, very religious parents. I'm a black girl living in a very white town, I go to a local community college, and I volunteer in the neighborhood. On Sundays we all go to church and after school I sit at home and knit, before telling my parents that I’m going to join my friends at a local coffee shop, to study and talk about The Bible. I dress in my very conservative clothes, skirts never above the knee, shirts never showing any cleavage, and kiss my mom and stepfather on the cheek and wish them a good night, before hopping into my car and turning out of the driveway.
I then drive to the strip club in the city where I perform naked in front of hundreds of horny men, every week.
There’s always been a seedy side to me. My mom was born a poor black girl and did whatever she needed to do to survive. Her brothers were in and out of prison, her dad went missing when she was seven.
Which is exactly what happened to my birth father. He went out one day for a pack of cigarettes and never came home – leaving my mom and me alone and penniless. We scrimped, we stole, we took whatever handouts we could get. When my mom met the man who would eventually be my stepdad we were saved.
He's so different to us. He's middle class, very conservative, and very white. I sometimes wondered what he saw in her – in us. When I first met him I certainly didn't think that he'd be the kind of guy who was attracted to black women. The events that unfolded though told me that black girls were certainly his 'type'.
When I was younger I discovered my body and would spend any precious moment alone playing with myself - using whatever I could find to get myself off. I would take long hot showers, directing the stream of hot water onto my tits, my stomach, and my pussy. I would take travel sized shampoo bottles and push them into myself, into my ass, into my wet pussy. I would lie on my bed with my fingers all over myself, diving into my cunt, toying my clit, pinching my chocolate nipples. I would dream of the day when a man would take control over me, tying me down and fucking me senseless.
A white man, preferably.
I don't exactly know why, but I've always had a thing for white guys. I've had so many people tell me that I should stick to my race, but there's something about the white skin of a guy against mine. I guess I love the contrast, the ebony against ivory feel – the taboo. What I didn't know was how much I would enjoy the extra taboo...
All in all, though, a strip club is a perfect place for me to work.
I first had the idea when I was talking with Carol - one of my friends - at the coffee house. Back in the days when I would actually go to the coffee house in the evenings. We were talking about ways to make some extra money to pay for a spring break vacation to Mexico, and were going through the typical available options.
“You could work at a fast food place?” she said, trying to lift my spirits. She didn’t have to get a job, her parents are rich and generous. She pulls into the school parking lot in her new Mercedes and always wears the latest fashions. If she wasn't a friend I'd be happy to call her a prissy white bitch to her face. As it is, I just say it behind her back. “They’re always hiring, right?”
“There’s a reason for that” I said, turning up my nose. “They pay minimum wage and treat you like shit. The work sucks and you go home smelling like a burger. Isn’t there something else?”
“The mall?” she said, with a little more hope. “Plenty of stores there looking for clerks. Cute girl like you could work for any of them.”
“Ugh” I said, with disdain. “Minimum wage again and to stand on my feet all day. I dunno. Maybe. There’s got to be a better way.”
“They’re hiring at Whirlwind” she said with a cheeky smile, clearly joking. “You know, the strip club in town – It’s on their billboard, I passed it tonight. ‘Girls needed - amateur night auditions tonight’ it said. There! Perfect for you!”
I looked up at her, aware that this moment had to potential to change my life.
“Okay” I said, nervously. “I’ll do it.”
My heart was pounding as I waited to the side of the stage, waiting for my name to be called. I had driven to the club with Carol, who at every stoplight asked me again if I was serious about doing this. I was, I had never been more serious about anything in my life before, but I was also incredibly apprehensive and just wanted to get it over and done with as soon as possible. I had no ‘show’ clothes so decided that when I go there I would just strip to my bra and panties, thankfully matching, thankfully scandalously sexy. Sure, my visible clothes may be ultra conservative, mainly for the benefit of my parents, but my underwear I buy especially for myself at the slutty store in the mall - they make me feel like a sexy young black woman underneath prim, boring clothing. Today I had felt especially horny when dressing and wore my crotchless, white lace panties with a bra that struggled to contain my 34DD boobs. With a quick shedding of my outer layer and a liberal splash of makeup I could go from sweet to sinful in seconds, and I intended to make the most of this ‘audition’.
While I was nervous, waiting at the side of the stage, I couldn’t help but feel turned on. I could literally smell the hormones in the room, the heat of the audience. I peeked around the curtain to see that there was a crowd of 50 or more men, each of them white, each staring at the stage, each soon to stare at me. The air slightly chilled on stage as I stood, watching the girl before me as she writhed on the floor, my nipples hard as I watched her and the reaction of the guys in the club. Dollar bills rained down on her, whistles and cheers from the men as her song finished. As she gathered herself and her cash and tottered off stage I took a deep breath, heard the opening bars of ‘Dream On’ fill the air, and my hastily conceived stage name - ‘Darkness Fox’ called.
I strode onto the stage, a rush of confidence hitting me. Eyes all over me, these men all hungry to see me move. I swayed my hips to the music and felt their appreciation as I loosened my bra, spinning as I threw it into the crowd. A roar of approval greeted the unveiling of my tits, my nipples like bullets as my boobs swung through the air - eager to make the most of my three minutes on stage I stood, my legs spread, my hands on my hips, my perky, velvety breasts proudly on display to all. I swung gently to the music as my hands ran down and across my body, I swiveled on my heels and faced the back of the stage as I lurched forwards, grabbing my ankles, displaying my ass to the room.
My excitement palpable, my pussy drenching at the thought of all of these men now with a grandstand view of my asshole. I felt so vulnerable yet so in control, knowing that any of these men could reach forwards and violate me, secure in the knowledge that if they did, the bouncers would stop them and deli
ver their own special brand of justice. The slight whiff of danger was enough though, my knees began to knock as the thought of being set upon by a dozen horny drunk men thrilled me to the core. I reached my hands to my ass, parting my moons, spreading my crotchless panties further - baring my glistening pussy to the world. No shame, no hesitation, full on nudity in front of a room of strangers and god did I love it. I was intoxicated by this, loving every second as my song clicked towards its end. Dollar bills rained down onto the floor around my feet, men looked up to me smiling, grabbing their cocks through their pants, cheering me, clapping me, wanting me.
I strode around the stage confidently, milking the audience, rubbing my hands all over my tits. Pausing to take a soft nipple into my mouth, winking at the crowd - stealing the show. When the DJ announced that my time was up I bowed graciously to applause and cash, I turned and bowed once more, presenting my asshole and pussy for a final time that evening.
But not for good. The manager of the strip club approached me as soon as I had stepped off the stage. I was still undressed when he offered me a permanent position, I would work there on Wednesdays and Thursdays - in the evening, with a promise of a weekend night if things went well. He told me that most of the girls who worked were 'white trash skanks', he thought that a smart looking black girl could give the place some class.
Look at how far my race has come...
And things certainly went well. I had kitted myself at the slutty store at the mall, I had my wardrobe and my special sickeningly strong perfume. I walked onto the stage to a ripple of applause and walked off with the crowd on their feet and a stack of dollar bills in my hand. I was popular, the hot new girl, wanted.
I soon learned that there were two kinds of girls at the strip club. There were girls like me, who loved to dance and please, and liked to make good money. I was walking out of that place with $200 - $300 a night, which was beyond my wildest expectations.
There were also girls who worked there, who didn’t need to be as hot, didn’t need to be as good at dancing. They didn’t need to rely on the dollar bills from the crowd, and they didn’t need to smile sweetly at everyone. And they were leaving the place with $1000 and more every night. These were the girls who would walk the room between their shifts, chat the guys up, then take them up to the VIP and blow them, and fuck them for cash.
I first knew about this on my second night. I suppose I had been naive, blinkered. Private dances were offered by most of the girls and I was working my way up to that, getting my nerves together before I actually approach a guy and ask him for $20 in exchange for rubbing my ass over his clothed cock. I knew that there was good money to be made there, but it felt a little too personal, too close. I knew I would move into it as I continued to work there, but at the time I was happy with the money that I was making and happy with how I felt about it.
On that second night I overheard two of the girls talking in the dressing room. They were both older than me, old pros. White skanks, the kind that you'd see on Jerry Springer. They had worked at Whirlwind for years and were well known in the city, even people who didn’t go to strip clubs knew them as the women who stripped.
I was putting some things into my locker when I heard them, talking about a customer who was apparently a regular. I had heard mention of him before, everyone called him ‘Ringmaster’, due to a top hat that he wore to the club. He always had girls around him - as soon as he stepped onto the premises - and throughout his time there. All of the girls loved him, and all of them wanted to be close to him - and for one reason. He was loaded, and he gave out cash to the girls like they were his spoiled teenaged daughters.
“You want to go in with the ringmaster tonight?” one of them said. “He called me, he’ll be here in an hour. He’s looking for a threeway. Said he really wants a black girl, but told me he wants to fuck me while I lick a girl out. Are you in?”
“Fuck yeah” the other said. “What’s he paying?”
“The usual” the first girl said. “$1000 each.”
I stood, leaning against the door in shock. $1000 per girl! That was some serious money. I was looking to buy a new car and had figured that a couple of weeks working at the club might get me enough for a decent enough vehicle. But $1000 for a single night? That could buy the car outright! I hadn’t even considered fucking someone for money but this was some serious cash! And by the sounds of it, this guy liked black girls... I could really clean up here!
I spent the rest of the night in a daze. I saw the ringmaster coming into the club but only from a distance, his top hat moving through the crowd - girls following him, men craning their necks to see what all of the fuss was about. This man was a celebrity, the center of attention, the man that all of the girls wanted to be around. I never saw his face that night, just the back of him as he walked up the staircase to the VIP rooms, a girl on each arm.
I looked on with a mixture of curiosity and jealousy. Mainly jealousy, I wasn’t used to being on stage - as naked as the day that I was born - with more eyes on someone else. I wanted to be going up the stairs with the ringmaster, I wanted to be next.
The next night, Thursday, was a slow night. The crowd was thinner, people clearly saving themselves for the weekend. I felt flat on the stage, I wasn’t working it as much as I knew that I could and my earnings were low because of it. I knew that I could do better but I was just having an off night, I was thinking about calling it a day when someone walked into the club to change my mind.
The ringmaster.
I saw his top hat from a mile away. He wound through the crowd and sat in a darkened corner, surveying the room. I don’t think that he even saw me as I finished my set quickly, eager to get my skimpy clothes back on and my ass into the room, to claim him before one of the other girls did.
My heart was in my mouth as I scurried towards him. I knew that it was taking things further than I was perhaps comfortable with, but damn it did I want the money, and by all accounts the ringmaster was a fairly gentle, considerate partner. As I approached his table I still couldn’t see his face, his top hat covering his eyes – but I could see from his hands that he was white. I stood with my hands behind my back, my chest pushed out - waiting for him to notice me.
I stared at him as his hat slowly rose. His still concealed face - his eyes clearly checking out my outfit, my body. I first saw his mouth, open - licking his lips as he cast his gaze over my tits. I felt flushed as he nodded quietly, then gasped as our eyes met for the first time. The ringmaster was looking right at me. The ringmaster was my strict, white, conservative, bible bashing stepfather.
“What the fuck!” we both whispered, in unison.
“What are you doing here?!” he said, his eyes wide. Under normal circumstances I’m sure that he would have dragged me from such a place and put me under a strict curfew, but we both knew that we were both guilty parties here - we both had a lot to lose.
“Working” I said, pushing out my black chest. I knew that I could easily tell mom what was happening here, and I knew she’d be delighted to know where their retirement income was being spent. “I started here last month. I’m quite good at it too, you’d be proud.”
“I see” he said, clearly taken aback at my confidence. “I suppose I don’t really need to explain what I’m doing here, do I?”
I took a seat next to him, a smile breaking out across my lips.
“You’re famous around here, you know” I said laughing. “Everyone loves you. You’re generous, too - apparently.”
He smiled back at me. In that moment we both seemed to relax a little.
“Your mother and me haven’t had sex in years” he said, cradling his drink in his hands. “She doesn’t look at me the way that she used to, she hasn’t desired me - she doesn’t find me attractive.”
“Really?” I said, legitimately surprised. He may have been my stepfather for 5 years but I still thought he was cute, sexy even. Salt and pepper hair, a good strong body and a cheeky smile - if he wasn’t such
a strict parent I would have probably thought more about him in a sexual way. “I do. I think you’re attractive.”
“Now now” he said, smiling even more. “I’m not one of the other guys, I know it’s all an act, you girls say that to everyone.”
“It’s true” I said, leaning closer to him. “Honestly, I think you’re sexy. I’d fuck you.”
He leaned back, looking at me. His eyes drifted to my chest, my skimpy bra barely covering my tits.
“You know”, he said in a low voice. “Before I saw your face, before I knew it was you… I thought I’d found my new favorite girl. I've always liked black girls, you know.”
I held my head back, laughing. Aware that we were both thinking the same thing, aware that I was okay with this.
“$1000” I said. “$1000 and mom doesn’t need to know a thing.”
He downed his drink and stared at me. A thousand thoughts whizzing through his head.
“Deal” he said, standing.
I held his hand, walking with him to the stairs. Opening the door to one of the VIP rooms we were alone, together. Turning towards each other he took off his top hat and placed it on the chair.
I kneeled in front of him, my heart in my mouth as I slowly unzipped his pants. His shirt removed by its owner, his belt loosened by his stepdaughter. I gasped as the outline of his cock became apparent, his thickness surprising me, his length taking my breath away. His hands fell to my head as I moved closer to him with my mouth open.
I swirled my tongue around the head of his dick, causing him to gasp slightly. His hand tightened its grip on my hair as I slid him into my mouth. As I fed him into me I took my fingernails to his balls, scratching him gently as I pushed his meat into me. His thickness took me by surprise, I had to widen my mouth to fit him inside and could soon feel him harden as my tongue flicked at his head. I applied pressure to his shaft, stroking him as I bobbed on his cock. Soon with two hands gripping him I sucked strongly, saliva running down the top of his dick and nestling in his pubic hair. I could feel my pussy moistening, soaking through to my pants as I pleasured my daddy.