My GangBang Interview by Deepti

Hi Deepti here
This is a highly requested but long story and is also a long term fantasy of mine.

I was the hottest reporter on television at the moment. My career had skyrocketed over the past two years with my uncanny ability to sniff out momentous leads, as well as landing extraordinary interviews with infamous celebrities, disgraced politicians, and celebrated lawbreakers. That I was only twenty-four years of age was only part of my aura – I had a Master’s degree in Journalism, an incredible razor-sharp intellect, and an amazing talent to rise to the top.

I was also a complete and arrogant bitch.

The public didn’t know how I bent and twisted the rules to get where I was now. They didn’t know how many balls I had busted. They didn’t know of the people I had screwed over, or lied to, or blackmailed. I had fucked over so many people that if I ever made a mistake, I knew there was no one out there to save me.

I didn’t care, though. I knew I was the best. That’s why I was at the top, and that’s why I would stay at the top. Take right now, for instance. Here I was, inside the Delhi prison – one of the most violent prisons in the country – interviewing Afzal Pathan, the notorious serial rapist.

I smiled inwardly – I was on live television, coast to coast, within a prison filled with real prisoners, interviewing the infamous Afzal Pathan, aka The Balatkari Miyan. The censors were terrified and had put a five-second delay on the feed. The networks were scared Afzal would whip out his dick and start masturbating. The warden had hated the whole thing from the get-go, insisting that his prison was too dangerous for a hot little number like reporter Deepti Singh, and that the prisoners might riot at my presence.

Of course they might riot, I thought to myself amusingly. I knew I was smoking hot. Other words, such as lovely and beautiful, would also work. I am tall at five feet, eight inches tall, but that didn’t matter in television. What mattered was that I was photogenic, and I had that in spades. Long, wavy, platinum locks that ran to the past my shoulders framed me adorably cute face, pert nose, big black eyes, lush red lips, and young, pale skin. These features had made my famous on television, and – although I didn’t have that classic “model” look – I was still sexy and sultry, in that “girl next door you’d spy on all day” kind of way.

For such a tall girl, I had an unbelievable rack; massive D-cup breasts that mesmerized all half of country when I was the substitute anchor for my network. On those nights I would make sure wardrobe had some form fitting and sexy for me to wear – preferably something made of silk and was as thin as possible. But the rest of my body had also been noticed – from my thin waist, to my teenage ass, all the way down to my slender legs. I – bright, inquisitive, bold and courageous – had also become a favorite target for the paparazzi these past few months. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I tried to dress my sexiest whenever I went out now, delighting whenever I saw pictures of myself in the tabloids. Whether they caught my in a yoga outfit (figure-hugging tights that showed off my voluptuous body), in a cocktail dress (short mini-skirts to paint the town red), or throwing out the garbage (tiny shorts and a tank top), it always meant that someone – somewhere – was thinking about Deepti Singh!

Today I was wearing one of my favorite outfits: a figure-hugging pink blazer cut to show off my ample bosom, paired with a tight matching-pink skirt which was super-short to show off my bare, silky legs. Underneath the blazer I wore a silky see-through, armless white blouse, with a cream-colored lacy bra to top it off (matching sexy thong underwear, of course). Lastly, I had on a pair of sexy white stilettos, with five-inch heels to give my some extra height. My hair was pulled back in a pony-tail, and I decided to put on some white glasses for that sexy-librarian look. All in all, I looked breathtaking and caused quite a ruckus walking through the jail earlier, heels clicking on the cement floor as the prisoners whistled and hollered at my with lewd comments. Twenty prison officers guided my through my journey to the interview room.

The room was actually a virtually impregnable room that had large bulletproof windows, and I wanted the television audience to see outside these windows where the prison fence and guard towers were, a distance away. The room itself was built for facility lockdowns for guards and had an ample power supply, another reason that led me and my producer, Arun, to choose this place; it had enough room and power to set up their cameras and lights.

The warden hated this idea because the room was a “safe house” within the prison – a place where guards could hold up if needed, but the room itself was situated far from other guard facilities, meaning it was rather isolated in an emergency. I half-listened to the warden try to explain all of this to me – the look on my face clearing showing that this was all minor shit that I didn’t want to deal with. Eventually I had pulled some strings, and the warden had no choice but to allow the television crew to use this room, but the man wasn’t too happy about it.

I didn’t care, and – halfway through the interview with Afzal Pathan – I was pleased that I was right, thinking that no one but I could have pulled this off. All of the red tape, the bending of rules, made for an even more satisfying interview. It had been hard, and I had had made many enemies just setting this one interview up alone, but it had definitely been worth it.

And what an interview this was shaping up to be! Afzal was pouring his heart out to me. He was angry – he was sad! He said some delightfully crazy things, which made him seem that much more dangerous next to her. It was a nice contrast – the hulking, threatening black rapist – known for his large dick – dressed in his prison uniform and sitting across from the diminutive young reporter who looked so defenseless and helpless next to him in my hot pink business suit. It also made for great television.

Arun was giving me an enthusiastic thumbs-up sign, which at this stage usually meant that ratings were through the roof; the producer was in constant contact with the network and could tell when the bigwigs were happy. Even the cameraman, Abhay, was uncharacteristically pumped and enthusiastic at the moment. Usually the man was pretty low-key, but the location and subject matter were exceptional, and he was pretty excited to be there as well, it seemed.

Of course things were going well, I thought to myself. I pulled back when Afzal responded back too loudly, as if I were afraid of the man, my innocent black eyes wavering in fear. Deepti Singh was quite the actress, and I knew how to get the audience eating out of my hand.

Leaning forward, squeezing my tits together with my arms, I then asked my next question. “Afzal – you had stated for the record that your last trial – against the victim Swati Sharma – was all bluster and show. That it was a circus – a show-trial. You said it was meant to make an example of you, and that a lot of the evidence was circumstantial. What do you have to say about that?”

Afzal Pathan smiled charismatically for the camera. “I stand by what I said. If you actually go through the evidence – a lot of it was circumstantial, and really it was my word against that cunt Swati Sharma!”

“Afzal – please!” I said, in a scolding tone. “This is live television – you can’t use words like that!”

“My apologies, Miss Deepti!” grinned Afzal. “It was the coozes word against mine! Can I say cooze on TV?”

Just then there was a loud noise outside of the room, followed by some heavy shouting. I turned briefly over at Arun with a questioning expression, but then turned my attention back to Afzal. The room had only four guards in it; a few others were outside and the rest were taking a break, waiting for the interview to end.

“I – I’m not sure, Afzal!” I responded, truthfully. For a split second doubt entered my mind, and I felt rather exposed – one woman in the prison full of dangerous prisoners. Then I continued onward, ever the professional. “But go ahead and use that colorful phrase, and we’ll let the network censors deal with it!”

Arun, in the meantime, had given me another thumbs-up for my clever response. He was watching the interview on a small monitor and listening to this with a set of large earphones, to ensure that the censors were doing a good job. What was showing on this monitor wasn’t the raw feed of the camera, but actually what the audience at home would be seeing, complete with commercials.

“Cool! Well – this cooze – she’s pretty much begging for it, ya know? I don’t outright say it, but I wanted me to fuck her!” Afzal said with a lascivious grin on his face.

“Afzal – please!” I said, looking downwards innocently. It was hard to control, but I found that pretending to be a little bit shy and demure paid off in spades.

“Oops! Sorry again, Miss Deepti!” said Afzal, enjoying the limelight and the company of the sexy reporter like me. He kept staring at my tight young body and big, bouncy tits like there was no tomorrow, having not seen a female in the flesh for nearly a year. “Well – like I said, I was practically begging for it! I can read body language – that sort of stuff – ya know?”

I leaned forward, adjusted my glasses, and then brought my hand to my chin, as if in deep thought. “So you’re saying that what happened between you and Swati Sharma was consensual?”

“Yes,” replied Afzal, “of course it was consensual! That little cooze was dripping wet and by the time we were done! And believe me – I had a good time!” The big black man’s boastful tone was dripping with pride and arrogance.

I succeeded in holding back a smile. This asshole was making my interview so good! The man had the ego the size of the Titanic, and a sense of self-delusion that bordered on psychotic. He was huge and looked like a pro footballer, and he looked sensational next to the me.

“When does ‘no’ mean ‘no,’ Afzal?” I asked. It was a loaded question and I knew this would make the audience perk up. “After all, Swati Sharma said in my testimony that I repeatedly yelled out ‘No!’ when you raped her!”

“When I had sex with her, Miss Deepti,” Afzal said lightly, “but to answer your question, she was really yelling out, ‘No – don’t stop, Afzal – No – don’t stop fucking me!’ That’s what she was screaming out!”

“Language, Afzal, language!” I reprimanded the prisoner. I took off my glasses and chewed on the end of it sexily. Then the young woman, in my best sultry school teacher expression, asked, “So are women just your playthings, Afzal? And you are wrongfully accused because they are secretly asking for sex? That they secretly want to have sex with you?”

“Yes, Miss!” replied Afzal.

“So,” I continued, “what makes you different, Afzal Pathan? How do you know when a woman wants or needs sex? How are you different than other men?”

“Simple – because women feel the difference when they have sex with me! They may not want it at first, but soon they are lovin’ it, this I guarantee! All women are just bitches in heat – they just hide it inside! When I fuck ’em – that just brings it all out of ’em bitches!”

“That seems rather condescending towards women, don’t you think, Afzal? That we women are all just “bitches in heat!?” I asked incredulously. “I can assure you that -“

“Have you ever had really great sex?” Afzal interrupted the reporter, his eyes maniacally ogling my huge tits.

I appeared a bit flustered at this question, but it was still just an act; I was actually ecstatic about where this conversation was heading. “Ummm – errr – what does that have to do with this?”

“Because if you’ve never had great sex, then you won’t know what I’m talking about! You see – your lust is caged up deep inside of you, and – while you may not know it, while you may deny it – you’re just begging for the right person to free that lust! Miss Deepti, that person is me!”

I struggled to put this into words and wrap this up. Commercials were coming up in five seconds. “Because you’re what? You’re a – a -“

“Because I’m a natural born fucker!” said Afzal in a lazy drawl, an evil gleam in his eyes.

The camera focused on his face for a moment, zooming in closer, to enhance the moment. Then Arun gave the signal to cut, and they were off the air. Both he and Abhay gave each other a high-five, and Arun said, “Lovely, Deepti! Network is eating this up! This is going to be your highest rated interview yet!”

“Fucking A!” chimed in Abhay. Then he laughed, shaking his head. “Natural born fucker! Damn!”

“Three minutes!” warned Arun, looking at his watch and timing themselves for after the commercial break.

That loud noise was there again, outside the room, bringing a low thudding boom to their already confined environment. And then the radios on the four guards were suddenly crackling, and they answered back in hushed tones. It was altogether very distracting for me to concentrate, as I struggled to go through some of my notes.

“Yes – I agree these two!” said Afzal, eying me intently. “You are lovely, and definitely a fucking A!”

“Now now, Afzal,” I said absentmindedly, toying with my glasses in my hand, “behave yourself! We have ten more minutes left for our interview, so when we’re done, I’ll make sure you get a nice treat for all your cooperation today!”

More sounds from outside, and the guards had raised their voices now. I could absolutely not work in this type of setting! “Can you officers please keep it down? And Arun – go see what is going on outside!”

The producer had stepped over, unlocked, and then opened the steel door before the four officers could notice or stop him. One of the guards looked over and shouted at him loudly, fear in his voice. “NO!! CLOSE THAT -“

Suddenly the door was shoved open and a bunch of prison prisoners surged into the room. Arun hit the wall and crumpled to the floor, while the four guards were quickly overpowered. A bunch of prisoners came in and then closed the entrance. After which there was a moment of stunned silence in the room, as if no one really could believe this had happened.

I and Abhay were absolutely dumbfounded. We were surrounded by ten to two now, with the guards and Arun down, being held down by some burly prisoners. Abhay had his camera on his shoulder, and didn’t know what to do. I was sitting tensely in my chair, speechless.

Afzal was the first to break the silence. “Fuck! What the hell is going on out there!?”

A huge man – with tattoos and handlebar mustache – answered back. “Big riot, Afzal! The minute this reporter bitch showed up, the place has been a zoo. Dunno what happened – a whole bunch of us got out before they could lock the place down. All the guards who weren’t caught out in the open are in their guardhouses, trapped! All for this one gorgeous cooze!”

I didn’t like the way the man looked at me, and exchanged a nervous glance with Abhay. Suddenly the phone rang, and everyone stared at it. Afzal went over and picked it up.

A voice on the other end was speaking urgently. “Arun – what the hell is going on!? You were supposed to be broadcasting a minute ago!!”

“Ah – sorry! Hold on!” replied Afzal, a malicious smile on his face. It was as if a light bulb had appeared over his head. He said to Abhay, “Turn on the camera, boy!”

It was if a bucket of cold water had splashed over my face. Dropping my glasses, I came out of my trance. “Stop! Don’t do it, Abhay!”

Abhay looked at me and then at Afzal, who flexed his large muscles and gave him a leering grin. He opted to go for the less painful option available to him and turned on his camera. “We’re live!” he whispered. They could see on the monitor near the back that they were on the air, showing the live feed coming from Abhay’s camera.

“Point the camera at me, boy!” ordered Afzal, who then flashed a smile with his white teeth. “Good afternoon! Sorry for the delay, but we are now back at the Jail, where a full-scale riot has taken place and we are in lock-down!”

The big man picked me up and placed my on his lap. I didn’t try to stop him, since I was too shocked to do anything at the moment. I couldn’t believe they were on live TV! They were broadcasting, and I was not in control! In the back of my mind, I registered Afzal’s immense strength and size, and knew I was too powerless against him to mount any kind of attack, or even defense.

She tried to take back control of the situation. Looking in the camera, I said, “Ladies and gentlemen, what Afzal just said was true. But I’m sure the police have the situation in hand and have a plan in place – if they are not already in motion! I’m – I’m still fine, and will -“

“Hold on, honey! I’m not done yet!” said Afzal in a teasing tone, as he ran his hands along my shoulders and sides, giving me a few squeezes along the way.

I knew how bad this looked, because I could see myself on the monitor. I was sitting on Afzal’s lap with my knees and long, bare legs showing, my pink mini-skirt riding up high on my thighs. One of the man’s arms pulled me against him, wrapped around his right arm and slim waist. His other hand was roaming around, all over, before it ended up on my bare knee, clearly visible for the audience at home!

“C – Afzal! What are you -” I asked nervously.

But the man was only getting started. “If the network bigwigs want to keep this luscious young thing alive and in one piece, than I suggest you listen to my words carefully!” said the big black prisoner. “What you have to understand is that no one – and I mean no one – can get through that there door unless the prisoners in this room decide to open it, got that? Until then, these four guards, this producer, this cameraman, and this reporter, are our hostages. Okay!?”

Then Afzal squeezed one of my breasts, causing me to squeal out. “But if you network guys leave this live camera on, with NO censoring, and NO commercials, then we’ll let these people alive. Got that!? We’ve got a monitor here that will show us if we get cut off or not, so we will know!” Afzal opened top button on my pink blazer, my magnificent cleavage suddenly even more tantalizing. “I’m going to show you, the viewers at home, the Afzal Pathan philosophy that all women are ‘bitches in heat’ inside! All it takes is for the right man to set loose my passion – starting on this hot, snooty little reporter here!”

As the other prisoners in the room guffawed and enjoyed Afzal’s little tirade, I was horrified and stunned. Was this really happening?

“No – Afzal – you don’t have to do this! You can’t – not in front of – oh God – the viewers!” I pleaded, knowing that the audience was coast to coast, and hit most of northern country as well. Nearly all of the country could just turn on their televisions right now and watch as I was felt up this serial rapist. “OH NO!”

Afzal ignored my panic, and had undid my second and third buttons, opening up my blazer to show off my silky white blouse underneath, which was practically see-through; it wasn’t something that I would wear without something to cover it, so to show this off to television viewers was mortifying. My rack was spectacular, but with this blouse I looked really lewd. To make matters worse, my cream-colored lace bra made it look like I had gone braless, when I actually hadn’t. I tried to cover up my breasts with my free hand.

The men watched almost as in awe as Afzal began to fondle my wonderful tits. My tits were huge and real, feeling soft, pliable, and bouncy in his big hand. He went from one breast to the other, mauling me, defiling me. He loved how sexy it was that he could feel and pinch my hard erect nipples underneath the layers of sexy clothing, as if they were ripe, forbidden fruits, waiting to be picked and devoured.

“Fuck – what a pair of titties!” Afzal mumbled, nearly in disbelief at their circumstances. All of a sudden he grabbed the my shirt and pulled it down, ripping it easily off of my slim frame.

“NO!” I shrieked, struggling within the larger man’s grasp.

Was it just me or had it gotten exponentially hotter and more humid in that room, now full of burly, menacing men? I watched the monitor in horror as Afzal fondled my tits, slipping his fingers inside my bra to tweak my sensitive nipples. Then he pulled down my lacy bra by an inch. But an inch was all that was needed to broadcast to anyone watching my sweet, strawberry buds, all exposed.

“Please, Afzal! No – don’t -” I moaned out, utterly humiliated.

“Mmmm – take a look at these titties!” said the prisoner, taking no heed of my protests.

Both of his hands were now on my breasts, squeezing and pinching away. The reporters exposed, erect buds were fully abused on national television by this depraved prisoner! Afzal played with my sweet nipples in front of the camera for a few moments before he ripped off my bra and blazer altogether. By the time he was finished I – now with both arms free – was covering my nakedness once more.

This left my lower body completely defenseless for my tormentor – who was now happily cackling away – to reach underneath my skirt to get at my lacy cream panties. I shrieked girlishly and forgot about my tits, instead struggling with Afzal for control of my underwear. He was pulling them off, and I was trying to pull them up. It made for entertaining television.

We played this little game for a few minutes before Afzal won. It seemed my tiny lace panties were no match for a tall brutish Muslim man, and when the man thought enough was enough, he simply tore them off. This caused me to scream out again. Because of how I was sitting, the camera was low enough just to look up my skirt, so I was now much more concerned with covering my now visible, very bare and delicious looking cunt in front of a national audience. Afzal pulled up my skirt so that it bunched at my waist and then shoved his hand at my crotch.

“Oh SHIT!” I yelped out loudly. Afzal’s thick, fat fingers were strong and there wasn’t much I could do to prevent the man from fondling my pussy lips. He ferociously rubbed my clitoris for a minute and had me squirming madly in his lap.

“Hmmm, Miss Deepti!” exclaimed the big black prisoner.

“Oh GOD! No – no – no – no – no!” I cried, my knees opening and closing involuntarily. I was still trying to hide my bare cunt before the camera but knew how bad this look for her. Deepti Singh, the hottest reporter on TV, stared into the camera and desperately pleaded, “PLEASE! If you’re watching at home, please TURN OFF the television! Oh GOD! Stop – OH – DON’T WATCH THIS!! PLEASE DON’T WATCH!!”

Still grinning insanely, Afzal motioned for one of the prisoners to hand him some nearby cord, which the man used to bind my wrists behind my back. Next Afzal hooked his hands under my knees and then easily spread my legs wide for the camera. Moaning in despair, I turned a deep shade of red as I knew that probably millions of recorders were now whirling away, recording my fully exposed state.

By now one of the prisoners had commandeered the big HD camera, pulling Abhay away to sit with Arun and the other guards. This man was pretty good at using a camera, having actually shot a few low-budget porn flicks years ago. Licking his lips, the man showed me in all my nude glory, bare pink slit so tiny and pretty, and my huge tits that many men (and quite a few women) had dreamed about, but could now see in reality. Then the cameraman stepped closer, focusing really close to my snatch. Afzal brought both his hands and pulled apart my pink pussy lips, so that all could see how perfectly pretty my bare, smooth love-hole was.

“No – no – no – no – no!” I mumbled, exposed in a daze.

I was moaning out at the depravity of my situation, glancing over at the monitor and knowing that the close-up of my cunt was being broadcast in lurid HD detail. Afzal’s fingers slid over my increasingly moist slit, now using one hand to spread apart my lower-lips and the fingers from his other hand to stroke and tease my clit.

“Oh – this is fucking beautiful!” Afzal said in delight. “All you guys out there watching this – did you ever want to take this darling and spread her pussy like this, and imagine what’s between those sexy legs of hers? Well – take a long look, people! This is one of the sweetest little pussies I’ve ever seen!”

“No – GOD! Please turn off our televisions – please don’t watch!” I cried in distress.

I had my eyes closed as the camera zoomed out, to get my fully in the frame again. Then Afzal placed two large fingers at the entrance of my cunt, slowly inserting them into the unprepared cunt. The look on the my face was priceless: My big black eyes popped wide open, my jaw open in stunned shock, my face an expression of despair as I was finger-raped in front of millions.

No matter how much I pleaded, I knew deep inside that whatever happened to me today would be seen by millions – or even tens of millions – of people. That sex-starved husbands and wives would record my torment on their recorders, tech junkies would upload video files of my violation to hundreds of Internet sites for horny teenagers to jack-off to, slimy old creeps would masturbate to my sexual miseries, and assholes in general would just watch my getting raped for fun, because that’s what assholes did.

Afzal’s thick fingers slid in and out of my tight cunt, slowly at first, but then faster and faster. As his pace increased, so did my panting and moaning, much to my chagrin. Soon the big black man’s two digits were fucking me at a blistering pace. On televisions across the country, especially on larger screens fifty inches and higher, viewers could tell that my sweet cunt was getting increasingly wetter and aroused.

“Unnnnh! Unnnnh! Nooooo…” I whimpered as a large bead of cunt-juice trickled out of my sweltering slit, dripping down onto Afzal’s lap.

“Ahhh – sweet fuck!” Afzal murmured back in reply. He loved my pussy – so sizzling and tight, frothy and creamy – as his fingers twirled and rammed into my without mercy. The way I squirmed and fidgeted in his lap, full of shame and humiliation, was incredibly hot.

“Noooo – no – no – no – nooooo…” I continued to groan.

The heat of the moment was getting to me, building with each twirl of Afzal’s fingers, threatening to overcome me. It was important to me that I didn’t cum; I didn’t want to appear as if I was enjoying what was happening to me. And I couldn’t bear the idea of strangers watching my orgasm!

I bit my bottom lip, staring into the camera and looking absolutely cute and sexy, trying my hardest to ignore the blistering heat emanating from my hot-box. “S-STOP THAT!!” I cried out. “GOD – PLEASE – NO MORE!!”

But Afzal was relentless and unyielding with his thick fingers, stirring up my sensitive vaginal insides. His fingers were persistent and ruthless, until he got the heat rising throughout my body to a boiling point. My fair skin began to turn red, my cheeks flushing a deep scarlet against my will. I writhed on the man’s lap, trying to stop the inevitable, but it was no use.

Still, it caught me by surprise, as an intense wave of pleasure coursed through my frame. I tensed my slim body with my back arched, my mouth open wide, as I experienced a sweet orgasm. It had been a while since I had had sex – months in fact – and all those long work hours and stressful days poured out of the girl.

I screamed and let it all out. “AHHHHHHHHHHH!! OH MY GOD!! FUCK – FUCK – FUCK!!”

Momentarily forgetting the camera before her, I had a small smile on my lips, as I unconsciously ground my pelvis against Afzal’s fingers. I was a gusher, and three or four torrid gushes of scorching cum spurted out at the camera, nearly hitting the lens, causing most of the men in the room to hoot out in surprise and amusement. I spent another minute or so undulating my hips, fucking Afzal’s fingers as opposed to the other way around. With my eyes closed, and my slender, big-titted frame still shuddering from the aftershocks, I enjoyed the orgasm until I opened my eyes and remembered where I was.

“Oh God – on my fucking God!” I wailed out in despair, stopping myself, and realizing how slutty I must have appeared.

“Now – now, Miss Deepti! Mind your fucking language!” said Afzal, laughing. Then he withdrew his sopping wet fingers – coated with my cum – out of my cunt and raised them near my mouth. “C’mon – taste our sweet little cunny juices, you slut!”

Utterly repulsed and mortified, I shook my head vigorously, very cognizant of the camera lens next to my face for a close-up of this latest degradation. “NO!”

Afzal leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “Bitch – you’re gonna listen to what I say, and lick my fingers, you understand!? Then you’re gonna suck me and fuck me! Got that? If you don’t, then I’ll just go straight to that tiny asshole of yours and tear it up with my big cock!”

I grimaced at the thought of Afzal’s monster dick sodomizing me, terrified. It dawned on my then that I was completely helpless. No one going to save me – the prison guards couldn’t get into this room, and the police were probably outside the prison and were of no use. I was all alone, and I was going to get raped, badly. I had done my homework on Afzal Pathan, and I knew what he did to young women such as myself. The fact that he had spent the past year in prison meant that he was horny as hell, and there was no doubt in my mind that I would be on the receiving end of his lust.

I could feel Afzal’s lust – now – as well. It was thick and hard, huge and long, underneath me as I sat on the prisoner’s lap. I had heard the tales and read the reports, but now I was feeling how tremendous Afzal’s manhood was in real life. The cock’s pulsing heat and pressure – straining at the prison uniform Afzal was wearing – felt threatening to the young woman like me. To have that monster shaft shoved up my ass was literally inconceivable for me, and so I nodded my head quickly and submissively. I could do this – do whatever the horrid man wanted. Deepti Singh could be Afzal’s perfect slut – even if it meant demeaning myself on national television, because I realized that I had no other choice!

So I leaned forward and took Afzal’s fingers into my mouth, slurping and licking away with my nimble tongue. At first my movements were quick and nervous, but Afzal soon provided me with explicit instructions, and I obediently followed them.

“Mmmm – that’s right! Suck slowly – hard! Put those digits all the way into your mouth – pretend it’s a dick! Oh yeah – you so sexy, baby! That’s real good! Uh-huh – lick those fingers up and down, like a good little pussycat! Yeah – that’s good! Remember this when you’re sucking my cock, Deepti!”

All of a sudden Afzal took his fingers out of my mouth, cupped my neck, and brought my in for a kiss. He kissed me tremendously deep, his large tongue stuck inside my mouth, swirling against my own tongue, chocking and blocking my small throat. While I moaned in response, powerless to do anything else, I could feel the camera recording them while we swapped saliva.

Meanwhile, Afzal’s hands returned to roam around my delectable body. One hand was pinching my nipples while the other one had snuck back in between my legs, stroking my cunt lips and clitoris. My moans, in response, grew louder and louder. Then the prisoner attacked my tits with his mouth, bringing his lips down to the lovely already tender nipples, loudly sucking away and smacking his lips together, showing off for the camera. The man chewed my nipples incessantly, mercilessly. He alternated from creating suction around my pink areolas with his big lips – clamping down airtight – then sucking as hard as he could, or by firmly holding my erect strawberry buds in his teeth, and then licking away as fast as he could with his rasping tongue.

When the hulking black man returned to my slippery pussy and shoved some fingers into it, I was already close to coming once more. Afzal was grinning psychotically, totally lost in his debauched quest to totally defile me. He loved the way he could make me squeal from his harsh administrations, and as my squeals and mews grew in loudness, he knew it was nearly time to truly introduce to the audience watching at home

As he continued to finger My frothy slit, Afzal’s free hand reached underneath her, fumbling at his zipper. It took a few moments but eventually he managed to pull his erect cock out from his pants. His eleven-inch circumcised cock stuck straight up in front of me, blocking my pussy from the view of the camera, huge and menacing. The whole room actually went silent just then: the big black monster looked obscenely large next to me, its menacing darkness contrasting against my fair skin.

I spoke out at that moment, breaking the silence. “No – no – that can’t be – that’s fucking enormous!”

“Ha ha ha! That’s my dick! My dick! How do you do!” said Afzal, laughing, proudly showing off his huge cock. Then he grabbed his cock and began to slap it against my cunt. “Or maybe I should say, ‘Hello, Deepti! How do you do?'”

“S-STOP THAT!” I replied back in shock, trying to squirm away from the monster.

The look on my face was unforgettable. I looked back at him with alarm in my eyes – his cock was unbelievable! Afzal winked back at me like an asshole. It was incomprehensible to me – there was no way that would fit inside of me!

Through all of this Afzal hadn’t stopped finger-fucking the young woman. But he made me grab his erection and explore it, so that he could fully concentrate on my cunt.

“That’s a good girl – stroke that shaft! You can grip harder than that – OH – yeah, that’s right, just like that, bitch!” instructed the prisoner.

I did as I was told, running my hands up and down Afzal’s cock, feeling it’s heaviness and heft between my tiny fingers. It pulsated menacingly in my hands, and as I stroked the shaft – feeling its smooth skin outlined with ridges of broad veins – the iron hardness underneath made my incredibly nervous and afraid.

But soon my fear gave way to another orgasm welling from within my stirred up wet cunt. Afzal’s constant fingers up my cunt, ramming in and out without pause, was going to give me my second orgasm of the day. I couldn’t recall ever having two orgasms in a row, but now it was coming. My eyebrows furrowed together, a look of stunned disbelief on my pretty face, but also something else: there was a hint of unfairness within my eyes, as if I were wondering how could this happen to me? I was once the golden child in the news industry, but now? She’d be lucky to survive today with a job in the mailroom after this.

“Are you gonna cum, sugar?” asked Afzal, breaking my reverie.

I couldn’t speak since I was – indeed – experiencing a shattering orgasm just as Afzal spoke. Gritting my teeth and closing my eyes, my entire body became rigid in Afzal’s arms, lost in my own world. So I didn’t notice when Afzal picked me up and positioned my over his dick – cock-head at my slick vaginal opening – dumping me unceremoniously onto it.

I shrieked out, my body rebelling against this entirely outrageous act. My pulsating cunt clenched tightly around Afzal’s big dick, trying in vain from slowly inching down it, but failing miserably. Afzal didn’t have to do a thing – gravity did all the work for him. All he needed to do was sit back and watch as I struggled – my wrists tied behind my back – and then slide down his fuck-stick.

“UNNNNNNNGGGGG!! OH FUCK – FUCK – FUCK!!”

Inch by excruciating inch, I became impaled on that thick black cock, as my television audience watched in lurid fascination. It looked impossible that such a colossal cock could fit inside my tiny cunt, but there I was – slowly getting skewered – squealing out in agony as my slender body contorted and strained against being awfully invaded. This was indeed must see TV!

It indeed felt as if I were getting split in half. Afzal’s dick was unimaginably large, but somehow my tightness gave way to him, and inevitably my pussy lips reached its base, somehow going all the way down. I shook my head in disbelief, my eyes glazed over in lust, eyes darting down at my cunt in wonder, and then back to the camera lens in horror. People had just witnessed me getting a huge cock jammed up my tight cunt!

“Oh fuck yeah! Nothing like fresh young pussy!” said the grinning prisoner.

And then the real fun began. Afzal lifted me up with his hands as if I weighed nothing, and then dropped my down again. This caused me to let out a loud squeal. But the huge prisoner didn’t stop, raising me up and down his cock, fucking me over and over. My pussy was incredibly tight – but he liked that even better. Soon he had a good rhythm built up with his the palms of his hands, cupping my sweet ass-cheeks and gripping them to drive me up and down his dick.

All across the country, people were glued to their television sets. They watched in astonishment as I was getting raped on live television, thoroughly and unforgivably. There were no commercial breaks, just ongoing footage of the gorgeous reporter as I bounced on Afzal’s big dick. Somehow I had taken the man’s monstrously large, infamous prick up my small pussy. Somehow the reporter was taking the sexual torment, enduring the scorching fucking, and – from the looks of it – was actually enjoying it. Or at least my convulsing, cumming fuck-hole seemed to be; dripping wet and spraying out my love-juices, it was clear to the viewers that I was having my third orgasm, so soon after my last one.

“OH GOD – OH GOD!! NO MORE!! PLEASE – NO – NO MORE!!” I implored.

“Mmmmm – mmmmm! Viewers at home – you wouldn’t believe how nice and tight Miss Deepti’s pussy is!” Afzal bragged, looking into the camera with a horny smile on his face. “I think it deserves some hard dick-pounding to loosen it up!”

Afzal picked me up as he casually got off the chair, before setting me back onto the chair with my ass-cheeks on the edge of the seat, facing the camera with my legs spread wide open. I was looking back with a horny yet completely miserable expression on my pretty face. Then the prisoner – hooking the backside of my knees on his elbows – plowed into my cunt with his monstrous cock with one hard thrust, the viewers getting a really good view of this action.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” I cried out, beside myself.

The man mercilessly fucked me long and hard in this position, for what seemed like an eternity to me. The chair they were one was one of those cheap folding metal chairs, and it creaked and bent underneath our rigorous fucking. All I could manage to do was clutch onto the chair and hang on, screaming out the entire time. My pussy was a sloppy mess for the television audience, but they could also hear every carnal noise as well: from the creaking chair, to the wet squelching sounds coming from my slit, and even the faint slap of Afzal’s flailing balls as they smacked into me with each hard down-stroke of cock.

At times the cameraman went in for a close-up of that hard dick action, knowing that Afzal’s gigantic cock would look amazing on large screen HD screens spearing my cunt. Other times he’d zoom out, having both of them in the frame and showing off their frantic coupling to good effect. And every now and then the cameraman would get close to my face, just to see how eleven inches of dick felt like, the aching expression written clearly all over my face.

But Afzal was only human, and hadn’t had sex with a woman for about a year. His normal sexual constitution wasn’t lasting as long as he wanted it to, and he could feel the desperate need for release in his testicles. It didn’t surprise him since I looked so sultry underneath him, taking every inch of the cock he gave my – squealing and mewling out uncontrollably – my stunning body squirming and contorting from their torrid union.

“OH BITCH!! I’m gonna CUM!!” the prisoner gasped out, his breath ragged. His hips had sped up, and he was somehow fucking me even faster than a moment ago.

“AAAHHH!! NOOOOO!! OHGAWD!! PLEASE DON’T CUM INSIDE ME!!” I protested, my cute baby eyes wide as saucers.

Afzal only chuckled at me and continued to ram my with his dick until he felt the jizz deep within his balls churn and boil. He jammed his cock deep inside my womb and stayed there, grunting out loudly as he began to spurt out his load of cock-juice.

“OH FUCK – YEAH – FUCK – YEAH – FUCK – UNNHHH!! TAKE THAT, YOU BITCH!!” Afzal yelled out.

“UNNNNNNHHHHHH!!! AHHHHHH!! NOOOOOOOO!!” I replied in anguish.

I could feel load after load of gushing cum spraying deep inside my womb, coating my vaginal walls, defiling me in front of millions of viewers. I felt unimaginably ashamed as he ejaculated inside of me, in public, and in front of a camera. The prisoner tensed for a few moments more, moaning in ecstasy, before he began to pump his shaft in and out of my cunt again, pushing out his white hot spunk violently. The more he did this the more cum spewed out of my little cunt, spraying out and dribbling down the crack of my ass and then onto the seat below.

I was wide-eyed and stunned because from my angle when I looked at Afzal’s cock fucking me slowly, I could see the lens of the camera behind him, getting a really good view of the dick action and my face as well. I realized it was one of those awful porn camera angles, and was completely embarrassed, closing my eyes to try and shut out the distressing thoughts in my mind.

But Afzal wasn’t finished yet with me. His dick was still rock hard and he was pumping it in and out of my creamy, cum-filled cunt for a reason. Once his cock was nicely coated with sticky semen, he pulled out of me and turned standing sideways, with his profile to the camera. This way his erect member could be seen jutting out and the audience at home could get a real good look at how long he was. Still sitting on the metal chair in a daze, I looked up at the man with a puzzled expression.

Afzal pointed at his dick, dripping with cock-juices. “Get that gorgeous little mouth of yours over here and clean me up!” he ordered.

I hesitated for a moment, fear and embarrassment all over my face, before I nodded to the man. I had already gone this far, I figured, and there was still that threat he made to my about taking my asshole, which was the last thing I wanted! So I picked myself up and dropped to my knees, unconsciously licking my lips. Gazing at the huge prick before her, I wrapped my ruby red lips around Afzal’s shaft and began to slurp up the man’s jizz.

“That’s right – show me what a bitch in heat you are!” said the prisoner in amusement, quivering in pleasure at my talented oral efforts. “Ohhh – fuck! Lick off that nasty cum – slurp it all up into that nasty little mouth of yours! Shit – where’d you learn to suck dick like that!? Damn, you’re good!”

It felt so wrong – so illicit – to perform this indecent act, in front of so many people. Afzal’s cock was so immense and hard against my lithe tongue, and I could feel the heat and power of it as I licked and gobbled him up between my luscious lips. I tried to ignore Afzal’s scathing words as well as the camera just inches away from my face, but it was nearly impossible to do so. Trying to concentrate on my blowjob, I sucked up as much gooey cum as I could until I had a good mouthful. I looked up at Afzal to show that I was obediently fulfilling my part of the bargain.

“Fuck – that’s beautiful!” mumbled Afzal. Placing a hand on me head to twist my so that I was facing the camera directly, and then said, “Open up that pretty little mouth of yours! Show the viewers at home what a nasty slut you are! That’s right – show them that mouthful of filthy cum!”

What else could I do but comply with the man’s orders? I opened my mouth wide, shame-faced, so that the cameraman could get a very clear shot of all the white gooey cock-juice in my mouth.

“Ohhhh – nice! Be a good girl – gargle that cum! That’s right – look at you gargle all that bubbly cum, bitch! Oh yeah!”

I instantly obeyed the perverted prisoner, and gargled the bubbly semen in my mouth even as some of it escaped down the corners of my mouth. I couldn’t bear to stare into the camera, and made the mistake of looking at the monitor at the back, only to see a close-up of my pretty face. It was shocking to see how slutty I looked! I quickly turned my gaze to the camera, unable to watch myself anymore.

“Fucking beautiful! Now swallow that nasty cum!” Afzal said maliciously, licking his lips. His right hand was now pumping his still-erect dick, getting ready for round two; he’d been in jail for a year and sure wasn’t going to fuck this total babe only once!

I hesitated for a tiny moment before closing my eyes and gulping down the nasty fluid. It tasted bitter and vile to me, and ingesting it wasn’t much better since the sperm seemed to take clog up my throat and took forever to get down to my stomach. Once it did, I could breathe again, but the stench of semen still seemed so powerful and clung in my mouth, every breath a reeking reminder of my depraved oral deeds.

When I opened my eyes I received a nasty surprise – a cock slapping against my face! I cried out but knew I couldn’t stop the man, so I silently took the punishment. Again and again the prisoner slapped his sex sausage against my face, leaving marks of wetness on my cheeks wherever his dick had slapped her, as I tried not to flinch from the lewd contact.

Then the man twirled the bulbous tip of his cock against my lips, sticking it in only an inch or so, making my kiss and lick it for the camera. He raked the round cock-head against my white teeth, then had me swirl my lithe tongue and played with that for a bit, before rubbing it against my sweet, lush lips once more. It wasn’t long before Afzal was probing further and further into my lusciously hot mouth with his lustful cock, spearing my between the lips lasciviously. I had such beautiful lips that the man couldn’t help himself, digging deeper and deeper to drown out me guttural groans of despair.

This led to deeper mouthfuls of cock, until Afzal had buried as much of his eleven-inch shaft as he could down my throat. The man was mercilessly pumping his hips back and forth, driving his cock – so obscenely massive and black in contrast to my pale skin – down my throat. He was able to stab over half of his dick into me, which he thought was pretty good for a stuck up little bitch like me. Once he got to this point, Afzal held onto my ponytail and began to brutally fuck my throat.

“Oh FUCK YEAH! Take that, you slut!” grunted the prisoner.

He didn’t hold back, and soon I was struggling for breath, coughing up spit and choking on Afzal’s chocolaty treat. I moaned loudly, and emitted deep pleading mewls that I hoped Afzal would pick up on, and give my some rest periods between gagging on cock. But Afzal didn’t care – he just continued to throat-fuck me until my jaws ached, sticky streams of saliva spilled down my chin to the floor, my mouth totally ravaged. Afzal did take his dick out of my mouth now and then, but this was rather infrequent, and he only did so to marvel at the ropey strings of spit that connected his pole to my mouth. Then he quickly stabbed his cock between my lips as I tried to gulp in as much air as I could, before gagging on the man’s dick once more.

What Afzal was doing to me was so lewd and crude that it sent him over the edge – much quicker than he anticipated. But I was too damn gorgeous, and the way I let him defile me was too much for the big black man. Much to my dismay Afzal accelerated his fucking, the lurid sounds of his vast stiffy stirring inside My mouth only amplifying his desire. Then he grunted loudly, pushing my head towards his groin, holding my there as I struggled against my muscular tormentor.

I had about 7 inches of Afzal’s dick stuffed down between my lips when the man began to spew out his awful cock-juice, cumming with just as much ejaculate as the first time, to everyone’s surprise. Thick loads of boiling semen spewed down my throat, straight down into my belly, as I desperately tried to consume it all, gulping away to avoid drowning in cum. It was nasty, filthy work, and the worst thing was I didn’t succeed at drinking it all; the immense volume of semen gushing into my mouth was too much for me to handle, and jizz began to spill back out of my mouth uncontrollably. Most deplorable was that there was no way for me to breathe; semen choked my air-pipe, with the end result of the nasty white fluid coming out of my nostrils.

I was literally choking on cum! I panicked and let out some muffled screams, but to no avail. Only when Afzal was satisfied did he withdraw from my mouth, I then began to cough out all sperm I wasn’t able to eat. I looked up at Afzal with hate in my eyes, wiping my nose and mouth even as I gasped in ragged breaths of air.

After a few minutes I was finally able to speak again. “Y-you FUCKER!” I snarled.

Afzal just laughed cruelly. “Didn’t I saw I was a natural born fucker? Let me show you again, Miss Deepti!”

Then the big prisoner picked me up off the floor. I whimpered softly and couldn’t stop staring at the man’s still huge, still hard penis, wondering why it wasn’t soft by now. Hadn’t my ordeal been enough already? Why wasn’t the man satiated? Then Afzal pulled down the skirt that was still bunched around my waist, the only piece of clothing left on my besides my five inch shoes. I let him do what he wanted, which was to fully display my nude form for the viewers at home.

“Mmmmm-mmmmm! Damn! Look at that sweet luscious body!” said Afzal, a large grin on his face. As the cameraman stepped back to place my entire body in the shot, Afzal began to slap and pinch my nipples. Then he said, “Turn around, slut, and show your beautiful ass!”

I frowned and bit my lip cutely, but did as I was told. I really did have a really breathtaking ass; it was heart-shaped and tight, with just the right amount of jiggle. Afzal slapped an ass-cheek to show off this fact, and my flesh rippled delightfully before the camera. My legs were just as nice from this view – impossibly long and slender, they completed my sexy package off, especially with my five inch white heels on.

“Hmmm – something’s not right,” pondered Afzal. He snapped his fingers and unfastened the clasp for My ponytail. Now my long, luxurious platinum black locks cascaded down my back, appealingly wavy and reaching nearly to my tight ass. “Oh yeah – that did it!”

Now that I was presented just right for the viewers at watching home, Afzal could continue his degradation of me. He carried on slapping my ass until I was squealing out from the awful sensation. Then Afzal delved deeper between my sweet ass-crack, marveling at my soft feminine flesh, as well as my two most intimate hles that he now had control over. With some fingers stroking my pussy, the prisoner placed his thumb over my asshole and began to play with that as well.

Still standing upright, I turned my head abruptly as I felt Afzal’s insensitive thumb probe my anus. “N-NO! Stop that!”

This only made Afzal snigger, but he did stop. He looked into the camera lens and said, “Damn! I wish you viewers at home could feel what I’m feeling!” Then the prisoner waved at the cameraman to move nearer. “Come closer! That’s right!”

Television viewers at home now had an incredible close-up view of the ass of Deepti Singh. It was glorious perfection in shape, curvature and form, as well as in terms of silky, unblemished pale skin.

“Bend over and spread your sweet little butt for your fans, Miss Deepti!” ordered Afzal mockingly.

Looking over at my tormentor in disgust and dread, I bit back any angry retorts since I knew it would be useless. Everyone had already seen me totally naked, fucking and sucking, after all. Whatever pride I had left was slowly being shredded and ripped apart by Afzal Pathan; I used to be the bitch who fucked over others, but now I was the bitch who was getting fucked. I wondered if some of my enemies were enjoying themselves with my ordeal, and then figured that yes, they probably were.

So I bent over lewdly, my legs apart and hands on my knees, to expose my dazzling rear end at the camera. I looked up at Afzal to see if this was what he wanted.

“Use your hands and spread those cheeks, darling!” said Afzal spitefully.

Sighing, I reached both hands behind me and grabbed my tight ass-cheeks, then pulled them apart so that my two holes were clearly visible. I knew everyone could see me, fully exposed, every revealing curve of illicit flesh on display. From this angle my pussy – abused and dripping with cum – still looked quite delicious and tempting, but what the cameraman focused on was the my tiny rosebud asshole, so alluring and inviting, begging to be defiled. Approximately twenty-two thousand males watching the broadcast at the time blew their wads on this shot alone.

“Awww – fuck yeah! That’s fucking gorgeous – fucking fantastic piece of ass!” growled the black prisoner.

Then Afzal’s big black erection crept into the frame of the camera like a monstrous missile soaring towards its target, large and lewd next to my tender flesh. The man began to lecherously slap me with it, the large piece of hard man-meat smacking loudly against my ass and actually causing faint red marks against my delicate skin. Then, with one hand kneading and fondling my ass, his other hand directed his huge prick towards my ass-crack, running it up and down my wet slit, making me moan out at the contact.

“Oh God,” I moaned. He was going to stick it inside me again!

With the camera up close and personal, the tip of Afzal’s bulbous dick ever so slowly penetrated My cunt, the audience at home watching wide-eyed as the huge torpedo parted my pussy lips and could almost feeling the pressure and force of it themselves, what with the picture being so clear and vivid. And although they couldn’t see my face, they could still hear me panting and groaning with passions off-screen. Afzal poked his cock all the way up my tight slit, until he was balls deep, and it was a scandalously wicked sight for viewers.

“Oh fuck, bitch! You have one of the tightest and hottest pussies I’ve ever fucked!” groaned the big black prisoner.

I just moaned back, full of cock and the knowledge that I was Afzal’s slut once more. Then Afzal pulled his dick out, to show the audience my gaping, empty cunt, quivering and twitching from the strain. He quickly plunged all the way back in, making me wail out in reaction. This went on for a bit – Afzal playfully sticking his prick in and out of my – before he began to truly fuck me hard.

With his large hands wrapped around my slim waist, Afzal fucked me hard and fast, much to my chagrin. His full eleven inches crammed into me, churning my inside and out, with each impact against my tight ass creating delightful ripples for the home viewers.

SLAP!! SLAP!! SLAP!! SLAP!! SLAP!! SLAP!! SLAP!! SLAP!! SLAP!! SLAP!!

Pretty soon I was grunting and wailing along with each hard thrust of Afzal’s fuck-stick, to the point where I could barely stand. I had to cling to the back of the chair for support, before eventually having to put a knee on the chair since my legs were giving out on me. And Afzal still wouldn’t stop. His fucked me in a frenzy, without pause or mercy, until I was squealing out shrilly at my suffering.

After ten minutes of harsh doggy-style fucking, I could barely think straight. I now had both knees on the seat of the metal chair – my ass sticking up – with my hands clinging to the back of the chair. Instead of fucking my from behind, Afzal was practically on top of me, his dick still pumping My vagina, only that he had better access to play with my huge tits, which he did so without hesitation. He held onto my shoulders, or sometimes my hair, and wouldn’t stop with his torrid pace.

Meanwhile, my eyes were glazed over from the rawness of our sex. I had already come about a minute ago – a high-pitched, pussy-churning, cum-spewing orgasm – and was about to have another. It was because the only thing in my world at that moment was Afzal’s thick cock fucking me that I failed to realize he was speaking to me.

“WHO’S THE BITCH IN HEAT!? C’mon – SAY IT! You want it, bitch, don’t you!? You want this big fat cock stuffed up your little pussy!! Say you want it!!” snarled the large man as he vigorously stuffed the girl with his cock.

He kept on yelling at me in this fashion, over and over, until I couldn’t take it anymore. I burst out, “YEAH!! FUCK YES AFZAL! UNGH!! I’M A BITCH IN HEAT!! FUCK ME MORE!! UNGH!! FUCK ME HARDER AFZAL! HARDER! UNGH!! YEAH – JUST LIKE THAT! UNGH!! DEFILE ME AFZAL!! FILL MY LITTLE CUNT UP WITH YOUR GIANT COCK!! UNGH!! I’M YOUR SLUT!! YES AFZAL!! YES!! YES!! YES!!”

It was quite a surprise for the television audience as they watched me turn seemingly into a slut-whore. When he pulled his dick out and offered it to my face – still behind and above me – I simply turned my head and began to lick and slurp at the dripping cock enthusiastically, but really my only thoughts were to make sure that the sadistic man came as soon as possible. I didn’t think I could take his sexual onslaught any longer.

“Unngh – yeah! That’s right, darling, chew on that big bone! Fuck – that’s nasty, yeah, lick the tip! Ohhh – suck it, yeah, take it deep down your throat! Good girl, that’s a good little bitch!”

The man’s thick cock was disgustingly slick and frothy. I could taste Afzal’s salty semen mixed in with my own tangy pussy-juices, but I tried not to dwell on these details. Instead, I tried to be the eager and willing slut that Afzal wanted. I sucked, licked, chewed on his boner until he had to pull away from her.

“Fuck – I like this Deepti Singh,” Afzal laughed, smacking his cock on my ass.

He got out from over my and walked over to the back of the chair so that his cock jutted straight into my face. I willingly accepted his dick and didn’t resist his ruthless throat-fucking as I had earlier. The cameraman had now changed positions so that he framed me in profile, taking three-quarters of Afzal’s hard man-meat jamming down my throat. Bubbly, stringy saliva trickled down my chin, and viewers could see my throat bulge from the Muslim man’s callous abuse of my mouth, but I eagerly allowed him to do whatever he pleased.

When Afzal decided to position himself behind my once more, I cooed out in a sensual voice, “You want to fuck my little pussy again? You want to stick your fucking huge cock inside me?”

The prisoner grinned in lust. “Oh yeah – you fucking sexy little bitch!”

With one hard thrust the man was all the way up my little cunt, and was soon fucking my hard and raw again. All the time it was now I who was teasing the man along, begging Afzal to cum, and to fill my up with his nasty cum. However, Afzal – who had already cum twice and knew he could last a little bit longer – was taking much longer than I expected. The man went back and forth between my mouth and pussy repeatedly, and wasn’t even close to cumming, much to my dismay.

“Oh FUCK! You’re cock – UNGH – is so big!! UNGH!! Don’t you – UNGH – want to – UNGH – cum in my sweet little pussy!?” I cried out, nearly undone, wondering why my new approach wasn’t working. My twitching cunt was about to explode, and I knew just a few more thick strokes would net me a tremendous orgasm.

Afzal pulled his dick out unexpectedly. Next he placed his bulbous dick-head against my tiny asshole. He grunted, “Actually – I want to cum in your sweet little ass!” The rest of the prisoners in the room hooted out cheerfully, while the guards and my colleagues all turned their heads away, red-faced. “So – am I the first man to take your anal cherry?”

Deepti trembled, staring back at my rapist, stunned and distressed. “N-NO! I’ve never had anal sex before! You – you said you would leave my ass alone! You promised!”

“Damn, Miss Deepti – I guess that’s why I’m in prison! Because I’m a bad man!” Afzal chuckled, holding onto me as he pierced my asshole in one atrocious thrust, managing to get halfway in before my asshole clamped down tight on his dick.

At that moment, my cunt went into spastic overdrive, cumming hard at the anal intrusion. My sensitive rear end – which I had never, ever let my previous lovers even touch before – was now full of big, black circumcised cock. My sweltering cunny – so close to the edge already – was now convulsing intensely, spattering me sweet honey-juices all over my inner thighs and down onto the chair below. My entire body tensed for a long while, before I began to shake and shudder all over, uncontrollably. My fingers clutched the back of the chair, screaming out at the agony and ecstasy I was feeling.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

I forgot about the cameraman filming me and the television audience. I forgot about the sixteen other men in the room, and forgot where I was at the moment. The only thing in that mattered to my at that moment was that huge spear in my asshole, slowly penetrating my anal depths, going deeper and deeper, and then wondering if the sweet torture would ever end. And even though I felt like I was being split open, even though Afzal’s huge cock was stretching my asshole to its limits, and even though this was the most demeaning thing that had ever been done to me – in public no less – my body was somehow receiving incredible pleasure from my humiliation.

And Afzal seemed to sense this, and – being the asshole he was – he took advantage of this fact. “Turn you face so I can you see you, slut!” ordered the large prisoner. He knew that the cameraman was behind him getting a good view of his dick invading my asshole, but he wanted the world to also see my facial expressions.

She did as I was told, albeit a little sluggishly, since I was still getting used to the man’s mammoth erection up my anal-cavity. I turned my head around to look over my shoulder, locking gazes with Afzal, my pleading eyes glazed over in lust. Afzal swung his hips back and forth, continuing his bid to completely skewer the young reporter. He needed to bury all eleven inches of his manhood deep within my bowels.

“Damn, that’s tight!” Afzal exclaimed loudly.

It wasn’t easy – my tight ass clenched his thick dick so hard that it became an excruciating struggle between the two of them. But Afzal held onto me with an iron grip, winning the battle as his cock reached a place no man had ever been before. And I looked incredibly stunning as he did so, his fuck-pole going deeper inch by delicious inch, as I faced the camera; even though I was slick with sweat and my hair was a mess, I had never looked as gorgeous then during that moment, getting sodomized on live TV. The struggle could clearly be seen on my face: the strain, the distress, and the effort that my anal rapist was exerting on me. But there was also sensual rapture there, an erotic, lust-filled glaze in my eyes that showed perhaps – somehow – I was enjoying the anal torment as well.

And then the moment was over. Afzal had paused; somehow he had managed to stick his thick eleven incher up my anus – to the hilt and balls deep. For a second it seemed that even he couldn’t believe it. All viewers watching at home gasped in astonishment as I looked back, my baby eyes opened wide, and my mouth in a cute “o” shape. However, no one could tell really what the expression on my face was conveying exactly. Was it anger? Shame? Agony? Desire? Despair? No one really knew – not even myself – but it appeared to be a mixture of all those things.

“Big – fucking – black – cock – soooo – deep in – my – ass!” I managed to sputter out then, spittle drooling down my lips, looking directly into the camera as if reporting on the incident (the incident being that Deepti Singh had just been royally ass-fucked by serial rapist extraordinaire Afzal Pathan!).

But then – wriggling my cute butt – I began to slowly get accustomed to the huge, swollen piece of man-meat had lodged itself deep within my anal-tunnel, and felt that perhaps it didn’t feel entirely bad. It had made me cum really hard after all, and even now it was making other parts of my tingle that I had never felt before. For a moment I thought I could get used to this – this monstrosity up my ass – but then Afzal ruined that magical moment by pulling his dick out of me. Now all I felt was ass-churning madness.

I screeched out in alarm, feeling eleven inches sliding out of my anus all at once. “AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

The bastard had withdrawn his cock entirely, leaving my anal-sphincter a gaping, twitching hole that the audience could nearly see into. And then Afzal rammed his massive fuck-stick back into that scorching, inviting hell-hole in one smooth motion, causing me to squeal like a stuck pig.

What followed next was the complete and utter deflowering of my once-virgin asshole. Afzal buggered me mercilessly. He plowed my rectum with his huge cock hard and fast, repeatedly and without pity. All Deepti could do in return was hold onto the chair and grunt, whimper, and squeal away as I was anally ravished. Viewers could see the power behind the big black prisoner as he slammed into me, the rippling of my ass-cheek, and the bouncing around of my huge tits testifying to his strength. The rattling, squeaking metal chair threatened to break underneath the pair, and the room echoed with my cries of lost in the throes of depravity.

I had to endure ten more minutes of this hard anal-sex without pause, suffering through this misery by having two more wicked orgasms of my own. Those two orgasms didn’t help matters much for me. I was, unfortunately, on the receiving end of a year’s worth of imprisonment – three hundred and ninety-two days of confinement to be exact; Afzal Pathan’s life was that of monotony and of being surrounded by males. He had no conjugal visits, or internet porn, or nudie magazines. All he had were frustratingly long nights of masturbation. But now? Now he poured all that anger and lust and hunger that was deep inside of him into me. He was channeling all those emotions into his cock, and he used his cock to pummel me.

But all good (or bad) things must come to an end. Afzal could feel the nasty scum nearly bursting from within his sweaty testicles – the need to orgasm building urgently and fervently. He quickened his speed, balls slapping against my cunt at a feverish pace, then buried his dick as deep within my anus as he could while his cock started to spew out scorching ejaculate. In return, I squealed out loudly and came as well, the nasty sensation of boiling cum flooding my deepest bowels feeling much too depraved to be unanswered.

Viewers at home – wide eyed and incredibly turned on by what they were watching – wondering if I had really received an anal cream pie. We had both stopped moving, our strained bodies – gleaming with sweat and sex-juices from rutting like filthy animals – were racked with spasms of pleasure. Afzal still had me pinned down with his dick like a lewd “pin the tail on the donkey’ game in this position, but after a minute or so time seemed to return to normal for us. Gasping for breath after his glorious orgasm, the big prisoner began to slowly pump his cock in and out of me so that the cameraman could zoom in on all the white hot semen spilling out of my anal-opening.

It was a lewd sight, but it wasn’t something that was unexpected coming from the malicious prisoner. He loved churning my sweet little asshole with his cock, and wanted to show the world all of cock-juice he shot into me. So decided to slide it inside of my for a while longer, making all that gooey semen gush out and then trail down my inner thighs.

When Afzal was finally and fully satisfied, he withdrew completely out of my ass-cavity and gave it one last smack with his hand for good measure. I gave a sigh of relief, but then frowned in despair again when Afzal stepped in front of me, proudly displaying his cum-stained, sopping dick – still half-erect – for me to clean up. Hesitating, I looked up at the prisoner with pleading eyes, but already knew that he would not relent. I leaned forward, hands clutching the back of the chair girlishly, to lap at the man’s drenched shaft with my nimble tongue, trying to suck up all the dripping semen first before going back to the stickier semen that clung to his dick.

I sucked away, knowing that since the cameraman had snuck in for a close-up, the audience watching could see and hear every vivid detail, from the lurid slurping and smacking sounds I was making with my mouth, to the vulgar nibbling and kissing with my pert lips, and lastly to my lasciviously winding and twirling tongue, just to ensure that that every inch of Afzal Pathan’s cock was shiny clean. It was all so perverse, so naughty, and so very humiliating.

Of course a closer view of my mouth full of cum was needed, and of course I was ordered to swallow that vile, creamy concoction. But I dutifully performed the degrading act, gulping loudly for the camera, mortified but obedient. Licking my lips, I was devastatingly crushed by my naughty deeds, and as the cameraman back away, I thought that my humiliation was at last over.

What I didn’t notice was the line of men forming behind me that everyone at home could see. These were the nine other prisoners in the room, wide grins on their faces as they were finally going to get a piece of me as well. What viewers in their living rooms couldn’t see were the guards and my two co-workers – tied up and sitting on the floor – as they watched in horror as the prisoners began to unzip their pants and pulled out their big dicks.

I whipped my head around, crying out at the unfairness of it all. “WHAT!? NO – NO – AFZAL!! You can’t – can’t let these – these animals rape me! They’re going to – to gang-rape me! You said -“

“Honey, I said a lot of things. But the main thing I said was that ‘all women are just bitches in heat!’ I was trying to prove my point. But you – you’re a stubborn little cunt, I’ll give you that!” replied Afzal, watching as the first prisoner behind me stuffed his fuck-stick up my quivering cunt as I delightfully yelped out. “So I guess I’ll just have to let some of my homies to teach you this lesson!”

“OH NO – NO – NO!!” I screamed in disbelief. “I mean – I mean – YES!! I’M A BITCH IN HEAT!! YES!! I AM!! I NEED SEX!! I NEED TO GET FUCKED AND FAST!!”

Afzal laughed evilly. “You heard the bitch, boys! Do your worst!”

The huge man fucking my hard from behind leaned over closer to me and said, “Don’t worry, slut! You’ve got three holes – we’ve got ten dicks – we’ll take real good care of you, honey!”

I closed my eyes, realizing that the prisoners in the room would have their way with her, no matter what I said. A moan of despair grew increasingly loud within my throat, as my cunt was ruthlessly fucked – with the knowledge that today’s interview segment was far from over…

What followed was an excruciating five hour cluster-fuck that centered on me. All ten prisoners (including the cameraman) got to fuck my pussy from behind. Then they fucked my from the front and back, making my gag on cock even as I was furiously rammed up my cunt. They tried different positions where I was forced to straddle myself over them, still with a dick between my lips. Sometimes they’d fuck my asshole. Sometimes they traded positions repeatedly so that I would get a good taste of my pussy, or of my ass.

The ten prisoners came in whichever hole they were fucking at the time. Sometimes a cock would explode in my mouth, drowning me with sticky semen. At times the men would ejaculate in my pussy, or spill their loads deep inside me ass. This meant that I reeked of cock-juice, which clung inside all of my holes, dripped down my legs, and drooled down my pretty little chin. I had become an enthusiastic, cock-loving whore who’s only use was to drain the testicles of my rapists, who yelled out ‘yes’ over and over, as if to show Afzal Pathan he was right.

Perhaps I myself didn’t know how much I really meant with my demeaning responses – my state of disgrace, and my newfound enthusiasm – only that whenever an prisoner shoved a cock in front of me, I willingly gobbled it up between my slutty lips. Whenever someone thrust his cock deep inside my anus, I screamed out how much I loved to be fucked in there. Whenever any of the men spilled their seed, I’d readily swallow it if so offered.

The last shot of the night had me kneeling on the ground, surrounded by the last six men in a circle who still had enough juice and energy to have a hard-on. I had turned my face upwards, mouth wide open, tongue stuck out, waiting for the group of sadistic men as they rapidly jerked themselves off, their gleaming erections ready to orgasm. Even though I was drenched with sweat, long hair matted with moisture, sullied and cum-stained – I still looked incredibly gorgeous. I eagerly waited for the first man to cum and was not disappointed when he did; groaning out in pleasure, his fist was a blur over his dick as scalding white cum streamed all over my pretty face. I squealed out in delight.

This created a domino effect and soon the other five men were spraying their sticky loads onto me as well. It got all over my face: into my eyes, forehead, hair, cheeks, lips, mouth and chin. Some of the guys did manage to direct some squirts onto my tongue and into my waiting mouth, enough so that I could show the cameraman the nasty fluid and gulp it all down noisily. My cum-covered face was unrecognizable as the men finished jerking themselves off, the last drops of semen finally scattering over me.

I ran my fingers over my face to scoop up as much jizz as I could and brought them to my mouth, sucking my fingers off one by one between my luscious lips. When I managed to clear most of semen off, I was rewarded with six spongy dicks slapping my face, which made my giggle for some strange reason.

I could hear Afzal in the background, talking on the phone, telling the network that they were finished and were going to give themselves up. Through the guard’s radio they had learned that the riot had apparently ended about an hour ago, and that a contingent of nearly thirty policemen was waiting outside their door. Then I realized that everyone was looking at me to wrap things up.

I smiled prettily for the camera, which was still zoomed up close to my face. I was still kneeling on the floor and there were still six dicks smacking against my face. I ignored the cock-sausages and said, “This is Deepti Singh – reporting to you from the Jail. I – I hope you … enjoyed my interview with notorious serial rapist, Afzal Pathan … and – and his fellow prisoners. This has been a … Deepti Singh Special. Good night!”

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