Three Guesses

Tiana's eyes burned up at me, hating what I was doing to her, **** for me to do worse, as she bobbed up and down on my cock. There's something transcendent about having a girl on her knees, worshipping your cock. Really worshipping. When you feel that gap between you, her debased, you elevated, like some cosmic scales had shifted.

You're something more than human in that moment, something more powerful. It's her power, of course, loaned to you because she needs to feel low just as you need to feel exalted. Sometimes you both pretend that it isn't a loan, that there's something solid and permanent in that space between you, that you might never let her back up from her knees and she might never stop serving. But a loan, it is.

What I was doing to this beautiful Hispanic co-ed was something different altogether. Sure, she'd been looking for what I was providing, to a degree, but she hadn't handed me this power dressed in a bow. My mysterious benefactor, and the strange Raceplay app, had conspired with me to steal her power.

There really was something in the space between Tiana, on her knees, sucking slowly upward along my spit-shining shaft until the head slipped free with a pop, and I, lounging on her couch with my phone recording every moment. The app was there, holding her down, and would for as long as I wanted. Her freedom, her return to grace, was at my mercy.

I should have been more ashamed. I shouldn't have been fighting not to come in her mouth. After one particular close call, I tried to think of ways to distract her--and me.

"If what you have between your legs is a taco," I said, "Then what's this you're gobbling right now? What kind of spic cuisine are you drooling over so much?"

Her nose flared, but she kept sucking while she thought. Finally she pulled off my cock with a gasp. Her face and neck was pink with her shame. "A churro, Papi. It's a dessert. Fried dough. A stiff stick."

"And do you like churros, chica?"

Tiana licked along the length of my cock, kissing my head. "They're delicious, Papi. I might love them too much. They go right to my ass."

I laughed, guiding her back to bob on my cock. "Then I say you love them just the right amount."

I could have sworn she tried to say "thank you" with me tickling her tonsils.

Part of me was dissatisfied. That was too easy for her. Just an extension of what I'd done before. We both enjoyed it more when I was right on the line. When I was actively moving the line.

I smiled as inspiration struck me.

I could just barely reach the Mexican flag without leaving my place on the couch. It was just pinned up at the top, so it fell down over me with a single swift tug, the pins clattering across the floor.

"What are you--"

"We've been over this, you dumb brown bitch," I said, blindly reaching for the head-shaped mound and pushing it down to where I figured my cock waited. I felt myself slide along her face before she took the hint and adjusted her angle, welcoming me back into her sweet mouth once more.

It took some frustrating finagling with one hand, but eventually I billowed the flag down until I was uncovered. It sat over Tiana like a shroud, hiding her. That wouldn't do. With another wave of the fabric, it sat like a hood, draping her top half, but leaving her face uncovered. I looked at what the camera was capturing and saw perfection.

A gorgeous Hispanic girl, draped in her country's flag, sucking my white cock with a look of bewilderment and worry.

"If you're my good little wetback bitch, gag on my cock."

Some of the worry faded, and she gave a moan, right before pushing her head down deeper along my length. About two thirds down, my cockhead reached the back of her mouth.

That had been easy. I hadn't even felt the strain of the magic doing its work.

Unlike during dinner, when she wanted to impress me by fucking her own face on my cock, Tiana now hovered right at the brink of deepthroating, sputtering but not relenting. Drool dripped from her lips, leaking down my dick and spattering her chin. It even made one long string down to the floor.

I waited until her face was a mess of tears and drool and snot. Then I pulled her off. She gasped like a woman drowning, but only stared up, open mouthed.

"Wipe your face, puta. You look pathetic." Shamefaced, she started to swipe her hand over her face, but I tsked, and she stopped. "I went through all that trouble to get you a napkin when I saw you making a mess of your meal. Wipe it on the flag."

"Fuck." For a long while she didn't even seem to be trying to decide whether to obey me, but instead just trying to process what I wanted her to do. Even after, as I felt the strain of the magic, the look on her face wasn't defiant or angry, it was shocked and tentative. It wasn't that she didn't want to obey me; she didn't know if she could.

But I believed in her.

"What does that flag mean to you, chica?"

"It's...everything, Papi. All my parents had left from their home. It was their only comfort when they were all alone here. It's our culture. It's who I am."

I took her chin in my fingers, making her look up at me. Slowly, so she could tell I meant it, I said, "I want you to smear your spit and snot all over your precious culture. Can you do that for me, my spic princess?"

She gave a full-body shiver. "Si, Papi."

I watched as she deliberately wiped the red and white and green cloth over her face. Her face came away clean and dry, her expression blank and dull. The cloth was damp and dirtied.

"Good girl," I said. Sometimes you have to give them what they earn.

Tiana looked up at me, revolted and yet hungry, like she wanted to hop on my cock right then as she yelled how fucked up and wrong what I'd had her do was.

"Now, wrap your Mexicunt flag around my cock and jerk me with it."

I almost expected another struggle, but Tiana gave a visible gulp and then obeyed.

The flag was rough on my cock, almost uncomfortable. But seeing her hands stroke the bulge in the fabric sent a hot rush of something every bit as good as actual pleasure through me. Power is an aphrodisiac. Addictive, too. I'd always want more.

"Your ugly ass flag is scraping my cock raw. Make sure there's some lubrication." When she seemed unsure, I gently pulled her head down, letting her choose whether to be guided. There was no fight left in her.

I groaned as her mouth strained to take in both me and the fabric. She had to bunch it tighter around my base, making my shape even more pronounced. Of course, she couldn't suck very well between the bulk and the friction, but warm wetness seeped through the cloth, staining it darker. It didn't feel particularly good, and yet it felt amazing. And, in the phone's camera, it looked indescribable.

Pulling her head back, I said, "Look at your culture now."

There are certain expressions you can only get when you push a woman to her limits. Bitter tears slipped down her cheeks, pain and shame twisting deep inside her. And yet when her eyes rose from my spit-soaked cock, wrapped in Mexican flag, to meet my own gaze, I could see a yawning void inside her, a desire all-consuming and all-defining. I was breaking her, and her want was forging her back together.

"Prove to me how much you want to be claimed by this thick white cock, puta."