When Nabilah Met Zeke – Chapter 4

The weak morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting soft shadows across the marital bed where Nabilah lay tangled in the sheets. Her body was a map of the previous night’s debauchery — thighs sticky with dried cum, pussy and asshole still faintly throbbing from being stretched so thoroughly, her pale skin marked with faint handprints and hickeys hidden beneath the edge of her hijab. Every muscle ached in the most delicious way. She turned her head slowly and felt a deep, warm rush of contentment as she looked at Zeke’s massive, sleeping form beside her. His broad, steroid-enhanced chest rose and fell steadily, the dark muscles glistening slightly with leftover sweat. This man — this powerful, dominant black god — had completely changed her life in just a few days.

She pressed her soft, curvy body against his side, her heavy breasts squishing against his arm, and kissed his chest reverently. “Good morning, Master,” she whispered, her voice husky with sleep and lingering lust.

Zeke’s eyes opened. A slow, predatory smile spread across his face as one huge hand slid down her back and possessively cupped her fat, round ass, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp. “Morning, my beautiful little hijabi slut. How does that married cunt feel today?”

Nabilah bit her lip, blushing but unable to hide her smile. “Sore… stretched… full of your cum still leaking out of me. But I’ve never felt happier, Master. Knowing the truth about Abdul… it freed me. I don’t feel guilty anymore. I just feel owned. And I love it.”

Zeke pulled her on top of him, her naked body straddling his waist as his thick, semi-hard 15-inch cock nestled between her ass cheeks like a hot iron bar. He ran his hands up her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her heavy tits. “Good. Because today is the last day of your old life. My team is already on their way. When they get here, we’re setting up to take that terrorist piece of shit the moment he walks through the door.”

Nabilah shivered at the words, her pussy clenching involuntarily against his shaft. “Yes, Master… I’m ready.”

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They spent the next hour in the kitchen while she cooked breakfast — wearing nothing but a fresh black hijab and a thin, open-front abaya that Zeke had torn the buttons off earlier. Every time she bent over to reach something, he slapped her bare ass hard, leaving red handprints. Between bites, he laid down the rules for her future.

“You keep the modest look in public for now — full abaya, hijab, the whole pious Muslim wife act — until we disappear. At home with me, you’re naked or in slutty, easy-access versions only. You crawl when I tell you to. You keep those holes ready and dripping for me 24/7. You will thank me every time I cum in you. And you will never, ever speak to or think about that worthless husband again except to spit on his memory.”

Nabilah nodded eagerly, eyes shining with devotion as she dropped to her knees right there in the kitchen and kissed the head of his cock. “I understand, Master. This body, this cunt, this ass — they belong to you now. Completely.”

After breakfast she helped him one last time in Abdul’s office, carefully transferring the final files onto an encrypted drive. Every time she saw her husband’s name on a document, fresh disgust and anger surged through her, making her press her thighs together to stop the fresh gush of wetness leaking down her legs.

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The work was barely finished when Zeke’s phone buzzed. He read the message and grinned. “They’re here.”

Ten minutes later, three large black SUVs pulled up quietly in the driveway, hidden from the street by the high snow banks. Four men stepped out — all ex-military like Zeke, tall, heavily muscled, dark-skinned, and moving with the same lethal confidence. They carried duffel bags of gear and entered the house without a word, nodding respectfully to Zeke.

“Target’s ETA is four to six hours,” one of them reported, already scanning the house layout. “We’ll set up perimeter cameras, motion sensors on the doors, and a quiet takedown team in the basement. He won’t even know what hit him.”

Zeke introduced them casually to Nabilah, who stood there in her torn abaya, cheeks burning with a mix of shame and sudden, shameful arousal as all four men’s eyes raked over her barely-covered body.

“Boys, meet my new hijabi slut. Nabilah. She’s been very good these last few days.” Zeke’s hand slid possessively around her waist, pulling her against his side. “She knows exactly what her husband really is now… and she’s chosen a new owner.”

The men chuckled darkly, their gazes lingering on her heavy tits and thick thighs. One of them — a tall, bald soldier with a scar across his cheek — smirked. “Damn, Zeke. You always did have the best taste. That ass looks built for sharing.”

Another one adjusted the obvious bulge in his pants. “We taking turns after the takedown, or is she off-limits?”

Zeke laughed low and pulled Nabilah closer, his hand slipping under her abaya to cup her bare, dripping cunt right in front of them. Two thick fingers pushed inside her without warning, making her moan softly. “We’ll see. My little Muslim whore has been learning to obey very well. Maybe after we bag her husband I’ll let you boys break her in properly. A proper gangbang welcome to the team — all of you stretching these holes at once while she thanks you for freeing her.”

Nabilah’s eyes widened in shock, but her pussy clenched hard around Zeke’s fingers, soaking them instantly. The thought terrified her… and made her clit throb with forbidden heat. She whimpered, pressing her face into Zeke’s chest, too ashamed to look at the other men but unable to deny how wet the idea made her.

Zeke pulled his fingers out and made her lick them clean in front of everyone before sending the team downstairs to set up their equipment. “Plenty of time for that later,” he told her with a dark promise in his voice. “Right now, I want you upstairs. One last long, hard reminder of who you belong to before the real world crashes in.”

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In the bedroom, Zeke didn’t waste a second.

He shoved her onto the marital bed on all fours, yanked her abaya up over her hips, and slammed every thick inch of his 15-inch monster cock straight into her soaked cunt in one brutal thrust. Nabilah screamed in pleasure, her fingers clawing the sheets as her belly bulged visibly from the sheer size, the fat head grinding hard against her cervix.

“Fuuuuck, Master! You’re so deep!” she wailed, pushing her fat ass back against him, her pussy lips stretched obscenely tight around his girth, creamy juices already coating every veiny inch.

Zeke gripped her wide hips like iron clamps and started pounding her with long, savage strokes. The wet, filthy *PLAP-PLAP-PLAP-PLAP* of his heavy balls slapping her swollen clit filled the room, mixed with the obscene squelching of her juices and his earlier cum being churned into a frothy mess inside her. Her big round ass rippled and jiggled violently with every impact, the pale cheeks turning red from the force. He reached forward, grabbed her hijab like reins, and yanked her head back hard, arching her spine as he railed her even deeper, the bulge in her stomach rising and falling like a piston with each thrust.

For nearly forty minutes he fucked her cunt mercilessly in that position, never slowing, his enhanced stamina letting him hammer her without mercy. Sweat poured down his chiseled abs onto her back. He slapped her ass repeatedly, leaving bright red handprints, then reached around to pinch and roll her swollen clit between his fingers until she came screaming — the first orgasm ripping through her so hard her pussy squirted, spraying clear fluid all over his balls and the sheets.

“Master! I’m cumming so hard on your nigger cock!” she cried, voice breaking.

He didn’t stop. He flipped her onto her back, folded her legs over his shoulders in a deep breeding press, and drove back in even harder. The new angle let him grind right against her cervix with every thrust, the fat head battering her womb open. Her heavy tits bounced wildly; he leaned down and sucked hard on one dark nipple, biting just enough to make her moan louder. The room filled with the wet, rhythmic sounds of his massive cock destroying her married pussy — *schlick-schlick-schlick* — her juices foaming around his shaft.

“Look at that belly bulge, slut,” he growled, staring straight into her eyes. “Your terrorist husband could never reach here. This womb is mine now.”

“Please Master… breed me! Fill this married Muslim cunt with your superior nigger seed! I want your baby growing in me while they drag that worthless piece of shit away!” Nabilah begged, legs locked tight around him, her second orgasm crashing over her as her walls spasmed and milked his cock.

Zeke roared and unloaded, pumping rope after thick, hot rope of cum straight into her womb until her lower belly swelled noticeably, the pressure so intense she could feel it sloshing inside her. He stayed buried deep, grinding, making sure every drop stayed inside while he kissed her roughly, tongue invading her mouth.

But he wasn’t done.

He flipped her over again without pulling out, kept her impaled on his still-hard cock, and started fucking her from behind while she was still full of his cum. The creamy mixture leaked out around his shaft with every thrust. Then he pulled out of her pussy with a wet pop and pressed the cum-slick head against her asshole.

Nabilah pushed back eagerly this time, moaning like a whore. “Please Master… take my ass again… stretch it wide!”

He sank all 15 inches into her tight ass in one long, relentless push, the burning stretch making her eyes roll back and her mouth fall open in a silent scream. Her asshole gripped him like a vice, the veiny shaft forcing her ring to stretch obscenely wide. He fucked her ass with the same brutal pace — long, deep strokes that made her feel him in her stomach — for another thirty minutes, occasionally pulling out to slam back into her pussy just to keep both holes sloppy, ruined, and dripping with cum. He pulled her hijab back again, using it like reins to choke her lightly while he railed her, the fabric digging into her throat as he growled filthy praise.

“This is your life now, hijabi whore. Getting both holes wrecked like a cumdump while your old life gets erased downstairs.”

Nabilah came again and again, her body shaking uncontrollably, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaming down her face. “Thank you Master… thank you for ruining me!”

When he finally came again, he pulled out and painted her gaping asshole and pussy with the last thick ropes of cum, then made her push his seed back inside herself with her fingers while she licked the rest off the sheets like a desperate bitch.

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By the time they came downstairs, the team had finished setting up. Cameras covered every entrance. The basement was turned into a quiet command post. The four men were lounging in the living room, gear ready, eyes lighting up again when they saw Nabilah walking gingerly, cum still leaking down her thighs under her abaya.

Zeke pulled her against him possessively. “Plenty of time before he gets here, boys. Maybe my slut will give you a little preview of what’s coming after we bag him.”

Nabilah’s heart hammered with nervous, filthy excitement as the men grinned at her like wolves.

Outside, the sound of snowplows grew closer. The roads were almost clear.

Abdul would be home soon.

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**End of Chapter 4**