DEBBIE’S MEETINGS Preface

By

Alfred Cassidy

A story of the AIDS virus

 1997. Winter. Forty miles south of Chicago

“Pull dat’ shit off,” Richard the Negro; #23 of

wing ‘Blue; voiced callously. This skinny, yet shapely
female--that #23 of wing ‘Blue stood behind in
slightly looking down at, and who of that slender
female, had been carefully planned to reach this
funneling stage of the Dark Disciples pipeline, now
said as being this Negro’s new, broken in white slave.
And so of this black man’s skinny, yet shapely white
slave, said because she of rolling green acres, had
come to be addicted to almost pure cocaine and, just
as much to that sniffing of almost pure cocaine,
having big black penises paining her all the way,
nearly all the time.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; she was so Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, because, she of rolling green acres, now
unwittingly moved in life as no longer being that of
an interracial, Midwest porno actress; mechanically of
left hand, uplifted the tight stretchy hem of her
short-sleeved, low-neck, clinging black cotton
miniskirt to her lightly freckled, smooth chest
looking fresh and good--that of a knotted, soft Rhine
gold chain graced to her slim, long matching neck. As
soon as her fit elbows helped in her hands tussling of
this black cotton miniskirt up and over her gorgeous
head, she breathed uneasily in clutching this thin,
black cotton miniskirt in her right hand. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz’s shoulder length, thick dark
golden-brown hair shook and breathed that of a glossy
shine of youth, and just as much to that grand part of
her slender, naked body sired near perfection, this
clean hair of hers, still held that of silky-looking,
corkscrew dangles rather fluffy and doll around her
perfume powdered face. And she of beauty first glance
seen to the beholden of man or flower, whether
superior or not, heard her black master say,
“Hmm...Hmm...Hmm,” as she mindlessly let fall her chic
dress to that of a clean, white carpeted floor soft
enough to sleep on. Sheer silk nylons hugging
comfortably tight up to and around her upper,
lilywhite forelegs looking shapely fit--that fancy
sewn and rather wide, soft elastic embroidered band to
the top of those sheer silk nylons, giving that sex
look known throughout the more important world, high
heel, platform combat boots to her near perfect feet,
giving that punk look to that more important world--
that of a knotted, soft Rhine gold chain graced to her
slim, long matching neck, she of being that of a new,
broken in white slave, once again heard from her black
master. “...Yeah. That’s what I’s’ likes in my nigger
hos’. No underwear. You always ready ta’ fuck, ain’t
ya, ho’? Damn, girl, you got small, perky ass. Look
like ah’ little boy. Hmm...Hmm...Hmm. Dis’ go good for
my shit.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; her chaotic emotions
totally flying every which way and not liking that
state of mind in the least bit; felt the uncaring
fingertips and opposable thumb of this black
stranger’s left hand, pull back her left buttock
cheek--that black stranger’s right middle finger,
roughly probing straight up her clean, flesh-pink anus
hole at the same time. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz cleared
her throat, now having her black master’s right middle
finger fully wiggling up and all around inside her
flesh-pink anus, and she knew that her cordate rear;
so creamy flesh-white and velvety smooth, was now
being inspected for that of tightness, inspected--as
slave.
“...Uh-huh,” she heard, “Jerome been tappin’ this
ass, ain’t he? Still feel tight though for my shit.
You got pink pussy, bitch, or did Jerome pound does’
lips black?”
“I. I guess.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s black master, still
inspecting his new, broken in white slave, pulled his
right middle finger out of her flesh-pink anus and
smelled that finger. “Damn, girl, you clean good.”
Saying that, her naked black master now breathed in
being in front of this his skinny, yet shapely white
slave. And he of ugly wide grin with mean-looking afro
brow; knew that she of white slave, would make for the
Dark Disciples at least $300,000, maybe $400,000,
before they of wing ‘Blue auctioned her off to the
block. This particular white slave; Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz;--as there were others’ from that of Midwest
harvest, had already made the Dark Disciples a clear
profit of $884,800, just from the many interracial,
Midwest X-rated movies that she had one or two scenes
in. So, from you knowing this pure evil USA, she of
rolling green acres; her twenty-year-old pretty face
looking doll perfume powdered; once again glanced down
in seeing that of a totally soft, gnarly, very thick
and crunched up vein-laden, black penis almost
reaching black knees. And even in this totally soft
and knotted, thick gnarly state of her black master,
it of such seemed to her gradual widening eyes of
gazing brown--as thick as Suzy Q’s resting forearm. To
grossly add to her lowered eyes unbelievable study,
her black master’s thickly knotted, totally soft black
penis even seemed to be thicker, the further she
naturally measured eyes up to her black master’s broad
base full of thick, crunched up, protruding bumpy,
soft veins seen, seen, in being covered in that of dry
black flesh looking crunched up and knotted. In and to
her staring gaze, her mouth, slightly open dumbly from
that of mental shock, she silently thought, “Jesus.
What the fuck?” From seeing what she breathed in
seeing, thinking what she thought about, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz really didn’t know if, if her black master’s
thickly dangling black penis--that of a huge vein, all
crunched up in the middle of her black master’s black
penis, told as being soft or semi-soft but, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz wasn’t afraid of the big ones’ that
hung straight down rather than stick straight out. She
of experienced Suzy Q had seen this’ all too often.
But, she of perfume powdered Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
and even clever Suzy Q, had never seen one as
frighteningly big and thickly vein-laden as this’. To
her Polish-American brown eyes judging the biggest
black penis that she had ever seen in her twenty years
of life, and she had seen plenty of black penises
within the last thirteen months or so, she of rolling
green acres, felt her bright, pinkish-brown nipples
being maliciously pinched by her black master’s,
uncaring index fingers and opposable thumbs. “Ow.” She
of innate gentleness’, let her black master know of a
girl’s light pain, and he of Negro skin, fiercely
shook her Cleopatra-sized breasts, while meanly
pinching harder of her eye-catching, luminous pinkish-
brown nipples gone involuntarily erect, from that of
pinching pain.
“What Ow’, ho’? You like dis’ porno shit, don’t
ya’? Answer me, nigger!” She felt more pinching pain,
her Cleopatra-sized breasts, being rapidly moved up-
and-down, even faster.
“Ow. Ow! Yes. Yes!”
“Yes, master, ho’!”
“Yes, master. Ow! That. That hurts!”
“Bitch, grab my shit and get it hard. You fucken’
nigger, ho’.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, her luminous pinkish-
brown nipples breathing pain’s relief and
involuntarily erect--that of a knotted, soft Rhine
gold chain graced to her slim, long matching neck,
took that of a half step forward, ever so bended at
the waist, if that, and took reverse hold of a
dangling down, thickly knotted soft black penis with
the both of her hands--like grabbing a baseball bat.
In so holding in her two weighing hands of what Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz thought as impossible, her
beautiful perfume powdered doll face, full of that
little girl, examining, squinting look, she began to
slowly, almost hesitantly, stroke dry black flesh back
and forth, the bottom of her studying, opposable
thumbs, feeling bumpy, crunched up veins stretching
out from that deep muscle she suddenly grew mindful
of, mindful, with that of soft, dry, squashy black
flesh all around that same deep muscle that she
suddenly found and apprehensively worked her hands
around. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz moaned, “Hmm,” and
then she cleared her throat. Stroking that way, a
first for this 20-year-old pretty girl standing nearly
erect of flexible spine, feeling the bottom of her
thumbs slide over that of a soft, thin, thick middle
vein that when glanced at by her, crunched up at least
six to seven inches in length, and this middle vein,
naturally connected to that of a soft black penis
muscle getting slightly harder in her two hands. In so
feeling this totally new experience in her feeling
hands, she slack of her little girl squint, suddenly
rut to that found deep muscle growing harder and
bigger, and then emotionally throated, “Hmm. You’re so
deep.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz smiled that of a pure
evil white smile in that Suzy Q, malevolent way.
Mindlessly rutting, knowing that she breathed in being
exposed to this black stranger’s black eyes, the
bedroom, warm to that howling, cold wind outside. She
shuffled both of her high heel, platform combat boots
forward several inches, and she did so, in spreading
her skinny, yet shapely legs ever so little, this, to
gain better balance of her lower spine gone nervously
relaxed, and then she forced her whole body to feel
soft. Balance found to her lower back bare of cloth,
breathing softly through her slim, strong nose, her
very loose, soft pinkish, flesh-brown vaginal lips,
robotically spreading a little and loosely sagging
down and out, and in so knowing she to be fully
smiling in that pure evil, malevolent way, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz cupped her sliding hands toward her
black master’s grossly huge-looking, soft black-
colored helmet-capped ending. Now coming to stand a
tad straighter of spine well flesh-covered and
rippling good muscle rather thin and sinewy, she ran
the bottom of her studying thumbs atop and over her
black master’s grossly huge, soft black penis head.
Studying this of what she so felt from that of her
thumbs feeling to palms fingers, and doing so in now
having the bottom front part of her clean, top teeth
lightly resting on her top, lower natural pink-red
lip, and once again, having the fresh expression of a
little girl seeing of the impossible, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz silently thought to this her thumbs latest
feeling. “...Jesus. Look at the size of this fucken’
head. How does it even fit in?” Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz felt as she twirled soft dough getting hard
in her hands, until she found that deep muscle, again.
She thought, “...Oh, no. This motherfucker.” Done with
this her sizing up eyes and feeling thumbs study to
palm, her slightly cupped left hand and right palm
feeling, feeling to those hands that of a weight she
had never felt before, pressing her pink-red lips
together then, instinctively swallowing spit, she
severly gripped the near top of her black master’s
member--like holding a baseball bat, and began to
slowly stroke down dry black flesh then, stroke her
hands back up, and then back and forth. In and to her
stroking back and forth, the bottom of her opposable
thumbs, started to feel leveling, thick veins
stretching out with that of unhurriedly hardening,
deep and long, muscled flesh surrounded by squashy,
semi-soft black flesh. And to her Polish-American
brown eyes full of astonished wonder, her black
master’s grossly huge black penis, grew even bigger in
her slowly stroking hands. She thought, “O’ my, God,
Patty. Look at the size of his fucken’ vein.” In so
having her Polish-American brown eyes seeing what said
as being subconsciously impossible, she didn’t even
hear her black master say, “Smile when you see my
shit, ho’.” So big--that she couldn’t even wrap her
artistic-looking fingers and opposable thumbs, all the
way around that hardening muscle she worked her hands
around. Thinking Miss Patricia Olkeweitz of
experienced Suzy Q, this... “My, God. Look at his
base, its so fucken’ thick. And it’s not even hard,
yet.”
Now, to say of this slave pipeline that had been
meticulously planned by the lord and master of the
Dark Disciples, and so planned at this funneling stage
of that pipeline for that of fresh party girls, such
as Miss Patricia Olkeweitz of rolling green acres, fat
Mike White; #1 of wing ‘Blue; always recruited into
his wing’--that of innately criminal, Negro-American
males that had grossly huge penises. And but of course
fat Mike White; #1 of wing ‘Blue; had inspected to see
if they of Negro-American skin did so have grossly
huge penises. To add, it said as being more than easy
to recruit innately criminal, Negro-American males
but, it was rather difficult finding Negro-American
males that had an overtly thick penis twelve inches
and over. But find and recruit he did for this stage
of the Dark Disciples pipeline. That funneling stage,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz now unwittingly found her
little tail snared in...
“Ho’, go over and get one does’ pillows.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; still staring downward
at that grossly huge, semi-soft black penis, breathed
in being so amazed to what she felt in her softly
stroking, weighing hands; that she did not even
compute to mind of what her black master just now
commanded of her. “...Yoah, asshole! Get the fucken’
pillow!”
She let go of what she had been slowly stroking
back and forth, seeing thick and heavily vein-laden,
dry black flesh swing down in being what she knew as
semi-soft.
“Holy, shit!” she piqued aloud, with that of a
fast white doll smile on her mentally shocked face
showing giddiness, seeing what she had never seen
before, until now. Slightly raising her elfin chin--
this chin throwing her silky, thick hair to the left,
she blinked and said, “Wha...What?”
“Pillow.”
Naturally, she of sound mind--that Suzy Q seemed
hell-bent on subduing, glanced at the king size bed
resting majestically to the right and she walked to
near this bed to get her black master a pillow. She
knew she was now to lay down with the black man. To
and from her fetching for her black master, her
little, boy-looking buttock cheeks swished fast from
having high heel, platform combat boots to her near
perfect feet, sheer silk nylons, hugging tight around
her skinny, yet shapely legs--that of a knotted, soft
Rhine gold chain graced to her slim, long matching
neck. That fancy embroider; white in color and rather
wide, elastic band holding up those sheer silk nylons,
and this all’, causing her to look naturally sexy to
that fast swishing, twenty-year-old, baby-white
smooth, silky rear of hers so palm-fitting. Walking to
where her mean-looking, black master stood in being
stark naked; her curt and lightly dark hair-covered,
near perfect Venus mound, stimulating to nearly any
eye beholden of such; her Cleopatra-sized breasts,
showing erect, pinkish-brown nipples, she raised the
white pillowcase pillow so as to give this fetching
thing to her black master.
“Bitch, put it on the floor. And put that ass up
to me.”
“What? Oh, no. Please. Not that.”
“Nigger! Get the fuck on the floor!”
Before Miss Patricia Olkeweitz knew it, she heard
barking commands and soon breathed in lying face down
on that of a white carpet soft enough to sleep on, the
very front of her thin, snow-white hips, resting atop
that of a past fetched, white pillowcase pillow.
Breathing in that of total fear, staring blankly,
feeling helpless, knowing she to be raped, recalling
to mind of how grossly big her black master’s semi-
hard black penis looked as, and just as much, those
long, thick inches that stretched out from the start
of her black master’s thickly vein-laden, broad base
muscle, she heard, “Bitch, I just give you half my
shit, right now. I want dis’ white ass. A little tight
for da’ customers, tonight. Come on, you fucken’, ho’,
what is ya’ waiting for? Reach back and spread those
little ass cheeks of yours.” So commanded; breathing
in fast pants of fear, she pressed her left cheek to
soft white carpet, reached back with the both of her
petite hands and did of her black master’s command.
And she did so squint fast in feeling a sense of dread
and sudden embarrassment, knowing she of experienced
Suzy Q--that poor Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, never had
one this big up inside her flesh-pink anus, and so
embarrassed, because of winging back her palm-fitting
buttock cheeks, to the black eyes of a total stranger.
“...Hmm...Hmm...Hmm. Look at dat’ pink. You take
care of this girly ass, don’t ya’, ho? All tight and
trim around that porno pussy. Yeah. Feel that shit.
You pink all over. This go good.” Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz; her hands, holding her buttock cheeks,
heard her black master appraise, and he of the Negro
did so, with the pink-white palm of his black left
hand roughly rubbing all around her private area.
Seeing what she couldn’t see, but feeling fast,
uncaring rough brushing down there, involuntary
pleasure rushed all over her private area, and from
feeling the uncaring palm of a black stranger rub up-
and-down upon her outer vagina area, she moaned,
“Hmm,” and then forced herself to be soft. Her
American-born mind, shoo away the thought that she to
be raped any second now, raped, by the black man. Soon
feeling back there of what she had never felt before,
this, because the solid, nearly inflexible helmet-
capped start of her black master, just that big and
round in prodding her inner, left buttock cheek then,
prodding to the opposite right of her springy flesh.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz regained that of a further
grip of hands onto her small, cordate buttock cheeks
and pulled these boy-looking, snow-white cheeks
further back, and she did so in that of slow panting
fear. That white pillowcase pillow beneath her snow-
white, thin hips, made her know what she lay for. In
so having her private, creamy white flesh winged back
and ready for her black master to tear back gentle,
pink flesh within her, she of rolling green acres,
opened her brown eyes wide from surprise and fearfully
voiced from what she had never felt before. “...Oh,
no. O’ no. Please. Just. Start slow. Aw. Aw. Aw. Aw.
Oh, my, God. O’ my, God! Nooooooooooooooooooo!” Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz violently flew her head up-and-back
and attempted elbows forward escape, and she did so,
from that of a grossly huge, totally hard, thick black
penis finding and painfully flesh stretching its nine
and one-quarter inch, fast sinking start of her, and
to that fast, sudden drive of nine and one-quarter
inches of hard, grossly thick black flesh, she almost
felt gutted. Her silky dark golden-brown gloss hair,
wildly strewn all over her forehead and clean cheeks,
and felt she of rolling green acres, the back of her
neck being violently pushed down by the unsympathetic
left hand of her black master, this, as from the knees
up, she involuntarily kicked her sheer silk, nylon-
covered legs up-and-down in being painfully pinned to
the carpeted floor, a white pillowcase pillow beneath
her thin hips, the front toe area of her high heel,
platform combat boots, causing the carpeted floor to
thud in rhythm with each fast kicking leg of hers. And
to that three to four seconds of Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz kicking madly to escape, her black master,
painfully pining his uncaring left hand to the back of
her neck, feeling her rapidly kicking legs working, in
having almost two inches of her black master sliding
out of her painfully stretched out, flesh-pink anus,
she heard from her black master. “Bitch! Lay that shit
down! Or I’ll put this whole fucken’ thing, up in that
nigger ass of yours!”
“Awwaoooohhhh. Okay...Okay. Just let. Me. Ow.”
She fully rested her kicking legs to the white
carpeted floor--that white pillowcase pillow beneath
her snow-white hips, making her know what she lay for.
“...Ahhoww. You’re hurting. My neck.” And greatly she
relieve from that unwanted pain to the back of her
long-limbed, lanky neck. “Thaa-aahthanks’.” She
stuttered, glad that she felt no more irritating pain
to the back of her neck. Her silky dark golden-brown
gloss hair, wildly strewn all over her forehead and
cheeks, and she quickly spit away some of her hair
from the front part of her mouth, saying, “...Okay.
Alright. Just start. With a little,” she pleaded. “You
got, so much in, already. Please. Ow. Please. Ow. Ow.
Ow. Ow. Oh, no. Slow. Not. Again. It’s. Please! Not
agaiaaaaooooooowwwwwwwww!” Once again; feeling her
black master’s more than thick, sliding down hard nine
and one-quarter inches--that huge, hard helmet-capped
spear, painfully stretching her flesh-pink anus all
around those nine and one-quarter inches deep in her
little rear, and of now having that new experience in
feeling that gutting, grossly thick hardness stuck up
in her little rear; she helplessly clenched her
buttock cheeks as tight as she could, while grunting,
“Ugh,” and then involuntarily jerked up her sheer
silk, nylon-covered skinny legs at the knee, not
knowing that she just now unloosened her clenched
buttock cheeks. Skinny, sheer silk, nylon-covered legs
at upraised angle and lightly kicking in the air, she
let her high heel, platform combat boots fall limply
with thudding sound’s surrender to the white carpeted
floor. Simultaneously, she had quickly jerked her head
up-and-back at the back of her lower neck, and just as
her high heel, platform combat boots surrendered to
the carpeted floor in making thud’s noise, so too fell
silently the left cheek of her perfume powdered face
scrunched up in pain, to that white carpeted floor
soft enough to sleep on. And so, she from that of Suzy
Q’s experience, totally relaxed her anus muscle and
passively submitted to her black master slowly
stuffing two more, hard thick inches up inside her
painfully stretched, flesh-pink anus muscle. Her left
cheek to white carpet, she stared at nothing and
moaned, “Oh.”
“Uh, yeah. I like it, right about there.”
“Aw. Aw. Aw. Awohhhh. You. You. Promised.
Master.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz cleared her throat.
“Ugh. Not all of it.” In having that of a soft, white
pillowcase pillow beneath her surrendered, snow-white
hips, she felt one more inch spearing down her flesh-
pink anus muscle all around, and knew she not this
said as at least 12 inches stuck up in her little
rear. She pleaded from that thick, stretching pain
eleven to twelve inches deep. “...Fuuuuuccck’! Please!
Please, not all of it! Please. Please, master.” And
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz did so whimper that out of
fear, a soft, white pillowcase pillow beneath her
snow-white hips, knowing what she lay for. Her perfume
powdered doll face just couldn’t get comfortable, and
as she raised her left cheek to place her right cheek
on that of a white carpeted floor soft enough to sleep
on, she felt her black master rest to where she could
barely take it up the anus. Saying she while totally
resting on her petite belly very muscle-rippled, “Oh,
baby. Uh. Is there any. Uhh. Oil around? Oh! Right
there! Is. Good enough. Ow. Please! Don’t go, further.
Don’t go. Further.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz decided
that her body felt more comfortable, with her left
cheek resting to the rather good smelling white
carpet, sensing that her black master cease sinking
further into her, this, in having almost thirteen
inches of his thick--as her resting forearm,
throbbing, hard member up inside her painfully flesh
stretching, flesh-pink anus. And landing her left
cheek to that of soft white carpet, she gratefully
made known, “Thank. Thank you. Master. Aw. Oh. Yeah.
Hmm. That’s. Aw! Slow, baby. Master. Stroke it back
and forth. Real. Slow. Yeah. Hmm. That’s nice. Oh,
yeah. Hmm. I’m working around that. Hmm. Yeah. Hmm.
Just. Ow. Poke it. Like that. Go ahead, baby. Hmm.
Turn that ass into a faggot, again. Oh. God. That’s
nice and good. Awwwwwwww! Fuck, man! Not so hard! Oh,
no. O’ no. I’m sorry. Please. Please. Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw!
Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Oh, God! Oh, God! Aw! Aw! Aw!
Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Ahh. Ahh. Ahh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh! Oh!
Oh! Awwwwwwaaooaww! Uhhngghh. Uhmm. Oh, my, God!
Awwohhhhhh! Aw. Aw. Aw. Aw. Aw. Aw. Aw. Aw. Aw. Aw.
Awoooowahhhh! Fuuuuuck’! You’re fucking me! Fuck!
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Awwwwwwoooohhh!”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz of rolling green acres,
and just as much that of a once a-upon time, Midwest
interracial porno actress, called Suzy Q, and that
Suzy Q, must have performed dozens of anal scenes with
Negro-American porno actors; knew that she now
breathed in being brutally, unemotionally raped
painfully up her flesh-pink anus. Unfeelingly raped up
her flesh-pink anus by her black master’s grossly
huge, vein-laden black penis, for free...

Submissively lying straight out on her muscle-

rippled belly looking as some banana puffed up in
there, two black hands, the pink-white palms of those
two black hands, pressed to the carpeted floor and so
near the area of her resting neck, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz grunted the vocal sound of, “Ugh,” because
of her black master’s last twelve inch, thick hard
stroke up inside her anus muscle gone involuntarily
loose, and so painfully stretching out her pink-flesh
anus muscle all around those twelve, totally hard
inches very thick stuck up her little rear. Then, her
black master, uncaringly pulling out of her rear to
her short, warm inhale through her nose, she of
rolling green acres mindlessly throated, “...Ah,” in
not seeing her anus opening, having that of an ugly
black flesh hole the star-look circumference of a
half-dollar. Her left cheek, still pressed to that of
a soft white carpet, the bottom of her limp arms,
resting to this carpeted floor soft enough to sleep
on, her skinny, yet shapely legs, almost pressed
lightly together at the inner knee, her thin white
hips resting to that white pillowcase pillow, her
breath breathing heavily, her Polish-American brown
eyes stared blankly while hearing that black stranger
screaming of his selfish ejaculation. Her left cheek,
still willingly pressed to that of soft white carpet,
the bottom of her limp arms, resting to this carpeted
floor, her skinny, yet shapely legs, almost pressed
lightly together at the inner knee, breathing heavily,
her Polish-American brown eyes staring blankly while
feeling fresh sperm landing on the bottom of her
lower, right shoulder blade area, feeling fresh sperm
landing on the middle of her lower back, and feeling
fresh sperm dripping down on her palm-fitting, inner
right buttock cheek, and in oh so feeling totally
violated, she heard from her breathing hard, black
master. “Go take shower, ho’ and put some of dat’
Frenchy perfume on. Bros’ want a piece ah’ your shit,
tonight...”
For the next five hours, heavy gulps of chilled
French champagne in between, a marijuana cigarette
smoked to the fingernail, with one fat line of almost
pure cocaine sniffed up, smiling, pure naked, Miss
pretty Patricia Olkeweitz, had raw sex with that of
five black strangers. Five, black strangers that she
had recently seen prior playing craps in the basement
of this white mansion, 40 miles south of Chicago. And
these strangers were that of four, Negro-American
males that played college basketball and one, Negro-
American male that played professional basketball. She
did so have these five strangers breathing the skin
color of Negro, in her slowly sucking, moaning mouth
and stroking fast, smiling hands, up her loose vagina
and somewhat tight anus, one’ at a time for free. At
least Miss Patricia Olkeweitz thought they had at her
for free, because, she of rolling green acres had not
seen money being passed to her, all she eyed of were
condoms. So, fifteen to twenty minutes after those
five hours of having intermittent sex with that of
five black strangers--that grinned swinishly in
pounding her loose vagina muscle fast and hard atop a
big bed then, real slow and methodical atop that same
bed, and to say more atop that big bed inside that of
a bigger bedroom, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, looking as
that of a beautiful, fluffed back perfume powdered
doll, her skinny, yet shapely lilywhite legs,
willingly spread to many sexual positions well-
learned, and she did so, whilst saying Suzy Q, dirty
things, such as, “...Uhnngghhh. Ohh. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm.
Yeah! Hmm. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Ah. Ah. Ah. Yeah! Hmm.
Go ahead. I love it. Like. That. Owahh. Uhhnggh.
Right. Right there. Uhmm...Uhmm...Uhmm. Yeah! Hmm.
Yeah! Hmm. Come on, baby. Ball me with that dick.
Uhgghh. Ohaaaaaaaoooohhh. Oh, my, God. I’m. It’s.
Ahhhhowwaahhhhh. Yeah! Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm.
Hmm. Hmm. Oh, yeah! Hmm. Yeah! Hmm. Yeah! Hmm. Yeah!
Hmm. That’s it. That’s it. Go ahead, baby. Let that
dick flow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Yeah! Hmm. Splash that shit all
over my face...!” And so, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz of
doing all that, from Suzy Q experience; gratefully
passed out on the white carpeted floor and good sleep
came as gift from heaven.

Laying stark naked on her right side and being

slightly curled up in that of a fetal position, she
raised her eyelids for that fast second or two, and
then clenched these eyelids because of the
excruciating pain jetting from her brain. Rolling
fully onto her belly, she pressed her unblemished,
intelligent-looking forehead to soft white carpet and
tightened her two hands into that fist look near her
natural tanned, flesh-white cheeks. She lay--like this
in fighting pain. Pain of the mind, from having
unemotional, night before, halfway anal sex with her
black master; Richard the Negro; and straight sex with
her black master’s black-skinned friends--as well pain
of the body, from snorting almost pure cocaine,
smoking a marijuana cigarette to the fingernail, and
drinking too much French champagne last night. Fully
curling up into that of a fetal position, she sadly
whispered for her English-born mother. “Mommy. Mommy,
I’m sorry.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, from those rolling green
acres of Illinois, attempted to escape this her
awakened day, by trying to go back to sleep. But, it
seemed there breathed that of a stirring chain
reaction of awakened flesh throughout the huge, white
mansion, and each and every young woman that had slept
over inside of fat Mike White’s white mansion, this,
in the saying of 8 Caucasian-American eighteen-year-
olds’, 1 Caucasian-American nineteen-year-old, 3
Caucasian-American twenty-year-olds’, 3 Caucasian-
American twenty-two-year-olds’, 1 Caucasian-American
seventeen-year-old, 2 Vietnamese-American nineteen-
year-olds’, and that of a young, blue-eyed, Caucasian-
American girl soon written about; did so they sadly
whisper in different manners to their mommies’. And
after that of a couple breaths of self-pity, these
Caucasian-American girls and Vietnamese-American
girls, thought of one thing, how to get money for
nothing.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz thought to this her
awakened day. “Fuck. Why did I gamble? Twenty
thousand’. Shit. That bastard Derrick. I wonder if
there’s any coke left.” She had been setup by the Dark
Disciples, to think that she owed $20,000, and in
reality, she did. Sitting up on her thin, right hip
area, her skinny, yet curvy legs stretched out, the
palm of her right hand, supporting the main of her
willowy torso--that of a knotted, soft Rhine gold
chain graced to her slim, long matching neck, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz used the bottom of her left hand to
rub around that small, puffed out, up curved banana
look, pudge’, around her lower bellybutton area. Many
weeks ago, she of Suzy Q knew what had caused the
start of that banana-looking pudge’, to Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz’s gone soft flesh puffing around hard, fit
flesh, and at the time, she of being nineteen years of
age, thought it of such rather humorous in seeing that
banana look to her lower belly well exercised. But, to
her breathing, living black nightmare of now, and in
so looking at that puffy pudge’ looking as an up
curved banana, she felt fat and ugly down there. Many
weeks ago, she had tried to exercise as hard as she
could and lightly diet away that up curved, banana
look, this, so as to regain of her once athletic-
looking, super flat belly looking model. This vigorous
exercise and light dieting worked a little, but to the
breath of her now, mindlessly gazing at that curved
up, banana look around hard/soft muscle, she knew such
to be caused from doing black guys that had grossly
huge black penises, nearly all the time for the last
year or so. And those 4 black boys one year younger
than her that had all the way last night, and that
black guy that she had all the way last night, not to
mention her black master raping her up her little rear
last night, really did make her look as she had a
banana stuffed up in her muscle-rippled, lower belly
looking not runway model looking. Also to her judging,
Polish-American brown eyes, her thin hips seemed to
recently widen a little and her little, palm-fitting
buttock cheeks, indiscernibly appeared slightly
heavier. Heavier and wider to accept and genetically
adapt to something that said grossly unnatural for her
God-given, natural body sired for hope of race. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz now stared at nothing, hearing
someone using the bedroom’s bathroom in running the
shower, and thought in that of a jumbled sort of way;
still resting on her right hip area, this... “Fucken’
big ass niggers. No wonder their gorilla women are
big-assed’ fat. God Himself wouldn’t date the ugly
bastards.” She thought, naturally raising her elfin
chin and looking at three black boys sleeping on the
king size bed; not knowing she that they were college
basketball players and one year younger than her, and
just as much, she thought whilst turning her chin to
the left, her brown eyes, seeing that black-skinned
male snoring on the couch. “...Did I do four or five
of them last night? Fuck. Twenty thousand’. Some of
that gotta’ come off. I didn’t fuck those niggers last
night for free. No way. And that one guy that had me
up the ass. What the fuck was that nigger’s name?” She
said thinking to mind about Richard the Negro; #23 of
wing ‘Blue. “...No way am I calling that fucker’
master. Had a cock as big as my arm. No, it was even
bigger. Fuck, it was so big it just hung down and bent
up in the middle. And that middle vein on it, Fred’s
cock isn’t even that long. Jesus, how could anyone
fuck a thing like that? Master, my ass.” Suzy Q
interrupted Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, by softly
whispering, “I thought you liked it like that.” She of
Suzy Q breathed in thinking about her black master,
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; but, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz did not know that she was now his
new, broken in white slave. To add to her living black
nightmare, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz did not know that
her black master had collected $1,000, from each of
the four black boys and one black guy that she had
protected sex with last night. And, Richard the Negro;
#23 of wing ‘Blue; pocketed an easy $5,000, just from
the first night of Miss Patricia Olkeweitz being his
new, broken in white slave. So, after Suzy Q had
whispered of her living black nightmare addiction to
big black penises, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz continuied
thinking, “Oh, no. What about Fred? I’ll just tell
him, I slept over Mary’s place.” As these simple plans
flew through her mind, she naturally felt the need to
urinate. Standing to her bare feet and just as nude,
she did so glance at those three black boys that were
sleeping on a king size bed, and then she glanced at
that black guy snoring on the couch, black-skinned
strangers that had her all the way last night. She
tried to remember if she enjoyed having sex with four
black boys one after the other, for about five hours.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, thinking whilst looking at
that closed French door, decided that she did not,
Suzy Q, thinking, “It wasn’t that bad. Wait. There was
five’ of ‘em.” She flashed in her mind fast moaning
screams, screams, from her being surprised down there
last night. Then, she turned to the left and eyed that
of a stark naked, Caucasian-American female teenager,
standing at the entrance of the big bedroom. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz fully smiled from her eyes witness
to that of beauty first glance seen. And this naked
teenager so seen, graced that of straight and fine,
white blonde hair, sparkling pale-blue eyes, sloping
up and out, rather large breasts showing luminous
pale-pink nipples at rest, small waist, and long,
shapely legs. In so many words, she of sparkling blue
eyes looked model, and this’, the best selling kind--
that is in her blue-eyed, unwitting case, the soon to
be best selling kind for the Dark Disciples.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz naturally approached this
naked, teenaged girl, and raising elfin chin,
because--this girl breathed in being four inches
taller than her, she whispered, “Where’s the nearest
bathroom?”
Beauty first glance seen whispered, “It’s this
way. I’ll show you.”
Walking abreast down the hard red carpeted white
marble-decked hallway, expensive paintings on the rich
walls of fat Mike White’s white mansion, they both
came to that of a waist-high banister made of granite
and good timber, and looking down at the chandelier,
white marble-decked ballroom, they eyed of eight,
stark naked, milling about white females talking to
one another around a table that held a big bowl of
almost pure cocaine, with two, stark naked black males
getting dressed. Suddenly, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and
her new friend, heard one long, screaming moan--this
screaming moan of the feminine, sounding similar to
‘ahoaoowwww, and both of these fit, teenaged girls
lower bellies shot with adrenalin. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz’s adrenalin, fear, her new friend, curiosity
mixed with fear. To their looking at each other in
that white smiling way, seeing how beautiful they
looked, wanting to giggle and have fun, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz heard from this blue-eyed, stark naked
teenager as they turned to the left and walked along.
“Great party last night, huh?”
“Yeah, it was alright,” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
said.
“I can’t believe how warm it is in here.”
“Yeah. It is warm.”
“It’s that fireplace in the main living room.”
“Really? I haven’t seen that part.”
Passing that of two, big doorways that told as
being wide open, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz glanced to
the left and eyed of naked Jerome sleeping atop a king
size bed, while snoring on his back. Suzy Q had sudden
want for mindlessly known pain in seeing his sleeping,
thick and long, black-skinned member. She of no longer
being Suzy Q, stopped walking and Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz stared at what she suddenly wanted to
snuggle up to, and she did so while hearing from her
new friend whispering in awe, “Jesus, look at the size
of that one’.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz nonchalantly turned her
elfin chin to the right and did so proceed down the
rich hallway, and she did so with that of a teenaged
girl with no clothes on, walking tall beside her.
“Yeah,” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz said. “I had him
dozens of times.”
“Isn’t he the porno star? Jerome?”
“Yep.”
“No shit. Well. Here’s the bathroom.”
They of being naked stopped their forward strut
and they both had that athletic, military walk. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz heard her new friend, say, “I heard
that Adult World Productions might be setting up shop
in L.A. That’s where the big moneys at. And Jerome’s
going to be their number one star. I can’t wait to
star in one of his movies. I. I never had a dick as
big as his. Does. Does it hurt?”
“Shit, I had a bigger cock than his last night.”
“No way. That’s impossible. A bigger cock than
his? It wasn’t Charles Wall, was it?”
“Who?”
“Charles Wall. The basketball player. He plays
for the Chicago Hawks. He’s about six-foot, six inches
tall. Skinhead. He was playing craps downstairs. Blue
suit.”
“Yeah! That’s him. I think.”
“O’ my, God. You actually fucked him? I heard he
got ten inches and it sticks straight out?”
“Yeah, it looked about that. I think I came on
that shit.”
“Man, you’re lucky. Derrick said that once I
reach seventeen’.”
“What? How old are you?”
 “Sixteen’. That I’ll be able to fly out to L.A
and help start Adult World Productions, setup shop in
California. Hmm. California waves. Maybe I’ll hook-up’
with Brad Pitten.”
“Really?” Young, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt
rather angry that Suzy Q said as being out of this
starting, L.A. thing.

Toilet done, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz heard from

her new friend. “Let’s go downstairs and see if any
coke’s left.” Both of these girls pranced down marble
stairs, these stairs, covered in hard red carpet, and
they did prance down these stairs as fast princesses,
in being stark naked, and then they were soon snorting
almost pure cocaine for free. At least they sired to
near perfection, thought it of such said for free.

“Yoah, ho’! Get your white ass up here!”

It said her thin black master hideously screaming
from the second floor landing and Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz had that sudden, unwanted feel of dread in
her puffed out, banana-looking lower belly well
exercised. She quickly raised her elfin chin and saw
Richard the naked Negro, standing behind that of a
waist-high, masterfully crafted banister made of
granite and good timber, and more fear entered her
mind, seeing from this distance that of his mean-
scowled, afro brow. Nervously, she said to her new
friend, “Ah, I’ll see ya’ later, I guess. Hope. Hope
you do well in California.” And in so saying that,
naked Miss Patricia Olkeweitz glanced at the tall
teenager’s incurved, athletic-looking, flat belly, and
subconsciously wondered what that tough girl’s belly
would look as, after playboy-dressed’ Jerome and the
street-dressed’ storefront office boys, painfully
opened up her tight, pink-flesh vagina a couple dozen
times.
“Take it easy,” this sixteen-year-old girl
looking model, said to that beautiful girl looking
more than worried.
Stark naked, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz ascended
white marble stairs that had hard red carpet in the
middle of these wide stairs, and once to the landing,
hard red carpet beneath her bare feet, she heard a
female scream of real pain coming from one of the
bedrooms of this second floor, and fearfully she
stepped forward to this her living black nightmare,
seeing her black master standing just as naked.
Walking forward, almost pure cocaine, dripping down
her throat, she lightly sniffed to make sure, and she
of Miss Patricia Olkeweitz trained her jaded brown
eyes at her black master’s thick as her wrist, hanging
down, totally soft black penis looking as that of a
gnarled black-colored gym rope, and her black master’s
black scrotum; the biggest she ever saw; hung halfway
down to this his grossly huge, dangling, thickly-
knotted black penis looking gnarly. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz still couldn’t get over this sight of her
black master, it said as being that unnaturally long,
thick gym rope, knotted look, and just as much, that
crunched up vein in the middle, even from this
distance she could see it. And such of what Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz eyed of, did not frighten her all
that much, because, she of no longer being Suzy Q, had
seen sights as this, all too often. But this black
penis of her black master, Suzy Q knew Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz would feel something different. Suzy Q;
subconsciously thinking that her strange occupation
still said as being that of an interracial, Midwest
porno actress but, not knowing that Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz had been funneled to the next stage of the
Dark Disciples pipeline; had recently come to see
soft, big black penises all too often. But, what she
did so now come to be frightened of, said as being her
black master’s mean, thin ugly black face. He of her
black master, to her, always seemed to have that of a
hate-filled scowl--as if he of the Negro wanted to
constantly kill someone. Standing further down the
rich hallway, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz eyed of two,
street-dressed’, Negro-American males leaning on both
sides of the well-paneled wall; #24 of wing ‘Blue, and
#25 of wing “Blue; and she didn’t know this, but at
least one of those black-brown eyes would always be
watching her. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz now moved in
life as being that of a trapped, soon to be expensive
call girl--that is, until they of the Dark Disciples
sold her to the block. Nearing her black master to one
of arms length, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz remembered
that her black master had told her to smile when she
sees his ‘shit, and she showed that of a bright, white
smile to her naked black master. Smiling that told
way, glancing down at the longest and thickest black
penis that she had ever seen in her life, lowering her
white smile because of squinting at something that
just couldn’t be possible, she of rolling green acres
heard from Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue.
“Follow me.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz walked down that rich
hallway in following her naked, black master, and
nervously, she said, “Hi,” to those two, street-
dressed’ Negro-American males; #24 of wing ‘Blue, and
#25 of wing ‘Blue. Entering the big bedroom that she
had performed in for free last night; not knowing that
five thousand dollars had changed hands to have at her
body; she saw those three black boys still sleeping,
heard that of a shower still running in the bedroom’s
bathroom, and then glanced at her black master donning
flashy red flaring trousers. She stared at what she
thought as impossible. “Get dressed,” her black master
whispered. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz promptly looked
around and saw clothes and shoes all over the white
carpeted floor. Soon dressed in that of a short-
sleeved, low-neck black cotton miniskirt, sheer silk
nylons to her skinny, yet shapely legs, high heel,
platform combat boots to her near perfect feet--that
of a knotted, soft Rhine gold chain graced to her
slim, long matching neck, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
sheepishly followed her black master. Moments later,
she breathed in standing at the bottom of wide cement
basement steps, a steel door facing her and her black
master. Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; pushed
that of a black button, and within nine to ten
seconds--that of a well-dressed Negro-American male,
with that of a black hood over his head, opened the
steel door from within. This well-dressed, Negro-
American male with that of a black hood over his head,
and of whom that had opened the steel door, moved in
life as being #8 of wing ‘Black, and this wing ‘Black,
said as being the killing wing of the Dark Disciples.
She thought it more than strange that this well-
dressed, black man had that of a black hood over his
head. The second strange thing Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
eyed of, other than there was no one down here
gambling--that of two, stark naked, teenaged white
girls, both of these tall, slender girls, gracing
thick dark-brown hair. To all of this--that of a pimp-
dressed’, Negro-American male; #15 of wing ‘Gold;
stood behind these two pretty white girls, and he of
being dressed as pimp, said to Richard the Negro; #23
of wing ‘Blue, “Yo’ bro’! That your new ho’!”
“Yeah, she makes money last night. Banging. She
nonstop nigger and love da’ big ones’.”
“Looky here. I’s’ got two’ nigger lovers gonna’
make da’ big bucks, too. Ain’t that right, you white
hos’?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“Master! You white cunt bitches! You call me
master!”
“Yes, master.”
“Yes, master.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz looked at these two naked
girls that were about the same age as her, and noticed
the look of absolute terror on their young faces.
These two, naked girls were roughly pushed along, and
then pushed up wide cement basement stairs by their
black master; #15 of wing ‘Gold. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz felt her black master; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
severely grab her right bicep area, and then force her
further into the gambling den. She glanced to the left
and eyed of that well-dressed man--that had a black
hood over his head, walk to near café-looking tables.
Though with that of a black hood over his head, she
eyed of his black hands and knew that he was a black
man.
“Ow! You’re hurting me!” Her black master was
grabbing her middle right arm so hard, it hurt her.
 “Shut the fuck up, you fucken’ bitch!” Her black
master slapped the left side of her face as hard as he
could with his right hand. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
would have fell to the hard black carpeted floor, if
not for her black master severly holding her middle
right arm, and she cried, “Oww! Please. Oh, God,
please. Don’t hit me. Anymore. I’ll. I’ll do anything
you want. I’ll. I’ll suck your dick. I love your cock
up my ass. Please. Please, fuck me up the ass.” She of
growing up as tender tomboy hated pain. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz felt her black master’s painful grip,
leading her to one of two crap tables. And standing at
the tail end of one of these crap tables, she looked
down and eyed of a stark naked, young Caucasian woman
lying on her back in the center of the crap table, a
plastic sheet, underneath that young woman. At first,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s Polish-American brown eyes
couldn’t register the living black nightmare sight
before her, and as she readjusted her confused mind to
reality, she saw that of a red and crusty, thin dry
line clear across the woman’s non-breathing throat.
This stark naked woman looked whiter than usual and
her green eyes stared blankly while she slowly
decayed, her Christ-laden soul, perhaps looking down
at the world’s allowed pure evilness. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz felt her thin body being shaken--like a rag
doll by her black master, who that still painfully
held her middle right bicep area. Hearing she of
rolling green acres, “You see that white ho’!? She
tries ta’ run on us! That’s what happen to nigger ho’
like you, trying to run! We slice your throat ear ta’
ear! And if you go to da’ police, we find ya’! We find
ya’, anywhere! We’ll come right through your mommy’s
door and fuck you up! Then, we rape and cut your
mommy’s throat, sister, or anyone else! Now, get on
your knees and suck my dick, bitch!” Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz did just that. “...Smile, nigger. That’s
right. You my little nigger girl, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Ah, yeah. Open your mouth. Watch the teeth,
bitch. Just suck the head. Ah, yeah. You good sucking
nigger ho’. This time, I’m gonna cum’ right up dat’
little mouth of yours. Take off your clothes...”

Twenty-odd minutes later; five-foot three’, 102

lb., for she had lost a pound of weight within the
last month; Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, slavishly rubbed
around sperm on her pink-red lips, elfin chin, cheeks,
and thin chest. Because, she had just now been
unemotionally raped up her loose anus by her black
master, and whom that then washed his black penis in
the gambling den’s basement, and then ejaculated
inside her sucking mouth, causing her to gag from that
of a thick, molten spray of sperm that seemed not to
stop. And so from gagging, she had let sperm slide
down on her slim pink-red lips, elfin chin, and
lightly-freckled, bare chest. And after she mindlessly
rubbed sperm all over her chin, cheeks, lips, neck,
and chest, wiping her hands on her thin hips, she
proceeded to dress with drying sperm on those parts of
her body. So dressed--that of a knotted, soft Rhine
gold chain graced to her slim, long matching neck,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz sheepishly followed her black
master. Halfway up cement steps rather wide and a
little shadowy; Miss Patricia Olkeweitz eyed of three,
stark naked girls about the same age as her; one of
these naked, American-born girls, shining the pretty
face of the Orient, a street-dressed’ black man,
behind those pretty girls having no clothes on. She of
Suzy Q, knew that these three girls worked for Adult
World Productions, and they of pretty flesh had made a
lot of money for Adult World Productions--that was
owned by fat Mike White; #1 of wing ‘Blue of the Dark
Disciples. But what Miss Patricia Olkeweitz didn’t
know, was that these three pretty girls were now ready
for the next funneling stage of fat Mike White’s wing
‘Blue, and that was that these onetime, fresh party
girls that loved big black penises hurting them down
there and had so worked for Adult World Productions,
would now be call girls all the time in the city of
Chicago and, just as much, call girls for the major
cities and industrial towns of the Midwest. Call girl
all the time for their black master, a member of the
Dark Disciples. Then--as these mindless call girls
time moved along, they of being worn-out of pink
vaginal muscle and pink anus muscle, and just as much,
having slack face and void of mind’s gay eye, rich
customers, saying, ‘do you have another girl, ‘by
chance. Rich customers, saying, ‘do you have another
girl, ‘by chance, ‘ahh, ‘she’s kinda’ too loose for
me. They of that not wanted’, would so be sold on the
block. And once sold on the block, nine times out of
ten, these pretty Caucasian-American girls, Mongol-
American girls, too, would eventually end up doing
long stretches of time in jail, or, end up in a
hospital for the insane. Not to mention painfully
dying from AIDS--that hard-shelled animal Debbie had
unleashed unto the world, through General Binnicher,
for reason...
“Yo’, Richard, you taking your new ho’ to your
crib?”
“Yeah, she cash ready. Bitch can’t get enough
nigger. She cunt for it.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz glanced at the lower,
muscle-rippled bellies of these three, naked girls
showing of shaven public hair, and to her Polish-
American brown eyes, it so appeared that these naked,
teenaged girls had that of a huge, breathing black
penis ghost in their banana-curved up, lower belly,
and she of Miss Patricia Olkeweitz knew that her
little, lower belly looked that unpleasant, banana
way, too. Ugly’, from blacks’. Her flexible, curved
spine, adding to that ghost look of a big black penis
resting way up inside her loose vaginal muscle.
Resting that banana-curved up way, for that of grossly
huge black penises puffing to that puffed out and
banana-curved up, lower belly.
“Yeah, these hos’ be ready to sell ass, too. Look
how tight dis’ China girl be. Bitch, turn your gook
ass around!” The stark naked, Vietnamese-American
young woman did fearfully turn and show of her petite,
naturally tan flesh-white and naturally upraised,
heart-shaped bottom to her black master’s black friend.
“Yeah, she go good.”
 Once to the chandelier, marble-decked ballroom,
no one around, echoic, loud sexual female moans and
fast sexual female screams coming from all over the
white mansion, Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
snorted a big line of almost pure cocaine, and Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz waited as some trained animal while
standing behind her black master. Those overheard,
echoic, long female moans and short sexual female
screams of pain emanating from at least six to nine
young women, of which emanated from first floor rooms
and big bedrooms upstairs, started to make her
emotions tether. Literally, it of such her hearing,
sounded as what hell must sound as on a quiet day.
“Go ahead, baby. You can have a line’. ‘Cause you
a good girl, right?”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz now showed one big white
smile of immediate worship, absolutely loving the way
her thin black master spoke to her, and felt as to
kiss her black master, and Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
always did what Suzy Q told her to do. Moaning up and
softly wiggling her non-brushed, gummy tongue into and
slightly beyond rather thin, perhaps unsightly, black
lips for about six to eight seconds, and doing so,
while easily finding her black master’s thick and very
long black penis with the palm of her left hand,
rubbing over that of thin cotton cloth dyed red, she
timid fast from her left hand’s feeling and nervously
rubbed to what she had easily found. Unbelievably,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt her black master growing
harder and bigger to her rubbing left hand--that
suddenly tremble, and she said with a little bit of
her tongue sticking out dumbly, “Hmm.” And Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz thought to her ending friendship
kiss, “What the fuck I do that for? Patty, stop
kissing these fuckers’.” She stepped back in having
that big white smile of worship; worship, directed at
her black master’s private area; raised her elfin
chin, and sweetly voiced, “Thank you, darling. Master.
I’ll be a good girl, you’ll see.” She turned fast from
her mindless saying of the out loud, smiled that of a
real white smile, and soon did what she really loved,
this, in the snorting of a big line of almost pure
cocaine. Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ’Blue; taking
hold of a fancy cloth napkin, poured a good amount of
almost pure cocaine to the center of this cloth
napkin, and then said to his new, broken in white
slave, “If you be good girl, I’s’ give you some,
later.”
This of the ‘later, recently taught music to her
American-born ears, because, almost pure cocaine is
what she of rolling green acres really loved. And so
wanting that of what she so loved, she cunningly made
known, “What I want is that cock stuffed in me. You
know, darling. Master. You’re the biggest I ever had,
so far. I couldn’t even think when you were up my ass.”
“Bitch, I only had you halfway up da’ ass. You
just wait ‘till you get that little pussy pushed open
by my shit. I have you waddling for a week...”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz of rolling green acres
felt immediate fear drip down to her lower, curved
up--like a banana, puffed out lower belly well
exercised. Suzy Q liked it like that. 1997. Winter.
Forty miles south of Chicago, I say from my all white
world that Debbie holds me to. For reason... Twenty-
year-old, five-foot, three inches, 102 lb., pretty
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, smelling fresh and O’ so
girly clean, from recently taking that of a hot,
perfume bubble bath, and toothpaste brushed of white
teeth and pink-red tongue, digesting scrambled eggs,
sausage, home fried potatoes, buttered toast, tomato
juice, water, and coffee done her way, now sat
apprehensively in the driver’s side bucket seat of her
rather new, green painted convertible Mustang. And
revved she of worried mind the cold engine of this her
cherished vehicle, to gather wanted heat. Glancing at
the all-important fuel gauge of her rather new, green
painted convertible Mustang then, raising elfin chin
in looking to the left; crusty ice and fresh snow on
the outside windows of her green painted Mustang--that
of a white painted Mercedes Benz blanketed with snow,
to the right of her convertible Mustang--that of a
black painted Mercedes Benz blanketed over with snow,
to the left of that same Mustang hers, with that of
other snow-blanketed, nice cars parked to the rear of
her Mustang; her Polish-American brown eyes espied the
slightly distant thin face of her black master,
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue. And she of
rolling green acres, had no inkling whatsoever that he
of that skin breathing Negro, moved in life as being
#23 of wing ‘Blue. He of now being her black master
and just as much that of a member of the Dark
Disciples; #23 of wing ‘Blue; had dressed that morning
in that of flashy red cotton flaring trousers, pale-
yellow, silk-cotton, long-sleeved button shirt, all
sorts of diamond rings to his black fingers, and to
his sock-covered feet, thin leather, gray ankle buckle
boots. To keep body heat in, he of Richard the Negro;
#23 wing ‘Blue; had donned that of a loose and
flowing, long-to-knee mink fur coat. To add--that of a
yellow-colored, floppy pimp hat, with that of a white
rooster feather pinned on the right side of that pale-
yellow, floppy pimp hat, sat low to his two inch high,
afro hair. Of course he had yellow cotton socks on. He
of #23 of wing ‘Blue; Richard the Negro; sat behind
the steering wheel of a smoothly idling, 1981, white
painted Cadillac. And this of that old, white painted
Cadillac, sat idling smoothly to the near/distant left
of where Miss Patricia Olkeweitz sat apprehensively in
her idling, nearly snow-covered and just as much, near
ice-covered Mustang. Sudden fear entered her puffed
out and curved up--like a banana, lower belly for
reason, seeing that of an ugly, mean-looking black
man; #25 of wing ‘Blue; seated in the passenger seat
of her black master’s old, white painted Cadillac, and
just as much, seeing one black man; #24 of wing ‘Blue;
seated in the back seat of that old, white painted
Cadillac idling smoothly to that of freezing weather.
She had one thought. Escape. Then, she of being twenty
years of age, remembered that blank-eyed, stark naked,
young woman lying on the middle of a crap table, a
plastic sheet under that lifeless, stark naked woman.
Then, she recalled that well-dressed black man that
had a black hood over his head. To this living black
nightmare thought of hers, with that of warm, hot air
jetting inside her idling Mustang, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz recalled that dry, crusty red line across
that naked, young woman’s unmoving throat. And now,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz greatly panicked in feeling
bodily trapped by the black man.
“Oh, my, God. What have I gotten myself into?
Fred,” she thought then, she smiled that of a big
white smile, this, from seeing her black master
sitting behind the steering wheel of a white painted
Cadillac, meanly looking directly at her. She used her
right hand to happily; yet surreptitiously false, wave
at this pimp-dressed’ black master hers. And thought
she of rolling green acres, “He looks like the devil
himself with that goatee.” To this her judgment taught
by Christian priests showing the sketch-drawn face of
Devil, she saw that mean of afro brow, black-skinned
stranger; #25 of wing ‘Blue; that was sitting in the
passenger seat of her black master’s old, white
painted Cadillac, exit that smoothly idling Cadillac.
The still air, freezing, dark clouds, saying of more
snow. This black man so exiting from that of a white
painted Cadillac; #25 of wing ‘Blue; breathed in being
dressed in that of an oil-stained military fatigue
coat, long-sleeved wool T-shirt, shoddy blue jeans,
and brand-new combat boots showed to his sock-covered
feet. And he of being dressed--like that’, did so
shout, “Come on, you dumb bitch! Get out and scrape
your windows! We ain’t got all day, to start selling
your white ass!”
She of keen hearing heard this shouted command
from her black master’s black friend and so did as
told. Her black master; #23 of wing ‘Blue; seeing the
back of this skinny girl dressed in that of a waist
tight, rabbit fur coat, thin, hem tight black cotton
miniskirt reaching tightly around her upper legs,
sheer silk nylons to those skinny, yet shapely legs,
high heel, platform combat boots to her near perfect
feet, with that of an unseen, knotted, soft Rhine gold
chain graced to her slim, long matching neck, did so
watch as she of his new, broken in white slave,
energetically began scraping icy snow off her car’s
front window, with an ice scraper. Richard the Negro;
#23 of wing ‘Blue; exited from his smoothly idling
white painted Cadillac, shut the car’s door, and
approached this his new, broken in white slave. Coming
to that of standing still, Richard the Negro; #23 of
wing ‘Blue; crossed his arms over his thin, mink-
covered chest, and looked he at his new, broken in
white slave’s fast shaking, thinly cloth-covered rear
looking palm-fitting, this, as she vigorously scraped
her car’s front window of stubborn, crusty ice and
snow, with an ice scraper. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz;
breathing without a lick of makeup on her fresh
morning face looking adorable, her shoulder length,
dry dark golden-brown hair, looking a little messed up
from not being fully combed through; looked
photographically beautiful in having white rosy cheeks
from that of freezing air. When he of her devil-
looking black master walked forward and came as to be
closer behind her; crunching snow, saying to her of
someone’s nearing approach, she turned her elfin chin
and all that follows to the severe left, and she did
so in that of absolute terror, and then fully smiled
that of a bright, white smile. Hoping this bright,
white smile her shield from this her devil-looking
black master. And to that white smile her shield, she
heard her devil-looking black master, say, “Bitch,
keep scraping that shit off.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz dropped her white shield
smile, promptly turned, and scraped stubborn ice and
snow off the front window of her car, even faster,
thus, causing her little, cloth-covered rear to shake
that much more pleasing to the black beam of eye. Four
to five minutes later, her windows said as being
legally ready for the U.S. road and took she motions
of body to place the ice scraper to where she had
found it. This of ‘where she had found it, said as
being on the hard carpeted floor behind the driver’s
seat of her idling Mustang. With the driver side door
wide open, heat pouring out of this green painted
Mustang hers, the bottom of her left hand, fully
resting atop the driver’s side bucket seat to support
her bent over, willowy body, her right hand, tossing
an ice scraper onto the car’s hard carpeted floor,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz knew that the tight, stretchy
hem of her black cotton miniskirt, had risen more than
she wanted it to, and thus showing the extreme lower
part of her palm-fitting, small-cheeked bottom. The
wide and rather tight, white cotton cloth/elastic band
of her sheer silk nylons, she knew were definitely
showing. The still air, freezing, dark clouds, saying
of more snow. Ice scraper tossed to that of a hard
carpeted floor, knowing her little bottom to be
sticking out in that way to her black master’s black
eyes standing behind her, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
suddenly became Suzy Q and teasingly waved that little
bottom of hers back and forth at her devil-looking
black master, and then she coyly looked over her right
shoulder area covered over in that of rabbit fur. She
did so do of what she teasingly breathed in doing,
because, she knew that her devil-looking black master
could in no way get his black penis hard, this, in
that her devil-looking black master had ejaculated
inside her gagging mouth; causing overflowing sperm to
drip out on her pink-red lips and elfin chin then,
slide this warm sperm down onto her jutting up, left
breast, not more than ninety-odd minutes ago. So, she
tested fast humor and teased of her chilled, nearly
covered in that of thin, black cotton, little white
bottom, in knowing that her devil-looking black master
could in no way get it to that hard and longer, harder
and longer--that she had ever known’, more than thick
way, she so feared.
“Bitch, suck my dick.”
“Hmm.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz was still bent at the
waist in that angled way, and then stood back from her
car. In so being erect of spine, from her throated
saying of ‘hmm, a throated saying that she did not
even know she had throated, she turned easily in snow
four inches deep, with those high heel, platform
combat boots of hers, smiled that of a white smile in
slightly looking up at her devil-looking black master,
and watched as her devil-looking black master dropped
his flashy, red-colored flaring trousers to the
ankles. To this fast falling of flashy red flaring
trousers, showing no underwear, her white smile
broadened as her Polish-American brown eyes fully fell
to looking downward. The still air, freezing, dark
clouds, saying of more snow. In having her devil-
looking black master ready for that of unemotional,
free pleasure, she of rolling green acres lowered her
white smile, ever so slightly bent over at the thin
waist; her bowled over eyes leading her, and adeptly
cupped the both of her chilled hands behind and to the
very middle of her black master’s thick and very long,
soft black penis, the back of her knuckled hands,
feeling the front part of a chilled scrotum sagging
down and bigger than any other scrotum that she had
ever seen before. In so feeling of what she breathed
fast in doing, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, thought,
“Jesus, just how big is this fucken’ thing. I always
thought cocks shrivel in the cold...” To that fast
thought of hers, she of rosy cheeks from that of
freezing weather, noticed that the thick, broad base
of her black master’s soft, black penis, had that of
fat and crunched up, bumpy veins covered over in that
of black-colored flesh, and from so seeing those four,
thick and broad vertical inches of her black master’s
base, having that of a thick, middle vein running down
six to seven inches in being soft, and that what
narrowed down, connected to another two to three
inches of soft, considerable black flesh covered with
connected smaller veins, and of what so ended to the
biggest black penis head--that she had ever seen in
her life, she raised her black master’s heavy to hand,
soft black penis in her cupping hands. She thought,
“...Fuck, I can’t believe how heavy this fucker’ is.”
Thinking that, still cupping the vein-gorged middle of
her black master’s soft black penis with the both of
her weighing, examining hands, her lightly pressing,
opposable thumbs, now giving assist to her wrapping
fingers, her palms, feeling the heavy weight of her
devil-looking black master, her back slightly straight
of flexible spine, her wordless eyes, still looking
down, she slowly slid those cupping hands of hers back
and forth, opposable thumbs, in feeling assist.
“Hmm,” she mindlessly voiced from her throat,
feeling that funny feeling that started many months
ago, and that funny feeling’, said as being her fit
knees and the middle of her smooth, skinny thighs,
starting to quiver and weaken to spread. To add to
this her healthy body, this ‘feeling, usually came
when she was standing erect of spine. And to that of
freezing air, she breathed in looking down and
stroking back and forth the biggest, thickest black
penis, she had ever seen, and she had seen plenty
within the last year or so.
“Uh-huh...huh,” she whimpered aloud, and then
cleared her throat. Usually, Suzy Q always said
something witty. And she of being that of a once upon
a-time, interracial, Midwest porno actress, did so do
what she breathed in doing, with that of a developing,
malevolent pure evil white smile on her cute, rosy-
cheeked face, and this, as she throated a sound from
her throat. “...Hmm,” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz throated
again, slowly stroking her hands back and forth, not
even realizing that she breathed in doing so, feeling
soft black flesh, getting thicker and a little harder
deep inside that of a growing muscle suddenly found to
her moving hands. To that feeling of her feeling
hands, trying to stretch out that deep, hard muscle
surrounded by semi-soft black flesh, she reversed her
left hand and took firm grasping hold of semi-hard
black flesh, with that same hand. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz released her cupping right hand, and noticed
to mind of those long inches of thick, semi-soft black
flesh, falling in being curled up and over the outer
thumb of her lightly gripping, left hand. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz stared at this long and thickly
drooping black flesh that she gripped in her left hand
and she did so whilst thinking, “What the fuck? Look
at it. How fucken’ long is this fucker’?” And as she
did so think that in a jumbled sort of way, the still
air, freezing, her white smile lowered from her mind’s
trepidation to what may happen, in that of a minute or
two. “...No way can he get it hard, again. He just
fucken’ came an hour ago.” Her Polish-American brown
eyes, breathed swiftly in comparing to mind the
difference of her black master’s grossly huge, obvious
semi-soft black penis in the daylight, well noticing
she that thick, slightly crunched up vein in the
middle of her black master’s semi-soft black penis--as
that morning young sun, could in no way completely
blast ray, because of those tough Illinois snow
clouds, the still air, freezing. Staring in almost
absolute amazement, long inches of thick, obvious
semi-soft black flesh, falling and curled up and over
the grasping, outer thumb of her left hand, she heard
her devil-looking black master, say, “Don’t look at
it, nigger, suck on it. And this time, don’t chew on
the shit, ho’.”
So, broken of her trepid trance by the words of
her devil-looking black master, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, in her slightly bent over stand to snow
four inches deep, found of her left hand gripping
harder to that hardening muscle deep within her black
master’s grossly huge black penis, and she ever so
moaned, “Hmm,” from suddenly finding to her left
thumb’s feeling--that deep muscle that held in being
inside her black master’s grossly huge, black penis.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz looked at it drooping over her
gripping, left hand, and she felt as to say Suzy Q
words of the nasty, but, she forced Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz to smile that of a pure evil white smile,
instead. Working her left hand around that deep muscle
getting harder, she took use of her right hand to
quickly grasp curled over, drooping, thick black
flesh, and quickly used her right hand, to raise and
straighten that drooping black flesh very thick and
heavily vein-laden. With this so held in the both of
her gripping hands, she slightly bent over at the
waist, opened her mouth as wide as she could, got a
better two hand grip around this black stranger’s deep
muscle getting harder, and stuffed as much as she
could of her black master’s black penis, into her
mouth.
“There yous’ go, again! I said don’t chew on it,
ho’! What the fuck they teach you at that porno john!
How to chew someone ta’ death!? Just suck head, you
dumb bitch.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz heard. The still
air, freezing. Holding what she breathed in holding
with the both of her chilly, stroking hands getting
warmer by the second, looking at what she was doing,
this, in being slightly bent over at the waist, she
did ever so softly and gently do of her black master’s
command. And she did so in having her clean, soft
mouth opened as wide as she could.

“Hmm,” she throated from her feeling tongue’s

find to that of total stiffness, saying aloud in her
bent over pose, “It’s so big. Hard.” Knowing she had
caused that’. Her chilled, gripping hands, feeling
warmer from what she now felt wildly pulsating around
that muscle she had found not but seconds past, and
thought she, “Jesus Christ, it’s hard already, and I
can feel it throb.” And so of these gripping hands,
such said separated by three inches of hard, vein-
laden black flesh; and she could not even touch the
tip of her index fingers to her opposable thumbs
holding up to what her tongue wrapped under. Trying
she to wrap her pink-red lips around what she thought
as impossible, because, he of her devil-looking black
master had ejaculated not more than ninety-odd minutes
prior. She of being slightly bent over at the waist,
deliriously moaned aloud from her throat, “It’s. It’s,
so big. I can’t. Even. Fit, your head.” Her chilled,
tightly gripping hands, feeling wildly throbbing
warmth, from what she felt pulsating thick and hard,
and so of those warming hands hers; separated by three
inches of hard, vein-laden black flesh; could not even
touch the tip of her index fingers to her opposable
thumbs, around to what she fiercely held to her
gripping hands, this, while holding up to what her
clean, pink-red tongue wrapped under. “...Hmm. In my.
Mouth. Hmm. Hmm. Just let me. Wait. Let me lick it a
little.” She slightly stroked up her hands that
wrapped around the thickest black penis that she had
ever felt pulsating in her palms, and she did so while
licking underneath a grossly huge, black penis head
that felt as a hard, big plum. She throated to her
fast licking, “Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Uhmm,
yeah. Hmm. It’s so. So. Big. Oh, God. Look at it.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; looking at it and still
slightly bent over at the waist; opened her mouth as
wide as she could, her two gripping hands, feeling
warmer from what she so felt, separated by three
inches of hard, vein-laden black flesh; not even able
to touch the tip of her index fingers to her opposable
thumbs, in holding up to what her tongue wrapped
under, and somehow, she stuffed a whole inch of her
black master’s gorged of blood, stiff black penis head
between her chilled, yet warm pink-red lips. She
became Suzy Q in her bent over sucking of just her
lips, and let slide one more inch beyond her sucking,
experienced lips. “...Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm.
Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm.”
“Go. Go. Go. Hmm. Ho’! You suckin’, nigger good!
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Go. Go. Go. Hmm. You make big bucks
fuck suck dick.”
The still air, freezing.
“Hmm.”
“Go ahead, bitch, take it like you want.”
She stroked her warming hands faster, stuffing as
much as she could inside her mouth, and ever so bobbed
her head up-and-down in being mindful of her teeth,
her tongue, saying, “Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Oh. God.
It’s. So. Fucken’. Big. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz swallowed spit in her
sucking, and needing air; her two, gripping hands,
feeling warmer from what she felt wildly pulsating in
her tightly gripping hands, those gripping hands,
separated by three inches of hard, vein-laden black
flesh; not even able to touch the tip of her index
fingers to her opposable thumbs holding, up to what
her tongue wrapped under. Still standing in being
slightly bent over of spine, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
rewrapped her warm tongue under the biggest black
penis head--that she had ever licked and sucked,
opened her mouth as wide as she could, and wrapped her
pink-red lips completely around her black master’s
totally stiff penis head.
“Hmm,” Suzy Q throated from her throat, mindful
of Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s teeth. And she in being
slightly bent over at the waist, tightly gripping her
two hands around a black penis--that she couldn’t even
wrap her fingers all the way around, stroking up hard
black flesh to her mouth, continued to slowly suck in
being slightly bent over at the waist. Forty-five
seconds later, and to those forty-five seconds just
past, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz had somehow managed to
stuff a whole three and one-quarter inches of her
black master’s black penis in her warm mouth slowly
sucking as slave, and she did so without scraping the
bottom of her clean, white teeth on her black master’s
sensitive flesh. To the last seven seconds of those
forty-five seconds, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; still
slightly bent at the thin waist; breathed in having
her eight fingers halfway intertwined around the
extreme lower base of her black master’s grossly huge
and very hard black penis. The bottom of her left
thumb, pressing up to the hard, bottom black flesh of
her black master’s thickly vein base muscle, the
knuckle of that left thumb hers, pressed halfway to
the bottom of her right thumb. So grasping as this in
her slightly bent over position, the still air,
freezing, a second time for Miss Patricia Olkeweitz,
in seeing how far away her sucking lips said to her
halfway, intertwined hands grasping her black master’s
lower base muscle. And she of rolling green acres, now
held two and one-half inches of her black master’s
black penis inside her sucking mouth, sucking--as that
of a plump-lipped goldfish breathing air. Knowing her
black master’s deep muscle to be now hard as a rock,
unbelievably seeing how far away her lips--that
wrapped around her black master’s taut, spongy hard,
black penis head, this, while she had all of her
fingers halfway intertwined around her black master’s
thick, lower base muscle, the bottom of her left
thumb, pressed up to better hold those halfway,
intertwined fingers, the bottom of her right thumb,
supporting that heavy, hard weight raised to freezing
air, and so doing all this in her slightly bent over
stand to that of a snowy pavement. Well sensing that
he of her devil-looking black master was going to
ejaculate inside her mouth at any second, she heard to
her light gagging in waiting for her black master’s
sperm to shoot inside her mouth, “Turn around, you
fucken’ ho’.”
 Miss Patricia Olkeweitz let fall the biggest,
heaviest, vein-laden black penis that she had ever
seen or felt in her twenty years of life, she should
know, Suzy Q had caused Miss Patricia Olkeweitz to see
plenty within the last year or so. The still air,
freezing. Seeing of what did so fall to that of
freezing air, stiffly swinging down between her black
master’s legs. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; her high heel,
platform combat boots planted to that of a pavement
covered with snow four inches deep, temporarily
wondered how high her black master’s thick, vein-laden
rock-hard black penis could swing back up and rise to
that of still, freezing air. And she eyed with that of
a cloud of condensation coming out of her
apprehensively panting, warm mouth--that it of such,
eventually bent up in the middle a little from
gravity’s causing standstill of swinging as that of a
thick, knotted black gym rope. And to Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz’s Polish-American brown eyes--that grossly
huge, black penis head said as being mentally painful.
For she should know, in that not more than ninety-odd
minutes ago--that seeing, thick, black giant spear
head, had been the painful start of her devil-looking
black master brutally raping her again up her
painfully flesh stretching, pink anus muscle, raped--
as she stood in gripping the soft black leather edge
of a crap table. Not more than ninety-odd minutes ago,
her devil-looking black master savagely stuck twelve,
thick, hard inches up her little rear, and as her
Cleopatra-sized, fresh breasts had jiggled up-and-down
then, swung round and round, she screamed and screamed
until she just grunted from her moving chest. Fast
thrusting agony past felt she--as she had gripped soft
black leather holding to that of a crap table, past
agony, in looking down at that murdered woman
unseeingly decaying to the middle of that crap table.
Thinking she that’, to what she now gazed at to that
of freezing air. “How the fuck can he be hard, again?”
Knowing Miss Patricia Olkeweitz of experienced Suzy
Q--that this heavy, long stretching and thickly
veined, black flesh could not stick straight out, but,
also knowing from Suzy Q experience--that her black
master’s black penis said as being just as rock-hard--
as her beloved fiancée’s four and one-quarter inch,
erect penis. “...It’s bending straight up in the
middle. What the fuck? Oh, no.” Thus in this her black
master’s state, she knew to be raped, again.
“I said turn around you fucken’, asshole!”
To the living black nightmare breath of her now,
she breathed in fast pants of fear, clouds of
condensation, blowing out of her warm mouth with every
fast, fearful breath that she exhaled. Severely
gripping the icy-crusted, lightly snow-covered edge of
her convertible Mustang’s driver’s side roof, warm
jetting air, coming from inside that green painted
Mustang hers, she suddenly recalled once again to mind
of that young woman lying to the center of a crap
table, a plastic sheet underneath that naked, young
woman--that young woman’s unmoving throat, cut ear to
ear. Her devil-looking black master; ninety minutes
ago; had savagely shoved up 12, thick, hard inches up
inside her pink anus muscle--as she looked down at a
dead, young woman that had her throat cut. Screaming
in pain she did as she looked down at a young woman
that had her throat cut ear to ear. Thinking about
that murdered woman while severely gripping the icy-
crusted, lightly snow-covered edge of her convertible
Mustang’s driver’s side roof, warm jetting air, coming
from inside that green painted Mustang hers, she
sensed that murdered woman had been in that of a
sexual position, much as the one’ that she now found
her fearfully panting selfhood in. Great worry entered
her mind, from knowing that her devil-looking black
master may cut her throat. Cut her throat ear to ear,
just to steal her beloved Mustang. To all this
picturing of’, the mid-morning’s air, freezing, the
fingers and thumbs of her palms, still severely
gripping the icy-crusted, lightly snow-covered edge of
her convertible Mustang’s driver’s side roof, warm
jetting air, coming from inside that green painted
Mustang hers, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz heard her devil-
looking black master light an obvious, expensive
lighter. And from that of innate curiosity; smelling
rich lighter fluid mixed with freezing air, she turned
her elfin chin to the right while severely gripping
the icy-crusted, lightly snow-covered edge of her
convertible Mustang’s driver’s side roof, warm jetting
air, coming from inside that green painted Mustang
hers.
“...Bitch! If you turn around one more time! I’m
gonna’ whup’ the living shit out of you!”
To the living black nightmare breath of her now,
she breathed in fast pants of fear, condensation
emanating from her warm mouth, recalling to mind of
how her black master’s heavy black penis, fell in that
of an arching up manner and swung up a little between
black-colored legs, looking it as some thick, knotted
black gym rope. And she of rolling green acres, broken
in by that of an interracial, Chicago porno studio
called Adult World Productions, did so breathe in fast
pants of fear, while severally gripping the icy-
crusted, lightly snow-covered edge of her convertible
Mustang’s driver’s side roof, warm jetting air, coming
from inside that green painted Mustang hers. She of
acute smelling, smelled marijuana smoke mix with
freezing air and Miss Patricia Olkeweitz smiled that
of a white smile of cunning dissoluteness, hoping that
her devil-looking black master would share. “Smells
good,” she thought in her high heel, platform combat
boots planted to that of a pavement goodly snow-
covered. And she of rolling green acres did so, while
severely gripping the icy-crusted, lightly snow-
covered edge of her convertible Mustang’s driver’s
side roof, warm jetting air, coming from inside that
green painted Mustang hers. She felt that cold hand
roughly push up the hem of her black cotton miniskirt.
And so, Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; looked
down at the prettiest, rosy-cheeked little white tail
that he ever saw. It looked more as a boy’s hard ass
than a girl’s, but when you touched it, such felt soft
as velvet silk. The still air, freezing.
“...You give up dat’ porno pussy, for reefer,
ho’? Here, you fucken’ bitch. Smoke this.”
She subconsciously eyed of her black master’s
breaths of condensation from that of freezing air and
jerked her chin back, because of seeing that of a well
lit and loosely rolled, fat marijuana cigarette inches
from her warm, pink-red lips. And she did so as she
severely grip the icy-crusted, lightly snow-covered
edge of her convertible Mustang’s driver’s side roof,
warm jetting air, coming from inside that green
painted Mustang hers. “...Put it between your lips,
you dumb fuck!” Hearing that, she hesitantly took to
her reaching lips, for that of a loosely rolled and
well lit, fat marijuana cigarette. This smuggled
marijuana so rolled in that of legal, French-made
rolling papers, was illegally grown in Hawaii. Not
knowing how to smoke a legal tobacco cigarette by just
the use of her lips, let alone that of a loosely
rolled and well lit, fat marijuana cigarette, she
sucked on this joint for about three puffing seconds,
until she got the hang of it. Within five seconds from
the start of her fast puffing, finally inhaling a huge
lungful of Hawaiian-grown marijuana smoke then,
holding that high-grade marijuana smoke in her lungs
for three to four seconds, she abruptly exhaled that
of a huge cloud of blue smoke in being high as a
proverbial kite, her Polish-American brown eyes,
seeing the tip of the marijuana cigarette lightly
flare. Knowing well she exhaled in being that ‘high,
way, because of that freaked out paranoia feeling that
she so loved. To the puffing breath of her now, she
breathed in having that of a loosely rolled and well
lit, fat marijuana cigarette between her chilled, warm
pink-red lips, mindlessly letting the ash of Hawaiian-
grown marijuana and rolling paper, fall to the snow-
covered pavement, and doing so while severely gripping
the icy-crusted, lightly snow-covered edge of her
convertible Mustang’s driver’s side roof, warm jetting
air, coming from inside that green painted Mustang
hers. Now adeptly puffing on that of a loosely rolled
and well lit, fat marijuana cigarette; Hawaiian-grown;
then, inhaling another huge lungful of that marijuana
smoke, holding that high-grade smoke in her lungs for
three to four seconds, then exhaling, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz breathed in being so high on top-quality
THC--that she forgot where she was for the proverbial
moment. Puffing away--as some cigar connoisseur and
doing so to ready herself for another lungful of
marijuana smoke; Hawaiian-grown; she of reddening eyes
noticed that diving redbird having crested head, a
short, thick bill, and bright-red plumage fly red
chest up and away, and that of winging red color to
winter trees white snow background, looked as slow-
motion to her Polish-American brown eyes. But, she
still puffed on that well lit and loosely rolled, fat
marijuana cigarette, while severely gripping the icy-
crusted, lightly snow-covered edge of her convertible
Mustang’s driver’s side roof, warm jetting air, coming
from inside that green painted Mustang hers.
Wordlessly ready, her high heel, platform combat boots
planted to that of a pavement goodly covered in snow
four inches deep, now thinking she that this all some
type of outdoor winter game, inhaling marijuana smoke;
Hawaiian-grown; holding that marijuana smoke in her
young lungs, and then exhaling that marijuana smoke,
having no girly panty on for moments as this, she in
her standing on that of a pavement goodly covered with
snow, felt her devil-looking black master swing up his
grossly huge black penis, and felt she the spongy,
hard start of her devil-looking black master being
prevented from swinging up further, because of her
sheer silk, nylon-covered legs being pressed near
thigh to thigh.
“...Bitch! Spread your legs! I’s’ ready to break
dis’ shit in.” Her devil-looking black master
commanded of his new, broken in white slave,
condensation, emanating from his gutter-born mouth.
The still air, freezing.
In so having that of a one-quarter smoked,
loosely rolled and well lit marijuana cigarette held
between her pink-red lips, fearfully moving her right
foot covered over in that of a high heel, platform
combat boot one to two inches to the snowy right,
inhaling briefly, and then exhaling marijuana smoke;
Hawaiian-grown; having no girly panty on for fast
moments as this, she of being high as a proverbial
kite, heard, “...Nigger, raise that white ass up!
What? I gotta’ teach you how ta’ fuck, too? Dumb,
fucken’ porno queen, huh. Can’t even fuck right.”
 In so being high as that proverbial kite, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz huff-laughed’ between her lips that
held a two inch long, loosely rolled and well lit, fat
marijuana cigarette. In no way was she going to let
that joint fall. So, she of once upon a-time
interracial, Midwest porno actress, slightly arched
her lower back from practice, forced herself to feel
soft down there, and raised her little tail up in that
obvious way, and she did so, while severely gripping
the icy-crusted, lightly snow-covered edge of her
convertible Mustang’s driver’s side roof, warm jetting
air, coming from inside that green painted Mustang
hers. She liked that fresh snow all over the place.
Now expertly puffing on that of a loosely rolled and
well lit, fat marijuana cigarette; Hawaiian grown;
then, inhaling another huge lungful of that marijuana
smoke, holding that high-grade marijuana smoke in her
lungs for two to three seconds, then exhaling, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz breathed in being so high on top-
quality THC--that she forgot where she was for the
proverbial moment. And straightaway, she experienced
the rough, disrespectful rubbing of her devil-looking
black master, doing that to her down there, a rubbing
that said as being totally new to that loose, private
area of hers but, not totally new to her, its just
that she never felt it that big and round before,
roughly rubbing up-and-down that private area of hers.
To and from Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s feeling mind
getting higher and higher from top-grade THC, the up-
and-down, then side to side rubbing, felt as that of a
small woman’s clenched fist. Suddenly, to her puffing
on that of a loosely rolled, well lit, fat marijuana
cigarette, she began to panic, natural adrenaline,
shooting up from her lower, muscle-rippled belly. Her
mind, now knowing this no winter game. Because, she
now knew she to be pained all the way, pained more
painfully than she had ever been pained before. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz, feeling that disrespectful feeling
that she had never experienced before, still puffing
on that of a loosely rolled and well lit marijuana
cigarette; Hawaiian-grown; inhaling a lungful of that
marijuana smoke then, exhaling, did not know that her
loose, chilled pink vaginal lips winged back from her
heated accord of flesh, and when her extreme, outer
private area cracked open from her mind’s robotic
readiness, looking pink, such of that starting pink,
looked as that of a black, corkscrewed hole almost the
size of a full, elongated dime. And her stimulated,
warming up flesh-color clitoris, could be seen to non-
witnessed eye--as grossly hanging in being blood-
gorged and perfunctorily ready to feel flesh
stretching pain. Her clit’s very ending, at full,
sticking out erection and looking white with sudden
excite. Thinking about that new feeling that felt as
that of a small woman’s fist rubbing her ready flesh-
pink hole, puffing faster on that of a loosely rolled
and well lit, fat marijuana cigarette in fear, holding
a lungful of this marijuana smoke, severely gripping
the icy-crusted, lightly snow-covered edge of her
Mustang’s driver’s side roof, warm jetting air, coming
from inside that green painted Mustang hers, she came
as to be plunged halfway and further painfully flesh
stretched inch by gradual inch. Now, we will remember
that fat Mike White; #1 of wing ‘Blue; always
recruited innately criminal, Negro-American males that
had grossly huge penises. And but of course fat Mike
White; #1 of wing ‘Blue; had inspected to see if they
of black skin did so have grossly huge penises. To
add, it said easy to recruit innately criminal, Negro-
American males, but, it was rather difficult finding
Negro-American males that had an overtly thick penis
twelve inches and over. But find and recruit he did
for this stage of the pipeline. That funneling stage,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz now unwittingly found her
little tail snared in... Debbie. Sonja. It was called
the pipeline and so called the pipeline by the lord
and master of the Dark Disciples, and this sole-leader
of the Dark Disciples, breathed in doing life inside
an Illinois State penitentiary. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, now twenty years of age and still fresh of
angelic face, breathed amongst this mad circle called
the Dark Disciples. Because, in the beginning,
seventeen-year-old, soon to turn eighteen years old,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, had moved in life as an
exotic dancer that spent her easy money on expensive
Suzy Q things, such as marijuana and almost pure
cocaine then, an interracial, Midwest porno actress
she came to be, and where that she spent even more
money on expensive Suzy Q things, and spent even more
money on marijuana and almost pure cocaine. And now to
the breath of her now, sensing resting, night before
snow everywhere and winter trees with snow-laden
hedges all around an expansive backyard--that held
tarp-covered cement swimming pool, subconsciously
knowing that she owed someone twenty thousand dollars,
because, she really didn’t know if she owed all this
money to skinhead Derrick the porno actor, or to that
devil-looking black man standing right behind her
exposed, near chilled to the bone buttock cheeks, her
high heel, platform combat boots, planted firmly to
that of a hard pavement that had snow covering it;
hoping that what she did last night, would make a less
of what she owed from gambling; she of rolling green
acres, softly moaned from her curved up--like a
banana, puffed out, lower belly,
“Hoooooooooooooooohhhhhhh.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
sounded as some bass to treble female opera singer;
mindlessly letting that of a half-smoked, loosely
rolled and well lit, fat marijuana cigarette tumble
and fall from her chilled lips down to that of a
pavement snow-covered. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz of Suzy
Q experience, thought that her devil-looking black
master had pushed his excited self, all the way up to
her painfully flesh stretching, softening and loose,
well known eleven and one-quarter inches inside her
tough vaginal muscle. So sensing that her devil-
looking black master had pushed all he had up inside
her, painfully stretching her inner flesh all the way
around, she let her black master’s very thick and very
long, eleven and one-quarter inch, rock-hard black
penis, rest firmly up inside her puffed out, little
belly. This resting’ of her devil-looking black master
standing behind her, undoubtedly to ready his new,
broken in white slave for that of fast and painful
flesh stretching, eleven and one-quarter inch strokes.
To her vaginal muscle being painfully stretched all
the way around, especially the opening start of this
her gripping loose vaginal muscle, she of rolling
green acres breathed in still severly gripping the
icy-crusted, lightly snow-covered edge of her
convertible Mustang’s driver’s side roof, warm jetting
air, coming from inside that green painted Mustang
hers. And she of being very high from inhaling and
exhaling lit marijuana illegally grown in Hawaii,
throated, “Oh. Yeah. Hmm. Ah. I, can. Feel it. Beat.
Up. In. In. In, me. Ah. It’s. It’s. Stretching. My.
Cunt. All. The way. Oh. Around. Hmm. Please. Master.
Ow. O’ my goodness.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz giggled,
and thought that her devil-looking black master had
pushed his excited self all the way up to her
painfully stretched out, softening and loose, well
known eleven and one-quarter inches, letting her black
master’s very thick and very long, eleven and one-
quarter inch, rock-hard black penis rest firmly up
inside her puffed out, little belly. This resting’,
undoubtedly to ready his new, broken in white slave
for that of fast and painful flesh stretching, eleven
and one-quarter inch strokes. And as her devil-looking
black master rested his grossly huge, hard black thing
stuck way up inside her puffed out, little belly, she
of rolling green acres breathed in heavy, fast pants
of panic, separate clouds of condensation, pouring out
of her fast panting, warm mouth. Fast pants of panic,
from feeling her flesh-pink, stuffed black hole being
painfully stretched all the way around, the still air,
freezing. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, breathing--like
that, thought that her devil-looking black master had
pushed his excited self all the way up to her
painfully flesh stretching, softening and loose, well
known eleven and one-quarter inches, letting her black
master’s very thick and very long, eleven and one-
quarter inch, rock-hard black penis rest firmly up
inside her puffed out, little belly, this resting’,
undoubtedly to ready his new, broken in white slave
for that of fast and painful, eleven and one-quarter
inch strokes, and she did so, while severely gripping
the icy-crusted, lightly snow-covered edge of her
convertible Mustang’s driver’s side roof, warm jetting
air, coming from inside that green painted Mustang
hers. She of rolling green acres, with that of eleven
and one-quarter inches of new, now known, very hard
black flesh painfully stuffed in stretching her
vaginal muscle all the way around, and so resting to
where Miss Patricia Olkeweitz had been touched more
than once, but, not in this newfound, pain-filled,
thick way, felt she a firmer grip of cold black hands
touching all around her thin, warm snow-white hips,
and sensed she her devil-looking black master shuffle
his shoe-covered, right foot forward. And from that
forward thrust, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz came as to be
poked up and painfully flesh stretched of four more
inches, to those eleven and one-quarter inches--that
her devil-looking black master had rested thickly up
inside her puffed out, little belly.
“...Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwaaoooowwahhhhh! Oh, my, God!
It’s all the way in!” Whilst Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
agonizingly screamed this to that of freezing air, the
fingers and thumbs of her chilled hands went ridged
and straight, her palms, severly pressing to that of a
cold, icy-crusted, lightly snow-covered canvass, and
so looking these limbs--as she being electrocuted.
Then, at the same time, her rosy-cheeked face showed
as being in total, scrunched up, unbearable pain. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz felt as to turn and strike her
devil-looking black master with angry fists, the
stretching pain--that much, but, she let her devil-
looking black master rest to where she had never felt
such puff and painfully flesh stretch before. She of
fearfully panting, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, full of
mind’s familiar dread from the fast, pelvic-thrusting
plunges that undoubtedly mayhap, stayed her thin hips
as being still and barely moving. To and from her
unmoving stand to that of four inches of snow, feeling
unbearable pain just sit up there thick and hard, her
devil-looking black master, not going in and out, she
snarled from her nostrils and curled up, pink-red
lips, “Uhhuhhgghh. Huhgngaaw. Uhhhgg. Uhhhhh. Uhhh.
Uhh. Uh. Oh. O’.” And she did so as some wild, panting
animal ready to kill something. Because, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, to that of surrounding air freezing, hot
air blasting from inside her Mustang, felt the
pulsating, thick heat of her black master’s black
muscle rest way up inside her little, puffed out
belly. Way up, in never feeling such flesh stretching
pain before. In so readying her selfhood for that
inevitable back and forth, unbearable pain, she slid
her right foot covered in sheer silk nylon and a high
heel, platform combat boot, two inches to the snowy
right. Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; pulled
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s thin white hips back on him,
and then grinded in that last inch that held to his
sixteen and one-quarter inch, grossly huge and vein-
laden, hard black penis. And from that one inch so
grinded thickly up and in Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, his
new, broken in white slave screamed in that of total
pain, “Hooooooooooooooawww! Oh! My! God!
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwooaaaaahhh!”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; feeling her loose, yet
strong vagina uncontrollably contracting painfully
around her black master’s resting, thick throbbing
member, thus causing her puff-looking lower belly to
warmly shiver uncontrollably from pain, too; gripped
more tightly of the ice-crusty, lightly snow-covered
edge of her Mustang’s driver’s side roof, warm jetting
air, coming from inside that convertible Mustang hers.
In so being and now subconsciously feeling her vagina
uncontrollably contracting painfully around her black
master’s, black penis muscle, knowing her lower belly
to be warmly shivering from feeling unbearable, deep
stretching pain inside and all around her warming
vagina, she determinedly raised her right foot covered
in that of a high heel, platform combat boot, almost
to her chest covered over in that of a black cotton
miniskirt and waist tight rabbit fur, and stomped the
snowy pavement as hard as she could, whilst saying,
“Stop! I can’t! Take it!” Then, she felt her black
master’s grossly huge black penis head all come hip-
running’ out of her, knowing she that he did so,
because he whimsically felt as to do so. And such of
that of what she felt for the first time in her life,
felt as that of a burning, giant spear head
corkscrewing out four and one-half inches of deep,
virgin flesh.
“...Oww! Hmm. No. No. Fred. Fred!” She gasped
fast in not knowing where she breathed as, freezing
air, causing clouds of puffing condensation from her
warm, outspoken mouth. ”Master. Uuhaaah. Uhaah. Uhah.
Stuff it. Stuff it back in. It’s. It’s. It’s still
moving inside me.” She gasp, clouds of condensation
emanating from her warm, clean mouth, knowing she soft.
She of Suzy Q felt of no brokenhearted. She of
Suzy Q, wickedly feeling her deep, innermost, vaginal
muscle slowly closing in on its once virgin self, her
lower, puffed out belly, uncontrollably contracting.
Suzy Q now knew Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s black,
slacking hole, surrounded by that pretty pink flesh
that turned rosy red, could be filled beyond the
brimming point by her black master’s grossly huge, hot
throbbing member, and just as much, her black master’s
giant spear head could flesh stretch her painfully to
the start of Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s unsightly,
corkscrewed pink flesh, all the way down to where
recent, deep virgin flesh once said as.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; very high from just
recently puffing and inhaling lit Hawaiian-grown
marijuana, still gripping the icy-crusted, lightly
snow-covered edge of her Mustang’s roof, not even
feeling the freezing air in her slightly bent of spine
position, her back, arched--like a bow, her exposed,
flaunting tail, stuck up and out in that obvious way;
breathed of depraved mind as to call her devil-looking
black master ‘baby, and did so think that--as she
wantonly swung her palm-fitting, chilly bottom back
and forth, for her black master’s black eyes to see.
“...Please. Please, master.”
Suzy Q, in now having Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s
belly calm of uncontrollable contractions, curiously
wanted to know if, if that unbearable, flesh
stretching pain said as being real or not.
“Bitch, I ain’t got time to fuck you all day. We
got things to do.”
She of reddened eyes immediately turned around to
slightly look up at her devil-looking black master,
then, beauty first glance seen lowered her elfin chin,
and did so smile that of a pure evil white smile of
total surrender, to Devil’s twin.
And he of her devil-looking black master, while
pulling up red flaring flashy trousers, told his new,
broken in white slave of his plan. “First, we get U-
haul for your stuff.” This was going to be Richard the
Negro’s stuff. “Then, we sell your white ass to couple
customers of mine then, we go to my place. You live
outside of Kankakee, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you talk nigger, ho’! You say, yes,
master!”
“Yes, master,” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz humbly
said as she pulled down the tight, stretchy hem of her
black cotton miniskirt--that of a knotted, soft Rhine
gold chain graced to her slim, long matching neck. Now
starting to feel freezing air travel up to her private
area said as loose vagina, this freezing air, causing
that softness of hers to harden, she thought, “Fuck.
This bastard knows where I live.” Hearing her devil-
looking black master say, “Fuck it.” Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz eyed of her devil-looking black master
thinking, and to her Polish-American brown eyes, he
really did look as Devil himself. Then, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz’s devil-looking black master made known to
his new, broken in white slave, “We sell your ass to
couple customers, first, then we get your stuff.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, feeling trapped by the
black man, thought as to say if, if her twenty
thousand dollar gambling debt said less. This, because
of having hard driving, slightly painful sex with four
black boys and one black guy last night but, held she
her white slave tongue. And she did so, from
subconsciously remembering to mind of that naked,
young woman lying on a crap table with her throat cut,
this, as she of being alive in looking down at that
dead woman, gripped that crap table’s soft leather
edge in having her black master’s grossly huge black
penis, stroking twelve inches in and out of her pink
anus. Standing like that’, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz had
been, in being forced to take unbearable, flesh
stretching pain up her flesh-pink anus--as she had
gripped that soft leather edge of a crap table, and
looking down she of rolling green acres at that dead,
pretty woman that had her throat cut ear to ear. But,
she of breathing life and now being that of a new,
broken in white slave, did so bold to that of freezing
air, in sweetly saying to her devil-looking black
master, “Ah, I have to get some gas. Is. Is it okay if
my fiancée comes with me? I mean us? Ah? Master.”
“I don’t give ah’ fuck. Just follow me to da’ gas
station.”
But of course Miss Patricia Olkeweitz swiftly
bent over in picking up that damp and cold, half-
smoked, fat marijuana cigarette. And she smiled that
type of white smile from getting something for
nothing, she thought...

Miss Patricia Olkeweitz parked her rather new,

green painted convertible Mustang in that of a paved
of snow parking lot, the front fender of her Mustang,
now facing that of a red-bricked wall that held to a
sizable building. This parking lot, belonging to an
entrepreneur that owned a profitable shoe store and
this said obvious from the sign that told people,
PARKING FOR BROWN SHOES ONLY. Standing away from her
rather new Mustang, she eyed of her devil-looking
black master talking to his street-dressed’, black
friends; #24 of wing ‘Blue, and #25 of wing ‘Blue.
Whereupon, these two street-dressed’, Negro-Americans
went their told way--that is, walking to the local
pool hall to sell small bags of almost pure cocaine.
Then, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz heard from her pimp-
dressed’, devil-looking black master.
“Bitch, get your white ass over here!”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz quickly glanced around
the cold parking lot; a big snow pile, with resting
snow all around, she, wanting to see if, if any white
people had heard this curt command; red-bricked
buildings, near and all around this parking lot. She
felt relieved of Nordic-Slavic pride that no one had
witnessed this scene of black master and white slave,
and she did so, because she of rolling green acres
wasn’t that far gone to common, American whore.
American whore, for the black man. So, with her
English-made, $500, pocketbook’s thin leather strap
draped over her rabbit fur-covered, left shoulder, she
convincingly stepped forward of her high heel,
platform combat boots to her waiting black master
looking as Devil himself. Within speaking distance;
having that of a guarded lip-smile upon her lovely,
doll face free of makeup and perfume powder, she
heard, “There’s a line’ in the car. Hurry up, we ain’t
got all day.” And straightaway from hearing of what
she really loved, Suzy Q raised Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz’s natural pink-red, slender lips and
displayed that of a happy white smile, whilst saying,
“Thank...Thank you, master. Do...Do you want me to
suck your cock in the back seat? Please. Please,
master. I love you stuffed in my mouth. I won’t use my
teeth. I promise,” she ended ever so sweetly, batting
her eyelids free of makeup.
“Bitch, if you don’t does’ dat’ line’, right now,
I’s gonna’ whup’ on your ass right here! Listen, ho’,
put your hair up in ponytails, and when we go in dis’
place, act like you’re a little girl. I’s’ got
lollypops in glove compartment. And leaves’ your
pocketbook and coat in mys’ car.”
After Miss Patricia Olkeweitz snorted that fat
line of almost pure cocaine, this, inside her black
master’s 1981, white painted Cadillac, she felt ready
to do the whole world, especially the black world.
Dressed only in that of a short-sleeved, low-neck
black cotton miniskirt, sheer silk nylons to her
skinny, yet shapely legs, high heel, platform combat
boots to her near perfect feet--that of a knotted,
soft Rhine gold chain graced to her slim, long
matching neck, knowing her devil-looking black master
wanted her in ponytails and to be licking a lollypop--
like a little girl, she soon stood that way in being
in front of her devil-looking black master. Hearing,
“Go in ten seconds after I’s’ go in, and pretends you
don’t know me.” Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
turned around and walked toward a cement sidewalk.
Naturally, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz followed her devil-
looking black master. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz,
subconsciously liking the way her black master’s
opened mink fur coat flowed around his thin, five-
foot, nine inch body, the way his thin leather, gray
ankle buckle boots clicked on that of a pavement
cleared of snow, her black master’s floppy hat,
looking as... “If this motherfucker thinks he’s my
pimp, then he got another thing coming. Damn. That
coke’s good. I’ll betcha’ he got plenty. Fred. Okay,
take it easy. He gets done work at five’...”
In so having her devil-looking black master
pushing a heavy glass door to gain entrance to the
shoe store, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz waited outside to
the left side and counted to ten, passing cars, going
their American way in this industrial, slightly
depressed town lightly snow-covered. She entered the
unfamiliar, thankfully warm place whilst licking a
lollypop, hearing that small bell jingle of her
walkthrough presence, and tried the best she could to
act as she moved in life as being that of a perky,
wide-eyed ten-year-old. Espying of her devil-looking
black master looking at hiking boots, she glanced at
that white lady being fitted by a middle-aged white
man for shoes, then, noticed three white people
walking down an aisle full of shoeboxes to fancy
shelves. So, seeing all this, she of licking a
lollypop, ponytails dangling free and perky of fresh
face, she of that way wandered over to the sign that
said, LADIES SHOES. Three to four minutes later; a
high heel, whorish-looking shoe in her studying left
hand, a lollypop in her right hand, she turned to the
left from that of sixth sense, and eyed of her mink-
furred, devil-looking black master talking softly to a
middle-aged, conservatively-dressed white man. And
this middle-aged white man, the obvious owner of the
shoe store. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz knew that they
were softly arguing over the price of her, so, wanting
as much as her gambling debt to be paid off, she
placed the high heel shoe to where she had found it,
fully faced the middle-aged white man that stood next
to her devil-looking black master, and began to lick a
lollypop--as if she moved in life as being an
adorable, ten-year-old’, cute ponytails, adding to
that look. From that four second act, she turned her
skinny, yet curvy body to the right whilst holding a
lollypop in her right hand, bent over in having her
sheer silk, nylon-covered legs straight and ridged,
which caused the tight, stretchy hem of her black
cotton miniskirt to rise in almost showing her little
bottom, the wide elastic band of these sheer silk
nylons, she knew were definitely showing. Knowing all
that sexy, girly stuff showed to eye, she took hold of
a high heel shoe... Twenty-odd minutes later, and in
so having a lollypop totally licked and sucked as to
be tossed to that of a searched for trashcan, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz sat her little bottom on that of a
hardwood chair and noticed the middle-aged white man
that had been measuring a fat, black lady’s white-
socked covered foot, and after this fat black lady had
paid for a box of shoes, she of waddling fatness,
departed the shoe store with shopping bag in hand. As
soon as this fat black lady did so waddle out of the
shoe store, the owner of the warm place; a middle-aged
white man, placed a sign on the glass door. She
couldn’t read what this sign stated but, the stating
said as, WILL RETURN AT, and to those bold print
words, an imitation clock showed black arms telling of
10 o’clock. This meant to this morning’s day; unknown
to Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; that the shoe store owner
would be having his place closed for the next one
hundred minutes. He--that is the shoe store owner,
gave himself an extra thirty minutes for his last
customer. And ten to eleven minutes later, this
profitable shoe store said empty of customers. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz did not know this, but her devil-
looking black master had lied to the middle-aged white
man, and he of #23 of wing ‘Blue, had lied in saying
that Miss Patricia Olkeweitz moved in life as being
sixteen years old... “She still fresh. Got tight,
little girl pussy. Virgin ass. More.”
But this middle-aged, conservatively-dressed
white man’s fetish said as being rather strange,
strange in that of him sensing that this skinny
teenager with ponytails acting as a little girl did
blacks’, and a wave of sudden lust crossed over his
private area from sensing that. He heard from that
thin black man standing next to him, a thin black man
that he did business with, for the last two years, and
who so had obviously been at that perky-eyed girl
gracing dark golden-brown ponytails. And so doll of
fresh face she looked in that black cotton miniskirt.
“...She go good one thousand’. One hour. No rough
stuff.”
“I’ll give ya’ one hundred’, if I can film you
fucking her.”
“Aw, forget it, man.” Richard the Negro; #23 of
wing ‘Blue; turned to leave, his new, broken in white
slave, promptly standing to her high heel, platform
combat boots, in being ready to follow her devil-
looking black master. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
subconsciously puffed in being impressed, grudgingly
seeing how her black master’s mink fur, twirled around
his flashy red flaring trousers.
“Wait! Five hundred’. Just me and her.”
“Seven’.”
“Six hundred’, and one hundred dollars worth of
shoes. That’s my final offer.”
“Done, holm’. Hey, you! Follow Mister Brown and
do what he says.”
And so, five-foot, three inches, 102 lb., Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz, attired in that of a short-
sleeved, low-neck black cotton miniskirt, sheer silk
nylons to her skinny, yet shapely legs, high heel,
platform combat boots to her near perfect feet, her
dark, golden-brown hair done up in cute ponytails--
that of a knotted, soft Rhine gold chain graced to her
slim, long matching neck, came as to be directed up
wooden stairs very old looking, and then she nervously
came as to be led inside that of a large, clean office
on the second floor of the shoe store. Naturally, she
glanced through one of the two glass windows of this
warm office and eyed the dumb roof of a McDonald’s
restaurant. She heard...
“Shut the door. Then come on over here.”
The middle-aged white man, walked directly toward
a TV--that had a VCR atop of that TV, a four-legged,
two drawer stand, holding that TV. To that, he turned
the power on to both of these crafted devices, and
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, standing slightly to the left
of her black master’s customer, soon eyed of an X-
rated movie in that of moving process. She of keen eye
couldn’t believe what she breathed in seeing. For
there up on that TV screen, showed the left profiled,
naked, skinny, yet curvy body of Suzy Q on her bare
knees, and that of a waiting, tucked of tight white
sheet, big bed showed obvious to Suzy Q’s knelling,
right side. Naked Jerome the porno actor, breathed in
looking down at kneeling Suzy Q, and he of the Negro
did so, with that of a wide, jackass grin on his ugly
black-brown face. To that TV telling of an X-rated
movie, naked Jerome the porno actor breathed in having
five inches of his thick, eleven and one-quarter
inches of black-skinned flesh, stuck in Suzy Q’s
sucking, spit-laden mouth. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
noted that Suzy Q had totally messed up, dyed blonde
hair in this particular X-rated movie and her cute
face had loads of makeup on, which made colorful Suzy
Q look older than just recently turning nineteen’.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and Mister Brown watched and
heard naked Jerome say nasty things to kneeling Suzy
Q, and she of being fearfully found out that she moved
in life as being that of a once upon a-time,
interracial, Midwest porno actress, did so hear from
her black master’s rather odd customer...
“I like your combat boots. Where did ya’ get
‘em?” Mister Brown wanted to know, taking the fast
motions to professionally feel the left ankle area of
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s high heel, platform combat
boot.
“Chicago.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; naturally looking
downward, still feeling uncertain from her absolute
knowing to be her first whore, Suzy Q, knowing that
Oriental-looking Elizabeth was not here filming this
her first, knowing whore; felt the trembling palm of
this stranger’s left hand, smoothly traveling up her
sheer silk, nylon-covered left leg and she of rolling
green acres had sudden instinct to shout at the world
that she not whore. She of once upon a-time, hearing,
“You’re a good little girl, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Yes. Yes, I’m a good, little girl.”
“Sometimes, little girls like this.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Say that. Say, little girls like me, like this.”
“Little girls like me like this.”
To that ‘want to rightfully shout out to the
world, he of her black master’s customer stopped his
feeling, left hand at mid-thigh, and to that feeling
of her nylon-covered thigh being felt, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz felt her vaginal lips robotically slack out
a little--as there said no panty on her, to hold up
that loose, extreme outer private area of hers. From
that sudden and mechanical, slacked out, falling down
feeling that she had felt within the last four to five
months, she wanted to reach of her right hand to
readjust those loose, slightly hanging out vaginal
lips of hers, but did not. Mister Brown moved his left
hand down to feel the high platform area of her left,
high heel combat boot--as these solid platforms, added
three inches to her five-foot, three inch height.
These solid platforms, making her skinny body, look
even skinnier.
“Leather laced combat boots, with solid
platforms. Lace, pure cloth-nylon. And the platforms
are done with high-grade, black rubber. Uh-huh. This
is that new black rubber coming out of England. Oh,
yeah this is good quality,” he said professionally,
feeling the side of the high platform that held well
to her right, black leather combat boot. “Here. Lift
your foot up.” She let him lift her left ankle up.
“Oh, yeah. Water resistant and slip proof. Perfect
tread. It looks like you could walk on ice and not
fall. Can you run in ‘em?”
“Feels as I could run a mile.” She felt him
release her left ankle, and she stood straight.
“No kidding. What’s the name of the place you
bought these?”
“Shoes. Fifth Street,” she informed to her black
master’s customer, seeing him stand.
“That’s it? That’s the name? Shoes?”
 “Shoes Fifth Street. Yep.”

Miss Patricia Olkeweitz thought the conversation

a little strange, subconsciously knowing that she
breathed in whoring for her devil-looking black
master, and memory’s flash caused her mind to be
filled with unwanted trepidation, recalling of that
unbearable, flesh stretching pain that she felt about
one hour ago. Thinking, “He was only up in me for a
couple of seconds. Fuck...” And more subconscious fear
entered her muscle-rippled, lower belly curved up--
like a banana said stuffed there. Knowing she of
rolling green acres that her devil-looking black
master could pain her all the way, anytime he of Negro
skin felt as to do so. Saying somewhere in the corners
of her escaping mind, “Fred. O’ God, Fred. Please.
Please, save me.”
Meanwhile, up there on the color TV screen,
kneeling Suzy Q, her palms resting on her thin hips--
as she some touting princess of high sluts, said
gently sucking on one inch of Jerome’s eleven and one-
quarter inches, and she of Suzy Q, had Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz’s eyelids lightly lowered in that of
untaught delirium.
“No kidding, I’ll have to check it out. How ya’
get that bruise on your face?”
“Ah. I fell on the ice.”
“Well, it doesn’t look too bad. Okay. I do it
with a condom. Now. Stand next to the TV and dance a
little bit. You know, swish your ass around.” Then,
the middle-aged white man neatly took off his clothes,
took two white cotton towels to hand, placed these
towels on a tan leather couch and sat on these two
towels, a tan leather couch beneath those towels in
facing the TV screen--that moved in moving color.
Mister Brown reached down to his right foot area,
dipped his fingers inside a coffee cup, and rubbed
100% Vegetable Oil all over his soft penis, two
towels, beneath him. Mister Brown looked at the TV
screen and watched Suzy Q raise her left hand and take
firm hold to the middle of eleven and one-quarter
inches of hard black flesh, the fingers and opposable
thumb of her left hand, barely being able to wrap all
the way around to what she tightly gripped to that
hand. Mister Brown watched that TV and began
stimulating his hardening penis--as Suzy Q, up there
on that TV screen, stroked her fisted, left hand up-
and-down on that thick and hard black flesh as fast as
she could. Mister Brown, hearing Suzy Q saying on that
TV screen, “You like that?” Suzy Q stroked even faster
of her tightly gripping, left hand, and Mister Brown
liked the way that of a low hanging, black-skinned
scrotum shook to her fast stroking. “...Huh? You like
that? Yeah? You like that? You want to put this big
black dick, in my little white pussy? Yeah. I want
that big cock fucking me, fucking me good.” Mister
Brown watched as Suzy Q opened her mouth as wide as
she could, and then wrap her pink lipstick-coated lips
around that big black penis head. Mister Brown watched
as Suzy Q lovingly lowered her makeup-covered eyelids
and mindlessly moan from her thin throat, and then
gently moved her head side to side, and it looked to
the eye--as Suzy Q said worshipping of face to those
two inches of black flesh in her sucking mouth. Mister
Brown, seeing Suzy Q take firmer grip of her pink
lipstick-coated lips around that of a black penis
head, did so hear Suzy Q suddenly snarl-moan’,
“...Hgghhhmmmm. Hghhmm. Hghhmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm.
Hmm,” while watching this blonde porno actress,
sucking that black guy as fast and hard as she could.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; she was so Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, because, she now moved in life as being no
longer Suzy Q the interracial, Midwest porno actress,
compared soft, live inches getting a little harder and
thought--like a common, American whore does for the
black man. “He’ll be easy.”
He of paying a bit of money, looked at the TV,
looked at Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s cute face so
adorable looking, and he liked her clean, dark golden-
brown hair done up in ponytails. And appreciate he did
that top-quality short-sleeved, low-neck black cotton
miniskirt of hers, and just as much, admiring those
sheer silk nylons running tight up to her skinny, yet
shapely legs. Naturally of eye he was to glance at
those high heel, platform combat boots that held to
her near perfect body--that of a knotted, soft Rhine
gold chain graced to her slim, long matching neck. And
just as much for all that he paid one hundred minutes
for, he smiled that of a white smile from seeing the
past said as, ‘sixteen, ‘she still fresh, teenager,
provocatively swaying next to that TV of his, her thin
hips, swaying to that of unheard music. And thought he
of what he looked at--that this skinny, yet curvy
blonde-hair girl starring in the X-rated movie, looked
as her. “Naw,” he thought then, he said aloud, “That’s
it. You swish your little ass good. Now. Tell me a
story while you’re rubbing your little girl pussy, and
watching that TV, of how you fuck blacks’. That have
big dicks like this guy. Look at it. She can’t even
get half of it, in her mouth.”
“I. I don’t do black guys.”
“That’s okay. Just pretend you do. Go ahead,
start rubbing your little. Little girl, pussy. Say,
I’m a little girl that likes...”

Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; had waited

in the pool hall with #24 of wing ‘Blue and #25 of
wing ‘Blue, and to that pool hall, they of Negro skin
sold ten thousand dollars worth of almost pure
cocaine, to the town’s major drug pusher. And Richard
the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; set rendezvous’ for the
sale of $250,000 of almost pure cocaine, to be sold to
this Caucasian-American female drug pusher--that
always wore fine leather clothing. She of being that
of a major/minor, Illinois drug pusher, had asked
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; if, if he had
time for ‘a quickie, in that of a hotel room. Because,
she had his black, sixteen and one-quarter inches’ all
the way up her blonde vagina, three weeks ago, and now
wanted that flesh stretching pain to forget how
unhappily she moved in life. Looking at that simple
clock on the red-bricked wall, he thought that his
new, broken in white slave should be done by now, and
said, “Some other time. Let’s go...”
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; wanted to
sell his new, broken in white slave to two more
customers that he knew would pay $1,000 dollars for
her boy-looking ass, because, twenty-year-old, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz breathed in life as being
absolutely doll. Not only that, she of rolling green
acres had that sweet and O’ so innocent of angelic
face. Those pink-red, doll pout lips of hers, natural,
those upraised and strongly chiseled cheeks of hers,
athletically sculptured, those sired brown eyes of
hers, bright-eyed, the way her shoulder length, dark
golden-brown hair fluffed so shiny in showing streaks
of winter gold--that of a knotted, soft Rhine gold
chain graced to her slim, long matching neck. But, he
of Negro skin had bigger fish to fry that day, and
thought of the hours it would take to place Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz’s stuff in a U-haul truck,
hopefully, good stuff--that he of the Negro, could
sell later. So, seventy minutes later, seeing restful
snow almost everywhere, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz parked
her convertible Mustang to the curb of the tree-lined
street that held before her upscale apartment;
upscale, in that mostly white people lived around her
paying $1,100 a month for rent. As soon as she
parked--that of a white painted Cadillac parked behind
her, and Miss Patricia Olkeweitz eyed of her beloved
fiancée, sitting on the snow swept cement steps that
led up to her nice apartment. Thinking, she, “What’s
he doing home so early?”
Fred, seeing his fiancée’s car, stood fast and
straightaway had that of a big, happy white smile on
his face then, he noticed two black guys sitting
inside an idling, white painted Cadillac. As he did,
he noticed that of a U-haul truck pull up and park
behind that white Cadillac.
“Patty!”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz quickly walked forward on
the sidewalk cleared of snow, snow-laden grass and
nice trees to the left and right of that sidewalk. And
once within speaking distance, she said, “Fred. Ow.”
She promptly used the mentally healing palm of her
left hand, to rub around her right, lower ribcage
area, well knowing that her devil-looking black master
had speared back virgin flesh way up in that tight
pink flesh area of hers.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. Just a little twinge. I mean,
cramp. Why are you home so early?”
“They laid me off. Plus, the manager locked our
door. We’re three months behind in the rent.”
“Shit.” She rested her left hand, feeling what
her devil-looking black master had done to her, slowly
subside. “...I knew this was going to happen.”
“Hey, how did you get that bruise on your face?”
“What? Oh. I fell on the ice.”
“It doesn’t look too bad. It should be alright.
Who are those guys over there? They keep looking at
us.”
“They’re Mary’s friends. I stayed over at her
house, last night.”
“I was wondering about that. You could’ve called.”
“I told you I’d be back late. And Mary’s, ah,
husband. Ah. She has a restraining order against her
husband, and I stayed with her last night, because she
was scared.”
“That was nice of ya’.”
“Yeah. Now. Listen. I got a plan.” She couldn’t
remember her black master’s name. “This guy. That guy
behind me in the car. He. Mary’s friend. Will let us
stay at his place, until we get back on our feet.
It’ll only be for a week or two.”
“What? Live with a nigger?”
“Fred, he’s a nice guy. Ah, he’s got plenty of
coke.”
“Really? He gives it for free?”
“Maybe. Look. You go over to the office and tell
the manager that we have a U-haul truck...”

Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, her beloved fiancée

sitting next to her, followed a U-haul truck that said
as being driven by a black man; #24 of wing ‘Blue. And
her devil-looking black master; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
showed to her rearview mirror as driving that of a
white painted Cadillac, in being close behind her
Mustang, another black man; #25 of wing ‘Blue; sitting
in the passenger seat of that white painted Cadillac
driven by her devil-looking black master. Soon, she
breathed nervously traveling north on the expressway
that lead to Chicago. Thinking she clever that she had
about six thousand dollars in her English-made, $500
pocketbook. She had planned to move out of her
apartment with Fred, anyway, because, she wanted to
get an apartment in Chicago and be near where all her
black friends lived. She heard her beloved fiancée
say, “We going to Chicago?”
“Ah. Yeah. Yes. Yes, master, I mean,” Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz giggled in being all mixed up
emotionally, traveling gas pedal at sixty-five miles
per hour. “Chicago. Yeah.”
Usually being that fresh party girl that she
moved in life as, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz would have
the Mustang’s radio blaring that of black music, but
to the breath of her now, black music said as being
the furthermost thing from her worried mind. Again,
she had that flash memory of her devil-looking black
master shuffle forward in snow ankle-deep, take firm
hold of her girly waist and grind in that last inch of
his grossly huge, thick black penis, and that what of
her black master’s giant spear head, did so painfully
flesh stretch her more painfully than she ever thought
possible. Then, from recalling how her belly
involuntarily shivered painfully warm--like a virgin
for the very first time, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
raised her natural, slender pink-red lips in showing
that of a depraved, pure evil white smile. Thinking--
as Suzy Q, this... “I felt it throbbing all the way up
inside me.” Then, saying she aloud, “Fred, there’s a
half ah’ joint in my pocketbook.” This said as being
the same loosely rolled and well lit, fat marijuana
cigarette; Hawaiian-grown; that she had been puffing
and inhaling, and puffing and inhaling, in so becoming
higher and higher, while having her high heel,
platform combat boots planted to that of a pavement
goodly covered in snow. She pictured her little, rosy-
cheeked bottom exposed to her black master’s black
eyes. And to the moment of her driving north on an
expressway, snow-laden trees and snow-laden fields to
the left and right of that expressway, she recalled
saying, ‘hoooooooooooooooohhhhhhh, and so causing that
well lit, half-smoked, fat marijuana cigarette to
tumble from her lips and fall to snow. And this of her
very loose, yet strong vaginal muscle being painfully
stretched all the way around; especially to the start
of her corkscrewed flesh-pink hole; said as being not
more than nine to ten hours ago. Though this cold,
half-smoked, fat marijuana cigarette, could be said as
being nothing to Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
it now said all-important for Miss Patricia Olkeweitz,
this, in her smelling marijuana smoke--that had just
now been lit up by her beloved fiancée. Fred severly
inhaled marijuana smoke, held his breath for at least
eight seconds, and then exhaled that of a cloud of
blue smoke. Now, on this smooth expressway, she
thought as to make a ‘run for it. Then, she recalled
of that naked, young woman lying on the middle of a
crap table. That young woman’s unmoving throat, cut
ear to ear. And to that thought, seeing her own naked
selfhood, gripping the soft black leather edge of that
crap table, while being forced to look down and see
that dead, young woman lying on a plastic sheet in the
middle of a crap table, and she had so looked at that
dead, young woman, with her devil-looking black master
shoving ten to twelve inches of his grossly huge,
black-skinned, totally hard, sixteen and one-quarter
inch, black penis in and out of her flesh-pink, clean
anus. And as her Cleopatra-sized, fresh breasts had
jiggled up-and-down then, swung round and round, she
screamed and screamed until she just grunted from her
moving chest. With that unwanted flash thought, this,
in the saying of that of a past, living black
nightmare act that happened that very morning, her
beloved fiancée passed her that of a well lit and
half-smoked, fat marijuana cigarette, and he did so
while saying, “Damn. This is good shit. Where did ya’
get it?”
“Huh? Oh. Mary’s.” She took to right hand of this
well lit and half-smoked, fat marijuana cigarette,
adeptly inhaled a huge lungful of this marijuana
smoke, held her breath from practice, blew blue smoke,
and passed the half-smoked and well lit, fat marijuana
cigarette to her beloved fiancée. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz now breathed as being Suzy Q and the feeling
felt good. In so being that fresh party girl that
liked to do it with black boys and black guys, nearly
all the time, she turned the car’s radio on.
“Patty, why do you always have to listen to this
nigger shit?”
“Goddamn it, Fred! Don’t start in on me!”
Three, flat seconds later, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz glanced at her beloved fiancée holding that
of a half-smoked marijuana cigarette in his right
hand, and she said to him, “Watch the ashes. Look.
Let’s just get through this.”
“Patty, what’s going on?”
“We’re broke. That’s what’s going on. You get
your check, today?”
“Yeah, a measly four-eighty’.”
“Fuck, we should’ve cashed it before we left.”
“Well, we can cash it tomorrow, right? You got at
least a grand’ in the bank, don’t ya’?”
“Fred, I had to pay for my car and everything.
Insurance. Then, I paid the balance for that dumb
furniture we got in that U-haul. That nigger is
driving.”
“Yeah. What’s up with all these niggers, all of a
sudden? I mean, for the last five, seven weeks, every
time I come home, there are black guys and black kids
at the house. Then, they leave with you, when you
leave for work.”
“O’ but you didn’t mind snorting their coke, did
ya’. And what about all those Friday nights in
Chicago, they’d dump a gram on ya’, just because
you’re my boyfriend. And what are you saying, anyway?
That I fucked those black kids. Guys. Instead of going
to work?”
“What I’m saying. Is that I told you they thought
we were dealing drugs, out of the apartment.”
“Darling, I love you, and I would never allow
myself to lose you, by sleeping with another man.
Look. Let’s just get through this. He’s Mary’s friend.
Well, I don’t mean the guy driving the truck, I mean
the guy driving the Cadillac.”
“Yeah, and what’s up with that guy? He’s dressed
like a freaken’ pimp.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz robotically said
somewhere inside her mind, “He my master, now.” Then,
she said aloud, “Look. We’re just going to stay with
this guy, for a week or two. By then, you should have
a job. You like Chicago?”
“Huh? Oh, Patty, I don’t want to live in the
city.”
“Why not? It’s a party town. They need mechanics
there up the ass.”
“Well. I guess it would be easier for you. You
wouldn’t have to travel so far.”
“I didn’t want to tell ya’ this. But, I lost my
job last week.”
“What!? Then where were you all this time?”
“See! See! I knew you’d start in on me! I was
over Mary’s! I didn’t want to tell ya’!”
“I’d like to meet this, Mary.”
“Fine! Now let’s just get through this fucken’
mess!”
“Fine!”
“Yeah! Fine! Put a clip on that shit.” Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz turned up the radio, wanting to
hear black music being really loud.

Three minutes of sixty-five miles per hour non-

conversation passed between Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
and Fred, when, they of to be wed this coming June,
espied the U-haul truck take the exit ramp that headed
for Morris. Fred breathed in being alertly confused,
while saying aloud, “I thought you said we were going
to Chicago?”
“Well. I’m not sure. Actually, Mary’s friend
lives up about this way.”

She slowly drove on that of a very unfamiliar

paved road still snow-covered; a forest, snow-covered
road that obviously said as being conservatively
private. To this private, forest snow-covered road,
thick, wild trees holding snow grew in sleeping to the
left and right. Intermittently, to the far distance
then, to the near of eye, she would look through the
dark cloud evening forest, in the seeing of that
barbwire fence all around this property that she
sensed her devil-looking black master owned. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz and Fred soon took note of that
sign stating, PRIVATE PROPERTY NO TRESPASSERS, and
after three to four minutes of slowly traveling
twenty-six miles per hour, she and Fred eyed that of a
huge and rather old, white painted Victorian house. In
having this evening’s last sunlight to sight, she
heard her beloved fiancée, say, “Wow. This looks like
a nice place, Patty.”
“Yeah, it does doesn’t it.”
The intermittently seen barbwire fence that
surrounded the snow-covered, forested property;
property that she sensed her devil-looking black
master owned; appeared rather sinister to her, not to
mention that stated private property no trespassers,
sign. But that stout and more than large, red-bricked
chimney spine--that gently let smoke billow up and out
to that of freezing air, looked nice ‘n cozy for cold
winter days such as this evening. To all this,
experienced Suzy Q, briefly thought what it would be
like, if, if Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s devil-looking
black master pained her all the way in front of that
cozy fireplace, yet fully seen, her black master’s
long-to-knee, mink fur coat, beneath her wiggling,
little bottom painfully catching up to the biggest...
“Christ, Patty, stop thinking about that fucker’.
It’s those veins that make him so hard. I mean shit.
His middle vein is longer than Fred’s cock. I wonder
why he doesn’t star in porn.”
Following a U-haul truck that slowly drove around
and to the rear of this enormous Victorian house,
winter trees everywhere, here and there, slumbering
brown brush beneath those snow-laden trees, hearing a
dog barking, she of keen eye, soon drove by that of a
red-bricked, electronically controlled, 7-car garage--
that of a strong, waterproof roof to that 7-car
garage. And to all this, noting she of Polish-American
brown eyes looking to the left--that of five, brand-
new white painted limousines and a brand-new, heavy-
duty Chevy van inside that well-built garage. Well
passing this oversized garage, she watched in the
rearview mirror as her devil-looking black master
parked his white painted Cadillac inside that red-
bricked, 7-car garage--that of a strong, waterproof
roof to that 7-car garage, noting she to recalled mind
that of five, brand-new white painted limousines and
that brand-new, heavy-duty Chevy van parked inside
that well-built garage. Seeing the U-haul truck that
she was following, park twenty to thirty yards further
to the snowy right of that 7-car garage, hearing a dog
barking, she of rolling green acres marveled from
seeing that of a huge and well-timbered barn, with at
least seven cords of firewood, stacked neatly inside a
bin that rested against that clapboard barn. And said
she perky to her wide-eyed, beloved fiancée, “Damn.
This guy does it right, don’t he?”
The light of day said near dark and Fred noticed
cold spotlights then, he eyed of ten to eleven lightly
snow-blanketed cars, parked under well-spaced winter
trees about 100 yards away, and said to his fiancée
that had her soft, dark golden-brown hair still done
up in cute ponytails; he liked her looking as that...
“We going to a party?”
“What?”
“Those cars, down over there.”
“Oh, yeah. Party. That’s right. I almost forgot.
Mary said he parties a lot.” And she of still having
ponytails--that made her look unpretentiously cute and
innocent of angelic face, said this while parking her
rather new, green painted convertible Mustang to the
right of a U-haul truck driven by a street-dressed’
black man; #24 of wing ‘Blue.
“You said he had plenty of coke?”
“Fred, do me a favor. Don’t ask. He’ll probably
just give us some. Now, he may talk a little rough,
but it’s just an act. He’s really a nice guy. I think
he owns a shoe store. Plus, he’s letting us stay here
for free. So, just be cool, alright? And everything
will work out.” She advised her beloved fiancée for
reason, hearing him say ‘yeah, in being curious as a
male chipmunk. She could tell that he breathed in
being antsy for that almost pure cocaine--that unknown
to her and him, came as to be supplied by the Dark
Disciples. Fred said, “I think that guy wants to talk
to you.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz looked to the left,
seeing that black guy rolling down the passenger side
window of the U-haul truck, and she heard him shout,
“Go park by those cars down there!”

Disengaging the ignition of her cherished

convertible Mustang, she took mind’s physical hold of
her car’s freed keys. Still being able to see to that
last drop of dark sunshine, she promptly looked into
the rearview mirror to catch this last drop of that
young sun, and judgingly checked how she looked for
her devil-looking black master. To that of mirror’s
telling, she noticed the ‘forgot about ponytails,
smiled that of a proud, white smile from seeing how
sweet she looked, took hold of her English-made, $500
pocketbook, and then opened the driver side door of
her cherished Mustang. Naturally, Fred opened the
passenger door and exited from his fiancée’s auto.
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; waited for #24
of wing ‘Blue and #25 of wing ‘Blue, to stand next to
him. And whence they of Negro skin did so stand close
as trio in that of soft snow, they walked abreast to
make way to the rear, screened porch of that Victorian
house. In so being that of a good distance from her
pimp-dressed’, devil-looking black master; she espied
his long-to-knee fur coat and that pimp hat of his. In
the dark, artificial light pouring out from all the
curtained windows of that Victorian house, except for
two first floor big windows that were not curtained,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz noted to mind that her devil-
looking black master did not even bother to look at
her. And so, she hurried forward over wild crabgrass
covered with snow, and spoke fast to her beloved
fiancée, without even looking at him, “Come on, Fred!”
She heard a dog barking. And she did so as she double-
timed her high heel, platform combat boots over wild
crabgrass and strong grass laden with five inches of
snow, to make attempt to catch-up to her devil-looking
black master dressed--like a pimp. Subconsciously,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, hearing a dog barking, noted
that she could not see any other houses, all she saw
in the dark was winter trees sleeping with snow
blankets, wild growth beneath those snow-laden trees
sleeping, a big red-clapped barn with stacks of
firewood up against that barn, a big garage, and that
shadowy barbwire fence all around the property that
she sensed her devil-looking black master owned. She
heard a dog barking. Then, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz did
not even know that she grudgingly puffed with
subconscious pride, seeing those beautiful, Victorian
windows that she sensed her devil-looking black master
owned.
Swiftly following her long-to-knee, mink-furred,
devil-looking black master, a floppy, pale-yellow pimp
hat to his afro brow, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz briefly
recalled to mind of how her devil-looking black master
had rested his thick, totally hard, thickly vein-
laden, and very long black penis up inside her little,
puffed out, muscle-rippled belly; thicker at the four
inch long base and twelve inches longer to that four
inch base, and what no other black man or black boy
had ever pained her in that way before; not more than
ten hours ago. Thinking Miss Patricia Olkeweitz of
rolling green acres, whilst seeing curtained and two
non-curtained windows lit of unseen lamps--this of
what she had come to be allowed to learn... “Fuck, he
tore me into another pussy, just from one stroke.”
Fred; surprised how fast his fiancée ran through
soft snow, jogged through ankle-deep snow in catching
up to his fiancée, his sneakers, starting to drench
from that cold snow.
“Patty, we don’t have to run, do we?”
“Come on, we’re almost there!”

A fast moment later, he quickly walked abreast

with this his thinking girl. Both of them blew
condensation from their mouths because of the freezing
air and it looked as to snow again in the dark.
Walking on a cement sidewalk cleared of snow, Fred
stomped his sneaker-covered feet of snow, and to their
following three black men, they both glanced at that
gigantic tarp covered over with snow, this stretching
tarp, covering that of a cement swimming pool, to add,
that of a snow-blanketed, gigantic red-bricked
barbecue pit, lay somewhat near that tarp-covered
cement swimming pool. Soon, they of being engaged to
marry this June; stepped up five, cemented red-bricked
steps cleared of snow, a strong light coming from the
screen porch, helping their eyes body movements.
Naturally, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz boldly lead her
beloved fiancée up these five steps, and she opened
that of a brand-new screen door, walked into the
lighted, screened porch, noticed outdoor patio
furniture, handed the screen door to her beloved
fiancée, and then waited as her devil-looking black
master opened the back door of this white painted,
rather old Victorian house. With that heavy, solid
back door being opened from that of a fitted key, she
soon eyed of her devil-looking black master pulling
out a long skeleton key from the right pocket of his
long-to-knee, mink fur coat, and then unlocked that of
a prison-looking, steel barred door with that skeleton
key. Her dread breathed in being constant, seeing
these well-oiled steel bars being opened wide, and
just as much, her dread of having her devil-looking
black master painfully slamming hard his huge, more
than thick, vein-laden black penis all the way inside
her little, puffed out, muscle-rippled belly. Once
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and Fred were bodily inside
this old Victorian’; bodily trapped a better word for
it; with that hardwood, back door shut, then that
steel-barred door being shut with a loud ‘clang, good
heat felt, classy tiled linoleum, with each tiled
linoleum block print, showing that of a life-sized,
colorful rooster with that of a white background
beneath their shoe-covered feet, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz quickly sensed that she moved in being
inside that of a fluorescent-lighted, more than large
kitchen. But the strange thing about it--this large
kitchen had no inside walls, to separate it from
natural living room and dining room, and showed as
having two of what usually holds to that of kitchen’s
amenities. That is, two oven stoves, two
refrigerators, two dishwashers, ten oaken cupboards,
two stainless steel sinks--that held garbage disposal,
a grand, un-curtained window above each of those
stainless steel sinks--that of a big cupboard beneath
those two stainless steel sinks, and six, white
painted shelves holding all type of kitchen stuff,
lined the small red clay tiled walls telling of
lighted kitchen. Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
years ago, had hired a contractor to tear out all the
inside walls of the first floor and place heavy, solid
wooden beams in its stead to support the second floor.
This huge, one room living room with that of
oversized, nicely curtained, Victorian windows all
around it; a sizeable, fluorescent-lighted kitchen
with no separating, inside walls to that spacious
living room, had that of a tightly planked, Lebanese
hardwood floor goodly buffeted gleaming blond. And
such of what she of rolling green acres sweepingly
eyed of, noticing two, small high ceiling chandeliers
giving bright white light to this living room, with
that of 5, heavy brass lamps resting to here and there
well-carved end tables--this living room, to her,
looked as one big mess. To the seeing, severe left of
her, there lay grand, rubber sole catching, hardwood
stairs that obviously led straight up to the second
floor. To the forward, far left corner, this, from
where that Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and Fred stood in
being wordless, there lay an expensive-looking, hi-fi
stereo system, and to that area, thin black marble
shelves held well to the richly oaken paneled walls,
these shelves, holding albums, eight-track tapes and
the new thing, CD’s. To the immediate right of that
eye-catching stereo system, with black marble shelves
holding waiting music to the background, there lay
that of a wet bar with six, brand-new, posh black
leather cushioned stools before that wet bar having a
clean mirror to oaken, paneled wall--this mirror,
showing who sat before this wet bar. To the right of
this colorful, black leather wet bar, about ten paces
away, there lay that of a huge and masterful, red-
bricked fireplace that blazed high flame a-crackling
fresh corded hardwood. Above that red-bricked
fireplace pouring out needed warmth, there showed the
mounted heads of three fully antlered stags mounted to
that of an oaken paneled wall, also, mounted to this
oaken paneled wall, stuffed-and-treated rainbow lake
trout, could be seen above this old fireplace--that
gave good spinal brick to this Victorian house.
Further to the right of this magnificently built
fireplace, about ten paces, there lay a thirty-six
inch color TV--as this TV rested on that of a solid
block of polished oak, and forming that of a reversed
L around this TV--that of two, Italian tan leather
couches, big enough for ten people to sit on. To the
middle, right side of this one room living room; a
kitchen without inside walls to that living room,
there lay three, big mattresses on the hardwood floor,
clean pink pillowcase pillows, literally covering
these 3 mattresses resting atop a hardwood floor. Near
these three mattresses covered with pink pillowcase
pillows, there rested two, gigantic dining room tables
more than heavy. The fat legs of these dining room
tables, had been charmingly carved by the finest wood
master seventeen years ago, and just as naturally, or
not so naturally to that unknowing poor man’s
pocketbook, these dining room tables had that of a
dozen, leather-backing, white-oak dining room chairs
around each of these immense, heavy dining room
tables. Intermittently, fuel saving and always in
style to those who know, radiator grills lined with
the oak paneled walls, and just as much, radiator
grills held all throughout this huge Victorian house
gracing grand windows. To the near, outer center of
this first floor living room, a kitchen holding inside
walls naught--that of a dozen beanbag seats lay in
that of an uneven circle, newspapers, magazines and
empty, convenient store coffee cups, all around these
twelve, beanbag seats made for adults. And to the very
center of these twelve beanbag seats, rested that of a
large, heavy oaken desk looking as the desk of the
Oval Office. This Oval Office-looking desk, had that
of two office leather cushioned chairs, placed to the
opposite sides of this magnificent desk. Now, to say
of, atop this Oval Office-looking desk well polished
and shining gleam of mighty oak, said that of two
separate piles of leather-bound ledgers, a computer
screen with keyboard before that computer screen,
three old-fashioned telephones and a receiving credit
card gadget to make money from American slaves. Slaves
that had been unwittingly funneled up the pipeline.
And to say right of these two, separate piles of
leather-bound ledgers, each ledger separately
represented that of a slave for Richard the Negro; #23
of wing ‘Blue. Upstairs--that is, the second floor of
this old, renovated Victorian’, there held that of
four goodly-sized bedrooms with white shag carpet
covering the hardwood floor, two adult bunk beds to a
bedroom, two mirror bureau dressers to a bedroom, one
desk and good chair for that desk, and a big closet,
held to each of these four bedrooms rather large and
airy. Also to the second floor--that of a larger
master bedroom holding one, king size bed and other
costly furniture goodly spaced around that king size
bed. And this master bedroom is where Richard the
Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; slept with heavy door
locked, a steel door behind that heavy door, locked
also. To say more of this second floor, further down
the white carpeted, sizeable hallway of this second
floor, said that of a roomy bathroom with bureau,
clean tub, faucet and functional sauna to that
bathroom. The high ceiling attic of this spacious,
enormous Victorian house--that showed of grandest
windows, did so hold that of sixteen, adult bunk beds,
one huge closet, three mirror dresser bureaus, two
desks with a chair in front of these two desks, one
tan leather couch, and radiator grills intermittently
lined the thick walls of this high ceiling attic. To
the red-bricked walled, cement basement, the cement
floor of this basement, covered over in that of hard
black carpet, there lay costly exercise equipment with
mirrors to see oneself exercising sweating muscle.
Also to this red-bricked walled, cement basement, the
cement floor of this basement, covered over in that of
hard black carpet, there said that of a black marbled
Jacuzzi, clean sauna, steam bath, two industrial
washers to wash clothes, with two dryers to dry
clothes, and last but not least, an open stall shower
that could bathe five people at a time, and this, all
held well to this clean basement. Of course radiator
grills lined the red-bricked walls of this orderly
basement. To one of the corners of this red-bricked
walled, cement basement, the cement floor of this
basement, covered in that of hard black carpet, there
held that of a stout, wooden planked structure looking
as an oversized doghouse. And inside this oversized
doghouse, held that of two, heavy Medieval-looking
chains, looped through two cutout holes in the back of
the planked structure, and these chains that were
attached to the red-bricked wall, were to bound slaves
with. As said, to nervously breathing, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, the large living room, said as first floor
of this old Victorian house, looked as one big mess.
The two, large and heavy, expensive-looking dining
room tables, had at least a dozen empty pizza boxes
atop of these tables, with empty and half full barrels
of Kentucky fried chicken, resting alongside those
empty pizza boxes. Glass ashtrays overflowed with
cigarette butts, smoked cigars, and marijuana roaches.
Three metal trashcans showed as being stuffed to the
gills with empty beer bottles, and just as much, empty
bottles of whisky and empty bottles of French
champagne. And those 3, big mattresses on the tightly
planked, Lebanese hardwood floor goodly buffeted,
mattresses--that said covered with clean pink
pillowcase pillows, guessingly said of past, obvious
orgy. Because, whenever Richard the Negro; #23 of wing
‘Blue; went to party and fetch that of a new, broken
in slave, such as Miss Patricia Olkeweitz of rolling
green acres, and doing so at fat Mike White’s white
mansion, his twenty-four slaves and black-skinned #26
of wing ‘Blue, #27 of wing ‘Blue, #28 of wing ‘Blue,
and #29 of wing ‘Blue, did so have their own
booze/drug sex party. #24 of wing ‘Blue, #25 of wing
‘Blue, #26 of wing ‘Blue, #27 of wing ‘Blue, #28 of
wing ‘Blue, and #29 of wing ‘Blue, had been recruited
by fat Mike White; #1 of wing ‘Blue; for one reason.
And that reason said because these six, Negro-American
males breathed in life as being innately criminal,
and, because they had grossly huge penises almost as
thick and long as Richard the Negro’s; #23 of wing
‘Blue; sixteen and one-quarter inches, this, so as to
constantly and methodically pain their twenty-four
slaves to grunting submission. You know--like, ‘right
there! For their hard, thickly vein-laden, very thick
and very long black penises, said as being more of an
addictive punishment than pleasure to these slaves.
And the new, broken in slaves that screamed on the top
of their lungs from being painfully raped by #23, #24,
#25, #26, #27, #28, and #29 of wing ‘Blue, and the
veteran slaves that had been pained all the way by
those same black males for the last twenty months;
some longer’; now methodically moaned quietly aloud
from their huffing chest, from that addictive pain so
mindlessly felt. And thus to that addictive pain so
mindlessly felt, such of that, soon made all of these
slaves lower bellies looking as some curved up, huge
banana said stuffed up their lower, puffed out,
muscle-rippled belly. No matter how hard they
exercised and dieted, they just could not get their
lower tummies flat and runway model-looking--that up
curved banana-look would just not go away. Debbie.
Sonja. To say right of my witness, these maturely-
bodied girls knew it was from having ‘big black cocks,
up in them nearly everyday. And they of all that’
turned this Victorian house into a madhouse. Fred,
sweepingly seeing this mess, fully smiled from that of
an obvious, last night party, it of such brought out
the Viking in him. What he breathed in really smiling
about though, said in the seeing of at least a dozen
beautiful young women. They were just doll. To say in
truth’s better, they of beauty first glance seen were
lounging all over the place, but as that skinny black
guy with the long mink fur coat walked forward and
further into the place, kicking back an empty beer
bottle on the hardwood floor while shouting, “What the
fuck is this!” all of these young women rushed to the
oak-paneled wall--that held that of a red-bricked
fireplace, and faced their cloth-covered backs to that
wall and lined up in that of a straight line--as if,
as if they had done so before, and humbly they bowed
their heads in looking down at that of a hardwood
floor. A couple of these pretty women were actually
trembling. Fred thought such strange, but Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz knew that these pretty girls were
her black master’s slaves. Each of these pretty women
were dressed the same, this, in the showing of gray
cotton sweatpants, white cotton T-shirt, white cotton
socks, and white tennis shoes. To explain this of
their simple clothing, said as for easy washing and
drying’s sort. Fred stood where he breathed as,
standing next to his fiancée that had her dark,
golden-brown hair done up in bouncy ponytails, and
both he and she watched as that thin black man wearing
that of a flaring mink fur coat, pimp hat to his head,
walk directly toward this line of fearful, head bowed
Caucasian flesh. Once within arms reach, he of pimp
hat and mink fur coat, viciously grabbed the loose and
tatty, uncombed blonde hair of one of these pretty
women with the both of his black hands, pink-white
palms, to those black hands his.
“Aww!” This pretty white slave screamed from her
tough blonde hair being pulled in pain, feeling
herself being pulled to her forward left, and then
being painfully swung around fast in that of a full
circle. Then, her devil-looking black master released
that painful grasping to her blonde hair and she
tumbled violently to the hardwood floor. It felt as
she sprained her right elbow, this, in her lying
sideways on the hard floor. She of being slave to the
black man, quickly raised herself to her right buttock
cheek, her right hand, gingerly supporting the main of
her body, and then rubbed her right elbow with the
palm of her left hand. She of feeling pain, eyed of
her devil-looking black master approaching, the look
of killing her in his black eyes, looking as Devil
himself.
“No, please, master! I. I didn’t do anything.”
She of blue eyes cringed in that of total fear.
“Don’t. Don’t hit me. Please. O’ God. O’ God.” She lay
to her right side and curled up on the hardwood floor.
“Hey!” It said Fred coming out of his mental
shock. “Leave her alone!”
“Fred,” his fiancée whispered, for reason.
“What da’ fuck!?” Richard the Negro; #23 of wing
‘Blue; turned as some devil-looking madman to look at
Fred. “Oh, it’s Freddy with the little heady!” And he
of looking totally mad and looking as Devil himself,
walked toward Fred with the expression of killing
someone. “...What’s you gonna’ do, white boy? I’ll put
you on your back and feed your little Freddy to my
dog!” At that moment, street-dressed’, #26 of wing
‘Blue, street-dressed’, #27 of wing ‘Blue, street-
dressed’, #28 of wing ‘Blue, and street-dressed’, #29
of wing ‘Blue, descended the rubber sole catching,
wooden stairs of this Victorian madhouse. Fred made
stand to defend himself and once within striking
distance, thinking he this black madman looking as
Devil himself, Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
reached into the left pocket of a long-to-knee, mink
fur coat that draped to his five-foot, nine inch thin
body and pulled out a loosely rolled, fat marijuana
cigarette. “...Here ya’ go, Freddy. Light that shit
up. That be good Hawaiian, man. This party place,
Freddy. We hang loose here my place.”
Fred took left hand’s reaching hold of this
loosely rolled, fat marijuana cigarette, fully smiled
from hearing ‘party, and said cheerfully to that black
guy dressed before him as pimp, “Hey, thanks a lot.
She ain’t hurt is she?”
“Naw. Freddy, you got big dick?”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz looked at her beloved
fiancée and felt unselfish pity for him, seeing his
seeking smile to escape his face gone embarrassed. And
she thought in this seeing of the man she said to
marry, “He’s beautiful.” Then, she heard from her
devil-looking black master--that had that of a grossly
huge black penis, when erect, sixteen and one-quarter
inches long, the head of that thick, vein-laden black
penis, almost the size of a small woman’s clenched
fist, and just as much, the first four to six inches
of her black master’s thickly veined muscled base,
when fully erect and bending up a little in the
middle, showed to her past witnessing eyes--as being
almost as thick and round as her beloved fiancée’s
resting forearm. Not knowing she of rolling green
acres--that #23 of wing ‘Blue, had been specifically
recruited by fat Mike White; #1 of wing ‘Blue; because
of having those thick, sixteen and one-quarter, very
long inches.
“Go ahead, man, light joint. These girls love ta’
party, Freddy, den’ suck dick. Patty love ta’ party,
too. She loves ta’ party all da’ time.”
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; once saying
that, turned around and walked to the angled left, and
then walked forward for about five striding paces. To
those five paces, he flung off his mink fur coat and
pimp hat, threw the articles on the hardwood floor;
where that two of his white slaves rushed over to pick
up this mink fur coat and pimp hat and put these
articles away for him; and to all that’, he of #23 of
wing ‘Blue, noticed #24, #25, #26, #27, #28, and #29
of wing ‘Blue, sitting on his two, Italian tan leather
couches, watching his TV. “...Hey, you guys! Do me a
favor. Go out and put Patty’s stuff in the barn.” And
this of six, male Negro-Americans, in being told what
to do, did rise to do so. Fred and Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, still standing with their coat-covered
backs to that of a steel-barred door, and breathing
within this huge kitchen lighted by fluorescent
lighting, watched as six, street-dressed’ black guys
walk to that of a sliding closet to gain of their
winter coats. As that happened, Richard the Negro; #23
of wing ‘Blue; took the paces to stand at the bottom
of stairs, and then shout up those stairs, “Henry!
It’s book time!”
Within that of thirteen to fifteen seconds; Fred
and Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, hearing muffled voices
emanating from the second floor; both she and he,
politely stepped to the right to let the first,
street-dressed’ Negro-American male go through the
process of opening that of a steel-barred door, this,
as five, street-dressed’ Negro-American males, soon
came up behind him. To this passing procession of six,
street-dressed’ Negro-American males, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz; lip-smiling the raised flesh of
nervousness; glanced down at soft and faded hard blue
jeans--that seemed to be unnaturally stuffed at the
private area. And she of rolling green acres, and just
as much, being that of a former, interracial, Midwest
porno actress, fully smiled that of a fresh, white
smile and suggestively nodded at one ugly of gorilla
face black man--that showed the fat outline to soft
cotton denim--that of a soft, grossly huge penis head
resting to the middle of his cloth-covered, top left
thigh. And he of ugly gorilla face, nodded fast return
to fresh suggestion, knowing this #27 of wing ‘Blue--
that he could rape this skinny girl with her hair done
up in ponytails, with his fourteen and one-quarter
inches, anytime that he felt as to do so. Rape her
without worry, because she white slave to the black
man. To all this subliminally sent messages, Fred
knowing naught, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz fuzzily
thought of what naughty Suzy Q had recently done in
the last five to seven weeks, and that said as having
fast group sex with three to five teenaged black boys,
nearly every single late afternoon inside her nice
apartment. And these black, teenaged boys that sold
small bags of almost pure cocaine; most of them
fifteen to sixteen years of age; walked two miles to
do it with that older woman looking skinny with ‘nice
tits, called Patty. And sometimes, while her beloved
fiancée said working, she had slow hand sex with that
of one or two black guys, on the very same bed that
she and her beloved fiancée slept on, then, after
supper, teenaged black boys and black guys came over
her place ‘to party. And nearly every night she had
said, “Fred, darling, I’ll be working late, tonight,”
to her beloved fiancée. Then, she would rendezvous
with two of her most favorite, teenaged black boys in
her night-shadowed car, drive to the expressway, and
party with black, porno guys that lived in Chicago.
Thinking of what she now eyed of in that of a fast
glance, she thought to the breath of her now, “Hmm.
Did you see the size of that one’? He’ll probably fuck
me later. And I’ll betcha’ he’s got plenty of coke...”
Seconds had not yet passed to this pure evil
thought of hers, when, eight, pretty Caucasian-
American slaves, three, pretty Vietnamese-American
slaves, and one sultry, but pretty Japanese-American
slave, came prancing down the safe stairs in different
manners whilst gabbing to one another in one form or
another. All of them, dressed in that of gray cotton
sweatpants, white cotton T-shirt, white cotton socks,
and white tennis shoes, and they too lined up to that
past formed, uneven line of head bowed slaves. Of this
strange occurrence right outside of Morris, Illinois,
the wind blowing in starting blizzard, it so seemed to
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and Fred--that they of
alluring, young flesh had done this’ more than once.
Following these eight, pretty Caucasian-American
slaves, three pretty Vietnamese-American slaves, and
one sultry, but pretty Japanese-American slave, showed
that of a pink silk-robed, sandal-footed, Caucasian-
American male having that of long-to-shoulder fine
black hair. This slender white man; his height, about
five-foot ten’, showed to eye as having deep-red
lipstick on his normal looking lips, eyeliner around
his magnectic eyes of blue, fake eyelashes, and girly
powder makeup showed as being all over his beautiful
face that looked as moving woman, because--that’s what
he wanted to be, a woman. And with raised left hand
dangling in that way and scrawny, silky-looking
shoulders swaying, he moved as that of a flaming
faggot. This homosexual’s name, Henry, and he moved in
life as being the one and only friend Richard the
Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; had. They--that is Henry and
Richard, had went to the same high school together in
Chicago, and in the gym’s locker-room of that
overcrowded high school, no one seeing, said as being
the first time Henry swiftly pulled Richard’s gray
cotton gym shorts down to Richard’s ankles and
proceeded to give Richard oral sex, which, over a
couple of weeks, turned to that of wanted, painful
anal sex for high school Henry.
“Hi, darling!” Henry the flaming faggot
cheerfully said to his one and only friend and did so
as he stepped onto the hardwood floor of the living
room. “The books are all ready for you, my little
baby, you.”
“Stop calling me baby!”
“Oh, honey, now be like that. Remember what I
told you? It just ages you. Have a glass of wine.
Chill. I bought some hard to get Italian for you.
Who’s this?” Henry the flaming faggot; from a distance
of about fifteen paces, now breathed in looking
directly at Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and Fred. And said
he of being a flaming faggot, “...O’ she’s a cutesy-
pie, isn’t she. You’re always adding good stuff to
your stable, baby, aren’t you. Now, I know she’s
broken in. But is he?”
Fred subconsciously began to figure out just what
the hell was going on, consciously, however, he of
rolling green acres more than knew that his sweet and
innocent high school sweetheart and now so moving in
life as being his fiancée, said in no way what he
subconsciously thought she might be, ‘a nigger lover.
As this of them breathing feminine, sired superiority
in being that’, many, few, none...? Caucasian-American
males do so hate, for reason. Secretly or otherwise,
what’s the difference? I say from my all white world
that Debbie holds me to, for her sired clitoris for
reason, I do so dare. Debbie, pink rose petals to
knee, we shall see...
“That be Freddy with the little heady. Flare that
joint up, Freddy! That’s good Hawaiian, man! Patty,
bring your boyfriend and come sit on these beanbags!
Make yourself at home! Freddy, there’s some beer in
the ‘fridge! Champagne, if you like! If you gotta’ use
the bathroom, its upstairs! Use that closet over there
for your coats!” Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
always talked politely and civil when his one and only
friend; Henry the flaming faggot; breathed in being
near about. And Henry the flaming faggot sweetly
reprimanded his one and only friend, by saying,
“Darling, you don’t have to shout.”
“Would you stop calling me that! O’ man, I don’t
need this shit today.”
 “Patty,” Fred whispered. “What the fuck is this
place?”
“Its okay, Fred, let’s take our coats off, it’s
warm in here.”
Fred and his fiancée walked to the far right of
this oversized living room, so as to put away their
winter coats, and once Fred slid back the sliding
door--that obviously said as being that of a closet
behind it, they both breathed in being slightly amazed
in seeing how big this closet really was. This, in the
seeing of two, strong hanger poles, draping at least
three dozen coats, and dozens of shoes and winter
boots, showed as being neatly placed to the closet’s
tightly planked, hardwood floor. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, still having her dark, golden-brown hair
done up in that of cute ponytails, and dressed in that
of a short-sleeved, low-neck black cotton miniskirt,
sheer silk nylons running tight and snug up her
skinny, yet shapely legs, high heel, platform combat
boots to her near perfect feet--that of a knotted,
soft Rhine gold chain graced to her slim, long
matching neck, made known to her street-dressed’,
beloved fiancée, “Fred, honey, go over and get me a
beer. I’m going to sit on one of those beanbags. My.”
She was about to say ‘my pussy feels a little sore.
Actually, her loose, rather dry vagina felt a little
ginger way up inside because of her black master’s
single, sixteen and one-quarter inch, more than hard
thick stroke, nine to ten hours ago. “...I feel a
little tired.”
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; happily
walked to the center of this his large living room,
knowing that he had things working, and then sat on
that of a deeply leather cushioned office chair--that
had controlling, steel ball marbled rollers to move
this chair around. What lay before Richard the Negro;
#23 of wing ‘Blue; now seated to cushioned office
chair--that of a majestic desk, looking as the desk of
the Oval Office, and atop this mighty desk, said that
of a computer screen with keyboard before that
computer screen, also, three old-fashioned telephones
lay near center of this desk. And that of a receiving
credit card gadget to make money from the slaves of
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue, lay near that
computer screen. Also on that large desk neatly
cluttered, there lay two piles of leather-bound
ledgers. About fifteen paces from his devil-looking
eyes looking forward; seated eyes of black, there
breathed that line of slaves with their pretty chins
lightly bowed. Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
fully smiled, this, from seeing through the space of a
couple of his head bowed slaves--that red-bricked
fireplace, blazing good hardwood crackling and
snapping just the way he wanted it to. Richard the
Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; scanned his devil-looking
black eyes slightly to the right and stared at one of
his Vietnamese-American slaves. She looked up and
caught her devil-looking black master looking at her.
To her black master’s stare of her, she smiled that of
a white smile of pride and gently threw her Oriental
chin looking Caucasian around as she beauty first
glance seen, and then lowered her pretty Mongol eyes
in that flowery way to look at the hardwood floor. She
of this his broken in, Vietnamese-American slave, said
as being that of a slave for the last three and a-half
months. This Vietnamese-American slave, held her
petite, straight of healthy body in being five-foot,
one-quarter inches in height and weighing at the most,
ninety pounds. She of this his broken in, Vietnamese-
American slave for the last three and a-half months,
moved in life as being very slender of rib with full,
cupping, vibrant breasts that held sensitive, modern
nipples well cared for in that American way. She of
his broken in, Vietnamese-American slave for the last
three and a-half months, sired well of thin waist and
great looking, creamy-white buttock cheeks; from that
little bit of French blood in her. She of his broken
in, Vietnamese-American slave for the last three and
a-half months, a mere twenty years-old and graced she
that of shoulder length, pure black hair silky fine.
And her American-born, Chicago story, much as Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz’s American-born, rolling green
acres story. Except--that five-foot and one-quarter
inch, Vietnamese-American twenty-year-old female that
graced great looking, creamy white buttock cheeks,
having a little bit of French blood in her, had been
married to that of a Vietnamese-born immigrant whilst
she unwittingly breathed in being funneled up the Dark
Disciples pipeline. And during that funneling’ so
carefully planned by the lord and master of the Dark
Disciples, this, right in the middle of her
interracial, Midwest porno career, her Vietnamese-born
husband; knowing naught she porno actress doing only
black guys and not knowing of that 16-year-old black
boy on the side plowing her hard once a week; had been
murdered by wing ‘Black of the Dark Disciples.
Murdered, because of him not paying off that huge
gambling debt, to fat Mike White; #1 of wing ‘Blue.
And now, this pretty Vietnamese-American, broken in
slave, breathed in life as paying that gambling debt
off, in so being that of a high-priced call girl. She,
of being Vietnamese-American slave, basically the same
story as the other slaves, this, in the saying of go-
go bar, money, almost pure cocaine, interracial porn,
money, almost pure cocaine, go-go bar, gambling,
money, almost pure cocaine, and then that of being a
call girl loving almost pure cocaine and having sex
with black men that gave her almost pure cocaine,
nearly everyday. Knowing all about this Victorian
house, he of being black master to this Victorian
house; #23 of wing ‘Blue; spoke to this his broken in,
Vietnamese-American slave.
“Ku, get a pillow and get under the desk.” And
she of being that of a broken in Vietnamese-American
slave, swiftly walked to where pink pillowcase pillows
lay to that of three, big mattresses. Now, to say of
this particular American slavery that fell under
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; 6% of his slaves
made escape from being held as enslaved call girls. Of
this 6% making escape, 99% were tracked down by the
Negro-American male members of wing ‘Black; the
merciless killing wing of the Dark Disciples; and that
1% that did escape to faraway, Midwest freedom, faded
into quiet obscurity. Perhaps even marrying you’, I
say from my all white world that Debbie holds me to.
Debbie. Sonja. I know. Of the runaways so caught, they
of being hunted down and found, would be chained in
that of a dungeon-looking place, kept alive until the
next interracial, Midwest porno actress of the three,
Adult World Productions said ready for the next stage
of that of a funneling, planned pipeline, then, she of
being chained in that of a dungeon-looking place,
would be cut of throat, and cut of throat to show that
next interracial, Midwest porno actress, what would
happen to slaves trying to ‘run for it. As we will
remember from DEBBIE’S MEETINGS, Book Three, this...
“...Come on,” she heard forty-odd minutes later.
“Let’s play da’ craps some more.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, her little tummy nice n’
full from eating fried chicken, fresh tomato and
French fries, scooped up her colorful chips whilst
thinking, “This party’s great,” and followed a
skinhead black man to gamble some more.
Two hours later, a steel door came to be clanged
shut behind Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and a skinhead
black man called, Derrick, and she of cute face
perfume powdered, and he of ugly black face, now
breathed in being at the bottom of wide and shadowy,
cement basement steps near free of dust; shadowy steps
that lead up to a kitchen fit for a millionaire.
Skinhead Derrick roughly grabbed Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz’s shoulder length, silky and sassy, dark
golden-brown hair with his left hand and screamed at
that cute face of hers, “Nigger, bitch! You lost
twenty thousand’! How you gonna’ pay us!?” He slapped
her hard with his right hand, his left hand, holding a
handful of her fluffy hair, and unwanted pain came to
be immediately felt by Miss Patricia Olkeweitz. Face
cringing from despair, she whimpered to escape, in
saying, “I’ll. I’ll pay you back. Just, just don’t hit
me, anymore.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt her head
being painfully jerked back by the left hand of a
skinhead black man, and to her Polish-American brown
eyes, he looked as some evil beast gone mad--that evil
black beast, screaming, “That’s right, you fucken’
white ho’! You gonna’ fuck who we say ta’ fuck!
Right!?” and he gripped her hair tighter.
 “Ohaww! Yes. Yes, I’ll fuck whoever you say to.
To fuck. Ow! Why? Why are, you, doing, this. To me?
Ohwwaaw!”
“Because you nigger ho’ now, bitch!”
The skinhead, black beast released his shaking
hold to Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s silky, dark golden-
brown hair and slapped her as hard as he could with
his right hand. And Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
immediately fell down in facing a cement floor. Crying
she of rolling green acres, “Please. Please. Don’t hit
me. Me anymore. I’ll fuck who you say. Please.”
Roughly grabbing Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s fine
hair, the skinhead, black beast forced her to stand.
“Owahh!” She yelled from pain. Releasing her hair, she
heard from the black beast. “Yeah! You gonna’ live
with Richard ‘til you ho’ that twenty thousand’ off,
right?”
She sniffled, “Yes.”
“Bitch, he your master now! Say it! He your
master now!”
“He my master, now.”
“Yeah, and you think you had big nigger dick
before. He gonna’ fuck da’ shit outta’ you. Now get
upstairs and take ah’ fucken bath! Put plenty of dat’
perfume shit on! And make sure you dig up your white
ass and clean it with girly soap! Wash out that pussy,
too, bitch! Richard like his nigger hos’ fresh...!”
Forty-odd minutes later, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz;
hearing no black music, nervously stood in that of a
chandelier, white marble-decked ballroom that now held
less of Negro-American males, Caucasian-American
females, Hispanic-American females, Mongol-American
females and those three Negro-American females that
looked white. She of now breathing in light terror and
in so having on fresh makeup, red lipstick making her
look absolutely doll, French perfume past dabbed
between her Cleopatra-sized breasts and just as much,
past splashed of French perfume onto her milk white
thighs, very clean of loose vagina and rather loose
anus, her dark, golden-brown silky hair, blow-dried
and looking O’ so glossy healthy, knew naught that all
these Negro-American males standing in the ballroom,
were part of fat Mike White’s wing ‘Blue, which meant
that they were part of the Dark Disciples. And those
twelve, remaining girls gracing the sired superiority
of the Caucasian race and that what she eyed of in
sweeping glance, seemed to be as terrorized and
nervous as she was. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz knew that
eight of these twelve pretty white girls were porno
actresses for Adult World Productions and they all
seemed to silently communicate to one another that
they were in some kind of danger. Now, the reason that
these twelve, pretty white girls had the look of
terror, was because they had been savagely pulled of
hair and viscously slapped in different parts of fat
Mike White’s white mansion. So, they of proverbially
being ‘nigger lovers, and being that’ whilst having
Caucasian-American boyfriends, Caucasian-American
fiancées, and two of them actually being married to
Caucasian-Americans, and that proverbial ‘nigger
lover, definitely went for Miss Patricia Olkeweitz,
they of being that’, had been funneled to the next
stage of the Dark Disciples pipeline. Seeing these
pretty white girls frightened, sheep-looking faces,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz heard from skinhead Derrick...
“It’s, okay. You can sniff a line’.”
“For...For free?” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz beamed
brightly at skinhead Derrick and her mind felt safer
because of his softer tone of voice, his mean-looking,
black brow, looking somewhat normal.
“Ho’, just do da’ line’.”
And she kept snorting until she was forced to
stop. Skinhead Derrick, saying, “Jesus, you fucken’
junkie, don’t croak on us yet. Richard gotta’ make
money off dat’ white ass of yours.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz may have been drunk from
drinking French champagne and very high on almost pure
cocaine, but she understood what she now was, a whore.
A white slave for the black man. And Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz hated Negro-Americans by the measure of six
inches. “...Okay, upstairs, ho’!”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz looked at the white
marble stairs that led to an opulent landing. To the
landing’s banister, she eyed of the bare torso of a
thin black man that she had never seen before, a
naked, thin black man that had a mean expression on
his ugly, black face. Seeing skinhead Derrick cup his
black hands to his repulsive mouth, she heard him yell
up to that obvious, naked black man. “Yo’, Richard!
Ya’ ho’ is ready!” Lowering hands, skinhead Derrick
turned to look at Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, and said he
of the Negro, “Go on, bitch. Get your white ass up
there.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz glanced around the
ballroom, feeling humiliated, but it seemed that all
these black men acted as if this was the way to speak
to white women. Meanwhile, downstairs’ in the
basement, twenty-eight Negro-Americans were gambling
big time, smoking marijuana, drinking, laughing--like
jackasses, and snorting almost pure cocaine. The party
for them, just getting started. These 28 Negro-
Americans were not part of the Dark Disciples but,
they of Negro skin had a lot of money, and they
couldn’t wait to get their black, pink-white palms on
those fresh, party girls--that liked ‘big black dick,
upstairs. Because at that moment, they of Negro skin
were not standing next to beautiful girls. They, of
Negro skin, knew that those beautiful girls were being
separated by their black master; some of them two and
three at a time, and were escorted by their new, black
master to that of separate bedrooms, for them...
And just as much recently read, this... Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz walked down a rich hallway in
following her naked, black master, nervously saying,
“Hi,” to that of two, street-dressed’ Negro-American
males; #24 of wing ‘Blue, and #25 of wing ‘Blue.
Entering the big bedroom that she had performed for
free the night before; not knowing that five thousand
dollars had changed hands to have at her fresh body,
she saw those four black guys still sleeping, heard a
shower still running in the bedroom’s bathroom, and
then glanced at her black master donning flashy red
flaring trousers. And she stared at what she thought
as impossible. “Get dressed,” her black master
whispered. Soon dressed in that of a short-sleeved,
low-neck black cotton miniskirt, sheer silk nylons to
her skinny, yet shapely legs, high heel, platform
combat boots to her near perfect feet--that of a
knotted, soft Rhine gold chain graced to her slim,
long matching neck, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz sheepishly
followed her black master. Moments later, she breathed
in standing at the bottom of wide cement steps, a
steel door facing her and her black master. Richard
the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; pushed a black button
with his right thumb, and within nine to ten seconds
that of a well-dressed Negro-American male, with a
black hood over his head, opened the steel door. This
well-dressed Negro-American male that had opened the
steel door, moved in life as being #8 of wing ‘Black,
and this wing ‘Black, said as being the killing wing
of the Dark Disciples. The first strange thing Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz eyed of--that of two, stark naked,
teenaged white girls, both of these tall, slender
girls, gracing thick dark-brown hair. To all of this,
a pimp-dressed’, Negro-American male; #15 of wing
‘Gold; stood behind these two pretty girls, and he of
being dressed as pimp, said to Richard the Negro; #23
of wing ‘Blue; “Yo’ bro’! That your new ho’!”
“Yeah, she make big money last night. Banging.
She nonstop nigger and love da’ big ones’.”
“Looky here. I’s’ got two’ nigger lovers gonna’
make da’ big bucks, too. Ain’t that right, you white
hos’?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“Master! You white cunt bitches! You call me
master!”
“Yes, master.”
“Yes, master.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz looked at these two naked
girls that were about the same age as her, and noticed
the look of absolute terror on their young faces.
These two, teenaged girls were roughly pushed up wide
cement stairs by their black master and Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz felt her black master severely grab her
right bicep area and force her further into the
gambling den.
“Ow! You’re hurting me!”
 “Shut the fuck up, you fucken’ bitch!” and her
black master slapped the left side of her face as hard
as he could with his right hand. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz would have fell to the black carpeted floor
if not for her black master severly holding her upper
left arm, and she cried, “Oww! Please. Oh, God,
please. Don’t hit me. Anymore. I’ll. I’ll do anything
you want. I’ll. I’ll suck your dick. I love your big
black cock up my ass. Please. Please, fuck me up the
ass.” She of being tender doll, hated pain. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz felt her black master’s painful
grip leading her to one of the crap tables. Standing
at the end of the crap table, she looked down and eyed
of a stark naked, Caucasian female lying on her back
in the center of the crap table, a plastic sheet,
underneath that unmoving, young woman. At first, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz’s Polish-American brown eyes
couldn’t register the nightmare sight before her, and
as she readjusted her confused mind to reality, she
saw that of a red and crusty, thin dry line clear
across the woman’s non-breathing throat. This stark
naked woman looked whiter than usual, and her green
eyes stared blankly whilst she slowly decayed, her
Christ-laden soul, perhaps looking down at this
world’s allowed evilness. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt
her thin body being shaken--like a rag doll by her
black master, who that still painfully held her left
bicep area. Hearing she of rolling green acres, “You
see that white ho’!? She tries ta’ run on us! That’s
what happen to nigger ho’ like you trying to run! We
slice throat ear ta’ ear! And if you go to da’ police,
we find ya’! We find ya’, anywhere! We’ll come right
through your mommy’s door and fuck you up! Then, we
rape and cut your mommy’s throat, sister, or anyone
else! Now, get on your knees and suck my dick! Smile,
bitch. This time, I’m gonna cum’ right up dat’ little
mouth of yours...” Twenty-odd minutes later, five foot
three’, 102 lb., for she had lost a pound of weight
within the last month, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, with
that of slavishly, rubbed around, drying sperm on her
pink-red lips, elfin chin and thin chest, because, she
had just been unemotionally raped halfway up her loose
anus by her black master, and whom that then had
ejaculated inside her mouth, causing her to gag from
that of a thick, molten spray that seemed not to stop,
and so from gagging, let sperm slide down on her slim
pink-red lips, elfin chin and bare chest, proceeded to
dress. So dressed--that of a knotted, soft Rhine gold
chain graced to her slim, long matching neck, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz sheepishly followed her black
master. Halfway up cement steps rather wide and a
little shadowy; Miss Patricia Olkeweitz eyed of three,
stark naked, young women, one of these naked,
American-born women, shining the pretty face of
Vietnam--that of a street-dressed’ black man, behind
those pretty women having no clothes on. She of Suzy Q
knew that these three women worked for Adult World
Productions, and they of pretty flesh had made a lot
of money for Adult World Productions--that was owned
by fat Mike White; #1 of wing ‘Blue of the Dark
Disciples. But what Miss Patricia Olkeweitz didn’t
know, was that these three pretty women were now ready
for the second, funneling stage of fat Mike White’s
wing ‘Blue, and that was that these onetime, party
girls that loved big black penises hurting them down
there and had so worked for Adult World Productions,
would now be call girls all the time in the city of
Chicago and, just as much, call girls for the major
cities and industrial towns of the Midwest. Call girl
all the time for their black master, a member of the
Dark Disciples. Then, they of being worn-out of
vaginal muscle, having slack face and void of mind’s
gay eye, rich customers, saying, ‘do you have another
girl, ‘by chance. Rich customers saying, ‘do you have
another girl, ‘by chance, she’s a little too loose,
‘for me. And they of that not wanted’, would so be
sold on the block. And once sold on the block, nine
times out of ten, these pretty Caucasian-American
girls, Mongol-American girls, too, would eventually
end up doing long stretches of time in jail, or, end
up in that of a hospital for the insane. Not to
mention painfully dying from AIDS--that hard-shelled
animal Debbie had unleashed through General Binnicher,
unto the world, for reason...
 “Yo’, Richard, you taking your new ho’ to your
crib?”
“Yeah, nigger cash ready. Bitch can’t get enough
black dick. She beg for it.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz glanced at the lower
bellies of these three, naked women showing shaven
public hair, and to her Polish-American brown eyes, it
so appeared that these naked females had that of a
huge, breathing black penis ghost in their banana-
curved’ up, lower belly, and she of Suzy Q knew that
her little, lower belly looked that way, too. Her
flexible, curved spine, adding to that ghost look of a
big black penis way up inside her loose vaginal
muscle. Resting that banana-curved up way, for that of
grossly huge black penises puffing to that puffed out
and banana-curved’ up, lower belly.
“Yeah, these three hos’ be ready to sell ass,
too. Look how tight this China girl be. Bitch, turn
your gook ass around!” And the naked, Vietnamese-
American woman did show her little, heart-shaped
bottom to her black master’s friend.
“Yeah, she go good.”
...Once to the chandelier, marble-decked
ballroom, no one around, Richard the Negro; #23 of
wing ‘Blue; snorted a big line of almost pure cocaine,
and Miss Patricia Olkeweitz waited as some trained
animal.
“Go ahead, baby. You can have a line’. Cause you
a good girl, right?”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz now showed one big smile
of immediate worship, absolutely loving the way her
thin black master spoke to her, and felt as to kiss
her black master, and Miss Patricia Olkeweitz always
did what Suzy Q told her to do. Moaning up and softly
wiggling her clean, pink-red tongue into and slightly
beyond thick, unsightly black lips for about eight to
nine seconds, and doing so whilst easily finding her
black master’s thick and very long black penis with
her left hand through that of thin cloth, she timidly
rubbed to what she had easily found. Unbelievably,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt her black master growing
harder and bigger to her rubbing hand--that suddenly
tremble, and she rut. “Hmm,” she mindlessly throated
and stepped back in having a big white smile of
worship, and then sweetly said, “Thank you, darling.
Master. I’ll be a good girl, you’ll see.” She turned,
smiled again, and soon did what she really loved,
this, in the snorting of a big line of almost pure
cocaine. Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ’Blue; taking
hold of a fancy cloth napkin, poured a good amount of
almost pure cocaine to the center of this napkin, and
then said, “If you be good girl, I’s’ give you some,
later.”
This ‘later, music to her American ears, because,
almost pure cocaine is what she of rolling green acres
really loved. And so wanting that of what she really
loved, she cunningly made known to her black master,
“What I want. Is that big black cock stuffed all the
time in my little white cunt. You know, darling.
Master. You’re the biggest I ever had so far. I
couldn’t even think when you were up my ass.”
“Bitch, I only had you halfway up da’ ass. You
just wait ‘till you get that little pussy, pushed open
by my shit. I have you waddling for a week...”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz of rolling green acres
felt immediate fear drip down to her lower, curved
up--like a banana, puffed out lower belly. Suzy Q
liked it like that.

So. This is where Miss Patricia Olkeweitz now

found her little tail snared in, whilst putting her
rabbit fur coat to that of a wooden hanger, and just
as much, along with other funneled up the pipeline,
broken in slaves of wing ‘White, wing ‘Blue, wing
‘Gold, wing ‘Red, wing ‘Yellow, wing ‘Gray, with wing
‘Black, being the killing wing of the Dark Disciples.
And each of these nefarious wings’ of the Dark
Disciples had official members breathing the skin
color of Negro. To say clearly, these wings’ had been
specifically created by the lord and master of the
Dark Disciples, in handling a stage-by-stage,
funneling pipeline. A well-planned funneling pipeline
that made one million dollars a week for the Dark
Disciples, and what comprised entirely of the Dark
Disciples--that of wing ‘White, wing ‘Blue, wing
‘Gold, wing ‘Red, wing ‘Yellow, wing ‘Black, and wing
‘Gray, and each of these nefarious wings of the Dark
Disciples, had official members breathing the skin
color of Negro. And all together in the year 2000 AD,
the Dark Disciples generated $3,000,000 a week from
selling tons of almost pure cocaine, to the major
cities and industrial towns of the Midwest and
Chicago, also, the Dark Disciples made $1,00,000 a
week from selling interracial porno movies to the
major cities and industrial towns of the Midwest and
Chicago, and, they made $1,000,000 a week, from their
legion of go-go bars and lucrative call girl
businesses located in the major cities and industrial
towns of the Midwest and Chicago. Of that $5,000,000
to $6,000,000 a week so generated, the Dark Disciples
handed over to the Chicago Mafia, $1,100,000 a week
for that of entrenched, political protection.
Political protection? What the fuck is that? Not to
mention these Dark Disciples bribing public officials
and low-paid police officers. The U.S., slowly
slipping to that of a Third World country, this, from
their citizens being brainwashed to mix races;
especially Hollywood and TV commercials brainwashing
white women to worship the black man; brainwashing to
buy, go in debt, and be that dog eat dog not caring
for neighbors or the homeless. What? You don’t believe
me? There are millions of people in the U.S. that
don’t have medical insurance, some of them, not even
able to pay for the medical co-pay. And even when they
do have medical insurance, most of them can’t afford
to get sick. Millions of U.S. adult citizens, forced
to work two jobs, they of being brainwashed to think
they live, ‘in the greatest country in the world, not
enjoying life and dying younger than they should, and
much divorce is because of millions and millions of
U.S. adult citizens, just ‘getting by, and living in
misery. Not to mention tens of thousands of homeless
Americans. But what fear the U.S. government worker,
what fear the President of the U.S.A. and that U.S.
Senate keeping U.S. Congress in check down the street,
he, she, and they of the U.S. government worker, has
that socialism you have been brainwashed to hate. I
say to you that have been brainwashed to hate the word
socialist, any person receiving a paycheck from the
government, is a Socialist. Debbie. Sonja. I. I.
“...Hey, Freddy, if you’re getting a beer, can
ya’ get me one!?”
“Please,” Henry the flaming faggot mechanically
corrected his one and only friend, very much wanting
his one and only friend to be that of a gentleman.
“Please! And don’t touch the grass or coke! I
mean that!”

Henry the flaming faggot had sat jovially to the

opposite side of his one and only friend; an Oval
Office-looking desk between them, and while pushing
buttons to turn his computer on, he of wanting to be
woman, said to Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue,
“Darling, I want you to take the time to learn how to
use this computer. Microsoft Word is much easier to
use than these ledgers. You can save files on each
separate girl and bring these files up whenever you
wish. Plus, while you’re on the Internet, looking at
our Website, you can bring up these files while
talking to customers. See. Here’s our Website, right
here.”
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; half-
heartily looked to the forward right in partially
seeing the computer screen, seeing that of a fancy
website splashing the sexy silhouette of a buxomly
female dancing provocatively, reading the pulsating,
pink-colored words of NICE GIRLS ESCORT SERVICE.
Naturally, the sexy silhouette looked as that of a
Caucasian woman, because, nothing sells better than
pretty women, and said he fast to this his impressed
seeing, “That’s your department.”
“Well. Perhaps this weekend. We’re suppose to be
getting two feet of snow. We’ll get a glass of wine
and snuggle round this thing. You’ll see. It’ll be
fun. And once you learn. You can get a computer, too,
and we can work it like that. Now. To these
prehistoric ledgers.” He of wanting to be woman
reached for that of a leather-bound ledger--that lay
atop a pile of the same. Richard the Negro; #23 of
wing ‘Blue; also picked up a leather-bound ledger that
lay on a separate pile of ledgers leather bounded, and
both of these strange fellows opened to Henry’s last
written notation. Notations well written by the
feminine hand of Henry the flaming faggot. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz had confidently approached this
Oval Office-looking desk that they; #23 of wing ‘Blue
and Henry the flaming faggot; sat to. Standing
slightly behind and to the left of her devil-looking
black master, she heard that longhaired, white man
say, ‘two feet of snow. And she did so as she glanced
at two separate piles of leather-bound ledgers,
glanced at a computer screen with other things atop
the big desk, looked over at an uneven, slightly C-
curved line of pretty slaves, glanced at that slender,
Oriental-looking woman with that of a pink pillowcase
pillow in her right hand, and waited she impatiently
for that inevitable break in her black master’s
conversation, before saying, “Ah. Can. May I use the
bathroom?” She didn’t want to say ‘master, aloud with
her beloved fiancée within mayhap earshot, and
fretfully waited for her devil-looking black master to
scold her.
“You don’t have to ask, just go.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz noticed that her devil-
looking black master happily breathed in pulling back
his yellow leather belt, unbuttoning a red button,
zipping down a bronze-colored zipper, raising his
backside so as to pull down flashy red flaring
trousers to his seated ankles, and she of now being
Suzy Q, wanted to stay right where she breathed as, to
once again see if, if her devil-looking black master
was as thick and long as she thought it was. Instead,
seeing that Oriental-looking woman crawling on her
hands and knees, on the hardwood floor with that of a
pink pillowcase pillow grasped in her right hand then,
placing that pink pillowcase pillow almost under the
desk, her devil-looking black master, moving the
deeply cushioned chair that he sat on further back for
about six to eight inches, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
turned around and walked to ascend seen stairs to take
of her toilet. Atop the landing of the second floor,
ten ceiling dome-lights all in a three paced row,
giving eyes needed aid, she of rolling green acres
once again subconsciously puffed with pride, this,
from seeing that of a big hallway very tidy, the floor
of this wide and tall hallway, showing that of soft,
pale-gray shag carpet. And knowing that her devil-
looking black master owned this’, she lip-smiled, and
thought, “It’s not that bad.” Coming to that of a
bedroom’s opened door--that bedroom, having the light
of two heavy lamps, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz naturally
peeked inside of this well lit bedroom and whispered,
“Wow. This is nice.” Lordly walking into this well
lighted, big, airy bedroom--that smelled fresh and
clean, she eyed of two adult bunk beds, the bunk beds
sheets and covers, militarily done. From that, she
eyed of two opulent mirror bureau dressers looking
very heavy of solid wood and nicely carved, with loads
of girly makeup articles atop those mirror dressers
then, she eyed of a big closet with that of costly,
sophisticated dresses draping from two hanger poles,
also, she eyed of costly shoes of many assortment on
the closet’s clean floor made of smooth, blond wood
tightly planked. Approaching one of two sizeable
windows spotlessly clean, she looked outside. Seeing
naught but the black of night, she pressed the side of
her hands to the window and moved her Polish-American
brown eyes inches from this window, in having her
cupped hands blocking out the light of two lamps. She
thought that she eyed the top of night shadowed, snow-
laden winter trees and lightly snow-covered, fallow
fields sleeping everywhere. Instinctively, she knew
that this house she stood inside of, rested to that of
a light bluff, and marvel she from sensing that this
bedroom that she stood in--as being able to see over
night shadowed trees, to that snow cloud horizon gone
dark purple. But, knowing this Victorian house to be
that of a madhouse, seeing that faraway, well lit
house at least two miles away, she physically tested
the window. “How the fuck do you open this, thing?”
She looked at the bottom right corner of this heavy
window, not knowing that this window clear
plastic/glass and bulletproof, and noticed that of a
tumbler lock. Using the bottom of her clenched, right
fist, she lightly banged on this oversized window and
straightaway knew that it of such said as being
unbreakable. If this big window said as being
impossible to break, then, she knew all the windows of
this Victorian madhouse were unbreakable. Thinking of
that steel-barred front door and the steel-barred back
door of this Victorian madhouse, she whispered,
“Jesus, I’m trapped because of that nigger.” With this
dreaded thought, really not knowing to the next hour,
she departed the clean bedroom and took to needed
toilet down that obvious hallway. Now, to say, a
couple of minutes before Miss Patricia Olkeweitz had
entered that large, lamp lit bedroom, Henry the
flaming faggot and Richard the Negro; #23 of wing
‘Blue; were looking down at Henry’s last written
notation--that held inside a leather-bound ledger.
Fred. Fred had that of a loosely rolled, fat marijuana
cigarette in the left breast pocket of his long-
sleeved button cowboy shirt and breathed he rather
curiously in looking inside that of a refrigerator
bigger than usual; and that what said as being packed
with food and other little goodies. Naturally, he made
that of a six second, sweeping study of someone else’s
lifestyle. He liked seeing the chocolate pudding. In
seeing no beer there, he shut the refrigerator’s
rubber trapping door, and then opened the icebox. In
so seeing this icebox packed with good food, he
mechanically shut the door of this icebox. Naturally
stepping to the second refrigerator, now feeling ‘at
home, he opened the door of this refrigerator and
cheerfully eyed of the many assortments of bottled,
imported beer looking fancy of seal, and just as much,
he lip-smiled from seeing many assortments of bottled
American beer, a couple bottles of Jim Bean whisky, a
huge, clear plastic bag holding ten pounds of
marijuana; Hawaiian; and a couple bottles of
champagne. “Damn,” he whispered. Then, he eyed of that
clear plastic bag holding at least five pounds of
white powder, and knew that this white powder to be
almost pure cocaine. “...Holy, shit.” Deciding that
his fiancée could get her own beer when she came
downstairs, he debated as to what country he fancied
on. A moment of thinking, and from that thinking,
taking hold of two bottles of Canadian beer, he of
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s beloved fiancée, shut the
refrigerator, and then searched for that needed bottle
opener. Seven-odd seconds of quietly pulling back two
kitchen drawers and looking inside these kitchen
drawers, a found bottle opener came as to be in his
free right hand, a bottle of Canadian beer in his left
hand, he opened the bottle, and then did the same
thing to the second bottle of beer brewed and bottled
in clean, Canada water. To that, he soon found that of
a trashcan to dispose of two bottle caps. Having two
bottles of beer in the both of his hands and feeling
rather chipper because of that, he walked to near that
of where a heavy desk rested, two strange fellows, on
opposite sides of that desk holding impressive things.
This, in saying that Richard the Negro; #23 of wing
‘Blue; sat in facing an uneven, slightly C-curved line
of broken in slaves, a big fireplace blazing good wood
behind those pretty, broken in slaves. Henry the
flaming faggot raised his clean-shaven chin, to face
this approaching, handsome man that held two bottles
of beer in his hands, a handsome man that his one and
only friend, called Freddy. Of the moment, Henry the
flaming faggot, turning his blue eyes to look at his
one and only friend, wanted to know if, if the new,
broken in slave with the cute ponytails, had a real
taste of Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue. So, he
of wanting to be woman, said, “She take it all the
way?”
“Barely. I was only up in her for a couple of
seconds, and she was stomping her feet. Hey you down
there! Watch the teeth!”
“Yes, master. I’m sorry. I love how, it, grows.
In my mouth, master. I love. It. So. Hmm. Much. Hmm.
Hmm. Hmm. Hmm.” This pretty, 20-year-old, Vietnamese-
American woman--that had great looking buttock cheeks
creamy-white, from having a little bit of French blood
in her, and just as much that of a broken in slave, at
this particular moment, had no remembrance of her
recently murdered husband, murdered, because he did
not pay off his huge gambling debt, to fat Mike White;
#1 of wing ‘Blue. And she of being five-foot, one-
quarter inches in height, not weighing more than
ninety pounds, rather cute when she fully smiled, very
sexy when she had red lipstick on, said what she
humbly said with barely one inch of her black master’s
soft black penis head inside her gently sucking mouth.
Kneeling rather awkwardly she breathed on that pink
pillowcase pillow in being almost underneath the desk
that Henry the flaming faggot and Richard the Negro;
#23 of wing ‘Blue; sat to. Her soft, rather small
hands, yet, artistic hands, stroking up-and-down on
that of semi-soft, fat squashy black flesh that now
measured eight and one-half inches thickly long. She
of slave, finding that deep muscle and stroking around
it, wanting, wanting so much to please her devil-
looking black master. Barely wrapping this Vietnamese-
American, twenty-year-old woman; her buttock cheeks,
great looking; the fingers and opposable thumbs of her
hands around this her black master’s grossly huge,
semi-soft, crunched up, vein-laden black penis. And
even though her black master’s black penis felt
squashy and fat to her petite hands fiercely stroking
up eight and one-quarter inches of semi-soft black
flesh, she breathed as still being full of slight
dread in finding that deep muscle growing around semi-
soft black flesh, feeling fat and squashy. Because,
her devil-looking black master had raped her all the
way seven times within the last three and a-half
months. But, to those three and a-half months, she had
also been raped by #24 of wing ‘Blue and his twelve
and three-quarter inches, #25 of wing ‘Blue and his
thirteen inches, #26 of wing ‘Blue and his thirteen
and one-half inches, #27 of wing ‘Blue and his
fourteen and one-quarter inches, #28 of wing ‘Blue and
his fourteen inches, and #29 of wing ‘Blue and his
thirteen and one-half inches, and they raped her,
whenever they of Negro skin wanted to. And to that
fearful, living black nightmare breath of her now,
having the fear of a maybe eighth time that her devil-
looking black master would rape her at any second, she
of petite, small hands rather artistic-looking,
suddenly felt her devil-looking black master getting a
little harder and bigger. “...Hmm,” she mindlessly
throated, bringing her soft, stroking hands full of
semi-soft, thick, fat squashy black flesh to her
little, clean mouth, wanting she that deep muscle to
grow hard and spray overflowing sperm in her mouth.
She knew that she would get a big line of almost pure
cocaine, if, if her devil-looking black master
ejaculated straight through her sucking lips.
To say further of this pretty, Vietnamese-
American twenty-year-old, called Ku, she now breathed
in being absolutely terrified, knowing at any moment
her devil-looking black master may tell her to take
off her gray cotton sweatpants, lay her small, china-
white bottom on the desk above her, and then be
savagely raped all the way with all there watching.
Rape her--like Devil himself would, while she of being
plunged in and out by her black master’s sixteen and
one-quarter inch, thick and vein-laden black-skinned
penis, helplessly screamed in pleading, agonizing pain
for her devil-looking black master to ‘stop. But, he
of looking as Devil himself never did. And that said
the reason she breathed in being absolutely terrified,
her knees to a pink pillowcase pillow. And so, her
soft white hands looking naturally tanned began to
ever so tremble to what she felt as getting harder and
bigger. She mindlessly liked it. She mindlessly liked
doing it with the black man. She fell to pure evil.
And because of that, the Universe grew sad and Earth
ready itself for great destruction. Sodom, for reason,
again...
“Oh. My, God. It’s. It’s getting. Bigger. Master.”
“Yeah, just watch the teeth, you fucken’ gook.”
“Now be nice, Richard. Up the ass?” Henry the
flaming faggot breathed in talking about that new,
broken in white slave with the cute ponytails; Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz. And he of the flaming faggot,
wanted to see it of such in his woman-thinking mind.
“Halfway. Ah, I don’t know. About twelve inches.”
 Fred, holding two bottles of imported beer in his
hands, breathed in standing to the right side of a
seated black man, called Richard, and what Fred
witnessed for the last three to four seconds in
looking down, absolutely stupefied him. To his eyes of
blue, he witnessed that beautiful, Oriental-looking
woman deliriously wrapping her moving lips around the
biggest penis head he had ever seen in his twenty-one
years of life. And to say of this blurred picture to
his mentally shocked mind, to him, it of such, so
appeared as this Oriental-looking woman, breathed in
sucking on the end of the fattest clarinet in the
whole world.
“That be big candy, Freddy,” Richard the Negro;
#23 of wing ‘Blue made known, taking a bottle of beer
from Freddy’s frozen, left hand. Henry the flaming
faggot looked at the handsome kid, while thinking,
“He’ll be alright,” and then he of the flaming faggot
said aloud to this open-mouthed, twenty-one-year-old,
“Freddy. Or do you wish to be addressed as Fred?”
“Huh. What?”
“Would you care to be addressed as Freddy? Or
Fred?”
Fred once again glanced down at an Oriental-
looking woman, sucking on a black penis head that he
knew she could never swallow down her throat. Seeing
her gently lowered eyelids closed in that of total
thrall, seeing her reddening, tan flesh-pink lips
moving as that of a breathing goldfish out of water.
Seeing her tightly gripping hands slowly stroke up-
and-down on at least twelve to thirteen inches of
hardening, black flesh looking unnatural. Then, Fred
raised his Norman-American chin and looked at that
longhaired man flowing over silky and sheen, black
hair, a longhaired man--that literally looked as
woman. And Fred said to this woman-looking man, “Ah.
Fred.”
“Fred,” Henry the flaming faggot said patiently.
“Grab a chair and sit with us. Just set your beer
here, the chairs are over there. Atta’ boy.”
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; expressed
that of a face of seriousness’ and directed that
serious look at his one and only friend. Because,
Henry the flaming faggot, now fiddling with that of a
computer-mouse’ and doing his clicking thing, just
said that Fred now moved in life as being a possible
friend, to an associate of a high-ranking member of
the Dark Disciples, him to be exact, and nodded his
goatee chin in agreeing with his one and only friend.
Fred, having many strange, new events spinning in his
mind then, on top of that, knowing that he should be
pulling up a chair to sit with two rather strange
fellows, noticed on the right side, middle neck of
this black guy, called Richard, there was that of a
quarter-sized, black tattoo that showed as being the
Star of David. Meanwhile, a twenty-year-old,
Vietnamese-American woman slavishly stroked her
petite, soft hands up-and-down on something that she
hoped would not rape her, at least not all the way.
For she of gorgeous face when she had sexy red
lipstick on and gracing that of great looking buttock
cheeks, once being enhanced in that of high heel
shoes, now mindlessly moved in life as being totally
addicted to those nine, ten, eleven and one-quarter
inches that she had felt whilst being filmed dirty
with black guys, but, she would scream and scream and
scream once feeling that twelve, thirteen, fourteen
inch push from her black master’s black friends that
lived in this Victorian madhouse. Not to mention the
master of this Victorian madhouse himself. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz smartly stepped down uncarpeted
stairs in being done her toilet, her high heel
platform combat boots, near noiselessly sounding her
skinny, yet curvy way. To the middle of these stairs,
she slowly ceased of her descend, seeing her street-
dressed’, beloved fiancée relaxing his back to that of
a masterfully crafted, leather-back, white-oak dining
room chair--this chair to the tail, right side of that
big desk, and then he gulped down beer from a bottle
of beer. And she of having her little tail snared
within wing ‘Blue of the Dark Disciples, thought,
“Jesus Christ, he probably looked right at that
fucker’ getting his dick sucked. And he’s starting,
already. He’ll be after the whisky next. And the
fucken’ idiot will be drunk and babbling his head off,
in a couple of hours. Just as well, I guess. He’ll
pass out. I think that one guy wanted it, anyway.
Yeah, he wanted to fuck me. And I’ll betcha’ his cock
is...” She of once upon a-time good mind, did not know
that this Negro-American male; #27 of wing ‘Blue; had
fourteen and one-quarter inches, but it seemed she of
Suzy Q said as being hell bound in finding out just
how big that black guy was. To add to that pure
evilness, she of once upon a-time good mind, did not
hear of that past conversation to that desk looking
heavy. So, in being relieved of past toilet, looking
briefly at a messy place, those chin-bowed slaves over
there, still looking down, she fully descended stairs,
walked to near two refrigerators, and soon seeing of
what Fred had seen inside these refrigerators, she
gained imported beer to hand.
Now, to her beloved fiancée; Fred; who that had
witnessed of his blue eyes downward at the biggest
black penis that he had ever seen in his twenty-one
years of life, seeing an Oriental-looking woman having
her tan reddish-pink lips, wrapped around a black
penis head that told as being as big as that of a
small woman’s clenched fist, and of what Fred knew she
could never suck beyond that black penis head bigger
than a small woman’s clenched fist, past seeing her
small, petite hands slowly stroking up-and-down and
moaning as she did so, the fingers and thumbs of her
hands, not even being able to wrap all the way around
that thickly vein-laden, grossly huge black penis; had
come to be resting his thin back comfortably to that
of a past fetched, leather-back, white-oak dining room
chair. And that what was so placed to the tail right
side of the desk that two differently-skinned people
sat opposite sides to, he took to hand that of a
bottle of imported beer in feeling chipper, and heard
that slender man gracing long-to-shoulder, silky black
hair--that almost seemed to be flowing back from an
invisible wind, and wearing that of a pink silk robe,
say to that black guy that had a Star of David tattoo
on the middle, right side of his black-skinned neck,
“Sorry about the mess. But, you missed a good one last
night. The girls went nuts over the boys.”
“No problem.” Richard the Negro; #23 of wing
‘Blue; now moved in life as being use to these parties
in this his Victorian house. Because, whenever Richard
the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; went to party and fetch
a new, broken in slave, such as Miss pretty Patricia
Olkeweitz of rolling green acres, and doing so at fat
Mike White’s white mansion, his twenty-four slaves and
black-skinned #26 of wing ‘Blue, #27 of wing ‘Blue,
#28 of wing ‘Blue, and #29 of wing ‘Blue, did so have
their own booze/drug sex party. #24 of wing ‘Blue, #25
of wing ‘Blue, #26 of wing ‘Blue, #27 of wing ‘Blue,
#28 of wing ‘Blue, and #29 of wing ‘Blue, had been
recruited by fat Mike White; #1 of wing ‘Blue; for one
reason. And that reason was because these six, Negro-
American males breathed in life as being innately
criminal, and, because they had grossly huge penises
almost as thick and long as Richard the Negro’s; #23
of wing ‘Blue; sixteen and one-quarter inches, this,
so as to constantly and methodically pain their slaves
to screaming submission. You know--like, ‘right there!
‘O my, God! ‘Yes...! For their hard, thickly vein-
laden, very thick and very long black penises, said as
being more punishment than pleasure to these slaves.
And the new, broken in slaves that screamed on the top
of their lungs, from being painfully raped by #23,
#24, #25, #26, #27, #28, and #29 of wing ‘Blue, and
the veteran slaves that had been pained all the way by
those same black men for the last twenty months; some
longer’; now methodically moaned aloud from their
huffing chest from that addictive pain so mindlessly
felt. And thus to that addictive pain so mindlessly
felt, such soon made all of these slaves lower bellies
looking as some up curved, huge banana said stuffed to
their lower, puffed out belly. No matter how hard they
exercised and dieted, they just could not get their
lower tummies flat and model-looking--that up curved
banana-look would just not go away. Debbie. Sonja. To
say right, these girls knew it of such that ugly was
from having ‘black dicks, up in them nearly all the
time. And they of all that’ turned this Victorian
house into a madhouse.
“...Before I forget, Mister Brown owes us one
hundred dollars in shoes. Sometime next week, use the
van and take one of the new girls, to get some hiking
boots.”
“Richard, you’re going to need that van. Don’t
worry about the shoes. I’ll take care of that.”

Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, imported beer in hand,

debated as where to sit. She wanted to hear every word
of this important conversation, important, in that
such may involve her. So, she decided on those beanbag
seats. There were twelve of these beanbag seats,
forming that of a loose circle around the heavy desk,
and not wanting to watch an Oriental-looking slave
perform oral sex on her devil-looking black master,
and just as much, not wanting to look at chin-bowed
slaves, she silently sat on that of a beanbag seat, in
being behind that obvious homo’ dressed in that of a
silk pink robe. Hearing that homo’ say...
“...Richard, darling, you have to start seriously
thinking, of that string of bungalows we own in
Jamaica. You have to start thinking about our
retirement. I’m telling ya’, it’s getting hot here. I
can feel it coming. And we’re not gonna’ be here, when
it happens.” Henry the flaming faggot breathed in
ready escape from the looming Justice Department,
this, in his talking about 16 rather large, gorgeous,
but wild beachfront bungalows--that Richard the Negro;
#23 of wing ‘Blue; and Henry the flaming faggot, had
purchased with cash one month prior. Henry--that is
Henry the flaming faggot, had plans to make a lot of
money from these Jamaican, wild beachfront, deeply
carpeted bungalows. And that plan of his, simply
this... They would pay pittance to Jamaican-born,
thirteen-year-old Negro boys, fourteen-year-old Negro
boys, fifteen-year-old Negro boys and all the way up
to eighteen-year-old, Negro boys, to be that patient
masseuse, live-in polite butler in each of these
bungalows--that faced crystal blue seawater. And with
having that live-in black boy polite butler, sleeping
down the hall, heard sea lapping at a distance just
perfect, in private, maybe, sexually service they of
Jamaican Negro boy skin, elderly and middle-aged,
rich, married Caucasian-American women--that lived in
New York City, all day long and into the warm,
Jamaican night. Then, Henry the flaming faggot would
buy more wild--that is to say, beachfront property far
away from major Jamaican towns and cities, and then
sit back and watch the word spread about these black
boy butlers, servicing rich, married white women.
Henry the flaming faggot, envisioning rich, married
white women spread gossip to the rich, married white
women of other American cities making regular route to
Jamaica. And then, he wanted to spread that idea his
to a lot more nice islands. And but of course Henry
the flaming faggot, would tape measure each and every
one of these black boys, to see if, if their black-
skinned penis measured at least eleven, thick inches
when fully erect of solid base, and the bigger and
harder, the better for Henry the flaming faggot. But
as of now, he had not sold one bungalow, because,
these 16 bungalows, were built in the middle of
nowhere to Jamaican beach. As the nearest gas station
said as being twenty miles away and there wasn’t even
a movie theatre, within twenty-five miles. So, what
Henry the flaming faggot wanted his one and only
friend; #23 of wing ‘Blue; to do, for now, was to go
to Jamaica for a month or two, hang around one of
their sixteen, magnificent bungalows that faced teal
blue sea-—that connected cement swimming pool, very
private to that private bungalow surrounded by rose
bushes and palm trees. Then, travel to that big city
rather far away and scour the best hotel hotspots and
racetrack, drive an English race car that honked horn
really sophisticated, water-ski every other day, fish
for trophy, throw more money at the racetrack, have
civilized booze parties at one of the bungalows, and
eventually find that of a married, middle-aged
Caucasian-American woman from New York City--that
liked to recreationally snort almost pure cocaine,
smoke Jamaican marijuana, and gulp down champagne
cocktails right around 6 P.M. Then, invite that sexy
sexpot, married middle-aged white woman that had three
young children, to one of their sixteen bungalows, for
a glass of afternoon ice tea to that seen sea so
offhandedly loved to discuss about. Ice tea in tennis
hand looking very feminine, clean and sun-bronzed,
feeling umbrella shade to fair flesh gone deeply
tanned, seated as taught lady to that outdoor,
cushioned chair, seeing the hot, breezy sea through
shady palm trees, Henry the flaming faggot would talk
about boring business, first. Such as buying that of a
string of gas stations on the island of Jamaica. Also,
Henry the flaming faggot, saying to start an airline
charter from Miami, Florida, to that growing bush
airport 33 miles away. The married white lady, saying
how far away these bungalows were from everything.
Whilst she summer fun in her Jamaica summerhouse for
nine weeks out of the year, 33 miles due beach south,
this, with her three children, her husband, only
staying the first two weeks then, her husband flying
back to New York City for business, saying return. The
married white lady did not like to travel where only
black people lived on this island, because, it was too
scary. The married white woman, saying, ‘but this is
nice--as she laze in that of white umbrella’s free
shade, whilst sitting straight as that of a Harvard
board to cushioned seat, sunglasses, sunhat, chic
white cotton sundress, sandals to her tanned feet. The
married white woman; feeling safe in talking to well-
dressed, Henry the flaming faggot; would be politely
told that his private bungalows had a security guard
patrolling the area, with plans to build restaurant,
supermarket, and hotels and finally, she breathed in
being slightly impressed. The married white woman
glanced over at that skinny black man with the goatee,
swimming in the cement swimming pool twenty paces away
from her shaded eyes, and she of being married for 12
years, did so whilst thinking, ‘now that’s a nigger
there, she of healthy spine, seeing how black his skin
was. Soon, Henry the flaming faggot, would introduce;
dripping wet from swimming in a cement pool, Richard
the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; as ‘my partner. The
married white woman, stood, and raised Harvard, blonde
chin from being 5’10’’ in that of sandals. Modern
handshake done fast, the married white woman sat
straight of healthy spine to cushioned, shaded chair--
as that dripping wet, skinny black guy just
introduced, walked away and neared the cement swimming
pool. Hot sun is good to clean water. She of knowing
Jamaica well, sat to cushioned chair, reservedly
wishing for that outdoor champagne cocktail, hearing
that flaming faggot talk about boring business
ventures, and she told the flaming faggot that he
could buy one of her stabled horses that ran regular
racetrack in Jamaica, and she did so, just for fun. A
fifteen-year-old Jamaican black boy, dressed in that
of impeccable, tailor-made butler clothing, appeared,
and soon, the married white woman and Henry the
flaming faggot, were sipping the sunny, hot noon away.
Why not get a little tipsy; she had a Mercedes Benz
limousine owned by Henry the flaming faggot, to take
her back to her summerhouse 33 beach south miles away.
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; still wearing
gray cotton gym shorts while lounging in the cement
swimming pool--that held to that particular bungalow.
Then--as she reached graceful, Harvard hand for that
of a glass of pink champagne, her long shaven legs
free of nylon and sitting as true lady to that of
free, Jamaican shade, Richard the Negro; #23 of wing
‘Blue; drew close to her blue eyes in being dripping
wet. This, this plan, so as to have that casually-
dressed, married, middle-aged rich white woman, see
the obvious outline of what she maybe fantasized
about, in casually seeing it of such, up close. If. If
she of being married to one of her kind, did so
fulfill that of a private and non-witnessed, maybe
fantasy in the bedroom of that bungalow for sale, and
returned five days later just to casually say, ‘hello,
‘Henry, ‘your horse won. And just as much, to
recreationally snort almost pure cocaine and sip
champagne cocktails, Henry the flaming faggot, would
tell her that Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
cost five thousand dollars to have her painful, flesh
stretching fantasy fulfilled, once again. Then, after
she wrote out a check for $205,000 to Jamaican Rose
Bungalows, Henry the flaming faggot would hear her
say, ‘five thousand’ for Richard and two hundred
thousand’ for a down payment on this bungalow. ‘You
said a million dollars, right? And the married white
woman did not stop there in her newfound depravity in
laying down with the black man, saying fast to get
this business out of the way. I think she was
thinking. But, I knew she said, ‘...Ah, ‘how big is
the butler boy? The married white woman, hearing
eleven black inches and thick as her wrist, this
married white woman, hearing that the black boy was
only fifteen’ and that his black penis would grow
bigger with his growing body, she of being married
with three children, eagerly said, ‘with the butler
boy. Then, she said to the flaming faggot, ‘do I pay
you for his salary? $205,000 said as being near
pittance to her. Glancing out the bay window,
champagne cocktail in her major hand, the married
white woman eyed of that devil-looking black man
swimming in that cement swimming pool out there, a
devil-looking black man, soon to be hers in that big
bed down the hallway to the right, again, teal-blue
sea, to that bedroom’s background, again. And Henry
the flaming faggot, would subtly influence her to talk
to her married girlfriends living in New York City--
that he now had fifteen, beautiful bungalows facing
teal blue waters for high rent or that one million
dollar buy. Each expensive bungalow, having that of a
private cement swimming pool, private garden holding
the free shade of balmy trees, rose bushes, outdoor
Jacuzzi very clean, outdoor hammocks, and just as much
to that rumor Henry the flaming faggot wanted to
spread amongst the rich, married white women of New
York City--that of a Jamaican-born, thirteen-year-old
Negro boy, or fourteen-year-old Negro boy, or fifteen-
year-old Negro boy and all the way up to that of a
eighteen-year-old Jamaican boy, to be that of a
patient masseuse, live-in, polite butler in each of
these bungalows that faced crystal blue seawater. And
sexually service they of Jamaican-Negro boy skin,
middle-aged, rich, married Caucasian-American women--
that lived in New York City, all day long and into the
warm, Jamaican night. Sodom, again, for reason...
“...We have sixty million, three hundred
thousand’, in a bank in the Cayman Islands. So, like I
said. We really should be thinking of retiring. Let
Earl buy this place. Or better yet, sell the operation
to White. We have to get down there in Jamaica and
start selling those bungalows.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz couldn’t believe what she
breathed in hearing. Her devil-looking black master
moved in life as not only having the hardest, biggest,
thickest, longest, and most thickly vein-laden black
penis that she had ever stuffed hard up her loose,
flesh-pink vagina; even if it was only for a second or
two; but he was a millionaire, too.
“Retiring, huh? Retiring from what I’m fucked up
in?”
“Richard. Don’t swear unnecessarily. It’s very
unbecoming for the gentleman you want to be.”
“Sorry. I. I love you.”
“I love you, too. You know that, don’t you.”
Fred, pulling away a bottle of imported beer from
his pink-red, Nordic-looking lips, thought this the
strangest conversation that he had ever heard. Hearing
that beautiful, long black-haired man looking as
woman, say, “Honey, we’ve made them tens and tens of
millions of dollars, just this year alone. I’m sure
White will let you go. If you just ask him. Tell him.
Tell him you’re dying of the AIDS virus.”
“What!? I don’t have AIDS. I get checked all the
time. And I only do it with girls that have been
recently checked, too.” Richard the Negro; #23 of wing
‘Blue; meanly eye swept his chin-bowed slaves, while
saying, “You hos’ using condoms and taking birth
control pills?”
“Yes, master,” all the slaves said. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, still slumped to a big beanbag seat, said
nothing.
“Fuck,” Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
worriedly said aloud. “Take them to the clinic in
Chicago and get them checked.”
 “I already have that in hand. Now, darling, you
just relax. You have more important things to think
about. Focus on Silver City and L.A.”
“Yeah, and that’s another fucken’ thing.”
“Make sure we own stock in the new porno studios.
That you open for White in Nevada and L.A., please,
don’t forget. Think enterprise.”
“Lawyers?”
“Lawyers. You don’t have to get the best. Just
simple contract lawyers. And don’t be a showoff in
Vegas. Because I know you’re going there, even though
you don’t have to.”
“Henry, darling, don’t be mad. I’ll be back.”
“I know you will. Take pictures. Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Lots.”
“Lots.”
“See. You got me all teary. Now I can’t even
think what I was talking about.”
“Vegas.”
“You don’t have to go there. They got casinos
near Silver City. And if I see more than one million’
in checks made out to casinos, I’ll plug it. Agreed?”
“I’m not going to lose that much.”
“How much, then?”
“One million’ minus two’.”
They both laughed for about three seconds, and
Henry the flaming faggot, said with that of a white
smile lowering normally, “Remember, you’re an
investor. When you call me, only talk about legal
matters. See. If you knew the computer, I could E-mail
you. I have a perfect code they’ll never crack.”
“I’ll learn it already. What else?”
“Well. If you do, I’ll give you my E-mail
address. Now listen. John bought cement-block
buildings and furniture, cameras, and other equipment.
We’re taking the scenes out of peoples’ houses, and
bringing it back to the studio. The lighting is
perfect in a studio. And he’s waiting for you in
Silver City, with five of our boys and their.” Henry
the flaming faggot glanced at that wide-eyed, handsome
young man then, he said to his one and only friend,
“...Girlfriends. And big Al is doing the same thing in
L.A. Now, Richard, you can’t take a lot of girls with
you.”
“Don’t ya’ think I know that.”
“And you can’t be in any of the pictures, okay?”
“Henry, please, I know all this. See, now I’m
starting to get nervous. Man I hate this shit.”
“As long as you don’t be a showoff, you’ll be
alright. Okay. Once you get that stock going, and form
our studios into an enterprise, we gotta’ make our
move to Jamaica.”
“How?”
Meanwhile--that Vietnamese-American woman that
moved in life as being five-foot, one-quarter inches
in height, not weighing more than ninety pounds,
rather cute when she fully smiled, very sexy when she
had red lipstick on, had all eight fingers of her
artistic hands nearly halfway intertwined around the
thick, vein-laden base of her black master’s totally
erect black penis, the bottom of her left thumb,
pressed up to hard black flesh, in supporting her
nearly intertwined fingers--that aided in her palms
wrapping around the thick base of her devil-looking
black master, the bottom right thumb of her right
hand, supporting up that heavy weight she so held. In
so holding her devil-looking black master in this
learned manner, she held one inch of her black
master’s black penis head inside her sucking mouth,
sucking--like that of a plump-lipped goldfish
breathing air. Knowing her devil-looking black master
to be now hard as a rock, feeling that wildly
throbbing pulse that always caused her to become
absolutely terrified, unbelievably seeing how far away
her mouth sucked on her black master’s big penis head,
this, while she had all of her fingers firmly halfway
intertwined around her black master’s thickly vein-
laden, lower base. And she of kneeling straight up,
ever so gently bobbed her head up-and-down, with now
having barely two inches of her black master’s, rock-
hard black penis inside her sucking mouth. “Hmm,” Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz and everyone else heard emanating
from that girl almost underneath that heavy table.
“...Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. O’ master. It’s so hard.
Hmm. Hmm...”
“Just bribe a nurse to give you paperwork. That
says you have the AIDS virus.”
“Might work. I’ll tell you what. We’ll go down
this June and stay a month. It might be interesting to
get a married white woman in the sack, and have her
talk about my shit in New York. The motherfucken’
master of Jamaica!”
“Richard.”
“Sorry.” Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
quickly reached between his black-skinned legs with
the both of his hands, gripped his totally erect,
sixteen and one-quarter inch black penis with those
hands--like grabbing a baseball bat, and abruptly
pulled his black penis to the left, while saying,
“Damn, girl, you’re starting to do that shit good. I
almost came up in that monkey mouth of yours.”
“Master, please. Please give me some more. I like
your cum’ in my mouth. I like it so much gagging me,”
and the reason that this pretty, Vietnamese-American
twenty-year-old girl near underneath an Oval Office-
looking desk, said that, is because she breathed in
being absolutely terrified that her devil-looking
black master would painfully rape her all the way, at
any moment. Rape her all the way--like Devil himself.
Because, to the fearful breath of her now, she still
couldn’t take those painfully raping, sixteen and one-
quarter inches all the way. It of such, said always
those last; more than thick, three to four inches that
made her scream in agony for her devil-looking black
master to stop raping her. But--that never stopped her
devil-looking black master from painfully raping her
anytime that he wanted to. And just as much of this
Vietnamese-American slave, she said as being past
raped all the way by #24 of wing ‘Blue and his twelve
and three-quarter inches, #25 of wing ‘Blue and his
thirteen inches, #26 of wing ‘Blue and his thirteen
and one-half inches, #27 of wing ‘Blue and his
fourteen and one-quarter inches, #28 of wing ‘Blue and
his fourteen inches, and #29 of wing ‘Blue and his
thirteen and one-half inches, whenever they of Negro
skin wanted to. And to that fearful, living black
nightmare breath of her now, she of staring in total
amazement at what she breathed in being terrified of’,
had no remembrance of her murdered husband. At that
moment, an old-fashioned telephone--that rested atop
the heavy table, rang its loud ring. Henry the flaming
faggot picked up the black horn of this old-fashioned
telephone, and then said as he some TV anchorman,
“Nice Girls Escort Service. Henry, speaking. How may I
help you?”
Henry the flaming faggot, breathed in listening
to that of a known, Negro-American male by the name of
Tom Booth; #2 of wing ‘Blue. What this Tom Booth; #2
of wing ‘Blue; wanted that night, was one of the new,
broken in slaves of Nice Girls Escort Service, this,
so as he could give another reward to that of a Negro-
American, professional boxer that had taken ‘the fall,
in the fourth round in Las Vegas last week. And the
Dark Disciples had made $1,000,000 because of this
Negro-American, professional boxer taking ‘the fall.
But, Henry the flaming faggot did not know that, all
he knew was that Tom Booth; #2 of wing ‘Blue; wanted a
slave for the night. “...Hold, please.” Henry the
flaming faggot placed Tom Booth; #2 of wing ‘Blue; on
hold, and said to his one and only friend, “It’s
Booth. He wants one of the girls, tonight. Is it okay?”
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; had heard
about the $1,000,000 that #1 of wing ‘Blue, #2 of wing
‘Blue, and #3 of wing ‘Blue, had collectively made on
a thrown fight in Las Vegas last week and became
slightly annoyed that he wasn’t privy to that past,
thrown fight. So, he of #23 of wing ‘Blue, decided
that next time they of the same ‘wing, would tell him
next time, by saying, “Tell him all the girls are
booked. No. Wait. Give him this gook sucking my dick.
Here that, bitch! You gonna’ do nigger, tonight!”
“Yes, master.”
“Yeah, I know, you like nigger cock, don’t you?”
“Yes, master.”
Henry the flaming did as his black boyfriend said
as to do, and placed the phone’s horn to black plastic
cradle.
 “Patty. If you want to, go downstairs and workout
for two hours then, shower and take sauna. There’s
sweatpants.”
“There are,” his one and only friend corrected.
“There are. Sweatpants, T-shirts, and tennis
shoes, in the dresser bureaus. Towels, too. You’ll see
it, it’s all down there.” Richard the Negro; #23 of
wing ‘Blue; did so want his slaves to look fit for
customers, especially his white slaves, and Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz, just that, his new, broken in
white slave.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz came as to be mentally
shocked. After all she’s been through for the last 24
hours? Go workout for two hours and take sauna? But
she stood with that half bottle of imported beer in
her right hand, and did as her devil-looking black
master commanded. Hearing from her devil-looking black
master, “...It’s that door under the stairs. It’s
alright, Freddy will stay with us. Freddy, you stay
here with us. Patty, empty that bottle and throw it in
the trash!”
Fred knew that his fiancée exercised every single
day, and did not think this strange that she to now
exercise. She walked to the basement door, opened it,
eyed of shadowy stairs, flipped up a light switch,
stepped forward, closed the basement door behind her,
and descended wooden stairs. Now breathing to that of
a red-bricked walled, cement basement, the cement
floor of this basement, covered over in that of hard
black carpet, there lay to her eyes that of costly
exercise equipment, with mirrors to see oneself
exercising sweating muscle. Also to her sweeping eyes
keen, this red-bricked walled, cement basement, the
cement floor of this basement, covered over in that of
hard black carpet, showed that of a black marbled
Jacuzzi, obvious sauna, steam bath, two industrial
washers to wash clothes, with two dryers to dry these
clothes, and last but not least, she took note of an
open stall shower that could bathe five people at a
time, and this, all held well to this orderly
basement. Of course radiator grills intermittently
lined the red-bricked walls of this clean basement. To
one of the corners of this red-bricked walled, cement
basement, the cement floor of that basement, covered
in that of hard black carpet, she noticed that of a
stout, wooden planked structure looking as an
oversized doghouse. Inside this oversized doghouse,
and unbeknownst to her, held that of two, heavy
Medieval-looking chains attached to the red-bricked
wall to bound slaves with.
Meanwhile--as Patty had descended hard wooden
stairs to exercise, exercise because her devil-looking
black master had told her to do so, the telephone rang
its loud ring. Henry the flaming faggot picked up the
black horn of that loud ringing telephone, and said,
“Nice Girls Escort Service. Henry, speaking. How may I
help you?” Silence reined. “...Yes. We have two nice
girls that speak French.” Silence reigned. “Sorry. One
is brunette, very slender hips yet, very large in the
chest. But, the other nice girl is that of a buxom
blonde, petite, cordate bottom, and graced with that
of sparkling, blue eyes.” Silence reigned. “One is
twenty’, the other nineteen’.” Silence reigned.
“You’ll take them both? Very good, sir. Our rate, due
to your special request and immediate escort service,
is five hundred dollars per hour. All together. For
two, Nice Girls Escort Service. That comes out to one
thousand dollars per hour.” Silence reigned. “Very
good, sir. Do you wish to pay by credit card?” Silence
reigned. “Very good. Just give me your numbers and
we’ll soon see you well.” Henry the flaming faggot
performed his practiced function, and made known,
“Where and when would you wish to rendezvous’ with
these nice girls?” Silence reigned and Henry the
flaming faggot held pen ready. “Chicago. Metropolitan
Opera. 9 P.M. To the front. How many hours, sir?”
Silence reigned. “All night? As from nine’ to?”
Silence reigned. “To next day’s afternoon. I see very
French here. If you will give me one moment, my good
man, I will be with you, right away.” Henry the
flaming faggot gently pushed a button, placing the
phone on hold, and then placed the phone’s horn down.
From that, he calculated to sheet with pen in hand and
soon made known to that of a live phone, “Yes, sir.
Your Nice Girls Escort Service bill, is $16,000.”
Silence reigned. “Our white painted limousine, will
see these two nice girls rendezvous’ with you, in
front of the Metropolitan Opera at 9 P.M. If you wish
to call us for any reason, please do so. Would you
care to be faxed receipt?” Silence reined. “Then. I
say enjoy.” And $16,000 had just been made for wing
‘Blue of the Dark Disciples. Henry the flaming faggot
placed the phone’s horn to that of cradle’s rest then,
turning his chin to the severe left--as he rested to
the cushioned leather chair that he sat to, he said,
“Lorraine! Lori! Let’s go girls! You don’t have much
time! Evening gown and sophisticated hairstyle. Make
it fast. And only speak the French language. No
drinking, unless he tells you to. But stay sharp!” All
the slaves shared clothes, if, if they did not have
evening gowns and other matching clothing, such as S
and M leather outfits and whips. So, these two lively
call girls dashed upstairs to ready themselves for
more than a rich customer, and they of beauty first
glance seen did so, whilst gabbing in the French
language. Henry the flaming faggot turned his chin to
the right, looking at a young, handsome man that
appeared rather intelligent looking, and then said,
“Fred, if you wish, you may have another beer. You
don’t have to ask. Just help yourself.”
“Hey. Thanks a lot. Ah, Henry.”
“You’re welcome. We shall be going out to dinner,
later. And I look forward to your company.”
Fred stood with an empty beer bottle in his left
hand, suddenly liking this obvious homosexual gracing
long black flowing hair, and just as much, liking this
big house saying of being to him--that of a high-class
whorehouse full of beautiful girls, and said he to
Henry the flaming faggot, “Thank you, kind sir. I look
forward to your company, also.”
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; smiled that
type of wide smile looking rather grinning, knowing
his one and only friend liked this street-dressed’
white guy called, Fred, and if truth be known, he of
the Negro, rather liked his new, broken in white
slave’s boyfriend, himself. Richard the Negro; #23 of
wing ‘Blue; picked up a leather-bound ledger, and from
reading Henry’s last written notation, he yelled out,
“Number 24!” Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
called his slaves by number, it said easier that way.
“Yes, master,” this slender, twenty-year-old
brunette answered, raising her lovely chin in looking
at her devil-looking black master. She of Midwest
harvest breathed in being dressed as all the slaves of
this Victorian madhouse, this, in the saying of gray
cotton sweatpants, white cotton T-shirt, white cotton
socks, and white tennis shoes.
“You got your usual customer, tonight. So bring
the S and M stuff and leather pussy outfit.” This
‘usual customer, paid $400 for one hour of this call
girl doing all strange manners of spanking him. The
customer--that of a divorced, living with a younger
woman, assistant-warden to the county prison. And she
of beauty first glance seen took the practiced motions
to go and prepare herself, to be that of a nice call
girl dressed in that of whorish-looking clothing;
clothes that she would unceremoniously take off in
front of her ‘usual customer, then, don that of a
bitch black leather outfit, black leather high heel
shoes reaching her lilywhite thighs, and then be
tongue rakish as all hell with soft whip in hand.
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; took a gulp of
beer, shut the leather-bound ledger, put it aside, and
then picked up another leather-bound ledger, this, as
Henry the flaming faggot, clicked a computer mouse in
following his boyfriend’s motions.
“Number 23!”
“Yes, master,” this slender, twenty-one year-old
bombshell blonde, answered, raising her lovely chin in
looking at her devil-looking black master. Her round
bottom booty, very manhandling, her cheeks, snow-
white, her cloth-covered breasts, sticking straight up
and out, her waist, slender wasp, her eyes, green, and
she of Midwest harvest breathed in being dressed as
all the slaves that dwelled within this Victorian
madhouse, this, in the saying of gray cotton
sweatpants, white cotton T-shirt, white cotton socks,
and white tennis shoes.
 “You have 10 P.M. rendezvous’ with...”

She easily found to dresser bureau drawer that of

a pair of gray cotton sweatpants that fit her, easily
found to dresser bureau drawer that of an oversized,
white cotton T-shirt, easily found to dresser bureau
drawer that of white cotton socks, and just as easily
found a pair of white tennis shoes. Soon, she breathed
in being dressed as all of her black master’s slaves,
and she knew it. “Oh, well.” She always started her
exercise program by stretching her skinny, yet shapely
body for that of two to three minutes. From that;
seeing the cushioned sitting board, she stood to her
feet feeling fast in tennis shoes and walked to that
sitting board. Lying back on that of red, plastic-
coated, thinly cushioned leather, she slowly worked in
ten sit-ups, rested, looked at that well-timbered
ceiling, took a deep breath, and then performed fifty
sit-ups. Fifty sit-ups done, she moaned, “Hmm. Yeah.
Let’s do this, Patty.” Feeling that mechanical groove
that she knew from working-out every single day,
Sundays, too, she walked to the nautilus bench press,
adjusted weight, laid her back to that of a bench
covered in red, plastic-coated, cushioned leather, and
pressed out thirteen reps’. “...Eleven. Twelve.
Thirteen. Fuck!” Bench press done in feeling ending
pain, she performed her second set of fifty sit-ups,
rested for about ten seconds then, she soon said as
being to her feet and coming to press out thirteen
reps’ on the bench press. “...Eleven. Twelve.
Thirteen. Hmm.” Bench press done, wanting to feel
sweat, she performed fifty fast sit-ups. Fully lying
back on the sitting board, resting for about ten
seconds, she of just starting to sweat on her lightly
freckled chest, suddenly jerked her chin up, because
of hearing heavy chains being rattled. Hearing those
heavy chains emanating from that of a rather shadowy
corner, she witnessed that of a stark naked woman,
crawling out of what appeared as being an oversized
doghouse--that of a clean toilet bowl, next to that
oversized doghouse. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz stood
swiftly in absolute mental shock, seeing this stark
naked, young woman stand to her bare feet--that of a
heavy chain, attached around that naked woman’s left
ankle.
“What are you looking at?”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz heard, still breathing in
that of mental shock, then, she thought, “This is a
madhouse.”
This stark naked, bound white slave looked as
having slack of face, and void of mind’s gay eye said
much of her addiction to almost pure cocaine, and her
long-to-waist, dirty blonde hair breathed in being
stringy, oily and uncombed. If. If looked upon closer,
from the upper, right cheek to the top of her upper,
middle lip, there showed that of a three to four
month-old ragged scar--that said as not being past
mended. Her nearly hair-covered eyes, eyes that once
upon a-time shined of Caucasian-American
invincibility, now said slightly shrunken from that of
total misery, her once upon a-time pretty face, now
slightly old-looking, from laying down with the black
man nearly all the time for the last six years. Her
once upon a-time, tight, snug vaginal muscle, now
completely worn-out from grossly huge black penises
having her day in and day out, for the last six years,
and her twenty-three years of age, looked unnaturally
old. She had lay down with the black man and the
Universe breathed in being sad, and so, Earth ready
itself for great destruction. Sodom, for reason,
again...

“...What are you doing, Miss Little’ Prissy’?

What Devil says for you to do? I. I was like you. All
fresh for big black cocks. Isn’t...Isn’t that how you
said it in the beginning, with your girlfriends? Big
black cock. Or did you guys say, big black dick? I use
to whisper big black cock to my girlfriends, when I
was in high school. Uh, we liked to talk about it. One
of the white teachers, fucking the same black boy that
I was doing. We’d get together, and talk about how big
and long some of the black boys were. And always, we
looked over at the white boys in hiding what we were
doing. Yeah. That’s how I use to say it. Big black
cock. And that black cock had me all the time.
Stretching me. Changing me. Then, Devil had me. Devil
had me over and over and over. And I flowed and flowed
all over Devil. You begging Devil, yet? Begging.
Begging. Begging. Uhh, yeah. I can see it. I can smell
Devil on you. Devil been up you, hasn’t he? I use to
love Devil’s cock up in me. Breaking me over and over,
every single time. I begged Devil to have me. Begged!
Begged! Begged! You’ll see. You’ll want to spread for
Devil all the time, just like I did. And beg. Beg. Beg
Devil to stop fucking you. Yeah. You’ll beg Devil,
too.” As if this’ wasn’t bad enough, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz witnessed an insane smile from this stark
naked, young woman bound by chain. “...Then, when
Devil has you over and over and over. You’ll be like
me! You’ll be to the block! You’ll be in hell!” This
bound slave looked up, and screamed at that high
ceiling above her, “I hate you! I hate you, Devil!”
This bound white slave sat down on the hard, black
carpet floor, curled up on her right side, and cried,
“I hate. I hate you. Mommy. Mommy, please save me.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; knowing those headphones
rested atop one of the two large dresser bureaus, took
fast steps to retrieve these headphones to hand.
Having these headphones to her hands, she flipped a
small switch, heard loud black music, smiled that of a
white smile, thought about those black guys that were
putting her stuff in a big barn; black guys that Suzy
Q sensed had real big ones’, black guys that had
obviously wanted to spread her skinny, yet shapely
legs and pain her all the way, and so, to this
thought, she placed these headphones over her ears.
Loud black music blasting in her ears, thinking about
doing a line of almost pure cocaine later with those
street-dressed’ black guys, she proceeded to exercise
as hard as she could. That night in this that
Victorian madhouse, this, after Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, Fred, Henry the flaming faggot, and Richard
the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; had gone out locally to
finely dine in that of a restaurant very candle
upscale, with ‘lobster, being ordered by Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz’s hungry, Polish-American brown eyes--that
of a knotted, soft Rhine gold chain graced to her
slim, long matching neck. Then, all nice and full,
slightly tipsy on good wine, going to that of a late
night movie, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and Fred,
separately lay to that of a adult bunk bed. Fred,
laying to the bottom mattress of the adult bunk bed,
and Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, laying to the top
mattress of this adult bunk bed, now breathed as being
all naked and pillow snuggled atop that of a clean
sheet, naturally--that of a clean sheet, separately
covered them with downy blanket over that clean sheet
and a heavy wool blanket over that downy blanket,
radiator grills, making the large bedroom nice ‘n
cozy. The weather outside, freezing and howling
blizzard and to this that night, she heard from her
beloved fiancée.
“Goodnight, Patty.”
“Goodnight, Fred. Don’t worry, everything will be
fine.”
“Yeah, I know. Patty, I have to know. Are? Are
you doing it with black guys?”
“Fred, how could you even ask a question like
that? No, I’m not doing it with black guys. I love
you, you know that.”
“I love you, too. You know that. But. It’s just
the way you smiled at Richard all night. I mean. You
use to smile like that at that Jerome guy. I always
thought you were smiling to get us some coke. But the
way you smiled at this guy. It was almost obvious.”
“Fred. Do you trust me?”
“Well. Yeah.”
“The only reason I smiled at him, is because we
don’t get kicked out in that freezing weather out
there. I’m not going back to live with my mom. Is that
what you want? To go back and live with your parents?”
“Naw. I guess not. The first thing I’m doing, is
getting a job tomorrow.”
“Fred, they’re calling for a foot of snow. Just
relax. Wait ‘till the snowstorm is over, then we’ll
both go out and look for a job. You like Chicago?”
“Yeah. Well, I don’t know. Then. You weren’t
smiling at Richard, because you liked him?”
 “Fred, no. He’s ugly. Now, get some sleep. In a
day or two, we’ll both look for a job. Uhh. If you can
help it, don’t go down the basement.”
“Why?”
“It smells like shit down there.”
She didn’t want her beloved fiancée, seeing what
she had seen; madness.
Sleeping. Three hours later, they heard the door
being opened and eyed of a well-dressed woman enter
the shadowy, dark bedroom. This nice call girl white
slave, in the dark-shadowed bedroom, quietly changed
into pajamas, left the bedroom to brush her teeth and
toilet in the private bathroom, reentered the bedroom,
softly shut the door behind her, walked forward, faced
the window--that had curtains drawn back, looked at a
full moon that she knew to be there behind snow
clouds, and clearly chanted, “O’ great master. Satan.
Fill my body with your black cock. The temple of your
pain is black cock. Pain me. Have me. Want me. Give me
your pain in my cunt. I love you. I love your black
cock. And I surrender all my soul to your pain of me.
Spread me. Spread me. Spread me. Spread me.” And then
this nice call girl white slave stuck her dark-pink
tongue out as far as she could and performed that of a
vibrating of chest, neck, and face, facial exercise,
and she did so have her eyes totally wide open whilst
voicing controllably, “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
Then, she crawled into that adult bunk bed over there
and went sound to sleep.
Near to that of one hour later, sleeping Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz once again came to be awakened--as
did her beloved fiancée. Again, she breathed in being
grateful that this young woman disrobe of her
clothes--like the other girl, without the light on. In
the dark shadows, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz witnessed
that of a beautiful, white naked body slip into
pajamas, then she witnessed the girl looking out the
window, then, she heard that dark-haired girl say,
“Hail Mary. Full of grace. My blessed Mother of Jesus.
I beg thee. Drive Devil from my mind. Deliver me from
this black evil I have found myself. Drive back
Devil’s hares that try to take my soul. And, please.
Please, don’t let me be sold to the block.”
The next mid-morning, about nine-thirty’, the
Victorian house, cozy and warm, the freezing air
outside, making it feel that way, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz awoke from that of a car honking its horn.
Being that this noise said nearly right outside the
second floor window she knew as being unbreakable, she
quickly pushed covers off her naked body and swiftly
tip-toed to the icy-laden window. Bare feet planted to
that of a soft, white carpeted floor, she slightly
looked down through the window and eyed of her black
master’s white painted Cadillac, slowly cruising to
make way around the left side of this Victorian’. From
this rather far distance, she glimpsed of her black
master’s face, and at that moment, he of her devil-
looking black master turned his goatee chin to the
left, looked up a little, and Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
quickly stepped back, because of her devil-looking
black master seeing half of her naked body. She felt
more embarrassed than anything else, her self-esteem,
at a very low point. Seeing her devil-looking black
master turn his goatee chin to the right, she stepped
forward; then, she witnessed that crazy, naked young
woman that had crawled out of an oversized doghouse in
the basement; a heavy, Medieval-looking chain around
her ankle; in the back seat of her black master’s
white Cadillac. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz thought of
what that crazy girl had said, this, in that she had
said, “You’ll be like me! You’ll be to the block!”
Then, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, being physically fit
and keen of well sired mind, whispered, “The hell I
will.” The weather outside this Victorian madhouse,
freezing and blustery, with heavier snow clouds moving
in from the northwest. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz turned
from her devil-looking black master driving that white
slave away, and looked at the downy blanket-covered
back of her beloved fiancée, thus, not being able to
see his handsome face. She knew that her beloved
fiancée to be awake, and approached the bunk bed so as
to lovingly kiss the back of his head. “I love you,”
she whispered, those two young women, falling back to
sleep in the other adult bunk bed over there. Once she
of rolling green acres did that nice thing to her
beloved fiancée, she stood back and softly whispered,
“I’m gonna’ take a shower.” And with that of a breath
or two, she opened the bedroom’s door, peeked out the
door in being naked, stepped out to the hallway, shut
the door behind her, and briskly walked to the
bathroom.
Once and when Miss Patricia Olkeweitz walked into
a large bathroom--that held that of a beautiful and
glass-pebbled, pale smoky-paned window, she of being
use to comfortable living, fully smiled. Seeing more
than what a bathroom needs, she soon toileted,
showered with perfume soap right out of the box, and
borrowed the shampoo that was already resting in the
shower. “Oh, yeah. This is good stuff.” She cleaned
her body well and felt as she did not have to shave
her smooth legs, and from that thought, she happily
took to wet, clean hand that of a white cotton towel
from the bathroom’s bureau. Drying her hair with that
white cotton towel, and doing so while walking down
the carpeted hallway, she debated as what to wear.
Once inside her issued bedroom, knowing all her chic
clothes to be in that barn outside, she quietly donned
brand-new gray cotton sweatpants, brand-new white
cotton T-shirt, brand-new white cotton socks, and
brand-new white tennis shoes. That of a knotted, soft
Rhine gold chain graced to her slim, long matching
neck.
“Fred, go take a shower. They got new
toothbrushes in the bathroom’s bureau. And make sure
you clean up after you.”

Lying on the bottom mattress of the adult bunk

bed, she thought what her beloved fiancée to wear. He
had no choice; he was to wear the same clothing that
he had on yesterday. Nearly everyone inside this
Victorian madhouse ate scrambled eggs, home fried
potatoes, sliced tomatoes, bacon, tomato juice and
coffee done their way, then the three nice call girl
slaves that had prepared this afternoon brunch, sat to
one of two dining room tables and ate the same fare
whilst lightly talking. These three, nice call girl
slaves that prepared and cooked food within this
Victorian madhouse, were called by the rest of the
nice call girl slaves, ‘nigger girls. The reason that
these nice call girl slaves called these three nice
call girl slaves, ‘nigger girls, is because these
three, nice call girl slaves were the recently broken
in slaves. In so being that of rookies to this
Victorian madhouse, the three nice call girl slaves
mostly stayed inside this Victorian madhouse and did
chores nearly all day long. There said that ‘ton of
wash to do, cooking, dishes, vacuuming, polishing, not
to mention cleaning that black marble Jacuzzi in the
basement. And the fast, giggling chatting of these
three rookies eating, said such as this... “Master do
her, yet?” This slender, gorgeous blonde moved in life
as being so use to calling Richard; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
master--that she of blue eyes didn’t even realize the
seriousness’ of her situation.
“You know master go couple seconds, first time,
yo. I think master gonna’ do me, tonight.” This
pretty, buxomly brunette, moved in life as being so
use to calling Richard; #23 of wing ‘Blue; master--
that she of green eyes didn’t even realize the
seriousness’ of her situation. She knew, and didn’t
want to know that she talked--like black girls.
The third ‘nigger girl, twenty years of age and
having brown hair dyed blonde, scoffed at this
eighteen-year-old, buxomly brunette, and she did so
scoff, in saying, “Master not do you all way, yo.
Master do Alice every night, for last week. She sleep
in master’s bed.” She knew, and didn’t want to know
that she talked--like those ignorant black girls she
had been forced to befriend in high school, because of
government-enforced mixing of the lower and middle
class.
The truth does not make you free, it makes you
angry.
“Yeah. But you knows’ that doesn’t last, yo. I
hear master might be driving out to California. Can
you see master’s big hotel rooms? You know master will
stop in Vegas. It’s right on top of California. Hmm.
Partying on master’s coke and champagne. Pancakes in
the morning. Or even sucking master in the van, in
some out of the way place.”
“I wish.”
“Me, too.”

An hour or so later, Fred, still wearing the same

street clothes that he had on yesterday, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, wearing casual slave clothing--that is, in
the saying of brand-new gray cotton sweatpants, brand-
new white cotton T-shirt, brand-new white cotton
socks, and brand-new white tennis shoes--that of a
knotted, soft Rhine gold chain graced to her slim,
long matching neck, were sitting next to each other on
one of two, big Italian tan leather couches that
formed that of a L shape, in facing a big color TV
that lay to a solid block of polished oak, this TV,
seven paces to their direct forward eyesight. And they
did so sit next to each other while watching a
commercial. At that moment, Tulip; #26 of wing ‘Blue;
that had a thick, vein-laden black-colored penis when
erect, thirteen and one-half inches, descended those
safe stairs from the second floor, and he did so in
wearing leather slippers and white cotton pajamas
without pajama shirt. And within several moments of
drinking a glass of orange juice, popping a multiple
vitamin pill, looking outside one of two bullet-proof
windows that held to the oversized, fluorescent-
lighted kitchen, he of #26 of wing ‘Blue, soon came to
stand to the near/distant left of Fred’s contently
resting fiancée. This Negro-American male, called
Tulip; #26 of wing ‘Blue; seeing Richard’s; #23 of
wing ‘Blue; new, broken in white slave in the
daylight, not a lick of makeup on her, did so stare at
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and couldn’t keep his black
eyes off her. She, hope of race. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz promptly looked to the left, now knowing
that a shirtless black man dressed in white cotton
pajamas stood in staring at her, and he of Negro skin
thought as the new, broken in white slave smiled that
of a white smile of readiness’ and, silently flashed
she those Polish-American brown of hers, in saying,
‘when are you going to make your move. At least he
thought she said that. All Fred could see, is that she
gave the shirtless black man that of a fast smile and
faster nod.
He of being a member of the Dark Disciples,
thought, “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna’ fuck the shit out of
this one’.” Then he said aloud, “Hey guys.” #26 of
wing ‘Blue walked forward, a tan leather couch to his
right. “...My name is Tulip,” and he stood shirtless,
about a pace or two away from Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz’s left foot that said covered in that of a
brand-new, white tennis shoe. Now, nervously resting
her back to tan leather, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, did
not want to appear obvious, but she searched of her
Suzy Q eyes to see that of a soft, long and fat
outline, to that of thin white cotton, and of what she
nonchalantly searched eye for, this, resting in being
soft behind thin pajama cotton cloth, took about two
to three seconds in her mind seeing thin cotton
pajamas colored white. Tulip; #26 of wing ‘Blue; that
had a thick, vein-laden black penis when erect,
thirteen and one-half inches, recently got out of jail
and while he did his nine month sentence, he had
lifted weights and now looked bulked up. Tulip; #26 of
wing ‘Blue; that had a thick, vein-laden black penis
when erect, thirteen and one-half inches, stood one to
two paces to the left of Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, and
he couldn’t take his black eyes off her. She beauty
first glance seen. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, still
resting to tan leather, suddenly stared at that big
TV, and thought she of rolling green acres, “Jesus
Christ, look at the size of this one’.” She flashed
that unwanted picture of her black master’s grossly
huge, thickly vein-laden black-colored penis, and then
heard her beloved fiancée say his name.
“Fred.”

Fred, still seated--as his fiancée said breathing

to his left; just now aquatinted one second before his
fiancée’s fast look of ‘how big is it.
“What are you guys watchin’?”
 Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, her elfin chin unmoving,
glanced her brown eyes to the left and looked at that
outline’, and then relaxed her nervous mind. Maybe,
hopefully, nothing would happen, because, her beloved
fiancée sat right next to her. Right?
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, her back resting to
Italian tan leather, brought her measuring, Suzy Q
eyes to the discussed color TV looking rather big
seven paces to her forward looking eyes. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz mindlessly crossed her right leg over her
left knee in that of a lady-like fashion, and then
crossed her arms below her fit chest, suddenly feeling
bored. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz did not even take
notice that Suzy Q enjoyed that smell of rather new,
Italian tan leather feeling tough and neat beneath
her. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, just getting use to the
many smells of this Victorian madhouse. And as there
said a commercial on, Fred said, “Gilligan’s Island.”
All three of them looked at the TV. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz; an interracial, Midwest porno actress--that
was forced to quit that job just yesterday; felt even
more relaxed, she thought nothing was going to happen.
Fred looked at that shirtless black guy standing not
more than a pace or two to the left of where his
fiancée sat in having her arms crossed below her
cloth-covered breastplate, and knew that she could see
what he just now glanced at. Fred silently thought
about her loose, clean clothing. “Sweatpants. She’s
always working-out,” and he wanted to kiss her. Fred
wanted that shirtless black guy standing to the left
of his contently resting fiancée, not to stand
sideways to her forward eyes that he loved, noticing
that black guy putting the palms of his black hands on
his hips and looking--like he was taking ‘a piss, in
an oversized toilet bowl. Because, his fiancée could
sweepingly see the outline of it at that obvious side
angle, if she wanted to, not more than a pace or two
from her Polish-American brown eyes staring at the TV.
In the past and rather recently in that five to seven
week way, Fred was always ordering teenaged black boys
and some black guys to ‘sit over there, and not to get
too loud and cozy with his fiancée, or else they would
be told to leave and not to come back. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz had always helped Fred keep those seven,
teenaged black boys tamed, and the nine black guys
that came around thirteen months ago, she had twiddled
down to three. But, this wasn’t his place. Plus, the
serious music of Gilligan’s Island just came on.

Leather slipper, pajama-dressed’ Earl; #27 of

wing ‘Blue-—that had a thick, vein-laden black penis
when erect, fourteen and one-quarter inches, had
descended stout stairs from the second floor and
basically went through the same motions as #26 of wing
‘Blue. The only difference, he soon had that of a
fresh bottle of unopened whisky in his right hand.
Sealed bottle of whisky in hand, he approached Fred
from Fred’s right side--that tan leather couch, to the
left of that approaching black man wearing pajamas,
and within seconds, he breathed in passing this fresh
bottle of whisky to Fred, and then introduced himself.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; staring at the big TV that
sat seven paces to her forward eyesight, silently
thought, “Oh, no, here they come. Shit. Fred.”
“My name is, Earl.”
“Fred. Thanks.”
Fred, still seated, but now to the edge of the
tan leather couch, said all white smiles in having
that fresh bottle of whisky in his studying hands, and
used of his right hand to crack the bottle’s fancy
seal. Naturally, Fred said, “You guys want some?”
“No thanks,” pajama-dressed’ Earl; #27 of wing
‘Blue; said in standing slightly to the right of Fred,
and he said what he said, while looking at Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; still
resting her back to that of a tan leather couch, her
right leg, draping over her left knee in that of a
lady-like manner, her arms, crossed below her
breastplate; stared at the big TV.
Fred heard, “No, thanks,” from that other black
guy standing to the left of his fiancée, and he did
not like the way this wide-grinned, shirtless black
man was looking at her.
 Soon, all four of them sniffed a line of almost
pure cocaine. Fred said as having all white smiles,
sensing snow starting to fall. Fred did not see that
white slave place seven cordwood short logs, into the
belly of the low fire of the red-bricked fireplace.
Fred did not see that white slave turn the radiator
grills on full blast. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz hoped
nothing would happen. Leather slipper, pajama-dressed’
Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue-—that had a thick, vein-laden
black penis when erect, fourteen and one-quarter
inches; couldn’t keep his black eyes off the new,
broken in white slave. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz;
sitting her back straight on that tan leather couch,
felt black eyes staring at her. She that beautiful
with her lightly thick, silky soft dry hair dangling
brown in the daylight, and so this hair thickly
streaked with chestnut-gold to brown’s dominance
telling great wonders of color. Color, he of the Negro
could not sire. Her naturally raised cheeks always
seemed to be happy, no matter what. Perhaps, he of the
Negro could sire that, but it of such, looked better
on her. Her intelligent-looking forehead, perhaps, he
of the Negro could sire that also, but it of such,
also looked better on her. That pale-green vein on the
left side of her resting neck looking beautiful;
color, he of the Negro could sire, but such of that
color, would be a hard to see color. And said he of a
member of the Dark Disciples; while standing five
paces to the right of that happily reclining to
Italian tan leather couch, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz...
“That shit get you going, baby?”
She did not look at that standing, pajama-
dressed’ black man that said that’, a black man that
breathed in standing to the right of her beloved
fiancée, she just stared at the TV. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz got what she wanted for the moment. She
breathed in being high again; you could see it on her
staring face. Suddenly, she stuck her clean, pink
tongue out as far as she could, opened her mouth as
far as she could, and did so with her eyes gone
unnaturally bulged and widely opened, and just as much
to what suddenness is, she naturally vibrated her face
while tensing her neck muscles and chest to that
facial exercise she recently read about. She even made
some noise that sounded like... Debbie. Sonja. I know
I love to.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
She didn’t care. That’s all she did, exercise.
She wanted to move and stretch out her cartilage. Fred
swallowed a fast swallow of hard whiskey. Fred, fully
reclined to the tan leather couch, rested that whisky
bottle to the middle of his lap, and he did so, in
being to the right side of his fiancée--that had her
clean, pink tongue sticking out as far as she could
and making that quiet ‘Ah noise. Fred, seeing how this
pajama-dressed’ black man; Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue;
grinned at his fiancée after saying, ‘that get you
going, ‘baby; quickly swallowed more whiskey. Then,
Fred said to that other black guy standing to the left
of his fiancée, “She’s doing facial exercises.” Fred’s
French-blood anger just now emerged with his
scrunching cheeks gone greatly irritated. The
shirtless black guy standing to his fiancée’s left,
grinned wide in not even looking at him; he was
looking directly at his fiancée. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, her face at rest, felt her beloved
fiancée’s sudden irritation and lovingly she rubbed
the top of his left leg covered over in blue jeans,
with the palm of her right hand, and then she
pretended to watch TV. Actually, she felt mind’s want
as to exercise. She wanted to do upside down push-ups
against the wall. Again, Fred heard from that other
black guy to the right--that also kept looking at his
fiancée, while she rubbed the top of his left leg
covered in blue jeans and blankly staring at the TV.
She giggled, seeing Gilligan trip over some beach log.
But, she also heard that pajama-dressed’ black
man to the right of her beloved fiancée, say, “It’s
alright, Fred. We know she’s your girlfriend. Relax.
We’s’ be back in an hour or two. Then, we party some
more. We party. Real hard. That sound okay with you,
Patty? Two hours?”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz sniffed winter, Victorian
madhouse air as hard as she could; feeling almost pure
cocaine drip down her throat. She got what she loved
for the moment and she felt so whilst pretending to
watch TV.
“...Patty. Two hours?”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz slightly raised her elfin
chin to the right, knowing what this pajama-dressed’
black man wanted her to do, and unemotionally said to
her black master’s black friend, “Party. I’ll be
ready. And Fred will be ready, too. Fred, say thank
you.”
“Yeah. Hey, thanks a lot,” Fred said fast to that
black guy standing to the right. Fred, glad that
almost pure cocaine keeping his drinking alive then,
he glanced at that black man’s, thinly cloth-covered
private area. Fred quickly turned his Norman-French
chin to the left and noticed her white smile--as being
directed up at the pajama-dressed’ black man. Fred
turned his Norman-French chin to the right,
subconsciously feeling that bottle of whisky resting
between his lap and lightly gripped in his right hand.
Fred stared at what he looked at, and said in his
mind, “What the fuck? What? Oh, man, I fucken’ knew
it. She is fucking black guys.” But then again, she
was always smiling--like that. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz’s white smile, one of the many charms, Suzy
Q had.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, now looking at her
beloved fiancée sitting to the right of her; tan
leather beneath the both of them; caught her beloved
fiancée looking directly at that black man’s thinly-
covered private area, and she said in her mind, “Jesus
Christ, he’s staring right at it.” Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz slightly turned her chin to the upraised,
forward left, smiled an acquiesced, white smile at
Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; whilst she quickly nod in
hidden agreement. She knew to be raped soon. But to
that fast nod in hidden agreement to be raped, she had
no inkling that this black man that kept looking at
her, Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; had that of a thick,
vein-laden black penis when fully erect, fourteen and
one-quarter inches. He of Negro skin, seeing that pure
evil white smile emanating from the new, broken in
white slave’s fresh face, felt his black penis
suddenly swelling to that of being nearly hard. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz, who that seemed for the last
forty-odd hours near constantly in that of a forced
state of ‘I’ll be ready, ‘for it, glanced at the black
man’s thinly-clothed private area, quickly lowered her
surrendering white smile, from knowing the
seriousness’ of the situation, and slightly widened
her Polish-American brown eyes whilst thinking, “Oh,
my God. Look at the size of it.” This, as Fred had
seen the same.
Both of these members of the Dark Disciples
walked away and descended basement stairs to shower in
the open shower stall, and then workout on nautilus
machines. For that of a good twelve seconds, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz and Fred said not a word then, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz cunningly lip-smiled--as her
beloved fiancée took his third, hard swallow of whisky.
“Are you fucking black guys?” Fred said with that
bottle of whisky lightly gripped in his right hand--
that bottle of whisky, waiting between his lap feeling
comfortably confident.
“We talked about this last night.” Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, sensing the gray, cold day, turned her chin
to the severe right and gazed over her right shoulder
area, noticing at least five slaves milling about the
fluorescent-lighted kitchen 20 paces away, and she
sensed to mind of at least a dozen slaves standing and
lounging around two impressive dining room tables,
eight to ten paces to her right. Above those two
dining room tables--that small chandelier added good
white light mixing well with fluorescent lighting.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz sensed more slaves milling to
that fancy of mirror, black leather wet bar, this
black leather wet bar, about 20 paces behind her and
to the left. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz did not see any
of her black master’s black friends. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz thought that maybe nothing would happen. She
turned her face to the right, snuggled a little closer
to her beloved fiancée and gave him that of a fast
kiss to his left cheek. The big TV said as being a
little loud. Looking at her beloved fiancée with
determination in her brown eyes, noticing how his blue
eyes stared blankly at the TV, she forcefully got
across without him looking at her, “No. I am. Not.
Fucking. Black guys. I can’t help if they stood in
front of me like that.”
“Let’s get outta’ here,” Fred said.
“Don’t you want some more? At least ask him, if
we can buy some. He’s got five pounds of it, in the
refrigerator.”
“I can’t take these guys looking at you.”
“Fred, you know how they are, in the beginning.
They just act like that. You like Jamie don’t you?”
Jamie said as being her favorite black boy, sixteen
years old. “...Remember? How he looked at me like
that? And sometimes talked dirty about me, in front of
you? And how you put your foot down and told him, I
was your boyfriend? I mean girlfriend?”
“Yeah, he’s alright.” Fred briefly thought about
Jamie giving him free coke once in awhile and all
those black boys and white boys that he played touch-
football with, once in awhile. Then, Fred lowered his
chin slightly to the left without looking at her, and
whispered, “But I’m sick-and-tired of seeing all these
niggers.”
“Which one’?” she said normally.
“What?” Fred looked at her.
“Fred, don’t you understand, we’re going to live
in Chicago. I’m never going to see those boys, ah,
guys, again. Don’t you remember? We had this planned.
You want to go to your mom’s place?”
“You?”
“We should stay and party a little bit. What? Are
you afraid to talk to those girls?”
“Patty, they’re whores.”
“Fred, you see how that homo’ has this place set
up, it’s a call girl escort service.”
“What’s the difference?”
“As long as they don’t have sex, with their
escort, it’s legal. Look, I’ll tell.” Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz suddenly forgot the name of her devil-
looking black master that had raped her yesterday,
raped her, in more ways than one. “...I’ll tell Mary’s
friend.” Then she remembered. “Richard. To talk to
him. Them. Okay? Now. Do you want to stay here for a
couple of days, or get a hotel? Because, I’m not going
to live with our parents. I mean, not yet at least.
So, what do you want to do, yo’?”
“First, I don’t want you talking like a nigger, I
told you that.”
Debbie. Sonja. I know I love to see...
“Sorry, you’re right. That whisky smells strong.
You want to leave, right now? Fuck ‘em, right? You
know, they got some nice oil rigs in Alaska.”
“What? What are you talken’ about?”
“I’ll betcha’ a mechanic could make a lot of
money in Alaska.”
“Are you serious?”
“Well. I mean, maybe for later. First, I have to
learn a trade. So, is it Chicago or not?”
“Well. As long as you tell that guy, I guess we
could stay for a couple of hours.”
“Now, wait a minute. Are we getting a hotel? I
told you, we had this planned. Stay here until we get
a job in Chicago. You should get a job in the first
three days, up there. Now listen. I’ll tell him.
Relax. You know, I had this planned.”
“What? Staying here?”
“No. About leaving the apartment.”
She subconsciously thought how being evicted from
her apartment, smoothly got her to Chicago but, she
had not planned in being a prisoner of this Victorian
madhouse. It of such, just worked out that way. “...I
knew you wouldn’t leave to come. Come to the city and
live with me.”
“Patty, it hurts are credit.”
“Guess what, swetty’-sweets?”
“What?”
“I got six grand’, in cash.”
“Really?” Fred swallowed whisky because of sudden
happiness.
“So. It’s decided? We stay here for a couple
days?”
“Yeah. It’s not too bad. I kinda’ like that
homo’.”
 “Don’t worry, you’ll like Chicago, you’ll see.”
She noticed him turn his handsome chin to the
severe left, almost turning his sinewy body halfway
around with his left elbow leading his blue eyes. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz knew that he said looking at those
five white slaves on the other side of the oversized
living room, and these five white slaves she sensed in
being behind her, said to her mind as being at least
20 paces away. To add, these 5 white slaves stood as
being loosely grouped together around the corner that
held of a hi-fi stereo system.
“I thought you said they were whores?” Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz teased him.
Naturally, Fred turned his body to the right, sat
straight while blushing, and then looked at the big
TV. “What?”
“I see you looking at them. Pretty, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, they’re alright. You notice that they’re
all dressed the same?”
“Huh? Oh, well. My stuff is in that barn, I
guess.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz really did hope that
she would live in Chicago with this handsome man that
she had asked to marry. Suddenly, she felt sad from
now breathing within that of a living black nightmare.
“...This feels alright that I got on. That reminds me,
you’re still wearing the same clothes.”
“Tell me about it.”
“They got sweatpants that fit you, sneakers, too.
I mean. I’ll get some for you. Just for now. Ah,
tonight. That is, if we’re staying. Are we?” Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz stared at the big TV, the bottom of
her brand-new white tennis shoes, lightly resting to
the hardwood floor, her arms, comfortably crossed
below her breastplate.
“Well. As long as you tell that guy we’re getting
married.”
“I will. Ah. Did you notice that all the windows
are locked?”
“So? Windows are supposed to be locked.”
“I mean, you can’t open them. And they’re, like
feel, unbreakable. And did you notice the steel doors?”
 “What are you saying? That we’re trapped in
here?”
“No, just saying. Turn the channel. Put music on.”

Two hours later, Fred breathed in being antsy and

controllably drunk--that Italian tan leather, tough
couch felt well under him, and from his want of almost
pure cocaine, he turned his Norman-French chin to the
left and said, “Is that guy coming back or what?” He
wanted almost pure cocaine to keep his drinking alive.
Fred subconsciously gladdened because of glancing
through the oversized, clean window, in seeing heavy
snow falling. Fred rather enjoyed those heavy green
curtains drawn back, so as to see this snow falling
outside--that winter forest yonder, to eyes distance.
Fred rather enjoyed those heavy, unlit brass lamps
that held to this particular area.
“Fred, he’ll be here. Don’t worry about it.”
Though Fred breathed as being controllably drunk,
he thought, “She’s right, I can get a job in Chicago.
Four weeks to wait for unemployment. Bastards. Why
can’t they computerize it?”
Fred drunkenly said aloud, “Patty, what about my
might. Night classes?”
“Huh?”
“What about my night classes?”
“Transfer it to Chicago. You’re right in learning
computer science.”
“Yeah, and I need two more computers and
equipment I saw on the Internet.”
“Cool.”
She knew he was starting to learn how to make
computer video games and she fully smiled from
happiness. They rested eyes to the big TV and watched
trophy fishing, until another commercial came on. Fred
took a hard swallow of whisky, looked at the bottle
and said, “Damn, I drank that much?”
“Fred, don’t get sick.”
“Yeah. It’s that coke that keeps me going.”
“I know.”
Fred rather enjoyed that tan leather couch he sat
to, his channel, set on discovery’. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz noted to subconscious mind of that unseen,
crackling fireplace behind her to the angled left, by
the distance of twelve paces, and that of a tough knot
of cordwood, just now cracked from fire and made a
little popping noise. Fred took a sip of whisky, right
out of the bottle. “Is that guy coming back or what?”
He wanted almost pure cocaine to keep his drinking
alive and he subconsciously gladdened, because of
seeing through the oversized, clean window, heavy snow
falling. Fred rather enjoyed those heavy green
curtains. Fred rather enjoyed those heavy, unlit brass
lamps that held to this particular area.
“I said he’ll be here, don’t worry about it. And
I can’t believe you want to watch this stupid channel.
Two girls, already asked you to put it on the music
channel.”
“Man, it’s noisy in here, ain’t it?” As all 24
slaves and 6 members of wing ‘Blue, were milling about
this Victorian madhouse. The stout stairs always had
that walking up and walking down noise. Pretty slaves
in the oversized kitchen and just as much, lounging
around two dining room tables with one ugly Dark
Disciples member. Pretty slaves and ugly Dark
Disciples, downstairs in the carpeted basement,
upstairs, and in the attic, too. Richard the Negro;
#23 of ‘Blue; being in Chicago, selling that Midwest,
worn-out slave to the block. Henry the flaming faggot,
reading in the master bedroom. Henry the flaming
faggot, resting his back on that of a single bed--that
held nine paces away from the king size bed Richard
the Negro, slept on. To one corner of the first floor,
oversized living room of this Victorian madhouse,
about 20 paces away from Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and
Fred, loud thumping black music just now sounded, and
to that black leather wet bar ten to twelve paces away
from Fred and Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, one white slave
started to dance near that black leather wet bar that
showed clean mirrors to paneled wall. This 23-year-
old, white slave provocatively dancing showed as
wearing what all the slaves were wearing--that is, in
the wearing of gray cotton sweatpants, white cotton T-
shirt, white cotton socks, and white tennis shoes.
 Fred hated this loud thumping black music. Then,
the Bee Gees came on and it was Saturday Night Live.
Fred swallowed whisky. Now, 5 white slaves said as
dancing near the black leather wet bar that held clean
mirrors to paneled wall. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and
Fred naturally turned their chins and necks to see
these 5 white slaves dancing to loud music sounding
cool and up beating, and then Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
turned her chin and body to look at Fred, whilst
saying, “Fred. These guys come-on a little strong with
white chicks. So don’t be angry, alright? Just go with
the flow.”
“Yeah, but I need some fucken’ coke. You want
some whisky?”
“No thanks.”
“Pussy.”
“Thanks. You still got that joint he gave you?”
“Flare it up?”
“Good idea. Did I tell you the widows. Windows.
Are locked?”
“Yeah.”
“The steel doors.”
“What? Are you telling me, we can’t get outta’
here?”
“Just saying. I wonder if my car is alright?”
“You want me to check?”
“How are you going to get out?”
“I’ll just tell him to open the door.”
“Good idea. Ask him, when he comes back.”
“Yeah. I need some fresh air, anyway.”
“When someone gets their throat cut, how do they
die?”
“What? What type of question is that...?”
They hope of race.
Fred lit a joint, feeling normal with her.

100 minutes later, street-dressed’ and shirtless,

Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue-—that had a thick, vein-laden
black penis when erect, fourteen and one-quarter
inches; snuck up behind Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and
Fred watching TV. Even sneaking up behind her, he
couldn’t keep his black eyes off this new, broken in
white slave. She--that beautiful.

“Time to party!”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz quickly recovered from
her surprised shock to belly and mind, and turned her
American-born chin to the extreme right, and she did
so, with her right elbow leading up to that wingback
curve of the tan leather couch. To that sudden color
to her upraised eyes, she witnessed that of a wide-
grinned black man, and she said to that wide-grinned
black face looking ugly to her, “Party. Yeah. That
fireplace helps.”
That of a cold, Artic wind just now blew for two
to three seconds, and this wind howled around the
bullet-proof windows. This Victorian madhouse loved
that cold wind.
Fred; drunkenly recovering from his belly-shock’,
turned of his slender body to the extreme left, a
half-full bottle of whisky gripped in his right hand;
raised his Norman-French chin and looked at that
street-dressed’, shirtless black guy--that had said
they would ‘party, almost four hours ago. Then, Fred
heard this street-dressed’, shirtless black guy say to
his fiancée’s brown eyes, “Fred, you play poker?”
“Huh?” Fred said, drunk.
Street-dressed’ and shirtless, Earl; #27 of wing
‘Blue; standing behind Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and
Fred, took sudden step left, briskly walked around the
tan leather couch, walked forward, and then stood two
paces to the left of Fred’s fiancée. Fred heard this
shirtless black guy, say to his fiancée, “You play
poker?”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz blinked and silently
thought, “Is he talking to me or Fred?”
Fred said, “Poker? Naw.”
Fred did not like the way this wide-grinned black
man looked at his fiancée, and he breathed aloud his
answer to this street-dressed’, shirtless black man,
in drunkenly trying to impress his fiancée--that
suddenly sat to the edge of the Italian tan leather
couch, and she did so, with that of a big white smile
on her face. But it of such of Fred’s trying to
impress, didn’t sound all that impressive.
“You play chess?” Street-dressed’ and shirtless,
Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue-—that had a thick, vein-laden
black penis when erect, fourteen and one-quarter
inches; couldn’t keep his black eyes off the new,
broken in white slave. She. She. She made him do
something.
“Chess? Yeah. I play dess’. Chess.”
“I’ll play ya’ a game, for a hundred bucks.”
“Okay.”
Fred had $310 in the left pocket of his blue
jeans.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz quickly scooted back,
this, so the whole of her back may rest fully to that
of tough tan leather. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, to her
fast comfort, stared at that big TV, and she did so,
with her clean hands to her lap and the bottom of her
brand-new white tennis shoes, lightly touching the
hardwood floor. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz crossed her
arms beneath her breastplate, and then said
forcefully, “Can I check on my car?” Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz wanted to know if, if this shirtless black
man would let her out. That loud thumping black music
ceased and all of a sudden, the TV could be clearly
heard throughout this oversized living room.
She raised her chin to the left and caught his
afro glare looking down at her, and then she heard him
say, “Your car alright. After we play this game of
chess, we gonna’ party. That okay with you, Fred?”
Fred held that half-full bottle of whisky between
his lap, while saying, “Hundred bucks?”
“Yeah. Patty, you ready to party?”
“Ah. Well. I guess. Can I check on my car?”
“Sure. After this game of chess, okay?”
“Thanks,” she said.
As that of a fancy, heavy chessboard lay atop the
knee-high, polished to a gleam table that lay before
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and Fred, and being that this
knee-high table not overtly wide, street-dressed’ and
shirtless, Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue-—that had a thick,
vein-laden black penis when erect, fourteen and one-
quarter inches; and who that couldn’t keep his black
eyes off the brand-new, broken in white slave, sat on
that of a self-fetched, leather-backing white-oak
dining room chair then, he sat to the edge of this
chair--as Fred sat to the very edge of a tan leather
couch. From this, he of being a member of the Dark
Disciples proceeded to play chess with Fred. Fred lost
every cent in his pocket--as he intermittently
swallowed hard whisky while playing three games of
chess. He even borrowed $310 from his extremely
irritated fiancée, for a ‘winner take all, and lost
that, too. His fiancée, watching them become $610
poorer as a shirtless black man said ‘checkmate. And
knew she of rolling green acres of what painfully said
to come.
Fred heard ‘checkmate, and said, “Fuck.”

Fred swallowed hard whisky and was drunk. She

knew there said no escape and, they, of this Victorian
madhouse, may suddenly become violent and beat her and
Fred up, and this she feared. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
had unwillingly stored that fast picture of this black
man’s soft flesh outline behind thin pajama cloth, and
she of Suzy Q experience, knew that his black penis
told as being at least eleven inches long when hard
and maybe thick as her wrist. Street-dressed’ and
shirtless, Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue-—that had a thick,
vein-laden black penis when erect, fourteen and one-
quarter inches; and who that said as still being
seated to chair, looked directly at the brand-new,
broken in white slave. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz caught
that black man’s black beam of total lust and she
smiled that of a pure evil white smile, and she did so
smile--like that’, from knowing that time told as
being right now.
“Hank! Come on down here! I’m ready to party the
shit out of this girl! Take off two grand’ from what
you owe us.”
Finally, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz breathed in
hearing the words that she wanted to hear, paying off
that $20,000 gambling debt and getting the hell out of
this madhouse. She more than wanted out of this living
black nightmare where that black men sliced the
throats of runaways’. Fred, Fred’s 21-year-old mind,
said as being promptly confused as all hell and he
really needed a line of almost pure cocaine, to keep
his drinking alive.
“How much do I owe?” she said.
“Talk to Richard.” She nervously heard.
“Filming it?” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz wanted to
know in her seated rest to that of soft, Italian tan
leather, her thin right hip, rising up and coming to
side’s rest from her right elbow resting on the
wingback, tan leather curve that held to the back of
the couch. She rather liked the feel and smell of this
good smelling, tough couch feeling as real leather.
And way down inside, where that Suzy Q breathed, she
also said as being glad that she was still an
interracial, Midwest porno actress.
“Yeah. Hank be filming, first. Then I’s’ film.
Girl, we’s’ gonna’ film you all day long.” Street-
dressed’ and shirtless, Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue-—that
had a thick, vein-laden black penis when erect,
fourteen and one-quarter inches; couldn’t keep his
black eyes off the brand-new, broken in white slave,
she that fresh and beautiful. And said he of a member
of the Dark Disciples, to that of a comfortable, white
smiling Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, “You better let your
boyfriend know. Because you gonna’ party like you
never did before. This help pussy go.” And he of Negro
skin, now sitting to the edge of the chair that he sat
to; proceeded to dump at least six grams of almost
pure cocaine onto that knee-high, well-polished table
holding chessboard and its pieces. Within that of a
fast moment, he of the Negro, smoothly snorted a line
of almost pure cocaine, but did not offer any to Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz or Fred. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
sat to the very edge of the tan leather couch, looking
at that magnectic mound of almost pure cocaine, not
more than a fast reach away.
“Fred,” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz said soberly to
her beloved fiancée. “I didn’t want to tell you this.
But I owe Mary’s friend, twenty thousand dollars.”
“What?”
 “Listen. These guys are gonna’ film me having sex
with them.”
Fred; his back, still reclined to the tan leather
couch and sitting so with that half bottle of whisky
in his right hand gone frozen from mental shock, his
fiancée, still sitting to the very edge of the tan
leather couch; noticed that shirtless black guy that
he had played four games of chess with, called, Earl,
push back the chair that he sat edge to, stand, take a
half-dozen steps to the left, and then sit on the
buffeted hardwood-blond floor. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
quickly turned her chin to the right, seeing her
beloved fiancée’s drunken, confused face, and she took
fierce hold of Fred’s left bicep area with her
wrapping arms and grabbing hands. She did not snuggle
in close to Fred and fiercely wrap her arms around
Fred’s upper, left arm, for protection, she held him
to place, to prevent him from attacking the black man
that was going to rape her.
“Fred, darling,” she said. “It’s okay. Just sit
back!” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz shouted with her hands
violent push, forcing him to sit back with some of her
bodyweight then, she wrapped her arms tighter around
her beloved fiancée’s left bicep area, and buried her
right cheek into his left chest area. Two seconds
later, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; her arms still wrapped
around Fred’s upper left arm; sat a little straighter
and brought her left leg up and over her beloved
fiancée’s left leg area. “...Fred! Don’t spill the
whisky!”
“Huh?”
“Don’t spill the whisky! We’re going to do a
line’. Relax. That’s right baby, just relax. I got
him, yo’!”
“Huh?” Fred said, drunk.
She severly grabbed his chin with her straight
cupping, left hand, roughly using her fingers and
opposable thumb to force him to turn his head and look
right at her, her right arm, fiercely wrapped around
his upper, left arm. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz did not
want her beloved fiancée seeing that shirtless black
man just now dropping his blue jeans, and then step
out of those crumpled to floor blue jeans, stark
naked. So, she said to Fred, whilst severly gripping
his chin with her left thumb and four fingers, her
left palm, in major assist...
“That whisky smells strong, baby. It turns me on.”
Fred mechanically raised his right hand to
swallow whisky and it seemed as poetic motion the way
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz removed her gripping, left
hand away from Fred’s chin, so as he could swallow
this whisky. Thus far--that is within the last four
hours, Fred had swallowed at least twenty-two, hard
swallows of whisky. Fred was drunk. Fred fully smiled
at his beautiful fiancée. Then, Fred turned his chin
to the right and became mentally shocked. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz fiercely wrapped her arms around
Fred’s upper, left arm. “It’s alright, Fred. Just
relax,” she said, for reason.

Street-dressed’ and shirtless, Earl; #27 of wing

‘Blue; that had a thick, vein-laden black penis when
erect, fourteen and one-quarter inches; had sat on the
hardwood floor and swiftly slipped off his sneakers
and socks, seeing that brand-new white slave suddenly
wrap her arms around her boyfriend’s left arm, and
from quickly standing, he of Negro skin let fall his
blue jeans even faster, and then stepped out of these
crumpled to floor blue jeans in being stark naked. And
he did so, while hearing that brand-new white slave,
shout, ‘I got him, yo’! Naked, Earl; #27 of wing
‘Blue; that had a thick, vein-laden black penis when
erect, fourteen and one-quarter inches; seeing that
brand-new, broken in white slave severly grabbing her
boyfriend’s chin; unemotionally said aloud, “Yeah,
time to get some pussy.” This member of the Dark
Disciples knew that she did not want her boyfriend to
see him naked. This, as five white slaves neared the
two, Italian tan leather couches in knowing what soon
to happen. This brand-new white slave was now to be
painfully broken in further--that is, if, if Richard
the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; had not been painfully
stretching his hard, sixteen and one-quarter inches up
inside this brand-new white slave, then, she was now
to be painfully broken in further, for that of a
longer period of time. Naked, Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue-
—that had a thick, vein-laden black penis when erect,
fourteen and one-quarter inches; stood six paces to
the angled right of Fred, and he of wide grin,
couldn’t keep his black eyes off that brand-new,
broken in white slave, she, just that fresh and
beautiful. He of the Negro remembered when she smiled
that white smile and it of such her smile, seemed to
brighten the whole room. And so, this naked, Negro-
American male; #27 of wing ‘Blue;--that couldn’t keep
his black eyes off this brand-new, broken in white
slave, spoke while looking at Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
fiercely holding onto her boyfriend’s left bicep area.
“Fred. I’ll give you a line of coke. If you come on
over here and pet this.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz held Fred down as hard as
she could.
Fred slightly untangled his left arm from his
fiancée’s arms and sat to the edge of the tan leather
couch in being visibly drunk, in his gripping right
hand, he held that half-empty bottle of whisky. Fred
felt ready to leave and Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
fiercely grabbed the loose, tough blue jean cotton
cloth of his left bicep area, whilst she screamed,
“Fred! Sit the fuck down!”
At that moment, Hank; #28 of wing ‘Blue--that had
a thick, vein-laden black penis when erect, fourteen
inches; appeared stark naked in holding a VCR camera
atop his right shoulder area, and he of Negro skin
said to Fred, “Go ahead. If you want a line’. If not,
we can drop ya’ off someplace.”
“Huh?” Fred said, drunk, seeing those two naked
black guys, seven to eight paces to his angled right.
“Fred, baby, just relax,” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
said to Fred, and she did so, while fiercely holding
some of the cloth that held around Fred’s left bicep
area. She glanced at that approaching, naked black man
that had a VCR camera atop his right shoulder area,
then, she looked slightly to the forward left and said
to that other naked black man, “He’s alright.” She
looked right at it.
 Hank; #28 of wing ‘Blue--that had a thick, vein-
laden black penis when erect, fourteen inches; walked
to a standstill in being stark naked, and he did so in
holding a VCR camera atop his right shoulder area,
filming up-close of Earl’s semi-soft black penis. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz, Fred, and those 5 white slaves
that were standing behind the tan leather couch Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz and Fred sat to, watched as Earl;
#27 of wing ‘Blue; grabbed his own soft black penis
with his right hand, stroke it a little bit, then let
it fall in being a little thicker and visibly longer.
And all that did see, looked at that crunched up and
soft, vein-laden black penis swing from black-skinned
thigh to black-skinned thigh. Fred, still seated to
the edge of the tan leather couch, his fiancée,
fiercely holding some of the cloth that held loosely
around his left bicep area, couldn’t believe what he
breathed in seeing. Fred, feeling the bodyweight and
hands of his fiancée, telling him to sit back, but he
desperately wanted almost pure cocaine, to keep his
drinking alive. Fred drunkenly stared at that crunched
up, black penis looking as some black-colored gym
rope, and not only that, he glanced at that naked
black man that was holding a VCR camera atop his right
shoulder area. And Fred said from his shocked eyes,
“Filming? Filming this? Patty, you can’t take them. I
mean, look at ‘em, for Bhrist’ sake. Bey’. Hey! And
anyway, you ain’t doing anything my girlfriend!” Then,
drunkenly, he subconsciously thought that he had to
touch that’, to get some almost pure cocaine. Fred
fuzzily thought, “I don’t know. I really need some.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz breathed with the both of her
sober, determined hands, held onto her beloved
fiancée’s left bicep area as hard as she could,
physically, almost violently, telling her beloved
fiancée not to rise and prevent this sudden rape of
her. The least that could happen to him, if, if he
prevented, them, from raping her, said as Fred being
driven to the gas station six, snowy miles away from
this isolated madhouse. And even worse than that, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz knew that her beloved fiancée would
get beat up, if he prevented, them, from raping her.
“Fred!” She shouted sternly. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
felt her beloved fiancée un-tense his drunken muscles
and she snuggled in closer to him, so he could not
rise, and then she gathered her hands and arms more
fiercely onto Fred’s left bicep area.

Five, white slaves--that had gathered behind Miss

Patricia Olkeweitz and Fred sitting to the edge of a
tan leather couch, did so gather to where they stood,
to see better of this brand-new white slave about to
be broken in nearly all day long, and these 5 white
slaves giggled from what the new white slave’s
boyfriend, had drunkenly said. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz; fiercely holding the left bicep area of her
beloved fiancée, looked directly at that naked black
man, standing stark naked not more than six paces to
her forward, angled right, and she did so breathe in
looking with that of Suzy Q’s fast measuring eye. Suzy
Q showed that of a pure evil white smile on Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz’s fresh afternoon face free of
makeup and perfume. But, even Suzy Q grew slightly
apprehensive, seeing the thickly dangling, soft black
penises of these two black guys. It said as being
their twin-looking, crunched up vein in the middle
that gave her worry. Because, she of Suzy Q knew that
long, thick and bumpy vein would stretch out and hold
up heavy, black flesh gone aroused, to that of muscle
hardness, hardness, to splat her back and make it of
such look ugly, ugly--like it already was. To it all,
and of all things, she flashed in her mind of one of
her favorite black boys not yet seventeen years of
age. Maybe, it of such, said because of that black
boy’s catchy name, Jamie. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
subconsciously thought, “When this is over, I’ll go
down and get ‘em.” To the breath of her living black
nightmare, she noticed that each of these two black
guys, were almost as big as her devil-looking black
master, and well did Miss Patricia Olkeweitz recall
that freezing day just yesterday morning, holding the
driver side edge of her Mustang, feeling icy-crusted
snow to her gripping hands, and screaming, ‘stop, ‘I
can’t, ‘take it! And this of her saying that yesterday
morning, said from feeling four inches of her virgin
flesh, being torn further down and corkscrewed up by
the grossly huge, rock-hard black penis of her devil-
looking black master.
“Fred. Don’t you understand? I owe twenty
thousand dollars. Because of gambling.”
“Hey, man!” Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; just now
said. “You gonna’ pet this or not? You ain’t getting
any coke, if you don’t. Aw, come on, Fred. Just for a
second or two.”
“Fred. It’s up to you,” his fiancée made known,
releasing her fierce hold to Fred’s left bicep area,
knowing her beloved fiancée to be totally drunk. Fred,
seeing his fiancée sitting to the edge of the tan
leather couch, while she unthinkingly pulled off one
of her brand-new white tennis shoes, from her left
foot. “...That whisky smells strong. You want a line
of coke, right? And we really could use the money,”
she said while quickly taking off her other white
tennis shoe. Shoeless, yet cutely sock-covered in that
way, she stood fast and agile with that of a pure evil
white smile on her fresh, afternoon face free of
perfume powder makeup. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz smiled
that Suzy Q way in almost every direction for that of
a fast second or two, glanced at that naked black guy
holding a VCR camera to his right shoulder area, and
then thought to what she witnessed in this madhouse,
“Jesus, look at the size of it.” Then, she of rolling
green acres glanced at that other black man--that was
pulling on his own black-colored penis with his right
hand, and thought she further to her seeing. “...Holy,
fuck. This guy’s even bigger. I think.” She of rolling
green acres smiled that of a pure evil white smile and
swiftly Miss Patricia Olkeweitz proceeded to walk to
the left, walk around the knee-high table, kneel onto
the hardwood floor before that knee-high table and
snort up a big line of almost pure cocaine. Fred;
seeing what he near desperately wanted to do, raised
his handsome chin to the right and looked at two of
the biggest black penises that he had ever seen in his
life. Then, at that very second, Fred felt two hands
behind him roughly grab the top of his shoulders, and
he felt these hands meanly gripping the cloth of his
long-sleeved cowboy shirt, and it felt as these hands
were telling him to stand up. Naturally, he turned to
the extreme right of shoulder, his blue eyes leading
him, and heard from that gorgeous blonde behind him
looking serious and sober, “Just for a second or two.
Come on, get up, you ain’t that drunk.” Fred drunkenly
felt the back top of his shoulders being roughly
pushed forward by this gorgeous blonde behind him, and
he sat further to the edge of the couch, in saying,
“Alright! Quit with the!” The white slave kept her
toes; covered over in that of white tennis shoes;
pushing the palms of her hands so hard, she spilled
over the tan leather couch in giggling and rolling to
the right. Fred almost fell forward from being so
drunk--that half-bottle of whisky in his right hand,
lightly breaking his fall, his face, almost touching
the top of a knee-high table, the palm of his left
hand, saving him from fully stumbling. Fred did not
want to break that half bottle of whisky, but some of
the whisky did so gurgle to the hardwood floor. Fred
caught his inebriated balance with his knees and the
palm of his left hand to floor. The white slave that
had violently pushed him from behind, more than
quickly gained her balance and she and Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz helped Fred to sit on the tan leather couch,
and within two to three seconds, this white slave that
had pushed him forward, said as sitting very close to
Fred’s right side. Fred said as being drunkenly
impressed from sensing this blonde’s health. Fred
swallowed whisky then, turned his Norman-French chin
to the severe left, causing him to bring his left palm
resting fully to tan leather and sweepingly he eyed of
four, beautiful young women standing behind the tan
leather couch, looking down at him. And these very
pretty girls, all white smiles hard to read. He heard
one of these 5 white slaves, say sweetly, “Go ahead
baby, just for a second or two. You ain’t getten’ any,
until you do. It’s just us.” Fred, turning his body to
the right and still sitting to the tan leather couch,
took further comfort to the edge of this tan leather
couch, from purring words; then, seeing that naked
black man with that of a VCR camera atop his right
shoulder area; turned he his Norman-French chin to the
upraised left, seeing his fiancée being erect of
spine, and then seeing her pinch her nose with the
index finger and thumb of her left hand. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz wanted to remind him of his reward, if he
touched it. Fred heard her sniff what he wanted, and
he said to her, “Do film this? Have ta’ film this?”
Then, Fred drunkenly looked at that magnectic mound of
white powder.
In and to her shoeless stand, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz impatiently rolled her eyes, and then turned
her body slightly. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz glanced at
that cozy fireplace crackling cords of hardwood. She
got what she wanted for the moment; almost pure
cocaine. She looked at those four white slaves
standing behind the tan leather couch that her beloved
fiancée sat edge to, she looked at that white slave
sitting to the right of her beloved fiancée, and Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz, seriously thought, “My, God. She’s
beautiful.”
Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue-—that had a thick, vein-
laden black penis when erect, fourteen and one-quarter
inches; couldn’t keep his black eyes off the brand-
new, broken in white slave. Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue;
placed the pink-white palms of his black hands on his
black-colored hips, while saying aloud, “Don’t worry,
Fred. This be private collection. Patty paying off her
gambling debt.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, almost pure cocaine
dripping down her throat and still standing erect of
spine, naturally looked at this naked black man that
had said that. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz crossed the
bottom of her hands over her thin hips, her palms down
in suggestively fingering the elastic band that held
around those brand-new, gray cotton sweatpants that
she wore, and slightly swayed her thin shoulders
covered over in that of a brand-new white cotton T-
shirt, back and forth in feeling--like a little girl.
She; clothed in brand-new white cotton socks, brand-
new gray cotton sweatpants, and brand-new white cotton
T-shirt, stared at what centered on being filmed, and
her private area started to get that tingly, tickly
feeling, because, she softly breathed in standing
erect of spine without panty, her thighs beneath the
whole health of her body. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
wanted to spread back her loose vagina lips still
rosy-pink and not yet tinged of black’s color, because
Suzy Q had turned her that way. Earl; #27 of wing
‘Blue-—that had a thick, vein-laden black penis when
erect, fourteen and one-quarter inches; couldn’t keep
his black eyes off the brand-new, broken in white
slave, and looking at her boyfriend still sitting to
the edge of a tan leather couch, he said to Fred,
“...Likes’ I said, Fred. You ain’t getten’ any coke,
until you come on over here and pet this.”
He; Fred, really needed that line of almost pure
cocaine, it of such, right there, and taking a deep
swallow of whisky, scrunching his face and wiping his
Germanic lips with the back of his left wrist, he did
so stand to do, something. So standing, he gained his
drunken balance, carefully placed the half-empty
bottle of whisky atop the knee-high table that he
stood before, turned his Norman-French chin to the
left and glanced at his fiancée looking at him. Fred
heard her say, “It’s okay, babe’. Remember what I
said, just go with the flow. Fuck it! Just touch the
thing and get it over with! Then! You can have a
line’!”
“Pat. Patty, you want, you want to beave’?”
“I said! I owe these guys, twenty thousand
dollars! I’m just standing here about to! I don’t
mind! Just touch the thing! And do a line of coke!”
The white slave that had pushed Fred from behind;
and who that still sat to the right of Fred’s drunken
stand; nimbly stood and climbed over the back of the
tan leather couch, and then stood alongside four other
white slaves.
Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; spoke sweetly, a big
wide grin on his black face looking insane. “Just for
a second, Fred. Come on. You want to leave, honey?
We’re just getting started.”
“Huh?”
 “If you want to leave. Leave the bottle. Tell
him.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, said, “Fred. I can’t
leave with you.”
“Huh?” Fred said, drunk.
“If you don’t want to touch it,” she said to him.
“They’re going to drop you off. So just touch the
fucken’ thing!”
Fred, rather confused and very drunk, turned to
look at that naked black man that had his pink-white
palms on his black-colored hips, and from seeing what
he was seeing, he drunkenly said to that naked black
man, “Okay. But only for, for couple seconds.” All
this’, being filmed for people that like to watch this.
“Yeah, Fred. Come on over and pet this.”
“Yeah, Fred. Come on over and pet this,” one of
five, white slaves--that stood behind the tan leather
couch, in watching all this, said in that way, and
this one of 5 white slaves, said trying to be funny.
Which that did get fast giggles to wit from two of
these five, gorgeous, peaches-and-cream pink-white
cheek, slaves.
Fred, still standing drunk in his erect of spine,
seeing his sober fiancée shooing the back of her right
hand forward, in silently telling him to ‘touch the
thing, took his blue eyes to glancing at that mound of
almost pure cocaine, resting atop that of a fancy
knee-high table then, set his blue eyes straight at
the black thing that he had to touch ‘to get some, and
rather drunkenly walked around that knee-high table,
to do so. To that well-carved of leg, hardwood table
knee-high, there that chessboard showing white to
black’s checkmate, a half bottle of whisky, a good-
sized mound of almost pure cocaine, and a loosely
rolled up one hundred dollar bill next to that
mound’--that these people loved. And after seeing all
that, he now had his blue eyes affixed onto the
biggest black penis he had ever seen, and he glanced
at its twin, in seeing that naked black guy holding a
VCR camera atop his right shoulder area. Fred, not
seeing his fiancée quickly wiggling out of her brand-
new gray cotton sweatpants and she had no underwear on.
 Fred, in so standing in front of a naked black
man, his back, facing his fiancée and 5 white slaves
at a measure of eight to nine paces, slightly looked
up to that Negro face stupidly grinning cannibal-
looking teeth. Fred sensed that VCR camera filming
him. Fred nervously lip-smiled to that wide grin,
swallowed a little bit of spit, licked his whisky-
laden tongue through his strong flesh-pink lips, took
a half-step forward, ever so bent at the waist, if
that, and reached forward with the both of his leading
hands--like he said reaching for a baseball bat.
“Fuck, man,” he said to his two hand grip of semi-soft
black flesh. “How the fuck?” In and to his two hand
grip, Fred felt that of a deep muscle that he had
never felt before and began to inquisitively,
drunkenly, stroke down, soft black flesh by the mere
of an inch, and to that sudden, deep muscle found, he
felt that bumpy vein to the bottom of his right thumb,
stretching out, this, in not realizing that he even
did so for that of two to three seconds.
“Is that good enough? Can I have some coke now?
Please.”
“First. Pet it, Fred,” this naked black man said
to Fred, knowing all this’ to be filmed for people
that liked to watch this.
“First. Pet it, Fred.” All five of the careless,
voyeur white slaves uniformly voiced together, trying
to be funny, and they started to touch each others
cloth-covered private areas, and they did so while
looking at the back of that young, handsome white man
gripping that huge, semi-soft black penis. And as for
the erect of spine, brand-new white slave? Why that of
a brand-new white cotton T-shirt, hid her nakedness
from mid-pelvis up, and she took that thin cotton
cloth off her torso, in three seconds. Then, the
brand-new white slave stripped off her white cotton
socks one at a time, in mere seconds. Fred could not
see that his fiancée was now all naked and ready to be
raped. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz breathed in being
totally naked, and her beloved fiancée, his back
turned to her, didn’t even know it. They of nice call
girl white slaves; five all told, separately gave nods
of white smiling approval, knowing that this brand-new
white slave was trained. And sensed they these five,
young women, the snorting of a line of almost pure
cocaine to be at hand, knowing they this to be filmed
and caring less, knowing them of being slave, to soon
party with an orgy of six black men having them all
the way, nearly all day long. This naked black man,
Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; liking the way Fred’s
calloused hands were trembling and in so feeling his
black penis getting harder, looked over and eyed of
the brand-new, broken in white slave taking off her T-
shirt--as being all so sweet of white smiles
suggestive and now getting pure naked for him, in
stripping off her white cotton socks and stand erect
of spine. She of being that of a brand-new, broken in
white slave, gently threw her dark golden-brown hair
to the right and secretly air-kissed’ the black man
with that of a lip-smile of sudden depravity through
the air. This fast, silent kiss ‘through the air,
showed all her addictive pain to black ugliness, and
such of what this pretty woman did so show sweet of
afternoon face, and so what did so emanate from this
brand-new, broken in white slave’s doll face free of
perfume powdered makeup, caused the naked black man’s
black-colored penis to swell bigger and harder. Fred,
his scrawny back to his fiancée, did not know that she
breathed softly in being all naked seven to eight
paces behind him, but, he could feel what just now got
bigger and harder in the both of his lightly gripping
hands--that slightly tremble.
“Fred, you want that in your mouth?” the Negro
said.
“Fred, you want that in your mouth?” All five of
the voyeur white slaves uniformly voiced together,
trying to be funny, and they touched each others
cloth-covered private areas more provocatively, and
they of slave did so, while looking at the back of
that handsome white man, obviously gripping that of a
huge, semi-soft black penis. They of being nice call
girl white slaves, five all told, sensed an orgy of
grossly huge black penises paining them all the way,
nearly all day long.
 “You said only for a couple of seconds. Can. Can
I have that line of boke’, coke now? Please.”
“First. Squeeze it as hard as you can.”
Fred raised his Norman-French chin, hearing five
women behind him at a distance of nine to ten paces,
trying to be funny, this, in their saying of, “First.
Squeeze it as hard as you can.” Fred’s all naked and
ready fiancée, did so watch all this whilst standing
behind him, by a distance of seven to eight paces.
Fred lowered his Norman-French chin and couldn’t
believe what his blue eyes now gazed upon. The vein
all over black thing, to him, a foot long at the very
least, and he noticed as he slid his two hands down
toward that of a low hanging, black scrotum two times
bigger than his, it so felt that he couldn’t even wrap
his fingers and opposable thumbs around what he did so
grip. It now felt hard; then, Fred felt that weird
throbbing of what he held heavy and hard to his
feeling hands. “...Oh, my God!” And he let go of what
he had never felt before and watched as black-colored
weight stiffly fell long inches away from touching the
inside of this naked black man’s, upper front legs.
“Come on, Fred. Lift it back up and squeeze it.”
“Come on, Fred. Lift it back up and squeeze it.”
All five of the voyeur white slaves uniformly voiced
together, trying to be funny, and they of slave began
taking off each others slave clothing, and they did
so, while looking at the back of that handsome white
man, staring down at that of a grossly huge, totally
erect and vein-laden, fourteen and one-quarter inch,
black penis, a black penis--that bent up in the middle
a little bit. And the purple-black penis head, seemed
to be staring right up at him. Fred really wanted that
line of almost pure cocaine, and within two to three
seconds, he held that black penis--like he said
holding a baseball bat, bigger than the first time,
and said he aloud to his two hand grip, “Alright, but
this is it,” and then he squeezed real hard.
“Ah, yeah, Fred. That feel good.”
“Ah, yeah, Fred. That feel good.” All five of the
voyeur white slaves uniformly voiced together, trying
to be funny, and they did so, in now being stark naked
whilst looking at the back of that young, handsome
white man squeezing that of a grossly huge, totally
erect and vein-laden, fourteen and one-quarter inch,
black penis--that bent up in the middle a little bit.
“Squeeze it, Fred. Squeeze it as hard as you can.”
“Squeeze it, Fred. Squeeze it as hard as you
can.” All five of the voyeur white slaves uniformly
voiced together, trying to be funny, and they did so
whilst looking at the back of a handsome white man
staring down at that of a grossly huge, totally erect
and thickly vein-laden, fourteen and one-quarter inch,
black penis--that bent up in the middle a little bit.
And everyone watched Fred’s back as he got a better
grip, took a fast deep breath, and then squeeze that
of a hard black penis as hard as he could. Witnessing,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz suddenly rut for that black
penis mindlessly paining her all the way, knowing that
it of such, would deeply splat her very loose, flesh-
pink corkscrewed vagina wide open. She had seen it.
She had seen it of such, looking almost as big as her
devil-looking black master. She knew to be raped,
raped all day long by at least six black guys.
Because, two black guys were ready to rape her right
now, but she knew at least four more, maybe five more
black guys walked about this Victorian madhouse. To
the breath of her now, she knew to be raped, by at
least two of them. Raped wide open to that black pink
hole, unduplicated way to Caucasian pink looking
corkscrewed, because of that black man’s black penis
base, a black penis base that she knew would stretch
her all around at the bottom, by a resting, stroking
measure of perhaps three, innermost deep inches no
longer virgin--as of yesterday morning. Watching the
back of her beloved fiancée squeeze that of a hard
black penis as hard as he could, his arms and unseen
chest, vibrating from exertion, she mindlessly reached
down with her feeling right hand to softly rub the
outside of her flesh-pink, loose vaginal lips. Fred,
three to four seconds before, did not see her touching
herself. And thought she of rolling green acres, in
what she breathed in seeing, “I’m wet.” Knowing that
flesh-pink muscle of hers, to be painfully raped and
stretched at any moment, she easily found her erect
clitoris feeling different from that of a year ago,
surprised how stiff she felt to her hanging softness,
and stroked her right hand’s middle finger to that
what she had touched many times. Just as she touched
herself in that learned way, Fred lightly released his
hard squeezing; his hands, lightly gripping around to
what he held, and he did so, while forcefully
exhaling, “Fuck! This fucken’ thing!” Fred drunkenly
shouted this, while lightly gripping that of a grossly
huge, totally erect and vein-laden, fourteen and one-
quarter inch, black penis--that bent up in the middle
a little bit. Mindlessly, Fred still lightly gripped
his hands around that black penis and slowly slid his
lightly gripping hands down to what he lightly
gripped, his blue eyes, totally memorized on the
biggest, hardest black penis that he had ever seen in
his life. “...Fucken’ thing’s throbbing!”
“I,” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz moaned, moving her
right hand up-and-down and all around the outer parts
of her very loose vagina. “I. I cant. Believe it. I’m!
I’m! I’m cumming’! Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, yeah. Hmm.
It’s. Yeah. Hmm. I’m. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah.”
All five of the stark naked, voyeur white slaves
simultaneously clapped and gave loud cheer, and did so
as they to some mad Opera at ending play. Naturally,
Fred, hearing her shout behind him, ‘I’m, ‘I’m, ‘I’m
cumming’, let drop what he held strange in the both of
his hands, turned, and looked he to his all naked,
pleasure-faced fiancée. His jaw dropped from seeing
her nude. “What the fuck?” Fred drunkenly muttered,
greatly confused. Her lightly hair-covered Venus
mound. Her strong vibrating breasts, showing pinkish-
brown nipples. Her eyelids, free of makeup, gently
closed as her fingers and opposable thumb climaxed her
long orgasm. Her surrendered, elfin chin slack jaw to
the left, making her gently lowered eyelids, look
forever want to see abandonment’s feel. His emotions;
seeing some type of clear liquid droplets shoot out of
her vagina and that of clear liquid cascading fast
down her left, snow-white thigh--as she moaned, “Ah.
Yeah. Hmm.” Fred breathed in being more confused,
confused from consuming whisky for four hours, and he
now breathed as hearing more madness...
“Patty. Come show your boyfriend how to pet.”
“Patty. Come show your boyfriend how to pet.” All
five of the naked, voyeur white slaves uniformly
voiced together, trying to be funny. And they of slave
did so enthrall in looking at the all naked, brand-new
broken in white slave confidently walk to the left,
walk around that knee-high table not overtly wide, and
then take sober steps forward to where that of a naked
black man and Fred stood--as another naked black man
filmed all this. Fred--as said, let go of what he had
been unthinkingly gripping, and took two steps back,
seeing how determined his fiancée looked in
approaching this naked black man. Fred just wanted to
get away from that naked black man and do a line of
almost pure cocaine, plus, that half-empty bottle of
whisky sat on that knee-high table over there. To
Fred’s third step taken backwards; his drunken mind
totally confused from seeing his fiancée totally nude;
he tripped over his own feet and fell backwards onto
his back to that of a throw down rug. Five, naked
white slaves more than swiftly climbed over one of two
tan leather couches that had been placed in that of a L
shape, and within seconds, they righted Fred to stand,
and then just as fast, these 5 naked white slaves
turned, dashed to the couch, climbed over it, turned,
and stood in watching more madness unfold. He still
couldn’t believe what he was now seeing, his naked
fiancée, not more than four to five paces away, with
the palms of her hands on her thin hips, looked right
at him. A little bit of dark-brown, curt public hair
around her pretty Venus mound, showed to further eye
her private area as being rosy-colored to that of
white, smooth skin. Her lilywhite Cleopatra-sized
breasts, seen, her pinkish-brown, cherry-red nipples,
more erect than he had ever seen, and she looked--like
she could handle this black man. Fred thought that’,
seeing how she stood to the angled right of that naked
black and she seemed to be standing closer to the
black man, than she was to him. Fred knew that she
could see that black thing bending up in the middle a
little bit--as well see him, with her hands on her
thin hips. Not but twelve to fifteen seconds before,
she had been clothed. Fred was drunk. As Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz neared that close to what she had been
glancing at, she unemotionally spoke without looking
at her beloved fiancée, “Go do a line’.” And the first
thing that Fred did, said as to turn around and take
the slow, drunken step motions to snort a line of
almost pure cocaine. As he drunkenly kneeled before
that knee-high table; his back facing her and two
naked black men seven to eight paces behind him, she
had snuggled the front part of her slender left
shoulder area, into a rather flabby black chest,
suggestively nuzzled her right leg forward almost
around the leg of not all that strong black flesh, and
let this black stranger’s top right foreleg, smoothly
feel her soft Venus mound lightly hair-covered. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz kissed the right side of that near
black-colored chest bringing her in with his right
arm. She looked down with the bottom of her left arm
professionally resting to the black man’s lower back,
smiled that of a pure evil white smile, and used her
right hand to palm under that of a grossly huge,
totally erect and thickly vein-laden, fourteen and
one-quarter inch, black penis--that bent up in the
middle a little bit. From that of recent, sudden
orgasm, feeling that black man’s right arm around her,
pressing her Venus mound forward and onto brushing
rather weak black flesh around her, she rutted to be
pained all the way. Feeling the right palm of this
self-introduced black stranger, unemotionally rubbing
her palm-fitting bottom, she whispered, “Hmm. That’s
right, baby, rub my ass. Please, don’t fuck me up the
ass, with him watching.” She whispered to this heavy
feeling in her cupping, right hand. She heard the
black man, say, “Don’t worry about it.” She turned her
chin to the right, looked at Fred’s knelling back
bending over a knee-high table and heard him snorting
a line of almost pure cocaine, not more than seven to
eight paces in front of her. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
said as being glad that her beloved fiancée could not
see what she was doing and whispering, for the moment.
Fred sat back on his ankles, letting almost pure
cocaine bring his drinking to life, and he sniffed air
as hard as he could, to get that almost pure cocaine
down his throat. Suddenly, 5 naked white slaves
lightly surrounded Fred. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz knew
that these 5 naked white slaves were ready to prevent
Fred, from attacking the black man that was now going
to rape her. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz said fast in her
mind, “I better not scream, he might freak out. But
how can I help it?” Then, for the good of her
experienced balance and body movement, she stood
sideways to what her right palm cupped up to air, and
used the palm of her left hand to dramatically pet
what her right hand raised heavy and thick to air.
Looking to the right, still dramatically petting that
of a thick, vein-laden black penis fourteen and one-
quarter inches long, and doing so with the palm of her
left hand, to what she cupped in her right hand, her
spine, standing to full height, she saw her beloved
fiancée somehow rise erect of spine and turn around in
almost falling down. Five, naked white slaves quickly
caught Fred to one of standing. Again, Fred suddenly
breathed in that of mental shock, drunkenly seeing his
fiancée totally nude--as 2 naked white slaves fiercely
wrapped their arms around Fred’s upper arms, with 3
naked white slaves moving in close behind him, to
prevent him from attacking the black man that was
going to rape his girlfriend. In having five, naked
white slaves glancing at what she was doing, Fred,
staring with his mouth drunkenly open from that of
mental shock, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz glanced at the
naked black man filming this’, and then turned her
chin to the right and sweetly said to her beloved
fiancée, “Darling, it’s only a dumb porno movie. I
don’t love these guys, I love you. Fred, honey, just
sit on that couch over there and don’t drink too much.
Get ‘em on the couch, yo’!” She ended with that of a
fast, unemotional shout. Pandemonium’s fast moving
blur of nakedness and that of gentle, evil-hidden
words, greatly confused Fred’s whisky sodden brain.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz fully smiled, seeing him being
violently held of arms and loose cloth and roughly
guided along by 5 naked white slaves, and two of these
gorgeous, naked white slaves, were as tall as he was,
this, in the saying of them being 5’7’’. Debbie.
Sonja. They hope of race, I see, the best selling
kind, but, only if, if allowed by the us of what we
are. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz said as being glad that
Fred did not struggle and these 5 naked white slaves
soon had Fred sitting on that of a tan leather couch,
and then one of the three, naked white slaves that
stood in front of Fred, handed him a half-bottle of
whisky. Fred took three hard swallows’, because he was
allowed to. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; still holding in
her cupping right hand of what felt unusually heavy to
that cupping hand, the palm of her left hand, lightly
resting to the top of that black thing she lift right
hand to air; did so notice through the space of three,
naked white slaves standing in front of Fred--that one
of the five, naked white slaves, sat more than close
to the left side of her beloved fiancée, with another
naked white slave, sitting close to his right, their
rather large, lightly veined, white breasts, all over
the sides of his chest and shoulder area, their hair
shaven Venus mound, seen, and both of these naked
white slaves, fiercely held onto Fred’s arms, with
wrapping arms.
She thought, “He’s starting to like it. Look at
those bitches. O’ well, at least they’re keeping him
busy.” Just then, one of the three, naked white slaves
that were standing in front of Fred and the two naked
white slaves that had their arms wrapped around Fred’s
arms, jumped onto the tan leather couch, and began to
lightly jump up-and-down, while singing normally with
temporary, certified mad smile on her pretty face,
“Time to get broken ieeeein’. Time to get broken
ieeein’. Time to get broken ieeein’.”
Fred breathed in being drunk and really didn’t
hear the first two to three words that this lightly
jumping, naked white slave was singing. Fred was
forced further back by the two, naked white slaves
that fiercely held their arms around his upper arms,
and he heard that naked white slave to his right, say
normally, “Sit back, baby.” Fred drunkenly sensed
those two, naked white slaves standing in front of
him, roughly pushing the front part of his shoulders
back with the hard part of their sober palms, and
these 4 naked white slaves, did so do what they were
doing, to keep Fred from preventing this rape of his
skinny, yet shapely girlfriend. And that naked white
slave lightly jumping up-and-down on the tan leather
couch; still insanely breathed in singing, “Time to
get broken ieeeein’. Time to get broken ieeein’...”
Fred, being held down to that tan leather couch,
with half a bottle of whisky tightly gripped in his
right hand. Naturally, Fred had his chin to the left,
wondering about that jumping, naked girl; a bottle of
whisky tightly gripped in his right hand. And he heard
his fiancée say above that naked girl singing and
jumping up-and-down on the tan leather couch, “Fred!
Baby! Like I said, I don’t love these guys,
sweetheart! I love you! You’ll see. I’ll just go
through the motions.” Fred looked to the direction of
her sweet, gentle lowering voice, but really could not
see the whole of her, because, the two naked white
slaves that were using the bottom of their hands to
keep Fred from rising, stood erect of spine in being
in front of him, in looking down at him. The naked
white slave that had been lightly jumping up-and-down
on the tan leather couch and singing ‘time to get
broken ieeein’, stopped singing then, straddled the
wingback curve of the tan leather couch, and then she
looked right down at Fred, whilst rubbing her outer
vagina on that good feeling leather; and she looked as
gently riding that of a horse. Naturally, Fred had
turned his chin to the left because of that’ and
somehow thought, “She. She looks insane.” Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz, seven to eight paces away from
that tan leather couch, her chin turned to the right,
beheld her beloved fiancée being physically and
mentally held to that tan leather couch. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz took that of a deep breath through her nose,
exhaled through her nose, turned her chin to the left
and looked down at what her right hand cupped to air,
and whilst placing that of a wild lock of silky, dark-
brown hair behind her left ear with her left hand, she
said two notches above that of a bass whisper, “Oh, my
goodness. You’re hard. Oh.” Bringing her left hand
down from her left ear, and then using the palm of her
left hand to dramatically pet what her right hand
cupped to air, she voiced motherly, “Oh, look, it’s
like a big little puppy.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
breathed in having that of a pure evil white smile on
her gorgeous face free of powder perfume makeup. The
two, naked white slaves that were standing in front of
Fred, slightly took that of one, opposite sidestep,
this, so as Fred could watch his girlfriend about to
be raped but, they stood at the ready to attack Fred
and scratch his eyes, if, if he prevented this rape of
the brand-new white slave. Fred; still being fiercely
held around the arms by two, naked white slaves,
clearly eyed the right profile of his stark naked
fiancée, the palm of her cupping right hand, holding
up heavy black flesh looking right at him, not more
than seven to eight paces from where he sat and nearly
directly in front of him, the bottom of her left hand,
petting the thing.
“...Is that how you like to be petted? Like this?
Hmm. You want me to squeeze this? This?” She then
whispered, “This cock of yours? Hmm. Like my fiancée,
did?” Then, she said normally, “That turn you on,
baby? Yeah. You like it squeezed?” All this, being
filmed for people that like this.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz let fall that of a
grossly huge, totally erect and vein-laden, fourteen
and one-quarter inch black penis--that bent up in the
middle a little bit. The naked white slave that said
still straddling the wingback curve of the tan leather
couch, seeing that black thing fall and swing up and
then swing down, and then swing back up and then swing
down and then go up-and-down, in less measure than the
first high swing to air, did so giggle. Naturally,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz studied this swinging, up-and-
down black thing for two to three seconds, hearing
that giggling, naked white slave that was straddling
the wingback curve of the tan leather couch. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz wanted to laugh and she did so for
a second or two. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz raised her
elfin chin, stepped her right foot forward, lightly
grazed the black man’s black chest with the fingertips
of her right hand, opposable thumb, also grazing’, and
stood directly in front of a grossly huge, totally
erect and vein-laden, fourteen and one-quarter inch,
black penis--that bent up in the middle a little bit.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz was now glad that her sinewy
back said as facing her beloved fiancée--as she
unemotionally shouted fast up to the air, “You got
‘em!?”
The naked white slave that breathed in sitting to
the right of Fred, answered, “Yeah! We got ‘em! Fred,
honey baby, drink some whisky. He got, yo’!?”
“Naw,” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz said in that pure
evil way; her naked back facing Fred and five naked
white slaves, and Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s boy-
looking, tight bottom, looked snow-white perfect.
“Huh?” 21-year-old, Fred, had been that of a beer
man, and this whisky was something else.
The naked white slave that said as still
straddling the curved back of the tan leather couch,
swung her right leg over, stood to the tan leather
couch and jumped onto the hardwood floor, and insanely
she breathed as ready to jump on Fred and scratch his
eyes, if, if he tried to prevent their black master’s
black friends, from raping his girlfriend--as four
other naked white slaves, breathed in being ready to
scratch Fred’s eyes, too.
“Hmm,” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz moaned--as she
ever so slightly bent at the waist and grab what her
eyes couldn’t believe in seeing, and she did so grab
and look at it--like she held studying a baseball bat.
Rising to air that of a long, hard black penis with
her gripping hands, she stood in being nearly straight
of flesh-covered spine. Seeing that huge black penis
head, pointing directly at her lower belly, her two
hands, gripping the middle of what she held in her two
hands, she felt this black, self-introduced stranger
push forward his black-colored hips and poke her lower
belly, and it was so hard, it actually hurt her a
little. “...Oops! Hmm. Yeah, baby. You want this
inside that little white pussy, don’t you?” She
stroked of her lightly gripping hands down long, thick
black inches then, stroked back up to her middle’s
find of a good ‘baseball grip. Looking down--that of a
white smile of pure evil on her American face, her
lowered chin, making her look at that middle vein so
long, she fully smiled in her saying of, “You want me
to squeeze this? Huh? Squeeze it like my fiancée, did?
Yeah, baby.” She lightly squeezed and couldn’t believe
what she breathed in feeling. She couldn’t even wrap
her fingers all the way around it. Everyone watched as
this naked girl; Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; got a better
grip, took that of a fast deep breath, and then
squeezed that of a hard black penis muscle as hard as
she could. Holding her breath, her smooth arms
vibrating from exertion whilst holding her breath, her
Cleopatra-sized breasts, lightly jiggling from chest’s
exertion, she squeezed as hard as she could for one,
two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine
seconds, and then forcefully exhaled, “Whew!” Inhaling
through her nose and mouth as if she exercising, she
fleetingly smiled that of a pure evil white smile, and
shouted, “Fuck! This muther’ hard as all shit!”
All five of the naked, voyeur white slaves
quickly clapped in different measure and gave loud
cheer--as they to some mad Opera house at ending play.
Fred sat there in looking at what she was doing and
saying. He; Fred; had not had sex for five days, and
even though he was drunk, his penis said to its
maximum four and one-quarter inches. Fred placed his
left palm between his clothed lap area, a half-empty
bottle of whisky gripped in his right hand, also
between his lap area, and Fred was now being fiercely
gripped of arms, white breasts squashed to his left
and right, seemingly, holding him down. Not more than
two to three seconds after Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s
shout, Fred heard from that naked blonde--that now had
her arms wrapped around his right arm. “Don’t worry,
Fred, your girlfriend ain’t gonna’ do anything. Drink
some whisky.” Fred took a swallow of whisky, because
he was allowed to. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz took to
feeling her two hands still being magnetically held to
that black penis, and glanced over her right shoulder
area, to make sure Fred was being held down. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz turned her chin to the left, looked
down, and mindlessly stroked on that grossly huge,
totally erect and thickly vein-laden, fourteen and
one-quarter inch black penis--that bent up in the
middle a little bit. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz stroked
her gripping hands down the black man’s black penis,
the bottom of her fingers on the bottom of it, the
bottom of her opposable thumbs on the top of it, and
she did so, in not even being able to wrap her fingers
and thumbs around what she gripped, and then took that
of a firm grip to the thick base of a grossly huge
black penis. And she did so whilst shouting with that
Suzy Q look on her face, “Fred! Be cool! It’s alright!
Just sit there for a minute! I’ll be right over!”
“Huh,” Fred said, drunk.
Then, she whispered up to the black man in front
of her, in having that pure evil white smile on her
gorgeous face so perfectly white and flesh-pink rosy.
“...I. Oh, God. You’re throbbing. In my hands.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt quivering in her
hands, heard the black man’s low moan, and looked up
to see black flesh cover over black eyes. “...Oh,
honey, you’re gonna’ cum’, aren’t you? Fred!” she said
in that way, not even looking at her beloved fiancée
sitting seven to nine paces behind her. “Do another
line’, if you want to! Then go get one of those
mattresses on the floor, over there! And get a couple
of pillows, too!” Because he was allowed to, Fred felt
ten hands roughly helping him to stand, and these
hands guided Fred to the right, and then guided him
around that knee-high table. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
kept stroking that of a hard, fourteen and one-quarter
inch black penis, but she did stop stroking’ to turn
her naked body a little to the right, to look straight
down her right shoulder area, and she did so, to make
sure Fred did not attack the black man that was going
to rape her. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz eyed the back of
her beloved fiancée kneeling onto the hardwood floor,
to snort some almost pure cocaine that lay atop that
knee-high table. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, seeing
three, naked white slaves dash ankles to fetch a
mattress. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, seeing one, naked
white slave dash ankles to the oversized kitchen. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz moved her left foot to where she
had it, not but four to five seconds ago. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz turned her chin to the left, looked
down, and began stroking her hands, to what felt as
that of a hard baseball bat. Fred; his cloth-covered
back to his naked fiancée; kneeled before that knee-
high table, somehow rolled up a hundred dollar bill,
and deeply snorted almost pure cocaine right from the
center of that small pile’. Fred, somehow hearing his
fiancée say, “Oh, God, look at you. You’re as big as.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz suddenly realized that she
forgot the name of her devil-looking black master--
that had his black thing up inside her painfully
contracting vagina, yesterday morning then, she
remembered. “...As Richard is.” Then--as she reversed
her hands and got a good grip in having the bottom of
her thumbs to the bottom of it, she talked low so as
her beloved fiancée could not hear her. “Here, baby,
let me. Put it in my mouth a little.” Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz lightly bent over and brought what throbbed
hard in the both of her tightly gripping hands, to her
wide opened mouth. “...Hmm. Oh, yeah. Hmm. It’s so
big. I can’t, put it in my mouth. Shit.” Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz now wanted this naked black man to spray
sperm in her mouth and all over her face, because she
now grew worried from her lips, tongue, and hands
feeling just how long and thick it really was.
That of a mere seven to eight seconds before she
had said ‘I can’t, ‘put it in my mouth, ‘shit, Fred
had been brusquely guided around the knee-high table
by 5 naked white slaves, and he heard gentle, motherly
words to stay, ‘cool, and other words such as, ‘she
ain’t gonna’ do anything. Because he was allowed to,
Fred had kneeled before that knee-high table, his
clothed-covered back to his fiancée, somehow rolled up
a hundred dollar bill, and then he had snorted as hard
as he could right from the center of a low pile of
almost pure cocaine. As he sat back onto the left side
of his ankles, he sniffed air hard. Fred, in his
standing erect of spine, pinched his nose with his
left hand and sniffed hard, again. Fred; with that of
a dumb grin on his drunken face, thought that he could
now drink all day, subconsciously feeling that he was
not holding that bottle. Fred, his standing back
facing six to seven paces away from Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz’s slightly bent over back. Fred; not seeing
his fiancée silently sucking on the end of that black
man’s, black-colored penis; was now handed that almost
empty bottle of whisky, by the white hand of a
gorgeous blonde that moved chest close in front of
him, a knee-high table, inches from the back of her
knees. Fred noticed that this naked girl was now
rubbing the front part of her sexy, bone curvy pelvis,
onto his jean-covered, private area. “Thanks,” he said
to beautiful teeth smiling kiss close. Her breath
smelled wonderful. Fred, hearing her sweetly say,
“You’re welcome. That shit get you going, baby?”
“Huh? Ah. Yeah. It’s good dit’. Shit.” Fred was
shy, she was standing naked in front of him and she
said as being beautiful blonde long-legged.
Fred did not know that his fiancée, six to seven
paces behind him, was silently sucking on the end of a
black man’s, black-colored penis. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, her back, still slightly bent forward, her
two hands, held around the middle of a hard black
penis fourteen and one-quarter inches long, ceased of
her silent sucking, and peeked around her right hip.
Seeing the back of her beloved fiancée, his unseen
face, talking to that beautiful, naked blonde, she
turned to look down at what she tightly gripped in her
hands, studied what she tightly gripped in her hands,
subconsciously noted that she could not wrap her
fingers all the way around it, and then opened her
mouth as wide as she could, with her eyelids tightly
closed.

“I hear you play chess?” the naked white slave

said to Fred, she, seeing the back of Fred’s bent
over, naked girlfriend. This naked white slave,
knowing that his girlfriend silently sucked on the end
of a black penis--that she knew was at least thirteen
to fourteen inches long. And she to Fred’s face smiled
that of a pure evil white smile.
“Yeah.” And right behind him, six to seven paces
away, his fiancée silently sucked on the end of a
black-colored penis. Not only that, she was being
filmed by a black man that had no clothes on.
“We’ll play a game, tomorrow. Drink up. Let’s see
how much you can drink, at one time.”
Fred swallowed gulp after gulp of whisky, until
that bottle was dry. That gorgeous, naked white slave;
standing in front of him by the mere of a half a-pace,
a knee-high table behind her; smiled that of a pure
evil white smile, and she blew hot, clean breath onto
his lips. “Why don’t you take your clothes off?”
“Huh? Ah. I don’t know.” Fred took a step back
from this naked white slave, and she of slave took a
step forward in being right in his handsome face.
She spoke hotness to Fred’s Germanic lips, “I
don’t mind, I suck. Kiss good. Henry said he likes
you. What do you want to talk about?”
“Huh?”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I bon’t’. Don’t know. You like computers?” Fred
talked drunk.

Meanwhile, three naked white slaves had swiftly

of silent ankle to hardwood floor, gotten that of a
springy mattress and two pillows. Within seconds, one,
naked white slave took that empty bottle from Fred’s
right hand and handed Fred a fresh bottle of whisky,
and she breathed in being as beautiful as his fiancée.
Fred; knowing not that big, springy mattress ready for
his fiancée to be raped on, a fresh bottle of whisky
gripped in his right hand; had sudden urge to turn and
look at the face of his fiancée. Fred smiled that of a
white smile, looking down at that blonde’s private
area, and glanced at that very curvy brunette that had
handed him a fresh, opened bottle of whisky, a
brunette that said, “You like computers?” Fred was
just about to say that he likes to make computer video
games, when suddenly, these two naked white slaves
that stood in front of him, took fast steps and
fiercely wrapped their arms around Fred’s upper arms,
and he unwittingly enjoyed the feeling of strong,
white breasts to that area where such could be felt
through cloth. Fred felt these two, naked white slaves
roughly grabbing his biceps and pushing him to the
angled right a little.
Fred heard, “This way, baby honey.” And then, ten
hands were now holding him in different manners. With
a fresh bottle of whisky tightly gripped in his right
hand, he said as being roughly guided forward. Fred
still did not see his fiancée slightly bent over
whilst she silently sucked on the end of a black-
colored penis. Five, naked white slaves, roughly
guided Fred to walk around the knee-high table, and
one of these white slaves shouted, “Fred! Sit down!”
“Huh?” Fred said, drunk, now fuzzily seeing what
his fiancée was doing nine to ten paces to his
forward, angled right. Fred eyed his love’ raise her
head a little, that naked black man that he had been
playing chess with for money, lordly standing in front
of her with his hands on his hips, and Fred noticed
where her moving, up-and-down elbows were, her little
bottom, looking right at him. Again, Fred said as
being in that of mental shock, seeing that little
bottom of hers lower down a little, seeing her
slightly bent over with her head fully raised, her
slowly moving, up-and-down elbows, obvious. Fred,
subconsciously feeling those fiercely wrapping arms of
those two, naked white slaves to the left and right of
him, heard his fiancée sternly shout without looking
at him, “Fred! Listen to them! If. If you don’t!
They’ll beat you up! And drop you off! Without me! So
just be cool!” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz lowered her
chin, studied what she tightly gripped in her two
hands, opened her mouth as wide as she could, went
down as far as she could, and then began loudly
sucking on the end of a black man’s black-colored
penis. This, in her sounding as, “...Hmm. Hmm. Hmm.
Awoahh. Hmm. Ahh. Oh, my God, it’s so big. Awoohmm.”
Three to four seconds later, Fred heard that pulling
of sucking lips, pop noise. The naked white slave that
fiercely had her arms wrapped around Fred’s left arm,
fell straight back to the tan leather couch, forcing
the left side of Fred’s body to fall back to the left,
with her, but the other naked white slave that had her
arms fiercely wrapped around Fred’s right arm, also
fell straight back to the tan leather couch, and these
two, naked white slaves laughed insanely--as they
roughly held Fred down in sudden frolic. Fred, tightly
gripping a fresh bottle of whisky in his right hand,
sensing that a lot of whisky had been spilled from
that bottle’s opening, heard those words, ‘beat up,
‘dropped off, and ‘without me. Fred said as being
pressed back to the fine, tan leather couch, two,
naked white slaves, fiercely wrapping their arms
around his upper arms, this, from these 2 naked white
slaves, being to the left and right of his drunken
selfhood. Three, naked white slaves, stood ready in
standing directly behind the tan leather couch Fred
and these two, naked white slaves sat to. All five of
the naked white slaves, looked at what Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz was doing over there, and it did so appear
as these five, naked young women were watching that of
a live picture event. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s past
apprehensions of being raped all day long by black
guys, well-founded. For as she released from her
tightly gripping hands stroking that of a long,
thickly vein-laden, hard black penis, her pink-red
lips and mouth entire, giving one last long sucking
pull on that of a grossly huge black penis head,
breathing normally, raising her flesh-covered spine to
resting measure of her naked stand then, willingly
taking short steps not familiar, she stepped her bare
feet onto that of a dry, big springy mattress past
placed by white slaves. Fred, a fresh bottle of whisky
tightly gripped in his right hand, felt the two, naked
women; a blonde and a brunette; sitting more than
close to the left and right of him, and did so these
two, naked girls take serious hold of his upper arms.
Fred felt the hands of two, naked white women grabbing
the top of his shoulder area then; he felt the top,
back part of his loose cowboy shirt being meanly
gripped. All five of these naked white women, somehow
pressing him down as hard as they could, and it felt
to Fred--that these beautiful white women, were
holding him as some type of prisoner. Fred breathed in
being drunk, feeling strong, sober hands holding him
down, almost pure cocaine, dripping down his throat.
Then, he heard that of a sweet voice behind him, say,
“Can I have some?” This, as his fiancée stepped her
bare feet onto that springy mattress, not more than
seven to eight paces to his forward, angled right.
Fred; subconsciously glad that someone else
wanted to drink with him, turned his chin to the left,
because he was allowed to, and handed the fresh bottle
of whisky to that reaching hand looking clean. Fred
somehow noted that he seemed to be allowed to move his
body to the left. Fred did not see what his fiancée
was doing, at that moment, for Fred said as looking at
that pretty Venus mound completely shaven of public
hair, and it of such sired by hope of race, nearly
right in front of his blue eyes. “Jesus,” he said in
that of drunken awe, really seeing how clean and
pretty this private area looked. To the glance, her
Venus mound really did say as being picture perfect to
Fred. Fred could see her dark-pink slit--that short,
drooping, resting clit seen as colored rosy, from the
warmth that held to the oversized living room. The
red-bricked fireplace roared high flame, the radiator
grills, on full blast, and now, the 5 naked white
slaves were sexually excited, they sensed snorting a
line of almost pure cocaine to be at hand, and then
they would be raped nearly all day long. But first
things first, and that was to break in the brand-new
white slave. As said, Fred could see her dark-pink
slit--that short, drooping, resting clit seen as
colored rosy, looking much as his fiancée’s. Fred; a
bottle of whisky now handed back to his right hand,
looked up at that white smiling, beautiful white
blonde, 2 naked white slaves, separately standing to
the left and right of this naked blonde, and the long
blonde hair of this naked white slave, a total mess
and wild-looking, but it of such, made her look
sexually animalistic--as her strong white breasts,
with pink, dark cherry-red nipples that white with
excite, looked the twin of his fiancée’s Cleopatra-
sized breasts. Fred returned that white smile looking
down at him, with that of a drunken grin. Fred, with
that drunken grin on his face, looked at the biggest,
roundest blue eyes, he had ever seen, she, hope of
race. Fred did not know that this smiling, blue-eyed
blonde, had been that of a smooth dancer in some
Kansas go-go bar seventeen months ago; this go-go bar
out in the prairie, owned by the Dark Disciples; nor
did he know that she had been that of an interracial,
Midwest porno actress. But what he did know is that
she looked beautiful and even seemed a little sweet.
Fred liked the way she wiped whisky off her pink,
natural lips, with the back of her left wrist. Fred
looked down at her Venus mound shaven of public hair,
and he heard that brunette standing to the left of
that naked blonde, say, “He’s really looking at you.”
And that blonde from Kansas said, “Fred, if you be
cool, I’ll suck. Kiss, you down there, later.”
“Huh?” Fred said, drunk.
“Just be cool, and I’ll ask if you can have a
line’.”
“Yeah.” Fred turned his chin and the main of his
body to the right and eyed of his fiancée standing on
a springy mattress. How could he not see what she was
doing, it of such, eight to nine paces to his forward,
angled right. Fred was drunk. Fred was going to stand
and do, something. Fred felt fiercely gripping hands
to the left, to the right, behind him, seemingly, to
him, holding him down with all their might. Fred heard
one of these naked women say, “Be cool, Fred. She
alright. She ain’t gonna’ do nuthin’.” Fred mindlessly
gripped that fresh bottle of whisky in his right hand.
He glanced at that mound of white powder atop that
knee-high table before him, and he wanted that’ all
for him. And truly, from being so drunk, almost pure
cocaine dripping beyond his throat, he felt as he
could not move from that of mental shock, a whirl of
white nakedness and stationary black nakedness,
causing pandemonium to his 21-year-old mind. Seeing
her ready to lie down on that mattress over there,
Fred somehow felt parts of his loose cowboy shirt,
being meanly gripped, 2 naked white slaves--that were
sitting to the left and right of him, fiercely
wrapping their arms around Fred’s upper arms, holding
him down. Fred, feeling strong breasts from the left,
the right. Fred felt the back of his collar being
meanly gripped and violently pulled back. Fred felt as
he suddenly choking, from the top button of his cowboy
shirt, pressing hard up to the bottom of his Adam’s
apple, and he shouted, “Hey! Watch the, neck!” Fred
felt that mean grip to the back of his collar, being
loosened, but that light grip, still there. Fred heard
that naked blonde sitting to the right of his drunken
selfhood; her arms, fiercely wrapped around his right
arm, say, “I’ll ask to give you a line’, if you take
your clothes off. What? You got small dick? I don’t
care. I’ll suck. Kiss it, slow.”
“Huh.”
The naked white slave sitting to Fred’s left,
said, “He shy. Don’t worry Fred, your girlfriend ain’t
gonna’ do anything. Drink up. You’ll get some, later.”

She noticed dry sperm stains nearly all over this

big mattress. Sensing the good springs of this big
mattress, she felt as to jump up-and-down a little
bit, instead, she lightly tested the feeling strong
springs of the mattress, by pushing the bottom of her
feet up-and-down, and then she mindlessly thought,
“This feels nice.” And to that feeling, she laid her
knees to this springy mattress, turned her thin,
shapely hips to the left, and then lay back on that of
a big, springy mattress--that had dry sperm stains and
dry stains of clear liquid past falling out of slaves’
vaginas. On her back, naked, she raised her pressed
together legs and rested the bottom of her feet to the
springy mattress, her inner knees, tightly pressed
together. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, feeling those two
pillows behind her head and neck, brought her knees up
a little further to that of an extreme, upraised,
angled position, her skinny, yet shapely legs, still
pressed together at the knee, the bottom of her feet,
resting to the strong, springy mattress. She thought
from her supple back feeling comfortable, “...This
isn’t too bad. At least I can stretch out.” She didn’t
know what do with her arms, suddenly feeling
embarrassed that her Cleopatra-sized breasts said as
being exposed and strongly vibrating to rest. The warm
air from that huge fireplace blazing high flame,
radiator grills, on full blast, making the stiff tips
of her pinkish-brown, dark cherry-red nipples white
with excite. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, suddenly felt
embarrassed that her Cleopatra-sized breasts said
exposed and jiggling to rest, embarrassed, because of
the black eyes of that black man standing on the
hardwood floor, to the foot of the big, springy
mattress, a black man that greedily looked down at her
whole body trying to hide. She couldn’t even remember
the name of this black man that was now going to rape
her. Well did she notice this black man, standing on
the hardwood floor and to the foot of the springy
mattress, looking down at her while stroking his own
black-colored penis with his right hand. She looked at
his swinishly grinning face and thought, “Christ. He’s
an ugly fucker’. O’ my, God. Look at the size of his
dick.” Seeing what she breathed in seeing, her pink
brown, dark cherry-red nipples white with excite. She
turned her chin to the left, and then eyed of her
beloved fiancée forcefully stand from the tan leather
couch, and he did so, with a bottle of whisky gripped
in his right hand.
“Shit,” she hissed in anger. She turned her chin
to the right; 2 pillows behind her head and neck, and
looked at that naked black man standing on the
hardwood floor, to the foot of the mattress. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz sensed that Fred thought to prevent
this rape of her, and quickly said to those black eyes
grinning swinishly, “He might come over.” She more
than noticed that this naked black man was stroking
his own black-colored penis. All this, being filmed
for people that liked this.
“That’s right, Fred! Come on over and watch this
shit!” Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; shouted, standing on
the hardwood floor, in being to the foot of that
springy mattress. And he of being #27 of wing ‘Blue,
did so while looking down at Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
with the back of her head and neck, resting to two
pillows, the bottom of her healthy-looking feet,
nervously pressed to the springy mattress, her angled
legs, tightly closed at the knee, the back of her doe-
like ankles, trying to hide her private area, her
arms, crossed over the chest, trying to hide her
Cleopatra-sized breasts.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; on her back, her skinny,
yet shapely legs--that way’, a big springy mattress
beneath her back, 2 pillows to the back of her head
and neck, stared up to the timbered, high ceiling and
bellowed loudly from her chest, “Fred! Be cool! Just
do what he says!”
“Huh?” Fred said, drunk.
“Just do what he says!” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz,
staring at that timbered, high ceiling, shouted this,
and then took that of a deep breath through her nose,
exhaled loudly through her impatient lips, and then
let Fred know, “I’ll be over there! In a minute!” Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz lowered her brown eyes, and then
eyed of that naked black man standing on the hardwood
floor, to the foot of the mattress, stroking his own
black-colored penis with his right hand, his palm,
looking pink-white to his black hand. From this her
seeing, she whispered to herself, “Jesus.” Then, she
worriedly said to no one, “What the fuck?”

She nervously watched in her embarrassed

comfort--as her beloved fiancée said as being
violently grabbed of his upper arms, by the sober
hands of two naked white slaves, standing close to the
left and right of him. Immediately, the 3 naked white
slaves that had been standing behind the tan leather
couch, clambered over the back of that tan leather
couch, stood high to tan leather cushions, and then
bent their backs, in grabbing what they could of
Fred’s loose cowboy shirt. Fred felt the collar and
top part of his loose cowboy shirt, being meanly
gripped. The two, naked white slaves, fiercely holding
his arms, violently guided Fred to the left and around
the knee-high table, and meanwhile, three naked white
slaves nimbly jumped off the tan leather couch and
meanly grabbed the loose cloth that held to the top
area of Fred’s cowboy shirt, all five of these naked
white slaves, violently pushing him forward. The naked
white slave fiercely wrapping her arms around Fred’s
right arm, sweetly said to Fred, “Be cool, Fred.
Honey. Baby. We’ll do a line’, later. Don’t worry.
You’re girlfriend ain’t gonna’ do anything. We girls
just wanna have fun.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, saying, “Fred! Just
listen to her! I told you! They’ll beat you up, if you
don’t! If you hurt! Push those girls! They’ll press
charges! Please! I’ll be over there, in a minute!” She
knew that these slaves would not press charges. She
knew that if Fred pushed one of them away then, four
of these 5 white slaves would jump on Fred and try to
hold him down, until one of her black master’s black
friends punched Fred in the face then, maybe kick him
in the face, kick him in the face, until he was bloody
unconscious. She knew Fred would then be taken to a
gas station’s dirty bathroom and laid to the filthy
floor. She knew that when someone found him
unconscious in that dirty bathroom, the police called,
Fred, in the emergency ward, telling a police officer
that he was beat up by some black guys living in a
Victorian’, the police, coming to this Victorian
madhouse to investigate, she would say to the police
officer on the front porch of this Victorian madhouse,
‘never heard of the guy. Because, she did not want her
throat cut.

All five of these naked white slaves, breathed in

being ready to scratch Fred’s eyes, if, if he
prevented their black master’s black friends, from
raping his girlfriend. These 5 naked white slaves knew
they could push Fred down, and then let one of their
black master’s black friends, punch him in the face
then, maybe kick him in the face. But, Henry the
flaming faggot, rather enjoyed Fred’s well-learned
tongue, so, they of being a small part of wing ‘Blue;
the whole of wing ‘Blue, numbering 76 Negro-American
males; took it easy with Fred, this, in that they
would not kick him in the face but, he might be
punched in the face, if absolutely necessary. Fred
felt the fiercely wrapping arms of two, naked white
slaves that looked as they guarding him; guarding him
from suddenly attacking their black master’s, 2 black
friends. Three, naked white slaves--that bunched up
close behind Fred in fiercely holding some of the
cloth of his loose cowboy shirt. These five, naked
white slaves, violently guided Fred to stand five to
six paces behind the naked black man that was standing
on the hardwood floor in being to the foot of that
big, springy mattress, a naked black man that lordly
stroked his own black-colored penis, with his right
hand. Fred shouted at the naked white slave to his
right, “Hey! Take it bleazy’, would ya’!” Fred, a
bottle of whisky gripped in his right hand, did not
want to spill anymore whisky. Fred knew that he was
too drunk to fight seriously. Suddenly, he gritted his
teeth in anger, noticing how that black man did not
even turn around, turn around, to say, do something,
at least. Fred sensed that black man was grinning with
chin raised high, grinning, looking, looking as he
some type of lord-and-master while he causally
masturbated in front of his fiancée lying naked on a
big mattress. The 5 white slaves sensed that Fred was
ready to attack one of their black master’s black
friends, and Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue, just now looked
down at Fred’s fiancée, while stroking his own black-
colored penis with his right hand.
“Fred, honey baby.” Fred heard one of these 5
naked white slaves sweetly say this. “She said she
doesn’t love these guys, she loves you.”
“Huh?”
“Drink up,” he heard one of five, naked white
slaves say, and they were holding him as he some type
of prisoner. Fred was allowed to gulp gulps of whisky.
Fred; seeing the back of that naked black man five to
six paces in front of him; more than knew that this
black man was slowly masturbating in front of his
fiancée. Five, naked white slaves fiercely held onto
Fred, helping him to regain his drunken balance.
Suddenly, he heard one of these five, naked white
slaves say to his right ear, “Your girlfriend owe
twenty thou’. She gonna’ fuck it off. Watch.”
 “Huh?” Fred said, drunk.
Fred heard his fiancée shout, “Fred! Be cool!”
Fred felt the top of his Nordic, blonde hair
being lightly held.
“Remember. Grab his neck, if you have to. Now,
Fred, don’t do anything stupid. She don’t love these
guys, she loves you. Why don’t you take your clothes
off, yo’? You can do a line of coke, if I can suck
your dick, later. Please.”
“Huh?” Fred said drunkenly, pandemonium, the
hands of five, naked white slaves, seemingly holding
him up. Fred somehow swallowed another gulp of whisky.
His penis, now soft.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz had never felt
embarrassment in being naked in front of her beloved
fiancée, but this time, she did. For the last five to
seven weeks, she always had sex with Fred in the dark,
because, she did not want him seeing what 16-year-old,
Jamie and his six, black boy friends had done to her
vulgarly said, ‘pussy, not to mention those 3 black
guys that plowed her once a week. And to it all, she
had been that of an enthusiastic, interracial, Midwest
porno actress. She kept her smooth legs closed at the
knee, in that of an upraised angle, the back of her
ankles, trying to hide her private area, the bottom of
her feet, planted to that big, springy mattress nearly
covered in dry sperm stains. Seeing that naked black
man take his left, bare foot to the big, springy
mattress, she smoothly slid down her skinny, yet
shapely legs and kept these straight legs severly
pressed together at the knee and tensely at rest, and
she did so, because she breathed in being embarrassed
that her beloved fiancée, stood not more than five to
six paces away, from the bottom of her bare feet. She
moved her head resting to that of 2 pillows, to the
right, and she did so, to peek around the naked black
man that just now rested his right knee to this
springy mattress--that she lay to, then, she felt that
left knee of his, smoothly land to this mattress well
of spring. In having his kneeling knees, black-skinned
body to the near middle of this mattress near covered
in dry sperm stains, he of the Negro kneeled forward
between her raising up in the air, spreading legs,
this, as she still peeked to the right of that left,
black-skinned leg kneeling upright. With her legs up
in the air and lightly spread open, her head peeking
around the left leg area of the black man kneeling
between her unmoving, spread legs, she eyed of five,
naked young women, violently holding her beloved
fiancée as he some mad prisoner. Not even realizing
that she had spread her smooth, white legs up in the
air, she thought about Fred, and she did so, with the
back of her head and neck wanting to feel that of 2
pillows. “He can’t even stand up.”
Fred, five to six long paces away from the foot
of that big, springy mattress on the hardwood floor,
took another deep swallow of whisky, because, he was
allowed to. Fred, gripping a bottle of whisky in his
right hand, looked directly at his fiancée peeking
around that black man kneeling between her rising up
in the air, spreading legs. Fred, seeing her peeking,
brown eyes as she spread her legs, and she kept those
legs spread and unmoving as some trained animal. The
way she just kept her legs spread up in the air, to
Fred, looked mechanical--as if, as if she had done so
before, many times. Fred eyed her moving her head to
hide from him. Fred felt mean hands grip him, it
seemed, all over. Fred heard one of the 5 naked white
slaves, say, “Fred. Please. Please, let me suck. Kiss
your dick.”
“Huh?” Fred said, drunk.
“I’ll ask him, to give you a line’, if I can suck
your dick, later.”
Then, he took another deep swallow of whisky,
because he was allowed to. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
crossed her fidgety arms over her flesh-white belly,
the bottom of her hands to her upper, thin hips, and
slightly she wiggled these thin hips of hers around,
and felt the front, bottom part of her little rear
feeling that mindless feeling to springy mattress.
That flesh between her two flesh holes, now felt that
soft feeling, her mind, knowing she to be deeply
corkscrewed, at any moment. She did not want to
scream, Fred might ‘freak out. She of rolling green
acres ever so spread her legs wider by the mere of an
indiscernible inch. She stared right at it. “Shit.
What the fuck?” she whispered in worry, thinking about
what she thought about. Beauty first glance seen
stared right at it and she started to tickle her
private area with the fingertips of her hands, her
opposable thumbs, in moving assist, her palms, forcing
her to feel soft below her model bellybutton, her slim
legs, spread up in the air and unmoving. Because, she
fearfully, yet softly breathed in staring right at it.
Feeling soft, curt hair that lay trimmed to the top of
her outer, clean vagina, she further forced herself to
feel soft. Her feeling to all this, one of knowing to
be raped, and then she thought, “Fuck man. Is he hard
or soft?” Mindlessly smiling that of a white smile of
pure evil, she sensed to her sense to this pure evil
white smile--that of this naked black man grabbing the
back of her knees and spreading her legs back, even
further. He of black eyes, looked down at that rosy-
pink flesh cracking open, a corkscrewed, black hole
surrounded by pale-red flesh, perfectly bordered to
that of snow-white flesh. He looked at that Venus
mound of hers, perfect to look at. She felt this naked
black man release his unemotional hold to the back of
her knees, and she kept her legs spread up in the air
and unmoving, from being trained by the black man.
“Oh, yes,” she whispered, lowering her eyelids
for that second or two. Suzy Q had forced Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz to lay with black men, and Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz had her skinny, yet shapely legs
spread up in the air, because of that. Fred; in having
meanly gripping hands all over him, heard that female
voice behind him, say, “Get ready, he might freak out!
Like the last one’!” And he heard this, while feeling
that of a strong, female hand coming over his right
shoulder, to violently cup the bottom of his chin, and
fiercely hold that chin with her fingers and opposable
thumb. And that naked white slave that meanly grabbed
Fred’s Norman-French chin with her fiercely grasping,
cupping right hand, slid her left arm over Fred’s left
shoulder, in being ready to choke Fred with her left
arm. This naked white slave; now all set and ready to
protect her black master’s black friends; violently
shook Fred’s Norman-French chin with her cupping,
right hand, and then she shouted to the back of Fred’s
right ear, “Come on! Watch this shit!”
“Huh?” Fred looked directly at the inside of his
fiancée’s skinny, yet shapely calves dangling vigor,
her toes, lightly curled with her snow-white legs up
in the air and comfortably spread. He really could not
see all of her inside thighs well known, because--that
naked black man said as being kneeling between those
thighs. Her eyelids, free of makeup; he could not see,
the unheard wind outside, telling of sudden, outside
freezing calmness to snow falling heavier. The
fireplace poured out heat, the radiator grills, on
full blast. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz mentally lowered
her mind becoming mindless to that nice pillow feeling
to the back of her head and the back of her neck, her
lower spine, loving those tough springs of this big
mattress. And to that what this American girl had come
to learn, she felt she may as well enjoy being raped
whilst being filmed dirty, to pay some of that
gambling debt off. She heard ‘crimson and clover,
‘over and over. Then she heard that beautiful music
that she knew. That of a white slave, had turned on
the hi-fi stereo, and that’s where the song started,
at the end. Then, loud thumping, black music started.
Her near dime-sized, pink-flesh black hole--that
loosely slack bottom up to drooping red flesh-color
clitoris top, showed vaginal pink lips looking pale-
red, the shiny, slick pink bottom of her flesh-pink
vaginal muscle, and of what this private flesh went
further down to eye seeing her ready--that of a wet-
looking, one quarter-inch deep corkscrewed, pink-red
flesh hole, which came to that of a wrinkly closing to
that of tough, red-pink vaginal walls partially seen
and looking corkscrewed. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
greatly relieve that her beloved fiancée could not see
her winged back pinkness looking grossly corkscrewed.
For as said, for the last five to seven weeks, she had
sex in the dark with her beloved fiancée and she did
so, so as Fred could not see what 16-year-old, Jamie
and his six, black boy friends, had done to her vagina
hole, on the very same bed that she and her beloved
fiancée slept on. To say, Fred had slept on their bed
at night and she mostly slept on their bed, during the
day. Not to mention all those black guys that worked
for Adult World Productions, and just as much, she had
been getting plowed once a week, by three black guys.
And when Fred did so happen to see her vagina lips
hanging down loosely, she had always said, ‘what do
you expect, ‘from a stud like you. Now, to the breath
of her living black nightmare, she suddenly gladdened
that her beloved fiancée could not see what blacks’
had done ugly to her.
She thought, “O’ God, he’s going to watch me get
fucked.” She knew that her beloved fiancée could not
see the tip of her clitoris, white with excite and
hooded in drooping down to that of a wrinkly pinkish,
reddish, black hole looking grossly corkscrewed. It of
such, hooded down ugly from lying down with the black
man, for almost two years, and she knew her beloved
fiancée could not see her open crack of corkscrewed
flesh. She let her lower tummy sink down in feeling
soft and wiggled her little bottom in having her legs
up in the air and comfortably spread. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, soft and ready from that of a recent,
sudden orgasm self-imposed, felt that of a slightly
penetrating, upward slash to her wing-backed, pink-
brownish in color, pink vaginal lips. Her broken in
hole, ready, and her skinny, yet shapely legs, spread
further up in the air, and then she spread her legs as
far as she could. She cleared her throat from being
roughly rubbed up-and-down and all around, down there,
and said with sudden surprise in her Polish-American
brown eyes, “Hmm. Oh. Yeah. Hmm.” Then, she felt that
of a deeper, upward slash, slash her vaginal lips.
“...Ow! Jesus, you’re hard as a fucken’ rock. Yeah.
Hmm. Rub it around. My. My pussy.” She turned her
surrendering, elfin chin and all that flows with it,
gently to the left from her slightly painful surprise,
contently moaning through her nose and slightly parted
her lips free of lipstick. “...Hmm.” She moaned,
feeling her opening being rubbed up-and-down and all
around in that special way she knew all too well. She
moaned again from that side to side feeling, brushing
her pink vaginal lips back by that of a grossly huge,
hard black penis head. She smiled that of a pure evil
white smile, and she did so, in not looking at that
ugly face of that black man kneeling between her
spread legs but, she did mindlessly take grip of two,
planted black-colored elbows, knowing these black
elbows to be her black master’s black friend. She
professionally sensed these black elbows were telling
her to ‘put it in, for him, knowing she lay as kitten
to be raped by that of a black stranger almost as big
as her devil-looking black master. Her gloss pink,
shined over folds of outer vaginal lips, causing her
near dime-sized, corkscrewed flesh hole to lay ready
to be unbearably stretched, she suddenly felt to her
right hand guiding and slashing up her vaginal lips--
that of four inches of broad, hard black flesh
immediately stretch her to that sudden, four inch
stroke inside her, and said she aloud as sweet as she
could to that black man’s wide-grinned face, “Okay.
Uh-huh. I’m alright.” She said this in being surprised
for that of a second or two, her sparkling brown eyes
communicating, ‘I can take it, ‘if you go slowly. She
smiled that of a pure evil white smile, to tame his
want of going further down into her, and to that what
she felt lightly stretching her, she indiscernibly
nodded to the black man grinning unnaturally wide at
her, and moaned of her ‘thank you, by unloosening the
fit muscles of her hard belly. “...Hmm.” Letting her
lower belly sink lower, a big mattress well of spring
beneath her, she once again nodded fast, and she did
so, with that of a pure evil white smile given unto
this black stranger’s, wide-grinned face. “...Uh-huh.
Slow, baby.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, knowing she
being filmed dirty for money, felt the uncaring, left
hand of this self-introduced, black stranger, meanly
grabbing the bottom of her right calf and raise her
right leg near to her right ear. Literally, the inside
of her right knee, said smashing right onto her right
ear, and then as she was going to spread her left leg
a little wider, maybe take about two, four more inches
of this black man’s grossly thick, hard black penis,
she felt fully plunged straight down into her loose,
corkscrewed vagina, by that of a grossly huge, totally
erect and vein-laden, fourteen and one-quarter inch,
black penis--that bent up in the middle a little bit.
“...Oww!” Involuntarily, she slightly raised fast
her exposed, sinewy torso very fit, from the use of
her unwrinkled stomach muscles, in not even realizing
that she did, her left elbow, lightly planting to the
soft, strong mattress laden with dry sperm stains and
dry stains of past, uncontrollable flows of vagina
juice. Her right leg, still pressed severely near her
right ear, literally, the inside of her right knee,
said smashing right onto her right ear. The palm of
her resting left hand, subconsciously helping to
slightly raise her involuntarily rising torso, the
palm of her right hand, ready to support which way her
naked body moved, and the back of her thin shoulders
had raised that of a mere four to five inches from the
big, springy mattress. In so being plunged all the way
by that of a grossly huge, totally erect and vein-
laden, fourteen and one-quarter inch black penis--that
bent up in the middle a little bit, the look of being
suddenly plunged all the way, showed immediate on her
blank, staring eyes colored brown and her flesh-pink
lips free of makeup, slackly open in that of total
surprise. The healthy, pink-colored tip of her tongue,
fatly resting between the top and bottom part of her
clean, white teeth--that tongue, looking fat and dumb
between her pink-red lips--that tongue, knowing more
to come. That silent tongue saying to no one, ‘I’m
stuffed with it and there’s nothing I can do, ‘but
just take it. Her Cleopatra-sized breasts, coming to
vibrating rest, the tips of her dark pink, erect
nipples, white with excite, her aureole, luminous to
that of flesh-white skin very smooth as to say, hope
of race. And as that grossly huge, black penis quickly
withdrew then, slammed down all the way again, she
fell straight back to the sex-stained mattress, with
her lilywhite, left leg spreading further back, her
right leg, still pressed back to her right ear.
Literally, the inside of her right knee was smashing
right onto her right ear. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
surrendered in that special way and she did so, whilst
screaming, “Ah!” And then she screamed to every fast,
hip bouncing stroke, her right leg, near to her right
ear, literally, the inside of her right knee was
smashing right onto her right ear. And such of that’,
with her left leg spread out and violently dangling
up-and-down and all around, from her lower, thin hips
violently bouncing up-and-down atop that of a big,
springy mattress, she was now being brutally raped.
“...Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Awoahh! Stop. Please. Ow.
Fred! I can’t take it! Like this! Ow! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Yeah! Hmm. Awoahh!”
Lucky for Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, after her
twentieth, fast bouncing and painfully flesh
stretching, brutal stroke, there said five, naked
white slaves to take her place. Earl; #27 of wing
‘Blue; uncaringly pulled his black-colored penis out
of the brand-new white slave, and she somehow heard
that long sliding ‘pop, noise--that she had not heard
in seven, or was it eight weeks. Sixteen-year-old,
Jamie, said as being the last black boy that had made
her ‘pop, seven weeks ago. Or was it of such, eight
weeks ago? Especially, when Jamie had pulled real fast
out of her in the doggie position. “Oh,” Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz softly groaned between her lips in having
convulsing belly, her whole body with the front part
of her knees now nearly touching her lower chest, and
rolling from side to side she was in not even knowing
that she was. “...Ah. Fuck!” She shouted alarm because
of just having her near virgin, innermost, deep
vaginal flesh being torn back, and then slowly closing
down in and around that her vaginal muscle. After all,
she was only 5’3’’, 102 lbs., and very thin of hip
this Miss Patricia Olkeweitz breathed as. From her
rolling back and forth for four to five seconds, she
rolled to the right and severely curled up with her
straight hands between her legs. Earl; #27 of wing
‘Blue: stood erect of spine, in being atop the sperm-
stained mattress Miss Patricia Olkeweitz lay curled up
on, and from looking down, he of Negro skin, said,
“Yeah. You little tight, bitch. We start you off in
da’ kitchen.” One of the 5 naked white slaves--that
was a ‘nigger girl, hearing that this brand-new white
slave to work in the kitchen and do chores all day
long, whispered, “Yeah.” And everyone heard Earl; #27
of wing ‘Blue; further say, “I be back for some more
of dat’ shit.” He of Negro skin, turned around and
looked at Fred’s mentally shocked, drunken face, and
then Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; said aloud to Fred with
everyone listening, “That slide nice and easy up
there, Fred. Your girlfriend slick fast. She say stop,
but she mean go. Hey. Looky here, go sit down on the
couch, down over there.” Suddenly, Fred was roughly
guided by 5 naked white slaves meanly gripping him, to
sit on the tan leather couch. The naked black man
stepped off the springy mattress Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz lay curled up on, and stepped onto a
hardwood floor, and then this black man said, “There,
Fred. Now watch how pussy get going.” Fred, now seated
in the middle of two naked girls, drunkenly looked
back and forth at these two, naked white girls smiling
at him, and he did so, while being forced to rest all
the way back to the tan leather couch that he sat on.
It came of Fred to rest his blue eyes to the right,
seeing this young woman furiously rubbing her outer
vagina with the major fingers of her right hand, her
big breasts moving unduplicated ways; her opposable
thumb, giving assist to her self-induced pleasure. As
her pleasure rose her smooth legs up in that of a
spreading manner, Fred glanced at that of a shaven
Venus-mound--that seemed unnaturally broad and wide of
pinkish-brown mound. Fred; seeing her fingers
furiously pushing around sagging, pink vaginal lips to
the sides of a pink, corkscrewed opening--that showed
wrinkly, dark pink flesh; now knew why his fiancée’s
private area looked as this absolutely gorgeous, blue-
eyed blonde. This’, from looking downward at the young
woman to his right, in seeing that of a dime-sized,
pink black hole being suddenly cracked open then,
seeing he of that one-half inch deep, flesh-pink
corkscrew look. He looked slightly to the left and
eyed of his fiancée lying on that of a pillow-decked,
big mattress, and she did so lay--like that, in being
severly curled up with her straight hands between her
legs. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz shouted, “I’m alright,
Fred! I’ll. I’ll be over there in a minute!” From that
her saying, Fred heard one of the 5 naked white
slaves, say, “See, Fred, she didn’t do anything.” Fred
swallowed a huge gulp of whisky, and subconsciously
thought, “She got the shit fucked out of her, just
from ten strokes.” And heard he that naked black guy,
say, “Fred. You see how they making pussies looser?
They likes’ it.” Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; and just as
much, full of innate evilness, walked around the knee-
high table, with his erect black penis in his own
stroking right hand; he even had some of Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz’s white cum’ on his fourteen and one-quarter
inch black-colored penis, and then he of the Negro
looked down at the blue-eyed blonde that had her legs
spread-eagled to Fred’s right. “...Yeah.” Everyone
heard Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; say this, especially
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz. She still lay curled up in
having her hands between her legs, feeling her inner,
deep vaginal muscle returning to normalcy, her ears,
listening to every word; her American mind,
subconsciously knowing that there were at least a-half
dozen black guys living in this madhouse, and heard
she, “...This one’ just likes half of it going fast.
Then, she screams for all of it. Don’t ya’, baby?”
“Yes.”
“Watch, Fred as she slick fast. Yeah, baby, you
want this, don’t you, honey?”
“Yes. Hmm.”
Fred, sitting right next to that naked white
slave that had said ‘yes, ‘hmm, watched as the biggest
black penis that he had ever seen, slash up the end of
that black penis head, to the loose vaginal lips of
the naked white slave to his right. Then, Fred said as
being dumfounded, seeing that grossly huge black
thing, sink fast all the way up into her, and he heard
her throat grunt, “Ughh...”

Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; proceeded to cause five,

naked white slaves to loudly moan and placidly scream
in stretching pain gone dumb and mindlessly addictive,
this, as Hank; #28 of wing ‘Blue; filmed on and waited
for his turn to have at six, stark naked white slaves.
He of Negro skin; Hank, breathed evilly in looking
forward to making that curled up white slave; her
white boyfriend, now sitting atop the big mattress
that she laid curled up on, in trying to comfort his
nodding girlfriend; to scream and beg for him to stop
paining her all the way. To all this, Fred; lovingly
stroking the left side of Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s
hair; now heard his fiancée say, “Thanks. Thanks for
not freaking out. Chop me a line’. I’ll. I’ll be over
in a minute.”
Fred rose from the mattress, fell down from being
so drunk, crawled to a knee-high table, and somehow
chopped up two, huge lines of almost pure cocaine, and
he did so, in seeing and hearing that white woman
grunt from getting screwed by a black man on the tan
leather couch. He sensed naked white women surrounding
him, and they looked at him meanly. He snorted a line’
up, and just as he turned on his knees to look at his
fiancée, with Hank; #28 of wing ‘Blue; his grossly
huge, thickly vein-laden, totally soft black penis,
waiting to pain slaves, still holding that VCR camera
atop his right shoulder area, Kevin; #29 of wing
‘Blue; and George; #25 of wing ‘Blue; suddenly neared
that big mattress on the hardwood floor, a mattress--
that a white slave lay curled up on. Fred was now
loosely surrounded by nine, naked slaves, five of
these slaves, helping him to stand and they all looked
at him. And that naked, Oriental-looking, young woman
standing right in front of him, voiced with that of a
white smile hard to read, “That shit get you going,
baby? Your dick hard?” Then, she handed him a bottle
of cold beer.
“Huh? What? What are they booin’? Doing?” Fred
felt that cold one’ in his right hand and he took a
deep swallow of beer.
One of the nine, naked slaves; that all together
loosely surrounded Fred, shouted, “Fuck it! Let the
white boy watch it!”
That Vietnamese-American, naked slave sidestepped
to the left and three, naked white slaves sidestepped
to the right, this, as Fred felt his arms and the top
part of his cowboy shirt, being meanly gripped. But,
these naked white slaves that meanly held Fred in that
of different manners, did so let Fred raise his right
arm that in his right hand, held a bottle of beer.
Fred, drunk, now had a clear view and watched as
three, naked black men stood around that spring
mattress his fiancée said curled up on, with her
straight hands between her legs. Fred bleary-eyed of
three, naked white slaves merrily take steps to near
that mattress on the hardwood floor, and then place
their knees to the springy mattress. Fred drunkenly
saw those three, naked white women grabbing and
touching his fiancée all over, Fred, fuzzily thinking
about those two, naked black guys standing around that
mattress. Fred, noticing that naked black man holding
a VCR camera to his right shoulder area. Fred
drunkenly glanced to the left and right, wondering
where all these beautiful, naked women were coming
from, and that brunette was getting screwed on the tan
leather couch by that black guy; Earl, #27 of wing
‘Blue. Fred, somehow recalling what his fiancée had
said, and he heard in his mind her voice, ‘it’s a call
girl escort service. To the madhouse breath of her
now, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt three blonde-haired,
young women forcefully spread her willing legs,
causing her to roll to the left in having her back to
that of a dry, springy mattress, the bottom of her
feet, helping her. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz scooted
fast to find that pillow behind her neck, knowing all
too well that two, naked black men were stroking their
long, thick black-colored penises with their right
hand. She sensed that naked black man filming her. It
felt as though she could not even measure to mind
their long, thick length. To her fast glancing,
feeling giddy in knowing she to be gang-raped all day
long by black guys, she subconsciously knew that she
wouldn’t even be able to wrap her fingers around it,
it of such, just that big. Feeling she as to be the
center of some pure evil flesh tornado, she,
sweepingly seeing three black-colored faces wide-
grinned and ugly to her eye. Hearing she one of these
three, naked blue-eyed young women saying with her
thumbs spreading back her loose, hanging down vaginal
lips, “She still little tight, yo’. Hmm. Aren’t ya’,
baby. Don’t worry’. It be alright. Youse’ see.”
Loud thumping black music said as being to the
background and Fred, Fred was now roughly guided to a
tan leather couch.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, feeling her legs being
spread back further, by that naked woman lying on her
belly, stared at that black-skinned stranger standing
to the foot of the mattress. Then, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz eyed of that naked black man place his palms
on his black-colored hips. She stared at it as she was
being licked by a white slave, and then she giggled
with that of a pure evil white smile, to that blonde’s
face between her spread legs, “They’re all so big.”

Loud thumping black music caused Fred not to hear

what she said. But he did hear that naked blonde with
her lips inches from his fiancée’s private area,
shout, “I know, yo’! And they fuck you back!” But, he
did not hear, “You do master?”
“Yeah. Tore me up, from one stroke. Kiss me,
right there. Yeah. Hmm. Ohahhh, yeah. That feels good.
Lick it. Lick like that. Hmm.”
She felt three, naked young women kissing her all
over, especially that naked white slave with her
smooching lips right to the center of her pink, black,
corkscrewed hole, and this, another first moan for
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz of rolling green acres. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz breathed in resting on her bare
back, spreading her lilywhite legs from being licked--
like a cat, down there. And just as much being kissed
all over by two, naked young blondes--as her outer
vagina was being kissed and licked by that naked,
young blonde, she turned her elfin chin to the left,
seeing her beloved fiancée fully reclined to that tan
leather couch, in being nearly surrounded by naked
slaves. She knew that these naked slaves were ready to
beat him up, maybe even try to kill him, if he
prevented her from being raped again by their black
master’s black friends. Seeing him swallowing beer,
she wondered why he wasn’t joining in this sudden fun.
Then, subconsciously she knew that he felt embarrassed
by three, grossly huge black penises swinging near and
around the big, springy mattress that she lay spread-
eagled on. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, thought, “It’s
your fault, Fred.” She of self-imposed orgasm sixteen
minutes past, now found herself expectedly being hand-
muscled’ fast by that of a total black stranger. She
glanced at her beloved fiancée gulping beer from a
bottle, seeing all those naked slaves around him. To
and from the black hands of this black stranger, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz wondered to this naked, black man’s
sexual arrangement, and she soon aided these black
hands, pink-white palms to those black hands, by
willingly raising her naked hips to that of the doggie
position. The left side of her nose to that of a big
mattress, she said aloud in that of worry, “Oh, shit.”
And she did so say it as she said such to no one,
sensing those three blondes scooting off the big
mattress--that she had her left cheek, elbows, and
knees planted to. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, looking of
right eye, eyed that of an obvious stain of dry sperm
inches away. Feeling the calloused palm of that of a
black stranger’s left hand, the fingers and opposable
thumb of that calloused palm, severly gripping her
muscle-rippled bellybutton area, she heard from this
black stranger that breathed in doing that. “Yeah,
bitch!” And she did so hear this--as he of the Negro
squeezed and gripped around her bellybutton area, in
so trying to catch muscle-rippled flesh well-sired.
“...I’m gonna’ break that shit down! Oh, yeah. You
gonna’ be soft all up in there. You want black dick,
right there, baby? Right there, where that little
pudge’ is?”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz raised her head with her
elbows and knees still planted to that mattress, and
sweetly voiced in her doggie position, “Yes, please.”
She looked down at the embroidery of the big mattress
beneath her naked readiness. Thinking she, “Fucken’
thing is covered in sperm.” Dry sperm. To this
thought, she felt of her right hand the short feeling
to the embroidery of the mattress, and thought she to
that index finger feeling, “...This feels like silk.”
And when she felt fast slaps on her little,
robotically waving bottom that had been forced to rise
in the air, feeling sudden vibrations rippling along
her right buttock cheek, those heard slaps felt as
that of a warm billy-club’, striking her silky,
soft/hard flesh. She subconsciously heard loud black
music. She wanted it to Devil music. She mindlessly
wanted ugly black pain.
“...Hmm,” she said. “Yeah. Fuck me with it.”
“You want that up your ass?”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt uncaring thumbs
spread back her soft buttock cheeks, and then, she
felt a gob of soft spit land directly to the middle of
her anus hole looking spider-corkscrewed’. She felt
this warm spit flow fast down between her pink vaginal
lips, and when she felt that uncaring hand rubbing her
private area, she raised her hips further up and to
the right at an angle, while letting her front, right
shoulder move further down to the spring mattress. She
felt vibrations from fast movement and knew this black
man was standing directly above her lower back. Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz, in the doggie position, felt that
hard, spongy feeling touch the outside of her loose
anus hole looking spider web, corkscrewed, and she
giggled whilst saying, “Noooooo’!” She instinctively
moved her upraised hips a couple of inches forward
then, she thought she sensed that huge penis head
slide down the flesh line of her vagina lips and she
suddenly came to be swiftly speared up inside her
vulgarly said, ‘pussy, by at least twelve to thirteen
inches of hard, thick black flesh. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz felt her vagina muscle being lightly
stretched all around--as she smiled that of a pure
evil white smile looking surprised. “Ahhaahhhhhhhhh!”
she said with that of a pure evil white smile on her
giddy face free of makeup then, she felt those long,
thick inches running out of her just as suddenly as it
of such, had been speared deeply straight down into
her. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz heard those two black
guys standing on the hardwood floor, laugh that
jackass laughter that she knew all too well and she
heard that black man that stood over her bare back,
also laugh. Laughing, from her surprised saying of
‘Ahhaahhhhhhhhh, and she sweetly said aloud with her
elbows and knees planted to the springy mattress,
whilst looking eyes down at that dry sperm stain,
“That’s not very nice.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz heard
that black guy standing over her little, upraised
bottom, say, “Just waking up?”
“Uh-huh,” she answered, lightly waving her boy-
looking bottom back and forth.
She mindlessly liked it. She mindlessly liked
doing it with the black man. She fell to pure evil.
Something beautiful was dying. And because of that,
the Universe grew sad and Earth ready itself for great
destruction. Sodom, for reason, again...

Three hours later, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz;

clothed in that of brand-new gray cotton sweatpants,
brand-new white cotton T-shirt, brand-new white cotton
socks, and brand-new white tennis shoes; breathed
contently watching that of a big color TV. She
contented so, because of snow falling in force outside
and that pretty fireplace crackling red-hot firewood
and sometimes, blessed silence lasted for a whole
three minutes. There said a movie on, a romantic love
story comedy, and she had practically cried through
the whole ten to fifteen minutes that she had watched
of this movie. Her beloved fiancée; Fred; breathed in
having his weakened arms wrapped to the outside of a
clean toilet bowl on the second floor of this
madhouse, and he did so breathe as that, at that
moment she contented in having a lip-smile upon her
innocent face free of perfume powder. As said, Fred
breathed in having his weakened arms wrapped to the
outside of a toilet bowl, because he was physically
sick from drinking almost two bottles of whisky and
three bottles of beer, almost pure cocaine, keeping
his drinking alive. All he thought about now, said as
to drink some sink water and crawling to that bunk bed
to sleep, of which, he somehow did. She of innate
gentleness never lost, she, gracing high, flowery
flesh-white cheekbones sired from her English-born
mother, she, gracing deep, dark streaks of sun gold in
her silky, fine brown hair, her doll lips, natural
pink-red, her forehead, intelligent-looking, rather
enjoyed that delicious aroma of chicken stock softly
simmering the feeling of winter, and the movie that
she said watching, a romantic love story comedy. Then,
thinking about the annoying noises caused by the
slaves that lived in this Victorian madhouse, well
knowing that at least six, seven black guys lived in
this madhouse, wondering where that flaming faggot
was, she heard those expensive, shoe clicking noises
coming from the well-buffeted hardwood floor, and knew
that her devil-looking black master to be approaching
in being behind her contented, thinking selfhood. She
thought, “Fuck.” Six seconds later, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz casually turned her elfin chin to the left,
and rather confidently raised that chin of hers;
confident, because of having sex after sex on a sperm-
stained mattress on the living room floor, with six of
her black master’s black friends. She eyed of her
devil-looking, pimp-dressed’ black master approaching
her to one of nearness and immediate fear dripped down
into her belly, a belly--that had been deeply thrust
for nearly three hours in different sexual positions,
by six black guys. She showed an immediate ray of
worship on her perky face full of white smiles, this
‘ray of worship, false and hidden, and she heard her
devil-looking black master say while he lit a
marijuana cigarette, “Tell Freddy. You’re going out to
California with me. To learn how to work with
Microsoft Word. We should be back in about fifteen
weeks.”
“Can I call my mom, to tell her I’m alright?”
“Sure, baby. Now don’t go and think of running. I
really don’t want to see you and your mommy’s throat
cut.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, born and raised in the
United States of America, now hated the black man by
the measure of twelve inches. For reason...
The next sunny bright morning, outside, full of
cold snow, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz and Fred took that
of a warm, cascading shower together, where that she
performed oral sex upon her beloved fiancée until he
ejaculated into her very skilled mouth, and then she
swallowed her beloved fiancée’s sperm down her throat.
To say, this ejaculation of sperm willingly swallowed
into her stomach, another first for her, and she did
it of such, so that her beloved fiancée would silently
forgive her for what she did yesterday. And soon being
dressed in brand-new gray cotton sweatpants, brand-new
white cotton T-shirt, brand-new white cotton socks,
and brand-new white tennis shoes, Fred, donning the
same clothes that he had on yesterday, the both of
them said as being privately inside their borrowed
bedroom; a bedroom large and warmly airy. As she
brushed down her damp, silky dark golden-brown hair
with that of a brush made of ivory, looking at the
dresser’s clean mirror in her forward stand to bureau,
she thought whilst staring at her wet hair turned
perfect black, “I am beautiful. California. Oh, fuck
no.”
Fred, cleaning his right ear with that of a Q-
tip, heard his fiancée say that she was going with
Richard to California to learn Microsoft Word. Fred
looked dumbfounded, hearing as she mindlessly brushed
down her damp hair in the airy, warm bedroom, hearing
as she stared into that big mirror, hearing as she
stared into that big mirror and say hypnotically,
“It’s alright, Fred. I’ll only be gone for a couple of
weeks. Maybe five’. We got to get things going. You
can use my car, to look for a job. They got good food
here.”
“Five weeks!? Why can’t I go with you?”
“You want me to learn Microsoft Word, don’t ya’?”
“Yeah, but I want to go with you.”
Fred looked worried and a little angry. Even
though she had begged and begged him for forgiveness
that morning before they showered together, Fred,
saying that he loved her more than anything on Earth,
to him; things were going too fast and getting way out
of hand. Fred, hearing as she brushed her hair down in
the airy bedroom. Fred, hearing as she stared into the
mirror. Fred, hearing as she stared into the mirror
and say hypnotically, “Ask Richard.”
 Two tons of something said resting on the bed of
a brand-new, white painted, heavy-duty Chevy van, and
her devil-looking black master; dressed casually, but
conservatively, sat in that of a cross-legged position
near that two tons of something resting on the bed of
the van. He did not sit to the passenger seat, for
obvious reasons. And now to the breath of her now,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz drove this heavy-duty, Chevy
van in traveling south on an Illinois State highway.
She rather enjoyed steering this tough, rich leather
smelling van, it had easy power and those brand-new
snow tires could stop on a dime. To this living black
nightmare of her now, she knew that she was
transporting large, brand-new cardboard boxes, all of
these cardboard boxes together, weighing at least two
tons and resting on the metallic floor of this van
made heavy-duty. And each of these brand-new cardboard
boxes, were colorfully stamped with that of, GERBERS
BABY FOOD. She glanced at the speedometer, seeing her
steering selfhood traveling at eighty miles per hour,
donned nearby sunglasses, and sweetly said to
environmentally controlled air, “Darling, where are we
going?”
“Topeka. Follow Kansas. Drop the speed to the
speed limit. And stay to all speed limits, even if
it’s twenty-five miles per hour. Use the cruise
control and stay in the right lane. Only pass to the
left and don’t run a red-light. I mean that. The
button for cruise control is on the right arm. Just
push the button on the end of the arm. Then, use your
fingers to pull the arm down.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
heard that of a tobacco/marihuana cough. Then, she
heard, “Girl, you gonna’ get dick in your mouth.”
“I know.”

For that of five weeks, her devil-looking black

master sold kilos of almost pure cocaine to the major
cities of the Midwest. And every night from the first
night of those five weeks; except when she lightly
menstruated for a couple of days; being privately
inside that of a shadowy dark, posh hotel room very
clean of tub and toilet, mostly the top suite and atop
a queen size bed, with that of silk satin sheets
smelling fresh, a heavy blanket pulled back to the
left side, for later, soft pillows behind her resting
head, the radio low in playing black music, she
willingly, yet fearfully spread her smooth, lilywhite
legs as far as she comfortably could in the dark. And
she did so raise and spread her skinny, yet shapely
legs, from feeling that wanted privacy and, no one
knowing what she wantonly lay in doing in the dark.
Mindlessly ready like that’, in the dark, low black
music playing on the portable radio, feeling soft all
around her trained private area, knowing the long,
hectic day to be over--that hectic day, always
following three to four paces behind her devil-looking
black master, rather looking forward to breakfast in
bed, she would soon feel twelve to thirteen inches of
her black master’s grossly thick, black penis muscle,
slowly sink and stuff hard into her, inch by gradual
inch. Grossly thick, twelve to thirteen inches that
stretched her vaginal muscle; stretching her,
stretching her all the way around. She held her breath
to those 12 to 13 inches resting deep inside her
belly, trying, trying to push this black thing pain
out of her. And always--as she spread back her white
legs a little and threw fast her arms over her resting
head to pillow, she would burst of one scream that
sounded as, “Ah!” in the dark. And when her devil-
looking black master just rested up there while
kneeling--like a frog, not moving in and out of her;
she would always exhale and inhale through her blowing
lips in the dark, low black music playing on the
portable radio, and then she would involuntarily
contract her warmly shivering belly around her black
master’s grossly huge, thick black penis muscle--as he
of Negro skin did so. He of her devil-looking black
master, for the last five weeks, had supplied almost
pure cocaine to wing ‘White, wing ‘Gold, wing ‘Red,
wing ‘Yellow, wing ‘Black, and wing ‘Gray, and each of
these nefarious wings, plus wing ‘Blue, comprising of
the Dark Disciples, had official members breathing the
skin color of Negro-American. He of her devil-looking
black master only gave the girl; Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz; one, resting long throbbing stroke, letting
this girl’s muscle hard, puffed belly relax to her
vagina being stretched all the way around, and she
always burst of one scream in the dark. “Ah!” Low
black music, playing on the portable radio. No matter
how hard she clenched her vaginal muscle to get this
black pain out of her, it of such just throbbed wildly
deep inside her, and she would indiscernibly throw her
bottom up, in feeling 12 to 13 inches of her black
master’s thick, black penis, just sit up there in not
moving. And when her devil-looking black master just
rested there, not moving in and out; she would always
loudly exhale and inhale through her blowing lips in
the dark, low black music playing on the portable
radio, and then, not more than seven to nine hard
blows of air through her lips, she would contract her
warmly shivering belly around her black master’s
grossly huge, thick black penis muscle--as he of Negro
skin did so, just sit up there. Then, in the dark, low
black music playing on the portable radio, her devil-
looking black master still rock-hard, her devil-
looking black master would violently push up those
remaining three to four inches while grunting to that
loose, trained vagina--that to him, tightly wrapped
around his sixteen and one-quarter inch, grossly thick
and vein-laden, black-colored penis. To that, she
would immediately climax in silent pain and she always
screamed but once in the dark. “Ah!” And she of being
20 years of age, very thin of lilywhite hips, with
that resting sixteen and one-quarter inches,
stretching her deeply all around, climaxed all around
that thick, sixteen and one-quarter inch, black penis,
at least she thought she climaxed to that stretching
pain. For long moments, in the dark, low black music
playing on the portable radio, she intermittently
moaned as her devil-looking black master hardly moved
a muscle. Her devil-looking black master, in the dark,
low black music playing on the portable radio, letting
it of such, just sit up there wildly throbbing--as she
tried to get her devil-looking black master, to go in
and out of her. But, he of the Negro, in the dark, low
black music playing on the portable radio, he of her
devil-looking black master, never did that wanted, ‘in
and out, thing to her. In the dark, low black music
playing on the portable radio, he swinishly enjoyed
hearing her loudly breathe in and out through her
lips. And three to four minutes later, in the dark,
low black music playing from that cheap, little time
clock radio that she carried from hotel to hotel, she
always mindlessly moaned, “Oh,” from her devil-looking
black master pulling straight out of her.
Her unseen, slick pink flesh hole looking grossly
corkscrewed, knowing her devil-looking black master
said as being still hard and undoubtedly throbbing.
Then, he of her devil-looking black master, in the
dark, low black music playing on the portable radio,
would pull up silk satin sheets and a downy blanket to
his right shoulder area, fall on top of her, and then
fall asleep in being atop of her naked body
comfortably spread-eagled, the bottom of her feet, to
that clean, silk satin sheet. And usually, she would
awaken seven hours later, silk satin sheets beneath
her and all around her with a downy blanket over those
silk satin sheets, in having her devil-looking black
master sleeping right next to her. To those private
hotel suites of the Midwest, seeing the open plains
and big money being thrown all around go-go bars owned
by her black master’s, ugly black friends, her devil-
looking black master, selling kilos of almost pure
cocaine, she, she had mindless sex with her black
master’s ugly black friends nearly all the time, this,
for the last five weeks and in private. And for the
last five weeks, she was near constantly glancing at
the biggest black penis that she had ever seen,
swinging back and forth to that of different hotel
suites looking similar. And just as much, for the last
five weeks, she said as always walking around naked in
that of expensive hotel suites. She had called her mom
once a week and she did so, whilst being naked in
sitting on a nice chair that held to hotel suites
looking fancy and posh, telling her mom that she was
living in California with Fred; her naked, devil-
looking black master, standing in front of her as she
did so. She looked right at it. Once to the masked
evils of glitzy Las Vegas, she did what she had come
to do for the last five weeks, and that said as
receiving that of a wake-up call at 11 A.M., glance at
her devil-looking black master rolling over to go back
to sleep, toilet, take a hot, perfume bubble bath, eat
sensibly, rest, exercise as hard as she could in the
hotel’s gym; if they had one; take a shower in the
gym’s shower, sauna, shower, shave in the shower,
dress--like a high-class whore, and then have late
afternoon sex with two or three of her black master’s
ugly black friends, inside a beautiful hotel suite.
After having evening sex with one or two of her black
master’s ugly black friends inside that of a hotel
suite, snorting a line of almost pure cocaine in that
hotel suite, it said time to take a hot, perfume
bubble bath, rest for a little bit, eat in a fancy
restaurant, and then she would party, dance, and
professionally sweat on the cheering runway of the go-
go bars that her black master’s, ugly black friends
owned. King, why I witness what You did not have to
witness in Your world? My, King, I beg Thee, forgive
me, I forgot, Ye of King, witnessed the same in Sodom.
Now, we witness... Debbie. Sonja. Then, in the dark,
low black music playing on the portable radio, all
alone with her devil-looking black master inside a
beautiful hotel suite, getting ready to lay down on
that big bed covered in silk satin sheets and downy
blanket, the air of this hotel suite, artificially
warm, she would sit her little, naked bottom to the
edge of a big bed, turn that cheap radio on low in
hearing black music, turn the lamp off, scoot back
with that of an unheard grunt, liking the way that
crisp, silk satin sheet felt to her little rump and
the bottom of her soft feet, and then lay to the
middle of a clean, big bed. Silk satin sheets and
downy blanket past pulled back to the right and neatly
ready for her devil-looking black master to pull this
comforting cloth over them, when he of her devil-
looking black master felt as to do so. In the dark,
low black music playing on the portable radio, feeling
her devil-looking black master crawling directly
toward her private area hidden in the dark, she
mechanically butterfly her raised legs in not even
being told to do so. In the dark, low black music
playing on the portable radio, she would have her
devil-looking black master unemotionally stuffing hard
his grossly huge black penis, up inside her totally
loose vagina, right around 3 A.M. Then, just letting it
of such, just sit up there in being rock-hard. She
sensed that her devil-looking black master liked her
breathing in and out through her blowing lips. In the
dark, low black music playing on the portable radio,
she breathed hard through her lips--like she was
having a baby, and now, after five weeks of this’,
once in awhile, she would burst in one, sudden scream,
“Ah!” Then, breathe hard through her blowing lips--as
if, as if she was having a baby. In the dark, she
sensed that her devil-looking black master liked the
sound of her losing her breath for a second or two.
But, her devil-looking black master for the last five
weeks, in the dark, low black music playing on the
portable radio, never stuck her in and out, no matter
how much she begged in whispering in the dark, ‘fuck
me, ‘come on, ‘fuck me with it, ‘O’ God, ‘just fuck me
like I’m supposed to be...! Five weeks had passed to
her now being to that of a Las Vegas hotel suite, and
the loser wilds of casinos had now found herself
winning eleven thousand dollars from playing craps
then, losing that eleven thousand’ from playing craps,
and just as much, losing three thousand dollars of her
black master’s money. She really liked the casinos and
all its mad-filled noise, it of such, said the only
place that she really felt relaxed in walking behind
her devil-looking black master or standing next to her
devil-looking black master--as if he of Negro skin,
her boyfriend. Because, evil begat pure evil in
casinos. Evil casinos bred more American white whores
more for black masters growing in uncaring legion.
Mina King, do You see that Atlantic City High School,
graduating 17% of its graduating class; 90% of this
17%, white girls; going right from school, to whore on
the sidewalks and bars of Atlantic City. 91% of the
white girls that go to Atlantic City High School do
the black boys that surround them, and as said, many
become whores in Atlantic City, and have black boy
masters, taking their earned money, every night, right
from the start. Casinos--that begat more evil more.
Debbie. Sonja. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, just one of
many American girls that talked about ‘big nigger
cock. Sodom, for reason, again. And she felt no
embarrassment inside these evil, mad-filled casinos
always noisy. These casinos, breeding more evil more--
as a matter-of-fact, she smiled that of a white smile
very gay, every time she eyed of a pretty white girl
obviously following behind that of a ugly black boy
inside of these evil casinos always mad-filled.
Casinos that literally take peoples money, because no
one wins money in the casinos--as the shady owners of
these casinos, know these dumb-ass suckers will be
back to their casino-smelling joint to gamble. So,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, once bodily inside these evil
casinos that never stop in being noisy, she, liking to
hear this noise of the mad, felt no embarrassment or
shame, in knowing that everybody knew she was doing
that skinny black guy she followed around, and
sometimes, stood next to’. But more than once, she
would see the hate on a white male security guard, and
she knew white men hated white women that did it with
blacks’, especially, when that white male is of the
working poor, seeing his beautiful sister being slave
to the black man. Mayhap, because, the Caucasain man
knows, senses, his beauty of future daughter lost and
never seen again of face. That face. That face that
launched a thousand ships. From Las Vegas, her devil-
looking black master had her star in seven,
interracial porno movies in Silver City, Nevada. And
being in Beverly Hills, California two weeks later
from Silver City, Nevada, feeling loose and rather
rich from all the nice, sexy outfits, jewelry, and
makeup that her devil-looking black master gave her,
and then taking invited residence to that of a white
marbled mansion, owned by a ugly black friend of her
devil-looking black master, never being introduced to
these well-dressed, ugly black men that her devil-
looking black master shook hands with, she and her
devil-looking black master, were now breathing
contently inside that of a white carpeted bedroom very
large and richly airy. That French door draping silk,
white transparent curtains, leading to that of a
garden balcony, said much of Beverly Hills in the
winter time. She was now in Beverly Hills and she
dressed perfectly.
“Put my stuff away.”
Her devil-looking black master ordered his white
slave. She of white slave now bold, and this boldness,
because of her devil-looking black master stuffing
hard his grossly huge, sixteen and one-quarter inch,
thick black penis inside her, almost every late
midnight for the last seven weeks, in the dark, low
black music playing on the portable radio. This, ‘in
the dark, ‘low black music playing on the portable
radio, in that her devil-looking black master would
roughly slide up his long, grossly thick, sixteen and
one-quarter inch black penis and just rest it up
inside her, and he of Negro skin, never stroked her in
and out. And to this of that, she of white slave had
always intermittently contracted around this flesh
stretching pain for long minutes. Recently, about ten
days ago, right around 3 A.M, she had moaned in the
dark, “I. Uhhngg. Can’t believe. Hmm. How. You can,
just sit there with it. It. Hmm. Does that. Ah. Ah.
Ah. To me. Baby, yeah. That’s good. That’s. Real good.
Ah. Ah. Owah. Have me. Fuck me. Hmm. Please. Please.
Come on, please, please fuck me. In and out. Fuck me
the way I’m suppose to be! Please. Cum’ up inside me.”
Her skinny, yet shapely legs recently suntanned, would
always mechanically spread a little further back in
the dark, low black music playing on the portable
radio, the bottom of her feet to silk satin sheets,
her smooth, deeply golden suntanned arms; near about
her fanned back hair recently dyed beach-blonde.
Feeling her muscle-rippled belly intermittently
shivering the warmth of pain, her devil-looking black
master still did not go in and out’. Then--as usual in
the dark, low black music playing on the portable
radio, her devil-looking black master would
unemotionally lay on top of her Cleopatra-sized
breasts, rest hard for three to four minutes in hardly
moving a muscle, say something such as, ‘yeah, ‘baby,
‘you’re getten’ there. Then, he would push down those
last three to four inches, and usually, in the dark,
low black music playing on the portable radio, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz, would scream but once. “Aw!” Then,
she would have her mouth comfortably opened wide, her
eyes scrunching from pain whilst holding her breath in
her chest, loudly grunt fast exhale through her mouth,
inhale through her nose, and then relax her face and
spread her legs a little. In the dark, low black music
playing on the portable radio, her devil-looking black
master always found his fully plunged comfort atop her
spread-eagled, limp body. Then, three to four minutes
later, sometimes, he of Negro skin would fall asleep
in being locked way up inside her. She said white
slave to mindless black pain, pain that she was
getting use to. And twenty, long minutes later, in the
dark, low black music playing on the portable radio,
her sleeping, black master’s totally soft black penis
would somehow slide out of her loosely muscled vagina.
“He didn’t cum’. Again.”
And that’s when she usually fell asleep, her
skinny, yet shapely, suntanned legs, comfortably
spread around black legs sleeping. To her first night
of nights’, in the dark, low black music playing on
the portable radio, when her devil-looking black
master had done that’, silent tears had flowed down
her cheeks because of thinking about Fred and his
innocent, blue eyes. So, she of driving that very
early morning from Silver City, Nevada, to Beverly
Hills mansion, now bold in saying to her devil-looking
black master, “Oh, darling. Master. Look at this bed
you’re going to fuck me on. It’s beautiful. I love
you.” California’s winter air made her suddenly feel
that way.
“That’s your problem.”
Seeing her devil-looking black master removing
his thin, Italian tan leather laced shoes, obviously
thinking about something as he of her devil-looking
black master did so, she of being dressed in that of
expensive, tan suede leather boots, tight designer
blue jeans, and that of a tight, pink cotton T-shirt
with no bra on, she of seeing, silently thought to
herself, “Fuck you then, too.” Having this silent
thought from saying aloud that she loved this black
man, or did she, she confidently strutted to that of a
refrigerator and angrily opened this refrigerator’s
white painted, metallic door. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
immediately shined that of a ray of young happiness,
this, because of sweepingly seeing that five pound
plastic bag of brownish-blond marijuana; Acapulco
Gold; water pipe, a one pound plastic bag of almost
pure cocaine, a case of beer, a fancy glass bowl
holding recently cooked shrimp looking fresh and
plump, lemons, limes, four bottles of French
champagne, a bottle of whisky, five plastic bottles of
water, a plastic bottle of aspirin, and a white
envelope that showed as being packed to the gills with
one hundred dollar bills. She of being that of an
interracial, Midwest porno actress; suddenly felt as
to be pained all the way from privacy. This time, she
wanted her devil-looking black master to stroke her in
and out to that contracting, warm shivering pain that
she now mindlessly felt addicted to. To say of her
mindless addiction to ugly black pain, for the last
week, in the dark, low black music playing on the
portable radio, those warm shivers had just led to her
suntanned legs being spread further back, spreading
further back, to gently lure her devil-looking black
master to stroke his sixteen and one-quarter inches,
in and out of her. And she had done that of such in
the dark, a low radio playing black music but, he
looking as Devil himself never did her want of being
stroked in and out. Her devil-looking black master, in
the dark, low black music playing on the portable
radio, always just let it sit up there as she blew
hard between her lips, blowing and breathing as if, as
if she said having a baby. She now wanted her devil-
looking black master to thumb down her thin hips to
that big bed over there and plow her back and forth.
This time; in having wanted privacy and as usual, very
posh; she breathed determined to force her devil-
looking black master to pound her in and out, real
fast, and then ejaculate way up inside her belly. She
thought, “Forget about it.” Reaching her right hand
for that bottle of French champagne, she purred aloud,
“Master, do you feel like it? Just for a couple of
minutes. Please. Please just put it up me for a minute
or two. You know, we never did it in the daylight.”
She did so come to recently enjoy teasing her devil-
looking black master. She read the cold bottle’s
label, and further teased aloud, “...I won’t use my
teeth, I promise.”
“Yoah, asshole! I said put my stuff away!”
“I will, darling. I’m just going to have a sip of
champagne, first. You wore me out last night in that
dumb town of Silver. And ya’ didn’t even cum’. You
know. That early drive and all. After all, we are safe
and sound in L.A.”
“Yeah...yeah...yeah. Big deal. So you’re a good
driver.”
“Baby. Master. Please, could you open this...?”

Three to four minutes later, Miss Patricia

Olkeweitz; tulip glass holding French pink champagne
in hand, had casually inspected nearly every inch of
this bedroom’s total opulence. Naturally, she of
American mind, experiencing what she had been
experiencing for the last seven weeks, fawn eyes onto
those pink, silk satin sheets tucked tight to that of
a king size bed, a big bed having brass railings and
see-through, light silk curtains hanging around that
big brass bed. The white marbled balcony, letting
winter sunshine streak all over that big bed covered
over in silk satin sheets colored pink, those four
pillows, looking soft and inviting to the want of
relaxed laziness. Soon lounging in being pillow-
propped atop pink, silk satin sheets--that lay tucked
to that of a king size bed--that second tulip glass of
French pink champagne, held in her right hand, her
legs, crossed over at the jean-covered knee; she of
white slave to the black man, fully smiled from seeing
her devil-looking black master being sharply dressed;
sharply dressed in that of designer, Italian tan silk
clothing, diamond rings on his fingers, a gold
earring, to his right ear, and said he of the Negro to
his relaxing white slave, holding that of a tulip
glass containing French pink champagne, “I want you to
stay in this room. Watch that TV. I don’t give ah’
fuck what ya’ do, just stay in this room. I’ll be back
in a couple hours. And whoever walks through that
door, and wants to fuck you, you let ‘em. You got
that?”
“Yes, master. But what if it’s a white boy?” she
unemotionally said as she some sex slave machine only
for black guys. Because, up to her breath of now
breathing the winter air of Beverly Hills, for the
last seven weeks, she had protected sex with three to
five ugly black guys a day. And every night very late,
in the dark, low black music playing on the portable
radio, except when she lightly menstruated, she had
her black master’s grossly thick black penis, just
resting hard up inside her in stretching her out all
around. So, she of just doing it all the time with her
black master’s, ugly black friends and her devil-
looking black master himself, took to sipping French
pink champagne.
“You dumb fucken’ ho’, ain’t ya’. There ain’t any
white guys here. And make sure nigger wear rubber. You
taking birth control pills?”
“Yes, master. You saw me take it this morning.”
“And put my stuff away.”
“I will, master. Master, may I go to salon?”
“What for? You just went to one last week.”
“My dark roots are showing. And I want to braid
it.”
“Yeah. I like it blonde.”
“Thank you.”
“Use that money in the refrigerator. There’s an
envelope in there, right?”
“Yes, master.”
“Just use that money. You want to go by limo or
taxi?”
“I don’t want to make a fuss. I’ll just call a
taxi. Uhmm. Can you get that maid to call, to see if
any are free, for this afternoon?”
“I’ll tell her, on the way out.”
 “Thank you, master. I’ll stop and get some chic
stuff. You’ll see. I’ll look special, tonight.”

She of being totally addicted to grossly huge

black penises, really loving to snort almost pure
cocaine nearly all the time; thought about that
refrigerator holding all her favorite goodies, and she
of rolling green acres cunningly lip-smiled. Yep. It
was going to be a fun, foxy day in doing what she
loved to do, party, she thought. And to that happy
thought, she watched as her devil-looking black master
walked toward two, white painted doors--that were ten-
feet high and five-feet wide, walk beyond these heavy
doors, and then come to close these doors behind him.
“He’s gonna’ sell the rest of that coke. Damn,
I’ll betcha’ he made a lot of fucken’ money. I better
stop at this champagne. He’ll want to push it in
tonight. As usual. Oh, shit, the way he just lets it
sit up there. Is he gonna’ fuck the shit out of me, or
what. Let’s see.” She looked at her flesh-pink
fingernails. “...I think I’ll go red nail polish with
dots of gold. Maybe I’ll get a tan suede outfit. Naw,
silk would be better...” That very same evening, this,
after eating lobster, French fries, corn on the cob,
and white wine with her devil-looking black master, in
that of a beachfront restaurant, she said as being
driven in that of a black painted limousine by a
Negro-American male chauffer, her devil-looking black
master, sitting next to her. Exiting the limousine,
she was escorted by her devil-looking black master to
that of a cement-bricked building--that lay almost to
the inner, outskirts of L.A. Soon, she said clad only
in that of pink leather high heel shoes bought that
late afternoon, and she now breathed of her easy
breath, in being naked whilst being filmed dirty
inside of the new Adult World Productions building,
located to the inner, outskirts of L.A. Smoothly she
took that of a hard, black-skinned penis nine inches
long, because, nine inches said as being real easy for
her but, she pretended that it wasn’t. For the next
five weeks, except when she lightly menstruated and
went to the beach and jogged to those days that she
menstruated, this, in the late afternoon to those 5
weeks, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz did the same thing she
had done in Silver City, Nevada. This’, in the saying
of being filmed, in that of X-rated scenes with ugly
black guys that loosely worked for Adult World
Productions, she even got filmed dirty with a couple
of white guys--that secretly loath her for being a
slave to the black man. To the late nights of those
five weeks in that of a Beverly Hills mansion, she
partied in cement pool mansions with that of well-
dressed, ugly black guys, beautiful, Caucasian-
American young women and beautiful, Mongol-American
young women giggling and prancing all around these
rich black guys rather ugly looking. And to these late
night parties blaring of black music and hideous,
jackass laughter, always hearing in the background
women screaming in light pain and saying ‘fuck me, or,
hearing, ‘fuck me, ‘harder, she came as to be led to
rich beds by black men, for free. But, only if her
devil-looking black master said so’. She always used
condoms, and if the black man, or, black men, said as
being too drunk to have sex with her, she would run
away and search for the protection of her devil-
looking black master. And she too, added to that short
screaming emanating from the rooms of a white mansion.
Sometimes, she smiled that of a pure evil white smile,
feeling that four inch, black penis ready to ejaculate
into soft rubber. Sometimes, she smiled that of a pure
evil white smile, feeling that ten inch, black penis
ready to ejaculate into soft rubber. She liked it. She
liked doing it all the time with the black man. She
fell to pure evil. And because of that, the Universe
grew sad and Earth ready itself for great destruction.
Sodom, for reason, again... Debbie. Sonja. To those
five weeks in Beverly Hills; except when she lightly
menstruated; every Friday and Saturday night, Richard
the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; rented that of a nice
hotel room located in downtown Sacramento, and then
taught his broken in white slave how to whore from
cement corner. She of absolute doll, her dyed, beach-
blonde hair dangling to her upraised cheeks perfume
powdered, looking innocent and sweet in having red
lipstick on her slender, pink-red lips, and she who
that had slept Friday afternoon away with her devil-
looking black master, in that of a nice hotel room,
always fetched $300, from her whoring just one white
man from street corner. Most of the time, she
separately hooked in at least four white men to a
hotel room on Friday night, and then did it again
Saturday night, thus, making her devil-looking black
master about $2,400 just on the weekend--as they slept
Sunday’s afternoon away. And the modest, addictive
pain that she felt nearly every single weekday’s late
afternoon, this, whilst being filmed as an interracial
porno actress for Adult World Productions, and whoring
Friday and Saturday nights for her devil-looking black
master, now told of her devil-looking black master
stuffing his sixteen and one-quarter inches of hard
black flesh, deeply up inside her quickly contracting,
climaxing, loose vagina. And then; without hardly
moving; he of Negro skin just rested his wildly
throbbing thickly, black-skinned penis, deep up inside
his white slave’s warmly shivering belly. She screamed
but once in the dark. “Ah!” After all, she of being
only 20 years of age, 5’3’’, 102 lbs, said very thin
of hip. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, in the dark, low
black music playing on the portable radio, her bare,
smooth, deeply suntanned back fully resting to that of
pink, silk satin sheets, limply spread her shapely
legs with having those golden-brown legs languidly
upraised, a bedroom’s opulence, all around in the
dark. To this white mansion’s bedroom, the young
morning sun just now streak reddish-gold from the
east. Her arms--that had been sunburned seven weeks
ago, from lounging around that of Nevada swimming
pools, and now that what breathed in being that of
deeply tanned golden-brown, rest near to that of her
fanned back, dyed blonde hair very clean. That pink
pillowcase pillow she rest the back of her head to,
adding to that fan’ look cascading over that pillow.
Fresh, red lipstick said to her pink-red lips and
those ready lips, slightly parted. Her elfin chin;
perfume powdered perfectly, surrendered to the gentle
left, and that white smile of naughty pleasure just
now fell on her face feeling privacy. She said as
being all alone in the dark becoming sun whiter, low
black music playing on the portable radio--that young
morning sun, streaking more strongly that of a
reddish-gold from the east. She said as being all
alone, again--that low radio, playing black music. She
said as being all alone, again, her legs spread. She
said as being all alone. That young sun, growing
stronger, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, knowing to be not
witnessed, pure privacy hers, wanted what now came to
be mindless addiction. Suddenly, with the palm of her
right hand, she quickly slapped the left buttock cheek
of her devil-looking black master several times,
letting him know that was as far as she could take
him; not that it mattered. Knowing she of once
innocence; now being inside that of a white mansion in
Beverly Hills, having black guys, nearly all the time,
whoring; she deliriously moaned in having her eyelids
gently closed. Her smooth, suntanned arms, now resting
above her fanned back, dyed blonde hair. She wanted to
breathe hard through her lips--like she use to;
instead, she mindlessly lifted her thin hips up an
inch and grunted, “Uhnghh.” Then, she screamed one
loud burst of, “Ah!” Her smoothly shaven, suntanned
legs, upraised ever so slightly and spread a little
further in that special way. Showing private, flesh-
white skin that bordered to her golden tan flesh, she
let her devil-looking black master slowly spear her
down one more inch, stuff down inside her, rest to
that known, hard stuffing of her, and then find his
sudden, totally hard black penis all the way resting
up inside her. Her elfin, limp chin and all that
follows, surrendered to the gentle left from what she
felt, nearly ever single late midnight for the last
seventeen weeks, and she now let her devil-looking
black master do what her devil-looking black master
had done, for the last 17 weeks. He of Negro skin lay
lightly on top of her Cleopatra-sized breasts, with
having his grossly huge, thickly throbbing black penis
just sitting hard up in her. “Ohhhhoooaahhh,” she
softly moaned into her black master’s right ear.
Feeling what she had felt for many late midnights’,
for the last seventeen weeks, her legs, comfortably
spread in that special way, the bottom of her clean,
soft feet now touching that silk satin sheet, her
right arm, tightly wrapped around the back of her
devil-looking black master’s black-skinned neck, her
left palm, rubbing her devil-looking black master’s
lower back, and she felt the bottom of her vagina
muscle getting slick real deep from the thick, long
black muscle just sitting way up inside her. The young
sun now showed everything, this, a first to those 17
weeks, and she softly moaned a moan that she had never
moaned before. “...Oh. Oh. Ohhhhooohahahaha. Oh. Oh.
Ohhhhooohahahaha. Oh. Oh. Ohhhhooohahahaha. Oh. Oh.
Ohhhhooohahahaha. Oh. Oh.” His white slave softly
voiced in flesh stretching pain gone dumbly addictive,
her skinny, yet shapely brown-colored legs, upraised
in being limply spread in that special way, her
smooth, deeply golden-brown arms, coming to rest above
her fanned out, dyed blonde hair very clean. Her
perfume powdered face; because she wanted it of such
to look that way for her devil-looking black master;
gently resting to the left in smelling fresh, clean
silk satin sheets all around her--that blanket to her
left, for later. Her eyelids gently closed in
intermittent pain, her mouth, her lips, opening fast
then, slowly closing to that pain felt. She grinded
her teeth a little. The young sun made her fully see
everything and she felt ashamed, seeing how ugly this
black man was. Looking, looking as Devil himself.
Then, taking shivering breath--that sounded as
‘owahhhawwwwowwhhhh; her squashed, Cleopatra-sized
breasts, unseeingly vibrating from her throat’s
saying, her eyelids opened wider with her soft tongue
saying, “The way. It. Just. Throbs. Oh, God, you’re
pushing it. Down. More. Owwwwwwwwwwaahhhhhhhhhh.
Ohhhhoooaahhh. Oh. It’s squeezing you. Oh. Oh.
Ohhhhoooaahhh. Oh. Oh. Ohhhoooaahhh. Oh. Oh.
Ohhhhoooahhhh. Oh. Oh. Ohhhhhhoooahhh. Thank you. Ah.
Yeah. Hmm. Thank you, so much, master. Hmm. Ow. I love
your cock. Aw. Hmm. It’s so. So big. In...in, my
cunt.” Then--as usual, she had no choice but to scream
but once. “Aw!”
 “Grab that shit, ho’.”
That young morning sun shined well to her seeing
of colors, this, as she lay to a big bed with her bare
back in feeling that hard, thick gutted feeling of
sixteen, grossly thick inches up inside her belly. She
was now use to him not going in and out.
“Ah.” She, whimpering this, slightly spread her
brown-colored legs wider to the ugly feel of it all.
“Wha’. Ow. Hmm. What, master? Ahh, yeah. Hmm.” She
couldn’t help but to scream but once. “Aw!”
“Grab my dick and jerk it off.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz raised her head from that
soft pillow encased in pink silk, sensing beyond that
French door and its garden balcony, white sunshine and
starting blue sky, and her lazy, sex-filled eyes told
her that her devil-looking black master still told as
being locked hard way up inside her. She deeply
relaxed her anus muscle--that had not been penetrated
for the last 17 weeks, letting that loose muscle above
her sphincter, relax, also. And she did so, whilst
grunting, “Uhghh.” She, thinking that her devil-
looking black master to soon sleep--as usual, and then
heard she suddenly, “Bitch! I said grab my dick!” Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz promptly planted her elbows beside
her torso and looked downward and beyond her
bellybutton area. Seeing what she breathed in seeing,
her richly brown-colored legs, comfortably spread in
being upraised in that special way, her Polish-
American brown eyes widened with her saying of, “Oh,
my, God!” She couldn’t believe what she was now
seeing. Up there in her rippling hard belly, she could
see the outline of her black master’s grossly huge,
rock-hard black penis and at least four inches of this
his solid muscle, could be seen resting beyond her
model bellybutton. Richard the Negro; #23 of ‘Blue;
had not ejaculated in seventeen weeks, thus, his black
penis now said harder and a little thicker than usual.
“It’s. What the,” she said with that young sun
showing everything. “It’s. Way. Up there. Ahh. Ahh.
Uhhngg. Ow. Yeah! Hmm. Yeah! Hmm. Master. You’re.
You’re finally. Hmm. Going to fuck me. Ow. Hmm. Aren’t
you? I. Hmm. Aw. Have my cunt. Have it. Fuck me. Aw.
Uhnnggghh. My cunt. For you.”
“Yeah! That’s how you hos’ like it! Now grab my
shit and jerk it off!”
She of white slave, rested the majority of her
weight onto her planted, left elbow, brought the palm
of her right hand to her bellybutton area, which
caused her puffed belly to contract with hard/soft
muscle feeling known pain, and worriedly giggled in
looking at what she said as doing. It felt as she said
talking to no one, in her saying of, “Oh, my, God. Ow.
Ahh. I can. Feel it. Oh, master. Ah. Hmm. Ohhungggh.
You’re. Ahh. Ow. Yeah! Hmm. You’re throbbing right
through me.” She of white slave for the black man,
nervously giggled from the way her devil-looking black
master just sat up there, low black music playing on
the portable radio and she moved the palm of her right
hand up-and-down in masturbating her devil-looking
black master, through the golden suntanned skin of her
belly. She of white slave to the black man, not
realizing that her outer, totally stretched to the
brimming, loose flesh-pink, corkscrewed vagina,
breathed in pinkly massaging three, broad inches of
the thick, vein-laden base of her devil-looking black
master. In and to the first of that young sun’s
morning, she felt what she had never felt before. Her
naked body fully rested back to that pink, silk satin
sheet, finally feeling her devil-looking black master
gradually massaging his thick, long, slick hard,
black-colored muscle in and out of her. Feeling the
palm of her right hand rest to her bellybutton area,
her legs, being pushed back a little, did so force her
mind to say of her tongue’s telling. “...Ah.” Then, to
those first, in and out, real long, broad strokes, she
barely whispered, “Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah.
Ah. Ah. Aw...Aw...Aw.” Then, she couldn’t help but to
scream but once. “Ah!” She giggled from her sudden
scream, the palm of her right hand, still masturbating
her devil-looking black master, through the skin of
her muscled belly, her left elbow, coming to plant to
the big bed, her legs, spread up in the air a little.
“...Ohawwww. Ahh. Finally. Finally, you’re moving.
Moving in me. Yes. Yes. Yes. Thank you. Thank you,
master.” She lay straight on her back and arched her
lower spine in feeling moving pain that made her
grunt. “...Uhhngg.” She adeptly grabbed the back of
her knees and said to this new pain that felt
different from the pain that she had been getting for
the last seventeen weeks, “Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah.
Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Oh, my, God! Aw!
Yeah! Hmm. I’m. I’m. I’m. Squeezing on it!
Ahhhhaaoooawwwwhhhmmmm. Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! You’re
slinging it on me! Yeah! Hmm. Yeah! Hmm. Yeah! Hmm.
Show! Me! How! Hmm. You can fuck with it! Oh! Yeah!
Hmm. Yeah! Hmm. Yeah! Hmm. That’s! That’s! That’s
right! Ahh. I’m. Fucking. You. Ahh. Yeah! Hmm.” She
caught her breath and smiled that of a pure evil white
smile, her hands, now gripping black-skinned, thin
elbows; her suntanned, skinny, yet shapely legs
lightly spread up in the air. Her inner, loose flesh-
pink corkscrewed vagina painfully contracted around
her black master’s grossly huge, thick, hard black
penis, her innermost puff-wrecked belly, warmly
shivering in having her third orgasm feeling nice to
that deep pain shooting back and forth into her, over
and over, and she lightly wiggled her bottom back to
that pink, silk satin sheet--as her devil-looking
black master rested in breathing hard. In the white
sunshine of this starting day, she smiled that of a
pure evil white smile with her legs now comfortably
spread, the bottom of her feet to that silk satin
sheet colored pink, and she did so, while now
masturbating her devil-looking black master with the
gripping palm of her right hand, through the taunt
skin of her American belly. She heard her devil-
looking black master, say, “You my downtown whore,
ain’t ya’?”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz lightly squirm her thin
hips to escape black hips pining her down to that of a
hard, soft silk-covered mattress very thick, it felt
as she could hardly breathe then, moaning through her
nose and mouth, she lightly sank her smooth, golden-
brown left shoulder down in that special way and
grunted, “Ah. Yeah. Hmm.” And then let her devil-
looking black master go in and out of her slick, loose
vagina muscle as he will. And softly she moaned to
what she had waited weeks for. “...Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah.
Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Yeah. Hmm. Yeah. Hmm. Yeah. Hmm. Yes.
Yes. Yes. I’m. Ah. Your whore, baby,” she said with
her brown-colored face moving deliriously side to
side, and her moving chin looked near perfect to that
pain she was now use to. To that young morning sun,
she wrapped her left arm around the back of her black
master’s neck, whilst throwing her thin hips up.
“...Fuck me. Ah. Fuck me, master,” she forcefully
whispered, sensing that young morning sun. “Oh, God,
please fuck me hard.” She couldn’t help but to scream
to that one, long, deep, resting plunge of sixteen,
thick inches. “...Aw!” She felt this her word of deep,
stretching pain excite her devil-looking black master,
and she sensed harder, faster painful plunges at any
second. The look of sudden worry came over her
suntanned face perfectly done in perfume powder
makeup, her natural pink-red lips, still coated in
deep, dark-red lipstick very expensive--as she felt
that addictive pain of what she expected and, now
mindlessly wanted in and out of her, real fast.
“...Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw!
Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Yeah! Hmm. Yeah! Hmm. Yeah! Hmm.
Oh, baby. Baby. You’re really fucking me.” She giggled
because it felt so dumbly good. Her devil-looking
black master, roughly grabbed the back of her knees,
spreading her legs wider, and her doll face turned to
sudden, happy surprise, this, whilst she threw her
left arm back in landing next to her left ear, moved
the palm of her right hand to her bellybutton area,
and then massaged her taunt skin up-and-down, with the
palm of her right hand. “...Yeah! Hmm. Slam it!” She
said. “Fuck me! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw!
Awwaaahmmmmm! Aw! Yeah! Hmm. Aw! Aw! Aw! Yeah! Hmm.
Aw! Aw! Uhh, baby. Yeah! Hmm. Please. Please let me
rest my pussy a little. Aaaaaoooowwwwwwww! Aw! Aw! Aw!
I want it to last, baby. I want it to last. Aw! Aw!
Aw! Yeah! Hmm. Oh, go ahead! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck
me! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Ow! O’ God, you’re
fucking meeeeee’, aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw!” Her
devil-looking black master pulled straight out of her
wrapping folds of pink flesh looking grotesque to eye
and deeply corkscrewed. And she involuntarily moaned,
“Oh,” whilst mechanically raising her skinny legs up
in the air in that of a comfortable butterfly spread.
To this, she still lay mindlessly holding her
bellybutton area, with the palm of her right hand, her
left arm, resting near her left ear.
As her devil-looking black master lay back to
bed, she of white slave to the black man, did not have
to be told to take her devil-looking black master in
hand and put as much hard black flesh as she could,
between her lips coated in red lipstick. She heard to
her two hands loudly sucking, “Bitch, tonight, there
are some dumb fucks’. That are going to have a Satan
ritual, down there in San Fransico. When they tell
you, you gonna’ get on top of an alter and let them
fuck you. And make sure nigger wears rubber.”
“Yes, master.”
“And that means up the ass too, ho’. Now get on
top of me and ride that shit...”

Driving that of a brand-new, heavy-duty Chevy van

all the way to the outskirts of Morris, Illinois; the
last six nights, spent holed up naked in hotel suites;
her devil-looking black master told her to stop at
that gas station down over there, so as he could use
the payphone. And he of Negro skin; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
talked to Henry the flaming faggot, about Freddy.

Miss Patricia Olkeweitz walked into her black

master’s oversized kitchen, in naturally being three
steps behind her devil-looking black master.
Straightaway, she sweepingly eyed of eight slaves
lounging on adult beanbag seats that held to the near
middle of the oversized living room. And all eight of
these slaves said as watching one of her black
master’s muscular black friends, slowly thrusting his
black penis inside that of a white slave--that rested
her belly and chest to that of a beanbag seat. She
could see catching to feet’s balled feet and curled
toes to that hardwood floor gleaming blond buffeted,
matching the slow, sexual strokes of that black man
rather muscular. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz could only
see the muscular black-colored back of her black
master’s black friend, because, that white slave,
laying belly and chest to that of a beanbag seat,
beneath her black master’s black friend, did so have
her face unseen near that of a blond hardwood floor
very clean, the seen bottom feet and toes of that
white slave, strongly curled in catching each long
stroke. And softly grunted this white slave did with
each thick, long thrust. Then--that white slave
suddenly screeched as a little girl, in obvious pain
while slightly raising that little, tight rear-slave’
to the black man deeply inside that slave. That white
slave pressed palms to a hardwood floor. That white
slave’s blue eyes, looking down at that tightly
planked floor. That white slave, resting belly and
chest to a beanbag seat. The white slave rested the
top part of her feet to the hardwood floor, those
curled toes on the hardwood floor, saying that white
slave had done this before, and then this white slave
pushed back her white hips in feeling wanted pain,
right where it hurt.
That naked black man; #25 of wing ‘Blue; fully
pulled his totally hard, grossly huge, thirteen inch
black penis from the rear of that white slave, and
then stood in looking down at what that of hard black
flesh had wrecked of pink anus sphincter, once again.
To that--this white slave’s belly and chest to that of
a beanbag seat, turned she her chin to the left; Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz, still not seeing who this white
slave was; and this white slave took the motions to
place her right hand to that of a wooden bowl holding
washcloth submersed under soap-bubbled’ water.
Squeezing the wet washcloth, this white slave lovingly
used that washcloth to clean that of a thirteen inch
black penis--that already told as being relatively
clean and pulsating wildly. The only thing Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz could witness to eye of this sexual
act twenty paces in front of her, said that of the
burly, black back of her black master’s black friend,
and her black master’s black friend, had a really ‘big
ass, she subconsciously thought. She turned to the
right, and her eyes went away from this sight said as
being evil to many’, and within five to six seconds,
she had two cans of unopened beer in her hands.
Standing to the right of her devil-looking black
master, she raised her left hand to give a can of beer
to her black master looking as Devil. Then, she turned
her elfin chin to the right, subconsciously, wanting
to see what slave said as ‘getting it, to her fresh,
afternoon face.
“Fred!” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz screamed as she
the condemning voice of God Almighty.

Fred; lovingly washing that of a grossly huge

black penis with that of a washcloth, slightly moved
his seated body to the beanbag seat that he sat naked
on, and peeked from the left side of a black-skinned
hip rather chubby muscular and big, and then eyed the
pretty face of his fiancée, twenty paces away. Fred
also eyed of Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue;
standing next to his pretty fiancée--as if he of Negro
skin, her boyfriend.
“Patty!” Fred breathed in being greatly
embarrassed, but he now loved to individually suck on
grossly huge black penises, and then have those hard
black penises individually enter his flesh-pink anus,
plus, the almost pure cocaine could be said as being
nearly nonstop. Fred now moved in life as being that
of a proverbial ‘nigger lover. Sodom, for reason,
again...
“...I,” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz heard from her
beloved fiancée. “I was just messing around! I don’t
mean it!”
“Freddy my white ho’ now, Patty. He sell best ass
in Chicago.” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz did not even feel
the can of beer being lightly taken from her slightly
raised, frozen left hand, her Polish-American brown
eyes, in that state of mental shock. “...He in charge
of Nice Guys Escort Service. He millionaire with
Henry. You ready, Freddy, for my candy!?”
 Fred had heard of the madhouse rumors, from the
Nice Girls Escort Service call girls, all of these
call girls, bisexual. Suddenly, he became more than
fearful from what he knew would stretch his now loose,
flesh-pink anus muscle in that of new, total pain.
Fred, well knowing that his fiancée had done the
master of this Victorian madhouse, rumored black
penis, for the last eighteen weeks. And said he of now
loving the black penises that swung around in this
Victorian madhouse, this, “I. Well. If you go gentle.
And let me suck on it slow. Like this.” Fred; naked
and comfortably seated to that of a beanbag seat, his
lilywhite legs, having blond-peach colored hair
showing from the thighs down, his four and one-quarter
inch, flesh-colored penis, fully erect, his bare feet,
planted to the blond hardwood floor rather warm;
reached out with his right hand and expertly gripped
that of a vein-laden, thick, hard black penis thirteen
inches long. Fred, to his learned grip’, couldn’t wrap
the fingers of his right hand around that black muscle
that he had cause to be hard, and he smiled that of a
pure evil white smile, just from seeing that’. In so
having this thick, long black penis in his gripping
right hand, he opened his mouth as wide as he could,
moved his head forward, and then wrapped his Germanic,
pink-red lips around what he now loved to do. “...Hmm.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz heard her beloved fiancée
moan in that special way. Well did she take note that
this standing, naked black man that held the base of
his own black penis in his right hand, and letting her
beloved fiancée suck on his plumb-sized penis head,
looked nearly the same size as her devil-looking black
master. Fred, mindlessly sucking on that of a huge
black penis head, his right hand, expertly twirling
around thick black flesh, knew that the black master
of this Victorian madhouse, would do him any way that
he wanted. But, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s beloved
fiancée did not know that Richard the Negro; #23 of
wing ‘Blue; would only stuff in half of his sixteen
and one quarter inches up Fred’s broken in, flesh-pink
anus once a week for a couple of weeks, because,
Richard the Negro; #23 of wing ‘Blue; knew Fred would
eventually beg to have the whole thing stuck way up
inside his loose, flesh-pink anus. Beg, whilst Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz’s beloved fiancée screamed to be
savagely raped. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, seeing her
beloved fiancée lovingly suck on that of a grossly
huge black penis, ran upstairs to the nearest bedroom
and cried. She hated the black man full measure. That
evening, after eating rare filet mignon, baked potato
and sour cream, fried onions and fried mushrooms,
sipped with red Burgundy wine, asparagus to the side,
and then spending two hours of lightly walking around
this Victorian madhouse--that she had only known for
three days, nakedness and cursing, nearly everywhere,
she smoothly sat to that of a fine tan leather couch,
a knee-high table holding heavy chessboard, resting
before her. There said blond Lebanese hardwood beneath
her black leather high heel shoes very costly. Her
smart, silk-cotton, tan-brown, knee-high dress looking
wrinkle-proof, smoothly covering and cascading down
between her suntanned thighs comfortably spread. In so
being comfortably seated to the very edge of this fine
tan leather couch, she bent over at the waist, picked
up a coke straw, and confidently began snorting almost
pure cocaine right from that small pile’. And she did
so do all this, with Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; sitting
naked to the right of her. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz had
boldly sat to where she sat, because, to the immediate
left of her devil-looking black master, there sat that
of a beautiful young woman, trying to get the
attention of the black master of this Victorian
madhouse. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz breathed in being
very confused and she breathed so, because of
mindlessly feeling jealously. This beautiful young
woman--that said as gabbing to her devil-looking black
master, gabbed about a customer that was rich and
wanted to place huge sport wagers through her. And did
she of gabbing, grace dark-black cascading hair
naturally curled and showed pretty face Spanish-white
and smooth, not only that, she looked as she ready for
some ballroom dance. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz had sat
to the right of her devil-looking black master, to
snort up almost pure cocaine, and she sat back fully
to fine tan leather, in feeling safe with her devil-
looking black master to the immediate left of her,
this, as she felt almost pure cocaine drip down her
throat. She was high again; you could see it on her
face. He of Negro skin; Earl, #27 of wing ‘Blue; still
seated to the right of Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, stood
to his bare feet, and he stood in standing not more
than a reach away from Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s right
arm, a right arm, covered from that smart, tan-suede
dress that tightly reached her wrists. Naturally, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz turned her elfin chin to the right,
and looked up at this standing, naked black man. This
standing black man that breathed in being naked,
swinishly grinned down at her, and she didn’t even
know his name. Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; eyed of that
sudden pure evil white smile emanating from the new
white slave’s adorable face--as she happily sat back,
crossed her arms below her breastplate, and glanced
down at his black, semi-soft penis. To and from her
come to be staring eyes measuring long, black inches,
he of Negro skin felt his black penis swelling to that
of being ready to have sex with a slave, and Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz said as being the nearest slave at
hand. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, who that seemed for the
last eighteen weeks near constantly in a forced state
of ‘I’ll be ready, ‘for it, stared at the standing
black man’s private area, quickly lowered her
surrendering white smile from knowing the seriousness’
of the situation, and slightly widened her Polish-
American brown eyes, whilst thinking, “Oh, no, I’m
back to these guys.” Hatefully knowing that her
impeccably dressed, beloved fiancée, said sitting next
to silk-robed Henry the flaming faggot, in taking
telephone calls for Nice Guys Escort Service and,
making computer video gangsta’ games that were
selling--like hotcakes. Freddy millionaire with Henry
the flaming faggot. And then, she noticed two,
beautiful Caucasian-American, teenaged boys dressed in
brand-new gray cotton sweatpants, brand-new white
cotton T-shirt, brand-new white cotton socks, and
brand-new white tennis shoes. I mean to her, these
teenaged white boys, looked as Nordic goddesses.
Really, she just wanted to hold them and just hug
them. It was that long ago, ancient blood in her,
seeing those cheek chiseled faces that she knew could
sire out of her. But once upon a-time, she had that
feeling’ with Fred and it all just left this American
girl, cold. She now wanted what her mom had. American
dream. Turning her glancing eyes to the big color TV,
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz well noticed that standing
black man looking down at her swinishly, he of
unnatural wide grin, using his right hand to raise his
semi-soft, vein-laden black penis, his black face,
widely grinning stupidly. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz;
seeing this black man stroke down long then, stroke
back up, noticing how fast this fat, black-colored
penis started to get harder and longer; knew such said
the signal of command, and this command, said for her
to reach out and perform oral sex on one of her black
master’s, ugly black friends. She did that’ nearly all
the time with the black man, and then she would lay
down with the black man. Quickly turning her elfin
chin to the left, she humbly asked her devil-looking
black master--that sat to her left in watching TV,
“Master, may I have a different bedroom?”
“You can sleep with me, for a couple of weeks.”
This turned some chins in the Victorian madhouse
and Earl; #27 of wing ‘Blue; calmly walked away to
have immediate sex with another slave.
“Really?” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz beamed. “Oh,
thank you! Thank you, master! I love you. I whore my
pussy only for you, baby. Master.”
“That’s your problem. Take my shoes off and wash
my feet. Rub some lotion in it. And turn that fucken’
music down! Shit. Fucken’ madhouse.”
To the seventeen months of Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz willingly being that of a high-priced, Nice
Girls Escort Service call girl--this is told of those
seventeen months, in witness... Calling her mother
once every month and lying that she said as being well
in California without Fred... “Mom! I already told
you! I don’t have a phone, yet! I’m calling from a
phone booth! I will.” Debbie. Sonja. I witness her
exercising as hard as she could every single day in
that Victorian madhouse basement and carefully dieting
during those seventeen months. Taking to sauna every
other day to sweat out poisons, she did. Never
thinking where heaven is, she, and, being raped all
the way by #23 of wing ‘Blue and his sixteen and one-
quarter inches, whenever her devil-looking black
master felt like it. She, being raped all the way by
#24 of wing ‘Blue and his twelve and three-quarter
inches, whenever he felt like it. She, being raped all
the way by #25 of wing ‘Blue and his thirteen inches,
whenever he felt like it. She, being raped all the way
by #26 of wing ‘Blue and his thirteen and one-half
inches, whenever he felt like it. She, being raped all
the way by #27 of wing ‘Blue and his fourteen and one-
quarter inches, whenever he felt like it. She, being
raped all the way by #28 of wing ‘Blue and his
fourteen and three-quarter inches, whenever he felt
like it. And she, being raped all the way by #29 of
wing ‘Blue and his thirteen and one-half inches,
whenever he felt like it. So, to the call girl,
Midwest breath of her harvested now, knowing she had
that regular, Chicago customer tonight in that regular
hotel room, champagne bottle and all, Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz found her little, afternoon tail flaunting
to be fully pained, in that of a black marble-decked
Jacuzzi, which held to the clean basement of this
Victorian madhouse. In so having that palm-fitting
backside of hers raised up professionally in the air,
happily holding the black marble edge of the Jacuzzi,
#27 of wing ‘Blue, sunk his grossly huge, thick, long
and vein-laden, hard black penis all the way up inside
her very loose, corkscrewed pink-flesh vagina. To that
swift sinking of all the way’, she of rolling green
acres gently lowered her lightly watered eyelids in
that of total thrall and newfound worship, and grunted
she, “Uhhunngghhh,” and then she smiled that of a
malapert, pure evil white smile. “...Yeah. Hmm. Push
it. All the...Ahh. Yeah. Hmm. That’s how I like it.
Yeah. Hmm. Let me push. Back on that shit. Oh. Yeah.
Hmm. It’s right on top of me. Up, in there. Dig it up,
baby. Dig it, up.” And when he of uncaring, Negro skin
felt the deep muscle slick of this white slave, he
began thrusting his black hips back and forth as hard
as he could. She of constant, malapert, pure evil
white smile, grinded her little bottom downward to
tame spearing savagery well known, and wanted she it
of the ugly such, to mindlessly last--like that. Chest
grunting, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz did--as she spread
her skinny, yet shapely legs ever so little, wanting
she to peek downward between her snow-white thighs to
better her thrall and new worship. And said she to
what she now worshipped, “...Yeah. Hmm. Yee-haw! Ride
that shit cowboy! Fuck me. Just. Like. That. Aw. Aw.
Aw. Aw. Aw. Aw. Aw. Aw. Yeah. Hmm. Oh. Yeah. Hmm. Fuck
that shit all up. Put your thumb up my ass. Yeah.
Hmm.” This--as some of the female slaves exercised as
hard as they could in the having of a devil-grinned
smile on their slave faces, while a couple of white,
teenaged male slaves nonchalantly showered in the open
stall shower, in having a devil-grinned smile, also.
Then--as I witness, they of being gradually worn-out
of vaginal muscle and just as much, anal muscle,
having slack face and void of mind’s gay eye, rich
customers, saying, ‘do you have another girl, ‘by
chance. Rich customers saying, ‘do you have another
girl, ‘by chance, ‘she’s kinda’ too loose for me.
Then, they of that what harvested from the Midwest and
took the fat of the land, took these slaves not
wanted’ and sold them to the block. And once this
Midwest harvest was sold on the block, nine times out
of ten, these pretty Caucasian-American young women
and young men, too, Mongol-American young women and
young men, too, would eventually end up doing long
stretches of time in jail, or, end up in that of a
hospital for the insane. Not to mention painfully
dying from AIDS--that hard-shelled animal Debbie had
unleashed unto the world through General Binnicher,
for reason...

Midwest, American slaves and Chicago slaves were

being sold quicker now--that 2000 AD, now, and Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz fearfully clutched that of an
undersized duffel bag--that held some of her whore
clothes and other important things, such as cheap
jewelry and makeup articles. And that young sun shined
crystal blue in that way such does to late May.
Further saying more than just the weather, is that two
black guys had taken her important documents, one
such, being her driver’s license. Looking around, now
having no ID, she eyed of eight, female white slaves
and one Oriental-looking slave, sitting cross-legged
on the clean metallic floor of this heavy-duty van--
that she sat cross-legged in. She glanced at the red
curtain that hid the two black drivers that had taken
her important documents. These two, black drivers were
members of the Dark Disciples; #27 of wing ‘Blue, and
#29 of wing ‘Blue; and within the last seventeen
months, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz had been separately
raped thirty-one times by the both of them. All ten of
these slaves; sitting cross-legged on the clean
metallic floor of this heavy-duty van, were dressed in
that of gray cotton sweatpants, white cotton T-shirt,
white cotton socks, and white tennis shoes. A good two
hours later, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz well knew she be
to Chicago, feeling that unseen traffic she knew all
too well. “You bitches’ make a run for it, you’re
done!” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz heard from one of the
unseen black drivers, knowing this voice to be Earl;
#27 of wing ‘Blue. The van made that of a hard left,
slowly drove on what felt as to be gravel and
continued on for approximately fifty yards, and then
stopped. She sensed and heard the driver’s side window
being lowered, and then heard the voice of a black man
that had raped her repeatedly, within the last
seventeen months. “...Open the doors!” She heard ‘must
be, huge, sliding wooden doors on that of rollers. The
van drove forward for about twenty feet and turned
left, and then parked. All ten of these slaves had
terror on their pretty faces harvested from the
Midwest of America. She suddenly heard the two front
doors of the van being opened, and then slammed shut.
She heard muffled shouts, and then she saw the back
doors of the van bursting wide open.
“Get the fuck out, you bunch of cunts’! And go
stand behind that wooden crate!”
 All ten of these still rather pretty, female
slaves, fearfully held their undersized duffel bag and
followed the agile girl in front of them, each one of
them, desperately needing a line of almost pure
cocaine, or at least a shot of Rum. Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz said of herself--as being to the near front
rear of the van and she eyed of what had to be that of
an old, red-bricked wooden roof warehouse, bright
white sunlight, streaming through that of six, huge
dirty windows. Cigarette smoke and marijuana smoke
hung heavy and still in that streaking sunshine so
still. Immediately; she of sired beauty first glance
seen, noted that of a large number of separately
grouped, pimp-dressed’ black men, and then glanced to
the sweeping left, while walking forward in not
knowing where she breathed as going. In her white
tennis shoes walking on that of smooth, grime-stained
cement, an undersized duffel bag clutched in her left
hand, the fingers of her right hand, brushing back
loose, dark, golden-brown bangs from her worried
forehead, she eyed of at least fifty slaves loosely
grouped together, and all of these slaves were dressed
in that of gray cotton sweatpants, white cotton T-
shirt, white cotton socks, and white tennis shoes.
Slaves that were a majority of female Caucasian-
Americans, and to say right, a handful of female
Mongol-Americans. Slightly to the left of these
worried looking, female slaves all dressed the same,
she eyed of five, Caucasian-American, teenaged male
slaves looking as lost sheep. Then, she eyed of that
waist-high, heavy wooden crate that separated fifty or
so slaves, from two dozen or so black-skinned pimps,
most of these black-skinned pimps, wearing floppy,
uptown hats. And she of white slave, took fast steps
to near that loosely huddled group of slaves dressed
the same. Slaves--that nervously glanced at the block.
Hearing she one’ from the crowd of Negro-American,
male pimps, this... “Hey! Here be Richards’s crew!”
And that of a loud cheer and clapping of hands issued
forth from these black pimps, because, the Dark
Disciples sold the best’. And so, the auction of
discarded harvest now set to begin at $12,000.
 Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, thirty-odd minutes
later, seeing slave after slave step up and onto that
of a wooden crate, now found her nervous breath soon
standing atop that wooden crate.
“Drop that shit down, bitch!”
She mechanically pulled down her gray cotton
sweatpants to her ankles and stood straight of her 21-
year-old spine, her lightly hair-covered Venus mound,
exposed to black men wanting to buy her. She then felt
the hands of five, black strangers, unemotionally
inspecting her private parts, both forward and rear.
Within two minutes of this inspection of cleanliness’
to face and body’s private area, she heard from that
well-dressed black man...
“This cute, porno star, her dark-brown hair,
streaking of gold. Starts at sixteen thousand’.”
“Seventeen’!” She heard a Negro-American male
pimp, from the back of this black-skinned crowd, bid
that amount.
“Seventeen fifty’!” She heard from that pimp-
dressed’ black man to the front of the black-skinned
crowd. She looked closer at this black man bidding on
her, and eyed of his brand-new shoes. As a matter of
fact, she eyed of brand-new shoes, everywhere.
“Nineteen thousand’!” She heard coming from the
back of this crowd of black-skinned pimps.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz fearfully glanced around,
her gray cotton sweatpants around her ankles, her
dark-brown, hair-covered Venus mound, showing to these
Negro-American males greedily looking at what sold the
best. She had sudden urge for Henry’s; the flaming
faggot; spaghetti and meatballs, because, she felt
very hungry. Hearing Miss Patricia Olkeweitz from that
well-dressed, Negro-American male caring less if she
starved to death, this...
“Nineteen thousand’! Do I hear twenty’? No? Then
nineteen’ going once. Twice. Sold.”

Thirty-odd seconds later; gray cotton sweatpants

past raised to her thin waist, she came as to be held
of left elbow and unceremoniously escorted by the
black man that had bought her. In and to her being
escorted, she thought that this pimp-dressed’, black
man that had bought her--as being one of the ugliest
things in the world. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz thought
many thoughts... “Jesus, he looks like King Kong,”
thus, causing unwanted confusion to her brain, and in
this state of being, she was escorted outside the old
warehouse to that of a 4-door Buick convertible, and
then so directed to the white leather back seat of
this 4-door Buick. Nervously holding her precious,
undersized duffel bag, she eyed that of a gorgeous
blonde, sitting in the back seat of this white leather
Buick, and slid in near her, and she did so while
feeling the car’s heavy door to her left, being
slammed shut. “Hi,” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz said with
that type of nervous lip-smile on her uneasy face.
This gorgeous, blond-haired, young woman resting to
white leather, stared blankly forward, and Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz took that of a deep breath in
knowing why she did. They were slave whores for the
black man. A long seven minutes passed in silence--as
these two American women stared at that barbwire fence
and the girl softly breathing next to Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, now turned her chin to the right, and then
stared out the car’s window. Staring, staring at
nothing she, because, she, hope of race, now breathed
in being nothing to the more important world; she,
white slave whore for the black man. She thought, she
thought as to kill herself. Debbie. Sonja. O’ God the
tears down my eyes. That song, ‘you’ll just have to
wait. There. Debbie. Sonja. The tears are wiped away.
Poverty. U.S. poverty, U.S. poverty growing that 2000
AD day. Poverty. American poverty that made ‘Son of
Sam, to be. Poverty that much--this white slave wants
to kill herself. And here come the rooster, again--as
the left rear passenger door came as to be opened by
that of a pimp-dressed’, ugly black man, and that of
another female white slave slid fast her little bottom
next to Miss Patricia Olkeweitz. “Hi,” Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz smiled that of a white smile, seeing this
slender, young woman, holding to left hand that of an
undersized duffel bag holding clothes and other
important things. But, she too, had no ID. And the
left rear passenger door of the 4-door Buick came to
be slammed shut by that ugly black man dressed as pimp.
“You Richard’s stable?” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
heard from this pretty, dark-haired girl looking
similar to her.
“Yeah. I. He.”
“Is it true?”
“Yeah. It’s true.”
“I had one almost as big, for two years. I guess
it helps. You hit Vegas?”
“Yeah. I. He. What...what do you think will
happen to us, now?”
“You’re kidding me, right? Baby. You’re to the
block. Hey, you got any coke? I got a joint.”

Anything said better than what she now was, a

street corner whore. A Chicago, street corner that
said of a dividing line between Caucasian-Americans
and Negro-Americans, and the ‘nigger only bar--that
she hooked in front of, said that she moved in life as
being that of a streetwalking whore for black guys
only. If. If she would have strutted her whore ass
seven to eight hundred yards south then, she would
have been that of a streetwalking whore only for white
guys. And she longed for that side that said ‘this
whore is only for white guys, because, she lived in
that of a living black nightmare. Across the one-way
street where that she hooked for a black guy that had
bought her on the block, there lay that of a four-
story, red-bricked building, a red-bricked building
owned by fat Mike White; #1 of wing ‘Blue. Within the
gut of that four-story, red-bricked building, this, in
that of a poor room, she of streetwalking whore slept
the noon away on that of a single mattress--that lay
to a floor made of hard wood. Chained she of rolling
green acres during most of the daylight hours, in that
of a one room dwelling with another female white
slave, and that chain reached the bathroom. To her and
her roommate’s streetwalking, waking hours, about
seven o’clock at night, she and her roommate would be
unchained by that Negro-American, female hulk, called
Bonita. To add, black-skinned, Bonita, went to sixteen
poor rooms and unchained thirty slaves, this, in the
saying of sixteen, white female slaves, seven,
Oriental-looking female slaves, and seven, white male
slaves. And in this four-story, red-bricked building,
these miserable slaves lived the same way as Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz the streetwalking, whore. At least
in the Victorian madhouse; a call girl/boy madhouse
where that she had been prisoner, driven in limousines
and then have meaningless sex with rich men nearly
every single night, never seeing the hundreds of
dollars that had been paid to just have her for a
couple of hours, raped once every two weeks by her
devil-looking black master, and just as much, being
raped by her black master’s black-skinned friends,
nearly all the time, she could watch TV, listen to
music, read, look at that fireplace, stand in front of
a air-conditioner, exercise in the basement, take a
sauna in the basement, laugh, get high on grass and
almost pure cocaine, drink beer and champagne all the
time, and other nice call girl things, such as sitting
down to that of a nice meal cooked by ‘nigger slaves.
Now, she whore for the black man just so as not to get
punched in the stomach, painfully razor cut on her
upper legs and buttock cheeks, slapped on the face,
painfully cattle-pronged, whipped by a leather belt,
or nearly kicked to death. She, American whore for the
black man. To the breath of her now, she whore just to
stay alive. And the U.S. Government--that seems to
care for the whole world and not care for its own’,
didn’t give one good damn about poor Miss Patricia
Olkeweitz, formerly of rolling green acres. As a
matter-of-fact, they of faceless political whore,
seemed to encourage sex slavery, or at the very least,
bombastically say to white office hall, ‘that’s too
bad. ‘That money is to go to Africa, ‘not to some
whore on the street... Just like the political whores
they are.
Now to the living black nightmare of her life--as
in all slaves, they need food, clothing, and shelter.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz always ate at the black only’
bar that her pimp-dressed’, new black master owned.
This black only’ bar sold fare such as French-fries,
hamburgers, roast beef sandwiches, ham sandwiches, and
hot pork sandwiches. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz always
dressed as that of a street whore and the nastier she
dressed, the better for her new black master, and this
slut clothing that hung in that of a closet that held
to that of a poor room, said shared with another
female white slave. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz did so
live in that of a poor room--as this told in that
lumpy mattress that she slept the noon away on. Also,
there held one dresser bureau to store her slut
clothing, makeup articles atop that dresser bureau,
and a cheap toilet and tub said of the needed need.
One month ago, there were three female white slaves in
this same poor room, but one female white slave had
made a ‘run for it. To that white slave runaway, Miss
Patricia Olkeweitz’s new black master, talked to one
of the members of the Dark Disciples, and paid 1,000
dollars to cut this runaway’s throat, if found. This
murder, so as he of the Negro-American male, pimp,
could show his other sixteen, white, female slaves,
seven, Oriental-looking female slaves, and seven,
white male slaves, what would happen to them if they
made a ‘run for it. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz’s new
black master, never had sex with his slaves, but he
did allow his 3 black-skinned friends--that had
grossly huge penises, to have at his slaves anytime
they felt as having them. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz got
it all the time from the black man, because, she
street corner whore for the black man. Midnight,
northern Chicago neighborhood, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
eyed of that car pull up to the curb of the black
only’ bar that she hooked from, and saw what she
always saw, the black man. She glanced around as some
trained animal and quickly got in the back seat of the
car.
“How much?” This streetwalking, corner whore
heard.
“Pull into the bar’s parking lot. For the both of
you?”
“Yeah.”
“Two hundred’.”
 “Ass?”
“Three hundred’.”
“You got a room?”
“In the bar, upstairs. You can’t miss the stairs.
Room three. Let’s have a drink, first. I know the
owner. I’ll take the both of you together, if you
want.”
“We’ll pay ya’, once we get in the room.”
“I fuck better on coke.”
“Yeah. We got some’.”
“Disciples?”
“What else.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz; hearing what she still
really loved to do, but loving it of such without a
smile; opened the car door, and said, “I’ll see ya’ at
the bar...”

Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt weak as a new-born

kitten, gone that healthy Illinois State athlete, now,
she streetwalker north side Chicago whore. For the
last ten weeks of her nine months being that of a
whore for her new black master, she had lost nine
pounds off her light, healthy weight of 102 lbs. For
the last ten weeks of her nine months being that of a
streetwalking whore for her new black master, she had
severe bouts of diarrhea and sometimes, she had severe
bouts of fever, and the muscle aches, getting worse.
She had AIDS. She had what Debbie had created and
unleashed to the world through General Binnicher, for
reason. She stood in front of the black only’ bar that
her new black master owned. She, dressed in that of
whorish-looking, high heel shoes; shoes that she could
barely walk in; a tough blue jean skirt draping from
her thin hips, with that of a white cotton tank top T-
shirt and white cotton Levi bra beneath that white
cotton tank top T-shirt. Not even wanting to go to her
poor room to rest, Bonita came storming down the
cement sidewalk with the look of that Negro female
knotted, killing that of a white slave, look. As this
showed in her clenched, black fists. This Negro-
American female, called, Bonita, stood gorilla-face
ugly in being 5’10’’, 220 lbs., and she could throw
two lefts and a right, better than most men could.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz turned right foot to cemented
sidewalk; not wanting to hear the Negro-American,
female barks of this her fat watchdog.
“Bitch, where da’ fuck you think you going!?”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz turned and smiled her
shield’s white smile; at least she brushed her teeth
everyday. Seeing this hulking, black female teenager,
she had that of a sudden surge of unwanted fear, never
knowing when or if Bonita would slap or punch her in
the stomach, for no reason at all. Once within hands
reach, a reach that she hated, Bonita said to her,
“You got money?” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz reached into
the left pocket of her skirt made of tough Levi cotton
and pulled out three, one hundred dollar bills. Once
handing over to that of a pink-white, black palm these
three bills, Miss Patricia Olkeweitz breathed in being
relieved, seeing Bonita quickly counting this money
and stuffing such into the left pocket of her blue
jeans. “Go make some more.”
“I have to use the bathroom.”
“Hurry up.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz, from crayons to perfume,
had been stolen by pure evil. Thus far to her nine
months being that of a streetwalking whore, she had
come to make her new black master, a clear profit of
$67,400. And every single customer that she whored,
were Negro-American males. She had the black man all
the time. She had AIDS. She had what Debbie had
created and unleashed to the world through General
Binnicher, for reason. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz;
dressed in that of whorish-looking high heels, tough
Levi cotton blue jean skirt, and a white cotton tank
top T-shirt, white bra beneath that tank top T-shirt,
gingerly walked down the sidewalk a-ways and entered
the black only’ bar that her new black master owned.
The place said as being noisy, smoke-filled, loud
black music thumping, and packed. She smiled that of a
white smile, seeing five of her new black master’s
white whores separately drinking at the bar, another
whore of her new black master; an Oriental-looking
girl; drinking at a corner table with that of a well-
dressed black guy. She didn’t even notice that there
were no white men here; she only sensed loads of black
men and a couple of freelancing, black whores and
maybe two or three, normal black women. But, this said
not her worry, her worry said as having to use the
bathroom. Soon, she allay in seeing one of two toilet
stalls as being empty. Privately inside the toilet
stall, she wiped the toilet seat with tissue, threw
this tissue into the toilet bowl, turned, lifted her
Levi skirt up, squatted onto the toilet seat and
gushing, brown liquid farted from her sphincter
wrecked anus. She of rolling green acres had black men
all the time. I mean, they’, were literally breeding
without care of their offspring out of Chicago. That
is to say the separation of devout Christian, from not
devout son. That is to say U.S. poverty. Chicago black
boys, actually wanting to whore the white girl that
screamed in pain, from having nine, ten, eleven,
twelve, maybe thirteen inches of Negro penis up inside
them. White slaves, whoring for those black boys that
use to live three to four blocks down the street. It
all started so innocently. That white girl; 12 years
of age; would be talking to that black boy, and
suddenly, use her hands to push him back. Then, they
would act like they were fighting each other. In the
dark, hope of race wondered to that black boy rubbing
her shoulders. And that white girl, 12 years old,
wondered from the talk of her older girlfriends
gossiping about, ‘big black cock. She had AIDS. She
had what Debbie had created and unleashed to the world
through General Binnicher, for reason.
“Oh, my, God,” Miss Patricia Olkeweitz worry
aloud.
“Yeah, it’s going around.” She heard this white
slave say from the next stall over.
“Linda?”
“Yeah.”
“You got it?”
“Naw’. Thank, God.”

Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt better, standing in

front of the black only’ bar, the palm of her left
hand on her thin, right hip, posing as whore, not even
wanting to go to her poor room. A known black man
approached and she of pleasant whore for the black
man, said with that of a white smile, “Hey, Jeffery.”
“I got a hundred’. Let’s have a drink, first.”
“You got some?”
“Yeah, I got a short line’.” He of Negro skin
knew that this twenty-one year-old girl put her skinny
back into it, after she snorted a line of almost pure
cocaine.

Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt better, standing in

front of the black only’ bar, her left hand on her
thin, left hip, posing as whore. A known black man
approached, and she of pleasant whore, said, “Hey,
baby.”
“I got one-fifty’ for dat’ ass. Let’s have a
drink, first.”
“You got some?”
“Yeah, I’ll give you a line’.” He of Negro skin
knew that she put her boy-looking rear into it, after
she snorted a line of almost pure cocaine.
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt terrible. Those
bloody aches were back and she sudden of weakness, not
only that, it felt as she boiling and shivered as she
freezing. She did black guys all the time. She had
AIDS. She had what Debbie had created and unleashed to
the world through General Binnicher, for reason.
“Mommy.” In the dark shadow, she whispered in that
way, severly crossing her arms over her chest, trying
to gain body heat, even though it said 89 degrees
Fahrenheit. Holding her upper body in this manner, she
turned left and gangly walked down the late midnight
sidewalk; those cheap, high heel shoes, making her
walk that way. Relieved that no one was around, she
gingerly walked to the middle of a rather shadowy
alley, neared the red-bricked building to her left,
placed her left hand to the brick wall of this
building, and sat on the alleyway’s tar-paved, dirty
street. Resting her back against the red-bricked wall,
she set the bottom of her whorish-looking, high heel
shoes to the paved street and spread her legs to her
bottom’s found comfort to dirty, hard tar. In this the
dark shadow, a man breathed in walking down this
alley. He of haste knew that he shouldn’t go through
this dark, light shadowed section, but, he said late
in catching the bus, and if he dashed through this
long alley, then two blocks up, he would make the
alternate bus on time. Making quick strides, he heard,
“Hey. You looking for nigger cock?” He looked over to
the right in his fast strides, not seeing the young
woman before hearing of her. What he witnessed in the
dark shadow nearly horrified him. With her legs spread
open, her cheap, high heel shoes planted to hard,
dirty tar, he eyed the start of a corkscrewed, black
hole nearly the size of a quarter, with another
puckered, corkscrewed hole nearly the size of a dime.
Her shadowy, young face, emotionally tired, her
shadow-covered eyes, looking narcotic addicted. He
hastened pace, thinking of Father. And as he thought
about Father, his anger grew just. Finally, his whole
face filled with hot, hard blood, while he forcefully
whispered long, “Fatherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr’. Father. Why?”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz fell uncontrollably to
her right side, her right arm, stretched out before
her in feeling lifeless, her legs curled up to her
belly, her brain trying to heal itself. She did
blacks’ all the time. She had AIDS. She had what
Debbie had created and unleashed to the world through
General Binnicher, for reason, and she of once upon a-
time, lay down to die.
“I hate you.”

She didn’t even notice that white painted, brand-

new, heavy-duty, Chevy van pull up before her--that
van, having headlights turned off. But, she did feel
the gentle, soothing words of a Caucasin female a fast
breath later.
“There now. It’s going to be fine. We are here to
see you well. There now, sister, we are here for you.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz felt her selfhood being
raised to that of a sitting manner, and felt cool,
warm liquid enter her mouth, and almost immediately
from swallowing, she felt energy flow.
 “...Shh. Don’t think of the past, my sister. We
are here for you. Don’t think of the past.”
Miss Patricia Olkeweitz swallowed that cool, warm
liquid one more time, shook her head and focused on
the black silky bangs resting upon the woman’s
intelligent-looking forehead, and yet, this woman had
a skinhead hairstyle. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz focused
on the natural, flesh-white cheeks of this woman’s
strongly-chiseled face. Miss Patricia Olkeweitz
focused on shadowy, eagle-sharp eyes that flashed blue
and keen, she focused on a beautiful woman, she
focused upon natural strength and she saw that bright
loving, white smile. She saw, compassion. She of dying
before Christ’s harvested time, lightly touched that
angelic face with the left index finger of her left
hand, and plead she of former, rolling green acres,
“I. I want to be, like you. Save me. Please. Save me.”

To be continued in that of DEBBIE’S MEETINGS Book One.

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