Date: Fri, 21 Dec 2012 02:18:07 -0800 (PST)
From: pat roberts <philip_effiong@yahoo.com>
Subject: White Sunset 23

White Sunset 23


Racial Retraining Cases: Mathieu Chagrin (Part 1)



The years of development of the Racial Retraining concept had led, as we
have seen , to the growth of a strong purposeful cadre of black
professionals determined to implement the tenets of the programme. The
Report summarised in the previous chapter presented the current position
nationally. Mention is made in the Report of two significant other
developments - the increased importance of commercial implementers -
working in close harmony with their official counterparts, and secondly the
growth of the programme internationally, where such large commercial
concerns were of especial importance.

We will look here at one case history to illustrate both of these features
- that of the whiteboy Mathieu Chagrin.  Again, the case is real, based on
extensive interviws with the subject and others, carried out by black
student volunteers on the Racial Retraining Programme, some of whom had the
most intimate knowledge of the subject at various stages of his
retraining. The interviews are held in the central archives of the Racial
Retraining Department. No events have been invented or altered, though one
or two names of principal authority figures have been changed to respect
their privacy.



The Racial Retraining of Mathieu Chagrin


Mathieu is a French boy living in a town not far from Paris. He is a
sparky, some would say cocky, white boy with what his teachers say is
"something of an attitude".  Not a bad boy, but full of life, bright,
beautiful in a truly boyish way, and good at sports. Until the age of 14 he
has attended a private boys' school for the privileged, near London.  He is
from a very good and wealthy French family, and has many similarly
privileged white friends, both in England and France.

He has never known his true father, who died when he was three years old.
When he was six years old his mother remarried, to her family's disquiet,
to an African employee in her husband's firm, Kojo Agualiso. Kojo was a
security guard. He also played for the firm's football team, and had been,
informally, her personal trainer in the company gym. Though not tall, he
was strongly built proud of his impressive ebony physique. She was
impressed too. At the time she was 38, he 22. She died three years later,
knocked over and killed by a speeding police car, as she was walking to
have her hair done, in the quiet town where they lived. The family, and
especially Kojo and Mathieu, were distraught.

Mathieu had grown to love his new father, since he married his mother, and
happily called him Papa.  Kojo loved the boy, and after she died he was
fond of saying that he was the main reminder of his dead wife. He had
always taken some pride in being the boy's black step- father, and liked to
see the reaction of local people to their relationship when they saw him
with the boy. Some were intrigued; others tried to hide, with greater or
lesser degrees of success, their disapproval and doubt. People at times had
difficulty concealing their surprise, and suspicious glances followed them
at the lido - the young white boy in the care of that strong, muscled Black
man.

When Mathieu was young, because his wife was often late back from work,
Kojo had been the one who had made sure his meals were prepared, had bathed
him, and read to him every night, cuddled him before sleep, and generally
made a fuss of him. After his wife died he became more possessive of the
boy, determined to do all he could to make him happy, and above all to give
him the best possible education. The nine year old soon got over his grief
for his Mama, and was happy and relaxed with his Papa. Kojo combined his
paternal duties with the onerous but immensely fulfilling business of
taking over, not only management of the family firm, but of the very
extensive estates, most of which latter work had been done personally by
his wife. He particularly enjoyed the deference he was given by the
managers; all of them white Frenchmen, who previously seemed unaware of his
presence in a room. Board meetings were a particular pleasure, where he had
senior management waiting on his every word, competing to impress him.

When Mathieu was 11 years old, he discussed the future with the growing
boy, and after a visit to UK together, (where he was also able to see the
England / France rugby match at Twickenham) they agreed he should attend an
English boarding school in Sussex, partly to improve his English ensuring
he grew up bi-lingual, partly because Kojo was Ghanaian and a great
supporter of English manners and customs.  It was a prestigious school,
with boys from England's most privileged families, and Mathieu and Kojo
liked it very much; it had great facilities, and both liked the very
English atmosphere. Such an education could only help Mathieu in his future
life. When he transferred there, driven all the way, and through the
Channel Tunnel, by Papa's chauffeur in their large new Mercedes, the boy
took to the school like a duck to water. He was one of the most popular
boys in his class, very good if not brilliant academically, and he picked
up the language quickly.

He was not always the easiest boy to teach, he was too quick with a funny
or cheeky response, and didn't in general like being told what to do.  He
got away with it through his French boyish charm, which he could turn on at
will, and because he was difficult to dislike.  He was a good athlete,
always on the track or in the field in the evenings.  He adored swimming
each morning, and was by the age of 13 Captain of the school's junior
Rugby.  The reports to his Papa, who he went home to each vacation, were a
pleasure to read, despite the comments about his attitude problems in
class.  He had grown into a handsome, confident boy, with a winning smile,
a smooth swimmer's body, and loads of self-confidence. He found himself
admired by many of the boys, and covertly by at least some of the masters.

Returning for the long vacation in the summer when he turned 14 he was
given news. Big news!  First, his Papa was to remarry, to another white
woman - someone Mathieu had seen only a few times as a visitor to their
home. But secondly, and of even more importance to him, Papa wanted him to
transfer to a new school.  Not only that, it was a school in Africa!  In
Congo!  Mathieu for once was speechless. He took the information pack
without a word from Papa, and went to his room without a word, and threw
the brochures angrily against the wall. He lay on his bed shirtless and, as
he did habitually, mindlessly pulled his cock out of his jeans and began to
forget his troubles by jacking off.

Forty minutes later, a little calmed, he washed away the sticky drying cum
on his belly, torso and even chin and retrieved the brochures. Reluctantly,
naked on his bed, and playing gently with his cock, he began to read:

It was quite a new school of some 400 boys, and the brochures were
expensively printed on glossy paper with lots of pictures. The
International Africa Academy, he read, had been set up by a multi- national
outfit called African Resurgence as an off-shoot of a group of schools they
ran in Southern Africa. It was an English-medium school, all boys, and
multi-faith, multi-national and multi-racial.  The brochure showed great
facilities, happy boys (all of whom seemed to be black) in smart school
uniforms, and snappy sports gear. The school was, it said, truly
international in character with boys from 20 African countries.  They were
now actively seeking well qualified European boys (from France, UK Germany
and Holland) to increase the multi-racial nature of the education they
provided. Most of their non-black boys (as one brochure put it) were at
present from Southern Africa and Kenya.

A dedicated unit in the school was charged with ensuring that boys from
outside Africa would receive appropriate induction, care and support. Each
non-black boy was allocated his own personal support group, or Pod, of
black students, to help him to integrate into the school. The teaching
staff was truly international, being drawn from eight African countries,
with volunteer teachers, the brochure said, from Sweden, Holland and UK.

Over dinner that night, as they were served by the elderly white butler,
Mathieu made a determined attempt to change his Papa's mind.  At one point
he said that if his Papa wanted him in a multi-racial school, something
which he truly supported, then his present school was very
multi-racial. They had as many as six black boys in the school; what more
could be expected, after all it's a school for top boys.

"And we have a few Indians and Malays or something..."  Papa didn't seem
impressed.

Father and son discussed long and hard, but it was clear that Papa had made
up his mind. Mathieu, wanting to be a good son for his father, eventually
agreed that he "would give it a go", but if it didn't work out he'd be
back. To his astonishment Papa told him he would therefore be flying out
with Air France the next night - it was all booked in advance and he just
awaited Mathieu's agreement, now given.  Kojo's car and driver would take
him to the airport.

Mathieu was devastated - he wouldn't be able to say goodbye to any of his
friends, or even tell them where he was going; his bag wasn't packed, he
protested, not even with underwear!

Nothing needed to be done now, his Papa reassured him, and to save him time
and worry Mathieu would travel just with hand baggage.  Everything was
being sent on by a very efficient air courier service.  In the interim the
school said they could provide anything that Mathieu might need.

Mathieu became unreasonable, and went into one of his sulks.

"Look Mathieu your school report says how difficult you are when you don't
get you own way.  This is one reason I'm doing it this way.  You have to
learn that you sometimes have to accept another way to the one you would
have chosen. You have to accept that your older black Papa knows best how
to make decisions for his white schoolboy son."

Matthieu pouted and made a rude noise through pursed lips - he didn't know
why Papa was bringing black and white into it.

"There's another reason Mathieu.  The school principal reported to me last
month, with great sadness, that on at least three occasions this year you
absconded at night and met up with girls at a local bar. Your behaviour
there was shocking, and it was reported to the school.  I understand you
went there with several other boys on different occasions."

"You were also caught, and this is difficult for me to say, you were caught
masturbating with another boy, in the showers, a practice which I and the
school absolutely deplore."

"But Papa that's all bullshit! I was in there with Jean-Louis, the Black
boy from Martinique, after one of our usual wrestling matches. You know the
one I told you I beat in the wrestling finals last term. He gets hard every
time we wrestle Papa and says it's just one of those things. Well, I saw
him like that and I was .... hm... well, ok we were just fooling
around. Then that berk of a cleaner came in and saw us and reported us to
the Head. Coach told the Head that we were innocent of anything more than
boyish clowning, and they dropped the matter Papa. It's just not fair for
that to be brought up again! I am not fucking gay!"

"Don't use that language to me Mathieu!" Kojo remembered Mathieu's
excitement at winning over the Black boy, and had privately dearly wished
that the Black had won! It might have been just what Mathieu needed, to be
firmly put in his place!

"They are not expelling any of you, for these misdemeanours, but you will
all be moved to other more secure accommodation for the safety of the other
boys.  That's all very well, but it's not good enough for me, Mathieu.  I
won't have it - you have shamed me! You are going to a new school.  This
school!  I will have your things sent on."  He slapped the brochure down on
the table.  "In Africa you will find that such things are not allowed!
Schoolboys are not able to get out to bars and drink alcohol with loose
girls!"

Mathieu was stunned. This was a bolt from the blue. He was deeply ashamed.
Despite his efforts to keep a grown-up attitude, he started to sob.

* * *

There was, of course, more to it than that.  A month ago Kojo had met with
his lawyer, Kwame Ogondi, a well-known Ghanaian lawyer and black activist.
London based, Kwame, who handled all his personal affairs, had come to the
house to see him. Kwame was a close friend and often came to stay for some
shooting and usually the visits were very pleasant affairs. This meeting
was at Kwame's request, and wasn't a pleasant one.

He had, Kwame said, been re-examining the will of Kojo's former wife,
Mathieu's mother.  Whilst Kojo was happily getting into the swing of
running everything and enjoying his good fortune, he, Kwame, had to remind
him that time was running out.  The tide would soon turn against him.  The
chickens would come home to roost.  And there was one particular chicken -
the boy Mathieu.

At the age of 16, Kwame reminded him, the will laid down that Mathieu, her
sole child, would gain a place on the board of the family trust.  At 18
years of age he would inherit everything. Kojo, as her second husband,
would have nothing.  Not unless the boy wanted him to.  Kojo, who had
blotted this trivial detail from his mind, was appalled.  To be in the
hands of a sexually rampant, pubescent boy, with nothing to call his own!
Not now, after he had made his name on the Paris Bourse, and in the City of
London, and with an Anglo-French group of wealthy black businessmen in
particular. He was even being mooted for an award from the French
Government, who was already using his name and his influence in their
efforts to recapture support in the black suburbs of Paris.

He was not going to allow this to all come to an end, and be humiliated by
a mere teenager.  "And a gay white boy at that" Kwame Ogondi had added
poisonously "just look at the way he perfumes himself and dresses! No black
boy would behave like that!  And all that wanking he does every night - I
would beat my boys if I ever saw them doing that! He's a typical product of
white degeneracy! He needs to be under very firm control, Kojo!"

In fact, Mathieu though taking any opportunity to exercise his cock wasn't
any gayer than most boys of his age.  His father, distressed by the way
things were going, needed to keep a closer eye on him.  He knew a lot about
surveillance cameras from his previous work. He had placed concealed micro
cameras everywhere in his room and bathroom, and had placed the monitors in
his study. The prolonged masturbatory sessions, with Mathieu naked on the
bed, or in the bathroom, contorting his white cock, had appalled him,
though he had kept the recordings and did find them secretly very erotic.

They discussed long into the night over a great deal of the best French
cognac. The first stage, said Kwame, was to get the boy away from Europe,
and to make him effectively "disappear" in terms of the law.  He of course,
as an officer of the court, must know nothing about it. Even better, Kwame
was adamant, he should be removed to a place at some distance from home,
where the tendencies of racial superiority, immorality and degeneracy he
had noted in the boy, would be rubbed out.

He had seen an ad recently in Black Business Times which he had followed
up, and it seemed to provide the answer. He passed a file to Kojo, headed
"African Resurgence".

Kojo had subsequently been in touch, confidentially, with the firm's London
representative and had then received a visit from one of the African
Directors, Mr John Obongo. Obongo had looked with interest at photos of
Mathieu, and of some videos of family life.  He was particularly taken with
a video of the boy playing at the pool in scant blue Speedos and photos of
him in the same attractive attire. The photos showed off to perfection
Mathieu's long curly brown hair, his beautiful facial profile, his
green-brown eyes, and his hairless, developing swimmer's body. Kojo noticed
Obongo was developing a prominent bulge in his jeans.

"I have something else which may be of interest" said Kojo, "and which
shows some of the problems that I have to cope with in the boy".

For the next half hour the two Africans viewed the tapes of Mathieu
pleasuring himself in his room and bathroom. Obongo drank in, as his Papa
had earlier, the boy's silky almost hairless body, the bush of brown curly
hair around his cock, the bouncing balls, his long and strong uncircumcised
white dick and the impressive ejaculations which at Obongo's request Kojo
replayed in slow motion.  Almost best of all Obongo saw, as Mathieu turned
to wipe his cum laden stomach and chest, his superb white bubble butt.

John Obongo made a strangled request to visit the loo for a pee, and
re-emerged calmer after five minutes.

Kojo had, as promised, sent a copy of the swimming pool video and photos to
Obongo "for the school authorities to view".  At the last moment he
included a copy of the masturbatory evidence.

Later that week he received another visit from Obongo and Kwame. Kojo
pulled out his finest cognac and the three Africans sat in his study to
discuss their vision of what Kwame termed "Boy Mathieu's future".

It all seemed possible, said Obongo, though he stressed that Kojo would
have to harden his heart against the boy; he would have to be very tough
with Mathieu and himself, to get this through.  And best certainly to do it
well before his new marriage.  By that time all trace of the boy would be
wiped out from the family home. The boy would be on the road to a new life,
guided sympathetically but firmly, by African hands.

The boy would have to lose all rights. That would mean he would become a
non-person in French and international judicial terms.  There was a way, he
was assured, where the boy would revert to being "property" rather than a
judicial person, at the age of 16. He could be Kojo's property which Kojo
wanted, but leased back to the Company (Kojo's name used at the school
would be dangerous for the whole enterprise) the Company into whose hands
he must now be entrusted, would deal with all the legal niceties, which
Kwame would oversee. Full slavery was of course impossible but " Indentured
Service" to the Company in Congo would have no escape clause, it would mean
he would not need his passport which could be destroyed, along with his
other papers of identity, and he would remain in any country only on his
Company Certification. The same Certification was given for example to the
Chairman's horses.  He would at that point quietly leave education and work
for the company as a "chattel", under a new given name.

"Your Company and your Estates would then be secure, Mr Agualiso!"

"He will need to be buffed up in terms of bulk and muscular strength early
on, in order that he can be utilised for hard labour", said Kwame with some
glee.

"In practice, said Obongo, "our Racial Retrainers believe they can have him
downgraded well within the two years, provided full control over him is
quickly vested in our Company.  Resurgence Africa, through its many
subsidiaries, including New Africa Academy, already has a lot of experience
of doing this sort of thing, and we have on our staff some superbly
competent and effective Retrainers. At the same time we have on our Board
the Great if not the Good from many African states, and they would be
excellent business contacts for you Mr Agualiso. Who knows, you might at
some point be invited to join the Board?

"Oh good!, said Kojo, " I now want a really good job done on him! Your
people must pull out all the stops because I warn you he will be a
difficult boy to budge. I don't want that white boy to let me down again!"

Mathieu's Papa, much to his own surprise, when he heard the plans for his
white son's enslavement, didn't feel pity or shame. Rather he is
extraordinarily excited by the thought and prospect.  Pleasurable pictures
of Mathieu, in various stages of his impending retraining, pop up in his
mind.

He had, he realised now, spoiled the boy.  When little, he had obeyed his
Papa's every command, and Kojo had loved him for the sweet, pliable boy
that he was.  He was a sort of "must have" accessory for such an upwardly
mobile young black. I could enjoy him exclusively. Now his energies are
going elsewhere, he is already marginalising me, and in a few years he will
be doing what all white males left to themselves do, pushing me out.  Well
we'll see about that, my lad! Time you learned that a new order is coming!

"Will I get reports on him?  On his, so to speak, progress?"

"Oh all that can be done, including videos if you wish.  We both know how
well the little white brat comes out in those!  In a few years," said Kwame
with a smile, " he will be a naked, white labourer, in the middle of dense
jungle, used for his strength and sexual appetites, locked up and chained
when not working, and under 24 hour guard.  I can assure you he will not
lack for company, though it won't be the privileged effete white boys he
seems to like. If, as I think, he's gay, well that will be most useful
where he is going!  If he isn't he will need to be quick in learning that
every black boy and man can use him in any way they want!"

"I don't want him to be disabled or killed or anything like that!" said
Kojo hurriedly "I just want him to learn his place!"

"Of course.  But if you want your boy's re-education to be complete, you
must understand that some...how I can term it.... adjustments might be
necessary to ensure success."

"Yes I imagine that.  But nothing unreasonable."

"Don't worry he will be too valuable a property for the Company to allow
him to be damaged.  Their whole profitability is dependent on fully
utilising their white boy assets, or should I say asses?

The three blacks laughed, and each poured themselves another large Remy
Martin.

"Here's to BoyMathieu!" said Kwame, "And to the delicious future which
awaits him!"

"To French White Boys - our precious new cargo!" said Obongo, "Bottoms Up!"

"To Agualiso Inc" added Kojo and its future collaboration with Resurgence
Africa

* *