A small black woman rapes a white man at gun point. He was Mr. Lucky and she used him and abused him.
Mr. Lucky
Millie Dynamite
The town was far removed from the problems of the big city. What little crime occurred in the sleepy hamlet was of the misdemeanor variety. Boys dreamed of running away from the community while the girls dreamed of marrying the local boys and running off with them. That night was no different than ten thousand others that had proceeded it. The local movie theater ran features on both screens, two showings of each feature that evening. After all, it was Saturday. The young projectionist locked the doors once everyone had left and watched as the owner drove off throwing him a wave. The projectionist turned to the janitor and he cleaned up the mess.
Shortly after he began he heard the old clock in the town square start chiming out the hour, twelve mournful clangs intoned the midnight hour. He could barely hear the bell ring out as he swept up the last of the popcorn. Carefully he placed the garbage in the dumpsters in the back and looked up at the overcast clouds. He could just make out the dim glow through the dense cloud cover of the full moon. Looking around he saw thin curls of fog seemingly rising from the ground, in a few moments, he stared at the vacant lot behind the theater the fog grew. He rushed in to mop quickly and head for home. He hated walking through thick fog and he had a feeling this was going to be heavy.
He ran up the stairs to the booth and gathered up his books, placing them quickly in the leather satchel. It was called a soft briefcase, but he thought it looked like a purse – he hated it but being a gift from his mother he always carried it. Moving from the booth he caught his reflection in the office doors glass windows. Shit – I look like some fag carrying a purse. He had to figure out a way to lose the damn thing. He walked at a brisk pace down the stairs. Looking at the glass doors, he couldn’t even see across the street.
A thick fog hung over the streets like a blanket of white. He locked the door behind him and began to walk toward home. A pair of large dark eyes watched him – hungry, lustful eyes. Softly she moved from the recessed door of the jewelry store. Sneakers softly followed the boy. They squeaked, but so softly that the fog swallowed up the sound.
He walked at a brisk pace he wanted to get home fast. He hated the fog it had an eerie effect on him. He decided to cut through City Park, a small play zone for children. He would cross the stream at the old bridge. It was the fastest way to his house he walked on the boards of the old wooden covered bridge, the stream below babbled as the water rushed over rocks. He didn’t hear her the water was too loud and she walked softly. Pain jumped on his head as he walked from under the cover of the bridge. A sharp crack on the right side of the back of his head knocked him to the ground. Pain spread across his head which became as foggy as the night air.
“Don’t move your cracker ass, Mr. Lucky,” slowly he realized the voice was that of a female. A furious lady’s voice had a harsh tone that told him Lucky didn’t mean good luck. Tensing up he thought to roll over and spring on her. Then the sharp click sound made him freeze. “I’ll blow you a new asshole if you try anything. Get up Mr. Lucky come on boy get to your feet.”
His heart pounded in his chest almost to the point that it hurt. He pushed up and stood there tense not knowing what was coming. “Keep your eyeballs looking straight ahead don’t turn around or I’ll blast your guts out with this,” she jabbed him in the ribs with the barrel of a gun. “Turn to your right and go down under the bridge.”
“I got some money you can have it,” his voice cracked as he spoke.
“Shut the fuck up Mr. Lucky move your skinny white ass now,” she poked him again. “Go on now right up under the bridge.” His heart felt like it was in his throat. There was something in her voice, it was anger, or perhaps something else, something darker. He was afraid for his life now.
“Now you might think you can just run away but I’ll fucking blow your head off if you try,” again she hit him in the ribs hard with the barrel of the gun. “You do believe me don’t you Mr. Lucky?” He tread down the slick bank he had no doubt she would kill him if he tried to run. The sound of the water rushing over the rocks grew louder as they moved under the bridge right down to the edge of the water. “Far enough Brady boy.” Reaching around him, she grabbed his crotch.
“Figures, fucking Brady boy special – motherfucking 5-inch cocktail wiener,” she hissed at him. She pulled his briefcase from him and tossed it up higher on the bank. “Fucking fag carrying a purse,” she reached around again and squashed his package. “Fucking like a rock you cracker fags get fear boners so easy. Get your pants off boy.”
“No,” he barked out in defiance. The gun struck him across the back then again on the back of his head. He dropped to his knees crying as he held the back of his head. Putting her mouth right up to his ear, she shoved the gun his back hard.
“Don’t give me shit you fucking sissy fag,” she whispered in his ear but the words sounded like the hissing of a snake. The danger of his predicament was not lost on him the moment of bravado had brought an instant reaction from her. He realized his life meant nothing to her and the threat to his life was real. “I’m tempted to just kill you right now. But I want something first. Now get out of those pants and that shirt off your skinny body.”
Quickly he stripped to his underwear she forced him to roll over growling in his ear the instructions. “That’s it cracker boy flat on your back. Now lose the tidy whities,” he pulled them down she unceremoniously snatched them from his hand and threw them into the water. She started whacking his ridged cock with the barrel of the gun. He noted it was an automatic other than that he could tell nothing. His blood rushed through his veins as his heart pumped harder than he could remember.
“I’m gonna rape you boy, gonna ride you for all your Itty bitty dick is worth,” light from a poll on the shore behind them shown around her body like a halo. Her curly hair stood out from her head and the light showed through the outer parts of the curly hair like fire. The wet fog-engulfed them clutching to their bodies. She slowly began to undress, it was almost seductive the way she peeled out of her clothing. She was short, almost tiny, but her breast were large and appeared to be buoyant. In the dim light, he couldn’t make out much but could tell her skin was dark, very dark. She had a slim waist and ample, but not fat, ass. He could just make out a thick curly triangle patch of pubic hair.
She straddled him and leaned down, her big dark brown eyes were mere inches from his. Still he couldn’t tell you what she looked like. She was – sexy for sure, but individual features were lost. The only thing he knew was she had a gun, his heart pounded as she slid her slick pussy over his cock.
“You’re a pathetic little cracker,” she whacked his face with the gun his eye blackened as his cheek burned. His prick grew just a bit. “Damn boy stick it in or I’ll fucking blow your brains out and fuck worthless little cock anyway.” He thrust up with his hips sliding into her. She began to bounce on him straightened up she arched her back and pounded down on him.
“I don’t want no cracker baby so you better not lose your load or I’ll put one right between your blue devil eyes.” She struck the gun across his jaw and then back hitting the other side. She pounded up and down her body weighing less than 100 pounds filled him with a white hot passion. She belittled him as she fucked him striking him several more times breaking his nose. She continued to repeat her threat.
“If you pop that nut I’m gonna shot your ass bitch.” Turning around her back to him he felt it, the gun. God where he felt it. “I’m not kidding bitch, lose it I’ll blow you a new asshole.” With that, his anus felt the tearing pain as the gun thrust in him. She looked over her shoulder at him her big white teeth showed in the dark an evil grin on her face.
He tried to stop it, he strained to keep from losing it, didn’t want to piss her off. Then he tried to pull out of her she forced her body down on him his cock began to twitch then spit cum out in a thick stream. Like a flash, she jumped off and his limp cock fell to his balls straddling his face she pushed her cum soaked pussy in his face.
“I told you not to do that boy,” she clutched his hair and pushed him to her tight. “Eat that fucking cum out of me you worthless cracker fag.” He did as instructed until he felt her hips bucking into his face and flood of vaginal fluid gushed across his face. She held his face to her pussy for some time then let go. Banging his head against the hard ground several times she again hit his face with the gun.
Standing over him she pointed the gun down at him, “Told you, motherfucker, don’t blow your nut.” The gun barked a white flash jumped from the barrel pain tore through his shoulder. He heard a plinking sound as the shell ejected onto a rock on the ground. Darkness covered him.
“Come on cracker…” his head ached from the beatings. “Wake up you fucking worthless Brady boy.” His mouth was dry. The light burned his eyes as his lids fluttered open. He tried to lift his arms, but something tight on his wrist kept him from moving it. He tried the other arm but it to would not move. He blinked his eyes trying to adjust to the abundant light in the room.
“Too much light, sugar?” Turning his head, he saw the nurse move. She turned the small wand and the blinds rolled shut. The light level in the room dropped. She moved away from the window, she was shapely petite woman. Her hips were wide her ass round but not fat. As she turned to her side at the foot of the bed and made an adjustment to his bed he noticed she had big breast. Her hair was long and quite curly, rather dark. It dawned on him she was black, quite dark actually.
She walked up to him her full firm lips had bore a sweet smile, she had large eyes and they were very dark brown. “Open wide baby,’ she spoke with a silken sweet voice. He opened his mouth as her hand moved his mouth. Something was shoved in his mouth, she pushed in deep where he couldn't move it out. He struggled to look around and noticed his ankles were fastened with restraints to the bed. The same was true of his wrist there was a straight edge razor on the tray over his bed. He shook his head no and tried to speak. She slapped his face hard and moved away from him. Grabbing the metal chair she drug it to the door and shoved the back of it under the knob. She pushed it in tight.
“We don’t want no one interrupting your balls being shaved now do we sweetie,” she moved like a cat toward him. A vicious black cat she pulled down his tight shirt a little and ripped the bandage from his shoulder. “Don’t look to me like those stitches are in all that good,” she balled up a fist and slammed it down on the wound. He cried out in agony into the panty gag in his mouth. She repeated it, “Now see all that screaming and hollering you have torn them lose.” She grabbed his hospital gown and tore it from his body. Grabbing the knife she crawled on top of him. “Now then Mr. Lucky you better get that little dick bigger and fuck me longer than last night or I’m gonna cut that little prick off and stuff it in your mouth.” She held the razor at his throat and then deftly used it to cut the stitches, she turned the handle down to round gaping wound and shoved it down in the hole.
"Well you better get to thrusting them hips you lazy mother fucker!" Two hours later the small black woman left the hospital. Mr. Lucky laid on the bed blood oozing from his shoulder, his balls ached but he wasn't sure if they or his cock was still actually there.