(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.)
JAMIE
“Mmm-hmmm…” Namisato ground himself further onto Reardon’s prong and stroked his lover’s arms. “What’s up?”
“McLaren has been asking me to let Zack turn him into a black guy too.”
“Go for it. He deserves a little fun. He’s a good cop. Never asks for anything special. Never complains about anything, either. Even when we both fucked him so hard that he was limping for a week. And he sees how much Ray is enjoying it.”
“Yeah… but Ray has taken this street thug thing to a completely different level. I don't know about you, but I even have trouble thinking of him now as anything but a black ghetto rat. It's like 'Charlie Hawke' never existed. I’m not sure what’ll happen with McLaren…”
“Well, Tony is definitely not Ray. Johnson is an independent thinker. Which is great for a criminal... but not always for a cop. McLaren is solid. Dependable. And he follows orders. If you tell him, he can be a black guy for a month, at the end of thirty days, he’ll be back to himself and it’ll be over. Besides, he sees how you react to Ray – you’ve got a glans-penis override to the frontal lobes when it comes to punishment-fucking black men. He's probably also feeling a little neglected. I’m sure you were halfway hoping he’d ask you anyway, right?”
“You got a point there…”
“I know I do. Now go to sleep.”
* * *
RAY
The four of us – me, Jamie Reardon, Tommy Namisato and my partner Tony McLaren entered Zack Gauthier’s warehouse. Tony and I were grinning from ear to ear; but for some reason, Jamie was slightly on edge. Tony was wearing a loose t-shirt and a pair of cut-off sweats that had definitely seen better days and looked ready to fall off of his Promethean physique.
Zack gave the young white patrolman a studied once-over. His strong but gentle hands smoothed over McLaren’s eyebrows and stroked the other man’s features. “I think I’ll be done mid-afternoon, guys. By that time, you’ll have TWO oversexed and cocky African-American street thugs at the precinct.”
“Sounds good…” Reardon reached into his shirt and took out a key that had been hanging on a chain around his neck. He gave it to me and then slammed me hard against the wall. His powerful forearm pressed tightly against my windpipe.
“Tony’s C-ring comes off only long enough for Zack to complete the prep and finish the dye job. If that cockring isn’t locked on him by the time I get back here, I will break both your fucking arms…” His other hand grasped my crotch and squeezed. “DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND??”
“Yes, SUH.” I gasped.
“Good.” He released me and a wolfish smile split his face. “Sergeant Namisato and I will need to sample the new merchandise when we get back, so be prepared for some heavy-duty fucking and fisting. Both of you. C’mon Tommy, let’s go.” The two sergeants left.
I rubbed my neck and grinned. The other two saw my thick, erect horsecock clearly visible against the thin material of my onionskin nylon running pants. I massaged my package with relish.
“Mmm-mmm-mmm… threatz like dat getz me so fuckin' hard…”
Zack cleared his throat. Tony’s got at least fifteen pounds of muscle on Ray… he's going to be one scary black fucker - I'd just drop to my knees if I met him in dark alley and do whatever he said. “Okay Tony, let me tell you what we’re going to do here today. First thing is we’re going to shave you smooth and get you ready for a skin dye job. You can do anything you want physically - the stuff is solvent-based so you can’t sweat, scratch or wash it off. Then we’re going to widen your nose, thicken your lips and deepen your voice. Maybe add contact lenses. So far, so good?”
McLaren grinned. “Hell, yeah! I’ve been wanting to be black like Ray since the day he walked into the locker room… can I get a penis plug and ass plug too?”
I chimed in. “ ‘Course you cain! If'n you iz gonna be one ov hiz extra-speshul muscle-bruthas, you gotz t'go all da way… right, Zack?”
Gauthier grinned. “You bet! Why don’t you strip and we can get started?”
The young patrolman sat down and began to take off his clothes. Zack noted with satisfaction that overall, McLaren was smooth already.
“You wax, Tony?”
He shook his head. “Sarge gives us some cream that smells like oranges. I put that on and the hair comes off. There's less and less growth every time I use it, too. He likes keeping all of us uniforms smooth 'cause it shows off all the hard work from the gym. It was strange at first, but after a while, it’s just second nature since having hair itches now."
“Crawford’s Moisturizing Hair Removal Cream?”
“Yeah – that’s it.”
“Good – that doesn’t affect the dye. In fact, it helps keep it fresh.”
At the same time, I removed my compression tee and shucked off my pants as well. Other than a light coat of oil that highlighted the dark perfection of my slabbed pecs and etched six-pack, plus a pair of shiny Corcoran jump boots and socks, I was buck naked; my steel cockrings and penis plug gleamed in the light and provided a counterpoint to the glittering steel jewelry on my fingers and wrists and the CZ studs twinkling in my ears.
I chuckled as my partner’s eyes widened and his prong grew rigid in its prison. “Ah wantz t'be ree-laxx'd durin' yo' transfo'mayshun, bruh...” I stroked my erect cock and sauntered over to the patrolman and proceeded to unlock the triple ring that held Tony’s package captive and removed it. "An' bein' nekkid showz you how fuckin' HOT you iz gonna be..."
“Makes my job a lot easier then…” Zack checked his pits and pucker and motioned for him to sit in a modified barber’s chair and turned on the electric clippers. Clumps of hair landed on the floor and in a few moments, only a short stubble was left on Tony’s scalp. The artist pursed his lips as he looked into the rookie’s face. “I’m going to have to tint your eyebrows and lashes… they aren’t dark enough – Be right back.”
I stood behind him and my fingers traced the ink on Tony’s smooth chest. He shivered. “Ah been itchin' fo' 'nutha muscle-brutha at da precinct fo' summ reel ruff back-alley sex an' now itz gonna be mah own partner! Shee-it… we iz gonna git in summ reel trubble now…” He gave me a delighted smile as I tilted his head back and kissed him hard on the lips.
A few moments later, Zack arrived with a small bowl, some fine brushes, and mascara wands. He patted a slightly oily liquid on Tony’s eyelids and below his eyes, and placed some barrier pads below his eyes as well. Then he proceeded to use the mascara brushes to stroke the lashes.
“Keep your eyes closed, stud.” The patrolman complied. "I’m going to brush the dye onto your eyebrows and then put the remover on the patch of skin that was covered by the cockring. We’ll be done in about twenty minutes, so just relax. Have you ever shaved your head before?”
“No, Sir.”
Tony felt my rough fingertips stroke his forehead and smiled. “Ah’ll showz you how, whiteboy… Zack, you got summ Headbladez n' stuff in da baff-room?” I chuckled and kissed the top of my partner's head. "Tho you ain't gonna be a whiteboy fo' much longa..."
Gauthier nodded. “Yep. After you clean off the stubble, take a shower. Use the body and facial scrub to make sure your skin is nice and smooth to take the dye evenly.”
* * *
After the remnants of the hair dye had been gently washed from his face, we entered the industrial bathroom that was part of the warehouse complex. The two of us stood in front of some sinks and I began to instruct Tony on how to use the equipment to shave his head.
“Ah didn’ do mine dis mornin' neither, so jus' follow wat Ah do, 'kay?”
McLaren nodded.
“First off, rub summ hot water on yo' haid. Once a week, use Headshed – dat’s an ex-foliator – tah clean off yo' scalp. Rinse dat off if'n you did it, an' den squeeze 'bout a haff-dolla size o' HeadSlick shaving cream on yo' palm an' rub it 'round.”
Tony followed my lead and we now had a thin layer of rich lather on our heads.
“Next, takez da Headblade an' slipz it on yo' middle finger – bladez fo'ward an' dem little rollerz in da back. Lay it on yo' head an' startin' frum da front, do long strokez front ta back. Don’ push it down, jus' makez sure it’s alwayz touchin' yo' haid. An' don’ let dem bladez getz too clogg'd – keepz rinsin' 'em out.”
Tony watched me as I cleaned the stubble from my head and grinned as he began to eliminate the stubble from his own scalp as well.
“Rub da HeadSlick lather dat’s on da back ov yo' haid up towardz da top. Now, flipz da Headblade 'round an' do long strokez frum da back ov yo' haid tah da front. You kin feelz if you got any hair lef' an' hear it – you getz dat scrapin' sound when d'ere’s any remainin'.”
My partner and I continued shaving and he grinned as he finished and felt his silky scalp. He admired the completely smooth surface and grinned.
“Damn, Ray – this feels great!”
“Lookz great too, bruh! You a natural wiff dis! Okay – jus' like yo' face, rinse when you iz done. Afta you getz da dye, you finish up wiff a bit o' HeadLube Glossy – givez you dat perfec' shine on yo' bald haid.”
I poured a bit of the HeadLube into a palm and rubbed my hands together. Then I stroked my hands over my cleanly-shaved scalp. “See?”
Tony whistled. “Jeez, you look so fucking sexy, Ray… I still can’t believe I’m gonna become a hot-looking African thug soon…”
I stroked his shaft. “Dat you will… 'kay – reg'lar shave on yo' face an' neck. Takez a shower an' use da scrubz all over. Cummz out when you iz done."
* * *
“DAMN! You are going to be one amazing black Breeder, Tony!” Every muscle was in sharp definition and his newly shorn head gleamed in the overhead lighting. He was going to look even more cut and jacked once he had dark skin.
“I need to do some areas by hand first since the airbrush is not going to be able to reach them properly. Bend over and grab your ankles for me?”
Tony complied and I smiled as his pucker started to darken. Even though I had gone through the same process, it was a different experience altogether to watch it being done to someone else. Soon, his rosebud was completed as well as the areas between his toes.
“Tony – you thunk 'bout wat yo' muscle-brutha name gonna be?”
“I was thinking of using my dad's middle name…”
“Which is?”
“Benjamin.”
“Uh-huh. Dat’ll work. Wat 'bout yo' las' name? How 'bout ‘Green’ ?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Doesn’t feel right.”
“ ‘Wilson’ ?”
“Benjamin Wilson…” He said it a couple of times and made a face. “Mehh…”
Zack chimed in. “What about ‘Cantrell’ ?”
“Benjamin Cantrell…” He smiled and nodded. “I like that one.”
I grinned. “Dat soundz good an' black too… t'anks Zack.”
The next stop was the airbrushing booth. I helped my partner up onto the platform and then Zack and I donned the plastic suits and respirators to protect our own skin against any airborne residue.
“Tony, like I said the dye is solvent-based. Take slow, shallow breaths. If you start feeling light-headed, let us know. Okay?”
“Yessir.” His erect cock was bobbing in time to his heartbeat.
“Wide stance, arms out straight from your sides, fingers spread and close your eyes.”
Zack began to cover my partner’s body with light coats of the material. I found myself leaking inside the suit as I watched the whiteboy police officer who walked in with me this morning transform into a hulking, black ghetto rat.
* * *
“All done, Tony. Just stay there for a few minutes while I put the heaters and blowers on.” We removed the plastic suits as the warm air swirled around the three of us.
“Open yo' eyes, bruh.” Tony blinked and looked at his now-chocolate-colored body. I helped him down.
“Fuuucckk…” My partner broke out into a wide grin. He was amazed at the perfectly dark skin he now wore and stared in wonder at the lighter mocha of his palms and around his fingertips as well as his thick, darker horsecock with a swollen mocha head. He started to stroke his dick.
“Wow... it looks even BIGGER than when I came in…”
I laughed. “Jus' wat you needz tah Breed dem whiteboyz raw, Benjie…”
“Oh, man...” He looked ready to erupt.
I reached out and lightly pulled his hand away. “Waitz 'till you iz all dunn, bruh. B'leeve me, it’ll be wurff it.”
Zack sat him down in the chair again. "Feet up. I just have to touch up your heels that were on the plank." The artist proceeded to use a small airbrush to match the strip of pale skin to the deep mocha of the bottom of his feet.
“We’ve only got a few more steps left, Ben. First off, open wide and say ‘Ahhhhh…’” He sprayed four squirts of liquid down his throat. “That’s going to deepen your voice. We’ll let that work while we finish off your nose and lips. Try not to talk for a bit..." Then he fastened a Crest Whitestrips adhesive over his upper teeth. He winked. "For contrast..."
Once that was completed, he filled a small syringe with a clear liquid.
“Now I’m going to inject the expansion solution. You’re going to feel three little pricks on your lower and upper lips. The stuff is like the histamine in a mosquito bite, but it’s not going to itch or feel hard.”
The transformation artist then swabbed the inside of my partner’s nostrils. “Okay, this gel is a combination mild anesthetic and adhesive. I’m going to put some semi-hard rubber tunnels in your nose to widen and change its shape. This material prevents you from sneezing them out by accident.” Zack pushed one tunnel in, adjusted it and then inserted the other. He turned to me. “What do you think, Ray?”
My cock was leaking like a faucet. All traces of "Tony McLaren" were fading away. As I watched, his lips thickened and developed a sensuous new fullness; combined with his newly flattened and widened nose, those features dominated the entire lower third of his face.
The only thing left were his eyes. My partner had beautiful whiskey brown-gold eyes and looking at them, you could still see Tony’s soul peering out through those orbs. They had to be obliterated.
The sooner Benjie saw absolutely no trace of his former existence as a white cop (or a white MAN, for that matter), the sooner he would identify completely with the black thug he had become, and with any luck, decide – like me - to remain a Nubian lowlife permanently.
“You gotz great eyez fo' a whiteboy, but dey iz too pretty an' too light t'be onna muscle-brutha frum da 'hood. Dey needz t'be like mine – dark, dark brown – almos' black. Dey gotz t'be in-tense.”
Zack nodded. “Yeah. I agree… Ben, open your eyes wide for me?”
“Sure… Wow… mah voice iz complet'ly diff'rent!” He grinned and spoke in a mid-baritone with a noticeable drawl due to the new thickness of his lips.
“I’m going to put in some really comfortable, ultra-dark contact lenses. You can leave them in for 30 days at a time if you want. You can even sleep in them. Ray uses the same ones.” Zack inserted them and Ben blinked as he adjusted to the lenses.
“Ah cain't even tell Ah've got 'em in now! How do Ah look, Ray?”
“You lookz amazin' an' reddy tah horsefuck, Benjie!” He looked perfectly, totally and UTTERLY black. "Tony McLaren" was completely gone and 'Benjamin Cantrell' was now firmly in his place. Hopefully, for good. “Don’ move… Ah gotz sumpthin' fo' you.”
I jogged over to my backpack and pulled out a small brown bag. I jingled the contents as I returned to the newly-minted black gang-banger sitting in the chair and poured the contents into my palm.
“Muscle-bruthas gotz tah hav bling, right?" I had purchased several steel rings, bracelets and a pair of steel huggie earrings for his Transformation.
A dazzling white smile split his face. “Oh, man… t'anks Ray! D'ese are perfect!” Ben quickly slipped the rings on most of his fingers and I handed Zack the earrings to pierce into my partner's ears. He gave me a deep chuckle. “D'ese are gonna make me feel like a REAL black man!”
“You IZ a REEL black man now, Benjie! You AIN'T no whiteboy no mo' ! Don’ fo'getz dat! Wanna see da new an' improv'd you?”
“Shitchyeah! Letz go!” He bounced out of the chair and I brought him around the corner to the full length mirror.
TONY/BEN
“Christ Almighty…” I stared in amazement at the imposing and formidable African male I had become. My hands felt the smooth chocolate skin of my shorn head and ebon fingers stroked my now-ethnic face, marveling at the perfectly proportioned wider nose and thicker lips. Like Ray, my new features and skintone were completely indistinguishable from that of a naturally born black man.
My hands slid down my dark slabbed pecs and pinched the darker nips so they pointed down to the floor. I couldn’t wait to put my nip rings back in. My eyes were an intense deep brown and the deep voice coming out of my mouth was not my own. Everything was totally and terrifyingly different. The steel rings gleamed on my hands and the earrings glittered on either side of my head.
“Wow... d'ere’s not a trace ov me left… Ah REALLY am a muscle-brutha now…” Saying that out loud, I felt a wave of absolute terror wash over me with the realization that ‘Tony McLaren’ was gone but that was immediately replaced by feelings of exhilaration, raging lust and an amazing degree of self-confidence that becoming ‘Benjamin Cantrell’ produced. No wonder Ray wants to stay this way… being a black guy feels incredible... My cock was ready to explode.
My partner wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck. His nearly black eyes were hooded as he looked at me in the mirror. “Dat's right... d'ere’s ONLY 'Benjie Cantrell' now, bruh… an' he be one sexy an' intimidatin' no-good black muthafucka… getz reddy t'hav dem whiteboyz an' musclecopz lined up jus' beggin’ t' be Bred by you now...”
Ray's massive dick was pressed demandingly against my ass and his dark hands reached around to stroke my own painfully erect horsecock. It didn’t take more than a couple of strokes to have my nuts contract and the orgasm of my life thunder through me.
“Uggghhhhh!!” My cock jerked in his hand and the explosion of cum literally covered the entire lower half of the mirror. I was gulping air from the force of my release.
“Jeesus, dat wuz amazin'…”
"CLICK"
I looked down to see Ray’s dark hands fastening the triple cockring around my package and then locking it back in place.
He grinned at me. “We gotz t'show off our bulgez, Benjie – C-rings keepz our cockz an' ballz alwayz reddy fo' Breedin' raw… ‘sides, Ah don’ wanna hav Sarge bust mah armz…”
“Mmmmm…” It felt good to have metal around my shaft and sac again. Even better now that I was an African thug and all that entailed. I turned my head around to kiss him hard. “T'anks, Ray.” I stroked my tool; given my level of arousal, it didn't take much to get me hard again and ready to shoot.
Zack threw me a bottle of lube. Then he peeled off his shorts. “Hey Ben, I want to be the first one to get raped by that huge black cock of yours…”
Ray chuckled. “Dis kinky whiteboy likez it RUFF, Benjie… reel, reel ruff...”
“Happy tah o-blige, Zack… now stretch yo'self ovva dat workbench...an' spread dem legz wiiide open fo' me an' mah cock...” I was surprised how quickly I identified to my new existence as Benjie - a low-class black man - and was already emulating Ray's ghetto speech patterns. 'Tony' was a white guy - I wasn't. That realization hit me like a ton of bricks. Shit... and being this way felt so instinctively RIGHT, too...
I poured a thick amount of lube onto my cock and grabbed his trim waist. I lined my dick up and shoved myself in.
Zack moaned as my black shaft drilled deeper into his body and he pounded his fists on the table in agony as I split him open. When my sac hit his cheeks, I felt Ray grab my waist as he rammed his cock up my ass as well.
“An' AH wantz t'be da first one tah Breed dat hot black ghetto ass ov yo's…” The three of us soon set up a punishing rhythm of fucking each other and in a short while, we screamed in unison as torrents of spunk exploded simultaneously from three hypersexed and sweaty bodies.
* * *
Ray ground his cock against my prostate. "Well? You getz off on yo' firs' butt-fuckin' a whiteboy az a brutha?"
"Shitchyeah!" I did the same with Zack beneath me; he moaned in pleasure as I pumped my prong inside him and softly kissed the back of his neck. Damn, it felt so good... and so... electrifying... to be a black ghetto rat and to force myself into a white guy...
Ray pulled out and slapped my ass. "You alwayz wuz a great fuck, bruh... but you even betta now dat you iz a muscle-brutha!! You sed 'chu want'd plugz, didn' chu?? Ah brung da buttplug you gotz up yo' ass afta we had alley-sex da firs' time..."
I pulled out of Zack as well and he levered himself off the table. "Let me get a penis plug for you." I noticed that he was limping. So did Ray. He grinned. "You dunn good, Benjie. If dey ain't limpin', you didn' Breed 'em hard 'nuff..."
I laughed at that. It felt so amazing to be a gangsta like my partner now. "Be right back. Gotz t'wash off befo' Ah putz mah cock-plug back in." He loped off to the bathroom. Zack returned with a plug in a sealed plastic envelope and a tube of lube.
"Two things you always need to do whenever you use your penis plug, Benjie... Wash your hands and your plug with antibacterial soap first before insertion." He went over to the small sink next to the makeup chair and washed his hands with the liquid soap and used the washcloth to clean off the lube and cum from my cock as well. Then he motioned me into the chair. He tore open the envelope and used the lube to thoroughly coat the three-inch steel shaft.
"This is a surgical steel thru-hole plug, so you can keep it in all the time if you want. You have to use a little more effort to piss and cum, but the sensations are force-multiplied when you have a piece of metal down your cock. The other thing is you always have to use surgical lube - like this - not regular lube."
Zack placed the tip into my cock and began to push it in. I gritted my teeth in pain as the shaft was pushed into my dick. I watched as the steel disappeared until finally only the glans ring and a small section of the shaft was laying against the top of my penis. I hissed as Zack then squeezed my mocha-colored head and pushed the remainder into my cock and settled the retaining ring into place.
"Ahhh..." I hefted my tool with pleasure as I saw the steel ring right below my swollen cap of my dick and the thick silvery wire disappearing into my piss-slit. It was a perfect addition to the shiny steel surrounding my package. With the penis plug in place, I was getting stiff again and as I stroked my shaft, I could feel the hardness of the metal within it. "Damn... dis feelz so fuckin' RIGHT..."
"Datz part ov bein' one ov Zack's xtra-speshul black thugz, Benjie..." Ray had come back out of the bathroom and I could see that he had inserted his own cock- and ass- plugs as well.
"Time fo' yo' buttplug. Bend ovva an' Ah'll ram it in." He was holding the heavy metal plug in his hand. It was torpedo-shaped with a round base connected to the plug itself by thick black rubber tubing. I stretched over the workbench and widened my stance as Ray lubed the plug and pushed it into my ass. Once the widest part of the dildo passed my sphincter, my guts sucked the rest of it in until the base was locked tightly against my cheeks. "Standz up, Benjamin - now you iz a compleet muscle-brutha ... cock an' ass plugged wiff metal an' steel framin' yo' junk... Ah iz so damned PROUD ov you fo' takin' such a big step, bruh... we gonna be fuckin' an' fistin' like d'ere's no t'morrow..."
Zack handed me a pair of tube socks and size-11 paratrooper boots. I slipped on the socks and bent over to pull the boots onto my feet. The metal up my ass shifted and I grinned as a low-buzz of pleasure swept through me. After they were laced tightly, I slouched the socks down to the top of the boots and admired my new self. I looked as obscenely sexy as my partner now. And I felt twice as horny. The steel around my package and down my shaft looked even more sexy with my newly dark skin.
Ray gathered me in his arms and kissed me. Our thick lips met and our tongues dueled for supremacy as crotches ground together and we fondled each other's buttplugs.
* * *
JAMIE
Tommy and I finished our shift early and headed home to change into our leathers before heading back to the warehouse. Zack greeted us at the main entrance after he buzzed us in.
“How’d it go?”
“Benjie turned out great. He’s one impressively fearsome black thug.”
“Benjie?” I gave Zack a quizzical look.
“’Benjamin Cantrell’ – I've inserted his criminal background data into NCIC and NIBRS, but I still have to finish up the temporary official IDs and credit cards."
You made him a perp?"
Zack grinned. "I built a similar profile for Ray before - I figured BOTH of them should be legitimate, right? I gave Mr. Johnson a very unpleasant history to begin with and I just added to it... now everyone in law enforcement can see their records as well...if they get caught doing anything ... unsavory..."
Tommy shook his head in wonder and smirked. "Zack, you are a real thorough sonofabitch..."
The transformation artist laughed. "I can definitely see Benjie being an even better enforcer for you than Ray. Anyone steps out of line, they get beaten and raped by him. Although given the size of his tool and your patrolmen’s appetites, you’ll probably be having wholesale loss of discipline at the precinct with that threat - or should I say 'promise' - hanging over their heads…”
“Where is he now?”
“Jesus H. Christ…” If I hadn’t been able to pick out the ink on his dark arms and chest, I would have never known that the man was Tony McLaren; there was not a shred of the white patrolman left in the dieseled black gang-banger in front of me.
'Benjie' was leaning against a workbench with his shiny bald head thrown back and eyes closed in pleasure as Ray knelt before him swallowing his entire cock down his throat. Cantrell’s skin was a deep chocolate brown - darker than his partner's - and every muscle was etched in with incredible definition. With the exception of combat boots and a light coating of oil gleaming on their skins, both black men were stark naked. Johnson heard us enter and managed to give us a wicked smirk with his mouth full of Ben’s ebon man-meat. The newly-minted African punk was oblivious and enjoying how the kneeling man was pleasuring him. Seeing the two of them together, I fantasized about Zack Converting the entire precinct - myself included - into oversexed and uncontrollable bald, black thugs...
He grunted. “Shee-it, Ray… dat feelz so fuckin' good… you iz one dayumm fiiiine' cocksuckin' nigga, bruh…” His voice was a deep rumble – a far cry from the low tenor of the man he had been only hours ago - and had developed a noticeable ethnic drawl as well.
“Mmmm-hmmmm” Ray murmured as he continued to vacuum his partner’s cock down his gullet while the other black man stroked his head and neck.
“Oh fuckkk….argghhhhhhh….” Ben arched his back and exploded down Ray’s throat. I watched as it convulsed with the amount of cum that was pouring into it.
“Looks like you’re having fun…”
Ben’s eyes snapped open and he gave us a wide, bright grin. His eyes were now an intense brown-black and served to further distance the man in front of us from the rookie patrolman we had brought in. My own dick was ready to burst out of the leather pouch as I stared at his massive black horsecock dripping with cum and once again imprisoned within the triple locked cockring. I also noticed that he – like Ray – was wearing a penis plug as well, and steel earrings glittered in his lobes.
The massive African sauntered over to me with a newfound boldness in his step. “Ah cain’t b'leeve how amazin' dis feelz! Bein' a muscle-brutha iz such a fuckin' rush! T'anks fo' lettin' Zack make me inta a reel black thug! An' Ah seen mah rapsheet... Ah iz one gen-u-wine lowlife, muthafuckin' FELON now, too !! So iz Ray-Ray!!” I ran my hands down his heavily inked arms and rested them on his trim, muscular hips. He grabbed my harness and pulled me roughly to him – I was surprised at his aggressiveness as he gave me a hard kiss. His dark eyes smouldered with lust as he let go. “Ah wantz you tah FUCK me so hard Ah cain’t r'member mah name..." He paused and smirked. "...Suh.” I was absolutely floored by his behavior. This criminal needs to be taught a lesson - he's even cockier than Ray... and talks even more like a ghetto rat.
Johnson had gotten up from his knees and was massaging Tommy’s crotch with an anticipatory grin. He looked over his shoulder at me. “Lookz like you gotz yo'self a handfull wiff Benjie, Sarge. Mebbe you needz tah keep a couple ov us bruthas on hand alla time, huh? Ah’m shure da otha guyz woodn’ mind bein' new an' improv'd like us an' gettin' chang'd inta ovvasexed black ghetto muthafuckas neither…”
I could see the wheels turning in Tommy’s mind. If there was one thing my lover was, it was inventive.
I grabbed Ben’s ass and got another surprise as my fingers found the metal base of his buttplug. It was nearly hot to the touch. I gave Tommy a look and received an imperceptible nod in return. Simultaneously, the two of us spun the black men around and cuffed their hands behind their backs.
BEN
The two sergeants shoved us along the corridor to the dungeon. Ray grinned at me and gave me a knowing look. He had said once I became a gang-banger, there would be things that turned my crank that never did before. Being manacled seemed to be one of them. My cock was already rigid with lust and I could feel every inch of the penis plug within it; I was dribbling pre-cum like a leaky faucet as we moved down the passageway and I was so aroused that I wanted nothing more to stroke myself to orgasm again or thrust my tool into another waiting hole to breed raw.
Jamie drove both of us into the playroom and Sergeant Namisato uncuffed us. “Get in the slings.” He gave me another shove. “NOW, Benjie!”
I hastened to comply. Jamie then proceeded to lock my wrists and ankles into the attached restraints. In a moment, Ray and I were imprisoned in the suspended leathers – we weren’t getting out until the two MasterCops decided to release us.
Sarge grabbed the base of my buttplug and yanked it out of my ass. I yelped and I got a hard slap on my asscheeks. I was surprised how fast I got accustomed to something up my chute and hated the feeling of being empty. Hmmm... I guess being plugged all the time is another muscle-brutha necessity I gotta get used to...
“That is one good-looking black hole, Benjie… I’m gonna fill it up with something even better than a buttplug – and by the time we finish with you, you won’t be able to stand up, let alone walk…”
Jamie unsnapped his pouch and his thick nine inches sprang out, already purpled with need and rigid with lust. He poured a thick amount of lube onto his tool and in one thrust shoved it into my ass. I screamed in pleasure as I felt his balls hit my cheeks and my grip tightened around the chains supporting the sling as he set up a brutal pistoning of his cock into my guts.
“Yeah!!! Fuckz me harda, Sarge! HARDA!” I didn’t think he could do it, but he did. Every thrust of his leather-clad hips rattled my teeth and vibrated the metal shaft down my cock. I felt his mushroom head swell within me and then he threw his head back and roared as his filled my guts with his seed. I exploded again and covered my abs in a sheet of silvery cum. Erupting with the penis plug stuffed down my cock was UNBELIEVABLE.
We were both gulping air into our lungs from exertion when I turned my head to see Tommy Namisato plowing Ray with equal abandon. His Asian features were twisted with effort as he mercilessly rode my partner and Ray was screaming obscenities as he was violated over and over again. Finally, the sergeant thrust into him and bellowed as he too filled Ray’s innards with his spunk. He gave the hard black horsecock a few pulls and my partner erupted as well.
The two sergeants recuperated as we hung captive in the slings. I could feel a dribble of cum slip out of my tortured ass as I imagined what was up next for me.
I didn’t have long to wait.
Jamie grabbed a bottle of J-Lube and proceeded to coat his hand and forearm in a slick glove of the jelly-like material; he gave me an evil grin. “Tommy’s been giving me plenty of fisting lessons… you’re gonna be my graduation test, Benjie.”
I smiled. “Yeahhh!!! Punchfuckz me tah da shoulder, Suh! Ah gotz t'hav yo' arm insidez me! Ah needz it! Ah needz it BAD!!!!”
Jamie grinned at his partner. "What a pair of ghetto asspigs..." Meanwhile, Sergeant Namisato had already lubed himself up and most of his forearm was already inside of Ray; my partner had his eyes closed and his head lolled back in ecstasy as he was being handballed. “Don’ let Benjie give you no smack, Sarge… he took me up past da elbow two weekz ago…he jus' luvz... Jeez… dat feels so fuckin’ HARDCORE, Tommy…” The other sergeant’s bicep had just began to enter Ray’s asshole and he was going for the shoulder.
My sphincter burned as Sarge forced two, then three, then four fingers into my chute. He rotated his hand to stretch me open and added more lube as he continued his prep work on my ass.
“On the count of three, I want you to scream as loud as you can, understand?”
Jamie’s eyes bored into mine.
I nodded in agreement. “Yes, Suh.”
“Good.” He continued to play with my ass for a while. “One…”
He pulled out and slapped my cheeks, then slid his fingers back into my gaping hole. “Two…”
Jamie flexed his fingers inside of me and I felt the movement with every fiber of my being. “Three!”
I took a deep breath and screamed. At the same moment, Jamie tucked in his thumb and rammed his fist up my ass.
The pain was incredible. Jamie’s hand was a lot larger than Ray’s. I was breathing heavily as I watched in the overhead mirror as Sarge’s hand and wrist vanished into my guts. He rotated his fist within me and tickled my prostate. The sensation was unbelievable; I was riding an incredible high.
“Feel good, Benjie?” He gave my cock a stroke with his other hand. One more touch and I was ready to explode. Again.
“Ohhh yeah… keepz it goin', Suh - Ah kin takez it.”
Sarge gave me a wicked laugh. “Of course you can take it... you don't have any fucking choice, you goddamned ghetto scumbag ...” Then he started to push deeper.
* * *
I had another mind-ripping orgasm when Sarge’s elbow passed my ass-ring. “Oh God, oh God… dat feelz so fuckin’ good…” Tommy had already shoved his entire powerful arm up into Ray’s body, pulled it out and was in the process of shoving it back in again. My partner was babbling incoherently with pleasure.
I felt Sarge’s fingers deep with me. “Final stretch Benjie… you ready?”
“Yeah… takez me tah yo' shoulda, Suh… Ah gotz t'hav yo' whole arm up insidez mah ass…” I had to prove myself a real muscle-brutha. Just like Ray. His arm continued its journey and every inch was now a battle between his strength and my intestines. Slowly, I watched as his twenty-one inch bicep was swallowed by my guts.
“Oh, fuckkkkk…” We both smiled in triumph as the rest of his arm slid inside of me and his deltoid rested again my asscheeks.
“We did it Benjie… you are one voracious black sex pig, you know that?”
“Oh, yeah… feelz so good havin' a musclecop’s whole arm insidez ov me… shee-it... you DA MAN, Sarge…” My eyes rolled back in my head as I reveled in the sensations within me: my ass-ring burned, my guts were clamped around Sarge’s massive arm and his fingers were doing a cha-cha deep within me.
He began to pull out and I whimpered when he finally withdrew his limb. “Dayummm... Ah feelz so fuckin' empty now, Suh… pleez put yo' arm back in mah gutz!!” He squirted more lube onto his arm and grinned as he slid his hand back in my ass and began his journey once more. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply in pleasure.
* * *
I don’t know how long we stayed that way… Jamie’s entire arm within my body and every movement sending lightning bolts of pleasure through me. Finally, he began to withdraw and then I felt the PLOP of his fist leaving my ass.
Tommy sauntered over and grabbed my hips. Jamie did the same to Ray. “Like Sergeant Reardon said, we BOTH have to check out the merchandise… and it looks like I’m gonna enjoy it as well…” He shoved his thick cock into me and began to pump.
* * *
Sergeant Namisato exploded several times within my guts; I lost count after his fourth orgasm. Finally he pulled out and gave the tip of my steel-shod dick a kiss. “You are one amazing fuck, Benjie… we’re gonna be having a lot of fun with TWO of you low-life black scumbags around now…”
I was exhausted but I managed a tired grin in return. “T'anks, Suh… Ah cain’t waitz tah git mo' musclecopz t'plow an' punchfuck mah black ass… an' breedz me summ whiteboyz too...”
Zack came into my vision. “Speaking of that, we’ve got to keep that hole of yours ready for anything, don’t we??…” I felt something large press again my pucker and I saw Zack begin to twist a giant screw plug into my guts. After Jamie’s arm up my ass, the dildo wasn’t as much an effort, but the threads stretched my intestines in a way that Sarge’s arm hadn’t. Deeper and deeper it went, until Zack’s final twist had it disappear completely within me, leaving only its thick metal end-ring pressed tightly against my pucker. He nodded in approval when he gave it a tug and it stayed put. “Now it's time you two got some rest…”
I was expecting him to unlock me but I was surprised when he began to rub some lube onto my face and scalp. The artist then proceeded to pull an eyeless black latex hood over my head; it had nose holes and an open mouth. Once it was adjusted properly, I felt a ball gag being shoved between my teeth and strapped tightly and locked around my neck. Despite the painful fullness of the giant plug in my ass and the discomfort of the steel shaft in my achingly erect cock, the utter darkness was overwhelming and I soon drifted off to sleep - deeply content and totally relaxed in my complete and utter transformation into a black man -- a lowlife repeat offender with a long history of arrests and convictions.
* * *
ZACK
The two leathermen looked proudly at the imprisoned African gang-bangers. “Damn, they look good…”
Indeed they did. Each heavily-inked ebon body gleamed with a combination of sweat and oil; each twisted and struggled in pain within the confines of their restraints in the slings. Dark-skinned asses displayed the thick steel rings of the giant dildos fixed within them and each head of the huge, erect horsecocks gleamed with the retaining ring of their embedded metal shafts as well. The thugs' heads were encased in featureless black latex masks with the only splash of color being the red of the ball gags in their mouths. Soon, both men stopped moving and it was obvious from the slow rise and fall of their chests that they had fallen asleep. Tommy’s hand slipped into my shorts and squeezed my package. He licked his lips and gave me a wink. “You mentioned a three-way before, Zack… you up for another one?”
I wrapped a hand behind his head and gave him a hard kiss. “You actually need to ask?”
* * *
RAY
Benjie and I spent the night hooded and captive in our slings. The next morning, Zack unlocked me from mine; I peeled off the latex hood from my head and then got down on all fours to remove the screw dildo within me. Then I went over to Benjie and woke him up with a hard slap to his ass.
"Mmmmhhmmmppphhh!!!" He struggled wildly in the suspended leather until he realized where he was. I undid the ball gag from his mouth and then gave him a kiss on his thick lips. "Time tah getz up Benjie - itz yo' firs' day az a muscle-brutha! An' a crim'nal!!" I unlocked the restraints and helped him out of the sling. "Getz down on all fourz, bruh - itz da bes' way tah takez out da plug." I had him bear down as I grabbed the ring and pulled. Soon, the large base appeared and I started to unscrew the massive object from his ass. Once it was out, I screwed it all the way back in and made him take it out by himself. Then I got him to his feet and we went into the industrial bathroom to get ready for the day.
* * *
In addition to shaving and showering, the prep involved cleaning and reinserting our contacts, using the voice spray, a slow mutual sucking session and the reinsertion of our smaller "on-duty" metal buttplugs. It was a new experience for my partner to have a metal-shafted cock down his throat, so I was gentle with him... this time. He did the same for me and we left Zack's warehouse and headed to the Four-One with a heavy load of cum already in our guts.
The silence was deafening as Benjie and I walked into the locker room. Double-takes abounded and every jaw dropped open as he walked to his locker and covered the 'McLaren' nametag with a piece of tape with 'Cantrell' on it.
I gave the assembled crowd a bright white grin - "Wat 'chu starin' at? Ain't you nevva seen two muscle-bruthas t'gether befo' ?" Benjie laughed and stripped off the t-shirt that was clinging to every muscle of his upper body and opened his locker to change into uniform. His ink and steel nip rings looked even more obscene on his smooth, black skin. My partner opened his backpack and slipped into a leather chest harness as well.
"Holy Jesus! Tony, is that you?" Wade Lopez stopped dead in his tracks as he walked out of the showers. He had only a towel around his neck and his mocha cock began to swell in response.
The handsome Latino got a wicked smirk from the newly Converted black man. "Tony be on 'speshul assignment' fo' a while, Wade. Ah iz fillin' in fo' him. Mah name's Benjie. Benjie Cantrell." There was a collective intake of breath as he stripped off his jeans and black jock to display the steel plugs down his shaft and up his ass. Thanks to those pieces of equipment, my partner's horsecock now sported a permanent semi hardon; but seeing Lopez naked flipped his switch from low-level horny to full-blown rampaging lust. Benjie loped over to Lopez and ran deep brown fingers down his chest and then fondled his ass; Wade stroked the detailed tats on his dark chest and arms. I was glad to see my partner's mindset was already firmly entrenched into that of a overconfident and oversexed black hoodie-rat after only hours since his Transformation.
"Ah gotz sumpthin' dat needz takin' care ov, chico - you wantz t'help me out?" He put his heavily muscled arm around Wade's shoulders and they turned the corner back into the showers. In a moment, everyone heard the grunts and slaps of some heavy-duty ass-raping going on. Benjie's deep voice echoed in the locker room. "Mmmm-mmm... You gotz one reel fine ass, Wade ... feelz like Ah'm wearin' a glove on mah cock..."
I grinned at the other cops as I began to strip as Benjie's and Wade's howls reverberated through the space as they orgasmed together. "Ah tol' Sarge d'ere cood be summ int'rest inna "Exchange Pro-gram" ... y'know ... you guyz takin' a coupla monthz o' so off... like Charlie o' Tony..." I winked. "... an' havin' bruthas wiff crim'nal recordz fillin' fo' you. Let 'im knowz if'n you wantz t'git in on da ackshun..."
* * *
BEN
Becoming a black man was such a mind-blowing experience. From a physical point of view, Zack's Transformation was nothing short of miraculous - in the span of a few hours, I had changed from a white cop to an African gang-banger without a shred of my original self remaining ... and the Change was so perfect that no one could even imagine I had ever been anything but the unrepentant ghetto rat I was now.
Mentally, the alterations were almost as immediate. First off, I wanted to wear as little clothing as possible - on or off duty. As a black guy, I looked incredible and I wanted to show off that body... I wanted to INTIMIDATE everyone that looked at me - and knowing I was a felon now reinforced that even more. That meant going commando during shift and wearing just a harness, boots and leather strapping whenever I could get away with it - like Ray, that also meant wearing a chest harness beneath my uniform shirt all the time. The containment of the penis- and ass-plugs on a constant basis had me in a permanently aroused mood, and I found myself looking at guys on the beat with an eye to stripping them naked and fucking them senseless against a brick wall or bent over a dumpster (In fact, Ray and I DO that - just not in uniform). I had the burning need to touch and fondle myself as well; I loved the feel of that steel shaft down my pisshole and it didn't take much to get me fully hard and leaking in a matter of seconds.
I found I was a helluva lot more aggressive and sexually demanding as well. I had plenty of sex already with the other guys at the precinct since I was still in my Initiation period, but becoming a black thug increased that volume by at least a factor of five - and even with that, I still wasn't satisfied.
I also followed Ray's lead in turning the tables on some of them - I enjoyed fisting and fucking cops almost as much as I relished being on the receiving end of that treatment. I got off - really got off - being cuffed or restrained in any way, and wearing the latex blackout hood with a ballgag in my mouth and the screwplug up my ass became my preferred method of going to sleep at night when I wasn't in bed with Jamie. Being choked was now a major turnon for me as well.
Cops and civilians alike reacted completely differently to me as 'Benjie Cantrell'. There was a combination of fear, lust, envy and jealousy in varying combinations in their eyes as they looked at me seeing a supremely confident, sexually aggressive, heavily-muscled and tattooed black man - in fact, I started back on the HGF and steroids to get even more ripped. The knowledge of that overwhelming sense of dominance and power was an incredible and a constant mindfuck to me as well. I fully understood how this metamorphosis affected Ray and why he wanted to remain Transformed this way. And I was coming around to the same conclusion. It was getting harder every day to believe I was ever anything BUT the cocky African thug I was now or that I should be anyone else ever again. And I spoke like a low-life ghetto rat 100% of the time now, just as Ray did.
Together with Sarge and Sam Halloran, the three of us were biggest guys at the Four-One; Sam and I always had to be careful not to hurt the other officers when they got plowed by us. As a thug however, I had a little more leeway and more than a few times, some of them left badly bruised and limping after I finished with them. It was at the Greasetank, however, that I could really go full throttle with my ever-increasing need for really rough sex - there was always a ready and willing supply of bottoms (and even tops) that couldn't wait to be punishment-fucked by a powerfully built Nubian sex machine. Ray and I often double-teamed at the club and we always left a trail of pain-wracked and bleeding bodies in our wake. And surprisingly enough, they always came back for more.
* * *
The two of us finished second watch and we had the day off tomorrow; we were going to spend the evening at the Greasetank fucking and fisting some "bottum boyz" till dawn. I was absolutely shocked when I arrived at his apartment and found him immobilizing an unconscious young Caucasian bent over his kitchen table. The captive was extremely well muscled and had short light-brown hair.
"Ray! Wat da FUQ iz you doin'??" My partner had tied the guy's wrists and ankles to the legs of the table and was now proceeding to wrap duct tape around the rope to create an unbreakable bond. Other than a harness and Corcorans, Ray was naked with the exception of the plug up his ass and the gleaming steel in and around his cock and balls. I was in similar condition; beneath my pair of fleece cutoffs and a windbreaker, I was wearing a chest harness as well and some leather strapping around my wrists and biceps - plus the same metal configuration. My jump boots gleamed in the warm light of the setting sun.
"Stop trippin', bruh... Ah figgered Ah'd getz us a fresh, white muscle puppy tah Breed raw befo' we headz ovva tah da Greasetank... cute, ain't he?" He grabbed the guy by his hair and pulled up his head to show him off, then let it drop back down. Ray plugged in a pair of electric clippers and proceeded to buzz the captive's scalp down to a non-existent stubble. "Gonna makez us our own pers'nal slave-boi..." He then removed the slight bit of facial hair and both eyebrows and nodded with satisfaction as he finished his work, humming as he followed up with shaving cream and a razor. "Lookz much better now, don' he?"
Ever since he was being tied over the table, my cock had been getting harder and harder. It was now leaking like a faucet as I stared at the hairless captive. I had an overwhelming desire to spread his muscular cheeks and shove my aching, black horsecock into him, but I was confused and ashamed at my response.
"Iz dis one ov da boyz frum da Greasetank?"
My partner gave me a wicked smirk. "Hell, no! Ah been stalkin' dis whiteboy fo' a few weekz now. It wuz time t'knock 'im out, drag 'im up here an' rape hiz ass."
I shook my head. "We cain't do dat! Dat's kidnappin' an' assault!"
Ray looked annoyed. "So wat?? We IZ muscle-bruthas, Benjie - wiff rap sheetz - don' fo'getz dat! Like we shood give a fuck if'n sumpthin' iz 'gainst da law? Ah ain't steered you wrong yet, huh? An' Sarge DID say you shood follow mah lead, right?" With each passing moment, the absolute thrill of what Ray was saying and doing crumbled whatever remaining inhibitions I had. He tossed me the captive's wallet.
"ID sayz hiz name be Reginald Beckett. He gonna wake up inna few minnits - takez off yo' clothez so he kin seez da two ov us together... an' pull out yo' penis plug. We gonna be doin' lotz ov deep dickin' tonite - startin' wiff dis whiteboy. Who knowz? If he be a good fuck, mebbe we'll payz him a visit inna few dayz at hiz 'partment too. Ah alreddy made copiez ov hiz keyz... leastwayz we cain do summ breakin' an' enterin' ..."
A few moments later, the captive's body twitched. Consciousness returned with a vengeance as he realized he was immobilized and struggled against his bonds. Then he raised his head to stare in horror at the two naked and harnessed black men before him. We were both grinning and stroking our cocks in anticipation.
"Hey Reggie... you jus' hit da lottery!! Tonite you iz gonna be fuck'd by two hot an' hungry African Breeders! Whiteboyz like you gotz t'learn how tah takez black man-meat down yo' throat an' up yo' ass whenevva a brutha gotz da need..." Ray paused. "Afta all, dat's all you good fo' !"
"Wha... huh?? What the fuck?? NO! NO!!!! Stay away from me!!!"
"You ain't got no choice..." Ray held up a mirror. "See? You iz a hairless slave now... makin' yo' Nubian masta happy iz wat you wuz born tah do..." He stroked Reggie's well-muscled back as he moved behind him. "Now dis be one fine lookin' SLAVE, Benjie... all he needz iz summ ink 'cross dem broad shoulderz tah show he be summ brutha's prope'ty..." He chuckled as he fondled Beckett's nutsac. "... An' den having d'ese ballz sliced off..."
That picture in my mind had me redlining. The man stopped struggling. "Oh God, no... please, mister, please... please don't nut me..." The captive trembled in terror.
Ray greased up his tool with a thick coating of lube and gestured me to do the same. "Ah ain't nuttin' you to-nite, Reggie. But by da time we getz dunn wiff you, you iz gonna be beggin' summ-one tah do it sumptime reel soon..." With that, he pulled the captive's muscular asscheeks apart and thrust himself past the pink rosebud.
* * *
Beckett screamed as he was torn open by Ray's horsecock up his ass. That was my cue to shove my own massive shaft down his throat. The two of us soon synced up and we established a brutal whipsaw rhythm on the captive proto-slave; when one of us pulled back, the other thrust in. It didn't take long for our nuts to contract and we howled as we spilled massive loads of cum down his throat and up his ass.
All three of us were breathing heavily from exertion. My partner and I got some bottles of water from the refrigerator and then moved into the dining room. "God-damn, Ray - you reely knowz how tah turn mah crank - 'nutted slaves' chain'd down an' spred wide open fo' fuckin' an' fistin' - wat a hot fantasy, bruh! Jeez!" I took a swig of water.
"Ain't no fantasy, Benjie... Ah seen it happen an' itz abso-fuckin'-lutely mindblowin'. Ah wuz d'ere when dis one slaveboy gotz hiz nutsac opened up. Da Vet - dat's da guy dat duz all ov d'ese oppa-rayshuns - rolled out hiz ballz, snipped 'em out an' den removed da sac too. Afta he got dunn, you coodn' tell he evva had ballz tah begin wiff!"
I choked at that revelation and Ray thumped me on the back. "Fuck you! You lyin'!!!" I continued to cough.
"Ah ain't lyin' Benjie... Adrian ownz him now. Hiz slave name iz Joao. If we be lucky to-nite, he'll be d'ere an' we kin bowff plow 'im good an' hard. Meantime, you recup'rated 'nuff tah fuck Reggie up da ass?"
My head was spinning with that revelation, but my cock was already stiff again with anticipation regarding the captive in the other room and the potential hole I'd be drilling tonight. I grinned at my muscle-brutha. "Shitchyeah! Letz go!"
* * *
We swapped positions and I thrust my cock up Beckett's chute as Ray drove his down the captive's gullet. Again, it didn't take us long to fill him up again with two more loads of Nubian man-seed. I had felt a change in his behavior as I was pumping into him; he was leaning back into my prong to get it deeper inside of him. Niiice... this whiteboy is a fast learner...
After we both pulled out, Ray squatted down to his face-level and grinned up at me. "Now, don' he look good, Benjie?? Cum drippin' outta hiz mouth an' ass... jus' da way a slave shood look..."
I chuckled. "Mmm-mmm-mmm... he lookz reel PROPPER, Ray... we gotz t'do dis mo' often!"
The exhausted young man lifted his head and croaked, "More, mister... please... gimme more cock... I gotta have more cock..." Then he started to cry.
Ray kissed his forehead. "Aww, Reggie... you kin fin' yo'self summ new bruthas tah drill yo' ass an' suck off now - da Black Gold Lounge on 127th Street iz a good place tah start. Meanwhiles, Benjie an' me gotz a date wiff plenty ov otha whiteboyz dat needz Breedin' t'night. So time fo' you tah go back tah sleep..." My partner produced a rag and pressed it over the captive's face. There was some slight struggling before the chemical knocked him out again. He locked a leather collar around his neck and then took out a knife and began to cut Beckett loose.
Ray whistled through his teeth as he removed the bonds. "He gonna wake up wiff a reel sore ass an' a bad sore throat... an' den he gonna start trollin' da gay barz tah service black men now dat he gotz a taste an' need fo' it. Ah kin tell. Ah kin smell it on 'im. See Benjie, Ah tol' you dat's wat whiteboyz wuz made fo'... now, dis iz even better'n back-alley sex, ain't it?" He raised dark brows and gave me a knowing grin.
It was. I hated to admit it, but it was such a rush to forcibly rape a whiteboy that was tied down and struggling. Then watching him realize he just became a muscle-brutha's property was the ultimate power-trip. But despite the high I was riding, I still felt some nagging twinges of guilt at my actions.
"But Ray, we jus' cain't kidnap an' rape guyz offa da street..."
He stroked my face and gave me a soft kiss with his thick lips; that simple action filled me with lust and my cock started to harden again.
"Why da fuck not, Benjie? Dey be plenty o' d'ese snot-nosed, cocky, white college-boyz struttin' 'round. Thinkin' da world owes 'em a livin'... but dey ain't worth SHIT. Dey needz fuckin', fistin' an' servitude. Dey needz tah be brung back tah re-ality! Dat's our duty az Nubians... az muscle-bruthas... az BLACK MEN!" He continued to kiss me and then his tongue slipped into my mouth.
God, I loved being an African. In that instant, I crossed the bridge from just looking like a black guy to knowing that I really was one now - I was 'Benjie Cantrell' - a street hustler, a gang-banger and a rapist. There wasn't enough money in the world to make me return to being a white man. And no one... NO ONE - not even Sarge - could force me. I laughed. And being a cop... THAT was the ultimate cover for doing whatever Ray and I wanted. To whomever we wanted.
"Yeah, you right, Ray..." I twisted the button of the plug in his ass. God, I needed to fuck him. Bad. He moaned and his hard cock pressed against my six-pack abs. I groaned. "Shee-it... But Ah gotz tah Breed yo' ass befo' we head out tah da Greasetank..."
We continued to kiss. "Fuck yeah... but we gotz tah take care ov Reggie first..."
My partner grabbed a pair of cargo shorts and managed to yank them most of the way up Beckett's torso. "Hold 'im up fo' me, bruh??" I lifted him upright from the table and Ray finished pulling them up and fastened them around his trim waist. He threw the pair of micro-trunks into the garbage. Ray chuckled. "Reggie here's gotz t'learn tah go commando frum now on..." The two of us got him into a chair and we managed to pull his tee shirt back over his torso. "We cain dump 'im in da service alley b'hind da building. We'll takez da elevator down tah da basement an' go out troo da back door. Ah gotz a firemanz key." We both pulled on a pair of cut-offs before I slung the unconscious man over my shoulder as we headed out of the apartment.
* * *
The two of us got lucky - Adrian and Joao were at the Greasetank that night. There was a long line of black and brown men waiting to get serviced by Weaver's slave, but it moved fairly quickly and soon I found myself next in line. I had been stroking my cock in anticipation of horsefucking Adrian's property. Adrian's property - God, I loved the sound of that...
"Jeezus Christ..." He was everything Ray said he was. The powerfully muscular slave was on his knees on a platform and his hands were in heavy-duty manacles attached to a chain in the floor. He was wearing an eyeless latex black hood with a locked collar and across his broad shoulders was the tattoo "PROPERTY OF ADRIAN WEAVER". There was only the faintest pink scar where his balls had been and he was currently sucking off a massive black bodybuilder.
I got a slap on my butt and Adrian Weaver laughed as I jumped. "You like wat you seez, Benjie? Wat you want? Ass o' throat?"
"Ass, Adrian...shee-it... da ink, da musclez an dat missin' nutsac iz such a fuckin' turnon..." Pre-cum was dribbling out of my cock from watching the action. The bodybuilder grunted as he exploded down the nutless slave's throat.
"No problem." He put his hand in the middle of the slave's back and he went down on all fours. "Ah like keepin' da hood on 'im whenever he don' need tah see. Which iz often. Keeps hiz mind on da bizness at hand - bein' a slave." He handed me a bottle of lube. "He's all yourz... fuck 'im hard - he needz it dat way."
"T'anks, bruh..." I slathered the lube on my aching cock and thrust myself into his waiting hole.
* * *
Several days later, I found myself standing in a desolate landscape on the lip of a deep chasm. I was my new-and-improved self of 'Benjamin Cantrell' and I was wearing only a harness, combat boots, my cockring and the metal plugs down my dick and up my ass. The wind was whipping around me with thunder and lightning splitting the sky with a crashing boom.
"It's a big step, Benjie. You sure you want this?" I turned to see my former persona - Tony McLaren - with a sad and pensive look on his face. He (or me?) was in his NYPD uniform.
"Of course he do! An' stop tryin' tah scare 'im off, whiteboy. Itz not dat big a step. Jus' look how far he cumm alreddy!" Ray was equipped as I was in only leather and steel and gave my old self an annoyed and angry look. He pointed a dark muscular arm and I followed his gesture to see unimaginably high cliffs as lightning sizzled through the sky again.
Ray walked past me and stepped into the abyss. He floated effortlessly above the pit and held out his hand to me to join him with a broad smile on his Nubian face. "C'mon bruh - itz jus' one mo' step..."
As I walked towards him, I plummeted into the black depths as his wicked laughter echoed around me.
I sat bolt upright with my heart hammering in my chest. I couldn't breathe and I was surrounded by utter darkness. I was disoriented and it took a moment for me to realize I had on the latex hood and the ballgag in my mouth. I had been dreaming. I quickly pulled both of them off and threw them across the room. The events of the previous week slammed into my mind like a wrecking ball.
I'm a cop - I swore an oath to serve and protect people... and I raped unsuspecting and unwilling men last Tuesday and Wednesday and LOVED it.
After we dumped him there, Ray and I surprised him inside his apartment yesterday when we assaulted him again; if what the two of us did hadn't already destroyed the poor kid, that second assault probably finished him off. My partner chuckled that we had just put the final touches on another soon-to-be nutless white slaveboy.
I had become as depraved as my partner; to prove myself to Ray, I raped and brutalized Ambrozek, burned down his business and home and framed him for the crime. And I got a massive hardon when Arkadiy Resnikov handed me a huge wad of cash for committing arson.
I got up and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked at Benjie in the mirror and I was both horrified and violently aroused at what I had become. If I stay this way any longer I know I'll do things even worse. And enjoy doing them. And there will never be any turning back for me. EVER. Dear God... I couldn't believe that I had been seriously considering having Zack make my Conversion permanent...
I took out my phone and dialed the transformation artist. He picked up after the second ring.
"Zack? Itz Benjie. Kin Ah cummz ovva an' hav you r'move da dye an' stuff?"
He sounded worried. "Why? You've been a muscle-brutha for only five and a half weeks.... you've still got some time before the perma-..."
"Ah know. Ah cain't stayz dis way. Ah cain't control mahself az a black muthafucka. Ah gotz tah stop. Ah gotz t'be jist 'Tony McLaren' agin."
"Okay, okay... come over in an hour. Your lips are still gonna be a bit swollen for some weeks and the lash and brow tinting is going to take longer than that to wear off..."
"Ah don' care. Ah gotz tah b'cumm da whiteboy Ah wuz..." After I hung up, I got down on all fours to remove the gigantic screw-plug from my guts.
* * *
When I walked into the precinct the following Monday, I was greeted with a number of very surprised glances. I didn't look completely like my old self yet, but I was definitely no longer Benjamin Cantrell. I already had some stubble on my head and my dark lashes and brows served to accentuate my light brown eyes. My lips were still thick, but overall, I looked like an exotic, mixed-race male physique model.
"Tony? Where's the muscle-brutha?" Ronnie Bearce grinned at me as he was sitting on a bench and tying a patrol boot.
I tore the 'Cantrell' label off my locker and opened the door. "Ah decided tah cumm back early." My voice was still deep and I still had an ethnic drawl.
Ray walked into the locker room and stopped dead in his tracks as he stared at me. "Wat happen'd tah you? Where'z Benjie?"
My face hardened. "He got outta hand, so Ah decided he hadda leave an' Ah hadda cumm back. Any otha questionz, Ray?" The tone of my voice brooked no argument.
"No, no ... itz all good... Glad you back..." My partner gave me a guilty look and headed into the bathroom.
Ronnie threw me a puzzled glance "What was that all about? You two have a fight or something?"
" 'Or sumpthin', Ronnie. Ah don' wanna talk 'bout it right now, 'kay?" I removed the 'Cantrell' id plate from my shield holder and threw it into the trash as well, replacing it with the original 'McLaren' one.
I smiled. "Ah'm jus' glad tah be back."
* * *
This part of the arc was suggested in the first installment of “Thug Tales” between Ray and Tony when Ray realized that Tony would like to be transformed as well. And while I had expected this to be one my shorter tales, as often is the case, my characters have a way of stepping in and demanding a change to my intentions.
This story also has the ability to straddle both the main storyline and the AU storyline that was developed in “Something Wicked This Way Comes.” Tony being transformed into the black thug Benjamin Cantrell is something that could occur with equal likelihood in both plots, makes sense, and adds depth to each as well.
Tony, like Charlie, is an outstanding young cop. Unlike Charlie, Tony lacks that spark of independence and potential for corruptibility that his partner possesses, but more than compensates with an incredible capacity of loyalty and devotion. He loves being a patrolman and he is completely satisfied with his life. He idolizes two men – Sergeant Jamie Reardon (as he is both his master and a surrogate father) and his partner (because he recognizes in Charlie Hawke the qualities he himself lacks).
As I was coming to the end of the story, it suddenly occurred to me that all throughout, I was modeling the young patrolmen on two of the major characters from Tolkien’s work; Tony McLaren is the Sam Gamgee to Charlie Hawke’s Frodo Baggins. Becoming a black punk was his adventure – he could more closely share his partner’s experiences and his Sergeant would also be inclined to treat him more like his partner as well.
Tony experiences the same physical changes as Charlie during his transformation, and the mental dislocations are also similar; the “need to breed”, the heightened sexual aggressiveness, the desire for penis- and ass-plugs, as well as the eagerness in wearing steel jewelry to become a “real thug” – all occur with him, but in a more compressed timeframe – McLaren's (or rather, Cantrell's) partner is responsible for encouraging the changes as fast and as comprehensively as possible.
xCharlie (as Ray Johnson) has already made the mental leap from merely appearing as a black man to truly being one – and he wants his partner to attain that mindset as well. The physical transformation is so perfect and so complete that the mental pressures to succumb are incredible. That psychological transformation is not without great cost, however; Charlie’s moral compass has spun wildly out of control and he is eager to have Tony (as Benjie) share in the darker and immoral activities of being one of Zack's “extra speshul muscle-bruthas”.
To a great extent, Ray’s subversion is successful – Benjie’s attitude begins to quickly mirror his own; he even reaches the point of no longer identifying himself as white – his self-image has become that of the black gangsta Benjamin Cantrell. However, when actions Rayshawn Johnson himself now considers inconsequential – abducting someone, drugging them and forcibly raping them – occur - this shocks Benjie’s moral compass back to its true orientation – and begins to obliterate the malign influences that were distorting it.
The dream with the abyss cements this return to normalcy; it also represents the turning point where Tony can “step back from the edge” and no longer blindly follow in his partner’s actions. We see a growing independence on Tony’s part and Ray sees and recognizes defeat in creating a depraved and kindred doppelganger. In the main storyline, this assists Ray to also turn his back on his current activities, and in the AU storyline, hardens his determination to go through with his permanent metamorphosis.
On a lighter note, I decided to at last formally introduce something that has been a regular fixture in many of my stories. The hair removal cream.
The "stuff that smelled like oranges" has made appearances with cops on both sides of the country, gang members and everyone in between. It's the best thing since sliced bread for staying smooth and showing off hard and hard-won muscular physiques.
I felt it was about time that it received some attention ... and besides, who BUT Joan Crawford could make something as spectacularly useful to such a wide spectrum of gay men?
As a technical factoid, I had somewhat hoisted myself onto my own petard when I indicated that many of the patrolmen got inked as part of their Initiation. Because of that, every picture of Ray and Benjie needed to be Photoshopped to include their tats and be completely consistent with the actions taking place. I also learned how to turn skin color a realistic brown during the process as finding appropriate interracial or black-on-black gay pictures is not easy! I still have some ways to go in producing a realistic looking bald head, but my technique is improving every day.
So for now, this ends the entire “black thug transformation” story arc. As I mentioned earlier, there will be one more tale, but that one will take place on the main story line and will feature a more “Mission:Impossible” plot where the transformation itself takes a more secondary role to the mission at hand!