“I’m going to rape you, Rebecca,” Malcolm said as he played whit her tight little pussy, “My nigger cock is going to rip your little pussy apart.”
She sobbed and mumbled something into her gag. It sounded vaguely like “Mmm-mmm-mmm.” She was begging him and it made him laugh.
He took a step back and picked up the crop. Perfect little Rebecca Finnegan screamed into her piss covered gag as he brought the crop down hard against her perfect little ass. He did it again and the teen rewarded him with another scream. He did it again, and took a knee as he swung so he could land the crop against the back of her thighs.
Perfect little Rebecca Finnegan screamed with each blow from the crop. Her petite, naked body swung back and forth from the chain. The cuffs cut off the circulation to her hands. Her little toes struggled to touch the ground as she swung helplessly with each hard blow.
Perfect little Rebecca Finnegan. Can you feel that Rebecca? It hurts doesn’t it? That’s what you did to Malcolm’s ancestors. That’s what it feels like to be whipped like a slave, Rebecca. This is what it feels like to be property Rebecca. Is Malcolm still your favorite teacher? Somewhere down the line your people owned his people. Somewhere down the line they kidnapped someone just like Malcolm and millions of others and they turned them into slaves. Now the same thing is happening to you Rebecca Finnegan. How do you like it? It hurts doesn’t it?
“It hurts doesn’t it!”
Malcolm’s beautiful Black body was covered with sweat. Rebecca screamed as the crop swished against her breasts again. She was spinning around helplessly on the chain, rotating in little circles as Malcolm beat her with the switch, completely unconcerned about where he hit her.
She howled as the crop cut across her sensitive pink nipples. “This is what you did to my people you fucking white devil bitch!” The crop crashed across her stomach. Malcolm didn’t even know he was yelling.
He stopped abruptly, exhausted and sweaty despite the cold basement chill. Rebecca stopped screaming a few seconds later. Her cum covered face was scrunched with pain. Her perfect little white body was covered in a series of red welts.
Malcolm was, honestly, shocked when he saw her. He had let his rage get the better of him. He had completely lost control of himself and now her tight little porcelain white skin was marked head-to-toe in harsh pink welts.
He hadn’t meant to beat her nearly that hard or that long. He had lost control. He was having too much fun working out a lifetime of pent up rage and hatred. He’d have to watch himself. He didn’t want to hurt her, not permanently and if he didn’t watch himself he’d do some serious damage.
He dropped the crop on the floor and walked over to the wall. He let the chain down, he just let it unwind and he watched as perfect little Rebecca Finnegan fell to her knees and then collapsed to the cold concrete floor, too exhausted to even attempt to break her fall, let alone stand up.
Perfect little Rebecca Finnegan wept on the concrete floor, wearing nothing but a pair of white cotton socks. Her perfect little naked body was covered head-to-toe in painful pink welts. She didn’t even try to take out her gag, she just curled on the cold hard floor and wept. Her naked little body shook with the force of her sobs.
It was the most pathetic thing that Malcolm had ever seen. Perfect little Rebecca Finnegan had a perfect 4.0. She was saving that perfect little body for marriage. She was active in the Catholic Church, a part of the swim team and too stubborn to fail at anything. Yesterday she could do anything and now perfect little Rebecca Finnegan was a mess on the basement floor.
It was the most pathetic thing Malcolm had ever seen. It was also the most arousing.
He gave the chain a yank, just enough to pull her arms in the air. He freed her handcuffs from the chain, and noticed the deep bruises around her wrists. He debated freeing her wrists and taking the handcuffs off, but thought better of it. He knew enough not too trust her, perfect little Rebecca Finnegan was too smart for her own good.
Instead he scooped her into his arms. It wasn’t hard. Her petite little five-foot body hardly weighed more than a hundred pounds and Malcolm had almost two feet on her and still, even in retirement, had a fair amount of muscle.
He heaved her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She let out an “umph” as her stomach pounded onto his strong Black shoulder, but was too exhausted to object. He wrapped his right arm around her legs and was delighted at the deep anguished moan the teen made as he ran his left hand over her perfect little pussy lips. She sobbed and withered and moaned in grief as he teased her little pussy.
Malcolm opened the door to her cell and dropped her onto the cheap little cot in the center of the room. He had bolted the cot to the ground and left it with only a cheap and filthy army surplus mattress. Aside from the toilet and the shower, it was the only thing in the small prison cell. Welcome to your new home Rebecca Finnegan.
He climbed on top of the teen and sat his big, Black ass on her tight little stomach. She gave a pathetic and futile little struggle as he played with her firm, round tits. She screamed, yet again, when he pinched and twisted her puffy pink nipples.
He was going to have fun. He pulled the keys off the chain around his neck and freed her wrists from the handcuff. She didn’t waist a second. The moment her hands were free she did her best to pummel Malcolm with her two little fists. Rebecca Finnegan did not disappoint.
No! She would not be raped today! The grief and exhaustion faded from her eyes and was replaced by a familiar stubborn rage. Fucking Irish. Perfect little Rebecca Finnegan did not disappoint. Her cries turned into a scream of rage and she pounded her little fists into Malcolm. Her little naked body bucked beneath his in an effort to throw him off of her, to send him to the floor.
Malcolm couldn’t but laugh as her clenched fists landed blow after blow on his Black flesh. He couldn’t laugh at the look of unadulterated hatred on her perfect cum covered face or at her little battle screams of rage. Perfect little Rebecca Finnegan could beat on him all day and not even make a dent.
With normal people, with sane people, Malcolm’s laughter would have been soul crushing. Normal people would have given up with the resolute knowledge that their struggles were futile. Normal people would have heard his laughing and realized they would never win.
Not perfect little Rebecca Finnegan. She heard him laughing at her and it only served to fuel her anger. Fucking Irish. At least she was fighting. At least she had that same stubborn resolve that made her perfect little Rebecca Finnegan, Malcolm would have been truly disappointed if she cracked because of a little molestation and a dew whips from the crop.
He rolled his eyes and caught her left hand as she tried to hit him again. She screamed into her gag as squirmed beneath him. She did everything in her power to break free from his grasp.