CelebsGoBlack.com/Scene6Starring:
Shailene WoodleyMarcus Washington, the tall, dark-skinned program director at Giving Black, was sat at his glass top desk, shuffling through a pile of applicants for the next highly anticipated scene at CelebsGoBlack.com. The organisation received applications in their hundreds every single day from black kids across Los Angeles and the surrounding areas; each one hopeful of being the next lucky young man to be sucked into a coma for charity.
Each application consisted of three images; a full body nude picture of the hopeful applicant, along with close ups of his face and groin. Accompanying the images was an application form downloaded from CelebsGoBlack.com, where each candidate entered their personal information; their name, date of birth, height, weight, etc, a personal statement detailing their hobbies and interests, and finally a description of how the money would be used should they be chosen. Lastly, included in the application was a copy of the candidate's parent’s most recent bank statements, to determine their financial suitability.
The selection of male talent was a three step process. First, Washington’s assistant Alysha trawled through each and every application; immediately binning any that didn’t include any one of these components. Then, the images were passed onto former pornstar Cindy Slick who checked the faces, bodies and, most importantly, the cocks were worthy of adult entertainment. Finally, the remaining applicants were handed onto Washington himself, who took on the rigorous task of picking the lucky applicant based on their finances and proposals.
Washington went through the stack of applications, reading each one diligently in search of that perfect candidate. He was about halfway through the tall pile when one particular application caught his eye. A toothy grin stretched across his dark, handsome face when he read the name at the top of the page; Royce Tillman. Royce Tillman was about as middle class as it got. He was an aspiring boxer who trained in a gym in the suburbs which, while not up to professional standard, was a far cry from the kind of inner city shitheap Washington was used to reading about. His father was an executive raking in $130,000 a year and he had a grade point average of 4.1; a place at UCLA awaiting him in the fall.
Washington knew all this without reading past the young man’s name, because Royce Tillman was the son of Ervin Tillman, Washington’s best friend since childhood. He’d known Royce since birth. In fact he was practically his uncle and had followed his exploits in the ring since day one. The thought of being on close terms with the next Floyd Mayweather appealed to him greatly and Washington knew the boy’s talent to be such that he could reach that level with the right coaching and facilities. Plus, the opportunity to mess with the young man was too good to resist.
“After a handout from Giving Black are we, Royce?” he grinned, dropping the other applications, half of which he hadn’t as much as glanced at, straight into his waste paper basket. “You’ll get your money, son. But it ain’t gonna come easy.”
*
Ricky Hornball was sat in the passenger’s seat of his gas-guzzling SUV, his camera pointed out the window as the vehicle sped past rows of large, middle class suburban homes. He panned across the interior, past his assistant Chloe as she manned the steering wheel and around to the rear of the vehicle. Royce Tillman was sat leisurely across the backseat, his strong arms spread across the leather backrests as he grinned confidently at the camera lens. He had well-groomed dark chocolate skin and deep, soulful brown eyes, his afro hair sheared neatly into a 90’s rap-style high top fade.
“Excited for your scene today, Royce?” asked Hornball, as he trained his HD camera on the dark-skinned youth.
“Aww, hell yeah!” he exclaimed. “Brand new gym built just for me and the best boxing coach in California at my beck and call, and all I gotta do is fuck a fine ass white girl. Shit, what’s not to like?” he added, showcasing two rows of pearly white teeth as he flashed a cocky smile at the lens.
Hornball cleared his throat, the now world renowned smut peddler doing his best to mask a knowing smirk. “Well, you won’t be fucking your co-star today…”
“OK, a blowjob, that’s cool,” Royce interrupted. “Hope the girl got a wide throat. She gonna need it.”
“Erm...yeah, something like that,” Hornball replied.
“Who am I working with anyhow?” Royce enquired.
“Today, Royce,” Hornball began, “you’ll be working with Shailene Woodley. You like her?”
“From Spiderman?” Royce asked. “Yeah, she cute.”
“She is,” the director agreed. “Now, you’ll be pleased to hear that Giving Black have requested that I remain quiet during this scene. So when we get to the set house, it’ll just be you and Shailene without me interrupting.”
“Shit, that works for me, man,” said Royce.
“I”m sure it does,” Hornball replied. “Speaking of which, that’s it up ahead.”
Hornball pointed his camera through the windshield as the SUV turned into the driveway of a large suburban home and pulled up in front of the garage. Royce and Hornball climbed out, the director following his male talent up to the front door.
“Why don’t you knock on the door and see who’s inside?” said Hornball.
Royce wrapped his knuckles on the thick wooden door and stepped back as soft footsteps approached from side. The door opened and in the yawning portal stood Shailene Woodley; the brown-haired actress kitted out in a thigh-long nightgown, the slinky garment open just enough to offer a teasing glimpse of her delectable C cup cleavage. Her silky chestnut locks neatly slicked back and held in place with more hair product than the state of New Jersey, while dark grey shadow and thick mascara brought out her deep browns of her eyes.
“Hi,” she said, smiling warmly, “you must be Royce.”
She stepped aside to allow him through.
“That’s me,” he grinned as he passed. “Damn girl, you look fine as a motherfucker.”
“Err, thanks...I think,” Shailene replied, closing the door after Ricky Hornball once he’d followed in behind.
Royce took a step forward, wrapping an arm around Shailene and pulling her toned, slender body into his.
“Shit baby, you got it goin’ on, you know that?” he said, reaching down to cup a handful of her supple round ass.
“Woah there!” Shailene exclaimed, nudging the black youth away. “Don’t you want to see what I’ve got on under here?” she asked, pulling tantalisingly at the top of her nightgown with a black tipped finger.
“Fuck yeah, I wanna see, girl,” Royce replied, eyeing up the teasing outline of her hot, athletic body.
“Follow me then and I’ll show you,” said Shailene, taking her co-star by the hand and leading him through to the next room.
She opened the door and stopped in the dark doorway. The blinds were down in the chamber beyond, the room pitch black as she lingered in the open portal.
“And no more of this ‘girl’ business,” she added, the brunette untying the clasp on her nightgown as she stood in the doorway with her back turned.
Shailene inched the silky garment down her slender arms, turning to face the dark-skinned youth as he stood in the open doorway. Royce’s jaw dropped nearly to the floor as his co-star stood before him, hands on her shapely hips as she grinned back devilishly at the tall black stud. Her gorgeous toned frame had been squeezed into a leather basque; the tight-fitting garment pushing up her deliciously pert tits to such a degree that they almost spilled free from the low cut bodice altogether. Various straps and buckles crossed perky chest and taut midriff, while a black latex thong clung to her lower half; offering a teasing outline of her gloriously well-defined camel toe.
“From here on you will address me as ‘mistress’ or ‘ma’am’, she continued. “Understood?”
Royce didn’t respond; the ebony-skinned teen still gawking in disbelief at her heavenly body in the tight, form-fitting fetish gear.
“Hey!” she barked with a click of her black painted fingers. “I said ‘understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Royce, the black youth still staring slack jawed at the leather-clad beauty before him.
“Good,” grinned Shailene. “Lose the clothes.”
“Hmm?” Royce murmured, looking up blankly at his domineering co-star.
“You heard,” said Shailene. “Lose the clothes.”
Royce pulled his white tank top over his head, baring his chiseled, black coffee torso in all its musclebound, ab-lined glory.
“Mmm, nice,” Shailene declared as she eyed up ripped young stud.
Then he lowered his gym shorts and kicked off his sneakers; the tall black hunk stood in the hallway in little more than a pair of boxer briefs, his huge, coal-dark cock coiled up inside.
“Ooh, wow!” Shailene exclaimed. “Let’s see what you’ve got under there.”
Royce tugged down his underwear, his big black dick dangling down almost to his knees, two equally large, equally dark bulging, round testicles hanging pendulously on either side.
“Mmm!” she grinned. “Mama like!”
She reached into the darkened room; re-emerging with a riding crop in one hand and a dog collar on a chain in the other. She approached her co-star; tucking the crop under her arm as she fastened the collar around his neck. She gripped the chain with her left hand, lightly tapping the boy’s ever stiffening cock with her riding crop.
“On your knees,” she instructed.
Royce did as directed.
“There’s a good boy,” Shailene laughed, placing a hand atop his neatly barbed hair. “Now crawl.”
Royce looked up at her quizzically.
“Crawl,” she said again, tugging lightly on the dog chain.
Royce dropped down onto all fours, crawling behind the kinky brunette as she led him into the darkened room. Hornball followed in behind, his camera trained on the A-list dom and her dark-skinned pet as he guided him through the open doorway. She flicked on the light and the layout of the room finally came into view. A long black bench sat in the centre; all manner of cuffs and buckles hanging from the padded seat, while a host of bondage items from whips to gags, ticklers to blindfolds were mounted on all four walls. Shailene grabbed a bright red ball gag from atop a wooden cabinet and held it in her hand.
“Mouth,” she said.
Royce parted his thick African lips and she popped the gag in place, fastening it tightly behind his nappy head.
“That’s better,” she grinned, tapping him lightly on the cheek with her fingers.
Royce knelt obediently at her feet as the brown-haired starlet added the finishing touches to her outfit. She stepped into a pair of black leather boots; the actress zipping them right up to the thigh before slipping on a set of elbow length lycra gloves. Then, she gathered a tube of lipstick from the top of the cabinet and puckered her already luscious, full lips, coating them an intimidating shade of black.
“Come along,” said Shailene, tugging at the chain as she led her chiseled pet across the room.
She stopped at the bench and unlinked the chain from the dog collar.
“Up you pop,” she grinned, patting the top of the bench.
Royce climbed up onto the bench and laid out on his back, his big, long cock trailing down over his swollen ball sack and across the leather padding. She wrapped a number of black leather straps across his muscled frame and pulled them tight; one across his ankles, one across his thighs and another across his chest. Then she cuffed his wrists to the table legs. She looked down at her handiwork and grinned. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Shailene set her riding crop on the side of the bench and crossed the room, the heels on her shiny black fetish boots clicking on the floor as she went. She took a feather tickler from the wall and returned to the bench. A naughty smirk stretched across her pretty face as she ran the fetish implement tantalisingly up his leg and the inside of his thigh, Hornball shooting from across the padded bench as she teased her bound co-star. Then she moved across to his cock; the brown-haired starlet tickling his crown with the feathered stick.
“Hmmhmm,” she grinned, noticing a certain stir in the young man’s nether regions. “You like that, huh?”
Royce said nothing. Shailene gathered her crop from the top of the bench and struck him in the thigh.
“You speak when you’re spoken to,” she warned. “I said ‘you like that, don’t you?’.”
“Uhh!” Royce groaned, his attempt at communication halted by the red gag stuffed in his mouth.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” laughed Shailene.
She ran the tickler up and down the span of his shaft, his cock growing and hardening with each pass. Then she lifted up the half-hard wang, slipping the fluffy stick between his thighs to tickle his swollen balls.
“Let’s see if we can’t get that dick nice and hard, hmm?”
She let Royce’s half-mast dong flop back down against his thigh then returned to the far wall; coming back with a short black leather strap. She wrapped it around his meaty thigh and fastened it; the thin strap cutting across the well-defined boundary of his swelling cockhead. She ran the tickler up and down his shaft once more, grinning like a Cheshire cat as his cock throbbed and stiffend against his leg. A pool of precum began to form in the tip of his wang and Shailene dabbed at it with the tip of her gloved finger, smearing the sticky man mess across his crown and watching as it twitched and pulsed in its restricted stance.
“What do we think?” asked Shailene. “That cock nice and stiff yet?”
She undid the strap to take a look; Royce’s thick black prong shooting up to full tilt like a fleshy catapult.
“Yep,” she grinned. “Hard as a rock.”
She walked across to the cabinet, slid open a drawer and took out a bottle of lube. She returned to the bench, squeezing out a hearty dose of the sticky clear fluid which splattered down over the head of his cock.
“HMMM!” Royce exclaimed as best he could.
“Whoops!” Shailene laughed. “That a bit cold, is it?”
Shailene set down the bottle of lube and wrapped her hand around his junk. She stroked his shaft; her lycra gloved paw roaming up and down the length of his greasy pole in expertly timed passes. *SCHLICK* *SCHLOCK* *SCHLICK* came the sounds as she pulled his lubed up pork; his girthy dong throbbing and pulsing as she beat him off. Before long, her hand was little more than a jet black blur; the randy brunette tugging at his long, thick pole like a seasoned milk maid.
“Not gonna cum yet, are you?” asked Shailene, looking up at the bound young stud with a sly, devilish grin.
Royce shook his head.
“Good,” she added. “But just to be on the safe side, I think I better slow things down a touch.”
She walked over to the far wall and returned with a second leather strap; longer and thicker than the first. She fed it under his supine frame and pushed his dick back; fastening the strap and pinning the girthy black member to his midriff. His cock was so long it extended nearly halfway up his torso; the thick black dong peaking almost at the top of his abs. Shailene grinned down at her handiwork; the kinky starlet tracing a single latex finger slowly along the underside of his shaft. By this point, Royce’s prick was leaking like a sieve; a river of clear, diluted prespunk streaming from the tip and across his chiseled frame.
Then, Shailene climbed up onto the bench and knelt between his splayed legs as she took a closer inspection of his genitals. She started with the balls; the brown-haired actress cupping the giant, plum-sized gonads in her gloved hand, rolling them around her palm like big flesh marbles and gently squeezing them with her fingers.
“God, these things are huge!” she exclaimed. “You got a big load in there for me, huh?”
“Uhhh!” was about all Royce could manage in response.
Shailene unstrapped his cock and sprung up to attention once more. She reached for the bottle of lube; squirting a second helping of the clear, slick grease over his head and watched it dribble down to the thick, veiny shaft. She wrapped both hands around the lubed up wang and got back to work; the randy starlet performing an array of impressive twisting and jerking, turning and stroking motions as she beat the long black dong like there was no tomorrow. It throbbed and pulsed in her latex mits; the girthy dark wang going like an athlete’s ticker as she pulled it six ways from Sunday.
Royce clung to the bench legs for dear life, the long padded table shaking and creaking like it could collapse at any second. His balls were bulging and swelling like nobody’s business; a load thicker and more virile than ever before churning away inside. Royce closed his eyes in wait of the eruption; a burst of piping hot fluid so violent and explosive it would put Mount Vesuvius to shame. His dick throbbed and pumped, twitched and pulsed, ready to blow when…
Nothing. He opened his eyes. Shailene had released his wang and was untying the straps from around his supine frame. His cock was flopping back and forth like it was being operated via remote control. She squatted down and undid the cuffs around his wrist; standing up once more with the riding crop in her hand.
“Up,” she said, slapping the cane against her palm.
Royce climbed down from the bench.
“Knees.”
He dropped to all fours. Shailene reattached the chain to his dog collar and lead him across the room, Hornball following behind with his camera in tow. A tall wooden frame stood against the far wall, with two single steel cuffs dangling from the top beam and two leather ones attached to the bottom. Shailene unlinked the lead from the collar and struck her palm with the crop once more.
“Stand.”
He did.
“In you go,” she instructed, motioning to the wooden frame with a wave of her riding crop.
Royce stepped onto the bottom beam and awaited further direction.
“Hands.”
He raised his arms. Shailene closed the steel cuffs around his wrists then squatted at his feet.
“Spread ‘em.”
Royce parted his legs; the tall black youth adopting a mid-jumping jack stance as Shailene fastened the leather cuffs to his ankles. She returned to the back wall once more; this time returning with a feather tickler and a leather flogger. She started with the tickler; running the fluffy tool up and down his sculpted back, before slipping it between his butt cheeks, his cock flopping up and down in response as she teased his asshole with the soft, feathery end.
Then, Shailene moved onto the flogger, the kinky starlet hitting the fetish implement against his back, thighs and ass; the tassles producing a loud crack as it connected with his musclebound frame, each strike met with a dull groan from the thrust up stud. She hit him harder each time; the final strike across his ass eliciting a loud ‘MMM!!!’ from her bound up pet.
“Oh, did that hurt, baby?” she asked in a cruel, mocking tone. “Don’t worry, mama will kiss it better.”
Then, without missing a beat, Shailene dropped to her knees; parting Royce’s butcheeks with her lyrca gloved hands and burrowed her face in his stripwaxed crack. She lapped at his asshole; the brown-haired beauty flicking her tongue back and forth across his balloon knot, even delving it inside for good measure as she buried her pretty face between his asscheeks like an ostrich in the sand.
But she wasn’t done yet, not by a long shot, and as she tonguefucked his asshole, Shailene reached around to stroke his twitching wang; the randy brunette tooting the trombone like she was first chair in the school band. She licked and tongued, stroked and jerked; the horny actress performing both motions with the skill and expertise of a seasoned pornstar.
Royce was clinging onto his ejaculate for dear life; his thrust up frame trembling from head to toe as he was worked over from both ends by the kinky brunette. Every lap at his ass and stroke of his dong made the girthy black member twitch and throb; drops of precum dripping from his open slit like a leaking faucet.
By now, Shailene was tonguing at his ass, jerking his dong AND fondling his balls at the same time; a feat of multitasking even the most experienced of Times Square hookers could only dream of. She could feel this dick pulsing and pounding as she stroked him, detect the creamy, hot spunkwand brewing in his balls even through her thick latex glove. She had tortured him long enough (literally), it was time she put the black stud out of his misery.
Shailene gripped the cock with her two hands; the horny starlet still tonguing his asshole as she beat his meat with both her dexterous paws. She stroked and jerked, pulled and tugged, Royce’s dick twitching, pulsing, throbbing, his balls bulging, brewing, churning until…
“MMMMMM!!!” he groaned around the ball gag in his mouth as a warm load of thick, gloopy spunk blasted from the hole in his dick and splattered across the floor.
Shailene prized her pretty face from Royce’s crack and walked around to inspect her handiwork; a spunk trajectory that ought to have earned the brunette an entry in the Guiness Book of Records. Hornball moved in for a close up; his lens following the trail of semen across the floor and up the adjacent wall.
“Wow!” Shailene exclaimed. “You went off like a rocket, huh?”
“Uhh!!” Royce exclaimed, his barrel chest heaving as she came down from his explosive orgasm.
“You know, that cum load looks good enough to drink,” said Shailene, dropping to a squat before him and looking up at the ripped black stud with her glistening hazelnut eyes. “What do you think, big boy? You got another in you?”
“And cut!” yelled Ricky Hornball, lowering his state of the art camera. “Wow, Shailene! That was one heck of a scene!”
“Thanks, Ricky!” she replied. “I certainly enjoyed myself. I’m sure Royce did too,” she added, looking across at her co-star. “Ain’t that right, honey?”
“Uhh!!” Royce groaned.
“That was a ‘yes’,” Shailene grinned.
Hornball laughed. “Right, well I think we oughta celebrate. Let Royce down and come on through to the lounge. We’ll have a little drink together.”
“Great! See you in a sec,” Shailene replied, smiling warmly as Hornball headed for the exit.
He left the room and closed the door behind him. Shailene turned back to Royce; her friendly smile replaced by the stern glare of a strict school headmistress.
“Don’t get too excited. I’m not done with you yet,” she warned, gathering her riding crop and striking it firmly against her gloved hand. “Let’s see how badly you want that money.”
End of Scene 6
Topic: CelebsGoBlack.com (Shailene Woodley) (Read 33615 times)