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Subject: {ASSM} Skateboarder Mm/interracial/humiliation
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Date: Wed, 10 Mar 2010 01:10:02 -0500
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The Skateboarder

This story is a work of erotic fiction. It is intended for
entertainment purposes only. It may contain depictions of non-
consensual sex (i.e. rape) and racial slurs 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. All publishing and reproduction rights are reserved by
the author of this story.

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

"Freeze. You're under arrest."

Those are the words that a black teenage boy least wants to hear. It
was late at night in a desolate parking lot, with plenty of "no
skateboarding signs" posted, but nobody around to enforce them.

Nobody, that is, until officer O'Malley arrived on the scene. Terrance
thought that cops should have other problems to deal with at ten
o'clock. Why should they be worried about a lone, black skateboarder
in a vacant lot?

But Officer O'Malley was not an ordinary cop.

And Terrance was not an ordinary skateboarder.

A few hours earlier Terrance and three of his white buddies raced
across the parking lot, the roar of their skateboards, along with
their shouts and screams, echoed off of the walls of the empty
buildings in this abandoned shopping center.

The boys' lean, teenage bodies flew across the asphalt, spinning
tricks, flipping sideways, nearly upside down, and riding on metal
hand rails.

Terrance's nearly shoulder-length dreadlocks were tossed by the speed
of his flight, giving him a somewhat "wild" appearance.

He loved to impress girls with his skateboarding skills, and they
loved to watch him skate. But he was a little disturbed by his secret
strange and unspoken impulses when he was around his white buddies.

Frequently Terrance caught himself watching the other boys. He would
slip into a daydream. He became lost by the trance induced by watching
their long, flowing brown and blond hair as it was tossed by the
breeze when they were performing tricks. He was mesmerized by their
smooth white skin and the ruddy complexion they got when they were
embarrassed or cold. He was enchanted by their rosy lips and the cool
depths of their blue or brown eyes.

Even though Terrance was sure he was not gay, he found himself wanting
to worship their white teenage manhood. He involuntarily got a hard-on
whenever he was around the boys. He imagined them to be the epitome of
cleanliness, rationality, order, all embodied in a package of boyish
adventure, self-confidence and toughness. "These white boys," he
thought, "are the rulers of the world."

He would slip into a daydream where he saw himself dropping to his
knees, at their feet, letting them take turns shoving their stiff
white cocks into his mouth, pumping feverishly between his thick black
lips, and bringing themselves to orgasm - shooting "white boy" jism
down Terrance's throat.

Every once in a while Terrance's buddies caught him staring. It gave
them a creepy feeling. It looked like he was harboring malicious
thoughts toward them. His facial expression, during such moments,
seemed so ... predatory.

But most of the time he seemed good-natured; just "one-of-the-guys."

They liked Terrance, but they didn't know what to make of those times
when they caught him with that "strange" expression on his face. Never
in their wildest dreams would they have guessed that this tough, agile
black boy was completely submerged in fantasies about being their
black slave and being forced to do everything he could to give them
pleasure, sucking their white cocks making them cum down his throat,
being elevated by swallowing the white boys' jism and having them
become a part of him.

Yes, Terrance was not ordinary, but neither was O'Malley.

Officer O'Malley had a reputation on the force for having a curious
interest in black people's genitalia. Male rookies who were partnered
with O'Malley for training were amazed at his habit of stopping
"suspicious" teenage black couples. O'Malley would make them get out
of their car. He would begin by "frisking" the male for weapons or
drugs. It wouldn't take O'Malley long to reach the teenager's crotch,
obviously feeling up the boy's penis and testicles.

O'Malley would grab a thick handful of nigger dick, look at the boy's
girlfriend and wink, "He takin' care of you, sweetie?" The boy would
look humiliated while the girl looked away. O'Malley would continue,
"From the size of what I'm feelin' in my hand right now I'd say he
must be takin' real good care of you."

O'Malley would keep groping the boy.

"No reason to be embarrassed, sweetie," the cop said, looking at the
young girl, "At your age I bet all you can think about is getting your
pussy stuffed with a nigger's big, black cock."

By this time the boy would be sporting a pretty good sized hard-on,
against his wishes, and O'Malley would make a point of showing the
boy's denim tent to the his girlfriend and the rookie.

O'Malley would look at the rookie, "Whaddaya think? Does this boy got
a jungle cock on him or what?" O'Malley continued fondling the boy's
balls.

Back at the station O'Malley was known to theorize about "nigger
penises."

"The way I see it, it's got something to do with evolution." This is
how he started the conversations. By the time he was deeply into them
he would have introduced a number of theories, including the laws of
thermodynamics, relativity, and Freudian psychology. He often mangled
his theories and meshed them haphazardly together.

"It goes back to slavery," he would tell the guys at that station. "I
think they was bred to have big schlongs, if you know what I mean.
It's natural selection. Survival of the fittest. It's all the stuff
Darwin onto way back in the day. Niggers had to have big dicks so they
could survive in the plantations and the African jungle."

As far as the guys at the station were concerned O'Malley just
couldn't get enough of theorizing about nigger cocks. They put up with
it though, because the man was a damn good policeman with lots of
experience. His skills and experience more than made up for his
perverted side-interests and lectures on Negro anatomy.

Still, out in the field, if you were a young black male who was
unfortunate enough to be stopped by O'Malley you would find yourself
shifting around on your feet while the white cop persisted in feeling
you up in front of your girlfriend. It would be embarrassing because,
by the end of it, O'Malley would have you sporting a killer boner,
with no place to hide and relieve yourself.

Worse, you knew how helpless and powerless you looked in front of your
girlfriend, having to allow a middle-aged white cop fondle your young
black cock to his heart's content.

Finally, O'Malley would release the boy's cock and turn his attention
to the kid's girlfriend.

The hefty Irish cop would waddle over to the black boy's girlfriend,
put a friendly had on her shoulder and ask the boy, "Okay if I frisk
her too?  You don't mind, do you? Can't be too careful when you're
looking for weapons and drugs, you know."

O'Malley had to ask the boy for permission because it was against
regulations for a male cop to frisk a female suspect, except in an
emergency - and the rookie cop was watching and learning. O'Malley
wouldn't want to steer the rookie wrong.

But just to make sure he had the couple's assent O'Malley would spell
out their options. "Look, you can either let me frisk the girl, and
then we can all be on our merry way if she comes up clean, or I can
haul her down to the station to be frisked by a female cop, which
means I'd have to haul you along with us and have your car impounded -
at which point we might just request a court order to search the car,
and who knows what we might find? So it's all up to you. I wouldn't
wanna do anything without your consent."

Invariably the couple would agree to allow the cop to frisk the girl.
Being teenagers, they usually had at least marijuana in the car, maybe
alcohol as well. If they could get off with just the humiliation of
being frisked by the cop, rather than go to jail for drugs and
underage drinking, why not just go ahead and let the cop get his
jollies?

The boy would look down at the pavement, in shame and humiliation, as
the cop groped the young girl's body, feeling her breasts, "Mmmmm,
nice titties she's got there," and sticking his hands inside her
slacks to feel her pussy.

"Ahhhh, nice and moist down there," the cop would wink at the
boyfriend. "Seems like she's been takin' good care of you too, huh?"

O'Malley reached inside the girl's panties and massaged her clit.
"Does your boyfriend like fucking this nice, wet piece of nigger
pussy? Huh? Does he enjoy it?"

The cop would finger fuck the girl's pussy and occasionally catch the
boy sneaking guilty lustful glances at the action. Even in his loose-
fitting jeans, the sight of the cop molesting the boy's girlfriend
would make the boy horny. Before long, he would be sporting a guilt-
ridden hard-on. The black boy's face was covered with shame at the
evidence that he was enjoying this act of public humiliation.

O'Malley continued to feel inside of the poor girl's wet pussy, his
hot breath was heavy on the side of her face. "Does your boyfriend
fuck you good and hard? Huh sweetie? Does he fuck you good and hard?"

So, this was O'Malley's reputation, and when he rolled up in his
cruiser and saw Terrance skateboarding in the desolate parking lot he
knew what he had to do.

"Hold still while I frisk you," the cop said. He pushed Terrance, face-
forward, toward the police cruiser. The boy's wrists were handcuffed
behind his back. O'Malley went through the ritual of patting the boy
down, emptying the kid's pockets, and taking an inordinate amount of
time feeling the boy's crotch and his ass crack.

O'Malley grabbed the boy's cock, through his jeans, and rubbed the
entire length of the boy's thickening dick. He reached inside the back
of the boy's loose-fitting trousers and felt the boy's bulbous black
ass. He reached further between the boy's legs and played with the
lad's low-hanging balls.

When the cop was tired of standing up he told Terrance, "Okay, get in
the back of the cruiser." He shoved the boy inside.

Terrance was alarmed. He had heard stories about black men being
forced to get in police cars and being beaten up or even shot.
Terrance realized there were no witnesses; the cop could say anything
he wanted in this situation. He could literally get away with murder.

But the colored boy scooted to the far end of the back seat of the
car, to try to get as far away from the white cop as possible. He
spread his legs because he was too tall for the space he was in. Much
to the boy's alarm, the cop scooted in beside him.

"Okay, let's see what you've got under that shirt."

O'Malley grabbed the front of the boy's shirt and ripped it open,
sending the buttons flying. There Terrance sat, bare-chested in the
back of the man's squad car. O'Malley gasped at the chocolate
smoothness of the boy's skin.

"Oh, to be young; to be a teenager again," the cop gasped. He ran his
hands over the boy's small, dark nipples. He whisked his open hand
over Terrance's hairless black body. The boy's chest and his arms
glistened with sweat. He skin seemed to glow - healthy and vibrant.

The cop looked down at Terrance's spread legs and grabbed the front of
the boy's pants. "Now, let's take a look at that nigger crotch you got
there."

A wave of anxiety swept over Terrance. Here he was, a black boy,
helpless and handcuffed, uncomfortably seated in the back of a police
car in a desolate parking lot, his shirt ripped open, his bare teenage
chest fully exposed, his legs spread, and this middle-aged white
police officer was about to rip his trousers open. He knew he was
fully at the white cop's mercy.

Terrance wondered what the man had in mind, and whether or not it
would be painful, some sort of torture.

O'Malley ripped the boy's trousers open. He looked at the boy's red
and white candy cane striped boxer shorts and was amused. "Leave it up
to a nigger to even wear colorful boxer shorts. You people dress like
court jesters and clowns," he laughed.

O'Malley pulled the boy's trousers down below his ashy knees.
Terrance's thighs looked strong and firm, with gentle whiffs of curly
dark hair. O'Malley grabbed the lump in the boy's boxer shorts and
felt the thickness of Terrance's cock. He gently squeezed the boy's
cock a few times, getting the feel of it before fully exposing it. He
kneaded Terrance's cock like a baker kneading a lump of fresh dough.
The boy's cock started to stiffen.

The smell of the black boy's nearly naked, sweaty body filled the
squad car, giving O'Malley a throbbing erection. He chided the boy,
"Does your daddy know where you are right now? Does your mama know?"

The cop peeled down Terrance's boxer shorts, exposing the boy's thick,
long nigger cock - a dark slab of jungle meat, ready to breed some of
those slave bitches in the ghetto. The dark bush of pubic hair over
the boy's cock filled the air with sexual aroma.

O'Malley rested his hand under the black boy's cock and testicles, and
lifted them. The contrast between the boy's brown skin and the white
cop's hand was striking. O'Malley gently fondled the boy, aware that
the kid's manhood was entirely in his hands - there was nothing the
black teenager could do to stop him.

He looked at the boy's baby face in the dim light of the squad car,
Terrance's thick dark lips barely open, his dread locks gently
brushing the sides of his frightened dark face, whiffs of baby hair on
his cheeks and above his lips, trying to become a mustache and
sideburns but still too immature to do more than cast a faint shadow.

O'Malley couldn't resist the temptation any longer; he lowered his
head and started sucking the boy's cock.

Terrance tried to pull back, but he was trapped. He mumbled "no," but
the white cop refused to listen. Terrance tried to resist letting this
man's mouth suck his thick black cock - Terrance thought that just by
allowing the act would make him a homosexual. For the rest of his life
he'd have to live with the thought that he allowed another man, not a
woman, suck his cock. It would be too much shame to bear, even though
he really didn't have much of a choice.

O'Malley's hot, wet mouth enveloped the teenager's stiffening cock.
Terrance never felt anything as pleasurable as this in his life. His
cock was now a fully erect, throbbing sausage of black manhood in the
determined white officer's mouth.

To Terrance's utter surprise, and utter horror, he was actually
enjoying it. Terrance let out a loud involuntary sigh as the white cop
bobbed his head up and down between the boy's black thighs.

Terrance made soft, barely audible protests, "no...no...no..," while
grinding his crotch in the nasty middle-aged white man's mouth.

"I don't wanna be no faggot," the teenager gently protested as the
officer ran his wet tongue up and down the length of the boy's cock,
"I don't wanna be no faggot."

Terrance breathed heavily in sexual ecstasy. His ashy black knees
knocked together with uncontrollable pleasure. He bit his lip. His
eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Now the boy was whimpering while grinding hard in the cop's mouth, "no
... no ... no..."

But every other part of the boy's body was saying, "yes."

His muscular brown thighs pushed up against the cop's face. The boy
lifted his sweaty, black naked buttocks off of the seat of the car so
he could thrust harder in the older man's mouth.

"no ... no ... no ... no ...," the boy's sensual and plaintive protests
filled squad car, but to no avail. It only made the cop suck him
harder. The black boy's arms were twisted uncomfortably in the
handcuffs, but he wasn't feeling any pain - he was too absorbed in the
sensations of the white man's tongue and lips on his dick.

The black boy gasped. He breathed heavily. His smooth brown belly and
chest heaved up and down, covered with sweat.

O'Malley felt the pressure building up in the shaft of his captive's
cock. The nigger's cock was now twitching in the policeman's mouth.
The boy's breath became heavy and labored.

He managed a few more futile protests to save face, "no ... no...," but he
couldn't hold back any longer.

The boy exploded in a geyser of hot cum. The thick, sticky white
liquid filled O'Malley's mouth tasting like clam chowder. The boy's
body shook uncontrollably as he emptied his balls down the older man's
throat in wave after wave of uncontrollable orgasm.

O'Malley swallowed all of it.

He watched the boy's shiny dark body, glistening with sweat, as every
one of Terrance's muscles strained with sexual pleasure - pumping his
inexhaustible teenage load down the white man's throat.

O'Malley gulped it down. He grabbed the boy's ass, and squeezed his
smooth black butt cheeks.

He swallowed more of the boy's cum, and spread the boy's ass, feeling
inside his sweaty black crack, fingering the boy's tight hole, taking
total possession of him.

The boy let out a final gasp of exhaustion and collapsed on the seat
of the car.

O'Malley straightened up so that he could fully savor the moment, the
nearly naked black teenager, with his glowing dark skin, sprawled
across the back seat of the officer's car, his comical boxer shorts
bunched below his knees.

It was clear, once again, that Officer O'Malley had unrivaled skills
at crime prevention.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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