Subject: Forever Vacation (part 4) gay/interracial, authoritarian, sf-fantasy **** CHAMPIONS OF EVENPORT **** Meanwhile… My life had been a garbage dump for a long time and my last hope of getting into the country of my dreams had been dashed. But a year ago, Evenport County had become a testing ground for the W.H.I.T.E. program. It hadn’t been a majority white place in a while but ethnic tension had often made it seem otherwise. For now, entering the program was voluntary (with exceptions). But who didn’t want Work, Habilitation, Integration, Training and Enhancement when life had gotten so expensive? At least, that had been my public reason for volunteering. Maybe jerking off every night to `brutal man on chaste whiteboy’ porn had helped push me over. I still liked girls, mind you, but girls didn’t like failing whiteboys much. It was a somewhat cloudy day in our little district of Brightwater and I walked my defined physique to the beach stark naked safe for my pink sneakers. There was an F above my Tri. I had been named Fuckbait by Master Malik whose purple ear tag I wore. The name had been my suggestion. I’d always struggled with how easily my glutes outgrew my other muscles — half my fitness journey had been trying to make the rest of my body catch up to the ass — but now that my hole was my only sex organ I had become proud of this stand out feature. The rest wasn’t much to talk about. Brown hair in a buzz cut, dark blue eyes, currently a `Horny Chauvinist’ for all the world to see, with an urge for denying inferiority, verbal harassment, and public masturbation via anal toy. Don’t get me wrong. I would *never* deny my inferiority — I had chosen this life – but Evenport’s more experimental system was especially fine-tuned, more sensitive to any thoughts about things like deserving pussy. And the chicks out and about wore little more than pearls and sandals, their tiny c-string thongs bright spots of color hugging the outlines of their genitals. Why the fine-tuning? Neuts had figured out how to manipulate and deceive the system, using words and actions to mask their racist thoughts, so the system had decided to let thoughts speak a little louder. I remembered my training and directed my emotions toward gratitude, emptying my mind. My `attitude’ trended down, motivating me to continue my walking meditation. The Brightwater convention center rose as an elongated, off-white dome before the beach, wide openings on all sites secured by the shimmer of holo-grids. The blue flags of the upcoming PhotonSlide exhibition already fluttered by the entrance. A duo of monkeys waited next to Damu, a tall man with deep onyx skin and a curly mohawk dyed blue. A holo-lanyard in azure lay above the contour of his pecs and traps, the PhotonSlide logo drifting along the hovering strip. He wore a string thong of the same color that nearly vanished between his highly sculpted legs. I stepped up to Damu who wasn’t looking up from his wrist. My Tri gleamed and my collar similarly indicated my wish to speak. As I was here for a job I was allowed to make introduction. “Sir, Supervisor Damu, sir, this is slave `F’ reporting for duty, sir. As per Master Malik Adams this slave may be used for any purpose, sir.” Master Damu, the convention supervisor, slapped my crotch to `speech mode’ absentmindedly, still looking at his tables and lists. “Wait for the infrastructure planner.” “Sir, yes, sir.” He glanced up from his wrist and walked into the building, his beautiful ass bouncing. I aided the tiny glow of joy from superior attention by focusing on my own sense of gratitude. The monkeys next to me also had been allowed to speak, as I could tell by the collars. I recognized `B’. A thirty something who’d moved here the moment the program had come to Evenport. He was lean, artificially bald and short. He was a `Sex Crazed Inferior’ craving anal penetration, public sex with male superiors and white supremacist verbal harassment (feeling owed attention)’. “Hey, Bitchboy,” I said. “Is Master Feng coming?” Bitchboy nodded. “We finally found an apartment. No more living with Master Feng’s parents.” “Wow, took a bit, but I’m happy for you and your owner. Is he going to show?” “He has a few things to finalize but he might. His cock is mine, though.” Bitchboy’s playful possessiveness trended him up to `Bigot’ since he was putting himself on equal footing with a real man. He didn’t care. “And who’s this white whore?” I asked. The other monkey was buff and tall, with a young face wearing a grim expression. A `Horny Bigot’, feeling the urge for public urination, disrespecting the program and property destruction. “Sucker,” he simply said. Bitchboy gave him a slap on the ass. “Sucker was a high school senior but missed class too often. They checked on his mental state-” “Didn’t know it was that easy to fail the racism test,” Sucker said, looking at nothing in particular. “So he was assigned a hundred days of service, starting last month.” “Assholes didn’t have to make me a neut like you faggots,” Sucker said. He could call us slurs freely, but criticizing our superiors was an obvious act of white supremacy. I focused on gratitude toward the system to avoid becoming contaminated by his racist deeds. Sucker noticed he was trending up fast. “Shit.” He pulled up a picture of a huge black dick on his wrist and mumbled. “I love sucking black cock. I love sucking bl- fuck, too late.” He dropped to his knees and took on a comical expression of a silent, suppressed cry. His few barely noticeable spasms told me he’d Blog İçerik Tabanlı Sosyal Ağı Sitesi accepted his punishment. “He’s straight,” Bitchboy said, poking his knee into Sucker’s contorting face, “but by this point he’s learned to appreciate anal. Don’t think the dumbfuck monkey whore has gotten enough Os for a single orgasm yet.” “Os are still a thing?” I asked. “For involuntary slaves, yes,” Bitchboy explained. “They’ll probably stop once the program is rolled out for good.” “Haven’t met many guys who got themselves sentenced to the program.” “Yeah,” Bitchboy said with a chuckle. “Cause no one gets checked for being a racist unless there’s a reason.” “That’ll change if the trial turns out well,” I said. There were no plans yet to make the program mandatory, but giving whiteboys a hundred days once they were old enough, just to make them test it, was gaining popularity. Sucker’s S-display mercifully reset to `Inferior’ after thirty seconds. He got up, rubbing his nipples, letting his arousal trend up, eyes closed, mouth half open. “Going for seconds?” I asked but got no answer. Many neuts had an ambivalent relationship with arousal. Slaves, including myself, sometimes maxed out to reset the value and be more presentable. Almost like masturbating to clear one’s head. Sucker was becoming rapey. I looked into the convention center where Master Damu stood with his back to us, overhead lights drawing pink and blue shadows on the lines of his lickable muscles and bounced along the globes of his ass. I imagined hard to sink between his legs, giving myself the `Anal Whore’ status as I rubbed my nipples. Bitchboy did the same with a hand past his Tri slipped into his crack, probably fingering himself. The three of us went down at the same time and accepted punishments. I got my second Admonishment of the day, my insides radiating pain for just a brief moment, pushing through me a rush of rage and hate and joy and aliveness. Bitchboy spread his arms. “Thank you for the thrill, oh superior men of this world. My ass is yours.” A bit dramatic, in my opinion. I thought of Master Malik and felt quietly grateful. A short Asian man with a fluffy fringe and a charming smile walked out of the convention center. He wore an azure holo-lanyard over a crop tank top and a black jockstrap, matching his flip flops. He was followed by a whiteman `L’ with a puppy tail who carried a box for him. “Are you the work slaves?” “Yes, sir,” we responded. “I’m Bolin, whitemen infrastructure planner. The network should be set up now. Walk in and out a few times.” As we walked past, he slapped each of our crotches, turning off our speaking permission. Bitchboy entered and got registered, his S-display expanding. His favorite piece of media lately was `Hunk pec worship by WhiteBoySlayer’. I vowed to check it out later. I looked back at Sucker to read his chest. His hundred days of service had grown to 136. If he didn’t change for the better soon, he was going to be stuck as a neut forever. He had several recent violations relating to tardiness, verbal disobedience and ongoing white supremacist thoughts. His favorite entertainment was `these girls want you — immersive holo simulation’. Yeah, he didn’t seem on the right track to get out fast. Master Bolin gestured at his puppy tailed idiot. “Since Lickass likes being plugged, we haven’t tested the hygiene station yet. Try it. Shouldn’t have issues.” The terminal correctly identified me and super slick lube got sprayed evenly onto my arm. Bitchboy and I pressed against each other, half squatting and inserted. It took a bit of pushing, but I got my fist past Bitchboy’s resistance. He had to pump a bit until my hole was relaxed enough again but ultimately donated me some mindnumbing pulses of pleasure. I was about to turn to our new friend to offer my hand but saw he had lubed up, ass out. Sucker dove into his ass from the back, his hand not forming a pointed shape but a punching-fist, going in and out of his hole. He must have spent every free minute riding the biggest toys. Bitchboy and I took turns diving in farther, halfway swallowing each other’s forearms, alternating several times to give the station a good test run. Sucker, the idiot, had to self-fist with some brutality to make it count, since he couldn’t get in as far as was ideal. We flash-disinfected and followed Master Bolin. He gave us each a Reprimand, to check if there was any network interference presumably. Sucker clutched his crotch as he got pain ravaged between the legs and up the guts. Bitchboy looked like he was moaning — silenced by the collar — with fingers on his nipples. I let the punishment move through me with appreciation for my role and purpose in the new order. Being useful to Master Bolin gave me a fuzzy feeling that made me wish I could give him a hug or blowjob right now. Seeing his ass framed by the black jockstrap reminded me of my own hole and how I might get Master Bolin to take me — take the Fuckbait. But that was racist. I looked around instead, at the info posters. Much better whitemanship. We arrived at a display where Master Damu directed a man to put up `Soar’ lightkites on stands. The flashiest model, a red and yellow Soar labeled Swallowtail 3.1, slowly rotated on a round platform. “Damu?” Master Bolin asked. “These slaves are ready. Break?” Master Damu glanced at his wrist and turned off the holo-lanyard. “The stars are half an hour away. Best time is now. Ashraf, break.” Master Ashraf was a tawny convention technician in work boots Sesli Kitap Dinle and a thick tool belt. The man with a lot of fluffy locks with white tips had silver studs in his nipples, matching one on his eyebrow. He turned off his lanyard, too, and dropped the tool belt to reveal a pink thong. “Any preference?” Master Duma asked. Master Bolin shrugged. “Not Lickass. He’s too stupid to suck cock.” Lickass’s Tri and collar lit up with the wish to speak. His attitude was going up. He went to the ground with an Admonishment. Deserved. Bitchboy tried to strike a sexy, submissive pose. Master Duma rolled his eyes at him and sent a Reprimand. Deserved and probably wanted. Everybody except Lickass moved to the stalls at the side of the space, near the toilets. Master Duma behind me grabbed my crotch from below, giving a good enough squeeze to let me feel it in the balls trapped under my Tri. “Your name, monkey?” “Sir, this slave is called Fuckbait by its owner, sir.” Master Duma let go, revoking my permission to speak, and slapped my ass. “Fits you.” We crammed into the biggest stall, which was meant for couples and their whitemen, not for a whole six guys. There was a bench with minor padding but Master Duma folded it up. Bitchboy and I caressed our superiors as they hung their clothes up, while Sucker stood in the corner dumbly. I got to please Master Duma’s cock as it hardened, the man’s large hand on my buzzed hair guiding me along the shaft in his tempo. Bitchboy got skullfucked the way he liked it — his bald head forcing Master Bolin to grab onto the whiteman’s jaw, and the neck, to properly hump. Sucker had refused oral, which was within his rights and didn’t raise his attitude, although it was already `Bigot’, and he was already bending over for Master Ashraf’s cock. It made Sucker’s name quite ironic — and it made me dislike him even more. Finally, Master Duma slapped my face to make me turn, lubed up and shoved his tool inside my hungry ass. I got to watch Master Ashraf’s physique unload his energy into the lip-biting Sucker who clearly struggled despite being a champion fist-taker. Master Bolin was fucking my friend but Bitchboy was giving more of a standing lapdance. I was squeezed between my fellow whitemen, able to see the superiors’ dick slipping in and out of their pale asses in a show of generosity. I received a Reminder mid-fuck. I’d been ignoring owner’s message. I confirmed reading it on my wrist and spoke — I was allowed to since it related to my owner. “Master Duma, sir, my owner is set to arri-” Master Duma pressed his hand on my mouth. “Shut up. We’re done in a minute.” He hammered my ass harder. Whimpers made it through my vocal redactor’s choke hold. In the end, I got pumped full of seed and jumped straight to `Sex Crazed’ the moment Master Duma pulled out. I was wax in his arms as my pleasure center got triggered by the system, in addition to the natural joy of sex. Somehow Sucker managed to become `Rapey’ right after sex with an African male god. Straight monkeys continued to have the dumbest fuck-ups. After feeling the glory of cock, who could still think about fucking pussy? Not like Sucker was ever going to, if we were realistic. To his credit, he had trended down to `Inferior’. He did know his place by instinct after all. We emerged just in time to see a few volunteers trickle in, getting their lanyards from Master Bolin at the entrance. Among them was my owner. I had seen Master Malik just yesterday, but his presence was enough to excite me. I shot up to `Anal Whore’ arousal, willing to sit on dicks all day. Master Malik was slightly taller than me, skin of an even deep brown, full lips. He was bald but wore a Brightwater Beach snapback, giving away his lightkite hobby. He had a leather strap around his chest, holding a small leather backpack. It matched his black thong, heavy boots and leather wrist bands. There were silver spikes on all his clothes and more silver in the studs on his right helix and the horseshoe piercing in his septum. I waddled over, my ass still pulsing with a pleasurable aftermath. I dropped to my knees, legs apart, and looked straight ahead. My owner presented his boot so I leaned down to kiss it, then raced my lips up his calves and thighs, before resuming my waiting position. He had brought Master Feng along, Bitchboy’s owner. Master Feng wore a blue jockstrap and a white crop jacket, open over his gold-ringed nipples. A raging tiger face tattoo sat on his chest. Subsequently Bitchboy dropped next to me. My owner kicked me in the glowing crotch. “Fuckbait, say hi to everyone. Good boy.” His voice and compliment gave me a rush of joy down my spine. Obeying my owner was a goldmine of automatic pleasure. “Sir, yes, sir.” I nuzzled my face into his leather thong and gave it a harsh kiss. “This monkey is happy to see its owner, sir.” Then I moved onto Master Feng who just put his sandal-clad foot out. I kissed it. “Master Feng, sir, I’m so happy to hear about your new apartment, sir. This slave hopes you’ll enjoy the freedom.” I thought I was done but Master Malik had brought someone else along. My ex. “Oh, hi Master Ghazaar, sir, long time no see.” The charcoal-skinned man with a huge tower of dreadlocks pressed my head into his purple jockstrap. “Heya Fuckbait. I missed your ass in the big city. Really wanted to come back when I heard the whole of Evenport is doing the program now, but, you know, busy with uni and shit.” “Just glad to see you again, sir,” I said, feeling almost sleepy with shivers as the Exxen system subtly rewarded me for making my superiors enjoy themselves. “Sir, now, huh?” Master Ghazaar said. “Going to take a while getting used to that.” “Hardly,” Master Malik said. “Fuckbait is a natural slave. It’s like he was born to be a neut.” I took a deep breath, nuzzled into the pink jockstrap that hung obscenely low, filled with a bigger bulge than I remembered. Maybe he’d gotten some enhancement. A Reminder let me know I was going up the attitude ranks. I had been imagining Master Ghazaar as my owner, which was disloyal to Master Malik. My urge to commit betrayal of my superior was written on my chest and back. I prevented a further rise by accepting my pending punishment for the earlier anal whoring. My final Auto-Admonishment of the day wrecked my brain enough to reset my thoughts. I was Master Malik’s property, as my ear tag made obvious, and I was grateful. “So,” Master Ghazaar said and let his eyes wander. “Where’s the scaffolding Bolin wanted us to put up?” “I think we’re still waiting,” Master Feng said, playing with his nipples. “Not every volunteer is checked in and we get to meet the stars first.” “In that case,” Master Ghazaar said. “Malik? Is this the right time?” “Knock yourself out,” my owner said. “I’ll grab a different one.” “F-Fuckbait,” Master Ghazarr stuttered. “Shit, I almost called you by your pre-slave name. That’s pretty much the only way I could get in trouble with the program, huh? Hehe.” “You don’t have to ask him,” Master Malik said. “Fuckbait, sex with your ex, now.” “Sir, I live to serve, sir. Your cock is my duty, sir.” I moved back into the cabin I had just been fucked in and got fed Master Ghazaar’s cock. I drank his piss while other men squeezed into the stall. Master Feng had donated his slave to my owner — Bitchboy knew what Master Malik liked almost as well as I did — and grabbed Sucker for himself. The straight guy was on mute and quickly presented his ass to avoid having to suck cock. He was `Racist’ before Master Feng’s dick even entered him. The Asian man liked to roll his body, letting his abs and thighs flex in waves as he drove into the slave ass like the tides. Master Malik was a fast hammering top, making Bitchboy cry-squeal for joy as his pale body vibrated under the assault. Meanwhile, Master Ghazaar pressed me against the wall by the neck with his large hand and shoved his tool in. A slap on the `F’ between my legs muted me. He fucked like he always had, going in and out the entire length of his shaft with every stroke. My arousal was suspended during sex, but my attitude was not. Wanting Master Ghazaar as my owner was a desire out of sync with my duties to my actual owner. I was `Racist’ in no time. The moment Master Ghazaar let me drop – his jizz dripping from my quivering hole – I accepted today’s first Castigation. The waves of pain around and within me made me forget everything else. There was only one way to make it through this without going mad — total acceptance. And deep breaths when I could get them. I emerged last from the stalls. My friends had already gone back to the entrance where the stars of tomorrow’s opening show were being welcomed by Master Duma. Two members of the Western Whiptails had been brought in by PhotonSlide to endorse the latest boards. Both wore sparkling silver jockstraps and matching armbands on their biceps, the Whiptail logo unmissable. Even with his dark brown back to me, I recognized Kyle, or I guess *Master* Kyle. His v-shape looked even more insanely wide in person. No wonder he could glide for hours from wave to wave, he seemed to overflow with power in every motion. His mohawk was shaved to an arrow on both ends and dyed silver. The other guy had to be Dylan. A brunet fringe, a balanced physique, blue eyes. A whiteman but not with the program — at least not yet. If W.H.I.T.E. kept expanding he’d get the chance eventually. It wasn’t like he’d have to stop kiting. Hell, even I hopped on a board sometimes. It was just weird seeing a whiteman with a bulge, even if it wasn’t as massive as Master Kyle’s. When I joined the group around them, the star duo just received emerald holo-lanyards. Master Kyle glanced at me and gave me a winning smile. My knees weakened. I must have worn the dopiest grin. Master Malik nodded at me. “That’s my neut, Fuckbait. So Kyle, with the-” Kyle waved him off. “Please, I go by my middle name now. Panjang.” “Oh, did you announce that yet?” “I only do that in places that are with the program already.” “Makes sense, so Panjang, when the first Swallowtail model came out you said it’s lacking in shudder control, but now that you’re not competing in such a high vibration category anymore-” Master Kyl- I mean Master Panjang gestured me to turn around. A bit shocked at the attention, I gave him a slow, shy twirl, feeling myself blush. Why was I feeling so giddy? This went beyond the subtle reward granted by superior attention. I was star struck. “Hm, I can see why you’d call it Fuckbait,” Master Panjang said. “But yes, as you guessed I’m getting sponsored by Photonslide now that their boards fit my needs better. Dylan is the technical details guy, if you’re keen. Mind if I borrow your slave?” “I’d be honored,” Master Malik said with a chuckle. Beyond ecstatic I waddled after the lightkite superstar. Bitchboy gave me a jealous look, but I flashed him a middle finger. He could suck Dylan for all I cared — not that slaves were actually allowed sex with whitemen outside the program. Master Panjang shoved me into a booth and I went to my knees. His massive dick entered my mouth while it still hardened. My ass was flexing in anticipation. He pissed a hard stream at the back of my throat, leaving me to struggle with breathing and swallowing. Gratitude spread through me.