Cassandra Black

I sip my drink and scan the hotel bar—a few horny couples, possibly all cheaters looking for a secret getaway. There’s no love in the city, only pure lust and greed. They take part in the mandatory ritual of dinner and drinks when all they want to do is get up to their rooms and fuck.

Most of the women are younger than their male counterparts; they will have them cum unsatisfactory early in hopes that their sugar daddies will buy them new shiny things that will give them an empty feeling of some achievement.

The rest of the clientele are middle-aged men on business trips. Most of them are just winding down after an exhausting day; some are scanning the bar looking for a quick pussy to get them through the night.

Yeah, they all watch me. Why wouldn’t they? I’m fucking hot. Five foot five, massive tits that I like to show off, a slim waist, and a gorgeous round ass. My bright red dress is short enough that they don’t need much imagination to figure out just how perfectly round my buttocks are.

They almost drool as they watch the clasps on my black fishnet stockings, and their eyes practically bulge as they watch my perfect thighs and legs. My bright red stilettoes perfectly match my dress.

My braided black hair flows down my back, and my bright red lipstick contrasts my deep black skin. No wonder they think I’m the perfect little pussy to keep them company tonight; I’ve made sure to tramp myself up to the max.

At twenty-three, I must be such a temptation to them and such a fantasy away from their aging white women. They fantasize about shoving their white cocks into my black pussy, and I'm guessing they all have massive hard-ons already.

The balding man in front of me is the tenth guy I dismiss, and it almost pains me to do it. I’m almost deliriously horny; on a regular night I’d have them all fuck me, and I’d drain their little cocks until they begged me to stop.

Tonight isn’t a regular night, though. I’m not here for them or even myself. I’m here for him and her.

I watch the elevator doors, and finally, his tall frame steps out. He is gorgeous, blond, blue-eyed, and chiseled like a Greek god. My stare tracks him as he sits at the bar just a few stools away from me. His eyes meet mine, and he smiles and nods. I smile back, partially because I’m happy to have found him and partially because I have to get him intrigued.

“What are you having?” he asks.

“What are you offering?” I reply.

His stare has already wandered from my face down to my cleavage. He’s already undressing me, wondering how my perfectly round breasts will feel in his mouth.

“I prefer to buy my own drinks,” I continue, “You never know what intentions the men of this city have.”

“But I’m not from this city,” he parries.

“Then surprise me,” I say, shooting him a smile.

He orders the drinks and sits himself next to me. His scent is divine, the last thing my aching pussy needs.

“So,” he says, “what are you looking for tonight?”

I study his clean-shaven face; the sharp and angular jawline is taken from the book of perfection, giving him an air of effortless strength. His blonde hair falls in soft waves, framing his face with an almost ethereal quality. Like shards of ice, his piercing blue eyes add depth to his chiseled features that are both intimidating and mesmerizing. Every detail of his face, from the strong, straight nose to the high cheekbones, speaks of a classic beauty that feels almost otherworldly; indeed, it is as if the gods themselves sculpted him.

“You,” I answer truthfully in a lust-driven breath.

“How fortunate for me,” he says confidently as he throws back his drink, “another one?”

“I’ll have the same as you,” I smile back at him.

His eyes trace my back and stay fixed on my ass.

“Oh, you want to fuck that ass, don’t you?” I tease, but his eyes don’t retreat, and he doesn’t flinch.

“I insist,” he says, still with calm confidence.

He thinks I don’t see him spike my drink, but I know he doesn’t see me switch them around and add my own touch.

“Bottoms up!” I say, and my cunt almost cums as I watch him down the drink.

“Let’s fuck,” I whisper as I grab my purse.

He is eager and leads the way to the elevator, already his pants are bulging at the crotch, and I know he’s running hot. Has he noticed how his heart has started racing yet? As soon as the elevator doors open, he pushes in, swipes his key card, and presses the button on the eleventh floor.

He doesn’t even let the doors close before he pushes against me; his cock is rock hard against my crotch. He tries to kiss me, but I push him away.

“Kisses are for lovers and fools, and we are neither,” I pant through my arousal, but he doesn’t stop.

I didn’t expect him to either.

His tongue pushes inside my mouth, and frankly, what the hell, I guess it’s all part of the plan. I welcome the ‘ping’ as the elevator reaches the eleventh floor.

He guides me down the hall and to room 1118; I watch him fiddle with the key card as the effect of his rape drug is taking effect. Finally, the door clicks and the green light shines with approval.

I push him inside and rip his clothes off, fuck his cock is beautiful! He’s easy to push down on the bed; I can see how his thoughts have slowed behind his blue eyes.

“Dizzy, pretty boy?” I tease, knowing his cocktail is supposed to have that effect.

He offers little to no resistance as I pull my silk ropes out of my purse and first tie his arms above his head, then his feet to the legs of the bed, spreading him properly. The ball gag in his mouth is the final piece to my puzzle, making sure his eventual screams are subdued. He seems to enjoy me stripping out of my hooker-red dress, unclasping my stockings, and rolling them down. I think he enjoys my underwear, which is also red and very see-through. There is nothing left of me to his imagination, and still, he lets out a moan as my tits spring free of my bra and bounce teasingly at him.

I crawl on top of him, grinding my pussy against his impressive fuck-stick before I let him sample my tits with his mouth. His lips on me send shivers down my spine, and I feel my pussy gushing over him.

I desperately want to fuck his cock, but I must show restraint. At least for now.

“Are you wondering how you fucked up? Or hasn’t it quite dawned on you yet that I switched our drinks?”

The look on his face is priceless: confusion mixed with horror, shock mixed with terror, and, the best of it, insane arousal mixed with pure fear.

I slide myself down and take his beautiful cock in my mouth. Part of me wants to suck him dry, to take his thick sperm in my mouth and swallow him, but unbeknown to him; he will never cum again.

I think he starts to realize it when I spin my silk rope around the base of his cock, around his scrotum, and tighten it with all my force. My knot is tight and permanent. His cock will never breathe again.

I slide my pussy onto him. Fuck, he’s big! He’s never had an erection like this before, and he throbs delightfully inside me, filling me. I ride him, and I let him make me cum. It’s the best fucking orgasm I’ve had, completely empowered by knowing I can cum as many times I wish while he will only experience the horrid pain of release trapped inside his balls. His sperm will push against his blocked urethra, building intense pressure before retracting back into his bladder, dealing intense pain through each of his ejaculations.

Recovering from my release, I bend down to his face.

“You have some nerve coming back here,” I whisper.

I watch the confusion scramble his brain behind his blue eyes.

“Sophia Black,” I whisper, “raped and murdered. Rings a bell?”

I see the pieces fall into place.

“I’m going to continue to ride you until you cum in your own balls. And I will fucking enjoy it,” I tell him, “I’ll let you try and put the rest of the pieces together. I’m probably going to cum over your cock again, especially when the pain of your release tears through your balls and shatters your mind.”

He shivers, struggling to hold back, but I ride him over the edge, and he explodes within his balls. I can see how the pain tears his mind apart as his guttural screams stop at the big rubber ball in his mouth. Every muscle in his body is tense, and he trashes about it. I fear he will pass out.

And I let myself cum in ecstasy, gushing over his rock-hard cock.

As I slide myself off him, his cock and balls have turned a disgusting shade of blue.

“Yeah,” I moan, “Sophia was my sister. And four years ago, you raped her and cut her throat.”

I slide down onto the floor and rummage through my purse, finding my scalpel, then sit across his chest, looking at him.

“You took her eyes; no one’s told me if it was before or after, but I want to ensure you see everything. I am going to remove your eyelids now, and I encourage you to fucking lay still.”

He doesn’t; he trashes about.

“Careful,” I tell him, “You feel your heart racing? Yeah, I spiked your spiked drink. Why do you think you’re so fucking hard still? Because your heart is working overtime, pumping blood like crazy. And with all that blood trapped in your cock, it now believes it has to pump even harder. I’m not sure what will kill you eventually: blood loss, the searing pain you’ve yet to discover, or a simple heart attack. Rest assured, you will die tonight. Eventually.”

I bring my scalpel to his eye, and as I lift his eyelid, his scream only escapes him as a wet drool around his ball gag. There’s a surprising amount of muscle and blood vessels in a simple eyelid, and the blood pouring from his wide-open eyes turns me on yet again.

I slide down and watch his throbbing cock. Now displaying a bright purple hue.

“Did you know the cock has about four thousand nerve endings? There’s nothing quite like pushing such a marvelously delicate and sensitive organ into a wet pussy, is there? Imagine, though, if all those nerve endings were completely exposed. And then fucking my tight ass? How long would you last after I skin your cock?”

I must be careful not to cut into his throbbing purple fuck-stick. It will either explode and have him bleed out or implode with much the same result. I only need the outer layer of skin. His ball gag is filled with screams as I make my small incision, just enough to tear off the epidermis. His cock turns into a pink, throbbing piece of flesh, much like a dog’s. And that's exactly what he is: a filthy little dog. Except dogs are cute.

Trapped and rigid, slightly bleeding, his bare cock tempts my asshole. His wide open, staring eyes watch as I push my ass down on him and start riding him.

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I love it up my ass, do you? The police finally let us know you had raped her multiple times, her pussy and ass, probably for hours. You probably won’t last for hours, but I’ll make sure your death is as painful as can be. I see it in your staring eyes, through the blood, that you already fear your next orgasm.”

He has already given up, he knows his time has come, and when I make him cum again, the last straws of sanity leave his brain. I wish I could hear his screams; I imagine them filled with fear, pain, and a longing for death.

I think he enjoys it when I lift myself off his cock. I think he knows why I squat on his face and pee in his open eyes; I think he respects how he deserves it.

When I take the dildo to his ass and push inside him, he knows why I do it. I don’t think he knows precisely why I take the scalpel to his scrotum; I'm not entirely sure myself. I’m very careful when I split him open and expose his testicles. I want to slash them open but enjoy the gushing blood as they dangle painfully while I thrust the rubber cock into his ass. I watch his face twist, his blank stare as I rape his ass, thrusting mercilessly into his guts until my arm gets tired of fucking him.

Finishing with his ass, now gaping and bleeding, I perch his head up on a pillow, making sure he has a perfect view of the final act.

“We’re almost done here,” I whispered through my arousal, “I’m going to cut your cock off now; then I’m gonna lie here and masturbate as I watch you bleed out. Is it hard crying without eyelids?”

He thought he had gone free of charges for raping and killing my sister, on a technicality of all things. He had grown so confident that he hadn’t cared when he returned to my city. I had been nineteen when my older sister was taken away from me.

I watch his twisted face when I take the scalpel to the root of his cock. In many ways, it’s a shame to destroy such a gorgeous penis, but its owner sealed its fate four years ago.

The splatter of blood is intense. I let it shower my face, throat, and tits.

I lay beside him and rub myself like I promised I would, and when life fades behind his bloodshot eyes, I cum even harder than I did before.

I take the scalpel and free his testicles. I’m saving those for his wretched wife. In a few months, when she’s over the initial shock of his death, she, too, needs to pay for covering for her monster husband.

She’s equally guilty.

Yes, I will visit her as well. I love pussy as much as I love cock, and I want her to suffer the way he did. Maybe more. She’s every bit as guilty as him.

I haven’t had time to plan it all out yet. I think I’ll start by removing her teeth, either smashing them in with a hammer or pulling them with pliers. I’ll have her toothless gums suck my clit while I cut her open and gut her. I’ll remove her uterus as I cum on her face. I should have enough local anesthesia to subdue the pain. If not, I’ll cum twice as hard at her pain.

When it’s time to gag her, it will be his dried testicles in her mouth. Perhaps I’ll fist her cunt and ass through her gaping guts and force her to watch.

Perhaps I’ll bring their lawyer to watch as her life escapes her, letting him know he’s next. The weasel let them both off the hook. He disgusts me too much to fuck him, I haven’t figured out what treatment he will receive, but I know he’s going to eat his own fucking cock. He will chew every little bit of it and swallow because he’s too much of a coward not to. I might stitch him up and let him live a cock-less life, but I’ll make sure he won’t be able to represent another monster. Ever.

Am I worried the police will get me before I’m done? They’re all sleazebags who have escaped the law for too long. Sure, their deaths will be gloriously spread in the news, but I wonder how detailed the reports will be. I know I’m going to rub myself into orgasm reading about it.

I’m not too worried about law enforcement; it’s the politics of who knows who that might be a problem. Maybe they have friends in high places who demand some sort of justice for them. As far as I’m concerned, they’re getting exactly the kind of justice they deserve.

Regardless, I can play cat and mouse for a while. Anyone siding with them is my enemy, and I just learned I cum hard watching people die. Watching sinners suffer is the ultimate turn-on, and me and my pussy? We are the perfect avengers.