Timmy, Bree, and Jamal: Chapter 6
by passion_pilot_2026Abstract: The 6th of 12 chapters. Jamal "breaks" Timmy - succumbs and become subservient to Jamal. \\\ Bree, fresh from a late afternoon yoga session that left her skin glowing and her tank top clin
about 2 months ago
•long read•hot intensityAbstract:
The 6th of 12 chapters. Jamal "breaks" Timmy - succumbs and become subservient to Jamal.
\\\
Bree, fresh from a late afternoon yoga session that left her skin glowing and her tank top clinging to her curves, scrolled through her phone absentmindedly. Timmy, ever the picture of relaxed affluence in his crisp button-down, tinkered with a vintage watch on the coffee table. Their evening plans were loose: maybe a drive to the coast, or just curling up with takeout. But Bree's thumb paused on a message from Jamal, the one that had been simmering in her notifications all week.
She loved Timmy—his kindness, the way he spoiled her with quiet gestures like the pearl earrings he'd surprised her with last month—but Jamal's pull was a wildfire, raw and consuming. The conflict gnawed at her, a secret knot in her chest, especially after the billiards parlor escapade, where Timmy's arousal at her confessions had only deepened their twisted bond.
She bit her lip, debating a reply, when her phone erupted into a ring, the screen flashing Jamal's name like a warning flare. Bree's heart stuttered. She answered, voice light but edged with caution. "Hey, what's up?" Jamal's voice came through rough, laced with agitation that made her grip tighten on the phone. "I'm coming over now. I’ll see you both soon. He hung up before she could respond, leaving the line dead and her pulse racing. Concerned, she set the phone down, her athletic frame tensing. Timmy looked up, sensing the shift, his eyes soft behind those wire-rimmed glasses. "Everything okay?" She forced a smile, but it wobbled. "Jamal's... on his way. His voice was very stern."
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang like a judge's gavel. Bree opened it to find Jamal towering in the frame, his broad shoulders straining his fitted shirt, dark eyes stormy under furrowed brows. He didn't wait for an invitation. He came in and directed both Timmy and Bree into the master bedroom.
Inside, the Alaskan King bed loomed like an altar, its silk sheets still rumpled from last night's tender reunion where Timmy had worshipped her with his tongue, drawing out orgasms that left her quivering.
"Strip - both of you," Jamal ordered, his voice low and commanding, agitation simmering into something more primal. Bree hesitated, her eyes wide with fright, but Jamal's stare pinned her. Trembling, she peeled off her tank top, revealing the sports bra that hugged her full breasts, then shimmied out of her leggings, standing in just her panties. Timmy followed suit, his shirt and pants pooling at his feet, his modest frame exposed, that tiny dick—Tinnie Wennie, her affectionate tease—already twitching despite the tension. Jamal undressed last, shedding his clothes with deliberate slowness, his muscular body unfolding like a threat. His cock hung heavy between his thighs, thick even soft, a ten-inch promise that made Bree's pussy clench involuntarily, even as fear clawed at her.
He stood there, naked and imposing, his dark skin gleaming under the soft lamp light. "On the bed, Bree," he commanded, pointing. "Lay down. And you—" His eyes locked on Timmy. "Kneel before me." Bree's heart hammered as she obeyed, sinking onto the edge of the bed, her legs dangling, panties damp despite everything.
Timmy dropped to his knees on the hardwood floor, the impact jarring, his face level with Jamal's groin. The bigger man loomed over him, one hand stroking his thickening shaft lazily. "I'm gonna break you," Jamal said, his voice a dark rumble, agitation fueling the threat. "Now suck my cock and get it hard."
Timmy froze, his charming face draining of color, eyes flicking to Bree in silent plea. The room spun for him—humiliation crashing in like a wave, his fantasies of Bree with other men never extending this far, this raw. He hesitated, mouth dry, the weight of Jamal's stare pressing down. In a flash, Jamal's hand cracked across Timmy's cheek, the slap sharp and stinging, leaving a red mark. Bree gasped, horror flooding her features as she bolted upright. "Jamal, stop! What are you doing?!" But Timmy, dazed and stinging, leaned forward, complying before another blow could land.
His lips parted, trembling, wrapping around the head of Jamal's cock. It was massive, the girth stretching his jaw, the musky taste flooding his senses—salty skin and a hint of sweat from Jamal's agitated drive over. Timmy gagged slightly, inexperienced, his small hands bracing on Jamal's thighs for balance. Jamal said to Bree “get down here and help him.”
Bree slid off the bed, kneeling beside him, her fright morphing into desperate action. "It's okay, baby," she whispered, her hand joining his on the shaft, stroking in tandem. Together, they worked Jamal hard—Timmy's tentative sucks along the length, Bree's fingers pumping the base, her tongue darting out to lick the underside where Timmy faltered. Jamal groaned, his agitation easing into pleasure, his cock swelling to full, veiny hardness under their combined efforts, pre-cum beading at the tip that Timmy lapped up without thinking.
"Good," Jamal grunted, threading fingers through Timmy's hair, guiding him deeper. Bree's touch was gentle on Timmy's cheek, wiping away a tear of overwhelm, her own eyes glistening with horror at the violence, yet unable to deny the erotic charge pulsing through the room. Jamal's dick throbbed, fully erect now, a monster compared to Timmy's modest size—the one Timmy preferred to pleasure her with his mouth instead. But this was different, a defilement that twisted their dynamic into something darker.
"Enough," Jamal barked, pulling back with a wet pop. He grabbed Bree by the arm, yanking her to the nightstand. "Lube. Now." She fumbled for the bottle, hands shaking, squirting a generous amount into her palm. Jamal positioned Timmy on all fours on the bed beside her, ass exposed, vulnerable. "Do him first," Jamal ordered, nodding at Timmy's tight entrance. Bree's horror deepened—this wasn't the playful cuckolding they'd danced around; this was assault masked as dominance. But Jamal's agitation loomed, his slap still echoing in her mind, so she complied, her lubed fingers circling Timmy's hole, pressing in gently. He whimpered, body tensing, the intrusion foreign and invasive. "Shh, I've got you," she soothed, working more lube inside, her other hand stroking his back.
Then, at Jamal's impatient nod, she coated his massive cock, slicking every inch, the veins pulsing under her touch. Jamal wasted no time. He knelt behind Timmy, gripping his hips with bruising force, and thrust forward. The head breached Timmy's ass in one brutal push, tearing a scream from his throat—raw, pained, echoing off the walls. "Fuck - it hurts!" Timmy cried, his body bucking, small dick flopping uselessly beneath him. Jamal didn't stop, driving deeper, the lube easing but not enough to blunt the burn, the stretch. Inch by agonizing inch, he buried himself, grunting with effort, his agitation channeling into possessive fury.
Timmy's screams devolved into sobs, his face contorted in agony, humiliated beyond words—broken, defiled, his kind world shattered by the pounding invasion. Bree scrambled to his side, cradling his face in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Look at me, Timmy, baby, I'm here," she whispered, pressing kisses to his forehead, his lips, tasting salt from his pain. She held him steady as Jamal fucked harder, the slap of skin on skin filling the room, Timmy's ass clenching futilely around the thick dick plundering him. Each thrust sent jolts of fire through Timmy, his body betraying him with involuntary twitches, demoralized tears soaking Bree's fingers. She kissed his face in desperate comfort, her own pussy aching with conflicted arousal—horror at the assault, yet the raw power of it stirring something primal.
Jamal's pace quickened, his breaths ragged, balls slapping against Timmy's as he chased release. With a guttural roar, Jamal came, flooding Timmy's ass with hot spurts of cum, the cream-pie overflowing, dripping down Timmy's thighs. The sensation—wet, violating—pushed Timmy over the edge; his vision blurred, pain overwhelming, and he passed out, body slumping forward onto the sheets, then onto the floor, limp and spent.
Jamal stood over Timmy, his cock glistening, spent but still menacing. Bree ignored him at first, sliding to the floor beside Timmy as he stirred groggily, both of them weeping uncontrollably—her sobs wracking her naked frame, his a broken keen of hurt and humiliation. She held him close, their bodies pressed together, slick with sweat and lube, the room reeking of sex and violation. Timmy curled into her, penetrated and raw, feeling utterly demoralized, his spirit fractured by the man who'd just claimed him so viciously.
Jamal said "you now belong to me Timmy. You are my servant. If you do not obey my every command without hesitation, I will break you again. Is that understood?" "Yes," Timmy said, sobbing, as he nodded. Jamal ordered Bree to take Timmy to the guest room and tuck him into bed. Bree stayed with Timmy, both still weeping, until Timmy fell asleep.
The 6th of 12 chapters. Jamal "breaks" Timmy - succumbs and become subservient to Jamal.
\\\
Bree, fresh from a late afternoon yoga session that left her skin glowing and her tank top clinging to her curves, scrolled through her phone absentmindedly. Timmy, ever the picture of relaxed affluence in his crisp button-down, tinkered with a vintage watch on the coffee table. Their evening plans were loose: maybe a drive to the coast, or just curling up with takeout. But Bree's thumb paused on a message from Jamal, the one that had been simmering in her notifications all week.
She loved Timmy—his kindness, the way he spoiled her with quiet gestures like the pearl earrings he'd surprised her with last month—but Jamal's pull was a wildfire, raw and consuming. The conflict gnawed at her, a secret knot in her chest, especially after the billiards parlor escapade, where Timmy's arousal at her confessions had only deepened their twisted bond.
She bit her lip, debating a reply, when her phone erupted into a ring, the screen flashing Jamal's name like a warning flare. Bree's heart stuttered. She answered, voice light but edged with caution. "Hey, what's up?" Jamal's voice came through rough, laced with agitation that made her grip tighten on the phone. "I'm coming over now. I’ll see you both soon. He hung up before she could respond, leaving the line dead and her pulse racing. Concerned, she set the phone down, her athletic frame tensing. Timmy looked up, sensing the shift, his eyes soft behind those wire-rimmed glasses. "Everything okay?" She forced a smile, but it wobbled. "Jamal's... on his way. His voice was very stern."
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang like a judge's gavel. Bree opened it to find Jamal towering in the frame, his broad shoulders straining his fitted shirt, dark eyes stormy under furrowed brows. He didn't wait for an invitation. He came in and directed both Timmy and Bree into the master bedroom.
Inside, the Alaskan King bed loomed like an altar, its silk sheets still rumpled from last night's tender reunion where Timmy had worshipped her with his tongue, drawing out orgasms that left her quivering.
"Strip - both of you," Jamal ordered, his voice low and commanding, agitation simmering into something more primal. Bree hesitated, her eyes wide with fright, but Jamal's stare pinned her. Trembling, she peeled off her tank top, revealing the sports bra that hugged her full breasts, then shimmied out of her leggings, standing in just her panties. Timmy followed suit, his shirt and pants pooling at his feet, his modest frame exposed, that tiny dick—Tinnie Wennie, her affectionate tease—already twitching despite the tension. Jamal undressed last, shedding his clothes with deliberate slowness, his muscular body unfolding like a threat. His cock hung heavy between his thighs, thick even soft, a ten-inch promise that made Bree's pussy clench involuntarily, even as fear clawed at her.
He stood there, naked and imposing, his dark skin gleaming under the soft lamp light. "On the bed, Bree," he commanded, pointing. "Lay down. And you—" His eyes locked on Timmy. "Kneel before me." Bree's heart hammered as she obeyed, sinking onto the edge of the bed, her legs dangling, panties damp despite everything.
Timmy dropped to his knees on the hardwood floor, the impact jarring, his face level with Jamal's groin. The bigger man loomed over him, one hand stroking his thickening shaft lazily. "I'm gonna break you," Jamal said, his voice a dark rumble, agitation fueling the threat. "Now suck my cock and get it hard."
Timmy froze, his charming face draining of color, eyes flicking to Bree in silent plea. The room spun for him—humiliation crashing in like a wave, his fantasies of Bree with other men never extending this far, this raw. He hesitated, mouth dry, the weight of Jamal's stare pressing down. In a flash, Jamal's hand cracked across Timmy's cheek, the slap sharp and stinging, leaving a red mark. Bree gasped, horror flooding her features as she bolted upright. "Jamal, stop! What are you doing?!" But Timmy, dazed and stinging, leaned forward, complying before another blow could land.
His lips parted, trembling, wrapping around the head of Jamal's cock. It was massive, the girth stretching his jaw, the musky taste flooding his senses—salty skin and a hint of sweat from Jamal's agitated drive over. Timmy gagged slightly, inexperienced, his small hands bracing on Jamal's thighs for balance. Jamal said to Bree “get down here and help him.”
Bree slid off the bed, kneeling beside him, her fright morphing into desperate action. "It's okay, baby," she whispered, her hand joining his on the shaft, stroking in tandem. Together, they worked Jamal hard—Timmy's tentative sucks along the length, Bree's fingers pumping the base, her tongue darting out to lick the underside where Timmy faltered. Jamal groaned, his agitation easing into pleasure, his cock swelling to full, veiny hardness under their combined efforts, pre-cum beading at the tip that Timmy lapped up without thinking.
"Good," Jamal grunted, threading fingers through Timmy's hair, guiding him deeper. Bree's touch was gentle on Timmy's cheek, wiping away a tear of overwhelm, her own eyes glistening with horror at the violence, yet unable to deny the erotic charge pulsing through the room. Jamal's dick throbbed, fully erect now, a monster compared to Timmy's modest size—the one Timmy preferred to pleasure her with his mouth instead. But this was different, a defilement that twisted their dynamic into something darker.
"Enough," Jamal barked, pulling back with a wet pop. He grabbed Bree by the arm, yanking her to the nightstand. "Lube. Now." She fumbled for the bottle, hands shaking, squirting a generous amount into her palm. Jamal positioned Timmy on all fours on the bed beside her, ass exposed, vulnerable. "Do him first," Jamal ordered, nodding at Timmy's tight entrance. Bree's horror deepened—this wasn't the playful cuckolding they'd danced around; this was assault masked as dominance. But Jamal's agitation loomed, his slap still echoing in her mind, so she complied, her lubed fingers circling Timmy's hole, pressing in gently. He whimpered, body tensing, the intrusion foreign and invasive. "Shh, I've got you," she soothed, working more lube inside, her other hand stroking his back.
Then, at Jamal's impatient nod, she coated his massive cock, slicking every inch, the veins pulsing under her touch. Jamal wasted no time. He knelt behind Timmy, gripping his hips with bruising force, and thrust forward. The head breached Timmy's ass in one brutal push, tearing a scream from his throat—raw, pained, echoing off the walls. "Fuck - it hurts!" Timmy cried, his body bucking, small dick flopping uselessly beneath him. Jamal didn't stop, driving deeper, the lube easing but not enough to blunt the burn, the stretch. Inch by agonizing inch, he buried himself, grunting with effort, his agitation channeling into possessive fury.
Timmy's screams devolved into sobs, his face contorted in agony, humiliated beyond words—broken, defiled, his kind world shattered by the pounding invasion. Bree scrambled to his side, cradling his face in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Look at me, Timmy, baby, I'm here," she whispered, pressing kisses to his forehead, his lips, tasting salt from his pain. She held him steady as Jamal fucked harder, the slap of skin on skin filling the room, Timmy's ass clenching futilely around the thick dick plundering him. Each thrust sent jolts of fire through Timmy, his body betraying him with involuntary twitches, demoralized tears soaking Bree's fingers. She kissed his face in desperate comfort, her own pussy aching with conflicted arousal—horror at the assault, yet the raw power of it stirring something primal.
Jamal's pace quickened, his breaths ragged, balls slapping against Timmy's as he chased release. With a guttural roar, Jamal came, flooding Timmy's ass with hot spurts of cum, the cream-pie overflowing, dripping down Timmy's thighs. The sensation—wet, violating—pushed Timmy over the edge; his vision blurred, pain overwhelming, and he passed out, body slumping forward onto the sheets, then onto the floor, limp and spent.
Jamal stood over Timmy, his cock glistening, spent but still menacing. Bree ignored him at first, sliding to the floor beside Timmy as he stirred groggily, both of them weeping uncontrollably—her sobs wracking her naked frame, his a broken keen of hurt and humiliation. She held him close, their bodies pressed together, slick with sweat and lube, the room reeking of sex and violation. Timmy curled into her, penetrated and raw, feeling utterly demoralized, his spirit fractured by the man who'd just claimed him so viciously.
Jamal said "you now belong to me Timmy. You are my servant. If you do not obey my every command without hesitation, I will break you again. Is that understood?" "Yes," Timmy said, sobbing, as he nodded. Jamal ordered Bree to take Timmy to the guest room and tuck him into bed. Bree stayed with Timmy, both still weeping, until Timmy fell asleep.