Date: Tue, 9 May 2006 14:51:41 EDT
From: Danhol900@aol.com
Subject: Brutal Trucker Sex #10

Brutal Trucker Sex #12

Disclaimer: This section of the Brutal Trucker Sex Series uses a character
borrowed from the Raw Recruits story on Nifty Cafe written by Jarrod.  For
me this is one of the hottest and well written stories on Nifty and I
heartily recommend it if you haven't already read it.  The character of
Sgt. Carter is based on the writing of Jarrod but the words and deeds of
Sgt. Carter in this story are my own creation.  Any inconsistencies from
the original character are unintentional and should be considered literary
license.

This chapter picks up the action after two chapters listed in Nifty
Beastiality Titus Too.  These chapters were posted on May 5th .  If the
reader needs any background for this chapter then he is advised to review
these chapters as long as you are not offended by male human/male dog sex.
For those who do not wish to read those chapters all you really need to
know is that after my episode with Titus I had impressed Mr. Spignotti
enough that I got the job.  This story picks up on Monday after my Thursday
night interview.

First day of the new job.

The weekend flew by, probably because I spent most of the time in bed
recovering my strength from my ordeal on Thursday night.  At 10:45PM Monday
night there was a loud knock on the door of the shed I was housed in and
Joe Bruno and Titus strutted in barking orders.  All Joe did was throw a
tight lavender colored pair of work overalls and tiny pink ruffled ladies
panties with roses adorning the crotch area at me and commanded me to "Put
these fuckers on, bitch.  Your shift is eleven to seven so hop to it.
You're gonna meet Sergeant Carter, your new shift supervisor.  He's a real
piece of work. A goddamned fuckin piece of work" as Joe continued
ominously, "but I sure a shit like the son of a bitch."

When Joe Bruno lead me to the shift supervisor's office there was a hand
printed sign in crisp military style writing saying simply;

  "STAY THE FUCK OUT!

   ABSOLUTELY NO ADMITTANCE

   BITCH TRAINING SESSION IN PROGRESS"

I didn't like the look of this and even Joe seemed cowed as he simply
knocked respectfully on the door and shuttled me inside without entering
himself.  He closed the door behind me quietly and ominously.

I was surprised when I first saw Sgt. Carter.  Somehow my lily-white
suburban upbringing hadn't prepared me for even the concept that a black
man could be a supervisor and even more unfathomable that he would be
supervising me.  I mean, I'm not a bigot, shit by this time I'd taken more
black cum inside me than any whore on Times Square but I simply hadn't
expected it.  I was going to be supervised by a lithe, trim and muscular
black man with ram-rod straight military bearing.  Every crease in his tan
warehouse uniform was perfect and I imagined he spent hours making sure he
presented the perfect figure of authority.  Not vain certainly, just proud
of his appearance and certain of the importance of making a good
impression.

My dick twitched as much as possible; what with it being crammed into the
tiny tight pink rose panties.  I stood in front of Sgt. Carter and couldn't
help myself as I shuffled from side to side trying to relieve the pressure
on my lengthening and thickening cock.  Sgt. Carter had a bemused smile on
his face like he was reading my mind and enjoyed my discomfort.  When I
reached my hand into the overalls he'd apparently had enough as he sprang
like mountain lion and whipped my hand away shouting, "What the fuck do you
think you're doing, fuckwadd?  Did I tell you could stroke your fuckin
little pink monkey?  Shit, and with me sitting right here watching.  What
the fuck kind of shithead did they send me?  God Damn I can see I got some
work to do on this fuckin project" he derided with anger filling his face.

"Strip the hell out of that ridiculous outfit you're wearing and let me
eyeball what kind of scum sucker I've got to work with", he barked.  Of
course I jumped out of my overall and stood embarrassed in my new pink
panties.  Well, Sgt. Carter thought this was a sight too funny for words as
he roared with laughter and my face reddened with shame.  I instinctively
tried to hide my shame by placing my hands over my crotch when he shouted,
"Attention!" and waited for me to snap to attention.  I tried my best to
mimic all the movies and TV shows I'd seen and I guess I did an OK job
since Sgt. Carter returned his attention to my panties.

"Are these regulation underwear, son?" he asked barely able to contain his
laughter.  I was dumbfounded and didn't know how to respond.  I knew better
than to tell the sergeant that Mr. Bruno gave them to me so I silently took
all his abuse.  "Well I know you honkies have a lot of fuckin unusual
habits but I got to tell you, pussybreath, on you these fuckers look right.
Wear them every night you report to me.  Got it, scum?"  I nodded my head
meekly.

Sgt. Carter then proceeded to walk slowly around me examining me like I was
a side of beef.  He ran his hands through my blond hair, inspected my
pathetic pencil-thin attempt at a moustache and stroked my body inspecting
my muscles and boning.  He held his hand against my face like he was
examining the stark contrast between his coal black hand and my pink white
complexion.  I felt like a show dog of horse being inspected before sale.
He just grunted and was deep in thought, like he was planning how he would
need to whip me into shape for the new job Mr. Spignotti had designated for
me.  Then he commanded me to remove the panties.  This was a relief as it
allowed my swelling cock to spring forward and upward in a semi-erection
which was not welcomed by Sgt. Carter.  He whipped his hand down as hard as
he could onto my semi-hard dick with such force that I instinctively bend
halfway at the waist in shock.  I was seeing stars as he then snapped me
back upright with a quick painful snap of a handful of my hair.
Sgt. Carter was clearly checking out my reactions.  He seemed pleased to
note that his hard slap on my cock had stiffened it rather than softened it
as one might expect from your typical recruit.  Apparently I was not your
typical recruit.  He smiled an evil grin as he murmured, "Yeah, you liked
that didn't you, honky?" he smiled.  I didn't know if he was talking to me
or my hardening dick so I kept quiet, not wanting to anger this dominating
black man further.

Then in a direct impassionate dialog I was briefed; informed by Sgt. Carter
that he was moonlighting for Mr. Spignotti who asked him to get the new
house bitch ready for unveiling in two weeks.  That he had reviewed all the
Polaroids from my "interview" and had a sense of my innate abilities.  That
in the meantime I was to perform extensive exercises to build up my stamina
and strength and "put some fuckin meat on your bones" as he put it.  I was
also informed that he would be working on every muscle I had, even a few
that may not be seen but sure as hell could be felt by hard trucker cock.
"Bend the fuck over whitey, I want to inspect the hole that so impressed a
jaded fucker like Mr. Spignotti.  Shit, I've seen that fucker at the
Treasure Trove and that nasty son-of-a-bitch is not easily impressed.
Fucker's a God-dammed legend there.  A God-damned fuckin legend" he
declared with a bit of admiration in his voice.

"Something's not quite right here", he said thoughtfully.  "I know; a honky
bitch needs some make-up to match those pretty panties.  Just don't seem
right without it" he said as he strode over to the desk and took out some
kind of red colored gel.  Sgt. Carter then took his finger and the gel and
"painted" around my little pink white male tits so that they looked big,
red, round and swollen like a real slut's.  He painted my lips into pouty
red whore lips and even had me bend over to "give that pussy the inviting,
come hither look" as he put it; spreading the gel around my pussy lips like
it was lipstick.  Satisfied with his work he said simply, "yeah, now you
look like something I'd fuck" as my dick twitched noticeably at the
thought.  The office had a wall of glass that allowed me a good clear
reflection of my new appearance and it was quite a transformation.
Standing there I did look like a skinny, flat-chested slut.  My lips were
full and red and my tiny male tits had been transformed into female looking
breasts.  A few obviously frustrated truckers who had heard about the new
warehouse bitch at Spignotti and Sons were already gathering in front of
the glass waiting for a show.  Sgt. Carter seemed fine with this; I
personally was a little embarrassed.

Sgt. Carter then had me bend over as he wet a finger with spit and
inspected the inside of my butthole.  When he was satisfied he then
inspected my mouth, testing my gag reflex and ability to take two, three
then four fingers all the way into my throat.  Again Sgt. Carter seemed
enthralled by the contrast of those black fingers and my painted red lips.
I could taste my own pussy juice on his fingers and cursed myself for not
cleaning out better.  He seemed satisfied as he strutted over to his desk
and removed a circular tin of some kind of ointment.  He opened the tin and
sniffed it heartily with a broad smile on his face said simply, "Fuck I do
love the smell of pussy" and took out a heaping finger full.  To this day I
remember exactly what he did next.  The pattern is seared in my
consciousness.  He carefully inserted his slime covered index finger not
touching the sides of my canal on the way in.  Then in a circular motion he
slowly and deliberately twisted his finger four times around and
unhurriedly brought his finger out in an outward spiral ending with three
more circles around the outside opening of my pussy.  "Got me a buddy at
the zoo who puts the drippings from all the bitches in heat in this here
cream.  Fuck, could be bitch juice from anything from hyena to an elephant.
But then pussy's pussy, aint it boy?" he asked with real contempt in his
voice.  I had a flashback to my ordeal with Titus and knew he'd seen those
pictures too as my face reddened.  "Now pull those cute little rose panties
up and let's get the fuck to work" he declared with a hint of pleasure in
his voice.

I began the next six hours of my eight hour shift performing calisthenics
with the muscular Sgt. Carter yelling orders in my face.  My only breaks
were five minutes every hour for water.  Only a few minutes into my workout
a strange sensation started inside me.  It was very subtle at first, just a
slight, almost imperceptible inch; a tingling really. But the itch wouldn't
stop and got stronger and stronger over the hours of exercises.
Sgt. Carter clearly knew what I was feeling and seemed pleased as shit.  A
wicked broad smile spread over his face, bright white teeth gleaming in the
blackest face I'd ever seen.  He got up inside my face while I was taking a
break and looked me squarely in the eye said, "You want to get fucked now,
don't you slut?  You want this big ole black dick tearin that pussy to
shreds, don't yo boy?  Shit, let me show you exactly what we're talking
`bout, boy, before you go agreeing to something you can't handle."  With
that Sgt. Carter stood, unzipped his neat and pressed uniform and the
largest, thickest, blackest dick I'd ever seen came flopping out.  It was
semi-hard, about 10 inches already and as thick as a beer can.  The shaft
was a purple-black of eggplant and the monster knob-like head was half
again the thickness on the shaft and the shiniest blackest color.
Sgt. Carter was uncut so the black hood tightly gripped the wide, black
flared dick head and looked a little like some kind of angry evil
Franciscan monk.  Already it was dripping precum from the pulsing lips.  He
carefully peeled back his pants revealing a tattoo on his lower abdomen at
the base of that monster with the words "PUSSY POUNDER" in two inch high
black block letters.  From behind the glass wall I noticed the flash of a
camera; apparently this session was going to be preserved for posterity as
my interview had.  I tried to imagine what the photos would look like as my
face reddened again.

My dick stood even harder and my hole started itching even worse but my
mind knew that that monster would kill me.  He just roared with laughter
sensing my ambiguity saying, "later boy, you'll get this and more when
you're done".  God I hoped he didn't mean when I was done with tonight's
calisthenics.  For the next three hours Sgt. Carter put me through my paces
with that giant black cock still jutting from his uniform.  He didn't
bother to put it back in his pants.  However, not once did that monster
soften; it remained hard and thick with a drop of pearly precum
precariously balancing on the slit opening throughout the entire training
session.  It was mesmerizing me.  When Sgt. Carter would bend over me to
instruct me on the proper position for some exercise occasionally his cock
would be just inches from my mouth but I knew better than to give into my
desires, so scared was I of the power of the anger I could feel radiating
from this man.  I could smell the musky man scents emanating from his
crotch.  The scent was so strong it made me lightheaded and my dick rock
hard.

Sgt. Carter was obviously well trained in developing bodies capable of
withstanding whatever he or the Spignotti truckers were capable of dreaming
up.  He kept that hard dripping cock and his big full low hanging bull
balls out of his uniform the rest of the evening.  I was riveted by the
sight and found myself using it for inspiration to get the final squat
thrust or push-up demanded by Sgt. Carter.  He seemed to be able to read my
mind and sneered comments like "fucking cock suckin slut" or "fuckin honky
bitch" every time I completed a set of exercises.  My dick was hard but my
mind imagined with dread what this strong, confident, sadistic Blackman
with a clear hatred of white boys and a monstrous black dick would dream
up.  Throughout the shift of my exercises the itch just kept getting worse
and worse as I found myself thinking about nothing but the burning itch and
some way to scratch it.  By 6AM in the morning I was becoming desperate for
anything to quench the itch and my state of mind was becoming obvious to
Sgt. Carter and the frustrated truckers still milling around the office
glass wall.  Sgt. Carter was superbly enjoying the whole situation; keen to
the fact that my need was beginning to overwhelm my fear of his gigantic
black dick.

"OK fuckwadd", came the command, "take five" as I collapsed in exhaustion
on the floor.  I was panting for breath, every muscle was as sore as I'd
felt the night of my interview.  I was unable to lift my arms any longer
which seemed to be exactly what Sgt Carter was waiting for.  He grabbed a
handful of blond hair and lifted me up to crotch level banging my head
firmly and painfully on the ledge of his mahogany desk.  His grip was
excruciating and kept my face from moving even an inch in one direction or
the other. I was pinned exactly where he wanted me and wasn't going
anywhere until Sgt. Carter decided.

With my head firmly anchored by his fist of my own blond hair I felt him
brusquely insert his index finger and run it slowly around my mouth
checking my teeth.  A smile spread across his face as he pried open my
mouth and visually inspected my mouth; like a horseman inspecting his next
purchase.  More camera flashes from behind the glass wall; I felt like a
piece of meat.  Next he said something that I remember like it was
yesterday.  He said, "Mmm, Mmmm, you sure got some pretty little pearly
whites there cracker.  Always did like my boys with clean white teeth but I
got to admit, nothing like throatin a toothless honky either.  Like they
done in that movie deliverance.  You seen that movie boy, know what I'm
saying here, fuckwadd?  We can do this one of two ways and this is probably
the only fuckin time you's got a choice.  You can make sure that not one
fucking tooth brushes against what it aint supposed to or you'll be
swallowing these teeth along with my cock.  It's entirely up to you,
fuckface.  What do you say, teeth or no teeth for you today?" an angry
glare in his eyes.  Sheepishly I replied, "Please let me keep my teeth Sir,
I'll make sure you don't feel them.  I promise", I pleaded almost crying
from the humiliation of having to beg for my own teeth from a black man.

With that his whole demeanor changed and I could see hatred in his eyes and
an even harder and angrier looking black pole of flesh jutting from his
uniform.  Without warning the Sergeant pressed his slime covered dick head
to my lips and held it there enjoying the complete control he had over me.
"Shit" he said, "if I knew fuckin girl-length blond hair like yours made
for suck a fine face hole handle, I'd have let my troops keep theirs right
through fuckin basic" he sneered sliding his thick head around my red
colored lips.


The head of Sgt. Carter's hard cock felt larger than even any of the
trucker cocks that fucked me during the interview.  He slowly and
methodically slid the head around my lips like he enjoyed the look of my
painted red lips sliding along the head of his cock.  Every few minutes
he'd apply just slight pressure and watch my lips begin to part for him,
then he'd continue the circular motions.  He was teasing my lips, getting
them used to the idea that his cock was the driving force here and it would
determine when and how far my lips would spread.  The slow circular motion
and the sweaty musky scent of Sgt. Carter began to combine in my mind into
some kind a strange type of trance where everything else fell away from my
consciousness.  I heard no sounds, my sore muscles disappeared and I saw
nothing at all.  The horned truckers on the other side of the glass and
their clicking cameras fell away from my consciousness.  I must have closed
my eyes, which was a mistake, because suddenly I felt a hard bitch slap
across my face with the back of Sgt. Carter's left hand; jolting me sharply
back to reality as I heard the loud, threatening bellowing above me, "Don't
fuckin ever close your eyes when I'm dickin you boy, you got that pussy.  I
like to watch you fuckin crackers as you're chowing on my dick" as he
harshly shook my head with each syllable to emphasize his point.  We locked
eyes from then on.  I was not about to be told something twice by this
scary bastard.

With our eyes locked an evil wicked grin blossomed over Sgt. Carters coal
black face and his gaze bore down upon me with greater and greater
intensity.  I could feel the hatred burning in his face like you feel the
heat of a furnace.  Wave after wave of anger fell over me with that slick,
black pole sliding over my lips.  No words were spoken, none needed to be,
as Sgt. Carter positioned the head of his cock at my lips and pushed gently
but forcefully against my mouth.  Slowly my lips parted and I realized too
late that this monster cock was going to stretch my mouth like it had never
been stretched before.  I got panicky.  My lips were spread as tight as
they would go just to get the slime covered head inside.  I could feel my
cheeks swelling outward with the pressure of the dickhead firmly lodged in
my mouth.  I must have looked shocked, scared and demoralized as a joyous
smile erupted in Sgt. Carter's face with the chilling words, "There's no
turning back now fucker, you got black Army dick inside you and it's sure
as shit gonna make itself at home inside of honky".  "Shit.  Know what
pussy?  You look just like Alvin the chipmunk with my dickhead stretching
you out like that, just like fuckin Alvin" as his taunts degraded into
hysterical laughter. "Just like a fucking chipmunk, a fucking honky
chipmunk dieing to get all this Sergeant dick inside you?

"Go ahead baby, nurse on ole Sergeant's big ole black dick, nurse like the
fuckin dickwadd you are.  Yeah, baby, message that big old dick head, make
it feel nice and warm and comfy in that skanky honky face hole" Sgt. Carter
calmly commanded with our eyes still locked together and tears of shame and
fear welling in my own.  I tried to move my tongue around his head like I
had done to Madd-dog Thursday evening and I could feel the slimy precum
fluid seeping from the slit and down my throat.  Sgt. Carter saw my throat
muscles swallow and knew intuitively that I was swallowing his juice; he
seemed to love the thought as pride swelled his ego along with his dick and
my lips stretched even farther if you can believe that.  I vaguely was
aware of cheering and chants on the other side of the glass but my
attention was on the black pole of flesh stretching my mouth.

Once Sgt. Carter's dick juice and my own saliva had sufficiently lubed my
mouth and throat, he started poking around my mouth like a child playing a
game.  He'd move his dick to the right, then left, in a little and out a
little, never letting the head slip out of my mouth once he'd gone to the
trouble of getting it lodged inside the "honky hole".  He was playing a
game of dominance here. Letting me know that with my hair in his hands and
his dick lodged inside my mouth he was going to do whatever he wanted in
his own time.  I simply did my best to try to relax my mouth enough to let
him explore me with his dick.  Slowly he began picking up the pace and the
depth of his exploration, seeking the back of my mouth more often and with
more urgency.  Occasionally he'd press his dick head to my throat opening
and pry it open just a bit then back away only to repeat this again and
again.  Again the trance-like state came over me and the whole world
collapsed to just his dick and my mouth without anything else; no warehouse
voyeurs, no pink panties, no sound of the outside world; just the
occasional moan of pleasure as I felt the monster dickhead press deeper and
deeper towards my throat.

Just once I made the mistake of taking my eyes off of Sgt. Carter's face
during one particular pleasurable moan with his face straining skyward in
pleasure as his dick head was almost forced into my throat then pulled
back.  For just an instant my eyes were diverted to the black column of
meat and the "PUSSY POUNDER" tattoo still a good six inches from my face.
God it looked like a mile of black meat in front of me and my heart started
to pound; fright or pleasure I still don't know which.  A sharp tug on my
hair brought me back to reality as I focused again on the black face above
me; the man who had me completely under his control.  Anger seeped down
from above again as the dick started punching my throat with greater and
greater thrusts.  Each one was harder than the one before and I knew there
was nothing for me to do but to try to fight my gag reflex, breathe through
my nose and endure the violation.  My gaze never left Sgt. Carter's eyes
and I understood he knew every single sensation I was feeling.  He seemed
an expert at this and it was clear he had been down this road before with
many other honky face holes in the past.  My throat was being splayed open
by the biggest, hardest, blackest, angriest and most adept cock in the US
Army.  I felt a mixture of fear and contentment as I looked deeply into
those lust and hate-filled brown eyes boring down on me.

I felt Sgt. Carter shift his body so that his legs were pinning my arms to
my sides while my face was still positioned perfectly for the frontal
onslaught of his massive hard cock.  My arms were so sore from the previous
hours of exercise I could barely move them if I'd tried.  Sgt. Carter
increased the speed and the depth of his plunges, toying with my throat
opening so that one thrust would partially ram his massive uncut cock head
through my throat hole and get half the massive head in and the next thrust
would just tickle the opening.  I never knew what his next move would be as
my mouth and throat slowly and inescapably gave in to the idea that their
sole purpose right now was to satisfy that humungous black column of male
cock banging on the door for entry.

Suddenly Sgt. Carter's eyes narrowed perceptively and a distant far away
look infused them as I heard the words that froze my heart.  I heard the
bellowing grunt of a male in rut warning, "Breath now fucker, I'm going
in!" followed by the Marine grunt "HOORAH!!!"

This seems like a good place to end Chapter 12.  Let me know if you're
enjoying the adventures of a trucker slut so far.  There's butt loads more
to cum!

   Write me at danhol900@aol.com