A Short Story of Love and Despair Part 01 by insideo

Hank was the biggest pig I’d ever met. He looked good, was a giant of a man, African-American, pitch black and blessed with a voice that made my pussy leak immediately. He had this deep negro timbre, with bright white teeth, and he grinned all the time, which drove me crazy. I was studying in Frankfurt and he was a soldier in the US Army. And after a while, I really fell for him, and he knew it.

Hank had never fucked me, even though I begged him to. No man had ever abstained from sex when I was sending him clear signals. And I liked being fucked. More than liked to be fucked, I liked to be adored and invited and taken out and given presents. To get to the hole, men like to make themselves small and slobbering. I knew how to take advantage of that. Besides, I’m good-looking, some even say rat sharp. I am the blond, tall Nordic type with a wide pelvis and a good front. Nevertheless, my waist is slim and thanks to sports and yoga I don’t have a gram too much.

As a pubescent I suffered from my luscious breasts until I noticed how horny they made the men. Besides the holes, it’s the tits that men like most: touching, licking, sucking off. As soon as my bra was gone, the men literally buried themselves in my udders. Now and then I had nothing against a titty fuck, and when the cocks started to cum in front of my face, I opened my mouth and swallowed. Men love that and that makes them dependent.

Not that I kept accounts, but I had already been through all the men: the younger and the older ones, as well as the very, very young and the really old ones. The fat ones, the thin ones, the lean ones, the really fat ones, the machos, the intellectuals, the big and small dicks, the good bucks, the complicated talkers and of course those with money. I knew them all. Only one real negro was missing from my fuck portfolio and I was keen on Hank and his cock. He laughed at me when I begged him, and once I complained loudly, blamed him, and we argued, he smacked me in the face.

“Maybe I’ll fuck you if you’re good enough. Prove it to me.”

I was stunned. No man had ever hit me before. But all right, let’s play the game, I thought. “What am I gonna do?”

“My friends might take a liking to you. But watch out: they’re all blacks, niggas, and they’re soldiers who are hungry and ruthless!”

“You mean fuck your friends?”

He grinned again the wide grin and his white teeth bared. “Right! Suck, fuck, swallow, that’s what we niggas like!”

So we met with his “friends” in dark bars, where almost only black soldiers frequented. He knew most of them and so he introduced me to dozens of his comrades. As his girlfriend. Then he stuck his tongue down my throat and touched my breasts. Usually one sentence or sign from him was enough to signal to his comrades that they too could have a go. And nobody refused.

I liked being touched by strange men. Mostly I only wore a short tight top and my nipples were hard. It wasn’t fine hands that touched me. It was paws. Black paws that kneaded my tits and put their tongues in my mouth at the signal from Hank. Then I looked at Hank triumphantly and let the strangers go. At some point I sucked their cocks then on the toilet or under the table, in summer also outside at the beer benches or at the Mainwiesen. None of the names I still remember, but I still have their smell in my nose.

Blacks smell and taste completely different than whites. Their sweat is sour, their skin tastes a bit rancid and their cocks exude this peculiar mixture of piss and sweat, which tastes much rougher and more animalistic than white people’s. At first I was only known among his friends for kissing everyone deeply with my tongue, letting them lick me and suck every cock off until cumshot. At some point I started craving their cocks deep in my holes and I hoped that would make Hank horny. So he made sure that all his “friends” preferred an up-to-date health test, which fortunately is mandatory in the US Army. It basically ran without a rubber. In cunt and ass. With final sperm swallowing and clean licking. In cars, in clubs or in other people’s homes.

During the day I studied, on weekends I turned into a negro whore under Hank’s hands. He bought me one-piece dresses that could be ripped off me in a hurry. He forced me not to wear underwear, so I was ready for use immediately and without hesitation. And he taught me to get down on all fours and open my wet holes to anyone who wanted to.

I think Hank made a lot of money with me. His friends with health tests could fuck me, the others I served only with my mouth. At some point Hank demanded that I not only lick the cocks but also the asses of the negroes. I was divided. On the one hand I knew how horny it made the men when you stuck your tongue up their asses, on the other hand I didn’t like the sour and rancid taste of sweat and ass.

“Then get the fuck out of here,” Hank barked at me. “There are dozens of cunts like you and they all lick black asses. So get the fuck out!”

I cried and refused to leave him. So it became my specialty, licking the ass deep for anyone who wanted it. Eventually, I didn’t care if they were hairy or shaved, clean or dirty. If I had a stiff black cock beating in my mouth, it was part of the game sucking balls and driving my tongue into the crevice. If a man moaned and relaxed, it was the signal for me to go deeper. Some lifted their legs by themselves so that my mouth and nose found their way to their asshole. Others I had to gently push their legs apart and lift them up to get to where women’s tongues usually don’t get lost. And I really mastered an ass-licking technique that made men wild.

The secret is that with my hands I pulled the ass cheeks of the negroes so far apart that the tender asshole was stretched to bursting point. On this vulnerable and tensed piece of muscle, I put a deep French kiss and licked myself up to the hole, which I slowly but demandingly went deep into with my tongue. It was then important to find a rhythm in which I sucked the tensed outer skin around the sphincter like a lollipop, while the tip of my tongue kept on going into the intestine. This drove the men crazy. And Hank took pictures of my ass-licking orgies, sent them on to comrades, who of course wanted to meet me. And they paid well for my services.

Then Hank started filming. But at that time a vicious circle of drugs, humiliation and prostitution had already begun, which had blunted me. Hank said that in order not to react to smells and tastes with disgust, I should take drugs that desensitized me sensory. At first we only smoked pot, then we threw pills and finally he introduced me to crack. So I started to love sweaty bodies, not to be disgusted by the taste of piss and to satisfy with mouth and lips the buttocks of men offered to me. On weekends Hank picked me up in his Ford Mustang at the dormitory and until Sunday evening I served his friends as a negro pig.

And I mean really as a pig. Hank had rented an apartment in K-Town, which he only called “the barn”, meaning stable, and one room had only straw lying on the tiled floor. That was the dirt room. Hank filmed and I swallowed cum, I swallowed piss, I licked Negro asses. One day one of the soldiers asked me to eat some real Negro shit.

Somehow this guy had a hatred for white people. Especially white women. He was tall, sinewy and brutal. And he loved to make me cry. He liked to spit in my face, turn me wordlessly and ram his hard cock into my intestines without foreplay. He held me down, took me in his headlock and beat me. After he beat me red and blue once, I asked Hank never to let the guy over me again. But Hank was the biggest pig I ever met.

The next weekend I was back in the barn when a dozen friends of Hank’s came, and among them was the guy whose name I don’t even know. I was naked and sitting in a chair while the crack started to work. All of a sudden this guy came out, screamed at me and yanked me up by my hair. The men laughed. I felt his tremendous physical strength that had grabbed into my hair and pulled me up until my feet no longer touched the ground. I screamed something, but instead of standing off, he smacked me hard in the face left and right. With the flat of his hand. The last thing I saw was Hank standing in front of me with a camera and smiling.

I was hurled to the ground and before I could even bend away I was grabbed by the hair again and dragged into the stable. The crowd roared. Lying on my stomach in the straw, someone sat down on my upper body so that I was defenseless and fixed. I felt hands on my backside, slowly opening it and exposing my two holes. I don’t know how many of the men were fucking me. I also don’t know who came in my cunt and who came in my ass, but in the end sperm, piss and shit came out of my holes and after the man who sat on me had freed me, I was forced to lick it all up. Meanwhile, Hank continued filming.

The brute, from whom my torture had started, then demanded that his comrades lay me on their backs and hold me by my arms and legs. Firmly. Then he sat down with his hairy and sweaty black ass on my smeared face, slipped around on it and every time my tongue and lips slackened with their work, he increased the pressure on my head until I was licking and sucking wildly again. Eventually his ass opened up and with force he pushed his intestinal contents into me. I screamed, whimpered, kicked around me, but it was no use. The negro only left me after I had obeyed his order and really cleaned everything completely.

After the giant had let go of me and I could breathe freely again – the men were still laughing and making rude remarks – I noticed that Hank was still filming. And I freaked out. I tried to get up, but got a kick from someone, who threw me to the ground again and made me rattle. Some black stinky jute bag was pulled over my face and fastened around my neck. I went into a kind of shocked rigor and lay on the floor completely motionless. I was turned on my stomach and fucked in the ass again, I was turned on my back and fucked in the cunt, and when none of the men wanted to fuck anymore they pissed on me. On the body, on the jute bag. Whether all the men pissed on me, I don’t know, but judging by the amount of urine, there were several of the men who emptied themselves over me. Then it slowly became quiet and the men left the room.