Date: Sat, 13 Mar 2010 17:24:51 -0500
From: Evan Williams <classic14rider@gmail.com>
Subject: Hip Hop Hoes Part 8

This story is a work of erotic fiction. It is intended for entertainment
purposes only. It may contain racial slurs and sexual acts which some
readers may find offensive. This story is not intended to be read by minors
or by anyone who might be unduly influenced by its contents, or where
community standards prohibit this type of literature. If any of these
prohibitions apply to you, please find something else to read for your
entertainment.

*****************

Becoming a hip hop artist is a hard business. Sure there are lots of
"bitches" and money once you are well down the road, and there are fancy
cars and lots of fine clothing, but first you have to pay your dues. Black
boys, who are smart enough not to waste their lives away by working hard
and going to college, realize the advantages of building their lives around
becoming sports stars or entertainers.

Entertainment has always been black boys' strong suit. Even when they were
foolish enough to believe that education was the key to their future, they
still had to turn to entertainment to cover the costs of their "education".

I talked to a friend of mine, named Jonathan. He's a product of an
"Historically Black College," and they taught him all about how the college
made through rough economic times, back during the Great Depression.

Jonathan told me that back in the 1930s what we now call "Historically
Black Colleges" were struggling to pay their bills. They took their finest
young, black men -- freshmen and sophomores, who were between 18 and 20
years old -- and rented them out to discreet white Southern gentlemen's
clubs to raise badly needed money for their schools.

Around midnight, on Thursday and Friday nights, the boys were escorted
through the back door of the club and taken down to the basement. They
proudly wore their glee club blazers with the name of their college
embroidered across the breast pocket. They lined up, in their dress pants
and spit-shined shoes (black boys always spit-shined their own shoes and
were quite good at it. Providing this service for white men was one of the
ways black boys used to earn a living).

The boys were ushered to a stage in the basement of the club. The lights
were dim. The room was hot and filled with big, drunken cigar-smoking white
men. The boys were lined up on the stage in front of the men, coughing
because of the dense cloud of cigar smoke that filled the room.

Suddenly the lights were turned up. Spotlights flooded the stage. The boys
began to sing to entertain the school's patrons. They would sing Negro folk
songs and songs from minstrel shows. They would sing their hearts out. The
men threw pennies on the stage, encouraging the boys to keep singing.

Finally, in the tradition of the Old South, the men formed posses and
rushed the stage. The colored boys scattered, but there was no place to run
-- anyway, they knew what was coming because they had heard about the
tradition from the older students back in the dorm.

All Negro boys in certain Southern cities had to be initiated in this way;
it was part of paying off their debt to kind Southern gentlemen who were
generous enough to carry the burden of trying to educate the boys.

The white men rushed the stage and chased down the slender Negro boys who
ran into the aisles and under the bar stools.

The black boys ran and the white patrons enjoyed the chase.

Once they caught the boys they stripped them naked -- that's right. They
ripped all of that fine clothing off of the Negro boys' bodies. They
scuffed up the black boys' shoes. They tore off the boys' underwear. They
mussed the boy's slicked down nappy hair. And they exposed the colored
boys' shiny naked brown bodies to the spotlights that tried to follow the
men and keep up with all the action.

The colored boys' fine clothing had been torn off of their bodies and
tossed haphazardly on top of tables, across the counter, under chairs, and
across the floor. What use does a Negro boy have, anyway, for fine blazers
and spit-shined shoes? What need has he for fancy trousers, as if he
expects to do anything more than manual labor or, at best to work as an
office boy or in the mailroom? The boys didn't need these clothes any
more. They needed to be stripped down to their naked bodies so that they
could really be useful to the white patrons who were paying for them.

And there, in the glare of the spotlight, the colored boys were shoved to
their knees and their thick brown lips were stuffed with hard white
cocks. The boys slobbered on those cocks while the men held their heads and
plunged inside the boys' mouths with reckless abandon. Saliva drooled out
each black boy's mouth as he tried to keep up with the impassioned thrusts
of his horny white master's cock meat being stuffed down his throat.

The men grunted and groaned with pleasure as they fucked the warm, wet
mouths of their young black beneficiaries. The black boys enjoyed it too,
apparently, judging by the shameful throbbing erections that sprung up
between their smooth brown thighs. Try as they might, the boys couldn't
deny to themselves their true vocation in life.

While some of the boys were sucking their patrons' cocks, others were
forced on all fours so that their bubble butts were high in the air. Those
Negroid black bubble butts were fitting targets for somebody's throbbing
white manhood to force its entry. The men grabbed the boys by their waists
to hold them steady -- they shoved their cocks deep inside of the boys,
making them cry in agony. Deep down inside, however, every black boy knew
that he really loved it. There is no higher honor in a black boy's life
than to be fucked mercilessly by a strong, confident white man.

The men humped those nigger boys' asses, enjoying the snug fit of their
large ass cheeks around the white men's cocks. Those boys' asses were made
to be busted. The men fucked them harder and harder, without letting them
rest -- without pausing, without mercy. The boys took those cocks up their
arses, like good, obedient colored boys are supposed to. Though they cried
and groaned in pain, they knew better than to complain. This, after all, is
what they were here for. This was their contribution to the school's
fundraising drive.

These fundraising trips gave freshmen and sophomore boys vivid memories to
replay in their minds over and over once they returned to their dorms. At
their age they were horny enough as it was -- but now they had vivid
memories of hard white cocks thrust inside of their mouths, and hot white
cum oozing out of their asses. The boys simply couldn't get enough of
re-living the experience as they closed their eyes and stroked their nigger
cocks under their cum-encrusted bed sheets in the heat of the Southern
night.