Black New World Order-Lee

"Back to my story, because there's no way to make is short. If you want to know how I became the man I am today, how I defeated whiteness, it's a complicated and nuanced three part story and not at all pretty."

"Every day was frantic in the beginning. Scottie had notebooks, dozens of notebooks with hand scribbled notes, and document after document on her laptop, with ideas she had planned before The Shift. Every day, she would put out an idea, ask for suggestions on how to improve it, and everyone would get to work on making it happen. Every day, chefs, artists, seamstresses, designers, architects, counselors, it was a steady stream of people from all over the world, she wanted the most innovative minds and thinkers at the helm. Every day, people who were a part of the inner circle were flying out, resourcing different elements needed to make this new concept, this community of equality, a reality. Everyone was buzzing with ideas and creativity . . . everyone . . . except me. I felt like a dufus. I couldn't contribute anything, I couldn't add anything constructive. All I could do was follow orders and I didn't even do that well."

"I was getting frustrated, I felt like I didn't even need to be there. My whiteness was out of control; I resented feeling like I wasn't as valuable as the other members of the family, although, they weren't family to me at that point. Wait. I was the one who wasn't a member of the family yet. They were all coming together, healing in ways I didn't understand, they were a family and I was the token, I was like the golden retriever they fed and pet on the head and shoo'd out of the way when I got into somewhere I didn't belong. At least, that's what it felt like to me."

"The absolute worst part for me were the New Moon and Full Moon celebrations. Approximately every two weeks, there was a grand party. It would last all day and into the night. It would start with brunch. Everyone got to take a little siesta or whatever, Then, before you knew it, supper was being served. After that, it was dancing and singing and drumming and sex until the wee morning hours. No work happened on those days."

"I HATED it. I hated sitting at the table and feeling out of place. I felt so autistic. Did you ever watch Bones? I was Temperance, I couldn't pick up on social cues, I didn't understand how they communicated, there were no set rules for me to follow so I would just sit there, in my head, and pretend to enjoy myself."

"Confession time. I hated Scottie's daughters. They aren't her biological daughters, she just loves them. I hated them. They were ghetto and I hated everything about them. I hated the way they talked. I hated the way they dressed. I really hated the way they looked. I thought they were hideous. But more than anything, I hated that their opinions had more weight than mine because their insights and contributions had substance and I had nothing, less than nothing to offer. I hated that they seemed to get along so well with everyone, from dignitaries and state leaders to the maids who worked at the resort. I hated them because I believed with all my heart that I was superior to them. I had been programmed to hate poor Black women, to look down on them. I had never met any before, not outside of a brief work context but I couldn't fucking stand looking at them, being in the same room as them, I couldn't stand breathing the same air as them."

"That's fucked up," Marvin interjected. "I've had to deal with my programmed hatred of the "ghetto" not so much Black women but the ghetto mindset because I always had to speak properly and dress differently to prove to white people that I wasn't ghetto, that I was better than them. There was always a "they need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps" mentality that I held on to but I didn't have that any more after The Shift."

"And that's because, if you don't mind me saying," Lee said, "you had neuro-melanin in the Old World, you already had Divine Consciousness in you so when we shifted and you got your upgrades, you could see the humanity in them and the illusion was lifted. I was starting out from a melanin deficiency and my programming told me that all Black women but specifically poor Black women deserved to be raped, beaten, tortured, and killed, that they were disgusting and evil, and they had no value. They were all stupid welfare Queens as far as I was concerned."

"As the weeks go by, I'm getting more and more frustrated because I literally have nothing to offer. If I had been even remotely capable of speaking up for myself at that time, I would have said, "Yo, I'm out. Well, I wouldn't have said it like that when I was steeped in whiteness. I probably would have said, 'I'm really sorry but I don't think this is a good fit, no offense, but I don't feel like I'm needed here so I'm going to leave and I wish you the best with your little project here' making sure to belittle her in a very condescending tone.'"

"Scottie could sense my frustration and addressed it before I had a chance to work up the nerve to confront her. She told me her plan was to completely transform me into an authentic, soulful white man, to create me in her image. She apologized to me for ignoring my needs and that made me feel even more like shit. Here she was, the person who masterfully crushed the AI that had been controlling humanity since the beginning of time, and she was creating a New World of Love, and implementing ideas and concepts that she had planned for 20 plus years, and here she was apologizing to me because I didn't feel like I was contributing enough."

"All the Wequilibrium planning and strategizing went on hold because she wanted to make sure she was addressing my whiteness and she had designed a protocol and she needed help to perfect it. She hadn't worked out all the specifics but she had the outlines for four different 3-week protocols: cleansing and detoxing, aphrodisiac and arousal, psilocybin, and ayahuasca."

"She said that, first, we were all going to go through a 3-week cleansing detox. We had a week to get everything we would need: commercial and industrial juicers, we flew in nutritionists and herbologists, chefs who specialized in smoothie bowls and juice recipes. We were all doing food prep all day long, washing, cutting, freezing fruits and vegetables from local markets, practically buying them out. And me? I was opening packages and directing the contents to the right people."

"We all did the cleanse and it was a piece of cake. I couldn't believe all the shit that came out of me. I was feeling better than I had ever felt in my life. You know, you just went through it. You never get a chance to get hungry, everything tastes great, and aches and pains start to disappear. My mind was clearer. I was still racist as fuck, but at least I could focus better. Not funny, but true."

"Just as the third week of fasting and cleansing was coming to an end, Scottie said that the next leg was the erotic protocol. I, specifically, was going to undergo an erotic transformation and anyone who wanted to participate was welcome to. Luckily for me Janquil and Ray Ray declined. I was dreading the thought of them seeing me perform sexually. I didn't want them to see me being submissive to Black men and I knew I wouldn't feel comfortable really letting go in front of them."

"For a week, again, we all prepped. Once again, chefs were flown in to create meals with foods that were known to be aphrodisiacs, infused with cannabis and other herbal aphrodisiacs that would keep us in a state of constant sexual arousal. We made multiple forms of every aphrodisiac known to man. Sex therapists, erotic artists, tantric masters, massage therapists, anyone who was skilled in the sensual arts was scheduled to fly in over the three week period and they were all there to teach me to be sensual and erotic. Well, not just me, but my ego made it all about me."

"For three weeks, we were to be subjected to a strict schedule of erotic training: Breakfast was at 7 sharp. From 8 am to noon, it was classroom type studies. We were getting lectures, taking notes, films were shown, teachers taught, and speakers would lecture to us about stuff about sex that I had never in my life heard of before. For real, everything we learned about sex in the Old World was dead ass wrong."

"Lunch was for 2 hours and after that, was my special training. That . . . that was literally a cluster fuck, and now that I think about it, it was literally and figuratively, a complete cluster fuck. There would be a dinner break from 6 to 8 and after that we would all convene from 8 pm to midnight, where everyone else, all the In Loving Color models, would undergo some sort of semen retention practice sessions where the men would learn exactly what their partners liked and how to please them without any penetration whatsoever. I would just sit and watch like a fucking tool."

"With aphrodisiacs, they needed time to get in our system. That meant, for the first few days, I didn't do anything but get massages during what was supposed to be my noon session, and I was supposed to pay attention and learn the different techniques and learn how to give a sensual massage. For the first few days as well, the late-night sessions turned out to be masturbation sessions where all the men would masturbate to the point just before orgasm and learn how to have cosmic orgasms. Shalom Melchizedek, isn't that the coolest name, he would instruct men how to have an orgasm without ejaculating. Talk about intimidating. All these beautiful men were there, stroking their dicks learning how not to cum and my little dick could barely get hard, let alone cum."

"Day four, with the aphrodisiacs in our blood streams, Scottie said that all the men who were going to be partaking in In Loving Color were going to practice semen retention by fucking me without ejaculating. I was in heaven, this was what I signed up for, to be fucked and used by Black men. That's what the New World Order was supposed to be, white men being sexually used by Black men without shame or guilt. Fucking-a right, buddy! Bring it on, dude!"

Marvin said, "Uhmm, you really suck at sounding white. I can already tell that it didn't go down like that. Everybody? Everybody was bi I'm assuming?"

"No, the hell it didn't go down like that! It was nothing like what I had envisioned," Lee exclaimed. "I don't think I would use the term bisexual, I would say sexually fluid. No one holds on to heterosexual labels any longer but there are some men who are more attracted to women than men but they don't do the 'Yucky, gross, that's homo!' thing. It's not like it feels bad to fuck me, they just might not be attracted to me. Like you. Like you were before. You were attracted to women but you would have sex with men. It didn't feel bad to have sex with men, but you would have preferred to have sex with women."

"Scottie had set up a pavilion, open-air, we had been using it for yoga up until that point, but now there was a king-sized bed in the center and 6 different sofas surrounded it in a circle. I walked in and saw about 12 different Black men, I'm guessing about 4 or 5 Black women who just wanted to watch, and Scottie. And wherever Scottie goes, so goes Jesse. Scottie tells me to get on the bed. I'm already high and horny from breakfast and lunch and I'm loving the idea of being watched."

"I would have loved to have just sat on one of those sofas and watched. I bet that was hot." His leg was falling asleep so they shifted to a spooning position where Marvin's very hard dick was rubbing on Lee's sexy, round ass and he pulled Lee close and held him tight.

"I get undressed and climb on the bed and Scottie introduces me to someone named Bhaiya. He was young, well to my old ass he was young, in his late 20s maybe, early 30s and that made my mouth water. So, here's the plan. I'm supposed to listen to him describe an experience or event that happened in his life and I'm supposed to answer some questions about the experience that show that I'm able to identify racism, the feelings it causes, and show that I can relate to and have empathy for the Black experience."

"So, already, I'm not so happy about these rules. I automatically assumed that nothing I said was going to be good enough for them and they were all going to make me out to be wrong, to be the bad guy regardless of whatever I said. In my mind, I was already negating their experiences of racism before I had even heard the first story. In my mind I was already saying that Black people were overly sensitive and that it was their attitude, that it was their need to twist benign situations into something racist that was going to make them falsely accuse me of racism."

"Next, she informs Reggie, he's Michael in the book, in . . . in . . ."

"Reality Bites," Marvin jumped in to help out with the title of the story about a Black man and Black woman who both secretly, separately go on a Reality TV show to expose how ridiculous they are and they both end up falling in love with one another.

"Yes, that's it! She tells him to step up and he takes out his dick and it's, it's a bit like yours to be honest, size, length, slight curve. I'm salivating at the thought of sucking it. She tells him that I have to suck his dick, erotically and sensually, and that if I don't do it well, or if I do something that he doesn't like, that he can slap me. Slap my face, as hard as he wants."

"OK, so now, I have to listen to someone tell me their experience, and I have to answer questions about racism and I have to suck someone else's dick and if he doesn't like it, he can slap me. I'm getting more and more annoyed with all these rules. My whiteness, my inability to grasp that I wasn't in charge, that I couldn't call the shots, my arrogance was in full swing at that point. Mind you, I wasn't an Alpha in the Old World, I wasn't calling any shots, it wasn't like I was used to bossing people around or imposing my will on anyone else. I was average and mediocre and submissive; I had zero reason to feel as if I had a right to dictate what the rules should be. My whiteness was telling me that I had the right to call the shots though, or at the very least, show my disapproval for having all these rules I didn't think were fair to me."

"I'm confident as fuck in my abilities to suck a dick, however, and I grab his dick and I immediately start sucking it. Next thing you know, WHAP! He smacks me hard across the face, in less than a minute. I was stunned. I thought I was doing an excellent job. He told me that there was nothing special or even good about my dick sucking and that I hadn't made him feel sensual or erotic in any way."

"The next thing I know, he is using my mouth to get hard. He literally takes my ears and used them like handlebars, and he fucks my face until his dick is dripping with spit and hard. He gets behind me, lubes me up, and he starts rubbing the head of his dick on my asshole. It's been months since I've been fucked and I'm desperate to be used. He pushes his dick in me and he starts fucking me slowly. It can't even really be described as fucking. He's thrusting inside me, slowly all the way in, and slowly all the way out."

"Bhaiya steps us, and he starts telling me about his experience being harassed by white cops who beat the shit out of him when he was 17 because they said they thought he was too uppity, he didn't cower and fear them so they decided to give him something to make him afraid. He goes on to say how his mother went to the police station to file a complaint against the officers and they did nothing. They said it was his word against theirs, and he had no proof he wasn't in some gang fight with his hoodlum buddies. All the while, Reggie is warming up his dick in my ass. Innnnn, and ooooout. Innnnn, and ooooout. Deep dicking me, Innnnn, and ooooout."

While Lee was telling his story, Marvin was thrusting his very hard dick against Lee's firm round ass cheeks in time with his descriptions, recreating the same neuro-linguistic techniques that Scottie had used to allow Lee to experience pleasure and pain simultaneously, only this pain was the pain of frustration, hunger, desperation and longing. The sensation was not lost on Lee as he was thrusting back, remembering all the cravings he felt there on that bed, needing to feel more pleasure, to feel more alive. "Please tell me that there are videos of each of your sessions."

"Videos and pictures. I was going out of my mind. Being watched, being fucked, albeit not a hard as I wanted, but it felt so fucking good I didn't really care that he wasn't blowing my back out. I thought I was about to get the shit beaten out of me because of what those cops had done and I wanted it. I wanted these Black men to beat the shit out of me because I was white. I felt like I had to be punished for being white and that sensation, that feeling that resided deep, deep inside me did not die with The Shift."

Scottie walks up to me, and she's standing right next to me while I'm getting fucked, I start sweating like a pig I'm so nervous, and she says in her voice that's like the embodiment of sensuality itself, "How do you think Bhaiya's mother felt, knowing she couldn't protect her child?"

"Holy Fuck! Way to shock me back to reality. I say the first words that pop in my head, with no thought whatsoever, 'She probably felt really bad. I can only imagine. It's so sad that some cops are like that.' I stopped just short of saying Black Lives Matter because I thought that would seem like pandering but know that it was on the tip of my tongue."

"Scottie looks at Reggie, gives him a nod or some sort of eye expression or signal, something that tells him to stop and he stops fucking me and goes back to one of the sofas that had been set up all around the bed. A woman is there with a sea sponge and a basin of water and she starts to bathe him, to wash his dick of presumably whatever shit I gotten on his dick. It couldn't have been much if there was but that was the ritual, they were bathed after fucking me. I couldn't take my eyes off of them. I was hypnotized."

"She was bathing him and it was . . . she was pouring love into him, into his dick with her touch. The way her nails were painted, the way the gold of her rings reflected the rays of the sun peeking through the lush, tropical foliage, the gentle jingle of the bracelets she wore up and down her arms, the music they created as he would squeeze the water from the sponge, it was captivating. Just seeing how her touch seemed to arouse him made me jealous. I could feel it all. I could tell he felt so much better in her hands than he had felt in my ass. She wasn't just stroking his dick, she was swirling her hands around, creating waves of energy, casting a spell and his dick was the magic wand the Tower of Love. I wanted to feel that feeling. I felt like I missed that sensation, that AfroerotiK Love, even though I had never experienced anything like that in my lifetime.

"Then, BAM! Scottie snaps me out of my trance and says to me, 'Until you can tell me what we felt when we experienced racism, until you can empathize with and understand the experience of Blackness, that's all the dick you're going to get. If you want to get fucked, if you want to get that pussy get beat up, you have to show me that you see us as human beings.'"

"At this point, my mind is racing. I don't know what she expects of me so I'm in panic mode. I've stopped listening to what she's saying and I've started planning my excuses and thinking of things to say, answers I can give that will sound better. Bhaiya moves into place and I'm supposed to sensually and erotically suck his dick right after he shared his story with me and I have fucking failed at answering the question about his mother."