Tyrone in Alabama

By Hank M

Published on Feb 25, 2023

Gay

Tyrone in Alabama

by Master Redbeard r+e+d+b+e+a+r+d+e+d at yahoo dot com

See Part One for intro to story and disclaimers.

And SUPPORT NIFTY ARCHIVES! If they weren't around, this story (and so many others) would exist only on my computer!

PART TWO

Officer Worthing escorted me to his father's house. I was dressed in the clothes I had worn to school the morning of my arrest, but with my hands cuffed behind my back. I swear the Captain was rubbing his hands together and licking his lips when I was brought in. He was looking at me like I was a box of chocolates and he was a starving man.

"What plans have you made to keep the detainee safely on the premises, sir"" the policeman said as if he was reading from a script.

"Well, I can't put locks on all the doors and windows. Only thing I could think is we take away Tyrone's clothes. Not so likely to make a run for it if he's bare-assed naked." He turned to me and snapped, "Strip, boy."

I suppose it was expected. I peeled off my t-shirt and slipped out of my sneakers and socks. It was mortifying. As far as I was concerned at that point I was a straight boy. It was clear to me that these two older white guys were queer for my body. But they had the power to make me undress in front of them. As I dropped my jeans I wondered how much further they would take their power.

"You wanna let him keep his underpants for now, Captain" Don't want him showing off that black dick of his," the cop said, even as his hand outlined the erection in his own pants.

"Not those boxers," the Captain exclaimed with amusement. "Too easy for him to walk out and pretend they're swim trunks." I looked down at myself. Nobody would see my striped boxers as anything but underpants. He motioned toward my one bag of belongings and told me to find a pair of white briefs to wear.

Of course I had to pull down one pair of underpants and pull up the other with both white men watching me. I felt like I was putting on a strip show for them.

Once they had me down to just my white briefs, I felt like my body was shaking. When would the next shoe drop? I think they wanted to tease me. And I know they wanted to make me feel like a servant in this house. I was taken to the kitchen and instructed on how to make coffee, how to mix the Captain's cocktails, where to put the trash, how to wash the pile of dirty dishes that had been left there. All these things were shouted at me from both directions. As soon as the young cop had me over the sink cleaning out the garbage disposal, Captain Worthing shouted for me to climb up on the stepladder to get down the good glasses from a top shelf.

As I was stretching my arm to get the glasses, the two men below me pulled down the back of my briefs and smacked my exposed ass, laughing together. I dropped a glass and all hell broke loose. "Do you know how much that glassware costs, boy" Do you know what it would cost me to replace that one glass so I have a complete set again, boy" No of course you don't know. You ignorant little...." I had both big white men yelling at me as I was down on my knees trying to wipe up the broken glass without cutting my hand.

Once he was satisfied that the floor was cleaned, the Captain grabbed the back of my neck, made me stand and then pushed me upstairs. When I saw we were in his bedroom, I couldn't breathe. This was it. What would come next?

He pointed to a big wooden piece of furniture beside the fireplace and told me to bring it to the center of the room. I had never seen anything like it and I could tell it was very old. It was sort of like a table with levers to adjust the height of different parts, and odd attachments at both ends of it. When I went to move it, I realized the wood was quite heavy.

As I stood facing what I thought was the back of this heavy table, the big cop got down behind me. He was attaching each of my ankles to the two back legs of this thing that the Captain had called a horse. Then he stood up and pushed me chest down across the wooden top. Captain Worthing grabbed both of my wrists and quickly snapped each into cuffs on the front legs of the horse. I pulled at my arms and my legs and realized I was truly secured down to this odd table.

Then the Captain opened a cabinet on the wall and I saw an assortment of punishment devices: whips and cats, floggers and canes, straps and belts. I was trying to form words. This couldn't be legal. They couldn't think they could get away with this. And yet, here I was helpless. These two white men had a straight black teen boy stripped to briefs and chained down to a punishment horse, while they examined different belts and straps.

There was a mirror in front of me so I could see as the big cop went around behind me. He toyed with the thin switch in one hand at the same time as he used his other hand to toy with the erection outlined in his tan uniform pants. I remember seeing his hand raised with the switch high in the air. And I must have seen his hand slash down with the switch. But all I knew was a blinding flash of white light as the pain went from my thighs and emanated out to my entire helpless body.

I screeched, which only caused the two white men to howl with laughter. "Breaking you in, boy," chuckled the cop as he toyed again with the switch. I felt my balls pull up against my body in fear.

But the Captain pushed the younger man aside. "No, no, look what you're doing. You've left a mark on his thighs. And the marks from the thin ones take longer to go away." I was trying to wrap my head around what the old man was saying. But he started to gently rub my butt cheeks, there was something almost tender and loving in his touch. "Good thing you didn't break the skin on these flawless globes, heheh. Would be such a shame for these butt cheeks to get marked up before I even get to enjoy them, heheh."

With that the old guy shoved his index finger all the way up into my ass. My whole body tensed and I howled, "Oh God, no!"

The cop pulled my hair to force me to look up at him as he said, "You too fuckin' stupid to know when you got it good, boy. Cap'n here wantsa save you from an ass whooping."

Then I watched as the Captain's son went around behind me with a container of Vaseline. He used both hands to spread my ass cheeks apart and then he slathered the thick substance up and down my crack. He worked a Vaseline-covered finger into my hole, and then a second finger. I watched the scene in the mirror. Here was a Southern white cop in uniform finger-fucking my bottom. At the same time that cop had his dick out of his pants and was jacking off like crazy.

Captain Worthing had also pulled his penis from his fly and was stroking it, but he was in no hurry to finish up, just enjoying the show. When he decided enough time had passed, the old man pushed the cop aside and positioned himself behind me. I felt the head of his uncut cock press against my anus.

I was barely able to get out a whisper, "P-p-please, Captain... please, sir... you know I never... I never did nothin' like... I'm a straight boy, sir."

"Yeh, that's the way I like `em," he chuckled, and slammed the full length of his stiff cock all the way up into me with one thrust.

I howled with agony not even realizing that the uniformed cop was right in position to shove his exposed erection into my open mouth. He grasped me by the face and snarled, "If I feel any teeth on it, boy, you gonna get all those teeth knocked out of yo' head."

I grunted, "Mfff mfff," glad that he couldn't make out the words, "Yes sir." What had I turned into? Had I become the subservient black serving boy these white men wanted me to be? All I knew at that moment was that I was totally vulnerable. As the Captain had pointed out some time earlier, nobody would believe the word of a black teenager over two white officers of the law -- especially not in Alabama.

The Captain didn't waste any time. As soon as he was inside me, he was fucking in and out of my ass fast and hard. I felt his balls slap against my thighs and when he would slam in and grind against me I felt his hairy bush on my smooth cheeks. His hands were all over my ass, at one moment tenderly caressing and the next moment slapping and pinching.

The pain from my ass coursed through my body. I think that's why I didn't choke much on Jefferson Worthing's cock. It wasn't as thick as the Captain's and he wasn't fucking as hard as the old man was. This pervy young white dude was long dicking my mouth, pulling his boner almost all the way out and then slamming all the way in, repeatedly slamming his big belt buckle into my nose. Both men were still dressed in uniform with their cocks out, taking their perverse pleasure with my naked, bound, black body.

As he was fucking hard, the Captain started telling his son, "You know, your great granddad used this horse for the very same purpose. My granddaddy taught me that fucking the girls can get messy, all those female emotions, plus the complication of babies. But the caramel boys with such nice round asses -- ah, the firm bodied young athletes, totally straight of course."

Dammit, this sick old man was in bliss recounting how generations of men in his family had abused and raped black teen boys just like me. I felt tears come to my eyes but shut my lids and held them tightly closed. I wouldn't give these Southern bastards the pleasure of seeing their black boy cry. I said a prayer that all the Captain's ancestors were burning in the deepest pits of hell for what they had done to boys like me.

I couldn't help contorting my face with anger, and I think that's what put the cop in my mouth over the edge. He grabbed the back of my head and slammed forward with his full body weight. His cock was lodged deeper in my throat than I thought it could go. His belt buckle and the weight of him was pressed so tight against my nose that I couldn't breathe. His cock was pulsing and each time it pulsed it shot cream down my throat. The cock was so deep down that I just had to swallow.

I thought I would pass out from lack of oxygen, and then I felt the Captain collapse behind me. His big body fell across my back. His cock also slammed in harder than before, deeper into my ass sending a new wave of pain. That old man's penis was pulsing in my guts, shooting stream after stream of hot cream inside me.

As both men slowly slid their dicks out of me, I gasped for breath. I was still chained down to this horse, bent forward at the waist with all four of my extremities cuffed to table legs. They left me bound like that while they went into the other room to drink and laugh together. I tried my best to cry silently, feeling so helpless and wondering how long I would remain a captive in Captain Worthing's house in Alabama.

Once I was unchained, the Captain told me that I should go around the house dressed in just the briefs. "You will not have the dignity of wearing clothes, but I don't need to see your black dick waving around here, boy. Besides I like the way the cotton fabric clings to your round ass, and that nice contrast of the white against your skin color."

I was supposed to be homeschooled during this time, but the only things I was taught were household chores and sexual service. I learned to cook all sorts of meals, learned to do laundry and iron all of the Captain"s clothes (even his socks and boxers), and learned to scrub floors on my hands and knees -- all while wearing just my white briefs. I also learned to wash the Captain in the shower, which always ended with me on my knees using my mouth to make sure the old man's cock and ass were clean enough. I learned to respond to all the Captain's orders instantly, to massage and lick any part of his body as commanded, and to forget that I ever had any dignity or self-respect.

Sometimes when the old man was drunk and we were alone, he would become romantic. Once he licked my body all over and said I was beautiful and, "I wanna worship your delicious black skin, beautiful boy, and serve your perfectly muscled body." But who would ever take my word that a white man like this former town sheriff would say that to a black boy?

Once when I asked Captain Worthing how long my sentence was for, he snapped "Don't be impertinent, boy." He supervised me closely when I spoke to my mother on the phone once a week. I was only allowed to tell her how good the Captain was treating me and how happy I was. He held the phone as I spoke so he could pull it away or turn it off anytime he chose. Even if I'd had a chance, I don't know how I could have told my mother what was going on in the Captain's house. I was too humiliated with all the nasty sex I had to perform.

While I spent the week either naked or in white briefs, each Sunday morning the Captain would dress me up in an ill-fitting black suit and take me along to his church. I had a perfectly good suit of my own, but he insisted I wear this old one that had belonged to one of his sons. It gave him a chance to tell his fellow parishioners how he had given his son's hand-me-down clothes to this poor black youth. I had to stand beside him as the townspeople filed by to praise his goodness for taking in "a no-account colored boy." When they addressed me, I knew I had to tell them how grateful I was to the Captain for letting me live in such a fine home.

One day after church services I ended up on my knees in the minister's office, sucking on the holy man's cock. The Captain sat in a comfy chair enjoying the show, even though I was still fully dressed in the hand-me-down suit. A door in the back of the room opened and there was the minister's grandson, a tall, blond jock I recognized from the school football team. I stopped sucking, frozen at having been caught in the act. But the Captain swatted me on my butt and said, "Nobody told you to stop."

The minister grabbed my head and was pumping my face up and down as the blond teenager played with the outline of his cock in his nice gray church pants. After I had swallowed his grandfather's jizz, the school jock whipped out his boner and shoved it into my cum-covered lips. But before I could even start sucking, the Captain remarked, "What a finely-formed white athlete this is. Show us everything, boy."

When the blond boy just froze and didn't do anything, the Minister helpfully added, "Don't be shy, son. Show the Captain how nice your muscles are developing."

I was kneeling on the floor fully dressed in my church suit as I watched the white high school athlete slowly strip out of his nice Sunday clothes. He was blushing and I could tell he was shy and reluctant to expose himself. But it appeared to me that he didn't have a choice. When I glanced back to the Captain, I saw the fat old man was still sprawled out in his comfy chair and was masturbating his exposed cock.

The Captain was the one giving the orders. The young football player fucked my mouth and the Captain was right behind him, jerking himself off as he watched the blond youth's smooth ass cheeks moving in and out. When the young jock was getting close to the end, panting and fucking my mouth more frantically, the Captain started swatting the boy's ass.

The blond teenager seemed to be crying as he shot his load down my throat. Pulling his dick out of my lips, he seemed even more shy as the Captain talked about, "What nice smooth skin this boy has, and what lovely muscle definition."

To this day I wonder what the deal was with the Minister. Why wasn't he outraged that this nasty old man was perving on his grandson? Was the Minister also a perv? Or was he that afraid of the power of the former sheriff?

Another weekend after church, the Captain dropped me off at the school I had briefly attended. I was led to the empty locker room and left in the clutches of the head coach, who immediately ordered me to strip for a shower. Coach was a man's man, a muscular retired marine, whose wife was pregnant with their fifth child. But when I was naked in the shower with the man, I remembered the story the Captain had told about a respected teacher who worshipped black boys. It was clear to me that story had been about the coach.

It seemed like Coach had to lick every detailed inch of my body, rambling on about how my flesh was like a "statue carved out of obsidian." The man teased my dick for hours, never letting me cum even as he would give a few quick licks to my cock head every so often. Finally he had my arms and legs strapped down onto a massage table with me on my back. I didn't know what was coming next as I watched him climb up on the table.

I was amazed as the Coach lowered himself onto my cock. The man's hands were spreading his own hairy butt cheeks and he was wrapping his butthole around my hard cock. Bare naked and bound on my back all I could think was that this muscular man was raping my cock. I'd been teased so much that my dick was stiff as iron, and now the respected faculty member was fucking his ass on my boner.

The whole time he was riding my dick, Coach had his eyes closed and was rambling on about, "You black boys think just because you have such big stiff cocks that you can make us white boys do whatever you want..." I swear, if I could've had a recording of what he was saying during that fuck, they would've carted this fool away to the looney bin.

When I couldn't hold back anymore, my black erection started shooting cream up into the Coach's rear. At the same time he grabbed his flopping dick and his sperm flew out. When I noticed how small his white cock was, I looked away. I was actually embarrassed that I knew his dick size. No wonder the retired marine worked so hard to be a macho man, and no wonder he had come to worship the big cocks of black guys.

But the most humiliating experience during the time I lived at the Captain's house was when he took me to a fancy dress-up party. He told me it was a period party and the host would have an appropriate costume for me to wear. The captain drove me to this big old Southern mansion and took me around the back to meet our host, an old skinny white man I knew as the president of the bank.

The bank president was wearing this fancy outfit from a couple of centuries ago. Sandwiched between the two old white men, I stripped down to my briefs but our host insisted I remove those. He then gave me a pair of pants that had the legs partly torn and left ragged.. They were too wide on me so I was given a rope to tie around my waist and hold them up. Then I was given a white undershirt that was equally torn and discolored. But I was left barefoot.

That's the way I was expected to serve drinks to the gentlemen guests. There were only about a dozen men there, all old and white. And all of them seemed to enjoy the site of me dressed in the raggedy outfit. While one man put his hand up my shirt and tweaked my nipples, another man had his hand slipping between my legs from behind, squeezing my balls. It didn't take long before the athletic undershirt was ripped to shreds and had fallen off me.

I was stretching to hand some drinks to a group of men when some joker decided to cut my rope belt. My ragged pants fell to my feet. I stumbled and was pushed forward by many hands that all seemed to be grabbing for my exposed ass. Men laughed, but our host stopped them from going further. "That's not the way we planned this, gentlemen. Remember our quest for authenticity."

Our host was fussy about his period pieces, so I was outfitted with another ragged pair of pants, no shirt this time. I was displayed on a little stage with my hands tied behind me. The host was giving a speech about this being a "fundraiser for the next senator's campaign," and that the former sheriff had been kind enough to donate something special for the auction.

That's when the raggedy pants were pushed down to the floor. One man in the group called out, "Yeh, but did the Captain already get that boy's butthole all stretched out."

The Captain was already a little drunk as he laughed in return, "You can check for yourself. He had an enema before coming here so he would be cleaned out."

I was immediately bent forward. More than one white man fingered my ass. They all seemed to like the tightness because they broke into nasty remarks about "what a hot ass this little colored boy has." I was working harder than ever to keep from crying at that point. But I was damned if I was gonna let these white bastards see me cry.

The man with the top bid was a nasty redneck who hog-tied me and tossed me in the back of his truck. He took me back to his house where he shared me with his three sons and also his elderly dad. I've blacked out on most of the details.


Next: Chapter 3


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