Into the Bar

You walk into the bar. It's a hot day, and you want something cold to drink, and something pretty to fuck. Some people cheerfully greet you as you walk in. You're pretty famous throughout the town; no one else catches quite as many runaways as you have.

"A beer please dear," you ask the young barmaid, not hiding your blatant stare at her cleavage. Her corset and low cut blouse accentuated her breasts nicely. She blushes and runs off to get your order, her tightly bound breasts jumping up and down.

While you wait, you decide to visit the best part of the bar, upstairs. You head up three flights of stairs. It was a tall building, and it was made that way for a reasons. As you approached the top floor, you began to hear the common screams and grunts of women being fucked. The bar was run by a reputable and rich owner. He was smart enough to make the investment into black women that guests would pay to fuck. It paid off well, and the n*gger women paid for themselves in a very short amount of time. Now the owner was rolling around in cash, and barely worked. He struck the gold mine.

Luckily for you, you were well known to him. Every time some of his sex slaves escaped, he'd call you down to round them up again. It was a win-win situation for all involved. You got paid, he got his slaves back, and your men got the morale boost after **** each of those n*ggers.

You walk through the hall and into a room. No one asks you for any payment, they know who you are.

Inside you see a naked **** lying on the bed, handcuffed.

"Please massa, no!" she screamed, but she knew it was futile.

You stripped off your clothes, letting your hard cock loose. The n*gger woman seemed frightened at the sight of it. You approach her on the bed, wondering what to do with her ****, naked body.