Becoming Bad Trilogy (Interracial Gangbang Erotica Bundle) E-Book

Jenna Powers

• Herausgeber: PEAR Stories
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

Christine is a struggling chemistry teacher and her husband is unemployed. When her husband is diagnosed with cancer, she learns of a drug making venture that could cover the costs. The distribution on the other hand, is a problem. She meets a gang of black men that can help her, but they want favors in return as well. This bundle brings together all three Becoming Bad books into one trilogy!

Becoming Bad

Christine is a struggling chemistry teacher and her husband is jobless. He is diagnosed with cancer and they're low on money. She stumbles upon a news story about a meth lab that was recently busted and notices one of her students running away. The drug is just chemistry to her, the problem is distribution. She meets with four black men to distribute with but cash isn't what they have in mind...

Warning! This 12,526 word explicit story contains black MMMM / Caucasian F, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, double penetration, triple penetration, creampies, anal creampies, and even squirting! Christine really starts off with a bang in her path to becoming bad!

Becoming Badder

Christine continues her operations, slowly making herself the best drug cook in the business. Unfortunately, her husband's brother works for the DEA and he's hot on her trail. She devises a plan to use his wife, Amanda to get him off her trail but the three black men she sends has more devious plans. Amanda ends up being surrounded by big black men, ready to make her surrender to them in pleasure.

Warning! This 15,875 word explicit story contains black MMM / Caucasian F, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, double penetration, triple penetration, creampies, and anal creampies! Amanda ends up in quite the situation as Christine continues her trend to becoming... badder.

Becoming Baddest

Christine realizes that she can get out of the business since her husband is feeling healthier. Unfortunately, the drug lord she deals with is in no mood to let her go. Not only does the drug lord know what she looks like, but he's also got Amanda as a sex toy to torture her husband's brother, a DEA agent. She hatches a plan to try to break free but will it execute as she planned or will it fail?

Warning! This 11,720 word explicit story contains black MMMMM / Caucasian F, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, double penetration, triple penetration, and bukakes! Christine ends up being the baddest teacher and drug cook she can be in this exciting conclusion to the Becoming Bad series!

Leseprobe

Becoming Bad Trilogy

By Jenna Powers

Table of Contents

Becoming Bad

Becoming Badder

Becoming Baddest

About the Author

Exclusive Sneak Peak: The Realms of War

Becoming Bad

Christine sat in disbelief as she stared at the doctor, clutching her husband's hand.  In recent months, her husband, Walt, had been collapsing or blanking out entirely.  She had thought it was due to the stress, with him recently being laid off at the auto company.  Now it all began to make sense as the doctor stared at the couple.

"Are you sure?"  She asked.

"Yes, it's cancer.  If we start therapy now we have a twenty percent chance of getting it out of him."  The doctor replied.

"That's it?  Twenty percent?"  Walt lashed out.

Christine stared off and noticed that there was a little ink blot on the doctor's shirt.  The two voices drowned out as she wondered if a pen had recently broken on him or if accidentally marked his shirt.  Her mind moved on, questioning the doctor's credentials.  If he couldn't keep a clean shirt, how reliable could he be?

"Christine!"  Walt growled.

She snapped back to the doctor's office and stared at her husband.

"Come on, let's go."  He said as he stood up.  "I've heard enough."

"What?  What about the therapy?  We need to get you an appointment.  Start this now!"  She replied.

The doctor nodded in agreement.

"Come on, we'll talk about this outside."  He answered angrily.

Walt left the office, swinging the door wildly.  Christine shook the doctor's hand as she stood up.

"I'm sorry Dr. Kim, he's been under a lot of stress."  Christine apologized.

The doctor stood and shook his head.  "It happens all the time.  Look, you need to convince your husband. I'm very close with Dr. Bonner, and he's one of the leading experts in radioactive therapy."

Christine nodded and followed her husband out.  He was sitting at the waiting room, fuming.  His face was red, ready to pop at a moment's notice.  The tapping of Christine’s heels on the tiled floor grabbed his attention.  For a moment, she saw the true sadness in his eyes as he soaked in the doctor’s words.

“Walt, what’s going on?  Why are you avoiding the treatment?”  Christine asked as she sat next to Walt, making sure to hold down her short black skirt to avoid any flashing of her thong.

“What’s going on?  What do you mean, what’s going on?  You heard him.  I have cancer!  And his stupid treatment gives me a twenty percent chance of surviving?  Did you hear how much that costs?”  He spewed out.

“Walt, honey, twenty percent is better than zero percent.  As for the cost of the treatment, insurance can cover a lot of it.”  Christine replied.

“Really?  The school’s health insurance plan is going to cover my cancer treatment?  And somehow, on whatever remains, you’re job is going to pay for that?”  He replied angrily, his words hitting her like painful acid.

Christine stared at the ground.  She was a chemistry teacher, teaching freshmen and sophomores in high school.  Unfortunately for her, the school was more towards the lower end of the spectrum when it came to intellectuals.  With the school being rated so badly, there was little room for high salaries or bonuses, and the health insurance program they offered were truly bare bones.

“Look, I think you should still get the treatment.  We’ll get the money somehow.”  Christine answered hopefully.

Walt shook his head and covered his face with his hands.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to lash out.  It’s just... it’s too much.”

Christine gave her husband a calming hug and stared at the television.  A news anchor was on, standing in front of a rundown home with police cars surrounding the area.  The news flash at the bottom mentioned that a meth lab had recently been found by police and the DEA were arriving shortly for a drug bust.  As the camera panned to the house, she noticed a figure hop out from the side.  It was brief, but the braided hairstyle and the clothes immediately caught her eye.

“Maurice?”  She whispered as she squinted.

The figure ran off, clutching onto his baggy jeans.  It appeared that no one had caught him hopping out from the side, not even the news anchor standing and pointing at the house.  He quickly disappeared into the crowd.  The wheels in her head began to turn as she stared at the television.  Walt’s brother was a DEA agent, and was most likely on his way to the scene.  She could call and turn Maurice in, using the footage, or...

“Come on, let’s go.”  Walt muttered as he stood.

Christine snapped out of her thoughts and stood with him.  The two made their way out towards their little hybrid car.  She couldn’t help but turn and look at the television on her way out.  If she was right and the person hopping out was Maurice, there would be a chance, a small chance, that she’d be able to pay for Walt’s radioactive therapy sessions.

The drive back home was filled with silence as Walt stared out the window while Christine drove.  It wasn’t long before they reached their home.  Walt hopped out and headed to the door while Christine stayed in the car.

“You coming?”  Walt asked.

Christine opened the window and stuck her head out.  “Why don’t you go get some rest?  I need to run a couple of errands.”

Walt shrugged and headed into the house as Christine backed out her car.  She vaguely remembered where Maurice used to live.  It was near the projects, which is one place she didn’t want to go.  But, he did have a friend, a high school dropout, a kid who went by the name Weasel.  Christine knew exactly where Weasel would be and sped off towards the mall.

While driving, her mind was processing.  She had seen news on methamphetamine, or meth, before but paid no attention to it.  To her, it was just another simple man made chemical compound, a puzzle that just needed the right pieces.  If she could get to Maurice, she’d be able to get the pieces of the puzzle and sell the drug on the side.  It was a crazy plan, but she was in a desperate mode.

She parked in the mall parking lot and stepped out, scanning the area for Weasel.  He was usually hanging out in the parking lot, usually testing car doors to see if they were open.  As if on cue, she saw him in the distance, testing a large SUV.  She smiled as she stood up, making sure to straighten her short black skirt.  Her blouse was a bit ruffled and she smoothed it as best as she could as she closed the door and walked towards the direction of Weasel.

Weasel was a tall, extremely skinny teen who had dropped out his sophomore year.  His nickname came from the way his face looked, coupled with his wiry body.  As she neared, she saw him look up and panic, moving side to side and practically walking in circles.

"Weasel!"  She shouted.

"Uh... hey Mrs. Brown."  He replied quietly as he awkwardly slipped his hands into his pockets.

"Hey, don't try to walk off.  I'm not here for you.  I'm looking for Maurice."  She informed him.

He looked around, scanning the area.  Christine wasn't sure what he was looking for.

"So... like... are we in trouble or something... or?"

Christine sighed as she crossed her arms.  "Look, I don't have time for idle chat.  No one is in trouble, I just need to know where Maurice is."

He scratched his dirty, curly hair and looked around again.  "I uh... I don't really know.  Like I don't like, remember."

Christine shook her head.  She pulled her purse out of her bag and quickly pulled out a twenty dollar bill.

"Here, twenty bucks if you just tell me where he is."

Weasel reached out to grab the bill but she pulled it away.  Any passersby watching this absurd situation probably thought she was his older sister.  Like Weasel, she had dark brown hair that was slightly curled near the ends.  She was also skinny and somewhat tall, especially with her heels on.

"He's like at the uh... what's it called.  The place with the books."  He answered.

"The bookstore?"  She asked as she tilted her head.

"No, you know, with like, the free books.  He's layin' low."

Christine raised an eyebrow.  "The library?"

"Oh!  Yeah, that's it."

She shook her head and gave him the bill.  "Don't you dare tell him to run away."

"Like, nah.  If we really ain't in trouble..."

Christine nodded.  "No one is in trouble."

Christine rushed to her car and hopped in.  The library was only a couple minutes away.  She wasn't sure why Maurice was at the library.  Part of her wondered if Weasel was making it up to make some money.  Regardless, she sped off, weaving through traffic and avoiding any possible speed traps.

Once she arrived at the library she rushed out, running as fast as she could in her heels.  She took a deep breath to calm herself as she reached the front door.  After a brief pause, she smoothed out her clothes, ran her fingers through her hair and headed in.  Her eyes quickly moved through the area, looking for Maurice.  She began walking through the aisles and towards the back, where the sofas were located.  Unsurprisingly, Maurice was on the sofa, his head laid back, eyes closed.  She rushed over and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Maurice."  She whispered.

Maurice opened his eyes and woke up startled.  "Whoa, what the shit?!"  He yelled.

The other patrons in the library glared at him as he settled back on the sofa.

"Oh hey Mrs. B.  Weasel texted that you were lookin' for me.  What's up?"  He asked, oblivious to the fact that his voice travelled through the entire library.

Christine cursed under her breath.  "Damn Weasel... We need to talk.  Outside.  And keep your voice down, you're in a library."

Maurice shook his head.  "Sorry but I gotta stay like low.  There might be like some guys lookin' for me.  We can just talk here."  He whispered back.

"Outside.  Now."  She ordered as she hit his shoulder.

He reluctantly stood up and followed Christine out of the library.  He made sure to flick off an old man who had been glaring at him.  When the two were outside, he kept looking around, flinching.

"I saw you jumping out of that meth lab."  She said.

"What?  Like damn Mrs. B.  What happened to like askin' how I'm doing and shit like dat?"  He responded.

"I don't have time for small chat.  What do you know about meth?"  She asked.

"Like nothing.  It wasn't me hoppin' outta da house."

"You're not in trouble Maurice.  I need to know if you know how to make it."  She said as she tapped her foot.

"Make it?  What?  Like why?  You a user?"  He asked.

"I need money.  Lots of it and fast."  She replied.

Maurice laughed.  "Like, so do I."

"This isn't a god damn joke.  My husband has cancer.  We can't afford the therapy on my shitty teacher's salary."

"Oh whoa.  Fuck... Sorry to hear Mrs. B.  But like, making meth and sellin' it are two different things yo.  And like I just kinda know da basics.  I was more of like da tester."  He explained.

"But you know the basics?"  She inquired.

"Yeah, it's just like a bit of dis and dat, y'know?"

"No.  That's why I need you.  You tell me the basics.  Chemistry will do the rest."

Maurice nodded and scratched his chin.  "But uh... like, how you going to like distribute dis shit?"

"Who did you sell to?"

"Like, friends yo.  We couldn't sell on da streets cause da other dealers."

Christine nodded and crossed her arms.

“And where do those dealers get their meth from?”  She asked.

Maurice shrugged.  “Shit, I dunno, Mexico?”

Christine nodded again.  “Ok, you’re coming with me.  You’re going to teach me what I need to know.  Then, you’re going to get me in contact with a dealer.  After that, you’re going to work your way up to the head boss and see if he needs a new, more local, American made supplier.”

Maurice shook his head.  “Damn Mrs. B, when did you decide you were gonna be becoming bad?  And why I gotta do all dis?  What I get outta dis?  I mean, I’m like, riskin’ my life and shit.”

“Risking your life?  What?  Okay, fine, you just teach me, give me the name of the dealer and I’ll do what I need to.  Just understand that any money you’ll be receiving will be substantially cut.”  Christine replied impatiently.

“So, like how much money we talkin’ about?”

“I’ll give you ten percent”

Maurice looked around and shook his head again.  “That’s like, way too little.  How bout like fifty percent?”

Christine laughed.  “Half?  For doing what?  I’ll go fifteen, tops.”

Maurice crossed his arms and thought it over.  He didn’t have much to lose but a lot to gain out of this deal.  He paced around for a bit and finally nodded.  “Deal.”

“Okay, so what do we need?”

The remainder of the day seemed to go by relatively quick.  Christine had to continuously badger Maurice to keep feeding information.  He was in no real rush but Christine was on a separate time schedule.  By the time she had gotten all the materials, calculated the chemical reactions required and the timing needed, the day had passed by.

Christine headed back home afterwards, her mind constantly thinking of places to set up the place to make the meth.  The smell alone would tip off her husband’s brother, the DEA agent.  She needed a large place, but a desolate, empty place.  Her eyes lit up as she remembered a little cabin out in the woods that had been abandoned for years.  While growing up, she played there but eventually forgot about it.

She pulled out her cell phone as she parked her car in her garage and punched in some numbers.  “Maurice?”

“Uh yeah.  Who dis?”

“It’s Christine Brown.”

“Oh hey Mrs. B.  So like, I can get in touch with my dealer, like, by next week and stuff so...”

“No, in the next two days.  I’ll have a batch ready by tomorrow night.  I need to meet and see how I can distribute ASAP.”

“Whoa, like damn, yo.  I need like a rest.  That knowledge dump was like, super tiring.”  Maurice replied.

“As.  Soon.  As.  Possible.”  Christine replied slowly while gritting her teeth.

She hung up and headed inside the home.  The next morning couldn’t come soon enough.

“Honey, I need to go out to meet some friends this morning.”  Christine said as she woke her husband up.

He groaned as a reply and Christine rushed off.  She needed to get the materials she needed and had to rush to the cabin afterwards.  She had a busy day ahead of her and she needed to move fast.  If she had calculated everything correctly, she’d be done by the night and have samples ready for both Maurice and the dealer.  Her phone rang as she raced through the roads.

“Yes?”  She answered.

“Yo, Mrs. B.  My dealer be ready for you tomorrow night.  That good?”  Maurice responded.

“Perfect.  I’ll call you back tonight when I’m done.”  She replied.

The day seemed to speed by as Christine sped through her process.  It was as if she was in a time portal, watching as time seemed to slow to a crawl around her.  There were parts of tough, hard, labor, but she got through it.  If she had calculated it correctly, her drug would be nearly one hundred percent perfect.

As the sun fell into the horizon and the night began to take over, her process had finished.  She waited until her version of meth had dried and hardened.  It had a beautiful blue tint to it, caused by a chemical reaction.  With one gloved fist, she broke the sheet into several pieces.  Placing them into a small container, she cleaned up her lab and hid everything within the cabin.

She rushed back home, making sure to hide the container full of meth where her spare tire was.  By the time she got home, her husband was already in bed.  No one could have been the wiser as to her whereabouts.  She kissed him quickly on the lips and lay beside him.  It was hard to sleep but she had to.

The soft vibrations of her phone woke her up, her little silent alarm of sorts.  She quietly got up and gently hopped out of bed.  This was the last day of her weekend and she had to make it count.  She hurriedly rushed out and hopped in her car.  If she was fast enough, she would be able to make another bag full of her meth.  Before she had a chance to head out, the phone rang.

“Maurice?”  She asked.

“Yeah Mrs. B.  So like, change of plans.  Dealer doesn’t really like trust me.  We uh... had a falling out.”

“What?!”  Christine shouted into her phone.

“Whoa, like hold on Mrs. B.  Don’t mean he won’t trust you.  I told him you could like, meet him and I won’t be there.  I’d be like, y’know, waitin’ on your call.  I don’t get a call from you, I call da police.”  He replied.

Christine shook her head, frustrated.  “Is it still tonight?”

“So... like, he has plans for tonight.  But he’s ready this afternoon.  He’s over in da projects.  You’ll see him on the corner of A street and fourth.”  Maurice said.  “If you see a tall black dude, wearing like, a red baseball cap and a red jersey, it’ll be him.  Just say Maurice sent you.”  He continued.

There was a moment of silence as Christine processed the information.  “Fine.  I’ll be there this afternoon.”

She hung up angrily and headed to the cabin.  Christine could have tried to get a weapon, but she knew that they would probably search her.  Better to be trusted than not, she thought.  Her hands trembled as she drove.  This was going to be a more interesting day than she had hoped for.

As the afternoon blaze hit, Christine rushed off into the projects.  Her little hybrid stuck out like a sore thumb in the dirtied neighborhoods.  As if on schedule, she saw the tall, lanky black man pacing around, wearing a bright red cap and a matching jersey with baggy shorts hanging off his knees.  She drove by and opened the window.

“Maurice sent me.”  She said.

The black man squinted and nodded.  “Follow me.”

He walked down the street towards a house.  It looked decent compared to the other broken homes around it.  He pointed to the driveway and headed to the porch.  There were two other black men standing at the doorway, both large and muscular.  Christine gulped and parked her car, wondering if she had made the wrong decision.

She opened her door and hopped out, making sure every button on her white blouse was buttoned up and that her blue skirt was straightened.  She had black pantyhose on underneath, coupled with a black thong.  Her open toed heels completed her outfit.

Considering the area she was in, she might have been thought of as a hooker.  She had an athletic background from back in her college days.  She used to be a cross country runner and her well toned, smooth legs showed that they had not been forgotten.  Even now, she liked to jog and keep in shape.  As she approached the porch, she could feel the steely gaze of each black man, eyeing her shapely body up and down.

“You da hookup?”  The tall black man asked.

Christine nodded nervously.  She had taken a few samples out of the container early and had placed them in a small plastic bag.  Her hands shook as she raised the plastic bag up.

“A sample.”  She said.

One of the big muscular black men took the bag and placed it in his pocket.  The other large black man walked around and behind her.

“We gotta pat you down.  Normal procedure and shit.”  The tall black man said.

The large black man behind her began patting her body, making sure to take extra time around her breasts and ass.  Christine felt uncomfortable but she could put up with it.  His powerful hands wrapped around her legs and moved upward, feeling every inch of her pantyhose covered legs.  For a brief moment, his fingers passed by her crotch, giving a squeeze as he passed by.

“No weapons.”  The muscular black man said.

The tall black man nodded.  “Okay, we is gonna take you inside.  You only speak when spoken to the minute you inside.”

Christine nodded.  “And if Maurice doesn’t hear back from me...”

The tall black man shrugged.  “As long as you isn’t a cop, he be hearin’ from you.”

The black men escorted her inside the house.  The interior was in worse condition than the exterior.  Dry walls with holes in them, broken doors, shattered windows and bits of water leaking from the roof.  They reached a large room where a big sofa, a couple of chairs and a television resided.  In the middle of the sofa was a fat black man, sitting and smoking a pipe.

“She a cop?”  He bellowed out.

The tall black man shook his head.  “No guns.”

“Fuck.  Is you stupid?  Wires!”  The fat black man shouted out.

“Oh shit.”  The tall black man replied.  He turned and faced Christine.

“You is gonna have to open up that shirt.  We need to be sure you ain’t got no wire.”  He informed her.

“I don’t have a wire.  I’m not a cop.”  She replied.

“You gotta or he ain’t gonna meet.”  The tall black man replied.

Christine glared at the tall black man, then the fat black man on the sofa.  She muttered a curse on her breath as she undid her buttons.  She opened up her blouse, revealing her black lacy bra underneath.

“Damn, you fine...”  The fat black man uttered.

“I’m not a cop.”  She repeated.

The fat black man nodded and pointed to a nearby chair.  Christine calmly walked by while buttoning her blouse and sat.  She crossed her legs as the fat black man stared at her.

“So... you’re the cook?”  He asked.

“I am the cook.  And you’re the dealer?”  She replied.

“Nah, I don’t do the dealin’.  I do the management.  I go by the name Big Joe.  That there is my dealer, Trevon.  Those two muscle heads are Darnell and Terrance.”  Big Joe informed her.

Christine nodded.  “You can call me Rousseau.”  She responded.

Big Joe shrugged.  “I ain’t carin’ bout your name.  You be my cook.  Now, let me see some of dat shit.”

The large muscular man who had taken her bag handed it over to Big Joe.  Joe raised it to the air and stared at it, marveling at it.  He took a small piece out and examined it even further.

“Why is it blue?  This a Chinese knock off or some shit?”  He asked.

“No, this is American made.  It’s a result of a chemical reaction.”  She answered.

Big Joe nodded as he tossed it to the big man silently standing beside Trevon.  “Terrance, go test that shit.”

Terrance nodded and walked off.  Silence filled the air as Terrance took his time.  For a moment, [...]