Loser

He could barely bring himself to lift his head. Shame burned in his chest. He had been the university champ. Strong. Powerful. Respected. Now what?

Mark lifted his eyes to see the triumphant gleam in his girlfriends eyes. Just a year ago she had been so grateful that Mark had agreed to take her out for a date she had put out immediately for him. The cheerleader who would have done anything for her boyfriend.

Things had changed quite a lot since the BNWO began to spread its influence and pass the new laws that changed the balance of power - and everything else.

Candace proudly showed off, strutting her firm, beautiful, sexy form for the watching eyes of the gathered Black men who cheered and hollered for her, hurling demeaning insults at Mark now and then as they laughed at his defeat.

As part of the “White Aggression Act”, all white male students were required to take a weekly dose of medication that had initially been said to have the purpose of ‘calming the inherent racist aggression’ of young white men. Most people knew straight away that it was far more than that. And as Mark had felt his muscles whither and fade, watched as his skin became softer, silkier, and as he balls seemed to shrink daily…he knew it was the medication they had forced on him and his white brothers. Lately he had noticed a growing sensitivity in his chest, his nipples sore, and his pecs growing…rounder.

He had tried to keep fit, running, and working out at the gym on the ‘white boi approved’ apparatus…but…it didn’t seem to help. His butt had rounded out, but that had done nothing to secure his strength.

Candace was being manhandled by multiple strong Black hands by now, and she was giggling and mewling as if drunk on the attention. Mark refused to look at first, until the match referee’s strong hand gripped his face and forced his eyes up. “Hey…you know the rules, if you lose, you have to watch.”

Mark felt his eyes glistening. What..the …fuck…this wasn’t the first time recently when he had found his emotions overwhelming him. As he watched Candace almost vanish into a group of strong, tall, powerful Black men…he couldn’t help but stare at their thick, girthy, veiny lined cocks. Most of them were hard, but still growing…easily surpassing his own shrivelled length at its best, not that he could remember the last time he got hard. Oh wait…he had briefly gotten stiff a week ago when Candace had tried out pegging him for the first time, pounding away at his sissy spot had gotten him hard before he had spewed his pathetic load onto Candace’s bed. She had been so mad about that. Making him lick it up before throat fucking him with her slick, Black, strap-on.

But now, he was stood there…limp, pale, and useless as Candace began to worship countless Big Black Cocks. Her hands full. Her lips stretched. Her eyes wide and glazed in hungry desire.

Mark felt the tears flowing down his face, the referee saw them and groaned in delight. “Fuck I love seeing you white sissy bois cry…”