Thugged Up The Ass

Somebody brought some porno mags to the school bus stop on Wednesday morning.

The magazines were pretty hard core and they featured fully mature women getting fucked in various positions by big black dudes and some Latin studs. One was called "THUG" and had a group of very muscular, young black guys on the cover standing around a lady who looked like she could have been their school teacher. As Trenton and Darrel fumbled around with the pages, I glanced down at another one of the magazines and noticed that a couple of page segments featured a transgender 'woman' getting manhandled by these young ruffians. The lady had a cute face and nice tits but was also sporting a big, uncut cock.

I have to admit, I was getting a bit turned on by that one. Leave it to me to be turned on by some 'beyond-the-pale', freaky shit.

I didn't want my friends to see me looking at 'homo' photo spread, so I quickly turned away from it and let my thoughts drift as I waited for the bus.

After we all boarded the ride to school, I scrambled for the empty seat nearest to my BFF Trent and this older kid Darrel.

We all started chattering like a bunch of girls in a sewing circle.

"So, you know that one street downtown?" Trenton asked.

"Which street?" I asked.

"The street where all the black people hang out..."

"Oh yeah, yeah" I realized. "That's Martin Luther King Boulevard' I explained.

"Okay, so my older brother is doing an installation for the heating and air unit there. He started hanging out with the owners and his son because he knew Blaine from Junior Varsity Football a few years ago or some such shit." He continued.

"It's kinda rough down there in that part of town" I remarked."Last month that white kid from out of town, got mugged, sexually assaulted and carjacked" I said.

"Well Blaine and his homey must get a pass 'cuz they're down there everyday...Even on Saturday and Sunday" Said Trent.

"

"Blaine must be getting some pussy down there because I found a bunch of panties and fishnet stockings stashed in his bathroom hamper" Trent said.

'There's even a duffel bag with some dildos in it under his bed!", He added chuckling.

"Maybe him and his buddy are using 'em on each other!" I joked.

And while Trent and I thought that was funny, Darrel looked at us with a half smile on his face, like he knew something we didn't. I wonder sometimes if we are the only two teenagers that aren't told the whole story...I always feel like everybody else knows stuff that we don't.

"So my brother's been getting home hella late, smelling like weed and beer. Then he get's up for work at like 4am. He showed me these yesterday and told me how he got them but he doesn't know I brought them to school today" He quieted his voice to a whisper as if his sibling were somehow listening.

I grabbed one of the magazines and leafed through it, half hoping it was the "gay" one with the transgender girl in it. I carefully looked at each photo set with equal scrutiny, as I didn't want to appear 'eager' to find that section where the girl with a dick is getting banged.

The pictures and accompanying text all were getting me horny. All of the themes were about young, hardened, black men and teenaged boys, rough-fucking helpless, yet willing, white women with their powerful cocks. I liked that the females were hesitant at first, then by the end of the pictorial, they were opening their legs wide with their heels up, backs arched, letting these hoodlum looking dudes pound away at their wet, wide opened pussies. While seeing white ladies get satisfied by big, black cock was a turn on, I was still rather interested in the portion of the magazine that showed trans and gay men getting used by blacks.

I was about half way in to the magazine when I found the photo set. It was SO fascinating to me that a hot, sexy woman could have amazing tits, feminine hips yet sport a big, meaty prick and a set of giant "bedroom nuts" that looked full of cum. I perused the section and my dick grew semi erect. The vibration of the old, rickety school bus caused my ass to clench and release, making my cock grow even more hard as we traveled the road to school.

By the time we got to the parking lot at our school drop-off point, my cock was so erect, I couldn't hide it any other way than to hold my backpack in front of me. I stashed the magazine in my book pack and nobody said anything about it, so I assumed nobody cared and that I could keep it....

As I made my way to class, one of my friends came running up to me, and as a joke, he snatched my backpack out of my hands. Suddenly, there I was in front of hundreds of people with my loose, linen pants tenting obcsenely from my pubic mound. Some girls cat called and whistled while other kids just looked at me, embarrassed by my aroused state. I quickly snatched my book bag back from him and walked quietly to class. By lunch time, there was a rumor going around that I had a 10-inch cock and that I whipped it out in the school commons that morning. Haaaa! High school! But whatever,,,Good rumor to have about oneself...I'll take it.

I kept the magazine all week and would randomly take it out and jack off to the tranny sex part. I noticed that the "gay-sex" part that I masturbated with, got me hornier and harder than the other sections did. I could also beat-off more than twice in one evening. It was like the freakier the sex was, the more it drove me to reach an aroused state. It was also easier to come, like my body was responding to the gay shit MORE than regular porn. I didn't think too much about it but it would soon become a dfriving forcre in my sexual development.

After hearing about the sex shop on Matin Luther King Boulevard and all the cool things that went on there, me and Trent wanted to go to the adult arcade and watch the porn there. Blaine, Trents older brother, said there were women who went there looking for horny dudes to fuck. He even said there were "glory-holes", sex parties and live sex shows that happened every Friday/Saturday there. After learning what a "Glory-Hole" was, we were awe struck and more than a little intrigued. We vowed that we'd get ourselves to the place and experience the magical things we'd only heard about from the older boys who often went there .

I'd just gotten my driver license and my dads old '72 Chevy Super Sport to drive so we made plans to day-trip to that part of town about 18 miles from our neighborhood on Saturday afternoon. My parents let me drive on the weekends but still made me take the school bus because having that car was too much of an incentive to cut class and take off on school days. They were right, so I didn't argue too much. But once Saturday rolled around, I was out!

Trent and I talked excitedly during the week leading up to our outing to the adult sex shop. I "borrowed" his brother old ID card so we could get in while Trent had his sisters boyfriends old ID. We talked about what to bring and how we'd dress. What we wanted to do with the ladies we'd meet there and how we'd like to get our dicks sucked in a Glory-Hole.

On Friday night, Trent's mom broke the bad news to him that he'd be accompanying his Dad to the RV show at the county fair grounds to help pick out the features of their soon to be Winnabago. Looks like I'd be riding solo on Saturday's visit to the adult book store.

When I got home on Friday I excitedly tried on a few different combinations of clothing. Jeans were too cumbersome if I wanted to have sex with a girl at the adult store. Conversely, Bermuda shorts were too 'touristy'. I eventually tried on my dads old grey sweat shorts from his high school days. They looked cool....a bit short, but cool. Easy to pull down if I wanted and cool enough not to make me look like a dork. I put on my old jock-strap from football try-outs and donned an AC/DC concert shirt. I looked casual and incognito....I looked cool. The sweats had pockets and I could wear them anywhere, so I settled on that.

The next morning I was up and out the door by 9am. I drove downtown straight away and had to kill some time so I went to my dealers house and bought some crank and a bit of weed.

By noon, I'd gotten myself to the hood and found the adult arcade that held so much sexual promise. I was giddy with anticipation as I looked for a place to park the Chevy.

As it turned out, I had to park about a block away and a street over so I had to walk about a quarter mile to the sex shop. After about a 5 minute walk, I was within sight of the arcade on MLK Blvd. There was a small crowd of men standing outside. I could see cigarette smoke rise from within the group and could see that they were all between 18 and thirty years old and every single one of them was a hardened, tough-as-nails, black thug.

The "cool" looking outfit I'd chosen suddenly seemed ridiculous. The short,frayed denim cutoffs were so short that my ass cheeks were hanging out and the straps of my black jockstrap could be seen framing my round, white ass-bubbles just below the pocket areas. My heavy junk nearly spilled out the side of the jockstraps pouch and I had to keep adjusting myself lest my cock and balls flop out in front of the whole neighborhood.

Now, as I approached the menacing looking black guys that had gathered near the shops entrance, I felt foolish and embarrassed at my choice of clothing. My attempts to dress provacatively for any females I might encounter, only served to make me appear more feminine than anything else. I suddenly realized that I was dressed like a slutty teenaged girl! Embarrassment and shame coursed through me. The reality of where I was and what I looked like took me by surprise and I nearly panicked. I wanted to turn tail and get out of there, to run, not walk, back to my car. It was too late. One of them spotted me as I came up the sidewalk toward the entrance to the place. One by one, they each turned their attention toward me. Their boyish demeanor changed to one of confrontational amusement as they became aware of my approach. A couple of them smiled and said something under their breath to the guy next to him.

When I was close enough to see their expressions, it worried me that they were all smiling knowingly and eyeballing my scantily clad form. If I turned around now, it would be too obvious that I was scared. Like sharks, circling prey, these apex predator, young males would 'smell blood' and I feared a feeding-frenzy would ensue. This was a bad part of town and white boys like me shouldn't be here, especially at night, dressed like this!

Right as I as I made the decision to abandon my idea and just leave, the smell hit me.

It's hard to explain the control that aroma has over me. Just trying to convey the essence of that aroma is so difficult. It's hard to describe... It smells like every sweet, memorable experience on a Summer evening filled with fireworks, carnivals, cigarette smoke, cotton candy, and hydraulic fluid floating on a layer of testosterone, faint weed, grease fried sugary essence on top of your uncles cologne mixed with every male scent ever experienced by women. Body odor combined with soap and aftershave. Faint tabacco and fresh marijuana smells combined with rich candy and brown sugar. The wild scent of Humanity combined with the gritty smell of the street. The theater of civilization mixed with the primal, needful things that we cannot deny ourselves. Things like food, air, water.....and sex. Sex in all its forms and with all that is given life by wanting it, needing it and seeking it.

I was a bit distracted by it all as I arrived at the sex arcades entrance.

Three big, black guys stepped aside and allowed me through as they all mumbled things about me under their breath.

"...be out yo' damn mind lookin sexy like dat...." and

"...who lookin' after you down here boy?.. Or

"..with sweet white azzzz like dat....."

I could hear only snippets of each statement, but it was enough to know I'd found trouble here on Martin Luther King Boulevard.

A huge, heavily muscled, very dark, black man stood squarely in front of the door. I'd need to get past him if I were to enter the place. I stopped in front of him as he eyeballed me up and down with a look of amused disgust and sly knowing, like he deals with people like me all the time and has heard every excuse already.

"You got I.D?" His voice was even deeper than the black of his skin.

"Uhhh, y-yeah, here ya go", I handed him the expired license of Darrels older brother who, aside from having the same color hair, looked nothing like me.

I watched the doormans face as he studied the card. It looked so tiny in his massive hands,like a giant holding a postage stamp.

I could feel the stares of the group of black thugs behind me. A couple of them jeered and cat called. Suddenly, one of the guys popped out of the group, lunging at me playfully. It looked like he was trying to kiss my cheek.

"Somebody gonna go up in you wit' an azz like that! Whiteboy!" He hissed as he assailed me.

I could smell alcohol on his breath and I pulled away slightly. I was relieved when a couple of his buddies pulled him back away from me laughing and scoffing at his broodish behavior. The big doorman chuckled softly under his breath as he handed the fake I.D. back to me. He stood aside and opened the door for me, allowing me to pass into the place. He leaned closer to me as I edged past him so that he was right up next to me. Then, he whispered an omninous warning;

"Be careful in here whiteboy".

I paused, turning to look him in the eye. He looked serious and I could see that he meant what he said. I nodded with a look that said 'I would be careful' and stepped into my first adult video arcade.

It was much bigger than it looked from the outside. About the size of a restraunt. There were tall wooden counters on both sides of the shop, the counter on the left being set further back from the door. Row upon row of books, magazines, DVD's and sex toys lined the store. There were two security guys watching the patrons and there were mirrors and cameras survielling everything on the floor area. The place had a certain aroma. It wasn't repulsive, but neither was it pleasant. Again, confronted by the scent of things around me, I found myself drawn in to further explore the place. Absent the allure of the smells, I would never venture there....But there was definitely a marked distinction in the smell of certain places. This place smelled of faint tobacco, newsprint, testosterone, cheap, musky aftershave, piss and old leather. It tickled my imagination and sent me further into my adventure. There were men standing around browsing the wares and occassionally eying one another nervously. Two older men were behind the counter playing dominos and a third manned the cash register as he read the sports section. He had an unlit cigar in his mouth. Another couple of guys stood near the book stands, reading or thumbing through various types of pornographic magazines and periodicals. The younger man behind the second counter eyed me suspiciously then went back to his paperwork.

The sound of porn videos emanated from the rear of the shop where one could find a double row of tiny private rooms the size of a closet. Each room was fitted with a TV screen that had selector buttons above it. Each coin operated button turned the channel so viewers could watch whatever type of porn they wanted, in private. I let my eyes adjust and I could see that all 26 booths were occupied. A red light/green light system indicated which rooms were being used and which were open. The doors squealed loudly when they were opened or shut but nobody seemed to care who entered or exited or where anybody came or went. I thought it would be less conspicuous, yet more personal. More catered for a newby like myself. I watched a couple of the guys cruising the video booths and saw that they would occassionally dip out of one booth and then quickly go into another. The rough looking guys I'd seen outside, were slowly starting to filter into the shop. Everybody in here was black, except me.

I strolled the aisle, perusing the porn magazines and movie rentals. I learned that the subject matter was sectioned by catagory and type of porn that could be found on any given display shelf. Most of the straight porn was interracial and there were a lot of big, muscled, well endowed, black guys with mature white women. Most showed the woman impaled on massive slabs of erect cock meat, creaming and appearing in the throes of orgasm under the black assault of their pussies. Being surrounded by all that sex and smut was making me hot.

As I passed one area, I noticed that the magazines in that section featured trans-gendered women getting assfucked by big black dicks. Some of them were dripping ejaculate while getting buttfucked. THAT seemed really sexy to me and I paused there, picking up a magazine and thumbing through it while keeping an eye out for any other shoppers who may see what I was looking at. I turned each page, finding even hotter photos in each pose and getting more excited by the sex acts depicted in those books. I continued to watch for any men passing by me who may see what I was looking at. I'd be wholly embarrassed if anybody caught me looking at gay stuff.

My young, easily aroused prick was slowly getting bigger and more erect as I turned each page. I had to stand with my thighs crossed to contain my hardening meat. It felt cool at the tip and I knew I was drooling a bit of pre-cum. The clear, sticky droplet seeped out and stuck to my thigh.

I had gotten distracted by the graphic pictorial and was becoming oblivious to anything around me, when suddenly, I felt a hand grip my left asscheek and peel it roughly aside. I gasped and nearly jumped out of my skin as one big, warm hand locked over my pale, smooth, bubble globe. I quickly looked around for the source of this groping. The fingers of the hand found my crevice and brushed intrusively at it as it pulled on my creamy, muscled ass-cheek. I immediately figured out that the hand belonged to the same guy who tried kissing my face on my way in. The same guy who said "Somebody gonna fuck themselves up inside you with an azzz like dat". He had stood at the endcap of the aisle and came up behind me while remaining partially hidden, then got a hold of my ass. He continued to hang on to my left booty melon, sinking his fingers even deeper into my flesh. His index and middle finger had found my asshole and he pulled violently on it. I grunted and tried to pull away but the muscular stud was too strong for a smallish high school kid like me to prevail. I looked up at him and he was smiling as he tried pulling me in to him.

"Dude! What tha fuck Bro!?" I was relatively quiet about it but was seriously baffled as to WHY he was gripping my left ass-melon with his figertips almost up my rectum.

"Dude! What tha fuck?!? Let go of me man!" I raised my volume a bit.

Now I was a bit off balance as he manipulated my position, pushing and pulling me off kilter as I tried to walk away.

"You got a real nice little booty here, boi!" He hissed, pulling me in. His other hand found my right ass melon and took a hold of it with an even firmer grip. I winced in surprised discomfort and was immediately pulled to my tippy toes and as a result, I stumbled right into his arms. He smelled of under arm odor and soap. I could also smell beer on his breath and I figured out that he was pretty buzzed.

"Dude! Let go of me!" I yelled, my backside being peeled apart roughly. "Owww f-fuuuck! That fucking hurts dude!" I yelled louder.

"You KNOW you aint leavin' here without getting that butthole filled with dis' here babymaker!" He slurred.

I could feel the hardness of his erect shaft pressing against my own bulging package.

"Huh?!? Dude...NO!" I countered. "I-I'm not g-gay! I like girls! I aint a faggot Bro!" I complained loud enough for all to hear it. There would be no reasoning with him.

His big hands had locked me into his grasp and I must have looked horrified as he tried to lick my neck and to kiss me with his big, wet, puffy lips. My asshole was being pulled open and I felt like I was getting torn apart at the anus. He never let go of his grip on my buttocks and I started to feel violated by his manhandling.

Just when I felt the need to call out for help;

"Leave him be, Dawg!" I heard a deep, authoritative voice boom.

The sound of it filled the whole shop and by now, everyone was looking at us. The drunk dude let go of me immediately and I dropped from his grasp, landing on my feet in front of him. I was thoroughly embarrassed and humiliated.

I looked up and realized that the bouncer/doorman had come into the shop and was sticking up for me in my time of need. He gently escorted the drunk guy out of the magazine section and then out the front door. That was it. Nobody asked me anything or attempted to see if I was okay....everybody just went back to whatever they were doing before the incident like it was a common occurance. I was a bit unnerved by it, but physically I was fine. My butt was a tad sore, but nothing I couldn't shake off.

Embarrassed, but none-the-worse-for-wear, I went about browsing the printed media on the shelves.

I checked out a few more magazines, paying extra attention to ones with transgender sex themes. As I perused the material, I came upon an entire section that featured gay men having hardcore anal sex. An entire display case was dedicated to white men getting fucked by big, muscled black guys. An unfamiliar rush surged through me and caused my chest to tickle.

My cock felt more sensitive than usual and I was suddenly hyper-aware of my butt cheeks hanging out and my denim shorts crawling up my crevice.

I was facsinated by the hard-core man-to-man sex depicted in the magazines. On one cover, with a picture of a mustachioed white guy getting gangbanged by six black dudes, the sub header read; 'Are You A Jack of Spades?' The white guys were all marked with a certain tattoo that had a black Jack with a spade, or some other variation of a Jack of Spades design, like you'd find in a deck of cards. One dude had the tattoo on the small of his back like a tramp-stamp. Another had a small one on his hand. I was intrigued by this tattoo. What was it? Was it a club? A fraternity of white, male, fuck-boys that only liked to be boned by blacks? Was it a requirement for these men and boys? What did they do to earn the mysterious ink?

I looked around to make sure I wasn't being watched before I picked up that particular issue and put a regular porn mag over its cover. I then pretended to read the straight porn mag while thoroughly scanning the gay, interracial magazine. My hands were shaking and my breathing had quickened as I looked at each starkly dirty sex act that the glossy pages offered up. Everything from a dude getting deep throat fucked in his mouth with a caption that read, "White Boi Pussy Just Craves That Big Black Cock-Take the Tattoo!" all the way to big black bulls raping a teenage boy with their massive dicks in a prison setting. I had gotten a boner that was pushing its way down my leg and wouldn't be contained by my jockstrap. It was extremely hard and it began throbbing as I looked at all the pictures of hot men having gay sex. Another photo set began:"It's Natural for White Boys-Fulfill Your Destiny-Be A Jack Of Spades!" followed by pictures of young, smooth white men and boys getting used and violated in the nastiest, most obscene, most perverted ways one could imagine. My cock grew out of the inadequate confines of my skimpy denim shorts as I got more and more turned on. "Be a Sissy for Black Dick" was the header of another section of the magazine. I needed to see more.... I was getting SO excited and my hormones raged inside my teenage body causing me to tremble and quiver like a little girl. My dick drooled heavily now and I felt a drop of precum splash onto my knee.

"Uh-Oh", I thought, "I'm so hot I'm drooling. Maybe I'd better find a booth where I'd have enough privacy to get myself together" I quickly put the magazines back and moved toward the back of the store.

I was growing a bit uncomfortable with the looks and stares I was now getting from various dudes standing around looking at magazines or shopping the sex toys. My asshole still stung from that drunk dude grabbing me. I absent-mindedly reached back to feel my rear-end and discovered that the denim covering the depth of my ass-crevice had been ripped, exposing my entire cleft. If I bent over at all, my bare anus would be entirely exposed. This both worried and excited me.

I'd never thought about my rear-end being the object of sexual desire, but now it seemed like a real possibility. It occurred to me that there were no girls here. I thought maybe they'd get here later this afternoon or something, but I began to doubt the veracity of my expectations. Maybe the "female" patrons that sucked dick through the 'glory-holes', weren't entirely female. I suddenly had the feeling of being a prey animal locked in a cage with predatory creatures... My cock was still erect but realization and mild terror suddenly surged through me...

"Hey Boy!" I jumped at the sound of the mans voice. I froze and braced for what came next. "You need tokens to operate them machines, Son." It was the man behind the counter.

Slightly embarrassed, I breathed a sigh of relief as I went to the counter and handed him a twenty. He gave me two rolls of tokens for the video booths and I quietly thanked him as I slinked back toward the rows of doors. Luckily there was only two of us waiting for a booth and three green lights were on toward the back of the video closets. I hurried into the booth second from the end and locked the rickety door behind me. The cheap slide lock wasn't much and there was a wide gap in the door frame, but at least it was a little bit of shelter.

I sat down on the wooden seat. The cool surface of the bench rubbed my exposed anus and my balls settled flatly from within my torn shorts. My turgid shaft poked out insistently and I reached down to free it from with my stretched jock. I fed some tokens into the coin slot and looked around in the glow of the video screen. There were holes carved out of the walls on either side of me and I could see movement in the booth to my left. Also, a few guys had gathered just outside the door of my video booth and were loitering aimlessly. I felt the cool air upon my heated genitalia and my breath calmed slightly as I took a mental inventory of my situation.

Fuck. What a dumb-ass little punk I was..... I had no idea what I'd walked into. But I was about to find out.

To Be Continued....