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Date: Sat, 10 Mar 2007 21:36:41 -0600
From: Danhol900@aol.com
Message-ID: <c4c.100c91f2.33247ecc@aol.com>
Subject: Brutal Trucker Sex Capter 14 (M+/m, Oral, Anal, Domination, NC, rape)
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===================
Here's Chapter 14. Let me know if you're enjoying them and want me to
submit more. _danhol900@aol.com_ (mailto:danhol900@aol.com)
Brutal Trucker Sex #14
Recap of Chapter 13 for context:
"I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the sound of a man clapping
behind me; slowly at first, but then increasing as if this were the conclusion
of some kind of Opera. I couldn't turn my head to see who it was but I was
looking up into Sgt. Carter's eyes as a broad smile filled his face and he
blurted out, "Holy Fuck. Well I'll be damned..."
Chapter 14:
Slowly the clapping stopped but still I could not see who else was in the
office. I stayed on my knees with my head wedged between Sgt. Carter's body
and the mahogany desk. Suddenly Sarge spun around and snapped to attention,
almost like a military reflex. It was then I saw that Mr. Spignotti had
joined us; apparently signs on doors were not meant for him. I saw no indication
that Sgt. Carter resented the intrusion and if he did I could not imagine him
saying so. I tried to stand up too but a strong black hand on my head
prevented me as Sgt. Carter spat out, "Where the fuck you think you're going
honky? I don't remember giving permission to stand." Mr. Spignotti strutted
into the room like he owned the place and everyone in it, which of course he
did. Entirely business-like, even at this early morning hour, Mr. Spignotti
brusquely informed Sgt. Carter that he came in early to see how the new house
slut was progressing. That he'd, "skipped his usual 20 minutes on the bag but
figured the warehouse slut might relieve some of his natural male aggression
and the tensions at least as good as his usual workout would" a snide
condescending sneer on his achingly handsome swarthy face. I stayed on my knees in
my pink rose panties, my red lips, large red tits and army dick slime oozing
from my mouth and nose onto my chin. Simply breathing was producing bubbles
from my mouth and nose to the sadistic amusement of the powerful men looming
over me. I was a complete mess and the constant camera flashes didn't help.
Even with my arms now free I didn't dare move a muscle; remaining
statue-still and church mouse quiet. Mr. Spignotti looked down at me still on my knees
and smiled the biggest most condescending smirk saying simply, "Sergeant,
report".
"I'm concentrating on the upper body today, Sir. Twenty sets of 20
push-ups, thirty sets of 50 sit-ups, ten sets of thirty squat-thrusts and a little
cardio for that rosy pink glow, Sir. We'll double that tomorrow, Sir" Sgt.
Carter reported. "Good job Sergeant, fuckin good job. Nice bitch panties and
make-up too, Sergeant; gives the bitch a first-class slutty look. And that
last exercise, what do you call that last little number, Sergeant?" Mr.
Spignotti inquired with a gleam in his eye. "Just throatin, Sir", Sgt. Carter
replied humbly, "just your basic army issued basic army throatin 101, Sir.
All my honky recruits got to learn that maneuver the very first day. Might
just save their lives if'n they was to be captured by an enemy combatant with a
hard cock as big as ole "Pounder" here, Sir" to smiles and chuckles from
both of them. "Not likely Sergeant, not fuckin likely" I heard Mr. Spignotti
scoff with a bit of admiration in his voice. They were talking about me like
I wasn't even there; like I was a dumb farm animal beneath consideration. "
What is your bottom line assessment of the little bitch, Sergeant? Is he up
to the task we discussed?"
"Well", Sgt. Carter seemed to think about this for a few minutes with a far
away look in his eyes like he was running the numbers in his head. Finally
he replied, "Well Sir, in my opinion the kid's not completely broken yet. I
still get a sense of resistance, like he's fuckin thinking about himself and
not the cock he's servicing. I noticed it on my very first plunge down that
throat pussy with my black balls settin on that pretty pink chin; a little
fight still there. I actually got a very subtle sense that somehow the slut
seemed to think that I should give a flyin fuck if he was turning fuckin blue
or not. Like I should even give a shit about him at all if you can actually
believe that, Sir", he added incredulously.
"How long till his much needed attitude adjustment, Sergeant?" Mr.
Spignotti asked. "Some of 'em never learn, Sir. Some are naturals right out of
the gate and some of the best got to learn it. Shit Sir, you know me from the
Trove; it sure does get my ball juices boiling just thinking 'bout breakin a
honky bitch of these kinds of bad habits. Them's the ones that are better
for having been broke first, and sure as shit gives ole Pounder a work out too,
Sir. Shit, fuckin Pounder here loves a little 'tude justin'. Fuckin
designed for honky 'tude 'justin, Sir." Sgt. Carter spoke with authority, like
he'd been doing this for many years to many cracker sluts.
Mr. Spignotti looked down at my slime covered face saying, "Sure would be a
shame to not take advantage of a fucking pussy boy kneeling right here" as he
turned his attention to me for the first time since he entered. Mr.
Spignotti looked down at me still on my knees, too afraid to move a muscle with my
legs still painfully spread and my balls very noticeably vulnerable. Anger
filled Mr. Spignotti's eyes as he unexpectedly hauled his right shiny leather
dress shoe back and kicked me full force in my already traumatized balls. I
crumpled over in agony clutching my groin as Mr. Spignotti grabbed my blond
hair lifted me up and painfully threw me down on my chest onto the desk. I was
in so much pain all I could do was try to breathe so I didn't vomit as the
adrenaline flowed through my system for the second time of my very first shift
on the job at Spignotti and Sons distribution Center. I couldn't see this
as a long term employment opportunity at this moment in time. The benefits
just didn't seem worth the bother.
Sgt. Carter grabbed me by the blond hair, yanked me firmly to my feet and
repositioned me firmly to the desk with a single strong hand around the back of
my neck as Mr. Spignotti started to unbearably grope me from behind. He
grabbed my brutalized sensitive balls and squeezed them with his left hand as he
whipped out a foot-long shiny switchblade knife in front of my face saying, "
What the fuck did I tell you 'bout pussy boys and hard cock around me
faggot. Do I have to make good on my promises at your god damned fuckin interview
to keep that little dick soft around me?" He brought the knife down quickly
behind me and started fumbling around back there as I recalled his
heart-stopping threat to cram my own balls and cock down my throat if he ever saw my
hard dick again. Survival instincts took over; my dick swiveled
instantaneously as I felt his hand grip my suddenly limp cock through the pink rose
panties. Still he held the knife back there staring angrily into my eyes as I
started to scream and plead that he please let me keep my cock and balls. Mr.
Spignotti and Sgt. Carter both seemed to relish my newest anguish as this moment
of psychological torture seemed to last forever. My heart stopped and my
screams raised about 2 octaves as I heard the sound of silk tearing and felt a
tugging on the rose panties, the cold knife sliding gently across my skin, my
balls still jam-packed into Mr. Spignotti's manicured hands. I was
desperate and frantic but after the shredding sound ended he removed his hands from
my excruciated balls. Finally I started breathing again. All Mr. Spignotti
had actually done was to tear a four inch slit in the panties so he could "
fuck my tight slut hole without removing the fuckin panties" he coldly informed
me. I was a sweating, drooling babbling mess from the psychological games
these two sadistic men were playing with me as they cruelly abused my body and
my mind.
"Now that I got this slut just how I like 'em for dickin, my cock's hungry
for a little 'bitchhole breakfast' fuck. Gonna use some of that fuckin
Grade A army spooge as lube, Sergeant". I heard the now familiar sound of a
fine silk suit trouser zipper descending and saw the tan, semi-rigid cock of Mr.
Spignotti spring out. God Mr. Spignotti terrified me to my very core. I
could sense extreme authority emanating from him which attracted me to him and
at the same time I felt a true peril (his sadistic side) that my mind told me
was an uncontrollable menace; something to recoil from. My mind wanted to
run away and my cunt wanted to learn what would happen next. I was conflicted,
just like my cock that longed to spring to attention at the thought of this
handsome, polished and sadistically omnipotent man shrank out of self
preservation. Cross currents of desires and motives swirled in my mind as I froze,
not knowing what to do or how to handle the situation. I was a deer in
headlights, wide-eyed and terrified, but my hole was still itching from the "
bitch gel" Sarge applied earlier.
Mr. Spignotti slid another Trojan condom on his quickly hardening cock.
Apparently I would always be unsuitable to receive any precious Spignotti seed
inside my disgusting bitch butthole. He twisted my head around and began
rubbing the latex-coated pole of Sicilian meat all around my face; covering every
inch of its surface with a slick coating of black Sergeant sperm as
lubricant for his early morning fuck. Then Mr. Spignotti snarled, "I feel like dickin
this bitch like the whore he is. Flip that pussy onto his back right here
on the edge of your desk, Sgt. Carter" as I heard quiet murmurs and chants
from behind the glass wall. Sgt. Carter deftly twisted my arms in a single
rapid motion such that my body had no recourse but to follow. My legs fell
loosely over the edge, my butt was positioned exactly where Mr. Spignotti wanted
it; at crotch level ready for early morning plowing. Sgt. Carter firmly held
both of my arms to the table; the effort brought his face intimately close to
his own. My legs were forced up and around Mr. Spignotti's silk suit covered
hips in the classic mission-style position. I felt Sgt. Carter's hot breath
on my face and saw the look of glee in the eyes of Mr. Spignotti as he drove
his slimy latex covered cock through the slit in the panties and rammed it
balls deep in one powerful thrust. "Fuck yeah", I heard, "OOOHHH Fuckin Fuck
yeah". It was like the sound of a man pushing out a gigantic turd as Mr.
Spignotti seemed to entirely engulf my slim 18 year old teenage body. The first
thrust was so powerful that it momentarily knocked the air out of me as a
new dread filled my mind. If this was only the first plunge, what else was in
store for me next?
Without a moment's pause for my cunt to adjust to this new intrusion Mr.
Spignotti started right into full fuck stride. He starting jabbing and poking
viscously at my hole, slamming his hard cock balls deep with each thrust.
Simply stated he fucked me to hurt me. The pain was incredible as I felt like I
was being ripped apart by this powerful and domineering man thrusting wildly
above my sprawling pink body. Even as the plunges continued there was a
kind of cold calculating control in his attack on me; like Mr. Spignotti was
methodically probing every side and corner of my butt hole. The thrusts and the
pain started building in intensity as Mr. Spignotti threw his head back in
order to increase the power behind each thrust. Sgt. Carter's strong hands
held me firmly in place as the pounding from above would have been strong
enough to drive me from the table to the floor otherwise. My god I realized, I was
nothing to Mr. Spignotti but a punching bag; a human punching bag without
feelings or any significance. I was nothing but a workout for him; this time
for his cock instead of his fists.
I clenched my eyes and tried my best to ignore the incredible pain of Mr.
Spignotti's assault but I simply couldn't. Without a hard cock to take the
edge off, I could feel nothing but pain; not a hint of pleasure would ever be a
part of any of Mr. Spignotti's fucks. Suddenly his comment about 20
minutes on the bag hit home as I started to worry I couldn't take twenty minutes of
this agony. Mr. Spignotti was using his cock like a fist and was
punch-fucking me for all he was worth. Sgt. Carter was like the trainer standing
behind the bag, maintaining the bags position for the next punch as I was
pummeled from the inside by a thick hard Sicilian latex covered cock. Each thrust
shoved me back a few inches on the desk as Sgt. Carter would reposition me on
the up-thrust for the next downward plunge. They became the perfect fuck
team as a natural rhythm set in determined entirely by Mr. Spignotti.
Mr. Spignotti was the true Boss here and he determined the pace and the
angle of each latex-covered cock punch. Sgt. Carter followed his lead with
precision and all I could do was to try my best to please the powerful and
sadistic owner so the pain would end as quickly as possible. The "punching"
seemed never ending; to continue indefinitely. I knew I couldn't stand anymore
but I was powerless to do anything about it. Tears welled in my eyes as I
tried to struggle and sit up but was I held firmly in place by the strong black
hands of a soldier who was clearly enjoying the show.
Throughout the entire ordeal so far Sgt. Carter would whisper in my ear, too
quietly for Mr. Spignotti to hear, things like, "Fuck yeah, now that's how
to use a fuckin honky hole" or "Get used to this bitch" or even "My-o-my,
sure does this ole Sergeant's heart good watchin little honky bitch getting
used, scum. Fucking does my heart a heap o' good". Sarge would occasionally
send shivers down my spine with a painful bite on my ear during the
particularly cruel and painful fuck sequences. Without a hard dick to divert my
attention and help alleviate the pain I was forced to think of nothing else but
the sadistic cock stabbing me relentlessly. The dual purpose of pain for me
and recreation for Mr. Spignotti was obvious to me, to Sgt. Carter and even to
the horny truckers behind the glass. Simply put my hole was being used as a
punching bag for the physical recreation of Mr. Spignotti and my own pain and
humiliation was of no consequence to either man in the room.
I began to panic and became almost claustrophobic as these two men enveloped
and inserted themselves into my inner most part of me; Mr. Spignotti into my
body and Sgt. Carter into my psyche. The pounding got worse and worse and
my struggles to get away were met by amusement and derision by the two men
who held dominion over me. I cried out, I screamed, I tried to twist and turn
to alleviate some of the pain to no benefit. A look at the clock on the wall
told me that Mr. Spignotti had already gone over the twenty minutes and
showed no sign of ending anytime soon. I was beside myself and the flashes,
cheers and chants of the waiting truckers behind the class didn't make me feel
any better. I felt like a trapped animal as instinct took over as I
instinctively tried anything to make the attack end. My arms were held firmly in place
by Sgt. Carter who met my struggles with a quiet "That's right honky, fight
all you want. Won't make no difference and might just prolong the
inevitable. SSSSHIIIITTTT honky, I seen Mr. Spignotti here plow pussies at the Trove
for fucking hours on end; fuckin hours and hours. I seen that bastard turn
virgin honky hole like yours into fuckin hamburger, just for the sheer god
damned fuckin fun of it".
Well this was too much for my mind to take and I snapped. I don't know what
make me do it, instinct I guess, but I simply had to make the pounding stop,
even if only for a minute. Shit even if only for a few seconds, I simply
had to make the pounding stop. Without my arms to fight Mr. Spignotti off all
I could do was to wrap my legs around his waist and squeeze him as tight as
possible. I screamed out, "Please no more, no more. I can't take any
more, please." I was desperate to do anything to make the pain stop. All I
heard from above me was a sharp, "What the fuck?", as a right fist slammed my
face with three short powerful jabs followed immediately by two strong Italian
hands pounding my head onto the desk until I reluctantly released my pitiful
attempt to restrain Mr. Spignotti. After that all hell broke loose as gasps
then cheers went up behind the glass.
Mr. Spignotti went into a rage like I had never seen before. I thought I
was deadmeat as he kept his cock buried balls deep in my battered hole
shouting, "What the fuck was that you little fuckwadd bastard?!! You got the nerve
to try to stop me from fucking that god damned slimy fuckin bitch hole?!! Go
d dammit I aughtta fucking slit your throat right now! Fucking bitch should
be thanking me for dickin your disgusting hole not fuckin complaining!"
Then, looking over at Sgt. Carter he declared, "Your instincts are right
Sergeant, this bitch needs to learn his place if he's gonna stay here. We got to
teach this bitch a fuckin lesion". Mr. Spignotti roughly reached under my legs
and painfully twisted my legs up then downward to the table with his hands
on the underside of each knee. My knees were pressed painfully onto the
table. His entire weight was on his hands forcing my legs into a very unnatural
and extremely painful position the purpose of which was to entirely prevent my
use of my own legs with the additional advantage of raising my newly
vulnerable butthole up and forward for perfect frontal assault by Mr. Spignotti's
cock. From that moment on Mr. Spignotti started power-fucking my hole with all
the strength he had. He would slam his dick in full force then rip it out
all the way just to slam it home again. The sharp slapping sounds of cock
against pussy echoed throughout the office. The sounds exploded in my ears as
each smack sound was matched by an internal punch from the terrible monstrous
cock. The pounding was excruciating and didn't stop. I was quickly and
methodically reduced to a worthless piece of shit whose only purpose and reason
for being at the warehouse was to provide a fuck hole for Mr. Spignotti's
relentless and insatiable cock.
There was nothing for me to do now but endure the "beating"; made all the
worse by the cheers behind the glass and the stern "Take it Bitch, take it all
honky" louder now from Sgt. Carter at my head. It was as if he was
encouraging Mr. Spignotti to give me what I deserved. I didn't have the use of my
arms or legs and my butthole was in the perfect whore fuck position. I made
the mistake of looking up into the face of Mr. Spignotti as he was hammering
full force into me. He met my pleading gaze with complete rage and fury
spewing insults like acid rain upon my already traumatized psyche. Mr. Spignotti
spewed a steady stream of insults; each syllable punctuated by a cock punch
saying, "Fuckin faggot think you're too good to be dicked huh? Too fuckin
good to take my fuckin dick. You're nothin but a fuckin cum slut, a god damned
fuckin cum slut as far as I'm concerned. Shit, fuck yeah, take it bitch;
take my fuckin dick inside that fuckin bitch hole. Take it deep like the fuckin
whore you are. Fuckin trucker bitch whore. Little trucker bitch whore just
itching for my dick antcha slut?..." Mr. Spignotti viscously pounded my
hole with each significant syllable of his tirade. He was quite literally
driving his points home to me. There was an irregular cadence to the hate-fuck he
was inflicting upon me that prevented me from anticipating the next teeth
jarring thrust. I was left to endure the verbal onslaught at the same time as
the excruciating cunt pounding.
Slowly my mind began to fold in upon itself as my body was beaten and
pulverized. I was unable to do anything to make the torture end, my arms and legs
were pinned painfully to the desk top. Mr. Spignotti's cruel words were
literally pounded into me as my mind began to concentrate on nothing else and
slowly I began to believe the insults to be true. Gradually my natural
resistance faded as I learned to accept my new role; a fuck hole for Mr. Spignotti to
pound. My new purpose was to provide recreation, entertainment and
amusement to that latex covered dick slamming relentlessly inside me. My whole
consciousness centered on two things; my butthole and Mr. Spignotti's dick.
Nothing else mattered now, just the pleasure my cunt could give to his cock .
Mr. Spignotti checked several times to make sure my dick had stayed soft and
I knew I would have been finished if it hadn't. All this really meant was
that the torture could continue and I actually did think that one way to make
this all end would be to make my dick hard. I marveled anew at the incredibly
strong survival instincts central to all human beings. Gradually I started
babbling, pleading for Mr. Spignotti to stop. I promised him anything if he
would, that I'd do what ever he wanted if he'd stop. This just seemed to
amuse the sadistic bastard as he flashed me an evil grin saying, "Don't you
worry none, bitch. You'll do exactly what I want. Rest assured. I sure as
shit can guarantee you of that" to laughter between Mr. Spignotti and Sgt.
Carter. I couldn't stop myself. I kept up my pleading until Mr. Spignotti had
had enough. He callously instructed Sgt. Carter, "Sergeant, I'm tired of
this whore's fuckin belly aching. Cram whatever the fuck you want down his
throat so I can plow the bitch in fuckin peace". Sgt. Carter was not the kind
that needed to think long and hard about a command like this as I heard the
familiar sound of a zipper descending for the third time that night.
Sgt. Carter was already poised with his crotch at my head so a simple press
on my forehead downward had me in the perfect position for a second throat
rape of the night by Sgt. Carter's humungous shiny black cock. Already a
generous coating of precum dribbled from the dick head. This time all I heard
was, "Fuck Yeahhhh!!" as my throat expanded suddenly and my adam's apple was
forced up and out of the way of the quickly descending cock head. I was
forced to image what the scene looked like as camera flashes reminded me this was
all being preserved on film; my face blushed a rosy glow as Sgt. Carter began
picking up the speed of his second honky throatin of my very first shift at
Spignotti and Sons.
This seems like a good place to end Chapter 14. I'm always interested in
comments and suggestions. Please let me know what you think of my true life
experiences in NJ in the 80's. Let me know if anyone is readin these stories.
That's the only thing that keeps me posting. Write me at danhol900@aol.com
<BR><BR><BR>**************************************<BR> AOL now offers free
email to everyone. Find out more about what's free from AOL at
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