They didn’t mind him listening to the music. They didn’t mind him going to the concert. They didn’t mind, as much, that he was dressed like he was from the hood. But all the black people weren’t too shocked when Nate screamed out the n-word when singing along to the hit song. And you could definitely tell it was him, the twink having a distinct voice. Weirdly not nasally, but unique enough that he could be heard from across the warehouse. On the opposite side was a gang of three black men.
Nate would probably call them thugs, but they were actually hired by the singer to show racists some pain. They wouldn’t beat him up, but Nate would be in for the time of his life. Throughout the show, the three of them noticed a few other white people using the n-word, but Nate used it the most, by far, even after people kept telling him he shouldn’t. As the concert was beginning to end, the three made their way over to Nate. They flashed their name tags. Marcus, Andre, and Jamal all surrounded the young twink.
“He wants to see you backstage,” Marcus said, keeping his badge visible so that Nate knew he worked for the singer. Right after Marcus finished, though, Jamal took out a rag and shoved it into Nate’s face. The young twink thrashed and tried to escape, but the men blocked his path. The few other people who walked by were all black, and were thankful that the fucking bitch would get some punishment. Finally, Nate slumped unconscious, and the three of them took him to a safe house, way off the beaten path.
When Nate awoke, he was stark naked in a basement. There was only one flimsy lightbulb illuminating the entire floor. He felt around on his hands and knees until he finally found the staircase. He climbed up them and prayed the door was unlocked. It was, but standing in front of him were Marcus, Andre, and Jamal. All three of them were buck naked, like he was, and all three proved the claim that black was bigger.
“Shut the fuck up,” said Andre, abruptly cutting the twink off. “I hope that by the end of this, your bitch-ass knows that you can’t say the n-word, at all.”
“No fuckin’ buts,” seethed Marcus. “If we ever get word that you utter that again, we will come and find you and fuck you up even more than we’re able to do right now.”
“Gay?” Jamal taunted. “Neither are we, bitch. But we know that getting a dick in a dude’s mouth is sometimes the only way to shut him the fuck up. Follow us.” Nate made a break for it, only to be met with an electric shock. As he writhed on the ground, Andre lorded over him with a little device in his hands.
“He sprung for the deluxe, and lightest, ankle monitor,” he explained, pointing at the thin strap around Nate’s heel. He hadn’t noticed it before. “Your sorry ass won’t be leaving until we’re done with you.” Nate then stood up and followed his three captors upstairs to the bathroom. The shower in there was one of those glass sliding versions, and attached to the inside was a dildo. A big black dildo, to be exact.
“Get on your knees and suck it,” Marcus said, simple and straight to the point.
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