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Introduction:

If you aren't into gay interracial rough and forced sex, move on.
I woke up with a fur-lined metal collar locked around my neck. My hands were free for all the good it did me – the collar was not too tight, and there was a chain of, ample length and the soft fur lining was, I suppose, a considerate touch, but I was chained in a room with, now that I noticed it, an array of hooks and unusually shaped furniture and what looked like a cross, and phallic sextoys (dildos in simpler terms) - I could move freely, but the collar and chain were steel and the chain was securely bolted to my collar and the wall – I wasn’t going anywhere past the length of the chain anytime soon.

there was what looked like a jail cell-style toilet, a drain in the center and sorta weirdly a king-sized four poster bed – quite feminine in its appearance: frilly and fluffy pink pillows and quilt

The last thing I remembered was smoking from a pipe with Danell and Donnell McPhillips ,twin brothers I knew from school. And drinking a coke they had told me had a little rum in it.

We had become friendly in a kind of a weird way. They were juniors and varsity football players -all conference running backs already being seriously recruited by Big 10 programs.

I was a freshman and not a fatty or unathletic I was actually planning to go out for baseball in the spring, but I didn’t have the size for football, although I liked it and on our neighborhood games Dannell and Darnell had picked me for their teams when he had played touch as younger kids in the neighborhood and had praised my hands catching passes in the games we usually won – it didn’t bother me at all that they had to take me to ‘even the sides’ since they were both so good, and since I was better than most guys thought we almost always won.

I guess that it also didn’t hurt that I didn’t have any reservations about them being black, while, although for the most part they kept it quiet, considering that the McPhillips twins were big enough to kick the ass of anybody in our neighborhood, a lot, even most, of the guys in our neighborhood did, and looked down on them racially. I don’t know how else to say it, but where we lived, a more or less exclusively white community, there was a quiet, politely expressed, racism, not inclined to lynchings or cross-burnings, but to more subtle expressions of if not exactly racism, then at least racial contempt.

Let my just put it this way – I knew a lot of guys, and some chicks too, who would not have dared to call them niggers to their faces, but frequently and enthusiastically did behind their backs. I got called nigger-lover plenty, since, because, while with our age difference, me being so much younger, I couldn’t really call them friends, I did respect and admire them and felt friendly toward them, being welcome in their home, which was just around the corner from my own and strongly considered them to be good guys.

Anyway, that is how I, a white boy, came to be so well-acquainted and friendly with two older, more athletic black guys living, somewhat anonymously in the virtually all-white neighborhood I grew up in.

After what seemed like hours, but probably was not that long, a black guy I had never seen before came in,, his face looked similar to Dannell’s and Darnell’s but older, not as lean and, for lack of a better word, harder.

I need to admit – he had a half a foot and at least 60 pounds on me, so I did not John Wayne it and get all macho with him, although I suppose I could have struggled, I didn’t see much future in trying that anyway, since, near the collection of dildos, I saw shackles, manacles, and handcuffs, but I did manage to demand ‘who are you?’

The portly man made a strange facial expression that combined amusement, aggression, and lust “you can call me ‘Master’ and the more you sound like a little girl who believes and enjoys that, the better for you.”

I had no idea what he was talking about and thought he was crazy or drunk or stoned. “What the fuck?”

It was then, when, without a word he grabbed me roughly and threw me down on the floor that I realized I was naked too. “Ok, white boy, do you want to try to get me wet by sucking on my cock first or do you want to take it up the ass dry right away?”

“What the fuck?” I repeated.

“Ass or throat, bitch?” He growled, “which one do you want, or I should really say ‘need’ first?”

“What are you nuts?” I was disoriented, but starting to snap out of it, and now that I was catching on to the basic situation, I would be lying if I didn’t admit I was intimidated and frightened. More, and a little oddly, now that I realized I was naked, I started feeling chilled and began shivering and also trembling a little from a fear adrenaline rush.

“You can suck my nuts later,” that menacing expression of sexual menace and violence flashed across his face again, “you can pet and kiss and lick them too, later, white bitch boy, since I know you will want to, but right now you are going to suck my dick or take it up the ass dry, but you are going to do it RIGHT NOW!”

Here I have a confession to make, or a lot of what follows might not make any sense at all. After I had learned enough anatomy to know the basics of fucking penetration but not enough to know about subtleties, like clitorises, g-spots, and lubrication, I was curious enough about what fucking felt like to a girl that I had tried broom handles in my ass. The ordinary broom handle was a little bit of a jolt but I need to admit. Felt good enough that I did it more than once, and learned a valuable lesson about clean up. Not too long after, I noticed my grampa’s big plow shovel had a thick knob at the end instead of just a thin handle. Realizing that an ordinary broom handle was thinner than even my modest little white boy peter, so once I saw it I wanted to and did try it – learning a sharp and very valuable lesson about lubrication the first time I poked myself with it.

But the first time I used some vaseline to slide it in, I was hooked. The thick knob prevented my sphincter from expelling it, so I could lie back and not worry about needing a wall to push against and the orgasm I got from doing it was one of the most intense I had ever had up to that time. Eventually I found KY jell which made clean-up faster. I did worry about splinters a little, but gratefully I never experienced any.

Some years later I read about a somewhat militant feminist who was fond of asserting that males should not be permitted to penetrate a vagina until they had had a broom handle shoved up the ass. Well, if that is a valid requirement, I am among the most qualified males on the planet. And quite happily so, I suppose I need to confess.

Based on my masturbatory experiences with the shovel handle I was sure I could take it up the ass more or less without too much pain if I could get him lubricated, but I had never had one in my mouth before, although I need to confess, I had wrapped my mouth around the shovel handle once experimentally, but since that didn’t have nearly as pleasurable an effect as using it in my ass and tasted like wood I never repeated the experience. I had tried with carrots, but the shape was so unrealistic it was no fun. I had thought about getting a thick soup carrot and carving it into shape but never had done it.

“Well, what’s it gonna be bitch? I ain’t waitin’ all night?”

Stammering, I weakly mumbled “mouth…”

He caught me completely by surprise by exploding angrily in my direction and slapping my face hard with a big, rough-skinned calloused hand, almost knocking me down and jarring me as if I had been hit with a thrown brick.

“I told you to call me ‘Master’ you little bitch!” he roared.

“What?” I stammered. All that got me was the other hand on the other side of my face.

I just stared at him, not wanting to risk another blow by opening my mouth, but my face was reddening with a mix of anger and shame. If I was honest with myself, I had fantasized about having Dannell and Donnell spit roast me some day – based on my experiences with the shovel handle I had creamed my sheets more than once to that fantasy. But this was different, I hadn’t worked out how I could ever possibly broach the topic with them, but since the time I had seen them in the shower at the community pool… well did I mention they were both well, even extremely well-hung? But not having them rape me. I had never worked out how I was ever going to get around to or get up the nerve to bring it up with them, though I was convinced they had seen me eyeing both their dicks and at the time I had been a little afraid that I might get a boner in front of them.

But however sketchy and unclear my plan was, my fantasy didn’t include them slapping me around and forcing me.

“I’m losing my patience, bitch,” he growled again. What is it gonna be, and beg me for it the way I told you!”

“I would like to suck your dick, please, Master.” I managed, a little worried that I had not begged enough, so I added, “pretty, pretty please?”

Luckily I still had enough of my wits about me to remember that he had already said he was intending to use both my ass and my mouth and recall the first time I had had to wipe shit off my shovel handle dildo so I added quickly. “But I need to use the toilet first, please…” quickly adding “Master.” As I saw him slowly stat to raise his hand again.

“Maybe you are a smarter little bitch than I thought.” By all means you little pussy, take a dump first.”

“Thank you.” Another slap, this one staggering me and opening a bleeding cut on my lip.

“Master, “ I quickly added.

“Ok, pussy slut, use the can and do it fast and wipe good.”

After I used the prison style stainless steel coverless commode to take a dump, trying to squeeze as much out as I could, until he started to step toward me growling – “quit stalling you pussy, get over here and suck.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good bitch, you are catching on now get over here and get to work, but first, ask me again, real sweet to let you suck my big black cock.”

I didn’t take any chances. “Master, may I please suck you?”

“Yeah you little bitch faggot, you can suck my dick and you fuckin’ better do a good job.” “And that means swallowing my load.” He added with the same enigmatically threatening expression he had used on me at the start. “And I don’t want to feel any goddam teeth!”

He motioned me to kneel down in front of him and undid his pants and boxers and dropped them – he was big but not fully erect yet, not as big as Dannell and Darnell, but a LOT bigger then me or most guys I had seen in gym class or at the pool.

“Suck bitch!” I did. I worried about the teeth, But I took it in my mouth and sucked. As soon as I got the big head in, which I suppose I should not admit tasted and felt better than I had expected, he grabbed my head and poked to the back of my throat I couldn’t help but graze it with my teeth, which earned me a clout on the head, and a warning: “Pussy bitch boy, if I feel your teeth again, I will knock them out” and started to gag, to which he added, “and don’t puke on my big beautiful black prick or I will blacken both your eyes “ So with some effort I managed to choke down my gorge, after a few moments, I actually started to get the hang of it and was able to breath even though he was way down my throat and I had to suppress gagging, but I was able to do it.

“You suck at sucking, bitch boi, but you have potential, but you forgot to tell me you understood and will obey about the teeth,” which he punctuated with a light slap of my right cheek.” I started to pull my self off of his now quite big and firm and if I am honest, nice dick, which I actually was enjoying sucking, though it was making me ashamed to consider it, but he grabbed me with both hands, forcing me back down and added, “stay on the cock you little sissy faggot, you can just grunt while you are sucking, understand?”

So I did, I tried to say ‘Yes, Master’ which came out sounding like ‘eth affer’ but mollified him, since he didn’t smack me again, which, even if it makes you think I am a sissy faggot, I was grateful for, since I really didn’t want to keep getting clubbed with those big hands.

“That’s not totally terrible, bitch, now give my dick some love, kiss and lick it up and down and make think you love it.”

“Ynn, Mfffr.” I managed as I backed off of it, kissing and licking it was a lot better than choking on it, and, given my fantasies, despite the circumstances, to some extent, fun, after a while I was enjoying doing what I had, after all, fantasized about more than once, though, certainly under more enjoyable circumstances.

Without warning, he thrust back down my throat, gagging me again, but I managed to keep it down.

“Ok, bitch, not bad, but I want some pussy.”

“Yes, Master.” I was learning. And based on what I already knew I enjoyed, I figured I was pretty much home free now.

Happily he was not much wider than the handle I was used to, but the thickness was not just a knob, it was a long length which, if anything was better than what I was used to, but he was not as gentle as I was with myself, so there was a jolt, but I must confess after the initial stab, I actually liked the sensation, I didn’t like being forced and bullied, but getting the big back dick part was fine. I know that isn’t politically correct and I don’t mean that women who are being raped should ‘try to enjoy it’ like a lot of assholes say but I was trying to make the best of it.

The only negative thing was that, when I knobbed myself I was always stroking myself to climax, and in this case, he was holding me down by the wrists while he held my legs up and pounding me as furiously as he could, all the while braying “you like it bitch? Tell me you love it!” To which I was afraid not to answer with, “Yes, Master, I like it, I love your big black dick in my ass, I love the way you are railing me.”

That seemed to mollify him, when eventually he pulled out and creamed me on the face with three big ropes of hot spunk.

“That was not bad, bitch. I’m gonna go get something to eat and a beer, do you want something?”

By now I knew enough to say “thank you, Master, I’m glad you liked it.”

“Good, bitch, next time I might let you beat yourself off.”

And with that he left.
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