Date: Sat, 13 Mar 2010 17:24:51 -0500 From: Evan Williams 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.