I sat in the passenger seat of the patrol car, bewildered as to what my day had turned into. I had always known since I was little that I was a superior white man, better than the dark criminals that populated the region where I lived. Being a cop had allowed me to confirm my authority; until today! Today, when I had been confronted with the superior truth of naked black men, first in that van and then in the park restroom. My throat trained by a group of young black guys while my training officer, Sgt. Booker, watched and instructed. I felt dirty and humiliated, and yet, unbelievably, I had enjoyed being dominated and used by them.
And now, Officer Booker was driving me somewhere to “continue my training.” That is what he had put out on the radio. Not sure, but I imagined it meant me naked and servicing more cocks. I felt my little dick spring to life at the thought.
We had driven to the outskirts of town, into some of the crop areas around the city. We turned down a side road and up to a gate, guarded by a fellow officer. The sign on the gate let me know we were at “the Farm;” basically the larger practice range and small police academy for the city. Since I had transferred in from a few towns over, I had never been here. As we drove up to the collection of buildings, I glanced around. In the parking area sat a mix of trucks and police cruisers. To the far left I saw a group of ten or so young men in cadet outfits – blue shorts and cadet T-shirt – being barked at by an older black drill instructor. They were about evenly split between black and Hispanic men, no whites.
We parked over to the right next to a low building labeled “clubhouse.” Booker got out and I obediently followed him to the building. Inside there was a bar near the entry, and scattered around were a few pool tables, dart boards, etc., and general lounge areas with couches, card tables, TVs, and such. There were plenty of officers already drinking and gaming, enjoying off-duty hours. I guessed there were maybe a dozen officers, all shades of chocolate and brown; I recognized several from my precinct. They eyed me like lions eyeing a gazelle.
Booker grabbed my arm and pulled me over to a slightly darker area in the far corner. There I saw a strange contraption; a vertical frame made of metal pipes, supporting a padded platform about chair height, and a set of boards at the top with semicircles cut out of them. Its use was not clear to me.
“OK Carter, strip and let’s get you locked in.” I just looked at him perplexed. “I SAID STRIP ROOKIE!” Booker barked at me, and my brain went into obedient mode. I quickly stripped naked, careful to fold my uniform properly so it would stay clean. Then I stood there in my black socks and turned back to him.
“Socks too.” A new voice boomed. I looked at the door to see Sgt. Radley striding towards us. At 6’-8” he loomed over the other officers in our precinct, a lithe tower of lean muscle and dark ebony skin. A commanding presence, already a sergeant and not yet 30 years old. My knees went weak imagining what he might be packing in his pants.
I peeled the socks off and balled them on top of the rest of my uniform. Weirdly, the loss of my socks made me feel my nakedness all the more. “Now what sir?”
“Now hop up on the gambrel and let’s get your holes filled!” The Sgt boomed with a hearty laugh. I heard echoes of it from the other men around the room. “I been wantin’ to teach you your place since you transferred in. And your place is on my cock. Now UP!”
I sat on the edge of the device, the padding feeling nice against my naked butt. Briefly. Booker pushed my chest down so my back was on the padding and swung my legs in the air, up into the padded semi-circle holes. Meanwhile, another officer inserted a length of pipe into the side and turned, causing the two boards above to join together and trap my ankles in their padded embrace. Booker then had me insert my hands into leather cuffs at the edge of the frame and pulled those tight-ish as well. Not so that they hurt, but I was definitely not moving them.
“This here gambrel is for fucking white crackers. Ever-so-often we see a young white boy who is going astray, making trouble, heading into the system and such. We bring him here instead, teach himm to respect authority, show him the power of submission to black and brown cock. They straighten up, LOL.” Booker explained.
“Yeah, we’re a regular one-night reform school!” I heard an officer yell out, to the chuckles of the rest of the crowd.
Up to now I had been looking forward, watching Booker secure me. Now he leaned my head back, nestling my neck into a slanted depression so that my head hung back and my throat naturally opened up. Glancing back, I saw Sgt Radley, now naked, striding towards me, swinging a thick slab of ebony meat and low-hanging testicles the size of golf balls. “Is he ready?”
Booker replied “Ain’t no cracker ready for your pole, sir. But he’s secure.”
“Alright Carter, let’s see what you’ve learned so far. Open up.”
I opened wide and the Sgt. Plopped his balls into my mouth. Really just one was all I could manage, but I went to town with my tongue, rolling the nut and breathing the superior aroma that overwhelmed my senses. I started trading the two orbs back and forth, licking like crazy.
“Good tongue action, now let’s see how accommodating that throat-pussy is.” I took a deep breath and he angled his cock into my mouth, taking advantage of my neck position to slide it most of the way in. I could feel its girth filling my throat, cutting off my air. But this wasn’t the Sgt’s first time, and he expertly fucked my throat in varied strokes that alternated between allowing me to gulp in air and straining my consciousness.
After many minutes of this (I had no sense of time), he finally pulled out completely. “Excellent Carter, you are a natural. Now I get Sgt’s privilege to open up that bussy some more.” He smoothly spun around the frame to my waiting hole and entered me in a flash, no preamble or easing in. “Fuck!” I exclaimed. He was thicker than any other BBC I had taken today.
“Shut up and take it, rookie. This is your place now, as a cocksleeve for chocolate dicks. We’re going to make sure that lesson is drilled into you tonight, until it’s all you dream about.” He punctuated his speech with hard thrusts that had me squealing in a mix of pain and pleasure. Even though I was locked into the gambrel, my body still shook with the power of his manly thrusts. He was right, this was the pleasure I never knew I craved, but now needed. By the time I felt his body tense up, I was ready for the deep breeding I was about to receive.
“Oh yeah fellas, this bussy feels amazing! I’m gonna fill him up until he gets pregnant for sure, LOL! Take this load cracker!” The Sgt. bellowed the last bit as he buried himself so deep, I felt his pulses in my chest! I knew this was the first of weekly, maybe daily, doses from him.
I felt his snake slip out and looked up to see Booker hand the Sgt a towel to wipe up the sweat glistened across his ebony body and cock.
“Alright fellas, the rookie pussy is open for business! Let’s get him full of black babies.”
The other officers didn’t need much encouragement; several had already been stroking their cocks watching the Sgt fuck me, so they were ready to slip inside both my waiting holes. First up for my bussy was Palmer, a young cop barely out of being called a rookie himself. He had milk chocolate skin, with a killer smile he flashed me as he teased my hole slowly with the tip of his cock. “Look at you, Carter. Ass up begging to be fucked. Not so high and mighty now, are you? LOL” Suddenly he slammed into me, bottoming out aggressively, then began pounding like he was intending to drill through concrete. I stare up at him, savoring the experience.
I wanted to continue watching him fuck me, but Officer Cooper leaned my head back and fed me his cock. An older officer, he was stocky but muscular, and I could tell by the way he fucked my face that he had years of practice using the mouths of white boys. “Yeah, he’s got a great throat. Bout time we had this cracker learn Service.” I could hear the capitalization when he said it.
I also heard Booker’s reply. “Yeah, he was a harder nut to crack than I thought. I tried a few of the more subtle prods over the past weeks, but he just went more racist, the motherfucker! Stopping that van full of black fraternity cock using those naked white boys was a stroke of luck.” He slapped my chest and pinched my nipple. “Seems our boy here likes the direct approach, following orders!” That got a round of cheers from the waiting officers. My head was too busy taking Cooper’s onslaught to be able to give an assent.
This spit-roasting was a study in opposites. Palmer was making me pay for my racist attitude by railing me with no mercy, pulling out and spearing back in with pent-up sexual aggression. Meanwhile, Cooper just held my head steady and gave me a slow masterful face-fuck as if the rest of my body wasn’t being shaken like a dog toy. I guess the gambrel helped with that.
After ten minutes of this -- my best guess -- the older cop finally decided to pop his load, holding my head like a vise while his cock was lodged all the way down my throat, his juice shooting directly to my stomach. For an older guy, he shot a lot of rounds! I was needing air, and my body spasms transferred to my busy, causing Palmer to bellow with victory as he bred my ass deep. Exhausted, he slumped forward onto my chest. His smiling face inches from mine, he whispered “From now on motherfucker, I’m going to give you so much cock, you’ll be begging me to slut you out to my non-cop buddies.” He stood up and slipped out, slapped my balls for a little extra payback, and shouted “Whoohoo! That’s good white bussy there! Who’s up next?”
“I’ll take his mouth right quick. I just need to get off a load and then head out to coach my son’s Little League practice.” I glanced up to see Officer Valdez swinging a big uncut Latino dick towards me. “No need for the slow burn, Carter, just hoover me down and make me bust. I’ll get some of your sweet ass later this week at the station.” With that he bent my head back into the cradle and positioned himself for a blow job. This would be my first Latino cock, and I was eager to find out if it was as good as BBC. His certainly was big and thick, filling my mouth and stretching my lips around his pole. I went to work slurping and licking, barely stopping when I felt another cock slide into my other hole. I couldn’t see who from this position, but it didn’t really matter; I knew all of these men were going to use one or both of my holes before the day was over.
How I had changed in so short a time. If you had told me yesterday I would be enthusiastically giving my holes to all the men of color in the area, I would have punched you. Hard. Repeatedly.
Yet now I was the eager slut, legs in the air, yearning for musk in my nose and cock to fill me. A part of me was disgusted with myself, the part that had my father’s voice, teaching me about the inferiority of colored. But now I knew the truth.
My spitroasting went on in a timeless state of cock after cock, fuck after fuck. Mostly I didn’t bother to register whose cock was going where, I just concentrated on the pleasure in my ass and the smell and taste of big black cock.
Eventually the party died down, all the cocks had been drained, most had left to go on patrol or home to their wives and girlfriends. But Booker, my training officer, was still there watching over me.
“Well done rookie! Let me get you down for a rest and some fluids.”
He uncranked the gambrel and lowered my legs to the platform. Sitting up, I could feel the cum leaking from my ass and filling my stomach. He handed me a towel and led me to the restroom, where I managed to squirt most of the cum from my used busy. Then I took a long, powerful, and hot shower; massaging my body with the jets and cleaning off the cum drying in various places on my skin. The soap in the clubhouse was lux, a whiskey infused body wash that smelled fantastic. After enough time working the joints under the water, I dried off, wrapped the towel around me, and strode back into the main space feeling back at least a bit like my old self, minus the racist superiority.
Booker was sitting at the bar and motioned me over. He had a bottle of Gatorade and a few grilled cheese sandwiches waiting for me. “Eat up Carter, you’ve had quite the workout.”
“Yes Sir, thank you for the food. And the training.” I wolfed down half a sandwich and took a nice swig from the bottle in a flash, feeling the need to fuel my body. He left to talk to someone over by the door while I continued to motor through the food. Despite my humbling, I was still a young and in-shape rookie cop, so I recovered from the earlier fun quickly.
Hopping up from the bar, I looked around for my clothes. Booker came back and put his arm around my shoulders. “Well Rookie, looks like you’re feeling better again.”
“Yes Sir. Much better.”
“So, I was just chatting with Sgt. Tanner, the drill officer here at the Farm. The cadets live here in the dorm barracks, so they haven’t had any pussy in several weeks. He was wondering if you were up for helping them out? You up for another round of sausages.”
I just looked up at him…
And smiled.
