“How dare you all just sit there in your comfortable seats, while I have to skip school just to come here and tell you that your proposed solution to our climate change problem won’t work. Cutting carbon emissions down to net zero is not enough. We need to bring emissions down to *real zero*.”
The audience of UN delegates from nations and organizations around the world rose to its feet and erupted in applause as Sasha Wurtzen finished her speech. The teenage climate change activist absorbed the adulation with a blush and grateful smile. She was soon in tears as well as the applause went on for a full minute.
Unlike the previous climate change prodigy that came before her, Sasha actually had a halfway developed personality and the ability to empathize with others. People liked that. This didn’t mean she wasn’t ideologically similar to Greta. Both Greta and Sasha said and believed pretty much the same things, however, Sasha, on the surface, related to people better.
It also didn’t hurt that she was a hot-ass, raven-haired, green-eyed, Slavic, teen babe, who had modeled for several fashion magazines before getting into her current full-time occupation of climate activism. What boosted her career as a climate activist was a viral YouTube video she had posted of herself and seven other teen hotties twerking in green mini tank tops and thongs to a rap song about lowering carbon emissions and going green.
After her UN speech, she was driven back to an expensive hotel in a limousine. In her VIP suite, she turned on the air conditioning, the large widescreen TV, and had a hot shower. She went down to the restaurant and had dinner. It was during this time that her agent gave her her phone, saying someone wanted to speak to her.
“Yes?” Sasha said into the phone.
“Is this Sasha Wurtzen?” said the male voice on the other end of the line.
“Speaking.”
“Thank you for taking my call, Sasha. I am a middle man for a very important person. This person has already, as of an hour ago, deposited two large amounts of money in your personal bank account as well as the fund you set up for your activism. My employer would like a personal audience with you in exchange for more donations and a Bombardier Global 7500.”
“Uh, could you please hold for a second while I check with my agent?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
Sasha looked at her agent and asked, “Are you able to access my personal bank account and the climate fund we set up?”
“Sure, but I’ll need my phone,” said the confused agent.
“No, here, use my phone,” said Sasha, giving her her own phone from her pocket.
The agent checked both accounts and showed the balances on screen to Sasha. They were now seven figure amounts rather than four and five figure as they had been earlier that day. Both the agent and Sasha were blown away. Next Sasha had to ask the agent what a Bombardier Global 7500 was.
A quick Google search and both ladies were blown away again.
“Hello, are you still there?”
“Yes, Sasha, I’m here.”
“Tell your boss I’d be more than happy to see him in person.”
The mystery benefactor turned out to be none other than reclusive billionaire Hank Wankspaugh. The morning after the phone call from his middle man, Sasha found herself sitting across from him in a luxurious study in his mansion. Everything looked and felt expensive and everything was indeed expensive.
“I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am for your extremely generous donations, Mr. Wankspaugh.”
“Oh, you’re welcome,” said the sixty-one year old media mogul. “It’s the least I could do to help a great cause such as yours. And please call me Hank. Can I call you Sasha?”
“Of course, you can, Hank.”
“Good. Now I believe the governments of the world, certainly those in the United Nations, will do exactly as you ask. I’ve participated in engineering the rise of progressive, woke leaders in many key countries and have assisted in the fall of the old guard of common sense bludgeons. It’s clear to me that the time of rational thought is over. This isn’t the age of reason anymore. That is long gone. This is the time of extreme action for our very survival.”
“You’re preaching to the converted, Hank. I totally agree with you there. People want comfort rather than community action for the greatest good: planet Earth. It’s unbelievable! So what if they can’t ride around in their air polluting cars or get sweaty without the AC on. Life is hard and saving the world will involve more hardship. There’s no easy way out of this.”
Wankspaugh nodded in solemn agreement. “Couldn’t have put it better myself, Sasha. In all of this world saving, I also believe a few individuals, who are at the forefront of the fight to save the planet deserve some benefits, somewhat similar to tax cuts.”
Sasha’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m obviously very rich. Look around you. It takes a lot of energy to keep up all of this: the house, the cars, the planes, the media companies. You know what I mean. Should I have to give this up like everyone else?”
Realization dawned on Sasha. Necessary inequality enforced by the new regime and she would be a leader in this new world governing force. Hank Wankspaugh among many other likeminded benefactors would ensure she have a place at the highest level to effect change globally, and in return, he wanted to maintain his wealth and comfort, including some extra benefits. Let the little people squabble over the bred crumbs we toss out to them, thought Sasha. They’ve been hurting the planet long enough with their pathetic and toxic freedoms. They deserve to suffer. Those who have the Earth’s interests at heart and those who support them deserve all the riches and comfort the Earth can provide them, more so than those deplorables.
Sasha nodded. “Hank, in the new order, there will be a new elite and you will be a part of that group, if I have anything to say about it.”
“Fabulous,” said Wankspaugh. “I do need some more substantial proof that we have an understanding. Our conversation isn’t something that could be worked out in a contract, but I believe in other ways of showing allegiance.”
Curious, Sasha asked, “What ways would that be?”
Wankspaugh winked at her and said, “Would you be so kind as to follow me down to my basement?”
Two weeks later, Sasha was flying over the Atlantic Ocean on her way to London in her new private jet, the Bombardier Global 7500, courtesy of Hank Wankspaugh. It was the most luxurious specimen of transportation she had ever seen and it was all hers, yet somehow, being the owner of this extravagant aircraft, along with having the adoration of world governments and global organizations – not to mention, being an overnight millionaire – all felt hollow. She felt no lingering happiness over these as she remembered when she received good grades or did something to make her parents proud.
Those earlier childhood days, the happiness lingered for a good while, but so many incredibly wonderful things happening to her recently so quickly in such a short span of time – maybe that was it. Maybe she just needed to slow down and process things and she would probably get that happiness. But at the moment, all she could think of was how hollow she felt and how she needed to be in London to give another speech about climate change and what people should do to save the world from it.
She whispered to herself as she gazed out at the clouds through the window. “No matter what they do, it won’t be enough. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Nothing ever did.”
“Did you say something, Sasha?” asked her agent, sitting on the other side of the plane, lightly sipping a mixed drink from a champagne glass.
“It’s nothing,” said Sasha as her thoughts took her back into Hank Wankspaugh’s basement after their chat in his study.
It was the darkest basement she had ever been in and it was intentionally so. The stone bricks were of a black variety. Then there was the whimpering. She would never forget it – the sounds of women in distress who had lost all hope. The lighting was also intentionally dim, so she couldn’t make out their faces. They were all in cages, girls as old as her to women in their forties, all of them naked. From their shapes in the dim lighting, she could tell they were, or had been, beautiful. Wankspaugh liked his women beautiful, and from what Sasha could see, he liked to taint that beauty with terror and captivity.
Hank Wankspaugh was a sickminded man, Sasha now knew beyond any doubt. But she realized that she would need him. There were things she wanted governments to force their people to do. Sensible people working with her would only slow things down. She needed people with no moral compunction to help her do what she needed done. Wankspaugh was that kind of a person. This meant she would have to accept his ugly side as well.
“Nice basement,” Sasha said, doing her best not to show how disgusted and afraid she was. She pretended not to hear the cries and pleas of the caged women.
Wankspaugh said, “As far as we are concerned, you’ve never been down here.”
Sasha winked at him, painfully. “We’re still touring your kitchen at this moment.”
Wankspaugh smiled. “That’s the spirit. However, I need more than just spirit and attitude. I need more solid reassurance. This is how we do things, Ms. Wurtzen.”
Something dark picked her up and laid her on a table. The surface was hard and wet. She had no idea what the wetness was and she didn’t want to find out. Strong hands ripped off her clothes and stripped her completely naked. Then her legs were forced apart and a huge black cock rammed its way into her young cunt.
“Aaah!” Sasha screamed. The cries of the caged women got louder as the black monster ravaged her body. She could feel his extra large sized cock ripping into her vagina, expanding her to her limit. She felt every vein on his cock. She looked into his eyes. They were mostly white with gray in the centers.
Wankspaugh stood to the side, stroking his cock with his phone in his other hand, recording the scene on video. “This is how we ensure allegiance to our common cause. We want to save the world, but what is the world without enjoying a few vices, huh?”
The big black monster picked her up and pressed Sasha face first against the black brick wall. He pushed his big dick into her cunt from behind, making her scream again in pain and inhuman pleasure. The stretching she was going through was mind blowing and scary at the same time. She was thrilled out of her mind. His hot grunting filled her ears as he rammed his cock into her pussy. She was cumming soon and hating herself for being pleasured by this huge monstrosity.
Sasha was then left on the floor to whimper and clutch her sore pussy. But her respite was not for long. A pack of dogs came out from somewhere in the darkness. Sasha tried to run, but was held down by two cloaked figures. She pleaded with Wankspaugh to keep the dogs away.
“Sasha, my dear, these dogs are your friends. Accept them and all will be well.”
Most of the fight went out of Sasha on hearing that. She thought she could persuade Wankspaugh, but he had been planning this since before she had received the call from his middle man. Sasha still struggled against the two cloaked figures as they strapped her facing down to what appeared to be a low sawhorse. One dog after another was positioned behind her and mounted her. She felt each dog knot itself deeply inside her, ruining her pussy and making her scream in pain, begging Wankspaugh to stop this madness. The billionaire kept stroking his cock and recording instead. Five dogs had their way with Sasha, firing their loads inside her pussy. She felt humiliated, hurt, disgusted and traumatized.
Sasha couldn’t walk properly after that. One of the cloaked figures carried her up to the ground floor above and left her there. Wankspaugh joined her and persuaded her to sign a non-disclosure agreement. He told her that everything that happened to her had been recorded and the video would be leaked if she didn’t sign the agreement. She signed and soon afterwards a doctor arrived and gave her treatment for her vagina and trauma suffered.
“Don’t worry,” said Wankspaugh to Sasha as she was loaded into a limousine that would take her back to her hotel. “Our agreement still stands. But I do have to ask you. Are you ready to be a millionaire for life and the owner of a Bombardier Global 7500?”
Now in her private jet nearing the United Kingdom, Sasha allowed herself a smile.
“Yes, I’m ready.”
Wankspaugh had been true to his word. While what he did to her in his basement with the black hulk and the dogs was horrible, in exchange for all of that, he had given her the world on a silver platter. And nothing was free. Everything cost money or dignity or something else. Sasha paid her price for her piece of the world, and she thought to herself, so what if it was wrong? She and Wankspaugh were more alike than they were different. For them, the end always justified the means.
The young activist adjusted her seat back and dozed peacefully for the rest of the flight.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/fp2qaw/real_zero_mf_rape_bestiality_dark_fiction