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Whiteboy Whipping Club!

Part 1

Whiteboy Whipping Club!


TJ Ryder


http://www.midnightx.com/




[img]http://midnightx.com/fpage/gaybd/COVER2.gif[/img]


   


Dear Diary,




     Since this is like my first installment to be published in


'Lavendar Cellblock'  I am supposed to intro myself a little for


the readers.  And nobody buys Cellblock unless theyr'e gay or


at least heavily bi, and into S&M a little bit at least, so I'm taking


that into consideration here.




    I'm (no last names or any data that can identify me or where I


work) a part time college student, a health nut, a weight training


and exercise addict, and a gay sex slave.  My stats are  24 yrs old,


5'6", light brown hair, medium length, blue eyes, 145 lbs.  I have a slim


build but finely muscled, more like a long distance runner, even though I


run no more than 10 miles at a time, taking it easy.




     I have two tongue studs, my left ear and nipple are ringed


and one stupid fading tattoo on my thigh with an ex-boyfriend's


name.  Okay, my basket, right?  I take amino acid cocktails, ginseng,


and did a lot of pump stuff in my late teens, and lately some


special sex exercises, so who knows what I'd be like normally.


I think around 6-7 inches.  Today I'm 9 inches, which I know is


not huge but I'm satisfied with it.  My balls are bigger though,


since Iv'e been on the Maca root and some other herbs.  Some guys


do steroids but I don't, because not only don't I want the bulk


or strength, I still like to pass for fem, and like being weaker than


the guys I go out with.  I do have long lasting ten second pumper


orgasms, that leave me driftless and half asleep for an hour or so.




     I have no beardline at all due to depilation, no hair on body


except  a wedge of pubic hair I keep trimmed.  Can I or have I pass


as a fem?  Yes and yes, except I wear falsies and a wig.  My legs


and arms are not muscle beach, but tapered, like dancers.  My


shoulders are not too beefy but I wear a kind of old fashioned


dress to conceal them a little. I only have two dresses now,


and never got too much into establishing my other persona.


My voice is tenor so I don't have to disguise that hardly.


My hands are muscular though, the really


only giveaway if someone looks close. I frequently wear a buttplug to


keep from getting too tight and the emotional support.  When I'm


definitely down and looking, I wear a big plug, a cock cage,


nipple clamps and a couple of pinching arm bracelets.  I slip


a condom on when I do this because I seep precum so much I'd


be leaking all over my groin.




    I don't do drag all that much and only started for this one boyfriend,


or master actually, whom I had met.  A couple years ago I got more


heavy into the gay bdsm scene after I met an older black ex con


through a prison paid volunteer project I was doing for college.


Sure, I know, cut the crap.  It was paid, sure, but the real reason was


to get into the prison walls and check out the pent up, mostly black


beef, and I especially made sure to work with cons about to be released,


and not into anything heavy, like you know, gang violence and drugs.




    Thetis Washington was a big black car thief who I flirted with until


he got out, and then moved in with me for almost a year.  But he had


a reputation with the 'bruthas' and couldn't be seen with me unless I


passed for fem, especially when in some of the clubs he had a dog leash


attached to my dog collar.  I think we might have gotten married if he


hadn't done something to get sent up for serious time, and it took almost


six months to get over it.  This is an area I'm not ready to go into yet.




    Okay,  moving on.  I'm moving back and forth through time


here and probably confusing everyone.  Cellblock wants me to do an


article on how I got started in the scene, and that brings me back


to high school.  Everyone calls me since high school Whacks.


My name is Wesley, and until my soph year everyone just called


me Wes.  But midway through the second year I became manager of this


mostly black wrestling team, and kind of discovered my sex interest,


and got invited to this 'special club'.  It was the Whiteboy Whipping


Club.  Got to laugh even now how this crazy group got started.


This is like a huge inner city school. Mostly black, and they called it


a 'magnet' school so white kids and others would voluntarily go into


it, like they'd offer some language or science or votech specialty


that in their dreams would bring kids in from the suburbs.  And what's


wierd is that liberal parents would send their little jonnnies and janies


in but in the school they'd be totally segregated.  Different floors,


classes, even cafeteria hours, so they wouldn't be intimidated.


Even so most of them left in the first months.  Course I didn't


because of my other interests.  Anyway, the school administration


decided to smooth it out with the whites by having some of the


biggest and baddest black jocks offer what they called  an


'interracial appreciation seminar'.  Within three months it got


officially disbanded because white guys were being harassed, and


white girls were getting raped and knocked up.  Anyway, what


I didn't know then was it was still going on, in someone's basement


usually.




     Anyway, I got into the athletics, to hang out with the superstar


black jocks, and do some gymnastics.  I started as a gopher type


assistant manager of the wrestling team. 




     There were about 5 black and one portuguese wrestlers that were


coming out gay, like me, and into some light spanking type games,


using a ping pong paddle.  One had this basement rec room with the


ping pong table and a sofa and a refrigerator and all.  They would invite


mostly white boys to join their club but they had this initiation thing.


Wait a minute, getting ahead of myself again.




     Of course they just didn't pick cute white boys in the hallway to


invite.  They at least had to have a reputation.  And I was beginning to


get one.  I was giving massages to a light skinned black heavyweight


on my own time.  He was a senior football player and I was just


a sophomore, smaller than I am now and I kind of pitched at him at a


sports booster rally just before Thanksgiving break.  Practically my


first gay pitch, and I was still at that time saying I was bi, and most of


my friends thought I was straight.  I even went on some group dating


with them,  meeting girls in the malls and going to movies together,


because none of us had licenses.




    Anyway, this huge stud saw my wrestling team logo, and asked about


that, and then he asked if I gave massages like they used to when he


went out for it.  I took a big chance for me and said yes.  I had no idea if


they used to give massages or not, but I got a book from the library


about it, and went to his house when his folks were out, and gave my


first massage, with him wearing only a towel.  Yes, he got hard and


when he turned over, the towel off, we were both hard.  The second


time he said his old masseuse used to give him oral relief, and I pretended


I didn't know what that meant, but had in fact given my first blowjob


to a black friend's father a year before.  So I hesitated a little, because this was


close to home, being in the same school.  But on the other hand he was


graduating soon, and then maybe we could have  a  relationship even,


nobody knowing,  my dream at the time.  A steady relationship thing.




      I had since that massage thing decided I loved being obedient to


black guys.  Their whole essence, their being, everything about them


and in this inner city high school I was dumbfounded when I saw my first


s/m interracial and gay couples, blacks on top natch.  There was some


laughing in a parking lot and by some of the sistahs,  and some black jocks


were smiling at this football nose tackle Mustapha who was taking


some bows as he led out this white boy I used to know a little, a Lowell


Prentice from Chelmsford.  I didn't even know he was gay.  He was


leading him out on a leash and dog collar, although Lowell did walk on


two legs, blushing to beat the band, I could see he was secretly pleased.


Turns out he was owned by Mustapha since the 6th grade.  I mean


I cornered Lowell the next day and had to know the details, and he gave


them to me because he had seen me go down on a black boy in the shower


room.  He was really proud of how he was Mustapha's exclusive


property now, and none of the other studs could use him without his


permission or touch him.  I got dizzy listening, my pulse pounding


through my head.  Having a black master was in every daydream from


then on.  It's easier dreamt than done though, I'm getting to that.. 




     I found out about this Black/white slavetraining group they called


the Whiteboy Whipping Club, and found that this hunky black jock


called Bigguswas a member.


I didn't even know Biggus was gay, and I probably


should have played hard to get, but I let Lowell know right away I was


interested in going out with Biggus.  Naturally he said I had to pass this


initiation thing.  The first was awkward, and painful, and I cried in my


pillow that night.  However, I was swollen hard still. and Lowell said


the next day I was an 'on trial' member.  There weren't that many


whiteboys in the club actually.  I was waiting for a call from Biggus


but got none.  Even though the next day I made it a point to say


hi to him in the hallway, and he sort of ignored me, maybe embarassed


to be seen with me with his friends.  Maybe afraid of coming out.




     I went to my fifth  initiation intro to the Whipping Club on monday


night at  Biggus' house, his basement rec room more exactly.  There


were only 4 guys there, all black, the portuguese wrestler not showing


because of a date.  Biggus is the jet black heavyweight I had flirted with


this term.  There was one other white boy there,  Mustapha's boyfriend


Lowell.




     Lowell was on a leash and collar as I expected, and Biggus,  Rufus and


Tyrone Washington were kind of giggling cause the basement door kept


opening by itself and he figured his younger sister was trying to listen in.




     Yolanda had let me in with a knowing smirk.  She's only 14 but


slutty and would prob drop out pregnant before term end.  Biggus' mom


worked off the books to collect welfare and his older brothers were both in


prison.  I had a bad experience with a black boyfriend already because he


got sent away just when I thought we might have something so I gave


a lot of thought and hope into Biggus.  First I had to troll a real sub slut


reputation around school leading to some overtures I'd just as soon


forget, and second, Biggus was a little shy compared to Tyrone, who I


knew was always coming on to me, even suggesting I be his exclusive


bitchboy.   So, it's been a rough couple of months on top of being a


minority white boy in a mostly black public school.  Anyway I really liked


Biggus a lot.  I had been going over to his house every week or so for


a month, whenever they decided I needed another 'lesson'.




     This needing another lesson was when their balls got so full and


their huge cocks wouldn't come down, and they got anxious to see some


more whiteboy suffering and slaving for them.  It wasn't often enough for


me if it was just a makeout and suckoff thing, because I had been needing


it at least once a day, but the discipline thing was another.  Once I needed


a whole week before the strap marks faded on my smooth buttcheeks


and I could sit down in comfort.  But because I wanted to be obedient


I wouldn't masturbate in between these sessions, plus I wanted to show


Biggus how good a slave I was.  In any case a lot of the marks and


sprains we got in the beginning was because the guys didn't really know


how to hurt us.  After a few sessions, they realized they could make us


suffer longer and more often if they learned what they were doing.




     I was between third and  fourth periods in the hallway of the


mostly black school,  trying to get some books from my locker when


I found out about it.  Biggus was striding down the middle of the hall,


even the gang members got out of his way, and he saw me and smirked.


Biggus Washington is 6'4 and 245 and solid muscle covered by jet


black skin.  I probably shouldn't have come right out and said I liked


him the most, because he's really arrogant now, especially with me. 


And after all the games and all, him sharing me with one or two buddies


that I don't like all that much, we still haven't gone out on an actual


date.




     "Say, Whacks," he grinned, moving in on me and pressing me against


the open locker with his huge bulk.  I smiled and looked up at him.  A


couple guys closed their lockers around me and left quickly.  "Whachu


say, whiteboy?"




     "Um, hi Biggus, nothing much I guess.  You know, 4th period


history.  Um, would you, um, like something?"   I was hoping he


would ask if I was doing anything that night, but he frowned a little.




     He put a big muscular hand on my shoulder, squeezing hard enough


to make me wince, and by his smile and the sac pushing out his


jeans,  I  knew he was primed.  "Ow, um, Biggus," I said, lowering my


voice, "um, your'e hurting me."




     He laughed, "so what, you likes to be hurt, donchu?  You say you


allus lahk it when I hurt yo lahk dis."




     I winced, as he moved his hand down, pinched my right nipple


through my nylon shirt, and then began twisting it.  I had put my hands


at my sides at first, but now I obediently held my hands behind my


back for his free access to my body.  But I still squirmed and groaned.


"Biggus, um, please.  People might notice."   He looked around a little


and grinned.




     "Ah hear you disrespectful to de bruthas today, whiteboy.  Didn't


call Tyrone 'sir' when you saw him in the hallway."




     "Um, oowwww.  Please, I thought I was supposed to be, ooohhh,


um, you know, um, discreet!"  I knew Tyrone was as horney as Biggus


and he just made all that up.  I hadn't even seen Tyrone that day.




     "Haw, he still pissed, said we gots to have another club meeting


after school, mah place.  An Rufus got a video camera, we gwine


make some home movies."




     "Oh, um, sure.  I, um, I guess."




     "Hey, punkie," Biggus frowned, pinching and twisting my


other nipple then, "we doin you a favor lettin you be ouah slave."




      "Um, I know, I mean I appreciate it.  But, um, Biggus,  I thought


you said last time that we would just be the two of us."




      "Haw, you want to get on yo knees for me, raht now, donchu?"




     I half smiled with the pain and nodded.  He made me squirm again. 


"Please, um, you should stop!  Wait till I come over and then you can


do me good.  Please, Biggus, you know it's no good if we rush it."




     "Is'e gwine make yo suffer today, dats a fact.  An Tyrone got big


painful plans for a certain whitepunk, haw, ah knows dat too."




     I was hard and dripping as I swayed on my feet, groaning as he


twisted my left nipple, "yes,um, yes sir.  I-I'll be there."  At this point


even with other students walking down the hallway I wanted to kneel


and kiss his feet.  He seemed to be satisfied, and he left me panting


there, my chest and shoulder sore.  And then I turned and saw why


he left so abruptly,  the principal was walking down the hall, and he


gave me a very forbidding look.  The tall muscular black man made


everyone start to their classes, and I felt ashamed that I still had that


residual erection from being dominated by Biggus, as I covered myself


with a bookbag, and he gave me another frowning look, as I tried


to turn sideways.  He paused near me, and while I wanted to turn


my back, I also wanted to discreetly look at him.  Principal Lucius


Jackson had been a fantasy for me.  So big, ex militray, solid,


musclebound, and Black!. Fortunately, some commotion drew his


attention and I watched his back slabs of muscle move away from me.


I kind of had the impression he wanted to speak with me.




     It was really hard to concentrate the rest of the day, and I


immediately got on my bike and pedalled as fast as I could to


Biggus' house, three miles from the school, and I knew I was late


because I had two extra classes that they didn't have.  I also knew


the ride back wasn't going to be that comfortable with a red bottom.


I was let in by his younger sister, and went down to their


basement recroom he had turned into this makeshift sort of dungeon,


even though it was still a couch and a ping pong table and a bar,






     "Hi guys," I said, wearing my thin shorts, my heavy genital sac


outlined perfectly, as I stood in front of the couch.  Biggus and Tyrone


were already naked, and hard and dripping.  Biggus was absently


moving his hand over his huge 11 incher.  Tyrone spread his muscular


thighs, arching back, grinning at me.




    "You late, whiteboy!," Tyrone remarked.




     "But, um, sir,  I didn't hear until 3rd period today you wanted a session!"




     Biggus leaned back, one arm on the back of the courh, arrogantly looking


at me gaze at his huge black organ, as he moved it to stand straight up.




     Tyrone smiled, "no excuses bitch, dat means we work you ovah extra


today!"  I knew I wasn't late at all, but it didn't do any good now.  I lowered


my head.




     "Why aint you stripped, stupid?"




     "Oh, I'm sorry, sirs,"  as I moved across the room and quickly slipped


everything off, and erect as I always was beginning a dom/sub scene,  I returned


to stand in front of the couch.  Naked except for a ringed dog collar I had


bought at KMart,   I blushed as they smiled at me, making me


turn around, seeing if the previous marks had faded.  I think they were pissed


at me not because I was late, but because they had gotten here earlier, and


Mustafa wouldn't allow Lowell to do anything for them.  Mustafa was very


selfish about his slave, and sure enough, he had the slim white boy kneeling


between his thighs, his mouth nursing on his hard black cock as usual. Mustafa


was a maca root user, plus some other stuff, and had a constant set of full balls


and hard cock, plus he just liked a whiteboy slave orally worshipping him all the


time.  When he came he came in quarts, slowly, and Lowell would slowly


suck and swallow all afternoon, lick his balls and anus clean, kiss his feet,


and return to holding the huge black cock in his mouth till the next cum.  It was


almost a perfect relationship I thought.  Biggus and Tyrone were starting on


the root themselves, and I had been on it for three months now.  It doesn't work


with everyone, but africans seemed to thrive on it, maybe even more than


yojimbe root.  They get a long deep copious orgasm out of it.




     Biggus grinned,  "yeah, yo ass be ready for another weltin aw raht.  But


Tyrone want to do some other stuff dis tahm!"




     I sighed, my cock getting harder now.  "(moan) yes sir!"




    "But," he added, stroking himself, "mebbe you can change our minds about


dat, whachu think, whiteboy?"  This is the kind of wierd improvised way they


ran the club.  They'd get excited about abusing us, and getting more excited


after doing it, that they'd need periodic makeout, some stuff like that, and


it put me off at first, but I had gotten used to it now.




     "Yes sir, um, I, um, mean I'd like to try sir."  He motioned me to approach


so I took my hands from behind my back, because this was a signal I was first


taught.  My first group encounter, whiteboys and black masters, was actually


a makeout session and I liked that there was always this element no matter what


else we did.  I think this started last year when some guys were just coming out


and they did some makeout stuff in parked cars to get going.  I knelt between


Biggus' legs, my own groin pressed against his belly, feeling his hardon run


up my butt.  Then I took put my hands behind his head, and pressed my lips


against his huge negroe lips, frenching him deeply, slipping my tongue in.




    (Smack! Kiss!)   'Mmmmm', I moaned, deepkissing him. Feeling his eager


huge tongue fence with mine.  Then, both of us panting, he pushed me over


to Tyrone, as I changed position.    I was reluctant to move from Biggus, cuz


I could deepkiss with him forever and he knew it. I moved to straddle Tyrone's


lap and upright dripping black phallus, seeing his arrogant expression.




    I smiled at him, putting my hands in back of his head, my hardon now pressing


against his belly.  He was so anxious to see me suffer now, and I wanted to


frenchkiss him for a bit.




     "Yeah, bitchboy," he grinned, "beg all yo wants to, but ah gwine love to see


you under mah paddle today, dat de trufe!"




     I shivered, moaning softly, and smiled wider, and frenched him passionately,


drooling into his huge lips, our tongues making love.  We alternated like that


a while, talking a bit,  them teasing and my kissing and begging.  I felt Tyrone's


familiar huge broad black knob being aimed at my anus, which I spread as I


spread my cheeks as wide as they would go, and squirmed as he slipped the


knob in, and we continued frenching that way.  I wanted so badly to slip down


his huge thick length, feeling it impale me, but he wouldn't allow me to.




    "Naw," he teased, as we broke apart, panting, "yo gots to earn dat, whitey.


You gots to suffer fo dat black meat today, haw!"  There was no way to


reply to that, so I slipped my tongue in his mouth again. I would have


begged to slide down on his pole but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction


just yet.  Finally, Biggus broke it up, getting jealous of how Tyrone was


hogging me, I hoped anyway.




     "Get de paddle, bitch!"




    (gulp)  "Yes sir," I said, climbing off Tyrone's lap and walking to the


cabinet they kept their toys in.  There were two kinds of ping pong paddles,


and I chose the rubber coated kind, and brought two back with me.


Mustafa was laying out a bunch of colored pincher type clothespins and


grinned at me.  Lowell still had his face buried and was deepthroating


his master.




     After I handed out the paddles, everyone said they needed another beer


so I ran to the back room, my hardon swaying and spraying spittle, and


brought them back, although I did slug some water while I was there.




     Standing in front awaiting orders,  Biggus handed me a dog leash,


which I immediately hooked to my dog collar ring, and Tyrone took


the other end while Biggus arranged his stiff thick meat.  He looked down


and grinned at all the thick precum running down his cock and over his


huge inflated balls.




     Tyrone cackled, "yo sho gettin messy, bro.  Yo momma gwine bitch


about stains on de couch if yo not careful."  Of course his own cock had


just as much spittle running down, but I said nothing.  Biggus shrugged,




    "Yo, boy," he said to me,  "best do some mouf cleanin on yo betters!"




     I licked my lips, nodding, suppressing a moan.  "Yes sir," as I quickly


fell to my knees between his thighs.  Biggus had prespermed so much a


lot of people would think he had already cum, except it was not really


the thick whitish cum he usually sprays.  It was watery, warm, all over


his huge veiny cock, his bloated balls and even drops on his curly pubic


hair.  Laving and kissing all over his genitals, I tried not to moan as I


slurped and licked him clean, which took several minutes, and his


cock was still pulsing it out, and would until he creamed.  But, licking


my lips, at least he wouldn't run quite so much onto the vinyl as I


leaned back, smiling up at his face.




      "What about me, whiteboy?" Tyrone asked, with an arrogant grin.




       I looked at Biggus, who nodded, and I shifted over on my knees to


between Tyrone's huge legs.




      Actually I was grateful he made me, because as I looked at his groin, it


was apparent that earlier Tyrone must have accidentally creamed, because


he still had warm runny gobs of old sperm mixed with his new precream,


all over his cock and balls, thighs, and even up to his hard belly.




     Biggus grinned, "you drop a load earlier today, bro?"




     "Aw, dat Mustafa here, he be so jealous of his whitebitchboy.  Ah tried


to stop it, but ah came a little bit."




     Mustafa was wounded, and stopped midway in slugging down his beer,


"hey what?  Ah tole you his mouth was only for mah loads, bro.  Ah caint


hep it if you didn't hears me!"




      Biggus laughed at that.  To tell the truth I thought Mustafa was selfish


as well, but who was I to speak.  Biggus has been letting Tyrone have me


since day one, even though he knows I have a lot of issues with him.


I mean I thought Tyrone was a super stud and all, and he was.  Just not as


thoughtful as Biggus and so arrogant, in a way that both appealed to me


and made me hate him at times.




     Tyrone leaned back with an smile and spread his legs, lifting them up


and grabbing his ankles, so his jet black buttcheeks were spread and his


pink anus was perfectly displayed.  Sperm drops had run down his crack


over his sweaty ebony buttcheeks.




     "Hey bro, " he laughed, "ah think ah need a good tongue cleanin den.


Yo finished kissin de white slut ainchu?"




     Biggus grinned, "go ahead, bro."




     Tyrone looked smugly at me from between his upraised thighs,


"you hears de man, dummy.  Get dose white lips in mah crack an ah wants


some deep cleanin."




     My cock was seeping as I looked at his puckered anal ring.  When we


had those first makeout sessions in Mustafa's borrowed van, it was Tyrone


and not Biggus who first had me, my first blow job, first fuck, and of course


my first rim job.  That is of the group.  It wasn't the first time I had probed


a negroe anus with my tongue but pretty close.  I moaned and nodded,


and bent forward, holding his hips, and pressed my face in his crack,


slipped my tongue out, and ran it down,and then up, pausing over his anus,


and further up, to lick the juice off his bloated balls, and the sides


of his scrotum.




     I was slurping and licking pretty good as Tyrone chortled, and he was pretty


clean when I deliberately moved my mouth to his anus, and gave it a deep kiss.


Then keeping contact, getting dizzy with my raging hardon,  I slipped my


long agile tongue in.  Tyrone writhed on my tongue, groaning, his cock getting


harder.  I sucked and tongued and kissed his anus and would have continued


but Biggus got impatient, and finally gave his now open puffy anus a deep


worshipping wet kiss and leaned back, rocking back on my ankles, looking


up at Tyrone's smug excited face with a sincere warm smile.




      "Thank you sir," I said, licking my lips.




      Ten minutes later I was sweating and writhing on Biggus's lap,


our hard cocks jammed against each other as he welted my bubble butt with


the paddle.I had cried out, and shook and writhed, but was trying to hold


it in, which of course was only a matter of time.  I didn't have a high pain


threshhold, and one of the things that got me special treatment into this


club originally was that Lowell told me that I was the first whiteboy who


cried under the punishment.  He told me how the brothers jeered and derided


me but actually it was very erotic to them.  I started crying a couple of times


over Biggus, but it hadn't been long enough punishment.  But midway


after shifting to Tyrone where he added a second set of strokes, I


began sobbing between cries of pain.  It hurt!  Tyrone loved it, my pain,


my crying, and my begging, and the more I did the harder he got.




      What worried me is that they were slugging beer pretty fast as well,


and I was afraid they might mishit me, hit something like a rib or something.


But they didn't.  Even Mustafa later after they put me in some bondage, and


he was attaching clothespins to my nipples and genitals, my sobbing and


crying out between pins, even as he slugged can after can of beer, he did


a good job.  As good a job as I could tell at that stage.




      I wasn't sure at what point I was released and kneeling on the floor in


a pool of my own sweat, welts and pincher marks all over my front and back.


But I knew they released me because it had gone on long enough and it was


time to satisfy big black turgid cock.   I could tell that Biggus was in my


my mouth immediately by the taste of his mammoth man spreader.  So


that huge hot slick knob sliding in my anus must be Tyrone.




     SLAP!  I groaned as the crack on my butt.  Yup, only Tyrone spanks me


while he fucks me.  I couldn't deepthroat Biggus as much as I tried, but


Tyrone eventually sank balls deep in me, making me writhe and groan,


wriggling like a fish on a hook.   They needed to get off too hard to make it


really last, and even before they came I had begun spraying wads of sperm


as Tyrone's giant organ slid in and out of my ass, violating me mercilessly.


My orgasm went on and on, until finally, after a lot of slapping and pinching


of my nipples by Biggus's strong hands, I groaned as I felt Tyrone jetting


wad after hot heavy creamy wad into my bowels.  Then Biggus's precream


increased in volume, and he pulled out,  and i sobbed in frustration, but


he grunted, laughed, and masturbated the first burst into my open mouth.




      "YEAHH!  he grunted,  as i caught a burst of hot sperm in my face, licking


it off my cheek.  The next wad i mostly caught in my mouth.   Now that he


was steadily cumming, he slipped his knob back in my worshipping mouth


and roughly gripped my hair, facefucking me.  I nursed and sucked and


swallowed, even as Tyrone finished pumping my anus, and began to slip out.




     I sobbed with disappointment as his huge cock popped from my anus,


even as I was gratefully licking Biggus clean.




     After that we kind of layed with each other on the couch, entwined,


after I knelt down and orally cleaned Tyrone off once again.  We all had beers


this time, even Lowell and myself.  I don't know if Mustafa had creamed


again in his mouth but by Lowell's dreamy worshipful expression every time


he gazed at his master, it would not surprise me.




     Of course one load after a couple of pent up days wasn't nearly enough


for super studs like these huge negroes, and they were all hard again, and


my own cock, with my drying sperm all over my thighs and balls dripping


down, was also half hard.




     I was sort of making out with Biggus, and Tyrone announced he had


to piss like a racehorse.  Then Biggus said the same thing, and so did Mustafa,


who couldn't quite hide his smile in his voice, so I knew this was set up.




     Biggus stood up, taking one end of my leash, so I knelt on the floor before


them.  "Got the camera, bro?"   Tyrone said yes, and he laughed.




     "Let's take some animal pictures, bro.  In the bathroom."




     I crawled on the leash to the tiled downstairs bathroom, where a dog dish


was put on the floor.  Mustafa had Lowell also crawling on a leash, and his huge


glistening black cock was seen, so rarely because Lowell always had it in his


mouth.  I was surprised when Tyrone brought in the camera.  They were


going to videotape this!




     "I thought we should record this, sort of a whitey submission day fo the


club," he grinned.   At that  he started filming at Mustafa,  who grinned, preening


himself for the camera a little, ordering his slave to kiss his bare feet, and then


open his mouth for his urinal.  Lowell couldn't wait, and even as Mustafa pushed


his huge organ to his lips, holding it out so we could see the stream, he kissed


and licked the knob in anticipation.  Finally Mustafa sighed, and a hot amber


stream began to hit his mouth, some spilling out.  Lowell tried to keep up, but


Mustafa deliberately sprayed his face and neck a couple of times, and Lowell's


cock got rock hard, even as hot piss drops ran down his chest to his groin.




     "Yeah, " Biggus said, admiring it.  "Thats the way to keep a white bitchboy


in line, bro.  Spay dat sissy mouth!"




     After Mustafa was finished,  Biggus said he and Tyrone had to do something


different.  So they first just filmed me kneeling on the floor, and asked me to


answer questions.




     Tyrone asked first, after making sure everyone saw my new welts and marks


as well as the heavy sperm running from my puffy anus.




     "Dis ouah new whiteboy slave.  Tell de world you wants to be ouah new


urinal.  Go ahead stupid!  Tell em you wants to suck ouah niggajuice fo us."




     I blushed, staring at the camera lens held by Mustafa this time.  "Um, sir,


um, (groan) yes.  Owww!  yes sir!  I want to be your urinal, sirs!"  I answered


truthfully.  First Tyrone filled the dog bowl, and I lapped from that, but he


then pissed directly in my mouth, which I liked better, slurping and swallowing


it for the camera.  Biggus had a better idea, he said, making me lie down


on my back in the bathtub.  Mustafa leaned over, aiming the camera down at me.


He lifted one muscular leg up and put it on the edge of the tub so Lowell could


squat under him and rim him while he did it.




      Biggus stood holding his mammoth black organ and I knew that after drinking


all that beer he had to really piss like a horse.




     "I think dis time, punkie," he said smugly down at me, "you gots to do


yo part.  Lots of de bruthas don understand what we doin here,  and how to


train white sissyboys like you.  So ahm goin to give you a shower, haw, haw.


But you think you can beat off before ah'm finished?"




     I looked up and blinked, the camera was still rolling.  "Um, I think so,


sir!"




     "haw, "Biggus laughed, looking proudly at the camera.  "White sissies


lahk dese be taught to cream on command.  Sometimes when we whip


dere butts or when dey suck us off.  Dis be a first for de club." Looking


down at me, he grinned, "whatchu think about dis, punkie?"




     I swallowed, looking up, my hand already stroking my hardon. I loved


being degraded like this.  Thinking of the hard black cocks looking at this,


blushing at the thought of people in school I didn't even know seeing me,


then seeing me in the hallways, maybe having me get on my knees for a


strange new demanding black cock, mmmm.




     "Um, sir," I said to him, "I think I would rather just drink your piss


normally, sir."




     "Haw, but ah ain't givin yo a choice, slutboy!  Now, start beatin off


cuz ah gots to drain de main vein bad!"   I began stroking, and watching


his cock, closed my eyes as i got showered by his hot acrid amber piss.


Feeling it run down my chest, I moaned, shuddering, beating off harder


as everyone laughed.  I couldn't believe Biggus had that much piss,


but at least after playing it over me once, he aimed at my open mouth,


and after I swallowed a couple of healthy mouthfulls, I started creaming,


and the camera panned back, to catch my spraying of wads over my own


chest even as I swallowed another mouthful of Biggus wonderful hot


piss.  They ran out of film unfortunately, because it cut short.  Afterwards


I kissed Biggus bare feet to thank him, wishing that was on camera as well.



      We had to break it up because it had gone on too long, and Biggus could


only keep the rec room until 7.  I sucked him and Tyrone off a last adoring


time, knelt and kissed their feet in thanks, and took a quick shower.




     I was outside getting on my bike when I realized how sore my butt was,


and the riding gingerly home, groaned as I thought of who would see that


tape.




     To my surprise several days later I had overslept and my mom was


yelling at me, saying I was going to be late for school. 




     Pedalling as fast as I could I just made it to 3rd period, and the mostly


black faces laughed as I dashed in, but Mr Jenkins the teacher handed me


a note to go to the principal's office.  Gulp!  It couldn't be because of my


being late, and I was a pretty good student, so I'm thinking the tape must


have gotten circulated.  The principal I said already is this muscled-up,


ex-military guy sent in to straighten out the gang problem, big, beefy,


baldheaded and black as spades.   Lucius Jackson is his name, about 40 years old


and to tell the truth I used to fantasize about him a lot in the beginning of


the term, until I figured out what a waste of time that was.




     I knocked softly on the door, and he ordered (ordered, mmm) me to


enter, so I did, and he had my shut the door.  He was leaning back in his


swivel chair, his muscled arms in back of his head showing in his short


sleeved summer weight shirt.




     "Well, young master Collins," he said, lowering an arm and looking


at his watch, "at last!"  I thought he pronounced 'master' with a little


twist and wondered if it was being sarcastic or something else.




     "Um, sorry sir, I, um, must have overslept today."  Oh Gawd he was


handsome!  Big muscular face, big thick lips and white teeth, and powerful,


cruel-looking veiny hands.  I took a chair because despite my blushing


and nervousness I was getting a rock creep up, and needed to straighten


it discreetly.  But I thought I could tell by his look he knew I had a growing


boner I had to shift.  I wonder what they did in the Marines anyway.




     "Did I say you could sit down?"




     I blushed, standing up,  "Sorry sir!"  Knowing he could see my


erection bulge for sure.




      "Well, Mr. Collins, do you have any idea why I sent for you this


morning?"




     "Um," biting my lip,  I hesitantly shook my head negative, "um, no, I


ah, don't think so sir."  He looked doubtful at that.




     "Really?  Mmmm.  Well this morning right after first bell the security


guard at the main entrance confiscated a backpack from a certain Tyrone.


He thought it was drugs, but it was actually a videotape."  I lowered my


head, breathing hard.




      "He said he was just going to show it to some friends, but I thought


I had to make sure, you know, that it wasn't porno or some such. 


A principal can get into more trouble letting porno get into school property


than drugs, did you know that?"




      I weakly said I didn't know that.  But then a fleeting hope entered my


mind, maybe he hadn't seen it!  Maybe I could just take it back home.


And then I noticed the tv and vcr setup on a typing stand.  Naturally,


how else could he make the connection to me if he hadn't watched the


tape?  Jeez I was stupid!




     "Um, yes sir, I'm sorry."




     "Your'e sorry!  And for what are you sorry?"




     "Um, I mean I'm sorry the tape was made, and um, Tyrone brought it


to school, " trying to not admit anything personal.




     He looked at me hard,  "I just watched the tape, Mr. Collins.  I  would


say you were the star."




     Moaning, I blushed more,  "um, well, um, sir, I ah, didn't have much


you know, choice, um about it!  I promise I won't do it again, sir!"




     "You didn't have to be there, did you?  You went there voluntarily


didn't you?"   I had to nod, no point in denying anything.  So he surprised


me by smiling,  "but I have some good news.  Tyrone was going to use


the lab to make copies, so I think this is the only copy in existence."




     I was relieved to hear that, and it must have shown on my face.




     "I wanted to tell you this, Collins.  And I am curious about a few things.


Ain't that many white boys in this school, and the few who are...  They


all like you?"




     "Excuse me, sir?"




     "All sub.  You know slave sissyboys?"




     I shrugged, not knowing them all, and he continued, smiling wider.  "You


know Collins, it's funny talking to you, because you haven't yet tried to lie


to me.  Might not volunteer anything but I don't think your'e capable of


lying to a black man, are you?"




      I paused, "um, well."  He was right,  it would be a form of disobedience.


I had never really thought of it like that, but it was true.




      He grinned, "Ah got to tell you it's a big difference from talking to the


bruthas and sistah who get sent here.  I don't think Iv'e ever hear one tell the


truth.  So I think I'm going to ask you some more because it's such a unique


opportunity for me, you understand?"  He continued as I nodded.




     "Watching the tape, I was interested in Mustafa's relationship with young


Lowell."  Pausing, he indicated I should comment.  So he prompted me.


"What do you think that relationship is, young Collins?"




     "Um, Lowell's his slave, sir," I came right out and said.




     "Obviously.  And he uses a lot of sex virility boosts, like the maca root,


for example."  I remained silent.  "Is that common, do you all use it?"




     I nodded, "it's this year's sex herb, sir.  I use it with other things. But


Mustafa really took off with it."  He wanted me to explain.




     "Um, well, he got like constant hard, and needed to cum, heavy, lots of


times.  He collared Lowell a couple months ago."




     "Yeah, I see, and you serve Tyrone and Biggus, is that right?"




     "um, well, I thought it would just be Biggus, but, um, yes sir."




     "But you'd like to be collared by one or both of them, be their slave?"




     Nodding,  I blushed.  He grinned.




     "You want to be a black man's slave, don't you boy?  You can't lie


to any black man because you want to be obedient to all blacks, that it?"


I nodded again.




      "Gotta tell you, boy, it's a relief to hear you say that, so refreshing.


And Mustafa is much better behaved in school since he enslaved Lowell.


In fact Biggus and Tyrone haven't got in as much trouble this year either,


probably thanks to you."




     "Um, thanks sir."




     "Do you have an erection right now, boy?"




     I started, surprised, and sheepishly admitted it,  "yes sir."




     "Because your'e sexually attracted to me?"




     Sighing, "yes sir," I moaned.




     "Mmmmm, you know I was particularly interested in the maca root


on the tape, because a few months ago I bought some on the internet.


And I've found myself much like Mustafa, before he found Lowell,


anxious all the time, irritable, even kind of mean streak at times.  Like


now."




     I looked up into his eyes, and despite the black skin, could see the


the sex desire, from watching that tape probably.




     "Stand up straight, boy," he said, as I did so, blushing because my boner was


so obvious now.  "Come over to my side of the desk now."  I did as I


was told, and he spun the chair to me, and I gasped.  He wore no pants


at all, spreading his muscular thighs, and his genitals!  His thick drooling


12 inch black erection, and grapefruit sized horseballs resting half over


the edge of the chair.  He wore no underwear but he still wore his


socks and black shiny shoes.




      He smiled, reaching and hefting his thick hardon with one big hand


that still could not encircle it.  "I think I'll give you a few orders now, and


see if you really are obedient, boy."  I swallowed and nodded, and he


grinned.




      "Kneel down, whiteboy!" and I did so immediately, licking my lips.


"We got a little arrangement now, sissy!  Nobody sees this tape as long as


you take care of my needs, morning, afternoon, whenever I call you.


I live alone, so you will come to my place anytime I call you, understand


that, sissy?"




     "Um, (gulp)  yes sir, I do."




      I knelt closer, and pressed my soft lips to his hot hard glistening


shaft, tasting his precum. 




     "Haw, you gwine give me toe kisses, ass sucks,  and ah welt yo butt


anyway, you know that, whitepunk?"




     Moaning I licked up and down his huge shaft, and began swabbing his


full balls with my tongue.  I undid my pants during this and slid them down


allowing my big hardon to sway, dripping precum on the floor.  I spent a long


time just licking his genitals clean, and as I lapped his huge heavy black


balls, he surprised me by leaning way back on his chair, and putting one


foot on his desk and the other on a bookcase, arching his ass up to my


face. 




     "Dat's right, whitepunk,  you best get used to deep kissin yo black


master, everywhere, fum now on."   Jeesh, you know what I thought then


was how he talked like brer bear at this point, because it was so niggerish


it turned me on even more.  Kneeling with my face looking directly at


his winking pink anus,  I thanked him even as I covered both of his


sweaty asscheeks with a kiss each, and then ran my tongue up his


hot sweaty asscrack, pausing over his puckered anus, to give it a tongue


kiss, and then after several kisses and licks,  I probed him deep. He moaned


and twisted a little then.




     "Yeah, whiteboy, worship yo black master now, haw, dats it!"  I love


the taste of a black man's anus anyway, but a dom black man making me do


it, almost making me cream by myself, as I worshipped him as I always


wanted to do, finally,  so grateful I wanted to thank him for allowing me


to,




     "( Slurp, kiss, lick, kiss, mmmmm, sigh) oh, thank you sir."


even as he rose up and rocked back so I


could spear his puckered anus with my tongue and kisses, but finally he


roughly grabbed my hair and pushed my face down on his knob, half


deep throating him, coating my mouth with presperm as he was seeping


so much.   He facefucked me then, but stopped, pausing and gasping, as


his huge cock inflated, and I felt its slit spitting out hot wads of sperm.




     I had a sympathy orgasm as I swallowed my first mouthful, and he


was so right, the maca root had boosted him big.  He came hard at first,


and then slowed down, but it didn't stop, and he didn't soften that much.


He creamed and creamed, and I gulped and purred.  Even after he stopped


he seeped some more, softened a bit, and then hardened again. He had me


raise my pink butt for his long plastic ruler while I continued to nurse on


his delicious still seeping cock.  Groaning with the blows,  I made it a


little ritual of it like I did with Biggus and Tyrone.  Every time he hurt


me it was obligation to gently kiss his knob and lick his precream.


I stayed there for 45 minutes, until I heard the first bell, and he began to move. 




     Slipping my mouth off and moving back,  his face was arrogant but


also more relaxed, and grinned when I dizzily raised my head, licking his


sperm from the corner of my mouth, my face flushed, and my still hard cock


standing straight up.




     "Should I leave now, Mr. Jackson?"




     "Haw, not yet, whiteboy.  Ah always wanted a whiteboy shoeshine.


Lick the toes of mah shoes shiny, boy, an do a good job or ah use de


ruler on yo butt again."




     I shivered with the humiliation, my cock got even harder, as I smiled


and gratefully nodded.  Moving back, I laved my tongue over the toe of


his right shoe, alternately kissing it.  Sighing, it was a perfect way to end


the session.    I was so happy to show my worship of a black master this


way I almost came again onto the floor.




     The next day I caught his eye in the crowded hallway, and he came over


and prodded me in the chest with his finger. 




     "Your'e late again, young Collins?"




      "Um, oh, um, yes, Mr. Jackson," I said, even though I wasn't, but


I lowered my voice, and added, "I am late, sir, and should be punished,"


with a half smile, but by his expression felt I overstepped myself."




     I swallowed, as other students looked over,  gazing up at his black


scowling face.  I was so afraid he might have changed his mind that I


almost cracked a smile of relief, as I looked anxiously up at his face.


I admitted straight faced that I was late, and he gripped my arm hard


enough to make me wince and shiver, I agreed to be in his office at


my empty third period.




    We both knew what was going to happen then, and as the students


milled past us,  I could feel his erection against my side.  After the


second bell, the hallway was empty, and he stepped back and pointed


at his shoes.  I smiled, looked around to make sure nobody was watching,


but the door was locked now, and i gratefully knelt, slobbering over his


shoes with kisses and licks.




     "Do a good job, shoeshine boy!"



     Leaving a kiss on his leather toe,  I shifted my own hardon, and


smiled sincerely up at him, "thank you sir,  I promise I will."




     I shifted my hardon straight as he smugly walked off, and I wondered


how I could concentrate in class till then, and didn't really care..


*****************************************************************




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