Work Text
Clay Jenson was a more-or-less average 16-year old boy in a more-or-less average town in middle America. He was deep in the throes of his sophomore year at Liberty High School, surrounded by his average run-of-the-mill classmates and average, dull, disinterested teachers.
Clay thought about things normal 16-year-old boys think about. He thought about schoolwork — he liked to think that he was pretty good at school, though no genius; he thought about girls — one in particular, Hannah Baker, the mysterious, quirky new girl who moved to town over the summer; he thought about his crappy job at the Cressmont Theater — made a lot less crappy by the fact that Hannah had just started working there too.
He thought about sex. A lot. He thought about sex with Hannah of course, but he also thought about sex with plenty of other pretty girls and there was no shortage of bookmarked porn sites on his computer that he’d secretly masturbate to after school while his parents thought he was doing homework. Beside his desk sat a trusty waste paper basket perpetually half full of used tissues that he would conscientiously empty every few days lest the bleachy, sea-shore smell of cum permeate the room. He was thinking about sex the morning his life began to become less average, just a few weeks after New Year's — waking from the haze of a dream he was pretty sure was about Hannah — a tangle of curly brown hair and sharp, blue eyes. Amid the warmth under his covers he could feel his pulsing erection begging for relief. He looked bleary-eyed to his alarm clock, inwardly groaning once realizing he’d only have a few minutes to get ready — not enough time to pull one out.
He sat up, stretched, silently pleaded for his hard-on to subside, and then like every good millennial, checked his phone, laying resolutely on his nightstand.
Not really expecting anything — who’d be messaging him anything overnight? — he was surprised to find there was a text from an unknown number. With that telltale hit of dopamine to the brain, Clay opened the text to find what was the most bizarre message he’d ever receive in his young life:
Hello white boys! Today begins the first day of the rest of your lives. Starting today and over the next few weeks I’ll be sending a series of text messages I like to call: ’13 Reasons Why White Boys Should Submit to Asian Men.’ Yes, you read that right. I have 13 reasons why inferior white boys like you should surrender to their Asian betters and I can’t wait to share them with you. Now I know you’re probably thinking this sounds ridiculous, harassing and downright racists. Hear me out: Just follow my reasoning and at the end of these few weeks we’ll see how you still feel. If you still feel like these are the ravings of a race-baiting lunatic, you can forget it ever happened and move on with your lives. I have a feeling though, you’ll come to see things my way.
So let’s begin. I’ll start with something easy to digest: White boys should serve Asian Men because Asians are intellectually superior.
Have a great day!
Clay read the strange message several times over, hand absentmindedly on his still-hard dick. The text was jovial, sing-songy even, which made it all the more bewildering considering its underlying message. “Surrender to their Asian betters”? What dumb shit was that? He felt a dull, hot anger well up inside mixed with….something else. Was it embarrassment? Shame? Why would he feel embarrassed over some racist pervert’s sick fantasies?And then it hit him: It was just some sexual fantasy. Someone must have texted it to him by accident. He looked at the number again. Huh, it was a local area code, so it must’ve come from someone in the county. Don’t ask what goes on behind closed doors in small town America, Clay mused.He began to type: “Um think you have the wrong number. Also this is pretty sick.” He felt the need to express his indignation, needed to denounce what this stranger had written. Needed to defend his whiteness? He shook his head and deleted the second sentence. After all, this was a progressive town. Clay himself was the son of a college professor and a trial lawyer, both reliably liberal. He wasn’t altogether sure roleplaying about dominating another race was a “politically correct” fantasy, but then so long as they were consenting adults not hurting anyone else, why should it bother him? Hadn’t he, in fogs of horniness, clicked on interracial porn— watched petite white girls stretched open by big black cock? It felt obscene and taboo to be sure — it was about as raunchy as it got for Clay — but it was hot for some reason and there was a lot of it, so he at least knew he wasn’t alone in this particular voyeuristic pleasure.
He sent the one-sentence text, and got ready for the day. Twenty minutes later he was heading out the door avoiding a glare from his mother for missing family breakfast, muttering an apology as he grabbed his lunch. Before getting on his bike he checked his phone again. Nothing. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting — an apology? Whoever sent it was probably beyond embarrassed it got to the wrong person and wanted nothing more to do with Clay.Still, as he rode to school, Clay couldn’t help but think of those words, a small prick of annoyance spiking within his chest. It was such a tired stereotype, the whole ‘Asians are smarter’ thing. It peeved off Clay — who was, after all, an honors student — to think that someone would consider him less intelligent because of his race.He rode up to the school some minutes later, still preoccupied with his thoughts when a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind, causing him to jump.“Shit dude, sorry, but I called your name like three times.” Clay found himself looking into the brown eyes of his shorter, slick-haired best friend, Tony Padilla.“Ah, sorry Tony, guess I’m a bit distracted.”“Everything alright?” Tony was in a permanent state of concern for his friend — Clay was lucky to have him.“Yeah, yeah, just a biology quiz first period. Going over the stages of mitosis in my head,” Clay said, forcing a chuckle. Tony looked unconvinced.“Alright, well you know I’m here if you ever need to talk about something.”Clay made a show of playfully rolling his eyes. Tony was always so sappy — he attributed it to his latino upbringing. “I know Tony, thanks. I’ll see you around.” He patted Tony on the shoulder as the bell for first period rang. The first half of the day went by uneventfully. Clay mostly forgot about the text though he mentally winced every time an Asian passed him in the hall or spoke up in class. At lunch, he sat with Jeff Atkins, who he tutored in English. As Jeff fiddled with the poem he had due next period, Clay decided to take one last look at the text. Really, he should have deleted it by now, but he guessed he was just waiting for a response.Reading over the words, he was again struck with how odd the phrasing was. He now was unsure why his mind immediately went to sex when he first read. Nothing about it was inherently sexual. He supposed he latched onto the distinction of white boys and Asian Men, the gendered language making him think it had something to do with some homosexual fetish. The idea of ‘submission’ was common in sexual fantasy too, right?Ok, now he was going full-on AP English nerd over this stupid text, but he couldn’t help himself; he had to make sense of it. He continued reflecting: Besides, if it wasn’t sexual, what would it be? An honest-to-God digital-age mini-dissertation on the primacy of the Asian male? Someone couldn’t actually think like that in this day and age, could they? If it was a genuine explication of someone’s actual beliefs, the reasoning at its heart was more than a bit sparse. Asians are smarter? Ok, where’s the evidence? Where’s the data?
But then conversely, for a sexual roleplaying fantasy, wasn’t this unusually elaborate? The text said there would be 13 reasons given over the course of several weeks! Seemed like a long time for two guys to get their rocks off. Clay's thoughts kept circling back on themselves.And then, for an instant, his heart stopped. Beneath his short reply, a text bubble with an ellipsis appeared indicating someone was writing back. Maybe he was about to get his apology after all.Seconds later, a new message appeared: “Are you a white boy?”Clay’s brow furrowed in confusion. What the hell was this? It was a simple question and yet for some reason it felt deeply intrusive. Compared to the long, strangely friendly first text, this response seemed sharp and curt — almost accusatory. Was he being conscripted into some gay guys' racist roleplay?He thought about how to respond to this question that was none of this rando’s business. He knew instantly that he would respond — the first text had stayed in the back of his mind for 5 hours since he had first read it. There was no way he was going to allow this to nag at him forever; he needed to get to the bottom of it.He considered responding with a simple “No.” How was this guy gonna know any better? Maybe then he’d get an apology. But, in a silly way, it somehow felt like he’d be betraying his race. He wasn’t proud of being white exactly — that seemed a bit neo-Nazi-ish — but he wasn’t ashamed either. Why should he feel uncomfortable revealing his whiteness?
He thought for a second of maybe replying, “No, I’m a white man,” but immediately realized how childish that sounded. Plus truth be told, he didn’t exactly believe that. He was only 16 for Christ’s sake! He played with telescopes, and read comic books, and still had an old pair of pajama bottoms with cartoons on them that he still wore on cold nights. He was a boy. A young man, perhaps, but also still a boy.He mulled over “Yea?” trying to convey something like ‘Yes I am, you got a problem with that?’ but then he didn’t want to appear like he was soliciting more of this ridiculous back-and-forth. Or worse yet didn’t want to make it seem like he was interested in what this weirdo would have to say about his race.In the end, he settled on an unadorned “Yes.” He felt a bit chagrined that this was the best he could muster after all that contemplating, but he reasoned that this way he adequately communicated his self-confidence in his own identity and maybe a hint of defiance at this guy’s unwelcome inquisition.He hit ‘send’ and stared at screen, waiting. This time, only about half a minute passed before the ellipsis bubble popped up.When the reply appeared on the screen, Clay’s mouth fell open as if he had been slapped. “Then these texts are for you.”Nothing more, no further explanation. Clay was meant to get these texts? He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with that, his mind sputtering to wrap itself around the implications. He was only jostled out of his brain-freeze when Jeff called his name, loudly: “Dude, where are you? I need your help.”“Sorry, what’s up.” He pried his eyes from the screen of his phone.“I’m supposed to use zuegma in this poem,” Jeff started, unsurprisingly mispronouncing the literary term. “What the hell is that!? Is it like smegma.” He grinned like an idiot over his own joke.Clay wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, dude. That’s disgusting. Why do you even know that word? Let me see what you have so far.” He reached towards the poem, thankful for the distraction. He would just have to let this go; there was no use trying to get inside the mind of a pervert, who could very well be a pedophile after all. No, Clay was resolved to ignore any more texts. Clay’s last class of the day was pre-calculus. By this time he was starting to feel back to normal, content in his decision to ignore the perversions that had appeared on his phone. In the back of his mind he knew he should just delete the texts and be done with them completely, and he would delete them when he got the chance. Of course he would.
As he listened to his math teacher, Ms. Dunbar, drone on about the relationship between sin and co-sin, he reminded himself that he was one of the few sophomores to get into this class; typically it was for juniors. He was plenty smart, he thought, comforting himself, though admittedly the class wasn’t his best subject. But still, he did well enough. He tried to focus back on the lecture but furtively glanced at the clock above the door every few minutes waiting for this long, weird day to finally be over.
About two minutes before the final bell would ring, Ms. Dunbar announced that she was handing back last week’s test. Clay’s heart rate quickened as it always did when he got back grades, but it usually was only good news.“Congrats to Ms. Crimsen for getting a perfect score!” Clay thought he felt something like a click going of somewhere in his mind. Ok, yes, Courtney Crimsen was Asian — and another sophomore — but she’d always been good at math! Ever since they started together in middle school. Clay wasn’t sure what point he was trying to make to himself, only, he guessed, that it shouldn’t bother him as much as it was right now. At least she was a girl at any rate. He looked over at her; she was looking down at her desk blushing, trying not to look to pleased with herself.“Well done, Mr. Dempsey.” Clay’s ears pricked up to this. Zach Dempsey, the “sweet, kinda dumb,” Zach Dempsey? The basketball-playing meathead jock? How well could he have done? Clay tried inconspicuously to look over to desk. From the way Zach was holding his exam towards him, he was able to unmistakably see the sharp point of the top of an ‘A’. Another click. Well so what? Good for Zach. He was a junior anyway. It didn’t mean anything.Clay watched as Ms. Dunbar passed out more results. When she handed one back to Justin Foley, another junior, his face immediately went red and he quickly shoved the paper into his book bag. Not a good sign. Clay thought he caught Justin glancing over towards Zach’s desk before he got up and silently walked out of the classroom.Ms. Dunbar finally got around to him and wordlessly placed Clay’s exam on his desk; he felt his body sink into his chair slightly. It was a ‘B’. It was fine, really. Math wasn’t his strongest subject, and pre-calc had so far been much more difficult than his past classes. But he still felt the heat of embarrassment around his collar. He’d been beaten by a pretty-boy jock. From some secret place within him came a mean whisper: “An Asian pretty-boy jock.” Click. At home, Clay skipped his usual daily jack-off session. He wasn’t in the mood. He struggled with his history reading, mind constantly wandering off. He wondered bitterly if he’d have better focus if he were Asian.He was more quiet than usual at dinner.“So Clay,” his mother started, part of her never-ending quest to strike up conversation with her son. “Did you get back your math test?” It would have seemed prophetic if she hadn’t asked him about it every day since he had taken the damned thing.“Uh yeah,” he shifted in his seat. “I got a B,” he said, mumbling.His dad looked up from his phone. “A B? B as in boy?”A click went off in his head so hard, he actually winced. His dad’s choice of words immediately reminded him of the texts from earlier: “Are you a white boy?”“Yes, a B,” he spoke clearer this time.“Oh. Good,” his dad said, earning a withering glare from his mom. “What? I thought he might’ve of said he got a D! A B’s fine. I was never good at math, look how I turned out.”
His mom’s face turned into one of comic skepticism before turning back to Clay. “A B is not bad, sweetie, but you know how important grades are this semester.” Here we go, Clay thought. Again. She said this every semester since he had started high school. “College is more difficult than ever to get into, what with a rising number of applicants, higher standardized test score, and then with affirmative action —“His dad, the consummate progressive, butt in: “Really, Lainie, affirmative action? You’re not actually going there, are you?”“I’m just saying, all these factors come together to make it very difficult for boys like Clay to get into the top schools.” Boys like Clay. There is was again.“Just be glad he’s not Asian,” his dad said nonchalantly going back to his phone.Clay’s heart nearly popped out of his chest. “W-why’s that?” He tried his best to sound casual, failing miserably, though neither parent seemed to notice.“Well,” his father began, not looking up from his screen. “There’s a well-known bias against Asian applicants in college admissions. They say it’s because Asian applicants don’t indicate diverse enough interests, but the real reason is that if there wasn’t a bias, Asian’s would make up the majority of the student populations at the top schools.” He looked up to give a smug smile to his wife. “In a way Clay actually benefits from affirmative action.”His mom looked back in tired annoyance as Clay tried his best to hide the pink blush that had creeped across his face. That night, like a boy possessed, Clay researched the extensive documentation of Asian intellectual supremacy. He thought how ironic it was that earlier in the day he had criticized that first text for not providing any solid evidence of its claim, yet here he was doing the work for it. No, he tried to explain to himself. He was looking for proof to refute the damn text. And sure, there were some politically correct articles arguing that it was dangerous to generalize a person’s intellectual capabilities based on their race — yet browsing through test results and scientific achievements appeared to confirm what Clay deep down knew to be true, what those two unprovoked events that day, the math test results and his own father’s affirmative action aside, had pointed to: Asians were simply smarter than white boys like him. With each new statistic and factoid, a steady stream of click-clicking went off, not entirely unpleasantly, in Clay’s mind.
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A few days had passed since Clay got that first text. There wouldn’t be a couple of hours that would pass where he didn’t get some reminder of Asian intellect: an Asian completing a difficult math problem in class, the nightly news talking about how some Asian immigrant won a national science award (his mom unhelpfully muttering, “Well, there’s a full-ride to Harvard right there.”), a dumb white boy in the library with an Asian over his shoulder patiently trying to help him with homework. Clay felt like a trained dog — ears pricking and head swiveling towards any sign of Asian superiority. The clicking in his head was constant.Eventually it began to stop bothering him. So what if they were smarter? He was still smart relative to the rest of the school, and he could still be content in that. Besides, Asians being smarter in no way led to the text’s conclusion that white boy should submit. That was ridiculous — a complete non sequitur. He reasoned that it was his pride before that had gotten him so upset when he first read that text, and that he shouldn’t take himself so seriously. If Asians were truly the smartest race, that was fine — it didn’t have to affect him at all. He was feeling almost completely back to normal, when a buzz went off in his pocket on his way to fourth period. His friends or parents rarely texted him at school, but of course being a modern 16-year-old, his hand went immediately to fish out his phone. He had a sneaking suspicion of who it might be…Sure enough on the locked home screen he could see a text from an unknown number starting with the words, “Hello again white boys! Did you miss me?”Clay’s head shot up and he clutched his phone to his chest. He quickly looked around to see if anyone might have seen — as if anyone would be interested in the texts he got, or had super-human eyesight capable of reading a text from more than a few feet way. As usual, no one was paying attention to him.There was a moment’s hesitation — for one brief instant he had the choice to simply ignore the message, to not go down this rabbit-hole again. But he knew deep down he was going to read it; his…sense of morbid curiosity, yes that was it…would force him to.With one last look around his shoulder just to be safe, heart beating slightly faster now, he opened the text and read:
“Hello again white boys! Did you miss me?
Of course you did. So I think you’ve all had enough time to convince yourself that Asians are the intellectually dominant race, right? Didn’t have to search too hard for the truth, I bet, did you?
Well without further ado, here’s is the second reason that I present for your kind consideration. I have a feeling you might resist this more than the last one, but I’m sure you’ll come to agree sooner than you might think:
White boys should submit to Asian Men, because Asian men are athletically superior.
See you around, whitey.”
Clay could feel that now-familiar heat rise around his neck. He read the text twice more. “See you around”…? Did that mean whoever was sending these texts was someone Clay had seen before? Someone from town? Get a grip, Clay thought. Probably nothing more than a casual sign-off. A voice startled him back into reality.“Phones away, Mr. Jensen.” It was Mr. Porter, the school’s counselor, heading in the opposite direction down the hall. Clay tried his best to get the deer-in-headlights look off his face, but as he muttered and apology and shoved the phone back in his pocket he could see Mr. Porter eyeing him with a look of suspicion on his face. But really, how much trouble could sweet, innocent Clay Jensen really be in? Evidently the counselor didn’t think much, because he passed the boy without saying another word. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself Clay headed to history class. But he just couldn’t focus as Mr. Weston droned on about the Depression of 1893. Once again, he couldn’t take his mind off that text. Because, ok, Asians were smarter. Fine. Everyone already knew that. But more athletic? That was laughable, wasn’t it? Clay could maybe see Black men being better at sports than whites, but how many Asians were there in the NFL? That one kicker from the Chargers? Maybe there were a handful over the years in basketball and baseball, but come on. The idea was ridiculous.Yes, it was ridiculous, Clay thought, lips curving upwards to a smile. This whole thing was ridiculous. It was stupid and it was racist. He felt like a cloud had been lifted from the surface of his brain. If this mystery-sender’s goal was to get him to concede to Asian supremacy, he had severely overreached with this last text — and so soon in the game. Clay chuckled silently. No, it was time to move on from this temporary distraction. He tuned back in as Mr. Weston began addressing the Free Silver movement. Clay left the classroom with a smile plastered to his face. Walking into the brightly lit hallway was like waking from a troubling dream. His spirits were so high and he was paying so little attention that he nearly collided with Hannah Baker.“Someone’s in a good mood,” Hannah commented as Clay’s smile grew even wider upon their encounter. He’d been so distracted these last few days he had barely thought about his crush. And now here she was before him, beautiful as ever. “What’s not to feel good about? It’s a beautiful day, we live in the most peaceful era of humanity’s history, the Depression of 1893 ended like, more than a hundred years ago! Life his good.” He made her giggle and suddenly he was over the moon.“Life is good,” she confirmed. “By the way, are you going to the basketball game tonight? Apparently they’re undefeated so far.”Clay snorted; he and Hannah had been friends for a few months now so she knew what he thought about the jocks at the school who thought they owned the place. “I wasn’t planning on it, no.” Wait, why was Hannah asking him? Shit, did she want to go? With him? Even after the fiasco that was the winter dance? He decided to just go for it. “Uhh…were you?” Smooth, Clay.“Well you know, I’d thought it be a good idea to keep up appearances. People start questioning my school spirit and then figure out my dark secret.”“What’s the secret?” Clay was legitimately confused.“That I’m a Russian spy,” Hannah deadpanned. “Obviously.” She was so weird. Clay loved it. “So what do you say, help me keep my cover?”“Go to the game…with you?” Clay just needed to be absolutely clear on this point.“Well, you, me and 500 of our closest friends.” They both looked around, laughing once realizing neither could even name a single person in the halls at this moment. “Ok, sure, I’ll probably be tried for treason, but why not? I’ll meet you outside the doors?”“Perfect, it’s a date.” Hannah smiled and walked off, leaving Clay a melting heap of goop. A date. Oh yes, things were definitely looking up for Clay Jensen. Even in just faded jeans and a sweatshirt, she looked stunning. She gave him smile and small wave when she saw him approaching and he stole himself for a moment, trying to calm his nerves as his heart pounded in his chest. Relax, he told himself. It’s just a basketball game.“Ready to get your cheer on for the…Lions?”“Tigers,” Clay laughed. She had to know it was Tigers after all these months. Right?She smiled back. “Let’s find seats.” The stands were a sea of navy blue, students chatting, laughing, and clapping at the cheerleaders’ pre-game show. It was so very…high school. So normal. Clay soaked it all in.They took their seats pretty high up in the stands, away from the die-hard fans and closer to those who were most likely here ironically. Below them, the cheerleading team was trying what looked to be a new routine — lots of flipping and twirling. Clay guessed it was impressive; he had little else to compare it too.He tried subtly glancing over at Hannah. She was watching the cheerleaders intently, almost as if she was trying to catch someone’s eye. When the routine was over, Clay got it. Jessica Davis, another sophomore, was beaming up to the crowd but when her eyes landed on Hannah’s she faltered. Clay watched the interaction, unsure what to do. Hannah gave a questioning smile and a tentative wave. Jessica looked as if she was trying to smile back — but it looked more like a grimace. She quickly turned away and joined the squad off the court.Clay said nothing as Hannah’s shoulder’s slumped slightly, trying not to look upset. He knew it hadn’t been easy for her these first few months at Liberty. Jessica had been one of her first friends but now she barely acknowledged Hannah in the halls. Clay wasn’t sure of the whole story — something to do with Jessica dating their other mutual friend, Alex Standall. That was over anyway, since Alex had written the now-infamous best/worst list and Jessica started dating Justin — who had humiliated Hannah by sending that picture on the rocket slide around. The drama was enough to make Clay’s head spin, and he didn’t know why Hannah would still be interested in being friends with Jessica. But he supposed she could use all the friends she could get right now. She wasn’t on speaking terms with Courtney after Courtney had started that rumor of Hannah and Laura together at the dance. Just as he was about to say something, anything that might make her feel better, the crowd exploded in cheers. The basketball team ran out of the locker room into the gymnasium, back-slapping and chest-bumping each other. Boos and hisses mixed in with the cheers as the opposing team rushed in — and then the game was on.Clay was never much into basketball, didn’t like the pacing, so instead he thought he’d do some people-watching. Across the court he could see Alex’s bleached-blond hair standing out like a sore thumb. He didn’t realize Alex was into sports, though maybe he was just here for Jessica. Right now, however, he looked to be paying pretty close attention to the game. Sitting nearby he saw Tony sitting with Ryan Shaver, editor of the “Lost and Found,” a school magazine. Since when had those two been friends? They were having some kind of conversation, Tony looking serious as usual, Ryan smiling broadly and playfully nudging into him. It was so nice Tony was so chill with a gay guy clearly flirting with him.Then, awkwardly running up and down the sidelines was Tyler Down, the yearbook photographer, trying to capture as many shots of the game and the crowd as possible. He was an odd kid, quiet, maybe a bit obsessive, but Clay tried to be friendly towards him and he was always genial towards Clay. While the game was going on below, Hannah and Clay made small talk. They talked about classes and how their parents were constantly on their cases about school and college. They talked about television and music. They didn’t talk about Jessica or Alex or Justin or Courtney. They didn’t talk about the winter dance.But as the game went on and they began running out of things to say, Clay began to pay more and more attention to the game. The Tigers were winning, unsurprisingly, but what was surprising to Clay at least was how they were winning.Zach Dempsey was dominating the court.With lay-up after dunk after three-point shots, Zach was running circles around the other boys. And then there was a familiar sinking feeling in hit gut as an unwanted thought intruded into his mind: He was running circles around the white boys especially. In his dribbling, in his pivoting and blocking, in his shots there was a pinpoint accuracy that gave Clay a strong sensation of vertigo. The crowd was whipping itself into a frenzy.“Wow, Zach is awesome,” Hannah said, and the admiration in her voice made Clay’s chest clench.“Uh yeah, he’s pretty good.” Clay desperately hope Hannah didn’t hear his voice crack.“Better than Justin anyway,” she said somewhat unkindly. It was true. Justin was not having a good game. He looked distracted and had missed some fairly easy shots so far. At that moment he had the ball and was being blocked by two larger opponents. Zach was behind him on the three-point line. “Throw it to Dempsey!” Coach Patrick yelled from the sideline. Justin looked back but then tried to smash his way forward, wildly tossing the ball upward, which didn’t make it near to the net, and the other team gained possession with a groan from the crowd. At the next chance he got, a pissed-off Coach Patrick benched his captain.“Maybe they should make Zach captain,” Hannah remarked cheerily.Clay could only offer a lame “Hmm.” There was once again a tightness in his throat and the gymnasium had suddenly become way too hot. He glanced over at Alex to see whether he was reveling in Justin’s downfall. His face was inscrutable. Meanwhile below, Tyler was flushed and looked breathless as he furiously snapped shots what looked now to be only of Zach. It was only the fact that he didn’t want to walk out on Hannah that he stayed glued to his seat for the rest of the game. When the final buzzer rang, the bleachers erupted in cheers of “DEMP-SEY, DEMP-SEY” and the team huddled around Zach, hugging and high-fiving him. Clay saw Justin slink off to the locker room. He knew the feeling — Clay just really needed to get out of there.“Hey, I was thinking maybe we could go to Rosie’s. Get a milkshake or something?” Hannah asked hopefully, but Clay could barely look her in the eyes.“Uhh I think I’m just gonna head home. Have a paper to write.” They pushed their way down the bleachers and Clay silently cursed how slow students were to leave the gym.“But it’s a Friday…”“I know but I should’ve started it sooner and it’s gonna be a pain to write. Raincheck?”“Sure, I guess.” Clay hated himself for the disappointment he heard in her voice, but he couldn’t be there, with her, with everyone raving about how flawlessly Zach performed. As soon as the way was clear, he shot Hannah a hasty goodbye and ran out of the school to his bike.Maybe he had been rash in dismissing the second text’s claims so out of hand. There was something in the way that Zach played tonight that was…masterful. It was as if Zach was just wired in a different way from the other players.A thought abruptly burst into his head about another athlete who was supposed to be “wired differently.” He recalled last summer watching the Rio Olympics with his parents, specifically the prime time men’s 100 metre butterfly. The race was supposed to be the conclusion to the epic rivalry of Clay’s hero Michael Phelps and South African swimmer Chad le Clos. Instead an upstart Singaporean, Joseph Schooling, a full decade Phelps’ junior, snatch the gold and Phelps, le Clos and Hungarian Laslo Cseh had a bizarre three-way tie for second.Clay could now recall vividly, olive-skinned Schooling beaming on the highest step of the podium as the three more-experienced white swimmers had to stand below him on the next tier listening patiently as the Singaporean national anthem played. Clay had felt so embarrassed while watching and he could again feel the shame of that night. Then an image that Clay could only think of as alien flashed before him. Schooling and Phelps were in some off-stage holding area standing face-to-face, Phelps almost a half-foot taller. Then slowly, Phelps drops to his knees before the younger smiling Asian and — “No!” Clay actually shouted. He looked around to make sure no one heard him. How could he picture something like that happening to his hero. He felt sick.But the memory of that race had brought up another from that Olympics. He unlocked his bike, hopped on, and raced home. Justin banged his fist against the lockers. What was wrong with him. He had by far his worst game of season. Was benched little more than half-way through. Him, the team’s captain — benched. He was the first junior captain in years; he and Zach had made varsity as sophomores and Coach thought having a captain that could serve for two years would give the team a sense of continuity. Plus Justin was well-liked and respected by the others. Now he knew Coach Patrick was wondering right now whether he’d made a mistake — whether he chose the wrong junior for captain.His head just wasn’t in the game. There had been that math test he tanked earlier in the week, and things at home with his mom and Seth had just been…bad. And then there was those fucking texts.It was bad enough just reading the garbage they said but then it was almost as if they were planned so that Justin would read them when they would have maximum impact. The first text came on the day he bombed that math exam and saw that Zach had aced it. And this last one had come on the day of the big game, totally getting in his head. Of course it hadn’t helped that Zach had played like a monster too. God, he just needed to get out of here.He went over to his locker and grabbed his stuff. He saw he had a text from Jessica: “Hey. Don’t worry about it. Coach Patrick was being a dick.” He had to smile. Least there was still one good thing in all this shit. Justin had only been dating Jessica for a few weeks now, but he knew she was good for him. Made him feel wanted and important. Course her text was complete bullshit — Coach had every right to bench him for his shitty performance. He sighed.After a beat, Justin could hear the the chants had now died down, could hear his other teammates laughter and whooping making its way closer to the locker room doors. He grabbed the rest of his belongings and made a beeline for the last exit. He could shower at home. He couldn’t share in the excitement of a victory he didn’t feel was his and really didn’t want to be face-to-face with any of them right now. Especially not Zach. Tyler got home out of breathe, raced past his parents asking how the game went with a quick, “Fine, we won,” and headed into his room, slamming the door behind him. He put his camera down and sat quietly on his bed, breathe still ragged, thinking.He didn’t know what had come over him at the game. He had taking shots of the action and the crowds when he noticed how well Zach Dempsey was playing — and then he was like a boy possessed. He just kept taking photo after photo of the muscular athlete. Jenna, the yearbook editor-in-chief was going to kill him. Well maybe he had enough good shots from the beginning of the game and just wouldn’t mention what had happened with the rest of the film.But beyond the wasted film, something else was now bothering him: He was incredibly, painfully hard. He shifted on his bed, wincing as a jolt of arousal spread from his groin, not daring to touch himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Sure, he had always been a pretty horny boy — hence the stalking and peeping-tom-ing of some of the girls in his class. He felt a burn of shame remembering how just a few weeks ago, Hannah Baker had caught him outside of her bedroom window. But now he was getting hard over Zach? He wasn’t gay. He never thought about guys in that way before. No. He was getting hard over the pure power and energy he had witnessed from Zach tonight. It was enough to get anyone excited.He briefly considered sneaking out with his camera again. Try to catch Zach in his home. Witness more masculine perfection. But Zach was probably out celebrating with friends. And anyway, if he caught him, Zach would likely beat the shit out of him. His dick jumped in his pants.He absent-mindedly pulled his phone from his pants pocket and reread that message he got earlier today: “Asian men are athletically superior.” Well after tonight’s performance, call him convinced. Tyler was initially unnerved by the stranger’s texts — thought it was some asshole trying to mess with him. He had ignored them.Now his curiosity was peaked and he couldn’t help but wonder when the next text would come. When Clay got home, his mother was reading some case briefs in the living room. “Home so soon?”“Uh yeah, the game just ended,” Clay said, panting.“Oh, I just thought you might’ve wanted to go out with friends after.” It was so typical for his mom to demand that he focus on schoolwork and then turn around and demand he have a thriving social life. He bit his tongue. “I was just really tired,” he lied weakly. “Long day, think I’m just gonna read a little and head to bed.“Alright, sweetie. Good night.” He got to his bedroom and closed the door as quietly behind him as possible, then went over to his computer and began searching.It was a warm summer day. Clay was heading out to kick around a soccer ball with Tony at the park. His mom was home sick from the office watching men’s diving — likely just an excuse to ogle fit guys in speedos. Yes, here it was. He found footage of the men’s synchronized 10m and as he watched he could feel goosebumps begin to cover his body. The Chinese divers Chen Aisen and Lin Yue were not only in the lead throughout, they were dominating their white competitors. Clay watched, mouth slightly opened as the duo nailed dive after dive, watched the other white competitors as they could only look on in awe and despair.The agility. The focus. The accuracy. He thought back to Zach’s commanding performance earlier and a thought dawned on him. Maybe the second text was just a corollary of the first. Maybe the Asians could dominate athletics because of their superior intellect. It made perfect sense. As sports were evolving to become more about strategy and skill than about brute force, Clay suspected we would see more Asians in positions of Athletic leadership. He could easily picture now a horde of hulking white men huddled around their sinewy Asian quarterback, hanging on his every word for the next brilliantly crafted play. When all was said and done in diving, the Chinese had crushed their American rivals by almost 40 points, thrashed the British by more than 50. Clay needed to see more. He watched the Japanese conquer men’s gymnastics, the Koreans prevail in archery. It was nearly 2 in the morning when he figured he had seen all the proof he needed.On a whim, before heading to bed he took a look at where the next few Games were to be held and was amused to find how unsurprised he was at the answer. Pyeongchang 2018. Tokyo 2020. Beijing 2022. Clay suspected the U.S. was about to see even more athletic greatness from the East in the years ahead. The future of sport really was Asian.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Clay spent the rest of the weekend watching youtube clips of Asian athletes. His parents thought he was writing a paper. It was strange, but he found that once the initial shock of Zach’s basketball performance had worn off, he was left with only a sense of awe. He wasn’t quite sure where these feelings came from but he just found their intense focus breathtaking. It was almost hypnotic.
Coming back to school on Monday, Clay didn’t feel as distracted as he did by the first text. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t a natural athlete to begin with so there wasn’t the same anxiety over having his pride hurt knowing others were better than him. He was more comfortable ceding athletic dominance to Asian men; who cares if assholes like Justin Foley and Bryce Walker had to grapple with the truth of their inferiority?
Once again he rationalized that just because he might acknowledge that Asians were naturally better at certain things, that didn’t mean his life had to change any — didn’t mean he should “submit.” The texts were silly, still most likely some pervy guy’s (or girl’s, Clay thought; some chicks were into guy-on-guy stuff) fantasy. But, Clay now thought, maybe there was something just slightly educational about the text, mixed in with the perversion.
He looked around the halls, realizing how few Asians he actually knew by name. He wouldn’t say he was friends with any of them, and somewhere deep in the back of his head, he sort of wished he was. Sort of wished he was close to at least one. Wanted to learn what their lives were like. It wasn’t until the middle of the week that the next text came. Clay woke up to it already on his phone, and sure, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. It still freaked him out that he was basically the victim of sexual harassment. But his reaction wasn’t nearly as strong as it was when he got that second text. And his curiosity — more urgent this time — outweighed the voice pleading in his head to ignore the text — to delete it without opening.
Instead he opened the messenger app on his phone to find this long message:
Back for more white boys? Of course you are. You’re beginning to see some truth to my messages, aren’t you?
Well I’ve got some more truth for you. Reason #3: White boys should submit to Asian men because Asia is on the rise.
Asia’s shining cities are growing faster than the West’s. Its technology is outpacing the West’s. Its economies and militaries are expanding at rapid pace. Soon Western society will be nothing more than a plaything in Asia’s backyard — existing only at the mercy of their Eastern overlords.
And the Asians who live in the West — they will serve as cultural ambassadors spreading the gospel of Asian supremacy. They’re the closest things white boys like you will get to the splendor of Asia. They will demand your respect and obedience. But you’re already on your way to understanding this, aren’t you, white boy?
Welcome to the Asian century.
Clay blinked at his screen a few times. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to read in the text, if he was expecting anything at all — but it definitely wasn’t this. This was…dark. A world dominated by Asia? Clay practically shuddered at the thought.
And anyway, it was ridiculous, wasn’t it? The U.S. had always dominated world affairs. That’s what he’d been taught in school after all. We had the dominant economy, the dominant military, the dominant culture.
‘Had being the operative word,’ a voice from the back of Clay’s head whispered. He recalled last summer when an annoying aunt had returned from a trip across Asia. She spoke so enthusiastically of the gleaming, towering skylines of Hong Kong and Shanghai, the sleek bullet trains that whisked her across Japan, the immaculate streets of Seoul. “And cranes everywhere,” she had said. “They just keep building more and more, up and up and up.”
At the time, Clay thought she was just bragging about her extended vacation, saw his mother roll her eyes when her sister wasn’t looking. Now he wondered exactly how much was truth and how much was exaggeration. He feared there was much more of the former than the latter.
His mother’s voice calling him for breakfast pushed him out of his reveries. He wouldn’t let this text drive him nuts again. He couldn’t keep going through this roller coaster of anxiety. So what if Asia was doing well for itself, was able to provide more for its people? Good for them. It wasn’t like it was a competition. A rising tide lifts all ships — an expression his dad liked to say. No, Asia’s supposed rise, if rising it was, didn’t have to concern Clay one bit.*************************************************************************** And sure, once he was back, walking the halls of his school, it was easy to tell himself he felt perfectly normal - wasn’t concerned by the text, wasn’t concerned about Asian men. But then somewhere deep in the crevices of his mind, he must’ve noticed how he slowed down when passing a group of dark-eyed Asians talking in hushed tones by their lockers. How he lingered, just for one brief moment - trying to catch a hint of what they were saying. What was it he hoped to hear? Some pearls of wisdom that he’d subconsciously come to expect were in their grasps. Or perhaps plotting - making plans for a new world that would soon be theirs.
No, no. Clay shoved the thought back down. None of that, not today, he thought as he tried to place the feeling that now made the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge. Fear? Anxiety? Exhilaration? In Introduction to Economics - an elective Clay took at the behest of his mother - they were talking about how national GDP was calculated. Projected onto the screen at the front of the class was a ranking of countries with the highest GDPs. Clay was relieved to see the U.S. on top. He could relax as Mr. Wilson droned on about Pareto efficiency. Or at least he thought he could until…
“Yes, Mr. Standall?”
Clay turned back to look at the slight blond boy sitting in the back of the class as his hand went down. Alex rarely spoke up in class; Clay didn’t think he’d heard the boy speak once since the whole drama with Jessica.
“So the U.S. has the largest GDP but China’s economy is growing faster?” Clay’s heart jumped in his throat. What was Alex playing at? Why now?
“That’s correct, Alex. China’s economy has been growing steadily at a rate around 7% annually, while the U.S.’s growth has been closer to 2%.”
“So eventually, China’s economy will be bigger than ours?”
“Well who knows what the future will bring, but if things keep going the way they are, then yes, China’s economy will soon eclipse our own. In fact,” Mr. Wilson grew more animated now as Clay sunk further into his seat, “I’m glad you brought that up because under some measurements, China is already ahead.” He quickly switched out the current rankings he had projected with one showing China on top. “This is GDP PPP, which stands for purchasing power parity, and what this shows is GDP adjusted by the purchasing power of the nation’s currency, or how much an equal amount of currency can purchase in each country respectively. A lot of economist think this is a more useful measure of a nation’s wealth.” He went on for a bit more about purchasing power, and then asked Alex whether he had anymore questions.
“No, thanks. Sounds like pretty soon, we’ll all be speaking Mandarin.” There was something in his voice, a certain meanness, but whatever it was seemed to be lost on Mr. Wilson who just chuckled.
“Well, I certainly don’t think it’s a bad idea to start learning. Could come in handy.” And with that he continued with his lesson. The list with China on top stayed on the projection screen for the rest of the class. Clay left the classroom once again in a daze. It was like the universe was intent on shoving proof of Asian superiority in his face, exactly as these texts had said. Or was it just that he was noticing these truths more now? It didn’t matter. Clay knew at this point how this would play out: He’d go home to his computer, ostensibly to try to find evidence to refute the text’s perverse claims, only to find yet more confirmation of its fundamental truth. He’d go to bed demoralized and wake up in the morning feeling slightly better, having suppressed the feelings of inferiority during the night. But he was beginning to wonder how much longer things could continue this way.************************************************************************************** Later that day, Alex got home after school, went up to his room and slammed the door. He felt so angry all the time now. He had lost so much in these past few months all because of that stupid best/worst list and now all he had was Bryce Walker and his dumbass gang of friends. Even things at home were going south. His dad was practically never around and then when he was, he was constantly on Alex’s case about his grades, his extracurriculars, his love-life, or whatever else he could think of to criticize his youngest son. And the comparisons with his older brother, Peter, were endless. He was tired of hearing about how many sports Peter excelled in or how many girls he got. Could his dad for one second focus on him when he was so obviously depressed?
And so that’s why he now found the semi-weekly texts he got from this mystery stranger to be somewhat of a reprieve from the painful monotony of his life. When he first received them he figured it was someone trying to play a sick joke on him, kick him when he was down. But now he almost enjoyed getting them. His dad, brother, and pretty much everyone else around him were all such macho, patriotic men. And truth be told, his dad was not the most racially sensitive guy. The idea of white guys submitting to Asian men would drive him absolutely crazy. So it was with that in mind when he asked Mr. Wilson those questions about China earlier. He knew his dad would have a conniption if he heard Alex talking like that, and even if his dad would never find out, it felt like a small victory to take his country - and indirectly, his race - down a peg. And who knew? Perhaps someone else in the class was receiving these texts as well and would get his deeper intent.
He was tempted to write back to the mystery messenger to see who else he was targeting, just so he could fuck with them to make himself feel, if in one fleeting moment, powerful.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Clay sat at his desk in his room thinking about what he would write for the paper Mr. Weston had assigned. It was supposed to be an in-depth essay on one aspect of post-Civil War nineteenth century America. It was a maddeningly broad topic meant to close out the unit before the class turned to the Progressive Era, and Clay struggled to think of an issue that was most likely to impress and least likely to be taken by someone else. Mr. Weston had already given them ideas: Reconstruction politics, northern migration of freed slaves, technological advances like the transcontinental railroad. Clay couldn’t help but to roll his eyes over the last one. Ever since getting the third text about a week ago, he was developing a deep skepticism over the achievements of America and the West. Whatever we were able to do - in thoughts that Clay tried but failed to suppress - some Asian country was probably doing it better and more efficiently.Clay was flipping through his textbook for some ideas when his eyes shot to the screen of his cell phone laying to the right of him and felt goosebumps cover his body before his brain could process why. But the reason soon became apparent: It was a text from an unknown number and Clay knew who it had to be from. Not wanting to delay the inevitable, Clay snatched the phone up and opened the message.
Your training’s coming along nicely white boys. I know some of you refuse to believe that, but I’ve noticed the cracks beginning to appear in your fragile psyches.
Without further ado, Reason #4:
White boys should submit to Asian Men to atone for the white race’s sins.
Throughout history, white boys pretending to be men have raped, pillaged and stole their way to power and once in power have led the world towards violence and chaos, all the while using their numbers to subjugate and oppress non-whites in order to hide the truth of their own inferiority.
Well it’s time to stop hiding. White boys need to submit to Asian Men because they deserve to be punished for their brutal histories.
Repent, white boys.
Clay felt his face grow hot and his stomach drop as he read the message. Truth be told, he was kind of expecting one of the reasons to focus on white guilt, what with the Black Lives Matter movement and college protests on racism around the country. And sure, Clay was reasonable, or at the very least not blind to history. He could admit that white America had mistreated minorities and that colonialism and slavery and systemic racism were all wrong and should be consigned to the past. But the solution for racism was to not be a racist - not bowing down to another race.And anyway, why Asians? If anything, whites had surely mistreated Africans the worst. While he was sure Asians and Asian-Americans faced their share of discrimination, surely it wasn’t comparable to slavery and Jim Crow. In fact Clay wasn’t really sure what hardships Asians in America had faced historically. He supposed he never really thought about it. Then it hit him. He’d right about American-Asian relations for his history paper. Surely no one else was going to write about that and Mr. Weston would be impressed with his originality. And at the same time, he could assuage his curiosity spurred on by the text.He set out to work.***Justin was so glad to get out of town and away from Liberty High. Things at home were awful, his grades weren’t getting better, his relationship with Jessica was in a perpetual state of rockiness, and his performance on the basketball court was still lacking.And so he was especially relieved to step foot onto the bucolic campus of Riverdale College and breath in the fresh air. He was here to tour the school and was staying with a friend, Josh, who just graduated Liberty High last year and was now a freshman on the basketball team at R.C. The college had a pretty good basketball program, and, if Justin was being honest with himself, was probably one of the better ones that would still consider giving him a scholarship after his lousy performance this year. Josh had taken him around to see the recently renovated team facilities and meet with a couple of guys on the team and two of the assistant coaches, who seemed enthusiastic enough and ensured him that they’d have their scouts look out for him.Things were looking up, Justin thought to himself as he and Josh drank milkshakes in a popular diner near campus, while the freshman regaled him of the college parties he’d gone too, and the college girl’s he’d gotten lucky with - although Justin remembered how much the older boy could exaggerate. Just as Josh was getting into the drunken details of a recent escapade, the two boys heard yelling from down the street. Stretching his head to look out the window, Justin saw a crowd of protestors marching down the street towards the diner. As they drew closer, Justin could begin to make out what the crowd was saying: slogans like “Hands up, don’t shoot,” and “No justice, No peace.”“Ah yea, Black Lives Matter protestors. They do this every week,” started Josh. “But they’re harmless. They yell themselves tired, then go home.”The crowd consisted mainly of black and latino students, but there were a few whites in the crowd as well. Just as they began to pass directly in front of the diner, Justin saw something which made him do a double take. In the crowd were three boys, shirtless despite the fact that it must have been in the low 40s outside. The shortest and skinniest of the boys had lily white skin and a crop of raven black hair sticking out from a knitted crowned beanie. The second taller boy had dark brown hair meticulously slicked back in a side part. The two boys weren’t shouting along but instead had somewhat vacant smiles plastered on their faces and were holding signs that read “End White Supremacy” and “Whites Pay Reparations Now.” Still more striking however was the third boy in the middle, who was one of the most ripped guys Justin had ever seen. He had an astoundingly handsome face with a strong, square jawline and a shock of perfectly coiffed red hair. He wasn’t holding a sign and Justin realized that his muscles were bulging because perched on top of his shoulders was another boy - nearly as big as the redhead beneath him. This boy, no - man, Justin subconsciously corrected himself, was fully dressed and seemed to be enjoying the ride. Even from a distance, Justin could make out the distinctively sharp Asian features of the man atop the ginger. His smooth, chiseled face smirked out above the crowd while the white boy beneath him struggled the maintain the weight of his friend, who looked to be nearly just as muscular in his own right. The ginger’s body glistened with a thin coat of sweat though all the while a grimacing smile never left his face. Justin thought he felt something within him stir just below his stomach.Then for the briefest of moments, the eyes of the Asian man caught Justin’s through the diner window. They were black as coal, and as if the glare had burned him, Justin tore his eyes away. Josh was giving him a strange look and had a slight blush on his face. Softly, almost embarrassedly he said, “Yeah, college changes some people.”Yeah, college, Justin thought, as Josh quickly changed the subject back to his sexual conquests. But for the rest of their outing, Justin couldn’t focus on anything his friend said, thinking back to the boys surrounding their elevated Asian friend, and the text from a stranger unwantingly received earlier that morning.***Alex found himself back in his room, door slammed shut. He had just had another fight with his dad and brother - this time over the president. “I just think he’s right about keeping refugees out. We have no idea who these people are whether or not they want to harm us. Look what’s happening in Europe!” his dad had said. “Or put them in camps until we figure out who they really are,” his brother, Peter, chimed in. Worked during World War II with the Japanese.”
Had Alex not left the table that instant, he would have been screaming about how they’d like it if they were ripped from their homes and locked away for no reason. Now he almost wished it would happen to them, but instead of camps, they’d be put in cages, barely large enough to stand in - guarded over by a descendant of a Japanese family who faced the humiliation of the internment camps. As he pictured this, he felt a raw energy surge in his chest. Soon they’d pay, he thought bitterly and conspiratorially. Soon they’d all pay.***Tyler was furiously masturbating in his room. He had just come back from a medical physical. His physician, Dr. Hong, was a handsome young Asian man, and it was all Tyler could do not to pop a boner while the doctor listened through his stethoscope to Tyler’s racing heartbeat and ragged breathing. Then when he asked Tyler to stand and lower his pants, the boy had turned bright red. Though he had begun to chub up, his small penis was still only about an inch long. He could see Dr. Hong suppress a laugh as he told him to turn his head and cough.In that moment, the humiliation made his dick shrink to its fully flaccid form, but now in the privacy of his bedroom, he had never felt hornier. Gone were his inhibitions over jerking off to a man. Maybe he was gay, or maybe he was just so turned on over being humiliated in front of a big, strong asian man. Oh yes, punish me, Tyler thought, picturing Dr. Hong pulling the boy up over his lap for a spanking. Punish me for being the weak, white wimp I am.*** Two days later, Clay beamed at his computer screen, finally having finished his paper. It was he believed, the best essay he’d ever written. He was even proud of the title: “Sinophobia in Late Nineteenth Century America.” Who knew just how terribly the Chinese immigrants had been treated? From the fatally harsh conditions working on the transcontinental railroad (of course that’s how the U.S. had pulled it off), to the grotesquely discriminatory Chinese Exclusion Act.He pressed print on what he thought for sure would be an ‘A’ paper, and decided he had time to reward himself before bed. So, glancing behind him to make sure the door was firmly shut tight, he opened the web browser and turned to his favorite porn site. What to watch? He scanned through the categories and then, pausing only for a moment, clicked the “Asian” link. But this brought him mainly to videos of white guys fucking Asian chicks, and for some reason he didn’t quite understand yet, it just completely put him off. Instead he decided to click in to the search bar at the top of the browser and type, “Asian man, white woman porn.” And then he pretended to himself that he was getting so turned on by the slutty white chick’s moans and not from the sinewy, olive toned physique and cocky mien of the Asian man above her.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It had been several days since Clay had turned in his paper, and all in all he was feeling pretty good. Perhaps it was his reintroduction to porn - his wastepaper basket was once again overflowing with crumpled-up tissues as he would jack off often multiple times a day watching muscular Asian men fuck skinny white girls, who seemed to love it - but of course they would; they were porn stars. Something about the contrast in skin tone enraptured Clay.And then at school, Clay noticed subtle changes within himself. He would go just a tad out of his way to hold the door open for an Asian student, or quickly move out of the way when crossing paths with one in the hall, bowing his head ever so slightly. Not so much that anyone would notice anything out of the ordinary, but for some reason it felt good to Clay. It felt good to be respectful to those Clay now knew had struggled to belong in this country, and struggled largely against Clay’s ancestors and their ilk. So maybe the text weren’t so bad after all. Sure they were sick and perverted, and no, Clay had no intention of “serving Asian Men.” But they were, in a way, educational. They peaked Clay’s curiosity for another culture and peoples and he was beginning to have a newfound appreciation for the Asian race. What was wrong with that?After history class, Mr. Weston pulled him aside. “Clay, I finished grading your paper earlier this morning, and I just wanted to say how wonderful I found it. Such an interesting topic and you went so deeply into it. I’m even thinking of assigning it as reading for next year’s class.”Clay felt himself turning red and tried not to look so pleased with himself. “Wow, Mr. Weston. Thanks so much! I really enjoyed writing it.” It was the truth, after all.“Well I know it’s still early for sophomores to think about these kind of things, but if you ever need a recommendation for college or whatever, I’d be happy to write one for you. You’ve been a terrific student.”“Thanks so much Mr. Weston,” Clay repeated. “I’ve been thinking that I probably want to study history in college,” and then after a beat, “and East Asian studies.” At that. Mr. Weston gave him a look of mild surprise. Clay too had surprised himself - he hadn’t given thought to pursuing his new fascination with the Asian race and culture in a more formal setting - but now that he had said it aloud, it seemed a perfectly sensible option.For what it was worth, Mr. Weston agreed, “Well I’m impressed you’ve already put some thought into this. That could end up becoming quite useful in the future.”**Learning of his success on the paper, Clay was feeling ebullient on his way to Communications class. Walking into the classroom, he beamed a smile at Hannah and took his seat waiting for Ms. Bradley to begin whatever silly exercise she had thought up for the day’s lesson.Then he felt the buzz in his pocket. Even though class hadn’t really started yet, he surreptitiously dug the phone out of his jeans to see who had texted him. Unknown number, which could only mean one person. Did he really want to kill his good vibe now? But then he knew if he didn’t read now, it would just keep nagging him throughout the whole class. Best to bite the bullet. So from under his desk he read:
“Becoming addicted to these texts, aren’t you, white boys?
I’ll cut to the chase.
Reason # 5:
White boys should submit to Asian Men because their women are turning to Asian Men. Every day more and more white women discover the pleasures of taking an Asian lover - how much more satisfying and virile they are than their limp dick, white boy husbands and boyfriends.
Soon there’ll be no women left for the white boy, so he might as well join his woman in worshiping the Asian Man.
You’re obsolete, white boy. Submit.”
Clay once again felt his face turning red, and tried to calm his now racing heart before anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary. Just ignore it, he thought, as Ms. Bradley finally began the class.But of course, he couldn’t focus on anything else. Those other texts - sure they had been bad enough. But they hadn’t seemed as…personal as this latest assailment. Yes, maybe he wasn’t a lady’s man, but there were some white boys - some white men, he corrected himself - who were. Justin was dating Jessica and had something going on with Hannah right when she moved into town, though of course, that ended in disaster. And then there was Bryce Walker who never seemed to lack for…female company. If the rumors were true, anyway.And Clay could maybe, someday, possibly ask Hannah out. Valentine’s Day was coming up and Jeff had been bugging him to find himself a date. He could ask her out if only to prove to himself the ludicrousness of this text.He winced as he heard Hannah chuckle at a joke Zach had made at the expense of that idiot boy Pratters.When class ended, he packed up his things and turned to talk to Hannah but the girl had already headed over to check her compliment bag. He lingered for a moment just to see her reaction to the bunny drawing he had left there for her. And then Zach walked up. Clay couldn’t exactly pick up what they were saying but, well, this was Communications class - anyone could pick up the body language signs revealing these two were hard core flirting with each other - the smiles, the giggling. Clay started to feel queasy. How could this be happening, right now? On the one hand, it wasn’t a complete shock. No one needed to tell Clay that Hannah was pretty, and everyone knew Zach was one of the most popular guys in school. Why shouldn’t they like each other? But Zach could have any girl in the school. Why pick the girl Clay had his eyes on since the summer? Why now, after this damn text? Clay slinked away before either noticed him lurking.**Valentine’s day was finally here, and Clay still hadn’t gotten up the nerve to ask Hannah out - even though she was his top match on Dollar Valentines. As he stood against the candy counter in the Cressmont, nervously doodling while Hannah stood mere feet away, he knew this would be his last chance to ask - that is, if she didn’t already have a date. If only he could find out whether he was on her list too.“Yo, Picasso.” Clay turned around. Even in her maroon vest and bow tie she was so pretty. “You resting up for a big date tonight, or something?”Yea, with you. Come on Clay, just grow some balls and say it.“Me? No.” God, he was a loser.“What about Dollar Valentine?”
Funny you should ask, Hannah, my sweet. You were actually on the top of my list.
“I, umm, I didn’t really do it.” He really was an idiot, but since she didn’t call him out on his lie, he had his answer - he wasn’t on Hannah’s list. “What uhh,” Clay tried to sound casual. “What about you? Did you…?”“Yep, well uh…you know my motto: No cheerleader left behind.” He forced a laugh. He knew he had to ask.“Get any good matches?” Please God in heaven, if you exist, please let her not have matched with Zach.“Not one.” Clay’s body deflated in relief. Then she scoffed, “I got Bryce Walker.”He had to scoff back. “Holy shit, really? Either you made a serious error in the ‘who I’m looking for’ section, or that algorithm is messed up.” Yes, he realized he was hoping either was to case, to explain why they weren’t matched, even though he knew it was just a stupid gimmick.She laughed. “Probably both. I’m always looking for the wrong person.”Look HERE! I’m right here and I’m the right person! But maybe he gave himself too much credit. Maybe - and now it was a voice in his head that he had tried to keep buried - maybe, he knew deep down that he didn’t deserve Hannah. That she was better off with someone like Zach.“You know I did get a call from Marcus Cole though. He said I was on his list.”Clay’s heart half sunk. Marcus Cole? Well at least he wasn’t Asian so that was…something?“Are you gonna go out with him?” Clay tried to keep the panic from his voice.“Well he’s not my first choice…” She’s giving you an opening! Go for it! But he froze. He always froze. And then Jeff came in with his date and ruined everything by letting slip that Clay did in fact do a Dollar Valentine. Hannah was hurt that he had lied to her and went off to call Marcus to tell him the date was on. And that was that. Happy Valentine’s Day to Clay.**Or it would’ve been, but Tony walked into the Cressmont 10 minutes before Clays shift was ending. “What a way to spend Valentine’s Day,” the shorter boy commiserated. “Watching couples come to see the latest awful rom-com while you serve them candy and soda. Hope you at least have plans for later.”“Got a real hot date with my right hand tonight.” It was crude - Clay didn’t talk about such things, but what the hell, he was angry with himself for blowing it so badly.Tony raised an eyebrow for a second, but, hearing the pain in Clay’s voice, continued: “Come on, why don’t you and I do something. I’ve got nothing planned either. We could go to Rosie’s and get some milk shakes and laugh at all the dumb couples who couldn't find a place better to go than a diner. Say a big ‘fuck you’ to this stupid, made up holiday.”Tony waited for Clay'd shift to end and then they drove off in his truck. Along the way, the floodgates opened and Clay ended up telling him about his major fuck-up with Hannah. All the while, Tony listened without saying much. They didn’t typically talk about girls, Tony always seemed to change the subject, but Clay was glad he was listening now. He didn’t need anyone giving him advice. He knew he was being a pussy, knew he needed to man up. He just wanted someone to talk to right now, and there was no better person than Tony.They pulled up into the diner’s parking lot and Tony found a spot up front. Just as Clay was undoing his seat belt, he heard Tony whisper, “Oh shit.”“What? Forgot cash? Don’t worry, I’ll cover you.”“No, it’s not that,” he said demurely. Apologetically. “Hannah’s here.”Clays head shot up to the windows, scanning to see her. “With Marcus? Crap. Where?” He felt like a glutton for pain.“Uh, she’s not with Marcus. It looks like…Zach Dempsey.”Clay felt his head go blank and his breathing stop. He spotted them. From where Clay sat, Hannah’s face was partially obscured by the window frame, but there was no doubt it was her. And there was no doubt that across from her was Zach Dempsey who was just now reaching out to grasp her hand. Clay looked away. He couldn’t deal with this right now.“I’m sorry, Clay,” Tony started quickly, “I didn’t know—” “Just. Take me home. Please.” He was defeated. He knew it, and now Tony knew it. They drove off in silence.**Tony tried to apologize again as Clay got out of the car. Clay by now had the good graces to tell him not to worry about it - that it wasn’t his fault. The two friends left each other with awkward good-byes.Clay entered the house and raced straight up the stairs. He was near tears and in no way did he want to talk with either of his parents right now. He got to his room and quietly shut the door so as to not notify the folks of his arrival home, and went to his computer desk. He took a few deep breaths and half-heartedly tried to stop doing what he was about to do. He got the idea in Tony’s car on the way back, and while it was perverse, he couldn’t get it out of his head.He started searching on his browser, and after a few minutes got what looked to be a promising link: “Asian guy CUCKS White guy AMWF.” He hesitated only a moment, then clicked the link, and unbuttoned his pants.And while tears pricked his eyes, he was still incredibly hard over what was maybe the hottest porn he’d seen so far: an arrogant white guy with a Stanford hoodie forced to watch as the hot Asian pool boy took his slutty girlfriend right in front of him. Clay blew his loads in minutes, and then, panting, he crawled into bed and started to sob.**It was two days after Valentine’s and Justin was frantically trying to reach Jessica. He felt like a psychopath; he must’ve left three voicemails on her phone and a dozen text messages. Why wasn’t she answering!?Well, Justin could take a wild guess. Valentine’s day had been more or less a train wreck. Dinner had been fine enough, but then Jessica was feeling frisky and wanted to fool around for the first time since they started dating. Who was Justin to say no? So they left for Justin’s apartment but once there, the boy realized he’d made a terrible mistake. His mom had chosen today of all days to go through one of her withdrawals and Justin turned red and muttered an apology as the two sneaked in and could immediately hear the moaning.Justin dragged Jessica to his room, thinking that it would be fine once he could shut the door behind them, so long as they were quiet. But he could still hear his sick mother's cries. When the two started making out on his bed, he desperately tried to get hard for her, but was too anxious and distracted. He slapped her hand away when she went to put it down his pants and told her it wasn’t going to work out tonight and she should just leave - which she did in a huff.They hadn’t spoken since that night and now Justin was worried they were over. He just needed to talk with her, but where the fuck was she? He just had come from her house where her militant father, looking as disapprovingly as ever, told him she was out with friends. When he asked, in perhaps not the politest of tones, “Which friends?” he got the door unceremoniously slammed in his face. Great.He walked down to the sidewalk, not knowing which way to turn, when finally a text popped up on his phone. “At Zach’s. Chill.”Perhaps the dad, feeling sorry for him, had texted his daughter telling her to text the poor boy. Well, whatever. What the fuck was she doing at Zach’s? He sure as shit was going to find out. He raced over a few blocks and was about to approach the large, stately house when he saw the front door begin to crack open. He dived behind a hedge.It was Jessica alright. She looked…well, sort of dazed. She had a vacant smile on her face as she stepped out into the sunlight. Almost as if…
No fucking way, Justin thought, blood pressure spiking. But the way she was walking, taking one gingerly step after the other, wincing from the apparent soreness - there was no other explanation. The two had fucked. An Asian man had fucked his woman. Just like the text said one would. He was too paralyzed with rage and embarrassment to call out - to confront her. Instead, she walked down the street in the opposite direction, and he, after a few moments trying to decide whether he would defend his manhood by pounding down Zach’s door and beating the shit out of him - as if he could, he thought bitterly - instead turned, tail between his legs and walked towards home. Halfway there, he felt the tears rush down his face.**That night, Clay had a dream. It was, to his initial subconscious delight, a sexy dream. But as the image began to materialize in his inner eye, he felt something was amiss.There was Hannah in a total state of undress, moaning in ecstasy. But he somehow felt…removed from her pleasure. As more came into focus, he began to realize why. Hannah was in a reverse cowgirl position, bouncing herself up and down on a cock that Clay now realized wasn’t his. Her face was scrunched up in pleasure as the hair that wasn’t plastered to her face from exertion bounced all around her. The body beneath her, Clay could see now was larger than his own - more muscular. As his line of sight traveled upward towards the head of the bed, he could make out the rest of the large figure. A calm, chiseled face in contrast to the ecstasy on Hannah’s. And raven jet hair.Zach was fucking Hannah, and Hannah was incoherent with lust.Suddenly the whole scene lay open before him. Hannah furiously fucking herself on Zach’s cock, but there in the corner, naked as they day he was born, sat Clay gazing upwards towards the two lovers, mouth agape, furiously beating his own meat.A moment latter, the vision focused in on Zach’s face and Clay could tell he was looking directly at the corner where Clay had sat masturbating. His dark eyes were seared into Clay’s dream mind as he half-snarled, half-sneered:
"Your turn next, white boy.”Clay shot up from his bed, with a feeling of electricity flowing through him for a brief moment. He sat there in dark for perhaps a minute, catching his breath, feeling the coolness from sweat drying on his skin.He shifted slightly and grimaced at another sensation of moisture, this time beneath the covers.He had had a wet dream.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Clay was dreaming again.He dreamt he was a baby. Or at least that’s what it felt like. He didn’t exactly feel smaller, but he knew he was being held in the arms of someone much larger than him - his mother maybe.He also couldn’t move at all. Looking down he could see himself swaddled in a red blanket of some sort. A red blanket with yellow stars. It was wrapped around him so tightly, and yet he didn’t mind. It felt so incredibly comfortable against his bare skin.From above, this mother figure brought a bottle of milk to his lips, and he instinctively took the yellow nipple in his mouth. He could feel the thick, warm liquid coat his tongue and throat as he sucked on the bottle as if he hadn’t had a drink in days. It didn’t exactly taste like milk or have the same consistency, but it was somehow familiar. It reminded him of his bedroom. As he kept drinking, he felt wave after wave of pleasurable warmth filling his entire body. Whatever this milk was, he never wanted to stop drinking, and though he could feel his body bloating as he took an impossible amount of liquid into his body, he felt as though he could drink forever and never get full. He closed his eyes against the surging joy he felt within.Now though as he was sucking, he could feel the nipple begin to twitch and grow in his mouth. And as it grew, more and more of the liquid cascaded down his throat. Clay did his best to swallow every drop, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. He felt his jaw widen as the nipple began to snake its way past his tongue and into his throat. Suddenly he was no longer being cradled in someone’s arms but on his knees still sucking down on the gushing bottle nipple, though he wasn’t quite sure it was a baby bottle any longer.He opened his eyes only to see a wall of tan flesh not an inch from his face. The nipple - it couldn’t be what he feared it was - was jammed halfway down his throat. He couldn’t breath. He looked upward to see the dark black eyes and smirking face of Zach Dempsey peering down at him.Clay awoke choking and sputtering, gasping for air. He quickly tried to calm himself down so as to not wake his parents. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a light from his cellphone blinking on his night stand; he had gotten a text sometime in the middle of the night. As he shifted over to reach for the phone he felt that now-familiar slickness emanating from his groin. he winced as he realized he had had another wet dream.When he opened his phone, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. There, staring back at him was an a photo of the an enormous, angry-looking, erect dick set against golden-brown abs. Clay’s mind was racing as he saw there was a text message right above the photo.
Reason #6:
You know that thing about Asian Men having small cocks? It’s a lie told by white boys to mask the truth of their own tiny penises. Asian Men are sexually superior.
Clay could only gape in awe at the evidence in front of him. The dick - no, cock, that seemed to be the only appropriate word for it - had to be at least 8 inches and was incredibly thick too. Clay didn’t know they could be that big; the straight porn he watched always did a careful job of hiding the male stars’ appendages. He reached down to his own member, now wilted after its nocturnal emission, and felt a surprising sense of revulsion. He realized in that moment that he had always harbored some aversion for his own dick - it had always seemed to him kind of ugly and, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, small. He figured he’d be equally turned off by all dicks, as any red-blooded straight boy should, but now seeing this - it was magnificent. There was no other way to put it. He now understood that some cocks at least - Asian cocks - could be beautiful.** Across town, the other white boy victims were slowly waking up and checking their phones to find the not-so-little surprise in their text inboxes. Their respective reactions couldn’t have been different.Alex merely smirked, thinking about how this Asian cock would put many of the white boys, who boasted of their size and sexual prowess in the locker room, to shame. He got a warm feeling inside thinking that it was probably bigger than his dad’s, and how that fact would fuck with his head and sense of masculinity if he knew.** Justin could feel tears of anger welling up in his eyes. Why the fuck was this person doing this to him? He was a kid for fuck's sake! He thought for the first time about taking this to a school administrator or the cops and then realized how much of a pussy he’d have to be to get so perturbed by a dick pic. Why was he so bothered by it? Sure it was bigger than his. Much bigger, he thought bitterly. And it was bigger than.... Well, he didn't want to think about that now; he hated that these texts were dredging up those fucked up memories. But more than anything, it was the constant drubbing of humiliation; these texts seemed perfectly timed to add insult to injury with every failure going on in his life. And this so soon after he found out his girlfriend was cheating on him with one of his best friends. His Asian friend. He still hadn’t spoken to Jessica yet. Hadn’t spoken to Zach either. He didn’t know what he would even say when he did. He wanted to kick the shit out of him, but knew Zach could easily overpower him if he tried. He just felt so helpless. Everything was spiraling out of control and this texting pervert was rubbing his nose in it.** Tyler, whose tiny dick was already erect from morning wood, immediately starting jacking off as his mind temporarily went blank. He brought the screen of the phone to his mouth and started frantically licking the glass like a frenzied dog as if trying to break through to the succulent piece of Asian meat on the other side.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Clay was finding it difficult to concentrate these days. The dick pic - cock pic - on his phone felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket everywhere he went. He couldn’t just delete it of course. That would make too much sense. Sometimes he would open it just to look at it - memorize every detail, every curve. At first he would wait until he was in the privacy of his own room, then pull it up for no more than a few seconds, before hastily throwing his phone to his bed like it had burned him and try to go back about his business. But after a few days, he would pull it up at school when no one was around. He’d stare at it for longer periods. It became like some sort of game. He’d open the pic in more and more inappropriate places for more and more time. In the halls, in math class. It was almost thrilling to think he could be caught.And it wasn’t just the picture on his phone either. More than once, Clay found himself glimpsing down at the crotch region of some Asian dude, trying to catch a hint of a bulge. More than once, the Asian student would catch him peeking. Some of them furrowed their brows wondering what the hell Clay was doing; others, Clay swore, would give him a knowing smirk as they passed him by, leaving Clay a blushing red mess as he quickly averted his eyes. But soon, even that became a game: seeing how long he could stare before being caught - wanting to be caught. Wanting these Asian men - er, students - to know…something.But yet despite what was becoming a near obsession with Asian cock, it didn’t feel sexual to Clay. It was like an academic fascination. Like how he felt learning cool fact in history but a hundred times more exciting. Clay knew he still wasn’t gay. The faces attached to the bulges he stared at were handsome - he’d have to admit that. But he didn’t feel the same way about them the way he felt about, say, Hannah, or the other girls he had had crushes on. Funny though, he barely thought about Hannah these days at all. ****The last period of the day was gym class. Clay was quietly grateful for this as it meant he didn’t have to shower in the boys’ locker room and could just go straight home afterward. That was especially important these days, what with Clay’s ever spiraling self-body-image.It was the first day that was warm enough where the class could go outside, and Coach Patrick - perhaps taken by surprise by the good weather, perhaps just lacking the creativity or wherewithal to care about anything but the basketball team - had them run the mile around the track. As Clay panted his way around, he could see out of the corner of his eye, some varsity athletes, exempt from regular gym class, shooting hoops on the court adjacent to the track. He saw Justin Foley miss an easy shot, and Zach Dempsey get the rebound.After a not-completely-embarassing 8 minutes and 45 seconds, Clay, chest burning, finished the mile and waited, slightly keeled over, for the rest of the class to finish. Once Tyler Down crossed the finish line at 12 minutes 5 seconds - to the snickering of several others - the class was able to head back in and change. Clay wanted to get in and out of the locker room as soon as possible - avoiding any more awkwardness than was absolutely necessary. Today though, fate would have other plans.Several of the boys from the basketball court were already in the locker room by the time Clay and the rest of the class got there. Justin was already by his locker, across from Clay’s, sitting on the bench, wrapped in a towel and staring miserably at his phone. Alex walked up to his locker across the way, along with Tyler, still breathing heavily and covered in sweat.And then a buzz came from his locker. Only it sounded like it came from others as well. He glanced around as Alex and Tyler jumped up to unlock their lockers. What were the odds, they had all received texts from different persons all at the same time? Clay opened his locker, grabbed the phone close to him and saw the text from the unknown number. He knew he should have waited to open it once he was in the privacy of his own home; it could have been another dick pic or something even more shocking and who knows how he’d react. But that sense of perverse foreboding took hold, and stealing a sideways glance to ensure the coast was clear - he needn’t have worried, the others were already glued to the screens of their own phones - Clay opened the text.“Reason #7:I know you’ve been staring at that cock I sent you, white boy. Bet you're wondering about the body it’s attached to. Of course you are, because you know it must be utter perfection. You’re right. White boys’ bodies can’t compare to the superior Asian male physique. Bronzed, smooth, sinewy. Perfection. You know it’s true. Just look up.”Clay furrowed his brow, confused. There was no picture. A dull pang of disappointment stabbed at Clay’s mind for just a second. The text told him to look up, though. At what?A locker slammed a few rows ahead of him, and Clay looked up and down the aisle. His mouth fell open.Strutting down towards him was Zach Dempsey completely in the nude. He was everything the text said and more. His muscles throbbed slightly in his post-workout state and shifted ever so slightly as he walked - like the back-and-forth of the ocean’s tide - synchronized perfection. His golden skin glowed with a hint of dampness from the scrimmage. And then below, there it was. Beneath a tidy mat of dense public hair, Zach’s cock swung freely down and side-to-side a full six inches, completely soft and thick as bratwurst. Clay knew instantly it was the cock from the previous text. It was a man’s cock. An asian man’s cock. The birth mark just below Zach’s navel confirmed it: Clay had a pic of Zach Dempsey’s cock on his phone. In the flesh, it was magnificent. Zach stopped right at Clay’s row and Clay thought he was about to get the ever-living shit punched out of him for starting. Luckily, Zach’s attention was turned across the way. He leaned against the lockers and Clay saw the weight of his cock - now almost within reaching distance - hang down towards the floor. He held his breath. “You were shit today, Foley,” Zach said, jovially. Clay looked up. A smirk - not unfriendly - played on his lips. “Fuck off,” said Justin, a flush of pink creeping up his neck as he, scowling, averted his eyes from supposed best friend. They hadn’t talked much since Justin found out about him and Jessica; he didn’t know what he’d say. What he’d really want to do every day since then was to punch him in the face - but he knew Zach would break him. He didn’t see the point anymore. “And put a fucking towel on.”“Why?” Zach’s voice boomed through the room. Clay hadn’t remembered a time when Zach had ever displayed such confidence before. He had always been popular, sure, but had always seemed happy to let the likes of Justin and Bryce Walker soak up the attention with their oversized egos. What was bearing out in front of him was something of a stunning reversal. “We’re all men here, right Justin?” The question was rhetorical obviously, but there was a bite to it - like Zach was challenging Justin for a response. Justin just glared up at him from his bench.Zach chuckled. “You got to loosen up man, I’m only joking. Let’s hit the showers.”“Yeah, whatever,” Justin muttered, rising slowly from the bench, careful to make sure his towel didn’t fall. Zach placed a hand around his shoulder, gripping it tightly and ignoring Justin’s visible flinching at the contact. And Clay watched as Zach led him towards the showers. The difference in their demeanors could not be more pronounced. Zach, tall and proud, sauntering forward, the hard muscles in his back and gluts marking their pace like a metronome. And Justin next to him, in comparison looking positively frail, shoulders hunched slightly and grabbing his towel close to him for dear life - as if the thought of it falling and allowing others to compare the two bodies further would bring unmeasurable shame. Clay watched as they disappeared behind the shower room door, and turning, realized others had been gaping at the show as well.Tyler was now holding a textbook to his crotch and still hadn’t taken his eyes of the shower room doors. Clay could almost see the wheels in his head turning at full speed. Then suddenly, he bolted from the bench, textbook still stapled to the front of his tighty whities, and ran full speed towards the restroom in desperate need to take care of something; Clay had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that something was. He nearly laughed at the thought that if Tyler had run that fast on the track today, they’d all be done a lot sooner and this whole spectacle might have been avoided. Clay realized Alex was still there - he quickly glanced at the blond boy who was staring back at him, smugly leering. He too had undoubtedly sensed the significance of the cosmic shift that had taken place before their eyes. Clay finally returned his attention to his own locker where it should have been the entire time. He quickly got dressed, shoved his belonging in his book bag and took off, not daring to look back at Alex again.And then he raced home, his head spinning. So, holy shit, it was Zach who had been sending him these texts this whole time. And it dawned on him - he must have been sending the same texts to Alex and Tyler as well; it was too coincidental that they’d all get a text at the same time right at that moment. Justin might very well have found himself enmeshed as well; he was, after all, given center stage to Zach's "display" back there. But why? No way Zach was gay, and even if he was this was a hell of a come on. What was his end game? Was this just about having a laugh at their humiliation? No, Clay thought, there was more to it than that, though he couldn’t yet guess at what. In the deep recesses of his mind - so deep he could comfortably refuse to acknowledge its existence - he hoped there was more in store.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Besides going to school, Clay rarely left his bedroom these days. Each day in class, he found himself staring at the clock, drumming his pencil impatiently against his desk, willing the day to end. When the final bell rang, he would bolt from his seat, dash out from the classroom and ride his bike back home, avoiding any conversation beyond a quick “hey” or “have a good one.”His parents were starting to worry about him, but seemed satisfied at least for now when he told them he was cracking down on studying for midterms. They were the ones after all (well, mostly his mom) who were constantly nagging him about school work and college applications.In a way, he was studying, though not for midterms. He was studying Asian superiority, not that he thought about it in exactly those terms, but what else could you call it? He had long since given up on trying to disprove the reasons given in those text messages and instead delved headlong into amassing as much supporting data as he could find. Frankly, he’d never put more effort into anything else in his life.He now had seven folders on his computer desktop, labeled as inconspicuously as possible, which grew with new material by the day. The first folder, and the one with the most stuff, was labelled “Intellect,” and contained articles and news clippings showcasing Asians’ superior intelligence, from announcements from high schools and colleges of asians shutting out whites for valedictorians, to Asians winning prestigious scholarships and prizes.The second labelled “Athleticism,” was much in the same vein with video clips and articles of asians demonstrating their physical prowess; Clay was especially on the look out for Asian teams dominating European or American opponents. Next came “Society” with articles and information of Asia’s technological and cultural achievements. Then, “Discrimination”: materials demonstrating white people’s historic use of discrimination to try to suppress Asian greatness. Dismayingly, Clay filled this folder each day with examples of present-day racism, from how affirmative action plans systematically discounted Asian achievements, to measurable discrimination against qualified Asian job applicants, to just plain run-of-the-mill racist comments from politicians. With each file that Clay added to the folder, he thought of how amazing it was that Asians could still could still be so successful as a people, as evidenced by the growing catalog of files in the other folders, while having the white man throw every obstacle in their way. He imagined what they might achieve if they were given a level playing field. The last three folders were the most sensitive - Clay didn’t know how he’d explain them if his parents came snooping. He mulled over how to name the fifth for a while, settling finally on “Desire.” Contained within were photos, videos, stories - anything really with an AMWF couple (he was starting to pick up the lingo). It also contained a few clips of AMWF pornography, the only thing Clay would let himself jerk off to these days. His old go-to’s no longer did anything for him, and at least he told himself there were still women in these videos. Clay didn’t want to think where his fantasies might wander if he let them. It was all he could do to split his attention evenly between the busty white blonds and the Asian bulls mounting them.The final two overlapped somewhat. Clay really probably should have given a better code name to the sixth folder, but none felt right. In the end, he settled on “Manhood,” and for the seventh, “Physique.” He found himself spending more and more time filling these folders up, spending several hours each evening scrolling through reams of photos of Asian men in various states of undress. Those that showcased pecs, abs, biceps etc. would go into Physique and those that emphasized girthy Asian cock went into Manhood. It almost frightened him, the feeling of this intense head high he got sorting through and studying hundreds of images a day. He’d sometime find himself looking up from his “work” only to discover that the sun had long since set, and he hadn’t started on any of his real homework. It was going to be hard to explain to his parents how his grades were slipping when he’d been “studying” so much.It was on a morning after one of these particularly late-night studying sessions that Clay groggily woke up to his alarm, not having gotten nearly enough sleep. The dream he was having was quickly dissipating from his memory but before he lost his grip on it, he knew it was the same dream he’d been having for a few nights now: He was slipping through quicksand while an enormous figure obscured in shadow stood entirely still above him, one arm outstretched to pull him up, though he couldn’t decide whether or not to take it. Despite nothing sexual about the dream at all, he woke up, as with each morning, with a raging boner. Once the dream receded from his mind’s eye, he instinctively grabbed his phone. His heart jumped up to his throat when he saw the new text from a now familiar messenger. Recently, he’d decided it didn’t feel right leaving the number as unknown so, as with the folders, he tried to come up with a name that would be meaningful to him, but not to others, in case a text popped up in public. He couldn’t just go with “Zach.” For one thing, he still couldn’t be absolutely sure it was him. Yeah, whoever it was had sent a dick pic that was clearly Zach’s, but, as with girls’ indiscrete pics, it was not unusual for jocks’ personal photos to get spread around Liberty High, however completely illegal it might be. In fact, Clay sometimes wondered now if it might be a girl - someone with an Asian bull/white cuck fetish, though that was probably just the porn talking. In the end, he’d settled on “Boss.” That way if someone saw, he could say it was the Cressmont texting about work shifts.And so, that morning he quickly opened the text from “Boss,” thinking for a moment how similar this was to the first morning that started it all - him waking up, hard as a rock to a message that would change the entire course of his sophomore year. Though back then of course, he had awoken from a dream about Hannah, and he hadn’t dreamt of her in weeks. He shook his head, dismissing the thought, and read:
“Good morning, white boy. Hard to deny it now, isn’t it? Your reeducation’s coming together nicely. Today’s lesson is a bit interactive:
Reason number 8: White boys should submit to Asian men because, deep down (maybe not so deep anymore) you know you can’t match up, and you know it’s right to give in and submit. And if you asked around, people would agree, Asian or not. The evidence is out there and obvious. So do it, white boy: ask around.
Clay read the text a few times, brow furrowing. Was he really expected to talk about this with someone else? How would that even go? Hey quick question: Should white boys submit to their Asian superiors? It was insane. A few reasons ago, he would have laughed at the absurdity of it all, ignored it, and gotten on with his life. Now, though, it seemed almost wrong to disobey the text’s demand, but he couldn’t imagine how he’d be able to go through with it. Still thinking on it, he got up and got ready for the day.After he’d showered and brushed his teeth, he returned to his room to get dressed and saw another text alert flash across his screen - Tony this time. “Hey - cars out of the shop. Could use some company to school. Be there in 15.”That was seven minutes ago. Shit. Clay threw on a shirt and pants and raced downstairs for a quick breakfast. No sooner had he gotten cereal and milk into a bowl and had sat down, the bell rang. Weird, Tony usually just honked before picking Clay up. He moved to get up, but saw through the kitchen hole that his dad beat him to the door.“Morning, Mr. Jensen,” Clay heard from the living room. “Thought I’d give Clay a ride today.”“Oh, hello, Tony! Come on in. Think I saw Clay in the kitchen. Feel free to grab whatever you’d like from the fridge.” Clay couldn’t help but notice the hint of relief in his dad’s voice that at least one of his friends was keeping contact with Clay.And then, “Hey, bud,” as Tony appeared in the kitchen doorway.“Hey, sorry,” Clay started gulping down a bite. “Got your text late. Let me just put this away.”“That’s alright, finish up. Mind if I use your bathroom quick?” At Clay’s nod, he turned around and headed for the stairs. Clay shoveled the rest of the cereal into his mouth, and tossed the bowl in the sink before heading to the living room to grab his book bag and lace up his sneakers. “Heading out?” His mom emerged through the hallway, breif case in hand. “You have that Chemistry exam today, right? How do you feel?”Clay suppressed an eye roll and was about to answer before both their heads swiveled toward the staircase to see Tony bounding down. “Oh, Tony, I didn’t know you were here.”“Just making a pit stop and taking Clay off to school, Mrs. Jensen.”“Oh god, you know you can just use the washroom down here. I hope Clay’s bathroom isn’t a total disaster.” She turned to Clay with that disapproving wide-eyed mom look. He glared at her, exasperated.“Clay’s keeping it very tidy, Mrs. Jensen.”“Well, alright then,” Laine said skeptically. “Have a great day at school, boys.”****
They sat mostly in silence on the ride over, a classic rock station playing in the background. Then, Tony spoke up: “So you’ve kinda been MIA lately, Clay. Everything all right?”“Huh? Oh yea, everything’s fine. Just busy with schoolwork.” Clay hated lying to Tony, but what could he say? Definitely not what he was actually doing in his spare time.“Well I know I keep saying this, but really, if there’s anything you need to talk about, I’m here for you.”“I know. Thanks, Tony.” And then a thought occurred to Clay. Maybe he could talk to Tony about something. He’d have to go about it extremely carefully though.He started off slowly: “Hey, Tony, there is something I’ve been thinking about recently. It’s a little bit weird, and I guess a sensitive subject but…” He trailed off, but Tony gave him a look to go on. “But you know how we’ve always been taught that race doesn’t matter and all people are equal?” His heart was thumping in his chest.“Um, yea…”“Well I’ve been thinking about how maybe that’s not the right way to go about things. Like maybe there are differences and we should acknowledge that.” Clay looked over seeing Tony’s face furrow and prayed he wouldn’t lose him.“Um, I’m not quite sure what you’re trying to get at, Clay.” Tony’s voice was measured, but Clay could tell he was struggling. “You know, white people have used that kind of thinking for centuries to put down minorities.”“No, I totally agree!” Clay thought about aborting, but pressed on. He noted that Tony had already invoked Reason 4. “I mean more like, if minorities happened to be better at certain things.”“You mean like Asians being smarter.” Tony said it so matter-of-factly, that Clay felt he’d been punched in the gut.“Um, well, I mean, sure. Do you - do you think that’s actually true?”Tony was now chuckling. “I don’t know, man. I guess it could be true. Feels true in some of my classes. But hey, you’re a smart dude, right?”The C calculus exam crumpled at the bottom of Clay’s book bag begged to differ. Clay pressed on. “Okay, so let’s just assume we could prove Asians are smarter. Would that change how we should treat them?”Tony thought for a couple of minutes. “Well, I guess if we actually proved that, then society would benefit from giving Asians more power, right? They’d know better how to solve the world’s problems.”“Yes, exactly!” Clay was relieved Tony didn’t think he was a freak talking about this stuff. But then again, he thought, he wasn’t supposed to be happy that Tony was affirming the texts’ lessons.“And then I guess we’d need to figure out what to do with white people,” Tony continued, almost as an afterthought.Now the hairs on Clay’s neck stood up. “Uh wh-what do you mean?”“Well dude, not to get all political, but if Asians were smarter and could have been running things and improving things this whole time, and white people prevented them from doing that, then that discrimination wouldn’t only be an injustice against Asians but really an injustice against the rest of us too. It would be, like, doubly bad. There would need to be some consequences, right?”Clay stared at Tony, who looked unfazed as he kept his eyes on the road, as if he was just following one logical thought to another. Maybe he was. But what “consequences” was he thinking of?“Like…reparations?” Clay ventured.“Eh, maybe. Honestly, I don’t think throwing money around really solves anything.”And now Clay felt like he was being put in the hot seat - as if he was supposed to find the answer to Tony’s question: What to do with white people?“Well…would justice require whites let Asians treat them the same way we treated Asians?” He meant to to sound sarcastic, but it came out as genuinely unsure. Tony raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Nah, man. That’s a punishment without a purpose. That doesn’t help anyone. But maybe…” He trailed off.“What is it?” Clay desperately needed to know what Tony was thinking.“I don’t know, man. It’s a weird thought.”“Just say it!” He caught himself becoming too excited and tried to reel himself back in “I mean…we’re just spitballing here.”“And this is all just hypothetical of course.”“Huh? Oh yea, of course.” “Well…I think what would create the most benefit for everyone would be for whites to support Asians in their new responsibilities.”“Support? Support how?”“Well if Asians were actually smarter, then they’d decide, right? They’d know how best to use you. And that way, it would have the double benefit of correcting past injustices and serving the current greater good.”Clays neck was growing incredibly warm. He couldn’t believe his best friend thought this way. Thought this way about him. Sure, he’d set up the premises, but it still shocked him that Tony would take them to this conclusion. But then again, he wasn’t saying anything that didn’t make some sense. And that was perhaps what truly frightened Clay. All this time he’d been able to tell himself that even if the texts were true - even if Asian men were innately superior, it still didn’t have anything to do with him. But now, here, Tony was laying it all out there as if it were obvious. “Supporting” Asians? Clay knew that was just a euphemism for other concepts. Servicing. Submitting. Exactly what the texts were telling him to do.“That’s an…interesting thought. But, it’s a bit demeaning, isn’t it?” Clay at least had to try to salvage whatever was left of his dignity and make some kind of limp counterargument. “I mean, you’re really talking about subservience.”“Yeah, but there’s nothing inherently wrong about subservience, especially when it’s in service of a superior figure, which is the hypothetical we’re working with, right? Does it demean the dog to be leashed and led around by man? Of course not; it’s for both dog and man’s benefit.”“But, I’m not a dog.” The flush around Clay’s neck had moved swiftly to his cheeks and he could feel the sting of tears beginning to form in his eyes.“I never said you were, buddy.” Tony glanced over to him with a sympathetic smile. “I’m just saying, if we could truly prove someone’s superiority, there would be nothing wrong or odd about serving that person. But this is all just hypothetical, remember?” Clay nodded weakly. Anyway, I think it’s great you think about this stuff. You’re the wokest white boy I know.”Clay forced himself to chuckle along with Tony, but inside, his mind was in crisis-mode.****Tyler was alone developing photos in the school’s darkroom. He tried to keep his hands steady as he transferred the photos from tray to tray and then to the drying clothesline. He shivered in excitement as the images appeared in the development solution, a shirtless, muscular figure through the window panes of a well-adorned home in the nice part of town. Ever since he’d seen Zach in his full glory that day in the locker room, he was hooked. Something within him snapped and he needed more. So every night since then, he’d sneak out of his house with his camera and make his way towards Zach’s, staking out sometimes for hours to catch a glimpse. He had little luck for the most part. It was only on the third night that he even caught a glimpse of the raven-haired Adonis just as he was turning the lights off for bed. For several nights after it was much the same, his heart jumping in his chest the moment any body part came in to view followed by the sinking feeling in his stomach once the lights went out and his chance of getting a satisfying eyeful dashed. Until last night. Last night, Zach stepped up to the window, and even though faintly backlit, Tyler could see his pecs and deltoids bulging, body glistening in a thin vaneer of sweat; he must have just finished exercising in his home gym or something. He stood there silently for a few minutes - expressionless. Tyler half wondered if Zach might know that he was out there hiding in a bush snapping photos of him. But soon enough he turned away and the lights went out. Tyler realized he was holding his breath for the entire time, and the sight before him coupled with the lack of oxygen made him painfully hard. He quickly dropped his pants around his knees, in such a frenzied state that he didn’t even care about being seen, and rubbed one out in 30 seconds, visualizing what Zach might do to him if he had caught him there.Now, back in the darkroom, Tyler again was not exercising particular care in hiding his clandestine activities. If a teacher walked in, forget about losing his role on yearbook, he’d likely be expelled and the police might even get involved. But he wasn’t thinking clearly these days and the thought of being found out, the humiliation involved, turned him on like no other.As with so many things however, the reality is never as good as the fantasy, so when, moments later, light started to flood into the room, rather than feeling some rush of sexual bliss, he instead felt like a cockroach wanting to scatter. Yet he remained frozen.“Oh, sorry, didn’t know anyone was in here,” Ryan Shaver said nonchalantly but made no move to leave the lab. He stared blankly at Tyler for a moment. “Th-the red light was on.”“Guess I didn’t notice.” He started to walk over to the photos drying on the line. Tyler quickly came out of his stupor and tried to distract the lanky gay boy. “What are you doing here anyway?”Ryan was still advancing nearer to the clothesline. “Was gonna develop some photography for the Lost and Found, but I see you’re hogging the darkroom.” Tyler winced as he saw the taller boy focus in on the hanging photos, eyes widening. His face broke out into an enormous shit-eating grin and he said, “Ah ha, and for good reason I see. Always knew you were a pervert, Tyler, but this is too delicious.”Tyler’s face was beet red, and he could only stand there silently, staring at the ground, looking up only when Ryan continued: “But fuck, who could blame you?”“What do you mean?” the boy said meekly, thinking back to the text he had received this morning and its command: “Ask around.”“Zach Dempsey is a fucking god. And I heard he’s hung as a horse down there. Too bad you didn’t get a shot of that.” He winked lewdly. Tyler was half tempted to whip out his cell phone and show Ryan the dick pic he was now pretty sure was Zach’s so the two could ogle over it together - but he refrained. “You know, last summer, I was hooking up with this Korean senior from Hillcrest and….unff!” He let out an obscene moan that reinvigorated the stirring in Tyler’s groin. “I’m telling you Tyler, Asian men really do make the best lovers. I one hundred percent support whatever this is,” he gestured widely to Tyler and his photographs.Tyler couldn’t respond. An image flashed before his eyes of him and Ryan naked on their knees before an erect Zach as Ryan guided Tyler’s head toward the magnificent phallus…“I gotta go,” Tyler stammered hand overtly trying to hide the growing erection in his pants as he made his way passed Ryan towards the door. “You can have the room.”****Justin was shooting hoops on his free period in an empty gym…poorly. He just couldn’t concentrate for shit these days. Jessica was still ignoring him, and vice versa. Seth and his mother were making life a living hell at home. And these damn texts kept reminding him constantly of his inadequacies, especially now that Zach was trying to be all buddy-buddy with him.At about the two-dozenth missed free throw, he heard a “Foley!” from behind him. Turning around, he saw Coach Patrick walking towards him, frowning.“Coach.”“I’m not liking what I’m seeing, Foley. What’s the matter with you?” Coach had concern in his voice but it still felt like a slap in the face to Justin. “I don’t know, Coach.” He willed his eyes not to tear up. “That’s why I’m here. Trying to work out the kinks.” “Well, it clearly isn’t working.” Justin held his breath. He felt like a child about to be yelled at by a parent. Coach just let out a sigh. “Listen, Justin. I’ve spoken with some of your teachers. They’ve told me you’ve been having more trouble than usual in class.” Justin felt the hot stab of shame in his chest. He could just never be spared the unending parading of his failures it seemed. “And seeing you on the court these last few weeks, something is clearly wrong. Now, I can’t make you talk to someone, but I can take some of your burdens off your plate. So that said, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to relieve you of your captain’s duties.”Justin shouldn’t have been surprised but it still felt like a punch to the gut. This team was the only reason he still showed his face at school. Despite himself, he starting groveling: “No, Coach, please. It’s nothing. Really. It’s just - I haven’t been focusing enough lately. I can do better, I -” Coach cut him off, not having it. “Well that would be a major problem itself. We’re weeks away from the state championship. I need every single one of my players at 100% and you’re clearly not there. Do you disagree?”He didn’t sound like he was actually amenable to disagreement on the matter. “No sir,” Justin answered, defeated. What was he going to say? Coach was right. And then, maybe because he wanted in that moment to wallow in his own self-pity, or maybe because the text he received this morning compelled him to dig the knife in deeper, he asked, “Who’s gonna replace me?” Coach gave him a hard look, and said, “Who do you think should replace you?” This time, Justin couldn’t tell if the question was rhetorical. Either way he wasn’t answering. Coach couldn’t make him say it out loud. Coach continued: “I think Zach deserves this right now, don’t you? He’s been a dominant player lately and the team looks up to him as a leader.”Justin nodded, more to end the conversation than anything else. Coach placed a hand on his shoulder, gave him a little nudge and turned away.Justin tried to calm himself with a deep breath. He grabbed another basketball and took another shot, this time through tears. He missed again.*********Alex entered the cafeteria on a mission. After scanning the room for a moment, he found his target: Jessica. She was eating by herself and had headphones on. Perfect.Alex strolled over and sat down across from her. Jessica looked up and her face immediately dropped. “I’m a little busy here, Alex.”“Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me. I get it, and I’m sorry for what happened. I just want to ask you one question, and then I’ll go.”She looked at him for a second, like she was wondering if she could even handle that much conversation with her ex. Alex couldn’t exactly blame her; the last time they had spoken was at the winter dance where Alex told Jessica he loved her after he had fucked everything up with the best/worst list. Funny, sitting across from her now, Alex couldn’t conjure up those feelings he once had for her. This encounter was purely business. Finally: “Fine, what is it?”Alex took a deep breath. “Did you sleep with Zach?” It wasn’t clear where the rumor had come from, and both Jessica and Zach had every reason to keep it a secret to protect Justin. And yet Alex had heard it being whispered throughout the school. Apparently when some of the jocks asked Zach about it directly, the hunk played coy but quickly changed the subject. What was so weird (and delicious) was that rather than guiltily avoiding Justin, Zach seemed to go out of his way to be aggressively friendly with Justin. There was that bizarre scene in the locker room the other day, but Alex saw on multiple occasions Zach shouting out Justin’s name in the hall and punching him on the shoulder or putting him in a headlock. As if he was publicly displaying his dominance over the boy. Alex more or less expected Jessica’s reaction. “Are you fucking kidding me, Alex?”She moved to grab her stuff as if she would leave, and Alex knew he needed to make a quick save, so he put on his best pathetically tragic face and blubbered, “No, please, Jessica. It’s not like that. I’ve just been going through so much shit in my head, and I really don’t care what you do with other guys, but I just need to know this one thing.” Jessica looked at him more disgusted than sympathetic, but she leaned in and said in a somehow hushed yell, “You know what, Alex? Yeah. I did sleep with Zach. It’s my life and it’s not any of your damn business, but yeah we hooked up.” As soon as she had said it she looked drained and maybe even relieved to get it off her chest. Sensing a potential thawing, Alex pressed on. “Thanks for telling me. I totally agree. It’s your life and your body and I’m truly so sorry if I ever made you feel any differently.” He was laying it on thick, but all for a purpose.“Thanks.” Her expression softened. “I appreciate that.” They sat for a few moments in silence finally smiling at one another.Then: “But, I'm sorry. I really just want to understand. When we were dating you...said you weren't ready. What changed?"The look of pity on her face was enraging but somehow Alex wanted more of it. Wanted in this moment to be condescended to. "Alex..." Jessica looked upward collecting her thoughts. After a moment, she spoke slowly, "I lied. The truth was, you weren't ready. Emotionally and...." She trailed off."Physically," he finished for her bluntly.She looked at him guiltily. "Look, when we did the over the pants stuff...I just knew it wouldn't be good. For either of us. Let's just leave it there, please.""Ok. I get it." They sat silently for a minute or so, but Alex still wanted more. "So…how was it with Zach?” Alex said, putting on a devious smile to put Jessica at ease. She didn't see him as a sexual being now, that much was clear, so maybe she could see him as a different role. He knew the rumors about him, so why not try to play up the gay best friend card?Jessica’s eyes widened, but the edges of her mouth curved upward. “Alex.” She laughed. Alex laughed too, though his heart was pounding. He craved more detail.“What? I’m just genuinely curious. Really, no hard feelings.”A mischievous gleam appeared in her eye, and she bit her lip, thinking on it, before saying, “It was amazing.” It was clear, no matter how awkward it was to say to her ex, Jessica had definitely wanted to tell someone. “Yeah?”“He just knew exactly how to turn me on. He was gentle but so firm, and just made me feel things I’d never felt before, he got so deep - ” She clasped her hands over her mouth giggling embarrassedly.“So, bigger than me, I take it." She blushed, hands still over her mouth, but nodded, her eyes apologizing. "And Justin?" This time, the nod was more enthusiastic and she moved her hand from her mouth revealing a toothy grin. Alex felt a rust of triumph. “Does Justin know?”And now Jessica looked pained again. “I think so. He’s been avoiding me since it happened, but I don’t know how he would have found out.” Alex outwardly matched her expression in sympathy, but inside he was euphoric. So all this time Zach was publicly manhandling Justin while he and half the school knew Zach had had his way with his girl. It was all too perfect.Jessica went on, trying to justify her actions. “Zach is…ugh, I don’t know. He’s just so much more mature than Justin in every way.”And then before he could stop himself: “And more mature than me.”Jessica pursed her lips and thought for a moment trying to formulate the right words. Finally she found them: “Well, I don’t think he’d write that "hot-or-not" list, would he?”“No.” Alex bowed his head, tears welling up in his eye because, though he couldn't deny now that it was turning him on, the shame he felt was genuine. Jessica reached out to touch his hand, but unlike in the past, the act was devoid of any romance - just a small act of warmth to a pitiful, wounded creature. Alex got what he wanted and was satisfied.****Clay felt sick to his stomach the whole day. He couldn’t stop replaying the conversation earlier that morning with Tony - turning it over and over in his head. Even though he had developed a fascination towards Asian men - ok let’s call it what it was, an obsession - he realized that until now, he hadn’t really taken seriously the idea that inferiority would lead to submission. But now the argument was laid before him and he couldn’t shake it, couldn’t rationalize it away. It was like part of his mind didn’t even want to, and that was what was so scary: the idea that the rabbit hole he’d been following these last couple of weeks was truly messing with his ability to think straight. He was for the first time afraid of where all of this was going to lead.He was thinking about this during a free period in the library while waiting for his tutoring session with Jeff, when Marcus showed up beside him.“Hey, Clay. Glad I found you here.” Clay never particularly liked Marcus, particularly after whatever happened on Valentine’s Day between him and Hannah that pushed her into the arms of Zach. But beyond that, his outwardly friendliness never felt genuine, and Clay could sense just now that whatever he needed to tell Clay would not be good news, despite his chipper greeting. “Listen, we need to talk. You’ve missed the last three Honor Board meetings. It’s just not acceptable, Clay.”Shit. It was true, Clay had ignored basically all of his extra curriculars since starting his new studying routine, but Honor Board was the real feather in his cap, the thing that was supposed to get him into a top college, and he’d been blowing it off to archive photos of Asian cock.“Marcus, I’m so sorry. I promise, I’ll be - ” Marcus cut him off. “Save it, Clay. Per the bylaws, the Board took a vote and decided to remove you. Mr. Porter approved our decision.” Clay sat there stunned. The Board never followed the bylaws. Marcus himself had missed a whole months of meetings last fall for college visits and no one batted an eye. But if Mr. Porter had ratified the decision, that was it. He was done.“Do you know who’s replacing me?” It didn’t much matter now, but curiosity got the best of him.Marcus broke into a smile, probably glad that Clay wasn’t going to make a scene. “I’ve recommended Zach Dempsey to Mr. Porter. I think he’d make a great contribution, don’t you think?”Clay could only nod numbly as Marcus patted him on the shoulder and walked off. He was still staring blankly ahead when he heard, “Hey, Clay - woah you don’t look so good.” Clay looked up to see Jeff standing over him, looking concerned.Clay quickly tried to pull himself together. “Oh hey, Jeff. Sorry, just having a really bad day, but let’s get started,” he said, beginning to open a textbook.“Oh, sorry to hear that. But good news, you won’t have to deal with me in your hair today.”“What do you mean?”“So Zach has been tutoring me in math, and apparently he’s also really into history and english too so we just agreed that he could tutor me in those all together and it would work out better with our practice schedule and all.”Clay felt like he’d been smacked in the face. His life was crumbling before him and behind the wreckage was Zach at every turn. This seemed far too coincidental. Jeff, noticing Clay’s onsetting despair, tried to make a quick save: “But dude, you’ve been great. You really helped me out a lot. It’s just more convenient this way. Plus, I feel bad, you haven’t asked me for girl advice in forever and I feel like I’m just mooching off you now.”Clay didn’t want to think about why he hadn’t been asking Jeff for girl advice. “But, so, you’re paying Zach?”“No, no. I just do some, ah…” Jeff dropped eye contact for a moment, seemingly embarrassed. “Favors for him every once in a while,” he finished. Clay’s mind immediately flashed to Jeff on his knees smiling up at Zach leering over him about to - He felt like he was about to be sick and quickly excused himself. Once outside, he took a series of deep, gulping breaths, trying to stop the shaking. This had all gone way too far. What had at first felt like a game that he had played into was quickly upending his social and academic life. It needed to stop, but he would need help. Thinking for a moment longer, he made a decision. He pulled out his phone, dug up the numbers of Tyler, Alex and Justin, and quickly typed out a message: “Meet after school at Monet’s. Nobody else. We need to talk about the texts.”****Clay got there first and grabbed a table in an alcove in the back away from would-be eavesdroppers, and watched as each of the boys came in. First was Tyler, pale and jittery, but his face resolved into an expression of mild relief once he spotted Clay. Next, Justin - permanently wearing an angry grimace, even as he sat down with the two boys, not making eye contact with either or saying a word. And then Alex, whose face was hardest to read but seemed to Clay to have a look of cautious curiosity, perhaps over how this meeting might unfold. The four boys sat in silence for maybe a full minute before Clay finally decided that since he had called them together, he’d need to be the one to start.He cleared his throat nervously. “So, since everyone’s here, and no one’s asked why, I assume we all know…” He look around to each boy nodding, Justin shooting daggers with a minuscule jerk of his head. Clay took another breath. “Ok, well at first I just figured I would ignore them but it’s beginning to feel like things have been…well, changing around me in ways that seem to be a direct result of the texts.” He spoke slowly and cautiously not wanting to give too much away in case the other boys had completely different reactions, but as he looked around he thought he could see glimmer of recognition from Justin. Alex again just looked like he was curious to hear more from Clay, but Tyler vigorously nodded his head. Clay pleaded with his eyes for Tyler to take over talking. “I…I think a lot about it. Like, the text just constantly run through my mind and I know they can’t be true but then things happen to make…” Tyler paused and shuttered. “To make them feel real.” He looked at Clay who gave him a small smile, internally grateful that someone else was feeling what he was feeling. “Why can’t they be true?” Alex’s face was stone-cold serious as the boys turned their heads to him in bewilderment. After a beat, Justin finally spoke up in a rasped whisper, “Fuck off, Alex.” “I’m serious. Clay and Tyler just said they’ve noticed the world reflecting the texts. Isn’t the simplest answer that they’re just right?”Clay felt him chest deflating as he watched Alex, desperately hoping he’d admit he was joking. Justin’s face twisted in rage. “Fuck. You. This shit is garbage, and maybe the three of you like beating off to it, but I’m no fag for Asian dick.”“Oh really, Justin? Never think about just letting Zach bend you over after a game and - ”“Ok! Ok.” Clay jumped in, before Justin could jump over the table and pound Alex’s face into the floor. Tyler was shifting uncomfortably next to him. “Look, I don’t know what exactly is happening or why it’s happening, and why it’s happening to us, but…I think we all want it to stop right?” Silence again, but Clay couldn’t tell if it was because the others thought the answer was obvious or if they were unsure of the answer itself. Clay realized in that moment, he might be in the second boat. But he needed to press on. “I think we need to show these texts to someone. Bolan or Porter or maybe even the police. And then they can check Zach's phone, and - ”“It’s not Zach’s phone.” Justin said sullenly, eyes downcast.“It…it isn’t?” Clay realized that of course Justin would have Zach’s number. “No, and I’ve gotten texts while the two of us have been in practice. No phones allowed. It’s not him.”Clay knew it was a possibility that Zach wasn’t involved, but to have it confirmed sent his mind racing for a new explanation. “Ok, well… We can still show it to the cops and maybe they can trace it or…”“This is stupid.” Alex rolled his eyes. “If you want this to stop, then just stop reading the texts. Better yet, block the number. What does it say that none of us have done that yet?” He looked around to embarrassed faces. “And I bet none of us could help but to do today’s assignment.”“Today’s assignment?” Clay was momentarily confused.“‘Ask around’? We all made someone else confirm to us that Asians are better than we are, right?” Alex was now sporting a smug grin as Clay’s mind flashed to his conversations with Tony and Marcus and Jeff. Tyler and Justin both looked uncomfortable as well.Alex continued: “The way I see it, either the texts are wrong, in which case we should have no problem moving on with our lives. Or they’re right and…” His mouth curled into a wicked smile.Justin banged his hands on the table and started pulling on his jacket. “I’m done with this shit. You all want to queer yourselves out for some Asian fag, that’s your business but count me the fuck out.” He stormed out of the cafe. Clay turned to Alex about to admonish him, but the blond boy was leaving too. “Clay you’re just gonna have to decide for yourself what it is you really want.” He walked away leaving Clay, mouth hanging open, trying to formulate a response. Tyler was getting up to leave as well. “Sorry, Clay,” he said apologetically, but had a far-away look in his eyes. “Good luck.”And then Clay was alone and he realized it would be every man for himself. Well, not men, he thought bitterly. After this, it was clear they were all still boys, frightened and, he feared, helpless.****Justin’s hands were still shaking as he walked into his family’s apartment, but no sooner had he closed and locked the door behind him, then he felt himself being spun around and slammed back into it. Seth had appeared from nowhere and was now pressing his hand against Justin’s throat, his face inches from the slighter boy, eyes manically wide-open. “Where are my fucking drugs!?” It was clear he was going through a bad trip, and from the smell of it had also been drinking. Justin desperately tried to pull away, screaming, “I didn’t take your goddamn drugs!”From the bedroom, his mother wailed, “Just give him the drugs, Justin!” She was also clearly out of her mind as well. Justin finally found his footing and, using the wall behind him for support, mustered all his strength to push away Seth who fell backward over the coffee table and onto the floor. He groaned loudly, slow to get up.Justin scrambled to get the door open and escape, fumbling over the locks. From the ground, Seth groaned, “Yeah, you better run, boy. Run to that butt buddy of yours with the mansion, or maybe the big chink guy. He your Chinese daddy, boy?” He was clearly delirious, but Justin felt his face flush with shame as he finally got the locks undone and ran out, tears obscuring his path. Seth, his mom, they were all white trash. And then that nasty voice in the back of his head asking how he could expect to be any better. Once out of the apartment complex, Justin tried to compose himself. He had had perhaps the worst day of life and just needed to shut down. Rubbing away the sting from his eyes, he knew where he was going to go.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Justin woke up on the couch in Bryce’s pool house, gasping for air, likely from a combination of his mouth and throat being exceptionally dry from the copious amounts of weed he and Bryce had smoked last night, and a recurring dream - unshaken for years - of fingers down his throat. He’d been staying with Bryce the last few nights now, missing a couple days of school before the weekend. Thankfully, Bryce didn’t ask questions. His head was still foggy as he lifted himself up on his elbows, stretching out the kinks in his back. He had been smoking every night since he arrived, and throughout most of the days if he was being honest. He wanted to obliterate the last few days. Months really, and the weed kept him numb and his mind empty for the time being. The light streamed in through the window and wavered in midair off the dusty haze that refused to settle. Justin thought it must have been past noon, so he was slightly embarrassed when he saw Bryce stepping out of the main house and rounding the pool. He quickly made sure his not-so-morning wood was obscured by blankets before Bryce stepped in.Bryce wrinkled his nose as he walked in. “Guess you went pretty late after I left, huh.” The remark could have been taken as impressed or judgmental; Justin had an idea which was intended, confirmed by: “And it’s kind of starting to smell like feet in here, dude.”Justin felt his cheeks heat up, and he dropped his eye contact from Bryce like a kicked dog. “Uh, sorry, man. I’ll, uh, clean up a bit.” He hated how weed made him feel meek and compliant, even after it was nearly out of his system. All he wanted to do was tell Bryce to fuck off.“No worries, bro! My pool house is your pool house. You know I love having you here.” So typical of Bryce to neg Justin in one breath and act magnanimous in the next - a one-two punch of guilt tripping reminding Justin how lucky he was to have Bryce’s hospitality and how poorly he showed his appreciation.“I’m about to head to the gym, but think I left my phone here last night. You seen it?” Justin remembered digging it out from under him as he was falling asleep, but just as he was about to turn to the table where he placed it, Bryce spotted it as well. “Ah! I got it, don’t worry.” He hurried over and snatched it up, checking the screen quickly before burying it in a pocket of his sweatpants.“Alright, well, try not to stay on the couch all day.”Once the door shut again, Justin slumped back down. The fog had mostly lifted from his brain, but now in its place he could hear the echo of Alex’s voice when they were all together at Monet’s just a few days prior, taunting Justin about “letting Zach bend you over after a game and -” No. His hand shot out for the snuff box on the end table behind him, and he reached inside for an already-rolled joint and a lighter. Staying on the couch sounded like a perfect plan, thank you very much. Fuck you, Bryce.****Across town, Clay was in free fall. Since the day of the last text, talking to Tony and the other boys, it was like a light switch had been flipped on and he was now able to see for the first time how far he had slipped under the texts’ spell. How outrageous it was that an otherwise perfectly ordinary boy who before two months ago had not given more than a passing thought to another boy’s body, was now collecting photos and videos of Asian men’s bodies and cocks on his computer. How he had let his grades fall, his relationships with his family and friends slip to the wayside, all to see how far he could prove to himself the truth of Asian superiority. And then, what was most frightening, how little resistance he had put up. How anger and indignation had quickly dissolved into shame and humiliation, which itself was reconfigured into acceptance and rabid curiosity. It was only after considering the logical effect of Asian superiority that Clay became aware of all the things in his life that would change if it were true. Tony’s moral argument replayed over and over in his head, with its simple logic that subservience to the Asian race would help cure past injustice while serving the benefit of all humanity. But leaving aside morality, the practical implications of purported Asian superiority gave rise to a darker conclusion: Asian men would be able to outsmart, outmaneuver, outnumber and generally outmatch whites boys should they feel inclined to take what was rightfully theirs, and should the white race resist. Submission would not only be the right thing to do, it would be downright prudent. But then there was the realization of what submission entailed: He’d have to give up dreams of college and a career, dreams of having a family, or finding that one special girl. In the past few days, Clay desperately tried to summon those long-ago feelings he once had towards Hannah, to frustratingly little avail. And so with this new lucidity, the work he had done to convince himself of the supremacy of the Asian male, an endeavor that had consumed and fulfilled him these last few weeks and given him a mind and body high he’d never experience before, now filled him with dread. Dread that it was all true, but more than that, dread that it may not be, and that he had inadvertently broke something within his mind preventing him from thinking clearly anymore.So he sat in his room, computer shut down, text books and worksheets splayed out in front of him, desperately trying to focus and get his brain back on track. But it was impossible to concentrate! It would take him an hour to get through a single paragraph in his history textbook, and by the time he finished a page, he forgot how it had begun. The graphs and equations seemed to shift and morph before his eyes. His fingers tapped the desk non-stop as he willed himself to not think about booting up his computer and running more searches to add to his folder collections. He had to focus; he’d bought into the allure of Asian superiority, but it was nothing more than a sick game played on him. It had to be. It was the mantra he told himself over and over. And yet with every paragraph he reread and couldn’t grasp, with every equation unsolved, another voice grew louder, whispering in the back of his mind, asking a question to which he could offer no answer: If it weren’t true, how could it have this effect over him? And so he sat there, at that desk, mostly paralyzed from the war taking place in his thoughts, until exhaustion set in and he forced himself to get up and drag his body to bed, schoolwork unfinished. ****
Alex, meanwhile returned to school that next Monday in a relatively good mood. He kept thinking back to the boy’s meeting at Monet’s. How sad and pathetic they all were, especially Clay, trying to rally them together to stand up to Zach. He did have to hand it to Clay, he had suspected ever since that day in the locker room that he was not the only one getting these texts, but Clay had gone out on quite a limb asking them all to meet, and had been 3 for 3. But then the boy had the nerve to sit them all down and pretend he wanted things to go back to normal. None of them actually wanted that, it was painfully obvious. If any one of them wanted that, they didn’t need to get the gang together; they needed to stop reading the texts. And none of them would even consider that. No, Alex bet he knew the real reason why Clay had called them together. He might have told himself it was to try to put up a resistance, but the truth was very much the opposite. He wanted confirmation that the others were as weak as he was. He wanted more proof so he’d have permission to finally give in to the texts. And maybe even more unconsciously, he wanted to give that permission to the others by showing them all he was weak too. It was now clear to Alex that the others were just like him, craved the degradation and humiliation, to themselves and to each other. Wanted their noses rubbed in it, like a dog being housebroken not to shit on the carpet, who then laps his mess up when no one’s looking. Why? For that, Alex didn’t have a simple answer, though some ideas came to mind. They were, after all, very different from one another, came from different social circles, but maybe that was intentional and proved the point. The one thing they had in common: they were all white boys. They lived their whole lives in a society that told them implicitly and constantly that they were better than others, and they were dumb enough to have believed it. When overwhelming evidence to the contrary eroded the illusion, instinct started to kick in. An instinct to take one’s correct place in the natural hierarchy - for survival’s sake. They found themselves naked before the truth of their inferiority, and sure, the exposure was humiliating, but they also felt an urgent need to display themselves fully to each other and to their Asian superiors, to signal that they were harmless and defenseless. The not-yet-housebroken dog bearing his belly to his master. With that humiliation on display, they could say without speaking out-loud: I no longer pose a threat to the rightful social order.And so Alex walked the halls of Liberty High with a smile on his face, especially when he passed Justin, who had finally shown up to school, who scowled and turned away embarrassed when Alex tried to catch his eye. He spotted Clay, who looked exhausted and miserable. His expression changed to one of bewilderment seeing the blonde boy’s leering grin, and it seemed like he might say something, but instead he shuffled by wordlessly. Tyler was nowhere to be seen, but Alex imagined sneeringly that he was probably jerking off in some bathroom stall or other. There was even a point in the day where he caught Zach’s eyes in the hall and the Asian jock seemed to smirk at him knowingly. A rush of excitement flared through Alex’s body as he immediately began to chub up in his pants and it felt as if they were both in on a conspiracy together.Alex’s good mood lasted nearly the entire day, right up until the last bell. As Alex was grabbing books from his locker, Monty and two other football players, Scott Reid and Luke Holliday sauntered down the hall on their way to spring training. As usual, they were horsing around and talking shit. Alex hardly bore them any mind though he did happen to hear Monty say something about “that fag tight-end from Hillcrest.” Monty’s homophobia was well-known to all, and Alex suspected that it was rooted in a personal turmoil of sorts, so perhaps what next passed from Alex’s lips was not entirely called-for, but honestly, it was mostly innocuous and he hadn’t really expected anyone to hear him. But not more than a second after he uttered “You’d know, Monty,” was he seeing spots explode before his eyes, followed by a flash of pain shooting across his skull, followed only then by the sound of his head crashing against the locker beside his. Before he could piece together what had happened, he was spun around and pushed back against the wall. Monty, eyes filled with psychopathic fury, had one hand pressed against Alex’s chest pinning him to the wall while a fist was raised above him, aimed at Alex’s face. His goons stood shell-shocked nearby, not knowing how to react to Monty’s sudden fit of rage.“What did you say to me, faggot!?” he snarled, as Alex embarrassingly squealed out a high-pitch plea for Monty to let him go. And then a burst of white light and a second crash of skull against metal as Monty’s fist connected with Alex’s left eye.Then, from several paces down the hall, a not-at-all-convincing “Let him go, Monty!” “Or what, Jensen? Mad I’m bruising up your fuck-buddy over here?” Great, just what I need, Alex thought, Clay to to rescue again. And true to form, Clay could only stand there mouth slightly agape, and Alex imagined he could hear the whirring of gears turning in Clay’s head trying to come up with something, anything, in response. Three seconds later, though it felt much longer, a teacher shouted through the crowd, “What’s going on down there!?” Holliday prodded Monty on the shoulder with something that might have been, “Let’s go, Coach will have our ass,” and the the jocks ducked out of the nearest exit. Alex doubled over gasping for breath and clutching his eye, now throbbing. He glanced down the hall to see that the teacher, whoever it was, had already disappeared back into a classroom. Typical Liberty faculty, going no further than the bear minimum of making sure students didn’t physically kill each other. Clay though, was warily approaching him.“Shit, Alex. Let’s get you some ice. Let me help -” But Alex lost it. He had gotten too cocky, too confident while reveling in the other boys’ misery. He momentarily forgot his own white weakness, and now here he was, giving another demonstration for Clay to add to his list. “Leave me alone, Clay!” his voice still shrill and cracking, though he now reflected that it was an appropriate timbre. “You can’t help me, you can’t help anyone. Just fucking give it up already.” He scooped up his books which he had dropped in the altercation and scurried out the door Monty and company had just gone through, leaving Clay standing there, impotently.**** After his run-in with Alex, Clay left the school downtrodden, and headed toward the bike rack near the baseball field, but as he was approaching, he saw Justin just a few yards ahead of him slip behind the bleachers, alone. Figuring he likely wasn’t up to good, Clay thought for a moment of following him. Maybe he could get another chance to talk with him about the texts alone. Last week at Monet’s had been a disaster, but Alex had, after all, seemed bent on derailing any idea of a solution, and Tyler.… Well, Tyler may be too far gone at this point. It was clear to Clay that Justin at least was genuinely disturbed at what had been going on. Maybe they could figure out some kind of plan to get through this, this attack on their psyches, even if Alex and Tyler didn’t want to take part. On the other hand, perhaps Alex was right:
Maybe Clay couldn’t help any of them. That thought scared him of course, but despite himself, Clay felt it wrap around him like a cozy blanket. If there really was no resisting at this point, there was no need to keep fighting. Clay thought morbidly to stories of hypothermic adventurers in the wilderness who experienced a sleepy sense of warmth before succumbing. In the end, sheer curiosity won out; Clay needed to see what Justin was up to.It took Clay a moment to find him. Justin had situated himself behind a wide beam, but Clay then heard clicking and mumbled cursing. As he approached cautiously from the side, he saw the boy fumbling over a lighter, trying to light a blunt, and Clay could just make out faint streaks down his face that appeared to be from newly dried tears. A half second later, he noticed Clay and nearly jumped out of his skin, momentarily jerking his hands inward, trying to hide their contents.“Jesus fuck, Clay! What are you doing here?”Clay was close enough now to see the boy’s hands were trembling, and he felt a surge of emotion swell within him, not dissimilar from the way he felt hearing young children cry in public. But there was something else there too. He was reminded faintly of the first time he saw Hannah. He pushed that strange thought aside. Even though Justin was glaring up at him angrily, the boy was clearly pained. “Justin…what’s wrong?” He did his best to not sound like he was talking to a three-year-old, with uncertain success.“What’s wrong? Everything’s fucking wrong, Clay. Don’t you get it?” Yeah, Clay got it. It was fucked up what was happening to them. The last couple of days, Clay felt he was barely holding it together as well. But seeing Justin here in this state was…unsettling. The two had never been friends, really. Clay had only really known Justin as a dumb, loud jock - someone who ruined Hannah’s first few months at Liberty by sharing that playground photo. Honestly, when ever Justin had crossed his mind, the feelings associated were mostly of loathing. But seeing him here like this, Clay had to suppress the urge to reach over and give the boy a hug. Clay suspected that he’d lash out like a wounded animal.“Yeah. I know. But what’s happened to make you….” Clay searched for some inoffensive word. “…like this?”The boy had gotten back to trying to light the blunt and was finally successful. He took a long drag and held it for a few seconds before exhaling. Clay noticed his body noticeably sag after being so tense. He paused another moment and then said almost monotonously, “Coach kicked me off the team. Three games to the state finals.”“Oh.” Sports, Clay thought. Not his strong suit. “Uh…why?” Why was he prying? Was he really trying to help or was it something else?Justin’s face scrunched up and tears formed at the corner of his eyes. “Because I’m a fuck up, ok!?” His voice cracked. “I missed too many practices and am failing too many classes. Happy!?” Clay wasn’t, and yet a perverse drop of satisfaction inexplicably mixed in with his sympathy for the boy. “I’m sorry, Justin, but…listen, we can’t stay here. What if someone sees…”“What the fuck does it matter anymore, Clay?” He took another drag.“You can come back to my place, and we can talk -”“Just leave.” His eyes looked steelily ahead.“Justin, I…”And then in an instant, he lost his composure and gave Clay the most pathetic sad puppy dog look, baby blue eyes glistening, threatening to spill over. “Leave, please.” His voice quavered as he choked up. When their eyes met it felt incredibly intimate to Clay, though Justin was obviously upset with Clay. The boy, whether he wanted to or not, was bearing his soul to Clay, who hoped his own eyes conveyed a sign of commiseration, acknowledging that whatever they were experiencing, they were going through it together - even if they couldn’t put words to it. But Clay understood then that there was nothing he could do for Justin.So he left.Heading back to the bike rack, he reflected on what Alex had said. He was right. Clay couldn’t help Justin. He thought he might know who could, and he wondered how long it would take for Justin to get there.****Alex arrived home thinking he would sneak up to his bedroom and text his dad that he wasn’t feeling well and to not expect him at dinner. But when he walked through the door, his dad was already there. “Hey son, I took off early, thought we could grab take out - What happened to you?”“It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about.”“It’s clearly not nothing, let me take a look at it. Hope the other guy looks worse.” He might have said it to cut the tension but there it was. No “Who was it?” or “Should I call the school?” The deputy sheriff expected Alex take the law in his own hands and show off the same stupid fake machismo he would have to settle his fights. Alex snapped. “No, Dad, your pathetic boy got his ass kicked without throwing a punch!” he screamed, and his father was taken aback.“Alex, what’s gotten into you.”“I’m so sick and tired of you trying to pretend I’m strong and touch. I’m not strong! I’m a weak little fag! You raised a weak, pathetic loser.” He wasn’t even thinking what he was saying. All he knew was that he wanted to hurt his father, and it was working. The officer looked like he’d been slapped in the face.“I don’t want to hear you talk like that!” he yelled, as Alex stomped up the stairs to his room. “Hey, get back here!”“Well it’s true. It’s the fucking truth!” He slammed the door to his room. And it was true. He wasn’t any better than Tyler or Justin or Clay. He had gotten too cocky gloating over their miserable states that he had forgotten his own place. Monty’s punch to the face reminded him of it. He was a weak white boy. Everyone needed to know that.His phone buzzed in his pocket. As he opened the incoming text, his eyes widened and he broke out in uncontrollable, wild laughter.****Clay sat on his bed, face pale, mouth open, looking at a photo on his phone screen. Tyler was buck-naked, on his knees, looking up into the camera which big round expectant eyes. He was leaning forward slightly causing his butt to stick out behind him, while his dick was obscured below his chest. Not that the photo lacked dick. Resting on Tyler’s obscenely wide tongue which was hanging out of his gaping mouth was the cock that Clay had become so familiar with. The cock he knew belonged to Zach. On the tip was an almost impossibly round drop of pre-cum, and the only thought Clay could muster was how sweet it must taste to Tyler. Below the photo was a short message:
“Reason # 9: Weak white boys don’t need 13 reasons. Who’s next?”
A high-pitched ringing in his ears replaced any other coherent thought. Clay stared at the screen for ages, committing every pixel to memory. Finally he got up, and walked calmly to his desk, rebooting his computer. He created a new folder on his desktop and labelled it only as “AM/wb,” and opened his internet browser and typed in “asian top white bottom gay.” He wouldn’t be getting to any homework tonight.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It had been three days since the boys had gotten that last text with the photo evidence of Tyler’s downfall. None of them had seen Tyler since then, and were only left wondering where he was or what he was experiences. No one else seemed to take much notice; the boy after all, did not have a ton of friends, and as it was the week before spring break, many students were absent - on their way to far-flung vacations with their families.
For Alex, it was more than wondering; it was fantasizing. Fantasizing about Tyler slobbering over Zach’s cock, whimpering his devotion to Asian supremacy. But the fantasies didn’t stop with Tyler. He could barely focus in class as he had practically waking dreams of Asian students rising from their desks, walking up to white boys, whipping their dicks out and forcing the white boys to go down on them, while the rest of the class carried on as if nothing happened. Or images of naked white boys on their hand and knees under and Asian student’s desk, licking their new masters’ sneakers as the Asians continued diligently take notes, impassively.
Soon, Alex thought, his tiny dick jumping happily in his pants. Alex knew he wasn’t gay. He didn’t want to date these Asian boys. Even Zach, who he knew instinctively was incredibly handsome, didn’t turn him on per se. It was submission that turned him on. The idea that all these arrogant, macho white boys would be reduced to boot-licking, cocksucking slaves to Asian masters was the most erotic thing he could possibly imagine. And yes, he put himself right there with them. He hated what he’d become. Hated what guys like Bryce Walker and his bros had made him. He was so pathetic to want their approval and acceptance. So he deserved to be right there next to them, brought down on their knees. He wanted his photo with Zach’s cock in his mouth sent to Clay and Justin, and even his brother and dad.
He knew he would submit. After seeing Tyler with Zach’s cock in his mouth, it became so much more real. No longer was it just a fantasy to rage-jerk off to when he was mad at his dad, or the assholes at school, or the world generally. Zach had really gotten one of them - claimed one of them. It wasn’t just a complicated, weird game of chicken now. Tyler had set in motion something much more profound, and whatever it was, Alex sure as shit was not going to stand in its way. Now, it was just a question of when.
***
At lunch, Alex ate alone as had become typical for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clay walking up and down the aisles. Wondering how the boy could possibly be looking for a seat when the cafeteria was half empty, Alex looked up from his sandwich and his eyes immediately connected with Clay’s; the boy had been watching him anxiously. Clay immediately turned away blushing, but Alex kept watching him, and as Clay did another loop around the room, he cautiously turned to Alex again.
This time, Alex raised an eye brow at him, silently asking from across the room, what do you want? Clay hesitated for a moment, and then walked over, sitting down cautiously, as if resting on egg shells. He looked at Tyler, half nervously, half expectantly.
Alex glared back at him, impatiently. “What is it, Clay?”
“You saw that last text, right?” Alex could barely hear his whisper over the din of lunchtime chatter.
“Text?” Clay’s dramatics were getting on his nerves, so he figured he’d make the boy spell it out.
“You know…the one with Tyler…you know…”
Alex raised his index finger to his mouth in a show of exaggerated thoughtfulness, before a look of recognition dawned on him. “Ohhh,” he exclaimed in a voice loud enough to make Clay wince. “The photo of Tyler gooning out on Zach’s big co - ”
“Jesus, Alex! Keep your voice down.” Clay frantically swiveled his head making sure no one was nearby to overhear them.
Alex smirked at him, amused. “Yeah, I saw it. What about it?”
“Don’t you think it’s time we do something?”
Here we go again, Alex thought. Just like last week at Monet’s, Clay acting like he wanted to put a stop to what was going one. Alex knew it was all bullshit. Clay couldn’t get enough of all of this even if he couldn’t admit it to himself. Now he was trying to gage how Alex was reacting to Tyler caving in to the texts, maybe to see how close Alex was to doing the same. The beating around the bush peeved off Alex, so he figured he fuck with the boy.
“Like join him?” he said, smirking and raising an eyebrow, internally delighted to see Clay grow flushed across from him.
“Alex, I’m being serious here,” he practically whined. Tyler’s been out of school for the last two days. What if something’s happened to him?”
“We know something’s happened to him, Clay. He’s given in to Asian cock.”
Clay’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. He sputtered for a second before saying, “Ok, but what if Zach is forcing him to do things…”
Alex angrily dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, quickly unlocking it and flipping through his recent messages before pulling up the photo of Tyler on his knees. For half a second he admired the composition. How, even with his mouth obscenely open, tongue hanging out, Alex could tell from his eyes, the boy was smiling with his whole face. He shoved the phone in Clay’s face. “Does that look like Tyler is being forced? That’s the face of a white boy glad to have Asian cock in his mouth.”
Clay recoiled as if Alex had just brandished a flaming torch in front of him. “Put it away!” he hissed, eyes looking up at the ceiling.
Alex scoffed, turning the phone back towards him. He studied the photo for another moment before returning the phone back to his pocket and his eyes back on Clay. It was time to make the boy get real with him. “Honestly Clay, what does it matter to you? Why do you care so much what Tyler’s doing?”
Clay’s mouth opened but nothing came out as the boy searched for an answer. When he finally spoke, he spoke slowly and carefully, “I don’t know, I…Aren’t you worried the same thing will happen to you?”
He looked at Alex meaningfully, and Alex could tell Clay was searching his face for clues as to what Alex was thinking. What he was thinking about the prospect of submitting to Zach, and maybe what he was thinking about Clay even asking. The boy was obviously projecting his own concerns, Clay wouldn’t be able to deny that with a straight face, but Alex still wanted to toy with him and thought a moment longer before cooly replying, “Why would I be worried? If it does, it will be because I chose to.”
Clay blinked, caught off-guard. “But I wouldn’t choose to do this stuff. I’m not…gay.”
“Neither am I. It’s not about being gay.” Alex let the thought hang in the air cryptically. “But ok, if you don’t want to do it, don’t. It’s really that simple.”
Clay let out a frustrated moan. “It doesn’t feel like I’m able to choose what I’m thinking anymore.”
Now finally, Alex thought, we were getting somewhere. This really was the first admission from Clay that the texts were affecting his psyche, probably to anyone. Alex felt a sense of purpose to develop these thoughts further. “Well, thinking's different. We don’t get to chose our own facts. Maybe you’re learning facts about yourself and the world that you don’t like.” He tried to sound as thoughtful as possible, and in fact surprised himself with how philosophical he could be on the spot. Then he said more gently, “But Clay, you can always choose how to respond to those facts.”
Clay looked down at the tray, and finally began picking at the food he brought over. The two sat silently for a while, Alex wishing he could know what was running through Clay’s head. Despite Clay annoying him with his earnestness, Alex found himself wanting to continue this conversation - wanted Clay to open up more about his thinking on submitting to an Asian master, even if he wasn’t fully convinced. Alex just wanted to be the one to push him further along the path to submission.
Lost in this reverie, Clay’s voice brought him back to the cafeteria. “So…are you gonna?” Alex looked up, and Clay was staring at him, sheepishly.
Alex wondered if he had missed the first part of Clay’s question. “Gonna what?”
“You know…” Clay looked down at his lap for a second and sighed. “…join Tyler?”
Alex couldn’t suppress a smile. Clay was finally being direct for once. It was odd though; while he thought he had decided he was definitely going to follow in Tyler’s footsteps, having to say it out-loud made him hesitate. When it was just in his head, he could always change his mind, but once he put it out in the world, that would be crossing a new threshold; he couldn’t live with taking it back. Clay seemed to notice him hesitating - his eyes grew slightly wider in anticipation. Maybe he was hoping Alex would hedge, so he could hold on to his hopes of resistance. Seeing those lost puppy dog eyes staring at him, looking to him for guidance, sealed it for Alex. Fuck resistance. Clay was going to learn one way or the other that there was no resisting their pathetic white boy inferiority. They would serve Asian men, and there was no way in hell Alex was going to cause Clay to submit a second later than necessary. If he was looking for guidance, Alex would be his guide. “Yes, I think I will.” He voice was quiet, but unwavering.
Alex cheered internally seeing the hope fade from Clay’s eyes his face fell. “But…why? If you’re not gay, why would you want to do something like that?”
Alex could see he was really trying to understand, because he needed to make sense of his own feelings. He spoke gently now, like talking to a child, or coaxing an animal out of a cage. “Like I said, it has nothing to do with being gay or straight. It’s just nature, Clay, and accepting one’s nature. It just seems like the right thing to do at this point.” It was all true, after all. Beneath all the anger he had felt for months now, he had absorbed the truth behind the texts without even really noticing it. He clarity he felt now saying all this to Clay almost surprised him. But now it was time to turn the mirror back at Clay. “So what about you?”
“I…I just can’t.” It was almost an apology, a guilty admission; his eyes grew damp at the edges. Alex felt a brief pang of disappoint but realized he shouldn’t be surprised Clay wasn’t quite there yet. And he knew it wouldn’t take too much longer.
Alex shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and, still chewing, pulled a strap of his backpack over his shoulder and stood from the table. Clay looked like he wanted to say something, didn’t want the conversation to end, didn’t want Alex to give up on him, but Alex had done enough work here for now. Swallowing the last bit, he said cheerily, “We’ll see, Clay. There are still four reasons left.” And then he walked away from Clay, who put his head in his hands and sat there a while longer.
*****
Alex thought on his conversation with Clay the rest of the day. He now felt an urgency to surrender to Zach, and he thought about how he might approach the Asian adonis. His heart raced in his chest as he thought about what he’d say - how he’d let Zach know he was ready to submit, but each of the scenarios he thought up felt dumb. He couldn’t believe how nervous he was - he felt ten times more anxious than when he asked Jessica out; though he supposed this was at least ten time more momentous than that distant event.
As the end of the school day approached, Alex figured he would sleep on it; he hadn’t even seen Zach the entire day, which was probably for the best. He had no idea how he’d react or what he’d say.
The last bell had rung and Alex was grabbing books from his locker. Out of his periphery, he saw the outline of a hoodied Justin approaching. Glancing towards him, Alex could see Justin was in a rough state. His head was down, and he hadn’t appeared to notice Alex, but Alex could see that the boy was still resigned in eternal mopiness.
A wicked little grin came to Alex’s face as a devious thought entered his mind. “Ni hao, Justin,” he called out, flashing a toothy smile. Justin looked up, eyes wide in surprise and confusion. Once realizing it was Alex, he let out what sounded like a mix between a growl and whimper, dropped his head again, and shuffled past him, without saying a word.
Alex chuckled and returned to the contents of his locker, whistling tunelessly.
“Someone’s in a good mood.” Alex spun around and found himself face to face with a menacing Monty. “Maybe I should give you another black eye.”
He froze. The small high he got bullying Justin vanished instantly and was replaced by cold fear. The bruise around his left eye, which still had not completely healed from its last run in with Monty’s fist, twinged in pain. He could only stare at the other boy, his mind having gone blank. When suddenly Monty jerked towards him, Alex slammed his eyes shut, bracing for hard contact.
Instead a voice boomed out like a cannon, “Back off, Monty.” In a split second, Alex registered how different it was from Clay’s simpering pleas the last time Monty assaulted him. It was a deep, resonant voice full of power. Alex knew before he opened his eyes who it was, but when he did he felt overcome by the image before him. Zach standing towering over them in his baby blue basketball tank and shorts, staring down Monty, menacingly. Alex felt a warmth wash over him that he hadn’t experienced before.
He held his breath as Monty turned from him, and sauntered over to Zach, getting in his face. He snarled, “I didn’t realize how many dudes were fucking the little - ” Exactly what Monty was about to call him was replaced by a crack as Zach’s right fist drove into Monty’s face, knocking the shorter boy off his feet. On the ground, the boy held the side of his face, in a daze, as a thin stream of blood ran from the corner of his lip.
Then Zach did something that made Alex’s mouth go dry. He stood over Monty - literally - feet planted at each side of Monty’s chest as the boy looked up at him in fear and confusion. Then, Zach reached down and took a fistful of Monty’s hair, and yanked his head upward, smashing the boy’s face into his groin. Alex’s eyes grew wide as saucers as Monty struggled to break free from Zach whose hand was now firmly behind Monty’s head holding him in place. “So much anger, Monty, when we all know what it is you’re really after,” Zach darkly whispered. Monty’s muffled cries let up somewhat and Zach continued: “Well, when you’re ready, it’s in there waiting for you.”
He tore Monty off him and the boy fell back down to the ground, looking up bewilderedly at the Asian hunk, panting and red in the face. Zach began to snicker, and Monty looked down to see he had sprung a boner. With an agility Alex wouldn’t have expected from someone who had nearly been KO’d, Monty flipped himself onto his stomach and then got his feet under him, hightailing it away from Zach and Alex as quickly as he could, leaving Zach standing, hands on hips, chuckling.
Once Monty had raced out the door leading to the parking lot, Zach turned to Alex. The smaller boy felt like a rescued damsel in distress. Zach was his hero - his savior. His black eyes bore into Alex’s soul, and Alex believed he saw the white boy in his entirety. All he was, and all he wasn’t. All his fears and desires. And right now, Alex desired nothing more than to submit. He knew the time had come; he wouldn’t get a more perfect moment than this.
It didn’t matter that they were standing in the middle of the hallway. Alex raised his hand slowly to the top button of his checkered shirt, as if in a trance, still staring into the inky voids of Zach’s eyes. He unbuttoned it, and when Zach still stood there motionless, unbuttoned the next, exposing the pale, hairless top of his chest.
He reached for the third, when Zach stopped his hand. “Not here.” His voice was gruff as he took hold of Alex’s wrist and pulled him into an empty classroom, the blond boy following dazedly behind him.
Zach pulled him to the center of the room in front of the teacher’s desk and got straight to work, circling back to the door and slamming it shut, rolling down the shades to block out the window facing the hallway before turning the lock. He then crossed the room and lowered the blinds of the windows to the outside, casting the room in shadows which only elevated Alex’s excitement and sent his heart racing faster. He felt like he should be doing something to help, but Zach was taking full control of the situation.
The Asian stud pulled out his cell phone from his shorts and appeared to fire off a couple of texts. He glanced up at Alex, who looked back at him, puzzled. “Just letting Coach know I’m going to be late for practice.” He winked, and Alex felt his heart flutter. “And some other things to take care of,” he muttered mysteriously before climbing up on the teacher’s desk and sitting down facing Alex, muscular arms holding himself up as he leaned back slightly and spread his legs giving Alex a front row view of his crotch. The blond boy gulped.
“So, I think you were in the middle of something?” Alex looked up, realizing he was staring lower than he should be. Zach was smiling at him, smugly, but it made Alex feel safe anyway. He returned a shy grin. He realized what Zach wanted him to do. For a boy who was about to undress in the middle of a hallway, he was suddenly bashful; what if Zach didn’t like what he saw? He pushed the thought out of his head. Zach had chosen him with the others. Maybe they were to be the first of many, but they were the first and that had to mean something. Plus, Alex simply wouldn’t survive Zach rejecting him at this point. It couldn’t happen. Not after he’d come all this way.
Zach raised his eyebrows expectantly, and Alex knew he better not keep him waiting any longer.
His hands were shaking slightly as his reached for the third button, and slowly made his way downward, revealing more and more of his skinny, pale torso. Once the buttons were undone, he peeled the shirt off his shoulders, placed it on a student’s desk next to him, and blinked up at Zach uncertainly.
Alex swore he saw a flick of Zach’s tongue lick his lips, and then: “Nice. Keep going.”
Alex felt his stomach do a summersault. He realized no words of praise he had earned throughout his life could match Zach’s approval of his body. With more confidence now, he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks. His body was covered in goosebumps and he shivered slightly, both from the coolness of the tile beneath his now bare feet and the air on his naked torso, but also in anticipation of the final reveal. As each piece of clothing came off, he felt he was discarding the lies he told to the world - the lie that he was a decent, smart, tough young man deserving of dignity and respect. Instead, his increasing nudity was exposing the truth: He was nothing more than a pathetic white boy loser who needed to worship at the feet of Asian alphas. Clothing gave the appearance of equal status in polite society, and Alex wanted nothing more in the moment than to reject equality. As with young children and animals, nudity signified inferiority. That’s what he sought to embrace.
He shuffled out of his skinny jeans, and tossed them to the side. Today, was wearing lose-fitting faded red boxer shorts, and even though he didn’t have much to brag about in the sex department, it was still very much obvious he was sporting a rock-solid boner. But he wanted Zach to see - wanted him to see how small he was in comparison, how inferior he was - but also see how much it turned him on to display that inferiority to Zach.
And so with a final flourish, he let his boxers fall to the floor and kicked them aside. He stood there in all this glory, or more accurately, lack thereof, looking at Zach, who wore a small smile of quiet triumph. He felt free. Free from the false masculinity he was required to emulate, however poorly he could. Free from the expectations to continue life as a normal teenage high schooler, to get good grade, to date girls, to think about college and a career. He knew what his purpose was - it was to serve the man before him. To serve the Asian race. His nude body across from Alex’s clothed one offered sharp clarity.
And yet, despite this new sense of liberation, as Alex became transfixed once more in Zach’s midnight black eyes, he felt his body become heavier. His knees began to buckle beneath him and without realizing it, he found himself kneeling on the cold floor now looking upward toward the face of his savior.
“Why are you here?” Zach wasn’t accusatory, but he was firm, and the question made Alex pause. Not what are you doing? which maybe would have been the appropriate question in any other circumstance where an ostensibly straight guy wordlessly undressed in front of you in a classroom. Why was he here? The answer seemed obvious, but then again, Alex hadn’t said one word to Zach since he punched Monty into next week. Zach wanted an explanation - wanted to hear it come from Alex’s mouth, and Alex wasn’t about to disappoint.
“I am a white boy.” It felt important to start with that. That simple truth was the foundation for everything to follow. “I’m a white boy and I believe my place is at the feet of Asian men.”
Alex waited tentatively for a reaction from Zach whose face remained inscrutable. He gave a quick nod of his head for Alex to continue.
Alex took a deep breath. “We’ve been told all our lives that we were special, and we’ve been given so much privilege, but then we go and fuck everything up.” There was an edge now in Alex’s voice. “We’re not special. We’re failures! I failed as a boyfriend, friend, son, brother.” His voice was quavering, and tears of anger stung at the edges of his eyes.
“But they all failed me too - my dad, my brother, the dumb fucking jocks. They just all have this giant sense of entitlement and walk around showing off this pretend manliness, when it’s all bullshit. No one realizes how fucking pathetic they all are.” He took a few breaths to steady himself - his voice was beginning to crack again - then continued. “But I want them to realize. I want them all to understand they’re weak and pathetic as me. I want them to know we don’t deserve control over our lives. We don’t deserve freedom. We need to be controlled so we don’t hurt ourselves and others. And only Asian men can do it. Those texts were right. Asian men are smarter than we are - they’re better than us in every way. They can bring the white boys to heel. So that’s why I’m here. I want to be an example for white boys everywhere. And I want to help you conquer as many as possible. My friends, my brother, my father; I won’t stop til every white boy has bowed down to an Asian master!”
Alex panted to catch his breath. A thin strand of pre-cum was dangling towards the ground from the tip of his dick which had never been harder. Zach’s eyes were still boring into his own, but they now seemed to emanate a smoldering heat.
“Good boy,” he finally murmured, and Alex’s chest swelled. His answer had pleased Zach - he felt like he was high. “Now why don’t you crawl over here and show your master some respect?” He hopped off the the desk and stood there, arms akimbo.
Alex practically skidded across the floor, not even registering the pain in his knees as they smacked against the hard floor. His dicklet swung back and forth dripping precum under him. When he got to Zach’s feet, he looked up, realizing he wasn’t exactly sure what his new master wanted him to do. Luckily, Zach thought for him. As with Monty mere minutes ago, Zach took the back of Alex’s head and shoved it into his groin.
Alex’s senses went into overdrive. He closed his eyes as he smothered himself in the silky softness of Zach’s basketball shorts, and quickly felt the thick tube of Zach’s cock pressed on his face through the fabric. Alex could tell it was mostly soft - though still of course larger than his own at full mast - but he could feel it begin to swell from the contact with Alex’s face. Alex felt like he was awakening an ancient power, and in that moment, he felt like his one purpose in life was to grow that cock to its full glory. Tentatively, he stuck his tongue out and ran it over the nylon where he though the tip might be, and almost instantly, the head lurched out toward him. Taking this cue, Alex eagerly opened his mouth around the mound and started to massage the shaft through the shorts with his lips and tongue. He could hear Zach’s breathing getting quicker and felt pure joy that he was able to bring this man even a drop of pleasure.
Alex’s eyes shot open at the sound of a knock at the door: two knocks, a pause, then three knocks in quick succession. Before he could look up at Zach, the jock was already moving toward the door, leaving Alex with his mouth hanging open, tongue slightly out. Zach reached to unlock the door and Alex was floored by pure panic for a fraction of a second, but then standing in the frame, looking like he had just sprinted across town, was a gasping Tyler Down.
“Did you bring the stuff?”
“Yes sir, I came as soon as you texted,” answered Tyler through his panting, handing Zach a small duffel bag. Only then did he notice Alex kneeling on the floor. His face lit up like a kid finding presents under the tree, and he let out what Alex could only describe as a gleeful yip.
He bounded into the room, practically clapping his hand in excitement. “Oh, Alex, I’m so glad you’re joining us.” Then he turned to Zach. “Just like you said, sir!”
Zach just smiled back at the scrawny boy and nodded. “Why don’t you join him, boy?” Tyler beamed back at him, and before Zach could even get the door closed and locked, he was shedding clothes like a mad man. A stray sock hit Alex in the chin. In less than half a minute, Tyler was as naked as Alex and came to kneel beside him, spinning his head back and forth between Zach and Alex, grinning like an idiot.
Alex still felt a bit shellshocked. Hardly a minute had gone by since he had his face buried in Zach’s shorts, and now Tyler was kneeling next to him, the two of them naked as on the days they were born, as Zach, still fully clothed, loomed above them. Alex’s head was spinning, and yet he felt even more turned on if that were even possible. Somehow the addition of Tyler kneeling there transformed the situation. It wasn’t just Alex and his weird, twisted mind - now there were white boys, plural, on their knees. It felt like the beginning of a movement. His dick was twitching and he saw that Tyler’s exceptionally small dick was leaking too.
“You two been very good white boys. You’ve realized your place and you were the first one to come to me. Well, Tyler did get a bit of a head start.” Zach chuckled, and Alex saw out of the corner of his eye Tyler beaming up at Zach. He felt a twinge of jealousy, wondering now why he had waited so long, when in retrospect all of this seemed inevitable.
“I guess it’s not surprising. You two are pretty prime examples of puny white boys,” he mused. “But really, you’re all the same, no matter the size. The rest of them will see things our way soon.” He winked, looking at Alex, and the blond boy swooned. There was something very intimate in what the three of them were sharing. They were on the cusp of something great, something life-changing, but right now it was the just the three of them. Dreaming. Plotting. Or, at least, admiring Zach plotting.
“But you two really are special to me. My first white boys. And I want you to know I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna be responsible for you.”
Alex’s heart swelled with pride. For the first time in months, maybe years, he felt like he was going to be ok - like he had finally done something right.
“In fact,” Zach continued, “it feels like I’m getting two new pets. That seems right, huh? White boys make pretty shitty humans but all you need is a little retraining to become the perfect docile pets for Asian men. Why don’t we start now with some training?”
He reached into duffel bag that Tyler had handed to him and pulled out what appeared to Alex to be two strips of curved black rubber, tapered at one end, with a bulb shaped like a large Christmas tree light at the other. It took him a second to realize what they were. Tails.
Fuck. Yes. Alex was elated. It was perfect. Zach was so right, why hadn’t it crossed Alex’s mind til now? They would be so much better off as pets to Asians. Pets didn’t have enough power or responsibility to fuck anything up, but they were still loved and cherished by their owners, and brought joy and happiness. It was the perfect solution.
But as Alex starred longingly at the tails, apprehension stirred within. He was going to have to put that thing inside of him. He’d never stuck anything up there before, and even though the knot didn’t seem that big, he knew it would hurt.
Zach must have noticed his nervousness because he offered, “Don’t worry, boy, we have plenty of lube and Tyler here will help you.” Tyler nodded next to him. “Now, why don’t you turn around and get on your hands and knees?”
Alex did so carefully. He felt way more exposed now than when he was just on his knees, and his teeth began to chatter. He looked ahead steadfastly, and he could hear shuffling behind him. Then, suddenly, he yelped and recoiled as he felt something cold and wet at his backside. Turning his head around, he could see Tyler on his knees with the plug of the dog tail placed at his rear entrance.
“Sorry!” Tyler giggled. “I’m gonna need you to arch your back and stick your butt up.” Alex felt his whole body blush but did as he was told. “Good, now just relax and push out.”
Again, Alex obeyed and Tyler pushed forward, wiggling the tip of the plug in a funneling motion at Alex’s hole. It was slow going; Alex’s boy hole remained shut tight to the intrusion even as Alex thought the pressure Tyler was applying felt wonderful. The curly haired boy applied more lube and continued to push, applying slightly more force until Alex could feel himself opening up just slightly enough to take the first quarter inch of the tip. He moaned quietly as Tyler continued to push, getting wider and wider. It felt like he was taking a baseball when he knew in reality the max girth of the plug couldn’t be more than and inch and a half.
Through gritted teeth he took more and more until, without warning, the peak width of the plug made it through his anal ring and the rest was sucked into his hole. Alex gasped and froze, praying that nothing was broken back there. After the pain subsided somewhat, he tentatively clenched, feeling the round intruder in his body. It actually was beginning to feel nice - he felt incredibly filled and a dull pleasure radiated from within him. His dick, which had deflated at Tyler’s assault, was beginning to rise again.
As he was becoming comfortable with the plug, he heard a prolonged high-pitched yelp from behind him and Zach chuckling. Turning around, he saw Tyler panting on his hand and knees, dog tail plug firmly planted in his ass, and Zach standing with his arms folded across his chest looking satisfied. Zach had gotten the plug in Tyler much more quickly than Tyler got Alex’s in. Alex surmised it wasn’t the first time Tyler had something up his ass.
Once Tyler had gotten comfortable, Zach reached into the bag once more and pulled out two strips of leather. “One more thing, boys. Your collars.”
Alex burst into a smile, and could see Tyler wagging his tail. He tried doing that too, but couldn’t quite get the rhythm and ended up wiggling his whole butt side to side. He’d just need more practice.
Zach chuckled again, and crouched down so the two boys could see the collars up close. They were made of simple black leather with a silver buckle and bone-shaped tag. Alex peered in closer at the tags, but couldn’t make out the engravings which seemed to be two Chinese characters on each.
“They’re your names in Chinese,” Zach explained. The he turned it over and showed them the reverse side which had even more characters. “And this says you belong to me.”
Alex could feel the weight of his tail wagging side to side faster now as Zach reached around and placed the collar on his neck. As soon as the leather touched his skin he knew this was the only thing he’d ever want to wear. Normal clothing would never feel right again. He’d feel like he were hiding his true self.
Of course he knew it wasn’t a possibility, at least not for now. He was foolish to start undressing in the hall; he realized that now. This was to be a long game. He couldn’t risk getting Zach or himself into trouble by acting recklessly. No, he was beginning to see the contours of the plan. They would have to act clandestinely for the moment, but once there were enough converts, once Zach had enough power - well, then anything was possible. Then Zach could lead him naked on a leash where ever he wanted.
Zach snapped Tyler’s collar around his neck, and looked down at his handiwork as the boy gazed up at him, lovingly.
“Ok pups, you’ve been so good, I think you deserve a treat. How about you two dig out master’s bone?” He leaned back against the desk and thrust out he groin. Alex could see the obscene bulge from a semi-hard cock through the shorts and his mouth began to water. Instinctively, he began reaching for the waistband but was stopped by Zach’s voice. “Uh uh uh, pets don’t use their hands, do they?”
Alex and Tyler looked at each other with gleams in their eyes and turned their attention to Zach’s shorts. They slowly craned their necks out and latched onto the waistband with their teeth, careful to move in unison to bring the shorts down below Zach’s rapidly expanding bulge. Then they did the same with Zach’s navy blue boxer briefs.
And there is was, in all its glory: Zach’s cock growing to its full 8.5 inch splendor. Being so up close and in person, Alex could felt downright woozy. The photo on his phone he had gazed at for hours couldn’t do the real thing justice. A tuft of trimmed black hair framed the base leading to the smooth, thick caramel shaft which lightened just slightly before blossoming to the perfectly shaped amaranth glans. The aroma which Alex got a hint of earlier buried in Zach’s shorts, was now twice as strong. It was, simply put, a manly smell. So different from the boy’s locker room, this was a mature smell. A hint of sweat to be sure, but also scents of peregrine spices and earthy soil heated by the sun. Zach was his master, his owner, but so too was this cock, Alex realized. He would serve at and for its pleasure, as well as the man to whom it belonged.
While he was lost in awe, Tyler had already started lapping up and down the shaft with his broad tongue. Alex quickly joined in, not wanting to waste any more time, and soon the two were slobbering over their bone like the dogs they were becoming.
They took turns sucking at the head, though Alex had to nudge Tyler off rather forcefully when he felt it was his turn. He savored the salty sweet precum as it coated his tongue, and took extra care to make sure his teeth were covered by his lips, a tip he’d picked up from hanging around the jocks bullshitting about their sexual conquests. At least his friendship with them had turned out useful for something. He was ambitious. He gagged often, which caused both Zach and Tyler to snicker, and at most could only get little more than half of the golden phallus into his mouth, but Zach moaned in pleasure anyway, and Alex chalked it up to one more thing he would practice at, as long as it took.
Zach’s breathing grew more jagged and he threw his head back and took hold of his cock, brushing the boys aside. “Bark for me, pups,” he breathed, and his pups obeyed. Their high pitched ruffs and yips sent Zach over the edge and he hosed both of their faces down with ropes and ropes of thick, rich cum. Alex found himself surprised by just how hot the heavy load felt on his face. Baptism by liquid fire. Impressively, Alex and Tyler were pretty evenly covered as they peered at one another, squinting so as to not get any of the cum in their eyes.
Zach slowly came down from his high and admired the job he’d done on the boys. “Best not let that Asian seed go to waste, pups,” Zach sighed, and the two boys snapped into action. They didn’t need to be told this time not use their hands. They lunged at each other, mouths open, tongues out, lapping up every drop of divine nectar Zach had deposited on them. As Alex’s tongue ran across Tyler’s cheek, he felt a newfound affection for the boy. They had never been close in school, but here, naked on their knees before this Asian stud, they were brothers at arms - they were soldiers in a brave new world. They had a shared purpose and mission - to serve Asian men and their cocks, and help Zach convert as many white boys as possible to the cause. Most importantly, they had a shared Asian master, who was going to show them, and hopefully many others, the way to a new life.
The licked off and devoured every drop of Zach’s seed in sight, and when they were done, they stared at each other’s glistening faced and then up at their master, who gazed down at them tenderly.
And then there was another knock at the door: Two knocks, a pause, then three knocks in quick succession.
****
That night, Clay dreamt again that he was sinking in quicksand. The shadowed figure above him was closer now, holding out his hand, but Clay still could not make out who the man was and was still too frightened to accept the proffered aid. Around him, through swirling winds, Clay could hear the voices of others, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying.
His alarm caused him to bolt awake, and he was again rock hard. He hazily reached for his phone, and wearily opened the new message from “Boss,” resigned to having his day ruined.
He didn’t imagine that he could be shocked anymore after Tyler’s photo and yet the new picture sent chills down his spine. It was another POV shot looking down at both Alex and Tyler who gazed up at the camera, slack jawed, tongues out, eyes glazed over, as Zach’s lofty cock perfectly bisected the space between them. Clay could discern the rubber tails sticking out from their butts and the collars that pressed into their necks. He thought, perversely, how Alex’s nearly healed black eye reminded him of the dog from Target.
And then there was the short caption: “Reason #10: Asian men take care of their pets.”
Clay’s hand shot down beneath his comforter, and before he realized what he was doing he grabbed his boner through his pajama pants and in two strokes had soaked himself in watery ejaculate.
And then came the tears.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Justin was spiraling. These last couple of days had been way too much. First, with Coach kicking him off the basketball team. Then the photo of Tyler on his knees, Zach’s cock on his tongue, followed by that batshit photo of both Tyler and Alex on all fours in bizarre doggy poses.
Then yesterday, at school - he didn’t even know why he bothered to go any more - he saw the two of them, Tyler and Alex, walking together in the halls after second period, smiles plastered to their faces. Justin had stopped dead in his tracks, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Both of them had the black leather dog collars from the photo, silver bone-shaped name-tag hanging over their tee-shirts for all the see. Tyler had his eyes set forward, and didn’t notice Justin as they walked by. But Alex caught his eye, and his smile grew wider as he gave him a small wave. It wasn’t like the smirk Alex usually gave him; no, it seemed genuinely sincere. No elements of gloating or taunting. Alex seemed genuinely…happy.
Justin couldn’t get it out of his head.
All of those images swirled through his mind as he paced the length of the Walker pool house, swinging back shots of the good liquor he had snuck from the main house.
It was starting to get a bit musty - he wasn’t exactly keeping up with a daily shower. Bryce hadn’t bothered checking in on him in a while. Besides that, Justin had been spending practically every second outside of school in the small space - drinking, smoking, sleeping sporadically. Intoxication was a necessary first step before sleeping these days; he wouldn’t do it otherwise. The nightmares were constant and he woke gasping for air, his throat closed tight, trying to expel phantom digits.
It was only mid-afternoon now, but he was hammered. Fuck Zach. His face was mixed in with the mental images of Alex and Tyler, only he definitely was smirking, and his eyes were laser-focused into Justin’s soul.
He couldn’t live like this. He couldn’t explain why he was having this reaction to seeing Alex and Tyler debase themselves in front of Zach. And he sure as hell was not gonna do any inner-reflection to find out why. But he knew he wasn’t like them. He wasn’t a fag for Asian cock. Zach used to be his best goddamn friend for Christ’s sake. Now he was fucking mindfucking him and Justin didn’t know why!
He was gonna go over there, he thought, taking another swig of vodka straight from the handle. He was gonna demand Zach tell him what the fuck was going on - demand that he cut this shit out.
He dropped the handle to the floor and let it roll away, and drunkenly ambled over to the door and threw on a pair of sneakers. He squinted stepping into the sunlight - he kept the blinds down in the pool house all day - and stumbled his way to the street.
Zach lived in the same neighborhood as Bryce, so the walk over was relatively short. Justin fumed the whole way, barely noticing where he was going, letting muscle memory guide him. He ended up in front of the doorway to Zach’s house before he even realized, and jammed his finger at the doorbell just before panic struck his body as he realized he didn’t think at all about what he was going to say to Zach.
For a fleeting instant, Justin thought about turning around and getting the fuck out of there before anyone saw him, but that plan was quickly dashed by the sound of footsteps arriving at the door.
Zach opened the door and looked down at Justin, who could only look up, frozen in place.
“Oh, hey dude. Come on in, I was just about to turn on the UNC game.” He didn’t sound surprised to see Justin show up there unannounced at all. In fact, it was like he was expecting the boy. Zach turned to walk back inside, leaving Justin momentarily at a loss for what to do. “And leave your shoes by the door!” Zach called back.
Justin took a deep breath and stepped through the threshold, kicking off his shoes without bothering to untie them, and he followed Zach to the den. Justin looked around the room while Zach fiddled with the remote trying to find the game. Expensive looking vases perched on end tables framed by dark wood wall paneling. A heavy mahogany coffee table sat in the middle of the room on top of an ornate and delicate looking rug that looked as though it had never been treaded under human feet. On top of the table a rosewood humidor emanated a rich, earthy fragrance throughout the room, a smell, Justin thought not entirely unlike Zach himself. Cozy, leather-upholstered armchairs and a couch faced an impossibly wide flat-screen tv on the wall opposite. He’d never get over how the other half lived, no matter how often he hung out in these spaces.
“There it is.” Justin glanced up at the television, as the UNC-Oregon game flickered to life in high-definition. “UNC’s gonna take it all, bro.” Zach sat down on the couch, not taking his eyes off the screen. Justin chose an armchair as far away as possible from where Zach was sitting, sunk down into it and tried to relax. He totally forgot March Madness was still happening - just another thing that went to the wayside while he was dealing with Zach’s bullshit. He swore to himself he’d bring it up before the game ended.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” A mischievous grin appeared on Zach’s face as he dug into his short pockets. He pulled out a baggie of what appeared to be red candies. “Just got this from my guy. He says it totally mellows you out.” He tossed the baggie over Justin, who managed to catch it after some initial fumbling. He eyed the edibles through the plastic with some hesitation. He really didn’t want to zonk out while the whole point of being here in the first place was the confront Zach about the texts and photos, and the mix of weed with the alcohol circulating through his body still was not gonna do him any favors. At the same time, he wasn’t one to pass up getting high, and he was feeling tense as shit being in Zach’s house right now.
He took out one of the gummies and placed it in the center of his palm, absent-mindedly tossing the bag back to Zach. Fuck it. He popped it in his mouth and let the strawberry sweetness with the telltale THC bitterness coat his tongue before swallowing. He looked back at Zach, who was stuffing the bag back into his shorts - Justin couldn’t tell if he had taken one himself.
Justin dropped back down in the armchair and tried to pay attention to the game. The two settled into a mostly easy silence, interjecting the occasional cheer at a sunk three-pointer or groan at a particularly egregious foul. Zach talked about stats from the tournament while Justin mostly nodded along.
It was all very…normal. It was the first time Justin felt “normal” in a long time - certainly the first time in months with Zach around. He was beginning to doubt the anger he thought he felt toward his Asian bro. Yes, the texts had been fucked up, but Justin still couldn’t be sure they were actually from Zach. Just something about them told Justin they weren’t. And anyway, the texts themselves weren’t the issue, right? The issue was all the other shit going on in his life. The text didn’t make him fail multiple classes, or suck at basketball. Well, no, but they got in his head, right? They made it impossible for him to focus. Or maybe they predicted what was in his head to begin with….
Oh fuck. He was high.
Justin now felt his thoughts moving around his head like waves swelling and crashing over each other. The game he was supposed to be watching seemed frozen before him. Well not frozen; the players were still moving, but the clock wasn’t ticking down.
He tried to wrest his thoughts together. The texts didn’t make Justin embarrassed of his body or his dick size compared to Zach. The text didn’t make Jessica cheat on him. But wait, that was Zach’s fault, right? That’s why he was really angry. Zach stole his girl!
The thought made him wince. Jessica wasn’t his girl. They had been fighting long before she slept with Zach. They weren’t good for each other. Well, Justin thought painfully, he wasn’t good for her. And he couldn’t blame her for choosing Zach. He was smarter than he was, bigger, sexier, a better leader.
All the things the texts said.
So, that was it? The texts were right? He’d been so angry reading them, mad at Zach - but the whole time he was really mad that he’d been exposed by the texts. And oh shit, if the texts were right about him, then what about Tyler and Alex?
He found himself frozen in his chair. He looked up at the tv screen; the game was only about 50 minutes in even though Justin felt like he’d been sitting there for hours. He knew he was still high, but he had burst out of his last thought spiral into a new lucid interim. Like being in the eye of the storm.
“So…I’m surprised Tyler and Alex aren’t here.” Why did he say that? He definitely did not want to have this conversation in this state. And yet, he held his breath waiting for Zach’s response. Would he deny knowing what Justin was talking about? Make him spell it out?
Justin kept his eyes forward but heard Zach chuckle. “Oh, they’re around here somewhere.”
In the house? Right now? Doing what? Justin’s mind began spinning again. But he pressed on.
“Pretty insane what you got them to do.”
“Not really. They came to me.” Justin forced himself to turn around. Zach looked back at him, totally casually - like they weren’t talking about the same thing. Maybe they weren’t. Justin tried to focus on what he’d just said. Maybe Zach was responding to something else? Ugh! His beating around the bush was making him more high. He had to drill into the specifics to focus himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to just come out and say what he wanted to say.
“Ok, pretty insane that you let them do that to you then.”
“Why is it insane? We all got what we needed.”
Ok. This was becoming too much. “Shit, man. Are you coming out to me?” If they weren’t talking about the same thing now, that would hopefully make it crystal clear.
“Dude. Justin. Haven’t you learned anything by now? It has nothing to do with gay or straight.”
Justin felt flushed from the condescension. “Well, it sure looked gay to me,” he spat back.
“You just don’t get it yet. That’s all right.” Zach was totally calm and just went back to watching the game.
Justin immediately regretted his back-talk. He didn’t want to end the conversation there. He still had so many questions. He needed to keep talking through this.
“But, I want to get it. I want to get what’s going on!” He hated how desperate and whiney he sounded right now.
Zach glanced back at him and smiled, and Justin immediately got the feeling he was caught in some kind of trap.
Zach patted the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come over here so we can talk this out, Justin.”
The boy hesitated. They could talk from this distance fine, couldn’t they? Come on, Justin thought, it’s Zach. What exactly was he afraid of? Anyway, he always had this weird habit of doing what he was told when he was high. He slowly lifted himself up from the armchair and walked over to the couch, but sat on the opposite side from Zach, still leaving a cushion between them. Zach kept smiling at him. Friendly.
“So, what do you want to know?”
Justin thought for a second, then said, “What do you mean, Tyler and Alex are getting ‘what they need’?”
“Think about a stray dog. What’s it’s life like?” Justin looked back at him blankly, not sure where this was going. “It’s cold, hungry all the time, dirty. Yes, it can survive, but it’s miserable. It needs a home and an owner to take care of it. Yeah, thousands of years ago, it may have dominated in the wild, but that’s been bred out of it. Once it finds a home, it learns to love the owner and the owner is happy too!”
God, why was this making so much sense to him. Justin used every ounce of mental energy to claw together a counterpoint. “Ok…but Tyler and Alex aren’t actually dogs. They’re boys.” Was that even right? Another wave of highness was enveloping his brain making him more confused.
Zach shrugged as if he disagreed. “They’re white boys. The point is fighting your nature just makes you miserable. Tyler and Alex decided to stop fighting.”
“And…you think I’m like them?” Justin’s voice quavered and tears were starting to form in his eyes.
Zach frowned sympathetically. “It’s not about what I think, bud. It’s just about how things are. Come on, Justin. Look at yourself. Look at your life. How are you any better off than Tyler and Alex? You got kicked off the basketball team, the last thing you had going for you. You couldn’t keep your girlfriend. And dude, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of really dumb. Like, even for a white boy. Tyler and Alex were at least average in that department.”
Tears were now rolling down Justin’s face as Zach’s words reverberated in his head meshing with his own thoughts until his own thoughts spoke with Zach’s voice, repeating the taunts over and over again.
“And buddy, you literally sleep in a small house in the backyard of your friend's. Come on, Justin, you’re literally the stray dog of white boys.”
“But…but,” Justin gasped through tears. “I’m not a dog. I’m a boy!” It was such a bizarre thing to say, but he couldn’t tell why that was; the weed wasn’t letting him think straight. Was it crazy because it was obvious he was a boy, or was it crazy because all the evidence pointed to him being a dog? “I don’t want to be your pet. We’re supposed to be friends!”
“Dude, we can be so much more than that. You could be man’s best friend.” He chuckled slightly, then added: “Asian man’s best friend.” This wasn’t hugely comforting to Justin, who dissolved into more sobbing.
Zach let him carry on for a few moments, then: “Buddy, please stop crying, and look at me.”
Justin wiped his eyes taking deep gulping breaths and looked up at Zach who had turned his body to face him on the couch, just as another wave of high hit him. It was as if Zach were appearing to him in high definition, every strand of hair, every curvature of muscle accentuated. Justin noticed for the first time how what Zach was wearing - a white tank top framing broad shoulders and stretching out just above perfectly bulging pecs, and red gym shorts revealing mammoth quadriceps - would, on anyone else, clash with the stuffy design of the room they sat in, but Zach made it perfectly natural looking. He dominated the space.
Justin gulped again, and slowed his breathing.
“Justin, I want you to be honest with me. Do you really think you can take care of yourself?”
The thin boy peered at the Asian hulk through bleary, wet eyes. There was no sense lying now. Not to himself or Zach. Zach saw exactly what he was.
“No,” he croaked out in a whisper. “I can’t. I’m fucked up.”
Zach smiled, warmly, but also with a hint of satisfaction at having gotten through. “Most white boys are fuck ups. That’s why they need an Asian man to take control.”
Now Zach was the one not getting it, Justin thought, feeling bile rise within him. But he really was done lying. “No, it’s not like with Tyler and Alex. I’m. Fucked. Up,” he repeated, his voice hitched. “I’m broken. I don’t even deserve to be taken care of.” He was shaking now, his eyes downcast unable to even look at Zach.
“Why would you say that?” Justin heard in Zach’s voice that he recognized this went even beyond what they had been talking about - that this was something Zach hadn’t expected. Justin hiccuped a few times as his breathing got ragged - he couldn’t bring himself to answer.
“Come over here, Justin.” Zach’s voice was firmer now, and Justin’s weakened emotional and mental state made any resistance he had toward Zach crumble. He shuffled onto the cushion next to Zach still not daring to look up. He was close enough now that he could take in Zach’s scent, clean and warm, and it made him embarrassed to think he was sitting so closely to Zach unshowered. But then he felt a large thumb and the edge of an index finger pull his face upward until it was mere inches from Zach’s and he could focus on nothing but Zach’s ink-black eyes that were clinically scrutinizing Justin’s scrunched face.
“Tell me why you said that.”
And Justin did. It just came out, things that he never said out loud, things that he tried desperately for years to forget. His mom’s white trash meth-head boyfriend. His five-year old body violated by course and calloused hands. The dirty fingers in his mouth. He said all these things but he couldn’t even hear himself over the rushing sound in his ears. He only felt his mouth moving.
And then it stopped moving when it smashed into Zach’s bare shoulder as the larger jock enveloped his entire body in the tightest hug he’d ever experienced from anyone in his life. And as the rushing sound left his ears all he could hear was his muffled sobbing into the crook of Zach’s neck.
Zach rubbed his back, gently hushing him as Justin kept his eyes firmly shut, trying to prevent soaking the taller teen. He had no idea how long he cried in Zach’s arms - his temporal perception shot from the weed.
At some point though, after Justin had calmed down somewhat and the sobs subsided to sniffles, Justin could feel Zach gently lift his body off his own, though he still kept his eyes shut, too ashamed by what he had revealed to look Zach in the face.
And then something happened that made Justin’s mind go up in flames. He felt two fingers slip their way through his slightly open lips and come to rest on his tongue. His body tensed up. He didn’t know what to do. The drugs, the emotional catharsis had taken so much out of him, he couldn’t resist. All the sudden, he was five again, and filled with the same confusion, shame and panic he felt all those years ago.
“Justin, look at me.”
He didn’t want to - couldn’t understand why Zach was doing this, but, like his five year self, he obeyed. Slowly, his eyes opened, taking in nothing but Zach. And it was like a switch had been flipped, and a giant convergence took place within him. He was still that five year old boy, but instead of facing his mother’s gross druggie boyfriend, he was looking into the eyes of this beautiful Asian man who was smiling softly back at him. It was as if the image of the white trash junkie had been wiped from his mind and replaced with this god of a man. The panic had subsided, and was replaced with a sense of peace. Zach wasn’t going to hurt him; Zach loved him. And he loved Zach. All the anger, all the pain he’d felt at the hands of the Asian jock had vanished. Whatever Zach’s methods for getting Justin to this point, he now understood Zach knew what was best for him.
Slowly, he started sucking on the fingers.
“That’s a good boy,” Zach hissed, and Justin sucked deeper. Zach’s digits were nothing like the pervert’s were all those years ago - not clammy and bitter and acidic - just a hint of saltiness, but otherwise warm and clean.
“You know Justin,” Zach started, looking fondly at the boy. “You do deserve to be taken care of. You deserve so much more than what the white trash in your life have given you. They couldn’t help you. They only know cruelty and destruction.” Justin kept sucking, subconsciously absorbing all Zach was saying. “But maybe you’re right: Maybe you’re not a pet - at least not yet.”
Justin’s ears perked up hopefully. At this point, he would follow Zach into the depths of hell, but he still couldn’t think of himself as Zach’s pet.
“No,” Zach continued, “you’re just a little boy, aren’t you? The world wants you to grow up, but you haven’t been given any of the care, any of the nurture to know how. You can’t make any decisions for yourself; you need me to show you the way. Isn’t that right, Justin?”
It was right, Justin thought. Zach saw exactly what he was. Here had been pretending to be a man all this time, but had zero idea what that even meant; he had no real examples in his life. But now he had Zach, and Zach understood him. Understood what he was capable of and what he was incapable of. Zach would be his savior, his guide, his . . . .
“What was that, boy?” Justin had garbled something inaudible with Zach’s fingers still in his mouth, and Zach pulled them out, leaving Justin missing the feel on his tongue - the comfort they gave him.
“Yes, Daddy.”
It was what Justin had been missing all his life - was what he needed, and the words just tumbled out of his mouth organically. He barely even recognized his own voice. It was so soft and meek, but felt like the right way to address the man before him. A cheer erupted from the game still playing on the tv screen, and Justin couldn’t help but feel like the cheers were for him, recognizing his place. Zach beamed back at him triumphantly, and Justin knew what he said was right.
“Good boy,” he snarled, his voice tinged with lust, and instead of moving to place his fingers back in Justin’s mouth, he instead reached down into the waistband of Justin’s shorts and made his way to Justin’s nether regions, making the boy gasp out loud. He was surprised to find that he was hard - he hadn’t even noticed, but it must have happened while Zach’s fingers were buried in his mouth. He let out a squeaky moan as Zach wrapped the two saliva-coated fingers around his boy member and gently started stroking up and down.
“Tell Daddy what he’s doing to you,” Zach hoarsely whispered.
Justin’s eyes were closed again in pleasure. “He’s…he’s touching me…” he panted.
“Touching what, Justin. Use the right words, little boy.”
“Daddy’s touching my…my peepee.”
It was the word he used for his little boy part back when he was five and it felt right to use them now, though he could feel his face turn red.
“Mmm, that’s right, baby boy. Daddy makes you feel good, doesn’t he?” Justin could only whimper and nod, his mind shot to a million pieces.
After a few more strokes, Zach removed his hand and said, “Now, Justin, why don’t you get out of those silly big boy clothes and sit on the floor in front of Daddy. Little white boys like you are too dirty to sit on the furniture until Daddy has a chance to clean you up.”
Justin blushed again but knew Daddy was right. He shouldn’t be sitting on Daddy’s couch in his dirty clothes. He carefully got up, trying to keep his balance, still feeling a bit woozy. Self-consciously, but still keeping his eyes on Zach, he lifted his shirt off his head and shimmied out of his shorts. He hesitated in his boxers, standing bashfully before Zach.
“Undies too, Justin. They’re not appropriate for little boys.”
Shivering, Justin reached down and let the boxer shorts fall to the ground. He didn’t bother covering himself up, knowing Daddy wouldn’t like that.
Zach looked pleased. “Looks like you have a little white boy peepee to match your little white boy brain, huh?
Justin could only nod, mouth having gone dry. He had always been embarrassed by his size; now he understood how appropriate it was that he was so small. Little boys had little peepees.
Then Zach spread his legs, and pointed between them, gesturing for Justin to sit, which he did indian-style, the hard wood floor feeling chilly on his naked buttocks. He looked up at his new Daddy.
Zach adjusted himself so that he was now sitting up straight over the edge of the couch, towering over Justin. “Now, Justin. You’ve been a very good little boy, doing what Daddy tells you. But you haven’t been a good boy up til now, have you?”
Justin frowned in confusion. What did he mean?
“Up til now, you thought you were a big boy, didn’t you? You thought you were equal to Daddy. In fact, you were mad at Daddy when all he was trying to do was show you who you really were. Isn’t that right, Justin?”
The tears started to well up again. Zach was right, of course. Justin had thought he was equal to him, had come over here to yell at Daddy, even though Daddy just wanted what was best for him - knew what was best for him, when Justin himself had no idea.
“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry. I didn’t know better.” He was ashamed with himself for going against Daddy Zach. “I’ll never do it again.”
“I really hope not, Justin. But little boys need to be punished for disobeying Daddy, don’t they?
“Punished?” Justin looked up nervously.
“Yes, Justin. Punished, so they don’t disobey Daddy again. I want you to get up and bend over my knee here.”
Justin stared at Zach, mortified, but with a quick glare from Zach, hopped up and did what he was told. He positioned himself so that his butt cheeks were level with Zach’s right knee and his elbows were able to sit on the armrest of the couch. He braced for what he knew was coming.
When Zach’s palms made first contact with his cheeks, the sound of the slap rang in his ears before he even felt the sharp sting. Tears fell from his eyes, more from embarrassment than pain, though it certainly hurt too, as Zach continued spanking his former best friend.
“You’re not gonna disobey Daddy anymore, right? You’re not gonna resist anymore. You’re gonna do exactly what Daddy tells you to do from now on, because Daddy know what’s best for little white boys like you,” Zach said firmly over the spanks.
“Yes, Daddy,” Justin whimpered, knowing he’d never question Zach again.
After maybe a dozen and a half spanks, Zach stopped, and rubbed his palm on Justin’s bare bum, admiring his work. “That’s the best thing about white skin, so easy to mark.” He chuckled. “Now back on the floor, Justin, on your knees so you don’t hurt your tushy.”
Justin sniffled and lowered himself to the floor, wiping the tears from his face. His butt burned and yet his peepee was still rock hard, a thin strand of precum dangling down.
“I’m sorry I had to do that, Justin. But that was me spanking away the old you. The new you is gonna be a good little boy for Daddy, right?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Justin lisped softly. He would be good. That maybe was all he could ever be, and he was gonna make his Daddy proud.
“Good. Now, I want to teach you another lesson about a big difference between Asian daddies and little white boys.”
With that, he lowered the waist band in the front of his gym shorts and out popped his thick, long penis, not completely hard, but still well over seven inches. Justin’s mouth dropped open. He of course had seen the photos and had tried to avoid staring at it soft in the shower all these years, but now up close and personal, he was awed.
“Does this looks like your little boy peepee?” Zach said derisively. Justin could only shake his head no. It was nothing like his boy parts.
“This is Daddy’s cock. Asian men use their cocks to control little white boys like yourself.” He said, gripping the cock from the base and waving it at Justin. “Go ahead, touch it.”
Justin moved closer, and tentatively reached out, his fingertips coming into contact with the silky skin of the shaft. He could see it growing more - it felt alive, powerful. He wrapped his hand around it, barely able to get his fingers all the way around. Zach sighed, and said, “That’s it boy, up and down, just like that.”
Justin stroked a bit more before noticing a pearl of precum peaking out from the hole on the tip. Zach apparently noticed Justin looking at it: “That’s Daddy’s special Asian juice. Why don’t you wrap your lips around Daddy’s cock and see how much you can get out?”
All thoughts of resistance had left. The old Justin who would have been horrified at this perverse tableau taking place was snuffed out. Without even a second thought, Justin raised himself on his haunches, eyes never leaving Zach’s, as he lowered his mouth onto the tip of the cock, savoring Daddy’s sweet nectar. Zach placed his hand on the back of Justin’s head, gently pressing down, encouraging the boy to take more. Justin fell into a hypnotic rhythm as more and more of the giant cock made its way into his mouth and down his throat. He felt like he was being pacified, like a baby with its bottle, the cock giving him a profound sense of peace and security. It was a hundred times better than fingers, he felt truly at one with his Asian Daddy.
The cock got so far in his throat that he began sputtering and coughing. Zach laughed and pulled Justin off as the boy gasped for air. Zach gently slapped his cock against Justin’s cheeks as the boy breathed deeply still staring into Zach’s eyes, his own now glazed over in lust.
“We’re gonna have so much fun, aren’t we, Justin? I have so much to teach my little boy.”
Justin, getting control of his breath, contemplated the man above him. The man who had so thoroughly changed his life in the course of perhaps no more than an hour and a half. Who had so thoroughly altered his mind, making him see the truth about himself and the world. Of course, he saw now that the groundwork had been laid for months, even though he had been resisting all this time. The texts, Zach’s actions, even his own responses had been carefully coordinated to get their important message through Justin’s thick skull. And it all worked, eventually. He knew he was only a dumb little white boy now, always had been. He knew he had so much more to learn, and he was done resisting his lessons. There wasn’t another second to waste.
“Yes, Daddy.” And with that, he dove back onto Zach’s cock, slurping down as much as he could.
*******
Hours later, Clay was mindlessly jacking off to a video of a buff Asian porn star pounding a moaning white twink when his phone buzzed.
Annoyed he opened the message without even looking who it was from, and his frustration was instantly forgotten.
In the photo message, Zach and Justin were nude resting on the edge of what appeared to be a four-poster bed. Well Zach was resting on the bed. Justin’s feet were on the bed, but he was squatting over Zach’s body, Zach’s thick cock buried firmly in his ass, as Justin balanced himself holding what appeared to be a crossbar between the bed’s posts.
But it wasn’t the lewd position the two were in that shocked Clay the most. No, instead it was the look on their faces. Justin stared straight into the camera, but Clay could hardly believe the face belonged to the same boy he had known. Rather than the angsty pout that seemed permanently plastered to Justin’s face these past few months, Justin was now beaming so genuinely that it was as though he had never experienced a single moment of pain or suffering in his life. The transformation was unreal.
And Zach was staring into the camera as well (Clay thought fleetingly that someone else must be taking it, maybe Tyler or Alex), but his face was slightly shrouded in shadow, making his features appear darker and more menacing. He wore a triumphant smirk, as if he recognized he had conquered the toughest white boy of the group and that all resistance was futile.
Clay must have blacked out somehow staring at the photo because when he came to, his stomach was covered in cum but he couldn’t remember blowing his load. It was then he saw the message accompanying the photo:
"Reason #11: Happiness comes with submission to Asian men."
The look on Justin’s face - pure happiness. Who was Clay to argue?
The truth was, Clay never really attempted to argue. He saw that now. There was no argument. He was never gonna win this fight, and now that Justin had fallen prey, he had no one to reassure himself that resistance was still possible. It was time to stop prolonging the inevitable.
Pausing only a moment, he typed out a short message in reply to the text:
“You win.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Clay raced his bike across town, heart pounding in his chest. Was he really about to do this? What exactly was this anyway? “Boss” had texted him back in less than two minutes while he was still in his bedroom studying the image of Zach fucking Justin: “223 Cherry Drive. Midnight. Don’t be late.” A quick google search confirmed the address was the Butler residence. Midnight would give him less than a half-hour to get across town. He wiped the cum off his stomach, threw on a hoodie and jeans, quickly memorized the quickest route to the address, and quietly crept out of his house; his parents were still up, watching tv in his bedroom, but hopefully they were down for the night. Now on his bike, gaining further and further distance from home, he finally had a chance to think about what he was actually doing. He felt like he’d been moving in a fugue state since getting Boss’s instructions. There wasn’t even a moment where he questioned whether he would sneak out of his house in the middle of the night and go over to Zach’s place. It was frightening, thinking about how much had changed - how much he had changed. He thought about how these past few months had shifted his perception of factual reality, his sense of morality, and yes, even his sexuality. There was no denying it now. Not when he practically had been rubbing himself raw the last few days watching Asian muscle hunks bone white guys on the internet. But what was so fascinating to Clay (even now he still couldn’t help but philosophize over his entire situation) was how each aspect of his gradual submission fed into the other. How he couldn’t tell, if he were being honest, which started first: did his realization in Asian superiority lead him to popping boners every time he thought of bowing down to them (which was constant), or did some aspect of latent sexuality he had never consciously considered before lead him to accept his inferiority? And did it matter? He knew for sure now he was a true believer in Asian supremacy, and a believer in the corresponding moral imperative to serve the Asian race. And, he knew he was incredibly horny, all the time now. What difference did it make if his brain was rewiring his dick or his dick rewiring his brain? Mind and body - he was all in. He was all in, right? He was, after all, hurling himself forward in the dead of night towards Zach’s home. To do what exactly? To turn himself over. Really, that’s what he was doing - surrendering himself. It sounded extreme, thinking of it like that, but it was extreme, and there was no going back now. But then when Clay thought about what that looked like, what that truly meant, it was still fuzzy. Could he really do what Tyler and Alex did? What Justin did perhaps mere hours before? He had trouble picturing himself in those positions, and that worried him, even if there was only a thin sliver of remaining doubt. But now he swerved onto Cherry Drive, his eyes scanning the houses for the right address. 217…219…221…. There it was. Clay knew Zach’s family was wealthier than most in town, but the house felt especially large and imposing, probably in part because he knew what awaited for him inside. He hopped off his bike, and he felt particularly conscious of having to lift his legs - which now suddenly felt leaden - taking one step in front of the other as he rolled the bike over to a bush and ditched it behind the branches. He looked back up at the house. A dim light shown through one of the windows on the first floor, coming from some interior room within, but otherwise, the home was dark and still. Just as he was thinking that he couldn’t just knock on the front door or ring the door bell and would have to send a text to ‘Boss’ alerting him to to his arrival, the porch light turned on, and the front door opened, no more than three inches, spilling more light into the night. No one stepped out. Clay could feel his blood pumping in his ears as he approached the door, his vision tunneling. He pushed the door in with a trembling hand and blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the light. But visual clarity only led to more confusion. For a second, he thought he must have come to the wrong home - this wasn’t making sense. “Tony? What are you…what are you doing here.”The shorter latino got up from the chair he was waiting in and crossed the foyer. He stood in front of a still shell-shocked Clay whose mouth was slightly hangin open, and scanned the taller boy’s face, his own expression inscrutable. After a moment, a smile curled on his lips - soft, sad even, and he pulled Clay into a tight hug. Still confused, Clay wrapped his arms around his best friend. Besides confusion, he could feel other emotions well up inside him, too entangled to isolate and identify. Mixed in with all that emotion too was a growing recognition of what was going on. Tony pulled himself out of the embrace and the two boys stood looking the other in the eye. “I’m here to help you, Clay. Like I always do.” ***FLASHBACK TO 34 MINUTES EARLIER*** Tony had been lying in bed at home, burner phone in hand, admiring the photo he had taken of Zach banging Justin just a few hours before which he had just texted out. Even he couldn’t believe how far they’d come - how easy it had been. He loved the photo’s composition, how Justin looked so peacefully content with Asian cock buried in his ass, contrasted with Zach’s visage of concentration and power. The lighting was such that Justin’s body was bathed in light, while Zach’s was in shadows making the contrast between the two bodies even more strong and cloaking Zach in an air of mystique. Then — a text from Clay. “You win.” Holy shit. It was happening. Tony shot up from his bed. He waited another 30 seconds or so to see if Clay would write anything else, but nothing further came. Fuck. He had meant for Clay to sit with the photo for the night, maybe even a few days before responding, letting it marinate his mind. The fact he responded almost immediately was a good sign - great, even - that things were progressing even more than Tony believed, but Tony now thought he might have been better off waiting to send it until morning. Well, no turning back now. He needed to act quickly if this was gonna happen tonight. He set aside the burner phone, and grabbed his usual cell, firing off a text to Zach: “Clay just responded to the Justin photo. I think we got him. Wanna hold off til the morning? Already been a big day.” Tony really hoped he wasn’t already sleeping, but he breathed a sigh of relief when the ellipsis bubbles popped up on the phone after a few seconds, indicating Zach was typing. “No. Stick with the plan. Can be ready in 30 minutes. You can make it right?” Tony let out a silent cheer. He had wanted this for so long, no fucking way he’d miss it. “Yes. Be there in 20.” Tony jumped off the bed and threw on a shirt and slacks. A ping from the bed let him know Zach sent him another text: “Ok. Front door’s open. We got this.” Tony had to smile. He couldn’t believe how far Zach had come either. That might have been what he was most proud of because that really was all Tony. He grabbed the keys to his mustang and headed outside. Now, when everything was finally coming together, his thoughts couldn’t help but to wander back to how this had all began. **** It had started back near the beginning of the school year. One of his cousin’s regular mules was missing in action so Tony was conscripted to make some pot deliveries around town. Obviously, riding around town at dusk making drug deliveries to upper class douches was not Tony’s idea of a fun Tuesday night, but it did beat getting his ass kicked by his cousin’s posse, and at any rate, he’d at least get a (very small) cut. So he drove around town for a few hours making deliveries. The clientele were mostly on the younger side, grad students at Sanderson U., hometown stoners, a group of giggly high school seniors excited for their very first high. Occasionally, an older ex-hippie would be thrown into the mix. As Tony drove further from his family’s place, the houses grew larger, the fences taller, the lawns more manicured. He found himself in front of a house perhaps just a parapet shy of being a mansion, and inwardly groaned. How the other half lives. He sent a text to the customer letting him or her know he was waiting out front. He sat for moment, eyes closed, breathing in the crisp autumn air, imagining what life would be like had he grown up in this neighborhood. The sound of a door opening brought him back to reality, and he could see a tall figure emerging from the house and crossing the lawn making his way toward the Mustang. Holy shit. Zach fucking Dempsey. Zach looked furtively down the street as he approached Tony’s car. This probably wasn’t his first time buying weed, Tony thought, but he definitively wasn’t experienced at it. He was half way across the street when he finally noticed who was in the driver’s seat of the car, eyes widening slightly in surprise, then looking a bit sheepish. “Oh, hey. Tony, right?” They’d been going to the same school together for the last 10 years, but sure, fine; they didn’t hang out in the same circle. “Yup.” “Zach. From school.” Dude, I know who you are, Tony thought inwardly rolling his eyes. Still, gotta be nice to the customer. “Yea, man, how’s it going.” “Oh, you know. Parents are away. Thought I could use a little de-stressing.” He chuckled getting back that sheepish look. “But I guess you know I’m not over 18.” Now Tony couldn’t help but chuckle. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” he said, fishing for Zach’s order. They made the exchange; typically, Tony would be more careful and ask the customer into the car, but there was no way any cops were patrolling this neighborhood. “Well,” he smiled politely up at Zach. “Pleasure doing business with ya.” Zach hesitated a moment, still leaning on the open window frame. “Hey, would you want to come inside and hang, maybe?” Tony had to suppress a scowl. He wasn’t a street rat who needed Zach’s kindness. “Nah that’s ok, you don’t need to do that.” “No, really,” Zach chimed in quickly. “I actually really don’t like smoking alone and an empty house gets lonely. Plus I have tons of food.” He beamed at Tony, somewhat goofily. Tony thought a moment. Zach was his last delivery, and he could blow off some steam. Plus, he wasn’t gonna lie, Zach was a total hunk and often the subject of certain fantasies he kept to himself. And after all, there was nothing wrong with getting some eye candy for the next couple of hours. Fuck it. “Alright, sure. Thanks, man.” Zach’s smile grew even wider as Tony made his way out of the car, and the two walked into the house. Perhaps he had misjudged Zach, Tony thought. He had always, as a rule, mostly ignored the idiot antics of the jocks at school, and that went doubly for the ones with rich parents. But, thinking on it, Zach was never in the foreground of the jocks’ usual nonsense. “Shoes off,” Zach said as they walked through the front door. And then, after a beat: “Sorry, Asian rules. He said it almost as if he were embarrassed, and Tony felt a prick of annoyance that Zach would even feel the need to apologize. “Nah, it’s cool. Makes sense.” Tony kicked off his sneakers, and followed Zach through the house - one of the nicest he’d been in in his young life. First, they made their way to the kitchen, replete with an executive chef’s island and grabbed as many snacks as their arms could carry. Then, they headed to a finely appointed den, Zach plopping himself down on a leather couch as he fished into the draw of an end-table and pulled out a glass pipe. As he packed it with the weed he had just purchased from Tony, he patted the cushion next to him, beckoning Tony over. Producing a lighter from nowhere, he lit the pipe and took a big hit, and Tony had to suppress a laugh as the jock succumbed to a few wheezy coughs as he passed the pipe to the shorter Latino boy; he had clearly done this before, but not very often. Tony took a hit of his own, and the two teens settled down into the cushions waiting for the high. Soon enough, bags of chips popped open and the sound of munching filled the room. Luckily for the both of them, Zach and Tony were both talkative stoners and the conversations veered wildly from astute observations to the nonsensical. “Dude, I’m having so many thoughts right now. What if you could think everything at the same time?” Zach said, staring wildly at Tony. The Latin boy chuckled. “That’s crazy, how would that even happen?” “You know how they say you only use 10% of your brain? But if you used all of it, maybe you could break through the barrier and think all things at once.” “The all-thought,” Tony nodded. “Dude, exactly. The all-thought. You’d probably go crazy, man.” Zach closed his eyes and threw his head back against the sofa. “Yeah…” Tony felt a ping of dread at the thought, but then Zach bursts into laughter, and Tony erupted in giggles as well. “You know who’s super cute, dude,” Zach launched into a totally new subject. “That new girl in school, Hannah Baker. Have you met her?” “I’ve seen her around,” Tony started noncommittally. He really didn’t want the convo to enter into girl territory. “I think my friend Clay has a major crush on her.” “Ah, yes, Jensen. He would.” There was a hint of snark in Zach’s voice, but Tony didn’t press. “You know who I’ve always had a huge crush on? Jessica Davis. She’s so fine, man.” Tony silently sighed. “Uh, yeah, she’s uh…very pretty.” “Pretty?” Zach snorted, and Tony blushed. Was that no longer a respectable adjective for a girl? “Tony, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but are you gay? You’re just kind of giving me that vibe, and I’m pretty good at figuring out that sort of thing.” Tony’s body tensed up and he felt a surge of panic, intensified by the weed which also prevented him from forming a coherent denial. “I umm…I mean…I.” Zach just laughed again, and wrapped his arm around Tony, bringing him in for a side hug. Tony was equal parts mortified and confused as his head was nestled against the side of Zach’s pec. “I knew it, man. Dude, it’s totally fine with me, no worries little bro.” Tony was glad his dark complexion hid his blush as he slowly pulled away from Zach’s embrace, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude at the taller boy’s chill. He tried to say something, but still couldn’t reach the right words. Zach had already moved on though. “So, yea, Jessica is verrrrry pretty. But Justin Foley’s been making moves on her. Man, fuck these white boys, right?” He laughed some more. “maybe literally in your case,” he winked at Tony. Tony’s heart beat deeply in his chest. Some combination of the weed, mixed with the thrill of now being out to someone, gave Tony a sudden swell of courage to say something he only thought about in the silence of his bedroom. But he felt a new intimacy with Zach on that couch, a classmate who had invited him into his home, shared his weed, and had seen into Tony’s being. And had now made a comment - perhaps off the cuff - but which spoke to their shared sense of otherness in a predominantly white, affluent town. Here goes nothing, he thought. “Sometimes I do imagine them fucked.” He spoke in a hushed tone just above a whisper. “Not like a specific one, but like, all of them. To put them all in their place.” He looked over at Zach, whose eyes were closed, resting his head against the back of the sofa. Tony held his breath, hoping he hadn’t gone too far and screwed things up, but he let out a sigh of relief after a moment when he heard from Zach what could only be described as a supportive hum. Floored with confidence, Tony continued, needing to see how much further he could go with divulging these secret fantasies - how far he could bring Zach along with him. “They just take everything, you know? And they treat us like shit. I mean, I don’t know how it is with you, but they’re always trying to put me down, ya know? Make me feel like I don’t belong.” “Yeah, bud. I know exactly what you mean.” Tony - relieved that he wasn’t losing Zach - continued with more urgency. “And you know why they do it, right, Zach? It’s because they’re afraid of us. Afraid of what we could do to them. They know subconsciously that they’re weaker. They know they wouldn’t stand a chance if we wanted to take control.” Zach chortled approvingly. “So why don’t you then? Find a nice gay white boy and take control of him? That Ryan Shafer dude would probably be down.” Tony bristled, “No man, that would be too easy. I’m talking about turning straight white boys.” Zach whistled lowly, impressed. “You’re one wild kid, Tony. That’s something I’d pay to see, no homo,” he chuckled. Now here was Tony’s chance to land the plane. He’d have to be extremely cautious, and he chose his words carefully. “Nah, it can’t be me. It’d never work. I just don’t have that dominant streak, plus Latinos have too close a relationship with the whites. They’re too familiar with us.” This was it. It was now or never. “Asians on the other hand…” Zach snorted. “Keep my people out of your fantasies, man,” he joked. “Think about it, Zach. There’s no group whitey fears more than the Asians. They already think you’re all smarter than them, and they’re all terrified China’s gonna lead Asia to take over the world. And they’re right to be afraid.” “Well that may all be true.” Zach’s eyes were still shut, but he had a growing smile on his face. “But I have no interest in fucking white boys. Or any boys. Sorry, bro.” “Everything in life is about sex, Zach. Except sex. Sex is about power,” Tony said conspiratorially. “Are you quoting House of Cards at me?” Tony laughed. “Well, they were quoting Oscar Wilde, but yes. My point is, it’s not about having sex with white boys; it’s about exerting your authority over them. Showing them who’s boss. There’s nothing gay about it.” “Not that there would be anything wrong with it if it were. I just am not,” Zach muttered quickly. “Yeah, thanks.” Tony felt like Zach was reacting to this way better than a worst-case scenario, so he soldiered on. “Think about it, though. Think about what all these dumb white boys have put you through. And you know you’re so much better than them. You know it, I know it, and most importantly, they know it. They deserved to get fucked by you.” Zach was silent now, as his eyebrows furrowed, but Tony’s heart leapt when he saw subtle movement in Zach’s shorts around the crotch region. “Yea man, they deserve to get fucked by a superior Asian hunk, and once you do, you can take their women too. Hannah Baker, Jessica Davis, whoever you want. There won’t be anyone to stand in your way.” Holy shit, it was actually working. Zach absent-mindedly lowered a hand to his gym shorts and squeezed his expanding package through the fabric. “You can fuck their women right in front of them, and there won’t be anything they can do about it. They’ll just have to kneel at your feet - they’ll be your servants. No, your slaves!” “Slaves?” Zach was breathing deeply now, and Tony could could hear the lust in his ragged exhales. “They can be whatever you want them to be. Slaves, sex dolls, hell you could keep them as pets if you wanted.” Tony was maybe pushing his luck now, but fate smiled down on him when he heard Zach take a sharp intake of breath as his hand plunged beneath the waistband of his shorts. So, he mused, Zach maybe had a pet kink; this was gonna be interesting. He threw caution to the wind. “Yeah dude. You can turn them into mindless fucking dogs. Crawling around on all fours, collars around their necks saying they belong to you, yipping happily while you fuck their girlfriends, wagging their tails whimpering for you to bury your meaty Asian bone next in their white boy bitch pussies.” Tony was rambling, but it was paying off: Zach eyes were clenched firmly shut as he lowered his waistband revealing his throbbing 8-inch cock, leaking copious amounts of precum, which Zach used to lube the shaft as his continued stroking faster and faster. Tony’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. It was perfect, he thought. No white boy would stand a chance. “Fuck yea, man. Can you imagine it? Walking around Justin Foley, naked on all fours and on a leash. Making Bryce Walker eat from a dog bowl. Sending Clay Jensen outside to piss and shit.” His own cock jumped in his pants thinking about his life-long best friend in such a position, but he had to resist joining Zach in jerking off. This was all about Zach and he had to stay focused. “They’re nothing but white dogs in the face of Asian supremacy. That’s all they’re meant to be. You just need to show them the truth!” Zach’s body tensed and he grunted a guttering moan as volleys of thick cum spurted a foot straight up in the air and down on his lower stomach. After five squirts, his body collapsed down against the sofa, and his breathing grew slower and softer as his cock deflated back into his shorts, leaving a trail of cum. Tony watched, not daring to move, for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a couple of minutes at most, waiting for Zach to say something - anything. Finally though, Tony’s body relaxed once he began to hear the soft grumblings of Zach snoring. The weed and jerk-off sesh had knocked him out, and Tony was hopeful that whatever he had been feeling just moments earlier as he was pounding his meat, was now being imprinted on his subconscious mind. But only time would tell. Slowly and quietly, he lifted himself off the couch, grabbed some empty bags to throw away, grabbed his shoes at the front door and headed out of the house. Tony walked around the block a few times, trying to clear his head both from the marijuana high and from the high of the intense scene that had just taken place between him and Zach. In the moment, all those words had flowed so naturally, but as his thoughts grew steadier, he began to grasp how utterly insane the moment was. He wasn’t even completely sure it had really happened. He had never spoken those thoughts out loud before - though they had been part of his sexual fantasies for years. From the earliest days of his budding sexuality, Tony had felt drawn to the white boy; Clay had been his first crush, and even from the earliest days of their friendship he felt a need to protect the boy, who seemed too innocent for this world. As he grew older, the feelings became complicated by his growing understanding of racial injustice in the country and in his community. From the racial slurs thrown at him and his family, to jokes from so-called friends about calling “immigration.” Even Clay - who of course never engaged in anything quite so offensive - could sometimes show his prejudices, whether by some offhand comment explaining some American tradition to Tony - as if Tony had not been born here and attended the same schools as Clay for the last ten years - or asking Tony to explain to him some hispanic custom, as if he were supposed to be an expert on the whole of Latin America. And even from a younger age, he became aware of just how different their upbringing was - Clay, a single child to two highly-educated suburbanites, and he, the son of undocumented immigrants trying to keep a struggling auto garage afloat. Over the years, he began to understand that their opposing situations were not simply a matter of fate, but the result of centuries of oppressive systems which favored whites at the expense of minorities. And so those initial urges to protect - which never went away - mixed with an urge to punish and subdue. Soon enough, these feelings intertwined themselves with his sexual fantasies, fueled by his discovery of interracial porn, and the subjugation of whitey became somewhat of an obsession. But which race would take the lead? Because Tony didn’t see himself as particularly dominant, he felt free to envision each of the darker-skinned races claiming their rightful place above the white man, and in his mind, they all had some claim of right: the Latinos, an ever-growing population in the U.S. reclaiming their ancestors’ native lands from invaders; Blacks, who faced the brunt of the white man’s racism and deserved vengeance for the original sin of slavery. But it was the Asian race which grew to prominence in his plotting. Asians, who among America’s minorities had least been invited into the civic fold, seemed to be, because of this distance from white society, best able triumph over it. There was something that seemed elemental about the conflict between whites and Asians - a conflict of opposing and incompatible civilizations, a clash between the East and West that could only have one victor. And Tony believed that this above all else - more than immigration from Latin America, more than the never-ending racial strife between black and white - dredged up the existential anxiety of white America. That in the dark depths of their hearts they saw the gleaming cities across the Pacific, saw more and more jobs at home requiring proficiency in Mandarin, saw their kids lose out on scholarships and awards to Asian immigrants, and thought: Maybe our time is up. And so it was no surprise that Zach Dempsey, who seemed an emblem of Asian-American perfection appeared so frequently in his carnal fantasies. But holy shit, he never expected in a million years to really tell anyone about these fantasies, and certainly not the subject of most of them. Something had just come over him and the high gave him cover to deny his confessions as marijuana-induced ramblings if Zach wasn’t onboard. But then, amazingly, he was! Honestly, Tony was a lot less shocked than he thought he ought to be. But the “sex is about power” spiel wasn’t just bullshit, he really believed it. It didn’t matter that Zach was straight; he was an alpha, and it was only natural that he’d get boned up at the idea of dominating betas, even if they were guys. As Tony finally felt sober enough to drive home and headed back to his car, he wondered whether Zach ever had these thoughts before - of dominating inferior white boys - or if Tony had in fact planted the seed into his head. More importantly, he wondered whether or not that seed would grow into something more. He didn’t have to wait long to find out. ***** The next morning, he awoke to find a text from none other than Zach: “Hey, man, had a lot of fun last night. Sorry for zonking out. Let’s do it again soon.” Tony contemplated the text. Did Zach want to pretend the later parts of the night never happened? But if he was too weirded out by the whole thing, why would he have texted at all? Best to play cool too, though. He typed: “Thanks for having me!” Short and sweet. The ellipsis bubble popped up almost immediately, showing Zach starting to type a reply. It disappeared for a moment before reappearing. Then it happened again. And again. Zach was clearly trying to find the right words about something. Tony stared intently at the screen of his phone. Finally, a new message: “Your mind goes to some pretty crazy places lol.” Interesting. He didn’t want to ignore what happened. Tony thought for a minute before responding: “Lol yea, I have no filter when high. Hope I didn’t weird you out too much.” Best not to raise the fact that Zach had jerked off in front of him. Zach took much less time to text back this time: “Nah, it’s cool.” And then: “So you really think that stuff?” Tony’s heart leapt. Oh yes, he had him. “Yeah I do lol. I have for a long time now tbh.” A long pause this time. Then: “And you think I could really take control of them?” Tony beamed. “Yeah, I really do, if you do it right. You interested? lol”. The lol was to give Zach and himself one last out just in case Zach wanted to turn back now, but Zach’s reply sealed the deal. “Haha maybe, idk man. Still sounds kinda crazy.” “Well why don’t we have another smoke sesh soon and talk through it?” “How about tonight?” ***** The rest, as they say, is history. Zach looked uncharacteristically bashful when Tony showed up, but once they lit up, the inhibitions started to melt away and they quickly got to work, this time making sure however not to get too high so they wouldn’t lose focus. Tony could tell that Zach was still skeptical, and even though it was now in the open that he enjoyed the idea of dominating white boys, Tony knew he wouldn’t be fully on board until he saw results. “I’m not about to start trying to seduce guys, Tony,” he would say taking a puff. “If they wanna come to me and submit, that’s one thing, but I’m not about to start chasing dick.” Then the obligatory, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” So Tony devised the plan that Zach could get comfortable with. He would select a group of boys with certain weaknesses that would make them prime targets to accept Asian supremacy. Then slowly over months he would send them anonymous messages extolling the truths of their inferiority and Asian men’s superiority, matching the messages with external affirmative feedback. “So what am I doing through all of this?” Zach asked. “You’re the external feedback. You need to become the ideal version of yourself. Work out every day, study every night. They need to think that you’re the epitome of perfection.” Zach groaned. “But doesn’t that kinda disprove the whole experiment? If Asians are really superior, then shouldn’t it not matter how good I am? They should be willing to submit to the twerpiest Asian nerd.” “Think about it,” Tony reasoned. “These guys have been taught by society their whole lives that they were better than everyone else. Obviously, it’s a lie, but it’s not gonna be easy to get them to unlearn it, so we need every advantage we can get to turn them.” ***** And so the plotting began in earnest. Tony became almost something of a life coach to Zach, making sure he was at the gym working out every day, and the studying with him in the evenings. During breaks they would make plans to turn the white boys. They decided early on to start with the obvious to hook the boys in - convince them that Asians were smarter. Clay would be the tough one to convince here - he was an honor student while the others were justmediocre, and Justin was downright dumb to be honest. Once they were satisfied with Zach’s progress - when his muscles were stretching his clothes and he was acing every test - it was time to begin. They would start with the first pre-calc test of the new semester after the holidays. Tony made sure to distract Clay in the days leading up to the exam. When Ms. Dunbar announced that she’d be handing back grades the next day, it was time to launch into action. Tony spent the night workshopping that fateful first text with Zach and sent it the next morning before the boys woke up from a new burner phone he bought for this purpose. Then the wait. Interestingly, Clay was the only one who responded. That was fine by Tony; the real important thing was that none of the boys blocked the number. Subconsciously at least, they were all interested in what he was texting to them. That fateful first day went off without a hitch. Zach got an A as expected and subtly flashed the paper towards Clay as Tony had told him to do. Zach reported back that he could see Clay out of his periphery staring at him as he walked out of the room. ***** After that they were off to the races. Tony and Zach kept their eyes and ears open to monitor the boys’ progress. It became clear by the second text that Tyler was already becoming affected. He couldn’t take his camera lens off Zach the entire basketball game. Then after the third text, Zach had heard from a friend about Alex’s questions on China in Economics class, and after the fourth text, Clay told him in passing how happy he was with his paper on American sinophobia. Tony could barely believe how quickly things were progressing. Justin was harder to read. The boy was a train-wreck, and it was clear he was suffering personally in his life - his basketball playing was shit and from Zach’s reporting, he was moody and irritable. The question was, how much were the texts seeping into his psyche? It was time to up the ante, and the upcoming Valentine’s Day provided the perfect backdrop. ****** “Dude, that’s so low.” “We need to keep up the pressure.” Tony avoided Zach’s look of horror as he explained the plan. Sure, Zach would have to betray Justin by sleeping with Jessica, and yes, the guilt tore into Tony’s chest that he would be responsible for breaking Clay’s heart, but there was no turning back now. Through some sleuthing, Tony had figured out that Justin and Jessica were on the rocks - perfect time for Zach to slide into Jess’s DM’s. She took the bait, hook, line and sinker - Zach showed him the steamy sexts just days before the holiday. He beamed when Tony told him no one could resist his Asian magnetism. Jess was basically taken care of - now to turn to Hannah. She was too much of a good girl to fool around with Zach, but some intel Zach came across caught Tony’s attention. Apparently, Marcus Cole was gonna ask Hannah out on a dare and try to get to third-base with her. Zach mused about telling Hannah not to go through with it, but Tony had a better plan. Zach would be waiting in the wings to pick up the pieces when things went to shit, and Tony would lead Clay, like a lamb to slaughter, to see the whole thing unfold. He was an evil genius. By the time Valentine’s week was over, Clay and Justin were emotionally crushed. Neither Tony nor Zach could quite figure out how Justin had found out that Zach had banged Jessica (the original plan was to have Zach leak it through a few basketball buddies), but the next day after it happened, Justin couldn’t even look at Zach. He knew. Zach still had to leak it to a few of the guys, though, just to make sure everyone knew Zach was the alpha to Justin’s beta. And also make sure the news got to Alex, who still seemed to be in love with Jessica as well. As for Tyler, the texts seemed to be wasted on him. Zach would tell Tony constantly about how Tyler followed him around snapping pictures when he thought Zach wouldn’t notice. He would crack soon, Tony was sure. Now that they were so deep inside the white boys’ psyche’s, it was time for some fun. Zach couldn’t stop giggling as the two played photoshoot in Zach’s bedroom, trying to get the best dick pic they could. To be honest, they all looked pretty good to Tony. He couldn’t wait for Clay to compare Zach’s monster to his own adorable dicklet (Tony had caught a peek at some sleepover or other) or for Justin to see the cock that defiled his woman. ***** Next came gym day. Zach was a naturally modest person who typically came home to shower rather than strip off in the locker room. That had so far worked in their favor, as it allowed them to plan a stunning reveal after months of Zach working out non-stop, but Tony was pretty surprised when Zach immediately agreed to the bit of exhibitionism Tony had in mind. Zach had really come into his own these past few months, growing increasingly confident - relishing the idea of dominating these white boys who he now firmly saw as beneath him. Tony felt the pride well up inside him knowing he had encouraged Zach to be his best self. Tony only wished he could have been there as Zach recalled how the boys stared at him - mouths agape - how Justin flinched as he wrapped his thick arms around the boy’s scrawny shoulders, humiliated but unable to resist. Tony went home that night and jacked off until he was raw. Tony was sure he had convinced the boys of Asian men’s superiority, mentally, physically, culturally and sexually. Now was the time to bend them towards submission, and in order to do that they needed outside encouragement. They needed to know their thoughts of inferiority weren’t unique to themselves, but accepted by wider society. Not that Tony expected everyone to share his views on Asian supremacy (not yet anyway), but he knew the boys would themselves seek out the very people who would confirm their own nascent worldview. For instance, Tony knew that Clay would seek out his best friend’s advice, and boy, was he willing to give it. **** He sent the 8th text as the sun rose on a crisp March morning and killed some time at the gym, rehearsing the plan in his head. When he drove over to Clay’s, his heart was pounding. He hadn’t spoken to his best friend much these past few months; he was busy plotting with Zach. And Clay, he hoped anyway, was busy reckoning with the realization of Asian superiority. But this would really be the first time Tony would have the chance to see just how far Clay was coming. He greeted Mr. Jensen at the door and then walked across to Clay in the kitchen who looked slightly disheveled and hurried. After the obligatory niceties, it was time to put the first part of the plan into action: “Mind if I use your bathroom quick?” A nod from Clay sent Tony from the kitchen, and past the hallway leading to the first floor restroom, and up the stairs towards Clay’s bathroom. Tony gave a furtive look down the hallway to make sure he was in the clear and then dunked into Clay’s bedroom, making a beeline towards his computer. Heart racing, Tony clicked the mouse watching the screen pop to life. His first thought was to thank his lucky stars that Clay was too dumb to password protect his computer. His second thought was Holy Shit. Right there on the screen for all to seen was a porn clip paused half-way through. Tony’s stomach did somersaults reading the title: “Muscle Asian Fucks White Bitch.” The face of the titular white “bitch” (Tony was a feminist at heart and bristled at the description) was frozen in ecstasy as the well-defined Asian hunk took her from behind. Tony could hardly believe it. He expected he’d have to do some grade-A snooping to find evidence that his texts were having any effect on his best friend. Instead, he had that evidence immediately smack him in the face. He saw that the location of the clip was linked to a folder called “Desire,” and he went to Clay’s desktop to do some more digging. His mouth fell open when he spotted the folder and opened it: There were dozens of clips. Clay had been very busy. Tony clicked through a couple, slightly disappointed that they were all clips of straight porn, but happy to see all featured handsome Asian men plowing gasping white women. He returned to the desktop and spotted some other folders with curious names. He knew he had to move quickly, lest someone come find him. He clicked on the first one marked “Intellect.” The folder contained a slew of documents with titles like “Japanese national wins Nobel Prize in Medicine” and “Taiwan-born 15 year old admitted to MIT.” Clay was clearly keeping a collection of Asian achievement - a quite impressive one at that. One more folder caught his eye before he figured he’d have to skedaddle. He opened the folder labeled “Manhood,” and clicked on the first image file. He gasped. There was a photo of a sexy Asian stud, arms resting behind his head, and a hard cock that rivaled Zach’s displayed proudly in the forefront. Tony frantically clicked through a few more photos of what must have been a collection of at least fifty. All contained images of naked Asian men with prominent packages. Tony’s mind was racing as he clicked out of all the the images he opened, and headed back downstairs, trying his best to compose himself. Luckily he kept it together in front of Clay’s mom, and the two were off. ******Fuck! Tony ran into a stall in the boy’s bathroom, unzipped his fly and furiously started beating off his latin sausage into the toilet. The car ride had gone better than he could have ever imagined. Clay was so eager to talk about his emerging belief in Asian superiority it was astounding. Tony expected the best he’d be able to do was drop some subtle lines about Zach being an all-around allstar, but Clay dove right into the biological differences between whites and Asians - it was mind-blowing. Tony recalled how hard his heart was beating when he pushed the conversation to the next level - getting Clay to start thinking about white servitude. He was so afraid the boy would balk and all his efforts to date would be ruined. Instead, Clay was nodding along, willing to connect the dots exactly how Tony had laid them out! There could be no doubt now; their plan was working and it would be only a matter of time before they reaped the rewards. **** In fact, the first reward came that weekend. Tony was lying in bed reading a comic book, when his phone buzzed. It was Zach: “Tyler here. Come NOW.” He bolted out of bed and to his car. This was it. This was what they’d been waiting for. Tony’s thoughts raced as he drove to Zach’s place. It wasn’t at all surprising the first one to fall would be Tyler. It had been Tony who discovered several weeks ago that Tyler was sneaking out to Zach’s house and beating off while trying to catch a peak of Zach through the window. The news weirded Zach out when he first heard, but Tony quickly convinced him this was good news, and more evidence that their plan was working. Soon, Zach was giving Tyler shows on a nightly basis, as he shirtlessly flexed near his window for the white boy below. When he pulled up to the house, Zach was waiting anxiously on the porch, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Where’s Tyler?” Tony asked as he hastened to the front door. “I locked him up in my room,” Zach said in frantic hushed tones. “Dude, the guy has gone nuts. I opened the door and he practically fell head-first into my crotch and was just sobbing this just crazy, incoherent shit. I had to drag him away from the door so none of the neighbors would see and brought him up to my room and texted you.” Tony saw how panicked Zach was and knew what happened next would be critical. For the past few months, he had been so concerned about getting these white boys to turn, he had hardly focused at all on getting Zach ready for the moment when he would claim his birthright for the first time. Zach was, after all, straight (at least for the most part) and while they spoke ad naseum about what Zach would do with the white boys once he controlled them, Tony could only imagine what was running through his head now that the prospect of going through with it was a reality. They raced up the stairs, and Zach hesitated at the door. In that moment, Tony decided he needed to lead the way - guide Zach to his rightful status. He stepped in front of Zach and opened the door. Across the room, sitting in a corner, head in his hands, was Tyler, rocking back and forth. On hearing the door open, he looked up, and Tony saw tears streaming down his face. Tyler squinted in confusion. “Tony? What - what are you doing - ” Then, his eyes found Zach right behind Tony, and he started pleading. “Zach. Please. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just need - ” “Tyler. Silence.” Tony startled even himself; his voice rang across the room, clear and firm. He had to take control of the situation. “We know exactly why you’re here. You’ve begun to realize that you were meant to serve superior Asian men, and came here to pledge your service to Zach, isn’t that right?” Tyler nodded furiously, mouth hanging slightly open in a near-trance-like state.” “Good,” Tony continued. “And from now on, it’s Master Zach to you, understood.” The boy continued nodding. “Yes sir, thank you, sir. Thank you, Master Zach!” “Ok. Now,” Tony took a deep breath. Moment of truth time. “I want you to stand up and strip away your clothes. Pathetic white boys should be naked when they are before a superior Asian master.” Tyler hopped up instantly without hesitation and began shucking off his clothes. Tony heard Zach whisper an Oh God behind him and he gently shushed him. He knew this was a lot for Zach, but he needed the Asian teen to keep his composure. He gestured at Zach to sit at the edge of his bed. When Tyler’s entire pale and gangle body was on display, Tony had him kneel at Zach’s feet, head bowed. Zach was practically sweating he was still so nervous. “Ok Tyler, now what would you like to say to Master Zach?” Tyler hesitated for a moment, but soon started up, eyes obediently turned to the floor. “Master Zach, I know I’m just a dumb, pathetic white boy, but all I want to do is serve a superior Asian man. It’s all I’ve been able to think about for weeks now. I want to thank you for showing me my true place in life and I promise to be a faithful and obedient servant,” adding after a beat, “if you’ll have me.” Zach was still silent, biting his lower lip, so Tony continued taking the lead. “That was good, Tyler. Now why don’t you show Master Zach what you’re willing to do for him. I think there’s something in his pants that you’ve been wanting to get acquainted with.” Tyler looked up at Tony, eyes widening. Tony nodded, and Tyler blushed, breaking into a bashful smile as he reached for the zipper on Zach’s pants. Zach took a sharp breath inward, tilted his head back and slammed his eyes shut. Luckily, Tyler was too focused on fishing out Zach’s dick to notice. When his prize fell out from over the waistband of Zach’s boxers, still mostly flaccid but impressive none-the-less, Tyler let out a soft squeal before taking the cook in his mouth like a baby calf to an udder. This elicited another gasp from Zach, and he clenched his eyes firmer. After a minute and a half or so, Zach still hadn’t gotten harder, and Tony was afraid that Tyler would pass out from the effort he was exerting. It was clear Zach was psyching himself out. Tony scooted next to him on the bed and whispered in his ear, “Dude, just relax. Look down and enjoy the view.” Ever so tentatively, Zach began tilting his head downward, and then cracked open his eyelids. Seeing Tyler staring up at him, brown eyes wide open, mouth glued to his dick, Zach was suddenly transfixed. Tony’s play had had its intended effect as within moments the cock started growing within Tyler, as the white boy’s face lit up with joy. Once it was mostly hard, Tyler could only take about half of the cock comfortably, but Zach had other plans. He placed a hand on the back of Tyler’s head and slowly forced the kneeling boy to take more and more of his manhood. When Tyler had a good 6 or 7 inches down his throat, he began to sputter, but Zach didn’t let up. Now he tossed his head back in ecstasy. “Fuck yea, white boy. Choke on that thick Asian cock!” It was music to Tony’s ears. Mission fuckin’ accomplished. ******* The next few days were a lust-filled paradise for Tony. Zach quickly took to having a white boy servant at his beck and call, and would send Tony pics of the various things he thought to make Tyler do. Tony particularly enjoyed a POV photo of Zach watching TV with his large feet resting on Tyler’s naked back. The night they had conquered Tyler, Tony sent out the pic to the other boys that Zach texted to him of Tyler looking up from the floor, tongue caressing Zach’s magnificent cock. It would only be matter of time before the other dominoes fell. Still, he couldn’t help but be a little surprised at how quickly they did. And how rapidly Zach morphed into a dominant Asian alphamale. Tony nearly creamed his pants when he walked in on Zach, Tyler and Alex in that empty classroom, Tyler and Alex collared and plugged with rubber dog tails, faces wet with cum and saliva. Then again a few days later, when he walked in on Zach fucking Justin doggy-style in his bedroom, the white boy too zonked out to notice him, screaming, “Fuck me harder, Daddy!” In the end it had been a stroke of genius picking these boys to start their revolution. Each of them was so susceptible in their own individual ways. Tyler was a sex-crazed deviant whose mind was a fertile garden for planting the seeds of his sexual inferiority. Alex was a kid mad at the world, desperate to get back at his white-bread family for whatever slights they slung at him, and the kids at school who believed they were God’s gift to Earth and who he would take extreme pleasure in bringing down with him. Justin was simply a mess, his life devoid of any guidance or caring. Once nearly everything he loved had been stripped from him — home stability, his girl, his team, his reputation — he had no other choice but to fall back on the last thing he love: his best friend. Only now he realized he wasn’t good enough to be Zach’s friend, so eagerly accepted whatever role Zach saw fit for him. And then, finally, there was Clay. Tony felt a pang of pride that Clay had outlasted the others, but in the end he knew Clay too would fall. The boy could never let anything go. Tony knew the texts would eat away at him, that he would obsess over them, do his own extracurricular research to try to disprove them only to accidentally (but perhaps subconsciously intentionally) discover their inherent truth. And now the truth led him here, to Zach’s house, and it was time for Tony to lead Clay into his new life. Tony’s chest swelled with pride, and his dick swelled with blood, as he spoke calmly to his best friend, staring him straight in the eye: “Master Zach is waiting, Clay. We need to get you ready. Now, get naked.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Clay stood speechless. Tony, his best friend, a boy he’d known for most his life - he was in on this whole thing. He was…conspiring with Zach? Clay felt his insides tighten and his head begin to spin. That conversation the two of them had in the car the other day. Tony had known exactly what he was doing when he suggested whites should serve Asians. “Clay.”Tony was staring at him expectantly. Clay realized he was just standing there, mouth slightly agape as the enormity of the revelation hit him. Slowly, he reached for the zipper on his hoodie and lowered it with slightly shaking hands. He let the garment fall away, revealing a plain, faded blue tee. He kept staring directly ahead as he pulled the shirt over his head, and dropped it to the floor as well. He reached for the button on his jeans and hesitated, diffidently glancing sideways at Tony, who just gave him a curt nod. A moment later, Clay’s jeans were around his ankles, and he kicked them to the side.Now, in just boxers, the shivers that traveled through Clay’s body had not all to do with the chill he felt from his state of undress. He took a deep breathe to steal himself and hooked his thumbs beneath the waistband, and in one, quick fluid movement, yanked downward, letting the fabric float to the ground.***Tony had to suppress a growl of lust. Clay stood there, shaking like a leaf, his naked alabaster skin looking so…inviting. But no, this wasn’t for Tony. Tony had a job to do, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy himself.“Ok Clay, now, on your hands and knees.”Clay’s head snapped to the side, finally looking Tony full in the face - fear and excitement at war within him. Seeing no reprieve from Tony, he gingerly lowered himself to his knees, and then carefully bent over to be on all fours.Tony’s dick angrily pressed against the crotch of his pants as he fished a bottle of lube from his pocket, and knelt besides Clay. His breath hitched in his throat, viewing the shapely mounds of Clay’s buttocks up close. The soft pink rosebud of Clay’s anus sent Tony shivering himself.He savored lubing up his index finger and bringing it to the cute little hole, brushing it ever so gently against the puckered flesh.Clay reflexively hissed in breath and bucked forward. “Uhh, Tony? What are you doing back there,” he asked shakily.“Shh, Clay,” Tony softly reprimanded. “No more talking now.” He grabbed Clay by the pelvis and brought his butt back to him. Then he pressed his index finger gently against the anus, lightly messaging the hole and making it moist with lube, sending Clay mewling.Once he pressed hard enough so that the tip of his finger passed Clay’s anal ring, the mewls turned to grunts, but Clay obediently did not protest. Tony slowly worked his finger into Clay’s butthole, all the while Clay panted and moaned. Tony finally found that little nut he’d been reaching for, Clay’s prostate, and when he rubbed against it, Clay let out a high pitched squeak.“Tony, Tony, please,” he panted. “Please, I don’t know if I can do this.” He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. Tony frowned. This wasn't the reaction he wanted.“Please Tony, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Clay sniffed, and gasped once Tony pulled his finger out of his friend’s bum. Tony was disappointed. He really thought Clay had crossed the Rubicon. He knew he’d have to tell Zach about this development. Clay might not be ready after all.*****Clay watched as Tony silently strode away down the hall. What had he done? Had he blown his chance? He felt like he was so ready. Ready to finally submit to his Asian master. And yet, when Tony hit that spot inside him and sent a surge of pleasure through his body, it all became too much. Sure, after seeing that photo of Zach fucking Justin, it must have registered that Zach would want Clay to submit his ass to Asian cock as well. But Tony’s finger was the first thing that had ever gone up Clay’s butt, and the boy was frightened. Zach would certainly tear him apart. But now, on his hands in knees, Clay began to feel shame, not for what Tony had done to him, but for how he had reacted. It wasn’t his place to reject Zach’s wishes - to put his own comfort above an Asian man’s desires. He needed to explain himself to Zach. To Tony. To beg their forgiveness and show them that he knew his place. But he dare not move from this spot.He waited for a good for or five minutes, starting to feel the strain in his harms from holding himself up. Then, he heard Tony’s footsteps making their way back up the hallway.“Tony, I’m sorry! Please, I’m ready, now, I promise!”Tony smiled gently down on him. “No, you’re not, Clay.” He said it firmly and the words fell like a boulder on Clay’s back. “But that’s okay,” Tony continued. “You’re so very close, and when you’re actually ready, you’ll truly submit and it will be beautiful.”“Can I…can I see Zach?”“No. But he has a gift for you. To put you in the right mindset.”Tony held out his hand, and Clay could see he was holding an object that he had become familiar with in his forays into gay porn: a chastity cage. It was pink and plastic. And small, even for his pathetic little dick.“First we have to take care of this.” Tony had knelt back down beside him and grasped his dick, which Clay hadn’t even realized was fully erect and dripping. “Can I help you out?”Clay nodded. He heard Tony reapply the lube to his hands and then felt a slippery palm return to his dick. A second later, he felt a finger return to his hole and braced himself for the intrusion. Tony’s finger slid in more easily this time, and when it brushed against that spot inside Clay, the boy embraced the pleasure shockwaves coursing through him, letting out lewd, guttural moans. “Fuck, Clay,” Tony whispered huskily. “You’re gonna look so hot when you finally submit to Zach - when you finally take his big Asian cock.”“Do you really think he’ll fuck my ass?”“This isn’t an ass, Clay. It’s a pretty white boy pussy, and it was meant to take thick Asian cock. And Zach will do whatever he wants with it - whatever he wants with you.”Clay whined and moaned as Tony continued his assault on his prostate and his mind. “He’s gonna fuck all those dumb white boy thoughts out of your dumb little head, until all you’re thinking about is Asian cock. The perfect white boy bitch. His perfect pet.”With one last moan, Clay spilled his watery seed in the floor and collapsed, his head lolling to the ground, ass still up as Tony pulled out his finger.“Good boy, now turn over and let’s get you locked up.”****The lock on the cage jingled quietly as Clay put his underwear and pants back on. It was tightly fitted and yet, Clay somehow felt comforted that his little dick was now out of his control. Tony played with the tiny key between his fingers - the key that Zach would wear on a chain around his neck.“If you have spring break plans, cancel them.”Clay raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Zach’s gonna take you boys on a little trip. Show up here, Monday, 10 a.m. Don’t be late.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The ride up to Lake Clear was definitely the strangest Clay had ever been on. He drove his bike back to Zach’s place exactly when Tony had told him, but was still the last to arrive as the boys were packing up what must have been a rented van. Or more accurately, Justin was packing the van, as Zach and Tony looked on, chatting amongst themselves and Alex and Tyler were playfully chasing each other around the lawn, both wearing tank tops, skimpy shorts and flip-flops.Clay’s heart started beating in his chest seeing Zach standing tall, arms folded in a muscle shirt. But if Zach noticed his arrival, he didn’t acknowledge it.Clay was about to open his mouth to say…well, he didn’t know what. Thank Zach for inviting him to his family’s lake house, he supposed. But before he could get a word out, Tony called out, “Hey Clay, why don’t you throw your stuff in the trunk, and help Justin load the rest in. We want to head out in 10 minutes.”The tone of Tony’s voice let Clay know it was more of an order than a suggestion. With one last glance back at Zach, who was now idly watching Alex and Tyler on the lawn, Clay joined Justin at the open trunk.“Hey,” Clay said in hushed tones as he lifted his bag into the van. “Hey,” Justin replied, barely above a whisper. He furtively looked up at Clay, face flushed red, before quickly turning away.Clay could understand Justin’s embarrassment. He probably knew Clay had seen the photo of him getting fucked by Zach and loving it. Clay wondered if Justin thought Clay had given his ass to Zach too. He blushed a bit himself realizing that he was probably the only white boy here who Zach hadn’t fucked. Surely it would happen on this trip though, right? That was why Zach had invited him, wasn’t it? Clay still felt so scared to give that part of himself to Zach, or anyone, but with Zach standing there looking like an Asian god, he knew he’d bend over for the hunk if ordered.Clay couldn’t help but to wonder though why, if Justin had already been fucked by Zach, he was being treated like Clay: an afterthought to Zach sent to pack the car. Did Zach have favorites? Was there some kind of hierarchy even among the white boys?Clay knew this was gonna be a long and very weird week. **** The ride up to the lake, however, wasn’t too long. Clay and Justin sat in the back mostly in silence while Alex and Tyler chatted in the next row up about what they’d do once they got to the house. Zach drove while Tony rode shotgun. Clay stared intently at the back of Zach’s head; occasionally Tony would point out directions but they mostly sat quietly, Zach’s head nodding with the music on the radio.As the drive became more farms and forest, Alex and Tyler quieted down, and Clay could see their reflections in the windows as they looked out at the nature, dumb smiles planted on their faces. Clay thought he had caught Alex smirking at him through the reflection, but he turned away before their eyes fully met.“That’s Lakefront Drive,” Tony pointed from the front, and Zach pulled onto the narrow, wooded road. After a minute or so, the lake opened up in front of them, gleaming in the early afternoon sun. Rustic houses lined the street, and Clay even saw a doe dart between the trees. Finally, they pulled into a gravel driveway leading up to a stately looking cabin.“Here we are!” Zach’s voice boomed, putting the van in park.“Can we jump in the lake, Master?” Master. Goosebumps erupted on Clay’s body, hearing Alex’s plea. The car ride had been so uneventful, he’d almost forgotten all the debauched things he knew his fellow passengers had done - were sure to do on this trip. He felt his dick press against his chastity cage.Zach chuckled. “Sure, but first put your stuff away in your rooms. Alex, Tyler, you can share the bunk room on the first floor. Clay and Justin, you can share the queen in the bedroom next to theirs. Tony, you take the queen upstairs, and I’ll take the king in the master’s bedroom.”“Master’s for Master,” Tyler giggled.“Oh, and Justin and Clay: Take the coolers out to the porch. We’ll have lunch after our swim.”Clay and Justin glanced at each other. More chores.Zach popped open the trunk and they stepped out into the fresh air, birds chirping dissonantly. Alex and Justin raced to grab their stuff and headed into the cabin, Zach shouting the passcode to let them in. From what Clay could see as they raced passed him, it looked like they had only brought a small backpack each. Clay wondered how’d they have enough clothes for the week.Clay took his own duffel bag into the house with Justin in tow. The door of Alex and Tyler’s room was closed but he could hear them twittering within. The house had a sort of hunter’s lodge theme going on; an elk’s head hung over a large stone fireplace.Clay stepped into the room designated for him and Justin. It wasn’t particularly large; the queen size bed took up the majority of the space. But it was clean, and had a nice view of the lake.Clay turned to Justin and the two exchanged what could only be described as bashful glances. After all that had happened, it seemed silly now that the two of them would feel that boyish embarrassment to share a bed together.“Prefer a side?” Clay asked Justin. Justin shook his head, so Clay plopped his stuff on the side furthest from the door. “Guess we should grab those coolers.” **** It soon became clear why Alex and Tyler had brought so little with them. As Clay and Tyler gently set down the cooler on the deck and peered out over the water, a blur of skin tones raced passed them. Alex and Tyler had stripped down to nothing to go skinny dipping in the lake. Well, nothing except their matching pink chastity cages, as Clay was just able to to confirm. A beat later, Zach stepped out into the deck baring a stylish pair of short swim trunks which, with a sizable bulge in front, left little to the imagination. “You two coming in.” He said it as a statement rather than a question.“Yes, sir,” Justin replied, blushing.Zach must have seen Clay peering nervously over the lake as nude Alex and Tyler splashed each other just beyond the shore. “We have swim shorts for you, if you want,” he casually offered.Clay internally let out a sigh of relief. He was feeling decidedly self-conscious watching Alex and Tyler’s lithe forms nakedly thrash around. And he had a gnawing fear that maybe the reason Zach hadn’t claimed him yet was he just wasn’t turned on by his body. He marveled over how these last few months had reduced him to an insecure school girl desperate for the approval of Asian men.“Oh, I brought my own,” Clay stuttered. He realized it was the first time he spoke to Zach since he arrived at his home that morning. His voice fell hollow in his mouth.“You’ll like these better,” Zach said simply, walking down the steps leading to the lake.Tony then stepped out of the house. “You two can change inside. Justin, I left your pair on your bed. Clay, your’s is in the bathroom down the hall.” ***When Clay saw the bathing suit, his first thought was, so much for attempting modesty. His next thought was to force himself to ignore the squeeze of his chastity cage against his inflating dick. On the sink counter lay a very skimpy red speedo. Clay picked it up and in the mirror saw that it wasn’t completely red: a large yellow star partially encircled by an arch of four smaller stars was printed on the seat of the speedo. The Chinese flag. Clay felt warmth rush up his neck to his cheeks. Trembling slightly, he slowly stripped off his clothes until he was left in nothing but his cage. He took the speedo and rubbed the Lycra material between his fingers before stepping in and yanking them upward. They were indeed quite tight. There was a full length mirror on the door to the restroom, and Clay gasped at his reflection. The outline of his cage, though small, was clearly visible. Even more pronounced however was the bulge his backside.Clay couldn’t help but admire the way his posterior filled the bathing suit. He’d never given too much thought to his backside, honestly; like most boys his age he’d focus on penis size, not that there was much to focus on. Now with that part locked away, however, he realized he had been ignoring what was certainly his better asset. And the one Zach surely would care more about, he thought blithely. **** Clay walked out into the porch to spot Justin just a few paces in front of him. He wore a gleaming white speedo with a large red circle plastered on his butt: the Japanese flag. Clay noted proudly that Justin’s slimmer frame and butt didn’t make quite the impression in the speedo as Clay thought he did. Still, he did have, what Clay’s mom might refer to as, a cute tush.As soon as Clay’s feet touched the water of the lake, his body seized up: it was freezing. Yet Zach, Alex and Tyler were splashing around as if it were nothing.“Don’t think about it, Clay!” Alex called to him, seeing him stuck to the shore. “You just gotta dive in!”Clay saw Justin brace himself, and rush into the crystal blue waters; he certainly wasn’t going to be the only one left standing there in just his speedo.Taking a deep breath, he slowly waded into the lake, already shivering furiously by the time the water reached his knees. Once the water had come just below his waist, he decided he’d just have to plunge himself in, so with profanities screaming through his head, he dunked his body below the waves. Immediately, he felt he balls shoot up into his body and thought to himself that with this shrinkage, his chastity cage felt practically roomy. Zach, Alex and Tyler continued to horse around while Clay shivered with his arms folded to his chest. The two white boys would grab onto Zach’s arms as he flexed, lifting them, seemingly super-humanly, out on the water. At one point, Zach dived beneath the water, and suddenly, Alex was, squealing with delight, hoisted high above the wave on Zach’s shoulders, lily white bare bum flashing Clay, before Zach flipped him back into the water with a giant splash.There was never an invitation for Clay to join the fun, nor Justin either for that matter, who was treading water a few yards from Clay, an inscrutable look on his face. They spent only another fifteen minutes or so in the lake, Clay swimming some circles to keep warm, before Zach decreed that it was time for lunch. And so, at his command, they scrambled out.Shivering, the boys raced up to the deck where Tony had laid out some towels and was now laying on a lounge chair, head emerged in a magazine.“Justin, Clay, why don’t you fire up the grill and make us some burgers for lunch,” Zach announced as he dragged a towel over his ripped body.Clay sighed internally again. An obvious pattern was emerging. But, knowing better than to complain, Justin tinkered around with the grill, as Clay pulled out ingredients from the coolers. Out of the corner of his eye, Clay could see Zach reach into a knapsack that Tony must have brought out. He pulled out what looked to be two thin strips of leather. Alex and Tyler, still naked but for their cages grew noticeably excited, and that’s when Clay realized what Zach was holding: dog collars.The boys were practically hopping up and down, until Zach snapped his fingers and pointed to the ground. Immediately, the two boys dropped to their knees, looking up at Zach in wild anticipation. Once Zach had clasped the collars around their necks, Alex and Tyler instinctively lowered their heads and began lapping at Zach’s large, bare feet. Zach chuckled quietly, before grabbing Tyler by his curly hair and slamming his face into Zach’s suit-covered crotchClay could hear Tyler's mewling as Zach gruffly said, "Such good little white pup sluts. Might as well build our appetites before lunch, right?"The boys grew even more frenzied as they yipped and moaned and began licking up Zach's legs and torso, no doubt still coated in lake water."Why don't you boys get me more comfortable?"Taking their cue, Tyler and Alex each grabbed hold of a side of Zach's bathing suit with their teeth and began yanking downward.And there, in the flesh (and so much flesh there was), out popped Zach's cock in all its girthy glory. The bathing suit fell to Zach's feet, and he stepped backwards, the other two white boys, tongues dangling out of their mouths, following his dick like a beacon.Zach sat himself down on a bench, and Alex and Tyler crawled over, Tyler beating out Alex to Zach’s cock, opening his mouth wide to engulf the thick member.Undeterred, Alex began planting kisses along Zach’s thighs and torso. And then something that made Clay’s eyes bug out from his body: Zach grabbed Alex’s head from behind and yanked him up into a ferocious, teeth-clattering kiss. The sloppy make out somehow shocked Clay more than Tyler lewdly bobbing up and down on Zach’s cock. It was so intimate and passionate, although of course, with Zach continuing the clench Alex’s hair in a fist, it was clear that this was a display of dominance and submission no less than the dick sucking.As Clay couldn’t help but gape at the insanely erotic scene unfolding feet from him, he saw that Justin, on the other hand, had his eyes fixated on the grill in front of him, not daring to look, his hands shaking slightly.Then, Alex, with his lips still glued to Zach’s stepped up onto the bench so that he was directly over Zach’s body, feet straddling his sides. Slowly, he lowered himself into a squatting position. Tyler, seeing Alex’s pale white ass coming closer to his face, lifted his mouth from Zach’s cock with a soft pop, and with one hand on the base holding the spit-glistening meat missile straight upward into the air, dug his face into Zach’s pendulous balls and taint and continued slurping away.Now with Alex’s hole hovering just inches above Zach’s cock, the two finally broke away from their kiss, staring darkly into each other’s eyes. Zach gave a list filled nod and, as Clay’s heart forgot to beat, Alex lowered himself the rest of the way until his puckered asshole make contact with Zach’s engorged, fat head. With a fierce groan, Zach began attacking Alex’s neck with his mouth, and Alex turned his head giving his master further access.In that instance, Alex’s eyes met Clay’s. Gone was the anger and rage and defiance that Clay had come to know over the last few months. Gone, really, was any sign of independent thought or personhood. All Clay could see in Alex’s eyes was an animalistic urgency to submit. Then, Clay’s breath jammed in his throat as Alex’s hole bloomed open to take several inches of Zach’s cock in one fell swoop. **** The erupting pain of Zach’s cock shifting his insides temporarily knocked Alex out of his sex-filled haze. Tyler had done a good job slicking up Zach for him, but Zach’s thickness and length made it impossible (for now) to take the whole thing instantly without prep or proper lube. Of course, that wouldn’t stop him from trying. Zach, his master, his Asian god, demanded that he learn to be able to take his cock wherever, whenever. And Alex was more than happy keep training until he could fully oblige.It frightened him a bit to comprehend just how much he had lost of himself over the course of these weeks serving Zach; his own desires sublimated to Zach’s whims. He felt less driven by his need to see his friends and family taken down by Asian superiority and more happy now to be like Tyler: a silly, sex-crazed white boi slut pup. As he began sliding his boi pussy up and down Zach’s shaft, taking a bit more each time down, he remembered how special a week this would be. After their last fuck session back at Zach’s house, Zach had told him how important it was that he and Tyler show Clay and Justin exactly how to be good white boys for their master. At first, Alex thought that meant he’d need to put all his focus into concentrating long enough to demonstrate proper servitude, keeping Tyler in check as well. But now, he thought exhilarated, speeding up faster and faster on Zach’s huge dong, the real best way to show these white boys their future was to be the dumb, mindless, cock-addicted pet he was always meant to be. *** The mass of bodies writhed and gyrated faster as animal grunts and moans emanated from the lovers’ mouths. Alex squealed as Zach took him by the waste and slammed him up and down on his cock like nothing more than an oversized fleshlight. With one bellowing roar, Zach’s thrusted his hips upward, and Clay knew he was dumping his seed deep into Alex’s body.Alex and Zach sat still for a moment, panting, sweat dripping off their naked bodies. Then, with an ungodly, practically cartoonish squelch, Zach lifted Alex straight upward off his cock and sat him on his lap, so that his ass was now hanging down between Zach’s spread-out legs, right above Tyler’s head, whose nose was still buried in Zach’s sack.Tyler, realizing what was now above him, and that it was filled with his master’s seed, pried himself away from Zach’s balls and lifted his head upward like a baby calf to the udder, lapping away gently at Alex’s well-fucked, raw asshole.Zach chuckled quietly as Alex let out more soft moans while Tyler ate out his puffy ass lips and turned to Clay and Justin with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.“So, how are those burgers coming, boys?"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The next two days were agonizing for Clay. He and Justin sullenly went about doing chores while Zach, Alex and Tyler fucked like rabbits. They’d set the table for breakfast to the sound of Zach railing Alex in the bedroom, or rinse and chop vegetables to the sounds of Tyler slobbering on Zach’s cock on the porch. Even when they had down time - between Zach and Tony’s orders - it was impossible to avoid an eyeful of Zach’s cock going down some hole or another. Clay chose a book to read from the library and was about to bring it down to the beach, when, from the deck he saw that Zach, Tyler and Alex were already on the shore. Tyler was on his hands and knees sinking into the sand, while Alex was on top of him, hands on Tyler’s shoulders, knees pressed into his back, the two balancing like a two-man pyramid facing the water, while Zach rotated between them, standing on his tip toes to shove his cock in Alex’s ass, then pulling out and squatting low to plunge into Tyler’s - like some new and deranged form of burpees. Clay took his book to his bedroom.It’s not like the scenes didn’t turn him on. The exact opposite in fact. Clay thought his straining dick would snap his chastity cage clean off from the extreme horniness of it all. But Zach hadn’t invited him to join. Not once! Every passing hour, Clay felt what was left of his self-esteem dwindle further and further. He felt like he might snap, take Zach by his broad muscled shoulders and shake him, demanding to know why he wasn’t good enough for the honor of Zach’s Asian cock.But he knew he’d never disrespect his master like that. This has to be a test, right? A hazing period of sorts. He’d keep obeying Zach’s commands and eventually Zach would accept him as another of his white boi sex slaves.Jesus Christ, what had he become?Still, there was no denying that that is truly what he wanted, more than anything else. He didn’t know how much longer he could take the rejection. He knew the strain was getting to Justin too. The two didn’t talk much; neither of them knew how to put into words the absurdity of the situation they found themselves in.But on the second night, Clay heard Justin softly crying, as he faced the door, turned from Clay.It happened again on the third night. Clay’s heart clenched at the sound of Justin’s quiet sniffling and meek, muffled sobs.When it became too much from him to bear, he softly spoke out, “Hey, Justin? You awake?”Clay saw the thin boy’s frame tense up for a moment before Justin whispered a hoarse “yea.”Clay struggled to formulate something to say that would be appropriate for the situation they found themselves in. Obviously, he came up short. Instead, he tried for something that might help to break the tension. “This is really fucking weird, right?”Justin hiccuped a small laugh and then turned to face Clay. Clay could see with the moonlight streaming into the room that his eyes were red and a little puffy, which made his chest tight again.“Yes,” Justin said simply.The two lay there quietly for a few minutes, neither knowing what to say.“What is happening to us, Clay?”Clay looked back at Justin’s still wet blue eyes. The look on his face told Clay the question wasn’t rhetorical. But hell if he knew. Although, that wasn’t quite right. Not anymore. He’d just been afraid to say it out loud to someone. But it really was beyond denial at this point.“I think we’re figuring out our true natures,” Clay said, barely above a whisper. “I think we’re being…yellow-pilled.”He meant the phrase half in jest, to break the tension, but it came out dead serious.“Fuck.” Clay didn’t miss the arousal in Justin’s voice; he’d practically moaned. Saying it out loud turned Clay on too.Another minute or so of weighty silence.“I’ve always known Zach was better than me.” Justin broke the quiet again. “Even when we were little.”Clay lifted himself up on his elbow and Justin did the same.“Well, better than all of us, really,” he continued. “Like, Bryce was richer, and Luke Holliday was bigger and Monty was faster, but somehow Zach was always the best. To me, anyway. It’s hard to explain.”Clay’s heart thumped in his chest. “You just sensed he was superior.”Justin bit his lip. “Yea,” he admitted softly, suppressing a moan.“Because he was Asian. And you were white.” Clay’s body was heating up. Justin’s head turned so that his blue eyes directly connected with Clay’s.“Yes,” Justin whispered hoarsely. It felt so good for both of them to share these feelings with one another. To talk with another white boy going through the same transformation, discovering this new, scary, exhilarating truth. They lay there a few more moments, still staring into each other’s eyes, sensing (correctly) that each other’s arousal was filling their tiny chastity cages to the max.Clay broke the silence again. “What was is like when he…” He words got stuck in his throat, so he mouthed, “fucked you?”Tears welled up in Justin’s eyes, and his body shuddered. “It was so, so good,” he sighed.Clay waited a tick for more, but Justin wasn’t the most loquacious guy, so he pressed further. “Why did he…you know, stop?”Justin squeezed his eyes shut, which pushed the tears onto his cheeks. He took a deep breath and began. “I was really high when it happened. The next morning, I freaked. I ran.”Clay could hear the shame ring in his voice. He waited this time for Justin to go on.“He texted me later that day and it was like nothing happened. He invited me over to watch a game, and I thought it would happen again. And I went! But when I got there, so were Alex and Tyler and they were…” Justin blushed, remembering. “Servicing him.”Clay could picture it clearly. Zach’s pants half way down while Alex and Tyler shared his big cock on their knees. And Zach greeting Justin as he walked in, totally nonchalant as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Clay thought it was kind of cute how Justin could still be embarrassed talking about these things after the past few days.Justin continued: “And that was kinda it. We watched the game. Alex and Tyler kept doing their thing. Zach would sorta order me around, make me get him stuff. Which I did. But he didn’t ask me to join in, you know, with them. And that’s sort of how it’s been since.”They laid in silence for a few moments. Then Clay said, “I really want him to fuck me.”“I really want him to fuck me again,” Justin replied matter-of-factly. They both burst into laughter. It was all so insane.Once the giggles had died down, Clay mused, “I really don’t get what he sees in Tyler and Alex. They’re so gangly and…”“Easy?” Justin finished.Clay nodded. “I mean, if the point is to show Asian dominance, you’d think he would try to break an All-American jock stud like you.” Clay tried to pass it off as a joke, but it was true; Justin was a really handsome guy.Justin chuckled at the compliment. “You’re not too bad looking yourself, Jensen. You know, for a white boy.” They both laughed again, but the laughter resolved into another pensive silence.After a while, Clay said, “Maybe we need to be easier.” Justin just raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Maybe we’ve been too resistant.”“Resistant?” Justin snorted. “We’ve done everything he’s asked us to do. Jumped at every order. He knows we’d get on our knees if he asked us too.”“Maybe he doesn’t want to ask.”Justin gulped, furrowing his brow nervously. “So…what do we do differently?”A million thoughts raced through Clay’s mind of how they could prostrate themselves before Zach to show their subservience, each one more perverse than the next. But he could see Justin would need some gentle coaxing and didn’t want to freak him out. Better to start slow.“When we got here, Alex and Tyler tossed off all their clothes practically instantly. We still kept ours on though.”“Well yeah,” Justin interjected. “It’s sort of hard to humiliate yourself like they’re doing.”“But that’s the point,” Clay reasoned. “I don’t think Zach likes our modesty. Alex and Tyler’s nudity tells him that they recognize they’re inferior to him.”Clay could see Justin flinch at the word “inferior.” “See, you’re still resisting!”“Man, this shit is hard, Clay! My head feels all fucked up all the time.” Justin brought his clenched fists to his temples, shaking his head back and forth. “I just…I don’t want to lose all my self-respect.”Clay thought back to something Tony had said to him, back in the car on the way to school that day. That conversation made so much more sense now.“Does a dog earn respect by biting its master?”Justin looked at Clay through bewildered eyes. Ok, Clay admitted to himself, that was probably a bit too Confucian for him to pull off.“My point is there’s respect to be gained in recognizing your place and playing your part. It’s when you try to be something you’re not, try to rise above your natural station, that’s when you lose respect. From yourself but also from Zach.”Justin’s shoulders dropped a tick. Clay could tell he was receptive.“If you didn’t want this, Justin…If you didn’t know this was right, you wouldn’t have come in the first place. Do you want to keep going on like this? One foot in, one foot out?”Justin sniffled. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head.“Ok, so it’s settled,” Clay said, firmly. “No more clothes the rest of the trip.”Justin gave something between a sigh and a chuckle. “Starting now?”Clay paused as his heart began to thump again. There was no real reason to strip down now, when Zach couldn’t see. And yet, for some reason, Clay desperately wanted to see Justin naked. And wanted to be naked with him.“Might as well,” he began, covering his nerves. “It will make things easier in the morning.”Another sigh from Justin, but also a nod. He rolled off the bed, and Clay followed.They stood sheepishly before each other, and then Clay took the plunge, lifting off his shirt. He pushed aside his self-consciousness and body image issues. What was important now was being strong for Justin - showing him how to be a good white boy for their master.Justin followed, lifting up his tee-shirt revealing his lightly toned abs and pecs.Their eyes were locked on each other; it was clear that the symbolism of what they were doing was not lost on either of them. With their clothes, they were discarding the lie of equality, a lie they had told the world and themselves, now exposing their true selves to each other and accepting their place as the inferior white boys they were.Nearly in sync this time, they lowered their pajama bottoms and let them fall to the floor, kicking them away. The two now stood in their boxers. With a nearly imperceptible nod from Clay, they let those drop to the floor as well.Clay’s eyes roved over Justin’s body, landing on the plastic pink chastity cage, identical to his own.In that instant, Clay had the ludicrously obvious thought: This is so gay. And that realization somehow turned him on even more. Zach and the truth of Asian supremacy had fundamentally changed him. Changed his sexuality. He thought about Hannah for probably the first time in months. He pictured her naked. He pictured her on her knees giving him head. He pictured her, legs splayed wide, stretched open by a cock too large to be his own. He felt nothing.He turned his attention back to Justin, this perfect, raw specimen of white inferiority. And he realized he loved Justin. And he loved Alex and Tyler. He had thought, even with all the porn, all the masturbation, all the fantasies about Zach, that he had only become sexually attracted to superior Asian men. Now he realized though that the other side of the coin, white boy inferiority was equally arousing - was equally beautiful.Judging from the way, Justin gazed back at him, similar thoughts were running through his head as well.That’s when they heard it. From the next room over, Alex’s and Tyler’s room: shouts and moans and slaps. Zach’s grunting echoed through the wall in rhythm with Tyler’s whimpers. They were clearly fucking as Alex moaned along as well.It was when Tyler’s moans turned to dog yips and arfs that Clay and Justin lost it and lunged forward, mouths and teeth crashing, hands sliding over skin, as they fell back on the bed. The sound and feel of their cages clinking against the other, reminding them of the impotence of their useless dinky dicks, drove them even more crazy as their bodies writhed on top of the sheets.They made out for what seemed like an hour, hardly bothering to come up for air. The sound of fucking from the next room died down, and it was only when their energy was fully spent, when their lips were chapped from being rubbed raw against the other, when they were so deliciously frustrated from being deprived an orgasm by their cages, that the kissing slowed, then stopped, each passing out in the other’s arms. *******Clay dreamt of quicksand again that night. Now though, the wind had died down, and the shadowed figure broke through the dust. Clay gaped up to see . . . his father! Reaching down, begging Clay to grab his arm so he could pull him up. All around, the other figures became clear as well. His mother was there. And Hannah. Teachers and coaches. Bearded figure he instinctively knew were future professors. They all silently urged him to grab his father’s hand. To save himself.Clay knew what he had to do now. He stopped struggling against the sand; he felt himself sinking further but this time he didn’t resist. The people in his life disappeared around him, and just before he sunk completely into darkness, the last thing he saw was his father weeping above him.******* Clay woke up with a start, his body on fire. He extricated himself from Justin’s embrace. The slighter boy sighed and rolled over but did not wake up. As quietly as he could, he tiptoed out of bed and out of the bedroom. He didn’t know exactly what time it was, but from a quick glance at the window, he could see the black of night was beginning to dissolve into the steel blue of dawn.He made his way up the staircase and down the hall, passed Tony’s room, to the master bedroom. Was he really going to do this?Yes. This was it. No more hesitation. Never again.He wrapt his knuckles against the door, holding his breath.“Come in.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Clay’s hands trembled slightly as he reached for the brass doorknob and turned. Only now did he vaguely think about the fact that he had arrived to Zach’s bedroom in the buff - naked except for the cage secured to his boy bits. But he also understood it had to be this way.He opened the door and allowed his eyes to adjust to the sight. The room was lit dimly by candles on each nightstand beside the bed and now the weak light of dawn stream in from the windows overlooking the lake.Clay’s breath momentarily caught in his throat when his eyes landed on Zach’s. He sat on the king-sized bed cross-legged, in a tight black tank top and black boxer briefs. The candle light flickered in his dark eyes. For half a second, Clay imagined he was in the presence of a demon from hell. Zach gazed intently at Clay standing frozen in the doorway. “What is it, Clay?” His voice was…neutral. There was no hint of accusation against Clay for having come to his bedroom at this ungodly hour - a glance at the undisturbed bedsheets, it was unclear whether Zach had even slept at all that night. But neither was there any indication of curiosity - no surprise. It was as if Zach knew Clay would show up like this, naked, ready to bear his soul to his master. “I want you to fuck me.”There is was. Finally, the truth. Unvarnished. Uncomplicated. Zach said nothing, but raised an eyebrow and a whisper of a smile appeared on his lips. He waited, so Clay continued.“I need you to fuck me.” Clay internally winced at the sound of the whining need in his voice, but then he thought Zach would hopefully find it appropriate. “I’m sorry for what happened back at your house. I was just so scared, and maybe I wasn’t ready then. But I know I’m ready now. I know I can serve you just as well as Alex and Tyler. Maybe better.” The lust grew coarsely within his chest and up his throat. “I’m ready for you to take me as my Asian master. I’m ready to submit. Completely.”A glinting smile was fully plastered on Zach’s face now. He beckoned Clay over and uncurled himself off of the bed, meeting the boy in the middle of the room. Clay’s body shivered as his Master towered over him.Then Zach pulled him into tight bear hug and whispered in his ear, “Welcome home,” and Clay lost it. He wept into Zach’s chest as his Master held him closer, rubbing his back, shushing sweet nothings to him. “You were always the greatest prize, Clay. The others…they needed structure. Discipline. They were already broken before they found me. But you? A good home. Loving parents. Honor roll with plans for college. A budding high school romance. You had all the makings for your typical American-boy-next-door happy ending. I knew if I could break you, anyone could fall to the might of Asian supremacy.”Clay could feel his body heat up from Zach’s words: a reminder of everything he had going for him in life and everything he was giving up. He couldn’t care about that stuff less.“Why didn’t you fuck me then?” He asked, half sobbing, half laughing.“You never asked,” Zach replied, matter of factly. He gently pushed Clay off of him by the shoulders and stared deeply into his eyes. “You know what you problem is, Clay? You over-think everything. Your constant need to understand everything was your undoing time after time. You wanted to understand the root of the white man’s inferiority but there’s no logic to human nature. Not really. We simply act our parts. Me as an Asian Master. You as a white boy inferior.”“I’m done over-thinking things, I promise.” Clay pleaded with his eyes wanting to be back in Zach’s embrace - wanting Zach’s whole body to consume him.“You’re done thinking for good,” Zach said gruffly. “Your dumb little white boy thoughts bring nothing but trouble. Same is true with your whole race. It’s time to let Master do all the thinking for you.” “Yessss,” Clay hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as his dicklet swelled painfully in its cage.“You ready to be a good white boy, pet?”Clay bit his bottom lip, vigorously nodding his head and whimpering.“Then get on your knees,” Zach growled. Clay immediately knelt down and found himself face to face with Zach’s crotch. Clay felt himself being pulled to the growing bulge of Zach’s cock, hidden only by a thin piece of black fabric. The kingly scepter that would rule Clay’s life from now on. But Zach pushed Clay’s head further down and ordered: “First, worship my feet, boy.”Clay gazed a moment at his Master’s magnificent feet before burying his tongue into the crevices of Zach’s toes. Other then a faint hint of salt and sweat, Zach’s feet tasted and smelled perfectly clean, though Clay knew he would slobber over them even if they were caked in grime. He lovingly rotated between left and right foot, progressively making them wetter with his saliva, and felt a rush of electricity flow through his body as Zach leaned over and scratched between his years, muttering “Good boy.”Clay continued to drool over Zach’s feet when his Master said, “Looks like we have company, Clay.”Refusing to peel his tongue from Zach’s skin, Clay lapped at the side of Zach’s instep and turned his eyes to the doorway. There, Justin stood, nude except for the chastity cage, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “Come here, Justin.” Clay watched Justin cross the floor as if hypnotized and when he got close enough, Zach forcefully gripped the hair at the back of the slighter boy’s head. “Finally ready to be my puppy, Justin?” Clay moaned into Zach’s toes.“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” Justin rasped breathily. “Master.”Zack snarled and jerked Justin’s head into his own. A quick yelp from Justin’s mouth was cut short as Zach’s lips smashed into his. Clay strained his eyes upward, watching as Zach’s mouth covered Justin’s, as Zach continued to press Justin’s head into his as if wanting to devour the boy. Clay felt like he might hyperventilate and so he pried his eyes off the erotic sight above him and focused back on his Master’s gorgeous feet. He only heard the two separate above him with a comic suctioning sound and then whined a little as Zach moved his feet back and sat down on the bed.Both white boys stared lustily at the Asian god before them, eyes glassy with need.“Justin, why don’t you help your brother prepare me to fuck his pussy. Your boys’ saliva is the only lube on my cock he’s going to get, so you better get it good and wet.”With that, he lowered the waistband of his boxers and out popped his gorgeous member, somehow not yet a full mast and yet still obscenely huge. Clay and Justin nearly toppled over each other to reach it, but before either could take it into his mouth, Zach grabbed them both by the hair and held them back, each boy mewling softly straining to get at the cock. Zach gently pushed them down so they were on their knees again and then directed their heads to each side of his cock so they were face to face with each other.The two boys looked directly into each other’s eyes as Zach smooshed their mouths against his engorged penis.Brothers, Clay thought. I have a brother. And it was true. Clay and Justin were brothers in white inferiority and Asian servitude.As they both mouthed the enormous girth between them, Clay thought back to their kiss last night and how now when they both opened wide enough, their lips grazed each other’s, as Zach pumped back and forth between them. An even more perfect kiss for two dumb silly white boys.After a minute or so, Zach lifted them both up onto the bed and pulled Justin into another ferocious kiss, leaving Clay to feast alone on his Master’s cock. Finally, what he had been waiting ages for.He shifted himself front and center on his hands and knees before his Master and for a moment contemplated the perfect mushroom head of Zach’s beautiful Asian cock. Then tentatively, he flitted his tongue over the top and savored the salty-sweet taste of pre-cum.Clay grew emboldened upon hearing Zach’s guttural moan into Justin’s mouth, and circled his tongue around the spongy head. Peering up at his Master, Clay saw Zach pull apart from Justin’s mouth and whisper into his ear. Grinning, Justin hopped off of the bed out of Clay’s eyesight. Clay vaguely wondered where he was off to, but any concern vanished when Zach hissed down at him, “Such a good boy, Clay. Let’s get my bone all the way down your pretty white throat. But if I feel any teeth I’ll knock them out.” Clay shivered at Zach’s effortless shift from affectionate to dominating. “Shift” was the wrong word. It was all one in the same. Clay was Zach’s to love and Zach’s to command. To control. His life was a toy in Zach’s hands to do with what he pleased, and Clay would take the kisses and hugs with the beatings and whippings without distinguishing between them - whatever Zach wanted.And then, several things happened at once. Zach placed both of his hands against the back of his head while Justin (so that’s where he went) placed his two hands on each of Clay’s butt cheeks and spread them apart.The new chill was against Clay’s exposed hole juxtaposed deliciously with the heat of Zack’s dick entering his mouth, but the sensation on his anus was quickly replaced by an entirely new feeling. A wet feeling. Clay’s brain utterly short-circuited realizing that Justin has stuck his head between Clay’s cheeks and had started lapping at his hole like a dog given peanut butter.Zach used the opportunity of Clay’s mouth widening in shocked pleasure to shove a few more inches of cock into Clay’s mouth and down his throat. Clay tried not to panic as his Master’s girth filled his airways and instinctively knew to breath through his nose. Somehow, Justin’s tongue pressing into his backside steadied him. He was being opened up at both ends, all to prepare him to take his Master’s phallus and Clay was not about to make a little thing like breathing get in the way of fulfilling his natural purpose.As he determinedly fought against his gag reflex, he could feel Justin’s tongue burrowing further inside him and briefly wondered where the hell he had learned to do this. His curiosity faded however as all other thoughts left his mind and he focused solely on opening himself, becoming the perfect vessel for his master.But almost as soon as he had reached a mental state of blissful emptiness, Zach grunted and pulled out of his mouth. Clay had only a moment to realize how good the air felt reaching his lungs again before Zach shoved him by the shoulders to turn around and he dazedly rotated to present his ass to his master. He also then found himself face to face with Justin, mouth glistening luridly, who grabbed his head and pulled him into a passionate kiss, and Clay didn’t even recoil at tasting his own ass juices in his tongue.While he continued to swap spit with Justin, however, his attention bolted elsewhere when he felt the smooth, moist head of Zach’s cock press against his equally damp asshole. He thought manically about how the spit he and Justin were sharing was the same spit that was lubing the way for Zach’s cock to slide into his ass. And then, the pressure.The idea of it just “sliding” in, Clay now understood, was laughably optimistic. Clay felt the fleshy baseball bat push against his tight entrance and true fear gripped his body. The full realization that he would be destroyed by Zach’s cock. Ripped open in half. That is, if Zach could even get it in. It seemed too ridiculously impossible in this moment.Zach must have sensed him tense up, because he smacked Clay’s ass and commanded: “You will take this Asian cock, Clay. This is happening. Now just breathe and open up that white boy pussy.”Justin pulled away from their kiss, and stared meaningfully into Justin’s eyes. He gave an imperceptible nod and whispered a simple “Push.”Zach’s domineering voice combined with Justin’s quiet encouragement somehow grounded him. Clay, still staring into Justin’s beautiful blue eyes, exhaled shakily and began pushing outward against Zach’s steel-hard manhood.When the head passed through his anal ring, Clay instinctively bucked but Zach held him firmly in place. "Take it, pet,” Zach said. “This is what you wanted. This is what you asked for.”It was what he had asked for, and as Zach pressed himself further into Clay, claiming him, Clay knew this is what he needed. But still, it hurt like a motherfucker, and he tried to stifle his pathetic whimpers from being heard.“It’s okay, boy. You can make as much noise as you want,” Zach declared. “I want everyone to hear you become my white bitch boy. Go on, howl like the white bitch dog you’re becoming!”So Clay let go.As Zach’s cock continued its relentless assault into the untapped caverns of Clay’s body, Clay whimpered and moaned and shrieked and yes, when Zach’s mighty bone pressed into that sacred spot within and the sun broke over the horizon filling the room with a fiery orange glow that matched the fire erupting in his own body, Clay howled like the bitch he was. Justin pressed gentle kisses into his cheeks and forehead and hair until Zach beckoned him up to his side.That was when Clay realized opposite the bed was a full-length mirror and the sight of the three of them was laid out bare (literally) before Clay. Clay only briefly considered his own visage, sweating, hair plastered to his forehead, tears drying on his cheeks that he hadn’t even realized he’d cried. In a word: fucked out. Okay, two words.But it was Zach behind him that stole his attention. At some point he had ripped off his tank and his muscles bulged obscenely, glistening, as he focused on pressing more and more of his incredible length into Clay. When he noticed Clay staring up at his reflection, he smirked cockily and flexed his biceps, and Justin, who was at his side, dove face first into the matted black hair of Zach’s pits, slurping greedily.Zach finally bottomed out into Clay with an anguishing groan from both and Clay’s world exploded. In that moment Alex and Tyler jumped onto the bed, showering both Zach and Clay and licks and kisses. They must have been awoken by Clay’s screams and had come to join the fun. In what was left of Clay’s conscious mind, he could see the look of pure dumb love and joy on their faces as they welcomed a new puppy brother to their perverse family of white submission.Then the fucking began. Clay would laugh if he still had the breath left forgetting that getting Zach’s cock inside was only half the battle.The pummeling against his pussy - that’s what it now was - was relentless. His moans and yelps mixed cacophonously with Zach’s powerful grunts and the other boys yips and laughter. Clay’s eyes crossed and his tongue dangled out of his mouth as pain and pleasure warred for dominance over his mind, threatening - or perhaps promising - to blow everything up within him.“Fucking take it, white boy!” Zach gasps as he pistoned in and out of Clay’s hole. “Your stupid ancestors caused so much suffering in this world and now I’m gonna wipe out their line by cunting every fucking white boy on the planet! Starting with you four.”The erotic pressure built up in Clay’s body; he believed after this was over he’d be nothing more by a smear of fluids on the bedsheets. “This is the dawn of a new world order, Clay. Asians will enslave the whole fucking white race! You’re all for that, aren’t you Clay? You’re gonna help me bring down white civilization, right, Clay?”Clay was too far gone to even consider any resistance. “YESSS!” he cried out as Zach let out an world-shattering grunt and his seed flooded Clay’s insides. Erasing him. Rewriting him. He didn’t even notice his own caged cock was spewing forward his own watery load into Tyler’s waiting mouth, who unbeknownst to Clay, had been licking at his cage for the past few minutes. He barely registered Tony standing in front of him taking a picture on his phone, a wide smile etched across his face. Once the volleys of Zach’s cum had ceased coursing out of Zach’s cock deep into Clay’s cunt, the two boys - Master and slave - collapsed in a sweaty heap, the former on top of the latter. The other boys piled on as well and Clay felt the weight of utter contentedness crush his body and his soul and his mind. The love he felt for his Master and slave brothers was too much to bear and the world faded away as his breath returned to a semi-normal rhythm and Zach’s heartbeat sounding above him became the only confirmation that time still surged forward and that he still existed at all.*******Some time later - he had little inkling when - Clay returned to his and Justin’s room on the first floor, after several more rounds of ferocious fucking. The boys were allowed the chance to rest a bit before the day began in earnest. Justin had the honor or resting alongside Master Zach, and Clay smiled thinking back to the image of Justin curling his lithe body into Zach’s muscular frame, exhaustion giving the impression of innocence though he had just been utterly and thoroughly fucked only moments before. Clay wasn’t jealous at the extra time Justin got to spend with Zach. They were all one in servitude. Clay would have a whole lifetime to be by Zach’s side - and beneath his feet.Out of nothing more than routine, he checked his phone and saw a message. From Tony’s secret number.He opened the text to find the photo Tony had taken, with all the stark beauty and drama of a renaissance masterpiece. His own contorted features crying out in ecstasy; Zach, frozen in a war-cry above him, claiming victory over his body; Justin and Alex flanking his sides, Justin still buried in Zach’s pit and Alex laying a kiss on his bicep; and Tyler’s rear-end sticking out from beneath Clay, head hidden but obviously nursing at Clay’s trapped dicklet.Below, a message: “Reason # 12: White boy pussy was made to take Asian cock.”No argument there.The text was sent to both him and an unknown number. Clay was not curious to know who the number belonged to. He was not curious about anything at all. He mind was blissfully blank - only his love for his Master and the unquenchable desire to serve his needs and the cause of Asian supremacy remained. And that was all he needed.He was finally happy.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Bryce sat on a leather armchair in the dark living room of his family’s mansion, nervously sipping on a tumbler of scotch. He was alone, his parents across the country at some charity gala or other. Normally with his parents out, he might throw a party or at least invite a few close friends over and raid the liquor cabinet for the most expensive booze. Tonight, however, Bryce was on guard. Only about an hour ago, he had gotten a text that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was from the same mysterious number that sent twelve other texts over the course of several months, each spewing a so-called “reason” why white boys should serve superior Asian men. How stupid, Bryce had thought originally. He ignored them at first. No doubt it was some bizarre stunt trying to get some reaction to use against him. Things changed when the “reasons” came with new photographic evidence. With that first dick pic, he immediately recognized it as Zach. Not that he made a habit of looking, but there was nothing wrong with the occasional locker room glimpse to check out the competition. In the most private crevices of his mind, Bryce would have to admit that Zach blew away the competition, but in any event, it left an impression. So why the fuck was Bryce sending him these fucked up texts from an unknown number? Some perverted mindfuck? Some big fuck you for a forgotten slight? At school and on the court, Zach never acknowledged anything out of the ordinary - never said a word about it or raised a suggestive eyebrow. And then there was that photo with that loser Tyler Downs, on his knees, mouth wide open with a fat cock sitting in his tongue. Then Tyler and Alex Standall, the same cock bisecting the two boys with their tongues wagging out like dogs. He didn’t really know Tyler and Alex too well. It didn’t surprise him at all that they were fags. But now Bryce was at even more of a loss. Was Zach gay? Did he just want to show Bryce the power he wielded over these scrawny fags? Why the fuck would Zach think he would care? When he got the picture of Justin, blissed out and impaled on Zach’s cock, he felt like he had been kicked in the gut. He got Justin too? Bryce was really starting to get freaked out. Now it seemed clear: Zach wanted him to submit too. This wasn’t some weird ass joke. Zach really believed all this crazy-ass shit about Asian supremacy and wanted Bryce to submit.Well fuck that.Bryce threw his phone across the room when, just a couple of nights ago, he was sent the photo of the five of them. Zach, Tyler, Alex, Justin, Clay. A fucked up little harem for Zach’s pleasure. Well if Zach thought this would somehow convince Bryce to join, he was even more insane then the texts suggested. But then there was the thirteenth text that came in tonight. When he got that text, Bryce locked all of the doors and activated the security system. Maybe he was being paranoid, but who knew what Zach was capable of.A creak from somewhere in the house made Bryce’s spine stiffen. Okay, now he really was being paranoid. He took a breath and another large gulp of scotch.In retrospect, he would have been impressed with how quietly Justin had snuck in and disarmed the security system, if it hadn’t been so fucked up. Bryce had showed him how out of kindness: so Justin could grab something from the fridge when he and his parents weren’t home. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t heard Justin’s footsteps sneaking up behind him, so that the first time he realized something was wrong was when a chloroform-soaked rag was pressed against his face, and Justin whispered in his ear to “stop fighting” as he flailed against the attack. Had Bryce had even a second or two of warning, he probably could have overpowered the thinner boy, but in his panic, he sharply inhaled the noxious fumes and immediately felt his muscles slacken. Within a minute, all had gone dark. *** Bryce didn’t know how long it had been before he came to. His vision came back slowly, his head still swimming in fog. The first thing he saw was Zach’s face smirking down on him. Another bolt of panic as he realized he was seated on the floor, his arms tied tightly behind his back, and his ankles tied together. Hogtied. He also realized that he had been stripped naked as a shiver ran through him that only had half to do with his bare ass on the cool wooden floor. As his vision expanded he realized he wasn’t alone on that score. Justin, Clay, Tyler and Alex were all on their knees at Zach’s side, naked but for pink cock cages on their private bits and what looked to be matching dog collars around their necks. Their faces were placid, eyes slightly unfocused. Bryce tried screaming out, writhing against the ropes that bound his limbs, but the bindings just cut into him, and his voice was muffled against a cloth gag that had been tied around his mouth. “Calm down there, Brycey boy,” Zach sneered. “You’re not going anywhere for a while, so might as well get comfortable.”Bryce glared up at the tall Asian teen, but kept still, his heart thundering in his ears. “Oh, Bryce. If only you hadn’t been ignoring our texts, we wouldn’t have to do this the hard way,” Zach menaced. He ruffled his hand through Alex’s hair as the blond boy preened at his touch. “But…” Zach continued. “Easy, hard. Makes no difference to me.” He reached into the pocket of the gym shorts he was wearing and pulled out something small, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger. Some kind of white, circular pill. Bryce’s eyes widened in recognition. Rohypnol. The date rape drug. Zach walked over to the armchair where Bryce had been sitting earlier and sat down. He dropped the pill into the forgotten glass of scotch, which fizzled for a moment and then came to rest. “Now. Clay here is going to take this glass and hold it to your lips while you drink it. If you try to scream when he lowers the gag or if you spit the drink out, I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp.” There was no menace in Zach’s voice now; he was just speaking factually. “Got it?” Bryce forced himself to nod his head, and Clay walked over to Zach and took the roofied scotch from the side table. The look on his face was hard to read as he walked over to where Bryce was seated. Something like a mix of pride and excitement, like he was trying to hold in his anticipation for what was about to happen. As he knelt down beside Bryce and lowered the gag, Bryce tried to plead through his eyes for some kind of help, or even just any recognition for how messed up this was, but Clay’s eyes were void of any sympathy. If anything, Clay looked as though he was excited for Bryce. Clay tipped the drink to Bryce’s mouth and, while Zach glared at him, Bryce parted his lips and let the liquid flow down his throat. “Think of it this way, Bryce. At least you know what coming, unlike your conquests.” Bryce’s face flushed and tears pricked his eyes, but he could say nothing back to Zach as Clay continued to pour the liquor into him. When he had downed the last drop, he expected Clay to replace the gag over his mouth, but instead, he just walked over to the other naked white boys and took his place beside them, waiting. “I’ve been waiting to have my fun with you, Bryce.” Bryce had the gnawing feeling that Zach was playing with his food before eating. And his ass was on the menu. But it was strange. The drug hadn’t hit his system yet but he was already experiencing a sense of eerie calm. Zach had broken into his home, had Justin knock him out, tied him up and now drugged him. It was pretty easy to see where this was going. He was, after all, not a stranger to what rape looked like. And maybe because of that, he couldn’t take it too personally. Zach was going to do what he wanted with him, and he’d take it like a man. He wasn’t going to let this break him like some uptight chick.And it wasn’t like there was anything he could do now anyway. Zach was crazy. Justin, Clay - all these boys - had lost their minds. If he tried to fight back, even if he could, who knows what they’d do to him.So yeah. He steeled himself. Take it like a man, and live another day. As good a game plan as any.“But you kept on ignoring me Bryce. Kept ignoring the texts. Ignoring the truth.”Bryce just glared up at him. Despite no longer being gagged, he didn’t think talking back would end well.“But this…” Zach reached into shorts and fished out his cock. Bryce stifled a gasp. He had seen Zach in the showers, yes, and had seen the dick pick, but seeing Zach hard in person was something else entirely. Scratch that. Zach wasn’t even fully hard yet. His dick flopped obscenely over his shorts.“You can’t ignore this, Bryce. This…”. He gave his still hardening cock a little wave. “This is inevitable.”Bryce felt his resolve begin to waiver. He stared at Zach’s impressive member with growing apprehension. “Now,” Zach said in a low growl. “You’re going to shuffle over here and suck my fat Asian cock and get it nice and wet, and you’re gonna do that because it’s the only lube you’re gonna get before I shove it in your ass.”Bryce’s heart pounded in his ears. “And if I feel any teeth?”Bryce gulped even though his mouth was completely dry. “You’ll beat me to a bloody pulp,” Bryce supplied the rest in a hoarse voice.“Quick learner,” Zach smirked grimly. He pointed to the ground in front of him, beckoning Bryce forward. Slowly, Bryce willed himself onto his knees, struggling as his ankles were still tied together. He then shuffled forward, wincing as he’s knees scraped passed the hard floor. Half a minute later, he was kneeling between Zach’s man-spread thighs. He took one moment to eye the nearly eight-inch monster cock, still not fully hard, his chin quivering.Bryce swallowed whatever pride he still had left and took the head of the cock into his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut as more of the length past his lips, but Zach commanded in a harsh voice, “Look at me.” Bryce positioned himself so that he could look up in Zach’s face, and saw his dark eyes smoldering above him, sending a shiver down his spine.As the length and girth pressed further into his throat and grew to full size, Bryce tried to block out Zach’s piercing stare, and just focus on his breathing. But now his body was getting warmer, and not just from the physical exertion of straining is body to take Zach’s cock on his knees while looking up at him.The roofies were kicking in.Bryce felt his body start to sag as the saliva in his mouth had started flowing again and was soon causing him to drool around Zach. The Asian stud sneered down at him.“Think Brycey-boy here’s ready for some real fun.” He gestured over to the other nude boys. “Alex, clear that table. Justin, Clay and Tyler, help me bring him over.”Zach pushed Bryce off of his dick, now in all its fully erected glory. Bryce felt a rush of air flow into his lungs and thought dimly that he hadn’t even realized he wasn’t able to breath. From behind him, someone untied his hands, which felt useless to his side. Then, two pairs of arms lifted him from his shoulders to standing position, but his legs felt like jello beneath him. Bryce wasn’t sure he could walk to wherever Zach wanted him to go, even if someone untied his ankles, but it seemed there would be no need. A third pair of arms wrapped around his knees and hoisted him off his feet and he was being carried off by his three classmates as he gazed at the ceiling spiraling over him.Moments later, they placed him down on the smooth marble coffee table in the middle of the room, his still-tied legs dangling over the edge. The cool stone felt good against his fevered skin. His breathing was slow and labored. Alex must have placed a throw pillow under his head because he was able to look forward at the room even though his vision was still spinning. But when Zach came into his line of sight, he became hyper focused on the muscular hunk. “Did you realize this was gonna happen, Bryce, when you got the last text? The Thirteenth Reason.” Zach smiled as he knelt down and untied Bryce’s ankles and then lifted his legs so that Bryce was bent into fetal position.”Zach recited the simple words of the text that had struck fear in Bryce’s heart: “If you don’t submit to Asian Men willingly, you will be taken forcibly.”He beckoned over to Justin and Clay who know were standing at each side of Bryce. “Take these."Justin and Clay lifted Bryce’s legs in the air on either side of his body. Bryce involuntarily moaned, feeling the cool air on his now exposed asshole. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen now Bryce. I’m going to take you. Completely. Body, Mmnd and soul. No more hiding.”Bryce whimpered.“But first we need to lock up that disgusting little worm between your legs. Alex?”The sandy-haired boy walked forward and placed a small pink cage in Zack‘s hand, identical to the one the boys were wearing on their own members. Bryce’s body flinched as Zack fitted the cage around his cock and balls.The click echoed deafeningly in Bryce’s ears as Zach clasped the tiny lock into its socket. He pulled out chain from under his shirt hanging around his neck and clipped on another small key, adding it to the four already dangling there.“You are never gonna violate another girl again, Bryce. That pathetic excuse for a dick is getting nowhere near a vagina ever again.”Zach took one last proud look at his handiwork, and then he gather the spit in his mouth and spat a glob straight onto Bryce’s upturned hole as he lined up his cock up to Bryce’s entrance. He said, “Alex, let’s give him a little bit of help. I am a merciful God after all.”Alex knelt down beside Bryce’s head, and Bryce could see him bringing a small brown bottle to his nose. Alex then clamped his other hand on Bryce’s mouth and blocked his right nostril, forcing Bryce to inhale through his left while the bottle was placed just below.The effect was instantaneous. He felt a rush of lightheadedness as pleasure popped in front of his eyes. He inhaled again, willingly, when Alex brought the bottle to his right nostril.It was like his body had been plunged into a bath of lava. Every one of his muscles seemed to stretch and separate from the other.And that’s when Zach made his own plunge.Bryce’s scream died in his throat. The wind was knocked completely out of his lungs. The pain, if there was any, only manifested through a ringing in his ears. His body couldn’t allow him feel what it actually felt like to be torn apart.Zach roared in triumph above him. “Fucking take it, white boy! This pussy is mine!” He started pummeling in and out as Bryce’s intestinal walls gripped the monstrosity that had invaded Zach’s deepest caverns.“I am going to fuck all the fucking white boys on this planet! You’ll all be my slaves. My fucking pets!“And you’re gonna help me Bryce. You’re gonna help me break all the white jocks at school. Scott Reed and Luke Holliday and that cute little freshman Charlie St. George. I’m going to break every last one of you! Fuck you all every day in the locker room.”The images flashed through Bryce‘s mind. The football team in the fall. The basketball team in the winter. The baseball team in the spring. All the white athletes, shorts down, bent over on benches in the locker room, waiting to be filled with Asian sperm from their master."Gonna stop taking showers after practice so you white boys can just lick me clean. I’ll save my sweaty balls for you, Bryce.”Now that some amount of air had returned to Bryce’s body, he began to moan. Zack’s cock was the torch setting Bryce’s body on fire. Consuming him. Transforming him.The first discernible words out of his mouth: “Yes. Yes!”He had thought he would take this fucking like a man. He was taking all right, but not as a man. He knew he could never be a man compared to Zack’s mighty being. He was a pathetic little white boy. His place was to serve strong Asian men like Zach.“You’re going to help me convert as many of your white bros as possible, right Bryce?”“Yes, Master Zach,” Bryce cried out. “We only exist to serve you.”“Me and all Asian men,” Zach growled. “And you can call me by my Chinese name, Master Shan-Yung.”"Yes, Master Shan-Yung. Our mind and body are yours!”The fucking picked up the pace. Directly above Bryce, Justin and Clay were wildly making out as they continued to hold Bryce's legs in place. Alex was running his fingers through Bryce’s hair, smiling down at him beaming with pride. Out of the corner of his eyes, Bryce spotted Tony sitting on the armchair where Zack had set while Bryce sucked him off. The Latino boy had pulled his pants down around his legs and was shamelessly jerking off his thick, brown cock. Had he been here the whole time?Bryce leaned his body forward and ran his fingers across Zach’s washboard abs. Everything was becoming too much. He felt like there was a balloon above his stomach and below his stomach pressing against his insides, ready to burst.And then it did.With one last mighty roar from Zach, Bryce felt Zack’s seed coat his insides as his own tiny dick started spewing watery semen through his cage. He squealed in agonizing ecstasy.Both boys were panting, as, with a wet squelch, Zach pulled out. Almost immediately, however, his cock was replaced by another object. Bryce peered downwards and saw Tyler’s curly hair peeking over the top of his public mound. He realized lazily that Tyler was eating Zach’s come out of his hole.Zach walked himself over to the other side of the table, his cock and balls now dangling above Bryce‘s head. He positioned himself so that he could point his cock downward and Bryce knew what he was meant to do. He opened his mouth, and Zach fed the cock that had just been in his own ass down his throat. Bryce took the cock more easily this time. Once the cock totally buried in the sheath that was Bryce’s mouth, Zac's balls rested gently on the white boy’s nose. Bryce knew he would have to get used to the smell. He was looking forward to it in fact.At his sides, Justin, Clay and Alex were planting small kisses on his neck, face and body. It felt nice. They were now one big faggoty family, Bryce supposed. Ready to serve Master Shen-Yung and be his disciples, delivering evermore weak, broken white boys for his amusement and pleasure. ***** Tony left Bryce’s house some hours later, leaving Zach and his harem of white boys to get better acquainted with each other. Brad was waiting for him in his car, parked at the curb.“So what were you doing here?” Brad asked as Tony got into the passenger’s side. He looked up at the impressive estate in awe.“Just a science project,” Tony replied, his calm demeanor giving no hint of what had truly gone on within those walls. “Doing some research on what happens when a stronger Alpha is introduced to a new pack.”“And?”“Turns out the old Alpha submits pretty quickly - he instinctively knows his new role.” Tony smirked.Just as they were about to pull away, Zach stepped out from behind the front door onto the porch, shirtless. He smiled and waved a goodbye at Brad and Tony.“Holy fuck,” Brad whispered, eyes grown wide over Zach’s chiseled body. Tony sighed. He like Brad. A lot. But he knew that someday soon he would be giving Brad over to Zach, another white boy for his collection. He wasn’t sure exactly how he was going to do it yet. Judging from the fact that Brad was still surreptitiously ogling Zach in his rearview mirror as they drove down the street, Tony suspected he wouldn’t need much convincing. Sooner or later, all white boys submit to Asian Men. End.