The Bull
by Mario Senzale
Horrific Scribes Extremity Rating:
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story examines power dynamics in the “bull/cuckold” subculture. It’s horror because it takes these dynamics to their extreme. The protagonist enters what looks like a transaction where he holds power, but the story reveals who really has control. The story is deliberately meta: it gives you explicit content but forces you to confront what you’re consuming and your complicity as a reader. The protagonist gets what he came for but is forced to confront what he’s consuming and his assigned role within these dynamics. At its heart, it’s an allegory of the USA. All this slavery shit happened. It’s still happening. Where do we go from here? The story refuses to simplify contradictions into a neat morality.
I
Bryant’s phone buzzed against the wobbly table at Zaxby’s. DeShawn was mid-story, hands moving like he was conducting the world’s dirtiest symphony.
“So I got shawty bent over the sink, right? Mirror all fogged. She lookin’ back at me like—”
“Man, we eatin’,” Malik said, throwing a chicken tender into the plate.
“What? Y’all asked!”
Bryant scrolled through his feed, half-listening. DeShawn always had a story. Malik always pretended to be scandalized, but he loved it.
“Yo, B.” DeShawn leaned across the table. “When’s the last time you got some pink?”
Bryant didn’t look up.
“That long, huh? My boy’s in a drought.”
“Bro,” Bryant said, looking up from his phone.
DeShawn grabbed a fry off Bryant’s tray. “Nigga, you twenty-one. Get ya face out the screen. You supposed to be out there, dickin’ down. What you waitin’ for?”
“The right one.”
“For reals?” DeShawn looked at Malik. “Bro, that’s some Tyler Perry bullshit.”
Malik laughed. “B. How ‘bout some white pussy? They go wild for dark meat.”
The question hung there. DeShawn’s expression changed.
“Yo, don’t,” DeShawn said.
“What?”
“Don’t tell him to do that shit, man,” DeShawn said, his voice flat. “White girls be cray cray.”
“Not all of ‘em,” Malik said.
“Enough of ‘em. For reals. See that shawty over there?” He pointed with his eyebrows to a blonde girl sitting two booths from theirs. “We raw-doggin’, and she asked me to nut inside.”
“That’s bullshit,” Malik said, lowering his head. “You didn’t fuck that ho.”
“Don’t believe me?” He gave the blonde girl a slight nod. She blushed and looked away.
“Oh fuck,” Malik laughed, almost falling from his seat. “My man.”
DeShawn nodded. Bryant smiled and kept scrolling. Shawty was fine.
That night, Bryant found himself lying in bed, his phone light painting the popcorn ceiling. All that talk about nutting and hos took him down the trashy rabbit hole: from Tinder to /r/trashyboners, to Tryst, to /r/breedingmaterial, /r/dirtyr4r, and finally /r/breedingr4r.
24 [M4F] #Slovenia, Ljubljana,
25 [M4F] #Arizona #Phoenix Black bull bodybuilder with one success so far, addicted to breeding now
34 [M4F] #Vancouver Experienced BWC Breeder For Kink Play Or Donor
These guys were jacked.
25 [F4M] #Fort Wayne, Indiana – Let’s start a family,
Mixed girl, cute ass, no face.
32 [F4M] #Boston – PAWG looking for big, black cock
Nice bod, good rack.
28 [FM4M] #Karns, Tennessee white cuckold couple looking for a black bull. Hubby likes to watch. Serious inquiries. NO CONDOMS.
Three photos. No face. A woman’s body, pale, soft. Thick thighs, wide hips, lower back tattoo. In the last photo, on a cork board behind her, polaroids, notes, and, partially visible, red and blue crossed bars that could be… nah.
21 [M4F] #Bochum #Germany I want my legacy to be born by black women
33 [M4F] #Chicago – Confidant and experienced bull ready to breed your girlfriend or wife properly
He swiped up. #Karns. That’s not far. She was thick in all the right places. Leg press and avocados. He swiped left. Was that a confederate flag? The rational part of his brain said close the app, jerk off, call it a night. But DeShawn was right. He was in a drought. And pussy was fire. But also, white girls be cray cray. White cuckold couple. That sounds like some gay shit. Hubby likes to watch. Guess it ain’t gay if he don’t touch me.
His index finger hovered over the message button.
BigDickLebron: 🍆Black Bull Near Knoxville. Can travel.
Pic attached. A dick. Black.
He hit send before he could stop. The response came in four minutes.
TennesseeHotwife98: 💦😈 10 PM. Address below. Door’s unlocked. Come upstairs. Don’t be late.
Bryant read it three times. Shit was whack. He thought about going to xvideos and calling it a night. Back to the pics. Fuck it. He took a bath. The fine soap. Dr. Squatch. Azzaro Wanted. 9:37 PM, he was in the car.
Delta 8. Bud Light. 2.98 gas. Trump signs. He drove with the cell phone in the cupholder, following the GPS through parks and suburbs. 10:07 PM. Single family home. Vinyl-sided, pale yellow under a single porch light. A red Silverado in the driveway, Back the Blue sticker on the bumper. A concrete deer, American flag on the left, Tennessee flag on the right. Bryant parked next to the truck. The house looked normal. Not what he imagined a cuckold’s home would look like. He got out. Each step felt weird. Adrenaline kicking in. At the door, he paused. Should I knock? He put his hand on the knob. Brass keypad. Turned it. Worked.
II
Inside: gray walls, a wooden coffee table with junk on it, big flat screen TV playing Love Island on mute. Pinecone potpourri. A crucifix above the couch. Normal stuff. Bryant climbed the stairs. Creak, creak, creak. He slowed down. Second floor: bathroom, bedroom, open door. Fuck me. White duvet. Girl on all fours. Pale skin. Blonde hair. Black negligee. Stockings. No thong.
“You’re late.”
“Sorry, ma’am.”
Bryant froze in the doorway. She was thick. Hot. Just like the post. But her face. Bro. An angel ho.
“So? Are you gonna come in?”
Bryant stepped inside. He unbuttoned his shirt, hands fumbling. Pulled off his tee, then his pants. Rushed to the bed in his CKs and socks. The girl arched her back. He grabbed her hips, took his dick out, and pushed inside. Warm and tight. She moaned loud. He watched his dick, hard, disappearing into her. Her ass, that tramp stamp. She smelled nice, like Dove and pussy. He kept pounding, then looked around. Light spilling from the hallway. Vanity desk, mirror, armoire. A cork board on the wall. Polaroids, notes, a confederate flag. White girls be cray cray. But pussy was tight.
“Let me clean it.”
She turned around, took his dick in her mouth, left hand on balls. Barely fit, but she worked it. He closed his eyes. Oh man. Creak, creak, creak. What’s that? He tried to ignore it. Put his hand on the girl’s head. Creak, creak, creak. He opened his eyes. A shadow against the light. Pointed. He froze. Turned his head. White robe. Pointed hood. Two eyeholes.
“Jesus—” Bryant scrambled back. He almost fell from the bed. His hands went up instinctively. The figure didn’t move. Just stood there.
“Baby, baby, it’s okay.” The woman walked towards Bryant, reaching. “It’s okay. That’s my husband.”
Bryant was hyperventilating. He stared at the hood. “–da fuck?”
“He just likes to watch. That’s all. I promise. He won’t get in the way. He just… he can’t get off unless he sees us.”
The hood tilted slightly. Then, it walked to a chair in the corner. It sat in the dark. Folded its hands in its lap. Bryant looked at the woman. At the hood. At the door.
“This some Kanye bullshit. I’m sorry lady, you’re nice and all but—”
“Baby, no.” Her hand found his thigh. “You drove all this way. And we were having such a good time.” Her fingers moved higher. “Stay. Please.” He looked at her. Take-to-meet-your-momma cute. But this, whatever’s this shit was, this wasn’t cute.
“I should go.”
“Please, bae. He’s not gonna do anything. Look.” She gestured at the hood. “He’s just sitting there. He just wants to watch. That’s it. I swear.”
“That’s a fucking KKK hood!”
“It’s just cosplay, baby. Raceplay. He’s a cuckold bitch. He gets turned on by seeing black bulls use his property.” Bryant’s heart was collapsing. His dick hadn’t gotten the memo. The hood made a hand gesture. Continue. “See?” Her hand wrapped around his arm. “He wants you to fuck me. Please, baby. Please. You’re so big. So strong. We were having a good time.”
Bryant looked at her. Hotter than the girl from Zaxby’s. Pretty features, pleading face. He looked at his own arm. Dark against her skin. But the hood was there. White girls be cray cray.
“U promise he won’t do shit?”
“I promise, baby. He’ll just watch. That’s all. I swear on everything.”
He saw her biting the right side of her lower lip. Looking at him. At his dick.
“Fuck it,” he heard himself say. Her face lit up.
III
She pulled him back to the bed, wrapped her legs around him. He leaned over. She kissed him. He kept his eyes open. Kept glancing at the corner. The hood watched. She grabbed Bryant’s dick with both hands, moved it in circles against her clit, and then placed it inside.
“You’re so big, baby.”
Bryant moved. His body knew what to do even if his mind had left the building. The state. His mind moved to California and became a day-trader. Got some kids and a dog. All jokes aside, he was alert. This was fucked.
As he kept thrusting into her, the hood leaned forward slightly in the chair, trying to get a better view. He could feel the hood’s eyes on his back. On his ass. She grabbed his face, forced him to look at her.
“Fuck me.”
She made eye contact. Strong. He kept thrusting, feeling it build. Pussy was tight. Face was fire. She locked her legs around him, pulled him deeper. He felt himself getting closer. Getting swollen.
“That’s it baby, that’s it.”
She took his dick out and kneeled in the bed. He turned and kneeled too, his back to her. She reached around, jerking him off and caressing his chest. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment.
“Just let it happen. You’re so close. I can feel it, baby. Let it go.”
Bryant felt it building. Her grip tightened. The rhythm quickened. He started to cum. A lot.
“Oh shit. Oh fuck.”
“Yes baby. Good boy. Good boy.”
Bryant opened his eyes, his body twitching. He looked down, and there he saw. A white face, maybe fifty, white beard, full hair. Hood down, robe on. Licking the cum off his lips.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuu—“
Bryant grabbed his pants and ran down the stairs. Shirtless. He got in the car, put it in reverse, and got the fuck away from that shit. His hands shook, his dick still hard. He drove five minutes and pulled over. A closed mart. He sat in the dark, his hands on the wheel, trying to make sense of what the fuck…
IV
Twenty minutes later, he arrived home. Quiet. Two bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen combo. He dropped his keys in the bowl by the door, grabbed a bottle of water and walked to the bathroom. Turned the shower as hot as it would go. Got in before it warmed up. He scrubbed. Dr. Squatch. Everywhere. He could still smell her stank. White girl pussy mixed with cum. It was in his nose, his pores, his balls. He kind of zoned out, focusing on the scrubbing. When he finally got out, the bathroom was thick with steam. He dried off. Put on boxers and a white tee. Walked to the kitchen, opened the cabinet, pulled out the Frosted Flakes, poured a bowl. Added yogurt. Took it to the dining table and ate. He stared at the wall. At the light switch. At the cross-stitch that said, “Bless This Mess.”
He heard a door open. Tap, tap, tap. His grandma appeared in the doorway in her nightgown and robe. Bonnet. Her eyes squinting against the kitchen light.
“Bri, what u doin’ up so late?”
“Just eatin’, Grams. Go back to bed.”
She shuffled closer. He could feel her looking at him.
“U okay?”
“I’m good, Grams. Go back to bed.”
She stood there for a moment. Then moved to the sink, filled a glass with water, and shuffled back toward her room. “Don’t stay up too late. It’s a school day.”
“I won’t, Grams. I won’t.”
She closed the door. Bryant sat there, spoon in hand. He cleaned the remains, put the bowl on the sink, and went to bed. Put the phone on the nightstand and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. His phone lit up.
TennesseeHotwife98: We had fun! Same time next week? 👅💦
He could block her. Delete the app. Pretend it never happened. But shawty was tight. An angel ho. He put the phone face-down. Closed his eyes. He just needed to sleep. White girls be cray cray. Da fuck.