SIDE CHAPTER: SARAH'S THROAT TRAINING!

The click that sounded of as Sarah closed her bedroom door was loud, compared to the sudden silence that followed. Trent didn't say a word. He just stood there, in the middle of her ridiculously large room which she lived in since she was young. His presence was sucking up all the air.

Sarah walked over to stand by her king-sized bed, feeling that familiar mix of nerves and a deep, aching need in her pussy she always felt when Trent looked at her like this. She knew this look by now, after several months of them being in... whatever this arrangement was that they were in. It was the look of a predator who had already caught his prey and was just deciding how to devour it.

Her room was a clear testament to her family's wealth. It was huge, with floor-to-ceiling windows that showed off the perfectly designed grounds of her family’s mansion their big pool area, that she was going to have the BSA party at. The walls were painted in a soft mix of white and pink and right above her headboard, was a poster of a large, black power fist. On the opposite wall, was a sizable black spade which added contrast to the composition of the room.

Her vanity was covered in expensive makeup, but next to the perfume bottles was a small velvet-lined box. Inside, was a large collection of various types and sizes of cock cages. Some were flat cages made out of steel, designed for complete denial. Others, made of translucent pink plastic, offered a bit more room but were no less restrictive. Trent had ordered Sarah to buy a wide variety at the start of their arrangement, that way, he would always have the perfect way to lock Justin’s uselessness away, to show him that he isn't a real man.

A large, white desk held her laptop and neat stacks of notebooks. A dresser for her clothes stood against another wall, its top drawers housing her collection of delicate, expensive lingerie. The rest of her wardrobe was tucked away in a large walk-in closet.

Beside her bed stood a small bedside table which held its own secrets. Tucked in the drawer were a box of condoms, medium sized, which Justin had insisted on buying when they wanted to have sex for the first time. It was a pathetic attempt to claim that he was bigger then he really is. The two of them quickly learned that the condoms inside where comically oversized for his small white dick. Since then they were barely used, relics from a life before Trent, their presence now nothing more then a silent mockery to Justin's inadequacy. They also were far too small for Trent's BBC. One time Sarah asked Trent to put one on, just to really show Justin the difference between their two appendages. It looked wrong on Trent's cock, way to tight and it was so small, that didn't even reach the thick base of his meat.

Trent had made his stance on condoms clear at the start of their arrangement: he would never wear one. They were way to restrictive, and are just dulling the sensation and warmth of the skin to skin contact. He demanded, if Sarah wanted to get fucked by him, she would have to agree to only take him bareback. It was a rule she agreed to with a speed that had baffled, but also wounded Justin. Since before him and her started to get sexual, Sarah always told him that she only wants to have sex with him if he wears a condom. She assured him that this rule would apply to every man, and not just to him. Justin was too humiliated to confront her with that blatant lie. Maybe he was also fearing the truth of why she upheld that rule for him, but instantly broke it for Trent...

Also in the drawer were a few larger black dildos, they were her solace when Trent wasn't there to use her. Sometimes, during the moments she spent alone with Justin, she would make him ride one, or fuck her with it, telling him in her sweet, cruel voice that this was the only way he would ever be inside her again. She'd make him compare his caged, shrunken white dick to the thick, rubber shafts from time to time, just a lesson in inadequacy he was slowly learning. The first real dildo she ever owned was a replica of a famous black porn star, a toy she had ridden to countless orgasms while watching the man dominate white women and men on her laptop. A new desire of hers now, was to have a perfect replica of Trent's cock molded, so she could feel him filling her even when he was miles away or didn't feel like fucking her.

There was also a bottle of lube that was still half-full, its primary use was for anal play, usually on Justin, be it the dildos or Trent's cock. Sarah herself usually preferred the raw, naturally slick feel of Trent's big cock in her pussy. But if he wanted her ass, it wasn't her place to deny him.

The room was thick with anticipation as Sarah’s eyes devoured Trent. He still wore his dark, designer jeans that she bought for him, but his upper body was completely bare, and it was a masterpiece of masculine power she couldn't stop looking at. His skin was the color of rich, dark chocolate, smooth and stretched taut over a swimmer's build that was all lean, defined muscle. His chest was broad, with two perfectly formed pecs, a deep-cut V-line disappearing tantalizingly into the waistband of his jeans. His shoulders were broad and strong, the muscles flexing slightly as he moved, and his long, tight braids fell against his neck, framing a face that was almost painfully handsome. His jaw was sharp, his lips full, and his dark eyes held a smoldering, confident fire that made her pussy clench. She felt a fresh wave of wetness soaking her panties. She couldn't believe how lucky she was that a man like this had decided to pursue her, to claim her.

"On your knees," Trent said. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the charged silence of the room, sharp and absolute. It wasn't a request, it was a command.

Sarah’s breath hitched in her throat. The command hit her like a physical blow, and she sank to her knees on the thick, white fur rug, her movements so fluid, that they could almost seem practiced. Her eyes dropped immediately to the floor, a show of submission she knew the man appreciated. She heard the rustle of denim as he shifted his weight, followed by the sharp, metallic clink of his belt buckle being undone. The sound sent a jolt straight through her, and down toward lower body.

There on her knees, she was a vision of beautiful innocence. Her long, blonde hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, framing a face with delicate features and wide, blue eyes that were currently fixed on the floor. She wore a matching set of black lace lingerie, a push-up bra that accentuated her already impressive chest and a tiny thong that did little to hide the curve of her hips. Her body was soft and curvy, with a narrow waist that flared out into wide, rounded hips and an ass that was made to be played with. She was the picture of a wealthy, pampered white girl, now kneeling and waiting to be used by big, strong black man.

"Look at me," he commanded voice low and dominant.

She instantly looked up. Finally seeing the man in front of her in his full glory, Trent had his cock out, and the sight of it still, after seeing it so many times by now, made her mouth water and her body vibrate with need. It was a fucking monster, a thick, veiny pillar of dark flesh that stood up from his already powerful frame. It was just so... manly, and powerful. His balls were equally impressive, large and round, probably filled with enough sperm to impregnate a while village of wemen. Her own body responded instantly, a flush of heat spreading through her.

"Made your little boyfriend take Jamal and that new kid with the nice, round bubble butt to the mall," Trent said, his voice a low rumble. "Told him to pay for everything they want. He’s probably pulling out his wallet right in this moment, thinking he’s being a good little provider. Probably not even imagining the ways in which im going to use his girlfriend." He smirked. "That’s the difference between him and me. He sends you gifts. I send you to your knees."

He takes a step toward her looking down at her display of submission. "Come on, touch it" Trent said, gesturing to his massive erection. Sarah looks at it again, before slowly reaching out with a trembling hand, her small fingers wrapping around the base of his thick, dark shaft and the heat that came from it was incredible. Her small, pale hand looked tiny wrapped around his sheer girth, her fingers not even able to touch around it.

"Mmm," she moaned while she was slowly leaning in. Her tongue hesitantly darted out, before licking a salty drop of pre-cum from the already glistening tip. The manly taste of it made her shiver. She quickly took another lick, before dragged her tongue along the thick vein on the underside of his dick, just the way she knew he liked it.

He growled, a low sound of approval. "That’s it, bitch. Show me how much you missed this fucking cock."

His large hand tangled in her blonde hair, grip tightening. He intentionally started to move his hips forward, fucking her mouth with slow, deep strokes.

"I have to admit, Justin’s a good boy," he grunted, his voice thick with lust and desire. "But he's way too soft. His body is soft, his dick is even softer. He can’t give you what you need. What a real man can give you. I know that he couldn't even properly fuck you with that little white prick of his, way before it was locked away in its tiny cage.”

Sarah moaned around his thick shaft, the vibrations making his cock twitch. She couldn't deny that he was right. Justin is gentle and loving and thats great and all, but he sadly just wasn’t this... He wasn’t this overwhelming force of a man that just took what he wanted, Justin is just so unsure of himself and so god dammn tiny and soft...

"Only I can fuck you like this," Trent continued, his words like a drug to Sarahs sex driven mind. "Only I'm able to remind you of your place. On your fucking knees, worshipping my superior cock. This is exactly what that pretty little pink mouth of yours was made for."

The thick head of his cock hit the back of her throat, and she gagged, her eyes instantly watering. Her hands flew up to his powerful thighs, holding on for dear life. She tried to force herself to relax, to let him in deeper, it was almost impossible with his size, but eventually the thick shaft slid over her tongue, filling her tight canal completely. Her own forgotten pussy was clenching around nothing, dripping wet, soaking her panties.

"That’s it, baby," he growled, his rhythm getting faster. "Take it all. Worship this black cock like the good little white slut you are."

He thrusted into her for a while, before suddenly stopping his movement "Let me show you something." He said, pulling her off him, leaving her desperately gasping for air. A long string of saliva connected her swollen lips to his glistening, wet cock. He hauled her to her feet by her long blond hair, spinning her around to face the full-length mirror on her closet door. He held her body tightly and stood behind her, like a giant wall of dark muscle, his hard cock pressing against her lower back.

"Look at you," he commanded, his voice a harsh whisper in her ear. "Look at this perfect little white body. This spoiled rich girl body. Made for one thing and one thing only" His hands roamed over her skin, squeezing her ass and her breasts, then pulling her flush against him. "Made to be fucked by a real man. Made to be stretched, filled and owned by a superior black man." He thrust his hips against her back, smearing some spit and pre-cum over her skin.

Sarah’s eyes were locked on their reflection in front of her. The contrast was insane. Her petite, pale form was completely engulfed by his larger, powerful body. She saw the flush on her cheeks, the desperate need in her eyes. She saw the absolute confidence in his. He was right... she was made for this.

"Tell me," he ordered, his hand sliding down her flat stomach to cup her soaking wet pussy through her panties. "Tell me who you belong to."

"You," she gasped, her voice breaking as his large fingers pressed against her clit. "I belong to you, Trent."

"And what are you?" he pressed, rubbing her in slow, maddening circles.

"I’m... I’m your snow bunny," she moaned, pushing her hips back against his hand. "Your white slut."

"Damn right you are," he grunted letting go of her and giving her a light push towards the bed. "But we’re not here to fuck that pussy, at least for now. We’re here to work on this beautiful pouty mouth of yours." He pointed at his cock, then at her. "That throat of yours still has a mind of its own. We need to fix that."

Sarah’s heart pounded, a thrill of fear and excitement shot through her. She had been practicing alone or with Justin the last few weeks, but this was different. This was him taking control.

"Get on the floor again," he commanded. "Ass on your heels, hands behind your back."

She quickly complied, sinking back onto the plush rug. She laced her fingers behind her back, which pushed her chest out and made her feel even more exposed. He stood over her, his magnificent cock hanging right in her face.

"I know you’ve been practicing," he said, a smirk on his face. "Trying to be a good girl for me. But a dildo can’t teach you shit. It can’t teach you how to breathe, how to properly surrender." He stepped closer, tapping the thick, wet head of his cock against her cheeks smearing his precum all over her skin and then her lips. "Justin’s been practicing too. But he’s still a little whiny bitch. Gags on it every time. You’re gonna be better than him, right? I know you’re gonna be the best."

"Open," he commanded.

Sarah obidiently parted her lips, and he slowly slid the head of his cock into her mouth. It was still warm and thick, tasting of her own spit and his skin. She started to swirl her tongue around it, eager to please, but he tightened his grip on her hair, stopping her cold.

"No," he said firmly. "Did I say you could move that tongue? Your job right now isn’t to please. Your job is to be a hole. A warm, wet hole for my big, black cock. You just sit there and take it."

She froze, her tongue still and he quickly began to push, it was slow but with a steady, unyielding pressure. The thick head of his cock soon pressed against the back of her tongue, and her body screamed at her to gag. She fought it, swallowing hard as he pushed into the tight entrance of her throat.

"That’s it," he groaned, feeling the muscles of her esophagus spasm around him. "Take it. Fucking take it, bitch. Don't fight me."

He pushed deeper, and the urge to gag was overwhelming. Tears started to well upin her eyes again, blurring her vision. Her body trembled with the effort of staying still, of not pulling away. He held himself there, buried in her throat, cutting off her air. The lack of oxygen sent a dizzying rush to her head, a terrifying, thrilling buzz.

"Fucking look at me," he commanded.

She slightly tilted her head back as best she could, her tear-filled eyes locking with his. His face was a mask of pure lust and power.

"This is it," he growled, his voice thick with pleasure. "This is your fucking purpose. Right here, on your knees in this fancy-ass room, choking on a big black dick. Not shopping with some inferior white boy. This is where you belong. This is where you’re most beautiful and useful."

He pulled back, just enough to let her get one single, desperate gasp of air before pushing back in, this time going even deeper. He was using her mouth, her throat, like it was a toy.

The training was brutal. He would pull out for a split second for her to breathe, then plunge right back in, each time forcing her throat to stretch even more, to accommodate his impossible size.

"Justin tries," Trent grunted, finding a steady, face-fucking rhythm. "But he fights it every time. You... I know you’re learning to love it. You’re learning that your pleasure doesn’t mean shit. What matters is serving this BBC, taking it however I want to give it to you."

He could feel her throat relaxing after a bit of time, the muscles were yielding to his relentless dominance. He was hitting new depths with every thrust, his heavy, large, cum-filled balls slapping against her chin with a wet, rhythmic thwack. The sounds were obscene, the wet, choking, gurgling sounds of her throat being fucked, his low grunts of pleasure, her desperate whimpers for air that were barely audible past the thick cock plugging her up.

"Look at this room," he grunted, his rhythm never faltering. "All this money, this fancy rug, this big-ass bed. And what’s the most valuable thing in it? You. On your fucking knees, with my dick so far down your throat that you can't breath. That’s real value, snow bunny. Not this bullshit your parents bought you."

He pulled out again, leaving her coughing and gasping, a thick rope of saliva dangling from her chin. Strings of it connected her swollen, glistening lips to his cock. Her face was a mess, tears and mascara running down her cheeks, her eyes red and bloodshot.

"Pathetic," he said, but there was a smirk in his voice. "You look fucking beautiful like this. All ruined for me." He used his cock to smear the saliva and tears all over her face. "This is what a real man’s cock does to a pretty white girl like you. It makes her a mess, makes her property and it makes her mine."

He let her catch her breath for a few seconds, her chest heaving. Then, he grabbed her hair again. "We’re not done yet, slut. Not even close. You took it deep, but you didn’t hold it. A good little throat slut holds it until her man is done with her. We’re going to practice that now.”

He sat down at her desk chair and positioned her right between his thick muscular legs. "Open up. This time even wider."

She complied, her jaw aching from the motion. This time, he didn’t ease into it, he just thrust forward, hard and fast, burying his cock to the hilt in one smooth yet brutal motion. Her nose smashed against his hard, lower abdomen. Her entire world shrank to the feeling of being completely, utterly full and used. He held her there, his hand a vise on the back of her head, pinning her in place.

"Hold it," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Don’t you dare pull back. Look at me."

She struggled to focus, her vision swimming, by now it felt like an eternity since she last had a breath of air. The burning in her lungs was intense, a desperate fire screaming for oxygen. Her body was convulsing, her throat spasming around the thick invader. It was an automatic reaction, a fight for survival, but she fought it with every fiber of her being, forcing herself to stay still, to be the hole he wanted her to be.

"Yeah, that’s it," he groaned, looking down at her. "Fight it. Fight that annoying fucking gag reflex. You’re gonna break it today. You’re gonna break it for me, bitch.” He kept her there for what felt like forever. Then he quickly grabbed his phone from the table.

“Don’t move,” he commanded. “Stay just like that.”

He aimed the camera down at her. The flash went off, capturing the moment perfectly.

“Perfect,” he muttered, typing rapidly. He held the phone out, showing her the screen. He had sent the pictures to Jamal.

The picture Trent sent was of Sarah's head being smashed against his dark skinned pelvis, completely engulfing his thick, long, black cock, not even showing a sliver of skin. It looked like Sarah was concentrating hard on not choking or gagging on it, which would be normal for sucking a black man's cock. One of Trent's large hands was on the back of her head securely holding her in place. The skin around her eyes was red, seemed like this is a pretty long training session.

"Let’s see what they think of you" Trent said, his voice filled with satisfaction. He placed the phone back onto the table and looked down at her.

The pressure in Sarahs head was immense, black spots dancing in her vision and just when she thought she would pass out, he pulled back.

She collapsed forward, sucking in huge, ragged gasps of air, her body trembling uncontrollably. Coughs wracked her frame, her throat feeling raw and abused.

"Get up," Trent ordered. "On the bed. On your back, your head hanging off the edge."

Weakly, she scrambled to obey. She crawled onto the plush pink comforter and laid back, letting her head fall over the side, her blonde hair cascading towards the floor. In this position, her throat was a straight, open line. She was completely vulnerable like this.

Trent stood over her, proudly looking down. He straddled her face, his powerful thighs on either side of her head. From this angle, his cock and balls looked even bigger and more imposing if that was possible.

"This is the perfect angle for a good training," he said, his voice thick with lust. "No excuses, just straight down." He lowered his balls to her mouth. “but let's show them some love first.”

Sarah eagerly stuck out her tongue, lapping at the heavy, dark sac. She licked and sucked on his balls, taking each one into her mouth, rolling them with her tongue while he stroked his hard shaft above her face.

"Thats a good girl," he grunted. "Now, open wide for the main course."

She opened her mouth, and he positioned his cock at the entrance. He didn't thrust with his hips this time. He just... leaned forward and let gravity do the work. His thick, long cock slid straight down her throat, effortlessly, until his balls were resting on her face. It was deeper than ever before. There was no angle to fight, no way to resist, he was just inside her, all the way.

"Fuck yeah," he groaned, savoring the feeling. "Look at that. Buried to the fucking hilt. You see? Your throat knows what it wants. It knows its fucking place."

He held himself there for a moment, then began to slowly rock his hips, fucking her throat in long, deep strokes. In this position, she couldn't do anything but lie there and take it. The sounds her body made were wetter and messier, sometimes she was still gagging around it. He was using her throat like a pussy, and the thought made her own pussy clench with an desperate, empty ache.

"You’re getting so much better," he praised, his voice a low pant. "You are already so much better than Justin. He still can’t take it like this. He chokes, he sputters, he cries like the little bitch he is. You... you’re taking it like a champ. You’re wanna be my number one throat slut, don't you?"

She tried to moan her agreement, but it just came out as a choked gurgle around his thick shaft.

He eventually picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster, more forceful. The bed was creaking, the sound mixing with the wet, sloppy sounds of her throat being used. He was close, she could tell by the way his balls were tightening against her face.

"Gonna cum, slut," he grunted. "And you’re gonna swallow every last drop. You’re gonna drink my seed like it’s the finest thing you have ever tasted."

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and roared. His cock throbbed violently inside of her, and she felt pulse after pulse of hot, thick cum shooting directly down her throat. There was no need to swallow, it was just being pumped straight into her stomach. He held himself there for a while, until he was spent, then slowly pulled out.

As his cock left her throat, a wave of his cum followed it, flooding her mouth. She coughed, and some of it dribbled down her cheeks.

He looked down at her, at her utterly ruined face, and a wide, predatory grin spread across his face. He grabbed his phone again.

Aimed the camera down before another flash went off, capturing a new moment of her submission perfectly: her head hanging off the bed, her face a mess of tears, spit, and cum, her eyes glassy and dazed. He took another picture, this time getting his still-hard, glistening cock in the frame, resting on her cheek.

"Incredible," he muttered, "maybe I should send them this one too... But I think I will keep it for myself, at least for now."

"Now get up. Your throat training for today is done. But I’m not finished with you just yet."