##### GODS OF THIS EARTH #####
One year later...
In many ways the W.H.I.T.E. program had been a success, but there were mounting issues.
The security feature of showing a whiteman's most criminally relevant urge on his body hadn't made people feel as safe as hoped, since the `slaves' quickly figured out how to deceive and manipulate the system.
If a whiteman used desired actions to keep his racist thoughts from being public knowledge, was the system truly working toward integration? You never knew if a neut really meant it when he swore he loved to serve superiors. In a shocking twist, some slaves even collected punishments on purpose, being more rapey and racist they they'd otherwise have been.
On top of it all, the stream of white immigrants had hardly lessened. Something needed to change.
Technological progress created a wholesale answer -- targeted synaptic noise induction. If thoughts didn't speak as loud as words and actions, maybe silence was the path forward all along...
Jizzfag
It had taken a while to get used to the changes but by now it was second nature to this slave to follow the program's guidelines.
This slave stepped into the Dukumra sun, carrying a bag for its friends, as the intercity bus soundlessly slid in. Yes, this slave preferred to think of itself in third person now. It was inferior after all.
"Ready, boys?" Master Saif asked. The short man in a white jockstrap and a white chest belt had cut his hair to an undercut with a streak of blue.
This slave looked at his owner's body and just knew its arousal was trending up.
"Always," Master Joyo answered. The pale brown, ripped guy in a blue thong shouldered his bag. "Haven't been to Shentok for ages. It'll be like a little vacation. Jizz?"
"So excited, sir. This slave can hardly believe it hadn't seen Master Galang in months, sir."
Master Joyo grinned and gave this slave a fist slam in the Tri to turn off this slave's speaking privileges.
As pain rumbled into this slave's abdomen, it briefly had the slightest spark of an unkind thought of... Bzzzzzz.
The synaptic noise induction wasn't really noticeable -- after all, it suppressed consciousness and all unapproved thoughts with it. All this slave knew was that it got punished and deserved it, even if it didn't know what it had -- nearly -- thought to get today's second Admonishment.
We boarded the bus across Dukumra. This slave got railed by its punishment and knelt between its owner's legs, flooded with gratitude as Master Saif draped his gorgeous leg over its shoulder.
This slave's S-display expanded as this slave got registered by the bus network.
Sex Crazed, Claimed, urges: cock sucking, public anal masturbation, piss drinking.
There were no more Os or Rs, no `days of service remaining', no indicator for attitude. The program was perpetual until the whiteman in question was judged integrated by his owner, his friend group, as well as by advanced neural integration and non-racism measurements.
Shentok lay at the coast opposite Patrabok, but was a similarly charming town with a wide, bright beach. Holo-banners told of today's lightkite world cup events, transparent images of surfing icons projected above the sand.
We met Master Galang in front of a row of colorful booths.
The lithe man's ochre eyes were as striking as ever, his physique now a little beefed out. He wore the pale blue jockstrap of the Dukumra Dolphins. He had dyed his mohawk in the same color.
We friends hugged, including this slave, who would have loved to tell Master Galang how much it missed his cock some nights.
Master Saif slapped this slave's ass. "Jizzfag, get us drinks."
But this slave really wanted to talk to Master Gal- Bzzzz.
"Sir yes sir," this slave said after a split second of confusion. It jogged off, dropped to its knees for a quick Admonishment, and kept jogging to the drinks.
The beach wasn't crowded exactly, but decently full. The junior league races were already on -- aspiring boys riding their lightkites just off the shore, painting neon streaks across the horizon.
This slave stepped through an arch of helium balloons, checking its wrist for which booth Master Saif had placed orders at.
"Hey neut," someone said from the side.
A tall, dark featured teen with a gold septum ring grabbed this slave's crotch. He wore creamy white mini shorts and a white leather x-harness.
"Sir, how may this slave be of service, sir?"
"Can you surf?" He pulled his hand off the Tri for a moment to look at the letter. "J?"
"Sir, this slave's friends are avid lightkiters and it has practiced with them, sir. This slave must admit it is inferior to real man even in sports but happy to assist for entertainment, sir."
"We're one guy short, cause Darma's monkey is still at work. Join for a friendly match?"
This slave hadn't been on a board in weeks and its legs were eager to feel the waves again. The urge to disregard duty and just make off with a bunch of teens was- Bzzzz.
"Sir, this slave is on a mission for its owner, sir."
"Well, duh. Ask him for permission. And do you have a name?"
"Sir, this idiot slave is designated Jizzfag by its owner. This slave will request leave from its owner upon delivering drinks, sir."
"Cool. I'm Agung," the teen said. "This is Darma. This is Hu."
He pointed at a dark, slender teen with a sharp face and gold nipple studs. He had a buzzcut with a design shaved into it. His string thong and wristbands were green. He grabbed this slave's throat and pulled this slave in. "Open, Jizzfag."
This slave opened its mouth and Master Darma spat on its tongue. An urge to pull back rose in me... uh, in this sl- Bzzzzz.
"Thank you, Master Darma, sir. This slave would love to drink your spit and piss and cum all day."
Master Darma slapped his slave. "Good monkey."
A flood of gratitude nearly sent this slave to its knees.
The final guy hung back. Master Hu was Chinese by the looks of it, a black middle part revealing his dangling silver earrings that matched his nipple studs and the jewelry on his fingers. He wore a black slingshot thong. A shark tattoo ran from his upper pec to his jawline.
Master Hu only nodded at this slave. This slave gave a light bow in return.
With a slap on the ass, Master Agung sent this slave on its way, its speaking permission gone.
This slave accepted two consecutive punishments. One for disobedience to its owner, one for something that had happened with Master Darma. The specifics were gone from this whitemen's mind, but the knowledge it had failed remained. Castigations were in order.
Fuckbait
I hadn't seen Master Malik again since sunrise. He and his buddies had VIP tickets for practically everything and slaves as well as pets were not included. The thought of black and Asian gods celebrating among themselves made my head spin.
I would have liked joining my friends like a superi- Bzzzzz. I accepted today's first Castigation for a thought I no longer recalled having. I dove into a world of ebbing and flowing pain.
Anyway, I had beach fun on my own. Being alone on a different continent would have been scary but luckily I had Bitchboy with me.
We two slaves knelt on sand and drank Dukumra piss down our throats. The man in front of me squeezed his last drops onto my tongue and shoved his package back into his jockstrap before leaving.
Bitchboy grabbed my Tri, his own cotch lit.
I gave my white friend's Tri a grope. "Slave B, this Fuckbait is ready for input."
Bitchboy nodded over to a gathering near the water. "The round is almost over, slave F. Western Whiptails are next."
"This Fuckbait proposes we go over, slave B. Drinking from gorgeous dicks is my duty but fun is permitted today."
"This monkey agrees, slave F. Even though it loves dicks in its mouth."
We rose and made our way to the loose congregation of fanboys and their white friends, cheering on the racers. The Rapid Oceanic Obstacle Course was done one team at a time and it was my owner's favorite's turn. I knew my superior friends were cheering from the VPI platform right now.
Bitchboy and I passed the observation deck's holo-cordon where flexi-smart air-shower bursts pushed the sand off our skin.
I let my right hand and forearm get sprayed at the lube terminal and rammed it into Bitchboy's ass, each fist punch rubbing deeper. My other hand was around the slave's abs to keep him from getting lifted by my much stronger physique. Bitchboy threw his head back, fingers on his nipples, mouth open, his whines muffled.
With slow pumps I left his guts and flash-disinfected. Meanwhile Bitchboy had lubed up and hammered into me. With fingers on my nipples, I silently groaned. I had tightened up a little since my last hygiene check an hour ago and felt nicely spread again.
I could have taken hours but barely got a minute. We grabbed each other's crotches.
"This Fuckbait will sit down over there, slave B."
"Got it, slave F."
We marched to a free spot on the wood plank ground, next to two whites who were licking the thighs of an older native. Bitchboy and I sat down, a hand on each other's ass cracks, invading with a few fingers each.
A Dukumra boy sat down next to me with his girlfriend, leaning his naked leg on me. A warm fuzz of gratitude made me sigh. I wondered if he wanted his dick sucked but he got busy making out with his chick. I was disappointed by- Bzzzzz.
When I `awoke' from my 15 seconds of deserved and righteous whole-body torture, Master Panjang was already rapid running obstacles. His nearly nude physique ripped the lightkite around with seemingly prophetic precision the second an obstacle aqua-drone shot from the waves.
Close behind him was D. The white athlete ducked his wide, lean body under the holo-banners of zooming obstacle drones, arms spread for balance as he hopped ten feet off the water surface. I remembered meeting him when he was still Dylan and- Bzzzzz.
I delayed my punishment to finish watching. D had only gotten better since his home state had implemented the program. He wore a broad silver collar with the Whiptail emblem, instead of a jockstrap -- his Tri making modesty unnecessary.
Bitchboy squeezed my Tri and I gave a grope in return. Speaking time.
"Any idea who D's owner is?" Bitchboy asked.
"This Fuckbait has no clue. Look is up?"
Bitchboy called up a query on his wrist for a close up of D's side profile. His ear tag gave a name neither of us knew.
"Not a team mate, huh?" Bitchboy said. "This slave is a little surprised."
"Must be nice owning a star lightkiter," I said, "whoever is so lucky." I'd have felt great if I could have owned- Bzzzz.
Bitchboy grinned. "I got buzzed. Jealous, too, Fuckbait?"
"Yeah, just got buzzed, too. We inferiors don't deserve owning anything. We are objects used to entertain and please. This Fuckbait is happy to be property of its master."
"This Bitchboy craves only cock and doesn't even deserve it. Every superior cum load is a gift and a privilege."
We had satisfied the system -- and used words and actions to manage our thoughts, inching ever closer to ideal whitemanship.
I felt a tap on the shoulder. It was the boy leaning on me, now sans girlfriend.
"Sir, how can this Fuckbait be of assistance, sir?"
"Blowjob?
"With pleasure, sir. This Fuckbait has two Castigations pending. If you would reserve a booth, it will catch up, sir."
I was grinning wide as I watched the teen walk off, his location marked on my wrist. The smile was wiped off my face when I dove into a cacophony of punishment -- the only thing a whiteman truly deserved.
Dickbrain
I had awaited the world cup with great anticipation.
Coach-slash-Master Jamal had gotten a few more whites from Shentok on board but it was mostly up to me and Slutboy to keep our African gods entertained while they prepped for the rapid obstacle race in the tent.
Taking Karim's thick, beautiful rod to the neat pubes left me desperately wanting to drain his balls all the way, but it was only my job to fluff him up a little. Getting Karim's body tense and ready for his warm up. I wasn't allowed to make him cum.
Being an aptly named Dickbrain I really wanted to suck his load, though, so I felt an urge to ask if maybe- Bzzzzzz.
Karim was fluffed up and slipped his package back into his zebra jockstrap -- a fashionable semi now tenting the pouch.
Next to me, Yusuf pulled out of Slutboy's ass. The Zantombo Zebra team was called to the warm up area.
I waited until their stunning physiques vanished among the cheering fanboys and world cup personnel. Muscles and beauty and dark skin everywhere. I hadn't stopped being an `Anal Whore' all day.
I reached for the lube terminal, shoved a slick hand up my ass to the wrist and accepted Castigation. This was the Dickbrain way.
"Ready to cheer for them, slave?" I heard Slutboy ask as I came to.
I noticed I still had speaking permission. Fuzzy, dreamy gratitude wandered up my spine.
"Yeah, slave S. Let's show our gods how much we love them."
We made it out of the tent, walking past the podium where kiters were interviewed after racing.
A neut with a sparkly silver collar was talking to a camera drone hovering over the shoulder of a brown woman in a flimsy hip scarf.
"Slave D," she asked, "will your owner be satisfied with your performance?"
"I hope so," D said with a relaxed smile. "I live to serve him first and foremost. I'm so glad he supports my life's dream and ambition." D flexed. "He enjoys my body, so it's a great honor to show off his property."
"You have a lot of fanboys here in Dukumra."
D chuckled. "I've noticed that. Now that I'm done racing for the day I'm sure I'll suck and ride cocks all day."
"Is that something you were looking forward to before the W.H.I.T.E. program was mandatory in your state?"
"I'm... I'm strai..." You could see D loose his train of thought -- see the buzzing. "I live to serve. Superior cock deserves to be treated well. That's good whitemanship."
"A role model," the interviewer said with a nod. "I'll let you get started then." She turned to the next guy. "Panjang, you created a new personal best. How does that feel?"
We moved on, closer to the water.
A teen stepped in my way. He was tall and built, darker than the average native to this nation. His detailed, small featured face had narrow eyes gleaming with mischief, a silver nose ring matching the dyed streak along the center of his mohawk. He wore a bright red thong. His right forearm was covered in tattoos.
"Hey anal whores," he said with a drawl. "Can either of you kite a bit?"
He kneed me in the Tri. I already had speaking permission so that was clearly unnecessary but I was just happy to be noticed.
"Sir, this Dickbrain has assisted a professional team with practice, sir. And so has Slutboy over here, sir."
I was quite proud of myself. I was probably a decent kiter even compared to many nativ- Bzzzzz.
"Good neut."
"However, sir, our masters have ordered us to participate in the audience for their race, sir."
"Ugh, seriously? Right now?"
"Yes, sir."
The teen shrugged. "So we can have a little match after, right? We still need two teammates. I'm Sineen, this is Haruun."
He gestured at a short, thick-necked boy in a psychedelic jockstrap, scrolling on his wrist.
"Sir, this slave is happy to serve if its owner allows so, sir."
"Cool. We'll head to the observation deck, too, I guess."
"These whitemen will follow, sir."
We continued to chat while we got air showered to remove sand. Some ready whitemen rammed their arms into our slave holes at the entrance. Getting fisted while chatting with sporty, superior teens gave me chills of appreciative glee.
I quickly accepted my punishment on my knees. Waking up from a Castigation of 30 seconds or more was always like a full reset. I faced a new day, reawakening right in a crowd of dark buns and golden legs.
I rose with typical Dickbrain thoughts. My public masturbation urge (anal, receiving) was now stronger than my public urination one -- for all the world to see. I couldn't recall my last penile orgasm when getting Os was still a thing. Not that a puny split second of relief would have helped me.
But sometimes I just really wanted to jerk o- Bzzzzz.
Then it was time to cheer for the Zantombo Zebras like mad and we neutered monkeys added our voices. It was a pleasure to watch my friends have the time of their lives.
Assbitch
The bay a mile off the main beach became a minor congregation area after the world cup's big events had passed.
The cloudless sky was turning orange, paper lanterns lined the stone path and little buildings.
Master Aroon and Master Chakan had teamed up with their nemeses Master Tao and Master Lamon for a friendly match against the Atoll Abalones.
The Panthers' and Serpents' had equally dressed in bright yellow jockstraps to support the Djassabong team in the world cup -- temporarily forming the Stalking Snakes. Save for Master Chakan's `palm tree' of hair the men had adopted matching mohawks.
They were going up against a junior league quartet of Atoll Abalones in tiny black thongs with peals printed on the crotch.
This happy slave had missed the start of the match because Master Kiet had been fucking its ass -- for which it was highly appreciative. By the time Master Kiet was done with it -- donating an Admonishment - and wandered off to flirt with onlooking girls, this happy whiteman's timer had worn off.
This happy slave activated the free hourly Castigation, getting blissfully pain reamed all over, kneeling at the edge of the path, as superior boys and girls walked by without taking note of the pathetic neut it was.
Master Aroon was playing circles around the opponents, scoring points all by himself while the other three teammates just blocked the teens from grabbing the ball drones. The 3D nature of the match made the players slam past each other, pushing each other into the water repeatedly. But the Abalones were getting more aggressive, kites clashing as they bumped their way past to blockades instead of trying to hop over and dash under.
The neon streaks of spinning boards glinted at the intersections as the men and boys muscled into each other. Master Aroon went down, into the bay, as the ball passed to an Abalone.
This happy slave narrowed its eyes at the opponent who had made its owner drop and thought `fuck you'.
Nothing? Maybe the player really was a jerk in this match. This happy whiteman thought harder, `Fuck you, you owe me a blowjo-' Bzzzzz.
Another dive into a world of glorious stimulation.
The moment this happy white came to, a short, buzzcut Dukumra man in a beige jockstrap stood before it and gave a foot tap to this happy neut's Tri.
Looking right ahead this happy slave said, "Sir, how may this happy Assbitch be of service, sir?"
"Know how to greet?"
"Sir, yes, sir, this happy Assbitch loves to serve, sir."
Another ball-crushing foot tap turned speech off again.
In places where the W.H.I.T.E. program was new -- and jockstraps had only just gotten into fashion -- the existing anti-coolness measures had not been enough to keep whiteness from shedding its underdog rep. A new kind of greeting had developed to fix that.
The native man turned around, slightly bent, and this happy slave gave a good licking to the presented ass crack. The man watched the match for a minute, letting this happy slave demonstrate good whitemanship and tongue discipline.
As the man left, this happy Assbitch greedily thought about persuading and rim-raping the man to get more time between those firm chee- Bzzzz. Another round of amazing sensation.
This happy neut could have spent all day this way, but it got permission to piss. The mind-flooding urge to empty its bladder drove this happy slave to roam the area.
A few whites were congregating at the douche station right now, so it joined.
It and three other neuts -- J, S and D - pissed with legs apart, spraying each other as the grate reflected the streams while their asses got a touch up from the douche tubes. Their chests considered the trio In Use', even the Secured' S.
J and S were done first, checking each other's gut cleanliness with elbow deep, slow strokes. Then, a few steps away from the station, they touched each other's flat crotches.
"Are you playing for the other team?" S asked. "If so this slave is glad to entertain superiors along with you."
J nodded. "This Jizzfag was recruited by three guys with beautiful cocks and shining personalities -- Masters Agung, Darma and Hu. This slave will do its best to make its masters win."
S winked. "This slave will try the same, Jizzfag. Good luck."
The last one, D, was done around the same time as this happy slave and we checked each other, punching deep with slick arms. This happy slave and D remained `testing' for a minute, refreshing the lube, until the trio was called over to play in the bay.
Jizzfag went with three hotties on rental boards, while D and S joined two teens who had their own four kites.
This happy slave envied the attention, feeling owed by its superi- Bzzzzz.
This happy-as-fuck Assbitch walked around the bay's play space, greeting real man with expert rimming, collecting Castigations, drinking from delicious fuck rods -- to the sound of five men and three whites bumping each other into the water.
A man pushed this happy Assbitch to its knees. Warm fuzzy shivers ran up this happy white's spine.
This happy slave dove into the ass of a god to lick hello and get him nicely turned on for a throat or ass fucking.
Absentmindedly rubbing its Tri, this happy slave chased a vague memory of what penile orgasm had once felt like before- Bzzzz.
No orgasms could compare to the pleasure of serving every second of its life. While the program had its downsi- Bzzzzz.
Life was fucking awesome. The kind stranger waved this happy slave to follow, so it rose and gave the stranger a playful slap on the ass, getting an Admonishment in return.
We entered a booth, semi-transparent glass letting us watch the amateur match outside even as this happy slave was used in the most pleasurable ways.
The kind stranger stepped out of his jockstrap, to reveal a perfect cock, rapidly growing past semi hard.
This happy Assbitch thought how it deserved th- Bzzzzz.
As the dick entered this happy slave's ass for a rough, hammering fuck, the kind stranger wrapped his hands around this happy slave's neck.
Eyes on the crowd and match outside where lightkite streams painted the evening sky, this happy neut had nothing but love for the program. It accepted its three consecutive Castigation and vanished into a world of fun and service.