The year is 2034, and the BNWO is in effect. African Penis Wrestling is a popular exhibition sport that whitebois are allowed to participate in with their darker, stronger betters.

Big Dick’s Gym on Martin Luther & Grand was a real gym, not a fancy treadmill-and-bicycle spa. It smelled of Lysol and balls, hairy, sweaty, balls. And dongs, combat dongs, ’cause it was a training mecca for African Penis Wrestling.

I love African Penis Wrestling, and this is my story. I’m Kelli Sissler. The Kelli Sissler. You may have heard? No? Why, just two years ago, I got an APWA-sanctioned title shot in the Mosquito-Weight division. The rules of African Penis Wrestling are the rules of the jungle–a penis swordfight, winner takes all. Or Weiner takes all, if you will.

Well, anyway, I never seem to win (0-137), but I love the weiner game. The Combat! Blood racing! Lots of swordsmen can dish it out, but can they take it? I can. I coulda been a contender. Except–I am kind of light in the drawers, if you know what I mean. Still, we play the cards we’re dealt.

Just yesterday, I was sparring with a promising up-and-comer, Magumbo. Yes, “Jumbo” Magumbo.

I was trying to concentrate on my training in the ‘Possum’ style at the gym, you know, the martial arts style where you flop to the ground like a ‘Possum, and flick your weenie at their ankles?– Flick!–. So far, it hasn’t worked, not at all. I lacked the manpower for an effective ankle takedown, I guess.

My ‘Possum training was going nowhere when the trainer yelled, “Sissy! Kelli Sissy! You’re up. You spar with—Magumbo.”

Everyone stopped training, dropping their dumbbells. They quit dick-slapping the heavy bag. They gathered ’round the ring. This they had to see!

Magumbo was seven-foot-three and weighed 480 pounds. Most importantly, his weaponry, an African whore-crippler, was two feet long and as thick as a telephone pole! It weighed 28 pounds! My teenie weinie was 1 1/2″ long on a good day and weighed two ounces when fully erect. Which rarely happened when wrestling a sweaty, giant, muscular, sexy black man, ’cause that would be gay, right?

Anyway, I felt that this was “not fair.” His massive, throbbing, giant, heavy, veiny African penis weighed in like a toddler, and my tiny package weighs like a baby’s. This would be like sword fighting a Giant Redwood with a toothpick!

I didn’t have much time to worry about it, though. I reached out to shake hands, as a gentleman would. Instead, I found myself grabbing a giant, fleshy, meat-rocket. I turned red. He stepped back while I was still holding his weapon, and I was on my knees. I had been tricked!

“Whap! Slap! Ba-DONGA!” I was cock-slapped by a monster! @#$%&! I saw stars. Worse, the laughter. How they laughed! From the trickery? No–no, dammit. They were laughing at my straining manhood. I can’t help it — sometimes combat gets me excited. I’m a warrior!

“Aw–baby has a tiny wittle boner!” Magumba growled in his deep, manly voice.

“The better to beat you with, you–you–brute!”

He bent way over and got all up in my grill. “Were you going to call me a nigger?!” he shouted.

“The bigger they are, the harder they fall!” I pronounced. I moved my gym shorts to the side and unleashed my short whiteboi penis. Behold! But he spun me around like he was handling a baby doll, and gave me a big, old wedgie.

“Bitch got a nice ass,” he said and tapped me on the shoulder. What did he want now?? I turned and found myself face to face with a four-inch-thick ebony trouser snake. My soft tushie had aroused the monster! Whatever advantage I had had with my micro-stiffy was gone. “BAM!!!” I was cock-slapped to the ground. I felt dizzy. I hopped right up and tried a flying stiffy attack. “Bink.”

“BOOM!!!” Nut shot. I fell to the mat and felt my trunks being pulled down. With sudden shame, I remembered that I had forgotten that I was wearing lacy red panties under my trunks. Hey, I like the way they feel. Give me a break.

Magumba whistled, low and appreciative. “Dat one juicy azz. Submit!”

“Never!” I shrieked, like a little girl.

“Submit, whiteboi!” He was greasing up his meat-hammer with about a quart of Vaseline.

“OK! But I’ll get you next time!” I giggled. “Ya big lug!” I felt the massive African penis penetrate my pussy, I mean, my anal opening. It made me feel—funny. Not funny ‘ha-ha’, funny ‘queer’.

My last thought was “N-o-o-o-o!” as he jack-hammered my asshole with his massive black cock, quick and plenty.

I came to in the locker room. Someone had dragged me from the body fluid-drenched ring and propped me up by my locker. My assole is still gaping and leaking cum.

Oh, well. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?

Right?

 

The End.

 

 

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