Chapter 5

Kennedy’s pulse hammered as the SUV glided to a stop before the Vanderholt mansion, its white marble facade glowing like a palace under the midday sun. Her pale, teenage skin burned with lust, her massive fake tits—bruised from Trayvon’s brutal grip—strained against her neon-pink bikini top, nipples hard beneath the thin fabric. Her black leather micro-skirt rode up, exposing her hot-pink thong, soaked from her dripping pussy, while fishnet thigh-highs hugged her thighs, her six-inch platform stilettos clicking as she stumbled out of the backseat. Her white hands clawed at Trayvon’s dark, tattooed biceps, his 6’4” black frame dwarfing her curvaceous figure. His rough fingers mauled her thong-clad ass, digging into her bruised flesh, while her nails raked his ebony chest, her body pressed tight against his as they climbed out of the vehicle.

“Fuck, jailbait, you a fine-ass white slut,” Trayvon rasped, his voice thick with prison-yard menace, his dark eyes stripping her bare. “Gonna rip that tight pussy apart in this fancy-ass crib.”

Kennedy moaned, her glossy lips parting, green eyes glazed with masochistic hunger. “Oh, Trayvon, you’re so fucking dirty,” she purred, her pale fingers stroking his massive cock bulge through his jeans, feeling it throb. “Wreck my white pussy with that thick nigga dick, please.” Her tongue flicked across her lips, her creamy cleavage heaving as she ground against him.

Richard and Regina staggered out of the SUV, their faces ghost-white with dread. Richard’s tailored suit hung limp, his salt-and-pepper hair matted with sweat, his fists trembling as he choked back a gasp. Regina’s elegant blonde updo unraveled, her designer dress creased, her hands shaking as she clutched her purse. Their precious daughter, once a vision of innocence, was a depraved spectacle, her white skin fused to Trayvon’s black, criminal bulk, her body writhing under his groping hands. They stood paralyzed, eyes wide with horror, as Kennedy’s sultry giggles pierced the air.

Trayvon’s gaze roamed the mansion, his lips twisting into a predatory grin. “Yo, jailbait, this crib’s straight-up baller,” he said, his street swagger dripping. His eyes locked on the open garage, where Richard’s restored white Bentley convertible gleamed like a trophy. “Damn, that ride’s pimp as fuck. Your pops livin’ large.”

Kennedy whined, yanking his hand, her stilettos wobbling on the driveway. “Trayvon, fuck that car,” she pouted, her glossy lips puckering as she thrust her bruised tits forward, the neon-pink fabric barely containing them. “I need you pounding me stupid right fucking now.” Her white hips swayed, flashing her thong, her pussy throbbing for his abuse.

Trayvon laughed, a low, guttural sound, and cracked his dark hand across her pale ass, the slap ringing out. Kennedy yelped, stumbling, her thong-clad cheeks quivering as pain seared through her. She loved it, her pussy clenching with ecstasy as she wiggled against him, clutching his arm. “That’s my nasty white hoe,” he growled, dragging her toward the mansion’s grand doors. “Time to fuck shit up.”

The oak doors parted, revealing the mansion’s lavish interior—polished marble floors, glittering chandeliers, sleek leather furniture. Trayvon’s boots thumped, his black frame radiating menace as he surveyed the space. “This place is tight, but it’s too soft,” he sneered. “Needs some real nigga shit—gold-plated sinks, diamond-crusted lights, make it scream ‘I own this bitch.’”

Kennedy giggled, her white skin glowing against his dark grip on her waist. “Whatever you want, baby,” she cooed, leading him to the living room, her micro-skirt flashing her thong with every step. Richard and Regina trailed, their steps faltering, torn between fleeing and watching their daughter’s ruin. Regina’s tears glistened, Richard’s jaw clenched, but they couldn’t tear their eyes from Kennedy’s depraved sway.

In the living room, Kennedy snatched her phone, her long nails tapping as she linked to the high-end sound system—Richard’s sanctuary for classical symphonies. She queued up K-Shank’s “Break That Bitch,” the gangsta-rap track exploding through the speakers, its bass rattling the chandeliers. Lyrics pounded—”Smack that hoe, make her beg for more”—setting Kennedy’s pulse racing. Trayvon’s grin flashed, his dark eyes blazing with approval.

“Fuckin’ A, jailbait, you pick the real shit,” he said, yanking her close, his black hands squeezing her bruised fake tits until she squealed. “K-Shank’s my nigga. Gonna fuck you raw to this.”

Kennedy moaned, collapsing onto a plush cream couch with Trayvon, straddling his lap, her thong grinding against his cock bulge, her pale tits pressed against his ebony chest. Before diving deeper, she grabbed her phone again, flipping to the camera. “Hold up, baby, gotta flex this,” she purred, nestling closer, her white cheek against his dark jaw. She angled the phone to capture her pouty lips, massive fake tits, and Trayvon’s tattooed arm around her, his menacing grin in the frame. Snapping the selfie, she posted it to Instagram with a caption: “Brought my thug bae home to my palace! Ready to get wild with my king! #ThugBae #SluttyQueen #BadBitchVibes #FakeTitsSlay #LivingForHim.” Notifications pinged instantly. BadBoiVibes commented: “Yo, you wild for this! That dude looks like he owns the streets! Pure fire!” SlaySiren wrote: “Kennedy, you’re serving LOOKS and attitude! Slay that thug life!!” HoodDreamer added: “Damn, girl, you out here living dangerous and hot AF! Respect!!”

Tossing her phone aside, Kennedy moaned, her white lips smashing against Trayvon’s, their tongues wrestling as she ground harder on his lap. His dark fingers ripped her bikini top down, her massive implants spilling out, bruises stark on her creamy skin. She clawed his tattoos, her nails leaving red trails, while he pinched her nipples, twisting until she screamed, her body shuddering with pain-fueled bliss.

“You my dirty white bitch, right?” Trayvon snarled, his dark lips sucking her bruised nipple, teeth scraping as she arched into him. “These fake tits made for my nigga dick.”

“Fuck yes, Trayvon, I’m your slut!” Kennedy cried, her voice raw as she humped his lap, her white hands fumbling his zipper to free his eleven-inch black cock. It sprang free, thick and veiny, and she worshipped it, her pale fingers stroking its length. “God, it’s so fucking huge, gonna split my white cunt open!”

Richard and Regina hovered at the room’s edge, their world collapsing. Richard’s breath rasped, his knuckles white as he watched Kennedy’s white body grind against Trayvon’s black bulk, her screams of pleasure knifing through him. Regina’s hands trembled, stifling sobs, her elegant beauty shattered by the gangsta-rap’s vile pulse—”Pound that pussy, make it bleed”—and Kennedy’s filthy moans. The music mocked their despair, K-Shank’s rhymes fueling the depravity.

Trayvon’s hand cracked Kennedy’s ass again, the red handprint blooming on her pale cheek as she squealed, her pussy gushing. “Gonna fuck this underage hoe till you break,” he growled, shoving her down to lick his cock, her glossy white lips wrapping around the tip, tongue swirling. “Suck that nigga dick, slut.”

“Mmm, Trayvon, it’s so fucking good,” Kennedy moaned, choking herself on his shaft, her eyes watering but her pussy clenching in ecstasy. She bobbed her head, drool dripping, as his dark hand fisted her hair, forcing her deeper. “Use me, baby, I’m your white fucktoy!”

Their bodies rocked to the music’s savage beat, Kennedy’s pale curves writhing against Trayvon’s dark muscle, their groping hands relentless—his fingers bruising her tits, her nails scraping his thighs. Their nasty talk filled the room, a symphony of filth. Richard’s heart pounded with shame, Regina’s tears fell unchecked, but Kennedy was lost, her teenage world consumed by Trayvon’s black, violent dominance, her body his to command.

Kennedy’s white throat bobbed as Trayvon’s massive black cock choked her, his dark hand fisting her glossy brunette hair, forcing her glossy lips deeper onto his eleven-inch shaft. Her pale cheeks hollowed, tears streaming down her face, smearing her mascara as she gagged violently, the wet, choking sounds filling the Vanderholt’s lavish living room. K-Shank’s “Break That Bitch” pulsed through the high-end sound system, its filthy lyrics—”Choke that hoe, make her throat my home”—egging on her masochistic ecstasy. Her massive fake tits, bruised and bouncing, pressed against Trayvon’s ebony thighs, her neon-pink bikini top dangling uselessly, her hot-pink thong soaked as her pussy clenched with every brutal thrust into her mouth.

“Yo, look at your little white princess,” Trayvon sneered, his dark eyes glinting as he glanced at Richard and Regina, frozen in horror at the room’s edge. “Takin’ this nigga dick down her throat like a pro slut. Bet you never thought your jailbait’d be this nasty.” His voice dripped with cruel pride, his hips bucking to shove his thick, veiny cock deeper, making Kennedy’s green eyes water.

Kennedy moaned, the vibrations humming around his shaft, her pale hands gripping his muscular black thighs for support. His dirty talk set her teenage body ablaze, her pussy dripping as she reveled in his dominance and her parents’ despair. She pushed her head down harder, gagging herself violently, her throat spasming around his massive black cock, tears spilling as she fought to please him, her bruised fake tits jiggling with every choke.

“Earn that nigga dick, you white hoe,” Trayvon growled, his dark fingers tightening in her hair, yanking her head back and forth. “Show me you deserve this shit.”

Kennedy whimpered, her glossy lips stretched wide, drool dripping onto her creamy cleavage as she nodded frantically. She shoved her head down further, her throat burning, gagging so hard her vision blurred, but her pussy throbbed with masochistic bliss. Trayvon’s cruel chuckle rumbled above her, and with a sharp tug, he used her thick hair to pull her off his cock, her lips popping free with a wet gasp. She coughed, tears streaking her pale cheeks, but her green eyes burned with worship as she looked up at his towering black frame.

“You ready for some nigga dick in that jailbait white pussy?” Trayvon asked, his voice low and menacing, his massive cock glistening with her spit, twitching above her.

“Yes, Trayvon, please!” Kennedy shrieked, her voice hoarse but desperate, her white body trembling on the plush cream couch. “Fuck my tight white cunt with that huge black cock!” Her hands clawed at his ebony chest, her fishnet-clad legs spreading wide, her soaked thong barely covering her glistening pussy.

Trayvon shoved her down onto her back, the couch creaking under her curvy frame as he loomed above her, his 6’4” black bulk casting a shadow over her pale, surgically-enhanced body. His enormous, veiny black cock teased her moist cuntlips, brushing against her swollen clit, making her hips buck with need. Kennedy’s micro-skirt rode up, her thong yanked aside, exposing her dripping pussy, her white skin stark against his dark shaft. Richard and Regina’s horrified gasps echoed, but Kennedy didn’t care, her world narrowed to Trayvon’s cruel tease.

“Beg for it, slut,” Trayvon taunted, his dark lips curling as he dragged his cockhead along her slick folds, coating it in her juices. “Tell me how bad you need this nigga dick stretchin’ you out.”

“Please, Trayvon, fuck me!” Kennedy wailed, her pale hips writhing, her fake tits bouncing as she clawed the couch. “I need your massive black cock splitting my white pussy! Ruin me, baby, please!” Her voice cracked with desperation, her green eyes locked on his shaft, her body trembling with anticipation.

Trayvon relented, his dark hands gripping her pale thighs, spreading them wider as he pushed his cock slowly into her tight teenage pussy. Kennedy’s scream tore through the room, her body arching as his thick, veiny shaft stretched her painfully, wonderfully, inch by agonizing inch. Her pussy clamped around him, her juices gushing as she climaxed instantly, her white body shuddering, her fake tits quivering with the force of her orgasm. Trayvon taunted her, his voice a low growl. “Look at this jailbait cunt takin’ my nigga dick,” he sneered, sinking deeper, his dark testicles pressing against her pale ass as he went balls-deep. “You love this pain, don’t you, white bitch?”

“Yes, Trayvon, I fucking love it!” Kennedy moaned, her voice raw, her pale legs wrapping around his black waist, pulling him deeper as her pussy spasmed around his massive cock. Her tears mixed with her mascara, her bruised tits heaving, but her green eyes glowed with ecstasy, lost in the brutal pleasure of his dominance.

Richard’s choked sob broke the air, his knuckles white as he gripped a chair, his tailored suit soaked with sweat, watching his daughter’s white body impaled on Trayvon’s black cock. Regina’s elegant frame crumpled, her blonde updo falling apart, her hands covering her face as silent tears spilled, the gangsta-rap’s vile pulse—”Fuck that bitch till she breaks”—mocking their anguish. But Kennedy was oblivious, her teenage world consumed by Trayvon’s violent, misogynistic allure, her body writhing under his relentless control.

Kennedy’s pale teenage body shuddered beneath Trayvon’s towering black frame as he began fucking her, his massive eleven-inch black cock sawing in and out of her tight white pussy with relentless force. Her ragged gasps and moans filled the Vanderholts’ opulent living room, her curvy frame spasming with every thrust, her massive fake tits—bruised and bouncing—jiggling wildly against her creamy skin. The plush cream couch bounced under the brutal rhythm, its springs creaking as Trayvon’s dark hips drove into her, her hot-pink thong yanked aside, her fishnet thigh-highs fraying against the leather. K-Shank’s “Break That Bitch” thumped through the high-end sound system, its savage lyrics—”Smash that hoe, make her body shake”—mirroring her ecstasy. A series of mini-climaxes rippled through her, her pussy clenching around his veiny shaft, juices dripping onto the couch as she stared up at him, her green eyes glowing with worship.

Her manicured white fingers traced his muscular black body, gliding over his chiseled abs and intricate tattoos—snarling panthers, gang insignias, and dates of crimes etched into his ebony skin. “God, Trayvon, you’re so fucking perfect,” Kennedy moaned, her voice trembling as she admired his ink, her pale nails grazing a scar from a prison shiv. His thrusts shook her to her core, her micro-skirt bunched around her waist, her bruised tits heaving as she worshipped his dangerous, criminal allure.