II. Discipline – The Second Trimester
Although Blake and Evan were used to harsh discipline from Malik, nothing they had ever experienced before could have prepared them for the experience of being his slaves. Where previously he had used violence and intimidation as tools to correct undesirable behavior, with his new authority he appeared to be torturing the boys purely for the thrill of it. One of his first new policies was that the whiteboys would have to go around the house completely naked, aside from chastity cock cages and small frilly maid skirts he had picked out specially for them. Malik had personally supervised the placement of the chastity cages, ensuring a fit so tight that they constantly dug into the boys’ flesh. He had also taken the fitting as an opportunity to land a surprise punch to Evan’s testicles, leaving the whiteboy writhing on the floor in agony. While he was down, Malik furthered his humiliation by spitting on his face. “You’re lucky I don’t just stomp on your head while you’re down and finish the job. Now, you got something to say to me, whiteboy?”
With tears streaming down his face, Evan just barely sputtered out, “Th… thank you, Master, for my nice new clothes, and for not stomping on my head.”
Malik smiled at this. “That’s pretty good.” He then turned to Blake, “You better step it up if you want to be the one to survive.” Blake shuddered, torn between his instinct to go aid his twin, and his desire to survive.
Blake would also soon have an opportunity to prove his abject submission, when that same week Malik summoned him to his bedroom. Blake was expecting to be tasked with more cleaning, as Malik had been running him ragged all day, but when Malik opened the door he was shocked to see that both the Black man and his mother were fully naked, with the latter reclining sensually on their shared bed. Blake had never seen either of them naked before, and try as he might he couldn’t help but taking in their appearances. For a woman of 37-years, Claire looked unbelievably young, a testament to excellent genetics and her years of hard work in the gym. Her blonde hair was in a cropped short in pixie cut which somehow further accented a pretty feminine face, bright blue eyes, and full lips, although her face was now twisted in an expression of distaste for her whiteboy son. Her breasts were medium in size but almost preternaturally perky, and not a single stretch mark marred her perfect, toned abdomen to betray that she was a mother of three. Her vulva was waxed clean, and even in the dim light Blake could see a glisten reflecting off her pink labia, indicating how wet she was already. Her pale white skin was broken up only by a solitary black spade tattoo, signifying her eternal devotion to the Black race. Evan’s limp cock twitched pathetically against its cage at the sight, causing him a brief wave of pain accompanied by self-loathing for being turned on by his own mother.
For his part, Malik appeared to be a Black Adonis. The nude man rippled with muscle and towered over the small feminine whiteboy. His broad torso was covered in tattoos, most with Black supremacy imagery and slogans, although his left pec bore an odd tattoo of six small black tally-marks. His ebony cock was at least 7 inches long and thick around as Blake’s wrist, but it was still pointing at the floor, indicating that he was nowhere near fully erect yet. As Blake’s eyes passed over the dangling member, Malik laughed and exclaimed, “Look at this little white faggot, some kinda queer just like his daddy.” Malik then gestured for Blake to enter the room, and after taking a gulp of air Blake followed his cruel master’s instructions.
Not knowing where to stand, he made his way to the center of the room and used his hands to nervously attempt to straighten his skirt and cover as much of his chastity cage as possible. Claire giggled at the sight of her pale, hairless teenage son fidgeting nervously before her. She cooed, “Awww, you still look just like you did when you were a toddler running around naked – you’re a little taller now, but your little pink peenie has barely grown at all!”
Blake then felt a large, heavy hand fall on his shoulder from behind. Malik was standing just behind him, and speaking directly into his ear, “You know why you’re here, whiteboy?”
“N… N… No sir, I don’t.” Blake managed to stammer out.
“Your mom and I, we got this thing we like to do as foreplay – hurting whiteboys. Sometimes we go down to the VWD and assist in the procedures. Your momma got a taste for it when we did you Dad in.”
“God, that was so hot,” Claire blurted out, almost absentmindedly.
“Yeah it was, girl.” Malik was so close to Blake that the boy could feel the man’s breath with each word he spoke. “Problem is, when I get heated up and aggressive and horny, I sometimes don’t know when to stop, and things end up getting pretty messy…” With that said, there was suddenly an explosion of pain from Blake’s right flank as Malik landed a devastating punch to the kidney, knocking Blake to his knees and gasping for air. “Until today, your momma said we couldn’t do this with you boys – no permanent marks and all that – but things are different now.”
Claire smiled coldly at her son, “Blake, Malik tells me that Evan is doing a better job adjusting to the new rules than you are, so I wanted you to have an opportunity to catch up. I’m not trying to play favorites here, but I think you can prove to Malik that you’re not as racist as he says you are by asking him nicely to break you for our enjoyment. If you don’t, well, my guess is you don’t want to find out what Malik does with racists?”
By way of response, Malik pointed to his tally-mark tattoo, “Six racists down so far, whiteboy. This last one is your daddy.” He tapped a finger on the tally to emphasize the point. “So, are you you gonna ask me to kick the shit out of you, whiteboy? Or are we going to have a problem here?”
Blake’s lips trembled as he contemplated his options – his flank was still shooting needles of pain, but it seemed his only option for survival was to willingly accept the promised beating. Slowly and warily he nodded his head, giving Malik all the consent he needed.
The huge Black man fell on Blake like a wild animal, kicking and punching the whiteboy mercilessly in a testosterone-fueled fury. Even over the sounds of thudding fists and whimpering cries, both could hear Claire moaning lustfully, shamelessly stroking her clit to the sight of her lover demolishing her white son. She bit her lip and focused her eyes on Malik’s throbbing Black erection, which had ballooned to a solid 11 inches while he beat down the whiteboy. After at least five minutes of punishment, she finally rolled onto her hands and knees and lifted her shapely ass in the air – presenting her wet sex and calling out to Malik to come take her. Malik gave Blake one final, sharp kick in the ribs before answering his lovers request, and Blake could do nothing but lie in a fetal position on the floor and sob in a puddle of his own blood and urine as the superior human specimen loudly mounted and fucked his mother doggy-style to multiple shaking orgasms. The Black warrior let out a triumphant bellow as he filled her with a torrent of Black seed, overflowing her tight pussy and dripping down her thighs and onto the bed below.
Blake truly believed his humiliation was complete, but his mother had other plans. Still naked and dripping cum, she made her way over to her hapless son, not out of any maternal affection or to render aid to the badly beaten teen, but instead to let the semen leak from her cunt directly onto her son’s face and fresh lacerations as he coughed and sputtered. “Thanks for that, Blakey. You don’t know how hard that made me cum tonight – I’m a mess!” She laughed and then reached to grab her cell phone to snap some pictures of the crumpled heap of whiteboy littering her bedroom floor. “I’m gonna have to post these on the VWD Facebook page, they’ll get a kick out of them. Anyway, sweetie, good job – I think Malik is happy too, so you’re probably doing at least as well as your brother now! Go get some rest, and don’t worry about the mess, Malik is gonna make your brother clean it up with his tongue.”
Over the following months, a similar pattern repeated itself time and again. Either Blake or Evan would be summoned for physical abuse, and forced to beg Malik to inflict it upon them for fear of even worse consequences should they say no. Over time the injuries mounted, and by the time Claire’s baby bump began to show Evan was missing all his front teeth, and Blake’s left arm was shattered. Sometimes Anna would sit on the sessions as well, inevitably egging Malik on to greater and greater degrees of violence as she too masturbated to the complete degradation of the whiteboys. Even as the twins sunk deeper and deeper into despair, no clear leader in the competition emerged. It appeared that things would come down to the wire.