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Subject: {ASSM} Correcting an Institutionalized Young Street Thug
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Date: Thu, 21 Aug 2008 06:10:01 -0400
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Correcting a Young Tough Street Thug

The following story is a work of creative fiction for erotic
entertainment purposes only. It is not intended for minors. It
contains graphic sexuality between an adult and an institutionalized
teenager, and racial humiliation. Anyone who might be offended by
these topics should look for something else to read.

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

People at the Juvenile detention center were always complaining that
Jamal was impossible to discipline. The staff at the center said he
was impossible to control. They knew I had a good track record in
working with tough cases. "Give me an afternoon with him," I said with
confidence, "I'm sure I can straighten the boy out."

I read the boy's file: born to a single mom; never knew his father;
had a reputation of acting hard on the streets because he thought this
was the way prove he was a man and to win respect on the streets; was
caught engaged in sexual "experimentation" with another fatherless
tough boy in the lavatory when he was still in middle school; and now
he was arrested for burglary when he and a bunch of his teenage
buddies broke into a jewelry store at night. Apparently his black
buddies pushed him into the arms of the security guard so they could
get away without being captured.

Then I saw the photo of the boy attached to the back of the folder. My
dick instantly grew stiff. He was just the kind of slender young
hoodlum that I most enjoyed breaking in. He had the tender mug of
young thug who was trying to be fierce. I pictured how he must have
looked when the school authorities caught him in the boy's room with
his dick pushed up inside of his homeboy's butt as the two fatherless
teenagers attempted to work out their sexual passions and gender roles
with each other.

I knew the type. He would be the first and loudest to talk about how
much he hated "faggots," and he would make the most obscene gestures
toward women, grabbing his crotch in public and eyeing them
aggressively, to confirm his masculinity as much to himself as to
everyone around him.

By the time I reached his room in the detention center I was prepared
to change the boy psychologically. I was prepared to graphically
demonstrate to him why the world would never be the way he hoped it
was. I didn't bother to introduce myself. I just looked into the baby-
thug's face, "Maybe people have to fear you on the streets, but in
here I'm the one with the authority."

I moved in on him, crowding him for space. "And in here you'll do
whatever I say."

The boy looked so tender and helpless, even under his tough and
intimidating exterior. I couldn't resist gently running the back of
hand down the boy's soft dark face. I sighed at the boy's beauty and
pushed my crotch up against his young body. He looked like he was
ready to cry. I caught my breath and continued, "And what I say right
now is 'take off all your clothes.'"

The boy hesitated, as if he misheard what I said to him. "You heard me
right, boy - I said take off your clothes. Let's see those baggy pants
slide down that smooth black ass of yours."

The boy slowly let his trousers drop. His eyes frantically darted
around the room as if he were hoping for a way to escape.

"There's no way out. You're about to learn what it means to be a
helpless, young, tough black boy in a correctional institution."

I pushed him on his bed and climbed on top of him. I put my cheek next
to his so I could feel the warmth of his young body. "Don't give me a
hard time, or I'll make this ten times worse for you." I reached under
his shirt and felt his nipples and his belly button. "I love watching
you ghetto hood rats on the street. I know sooner or later you will
get into trouble and wind up here with me - and I know just how to
deal with your hard-headed attitude."

I yanked off his t-shirt, exposing his smooth body. I moved my hands
over his chest and under his arm pits. I took in a deep breath of
musty smell. "Ahhh, I love the smell and the feel of that firm, black
body. You'll do whatever I want you to do with it too, you helpless
ghetto bastard."

I climbed between the boy's smooth black legs and eased my cock
between his tight, moist butt crack. My cock throbbed as the warm,
chocolaty insides of the boy caressed my stiff white pole.

"Ugggh. That nigger ass feels so good on my white cock."

The boy looked up at ceiling, his moist, wishing he was somewhere
else. I pushed hard in the boy's ass - going deeper. A grimace of pain
spread across his smooth black face.

"Ohhhhh. Take that dick boy. Take it."

The boy stared at the ceiling and blinked absently. He looked like a
captive enduring a rape. I pumped my cock inside of him, making slow
love to his tight body.

"Wrap your arms around me, boy. Pretend you love me."

Grudgingly the boy complied. I felt his smooth muscular arms enfold my
trunk. His hands rested on my back. He felt the rhythm of my body as I
pumped in and out of him - using him for the only thing that he was
good for.

The warmth of his breath enveloped my neck. I humped between his
boyish legs, whispering in his ear, "When you get out of here ... ugh,
ugh ... and if you ever find your father ... ugh, ugh ... tell him I said
thanks ... ugh, ugh ... for breeding such a nice, young black boy for me
to fuck ... ugh, ugh, ugh, ugggghhhhhhhh."

I savored the warmth and moisture of his body as I pushed up inside of
him.

Anger flashed across the boy's face, but he dare not say anything. He
bit his lower lip. His thick, black cock involuntarily stiffened,
betraying him - despite his humiliation. A long string of pre-cum -
like the clear strand of a spider's web - oozed out of his cock and
formed a slimy bridge to my navel.

I pulled the boy's warm body close to mine and held it tight. I humped
in his ass harder and faster. His baby-thug face pouted with
humiliation as I banged his ass. The sweat of our skin made sticky
slapping noises as I slammed into him.

"Take my cum, you fatherless nigger. Take it. Ugggghhhhhhh."

I erupted in an orgasm. I felt wave after wave of thick loads of cum
rush from my body into the boy's black ass. His face was contorted
with disgust. He closed his eyes as if this could shield him from the
reality of what was happening to him.

I relaxed, breathing heavily on the side of the boy's face, and
collapsed on his body. A river of hot cum ran from the boy's ass onto
his bed sheets while my cock remained embedded inside of him. I rested
on top of the boy for awhile. When I was done using him I drew myself
up on my knees and wiped my cock off on his thick lips and in his
black face.

I coated his lips, nose and cheek with a thin layer of the remaining
cum and his own ass juices. He scrunched up his face as if I were
doing something nasty to him.

When I got up, I pulled my clothes on and looked the kid in the eyes,
"Don't even think about reporting this to anyone or it will be worse
for you next time."

He slowly nodded that he understood and lowered his eyes, unable to
maintain contact. I took one last glance at him - I stared at his
young, masculine black body on top of the white bed sheets. He was
lying in a pool of cum; his own cock was semi-erect and glistened with
cock snot. His face was the very picture of shame. I knew that
psychologically he would never be the same again.

"Society should thank me," I said as I was leaving the room, "for
working so hard to give boys like you a proper change of attitude." I
shot one last glance at the naked boy, who was awkwardly trying to
cover his genitals with his bed sheet, "And I need to thank your
nigger neighborhood for breeding so many young tough boys without
fathers for me to fuck."

I didn't have any disciplinary problems out of him ever since that
day.

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