Smokestack Lighting [Pokemon]

Summary: Cynthia puts on a strong face publicly, but behind closed doors, she is anything but; her ravenous love for black men and her desire to submit to them are secrets few ever get to know, but who do are the lucky ones.

Credit: NidoranDuran

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In the public eye, Cynthia was everything that a Champion should have been. Powerful, competitive, confident, a role model for all trainers to look up and a public face to lead the excellence of Sinnoh. Girls in other regions had posters of her on their walls, aspiring to be as effortlessly cool as her, to be as stunning a mixture of beauty and raw Pokemon battling prowess as she was. The face she put forward in public seemed like a stern and truthful show of control and effort, something that she presented with such ease that everyone believed it to be a show of utter control and ferocity. She wasn't a trainer who showed the slightest inclination toward defeat or the slightest tendency to falter. No, Cynthia was powerful. Cynthia was her own woman, and she proved it every time she stepped out to fight.

Behind closed doors, Cynthia lay by the pool of her villa wearing a cow print bikini, bright pink lipstick, and a choker with a dangling spade symbol. A similar spade was tattooed below her navel and just off to the right, a black tattoo with an elegant Q outline inside of it. Her blonde hair was done up in pigtails, and she lay atop a pool floatie, head obediently sank down into the lap of a muscular black man who lay atop his own pool floatie, his shorts floating atop the water and his massive cock sucked down past her lips.

"I love seeing you parade around on stage with all that power, because it makes it so much more satisfying that you're just a slutty snowbunny behind closed doors," he bragged.

Cynthia could only moan and sputter in approval, sucking the cock down hard, cheeks sucked in to provide an intense suction to the pressure and attention that made this all burn out so much more intensely. There wasn't any semblance of control or composure to how she carried herself; Cynthia was an absolute mess, a disaster struggling to handle the pleasures upon her and every overbearing throb of want and heat that didn't let up on her. Her head kept bobbing along his cock, tending to him harder and embracing every hungry and chaotic ache through her body, before she pulled back and gasped out, "I can't help it. I'm addicted to black cock."

If people knew the truth about Cynthia's sex life, it would have been a massive scandal. For as strong and as forceful as she was, Cynthia loved being a huge slut for black men, inviting over hung, masculine, dark skinned studs who could dominate her so thoroughly that she turned into nothing more than a cockslut for them. The queen of spades tattoo she wore always out of sight was a mark on her body of commitment and promise to black men, an acceptance of her submission to black cock. The world at large wasn't allowed to know about it, never permitted to find out her sinful truth.

But here, in her private villa, Cynthia was able to be free, and freedom took the form, for her, of sucking down the huge cock of one of her favorite 'friends' while they lay at the pool. She took his cock back down and slurped loudly on the shaft, adoring it with the most unrelenting of attentions, open to the pleasures and the desires of a senseless heat that she didn't feel like she wanted to be careful with. Every dizzy ache through her body begged out for more indulgence from Cynthia, who knew she had a funny way of falling into a continuous cycle of interracial indulgence when she got too into it. It was like a drug, and she didn't care about trying to escape the pull and the gravity of throwing herself into whatever satisfactions she could get from it.

The steady groove of bobbing her head up and down along his cock showed off a desire and a heat that she was out to make the most of, a sloppy mess giving happily up to hopeless swells of want and fascination. The tight suction of her mouth around him was a direct and forceful push into all the pleasures and the passions she felt she could make the most of, and as she fell deeper into the haze, Cynthia couldn't help but focus on all the pleasures and devotions that came from giving in so utterly. There was a simplicity to her plunge, something that felt soothing about lounging by the pool, almost completely devoid of thought or concern, but completely fixated on the challenge of trying to handle such a massive cock.

"Nothing can help you," he teased, slowly reaching to grasp her hair pulled up into twintails, then abruptly slamming her down his cock, forcing his way into her throat without warning. The sensation didnt' stop Cynthia for a second, even as she gagged around his cock, all tension hitting her firmly. She was committed to holding on, and all of his teasing words only made her feel needier and hotter, made needy cravings pulse hotter through her body in pursuit of feelings she just had to let take her. "Look at you. You love black cock so much that you'd rather choke on it than slow down."

It was true. The delirium and the hazer of these senseless, throbbing pleasures left Cynthia powerless, a wound up mess too needy to contain these volatile emotions surging through her body. She really was addicted, really was unable to contain the spectacle of how badly she needed to give in, and there felt like no sensible hope that helped her hold out against all of it. Up and down she bobbed, stubbornly keeping up with this while all his pulls at her hair kept her moving. He dictated the pace, the mad motions up and down the full length of his huge cock. There was so much cock here, so much to deal with, so much to praise. It was part of what had entranced Cynthia to begin with: the idea that these cocks deserved worship overrode just about every reasonable impulse and bit of hesitation in her mind and left her slavishly seeking more.

Watching one of the most gorgeous women in Sinnoh sucking his cock with obedient reverence made him groan loudly, stretching out as best he could atop the pool floatie he lay on. The chance to lie back and watch her admire him with her sloppiest fever all brought him a very direct pleasure, something sinful and wanton to soak in, all while he forced her along, tugging at her hair with his worst impulses all becoming shamelessly real and forward in the most brutal of ways. He didn't have to do much, just tugging her along in her blowjob, forcing her deep down his cock and making sure that she did her job perfectly.

And she did. Cynthia took nothing, not even Pokemon battling, as seriously as she took her service to black cock. The tattoo on her hip wasn't just a flirty way to drive black guys wild; it was a statement she lived by, pushing on with hopeless fascination to keep going all out, to keep slobbering on this cock and give herself to the wild fevers that begged her to keep going. She threw herself at all of this, trying to handle the attention and trying to work at sucking him off like the pro she was. The pressure built up hotter, excessive and ferocious and totally devoid of sense. But as he throbbed in her mouth, all she could do was moan around him and surrender to the dominance and the majesty of his amazing cock, needing only to keep giving in to these spectacular feelings.

There wasn't any patience or control to be found in this mess. Only continued sinking, only the slurping, slobbering chaos of a woman whose only thoughts were fixated on sucking cock and giving in to everything being asked of her. Cynthia showed no shame with her motions, the broad gestures of heat and wickedness all driving home a senseless, singular point. She may not have gotten off, but as her man groaned and bucked and erupted inside her mouth, the ecstasy was overwhelming, a selfless joy that she felt in accomplishment. The pleasure was overwhelming, her head spinning as he pulled her back and he shot more cum onto her face. She swallowed what she had, but didn't mind if some overflowed and dribbled down her chin.

"I love black cock so much," she whined, a hazy and dizzy wreck compeltely unable to contain herself now. "I'm hooked. Nothing in the world is better."

With a smug grin, he slipped out of the pool and dragged her along with him. Cynthia went, stumbling around in her skimpy, cow print bikini toward the chairs, all while he guided her with a firm smack on her ass every few steps for good measure.

"You love being submissive, don't you?" he asked while guiding her down onto one of the long, white, plastic chairs reclined back for sunbathing, but which also made a great platform for her to present her ass up high in the air while he came up from behind, ready to drill her doggy style. "Everyone thinks you're so strong, but when I smack your ass, you fall right into line."

"A good snowbunny knows that no matter how strong she is, her black masters are more important," she moaned, wiggling her ass and begging for his attention. With a firm push, he gave it to her, yanking her bikini bottoms down and sliding her from behind with a swift and fluid motion. All the heat and surprise made her shudder out in shaky delight, a hunger and excess sweeping across her body with swift fire as she received it. One stroke was all she needed, but Cynthia was far from done, moaning out in bold, excitable heat as that first taste of black dick sinking into her pussy pushed her into o another level of submission, mentally throttling her and sending her into a wild spiral.

The open and unbridled chaos of being filled just did something to her thoughts, and Cynthia wasn't afraid of letting it show. Amid wild, senseless gasps of ecstasy, she allowed herself to be pushed into a different state of mind, an open surrender to pleasures and devotions that didn't need to make sense, they just needed to be there for her. It all helped that, no matter how many times she fucked black men, her pussy always almost divinely tight, completely receptive and eager to be taken and filled and used like this, and she didn't need to do anything but surrender to her most senseless and passionate lusts. The fact that backing all of that desire and intensity were powerful strokes crashing against her hips and forcing her to learn the hard way what senseless ecstasies she craved.

"Make me feel like the lowliest little slut. Make me feel I'm just a weak girl pretending to be strong so she can tempt black men into crushing her." Cynthia got deep into a mindset of utter submission. She wasn't a weak woman no matter how much she loved black dick, but the joy of playing into it, of throwing herself into these over the top and passionate lusts with the desire to play at being something else appealed deeply to her, made her feel pleasures that she wasn't getting anywhere else, and there wasn't anything that could spare her from the crushing fever of giving in. Retreating into fantasy and easy ideas, into letting a man simply take her and use her however he wanted and pushing her to sink into brilliant joys was so much more than she felt like she could handle.

The way her head spun and her thoughts all felt like they were being yanked forcefully away from her produced weird and foggy rushes of a fire she didn't try to pull back from, seeking out more with each delirious ache of a body begging for this treatment. Cynthia couldn't even pretend she wanted to contain herself now, struggling, shivering mess jerking about with only one goal in mind and only one thought in her head. As long as she could keep spiraling deeper through this, she didn't need anything else, didn't want to think any more. She just needed to keep falling, plunging into a hopeless fire and a chaos that kept her needing more. Her pussy was snug and desperate and completely ready to give in, the embrace of hunger pushing her to weird depths of frustration and want, and all she could do was embrace it all.

Holding onto her hips and pounding forward, he kept bragging, "If all those girls who look up to you knew that you were a snowbunny slut behind closed doors, it would crush them."

"No, I'd teach them!" Cynthia howled. "I'd show all the girls out there who look up to me that black cock is the best, and I'd encourage them to become queens of spades just like me!" Her hips shoved back to meet the merciless thrusts, craving what came with it and needing to continue falling deeper. Every noise she let out was another show of wanton fascination, a wild rush of desire pushing her closer to the limit of her patience and her focus, all while she continued to madly buck about and throw herself into this mess. She couldn't get enough of what it offered, desperation building hotter inside her and demanding that she succumb harder and harder to these feelings. There wasn't any good reason to contain herself now, wasn't any sense in trying to hold herself together while these dizzy thrills pushed her down lower.

Rougher thrusts crashed against her from behind, every moan ringing brighter out amid her desire to crash and to collapse, and she was an inconsolable mess awash in pleasure through every second of getting what she craved most. It was incredible, and she was fully prepared to commit to it. The pleasure was unreal, and all of it felt singularly fixated on the idea that she was to come undone at the seams. Senseless passion and hunger kept pushing her, all while her pussy got pounded into oblivion and her head spun with wild, ravenous desire. The sweeps of delight and hunger had a funny way of cutting to her very core, inducing something inside of Cynthia that felt absolutely mad.

The throbbing spectacle and delirium pulled her into a state of desire and hunger so messy and so fierce that she just couldn't handle any of it. The pleasure was unreal, forcing her down, demanding that she give in and that she unravel, and Cynthia didn't have the power to resist it. Twisting hotter under all this attention and devotion, she felt powerless and hysterical, felt like a complete wreck whose thoughts hazily spiraled into pure unraveling and desire. The desperate thrills pushing her to break down were absolutely tremendous, forcing her to shudder and suffer her way through absolute joy while he reamed from behind.

"I'd tell all of Sinnoh to get blacked!" she howled, following her desperation up with a throw back of her head and a senseless crash into joy and ruin, into something truly senseless, and she couldn't control it any longer. Her head spun and the ecstasy crushed her thoughts fully, made her spiral into a haze of pure fascination and chaos and want that didn't let up. The climax that rushed through her body made Cynthia feel incredible, made her struggle and shiver her way through incredible fascination. The addition of cum pumping into her hot and needy pussy only added to that, ferocious joys pulsing hotly through her, forcing her to surrender to the heat and the hunger and the mad fire of a heat she couldn't get enough of. Cynthia was a mess, completely inconsolable and lost to the desires taking her, knowing the pleasure ran deep and that she was right where she needed to be as she gave in to it all.

Not to waste even a moment, he pulled out of her and rolled Cynthia onto her back, hastily moving up her body. "That cow top looks perfect on you," he teased, his cock sliding up into her ample cleavage from below, her bikini top helping hold her tits together as his thick cock sank forward into it. She watched it push forward, moaning in bold, brash delight as she received his attentions upon her, the smouldering delight and desire adding up to a senseless rush of pleasures that came on quickly. "Big tits look best on blonde snowbunnies."

Cynthia lay back, happily letting him use her chest for his own satisfaction, simply accepting the relentless pleasures and the way he touched her. "No, they look best with a big, black cock sticking out of them," she shot back, grasping her breasts and pushing them together, trying to further encourage him on. She wasn't getting anything immediate out of this, but she was entranced by the sight of his cock shoving its way down into her cleavage, showing off the wicked and senseless depths he was ready to sink to, all while she took on his attention and savoured his overwhelmed touch. Her body was there for black men to use, and she was unashamed of that fact, prepared to hold steady for him and to grant him her body with unflinching devotion.

Rocking her breasts up and down his cock in perfect complement to the steady thrusts forward, Cynthia focused desperately on holding tight to the praise and the fever of an undying devotion to his cock. The sight of his dark shaft pushing up through her cleavage excited her more than she knew what to do with, her head spinning under the relentless spectacles and fascinations all keeping her moving. The chance to surrender to this was something special, something that she wanted only to soak in more of as she beheld his wild thrusts at work. The pleasure was unrelenting, a forward push into feelings and wants that simply weren't letting up.

"They're perfect," he groaned, holding onto the chair for leverage while deep strokes pushed his cock forward, drawing back with equal vigor and sinking into a deeper fascination with these pleasures, desires that weren't letting up for a second. The position he had over her was one that he reveled in, and one that he could tell drove her wild given the look on her face; every slavish excitement pulsing through Cynthia was a good sign of just how lost she was, how fully prepared she was to give in to these grandest of desires. The spectacle of these pleasures didn't let up. "I could fuck you for hours."

"You already have been," Cynthia moaned. "I love your stamina. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you'd be a great fuck buddy." Cynthia was indeed overwhelmed by the sight of him over her; the outline his strong, muscular body cast while heaving atop her, his huge cock mercilessly indulging in her luscious tits and in every bit of the pleasures he sought from her. There was no controlling his deepest wants, no holding back the wicked thrills that begged him deeper. There was only pleasure to be found in this mess, a satisfaction senseless and wild enough for her to lose herself. Everything about the feeling of submission kept her hungry and needy, wanting more, craving whatever she could get from this, all while his steady thrusts continued to ache across her body. She wanted to finger herself, but she needed to hold onto her chest and keep it moving.

Cynthia knew she didn't have to wait too much longer though; the pleasure was coming on with less and less sense, his grunts and his groans growing more tense and breathless. He inched ever closer toward release, and all Cynthia had to do was hold firm and offer her chest up to these ecstasies, admiring how fitful and aggressive he got, how desperate he was to give in to this. The pleasure was getting more bizarre and fierce, a rush of absolute bliss that didn't let up. she wanted to be of service, wanted to give herself up to him fully, and she was unafraid of throwing herself into it all, abandoning sense for the sake of something powerful. "Cum all over me," she moaned, biting her lip and admiring him with all she had. Cynthia's adoration for black men was unstoppable, and she sought to prove that here.

How could he resist? With a loud groan and a sudden, messy eruption of his cock, he came all over her, hosing down her pretty face with shot after shot of thick, sticky cum. Cynthia took it all in stride, almost lost to the wild fever of his attentions, her head dizzy and her body aching through these wild spectacles, trying not make sense of all her cravings and the desires that came with them. His cock erupted and twitched, every mighty shot forward making her head spin, making her feel better about these senseless passions, and she was completely unable to contain the wanton moans and shaky delights that shuddered through her. Cynthia felt lit up by inconsolable glee, by a desire that only deepened amid her shuddering surrender.

"Fuck me again," Cynthia moaned, staring up at him with a hazy, flesh-drunk defiance. "Fuck. I need more."

"Most snowbunnies can't keep up," he said, smiling down on her as he pulled out from her tits, leaving her bikini top still on as he moved his way down lower. "But you're a real slut, aren't you? Fucking insatiable." He grabbed hold of her legs and yanked them up, folding her in half on the pool chair and shoving his way down into her pussy again, ready to drive into her from this new position and have his way with her.

"I'm an insatiable slut for big, black cocks!" Cynthia gasped, howling out in wild agreement and accepting the pleasures that hit her, needing to suffer deeper into feelings of pure delight and desire. She had needs, very specific frustrations begging her to fall deeper, and there was no sense to be found in any of it now. The pleasure all built up hotter, strange sweeps of fascination and heat coming on with less and less control for her as she lay there, folded in half and feeling her needy cunt filled once more with dick. The deep strokes hit her with an overbearing and perfect desire to go all out, and she was happy to lose herself to it, happy to sink into deeper appreciation for just about every relentless throb of satisfaction that this begged from her.

Cynthia's favorite time to get fucked in the haze of a relentless marathon pounding always came after she gave head or a titfuck; the interruption and the chance to feel empty for a moment induced something extra special, a ferocious desire inside of her demanding complete surrender to these feelings, a mad spectacle she was able to give in harder. A return to form and ecstasy and spectacle. There wasn't anything she had to do but give in to all of it, the pleasure inducing something mad and fiery that she needed more of. The pleasure was endless, a relentless throb of heat and hunger that kept her falling, and she didn't try to contain it all, hands gripping his chest and her head spinning in wild delirium, a fever that she was unable to pretend she cared about fighting.

Shaky delights kept her drunk and hazy, legs shaking up in the air through the fascination that kept her stumbling deeper, a pleasure she felt like she just had to succumb to. There was no direction or sense to any of this, no good way to deal with the commotion and chaos filling her up. His cock was relentless and wicked, making her thoughts spiral ever lower into frustration, and she couldn't possibly contain the pleasures that pulsed through her. Relentless satisfactions kept her desperate, staring happily up toward him and embracing the pleasures that simply kept going. Every throb inside of her body begged her to keep falling, and the passion burned through her with a very spectacular breed of madness. She didn't care about holding it back, containing herself and enduring every wild thrill and throb that kept hitting her.

All the while, his cock sank into her, hitting her deep and reminding her just why she was so fixated on black cock, rewarding her devotion with each deep slam forward. He grabbed her pigtails for stability, pulling on them while her forced every inch of his massive cock into her, and she was so hopelessly blissed out, ready to twist through the fascinations it invited. She was lit up, a ragged and hopeless mess whose moans continued to swell louder and dizzier, expressing the uncaged fever that kept her falling deeper. Everything about being fucked by such a huge cock had her lit up with passion, and she was insistent in the face of all these wicked and senseless feelings.

"Harder," she whined. "Own me. Make me your bitch. Make me your snowbunny cum dumpster and treat me like I fucking deserve!" She gripped him tighter, staring up into his eyes and begging with all she had for more. The pleasure was overwhelming here, and every senseless throb through her body left Cynthia feeling more ragged and worn down, but all in the name of getting what she wanted. The grand spectacle before her was all so simple and so steady, a certainty that she didn't try to pull back from, a certainty that kept her animated and needy and pushing on harder for more and more. There wasn't any sense of restraint behind any of it, but that was how she wanted it.

Would the chair break? Cynthia didn't care. As long as he was on top moaning and slamming into her, he didn't care either; the relentless back and forth of fascination and surrender kept both of them noisily crashing into ruin together. He didn't warn when he was about to cum, he simply forced his way into her and sent her into a mad spiral of noise and fever as he let loose inside her. In turn, all Cynthia could do was squeal and twist underneath him, dizzily giving up to the spectacle of a mad orgasm and the kind of climax that could wear down at every last bit of focus and good sense inside her. Cynthia was always smitten, a hopeless wreck who simply couldn't believe how good all these pleasures felt, and an orgasm that hard always helped her mind go off the rails while absolutely reaffirming everything about what she wanted most.

Her legs shook in the air, a feverish rush of pure fascination lingering over her as she hung there, confused and worn down, so hopeless, and finally, she felt like it was fine to say, "We can have a break now."

"Not yet." Pulling out of Cynthia and pushing forward, he rose upright and yanked her pigtails to pull her into a seat position in front of him before he smacked his cock across her face. "Clean me off first." Repeated strikes of his cock across her cheek, back and forth, made Cynthia's head spin, and she was so enthralled by it that she felt like she was going to pass out. So fresh off of being fucked, the pressure felt so hot and so forceful, btu she wasn't able to contain her glee.

"Of course," she moaned. 'I always serve my black masters." Bringing her tongue down on it again, Cynthia ended her cycle where she began it, letting her tongue drag along the shaft, now sticky with her juices, and savouring the chance to praise him. In her mind, no position served to greater express her submission to black cock and the power it had over her than when she was giving head. When she put her mouth to work in reverence and submission so deeply, sucking him off and glorifying him with her focus and her attention all pointed specifically at satisfying his every demand. The raw thrill of submission was overbearing, but she was ready for it, licking all over him, tasting him.

Occasionally, his cock smacked across her face some more. Cynthia took it in stride, moaning in hungry approval and gratitude, desperately heaving against these feelings with less and less stability or control. She had only one need here, a desire raging harder through her body by the second, and she was unafraid of these ecstasies, unafraid of how insane it all felt. More and more, she was a victim of her own senseless depravity, and the chaos that accompanied it made her feel even better. It was a shaky aftermath that hung over her now, but even needing a break, she was on call to serve black dick, and she never faltered. She needed it too badly.

Burying her face into his balls, she licked and slurped at what still felt heavy and full, rubbing her face into it and allowing the scent to fill her nostrils. The pleasure didn't let up for her; it wasn't even fully about sex anymore, it was about submission and it was about servitude. about knowing that putting all of her strength and her status aside to let this man grind his dick against her face and slap her dizzy with it after he fucked her. TO hear him groan, "You're my favorite snowbunny," while he guided his head into her mouth and made her suck on it again.

She was delirious and hopeless but oh so very committed. As he sank once more into her throat, she gagged proudly on his cock. Wasn't expertly handling such massive and incredible cocks its own kind of strength? Cynthia found a strange satisfaction in that idea, using it for encouragement and fire as she gagged him down, as she lost herself even deeper. She wasn't in control here. Here in her villa, by her pool, by every symbol of status and power she held, she was a hopeless wreck addicted to black cock and so needy for her fix that even freshly ruined and exhausted, she sucked. Because it was what her bull wanted. That was all that mattered.

Tugging at her twintails and cramming his cock down her throat, all of the pleasures demanded something special from her. She kept going, hands settling against his pelvis, his thrusts winding up to properly fuck her pretty face, and Cynthia endured it, prepared to go all out and prepared to abandon any semblance of control to seek it all out. Nothing could slow her down now, fixation desperately winding her up and her head spinning harder in the face of all these grandiose feelings. To choke his cock down and persist was all she could do now, and she wasn't about to fail him. She couldn't. No proper queen of spades left her bull wanting, and she was eager to continue savouring every second of this sloppy attention no matter how insane it all got.

The quicker thrusts pounded forward, building up a mad pace, making her sputter and struggle through this commotion. He was all but testing her at this point, just fucking with Cynthia on his way to getting off. "You're the best. You'd be the best even if you weren't the champion, but making the champion into my bitch is just so much b--fuck!" He threw his head back, not meaning to cum so quickly, but erupting into her mouth regardless, pumping shot after shot of cum down her throat, and this time, he didn't pull away. He held her in place and filled her up, made her struggle and shiver her way through sweet pandemonium before he finally pulled back.

Spit and saliva clung to her lips and to his cock as he drew away. Cynthia sat on her pool chair a complete mess, struggling for air and feeling absolutely incredible about giving up. "You bring out something special in mine," she whined.

"I bet I can bring out a lot more than that." He slapped her across the cheek with his cock. "You have a long weekend coming up, right?"

"Right." Cynthia sucked down a nervous breath, absolutely certain something insane was about to follow.

"Why don't I bring some friends over?"