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Bobby's Fate and Future: The Ultimate Transplant!---The Final Triumph of Chinazaa and a Chinagirl!!!

Hi Kids! I know you are wondering why I haven’t made any blog entries for such a long time, it seems like an eternity already, but tragedy takes a lot out of you, and we have been so busy dealing with the changes.

It all started with our going to see Titanic, Big Leon back on leave from his Army unit in Afghanistan, my number two Black Bull Marty and his longtime girl and fiancée Michelle, and Bobby. We all got dressed up for the occasion and went out clubbing after the flick, all three of us wearing matching Chinese qipao dresses with long seductive slits up the sides, mine red, Michelle’s black and Bobby’s a silk pink.

The two men were getting drunker and drunker through the night and more and more horny, and even Bobby, with the cosmetic makeup and hairstyle that Michelle, who owns a beauty parlor gave to Bobby got him up to where he picked up a black boyfriend coming on to him, rubbing up against his ass while disco dancing.

Well Marty was clearly out of control with his ... binge and got way too ..., mixing it up with a lot of pills and powder of the wrong kind. Michelle was going along with him, drink for drink and pill for pill, I guess she was looking forward to the wedding they had planned for June, after being together for seven years and their having finally saved up enough money to buy an upscale home with a swimming pool and big backyard for the future kids. They were planning to start on a family right after the wedding, with a month-long honeymoon already booked in Jamaica to get things rolling.


Well, after we left the club in Hollywood at 5AM in the morning, Marty out of his mind, he got it into his mind to race Big Leon back to our house, showing off his new Porsche GT2. With Michelle splayed out, eyes dialated in the shotgun seat beside him, he wheeled out of the rock club parking lot burning rubber like a fiend and swearing he would be waiting for us.

Big Leon was never one to back off from a challenge and we wheeled off like a banshee after them, me fondling Big Leon’s crotch in the front seat him driving, and Bobby and Tivo, the black stud he had picked up in the club fondling Bobby’s tits under his dress and forcing his face into his unzipped crotch while he gave his massive black cock drunken head.

Well Big Leon was never a slouch in racing and we drove like a banshee, foot-to-the floor but we couldn’t catch up with that new Porsche of Marty’s and we could just hear him laughing us down as we raced over the empty Freeway. We started to catch up when we started up to the hills along Mulholland Drive, but could never get up with him completely. Finally, as we got near home in the Canyon we pulled around the last few curves. But just then, instead of cruising home we got the shock of our lives. We saw Marty’s new GT2 go out of control and smash into a massive Eucalyptus tree on the last switchback. The entire front of the car had disappeared into a crumpled mess, and as we drove up we saw Marty hanging unconscious from his seat belts over the collapsed wheel and more horrible still, we saw Michelle sprawled out over the crumpled hood, her head a bloody pulp against the tree, she having no seat belt on, having gone straight through the windshield and into the tree trunk!


Needless to say, we were on the mobile phone in a second calling 911 and then racing over to try to pull them free of the wreckage, the engine flaming up and us going ballistic, shouting and screaming as we feared the whole thing was going to explode from the leaking gasoline.


Luckily Big Leon had handled a lot of similar situations and worse in Kandahar Province in Afghanistan and he knew what to do, pulling Marty and Michelle’s unconscious bodies free of the wreck and giving CPR and all. By the time the wreck started to burn we could hear the sirens coming up the canyon road, and lights started to go on in the houses nearby. Then the firetruck arrived and they put out the fire before the main gastank blew, and the ambulance Paramedics were on the case, giving Marty and Michelle everything they could think of as they placed them on gurneys and rushed them to the nearest hospital.


We followed and began our vigil while we waited for the news from the Emergency Room and operating theater. The good news was that Marty was relatively unhurt, as he had always automatically buckled up whenever he was in a car. The bad news was that Michelle was in a coma, with major brain damage. She was stabilizing, but nobody could say if she would die or not. Only time would tell. But the brain damage was so major that the doctors saw little chance she would ever walk or function again—probably would be paraplegic or total paralysis even if she regained consciousness, which was iffy in itself.


We went home and immediately collapsed into ..., worn out with the stress and the lack of .... When we went back two days later Michelle’s condition had stabilized but had not improved. For the forseeable future she would be, in effect, “a vegetable” as they say. Dr. Laureen, Marty’s best buddy from the Veterans’ hospital in Westwood and a top female surgeon came to visit and checked all the charts for Michelle and tried to talk to Marty, but he was in a massive depression. After he was discharged from care at the hospital, he refused to leave but just sat at the foot of Michelle’s bed weeping or silent, going days on end, and seemed to be having a mental breakdown out of his grief and immense guilt at having caused it all, as well as his intense love for Michelle, saying if she died he would only want to die himself, and moaning and groaning about how they were just going to be married, and how they had so much planned to start their family with children and all, going on an on, repeating the same thing like a broken phonograph record slowed down to a depressed moaning and scratching sound.

Well some grief and pain is permanent, but for me and Big Leon and Dr. Laureen, time worked its inevitable way, and though we went to see Michelle regularly, always finding Marty at the foot of her bed holding his grim vigil, we gradually adjusted to life going on. After three weeks the doctors gave no hope for any recovery and we resigned ourselves to her vegetative state, realizing there was nothing we could do to change what had happened. Dr. Laureen used her connections at the Veteran’s Hospital to get Michelle transferred over to her facility in Westwood, using Michelle’s veteran’s coverage as she had been a Navy nurse before leaving the service and opening her cosmetics and beauty parlor business. There she got the best experts on the case but the doctors’ consensus was always the same: she would remain in her vegetative state indefinitely, and that her condition would probably deteriorate steadily until she would die.

Marty, however, seemed to be in massive denial, even though he was nearly immobilized with grief and guilt. Or probably because of it he couldn’t stop living in the fantasy world that she would the next morning open her beautiful eyes and forgive him and that they would then walk down the alter, fly off to Jamaica for their honeymoon and begin to have their first baby of the big family they had planned. Every two weeks he would call the travel agency and reschedule the airline and hotel tickets and call the church and reschedule the wedding date, until Big Leon had to call them back and explain the situation and tell them to please humor Marty by being polite and taking his call, but just to never mind about the rescheduling because it wasn’t never going to happen.


Two months later Dr. Laureen took Big Leon and me out to dinner after we visited Michelle at the VA and let us in on the grim news that the latest tests showed progressive organ failure, and that it was a dead certainty that Michelle couldn’t last another three or four months before death set in. She said she tried to tell Marty and get him out of denial, but all he did was talk about how he was sure they would pull through and they would laugh about it all in twenty years with their children surrounding them on Thanksgiving Days.

We tried to bet through to Marty but he was in a dream world by now that he couldn’t get out of and reality couldn’t seep into. Two weeks later Michelle had a stroke and even Marty could tell from her looks that the end was approaching, and his depression became more and more severe, even as he kept up the fictions of his denial, and he spent most of the time outside the hospital in a dead ... that never stopped.

One day the VA orderly called us to come and take Marty away as he was ... out of his mind and weeping on the floor in front of Michelle’s bed and causing a scene nobody could put up with. Big Leon was back on duty in Afghanistan, so I got Bobby to go with me. I had Bobby put on a hip-hugging miniskirt and a low-cut blouse, hoping that maybe a little sex interest might help pull Marty out of his mental state.

When we got there Dr. Laureen was nursing Marty back to semi-sanity after trying to break through to him the reality that it was the beginning of the end for Michelle and that we all had to adjust to that reality. He seemed to be beginning to accept it as we entered Michelle’s private room, crying out loud and lamenting that he would never have the beautiful children that he and Michelle had planned, which crazy as it was we thought was a good sign that he was beginning to accept the reality.


We were wrong. It was just when we entered and Bobby sat down right across from him on the low couch to the side of the bed and unavoidably gave Marty a full peek at the crotch of his bridal-white lace panties under his mini-skirt that Marty was struck dumb and silent, until we thought maybe he had had a stroke out of grief himself. He just stared and stared between Bobby’s bridal-white lace stockings at his pure white crotch, not even raising his eyes to his face.
Then an immense smile widened over his face, and we thought he was going mad, and it widened into an immense horselaugh, and then he started dancing around the room yelling at the top of his voice: “Yeah! Yeaaaah! Yeaaeaaeaah! We gonna do it! Motherfucking Right we are going to do it!”


Dr. Laureen shut the door so that security wouldn’t come and take the madman away, and she and I tried to calm him and get him to sit down. But instead, incredibly he went over to Michelle’s vegetating body and lifted the gown and covers, exposing her bare pussy, which had a cather running out of it, and then he picked Bobby up in one swoop and set his butt down on the steel railing at the foot of Michelle’s bed, splaying his legs apart, his lace-covered pussy face-to-face with Michelle’s naked and still beautiful black-lipped pussy.


‘Yeaaaah!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, holding Bobby’s quaking and trembling legs splayed beside his ears, his head bent up propped against Marty’s massive muscular chest so that Bobby, looking down his legs and past his own pantied crotch saw before him the gaping, beautiful black-lipped cunt of the comatose Michelle staring back at him like an unavoidable destiny.


“I’m talking about a full-womb and pussy transplant, Laureen……..That’s what I’m talking about! I knew God would find us a way out and He has! Hell, I read on Yahoo about face transplants, heart transplants, every kind of transplants! God promised Michelle our children and by God she is going to have them with me! Even if her body dies her womb is going to bring her spirit back in her children! You can arrange it Laureen! We got to, we got to do it! It’s God’s will, and sure as God is black, sure He is going to find a way for Michelle to live on……just like the Titanic song….I know that the heart will live on…..I know her baby-making womb will live on!”


“ It’s possible Marty, but it’s never been done. Sure they just completed full face transplants and in the Middle-East they have been successful with uterus transplants from woman to woman but there has never been one from a woman to a man. Sure, in theory it would work…….we would have to transplant the entire reproductive system from Michelle into Bobby----that includes not only the womb—the uterus—but the eggs for the new babies would require that we transplant Michelle’s ovaries and vagina and pussy right up into Bobby’s belly----Yes, it could be done in theory, but it has never been done yet anywhere in the world.

There is a team of specialists across the road at UCLA that has been doing uterus transplants to women and there is a team of gay doctors, headed by two Jewish Lesbians, who have a project for transgender uterus transplants, but it has never gotten off the drawing board. We would have to overcome the tissue rejection problem----the surgery itself would be routine, but the real problem would be how to keep Bobby’s immune system from rejecting the transplant. If we could solve that problem it could be done! Michelle is still having her period regular even now in her coma, so that would be no problem and her ovaries are packed with a lifetime of eggs for beautiful black babies---your sperm could fertilize them and Bobby could carry the black baby to full term---we might need a C-Section on him since the muscles wouldn’t be exactly the same, but that’s no matter since 30% of babies are C-Sections these days anyway.


Yes, it could be done if the rejection problem could be overcome!-------------I’ll talk to Rachel and Leah, the lesbian head of the Transgender Uterus Transplant Project at UCLA and get them over immediately! It would make them word famous to deliver the first baby born of a birth-male, and with it being a beautiful black baby I wouldn’t be surprised if we all got invited to dinner at the White House with the First Family if we can pull it off! Marty, you’re a genius!---We should send you to Med School and put you on the staff!”


Then Marty set Bobby down on the couch, legs still splayed open and fell on his knees before Michelle, kissing her unconscious face and then her beautiful, black-lipped pussy, crying controllably and saying: “Baby, Baby God will save us! God will make it happen! I swear to you on our children’s souls that you will live on and mother our beautiful black children! Just like in the Bible and the Handmaid’s Tale, where the Handmaid bears the ... on the mother’s knees and acts as her womb for her!” And unbelievably to say, as he smothered her with kisses and tears, there seemed to be an inexplicable light emanating from her, centered between her still-lovely legs and radiating out to fill the entire room, a kind of Kirillian aura, that seemed to be a sign of God’s grace upon her. Bobby’s eye were transfixed, dialated by a power beyond himself, and never moved from total absorbtion from the black-lined, divinely beautiful lips and clitoris surrounded by the radiant aura before him, like a church painting of the Adoration by Raphael or El Greco.


The next day Dr. Rachel Bernstein and Dr. Leah Cohen, the two Jewish lesbian chief surgeons of the UCLA transplant task ... met with us all again in Michelle’s private room at the VA.


“It is quite possible” said Rachel, who was a good friend of Dr. Laureen, “…but a lot will depend on new techniques for suppressing transplant tissue rejection by the recipient host, and a lot will depend on tests and good luck. First we will have to do a complete workup on both the donor and the recipient to see if they are compatable. The fact that Bobby is already fully feminized on female hormones, estrogen, prolactin, etc. gives us a big head start.”


The next few days were a flurry of laboratory workups for both Bobby and Michelle. We knew Bobby and Michelle had the same ... type AB, but we needed to know more about their tissue types. Dr. Rachel dd a full HLA scan on both Bobby and Michelle, and we waited on tenterhooks for the results.
“Amazing!” said Rachel as she returned from the laborary with the two files, “…it’s incredible but Bobby and Michelle match up over 90% on the HLA Tissue types!

That is incredibly rare and reduces the chance of transplant organ rejection by a big factor! Based on this I can recommend that we go forward. We will still have to use all of our technological tool kit to prevent rejection. Luckily the donor is still alive and we can harvest cells from her body to prepare his body for the uterus, vagina and ovary transplant. Step one will be microtransplants and stem cell cell therapy. We will take key cells from Michelle’s body and inject them into Bobby’s body slowly and gradually. That way we can fool Bobby’s immune system into accepting them as parts of his own body before the actual organ transplant. It works sort of like an inoculation vaccine in reverse, with the Bobby’s body reacting to small portions of Michelle’s cells until they are accepted as being Bobby’s own cells by his immune system.

Then we’ll work with the “Tregs”---T Cell Regulators, I mean and turn off his immune response. Finally, to make sure, we’ll do bone marrow transplants of Michelle’s bone marrow into Bobby’s bones. Bone marrow contains the ...-making stem cells that make ... and immune system factors, so the more we replace Bobby’s immune system with Michelle’s the less likely that the uterus and vagina would be rejected.”


“Fantastic” said Dr. Laureen turning to me to explain, “….You see the operation by now has become routine to transplant the organs, connect up the arteries and ... supply and connect the nerves and other components. The real danger comes after the operation when the recipient’s body may reject the transplant. For some simple organs this is not too much of a problem since we have a lot of immune-suppresant drugs. But the problem the immune-suppressant drugs would have a harmful effect on the ovaries and uterus and might cause miscarriages, and if there was a baby, chemotherapy during pregnancy would be quite dangerous. But since we have the donor in a coma and can harvest her cells to prepare Bobby’s body, and we are working from a good ... and tissue match, we have an excellent chance of preventing the problem before it starts!”


The next few weeks were daily visits with me driving Bobby to the hospital each day for his injections of cells from Michelle’s body, as well as enhanced estrogen and prolactin hormone therapy to speed the transition from male to female. Dr. Rachel injected Michelle’s milk producing cells into Bobby’s breast, hoping to get them to grow more milk ducts while getting Bobby’s body to treat Michelle’s cells and organs as his own. That way Bobby's body would slowly and gradually begin to recognize Michelle's cells as his own, a kind of vaccination process, and when the full reproductive tract was transplanted intact and connected--Michelle's ovaries, uterus,vagina and black-lipped clitoris and vulva--transplanted as a complete set and intact package, then there would be no rejection reaction of Michelle's organs. Androgen suppressors wiped every trace of male hormone from his system.Bobby began to look as radiant as a pregnant mother already with Michelle’s cells growing inside of him!


But rarely does a story not have negative turns. After the first month, especially after the bone marrow transplants by which Michelle’s immune system began to take dominance over Bobby’s own, Bobby began to be fearful of the very painful needles harvesting his bone marrow and injecting Michelle’s. One day he refused to go to the hospital for his treatment. I called Marty and he went ballistic, driving oven in his Probation Department car. He slapped Bobby around and butt-fucked his sissy ass, calling him a fucking wimp. Then he told him how it was going to be: “Here’s your choice Bobby---you go through with the program and get the cunt, or I violate your Probation and you serve out the rest of your sentence doing hard time---that is fourteen years if you have forgotten---and don’t forget that the Chicano gangs are still after you for that statutory ... of the young Chicana, and you are going to be open season. I will guarantee that you serve in the hardest and meanest ward in San Quentin.”


Bobby had no choice. He was deadly afraid of going back into prison where he had already been gang raped sixteen times and was sure he would never come out alive or unmaimed. He was not the kind who could survive inside, and would be caught between the Chicano and Black gangs. He already had to wear an ankle-bracelet that told Marty, his Probation Officer his every move and was not allowed to leave the house without Marty’s permission. Plus he knew that to stay with me he would have to serve by black bulls fully. There was no choice and Bobby sullenly got into the car to go the the hospital for his treatment. Soon there was little left of his own immune system and Michelle’s stem cells and T Cells began to take over his bones and then his bloodstream. His ... and body was a sea of estrogen. Little by little, whatever that was left of him was washed down the toilet, and a woman’s hormones and tissues began to take command. Everyone said he was radiant!----beginning to be beautiful like a real woman!


In the process, since he was in the hospital every day he also got some cosmetic surgery, feminizing his facial feature and body, and Marty asked for some enhancements of the lips to make them more Negroid, and he gave the doctor a photo of Michelle in her glory days and asked for the same full black lips with a bow curve and pout, and the doctor flared Bobby’s nostrils out a bit to give a hint of African ...—a touch of nostalgia on Marty’s part as he said he wanted to be thinking of Michelle when he shot his sperm into Bobby’s new cunt, and the baby should also think of his true Afro Mama when he was nursing at Bobby’s teats.


Finally the big day, "D-Day" as Dr. Rachel put it, standing for "Dickless Day," came unexpectedly when Michelle took a turn for the worse and it was expected she would pass. Bobby was rushed to the UCLA surgical center and prepped. Then we heard that Michelle had passed away. Her body was immediately transferred to the UCLA center, about a mile away, packed in ice. Dr. Rachel and Dr. Leah got us permission to watch the operation, and we dressed in hospital scrubs and masks and entered the operating theater.

Then, Marty did something strange, just before the operation was to begin. He brought out a package of exotic herbs and opened it up and put it in a beaker. The name on the package was sort of strange, "CHINAZAA" and I asked him if it cam from China, but he said no, it was African. Then he ground it with a mortar and pistel until it was a powder and then mixed it winto a glass and added some strong .... It was so strong that even smelling it almost made me half ... and half horney. He then started to mumble over it, some kind of mumbo jumbo that sounded like voodoo or something, and he kept stirring the drink. Then, just when Bobby had his public region shaved and his dick looked like a baby boy's from all the female hormones, Marty gave me the CHINAZAA drink and said, since I was from China, that had to have something to do with CHINAZAA spiritually even though it was African, so it would be good for me to give Bobby the drink, his last as a white male, and which would be taken into his ... when he became a white female. Marty closed locked the door for a short time and pulled out his hyper-manly and beautiful black cock and then rubbed the CHINAZAA herbs that were left over onto his cock and then onto Bobby's cock-remnant as I forced Bobby to suck down the CHINAZAA potent concoction, which seemed to bubble up like some black-magic potion the rich, and immediately his eyes became dialeted like a zombie! Then, strange to say, even though his dick was pathetic to begin with, it started swell and then to writhe and flail itself in a mad frenzied agony, like a live snake thrown into an open fire; then slowly it shriveled up into a wretched repulsive worm-like shadow of its former self, like some kind of a fried chicken-penis, and Bobby's face was contorted into an inhuman, ugly shape like a devil-demon for a minute or two, before he ..., and then the next minute it was completly transformed, and a kind of holy light began to radiate out of his face, somehow become inexpressibly beautiful and woman-like before my very eyes!


Then Bobby was loaded onto the gurney and wheeled into the operating room and I watched Bobby’s eyes as the anesthetic was administered, the last time he would look on the world with even nominally male eyes. I held his hand and kissed him and told him to be brave as he would always welcome with me and my black bulls. Then I watched as Dr. Rachel cut away the last vestiges of his manhood, sad remnant that it was and taped it to his belly, later to be sewn into Michelle’s lovely black clitoris to guarantee sensitivity.

Then she gutted him like a pig, peeling back the skin of the abdomen and taking out his prostate and remaining testicular tissue, tossing it into a waste can on the floor. Then Michelle’s beautiful body, lovely even in death was wheeled in on a gurney, and the entire reproductive tract was cut lovingly out by loving lesbian hands, the vagina, ovaries, and the dark-black pussy lips all connected intact, and then it was slowly, hour after hour, inserted into the empty shell of the unmanned Bobby, and then sewn and stitched, using microsurgery under a large microscope and laser suturing, until finally he was sewn together, like a turkey prepared to put into the oven. Then the last I saw of him was him being wheeled out into the recovery room, only the black, deep-black lips of Michelle’s labia, two-inch ebony clitoris and the pinkness of her inner vagina visible between his legs.


“That was the easy part!” squealed Dr. Rachel an hour later as I kissed her full on the lips in congratulations. “…..now comes the hard part----making sure there is no tissue rejection---but everything looks great! ---with luck all the inoculation techniques and Michelle’s bone marrow which has taken command of Bobby’s immune system will welcome her womb to its new home.”


“In a few months, after the healing, little Bobby in going to find his miniscule white brain driven by the raging hormones of a full-blooded black woman, her ebony ovaries packed with black babies crying out for black sperm. You know Sarah, when we did the operation we discovered that Michelle had massive and potent ovaries—about two and one-half times the normal size for a woman and over five times the normal hormonal levels-----Little Bobby has got himself a womb raised from the dead and raging for only one thing and one thing only: LUCIOUS, BEAUTIFUL, HARD-THRUSTNG LIFE-GIVING BLACK COCK!” Added Dr. Leah, who though the more reserved of the lesbian pair, seemed to have a sense of the mistress’ sadism in her. “I’d guess he’ll need about a quart of black semen a day to keep him from frothing at the mouth in heat, or, I guess he’s going to be frothing at the mouth from now until menopause, one way or the other!-----from the look of those ovaries in him, his hormonal system is going to be permanently Africanized from now on in!” she added with a smirk. We kissed and smiled together, beaming and giggling together the luscious fun of a dominant mistress in full command!


“Yeah, Baby!” chimed in Dr. Rachael, “ and I’d love to see the look on that white wimp’s face at least two more times: the day he loses his virginity to his first black cock in his new womb---you know we even saved a stretch of skin to fashion a virgin hymen for Marty to pop open and bloody up----and the day he hits the maternity ward and sees that first black baby with its dark black head crowning and then looking out at Bobby from between his white legs in stirrups, pushing through the deep black lips of that vagina and into his pussy mama’s eyes! You’ve got to video it for me Sarah and send me the video!........But don’t worry Sarah, the brain is still the biggest sex organ, and any residual maleness in him will still be driven to the last place it wanted to go as a male sissy slave, between your beautiful legs! But his tongue will be the only thing it will still be connected to! You’ve still got him by the short hairs, but those will be pussy hairs from now on! Take your bitch home with our love and blessings, Sarah!”


“That’s a promise! All’s well that ends well!” I squealed back, kissing them both and playing tongues as we giggled at the thought of Bobby’s future!


The next two months we were on full alert, with hospital monitoring equipment in Bobby’s room ready to detect any signs of tissue rejection or infection. However luck was with us as the reaction was minimal with the preventative T-Cell therapy and the bone marrow transplants that largely substituted Michelle’s immune system for Bobby’s. It was a joyous day for all of us, Bobby excepted when Bobby got his first period! He was terrified at the ... and ran into my room crying hysterically, thinking the worst, until Dr. Laureen arrived and confirmed that it was a healthy discharge and that the ovaries were intact and producing healthy black eggs! I had to teach Bobby like a big ... how to use tampons and deal with the cramping, and he was soon accustomed to woman’s fate!


A full four months later all systems were go and Marty was chomping at the bit for his long-awaited dream of popping Bobby’s cherry between those luscious black-as-black labia lips engrafted onto his white-as-white perenium!
We all felt it should be a special moment for Bobby’s black cock unflowering, and so we arranged a little at-home mock wedding ceremony, and I loaned Bobby my old wedding dress, getting it out of mothballs from our original legal wedding so many long years ago. I served as his "father" to "Give the Bitch Away" and doubled up as a combination "Best Woman-Ring Bearer" as well, and Dr. Laureen, Dr. Rachel and Dr. Leah officiated the ceremony as woman-priest(esses)in pronouncing Marty and Bobby “Man and Bitch.”

Dr. Rachel read the rites: "Do you Bobby take this Black Man as your Master and Black Bull, to have and to hold you, to inseminate sacred Black Life into your body, and to command every orifice of your body, so long as he shall will?"

"I do, Maam." Bobby docilely replied, his eyes cast downward.

"And do you, Marty, take Bobby as your Breeding Bitch, the willing recepticle of your sacred and all-potent Black Seed, and accept dominion over all of his or her orifices, and promise in memory of our sacred ... Michelle, to inseminate her womb through the organs within him, in memory of her, and through the issue of her body, to preserve your love for Michelle in the Fruit of Her Womb?"

"I do."

"And do you Bobby, accept the seed of your Black Master in memory of our divine ... Michelle, and accept the sacred trust of her organs to bring her back to life through the Fruit of Her Womb and the bodies of the gorgeous Black Children that shall issue from the Seed of Your Master and the Womb of Our ..., Michelle, on penalty of your own death should any harm come to them?"

"I do so, Maam." he responded solemnly.

"And do you also Bobby, take our ... Sarah as your Mistress, DIW and Dominant Spirit-Mother, and promise to obey her in every way in her exercise of dominion over your new body and over your mind and soul, in fruitful union with the Dominion excercised by your Black Master, Marty?"

"I do so with all my love and devotion, Maam" blurted out Bobby.

Then, I now pronounce you Black Master and Breeding Bitch, Alpha Mistress and Serving Bitch."

There was a riot of shouting, dancing, applause, music and joyful hugging!

"You may now consummate your new union,“ Dr. Rachel pronounced, lifting her outstretched arms towards Heaven.



For a wedding present I bought Bobby a new Moroccan-leather Breeding Bench, installed in front of a new flat-screen television wall unit on which Bobby could see himself from the rear when strapped into the cuffs of the breeding bench, so that he could see himself screaming and the virgin ... flowing when his new “Black Daddy” entered him for the first time!

We set up the Breeding Bench on a low stage in front of the dining table. Dinner was served and the caterers had supplied a copious sufficiency of appetizers and a nine-course dinner. All the guests began to enjoy their meal and many a toast and speech were shared amoung the joyous celebrants.

Then, when the wine bottles were emptied, the Consummation Ceremony was begun. Bobby was led in his wedding dress to the stage and mounted it. His wedding dress was doffed, leaving him in his lace undies and lace garter and hose. Dr. Rachel and I led him to the new plush Breeding Bench and strapped him in, cinching the leather cuffs around his ankles and wrists. Three video cameras recorded from front, back and the side.

Marty stripped off his Tux and there were "Oohs and Ahs" as we all caught sight of his ten-inch Black Manhood. He took another swig from the Champagne bottle, and his lucious black cock rose to full manhood before all eyes to see. Then he stripped off Bobby's pure-white lace wedding panties and what a sight! Michelle's black-as-black clitoris and black labia-lips were swollen beautifully between Bobby's white ass-cheeks! What a contrast! We could see the virgin hymen which Dr. Rachel had implanted still intact over Bobby's newly-minted cunt!

Then Marty moved to Bobby's haunches, splayed doggie-style in front of all the guests as they took their strawberry shortcake deserts and sipped wedding Champagne. With a ... and will and elegance that seemed godlike, Marty grabbed Bobby's long train of hair down his bare back and pulled his face upwards, arching his back. A quick movement of the left hand unfastened Bobby's white lace bra and it fell onto the Breeding Bench, letting his full and dark-nippled breasts dangle like a lucious fruit dessert before the assembled guests at their feasting table. Then with one godlike thruse Marty thrust forward, breaking Bobby's hymen!

"Mommy, Mommeeeeeeeeee, Mommeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" he squealed like a helpless ...!

The guests were rendered silent as an unworldly shriek, hardly human, issued from Bobby's grimaced lips and he seemed to lose consciousness for a full minute, the red virginal ... flowing copiously down the insides of his legs, bloodying his white lace garters and hose and dripping onto the Breeding Bench! Then as Bobby responded to the forceful and manly thrusts another scream forced itself from his lips and his first womanly orgasm shot from his throat like from the mouth of a cannon exploding!

"Unghhhhhhhhhhhhghhhghhhhghghgh! Daddy! Daddy!" he gaped, moaned and screamed.

Once again, as Bobby's face twisted into unrecognizable shapes everyone at the table burst out into a thunderous cheering and downing of toasting glasses of Champagne as Marty, seemingly mezmerized in the consummation of his love in Michelle's fertile womb, slammed his massive beautiful black cock home again and again and again, the crowd shouting with dozens of voices in unision hands clapping at each thrust:

"Daddy!Daddy!
Daddy!Daddy!
Daddy!Daddy!

Black Daddy!
Black Daddy!
Black Daddy!
Black Daddy!


And then with on final all-powerful surge Marty came full ... inside of Michell's beloved womb, and the luscious black cum spurted like an unstoppable river, the life-giving black river flowed and flowed, overflowing its banks in full flood, surging again and again and again in its new home within Bobby's body until the massive and unstoppable stream of black life-... overflowed onto the Breeding Bench below!

Then, after the First Consummation, Marty and I joined in completing the Ceremony as we had rehearsed it. Marty took his still iron-hard lucious and beautiful black cock, fresh from the de-flowering, from between Bobby's newly opened black labia-lips and, still wet with virginal ..., thrust it down Bobby's gagging throat and quivering, sucking lips, raping his throat for the first time as a woman-bitch, leaving his mouth with its enhanced African Cupid-Bow lips coated with Virginal Red, lthat looked like lip-gloss from a Cosmo photo-shoot!

Then it was my turn as Bobby's Bitch-Mistress to complete the follow-up. I hiked up my Chinese qipao, a high-slitted long dress, and donned my twelve-inch Black Super-Dong strap-on dildo. I inched it between his shuddering ass-cheeks until it too was covered with virginal .... Then I grabbed the hair on the back of Bobby's shaking head and pulled it back sharply, causing his tits to sway in front of the whole crowd. I then caressed the Super-Dong and slipped its massive black head against Bobby's quivering asshole, lubricating it with still not quite quenched virginal ... and Marty's still-hot black semen. Then with one quick thrust I raped Bobby's asshole for his first time as a Bitch-Woman! He screamed,squealed and shook like an epileptic as the crowd roared back in a jubilant and joyful response:

Moan Bitch!
Moan Bitch!
Moan Bitch!
Moan for your Mama!

Then Dr. Rachel pronounced the Ceremony complete: "With the opening of all three orifices of this Consummated Bitch, our ceremony and his consummation is complete! Three cheers for the new Master, Mistress and Bitch! Hip, Hip, Hooray! Hip, Hip, Hooray! Hip, Hip Horray!" everyone shouted at the top of their lungs in joyful outburst!

Bobby then realized his fate: he would be rabid for black cock for the rest of his life, or at least until menopause, and he would bear many beautiful black children, many new-born manly black cocks would pass outward through his new lovely black labia-lips to enter the world for the first time, and many a black ... of his own or ... of his fertile and beautiful mistresses bearing a new race of masters, consummate black athletes, black artist-geniuses, black statesmen, black warriors and black supermen, would cut their first prodigious teeth bloodying his sore nipples as he nursed them with his warm breastmilk, fruit of the life-giving black seed, bearing the life-... which his own shriveled, detested, dead amd death-filled mock-male white organ now happily gone and garbaged forever had never been remotely capable of.

The Pink Champagne flowed into the early hours of the morning, and the strawberry desserts continued to be served. Bobby's pussy also remained pink between the black lips, as the virginal ... mixed with Marty's white semen gushing out of Bobby's cunt. Then we unstrapped Bobby and led him to the washroom to clean up, and then he rejoined us, seated between Marty and myself, and we partied into the early hours of the next morning trading many a kiss and many a joke amoung friends!

The rest is history, as Marty, so insanely in love with Michelle and devoted to the fetish or her black-lipped womb, worked out his dark passion and his future progeny day after day, Bobby driven equally insane in each breeding session by Michelle’s African hormones raging in his bloodstream and submerging whatever was left of his wimped-out white brain in the incessant rush of ebony orgasm!


The end of the story was only the beginning, however, as are all stories, as two months later Bobby came into my bedroom in a panic, not understanding what was so very wrong, and running around like a headless chicken! He has missed his period! A trip to the VA Hospital laboratory settled the problem happily, however, as the pregnancy test was positive! Marty was overjoyed! Bobby looked more and more radiant even as he tried in confusion to understand what was happening to his body. Marty was in Seventh-Heaven and passed a big box of Cuban black-skinned cigars around, and even I smoked one down to the stub!


A few weeks later Dr. Laureen gave him the follow-up tests, drawing some amniotic fluid from his growing abdomen. The news was an overwhelming joy to us all after all of the suffering and trauma we had been through! It was a beautiful, fully genetically black boy, and the sonogram showed the loveliest oversized black cock growing healthily in Bobby’s belly!

The sight of that black cock within him on that sonogram seemed to bring Bobby a “Peace that passeth understanding” with a new gentleness and as he felt his fate and future growing within him day by day, his breasts growing day by day fuller and heavier and marked with new purple veins breaking out, his nipples growing day by day blacker and blacker, he came to a new realization and comprehension of how, after so, so many trials and so, so many sufferings, God’s love had finally smiled on him and us all!


All’s swell that ends swell!

Luv ya all,

Sarah!
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