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Master-wolf Profile Master-wolf Profile views: 38360 Fanbase: 1203 About Me I believe in look butt don’t touch and remember take a picture it lasts longer Interests Ass , Bbw , Candid , clothed , Ebonys , Girls , Japanese , jeans , Leggings , Lesbian , Licking , Masturbation , Panties , Pussy , Shorts , Thick , Tongues , Voyeur , Yiff Signed up: 3 years and 9 months ago Images viewed: 0 Images uploaded: 13782 Gender: Male Sexual orientation: Bisexual Birth: 10/10/1997 Location: United States Last Online: 2 hours ago Connect with Master-wolf Send Message Add Comment Become a fan Add to relations Status updates Comments (6) (See All Comments) Assmasterbator Comments: 4 Wrote on Jun 29, 2026 Candid group chat https://ig.me/j/AbbYwysrR-yKRjuv/   Legl0ver82 Comments: 178 Commented on Jun 26, 2026 "I’d bury my face in that big mommy ass"   thiagobolots Comments: 2 Commented on Jun 24, 2026 "Stairs to heaven! "   mooseme Comments: 2,917 Commented on Jun 24, 2026 "These are the best ones for me"   lahav3479 Comments: 7 Commented on Jun 23, 2026 "Carlos drops the pic in the chat. "Bathroom B. Now. Curly. Big ass. Alone." The girl's fifteen, alone, drifting through the mall on a Saturday. Long curly chestnut hair to her ass. Tiny round baby face with huge dark eyes and pouty little lips, no makeup, freckles. Tight pink top over budding teen tits. Grey flares painted onto a massive round teen ass — Latin hips, breeding hips, an ass built for childbirth slapped onto a body still mostly child. Womb just turned on. First periods last spring. Eggs dropping for maybe the third time in her life. Defenseless and ripe. She pushes into Bathroom B. I plant my sign. Four old, sweaty, ugly black janitors slip past me. Door shuts. Bathroom B — soundproof concrete bunker. The mall's gift to us. I mop and listen. Struggle. Rip. Muffled scream. Then the squeak. God I love that squeak. The unmistakable little childish yelp when an old fat janitor cock tears through her cherry. A sound she'll never make again because she'll never be a virgin again. Then the slap of skin. Forty minutes of wet brutal use. Four old ugly mid-aged niggers taking turns. Climbing on, fucking deep, growling. And then — the part I tune in for — the roars. That low, animal, unhinged groan of an ugly old janitor cumming balls-deep in a fifteen-year-old virgin white womb. Not his wife. Not even close. His wife is fifty, fat, dry, tired. This — this is fresh fertile teenage meat, sealed tight around his cock, taking his seed whether she wants to or not. That groan is pure low-primate ecstasy. Twenty thousand years of male biology firing at once. I am breeding superior prey. The kind of pleasure no condom, no marriage, no consensual lay can ever provide. The grunt of a man planting his bastard inside a girl who'll have to carry it whether she likes it or not. Four of those groans. One after another. Each one slightly different. Each one followed by the next ugly old fucker mounting without even waiting for the load to settle. They file out. Sweaty, grinning, fist-bumping. I peek inside. She's slumped against the tile. Pink top shredded. Grey pants twisted at one ankle. Curly hair stuck to her tear-soaked baby face. Big dark eyes glassy and empty. Between her thighs a thick puddle of four mixed black loads, swirling with virgin blood, leaking out faster than her young body can contain it. Already pregnant. No question. Four geriatric loads don't miss on a fresh ovulating teen. She crawls out twenty minutes later. Limping. Bowlegged. Numb. Holding her shirt closed. Walks out of the mall and never tells a soul. Eight months later her parents are crying in a hospital chapel while she holds a screaming dark-brown baby with a flat wide nose and an old man's face. Could be any of us. Could be all of us. And the cops know. They know. This is at least the third or fourth white teenager pregnant from Bathroom B in the last two years. Same bathroom. Same time slot. Same mysteriously "unsolvable" fatherhood. But every detective on the case is black. Every supervisor is black. Evidence keeps walking off shelves. Witnesses keep "forgetting." Cases keep getting filed under insufficient evidence — likely consensual. Maybe to certain black cops, watching pretty curly-haired white schoolgirls get bred into single mommies by four old ugly janitors doesn't quite feel like a crime. Maybe it feels like fairness. Maybe it feels like the world finally getting evened out, one squeaking ninth-grader at a time. So we keep our jobs. The sign keeps going up. The roars keep echoing off the tile. Mall janitor brotherhood. Best gig in America."   lahav3479 Comments: 7 Commented on Jun 23, 2026 "You know what gets me? The oversized shirt. The Ford Bronco shirt. Some boy's shirt. Probably her older brother's. Probably daddy's. Big and baggy and stupid, swallowing her tiny tan frame, making her look even smaller and younger than she is. Like she's playing dress-up. Like she's a little girl wearing big-people clothes. And under that shirt? Skin tight turquoise bike shorts painted on her perfect little ass. The juxtaposition is criminal. Innocent top, slutty bottom. Her body is at war with itself. Half of her wants to be a kid still. Half of her is starting to bloom. I see her by the drink cooler. Twelve, thirteen tops. Tan legs, blonde pigtails, no makeup, little stud earrings, freckles on her button nose. Cash in one hand, phone in the other. Picking out a Sprite. Singing along quietly to whatever's on the store radio. I'm in the back. Mopping. Big ugly black janitor nobody looks at twice. Forty-something. Scarred. Fresh out of fifteen years for what they called "assault" in the papers but everyone in town knew was something worse. She doesn't notice me until I'm right behind her. "Hey little lady, you the one whose mom called? She said meet her in the back, said you forgot something at home she dropped off." She tilts her head, confused. "My mom...? But she's at—" "In the back, sweetie. C'mon, follow me." And she does. God help her, she does. Because she's been raised to obey adults. Because this is a Christian town and people are good here. Because she's thirteen and stupid and trusting. I lead her through the storeroom into the deep back where the broken freezer is. Where nobody goes. Where there's no camera. She turns around. "Where's my—" I shove her against the freezer. Hand over her mouth. My huge ugly face two inches from her tiny terrified one. "Be quiet, baby. Be a good girl. Or I make this real bad." She knows. Right then. She knows. I can see it in her eyes. The realization hits her all at once — she's not going home today as the same girl. Maybe not going home at all. Tears start streaming immediately. Her little body shakes against the cold metal of the freezer. I yank the Ford Bronco shirt up over her head. Underneath she's wearing a little white training bra, barely necessary, barely covering the tiny budding mounds of her pre-teen tits. I rip that off too. Two small puffy nipples, dark pink, hard from cold and fear. Tiny tan body. Ribs visible. Soft little tummy. Newly formed waist starting to dip in. I turn her around. Face into the freezer. Yank those bike shorts down. Her perfect little ass pops out. Tan. Round. Firm. Two little dimples above her crack. No tan line. She sunbathes nude maybe. Or in a thong. I spread her cheeks. Her tight little asshole. Her perfect untouched pink slit. Smooth. Hairless. Closed tight like a baby's. She's crying so hard she can barely breathe. "Please, mister... please don't... I haven't even had my first kiss yet..." That makes me harder than anything. I unzip. Spit on my cock. Press it against her virgin hole. She braces. Tries to clamp her legs shut. I knee them apart. Push in. She screams. I muffle her with my hand. Her hymen rips on the first thrust — I feel it pop, feel the warm blood gush around my cock. She's so tight my dick can barely move. Twelve-year-old pussy, never had anything bigger than a finger maybe. Now stuffed full of fat black inmate cock. I fuck her against the freezer. Her tiny tan body slams against the metal with every thrust. Her pigtails bounce wildly. Her bare little nipples drag against the cold steel and harden. She's wailing into my palm. After a while she stops. Just sobs quietly. Her body has accepted it. Limp little ragdoll. I feel my balls tightening. "Gonna breed you, baby. Gonna fill your little white pussy." That's when she turns. Slowly. Her tear-streaked freckled face looks up at me over her shoulder. Big wet blue eyes lock on mine. Pink lips trembling, parted, drooling slightly. She doesn't fight anymore. Doesn't squirm. Her whole tiny body has gone soft, almost compliant. She stares at me. Stares at my ugly black face. The scar across my eyebrow. The gold tooth. The bald scarred head. The wide flat nose. Doesn't look away. Her body knows. Her little newly-fertile womb knows. She's being bred. She's being seeded. And her ancient female instinct, ten thousand years old, fires up — look at him. Memorize him. He's the father. The baby will look like him. Know him. She just keeps staring. I cum. "Aaaargh — fuck — take it, baby — take this nigger seed — take my baby —" Pump deep into her cervix. Empty my balls into her twelve-year-old womb. So much cum it backs up around my cock, leaking down her thighs. Her eyes never leave mine. She lets out a tiny, broken little gasp as she feels the warmth flood her insides. Her hips give one weak instinctive press back against me. She's accepting it. Her body is accepting it. Sealing it in. I pull out. She slides down the freezer, ass on the cold concrete, legs splayed. Cum and blood pooling between her tan thighs. Pigtails ruined. Ford Bronco shirt on the floor. Tiny tits exposed. Eyes still locked on me. I crouch down. Look her in the face. "You're gonna have my baby now. Understand? You're gonna have a little black baby. And you ain't gonna tell nobody who did this. Cause if you do, I come back. Understand?" She just stares. Numb. Broken. Nods slowly. I zip up. Walk out. Buy myself a Coke from the same cooler she was picking from. Walk past her abandoned Sprite on the floor. Drive home. Nine months later. Local paper. "Beloved 12-Year-Old Gives Birth to Mixed-Race Baby, Family Devastated." Picture of her in a hospital bed. Belly deflated. Hollow eyes. Holding a screaming little black baby. Pigtails replaced with a messy bun. Face puffy from crying. She never told. Never identified me. Cops asked. She just stared at the wall. Said she couldn't remember. But she remembered. She remembered every ugly inch of me. Because her body made her memorize me. So her baby could grow into the spitting image of his daddy. Pure biology. Pure breeding. Pure Christian Belt magic. I see her sometimes. She's fourteen now. Pushing a stroller through the Walmart. The little boy is dark as me. Ugly as me. Has my scar. She looks up. Sees me. Doesn't say anything. Just stares. Just like that day."   DoYours Comments: 3,675 Commented on Jun 23, 2026 "This girl...."   Trickaztrickz Comments: 47 Commented on Jun 23, 2026 "So hot"   Cheeks1121 Comments: 2,801 Commented on Jun 23, 2026 "I want a turn on that ride"   freezeframe1 Comments: 8 Commented on Jun 23, 2026 "she’d be good to pass around"   See All Comments | Add Comment

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