In a global fertility pandemic, who wins – if the Blacks have the seed and the Whites have the wombs
In a global fertility pandemic, who wins if the Blacks have the seed and the Whites have the wombs?
The middle-aged Black woman sitting at her desk looked at the pair opposite. Elie, the white wife, was a pale blue-eyed blonde with the girl-next-door vibe. The husband, David, was the most unremarkable man she had ever seen. He may be disgustingly rich, but he will soon find out what a real man looks like, and he had nothing on her Bulls. She put on her practised smile. “Welcome to the Black Breeders Club,” she said with the air of a head school teacher. “My name is Mistress Strict.” The white-trash couple didn’t react; maybe they were slow or just dumb. “I see you have had the preliminary tour?” No response- dumb, then. “I hope you found it satisfactory.”
The nodding couple was like one of those toys on the back windowsill of a car that wouldn’t stop bobbing. “I will take that as a yes.” She huffed, and pushing up her black-rimmed glasses didn’t make the couple any less white. “I presume you still want to join?” All that question did was make the nods quicker. She pointed at the video recorder on a tripod. “I need a verbal answer, for the record.” The yes that followed was so weak. “Louder,” she commanded, then grudgingly added, “Please.”
A multitude of yesses added to the rustle of nodding heads. This was going to be tedious; she had seen their type. They would sign up so the wife could wander around ogling big black cock, then they would go back home and fuck like rabbits for a couple of weeks, and thank God, she would never see them again. Her sigh was deep and heartfelt. At least she would extract a year’s membership out of him.
With the same fixed grin, she reached for a file and read out the name and address printed on the front. “Is that you?” Elie nodded. Mistress Strict sighed. “I need a verbal answer.” She couldn’t be bothered to point at the camera again.
“Yes,” came the barely audible whisper.
Mistress opened the folder. She didn’t need a second look. The full-page soft-focus image showed the woman opposite. She continued to peruse the pages; one thing caught her eye: she had to suppress her unintended shimmy of excitement; Elie’s urine sample had the correct hormone balance. In this sterility pandemic, that reading made the woman opposite a breeder.
She, the woman opposite, was worth her weight in gold. It was rumoured that the latest auction of breeders had the Arabs and the sub-Saharan brothels in a bidding war. Breeders went for millions a piece. Mistress leaned back; she already knew where her finder’s fee was going. This day couldn’t get any better.
Except it could. On the activity page, a big black cross marked the activity twenty-one box. She already knew which activity that was; the whole club did. Ever since the Black Supremacy Organisation had taken over the Club and set quotas, the breeder target had been missed. So far, no breeder had come through the door. Mistress flashed a smile; she was one signature away from a finder’s fee so big… big enough to pay off her Sun’s Sub-Saharan servitude fees, and she could finally get him home.
To keep her composure, she pretended to flip through the folder while making encouraging noises until Elie sat up. “Everything seems to be in order,” she said calmly, as if she wasn’t a volcano of joy about to erupt at getting her offspring back. Then she picked up the next folder and, in her best matronly voice, she read out the name and address. This time, David answered in a deep manly voice. – He was going to be a problem.
The second folder contained an enlarged, grainy picture that looked more like a mug shot than the man opposite. She slowly flicked through the pages, shaking her head exaggeratedly so even a man would notice. Like all men, except for the Sub-Saharan ones, he should have had no sperm count. She strategically placed a finger over the top of the page and flashed David the number written in big black letters. His sperm count. Her tutting and head shake weren’t exactly legal, but with BSO’s encroaching influence, no court would convict her. Luckily, he already thought it was low. That’s why they were here.
She flashed Elie a reassuring smile. “Rest assured, Madam. All our bulls are hand-picked.” Her wink was so small only a woman would notice. “And how should I say, completely tested?” This time her shimmy was obvious and left her ample breasts quivering in front of David’s face. Her black leather dominatrix outfit and low-cut cleavage were designed to do exactly that. And it worked. David would be completely distracted from now on. With that done, she could approach her main obstacle: his preferred activity. Turning to the activity page, she couldn’t believe her eyes. It was as if fireworks had gone off in her brain, and as the consummate professional she was, she managed to contain the explosion of elation to a pout.
She did one last flick through the folder to steady her nerves. Then opened both files to the activity page and crossed her arms to look serious. Then she leaned forward as if to impart important information. All David could do was ogle her cleavage. – No further action required.
“I noticed,” she said in her best Dominatrix voice. “I noticed you have both put a cross in box twenty-one.” She tapped the open pages, sending a vibration through her arm that her outfit amplified, making her breasts wobble even more. David’s eyes widened. Job done. “Please confirm that is correct,” she exaggerated, pointing at the recorder. That worked even better, and the look on his face said he was captured.
How completely emasculated he must be. All non-sexed men eventually clock out, and the women only had themselves to blame. But that didn’t matter; they would soon be getting their comeuppance. Quite literally!
Now, the tricky part. All she needed were two signatures, and she would be made for life. So slowly, she slid out two official legal documents and leaned back and flashed her best apologetic smile. “Unfortunately, the legal bit.” She squared up the paper in front of them and pretended to read. She had done this so many times she knew every word.
David stared at the document in front of him. “Looks important,” he said, frowning. She crossed her arms again and leaned forward, making sure her puppies were square on to him. He had been so emasculated; a cleavage was all it took for him to give away all their rights. On the other hand, her bulls, with all that real pussy, would not fall for such a lame trick. With that, she flashed Elie a reassuring smile.
“It is.” Mistress Strict admitted, then, unfazed, she continued. “As you notice,” she deliberately leaned over the document in front of him. “All Black Breeding Clubs are in what is referred to as a Unilateral Authority; that is, once inside their walls, State and Federal law no longer applies.”
Unfortunately, his eyes drifted from where they should be, down to the documents again. “Ges, that’s what all that legal mumbo jumbo is about,” he said, flicking through the pages.
Mistress reached out and slid a thumb inside his hand to tickle his palm. This was the classic penetration technique, and it only worked on sex-starved men. “We will come to that later,” she said, gently pushing his hand out of the way. “As you already know, this document is only legally binding in this and all other BB Clubs. Outside these walls, it is just as useless as the rest of them.” She shot David a quick, quizzical smile to make sure he was concentrating on something else.
“You mean, I mean,” Elie stammered. “If we don’t like the course, all we have to do is not come back?”
The sigh of relief was only in her head. She sat back, victorious, then slid her chair back and pretended to play with the camera. “Of course, once outside,” she continued, then exaggerated, crossing her legs so David got a good look at her G-string and stockings. Her buckled boots would soon become something his tongue got acquainted with. “Once outside,” she continued, “this contract is void.”
Within the community, it was an open secret that the Black Supremacy Organisation would make it compulsory for all breeders to report to a breeding club. For the first time, her smile became genuine. “For your convenience, once you step back into this club, your training will start where it left off.” She looked from one to the other. The couple looked blankly at her, just like the white trash they were. “Moving on.” Her hiss was her best Dominatrix yet. “Hold up page ten to the camera, and confirm that the mark in box twenty-one is yours, and state the activity you have chosen.”
“Whore training.”
And
“Whore training.”
This time, her smile was genuine. “Nearly done, just a few more legal bits to run through before you start the orientation tour.” She smiled at each of them. “Don’t forget, if at any time you don’t like anything, all you have to do is leave.”
This white trash had no idea how rich they would make her.
“So,” she said, almost yawning, as if this were boring. “Rules and regulations of Whore training.”
“One….. All rules and regulations herein are legally binding and non-negotiable; failure to comply will result in punishment, including spanking and, in extreme cases, caning up to but not including drawing of blood, and causing permanent injury.”
“Two… Whore training will commence on the first Saturday of every month and last two days. Interns will report to inspection for clearance and to be dressed accordingly. All uniforms and special protective equipment are to be worn at all times. Failure to comply… Blar blar.”
“Three…. interns who skip or are unable to attend a training session will immediately continue where they left off.”
“Four… You will call all black men and women Master and Mistress, and refer to yourself as,” She rolled out a finger and pointed at Elie. “White, or useless cunt slash whore.” Her finger then pointed at David. “While you are within these walls, you will be called limp dick, white boy, or sissy cunt.”
“Five…. In the presence of a black person, you will always adopt a submissive posture, head down, arms at your sides, eyes on the ground. Never be disrespectful, and make eye contact. Touching and even bodily invasion should always be tolerated, with arms and legs kept in the position indicated.”
“Six… You will comply with all orders from a Black person, provided they don’t contradict the club’s intentions and best practices. These orders will be acted on and carried out immediately and without hesitation. Failure to comply will be punished according to rule number one.”
“Seven…. For women, physical and/or oral contraception will not be allowed. This will include IDU, IUS, contraceptive implants and injections, combined pill, patch, vaginal ring, the use of male and female condoms, diaphragms and caps. It will also include any and all other methods. Herbal or not, that either reduce or stop fertility. The said intern will also comply with the reversal of any and all surgical methods of contraception.”
“Eight… For Man, they will wear an approved chastity cage at all times and submit to chemical castration until the offending appendage has blackened and fallen off. After that, hormone treatments will be given to advance gender transition, ending in gender reassignment surgery. Mistress Strict raised a hand to stop David’s question. “Questions at the end.” She snapped in her best Dominatrix voice.
“Nine……. Whore training curriculum.”
“Nine-A…. Interns will learn how to keep themselves healthy, clean and looking good, including deportment, stance and sensuality preparation. How to engage customers and brothel etiquette….”
“Brothel,” Elie interrupted, eyes widening.
Mistress nodded and sat back as if among friends, discussing the latest episode of a TV show. “Whore training, training to become a Whore,” she said; the flick of her head was meant to mimic an unreleased laugh. “It is, of course, only cos-play, fantasy. We don’t have a real brothel here.” She let out a hissing laugh. “When you graduate, you will have one of the world’s oldest occupations to fall back on. In fact.” She leaned forward, letting David ogle her again. “Some of our best trainees have secured positions in the world’s finest bordellos.”
When Elie glanced at David, Mistress knew she had them. “Ever since I caught my father in a brothel, I have been fantasising about being a prostitute.” Elie blurted out, as if her tongue had touched something hot.
Mistress shot Elie a reassuring smile. “You are not alone. It’s surprising how many women have that fantasy.” She deliberately ignored David’s hiss and even blocked him to let the moment pass. “Moving on.”
“Nine-B… Interns will learn how to use bondage and BDSM equipment safely and securely. This will include restraints, bondage furniture, genital and sexual play, sensory deprivation, physical stimulation, and sexual stimulation. A full list is available on our Interactive page. We recommend you review all our content, as once training starts, all activities are mandatory.”
“Nine-C…..Oral Sex, pussy licking and rimming. Interns will be fully schooled in the art of tongue arousal and rimming, blowjobs and skull fucking. This includes safe and proper use of ball gags, mouth spreaders, penis gags, and pony-bit gags. All and any other accessories a client may require, including massaging to orgasm.”
“Nine-D…..Anal. Interns will be taught proper positions and will submit to training up to and including full penetration. Vaginal and anal trainers will be required to be worn at all times. Failure to comply will be punished.”
“Nine-E… Rape training. Interns will learn how to respond to all situations. As we have a stage and the ability to build sets, we can incorporate a comprehensive range of rape scenarios. Trainees will learn how to deal with most scenarios. As all rape training is compulsory, failing a scenario will mean automatic enrolment in that scenario until it is passed.”
“Nine-F… Same-sex. Women on women, man on man. Our whores need the ability to bring both sexes to climax. Extensive training will be given in vaginal and anal stimulation, prostate massage, testicular and tit massage, and rimming. This will also include the proper and safe use of sex toys to bring your client to an inevitable climax.”
“Ten… Civics Reparations. Interns will be expected to do their bit for the Black homeless community, including sex-raisers and helping street prostitutes. We will arrange visits to an actual homeless area for orientation and awareness. At least one attendance is required for an intern to pass this course.”
“Eleven… The final exam will consist of a one-hundred-man gangbang to be completed in an eight-hour period. Tapping out or running out of time will be an automatic failure, and the course will have to be retaken until completion.”
“On graduation, each and every intern will receive their pink slip and automatically be enrolled as a permanent Whore for the BSO-controlled Black Breeders Clubs.”
With that, Mistress Strict put on her best smile and leaned back. She knew she had Elie; Limp dick was a bit harder. Nevertheless, she kept her finger hovering over the secret call button under her desk, just in case she needed a distraction. Outside the fogged-glass door, which was part of the decor dressed up as any ordinary vanilla office, was her secret weapon, Mistress Spank.
The poor girl was almost too white, but with special dispensation from BSO she was given an honorary pass. That made her very committed and the best Dominatrix in the whole place. Add to that the fact that she was exceptionally well endowed and had a training regimen that chiselled her hourglass figure. Then, trussed it up in a black PVC corset, G-string suspenders and fishnet stockings, with long laced boots that went all the way down to the ground. She was stunning.
Mistress Strict’s finger hovered as Elie looked at her husband as she shimmied in her seat, and all Limp dick did was scowl at the document in front of him. “Don’t like this castration thing,” he growled.
Arms crossed, Mistress leaned forward so David could get one last look, then tapped his folder for effect. “You’re sterile. You know, never have kids. Why put up with the reminder? Every time you have a shower, go to the toilet. It’s painless.” She lied. “A set of pills and it’s all over, peace at last.”
“And the sissyfication?”
“As far as you want to go. From being free or having a full and varied sex life.”
David gulped, “Like gender reassignment.” He growled, “And surgery?”
“Completely and utterly, with hormone therapy, most men won’t know. Even you will want to fuck what’s in the mirror.” Sliding the pens over like a dildo was the last straw. Elie squealed after she signed, and David slumped back in his seat. She had them – button pressed. The woman who entered was every inch the Dominatrix she was supposed to be. “This is Mistress Spank. She will take you to the initiation room.”
When the door closed, Mistress Strick slid her chair back. She had to finger herself and release all that pleasure. Still not satisfied, she couldn’t decide whether to go to the breeding cages and watch forced impregnation or witness a load of fresh wives experience real cock for the first time. Either way, she had the best job in the world.
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