A Guide to Something Wild
# Corruption by the Groove The bass pulsed like a black heart beneath the floor of The Silhouette, a converted industrial warehouse on the wrong side of the city. Sienna felt it thrum up through the soles of her strappy heels, a primal rhy
Chapter 1
The bass pulsed like a black heart beneath the floor of The Silhouette, a converted industrial warehouse on the wrong side of the city. Sienna felt it thrum up through the soles of her strappy heels, a primal rhythm that vibrated in her bones. Her sparkly dress, a second skin of midnight blue, drank in the strobes and laser cuts, the deep plunge at her chest a dark valley catching fleeting glimmers of light. The high slit bared her thigh to the hip with each step, a deliberate invitation she had given herself in the hotel mirror.
She was here on a comped work trip, a corporate drone freed for a night. But the persona she had crafted—the woman in the dress with no panties, the small, hard weight of the anal plug a secret she carried—was something else entirely. Adventurous. A seeker of sensation. The music was a wall of sound, and she let it push against the polite boundaries of her everyday life.
Then a hand, large and warm, settled on the bare skin of her exposed thigh. The touch was possessive, immediate.
“Lost, darling?”
She turned. He was a silhouette against the chaos of lights until he leaned in. Marcus. Dark skin gleaming under the sweat-slick atmosphere, a geometric tattoo crawling up his neck. A silver ring glinted in his eyebrow. His eyes were the color of old whiskey, holding hers with an intensity that cut through the sensory overload. Tall, he loomed, his presence a physical force.
“Not lost,” Sienna said, her voice swallowed by the beat, then found again. “Just… exploring.”
A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. His thumb stroked her skin, a rough pad against her smoothness. “Exploration requires a guide.” His gaze dropped, openly raking the plunge of her dress, the shadowed curve of her breasts. “And you look like you want to discover something wild.”
He didn’t ask. He stated. A shiver, hot and liquid, coiled in her belly. Submissive tendrils within her stretched towards his dominant certainty. He took her champagne flute from her nerveless fingers, sipped from the rim she’d touched, his eyes never leaving hers. Then he offered it back.
“Drink,” he said, the word a low command.
She obeyed. The bubbles were meaningless. The act was everything. As she drank, his other hand came to rest on the small of her back, his fingers splaying wide, claiming territory.
“Good girl,” he murmured, the praise a brand.
He guided her through the seething crowd, his body a shield. They moved towards a curtained alcove, a slightly quieter pocket where the air was thicker, hotter. Another man stood there, leaner, with cold eyes that scanned her with detached, remorseless interest. A friend of Marcus’s.
“This is Caleb,” Marcus said, his mouth close to her ear, his breath hot. “He likes to watch.”
Caleb said nothing, just lit a cigarette, the glow illuminating his sharp features.
Marcus turned Sienna to face him, his hands settling on her hips. The music pounded. Her heart hammered against her ribs. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice a dark promise woven into the dirty synth beats.
“That dress is a lie,” he growled. “It says ‘look but don’t touch.’ But you came here with a plug in your ass and nothing between your legs. You wanted to be seen. You wanted to be taken.” His hands slid from her hips to her ass, squeezing firmly through the thin fabric, his fingers finding the subtle, tell-tale outline of the plug beneath. “Now you’re going to be used.”
The world tilted. The champagne, the heat, the overwhelming press of his will—it all fused into a potent haze. Her submission wasn’t a gentle surrender; it was a crackling wire, live and dangerous. He was right. She had wanted this. The exhibitionism, the raw acknowledgment of her own debasement.
Marcus’s smile was all teeth. “Caleb’s going to get some friends. You’re going to kneel. And you’re going to show this pretty club what a hungry little mouth you have.”
Chapter 2
Marcus’s hand, large and proprietary, closed around the back of Sienna’s neck. “Let’s go, sweetheart. Time for your public service.” His voice was a dark rumble that vibrated through her skull.
He didn’t guide her; he propelled her through the pulsing throng. The crowd parted before his imposing frame, and she stumbled after him in her strappy heels, the secret plug shifting inside her with each step. She saw the raised platform ahead, a circular dais under a swirling vortex of red and white strobes. It was the club’s beating heart, fully exposed.
“Up,” Marcus commanded, giving her a push. She climbed the three short steps, the music seeming to amplify, the bass hammering up through the soles of her feet. A spotlight found them, hot and blinding. Shapes and faces in the darkness became a roaring, faceless mob.
Marcus turned her to face him, his whiskey-colored eyes glinting. “On your knees, Sienna.”
Her breath hitched. The humiliation was a hot, sharp wave, cresting as she slowly sank to the hard surface. The sequins of her dress scraped against her bare thighs. He loomed over her, a dark god of the underworld.
“Look at me,” he ordered. He undid his jeans, the sound of the zipper a sharp tear in the noise. He freed himself, his cock already thick and hard, a dark contrast against his hand. “Open that pretty mouth. Show everyone what you’re for.”
A cheer went up from the crowd, a wave of jeering sound. “Suck that black dick, princess!” someone yelled. The words were a slap. They lit a fire in her gut, a twisted mix of shame and desperate, slick arousal.
Her lips parted. Marcus didn’t wait. He gripped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her curls. “Wider.”
He pushed the broad head past her lips, stretching them. She tasted salt and skin, the musky, masculine scent of him overwhelming. The crowd screamed its approval.
“That’s it,” Marcus groaned, his voice thick. “Take it all, you hungry little slut. Let them see you choke on it.”
He began to move, a shallow, relentless rhythm. Tears pricked her eyes, blurring the sea of watching faces. Each thrust was punctuated by a chant from the darkness, a symphony of degradation that seeped into her bones. She was an object, a spectacle, and the raw truth of it unspooled her completely.
“Good girl,” he grunted, his hips snapping forward, forcing himself deeper into her throat. “You love this, don’t you? Being my good little white whore in front of all these people.”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t deny it. A helpless, guttural moan vibrated around him, answering for her.
Chapter 3
“That’s it, choke on it,” Marcus snarled, his voice raw over the crowd’s roar. His grip in her hair was iron, forcing her head down onto his cock with a brutal, piston-like rhythm. Each time the thick head bumped the back of her throat, her body convulsed, tears and saliva streaking her face. The spotlight burned her skin.
He pulled her off for a second, allowing her a gasping, wet breath. Her blue eyes, dazed and swimming, looked up at him.
“Look at them!” he commanded, tilting her face toward the leering dark. “Look at all the people watching a white bitch learn her purpose.” He slapped his cock against her cheek, the wet slap echoing. “Tell them what you are.”
The words were a sob in her ruined throat. “I’m… a slut,” she whimpered.
“Louder!”
“I’M A SLUT!” she screamed, the confession tearing from her, mingling with the music.
“A white slut,” he corrected, pushing back into her mouth, his voice a booming announcement to the crowd. “Made for black dick. Engineered for it. Look at her fucking face! She was born to be on her knees for this.”
The crowd chanted in time with his thrusts. *Use her! Use her! Use her!*
Caleb appeared at the edge of the dais with two other men. They were all watching, their expressions hungry. Marcus saw them and grinned, a feral flash of teeth.
“You hear that, baby?” he grunted, fucking her mouth with deep, measured strokes. “My friends are here. They saw how good you suck. They want a turn.” He pulled out completely, a strand of spit and pre-cum connecting her lips to his glistening tip. “But first, you’re gonna show everyone what that pretty, plugged ass is really for. Get up. Turn around. Put your hands on the floor and present that fat, white ass to the club.”
Chapter 4
“You heard me,” Marcus growled, his voice cutting through the noise. “Up. Turn around. Present.”
A whimper escaped Sienna’s lips as he hauled her to her feet by her hair. Her knees were weak, her mouth swollen and slick. He spun her roughly, facing her toward the sea of jeering faces. With a firm hand between her shoulder blades, he bent her over until her palms slapped against the sticky, vibration-thrumming floor of the dais. The sequined dress rode up, exposing the full, pale curves of her ass to the crowd and the blinding spotlight.
“Look at that,” Marcus announced, his hand stroking over one cheek. “A perfect, fat, white ass. And it’s already prepped for me.” His fingers found the base of the anal plug, the cool jeweled end a stark contrast to her heated skin. “You did all the hard work for us, didn’t you, sweetheart?”
He didn’t tease. With a sharp, clinical pull, he withdrew the plug. Sienna gasped at the sudden, shocking emptiness, the cool air hitting her most intimate place. A ragged cheer went up from the darkness.
“Now,” Marcus said, his tone one of brutal business. He spit into his hand, slicked himself, and positioned the broad, blunt head of his cock at her exposed hole. “You watch them. You watch every single one of them waiting for you.”
He drove into her in one vicious, splitting thrust.
“FUCK!” Sienna screamed, the pain and fullness a white-hot brand. Her back arched, but his hand on her spine held her down, her face turned toward the edge of the platform.
Caleb was there, already unbuckling his belt. Behind him stood two more men—one with a shaved head and a thick beard, another lean and smirking. They formed a loose line, their eyes locked on her, on where Marcus was fucking her with deep, punishing strokes.
“Chant for her,” Caleb commanded the crowd, his voice cold and clear.
The response was immediate, a deafening, rhythmic roar that matched Marcus’s thrusts. “WHITE SLUT! WHITE SLUT! WHITE SLUT!”
Marcus fucked her harder, his balls slapping against her dripping pussy with every snap of his hips. “You hear that?” he grunted, leaning over her, his breath hot on her ear. “That’s what you are. That’s all you are. My little white slut, taking my black cock in her ass while her next three cocks watch and get hard for her.”
Tears streamed down Sienna’s face, her vision blurring the line of men. She could see Caleb stroking his length, his gaze predatory. The bearded man said something to the smirking one, and they both laughed, the sound swallowed by the chant.
“You’re gonna suck Caleb’s dick while I’m still in this ass,” Marcus promised, his pace becoming relentless, brutal. “And when I’m done wrecking this hole, my friend with the beard is gonna fill your worthless pussy. And the pretty boy there? He gets your mouth again. You’re not leaving this platform until every one of us has used every part of you. You understand?”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. The chant was inside her, the rhythm of his possession hammering her into the floor. She was a vessel, a spectacle, being utterly unmade to the sound of her own degradation. And a terrifying, shameful part of her was clenching around him, begging for more.
Chapter 5
Marcus’s promise was a brutal contract. With a final, deep grind inside her, he pulled his cock from her ass, leaving her gaping and empty. The crowd’s chant shifted, a hungry murmur.
Before Sienna could even gasp, Marcus’s hand fisted in her curly brown hair, yanking her head back. “On your hands and knees, slut. Now.”
He forced her down into a doggy position on the sticky, vibrating floor. The sequins of her dress bit into her knees. Immediately, the first man—the one with the thick beard—moved behind her and then felt the blunt, slick pressure against her dripping, neglected pussy.
“That’s it,” Marcus growled, kneeling on the floor before her face. He slapped his thick, dark cock against her swollen lips. “You’re going to take every inch of this black dick down your white throat while he destroys your ass, slut.”
Behind her, the bearded man drove into her pussy in one savage thrust. Sienna cried out, the sound choked as Marcus pushed the head of his cock past her teeth.
“Suck,” he commanded, his voice a dark rumble. “You swallow me while he fucks that worthless cunt.”
Tears streamed down her face as she tried to accommodate him, her jaw straining. The bearded man set a punishing rhythm, his hips slamming against her ass, each impact jolting her forward onto Marcus’s length. She gagged, saliva dripping.
Marcus pulled back just enough to let her breathe, his cock glistening with her spit. “You like that? You like having your holes filled by real men while everyone watches?”
She could only whimper, a broken sound. The smirking man, Caleb, appeared beside Marcus, stroking himself. “Her throat’s not busy enough,” Caleb observed coldly.
Marcus grinned, his grip tightening in her hair. “You’re right. Open wider, baby. You’re going to deepthroat me until you cry. And if you bite, I’ll ruin you.”
He fed his cock back into her mouth, deeper this time, until her nose pressed against his pelvis. The stretch was brutal, absolute. Behind her, the bearded man grunted, his pace becoming erratic, his fingers digging into her hips.
“She’s tight,” the man growled, his thrusts turning shallow and hard. “Gonna fill this white pussy up.”
Marcus fucked her face in time with the thrusts, his balls slapping her chin. “Take it,” he snarled, his own control fraying. “Swallow me down. Show this whole club what a perfect little fuckhole you are.”
Chapter 6
The thick cock in her pussy pulsed, a brutal rhythm that jolted her entire body forward, forcing Marcus’s length deeper down her throat. Sienna gagged, tears streaming from her blue eyes, her black-nailed fingers scrabbling against the sticky floor.
Marcus pulled back just enough for her to gasp, a string of spit connecting his tip to her swollen lips. His whiskey eyes burned into hers. “You hear that, baby? That’s the sound of a white pussy getting what it deserves.”
Behind her, the bearded man grunted, his grip on her hips iron-tight. “Gonna breed this cunt,” he snarled, his pace turning frantic.
Marcus slapped her cheek lightly with his hard shaft. “Open up, slut. You’re not done. You’re going to suck me off while he fills you, and then you’re going to tell everyone what you are.”
He pushed back in, fucking her mouth with shallow, brutal thrusts that stole her breath. The dual violation was overwhelming—a thick, stretching fullness in her cunt, a choking pressure in her throat. The crowd’s hungry cheers blurred into a single roar of blood in her ears.
Marcus leaned down, his lips brushing her ear, his voice a dark, possessive whisper that cut through the noise. “This is what white sluts were made for. Taking black cock in every hole. Say it.”
He withdrew from her mouth completely. The man behind her slammed home one final, deep time, his body shuddering against her ass as a hot, wet rush flooded her core. Sienna cried out, a broken sound of shock and unwanted, shattering pleasure.
Marcus’s hand fisted in her curly hair, yanking her head up to face the leering crowd. “Tell them!”
Her mind was a haze of humiliation and raw sensation. The words were a poison on her tongue, but the command in his voice was absolute. She opened her mouth, her voice hoarse and cracking, then rising to a scream that echoed off the warehouse walls.
“I love black cock!” she wailed, the confession tearing from her soul. “I’m just a white slut for black cock!”
The crowd erupted. Marcus’s triumphant grin was savage. “Again! Louder!”
She sobbed, her body still trembling from the stranger’s release inside her. “I LOVE BLACK COCK!” she screamed, the words a final surrender, branding her forever in the strobe-lit dark.
Chapter 7
Marcus’s fist tightened in her curls, a painful anchor. He dragged her, stumbling and slick with sweat and other men’s spend, through the parting crowd. The lights swam, a nausea-inducing carousel of color. He shoved her forward, her palms slapping down onto the cool, sticky surface of a low cocktail table. Champagne bottles rattled.
“Spread those white-girl legs,” Marcus snarled, his voice raw and commanding. He kicked her ankles apart with his boot, the stance brutally wide. Her cheek was pressed against the table, her ass presented high and open to the room. The ruined slit of her dress gaped, offering a view of her swollen, glistening pussy and the dark jewel of the plug still nestled in her ass.
He leaned over her, his big body caging her in, his mouth at her ear. “Two more, baby. One for that hungry mouth, one for this wrecked cunt. You’re gonna take it all.”
A hand, calloused and large, clamped over the back of her head, fingers tangling with Marcus’s. Another man, smelling of smoke and cheap whiskey, shoved his thick cock past her lips without ceremony. It was a brutal invasion, hitting the back of her throat immediately. Sienna gagged, her body convulsing, but the hand held her firm, forcing her to take the full, suffocating length.
As she choked, the man behind her lined up. She felt the broad, slick head of his cock notch against her tender entrance. With no warning, he drove into her, a single, devastating thrust that buried him to the hilt. A ragged scream was muffled around the cock fucking her mouth. The stretch was agony, a raw, burning fullness that stole her breath.
Marcus’s whisper was a venomous thread in her ear, intimate and vile. “Look at you. A white tablecloth for black kings. Your mouth exists to suck us. Your pussy exists to get bred by us. You’re nothing but a set of holes for us to use.”
The man in her mouth began to piston, a harsh, rhythmic deep-throat fuck that made her eyes stream. The man in her pussy settled into a brutal, pounding doggy style rhythm, his balls slapping against her clit with each drive. The dual violation was overwhelming, a synchronous punishment that rocked her entire world.
“Nod if you understand, slut,” Marcus hissed, his breath hot. “Nod if you know your place.”
Tears flowing, unable to speak, Sienna forced her head to bob in a weak, gagging nod around the invading cock. It was the only truth left.
Chapter 8
Marcus’s cruel whisper was still a wet brand in her ear when the man buried in her pussy suddenly pulled out.
“Open her other hole, man,” he grunted, his cock slick and glistening in the strobing light. A thick thumb, calloused and rough, pressed against the base of the anal plug. With a brutal twist, he popped it free. The sudden emptiness was a shock, a cold void that was instantly filled by the broad, slick head of his cock.
“No, please—” Sienna’s protest was a choked gurgle around the cock in her mouth.
He didn’t listen. He drove into her ass in one brutal, shearing thrust. The stretch was incendiary, a white-hot lance of pure sensation that tore a ragged scream from her violated throat. The man fucking her mouth hammered deeper, silencing her.
“That’s it, take it,” Marcus growled, his hand fisting her hair painfully. “Your ass is ours now, too.”
The brutal rhythm was punishing, a deep, piston-like assault that struck something primal within her. The pain began to twist, morphing under the relentless pressure and the degrading chant of the crowd. A coil of heat, perverse and undeniable, tightened in her gut. Her body betrayed her, clenching around the invading thickness as a shockwave of sensation detonated.
She came with a broken, muffled shriek. Her pussy, untouched and swollen, convulsed violently, and a hot gush of fluid squirted from her, soaking the inside of her ruined dress and dripping onto the floor beneath the table. The humiliation was absolute, her climax a public spectacle of degradation.
“Look at that! The white slut’s squirting like a whore!” Marcus roared, his voice triumphant with contempt.
As Sienna trembled through the aftershocks, the man in her ass grunted, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Gonna fill this tight ass,” he snarled, and she felt the hot, pulsing flood of his release deep inside her. He held himself there, pumping his cum into her violated channel until he was spent.
He pulled out with a wet sound, leaving her gaping and dripping. The man at her mouth followed, pulling his cock free with a final slap against her cheek.
Marcus yanked her up by her hair. Her knees buckled, but he held her firm, forcing her to her knees before him. Caleb stepped closer, his cold eyes gleaming.
“Clean us off, slut,” Marcus commanded, his cock, thick and proud, presented to her lips. “Then get Caleb nice and wet.”
Tears streaked through the mess on her face as she obeyed. She took Marcus first, sucking him with a weary, practiced rhythm born of utter subjugation. He didn’t last long.
“Open your eyes, whore. Look at me,” he ordered.
She looked up, her blue eyes swimming with shame. With a guttural groan, he came, the first hot stripe painting her cheek. He shoved her towards Caleb, who guided his cock into her mouth without a word. She serviced him quickly, hollowing her cheeks until his body stiffened.
“On her face, Caleb. Mark her,” Marcus said.
Caleb obliged, pulling out and adding his own release to Marcus’s, the warm cum splattering across her forehead, her nose, her trembling lips. It pooled in her eyelashes.
Marcus crouched, gripping her chin, making her look at him through the filmy, white glaze. “Now everyone sees what you are,” he said, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. “A cum-drunk, used-up little toy. And you belong to me.”