White Bitch Chronicles

White Bitch Chronicles: Episode 2: The BRBC

(c)2017 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.

Please note: this story depicts oral, anal, and group sex between males of different races. If any of these offend you or are illegal to publish in your jurisdiction, or you are under the age of 18, read no further.

The characters, locations and incidents in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

As an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.

.oOo.

This is the second episode of the White Bitch Chronicles. The entire series covers a time span of nearly two decades. Each episode records the experiences and self-discoveries of a different white narrator who encounters authoritative black masters. In episode 1, Yul, the new youth pastor, learned what being a servant of the Lord truly involved. The youth group he established, the BRBC, has been going strong for five years when episode 2 begins.

Note: This episode portrays sex between males ages 13-18.

.oOo.

I first heard about the group five years ago when I was still in third grade, but ever since then, I couldn't wait until I was old enough to join. You see, I had always attended church with my parents. Our denomination was considered progressive and welcomed a mix of blacks and whites. I was white. Five years ago the youth pastor had an idea to provide some wholesome fellowship for the high school age boys in the church. He called it the BiRacial Boys Club, BRBC for short. To provide opportunity for a few more lads, he decided to open it up to boys in eighth grade and older. That meant Kenny my older brother could join. Every Saturday that fall, Pastor Yul took the boys out for pizza, bowling, the video arcade, sometimes a movie, if a good wholesome one was showing. Then they'd end up back in the church basement to talk about stuff, whatever was on their minds. Of course, since Sunday was a working day for Pastor Yul, he would always have to leave early, but he gave the oldest boys the responsibility to watch over the group and lock up the place when they were ready to leave, which often wasn't until nearly two in the morning. The oldest boys that year were two black dudes, Denton and Ramon. When they graduated and went off to college, the group elected new leaders, who for some reason I didn't understand then, always seemed to be black. Kenny was active in high school politics, and was elected president of his junior class, so I asked him if he had run for the leadership of the BRBC. He said no, and when I asked him why, he said I'd understand when I was old enough to join. That intrigued me and I bugged him a while for more clarification. He simply told me there were more things about the BRBC than outsiders were aware of. Things even Pastor Yul didn't know about. Wow, secrets! I couldn't wait to learn more.

So I was excited the first Saturday after I went into eighth grade. My big brother by then was off to college. He had been accepted to Forester University in Tennessee. Our parents were thrilled that he'd chosen a historically black college. They had been giving to the United Negro College Fund for decades. After an early supper,--a light one because we knew I'd be having pizza later,--Dad drove me to the church. He kept telling me how good the BRBC had been for my brother. "Donny," he said, "I hope you'll find it just as rewarding." I was sure I would. In the parking lot, I met Vincent and Lyle, my two best friends from school. Vincent like always was wearing his silly sailor hat. We were all in eighth grade now and so we were old enough for BRBC. They were just as excited as I was. We had made it to the big time. Vincent, Lyle and I had always played together since third grade when we were in the same Sunday School class. Vincent was white like me and Lyle was black, with a face the color of a cup of hot chocolate and hair like a Brillo pad, but that didn't make a bit of difference. My parents were pleased to see me learning to play with all races. We had all heard about the BRBC from older kids, about how much fun it was, and that there was secret stuff no one else knew about. So all three of us were giggling with anticipation as we went inside.

We gathered in the church basement and Pastor Yul introduced us to the older members. Mamadu and Isiah were the newly elected leaders, both black, especially Mamadu, whose skin was the blackest I'd ever seen. He had a little goatee, his hair was cropped close to his head and at 6'8", he dominated the basketball court for the school team. Later that night, I discovered he had no chest hair, but a dark patch of pubic hair above his very long cut cock. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Isiah was pretty black too, but not as tall, no facial hair and he had cornrows. Pastor Yul gave us a few basic rules like: Always to make the church proud. To behave ourselves out in public, etc. We all then piled into the church van and Pastor Yul drove us to the pizzeria, then to the bowling alley, and finally back to the church basement, where we talked about racial equality, about the struggles of integration, about Martin Luther King's dream of little black boys and little white boys playing together. Around ten, Pastor Yul excused himself and left Mamadu and Isiah in charge. That's when everything changed.

Immediately, the seven older black members of the BRBC, stood up and arranged themselves on bar stools, giving them a place of authority. They told Lyle to grab a stool and join them. Happily, he did so. He was grinning and I knew he was wondering what was going to happen next. So were Vincent and I.

That's when we noticed, the ten older white members of the BRBC were down on their knees in front of the stools, heads bowed, hands behind their backs, a position of submission.

Mamadu took charge. He spoke to us: "Boy Vincent and Boy Donald, you see where the other Boys are kneeling. You will join them." He glared at us. "Now!" Vincent and I knelt down beside the others. I tried to keep the grin on my face, but now I wasn't so sure. I looked up at Lyle on his stool, who was looking down at his two old friends, grinning widely with a new sparkle in his eyes.

When we were all in our proper places, Mamadu continued, "Now there are a few things Pastor Yul did not mention, including a few rules. Things you Boys must learn. Things you must learn about the BRBC,

Things you must learn about Black men. Things you must learn about yourselves. Boy Donald, look at the other Boys on their knees." I did. "Are any of them staring up at the Black Men sitting here?"

"No," I said.

"Boy James. Let Boy Donald hear how he should have answered my question."

"No, Sir," said Jimmy, a high school senior, now reduced to my level. I couldn't believe my eyes. He was much more athletic than Mamadu, much more muscular, and much more handsome. His light hair was long enough to hold a part and was swept up in front of him. He wore a tight wifebeater shirt, and I noticed one of his nips protruded while the other was flat. He also had on several necklaces, and gold colored sweat pants. I'd heard how all the boys in high school admired him and all the girls had crushes on him. But here he was on his knees and being addressed as Boy.

Mamadu repeated the question: "Boy Donald, are any of the other Boys staring up at the Black Men sitting here?"

"No, Sir," I said. I lowered my gaze and fixed my eyes on Lyle's feet.

"Good, Boy Donald, you learn fast." Mamadu continued, "Boy Richard, Pastor Yul told these naive little Boys that BRBC stands for BiRacial Boys Club. Is that what it means?"

"No, Sir," said Dicky, had joined the BRBC last year. He was in ninth grade, so I knew knew him better than Jimmy. He was shorter, slimmer, less muscular. The expression on his face, with his arched eyebrows, was tentative. His black hair was just as long as Jimmy's but unkempt. He wore jeans and a grey T Shirt that said California.

"What does BRBC really mean then?"

Jimmy didn't raise his head but answered, "Sir, it means Bitches R Born Caucasian, Sir." I heard a lot of snickering from the stools, and a definite giggle I recognized as Lyle's.

"Boy James, what does it mean that Bitches are born Caucasian."

"Sir, it means, since I am white, my ass belongs to you, Sir, and to all the Black Men assembled here, Sir."

"You hear that, Lyle? You see before you twelve white assed bitches. Twelve Boys who come here every week just to serve us. To serve you. Aren't you glad you joined?"

"Shit, yeah," said Lyle. I couldn't believe the delight evident in his voice as he was watching his two old friends undergo their humiliation.

"Boy Angus, what is the cardinal rule for all the members of the BRBC to obey?"

I wondered who he was talking to. I didn't know any kid named Angus. But then, Reggie spoke up. Then I remembered back in fifth grade he beat a kid up on the playground, who had called him something. Now I realized Reggie's real name was Angus. He was now a sophomore, still had bright red hair, and still had a reputation as something of a bully, so I was amazed to see him kowtowing to these eight blacks and letting them call him whatever they wanted. Reggie answered, "Sir, the cardinal rule is secrecy, Sir. We must never tell anyone what happens here after Pastor Yul leaves, Sir."

"Boy Theodore, what will happen to anyone who breaks the code of secrecy."

Teddy was best friends with my older brother, but since he had been left back in seventh grade, he was still in high school, a senior now. He and Kenny were still great friends and hung out together. Teddy had dirty blond hair, squinty eyes and a broad mouth that always seemed to be smirking. He was always being sarcastic when he visited us, but this night there was no smirk on his face, no sarcasm in his voice. "Sir, if anyone who breaks the code of secrecy, Sir, he is eliminated, Sir."

"Boy Samuel, when Boy Theodore used the word 'eliminated', did he mean he would lose his membership in BRBC?"

Poor Sammy. Another ninth grader. He choked up when he answered, "No, Sir."

"What does 'eliminated' mean, then?"

"It means he will be killed, Sir. He will be taken out into the woods, a rope placed around his neck, and then hung until dead, Sir. And no one will ever know who killed him, Sir." There was a shakiness in Sammy's voice as he said this. Dicky was close enough that I could see him shaking as well. I heard Vincent gasp. Lyle said, "Huh?" I caught my breath, and realized what would have happened to my older brother if in a weak moment he had told me about the BRBC.

"Boy Phillip, stand up."

Phil Papazoglou stood up. If anyone in the high school was a star, it was he. Senior. Straight A's. Quarterback on the football team. Scouted by numerous colleges. Worked out daily. He had a Greek nose, jet black hair and a five o'clock shadow. He wore a short sleeved shirt opened down to his navel so I could see Tats on his hairy chest and his hairy arms. Muscular arms. All sorts of muscles. All sorts of girl friends. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see he still hung his head down. Still kept his hands behind his back. Here Phil the Senior was subservient to Mamadu the Junior.

"Boy Phillip, move over and stand in front of Sir Lyle." Phil shuffled over. "Lyle, take a look at Boy Phillip. You like watching a big hunky white Boy humbled like this?"

"Yeah, I do," Lyle giggled. I couldn't believe my ears.

"Lyle, ask Boy Phillip what he is."

"Hehe. What are you, Boy Phillip?"

"Sir, I am your bitch, Sir. Since I am white, my ass belongs to you, Sir, and to all the Black Men assembled here, Sir."

"You mean it belongs to me, too?"

"Yes Sir, Sir Lyle, you are my superior, Sir. My ass belongs to you, Sir."

Mamadu again prompted Lyle, "Tell Boy Phillip to strip."

"Strip, Boy Phillip."

Without raising his head, Phil unbuttoned his shirt, slid it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

"Lyle, you like what you see so far? You like Boy Phillip's pecs? Boy Phillip, flex those pecs for Sir Lyle."

Lyle giggled. I wondered why Phil wasn't totally embarrassed, why his face wasn't turning scarlet. Then I realized Phil had been doing this for four years. He had grown used to being compliant. Would I het used to it also? Phil knew what he was supposed to do. He kicked off his shoes. He wasn't wearing socks. He unbuckled his belt and his waistband, unzipped his fly, and dropped trou. I was staring right at his big round buttocks. As Phil stepped out of his pants and kicked them aside, I got a brief view of the back of his shaft and ball sack. Lyle was getting a long uninterrupted view of Phil's white cock. I looked up just briefly, long enough to see Lyle licking his lips. Lyle saw me looking and glared at me. I quickly lowered my gaze.

I heard Mamadu call my name and Vincent. I was afraid he'd also seen me peeking. But instead he said, "Boy Donald, Boy Vincent. Notice Boy Phillip is not wearing underwear. From now on, every Saturday night, when you will come to BRBC, you will not wear any underwear. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." We said in unison.

"Boy Phillip, tell Boy Donald and Boy Vincent why you stripped naked when Sir Lyle told you."

"Sir, because my ass belongs to him, Sir, and to all the Black Men assembled here, Sir."

"Assume the position, Boy Phillip." Phil turned ninety degrees, then got down on his hands and knees like a dog. A very naked dog. I could now see Phil's cock as it hung down from his body. I had never seen another boy's cock. I had never seen any cock except my own. Now here I was in the basement of the church staring at the finest man tool I could imagine dangling down just a few feet in front of me. It was white, it was limp, it had a patch of rich dark pubic hair, and it was uncut.

Mamadu got up and stood in front of Phil's head. "Sir Lyle, come over here with me." Lyle jumped off his stool and skipped over next to the big tall black leader. "Sir Lyle, have you ever had a blowjob?"

"Hehe, no, Sir Mamadu."

"Boy Phillip here just loves to suck black cock, Sir Lyle. Don't you Boy?"

"Yes, Sir." Phil opened his mouth.

"You see that, Sir Lyle? Boy Phillip just can't wait to taste your delicious black cock. Go ahead. Pull it out and stick it in." Lyle giggled as he groped at his fly and pulled out his pecker. It was even blacker than he was, and it was circumcised. Mamadu gently pushed Lyle's ass forward until his little dick was in front of Phil's face. Phil engulfed it in his mouth and began sucking away.

"Boy Harold, explain to Boy Vincent and Boy Donald the protocol of sucking a black cock."

Harry was a Junior, quite chubby, with boy boobs. He was always joking around on the bus so was a happy kid, I had always thought. He wore glasses and had narrow eyes, and I was never sure if maybe he was Chinese or something. But I guess here he was considered white, and therefore a bitch. "Sir, when we suck black cock it is an act of reverence, like worshipping a god, Sir. We do our best to make Sir happy, hoping he will be pleased with our performance, Sir. Normally, we keep our eyes lowered in the presence of our superiors, Sir, but when sucking their cocks, Sir, we piously look up into their faces to be sure they are satisfied, Sir." I looked at Phil. Sure enough, he was gazing up at Lyle like a little pet puppy dog.

It didn't take long for Lyle to start bucking. When he pulled his cock out of Phil's mouth, big long ropes of jizz were hanging from the end. More ropes were hanging off Phil's chin. I was impressed.

"Sir Isiah and Sir Caleb, finish using Boy Phillip." As Phil stayed there crouched over on his hands and knees, two other Black dudes came down. Isiah, a Senior, stood where Lyle had been and continued fucking Phil's face. The other, Caleb, got behind him and started fucking his asshole. Caleb was only a ninth grader, the same grade as Dicky and Sammy, yet here he was called Sir and he could fuck any white Boy in the room, even Phillip. He had chestnut skin, close cropped hair, and looked pretty fit. When he pulled out the cock out of his fly and pointed it at Phil's butt, it looked huge to me. It was so long. It was darker than the rest of his body, except for the head which was dark pink. I was becoming intrigued with black cocks. This one looked so thick, I wondered how much it would hurt Phil. When I got to be a senior like Phil, would Lyle and other blacks be fucking me? Would it hurt?

"Boy Todd, explain to Boy Vincent and Boy Donald the protocol of taking a black cock up your asshole."

Todd, another Junior, was a very quiet boy, with a stutter. He was scrawny, and somewhat spastic. had scraggly red hair which came down own his neck and recently grew a sparse stache and goatee. "S-s-Sir, when w-we c-come here on S-s-saturday nights, S-s-Sir, we can ex-s-s-spect to get f-f-fucked a lot. S-s-so, S-s-Sir all B-b-boys sh-should be s-s-sure to p-p-put a lot of lube up our ass b-b-before we leave home, s-s-so we're r-r-ready, S-s-Sir." What? All Boys? Certainly, he doesn't mean little eighth graders like Vincent and me.

"You hear that, Boy Vincent and Boy Donald? Tomorrow, after church, you will go to the drug store and each buy yourself a jar of vaseline. KY is better, but vaseline will do. Then next Saturday, you will push a big gob of it up your shit chute. Then you put your shorts on, but remember, no underwear. You got that?"

"Yes, Sir." We said in unison. My eyes began to water.

"Oh look, Lyle, your little friend Boy Donald is going to cry like a baby. Ask Boy Donald why he's crying?"

Lyle giggled. "Hehe, why are you crying, Boy Donald? Are you being a baby?"

I was furious. I wanted to wipe that stupid grin off Lyle's face. "No, Sir. I just think it's going to hurt, Sir."

Mamadu turned to Garrett, another Junior. "Boy Lyle wants to know if it's going to hurt. Tell him, Boy Garrett."

"Sir, yes, Sir. The first few times, it hurts like hell Sir."

"Why is that, Boy Garrett?"

"Sir, because black cocks are very big, Sir, not like our puny white boy cocks, Sir."

"Then, if it hurts so bad, why do you let us fuck you, Boy Garrett?"

"Sir, Because Bitches are born Caucasian, Sir. Since I am white, my ass belongs to you, Sir, and to all the Black Men assembled here, Sir. And, Sir, after a while, Sir, we get used to it, and we learn what to do so it doesn't hurt so much. And." Garrett stopped.

"And what, Boy? Come on, say it!"

"Well, Sir, after a while, Sir," Garrett's cheeks were beginning to blush. "After a while, Sir, then we kinda, Sir, we kinda start to like it, Sir." The other older white boys were nodding in agreement. All the black dudes began to laugh and high five each other.

"Boy Chad, you're a sophomore. Have you learned to like getting fucked by our big black cocks?"

"Oh, yes, Sir," Chad replied enthusiastically. "I really love getting fucked. I can't wait for Saturday night so I can come here and get a big black cock stuck up my ass, Sir." Chad looked right at me. "You know why I love it so much, Boy Donald?" I shook my head. "Because now I know Bitches are born Caucasian. We white boys were put on this earth to be used by black Men." He turned back and looked at Lyle. "Sir Lyle, I can't wait to have you fuck my sorry white ass, Sir."

Lyle giggled, "Hehe, OK!" Chad practically ripped off his shirt. He didn't even bother to take off his shoes, just dropped his pants to his ankles and got down on his hands and knees. Lyle got behind him and began wanking his little black pecker into a boner, then pushed it into Chad's ass.

Two white guys were now on the floor getting fucked. And all the other older white guys were shifting from foot to foot. They were like dogs, eager to get their asses up in the air. I couldn't believe it. But then I noticed Vincent also was getting anxious.

"OK, Boys," called out Mamadu. "All you Boys may strip now." The others quickly got out of their clothes, even Vincent! I stood there, frozen in place. "Assume the position, Boys." In a flash, all the white boys, except for me, were on their hands and knees, even Vincent! The black dudes were unzipping and sticking their fat black cocks into white mouths and white assholes. I was shaking like a leaf.

Just then, I felt a big muscular black arm around my my shoulder. "Hi," he said. The arm was very dark. Dad has this bronze statue in his study at home that I always loved to look at and touch. It's an Indian on horseback. The plaque says "Cheyenne by Frederick Remington. The arm around my shoulder looked just as bronze and just as shiny as that statue. "Hi, Sir," I pouted.

"My name is Sir Zion." I looked at him. He was smiling, and all his white teeth just gleamed against the lovely dark face. Somehow, I could tell it was not a sneer or a sarcastic smile, but one that seemed genuinely friendly. "I know you're frightened, Boy Donald. I want to help you. Come over here to the corner with me. Away from the others."

"Are you going to beat me up, Sir?"

"There won't be any need for that, Boy Donald. Believe me." We went to a corner and sat down at a table. "I'm going to show you something, Boy Donald. Something you're really going to like." I wasn't buying it. Whatever it was, I knew I wasn't going to like it, especially when he reached into his pants. But instead of a black cock, Sir Zion took out his cell phone and punched in a few numbers. He looked at the screen and waved to someone.

"Hi there, Sir Zion." My eyes popped wide open. It was a familiar voice. "Sir Zion, is my brother there?"

"Yes, Boy Kenneth is here."

"May I speak to him, Sir?"

"Yes, Boy, you may." I grabbed the phone. There was my brother live as life on the screen. Now I really started crying. The floodgates opened. I couldn't help myself. I started blubbering.

"Hey, there, little Brother. Come on, there's nothing to cry about."

"B-b-b-but I had no idea, Kenny. I thought you guys had fun here. Instead all the nig." I caught myself. "I mean all the black dudes, they're treating us like shit. I don't get it.

"OK, calm down, little Brother. Tell me what you've learned so far. What does BRBC really mean?"

"It," I choked back my tears. "It means Bitches are born caucasian. Since I'm a white boy, they say my ass belongs to them, that I gotta let them fuck me. But I don't like it. I'm scared."

"I thought you might be, Little Brother. It's your first night and all. That's why I sent Sir Zion a message that I was worried. Wasn't he nice to let me talk with you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I think you should thank him. Let me see you give him a big kiss, little Brother." I leaned over and gave Sir Zion a peck on the cheek. My brother laughed. "Not like that, little Brother. Ask him if you can give him a real kiss."

"Sir Zion, my brother says I should ask you..."

"Yes, yes, yes. You can kiss me." Sir Zion grabbed my face and planted a long sloppy wet kiss on my mouth. I felt his tongue penetrate my lips. I was shocked.

"OK, little Brother, tell me that didn't feel nice."

"It did feel sorta nice, Kenny. I think Sir Zion is kinda nice."

"OK, now ask him if you may please kiss his lovely black cock. Believe me, I know how lovely it is. Every week I used to look forward to getting my mouth on that wonderful cock of his."

Sir Zion nodded. I got out of my chair and went around the table, knelt down and opened Sir Zion's fly. I pulled out his cock and kissed it."

"Very good, little Brother. Now listen to Sir Zion and do what he says. I'm going to watch and I know nothing bad will happen to you. I promise."

Sir Zion looked at me and said, "Boy Donald, Strip." I looked at the phone in my hand. Now I noticed Kenny had his shirt off and there was a black arm around his bare shoulders. My brother winked at me and I knew it was OK. I took off my clothes, but I held on to the phone. Sir Zion gave the next command: "Now, Boy Donald, assume the position." Again my brother gave me an encouraging nod. I got on my hands and knees, opened my mouth and began sucking on Sir Zion's cock. My brother kept talking to me. "That's the way. You're being a good little white bitch, just like your big brother. Keep sucking. Look up into his eyes. He's your god now. Shit, I'm jealous of you, little Brother. How much I miss the taste of Sir Zion's lovely big black cock. It's delicious, isn't it, little Brother? Keep sucking. Soon you will get your reward. A nice big mouthful of black man cum. You're going to love it." Suddenly, I felt something pressing on my virgin ass. A greasy finger. My brother must have sensed me tensing up. "What is it, little Brother? Hold the phone so I can see who's behind you." I did that. "Oh, it's Sir Tyler. Hello, Sir. I'm so happy you are the one to deflower my little Brother, Sir." Just relax, little Brother. Sir Tyler knows what he's doing. He's going to coat your shit chute with lots of lube and that will make his cock go in you real easy. Believe me. When you feel him pushing his cock into you, pretend you have to shit. That way your hole will open up and welcome him inside. It will hurt but only for a little while. Be brave. That's it. You're being poked in both ends now. Like a pig on a spit." My brother laughed. I couldn't help myself. I started laughing also. Brother was right. It did hurt, but it wasn't so bad. In fact, once I started to relax, it felt kind of good. I felt a flow of warmth all over me starting at my ass and radiating out until my whole body felt it. I was beginning to like being their white bitch. Soon I had cum dripping out of me from both ends. And then, other black cocks came over to take the place of Sir Zion and Sir Tyler. "OK, little Brother, good night now. I know you're going to enjoy the rest of the night." I saw Kenny wave goodbye but before he hung up, I noticed he was completely naked sitting on the lap of a black college student. And I actually did enjoy the rest of the night. I got fucked over and over. So did Vincent. Our faces were covered in black man's cum and more of it was dripping out of our asses.

Around two o'clock. Everyone got dressed. Vincent and I were both worn out. Sir Malik, the one Senior among the black dudes, drove us home. I couldn't wait until the next week when I would return to BRBC, and all my black Sirs, including Sir Lyle.

Epilog:

The next day, after church, Lyle, Vincent and I did go to the drug store and eventually found the aisle with the vaseline. As Lyle watched, Vincent and I nervously headed for the counter with the jars in our hands. What if the clerk asked us why we were buying them? Then I noticed the clerk was a large black man, that I thought I recognized from church. His name badge said Ramon. He looked at us, at the purchases we wanted to make, and smiled. "You boys wait here a minute." He walked away from the register while Vincent and I looked at each other shaking. We almost ran out. Lyle must have read our minds and shook his head at us. Ramon came right back with two tubes of KY in his hand. "You boys will find this works much better." He nonchalantly rang us up. "Lyle, if you think these boys need a lesson on how to use the lube, I get my break in half an hour. You can bring them back then."

Lyle, Vincent and I hung around the parking lot for half an hour. We were all pretty tired. It had been really hard to stay awake in church. Sir Lyle went on and on about how great BRBC was, and Vincent and I both nodded. It was a lot of fun. Sir Lyle looked at his watch and told us it was time to go back in. Sir Ramon led us all back to the store room. "No one will disturb us here, Lyle." He shut the door.

"OK, Boys," Lyle said with authority, "Strip." Vincent and I quickly got out of our Sunday clothes.

Sir Ramon opened my tube of KY. "Hold out your hand, Boy Donald." I did and Ramon pushed a generous dab on to my middle finger. He put the tube down and guided my hand to my ass and pushed my finger into it. "Now get it way in there, Boy. Move it all around. The more you coat your shit chute, the less it will hurt." Vincent took his tube and imitated me. "OK, let's see how well you Boys did." Ramon opened his fly and pulled out his schlong. He had me suck him off enough to get it nice and hard. Meanwhile, Sir Lyle was getting his cock sucked by Vincent. Then both black men,--yes, we now regarded Sir Lyle, though he was our own age, as a man,--went behind us and fucked us good and hard. Then they switched places, so my ass got creamed with Lyle's black man cum. We got our clothes back on and thanked Sir Ramon for all his help.

The rest of that week, Sir Lyle fucked both of us every day after school. He couldn't wait for Saturday. Neither could we, his bitch boys. We had to go back to Ramon and buy more KY.

Every night when I stripped for bed, I called Kenny and told him all about my day, and he told me about his.

.oOo.

The next episode of White Bitch Chronicles is contemporaneous with this one. You will discover what college life was like for Kenny (one of the few whites at a black university) while his little brother Donny had his initiation into BRBC. As an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.