The Telemachus Story Archive

Black Domination
By Cracker

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Righteous Black Male Domination

By Cracker

The Truth

When you come right down to it, white men unconsciously feel their instinctive inferiority to black men. I mean, why would you spend your existence trying to oppress and denigrate the black race if you truly believed it was inferior to yours, right?

No, the simple logic is that the white race fears and tries to hobble the black race simply because, deep in its unconscious soul, it knows which one is superior.

Once I realized this truth how could I not be attracted to a black man and want to serve his needs? Seek his superior guidance and find emotional and physical satisfaction in his service.

Attraction to power, to one wiser, to one superior is not only within us, it is fundamentally right.

Being gay as well, it would logically be sexual too.

Therefore, white men in denial act out of fear and oppress. White men who see reality, crave to serve black men knowing it is natural, both emotionally. For gay white men, it is also sexually fulfilling.

So, this was how this truth was revealed to me…..

We Connect

It began online. I’d read quite a few of his stories about black superiority and white men who service their needs. I found it triggered something within me. Something that made me realize that, for the first time, I had read truth. More than that, I realized that he was a writer who was both intelligent and well spoken. I felt myself being drawn to him. The more stories I read the more his truth seeped into every part of my existence. His quiet confident, always dominant personality washed over me. Soon I knew to my core...

Black men were superior to white men. Thus, it was only right and proper for this white man to want to serve him. In the end, I realized I had to fulfill the natural role of a white inferior towards its black superior by service training. The more I read, the greater my desire to serve him. It soon became not only intellectual but also profoundly emotional. His confident power, so clear in all his writings, proved intoxicatingly attractive.

Finally I decided to write to him. Like his stories, his reply was intelligent and yet it also had a bit of the distain in it. I was not insulted or offended. In fact, it felt right and natural. He had not reached out to me. I had reached out to him and was imposing on his time when he replied. Yeah, even his distain felt perfectly correct. As a member of a race that had continually imposed it self upon black men, finally getting such righteousness treatment back was justifiable. Although I could only guess, it may have been a test by him to see if, for once, a white man knew his proper place with his superior and realized such treatment was right.

Being subtly talked too only thrilled me more. As an inferior white man, I knew I deserved to be treated as such. That knowledge was overwhelmingly powerful. To be frank, it was also uncontrollably erotic too. Also, it felt completely natural. As if a missing piece of my racial identity had finally been set to rights.

White men, as their inferiors, should be respectfully serving black men & making life easier for them. Black males, being properly served, advance civilization. This was both logical and natural. It was Darwin who said that, if a species is to survive; the dominant superior strain must prevail. So, white men need to accept they are fundamentally flawed. Yet, in serving black them with respect and zeal, they can finally fulfill the role Nature planned for them.

Life Anew

I now awake each day both thrilled and with a purpose. For the first time I have realized I exist as a subservient white man in a dominant black man’s world. Now, as I walked about, every black man I passed took on a new aspect inside my head. I truly saw that innate power in every one. Each one displayed an indefinable confident essence in their every day demeanor.

They did not have to proclaim to white men that they saw:


They simply took quiet confidence in that knowledge. It was not black men who had to speak this truth out loud rather it was white men who had to acknowledge this fundamental truth deep in their very souls.

I now constantly crave my natural role in a black man’s world. To serve as told too, to obey as is right too, to do or compensate as is just too. My mind, my body, my ass if he wants it, my mouth if pleases him, are for a black man’s service. I know now that I must live the truth he showed me. Be the best white boy I can be doing what Nature had created members of my race to do.

The first journey ended in my awakening. The real purpose of my life now begins....

The Park

I met him in the park. I was taking in the warm sun. From the corner of my eye, I first noticed him. He had that confident stride that black men have as they face the world. He saw me gazing at him and gave me a look, which said, ”yeah you know a real man when you see him.”

He sauntered over and sat down next to me. I felt my throat dry up. He sat there simply looking up at the sky. His body was relaxed though by now I felt mine was tensing up. “Sunny day isn’t it, boy,” he muttered so softly only the two of us could hear him.


One word was all it took to show me that he knew where we stood.

“Yes Sir,” I managed to reply.

He turned to grin at me. “Come on,” he stated in a tone of voice that was compelling. He had no need to say more. He naturally assumed my obedience.

We got up. ”Stay a few paces behind,” he told me. “White boys need to learn their natural place is to walk in the black man’s shadow.”

I nodded and did as he told me. By now I knew my place. I walked in his shadow taking in the sight of his powerful domineering presence.

A few blocks later we entered a building. He never once glanced back during our journey. He knew he no need to check. We both knew he couldn’t care less about what this white boy would do or not do. He confidentially understood I ‘d naturally do it.

Minutes later we were in his apartment. He turned towards me. “Kneel boy,” he said not as a command, but as a statement from one who was my superior. We both instinctively knew that, as a white man, my place was on my knees before him.

He smiled as I knelt there. Slowly he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. “Service it,” he instructed. He moved slightly back so I would have to crawl towards him to take it into my mouth. As I did he chuckled. “Good white boy. The white man has centuries of crawling to do to pay for his treatment of strong black men.”

Things moved quickly. I lapped at his manhood as he instructed me in how a white boy needs to blow black men just right. Soon I was savoring his shaft as he thrust it into my throat.

“White boys are best on their knees sucking black men,” he told me as I slurped with an overpowering desire to please him. “After I seed your mouth and ass boy we are going to discuss how you can best be of use to me. You need to be of use to me, right.”

I nodded as I continued sucking him off. His powerful presence was intoxicating. I felt the waves of his dominating presence engulf me.

“Your mouth and your ass are mine to cum dump into when I feel like it boy,” he instructed. “After we finish, you will hand me your debit card and pin number, boy,” he grunted as his fucking into my mouth took on urgency. “You whites need to pay black men back for the shit you took off our labors. I’m taking your money as compensation for your white debt to us, got it.”

I again indicated my understanding not only of what he said but the knowledge of its righteousness and truth.

When he climaxed in my throat, I sucked up every drop. I wanted what he gave me. It was a privilege to drink his spunk. To be seeded by him. To serve him as he wanted in any way he desired.

Later he plowed my ass to give me the gift of his hot seed inside of me.

As he took my debit card and pin #, I was deliciously ecstatic. We walked to the bank, my ass-hole still dripping his cum and the taste of his cream in my throat. I felt truly owned by this alpha black man. My white boy life now had a natural purpose. I would now life to recompense for centuries of white stupidity in not seeing their inferiority and oppressing black men because of their superiority. It was a debt I longed to repay.

Just Compensation

It took us less than ten minutes for us to get to the ATM branch of my local bank. I saw him slip in my, now his, debit card and punch in the pin numbers. As I watched him begin to withdraw funds from my account, I recalled how white men had profited off black men. Now, finally things were going back into balance. He glanced over at me after the first withdrawal. “How does it feel,” he asked as he waved the money in front of me before putting it into his pants pocket.

“Fitting Sir,” I replied. I felt the first flush of arousal and smiled. I had pleased him. “More Sir. Please take more. It’s only justice.”

“Damned right it is only right, white boy. And I don’t need your permission to do it either,” he replied as he turned back to the ATM and hit it up for another cash withdrawal.

It felt so natural, so correct watching him drain my account. I also felt more mentally aroused than I’d ever experienced before in my life. It was as if he was symbolically mounting me. Money is a symbol of power. It was exciting seeing him bring that power back to the black men to whom it truly belonged. Stripping away what my race had unlawfully taken to bring it home. I glanced down and realized I was erect.

He noticed my gaze then where I was looking. “Yeah, its hot finally being of service to a black man isn’t it.”

I stared at his grinning face and nodded. “Fuck yes, Sir,” I managed to say. “Take what you are owed.”

For the next few minutes he did. Finally he finished drawing the maximum. “Heading home,” he laughed as he leisurely fanned the money before me before again, putting it into his pants pocket. “Profitable day. History getting righted.”

As he left to ATM booth, I followed. I made sure to stay, as I should, in his shadow. I was mentally and sexually on fire by now. Seeing his confident stride only served to reemphasize his superiority and my white inferiority.

He turned to look at me. “No. Not to my place. Go home white boy,” he firmly stated. “I have no further use for you today. Remember its about my wants and needs, never yours. Come back tomorrow and sit your ass by my front door. If I feel I might want to cum-dump into you then I’ll let you inside. For too long black men were forced to be at the white man’s call. That time is over. You jump when I say, got it?””

I smiled and nodded. His obvious distain for me only drove in deeper his truth about the black man’s superiority.

“Oh, and fucking make sure you bring your checkbook. You’ve got more cash fucking to do too,” he instructed. He left me there gazing in awe at his display of natural authority. I went home both aroused and eager to report as he directed.

Doing Service

I was there sitting at the side at his front door just before dawn. I’d spent the night lying in bed thinking of him recalling the sense of his authority and confidence that had washed over me. I showered and dressed and left before the morning light broke. I had to be there to serve him.

When he opened the door later that morning to get the paper he barely acknowledged my presence at his door. His attitude demonstrated to us both that he simply took it for granted I’d be there for him. After he picked up his paper, he glanced at me with a look that indicated I should come into his apartment. When I rose up from the floor, his face took on a stern image.

“Crawl white boy,” he rasped. “Only real men walk into my home. Crawl like you whites made us crawl.” He turned and went into his rooms.

I felt the justice of his order. Whites had flaunted the natural order in dealing with superior black men. It was time for that crime to be corrected. As I crawled into his home, I felt both aroused but also happy. I knew in my guts that, thanks to him, I was finally fulfilling my natural role in life. A role I, as a white man, had unjustifiably stolen from black men.

He sat at his kitchen table reading the paper and drinking his coffee. His attitude was similar to the one he’d shown when he opened his front door: total indifference to my presence. I crawled to him and sat at his feet. He was wearing only a jockstrap. My eyes took in the sight of his dark–hued, powerful torso, especially, that bulge held within his jockstrap.

I watched as he lazily reached down to casually scratch his bulge. Barely glancing at me he simply said, “I ain’t got all day. Use that mouth of yours for something in service to a man.”

Swiftly I crawled deep between his outstretched thighs. His strong musky scent filled my lungs and the warmth of his inner thighs caressed my cheeks. I sniffed his intoxicating odor.

“Fuck white boy,” he stated with a hint of annoyance. “What are you waiting for you bitch? Suck it. Fuck, sometimes you white boys are so stupid.” He quickly moved the jock’s tight cotton covering aside to show me his erection. I leaned inward and slurped it into my mouth with the heated eagerness of a boy needing his nourishment.

“White men on their knees sucking black man’s cock,” he said as he face fucked me. “Yeah that’s the true roles of the world.”

After he climaxed, while making sure I swallowed every drop of his cream, he left me there on my knees. He dressed, had me sign the check I’d brought, and then draped his jockstrap across my face like a mask. I breathed in his scent.

“I’m going to reclaim some of the money your race robbed from mine,” he told me. “You stay here and clean my place up. I filled your guts with my spunk. Now you can fill your lungs while doing some work until I return.”

I mumbled a ‘yes’ and slipped out my tongue to suck on the moisture his manhood had left upon the jockstrap’s cotton material.

He saw me doing it and laughed. “Yeah boy,” he teased. “Once you white boys see the truth you go all bitch for a black man, don’t ya. Well that’s only right cause in the end you are all bitches. All that white pride shit is just a cover-up for the fact you all know the truth deep inside of you: a black man makes you quiver with desire.” He went to a drawer and pulled out a long black colored butt plug. “Strip but don’t touch that strap.”

I did as he instructed. His commands always aroused me. He had me bend over and pull my pale butt-cheeks apart. I felt his spit on my quivering hole.

“You keep this in you white boy,” he told me as he pushed it up my chute. “I want you loose when I get back,” he instructed. He touched a button that was on the base of the butt plug. Instantly it began to vibrate.

I moaned and sprouted an erection.

“Don’t touch that dick got it,” he sharply said. “Now get to work and clean my place. Keep the jockstrap tight around your face too. When I come back I want your lungs filled with my scent and that hole quivering to be filled with my cock.

After watching him leave, I set about cleaning his home. His odor invaded my lungs while my ass tingled with anticipation of once more servicing his desires. He had rightfully mounted me, justifiably reclaimed the material wealth I’d stolen from him, and finally allowed me to what nature intended: a white boy in service to a member of the superior race.

I have no eyes to see, nor ears to hear, nor tongue to speak except as my superior black master directs. He truly is my Benevolent Dark Lord.

The End