The following story is extremely graphic. It includes but is not limited to racial violence and violence to an unborn child. Seriously: if material of this sort offends you, please do not continue reading. Nothing here is for the squeamish. As always, keep in mind, none of this is real.
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Dr. Darius Williams always felt himself grow hard whenever he pulled on the latex gloves with their satisfying snap. To him, the sound was an indication that he was about to bring another white life to a happy end, and that made his cock rigid. Darius had attended medical school specifically to become an abortionist, and he became an abortionist because he wanted to end white lives before they had even begun. In the five years since his residency and beginning his own practice, he was proud to have snuffed over one thousand white babies. As white birth rates plummeted in the western world, abortion of white embryos and fetuses had become almost trendy, many women streaming their procedures on social media, and throwing post-abortion celebrations. It had become equally trendy for white women to want to birth black children, seen as much stronger, superior, and more beautiful than weak, insipid, ugly white children. When Darius attended church on Sundays, his pastor would always ask him, "How many of the white devils did you destroy this week, son?" The older black ladies in their ornate church hats blessed Darius for his good work in ridding the world of white vermin. "You're doing the Lord's work," they would praise him. "It's Satan himself that puts the idea of making more white babies in these girls' heads."
As part of the ****** planning services offered at his clinic, Darius often counseled women on their options. He would advise black women of their responsibility to bring young black kings and queens into the world, to populate the United States with its future teachers and entrepreneurs and leaders. White women, on the other hand, he would proudly and wickedly coax toward termination, warning them of the many challenges and difficulties that white children, especially white boys, were doomed to face as an unwanted minority in the changing world. He approached this task as equal parts counselor and seducer, winning weak willed white women to his vision of the future with his charm, intelligence, and stunning good looks. With skin the color of cream soda, Darius kept his head clean shaven and his beard stubble neatly trimmed. He had striking gray, almond-shaped eyes, and full, dark lips. He was soft-spoken and kind, with a gentle demeanor beneath which beat the heart of a committed black supremacist who took unbridled sexual delight in ending the lives of unborn white children.
Darius' first appointment this morning was with a young white woman named Samantha Snow, a full eight and a half months pregnant. This would provide Darius the opportunity to indulge one of his greatest passions: a partial birth abortion. Although (a mostly white) Congress had made partial birth abortion illegal in 2003, the law had since been overturned by a nearly all black Supreme Court that viewed white abortion at any stage as a social good. Darius entered the procedure room where his young assistant, Courtney, had already prepped Samantha, including setting her up with an intravenous morphine drip. Although not strictly necessary, Darius enjoyed using opiates during the procedure so that his patients would identify the termination of their baby with physical pleasure. On the other hand, he strenuously counseled against using an epidural, believing that the white sows should suffer some physical discomfort for having the effrontery to breed white. A petite, twenty-six year old blonde, Samantha's belly was voluminous at nearly full term, her breasts full and ready to feed. Darius would have to remember to persuade Samantha to pump her rich, nutritious breast milk for donation to underprivileged black babies. No need it should go to waste just because it would do her white baby no good.
"Dr. Williams," Samantha beamed, seeing Darius enter the room in his green, form-flattering scrubs. Her legs were parted, her feet resting comfortably in cushioned stirrups, her gown raised to reveal her neatly shaven twat. "Oh, it's so good to see you! I have to admit, I'm just a tiny bit nervous." Red-headed Courtney stood nearby, smiling to herself, carefully arranging the surgical tools on a wheeled, stainless steel tray.
Darius flashed the white girl his winning smile, placing a hand on her bare knee. "Don't be nervous, sweetheart," he comforted her. "You are in good hands. We'll have this nasty white leech out of you before you know it." He slid his hand down her leg and gently massaged her vagina, playfully rubbing her clitoris. "Shame on you for waiting so long," he teased her, secretly thrilled that she had waited, that he would get the chance to snuff Samantha's nearly full-term baby as he induced labor. "Tell me," he asked, inserting a finger into her vagina, "does your husband know you're here?"
Samantha frowned. "No, Doctor," she explained. "I was afraid that he'd try to talk me out of it. As much of a wimp as he is, he can be very persuasive sometimes. That's how I ended up in this...condition."
Darius continued manipulating her vagina, causing her clitoris to become erect, her pussy moist. "Don't worry about it, Sam," he comforted her. "You did the right thing. He'll just have to deal with it. Maybe when he learns that you've gotten rid of the parasite, he'll be more...amenable to that gelding procedure we discussed." Darius' cock was iron hard in his scrubs. Recommending that white boys be neutered was a vital part of the clinic's business model. He would refer any possible castrations to his business partner, Dr. Marcellus Dalton. Although both chemical and surgical castrations were available options, Marcellus frequently encouraged patients to choose banding with an elastrator as a less expensive (if decidedly more painful) alternative. Once the band was applied, a white boy's testicles would take about two weeks to shrivel up and drop off. White boys who fidgeted with their band prior to full castration would leave themselves with nuts so fucked-up and disfigured that they were as good as useless anyway. Marcellus regarded white boys as little more than livestock, so banding them like animals only seemed the most appropriate course.
By now, Darius had one latex gloved hand deep inside Samantha's cunt, made ripe by the prostaglandin given her earlier. His other hand massaged the bulge in his crotch. The white girl moaned in full sexual arousal, turned on as much by the knowledge that she was disposing of her husband's white baby as by the confident ministrations of her handsome doctor. Darius boldly ran his tongue over Samantha's clitoris a couple of times. As he moved his hand around inside of her, Darius performed an amniotomy, inserting an instrument to break Samantha's amniotic sac. A gush of fluid flowed over his hands, spilling to the floor. Darius and Courtney smiled at one another knowingly. Samantha heard the splash.
"Oh, my! Was that...," she began. Courtney laid a hand on Samantha's shoulder to calm her. Darius nodded reassuringly. "That's right, Sam," he said, "that was your water breaking. We'll be ripping this dirty fucker out of you any second now!" Samantha knew she should be horrified, disgusted by such vulgarity, especially about her unborn child, but instead she found Darius' contempt for the child strangely arousing. She knew she should love it; she'd carried it for almost nine full months, after all. But knowing that it was her husband's baby, fearing that it would be weak and white and whiny like him, she thrilled to its imminent destruction. Throughout her pregnancy, Samantha eschewed pre-natal vitamins and continued to drink wine despite her husband’s petulant criticism. Suddenly, a sharp ache tore through her abdomen.
"Ohh," she cried. "It hurts! Ow! It hurts!"
Darius merely grinned. "Of course, it hurts, white girl," he sneered at the silly, writhing mother of the child he was about to waste, no longer concealing his contempt, his race hatred. "The baby is moving into the birth canal. You deserve this, you deserve this pain for nearly bringing a white life into the world! You deserve to suffer, at least at little. Right?"
Samantha cried. "You're right, Doctor, you're so right! I was so weak, I'm so ashamed. It wasn't fair to my white baby to bring him into a world where he'd be weak and unwanted and unloved. And it wasn't fair to black children, to subject them to yet another white monster after they have endured so much from white people!"
At this point in the procedure, a doctor would generally administer potassium chloride into the heart or head of the unborn child so that it would die painlessly. Darius never used the stuff; he wanted the vile leeches to suffer as he destroyed them. Using forceps, he began to dismember the fetus, extracting the torn and shredded limbs as he did so. "Courtney," he said, "I could use, hmm, an extra pair of hands here." Courtney joined Darius between Samantha's raised legs. Understanding his request, she slipped the waistband of his scrubs down below his bloated balls and freed his cock. Although lean and taut in build, Darius sported a thick, heavily veined, slightly curved, uncut cock, much darker than the rest of his skin. Seeing that it was fully turgid, Courtney grasped it in her small, white hand and began stroking the tight foreskin back and forth over the flared, dark purple head. Darius breathed heavily as he discarded the soft tissue of the unborn child's body in a nearby bio-waste bag.
Samantha wavered between the physical discomfit of the procedure and the induced euphoria of the morphine. Lying at an angle, with her legs in stirrups, she could not see Doctor Williams and his assistant as they sexually enjoyed terminating her pregnancy. She could hear only metal and flesh and moisture with the occasional grunt from the doctor. She could not see the excitement and pleasure in the eyes of either Darius or Courtney, as they thrilled to the dismemberment of the white male fetus. Courtney continued to stroke Darius' throbbing, blood-engorged cock, even as she snaked a hand into her own scrubs and massaged her wet pussy. Courtney, white herself, took very nearly as much pleasure in witnessing white lives ended as Darius took in ending them. Darius, meanwhile, continued to extract pieces of a child that would never take an independent breath.
Now, came Darius’ favorite part. As Courtney continued jacking his massive erection—her usual task when assisting with the abortion of a white fetus—Darius began the process of vacuuming out the white leech’s little brain and crushing its small skull. Whenever he performed this part, he would envision all of the crimes committed by white people against his own race over the centuries, and take satisfaction that this was one racist, evil, cracker bastard that would never oppress a black boy or girl. This was one white boy whose privilege was to do nothing more than be torn apart, deposited in a bio-waste bag, and incinerated. As he dropped what remained of the parasite’s cranium in the bag, he grabbed his cock from Courtney, and with a contented smile, a grunt, and a few, quick strokes, shot his seed in the swamp of Samantha’s pussy, a mess of blood and afterbirth. Courtney orgasmed almost simultaneously, letting out a mewling squeal that caught Samantha’s attention.
“Is everything o-okay?” the white girl asked.
Darius stood, pulling the waistband of his scrubs over his spent cock. “Oh, everything went fine, Sam,” he assured the white girl. “I confess, Courtney and I sometimes…enjoy our work a bit more than might be seemly. Just knowing that what we do here promotes racial justice is very…satisfying. I hope you understand.”
“Of course,” Samantha answered languidly, exhausted from the physical strain of the procedure. “Of course, I understand. That’s why I decided to terminate him…it. That’s what I want, too, Doctor. Racial justice.”
As Courtney began cleaning the mess that was between Samantha’s legs, Darius deposited the bio-waste bag in a stainless steel trash bin with all the decorum and solemnity that he might dispose of the remains of his lunch, and in full view of the newly unpregnant young non-mother. “Well, Sam,” Darius said, as he removed the latex gloves, “as I explained before: you are a young, healthy woman, and with a couple of weeks rest, you can resume normal sexual activity. There is no reason you can’t mother as many children as you want. But if you’re as committed to racial justice as you say, I hope that you will chose a more, let’s say, appropriate and genetically superior father for the next go-round.”
Samantha, blushing, asked, “When I come back for my follow-up, Doctor Williams, maybe, well, I was kind of hoping that you might consider…you know.”
Darius ran a hand over Samantha’s blonde tresses. “Sam, I am your doctor. Some might consider what you’re suggesting to be entirely inappropriate. Of course, they speak from an old, outmoded morality.” Leaning down, he gave her a paternal peck on the cheek. “Nothing would give me more pleasure than to replace the creature we just destroyed with a beautiful black child for you and your husband to raise. I think that is a wonderful way to demonstrate your commitment to racial justice.” His face grew stern. “But…I could only do so if you successfully convince your husband to come in for neutering. I would never want a child of mine growing up in a household with an intact white man. I would need to know that your husband accepts his natural place.” This was a deal Darius had forged countless times, fathering unknown dozens of children on his patients and their cuckolds.
"Oh, Doctor,” Samantha answered with enthusiasm, “if the little wimp doesn’t consent, I might just snip those things off myself while he’s sleeping.” Darius gave her an approving grin.
In the staff bathroom, Darius washed his cock and balls at the sink, careful to clean under the heavy foreskin. Marcellus entered, greeting his business partner with a fist bump. While draining his long, black snake of piss at the urinal, Marcellus noted, “Washing the hog, huh? Guess that means you offed another white boy?”
“Fuck, yeah,” Darius answered. “Late term, too! You know how much I dig those. Still working on the white daddy for you to geld. Soon, I hope. How’re you doin’ today?”
Marcellus laughed as he continued to urinate. “Had a mother bring her twin white boys in today. She caught them jacking it to porn, and wanted them taken care of before they could convince some retarded white girl to let them fuck her. The funny thing is, she wanted to watch the procedure, and even helped when I extracted the useless, little raisins. Swear, she was coming as she did it. Love these fucked up white mommies.”
“Shit, I know what you mean, brah,” Darius grinned. “We still on for that lunch meeting? I got an 11 o’clock follow-up I gotta get to.”
“Lunch it is,” Marcellus agreed, tucking his meat away and zipping up.
At reception, Lucius, the neutered, transgendered receptionist, advised Darius that his next appointment was waiting in his office.
“Hi, April and, uh, Justin,” he greeted the couple sitting across from his desk.
“Jordan,” the young, balding, bespectacled white man replied meekly. Darius shrugged. He always had a hard time remembering white boy’s names. They never seemed to matter much. “Yeah, whatever. Anyway, April, let’s see how you’re healing. No need to change into a gown; you can just drop your jeans and hop up on the desk here.” Giggling, the bob-haired brunette did just that. Darius gave her a mischievous smirk. “C’mon, girl, the panties, too. You know, I gotta get a good look at that cooch of yours.” Jordan squirmed awkwardly in his seat as his wife slid her panties down around her legs and parted her thighs. He had not been permitted to fuck her since she conceived of the child Darius had snuffed less than one month ago.
Darius knelt down and closely examined April’s vagina. He probed the folds of her cunt with his long, black fingers, dipping inside. He inhaled deeply, and smiled up at the recently unpregnant white girl. “Nice and fresh,” he said. “Everything is looking good. I assume, uh, whatsisname is still locked up?”
April nodded, looking over at Jordan. “We used a cage with a lock, just like you suggested, Doctor Williams. Jordan whines sometimes, but I’ve hidden the key safely away.”
“Excellent. And you’ve refrained from masturbating yourself, right?”
“Just like you advised. Although it was difficult. The procedure left me very,” here April blushed almost shyly, “very horny.” Unlike Samantha, April did not have a late term abortion, but opted to terminate early in her second trimester. That was three weeks previously.
“That is not uncommon, April. Don’t be embarrassed about it. And are you ready to have me replace the leech I snuffed with a beautiful, superior black baby, the way we talked about?”
April looked over at her husband again, nodding at him. Jordan replied, “Yes, sir, we would very much like you to knock us up with your baby. It’d be an honor, Doctor, to raise your child.”
Darius stood. “And what about you, white boy? Have you given any more thought to having those balls of yours removed. My partner, Doctor Dalton, can probably squeeze you in this afternoon, after lunch. A slice here, a tug there, and poof, all gone.”
Jordan hung his head. “I don’t know, it’s just such a…a big step. Couldn’t I just get a vasectomy?”
April chastised him. “Honey, you know that vasectomies are reversible. You’d always be tempted to have the little things, er, fixed. The great thing about neutering is that it’s forever. It’s a real commitment. To me. To racial justice. To the future. To a black future. Do this for me, sweetie, prove that you want to be a good husband, and a good daddy to my black babies.”
“Tell you what, white boy,” Darius chimed in. “If it’ll make you feel better, why don’t you go ahead and rub one out while I’m putting that baby in your wife. Call it one last hurrah. Then we’ll get you over to Doctor Dalton and let him walk you through the procedure.”
“O-o-okay,” Jordan answered meekly. “I’ll do it! I’ll…I will have my nuts cut off for the black race!”
Darius smiled wickedly. “That aboy. You made the right decision.” Turning back to April, he said, “Now let’s see what we can do about filling up that womb of yours with a real man’s baby.” Darius dropped the trousers of his scrubs to the floor.
April caressed Darius’ black cock in her small, white hands. It was so thick that they did not fully fit around its massive girth. As she massaged it, rubbing the head against the folds of her pussy lips, Darius lifted off his top, revealing a lean, toned body, smooth and brown. He bent over April, pressing his lips to hers as he entered her pussy. His long, talented tongue invaded the young white woman’s mouth, as she moaned into Darius’ mouth, thrilled at the feeling of his cock sliding deeper into her pussy than anyone had ever been before. This was a man who could give her babies that she would be proud to carry to term. “Oh, yes, Doctor,” she said, “fuck the racism out of me! Fuck the white out of me!”
Behind the rutting couple, Jordan had worked his own three-inch penis out of his slacks. Rather than jerk the little boy dink with his fist, he rubbed it between his thumb and index finger. Although it was fully erect, it was barely visible between his two digits. He was sometimes dumbfounded that his pathetic worm had actually succeeded in getting his wife pregnant, even if it was merely with some weak, white mongoloid creature that was better flushed or incinerated or whatever they did with the diseased remains of white fetuses. As much as it hurt, Jordan was coming to accept the truth of black supremacy, and watching the way Darius Williams fucked his own white wife only validated that truth.
April caught sight of her loser husband stroking his little weenie between his fingers and tried to suppress a giggle. Feeling Darius’ enormous girth filling her insides, she wondered aloud, “How could I ever let that little worm near me when there are men like this in the world?” Darius glanced over his shoulder at the pathetic white man, furiously jacking his baby boy prick. “Oh, dude,” he frowned. “That thing is just…sad.” Looking back to April with a confident smirk, he observed, “No wonder you’re on my desk taking my meat, bitch. You are real man’s whore, now, aintcha?”
“Oh, fuck yes!” April cried. “I am a whore! A black man’s whore! And I want to have a black baby! Lots of black babies! I’ll never let my husband’s little clit get near me again!”
“That’s the way, white girl,” Darius cheered her on. “Deny white boys. Be a slut for real men, for black men! Be a good race traitor.” Darius lifted April off the desk, her pussy impaled on his massive piledriver. April wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his strong shoulders, as he bounced her up and down on his mammoth organ.
Darius moved to the center of the room, April clinging to him as they rutted. “Keep jerking that tiny pecker, white boy,” Darius instructed, “but do it on your knees, where white scum belongs.” Jordan dropped to the floor as told, kneeling before Darius’ feet. To his own surprise, it felt good to kneel before a black man, to surrender what passed for his manhood, both symbolically and, very soon, literally. He wondered if having his balls removed would hurt. It didn’t matter; he knew that he would happily surrender his balls so that he could have the chance to raise another man’s baby, a better man’s baby.
“Oh, Christ!” he heard his wife hiss. “Do it, please! Knock me up! Knock me up with a better baby than that leech you flushed out of me!”
“Gonna breed you, girl,” Darius said, “gonna breed you black! Plant a nigga baby in that white, race traitor womb of yours! Your white heritage ends with you, you stuck-up, prissy, white bitch! Making you a black man’s ho!”
“Yes! Oh, fuck! Do it, Doctor, fuck your black babies into me! Help me end the white race!” April squealed as she orgasmed on Darius’ ebony horse cock.
Darius pressed his mouth over April’s, his long tongue plunging back down her throat as he shot his first thick gushing bolt of nigger cum deep into her womb, followed by another, and another. April’s pussy was flooded, thick ribbons of Darius’ slop running down her inner thighs. On the floor, Jordan also came, releasing his thin, watery white boy semen in a small trickle, as he panted like a dog. His vision was blurred, his breathing labored, as he realized that this was likely the last cum he would ever have.
Darius and April continued to kiss, Jordan looking on, his small cock almost invisible now that it was flaccid. Darius looked down at the kneeling white loser, noting, “You got your nasty jizz on my floor, white boy. Lick that shit up, now!” Jordan lowered his mouth to the floor, and began lapping at the thin ejaculate. Darius placed a foot on the back of Jordan’s neck, forcing his face into the puddle of weak, watery semen. Still wrapped in the doctor’s arms, April giggled at her husband’s humiliation.
“Okay, white boy,” Darius yelled, “enough! Get the fuck out of here! Go set up an appointment with Lucius at reception to have Doctor Dalton nut you this afternoon. I want those little nuts of yours gone before you leave here today. Now, go! Your wife will be along when I’m through with her.”
“Y-y-yessir,” Jordan replied, crawling on hands and knees for the office door. Darius gave him a firm kick in the ass. “And you damn well better take good care of my baby, faggot!” the black alpha warned. Jordan continued crawling until he was in the outside corridor, Darius slamming the door closed behind him.
Once he was gone, April said as she pulled her clothes back on, “Gee, he really is pathetic, isn’t he?”
“All white boys are, baby.” Darius leaned against his desk, admiring April’s curves as she slipped back into her jeans. “Y’know,” he suggested, “even though neutering is generally a very safe procedure, mmm, accidents have been known to happen. It could be arranged that your white boy husband might bleed out or have a coronary or any number of the other things that sometimes go, heh, wrong during even a simple operation. Marcellus would be happy to arrange it if I asked him. We’ve done it before.”
Rather than horror, April appeared contemplative, weighing the possibility of her husband succumbing to medical error while under the knife. She massaged Darius’ dangling cock, many times larger than her husband’s even though flaccid, casually humping herself against his leg. “That’s such a tempting offer, Doctor,” she sighed. “But…no. I’ll keep him around for now. It’ll be good to have someone around to change the diapers and handle late night feedings.”
Darius leaned in and gave April another kiss. “Whatever you say, white girl. Now, drop those jeans again. I want to make sure that we either get that egg fertilized or knock you up with twins!”
April laughed, eagerly dropping her jeans to the floor.
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Dr. Darius Williams always felt himself grow hard whenever he pulled on the latex gloves with their satisfying snap. To him, the sound was an indication that he was about to bring another white life to a happy end, and that made his cock rigid. Darius had attended medical school specifically to become an abortionist, and he became an abortionist because he wanted to end white lives before they had even begun. In the five years since his residency and beginning his own practice, he was proud to have snuffed over one thousand white babies. As white birth rates plummeted in the western world, abortion of white embryos and fetuses had become almost trendy, many women streaming their procedures on social media, and throwing post-abortion celebrations. It had become equally trendy for white women to want to birth black children, seen as much stronger, superior, and more beautiful than weak, insipid, ugly white children. When Darius attended church on Sundays, his pastor would always ask him, "How many of the white devils did you destroy this week, son?" The older black ladies in their ornate church hats blessed Darius for his good work in ridding the world of white vermin. "You're doing the Lord's work," they would praise him. "It's Satan himself that puts the idea of making more white babies in these girls' heads."
As part of the ****** planning services offered at his clinic, Darius often counseled women on their options. He would advise black women of their responsibility to bring young black kings and queens into the world, to populate the United States with its future teachers and entrepreneurs and leaders. White women, on the other hand, he would proudly and wickedly coax toward termination, warning them of the many challenges and difficulties that white children, especially white boys, were doomed to face as an unwanted minority in the changing world. He approached this task as equal parts counselor and seducer, winning weak willed white women to his vision of the future with his charm, intelligence, and stunning good looks. With skin the color of cream soda, Darius kept his head clean shaven and his beard stubble neatly trimmed. He had striking gray, almond-shaped eyes, and full, dark lips. He was soft-spoken and kind, with a gentle demeanor beneath which beat the heart of a committed black supremacist who took unbridled sexual delight in ending the lives of unborn white children.
Darius' first appointment this morning was with a young white woman named Samantha Snow, a full eight and a half months pregnant. This would provide Darius the opportunity to indulge one of his greatest passions: a partial birth abortion. Although (a mostly white) Congress had made partial birth abortion illegal in 2003, the law had since been overturned by a nearly all black Supreme Court that viewed white abortion at any stage as a social good. Darius entered the procedure room where his young assistant, Courtney, had already prepped Samantha, including setting her up with an intravenous morphine drip. Although not strictly necessary, Darius enjoyed using opiates during the procedure so that his patients would identify the termination of their baby with physical pleasure. On the other hand, he strenuously counseled against using an epidural, believing that the white sows should suffer some physical discomfort for having the effrontery to breed white. A petite, twenty-six year old blonde, Samantha's belly was voluminous at nearly full term, her breasts full and ready to feed. Darius would have to remember to persuade Samantha to pump her rich, nutritious breast milk for donation to underprivileged black babies. No need it should go to waste just because it would do her white baby no good.
"Dr. Williams," Samantha beamed, seeing Darius enter the room in his green, form-flattering scrubs. Her legs were parted, her feet resting comfortably in cushioned stirrups, her gown raised to reveal her neatly shaven twat. "Oh, it's so good to see you! I have to admit, I'm just a tiny bit nervous." Red-headed Courtney stood nearby, smiling to herself, carefully arranging the surgical tools on a wheeled, stainless steel tray.
Darius flashed the white girl his winning smile, placing a hand on her bare knee. "Don't be nervous, sweetheart," he comforted her. "You are in good hands. We'll have this nasty white leech out of you before you know it." He slid his hand down her leg and gently massaged her vagina, playfully rubbing her clitoris. "Shame on you for waiting so long," he teased her, secretly thrilled that she had waited, that he would get the chance to snuff Samantha's nearly full-term baby as he induced labor. "Tell me," he asked, inserting a finger into her vagina, "does your husband know you're here?"
Samantha frowned. "No, Doctor," she explained. "I was afraid that he'd try to talk me out of it. As much of a wimp as he is, he can be very persuasive sometimes. That's how I ended up in this...condition."
Darius continued manipulating her vagina, causing her clitoris to become erect, her pussy moist. "Don't worry about it, Sam," he comforted her. "You did the right thing. He'll just have to deal with it. Maybe when he learns that you've gotten rid of the parasite, he'll be more...amenable to that gelding procedure we discussed." Darius' cock was iron hard in his scrubs. Recommending that white boys be neutered was a vital part of the clinic's business model. He would refer any possible castrations to his business partner, Dr. Marcellus Dalton. Although both chemical and surgical castrations were available options, Marcellus frequently encouraged patients to choose banding with an elastrator as a less expensive (if decidedly more painful) alternative. Once the band was applied, a white boy's testicles would take about two weeks to shrivel up and drop off. White boys who fidgeted with their band prior to full castration would leave themselves with nuts so fucked-up and disfigured that they were as good as useless anyway. Marcellus regarded white boys as little more than livestock, so banding them like animals only seemed the most appropriate course.
By now, Darius had one latex gloved hand deep inside Samantha's cunt, made ripe by the prostaglandin given her earlier. His other hand massaged the bulge in his crotch. The white girl moaned in full sexual arousal, turned on as much by the knowledge that she was disposing of her husband's white baby as by the confident ministrations of her handsome doctor. Darius boldly ran his tongue over Samantha's clitoris a couple of times. As he moved his hand around inside of her, Darius performed an amniotomy, inserting an instrument to break Samantha's amniotic sac. A gush of fluid flowed over his hands, spilling to the floor. Darius and Courtney smiled at one another knowingly. Samantha heard the splash.
"Oh, my! Was that...," she began. Courtney laid a hand on Samantha's shoulder to calm her. Darius nodded reassuringly. "That's right, Sam," he said, "that was your water breaking. We'll be ripping this dirty fucker out of you any second now!" Samantha knew she should be horrified, disgusted by such vulgarity, especially about her unborn child, but instead she found Darius' contempt for the child strangely arousing. She knew she should love it; she'd carried it for almost nine full months, after all. But knowing that it was her husband's baby, fearing that it would be weak and white and whiny like him, she thrilled to its imminent destruction. Throughout her pregnancy, Samantha eschewed pre-natal vitamins and continued to drink wine despite her husband’s petulant criticism. Suddenly, a sharp ache tore through her abdomen.
"Ohh," she cried. "It hurts! Ow! It hurts!"
Darius merely grinned. "Of course, it hurts, white girl," he sneered at the silly, writhing mother of the child he was about to waste, no longer concealing his contempt, his race hatred. "The baby is moving into the birth canal. You deserve this, you deserve this pain for nearly bringing a white life into the world! You deserve to suffer, at least at little. Right?"
Samantha cried. "You're right, Doctor, you're so right! I was so weak, I'm so ashamed. It wasn't fair to my white baby to bring him into a world where he'd be weak and unwanted and unloved. And it wasn't fair to black children, to subject them to yet another white monster after they have endured so much from white people!"
At this point in the procedure, a doctor would generally administer potassium chloride into the heart or head of the unborn child so that it would die painlessly. Darius never used the stuff; he wanted the vile leeches to suffer as he destroyed them. Using forceps, he began to dismember the fetus, extracting the torn and shredded limbs as he did so. "Courtney," he said, "I could use, hmm, an extra pair of hands here." Courtney joined Darius between Samantha's raised legs. Understanding his request, she slipped the waistband of his scrubs down below his bloated balls and freed his cock. Although lean and taut in build, Darius sported a thick, heavily veined, slightly curved, uncut cock, much darker than the rest of his skin. Seeing that it was fully turgid, Courtney grasped it in her small, white hand and began stroking the tight foreskin back and forth over the flared, dark purple head. Darius breathed heavily as he discarded the soft tissue of the unborn child's body in a nearby bio-waste bag.
Samantha wavered between the physical discomfit of the procedure and the induced euphoria of the morphine. Lying at an angle, with her legs in stirrups, she could not see Doctor Williams and his assistant as they sexually enjoyed terminating her pregnancy. She could hear only metal and flesh and moisture with the occasional grunt from the doctor. She could not see the excitement and pleasure in the eyes of either Darius or Courtney, as they thrilled to the dismemberment of the white male fetus. Courtney continued to stroke Darius' throbbing, blood-engorged cock, even as she snaked a hand into her own scrubs and massaged her wet pussy. Courtney, white herself, took very nearly as much pleasure in witnessing white lives ended as Darius took in ending them. Darius, meanwhile, continued to extract pieces of a child that would never take an independent breath.
Now, came Darius’ favorite part. As Courtney continued jacking his massive erection—her usual task when assisting with the abortion of a white fetus—Darius began the process of vacuuming out the white leech’s little brain and crushing its small skull. Whenever he performed this part, he would envision all of the crimes committed by white people against his own race over the centuries, and take satisfaction that this was one racist, evil, cracker bastard that would never oppress a black boy or girl. This was one white boy whose privilege was to do nothing more than be torn apart, deposited in a bio-waste bag, and incinerated. As he dropped what remained of the parasite’s cranium in the bag, he grabbed his cock from Courtney, and with a contented smile, a grunt, and a few, quick strokes, shot his seed in the swamp of Samantha’s pussy, a mess of blood and afterbirth. Courtney orgasmed almost simultaneously, letting out a mewling squeal that caught Samantha’s attention.
“Is everything o-okay?” the white girl asked.
Darius stood, pulling the waistband of his scrubs over his spent cock. “Oh, everything went fine, Sam,” he assured the white girl. “I confess, Courtney and I sometimes…enjoy our work a bit more than might be seemly. Just knowing that what we do here promotes racial justice is very…satisfying. I hope you understand.”
“Of course,” Samantha answered languidly, exhausted from the physical strain of the procedure. “Of course, I understand. That’s why I decided to terminate him…it. That’s what I want, too, Doctor. Racial justice.”
As Courtney began cleaning the mess that was between Samantha’s legs, Darius deposited the bio-waste bag in a stainless steel trash bin with all the decorum and solemnity that he might dispose of the remains of his lunch, and in full view of the newly unpregnant young non-mother. “Well, Sam,” Darius said, as he removed the latex gloves, “as I explained before: you are a young, healthy woman, and with a couple of weeks rest, you can resume normal sexual activity. There is no reason you can’t mother as many children as you want. But if you’re as committed to racial justice as you say, I hope that you will chose a more, let’s say, appropriate and genetically superior father for the next go-round.”
Samantha, blushing, asked, “When I come back for my follow-up, Doctor Williams, maybe, well, I was kind of hoping that you might consider…you know.”
Darius ran a hand over Samantha’s blonde tresses. “Sam, I am your doctor. Some might consider what you’re suggesting to be entirely inappropriate. Of course, they speak from an old, outmoded morality.” Leaning down, he gave her a paternal peck on the cheek. “Nothing would give me more pleasure than to replace the creature we just destroyed with a beautiful black child for you and your husband to raise. I think that is a wonderful way to demonstrate your commitment to racial justice.” His face grew stern. “But…I could only do so if you successfully convince your husband to come in for neutering. I would never want a child of mine growing up in a household with an intact white man. I would need to know that your husband accepts his natural place.” This was a deal Darius had forged countless times, fathering unknown dozens of children on his patients and their cuckolds.
"Oh, Doctor,” Samantha answered with enthusiasm, “if the little wimp doesn’t consent, I might just snip those things off myself while he’s sleeping.” Darius gave her an approving grin.
In the staff bathroom, Darius washed his cock and balls at the sink, careful to clean under the heavy foreskin. Marcellus entered, greeting his business partner with a fist bump. While draining his long, black snake of piss at the urinal, Marcellus noted, “Washing the hog, huh? Guess that means you offed another white boy?”
“Fuck, yeah,” Darius answered. “Late term, too! You know how much I dig those. Still working on the white daddy for you to geld. Soon, I hope. How’re you doin’ today?”
Marcellus laughed as he continued to urinate. “Had a mother bring her twin white boys in today. She caught them jacking it to porn, and wanted them taken care of before they could convince some retarded white girl to let them fuck her. The funny thing is, she wanted to watch the procedure, and even helped when I extracted the useless, little raisins. Swear, she was coming as she did it. Love these fucked up white mommies.”
“Shit, I know what you mean, brah,” Darius grinned. “We still on for that lunch meeting? I got an 11 o’clock follow-up I gotta get to.”
“Lunch it is,” Marcellus agreed, tucking his meat away and zipping up.
At reception, Lucius, the neutered, transgendered receptionist, advised Darius that his next appointment was waiting in his office.
“Hi, April and, uh, Justin,” he greeted the couple sitting across from his desk.
“Jordan,” the young, balding, bespectacled white man replied meekly. Darius shrugged. He always had a hard time remembering white boy’s names. They never seemed to matter much. “Yeah, whatever. Anyway, April, let’s see how you’re healing. No need to change into a gown; you can just drop your jeans and hop up on the desk here.” Giggling, the bob-haired brunette did just that. Darius gave her a mischievous smirk. “C’mon, girl, the panties, too. You know, I gotta get a good look at that cooch of yours.” Jordan squirmed awkwardly in his seat as his wife slid her panties down around her legs and parted her thighs. He had not been permitted to fuck her since she conceived of the child Darius had snuffed less than one month ago.
Darius knelt down and closely examined April’s vagina. He probed the folds of her cunt with his long, black fingers, dipping inside. He inhaled deeply, and smiled up at the recently unpregnant white girl. “Nice and fresh,” he said. “Everything is looking good. I assume, uh, whatsisname is still locked up?”
April nodded, looking over at Jordan. “We used a cage with a lock, just like you suggested, Doctor Williams. Jordan whines sometimes, but I’ve hidden the key safely away.”
“Excellent. And you’ve refrained from masturbating yourself, right?”
“Just like you advised. Although it was difficult. The procedure left me very,” here April blushed almost shyly, “very horny.” Unlike Samantha, April did not have a late term abortion, but opted to terminate early in her second trimester. That was three weeks previously.
“That is not uncommon, April. Don’t be embarrassed about it. And are you ready to have me replace the leech I snuffed with a beautiful, superior black baby, the way we talked about?”
April looked over at her husband again, nodding at him. Jordan replied, “Yes, sir, we would very much like you to knock us up with your baby. It’d be an honor, Doctor, to raise your child.”
Darius stood. “And what about you, white boy? Have you given any more thought to having those balls of yours removed. My partner, Doctor Dalton, can probably squeeze you in this afternoon, after lunch. A slice here, a tug there, and poof, all gone.”
Jordan hung his head. “I don’t know, it’s just such a…a big step. Couldn’t I just get a vasectomy?”
April chastised him. “Honey, you know that vasectomies are reversible. You’d always be tempted to have the little things, er, fixed. The great thing about neutering is that it’s forever. It’s a real commitment. To me. To racial justice. To the future. To a black future. Do this for me, sweetie, prove that you want to be a good husband, and a good daddy to my black babies.”
“Tell you what, white boy,” Darius chimed in. “If it’ll make you feel better, why don’t you go ahead and rub one out while I’m putting that baby in your wife. Call it one last hurrah. Then we’ll get you over to Doctor Dalton and let him walk you through the procedure.”
“O-o-okay,” Jordan answered meekly. “I’ll do it! I’ll…I will have my nuts cut off for the black race!”
Darius smiled wickedly. “That aboy. You made the right decision.” Turning back to April, he said, “Now let’s see what we can do about filling up that womb of yours with a real man’s baby.” Darius dropped the trousers of his scrubs to the floor.
April caressed Darius’ black cock in her small, white hands. It was so thick that they did not fully fit around its massive girth. As she massaged it, rubbing the head against the folds of her pussy lips, Darius lifted off his top, revealing a lean, toned body, smooth and brown. He bent over April, pressing his lips to hers as he entered her pussy. His long, talented tongue invaded the young white woman’s mouth, as she moaned into Darius’ mouth, thrilled at the feeling of his cock sliding deeper into her pussy than anyone had ever been before. This was a man who could give her babies that she would be proud to carry to term. “Oh, yes, Doctor,” she said, “fuck the racism out of me! Fuck the white out of me!”
Behind the rutting couple, Jordan had worked his own three-inch penis out of his slacks. Rather than jerk the little boy dink with his fist, he rubbed it between his thumb and index finger. Although it was fully erect, it was barely visible between his two digits. He was sometimes dumbfounded that his pathetic worm had actually succeeded in getting his wife pregnant, even if it was merely with some weak, white mongoloid creature that was better flushed or incinerated or whatever they did with the diseased remains of white fetuses. As much as it hurt, Jordan was coming to accept the truth of black supremacy, and watching the way Darius Williams fucked his own white wife only validated that truth.
April caught sight of her loser husband stroking his little weenie between his fingers and tried to suppress a giggle. Feeling Darius’ enormous girth filling her insides, she wondered aloud, “How could I ever let that little worm near me when there are men like this in the world?” Darius glanced over his shoulder at the pathetic white man, furiously jacking his baby boy prick. “Oh, dude,” he frowned. “That thing is just…sad.” Looking back to April with a confident smirk, he observed, “No wonder you’re on my desk taking my meat, bitch. You are real man’s whore, now, aintcha?”
“Oh, fuck yes!” April cried. “I am a whore! A black man’s whore! And I want to have a black baby! Lots of black babies! I’ll never let my husband’s little clit get near me again!”
“That’s the way, white girl,” Darius cheered her on. “Deny white boys. Be a slut for real men, for black men! Be a good race traitor.” Darius lifted April off the desk, her pussy impaled on his massive piledriver. April wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his strong shoulders, as he bounced her up and down on his mammoth organ.
Darius moved to the center of the room, April clinging to him as they rutted. “Keep jerking that tiny pecker, white boy,” Darius instructed, “but do it on your knees, where white scum belongs.” Jordan dropped to the floor as told, kneeling before Darius’ feet. To his own surprise, it felt good to kneel before a black man, to surrender what passed for his manhood, both symbolically and, very soon, literally. He wondered if having his balls removed would hurt. It didn’t matter; he knew that he would happily surrender his balls so that he could have the chance to raise another man’s baby, a better man’s baby.
“Oh, Christ!” he heard his wife hiss. “Do it, please! Knock me up! Knock me up with a better baby than that leech you flushed out of me!”
“Gonna breed you, girl,” Darius said, “gonna breed you black! Plant a nigga baby in that white, race traitor womb of yours! Your white heritage ends with you, you stuck-up, prissy, white bitch! Making you a black man’s ho!”
“Yes! Oh, fuck! Do it, Doctor, fuck your black babies into me! Help me end the white race!” April squealed as she orgasmed on Darius’ ebony horse cock.
Darius pressed his mouth over April’s, his long tongue plunging back down her throat as he shot his first thick gushing bolt of nigger cum deep into her womb, followed by another, and another. April’s pussy was flooded, thick ribbons of Darius’ slop running down her inner thighs. On the floor, Jordan also came, releasing his thin, watery white boy semen in a small trickle, as he panted like a dog. His vision was blurred, his breathing labored, as he realized that this was likely the last cum he would ever have.
Darius and April continued to kiss, Jordan looking on, his small cock almost invisible now that it was flaccid. Darius looked down at the kneeling white loser, noting, “You got your nasty jizz on my floor, white boy. Lick that shit up, now!” Jordan lowered his mouth to the floor, and began lapping at the thin ejaculate. Darius placed a foot on the back of Jordan’s neck, forcing his face into the puddle of weak, watery semen. Still wrapped in the doctor’s arms, April giggled at her husband’s humiliation.
“Okay, white boy,” Darius yelled, “enough! Get the fuck out of here! Go set up an appointment with Lucius at reception to have Doctor Dalton nut you this afternoon. I want those little nuts of yours gone before you leave here today. Now, go! Your wife will be along when I’m through with her.”
“Y-y-yessir,” Jordan replied, crawling on hands and knees for the office door. Darius gave him a firm kick in the ass. “And you damn well better take good care of my baby, faggot!” the black alpha warned. Jordan continued crawling until he was in the outside corridor, Darius slamming the door closed behind him.
Once he was gone, April said as she pulled her clothes back on, “Gee, he really is pathetic, isn’t he?”
“All white boys are, baby.” Darius leaned against his desk, admiring April’s curves as she slipped back into her jeans. “Y’know,” he suggested, “even though neutering is generally a very safe procedure, mmm, accidents have been known to happen. It could be arranged that your white boy husband might bleed out or have a coronary or any number of the other things that sometimes go, heh, wrong during even a simple operation. Marcellus would be happy to arrange it if I asked him. We’ve done it before.”
Rather than horror, April appeared contemplative, weighing the possibility of her husband succumbing to medical error while under the knife. She massaged Darius’ dangling cock, many times larger than her husband’s even though flaccid, casually humping herself against his leg. “That’s such a tempting offer, Doctor,” she sighed. “But…no. I’ll keep him around for now. It’ll be good to have someone around to change the diapers and handle late night feedings.”
Darius leaned in and gave April another kiss. “Whatever you say, white girl. Now, drop those jeans again. I want to make sure that we either get that egg fertilized or knock you up with twins!”
April laughed, eagerly dropping her jeans to the floor.
*To Be Continued*
