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Enslaved

(MmB) (anal, oral, scat, ws) (cbt, humil) (blackmail, nc) (inc)

This is a racially charged work of erotic fiction. It is no way reflects the actual views of the author. This story was commissioned by African-American readers whose fantasy is submissive sex and humiliation and who find this type of scenario erotic. If this kind of work offends you, please refrain from reading it. We must keep the line of distinction between fantasy and reality. This was a rough piece to write and for many it maybe to rough to read.

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01

Ashanti Taylor had never been so terrified in all his eighteen years. He stood surrounded by a gang of white, teenage boys led by something out of an old-time newsreel, a big, beefy man dressed in Ku Klux Klan regalia. It was a sight all right, the flowing white robes whipping with a life of their own in the night wind, the faceless hood with two dark eye holes and the insignia, something Ashanti had only read about or heard stories of from the old folks.


After all, Ashanti was a college freshman on scholarship, not just an African-American sports scholarship either, he was a bright, young talent interested in engineering. He was a boy who had been sheltered from the harsh reality of what it meant to be black. He had grown up in a mostly white suburb and had felt very little prejudice. His mistake, I guess, had been in going to a college in the Deep South. He’d been warned about that but laughed it off. His other mistake had been to date a white girl. Back home this had been nothing. He’d taken a white girl to the high school prom, and nobody thought anything about it, but things were a bit more traditional down here.


The boys with the hooded night creature seemed ordinary enough. Fifteen and sixteen-year-old kids in school tee shirts and jeans, and work boots or athletic shoes. Boys with short choppy modern haircuts, boys with pug noses and some with freckles. Ordinary, roughhousing, teenage boys, laughing and joking with each other, poking each other in the ribs, sipping a couple of beers while they watched Ashanti. Why in God’s name then had Ashanti been dragged from his dorm bed in the middle of the night and dragged out here into the country dressed in only an undershirt and a pair of blue boxer shorts?


The Ku Klux Klan guy removed his hood and robe. He was a thick-set but nice looking man in his mid-thirties, your fellow auto mechanic or hardware store owner, not a monster at all. This had to be someone’s idea of a sick joke. Ashanti was not amused. He had a big test tomorrow. The beefy man whose name was Marty turned to the assembled teenagers.


“All right, shut the fuck up, you wild bunch of Indians you. It’s nigger training time.”

The high school boys let out a whoop. Ashanti was aghast at the disgusting name he had been called. He intended to go directly from this hazing or whatever it was to the police.

“Nigger boy, you’ve crossed over into a very dangerous territory here. One, we don’t cotton to niggers stinking up our college classrooms and dorms. Bad enough we got to allow a certain number in, but we don’t got to put up with uppity northern niggers who think they can compete with decent white boys. If you were studying manure shoveling or toilet cleaning, we might look the other way, at this, the ten white teenage boys laughed, “but you had to go and enroll in engineering school taking some white boy’s scholarship.”

“Look, I don’t know what business it is—”

 

Marty’s big beefy hand backhanded Ashanti across his handsome face sending the black boy down into the dirt and a whoop of victory up from the assembled kids.

 

“I’m making it my business, Coalcunt! Second, and worse, how dare you to think that you can shove that big, stinking, black, nigger prick of yours into a nice, white girl’s pussy around here? We lynch jigs for that kind of behavior. However, you’re one lucky nigger. We’re not going to kill you. No, you’re just going to wish you were dead. You see, this is a new day and age and these here teenage boys don’t know the proper way to treat a nigger boy. They ain’t had no real practical experience with darkies. Not in the proper relationship where the nigger is a slave to serve the white man, so I thought we would conduct a little class for them tonight and in the weeks to come. A little class in proper nigger training. You and I are going to work together. We’re gonna make a real fine team.”

 

Ashanti sat in the dirt in his underwear looking up at the man who was obviously insane, but how could ten normal, teenage boys go along with such a monstrous game?

 

“First thing, boys, is niggers are not human. It’s a mistake to treat them humanely. They’ll just take advantage. They are generally big, dumb, horse hung, pack animals that stink to high heaven and hate any kind of physical labor. Stand up spear chucker.”

 

Poor, sensitive, eighteen-year-old Ashanti rose to his broad, strong, naked feet. The night was well lit by a big silver moon, and the fear on his handsome black face was apparent.

 

“Shuck out of them clothes, nigger, and show the boys your freak of nature.”

 

“Look, if you think I’m—”

 

He was backhanded down into the dirt again and once again ordered to stand up and strip. It happened twice more. Marty was very patient. Finally, Ashanti knew he had no choice, so he slid his undershirt up over his muscular chest and off his strong black arms. He stood bare-chested dressed in only a pair of boxer shorts as the teenage boys gawked at him.

 

“You see, boys, if you strip a nigger, you put him in his rightful position, and the humiliation gets rid of some of that uppity quality I was speaking about. Stand up straight nigger, hands at your sides.”

 

Marty walked around Ashanti looking him over like a man might size up a horse he was about to buy. The gang of boys moved in closer.

 

“Now boys take a whiff, that’s nigger musk. You can smell it a mile away. This little pickininny is scared, so scared that he sweating up a good nigger stink. He’s so scared, he’s about to piss his pants. See the sweat dripping from his pits. Look at these here nigger nipples. These big purple nubs.”

 

Ashanti had a well-defined, hairless chest with two large nipples. Marty now grabbed one of the boy tits.

 

“These nipples are more rubbery than white tit. They stretch real fine. Look how they puff up and elongate when I pull on ‘em. By the time we get rough with this boy, not only will he know his place in society, but shit, he’ll have nipples like sow tits. These babies will stand out two inches permanently and so swollen and stretched that our boy here won’t be able to ever wear a shirt without being in pain.”

 

Marty held Ashanti’s face in one large hand. He brazenly shoved a thick finger between the boy’s full, handsome lips and poked around in his mouth.

 

“We also got to do something about this here pretty face. Niggers ain’t meant to have pretty faces. It makes them think they can fuck white girls. You think you can fuck a white girl, boy? You get all dick drippy thinking about white pussy?”

 

Some of the teenage boys gathered around were getting all dick drippy themselves. More than one fifteen-year-old boy sported a big old, adolescent boner in his baggy jeans. Violence and talk of sex, what better stimulant is there for a teenage boy? Ashanti felt the evil and decided he had to make a break for it, so he shoved Marty back and dressed only in his blue cotton boxer shorts that showed off his well-developed, high, tight ass, he turned and ran out into the moon-splashed field. The boys were after him as if he was the prey in a foxhunt. Yelping and laughing ten teenagers chased the eighteen-year-old, black, college boy. The rocks in the field cut at his feet. His fear pushed him on, but his running was frantic and not controlled. The boys behind him ran as if they hadn’t a worry in the world.

 

And for a good reason, suddenly, in front of Ashanti, a bank of lights blinded him. Six cars lined up in a row lit the field like a football stadium catching the almost naked black man in the glare. Ashanti stopped frozen with dread. There were more teenagers in front of him, a dozen more at least. He was trapped. Marty took his time walking up to him, the hand swung again, and Ashanti fell to the grass this time with a bloody lip.

 

“You’ll be punished for that, nigger. Just shows how bad you need training. Now stand up and strip off your underpants.”

 

“Yeah,” one fifteen-year-old, sandy-haired punk whispered while groping at his own stiff prick.

 

With shaking hands, Ashanti slid his fingers beneath the waistband of his shorts and peeled them down. There were hoots of appreciation, and some whistles of awe, as his humongous, black penis was displayed. Ashanti had one prize-winning nigger cock hanging seven inches flaccid, thick as a beer can. Shit, the girls he’d fucked could hardly take it, but once he’d fucked them, addicted to his big, black dick, they came back for more. Behind it and hanging just as low were two lemon-sized balls in a thick, fleshy sack. He was indeed a well-hung boy. He knew it too. He had always gotten not only looks but often offers in the locker room. Even straight guys wanted to handle his prick. Ashanti who was one hundred percent straight had always refused. Now, he stood bare-assed and humble before his enemies. He felt just awful that all these boys and that man were looking at his cock and balls.

 

“Niggers should be kept naked most of the time that way if they need reprimanding you can just take a swipe at their fat pricks and balls.”

 

Marty lashed out with a stick he was carrying and whacked Ashanti right in his crotch, the stick cut across his fat cock and struck the balls as well. Ashanti crumpled in the grass. The boys at the cars cheered.

 

“In fact, when a nigger needs punishment, say he ain’t shined your shoes right or cleaned the toilets spic and span, or licked your dirty asshole for you, then a good way to show him what’s what is to have him throw his big, black legs up over his head. Come on, boy, roll over and show these boys, get that ass in the air, get those legs back over your head. Now you see his ass, and his big, fat horse balls are an easy target for my stick. Now, I can really thwack those big black nuts.”

 

With that, he brought the stick down as hard as he could onto Ashanti’s ballbag. The boy screamed an unearthly animal-like cry of pain that woke the night and rattled the trees. He felt certain his balls must have burst as blinding pain shot through his body, into his legs, up into his chest, twisted around in his strong, muscled stomach, spread through his groin and ass, and he could actually feel it up in his throat. He rolled into a fetal position, and his antics got a round of applause from the teenage boys.

 

“Now, does one of you boys want to try it?”

 

All the boys threw their arm into the air, but Marty picked one strapping sixteen-year-old, who looked exceptionally muscular and farm reared. The boy had a wild mess of light brown hair falling all over his handsome face, and he grinned sheepishly when Marty handed him the switch. Taking advantage of his buddies encouragement, he set the stick down and peeled off his own sweaty tee shirt to reveal a really well-developed torso, sweat-slick and shining in the moonlight. His name was Billy, and he was the captain of the local high school football team. He was very popular and had already fucked sixty-two girls in his sixteen years. Eight inches of boy dick leaked and shoved at the blue denim of his pants. He picked up the switch.

 

“Here Billy, let me show you an alternate position you may prefer. Nigger, get on your back and pull your knees up to your chest move it, sambo. Stop crying, you big, black sissy. You’re nothing worse than a nigger faggot. Pull those legs up now, spread your knees as far as you can. Now, you see, you got a clean shot at them lemons and that fat dick right between his legs. Just haul off and let him have it. “

 

Ashanti whimpered then wailed as the husky teenager pulled back and with all of his might let go with a splat to the black boy’s cock and balls. Ashanti was sure he would die — a part of him wanted to die.

 

“Excellent, Billy, but you landed too much of the switch on the cunt’s stomach and hips. You want to only get the prick and balls, boy. Why not try ‘er again?”

 

Billy was only too happy to oblige. The other boys finally got to try also. Ashanti was a quivering mass of blubbering, raw, nigger meat lying on the grass more miserable than he ever imagined a human being could be. Next, Marty had the black boy crawl around to show the boys how niggers crawl better than they walk.

 

“Now, nigger, I already spoke to the boys in your college dorm who don’t like you any more than we do. We agreed it’s too late to take away your scholarship this year, but we can make damn sure you don’t wanna come back next semester, so we decided you are gonna finish out your first term but only as a lesson to all on how a nigger should be treated.

 

“When you’re in your dorm you will crawl at all times. We don’t wanna hear no reports of you ever walking unless you’re told to. You crawl right to the front door of that building, right in front of all the other students and then and only then you stand up. And then you strip bare-ass naked before you enter the building, you got that?”

 

Marty kicked Ashanti just hard enough, so the crawling boy’s big dick and balls swung very painful now that they were so bruised.

 

“You crawl with your legs wide apart so your big black balls and cock swing when you crawl. We want to see them swinging at all times. And, of course, you remain bare-ass naked in the dorm at all times. Oh yeah, we spoke to the custodian, and he will no longer clean the toilets on your dorm floor. That will be your job from now on. You will clean them every day with a toothbrush. The same toothbrush you use to clean your nigger teeth.”

 

Next, Marty had Ashanti lick the dusty, dirty shoes of all the boys present including the soles. The boys were indeed springing hard pricks now. Shit, this was more fun than fucking cunt.

 

“You address all white people as sir or ma’am from now on even a three-year-old boy We got a special uniform for you to wear to classes. You’ll see that when you get back to your dorm. Oh yeah, your roommate moved out saying he couldn’t stand your nigger smell. We had your bed removed so you can sleep on the floor like a good, little nigger. You’ll go to your classes and not tell anybody about this.

 

“Three nights a week you will report here for your nigger training. It’s gonna be a long semester jig. Oh and don’t think about quitting school or running away, you see we got your home address, and we know all about your sweet, little, nine-year-old brother. I’ll bet that nigger faggot bitch would just love to be fucked by twenty or thirty white dicks.”

 

Ashanti was sobbing, and his tears streaked his face before dripping down into the dry earth.

 

“When you are at school, your dorm buddies are your masters. You do everything they say. When you are out of school, any white person you meet is your master. When you are here, these boys and me, well, we are not only your masters but your teacher. We’re here to help you find your true self. Now, enough of that shoe licking. These are healthy teenage boys, and I bet they would love to have their dicks sucked!”

 

Ashanti howled and tried to crawl away, but he was thrown over onto his back One fifteen year old, who must have been excessively horny, shucked his clothes and the bare-naked teen straddled Ashanti’s chest his as his six-inch teen prick waved and spurted pre-fuck. He plunked himself down on the black boy’s chest and let his prick probe the boy’s face. It tracked sex slime all over Ashanti’s sobbing face.

 

“Marty, he won’t open his mouth to suck!” the boy complained.

 

“Well, you see in that case, you just have one of your buddies grab and twist his big balls like this.”

 

Marty twisted the boy’s balls Ashanti roared with pain.

 

“See that opens his mouth. Some niggers forget that cocksucking is one of the things God made them for. They’re natural born cocksuckers that’s why he gave them those big, thick lips. You suck that, boy, and you suck him good.”

 

“I never…I don’t know how. I…I…I can’t…”

 

The drooling teenage dickhead went into his mouth. His first taste of cock. It was dreadful. Fuck slime slid down his throat. He gagged as it spurted out of his nose. The boy rammed and jerked like a bunny fuck and shot off in fifteen seconds.

 

The boys cheered and another took his place. This was an older boy with a seven-inch cock who knew how to face fuck. At home, he face-fucked his little, seven-year-old brother every night. Of course, his family didn’t know. Shit, the kid was too young to have sex they would have said, but Tim had seen the hungry look in the little faggot’s eyes when he waltzed around the house buck naked when the parents were gone. Oh, the little fuckhole wanted it all right, and he got it good and regular now. The second dick rammed the black throat, Ashanti choked and sputtered as the fuck stick cut off his air. Tim grabbed his ears and face fucked the black boy as hard as he could.

 

That first night, Ashanti became a cumdump. Twenty-two boys shot loads of teen fuck down his throat. Halfway through they had to pound on his stomach to get him to puke up some of the fuck sauce. They fucked his face until he was a mindless mess of sperm, his nose and cheeks coated with white slime and his lips swollen and discolored from cocksucking. Finally, as dawn approached and each boy had shot off, they backed away into a circle around the moaning writhing body of the muscular, black boy on the grass.

 

Now, at a signal from Marty, they all took their wilted dicks in hands and pissed on the kid at the same time. Twenty-two sprays of boy piss splattered Ashanti’s naked body. When they were finished, Marty unzipped and hauled out his own thick fat prick. It was flaccid but a good six inches long. It grew to ten when he got excited but tonight was not for his personal enjoyment. Tonight was a vital teaching experience, it was a burdensome responsibility, for the young boys of his town. He squatted down over Ashanti and gently pried the boy’s mouth open. He stroked the smooth, wet, black, piss-drenched face and smiled.

 

“Almost finished for tonight boy, now keep that mouth open.”

 

Marty gently slid his fat fuck sausage between Ashanti’s lips, then with the cockhead inside of the boy’s mouth, he started to piss.

 

“Drink it down, boy. Come on, that’s white man’s piss. It’s good to the last drop. Now, listen up, nigger, you go back to your dorm you’ll find further instructions and such. You make sure you follow all the rules. We don’t wanna have to pay a visit to your little brother. You be back here Tuesday night at seven for your next class. Until then, you obey your dorm mates. Oh yeah, and work them nipples, I want to see them standing out on our next visit just like pencil erasers.”

 

Little did poor, battered, bruised Ashanti know, but this was the mildest abuse he would endure as a slave to the Ku Klux Klan leader and his teenage thugs. This horrendous night of torture was child play compared with what was to come.

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