PROFESSOR MASONS MESS,
OR, A SWEET DARK PUSSY

by DannyR (MMMM/bbb, incest, oral, anal, piss, racial epithets, extreme pedo)
Copyright 2011.  All rights reserved.

Authors Reminder:  Dont forget that inquiring authors want to know -- what did you think?  So when youre done, put your fingers to a  dried-off, cleaned-up keyboard and start by typing:  dr_harris_81@hotmail.com.

DISCLAIMER:  Some folks apparently have trouble distinguishing between fantasy and reality.  This story is a fantasy.  It didnt happen.  Never will.  And anyone who attempts to do in real life all or any of the things depicted in the story needs to be hanged, then drawn and quartered, and then turned over to the cops for the harshest penalties the law allows. After that, well, hopefully everything Law and Order and the news say is true about child molesters in prison, is really true.  Now that were clear on whats what, and whats not, read on.

SPECIAL NOTE:  Praise his pedo Name!  All hail TAP, whose depraved ideas just seem to resonate and spawn more depravity in my story-telling cock and typing fingers.

PROFESSOR MASONS MESS

Chapter 2

The professor unzipped, fought with his inexplicably stiff again cock to get it out, mentally said fuck it! before undoing his buckle and his pants, lifting his hips, and shoving his slacks down to his knees, leaned forward, shoved again, and they slithered to his ankles. He spread his legs wide, being careful not to bump the cop, and started jacking with both hands wrapped around his cock. His favorite way to stroke.

Just one hand, boy. Use the other to play with your cunt.

He slouched a little in the seat, awkwardly working his left hand down and under and got a finger into his hot slick hole. He jacked with his right. Licked his lips. Thought back. Remembered things he hadnt thought of in years. Hell, fucking decades since hed even been aware this shit had happened to him. Began to speak.

He told the cop about his daddy.  Tyrone. Stopped, shook his head, wondering how the memory could be right when he knew, he fucking knew his father was Robert Mason, earlier a professor at the University of San Diego, now a dean at UCLA.  Shook his head again.  Resumed talking about the memories that said his daddy, his seed daddy, was a lazy rural nigger with no education, no drive, nothing to get by on but a big dick that the nigger bitches and the white housewives loved. But they all knew he wasnt a stick around guy, and he didnt fuck a bitch except bare, so it was up to them to keep from having his kids. The professor was one nigger hos mistake, and shed cleared that mistake up by getting the fuck out of town six months after the boy was born.

The professor had later learned that the night his mama left, his daddy was horny, his baby son was crying, so he shut him up with daddy meat, pumping his cock right handed, holding the boys head in place with his left, and shoving as much of the knob into the tiny mouth as he could as he spewed his daddy juices and bred his own six month old baby boys throat.  Not that he had any actual memories of that night.  Or all the nights after. Days, too. Whenever his daddy got stiff he used his baby boys mouth, eventually, over the next year, getting not only the head but several inches of nigger daddy dick into his well-trained slut throat.

Then Tyrone got caught.  Fortunately, it wasnt by the cops, who would have beat the shit out of him, even if it was just a nigger brat that was getting molested.  Fortunately, it wasnt one of the do-gooders from the frigging AME church in town, come to check up on the welfare of the poor little darling and his wicked usually drunk daddy.  He ran errands for the local liquor store and they paid him in booze more often than not. He got food from the market and milk and baby shit for the boy doing chores and errands, because he was a fairly big and strong nigger, good for occasional hard work, though shiftless most of the time.

Unfortunately, it was his uncles that caught his daddy. Tyrones brothers, Uncle Jethro, ten years older than daddy, and Uncle Leroy, fifteen years older, just walked in one day and there was their baby brother, stretched out on the couch on his back, his pants around his ankles, his legs over the end, while their naked baby nephew, just barely fifteen months old, was laying on his daddys hairy belly, sucking on his daddys dick, while daddy had two fingers in his babys fat little behind.

They werent outraged, or even surprised. After all, their daddy, Dwayne (pronounced DEE-wayne thank you very much) Cash, had done the same to them, turning  Leroys shitter into a kiddy cunt when the boy was only two, and then starting in on Jethro when he was just past a year. And then when Tyrone came along, a late surprise since the ho grampa Dwayne had been fucking had assured him she was on the pill, the fucking bastard wouldnt let his older sons join in the fuck fun until Tyrone was five.  On his fifth birthday, though, grampa Dwayne, Jethro and Leroy had each taken turns fucking their littlest sons, little brothers cunts, ignoring his wailing and his struggles as he got his first family gangbang. All three of grampa Dwaynes cums were in his youngest sons pussy. Jethro fucked Tyrones throat twice and his cunt once.  Leroy spooged the boys abused and sloppy hole twice and his aching, sore mouth once.

After that, grampa Dwayne and Tyrones older brothers molested little Tyrone regularly, using his mouth and pussy whenever they were in the mood, teaching him to swallow their rancid smelling piss and eat out their raunchy pits and holes.  Whored him out, too, to the occasional local white, and to white guys passing through town. Sometimes in the rest stop toilet out on the highway, but sometimes theyd haul his fat-bottomed nigger ass into Jacks, a kind of dimly lit sleazy bar that had a reputation among white travelers for the kinky shit they could get into...for the right price.  

But then, little Tyrone got himself all growed up, with thick, wiry pubes, and long, thick pit hair, and all growed up balls that pumped out cum, which meant grampa Dwayne and Uncle Jethro and Uncle Leroy had to stop fucking Tyrones cunts, because that was a queer thing to do and they werent no queers.  Truth be told, Tyrone wasnt all that happy about having to switch to female pussy, since he pretty much liked being fucked, but hell, that werent nothing he could tell no one. Though the family figured it out, what with the sheriff and all.  But that was later.

The women in the rural poor-as-fuck Louisiana county, though, fuckin hos all of them, liked Tyrones big fat nigger dick pumpin their holes, so Tyrone drank, and fucked, and worked when he had to, and drank and fucked some more until the fuckin bitch cunt slut did to him what that other ho had done to Grampa Dwayne. Fucked his life over by getting pregnant. Then the bitch gave him a boy, which sure the fuck pleased him since hed have him a baby boy cunt to use just the way Grampa Dwayne used to do to him. Only the bitch kept so close around the boy, who she named Lamar after her daddy, that he never got a chance to use his own kids baby mouth. Or start trying to loosen up his bottom hole just like Grampa Dwayne did.

Then the bitch ho came home early and found Tyrone with a thick hairy finger almost all the way up little Lamars shitter, while he rubbed his nigger daddy meat all over the boys face, and down his fat little body with its fat little titties to the baby hardon standing up tall. The bitch protested, the bitch got bitch-slapped, then punched around a bit until the bitch understood what would happen if she opened her mouth. The bitch got the fuck out of Dodge that night.

That left Tyrone with a crying baby, and a hurting hardon, and the obvious solution.

The professor kept stroking his meat, which was slimy with thick precum. His Uncle Jethro had told him all that shit about his daddy.  Thats what he had to call him.  Daddy Cash. To distinguish him from Grampa Cash, and Grampa Hall, little Lamars mamas daddy, who liked him some boy pussy real fine, too.  While he wouldnt turn down the real young stuff, and fuck knows he didnt, his preferred age for boy sluts was around seven or eight.

So on Lamars seventh birthday Daddy Cash took little Lamar over to Grampa Hall for a real deep fucking by the big-bellied, white-haired old nigger. And drinking down the piss hed been saving up.  Then Daddy Cash and Uncle Jethro and Uncle Leroy took him over to Jacks to see if they could whore him out. Might as well make the boy useful on his birthday.

The professor told the cop how the sheriff had been there that night when they brought  him in, all seven years of him, wearing raggedy cut-off jeans shorts and nothing else, his plump titties sticking out almost a half inch, since Daddy Cash and his uncles had been working on stretching them almost since he was born.  His titties were already bruised, since Grampa Hall liked hurting them. And then Daddy Cash and his brothers had been working on the little Lamar in the alley before they brought him inside.  Sheriff just nodded and saluted them with a beer, ignoring all the state and local laws being broken by bringing a little boy into a tavern. After all, he was paid enough to look the other way, both in cash, and from what the Cash family had heard, the occasional little girl cunt, too.

Jacks was still as sleazy as it had been when Grampa Dwayne had pimped out Daddy Cash from there as a little boy. Jack himself was still as sleazy, too. Older, of course, fuck, he was well past sixty by then, balding so he kept his hair almost shaved, scraggly grey mustache, plump little belly on his skinny frame. Still showing a heft piece of meat down his right leg in the tight jeans. He was behind the bar and his eyes lit up when he saw the nigger family coming through the back hall.

Theyd seen the big fucking Lincoln Town Car out front, black and probably shiny most of the time but kind of dusty from driving, and there sure as fuck wasnt anyone in those parts drove a car like that.  That meant rich and most likely white, who was in town for some nigger meat, which is why they went around back where it was dimly lit so they could get rid of Lamars tee, and play with his dickie, and plump up his titties. White men into niggers paid well for men, but they sure as fuck paid a lot more for nigger boy cunt.

Jack nodded twice to Tyrone and tilted his head just slightly to the old white man.  The first nod meant Jack had seen the mans wallet and there was plenty of fucking money in it. The second nod meant Jack had triedunsuccessfullyto interest the man in any of the adult hos (he called them exotic dancers, though there wasnt anything exotic about their tired routines) or little girls that Jack had in his stable.

Jack was disappointed, of course, since he kept virtually all of the money his whores, old and young, earned. But he still got a percentage of what the Cash family brought in. Lots of white men were willing to pay good money to have one, two or three big nigger dicks fuck them, in either or both holes, sometimes in the bar toilet, sometimes out in the alley, once in a while in the motel on the edge of town. Hell, Leroy at fourteen, before Tyrone was born, had been known to still suck a mean dick if the price was right. After all, it wasnt as if he was queer or anything, he was just gay for pay like in the movies hed heard about. Which was pretty much the way each of the Cash men felt when they were down on their knees sucking white meat, or swallowing down a white mans piss, or giving up their asses. A man has to do what a man has to do to get him some money, even if that meant getting dicked.

Tyrone lifted Lamar and plopped him down on the bar stool right next to the old man.  The boy knew what he was supposed to do, and did it.  He spread his legs, tugged the loose left leg of his shorts up, and started playing with his nigger boy stiffie.  All four plump little inches of it. The old man gulped and licked his lips. He had, of course, been watching, not at all surreptitiously, when three fine nigger men walked in, not just brothas, but brothers. The oldest was in his mid to late forties, the next looked to be about five or six years younger, and the youngest was in his early thirties, or so. The old man was a nigger connoisseur, not one of the dumb shits who thought all niggers looked alike.  He saw the clear family resemblance.

But his mouth had dropped open when he saw what was with them.  And what was with them was now on the stool next to him, blatantly playing with his stiffie.  The old mans hole twitched, his mouth watered, and his dick surged to a full hardon. He naturally recognized the signs of availability, fuck, hed have to be blind and stupid not to know the three niggers were pimping out the little nigglet when the kid was jacking off on a bar stool, but as horny as he was, there was just one little problem. There was a fucking sheriff in the room, guzzling beer. Without saying anything, the old man kind of stretched his back, tossed back the remainder of his whiskey rocks, waved the glass to Jack for another, swiveled on the stool to face the little stiff nigglet, and spread his legs to display a pretty nice piece of meat...for an old, white man. He didnt grope himself, though, just put his hand on his thigh, just under the stiff cock raising his slacks down his right thigh.

The old man raised his eyes from the boys hardon, paused at the big nigger meat showing on the man standing next to the boy, reached the kind of thuggish, Christ what a fucking turn on, face, and slanted a glance that indicated the sheriff at the table behind him, raised an eyebrow.

Daddy Cash had the solution to that. Not a happy solution, since he begrudged the percentage he had to give Jack, but knew that was safer than loitering around outside trying to score. There was that whole nigger-thugs-in-the-alley-gonna-beat-and-rob-me thing whites had going on when they tried outside, but they were more relaxed when approached inside.  And since the sheriff was here, that meant the same percentage going out to him, so a grand fucking total of forty percent gone. He also didnt dare fuck with the facts, either, like claiming he only got twenty bucks when hed been paid forty.

Daddy Cash winced inside at the memory.  Hed done that once, just fucking once, about ten years earlier. A pretty hot white guy, maybe forty to his twenty-three, had picked him up at the bar and wanted to rent a motel room. The sheriff had been standing at the end of the bar, so the white guy tried to be subtle about it, asking Tyrone to wait a few minutes before coming over to the motel so no one would know what was going on.

What went on was that the white guy wanted to be fucked and fucked hard, first in his cunt and then his mouth. Daddy Cash had certainly obliged. So much so that when the guy was laying on the bed, exhausted from his own three cums, once while being mouth fucked, twice when his cunt was full of long fat nigger daddy dick, hed finally got himself under control, and instead of the fifty theyd agreed on, gave him two fifties. First fucking hundred dollars Tyrone had ever earned.

He got dressed and left and then got really, really, really fucking stupid in the head.  The sheriff was waiting, just leaning against his cruiser, and when he asked, How much? the answer was Fifty.  

The sheriff raised an eyebrow. How many times you fuck him? Mouth or cunt?

Uh, three.

He only gave you fifty for three fucks from your big ol nigger dick? The sheriff hadnt ever seen Tyrones meat, well, not hard, hed seen it once when they were both side by side in the toilet at the bar, pissing into the trough. But that gave him a pretty fair idea.

Yeah. Tyrone was confident. One fifty was in his shirt pocket. The other was folded up real tiny, shoved down in his sock. Sheriff wasnt gonna strip search him out here in a motel parking lot, and he certainly wasnt gonna go to the white guy and ask how much he paid for nigger meat.

Except the fucking sheriff did.

He grabbed Daddy Cash by the collar, which Daddy Cash fucking resented the hell out of, but knew better than to object, and hauled his ass, along with the rest of him, back to the motel door, where he proceeded to pound the shit out of it, yelling, Police. Open the goddamned fuck up!

Not surprisingly, no one from the motel office came out to see what was happening, and neither did anyone in the three other rooms with cars parked in front of them. Equally not surprisingly, the door opened fairly quickly to reveal the white man in tee and boxers, his hair a mess as if hed just gotten up from a deep sleep or had just had the shit fucked out of him.  Three times.

Get back inside, sir, the sheriff said, and the man obeyed unthinkingly.

The sheriff shoved Daddy Cash inside, stepped in himself, and shut the door.  Sit.  The white man sat on the edge of the definitely more-than-sleeping-going-on-here rumpled bed.

Sir, did you just pay this nigger here to fuck your white pussy?

The sheriffs voice was so matter-of-fact, so cop-speak official that it took a moment for the actual words to register. The white man blanched, gasped, and started to lie. The sheriff just held up his free hand and stopped the about-to-be-blurted words.  Sir, I dont give a flying fuck whether you like cock or real pussy, and certainly dont give a shit about whats been up your ass or down your throat.  You arent in trouble. This nigger may be, however, if he whored himself out to you.

The white man relaxed, the terror in his expression fading. A beginning to be royally pissed look replaced it.  Yes, sheriff, he did whore himself.

The sheriff nodded thoughtfully, glad that his fine detective work had proved correct. How much did you pay him, sir?

Well, he, ah, he fucked my ass twice and my mouth once. So at fifty per, that was a hundred fifty.

The white man looked blandly at Daddy Cash, who blurted, You didnt pay me no one fifty.  It was just a hunnerd. He froze, and looked at the sheriff.

The white man just grinned.  Ah, yes, thats right, sheriff. Im sorry, I misspoke.  I had intended to give him one fifty but he left before I found the rest of the cash.

The sheriff nodded, shoved Daddy Cash over toward a chair.  Thank you, sir, I appreciate the information. Ah, would you mind, sir, if I, ah, used this room for a while to, ah, discuss matters with the nigger here?

Not at all, sheriff.

So fucking polite. The white man obviously had no luggage, so he just dragged his clothes on, stuffed bare feet in his shoes, made sure he had everything and bolted out the door. The sheriff locked it behind him. He wiggled his fingers at Daddy Cash, who sighed and gave it up.  First the fifty from his pocket, then he dug around in his sock to find the folded fifty, and handed it over, too.

The sheriff tucked both bills in his shirt pocket.  Strip, nigger.

Tyrones jaw dropped. He almost objected, but the stupid that had kicked in earlier had all leaked out, leaving just the do what you have to do to get out of this behind. He stripped.  Stood there, long and thick and soft. His hand twitched like he was going to cover up his dick and balls but he didnt.

All fours on the bed, nigger.

Daddy Cash managed to prevent the jaw dropping this time.  The sheriff had never fucked with any of the men and boys in town, or passing through. What the fuck?

When Daddy Cash was in place, the sheriff came up and stood to the niggers left, looked down at the tan soles of the large feet hanging over the edge of the bed.

Now, nigger, heres the way its gonna be.  You gotta be punished, boy, because I dont allow no fuckin nigger to disrespect me in my fuckin county. And it dont make me no never mind that nobody elsed ever know about it.  I sure the fuck know.  So what I figure is this, you owe me n Jack sixty bucks because you were gonna get paid one fifty but were too stupid to stick around to collect.

The sheriffs tone told Daddy Cash that he knew the white man had lied but didnt give a fuck.  Now the other forty, well, I figure that oughta be a gift to Jack n me, sort of like an apology for lying n being a stupid nigger, even though Jack n me both know you cant help either one, seein as how you are a stupid nigger.  That okay with you, boy?

Daddy Cash knew the expected answer.  Yassuh.

Good, good.  Now that takes care of the finances. But still, you damaged my pride, boy. Gotta pay for that.  So heres the fuckin deal.  I can haul your ass into jail tonight and charge you with bein a fuckin nigger whore in a clean, virtuous, family town; let everyone know youre some kinda fag who sells himself to whites; let Judge Biggs throw your fuckin nigger ass into jail for a year....

Daddy Cash barely managed to get the expected Or? out to fill the pause.

Or you take the rest of your punishment right here, right fuckin now. n we forget all about this shit.  Unless, of course, youre a dumb enough nigger fuckwad to try this shit on me again.

Nossuh.

Good boy.  The sheriff sounded almost like he was praising a dog.  Which, in a way, he was.  You got a choice, n you only get tmake it now. You want somethin in your mouth, like them dirty boxers of yours, or you just wanna be able to scream if you want to?

Daddy Cash looked over his shoulder.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  The sheriff had pulled off his wide black leather belt, folded it in half.  Well, fuck, his own daddy had spanked him and he took it like a man. He could do this, too.  He turned his head back, not realizing that stupid had kicked in again when he said, Dont need nuthin, sheriff. Aint gonna scream.

That brag began to unravel just five strokes later when he whimpered. By ten his ass was on fire, and he began to beg, only to be told to spread his fucking nigger legs. The next ten strokes were on the backs of his thighs, and two strokes slammed into balls that were unsuccessfully trying to pull up and out of the way, but they were big in a long sack. Nothing his daddy had ever done to him, nothing in his life had given him this kind of pain.  By the twenty-fifth hit he could feel the heat on his back, his butt, his legs, his balls and he was howling his agony, tears streaming down his face, begging the sheriff to stop, promising anything, anything at all, if hed only stop.

The beating stopped.  The only sound in the room was his ragged breathing, the gasps for air through a throat that was raw with his cries.

Anything, nigger?

Y...y...yassuh.

Fuck your nigger ass n make you my bitch?

No! I aint yo.... And he screamed again, louder, longer, as the belt slashed the soles of his feet.  Over and over and over again.

Beg me, nigger.

Daddy Cash shivered.  He was a man, a straight man.  Yeah, he sucked dick once in a while but that was cause he was paid good for it.  Werent nothin wrong with suckin dick when you needed money.  But only fags got fucked.  Only sissies begged to have their man cunts filled with cock. Except if he didnt, the sheriff would probably just fucking beat him to death. No choice.

Puh...please, massa, fuck me.

Tell me where, boy.

Ah, oh Christ, in mah fuckin pussy, sir.

Think I oughta loosen up that nigger cunt with my nightstick first?

Daddy Cash looked over his shoulder.  The sheriffs long fat cock, nowhere near as long and as fat as the niggers but white, which was all the difference, was standing straight from his unzipped fly. The gnarled nightstick was standing straight out, too.  Definitely longer and thicker than the nigger meat that was dangling softly between the welted, bruised, wide-spread legs. The slump in Tyrones shoulders told both of them that hed given up.

Get your pussy wet, nigger, cause otherwise you gettin fucked raw n dry.

Daddy Cash slobbered and slurped on his fingers, getting them slimy with spit, reached between his legs and worked his new found pussy lips. Then he did it again, and again, trying to work the juice inside, knowing he was running out of time. And he had. The sheriff slapped his fingering hand away, seated the wide flat end and them rammed the first six or so inches straight inside.  Daddy tried to howl again at the knife pain ripping his insides, but his screaming voice was gone.

All that was left was tears and agony as the sheriff worked himself up to a nice rhythm that had eight or nine inches of ridged nightstick fucking in and out of Tyrones torn up cunt, a hole that hadnt been fucked in so long it was almost virgin.  And slowly, very slowly, Daddy Cashs nigger meat got hard again, just like it had all those years ago when he was little and his grampa had fucked his bitty boy baby cunt.

The sheriff yanked the nightstick out, dropped it, looked at the slightly bleeding hole, nudged the gaping opening with his cock, whispered, Tell me, nigger, tell me what you are, what you want.  

I...Ise yo nigga, boss.  Yo pussy ho.  I want yo big ol white dick in mah cunt.

The sheriff gave it to him, shoving his meat balls deep into the wet nigger cunt.  Every thrust was another fucking nail in the coffin of Daddy Cashs manhood.  He was bein fucked up the ass, no, he was being fucked in his cunt, cause only fags got fucked, only queers got they dicks hard when white meat was working they holes, just like Daddy Cashs meat. He came after only a few minutes of sheriff fuck, wanted desperately to stop, but the stupid was all gone, pretty much forever when it came to the sheriff, so he just took it as the sheriff fucked and fucked and fucked and fucked, working that little bump inside his cunt until he got hard again and came again, spewing scum on the sheets, and finally, finally!  the sheriff grunted and filled Tyrones hole with a white mans spooge.

When he was done, he pulled his sagging, slimy, bloody cock out of his well-fucked nigger, told him to turn around, and clean up his owners filthy white meat.  As Daddy Cash obeyed, the sheriff grabbed up the belt and for the hell of it slashed another welt onto daddys ass.  Youre mine, you fuckin nigger scumbag. I own you, mothafucka.  You go struttin around town like always, bein this big ol nigger buck, but now you know and I know you aint no buck, youre just another fuckin fag. My fag.

He pulled the niggers mouth off his clean white cock, and with a cruel grip lifted the niggers head to look up.  The nigger wisely kept his eyes averted.  You got me, boy?

Yassuh.

Then get your slimy nigger cunt outa my sight.

Tyrone crawled off the bed, tried to stand, staggered, managed to get control of his legs though his butt and balls and thighs screamed with a world of hurt. Fuck, even clothes hurt but he sure the fuck couldnt leave the motel naked.  He got dressed, lurched over to the door, put his hand on the knob.

Oh, one other thing, nigger.  Whenever Jack whores you and your brothers out, whether Im there or not, I get my share.  Your job is to be sure I get every cent, cause you fuckin know whatll happen to you if I dont.  And I think when you get whored out, my shares gonna be another ten percent now.

Thoroughly defeated, Daddy Cash slunk out of the motel and walked the five miles to home. Home to get cleaned up, get his slimy cunt emptied out, get dressed and go find him some real pussy, none of this man shit. Prove his manhood was still intact.
 
That didnt work out too well.

Jethro was there, sitting on his goddamn couch, jeans and undies at his ankles, knees wide, his big brother nine inches (an inch shorter than Tyrone but fuck all fatter) getting a good jackoff while Jethro checked out the pics theyd taken when Grampa Dwayne was molesting his year, two, three, four year old boy. The pics from Tyrones fifth birthday when he got family gangfucked. Jacking to baby boy pics wasnt queer; just what family did when they didnt have a real baby boy to use.

Fuckin nigger just grinned at Tyrone and went on jacking. He was about to say something filthy about what a hot little slut younger bro Tyrone had been when he was little and hairless, but then he noticed how Tyrone was walking not just funny but weird.

Hey, bro, what the fucks up wit you?

Tyrone shrugged, and winced at the ripple of pain. Jethro naturally noticed. He also noticed a couple of lines of blood seeping through the shirt, low on the back above his jeans, when Tyrone turned to go toward the bedroom, not giving a fuck right them about the fresh blobs of cum on some of the pics, obviously from an earlier Jethro cum.

What da fuck, rone? Now you jes hold on there.  Jethro stepped up behind him and carefully lifted the shirt up and away. Gave a loud whistle at the sight of the bruises and welts on his lower back, two of them bleeding just a little. It was clear they extended below the line of his jeans.  He reached around to unbutton and unzip the sagging jeans. Tyrone slapped futilely at his brothers hands, too weak to stop it.

Give it up, bro. Aint nothin ah aint seen bfore, n fuck, aint nothin ah aint tapped when daddy or Leroy wudnt usin it. Holy mothafuckin shit!  The words leaped out when Jethro saw his brothers beaten, welted, bruised ass as he tugged the jeans down to his knees. He gave Tyrone a little push and Tyrone sighed and bent forward, resting his hands on his knees, his elbows turned out.

All Jethro had intended was to find out what was wrong with his youngest brother, help him, and then turn the fucking tables on whoever had done this. He dropped to one knee and leaned in to check the damage when just a regular inhalation caught a whiff of a smell he recognized.  Cum.  His youngest bros fuckin ass smelled like fuckin cum. None of the men in the family gave up they asses for nobody once they got pubes and could cum, no man did lessen he was a fag or some shit like that, and werent no fags in the family.

Except...well, fuck. He put his fingers on Tyrones damaged ass cheeks, ignoring the pained grunt, used his large thumbs to spread Tyrones hairy cheeks wide.  Well, mothafucka! all over again.  Tyrone had him a cunt hole n it was leaking spooge.  Shit, piss, fuck.  His youngest bro was a fuckin fag that took it up the ass.

Jethro slapped his brothers hurt ass...hard!  It made him stumble forward, the lowered jeans making it impossible to walk normally.  Jethro shoved him again and another time until Tyrone fell forward on the bed.  Jethro yanked off his bros boots, dropped them wherever, yanked the jeans off, did the same. Stood and stared. His bro was a fuckin mess. A fuckin fag mess with his cunt oozing slime.

Who?

Sh...sheriff.

Why?

L...lied to him about how much the honky paid me to fuck his ass.

Stupid roared into Jethros mind, shouting Lets kill the bastard!  Jethro cold-cocked stupid and tossed him out. Nobody went up against the sheriff, especially not one of the towns niggers, and even more especially not the Cash family, when the sheriff was making money off them.  Jethro paused.  Chuckled.  Fuck, now the family and the fuckin sheriff could make even more money, what with them havin a nigger fag now that could sell his pussy to the white guys who preferred fucking dark cunt rather than having their own cunts plowed with nigger dicks.

Jethros full nine inches was back to attention again. His bros queer cunt was all lubed with sheriff slime, so might as well not waste it. He climbed on the bed, straddling Tyrones legs, leaned forward, resting his weight on his left palm, using his right to nudge the bruised, puffy, pink-slimed cunt hole.

With all the sex and the beating and the walk, Tyrone was too exhausted to try to resist except verbally.  Cmon, bro, please.  Werent mah fault. He fuckin raped me.

Aint no man, no fuckin real man gets dick up his cunt lessen he wants it there.  Now jus reach back and hold open your cunt lips from your big bro.

Awkward, painfully, he did what he was told. And moaned as loudly as he was able when Jethro easily shoved his whole fucking fat nine inches in. Jethro moaned too.  So fucking tight, even when the cunt had just been used. Damn but fags sure knew how to use their pussy muscles. And what was even more exciting was it was his own fuckin fag brother, same pussy he used to tap when it was young and hairless, but now he was getting it again. Fuck, he was even gonna share the good news with daddy and Leroy that they had a fag bro to use whenever they couldnt get no real pussy.

Jethro started long-dicking his queer brother, knowing even with the huge fucking kiddy cum just a few minutes earlier, spraying the Polaroid of two year old Tyrone with his daddys dick half in the boys cunt, no way was he going to shoot fast for this one. Tyrone tried to just lay there, to let it happen, but the relentless pounding in his pussy began to have the effects they would continue to have for the rest of his not all that long life.  His worn out cock got hard again beneath his belly, grinding into the bedspread.  He whimpered, whined, began thrusting his hips back to meet his bros prick, finally began to beg to be fucked, harder. He got his wish.

The headboard began slamming against the wall, the loud noise waking up the baby, who started screaming. Both fucker and fuckee imagined it was their baby son/nephew whore screaming as his virgin pussy was molested for the first time. That sent Tyrone over the edge for a nearly dry violent cum that caused his cunt muscles to clamp down hard as Jethro ruthlessly fucked him...and slimed his bros queer ass.

After he pulled out, Jethro made Tyrone get up, crawl into the bathroom, squat on the tile floor, shit out all the juices and slime and whatever the fuck was up inside his thoroughly bred cunt, and then lick every drop up.

The Professor shook his head violently.  What the fuck!  He was in a car under the control of another sheriff, a sheriff who might be just as brutal to him as Sheriff...Sheriff Howard had been to his real daddy, and here he was having instant vid clip flashbacks of the things his uncles had told him about why his daddy got fucked and used, too, by his uncles and his grampas and other men, niggers and whites.

Hot. So fucking hot, professor.

Professor Mason risked a quick look over at the salacious grin on the cops face.

So your daddy liked gettin hurt n gettin fucked just like you?

Christ! Had he really said some, fuck, all of that memory shit out loud?  Fuck, fuck, fuck! He must have. The professor shuddered, realized his hand was still obediently stroking his meat, his other hand was still obediently fingering his pussy.  He had no choice except to nod.

Whatd the old white guy do to you?

TyroneDaddy Cashreassured the old white guy there was no problem, and the sheriff confirmed by lifting his beer bottle in salute, and groping his bulging crotch. Then daddy had asked what the man was interested in. Although it was fairly obvious since he had moved his wrinkled hand to Lamars seven year old nigger stiffie.

A little while later, the old man was on all fours on the floor of the filthy toilet, his flabby ass getting fucked by nigglet dick, while he sucked daddys dick all the way down. Uncle Leroy was playing with his kid cunt, working three fingers in and out, while Jethro watched and jacked. After he had his little boy cum, daddy slid his spit slimy dick up the old mans ass while the old man licked and slurped his own cunt slime off the boy prick, and fingered Lamars talented pussy, too. The old mans mouth and fingers gave the boy several more dry cums in a row, while first Daddy Cash bred the white mans ass, then both of Lamars uncles.

The old man had the seven year old nigger suck out all of his daddys and his uncles cum, then use that to lube the gnarly cut white prick.  It was the boys turn to get on all fours as the old white man shoved his cum-lubed meat into the tight nigger boy pussy. Thats when the sheriff, who had come into the toilet unnoticed, stepped up to the old man and got a blowjob while the boy fuck was going on below.  The old man came in the kid cunt, swallowed the law enforcement spooge, pulled his dick out, and sat back on his haunches, breathing heavily.  He looked around at naked nigger meat hanging out, and then down at the little boy hed just molested. He grinned as the sheriff finished things off by pissing on the nigger slut. And then did the same.

The old white mans nigger fun and games cost him five hundred bucks.

So you been a nigga ho all your life?

I...well, I guess. I didnt remember any of that, I mean, Uncle Jethro told me when I was about six, seven, maybe, about the early stuff.  How I used to suck off daddy, and him, and Uncle Leroy, and Grampa Dwayne. Well, maybe not really suck, more them putting their dicks in my mouth and jacking till they came, and making me swallow. Though by the time I was two I was actually sucking. And then came my second birthday.  Thats the first time daddy fucked me.  Raped me.

Hold that thought.

The cop pulled his car to the curb, turned the engine off, reached under the dash and flicked a switch that kept the roof lights from coming on when the door opened. They were in a part of the town the professor wasnt familiar with.  The street was mostly empty lots strewn with junk, a couple of houses, one with lights on, like someone was watching television. The car was under a dead street light, although one was still working across the street, illuminating the cop car and its occupants.

The cop got out, walked around to the passenger door, opened it.  Get the fuck out, nigger.

The professor leaned forward to pull up his pants but the cop said, No need for that, boy. You aint goin nowhere. Just swing your legs around and get the fuck out.

The professor did what he was told, having to use both hands on the door frame to pull himself up and out, so he was standing in the cool night air, half naked. And still hard. The cop twisted him around so he was facing the car, grabbed his head, roughly pushed it down and forward and the professor got the idea.  It was not an idea he liked.

He struggled, his hands on the door frame, preventing further movement. No, please! Somebody could....

See your naked nigger ass and hardon?  Fuck, yeah, but Id have my dick tucked and zipped before theyd pay attention to me, and youd just be a dumb shit nigger professor flasher and me a fine officer of the law arresting your fucking naked ass. Now do the fuck what youre told unless you want me to cram my fucking night stick up your fucking cunt all the goddamn fucking way, darkie.

The professor told himself the sound he made wasnt a whimper, and certainly wasnt a moan that made his dick twitch and leak at the image of being roughly fucked by a night stick. He leaned forward, head toward the steering wheel, bracing himself with his left hand on the seat, his right on the dash, and his legs bent so his shins were on the running bottom of the door frame. He looked over his shoulder. The cop had his meat and balls out, the unzipped pants acting almost like a cock ring, making the white prick seem even harder and more dangerous in the dim light. The cop spat on the nigger ass crack, repeated a couple of times, used a finger to smear a bit of the slime on the professors cunt, then moved in and shoved his dong balls deep.

The professor bit his lip, drawing blood, to keep from screaming and drawing the attention of whoever the fuck might hear, even on a street that seemed nearly abandoned.

Talk, whore. Tell me about bein raped.

It...was my second birthday. For the past six months daddy had been telling me how my birthday was going to be special, that he had something very special for me. Usually right after hed cum down my little throat. That...that night he fucked my mouth extra hard. He, he hurt me, forced more of his cock down my throat than Id ever had before, making me struggle and try to breathe. Just when I thought I was about to die he came down my throat, and then eased on back and out. I remember now hard it was, all sticky and shiny and slimy.

And then, then grampa, and my uncles did the same thing. Fucked my mouth hole really, really hard, one right after the other, telling me what a cum slut whore boy I was, just like my daddy. When they were done daddy asked me if I wanted my special birthday present. My face lit up. My daddy loved me.

The professor gasped as the cop fucked a little harder and reached under him to twist a tit he knew would be bruised later.

D...daddy pulled a pillow over on the bed, and laid my belly down on it so my little ass was sticking up.  Grampa told daddy to eat my pussy out, get it nice and slimy, a spit fuck just like when grampa took daddys cherry all those years ago.  And...and he did, and oh, daddys tongue felt so good on my hole, licking and slobbering and getting up inside, and making me all tingly like Id never been before.

And then he moved up and I could feel something big and hot and hard against my asshole, and I knew how tiny my hole was and how big daddys dick was and I knew, I just knew, it could never go inside me. But daddy rubbed it around my opening and asked if I was ready for my special present, and I said uh-huh and I asked him what it was, and he told me it was his fat daddys dick fucking my sweet dark pussy and daddy just shoved real hard and pushed his knob and a couple of inches into my poo poo hole. I screamed and screamed and screamed and tried to get away but I was too tiny, too weak, and anyway grampa was holding my shoulders down.

Grampa asked if his baby grandsons pussy was tight, n daddy sort of moaned how I had such a tight fucking little boy cunt, how much fun he was gonna have turning me into a little nigglet ho. How he was gonna work my pussy until it could take all of his daddy dick, fuck, take whatever meat daddy let use me. And he shoved a couple more inches in. Stopped, pulled back until he popped out, and I was babbling, thanking daddy for not hurting me any more, figuring Id done something bad but I didnt know what but still promising Id never do it again.

Then he hawked more spit and dropped it onto my gaping hole, breathing out how hot my sweet dark pussy was, and shoved it back in, doing it just that way, fucking as deep as he could get, then pulling all the way out, spitting, back in again, and I screamed and screamed and begged grampa n my uncles to help me, but when grampa lifted my teary face he told me to look and there they all were, with their dickies hard, just like they got when they fucked my mouth cunt.

Daddy was fucking in and out of my baby hole, and moaning, and my voice was gone. Grampa asked when he and my daddys brothers were gonna get their turns at my sweet dark pussy.  Daddy just kinda grunted, kinda laughed, n said as how theyd get their turns when he was fucking good and ready.

The cop paused in his brutal fucking of the professors ass, turned on even more than hed expected to be by what the professor had gone through all those years ago.  What the fuck was your granddaddy doing, asking permission? Why didnt he and good ol Jethro and good ol Leroy just take what they wanted?

The professors dick was leaking a steady stream of scum onto the cop car seat. He reached under and stroked his meat.

J...Jethro told me that it was a, a, a family tradition. The men molested the kids, mostly boys, some girls, using their hairless twats and cunnies and cunts whenever they wanted to get their rocks off, but as soon as the boy hit puberty and started cumming, that all stopped. They were pedos, though Uncle Jethro never said the word, not fags, and it was a daddys right to decide when hed allow the rest of the men to start abusing his baby boy. So even though daddy was just a goddamned fag, he was still the family fag and had some rights.

I guess that kinda pissed them off, though, cause Jethro told me that grampa got this kind of mad look in his eyes, and he moved behind daddy, smeared just a little bit of his precum around his own meat, and then pretty much dry-fucked his grampa dick all the way into my daddys cunt while daddy had his dick buried pretty far up my little boy hole. Daddy screamed, too. I was too worn out, and didnt understand enough, to appreciate it.

So all the time daddy was fucking my bloody, raw baby boy cunt, daddys fag pussy was getting fucked, too. And his fag mouth. Grampa came up my daddys ass, then had daddy clean up his shitty and slimy dick while my uncles fucked him. Daddy blew his wad in my pussy every time one of the men came inside his cunt.

The cop was really pounding the professors ass hard and deep.  Christ, fuck! Two year old baby nigger boy ass being raped by his own daddy, and his grampa and uncles are fucking fag daddy.  Gonna cum up your nigger ass, boy, gonna....

The cops phone rang.

He spewed a couple of obscenities but stopped fucking, pulled the phone out of his pocket, flipped it open.  Put it up to his ear. Yeah.  Listened, flipped it shut. Started fucking again. And didnt stop when a car drove down the street, its lights obviously on bright, almost shining a spotlight on the cop fucking the nigger professor bent over into the cop car, as the new car pulled in behind them.  Stopped with the lights still on while the professor panicked, and struggled and begged to be allowed to pull his pants up, not to be humiliated and caught. The cops fist hit him hard in his right side and he shut up. The new cars lights went off.

A figure got out, a shape in the new darkness. A man by the outline. He walked toward the fucked professor, the fucking cop.

Carlos.

The man nodded.  Stan.

The man...Carlos whoever the fuck...moved to the cops right, leaned forward to peer into the near-darkness at the joining of cop cock and professor pussy. Easier out here.

Youre the expert, doc.  The tone wasnt precisely complimentary.

The cop pulled his dick out, backed a single step.  Get the fuck outa my car, nigger. Brace and bend over the hood.

The professor struggled, but managed with the usual waddle walk of men whose clothes are at their ankles. The newcomer whistled at the length of the nigger meat. The cop laughed and said, You want some of that meat, doc?

The newcomers laugh was a little weird, a little off.  Wouldnt mind it.

Maybe later. For now, pull out your dick and get it hard.  

The newcomer did what he was told, began fisting himself. His cock was uncut, thick, eight inches long. The cop shoved his prick back up the professors ass, grabbed the nappy hair, yanked his head up and twisted it right.  Take a look at that spic maricon meat, professor.  Want to suck on it while I fuck your cum slut whore pussy? Ya think maybe spic seed is all hot and spicy, like fuckin salsa?

The professors cunt muscles clenched and released, clenched and released, working the cop cock fucking him, but still he begged the cop to finish, to just let him go, promising hed never say anything. The cop let go of his hair and punched his right side again, harder. The professor howled, the sound echoing through the empty street.  That sounded like a threat to me, nigger, and nobody but fucking nobody threatens me. You understand?

The professors sobbed, Yes, yes! was barely loud enough to be heard.

The cop began pounding the professors ass, full strokes in and out, retelling the story of a baby nigger boys brutal rape by his own daddy, and how his daddy was just a fag himself, who let his own daddy and his brothers fuck his queer ass while he was abusing his kid. Daddy raping a two year old, turning him into a kiddy cunt, a cum dump whore. He looked over at the newcomer who was jacking faster and faster.

Closer.

The man did what he was told, stepped in, his leaking cock close to the professors naked ass.

Cum for me, spic! The cops voice was deep, commanding, and the newcomer obeyed, spurting rope after rope of hot seed onto the professors hip, not a sound escaping from his lips.

Stay hard. Smear it around. The newcomer thrust his still-stiff prick into the slime on the professors flesh and used the knob to smear it around.  Do it when I cum.

The professor only vaguely wondered what the words meant.  He was too lost in the sensation of the cop cock ruthlessly fucking him, his powerful voice abusing him, reminding him of what a slut he had been, what a slut he was now, a fucking nigger pussy waiting to be bred by a tough white, just like the cop.

The cop sped up, every out stroke removing his entire cock, every in-stroke pushing easily into the gaping nigger pussy.  Own you, boy, fuckin own your pussy, nigger, so you grab my fuckin cock with your cunt and make me breed you, just like your fuckin daddy did when you were two and your pussy was squeezin daddy hard, beggin to be bred, and your daddys cunt was squeezin your grampas meat while daddys fag hole got fucked. Oh fuck, shit, Im cumming!

The professor could feel the hot cop seed spurting into his bowels, whimpered because somehow he wasnt cumming like he usually did when he was so well-fucked, so caught up that he didnt at first feel the needle that speared through the newcomers sperm and deep into his hip. Hed had a shot of gamma globulin once, and he that had felt the thick liquid going into his body, into his ass since that had been a hip shot, too.  But this...this was different.  This was like some fucking worm was going into his veins, lengthening, stretching out, pushing the vein wide so that it was a worm-width tube that spread, and spread and spread, splitting hydra-headed over and over.

His veins, his flesh, were burning, burning, burning!  His cock was on fire.

And then there was nothing.

He didnt even remember the cops deep voice, a moment, a minute, an hour, a year later,  saying, Cum for me, nigger, or emptying his balls against the side of the car.

The professors mess was more of a mess than hed ever dreamed.

