Squealin' Snitch Bitch free porn video

No reason needed for a bitch to get fucked in Colefax. [s]he probably deserved it anyway, either because of "her" crime on the outside (stupidity in getting caught, arrested, charged, convicted, and sentenced), because some bitch on the outs had it in for "her" and revenge-dialed the cops. Or, because [s]he fucked up and pissed Somebody off in here. Or, [s]he just got punked and turned out anyway because [s]he either sent out the vibes that [s]he liked it. Or [s]he looked pretty and passable enough to Somebody in here. Or, the Bastards just got Their daily hardon and woke up first thing, like every morning, too fucking horny to even try and consider any discriminatory inhibitions about just sticking Their dicks into the first conveniently available white mouth, or other hole. In here, it's just like any other crime, robbery, white collar corpo crime, blue collar street crime, rape, sexual assault, or any other black on white sex crime, or it's just fucking. Either way, it doesn't really matter in here anyway. These Bastards will give you candy (like candy) in here, and sweets, just to cajole and sweet talk you out of your panties. And you can forget about the bullshit reality show "code" about not "accepting any gifts..." from other inmates, (because everybody already s'pposed to know that you don't take anything from anybody "because it shows weakness that you can be had" without being take, if that makes any sense). Even if you don't "accept gifts," or small favors, it, even as less graciously as you should, then it's just a matter of time before They'll just take you down and rape you anyway - for no reason other than just because They want to, from sheer boredom with nothing else to do. Fuck reading year old mags and dog eared, frayed paperback with the last three pages torn out (when They'd rather be fucking something else). Screw watching Jerry Springer and Blind Date re-runs (when They'd rather do some real screwing anyway). Perhaps They're just extra horny on a particular day. If that's not it, then various and particular times of the day are always a factor (since male sexual desire peaks at certain times of the day anyway). Waking up first thing in the morning with mostly sexual thoughts, leftover remnants from REM stage dreams, mixed in with forgotten memories of past sexual experiences (recent, way back when, or just what They're thinking about for the future at Their next opportunity). Nostalgic regrets and mentally kicking Their own ass when They're thinking back to long gone opportunities in Their distant past when They had the chance for a particular sexual experience, but backed off, or somehow screwed it up, or failed to follow through somehow. Pile on fragmented and disconnected fantasies that just float into the frontal lobe of first morning daily consciousness, and even lazy thoughts that always starts with sex, and combine all of those together and you've already inadvertently designed and constructed a petri dish almost tailor-made for the study of incarcerated male sexuality in a restrictively controlled environment (giving new meaning to the mere suggestion of clinical trials, control groups, blind studies, age and sex parameters, KAPPA coefficient double- blinded "inter-observer" studies, random sample numbers along with targeted selections, balanced participation with inclusion and exclusion criteria, study groups and reference groups, validation requirements, psychological placebo factors, manipulation, etc.). Throw into the cyclone the typical male bravado and macho rhetoric about jerking off, "I don't have to jerk off..." They're almost always lying - if you go by the observational evidence of inordinate lengths of time spent in the showers (it ain't always about being so fucking fastidiously clean). If they had such lofty personal hygiene standards in the first place, then where were those general standards when they got popped and collared for prison anyway? "Yeah? Guess we gotz lots of "clean criminals" in jail... yeah, I hear they rolled up on your ass at the Crossroads Motel and broke down the fuckin' door with all that ice [meth] just laid out in the middle of the queen sized... and the only reason they cuffed you is because they caught you in the shower with soap in your eyes... and your gat [gun] was layin' on the gotdam sink... git the fuck outta here with that... talkin' 'bout how you 'always about the clean'... and you alwayz gonna be thankin' 'bout how you got took down every time you take a shower anyway and we all gonna be laughin' anyway ev'ry time you wander off to the showers after that story..." Or, just the peripheral observation of particular Inmates with Their somewhat meandering trips with reading materials tucked under their arm (wrapped in yesterday's newspaper) along with extended stays in the stalls taking a crap [federal prison, since jails generally don't have private stalls]. Besides, how long does it take to crap anyway? Either you have to go, or not, and who has the time to read the entire editorial and sports sections of a newspaper to go along with something that should only take a minute or two? If it was just for "something to read," then the rare paperback might be more compact and portable anyway. So, either sixty to eighty percent of these assholes are constipated from just eating their own commissary on top of the regular chow, or they're in there jerking off, with great fanfare coming out of the stall, businesslike, and with such intent, as though they've now suddenly got someplace to be and something else to do, striding so purposefully on the reverse trip back to their cell with a demeanor and gait decidedly and much different than the innocent and exaggeratedly casual strolls in making the initial journey in the first place. On top of that (if you can believe rather transparent liars who still insist, "I ain't got to do that [jerk off]... I got a wife [girlfriend, booty call] waitin' for me on the outs [outside] anyway"... If they can be believed then that only adds to the inevitable volcanic eruptions, and if those eruptions (so to speak) don't occur with some form of sexual release, then it spews out (again, so to speak) in other ways, with the typical antisocial tension, nonsensical arguments, decidedly antagonizing and rude humor, open challenges leading to light scuffles and skirmishes, or outright physical violence that sometimes, and inevitably leads to premeditated (underlying motivation in the first place) or incidental opportunistic sexual assault (what the hell... might as well). Repressed mental urges unilaterally apply to everyone in their self- denial of the taboo (especially when they're under the rather close scrutiny of someone or others that they keep at a distance or outside the privacy fence). Suppress and deprive yourself of something long enough and it always comes out in some other area anyway. Some frugal savers impulse buy and indiscriminately shop between one and three in the morning rom QVC, late night cable infomercials, web surfing, etc., and then just keep the stuff hidden away in the closet or garage. Lots of preacher-boys, self-affirmed ministers ("Jimmy Swaggart" types, priests, and publically proclaimed devout church mouse types are eventually discovered by some isolated observation of just one of their frequent furtive entrances and exits from dirty bookstores, trolling the hooker district, or doing extra volunteer work with the community youth (even though they're still safe, until they're caught, and only because they supposedly "never act" on their desires). Cloistered and recreationally oppressed Catholic church priests have no outlet for anything sexual except towards whatever's immediately available to them (kids and altar boys, or the safer internet porn), and they can't be caught going into a dirty bookstore or video rental "boutique." There's also a fundamental difference between just simple ("asshole- ish") compulsion and true addiction (both start with a mental and conscious choice while the latter ends with a physiological dependency). Mostly just simple bad behavior begins with a conscious choice ("I know it's not the thing to do, but I'm going to do it anyway"). That's why there's no such thing a "sex addict" or "porn addict" (assholes who only self-admitted as such, but only immediately after being found out ("I've got a disease..." - r-i-g-h-t). This is also why you have so many lawyers, doctors, nurses, CEO's, and other "braniacs" on drugs, because despite their assumed intelligence (after all, they're doctors and lawyers, aren't they?), they gravitate to physiological dependent substances anyway, not because of (their not as of yet) chemical dependency, but because of their own unresolved, unexamined and unaddressed psychological factors that motivated them in the first place ("I know that I'm way smarter than this, my degree proves it, but I just want to... and I'm smart enough to figure a way out before it goes too far..."). Compulsives are those addicted to porn (either the traditional skin mags or today's electronic age contemporary internet porn). In trying to "kick the porn addiction," they'll invariably throw out all their porn, delete all their internet search histories and browser bookmarks, scrub all the GIF's and JPEG's (pictures) from their hard drives, throw away the DVD's, erase the links to AVI and uTorrent videos, YouTube downloads, cancel their paid site (and free trial) subscriptions, even permanently (and shift-delete) their FictionMania folder (they really mean it this time), and "turn over a new leaf," if for no other reason than a practical one (rather than any desire to "straighten out"), "God forbid, if I get in a car wreck and my wife finds this stuff..." All of that only works for a while (a couple to a few weeks, perhaps a month or more), and then surreptitiously (even if they live alone), they'll gradually start revisiting those same sources for a quick glance (purely for nostalgic review, of course), and then slowly start "reacquiring," and accumulating again, the same jerkoff materials (the tried and true digital history in whatever worked before anyway), albeit over a longer period of time than it took them to gather those material in the first place. And, there are those compulsives who like to live more dangerously (with actual physical encounters), trolling for hookers through Craigs List (or supposedly those who aren't hookers, but simply "desperate housewives" seeking lunchtime hookups with the same transparent, tired and sad refrain, "because her man at home just ain't got it no more"). They'll stop for a while and suddenly start asking their wives (of all people) to meet them for lunch more than occasionally, two or three times a week (even if they know she doesn't that much leisure time. After all, in his mind (but only if the end comes after he's found out), it was her responsibility to help keep Him being a "good boy" in lieu of his compulsion. Soon enough, though, she no longer has the time for such [now] frivolous lunchtime outings. After all, and more practically, it's killing the budget, the already scheduled and advance calendared time with the garden club seminars, HOA meetings, not to mention teatime with the sorority girls). And the kids, don't forget the kids, "I don't just have to pick them up in three hours, it's all the other things I need to do before I pick up the kids from school. Raincheck?" So, in the end, the self-justifying asshole compulsive will blame the wife, "I... I tried... but you never had the time..." Then he'll make himself feel better by "confessing" his misbehavior (and most of the time, after she's already known for quite some time anyway - and then being further clueless and making it even worse for both himself and her by saying, "All those other women, they didn't mean anything..."). In the end, he "feels better," with a cleansed soul (after all, he magnanimously "confessed," and to her, didn't he?). She ends up feeling like hell, but it's her fault, because she's taking too long to reconcile herself with it, to "just get over it" and move on and start over, and she's certainly taking too long to forgive him. In his compulsive mind, he gets a "do-over." And, them if she'd only just forgive him and forget about it, and start giving him sex again (that, too, is usually one of the most common, accusatory, and lame self- defenses he offers up as one of his self-righteous "reasons" for fucking around in the first place), "We just haven't been having sex very much since [insert milestone - the baby, new job, etc.] (when the reasons he hasn't been getting anything from her in the bedroom is because of his overall asshole behavior in other areas of domestic bliss that had nothing to do with the milestones). After all, compulsives like this can't be just fucking around and also being doing everything else exactly right, "There were signs, you know? There always are... and I've known for months... doesn't matter who the other bitch is... if it's not her, then it's somebody else... [or] it's much worse than that, you did it with a guy, that's fundamental, and I'm through, you can't fix this... The rampant priest problem has gone on for centuries (still no solution in sight beyond the current simple exposure of the problem). You can't fix serial rapists, or cold and dispassionate, detached murderers (not the manslaughter or crime-of-passion kind). You can't fix pedophiles, either. All of these people (including the priests), are already psychologically hardwired. With the exception of priests (if a solution is on the horizon), the only way you can "fix" the rest of these garbage people is not by so-called therapy, counseling (even offending priests aren't "cured" through counseling), or "rehabilitation," but by locking them away for life (solitary confinement), capital punishment, or just plain good ole boy "mum's the word" street justice and "Dexter-type" retribution). Chemical castration has not, will not and will never work (because they're already psychologically hardwired - the driving force behind all subsequent aberrant compulsions for the rest of their lives anyway). After all, rape really has little to nothing to do with actual sex (it's just an incidental byproduct of the deviant psychology that drove them to rape in the first place). So, what does any of this have to do with prison anyway (you boring, long-winded, circuitous reasoning, self-rationalizing, protracted writing literary "don't-know-how-to-be-anyway")? The short answer (comparatively speaking) is that this is how social, individual and criminal aberrations begin. Prison is only different in the sense that they throw people (rightfully sentenced) into a predetermined and particularly fashioned environment designed for one purpose while also creating another environment (within the same parameters) that can only foster the inevitable (hence, the petri dish analogy). The result is that the various and assorted physiological factors (stacked on all of the above) is what finally send people over the brink. Society generally understands why drug addicts, cigarette smokers, and alcoholics need to find their next fix, cigarette, or drink, and it's because they've already surpassed the textbook psychological explanations as to why they started down that road in the first place, and have now become both chemically and physiologically dependent on their substance of choice. Cigarette addicts try to kick it by throwing out all their smokes only to pick up a pack on the way home from work a week later ("just one smoke - or two - before I turn in tonight"). Alcoholics dump all the liquor down the sink, or toilet, and swear off (but not so committed as to actually even inquire by telephone about signing up for any twelve-stepper AA meetings). Nobody ever dumps their weed, though (because they're not chemically dependent on that). And, the only time anyone ever flushes their pills is when they change their minds and really decide to cancel out the rather permanent game ender (not game "changer") in the form of suicide (and, not because they were chemically dependent). After all, you can always get more of the same pills anyway (if you change your mind gain and decide to go the other way after all). You never see people flushing their crystal or smack down the toilet, either (unless the SWAT team's battering ramming the front and back doors). In prison, alcohol ("pruno"), though common, is a luxury compared to the comparatively more prolific availability of drugs, all kinds and nearly every kind. It's easier to get strung out on drugs and stay that way than it is to maintain an alcohol addiction in jail and prison (which makes current proposed legislation to ban tobacco from all federal facilities rather ironic). However, throw in the most powerful physiological factor, testosterone to stoke up male sexual desire, and now you have an primordial maelstrom of a volcanic eruption (with quaking tremors before the volcano, and plenty of subsequent, residual and overlapping aftershocks for whatever's bound to happen anyway to either a lesser or greater degree). It's always been a widespread and perpetuated urban myth regarding the use of salt peter (potassium nitrate) in prison food, claiming that it used to be added to the food in all male institutions, including the U.S. Army, military academies, (even kids in boarding schools and summer camps) as a way to curb libido and keep their minds on things other than sex. It's false, however, since salt peter not only does not have this effect, but also can have a number of ill side effects if taken in excess, such as poisoning, reproductive damage, and cancer. However, the belief in the legend is almost as effective (the psychological placebo effect). Inmates believe it, and a few (albeit a minority number, and only those who can afford it) will actually go so far as to eat only commissary that they can buy (prepackaged, sealed, shrink wrapped, etc.) in the reasonable belief that commercial food products aren't tampered with. The ones who belief the myth (but can't afford such amounts of daily commissary) will jerk off to both confirm that everything still works and to make damn sure that it stays that way ("use it or lose it" theory). Keeping up the bravado dirty talk makes some of them think that if they still talk dirty with the same crude language and vulgarity then they must still have it (since you can't really talk dirty without a sex drive). Get sent to solitary for a rule infraction and most Inmates will be less inhibited about using that "single" time to jerk off (even with a camera in the top left corner of the cell - they'll just do it more discreetly while pretending to be asleep). No cameras, and they'll jerk off five and six times a day to catch up on lost time (besides the boredom with having no privileges, either, no books, magazines, writing implements, paper, radio, etc.). For everyone else in the general population ("gen pop") testosterone starts feeding the beast first thing with early morning wakeup, after a good night's sleep and just waking up with an fucking unsolicited hardon from residual nocturnal erections, and even nocturnal emissions despite being way out of Their twenties by decades anyway (or just confirmation erections, period, "Yeah, everything still works... what a waste, though... wish I had something to do with it..." [or] "another jerkoff after second count..."). Hardly anybody ever jerks off in their bunks (unless it's a single man cell or unless it's "court day" - arraignment, trial, sentencing - for their cellies) because there's no privacy otherwise. Although all it takes is just a few minutes anyway, if they decide to skip a meal and they know their cellies are going to be in the chow hall anyway (it takes at least fifteen minutes just to walk there and back). Or, if their cellies are down with their family on visiting days, a meeting with their lawyer, a recurring continuing education (CE) class, a job assignment in the kitchen (3:00 or 4:00 every morning), all of these seemingly insignificant and smalltime events provide a window of opportunity to relieve some stress. Yard time is the best time, though (although it's so obvious to everybody else if you stay behind - everybody's supposed to take whatever yard they can get - whenever they can get it, "yeah, yew gonna be back here slappin' dat monkey ag'in"...) Just after lunch is another time of the day when things slow down enough to idly dwell on lazy sexual thoughts (again, fostered by boredom and nothing else to do anyway). Shower time (mid-morning after breakfast and early afternoon just after lunch is less crowded) is another relatively down time period when the showers are less crowded the point where you can almost have some private time (if everyone else is out in the yard). Plus, being able to take everything off only during those times of the day and walk around without being observed by too many eyes (nobody likes to have too many square inches of skin exposed, unless it's just the typical macho shirtless and boxer shorts look). The feel of all that open air swirling around your private parts, just being uninhibitedly nude, even if just for the briefest period of time is enough to further the mental stimulation (although no jerking off in open showers since anybody else taking advantage of the same time periods and for the same reasons can still walk in). Now, with the rather dry monologue and hypersomnia inducing diatribe out of the way, we can get on with the good stuff (perhaps only slightly better than having to wade through all the ellipses, I'll bet). In any event, forget that silly ass rule about "not taking anything" from Anybody (ostensibly just to keep yourself safe by not looking weak). Once you get to Colefax, or most other places for that matter, you really don't have any choice when They put Their eyes on you. Hell, in this place, baby, fucking is just that, fucking, and that's all it is. Nobody in here in gives a damn when They All rip some pussy and face off of you. In here, it's not like taking down women on the outs, and in here, Nobody cares because whatever it is, and Whoever it is, it's just Guys on guys anyway. Screw all that "TG" rhetoric anyway. Being TG, crossdresser, TV, identity or gender dysmorphic, "bi-curious," "temporarily" "down wid the Homies" (or whatever other "P.C." term you want to call it) might help Everybody out while they're dragging down whore road (even helping the bitches to reconcile themselves with their horrible fate). But, it's still just Dudes on bitches anyway - Dudes (Inmates, Booty Bandits, Cons, and Whoever) doing the fucking, and bitches being the poor white little weaklings getting fucked. But, all that "politically correct," new age, California touchie-feelie, kumbaya mumbo jumbo ain't got no place in here (except for ridicule, and condescending mock concern for those unlucky bitches already so helplessly caught up in the game), "Hey, how ya doin' baby? How's dem burf control pills goin' down? Dey make yo' clit smaller? Kin yew still get hard end cum? Ahh see yo' nipples all swolled up, but when doze titties gonna start poppin'? Yo' Pimp awreddy done said dat yew s'posed tuh bee sportin' sum bitch titties by now. Iffen yew gonna bee actin' like uhh bitch, den yew gots tuh bee lookin' like one too. So mebbe yew shood be axin' yo' Pimp tuh double up duh dose own yo' white ass end hurry it own up, cawse Ahh needz Mee sum titties tuh squeeze while Ah bee fuckin' hug white ass, e'en if it jest bee uhh cute liddle boi bitch like yew..." Anyway, being TG, or whatever, isn't completely necessary, at least, for basic purposes. Yeah, just like that gangbanger said in "Training Day" (Denzel Washington), "It's like that, Homey, it's just like that..." Fucking, either willing, or not, and even outright down and dirty rape in Colefax is nothing more significant or meaningful to Them (and soon enough in furthering your own non-streetwise white education) than simply a different way of jerking off. It begs the question about guys, who wouldn't rape on the outside, but still take advantage of an opportunity in this place with relaxed moral restrictions, would still be considered "nice guys" except for being in this place ("I would never have raped anybody anywhere if I weren't in this situation..."). There's a school of thought that most men would rape someone if, number one, they could, and number two, if they thought they could get away with it (supposedly, it's built into their DNA), and the ones who absolutely insist that they [absolutely] wouldn't are only those weak metrosexual pseudo-feminine weirdos that you see on "The Chew," you know, ones who's self-admittedly married with kids yet pretends to be gay, another who's openly gay and pretends to be macho "butch" straight, and the other ponytail wearing ginger (who's actually straight, but puts on an over the top flaming act to try to suggest that he's gay - the giveaway though, is that gay people contest that premise in their own expression that no fashion sensible gay person would be caught dead in those fucking orange crocs he wears). Anyway, back to snitchin'. Even if a Guard strolls in on His fucking rounds and catches you naked on your pretty hands and knees and getting your face and head blown out by some black Man's dick, He's just going to haul you both off and throw you in the hole for having consensual sex (against the rules anyway). You can't squeal on the Inmate because you already instinctively know what happens to snitch bitches anyway. and, you've heard horror stories about how a Guard will throw an especially appealing white bitch in the hole for no reason, and then come into her solo cell three and four times a day and fuck her face off, emptying His balls with nasty, sloppy, and nonconsensual, wet blowjobs that He could never get in an eternity from His own wife at home. So, for now, and for your immediate and distant future, you're going to get fucked, and hard, for several days, and weeks, until you're either fucked to death, or killed outright (although a tragic waste of pussy). Or, you'll acquiesce, give in, and submit to Them All, by just letting yourself get fucked every day, turning the other cheek, literally, turning your head, and your face, mouth, and ass towards the next waiting black cock already impatiently slapping against your countenance. Either way, you're going to be giving up something to These Men, either your pussy and mouth, or your life, or both, since before your lips have even brushed across the leaking hard head of your first black cock, you've already been branded as a cocksucker to thugs anyway. It all started for you last night just after your shower. You were in your cell, totally and completely naked, sprinkling baby powder all over yourself to help cool you down better in the oppressive summertime heat. You still had three more hours before last count and lights out, and you never saw the loosely loitering group of Booty Bandits just hanging out just outside your cell, smoking, joking, and the constant chatter about "bitches." And then before you could even bend over and pick up your towel that slipped while you were sprinkling baby powder across your ass, They all bum rushed into your cell, these Bastards, were now unidentifiable and anonymous, ludicrous and almost comical in Their rather bizarre appearance, albeit very real and unfunny "stranger danger," and wearing just KKK style pillowcases over their heads with only the eye holes cut out. They had an extra pillowcase for you, too, as the girl interrupted, white bitch with the central leading role, to join in on Their perverted reverse black on white KKK party. Except your pillowcase had just a single hole torn in it, in the middle, and much larger so that your mouth could accommodate the sheer size of Their tools, so They could hold your head in Their hands and use your face. You found out later, after it was over, the next morning, that it was your own pillowcase that They had used. They had taken it while you were still in the shower. The ridiculousness of it all, was that even though you were helplessly and almost completely sightless in that dark and creepy world of playing touchie-feelie "blind bitch bluff" with your playmates, you were still able to see Them All anyway by just barely peeking up underneath the top portion of the hole in the pillowcase. Even then, the singular and most macabre, disjointed and incoherent thoughts floating through your frazzled brain (if They didn't actually kill you first) was that after it was over, then you could possibly identify them if you simply requested the Administration and interested "Investigators" to conduct a "strip search" of the offending parties, and the offer up helpful evidence by describing what you could see, Their genitals or other body markings, by describing your perverted forensic observations in excruciating and minute detail beforehand, first in voice, "It... it took hours, I think... They... They made me do everything. As soon as it started, One of Them grabbed my wrists and pulled both of my hands up between His legs, and made me play with His balls, bouncing His testicles gently, on the ends of my fingertips, and squeezing His sack while I sucked Him... One of Them had a large mole on His leg... another One has a deformed penis that bends way to the left when it's hard... and I remember another dick that had an unusually twisted vein running underneath from His balls all the way to the tip... and... and another had so much pubic hair that it was a huge triangle that ran clear up past His bellybutton"... stupidly thinking to yourself that if you gave Them these types of detailed descriptions, then They'd believe you, and arrest the culprits, and charge Them all with sex crimes, as you continue on with your still mentally contrived, rehearsing your internal dialogue in advance preparation of your soon to be and now doubtful future, with your own carefully deliberated, and voluntary verbal and written statements to helpful Authorities. "I... I don't know how long my ordeal lasted... I... I just know that it was just after dinner, and right after my shower. So, you can get a timeline for any charges that way... I so know... that it lasted for least for the rest of the night after dinner and shower [rather than the proverbial white gurl "dinner and a movie" dating scenario)] and just before last count... I... I was still on my hands and knees, naked, after countless sexual assaults in my mouth, and all over my face. There must have been ten or twelve of Them... I... I'm sorry... I... I lost count... but when the Next Inmate, somewhere in the middle, stepped in front of me and saw all the cum glistening and shining and dripping and soaking though the pillowcase, and I'm guessing, splattered all over my lips inside the hole over my mouth. I... I begged Him, and I pleaded with Him, 'Please, please, You... You have to help me...'" and... and He looked down at me., and I could tell He wasn't listening, because He took His dick out of His zipper, and I... I could see it through the sperm drenched and jism soaked mouth hole of my pillowcase. It... it was already so hard. Yes, that's the ticket. Maybe you can use that part in Your report, His hard dick, to legally substantiate that He had premeditation and intent. Yes, I... I can help you with that later, after this. I... I know something about legal requirements for probable cause, reasonable suspicion, search and seizure, indictments, felony charges, and arraignments. But, He simply mocked me, and He said (in a very condescending voice, and ridiculing tone, showing mock concern), 'Sho,' baby... Ah'm gonna he'p yew out... by hep'in' yew pay awf sum mo' uhh yo' muthafucki' white debt... tew duh bruthas... yew kin cal it... Nigguh slave rep'rations' and I... I should have keyed in on the word, 'baby' as soon as He said it, and I already knew that He had no intention of helping me, especially when He was already showing me His hardened dick. Please... You... You have to believe me... He... He tricked me, but, I... I really had no choice, even when He told me, 'Yew dun sucked Evuh-bodee Else frum what Ahh hear, and Ahh needs Mah dick sucked too. But iffen yew do uhh good job, den Ah'll see what Ahh kin dew tuh keep duh whole cellblock frum tappin' dat white ass...' And that's what motivated me, and spurred me on, to do a good job, sucking Their black dicks, and even pretending that I liked it, and that I was willing to do it. But even though I didn't believe Him, because His dick was already so rock hard before He even started speaking to me, His was the still only blowjob that I actually performed willingly. So, perhaps my apparent consent might negate a rape charge against Him, even though I was in fear for my life, and coerced into doing it. Anyway, after He was done, shooting off and spurting His load into my mouth, I... I mean (I didn't mean to sound so rude, in using such crude and vulgar terms), after He was done ejaculating all of His sperm between my lips, the rest of Them came in anyway, and I sucked off about six more before I realized that he wasn't going to help me at all... They All said, 'Shut up 'n suck it, white bitch,' and... and then Some of Them came back for seconds, and thirds. I know, because I was peeking, and I recognized a certain repetition in some of Their features and characteristics, tattoos, the size and shape of some of the heads and foreskins, peeld back, skinned and unskinned, the pattern and bushiness of some of Their pubic hair. So, I'm quite sure that I could identify some of Them for you in an investigation and prison lineup if you make Them All strip, at least, from the waist down. Anyway, towards the end, I... I mean close to the end, and even after I had already given up my whole month's worth of commissary to my Cellmate, the irony was that One of Them told me, while He was holding onto my pillowcase, fucking my mouth, and shooting His load... I... I mean, His sperm into my mouth, He was telling me, ?Ahh done paid yo? black Pimp awl uhh Mah gotdam commissary fo? duh rest uhh duh month tuh git tuh yo? mouf?. Now, suck own it, bitch, ?n make it worf? Mah muthafuckin? time...? and it was so humiliating, getting passed around for just candy bars, cokes, cigarettes, and cheap tobacco that They hadn?t even gotten yet?... Now that it?s finally over, you still haven?t squealed, and you don?t know why, or what?s stopped you besides your abject fear of the still unknown despite what They?ve already done to you. Besides, They?ve all been watching you, and since last night, you haven?t even had a single moment to yourself, alone, even when you went to pee There?s always someone just casually standing nearby. And now you?re still wondering if They might ever leave you alone sometime today, albeit naked and afraid, at least for a little while, just for a fleeting moment, so that you can try and get some help. And, They?re all hanging around, too, just to see what you?ll do, if you?ll suddenly scream out, long and hard, for some helpful assistance from the Guards before a dirty black hand claps over your mouth and nose to silence you. Or, perhaps you?ll just run up to Another Man, Another bigger, and even stronger Inmate, Another bigger and even darker skinned Nigger for desperate, and much needed protection. They?re All waiting to see for Themselves if you?ll squeal, and tattle, and try to tell on Them, in describing your predicament and naked plight to Someone Else who?s even more than slightly curious, and extremely interested in the excruciating details, with pretended and condescending, mock concern for your plight, along with all the unintentionally tantalizing and, unintended on your part, teasingly descriptive and sordid, lurid details that you might provide. ?Look, please look at what They did to me... there... there were several, several of Them... all Black... and... and They All mouth raped me... long and hard.... One right after the Other... over and over... again and again... for the rest of the night... until lights out... and They... They filled me up... with Their horrible sperm... I... I still have plenty of DNA evidence... inside me... in my stomach if... if You want to check... uhhh... check my story... to make sure... and see for Yourselves... if I?m telling the truth?... I... I could throw up for you... I?m so sick... from all the sperm... that I could probably do it... I... I know I spit up quite a bit of saliva... into Their pubic hair... while I was sucking Them... and especially when Their dicks were touching the back of my throat... every time one of Their dicks... started shoving my tonsils out of the way so they could slide down my throat?... But for right now, after what They All did to you last night, after your shower, They?re All still looking at you, watching you, staring you down out of morbid curiosity to figure out for Themselves before They can get Their black hands on you again, and speculating about just what you might do. But, you?re still numb, and emotionally shattered at the very thought and memory of what They?ve done to you already, and you still don?t know what to do now, because you were raised not to snitch on people and to try and handle your own fucking problems. And, as much as you want to, you finally reject the idea of snitching, even if it is your only option. Besides, since you?re already looking at two to three more years in prison anyway for your stupid behavior, if you snitch now, then Anyone in here, Everyone, actually, could very easily kill you anyway, and take Their time about it after They?ve already grown tired of you and used you up as a sex slave. Besides that, you?re from another state, and you don?t know Anyone in this fucking place, and you?re so terrified, and filled with shame, embarrassment, humiliation, and fear, that your options are so limited, and you feel paralyzed, and helpless, and utterly alone. You have no one, no one to talk to, and no one to help you, as you look around to try and just mentally prepare yourself for the next cock, the next black cock, and the one after that. But the Inmates can?t wait to take Their multiple turns with you again, next time in your still as of yet untouched cunt. They can?t wait for your Pimp to tap your pussy first, and opening you up for ?bidness? before rolling your white ass out to gen pop as fair game. They All want to rape you first before you ever get your chance to go tattling and squealing. They All want to rape you first and then see, too, if instead of Another Inmate, if you?ll run up to a prison Staffer and offer to go someplace private, take off all your clothes in front of Someone Else, and show Them, Complete Strangers, the deep bruises on your arms and legs where such crude Niggers held you down for rape, to see if you?ll show Them the red splotches from the hand prints and pinches all over your buttocks and inner thighs, and the backs of your legs where They slapped you and took Their many turns feeling you up. They want to see if you?ll beg Someone Else to look at the rather apparent finger marks around your neck where They choked you out into naked submission while They all continued to rape you violently, quickly, efficiently and systematically, taking turn after turn, and still taking Their time, leisurely fucking you, and listening intently to the dick hardening, prick stiffening sounds of poor little you lying beneath Them, underneath Each one of Them, looking up at Them, and whimpering in pain, embarrassment, and humiliation. And then before it?s over, further degrading you to no end, forcing you to pretend to be Their white girlfriend, and actually kiss Them back, All of Them, on the lips, and placing one of your hands on the back of their necks, and your other hand on top, or underneath the crease of Their black ass cheeks and keeping your hands where they are, just like that, gasping up into Their mouths, and breathing your cock smelling breath right up into their ugly faces as you moan out, loudly, your newfound, and your quickly found, heartfelt gratitude and thanks for Each and Every One, thanking Them All for Their thick Nigger dicks, like a lover, a white lover, until each of Them is finally done and climbs off of you to make room for the next One. You would tell the prison Staff that you were raped over a dozen times, the next Pair of Booty bandits simply waiting for Their next turns, giving All of Them plenty of time to recover from Their most recent orgasm and refill Their dirty black balls for the next rape anyway, and in the end, by the time it?s finally over, They?ll All have you two, and three times Each. You may never get the chance to tell, because now it?s too late anyway. You?ve been busy all morning, sucking your Cellmate?s dick. He?s now not only your Cellmate, but your your Benefactor, Overseer, Owner, and black Pimp, and you?re quickly learning that no matter how many times you suck Him off, He?s literally insatiable, with a perpetually hard dick that won?t ever go down, and always seems to stay half hard. Even while His dick is still soft and flaccid, it?s so large that you can?t always tell if it?s half hard, or completely soft, or not, even when He?s taking a fucking piss in the stainless steel toilet. Lots of Men in here have already dispelled that white myth anyway about Men not being able to piss with hard dick. These Bastards can still piss with a half hard or almost completely hard dick anyway (morning piss and morning hardons and instantly dovetailing, and soon to be piggybacking on top of you with the results of Their fucking perpetual nocturnal erections). Nobody ever says in here that a Man can?t piss with a fucking hardon, He just can?t cum and piss at the same time, although the piss following your Pimp?s second load followed almost immediately after cumming inside your mouth, making it feel (and taste) to you as though He?s cumming and simultaneously pissing, too anyway. In any event, you?re stuck with Him now, and you?re realizing that His body seems to only serve as a host, and life support system just for His dick. After sucking your Pimp?s black dick, He?s still hard, and without fanfare, or discussion, He?s raping you, quickly, hard, and fast, with His huge balls plastered against the backs of your shriveled cranberries while He shuddered and came, shooting a huge blasting Nigger load of cum into your now turned out little white pussy. Then just as casually and unceremoniously, after He?s finished, He?s rudely shoving you off His bunk, naked, onto the floor as though He?s somehow disgusted with you, even though He?s already taken your white virginity, raped you for your first time, and crudely taken everything He wanted from you for now, and without even a fight. And, you?re more humiliated by that, by just how embarrassingly easy it was for Him more than the actual rape itself. And while you?re still lying on the floor next to His bunk, He?s apparently changing his mind, and seems to want you again after all, getting up from His bunk and dragging you back up to your feet again by a handful of your hair, then viciously Pimp slapping you, several times, back and forth across your upturned and beseeching white face. Even after He?s already cum inside you, He?s still inexplicably beating you anyway, silently, and wordlessly, at first, before He offers you an explanation of sorts, ?muthafuckuh... yew so weak, yew ain?t e?en put up uhh gotdam fight... gonna hafta teach yo? white ass... jest lack awl duh othuh bitches in Mah stable... dat yuew gots duh make it int?restin? tuh yo? customuhs?... and he?s right, instead of putting up a fight, you were just whining like a little bitch even as He was slowly forcing His black cock, painful inch by excruciating inch, and you just lay there underneath His heavy bulk, and squirm and moan, whimpering out pleading little words, trying to be quiet, and careful so that no One Else would overhear, actually trying to help Him, and mostly yourself, to keep your dirty little secret, ?please... please, Sir... don?t do this... I... I?ll give You my commissary... I... I mean, I?ll ask my wife to send in extra money so that You can buy some more,? crying and only weakly struggling the whole time, a helpless bitch?s writhing, token fight against a Man insistent upon His own needs, and in the end, just letting Him fight His way all the way up to the balls inside your screamingly virgin tight, pink little asshole until He was finally laying His full weight on top of you, crushing the breath, and the life right out of you while flicking his tongue inside your right ear, a creepy unnerving sensation, before slopping the flat of His tongue alongside your cheek from chin to hairline, smelling, and tasting the baby powder still remaining on your skin from last night. His dick keeps throbbing and flexing deep inside your asshole for several minutes, while he lays on top of you, basking in the warmth of your pussy, feeling the exquisite sensations of your helpless, involuntarily clenching, and twitching spasms before He finally starts moving again, twisting your head around on your neck to the other side, so that he can taste that side of your face, too, and muttering into your left ear this time, your best ear, the ear from where you can hear His words even better. He?s whispering to you at times, in a low guttural growl, and then raising his voice to a normal volume, and then punctuating certain words and phrases in a louder voice, much louder, and you?re not quite sure in your now shell shocked mind, if your eardrum feels as though it?s about to burst from the volume of his loud voice, or from the humiliation of some of the terrible things He?s saying to you while He?s still pumping His dick into you. ?muthafuckin? sweet ass white pussy... yew?s gonna make Mee lots uhh money... keep Mee in commissary... have yew suckin? ?n beggin? fo? black dick in no time... keep yew own uhh white gurl?s diet uhh nuttin? but Nigguh jizz... buy yew sum bitch close... sum gurls panties... make yew suck e?en mo? black dick so?s yew kin he?p pay fo? yo? own burf control pills... turn yew in tuh Mah bitch... ?n make yew marry Mah black dick... so?s yew kin bee Mah wife... yew gonna he?p Mee pick out uhh purty liddle gurls name fo? yo?self... jest uhh dick jackin? muthafuckuh fool... fo? uhh pussy jackin? Nigguh Pimp?... And now, barely thirty minutes later, you?re just standing here like a fucking bitch fool, still naked, after He?s already put His pants back on. Just the mental and visual image of you being the only white gurl in the room, and in the presence of even a partially clothed Man makes you feel even more vulnerable and completely, even more blatantly exposed than before, being completely naked like this and sharply contrasting with Him. And along with this, you can still feel His cum still trickling out of your bitch hole from your most recent rape, with slug like trails of His semen slowly sliding down between your sticky upper thighs and down the backs of your legs clear to the backs of your knees and one particular stream of cum trailing all the way down to the back of your right ankle. And, in spite of this creepy, lewd sensation, you?re not even aware that you?re just standing here in front of Him, and involuntarily, and unintentionally staring down between His legs, staring at His crotch, staring at that thick log of a dick, the same anaconda black mambo Alabama snake once again crawling down the inside of His pant leg, His dick still in His pants. And you?re looking at His crotch in fear, trepidation, unintentionally, and seemingly mesmerized in your own apparent, whore like fascination, and morbid curiosity. Your lips are parted, again inadvertently, unaware of how you must look to Him, with your mouth hanging open, unintentionally, and you can already see His dick through the material of His pants, so familiarly to you already that you might as well have x-ray vision. And you?re staring, as it starts visibly twitching, again, and thickening, then jerking, and lifting upwards into an as of yet still hidden, solid stalk of black, and soon to be another, and just one more black cock in an ever growing and long line of even more punishing black cocks that He?s so magnanimously and graciously promised you. His dick is growing longer now by the second below His crotch, and you can even imagine to yourself that you can actually see again the familiar shape, and size, and outline of His huge, cum filled testicles as you just stand here, and your delicate white fingers start opening and closing, nervously, and purely from fear, as both of your hands seem to be already helplessly and unconsciously grasping thin air, and naturally curling into the size and shape of overly large imaginary black cocks as you simply wait, listening intently to whatever He?s going to tell you now in how He wants you to take care of His dick needs again. He?s getting up from His bunk again, like before, and before it can even register, just after His vicious slap across your flinching white face, and before you can even fall down, and helplessly sink down to the floor, He?s already reaching down and grabbing you by your left upper arm this time, instead of your hair like the last time, squeezing His fingers hard into that soft meaty portion of your upper arm between your underarm and your elbow, dragging you back up again, and throwing you carelessly across His bunk, your thin white legs sprawling, and helplessly exposing yourself to Him, again. Just three days after your black on white KKK mouth assault, your Pimp has kept you busy, both of you staying completely naked most of the time, keeping you on your knees, crouching between His legs, delicately fingering his balls, reverently sniffing His crotch, and gently, then noisily sucking His black cock, swallowing His cum, even drinking His piss, and then bending over in front of Him, either in His bunk, or yours, or bending over the rickety card table to offer up your white ass to Him, again. He?s raped you repeatedly, and you?re so busy that you haven?t had the time, or a moment to yourself to even write down and then formally file your grievance. Besides, it hardly matters now since you?ve been beaten multiple times by your Pimp, and now your dirty little secret is already out. Your Cellmate has already traded out your mouth lips, tongue, and as of yet, still relatively untrained throat, ?stock futures... ?n commodities...? He calls the deal, as He leans down and rudely laughs in your face at His own joke. But, for now, He?s kept your white ass for Himself, and has now raped you, repeatedly, several, several times and in rapid succession over the past three days after your mouth got turned into a KKK pussy. Your ass cheeks and the insides of your thighs are now bruised from pinch marks placed there by your Pimp, to silently and wordlessly command you to simply roll over onto your belly again, and open your legs again, splaying them widely apart for another fucking, again. The rest of the Inmates are still out in the yard, just after lunch and for the rest of the afternoon for daily rec time. And even as you?re climbing ono His lap, naked, and sickeningly, embarrassingly cooperative, with your legs splayed on the outside of His, as he?s guiding the truncheon like cock between your silky white ass cheeks, your Pimp is now finally laying down the law, telling you that today?s the day. He?s telling you that today?s the day that the rest of the Inmates finally get to have you, ?no holes barred... bitch?... and that from now on, you?re fair game, for E-v-e-r-y-b-o-d-y. And this time, to celebrate this milestone, as the golf ball sized head of His uncircumcised dick squeezes back up inside your asshole again, you can actually feel the foreskin peeling back outside your asshole and slipping behind the head of His dick. This particular fucking is much more personal now, up close, and intimate, because of the way you?re now sitting in His lap, face to face, both hands and wrists draped around the back of His sweaty, thick bull neck, and with every plunge of His dick, you?re gasping right into his face with your dirty, cock smelling breath, and embarrassed to look at Him or make eye contact. He hasn?t said what those rule are yet, except to tell you that you should always be searching out the nearest dick by staring at the dirty crotches of everybody you run into. But, if you can?t see the dick because it?s already inside you, then you haven?t been told where to look. All you know is that you?re not supposed to close your eyes, or even blink too long. But, apparently, He doesn?t seem to mind you breathing and gasping into His face. After all, it?s only His dick you?ve tasted for the past three days anyway, and it?s only been His dick that you?ve been sucking anyway, and His cum that you?ve swallowed after you brushed your teeth, and mouth washed. And now you?re moaning, with false and pretended, fake, mock pleasure, bouncing up and down, and riding His dick like a real trooper, hoping He?ll change His mind and keep you all to Himself and not share you with the Others. You?re literally jumping up and down, and slapping your jiggling white ass cheeks, loudly, and frequently, down on the tops of His naked thighs, and lewdly pleasuring your Pimp?s incredibly long, and throbbing, stiff black dick. You?re trying desperately to hurry it up to make Him cum, and actually help Him shoot His fucking load again, His third this afternoon so far. You?re trying to make Him shoot, before the Others stroll back in from the yard and catch you out. You?re bouncing so high, and riding the full length of His dick, from base to tip, that your tiny little asshole is clasping and helplessly fluttering around and just underneath the so familiar, gnarled head of His uncircumcised penis, that you?re almost standing up, holding onto the back of His neck, and accidentally bumping the backs of your white shoulders and the top of your head against the underside of the presently unoccupied top bunk. You?re bouncing, and writhing, twisting, and gyrating, trying every trick that an imaginary whore might use. But, and in spite of your best efforts, despite your compliance, submission, willingness, and acquiescence, this time, it?s too late, much too late, and just as He orgasms, spurting His thick streamers of Nigger jizz all the way up inside your nasty fuck hole, you?re still gasping, just as you?re glancing back over your left shoulder to see the Others, several Inmates, All black, shirtless, with slabs and slabs, and several feet of dirty, and sweaty black cock meat, already thickening, and lengthening down the insides of the legs of Their basketball shorts and sweatpants. They?re All standing in the doorway of the cell, staring disgustingly and contemptuously down at the sight of your cock stuffed white asshole, with your Pimp?s cum dripping out of your pussy, and lewdly trickling down all over His sweat drenched balls, ?Hey Homey, Wee needz tuh break awf uhh piece uhh dat bitch befo? yew wreck dat white pussy lack yew did duh las? time?... It?s already been three long days after the KKK ordeal, with just you and your Pimp, and now that it?s finally Their turns, the Inmates have already been discussing whether or not you?re going to be a fucking squealer. Scared little white girls always tattle, they can?t help themselves, they always do. So now, as the immense length of your Pimp?s thick anaconda black dick, is slowly sliding out of your gaping ?pussy,? the rest of the Inmates are grabbing you by your left arm this time, and dragging you out of the cell, three doors down (just like the song), and shoving you into the loving arms of Another Man. He?s waiting for you, the first rapist, just standing there, shirtless, and barefoot, with His dick already hanging out of His pants, ?Yeah, dat?s rat, bitch, no shirt, no shoes, but yew gonna service Mah black ass... ?n Mah dick.? As Someone from behind, nameless, and anonymous, slaps you upside the back of your neck, ?git dis white bitch back own huh knees wheah she b?lawngs?... It?s going to be, or at least, start out as another mouth rape session. Except this time, They?re All determined to test your resolve, and your tricky white girl honesty, to see for Themselves if you?re a squealer, and a little tattletale. And then One of Them dashes your hopes that it?s just going to be sucking dick this time. ?In about ten minutes... Wee gonna have awl Are muthafuckin? dicks awl duh way up inside yo? ass... ?n floodin? yo? liddle white pussy wif? plenty uhh quality DNA evidence... jest in case yew won?t tuh squeal own duh bruthas... ?n yew gonna bee squealin? wif? yo? white mouf? wrapped ?round uhh dick... ?n den squealin? sum mo? while yew bee bouncin? up ?n down own anuthuh dick... tradin? yo? ass... back ?n fo?th... So, white bitch, gut tuh snitchin?, ?n tell Us Awl how yew been thankin? ?bout squealin? own duh bruthas. When yew tell duh ?Ministrashun ?bout how yew wuz raped by yo? Pimp, ?n Awl uhh Us, yew?s gonna hafta ansuh awl Their questions. Like, whut color wuz Hiz dick... yeah, end how big wuz it... ?n how many times did dey assault yew... did yew do oral sex... ?n what ?bout pussy... ?o in yo? case, wuz yew anally assaulted??... And you?re hesitating now, thinking better (and in the presence of your betters) of your former and most recent thoughts to turn Them in after all, and now you?re desperately trying to think up a way out of this, by giving Them All the answers that you think They might want to hear, dirty answers, filthy words that only a whore and a slut would use. ?Ahh axed yew uhh muthafuckin? questshun, bitch? as you respond back to him in your very best and clearly spoken, white girl?s softly articulated, and educated, nice girl, culturally refined diction, properly enunciating, and sharply pronouncing your very own teasingly dirty phrases, and whorishly nasty, contrastingly filthy words, ?Sir... I... I really can?t say... who They were...? ?Yew mean... dat dere wuz mo? den one nigguh... dat raped yew??... ?Yes... yes, Sir... They... I... I mean... I couldn?t really identify Them... any of Them... all I can say... is that Those dicks... They were about the size... color... and shape... of almost any other... big black prison cock?... And They?re keeping up the game, going along with your ?story.? ?So yew bee sayin? yew wuz raped... by awl black dicks... end dat yew didn?t see... one white dick in duh bunch??... ?No... no, Sir... I... I don?t think so... I... I can?t be sure... but I... I don?t remember seeing any white dicks... at all?... ?So, yew bee blamin? jest duh bruthas... fo? turnin? yew out? ?yew sayin? it wuz are fawlt yew wuz raped??... as you hastily respond. ?No... no, Sir... I... I mean... it?s... it?s not Your fault... it wasn?t Anybody?s fault... I mean... it must have been my own fault... perhaps it was something I said... or maybe... maybe it was the way I was caught by some of the Inmates... carelessly naked... just after my shower... maybe I teased Them into doing it... raping me... I... I mean making me suck Them like that... I... I didn?t mean to tease Them... so, it was probably my own fault... it... it has to be my own fault... or, if it wasn?t because I was naked, maybe it was something I said... some misplaced... and inadvertent comment... that I might have made... unthinkingly... in passing... or some stupidly unintentional remark... without meaning to... I... I know that the Men.... They sounded really mad at me... and They called me names... a stupid white racist bitch... and they made me call Them names too... I... I had to slip Their dicks out of my mouth... while I was sucking on Them... and call Them names, too... I... I had to call them black dirty raping Niggers... the whole time... while They were taking turns... standing in front of me, and fucking my mouth... throat fucking me... and making me... suck Their dicks... They... They even made me... beg Them for it... They... They spanked me... and slapped my face... really hard... squeezed Their fingers and hands around my neck... choking me... to make me open my mouth more... and make my throat tighter... so They could feel Their dicks inside my neck... and They... They All made me beg for even more black dick to suck?... But, rather than pleasing the Men with your words, your soliloquy has just the opposite effect, and They?re all getting worked up again, even worse than They were yesterday, with a horrible and undefinable primordial mixture of Their own contempt, anger, disgust, amusement, and of course, lust to just empty Their balls again as One of Them now grabs you by the hair again, as you continue your faux civic duty, reaching for His dick hanging down in your face, not even completely hard yet, and crying everything but crocodile tears as you interrupt Their constant, and never ending disconnected and continuous, disjointed, and randomly scattered, rude, and anonymous, disrespectful male chatter. ?Fuckin? nasty liddle hoe... What duh fuck yew gonna do now, whine Me to deaf?? Ahh don?t give uhh good gotdam eithuh way, long ez yew keep whinin? ?n whimperin? wif? yo? thin white lipz wrapped ?round duh root uhh Mah muthafuckin? black dick... now, give Us Awl uhh practice liddle squeal, bitch... den git tuh snitchin? ag?in... end den yew kin start suckin? Us Awl awf, yew weak ass crackuh bitch...? as you sit here, on your knees, naked, and holding onto the shaft of His penis with your right hand, gently squeezing it, light and delicate, graceful squeezing, to make it hard as you continue your pretended, and certainly no longer intended, snitching to the Guards. ?Squeee... squeee... squeee... squeee... squeee... squeee... squeee... squeee... squeee...? ?Yew kin do bettuh den dat... muthafuckuh?... as he reaches down and slaps you hard, across your face, another Pimp worthy, and loud, pistol cracking shot, as you keep repeating yourself, making horribly humiliating and degrading noises for Them, ??n don?t yew let go uhh dat dick in yo? hand neithuh?... as you start squealing again, pitiful, humiliating sounds that degrade you to the point that you?d almost rather, but not quite, just get to the dick sucking so that They?ll leave you alone with all the rest of the stuff. ?skreee... skreee... skreee... skreee... skreee... skreee...? over and over again, repeatedly, keeping it up for three or four minutes while They?re All just crowding around you and laughing at you, openly fondling Themselves and stroking Their dicks, ?Yeah, yew gonna bee squealin? ?round Mah muthafuckin? bawls tew, bitch... now, shut up dat noise end git tuh sitchin? sum mo?... as you gratefully stop squealing, not sure now which is worse anyway, actually, and literally squealing, or just pretending to snitch. ?Please... They... They raped me... All of Them... They All... raped me... long and hard... in my mouth... and shot off... all over my face... over... and over... and over... again... and again... and again... until Their fucking balls... were depleted... and completely empty... They blacked me up... really good, Mister... They fucked me... while I... while I swooned... in and out of consciousness... until finally I... I choked out... and the black cock in my throat... was the only thing holding me up... on my knees... but he kept His dick there anyway... down my throat... even after I was unconscious... and when I woke up... They were all laughing at me... for passing out on Them... like a weak little girl?... And after several more minutes, wasting more time with pitiful begging, and still interspersed with quite a bit more squealing, Everybody, six or seven of Them again, like before, are once again, just casually milling around, watching you dutifully sucking off another naked black Man standing right in front of you, with your bimbo head bobbing back and forth along the thick shaft of His dick, with your loudly sucking mouth sluicing noisily around and around the rather large uncircumcised head. Your lips, nose, a