Date: Mon, 15 Feb 2010 16:38:02 -0800 (PST)
From: D.O. <celliophonic@yahoo.com>
Subject: BBC At The Disco     (Interracial)

			     BBC at the Disco

				  By D.O.
			  celliophonic@yahoo.com

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bestbbcstories/


February 15, 2010

            My eyes met his from across the sweaty, crowded dance floor.
The ebony stud had caught my attention almost immediately, and apparently I
had caught his as well. His bald, black dome was shining under the rotating
disco ball. He was clearly a top and a daddy. So big and burly and
masculine, his muscles straining to escape the confines of the skin-tight
royal blue Hilfiger T-shirt. He looked to be at least twenty years my
senior but he was in fantastic shape. He stood about six foot three or four
and looked to be around two hundred thirty five pounds of rock solid
physique. He looked like he just stepped out of an interracial porn
video. Kinda mean looking and decidedly dominant. I gulped as his eyes
captured mine with a smoldering gaze, melded with predatory aggression. His
smile came across as both warm and inviting and as an arrogant sneer. A man
who knew who he was and what he wanted......and perhaps more importantly,
how to get it.

                I shouldn't have even been in the place. What the hell was
I doing in a gay dance club anyway? I was 28, straight and just coming off
a broken engagement a few months previous. Somewhere along the way during
my avid porn-surfing online, I must have come across some interracial porn
and really enjoyed seeing those white girls getting it long and hard from
the hung black dudes. Then I accidentally (I keep telling myself) stumbled
upon interracial gay porn and I was hooked. It was then that I realized
that when I had been jerking it to the straight black-on-white shit I had
been watching, I was really imagining myself as the female, taking
everything those brothas could dish out and then some. From then on I
couldn't get enough of fantasizing about Mandingo dick. The length, the
girth, the wicked curve, the hot and sticky cumshots. God I was addicted to
the thought of being a black man's plaything! But surely I could
 never, would never actually go through with such an idea. I was fucking
straight, after all. I fucked girls, loved pussy and tits.

                Yet here I was, inside Club Desire, the swankiest gay
hangout in town, nursing a gin and tonic. I was wearing a black
handkerchief with a white stripe on it just peeking out from the right
pocket of my tight fitting blue jeans. It was meant to signify that I was
into black tops, I guess. At least that's what I had read somewhere. I was
scared shitless that someone would see it and approach me, even though,
deep down it's what I wanted more than anything in the world. The music was
thumping mercilessly, the volume certainly too loud. I was getting a
headache. I looked back up at the black guy across the room, a good thirty
yards away. Except, he wasn't thirty yards away anymore. He was almost upon
me, not more than fifteen feet. Seconds later I gasped as he swooped in
beside me, settling himself at my table without asking permission, as if he
could do whatever the fuck he wanted. It was then that I noticed a white
lace kerchief tied around his huge left bicep. I searched my mind,
struggling to recall all of the gay hanky codes. My eyes widened as I
remembered it was to indicate that the wearer was into white bottom-boys.
Shit! Now what the hell was I going to do? I had just been getting ready to
leave, recognizing a bad plan when I saw one. But then he spoke.

                "Can I buy you another drink, sweetie?" His voice was deep,
thick like I imagined chocolate marmalade would sound if chocolate
marmalade had sound and he annunciated his words slowly and with an
authority that suggested he was in total control of the situation. I was
suddenly very uncomfortable and I moved to excuse myself. I responded back
to his question. "Uhh, I'm really sorry...sir. I think I made a big mistake
coming...in here......tonight. I'm actually...not...really...I'm not
really......gay. Actually." I was stuttering my words, sounding like an
idiot. I could feel my face turning red with embarrassment and I was
quietly thankful for the dim lighting in the place.  Suddenly, I felt his
brawny paw covering my hand that was still resting on the tabletop. The
strength and power in just that single hand had me practically swooning and
I felt my knees and stomach both turn to jelly. "But I just got here,
sweetheart. I'd like to talk a while... How'd that be?" He just about
purred the words and I found myself slightly annoyed at his calling me
`sweetie' and `sweetheart' but my heart was hammering in my chest so hard,
I could scarcely even focus on my irritation and I let it slide without
protest.

                "I guess......it's OK...for a couple minutes. But I'm not
really...into guys. I thought for...a second...that I might be......" He
smiled again, a slightly evil grin and I didn't quite know how to read
it... or him. He signaled the scantily-clad boy server for another of what
I was having and continued on with the conversation, never missing a
beat. "Relax, baby. I know you're not into...guys... Just blackmen." He
emphasized the word `men'. "I've known plenty of boys like you. I can
always tell when a white boy is looking for a big, black daddy..." His eyes
flashed with a sultry and welcoming danger. I could not look away from his
gaze, no matter how I tried. "What's your name, boy?" I could tell he
expected an immediate answer and for some reason felt oddly compelled to
please him. "Uhh...um...it's Shawn, sir. Shawn Helmho..." I stopped myself
before I revealed my last name. "Just Shawn." That arrogant smirk fell
across his features again as he repeated my name back to me. "Shawn, huh?
Well Shawn, I'm Malik. My name comes from Arab royalty and several of my
ancestors were conquering war leaders. I guess you might consider me......a
conqueror of sorts..." His eyes still held mine in an unwavering gaze, hard
and filled with power... and something else. I kept telling myself I didn't
know the look, but in truth I knew all too well. I had given it to many
women I had dated through the years. It was lust, craving...desire. And it
scared the shit out of me. I had never had a man look at me like that. Now
here was this man, this black man, old enough to be my father, staring at
me with an animalistic hunger in his eyes. I felt my breath coming in short
gasps. What the fuck was I doing? I couldn't go through with this. Jesus! I
was straight! Straight! I was screaming at myself in my mind. But all I
could do was stare into this man's eyes, allowing him to bore into my
soul. His hand was stroking mine on the table, just a light feathery touch
that belied the utter control in his contact. "When did you break up with
your wife...?  Girlfriend?" He asked the question so smoothly; I didn't
even realize I was answering back. "Fiancé...actually. Almost got
married... She broke things off a few months ago." Malik smiled a little
and chuckled as he lifted his drink to his lips. It smelled like bourbon. I
hadn't even realized the waiter had brought us drinks. "Now wouldn't that
have been a damn shame. Wasting a fine ass like yours on a woman..." I felt
myself go red with shame again and I realized he could tell. "You blush
real pretty, baby boy. You want to maybe get out of here, go somewhere a
little more......private...?" He left the question hanging in the air, all
the while holding my gaze in his, undeterred by my shyness.

                "Uh, I'm not sure I should... I should probably
get......going. I..." He silenced me with his index finger to my
lips. "Shhhh, baby boy. Come on with Daddy Malik. There's a motel around
the corner. We can get down. You can decide if you like what you see, no
pressure. You can leave anytime..." He stood up, gripping my elbow to pull
me along. I couldn't fight him. As I stood up next to him, I suddenly
realized how big he was. I'm not a small guy at five foot ten and about a
hundred eighty pounds and in pretty good shape, I might add. But Malik
towered a good half foot above me and looked to outweigh me by at least
fifty pounds, maybe more. Jesus he was big and absolutely black as black
can be. God the fucker was black! He slapped a fifty down on the table and
guided me by the elbow through the sweating, thrashing throngs of dancing
fags toward the exit. My knees felt so weak I didn't think I could make it,
 but I could feel his strong body pressed right up next to mine, supporting
me, steering me. Steering me en route to a new destiny. I'd never been so
scared of anything in my entire life.

                We stepped out into the 70 degree night air. The full moon
shone on Malik's shaven head as we walked past the bouncer at the door.
Suddenly out of the confines of the hot, smoky bar I was inhaling his
scent. It was a mix of cologne, bourbon and black masculinity. My knees
went even weaker as I pulled closer to him just to smell him some more. I
couldn't believe I was doing this. Going to some skeezy motel with a black
guy I had just met? What the hell was I thinking? I suddenly realized his
big hand was cupping my butt, kneading and fondling with an unexpectedly
familiar grip. I felt the need to pull away, all of a sudden snapping back
to reality. "I'm sorry... Malik. I just......can't do this. I shouldn't." I
was stammering again, not even quite sure what I was saying. The big stud
simply kept a strong grip on me and kept walking. Who the fuck did he think
he was?  Without warning we were standing in front of a motel room
door. When did that happen? "We're here, baby boy. I know you think you
don't want to do this, but I think deep down......you want this more than
you can possibly know. Why else would you be in that bar, wearing that
bandanna in your pocket? It's obvious you need a strong and knowing black
daddy to make into what you've always wanted to be: a bitch......" As he
spoke he pulled out a key and swiftly inserted it into the lock. Jesus, he
already had a room ready to go. Fuck.

                In one sure motion he opened the door and pushed me inside,
despite my protestations. The door slammed behind us and I heard him growl
as he pushed me against the near wall and immediately covered my mouth with
his, plunging his tongue inside me. And just like that, I was kissing a man
for the first time. My muffled cries fell on deaf ears and soon my own
licker began dueling with his, swirling around, tasting his spit. I put my
hands on his shoulders to push him away, but he was much stronger than me
and I slowly realized that my once-protesting hands were soon no longer
pushing him away, but rather pulling him into me, exploring his hard
muscles. His tongue continued plundering my mouth, kissing me so hard, I
felt my lips begin to bruise. He was whispering dirty, scandalous things
into my mouth as he continued our fervent lip-lock. "That's it baby boy.
Get into it. We both know you're a faggot, a sleazy little whore who wants
a strong nigger daddy to take you and make you into a girl. Right?  You
wanna give up your mouth and throat to my cock? How about......your
asspussy...?" He reached down to stroke my hard-on, pushing on it through
the denim of my jeans. "If you don't want this, you're fooling me. You're
fooling yourself, whiteboy. You're hard as a fuckin' rock. You want a black
daddy; you need a black daddy......" I was moaning into his mouth, tasting
his words as I was tasting his mouth, his spit, his essence. My brain was
still yelling at me about being straight, but somehow it was a softer roar
now and it was fading into the remote reaches of my psyche. I became aware
of the fingers of his other hand sliding into my ass crack, gliding up and
down between my buns. I was arching forward into his hand on my cock and
arching backward into his other hand searching for my asshole. All the
while he kept up that dominant kiss, barely allowing me to breathe. And the
dirty talk kept spewing forth as well. He called me baby, sweetie, bitch,
whiteboy, whore, faggot, sweetie pie, little girl and so forth. God he had
me hard and aching, wanting more of him, surely just as he had planned.

                The next few minutes were a blur but I soon found myself
completely naked, my clothes ripped from my body by Malik's bestial
strength. He stepped back just long enough to peel his shirt up and over
his shoulders and I heard myself gasp as I finally got an unfettered look
at his torso. It was fucking beautiful! Absolutely amazing, I'd never seen
anything like it, except in some of the fuck vids I'd seen, like on
machofucker.com. Some of the tops on that site are unbelievable and it
scared me more than a little bit at the thought of Malik being that much of
a rough and hardcore top-man. And yet at the same time, the notion of
surrendering my asshole to such a stud was almost too much to bear. I
wanted it so badly...... I slowly ran my hands through the thick matte of
lustrous dark hair covering his entire chest. He smiled down at me
wickedly, knowing that I was loving his hairy manliness. Suddenly before I
could react, he spun me around so I was facing the wall and I instantly
felt his lips on my neck and a strong hand cupping each of my buttocks. I
groaned as I raised myself up on my tiptoes, grinding my cheeks into the
erection that was tenting his casual trousers. "Yea, that's it bitch! Show
your daddy what you want. Show daddy what you need. Yea baby! You wanna
suck daddy's prick, honey? Yea you wanna swallow some Alabama black snake,
right? Cunt!  Faggot!! Open that white pussy for me fagboi! Shit, you
fuckin' need this cock, huh? Daddy's black cock? Your daddy's black
cock..."

                I was feeling positively fevered with lust now, unable to
think straight, only knowing need, desperate need. Suddenly I felt a stiff
finger probing my rosette, and within seconds, Malik had pushed in to the
second knuckle on his middle finger. I gasped, startled at the initial
penetration into my rectum. Never before had I had a man inside me and my
hole instantly tightened up, prompting Malik to groan and bite the back of
my neck aggressively. "Yea, that shit is fuckin' tight, huh baby boy? Just
like I imagined. Tight and hot and......moist. So fuckin' moist, just like
a pussy..."  I felt his finger squelching in and out, slowly stretching
me. I was ooohing and aaahing, grinding my hips and arching my back. His
fingers that had been stroking my cockette, moved up to tweak and pinch
both of my nipples, which had hardened into stiff, pointy peaks. Electric
bursts shot through me as his rough paws ravaged my tits until they were
aching for more of his touch. "Oooh yea, daddy. I... want your...... big,
black cock. I...I want to give you my...my... asshole, daddy..." I could
not believe my ears, the things that were coming out of my mouth. I sounded
like some cheap porno whore; the really amazing thing was that I meant
every word. I felt his body stiffen next to mine at my words. "Your what,
faggot? Did you call it your asshole? Gurlieboi fags like you don't have
assholes. They have a pussy. Got it gayboi?" I gulped back my humiliation.
"S...sorry, Daddy. I mean I want to give you...my...m...my......p...pussy.
My...ass...p...pussy...Daddy..."  My insides were on fire as my black daddy
finger fucked me, slow and easy. My black daddy...... It felt so weird to
even think the words let alone say them aloud. I had only ever fantasized
about this. My emotions were running wild as he methodically made me his
girl, his whining and spasming boi-gurl. It was what I had always wanted.

                Suddenly, Malik flipped me over onto the bed, rather
forcefully. He plopped down next to me after finally divesting himself of
his pants and briefs. His muscles were rippling and his dark black manhood
stood out at attention, throbbing, sawing at the air as the blood pumped
though the entire shaft. It was at least eight inches long and although I
wasn't too certain of it's thickness, I could tell it was of formidable
circumference. "Yea, baby boy. Time for you to taste your daddy. Get down
there and start lickin' my prick. Got a big surprise for you..." I found
myself licking my lips as Malik pushed me down toward his crotch and I got
a deep whiff of his musky scent. My mouth started to water involuntarily
and I could scarcely hold myself back from biting his plump cockhead in my
excitement, so badly did I want to taste him. I licked gingerly at the
droplet of precum that secreted from the purplish, blood-engorged tip of
his erection. I swirled my tongue in the tiny slit and loved the reaction I
got as his body shivered. "Yea, that's it sweetie. Get in there. Just like
that. But first, I want you to lick my black balls. Just run that fine
little licker all over my sack. I promise you'll like it, baby..." I looked
up into his eyes and saw the look of a hardened man who was used to getting
what he wanted and I obediently moved down to his huge nuts, breathing in
more of his aromatic blackness and manliness. It was overpowering, the
scent emanating from his crotch and it made my head spin with lust.

                I tentatively touched the tip of my tongue to the
cum-bloated gonad on my left. I gently laved it with oral ministrations,
lovingly taking the entire baby-maker into my mouth. The flavor was beyond
description, a mix of acrid sweat and musky tang. Different from pussy and
better, much better. From that first taste, I knew that I wanted more and
would always want more... I heartily devoured his testicles, gently biting,
sucking and licking like a man possessed...or perhaps more appropriately, a
woman possessed. Because, that's what I was feeling like at that moment,
inexplicably. I had no control over it, no explanation for it. I just felt
like Malik's woman. I got the distinct feeling that this was exactly what
the black stud had intended. I had put myself out there and had gotten
scooped up by a genuine daddy. And now I had no choice but to go through
with the entire scenario. The screaming in my head, about me being
straight...? Yea that was pretty much gone now. All I could think of was
pleasuring this man to the best of my ability.

                After several minutes of this treatment, Malik's boner
appeared ready to burst and he motioned roughly for me to move back to the
shaft. "Yea, gurl, I want you to suck me some more. I'm just about ready to
take your throat......" His gaze caught mine and I once again saw that
slightly evil smirk and I'm sure he sensed my trepidation at the thought of
deepthroating him. But it wasn't going to matter, of that I was certain. I
suckled up and down the black pipe, loving the manly taste, the feeling
like hot steel covered in smooth velvet against my lips. I could feel the
blood rushing from top to bottom, pumping strongly and fiercely. The
sentiment of my subjugation was palpable in the dank motel room and both of
us knew it. There was no doubt I was falling for this man, this black
daddy. Powerful, in control and undeniably all male. I licked for all I was
worth, sucking as much of the Mandingo manhood into my mouth as I dared,
all the while eliciting moans and grunts of satisfaction from Malik, the
man who had become my daddy. Suddenly, without warning, I felt his hand
tightly grip the back of my skull and he pushed me farther down onto his
cock, until I could just barely feel the tip grazing the back of my throat.
The sudden sound of his voice distracted me from my imminent discomfort.

                "Better get ready for my black meat, faggot, cause it's
comin'. I like to make a home for my cock in my gurls' throats and one
thing you need to understand is......it's happening, bitch..." He stated it
with the confidence and arrogance of a dominant cocksman. "Oh and one more
thing......keep your eyes on mine the whole time, faggot. I like my
girlieboi's to be looking at me while I'm burying my bone down their suck
pipe." With that, he proceeded to push further into my throat, hitting the
back and instantly causing my gag reflex to take over. Now I was gagging,
coughing, choking but he continued on and I was unable to break free from
his firm grasp on my head. "Yea that's it, baby boy. Your black daddy's
prick is halfway down your cocksucking throat. How's it feel, cunt?" I was
still gagging horribly, tears running down my cheeks as I tried in vain to
contort the muscles in my throat into a more comfortable shape or position.
But it seemed to no avail. Malik's right hand was under my chin, holding my
face upwards at an angle which kept my eyes focused directly on his.
"That's it baby boy. Just keep looking right at me..." He was smirking
arrogantly again, his eyes filled with an almost spiteful wickedness as he
watched me struggle to choke down his toughened flesh. The sounds I was
making as I took my daddy's pole down my throat were like a drowning victim
gasping for one last breath. They were incommunicable but certainly
horrific. Tears continued to pour from my eyes as I endured the brutal
treatment. And then I found my nose buried in pubic hair and I realized my
lips were stretched around the thick base of Malik's chocolate prick. And
then, he stopped.

                "You know, Shawn, it occurs to me that men shouldn't really
be cocksuckers. It's not very manly, is it? It's more of a woman's thing.
Very female, if you know what I'm saying......" He looked me square in the
eyes, his gaze hard and without any spec of mercy or leniency. He kept a
hand on my head as I began to learn fully just what the term `deepthroat'
truly meant.  His tone was almost pleasant, bordering on conversational.
"Yet here you are, my prick buried, and I do mean buried entirely down your
gullet. Course, you of all people certainly are aware of this... How do I
taste, faggot? Does your daddy's dick taste like you'd hoped or dreamed?"
He laughed at my obvious anxiety, unable to breathe or even move without
explicit consent from a black man I had met less than an hour ago. All the
while, his eyes held mine in a pitiless stare. "So since you have an
obvious desire to become a female, from now on, I think your name will
be......Shawna. Not so different from your previous name, so not too
difficult to remember, right fagboi?" I nodded slightly and moaned out a
muffled cry of acquiescence as I began to feel myself grow light-headed. It
felt like I hadn't drawn a breath in five minutes and my lungs were
burning.  "That's a good gurl. All right, Shawna baby, you've done well for
your first time cocksucking. Up you go......"

                Then I was gasping for air, sucking in lungfuls of oxygen
as his black snake slid quickly back out of me and I found myself violently
coughing up a thick, viscous mucus which also coated Malik's cock from base
to tip. I was crying now, uncontrollably, as I felt the vestiges of manhood
slipping away from me. I had to hold on to them, yet I was also shockingly
aroused from my rough handling by this extraordinarily confident and
arrogant black top. Despite the pain and how scared I was, I felt a dark
and inescapable desire taking root in the core of my being. I needed to be
his, needed to belong to Malik. I needed him to take me and make me
his......girl. I didn't want it (or did I?), I needed it. "D...daddy!
Daddy...I need...I think...I...ohhhh......" I couldn't think straight,
couldn't even form words. He lifted my face again with a firm hand under my
chin and I looked up at him once more. "Shhhhh, sweetie-pie.  Just go ahead
and tell Daddy Malik what you need. Don't think, Shawna, just tell me what
you need. I already know...I just want you to say it, so you can hear it
for yourself......"

                My brain was ready to explode from the emotional
overload. Coupled with my first cocksucking experience, I was feeling
completely overwhelmed, especially when Malik referred to me as Shawna,
pointedly trying to separate me from my male mindset. Without warning the
black brute thrust forward again, jamming his cock back down my raw
throat. "That's it, my little pet. Taste your Daddy's chocolate
fuck-stick. Yea, just like that." He spoke softly, almost soothingly as he
slowly but confidently levered his gristly flesh in and out of my oral
orifice. Here was a man used to doing this, taking young throats and
turning them into snug fuck holes exclusively for his enjoyment. It was
totally silent in the room, the only sounds being the wet slurping and
squelching cadence of my new black daddy's forceful taking of my mouth and
throat and my gagging every time he hit the back of my esophagus. My lungs
were ablaze as I sought out a breath of air, however fleeting, on each of
his up-thrusts. His hands still held my head in a firm grip, one twisted in
my hair and the other almost tenderly grasping my chin, fingers on my
cheeks as he continued to compel me to look into his eyes. "Yea, Shawna
baby, you like my flavor? You like that taste, all man......all black
man...?" I nodded as well as I could and groaned out a muffled `yes' around
my mouthful of his cock and he looked pleased. "Goddamn, you're beautiful
boy!  Fuckin' beautiful! I knew it could be like this, when I first laid
eyes on you..." He smiled down at me, a depraved grin, full of lust and the
knowledge of the power he held over me. "You're gonna make me cum if we
keep this up boy, and I don't want to just yet. So I'll tell you what. I
will let you up for air, but I gotta hear you say the words I asked for. I
want you to tell me just what you need. Tell me what a white boy like you
needs from a black daddy......"

                My mind was spinning, an emotional turmoil as I struggled
to wrap my head around the enormity of what was happening. This was more
than just a simple sexual encounter with some hot chick; this was a
lifestyle change, if I chose to go through with it. It was going to be
absolute submission to this black man, this Nubian God, whose spit-covered
erection was inches from my face. He had just violated me orally and I was
certain he had his site set ultimately on taking my ass...I mean
my...pussy... It felt very strange to think about my anal cavity in such
terms and yet...it felt so right at the same time. I blubbered out my
response in a strained, choked cry. "Daddy......I... need you... I want
to...to... give you... my b...boip...pussy......" My head drooped in shame
as I uttered those words, even as I could feel the ache and the need
pulling me in multiple directions. I continued on, stammering out the
horrifying words that echoed with finality that I was uncertain I was ready
to face. "I...want...to drink...your... cum......D...daddy... my
B...black...daddy......" I trailed off, terrified to meet his gaze, even as
I desired more than anything I could recall, to give myself over to him
fully.

                That cocksure smirk spread across his face once more, as he
listened intently to my sniveling cries as I slowly transformed into a
blackcock-slut in heat. I was sure I was far from the first white boy who
had gone through this exact scenario. Clearly this was a man who was used
to achieving his desired ends and I had little doubt that I was not his
first conquest. He had told me at the beginning of our meeting that he was
a conqueror, and now I knew precisely why he had given himself that
moniker. I was now the defeated, ready to be subjugated to the will of this
overpoweringly masculine black top. I cried a bit more as I felt my manhood
sliding further away from me with each passing moment. But somehow, I
didn't want it to stop. I wanted to give into the dark, twisted craving
that was practically eating me alive. I realized I couldn't stop it and I
would soon give in completely.

MORE TO CUM.............