Subject: Topanga Goes Black - PRED meets Boy Meets World (complete version)
Date: Thu, 25 Feb 1999 04:41:12 GMT
From: [email protected]
Organization: Ameritech.Net Complaints: [email protected]

PRED fans:
This is definitely PRED's most controversial TV parody.
Readers either love it or hate it. After "Topanga's" release, PRED
was accused of racism, homophobia and misogyny (among other things).
Ironically, the story also generated the most REQs of any PRED story
except Magnificent 7. It seems that everyone wanted to read about
Topanga going black. Now its your opportunity. Enjoy ...
([email protected])

Topanga Goes Black


"I love you, Topanga," Cory Matthews whispered in his
girlfriend's ear as he worked his hand up under the hem
of her white turtleneck and loosened her blue, plaid skirt.
They were parked in the school parking lot before the first
bell, and Cory was desperately trying to score *something*
off his gorgeous, but goody-two-shoes girlfriend. Kissing her
neck, Cory trailed his tongue down the beautiful teen's soft
neck and nuzzled her throat while she squirmed.
"No, Cory," she gently brushed away his hands as they
made a play for her ripe, tempting tits. "You know we
can't .."
"I know ..." Cory sighed, pulling away immediately. "I'm
sorry. I just got carried away."
Topanga fixed Cory in her gaze and managed a smile. *You
little twerp,* she thought to herself. *Is that it? You aren't
even going to try? Sometimes, Cory Matthews, I don't know
why I even bother. Look at me. I'm gorgeous. I'm practically
the wet dream of every guy in this school, and I'm yours, but
look at you. You're not even man enough to even try and
get into my pants. I'm supposed to say 'no.' I have to say
'no.' That's the game, you idiot, and you're such a twerp
you don't even know. Couldn't you feel me squirming up
against you, rubbing the back of my hand down there. You're
supposed to hold my hand down there and make me hold it,
squeeze it. You're supposed to take charge and pursue me,
seduce me, not roll over and play dead the minute I pretend
to say 'no.' What am I doing with you? Why can't I just
dump you and find a real man, someone who knows the score,
someone who'll make me feel sexy, someone who'll treat me
like a woman instead of a high school sweetheart ...*
"What are you thinking about?" Cory asked.
"Oh, nothing, just the basketball game last night."
"I forgot to ask you, did we win?"
"Did we win? We killed them. Cornell DuPree got like
fifty points ..."
"Really ..." Cory looked disturbed for a moment, but then
the look passed from his face.
*It's just your imagination, Topanga. I mean how could he
possibly know what you were just thinking ... who you were
just thinking about ...* "So what did you do last night."
"Worked on this argumentative paper assignment Mr. Feeny gave me
... It's about slavery ..."
"Sounds interesting. Why don't you tell me about it on the way
to class ..." Topanga was always feigning interest
in Cory's schoolwork. It's what good little high school girl-
friends were supposed to do, and that was what she was ...
Topanga Lawrence, the good little high school girlfriend.


"I can't believe you're saying this, Cory?!" Topanga Matthews
raised her voice slightly to let her boyfriend know she
was *seriously* annoyed. She didn't care if anyone in the hall-
way heard her either. Some of the other students did turn and
glance momentarily at the school's most *together* couple, but
no one really paid attention much. The two had had their little
spats over the years, but they were basically indestructible.
A lot of the kids respected that; others envied it; some even
despised them. But none of that ever seemed to matter to Cory
and Topanga. They were too busy marching merrily onward
towards a lily-white suburban wedding and 'happily ever after.' "You
sound like some kind of .. kind of .." the words were hard for her to
say, especially when directed towards the boy she
thought she loved, the boy she thought she knew, the boy she
thought she would be spending the rest of her life with.
"You're not listening to me, Topanga," Cory interrupted, tugging
on her arm slightly to accentuate his point. "What I'm
saying is, there were two sides to the story. That's all."
"You sound like a .." she paused, and then decided to say
it, " ... a racist." *There I said it ...* She puffed out her chest
slightly, defying him to defend himself.
"I am not a racist, Topanga," Cory shook his head in dis-
belief. "It's an assignment. I'm just trying to get a good
grade. Mr. Feeny is ..."
"You just told me you thought maybe bl.." she corrected
herself, "African Americans were better off as slaves. I'd say
that was pretty much being a racist, Cory."
"You weren't listening to me," Cory bristled, his voice
rising with his frustration. "That's not what I said at all."
"Cory ..!" she started again.
"Listen," he waved the book in her face. "I was just tel-
ling you what it said in here. These are the black people's
own words. In some cases .. I'm not saying all .. but in some
cases they were better off as slaves. They say it themselves
right here," he waved the book again for emphasis. "That's
what the assignment is about. It's an argumentative paper.
I'm supposed to take an unpopular opinion and ..."
"I know what you're supposed to do, Cory," she snapped.
"I'm not stupid. I also know you're taking this way too
seriously. It's just a paper, but you're here telling me that
you actually believe some of it ..."
"It's in here," Cory waved the book again. Although he
knew nothing he said would make a difference, he still felt
compelled to try. "These are authentic narratives from ex-
slaves. Some of them actually preferred life on the planta-
tion. They say so!" he smacked the book against his thigh.
"They had food, a roof over their heads, they didn't have
to worry about paying rent or putting food on the table ..."
"I can't believe you're saying this," Topanga shook her
head furiously and strode away from him down the hall
towards her locker.
"I'm not saying this," Cory was close on her heels, un-
willing yet to concede his point. "History says this! These
are facts. You can't just deny them because you happen not
to agree with what they say ..." *Geez, I'm starting to sound
like Mr. Feeny ...* The realization that his assignment had now
somehow obsessed him came as no real shock to the sensitive
teen. He was like that, stubborn and a bit self-righteous,
especially when he *knew* he was right. And this time, he
*knew* he was right. Now he just had to make Topanga see. The
thought she could think he was a racist, not to mention
*wrong* was very disturbing. " ... It's history, Topanga ..
"I don't care if it's *history* or not," she whirled about
to confront him head-on. This was a side of Cory she had
never liked. He always had to be *right*, no matter what the
cost, even if it meant embroiling themselves in some senseless
argument that had nothing to do with their lives. *Damn it,
Cory ...* she fumed to herself. *For once in your life just
admit you're wrong and let it go ...* Topanga certainly wasn't
about to admit to anyone, not even her darling Cory, that
some African Americans were better off as slaves. Even if
it might be true -- and she wasn't even going to let herself think
it could be -- the idea was abhorrent, and just plain *wrong* to
consider, even in the intellectual sense. This time she wasn't
going to back down to Cory in order to smooth things over.
This time he was going to be the one to say: 'I'm wrong. You're
right. I'm sorry. Let's not fight about this anymore. Would
you please forgive me ...'
"What's up, guys?" Shawn's head peeked out from behind
a locker door with his ever-present goofy smile.
*Shawn ... good ...* Cory smiled back at his friend. Shawn
would see his point. How could anyone *not* see his point.
He had history on his side. Topanga was just going with her
emotions like she always did. Most of the time Cory adored
passionate idealism, but sometimes -- like now -- it clouded
her mind to other points of view. Maybe Shawn could shed
some light on the discussion, make her see that Cory wasn't
being a racist, he was just being accurate.
"What are you guys arguing about?" Angela, Shawn's
African-American girlfriend suddenly appeared at the boy's
side. She flashed an empathetic smile Topanga's way, and
the two shared a silent thought. *Guys can be such jerks ...*
"Nothing," Cory shot in quick before Topanga could speak.
*Crap!* He couldn't get Shawn in on this argument now, not
with Angela present. She just wouldn't understand. If Topanga
was this upset, imagine how a black girl would feel hearing that
some of her people were better off as slaves. For a split second,
Cory found himself uncomfortable with Angela's presence,
almost resentful. Here they were in the middle of an important
discussion, and he would have to quit before he could make
Topanga *see,* all because Angela was black. Why did
black people have to be so close-minded about all of this kind
of stuff anyway? It seemed to Cory that white people were
always bending over backwards not offend black people. He
certainly didn't want to offend Angela; she was Shawn's girl-
friend, and she was one of them. She wasn't like a lot of other
black people, the ones on the streets in the gangs selling
drugs. She was great, and Cory liked her, but at that moment
he wished she'd never moved out of her neighborhood and come
to their school. He would never be able to convince Topanga
now, not with Angela there.
"It is not *nothing*, Cory," Topanga snapped back. "Cory
thinks some black people were better off as slaves," Topanga
announced, right in Angela's face.
"You what?" Angela cocked her head to the side and glared
at the boy she thought was her friend in disbelief. "You've
got to be kidding!"
*Thanks, Topanga ...* Cory shuffled about silently,
nervously, just wanting a hole to appear beneath his feet
and suck him underground. "Listen," he muttered, aware
he had lost the argument even before it started. "Let's not
go into this right now, all right." Cory was disappointed. For
once, Mr. Feeny was wrong. It didn't matter what *history*
said, only what people thought. "It's a little complicated."
"What? Too complicated for a black person to under-
stand?" Angela was pissed now. "Listen, if you've got an
opinion .. something you want to say .. say it! You don't
think I've heard it all already. I grew up with this kind of
crap," she hissed. "I guess I just never thought I'd hear
it from my *friends.*"
"It's not like that, Angela," now Cory felt he had to explain.
He couldn't let all three of his best friends think he was a racist.
"Then you tell me what it's *like*," she challenged. "Go on,
Cory ... tell me ..."
"I'm doing a paper," he tried to explain, but the words were
now clogged up under his tongue. "An argumentative paper
on .. slavery .. and I .. I was surprised to read that .. this book
says that ..." he paused and tried to gather his thoughts amid
Topanga's and Angela's wilting stares. "There are some slaves
quoted in here ... ex-slaves ..." he corrected himself, "and a lot
of them say they were better off in slavery ..."
"That's a lie!" Angela hissed. "I can't believe you'd even ..."
"It's right here," Cory desperately waved the book again. "I
didn't make this up. It's actually what these people said. I can't
deny it, and no matter how much you want to *not* believe it,
it's the truth, at least part of it, and I think people should know
about it."
"That's messed up, Cor," Shawn shook his head. "Seriously
messed up."
"Thank you, Shawn!" Topanga pronounced. "Maybe you
can talk some sense into him, and make him see how wrong
he is."
"You should be ashamed of yourself, Cory," Angela jumped
in. "I never thought you could be a racist."
"I am not a racist!" Cory heard himself yell. "Would you all
just listen to me for a second? I am not a racist! And if you all
weren't so close-minded, you might be able to follow what I'm
saying, if you'd only shut up and listen to me."
"Okay, then, Cory," Angela challenged. "We're listening. So why
don't you tell us how you think blacks were better
off as slaves, and you aren't a racist ..."
"Look," Cory knew he was backed into a corner. "I never
said *blacks* were better off as slaves, just *some blacks* ...
the ones quoted in this book. They're the ones who said it. I'm
just trying to tell you what they said. They hated being free
because they had to find work so they could eat, but no one
would give them jobs because they were black, so they starved,
okay ..? And they say at least when they were slaves, they
always had something to eat, no matter what. And they didn't
have to worry about being dragged out of their homes and
lynched in the middle of the night, because when they were
slaves they were protected because they were someone's prop-
erty. This isn't what I say. It's what they say. I'm just telling
you what they say, and they have a point. Slavery is wrong!
It was bad! But I can see their point. If you're starving because
you can't find a job because you're black, maybe working on
a plantation doesn't seem so bad anymore."
"That's the sickest thing I've ever heard," Angela shook her
head. "I can't believe you just said that."
"I didn't say it," Cory whined. "They did!" *Why won't
anybody see?* "It's right here. Why don't you read it?" he
tried to put the book in her hands.
"I don't want to read that," Angela backed away. "You're
sick .. a sick racist ..."
"Come on, Ang," Shawn suddenly inserted himself back into
the conversation. "Cor is not a racist .. stupid maybe, but
certainly not a racist."
"Oh, really," Angela now turned her attention to her boy-
friend. "And I suppose you see his point?"
"He's just telling you what these people said," Shawn
got defensive immediately. "And they were there. They lived
through it. You didn't. No one's attacking you or black people.
It's just the way things were. So chill, okay ..?"
"Shawn!?" Topanga exploded. "Did you hear what you just
said ..."
"Woooooooooooooooo!" the hallway suddenly erupted
in a chorus of cheers and flooded with students. They were
all gathered in a swarm around Cornell DuPree, the school's
newest student and the basketball team's newest power
forward. "Cornell! Cornell! Cornell!" the student body
chanted as the 6'9" teen strode down the hall followed
by his entourage. At his side, his younger sister Taniqua
beamed like she'd just won the Miss Black America contest,
basking in the adulation heaped upon her brother, some of
which had rubbed off on her.
Taniqua was a beautiful, dark-chocolate-skinned freshgirl
with glossy lips, pitch-black plaits, big juicy tits, and a full,
round ass that jutted out provocatively above the click-clack
of her platform shoes. She had the air of the *street* about
her, from her sassy, sway-assed sashay', to her gum-snapping,
ebonics-spouting mouth. She and Cornell had moved into
town a month earlier, just in time for her brother to attain
eligibility for the basketball team.
Cornell DuPree was six feet, nine inches of raw, savage,
black power. His head shaved close to his skull, and his
nostrils flaring out like a jungle cat's above the shine of
his pearly white teeth. He seemed to take up the entire
hallway; the white students who fawned over him teemed
beneath his godlike stature like insects .. little wiggly, pink
The celebration in the hall must have been related to
the school's 31 point trouncing of Valley High the pre-
vious night. Cornell loomed over his chanting minions
like an ebony god, his large white eyes surveying the
hallway in search of something ... or someone ...
Topanga's stomach curdled when the black teen's
savage glare caught her eyes dead-on, and then roamed down
her scrumptious, succulent white body. She found herself
shuddering involuntarily, and she knew he had noticed
the undulations sweeping through her tender white
flesh. She tried to stifle another shiver, but she was
powerless to do so. She watched the black teen smile
almost mockingly at her, his long pink tongue gliding over his
thick, swollen lips. He winked at her and then walked over,
parting the student body before him like Moses crossing
the Red Sea.
"Uh, Cor ..." Shawn whispered in his friend's ear. "I'd ..
uh .. drop it, okay," Shawn was obviously referring to the
conversation they had dropped when the disruption broke out.
Cory said nothing, his small, white body trembling in
anger and terror. He could see the way Cornell was looking
at Topanga. He'd been looking at her the same way ever
since he'd arrived. Cory also saw the way Topanga looked
at Cornell. Cory could see her twitch and twitter whenever
she spoke to the black Adonis. Before today, the boy had just
it go. Girls were allowed to look; hell, he looked all the
time. But that's what love and trust were all about -- look
but never touch, and he had never felt threatened by Cornell's
presence -- and Topanga's obvious crush -- until now.
The conversation they'd just been having now weighed on him
heavily. Here Topanga was calling him a racist just because
he dared to question the *accepted* version of history they'd
all learned since grade school, and here Cornell was lording his
blackness over the tiny white bodies cringing beneath him.
*Maybe things were better when they were slaves ...* Cory felt
his jealousy get the better of him, but instead of trying to sup-
press it, he gave it free reign. The sight of Cornell infatuating
his girlfriend made him sick, sick and angry.
"Yo ..." Cornell's deep voice seemed to settle like a pool of
warm, wet water in Topanga's pure pussy. "Was' up, Topangy?" He
nodded his head to a silent groove beat in the
back of his mind and smirked at little Cory.
"Not much, Cornell," Topanga seemed to be reveling in the
black god's attention, thrusting her ripe, white tits out to ac-
centuate the plush, creamy delectability of her unspoiled, white,
suburban, schoolgirl flesh. "Was up with you?" she giggled
as she tried to affect his black speech pattern. It was so pathetic
it was adorable, like a little puppy trying to please her master,
and Cornell felt his footlong dick dangle like a hunting spear
down the left leg of his baggy jeans.
"D'joo see de game las' night?" he bobbed his head, feigning
humility, like he was embarrassed to call attention to his greatness.
"You were awesome!" Topanga gushed, consciously exaggerating her
already obvious flirting to teach Cory a lesson.
She would show him what it was like to *not* be a racist. She
would show him the way she wanted him to be. The *right* way to be.
"What was that ..? Like fifty points or something..?"
"Fitty-one," he corrected her. "I made dat foul shoot at de
end-a-de game ..." He stretched his neck up and expanded
his chest so his full six feet, nine inches came to bear on Cory's
pathetic white presence. "How'joo be doin', Cream?" he sneered at
Cory, stressing the word *cream* which was the only
name by which he ever addressed Cory or any other white boy at
the school. "D'joo see de game?"
"No, I was home studying, Cornell," Cory felt all of two-inches
tall below the raw presence of Cornell's chiseled black
physique. *Fucking nigger ...* the mental outburst didn't
even startle him. Cory just let the thought blare across his
synapses until it electrified every nerve ending in body.
*Fucking nigger!* he screamed silently, fighting the tears
that burned beneath his eyelids.
"Stud-yin'?" Cornell laughed, "Was'sup wi' dat, Cream?
Let jo' fine lookin' lady go all's to de game by 'rself. Can't
be lettin' a fine lookin' lady like Topangy out jo sights. Some
brudder liables to come up and snatch 'rself right 'way from
joo ..." He boldly put his arm around Topanga and gave her
one of his *friendly* hugs, the hugs he'd been bestowing upon
other guys' white girlfriends ever since he'd arrived in school.
Cory, like every other wriggly little pink worm, did nothing
to stop the fierce lord of the jungle. What could he do, but
stand and watch as the towering ebony giant groped a free
handful of what had taken Cory years of patient seduction to
even touch.
"Hi, Cornell!" Angela gushed, having removed herself from
Shawn's side and thrusting her own succulent, teenage body
into the forefront of the basketball star's attentions.
"Yo, was'sup, Oreo ..." Cornell said absently, dismissively,
before turning back to Topanga.
Angela wilted under his ambivalence, further shrinking back
under Taniqua's sharp glare. Angela had tried to be friends
with the freshman girl. As one of the few black girls in school,
Angela thought she and Taniqua would immediately become
fast friends. That hadn't happened, though. Both Cornell and
his sister treated Angela with even more contempt than they
held for the school's white student population. Angela burned
whenever either DuPree called her Oreo. To the clueless white
kids in school, it just appeared to be a harmless nickname. To
a black, especially a suburban black, it was the most demeaning
of insults. *Black on the outside, White on the inside ...* That
blanket condemnation cut Angela to the core of her soul. First
she had to put up with Cory's racism, and now she had to
endure Cornell's disapproval. *Maybe I have been hanging out
with whites too long ...* she pondered her seeming loss of a
proud black soul. Moments before she had been arguing with
Cory and Shawn about the reality of slavery, and now she hardly
felt black at all ... not like Taniqua.
"Well, beseein' joo 'roun' ..." Cornell bobbed his head
playfully in Topanga's direction, and strode off with his
entourage, the sounds of "Cornell! Cornell!" echoing in
their wake.
"I've gotta get to class!" Angela announced sharply, darting
out from the group before anyone had a chance to say anything.
"We'll talk later, Cory," Topanga spoke evenly, the anger
now simmering in her voice. As Cory tried to lean over to give
his love at least a peck on the cheek, she coldly rebuffed him,
churning her hips and legs down the hall with a decisive fury.
"Not good, Cor ..." Shawn patted his best friend on the shoulder.
"Did you see the way she .. the way he ..." Cory was stupefied.
"They say once you've gone black, you'll never go back,"
Shawn tried to joke. "You'd just better hope Topanga
never buys a ticket."
"Fun-ny, Shawn ..." Cory was not the least bit amused.
"All kidding aside, Cor," Shawn whispered, "you'd better
watch out. Topanga's so mad at you right now, she might
just do something stupid to prove a point."
Any other time, Cory would have protested and defended
his absolute trust in Topanga. Now, however, he could only
think of two words. "Fucking nigger ..." he barely breathed.
"Fucking nigger ..." he repeated in case Shawn hadn't heard
Shawn said nothing in reply, just patting Cory on the back
as they headed for class.


"Mr. Feeny?" Topanga spoke as she rapped on the sagelike
educator's office door. "Do you have a minute?"
"For you, Miss Lawrence, I have an entire minute," Feeny
tried to sound gruff. It was how the kids expected him to be.
For some reason it made them more comfortable. He was
the wise mentor, and wise mentors are always gruff and some-
what superior acting. It was what gave them the air of
omniscience. "What is it?"
Topanga slid in and closed the door behind her. She paused a
moment and shrugged her shoulders, making her look both naive and
In all his years of being an educator and mentor, Feeny had
never come across a young woman quite as
lovely or overpoweringly sensual as Topanga Lawrence. She
was freshness waiting to be plucked; ripeness waiting to bit
into; the adolescent, virgin juices ... the first evidences of a
realized womanhood ... he could almost taste her inevitable
corruption on his lips, the blood of her purity impaled on the
spear-point of some young stud's proud manhood. And that
*stud* would be Cory Matthews, damn him. Feeny still
could not see it, and he knew he would never be able to. If
only she would be willing to place her succulent young soul
into the hands of a mentor, a master who would teach her body
pleasure the way it deserved to be taught .. and worshipped ..
worshipped like the renewal of life itself.
"Mr. Feeny ..?" Topanga's voice yanked him out of his reverie.
"Yes, Miss Lawrence, what is it now? More problems with
Mr. Matthews I presume ..."
"How did you know?"
"I see all and know all Miss Lawrence. Now get to the point."
"I think that assignment you gave Cory has made him a
racist," she cut to the chase.
"The argumentative paper?" Feeny arched his eyebrows.
"He now thinks blacks were better off as slaves. That's
totally wrong."
"Very few things are *totally* wrong, Miss Lawrence.
Take Mr. Mathhews's assignment. When I gave it to him, he
sounded just like you. However, he has read more on the
topic, and now he has a much a greater understanding of the
complex issues. I hardly think he believes slavery is *right.*
His mind has been opened. For every controversy there
exists two sides. Cory is just seeing the other side for the
first time. That hardly makes him a racist. If it did, every
great historian throughout time would be a racist. Perhaps
it would behoove you to examine the issue as well. You may
be surprised what you learn."
"I don't want to examine the issue!" Topanga waved her
hands in frustration. "I want Cory to quit being a racist,
that's all. You have to talk to him."
"I plan on it," Feeny smiled. "It was my assignment. If
Mr. Matthews wants to succeed as a writer on the college
level, he is going to have to get down to the very core of his
being, the 'long dark night of his soul,' if you will. If he
cannot, the others will leave him behind in the dust."
"You don't understand," Topanga. "You should have heard
what he said to Angela, and the way he looks at Cornell."
"Mr. Dupree .. ah ..." Feeny shook his head with an an-
noying all-knowing sigh.
"What does that mean?"
"This is not about Mr. Matthews paper, is it, Miss Law-
rence, or his racism ..?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Yes, you do, Miss Lawrence," Feeny felt his ancient,
atrophied cock suddenly rise to life like it sometimes did
unexpectedly. He saw exactly what was going on here.
Topanga Lawrence's issues were not with Cory Matthews
prejudices, but her own .. her white, teenage, sexual prejudices.
Not able to control himself, Feeny slid his hands in his pockets
and stroked his four-inch cock absently. It was the first time
he'd had a hard-on in almost a year, and he wasn't about to let
the moment slip away. *It's been so long ...* He tried to
concentrate on Topanga's eyes, but he couldn't help but drift
down her torso, his eyes desperately trying to catch the faint
outline of her nipples pressed against her tight white turtleneck.
"You have a certain fascination for Mr. DuPree, don't you?" he
probed, and he noticed Topanga's involuntarily shiver as he hit
the exposed nerves connected to her still-damp pussy.
"I don't know ..."
"You have obviously heard all the rumors that girls whisper
around at slumber parties and the like, Miss Lawrence. You
have heard that black men have huge penises and make a white
woman feel what no what white man can ever make her feel.
Total satisfaction ..." he stroked his cock even harder now,
trying to make the movements as imperceptible as possible
beneath the protection of his desk.
"Mr. Feeny ..." Topanga wanted to bolt out of the office as
quickly as she could, but part of her knew she had to stay and
hear this. She had to hear the truth she'd been denying to
herself these last months, ever since she had come face-to-face
with Cornell DuPree's majestic ebony presence. Yes, Mr.
Feeny was right ... *he always is, damn him ...*, and she owed
it to herself now to hear him out, to learn, to know the truth
about herself.
"Don't be alarmed, Miss Lawrence," he lowered his voice
while his fingers pumped his stiff prick. *You want that
big black stud's footlong schlong shoved down that pretty little
throat of yours, don't you, you shameless white whore ...*
Feeny hissed in his mind as he yanked his tiny, emaciated
cock even more viciously. "What you are experiencing
is quite common actually. I'd venture to say all white
women go through it at some time or another. There is
something about the forbidden nature of black skin ..."
*and cock ...*
"that .. titillates a young white woman such as your-
self. Next to sex with animals like horses and dogs, inter-
racial coupling with a black male is the most common forbid-
den fantasy indulged in by pampered white girls such as your-
self. In fact, your curiosity and arousal at the aspect of having
sexual intercourse with a black man is not that much different
than if you were to desire coitus with a stallion or large
dog ..."
*Oh, that's it, Miss Lawrence ...* Feeny tried to control
his breathing as he daydreamed. *Now get on all fours,
reach down around you, grab those pretty pink pussy lips,
stretch them apart, wider .. wider .. come on .. wider ... you must
stretch them as wide as possible to fit that enormous monstrous
prick inside your womb. Stretch them, Miss Lawrence. Harder!
Pull harder. You'll never be able to fit that giant prick up your
tight teenage twat if you don't stretch those little pussy lips
apart till they tear at the seams. That's it! Rip that pussy open.
You want that big cock shoved up all the way into toned, tight
tummy, don't you, you drooling white whore. You want the
bastards little black mud-child curled up in your belly, grafting
himself to your white womb like a bloodsucking parasite. You
fucking white-trash, teenage cunt ...*
"Mr. Feeny ..." Topanga was starting to back towards the
door slowly, the glazed look in the mentor's eyes beginning
to *seriously* creep her out. "I really think maybe I should
be going ..."
"No, Miss Lawrence," he croaked, his body twitching
slightly in his chair. "You will stay here to hear this. You
lust after the large black phallus because you believe it will
somehow quench the thirst you have for the bestial, the
savage. You think that will abate the hunger your young flesh
burns for, but it will not." He had fished his stubborn, tiny
prick out from the fly of his double-knit trousers, and was
now pulling it like a child trying to win his first circle jerk.
"The black man only cares about one thing. Subjugating
the pure white female and enslaving them beneath their
ruthless, unyielding sexual prowess. They seek the white
woman to pollute them, to violate the sanctity of their pure
blood, and pollute the gene pool. They know once the
white woman has crossed into the dark abyss of her own
perverse lust-sickness, she will never be able to crawl back
into the warm white-light of her racial legacy. She will
be a diseased outcast, and will have no choice but enslave-
ment, subjugation and utter submission to the Almighty Black
Phallus. Do you want that, Miss Lawrence? Do you want
to be holed up in a hotel room in the seedy side of town,
your arms and legs crisscrossed with the needle tracks of
the addiction your black pimp master has imposed on you
to control you ... turning $20 tricks in the front seats of cars
so you can take your pitiful cunt-money home to Daddy, all
in the hopes of scoring that next hit of smack and riding that
huge black donkey dick into oblivion ..."
*Get over here. ho'.* Feeny's thoughts snarled into an
audible whisper that now grew louder. His eyes rolled
back into his forehead, the drool starting to gurgle
from his mouth. "Suck my black cock, you good for
nothing piece of white garbage cunt. Ain't good for nothing
anymore. Come here, bitch. Gonna use your useless ass
to clean my toilet, ho'. That's it. I'm gonna stick your head
in the toilet and use your hair as a brush and scrub all the shit
and piss stains clean. That's it, ho'. You ain't nothing but
my toilet brush now, bitch. Pretty little Topanga, the toilet
brush. Now get back out there and put your sorry, crack-
addled mouth up for sale, and suck me some money. Suck
till you fucking get lock jaw, ho'. You better suck me home
$300 bucks, bitch, or I'll strap your filthy ass to the top of
the stove and fry me up your saggy little titties. Shit, I
remember when you used to such a fine little piece of fresh,
white cunt-meat. Now look at you, all skanky like a the little
piece of garbage pussy all you white cunts turn out to be.
Fucking whore, I said go suck me some money ..."
"Stop it!" Topanga screamed, flying out of the office,
but Feeny didn't even care anymore. His mind was lost in
the images of his youngest sister, Carey, the one no one
talked about anymore. The naive college student of the
radical 70s who took up with the heartless black pimp
who left her dead in the gutter three years later. When
they did her autopsy, they determined she had the body
of a fifty-year-old woman. She was only 21. And now
Topanga, too ... his Topanga. And he was too weak, too
white to help her. *God forgive you, Miss Lawrence. And
God protect you ...*


There she was, walking down the hall, like a scared little
white rabbit. What was that story again, the one they once
made him read, about the only thing they ever made him read.
*I'm late, I'm late, fo' a very 'portant date ...* he still remem-
bered that line after all these years. *What was that shit
again? Alice or some shit down the hole ..?* They had made
him read it, said they was gonna *educate* him, *educate* the
nigger. Then he grew a foot, kept on growing, and they found
he could shoot a silly orange ball through a 12-foot high basket.
And that was it for reading, and all that shit. Now he just
played ball, going from school to school to school, wearing
out his welcome and banging some prime white schoolgirl
pussy. Yeah, it was all fun and games when he first came,
and the basketball teams started winning, and everybody
said "let the *boy* do what he wants, as long as we win."
Then the white bastards found out out what they should have
known all along; that he wasn't there to play ball for them.
He could play ball anywhere he wanted. He was there to
cram their white daughters so full of hard black cock that
they'd never be satisfied with suburban creamed cock again.
Then the lynch mobs would start, or at least that's what his
mother called them. The parents would get together and
go to the school board and say "We want his black ass out
of there," and the school board would come to his mother
and say "your son's gotta go," and his mother would say, "my
boy's gotta right to go to school wherever we live, and we
ain't movin', at least not for a price," to which the white
bastards would cough up $40 or $50 grand just to get his
hard black ass out of town.
This was just the latest stop on the train, and he couldn't
even remember the name of this white-trash backwater. But
he knew the little white rabbit's name. *Topangy ... what kind
of fucked up shit is that ..?* he smiled as he saw her little
white legs scurry up the hall. *Yeah, a little white rabbit
bitch. Bet she fucks like a little bunny, too. Get one big
load of my black dick, and she'll be humping up and down
on it so hard she won't be able to pee for a week ...*
He watched her slow down and collapse against a locker,
her whole little pale cream body shimmying, like she was
in a horror movie or something. *Ho' need some comfortin'*
He looked around the hallway to make sure it was clear and
then bobbed up to where she was standing.
"Was'sup, Topangy?" he tapped her on the shoulder, and
she whirled around.
"Cornell!?" she sounded shocked, amazed, as if she'd just
seen a ghost, or she had just been thinking about his black cock
and there he was, popping up just like magic.
"I thought joo wuz go'n to class?" he asked.
"I ... I ..." she stammered and kept shuddering.
"Baby, was'sup wid joo?" he stroked the wisps of her hair
along her forehead and brushed them back. He relished the
power he exercised over her, making her gasp and tremble with
his lightest caress. *They all like this, all the white bitches ...*
But Topanga was just a little different. She was the sweetest,
juiciest morsel of prime white teenage schoolgirl pussy he had
ever laid eyes on. Her nipples were poking at her white turtle-
neck like little candy corn kernels, and he could see her flat,
hard belly quaking as she frazzled beneath his touch.
"I can't ... I don't ..."
"Joo need to chill, baby," he brushed his hand casually
along her hot, tear-stained cheek. "You like burnin' up or
somethin' ..."
"I just need to sit down," she heard herself say, "get myself
together ..."
"Better not be doin' that shit here in de hall," he commented,
a plan already beginning to formulate in his black soul. "Joo
get a deten'shun they find you out here all cryin' in the hall
and shit. Joo s'posed to be in class ..."
"What about you?" she suddenly realized that Cornell was in
the hallway by himself between classes.
"Me, I don' come to no classes," he smiled. "I's jus' go here
to school."
"You don't go to classes?" she was mortified.
"Baby, when joo shoot the ball likes me, they don' makes
you go to no classes. They jus' let joo like roam around and
shit, you know ..?" He could tell by her blank stare that she
didn't know. *Dumb little white schoolgirl cunt. Jus' de way
I likes 'em ...* "But e-nuff 'bout me," he placed his arm around
her shivering shoulders and practically lifted her small body off the
ground. "We gotsta get joo outta de hallway and shit 'fore
they's come and see joo and deten'shun jo ass."
"Where are we ..?" she found herself hardly able to protest
as he herded her into the nearby ladies room. "Cornell ..?!"
"You jus' chill, baby, Cornell'll take care of it," he
whispered, his dark hot breath running down her neck and
sweeping her lush, perky breasts. Her nipples were now
irritated to the size of bullets, and she could feel another
sopping puddle condense along her cunt walls and seep into
the crotch of her white, cotton panties. "Cornell gonna take
care 'a' evr'thin' .."
He lifted her up again and then plopped her cherry
white teenage ass down on the sink. She was looking down,
suddenly becoming all bashful, all scared, all I-Just-Bit-Off-
More-Than-I-Can-Chew, all I-Gotta-Get-The-Hell-Outta-Here.
But Cornell DuPree was having none of that shit, not from
this little white cunt. His dick had snapped back to its full
twelve-inches of recoil power, and it snaked along the left
leg of his baggy jeans just waiting to do some damage.
"Cornell, I don't thin ..."
"You don' gotta think, baby," he cooed. "Thinkin'
don' got nuttin' to do wid it no more. Dis is all that
matters ..." he blew his dark breath in her face as he
cupped her tiny, cold hands in his and lowered them to
the bulge in his baggy jeans. He sensed a little apprehen-
sion, but he was stronger than this white cunt, far stronger,
and he knew what she wanted anyway. What they all wanted;
a taste, a taste of what their limp-dick lily white fathers
told them they could never have unless they wanted to
be whores. Trouble was, they all wanted to be whores,
whores to an Almighty Black Cock. These teenage bitches
especially. They might act all scared and shit, but they
knew what they wanted. They just didn't know how to ask.
That was why he was always so forceful in the beginning,
to help them get over all that white brainwashing shit and
plunge deep into the black pool of their own insatiable
Topanga was shaking like a leaf now, her eyes bugged
out like the time he saw his first dead body, his homey
jut lying there in the street I a puddle of bullets and blood.
He'd been scared shitless, but also horrifyingly awed, his
fingers instinctively dabbing at the wet pools of blood,
licking his fingers, tasting life and death for the first time.
And that's how it must have been for the white cunt, too,
confronting the blackest side of her cunt-soul for the first time
in her white, schoolgirl-cunt life.
Her tiny hands felt like delicate flowers or tiny humming-
birds locked in the meaty callousness of his fingers. He gently
ran her imprisoned hands down the length of his monstrous
weapon, teaching her each of his 12-inches, and watching
the drool gurgle in pools around the corners of her mouth.
"Tha's all that matters now, baby ..." he purred as he
made her hands squeeze the plum-sized head of his sheathed
marauder. "You feel it, Topangy," he used her name to drive
home the point, to make clear his mastery over her. This wasn't
going to be some anonymous fling she could forget and go
skipping back into the white sunshine with her wormy white
boyfriend. This little devastation was going to be total; he was
going to rip her out of her safe little suburban world, impale her
virgin pussy on the end of her little white picket fence, and let her
owned, bloodied cunt hang out there to dry so all the other
little white schoolgirl cunts and their bastard fathers could see
his handiwork. "Tha's all that matters now ..." he made her
squeeze her hands around his cockhead again, and he saw her
nod slightly. *I got the cunt now ...*
A broad smile beamed across his face as he let go f her hands
and let her fly solo. Bashfully, her face stained a crimson
red, Topanga kept her thin, white fingers locked around the
horrifying bulge under Cornell's baggy jeans.
"That's it, baby, joo can squeeze it and hit. Go on, girl. Play
wid it, just like a little white schoolgirl cunt shakin' one a' her
presents at Christmas. Joo wanna open that up, don't'cha',
Topangy. Tell Cornell how you want to open your present." He
grabbed hr firmly by the hair to let her know that he was taking
his game up another notch and she'd best play along. He made
her nod her head up and down for a few seconds, until he let his
arm go slack and she was on her own. He watched her stupidly
nod her dumb white cunt head while kneaded his thick, schlong through
its denim prison. "All's joo gotta do is aks Cornell --
say: 'Cornell, can I open my present now. I wants jo big
black cock." he tightened his grip on her hair and raised her
mesmerized eyes until they were laser-locked on his gaze. Come
on, baby, aks me ... be a good little white girl and aks Cornell
can joo see his cock ..." he yanked her hair again so she got the
message that this could be either voluntary or compulsory.
"C .. can I open present now?" she stammered.
"Use my name, baby," he yanked her hair again. "Say it!"
"Can I open my present now, Cornell ..." her voice trailed
off. "I want your big black cock ..." her whisper was barely
"Come on, baby, you can say it louder," he jeered as he
forced her face down and mashed it up against his threatening
bulge. He then proceeded to rub it back and forth along the
entire length like she was eating an ear of corn. "Say it ..." he
"I want your big black cock," she gasped. "Please," she
started foaming at the mouth as she brushed her moist lips
up against its massive power. "I want to see your cock!"
He placed her fingers around his zipper and slapped the
backs of her hands. She took this as a signal to begin, and
she did -- scrambling frantically with his zipper and snaps with
one hand and trying desperately to snake her other hand inside
to get the goodies.
"That's my nice white 'ho ..." he chuckled, sticking one
of his black fingers in her mouth and allowing her to give him
a preamble to the skull fuck she was about to deliver.
At first he felt her start at the word *ho*, recoiling slightly
in apprehension, maybe even anger. But with another yank of
her hair, he kept her on task. He would teach her to respond to
the word *ho,* to embrace it, to love it, to be proud of it.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" her mouth uttered the blasphemy
that would have been inconceivable to her even a few minutes
earlier. But faced with the sheer size and fearsomeness of
Cornell's cock as she dragged out into the bleach-white air
of the high school's ladies room, they were the only words that
came to mind. She found saying the curse so liberating that
she repeated it again as he spanked his plum-sized cock-head
against her drooling lips. "Jesus fucking Christ, it's so fucking
huge." Instinctively, she bent forward to attack it, falling off the
sink and landing in a heap on the floor.
Grabbing the hose-like stalk with both hands, she attempted
to wrestle it between her quivering, slavering lips. Cornell
chuckled he watched her desperate struggle, slapping her hands
away and feeding her his devastating darkmeat while he forced
her hands down to her waist.


"I wanna see me d'ose creamy white tits, ho," Cornell was making
her grab the bottom of her turtle neck and pull the top loose from
where she had hurriedly tucked it into her skirt almost an hour before
... before, when she and Cory had been
making out in the front seat of his car and he had first heard him say
those horrible things about black people.
Without hesitating, she tugged the rest of her turtleneck out
of her skirt and began working the shirt up her toned tummy
and taut, succulent torso. Her titties jiggled in the confines
of her plain, white lace bra, and she suddenly found herself
a little self-conscious about her young body.
Would her tits be big enough for Cornell? She had never
worried with Cory before, but Cory was hardly the God Cornell was.
Cornell was gorgeous, inhumanly gorgeous, and all she wanted to do was
please him. Would her plain, lacy white bra make her look too much
like a little girl? She wanted more than anything to be desirable ...
a desirable (what had he called her?) .. a *ho.* She mulled the
words over in her mind as she absently stroked Cornell's huge dick.
She had never dreamed a male penis could be so large; even all the
about black men she had heard had never prepared her for
the iron-hard reality clutched anxiously in her eager palms.
*I hope I'm doing this right. God, I hope I'm doing this
right ....* She pulled the black teen's gargantuan cock and
ran her hands up and down the silky, ebony hardness,
amazed not only at the organ's size, but its perfect, veiny
proportions. It was like a piece of hot obsidian, sliding
between her fingers as she strove to duplicate the maneuvers
she had once seen in a porno movie one of her little
girlfriends had sneaked into a pajama party. It had been
such a long time ago, before her and Cory had even been
going out, and she recalled vividly the way she had played
with her pussy in still silence beneath the folds of her
sleeping bag. She had diddled her tiny clit to her first,
prepubescent cum that night, and the sensation had haunted
her dreams ever since.
Never again, no matter how hard she tried, had she been able to
equal the half-nauseous, half-electrifying thrill of that first
cataclysmic cum as it quaked through her young, preteen body. She
had cum so hard, she wet her sleeping bag, and for weeks after-
ward her parents were concerned she might have a bladder
problem. But how do you tell your parents not to worry,
that the wetness wasn't pee but a veritable deluge of pre-
teen pussy juice? How do you tell your parents that you, perfect
little Topanga Lawrence, are a horny little, clit-diddling slut?
No one would ever be able to understand, not her parents, and
certainly not Cory.
*Cory ..!* The blaze of anger inside her roared up again.
All those years putting up with his pathetic adolescent fumblings,
his inexperienced, lily-white suburban schoolboy attempts to
'turn her on:' his lame tongue, his awkward fingers, the tiny
worm-like white dick she could feel pressed against her
thighs when he tried to dry hump her. There he was, telling
her blacks deserved to be slaves when he was not one-one-
hundredth the man Cornell DuPree was. *Poor, stupid little
white-ass Cory ...* she cursed her *boyfriend* as she hunkered
down on Cornell's magnificent black flesh cannon. *I wish
he'd walk in here right now and see this, him and stupid old
Mr. Feeny ...*
She was wetter now than she'd ever been before, and
since that first, secret preteen cum at the pajama party, she
had been caught up in an obsessive pursuit to duplicate
the intensity of that original cum-quake; but nothing had
ever come close, despite the fevered evenings in her pink,
princess bed, where the Lawrences' darling little All-Ameri-
can girl anxiously taught her virgin cunt to achieve an almost
endless string of sharp cum-bursts, multiple orgasms that
popped along her spinal cord and down into the walls of her
sopping wet pussy like tiny little firecrackers. But never the
*Big One,* not like that first time, when her smooth tummy
rippled like a bowl of fleshy Jell-O. Now, however, with
Cornell, she felt she might be able to duplicate that first,
sublime climax. As she pumped his cock like a crazed teen
fuck toy, she felt his body tense up.
"Joo like jacking that big black cock, don't'cha', ho?"
he quizzed her as he pushed her by the back of the head so that
her dimpled cheeks grazed the dark, plum-sized bulb of his
dick-head. "I's gonna feel even better slidin' in that hot, wet mouth
'of jo's, ho," he spanked the meaty warhead across her
lips, coaxing her to instinctively stick out her tongue
and pant like a little, white mouth-puppy. "How 'bout
dat, ho, joo wan' my big black cock between 'dose sweet
lips of yours? Little teenage, white-trash ho," he spit in her
hair as he slam-dunked his fuck-muscle between her eager jaws.
Topanga Lawrence was now trying to do what had never
even crossed her mind before. She wanted all of the black
stud's enormous fuck-tool crammed down her throat.
She wanted to taste it all the way down to her tonsils. She wanted
to choke to death on its unrelenting power. She wanted
Mr. Feeny and Cory and all the rest of the racist white men
she knew to find her there, Cornell Dupree's 12-inch black prick
lodged in her windpipe. That would show them That would
prove once and for all she was not just some pampered,
lily-white, suburban, goody-two-shoes princess.
"Okay, ho," he coaxed another inch in her mouth, batting
away her hands and making her wrestle with the entire girth
using her lips and tongue. "No hands, bitch .." he scolded.
"All you white bitches always wantin' to use jo m'fuckin' hands
all de time. Was'sup wid dat? Ain't no hands when you
suck a black man's dick, ho. We jus' fuck the white
cunt's mouth ..." he told her as he powered even more of his
black schlong into her gasping mouth. "Fuck her down the
fucking throat .. jus' like dat ..." he mumbled as he fed her
yet another inch of his mammoth tool. "How's dat, ho. Joo like
"Umm hmmm ..." she grunted between mouthfuls of his Grade A
dark meat.
"Tell me then, ho," he ordered as he withdrew his drool-covered
splooge-pistol with a resounding *pop* from her already exhausted
mouth. "Say -- 'My name is Topangy the ho', and I love sucking big,
black cock ..." He yanked her head up by the back of her hair and
spanked his plum-sized prick-helmet across her apple-pie, Miss
Teen USA cheeks. "Say it, ho."
"My name is Topanga the ho," she pronounced the word with
her best *street* voice, "and I love sucking big black cocks ..." she
gushed, her body and mind totally surrendering to the six-foot, nine-
inch God of the Jungle.
"There you go, ho, you can have some more now ..." he teased her
he shoved his dick into her greedy, gasping mouth one inch at a
time. "Suck some mo' cock, ho'. Better learn you how to suck some
black cock, ho, cause you're gonna need to know how from now on.
Dis ain't no limp little white worm dick, ho. Dis here's a big black
shovin' down jo little white schoolgirl throat ... big black cock
fuckin' dat sweet little white schoolgirl throat of yours ..." he spit
in her
face as he drove his point home on the end of his merciless
"Oooo, yeah, Topangy. Suck some more. Jus' like dat, you white
Take dat big black cock -- all of it, ho! How joo like that, ho? How
joo like
that big black cock crammed down jo little white throat ..."
"Ugghhlllll ..." Topanga tried to speak, tried to breathe, but
was coming out of her mouth save the drool pouring out the corners
of her stretched-out lips.
"Joo learnin' good for a white-trash ho," Cornell jeered as he
managed to shove almost half his prick into her oral cavity. "Couple
mo' lessons, s'I have joo turnin' tricks on the nasty side of town,
little freaky, white trash ho. How joo like that, ho? Turn joo out,
make joo suck cock all day long? How joo like that?"
"Mmmmm hmmm ..." Topanga Lawrence was obsessed now with
leaning the fine art of cocksucking. She wanted so much to please
Cornell. She loved his enormous, pain-wielding black cock. She
loved his chiseled black body. She loved him!
"Okay, dat's enough, ho," he tugged his cock out from her
mouth with a satisfying bitch slap across her apple-dumpling cheeks.
"I's gonna have to teach joo how to suck some more cock later on.
stand up, ho," he pulled her into a standing position by her hair, and
meekly complied. "Joo got some nice tits there, ho ..." he licked
his lips as he batted her boobies sadistically through the lacy
confines of
her plain, white, suburban schoolgirl bra. "Little nip action goin',
I see ..." he whistled as he freed one stiff, rubbery bullet from her
tit cup, and rolled it like a pee between his beefy, callused fingers.
"Oh, Cornell," she moaned half in the delicious agony of his
nipple mauling, and half in the pain shooting through her sensitive
aureole as he pinched the puffy, pink skin and drew a faint
trickle of blood.
"Joo my little pain freak, ain'tcha', Topangy," he spit in her
eyes as he harried her other puffy aureole, leaning down to
bite the succulent pink bulb with a bloodthirsty savagery.
"My little white-trash whore, schoolgirl pain freak, ain't cha ..?"
"Yes, Cornell," she droned on, completely under his spell.
"I'm your little white schoolgirl pain freak. Pinch my tits.
Harder ... as hard as you want ... whatever you want, just please
shove that big dick up inside me. I want to feel that big cock
drilling my tight pussy and burying itself right up into my
fucking lungs. Ohhhhhhh ..." she squealed in shock as he
grabbed her by the hair and pulled her over to one of the
One of his pimp friends had once told him about this,
the sure-fire way to break a white bitch. Shove her head
in a dirty toilet and make her clean it with her head.
Then fuck her up the ass while she's being a human
toilet brush. So, that's what he was going to do now, take
the bitch's pretty, white, All-American face and drive it hard
into the cold, putrid water inside the stinking toilet-bowl.
"UGGHHLLLGGGG" she tried to fight back, but he was
five-times her strength, and her pathetic struggles only made
him harder, hotter, more ruthless.
"Joo wanna be my ho, bitch?" he asked. "Do joo?"
"Yes," she bawled, "please ...."
"Then you gotta learn jo place," he shoved her face
down again so she had to take yet another revolting mouth-
ful of putrid water. "Jo my white-trash, ho, bitch. Say
"I'm your white-trash ho," she echoed.
"And if I tell you to drink piss water, what'choo gonna
do, bitch?" he pressed on.
"I will," she blubbered. "I'll drink it!"
"Because I'm your ho," she wailed before he dunked
her head again, this time flushing the commode so that the
swirling water cascaded down her face as she struggled
for a few breaths and what was left of her dignity.
"Joo scoot down that fucking skirt, ho," he commanded
as he slapped her ass with a resounding *thwack.* "Let me
see that fine white ass of jo's. Show your black lover that
soft pink ass ..." He watched as she managed to reach behind
herself and yank down her plaid skirt. Her ass was spectacular, even

for a white bitch's -- plump, round, smooth and toned. He bit her
soft butt cheeks through her white lace panties, and she squealed,
kicking her legs like a ladybug trapped under a pin. When she
squealed, he grasped her panties by the elastic waist band and pulled
up until the crotch bunched into the size of a string rubbing
along the ridge between her pussy and asshole. Her entire
white ass exposed now, he slapped her so hard on her succulent
butt-cheeks her teeth rattled, and she squealed again.
*Thwack!* Cornell unleashed another blow to her exposed white
bottom, which was now tinged with a sharp, reddish hue and adorned
with the black teen's huge handprints. She squealed again, this
time more softly, but Cornell still dished out his discipline. "Ho
need to know her man mean bid'ness," he moved aside the panties
rubbing across her pussy and butt-cleavage and shoved his long fingers
into the crack of her ass, scooping up some of the ample pussy
juice drenching her soft, downy crotch. "Got some pussy
hairs on joo, don'cha', ho ..?" he laughed as he stroked her
slicked-down pubes and teased her clit.
"Oh, please fuck my pussy," she whined like the spoiled little
suburban white princess she had always been. "Put your hard
black cock up my tight pussy. Pop my fucking cherry with
that awesome black dick. Oh, I love you so much, Cornell.
Please fuck me. Make me your good little white ho ..."
"Joo cherry den, aint'cha?" Cornell asked, not surprised really,
just mildly curious.
"Uh huh .." Topanga tried to be a good girl, and gritted her
teeth as the huge black teen began splaying open her tight
cunt and working even more of his fingers inside.
"An' joo ain' never done nuttin' with that ofay boyfriend
of jo's ..? Was'his name again ..?"
"Cory .." she yipped as Cornell worked yet another finger
inside her ripe, virgin cunt. "No .. he's never.. I wouldn't let
him ... uggghhhhhh ..." she had to stop as Cornell pinched
her clit and bit her lovely ass cheeks once again.
"So's joo a virgin white cunt?" Cornell kept up his inter-
rogation. "And now's joo wanna get jo cherry popped by
a big black dick ..?"
"Yes," she bawled, "please ... more than anything I've ever
wanted. Please ..."
"I's tell joo what, Topangy de ho," he cackled as he pulled her
head out of the toilet. "Joo really love me like joo's be sayin',
or'r'joo jus' playin' Cornell like he be some fool ..?"
"I love you Cornell," she mustered up every last ounce of
emotion she possessed in order to convince him of the fact.
"I'd do anything for you. I'd do anything to feel that big,
black cock of yours buried in my tight, white, virgin pussy."
"Joo my ho, den?"
"I'm jo ho," she whined. "Now please just fuck me. My
pussy is so wet for you. I feel so .. empty inside. I've wanted
to feel a cock up my pussy for such a long time, but it was
never right .. not with Cory or anybody. But they aren't
you. I love you, Cornell. I worship you. I want you to
be my first. I want to feel that huge, awesome cock of yours
pop my cherry. I don't want to be the good little white girl
anymore ... sweet little Topanga, the little white princess.
I want to be a ho .. a real ho .. your ho."
"I's aint gonna fuck joo now, bitch," Cornell smiled
as he stood up, a plan formulating in the dark recesses
of his soul. "Caus' I really don't know if joo love me
like joo say, or joo just playin' me, gettin' jo kicks fuckin'
a big black cock, den joo's gonna run right back to that
ofay boyfriend of jo's, and the laughs on Cornell den,
and Cornell don' like dat shit ... hear?"
"Cornell," she began crying. "I said I loved you.
I said I wanted you to be my first ..."
"Don' matter, bitch," he sneered. "White-trash hos
been tellin' me dat shit my whole fuckin' life. Ain't none
o' dem ever tol' me de trufe. So's why should I be believin'
joo now, bitch ..?"
"You have to believe me, Cornell," she wailed desperately.
"You have to .."
"I's don' haffa do nuttin', bitch, not unless I's have me
some proof ..." he paused. "Yeah, dat's what I need me, some
proof. How 'bout that, ho, joo wanna give me some proof?"
"Anything .." Topanga bawled. "Anything ..."
"My respec' is very p'otant to me, ho, joo got dat?" he watched
her nod dumbly, like a little white fuck-puppy. "Joo be my ho now,
dat means joo gonna have to be proud'a dat. Dat means joo gonna
have to tell ev'rybody, joo say: 'I's Cornell's ho. I's Cornell's
cocksucking white ho bitch .. got dat ..?" He watched her nod again.
"Okay, den, here's de way its gonna be, den. Joo be my ho, joo gonna
have to do somethin' gonna show me and everyone else out dere dat
joo my ho. That don' jus' mean all dem white boys 'round here like
jo ofay boyfriend. Dat means jo parents, everyone ..."
"Okay, I understand," she whined impatiently. "What do you want
me to do? Wear a ring or something?"
"A ring?!" Cornell burst out laughing. "You really are a little
lily-white suburban princess, ain't'cha ..."
"I am not!" she protested.
*Whack!* His huge black hand came out f nowhere and practically
slapped her head off. There was a blinding, thudding flash across her
brain, and then she found herself cringing at the monstrous boy's
the taste of blood filling her mouth.
"Now how joo ever gonna be my ho, joo don' respect me?" he asked,
rubbing his Air Jordans in her face, then pulling her up by the hair
so she was looking him in the eye again. "Joo know what joo did, ho?"
he asked.
She nodded her head submissively. She had raised her voice to
disagreed with him. Her body burned with shame. She needed to
forget all the stuff she'd learned before -- about self-respect, about
a brain, about being worthwhile. She loved Cornell, and the only
she could allow herself to think about now was how to worship his
black cock so that he would love her, too.
"Joo don' ever talk back to me like dat 'gain, ho .. joo got me?"
She nodded again.
"I's see joo gonna need some more moddy-fi-cations before joo my
ho," he shook his head and sighed. "Now tilt jo head back and smile
up at me. I wanna se dem pearly white teeth, you fresh, white cunt.
Let me see that yearbook smile, bitch, that smile joo give jo parents
every morning when dey be thinkin' joo some little white princess,
but you been out all night sucking big black dicks. Let's see dat
All-American smile, ho!"
She tried her hardest to give him the biggest, whitest smile she
could. She would please him. She would make him forget she dis-
respected him. She stretched the corners of her mouth so wide she
thought her face might tear. And what made it even more painful
was the fact that Cornell's huge dick had torn her mouth all out of
shape when he was face-fucking her. But she tried, her teeth
flashing up at her God while tears of pain streamed down her face.
"Now we gonna play the model game, ho," he hissed. "Joo gotta
hold jo face like dat, just like dat without movin', joo don' move
one fuckin' inch ... hear? And joo don't say a fucking word, jus'
like joo's some model in some magazine ... got that?"
She nodded.
*Whack!* "I said don' joo fucking move, ho. Joo hold still ...
joo got dat?"
This time she nodded, trying so hard to keep her smile that
she felt she might faint. And all she could do is smile up at her
Black God as he began stroking his gorgeous black godhood
inches from her pearly teeth. While he pumped with one hand,
he stroked her pretty face lightly with his other, caressing
her nose, lips and eyelids, then running his fingernails down
the rows of her teeth with a clicking sound. And still she
kept smiling, waiting, wanting, worshipping. He now rubbed
his cock across her posed face, fucking the obscenely large
head into her flaring nostrils as she wondered whether he was
going to blast his cum up her nose.
"Dat's a good ho ..." he cajoled her as he moved his cock-
head down from her nose and began running it up and down
the rows of her teeth.
Drool started condensing and pouring out the corners of
her mouth as she anticipated the hot streams of black cum that
were inevitable. *Maybe he'll shoot off in my mouth ...* she
told herself. *God, wouldn't that be great, firing off that big
huge load of black cum all the way down my throat so I could
drink it all up ...*
""I's gonna cum, ho .." Cornell suddenly announced as
his piss-hole began spurting volley after volley of hot, sticky
cum all over her picture-perfect, yearbook smile. And she held
perfectly still, too, as Cornell rubbed his leaking prick all
over her All-American face. "Now that's gonna be jo
*ring*, ho. That's what jo gonna wear 'round all day show
everyone joo my ho. Joo gonna walk around with my dried-up
scum on jo face, and everyone gonna ask you, say: 'was'sup
wid dat, Topangy?' And joo gonna say: 'Dat's Cornell's cum
on my face 'cause I his cocksucking, white ho. Do joo got dat,
bitch? Do joo?"
She nodded slightly, not sure yet if she could move her face.
"And no panties neither, bitch," he ordered her, "and no bra.
My hos don't wear no fucking undiewear, joo got dat..?"
She nodded again, her yearbook smile still plastered on her
defiled face.
"Joo can move now," Cornell patted her on the top of the head
like a good little white fuck-puppy.
"Are you going to fuck me now?" she begged submissively.
"I's tol' joo, joo gotta prove jo'self to me. I's got to know me
dat jo my ho."
"Then what do I have to do to prove it to you?"
"Walkin' 'round wid my cum on jo face all day be good for
starters and shit," he smiled. "But dere's other stuff, y'know ..?"
"Like what?"
"Before's I calls joo my bitch and fucks joo all regular and
joo gotta prove to me joo down wid me and all dat shit ..."
"How?" she was whining again.
"I's belong to dis gang down by where I used to live and shit,"
Cornell began. "Dey's my homeys and shit, you understand ..?"
She nodded, not daring to interrupt him.
"And joo see, we 've got this kind of .. 'rangement and shit.
It has to do wid our hos and shit ..."
"What is this arrangement?"
"When we find a virgin white cunt, we take her into the gang,
and everybody gets a chance bustin' her cherry, dat's all. It's
no big deal, but if joo gonna be my ho, joo gonna have to be
down and shit wid my homeys, cause dey my peeps, you under-
stand ..? And we share and share alike, and if joo gonna
be my ho joo gonna have to let them gangbang joo and shit.
Then, if joo's cool and all dat, and joo meet their approval,
then we brand you and shit so's everybody knows joo our white
ho. Joo do dat shit for me, and we be down then. Joo be my
ho den, and I's fuck jo little white pussy and ass all's joo
*Gangbanged ... Branded ..* The very brutality and animalism
of the images made Topanga Lawrence even hotter and wetter,
if that was at all possible. "Okay," she nodded. "I'll do it. I'll
do anything to be your ho."
"I be pickin' joo up around six then," Cornell said matter-
of-factly as he put his monster cock back in his pants. "And
remember, joo gotta wear dat fucking cum on jo face all day,
or we ain't down, got that ..?"
"I'll be good," Topanga smiled up at Cornell as he gave her
a nod and hurried out the door. "I'll be your good little
white cocksucking whore!" she shouted after him.


"Topanga? " Angela had to look three times at her pretty
classmate before she was truly sure that the girl sitting alone
at the cafeteria table was Topanga Lawrence, girlfriend of
Cory Matthews, and the school's reigning All-American
icon of wholesomeness. Topanga looked like she'd just been
through a fight with a pack of wild dogs. Her eyes were
hollow sockets of white filled with dilated black pupils.
Her always immaculately styled hair now lay in a frazzled
mess, and her mascara had smeared into raccoon-eyes. Then
there was the dry encrusted gunk that looked like .. no, it
couldn't be ... could it? It sure looked like it ...*No, there's
no way. Not Topanga ...* But Angela couldn't take her eyes
off the defiled beauty. There was a story here. Something
had happened to her friend, and she was determined to find
out what.
"Hi, Angela," somehow Topanga managed a bright,
almost horrifyingly cherubic smile ... only there was
something else behind it ... or a lack of something, perhaps.
Yes, that was definitely it. For all the luster of her perfectly-
formed, toothy smile, any sense of a soul had been stripped
from it. And there was that stuff, that ... stuff ... all over her
"What happened to you?" Angela couldn't help but
blurt out.
"Cornell fucked my face in the girls bathroom," Topanga
kept smiling as she said the most obscene words she had
ever spoken to another human being aside from her black
stud God. "I'm his white-trash cocksucking ho now," she
beamed her soulless smile with even more intensity. "At
least I will be after I pass his final test tonight. He's gonna
offer my virgin cunt and asshole to all his homeys down in
the hood where he grew up. Then, if I'm a real good white
cocksucking ho, they might brand me and let me be down
with them. That'll be so cool. Then me and Cornell can
be together forever, and I'll get to feel his big, 12-inch
black cock stuffed up my white cunt and asshole. That'd
be so cool, wouldn't it. To be his ho. You wouldn't
believe how big his cock is, Angela, especially when he's
shoving it down your throat. He could only get it halfway
down my throat before I gagged on it. But he's going to
choke fuck me some more when I become his ho and teach
me how to take it all down my throat so he can just fuck
my face ..."
"Topanga ..?!" If Angela didn't see the utterly vacant,
zombie-like glaze over Topanga's eyes, she might have
thought this whole conversation was some kind of sick
joke. But it was no joke. Topanga was talking like
a slut, some kind of blitzed-out sex freak ... Topanga
Matthews, the All-American white girl Angela had always
secretly envied to the point of wanting to be just like
"I don't know why you'd ever go out with Shawn,"
Topanga prattled on. "His a worm-dick white boy,
just like that faggot Cory. I can't believe I was going
to spend my life with that limp-dick whiteboy. I've
felt Cory's cock through his jeans a bunch of times,
and it's like maybe five inches, and that's when he's
hard. That's not even half as long as Cornell's cock
when it's limp, and I don't think my Cornell is ever
limp. Shawn's dick can't be much bigger than Cory's.
I don't see how you could put up with that when there's
like millions of black guys around with big cocks who'd
love to shove them down your throat and fuck your
pussy and ass. I bet a lot of black guys would love
to make you there ho. Maybe you could come to
Cornell's party down in the hood tonight, and we can
find you one of his homeys, and you can be a ho
just like me. Come on, Angela, will you ..?"
"Topanga, would you listen to yourself?"
"I am listening to myself .. for the first time in 16
years," Topanga spoke with the dazed certainty of a
cult member. "I've always known I wanted to be a
black guys ho," she observed. "I just didn't let myself
do anything about it because I was supposed to always
be Miss Perfect little whitebread All-American girl.
Well, I've seen the light. No more Topanga Lawrence,
the good little girl. I'm Topangy the ho; that's what
Cornell calls me. I love it when he calls me that. I
love it when he says -- 'suck my cock, ho' -- and he's
shoving his cock down my throat until I fucking gag.
If you weren't such an Oreo, you'd be down with
black guys, too, instead of trying to be white with all
these limp-dick, cream losers like Shawn."
"Shawn is not a loser!" Angela fumed. For the second
time today she'd had her racial pride insulted by the very
same people who were supposed to be her closest friends.
"How big is his dick?" Topanga pressed.
"I .. I don't know ..." Angela stuttered.
"Sure you do. You guys have been going out for months.
Shit happens. Any girl knows how big her guy's dick is
after that long. So tell me. What is it, five inches, maybe
six ..?"
Angela shook her head, tears starting to run down her
eyes. *Why are you talking this way?* she wanted to
scream, but her voice was locked in silence.
"You know what you are, Angela?" Topanga kept up
her attack. "You're an Oreo, just like Cornell and Taniqua
say you are. You're ashamed of being black. If you could,
you'd try and scrub all the black off yourself with a bar of soap,
wouldn't you ..? I can't believe you'd turn your back on your
people, on all those black men with their wonderful, huge,
juicy cocks. You won't ever be a black woman until you
start worshipping black cock, Angela. Then you'll be free."
"Please stop .." Angela was sobbing now.
"I'm not going to stop, because you need to hear this. It's for
your own good. You need to get back down with your homeys,
Angela. You need to forget all this white suburban limp-dick
bullshit and come with me to Cornell's party and get back
down with the 'hood. A hot black cunt like you is wasting
yourself with worm-meat like Shawn. Don't you want to
suck a big black cock, Angela. Don't you want a real man?
A black man?"
Before Angela could think about what she was doing, she
began nodding her head.
"Hey, what's up?" Cory's voice interrupted the girls'
conversation as he approached from behind.
Neither girl responded as he and Shawn sat down at the table.
"Topanga, I've been thinking about what I said, and ..." his
voice trailed off into a dumbfounded silence. "Wh .. what the
hell happened to you ..?" he stammered when he finally took
in all of Topanga's ravaged features.
His girlfriend and love of his life just flashed back a vacant
smile. "Cory, we're through. I got face fucked by Cornell's 12-
inch prick in the girls restroom, and I'm his ho now. This is his
cum all over my face. I have to wear it all day to show everyone
I'm his ho and prove I'm worthy. Sorry," she sounded as casual
as if she was telling him what she had for lunch, "here's your
ring back." She handed him the ring, which he accepted in a
state of shock. "Come on, Angela, we have to get ready for
the party." She rose from the table headed towards the exit.
"Sorry, Shawn," Angela smiled weakly at the white boy
she knew would never satisfy her. "Taniqua and Cornell are right.
I've been lying to myself all this time. I was only dating you
because I was trying to be white. I was nothing but an Oreo,
and it's time I got back to being black. See ya'."
Both girls practically skipped out of the cafeteria, leaving
Cory and Shawn in utter stupefaction.
"What??!!" Cory finally exploded, rising from his seat and
attempting pursuit.
"Cor, no!" Shawn pulled him back, but Cory just went nuts,
his arms flailing about as tears streamed down his boyish face.
"We can't just go ..."
"Topanga!" Cory screamed, breaking away from his best friend
and bounding out of the cafeteria trying to pick up Topanga's
trail in the crowded hallway. He thought he spied her blue
skirt whip out the main doors, and he flew to the entranceway.
The yard was clear except for Taniqua DuPree lounging against
one of the benches smoking a cigarette.
"You nigger bitch!" Cory shrieked at the hot, black freshman.
"Where's your fucking brother, and what did he do to Topanga."
"He turned her *black*, Cream," Taniqua snorted, "that's what
he did. Turned her white ass *black.*"
"You fucking little kinky-haired nigger cunt," Cory howled
as he yanked her by her plaits and tried to force her to the ground.
But Taniqua DuPree was not some frail freshman girl who might
submit to such brute force. She had grown up on the streets,
and no limp-dick white boy was going to manhandle her.
She lashed out with a kick to Cory's puny groin, and twisted
her body around. The whitebread high school boy let go of
her hair and slumped to the ground. When he opened his eyes,
he felt the cold glint of a knife blade at his throat, and Taniqua's
wild white eyes peering into his terrified soul.
"Now you my bitch, Cream," she hissed. "You fucked with
me, and now I gonna make your white as pay. You hear me,
motherfucker ..?"
"P .. put the knife down, Taniqua," Shawn's voice sounded
over Cory's shoulder. Cory tried to turn to his friend, but
Taniqua's strength and the blade at his jugular held him fast.
"You don't want to do this ..." Shawn offered.
"Sure I do, Cream," she spit in Cory's eye. "Sure I wants
to cut your lily-white faggot boyfriend here. I'm one crazy
nigger bitch, Cream. You don't want to fuck with me, do you?"
"No one wants to fuck with you, Taniqua," Shawn was still
trying to play mediator with teenage psycho. "Just let him go."
"I got me a better idea, Cream," Taniqua smiled. "You wants
to save your boyfriend here, you get over here." She pressed the
blade against Cory's throat so that a sliver of blood seeped out.
"I said 'get over here!'"
Shawn steeped slowly over to where Cory cowered dominated
at the feet of the disturbingly breathtaking black teenage goddess.
"I been watching you two cream faggots ever since I got here
in this school, and I know what you tow faggots are .. fucking
faggots for each other. You try to hide it and shit with your
girlfriends and shit, but I know what you two faggots really
want." She pressed the knife into Cory's gulping neck again,
slicing another trickle from his soft, white flesh. "Now you,"
she gestured to Shawn. "Pull out that little white worm dick
of yours and give it to Cream here," she nudged Cory and
pulled his head up by his hair.
"You can't be serious ..." Shawn's eyes were bugged out in
"Oh, I'm serious, Cream," she snarled. "I'm one serious
psycho bitch you don't ever want to screw with. Now whip out
that little dick of yours and stick it in your faggot boyfriend's
mouth, or I'll give him a big old Kool-Aid smile."
"Shawn, my God, don't ..." Cory managed to gulp. "Don't!"
"Okay, then, you die, Cream," Taniqua started drawing the
blade across Cory's exposed, white throat. "Don't make no fucking
difference to me. I'm a fucking minor. I get it the same whether I
smoke your ass or not. Far as I'm concerned, just one more dead
white male ..." She drew blood and the blade sank in deeper.
"Stop!" Shawn bawled. "I'll do it. Don't kill him. I'll do
it. I'll do anything, just don't kill Cory." He began to hurriedly
unzip his jeans and fish out his five-inch worm dick. Disgustingly,
it was rock hard. Tears streamed down his face in utter shame.
He tried to tell himself it was out of sheer terror, that somehow his
brain had become fried, and his body had mistaken danger for
arousal. But Shawn knew the truth. He'd had dreams, vague
fantasies. He'd watched Cory when they showered together
in gym or when they went swimming. Sick as it might make
him, he knew that part of him had always longed for the contact
now being coerced from them. *Cory, I'm so fucking sorry ...*
Cory tried to turn his head away from Shawn's proud, puny
pecker as it grazed the teen's trembling lips. But the knife
quickly flashed from his throat to rest against Shawn's balls.
Cory gulped.
"Okay, now, Cream," she slapped Cory in the back of the
head. "Now it's do-or-die time for you now, too. You open
your fucking mouth and start sucking your little boyfriend's
cock, or I hack off his balls and shove 'em down your fucking
throat." The blade of the knife now drew a crimson stripe
along Shawn's prickly scrotum.
Both boys were bawling like little children now as one
opened his mouth, and the other slowly inserted his hard,
five-inch prick.
"Now that's it, you fucking lily-white sissy boys," Taniqua
cackled as she danced the blade from neck to balls, balls to
neck -- swiping the occasional nick here and there to keep
them honest.
"Jee-zus, lookee dat!" Cornell DuPree's voice boomed across
the courtyard as a chorus of hundred voices swelled up into a
raucous explosion of jeers and mockery.
Vomit began to spill out of Cory's mouth as Shawn's
proud pecker slid past the boy's lips and bumped into the
roof of his mouth.
"That's it, puke over it, Cream," Taniqua jeered to
the cheers of the mob that now encircled the forced homo-
sexual coupling. "Puke over your faggot boyfriend's cock.
All you white worms ain't nothin' but closet queers.
Now suck his cock while all your little white school buddies
watch. Suck it, bitch ..." she hacked a tiny chunk off Shawn's
prickmeat, and he yelped in pain. "Suck it or I'll castrate his
white ass right now."
Cory blubbered like a little baby, but concentrated
on opening his mouth further and sucking on his best friend's
hard dick. It was so hard and unyielding as it bumped in and
out of his mouth. *He's ... Shawn is ... He's ... My God!*
The horror sent another hiccup of vomit steaming up his
esophagus, and he puked even more spit and bile over Shawn's
thrusting dick. Yes, Shawn was fucking his face, and judging
by the vacant blissed-out look on his friend's face, Sean was
totally into Cory's mouth rape. In fact, it was a few short
seconds later that Cory felt Shawn's cock twitch and the boy's
hands grasp Cory by the back of his head and hold him in
place as he fired his steamy load down Cory's retching throat.
"Pull it out, Cream," Taniqua sneered as the crowd let loose
a cheer. "I like it all nasty and shit. I wanna see me some cream
on the Cream's faggot face."
Shawn, his eyes open and locked in a trance-like state, did as he
was told, spattering another volley over Corey's face and rubbing
it across Cory's ravaged face.
"I told you they was faggots," Taniqua played to the crowd of
students who had never seen anything so depraved and thrilling
in their young, sheltered, suburban lives. "Faggot little cock-
sucking queers, ain't cha', Cream." Taniqua put the knife back to
Shawn's dribbling dick and he nodded dumbly.
"We gotta go, sis," Cornell suddenly appeared at her side, and
scooped up his sister as the front doors flew open and a bout twenty
teachers. Mr. Feeny, and the school's security guard came pouring
"Mr. Mathhews ... Mr. Hunter ...?" Mr. Feeny was in utter shock
as he watched the DuPree siblings hop into a car and go speeding away.
"I always thought you were fags," Topanga's voice jeered from the
crowd as it milled around the defiled teens. "I hope you two have
a nice life together ..."
Neither Shawn nor Cory dared look at each other as the courtyard
was cleared and an ambulance and two police cars came roaring
up. "Did you see Matthews suck Hunter's dick," the random voices
assaulted their ears as they were swarmed with medical and law
enforcement personnel. "He went down on that boy like a fucking
seal ... arooof ... arooof ...."


"You ready?" Angela asked Topanga as the teen beauty
bounded down the stairs.
"Do I look all right?" Topanga asked, curtsying slightly.
Except for the dried cum that still smudged her cheeks in
crusty gobs, Topanga Lawrence looked to be the quintes-
sence of white, All-American teenage beauty. Cornell
had called her and told her to dress her most "little
miss white suburban schoolgirl." He told her that's what
his homeys liked, to fuck prim. proper white schoolgirl
cunts and make them beg for more black cock shoved up
their perfumed, pink pussies. "I want Cornell and his
homeys to like me," Topanga pouted slightly, unsure if
the lacy summer dress she'd picked out was "white" enough
for the black studs who were going to bust her tight white
pussy open and pop her cherry.
"You look so cute ..." Angela gushed enviously, suddenly
self-conscious about her won outfit. She had done her
best to dress "black", wanting to prove to Cornell and his
homeys that she was no Oreo anymore. Tight black jeans,
a cut off white T-shirt that exposed her hard, black belly and high-
lighted her firm, perky, braless A-cups. In the confines of the
sheer white cloth, the curves of her thin ebony body were clearly
visible, and her dark aureoli stood out like ripe black cherries.
Her face was painted, too, just like Taniqua's -- lip gloss,
bright red lipstick, and dark highlighting around her blazing
white eyeballs.
"You look so hot, too ..." Topanga cooed. "You look like
real black ho. I hope Cornell lets me dress up like that after
I prove myself. I'd like to dress like a real ho. I'm sick of
this little white schoolgirl look. You look so slutty ..." she
hugged her friend, and they headed to the door.
"And where do you think you're going young lady," Topanga's
aunt asked, appearing at the kitchen doorway. "It's a school night."
"We're going to a party," Topanga answered matter-of-factly.
"Where are Cory and Shawn?" her aunt quizzed.
"We dumped those losers," Topanga shot back. "We only
date black guys now with big black dicks."
"What!" her aunt did a spit take when she heard Topanga
use such language.
"You heard me," Topanga nodded. "I got face fucked by this
big black stud named Cornell today in the girls restroom, and he's
going to let me get gangbanged by all his homey friends tonight, so
I can prove I'm down with him. Then he's gonna brand me, and I'll
be his white-cunt whore then!" She opened the door. "Oh, yeah,
bye. I'll be late, so don't wait up."
As her aunt watched in utter bewilderment, Topanga and Angela
vanished into the night.


"So the bitches be fly then?" D-Taz asked as he took a long
drag on the herb the group was sharing.
"Fly ain't de word for dese cunts, brother," Cornell said
proudly. "Dese be some a'da finest lookeen bitches joo niggahz
ever lay jo sorry eyes on."
"Word!" Stabz bounced his head up and down and smiled
at Cornell. "You better n'be playin' us, homes ..."
"Ain' nobody playin' wid joo, cuz," Cornell cut him off. "Man
don' play wid his peeps when dere's pussy involved. 'Specially
no puss-ee likee dis puss-ee. Joo gotta see dis here Topangy
cunt. She be like the finest white bitch on dis here planet, like
some cunt on a TV show or somethin', know what I mean ..."
"What the fuck kinda name is Topangy anyway?" Rockz asked.
"Make her sound like a monkey or something, a Topangy-tang, or
some shit ..."
The gang chortled at that one, and slapped some skin while
grew even more defensive. "Joo just wait til joo see dis here bitch,
homes. Then w'll see who's talkin' 'bout no monkey shit and shit.
Dis little cunt make jo dick so hard it come right outta dose raggedy-
ass jeans jo wearin'."
"Don' be making fun a'da thredz, Du-Cee," Rockz challenged
Cornell by using his gang name. "Ain' no bad as dat nappy shit you
got on ..."
"So what's her friend like?" Simpleminz piped up. "You say
she gonna bring over some black bitch for us to fuck. Ain' no
nothin' humpin' some black tang, homes. I's can do me dat
up in the projex fo' a tween, I wanna bag me some black pussy.
No game there ..."
"Word!" Stabz agreed with his homey. "Was'sup wid dat,
Du-Cee? Why you be bringing 'round some skanky niggar
bitch? my dick don' like no dark meat, y'understan' ..?"
"Ain' no nigger bitch like be in the projex, d'joo see ..?"
Cornell was getting pissed. "She like some kin'a' Oreo or
somethin', whiter than white. She ain' never seen no niggah
dick befo', an' she c'rtnly ain' no skanky-ass strawberry likes
joo fuck, Stabz. Joo gonna hab sum fun wid her, I tells joo,
jus' you wait. Du-Cee gonna do joo all right.
*Where is dem hos?* Cornell fumed to himself. *Said dey'd
be here at seven. Should have driven down there my own self
like I originally planned, but then that fucking Taniqua gotta go
and pull that shit today with those two Cream boys. Some funny
fucking shit, though, creamy worm-dicks sucking each other
off infront of the whole fucking school. Some funny fucking shit
that is. Now where is dem hos ...* He got up and went to the door,
peering into the darkness. *I teach her to be late and make me look
stupid in front of my peeps. I teach her real good tonight ...*
Suddenly car lights swept over the tenement's back parking lot,
filtering into the basement where Cornell and his ten homeys sat.
As voices began unloading out of the car, he realized it wasn't
Topanga and the Oreo but his psycho sister and her four of her
friends. They were gang girls, and they were entitled to come
such ceremonies if they didn't cause any trouble. They were all
going out with various gang members, and this was there chance to
cheer their men on. Cornell looked back at the pot of money in the
center of the table. There must have been five grand in there, all
waiting for the winner, the first nigger to make the white cunt
cum. This was a particularly difficult challenge when a virgin
cunt was involved, because combined with the ordinary pain
accompanying a popped cherry the brutality of the situation
often meant that even with willing bitches like Topangy the experi-
ence was more like rape than anything. She was a hot little white
cunt, though, with a body built for banging, and Cornell had no
trouble believing she would be the monster lay of the century.
"Dey ain' here yet?" Taniqua burst through the door followed
by the Lady K. The gang was called Killerz, and the gang bitches
the Lady Ks. Although the youngest Lady K, Taniqua was definitely
their leader. In the neighborhood, Taniqua was more feared than
any of the Killerz, and it was her psychotic brutality that had
led the group to infamy. "Was'sup, bro?" she asked Cornell.
"Thought you said jo white ho and her Oreo friend gonna be here.
Brought my girls over just to see them suburb chicks get their
asses raped by some big black cock. Even brought me my video
cam'ra, bro .." she waved the hand-held camcorder in his face.
"I wanna film me those bitches gettin' drilled up the butt, mouth
and pussy. Gonna show me that bad boy all round school."
"Dey be here soon 'nuf .." Cornell looked out the window and
his heart leaped when he saw another set of lights sweep over the lot.
The car parked and Topanga and the Oreo got out. "Down here,
hos!" Cornell called through the open window.
Topanga waved a stupid white girl wave and she and Angela
negotiated there way through the dark to the doorway that led
down into the tenement's basement. When they finally appeared
full light, all the voices in the room ground to a halt. The Killers
and Lady Ks were stupefied at the whipped-cream sweetness of
Topanga's body squeezed into a tight, lacy summer dress. Angela
made her share of dicks hard, too, as she strutted awkwardly into
the room dressed like a suburban chick trying to look *tramp.*
"Oh, we gonna have us some fun t'nite," Stabz hooted. "We gonna
fuck us some nice tight suburban schoolgirl pussy t'nite, ain' dat
right ..?" he asked the gang, to which all the homies shouted
there approval and slapped some skin with each other.
"Get jo asses in de center a'da room, hos," Cornell needed to
take charge immediately before anyone forgot who's hos these
were. "Come on, bitches," he snapped, slapping Topanga hard
on the ass while the gang cracked up. "Joo makin' us wait half-
hour and shit. Was'sup wid dat, anyway. Where joo been, makin'
me look like a chump here front of my peeps .." he lifted Topanga's
tiny body off the floor and threw her over his massive shoulders.
Carrying her like a sack of white-trash he spanked her ass through her
lacy white dress as her pussy frothed over with the abusive handling.
"I'm sorry, Cornell .." she wailed as he spanked her ass
"I'm sorry CORNELL ..." the Killerz and lady Ks mocked both
the white schoolgirl bitch and her use of Du-Cee's given name.
"Stupid fucking bitch," he redoubled his blows on her ass, and
the dampness from her pantieless pussy now bled through to the
back of her dress as the huge black God whacked her again and again
in a ruthless flurry of blows she thought may never end. "Joo don'
call me dat. Joo don' never call me dat! My name is Du-Cee, joo got
"Yes," she bawled at the top of her lungs, barely audible above
loud cracks flailing against her tender white ass.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Du-Cee!"
"Joo know, I got no fucking idee why I's even bodder wid joo,
he cursed her as he threw on the floor in the center of the room.
Behind Topanga, Angela was being herded into the same spot by the
Lady Ks. Taniqua had her blade drawn and was dancing it lightly across
the bumps of Angela's tits. The threat of danger had made Angela's
begin to betray her, her black cherry nipples now jutted against the
cotton of her T-shirt. "Lookee here, .." Taniqua cackled. "Liitle
Oreo is freaky little cunt. Nips all hard and shit when I'm sticking
her with my blade and shit. Zat it, Oreo. Joo like pain, Oreo. You
gonna be our little freaky Whore-ee-O ..."
"Don't hurt me," Angela blubbered like a baby. "Please, I just
want to be your friend. Please, I'll do anything. Just let me your
"How 'bout it?" Taniqua addressed her fellow Lady Ks. "You
wanna let the Whore-ee-O be our friend?"
"I wanna see her lick out that stuck-up white cunt's pussy,"
Deewanna chortled. "Then I wanna see her crawl her 'round the
floor eatin all our pussies and sucking their big black dicks. Then
I wanna take my strap-on and fuck her up the ass while someone
choke fucks her snotty little Oreo mouth with a big black cock.
That's what I want. Don' need no friends, Oreo; just want me
a little whore-ee-o fuck toy, that's what I want ..."
"Anybody who wants to be Whore-ee-O's friend raise
your hand!" Taniqua shouted.
Everyone laughed.
"Anybody want Whore-ee-O to be our little disposable fuck
rag, raise your hand!"
Everyone raised their hands, and the jeering began again as
Angela was pushed next to Topanga. Taniqua was there with
her blade, the glinting steel now dancing across both their terrified
faces. She closed in on Topanga, and traced the razor sharp tip
over the All-American beauty's fluttering, tear-filled eyelids.
"H .. h .. hi, Taniqua," Topanga tried to sound as friendly as
"Maybe I poke your eye out, cunt," Taniqua hissed. "Then I
eat it right here in front of you. Then maybe my brother sticks
his 12-inch cock in your empty, bloody eye-hole and fucks
your silly white-cunt brain. How does that sound, cunt?" she
dug the tip into Topanga's eyelids and elicited a trickle of blood.
"You want me to do that?"
"I ... I ..." Topanga was shaking like the proverbial leaf,
nausea hiccuping in her trembling tummy. "I .."
"Suck my tits, bitch," Taniqua now pulled up her T-shirt
and exposed her plump, braless black boobies. "Suck
'em." She pressed the teenager's pretty apple-pie face into
her hot black chest and guided Topanga's gasping mouth over one
of her blistered nipples. "You suck that black tit good,
cunt, or I'll rip your fucking eyes out."
Topanga worked her drooling mouth over the psychotic black
teen's puffy tits and tried her hardest to tease and please the
hot dark flesh. "You," Taniqua was obviously speaking to
Angela now. "You get down here and eat my pussy."
Angela, terrified beyond the scope of her teenage mind to
comprehend, sank zombie-like to the floor and crawled over to
Taniqua's crotch. All around her she heard the sound of zippers
unzipping, and she knew the Killerz were busy extracting
their hard black cocks. As intense as this opening defilement
was, Angela knew Taniqua was merely directing the opening
act. *Why did I ever listen to Topanga? These people are
animals. Oh, Shawn, I'm so sorry ...* She snapped her mind
back to the subject at hand, though, and busily worked down
Taniqua's jeans. The psychotic black beauty was wearing no panties,
and her cunt smelled like she hadn't practiced genital hygiene in
a month. With tears and Taniqua's stench burning her eyes, Angela
sank her shuddering mouth into the black teen's foul pussy.
"Now you be sucking some black pussy, Whore-ee-O," Taniqua
mocked as she ground her hips into Angela's weeping face. "Be
thinkin' your so hot and shit, little miss Oreo, with your white
boyfriends and shit. Gonna go to college, get a nice little house,
and suck little white cocks all your life. Fucking cunt, I'll show
about *black*. I'll make you eat *black.* I'll stuff your snotty
little Whore-ee-O mouth with so much *black* you won't taste
nothin' else the rest of your snotty little life ..." She slapped
Angela in the back of the head to incite her to work harder.
"You get down there now, too," she pushed Topanga down so that
both girls were now kneeling before the psycho black teen's
reeking snatch. "Wanna see you bitches fight over it," she
hissed as she slapped them both in the heads. "Fight over it,
snarl and shit, like a couple of little white puppy bitches in heat.
Whoever makes me cum don't get cut ..."
When both girls felt the blade slice slivers out of their
earlobes, they began to do as Taniqua commanded. Making a snarling
Angela snapped at Topanga's nose and tried to her block her out of
they way. Topanga, not wanting to get cut and ruin her looks for
Cornell, snarled and fought off Angela for a lick at Taniqua's huge,
bulbous clit. *If I can get at her clit for a second, I can make her
cum.* Topanga told herself desperately. *Maybe then she'll like me,
I can make her cum. ...* She dove into the psycho's black pussy and
clamped down on her protruding clit, sucking it like a mad woman
while Angela clawed at her back trying to get some for herself.
"Whooee, lookee dem bitches go at it," Stabz hollered. "Some
freaky cunt-eatin' bitches these are ..."
"I got me $100 on the sistah," Deewanna shot out. "Ain't no
white-trash cunt gonna eat better pussy than a sistah."
"I'll take dat bet," D-Taz announced, and suddenly the whole
erupted in wagers on the pussy eating contest between Topanga
and Angela.
Inspired by the bets exploding around her, Angela felt compelled
to prove triumphant just because she was black and Topanga was
white. The white bitches always got everything, the cute guys, the
money, the popularity. This time it was going to be different. She
was going to win and the white cunt was going to lose ... and get
cut ... cut bad ... and there would be no more All-American, apple-
pie Topanga Lawrence. Angela hurled Topanga's little body
out of the way, and pinned down on the ground beneath her. As
Topanga struggled to free herself, Angela craned her neck out
to reach Taniqua's pussy.
Sadistically, Taniqua kept backing up slightly, hovering
her smelly snatch just tantalizing inches from Angela's thirsty
mouth as the teen tried desperately to get at her meaty clit.
"You want that black cunt, don'tcha, Whore-ee-O," Taniqua
cackled as Angela snorted in frustration. "Tell me you want my
black cunt, Oreo, tell me ..."
"Please let me eat your black cunt ..." Angela wept, "please.
I want to make you cum."
"What are you, cunt?" Taniqua demanded.
"Your Oreo fuck toy," Angela didn't know where the words came
from, but they appeared on her lips anyway, and they felt right.
"Let her eat your pussy already, girl," Deewanna pouted. "I
get that hot little Oreo mouth on my cunt, too."
"You gonna eat out all us Lady Ks, Whore-ee-O?" Taniqua was in
face now, the knife at her quivering throat.
"Yes, please ..." Angela begged, " ... let me eat all your black
and make them cum."
"Okay, Whore-ee-O, here you go," Taniqua stepped up and mashed
her reeking twat into Angela's cunt-thirsty lips. "You eat me out
now, Oreo, or I can turn all mean and shit again. Got me?"
"Mmm hmmm ..." Angela gurgled as she slurped at the sloppy
mess of Taniqua's pussy, strafing the black girl's puffy clit with her
obsessed tongue, then burying that same tongue deep into the recesses
of the psycho's cunt while she worked her mouth in a chewing motion
and gummed the girl's labes and clit. Returning to Taniqua's clit,
she redirected her attack with a loud slurping suck that made the
black teen's gorgeous body tremble in a hot pre-cum quake.
"Oh, you gonna make me cum, Oreo," Taniqua cooed. "You gonna
make my hot, smelly black pussy cum. Suck that clit, cunt, that's it
As Topanga heard Angela work Taniqua closer and closer to a
she became more and more desperate to get at the black bitch's hot
and spare her face from the slashing she knew she would receive for
her negligence, her weakness, her pathetic lily-whiteness. With one
burst of savage strength, she thrust Angela's wiry body off her chest
and scrambled towards her objective. Before she could reach Taniqua's
cunt, however, two strong arms lifted her off the floor and tossed
her like a sack of white-trash onto a smelly, cum-stained mattress.
Five black cocks immediately appeared before her eyes, and they
poked haphazardly at her bawling mouth until a pair of fingers grasped
her mouth, spread her lips and held her still enough for not one, but
huge black dorks to ram down her gasping throat. This was no face
fuck like Cornell had given her. This was throat rape plain and
Neither cock cared about whether she was breathing or not. They just
drilled into her tonsils while she groped for air and spewed vomit and
spittle through her perky, upturned nose. "UUUUUGGGHHHLLLDDD"
her muffled screeches elicited a hearty chorus of laughter and high
five from the Killerz. More dicks crowded her face, blocking out
her vision like a dark, angry cloud of terror.
With two cocks buried in her throat, she felt her brain buzz with
oxygen deprivation, and her body writhing in violent spasms. Then,
mercifully, one of the pricks blasted off deep into the recesses of
trembling tummy. That cock was quickly replaced, however, and as
her stretched-out mouth groaned in agony her throat was raped and
re-raped by a succession of iron-hard, ruthless black cocks that
bigger with each and every successive invasion. Only when the last
fired its load of cum across her ravaged face, did she realize her
had been torn to tatters.
"Need to do somethin' 'bout these nips o' yours," Cornell was
suddenly in her face brandishing a box of metal clips. Opening
the jaws of one he pinched it painfully on erect nipples and tugged
HARD! "Dey ain't big 'nuff, ho. Gotta make de nips bigger ..."
More clips clamped painfully down on her tender tit meat as she
howled in utter agony. "That's it, Topangy, scream for us. Make
our black cocks even harder, ho ... hear some little white schoolgirl
cunt scream make us hard .."
Her entire upper torso covered with sharp metal clamps, Topanga
had been taken far beyond the threshold of pain her tender young
teenage could withstand. She was gibbering like a madwoman now,
her body twitching in convulsions that could only be described as
"Time to bust that cherry cunt wide open," Cornell snickered as
he lowered himself on his back and Topanga found her spastic body
being raised up by two sets of strong black arms. While she twitched
foamed at the mouth like a retarded schizophrenic, she was lowered
Cornell's enraged tool until her tight, virgin cunt lips kissed the
enormous warhead of the inhuman black missile. "Qwuugghhhnn!" she
blathered as she felt herself impaled on the massive black flesh
It's enormity ripped apart the soft, tender walls of her virgin cunt,
and she could feel blood mix in with the pussy juice that flooded her
pillaged twat.
With one savage stroke, Cornell ripped his entire 12-inches up
into her guts, and she swore she could feel his warhead slamming
up against the bottom of her lungs. "That's it, ho, ride me, ho," he
encouraged her as her involuntarily spasms bobbed her up and down
on the gruesome pole. Then a cock was in her mouth again, and she
saw the gang getting in line again for another turn. Her head rolled
as she rode the fuck storm tearing open her belly, and she felt a warm
stream of water bathing her thirsty lips, and she sucked at the
drinking it in until she opened her eyes and saw that one of the gang
members was pissing into her face while his homeys egged him on.
"Drink the piss, ho," Cornell snapped at her as he humped her
up and down on his dick like a rag doll. "When the Killerz piss on
joo, a ho drink it up like it's champagne. Joo got me ..?"
"Y..y..y..yes," she stammered through her chattering teeth.
Then one of Cornell's homeys thrust his ass in her face and blew
a hot wet fart over contorted features. She instinctively licked his
shit-smeared asshole and felt his sphincter grunt out a thick
log of hard. dark shit into her polluted mouth. Cornell's thrust
sent her face hurdling into the Killlerz' asshole and she couldn't
help but get a mouthful of his shit. Cornell was suddenly shoving
her tiny body off his gargantuan tool and grabbing her by the hair.
Tilting her head back, he hissed: "Smile, ho, you remember how I
like it."
Her mouth, stretched out by the repeated throat throttling and
double dicking, could barely form a smile, but she struggled to
obey the terrible Black God's edict and spread her drool covered
lips over her shit-stained, white teeth. She anxiously waited as
she tried to hold the face-pose and Cornell rubbed his cock-head
across her teeth. "Fucking worthless white-trash whore ..." he
cursed when he finally spewed into her eyes, rubbing his dick
across her slick eyeballs and then firing the final volley into
her right ear.
Before she could even catch her breath, another cock stabbed
into her defiled pussy as she was forced into the doggie position.
"Now you fuck her white ass good, Rockz!" Topanga heard one of the
Lady Ks holler as the man in her pussy slammed into her ass-
cheeks so hard he drove her off the mattress in a succession of
thrusts. "Rockz'll fuck her white cunt good," the Lady K continued
to holler. "He'll make that bitch cum." She was now in Topanga's
face. "How you like that big cock in yo ass, bitch. That's my man,
Rockz. He gonna fuck you up good, fuck you til you cum. Then that
pile of money over there gonna be ours. First guy make you cum, gonna
get that money. That was your boyfriend Cornell's idea. Put a
out on your cunt. Now my man here's gonna tear that little cum out of
your dumb white cunt. Fuck her, Rockz. Come on, she ain't nothin'
but some white-trash cunt. Make her cum, baby. I want that money,
I want that fucking money." She turned back to Topanga. "I said
I wanted that money, cunt. Now you cum right now for my man here,
or I'll mess you seriously up."
" ..." Topanga blubbered, her raw pussy
to bleed profusely with only her second invasion. The pain was so
great in her body that she couldn't even think of cumming. As limp
as a wet noodle, her body just rode Rockz's fuck fury until he finally
pulled out and squirted in her face."
"Fucking cunt," the Lady K spit in Topanga's face before another
cock replaced Rockz.
"Go get that cunt, D-Taz, " another Lady K. cheered. "Do her all
and nasty and shit. Coax that cum out of her tight white pussy. Show
her what your black cock is all about ..."
Topanga shuddered as she felt D-Taz twist and turn his dick
inside her
ravaged pussy, bumping up against the few pleasure-sending nerve-
endings still undamaged by Cornell's and Rockz's brutal assaults.
was riding her cunt like a prize stud, reaching down and playing with
her clit as he plumbed her depths with a cock that must have been at
least ten-inches. She felt her pussy constrict involuntarily,
itself and re-lubricating as D-Taz took her from abject agony to a
vaguely pleasant ache that trembled in her tummy.
"You're doing it, baby," his Lady K fan cheered. "Look at her
back to get at'cher cock. Look at her chase that fuck, baby. You
make her cum ..."
"Fuck!" D-Taz howled in despair as he suddenly lost control of
dick inside her constricting cunt and fired his hot load inside her.
I was close ... so fucking close ... I could feel her, man," he
slapped her
ass hard and stepped aside.
"That's my man, Stabz," another Lady K. hooted. "Stabz'll fuck
her white cunt up ..."
Stabz began where D-Taz left off, obviously exchanging sheer
brutality for a shot at Cornell's bounty. He bent over her and licked
her ear as he stroked in and out of her now liquid pussy with a
catlike rhythm. "Gonna make that teenage pussy cim, bitch," he hissed
in her ear as he slid in and out. "You can't fight it, cunt. This
cock gonna make that little pussy cum. Then you'll know a black
man's fucked your stuck-up, white cunt. Gonna tell all your friends
all bout black cock, ain't ya', ho. Gonna tell all your white school-
girl friends, and bring 'em over here, and atch us rape their white
til they cum, too. Just like you're gonna cum, ho. Just like I'm
make you cum ..."
"Yes ...." Topanga wept as Stabz coaxed and cajoled her wasted
back to life, back to pleasure, back to that night at the slumber
when she saw that porno movie and sat among all the other girls and
played with her pussy like a bad girl ... such a bad girl ... that's
what she
was ... Topanga Lawrence the little bad girl who jacks off her pussy
on little pink princess bed ... Topanga Lawrence who sucks off a
black cock in the girls restroom ... Topanga Lawrence who now looks
to where Angela is being ass fucked and pussy fucked by two sadistic
Killerz while she snorkels another huge black dong down her gurgling
throat. "Yes!!!!!!!!!!" Topanga felt the cumquake she'd been chasing
begin to well up inside and flood her entire universe with a lightning
storm of heat, electricity and moisture. She felt her spine turn as
as her cunt, and her whole body begin undulating in waves that
corresponded exactly with the pounding in her ears ...
"Fucking bitch!" Stabz thrust his whole ten-inches into her
convulsing being and fired off his load as she came around his
black godhood, milking each and every inch with her velvety, viselike
"I told you my man Stabz would do it," the Lady K was jumping
up and down and throwing the pile of bills in the air. "Fucked that
white teenage cunt good."
Another cock, infuriated that it had been denied the bounty on
pussy cum, now jabbed at her un-lubed asshole and skewered her
shit chute while all she could do is shriek at the top of her lungs.
"C'mon, ho, you can take it," she heard Cornell hoot as the gang-
stah wrenched her tight, cherry asshole even wider apart so he could
cramm even more of his inhuman girth down her dry, tender shit
pipe. "Shove that big black dick up dat white hos stuck-up ass,"
she heard a Lady K shout as the gang girls started cheering their
men on again. Now that the contest was over, the only remaining
objective was for the gangstahs in the room to take out all their
hatred of white cunts on the dazzling, defiled specimen crouched on
all fours at their feet.
The huge cock stuffed in her dry, unprepared ass blasted her
bowels into a sputtering chasm of agony. Her sphincter muscles
torn to shreds with the jungle god's first three thrusts, her own
loose turds began to stream down her once pristine, perfect ass. More
cocks in her mouth again, and she was thrown over on her side
so another cock could enter her sloppy snatch. Then another
cock forced its way into her once-tight cunt, and she had two
cocks in her pussy and one in her ass. Adjusting her body to
the contorted dimensions of the invasion, she did her best to
ride her assault to another orgasm, and another, and another,
and another ....
*Topanga Lawrence has gone black!* she laughed to herself as she
recalled the image of Cory sucking off Shawn till the white worm-dick
spewed in Cory's faggot mouth. *And she's never going back!*


Shawn Hunter gripped his cock in his hands and rewound the video
tape back to the beginning. It was the four-thousandth he'd watched
it, and he never got tired of it. Watching Angela and Topanga
and defiled by that big-dicked, black gang was something he could
view over again. Before he could hit the play button, though, he
heard the door to his room open. He looked up to see Cory sidle
in and close the door behind him. The two smiled at each other
and Cory flopped down on the bed next to his most special friend.
"Did you start it yet?" Cory asked as he reached over and grasped
Shawn's five-inch dick. "I want to see those big black cocks again."
"Is that all you think of , Cor?" Shawn whined. "Big black
cocks. You're starting to sound like Topanga."
Cory smiled, lowered his mouth on Shawn's dick, and dreamed.

The End


Back 1 page

Submit stories to: [email protected](dot)com
with the title heading "TSSA Story Submission"