Thug Tales: The Gelding

(For the Blogger censors ... this a work of FICTION - any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. Language, situations and behaviors are only utilized within the confines of the post to enhance the story itself and do not represent any real-life circumstances in any way.)

BRIAN/JOAO

Up until now, my life had been planned down to the finest detail by my well-to-do parents; Political Science degree from Columbia University, internship with a US Senator, then a job in the State Department eventually leading to a cushy diplomatic post somewhere. But that night with the black thug changed me. REALLY changed me. It wasn't just the fact he radically altered the way I looked, but I had never felt so amazingly ... valuable ... as when he was raping me and forcing his fist and arm into my ass.

When I got back to my dorm room, I stripped naked and looked in the mirror. I no longer saw Brian Hogan; I saw a collared, well-built slave-boy whose sole purpose in life was to pleasure sex-hungry, muscular black men. And it felt absolutely and completely right. My cock was swollen and purpled with need and it didn't take more than a couple of pulls before the orgasm of my life sizzled through me like a bolt of lightning. I couldn't wait to experience that complete brutality and utter subjugation at the hands of a savage African stud once again.

I located a dingy, furnished room near the off-campus gym I used and paid six months in advance. I quit school and on the same day, packed a single large dufflebag, walking out of my dorm and my old life forever. My new life as a slave was just beginning.

First thing I needed was a new identity. Luckily for me, the crazy-ass mayor had recently introduced the ability for illegal aliens to obtain ID cards. I barely got a second glance as filled out the paperwork, got a photograph taken and after a two-hour wait, "Joao Batista" left the building.

I drew a cash advance on my credit card and walked into Red Rocket Tattoo. I told them what I wanted and after a few, "You absolutely sure, dude?"s, I walked out with the word PROPERTY inked across my shoulders in large black letters. I drew cash advances as often as I could and then cut the cards up. I was determined to leave no trail of my old life to my new one.

Without the burden of school, classes or grades, I spent several hours every day at the gym and built up my physique even more. I kept up shaving myself totally hairless that the black gang-banger had forcibly started and combined with my new ink, I was rewarded with several violent, heavy-duty ass-rapes in the shower and locker rooms on a regular basis.

But that wasn't enough. I also started trawling gay bars at night and hit the jackpot. There was never a dearth of well-built, well-hung black guys that wanted a piece of me, and I was always eager to please. There were times I could barely walk after a night of multiple men splitting me open, but I considered that a necessary evil in my transition. No pain, no gain. And I made enough money in these encounters for necessities.

I found out about the Greasetank after a particularly brutal suck-and-fuck session with a black construction worker. This guy had just come off work and was still in his jeans and hardhat when we met. I was leaning against a storefront and a knowing look passed between us - we quickly headed off and found a quiet alley. He unbuttoned his jeans; I knelt down and gave his thick nine inches a thorough throat massage and when he was ready to erupt, I shucked down my pants and had him ram his horsecock up my chute. He jackhammered me without mercy and then unloaded a bucketful of cum into my ass.

"Dat wuz good, whiteboy. Reel good. You shood go tah da Greasetank - you'z a natural." He stroked the slave ink exposed across my shoulders.

"What's that?"

He wiped his dripping cock off on the hem of my tank shirt and threw a twenty on the ground. "Sex club on Tenth an' 135th Street."

So I decided to see for myself.

* * *

The Greasetank opened around 8:30pm every night. About a block before I reached the club, I ducked into the space between two buildings and stripped down to just a ragged, dirty jockstrap and worn sneakers. I balled my clothes and wallet into a plastic bag and shoved it into a small opening below a set of concrete steps. I felt somewhat apprehensive being almost naked as I left the alley but that soon vanished as I walked towards the club. This was just another step towards my complete and permanent transformation into a black man's slave. Between my physique, my ink and the substantial bulge beneath the thin material at my crotch, I knew I was going to see plenty of action tonight. The night was hot and humid; in a few moments, a fine sheen of sweat covered my entire body.

The club was housed in a large converted warehouse in the middle of a run-down block, and I immediately started getting some heated looks from the rough-trade clientele heading in the same direction. I got on the queue and waited to get in.

"Hey boy... you ain't supposed to get naked until *after* you get into the club..." A burly leatherman in a Muir cap and sweats squeezed the pouch of my jock with a gloved hand. His eyes widened in surprise as he encountered the CB-6000 locked onto my cock.

"I didn't know the rules, Sir. Slaves don't own clothes, Sir. Slaves don't Breed, Sir. Slaves GET Bred, Sir... And fisted." I'd left the key with my other stuff in the alley.

"Good findin' a whiteboy who knowz hiz place." A bass growl said directly behind me. I felt rough fingers slide across the "PROPERTY" tat across my back then grab my shoulder and spin me roughly around. I looked up into the hard, whiskey-brown eyes of a heavily-built black man about 6'5" and 250 pounds of solid muscle. There was power in that voice. And menace. His track jacket was half zipped to show incredibly slabbed pecs bisected by leather straps and his long powerful legs were encased in skin-tight leather pants and tall harness motorcycle boots. A tightly cropped black beard did nothing to hide the strong jaw and chiseled lines of his face.

My expression must have said it all. "You wiff me tonight, slave-boy..." He wrapped a muscled arm around me and we entered the club together.


RAY-RAY/CHARLIE

After a particularly bad day on patrol - and getting chewed out (plus stripped naked, cuffed, punishment-fucked and thrown into a holding cell) by Sarge - I was in an incredibly foul mood. On the way home, I grabbed a white guy and dragged him into an alley. I pistol-whipped him unconscious and then cleaned the cash out of his wallet. The gun - as well as other stuff like cash and jewelry - I had taken out of the evidence locker; there were plenty of items in there that  'Ray-Ray Johnson' owned now.

After I got to my apartment, I kitted up to head over to the Greasetank for some recreation. "Recreation" in this case was going to be a variety of asses that I was going to fuck and fist until the sun came up. Just like a sex-hungry muscle-brutha with a lengthy criminal record should.

I had started doing hardcore gay videos at the sex club as well - it was mindblowing to rape a musclepuppy or a whiteboy on camera or be part of a group-sex scene and then watch myself on the jumbotron screens throughout the club. They also sold DVD copies and those went like hotcakes.

My handball skills were definitely improving - a couple of times I had been able to duplicate Tommy Namisato's accomplishment and had gotten my entire arm to the shoulder up some willing muscle-bottom's hole.

Under my track suit, I was wearing a heavy leather harness that showed off my pecs and thick straps around my biceps and wrists. I had a black leather codstrap enclosing my junk and framing my ass; the overfilled snap-on-pouch had a blue strip running down its center. My black jumpboots gleamed with a fresh coating of polish in the dim evening light and I could feel a light layer of sweat cover my brown-skinned body. I also was wearing my butt-sphere - I loved the feeling of fullness and the buzz it gave my prostate as it rubbed against it every time I moved.

I entered the club and put my suit and wallet into a locker and tucked the key into my boot.

Leaving the changing room, I spotted a familiar face. "Yo, Adrian!!!" and loped over to the massive black man near the bar. He was wearing tight leather pants, a harness and tall boots.

Adrian Weaver's bearded face split into wide smile. We grabbed each other and our mouths met in a brutal kiss. Our dark hands traveled over our muscled bodies until we finally broke for air.

"Ray-Ray ... ain't seen you inna couple ov dayz, man... how you doin'?"

"Been fuckin' busy... firs' time Ah gotz a chance tah chillax dis week..." Of course, no one here knew I was a cop. Sort of. Or that I used to be white, either.

His fingers twisted the plug in my butt and I hissed in pleasure. "When you gonna lemme fuck you, bruh? Ah kin promiss it'll be sumpthin' you iz nevva gonna fo'getz..."

"Soon az you letz me fist yo' ass..." I chuckled. "Ah'm sure Ah kin getz past mah elbow inta dem tight black gutz ov  yo's..." I rested my muscular arm on his cheeks and critically observed how far it extended up his back. "Yeah ... dat an' mebbe mo'..." He laughed and rubbed my sweaty glutes.

I looked around the club and noticed it was particularly crowded being the middle of the week. "Sumpthin' speshul goin' on t'night? Seems d'ere's a reel buzz in da air..."

He grinned. "Right on da money, bruh. Ah gotz mahself a white slave-boy an' he be da main attrac-shun."

"How you find 'im?"

"He found ME. Walk'd up tah da club one night in jus' a jockstrap an' wanted tah be own'd. Shav'd completely smooth wiff "PROPERTY" ink'd 'cross hiz back. Cock an' balls alreddy lock'd up inna CB6000. When he ain't naked, Ah keepz him seal'd in full rubber. He luvz it."

Adrian paused. "He be gettin' nutted live on camera. Dat's why we gotz a big crowd here t'night."

"Fuck you!" I sombered. "Iz dat legit? You don' want sumpthin' like dat bitin' you in da ass..."

He shook his head. "Signed an' notarized contract. All legal-like. Slave-boy gave me irrevocable power ov attorney an' permisshun tah castrate him. Gotz it on videotape az well. Afta he getz nutted, Ah'm gonna finish dat tat on hiz back tah 'clude mah name."

He motioned me to follow him. "Wanna see 'im? He be in one ov da playrooms right now suckin' off bruthas. C'mon... seemz he cain't nevva getz 'nuff cum down hiz throat o' up hiz ass."

* * *

We threaded out way through the club and I kept my eyes open for potential bottoms to fuck and fist later. Adrian and I walked down a corridor where each of the playrooms opened up on either side until we reached our destination.

The two of us entered the third room on the right; we were faced with a powerfully muscled male kneeling on the floor. He was naked save for locked bands around his wrists and ankles and a locked collar around his throat. The young man was wearing a pair of thick rubber kneepads as well.

I knew it was Adrian's slave because of the ink running across his back and the sweat glistening on his completely hairless body. He was being skullfucked by a thick-muscled black man who arched his back and bellowed as he unloaded a massive load of cum down the slave's throat. There was a line behind him of blacks and latinos waiting to be serviced as well.

"Joao! Getz yo' ass ovva here!"

The slave licked some cum from the side of his mouth and hastened to comply. Part of me was shocked to see it was Brian Hogan - the guy I had abducted and raped. I couldn't believe how far and how fast he had degenerated from a well-off college student to Adrian's soon-to-be-castrated property. But a much larger and dominant part of me was glad that after my lessons, the whiteboy had found his true calling.

Brian (or "Joao" as he was calling himself now) was shocked as well when he saw me. I gave him a twisted grin, "Hey Brian, glad tah seez you found yo' place - on yo' kneez in front ov muscle-bruthas! Ah tol' you you wouldn't be able tah keepz away!"

Adrian gave me a quizzical look. "Brian?"

"Yeah. He used tah be nam'd Brian. Dat wuz befo' Ah shaved 'im an' gave 'im hiz firs' horsefuck an' fistin'." It was good that he had changed his name. 'Joao' was fitting for the slave before me. All he needed now was some piercings...

"Well, Ray-Ray, Ah gotz you tah thank fo' makin' me dis fine slab ov meat!" He turned to Joao. "Suck yo' Maker off! NOW!" There were a few grumbles from the men waiting on line, but Adrian glared at them. "Hey!! He be mah fuckin' prop'ety an' Ah tellz 'im wat tool tah swallow an' when!"

I unsnapped the pouch of my codstrap and my steel-clad horsecock sprung out. The tableau had gotten me rock-hard and the discovery of the slave's identity had only served to redline my need for release. I grabbed his head and shoved my thick, brown cock down his now-willing throat.

* * *


I fisted about six whiteboyz (two past the elbow) and punishment-fucked about seven others before the loudspeakers blared to life.

"ATTENTION! PLEASE DIRECT YOUR ATTENTION TO THE TV SCREENS! TONIGHT'S SPECIAL EVENT IS ABOUT TO BEGIN!"

I had received a special pass from Adrian, so I moved towards the playroom where the "nutting"  would take place; I would get to see Joao's castration up close and personal. My dick was already hard and leaking at the thought.

* * *

When I arrived, there was about ten other leathermen present. A rubberman was fiddling with a professional video camera with a bunch of leads snaking off into sockets embedded in the wall and after quietly conversing over a PTT phone, he gave the thumbs-up to Adrian and a heavily inked young leatherman that was standing with him. Adrian's partner in crime had a triangular mohawk and a slightly wild, but well-trimmed beard. Intense, dark eyes complemented the sinister planes of his face. A large plasma TV on the wall showed the video feed that was also being broadcast to every screen in the club.

A few moments later, Joao was brought in. His cuffs, collar and kneepads had been removed, but his wrists were in heavy steel shackles behind his back. He was brought to Adrian and the restraints removed. He knelt and his head hung down in submission.

"Look at me, whiteboy..." Joao raised his head.

"You ready tah be mah slave fo' life? Be mah property? Be fucked, beaten, o' wat'evva Ah feelz like doin' tah you whenevva Ah feelz like doin' it?"

He swallowed hard. "Yes, Sir."

"Why?"

" 'cause white boys like me need to serve black men, Sir. That's all we're good for." He paused. "They've got to be ready to take a black man's cock up their ass or down their throat any time and any place and swallow a black man's fist whenever their Master wants, Sir."

"You knowz wat's gonna happen tah you to'nite?"

Another hard swallow. "Yes, Sir."

 "Wat?" He grabbed the slave's jaw and glared into his frightened eyes. 

"You're gonna nut me, Sir. You're gonna cut off my balls."

"And why am Ah cuttin' off yo' balls, whiteboy?"

" 'cause a slave doesn't need to breed, Sir. A slave only needs to be fucked."

A thin smile crossed the black man's face. "Good boy. Ah'm reel proud ov you. Now - getz up on dat platform."

Joao stepped onto the near-vertical table. At that. the inked leatherman standing with Adrian strapped wrists and ankles of the willing young man firmly down to the surface, immobilizing him. The black slave owner handed the other man a small key and he removed the CB6000 from the captive's package.

* * *

As the young slave lay strapped on the table, several things were happening at once. Joao felt his restrained legs being spread apart, and he felt the temperature of the room starting to get a lot warmer.  All the while, the pulse of his heart was counted out by the bobbing of his hard cock for all to see. He breathed deeply. This was the culmination of his transformation into a black man's slave. This was what he had been born for.

Adrian left the dais of the operating area and stood next to Ray-Ray. The two spoke quietly together.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHGGGG.” The shock of the cold against Joao's nipples was sudden and took him completely by surprise. The shock quickly turned to a dull ache as the cold conspired to numb the area quickly.

“Hey Jack? You got all yo' tools tonight?”

“Yeah Adrian, how you want this one done?” The tattoo artist's face turned to the slave's owner.

“Nips an' PA. Nice heavy gauge tah start wiff. No sense in goin' troo all dat steppin' up in sizes fo'evva. Knowz wat Ah mean?”

“Gotcha.”

For Joao, the world had closed down to just the sensation of the freezing of his nips. There was a steady burning ache now, and he wondered to himself if he would be able to take much more. A rubber gag of some kind had been shoved into his mouth and then somehow strapped around his smooth head.

The ice was removed from the captive’s nipples whereupon the leatherman tested them by pulling and pinching them. When there was little obvious objection from the subject, he judged them to be sufficiently numbed to begin.

Taking a large 8ga needle, Jack worked it quickly through the left nipple. The boy didn’t squirm, so he proceeded quickly. There was a little blood, but overall, not much. The long fingers backed the needle with the 6ga ring that the boy would wear. There would be a little more tearing that way, but he hadn’t brought a larger gauge needle. The ring went in with a little difficulty; more blood began to run from the new piercing, but it would soon stop.

Taking the ends of the flexible ring together, he ignited the small torch with which he would weld them into a flawless whole. When this was accomplished, he went to work on the right nipple. Duplicating the process over, the ring went in quickly, with little recognition from the young man that anything had happened.

The next piercing would be a little different, as there was a higher potential for bleeding from the slave's penis. Jack carefully swabbed the area under the boy’s glans with Betadine followed by swabbing the inside of the boy’s urethra with lidocaine. Allowing about a minute for the drug to deaden the nerves in the area, the tattoo artist took out the hooked 6ga needle which he would use to pierce the captive’s cock.

Jack had to stifle a laugh as the slave’s cock kept bobbing up and down with every beat of the his heart. Oh well, no time like the present, he thought, and worked the needle into the urethra. When it was about 3/8ths of an inch in, he forced the needle through the boy’s cock. The gauge of the needle caused some significant tissue damage, and there was a copious amount of scarlet running down the shaft.. Taking the 6ga PA ring Jack quickly fished the open end of the jewelry through the new hole in the still-rigid cock. The ring slid through without much difficulty, and again, Jack used the same technique to weld the ring, permanently closing it.

The bleeding in the young man's nipples had already stopped, and the bleeding in the his penis would stop momentarily. The leatherman stepped back to admire his handiwork. This one was going to be something special. He could wait for a final check until after the Vet got done with him.

During the piercing process, Joao was only aware of some tugging on his nipples, and when his cock was pierced, his only feeling was of a feeling of a little pressure on the inside of it.

“Nice job, Jack.”

“Thanks Adrian. You want anything else done while I’ve got my tools out? Septum? Nose bridge?  Ear tunnels?”

“Nah, dat'll do fo' now. Mebbe inna few months, we’ll getz summ mo' done. You nevva knowz.”

“Where da fuck iz da Vet?” yelled the black man at the rubber-clad technician.

“He’s on the way. You want to get the last load out of your boy before he gets down here?”

A bright grin split Weaver's face. “Oh, HELL yeah! You gotz da machine reddy?” 

From above the table where Joao was strapped, a hose was pulled down with a long stainless cylinder attached to it. His cock was already hard, so all that Jack had to do was lube it up a little and slide the cylinder over it. The rubber grommet at the base of the milker would create the suction necessary with the lubricant.

A well-inked hand stroked Joao's forehead and the slightly cruel face smiled down at him.

"Enjoy this, kid. This is the last time you’re ever going to cum."

With that, a switch was flipped, and a very, very pleasurable sensation flooded the young slave’s body. The milker started its subtle vibrating and the interior sleeve of the cylinder began its methodical pulsating up and down the captive's cock.

The force of the milker was having its effect on Joao and he could feel a powerful orgasm working its way up his body. It was an incredible feeling after being locked in chastity for so long. The slave’s mind tried to prevent this from happening too quickly, but was unable to stop it. For the first time in many days, cum erupted from his cock.

There was a cheer from the assembled men in the playroom as the slave’s body bowed from the first of many orgasms to come. 

There was a particularly satisfied grin on Ray-Ray's face. He turned to Adrian.  "Dis whiteboy's gotz da right attitude... mos' guyz in dis situ-ay-shun cood nevva getz hard. Ah knowz Ah'd be shitless knowin' mah balls wuz gettin' cut off."

Joao’s body rocked from the orgasm. It had been extremely intense, and his cock was particularly sensitive after ejaculation because of the piercing, but the milker didn’t care. It just continued its inexorable mechanical function.

Adrian inspected the collection receptacle and was pleased to see a thick white ejaculate. That fluid was going to sell for $2700 an ounce to a number of fertility clinics. His muscle-boy was already paying off handsomely even before his cutting.

Within two minutes, the signs of another impending orgasm were written all over the slave. His toes were curling up again, and the second orgasm was completed. The machine efficiently deposited the boy’s cum in the collection receptacle with his previous load. Weaver was pleased to note that the consistency of this load was almost identical to the first one. This slave had a lot of semen to deposit tonight. Already, within the crowd, there were several bets going as to how many times the boy was going to be able to cum before he started shooting blanks. The “good” money was being bet on five times. The black owner grinned to himself. His whiteboy was a cummer, and seven or eight times was not out of the question.

Joao was floating on the high of his sexual releases. Not even missing a beat, the milker continued to provide him with a kind of pleasure he had never experienced before.

His owner chuckled as Jack fitted the electrically charged anal plug into his slave and the boy’s hole greedily swallowed the substantial probe. Dat iz really gonna getz hiz cock goin', thought Weaver. After embedding the plug in the boy’s ass, the inked leatherman took the lead wires and attached them to the modulation board. He started with a slow and steady stream of pulses. Jack was pleased to see the obvious pleasure on the captive’s face as this new device made its presence known.

For the young slave, the rest of that part of the night was a complete blur. His very being was contained in the sensations resident in his ass and cock now.  He came again with a shudder.

Adrian noted that this time, the ejaculate wasn’t as thick as the previous loads in the evening.

Ultimately, though, his boy came a total of seven times before the machine only extracted air from his  nuts. He looked over to Ray who had also been monitoring the boy’s progress and rubbing his cock and then to the Vet, who had just arrived. It was time.

The milker was disconnected from the boy. The inked leatherman was careful to seal up the boy’s cum receptacle for Weaver. He was very pleased with the production.

The Vet walked over to Adrian. “Do you want him awake for this part?” The Vet was an slightly older man dressed in tight leather pants and a sleeveless leather shirt half unzipped to show off a slabbed and defined chest. He wore an arrowhead on a leather thong around his neck and leather gauntlets around his wrists.

“Yeah. You ready, Doc?”

“Just take me a minute to get him set. You want a complete reduction done as well?”

Weaver gave a malicious smile.“Yeah. Ah wantz it tah look like d'ere wuz nevva a sac d'ere at all, Doc. Do a good job. Ah'll makez it reel worff yo' while.”

With that, the Vet set about prepping Joao for the procedure of removing his nuts and sac. After several injections into his scrotum, penis, and surrounding groin area, the Vet waited a couple minutes for the drugs to take affect.

“Lower the table, and raise his head.” ordered the Vet.

The table was rotated to its horizontal position, and the slave felt something being placed under his cranium. Though he was aware of what would be going on, the drugs the Vet had injected into him were having their effect; it was like he was somehow detached from the actual process itself.

Joao looked down at himself, and smiled to see the shiny steel rings in both of his nipples. When his eyes looked down to his cock, he saw the huge ring that was now permanently a part of him. His dick was semi-flaccid now, but the big ring pulled on the head of his penis creating a tension there that he had never felt before. An older man in leathers with surgical gloves came into view. Beside him was his owner.

“OK whiteboy, dis iz wat’s gonna happen.Yo' nuts gonna be r'moved now by da Vet. He gonna make sure you ain't in no pain while da procedure iz takin' place. You reddy?"

Joao nodded. He was terrified and ecstatic at the same time.

A somewhat evil grin crossed Adrian's face. "Go fo' it, Doc...”

Conversation in the room stopped. The only sound was that of the music which had been turned down so the Vet could concentrate on his work. The room temperature had been raised to almost 90 degrees, so the slave's nuts were well relaxed, and easy to get at. The change in climate also had an effect on the leathermen present. There was a growing aroma of musk, sweat and cum as the observers grew more aroused at the tableau unfolding before them. The Vet took a #2 scalpel and made an incision down the centerline of the front of the boy’s scrotum.

There was little bleeding, thanks to the drugs which restricted the flow of blood in the immediate area. The boy’s sac opened, revealing his testes. The Vet took the left one and rolled it out with his hand until it popped out of the incision. It was a smooth beige color, glistening in the bright overhead lights.

The cord holding the organ was quickly tied off robbing it of its life. A quick flick of his scalpel and it came away clean in his hand. He placed the severed organ into the waiting tray and quickly got back to work rolling the boy's right testicle out of the incision.

The process was repeated and the slave was now a eunuch.  

"You're gonna need to rub some Andro-gel on him once a week to keep his muscle tone..." the Vet said matter-of-factly to Weaver as he continued the operation.

"Way aheadz o' you, Doc... T'anks fo' da heads-up, tho."

The tricky part of the procedure was to take the now-unused skin of the sac and make it seamless and smooth. The Vet carefully trimmed the excess skin and got out his suture kit. Fifteen stitches later, and the tight incision became nearly invisible. There was just a little blood seeping from the wound, but he cleaned it off gently with peroxide; it would soon stop anyway.

Jack undid the straps and released the now-neutered slave from the table. The assembled crowd of leathermen heard the distant roar of approval from the rest of the club and filed by to see the Vet’s handiwork. All of them agreed that it was very difficult to tell that the slave had ever had a set of balls under his cock. In a few weeks it would be impossible. Both the tattoo artist and the doctor helped their charge sit up on the table. Adrian strode up on the dais; he held the smooth face in his large black hands and gave him a surprisingly gentle kiss.

The slave owner fondled the pierced cock of his property. "You lookz jus' da way you shood now... ringz in yo' nips an' cock... no hair an' no ballz. How duz it feelz now tah be a reel slave? Ev'rythin' you wanted?"

Blue-green eyes looked back at him. "Yes, Sir... thank you Sir. You've made me the happiest guy in the world..."

Adrian laughed and stroked the muscular shoulders. "Well, you ain't a GUY no mo', you ain't got da equipment... you an IT... but d'ere's jus' one more thing we gotz  t'do, an' den Ah'm gonna let you rest up... put yo' armz 'round mah neck, now..."

Joao complied and rested his head on the muscular black shoulder as well, breathing deeply in contentment. Weaver stroked the smooth scalp as Jack's tattoo needle buzzed away and completed the inking across his shoulders. The gathered leathermen grinned in satisfaction and clapped as the tattoo now read, PROPERTY OF ADRIAN WEAVER - proclaming the neutered slave's status to the world.

* * *
The final step was encasing Joao into rubber. Jack and Adrian helped guide a heavily-lubed 0.3mm neck entry suit onto the newly emasculated slave. Toe socks were fitted onto his feet and the slick black material was pulled up over his legs. His ringed cock was pulled through a hole in front and a pouch was snapped in place. The two helped him stand and the inky darkness continued to rise higher and higher. The attached gloves were so snug that the impressions of his fingernails were present through the elastic material. Finally, the only flesh visible was Joao's shiny head above the two-inch collar.

The Vet produced a pair of black scleral contacts and inserted them into his eyes. Joao blinked. In place of his ocean-blue pupils, the lenses produced a sightless black nothingness to the assembled crowd. A stiff rubber grommet was placed into his mouth; it held it open in the shape of a surprised "O" and the rim was glued in place over his own lips. A thick black cock-shaped plug was then inserted into the waiting cavity and an eyeless latex hood was pulled over the slave's head and tucked into the suit. Finally, a heavy collar was locked in place around his neck, sealing him into his second skin.

Adrian gathered his rubber-clad slave into his arms and carried him into the adjoining room. He was placed into a steel and leather-padded framework and immobilized with gleaming restraints around neck, wrists and ankles. His owner undid the zipper covering his ass and rubbed a generous amount of lube onto the gleaming pink pucker. A fuck-machine was then bolted onto the framework and a large black dildo began its slow and deep thrusting in and out of the waiting hole.

Ray-Ray shook his head in wonderment. This was the most fucking incredible night of my life...

"You enjoy da perfo'mance, bruh?" Adrian pulled the other black leatherman into his arms.

"You blew mah fuckin' mind, Adrian! Dat wuz amazin'! Whatta goddamned turnon!" 

Watching the interplay between Weaver and Joao and seeing the operation first-hand, it occurred to Ray that it wasn't enough to merely have whiteboys serving black men. They absolutely needed to be castrated as well.  His horsecock was leaking like a faucet as he imagined "breaking in" whiteboys for their ultimate conversion to their life as slaves. Greasing up their ass - and seeing no nutsac - then fisting them to the shoulder.

"Wonder if Ah cood nut da nex' one..." he said aloud without thinking and appeared shocked that those deepest desires had escaped his lips.

"You is one EVIL muthafucka, Ray-Ray... dat's why Ah want 'chu so bad..." The slave owner gave Johnson a speculative look and a malicious smile.  

"Lemme talkz tah Arkadiy... dat boy's spunk iz gonna bring in a lotta money. You shood getz a cut. You gotz a good eye fo' slave-meat an' you knowz how tah getz 'em inta da right headspace... mebbe you wanna b'cumm a talent scout fo' da bizness? An' getz summ lessons frum da Vet?" Weaver chuckled as he massaged Ray-Ray's aching and swollen package through the leather pouch.

Ray couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Kidnappin' an' rapin' whiteboyz? Shavin' 'em down? Den castratin' 'em? Shitchyeah!!! 'Course Ah would!"

He nearly came in his pouch. Zack has gotta make my Transformation permanent...there's no way I can go back to being just a white man now. Not after tonight.

Adrian gave his companion a rough kiss. "Ah'm so damn horny... Ah cain't wait tah bang dat boy now he ain't got no balls..." Weaver gave Johnson's crotch another hard squeeze. "...if Ah letz you fuck an' fist me tonite, Mr. Johnson, kin Ah pullz dat plug outta yo' ass an' drill yo' brains out aftawards?"

A wicked grin split Ray-Ray's face. "Deal! Now we gotz t'get you inna sling befo' you change yo' mind... lemme see if you kin takez me up tah mah shoulder!"

* * *

A picture is worth a thousand words ... and this is the picture that started this story:

The thought of full rubber encapsulation, blackout lenses, mouth grommets, penis gags and closed hoods really got me hard and leaking. I'm still in my "Breeding" state of mind, so I decided this would be another story detailing Charlie Hawke's further moral descent during the period of his existence as a black felon and street punk.

Ray-Ray's decision to abduct and rape someone has serious consequences both for him and the victim Brian Hogan. For the college student, his life had been shattered to the extent that he became a male whore and a neutered slave to a brutal and sadistic black man. For Ray, the fact that he does nothing to save the young man and in fact, revels in his destruction is indicative that his alter-ego is fully in control and consuming his former self more and more.The entire concept of being involved in human trafficking is immensely arousing to the African thug; this was definitely something that the blue-eyed police officer would have never countenanced.

Surprisingly, one of the hardest parts I found in writing this story was creating and maintaining a language level. Do I "allow" Ray and Adrian to slip into a more urban patois? And once that decision had been made, making sure that I maintained the consistency of it.

I have one more story planned in this arc, but it takes place further in time and under some slightly different circumstances. I've found with this particular arc that I have focused more on the sexual acts versus the underlying story, and I am working toward reversing that trend with the final installment. It's not coming any time soon - the outline is about 75% complete, but I want to clear my head and do some other types of stories before I return to this part of my secondary world.

Thug Tales: Alley Abduction

I'd been eyeing this muscle puppy for a few weeks now. He always came into the little grocery store near my apartment same time every Tuesday. He was well-built, with a bit of trimmed scruff on his face and gold-brown hair cut in a designer fade. You could tell he spent quality time at the gym, making sure everything was ripped, shredded and perfectly symmetrical. Tonight, he was wearing a snug pair of A&F jeans that accentuated his tight ass and well-built thighs and a muscle-cut henley that showed off his smooth, powerful arms and chest.

And tonight, he was going to become the property of Ray-Ray Johnson.

I bought a package of gum and left the store while he was still on the checkout line, and ducked around the corner into a side alley. In my pocket I had the bottle of ethylene and a rag. My plan was to attack him as he passed, knock him out and drag him through the service alley and up to my place to fuck and fist his ass.

In a few moments, I saw the striped shirt pass and rushed out with the chemical-soaked rag. I clamped it onto his face and dragged him back out of sight. The bag of groceries he carried dropped to the concrete as he struggled against me. In a few moments, his resistance faltered until he finally went limp in my arms.

* * *

I brought him up via the service elevator to my apartment. First thing I did was dampen two cotton balls with some of the ethylene and tucked them lightly into his nostrils. I use the stuff because it's pretty weak and doesn't have any side effects. I wanted him to stay unconscious until I was finished getting him prepped.

I unlaced and removed his Nikes. Then I undid his belt and pulled off the jeans. I grinned to myself as I stroked the long, hairless, muscular legs. Socks and briefs were next. I fished his wallet out of the back pocket and put it on the table. Gotta check that out. He had a nice thick cock - about 5" soft - and I chuckled as I ran a dark hand over the trimmed hair at his crotch - good to see he was a firm believer in manscaping. I was just going to take it to the next level.

I propped him against the wall and pulled off his shirt. Niiice.  He was completely smooth - even his pits - and he had a black tribal swirl covering a powerful deltoid and extending up his trap and down onto a slabbed pectoral. The muscle-puppy had a tightly etched set of six-pack abs and highly defined obliques as well.

"Mmmm,mmmm,mmmm... Ah iz gonna enjoy fuckin' an' fistin' yo' ass, whiteboy... okay, up we go...." I lifted him into a chair and fastened two thick leather belts around his chest to keep him upright. His head lolled forward. Then I turned on the clippers and proceeded to shave his head and face. With the pile of hair on the floor and no longer on him, I admired my work and grinned. Much better already.

* * *

Next step was the shaving cream. I washed his head, face and crotch with very warm water and soap and then proceeded to shave the stubble off. Seeing him naked already had my black horsecock snaking down my shorts; then I decided to go all the way and shave his eyebrows off as well. Seeing him completely hairless got me absolutely rigid and dripping with lust.

"Awright, muscle-puppy... now we needz tah getz you reddy fo' Breedin'..." I put a pillow on top of the table and laid him stretched across it with his ass sticking out over the edge. I used zip ties and then duct tape to fasten his wrists and ankles to the legs. One important fact I learned from Jamie - his feet were off the floor to prevent any traction. And to create a complete feeling of helplessness. Then I wrapped a length of the tape over his mouth, around his newly shorn head and removed the cotton balls from his nose.

I checked his pucker and shaved off what little hair was there as well. I rubbed his little pink rosebud. That ass is gonna be all mine, soon.

I stripped naked and admired myself in the mirror - God, I loved being a brutha. And a felon. My nearly black eyes admired every inch of the muscular African thug that grinned back at me. My own bald head glistened in the lights and a fine sheen of sweat covered my powerful body. Combined with the gleaming c-ring encircling my heavy horsedick and sac, my CZ studs twinkled and the steel rings on my fingers and thumbs gave me a dangerous and predatory look.

I opened the puppy's wallet and thumbed through its contents as I waited for him to wake up.

* * * 

About ten minutes later, I saw the captive twitch out of the corner of my eye. I squatted down in front of him so I would be the first thing he saw when he woke up.

In a few moments later, his blue-green eyes fluttered open and were filled with panic as he found a naked black man leering at him and his body immobilized.

"Ah been keepin' an eye on you fo' a while now, whiteboy ... an' Ah knew it wuz time you an' me gotz tah know each otha in da biblical sense."

He thrashed about and tried to get loose from the restraints but soon stopped as he panted heavily out of his nose.

"You ain't gettin' loose till Ah letz you go, Brian ... 'sides, dat'll give you time tah think up an 'xcuse explainin' how you lookz." I took a barber's mirror from behind my back and showed him his newly hairless self. His eyes widened in shock and fear.

"Yeahhh ... you lookz much better wiff no hair. Ah wuz gonna leave yo' eyebrowz, but den SLAVEZ don' need hair. Ain't necessary. Like clothez. All you needz now iz a collar tah show you iz a black man's prope'ty. Ah'm gonna fuck yo' ass so hard, you gonna be walkin' bowlegged fo' a month."

He made muffled shouting noises and violently shook his head. "Ain't gonna do you no good, whiteboy. Noboddy cain hear you. Dat's wat Ah luvz 'bout duct tape ... turnz 'No! No! No!' inta 'Mmm-mmm-mmm...'. An' afta Ah getz done wiff you, you iz gonna be beggin' a black man tah fill yo' ass up wiff hiz cock 'least once a day."

I stood up and walked around him. I stroked his flanks and then gave his ass a hard slap. Then I filled the butt injector with lube and shoved it into his hole. I pushed down the plunger and Brian squirmed as the viscous fluid filled his guts and dribbled onto the floor.

"Oh yeah ... dat muscle-boy ass ov yo's lookz reddy fo' summ serious stretchin' ..." I rubbed a generous amount onto my own aching black rod and gripped his tight waist with two dark hands. In a single brutal thrust,  my thick ebon shaft rammed into his ass

The puppy screamed into his gag as I breached him and I soon set up a punishing rhythm as I drove in and out of his chute. It felt good fucking his ass - he was so tight, but my heavy-duty activity was loosening him up rapidly.

"You likez gettin' fucked up da ass, don' you Brian?" He made moaning noises. "'Course you do... all whiteboyz like gettin' fucked by big black men, don' d'ey? D'ey needz it like sunshine an' fresh air." I reached down and pinched his nose shut. He went wild as his air was cut off as I continued to fuck him hard. I let go and watched his torso heave as he sucked air back into his tortured lungs.

"Don' d'ey, whiteboy?? O' duz Ah gotta keepz smotherin' you 'till you answer me co-rectly?"

"Mmm-hmmm" I patted his ass. "Good boy." Then I started fucking him again.

* * *

I must have exploded three or four times inside of the puppy and emptied a few quarts of spunk into his intestines. I finally pulled out and smiled to see his now-gaping pucker dribbling a combination of lube, blood and cum onto the linoleum floor. He had stopped crying after the first time I unloaded in him and now seemed to grunting in pleasure as his ass was stuffed by my black man-meat.

"Ah ain't dunn wiff you yet, muscle-puppy. Not by a long shot." Brian was now slumped exhausted on the table and barely responded as I rubbed his asshole with a rough thumb.

I took the rings off my right hand and covered it in a thick syrupy glove of J-Lube. I poked one finger, then two, into the ass of the prone puppy before me. He groaned and shifted a bit as I pulled out and put three fingers into his ass.

"Uh-huh. All whiteboyz gotz t'be able tah take black cock an' black fist any time, any place... we gotz t'make sure you iz pree-pared, don' we? Seemz dem lessonz been missin' frum yo' fancy edumacayshun." I had found a Columbia University student ID card in his wallet.

Four fingers in. Brian was more alert now and was starting to buck against the invading digits. At this point I wasn't sure if he was trying to get more of my fingers in his ass, or trying to avoid them - but it really didn't matter to me. My captive continued to moan as I pulled out completely, leaving a gaping, greased-up hole that was begging to be filled.

I tucked my thumb beneath my fingers and then pushed my fist into his ass. The puppy sobbed as he was invaded by my hand. "Mmmm..."  I felt a tremendous sense of satisfaction as I saw my extended hand vanish up his hole and my wrist being gripped by his much-loosened pink muscle-ring. God, this feels so right. This had to be the way Uncle Danny felt when he 'broke in' new baby cops at the precinct.

I rotated my hand inside his velvety darkness. "You likez handball, don'chu whiteboy?" I chuckled. "Damn fool question... Wat whiteboy don' ?" He continued to moan and I could now tell by the altered pitch that he was indeed enjoying our intimate connection. And he was definitely pushing back onto my fist to  deepen the invasion. I was happy to oblige as I clawed deeper into his guts and watched as more of my arm vanished into his body.

I fisted him for about an hour and a half and got past the elbow. I looked at the clock on the wall - it was getting near nine o'clock and it was time to let the puppy go. Any later and there may be someone who was concerned about his whereabouts and began to ask questions.

I pulled out and rubbed the lube and cum off of my arm then soaked the rag in ethylene again. "Time fo' 'nother nap, Brian..." as I pushed it against his nose. He struggled weakly as the chemical knocked him unconscious once more, and when he was out cold, I stuffed his nose again so I could untie him and get him back outside without interruption.

* * *

Brian Hogan woke to find himself naked in a service alley behind a large apartment building. Despite the heat of the night, he shivered.  Concrete walls rose up and all sides and lights from nearby windows served to faintly illuminate the dumpsters and various other refuse around him. The far end of the alley opened onto the street, and he could see some light activity and traffic going on before him. He was leaning against a brick wall with a plastic grocery bag in his lap.

He opened the bag to find his clothes, wallet, watch and phone. He stood up and began to quickly dress. His hands felt his shorn crotch and then traveled up to his face to find all his hair missing as well. His fingers then found a leather collar fastened around his neck and locked in place. Tears overfilled his eyes and ran down his cheeks. Oh dear God, it wasn't a nightmare. I was raped by a black guy... and I loved every minute of it.

On top of the dumpster was his bag of groceries as well. He crept out of the alley and stayed to the shadows as he made his way home.


* * * 

I made a brief mention of this event in my last "Thug Tales" entry, so I figured it was time to expand upon that statement and give the readers a view into the actual occurrence.

Firmly settled into his thug persona, Charlie (as Ray-Ray) has indeed lost any inhibitions he previously had - both regarding sex and the willingness of the partner involved. As opposed to just acting out tableaus with like-minded patrolmen at the 41st Precinct, this is the first time the Transformed black man has actually committed a crime of assault and rape. And had no compunction about it.

Who knows what else will happen before he comes to his senses? Only time will tell...

Happy Valentines Day!

Thug Tales: Tony

(For the Blogger censors ... this a work of FICTION - any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. Language, situations and behaviors are only utilized within the confines of the post to enhance the story itself and do not represent any real-life circumstances in any way.)

“Ray, can I, ummm, come by tomorrow afternoon?”

Tony McLaren and I were still on our beat and a knowing grin split my dark face. “Shure… an' bringz yo' leatherz, bruh - harness, strapz, chapz an' bootz.”

* * *

After Zack’s touchup and the added tats on my arms and torso, my headspace shifted again. I can’t quite explain it, but I felt blacker than before and even less like the white man I used to be.

I went out and got myself some steel bracelets and rings. I wore them on almost all of my fingers - including thumbs - whenever I wasn’t on duty, and one or two on each hand when I was.

The jewelry was a visible complement to the items beneath my clothes – the cock ring, the ass-sphere and the penis plug – and made me feel more sexually demanding and dominant as well. More in tune with the low-life ghetto rat I had been turned into and more in tune with the black felon I had truly become.

I was half-naked – deliberately so - when Tony arrived at the apartment.  I had on a shiny black doo-rag, some cutoff fleece shorts and a pair of worn Timberlands. The steel on my fingers and wrists glittered in the light from the windows and my exposed skin gleamed with a fine sheen of sweat. I had deliberately turned off the AC to heat up the room and make my skin gleam.

“Wow…” My partner was literally drooling as he looked at the oversexed black street hustler in front of him. He wasn’t anything to sneeze at either – he was wearing fleece cutoffs as well that wrapped snugly around his muscular thighs, a pair of soccer shoes and a black tank that framed his powerful torso and set off the elaborate inking on both well-developed arms. I could see the bulge of his package thickening the center of his shorts as I gave him a wicked white smile. Tony put down the gym bag containing his leathers for our further adventures later tonight; he was already slick with perspiration from the trip over to my place.

I pulled him close so our crotches ground together and grabbed his ass through the soft material. “You be lookin' dayumn fine yo'self, whiteboy…” I gave him a deep, hard kiss which he returned it with equal ardor.

When we broke apart, he gave me an appraising look. “You know, Ray -  this is the first time I’m really seeing you as a genuine black thug– and not just as ‘Charlie’ disguised as one any more. I can't believe how completely you've changed... but I think the tats finally did it. I love 'em. Those steel rings and bracelets are such a fucking turnon, too. You're a totally different person now.” He couldn't stop stroking my torso ... and I didn't feel like stopping him.

My thumbs massaged his hard obliques. “Ah ain't thought o' mahself az 'Charlie Hawke' – o' a whiteboy o' even a reel cop – fo' weekz now, bruh. Ah lookz in da mirror an' Ah seez da crim'nal Sarge an' Zack cree-ated – 'Rayshawn Johnson'.  Ah luvz bein' a hulkin' black gang-banger. Ah knowz dat dis iz wat Ah SHOOD be..." I paused. "Tony, Ah thinkz... Ah thinkz Ah gotta stayz dis way fo' good... Ah nevva 'magin'd sumpthin' like dis cood evva happen t'me ... an' bein' like dis iz jus' too fuckin' RIGHT tah evva givez up... Ah cain't do it... Ah NEEDZ t'be a muscle-brutha and a fuckin' FELON 'cause datz who Ah reely IZ now....”

A strange look crossed his face as I made that admission to my partner. My dark eyes widened in amazement as I realized what that look meant. "You wantz it too, don'chu?" I stroked his face and gave him another deep kiss. "You wantz tah b'cumm a brutha too, don'chu, Tony? A black ghetto muthafucka like me fo' reel an' fo'evva? "

He swallowed hard. Nodded. "Yeah. I want ... I need to be a cocky, black lowlife like you, Ray. I haven't been able to stop thinking about getting Transformed too since I found out it was you in the locker room. Seeing what you've become, being just a white cop isn't enough for me any more, either..."

It felt good to finally voice that thought out loud. I had been struggling with reconciling my old life with my new one, but not any longer. I now thought of ‘Charlie Hawke’ as a completely separate person from myself. I was living in his apartment and (sometimes) wearing his clothes, but I wasn’t HIM. Not any more. My attitude and behavior was completely separate from the white man I had been (and now no longer wanted to be) ... I know he would have never dreamed of - let alone condoned - punch-fucking Jamie Reardon (and enjoying every minute of it) or stalking some random muscle-puppy on the street to drag into an alley to assault and rape every chance he got. The next time I visited Zack, I was going to ask him what we needed to do to make my Transformation permanent.

Which brought me back to Tony. “Ah figger'd afta we fuck'd each otha, we cood go out tah da Greasetank t'night an' breed us summ whiteboyz. Raw. Soundz good?”

He grinned. “Sounds great! Sarge always said I should follow your lead.”

I stoked his slabbed pecs and ran a dark finger down the canyon between them. "Yeah .. you iz gonna be mah stable stud. You getz all mah whiteboyz nice an' trained proper-like so dey knowz how tah service a brutha... 'Course Ah gotz t'hood you an' lock it in place. Dmitry an' Arkadiy videotapez ev'ryone an' ev'rythin' at da club an' ain't abuvv usin' blackmail on da clientele."

I had removed the steel sphere from my butt and didn’t like the feeling of being empty. I grabbed a prepared backpack that was sitting on the table. “C’mon. We gotz summ hardcore ass-play on da menu.” I motioned for my partner to follow me out the door.

* * *

We entered the elevator and I pushed the “B” button.

“Where are we going?” I didn’t answer him.

In a moment, the doors opened and we threaded our way through the dusty basement and up a short flight of stairs. I pushed open a heavy metal door and Tony looked around to find ourselves in the service alley running behind the building. We could hear the muted noise of the city from the end of the passage and there was the flinty tang of heated cement and sour metal in the air. We were alone.

I put the backpack down and shucked off my shorts. Buck naked, I stretched myself over a large garbage container and my black pucker gave my partner an inviting wink.

I looked over my shoulder and chuckled at the shocked look on Tony's face. “D'ere’s plenty ov lube in da bag, Tony – c’mon … fuck me 'til Ah screamz.”

“HERE?”

“Nuthin' beatz ruff back-alley sex, whiteboy. Da chance ov gettin' caught jus' addz tah da rush. Strip off dem clothez an' shove dat steel-ringed horsecock ov yo's up mah black ass.” I had learned that with Jamie and Tommy when we left Zack's place after my Transformation.

“But… but… but what if someone sees us?”

“Who givez a shit? We’ll grab 'em an' fuck 'em too. Fillz up mah hole. NOW. Ah don’ like bein' empty.”

My partner pulled off his tank and pulled down his shorts. He stepped out of his jock and the sun gleamed on the steel that was locked around his cock and balls swollen with urgency.

Tony got into it soon enough. Once he was as naked as I was, he took out a bottle of Gun Oil and slathered it on his hard member so it glistened wetly in the afternoon light. He rubbed a generous amount of the lube into my hole as well and slowly pushed himself in.

“Ahhh….” After the butt-sphere, Tony’s rigid tool wasn’t a problem, but it felt so good to have some hot thick man-meat in my guts. He grabbed hold of my waist and started to pump.

I bellowed. “Harda, bruh! HARDA! Ah ain’t gonna hold back when Ah fuckz YO' ass! Ah needz it ruff an' Ah needz it deep an' hard! DO IT!” My voice echoed in the concrete canyon.

Tony quickened his pace as well as the intensity of this thrusts. I had to grip the edges of the container to stop my head from hitting the brick wall. He could be goddamned brutal when he put his mind to it. Just the way I wanted and had to be fucked. Every time he slammed into my butt I felt the hot steel of his massive triple cock ring against my cheeks and I howled every time he connected with my prostate. 

"SHITCHYEAH!! FUCK!!! Dat feelz so goddamned GOOD, whiteboy! Keepz on poundin' mah ass!" My partner threw back his head and screamed as I felt gallons of his seed scald my insides. He pulled out and leaned against the hot bricks, breathing heavily and gulping air to fill his lungs. His cock was still rock-hard and dripping a combination of lube and cum onto the concrete.

"Jeez, that was incredible..." He looked around, then grinned. Despite the noise we had been making, we were still alone. Tony followed my example and loped over to another container; my partner widened his stance to show off  his tight pucker and the muscular globes of his butt. "Go for it Ray - let me feel that big black cock of yours in my guts!"

"See, Ah tol' you alley-sex wuz da best..." I felt a bit of his jism dribble down my leg as I retrieved my ass-sphere from the bag and pushed it back into my chute.

I hissed as I removed the penis plug. I was going to give Tony the fucking of his life. Then I covered my aching black rod with a thick coating of lube and jammed it nuts-deep into my partner's waiting and eager hole.

* * *

Tony got more vocal and less inhibited the longer I raped him. I kept up a running conversation as I was pumping into him and he got into the back-and-forth with an eagerness that surprised me. I wondered... Would Jamie consider creating a second muscle-brutha at the precinct? "Yeahhh... whiteboyz like you needz lotz ov deep-dickin' alla time t'keep you r'spectfull..."

I felt my nuts churn. "You ready fo' summ Nubian man-seed in dem crackass 'testines ov yo's?" My dark hands - adorned with the steel rings and bracelets - gripped his tight, muscled waist as my cock slammed into him again and again. "You reddy tah b'cumm a brutha's prop'ety?"

Tony was panting. "Yeah! YEAH! The only thing better than your black dick up my ass is getting my guts filled with your cum! FUCK YEAH! FUCK Ray! Fill me up! Fill me up, Sir! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!"

"You iz MINE whiteboy!" I screamed as I exploded inside him. My vision dimmed around the edges as I came multiple times inside my partner. Finally, I was milked dry and pulled out. My cock was still dripping as I gave Tony's ass a hard slap.

"Up on da dumpster, Tony... Ah ain't done wiff you... o' yo' ass... yet." I licked my lips as I watched him crawl on the top of the container; the combination of his powerful physique and sweaty inked skin was making me crazed with lust.

"On yo' back, whiteboy. Ah wanna watch yo' face az you getz fisted." My partner flipped over and grabbed the corners to brace himself. He lifted his muscular legs to expose his gaping pucker as a rivulet of cum leaked out of his ass. Perfect. Just the position "property" should assume with a black man.

I took the rings off my right hand and removed the container of J-Lube from the bag. In a moment, I was wearing a glistening glove and wasted no time in forcing it up his tortured ass.

"JESUS!" Tony howled as my fist forced past his sphincter and slid up his chute. I twisted my hand around his velvety smoothness and watched him writhe in ecstasy.

I pulled out and pushed back in, setting up a slow punch-fuck for the white stud grinning back at me.

"You like handball, don'chu, Tony?"

"Oh, fuck yeah...you're amazing, Ray. Absolutely amazing... Ahhhh.... oh, Mother of God...." My partner ground himself onto my fist as I opened my hand inside of him and stroked his guts. I know the feeling he was experiencing - I had the same reaction when Tommy Namisato gave me my first fisting in the sling.

"Ah'm goin' deepa, muscle-boy. Ah don' wanna hurtz you, so Ah'm gonna go slow. You tellz me when tah stop, 'kay? Ah ain't gonna damage Jamie's prop'ety."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." I gave his mushroom head a kiss. I liked the fact that he was calling me 'Sir', but at this point - for all intents and purposes - we both were Jamie Reardon's property. I pulled out and gave my hand and arm a new coat of lube. I tucked my thumb under my fingers and pushed through his sphincter once more and began my journey upwards.

* * *

The fisting was a quieter affair than our back-alley fuckfest. But far more intense. Our eyes locked as the connection between us was amplified by the slow progress of my arm into his body. Both our cocks were iron-hard and swollen with lust as more and more of my forearm disappeared up his ass.

My elbow had just entered him when a grimace of pain skirled across his face. I stopped my progress and pulled back a bit.

"You good?"

"I dunno. I think so. Just had a real bad cramp." He gave me a tired grin. "Keep fisting me, Ray. It's okay. I can take it."

Time to stop - we both were exhausted.  "Ah thinkz you had enuff fo' yo' firs' fistin' frum a black man. You dunn good. You dunn reel good." I pulled my arm out of his ass and his legs dropped off my shoulders and dangled in front of the container he was sprawled on. My partner tiredly pushed himself up onto his elbows.

"How far did you go?"

"Up past mah elbow."

"Wow..." He slid back prone on the top of the waste container. "That was the best fuck of my life."

I helped him down off the dumpster and we proceeded to clean the cum and lube off our sweating bodies. Rummaging in the bag, I pulled out a large metal butt plug. It was torpedo-shaped with heavy-duty rubber tubing connecting the plug to a thick circular metal base. I poured a heavy coat of J-Lube onto the thick metal monster.

"Bend ovva... You needz dis up yo' chute..." Tony grunted as I pushed the plug into his ass. It looked good seeing that steel base covering his hole. He'd definitely be another perfect muscle-brutha.  I pulled on my shorts and gathered the materiel back into the backpack. I gave his ass a playful slap.

"Getz dressed, bruh. Letz go back up to da 'partment, cleanz up an' do summ chillaxin'. We kin order in Chinese an' d'en getz reddy fo' tonightz breedin' frenzy at da Greasetank..."

* * * 

As promised, I said I would start to write some stories about Charlie's adventures with his fellow officers (and others) as the sexually demanding black stud Ray-Ray Johnson. I decided the first one should be with the person closest to him - his partner Tony McClaren. Tony is perhaps the only person that the rookie cop can confide in completely. The idea of remaining a black man is voiced to him before anyone else.

Tony himself is still in his Initiation phase - the triple-cock ring is still locked onto him, but Jamie Reardon has given him some "time off" with his partner to indulge in whatever sordid activities Ray-Ray sees fit. 

Carreau's influence is definitely afoot during this phase of Ray's existence - the black hustler admits to himself that his behavior is something that is Charlie would be appalled with. This interaction isn't quite fully developed in my mind yet, but I can imagine that the demon prince is tempering the young policeman's soul - after a period of being hammered and pounded by incredible forces, it will emerge stronger and purer than before.

I was going to continue the story and describe the activities within the club, but I think this is enough for now. THAT will be another story!