THE YEAR IS 1956
Ambrosia reached out and grabbed Trayvon's hand as they crossed the street.
He had let her hand go, as they had sometimes done out in public, in fear of drawing too much attention. Ambrosia, who was still basking in the afterglow of the amazing lay she had with Trayvon last night, felt an inner surge of rebellion. She wasn't going to live in shame. If people saw that she as a white female was dating an African-American male, they'd just have to deal with it.
It was getting dark this mid-December afternoon. There weren't too many people outside and the couple only had to walk a few blocks to reach Trayvon's aparment.
Ambrosia squeezed Trayvon's black hand with her pale hand, and smiled at him. He returned the smile, his big nostrils flaring and his thick lips widening.
Right then, a '54 Chevy pulled up behind them and slowed down conspicuously, following them at a distance. Eventually the driver's window came up behind them and a blonde kid shouted out:
"Hey ho! I thought that when we done gone fishing, we ain't goan be catching ourselves a muuuuudshark!"
Several voice sounding from inside the Chevy, laughing.
Trayvon quickened his steps and pulled Ambrosia forward.
"Hey! Be gentle with that h'white woman!" Said the boy, with an extra emphasis on the word "white".
The interracial couple moved away from the curb, creating some distance between them and the car. They seemed safe for a moment, when the boy hit the gas and the car moved forward to catch up with them.
Another, brown-haired kid stuck his head out from the rear window.
"You know what you are, gal? Yous a race traitor! You're betraying your own race!"
Another youth beside him added: "Your childen won't be white!" Then he started repeating it shrilly which had a particularly jarring effect. "YOUR CHILDREN WON'T BE WHITE! YOUR CHILDREN WON'T BE WHITE!"
Ambrosia and Trayvon started running. The car easily kept pace with them. The brown haired kid started chanting: "Hey nigger nigger, hey nigger nigger nigger, hey nigger nigger, hey nigger nigger, hey nigger nigger!" Then the driver made an abrupt turn, going right over the sidewalk and blocking Ambrosia and Trayvon's path. Ambrosia's heart jumped in fear when the stocky looking blonde boy jumped out of the front seat.
"You'd best skedaddle, hussy! You know what we do to nigger lovers around here???"
Trayvon head-butted him and quickly overpowered the blonde kid with his superior African strength. But then the kid's two companions jumped out of the rear seat. One of them pulled out
a shotgun. Trayvon hestitated and backed down for a moment when he saw this, and Ambrosia fled into a nearby alley, terrified of being shot. Meanwhile, the three white youths overcame Trayvon as one of them
started hitting Trayvon across the knees with the shotgun. They eventually brought him low and pinned him down, continuing to whack him with the butt of the shotgun.
"You thought you was gonna **** a white woman tonight, nigger?!!"
The blonde kid, who was no older than 17, looked down at Trayvon, with fury burning in his pale blue eyes. Then his expression turned serious.
"I am the Guardian of Anglo-Saxon blood. I am the Holy White Avenging Angel, and I bring the wrath of God."
He reached into his shirt and pulled out a medallion that displayed a white cross with a droplet of blood in the center. It was the emblem of the KKK.
"This is for the Protection of White Womanhood. May ye burn in the righteous fires of Hell, you dirty nigger devil." He pronounced.
"Aaaahaaa! Get him!" The other boys laughed in approval.
"SO LONG NIGGER, SO LONG..."
Trayvon's eyes widened in terror, and the last thing he saw was the the bootsole coming down on top of his face, curbstomping the life out of Ambrosia's lover in one cruel moment.
The blonde kid would get away with this crime and he would grow up to marry a white beauty queen. They had a ******** and they named her Kelsie-Marie. One day, Kelsie-Marie, staying true to her white bloodline, would marry the esteemed Richard Stephens.
Meanwhile, Trayvon's sister, who's life was ruined by the gruesome curbstomp murder of her brother, went on to marry a black man and have a black child. That child would grow into a man, and he would bear a son by the name of Du'Shawn, but the ****** would never truly recover from the generational trauma.
* * *
2019, TWO MONTHS AFTER HOMECOMING
"Why," Began Mrs. Taylor, the U.S. history teacher, "Are black men in our country better athletes? Why are professional sports teams dominated by black males?"
Maddie, the perky little blonde cheerleader who never missed a chance to participate in class, raised her hand.
"Ooh ooh, I know! It's because blacks are naturally more athletic."
"Incorrect!" Replied Mrs. Taylor. "If you go to modern-day Africa and other countries, you will see many skinny and average-looking black people. You, see class, only African-Americans stand out as distinctly more athletic. Anyone know why?"
The students were stumped.
"It is because of slavery, class!" She exclaimed, emphatically revealing the answer to her question. "It is an effect of systemic racism! In the early 19th century, slave owners would pick out the strongest slaves in the slave trade to be laborers, callously separating families. Then they bred them with other slaves. Little did they know they were forming a superhuman breed of virile Blacks that would one day win their freedom... (the implication of what this meant was palpable as the male students frowned while the female students wondered).
"Remember..." Continued Mrs. Taylor (who by the way had a cucked husband, multiple black lovers and three biracial children) that most of the black people in U.S. descended from slaves and are owed reparations. It's a uniquely American phenomenon."
Julie listened, enraptured. She was fascinated, and could not stop thinking of Tyrone's big black cock. It was on her mind virtually 24/7. She was feeling so alive and inspired these days. She wondered if swallowing Tyrone's cum was starting to change her from within.
At the end of class, she excitedly checked her phone when she saw the notification light was blinking. Maybe Tyrone had finally texted her? She scowled when she saw the text was not from Tyrone, but from John. She was getting really fed up with John and decided to vent her frustrations to Annelise during lunch.
"This whiteboi keeps stalking me! I am so tired of hearing from him! What am I gonna do!"
"And Tyrone STILL hasn't texted me! Do you think he lost my number? Maybe he didn't get it."
"Come to kickboxing class with me." Suggested Annelise. "You could learn to fight the whiteboi off if you had to." The girls giggled.
Annelise continuted, "then we could do some barbell squats, build up that booty. Black guys love a thick ass, but you gotta work for it!" Unlike Annelise, Julie had never been athletic but decided to get out of her comfort zone and come along to the class. Maybe Tyrone didn't like her enough because her ass wasn't big like a black girl's, she wondered.
* * *
During the next few weeks, Julie began changing. What had been a shy, demure girl started acting more confident and aggressive, shocking her ****** as she strutted into the house after a good gym session, her newly-toned ass bulging in tight yoga shorts. She began speaking in ebonics and cussing more often, much to her ******'s chagrin. She began referring to her older brother Lucas as "bitch". Do your own laundry, bitch. Stop leaving dirty dishes in the sink, you little bitch! Lucas was dismayed, remembering the old days when Julie looked up to him and they had enjoyed Disneyland rides together. Now she was treating him with such scorn. What had happened to her?
By day, Julie would squat obsessively at the gym, further toning her ass and legs. By night she would draft new pamphlets and join social media trends such as #SnowBunny69 and #stopwhitebois2k19.
She had grown completely frigid towards John, refusing to ever reply to his texts or even acknowledge his presence in the rare precious moments when he saw her at school.
John, however, would not give up, staying up late at night on anonymous twitter handles, chasing after clues and hashtags that connected to Julie's social media, trying to piece together the figments so he could learn anything about Julie's life and what she did with her time. John once saw that she retweeted #Snowgang and he wondered what that meant. He continued delving into the mystery but could not solve it.
One morning Kelsie's mouth dropped open when she saw Julie walk right past her to the front door, wearing tight leggings with long see-through slit and a tiny haltertop with some gangster slogan on it.
By now Kelsie knew nothing she could say would stop Julie and her new aggressive attitude, and deep down in the white mother's heart it sparked a tiny curiosity.
One evening over dinner, Julie went into a profane rant filled with ebonics and Richard suddenly snapped at her, yelling "that is not how a h'white girl should speak!"
Kelsie stared at her husband and was appalled. "How dare you make such a racist comment!" She yelled.
Husband & wife went into the kitchen and started having a yelling match, culminating with Richard slapping Kelsie in the face and her running upstairs crying. Richard slept on the couch that night.
They made up later on, as Richard was able to bring his conservative and ever-loyal wife back under his heel. Kelsie had not discovered the same female empowerment that her ******** found.
At least not yet...
* * *
Today was the official first gathering of a new girls-only club Julie formed in school. The dominant, Germanic trait in the Stephens ****** line, a ****** of leaders, was manifesting itself in Julie, but ironically, she was using her innate gifts of organization discipline **against** the male chromosome of her own bloodline, in the sense that the modern day feminist girl-power revolution gave her ultimate reproductive freedom to choose the strongest males, with no racist barriers. Creating interracial children from an extremely divergent lineage would give her the best of both worlds -- Julie utterly believed this was a scientific fact. Today was a new stage of evolution for the white female. This was the message Julie was determined to spread.
The new club was called Snowgang. Only the hottest white girls were invited, and in order to become a "Snowbunny" or official member of the club, a girl had to hook up with a black guy and swallow every drop of his jizz -- this was the initiation rite to become an official member of the club.
During lunch, the girls gathered in a classroom which Julie had reserved for her new club. Above the entrance a sign read: THE ARC OF SOCIAL JUSTICE LEADS HERE.
"The stated mission of Snowgang:" announced Julie, as she unveiled a big poster with her perfect, neat European white-girl handwriting, written with a sparkly pink gel pen.
1. Become better at twerking than black girls. The fusion of European precision in choreography with the free sexual expression of the African female will create a beautiful combination of cultures --the best of both worlds. We are shameless in expressing our female sexuality. We are free of shame, and Black men deserve us so we need to show this and prove it to them through the act of twerking, a primal African behavior that originated from the slaves in Louisiana plantations.
(the girls listened, fascinated)
2. Stop whitebois everywhere. Whitebois are perverted stalkers who are sexually inadequate. Being with a whiteboi deprives the girl of the sexual fulfillment she deserves. The modern female must become strong and assertive so she can intimidate whitebois from pursuing her
and force them to retreat into their mancaves where they can jerk each other off to porn all day. It's easier than you think!
3. Make reparations to black men by having their babies. The ultimate act of atonement for slavery is to make our wombs exclusive to African DNA which is stronger and more capable. We will enable Blacks to "steal" valuable white genes such as intelligence, high IQ, green/blue eyes, etc. and incorporate it into the greater African-American bloodstream.
We will get optimal sexual pleasure as well as strong and resilient black children. This is how we destroy the white partriarchy. It's a win-win situation for all us white females, and conversely, it's lose-lose for whitebois and their history of oppression. This is natural selection and social justice at work! Girls are entitled to pursue the males they are most attracted to. Males who are unwanted by girls are DISPOSABLE."
Even Annelise, who had always led the charge in risky and outgoing behavior, was floored by how extreme Julie's rhetoric had become.
"Black men are so much hotter!" Shouted Ellen, one of the girls.
"Whitebois aren't close! They aren't even... men." Added Stephanie, the pale brunette who was regularly seeing Jamal now.
"We will meet here every week. I am planning an official Snowgang party in the near future, where many of you for the first time will get to taste Negro semen."
"I bet it tastes so good!"
"Mmm I crave that African musk!"
"I bet black men smell so much better than whitebois!"
* * *
Julie was walking to the school parking lot one afternoon, formulating plans for the big Snowgang event she was planning. What location would she pick, she wondered. She wanted to do it in her house but how would she deal with her mom... more importantly, how would she deal with her ***, Richard Stephens III, one of the proudest white men in the nation?
She fell into a morose confusion, wondering how exactly she could make her dreams a reality. The weather was turning cold as February approached, and Julie started feeling empty and sad.
That was when her phone lit up. Expecting it to be some stupid text she didn't care about, Julie swiped her password and then her entire world lit up and her heart floated as if butterflies had surrounded it and lifted it up. A giant smile lit up her face.
It was a message from Tyrone! She hadn't heard from him since that one night she and Liza had sucked him off several months ago.
"Yo bitch, I needz some money. Wanna help a nigga steal some loot?"
That was all the message said. Julie was absolutely thrilled! She was totally okay with being called a "bitch", black men were allowed to say whatever words they wanted.
They deserve to, because of slavery. Besides, Julie kind of liked being called "bitch". It turned her on.
"Sure, you can rob my daddy. Meet me at midnight on Lancaster Dr." She texted back. Her *** was so rich and privileged, it was totally okay and legal for a black man to steal from him, because of slavery.
* * *
Meanwhile, Lucas picked up his friend, Bobby, a gangly kid with long, unkempt tousled hair, who wore a flannel as if it was the 1990s.
"Sup Luke!" Said Bobby as he stepped into the yellow Lamborghini.
Lucas replied: "So where's the hook up?" Lucas, who thought of himself as very hardcore and badass, was ready to acquire some speed. He knew that being an alpha he could handle hard drugs and they sure wouldn't be a problem for him.
"Take this ramp, get on the freeway and take the second exit."
Lucas followed his directions and the two white boys entered the seedy part of town. The scenery was a stark contrast to the neighborhood they had left. The one thing that set it apart was that every he looked, Lucas saw black people on the streets. He felt secure that he was now armed.
"I know this dealer, bro, he can get us some gooood shit." Said Bobby. Lucas gripped the steering wheel, thrilled with anticipation at taking speed again. To him it was the best drug ever. It made him feel omnipotent. He remembered last time Bobby had shared some speed with him, it made Lucas feel like a God. He longed to experience that godly feeling again.
They arrived at an alley. Bobby exited the car and entered a run-down looking shack with two chained pitbulls in the front yard, who were barking at Lucas relentlessly. Lucas kept his hand close to the glove compartment in case something happened and he needed to employ his "self-defense".
After a wait that seemed too long, Bobby finally came out of the building with a brown paper bag in hand. He grinned at Lucas.
It was late afternoon by then and Lucas was eager to get out of the ghetto. His Lamborghini was drawing too much attention, as many of the Blacks and Hispanics on the streets glowered at him as he drove by.
Bobby wasn't nearly as scared. They saw a black girl with a huge ass in booty shorts walking down the streets.
"Wooow would you look at that! Hey let's have her come along with us!"
Lucas replied: "I'm not into black girls. They're fugly and I heard they smell bad. That ass is TOO fat."
Bobby ignored him and rolled down the window.
"Holla!" He yelled out. "You wanna roll wit us?"
Lucas protested but the girl smiled and said: "Sure I'll roll with y'all! What's good!"
"Muh name's Jaqueefa. I'm holding mad green!"
"Hey Luke, let her in! She's got weed!"
That was enough to convince Lucas.
* * *
Night descended. As Richard snoozed and drooled in his master bedroom with Kelsie fast asleep beside him, Julie lay wide awake waiting for the clock to strike midnight.
She texted Tyrone. "OK, I've disabled the security system and unlocked the door. Come on in ; ) <3"
As the state-of-the-art camera and security system of the Stephens Mansion went dead, Tyrone, flanked by Jamal and Du'Shawn, entered the house. Annelise was in on the heist, and she waited outside in her car as Julie's "back up" friend.
"Holy fucking shit!" Exclaimed Tyrone when he saw how opulent the interior of the house was.
Julie crept downstairs and almost swooned when she saw her obsession again. So tall, strong, and confident.
"Here, follow me to my Daddy's prized memorabilia collection."
Tyrone eyed Julie up and down, admiring her newly-sculpted figure in her sheer black leggings and sports bra. "Damn girl, you look good!" Julie blushed.
The three black youths then pulled out some huge plastic bags and started taking everything of value in the house they could.
* * *
Lucas drove back to town and parked in the darkness at a deserted supermarket parking lot in an area obscured by trees.
"Right here is good." Said Bobby. The three of them passed around a spoon and a lighter, freebasing the meth. Bobby then moved to the back seat so he could start rolling a blunt. Jaqueefa moved up into the passenger seat next to Lucas. Lucas tried not to make eye contact with her. He was not into black girls at all!
He always thought they had ugly, monkey-like faces and looked like men. He remembered making jokes about how ugly Michelle Obama was with his friends. Lucas promised himself that he would only date white girls his entire life. But then Jaqueefa lifted her leg and placed it on Lucas's lap.
Lucas instantly got hard. Jaqueefa shifted her thigh closer to Lucas's small penis. The weight of her leg on his groin was too much to handle, and Lucas ejaculated all over the inside of his boxers.
Jaqueefa sensed this and laughed. "Wooooow. That's all you got, whiteboi? Daaaamn."
Bobby said: "Back over here, babe! It's my turn!"
The drug was kicking in and it made Lucas feel anxious.
Bobby and Jaqueefa started messing around in the backseat while Lucas, who was getting paranoid, turned the keys in the ignition and started driving around aimlessly.
The speed combined with the marijuana was making Lucas's head spin. The night scenery spun around him like melting colors and he desperately tried to keep his senses and drive properly, while Bobby began groping at Jaqueefa's saggy, black tits, sucking fiendishly on her huge nipples.
Lucas was feeling sick to the stomach but he wouldn't dare tell his passengers that he wasn't good to drive. That is not alpha behavior.
He slowly drove around town when Bobby yelled at him: "Hey lets go pick up some Hardee's! They're open 24 hrs."
Jaqueefa, who was sucking on Bobby's average sized penis, able to easily deepthroat the entire white prick in her large black mouth, stopped momentarily.
"Hell yea, I'm hungry." *slurp slurp* "I wants a double cheeseburgah!" *slurp* "wit a large fry and extra large coke!"
Lucas was too heavily stoned to protest. He was so fucked up from the drug he was having trouble even being able to speak.
He remembered he had to get on the freeway briefly to arrive at the exit where Hardee's was.
Jaqueefa was now taking off Bobby's shorts, and moved her massive, flabby haunches, dark brown skin with ripples of cellulite across it, as she climbed on top of Bobby. The two were extremely high and horny and paid no attention to what was going on around them.
Lucas drove up on the ramp, signaled, looked over his left shoulder momentarily, and hit the gas, merging onto the freeway.
He didn't see the massive 18-wheeler truck in the far right lane that subsequently slammed into the Lamborghini, tossing the car up into the air were it flipped twice before landing on the shoulder of the freeway, ahead of the ramp.
The airbag completely shielded Lucas from harm as he was numb to the shock. He stayed conscious. The crystal meth in his system made him feel sharp & unperturbed. He realized that he had to escape before the police showed up.
He was not about to get a DUI and go to jail.
He grabbed his Desert Eagle from the glove compartment, opened the door, and crawled out of the wrecked Lamborghini. Slightly hobbled, he quickly ran down the freeway ramp, and when he was twenty feet away, the Lamborghini's engine exploded and the vehicle burst into flame with Bobby and Jaqueefa still inside. Lucas stumbled onto the asphalt from the reverberating shock of the explosion, scraping his chin hard on the asphalt, but he quickly picked himself up, still holding onto the pistol, and jumped over the concrete slab, escaping into the dense bushes beneath the freeway ramp. In his speed-addled mind all he could think about was finding his way home, where he would be safe from the police. He'll get away with this, he thought, he was confident that he could escape and no one will ever know what happened.
Meanwhile, fire trucks and ambulances arrived at the scene. Firefighters doused the burning car, and paramedics pulled the two charred corpses out of the wrecked Lamborghini.
* * *
Julie stood in the living room with her arms crossed, proud of allowing these 3 Negroes into her house to rob her white father blind. It was the least she could do to atone for slavery.
However, she wasn't expecting Tyrone, Du'Shaun and Jamal to go upstairs to her parents' bedroom. Next thing she knows, her father, the esteemed businessman and tycoon was being dragged down the stairs, tied up and protesting red-faced with a gag in his mouth. When he saw his ******** standing there calmly in the living room, his eyes widened in horror.
Kelsie followed behind them in her pink bathrobe, screaming and clawing at the blacks to let her husband go. Then she saw her ******** and yelled: "Oh my god! Julie! Call the police! They're gonna **** us!"
Julie stared into her mom's eyes and says:
"It's okay, I want them to **** us. I wouldn't call it ****, mom. This is reparations for slavery. It's the start of a new breeding movement and the black new world order."
Kelsie paused. She couldn't believe the perpetrator of this home invasion was her own ********. Whereas before she was traumatized when 3 black thugs broke into her bedroom and, now when she realized Julie was behind this, she felt slightly safer, and calmer. Maybe the white mother could get this situation under control. It wasn't really a criminal home invasion if her own ******** was involved.
Jamal turned and motioned at the the white women. "Right this way, bitches."
They dragged Richard into the basement and tied him to a chair. Julie then slowly walked over to Tyrone, and threw her arms around him, kissing passionately, right in front of her tied & bound father. Kelsie reached the bottom of her stairs, standing helplessly in her bathrobe, awestruck at what she was witnessing before her.
Then Du'Shawn, who had finished looting Lucas's room, came down the stairs holding a crimson red, blue and white fabric in his hands.
"Wtf is dis shit??? You know what racists did to my uncle??" He held it up in front of Kelsie' face. It was Lucas's Confederate flag. There were tears of rage suspended in Du'Shawn's eyes.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." Stammered Kelsie. "I tried telling my son not to display that in his room and-"
"Hush! On your knees, bitch!" Du'Shawn spread the Confederate flag out on the floor.
Then, the three black males all dropped their trousers. Julie, the formerly demure white teenager who had utterly transformed in the span of a few months, smiled at her mother and said:
"We owe them this, because of systemic racism and oppression. They deserve it. Besides, its fun!" She then got on her knees, on top of the Confederate flag, and starting sucking Tryone, then Jamal, and then Du'Shawn, slobbering on the cocks, her drool dripping down and staining the flag. Kelsie could not take her eyes off the scene, she was utterly enchanted by the sight of her beautiful, slender ******** attempting to wrap her tiny thin lips around the gigantic, evolutionarily divergent black cocks that couldn't possibly fit. Kelsie than rationalized in her mind that her ******** was correct. Black men deserved to take everything they wanted from whites, as atonement for the atrocities during the Antebellum & Jim
Crow eras. With that, she dropped all inhibition, and got on her knees next to her ********, her dainty white hand wrapped around Du'Shawn's thick cock (he was the thickest of the three) and her pristine white mouth, which had only ever kissed & pleasured her husband, came in contact with the purplish-black cock head. The smell of the African musk turned her on immensely and she was totally hypnotized.
The wife and ******** went into a sensual trance, slowly carressing and fondling black cock and balls as Richard struggled helplessly tied to the chair. At one point, Julie laid down on her back and thoroughly rimmed Jamal's sweaty, musky anus, diligently using her tongue to clean it, while her mother sucked his cock.
Richard writhed in his bindings, mumbling and emitting incomprehensible sounds. At some point he even started crying. His wife and ********, transfixed by the three black cocks in front of them, seemed to forget he existed.
* * *
Annelise sat in her car, bored, with rap music lightly coming out of the speakers. She wondered what was going on inside the Stephens mansions. She felt like going inside to get some BBC but she had promised Julie she'd stay outside and make sure that if police showed up, she would smile charmingly and inform them everything was OK. That was the plan.
She started craving sex and reached towards her door handle to exit the car, when she barely saw a person suddenly arrive at the bottom of the hill, where a private road led up to the main driveway.
In the darkness she could barely make out that it was a male. He seemed to be stumbling. Annelise crouched down low, and when he came beneath the lamp post she recognized it was Lucas, Julie's asshole older brother. He looked a mess! There was blood all over his chin, and his shirt was torn. More concerningly, he was brandishing a gold pistol. Lucas stumbled over to the front door, then attempted to enter in the door code, and seemed suprised that the security system was unresponsive. He then turned the handle to find the door unlocked, and went in.
Annelise, who had by now developed an innate hostility to white males as a result of her friends' #SnowGang brainwashing, suddenly realized there was a problem on their hands.
* * *
"WTF ARE YOU NIGGERS DOING IN MY HOUSE!"
The scream came from above, interrupting the smutty interracial erotic scene in the basement. Lucas was pointing his golden Desert Eagle at Tyrone, who was defenseless with his pants down, with Lucas's mother and Lucas's sister topless on their knees in front of him.
Julie's heart pounded.
"Oh my god, Luke, don't shoot, please..."
Lucas, a possessed and maddened look in his pale blue eyes, was still flying high on the effects of crystal meth combined with weed. He had a bloody scratch across his face and his shirt was torn. There was some blood dripping down from a reopened cut on his chin which he had scraped on the freeway ramp.
"Like hell I'm not gonna shoot! Hell I'll shoot you race traitors too while I'm at it! I give a fuck!"
Kelsie had a meltdown and started crying.
And just as Lucas was about to pull the trigger, suddenly a scream came through the door, and Annelise appeared, swooping down the stairs in a flying roundhouse kick, spiking the revolver out of Lucas's hands. The desert eagle flew into the air and clattered onto the floor in front of Julie.
Lucas slowly got on his knees and starting begging.
"Oh my god, my sister, I love you! I love you mom! Please, give me the gun... give me the gun..."
Julie slowly picked up the pistol, as if she was contemplating the decision, but she had her mind made up. She stared at her brother coldly, and slowly got up and handed the pistol to Tyrone.
"This is for social justice." She said.
"Time to meet your maker, whiteboi." Laughed Tyrone, and put a bullet through Lucas's forehead. Lucas crumpled to the basement floor, and then police sirens could be heard coming from outside.
FIVE YEARS LATER
Rhiannon, the maid of the Griffin household (once known as the Stephens mansion) used a pink duster to clean the corners of Beyonce's bedroom.
Much had changed over the past few years, but Rhiannon, the sissy maid who once called herself Richard, had come to accept her new place in life. Lucas, once proudly known as the scion of the Stephens household, had gotten lucky, as the bullet grazed his brain and he survived with permanent brain damage. He had been wanted by police that night after the catastrophic accident, for driving under the influence. He was in jail for life and Rhiannon's pride was utterly crushed by the event.
Today, she worried slightly about getting jumped and ***** when she'd have to return to her low-cost shared studio apartment tonight, but it was all she could afford. She was getting hungry and looked forward to her dinner of NISSIN cup noodles and Oscar Mayer hot dogs, which she had purchased at the dollar store this morning. Rhiannon would some times still cry, but she was way past lamenting her colossal downfall from CEO to sissy maid.
Deep down she accepted that her new life, deprived of all luxury and privilege, was a necessary atonement for the systemic racism in the USA.
After Julie and Kelsie had coerced her into signing over all her possessions to Tyrone Griffin, and after the divorce, Rhiannon actually felt lucky to at least have a job working for $7.25 an hour as a maid in the mansion that once upon a time, when she was called Richard, belonged to her. It was better than being on the streets and picking through dumpsters.
The 4-year old Beyonce, Kelsie and Tyrone's ********, was at her birthday party and Rhiannon felt relieved they weren't home. This was the tiny rare opportunity she had.
She crept over to the living room and stared at pictures of the "new ******", set aside her broom, and started masturbating feverishly, or at least attempting to stroke through the pink cock cage she was forced to wear at all times....
...."Oh my god! I caught her again!"
Screamed Julie when she suddenly walked in the kitchen. She looked nothing like the old Julie. Her hair was darkened to a rich brown, and was done up in Africanized cornrows with braids hanging down. By now, her ass had grown shockingly big. There was a slight bump in her stomach.
Her formerly alabaster face was turned brownish by some advanced tanning spray formula. She had even gone to a plastic surgeon for lip injections. What had once been derisively referred to by racists as "nigger lips" was now a sought-after facial feature.
She wore very tight capris and a sports bra emblazoned with the word "Snowgang" which had become Julie's massively successful clothing brand, complete with original slogans like the one displayed on the back of her capris. It said: "BUILT FOR BLACK".
Kelsie followed in behind her, looking radically different and Africanized much like her ********. She proudly wore clothes from her ********'s clothing line. Today she was wearing tight leggings like her ******** and a halter top which read: "NO whitebois" emblazoned across her tits.
Kelsie made an expression of scorn and digust when she looked down at the sheepish, red-faced maid, the creature who was once her beloved husband.
"I guess you were right, ********. We're gonna have to castrate!"
Rhiannon's heart palpitated in fear. The two women always threatened her with mutilation but she fully believed the threats. In the Black New World Order, Rhiannon had no rights.
Rhiannon couldn't help it and looked up at "his" ********. This was a big no-no because it was forbidden for whitebois to look at white women.
"UGH! It stared at me! I saw its eyes!"
Kelsie responded: "Well we might have to gouge them out then! At least she knows she's not allowed to talk, or else we'd have to cut out the tongue too!"
Both females laughed derisively. Then Tyrone walked in behind them. Kelsie put her arm around her black husband and gave him a passionate kiss, while Julie stroked his arm.
"What the fuck is this shit?" Said Tyrone, looking down at the obsequious maid, who had made a mess of a tiny dribble semen on the floor in front of her.
He gave her a sharp kick. "Go into your crate! NOW!"
"Make her lick it up first!" Yelled Julie.
Rhiannon, her eyes fixed to the floor, licked her worthless white DNA off the wooden floor as best she could, and then crawled over to the corner of the house and into her doggie crate where she was to sit until further instructions. She wished she could go home to her crappy apartment, it was better than being in the presence of Julie, Kelsie and Tyrone, who terrified Rhiannon to the core. She sat there mindlessly, trying not to think about anything while Julie, Kelsie and Tyrone went in the kitchen to enjoy their take-out lunch. This was the new reality, like a neverending nightmare that she couldn't wake up from. After centuries of injustice, it was the Black man's most powerful weapon: the Big Black Cock that won, and would go on to completely purge all whiteness from the Stephens bloodline. It was a victory won not through the use of firearms, but through the nonviolent and sexually virile power of big black cock and its total influence over white women. It wasn't the black male who brought racial justice to America. It was the white female.
THE END
.... OR IS IT??
And what of John, you ask? John remained a virgin and had turned into Jenny, and managed to build up a decent career as a crossdressing cam girl with a variety of black dildos to play with. She, too, came to accept her place and chose to accept the reality of natural selection and modern day female power and equality.
Ambrosia reached out and grabbed Trayvon's hand as they crossed the street.
He had let her hand go, as they had sometimes done out in public, in fear of drawing too much attention. Ambrosia, who was still basking in the afterglow of the amazing lay she had with Trayvon last night, felt an inner surge of rebellion. She wasn't going to live in shame. If people saw that she as a white female was dating an African-American male, they'd just have to deal with it.
It was getting dark this mid-December afternoon. There weren't too many people outside and the couple only had to walk a few blocks to reach Trayvon's aparment.
Ambrosia squeezed Trayvon's black hand with her pale hand, and smiled at him. He returned the smile, his big nostrils flaring and his thick lips widening.
Right then, a '54 Chevy pulled up behind them and slowed down conspicuously, following them at a distance. Eventually the driver's window came up behind them and a blonde kid shouted out:
"Hey ho! I thought that when we done gone fishing, we ain't goan be catching ourselves a muuuuudshark!"
Several voice sounding from inside the Chevy, laughing.
Trayvon quickened his steps and pulled Ambrosia forward.
"Hey! Be gentle with that h'white woman!" Said the boy, with an extra emphasis on the word "white".
The interracial couple moved away from the curb, creating some distance between them and the car. They seemed safe for a moment, when the boy hit the gas and the car moved forward to catch up with them.
Another, brown-haired kid stuck his head out from the rear window.
"You know what you are, gal? Yous a race traitor! You're betraying your own race!"
Another youth beside him added: "Your childen won't be white!" Then he started repeating it shrilly which had a particularly jarring effect. "YOUR CHILDREN WON'T BE WHITE! YOUR CHILDREN WON'T BE WHITE!"
Ambrosia and Trayvon started running. The car easily kept pace with them. The brown haired kid started chanting: "Hey nigger nigger, hey nigger nigger nigger, hey nigger nigger, hey nigger nigger, hey nigger nigger!" Then the driver made an abrupt turn, going right over the sidewalk and blocking Ambrosia and Trayvon's path. Ambrosia's heart jumped in fear when the stocky looking blonde boy jumped out of the front seat.
"You'd best skedaddle, hussy! You know what we do to nigger lovers around here???"
Trayvon head-butted him and quickly overpowered the blonde kid with his superior African strength. But then the kid's two companions jumped out of the rear seat. One of them pulled out
a shotgun. Trayvon hestitated and backed down for a moment when he saw this, and Ambrosia fled into a nearby alley, terrified of being shot. Meanwhile, the three white youths overcame Trayvon as one of them
started hitting Trayvon across the knees with the shotgun. They eventually brought him low and pinned him down, continuing to whack him with the butt of the shotgun.
"You thought you was gonna **** a white woman tonight, nigger?!!"
The blonde kid, who was no older than 17, looked down at Trayvon, with fury burning in his pale blue eyes. Then his expression turned serious.
"I am the Guardian of Anglo-Saxon blood. I am the Holy White Avenging Angel, and I bring the wrath of God."
He reached into his shirt and pulled out a medallion that displayed a white cross with a droplet of blood in the center. It was the emblem of the KKK.
"This is for the Protection of White Womanhood. May ye burn in the righteous fires of Hell, you dirty nigger devil." He pronounced.
"Aaaahaaa! Get him!" The other boys laughed in approval.
"SO LONG NIGGER, SO LONG..."
Trayvon's eyes widened in terror, and the last thing he saw was the the bootsole coming down on top of his face, curbstomping the life out of Ambrosia's lover in one cruel moment.
The blonde kid would get away with this crime and he would grow up to marry a white beauty queen. They had a ******** and they named her Kelsie-Marie. One day, Kelsie-Marie, staying true to her white bloodline, would marry the esteemed Richard Stephens.
Meanwhile, Trayvon's sister, who's life was ruined by the gruesome curbstomp murder of her brother, went on to marry a black man and have a black child. That child would grow into a man, and he would bear a son by the name of Du'Shawn, but the ****** would never truly recover from the generational trauma.
* * *
2019, TWO MONTHS AFTER HOMECOMING
"Why," Began Mrs. Taylor, the U.S. history teacher, "Are black men in our country better athletes? Why are professional sports teams dominated by black males?"
Maddie, the perky little blonde cheerleader who never missed a chance to participate in class, raised her hand.
"Ooh ooh, I know! It's because blacks are naturally more athletic."
"Incorrect!" Replied Mrs. Taylor. "If you go to modern-day Africa and other countries, you will see many skinny and average-looking black people. You, see class, only African-Americans stand out as distinctly more athletic. Anyone know why?"
The students were stumped.
"It is because of slavery, class!" She exclaimed, emphatically revealing the answer to her question. "It is an effect of systemic racism! In the early 19th century, slave owners would pick out the strongest slaves in the slave trade to be laborers, callously separating families. Then they bred them with other slaves. Little did they know they were forming a superhuman breed of virile Blacks that would one day win their freedom... (the implication of what this meant was palpable as the male students frowned while the female students wondered).
"Remember..." Continued Mrs. Taylor (who by the way had a cucked husband, multiple black lovers and three biracial children) that most of the black people in U.S. descended from slaves and are owed reparations. It's a uniquely American phenomenon."
Julie listened, enraptured. She was fascinated, and could not stop thinking of Tyrone's big black cock. It was on her mind virtually 24/7. She was feeling so alive and inspired these days. She wondered if swallowing Tyrone's cum was starting to change her from within.
At the end of class, she excitedly checked her phone when she saw the notification light was blinking. Maybe Tyrone had finally texted her? She scowled when she saw the text was not from Tyrone, but from John. She was getting really fed up with John and decided to vent her frustrations to Annelise during lunch.
"This whiteboi keeps stalking me! I am so tired of hearing from him! What am I gonna do!"
"And Tyrone STILL hasn't texted me! Do you think he lost my number? Maybe he didn't get it."
"Come to kickboxing class with me." Suggested Annelise. "You could learn to fight the whiteboi off if you had to." The girls giggled.
Annelise continuted, "then we could do some barbell squats, build up that booty. Black guys love a thick ass, but you gotta work for it!" Unlike Annelise, Julie had never been athletic but decided to get out of her comfort zone and come along to the class. Maybe Tyrone didn't like her enough because her ass wasn't big like a black girl's, she wondered.
* * *
During the next few weeks, Julie began changing. What had been a shy, demure girl started acting more confident and aggressive, shocking her ****** as she strutted into the house after a good gym session, her newly-toned ass bulging in tight yoga shorts. She began speaking in ebonics and cussing more often, much to her ******'s chagrin. She began referring to her older brother Lucas as "bitch". Do your own laundry, bitch. Stop leaving dirty dishes in the sink, you little bitch! Lucas was dismayed, remembering the old days when Julie looked up to him and they had enjoyed Disneyland rides together. Now she was treating him with such scorn. What had happened to her?
By day, Julie would squat obsessively at the gym, further toning her ass and legs. By night she would draft new pamphlets and join social media trends such as #SnowBunny69 and #stopwhitebois2k19.
She had grown completely frigid towards John, refusing to ever reply to his texts or even acknowledge his presence in the rare precious moments when he saw her at school.
John, however, would not give up, staying up late at night on anonymous twitter handles, chasing after clues and hashtags that connected to Julie's social media, trying to piece together the figments so he could learn anything about Julie's life and what she did with her time. John once saw that she retweeted #Snowgang and he wondered what that meant. He continued delving into the mystery but could not solve it.
One morning Kelsie's mouth dropped open when she saw Julie walk right past her to the front door, wearing tight leggings with long see-through slit and a tiny haltertop with some gangster slogan on it.
By now Kelsie knew nothing she could say would stop Julie and her new aggressive attitude, and deep down in the white mother's heart it sparked a tiny curiosity.
One evening over dinner, Julie went into a profane rant filled with ebonics and Richard suddenly snapped at her, yelling "that is not how a h'white girl should speak!"
Kelsie stared at her husband and was appalled. "How dare you make such a racist comment!" She yelled.
Husband & wife went into the kitchen and started having a yelling match, culminating with Richard slapping Kelsie in the face and her running upstairs crying. Richard slept on the couch that night.
They made up later on, as Richard was able to bring his conservative and ever-loyal wife back under his heel. Kelsie had not discovered the same female empowerment that her ******** found.
At least not yet...
* * *
Today was the official first gathering of a new girls-only club Julie formed in school. The dominant, Germanic trait in the Stephens ****** line, a ****** of leaders, was manifesting itself in Julie, but ironically, she was using her innate gifts of organization discipline **against** the male chromosome of her own bloodline, in the sense that the modern day feminist girl-power revolution gave her ultimate reproductive freedom to choose the strongest males, with no racist barriers. Creating interracial children from an extremely divergent lineage would give her the best of both worlds -- Julie utterly believed this was a scientific fact. Today was a new stage of evolution for the white female. This was the message Julie was determined to spread.
The new club was called Snowgang. Only the hottest white girls were invited, and in order to become a "Snowbunny" or official member of the club, a girl had to hook up with a black guy and swallow every drop of his jizz -- this was the initiation rite to become an official member of the club.
During lunch, the girls gathered in a classroom which Julie had reserved for her new club. Above the entrance a sign read: THE ARC OF SOCIAL JUSTICE LEADS HERE.
"The stated mission of Snowgang:" announced Julie, as she unveiled a big poster with her perfect, neat European white-girl handwriting, written with a sparkly pink gel pen.
1. Become better at twerking than black girls. The fusion of European precision in choreography with the free sexual expression of the African female will create a beautiful combination of cultures --the best of both worlds. We are shameless in expressing our female sexuality. We are free of shame, and Black men deserve us so we need to show this and prove it to them through the act of twerking, a primal African behavior that originated from the slaves in Louisiana plantations.
(the girls listened, fascinated)
2. Stop whitebois everywhere. Whitebois are perverted stalkers who are sexually inadequate. Being with a whiteboi deprives the girl of the sexual fulfillment she deserves. The modern female must become strong and assertive so she can intimidate whitebois from pursuing her
and force them to retreat into their mancaves where they can jerk each other off to porn all day. It's easier than you think!
3. Make reparations to black men by having their babies. The ultimate act of atonement for slavery is to make our wombs exclusive to African DNA which is stronger and more capable. We will enable Blacks to "steal" valuable white genes such as intelligence, high IQ, green/blue eyes, etc. and incorporate it into the greater African-American bloodstream.
We will get optimal sexual pleasure as well as strong and resilient black children. This is how we destroy the white partriarchy. It's a win-win situation for all us white females, and conversely, it's lose-lose for whitebois and their history of oppression. This is natural selection and social justice at work! Girls are entitled to pursue the males they are most attracted to. Males who are unwanted by girls are DISPOSABLE."
Even Annelise, who had always led the charge in risky and outgoing behavior, was floored by how extreme Julie's rhetoric had become.
"Black men are so much hotter!" Shouted Ellen, one of the girls.
"Whitebois aren't close! They aren't even... men." Added Stephanie, the pale brunette who was regularly seeing Jamal now.
"We will meet here every week. I am planning an official Snowgang party in the near future, where many of you for the first time will get to taste Negro semen."
"I bet it tastes so good!"
"Mmm I crave that African musk!"
"I bet black men smell so much better than whitebois!"
* * *
Julie was walking to the school parking lot one afternoon, formulating plans for the big Snowgang event she was planning. What location would she pick, she wondered. She wanted to do it in her house but how would she deal with her mom... more importantly, how would she deal with her ***, Richard Stephens III, one of the proudest white men in the nation?
She fell into a morose confusion, wondering how exactly she could make her dreams a reality. The weather was turning cold as February approached, and Julie started feeling empty and sad.
That was when her phone lit up. Expecting it to be some stupid text she didn't care about, Julie swiped her password and then her entire world lit up and her heart floated as if butterflies had surrounded it and lifted it up. A giant smile lit up her face.
It was a message from Tyrone! She hadn't heard from him since that one night she and Liza had sucked him off several months ago.
"Yo bitch, I needz some money. Wanna help a nigga steal some loot?"
That was all the message said. Julie was absolutely thrilled! She was totally okay with being called a "bitch", black men were allowed to say whatever words they wanted.
They deserve to, because of slavery. Besides, Julie kind of liked being called "bitch". It turned her on.
"Sure, you can rob my daddy. Meet me at midnight on Lancaster Dr." She texted back. Her *** was so rich and privileged, it was totally okay and legal for a black man to steal from him, because of slavery.
* * *
Meanwhile, Lucas picked up his friend, Bobby, a gangly kid with long, unkempt tousled hair, who wore a flannel as if it was the 1990s.
"Sup Luke!" Said Bobby as he stepped into the yellow Lamborghini.
Lucas replied: "So where's the hook up?" Lucas, who thought of himself as very hardcore and badass, was ready to acquire some speed. He knew that being an alpha he could handle hard drugs and they sure wouldn't be a problem for him.
"Take this ramp, get on the freeway and take the second exit."
Lucas followed his directions and the two white boys entered the seedy part of town. The scenery was a stark contrast to the neighborhood they had left. The one thing that set it apart was that every he looked, Lucas saw black people on the streets. He felt secure that he was now armed.
"I know this dealer, bro, he can get us some gooood shit." Said Bobby. Lucas gripped the steering wheel, thrilled with anticipation at taking speed again. To him it was the best drug ever. It made him feel omnipotent. He remembered last time Bobby had shared some speed with him, it made Lucas feel like a God. He longed to experience that godly feeling again.
They arrived at an alley. Bobby exited the car and entered a run-down looking shack with two chained pitbulls in the front yard, who were barking at Lucas relentlessly. Lucas kept his hand close to the glove compartment in case something happened and he needed to employ his "self-defense".
After a wait that seemed too long, Bobby finally came out of the building with a brown paper bag in hand. He grinned at Lucas.
It was late afternoon by then and Lucas was eager to get out of the ghetto. His Lamborghini was drawing too much attention, as many of the Blacks and Hispanics on the streets glowered at him as he drove by.
Bobby wasn't nearly as scared. They saw a black girl with a huge ass in booty shorts walking down the streets.
"Wooow would you look at that! Hey let's have her come along with us!"
Lucas replied: "I'm not into black girls. They're fugly and I heard they smell bad. That ass is TOO fat."
Bobby ignored him and rolled down the window.
"Holla!" He yelled out. "You wanna roll wit us?"
Lucas protested but the girl smiled and said: "Sure I'll roll with y'all! What's good!"
"Muh name's Jaqueefa. I'm holding mad green!"
"Hey Luke, let her in! She's got weed!"
That was enough to convince Lucas.
* * *
Night descended. As Richard snoozed and drooled in his master bedroom with Kelsie fast asleep beside him, Julie lay wide awake waiting for the clock to strike midnight.
She texted Tyrone. "OK, I've disabled the security system and unlocked the door. Come on in ; ) <3"
As the state-of-the-art camera and security system of the Stephens Mansion went dead, Tyrone, flanked by Jamal and Du'Shawn, entered the house. Annelise was in on the heist, and she waited outside in her car as Julie's "back up" friend.
"Holy fucking shit!" Exclaimed Tyrone when he saw how opulent the interior of the house was.
Julie crept downstairs and almost swooned when she saw her obsession again. So tall, strong, and confident.
"Here, follow me to my Daddy's prized memorabilia collection."
Tyrone eyed Julie up and down, admiring her newly-sculpted figure in her sheer black leggings and sports bra. "Damn girl, you look good!" Julie blushed.
The three black youths then pulled out some huge plastic bags and started taking everything of value in the house they could.
* * *
Lucas drove back to town and parked in the darkness at a deserted supermarket parking lot in an area obscured by trees.
"Right here is good." Said Bobby. The three of them passed around a spoon and a lighter, freebasing the meth. Bobby then moved to the back seat so he could start rolling a blunt. Jaqueefa moved up into the passenger seat next to Lucas. Lucas tried not to make eye contact with her. He was not into black girls at all!
He always thought they had ugly, monkey-like faces and looked like men. He remembered making jokes about how ugly Michelle Obama was with his friends. Lucas promised himself that he would only date white girls his entire life. But then Jaqueefa lifted her leg and placed it on Lucas's lap.
Lucas instantly got hard. Jaqueefa shifted her thigh closer to Lucas's small penis. The weight of her leg on his groin was too much to handle, and Lucas ejaculated all over the inside of his boxers.
Jaqueefa sensed this and laughed. "Wooooow. That's all you got, whiteboi? Daaaamn."
Bobby said: "Back over here, babe! It's my turn!"
The drug was kicking in and it made Lucas feel anxious.
Bobby and Jaqueefa started messing around in the backseat while Lucas, who was getting paranoid, turned the keys in the ignition and started driving around aimlessly.
The speed combined with the marijuana was making Lucas's head spin. The night scenery spun around him like melting colors and he desperately tried to keep his senses and drive properly, while Bobby began groping at Jaqueefa's saggy, black tits, sucking fiendishly on her huge nipples.
Lucas was feeling sick to the stomach but he wouldn't dare tell his passengers that he wasn't good to drive. That is not alpha behavior.
He slowly drove around town when Bobby yelled at him: "Hey lets go pick up some Hardee's! They're open 24 hrs."
Jaqueefa, who was sucking on Bobby's average sized penis, able to easily deepthroat the entire white prick in her large black mouth, stopped momentarily.
"Hell yea, I'm hungry." *slurp slurp* "I wants a double cheeseburgah!" *slurp* "wit a large fry and extra large coke!"
Lucas was too heavily stoned to protest. He was so fucked up from the drug he was having trouble even being able to speak.
He remembered he had to get on the freeway briefly to arrive at the exit where Hardee's was.
Jaqueefa was now taking off Bobby's shorts, and moved her massive, flabby haunches, dark brown skin with ripples of cellulite across it, as she climbed on top of Bobby. The two were extremely high and horny and paid no attention to what was going on around them.
Lucas drove up on the ramp, signaled, looked over his left shoulder momentarily, and hit the gas, merging onto the freeway.
He didn't see the massive 18-wheeler truck in the far right lane that subsequently slammed into the Lamborghini, tossing the car up into the air were it flipped twice before landing on the shoulder of the freeway, ahead of the ramp.
The airbag completely shielded Lucas from harm as he was numb to the shock. He stayed conscious. The crystal meth in his system made him feel sharp & unperturbed. He realized that he had to escape before the police showed up.
He was not about to get a DUI and go to jail.
He grabbed his Desert Eagle from the glove compartment, opened the door, and crawled out of the wrecked Lamborghini. Slightly hobbled, he quickly ran down the freeway ramp, and when he was twenty feet away, the Lamborghini's engine exploded and the vehicle burst into flame with Bobby and Jaqueefa still inside. Lucas stumbled onto the asphalt from the reverberating shock of the explosion, scraping his chin hard on the asphalt, but he quickly picked himself up, still holding onto the pistol, and jumped over the concrete slab, escaping into the dense bushes beneath the freeway ramp. In his speed-addled mind all he could think about was finding his way home, where he would be safe from the police. He'll get away with this, he thought, he was confident that he could escape and no one will ever know what happened.
Meanwhile, fire trucks and ambulances arrived at the scene. Firefighters doused the burning car, and paramedics pulled the two charred corpses out of the wrecked Lamborghini.
* * *
Julie stood in the living room with her arms crossed, proud of allowing these 3 Negroes into her house to rob her white father blind. It was the least she could do to atone for slavery.
However, she wasn't expecting Tyrone, Du'Shaun and Jamal to go upstairs to her parents' bedroom. Next thing she knows, her father, the esteemed businessman and tycoon was being dragged down the stairs, tied up and protesting red-faced with a gag in his mouth. When he saw his ******** standing there calmly in the living room, his eyes widened in horror.
Kelsie followed behind them in her pink bathrobe, screaming and clawing at the blacks to let her husband go. Then she saw her ******** and yelled: "Oh my god! Julie! Call the police! They're gonna **** us!"
Julie stared into her mom's eyes and says:
"It's okay, I want them to **** us. I wouldn't call it ****, mom. This is reparations for slavery. It's the start of a new breeding movement and the black new world order."
Kelsie paused. She couldn't believe the perpetrator of this home invasion was her own ********. Whereas before she was traumatized when 3 black thugs broke into her bedroom and, now when she realized Julie was behind this, she felt slightly safer, and calmer. Maybe the white mother could get this situation under control. It wasn't really a criminal home invasion if her own ******** was involved.
Jamal turned and motioned at the the white women. "Right this way, bitches."
They dragged Richard into the basement and tied him to a chair. Julie then slowly walked over to Tyrone, and threw her arms around him, kissing passionately, right in front of her tied & bound father. Kelsie reached the bottom of her stairs, standing helplessly in her bathrobe, awestruck at what she was witnessing before her.
Then Du'Shawn, who had finished looting Lucas's room, came down the stairs holding a crimson red, blue and white fabric in his hands.
"Wtf is dis shit??? You know what racists did to my uncle??" He held it up in front of Kelsie' face. It was Lucas's Confederate flag. There were tears of rage suspended in Du'Shawn's eyes.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." Stammered Kelsie. "I tried telling my son not to display that in his room and-"
"Hush! On your knees, bitch!" Du'Shawn spread the Confederate flag out on the floor.
Then, the three black males all dropped their trousers. Julie, the formerly demure white teenager who had utterly transformed in the span of a few months, smiled at her mother and said:
"We owe them this, because of systemic racism and oppression. They deserve it. Besides, its fun!" She then got on her knees, on top of the Confederate flag, and starting sucking Tryone, then Jamal, and then Du'Shawn, slobbering on the cocks, her drool dripping down and staining the flag. Kelsie could not take her eyes off the scene, she was utterly enchanted by the sight of her beautiful, slender ******** attempting to wrap her tiny thin lips around the gigantic, evolutionarily divergent black cocks that couldn't possibly fit. Kelsie than rationalized in her mind that her ******** was correct. Black men deserved to take everything they wanted from whites, as atonement for the atrocities during the Antebellum & Jim
Crow eras. With that, she dropped all inhibition, and got on her knees next to her ********, her dainty white hand wrapped around Du'Shawn's thick cock (he was the thickest of the three) and her pristine white mouth, which had only ever kissed & pleasured her husband, came in contact with the purplish-black cock head. The smell of the African musk turned her on immensely and she was totally hypnotized.
The wife and ******** went into a sensual trance, slowly carressing and fondling black cock and balls as Richard struggled helplessly tied to the chair. At one point, Julie laid down on her back and thoroughly rimmed Jamal's sweaty, musky anus, diligently using her tongue to clean it, while her mother sucked his cock.
Richard writhed in his bindings, mumbling and emitting incomprehensible sounds. At some point he even started crying. His wife and ********, transfixed by the three black cocks in front of them, seemed to forget he existed.
* * *
Annelise sat in her car, bored, with rap music lightly coming out of the speakers. She wondered what was going on inside the Stephens mansions. She felt like going inside to get some BBC but she had promised Julie she'd stay outside and make sure that if police showed up, she would smile charmingly and inform them everything was OK. That was the plan.
She started craving sex and reached towards her door handle to exit the car, when she barely saw a person suddenly arrive at the bottom of the hill, where a private road led up to the main driveway.
In the darkness she could barely make out that it was a male. He seemed to be stumbling. Annelise crouched down low, and when he came beneath the lamp post she recognized it was Lucas, Julie's asshole older brother. He looked a mess! There was blood all over his chin, and his shirt was torn. More concerningly, he was brandishing a gold pistol. Lucas stumbled over to the front door, then attempted to enter in the door code, and seemed suprised that the security system was unresponsive. He then turned the handle to find the door unlocked, and went in.
Annelise, who had by now developed an innate hostility to white males as a result of her friends' #SnowGang brainwashing, suddenly realized there was a problem on their hands.
* * *
"WTF ARE YOU NIGGERS DOING IN MY HOUSE!"
The scream came from above, interrupting the smutty interracial erotic scene in the basement. Lucas was pointing his golden Desert Eagle at Tyrone, who was defenseless with his pants down, with Lucas's mother and Lucas's sister topless on their knees in front of him.
Julie's heart pounded.
"Oh my god, Luke, don't shoot, please..."
Lucas, a possessed and maddened look in his pale blue eyes, was still flying high on the effects of crystal meth combined with weed. He had a bloody scratch across his face and his shirt was torn. There was some blood dripping down from a reopened cut on his chin which he had scraped on the freeway ramp.
"Like hell I'm not gonna shoot! Hell I'll shoot you race traitors too while I'm at it! I give a fuck!"
Kelsie had a meltdown and started crying.
And just as Lucas was about to pull the trigger, suddenly a scream came through the door, and Annelise appeared, swooping down the stairs in a flying roundhouse kick, spiking the revolver out of Lucas's hands. The desert eagle flew into the air and clattered onto the floor in front of Julie.
Lucas slowly got on his knees and starting begging.
"Oh my god, my sister, I love you! I love you mom! Please, give me the gun... give me the gun..."
Julie slowly picked up the pistol, as if she was contemplating the decision, but she had her mind made up. She stared at her brother coldly, and slowly got up and handed the pistol to Tyrone.
"This is for social justice." She said.
"Time to meet your maker, whiteboi." Laughed Tyrone, and put a bullet through Lucas's forehead. Lucas crumpled to the basement floor, and then police sirens could be heard coming from outside.
FIVE YEARS LATER
Rhiannon, the maid of the Griffin household (once known as the Stephens mansion) used a pink duster to clean the corners of Beyonce's bedroom.
Much had changed over the past few years, but Rhiannon, the sissy maid who once called herself Richard, had come to accept her new place in life. Lucas, once proudly known as the scion of the Stephens household, had gotten lucky, as the bullet grazed his brain and he survived with permanent brain damage. He had been wanted by police that night after the catastrophic accident, for driving under the influence. He was in jail for life and Rhiannon's pride was utterly crushed by the event.
Today, she worried slightly about getting jumped and ***** when she'd have to return to her low-cost shared studio apartment tonight, but it was all she could afford. She was getting hungry and looked forward to her dinner of NISSIN cup noodles and Oscar Mayer hot dogs, which she had purchased at the dollar store this morning. Rhiannon would some times still cry, but she was way past lamenting her colossal downfall from CEO to sissy maid.
Deep down she accepted that her new life, deprived of all luxury and privilege, was a necessary atonement for the systemic racism in the USA.
After Julie and Kelsie had coerced her into signing over all her possessions to Tyrone Griffin, and after the divorce, Rhiannon actually felt lucky to at least have a job working for $7.25 an hour as a maid in the mansion that once upon a time, when she was called Richard, belonged to her. It was better than being on the streets and picking through dumpsters.
The 4-year old Beyonce, Kelsie and Tyrone's ********, was at her birthday party and Rhiannon felt relieved they weren't home. This was the tiny rare opportunity she had.
She crept over to the living room and stared at pictures of the "new ******", set aside her broom, and started masturbating feverishly, or at least attempting to stroke through the pink cock cage she was forced to wear at all times....
...."Oh my god! I caught her again!"
Screamed Julie when she suddenly walked in the kitchen. She looked nothing like the old Julie. Her hair was darkened to a rich brown, and was done up in Africanized cornrows with braids hanging down. By now, her ass had grown shockingly big. There was a slight bump in her stomach.
Her formerly alabaster face was turned brownish by some advanced tanning spray formula. She had even gone to a plastic surgeon for lip injections. What had once been derisively referred to by racists as "nigger lips" was now a sought-after facial feature.
She wore very tight capris and a sports bra emblazoned with the word "Snowgang" which had become Julie's massively successful clothing brand, complete with original slogans like the one displayed on the back of her capris. It said: "BUILT FOR BLACK".
Kelsie followed in behind her, looking radically different and Africanized much like her ********. She proudly wore clothes from her ********'s clothing line. Today she was wearing tight leggings like her ******** and a halter top which read: "NO whitebois" emblazoned across her tits.
Kelsie made an expression of scorn and digust when she looked down at the sheepish, red-faced maid, the creature who was once her beloved husband.
"I guess you were right, ********. We're gonna have to castrate!"
Rhiannon's heart palpitated in fear. The two women always threatened her with mutilation but she fully believed the threats. In the Black New World Order, Rhiannon had no rights.
Rhiannon couldn't help it and looked up at "his" ********. This was a big no-no because it was forbidden for whitebois to look at white women.
"UGH! It stared at me! I saw its eyes!"
Kelsie responded: "Well we might have to gouge them out then! At least she knows she's not allowed to talk, or else we'd have to cut out the tongue too!"
Both females laughed derisively. Then Tyrone walked in behind them. Kelsie put her arm around her black husband and gave him a passionate kiss, while Julie stroked his arm.
"What the fuck is this shit?" Said Tyrone, looking down at the obsequious maid, who had made a mess of a tiny dribble semen on the floor in front of her.
He gave her a sharp kick. "Go into your crate! NOW!"
"Make her lick it up first!" Yelled Julie.
Rhiannon, her eyes fixed to the floor, licked her worthless white DNA off the wooden floor as best she could, and then crawled over to the corner of the house and into her doggie crate where she was to sit until further instructions. She wished she could go home to her crappy apartment, it was better than being in the presence of Julie, Kelsie and Tyrone, who terrified Rhiannon to the core. She sat there mindlessly, trying not to think about anything while Julie, Kelsie and Tyrone went in the kitchen to enjoy their take-out lunch. This was the new reality, like a neverending nightmare that she couldn't wake up from. After centuries of injustice, it was the Black man's most powerful weapon: the Big Black Cock that won, and would go on to completely purge all whiteness from the Stephens bloodline. It was a victory won not through the use of firearms, but through the nonviolent and sexually virile power of big black cock and its total influence over white women. It wasn't the black male who brought racial justice to America. It was the white female.
THE END
.... OR IS IT??
And what of John, you ask? John remained a virgin and had turned into Jenny, and managed to build up a decent career as a crossdressing cam girl with a variety of black dildos to play with. She, too, came to accept her place and chose to accept the reality of natural selection and modern day female power and equality.
