This one is special enough to get a disclaimer given the subject matter of the story. Blacked by the Refugee is raceplay impregnation between a German blonde and a Middle Easterner. Technically not 'blacked', but it fits in with the themes of that series, but more importantly it plays off of the migrant crisis and is definitely hardcore on the raceplay side of things. If that kind of subject isn't your cup of tea, don't bother with this one. Otherwise enjoy and consider supporting my Patreon for early access to works like these and more!
It
wasn’t that I expected anything exceptional to happen that Friday. Germany was
a safe place, and it wasn’t like bad things usually happened. Until that night,
with the refugee.
I
left work a bit after 5. It has been an absolutely exhausting week, and I
looked forward to the weekend. Catching the bus as I always did, of course I
saw a few men on the bus. Refugees, I mean. One man caught my eye in
particular. He had to be in his early twenties, his skin a dark caramel color
that was barely lighter than his short, rough beard.
Yet
despite being my age, his eyes were different. The memory of a nature
documentary I saw years ago came back about a starving wolf pack. This man’s
eyes were like that – dark as soil and alert for prey. It was an entrancing
look – a dangerous look. And he caught me staring at him.
I
looked away. A flash of terror raced through my heart! It must have been
instinct. Like a rabbit I scurried back further into the bus, my heart thumping
hard in my chest. Just one look and I knew the danger! And still, as the bus
took off my mind drifted towards naughty things. I crossed and uncrossed my
legs, imaging what that man would do to me if he got his hands on me.
My
skirt was short enough, and my bag hid how my hands crept up underneath it. The
man seemed to be looking out the window, and I snuck glances at his face while
letting my fingers play across my slit. Was his name Mohammad? Was he thinking
about fucking a German blonde like me? Is he like the brutal men I saw online?
Every
thought fueled my nasty fantasies. In my mind I saw him charging into the back
of the bus and dragging me out into the aisle by my ankles. I’d scream and
struggle, but his rough hands would already be under my panties. No one would
do a thing to help me. They’d stare in horror as he ripped down my skirt and
shoved his hard Arabian dick inside me, raw, unprotected, and fuck me like an
animal – no! Like an infidel!
I
must have let my little moan escape too loudly, because when I opened my eyes
again he was staring at me. My blood ran cold. His predator eyes had narrowed,
his brow furrowed with a mix of anger and intrigue. That snapped me out of my
reverie. I clutched my bag and yanked on the stop line. Scrambling for the door
even before the bus came to a stop, I tried not to look back as I stepped off
onto the snowy curb. But I did.
He
was watching me through the window. Judging. Calculating.
The
bus hissed, the doors closed, and it rolled away down the road. I breathed for
the first time in what felt like minutes. What a rush! After the shock of it
all my blood was still pumping hard, and lots of it was surging between my
legs. My pussy felt like it was on fire, and I needed to quench it.
At
the time I didn’t even mind that I had pulled the cord early and missed by stop
by a few blocks. A new fantasy had been born today and almost fulfilled, and I
hurried home as fast I could along the road, a relieved and eager smile
crossing my face.
My
coat hit the floor even before the door closed behind me. All the way to the
bathroom I left a trail of clothing – I didn’t even bother to close the windows
as I stripped off my blouse and bra. It didn’t even occur to me that anyone
would be watching me bare my ample tits or rounded ass through my apartment
window. But there was someone watching. Someone dangerous.
Maybe
if I wasn’t in such a hurry to get back home I would have noticed the bus
stopping just a block ahead of where I had. Maybe if I had ever bothered to
look behind me on the way back I would have noticed a man following behind.
Maybe if I hadn’t been such a horny slut and closed my curtains that night Amar
wouldn’t have found me naked and alone in my apartment…
Steam
billowed from the showerhead, and I hissed at the hot water seared my cold
skin. Still it wasn’t as hot as the furnace between my legs. The water hadn’t
even reached my thighs before my hands were between them, rubbing along my clit
in frantic need.
“F-fuck!”
I moaned, my knees buckling as I came. Hot quim trickled over my fingers along
with the warm water. My gasping voice echoed against the tile, and my mind
turned back to the fantasy I had on the bus.
“Rape
me,” I whispered, imaging him on top of me again, ripping at my blouse, tearing
my bra open. His big brown hands squeezed my tits and made me squeal. My thighs
rubbed together in the shower as I imagined trying to resist him – a token
fight that just made him more intent to rape me.
The
aftershocks hadn’t even passed yet and I needed to cum again. And I did,
moaning aloud my naughty desire.
“Do
it - Fucking rape meeee!”
My
squeals must have drowned out the sound of the front door opening, because I
never heard anything but the sound of the running water and the blood rushing
through my head. I panted hard and frigged myself more. My fingers weren’t long
enough to reach as far as my fantasy assailant could. My mind’s eye watched his
deep tan dick part my pink petals and drive in like he owned it.
“Rape
me with your Muslim cock,” I begged aloud, my voice carrying far beyond the
walls of the bathroom. “Ohhh, shove it deep! Ruin me. Ruin my German pussy!”
I
needed more. I grabbed the removable showerhead and drew it down myself. The
warm spray massaged my heaving breasts first, leaving my hardened nipples
beaded with crystal-clear water. It passed over my flat stomach for only a
moment as I imagined his rough hand traveling down just the same. When it hit my
pussy I hunched forward, bracing my forehead against the tile as my needy clit
was pummeled senseless.
“You
dirty fucking barbarian,” I actually started to shake as I dirty-talked the
apparition in my mind whose cock now lurched and spurted hot ropes into me. “Make
me into your Christian fuckpig. Fill me up with your Muslim sperm – put your
dark babies into me! Oh fuck!”
I
shrieked and came again, this time almost doubling over as ecstasy wracked
through me. From head to toe I quaked, having to drop the showerhead just to
brace myself against the walls. Steam wafted up about my face as my golden
locks clung to my cheeks, my pussy still quivering from the intensity of my
orgasm.
“Oh
god… what is wrong with me?” I laughed, picking up the showerhead again to wash
the fresh quim trickling down my legs. The nasty images of that Muslim man
defiling me on the bus faded away, leaving me feel a little sheepish for having
screamed something so nasty. But my womb smoldered with approval.
“I’m
getting so twisted,” I said, turning off the water and stepping out. My soft
white towel dried my hair and then found itself wrapped around my torso like a
fuzzy cocktail dress. Sighing and combing out my hair a bit with my brush, I
smirked at my reflection in the mirror before turning the doorknob, not
realizing my naughty outbursts already had an audience.
I
gasped and froze. The man from the bus was standing in my living room, his
hands rooting through my purse. All thought ceased in my skull, and pure panic
filled the void. He stopped and then glanced my way. Then, pointing to himself
he said what had to have been his name.
“Amar,”
He said before straightening up fully. He was taller than me, his dark eyes
almost as black as his short beard. Fit and sinewy from what had to have been a
lifetime of struggle and hardship, his broad shoulders and thin from gave him
the imposing outline of a desperate, hungry man. He scowled and pointed at my
lack of dress.
Not
a word I could understand came out of his lips. The man was clearly not German
or ever had any intention of learning my language. He didn’t have to. Swift,
foreign words poured from his lips, his finger pointing up and down me in a
fury. It was clearly an accusation, his anger mixed with the clear arousal
forming in his pants.
Never
had I been more frightened in all my life. My knuckles matched the paleness of
my towel from gripping the edges so tight. He stood between me and the door,
leaning against the countertop like he was a guest in my apartment. He paused a
moment in his admonition and stared me right in the eyes.
“Sharmuta!”
Amar barked. I jumped, terrified of his glowering face. I remembered what it
meant from the news reports. The Islamists would say it all the time to German
girls they found, especially the ones they fondled and took advantage of. Sharmuta meant slut, and men like him
thought every blonde like me was one.
“Sharmuta!”
He yelled again, jabbing his finger towards my towel and continuing in his
barbaric language. He pointed again and again between the towel and the floor,
the towel and the floor. Then it clicked. He wanted me to drop it. He wanted
the blonde whore to drop it so he could see everything.
I
don’t know why, but I began to stare at his cock. The big, thick outline of it
was growing, sliding down a leg of his dirty pants like a poisonous snake. Just
like the beginning of one of my fantasies. My vision became hazy, and I nearly
fainted – from fear or arousal I couldn’t know. But I knew what I had to do,
what my body and soul demanded I do.
I
swallowed and dragged my eyes back up to meet his. Every instinct told me to
run away from this lean, terrible predator of a man. Every one, except for one.
The one that had been stirring inside me ever since I saw the first Muslim
enter my country. And that one instinct made me straighten up as tall as I
could, grab the edges of my towel, and in the slowest manner pulled it wide
open for my Islamic invader.
A
feral grin spread across his face as I dropped the towel completely, exposing
every inch of my naked flesh to his starving eyes. Somehow I stood up straight,
pushing my pert breasts towards him. My nipples could have cut ice from how
hard they had become as adrenalin shunted through me. Amar stroked his beard,
muttering some prayer of thanks to Allah while staring shamelessly at my
vulnerable body. Even as his words terrified me, my desperately excited pussy
trickled its desire down my tightened legs.
Amar
stalked forward and placed his dark-copper hands on me. The contrast of his
rough, dirty fingers sliding across my pale skin made me shiver. He circled me,
fondling my belly, my tits, and then my ass. Muttering still in his native
tongue, he gave my ass a quick strike with his palm. I yelped, and he grunted.
“Kafir… sharmuta,” he said, again and
again. Infidel whore. My Christian pussy twinged as my natural predator pawed
at my vulnerable body. Brazen and uncaring, he slid his grungy fingers between
my thighs and caught the quim collecting between my pussy lips. It was tacky
and thick. It was the right time of the month to make a baby, and I swore I
could feel my ovary give up its precious egg right as I felt his hardening cock
slap against my ass.
“Sharmuta!”
He slapped my ass again, and I bit back a scream. Sluts weren’t allowed to talk
back to men, not in his culture. Infidel women existed for only two reasons: To
pleasure Islamic men, and to breed more Muslim warriors. He shoved me up
against the wall and pinned me there. I was helpless as the Arabic man lined
himself up with my blonde fuckhole.
“Don’t
rape – Ughhh!”
The
barbarian thrust hard, burying his Islamic spear deep into my German honeypot.
My legs shook and my head tossed back. It would have hurt had my pussy not
drenched his cock in my quim as he rutted into me. Like a dirty dog, Amar humped
hard and fast till his dark-copper hips slapped against my pale ass. He reached
deep, deeper than my boyfriends. Deeper than my own race.
I
wailed, yet thrust my ass back to meet his strokes. What else could I do? I was
cumming, gushing my shameful juices down my thighs as Amar conquered my
Christian pussy. It was wrong for a good German girl to enjoy having sex with
an invader. Worse to do so unprotected.
Suddenly
he yanked my head back, his fingers playing through my blonde locks. He smelled
my shampoo, my foreign scent, and I felt his Arabian cock throb inside my
belly. It hurt so good to be reined back, in the hands of a hungry monster
intent on using my as his infidel cumrag.
He
punched his member deep into me again and again till I screamed out in another
anguished orgasm. Whatever loyalty I had left for my people he battered away,
stroke by stroke against my womb. The girth of his cock bulged out my belly as
I ran my fingers over my stomach. His heavy balls, laden with his warrior seed,
tightened amid his increasingly loud grunts.
“Pull
out!” I whined, pushing myself fully onto his cock even as his fingers grasped
my throat. “If you cum I’ll-”
“KAFIR! SHARMUTA!” he spat, nearly
choking me as he reached his peak. He howled out to his foreign god as his hot
jism exploded inside me. Blasts of dark Islamic sperm stained my helpless white
womb. Once pure and untouched by foreigners like my homeland, my womb now
flooded with Islamic warriors bent on conquering my precious German egg.
He
did it. He ruined my mind for anyone but a Muslim man, and for anything but
dark-skinned Islamic cock. And my eyes rolled back, my scream coming out only
as a choked squeal as I came hard on his spurting cock. And without an ounce of
shame, my body milked every ounce of his cum out into my fertile, infidel cunt.
I
slid to the floor the moment he wrenched back. I was senseless, still shivering
in a pool of our mixed juices as Amar laughed and wiped the excess of our
fucking out into my golden hair. His footsteps toured around me as my head sank
to the floor, my body too weak from ecstasy to even sit upright anymore. I
watched him browse around my apartment, stealing the cash from my purse and
grabbing whatever he pleased to shove into his grungy bag of loot.
Then,
as quickly as he had come, he was gone. The front door slammed shut behind him,
and my apartment was quiet again. In the end I was just another stop in his
night of looting. God knows how many other houses he and his fellows hit that
night, and how many other German girls he defiled. All I knew was that he stole
more from me than some silverware and money.
Amar
stole me away from my people. Forever.
I
never did call the police. I didn’t want to, not after realizing my purpose in
life. As a kafir. As a sharmuta. I kept his hot Arabian sperm inside me as long
as I could, even crawling into bed and putting pillows beneath my ass so I
could feel his Muslim sperm going where it belonged: Right into my Christian
womb.
And
Amar came back. Of course he did, once he needed more of my money and more of
my German pussy. It wasn’t that I gave both of them to him despite dropping my
clothes every time he darkened my doorstep. He took me however he wanted and
left me time and again panting, inseminated, and conquered on my own bed. A bed
he came to claim as his, along with the woman who slept on top of it.
I
surrendered everything of myself to Amar: My home, my mind, and my body. And
now as I write this, my hand is playing across my stomach. I can’t help myself
anymore. It’s so big now, swollen up with Amar’s dark seed. Yes, I’m pregnant.
Pregnant with the future of my nation – a dark-skinned, Islamic future where
every pretty blonde Christian girl is enslaved to a warrior of Allah and swollen
up with Islamic babies.
I
know I will never be an asset to my country. I will be its downfall, bearing up
the warriors who will sweep across my beloved home. My daughters will grow up
to birth more brown-skinned Muslims, and my sons to rape every last white
Christian girl till we Germans are nothing but the sex slaves. We will swell, blonde-haired
and blue-eyed sluts with big bellies full of beautiful Arabian babies destined
to conquer the rest of Europe.
It’s
enough to make this race traitor cum again.
AHHH!! I absolutely loved this story! Please write more about immigrants! You could even make it into a series, covering a different European nation in every story ;)
ReplyDelete"My daughters will grow up to birth more brown-skinned..."
ReplyDeleteModel Gigi Hadid and her siblings are the results of a Middle-Eastern father and a white European mother and they all look very white to me.