Chapter Text
As 12-year-old Richard LeBlanc walked into the kitchen and yawned, wiping sleep from his large, expressive blue eyes, his ‘housekeeper’ Aliyah was already in position at the counter, working busily whisking a bowl and cutting fresh banana slices. Though he was but a child and she an adult woman, the relationship between them had been made clear over the prior days and weeks.
She was bound to do whatever the boy said. And her penalty for disobedience was to be fired, her son bullied, and them both eventually deported back to her war-torn Middle Eastern homeland. Thus, she had no choice in the matter - it was not just herself she had to think about, but her son Ali. And in addition to his mother foregoing her sacking, Richard had promised to stop calling Ali a camel-jockey, towel-head and other degrading names, so long as she ‘took care of him’ in the manner he wished.
Thus, the pancakes, and the sight of her big, round rump bent over the counter as she mixed. Aliyah was only thankful that she had been allowed to wear her hijab today - a head covering and ankle-length robe of featureless black. It kept her beautiful black hair hidden, as the Quran demanded, and the curves of her voluptuous body, angles and slopes that might have otherwise been completely lewd in normal clothing, were reduced to hints and suggestions.
Richard stretched and cracked his knuckles, then pushed out one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Aliyah saw with dismay that the boy’s huge, erect penis was already poking stiffly from his pajama bottoms and protruding all the way up to his navel, leaking a translucent line of pre-cum from the tip… as if her young, brown haired ‘master’ was so virile that his body had barely been able to contain it during the night. She felt a blush come to her cheeks. It was unfair - for such a devil to have a penis that was so much bigger than Muslim men. She chose to believe it was a test from Allah.
Richard finished stretching and looked at her, smiling easily. “Oh, you’re here!” In his precocious, childish whimsy, he’d forgotten all about what he ordered her to do.
“You requested I make you pancakes,” Aliyah said, flatly. She kept her eyes low. Even covered by the trappings of her religion, she was an astounding beauty. Her skin was a flawless caramel color and accented with a pair of perfect beauty marks next to her eye and lower lip. Her mouth was shapely, her nose thin, her eyes a striking gray that glimmered like silver. And much as she tried to hide her figure beneath the black gown, the swell of her breasts, the wideness of her hips and the roundness of her bottom was impossible to hide.
“Oh yeah!” Richard said, and laughed. “And when you’re done, you can suck my cock, because my dick has been real hard in the morning lately, and from now on, you’re going to suck it first thing!” The innocent smile on his face, the locks of brown hair falling over his brow, the rose in his cheeks, all stood in stark contrast to the lewdness of his request. Aliyah’s shoulders slumped. She had hoped the boy would relent - ask her instead to dance, ask her even to do the foul thing he called ‘twerking’ and had forced her to imitate while watching immortal videos - but like most white children, he was eager to explore the limits of his power.
“Please,” she begged the boy, blushing and looking away. “Do not make me do such a thing.”
“But my mom said you have to do what I say!” Richard replied. “Are you saying you won’t?”
“No, but-”
Of course, she dared not fully voice her objections, and only stood at the counter, hoping Richard would relent. Despite being all of four feet tall and weighing ninety pounds, the boy was, for better or worse, her master.
“Fine,” Richard said, after thinking for a moment, and Aliyah couldn’t help but allow a flicker of home to touch her mood. “You don’t have to do anything.”
“I don’t?” Aliyah asked.
Richard shook his head from side to side, locks of his brown hair brushing against his ears and neck. “Nope. You can kneel here, next to my chair.” He turned the chair so it was facing away from the table, and patted the edge. “Facing away. Lean back, and look up at the ceiling.”
Aliyah paused in her mixing. Looking apprehensive, knowing there was another shoe yet to drop, she shifted into position. The chair’s padded edge cushioned her neck, and her head was angled to stare up at the ceiling. As she took up the position, Richard widened his thighs on the chair to make room for her head, then looked down directly into her face - his wide blue eyes down into her gorgeous, almond-shaped hazel ones.
“Now remember… don’t do anything!” Richard repeated, as they stared at each other. “Especially don’t move.”
Aliyah could see his cock looming above, and feel the warmth of his fat balls against the topf of her head. “Alright, Richard. If this is what you wish, then-”
Richard pursed his lips and then let a wet, foamy mouthful of spit drip directly onto her nose and forehead. Aliyah stopped talking, gasped, and grimaced. She was about to move out of pure indignity and habit, but Richard told her again: “Don’t move, I said. Don’t move or you know what happens!”
She knew. Deportation. Exile from the relatively stable and safe borders of America. Danger for her and her son. Thus, she opened her eyes and kept her face totally still as Richard spit in her face again and again and again. Her lips, eyes, nose, cheeks, and forehead quickly became covered in hot, foamy American boyspit.
“Thank me!” Richard ordered, spitting on her face for the eighth or ninth time. He had the same excited, naughty face a boy might have while pulling a dangerous but rewarding prank.
“Th-thank you for not telling your mother to fire me!” Aliyah blurted. And immediately, her face was met with a rebuking cockslap, as Richard let his big, young, smooth meat flop bonk down on her nose, drawing a squeak.
“No, you stupid camel-fucker!” he said, annoyed. “Thank me for spitting on your face!”
Aliyah shut her eyes and let out a sobbing gasp of defeat. Thick strands of saliva connected her lashes and her cheeks. “T-thank you… for spitting on my face,” she managed, her voice hitching. “It is… wonderful.”
“Your skin was the color of shit and now it’s all nice and white,” Richard said. “Isn’t that good?”
“Y-yes!” Aliyah blurted, only wanting to satisfy him so the humiliation might reach an end. “T-thank you for… for bleaching my shit-skin with hot American boy spit!”
“You like it when white boys spit on you, huh?” Richard asked.
Aliyah moaned and whined out her answer, as if it were being drawn from her via a painful wound. In a way, it was - the wound was to her pride and self-esteem. “Yes,” she said. “Your age… and younger. All your white schoolfriends… invite them here to spit in my face as well, if it would please you!“
“Wow, Miss Aliyah,” Richard marveled. “You really love drinking the spit of American boys, huh? My dad’s friend at the VA hospital told me all you Muslim women are whores, but I never believed it until now!”
It was an unfair question, monstrously unfair… and yet she was compelled to obey, even as she grimaced at how obscene it was. “Yes,” she said. “Any Muslim woman would be honored to have a twelve-year-old American boy spit in her mouth!”
“Then open up!” Richard ordered, and Aliyah did so. He hocked back and spit in her mouth again and again, filling it to the brim until it threatened to wash over her teeth and those plump, perfect lips, the overflow dripping down her chin and down the front of her black, body-obscuring gown, forming a river between the hidden shapes of her huge breasts. When he further ordered her to swallow, she did so immediately, feeling his foamy, thick warmth slide down her throat, and then blowing out an exhausted breath as she opened wide to show her mouth was empty.
And, since she knew the order was coming, she added “t-thank you for feeding me,”before she was bidden. Knowing she sounded like a whore. Knowing his expectorate was still smeared all over her face and that she must look a mess.
“I’m going to call you Camel Cunt for as long as I want,” Richard decreed, stripping off his pajama bottoms, letting his cock hang down imperiously. It was hairless and smooth and white and so, so big. It was so degrading, so confidence crushing, to know that a white boy was blessed with such a sex hammer - and this degradation was heard in Aliyah’s whimpering acquiescence.
“Now, beg, camel cunt!” Richard instructed, sounding like a miniature drill sergeant. “Beg for my balls on your face!”
Aliyah was momentarily stunned, so Richard mashed his small palm into her face and rubbed around the mask of spit, making her moan. “Hurry up!” he prompted, and Aliyah squinted her eyes shut and obeyed.
“P-please… put your balls on my face,” she moaned, through his toes. But young Richard, instead of being satisfied, rolled his eyes.
“That sucked,” he said. “I’ve been teaching you all sorts of words the last few days, and you’re always so boring!” He looked perturbed. “I should just have my mom ship you back to Iraq.”
He was wrong about the country but right about the effect the threat would have. Aliyah searched her memories of the prior days, in which she’d been manipulated into being the boy’s whore, essentially assigned as such by Richard’s xenophobic mother.
“Teabag my shit-skin face with your big, fat American balls!” Aliyah burst out, looking up at the boy with tears of humiliation leaking out of her eyes, which in tandem with all the spit, was making her mascara run gloriously. “Please… use my terrorist mouth to wipe the sweat from those hanging, churning white treasures… violate me with them!”
“Ah, that’s better!” Richard breathed, obviously aroused even in his high-voiced precociousness. as he turned around on the chair and lewdly squatted, wide-kneed, over her face, exposing his balls, taint and anus. With his heels near the edge, facing away from Aliyah, he let his big, hanging nuts drop directly on her face - which was, because of her hijab, the only part of her body that was exposed. They were heavy and virile and hairless and unspeakably warm, and Aliyah moaned out as his scrotal skin spilled over her lips and nose.
“It feels real good to have a camel cunt clean my nuts, Miss Aliyah!” Richard groaned, and started to rub his undercarriage all over her face. “Get a nice faceful of my balls! Muslim women are all whores who love this! Guys from my dad’s unit did this when they were deployed, and even worse stuff too!”
It did not matter that the stories told to him were nothing but exaggerations, outright lies and the fantasies of PTSD-suffering men - to young Richard they were real, and thus to Aliyah, real as well. She shuddered with humiliation as he wiped his big, young ballsack over every inch of her exposed skin, gathering and redistributing spit in a uniform sheen. When he lifted up to send them plapping softly back against her forehead, nose, and mouth, strands of spit connected his pink, blushing ball-bag and her degraded, dead-eyed face. Whatever shred of dignity she might have been hiding away had been found and eliminated.
“A lot bigger than Muslim dicks, huh?” the boy taunted, grinding his sack on her nose and mouth. Aliyah moaned in dismay. She felt like sobbing with dismay and rage, shaking her head in negation… but the boy’s statement was true . Prior to coming to America, she’d been naked and unchaperoned with only one man - and Richard’s big, white, Caucasian boy balls were so much bigger!
“ Ynnsh…” she whimpered from under his sack. Richard laughed with pleasure as he knelt on the coverlet’s edge, thighs spread, straddling her face and wiping his nuts all over her features, smearing them with the dark eye makeup she’d been wearing and the mix of their spit.
“This is just like in video games!” Richard said, triumphantly, speaking of the military-style shooters that his mother let him play into the late hours of the evening. “I never thought I’d actually get to do it in real life!” He reached behind his round, smooth bottom and smacked Aliyah on the breast. “Suck on them! Make a lot of noise!”
“Nnnngh…” She did, pursing her lips, forming suction on one of his testicles. And as Richard boosted his hips up, his scrotum stretched until the tension was too great and his big, fat young testicle disconnected from her plump lips with a spit-flecked pop! He repeated the downward and upward motion, and the sound was even louder.
Succcc pop! Succccc pop! Succcc pop! Aliyah’s self-esteem as a Muslim woman shriveled within her voluptuous body as she worshiped a white brat’s twelve-year-old ballsack with lewd slurps, wet sucks and oral pops that left her face flecked with her own saliva. She punctuated each one with a grunt of dismay, and In between, Richard made sure that his sack was stuffing her mouth and nose, reddening her face with oxygen deprivation and making her sniff his clean, virile boysweat.
“You’re real good at this!” Richard complimented, wiggling his bottom on her face. Aliyah made a non-committal groan, hoping that her humiliation was at an end. As is the case with most mischievous, bullying boys, though, Richard couldn’t resist pushing his advantage even further. It was the same self-assured sense of righteousness that he had shown in bullying her son Ali, the same white, American manifest destiny that allowed him and his blue-eyed kind to see her homeland as nothing more than a series of oil fields for the taking.
He lifted himself slightly so she could see. “Now, lick my butt!” he ordered, presenting his winking, pink, hairless asshole to her mouth.
“W-what?!” she gasped, his balls still laying fat on her chin.
“Come on!” Richard prompted, crossly. “I’ve seen you praying - kneeling down and bent over with your butt looking all huge! So worship my butthole just like that!”
The mention of prayer filled Aliyah with a zealous resistance. She had resolved to do anything the boy wanted, for Ali’s sake. But this… this was too much! Prayer was her respite. To involve her belief in this disgrace would make her accountable for her sin not just in this life, but in the next!
“No!” she burst out. “I won’t! That is too far!” she croaked, clearing spit from her mouth. “Ask me anything… make do anything you wish… but… not that-”
“Do it,” Richard ordered.
Aliyah swallowed thickly, looking up at the boy’s moist, pink asshole. A voice inside her, one that had grown in strength since the prior week when Richard first revealed his huge young penis and the desire to use it on her, whispered that she should do as the boy wished, that she had already stained herself with too many indignities to count. Yet there was a large piece of the old Aliyah, pride and pious, that held out.
She didn’t move. And after a second, Richard straightened up a little and sighed. “That’s too bad,” the boy lamented, with an unconcealed lack of sincerity in his ‘regret’. “I guess I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson.”
With confidence beyond his years, he raised his arm and brutalized her face with a slap - a young boy lighting up an adult woman in the most degrading way. The impact was loud and sent spittle flying halfway across the kitchen.
“Camel cunt,” he said. WHAP! A second blow to her opposite cheek. “Stupid sand nigger.” WHAP! A third blow. WHAP! A fourth.
“Please,” Aliyah sobbed, her face a ruin of running mascara, reddening from the impact. “Please, anything else - ask me anything else-”
WHAP! “Dune coon!” WHAP! “Hajji whore!”
The boy went through his entire litany of slurs and found new and unnatural combinations as he held her in place, beating her face alternatively with slaps and with his hard dick. Eventually he started beating her tits as well, making them bounce and jiggle within her modest garments… accusing her of being a big-titted bitch along with everything else. As he did this, his fingers scrabbled at her abaya, tearing it, exposing her large, brown breasts to the open air. “Just like I thought!” he crowed. “Your tits are huge, Miss Aliyah! You try to keep them covered but it makes no difference!”
Her cries only rose in volume as her disgrace deepened and the boy had his way with her flawlessly complexioned, brown, dark-nippled mammaries. His small hands all but disappeared into the oceans of flesh as he twisted and explored, kneading the bounteous tit-meat, laughing cruelly about how her massive Muslim milk trucks would be good for feeding hungry camels. Her cries of denial, and her pathetic begging to cover herself back up, was muffled by the fat balls laying on her face.
Finally, he planted his foot behind her head and pushed her off the chair’s edge, sending her to her hands and knees before sliding down to stalk toward her. Her position - back arched, butt straining at the black fabric of her gown - made his next target easy. “You’ve got a big, fat, slutty, donkey ass too, Miss Aliyah!” he scolded, then rained down a blow on her large, round MILF ass cheek, making it jiggle. “No wonder you want to cover up these camel humps!” He began to spank her as powerfully as his young body would allow.
Aliyah’s hazel eyes were glassy. A twelve-year-old boy was beating her like a chattel prostitute. It was the most degrading thing in the world… and each blow brought new pain and humiliation that seemed like it would never end. With each blow, she became more and more willing to do anything to make it stop.
“If you won’t do it, I’m gonna call my mom,” Richard warned, squatting down over her face. “To get you and Ali sent back to where you came from. You’ll probably get blown up by bombs. But at least getting blown up by a bomb doesn’t hurt. It happens real fast. That’s what my dad’s friend at the VA hospital says. Like one minute you’re there and then a drone flies over and-”
Utterly beaten and with tears in her eyes, Aliyah rose up from the floor to grip him, clutching his buttocks, spreading them, exposing that pink, hairless asshole… and sealing her mouth over it. Mashing her lips against it, kissing it, sucking it, licking around it, not as a woman, but as a slave. There was no use fighting it - the boy had made her his Muslim MILF bitch .
Richard bit his lip and moaned out as she sucked his anus, showing her submission, leaving no doubt that she had accepted his terms. “Nnngh!” he gasped. “That’s… more like it, Miss Aliyah!” His eye twitched as her long, agile tongue crawled up his shitpipe and started licking and servicing the walls of his bowels. Her hands clutched at his smooth, round pre-teen ass and spread it as wide as possible as she degraded herself. “I wish Ali could see you do this… you… stupid camel cunt!” He bit his lip as Aliyah gave his asshole a long, felching, worshipful suck. “You love it, don’t you?”
Aliyah pulled her mouth off with a gasp, taking hitching breaths from within her self-immolating whirlwind. “Yes,” she breathed. “I need young white ass in my face. Fat, virile white balls. The place where a white male defecates from, the lowest part of his body, is still higher than the mouth of any Muslim woman.” The words came with ease that was obscene, as she told Richard what he wanted to hear, all the while with bubbles of spit on her nostrils and mouth, black streaks under her eyes, and strands of saliva connecting her mouth and Richard’s glistening anus.
“Thank you,” she said, after another thick breath. Her eyes were glassy with her own disgrace. “Thank you for letting me service your beautiful white body with my inferior mud-tongue. I am just a sand nigger, a towel-head, a shit-skin, a camel fucker. And after seeing the huge penis of a twelve-year-old Caucasian boy… the thought of a Muslim man makes me sick to my stomach.”
Richard nodded with approval. “That’s really good!” he crowed. “Now, open your mouth real wide!”
With no shred of self-esteem left in her defeated face, she did.
Richard sank his hips down. His cocktip first pressed against her slick lips, parted them, then stretched them open with pure girth. Her neck bulged as his turgid fuckmeat burrowed straight down her windpipe. Richard planted his knees on the tile as he shoved in as much as he could, thighs splayed, butt clenched - his slender, boyish body all but mounting the face of his adult Middle-Eastern housekeeper. Spit burbled out of Aliyah’s mouth and Richard groaned with satisfaction.
“Ah! Your throat is so tight!” the boy hissed. “This is way better… than using my hand!” Once he’d reached as far as he could go, his fat balls laying on her chin, the scrotal bulge spilling over to hang against her neck, he raised his hips up and started to hump, drilling his cock up and down in her throat.
“Glrrrrrch!” gagged Aliyah, with every stroke. “Gluuuurk! Gllllch! Glllnnnk!” Though her spirit had submitted, her body was still not used to the invasion of such a brutal, degrading tool. With each thrust, a burst of saliva and pre-cum would spray from the seal of her mouth and splatter down the front of her black gown, sliding between the twin mounds of her huge, protruding breasts. Shamefully, her tits were massive enough enough that her areolas were bulging out against the fabric, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.
“Finger yourself!” Richard ordered, his own high voice nearly lost to gasps. “Rub that camel cunt, Miss Aliyah!”
Masturbation was haram , but Aliyah was so far gone beyond the limit of anything permitted by her religion that she was almost in a trance of obedience. Her hand moved down and began to press against the delta where the black fabric formed a triangle - and though she had almost no practice in pleasuring herself, she did so eagerly and without hesitation, taking to the act like a duck to water. She groaned as her fingers pressured her clit, rubbing it, applying pressure. Her thighs widened and her body surged upward into Richard’s downward thrusting cock.
PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! His fat, hairless balls banged on her chin over and over again, sending out sprays of saliva and throat slime that coated her, with each thrust drawing out an obscene and indecent heaving noise as Aliyah gagged and gurgled and blew creamy throat-gunk sperm out of her nose and drooled it from her mouth.
“Alllghgghhhh…” she gurgled, drooling out a prayer to white cock. “Annnnghhh!” And perhaps it was the vibration from her throat that drove Richard to the edge and beyond, for after nearly two minutes of brutal throat rape, the boy hilted his prick, cried out drink all my cum, camel cunt , and cried out in pleasure as he emptied his overstuffed young balls straight into Aliyah’s stomach.
Totally cowed, interested only in what would please him and end her torments, she surged upward from the floor to meet him. With one hand she groped pathetically at his smooth young bottom, groping his butt, wanting more of that dick down her throat. Her other was digging and stirring at her long-dormant cunt mound, drawing more and more pleasure out of her clit. In the dimmest part of her mind she realized this made it bearable, if she could find pleasure, she could endure it. And thus, Aliyah creamed herself like a pig while the twelve-year-old boy in her throat sprayed rope after rope of chowdery pre-teen sperm into her belly. She swallowed and slurped and gagged until her gut was heavy with it and the tingling and buzzing and explosions between her thighs had subsided.
Only then did the boy slide forward and withdraw his spent cock from her sperm-blasted face.
Aliyah was a ruin. Her makeup was totally smeared, her face slick with cum, the entire front of her traditional clothing a mess of dripping sperm and saliva. Even more humiliatingly, she was soaked between the legs, having pleasured herself at the boy’s command… and reached a climax beyond anything she’d felt in her life.
With unfocused, glassy eyes, she slumped on the floor like a broken doll, only becoming aware gradually and by degrees that the boy was standing in front of her, bottomless, with his long penis hanging down past his knee. She turned her eyes up to look at him… and couldn’t help but linger on that meat . By Allah, what a donkey cock this American boy had.
“I have to go to the bathroom, Miss Aliyah,” the boy explained, smiling and brandishing his long, soft penis. “So I thought-”
Aliyah’s cum-weathered face still had the capacity for alarm. Even after all of this indignity, she would be required to perform the duties of a housekeeper. To clean, to scrub, to finish making the boy’s forgotten breakfast. And on top of everything else, to have to clean up the copious piss of a twelve-year-old who was hung like a horse… it was her instinct, in spite of the situation, to avoid that if she could. “Wait!” She croaked, her throat raw from the brutal facefuck she’d endured. It was clear what the boy wanted - and he expected her to do anything he wished. He was white, and she, Middle Eastern. “Wait… let us go to the washroom. And then… then you can do as you like.”
Richard pretended to think for a moment as she crawled in his direction… but it was only a cruel subterfuge of the sort that young boys seem to specialize in. “Oops!” he cried, disingenuously. “I can’t hold it in, Miss Aliyah!” He squinted his eyes shut, took aim at her black-clad body, and bit his lower lip.
Aliyah could barely get her hands up in time to prevent his thick, golden stream from blasting directly into her face. As it was, she was quickly getting soaked by the virile piss-spray, in spite of any attempt to shield herself. It was so warm, so powerful that it ricocheted and splattered, and there was
so much
of it. She thought, not for the first time, about how white boys were cruel, dominating, conquering beasts. Desperate to stop the stream from drenching her, she did something that seemed plausible only because the boy had worn down her self-worth over the course of the days’ abuse. She opened her shapely mouth and sealed it over the tip of his spurting prick, letting that hosing, steaming stream blast straight down her throat!
Aliyah’s eyes went wide as she swallowed thickly - once, twice, three times, four. It was an even greater amount than she could have expected - and Richard’s found her desperate act very amusing. “I knew you’d do that,” he said. “You probably drank camel piss just to survive in Iran, huh?” He tilted his head back and shut his eyes, really savoring the moment of degrading an adult, Muslim woman with what seemed to be a gallon of his hot, acrid waste. The only question was whether his bladder would run dry before Aliyah could swallow no more… and as it turned out, that question was answered only a few seconds later, when she gagged and spat out a huge spray of piss after taking her eighth or ninth gulp.
This only made Richard laugh more. “Good try, camel cunt,” he offered, reaching out to take a hold of her headscarf as she looked up at him in a daze. Her eyes were downtrodden and beaten, filled with the submissive warrant that would seal a safe future for her and her boy… at the expense of her dignity. “You like drinking my piss, huh?”
“Y-yes,“ Aliyah said, her voice monotone and sapped of all resistance. “All sand niggers drink camel piss. But… white piss is so much better.”
And as Richard’s stream abated, he used his hanging cock like a showerhead, spraying it all over her, then tucked his tip into her hijab and let his golden, violating urine erupt into her hair… the gorgeous black locks that her clothing was meant to hide. There was now no part of her that wasn’t marked as the boy’s sovereign, white-owned territory. His Caucasian flag was planted deep, colonizing the most sacred parts of her anatomy… and her soul. He did not stop until her hair, covered beneath her headscarf, was absolutely soaked with piss.
“Thank you,” she moaned, looking up helplessly at the boy. “For pissing all over this worthless, subhuman piece of camel shit.” Richard smiled, and put a domineering hand on the top of her head, and promised he would do it every day from then on.