Issue# 71

“The Uber Driver”

Jason cursed as the app on his phone chirped. Sitting in his car, he had grown bored of
waiting on another client to pick up, that’s when he began looking at porn. Working himself
up, he had already lost track of time when a new pickup appeared.

Close to 2am, this was when several local bars usually let out their drunk customers, and one
of the best times to run extra fairs. Stuffing his leaking cock into his pants, he straightened
up a little before cranking his car and leaving the empty Wal-Mart parking lot, heading across
town to a bar.

Despite the drive Jason’s arousal never waned, his cock still rock hard as he pulled up to the
sidewalk, watching as two people approach his car. Both clearly wasted, he was glad their
payment was automatically handled through the app, since he’d hate to deal with them
trying to pay with cash.

“Oh mah gawd, I jusht want to peel off your pansh and eat your nashty butthole-”

The woman’s slurred speech perked Jason’s ears up immediately, especially as she continued
saying sexual things to her partner. The man who joined her in the backseat seemed less
drunk, but had no problem with her drunken horniness, already fondling her large chest.

“Soon, baby … let’s go back to your place first … “

Realizing where the couple wanted to be taken, Jason’s heart nearly gave out as his cock
flared up. Adjusting his rearview mirror, he confirmed his fear when he caught a glance of
both people in his back seat. One being his former high-school bully, while the other was his
own mother.

Being so wasted, it seemed unlikely that they’d know who he was, and so he said nothing.
Then, just as he slowly pulled back onto the highway, his former bully asked him something
that would change the entire ride.

“Yo, man, you don’t mind if me and her fool around back here do you?”

Jason could have stopped them, told them to get out and refunded their fair. Being so horny
from the porn earlier however, it wasn’t his brain doing the thinking anymore, and so he
shook his head.
“Nah it’s all good … go nuts.”

“Fuck yeah … I’ve been waitin’ forever to dick this milf,” he chuckled, pulling her shirt open
and allowing her heavy and sagging tits to spill out.

“Y-Yeah?” said Jason, hoping to learn all he could.

Loud sucking noises filled the backseat, and Jason glanced in the mirror again, seeing his
bully suck his mother’s nipples for a moment.

“Mmhh, yeah … I used to beat her son all the time … and I always wanted that cherry on top
you know? Finish the game by fuckin’ his precious mommy.”

“Yeah, t-totally.”

It wouldn’t take Jason very long to go straight back to his house, but given the situation, he
wanted to draw it out as long as he could. Deciding to take a detour, he figured the drunks
wouldn’t notice if it took a little longer.

“My sshon deserved it though-” said his mother, causing Jason’s cock to swell again. “He’s
jhust a whiny bitch!”

The bully gave a laugh, before unzipping his pants and changing the way he sat, leaning back
so he could free his cock. Tilting the mirror, Jason got an eyeful of his former bully’s dick
before it was greedily swallowed by his own mother’s ruby red lips. Moans filled the car, and
Jason drove a little slower to buy himself more time to watch.

Nearly hitting the curb each time he looked, his hands shook as she watched his mother’s
mouth deform over the bulbous swollen head, wet saliva smearing her lipstick around his
shaft as she rubbed it against her face.

“Must feel good-” Jason somehow managed to say, wanting to hear more of his bully’s
thought process. “Finally getting blown by that guy’s mom.”

“Uuoohh, fuck yeah it does. I used to get in so much trouble because of the things I did to
him … and now I’m gettin’ rewarded for it.”

“Wow … that’s wild.”

“Mmhh, damn she’s good at it too … hey, is it gunna be a problem if I bust back here? Might
get the seat sticky.”
Jason was driving with one hand now, his other being subtle as he stroked himself. If it
wasn’t for the porn he watched earlier he wouldn’t be doing it, but with something so sinfully
erotic happening right behind him, he had no resistance left.

“N-Naw, go for it, dude … “

“Fuck yeah … you’re an awesome Uber dude, most won’t let me do this.”

That’s when Jason had an idea, one that nearly made himself bust.

“Well … you uh, sound like you deserve it. In fact … are you going back to his mom’s house?”

The mother had moved her lips down to the heavy and musky nutsack below, her tongue
lapping at the orbs and wrinkled skin. Grasping his shaft, she now worked its length like a
piston, pumping it wildly to produce more pre-cum as she finally sucked one of the balls into
her mouth.

“Hell yeah I am … Mmhh, and I bet I know what you’re gonna suggest.”

Swallowing was difficult with his mouth so dry, but Jason couldn’t help himself, he had to
make the suggestion.

“Fuck her in his room, right?”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely! She said he still lives with her … so I’m gonna do everything to this
nasty bitch in there!”

“Niiiiice.”

Adjusting the mirror once more, Jason’s grip tightened on the wheel as his cock nearly tore
through his pants. Suddenly locking eyes with his mother, her drunken stupor seemed
momentarily gone, as the two remained completely silent.

Suddenly more determined, his mother began bobbing her head over the shaft, swirling her
tongue and sucking harder, all the while her eyes remained fixed on his through the mirror.
Pushing her cheek out with his cock, throating it down to his stomach and squeezing his
balls, it didn’t take long before that previously mentioned nut arrived.

Moaning loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear it, Jason nearly ran off the road as he
watched his bully’s cock explode in his mother’s face, fat chunky ropes suddenly rocketing
from the tip, landing not only across her face, but the seats and upholstery,

“Fhuuuuck!”
“You fhuckin’ like that donsh’t’ya?” his mother purred, smearing cum over her nose and
cheek.

Jason said nothing, his own cock throbbing in rhythm to his bully’s as his mother laughed,
moaned, rubbed her face against his dick and drunkenly slurring.

With only a few blocks to go, there was little left to say beyond encouraging their debauchery.

“Looks like we’re here,” he coughed, clearing his throat. “Y-You two have fun, eh?”

“We sure as hell will,” chuckled his bully, shuffling out of the car with his cock flopping
around. “Thanks for the ride, dude.”

Poorly covering his nudity, his bully and mother staggered into the streetlights and up the
driveway while Jason slid back in his seat. Keeping his face in shadow in case they looked
back, he waited until they vanished in the house before driving down the road.

Stopping only a block later, he parked under a broken streetlight in order to free his own dick,
pumping it wildly before spraying long white ropes across the steering wheel and his clothes.
Breathless and slowly squeezing out what drops remained, he sat for a moment and waited
on the orgasm to ease, watching cum drip down the wheel while his mind cleared.

However, even with his climax over, the situation remained far too erotic, and he began
wondering if he should keep the night of perversions going. It was his home. All he had to do
was drive back, and sneak up to his room.

Reaching out for his phone, he quickly shut off the Uber app and ended his work early.
Turning the car around, he now headed back, ready to see just how wild the night could really
get.
Issue#72 💀
​ “The Headset”

“It’s quite a remarkable device really. The tech behind it is pretty advanced, but essentially
it’s able to tap into the emotional state and mind of the person selected in a video,
transferring their feelings and sensations to whomever is wearing the device!”

“That’s … incredible.”

“Right? Imagine wanting to experience how great you felt on your sweet 16th birthday party, or
that triumphant moment when you won the marathon! All you need to do is load in the video,
connect the sensors, select the person in the video you want to experience, and the device
does the rest!”

That was the sales pitch for the latest device in mental transference technology. Brandon was
sold, as was his recently widowed mother. The idea that she could load up videos of her and
her late husband, and have the device transfer how happy she felt during her wedding back
into her, was mind blowing. Of course it was pricey, but as the product promised, the effects
would be life changing.

The curious part about the device was that in addition to receiving emotions and sensations,
it allowed you to also feel your own, a dual sense of inputs. So not only could you feel pleasure
or joy from the person selected in the video, but your own as well.

Brandon’s first chance to really use it came a week after his mother bought it, when she left
the house to run errands. Knowing her well, it would be hours before she returned, and with a
giddy excitement, Brandon loaded up the neural device, strapped it on, attached the sensors,
and then found his favorite adult videos.

It didn’t take long to understand how powerful the device was. Selecting the man in the
amateur video, a rush of pleasure like he had never felt before assaulted his senses.

Everything the man felt flooded his mind, the wave of pleasure from each thrust, the woman
tugging at his balls, the powerful orgasm and every pump the man’s cock ejected cum, it all
translated straight into Brandon’s brain.

As expected, the overwhelming experience sent his own cock reeling, making him blast
nearly as much cum as the man in the video. Pausing it, Brandon needed a moment to
compose himself, starting to truly understand just how amazing the technology was.

That’s when the VWD was officially established, and everything changed.
Suddenly there were videos popping up all over the internet and TV, videos of Black
Supremacy, of whites being dominated, enslaved, euthanized. Videos Brandon and his mother
had no way of avoiding.

To their credit it was nearly a month before they gave in, unable to fight the urges the VWD
had instilled in them. Coming home early from his part time job, Brandon entered his home
to find noises in his mother’s bedroom.

Worried, excited, wondering if perhaps she had finally invited black men over, he snuck down
the hallway in order to peek in and spy on her, only to discover her in bed, sprawled out and
completely nude, with one exception: The VR headset.

“Oooohh, god yes!” she growled, rubbing her pussy as her toes curled and wiggled.

Brandon was instantly erect, desperate to know what she was watching. Sound could be
heard from her headset, but it was so muffled it was hard to make it out. It was very clear
however that whatever the video was, it was driving his mother wild.

She hadn’t cum yet though, that much was clear. Given the chance, Brandon now freed his
cock, sneaking into the room to be closer to the action. He knew just how immersive the
headset could be, and so long as he didn’t touch her, she wouldn’t have a clue he was home.

Getting near the end of the bed and now pumping his cock, he watched her pussy convulse
as she flicked her clit, the sheets already soaked from the lengthy session. Her body looked
more pink, flush with heat and arousal as something in the video sent another wave of
pleasure into her brain, causing her to lift her butt from the bed, tensing and grunting as she
humped the air.

“Uughh! Guh! Guh!”

Her noises were almost animalistic, guttural. It left Brandon burning with curiosity, as
nothing he had watched in the headset had made him react so strongly. Given her jolts and
spaztic movements, it was clear she was feeling something visceral, something intense.

Stroking himself wildly at the end of the bed, he watched in amazement as she went through
fits of pleasure, moaning, howling, thrusting her hips and finally reaching what seemed to be
her climax. The video must’ve been close to ending, for as it did, her moans became shrieks
of pleasure, her back arched, her fingers moved even faster and in an amazing display, his
mother’s orgasm resulted in her pussy spraying a powerful burst of liquid across everything
below her, including her son.
Stunned, Brandon came as well, plastering the lower end of her bed with his spunk, shot after
shot leaving gunky trails of white slime rolling down the wood as he listened to his mother’s
orgasmic bliss.

“Oh god yes … Yes … Yes I love it … Mmmghhh I love it so much … yes … oh god thank you.”

Confused, Brandon was left wondering why she seemed to be responding. The headset didn’t
connect to other people, not that he knew of at least, so why was his mother responding in
such a way? With little time to ponder it, and seeing his mother start to come down from her
orgasm, he knew it was time to leave, and so without cleaning his spunk, he quickly left the
room, cock semi-hard and dripping as he quietly left the room.

It wasn’t until the next day that Brandon was alone with the headset again. His mother
having gone to work, and him having the day off, it was now his turn to have some fun. Of
course seeing his mother’s overwhelming orgasm had since burned itself into his mind, and
he grew desperate to know what she had watched.

Using every resource he could while scouring the internet, he learned of a history function,
slightly hidden by the Headsets interface. Fear and excitement gripped him, and soon he was
in his room, in the same sprawled position his mother was, and hitting play on the last used
video.

The same settings and chosen person was already locked in, and Brandon felt his mind rush
into the scene as the view came into focus. Filmed on what seemed to be a phone, the shaky
footage followed the street until turning into a back alley, and suddenly Brandon knew what
the video was.

His stomach tightened, his toes curled, his mind swirl and his cock head flared as it
throbbed. A group of black men came into view, with a single one man down on his knees,
surrounded by them. The man was Brandon’s father.

His mothers settings had placed a particular black man as the focus, and the rush of
excitement and pleasure he felt left him light headed. Between the yelling, the insults, the
vulgar jokes and promises, the man swore he’d fuck the whiteboy’s wife. Brandon was starting
to understand why his mother was so fixated on him, and when he raised his shoe and began
stomping it into the man’s head, the crowd around went wild.

Pleasure erupted from Brandon in ways he didn’t think were possible, and soon he mimicked
his mother, back arched, cock in hand, shooting a rope that nearly hit the ceiling as his
asshole clenched as he watched the man end his father’s life.

Drowning in pleasure, he lost all sense of bearing and time, his cock pumping wildly as he
relaxed in the bed. During his cool-down, a thought occurred to him, one that would change
him forever. Obviously the VWD had allowed this to happen, as none of the men faced
consequences, even before it became mainstream, but with how much everyone's moods
were shifting toward black supremacy, Brandon had an idea.

Starting the video over, he paused, and reselected the focus in the video, no longer putting it
on the black man who killed his father, but on his father instead.
His body went clammy, his heart began to race, fear and excitement like he had never
experienced, terror, regret … arousal? So many mixed messages hit Brandon as the video
continued, leading up to the man lifting his shoe, and Brandon’s cock nearly ready to explode
again, even after just cumming.

“Gon’ fuck your wife next, faggot,” said the black man, before his shoe crashed down.

There was a burst of light and sensations in Brandon’s mind, as his cock practically
shot-precum, barely keeping his orgasm back. Another stomp, another jolt, less pain this
time, more pleasure. Another stomp, and another, and another, just like his mother, his head
jerked back, his back arched again, he began grunting and making noises like she did.

“Gyau .. Gyauh, guhh!”

The final stomp came in harder than all the previous, and with a deep crunch and splatter,
Brandon’s brain went blank as his cock fired it’s second load in less than two minutes, his
body tensing up and shaking, twitching, the feeling of calm and death descending as his
cock continued to pump, and his mind fell silent in it’s trance of nothingness.

When the video ended, feelings came flooding back, but the effect had done its damage. With
one session, Brandon’s brain had already been re-written, his mind now mixing pleasure and
death, a desire for more already filling him to the brim.

Laying in shock, motionless, his arms felt heavy, his body resisting his attempts to move it.
Struggling he finally managed to pull off the headset, ready to see how much cum he had
actually shot, only to find his mother between his legs with a big smile, and several ropes of
cum dripping down her face.

“It’s such a good video, isn’t it?”

Brandon couldn’t speak, his brain still struggling to return to normal. Even if he could
however, he wouldn’t have denied what she said, nor what she was about to suggest.

“Now that we’re on the same page,” she grinned, wiping away a glob of his cum from her
cheek. “I think we should contact the VWD … and invite him over, don't you? We won’t have to
wear the headset this time … it can be entirely real.”
His cock twitched, and she ran her fingernail up its length, watching another dollop of spunk
leak from the tip.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

*
*
*

Issue# 73
​ “Can’t Choose Family”

“Come on you fuckin’ faggot, that’s a load of horse shit!”

Leaning back in his seat, Philip couldn’t help but laugh while his uncle died in the video
game. The online competition had been tough, and today seemed like an extra loud session
of Call of Duty.

Grabbing his nearby beer can, the uncle took another noisy swig before his character
respawned, and the loud gunfire resumed. Having always been on good terms with his
nephew, and with both interested in video games, the two had started hanging out more
when Brock finished setting up his Man-Cave.

A former and failed football player, Brock was the typical washed up jock who claimed others
were to blame on his lack of success in life. At one point he made a decent player, but with
his lack of drive and laziness, he eventually got cut, and so his dreams of becoming an NFL
professional disappeared.

That was more than twenty years ago, and now he got through each day with a pack of beer
and video games. His local job pays well enough, but even then he complains that he
deserves more, even while slacking off and pushing the work onto co-workers.

Having no real friends, it was his sister’s son who took an interest in his gaming setup, and
suddenly made him feel more important. Now he had someone who was easily impressed,
who thought he was a cool adult who got to relax and play video games all day.

“Fuck,” he now cursed, adjusting himself mid-game, “beer goes right through you … I already
gotta piss again.”
Sipping a can of soda, Philip stole a look at his uncle's crotch before thinking up a solution,
one meant as a joke.

“Just piss on the floor then,” he chuckled.

“Right? That’d be way easier.”

“Maybe get a piss slave or something.”

A sly smirk and chuckle was followed by a curious glance, a solitary moment that set
everything else into motion. Now feeling a certain vibe, Brock took a chance to make an off
hand joke.

“A piss slave would be fantastic … So are you available?”

Philip's cock twitched. “Me? A piss slave?”

“Sure! I mean piss slaves get paid in piss right? I got plenty for ya-”

Brock said it jokingly of course, never really expecting his nephew to go for it. These were just
guy jokes, gay ones, but still only meant as jokes. What happened next, he genuinely wasn’t
ready for.

Shuffling forward, Phillip rocked himself out of his low sitting seat before sliding onto his
knees, waddling around before sitting on his heels between his uncles thighs. His expression
of nervous excitement was all that needed to be said, but he called his uncle's bluff anyway.

“Okay,” he said, accepting the situation, “I'm down for it.”

His uncle was just as nervous, half expecting him to stand back up, to shout “gotcha!” or
otherwise act like it was all one big goof. When it didn’t happen, Brock reached for his jeans,
and began to unzip them.

“I mean … you’ll clean up any mess right?”

Phillip rapidly nodded, swallowing as he stared at his uncle's crotch, waiting to see his cock
for the first time.

“Mmh, okay … fuck it.”

With his fly down and the button undone, Brock fished beneath his boxers to pull out a
flaccid and thick uncut cock. A musky odor quickly filled the room, and Philip felt himself
grow lightheaded.
Scooting closer, he had to lean over to put his mouth within reach of the tip, seeing the
texture and foreskin far clearer. At any moment the tip would erupt with a torrent of foul
urine, but before it could, Philip couldn’t help himself, leaning forward to push his tongue
into the foreskin, wriggling it deeper while his lisp wrapped around the head.

“Oh fuck … damn kid.”

Unable to hide his smile, Phillip began sucking and flicking his tongue, pulling back the extra
skin with his lips to reach the filthy head beneath. His uncle was in awe, surprised at how
good his nephew’s lips and tongue felt. It had clearly been a while for him, but with the genie
out of the bottle, he had no doubt he’d be getting free blowjobs for the foreseeable future.

“Mmhh, fuck … you’re gonna suck the piss straight out of my dick, boy … ready?”

Phillip nodded, pushing even closer as he adjusted his pose, raising his chin and relaxing his
throat, still sucking the tip as he awaited the flood of piss to begin. It only took a moment
later before a trickle started, growing into a stream and finally a strong spray, all going
directly to the back of his throat.

Swallowing and gulping as best he could, Phillip obviously wanted to impress, even if he
hadn’t done this before. The taste, odor and volume however were far more than he expected,
and while he managed several mouthfuls, the stream of piss never stopped, and as he pulled
back to gasp for air, the spray continued directly into his face.

“Shit- Ahh, fuck,” grunted his uncle, using his thumb to keep his dick from spraying
anywhere but his nephew’s face.

The splatter of liquid hitting the floor filled the room, the teenager’s shirt was almost
instantly soaked, his eyes closed as his hair and face were drenched, and while he tried to be
quick, swallowing and taking a deep breath, by the time he resumed sucking and swallowing,
he was sitting in a puddle of his uncles piss.

At the same time, the more empty Brock’s bladder became, the more his cock began to swell.
Only as the stream slowed was Philip able to breathe through his nose, his stomach full and
sloshing as his own cock strained against his piss soaked shorts.

Closing his eyes and moaning, the nephew began to push further forward, allowing more of
his uncle's cock into his mouth as it hardened. One, two, three inches made it nearly half way,
and while sucking his cock wasn’t part of being a “piss slave” there would clearly be no
complaints.

“Mmmhh, fuck … good job, kid. You just stay there like that, and I’ll enjoy my game, yeah?”
Phillip nodded, reaching up to fondle and massage his uncle's balls while rhythmically
bobbing on his cock. The Call of Duty noises resumed, and while Brock spread his legs further
for easier access, he reclined, clearly feeling like a king.

Now reaching down with a free hand, Phillip couldn’t resist the urge any longer, freeing his
own cock and pumping it while he pushed his mouth further down on his uncle’s. As the tip
hit the back of his throat, he knew he could go a little deeper, and with a full breath, he
relaxed his throat, extended his tongue to make room, and much like the practice with his
dildos, pushed the head past his uvula and down his throat, until his nose pressed into the
pubic stubble.

His uncle leaned forward in response, the head of his cock gliding into his nephew’s throat
with surprising pleasure. For all his talk of relaxing and playing the game, his character had
already been shot again, and it went entirely unnoticed.

“Mmh, son-of-a-bitch … okay.”

Tossing the controller aside, he now used both hands to grab Phillips hair and head, guiding
him forward and back as the blowjob grew into a face fuck. Slobber, spit, drool and piss made
the session even sloppier, with each thrust building his orgasm, each thrust receiving a tight
squeeze from his nephew’s throat.

“Nnghh, you’re gonna do this for me every time you visit right?”

Phillip nodded as best he could, still pumping his cock down below. Being something he had
often fantasized about, he never expected such a thing to come true, let alone find his uncle
to be so eager for it. Years of pent up frustrations had clearly taken their toll.

“Ghnn … fuck, okay I’m gettin’ close … gunna swallow it?”

Another nod, unable to see the smile on Brock’s face.

The man-cave had become a cacophony of video game gunshots, explosions, and now noisy
throat fucking noises, along with grunting and moans. Their day of fun and games could only
continue once their needs were met, and with his cock racing to orgasm, Brock gripped his
nephew’s hair before slamming his head a far down as it would go, his balls tensing up as his
cock began to pump on it’s own, flexing wildly every half second, each flex a shot of cum that
was now fired directly down Phillip’s throat.

Such an arousing moment sent the teenager over his own edge, and with his cock out, he too
came, pumping rope after rope out, across the couch, himself and floor, their moans
temporarily louder than the stereo and video game.
After about a minute, with their climax’s finished and regular brain function restored, Phillip
slowly pulled off his uncle’s cock, feeling every inch slide out of his mouth while long sticky
strings hung connected between them.

An awkward silence dawned, lasting only a moment before something was said.

“Man … I really needed that.”

“I-I could tell,” Phillip chuckled, still awkwardly on his knees and dripping with piss.

Unsure what etiquette proceeded an incestious blowjob, Phillip only knew that his uncle’s
cock, though flaccid it was becoming, still oozed a few drops of chunky white cum. Being the
pervert he was, and even at the risk of being weird, he leaned forward, lifting the cock in order
to greedily consume what remained.

“Damn, Phillip,” his uncle sighed, also feeling a tad awkward, “does uhh … anyone else know
you do this?”

Phillip shook his head.

“Mmhh, okay … we’ll keep it a secret.”

“Definitely.”

“ … So uh … how about you get me another beer?”

“Sure! Although … I’m not sure how much more piss I can swallow.”

A cocky grin spread across Brock’s face. “That’s okay … that just means I’ll have to piss on you
rather than in you … and uh, just stay on the floor okay? Don’t wanna soak my couch ya
know?”

Nodding, Phillip returned with another can of beer before taking his place on the floor again,
effectively accepting his position as both a piss slave, and his uncle’s personal throat-fuck
toy. This easily could’ve been enough for the teenage pervert, but before the next session of
gaming/pissing began, he couldn’t help but bring up one more naughty idea.

“Ya know,” he began, already feeling his cock stir, “the next time I visit … maybe I could bring
my girlfriend too.”

Brock’s expression rose, along with his eyebrows, and his cock.
“For real?”

“Absolutely … I think she’d love to be a part of our … gaming session.”

*
*
*

Scat Ending 💩
Nodding, Phillip returned with another can of beer before taking his place on the floor again,
effectively accepting his position as both a piss slave, and his uncle’s personal throat-fuck
toy. This easily could’ve been enough for the teenage pervert, but before the next session of
gaming/pissing began, he couldn’t help but bring up one more naughty idea.

“You know … “ he began, smirking at his uncle, “I really do enjoy being a piss slave.”

“I could tell,” he chuckled back, his softening cock still out.

“But I was thinking … if I’m going to be a piss slave, why not just fully commit and be a toilet
slave?”

His uncle took a second before responding, needing to squeeze his cock as he pondered what
the difference was. There couldn’t be that much difference he thought, until it dawned on
him, and he doubted it was what his nephew meant.

“Toilet slave,” he said softly, not giving the phrase much inflection.

“Yep.”

His uncle couldn’t bring himself to say it, hoping his teenage nephew would confirm instead.
Even before that, he still had to hold his erection down, worried he’d misunderstood, that he
was getting hard over something Phillip wouldn’t do. With what they had already done
though, there was little meaning in holding back, and so he nudged the idea just to get
confirmation.

“Which means you’d be willing to … “

“Be your full time toilet slave,” he answered, staring at his uncle’s hardening cock, “so you
could shit on me as much as you wanted too.”
“Fuck … are you serious? Because uhh … you couldn’t have picked a better day.”

Phillip licked his lips, and grinned. “Really? You mean right now?”

“I’ve been going heavy on the fiber for a few days,” he admitted, starting to shuffle out of his
pants to remove them. “Was tryin’ to ignore the urge but uh, a nasty shit slave would come in
pretty handy right now.”

“Nasty Toilet slave,” Phillip corrected, helping to remove his uncle’s underwear.

Standing from the couch, the uncle now stroked over the nephew’s face, fully hard again as
he rubbed his hairy and bulging stomach, as if to work Phillip’s future meal towards its exit.
Now turning around, they both smiled as his nephew got a full view of his cheeks.

“So how should we do this? You gunna lay down or what?”

“Fuck, you have a really juicy looking ass … let me just-“

Reaching up and spreading his uncle’s ass, he got a much better look at the sweaty, musky
hole that contained all the filth he’d soon receive. The only thing he could think to do, was
kiss it, leaning in to press his lips against the puckered hole. Of course it didn’t take long
before his tongue slipped inside, realizing how serious his uncle was, as he had been holding
back quite a lot, all of it on the cusp of being released.

“Oooh fuck, you’re a dirty little fag you know that?”

Pulling back a brown stained tongue, the taste filled Phillip’s mouth as he reached for his
own cock again, needing to desperately stroke himself.

“Mmh, and you’re a filthy old man who doesn’t wash his asshole.”

“Heh, why wash it when I have your tongue?”

“Good point,” Phillip laughed, already laying back and guiding his uncle to squat over his
face. “Fuck … I shouldn’t have filled up on piss.”

“Nnghh, hey, if you can’t eat it, you’re gonna wear it.”

“Yes please … bury and suffocate me in it.”

As raunchy as the act was, it was obvious they were both very excited for it. Phillip wanted
nothing more than to receive his uncle's filth, degrading and reducing his image to nothing
more than a human toilet. Meanwhile Brock was rock hard and oozing pre-cum, an
overwhelming desire to dominate his nephew, to reduce his value as a person and treat him
like total garbage.

“Mmhh … fuck, well I won’t be stopping once I start, okay? No backing out, shit-boy.”

“Do it, pervert … bury your little nephew in a giant pile of shit.”

“Okay … Hhnngg- you asked for it.”

Biting his lip, Phillip squeezed his cock as the wrinkled sweaty brown hole began opening.
With his uncle’s ass hovering above, rising and lowering as he adjusted his stance, he
eventually found the best position and began pushing, too excited to even consider stopping.

“Nnghhhh fuck here it comes, fag.”

Phillip was giddy, his mouth open and his hand pumping away while a thick crackling rope of
deep brown filth escaped its lair. Despite having never done such a thing before, the teenager
found himself more aroused than ever before, surprised by how turned on even the smell
made him, his cock leaking pre-cum like crazy.

By the time the soft rope reached his mouth, he was already edging his orgasm, his eyes
rolling back as he struggled to keep his climax back, the earthy rope of shit gliding to the
back of his throat before overfilling it, causing the rope to coil around his mouth, nose and
face.

A loud and bubbly fart pushed the rope free, splattering it across his forehead and finally
pushing him over the edge. Phillip’s cock erupted, firing more cum than his previous orgasm,
much to his uncle’s amusement.

“Fhuuuck you liked that, huh? Mmhh, that was a good shit … nice and clean.”

Standing and turning around, he observed his work with a big smile, still stroking his cock
while his nephew’s mouth closed around the rope. Just as turned on, Brock couldn’t help but
stroke himself to completion, aiming his cock at the disgusting mess Phillip’s face had
become.

It only took a minute, and he too was shooting another load, splattering his own shit with
thick white ropes of cum that quickly seeped below, running into his nephew’s eyes, nose and
mouth. Raunchy as it was, he knew immediately that this wouldn’t be the last time, that this
needed to be his daily routine.

“Oommah gawd,” Phillip finally managed to say, his mouth still full of waste.
“Take your time, buddy … chew your food and don’t waste it.”

Phillip was in heaven, even with his cock spent it continued pulsing, jerking upright even as
his balls failed to release anymore cum. He knew this was his future, that he’d be doing this
every single time he visited.

The only question left was how he’d introduce his girlfriend to his uncle.

*
*
*

Issue #74
“Don’t Forget”

“Under no circumstance are you allowed to disrespect our guests, young man!”

Caleb nodded obediently, finding himself in the kitchen but unsure how he got there. As if in
a dream-like fog, something strange had happened last night. He remembered going to bed,
but being awoken by a strange noise that enveloped the entire house. When he awoke the
next morning, everything seemed the same, or rather, he couldn’t remember things having
changed.

Had Caleb’s life always been this way?

“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered.

With her back against the refrigerator, his mother stood on one shaky leg as the other was
held up, her athletic frame rocked by the skinny black teenager fucking her with long
deliberate thrusts.

Caleb’s brain was fuzzy. The entire scene felt off, like this wasn’t how things were supposed to
be. He had no memories of the teenager, or why he was in their home and fucking his mother,
but at the same time felt it mundane, as if it had always been.

“Nnnhh, good, so finish making breakfast and go wake your sister.”

He swayed in place, his eyes fixed to the long black cock as it disappeared into his mother’s
shaven pussy. Each inch glistened with her moisture, her arms grabbing the teen for support,
one arm around his neck while the other squeezed his ass.
Was he making breakfast? When did he start that? What did he say that made her upset? He
couldn’t remember, yet he was wearing the apron, spatula in hand. Eggs sizzled in the pan,
toast popped up in the toaster and plates were already set.

He didn’t know what was happening, but it wasn’t normal. His brain wanted to resist, but
some strange force prevented it. Like a robot he had no choice but to obey, and after plating
the food, he left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to find his sister.

Nearing her room, he could already tell something was off. Pushing open the door, his mind
flashed with memories; his sister sitting on her colorful bed, braiding a friend’s hair or
watching videos of boy bands, acting like a typical teenage girl. Those memories confirmed
that something was wrong.

On her back, his sister’s cries of guttural pleasure filled the room, her toes curling as they
wrapped around the black teen’s waist. Being fucked on the same colorful bed, Caleb knew he
had no memories of such debauchery, his sister hadn’t even been allowed a boyfriend yet!

“Uunnnhh, do it,” she groaned, her voice deeper than he had ever heard, “fill this whore with
nigger nut!”

Caleb stumbled back in shock. His sister wasn’t like this. She liked ponies and K-pop bands,
she thought bugs were gross and had several crushes on male movie stars. His brain tried to
find the answer, but it lurched in resistance, dizziness overwhelming his senses as he tried
to remember more.

“Breakfast is ready,” came his voice, spoken through himself.

He watched, feeling disconnected from his own body as his sister finally noticed him. Her
face flushed, hair wet with sweat and matted to her forehead as the black teen licked the side
of her face. Raising a middle finger toward him, Caleb backed out of the room and stumbled
to the stairs.

He couldn’t fathom what was happening, or why he alone could remember their lives before
this. Legs heavy, he leaned against the banister as he trudged down each step, his body
nearly crumpling every time it descended.

“Drain those big nasty balls,” came his mother’s voice from the kitchen, “give mommy every
chunky yellow drop!”
He knew this wasn’t right. In the same way memories of his sister flashed through his mind,
now came those of his mother. Of her baking cakes on their birthday, of being picked up from
school, of them playing Mario Party together, but not one memory of degeneracy.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he passed by the kitchen’s entrance, taking in the view
before continuing to the living room. His mother had moved to her knees now, both hands
stroking the teen’s long cock over her face while his balls swung and slapped her chin.
Pre-cum drooled over her lips, and given the moans, his orgasm would soon follow.

Trembling as he sat on the couch, he grabbed the TV remote and turned it on, hoping the
noise might drown out those of his mother and sister, to help clear his mind if only for a
moment. What he found did anything but.
“-the recent eclipse. Mmuahh, a-and in other news, local school boards have agreed to extend
their advanced sexual education curriculum indefinitely, while partnering with the meat
packing plants.”

Caleb was starting to feel sick, as if he had sustained a concussion that might lead to
vomiting. Watching the news had never been a big fascination of his, but he’d watched
enough to know this wasn’t right.

Black cocks now poked and smeared their slime against both sides of the white anchor’s
face, causing her speech to slur as she smiled and read the teleprompter. Taking time to suck
or kiss them when she could, there was no shame or fear in her job performance, once more
someone acting as if it was perfectly normal.

The words eclipse, rang in Caleb’s head, and memories flashed through his mind once more.
Of him and his family outside, wearing black glasses, waiting on the eclipse, counting down
the minutes until totality, and then …. Screams of horror.

His head buzzed like a hive of angry hornets, the sound almost deafening him. Why couldn’t
he remember? Why did trying to remember hurt so much? Thrashing on the couch, he
tumbled to the floor holding his head, banging it against the carpet to stop the buzzing.

“Caleb? What’s wrong?”

His mother’s voice stopped him, and for a moment the buzzing stopped. Dizziness still
prevaded, and so sitting up was challenging. Was this a dream? A nightmare? His mother’s
voice came again, sounding just like it always had, motherly, caring, concerned.

“What are you doing? Is everything okay?”

Eyes closed, his vision swirling, Caleb sat back against the legs of the couch, giving himself a
moment to adjust. Perhaps he had fallen from his bed last night, hit his head, caused some
kind of delirium, that could explain it.

Bracing himself with the couch, he slowly opened his eyes, hoping, begging to find his
normal life had returned.

“Come on, breakfast is getting cold.”

His mother stood before him, as nude as he had seen her earlier, legs spread, white dollops of
cum oozing from her gaped pussy as slimy white lines of cum criss crossed her happy
smiling face.

“It was a face,” Caleb said in horror. “It was in the eclipse.”

Issue #75 💀
​ “Therapy”

It was a rather harrowing event, you understood that. Having your car break down in the
middle of the ghetto, at night, while being a well-off white-man would be enough to frighten
anyone! To make it worse your son was with you, and despite the black lives matter bumper
sticker, it didn’t mean much to the men who found you both.

You had always been progressive and aware of your white privilege, but never before had you
felt so … conflicted. Discussing it all with the court appointed black trans therapist was
supposed to help, and now you sat awkwardly, describing every shocking moment as she
spread her legs and listened.

“Y-Yeah so like I was saying they uhm, pulled my son and I from the car, saying so many …
vulgar things.”

The therapist’s dress was short, short enough to expose everything to you. No
undergarments, simply a long, stiff black cock that seemed to thicken with each new detail.
You knew this was supposed to be therapeutic, but it was starting to feel more like an adult
video.

“Tell me some of what they said,” she asked, her cock jumping as she smiled, showing her
perfectly white teeth.
A silver droplet of pre-cum oozed at the tip, and while this felt wrong, you trusted the advice
of your black betters, knowing better than to question or impose your whiteness against
someone helping you.

“They uhm, started saying what a cute piece of … “

You hesitated, unaccustomed to such adult language.

“It’s okay, this is a safe space, you don’t have to worry about upsetting anyone.”

Nodding, you repeated yourself.

“They said my son was a cute piece of … white fuck meat.”

A sly grin formed at the corner of her mouth. “It sounds like a compliment to me,” she mused,
her cock bouncing again, making it hard to look away. “What else did they say?”

“They mentioned my son’s lips, how they looked perfect for s-sucking ni- uhm, bla- …
colored-.”

“Sucking nigger cock,” she corrected, alreadying catching your slip. “I saw the photos you
brought and I must say, they weren’t wrong. Those pink lips were made to wrap around a fat
black dick, and I’m honestly a little jealous those men got to experience it.”

She smirked at your nervous expression, now waiting for you to continue and clearly enjoying
herself. While she hadn’t reached for herself yet, the arousal was clear, and you thought
maybe she couldn’t help it, maybe legally she couldn’t touch herself since she was a
therapist.

“So after they pulled us out, they began shoving and pushing us toward some run-down and
vacant building,” you explained.

“That must’ve been scary.”

“It was,” you admitted, remembering the fear all over again. “Men were already surrounding
my car too, ready to strip it and s-steal it.”

“Now you know that’s just wrong,” she corrected, “those disadvantaged black men needed
your car more than you did, that’s all.”
You remember your white privilege lessons, along with how impoverished blacks can’t be
charged when stealing. It’s simply a matter of one race’s advantages over another, thus
considered reparations when appropriate.

“R-Right, sorry.”

“Keep going, what happened once you were inside the abandoned building?”

Adjusting yourself, you shifted in your chair, not wanting to relive the experience if you could
help it. Still there was little choice, and with your eyes constantly glancing at the therapist’s
drooling erection, you continued.

“They started undressing him … while they robbed- uhm, appropriated my wallet for
reparations.”

“That’s better. Keep going.”

You swallowed. “My son was nude in only a minute, and about three of the men had their
hands on him. They were commenting on how … soft he was, how pretty he looked for a little
white boy.”

Your therapist smiled wider, and for a moment you thought she’d reach between her legs,
only to adjust the skirt. Pre-cum now hung from the tip like a long clear string, wiggling each
time it bounced or the head flared with excitement, swelling momentarily.

“They put him on his knees after that, and each pulled out their … big black … cocks.”

“Mmmhh, and how did that make you feel?”

“Scared. Like I wasn’t in control or … had no way to help my son.”

“Why would you help him? Did he seem in distress? Was he crying or asking them to stop?”

You vividly recall the scene in your mind, the black men smirking, their fat cocks in hand as
they stroked themselves hard, slapping their erections in their hands like clubs, and your
son’s wide eyed expression of … excitement.

“N-No, he … he didn’t seem upset about it.”

Having picked up her small clipboard, the therapist now jotted a few notes before adjusting
the way she sat. Her cock swung back and forth under her skirt as she did so, reclining
slightly more and giving you an even better view, her fat low hanging balls no longer blocking
the shaved underside of her cheeks.
“Were the black men enjoying themselves?”

“Oh certainly.”

“Mmhh, good. Okay, continue. What did the men do to you after receiving their reparations.”

Having stared at the therapist’s cock for so long, you only now began to realize how much of
a tent you were pitching. Embarrassingly you adjusted yourself, much to the delighted smirk
of the therapist, clearing your throat before resuming.

“Well they … didn’t have much use for me after that so, they told me I could just … watch.”

“Well that’s very nice of them, don’t you think?”

“N-Nice? Letting me watch as they … raped, my son?”

“Who said anything about rape? You just told me he didn’t seem upset. Keep going, what did
they do to your son first?”

“They forced him to … suck their cocks.”

Another noticeable jump from her black dick, and you felt light headed. Was this normal
therapy? Shouldn’t you be getting sympathy for enduring such trauma?

“Forced him,” she repeated, “did he actually struggle or fight back against them?”

It was impossible to misremember the memory, and very clearly you could see your son’s
face, his bright eyes wide before his mouth opened, his tongue extending, the drooling and
filthy black cock gliding inside until stopping at the back of his throat. There was no
resistance.

“I … I guess not. He opened his mouth and … let it happen.”

“See? I’m getting a clearer picture now, and I’m starting to wonder if you’re making this into
more than it was.”

It hurt. To be told you might be over-stating what happened, exaggerating the event, causing
problems for others by lying about something that simply wasn’t serious. You waited, and
when she motioned for you to continue, you did.

“Uhm, so … I just knelt there and watched like they told me. Each one took turns with him,
letting him adjust to their size before being rough with him.”
“Rough?”

“Like … a blowjob but … it was … violent.”

“Oh, they throat fucked him, I see.”

Again you stared at her cock, wondering how something so long and hard could remain in
place, almost floating. It didn’t stand up like yours, rather it hung, clearly stiff, with its weight
and size overcoming its ability to stand upright. An urge began to form, a desire to see just
how aroused your trauma would make the therapist.

“They also began saying really cruel things to him, even while … throat fucking him.”

“Tell me some things they said,” she asked, excitement clear in her voice.

The words were already seared into your mind, and you’d never forget them. You remember
the fear you felt, wondering if this would be your last day on earth, and if these men would get
away with it.

“One of the men, while … throat f-fucking my son, told him that pretty white-boys like him,
were born to serve black cock. That it was his only purpose in life.”

Your therapist couldn’t control her facial expression, eyebrows bouncing up as she smirked,
as if to say: He’s completely right. You struggled to adjust your own erection again, then
continued.

“Another man told my son his life didn’t matter at all, that no one would care if they … killed
him.”

“Wow,” she said softly, a smile still on her lips as she looked down and scribbled on her
clipboard. “Did he say that while face fucking him?”

“Yes,” you answered, almost dejectedly.

“How did your son react?”

Again the memory arose, clear as day. The black cock violently thrusting in and out of his
mouth, the man’s balls slapping his chin, spit and slime covering the shaft, dripping and
creating a sloppy bubbly foam, and finally hearing him say it, telling your son his death would
mean nothing.

“He … started touching himself.”

Your therapist couldn’t keep her laugh stifled, and reached for her cock only to stop short,
restraining herself as the head oozed another dollop of slime. Your heart was pumping faster
now, and while you felt sick re-telling the story, perhaps this was the point of the court
appointed therapy.

“Honestly,” she sighed, a smug grin on her face, “I’m still not seeing why this was such a big
deal. They hadn’t harmed you, your son was entirely complacent with what they were doing,
and even seemed to enjoy it from what you say. Where’s the problem?”

Despite the truth of her words, you knew how the story ended, and so you continued, sure
she’d understand once you reached it. You were also growing morbidly curious, wondering if
the story’s end would be enough to make her big black cock erupt across the nice carpeted
floor.

“It … got a lot worse,” you explained, “face fucking him was just the start.”

“I would hope so,” she snorted, “go on then, what happened next?”

“They transitioned to sex and … made me get closer for a better view.”

“Oh really … well I bet you saw every little detail then.”

You nodded, watching her cock jump once more, causing your own to do the same. You knew
she wanted to hear it all, so there was no point in waiting on her to ask.

“They were each so big,” you admitted, “like giant black … pythons.”

“I don’t mean to pry but, it’s important to be honest in therapy. Their cocks were a lot bigger
than you and your son’s, right? Maybe even twice as big?”

“Y-Yeah … at least twice as big.”

“I thought so,” she said confidently. “Oftentimes white-men will form their own deep seeded
hate against blacks just out of jealousy. It’s very emasculating when someone is … psychically
superior to you. “

“I … I guess I was a little jealous.”

“You know … it's been proven that openly admitting your … inferiority, has helped those with
trauma move forward in their treatment.”

“Really?”
“It sure has. I tell you what, since you’ve been sitting for a while, why don’t we try something?”

Your heart raced faster now, and you watched as she carefully hiked her skirt up a few inches.
Still leaning back in her chair, she kicked off her black heels, wiggling her pink painted toes
before speaking again.

“This exercise is something I’d call tried-and-true, as I’ve helped multiple white men gain a
much better understanding of their place, and subsequently, how to let go of their stress and
trauma.”

“Oh, wow … well okay, wh-what do I do.”

“It couldn’t be simpler,” she assured you. “Just step over here, and get down on your knees in
front of me.”

Your cock strained against the fabric of your pants. “O-On my knees?”

“Just like the men fucking you son made you do.”

You didn’t question her, you couldn’t, and so you stood. Awkwardly, with no creases of fabric
to hide your erection in, the pitched tent became very obvious. Thankfully she said nothing,
but you both knew she could see it.

Dropping to your knees in front of her was the quickest way to hide it, and so you did. Now
with a much closer view, flashbacks from the event returned, sparking the images of thick
black cocks pushing into your son’s cheeks, his squeals, the laughter, the insults. Your hands
shook.

“Great, so this position is perfect for you to openly announce your jealousy of black cock.”

“Wh-what do I say?”

“Just be honest,” she answered with a smirk, finally reaching down and grabbing her thick
shaft, fingers squeezing and making more pre-cum to leak out.

“I … I’m jealous,” you croaked nervously.

“Listen, you have one right in front of you now, get a good look at it. It might not be as big as
the ones that fucked your son but-”

“It’s just as big,” you blurted, stopping her a moment.

“ … Really? Hm, how does it compare to yours?”

You also couldn’t stop yourself from admitting the truth.

“Yours is bigger … at least twice as big.”

“Oh wow … well listen, there’s nothing wrong with you having a … “ she gave a condescending
little laugh, “little white baby dick.”

It felt like a stab to the chest, and yet your little white babydick still tented the front of your
pants. Her’s jumped again, and you shuffled ever so closer.

“S-So I just admit-”

“Everything,” she answered, cutting you off, “I told you, this is a safe space … there is nothing
to worry about, voice your jealousy, admit what’s in your heart, confess all of it to the very
thing you’re shamed by.” With that, she wagged her cock at you and waited.

It took a moment to build your courage, but once you began, you found it hard to stop.
Surprisingly, it did make you feel better, with every word that poured from you the burden felt
lighter, and so you embraced it while she … encouraged you..

“I’m … a pathetic white-man.”

“Yes you are.” She gave her cock a few enthusiastic strokes.

“I’m a failure of a father.”

“A complete joke, really.”

“I got mad at the black men who hurt my son-”

“Mmhh, and why?”

“Because I was jealous … “

“Jealous of what?”

“Of how superior blacks are.”

“That’s right … say it again white-boy.”

She was stroking her cock in earnest now. Your mouth had gone dry, but you couldn’t stop,
not when it looked like her orgasm was building.
“Blacks are superior to me.”

“Exactly! So what does that make you?”

“Inferior,” you answered, “I’m an inferior white-man whose life doesn’t matter.”

“Fuck yes, now you’re getting it. You’re a pathetic, meaningless white loser, whose life has no
value beyond pleasuring black cock … just like your son.”

“Yes … you’re right … I don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

“Mmhh, fuck … that’s really good, keep going, I’m getting close.”

There was little acting left in the situation. Your therapist was pumping her cock in your face,
closing in on an explosive orgasm she needed your help with. Self debasement and loathing,
you understood the goal.

“I wish those black men had done more to my son and me.”

“Mmmhh yes you do.”

“We both deserved everything that happened … a-and I shouldn’t complain.”

“That’s right,” she sighed, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back, “I bet your wife
would say the same, am I right?”

“Y-Yeah … she would.”

“Tell me her reaction, was she excited?”

“She … laughed about it.”

“Oh fuck yes, that’s exactly how a white mother should react. I can’t believe she even married
someone like you.”

You couldn’t keep it a secret from your therapist, not with her orgasm so close.

“Well … we’re not married anymore.”

“Oh please tell me the truth … tell me why you two split up.”

“She left me … for a black man.”

The laughter and moans from your therapist mixed together, your cock now formed a wet
spot at the tip of the tent while you continued staring down the barrel of her oozing cock.

“Hahahaha, of course she did! No wonder you’re jealous of black dick! After what they’ve done
to your family, how could you not be? Fuck … give me some more, I’m really close.”

“Well … I … caught her in bed with him.”

“Mmmhh, what position?”

“He said it was a … mating press.”

“Oooh that’s good … no condom I bet.”

“N-No … he came in her pussy and told me to … k-kill myself.”

“Nnghhh fuck! You should’ve taken his advice! Shit, I’m definitely gonna nut … get your face in
place … I’m gonna bukkake you with one load.”

Heart pounding and hands trembling, you leaned closer, watching and waiting as her hand
pumped faster, the anticipation growing as you waited on her climax, needing it as much as
her, ready to turn the page and accept your real place in life.

There was a sudden loud ringing, and she swore, reaching over and grabbing her phone to
shut off the alarm. Your confusion grew, her hand stopped, and she held her throbbing cock
with two fingers.

“Fuck … son-of-a-bitch … hoooo-shit, right on the edge.”

Careful not to turn her cock into a spasming fountain of cum, she waited on her edging to
fade before letting go and sighing heavily.

“Well … it looks like we just ran out of time for today. I guess we’ll have to pick this up next
week.”

Your heart now plummeted. The session couldn’t end this way, not when you were so close to
a breakthrough. You needed it to continue, you’d do anything for it to continue.

“W-Wait! We can’t be done-”

“Sorry,” she sighed again, already adjusting her skirt, “the government only pays for a set
amount of time each week.”
“Th-Then … I’ll pay it! Th-that means we can continue right? I’ll pay it out of pocket!”

Her smile grew, showing her perfectly straight white teeth again. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! I can pay, I swear! I uhh … I have … I have my son’s college fund.”

Her hand returned to her cock. “That’s true … I guess he won’t be needing it anymore will he?”

“N-No … y-you deserve it more anyway.”

“Now that shows some real progress,” she praised, opening her legs again while starting a
new timer on her phone. “Okay then … if you really want this session to have a big finish, why
don’t we go back to your son, and you tell me in as much detail as you can, exactly what they
did to him.”

“Y-Yeah I’ll tell you everything-”

“Good,” she chuckled, moving her foot to point at your crotch. “You can also unzip and touch
yourself if you want … even a little white babydick deserves some relief now and again.”

You didn’t deny the need for it, and as you freed your small white cock, you could tell this
session was far from over. The black men had done so much to your son, the details couldn’t
be told quickly. Of course that also meant your therapist might cum more than once.

“Okay,” you started again, cock in hand this time. “So … did I mention the men had these big
dogs with them?”

Your therapist smiled, and the slow pump of her cock began again.

TWO