Date: Tue, 23 May 2006 16:17:00 EDT
From: Danhol900@aol.com
Subject: Brutal Trucker Sex #12

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 he 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 he 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 the tension of the upcoming day as good as his usual
workout.  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.  Mr. Spignotti looked
down at me still on my knees a smiled the biggest "shit-eating" grin saying
simply, "Sergeant, report".

"I'm concentrating on the upper body today, Sir.  Twenty sets of 20
push-ups, thirty sets of 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 little number,
Sergeant?" Mr. Spignotti inquired with a gleam in his eye.  "Just throatin,
Sir", Sgt. Carter replied humbly, "just your basic army issued throatin.
All my honky recruits got to learn that maneuver the very first day.  Might
just save their lives if'n they was 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
kind of fight still there.  There was a very subtle sense that somehow the
slut seemed to think that I should give a fuck if he was turning blue.
Like I should give a shit about him at all if you can 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', Sir.  Fuckin designed for honky `tude `justin, Sir."
Sgt. Carter spoke with authority, like he'd been doing this for many years
to many honky 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 held me firmly to the deck 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
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 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 he had done was to tear a four inch slit in the
panties so he could fuck my hole without removing the panties he coldly
informed me.  I was a sweating, drooling babbling mess from the
psychological games these two sadistic men were playing with me.

"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 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 butthole.  He twisted my head around and began rubbing the
latex-coated pole of 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, "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 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.  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 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.

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 come from any of Mr. Spignotti's fucks.  Slowly I began to feel like a
punching bag as I realized that Mr. Spignotti was using my hole like he
would use a punching bag in a gym.  Suddenly his comment about 20 minutes
on the bag hit home as I started to worry I couldn't take twenty minutes of
this.  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 as I was pummeled from the inside by a 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" never ended but simply continued 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 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 god damned 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 bitch hole?!!  God dammit I
aughtta fucking slit your throat right now!  Fucking bitch should be
thanking me for the dicking 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 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
punctuated with cock punches 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.  Gradually 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 recreation 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 new 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 bastard as he flashed me an evil grin
saying, "Don't you worry none, bitch.  You'll do exactly what I want in any
case.  I sure as shit can assure 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 belly aching.  Cram whatever the
fuck you want down his throat so I can plow the bitch in peace".
Sgt. Carter was not the kind that needed to think long and hard about a
command like this as I heard the unmistakable 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 this chapter.  I'm always interested in
comments and suggestions.  Write me at danhol900@aol.com