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Subject: {ASSM} Sexual Need for Attitude Adjustment among Black Teenage Boys: A Story
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Date: Fri, 15 Aug 2008 00:10:02 -0400
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The Sexual Need for Attitude Adjustment among Black Teenage Boys: A
Story

This story is a work of creative fiction for erotic adult
entertainment purposes only. It is not intended to be read by minors
or anyone else who might be offended by graphic sexuality involving
male teenagers and racial humiliation. Reader discretion is strongly
suggested.

****************

The basketball team for the high school in the Negro section of town
was looking for a new coach. The old one took a job in a suburban high
school because it offered better pay and benefits. I always wanted to
try my hand at coaching colored boys in basketball, so I volunteered
for the job. Before I could get started, the principal briefed me on
the essentials if I intended to work with these boys. The principal
appeared to have a wealth of experience. He studied my face for a few
minutes, as if trying to decide whether or not he could confide in me.

"The most important thing to understand," he began slowly, "is that
these boys have had few positive male role models in their lives. They
are insecure about their manhood. Because they are insecure they
constantly try to prove to themselves, and to the world that they are
men."

I nodded to let him know I was following him. He continued cautiously.

"They get into fights to prove that they are men. They act like they
are afraid of faggots and queers to prove they are men. They lift
weights and get buffed up to prove they are men. They become hard-
headed and thick-skulled to prove they are men. They stand around
grabbing their crotches in public and they make lewd comments to
passing women to prove they are men. They don't read or write to prove
they are men. They act unusually cold and insensitive to prove they
are men. They wear baggy clothing - like the clothing issued in
prisons - to prove they are men. Everything they do is to cover for
their fear that they don't know what manhood really is. They live in
fear that they will never be real men."

I gave him a thoughtful frown, as if to say, "This makes sense to me."
He seemed to relax a bit. He sat back in his leather chair.

"The irony is that the lack of positive male role models in their
lives makes them desire attention from other males - particularly
older males - often in a homosexual way."

He said this with an odd twist of the head and an ironic smile. I
returned the smile. He continued.

"But they are afraid to admit it. The only thing they really respect
is the power that one man has over another. This power is clear when
one man forcibly butt fucks another, or makes that other man suck his
cock. This is a sign of physical power. The black boy sees power in
other ways too. Nobody has more power over the lives of colored boys
than 'The Man' - white men with money and authority."

We exchanged knowing grins.

"When a white man uses his power, whether through money or through
physical strength, it secretly makes the black boy's dick hard. Black
boys are oriented toward respecting a man with any kind of power,
except the power of the mind."

I looked him in the eye. He could see that I was getting his drift.

"This is why there are so many black men 'on the down-low.' They live
secret lives of homosexuality because they long to be in the loving
embrace of another male. They want to be held close by a man who is
strong and muscular - who exudes the very qualities that they believe
typifies manhood. They want to be physically close to those manhood
qualities that were missing in their lives when they were being raised
in households run by single women. They believe some of this strong,
muscular manhood will rub off on them. They hope that this will make
them 'real men.'"

The principal paused to toy with a pen he was holding between his
fingers. For a moment he seemed lost in thought, as though he had
forgotten I was even there. Then he looked up at me. "You know, I used
to be the principal in the middle school. I discovered that younger
black boys - boys who are around 12, 13, or 14 years of age - respond
well when put under the authority of an older white boy - around 16,
17, or 18 years of age. They tend to look up to the older white boy.
They try to do whatever they can to please him. This does not work so
well when we put grown men in charge of them. A grown man was too
intimidating."

I leaned forward, absorbing every word. The principal continued, "But
the boys you will be working with are older. They're more mature. They
will require a grown man in their life."

The principal put down the pen. He leaned back in his chair, folded
his hands beneath his chin and smirked, "Basically, these are just
over-grown mama's boys. Since they have never had masculine discipline
in their home life they could benefit from the thrust of a hard white
cock in their black asses every now and then, just to break through
their spoiled thug attitude. You've gotta humiliate them to get their
respect and bring them down to earth."

My head reeled as I left the principal's office. "So," I said to
myself as I walked down the hall to coach my first session of
basketball, "If I want black boys' respect and if I want to get
through their hard heads I'm going to have show them who the new top
dawg is around here. I'm going to have to mount their black asses so
that there is no doubt about who is in authority."

On my way to the gym I passed a grey-haired, good-natured Negro
janitor. "How ya' doin,' Rufus?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I take life easy. Nuthin' much bothers me," the Negro
laughed, "I guess you can say I'm just sorta nonchalant."

Rufus' awkward self-assessment amused me. What did he mean by calling
himself 'nonchalant'? "Well, that could be a good or a bad thing," I
shot back with a forced laugh.

Rufus grinned, "Yeah, you right about that."

When I got to the gym I lined the boys up like Watusi warriors. I got
a hard-on looking at those lanky chocolate brown boys with ashy knees
standing side-by-side, waiting to be told what to do. I couldn't take
my eyes off of the bulge in their cotton boxer shorts.

I began to daydream about the limp, thick nigger cock meat that I knew
was lurking underneath those cotton shorts, making them bulge. Imagine
what those colored boys' dicks would look like if they were fully
erect. I couldn't ignore the pulsating bulge in my own pants. I wanted
to whip out my cock and start beating it right there on the spot, as I
examined those black boys.

As I walked up and down the row of Negro boys, inspecting my "troops"
I affected the air of a military officer. "Alright boys," I barked, "I
want all of you press your thick lips together and whistle the tune to
the Andy Griffen show. Don't pretend you don't know it. I know you all
watch Nic at Night. Whistle that tune, boys."

After a bit of disgruntled mumbling I enjoyed the sound of twenty
Negro boys whistling Andy Griffen. My cock jumped at the sight and
sound of their humiliation. I imagined these boys in a watermelon
patch being stripped naked and forced to perform for a white sheriff.

"Pull down your boxer shorts," I barked. They looked sheepish. Slowly
they complied. It was a sight to behold. A row of long, lanky
chocolate-colored fuck meat, all ready for me to grab hold of and play
with.

I reached out for the first boy's long nigger dick. I tightened my
fist on the boy's dick and felt it growing thicker and thicker in my
hand. I slowly stroked the boy's thick cock. It didn't take long
before the boy's cock was fully erect. Precum leaked from the slit at
the top. I looked the boy in his eyes and with an air of authority
said, "You like that, don't you Tyrone?"

His homeboys stifled laughter, mocking the boy's sexual arousal as I
stroked him. The boy looked down, embarrassed. He shook his head "no."

I frowned. "Don't lie to me, boy. I can see how hard your cock is. You
like having someone stroke your big black cock?"

The boy didn't look up. His buddies were now holding their sides and
bending over, shaking their heads, trying not to break out in complete
laugher. Tyrone bit his lower lip and emphatically shook his head,
"no." His long nigger cock oozed a stream of precum. I let it slide
down his ashy black shaft and used it for lubrication as I masturbated
the boy. The gasped with short breaths of pleasure.

I stroked harder. I pressed close to his body while I stroked him. "Do
I stroke your cock as good as white girls do? Do white girls do it to
you as good as I do?"

Now his buddies were snickering openly at poor Tyrone's expense.

I shot them a glance. "You boys settle down now. I don't want to hear
any laughter out of you, or you'll be next. I've got half a mind to
make all you boys get into a circle and jerk each other off for me.
You think you'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd like to jerk each
other's long nigger cocks off for a white man to enjoy."

The snickering stopped.

I turned my attention back to the hapless black boy. "If you want me
to stop embarrassing you in front of your homeboys the answer you
should give me is 'yessir, I sho nuff do like havin' you stroke my
nigger cock.' Say it."

I stroked Tyrone harder, faster. He bit his lip in defiance and glared
at me. I glared back. I felt the intense throbbing of his cock in my
hand. It wouldn't be long before he would start gushing cum.

"If you start shooting cum everybody will know you're nothing but a
black faggot. They'll be no denying you like it when a man strokes
your big nigger cock. You know what to say in order to stop this from
happening."

I kept stroking the black boy's long, thick, chocolate fuck meat. The
tall lanky boy's ashy knees bumped together in involuntary sexual
ecstasy. He grimaced, trying to hold back any audible or facial
expression of arousal.

The boy breathed heavily. His body tensed, on the verge of orgasm. He
furtively eyed his homeboys who were watching him with amusement.

I tightened my grip, stroking even faster. "What'll it be, Tyrone?"

"Yessir, I sho nuff do," the boy mumbled. I could barely hear him.

I kept stroking the boy's pulsating cock. "Oh no. You can do much
better than that. Say the whole thing. Say it loud so everyone can
hear you."

Tyrone, his body now rocking back and forth to keep from losing
control, said, "Yessir, I sho nuff do like havin' you stroke my nigger
cock,"

Too late. Tyrone shot a geyser of thick white cum. It arched in the
air and landed in spurts all over my hand and his shirt. Globs of the
boy's cum splattered on his sneakers. His buddies burst out laughing.
"Youse a pussy, Tyrone" they shouted. "Youse a sho nuff queer."

I kept stroking the boy's cock. He continued pumping into the air.
"Three things mystify me about you boys," I said as I made him jerk to
my words.

"First, I wanna know why you guys exaggerate toughness and manhood. Is
it because you are insecure about it - because you don't have any
fathers?" I squeezed the last globs of cum from the nigger's cock
meat. "Doesn't not having fathers make it more likely that you boys
will grow up wanting to get a little something 'on the downlow'?"

I made the boy bend over and felt his hairy low-hanging balls. I got a
good strong whiff of his musky private parts. They exuded a barely
constrained masculine sex drive. I could tell that the boy had needs -
he probably masturbated at least three times a day.

"Don't be ashamed of what you want, homeboy," I continued, "Why try to
fight it? Don't go around shooting your homeboys just because deep
down inside you really want to cuddle up to them and get inside their
baggy pants."

I tightened my grip and tugged on the nigger's dick for emphasis. The
boy continued to grunt and leak out ghetto cum. "You've got needs.
We've all got needs. So, what the fuck? Why deny it? Why try to put up
a hard front and pretend you aren't even curious? I haven't met a
fatherless boy yet who doesn't have a deep down craving to have a
man's dick in his mouth."

The boy whimpered with embarrassment and exhaustion after emptying his
nuts several times in succession.

"Second, I want to know what it will take to jolt the fuck out of that
lackadaisical attitude you have." I wrapped my arms around the boy's
hips as he was bending over. I ran my hands over the smooth contours
of the nigger's firm black ass.

"Ooooo, look at this fine piece of black ass," I marveled, as if I
were showing off a nice cut of beef to butchers at the fair grounds.

I shoved my fingers inside the boy - finger fucking him to his
humiliation in front of his buddies.

"You boys are always acting cold, hard, sullen, and indifferent. Does
a white man have to rape your colored ass in order to get a decent
response out of you?"

The boy shifted nervously on his feet and grunted in pain while my
fingers raped his tight brown butt.

"Third," I said, wiping my fingers off on the boy's thick nigger lips
and shoving them in his mouth to clean them, "Since you boys worship
money so much, and even wear dollar signs on your hoodies and boxer
shorts, I want to know just how far you are willing to go for cash."

I dried my fingers off in the boy's nappy hair. "My bet is you don't
have any limits. You'll do anything for cash, including suck a white
man's cock, and look up at him knowing he's your master."

I held the boy by his hips and showed his nigger ass to his buddies.
They realized that everything I had just done and said to him was a
truth they had tried to deny. They hung their heads in shame.

"Look at that firm nigger ass," I said, showing his ass to his buddies
with a grin. I spread his ass cheeks and thrust my fingers back
inside. "I bet that hole would feel good on a white man's cock."

They boy jumped at the thrust of my fingers in his ass. I shoved them
in hard. I leaned over and smiled, "You ever been fucked in the ass,
boy?"

"No sah," the boy whimpered as I finger fucked in front of his
buddies.

"Louder."

"N-n-no sah, I aint nebber b-b-been fucked in m-m-mah azz," the boy
sniffed and stuttered in embarrassment.

"But you would do it for pay wouldn't you? You'd do it for a few
dollar bills, wouldn't you, big man?"

No nigger has ever been known to turn down easy money. I took two
Jacksons and a Hamilton out of my wallet and dropped them on the floor
in front of him. The boy's eyes grew wide.

I unzipped my pants and pulled out my throbbing cock, "You're about to
be fucked, nigger boy. Get ready to enjoy it. I'm gonna fuck the
ghetto attitude out of your black ass."

I grabbed him from behind by his hips and rammed my cock inside the
boy's chocolate hole. I made repeated hard thrusts inside of him. He
cried out, "Lawdy." His buddies burst into nervous laughter.

 I picked up speed, thrusting deeper and deeper, "You feel me inside
of you, boy? You feel that white cock in your nigger ass?"

The boy didn't say anything. He grunted with pain. I stroked the boy's
long, thick black cock - making it hard again while I raped his ass. I
beat his lanky nigger meat until it pointed straight up like a stiff
dark club.

"Yeah, look at that hard nigger prick. You got a hard-on nigger. You
like getting fucked, don't you boy?"

His friends hooted. The boy tried to hide his face. I kept slamming
into his body, making him jerk with every thrust.

I pushed the boy's ass cheeks together so they felt snug against my
cock. I plowed his black ass, "All you niggers ever think about is sex
and money, isn't that right?"

The lanky chocolate brown boy was silent. He knew better than to
protest. He just grunted to the thrusts of my master cock in his
rectum.

"I'll bet, while you chase all of that white pussy, it has never
crossed your mind that someday you might have to bend over for
servicing too. It never occurred to you that your black ass might make
a nice, moist pussy for a horny white man." The boy grunted as my body
slammed into him.

"Did you ever stop to think your black ass might make a good pussy?"

The boy grunted, feeling my dick deep inside him, "No sah," his words
were part moan, part whine.

His buddies giggled uncontrollably.

"Well it does. That pussy is mine nigger. Your ass feels real good on
my cock."

The boy cried in humiliation. Sweat trickled from both of our bodies
as I gave my cock a good workout in his tight black ass. Wave after
wave of pleasure ran through my body as I fucked the boy's virgin ass
and pumped my seed inside of him.

When I was done using the nigger's ass I yanked my cock out of him and
watched cum trickle down his strong, smooth dark legs.

I surveyed the row of young niggers for my next victim.

I locked eyes with a beautiful caramel-colored black boy. He scrunched
up his angelic face and pursed his red lips, trying to look as mean
and intimidating as he could. The dark fuzz of an emerging mustache
made the hint of a shadow above his upper lip. He cocked his head to
one side as if to say, "Don't fuck wit me."

I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Here was a challenge I was
determined to master.

I pulled my eyes away from the boy just long enough to address the
group in general; "I had a conversation with an old black man today
who said that he's gotten where he is today by being 'nonchalant.'" I
smirked, "The man is sweeping up floors."

I fixed my eyes on the caramel-colored boy and said, "I'm about to
fuck your delicious brown ass for your own good. I don't want you to
grow up to be nonchalant. I'm gonna fuck the 'nonchalant' outta you."

One of the black boys turned to the boy next to him, "Yo, man, Why dat
muthafucka speakin' Spanish?"

Once again I stroked my cock, getting it ready to conquer black ass. I
turned the boy around and tugged down his boxer shorts. I pressed on
his back, forcing him to bend over, and shoved my hard white cock into
the brown boy's ass, making him cry out in pain.

I rubbed my hands over his muscular arms, shoulders and back. I
crooned in his ear, "Mmmmm, I like the color of your skin, boy. Shows
your mama and your grandmamma were whores for a bunch of white men."

His buddies whooped, "Oh no he didn't. I know he didn't go there."
They doubled over with laughter. The boy snapped his head around to
glare at me. He didn't look too happy. He knew better than to give me
backtalk.

I pushed deeper into the boy's anal crevice and grunted. "I bet your
grandma was a good fuck. I bet she had some good colored woman pussy.
I can tell by how good your ass feels on my dick right now."

His buddies burst into laugher. They pointed at the handsome brown boy
getting fucked.

I held the boy tight and fucked his brown harder. "There's white man
cum in your blood stream, isn't there nigger?"

The boy must have been confused by the ravaging of his tender young
ass. Between his grunts of pain he gasped, "I-I guess so." Maybe he
hoped this would get me to go easy on him. It didn't work.

His homeboys laughed uncontrollably. "He fuckin' dat nigga ass." The
boy's face flushed red in betrayal and humiliation. I push harder
inside of him. "You guess so? You guess so?"

My dick slammed into him. The meat of my thighs slapped against the
back of the boy's legs. The boy let out an audible whimper.

"Is it your family tradition to give that ass up so the massuh can
fuck it? Huh? Is it your family tradition, boy?"  This time he knew
better than to try to answer me. But his homeboys kept laughing
mercilessly. Maybe they had always dreamed of getting a piece of this
brown nigger's ass.

I fucked the boy rough. I made hard upward thrusts inside of him;
driving the point home that I owned him. I held him tight. Dug deep
inside. Each thrust of my cock lifted the boy's whole body up in the
air.

"I'm fucking you boy. I'm fucking you good."

I grunted hard. Sweat poured down my face. "Take that white cock in
your ass. Take it."

"I bet your mama would get off watching her baby boy take a white cock
in his ass, wouldn't she?"

The boy's face flushed red once again. His eyes blazed. He grunted
hard as he felt my cock conquering his nigger ass.

I pressed my psychological advantage. I grabbed a handful of the boy's
nappy hair and yanked his head back and continued, "It would show her
how helpless she is -she can't even stop her baby from being raped -
just like in the good old days."

I laughed in the boy's ear. He gritted his teeth with anger.

I gloated, "Yeah, I bet your mama would enjoy watching me tear her
boy's ass up. It would show her how trifling you young black males
are. She can't be protected from anything; not while her boy has a
white cock up his ass."

The boy's face was a picture of shame and embarrassment. I humped
violently in his ass.

"Where's your daddy, nigger? Did he abandon his boy to be a piece of
fuck meat for every white man who happens to come along and have power
over him?"

The boy was bent over and looked back at me.  His head was upside
down. His smooth brown face grimaced in agony. He gazed, from that
subordinated position, into the eyes of his verbal and physical
tormentor, unable to protest what I was doing to him.

I let out a growl and felt a fresh load of cum shoot from my penis
into the boy's brown ass. He cried, "Oh hell naw!" and buried his face
in the crook of his arm, weeping. My warm sticky semen filled his
bowls and ran down his legs.

"Oh yeah, nigger," I gasped collapsing with exhaustion on his back,
"That ass felt good. I could use that nigger ass more often. I should
take you home so I can use you whenever the fuck I want to." I
continued to fire short spurts of semen into the boy from my softening
erection.

His homeboys were beside themselves with laughter; enjoying the show.
So long as it wasn't their ass that was on the line, but someone
else's, they seemed to think it was the best entertainment ever. Black
boys enjoy raw displays of verbal and physical power. I gave them that
display in spades. They appreciated it.

***********************

I drove home that night feeling good about my accomplishment. It's not
every day one gets a chance to make an impression on the minds of
stubborn thick-headed young black boys. Let others cringe in fear as
gangs of Negro youth dance and swagger down city streets, laughing and
talking loud - with a chip on their shoulder. I know their secret. I
know what is really inside of them and how to use it. I know them
better than they know themselves. Now I enjoy having black boys
assigned to me. Knowledge is power.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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