The sins of the fathers
The large jeep, lurching along the bumpy forest road, swerved on a turn and braked in front of a small log house.
"We're here," said the handsome brunet at the wheel, relaxing back into his seat.
"Are you sure, Sam?" a beautiful blonde leaned forward from the back seat, "such a backwater."
"These are our lands, sis," Sam clicked a lighter and lit a cigarette, "the Cartwrights' hunting lodge, our only inheritance."
"Smoke out the window," said the black girl sitting next to Sam disapprovingly, "or better yet, get out of the car. We need to bring in the things."
"As you wish, Mistress," Sam jokingly threw up his hands
and the black girl shoved his shoulder."I'll help Judy," a voice came from the back seat belonging to a tall athlete with a crew cut of light hair.
"And I'll help you, bro," grinned the black guy sitting next to him, suddenly scooping up the squealing blonde and pulling her from the car. Holding her by the thighs so that his black hand slid under her miniskirt, he carried the laughing Judy towards the house. The white guy followed them, dragging bags. The black girl exchanged a glance with Sam.
"I'm not carrying you," she smirked, "don't hope for it. Get the bag with the gear."
"As you say, Melissa," Sam replied seriously now, straining to pull a large bag from the trunk and following the black girl up the steps.
Inside, the house turned out to be even smaller than it looked from the outside—one large room and a couple of additions—a kitchen and a bathroom. The furniture consisted of a large double bed, several chairs, and a writing desk.
"A modest country house for a family of planters," Melissa smirked.
"After the Civil War, everything fell into disrepair," Sam said, "The Cartwrights sold the plantation and the estate. This house remained because no buyer could be found for it."
"You have no right to complain about fate," said Melissa, "your family isn't poor even now."
"The Cartwrights profited from the blood and sweat of slaves," the girl flushed, "and now—from the votes of racists in our town. Nothing changes..."
"Some things have changed," said the African-American, putting his arm around the blonde's waist, "today we'll get even for those slaves your ancestors tormented."
"Does anyone even live around here?" asked the white guy, making the bed with the bedding they'd brought in bags, "we'll be in trouble if we're seen."
"There are about a dozen farms eight miles to the north," Mike shrugged, "full degenerates live there, interested in nothing but their pigs and their moonshine, and they only read the Bible, and that syllable by syllable. I don't think they stray far from their barns."
"Well, screw them," Judy said impatiently, "let's have a snack."
They snacked on the sandwiches and chips they'd brought, washing them down with canned beer. Then Melissa announced that she and Sam needed to "take a walk" into the woods. Left in the house were the black Jamal, Judy, and her fiancé Mike. Sam had already brought Jamal and Melissa to the house before, where they had indulged in depraved and sweet "games" together. Sam had drawn his sister into these "games," and she had drawn her fiancé, forming a black-and-white community united by a love for unusual sex, "cuckolding," and domination. It was their most forbidden secret, allowing them to break free from the hypocritical atmosphere of their conservative southern town.
"We're here," said Melissa, stepping out onto a small clearing surrounded by mighty trees. Among them stood out two young oaks, standing close together.
"Build a fire there," said Melissa, pointing between the trees, and Sam rushed to gather kindling, cursing under his breath when he stumbled or scraped his hands. The black girl, however, felt no discomfort—the moonlight was enough for her eyes. Sitting on the trunk of a fallen beech, she pulled chains, a rubber gag, and a long whip with a horsehair tip from the bag.
"Everything is ready, Mistress," Sam stood before her with an expression of extreme obsequiousness. Melissa looked at the small fire between the two oaks and smiled—white teeth flashed on her black face like the snarl of a hungry panther.
"You like this, bitch?" Melissa squeezed his white cock and balls, "don't you, Sammy?"
"Yes, Mistress," Sam exhaled, alternately blushing and paling as black fingers kneaded his flesh, "I rea... lly like it."
"Good," Melissa removed her hand and slapped his skinny ass, "get in position!"
"Are you ready, my little mouse?" the girl whispered in Sam's ear.
"Yes, Mistress," he exhaled, "I am ready to bear the punishment for the sins of the fathers!"
"Good," Melissa stepped back, uncoiling the whip, "until all white people repent for their sins, I will take reparations from your skin!"
"As you say, Mistress!!!" Sam involuntarily cried out as the first whip stroke wrapped around his waist with a crack. He restrained himself on the second, though Melissa aimed so the whip lashed his genitals, knocking down his erection. The next blow landed on his back, then his thighs, wrapping around to his stomach. Only five strokes were enough for Sam to stand still—by the sixth, he began to writhe, trying to escape the stinging blows. Stumbling, he fell into the fire and howled, jumping back and hanging from the swaying branches. And immediately, in mid-jump, his ass was caught by another whip stroke.
"Does it hurt, Sammy-boy?" Melissa's eyes gleamed bloodthirstily, "we got this day after day, our whole damned lives, so your ancestors could count their money."
"I deseeeerved it," Sam howled, "please, beat me, punish me, Mistress."
"You did," another scarlet welt appeared on the white skin, "and rest assured, I will punish you!"
A new scarlet welt wrapped around his thighs, and Sam, unable to hold back any longer, screamed in pain. Melissa, with grim determination, continued to whip him, alternating blows to different parts of his body: thighs, back, buttocks. Her trained arm knew no fatigue, her eyes gleamed predatorily when blood appeared. Aroused, she felt like a black angel of vengeance, punishing a white man for all the sufferings of her race. But Sam also gratefully accepted the punishment, feeling like a bloody sacrifice atoning for the sins of his fathers. His body became covered in welts and bruises; he thrashed, swinging on the branches so hard they seemed about to break; his legs were covered in blisters from the hot coals; tears streamed from under the gag, but from his lips, bitten bloody, words of gratitude escaped.
Suddenly, the hail of blows ceased.
"Such a good white boy," a whisper sounded near his ear, "now, don't cry. Just a little bit left."
Sam cried out again as sharp pain sliced his flesh from his left collarbone to his right buttock. Before he could recover, similar pain crossed the first mark left on him. Sam cried and screamed as Melissa used a large hunting knife to carve an oblique cross with stars on his back—the flag of the slave-owning Confederacy.
"Now that's all," Melissa gently stroked the ravaged back, "I'm proud of you, Sam."
"Thank you, Mistress," a weak smile appeared on the guy's lips.
"Wait a little," Melissa whispered, "Jamal will come soon, and you will finally atone for the sins of your race. At least for tonight."
"I'm ready to do this every day," said the bloodied white youth.
"I know, Sammy," Melissa smiled. The knife blade pressed against his sacrum, and a stream of blood rushed into the cleft between his trembling buttocks. Sam felt something hard at the entrance to his anus, a sharp pain pierced him—Melissa had driven an anal plug into him.
A soft laugh, quickening footsteps, and Sam realized the girl had left him.
When the door closed behind Sam and Melissa, Jamal turned to the white couple.
"Should I wait?" he said, smiling at Judy.
The white girl gave Mike a meaningful look, and he obediently sat on a chair in the corner of the room. Judy seductively smiled at the black man and began to take off her clothes. First, her blouse flew to the floor, followed by a lacy bra, leaving her milky-white breasts with cherry-red nipples unprotected. Next, her short skirt and panties ended up on the floor. Now naked, the slender girl spun around deftly, showing her round ass and long legs to the approvingly whistling black man. She blew an air kiss to Mike, who had shrunk into the corner on his chair, then looked into Jamal's black eyes. He beckoned Judy to him, and she, trembling with lust, got down on all fours and, lustfully swaying her behind, crawled to the black man. Feeling her pussy moisten, Judy knelt, looking with lust-glazed eyes into the black man's face as she unbuckled his belt. She pulled down Jamal's pants along with his underwear, and her blue eyes widened as a large, circumcised cock swayed before her face. Reaching out, Judy delightedly kissed the head, licking off drops of pre-cum. Slowly, as if performing a sacred rite, she began to cover the black flesh with kisses—from the head to the huge balls and back, paying homage to the black serpent, simultaneously as its priestess and its sacrifice.
Finishing her ritual, she kissed the swollen head again and then, opening her mouth wide, took the black cock into it. A heavy hand came down on the back of her head, forcing her lips to slide along the mighty flesh swelling in her tender mouth. She moved faster, squeezing her lips tighter, and soon felt the huge cock tense in her mouth, releasing streams of seed into her throat. She swallowed every last drop and, releasing the cock from her mouth, turned to Mike. He sat in the corner, having unzipped his fly and stroking his cock. Noticing Judy's gaze, he smiled at her, and she smiled back.
"I love you," Mike's gaze said to her.
"And I love you," Judy silently replied to him, simultaneously licking the black cock clean. Finished, she rose to her feet and began unbuttoning Jamal's shirt, covering his muscular chest and flat stomach with defined abs with kisses. Even standing on tiptoe, Judy barely reached the black giant's shoulder. Suddenly, she felt Jamal grab her ass and lift her, impaling her on his organ.
"Ooooh!!!" Judy moaned.
"Like that, white bitch?!" Jamal said, "take it!"
Not giving her time to recover, holding the white girl aloft, Jamal began moving his hips, impaling the slut on his mighty flesh. Judy moaned, laughed, cried, feeling the powerful piston moving inside her, and she herself, as if mad, rode him. Her legs crossed at Jamal's waist, pulling him deeper inside.
"Yeah, bitch!" Jamal rasped, "you're the hottest white whore I know!"
"Ooooh!!! Fuck me, nigger!!! Pierce me with your cock!"
She was going crazy from all of it: the powerful black flesh in her pussy, from how the huge muscles on Jamal's arms bulged as he held her, from his smell, which she sensed pressing her nipples against his muscular chest... and from the awareness that her fiancé, watching this, was jerking off like a madman. A proper white girl, a true "southern belle," was giving herself to a black beast, becoming even more aroused by the awareness of her own depravity. Many of her ancestors were raised in an atmosphere of piety, hypocrisy, and racial intolerance, and now, fucking the black giant, Judy felt herself freeing from the chains thrown upon her by the past, offering her body as an atoning sacrifice for all the sins of her ancestors. She knew Mike was feeling the same right now and loved him even more for that understanding.
"You like this?" Jamal shouted, "like it, whore?"
"Yes... oh... faster!!!" Judy moaned, "fuck meeee!!! More! Oh god, more!!"
The huge cock moved faster and faster, black balls slapping against white buttocks until finally, Judy, shuddering all over, screamed from the overwhelming orgasm.
Sam always got nervous when Melissa left him alone—and that happened often, as the black girl loved to conduct sessions in secluded places: in nature, in abandoned houses, on wastelands. Every time she left, Sammy, though knowing she would return, deep down feared she would abandon him forever—tied up, bloodied, naked... Sam was afraid of that now too, but his fear was mixed with strong arousal as he imagined himself from the outside: a slight white guy, the perfect victim for a big black cock. He remembered Jamal's muscles, the huge bulge between his legs, discernible even through his pants, and impatiently shifted from foot to foot, anticipating the upcoming violation, where historical justice would be restored upon his own ass.
A rustle of branches was heard, and Sam perked up happily upon hearing heavy footsteps very close to him.
"Jamal, is that you?" he said joyfully, "Jamal, I..."
A hefty slap to the back of the head silenced him—well, if Jamal liked it rough, who was Sam to object? A heavy hand landed on Sam's back, and he barely held back a scream as a thick finger pressed against his bloody wound. Sam trembled with excitement, his cock, which had wilted from the whip blows, rose again, especially when fingers touched his anus.
"Ooooh!!!" Sam couldn't help but howl as the plug was roughly and sharply ripped from his ass. It felt like a grenade had exploded inside him, but along with the pain came such sharp arousal that he could no longer contain himself.
"Come on, Jamal, do it," Sam muttered, feeling two fingers force their way into his anus, "fuck me, Jamal... Avenge your ancestors on my racist ass. Tear me apart, my black god..."
"As you wish, you damn faggot!" a rough voice with a distinct southern accent could not possibly belong to Jamal, but Sam didn't even have time to be frightened when a wave of terrifying pain, far worse than anything he had experienced before, pierced his anus. Sam screamed, feeling a sharp blade rip open his anus and twist in his intestines. A stream of blood gushed down the inside of his thighs as a new blade slash ripped him open almost to his stomach. Mad with pain and fear, Sam thrashed in the chains, unable to free himself—Melissa knew her job well—and screamed hysterically, his voice breaking, until strong fingers reached into his mouth, grabbed his tongue, and pulled it out. Something sharp cut the soft flesh, making Sam choke on the warm blood filling his mouth.
"She's yours, white boy," Jamal nodded to Mike, fastening his pants, "do with her what you want. And I'll go check on her brother—I think Melissa is done with him."
"That was wonderful," he said, breathing heavily, looking adoringly into the girl's face
"I know, sweetie," Judy gently stroked his cheek, "you were magnificent."
Mike kissed her sperm-scented lips once more and rose above her, bracing his hands. His mouth opened to say something, but then a loud bang came from the door, and Mike's head suddenly exploded. Splashes of blood and brains scattered across the bed, splattering the screaming girl, who watched in horror as a grim figure in a dirty-white robe, with a still-smoking hunting rifle, appeared on the cabin's threshold.
"Saaammy! Sammy, my boy, been waiting for daddy?!"
Jam