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 real 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.