MORE THAN I BARGAINED FOR

By JoeKid
(MMM/b, MM, M/t, extreme pedo, oral, anal, incest)
Copyright 2007.  All rights reserved.
Okay, what follows right below is a blatant steal from DannyR and his Incest Tales and Another Mike the Soccer Coach stories:

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:  joeewing45@yahoo.com.

DISCLAIMER:  Some folks apparently have trouble distinguishing between fantasy and reality.  This story is a fantasy.  It didn't 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.  Now that we're clear on what's what, and what's not, read on.


MORE THAN I BARGAINED FOR


Im lazy.  I admit it.  Glory in it at times.

Three weeks ago I bought this huge old house with the huge, like holy shit, Batboy, look at the fuckin size of this back yard.  And way off in the corner, where the 8-foot south brick wall intersects with the hedge on the west that acts as a property line divider, theres this old-fashioned gazebo.  I hadnt really looked at it before today.  Saw it off in the distance when I was on the back porch...damned veranda actually...and glanced at the pics in the brochure.  Bought the place the same day.  For cash.  Shocked the shit out of the real estate agent when I wrote the check.  The poor bitch was almost peeing in her panties over all that nice, lovely, freshly-laundered money.  Not that she had any idea about that last adjective.

Im in the dry cleaning business, you see.  You probably didnt know that dry cleaning has gone global these days.  And Im the best there is.  People from all over the world send me their huddled masses of cash yearning to be clean, and I give my clients what they ask for.  For a price.  A hefty price.  But given the volume of repeat business, whether its an abso-fucking-lutely amazing number of Republicans either in the current administration or associated with them (does in bed together ring a bell?), or the Russian mob (the real fucking Russian mob, not the lite variety in the States), to anonymous clients in the Middle East, well, so are they all, all anonymous men, lets just say that as a workman Im damned worthy of my hire.

I suppose if I only did this occasionally, my percentage would have to be higher.  Or maybe use a sliding scale depending on the amount.  As it is, though, a flat rate for all clients is greatly appreciated by each of them, as is my reliability and trustworthiness.  Yes, even in this business there is trust.  There has to be, when you are turning over to a cleaner millions of the marks, yen, bucks or pounds that make the underworld go round.

My clients trust me to do the job Im well-paid for.  They also trust me to be reasonable when I skim a little off the top.  I doubt that one unreasonable skim would cause me problems, provided I groveled acceptably to the client (a task for which I have no talent, and therefore little interest to engage in) and returned not only the amount by which the skim was made unreasonable, but all of the skim, and a goodly percentage of my fee.  A second unreasonable skim would undoubtedly result in my very painful, possibly public, demise.  A warning heard round the world, as it were.

While my business necessitates being very well protected, no one is so well-protected that he cannot eventually be reached.  To make it more difficult to reach me, only a few people have actually met me in person.  The rest of my clients communicate through electronic communications so expertly and thoroughly scrambled I suspect Homeland Security, the Mossad, MI-6-8-10-whatever-the-fuck, or plenty of other alphabet agencies, would kill to get their hands on the software and hardware.  Except they dont have any idea it exists.  For obvious reasons, professional privacy is absolutely necessary.

For my own sanity, personal privacy is as well.

Thus, the new house.  As I said, old, huge.  Yet curiously modern.  The brick wall at the end of the yard, hell, its more like the south forty than a yard, was fitted with sensors, cameras, etc., as part of a sophisticated security system well beyond most systems installed in private homes in this country.  So much so that it had only taken a week to upgrade the system to meet my standards. There was a similar wall on the east side of the property, past the carriage house, tennis court, swimming pool and formal garden.  And another on the north/front of the house.  The only place there wasnt a wall was the west.  Instead, that was occupied by a thick, tall as the brick walls, well, fucking hedge, I guess.  A couple of feet thick, too.  It was wired into the system, as well, and it must have taken years, hell, decades to grow.  But still, Id feel a hell of a lot better with a wall there, even though the only thing on the other side of it was the back yards of four much smaller houses.  So it was going to have to come down.

Just not until Id finished watering it.

I mean, why bother going all the way back to the house to piss when theres this big hedge available, and its not like an occasional piss or three is going to kill the damned thing.

I had my head tilted back, eyes shut, enjoying the feel of the slightly cool for mid-June air, the warmth of the late afternoon sun, the sound of a long steady stream splashing on the leaves and the ground, as I pointed my dick away from my body with my left hand and finished off the current long-necked, ice-cold Bud.  Two at lunch, one while I was looking over my new domain, master of all I surveyed and all that jazz, the third and part of the fourth while I started looking at some special porn on my laptop in the gazebo, and the last during the piss.

The wow! to my right surprised me.  Made me freeze for a moment.  Even wondered for a split second before the actual word and tone sank into my consciousness, just who Id pissed off, how theyd found me, how theyd gotten to me, and what the fuck was my get-your-fucking-asses-out-here-and-protect-me gadget doing sitting next to the laptop.

The voice had said, Wow.

Couldnt be Thomas or Diego, the two bodyguards currently on duty, since (a) they were up in the fucking house and (b) theyd seen my dick before so there was nothing wow about it to them and (c) neither of their voices were that soft, that high-pitched.

So I looked.

To my right, and down.  Then down again.

It was a boy.  No more than six, probably younger.  Bright-eyed, wide-eyed, curly-haired, with a big toothy grin on his face.

A little boy wearing nothing except thin shorts that didnt hide his little hardon.

A little nigger boy.

Oh.  Perhaps you werent aware.

Im white, forty-five, and a Southern white trash redneck born and bred racist.

Oh, yes.  And Im a pedophile, too.

And there is nothing I like more than breeding nigger kid cunt.  Girl cunt if I have to, but my preferred cunt is young boy. Very young boy cunt.  I wondered if the kid had a baby brother.

I smiled at him.  A good smile.  A friendly smile.  A sheep smile to hide the lean and hungry look behind.  I think too much and I am dangerous.  But he doesnt know that.  Not now.  Not yet.  But he will.

Whats your name? I asked as I tucked my dick back into my shorts before it got all the way hard.

As my cock disappeared from sight, his big smile went away, and he looked a little sad.  Tyrone, he said, his voice sounding as sad as his face looked.

You know youre on my property, dont you?

Yessir.  He made it all one word, and oh how I love respectful young niggers.

And little boys who trespass get punished, dont they?

His head went down and his yessir was even softer.

I squatted down in front of him, set the bottle in the grass, tilted his head up with my forefinger under his chin.  But before we got to the punishment, the idea of which was getting my dick hard, I had to know how he got in without setting off the alarms.  Because if he could do it, someone else could.  Because fuck, its not exactly as if this half-naked nigger kid walked up to my front door, rang the bell, and asked to come visit me out back.  Howd you get into my back yard?

There.  He twisted his plump little body and pointed farther north on the hedge.

Show me.  I got up, followed him five or ten steps, and then he showed me.

Shit!  You know, if it looks like a duck, its supposed to quack like a duck and be a fucking duck.  So if it looks like a goddamned fucking hedge its supposed to be a goddamned fucking hedge.  Except it wasnt.  There was a goddamned motherfucking hole in my goddamn hedge.  A square fucking hole.  Tunnel.  Whatever the fuck.  Not a kid-sized hole, either.  An adult could get through this.  Perfectly disguised so unless you knew it was there, you wouldnt know it was fucking there.  Presumably, hopefully, equally well disguised at the other end.  And obviously, two-by-four between the eyes obviously, not fucking wired into the fucking security system.

Fuck!

What else didnt I know about this property that would make me vulnerable?

But I shoved that thought aside.  Smiled at the kid again, though I have to admit it was probably a bit frayed around the edges.  Hunkered down beside him again.  So, whats over there? I asked, tilting my head toward the far end of the tunnel.

Our house.

Who lives there?

Me n my daddy n my brothers.

And you all just come through that hole whenever you feel like it?  Without asking?

Now that question was definitely more than a little edged.  Tyrone kind of winced and just nodded.  Then said, Mr. Chen said it was okay.

Mr. who?  Oh.  The guy who used to own this place.  I made it sound as if I had no idea, or not much of an idea, who he was.  The reality was that Mr. Chen was a retired Chinese diplomat, with many useful contacts in Beijing and elsewhere, and we knew each other quite well in a professional sense, though oddly enough we had never met in person.  He was aware I was looking to upscale my living arrangements, and we had in fact been negotiating for the purchase of this house when he suddenly died.  No radioactive poison pellet.  Merely age and a heart attack.

Uh huh.  His head bobbed up and down eagerly.  I wondered if hed bob that eagerly on my dick.  

Well, you didnt ask me first, did you?

Nosir.

So you still need to be punished, dont you?

A little sigh.  Yessir.

I told myself as I stood up and held out a hand, which he promptly took, that messing with the boy next door was just plain stupid.  I told myself as we walked to the gazebo that it didnt matter that his little boy tits were plump and pointy and that hed probably squeal if I twisted them.  I told myself as we walked up the three steps and through the door into the air conditioning...old Chen had definitely built himself a modern gazebo as it came with a comfortable bed, a desk with an internet connection, tables and chairs, a small refrigerator, a minibar...getting some nigger boypussy after a long dry spell would seriously endanger my privacy when his father had the cops come break down my door.  Especially when I was so new to the area I hadnt gotten around yet to buying any important cops.  I told myself as I closed and locked the door behind us and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, to be sensible, to not shit where I ate, to lightly swat his bottom so he couldnt complain of child abuse, then scare him and send him home with a note to his daddy.

I wasnt all surprised that myself ignored every stern word Id said to him.

But first, my curiosity got the better of my hardening cock.  Hell, my fucking stiff cock.  But only momentarily.  So why did you come over here?  Youre a little young to be in the pool by yourself.

If a nigger that black could blush, he probably would have.  He shook his nappy little head and then kind of peeped up at me.  I guess he could tell I was waiting for an answer.  He said very softly, Wanted to see a white peepee.

Well, fuck.  I could do that for him.

Instead of just whipping it out, though, I asked him why he thought hed see one, or see mine, if he came over here.  Turns out that the late Mr. Chen...whose fucking estate lawyers had to approve me as a potential buyer before I even got to see the house and grounds...liked to swim nude.  So hed seen plenty of chink dick, I guess.  And nigger dick at home.  I figured if he was wandering around naked and was used to coming over here that way, hed seen his brothers dicks, maybe even his daddys.  Young nigger boy, hot nigger daddy.  Damn! but that thought got me leaking.

One last fucking question for the kid...before getting down to, well, the fucking.  Hot damn.  He was almos four.

I asked him if he was sure he wanted to see my dick.  He didnt look puzzled by the word, so obviously he knew what it meant.  He nodded and gave me a huge smile.  Christ, those teeth were blinding white against that spade skin.  I stood up, unbuttoned my shorts, skimmed them down so they dropped to my ankles, stepped out of them and stood there with my cock straight out, hard and leaking.  His mouth dropped open.

Not because of the size.  Im a little more than average, but not all that much.  An exact seven inches, uncut, just under five inches around at the thickest, so thats about an inch and half or so wide.  I do have very large balls, hanging down in a sac that looks like saddlebags, the way the skin drapes around the base of my dick.  Like what you see, boy?

He nodded again.  Put his hand down between his legs, inside his shorts, and played with himself.  Couldnt resist.  Leaned over, pulled his shorts down to the ground while he got his tiny...hey, damn, not so fucking tiny...dick hard.  Okay, enough Mr. Nice Guy shit.

I sat back down on the edge of the bed, spread my legs wide, grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to stand between them.  Put my hand down to him, pushed his aside, and began playing with his hard little boidick.  Used my left hand to grab his boy tit, tug on it a little, feel it stiffen up, listen to a faint whimper from him.  Squeezed his little package.  Hard.  Same time as I used my thumb and knuckle on his tit.  He squealed and gasped, and tears filled his eyes.

Do you love your daddy?

He nodded frantically as if that would get my hands off him.  Didnt work.  I just squeezed harder, he squealed louder, whining please, please and I told him to speak up and asked him again.  His yes was almost shouted.

So I told him if he told anyone about what we did Id have his daddy killed and it would all be his fault, and he and his brothers would go to foster homes, separate fucking foster homes, where the people would be mean to them and hurt them, and that would be his fault too, getting his brothers hurt, if he ever told.  Hed been very articulate up to that point, but he took a few language baby steps backward right then, babbling and begging, pease, pease, dont hurt, I do, I do.

So I rewarded him.  I eased up, turned the squeezing into fondling, let him get his breath back.  You gonna do what I tell you?  Everything I tell you?

He started to nod, stopped, ran yessir together again.  A quick learner.  Time to see what else he could learn quickly.

I put my hands on his shoulders.  Moved him forward.  Such soft skin.  I caressed his hairless body, tweaked his tits gently, making him moan.  Ah, yes, a very trainable nigger slut boy.  Fondled his still hard pricklet, tugged on his tiny balls. Made him lick and slobber all over my fuck-you finger.  Reached behind him to squeeze a butt that in a few years was going to be the proverbial two-basketballs butt, prodded his tight little hole and rammed my finger in.  He shrieked and tried to dance away, to lift himself off the invader, but I was holding him tight.

He calmed down a little when I just held my finger there, and didnt struggle too much when I started finger fucking his soon-to-be-cock-fucked boipussy.  He was a little slick inside, more than the spit on my finger, which meant it was going to be a little bit messy.  Not my worry.  I wasnt the one who was going to be cleaning fingers or anything else.

I pulled my finger out, shoved it in his mouth.  Guess he didnt like the taste, but at least he wasnt stupid enough...or perhaps he was too scared...to try to bite me.  We repeated the process with two fingers, but I wasnt going any higher than that.  Getting virgin boy cunt loosened up so you can actually get your dick in it is one thing, making it so loose it was easy on the kid is too much of a fucking another thing.

I picked him up, tossed him belly down on the soft bed, his legs dangling over the edge.  Li had clearly had the bed built with boy fucking in mind since it was the perfect height for an ordinary man to kneel on the floor and have his dick line up with kiddy asshole.  Or it just could be coincidence since Id never met Li in person and didnt really know what his sex kicks were.  But it was a nice fantasy to think of the old chink getting his rocks off with the neighbor niggers.

I spread his cheeks and looked at the tight, tight dark little rosebud.  It was so beautiful I spit on it again.  Used my left hand on his shoulders and some of my weight to hold him in place...he might have a little trouble breathing with his face in the duvet, but that could wait.  Used my right hand to line my cock up just right and then shoved the head in so his pussy lips snapped tight around the shaft.  I guess he was squealing from the mmph mmph mmph I heard, but then I realized that would just add to the flavor.

Ever had your dick, even your cock head, inside a virgin boy pussy?  A virgin, very young boy pussy?  Or best of all, a virgin, very young nigger boy pussy? Christ, you have no fucking idea what youre missing.  There are only two better highs in the whole fucking universe.  Getting your cock balls deep in the kids cunt for the first time.  And then raping his little hole until his no-longer-virgin pussy gets a huge load of white mans cum.

Theres no work of art that compares with the view looking down at some flavor of brown boy buttcoffee with lots of cream, milk chocolate, Nestls chocolate morsels for Tollhouse cookies, dark chocolate bars from Hersheys or Switzerland, or really special chocolate from the Parisian chocolatiers which is what 70-80% cocoa and so dark its almost black with a white mans dick in high contrast, holding still or moving in and out of the little cunt.

This kid was Parisian chocolate, dark and pure.  Well, pure until he got dicked by a white man.

The boys voice was loud and shrill.  Apparently it hurts to have white cock head rammed into your tight little boys pussy.  Your almos four little pussy.  This time he was bright enough to turn his head to the side...so he could keep breathing and screaming...as I held his shoulders and pushed about six and a half inches in.  Leaving an annoying half inch of white cock meat all alone and uncovered by nigger boy cunt.  That half inch was lonely.  I eased back so another inch or so could join it, then shoved hard and all fourteen half-inches were deliriously happy.  They were in a hot, clutching, moist very young nigger ass.

I let him scream a few more times and thrash around a bit as I started more serious raping.  Then I clamped a hand around his mouth to cut him off.  Not that I wasnt enjoying the screams and the pain and the pleas, it was a fucking turn-on, enhancing my hardon tremendously since I didnt get this kind of sex very often.  But I didnt want him to lose his voice and draw even more attention to himself when I sent him home.

Of course, that wasnt going to happen for a while yet.  If Im buried balls-deep in little boicunt, Im a fucking Energizer bunny when Im fucking.  Except, well, this first fuck was going to be over soon.  Raping an almost four-year-old nigger boy, starting the process of teaching him his place in life, when you havent had this kind of pedo sex in a long fucking time doesnt make for long first fucks. And it wasnt.  Partially because of my being so goddamned turned on, but partially the kid.  He actually had a dry cum and when he started spasming and clenching his pussy walls around my dick I just exploded.

I pulled out and left him laying there, crying quietly now.  I guess the threat to cut off his balls might have had something to do with that.

I pulled a plastic bottle of water out of the refrigerator and took a good long swig.  Then walked back with my hardon leading the way.  I got on the bed again, grabbed a hunk of his nappy hair, raised his head, and didnt bother with letting him struggle or defy me.  I told him to open his mouth at the same time I squeezed his nose so he couldnt breathe and when he gasped his mouth wide open I slid my cock in.  The way he started struggling and spitting I guessed he didnt like the taste on my dick any more than he had on my fingers.

Not my problem.  Hes a nigger.  His only real place in life is to do what whites, especially white men, wanted him to do.  And at the moment that was to clean up my dick and get it wet again for his next fuck.  Next rape, actually, since he definitely wasnt going to understand his proper role just yet, which was to enjoy whatever sex his master, permanent or temporary, such as the length of this rape, for example, might choose to allow him.

The second time I reminded him of his promise to do everything I told him. And of what would happen to his daddy and brothers if he didnt.  So this time I made him cooperate with his own rape.  Made him try out various poses to entice me.  Told him how little value he had except as a fuck toy for white men.  Made him suck and slobber on my cock, even getting about three inches down his throat, and then berating him for his unwillingness to do what his master wanted.  Made sure he understood, at least as well as an almost-four, first-time-raped-starting-on-the-second little nigger boy could, that this time it was his fault he was being raped, because hed flaunted his little boy titties, his little boy hardon, his little boy pussy until he got me so turned on I had no choice except to rape him.

As I said, even the quick high of an over-too-fast virgin rape is the best.  A long, leisurely second rape using his nigger cunt in a variety of positions before filling him with white mans spooge was nearly as good.  He still begged, though not as much, and interspersed with all that were three cums.  I held off though, relentlessly, ruthlessly fucking him for nearly an hour before cumming.

He was exhausted, tears gone, body limp, his cunt almost loose it had so much cum in it.  I had a beer while I contemplated what next, and decided to just stick with the basics.  Garden variety virgin nigger boy rape.  Dick in holes and nothing more.

I occasionally enjoy sloppy seconds, because usually the kid cunt, teen cunt, man cunt youre sliding into is still reasonably tight and you can feel more cunt flesh than lube and cum around your cock.  Sloppy thirds or fourths were to be avoided.  Even with fresh-fucked boy cunt, most of the time the first two or three loads of cum leave so much slime in his pussy its too easy, too loose, like a whores pussy thats almost worn out from over-use.

I caressed his nappy head.  Gently woke him up.  Cradled his head in my hands.  Gently, lovingly told him to Wake the fuck up, nigger slut boy!  Decided those overly plump lips were too enticing.  I held him in place and skull-fucked him until he was swallowing most of my dick.  But when I knew I was about to cum, I pulled out, forced him belly down on the bed, crawled onto him and fucked the shit and my cum out of him until I came a third time in his hole.

At 45, I figure the third time is a pretty damned good fucking charm.  So I cleaned him up, washed his face and hands, got his clothes back on, and took him to the not quite secret tunnel into my property, and told him Id really hurt his daddy before his daddy finally died if he said anything.  Dry-eyed, he just said Yassuh.  Fuck, I dont think he even knew what he was doing, but it was damn good to hear out of lips that were swollen not with kisses but with white man cock going in and out of his mouth cunt.  I hoped his family didnt recognize a freshly-skull-fucked little boys face.

I went back to the house to work, occasionally running my fingers through my sticky, messy pubes, lifting my fingers to enjoy the smells of raping the neighbor boy.  Christ, the neighbor nigger boy.  Fixed myself a steak and a salad later, had a glass of wine, and headed to bed.  Eager for noon tomorrow.

The next morning I woke with a nice hardon, and the memory of hot, tight boipussy wrapped around it.  I was planning on a little jackoff, but no cumming, before getting up, logging in and dealing with the three million arriving from Moscow.  There were some tricky aspects to cleaning this particular batch, of course not nearly the problems associated with currency and the Middle East, but still I wanted to get a good start on the first stage stain removal processes.  Id told Tyrone to come back at noon so I could fuck his tight little cunt again.  He was too scared not to agree, and Im sure hell be here.

Id just worked up a good stroke, and was thinking about changing my mind about the not-cumming bit, when Diego interrupted me.  Not in person, although God knows hes seen me in action before, solo and...not so solo...since if youre too far away from the body youre guarding youre liable to be guarding a dead body.  The intercom.  Telling me I had visitors.  I glanced at the clock.  Eight a.m. on Saturday morning?

I started to tell him to tell whoever it was to politely fuck off I wasnt in the mood, but he continued speaking.  A Maurice Benton, Mr. Randall.  He apologizes for not calling ahead and for the early hour, but a quite urgent matter has arisen, he says, which requires your immediate attention.

Ah.  Mr. Benton was standing right there, so Diego must have been close to the front gate when the man arrived, so this was an in person request, rather than an electronic one.  While Diego looks precisely like the Latino thug he in actuality is, he was trainable, had been trained, and could now say things like a quite urgent matter with flawless diction that shocked the shit out of people the first time he did it to them.  I firmly believe in rarely living down to someones expectations, and then only when necessary to achieve what I wanted.  Diego started to say something more but it was my turn to cut him off.  I told him to let Mr. Benton know I would be available in ten minutes (as if I wasnt aware Mr. Benton was standing nearby); to let him through the gates, and to call Thomas to let him in.

Thomas is my nigger bodyguard.  Oh, yes, Im a racist, but Im not a stupid racist.  Thomas is roughly the size of my Escalade, with muscles that make him seem as armored as a tank, is deadly with just about anything, including the obvious things like guns and knives, is fluent in four languages besides nigger-speak from the ghetto he grew up in, was an experienced and highly-paid mercenary before he retired into my employment, and is both an incredibly good fuck and an incredibly good player.  Ive never been quite certain whether the yes, massa when I use him is because he really does know that hes merely a nigger whose place in life is to be used by whites, or whether its merely a role he plays for the fun of it, for the money, for the sex.

I took a quick piss and shit, splashed some water on my face, did Mr. Benton the courtesy of using mouthwash, didnt bother with deodorant (I sniffed, I wasnt that ripe...yet), pulled on a pair of jeans (commando), a black tee, and headed barefoot down the steps to the library where Thomas would have placed him.  I could have done more to conform to my usual image of wealthy, powerful businessman...fuck, how many local accountants have a team of bodyguards for 24/7/365 coverage and own a place like this...but I was still pissed at Mr. Benton.  Not so much for the Saturday morning intrusion sans invitation, but he was the lawyer for the Chen estate who had been so fucking difficult about getting in to see the property in the first place.  So as far as my attire and possible ripeness from the kiddy cunt fucking Id done yesterday, fuck Mr. Benton if he cant take a joke.

As I reached the door Thomas started to say something but I waved him to silence, opened the door and stepped in.

I got to see if I could take a joke.

Diego had probably tried to tell me.  Thomas certainly had.  So I had no one to blame except myself.

It was, indeed, Mr. Benton standing there by the end of the sofa.  The very black, nigger Mr. Benton, though Id not known about the nigger part until just now, who was one of five partners who ran a very large firm in the city.  A pretty damned powerful and well-connected law firm, connected at every fucking level of society.  And I was sure that included the levels down below in which I so very often worked.  He introduced himself.  He had no reason to lie, and in any event I recognized his voice.

He also introduced the four boys on the sofa, each as well dressed as their father in suits and ties, which somehow did not seem incongruous despite the day.  Left to right by age and height:  Jamal (14), DeShawn (9), Darnell (6) and of course the joke of the day on me...Tyrone (almos four).

The Benton family.  My neighbors over (or under) the hedge.

Accompanied by children or not, I knew Diego wouldnt have let him past the gates if hed been armed.  Thomas would have quietly checked, too, from his anything goes, give me a stale Twinkie and Ill kill the guy for you, perspective.  Mr. Benton wasnt visibly raging.  Tyrone was just sitting quietly, head down, a little solemn, hell, all five of them were solemn, but still....  Okay, so maybe I could get through this without pressing the panic button for Thomas and Diego.  Who would of course howl with laughter at the idea of protecting me from a father and four young sons.

There was a moment of slightly awkward silence.  I am not a renowned conversationalist...renowned cleaner, yes, polite social chit-chat, no.  Perhaps some food...a fancy etiquette type thing to do.  I only got the May I out before Mr. Benton interrupted me.

Did you rape Tyrone yesterday, Mr. Randall?

I am rarely flustered.  I dont have a fucking idea when the last time was, it was so long ago.  Perhaps the first time my father fucked me, when I was five.  Perhaps when I was fourteen, just like Jamal there...although of course I was and am white and hes a nigger...and I first fucked a boy cunt.  A three year old I was babysitting.  Perhaps the first time I killed a man.

The silence, even though it was only seconds long, was itself an admission.  A truly innocent man would have howled in outrage at the charge, a nanosecond after the last word was spoken.  I guessed Tyrone wasnt too scared after all.  He probably told a brother, who told the oldest, who told their father.

I was well and truly fucked.

But the silence wasnt broken by me, it was broken by Tyrone, who well and truly fucked me again.

Honest, Mr. Randall, I didnt tell daddy.  I promised!

He actually didnt say anything, Mr. Randall.  At least not until now. Hes a very honorable little boy.  He glanced at me as he caressed the nappy little head Id so ruthlessly skull-fucked yesterday.  Somehow I knew that so are they all, all honorable little boys was going through his mind, too.  But aside from that fleeting thought I was aware of how big that hand was.  Huge.  Which went with the huge fucking rest of him.  

I spread my hands wide in a calming motion.  Backed up just a little.  Maybe I could get to the door ahead of him, despite his being ten years younger, twenty years fitter, a head or more taller.  And my fucking panic button nowhere around.  Fucking again.

Its really a very simple question, Mr. Randall.  We both already know the answer.  He was acting a little odd last night, walking a little strange.  So when I gave him his bath I checked him.  His hole was bruised and swollen.  There was semen still inside and his pants were wet with it.  I knew he had been over here and nowhere else.  I knew none of my other sons could have done that to him.  None of their dicks are big enough.  Q.E.D., Mr. Randall.  

His voice became, well, not edged with granite, solid granite.  And began getting steadily louder, harsher.  Did he try to get away from you?  Did he cry?  Did he beg you not to hurt him?  Did he struggle and scream when you shoved your dick balls-deep inside this tiny little boy body?  Answer me, Mr. Randall.  Just answer the god...damned...fucking...question!

Yes.

It was indeed my day for getting interrupted.  And flustered.  Id known I was going to have to answer him.  I was prepared with the but he enjoyed getting dicked line.  I was prepared with money.  No matter how good he was, this lawyer didnt have my financial resources, and he had to be used to negotiating settlements.

His soft, Thank you, massa, along with the change from the posture of a hard-assed Harvard lawyer going for the kill at trial, to that of a submissive nigger slave, nearly blew away what was left of my fucking mind.

I somehow managed to keep a straight face.  To show no surprise.

Ise sposed to give you this, massa.  He pulled a thick envelope out of his inside pocket, handed it to me, head bowed.  My name was on it in an elegant script I recognized.  Chens.  Occasionally we communicated the old-fashioned way.  In writing, but never about business, of course.

I looked at that bowed head.  Nigger-speak...plantation nigger-speak...with a vengeance.  I looked over at the boys as I started to open the envelope.  Christ.  All four of them were playing with themselves.  The oldest, Jamal, had unzipped and had his hands inside his slacks, jacking what I could see would be an impressive piece of teen nigger meat once it was out.  But first I had to find out what the fuck was going on.  I ignored my own new-sprung hardon, which would be clearly visible given the age and tightness of the jeans, and began reading.

My dear Jonathan,

As the clich goes, if you are reading this I must be dead.  I truly expected to have longer, to complete our negotiations over the house I am sure you now both own and occupy.  Time to surprise you with the deed to the property as a gift, returning your payment.  It would have been cash, wouldnt it?  Time to surprise you with my second gift.  One that I think you will find more appealing than something as tangible as land or cash.

If you are reading this, and Maurice has followed his instructions, as I have every expectation he will have, you have now met your five niggers.

Yes, Jonathan, your niggers.  You see, I am well aware of your predilections, have known of them for years.  They are, my boy, the same as my own.  But once I knew with reasonable certainty from my doctors...although not quite so much certainty as all that, however, if you are reading this...I knew I had to make arrangements to properly dispose of everything I own.  Which included my niggers.

I bought Maurice when he was fifteen.  Quite beautiful, especially those very thick nigger lips that look so well when they are being used to suck cock.  His first massa, a white man whose name you will undoubtedly recognize if you trouble to inquire, had fallen on financial hard times.  Actually, to be honest, and when you are dying I suppose you must be, he didnt so much fall on hard times as he was pushed.  By me.  I ruined him with a great deal of malice aforethought.  A variety of sound reasons, both economic and highly personal, that you would certainly appreciate, but which are irrelevant at the moment.

I saw a great deal of potential in Maurice, both as a nigger and as a tool.  I owned an eight-year-old nigger girl, quite beautiful, with good genes, and I wanted to breed her to another high-quality nigger.  Enter Maurice.  He was reluctant to fuck her at first.  He had been used so often and so well by his previous owner and his previous owners friends and acquaintances, and passers-by on the street to whom he was loaned, that he had little interest in females.  But a judicious use of the whip on his back and buttocks...he still carries some scars, which he will proudly show you when you wish...a large dildo in his cunt, and a promise that if he got hard hed get the education hed always wanted, if he didnt Id sell him to a brothel in the Middle East, worked wonders on his erectile dysfunction.  No need for pills at all.

He fucked her long and hard the day he took her cherry.  He wasnt full-dicked yet, but it was large enough for her to scream and scream again when he did as he was told, like good nigger boys should, and rammed it home all at once.  Twice more that day, the last with only modest encouragement from the whip.  Of course, as she grew up, I allowed others to use her.  She had to earn her keep, after all.  But only with condoms, and only with dicks no larger than Maurices at the time.

I realize the stories about the general size of nigger meat are supposed to be unscientific and merely anecdotal, but they are definitely true with Maurice.  Nine inches, my dear boy, nearly three inches in diameter, over nine around.  Unfortunately, she did not reach puberty as early as I had hoped.  She was thirteen, and Maurice was twenty-one and starting Harvard Law after having graduated from Harvard with honors, when he bred her.  Jamal is the happy result.

My very own nigger buck to put out to stud.  My very own baby nigger boy to use.  Of course Maurice was not allowed to touch him, at least not sexually, although Jamal lived with him in the same condo I purchased for Maurice when he graduated from high school.  However, as a special treat, I did allow Jamal to suck his daddy off the day DeShawn was born.  Gratitude for Maurice breeding true and producing another little boy for me.  When Darnell was born, I felt my young buck deserved a greater reward...besides the shares of stock in the principal business you own, Jonathan, which everyone else believed to be because of the twelve-million dollar verdict hed recently won.

Maurice was very gratified when I allowed Jamal to fist fuck his daddy, over and over again until his daddy came buckets, as the saying goes.  A truism for Maurice, and a treat to lick up for Jamal and DeShawn.  When little Tyrone was born, Jamal was ten, and I had some big-dicked men who wanted some boy-cunt to seal a deal, and I knew they would be rough.  So I let Maurice...ordered him to, actually...rape his own ten year old boy.  While I watched.  And jacked as the boy screamed and writhed and eventually, surprisingly fast, began to beg his daddy to fuck him harder.  When the second fuck was over I had Maurice sit on his boys face, while he pulled Jamals hips up in the air, spread his legs almost into a split, and I jacked off into the gaping raw hole left by the daddy rapes.

Tyrone?  Well, I always intended him as a gift for you.  So I kept him virgin, although he was allowed to watch when I used his brothers, or on occasion, his father.

Perhaps not so much a gift, though, dear boy, as a treasure you earned.  We have had little contact these last few years, and my plan had been to present Tyrone to you on his fourth birthday.  Although a nigger who knows his place when he is with me, Maurice is, as you know now, or at least have guessed,  quite powerful outside of that context.  He knew I owned his soul.  Owned his body, too, as I branded him on his 18th birthday.  By the way, that is a tradition I know Jamal, at least, is hoping you will continue.  He may even try to persuade you he should be branded sooner.  He does love pain.

Maurice would have gone with whoever I gave him to, or sold him to, with or without the boys.  Just as they would have obeyed.  All of them fully understand they live only to be used and to serve in any way they are told to serve.  But they only knew of you, and though they knew my plans, Maurice had my permission, if I died before I gave you your niggers, to devise a test involving Tyrone.  To find out what kind of master you would be.  Whether you could treat your niggers as they should be treated.  If you are reading this, you have passed the test.  I hope, my dear Jonathan, that you raped Tyrone and raped him well.  Seducing him into giving up his cunt would have been acceptable, but I counted on you to do the right thing.

And the mere fact you are reading this, if indeed you are, as how the fuck would I know at that point, then that means Maurice has made his decision.  He did not know until I was dead and received his own letter, that I gave him the right to decide whether to submit himself and his boys to you, after the test.  If he decided against you, he had to pick one of two other masters.  Both of whom knew of the possibility as they had both used Maurice and the older boys more than once, so he couldnt just ignore my wishes.  Not that he would.  Maurice is a very, very good nigger.  Just as he will be a very, very good lawyer for you.

And last...are you grateful, my friend, that this epistle of epic proportions is nearly  at an end...it is not fair in light of our long friendship to burden you with the costs associated with the care and feeding of five new niggers.  I hope the fifty million dollars which accompanies them will help ease that burden.  Sixty if Tyrone was well and truly raped.

Chen Li.

I stopped reading and couldnt decide whether to laugh or cry or do both.  I did neither.  I looked at Maurice.  Fifty or sixty, nigger?

Sixty, sir.

This time I did laugh.  My niggers knew better than to laugh with me, but I could see the smiles they were hiding with varying degrees of success.  Or no success at all in Tyrones case.  I looked at them, then, and said coldly, Niggers dont wear clothes in my home.  If I want to fuck one of your holes, or whip one of you just for the pleasure of doing so I looked pointedly at Jamal whose head had jerked up from focusing on getting his pants off at those wordsI dont want to waste time getting to skin.  And I dont fucking care if theres six inches of snow on the ground when I tell you to go out and get the paper, or a tornado heading directly for the wall, youll do it all naked.  Now line the fuck up.

They did.  The boys in front of the sofa.  Their daddy towering over little Tyrone.  And like good niggers, all their dicks were hard.  Their heads were bowed, their hands were clasped behind them.  Even little Tyrone was making a good attempt at a nigger civilian version of parade rest.

I inspected the essentials first.  Cocks and balls and tits.  Maurice was just as the letter had said, thickly veined and uncut.  All the boys were uncut, too.  I liked that in a nigger.  Good masters enjoy their niggers dicks in a variety of ways.  One of my ways was sucking.  Ive always preferred dark meat...in everything.  I took as much of Maurices dick as I could...I was going to enjoy having that around to practice my deep throating techniques on...and twisted his tits while I did.  Like a well-trained nigger his only reaction was a slight whimper although I could tell from his body that his tits were wired into his dick.  The little spurt of precum was a clue.

Tyrone was next.  I picked him up and balanced him on the wide arm of the sofa...so wide it almost seemed as if it had been intended for young boys to stand on while they get their tiny balls licked and their dicklets sucked.  Tyrone certainly enjoyed it.

Darnell scrambled up there when I told him to, after I put Tyrone down again.  Grinning broadly when I played with his surprisingly-large-for six cock, and whimpering, too, when I twisted both his tits.  Maurice bred true in multiple ways.

DeShawn was somewhat different from his brothers and his father.  Oh, the big dick had bred true even though he was just nine.  Working his tits made his dick twitch, too.  He was as strongly built as everyone else, but gave an impression of softness.  As if, given half a chance, hed become a screaming queen.  Not on my watch.  A soft, effeminate boy, teen, man, almost girlish, but always both a man and a lady...yes, that would work.

I told Jamal to stay where he was and keep his hands behind his back.  I didnt have to measure to know that his dick was already bigger and fatter than mine.  But that doesnt matter does it, since its just nigger meat, easily replaced, while mine is white cock, a masters dick.  I hefted his nigger prick in my hand, stroked it, used my left to squeeze his balls.  Leaned forward since he was only an inch or so shorter than me, began tongue fucking his mouth.  Just my mouth on his; nothing else touching except when his dick twitched and the head rubbed my belly.  I began giving his tits a work over...a thorough, rough, almost vicious work over...twisting, pulling, caressing, squeezing.  Nothing but tongue fucking and tit work until he began whimpering into my mouth louder and louder, panting, writhing while desperately trying to stay still, until at last he jerked his head back, looked at me with eyes almost blind with lust.  Begged me.  Please, massa, please, massa, fuck yo nigga boys teen pussy, hurt him, fuck him, let him suck your white cock, use yo nigga boy.

I did as he asked.  I fucking hurt his right tit, and slapped his left cheek.  Hard.  He gasped and started cumming.  I whirled him around, forced him down so he was bent over, holding onto the back of the couch, ripped my jeans open and crammed my dick in his hole.  He whimpered again, said Thank you, massa.

Little fucker was lubed.  Well trained, indeed.  Thank you, Li.

You like your white masters dick in your nigger bitch ho pussy?

God yes, massa!

Better than an old chink cock, huh?

Yes, massa!

I yanked my dick out of his cunt, leaving him gasping with surprise and dismay.  I turned to bark an order but the sound would have been wasted.  The other four were already in position, ready to have their pussies inspected, or fucked, or whatever their master chose to do to them.  I stripped.  Their cunts were well-lubed, too, as I learned when I fucked three of them for a few strokes.  DeShawn was a good cunt, taking me in her soft pussy not quite as easily as she wanted me to believe.  Yes, she and her.  I was already starting to think of him as feminine.  Darnell grunted when I shoved in him and his whimpers were more pain than anything else.  Tyrone...well, Tyrone looked hurt (because I didnt try out his pussy) and relieved (because I didnt try out his pussy).  Maurice was just what I expected.  A thoroughly trained, well-used, talented nigger mancunt eager to please its new massa.

But still, horny as I was...five nigger dicks, five nigger ass pussies, five nigger mouth pussies...and only one white man.  I needed help.  I knew where I could get it.  Or was fairly sure I could get it.  And getting it would also answer a question Id long wanted answered.

I opened the door and stepped into the hallway, hardon leading the way.  Thomas dropped jaw appeared only in the almost-hidden expression in his eyes.  Call Diego.  Both of you strip and come in.  Now!

I went back inside and played with my niggers.  It wasnt a long wait.  Boss.  Stiff. Strip.  Come in.  An easy equation to calculate.  After all this time guarding me not only in business meetings but while I was sexing other men, young men, little boys, they were going to get in on the action.  I didnt know if either of them had ever fucked with kids before, though they sure as fuck knew I did, but there was always Maurices cunt holes if they balked at boipussies.  

My bodyguards stopped just inside the door, which for some reason they locked.  Neither one was completely hard, but they were clearly heading in that direction, especially when they got a good look at me with four fingers inside Jamals teen ho cunt.  Asking them if they saw anything theyd be interested in fucking got them all the way hard.

Now to get my answer.  These are not blacks, gentlemen.  Theyre niggers, at least when theyre in my home or under my direct supervision.  I own them.  Theyre mine to use and abuse as I choose...a farewell gift from Chen Li.  I thought Id share this morning.  But first, I have a question.  Two, actually.

Both of them nodded as if giving me permission to ask...anything to hurry things along so they could get their dicks into nigger pussy.  Thomas, would you be interested in a new job?  Well, actually, an additional job with some perks.

Sure, boss.  Doing what?  He wasnt really paying attention.  I think he was eyeing DeShawns rump as he stroked his enormous meat.

Being my head nigger.

That fucking got his attention.  Along with the attention of everyone else in the room.  Diego was both shocked and bewildered.

Thomas was fucking furious.  In that moment, if any of my enemies had come knocking on the door, Uzi or whatever in hand, Thomas would have opened it, waved them in and pointed at me.  Im sure Diego knew I was having sex with Thomas.  Just like Thomas knew I sometimes had sex with Diego.  But the games, the mind games, Thomas and I played had been strictly secret.  Until now.  Until I outed Thomas.

I waited for my answer.  The answer to was he/wasnt he.  

If it was just a game, role playing because I wanted it, needed it, then hed laugh off his fury as a game, too.  Act embarrassed at having it found out that he was pretending to be a subservient nigger while having sex with his white boss.  Shrug it off, and end the games.  Possibly end the bodyguard job, too.

If it was real, hed answer as a good nigger should.

Turned out Thomas was a good nigger.  He glared at Diego one last time, daring him to judge, to diss him, and then bowed his head to me and said, Id like that, massa.

When it needs to, as it so often does in my line of work, my mind works quickly and well.

Good.  Youre in charge of these niggers.  Theyll be moving into the house this weekend.

Lawyer Maurices head snapped up at that.  Nigger Maurice backed off and bowed his head at the expression on my face.

I want the breeding program started again.  Maurice, did Li leave any instructions about going on with putting you out to stud?

Yes, massa.  He had me find some high quality nigger bitches.  Some we might have to kidnap, but with all of them, most of the women on both sides of their families bear males.  All beautiful, intelligent, talented in a variety of ways, or probably talented.  The youngest is six.  The oldest is fifteen.  The next oldest is thirteen.

Thomas, get the two oldest.  Bring them here, but only after you make sure theyll have quarters they cant leave.  Oddly enough, I suspect if we look around carefully, Chen Li will have thought of that already.  Virgins, Maurice.

So far as I know.

One of you find out.  And even if they arent its okay, as long as theyre not pregnant.  After you get them settled in, well rape them.  I get their cherries so they know whos in charge.  First the older one while the younger one watches.  We all wear condoms except Maurice.  Then the younger one.  Thomas, you get to bareback her.  After that Maurice and Thomas will keep on barebacking their bitches until we find out if either one is pregnant.  If neither gets pregnant on the first round, Jamal joins in and you work out a schedule where one of you fucks your ho at least once a day until its time to change fuckers.  I want to know who the father is when they do get pregnant.

Diego, you want me to get the littlest bitch?  You can have her, fuck her first, use her whenever you want.  On the other hand, youve got six niggers here to use.

Thomas raised his head.  Looked at me.  Six...massa?

Youre a nigger, Thomas.  We all know it.  When youre on duty youll get every bit of respect and cooperation youve always had from everyone, just like its always been.  Just as if you were white.  When youre off duty, youre just one of my house niggers.  The head house nigger, true, but that only makes you first among equals.  I fucking own you.  If I choose to squat over your face and shit in your mouth, I will.  If I choose to give my good Latino friend here the right to use you if he wants to, then youll gladly let him use you because you know its all youre really fucking good for.  Right, ho?

The pause before he said, Yes, massa, was just a nappy nigger hair too long.

I guess theres always some rebellious attitude after a regime change.  And for Thomas this was a major regime change.  But I sure the fuck wasnt going to tolerate the attitude.

You like sucking white dick, dont you, Thomas?  

Yassuh.

And having white dick in your nigger pussy, right?

Yassuh.

You ever been pissed on, nigger?

The fuck no was behind his eyes, the no, suh was all he said.

Drunk piss?

No, suh.

Would it humiliate you if people watched you being pissed on, made to drink piss, maybe even had someone piss in your ass after fucking you?

Once again, the oh god yes was in his eyes.  The yassuh was what he said.

So lets start with two out of three.  You know, I think it would be even more humiliating if some of the house niggers who answered to you got to use you for a toilet.  You think so, Diego?

Damn right, boss.  Id be fucking shamed if some goddamn nappy-headed nigger kid pissed on me, or his daddy did.

I answered Diegos grin with one of my own.

Any of my niggers have to piss?

Jamal eagerly said he did.  I think DeShawn had to but was too shy.  Both Darnell and Tyrone agreed they had to piss.  I could tell Maurice had a big load built up, but...perhaps wisely...said nothing.  I wasnt about to order them to piss on or in Thomas.  And from Thomas expression behind the stoic bodyguard/nigger mask I knew Thomas was remembering what the boys had yet to learn, but were undoubtedly about to learn.  Payback is a bitch.  And Thomas was head nigger.

Jamal strutted over, eager to ingratiate himself with me by helping me, he thought, humiliate an uppity nigger.

Thomas.  On your knees.  He didnt look at me, just whispered yassuh and dropped.

Jamal stopped in front of him.  Open your mouth, nigger.  I want to see you drink nigger piss.  Thomas did what he was told; his face absolutely calm.  The same kind of calm as just before he broke the legs of the assassin sent by one of my competitors...and then broke both wrists and both elbows and returned him in a body bag, albeit still breathing.  Sort of.

Jamal moved closer to his new urinal, paused to relax his muscles, and slowly started to piss in Thomas mouth.  Thomas let his mouth get full, closed it, swallowed, while Jamal kept on pissing, opened his mouth, repeated the process until the boy was done.

Darnell must have sensed something because he suddenly decided he didnt have to go after all.  Tyrone was fairly dancing with the need to piss, but also looked a little bit afraid of the huge man on the floor.  Thomas wasnt quite as tall as Maurice, but his sheer bulk made him look even bigger and taller than he actually was.  Thomas suddenly smiled, a condition Id always thought virtually impossible, as even sex was for him a serious business.  He said to Tyrone, very gently, You know, Ive always heard that little boys had the sweetest tasting piss of anyone.  Even better than their daddys piss.

He shot a sly look at me.  Why, Ive even heard someone say that little boy piss tastes better than a white mans piss.  He shook his head sadly.  But I guess Ill never know, cause Ive never tasted a little boys piss.

Tyrone grinned back at him.  An youre gonna taste Massa Johns piss, too, arent you?

Thomas clearly didnt need that almost teeth-gritting reminder, but he gamely forged ahead.  If Massa John wants to honor me that way, sure.  But could I taste yours?

Tyrone nodded.  

Thomas put on a puzzled expression.  Now how....  Youre so little and Im so big, Tyrone.  How are we gonna do this?

Tyrone thought a moment.  Silly.  I can stand up on the couch just like when Massa John was sucking my peepee.

What a smart boy!

Thomas picked him up by his waist, knee-walked to the couch and stood him on the arm.  He leaned over and told Tyrone, Now wait until I get my mouth around that big dick of yours and then you just pretend Im a toilet and go ahead and pee.

Thats exactly what they did.  Thomas swallowed every drop and licked the baby boy hardon-again clean.  Told him softly, like it was a secret that no one else could hear, even though we all could, I think youve got the best-tasting piss in the whole wide world, but we better not tell Massa John that.  We might hurt his feelings.

Tyrones proud smile lit up the room.  Hed just pissed in a human toilet like his big brother just did, like his white master was going to do.  He patted Thomas cheek and whispered back, Okay.

Thomas real kindness, not the hey-look-at-me-Im-doing-a-nice-deed version, almost won him a reprieve.  But I couldnt.  I was white; he was a niggerthe lowest form of life on earth, except maybe for the ragheads.  During working hours I paid him, and paid him well for all the services he was capable of providing, things even a nigger might have done for his owner.  Outside that, or temporarily off duty like now, his only use was as meat to be used according to his owners whims.  And my whim, my order, right now was that I needed a toilet.  My Latino thug needed a toilet.  Even my house niggers needed a toilet.  Tag!  He was it.

I wiped the Tyrone-kindled smile from my face.  Turned cold.  Made sure he saw it.  Understood.  Turned the same cold look on Diego.  Piss him, Diego.  On him, in him, I dont fucking care.  Hes a nigger toilet that needs to be used.  And the fucking carpet can always be replaced.

Crawl over here, bitch.  I dont feel like walking over to my urinal when it can come to me.

Thomas crawled, head down, every taut muscle in his body screaming his misery, his shame...his need, his fucking craving.  If he did this, he crossed the next to last line.  Everything would change between him and Diego.  Theyd been good friends.  Occasional fuck buddies.  Skilled professionals working together.  Once he swallowed his buddys piss everything was gone except for the skilled profession.  I was confident that on duty nothing would change; they were good enough; they had the kind of focus, concentration, whatever, to do their jobs and do it well, regardless of what they knew or thought might happen when they were off-duty.  But once the shift changed, for as long as I gave Diego the right, fuck-buddy Thomas was going to be nigger slut Thomas, whose holes were available for whatever use Diego dreamed up as long as my property wasnt damaged.

Head up, nigger.  I want my toilet looking at me while I use it.  And tomorrow, when we get off shift youre going to go clean your pussy out, lube it, come back to my room and beg me to fuck your worthless nigger ho cunt.  Right, boy?

He didnt answer aloud.  He just lifted his head, looked Diego in the eyes and opened his mouth.  Diego followed orders, too.  Pissed Thomas.  On him, all over him, in him, drenching his body, giving him several mouthfuls of bright yellow, hot piss to swallow.  Then Diego carefully shook off the last few drops into his toilet and stepped back.

My turn.  I looked down.  A new carpet was definitely in order.  Now to see if everything was in order with Thomas.

Last chance, Thomas.  You fucking know it is, as well as I do.  You can get up now, walk out the door, grab your clothes and go clean up.  Ill write you a check for $100,000 and you can walk away.  Ill make sure your reputation doesnt suffer and that you wont be short on work that requires your highest level of skill.  But if you walk, thats it.

Understand me, Thomas.  What I own, I fucking own.  I control it.  Control everything about it.  I can use the Rolls every day and three times on Sunday, or let it sit untouched for a year.  I can loan it out.  Hell, I can fucking rent the damned car out.  The only thing Ill require is that it comes back in pretty damned near the shape it was in when it left, and like they say, ordinary wear and tear excepted.  But once the car is gone, once I give it away, or sell it, or fuck, just let it head down a steep hill under its own power to whatever smashup it might encounter, that car is fucking gone.  I wont take it back, I wont buy it back, I wont repair it if I find it damaged along the side of a road.

I gestured to my other niggers who were all very, very still.  My other niggers understand all this, Thomas.  It was bred into Maurice, probably the first time his boicunt was used by his master.  How old were you, Maurice?

Four, massa.

Was he gentle?

No, massa.

Did he rape your virgin pussy?

Yes, massa.

Why?

Because it was all I was good for.  Because I was just nigger meat.  Because he could.  Because I made him do it, flaunting my fat lips, and my plump bottom, until he couldnt stand it any more and had to dick my cunt.

You see, Thomas?  Maurice understands.  No matter how powerful he is out in the work world, no matter how many women he dates to keep up appearances, no matter how many women he fucks, condom-covered, until they scream in ecstasy from his big cock and brag to their friends about getting fucked by him, once he hits the front door he knows that its all a sham, all a game hes playing, and that behind the door is his real world.  His nigger life.  Where hes happiest being used.

Hell, his boys even know it, though they probably cant explain it.  They started getting it bred into them the first time they took the head of Chens chink meat in their tiny baby mouths and sucked him off and swallowed and gurgled happily.  They learned most of the lesson the first time Lis prick shoved into their young pussies.  They learned the rest of the lesson the first time he let another man use them.  Jamal!

Yes, massa?

How old were you?

Six.

What did Master Li do?

Took....  His voice shook.  He paused.  Started again.  Took me to an adult bookstore.  Left me in the alley behind the store and told me to offer to suck any man who came by while he was inside.  Came out the back door with another man who held it open for him.  Stripped me naked and spanked me hard outside when I told him the two men who came by didnt want me.  That theyd just turned and left real quick.  Left my clothes in the alley.  Took me inside and told the man to take me to the room.

He...he walked me through the halls, up and down every one so all the men there could see the naked nigger boy trying not to grimace from the feel of the wet, sticky floor, not to struggle because of the smell.  Christ, the smell of liquor and cum and piss and sweat and poppers; the raunchy smell of horny men sexing each other.  I get hard thinking about it, harder the few times Master Li took me back there, once I understood, once I learned.

We finally got to the room.  I thought we were going in.  That Master Li would close the door, use me, and then let this other man use me, fuck one of my cunt holes since that was what master had told me was going to happen that day.  And then we could go home.

There was one of those big console TVs to the right of the door, with the thing for dropping tokens.  Opposite there was this big...fuck...couch?  bench?  About six feet wide, a couple feet deep, with a cushion or mattress covered in what looked like leather.  The whole wall behind the mattress was a mirror.  The ceiling was mirrored too.  I didnt realize it then, but when I was older and used again in that room, I knew they were good quality mirrors, kept clean except for the occasional cum or piss stains, so theyd provide sharp images.

Once Master turned up the dimmer so the lights were bright and the men saw me and understood why it wasnt the usual dim lighting for sex in those rooms, they werent at all shy.  Master Li told me the man whod let us in was the owner so Id better give him a good fuck.  He put me on my back, unzipped, pulled out his meat, dribbled spit on it a couple of times, bent his knees, lined his cock up with my cunt, shoved it in.  Id only had Master Lis cock in my cunt.  This white man was longer and fatter.  I screamed from the pain, over and over, but he ignored me and just started fucking me harder and harder.  I think I passed out for a little but when I came back, he was hunched over me, staring right into the mirror and I knew he was watching his fat white dick thrusting in and out of my black young nigger boy cunt.  And then he was grunting and saying oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck and I felt his hot cum spraying up inside me.

He held still for just a moment, then yanked his dick out, wiped it off with his hand and wiped his hand off on me.  Master asked him how I was and he said I was okay, but hed had better; that maybe hed come back later for another round and see if I improved with practice.

The rest of the time we were there is pretty much a blur.  I remember how most of the men wanted to fuck me, and always in positions where they could watch their dicks going in and out of my hole.  I gave a few blowjobs.  The only one I remember is a big hairy man with a shiny silver ring around his dick and balls who got naked and kneeled on the bench and told me to suck him.  He leaned back so he could watch me in the ceiling mirror and then look at the side mirror.  Finally he sat up straighter, grabbed the back of my neck with one huge hand, and then used that to face fuck my mouth and throat while he watched in the mirror, until finally he shoved his dick all the way into my throat and nearly choked me to death with his cum.

I remember really learning my place when Master let me have a break and gave me a drink of his piss from a bottle hed brought.  It was chilled when we left the house, but by then it was just kind of lukewarm.  After a couple of swallows he asked me if I knew what I was worth.  I shook my head no.  He opened a drawstring bag and emptied out a bunch of quarters and two dollar bills onto the bench.

He told me he thought I was a really good fuck, that I was valuable, that men would pay good money to fuck me even though I was just a nigger.  That there were other boys, white boys and dagos and kikes, who came in there and sold their pussies and the men lined up to use them.  How they paid good money.  One boy even got twenty bucks every time someone fucked him.  He really sounded disgusted when he told me that no one was willing to pay him more than a quarter for either of my holes.

I started crying in shame, babbling, pointing to the dollar bills to prove I was worth more than just a quarter.  Master Li cut me off and told there were only dollar bills because the men didnt have change.  And then he picked up another coin.  Held it up to my face.  You see this, you little shit?  A fucking nickel!  Thats all the cash he had on him, and he said from the looks of things he wasnt sure a nigger boy slut like you was worth even that much.

After...after that the only thing I remember was, for a while, hearing Masters voice announcing what each man was paying.  Quarter.  Quarter.  Quarter.  Fucking Goddamn Dime You Worthless Nigger Slut Boy!  Quarter.  Quarter.  Eventually I passed out, but they kept on fucking my pussy anyway.  The next thing I remember is being at home in my bed, propped up on pillows so my butt was at the edge, and Master was holding my legs up and wide while he ate out my cunt and swallowed all their cum.

I decided I was going to be the best nigger boy there ever was for Master Li.  But...but he had all these baby pussies to use, and he didnt use me as much, and Massa John, please, Im a really good slut, please dont just use the babies.  Please, use me, too.

He was crying at that point.  But he didnt look like he expected comforting; Li had bred these niggers well.  Jamal knew hed get used if and fucking when I decided he would.

I turned back to Thomas.  Last fucking chance.  You cross this line and youre mine forever...or until I get tired of you and dispose of you.  Like the man says, my way or the highway.  Choose, Thomas.

No fucking hesitation.  Tears in his eyes, but still, not a nanosecond.  You, massa.

Why?

 cause Im jus a fuckin nigga cunt whore who needs to be owned, to be bossed, to be used.

Whatre you going to get out of this?

Nothin, massa, nless you let me.

And what kind of slut are you gonna be tomorrow, when you go to Diegos room?

Fines kine, best nigga bitch ho he evah had, boss.  Give him the fines fuckin damn ride he ever had in my nigga cunt.

And what if youre on a lunch break or something similar, and Diego wants you to drop trou and give you a quick fuck.

He thought about that for a moment.  And then his professional voice, not his house nigger voice, was back.  Not a fucking chance in hell, sir.  Break or not, were on the clock.  He tries anything like that, Ill break his fucking arm, rip his balls off and shove them in his spic mouth.

Everyone in the room knew that wasnt role-playing.  That was a statement of pure, unadulterated fact from a man who had killed before, would kill again if he needed to, and let nothing, but fucking nothing, get in the way of his mission...whether it was taking out an Afghani warlord, rescuing an Army major friend from the insurgents just west of Baghdad and in the process blowing away an important leader and ten of his top men (which good old Dubya claimed credit for), or just protecting my ass.

And he was all mine.  My head house nigger.  My nigger pussy.  My cum whore slut.  My toilet.  Back now where he belonged, submissive nigger on his knees waiting for massa to use him.

I obliged him.  Actually, obliged myself since I needed to piss wicked bad.

Good buddy Diego was right, nigger.  Portable toilets need to crawl where theyre needed.  I need one over here.

He crawled again, eagerly this time. Knelt, got his head in the right position, opened his mouth wide.  Time for a small test.

You assumed, nigger.  What if I need to shit?

Instant panic.  A huge fucking flare of it in his eyes.  But I dont give a fuck whats in a niggers eyes, just what he says and does.  Then Ise gonna eat yo hot white shit, ah guess, massa.

Christ, it killed him to say that.

Hell, it killed me to suggest it.  Ive got no problem with piss play, Ive just never done a lot of it.  The future looked like it was going to hold a lot more of it, though.  But scat?  Maybe Im a wimp but the idea of it causes my hardon to go south for a long vacation.  Even the really good writers of pedo stories on Perverts R Us who get me stroking with hot pedo action kill the action the moment the baby boy starts eating shit, whether he loves it or not.  So, yeah, my head nigger was going to learn to be a highly talented toilet...for piss.

But still.  I knew something now that not only terrified but sickened him.  Maybe the ultimate humiliation.  Save it for a time when he really pissed me off.  When he needed what would be for him the ultimate degradation, the ultimate demonstration of what a worthless piece of nigger trash he was, unless his master chose to give him worth.

I let him see the idea on my face.  Let him understand that I could and fucking would do it.  To put him in his place if he ever got out of it again.

What I got back from his eyes was a confident smirk.  He was Thomas.  The best fucking merc on the planet.  The best fucking goddamn bodyguard on the planet.  The best fucking head nigger bitch slut cum ho pussy on the planet.  No fucking way was he ever going to fuck up that bad.

Except....

Except there was just this little flicker around the edges, like something you cant quite see with peripheral vision but you know its there or was there only a second ago.  A still, soft voice saying, I wont fuck up.  I know I wont.  But Christ!  What if I do....

Open your mouth, toilet.

Thomas did and I put my stiff meat right down his throat.  He swallowed and took it all.  Held very still.  Fortunately, I can piss with a hardon...okay a 99% stiff dick, so maybe not technically a hardon.  But still...I relaxed just a little, just enough and began pissing directly down his throat.  I patted Thomas nigger head, smooth and shiny, caressed it a little, you know, just like you would a dog that was being good and needed praise.  My head nigger swallowed every drop.  Then the bastard began massaging my sensitive knob with his throat muscles, working me with his lips and his tongue.  Ready to be very surprised and hurt if I challenged him because all he was doing was cleaning massas dick like a good nigger should after his massa uses his worthless nigger mouth for a toilet.

I pulled out, let them all see I was back to full hard, leaking.  Started playing with myself, just lightly stroking.  Let them know they should do the same.  Looked around.

Four nigger boys with hardons, and well lubed pussies.  A nigger daddy with a huge fucking cock and a lubed pussy.  My even bigger...in every fucking way, including dick size...head nigger.  With a dry pussy.  A spic bodyguard temporarily off duty and eager to plug his fat Latino meat into some hole, any hole.  And the white man running the fucking show, just as he should.

Nigger daddy, you ever fuck any of your kiddy cunts besides your oldest slut?

Nosuh, massa.

How old was Jamal when Master Li had you rape his unworthy nigger boicunt?

Ten, massa.

Well, thats close enough for DeShawn.  Rape his nigga boipussy, Maurice.  Get that fat hurting cock of yours into his cunt and then just hold still.

So we watched while a big-dicked nigger daddy forced his meat into nine-year-old boyhole, jacked and leaked and played with ourselves while the kid cunt got the first taste of rape.  DeShawns little girl-boy pussy was used to Lis dick; my few strokes earlier were painful but didnt loosen him up all that much.  He screamed and begged and tried to get away.  He sounded like every little girl Id ever rammed my dick into.  Maurice finally got all the way in and DeShawn slumped beneath his daddy, panting and whimpering.

Diego, I know you want to use my head nigger, but have you ever had young cunt?  Like, say, a six-year-old nigger boy with a tight lubed pussy?

I could tell he was going to be having some new jackoff fantasies after that idea settled in.  Not that hed need to jack off much any more.  My head nigger might be off limits while they were on duty.  But all that nigger boy cunt was going to be regularly available.  Diego obviously liked the idea.  His piss slit oozed precum.  I made a suggestion.  Offered him little Darnell to rape.  Same deal as Maurice, plunder his ass, show him what he was good for and all he was good for, and then stop.

Diegos meat was somewhere around Jamals size, maybe just a little smaller, but still bigger than me.  Maybe dick size matters in other queer contexts, but when youre a white pedo master with your own matched set of house niggers, its the power that counts.

Diego sat on the couch, leaned back with his legs spread so we could all see.  As ordered, Darnell scrambled up like hed been told.  Diego laid the nigger kid back, his head resting on Diegos left shoulder.  Diegos left arm was wrapped around the boys belly, holding him in place for now.  Using his right to hold his dick still while he lined it up with the tight pussy, the six-year-old cunt that had never had anything close to the size of Diegos dick up inside it.

Jamal, like a good nigger brother who cares, stepped in to help his little brother with his first rape.  He helped Diego get his knob pressed right into the little boy cunt, then Jamal grabbed his young brother by the hips and yanked him down just hard enough to get the whole huge knob buried inside his boicunt.  Darnell howled.  And howled some more as Jamal held the Latin thug dick in place, guiding it as Diego put his hands on the little ones shoulders and forced his meat into the howling, thrashing little boys cunt.  When it was in, that left two empty boyholes.

I knew Jamal was eager to have his new massa use him, but there was plenty of time for him later.  He needed to start learning the lesson Thomas was about to start teaching him.   I told him to go to the far end of the couch, bend over so he was looking at Diego and Darnell, and hold onto the arm.  I nodded Thomas in the same direction.  He got up and stalked over like the predator he was.  I watched Jamals eyes glaze over in a combination of horror and lust when he got his first really good like at Thomas cock.  Poor Jamal had never had anything that big in his cunt.  And I knew just the thing to help.

Well, help Thomas.  And me, since Id get extra pleasure as well.  Thomas, Jamal likes to be hurt.  Give him a few strokes to show him what hurt really is.

It was apparently enough.  I didnt think Jamals eyes could have opened any wider after seeing Thomas cock, but the expression on Thomas face, hidden from the rest of us, sure caused them to widen even further.

The adults saw the cold, hard expression on Thomas face as he turned around, briefly used his right hand to position his cock at Jamals hole, leaned forward to rest his forearms on the edge of the arm so he could angle them up and grab the teen niggers tits.  First he hurt the boys tits, ensuring they would be tender and bruised the next day and for a good while after, and then he fucked his cock into the teen cunt without the slightest mercy or tenderness.  When Jamals shrill scream had stopped echoing in the room and faded into sobs, Thomas raised his head to look at his new master.

Very good, nigger.  Once again my voice carried all the affection of one praising a dog who was just going to hear blah-blah-blah and maybe understand the word good.

I grabbed Tyrone off the floor, casually laid him belly down on the opposite arm from Thomas and Jamal, his little legs dangling and kicking.  I spanked his ass hard, and if his skin had been white Im sure it would have turned bright red.  Except for his own sobs when I stopped, joining his brothers, the room was mostly quiet.  I spread his plump butt cheeks wide, and because I really am a nice man at heart, I generously leaned over and spat twice into his hole.  I hoped that was enough together with whatever lube hadnt been absorbed into his body to make it easier on him.  But not too easy.

This wasnt love.  This wasnt sex.  It was still a white man doing what he does best, what he was born and bred to do, what he had an absolute right to do...rape young nigger cunt.  So I did.  I followed the example of my head nigger and shoved my dick into his raw, aching boipussy.  Ignored his wails, his tears, his incoherent pleas to stop, that his bottom hurt. 

Told the others to go ahead with their own rapes.  Because thats what it was.  A revenge rape for Thomas for the humiliation by Jamal.  Just ordinary adult male, tiny young nigger boy cunt rape for Diego and Maurice. Neither one had ever had cocks that size in their holes, and they were indeed in severe pain, which the men properly ignored.  I wasnt going to wait as Li had done.  I wanted my nigger boys used to big cocks in their cunts, both mouth and ass, as soon as possible.  Once Darnell got used to his daddys dick so it wasnt painful to be fucked any more, Im going to turn him over to Thomas and start the pain-pleasure process all over again.  There are men in my business, and the society in which I deal...I could think of two Senators, a governor, and a local cop happily married with four little girls...who would be eager to use my niggers.  Especially the young ones.

Both Tyrone and DeShawn seemed to have passed out.  Not that that detracted from the enjoyment...just loosened their pussies a bit and made it easier to get in farther, fuck them faster.  Maurice was close enough that I could lean over to him and whisper as we rape-fucked his children, Breed me a nigger baby boy quickly, and you can have Tyrones pussies for 24 hours, starting the moment my new nigger gets his butt slapped and screams.

Fuck, yes, massa!  And Maurice started pumping his poor worn out sons raped asshole even faster, as if it was a real pussy that he could impregnate.

I dont know what level of heaven I was in.  107th?  207th?  Within less than twenty-four hours Id gone from being an ordinary white trash pedo with a lust for little boys that was only occasionally filled to the owner of six niggers who would devote the rest of their lives, or until I tired of them and gave them away or sold them, to pleasing me.  The right to rape this almos four baby boy cunt until he got used to my dick and then it was just ordinary rough pedo sex.  Three handsome bucks to breed me more boys, or maybe a girl to grow up to breed more.  Fuck, ten months from now I could be the proud owner of my own nigger baby, able to raise him as nigger boys should be raised, sucking their daddys dicks almost from the moment they suck their first bottle of milk.  Milk laced with daddy cum.

Jamals eyes were dead.  He no longer saw or heard anything.  Just felt the incredible cock in his cunt pounding it into mush, heard the vicious degrading words spewing into his ears from Thomas talented lips, grinding him down, reinforcing his status as property, a nigger owned by a white man who was going to let a head nigger abuse him, hurt him, whenever the head nigger wanted to.  Cum, nigger! I told Thomas.  One more thrust, a second, and on the third he slammed in, knocking Jamal sprawling flat over the arm of the sofa, Thomas back arched, his head thrown back, every muscle taut as he pumped his nigger slime into nigger teen cunt while he yelled out, Yessuh, massa, thank you , massa!

Darnell had passed out, too, probably from too many dry cums to count, his body loosely flopping, his mouth sagging open and drooling as Diego punched fucked his first six-year-old nigger cunt.  It definitely wasnt going to be his last.  Cum, Diego!

His yo! massa! was sardonic, proof to the niggers that as a free man he could pretend...like Thomas had believed all this time he was merely pretending...and then when the fuck was done, walk away from it.  When he finally finished shuddering, gasping for breath as much if not more than Thomas...whoever said rape wasnt hard work sure as fuck never tried it...he sagged back into the couch.

DeShawn was awake, though, as his daddy fucked him.  Taking daddys long fat nigger dick with as much ease as a woman might with a cunt designed by nature for the job.  He was begging his daddy to rape his little girl cunt hard and fast, and daddy obliged, finally blowing a load in her sated pussy.

My turn.  I braced my hands on the arm of the sofa for leverage.  Told Maurice to reach over and hold his youngest boy down so I didnt have to worry about anything but raping his hurting, painful kiddy cunt.  When Id reduced him to quivering incoherent pleading, I gave him the supreme gift.  White mans cum.  His owners cum.

The room smelled of piss and cum and sweat and general raunch.  Best fucking goddamn scent combination in the world.  I looked around.  My dick wasnt out of my boys pussy; none of the others were either.  Amazing what nigger boy pussy can do for your staying power.  I was still hard.  They all recognized the question I asked with my eyes, and nodded yes to indicate they were hard as well.

Then lets rape their little nigger cunts again.

We each handled...manhandled...our nigger meat into a different position for a different feel, some of us regretfully having to remove a cock from its warm wet, somewhat bloody, cummy hole, before plunging back in.  The boys were limp now, unresisting, all the fight gone out of them, though their ability to feel pain was still there, just a little bit numbed from what theyd already gone through.

As we each settled into a steady rape-fuck pace, I almost laughed aloud, but kept it to myself.  When I signed the check that bought this place I sure the fuck got more than I bargained for.

I looked down to watch my white cock rapidly stroking in and out of not-quite-four nigger boy pussy.  And I leaned down to whisper the words of deep affection a white man gives to one of his niggers.  Youre a nigger cunt, little boy.  I fucking own you.  Youre worthless trash who isnt of any use to anyone except as a hole for a white mans piss and cum, or any other man your owner gives you to.  Youre meat.  Youre property.  And youre going to love everything I do to you, going to love me with all your useless nigger heart and soul, because thats your place in the world.  And if you dont understand all of this, yet...well, you will.  And soon.  

I gave him a few extra hard thrusts and he whimpered.  Would you like to do something nice for your master, Tyrone.  Show Massa John how much you love him?

He barely managed a nod.

Beg me, Tyrone.  Beg me to please, please rape your nigger boy pussy.

I could hear the tears in his voice as he whispered back, Pease, massa.  Pease rape my nigger boy pussy.

Louder, Tyrone.  My other niggers didnt hear you.  I squeezed his plump little tits hard again, adding to the bruising.

He screamed and then nearly shouted, Pease, Massa!  Pease, pease rape my nigger boy pussy.

A good white master always pleases his niggers.  Whenever possible.  If it doesnt inconvenience him.  If what they want is reasonable.

Tyrones request was reasonable.  It was possible since my dick was already in his hole, which was very convenient.  I proved to Tyrone what a good massa I am.

I raped his baby nigger boy cunt long and hard.

