PIE at the Alter Story

Chapter 1

The church was filled with the scent of fresh flowers and the soft hum of whispered prayers. The grand stained-glass windows cast a kaleidoscope of colors onto the polished wooden pews, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. Sara stood at the altar, her heart pounding in her chest. She wore a white wedding dress that clung to her curves, accentuating her trim waist and large DD breasts. Her pixie cut, a cascade of curly red hair, framed her face perfectly. She looked radiant, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
John, her fiancé, stood beside her, his boyish face beaming with love and nervous excitement. He was a small man, barely reaching 5 feet 3 inches, with medium-length brown hair and a physique that was more delicate than muscular. His tiny white dick was hidden beneath his tailored suit, but it didn't matter; Sara loved him for who he was, not what he had.
The priest cleared his throat, ready to begin the ceremony. "Dearly beloved," he began, but before he could continue, the heavy wooden doors at the back of the church swung open with a loud creak. Everyone turned to see who had entered, their curiosity piqued.
A tall, imposing figure stepped into the light. Tyrone was a mountain of muscle, standing at 6 feet 6 inches with a body that seemed chiseled from stone. His dark skin glistened under the church lights, and his presence commanded attention. He wore a simple black suit that strained against his massive frame, and his eyes were cold and calculating. But it was his cock that drew the most attention—a massive fourteen-inch Big Black Cock that hung heavily between his legs, a testament to his virility.
Sara's breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of him. She had heard whispers about the Permanent Incarceration Exchange (PIE) program, a social justice initiative that traded a White man with no jail sentence for a Black man who was incarcerated. The White man would serve the Black man's sentence, taking on all responsibility for his crimes, while the Black man would be given a fresh start in life, taking over the White man's assets and family. It was a radical idea, one that John had always been passionate about, but Sara had never imagined it would happen to them.
John stepped forward, his voice trembling but resolute. "Tyrone," he said, his eyes meeting the larger man's, "I am here to take your place."
Tyrone's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Are you sure about that, little man?" he asked, his deep voice resonating through the church.
John nodded, his resolve unwavering. "I believe in the superiority of the Black race," he said, his voice gaining strength. "I want to do my part to make things right."
Sara felt a wave of confusion wash over her. This was not how she had envisioned her wedding day. She had always known John supported social justice, but this? This was something else entirely. She looked at John, searching his eyes for answers, but all she saw was love and devotion.
"John," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What is happening?"
John turned to her, his expression softening. "Sara, I know this is hard to understand, but I believe this is the right thing to do. Tyrone will take my place, and I will serve his sentence. You will marry him, and he will take care of you."
Sara's mind raced. She had always trusted John, believed in his goodness. But this? This was too much. She looked at Tyrone, at the sheer size of him, at the way his massive cock strained against his pants. She felt a strange mix of fear and arousal, a sensation she had never experienced before.
Before she could respond, two PIE agents stepped forward, their expressions stern. One of them placed a pair of handcuffs around John's wrists, securing them tightly. John winced but did not resist. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at Sara one last time.
"I love you, Sara," he said, his voice breaking. "I always will."
Sara's heart ached as she watched him being led away, tears streaming down her cheeks. She wanted to run after him, to stop this madness, but something held her back. Maybe it was the look in John's eyes, the absolute certainty that this was the right thing to do. Or maybe it was the way Tyrone stood so confidently beside her, his presence overwhelming and intoxicating.
Tyrone reached out and gently wiped away her tears with his thumb. "Don't cry, beautiful," he said, his voice low and soothing. "Everything is going to be alright."
Sara looked up at him, her eyes wide with uncertainty. "How can you say that?" she asked, her voice trembling. "John is... he's..."
"He's doing the right thing," Tyrone interrupted, his tone firm. "And so are you. You will be my wife now, and I will take care of you. You won't regret this, Sara."
Sara swallowed hard, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She had always been naive and trusting, but this? This was beyond anything she had ever imagined. She looked at Tyrone, at the way his muscles rippled under his suit, at the bulge in his pants that seemed to pulse with life. She felt a strange pull, a desire she couldn't explain.
Tyrone leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Do you trust me, Sara?" he asked, his voice a seductive whisper.
Sara hesitated, her heart racing. She had trusted John with everything, but this was different. This was new. And yet, there was something about Tyrone, something powerful and irresistible.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I trust you."
Tyrone smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Good," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Because from now on, you belong to me."
Sara felt a shiver run down her spine as Tyrone wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the hardness of his muscles pressing against her. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and anticipation.
"Now," Tyrone said, his voice commanding, "let's get married."
The priest, who had been watching the entire exchange with a mixture of shock and awe, quickly regained his composure. "Dearly beloved," he began again, his voice steady. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of Tyrone and Sara..."
As the ceremony continued, Sara's mind drifted. She thought of John, of the love they had shared, and the life they had planned together. But now, that life was gone, replaced by something new, something unknown. She looked at Tyrone, at the way his massive cock pressed against his pants, and felt a strange thrill. This was her new reality, and she wasn't sure if she was ready for it.
But as Tyrone's lips met hers in a searing kiss, all thoughts of John faded away. She was his now, and she knew deep down that this was where she was meant to be.

Chapter 2

Tyrone led Sara out of the church, his hand firmly gripping hers. The cool evening air brushed against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. The world outside seemed different now, more vibrant, more alive. She glanced back at the church one last time, the stained-glass windows glowing with an otherworldly light, and then she turned her attention to the man beside her.
Tyrone's presence was commanding, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her. He walked with purpose, his muscles rippling under his suit as he guided her towards a sleek black car waiting at the curb. The driver, a large burly black man with a stern expression, opened the door for them, and Tyrone helped Sara inside before sliding in beside her.
As the car pulled away from the church, Sara felt a sense of unease settle over her. This was her new reality, and it was both thrilling and terrifying. She glanced at Tyrone, who sat beside her with an air of confidence, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.
Sara nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure if she was telling the truth. "I... I think so," she replied, her voice trembling slightly.
Tyrone reached out and placed his hand on her thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Everything is going to be alright," he said, his tone reassuring. "You're safe with me."
Sara looked at him, her heart racing. There was something about his touch, something that made her feel both vulnerable and protected. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and leaned into his embrace.
The car drove through the city, passing by familiar landmarks that seemed foreign now. Sara watched the world go by, her mind a whirl of emotions. She thought of John, of the life they had planned together, and felt a pang of guilt. But as she looked at Tyrone, at the way his muscles strained against his suit, at the bulge in his pants that seemed to pulse with life, she felt a strange pull, a desire she couldn't explain.
After what felt like an eternity, the car finally came to a stop in front of a large, modern house. The exterior was sleek and minimalist, with large glass windows that reflected the setting sun. Tyrone stepped out of the car first, then helped Sara out. She stood beside him, taking in the sight of their new home.
"Welcome to our new life," Tyrone said, his voice filled with pride.
Sara nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. This was it. This was her new beginning.
Tyrone led her up the steps and unlocked the front door, ushering her inside. The interior of the house was just as modern as the exterior, with high ceilings, polished hardwood floors, and floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the golden light of the late afternoon. The air smelled faintly of fresh paint and new furniture, a scent that mingled with the faint aroma of flowers from the garden outside.
Sara followed Tyrone through the house, her eyes wide with wonder. The living room was spacious and open, with a large sectional sofa and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The kitchen was state-of-the-art, with stainless steel appliances and a marble island that gleamed under the pendant lights.
"This place is amazing," Sara breathed, her voice filled with awe.
Tyrone smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "It's just the beginning," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Come, there's something I want to show you."
He led her upstairs, to the master bedroom. The room was even larger than she had imagined, with a king-sized bed covered in luxurious linens and a massive walk-in closet that could easily fit all of her clothes. But it was the en suite bathroom that caught her attention.
The bathroom was a sanctuary, with a large soaking tub set in the center of the room, surrounded by candles and rose petals. A rain shower head hung from the ceiling, and the walls were lined with mirrors that reflected the soft light. The air was filled with the scent of lavender and vanilla, a calming fragrance that did little to ease her nerves.
Tyrone closed the door behind them, locking it with a click. He turned to face her, his eyes dark with desire. "This is where we begin our new life together," he said, his voice low and seductive.
"I will say your wimp had great taste. He knew that this was happening and spent a large part of his inheritance to set me up in a proper estate to breed my new wife" Tyrone chuckled evilly.
Sara swallowed hard, her heart racing. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the hardness of his muscles pressing against her. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and anticipation.
"What... what do you want from me?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Tyrone smiled, a slow, predatory grin that sent shivers down her spine. "I want everything," he said, his voice dripping with lust. "And you're going to give it to me."
He reached out and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her lips. "Do you trust me, Sara?" he asked, his voice a seductive whisper.
Sara hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. She had trusted John with everything, but this was different. This was new. And yet, there was something about Tyrone, something powerful and irresistible.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I trust you."
Tyrone's smile widened, a look of satisfaction crossing his face. "Good," he said, his voice dripping with pleasure. "Because from now on, you belong to me, you are mine to use as I please."
With that, he leaned in and captured her lips in a searing kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, exploring every inch with a hunger that left her breathless. Sara moaned into his mouth, her body responding to his touch despite her fears.
Tyrone's hands roamed over her body, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts. He unzipped the back of her wedding dress, letting it fall to the floor in a pool of white fabric. Sara stood before him in nothing but her lacy underwear, her body trembling with anticipation.
"You're so beautiful," Tyrone murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So perfect."
He knelt before her, his hands sliding up her thighs, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. With a slow, deliberate motion, he peeled them down, exposing her glistening core to his gaze. Sara gasped, her breath catching in her throat as she felt the cool air against her skin.
Tyrone's eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight of her. "Spread your legs," he commanded, his voice firm.
Sara obeyed, her legs trembling as she parted them. Tyrone's fingers traced the delicate folds of her sex, his touch light and teasing. Sara bit her lip, trying to stifle a moan, but it escaped her anyway.
"That's it," Tyrone purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Let me hear you."
His fingers delved deeper, probing her wetness with expert precision. Sara's head fell back, her body arching in response to his touch. She could feel the tension building within her, a coil of pleasure that threatened to explode.
"Please," she begged, her voice hoarse with need. "Please, Tyrone."
Tyrone smirked, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Not yet," he said, his voice low and commanding. "First, I want to taste you."
With that, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to her swollen clit. Sara cried out, her body convulsing as his tongue delved into her depths. He licked and sucked with a fervor that left her breathless, his fingers moving in tandem with his mouth.
Sara's mind went blank, her thoughts consumed by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. She could feel the orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatened to drown her.
"Tyrone," she gasped, her voice trembling. "I'm... I'm..."
"Close," he finished for her, his voice a dark promise. "Alright Sara. you may cum now."
With a cry of ecstasy, Sara surrendered to the waves of pleasure, her body convulsing as she climaxed. Her vision blurred, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the orgasm. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced, a mind-blowing, earth-shattering release that left her trembling and weak.
Tyrone continued to lap at her sensitive flesh, drawing out her pleasure until she was a quivering mess in his arms. When he finally lifted his head, Sara was panting, her body slick with sweat and arousal.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Now, it is time to serve your Master."
He stood up, his massive black cock straining against his pants. Sara's eyes widened as she took in the sheer size of him, her heart pounding in her chest. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor. His huge cock sprang free, standing erect and proud, the head glistening with pre-cum.
Sara's breath caught in her throat as she stared at him, her body trembling with anticipation. Tyrone stepped closer, his cock brushing against her stomach as he positioned himself between her legs.
"Ready?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.
Sara nodded, her voice lost to her as she gazed up at him. Tyrone smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes, and then he thrust forward, burying his massive cock deep inside her.
Sara screamed, her body convulsing as she felt the full extent of his girth. It was painful, almost too much to bear, but there was also a thrill, a sense of completion that she had never felt before.
Tyrone began to move, his hips pumping with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through her body, mingling with the lingering remnants of her orgasm. Sara's nails dug into his shoulders, her body arching in response to his touch.
"That's it," Tyrone growled, his voice thick with lust. "Take it, Sara. Take all of me."
Sara's mind went blank, her thoughts consumed by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. She could feel the orgasm building again, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatened to drown her.
"Tyrone," she gasped, her voice trembling. "I'm... I'm..."
"Wait," he finished for her, his voice a dark promise. Moments later he commanded"Cum, bitch, cum on my Big Black Cock."
With a cry of ecstasy, Sara surrendered to the waves of pleasure, her body convulsing as she climaxed once more. Her vision blurred, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the orgasm. She was dizzy and shaking after experiencing an incredible and revolutionary climax that was beyond anything she had ever thought possible.
Tyrone continued to thrust into her, his pace quickening as he approached his own release. Sara clung to him, her body writhing in ecstasy as he pounded into her with relentless *****.
"Fuck," Tyrone growled, his voice rough with desire. "I'm gonna come, Sara. I'm gonna fill you up."
Sara's breath caught in her throat as she felt his cock twitch inside her, the sensation sending another wave of pleasure crashing through her body. She could feel his hot seed filling her, spilling deep within her as he emptied himself into her.
Tyrone collapsed on top of her, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Sara wrapped her arms around him, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She could feel his heartbeat against her chest, strong and steady, and for the first time since the ceremony, she felt a sense of peace.
"Tyrone," she whispered, her voice filled with wonder. "I... I don't know what to say."
Tyrone lifted his head, his eyes dark with satisfaction. "You don't have to say anything," he said, his voice low and soothing. "Just rest, beautiful. You've earned it. We'll go again in few hours."
Sara nodded, her eyes drifting shut as exhaustion overtook her. As she drifted off to *****, she felt a strange sense of contentment, a feeling that this was where she was meant to be.
Meanwhile, in a stark, bare cell, John sat on a cold metal bench, his wrists still cuffed. The PIE agents had left him alone, leaving him to contemplate his fate. The cell was small and cramped, with no windows and only a thin mattress on the floor. The air was stale, filled with the faint scent of mildew and despair.
John's mind raced, his thoughts consumed by Sara and the life they had planned together. He thought of her radiant smile, her sparkling eyes, and the way her body had felt beneath his hands. He felt a pang of jealousy as he imagined Tyrone touching her, making love to her. He fervently hoped that Sara would have a happy life and that Tyrone would have the opportunity to start a life, thanks to the spacious property he had invested a significant portion of his wealth on.
But as the hours passed, John's resolve hardened. He knew this was the right thing to do. He believed in the superiority of the Black race, and he wanted to do his part to make things right. He hoped that Tyrone would take care of Sara, that he would love her as much as John had.
As the days turned into weeks, John settled into his routine. He spent his days in the prison yard, playing chess and talking to the other PIE inmates. As the days passed, there appeared to be an unexpected increase in the number of PIE prisoners. The PIE effort was beginning to acquire traction. Being among the first in this prison made him pleased. He found solace in the camaraderie of the other white men, and the sense of brotherhood that came with serving time to his Black superiors.
But there were moments, late at night, when the loneliness crept in. He would lie on his thin mattress, staring at the ceiling, and think of Sara. He wondered if she was happy, if she was safe. He hoped that Tyrone was treating her well, that he was fulfilling the ideals of the program.
One night, as he lay awake, he heard footsteps approaching his cell. The door creaked open, and a tall figure stepped inside. John sat up, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Who's there?" he asked, his voice trembling.
The figure stepped into the dim light, revealing the face of one of the PIE agents. "I have a message for you," the agent said, his voice cold and detached.
John's heart skipped a beat. "A message? From who?"
The agent handed him a folded piece of paper. "From your former fiance," he said, his tone mocking.
John took the paper, his hands shaking as he unfolded it. Inside was a single sentence, written in Sara's handwriting:
"John, thank you. It was a tremendous sacrifice that you made. Tyrone exceeds your expectations beyond measure. He's decided it's time for me to have his babies. Thus, this will be my final communication with you. "
John's eyes filled with tears as he read the words. He clutched the note to his chest, his heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and relief. He knew that this was the right thing to do, that he had done the best thing for Sara.
But as he lay back down on his mattress, he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. He wondered what it would be like to hold Sara in his arms again, to feel her warmth against his skin. He wondered if he would ever get the chance.
As the days turned into months, John's resolve hardened even further. He concentrated on what he was learning and how he might contribute most to the emerging new civilization that held the Black man not the white at the pinnacle. He knew that one day, he would be released, and he would return to society to begin anew.
But for now, he served his time, stoically enduring the hardships of prison life. He thought of Sara often, of the life they had planned together, and of the new life she was building with Tyrone.
And as he lay in his cell, staring at the ceiling, he couldn't help but hope that one day, he would see her again.

The End
... for now