The Brutal Trucker - No.14 - by Danhol900
Brutal Trucker Sex Chapter 14
Recap of Chapter 13 for context:
Looking down at his Trojan covered cock Mr. Spignotti coldly informed Sgt. Carter, "I'm not giving this bitch the fuckin pleasure of my ball juice this time; fuckin slimy bitch. I'm still too god damned pissed at the slut; fuckin balls to try to determine when and how I'd be using the cunt! Asswipe fuckin tried to stop me! Me!! he bellowed at full voice as I cringed in submissive horror on the floor still clutching my aching throat. "Fucking Bitch doesn't realize I own the slut, every fuckin hole and hair on its body. God Dammit, I'm still not done teaching this bitch a lesson but I see by the clock it's almost 6:30AM and I've got fuckin work to do. On tomorrow's shift you can do whatever the fuck you want with that mouth and throat Sergeant, but that slimy fuckin ass is mine. You got that Sergeant, fuckin mine?
A booming "Sir, Yes Sir echoed in the office.
"God Damn those fuckin bastards out there have been waiting long enough for a taste of bitch hole tonight , he continued cruelly, "toss Ëem the slut and give Ëem the rest of the shift.
Shit there's what, about thirty hard cocks and thirty minutes left in the shift? A minute a cock; just might be doable for this slut as I heard cheers from behind the glass.
Brutal Trucker Sex #14
Sgt. Carter harshly tore me from the desk top and half carried half dragged me to the office door. As I painfully tried to stand I realized just how much damage Mr. Spignotti had inflicted on my butt. I felt a slick liquid running down the inside of my trembling legs even with the condom he wore. This must have been my own pussy juices, secreted to protect my delicate internal lining from more devastating injury. Just standing up caused an incredible tingle around my pussy lips. In spite of all that pounding, the "bitch gel from Sgt. Carter's friend at the zoo was still broadcasting my continued need to be fucked.
Every step sent a shiver down my spin as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed from my super sensitive pussy hole directly to my brain. I would walk a single step and instinctively thrust my hips backwards.
Each step sent thrills through my body as internal convulsions and spasms coursed up and down my anal canal. My cock, no longer under the dominion of Mr. Spignotti, sprang to life instantly; achieving a healthy thick seven inches and dripping precum onto my swinging balls with each step. I must have looked ridiculous, like some kind of string puppet; torn between the demands of the strong black man forcing me towards the office door and the needs of my cunt to repeatedly be pounded into hamburger by hard trucker cock.
As Sgt. Carter threw the door open wide I was faced with a sea of intense, urgently horny, grimy and sweaty unshaven trucker faces. There was almost universal focus on my red painted tits and face and pussy lips as Sgt. Carter hesitated for a moment letting the tormented truckers, who had watched the entire evening's festivities, anguish a bit longer. He enjoyed displaying the power his position held over the men; that their pleasure was controlled by his strong will. Sgt. Carter made me stand straight (no easy task after the events of the evening so far) and slowly turn around so the men could get a good eyeful.
I was on display but their hard cocks and dripping precum told me they weren't here for a show. Each one wanted to gets their rocks off now or sooner if possible. Every pair of eyes went between my sweat covered body and Sgt. Carter's stern face; silently begging him to toss me their way. Every type of trucker was in the crowd; tall men, short men, thin and fat men, truckers with hairy or smooth bodies. There were muscular truckers, bald truckers, truckers with long hair, beards, goatees or moustaches, old and young, Black, White, Asian and Hispanic truckers.
The room was full of every kind of man you could imagine and they all had one very obvious thing in common. From between each pair of legs jutted a hard cock begging for relief. Sgt. Carter lingered there surveying the crowd deciding who would get first crack at me.
Suddenly I was flung about a third of the way to the right of center, directly into the outstretched arms of Madd-dog. I hadn't seen him in the crowd but he definitely saw me. I don't think it was a coincidence that Sgt. Carter, a proud strong black man, chose another strong black trucker to enjoy my holes first. A broad smile spread immediately across Madd-dog's face as he spat out, "Welcome home fucker. I sure been missing that pretty pink pussy o'yours. You got my big ole black meat just itching to tear you a new fuckin hole, right here in this sea of hard drippin trucker cock. Shit men, a fuckin third hole would sure as shit speed the process, cha think? to guttural laughter all around me.
Quickly I was turned around and bent over at the waist. Madd-dog viciously inserted his thick, greasy and calloused middle finger inside me in a single swift shove; like the way one would flip the bird at someone who pissed you off. My internal lining was so sensitive from Mr. Spignotti's relentless pounding that my raw nerve endings were firing little sparks inside me. In this super sensitive state I could feel every wrinkle and crevice of Madd-dog's finger. My lining clung so tightly to his inserted finger I could feel the cuticle of his finger nail and every knuckle. My ass canal muscles massages up and down Madd-dog's finger and it was clear to me he felt every spasm with a gleeful chuckle deep in his throat.
Thanks to Mr. Spignotti's relentless pounding I was going to feel every detail of every cock inside me tonight. I was going to feel every vein on Madd-dog's massive cock and my dick twitched at the thought as my pussy continued convulsing madly on his finger. Madd-dog sighed and said simply, "AHH FUCK that pussy feels good. Very nice of Mr. Spignotti to sensitize the bitch without sliming it up with his spooge, men. Shit this bitch is fuckin dancing all over my fuckin finger guys. God damned slut is in fuckin heat for my finger, bettcha the bitch will go crazy for a slab of Madd-dog meat, wouldn't you sweetheart? Hungry for my cock Bitch? he snarled as he twisted my head around staring intently into my face. Suddenly George Kincaid was at our side saying, "Don't take all day, fucker. Shit or get off the fuckin pot! We only got a few minutes and my balls are fuckin bursting from watching that god damned show all night. Madd-dog angrily spat back at George, "Fuck you man. Fuck that hairy white asshole of yours as snickers went around the room at that image.
With his middle finger still crammed inside me to the third knuckle I felt the humungous slick black head of Madd-dog's cock pressing against my sensitized pussy opening. The sensations were incredible as my hips instinctively thrust backward trying to impale myself on the black pole behind me. Madd-dog used his middle finger to keep me off his raging hard cock temporarily as I started to beg him for his cock.
I blurted out, "Please Madd-dog, please fuck me. I need it man. I need your beautiful hard cock inside me bad man. Pound me with it, please. Please fuck my... was all I got out. Suddenly a second black trucker, who I didn't know at the time but later found out was called Bouncer, sprang to the fore as my head was snapped downward by the strong arms of Madd-dog.
My words were crammed back down my throat along with the hard black cock of Bouncer. Simultaneously I was plugged with black cock in my throat and my cunt; balls deep for each. My red painted pussy lips stretched wide as Madd-dog used his inserted finger as a guide for his hard cock as the black monster was brutally shoved alongside his finger. You could almost hear the sounds of each black cock ripping into my battered body as a collective sigh of relief went out of every man there.
The horny truckers at both ends wasted no time as they immediately set to work of relieving their pent up ball juices. This was not the time for pretty words or foreplay. They had one thing on their minds, dumping their hot slimy ball juice into my hot slick holes as quickly as possible. Clearly I had a job to do and I single mindedly set to the task.
I heard Sgt. Carter call out from the door, "You fuckin bastards got thirty minutes of bitch time. Don't fuckin waste it and share nice, ya hear? And don't forget, Mr. Spignotti still wants to teach the cunt a lesson so don't spare the rod as a chuckle escaped his lips apparently he was the only one besides myself who got his little joke.
There was no need for encouragement; these black truckers were slamming their cocks in and out at furious speed, building to a steady crescendo almost immediately. The malevolent sounds of skin smacking painfully upon skin echoed throughout the high ceiling, open space of the ware house. It almost sounded like a boxing match as viscous wallops were met with grunts, rumbles and groans.
First to explode was Bouncer as his cock swelled, twitched and started spewing slimy trucker cum right down my throat. No games about tasting it or watching it slide down my throat. This bastard was out to get his nut, no fanfare or trumpets, just good "ole red, white and blue all Ëmerican throatin' as they say.
Bouncer kept his cock buried to the hilt as he pumped his balls dry and even before he was completely done I felt his cock ripped from my mouth like someone was jerking him free. The last spurts from his black cock landed on my chin, sliding to the floor with a SPLUNK sound.
In the few seconds I had with a free throat and a clear view I looked up and saw Sgt. Carter standing in the doorway unmoved. He had a broad smile on his face, an evil gleam in his eyes and most fearsome of all, that terrifying black "Pussy Pounder was fully hard again and drippin to beat the band. Shit that sadistic bastard had brutally throat fucked two me times already and it looked like he could do it again. Damn the stud was a fucking-machine, a god damned fucking-machine.
Bouncer was replaced by George's now familiar cock. It was obvious he was desperate to drain his balls as he immediately picked up Bouncer's pace. George's hairy low hanging balls swung wildly smacking me mercilessly around my chin and cheeks. The next trucker to nut was Madd-dog. All it seemed to take was the sight of George's cock forcing my red lips apart for Madd-dog to start into his rut frenzy culminating in my first load of trucker cum in my butt of the night. Madd-dog too was yanked free before completely finished as I felt his cum drizzle out my hole and down my blond peach fuzzed balls.
His cock was immediately replaced by another cock and the thrusting and pounding resumed. In this fashion I must have drained about ten sets of hairy trucker balls when I heard Sgt. Carter's booming sing song baritone declare, "Fifteen minutes left fuckers. No time for fun and games. Fuck the bitch and move the fuck out of the way . God I didn't know how I'd be able to relieve all these truckers and it didn't help that the first shift warehouse crews were punching in; attracted by the unmistakable sounds of nut-bustin nut-ruttin fucking taking place just in front of the Shift Supervisor's office.
The truckers were as desperate as me to get their nut and a kind of altruism descended upon these typically fiercely independent hardened individualists. Guys who were waiting on line or who already has drained their own balls were giving handjobs to those waiting for service.
This way the men were right on the verge of cuming so a minimum of fuss and muss were required to dump their hot slimy ball loads in my holes. Essentially, one trucker would finish shooting his load of slimy goo inside me and the next immediately took his place. We became a well oiled fuck-machine with the sole objective of getting as much trucker slime inside me in the limited time allotted. You sure as shit can't argue with these aspirations; a fuckin good game plan as far as I was concerned. Not that I could argue much of anything with my mouth constantly full of trucker cock and oozing trucker cum.
This total efficiency continued for a few more minutes when Sgt. Carter bellowed, "Five fuckin minutes scum. You got five minutes to nut and the bitch goes away. It's now or never, fuckers. Now or fuckin never! as cruel sadistic laughter roared from him.
Well as you can probably imagine all hell broke loose with this latest announcement. Truckers were so desperate they were talking their buddies into giving them blow jobs or jerking them off. No one was immune, not even those who were dicking me at the moment. There were several strong virile truckers who roared in anger as their own asses were stuffed with fellow trucker cock while vulnerably bent over me pounding my own ass. Now as you can imagine, these were all totally straight truckers with wives and maybe girlfriends waiting at home. They were only using my holes as a way to get off and drain their balls on the long absences while on the road. They probably didn't even think of dicking me as cheating since I was nothing but a slimy hole to drop their load into before hitting the road. I was taken completely by the idea that one trucker would fuck another but the dynamics of the situation had changed.
Guys were desperate for relief and willing to plug any hole available. This sure did make the fucker inside my cunt shoot sooner, the pounding on his prostate gland set him off faster than a whole series of punch fucks to my hole and with a hell of a lot more force behind each shot. Once he started shooting he'd be viscously ripped free to make room for the next.
In the five minutes that remained it became a joint effort as all truckers helped relieve the pressure for other truckers. The sounds, sights and smells were amazing as cocks exploded one after another.
Shit, you could cut the testosterone with a fuckin knife. Despite all this, only about three quarters of the hard cocks got their desired relief before Sarge bellowed for the final time of the evening, "Times up shitheads. Fuckin bitch time is over.
Show starts again tonight at eleven. Third shift is now over! With that Sgt. Carter reached down into the pile of about six or seven truckers, all humping furiously into and onto me and each other in a last desperate attempt at relief. He simply grabbed my hair and lifted me from under the thrashing truckers as spooge and slime oozed from each of my holes. My pink rose panties were drenched in trucker spunk. Sgt. Carter then threw me my lavender overalls and marched me slowly under Army cadence through the warehouse, front office and back to my own shed. I was not given the chance to clean up or even put on any clothes. I was completely embarrassed and humiliated as every employee of Spignotti and Sons Distribution Center saw for themselves the new warehouse bitch. By the smirks and bulges I saw on the many hunky office employees I knew I'd be servicing both the truckers who delivered to the third shift and the early office arrivals for the workday. When I saw my reflection in a glass plate window I saw I made quite an impression, with my red lips and tits, pink rose panties, ruffled blond hair and being coated from head to toe in trucker spooge. My unsteady, slightly bent over gait surely confirmed my activities of the evening.
I was marched past warehouse workers in overalls, truckers in jeans and flannel, front office secretaries all prim and proper and front office executives and salesmen in fine executive suits and ties.
Sarge even created a brand new marching song just for me as his strong clear army sing song voice sang out, "This morning I be diggin ditch. Ëfore that I be dickin bitch. Sound off, one two! Sound off three four! as laughter erupted from his strong black face.
Sarge made me repeat these humiliating rhymes as I was ceremoniously marched back to my private shed. Each staff person at Spignotti and Sons saw me as a perverted slut who lived for nothing more than servicing hard trucker cock. It was then I realized that Mr. Spignotti was a business genius, not only was he going to have a full third shift of trucker clients to hide whatever "special delivery merchandise with the South American connection was discussed under the table of the board room; he was guaranteeing maximum work hours and efficiency from his loyal crew of the first shift and office staff as well. I was being used for more than just a fuck hole by Mr. Spignotti; I was lining his pockets (in some way still unclear to me) as well as draining his hairy low hanging Italian balls.
By the end of my embarrassing "bitch march back to my shed I was broken and humiliated, having endured the most degrading experiences; publicly exposed for all to see.
Surprisingly my dick stayed hard throughout the entire march as if it was proud of the trucker's pussy bitch I'd become. Sgt. Carter whipped open the door, threw me roughly inside the shed and warned ominously, "Remember slut, Mr. Spignotti plans on continuing his lesson tonight. I've seen that sadistic bastard at the Trove work over three guys at once. Shit, you're fuckin in for quite an exciting time on tonight's shift. A god damned fuckin exciting time tonight.
Shithead he sighed mightily, stroking his thick black cock while staring me directly in the eyes, "I might just have to give the recruits back on base a break from my own pestering today.
Give ole Pounder a chance to save up for tonight. Naw he declared with certainty, "take more than one fuckin bitch hole to drain these god-damned virile fuckin battle hardened ole army issued balls; more than one fuckin bitch hole.. he howled, zipping his cock away inside his uniform and closing and to my surprise locking the door behind him.
End of Chapter #14, End of my first day of the job at Spignotti and Sons.
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