A Black-Ruled World Pt. 01

You are seething. There should not have been a punishment at all, but you try to get it over with so you can get back to what matters. "Thanks," you say, trying to edge past him.

"Wait, what's the rush, let me make it up to you!" he interjects.

"No thanks, I am a bit busy at the moment," you spit out.

"Just hear out my offer. I am at this school to look at perspective slaves to buy. Looking past your little outburst, I think you have what it takes."

Buy you? He wants to BUY you? "No. Thank. You. Now if you excuse me I have a very important date."

"Date?" he asks. Shit. "Who is this date?"

"Nobody. I lied," you try to tell him. He grabs you by the collar and holds you still.

"Listen," he tells you, "My slaves receive the best treatment out of all the whites in this country. If you have some little girlfriend then I would be happy to buy her up too."

"Well I don't have any little girlfriend and I quite enjoy the simple life thank you very much," you insist.

"Is that so," he raises an eyebrow, "That's strange. I hear rumors. Rumors from certain friends of yours that you are very fond of a certain birthday girl. Oh well, since you insist that you have no romantic ties then I will feel no guilt when the football team and I fuck every single one of her virginal little holes."

"Don't you fucking dare lay a finger on her!" you yell. Harry smacks you and throws you to the ground.

"I do what I want. By the time I am done with you, white boy, you will be on your knees, begging me to fuck her." With that he walks away. Your cheek stings and the fall bruised your hip, but it doesn't slow you down. Outside you run as fast as you can to Victoria's house. You have less time than you thought. You arrive at her house and knock on the door.

"Sorry, Victoria is sick right now, please come back tomorrow!" you hear her mom shout from the other side of the door.

"It's only Elliot!" you shout back. Her mom answers the door, wearing nothing but an untied robe. You avert your eyes and try to suppress your arousal.

"Come in, quickly," she says, pulling you by the arm into the house and shutting the door behind you. "Listen, Victoria is really taking her eighteenth birthday hard. I know you're close friends with her, so I want you to convince her to stop moping around and get it over with. I know back in my day I was popular like her, and I shared her fears, but once the gangbang started the pain quickly turned into ecstacy. She doesn't believe me, obviously. She is always going on about how that's what all moms say and that Stacy said it hurt blah blah blah. I thought it would be best that she gets encouragement from a friend." You take a moment to process her ramblings.

"But I'm not a girl, I don't know about that kind of stuff," you tell her shyly.

"Oh, come on now, you're telling me that you haven't been in your fair share of gangbangs?" she asks. You flush red.

"No! Of course not," you explain.

"Hm. I always took you for a faggot. I guess looks aren't everything. She is upstairs in her room. If you'll excuse me, I have to keep Jakob preoccupied all day, so he isn't tempted to go up there and steal her virginity himself haha." With that, she wipes a bit of white fluid out of the corner of her mouth and retreats back into the living room portion of the house. You go upstairs and wait a second outside her door for your boner to settle down before you knock.

"Mom! For the last time I am not practicing on your dildos! I don't want to practice at all! I don't care if it will 'make it easier.' I just want it to be over as quickly as possible," shouts your crush through the door.

"It's not your mom, just me," you say with a small crack in your voice.

"Oh, Elliot? What are you doing here?" she asks. You begin to open the door.

"I was coming to help-" but your voice stops when you see Victoria quickly pulling her blankets up to her chin. You didn't see anything lewd, but the suggestion that she might be naked under there is enough to bring you to full mast. You make for the nearest chair in the room and sit down hopefully before she notices. That's when you see the large black dildos on her bedside table, blissfully dry and unused.

"You shouldn't barge in like that," she scolds with embarrassment in her voice, "I wasn't expecting you..." You offer to leave while she dresses but she makes a shrugging motion and says that this is fine if you're just here for a quick chat as she wraps the blankets around her like a dress, leaving only her shoulders and arms exposed.

"I want to save you," you tell her, "From all... this." You make an exaggerated gesture towards the dildos.

"I appreciate the thought but you don't think people have tried that before? How exactly would you propose that?"

"I can hide you. Until my friend comes, then I can take you back to..." you consider telling her about your alternate dimension, but then decide that everything would be ruined if she doesn't believe you. "...back to someplace else. Where the rules are different."

"And how long would your friend take? The second a fresh meat like me goes missing they will search for me all over the place. Considering you're one of my best friends, your house would be searched in days. And once I am found, you will lose a hand, or worse. And me? God knows what will happen to me." You feel defeated.

"I don't know when my friend will arrive..." you say.

"You really want to help me?" she asks grabbing one of the black dildos off the table, "Teach me how to deepthroat. I've never practiced before and tasting my own vomit tomorrow is somehow worse than practicing now."

"...I thought you said you didn't want to practice on your mother's dildos?" you said with a worry in your voice.

"Well not... down there. There isn't much benefit to practicing down there. It is going to hurt either way. Stacy said so. However, there is a lot of benefit to not vomiting all over myself when they shove their cocks down my throat. And I would feel a lot more comfortable practicing with someone I trust."

"I don't know..." you say.

"Listen, I know you like me. I tell my mother you're gay just so I can be around you more. If you help me, I might be willing to reward you with a kiss," she tells you.

"Fine. I will help. But I've never done it before so I don't know how you expect me to," you tell her.

"C'mon. You telling me a boy as smart as yourself hasn't heard some trick somewhere?" You think for a moment.

"Make a fist and squeeze your thumb, it suppresses the gag reflex," you tell her begrudgingly. "Now can I have my reward?"

"Nuh uh," she says, "You have to actually help me practice." She hands you a dildo. Like the rest of the dildos, it is larger than what you've got in your pants. "Hold my hair back and shove my face onto the dildo. I need to get used to not having control. Start out slow." You're about to stand up to walk over to her then you realize your boner hasn't gone away and you sit back down. "It's okay. I noticed it when you walked in. It is only natural that white guys with no release get them so often. There's no need to be embarrassed. In a way, it is cute."

You struggle to think about what she meant by "cute" as you awkwardly and embarrassedly walk over to her with the dildo. Standing over her, you pull back her hair in your free hand. She looks up at you with an open mouth and this view of her makes your stiffy struggle even harder for freedom. You guide the tip of the dildo into the mouth you so desperately yearn to kiss and push her head slowly down onto the dildo. You see her hand tighten into a ball shortly before she gags. You pull her head slightly off but then ease it back down onto the dildo. She makes it a couple centimeters farther before she gags again as her eyes start to water and you pull back. You repeat this process a few more times and she seems to be getting the hang of it when you hear footsteps outside the door. Victoria's eyes widen and you distractedly push her down too far and she starts vomiting. You pull the dildo out but it is too late and she spews all over your hand and a bit on your shirt.

In the doorway is her mom with a gleeful expression. She runs up to you and embraces you as your face is buried deep in her cleavage. "Thank you so much for convincing Victoria to practice," she says. "Of course, I can't expect a straight boy to teach her to deepthroat properly," she tells you. "I can take it from here. Thanks for your help, Elliot."

"But Mom! It was going fine until you fucked it up," she pleads.

"Hush. Mother knows best, especially when it comes to dick. You'll progress much faster with my methods. Run along, Elliot, we have some clean up to do." Victoria gives you one last sad look as you are escorted out the room. The last thing you notice before leaving the house is the gooey whiteness running down her mom's thigh.

You stroll through the park considering the best course of action. You think about climbing through her window and whisking her away in the middle of the night. Suddenly, a black woman sitting on a bench calls you over. She is wearing running shorts and a tank top, revealing her body to be both curvy and athletic. Sweat beads down her skin as she drinks from a bottle of water.

"I'm tired," she says, "Give me a foot rub. And make it good." Having no real choice in the matter, you kneel in the grass and untie her shoes. Removing them, you instantly smell her sweaty socks. She must have been running for a while. Black stamina and all that. You begin peeling back her socks while she texts on her phone, not paying any attention to you.

As you rub her hot, sweaty feet, you think back to what your friend was saying earlier this morning. He is right; the girls in this world get it so much better than the guys. They provide sexual service to the men while the white boys are forced to do labor or some unpleasant task like foot rubs. You almost envy the sexual release they get on a regular basis. You've been horny all day, watching everybody else have sex, while the only sexual contact you've received is shoving your tongue down someone's asshole.

You consider the attractive woman before you. She certainly has one of the sexiest bodies around, and her jogging outfit leaves just enough to the imagination. She is just texting on her phone, ignoring you. Maybe if you rub one out really quickly to the sight of her she won't notice. You test the waters by only using one hand to rub her feet. She shows no reaction. Do you dare attempt it?

Fuck it. You're a sexually frustrated teenage boy who has had a stressful day full of boners and angst. You deserve some revenge on these black masters, even if it is only in the form of secretive voyeuristic masturbation. You quietly unbutton your pants with one hand and pull out as much as you dare of your boner. You begin stroking it, looking at her breasts, her hips, her thighs, her lips, letting your imagination run wild. You don't know how long you can keep it up before you burst...

"Why the fuck you only rubbin' with one hand?" she asks as she looks up and her eyes go wide. "Oh hell naw. I didn't ask you to rub my feet so you can get off on your weird-ass foot fetish." She kicks you in the face and, although it wasn't very forceful, you go tumbling backwards with your erect dick in your hand. "Get your dick out of your hand," she commands. You obey.

In moments she is standing above you. She puts the sole of her foot in your face and begins smothering you, grinding it hard like she was trying to squash a bug. "Is this what you wanted you fucking pervert? You lucky I have a soft spot for pretty white kids otherwise I'd bust yo fuckin' ass."

You shout a muffled "No!" and beg her to stop. "Kiss my foot and say you're sorry," she orders. You don't hesitate to kiss her sole and profusely apologize. "And this is to remind you never to do it again," she says, giving you a swift kick in the balls. You grab your crotch and roll over into the fetal position. She then yells at you to be on your way and you awkwardly waddle away in pain while trying to rebutton your pants.

Next to the park there is a small forested wood where, at least in your dimension, teenagers often hung out. This dimension was no different. As you were walking by, still with a deep ache in your crotch, a girl calls to you. You turn to see someone you can only describe as a punk, or maybe a goth would be more appropriate? Either way, she was definitely one of your classmates, one you recognize.

"You. I've been watching you," she says, "And not in a creepy way, either. I can see something in you. I can see you want revolution, too." Revolution? Did she say revolution? That was exactly what you had hoped for. Maybe they even had a way to hide Victoria!

"I know you have no reason to trust me but listen," she continues, "You've seen firsthand the way that wealthy blacks get special treatment. You've seen the way that Harry gets to fuck anyone at any time. I've seen it from the other way around, too. There is this black master who I am absolutely in love with. He is just so handsome and charming, and his cock is simply orgasmic. The only issue is that he is poor. His family can't afford to buy me. So every day the rich kids at school gangbang me to tease him. They threaten to buy me just to piss him off. Every time I cum on their thick, masculine cocks I feel a tinge of sadness that I can't be orgasming on his cock instead. I want to put a stop to this class-based society. I want a world where my love can own me and fuck me all day long. Think about it. Are we really doing our duty as white slaves if our black masters are still burdened by their economic woes?"

It takes a second for the disappointment to settle in when you realize that she is talking about a communist revolution, not a revolution of slaves. You take a deep sigh and decide to play along on the off chance you can use this to your advantage. "Listen, let's say I could help, but first I'd want you to help me hide someone from the black masters, would you be willing to assist me?" She contemplates your offer before saying, "I see. My love might be able to arrange something off the grid, but I will need to talk to him about it first. Come find me tomorrow night at midnight right here. If time is of the essence, then bring your friend along too. Until then, however, it's gonna be up to you to keep them safe. My name's Cynthia, by the way."

She extends her hand and you shake it. You think about the uncertainty of how you'll keep Victoria safe until tomorrow night. "I'm Elliot. I look forward to doing business."

You return home to eat and waste time before it is late enough for you to steal Victoria in the middle of the night. After a nice meal, as you're gathering any supplies you think might be necessary, a familiar light returns to greet you with a familiar ethereal voice.

"Sorry I took so long. Technical difficulties. Listen, this is a one way communication so don't bother speaking, just listen. This thing is going to take at least five days, probably a week, maybe a little bit longer if you're unlucky. Keep your head down and don't do anything to get you hurt or killed. I know it may be tempting to change things here, but this isn't your universe and it isn't your place to meddle in their politics. These people here aren't your friends, they're alternate dimension versions of your friends. You have swapped places with the you from this dimension and we are currently working on getting you swapped back, but in order for that to happen we need time. So please, be patient..." And with that the voice faded away. You become more optimistic by the second. So all you have to do is kidnap your crush without anybody noticing, hide her in your house until you can run away with the communists, then stay low until you can ask the person behind all this to bring you two back to your original dimension. As you run through this in your head you realize how convoluted, crazy, and frankly impossible it sounds and you deflate a little. One wrong move and you'll get much worse than a kick to the balls.

You finish your preparations go out to Victoria's house.

It is pitch black outside and you are throwing rocks at Victoria's window. After a few good tosses a light comes on. You see shadows dance across the wall and guess that she is putting on clothes. Eventually she opens the window and squints down at you with a frown. You make a shushing motion and toss up a rope of bed sheets tied together. She rolls her eyes and disappears for a moment before giving you a thumbs up to start climbing.

You reach the top with your arms struggling and she helps pull you in. "Has my prince returned to rescue me from my tower?" she teases. "Or maybe he has only come for his kiss? I would expect nothing more from a man." You chuckle at her humor.

"It is the first one, my fair maiden, but the second one couldn't hurt either. I found a place for you to hide," you tell her.

"Really? Where? Is it dangerous? I don't want you getting hurt just because I am too much of a pussy to go to my fresh meat gangbang. I promise I will only need to hide until everybody forgets about my birthday and I can go back to school like normal. I will just shave my head or something and hope nobody recognizes me." You laugh at such a ridiculous thought.

"Where we are going you won't need to shave anything. You won't need to worry about fresh meat gangbangs or unwanted sex at all. I am taking you to the place I was born, where whites can refuse the orders of a black." She looks confused and scared.

"You want to take me across the border? Are you nuts? I am not getting killed just to avoid a gangbang," she insists.

"It isn't like that. It's..." you try to formulate an explanation that doesn't sound insane. Suddenly there is a voice from the other side of the door.

"Victoria, what are you doing up so late? Go to bed. You have a big day tomorrow." It's her mother.

"Yes mom," Victoria says, guiding you back to the window. "I'm sorry," she whispers, "Don't do anything stupid. Just be there to support me and it will mean more to me than anything in the world." She helps you out onto the windowsill and gives you an apologetic look as you descend. She throws the makeshift rope down and you return home having failed Plan A. It is only once you are safely under your covers and trying to get some much needed rest that you realize you forgot your kiss.

You arrive at school the next day weary from the lack of sleep. As you enter the concourse you are greeted by a large crowd. You push through to see what's going on. Some sort of fight? No, in the middle is a ring where a row of especially buff black men are being sucked off. You watch for a minute. All kinds of girls are servicing their hung cocks. Short girls, busty girls, Asian girls, skinny girls, you name it. Whenever one of the black men has had their fill, they just push the girl away and another one from the crowd runs to take their place.

"What is going on here...?" you mutter.

Kyle startles you with a clap on the shoulder. "Isn't it obvious? They're fluffers. The football team gets first dibs in the gangbang." That's right, the gangbang! You have to find Victoria before it is too late. But the doors creak open and the whole crowd turns to look. It is her. She looks nervously at the ground, nervous, afraid. You try to get to her but the crowd is thick and everybody is trying to get a look. She is wearing canvas shoes, fishnet stockings, tight and ripped shorts that showed off the shape of her bottom, and a loose punk rock t-shirt that hangs off her shoulders and is tied in a knot at her waist. Her hair has been pulled back into a ponytail. You are unfamiliar with this universe so you can't help but wonder, is this the trending fashion for gangbangs? Did her mom make her wear this?