After that night being pimped out by Sir, I had grudgingly accepted that I was a whore for black cock, a Jack of Spades as the older black guy in the park had known, “a beta white boy who loves to serve black alpha cocks.” I felt ashamed at debasing myself, but also knew that the shame was part of the allure.
I took out the scrap of paper he had given me, the address and info of a tattoo artist who specialized in marking Jacks so they could be more easily identified by black kings. I had waited all week since the gangbang, and now I was standing in the parking lot of a neon-clad tattoo parlor on a Friday night. Discretion and logic would say I should be here on a weekday afternoon, but the slutty part of me knew I might get a little action picking this time.
I summoned my courage and walked up and through the door. The inside was decently lit, the walls covered in various images of tribal art, elaborate cartoons, and drawings of shapely women, among other stuff. I looked around on overload, the images and sounds all new to me. I could smell a mix of menthol and weed, and I heard the hum of an electric tattoo needle working behind a curtain.
“Can I help you?”
I turned to see a handsome young black man, arms covered in swirls of blue ink, staring at me from behind a low glass counter. His question had been aggressive; he glared at me menacingly. Nearby several other black men sat in chairs, also staring, clearly suspicious of a clean-cut white guy standing in this place, their place.
“Yes, I hope so.” I held out the paper scrap. “This place was suggested to me as a good place to get a… particular kind of tattoo.”
The worker briefly cracked a smile, but wanted more information. “And what tattoo would that be, cracker? You want your girl’s name on your arm? We don’t do that shit.”
“No sir. I want a jack-of-spades tattoo.” There, I had said it, and shown him respect as well.
He smiled again, and chuckled. “Well alright then, you’ve come to the right place. Where do you want it? Jacks usually get it on their arm somewhere, or on their ass. Depends on how much ‘announcing’ you want to do.” Another chuckle.
I had actually thought about this question a fair amount over the last week. I wanted to show my willingness to serve, but I needed it to stay discreet enough to avoid questions in the office.
“Seems to me I could use two, sir. One on my forearm, visible sometimes but hidden by my sleeve when working. And one on my ass, so that kings looking at it know they have an open invitation.” These locations I had pointed to while talking to him. “Does that sound right?”
“Oh yeah, that sounds just fine to me.” I heard a deep voice say from behind me. I turned to see a stocky tattooed black man, 30ish, eyeballing me like a slab of meat. I had not heard the curtain being pulled back, and the tattoo artist and other client -- a skinny black teenager by his looks – listening to my needs.
“That is fine indeed, mmmhmm. Come on over here to this booth. We’ll get you marked up while you can start paying for it, keep you distracted.” He moved to a curtained area near the back of the store, in the corner. I followed, as did the rest of the clientele.
He opened a metal locker off to the side. “OK, strip, put yo’ stuff in here, then on you knees on the pad there.” He gestured to a pad in the middle of the booth, semi-enclosed by various equipment trays. I could have questioned why I needed to be naked, but I was smart enough to know the path I was on tonight. I quickly pushed off my shoes and shed the T-shirt and sweat pants that were my main clothes. I had gone commando, so I was ready and on my knees in a flash.
“White boy is eager, init he, lol.” The stocky man chuckled. One of the other customers replied, “Damn straight he is. Just like he should be. World’ll be a better place when all the white boys stop running everything and assume their proper place, serving their black masters.”
“yeah, yeah. Can the BNWO crap. I don’t need you speechifying in my shop. Whitey not gonna ever give up power, they just happy to suck our cocks on the downlow.”
The owner moved some trays around, then rolled up on his stool. He lifted my arm up and laid it flat on a linear stand he had, then strapped it down with some velcro loops. “Just so you don’t flinch and mess up the art. Now while I’m marking you, you’re in good hands, don’t worry bout it. You just concentrate on those black dicks they sticking in your mouth, you got that?”
I licked my lips in anticipation, staring at the customers hungrily. “Yes Sir. Whose first?”
“Darnell, you go first. It’s your lucky day. Got your first tat, now time for your first BJ from a white boy!” The boisterous older customer slapped the young teenager on the back, pushing him forward towards me.
“Don’t have to twist my arm old man. I been hearing all y’all talk about crackers serving us, Now I really believe you!” He strode forward, planted himself in front of me, and shoved his basketball shorts down to his shoes in one quick move. “What you think about this pole cracker?” He lightly slapped my face with his dark rod, thin like him, probably 7 inches already and still semi-soft.
“I think.. yum!” I replied and swallowed over half of it quickly. I hadn’t tasted any black cock for a week, and the lust had me going like a vacuum cleaner, up and down that hardening pole.
“Daamn, cracker really goin’ for it!” Darnell practically squealed, clearly enjoying the experience.
I willed myself to slow down a bit, both to savor the cock and to make sure the other men in the shop got a good show, and would therefore want equal servicing. But Darnell was eager, very eager, and grabbed my head while shouting “Take this dick bitch. Swallow this load!” and shot down my throat. I didn’t spill a bit, sucking out the last drop as he pulled out and hoisted his shorts. “Damn you all was truthing for sure. I needed that release.” He whistled as he headed to the front door. “Later bros. I got to get to work.” I heard the door chime with his exit, while another of the customers parked himself in front of me and fed me his cock.
After the few customers had given me protein, I felt the Velcro being released from my arm. I looked over to see my forearm wrapped in clear cling wrap, taped at the edges. Underneath was a black spade, about an inch long, with an empty J in the middle. “That’s just to protect it for a few days, til it heals up. Little thing like that, should be good to go by Monday.”
He rolled around to my ass. “Now I got to get my payment, before I ink you back here. Can’t fuck you afterwards.” He rubbed my ass with his meaty hand, then pushed my head to the floor with his other one. “Nice ass you got here. You sure you can handle my pole?” As he spoke he lowered his sweatpants, revealing a thick, meaty shaft probably nine inches or so.
“Yes sir, it’s not my first time.” I chuckled. I glanced over at the young guy behind the counter who had first greeted me. “I hope your employee gets to enjoy my ‘payment’ as well?”
“LOL. You definitely will need me to open you up a bit before Shayne can fuck you. He’s likely got the biggest black dick in the state. Ain’t many who can handle him, so if you let him in, be prepared for a pounding.”
I glanced again towards the counter and Shayne, who had a slight grin, but also a feral look in his eyes. I knew I would have to see the promised pole, no matter the pain. I licked my lips and spoke with determination in my voice. “I’m here to serve BBC, the bigger the better.”
“Alrighty, you been warned. Now shut up, face down, and let me at that ass.” I quickly assumed my proper position on the floor pad, face against the floor, ass up, my hands spreading my cheeks, and my rosebud winking an invitation. Fuck, what a slut I had become!
The tattoo artist wasted no time, he had lubed up his shaft and while I was getting in position, and in a flash he was pushing into my bussy with his thick cock. I took a hit of poppers, another trick I had learned in my education as a BBC cumdump. The buzz washed over me, easing the muscles and allowing him to penetrate further. “Damn that hole is tight!”
I chuckled “not really, you’re just beer-can thick!” I took another hit of poppers and tried to will my hole open up more. He pulled out a bit, applied more lube, and pushed back in with a determined thrust. I finally felt his pubes brush my ass, my hole stretched as much as the time last week the two boys had DPed me. I was joyously full, grunting in pleasure, as he worked himself to a nice steady pace. In and out, in and out, with the occasional wiggle or change in rhythm to keep things interesting. He knew how to fuck a white slut for sure. He had me alternating between panting, squealing, and creaming. “Fuck… meee!” was all I could say.
He obliged with force, plowing my ass for about five minutes or heaven. “Yeah, take this black seed, bitch! You earning those tattoos tonight.” I felt his cock spasming inside, painting my insides with his manhood. Spent, he collapsed on my back. “Damn, that was fine white-boy pussy. Gonna havta rest a few before I can complete your ink.”
He pulled out, leaving me empty and sad. I looked up for the first time in several minutes, looking for Shayne. Instead I was startled; all around the shop I saw a variety of black men of various ages. Then the crown of kings parted, allowing Shayne to pass through, clad only in a loose pair of boxer shorts. I saw the blue swirls of his arm tats extended across his chest and down his sides, making him look like a fierce warrior-god to me. “Word got around the neighborhood that some white boi was gonna take my anaconda. Everyone came to see the show, LOL.”
With that he stepped out of his boxers, revealing a stiff swinging pole bigger than anything I had ever seen, even in porn. I gulped and stared, slightly in fear, mesmerized by the swinging tree between his legs.
“On your back slut. You about to be impaled.” I quickly flipped over and took a long hit of poppers. Could I actually take all that black dick? I was determined to show I could.
I flung my legs back, exposing my freshly fucked hole. Two men in the crowd around us grabbed my feet and held me in the folded position, ready to go. Shayne dropped to his knees, lubed up the telephone pole between his legs, and slid inside me easily, going about half his length before encountering any resistance. He pushed forward inch by inch, staring in my eyes the whole time. I grimaced at the pain but maintained our eye contact, willing him to take me completely, damn the consequences. I could feel my hole stretching, his cock hitting places never before touched by previous black dicks. It was exhilarating, staring at this black stud exerting his sexual will on me, forcing me open, a fuck-toy for his pleasure. His shaft continued its journey, until I felt his heavy balls resting on my ass, his member fully inside. Impaled for sure.
“Fuck, that pussy is good. Been so long since I bottomed out in anyone.” He grabbed my ankles and took control of my body, shooing the other men back to give him full control. “Get ready bitch, you’re about to take a pounding!” I heard the crowd around us whistle, laugh, or otherwise encourage Shayne to fuck me senseless, and he was up for it! He slid out about halfway, then slammed back into me again and again. And again!
I whimpered but took the pounding like the jack of spades I was. All my previous shame and hesitation broke away under the onslaught of this ebony beast fucking me. I finally accepted my role, to please black men anyway I could.
The rhythm of his fucking changed slightly as he folded me over more, my feet at my ears, his whole body pressing into me. Our chests touched and I felt his rapid breathing on my face, inches from mine. He leaned close and whispered “This what you wanted, I can tell. Your pussy is grabbing at me like a drowning man for a life-jacket. Let it out, tell me you’re my bitch.”
“Oh god, fuck me sir! I need that BBC deep inside me!” He pulled back up from my face and commenced the hardest fucking I’d ever experienced, pummeling me with his cock.
“Yes, yes! Fuck me!” I writhed in ecstasy.
“That’s right cracker, take this big black dick! I’m gonna fill you with black babies. Beg for em, cracker. Beg for me to breed your cunt!”
“Please sir, breed me deep! I want your seed inside me. Please please please…”
“Damn straight, since you asked so nicely…” he bellowed, a feral mating call, then I felt his body tense up as he exploded a firehose of cum inside me. Six, maybe seven pulses flooded me. It was amazing.
I felt some splashes on my face and opened my eyes to see several of the crowd had dropped trow to enjoy the show provided, and they were now cumming on my face! “Open wide bitch” one of them commanded, and I got my mouth open just in time to receive a big load of cum shot directly into my mouth, followed by a second by a young crowd-member who pushed his way into my throat quickly. I rushed to swallow all the load I could, knowing that black jism should never be wasted. A third guy took the hint, and used his still hard cock to collect the cum from my face and push/carry it to my mouth, which I greedily consumed. He cleaned my whole face like that then fucked my mouth for a few strokes before adding his cum to the mix. I had definitely picked a good night to get tattooed.
“Alright, funs over. I still got to ink this cracker’s ass and it’s getting late. Scram everyone.” I saw the crowd redress and disburse back into the night, while I lay there catching my breath. I looked up at the smiling owner. “you earned your tats tonight, that’s for sure. Now hop up on that bench and let me mark you proper.”
I stood up and knelt on the indicated bench, placing my ass at the right height for my next tattoo. I felt him wipe the area with something, probably antiseptic, and commence to sketching out my larger jack tattoo. I lay my head to the side and actually fell asleep a bit while he proceeded to ink me. I awoke to the application of cream and wrapping plastic on my freshly-inked cheek. “Ok, that one needs a little more time to heal up. I’m sending you home with care instructions. Follow them and you’ll be ok by next weekend. Any issues, call me, numbers in the instructions. I put it high on your hip cheek, so it shouldn’t cause any problem with normal sitting, but use a cushion if you need to.”
“Thank you. For everything.” I got dressed carefully, and proceeded to leave the parlor. At the front, Shayne was back at the counter, fully dressed, a happy glow about him. “I hope you and the neighborhood enjoyed our session as much as I did. I’m definitely up for another round some time in the future when you need that snake drained.”
He grinned broadly, “For sure that. You the first white boy that could take all of me I’ve met in years. We absolutely gonna fuck again.” I grinned and walked outside, now officially marked as a jack of spades.
