Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2006 17:08:44 EST
From: Danhol900@aol.com
Subject: Brutal Trucker Sex #22

Recap oof Chapter 21:

"Shit that's fuckin beautiful, god damned fuckin 'BEEE-u-ti-FUUUULLL,"
Brundt snarled. "Fuckin black face and pink lips stretched fucking tight as
a drum across the base of my strong Aryan cock, fuckin BEEE-u-ti-FFUUULLLL"
I heard the son of a bitch spit out.  "Take that you fucking low life
slut", Brundt snarled as his hairy, heavy pink balls started slamming
against my "black" chin and his dick started tearing my throat from the
thick cigar ashes coating my mouth and throat.  Tears welled as I struggled
to breath and I heard the anonymous drunken taunt, "Fuck yeah, fuck the
niggas' throat man, fuck 'im good but save some of that shit for me, man"
as dozens of slurled drunken truckers agreed.

God help me I just couldn't get Mr. Spignotti's face and tented trousers
out of my mind as Brundt's cock forced my throat open.  I imagined a broad
smile on Mr. Spignotti's face, his gaze staring deep into my eyes as I made
sure my little "black" cock was still soft and limp as a sign of respect
for my sadistic, handsome all powerful Sicilian employer"

Chapter #22

Finally, after the sadistic Aryan truckers tired of brutalizing my throat
Vinton Brundt, still cocky and arrogant from his victory in the Dodge Ball
contest and Bocce Ball tie-breaker ripped his hard and cum-coated cock from
my mouth and twisted me over onto my back with my legs thrown over his
shoulders.  His drunken and glazed stare told me the man was no longer
thinking but had become an animal only interested in satisfying his lust
for ultimate power and the pleasure a domineering man can derive from it.

I felt his hard cock pressing at the still burnt and sore opening of my
fuck hole and tear painfully into me balls deep in one violent brutal
thrust.  As I opened my mouth to scream I felt the sadistic fucker spit a
huge wad of hot slimy cigar stained trucker spit directly into my mouth as
the thought sent waves of nausea over me. I was shocked, traumatized,
brutalized and demoralized as Vinton started one of the most hate-filled
fucks I'd ever experienced.  In his drunken state I don't know how much was
directed at me, a suburban, white teenaged neophyte trucker slut and how
much of this hatred was directed at the African race in general.  As I lay
there on my back, my black skin the object of so much hatred and pain
subjected by powerful white men who considered it their obligation to abuse
me I got a very small bit of the sense of what real Black men are subjected
to daily.

When Brundt finally stiffened and shot his load of Aryan seed into me an
idea seemed to flash across his drunken face.  His Honduran victory cigar
was now down to a stub as he chewed pensively on the stub before snarling,
"Know what fuckers?  This fuckin black bitch aint worth fuckin shit.  `Bout
the only thing its good for is as a fuckin cum dump and a fuckin ash tray
for my cigar.  Aint that right fuckface" he demanded just inches from my
face, "you're nothing but a fucking cum dump ash tray for Aryans to use as
we want?  Say it fucker, admit it to all these fine white truckers who sure
as shit are gonna have a fuckin ball with you tonight.  Tell us what you're
fuckin good for bitch!"

Tears ran down my face as I was forced to admit that the only thing I was
good for was for a nice warm receptacle for hot Aryan cum and an ashtray
for their victory cigars.  The drunken white truckers loved my admission as
hoots hollers and cat calls went up around the warehouse. Then the nasty
son of a bitch Brundt took the stub of his cigar and started rubbing the
hot ash over the newly traumatized fuck hole just as Mr. Spignotti had done
previously.  This time the bastard, however he wasn't simply satisfied with
torturing me and burning my hole, he actually shoved the still smoldering
cigar inside me.  I could feel the heat immediately as I struggled against
the strong white hands that held me on my back with my legs spread wide and
my ass open for abuse.  I pleaded with them to please get it out of me but
the heavily tattooed trucker named Harley only laughed, informing me that,
"bout the only way you gonna put that cigar out was with more fine Aryan
spunk.  Aint that right fuckers," more hoots and hollers, "The bitch is
fuckin begging to be filled with our seed men, fuckin begging to get bred
by fine Aryan cock.  Aint that so bitch?  You fuckin begging for cum?"

Knowing that this was the only way to stop the burning sensation inside me
I nodded my head, understanding that the cigar burns from Brundt and
Mr. Spignotti were going to make this one of the most painful fuckings of
my life.  The drunken truckers knew this too and it only seemed to make
them more horny, more desperate for my hole.  Harley quickly rose to the
challenge, had his hard pink dick balls deep inside me pounding away as my
screams echoed around the warehouse.  The contented evil sneer on his face,
his own cigar stub clenched tightly in a smile with his dirty thin lips on
his grimy unshaven face told me he loved pounding my blackened body into
submission.  Rather than impeding him my screeches only made him pound me
harder.  Essentially that sick evil bastard Harley was punch fucking me
with his hard cock grinding the cigar ashes deeper and deeper inside me.

As he finally mercifully started shooting his slimy slick goo deep inside
me I felt the heat of Brundt's cigar squelched.  I was a sobbing, cowering
mess as he painfully ripped his cigar ash and cum-covered dick free, strode
over to my head and twisted my face painfully up towards his own and
demanded, "Tell me thank you, bitch!"  I was dumbfounded as he snarled once
again louder this time, "I said, tell me THANK YOU," he shouted at the top
of his lungs, "you god damned fuckin whore, fuckin god damned slut!" as he
backhanded me before I could reply.

I murmured "Thank you, Sir" which didn't seem to appease his so I repeated
his declaration, "Thank you for fucking me Sir.  Thank you for fucking me
with your fine Aryan cock and filling me with your seed Sir.  I am worth
nothing other than being your cum dump and ash tray Sir.  Thank you" I
sobbed hysterically.

"Not good enough!" he shouted.  "Not fuckin good enough you fucking black
slut, fuckin low life black slut.  You're also good enough to clean this
fine Aryan cock too.  Go ahead, sweetheart, clean my cock free of your
fuckin pussy juices. Suck my cock clean, bitch" he shouted as he rammed his
still hard cock deep into my throat.  As I dealt with the hard pink cock in
my face I felt sharp hot searing pain at my fuck hole as the saditic
bastard Harley crammed his own cigar butt deeply inside me as well and the
same internal heat returned.

My attention was divided between trying to clean the cock cramming into my
throat and the burning heat inside.  Almost immediately I felt another
Aryan trucker position himself behind me as I was stuffed from both ends by
hard Aryan cock.  A cheer went up around me as both men hit their fuck
stride slamming into me in perfect synchrony such that no matter how hard
they pounded me I remained motionless as my poor beaten, bruised,
traumatized, blacken body absorbed their abuse.

This cycle continued until every white trucker in the warehouse, no only
the winning team but every fuckin white trucker had emptied his bulging,
heavy overflowing balls inside me and deposited his spent cigar stub as
well.  I was packed fuller than I'd felt for a long time with cigars, ashes
and trucker cum.  Still the brutal truckers continued their abuse with some
of the more sadistic ones coming back for seconds as everyone of them
enjoyed the show being presented for their enjoyment.  There were easily
twenty brutal white truckers in the warehouse that night.

Suddenly there was a loud commotion coming from the back of the warehouse.
This was apparently where Timmy and the Black truckers had made off to.
From my position on my back I saw the most incredible sight.  Poor, poor
little Timmy, his face and body covered with bruises and coated with cum
was being led to Sarge's military sing-song cadence of an Army matching
song into the main section where I was currently being pounded by Haystack.
One of the Black truckers had tied his belt around Timmy's neck and was
leading him like a dog on all fours.  The proud Black truckers all strutted
with a confident smile on their faces as they showed off their
accomplishments to their sworn enemies; the Aryans and their white
supporters.  Clearly poor little Timmy seemed worse for the wear as it was
very apparent that he had been fucked or worse by every one of these
arrogant Black truckers.  There must have been twelve of them and I felt
sorry for Timmy because I knew a little about what he must have gone
through.  He had been forced by drunken, angry Black truckers to serve them
as their reluctant fuck whore and cum dump.  Poor Timmy had been straight,
with a new wife and a baby on the way.  God knows what he must have
endured.

Most amazing of all was that the bastards had taken the orange traffic cone
and crammed the fucker halfway up poor Timmy's battered and bruised hole.
In his kneeling position the cone rose up at a 45 degree angle and wiggled
back and forth with each stride Timmy made on his knees.  Timmy's shame was
apparent as his reddened and tear stained face betrayed his shame; that the
secret of this abuse at the hands of these savage, sadistic Black men was
open and visible for everyone to see.  The sight only made Haystack pound
my fuck hole harder out of anger.

Without so much as a glance over at the Aryans, Sarge continued his song as
poor Timmy obediently followed orders; marching like a dog on all fours.
Sarge sang out, "ATTENNNTTTTIOONNN" as poor Timmy stopped marching and
stayed on his hands and knees with his head up and back straight.  He had
apparently been well trained by Sarge and his men during his hour of
absolute pain, horror and degradation.  All white eyes stared as Sarge sang
out, "On your slimy back, Bitch!!!" as Timmy obediently rolled over onto
his back mindlessly; like he'd been doing this and much more for these
strong Black men for a long time already.

Sarge's song brought out Mr. Spignotti as the two Spanish men in suits
slinked out silently minus their briefcases.  Mr. Spignotti immediately
positioned himself between the two warring camps trying to prevent the race
riot that seemed certain to explode at any moment.  The concern on his face
said that even he had not anticipated the drafting of pink little blond
faced Timmy as a substitute fuck whore by Sarge and his men.

Unmoved by Mr. Spignotti's attention Sarge strode up to the upturned
traffic cone crammed halfway up Timmy's butt and grabbing hold of his
semi-hard shiny black cock and started to piss a heavy long stream directly
into the funnel of the cone.  He was joined in mid stream by the other
Black truckers as one by one these proud Black men exerted their
superiority over little broken Timmy, all the while staring like a direct
challenge at Brundt and his sweaty drunken white truckers.  The sound of
Black trucker piss filling Timmy's funnel was clear and distinct as
occasionally a Black trucker would direct his spray at Timmy's face
shouting, "Open up fucker" as hot Black trucker piss filled both ends of
the poor guy.

"AAAAHHHH fuck that felt good" Sarge sighed as he finished pissing, shaking
the last drops into poor Timmy's upturned ass.  "Had to fuckin piss like a
god damned fuckin race horse.  Pounding honky pussy'll do that, won't it
men?" Sarge queried his supporters.  Every black face agreed they needed to
piss real bad and they universally seemed grateful to Timmy for this new
service he was providing them.  "Shit you honkies are good for more than
just fuckin." Sarge continued, "You make mighty fine fuckin toilets for
Black piss too.  Aint that right sweetie?  You a good toilet for ole Sarge
and his men, aintcha fuck face?" he demanded and poor Timmy had apparently
learned not to contradict Sarge or his men during his time at the back of
the warehouse.  The anger on the faces of the white truckers was nothing
compared to the reaction of Sarge and his men when they saw me in my
"blackface" body paint.  Mr. Spignotti stood like a wall keeping two
violent armies apart and it was a very long and tense struggle for him to
keep things under control.

Finally, Mr. Spignotti agreed that both sides had been wronged by the other
and both sides were entitled to some form of symbolic justice to restore
the pride and status of both.  Mr. Spignotti's idea was to start with both
Timmy and I arranged in the classic 69 position on the cold cement floor,
each cock held firmly inside the throat of the other by leather trucker
belts tight around the neck and waist of each.  The feel of a warm moist
mouth soon had both of our cocks hard and wedging deeper into the throat of
the other.  Not satisfied that this was enough restitution Mr. Spignotti
demanded that Brundt go slide down and start fucking the bruised and
battered hole of poor Timmy while Sarge was told to get behind my ass and
start pounding it.  Mr. Spignotti's reasoning was that since Sarge had
taken the cherry of Timmy's manhood, a slur against Whites, then Vinton was
somehow entitled to get pleasure from Sarge's actions.  Also since Vinton
had mocked Sarge with the "blackface" body paint as a slur against Blacks
Sarge should be able to pound my hole like Vinton and his goons had already
done.  No one asked Timmy or me what we wanted and we couldn't have said
with our mouths full of each other's cocks.

Both truckers immediately got into this new type of justice placing their
anger at the other upon the poor victim at the ends of their cocks.  Sarge
was the first to grab Timmy's head in his hands as he pounded my butt hole
forcing my cock deep into Timmy's mouth.  Vinton Brundt immediately saw
what was happening as he grabbed my head forcing Timmy's hard cock deep
down my throat.  I realized that both truckers were also fucking the hole
used by his enemy, that each man was indirectly getting pleasure from the
spent cum deposited by his enemy.  Mr. Spignotti's plan seemed to have some
logic.

Both truckers had powerful hatred in his eyes as he stared intently at the
other.  As the men fucked the asses given them by Mr. Spignotti they were
also forcing the hard cocks of their victims deep down the throats of the
other trucker slut.  Mr. Spignotti's logic was lost on most at first as it
appeared that he was punishing Timmy and me further for the abuse of the
top dogs in the ware house.

The sound of flesh slapping flesh, the groans of pain and the moans of
pleasure escaping from Timmy and I were mixed with the shouts and cheers of
the surrounding drunken truckers; just like the sounds during the Dodge
Ball and Bocce Ball contest.  But soon Mr. Spignotti's logic became
apparent in an almost Solomon-like fashion.  It became obvious that the
hatred of these two men were being redirected by Mr. Spignotti for
something more beneficial, for the harmony of the racial climate in the
Ware house.  As the pleasure built up in their cocks and balls the hatred
in both trucker's eyes mellowed somewhat and glazed over.  One could almost
imagine a kind of fondness growing between the men as their anger subsided
and their passions rose.  While still locked eye to eye both truckers
started dumping their loads into Timmy and me at the same time as we
unloaded into each others mouths.  The collective orgasm was so complete
and fulfilling that the racial anger at Spignotti and Sons was released, at
least temporarily.  The climaxes came just as the first shift warehouse
workers started arriving for their shift.

Timmy and I were both put to work servicing these new employee's needs.  I
was not able to get back to my room in the shed until a little after 9AM
but every man on the first shift started his day with a smile on his face
and a spring in his walk. After that day I never saw little Timmy again.
But the rumors were flying; some said he was "adopted" by one of the Black
truckers on the west coast as his co-driver and that he ended up being put
to work by him at truck stops, local bars in all Black neighborhoods and
even at every delivery he made if any brothers expressed an interest.
These rumors were mostly spread by the Black truckers while the White
truckers all said he left trucking and became a clerk in a factory in
Cleveland.  I guess we'll never know for sure.

Mr. Spignotti announced with pride in his voice.  "Get some sleep
sweetheart.  Tomorrow's Saturday and you've got your first date.  That's
right sweetie pie, I'm taking you out for a date tonight.  And you're gonna
really enjoy yourself too," as he broke into degrading laughter.  I heard
Sarge ask him snidely, "Gonna take the bitch to the Pleasure Trove are you
Boss?" as nasty snickers around me sent shivers down my spine even thought
I had no idea what the Pleasure Trove was...