First, a Black Out

Five Years Ago

"Marcus! Marcus Garvey Williams! Get your black ass in here!" yelled Ms. Trina Williams from her apartment window. The boy, now a young man she supposed, was out again at that creepy white neighbor's house doing some silly science experiment. Why the hell couldn't he be like his sister Millie, a good girl, and be home at dinner time. She didn't care how old he was, Trina was going to whoop his ass when he came home.

"Marcus! Marcus Garvey Williams!" heard Marcus, distantly, as he convulsed on the floor of Dr. Geralds' personal lab. His mouth was foaming and his heart was beating, faster and faster than it should've been. The light was dimming.

"Fuckin' christ!" yelled Dr. Geralds, his catch phrase of sorts. His granddaughter walked in the room and widened her eyes as she noticed the nearly dead man in the room. "What did you give him?"

"It's not that," said the good Doctor, fairly certain that innocent Marcus didn't steal some of his ****. "I think I've seen this before. Quick! Unbuckle his belt!"

Holly Geralds sucked her first black cock as Marcus awoke from his convulsions. Spasms settled his body while they flooded her throat. He began breathing again as she began gagging. She smiled her pearly whites, with something else pearling down, as Marcus realized his pants were around his ankles, and suddenly understood what this meant.

"Fuck," cried Maya as her corvette had broken down in the rundown portion of Mobile. "Shit," she said nervously, as she found herself in the ghettoest part of town. 'This can't get any worse,' she thought, as she pulled up her phone to call daddy.

"Maya?" questioned Marcus, as he stumbled out of Doc Geralds' place. He instantly had an erection at the sight of the hottest girl in school, and wondered how to fix it.

Trina heard the door slammed open. She got up from the kitchen table angrily and turned around to yell at the suspected enterer. "Marcus! Where the fuck have you--"

She spied her son, her firstborn, with a rich white girl around his arm, gleefully pawing at her as they made their way to her bedroom. "Wha--"

"Oh, Mom, sorry," Marcus said, momentarily breaking free from Maya's embrace. "This is Maya Sinclair. Her daddy owns the Bay Bears. The baseball team. She and I are going to fuck!" Marcus was high on life, forgetting any normalcy after his earlier blowjob and the prospect of fully losing his virginity.

"Oh, Hell no!" shouted Trina. "Get your fucking hooker out of my house, Marcus! This isn't like you..." She felt unease, a suspicion that something was further amiss than just teenage **** use and sex.

"Oh, did I not mention I'm a three-hourer? The old Frenchman's disease? Well, it turns out I need to fuck her, or I die!" Marcus laughed as he pushed Maya through the bedroom door onto Trina's bed.

Trina sunk into a nearby chair, silent, introspective, as she watched her son pull Maya's pants down. She witnessed his cock get exposed, and push through, not-so-softly, into the poor girl's unprepared entrance. Her heart sank as she saw the girl's innocence, her son's innocence, ripped away, staining the bedsheets with liquids of various colors.

This was it. This was the day she feared for almost nineteen years. When she, as a twenty-year-old bartender was visited by a mysterious man who fucked his way through an entire night shift. He left her with nothing but the seed that became Marcus, and now she watched as Marcus placed his seed into this young girl. The cycle continues.

Marcus was satisfied with Maya, an oddity for a three-hourer, but Trina knew that wouldn't continue. She offered herself. She offered Millie. But he was not interested. He only wanted white women, it seems. An odd fetish. A betrayal of his race, perhaps, but Trina accepted that being an EDP, as they call them now, comes with unique perspectives. It was the **** factor that worried Trina.

Trina had been a single mother, from the moment an unknown figure knocked her up, and had a steady run of boyfriends and, in lewd terminology, clients. Men who offered her money for a good night out. She never haggled over prices or services. She wanted her son to grow up with a father, but in lieu of that, accepted their patronage to give him what he needed. An education in a private school. Tutors. Extracurricular activities. Everything he needed, she provided, even if it required hours on her back or knees. They lived in the poorest neighborhood in the poorest tenement available, but he was provided for. Her bright son. Her angel.

But Marcus wasn't alone. Two months after his birth, one of her earliest patrons gave Trina a parting gift. An attempt to "take care" of the problem sent Trina to the hospital and Marcus to foster care for a time. Millie Small Williams would be born premature, but otherwise healthy, although everyone knew she had been unwanted and was yet another "immaculate conception".

Marcus's year in the foster care system sent him back a year in school, but he easily excelled over his younger, richer, whiter classmates. Trina could not afford to have both kids in private school, not even with weekly visits from Marcus's headmaster, and Millie settled for the public school system.

The worst part, of course, was Trina's boyfriends. Not her patrons, but the men who stuck around longer, despite knowing what she did, and tried to profit from them. They would beat her, disfigure her in ways to make her less profitable. And they would beat Marcus, her boy angel, and Millie... Millie claimed they did things even more heinous. Things that made her weep at night.

Trina never slept with anyone on that bed. As she stared at the aftermath of another fuck session between Marcus and Maya, a tear rolled down her cheek. Had Millie been fucked on that bed? Trina certainly had. And now Marcus. And all of Marcus's schoolgirls.

Millie Williams came home late after several weeks of Marcus partying with all his new white girlfriends. She was eighteen now, and offered herself willingly to Marcus, but he didn't even pay her attention. She was his kid sister, not another slut to be filled.

The apartment had been expanded to contain this entire floor, and Millie had her own three-bedroom now. When she clapped on the lights, however, she found Marcus, sitting alone in the dark with a glass of milk.

"Marc, I---" Millie paused, her heart racing. "Where's Maya?"

"She's procuring someone for me."

Millie nodded her head. "Did you need me to--"

"No," he dismissed her suggestion, per usual. "Maya took care of it before she left. And she'll be back before I need to again. Plus, it's actually healthy to push it on occasion."

Millie didn't agree with that last statement, but didn't argue with her brother. He could get angry at the drop of a hat these days.

"Tell me about Donnell again."

Donnell was their mother's old boyfriend a couple years back. Millie had told their mother about certain things he had been doing with her. She was aghast, and Donnell was never seen again.

"Do you mean how he **** me?" asked Millie, emphasizing the word.

"Yes. How."

"Well, you're the expert, now, Marc. But I'll specify. Vaginal intercourse. He fucked me in my pussy." Millie was defiant in her explanation, something he had been increasingly curious about, even though she was always sparse on the details.

"All the way."

"Yep. His dick completely inside me." She store daggers at her brother.

"Whelp. Okay, then. I accept." Marcus took off his unseasonal leather jacket, revealing a white tank top underneath with blood stains.

"V-virgins?" asked Millie, scared at where that blood came from.

"Not tonight," he said simply. He peeled down his pants as his large, erect cock popped into view. "Hop on the table. I'm going to fuck you."

Millie gulped as she sat down. She was wearing a skirt as Marcus grabbed the sides of her panties and peeled them off. He licked his fingers and probed her vagina as she bit his lip.

Marcus's brow furrowed. Millie knew why, but didn't say more. His finger still inside her, he started talking again.

"I had a conversation with Donnell this morning. He disagreed with what you've been saying."

"He's lying!" said Millie, unable to get up, as Marcus gently finger-fucked her.

"And Omar, I talked to him last week. And Julius, Maya took care of him. No one agrees with what you've been saying."

"Of course not, they're ****--"

"Shh..." Marcus grabbed her mouth and closed it. "They might be a lot of things. But I can tell you, they don't all have half-inch penis's either. Well Julius might..." Marcus laughed as he pushed his fingers a little further. "What's this I'm feeling, Millie?"

"I don't... it's been a while."

"More like never. This is a hymen. A cherry. And yours won't grow back either." He replaced his finger with the tip of his cock. She was slick, now. Very, very slick. He almost tripped in, as he burst through the lubicrated entrance to the treasure trove inside. He **** himself even further, as she grimaced in pain.

"Doesn't seem like Donnell and Omar and short-dick Julius have been here before," said Marcus, as she began in earnest to fuck his sister.

"No, I..." she was starting to lose concentration from both the pain and pleasure of this event.

"Shhh... darling. I don't need to hear another fucking lie." Marcus pushed forward. His black cock covered in dark red blood as Millie's innocence had been taken from her, both physically and legally. "I thought you were fucking cool. I killed for you, kid. My hands are redder than your cunt right now," he said, as a tear rolled down his cheek for the first time.

He turned the stove on and lit a cigarette. "I don't know what I'm going to do..."

Present:

Marcus awoke in a cold sweat. Amber, the Mousy Girl, was riding him methodically under Maya's supervision.

"You blacked out, sir," said Maya, several minutes later, after he came into Amber again and regained his senses.

"I'll black you out," muttered Marcus under his breath, an EDP-related headache annoying him.

"I've been blacked before," joked Maya as Marcus smiled. He gently kissed her hand and she blushed, despite the hundreds of times they had fucked.

"We can't countenance rapists around here," said Marcus, seriously, as he turned to his fridge and the newspaper article that he kept to keep him in check. "But we have to make sure we catch the right ones." He stood up and felt the yellowing page, the ink crackling.

"No ****, then?" asked Maya, unsure how to get the information otherwise.

"No ****, no ****. No more ****." Marcus gulped as he stared at the headline.

_Apartment Complex in Mobile, Alabama Burned Down By Pyromaniac EDP, _12 Dead.