Date: Tue, 4 Apr 2006 16:55:30 EDT
From: Danhol900@aol.com
Subject: Brutal Trucker Sex 6

There I was spread out on the small table in the Trucker's Lounge enduring
the second part of my job interview at the Spignotti and Sons Distribution
Center.  That sadistic trucker George Kincaid was pounding my butt hole raw
using No-Slip powder for "traction".  After a slow and agonizing start
George had worked himself up to full speed, ignoring (actually enjoying) my
pleas to stop.  Just when I didn't think I could stand any more pain,
Madd-dog grabbed my head and bent it forcefully back to give his
monstrously thick, slick and long black pole total access to my throat.
His purple head filled my mouth to capacity and I knew from taking that
gigantic ramrod up my butt in the woods there was a hell of a lot more to
come.  With Madd-dog's cock head in my mouth I hoped against hope he'd be
satisfied with a vigorous tongue job.  My tongue was just able to swirl
around over the crest of the purple dick head and I knew he was enjoying
the sensation as pre-cum oozed from his piss slit and ran over my tongue
and down my throat.  Madd-dog spat out for the men around us, "Fuck yeah,
you horny bastards, this slut is so hungry for my cock he can't wait, Ahh
Fuck, he's licking my head like it's a fucking lollipop, aint cha
sweetheart?" The men loved to hear it and all I could do was try to mumble
an affirmative.  Clearly Madd-dog hadn't seen a shower for days, probably
like every other truckers in the room, and his cock reeked of sweat, piss
and cum.  Instead of being repulsed I found myself loving the smell and
taste of his cock as he worked the head deeper and deeper into my mouth.

I heard the distinct click and whirl of a Polaroid camera and imagined my
continual degradation as photos of my brutal trucker gang-rape were passed
around between truckers across the country and in every truck stop and
greasy spoon for horny truckers' enjoyment and amusement.  I even imagined
Mr. Spignotti having these truckers pass the photos to their buddies to get
them to start delivering to Spignotti and Sons during my work shift with
the promise of some of this for themselves.  I tried to imagine what the
photos would look like, with the hulking hairy frame of Kincaid straddling
my upturned ass, plowing deep and hard, the remnants of the powder covering
his cock and my ass and with the jet black frame of Madd-dog positioned at
my upside down head, with just his cock head in so far but the remaining 9"
or so of thick black shaft poised to slam home.

I knew from my experience in the woods that Madd-dog had one of those cocks
where the head was about the size of a nectarine and the shaft got
progressively thicker towards the base.  All told it was at least 11" long
and 4" across at the base.  This made for an excruciating fuck but an
inhumane throat rape.  No throat could stretch that far without real damage
and Madd-dog was enjoying the feeling of my mouth too much to give a shit
about how much he was going to hurt me.  For him in his testosterone-horned
up state I was just a fuck hole for his cock and a receptacle for his
trucker cum.

"You're gonna throat rape the fucker, aint cha Madd-dog?  I bet the bitch
can't take it, man."  It was the voice of the skinny dead-eyed sadist
Blackmore.  Madd-dog just laughed and assured the group, "Watch and learn,
fuckers.  This fucking whore has more talents then we can even imagine, but
I bet a few weeks on the job with bring them to light, don't you think
Boss?", to laughter and agreement all around.  I imagined Mr. Spignotti,
sitting in the corner in his fine silk suit silently agreeing with
Madd-dog's prediction.

All the time Kincaid was brutally dry humping my hole, causing unbearable
agony, the pain never let up. It only intensified as each stroke caused
more damage and more bruising to my butt hole fuck tube.  The horny
truckers around us were encouraging my double rapists saying things like,
"Harder George", "Plow the fuckhole", "to the hilt Madd-dog", "fuck the
shit out of the bitch" and "give the fucker a night he'll remember".  To
try to prevent my gag reflex with Madd-dog's cock filling my mouth I was
desperately trying to breath through my nose to get air in my lungs.
Madd-dog was enjoying my struggles and seemed to sense my fear of what
everyone knew was coming.  George meanwhile kept up his brutal assault on
my butt, pounding me with all his might in order to cause me as much pain
as he could before he succumbed to the inevitable and dropped his slimy
searing load inside my upturned asshole.

When I least expected it, Madd-dog grabbed my throat and brutally started
his drive home.  At first my throat muscles fought the invasion,
struggling, clutching, employing millennia-old defenses and survival
mechanisms of convulsions, spasms and gagging in order to expel the massive
black invader.  Unfortunately my muscles were no match for Madd-dog's
strength.  With the first plunge Madd-dog had 5 inches buried in my mouth.
I felt his massive head tear open my throat with no effort on his part.
Almost instantaneously he plunged further so that now at least 9 inches
were buried and with the final plunge I felt his massive, hairy black bull
balls resting on my upside down nose and covering my eyes as I
instinctively struggled for air.  The pain of the brutal invasion was
overwhelming and my whole body seemed to respond as if I'd been kicked by a
mule.  My arms tried to flail aimlessly and would have; had they not been
held firmly by waiting truckers.  My head jerked this way and that trying
unsuccessfully to expel the throbbing slab of Black trucker meat lodged in
my throat.  I jerked my body half way off the table trying to expel
Madd-dog and almost threw George off in the process.  Madd-dog held firmly
to my head enjoying the sensation of my struggles along the entire length
of his dick.  It felt like I'd struggled for about 4 minutes and as I was
running out of air Madd-dog mercifully retreated from my throat, causing
unbearable pain, tearing my throat lining with his cock and releasing a
flood of mucous and saliva in the process.

I heard Kincaid say, "Shit man, do that again and I'll be dumping a load
sooner then I'd hoped.  This fucking cunt is dancing all over my cock with
all the fucking struggling Madd-dog.  I'm so fucking close, man, I could
cum anytime."  To which I heard Freightliner reply, "Fuck you Kincaid,
you've been bitch-hogging for an hour now, it's about time we all had some
fun."  Madd-dog just grunted, "Fucking right asshole" and he plunged in yet
again, in one shove this time, to my valiant but unsuccessful struggles to
escape.

Madd-dog immediately and commandingly took control of the situation.  I
became a double ended fuck tube for both sadistic truckers and Madd-dog
knew just how much pain to cause for my spasms and convulsions to give
extra pleasure to his and his buddy George's cocks.  Kincaid must have been
working up quite a sweat since I could feel his sweat dropping on my chest
and puddling down my abdomen.  Madd-dog was using my struggling to keep
George on the verge, but just short, of dumping his load and I imagined the
look in Madd-dog's eyes knowing that he had total control of the situation.
Clearly there was a strong and brutal rivalry there that went way back.  It
was like Madd-dog was fucking George's cock using my body.  When it felt
like Kincaid was about to pop, Madd-dog would back off my throat just
enough.  Kincaid was getting desperate to cum and Madd-dog knew it saying,
"You've kept us waiting fucker, now you'll wait for me."  To which I heard
many truckers around us saying, "Fucking right, Kincaid", and "keep the
bastard on the edge Madd-dog".

Then, a totally surprising thing happened, Madd-dog plunged his massive
cock to the hilt and held me there till I was turning blue then he ripped
his cock from my throat and straddled my face with those sweat covered
black butt muscles and as I was gasping for air to fill my lungs Madd-dog
let rip a wet, sloppy fart, loud enough for everyone to hear.  The smell
was disgusting but I desperately needed the air.  My cock twitched and got
even harder because of this new degradation.  Then Madd-dog positioned my
gasping mouth over his unwashed trucker asshole and shouted to me, and
everyone around us, "Shit yeah fucker, eat my fucking black asshole, chow
down on my black ass.  Yeah, fuck yeah that feels so fucking good.  Stick
that tongue up there faggot, eat my filthy shit hole you slut, you filthy
slut eat it".  Kincaid was left to balance on the verge of relief as my
attention was diverted to pleasuring Madd-dog's slimy, greasy shit covered
hole.  My cock was so hard I was on the verge of cumming myself, only my
rapt attention to Madd-dog's slick hole kept me from cumming, but like
George a few strokes on my cock would have sent me over the edge.

Finally, in order to bring Kincaid off, Madd-dog thrust the still
saliva-covered Black monster full force down my throat and held me there,
as my involuntary struggles were enough to bring George over the edge.  I
felt the muscular white trucker, thrust and stiffen above me as he let out
a guttural series of grunts and a moans and shouted, "Fuckin' yeah, fuckin'
take my load you bitch, take my fucking trucker seed in your cunt.  I know
you've been wanting it, take it all, scumbag".  Finally, the sadistic
bastard collapsed like a wet dishrag in exhaustion as Madd-dog painfully
ripped his black monster from my throat.  There was a gleam of conquest and
sadistic joy in Madd-dog's eyes, yet he still had that raging hardon for me
to satisfy.

The horny truckers around us then made me stand and bend over the table
with my sweat-stained belly resting on it.  Freightliner took a roll of
Duct Tape and secured my hands and feet to each leg of the table.  George
regained his composure and his breath enough to announce, "you know the
rule, faggot, always clean up your messes.  But first, Mr. Spignotti likes
to keep track of these things, don't you Sir.  DW, go over and get me that
big black marker on the shelf".  Then Kincaid made a single hash mark on my
left butt cheek saying, "that's one men, who's up for number two?"  I was
concerned as Madd-dog and Kincaid switched positions, Kincaid's cock was
still hard and covered with a gritty slimy paste that had a consistency
somewhere between toothpaste and raw eggs.  The No-Slip powder had gelled
to a creamy consistency with a chemical taste that was hard to get entirely
off Georges cock with my tongue and throat muscles but I did my very best
trying to clean the softening cock.  I sure as shit didn't want a
pissed-off trucker in this crowd.  My mouth quickly became coated with the
slimy mess and I knew the next trucker in was going to tear up my throat
with the grit.  I was even more horrified as I felt Madd-dog putting fresh
No-Slip powder on his own gigantic black cock knowing I was in for even a
worse time from the black cock of this sadistic trucker.

The rest of the night was a blur.  I became a total fuck tube for the rest
of the truckers as they lined up and drove their hard cocks inside me for
release of their pent up fuck juices.  I learned to control my spasms to
give them as much pleasure as I could.  I fell into a type of trance but
occasionally I'd hear things like, "That's number 4", "7th down the throat"
or "I'm fucking lucky number 13 ya fuckers" and so on throughout the night.

I had drifted into a shallow sleep and when I sensed that the truckers had
spent themselves I heard Mr. Spignotti get up, still dressed in his fine
silk suit and stroll over to the table, pick my head up and slap me to wake
me up saying, "You've done pretty well on the second part of the interview
kid, now its my turn and I'm not easy like these fuckers here have been",
an evil grin crossed his face.


End of Chapter #6 Write if you're enjoying the story so far.

Danhol900@aol.com