When he was still a medical intern, Dr. Marcellus Dalton, with his business partner Darius Williams, dreamed of putting his medical training in service to the noble cause of white ********. Darius specialized in abortion, snuffing the life of white parasites before they escaped the womb; Marcellus, meanwhile, focused on castration, neutering white males before they ever had the opportunity to pass on their dubious genetic heritage. It was an honorable calling for the two, young black doctors, one they pursued with single-minded determination. After the men had completed their residencies, they opened a ****** planning clinic offering abortion and castration services to whites who recognized that they had no future, and were prepared to take the fateful step in ensuring that their racial heritage would die with them.
But Marcellus and Darius' business model called for them to more actively promote white extinction than merely waiting for white losers to drag their sorry pale asses to the clinic or for white women to wake-up to the obvious genetic superiority of black men and the better babies they could give them. To this end, they employed an advertising agency advocating their specialized services in magazines, television commercials, and billboards.
One billboard that Marcellus passed every day on his drive to the clinic, for instance, featured a handsome black male model embracing a very pregnant white woman from behind. The text read, "Don't Let a White Baby Stand in the Way of Your Happiness. Abortion Services Upon Demand. Call Us Today. Let Us Make Things Right." It always gave Marcellus a bit of wood whenever he passed that billboard, both because it represented his success as a doctor and entrepreneur, but also because it worked. Countless white women came to Darius to rid their wombs of unwanted white parasites, then proceeded to persuade, cajole, and bully their husbands into availing themselves of Marcellus' neutering services.
As he sat at his office desk, absent-mindedly caressing his long black tube steak of a cock through his blue scrubs, the intercom buzzed. "Doctor Dalton," came the voice of Lucius, the clinic's neutered transgendered receptionist, "your three o'clock is in waiting room number two."
In waiting room number two, Marcellus discovered a very young white couple. Consulting his chart, he said, "Hi, I'm Doctor Dalton. And you must be Brad. What brings you here today, Brad?"
Brad sat on the reclining, cushioned gurney, having changed into a green hospital gown at Lucius' instruction. "Uhm, well, I'm here, I mean..."
Marcellus laughed. "Don't be an idiot, Brad. I was kidding. I know why you're here. You're here for the same reason all white boys come here, son: to lose those little boy nuts between your legs." The girl standing by Brad suppressed a laugh. Marcellus sized her up: pretty, blonde, green-eyed, with firm, little breasts, and barely concealed anticipation. "Hey, white girl. And who might you be?"
The blonde girl blushed. "Hi, Doctor! I'm Jessica. I'm Brad's...well, girlfriend, I guess."
Marcellus smirked as Brad squirmed at Jessica's response. "You guess? You mean you don't know if you're his girlfriend?"
"Well, I am his girlfriend," Jessica explained. "In fact, after the...procedure, I've agreed to be his fiancée. You see, we've never had...relations. And we never will."
"Jessica!" Brad whined. "You don't have to tell him everything!"
Marcellus shushed the white boy. "No, Brad, this is important. If I'm going to perform this procedure, I need to make certain it is in everyone's best interest. So, Jessica: you're willing to marry Brad, but not to fuck him. How's that work?"
"Well, Doctor Dalton, you see..."
"Please, Jessica, call me Marcellus."
Jessica smiled at that. "What a nice name. Marcellus," she repeated, enjoying the sound of it on her lips. "So strong! Well, you see, Marcellus, as much as I love Brad, I think it is very irresponsible and racist to bring new white life into this horribly racist world. We're both in college now, and we're learning about all the violent, nasty, oppressive things white people—white men especially—are responsible for. Brad and I don't want to be a part of that."
Marcellus nodded. "A wise choice, very woke of you, and I completely agree. But tell me, why castration instead of, oh, I don't know, a vasectomy?"
Jessica became thoughtful. "Well, Marcellus, when we saw the ads for your clinic, we just knew this is the correct, the proper choice to make. A kind of penance, sort of."
Marcellus smiled at that. "Penance. Mm, I like that. Is that how you feel about it, Brad?"
Brad gave a noncommittal shrug, "Well, I mean..."
"Shut the fuck up, Brad," Marcellus said. "I was joking again. Nobody gives a shit what white boys feel. Am I right, Jessica?" Jessica giggled.
"Well, I'll tell you," Marcellus continued, "it is great to see young whites make a responsible decision like this and remove themselves from the gene pool. But, what about you, Jessica? You're young and very attractive. Very, very attractive. Do you really want to be straddled with a eunuch? Don’t you want to enjoy sex? Don't you want to have children someday, even if they’re not...white children?" Marcellus reached out and ran a black finger through Jessica's blonde hair. "Even if this...white loser...never cums again, that's no reason you shouldn't enjoy yourself."
Jessica blushed again. "Oh, well...we've talked about that. I know lots of white girls are taking, y'know, um, black lovers on the side. I thought maybe, someday..."
"That's a great idea, Jessica. No reason to deprive yourself, of course. And no real reason to wait for ‘someday,’ if you know what I mean. What about you, Brad? You okay with your girl getting sexed by brothers?"
Again, Brad shrugged nervously. Marcellus hated all white boys, but he found himself enjoying Brad's timorousness. He was such a consummate loser. "Well, I'll tell you," Marcellus said, "nothing would give me greater pleasure than to help you kids out. Let's get rid of those nasty little balls of yours, Brad, okay?"
Brad nodded, his head hanging in resignation. "Doctor? Will it...will it hurt?"
Marcellus nodded. "If I do it right, it sure as fuck will, white boy." Again, Jessica giggled.
"My preferred method is elastration, in which we use a pliers like device," here Marcellus opened a drawer, and pulled out a stainless steel device that, sure enough, resembled a pair of pliers, "to snap a rubber ring around those little raisins of yours. Hurts like fuck, although we can minimize that with some ice water and painkillers. In just a few hours your balls start to rot, then we just cut 'em off with a scalpel before gangrene sets in. Farmers do it to sheep and goats all the time. What do you think, Brad? Would you let me castrate you as if you were livestock?"
Brad shook his head violently. "No! No, please," he whimpered. "That...that sounds awful."
Marcellus agreed, chuckling. "Yeah, man, it is. It really is. That's why I like recommending it to stupid white fucks. But, if you're too much of a pussy for that, Brad, there's always the Burdizzo." Here he withdrew another metal device, this one resembling a large nutcracker. "This is used to crush the spermatic cords. Without blood flow, necrosis sets in and your balls just kind of, deteriorate. Most white boys prefer doing this one under anesthesia so that they don't go into shock. One dude had a heart attack on me, but he was, like, fifty or something."
“Did..did he…die?” Brad inquired.
“He sure did, Brad,” Marcellus replied with a wide grin. “But that’s okay: he was white.”
Brad had started sweating profusely. Jessica appeared fascinated. "Can I hold that one, Doctor? I mean, Marcellus?"
"Of course! Here you go," he said, handing the stainless steel castration device to Brad's girlfriend. Jessica opened and closed the tongs with interest. "Oh, Brad! I think we should do this one. It'd be so much fun watching them shrink and deteriorate into nothingness!"
“I…geez…I don’t know. Is there, is there any-any-anything else, Doctor?” Brad sniveled.
Marcellus thought for moment. “Well, if you’re just a big pussy, there’s always surgical castration. For that, I would use a general anesthesia, make an incision in your scrotum, and pluck out your little nuts. We can leave the empty sack there or arrange to remove it. That takes a lot longer, but is pretty pain-free. Then for the real wimps there’s chemical castration. That leaves the scrotum intact, but wipes out your sex drive; the downside, of course, is that it doesn’t necessarily sterilize you and it can be reversible.”
Brad looked at Jessica hopefully. “Did, did you hear that, honey? It’s reversible. If we ever change our minds…!”
Jessica’s demeanor suddenly changed as she became noticeably irate. “Change our minds? Reversible? Totally out of the question! I would never marry a white boy who might reproduce someday. Lose the balls, Brad, or we’re through!” Marcellus smiled at her resolve.
Marcellus gave Brad a slap on the shoulder. "Sorry, white boy," he chuckled, "sounds like the easy way out is not okay with your girl. She seems really taken with the Burrdizo. Can't say I blame her. It's a nasty piece of work, but it gets the job done. Come on, Brad, get that gown off, let's see what I got to work with here."
Brad fidgeted. "Do I have to...?"
"Jesus Christ, Brad," Marcellus admonished him, "how the hell do you expect me to destroy your balls if I don't take a look at 'em? I get that you might not want anyone to see your pathetic white boy junk, and fuck knows I'm not in any hurry to see your shit, but I'm afraid it is necessary."
Brad reluctantly slipped his arms out of the gown, letting it drop to his lap. Marcellus lifted it up, and tossed it in a corner, leaving Brad's pale, thin, girlishly-smooth body completely exposed. He smirked at what passed for Brad’s supposed manhood. “Heh. Fuck, Brad, castration might hardly even be necessary. There’s barely anything there to begin with.” Brad hung his head even lower at Marcellus’ ridicule.
“Here now, lie back, and we can get started,” Marcellus instructed the young white man. “The sooner we destroy those tiny nuts of yours for all time, the better for the human race.” Marcellus began an IV insertion in Brad’s skinny right arm, telling the nervous white man to “just relax, and we’ll have you gelded in no time at all.” Once the IV was set, the handsome black doctor administered midazolam to help relax Brad, who grew compliant and drowsy under its influence. As Brad’s awareness waned, Marcellus brought restraints from the underside of the gurney, fastening them around Brad’s wrists and ankles. He then used a lidocaine injection to numb Brad’s testicles and groin in preparation of his neutering.
“Would it better if I stepped out?” Jessica asked, her natural squeamishness vying with her desire to see Brad literally emasculated.
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Marcellus told her. “In fact, I’m hoping you’ll participate.” Marcellus took her small, white hand in his. “Here, cup Brad’s little nut sack in your palm like this. That’s right.” Jessica made a face at having to handle Brad’s white loser balls for the first time. “Don’t worry, it’s just for a moment.”
With Jessica’s assistance, Marcellus slipped the right testicle into the Burdizzo, using the device to sever the blood vessels, the nerves and ducts that comprised Brad’s spermatic cord. Even anaesthetized, Brad moaned and winced. Jessica wondered vaguely if Marcellus might have purposefully used a low dose of anesthetic on Brad; if so, she could hardly fault him. She was developing a profound empathy for the contempt the black race must hold for her own, a contempt she was beginning to share.
Marcellus proceeded to the left testicle. "Here, hold it like this," he offered the Burdizzo to Jessica, who took the device in her delicate hand, its nails painted blood red. He folded his larger, ebony palm over her fingers, the two of them working together to ensure the future of the human race would be white free. With a firm squeeze, they snapped the Burdizzo closed, sundering the spermatic cord, each of them imagining they could hear the satisfying crunch of the white loser’s remaining ball being severed forever. Marcellus looked down at Jessica, smiling. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he said, “another white boy permanently absented from the gene pool.”
Jessica clapped her hands together. “Oh, goody!” she cheered.
“Without working testicles,” Marcellus informed her, “you will notice Brad becoming even less manly than he already was. He might well take on some distinctly feminine traits, in fact, perhaps even maternal. He’ll make a good nanny for however many black babies you decide to breed.” Jessica sniggered at that thought. “Now, why don’t you reach inside my scrubs and cop a feel of a real man’s balls? What do you say?”
Emboldened by their destruction of Brad’s genetic future, Jessica stepped close to Marcellus, feeling the heat of his powerful mahogany body. She looked up into his dark brown eyes, as she slipped a small, pale hand into the elastic waistband of his blue scrubs as he had suggested. “Oh!” she exclaimed as her fingers encountered his penis, erect from the excitement of perpetrating ******** against the white race, the very kind of eugenics practiced on his own people by the vile white race not so many decades ago. Jessica’s hand continued sliding deeper into Marcellus’ crotch until she encountered his plum-sized balls, so much fuller and more fertile than Brad’s now useless gonads. “My…God,” she whispered.
“Those are a man’s balls, baby, not like those little, useless schoolboy marbles we just destroyed. How’s it make you feel, holding balls that have bred a dozen beautiful, superior black babies?” he asked Jessica.
“A dozen,” she gasped. “Really? That many?”
Marcellus gave her a confident smirk. “Easily. Maybe more. And it’s the job of white boys like Brad here to support them. Why don’t you get on your knees, baby, show some respect to my superior African balls?” Jessica complied with enthusiasm, kneeling before Marcellus, lowering the waistband of the powerful black man’s scrubs like a child unwrapping a long-desired Christmas gift.
“Oh my…!” the white girl exclaimed as Marcellus’ meaty, uncut, sienna-colored baton spilled out, his low-hanging brown balls bloated with African DNA eager to fertilize an egg.
“Put ‘em in your mouth, Jessica,” Marcellus encouraged Brad’s girlfriend.
Jessica cupped the egg-sized testicles in the palm of her hand, marveling at their power and fullness after witnessing her boyfriend’s gonads being destroyed with such ease. She giggled as she pressed her lips to Marcellus’ scrotum, giving it a playful kiss. The kiss turned into a lick of curiosity with her wet, pink tongue. Having had a taste of the musky, brown ball sack, the young blonde could no longer resist, and proceeded to cradle first one, then both balls in her mouth, lathering them with moist admiration. She marveled at how virile, how fertile these wonderful balls must be to have fathered so many children. As she nursed on his sperm-bloated nuts, Marcellus’ cock shaft grew turgid, sticking straight out in almost foot-long grandeur. Jessica glanced up at Brad’s still slumbering form, as she grasped the thick, mahogany cock in her small, pale hand.
Several of Jessica’s girlfriends had told her of the majesty of black cock, but until she held Marcellus’ erection in her hand, she was unprepared for the intoxicating effect black cock would have on her. The tall black doctor looked down at the young, white, blonde girl as she sucked on his testicles and stroked his cock. He had seen the look on Jessica’s face on countless other white girls, the realization that their white boyfriends, husbands, brothers, and sons were genetically and sexually insignificant compared to black men. His cock swelled with righteous racial swagger.
“Go on, girl, put it in your mouth, and suck on it. Show me what you’re good for.”
Jessica peeled back the thick foreskin, and engulfed the bloated head of Marcellus’ fat cock in her mouth, forgetting all about Brad’s very existence, overwhelmed by the potent musk of the throbbing sex before her. Marcellus’ cock was so long and thick, Jessica struggled to swallow even half of it to the back of her throat. As she gleefully gagged herself on it, she produced more saliva, easing Marcellus’ relentless sounding of her tonsils. “That’s right, white girl,” the black doctor encouraged her, “don’t hold back, impale yourself on my dick. My pleasure means more than your comfort!”
With the white boyfriends she’d had, Jessica always found giving head to be somewhat distasteful, an act to get through rather than to enjoy. With Marcellus, the more she sucked, the more aroused she became. She slipped a hand below the waistband of her jeans to discover her pussy had grown warm and wet. She forced more and more of the foot-long appendage down her throat, thrilling to the challenge of swallowing all of it. Just as she was growing accustomed to its size, Marcellus plucked his prick from her mouth with a loud pop, rubbing the head all over Jessica’s face, smearing her lips and cheeks with copious amounts of his sperm-rich fuck drool.
"You got some skills, girl," Marcellus complimented Jessica, laying his rod on the curve of her pink tongue, enjoying her oral ministrations to his cock. "You been holding out on me? Have you sucked black dick before?" Jessica blushed almost shyly, shaking her head in the negative, her cheeks bloated with the doctor's thick fuck serpent. Marcellus laughed, "Guess it just comes natural when you been denied the taste of a real man your whole life."
Marcellus plopped his prick from out of Jessica's mouth again, smearing his precum over her lips, leaving a sheen of his rich African manna behind. Taking her hands, he pulled her to her feet and bent her over the foot of the gurney upon which Brad reclined. Jessica found herself inches from Brad's distasteful looking dick, barely two inches in its flaccid state, and his now useless balls. Reaching around, Marcellus yanked down her jeans and underwear, revealing her plump, alabaster ass cheeks. He gave Jessica's ass a sharp slap with the palm of his hand before running his black fingers between her legs to massage her clitoris. "Going to finally put this fine white pussy in service to the superior race, bitch," he exclaimed, as he sank to his knees and buried his face in her pink cunt.
Jessica moaned, as she felt Marcellus' long tongue probe at her snatch. She looked at Brad, oblivious in his anaesthetized state. His white cock and balls struck her as nothing short of ridiculous compared to the massive, formidable organ she had just had between her lips. As Marcellus' tongue explored the cavern of her pussy, he rubbed her engorged clitoris between his fingers, causing her to grown moist and eager for his cock. When she and Brad had made the appointment for his castration, it was with the intent of furthering the cause of black supremacy; but Jessica had never imagined that it would culminate in her being sexed, and perhaps impregnated, by a black doctor as handsome and skillful as Marcellus.
Having prepared her pussy, Marcellus stood behind Jessica, his hands roaming over her pale body, running along her thighs, her abdomen, caressing her breasts. "Tell me, Jessica," he said, "what do you see when you look at your white boy, at Brad? Do you see a man?"
Jessica shook her head vigorously. "No! No, I see a little boy, a sad, pathetic loser! A faggot! I see...I see white filth! I hate him! I hate white people! I hate my entire fucking race!"
"Good girl," Marcellus went on, enjoying Jessica’s succumbing to racial hatred. “So you should. And how can you make up for being white, Jessica?" As he asked her this, he prodded at her pussy lips with the head of his black cock, dripping with pre-ejaculate, and rubbed the foreskin over her labia.
"Oh!" Jessica cried. "I want to betray my race! I want to be used by black men! I want to, I really want to have black babies!"
"And make your loser eunuch pay to raise them?"
"Yes! Oh, fuck, yes! I want to make Brad pay to raise your black baby to make up for being such a racist loser," she cried, as Marcellus pushed himself deep into her pussy. “Oh! Fuck me, Marcellus, fuck my race traitor pussy!” The man who castrated her boyfriend buried the pulsing shaft of his cock deep in Jessica’s eager cunt, filling her as she had never been filled in her life, giving her a more worthy purpose than she had ever had: pleasing a black man, potentially conceiving new black life.
As the gurney shook with every thrust Marcellus made into Jessica’s welcoming womb, Brad began to come around, the effects of the twilight anesthesia wearing off. His eyes opened to the sight of Jessica’s smiling face looking down at him, looking as happy as he’d even seen her. Even as he struggled to remember where he was and why, the sight of his beautiful blonde girlfriend helped reassure Brad. He noticed, however, that Jessica had a far-off look, as if she were somewhere else, her smile strangely rapturous. He tried to say her name, but only produced a series of low gurgling sounds, drool spilling down his chin.
As his focus improved, Brad became aware of a dark shape behind and above the woman he loved so much, something that frightened him. The shape was moving, making deep guttural sounds in unison with Jessica’s soft mewling. As he continued to fight off the drowsiness, Brad realized that the indistinct shape was that of a tall, handsome black man, his head thrown back in pleasure as he thrust himself forward. “Wh’s goi’ on?” Brad managed to say.
The two faces, Jessica and the black man, seemed to become aware of Brad’s presence at the same time. Jessica smiled at him. “Oh, honey,” she said, “isn’t it wonderful? Marcellus is blessing us with a black baby! I can’t wait to feel it growing inside me! It’s about time that we did something worthwhile with our lives.” Brad suddenly remembered that they were at a clinic, that they’d come here so that he could…Oh! His balls! He tried to reach for his groin, to see if his testicles were intact, but found his hands restrained. “Just making sure you don’t hurt yourself, white boy,” Marcellus explained, even as he continued to fuck into Jessica from behind.
“Mh b’lls, mh b-b-b’lls,” Brad struggled to say.
“Oh, they’re still there,” Marcellus reassured him. Just as he saw the relief wash over Brad’s face, the white-hating doctor said, “They’ll just never work again. They are literally quite useless. In fact, once they start to atrophy, feel free to come in for a follow-up and I’ll remove that flaccid sack of yours with a stroke of my scalpel.” Jessica sniggered at Marcellus’ cruelty.
“But Brad,” Jessica said, “isn’t it so wonderful? Now that you’re officially a eunuch, we can get married! There is no danger of us reproducing. Well…I mean, there’s no danger of you reproducing. I hope to reproduce a lot! Just no stupid, ugly, weak white babies.” Tears streamed down Brad’s face with the dawning realization that whatever small claim he might have had to manhood had been taken from him by the woman he loved and this black doctor. And he had consented to it. It’s true, he thought to himself, the white race really is on the verge of extinction.
Brad watched as Marcellus pulled Jennifer back toward him, his black hands grasping her breasts. Brad’s groin remained numb; he was unable to tell if the sight of the woman he loved being fucked so expertly gave him an erection. Even if his cock had grown hard, however, he knew it was a futile effort. His testicles would no longer function; in mere days, they would shrivel and atrophy. It was the fate that he had accepted in order to have Jessica in his life. But more than that: it was the fate white men deserved. They were a stain on the face of the earth. More and more white people were accepting that reality, as well as the corresponding solution. Thousands of white men like Brad were embracing lives as sexless eunuchs, while many others were opting for voluntary disposal, taking their own lives. Eventually, it would be millions. White women, meanwhile, were reserving their wombs for the superior seed of the African race. Brad’s resolve deepened. He had made the correct choice after all.
“Yes,” he said, “please, please, give us a black baby. Give us a purpose. We want to serve the black race!”
Marcellus smirked at Brad’s newly voiced dedication to black supremacy. He had witnessed a similar evolution in white boys before, once their pretense to manhood had gone the way of what sad little virility they had. “You going to raise my babies right, son?” he taunted the now sterile white eunuch.
Brad nodded. “Yes, sir! Oh, yes, sir!”
“You always going to put the black race before your own selfish needs?”
“Yes, sir! I promise, sir!”
“Thank me for castrating you, boy!”
“Thank you, sir! Oh, thank you! My cock and balls were always a joke. I’m better off this way, sir. Thank you!"
Marcellus smirked arrogantly. "Now, thank me for fucking your woman! Thank me for filling her with my seed! Thank me for knocking her up!"
"Yes! Thank you, sir! I hope...I hope you fucked your child into the woman I love!"
"No doubt about it, cracker," the sadistic doctor promised.
Marcellus and Jessica openly laughed at Brad’s cringing, sniveling submission. This was the proper tone for a white boy to take toward its black superior. Marcellus always enjoyed this moment when a previously defiant white accepted its proper place in the hierarchy. With a series of deep thrusts, he emptied his potent load deep inside Jessica’s pussy, shooting again and again, certain that his powerful African sperm would find and fertilize the egg of her weak, white, European ancestry, conquering the white race one womb at a time.
“Clean my cock, white girl,” he instructed Jessica, proffering his ebony tool, moist with sperm and pussy juice. Jessica sank to her knees, and licked the slime-coated shaft of Marcellus’ spent baby-maker, relishing the pungent flavor that filled her mouth. She slurped clots of drying cum from under the thick foreskin that drooped over the immense cockhead. She lapped at the folds of his heavy scrotum, the contents of which now sloshed around in her well-fucked cunt. She did all this happily in front of the man she intended to marry, forcing him to bear witness to her submission to the black race, knowing that she would never perform such a service for any white man, himself least of all.
Marcellus plucked his clean cock from between Jessica’s soft lips. “Good enough, white girl,” he told her. “You can pick up a home pregnancy test from Lucius at reception. If this baby doesn’t take, I’d be happy to fuck another one into when your white boy comes in for his follow-up.” Jessica clapped her hands together, “Oh, yes, please!” she exclaimed.
As he undid Brad’s restraints, he said, “I’ll write you a prescription for any pain, white boy, although that’s more than a white fucktard like you deserves, don’t you think?” Brad nodded his agreement. “Set up a follow-up exam with Lucius on your way out, so we can make sure your destroyed little nuts don’t get infected. In the meantime, think about whether you want to keep that pointless sack of yours now that its contents are useless. I can slice the whole thing off with no problem.”
“That might be best, sir,” Brad conceded. “I’ll think about it.”
“Another thing I want you to think about: my partner, Dr. Williams, and I host a couple of get-togethers every summer for couples just like yourself, white couples dedicated to the extinction of your fucked-up race. The next one is in July. I’d like you to attend.”
Jessica was intrigued. “That sounds wonderful, Marcellus. Is it a formal event?”
Marcellus explained, “Nah, pretty informal. In fact, it’s actually a disposal party. Until the courts legalize euthanasia of white boys, Darius and I try to do our part by offering underground disposal services to couples that are interested. What do you think? Are you interested in attending our disposal party?”
“Oh, that sounds really fun,” Jessica exclaimed. “Doesn’t that sound fun Brad?”
Brad found himself becoming non-committal again. “Well…I suppose,” he offered. “Is…is disposal…is it required…?”
“No, not at all,” Marcellus reassured the white eunuch. “It’s just a fun time, and those who choose disposal are welcome to it. Though you might be surprised how many white boys get caught up in the...fun. What do you say? Can I put you down on the guest list?”
“Yes! Definitely!” Jessica said with enthusiasm. "It sounds awesome!"
“I…suppose,” Brad conceded.
As he left the couple to get dressed, Marcellus said, “Terrific! You can pick up an invitation from Lucius on your way out, along with the prescription. And don’t forget to make your follow-up appointment, Brad. I’ll be happy to take care of that useless sack of yours.” With that the handsome doctor left the young white couple to ponder their future.
