School of Hard BBC

Note 1: This is dedicated to Brittany who requested this wicked tale.

Note 2: Thanks to Tex Beethoven and Robert for editing this story.

* * * * *

Moving to Detroit was a huge change for us. We’d lived in a town of 5,000 for our entire lives, but wishing to be closer to my two grown children attending a small private college, I moved my entire family, including my eighteen-year-old twin sons, 250 miles north to a city of millions.

I found the large industrial city very nerve-wracking, but I felt all of my children needed me, and following the tragic loss of their mother in a freeway accident, they were all I had left.

Luckily (within a sea of not much luck at all during those tragic days), my wife’s life insurance policy (she’d been a lawyer, while I’m the writer of a couple of decently received novels) paid off all our debts, and even left us a decent nest egg for emergencies.

Also luckily, I was offered a job as a creative writing professor at the same college my two older children were attending, and my hours were light enough that I had some spare time to finish my third novel.

I enrolled my two twins (Philip and Michael) at a private school to begin their senior year, a perk of my new job, and I also qualified for living accommodations just off campus… so I was close to my son Jason and daughter Michelle, who lived in the dorms.

Upon my arrival, I immediately noticed both Jason and Michelle were different somehow, although I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was… just something…. except that Jason was a lot less outgoing then he’d ever been back at home, while Michelle was more outgoing, the polar opposite of her somewhat shy demeanor back home.

I also noticed she now had a tattoo, a black spade with a flesh-coloured Q remaining un-inked inside it, on her lower back. When I asked her about it, since she seemed the least likely of my four children to acquire a tattoo, she said it just stood for her mom’s middle name, which had been Quinn. That made sense to me, and even though I’d always disliked tattoos, she was an adult now, so it was her body and her choice.

I also couldn’t quite identify what, but there was something off about the college as well. For example, although the breakdown was likely twenty percent black, fifty percent white, and thirty percent other races (there was a sizeable number of Asian and Hispanic), it appeared that the black students ruled the roost. The student body president and vice president were both black students, the quarterback was black, and even the male lead of the upcoming musical Grease was black.

Now I’m not racist at all, and at first I was enthusiastic about such a great pro-active college. But the longer I taught there, the more signs I witnessed of a strange sense of entitlement among the black students.

For example, just to show you I wasn’t being racist, that I was simply noticing what I witnessed without judging, during the past five straight classes, a black student named Jazmine sitting in the front row had a white girl massaging her feet. It was like she was almost challenging me to rebuke her for it, which I didn’t, for I was more bewildered than dismayed. Plus, Jazmine always had a smug look on her face whenever I looked at her.

Seeing the star football quarterback with a white girl on each arm was also a little surprising since he was black, as was the time I hurried into a student bathroom, unable to make it to the faculty one in time, and witnessed a pretty redhead being fucked by a black student. And not hidden away in a stall, but right out near the sinks for anybody (such as myself) to see. They didn’t appear to notice me, but it was pretty obvious she was enjoying the fucking… and stranger yet, since she was almost naked I could see that she too had that same Q of Spades tattoo. I did my business and was just leaving, when I heard her cry out loudly enough to be heard in the hallway outside, “Yes, you wonderful black bastard, come in my cunt with that big black cock!”

I scurried out with my cock hard from what I’d witnessed. Clearly almost two years without sex was getting to me.

Then suddenly one evening, everything began making sense.

I’d forgotten my iPad in my office, so I went back after hours to get it. It was around nine, and I saw the lights still on in lecture hall four. I wasn’t the last one using that hall, Professor Harris was since he had a psychology class after mine, but that was a few hours ago, so I figured I’d go in and shut the lights off.

But as I opened the door, I was in for another shock… this one more extreme than my bathroom walk-in two days before.

Professor Harris was still there, and he was bent over with his hands on the podium, his pants at his ankles, while Jamal, a top student in my creative writing class, was fucking him from behind.

“Oh God, fuck me,” Professor Harris, a good-looking white man in his late 20s, moaned.

“Yes, fuck him, fuck his ass good,” a female voice cried out, as I turned to my right to see Jazmine sitting in the same seat she usually occupied, but instead of enjoying a foot massage this time, she had a woman between her black legs, clearly eating her out.

No one saw me at first, as everyone was preoccupied, and Jamal asked, “Do you enjoy seeing your wife eating that black pussy?”

His wife? The other Professor Harris?! Mike Harris was the English professor who’d given me a tour of the college once I’d accepted the job. His wife Elaine, also a professor here, was incredibly good looking, and she always wore nice skirts and pantyhose… which I appreciated, having always had a thing for nylons.

“Yes, she looks amazing between Mistress Jazmine’s legs,” Mike replied willingly, with a moan.

“Think she’d like my dick in that white pussy of hers?” Jamal asked, as he really drilled the male professor from behind.

“Perhaps,” Mike moaned, as he watched his wife licking away between a college girl’s legs.

“Do you want my boyfriend’s black cock in your hole, slut?” Jazmine asked Elaine.

“I don’t know,” she replied, her voice muffled by Jazmine’s pussy, but just loud enough for me to hear. “He’s so big.”

“I think you do,” Jamal said.

“Oh, if your faggot husband can take those ten inches in his ass, I’m sure you can take them in that virgin pussy of yours, Jazmine analyzed wickedly, finally glancing up and seeing me.

“I’m not a virgin, I have three children,” Elaine denied, while I should have turned and fled, yet I felt unable to move, so captivated and shocked by everything I was witnessing.

“Until you’ve had BBC in that white snatch you are,” Jazmine argued, then added, pointing at me, “it looks like we have a Peeping Tom.”

Everyone turned to look at me and I stammered, “S-s-sorry, I just saw the lights were on.”

“And then you decided to be a perv and watch,” Jazmine accused.

“No, I was just surprised,” I denied.

“Well, come over here and take a closer look at your surprise,” Jazmine invited arrogantly, as she pulled the married Elaine back between her legs, and Jamal didn’t slow down his drilling of Mike’s ass, whose cheeks went bright red as he turned away from me.

“I should leave,” I said, even though I wasn’t certain I wanted to.

“No, get over here,” Jazmine ordered in a firm and startling don’t-fuck-with-me tone.

Of course I still should have turned and walked away… this was the kind of shit that got you fired… yet I felt my legs ignoring my logic, as they began walking me towards the surreal sex acts.

“Tell Professor Joe how much you love black dick,” Jamal ordered. On Day One, I’d invited my students to address me by my first name instead of my last, hopefully to build a closer relationship with them (although not this close of a relationship).

“Please, no,” Mike pleaded, clearly completely humiliated to be caught in such a compromised, humiliating situation.

Jamal pulled out, his huge cock suddenly in full view, and fuck was it huge, more than double the size of my just under five-inch dick.

“Do you want this cock, Professor Joe?” Jamal asked, his cock swaying back and forth like an elephant’s trunk.

I couldn’t take my eyes off it… it was like it had magnetic pull, but I answered, “No, no, no, I’m straight.”

“So is Professor Harris,” Jamal said, before adding, “at least he was before he discovered his true purpose.”

“True purpose?” I asked, still unable to take my eyes off of his cock… it was just so toweringly majestic.

“To be like all white men are at their cores,” Jamal said, as he went back behind Mike and slammed his dick back in his ass, “submissive sissies for dominant black men.”

“Oh fuck,” Mike groaned, as he was again being fucked.

“You see,” Jamal explained, “Professor Harris here is mortified to be caught with his pants down, a black student’s dick in his ass, and his wife eating black pussy, yet he can’t do anything about it. He can’t control himself. And you’ve probably heard the saying, ‘once you go black’…”

I’d never heard whatever he was quoting, so I said, “No, it doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Remember he’s from some hillbilly town,” Jazmine excused my ignorance, but demeaningly.

“Right,” Jamal nodded, “Help him out: how does the saying end, Professor Fuck-Toy?”

Mike was humiliated, yet moaning in pleasure as he was really drilled, and filled in the blank with, “You never go back.”

“That’s right; and is it true?” Jamal continued.

“Yes,” Mike answered shamefully.

“Do you prefer my cock, or your wife’s pussy?” Jamal asked, as he drilled Mike harder than I’d ever fucked my wife, or any other woman.

“Your cock,” Mike admitted, every answer he gave adding to his humiliation.

“And if I want to fuck your wife?” Jamal asked.

“That’s not up to me; ask her,” Mike replied with docility, just before he began to tremble, and I gasped as he shot a load all over the podium.

“Only real white faggots come from getting fucked,” Jamal explained rather matter-of-factly.

“I’m so sorry, Joe,” Mike whimpered.

“Sorry for what?” Jamal asked. “It was only a matter of time before he learned the truth about this school, and his own true purpose.”

“My purpose?” I asked, startled, even though I sensed where this was going.

“You want my dick, don’t you, Professor Joe?” Jamal asked.

“Get ready for my cum, slut,” Jazmine ordered, as I glanced over and saw her really grinding up and down on Elaine’s face.

“No,” I said. “Like I said, I’m not gay.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jamal said, “I’ve heard that line a hundred times from guys just like you.”

“It’s true,” I stressed.

“You don’t know it yet, but tonight I’ve awakened a side of you that you didn’t know existed,” he said, as he pulled out of Mike, spun him around, pushed him to his knees, and shoved his cock in his mouth.

My eyes went wide as Mike began sucking on a dick that had just been in his ass!

“Yessssssss, slut,” Jazmine moaned loudly, as she came on Elaine’s face.

“I don’t think you have,” I denied, not really buying any of his hogwash.

“Oh, I know I have,” he insisted as he held his palm up to mark a pause in conversation, and then I watched as he pulled out and blasted Mike’s face with a massive facial!

Once again I should have left; yet I remained frozen in place, watching these taboo, topsy-turvy climaxes with students dominating professors, when their having sex together at all could get everybody fired or expelled!.

Once Jamal finished shooting, he slid his cock back into Mike’s mouth and resumed, “So like I was saying, it’s only a matter of time before you too are bent over this podium taking my big cock in your ass, or any other black student’s big cock, or on your knees devouring someone’s big fat black cock.”

“I really don’t think so,” I replied thoughtfully, which I realized afterwards was far from the defiant negation it should have been.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said in the same tone of voice with which that phrase is always uttered, as he pulled out and pulled up his sweats, “I’ve heard that before too.”

“If we gave him only a tiny nudge, he’d probably bend over, drop his pants, and take your cock right now,” Jazmine observed, as she shoved Elaine’s face away from her pussy.

“Yeah, he does look hungry,” Jamal agreed, as he walked over to Jazmine, and solicitously helped her to her feet while her skirt dropped into place, leaving her fully dressed (except I’d seen she wasn’t wearing any panties). “But he’ll have to wait until he’s ready to join the white faggot’s club by his own choice.”

“He’ll be a natural,” Jazmine predicted, looking at me with the same smirk she always had.

I was speechless, as I watched them saunter out arm in arm, as Elaine crawled over to Mike, keeping her head down, and not looking toward me at all.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Mike said, wiping the cum off his face with a large handkerchief he apparently carried around for the purpose.

“I can’t believe you didn’t lock the door,” Elaine accused.

“I thought I had,” Mike said.

“How did any of this happen?” I asked, wanting to know.

“It’s how this school works,” Elaine explained meaninglessly.

“What does that even mean?” I asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she asked me sharply, as if it was an idiotic question.

“No, it isn’t,” I said, annoyed at being snapped at. “I’ve never seen anything so incomprehensible in my entire life!”

“Jesus,” she said.

“Hey, don’t ‘Jesus’ me,” I retorted angrily. “I’m not the one having sex with my students!”

“No, not yet you aren’t,” she refuted me.

“Elaine, he’s not the one you’re angry with,” Mike pointed out, trying to calm things down.

She sighed, as tears were now streaming down her face, “I know. I’m sorry Joe, Mike’s right. None of this is your fault, and apparently nobody has explained to you how things work around here.”

“That’s all right,” I said, immediately mollified. “So how do they work?”

“Well, to put it simply,” Mike said, “this school has a clear hierarchy.”

“How so?” I asked, even though I was already beginning to figure out what was going on.

“For starters, white women at this school submit to black women, and sometimes to black men.”

“And white men submit to black men,” Elaine added, glaring at her husband.

“I’ve said I’m sorry a thousand times,” Mike said.

“You didn’t seem very sorry that first time you allowed Jazmine to dominate me,” she accused.

“You could have refused her,” Mike countered.

“Like you refused Jamal?” she snapped.

“We both gave in,” Mike reasoned.

“You did first,” she countered. “Leaving me with absolutely no support.”

“Anyway,” Mike sighed. “Almost every professor here is fully submissive to the black students they teach.”

“And you’re the only one who still isn’t,” Elaine added.

“Really?” I asked.

“And that anomaly won’t last long,” she added.

“But I’m not gay,” I reiterated.

“Neither am I,” Mike said.

“Me neither,” Elaine said.

“But…” Mike added.

“But…” Elaine nodded, “whether a Caucasian is gay or straight, black cocks and pussies are completely irresistible.”

“But you two were happily married,” I said, their having been married for just over a year now.

“We still are,” Mike clarified, but then laughed awkwardly, “although it doesn’t likely seem like it, right now in the heat of the moment.”

“Yes, I still love my man,” Elaine said. “I just blame him for the predicament we’re in.”

“One that when you’re being honest with yourself, you thoroughly enjoy,” Mike insisted.

“Says the respectable professor who just shot cum all over the podium!” Elaine was being teasing this time.

Mike sighed, “I know.”

“Okay, now that I’m over my mad, you’re right, dear. Joe, I know it’s crazy, and I’m still wrestling with it, but whenever I remember to accept that I’m a submissive to all of the black female students, I’m content,” she said, “but suddenly seeing you standing there watching my humiliation, I freaked out and forgot to.”

“Sorry, I did think it was locked,” Mike apologized again, receiving the wife glare again.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said.

“I think she’s mostly mad because Jamal hinted she’d finally be allowed to be fucked by him today,” he said. “But then once she’d seen the carrot, he took it away again.”

“That was hardly a carrot, it’s more like a baseball bat!” she snorted. “But if you can fuck him, then why can’t I?”

“I’m not saying you can’t.”

“You want to have sex with your students?” I asked, this whole conversation straying into weirder and weirder territory.

“Not all of them, just the black ones. Didn’t you see his dick?”

“It was hard not to,” I joked.

“Exactly,” she said. “but ‘White Bitches’, as we’re called, aren’t allowed to suck or get fucked by BBC, until we’ve properly submitted to the female students for long enough.”

“How do you do that?” I asked.

“By eating a lot of pussy,” Mike said.

“And taking a lot of strap-on cocks,” Elaine shrugged.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mike said.

“I’m just saying they fuck me good,” she said with a smile.

“And you’re now officially on Jamal’s radar,” he said, looking at me.

“I am?”

“He was already on his radar, let’s be honest,” Elaine said.

“Yeah, that’s likely true,” Mike nodded.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I can refuse him,” I said.

“Yeah, you just keep thinking that,” he said. “Until you can’t.”

“Why didn’t you?” I asked.

“Let’s go for a drink, and we can talk,” Mike said. “Do you mind excusing us Elaine?”

“No, I’ve got some grading to do, and I have Amber Hutchinson coming to my office in forty minutes.” This was a small college, and Amber was another very pretty black woman in one of my classes.

“Enjoy,” Mike said, kissing his wife.

“Oh, I will,” she said, in a tone making it clear she’d be eating some more pussy in forty minutes.

…..

Inside a pub in town, drinks ordered, I asked, “So you weren’t serious that every professor here is submissive to the students?”

“To black students,” he corrected me.

“So you are serious?” I asked, this still seeming unbelievable, and truthfully, more like something you might encounter in a bad porn movie.

“Yeah,” he said, taking a sip of his whiskey. “I know it’s a little hard to believe.”

“A lot hard to believe.”

“Yeah? Well, you’ll become a believer soon.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, even though I had been a little drawn in by Jamal’s enormous black cock.

“Dude, you don’t stand a chance,’ Mike laughed. “I mean the way you were staring at Jamal’s cock, I thought you were going to come over and suck him right there and then.”

“I definitely hadn’t even thought of doing that,” I said. Yes, it was impressive, and yes, it did turn me on, which confused me, but I had no interest in sucking any guy’s cock, especially a student’s.

“Well, you could have fooled me,” he said.

I was about to respond, when he added in more of a warning tone, “Either way, you’re now in Jamal’s sights.”

“You said that before. But I think I can take care of myself,” I assured him.

“Yeah, I thought the same thing… once,” Mike said, a pensive look in his eyes.

“How did it happen?” I asked, completely curious how a married, good-looking man like Mike could end up being fucked by a black male student, while his wife submitted to a black female one.

“Is it okay if I’m very blunt with you?” Mike asked.

“Yeah, I think we’re way past the point of beating around the bushes,” I permitted, ignoring my own innuendo.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true. So just like you did tonight, I walked into something,” Mike said, finishing his drink.

“Gay sex?” I asked, that seeming pretty obvious.

“Yeah,” Mike said. He paused and then added, “You see, the bathrooms in this school are primarily places where whites go to submit to blacks.”
“The other day I did walk in on a black student having sex with a white coed. It was inside a bathroom, but right out in the open.”

“Yeah? The bathroom in the 200 hallway?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, that one and the 500 are designated for black men fucking white women.”

“There are bathrooms designated for different kinds of sex?!” I asked, astounded yet again.

“Yeah,” he nodded, as our second round of drinks arrived. “The 800 women’s bathroom is for lesbian submission, and the 900 is for white men either to suck, or to bottom, their share of black cock.”

“This seems so unbelievable,” I said.

“Yeah, well I had no idea when I was sent by a colleague to the 900 hallway bathroom last year, and walked in on two colleagues and the football coach, all bent over the counter, being fucked by three large, black linemen,” he reported.

“No way! Coach Peters?” I gasped, a drill sergeant of a man who’d led our football team to four straight State finals, winning the most recent two.

“Yeah, he’s regularly fucked by every black guy on the team.”

“I can’t even fathom.”

“No, you don’t understand yet, but soon you will,” Mike predicted. “Because black cock is utterly irresistible. I tried to resist it at first; I really, really tried,” he sighed.

“How long have you been, um….” I trailed off, because I wasn’t sure how to complete my question without being crude.

“A cock sucking bottom for black students with huge cocks?” he finished for me bluntly, shaking his head self-disparagingly.

“I was trying to think of a way of wording it a little more politically correct,” I explained.

“I got that; but you needn’t bother, it is what it is. And besides, the guys whose black cocks I’m sucking or bottoming certainly don’t mince their words, they’re as humiliating as possible; which frankly, I get off on. But to answer your question, I’ve been hooked for almost a year now.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah, I can’t explain it, but if a black cock is offered to me, I don’t even hesitate anymore. I just instantly do whatever needs doing to get that sucker into my mouth or my ass.”

“You still haven’t told me how it started,” I said, for some reason really needing to know that… even though I had no idea why I felt so determined about it.

“You really do want to know, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “I still can’t wrap my head around any of it.”

“Well like I mentioned, I walked in on two colleagues and the coach being ass fucked. The sound of these grown men whimpering like women, as well as the slapping sounds of the black men slamming into them, added to the nasty insults spewing from the blacks, had me frozen in place, just like you were earlier tonight.”

“Yeah, I was so shocked I couldn’t do anything but stand there and stare,” I admitted.

“Yeah, I get it,” he nodded. “Of course they soon noticed I was there, and then they began getting really verbal with their bent over fuckees. Their abuse seemed unbearably harsh, and yet hearing it somehow made me hard. Then they asked if I wanted some black dick too, and I hightailed it out of there like a scared rabbit!”

“You did better than I did, then.” I joked.

“Yeah, you did seem pretty captivated,”

“I don’t know about captivated,” I said, although that might have been the perfect word. “But I was definitely stunned.”

“By my getting railed, or by how big Jamal was?”

“Railed, that’s a new one,” I laughed.

“Yeah? It’s a word Jamal uses lots.”

“I see,” I said, before answering his question, “I guess both sights were pretty shocking.”

“I understand,” Mike said. “I was shocked too when I first discovered the college’s secret society.”

“It’s really a secret society?”

“Not all that secret,” Mike laughed a little. “I mean pretty much every white guy ends up being a cock sucking bottom for black cock, and pretty much every white girl ends up being a pussy muncher, a strap-on taker, and once she’s considered worthy enough, a BBC three-hole slut.”

“I have a son and daughter attending here,” I said, suddenly realizing they were both at risk!

“Freshmen?” he asked with a look of concern.

“This is my daughter’s second year, and my son’s third year here.”

“Then I hate to say it,” he said, pausing briefly, “but they’re very likely already well-trained black cock or cunt submissives,” Mike said, “and in your daughter’s case, both,” so matter-of-factly it was scary.

“I can’t see them doing anything like that,” I said, trying to think of anything that might indicate I was wrong. If what Mike said was at all true, then why had they encouraged him to move here and take this job, instead of running like hell to some other college? Nope, no way. Plus, Michelle had a boyfriend.

“Well, enjoy living in de-Nile,” Mike quipped. “Keep an eye out for crocodiles.”

“I just know my kids,” I said, feeling pretty confident that neither of them were gay or submissive. Truth was, they were both pretty damn assertive, like their mother.

“I hope you’re right,” Mike said politely, obviously just saying words he didn’t believe could possibly be true.

“I am,” I concluded confidently.

“Well, I should get going,” Mike said. “My wife is likely done with her snack, and she’ll want me to go down on her as soon as I get home.”

“So you’re okay with your wife being with women, and even men, just as soon as she’s permitted?”

“As okay as she is with my being a BBC cum bucket,” Mike answered.

“Surreal.”

“Yeah. Well, don’t judge me too harshly until you’ve resisted your own temptation for at least a month.”

“Oh, I will,” I said, “but you never did tell me how you succumbed.”

“Shit, we’d better order one more round, then,” Mike said, waving the waitress over.

“Yeah, I could use another drink.”

“So anyway, consider this a cautionary tale,” Mike said, “because everything you’ve been saying to me, I was saying to myself after I walked in on the Sodomy Three.”

“Sodomy Three, funny,” I laughed.

“Anyway, the very next day, Wally, the big bruiser who’d been fucking Coach, walked up to me in the hallway just outside my lecture hall, and said only, ‘You’re next’. And then before I could even respond, he disappeared back down the hallway, since he wasn’t a student of mine. Actually I didn’t even know his name was Wally at the time, I just knew he was a huge black man I’d seen committing legal mayhem on the football field, and who yesterday had ass fucked his own coach, and had now told me I was next.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I taught. Although I was definitely distracted during my lecture, and really had to concentrate to remain on topic.”

“After my class, Frank, one of the two colleagues I’d walked in on getting railed, came in and said we needed to talk. I won’t go into lengthy details, but he told me his own story, told me about the secret society, and told me that Wally planned to turn me next.”

“‘Turn’ you?” I asked, not a term I recognized.

“Yeah, turn me from straight to gay,” Mike explained succinctly.

“Ohhhhh,” I said, nodding.

“Yeah,” Mike said. “Anyway, he warned me that I was fresh meat, and all the black seniors were eyeing me as their next turn.”

“Is Jamal a senior?” I asked, I have no idea why.

“Yep,” Mike nodded. “And head of the black fraternity.”

“Of course he is,” I said.

“And he ensures the fraternity has designated cock suckers, bottoms, and piss boys on hand in the frat house at all times.”

“You can’t be serious?” I gulped; this college environment was just getting more and more outlandish, yet his face told me he was dead serious.

“Yeah, there are always six cock suckers, four bottoms, and a piss boy on duty.”

“Piss boy?”

“Yeah, that’s usually someone who resisted submitting for quite some time, so now he’s serving his sentence as a live in piss drinker,” he said. “Such ‘hardened criminals’, as they’re considered, might serve day and night for as long as six months.”

“No way!”

“Yeah, a couple years ago, Professor Kent served as the piss boy after attempting to out the secret society,” Mike said. “Actually for two weeks at one point, his entire family: his wife, three sons, and even his mom and dad, were all 24/7 cum sluts for the frat.”

“No way,” I repeated.

“I wish I was lying,” Mike said. “The truth is, and I hate to be the one telling you, but now that you’ve been targeted, your submission is inevitable; the frat is very powerful. But on the positive side, I’m not going to lie, there’s literally nothing better than a BBC in your mouth or railing your ass.”

“Shit,” I said, overwhelmed by everything I was hearing. Both of my kids could have already submitted to black cock and pussy, and according to Mike, there was no way they hadn’t. And I personally was being targeted by none other than the all-powerful President of the frat.

“Yeah dude, it’s inevitable,” Mike said, but added, “but based on the look in your eyes when you saw Jamal’s cock, you’re going to love it!”

“That was shock,” I argued.

“Nope. It was lust,” Mike said. “Trust me, I’ve seen it many times, including in my own mirror. Black cock just has a way of making any man into less of a man. Case in point: Coach Peters.”

“Do you feel you’re less of a man?” I asked, Mike seeming pretty manly now, although he’d appeared far less so while I was watching him getting… ‘railed’… as he put it.

“Good question,” he pondered. “I guess ‘less of a man’ is the wrong way to word it. Perhaps less of a hidebound man is more accurate. I’m less of a man’s man. I’ve accepted my sexuality. I still fuck my wife, and I’m in charge when I do, except for the times when we agree it’s her turn, and then she usually pegs me, which we never used to do. Nothing much has changed there, other than we’re now having more intense sex, now that we both know what we know. And when a dick is in my mouth, or a cock in my ass, I allow my feminine side to take over. It’s an experience I find quite liberating: I used to think I had to be manly at all costs, which meant I was constantly bottling up all my spontaneity.”

“How many times do you… how should I put it… serve black cock?” I asked.

“That works. And almost daily.”

“You suck dick or get fucked almost every day?”

“Yeah, sometimes a few times a day, or on rare occasions I’m not required to service any dick at all for a couple of days,” Mike said. “But when that happens, I usually go to the 900 bathroom, where there’s almost always a nice black dick available for me to suck or get fucked by.”

“You don’t appear gay at all,” I said. “In any way, except while I saw you in action.”

“I’m not gay,” he clarified. “I’m not even really bi. I love my wife, I love women, and I feel no sexual attraction to men at all. I just love sucking black cock and only black cock, and getting railed by black cock and only black cock. As attractive as I’ll bet many women find you, if you ever came on to me, you’d never even get to first base; not that I think you’d try.”

He’d explained all of that with no shame, only acceptance.

“So, I know I keep interrupting you,” I said, “but you still haven’t told me how you ended up a bottom for BBC.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking at his phone. “Okay, here’s the quick version, because I really need to get my ass home. I was in my office doing some work a couple hours after Wally had… had… I guess ‘warned me of his intentions’ is the best way of putting it… when Joel, my teacher’s assistant, came in with cum all over his face and asked, looking completely humiliated, ‘Do you know what this is on my face?’ I replied, ‘It appears to be somebody’s semen. ‘That’s exactly right,’ he confirmed. ‘And I’m supposed to tell you his next load is for you’. And then he turned and hustled back out of my office.”

“Holy shit, that’s really brazen!” I gasped.

“Yes, the frat boys ooze confidence,” Mike nodded. He then added, “At first I shrugged it off, yet no matter what I did, no matter what I told myself, I couldn’t get that image out of my head of my colleagues bent over, moaning like bitches in heat while they were getting railed.”

“Did you see any of their dicks?” I asked curiously, as the sight of Jamal’s was what seemed to be forever burned in the back of my head… his huge cock.

“No, not then,” Mike said, “but photos of big black cocks started being sent to my phone. Like fifty of them in two hours, all from different numbers. Each one big. Each one fat. Each one black.”

“And you didn’t report them?”

“To whom?” Mike asked me. “Professor Kent had made it pretty clear that everyone, up to and including the Dean, were already cock suckers and bottom bitches to the frat.”

“How about the cops?” I asked, thinking there had to be a way of ending this. Although I didn’t know the details, I was certain there were some sort of laws against sexual harassment, and surely this toxic environment qualified as that. If I could recruit any witnesses willing to talk, that is, and somehow I didn’t think I’d ever find a single one, even if I dared to start asking around.

Mike scoffed, “The cops are all either black and they have a deal with the frat house, or they’re white, and so they’re cock suckers and bottom bitches to the frat and to their fellow BBC cops.”

“No way,” I said, this just getting more and more unbelievable.

“Everything I’m telling you is the Gospel truth,” Mike said. “I mean I understand your situation, you’re trying to discover some way out of your inevitable submission. But once I was spit roasted in the back seat of a cop car with my hands cuffed behind my back, I learned the cops around here were never going to help.”

“You got fucked by cops?”

“Most of us do at some point,” he said. “It’s not too bad once you’re into it; it’s pretty nice, actually.”

“Shit,” I said.

“Anyway, after all the dick pics started coming, I had a few different students I taught ask me if I liked the photo they’d sent,” he continued, “but they never stuck around long enough for me to respond; and besides, there were always other people around, so I couldn’t confront them.”

“They really are smug shits,” I said, their brazen attitude beginning to piss me off.

“Yeah, and they back it up.”

“So what happened next?”

“I went to my office the next morning, and everywhere I went along the way, I saw black guys fucking white guys. Outside on the lawns, all up and down the hallways, everywhere! And everyone who wasn’t fucking someone or being fucked… perhaps 80% of the students and faculty… was just going about their business as if nothing unusual was happening. I walked into my office and didn’t find my secretary… always a sweet, reliable lady… at her desk, but I found her a moment later on my desk, her legs spread wide open and getting fucked,”

“Not railed?” I joked.

“Oh yeah, she was really getting railed,” he agreed with a small chortle. “She didn’t see me, but some black guy I didn’t know looked up at me and told me either to come over and suck his cock, or to rub myself as I watched my secretary getting blacked.”

“Getting blacked,” I said, not so much as a question, but as a cute new term I caught onto instantly.

“Yeah, it’s a term for when a white women gets railed by a black stud.”

“I figured,” I said. “So what did you do?”

“I told him to leave,” Mike said. “The guy pulled out, turned around and asked, as if I were making a big mistake, ‘You’re certain you don’t want to suck this?’ It was easily eight inches long, and fat. My eyes went big. But I stood my ground and repeated that he should leave. The guy shrugged and asked my secretary, ‘Should I go, like the man says, or stay and finish destroying that pussy of yours, slut?'”

“No way,” I said yet again, a two-worder I kept repeating over and over during his story.

“‘PLEASE stay and fill my pussy with your big cock until you come in me,’ she begged, as I couldn’t help but stare at his huge cock, and at this mother of five with her legs spread wide open, looking up at me as she pleaded with him, and in effect with me as well. No shame. Just desperation.”

“Wow,” I said, completely captivated by the story.

“‘Sorry man, but unless you want my dick, I’d better appease the lady,’ he said, stroking his huge dick, before sliding back into my chubby fifty-year-old secretary.

“‘Oh yes, fuck me with that fat black cock,’ she begged some more, but now happily, while I couldn’t help but watch, noticing that what I’d always assumed were pantyhose, were actually a garter-belt and stockings, and I didn’t see any evidence of panties anywhere around.”

“I do love stockings,” I said, that always having been a fetish of mine.

“Then you’ll love it here,” Mike said, “if you’re a female submissive to black pussy or cock, you’re expected to be in a garter-belt and stockings, or thigh high stockings at all times, for easy access. And never any panties, of course.”

“Oh,” I said, having noticed that my daughter, who’d never worn them back home, had been wearing some sort of nylons every time I’d seen her since moving here. (And of course I’d never checked to see if she was wearing panties.)

“Does your daughter wear stockings?” Mike asked, reading my mind.

“Sometimes,” I said.

“Well if she does, that will give you a hint.”

“Just finish the story,” I said, frustrated at what my daughter wearing nylons probably meant.

“Sorry,” he said. “Anyway, he fucked her to her orgasm and then pulled out, turned around, and spewed his load on my suit. ‘What the fuck?’ I snapped as I jumped back, and most of his cum landed on my pants, shoes, and then on the floor. He left without another word, as my secretary sat up and apologized. She explained she’d been eating pussy here for over ten years, and she was on a schedule to be fucked a couple times a month. She admitted she loved it, and wouldn’t change it for anything.”

“Crazy,” I said, the idea of white women eating black women so fucking hot. The idea of my own secretary, a woman in her forties, who did indeed wear nylons every day, eating black pussy was also pretty damn hot.

“Yeah, then later that day, the fucking everywhere scenario seeming to have ended once I’d entered my office, I walked into a bathroom and saw a black nerd drilling a white cheerleader, and later I walked into my own classroom early, to see a good-looking student on his knees, sucking a black student’s cock.”

“So they were pushing you,” I generalised.

“Yep, as they will you,” he said.

“I hope not,” I said, although the idea of being surrounded by people fucking was a turn-on, based on my earlier experience tonight.

“So long story short, after class I returned to my office, and Wally was sitting at my desk as if he owned the place, with Professor James on her knees sucking his cock.”

“No way!” I said, Professor Sarah James a beautiful redheaded professor who was easily one of the prettiest women I’d ever met in person. She was also sweet, and was always in nylons.

“Yeah, she’s very popular among the black students.”

“I can imagine.”

“She likes you, by the way,”

“No way,” I said for the umpteenth time, like a broken record.

“Yeah, she asked me if you were single.”

“You’re bullshitting me!”

“Why would I do that?”

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah, you should definitely ask her out.”

“But she’s a submissive for BBC and black women?”

“Of course, but anytime now, you’ll be one too,” he said. “Exclusive relationships are nonexistent around here, but soon you won’t mind that in the least.”

“You really think I’ll be… turned, you called it?” I asked, shaking my head.

“That’s right, and past experience tells me you will be,” he said. “So back to my story. Wally smiled and asked me, ‘Ready to join the team?’ ‘Which team is that?’ I asked, as I watched Professor James bobbing hungrily on his cock. ‘You’ll be on several: Team white cock sucker. Team bottom bitch. Team cum bucket,’ he listed.”
“Holy fuck,” I said, this tale sounding more like a porn film than real life.

“Yeah, I was completely stunned,” Mike said. “Then Sarah spoke up and said, ‘Come join me, Mike.'”

“No way!” I said, one shocking reveal after another.

“Yeah,” Mike said. “I asked her, ‘Why, Sarah?’ She replied, stroking the huge cock adoringly, ‘Come down here and find out.’ I knew I should have said no. Yet her soft words, her sexy eyes, and the huge black sausage she was stroking, had me walking over to her and him, and getting down on my knees.”

“I still can’t believe this,” I said.

“Every word is true,” he said. “I knelt beside her and watched her sucking his cock for a couple of minutes while Wally explained the rules, which I already knew from Professor Kent. Sarah then stopped sucking and proffered me his big, wet cock. I should have said no. I should have protested. (Or at least that’s how I felt at the time, but not anymore.) Yet I did neither. I was now in such awe of his cock… so I just leaned forward and took it in my mouth.”

“Wow!” I said.

“Yeah, he came in my mouth a few minutes later, and I was hooked.”

“You swallowed that slimy goo?”

“Cum is delicious. You need to try it.”

“Something else I can’t fathom.”

“A week later, he was railing me in my office. Then I was spit-roasted by two freshmen in their dorm room. Since then, I’ve had a dick in my mouth or ass or both, pretty much every day.”

“Wow,” I said yet again.

“Anyway, I really need to get going,” he said. “If you have any more questions, or just want to satisfy some more of your curiosity, which you doubtless will, you know where I am.”

“Okay.”

“Good luck in resisting.”

“Thanks.”

“Although it will be futile,” he said, patting me consolingly on the back as he left.

That night, or rather during the wee hours of the next morning when I finally made it to bed, I couldn’t sleep. What I’d witnessed during that late evening refused to leave my head. I particularly couldn’t get Jamal’s cock out of my head. Nor could I push his words out of my head: “You don’t know it yet, but I’ve awakened a side of you that you didn’t know existed.” Nor could I push Mike’s parting words out of my head: “Although it will be futile.”

At first I ignored my throbbing cock, annoyed that I was hard from reimagining a gay act. Yet my cock kept begging for attention, and before I knew it. I was stroking myself. I closed my eyes and imagined Professor Sarah sucking my cock. Was Mike serious? Was she actually interested in me? I would have been utterly ecstatic about such news if she wasn’t a longstanding slut for BBC, although the idea of watching her eating a black pussy was super-hot. I know, I’m a pig.

Imagining Sarah in black nylons, her sexy feet (I assumed she had sexy feet inside those five-inch heels she always wore) stroking my cock (something I used to love my wife doing for me sometimes) had my balls boiling pretty quick. Yet just as I was about to come, the imaginary Sarah, who was moaning passionately as she stroked me asked, “Won’t you suck this big black cock for me, Joe?” And then Jamal’s big cock flashed before my eyes as I erupted a huge load, while an intense orgasm coursed through me. Easily the most intense one I’d ever had from my hand.

As I lay there, spent, cum coating my hand, I cursed out loud, “What the fuck was that about?”

I got up, cleaned myself off and tried to sleep… yet so many distracting questions were spinning in my head.

Was Jamal really going to try and turn me?

Was the fact of my daughter wearing nylons a sudden neon sign announcing to the world that she constantly submitted to black women, and perhaps to black men as well?

Did Sarah actually fancy me? And if she did, what did that actually mean, if everything else Mike said about her, and about this campus, and even about the surrounding community, was true?

And what about my son? What were the odds he too had been turned?

Why do I keep replaying that gay scene I’d happened across?

Why can’t I get Jamal’s huge cock out of my head?

Why do I keep calling it huge?

I had just come. Why was I still fucking hard?

Fuck!

…..

The next morning, as luck would have it, Michelle came over with some very welcome coffee. She wore black nylons. We chatted for a few minutes about generic stuff: school for her, my new job, plans for our family Thanksgiving, which was still two months away and so forth.

I then asked, “So I don’t mean to pry, but what’s with your sudden change to nylons? I know you hated them, back when we were at home.”

She shrugged, not giving away any hint it was because of some secret society (that still might be entirely fictional), “Kane likes them, and I find they really accentuate my legs.” Kane was her boyfriend.

“You mom loved them,” I reminisced, missing her legs, her feet, her everything.

“Yeah, she always wore them,” Michelle agreed tenderly.

“Do you always wear them now too?” I asked, prying a little more.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“It’s crazy seeing my baby girl as an adult.”

“Yep, all grown up now,” she said before glancing at her phone. “Shoot, I’m going to be late.”

“Your first class isn’t for another hour,” I pointed out, glancing up at the clock.

“Oh, I’m meeting a classmate for breakfast.”

“Where?”

“At her dorm,” she said, giving me a hug and saying, “Love you.”

“Love you too,” I said, my first thought being that her breakfast might be pussy… black pussy. In one way that might be pretty obvious by now. In another way it was still unthinkable!

I shook the unthinkable thought out of my head (if that’s not an oxymoron), as our entire conversation and my sly interrogation hadn’t really given me any evidence she was part of a secret sex society. Kane was white, I’d met him a couple of times, and he was a very polite young man, so if she was wearing nylons for him, it could very well mean she was oblivious to, or had rejected the temptations of this secret society. Or that such a society didn’t even exist, although that possibility I kept clinging to, seemed less and less likely every time I thought about it.

I went and showered and headed to work, feeling a little nervous about what might lie ahead for me, especially today.

Okay, a lot nervous.

Yet even as I anticipated some sort of craziness to come leaping out at me… nothing happened.

I did bump into Sarah in the staff lounge (her ubiquitous nylons today were mocha), and she enquired sweetly about how I was enjoying my new job, and I asked her how she was enjoying the semester so far. I went to pour myself some more coffee, and asked if she wanted any more. She said sure. I asked how she took it, and she answered, seeming to stress the word, although it could have been my imagination, “BLACK.”

I laughed, as I had always drunk mine black too, “Hey, I drink it that way too.”

“Yeah, no reason to adulterate a perfect beverage,” she smiled.

“Agreed,” I said.

We went our separate ways, and I was happy to feel my cock was hard, knowing it was because of Sarah. Sarah and her pretty face. Sarah and her great legs. Sarah and her pantyhose. Sarah and her nice ass as she walked away. Just Sarah. Not… let’s not even go there.

That evening Mike texted me: How was your day?

I responded: Uneventful, except I had a nice conversation with Sarah.

He suggested: Ask her out.

I replied: I haven’t asked a woman out in over twenty years.

He said: Do it! What have you got to lose?

I replied: Nothing I guess.

He said: Exactly.

I replied: I’ll think about it.

He replied: Do it!

I graded some papers and planned the next day’s lessons, telling myself I needed to stop worrying about Jamal and this weird secret society nonsense, and to focus on work and maybe, just maybe, asking out Sarah.

…..

The next day I arrived at my office early, hoping to enter the grades from the papers I’d graded last night into the computer records, when I found some Polaroids littering my desk. (Who still even has a Polaroid camera nowadays?) There were a dozen of them. Each of a black cock. Some with lips wrapped around them, all female, a couple of them shooting cum, and all of them big and hard. There was also a typed note, unsigned:

Professor Future Bottom Bitch:

Is there any particular dick here you’d prefer over the others?
One for that cock sucking mouth of yours.

One for that virgin ass of yours.

That was it.

Fuck!

How brazen!

I couldn’t believe someone had snuck into my office and scattered all these photos across my desk. I wanted to ask my secretary if she’d seen anyone, but she wouldn’t be in for another twenty minutes.

I should have thrown those pictures in the garbage, yet I spent the next few minutes perusing them.

Each dick was so big.

So thick.

And, although I’d never considered it before, even during the rare times I watched porn (which truthfully wasn’t all that often, I just found the scenes so over-the-top and unbelievable (which yes I know seems ironic, if the secret society was actual) that I preferred reading erotica, and sometimes writing a bit of it myself), but this time I couldn’t believe how hot an action photo of a cock shooting cum could be.

I was still examining them, when my door opened and a deep male voice said, “I see you like the pics I left for you.”

I quickly pushed them off my desk as I looked up, and saw Jamal leaning against the doorway. “You left them here?”

“Yeah, I figured since you seemed so beguiled by my cock, I should give you a few pictures of some other nice big black cocks for you to drool over,” he explained, a smug grin on his face.

“I should report you,” I said.

“But you won’t,” he said. “We both know that.”

“I don’t think we do,” I said, trying not to display any weakness.

“Yeah, we do,” he said. “I could walk over to you and shove my cock in your mouth right now, and you couldn’t do anything to stop me. But I want you to come to me. I want you to beg for my dick.”

“Not going to happen,”

“Oh, but it will,” he smirked. “Oh, it will.”

He then simply turned and left.

“What the fuck?” I swore, more to myself than anyone else.

What just happened?

A minute later my secretary Jane walked in and asked, “Is there anything I can do for you, Professor Barber?”

I looked at her and her white nylons and replied, “No thanks, I’m just getting ready for my lecture.”

She walked over and bent down, and horrified, I realized what she was doing, so I leapt to my feet and said, trying to appear casual but totally failing, “Don’t worry about those, I’ll get them.”

“No worries,” she said, picking up one that was upside down and turning it over. “Oh, I see.”

“That’s not what it looks like,” I said, humiliated to be caught with pictures of black dicks scattered around my office.

“What it looks like is that they’re targeting you next.”

“Who would be targeting me?” I asked, playing dumb.

“Oh,” she said casually (successfully), gathering up all the photos and placing them on my desk in a neat stack. “You’ll see soon enough. And you should hang onto these.”

She then strolled out as if nothing of note had happened, as I noticed her nylons had a sexy seam down the back. Was she too a submissive to black pussy and cock? It seemed that she was. She was married with three kids, and was quite chubby… but she was Latina, not quite white, and she had huge tits and an amazing big booty. I couldn’t help but imagine her body really rocking while getting railed by a big black cock.

Fuck! I needed to get my head out of the gutter!

Sadly, I realized I was hard again.

I decided I needed another coffee. I went to the lounge, and was pleasantly surprised to see Sarah there, in a nice red business suit and tan nylons. “Hey, good looking,” she greeted with her dazzling smile.

“Hi, Sarah. You’re here early today.”

“Yes, I had an early breakfast meeting.”

“I hope it was fruitful,” I said, a joke I always made about breakfast meetings and fruit. It’s lame, I know.

“Oh yes, it was quite a fulfilling breakfast,” she said casually. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Same as always, prep, teach and grade,” I said.

“Well, we can’t have you stuck in a rut,” she objected smoothly. “Why don’t we go out for dinner tonight?”

“What? Really?” I asked, aiming for sounding willing, but not too enthusiastic.

Yes, it will be fun.”

“Yeah sure, I’d love to.”

“Great, it’s a date then.”

“Yeah, yeah, a date,” I nodded, sounding like an overeager high school student.

“Meet me at Dane’s at seven,” she suggested.

“Sure,” I nodded, trying to dial down my excitement a little.

“Great, see you then,” she said with a warm smile.

I watched her leave, adjusted my throbbing dick, and poured myself a black coffee. This was too good to be true!

I was headed back to my office, when I realized I had to piss. I walked down the 900 hallway, when I recalled the bathroom I was approaching was supposedly the gay one. Yet I really had to piss, and it was almost an hour before any classes were starting… so I figured it should be empty.

It wasn’t.

A white chubby student was on his knees, bobbing on a tall, slim, black student’s big cock.

I should have immediately turned around and walked out, but I was about to piss myself, so I headed to a stall. (Not a urinal, since I wanted to get out of sight as quickly as possible.)

“Hi, Professor Barber,” the black kid said, as I scurried nervously past him.

I wasn’t certain, but he might have been a student in one of my freshman classes. It was too early in the semester to recognize all 100 or so students in each of my classes.

I didn’t respond as I closed the stall door, and hurriedly yanked out my dick to pee.

“That’s it slut, suck my big dick,” the guy urged, just as my stream of piss began spraying into the toilet.

One would figure he’d be embarrassed at being discovered by a professor while receiving head, yet that definitely wasn’t the case.

“Tell me how much you love black cock, faggot,” he said in a loud voice, obviously playing to the crowd (me).

“I love black cock so much,” the chubby one responded on cue.

“Do you want my cock in that fat ass of yours?”

“Really? Yes, please,” he responded, sounding desperate to get fucked.

“There’s a professor in the stall listening in on us; does that matter?” the black guy asked, clearly enjoying humiliating the kid, and also demonstrating to me the power he had.

“I don’t give a shit what he hears,” the chubby kid said. “Just bend me over the counter and fuck me!”

“You sure?” the black kid asked, clearly amused.

“Yes, yes, let’s show that reluctant professor what he’s missing!”

Reluctant? And the white student was calling me that? Was the entire school monitoring the progress of my seduction (if you could call it that)?

“Good idea. Pull down your pants and bend over, faggot.”

“Yes, sir,” the chubby kid responded eagerly, addressing someone his own age by a term usually reserved for elders or military officers.

I’d finished pissing, but now I was frozen with indecision. Did I walk out, wash my hands and act as if nothing was happening? Did I wait in here until they were done? Did I storm out asserting all of my faculty authority (if I had any), and stop this twisted act of humiliation in its tracks?

“Oh fuck,” the kid groaned, as he was obviously getting his ass filled.

“Such a tight ass for such a fat one,” the black kid taunted.

“Oh God, fuck my fat ass, fuck it good.”

“You have a girlfriend, faggot?”

“No,” he moaned, as I began to hear their bodies colliding.

“You’re probably too busy sucking cock and getting fucked.”

“Oh yes, the app gives me all the black cock I can handle,” he moaned.

There’s even an app for finding black dicks to service?! He can’t be serious! I stuffed my hard cock away, it continuing to betray me, and prepared to leave. I wasn’t going to let this guy get to me.

“Yeah, that was a great idea this year.”

“Yeah, I fucking love it,” the chubby guy groaned.

“I bet you do.”

I flushed the toilet to alert them I was on my way out.

“You ready for my load in your fat asshole?”

“Oh yes, breed me with your black cock,” the guy moaned, sounding very feminine.

I walked out, thinking I could just leave, but found myself stopping and staring at the action.

“Hey Professor, make sure to wash your hands,” the black kid jeered, as he railed his chubby, moaning bitch. Did I just call the kid a bitch? A guy’s bitch?

“Oh fuck! Professor, are you getting your share of black cock?” the chubby kid asked through his whimpering.

“No,” I said, as I walked to the sink and washed my hands, trying to make it look like none of this was fazing me at all.

“Oh, but he will,” the black kid said.

“Hurry up and dive in, Professor, you’ll love it,” the white kid said.

“Here it comes, faggot,” the black kid said, and then spewed his load into the fat kid’s ass.

“Oh yes, breed me,” the kid moaned.

I finished washing my hands, didn’t take the time to dry them and began to leave, as the black kid pulled out and asked, “You sure you don’t want some of this, Professor Barber?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I said, but I couldn’t help but glance at his cock… which was huge, and currently had cum dripping from it.

“Yeah, I should leave you alone,” he said as I hurried past him. “Jamal has already claimed you.”

I continued walking, surreptitiously adjusting my hard cock once I was safely in the deserted hallway, and returned to my office.

I closed my door, locking it this time, and jerked off… trying to ease the throbbing in my dick.

I shot my load in record time, as I glanced down and saw a photo of a black cock in someone’s mouth.

Fuck, this was really getting out of hand!

Brushing off everything, especially the guy’s words ‘Jamal has already claimed you’, I eventually went and taught my class. Three black female students sat in the front row with white girls massaging their feet… all three white girls wearing nylons.

Once the class had ended and people were leaving, I looked up and saw a black male student standing near the back with what was undeniably a head bobbing up and down, as a few students idly stood around watching.

I sighed and called out, “Please take whatever that is somewhere else.”

“I’m just helping my buddy get his morning protein,” the black student called back.

“Yeah, he looks really hungry,” a redheaded female student giggled, as I saw a black girl squeezing her ass.

“Are you hungry?” her black girl asked politely.

“Actually I’m starving,” she agreed, and the black girl took her hand and led her out of my class.

“Now,” I said firmly.

“Hold your horses, Professor; he’s almost got me there,” the black kid objected.

I sighed and decided this battle wasn’t worth fighting, as he grunted, “Swallow it all.”

As I walked down the hallway, a pretty blonde was massaging a large black girl’s shoulders, while a chubby brunette was sucking on her toes.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered to myself as I headed to my office.

I walked past the 900 bathroom, and saw Jerry, one of the teacher assistants, walking out. He saw me and greeted, “Hi, Professor Barber.”

“Hi, Jerry.”

“How was class?” he asked, walking up to me.

“Uneventful,” I said, noticing he had a wad of cum on his chin. So I pointed out, “I think you have something on your chin.”
“Shoot, do I?” he said, as he scooped up the cum and put it in his mouth and asked chattily, “Don’t you hate it when you forget to clean up afterwards?” as I saw two white students going into the bathroom, and heard some guy inside groaning.

“Are you going in there?” he asked, seeing me looking at the door.

“God, no!”

“Are you sure? There are a few huge bulls in there right now.”

“Jesus, does everyone do this?” I asked.

“Huh? You don’t?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“No,” I said firmly.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” he cautioned.

“Oh, I think I’ll be okay,” I said, shaking my head, as a large black man walked out, still zipping himself up.

“Okay, whatever,” he said, as he walked away unconcernedly.

I reached my office and collapsed into my chair. This was getting completely out of control.

Yet… once again… I was hard.

This time I pushed those thoughts out of the way, since I had a luncheon meeting with the head of my department.

I freshened up and headed across campus.

Along the way, I bumped into my son.

“Hey, dad,” Jason greeted, holding hands with a very pretty redhead.

“Hi, Jason,” I replied.

“Tiffany, this is my Dad; he’s a new professor here,” Jason introduced.

“A pleasure to meet you, Tiffany,” I said, as I glanced down to see she was wearing jeans.

“You too, Professor Joe,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Apparently she’d already known my name.

“I hope not all of it bad,” I joked.

“No, Jamal says you’re great,” she assured me politely, as I glanced down and noticed her flats revealed black nylons.

“J-J-Jamal?” I stammered.

“Yeah, he’s a great guy.”

“Do you know Jamal, Jason?” I asked.

“Who doesn’t?” Jason answered, although his answer still gave me no clue whether he was part of the submissive white culture.

“Shoot, I need to get going, I’m going to be late,” I said, as my phone’s reminder app buzzed that my meeting was in five minutes.

“I’ll tell Jamal you said hi,” she said.

“No, please don’t do that,” I urged her, as I headed off.

I reached the main building, and hurried to Dave’s office, not having the time to process what that strange conversation had meant, or might have implied.

The meeting went fine, even though I wondered whether a 68-year-old man could possibly be part of this ever-growing crowd of submissives… it certainly didn’t seem likely.

We discussed the road to my eventual tenure, my class load, and what it was like for me to move here from a small town. Giving him generic answers, and certainly not mentioning any secret society, it was the most relaxed I’d been in a couple of days… when this meeting with a superior could have been stressful.

I was returning to my office, having office hours from one to three on Thursdays, when I bumped into Elaine Harris.

She greeted me brightly, “Hi, Joe!” then asked right up front, “Still straight?”

“Hi yourself. Yeah, still straight. Still not getting any BBC?” I countered snarkily.

“Not yet,” she replied cheerily, completely unfazed by my attitude. “But soon, very soon.”

“And you’re okay that your husband sucks dick and gets fucked?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty hot, and we don’t keep any secrets from each other.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Actually, it’s brought us closer as a couple.”

“How?”

“I can’t explain how, or even why, but it does.”

“Well, I’m happy it works for you two.”

“You’ll understand very soon.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I do; I know so,” she said, as she strolled away, looking completely respectable in a long dress and black nylons.

I arrived at my office, and met with three students: two Hispanic guys and one Asian girl, not wearing nylons. It was 2:30 when I headed to the washroom… although this time going to the faculty one.

Yet as I was heading there, I decided I couldn’t just wimp out and avoid certain bathrooms, so I went to the one closest one, which hadn’t been mentioned as ‘designated’ by Mike in his list of the bathroom sex specialties.

I walked in, and at first I thought it was empty, until I walked into the last stall, needing to do more than just piss, and I almost crashed into a tall black student, getting his dick sucked by a white one.

“Hey, Professor Joe,” the black student said, one I recognized from one of my classes.

“Oh, I’ll use a different….” I began, as I looked down and saw as expected, a big black cock, but not as expected was the guy whose mouth was wrapped around it. “Derek?” Derek had once joined Jason and me for lunch. Nice kid. Very talented member of the football team.

Derek opened his eyes as the black kid said conversationally, “Oh, you two know each other. Are you cock sucking buddies?”

“What? No!” I said. “He’s my son’s friend.”

“Oh, so your son and he are cock sucking buddies.”

‘I don’t think so,” I said, as Derek looked humiliated, but he kept sucking.

“He’s really good, if you want to blow a load in his mouth once I’m done,” he offered, still casually friendly, as if we were meeting over a backyard fence.

“What? God, no!”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged. “Unless you want to join him, and you guys can bond by sucking my cock together.”

“Jesus Christ,” I said as I looked down; Derek had closed his eyes again, and was bobbing hungrily.

“What? You’re not a cock sucker, Professor?” he asked. “I mean you’d be the only one who isn’t.”

“No, I’m not,” I said proudly, although sounding a bit like a stuffed shirt.

“Well, I imagine it’s only a matter of time,” he said, as he switched gears from being sucked, to face fucking Derek.

As usual, I did nothing to stop the inevitable; I just watched, as the star receiver of the football team was face fucked by some black kid.

Finally I managed to break the spell I was under, and turned and left as the black guy groaned, “That’s it, cock sucker! Deep throat my black cock!”

I still hadn’t pissed or taken my number two, as I scurried out and headed for the faculty bathroom, where it should be safe.

I finally took a seat on the pot, and pondered. Jason’s girlfriend knowing Jamal and wearing nylons; his friend Derek sucking dick; the odds my son wasn’t a cock sucker were getting longer and longer.

It was a couple hours later, six o’clock, I was wrapping up at the office to go home and get ready for my date with Sarah, when I heard the voice I most didn’t want to hear. “Hey, Professor.”

I looked up from my desk and sighed. “What can I do for you, Jamal?”

“It’s not what you can do for me,” he said, sauntering in and closing my door, “it’s what I can do for you.”

“Please leave the door open,” I ordered.

“No, I think you’ll prefer it closed,” he refused, as he proceeded to my desk.

“Jamal, I’m not like the rest of them,” I said nervously.

“The rest of whom?” he asked, as he now stood before me, his crotch inches from my face.

“You know what I mean.”

“Enlighten me,” he said, his cock so big, I could see it bulging in his pants.

“I’m not gay.”

“I never thought you were,” he replied. “In fact very few of my cock suckers and bottom boys are. Christ, you saw Professor Harris: he loves taking my cock, and he’s happily married. I’m even told that he and Elaine have a very active sex life together… they’re happy as clams!”

“Let me be perfectly clear,” I said. “I am not gay, or bi, or even curious.”

“Yet you’re staring at my crotch,” he said as he pulled his sweats down, adding, “Allow me to give you a better look.”

“Jesus Christ Jamal, put that thing away!” I yelped, as his cock flopped out and almost slapped me in the face.

“You can pretend all you wish, you can deny all you wish,” he intoned, “but Professor, you can’t overcome fate, DNA and natural selection. They constitute a formidable lineup against you.”

“Natural selection?” I asked, as I struggled unsuccessfully to avoid staring at his cock.

“Yes, white men’s purpose is to suck and to be fucked by black cock,” he said pedantically, sounding like he was the professor. It’s in part human nature, but also I believe, racial karma.”

I went to stand up, but he placed his hands on my shoulders and… very gently, not at all forcefully… pushed me back down into my chair. For some reason, I complied.

“Look, I’ll tell you what,” he offered reasonably. “I’ll keep my dick out in front of you for ten minutes. If you can resist touching it for that long, I’ll just leave.”

“Easily achieved,” I agreed to the simple trial.

“I’m sure it will be,” he agreed equably, as he moved his cock near my lips.

“But you must remain seated the entire time, facing forward,” he added.

“Sure, why not?”

“Isn’t my black cock impressive, Professor?”

“It’s big, but so what?” I opined, then wondered why I’d opened with ‘it’s big.'”

“Oh, certainly size matters, but it’s more than simply its size,” he continued his learned lecture. “I mean, there are even a few white guys with horse cocks. Shit, I once fucked a minister in his church, who had an eleven inch cock. It was bigger than mine, but he was still the bottom.”

“Okay,” I said, even as I imagined this cock about an inch from my face fucking a minister.

“Yes. You see, size is indeed a factor, as is the ability to use it, but the truth is, there is simply something all-encompassing, all-powerful and hypnotic that comes with having a black cock. Did you know that men of all professions in the local community: doctors, lawyers, politicians, teachers and more, use the new cock sucker app we’ve recently begun offering, to facilitate their privilege of sucking black cock or getting fucked?” Now he sounded more like the pitch man on an infomercial.

“No, I didn’t,” I replied, even though there was indeed something hypnotic about his cock… it was just so visually stimulating. I couldn’t explain it, but my cock was hard, and his dick right in my face was making me horny in the same way nylons on a woman always did. I then asked, to confirm what I’d heard about it earlier today, “Actually, I did hear about that. There really is such an app?”

“Certainly! You simply log in and activate your location sender, and then black studs can see you’re available and invite you over; or if they prefer, they can come to you to get serviced,” he explained. “I fucked a cop two days ago in his patrol car, I face-fucked a groom on his wedding day at the church while his brand new wife looked high and low for him, and last week I fucked an eighteen-year-old on his birthday, while my buddies fucked his older brother, his dad, and his grandpa. Then we all sat down and chatted together while we shared his birthday cake.”

“Bullshit,” I said, all this malarkey just too wild to believe.

“Why would I lie?” he said as he traced my firmly clenched together lips with his fat cock head. “I can always get all the cock suckers, all the bottoms, and all the white pussy I need.”

“Then why hassle me?”

“Well, we can’t have one holdout working here,” he said. “I’ve fucked every professor here, as well as the Dean.”

I didn’t say another word since if I did, his cock might slip into my mouth.

“I see you’re still fighting it. But a growing part of you longs to suck my dick. Admit it.”

I shook my head no, still keeping my mouth tightly shut.

“Tell you what. You still have six more minutes to endure, but I could leave right now. All you have to do is stand up and show me you’re not hard right now.”

I sighed.

“You’re hard as fuck, aren’t you?” he chuckled.

“Not because of you.”

“No? Do you find your students’ essays that stimulating?”

I didn’t speak. What could I say? It was obvious I was hard because of him. I couldn’t explain why, but it was the truth.

“Yep, you’re dying to suck this big black cock,” he said confidently. “And likely you’re dying to feel it deep in your ass, too.”

“No, I definitely don’t want to be ass fucked,” I said, then realized I’d just implied I was okay with sucking his cock.

“No? Just sucking cock?” he leapt on my lapse. “Yeah, some white boys are just cock suckers. Many are only that for quite some time. Eventually though, they almost always end up wondering what a dick feels like up their ass.”

“I don’t…” I began to say I don’t know what, but he stoppered me up by sliding his cock in my mouth.

“Now the liberty I’ve just taken doesn’t mean you’re a cock sucker… or not yet, anyway,” he explained my new ground rules. “Now you must just sit there and try not to begin bobbing. But your mouth was simply too inviting not to give it the privilege of feeling a dick in it. Think you can last four more minutes without actively participating?”

I should have backed off or pushed him away the moment he’d shoved his dick in my mouth… yet I didn’t.

“Doesn’t it feel good to have this big black cock in your mouth, Professor?” he asked. “Doesn’t it feel natural?”

I was paralyzed with indecision.

Shocked by what had just happened.

I remained frozen.

With a dick in my mouth.

With a big black cock stretching my mouth.

Yet, as long as I didn’t move, I wasn’t a cock sucker.

I hadn’t been the one to put it in my mouth.

I wasn’t sucking.

Three more minutes, give or take, and I’d win.

He’d said he wouldn’t bother me any more, and I believed him.

But God, it felt so… so… so… I hated to say it, hated to use his term, but ‘natural’ was the perfect descriptor.

“I know, I know,” he said sympathetically, and I believed him.

He wasn’t pressuring me.

Except of course by sticking his dick in my mouth.

And leaving it there while it grew harder.

“The temptation to suck is growing, isn’t it Professor?”

Fuck! He was right! A growing curiosity was building inside me. It was so tempting to bob… just once.

“You’re thinking… maybe just once. Just one bob,” he said, reading my mind. “But one bob will automatically lead to two, and before you know it, you’ll be a cock sucker. Not that that’s a bad thing.”

I hated the way he was reading my mind.

I was getting so horny. So captivated by this cock in my mouth.

“Tell you what,” he made a new offer. “I’ll just slide in and out five times to let you know what it feels like. It won’t count unless you decide to continue after those five. Okay?”

I couldn’t respond since his dick was in my mouth, but after a few seconds, his cock began to move in and out… not all the way out, mind you….

So how did I react?

I moaned.

“There you go,” he said, and his five brief thrusts had stopped almost as soon as they’d begun.

My cock flinched. My mouth watered. My head spun.

“Did you like that?”” he asked. “How it felt? Do you want some more? Do you want to take control and suck my big cock like the natural submissive you are?”

I was overwhelmed.

I’d already allowed him to put his cock in my mouth.

I’d already allowed him to fuck my mouth, albeit very briefly.

I was still allowing his cock to be in my mouth.

Some words sound like what they mean, and one of those words is ‘eschew’.

I wasn’t eschewing this cock.

Why not?

I wasn’t gay.

I wasn’t a cock sucker.

Fuck, I had a date with Sarah, the hottest women I’d ever met in my life, and I was supposed to meet her in forty-five minutes.

Yet I wanted more of this cock, and I knew she’d understand; and being the cock slut she was (I wasn’t judging, it was just a known and acknowledged fact she would never deny), she’d even encourage me to go for it!

Those five gentle thrusts had felt so good! I couldn’t explain why or how, but they’d just felt so natural.

I wanted more of them.

Just a couple more bobs.

Or maybe just one.

“Two more minutes,” he said. “If you don’t start sucking in two minutes I’ll leave, but you’ll never again enjoy the privilege of my cock in your mouth.”

I’d already lasted eight minutes.

I could last two more.

I needed to last two more.

Yet I also desperately wanted to feel that cock moving in my mouth again.

I wanted it.

I needed it.

I increasingly craved it.

“Your lust is taking control,” he read me correctly. “You’re desperately fighting the urge to suck, to become the cock sucker you were born to be.”

‘Born to be’ sounded so ludicrous, yet at the moment it seemed he was right. I was fighting against every ounce of the lust inside me not to suck!

“One more minute,” he announced like a dispassionate timekeeper. “One more minute, and either you become a cock sucker, or you never get any black cock on this campus ever again. Your choice.”

I could do this.

I could hold out.

I could resist.

I had to resist.

I could break that ridiculous secret society.

I could do it.

I could.

I… fuck… it’s so hard in my mouth… so juicy… so big.

Fuck!

“Thirty more seconds, Professor cock sucker.”

God, I want to suck this big cock.

No, I have to be strong.

Just one suck.

It won’t make me gay.

He’s the one who shoved his dick in my mouth.

I didn’t put this dick in my mouth.

So hard.

So… fucking… hard.

“Fifteen seconds, and you never get this big, black cock in your mouth ever again,” he said. Never.”

Fuck! Now or never! Fuck!

“Ten seconds.”

Fuck…

Yes…

No…

So hard…

So big…

So juicy…

My mouth is so full of saliva…

“Five seconds.”

No.

No!

No!!

No!!!

Fuck it!!!!

I began bobbing.

Yay!!!!!

“With only two seconds left,” he said. “That was impressive.”

I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to suck.

Needed to suck!

I slid off my chair and lowered myself to my knees, carefully not allowing his glorious cock to leave my mouth.

“Such a natural,” he groaned as I bobbed on his big… fat… black… cock… rushes of adrenaline coursing through my very being… as my own cock throbbed in my pants.

I couldn’t explain the attraction, just like Mike couldn’t.

But now I understood it, just like Mike had said I would.

This was my place.

This was my purpose.

This just felt so right.

So natural.

So fucking good!

“Oh yeah,” he said. “And to think for a brief moment there, I thought you might be the first one ever to resist the temptation.”

I thought to myself how close I had come, literally just seconds from becoming the one to prove it was possible, yet… instead… I was now just another white cock sucker among many… and as crazy as it sounds after all my drama, I was completely fine with that.

I bobbed, taking more and more of his monster cock in my mouth… although there was no way I could possibly take it all.

I had perhaps five inches inside me, which was only half of this ridiculously long and thick dick attached to Jamal.

“Yeah, from now on you’ll be sucking down black cock like it’s coffee,” he said. “You’ll be so addicted. And so satisfied.”

I imagined that was true. Now that I was actually doing this, I couldn’t fathom never doing it again. Nothing in my life had ever felt so natural. I know it makes no sense unless you’ve been there, and yet that was the reality.

“But I need to be somewhere soon, so I need to drop this load and dash,” he said, as he grasped both sides of my head and began to royally face fuck me.

I gagged a couple of times as he shoved all ten inches in my mouth, but he didn’t stop.

It was humiliating just to be used like this, and yet somehow it turned me on even more.

“Oh yeah, Professor Faggot,” he grunted, “prepare to receive your first of many loads.”

I had no choice but to swallow, as I felt warm, viscous liquid squirting into the back of my mouth before sliding down my throat. I was surprised by its warmth. I’d never thought of that before, it wasn’t intense or anything, but noticeable; although it rushed down my throat so quickly, I didn’t really get to taste it.
Once he was done, he pulled out and said, “Welcome to the club, cock sucker.”

“Thanks,” I said awkwardly, as his huge cock dangled in front of me.

“Here’s the app you’ll want to register for,” he said, handing me a printed card.

“Thanks,” I repeated, as he pulled up his pants.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said. “I still have a virgin ass to deflower today.”

“I’m not ready for that.”

“No worries, you will be, just take your time. But for the record, you can suck as much cock as you like, but no one gets that asshole of yours until I’ve been there. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” I agreed, thinking that would be an easy commitment to fulfill.

“Now you’d better hurry,” he said. “You don’t want to be late for your date.”

He then walked out.

Say what? How did he even know about my date?

“Fuck,” I sighed, as I got off of my knees.

What just came over me?

I’d been so close to stopping him!

But no, I’d just had to let him win.

Fuck!

I glared down at the tent in my pants, “And don’t let me even get started with you, you turncoat!”

I sighed, stored the card in my wallet, and rushed home to change and brush my teeth; I certainly didn’t want any cock breath, if that was a thing, in my mouth.

My head was spinning the entire time.

Could I share a close relationship with someone who was a BBC-swallower and likely -fucker, and also assumedly a promiscuous pussy pleaser?

Would she want to date a man who’d just sucked a student’s cock? (I was pretty sure the answer to that one would be ‘Absolutely!’)

Why couldn’t I have just resisted a few seconds longer?

Why had it felt so good to have his cock in my mouth? To suck it? To be a cock sucker?

Could I resist the next cock? I was sure there’d be a next one, and the app card carefully stowed in my wallet wasn’t much of a vote of confidence in myself that I could.

Was my daughter a submissive to black women, and perhaps to black men?

Was my son a cocksucker too? And a bottom?

So many questions… no answers… but one… I was already craving more cock… black cock… big black cock.

Fuck!

As I walked into the restaurant, I adjusted the tight crotch of my pants, and saw she was already there, in a hot red dress. Fuck, she was so hot!

Fuck!

Could I become a contented cock sucker like Mike (I wasn’t ready at this point even to consider becoming a bottom as well), and have a woman who loved and accepted me for who I was, or rather for who I was becoming?

Only time would tell.

Damn, is she a fox!

EPILOGUE: Christmas Party at the Frat House (three months later)

I was on my knees sucking a big black cock.

To the right of me was my older son Jason with a BBC in his mouth.

To the left of me were my twin eighteen-year-old boys each with black meat in their mouth.

Behind me, my daughter had a cock in her pussy while she licked sweet black pussy.

Beside my daughter, was my girlfriend of almost three month, getting railed by some BC while eating some sweet black pie.

How we got to this special family dinner is a crazy, crazy story… but that is for another day.

THE END

Possible continuations:

School of Hard BBC Ch. 02

The main character discovers that the only thing better than a BBC in his mouth is a BBC in his mouth and ass, especially when his new girlfriend is there for support.

School of Hard BBC Ch. 03

Maybe the son story, maybe the daughter story, maybe both?

School of Hard BBC Ch. 04

The twins discover the joys of BBC too.