Oberführer Turned My Life Around Ch. 02byCoxswain©
Oberführer Von Teuer was fucking the hell out of me. I was past caring. I secretly hoped he had a long time before reaching his orgasm, but he lasted only another 20 minutes or so. Through all that hard slogging, he kept me in the longest afterglow of my life, drawing out my climax and ejaculations so long my balls hurt. When I heard him let out a long, low moan, my gut was so alive and sensitive, I could actually feel the hot jets of his semen shooting up in me.
I had to face it. Couldn't deny it: I liked it. He's breeding me. Impregnating me with his little Nazis. That pushed me over the edge again, and once more I shot a gush of jizz onto the sheet.
I was so fucking exhausted, I fell forward, collapsing on my belly, feeling the smush of landing in a big pool of my own slime. I fought to catch my breath and turned my head to look back at him. I frankly expected him to fall on me in exhaustion himself, but Von Teuer, breathing hard, athletically pushed up from me, and stood up.
Damn, what a man! Not tired a bit!
As he arose, his manhood pulled out of me with a spluttering pop -- a quickie jolt of pleasure that caused another spurt from my dick. Then a warm globule trickled from my ass. His sperm. I'm leaking a man's cum from my ass!
Slowly, achingly, I rolled over. Von Teuer reached down to pull his pants up from his boot-tops, and as I watched in admiration -- No, NOT in admiration! I'm not admiring him!! -- an intense afterglow spread over me. God, that felt good!
Look at that awesome thing! It tamed me. Got to me. That big cock is a wonder!
I couldn't fight it -- my perspective had changed. Damn, it's handsome. Look at the head slide back into the foreskin. A mystery again. A wonderful thing. Symbol of power.
I shook my head in desperation. Stop! These are sick thoughts!
When Von Teuer had his uniform on again, he gave me a haughty look, then walked out.
I looked around. Every one of my guards had a giant, throbbing hardon. They're beautiful. I never realized before how truly handsome is the body of a man. And his cock. It's natural. Every man has one. Why hide it?
One of the guards stepped up to me. "Wohlen Sie?"
I didn't know his name, but I had been admiring him for days. He was big but the shortest of my guards -- he stood only slightly over 5 feet (must've slipped through the SS recruiting screeners) -- but he weighed a good 175 pounds. He had an oval, handsome face, brown eyes under slender brown eyebrows, and a hawk-like nose.
And after what had just happened to me, I couldn't keep my eyes off his weapon. Yeah! It jutted out a good eight or nine inches from a fine dusting of brown pubic hair. Contoured and bumpy, it was the sort of thing I had learned to appreciate very well.
Hey, it's done. I've been fucked. I can't sink any deeper. "Ja, Hans, c'mon." He watched me with a grin as I spread my legs and lifted them up into the air for him. He crawled onto the bed, and I surrendered, giving up without a fight. I thirsted for it. I had just had the breeding of my life, and I craved more.
He knelt between my upraised legs and slathered his cockhead with a smear of the colonel's jizz that oozed from my ass. He pressed his cockhead against my clenched ass-ring and shoved through. My god! No pain! I loved it! He slid in like a welcome visitor.
I grunted a husky encouragement as he shoved against my prostate, and he smiled grimly. I loved it. Suddenly my favorite part was the stretching and little pain/pleasures as he worked his cockhead inside me.
A well-trained soldier, he held it there steady once he was inside, politely letting me adjust to his size, but I was on fire. "No, fuck me! Now! Do it!"
He shoved in a few more inches. "C'mon, c'mon! Give it to me! Ram it in!!"
Yeeowtch!! Well, I asked for it. The horny fucker slammed into me up to his balls.
Then he impaled me in short, deep, violent strokes, driving into me with passion, jamming in deep. His eyes stared into mine, and I suddenly recognized the same authority, power, and ownership I saw in Von Teuer's eyes. It's true. I'm their bitch.
With that conclusion, I dropped my head back and closed my eyes in bliss -- the magnificent German soldier had fucked me into my second orgasm generated completely by another man -- no hand action from me. I writhed and twisted under his thrusting lunges, my mind buzzing with wonder and excitement that this bastard, this Nazi, this enemy could drive me to such passion and rapture. I let out a long, loud groan as I spurted my jizz all over my chest and belly, striking his belly with a few of the higher shots.
"Ja, du bist mein Weibchen. His voice was a low growl.
He's right. I am his bitch.
As his length continued to pull out and push back in, I floated on what I had come to recognize as the post-orgasmic high a man could keep me in for as long as he balled me. God, it was wonderful!
I began to think like a bitch. As his cock slid back and forth, I clenched at it with my asshole, encouraging him, raising his level of excitement.
The big soldier sticking it to me craved my hot butt, but he had already brought me to the peak and was continuing to give me mini-peaks, keeping me in at Level-98 of heaven while still clawing his way to his first climax. God. Being fucked was a greater thrill than fucking
The big stud slaved away in a frenzy to reach his orgasm, all the while keeping me floating on his efforts and sweat, bobbing on the ocean of pleasure, nearly passing out on the 98% orgasm-level his fucking generated in me.
I gave him some "helps." I crossed my legs over his back, and that gave him a thrill. "Ach, ja," he grunted, "ich hab' dich schon!"
No, my friend, you don't have me. I have you. Still floating in the fervor of his thrusts, I watched as if from heaven above as the poor man let out a groan and ejaculated his German man-juice into my ass.
Every one of my guards fucked me. I let them. I enjoyed them. I found out that a horny bitch who gets his climax as fast as he can is then in control, in command of the poor slave desperately clawing toward his own climax.
I learned early that the guards had been instructed not to share any information whatsoever with me. Not even their names. But when I saw the guard's eyes dilate in the passion of an approaching orgasm, I gasped, "Du hast mich! Ich bin dein Weiblichen! Wer hat mich so erobert?"-- You got me! I'm your bitch! Who has conquered me?
"Joseph Erfurt ist Ihre Eigentümer!"
Oh, yeah? Joseph Erfurt is my owner, huh? "Und was ist Ihr Rang, Meister?" And what is your rank, Master?
"Ich bin Feldwebel in der grosser Deutscher Wehrmacht!"
You're a sergeant in the great German army, huh? Interesting.
Sergeant Erfurt fucked away and finally reached his orgasm, and I turned the tables. "Sagen Sie es! Bin ich nicht das heieste Geschlecht, das Sie je gehabt haben?"-- Say it! Am I not the hottest sex you've ever had?
His sperm gushed up through my guts. "Ja," he gasped, out of breath. "Ach, ja!"
With each of the other guards who lined up to fuck my ass, I went through the same procedure. When a man's climax is sweeping over him, his thought processes freeze, and he's powerless to resist. As they wallowed in the sexual rapture of their efforts, and whispering in their ears as they climaxed, I learned that Private Bayer was from Stuttgart, Private Schmidt wanted a career in the SS, and -- I'll be damned -- Corporal Ungefär was temporary at Schloss MännerTor, waiting to join the Intelligence Section!
Late that night, when my satisfied guards were snoring, I lay awake. Life for me at Schloss MännerTor had become an unending homosexual orgy -- with one difference. I noted that none of the Germans ever invited me to screw them. I was always the passive partner. My rear end was always the port of choice. They would jack me off and give me blowjobs, but the only ass walking around sloshing a load of another man's sperm was mine.
That bothered me. It insulted me. Made me feel like less of a man.
But every time one of those mammoth fuckers pushed me up against a wall, and I felt a big Deutscher Schwanz knocking at my back door, the craving started, and I eagerly wriggled my bum for him, helping him to find the target. I always felt my eyes rolling back in my head with bliss as another big cockhead stretched open my asshole and stabbed into my tunnel of bliss.
The more I got fucked, the more I needed it until finally all I wanted was to feel a man reaming me out. I forgot about getting a blowjob or feeling a man's hand on my dong. All I hungered for was to feel a man mounting me -- and if another fed me a big, manly crank to suck on at the same time, so much the better.
I was long since getting impaled by the uniformed soldiers. Mansex for me was no longer a matter of the nude men surrounding me. Whenever I went to the mess hall, my first act was to lie back on one of the tables and raise my legs for whoever wanted a piece of my ass. At every meal I serviced a good seven or more men.
Every morning in the showers I took another 10 or 11.
With the unceasing attentions of my guards, my buttocks leaked a never-ending stream of ball-juice. In those days I walked around with jizz constantly running down my legs, leaving sperm footprints on the tile floor. I lived in a permanent state of lust-drunk arousal.
That's why I was astonished one morning to wake up and find myself alone. My guards were gone.
I got up and went to the door. No one was around. My prick swinging back and forth, I ran down the hall, looking for anybody.
Privat Bayer walked around the corner. Fully dressed in his uniform. "Please get your towel and come for the showers, Herr General."
"What? No, let's . . . let's mach bumsen!" I reached out to unbuckle Bayer's belt, but he slapped my hand away and shoved me back violently.
"Get now the towel," he shouted. Around the corner behind him strode the other five of my guards. All dressed in uniform.
Confused, I walked back to the room and got my towel. Back out in the hallway, they ordered me to put the towel around my hips, and they marched me to the shower room.
There things were even more surreal. On that day, every one of the big, muscular men around me had a full-on, steel-hard, throbbing erection, but when I tried to touch one, I got a slap. When I leaned against the wall and reached back to spread my cheeks, no one paid any attention. When I sank to my knees and tried to take one of the big, inhuman dongs into my mouth, I got a swat to the side of the head that knocked me over.
When I finally stumbled from the shower, I was bruised and shaken. The guards marched me back to my room, where a nurse stood with a pile of clothes. "Please to get yourself dressed, Herr General," she said, handing me the pile.
She turned on her heel and walked away without another word, leaving me astounded. Clothes? After all these weeks?
Confused, I walked back to the room and began to put on the clothes. It was an American Army uniform -- probably captured, maybe from a dead soldier -- all rank insignia and nametags were gone. It was my size, though, or so I thought.
After so many weeks of day-and-night nudity, the clothing was very uncomfortable. Like a straitjacket all over my body. The boxer shorts around my hips held my cock in place -- very unnatural -- and I felt like I couldn't breathe! What has happened to me??
The clothes were not tight. They fit me perfectly. But I felt trapped in them, strangled, imprisoned. God, I hate to wear clothes!
The guards did not enter my room. They waited outside. When I came out, they escorted me to the mess hall. Every time I tried to grope one of them, he slapped my hand away.
When we entered the mess hall, I dropped my pants and lay back on one of the tables, but before I could raise my legs for any prospective fucker, a soldier shoved me off the table! As I picked myself up, he ordered me to pull my pants up and -- I couldn't believe my ears -- "Seien Sie anständig!"
What? Be decent??
I was dumbfounded. My sex life had come to a screeching, door-slamming halt. Being cut off like that really did feel like my dick had been cut off. Wearing clothes? I felt itchy and hot all day long. I got an aching case of blue-balls after only two days.
The guards would not allow jacking off even in the privacy of my room -- they had moved back in but fully dressed, stripping naked only when turning in to sleep, flaunting their big, throbbing hard cocks before me, but not masturbating themselves -- and worse, not allowing me to, either.
I lay in bed staring at their delicious male bodies, aching for them. Every time they spotted my hand creep into my crotch, I got a reprimand. "Seien Sie so unverschämt nicht!" Do not be so rude. Yeah, right.
A few days went by like this, and I was getting desperate. A wet dream! If only I could have a wet dream to let off some of this pressure! But I didn't. I was crawling across a burning Sahara of sexual abstinence. I got so horny the guards had to watch me at all times to keep me from flogging myself to blessed relief.
How does the saying go? "When the need is greatest, the master will appear"? When I was on the verge of committing suicide, the Devil himself walked through my door. Von Teuer stood before me in the most beautifully tailored uniform I ever saw. While still fully recognizable as an SS uniform, it fit him perfectly, carefully formed over his muscular chest, drawing in over his taut belly, tight against his hips, and -- damn! -- the bulge in his pants was hidden by the cloth of his tunic-coat, but beneath it I could see the bottom side of a hefty bulge. Oh, god, I hope you're here to ball me!!
He unbuttoned his tunic, pulling it open to show me his chest. Immediately I had a flashback to the first time I met him. Look at that chest. Manly golden hair. Powerful. Commanding.
"Get up, Pussi-boy, and lick my chest."
I jumped up from the bed and ran to bend my face down to lick him. Oh, yeah! Salty. Sweaty. A man! I licked across his chest, through that sweaty, golden hair, licking eagerly over each of his nipples, and as he shrugged off his tunic, I licked into his armpits, inhaling his manly musk, licking up his tangy essence.
I heard the click of his belt buckle. Yes, oh, yes! I looked down as he pulled open his riding breeches, and I dropped to my knees, pawing feverishly at his fly, pulling it open, diving in to open his underwear -- Ohmigod, he's wearing a jockstrap! I love jockstraps! I noted his suspensorium was not a German brand but a genuine American Bike!
Almost swooning with lust, I inhaled deeply, savoring the heady scent of a man's crotch, then I licked the mesh pouch of his supporter lovingly. The taste! I love the taste of spunk and piss and sweat and whatever else has soaked this big man's jockstrap! Then, when literally drunk from sucking his crotch-liquor through his jock, I pulled aside the pouch, and there it was.
Magnificent. Soft. In repose like the king asleep.
Like handling a national treasure, I hefted out the heavy thing, a cock that could still make me gape in wonder. Damn, still soft, it was at least 10", and it had to be three inches wide. I moaned, and I felt a spurt of pre-cum gush into my underwear. Von Teuer's foreskin ended in that familiar twist of skin.
I licked my lips. Pulling back gently, I slid it back, revealing the Power inside like rolling back the drapery hiding the museum's prize statue. I gasped (and spurted precum again) as his cockhead appeared, shiny and slimy with his foreskin juice, a big, broad, blunt knob that glowed a hot red, dotted with white bits of smegma. His piss-hole was deep and black, a hypnotic eye taking power over me. I could not tear my gaze away from it. I heard its commands. I was its slave. I bowed my head.
Von Teuer knocked my head away. "Not so fast, Pussi-boy, not so fast." He stood up and shucked down his pants and the jockstrap, leaving them bunched at his boot-tops. He had already dropped his tunic onto the chair's back. Sitting in the chair once more, he raised his foot to me. "Pull off my boots, Pussi-boy."
Eager, panting, I grabbed the shiny black boot and tugged, pulling until it slid from his leg. Then I removed the other one. Von Teuer stood up once more and stepped out of his breeches and supporter. He was naked.
My heart pounded so hard, I'm sure he could hear it.
"You like to look at me, don't you, Pussi-boy?"
I nodded, breathless.
"Yes, yes, I love to look at your body. You're beautiful, Colonel!"
"So lick my balls."
I dropped to my knees, and worshipfully stuck out my tongue to lave the big, wrinkled sac that held his masculine power. God, it's hot! His ball-sac burns my tongue! I was so goddamned horny I could not stop myself. I opened my mouth and sucked in his testicles. Oh, they were big. Big and manly. A mouthful to suck them both. I let one escape while I paid careful, loving attention to its brother. My pecker sputtered precum into my underwear in a constant stream.
"You want to suck my cock, do you, Pussi-boy?"
I backed off his scrotum. "Yeah." My voice was so husky I could hardly understand myself. "Lemme suck that big thing!"
"Then we must do the -- how you say -- 'tit for tat.'" He smiled. "Or in this case, 'cock for tat.'" The smile left his face. "The 'tat' I want from you is information on the troop strength you have gathering in England to attack the Reich!"
"I -- I don't know anything about that! I'm not General Phillips! I'm a medic!"
Von Teuer stepped back from me. "Still with the false persona, do you?" He reached down, grasped his big cock and waved it at me. "I see you must cook a little more."
With that, he gathered up his clothes and boots and walked out of the room.
I was devastated! Abandoned! I wanted to suck a cock so bad, I yanked down my pants and leaped onto my bed, raising my legs up till my knees were beside my head. I could barely reach my own manhood with my tongue, and I was straining to get some of it into my mouth when the door opened, and the guards came striding back in.
"Ach, nein, Pussi-boy, keine Masturbation für dich!" They grabbed my legs and unwound me. I lay on my bed, panting.
So now it's "Pussi-boy"? No more "Herr General"? My humiliation was complete. I was no longer an honored prisoner of war. I was a bitch, a cock-hole to them. God forgive me, I didn't care. Not then. I wanted somebody to fuck me or at least let me suck a big man's cock!!
I went through two more days of hell. My balls ached. I strained to give myself a wet dream, but I never quite succeeded. I pondered every second of Von Teuer's last visit, remembering his magnificent cock, focusing closely on the texture of the great shaft -- those thick, knobby veins, the folds of foreskin, the velvety skin, all of which sent vibrations of unspeakable pleasure through my asshole and out into my whole body.
A wave of shame washed over me. He has taken away my manhood. All I want is to be his bitch, his meat-hole, his cum-bucket. And I was afraid. Afraid that when next I saw him I would throw myself at his feet, begging him to take me as his slave. I would renounce everything. Everything! Just let me feel that big cock reaming me out again!
Fate called my bluff the very next morning. Von Teuer came into my room again. Before I could say anything, though, he looked at me grimly. "Pussi-boy, now it does not matter if you are General Phillips or whoever else you wish to be. We wanted to know what you could tell us about the Allied attack on Fortress Europas, but unfortunately we waited too long. Your countrymen with the Englanders have invaded France now two days ago."