0 comments/ 90291 views/ 25 favorites Oberführer Turned My Life Around By: Coxswain I'm old enough now that I can tell this story. I planned never to confess it, but now I'm 98, so what the hell. In early 1944 I was 35, a US Army medic with our forces in Italy. I have Type AB-negative blood, the rarest type, and a flash message came in to our unit asking me to give blood for some government official injured in London in one of the V-2 rocket-bomb attacks. Sure, what the hell. They decided that, considering the problems of preserving the blood, keeping it safe, etc, etc, flying me to London for the donation would be simpler. It was an adventure. A ride in a fast transport to London, a quick ride to the hospital, the blood donation -- I think they took a teense more than usual to be sure they had enough -- and, lightheaded, I was on my way to a barracks for a night's sleep. The next morning, still lightheaded -- and I was beginning to think, goddamn, what did they do to me? -- I was on my way back to my unit. The return flight was different, though. As I waited to climb on the plane, the mass of military gathered around the place amazed me. Planes, trucks, jeeps, and a sea of soldiers crammed the airfield. Something is up. When the crew put down the ladder for us to climb into the plane, a soldier with stars on his shoulders passed by me -- Damn, a general! -- but the strangest thing was that looking in the man's face was like looking in a mirror. He was about my age, my height, and my build. Wow. We looked at each other for only an instant before he climbed into the plane, but I stood there in amazement. I wondered if he might be some long-lost relative or somethin, somebody with some inherited family looks. I was nervous. Don't like airplanes. When they're not firing machinegun bullets at you or dropping bombs on you, they're falling out of the sky for one reason or another and killing the occupants -- an observation plane in our unit fell out of the sky and killed the pilot just because of some glitch in the carburetor. So I really shit when the plane suddenly started taking evasive maneuvers, swerving and jinking, throwing us all around -- and out the window I spotted a single ME-109, a rogue Messerschmidt in this part of the sky for God knows why but taking advantage of the coincidence. The next thing I knew, cannon rounds ripped through the plane, it was on fire, and we were falling out of the sky! I hung on for dear life! With a loud explosion, the plane felt like it collapsed around me, and everything went black! I learned later that I survived because on its way down, the plane struck a nearly vertical mountainside, then treetops and a gradually leveling-out mountain slope, slowing the wrecked plane rather than disintegrating it in a single, one-point smash. I was in bad shape. Bleeding. Losing consciousness. I could hold on only long enough to drag myself out of the wreckage. I could smell gas, and I was afraid of burning to death -- which was funny. I knew I would be dead in a few minutes from loss of blood, anyway. Everything went black again. When I came to again, I was in a bed with clean, white sheets. I checked my arms and legs -- all there. My head ached, and I fingered a bandage over my forehead. I wonder who found me and how I got here. Then I looked up at the wall. It held a flag with a swastika. A nurse came into the room and placed a tea tray over me, and on it she placed an ornate china teapot, a matching cup and saucer, and a small pitcher of cream. To my astonishment, she carefully poured me a cup of tea, smiled, and left the room. As I took my first sip of the tea, the door opened, and in stepped a man in a black SS uniform. The man was big. A tall guy a good 6' 6", and I guessed him a good 250 pounds. He had a square, handsome face with a broad forehead, blue eyes under shaggy blond eyebrows, and a narrow nose. He wore a monocle! -- god, he really is a German! -- Thin lips in a narrow jaw made his mouth look small and somehow cruel, like the mouth of a piranha. "General Phillips! Welcome to Schloss MännerTor." I blinked. What did he say? "We were pleased, Herr General, to find you alive. Unfortunately, the other occupants of your airplane were not so lucky." Ohmigod! He thinks I'm -- "We know the reason for your hurried flight to Nordafrika, Herr General." He smiled. "And we would be interested in whatever information a man who has attained such a distinguished rank at such a young age could share with us . . . about the Allied attack on the Reich in France." "I know nothing." This will be easy. No matter what they do, I can't tell what I don't know. "Of course. I would expect you to say nothing less, Herr General." He smiled. Like a rattlesnake. "Please accept our hospitality and enjoy your stay." He left the room. What is this place? Where am I? I got out of bed and looked out the window. Woods. Forest all around. Hell, this could be anywhere from France to Greece. How am I going to get out of here? I moved to the door and tried the knob. It was not locked! I looked out. The hallway was empty. Damn, I can get out of here right now! But all I had on was my underwea. I went back into the room and searched the closet. Nothing. Under the bed. Nothing. In the drawers of a dresser near the window. Nothing. Damn! Just then the door opened and Von Teuer walked in again. "Ah, I see you are feeling better, Herr General. Good to see you -- how you say -- 'up and about.'" He walked into the room, and six mammoth soldiers followed him. I crawled back into the bed. Von Teuer took a seat in the chair and pulled it closer. "You are a very interesting case for us, Herr General. With you we do not wish to 'damage the goods,' as you say." He smiled and leaned back on the chair. "With you we are going to use a more 'humane' technique. You will be turned into a homosexual. And as such a demented form, you will find yourself more . . . shall we say . . . "cooperative." No! That's not possible! Turn me into a homosexual? No! I've got a wife at home! I have two children! I've never had a single interest in men! But I was scared. "You are making a mistake," I said carefully. "I am not a general. I am James Dotal, US Army medic, serial number 18815841." "Of course, General. I, too, would say as much. But we are past such foolishness now, ja?" He turned to the big soldiers. "Nehmen Sie die Kleidung dieses Mannes heraus!" With that, the soldiers grabbed my arms and legs, pinning me down. I struggled, but they had secured me well -- "Moment, bitte!" Von Teuer barked -- the soldiers froze. He reached down and groped my crotch. "Ja, gut," he muttered. "You are a good subject, Herr General." He hefted my balls through the cloth. "A good -- how you say -- 'bulge,' nein?" He stepped back and nodded at the soldiers, who yanked down the waistband, pulling my underwear down, over my knees, and off. I was naked. I glanced down and went beet-red with embarrassmen! Von Teuer's gropings had given me a partial erection! Damn, how humiliating! "Ach, ja, you see? Already you have the little interest, nein?" God, I was ashamed! "Welcome to the world of der Naturalismus, the nudism, Herr General. From now on, this is your uniform -- the air. For your training, the soldaten assigned to you will wear the same uniform, ja?" He motioned to the guards, all of whom began to remove their uniforms. I was stunned. The guard nearest me was big. Easy 6' 1" and 200 pounds. He had a broad, handsome face with a smooth, boyish forehead and brown hair, but my attention was drawn to his body as he peeled away the layers of uniform -- the first time I'd ever seen a naked Nazi. Big, broad shoulders. Powerful, like a weightlifter or somethin. A big, muscular chest covered with a thatch of coarse, brown hair. The guy was really built -- hard, rounded pecs with nipples maybe 3 inches across and sticking out like pencil erasers. Lats giving his torso a hooded-cobra look. The guy was a brick shit-house, and over everything was a dense snarl of brown hair. I glanced down. He had a cock that made me blink. Damn! It was at least 6" still soft, a big, fat thing jutting out from a big, snarled, coarse thatch of brown hair. Veins and skin textures contoured it, making it bumpy, and it ended in a streamlining foreskin at the tip that almost covered his red cockhead -- but not quite -- forming a large, dark hole like a giant eye looking up at me. I looked around. The other soldiers were rapidly getting naked, and every one of them was an incredible example of well-developed manhood. I wondered if they had assembled the German national soccer team to guard me. I was naked in a room full of naked men. Only Von Teuer wore clothing, and when he left, I was alone in a sea of male flesh. This is not so bad. Just like being in a shower room. I can deal with this. But it was a little harder than I thought. No doors were locked to me. I could wander anywhere I wanted. In fact, I had to walk to the German garrison mess hall for my meals, and I had to go to the German Army latrine and showers. Always naked. Only shower shoes. Always accompanied by my six naked Supermen. But something about it -- something about going naked all day, day after day, feeling my ramrod bouncing back and forth as I walked, desperately trying to hide an erection when one occurred -- grew too much to handle. I finally gave it up as hopeless, and I relaxed, strutting about with a hard cock whenever one came to me -- and that kept me constantly thinking about sex. Day by day I grew hornier than I had ever been, and finally I was dying for a few moments of privacy so I could jack off. My guards were much less restrained. They were constantly stroking themselves, very often stopping for a moment, rigid, panting, to shoot a jet of semen into the air. At any moment four of the six had a huge, magnificent erection. They were big. Bigger than mine. It got to the point I was a little sheepish. Although I was older, I felt like a little boy around them. One evening as we sat in my room, my guards lolling on their bunks, some of them stroking big hardon, one of them said, "Why you not make the hand-pleasure? It is a long time now for you, nein? Go ahead. It is permitted. No one will look at you." Something about that invitation turned me on. Yes, I was horny. I hadn't had sex with a woman or jacked off since before the flight to London. Feeling myself blush, I reached down to my long-unused battering ram. "Ja, that is it! Go ahead. Make the hand-pleasure!" I let myself go, stroking my grateful dong in short, sharp, violent strokes, banging against my groin with passion. I glanced around the room. Twelve eyes were riveted on me. No one will look at me, huh? Something about those beady eyes, knowing a half-dozen big men were watching me like perverted voyeurs, made me even hotter. I closed my eyes in a rhapsody of pleasure as the blessed torture reached a peak. My foreskin flapped back and forth as I went over the falls, setting my whole body on fire. I spread my legs apart and could not hold back a blissful groan. At the peak of my ecstasy, in the moment of insanity, a hand quickly pulled open my fingers, and a second hand gripped my cock, continuing my orgasm -- and lengthening it by the very sensation of a strange hand beating my meat. I opened my eyes. "I am Privat Bayer, Herr General." He squeezed my still-buzzing cock. "This is gut, ja?" What could I say? I let out a big sigh. "Ja, das ist gut." That opened the can of worms -- that is, I was suddenly in a world of worms, hard worms that rubbed against me. From then on the guards stroked me every time I got even the beginning of an erection, keeping me constantly aroused, always inviting me to reciprocate. Once again, I blushed to have a naked man jacking my crank while I stood in line in the mess hall with 50 or more German soldiers in uniform nearby. No one seemed to care, though, and after days of swatting their hands away, I gave up. I jacked off -- or was jacked off -- at all hours of the day and night, always in public. At least eight times a day. Since all I had to do was be a prisoner -- wander here, wander there, go to meals, read a book in the library -- I was more and more unable to keep thoughts of sex out of my mind. The more my guards jacked me off, the more I came to have favorites, enjoying one's technique over another's. Finally one afternoon I reciprocated. One of the guards walking beside me got a hardon. I glanced down at it, and as I did, it swelled big enough that his foreskin slid sinuously back, revealing a fat, glowing-red cockhead shiny from his juices. Somehow the image stuck in my head. I continued to look as he reached down to stroke it, moving his hand from the snarl of blond hair at its base, flopping the foreskin over the head again. I couldn't tear my eyes away. It was haunting, hypnotic . . . commanding. He caught my look. "You like, ja? I am Corporal Ungefär." He took my hand and placed it on his prick. It was hot. Throbbing. God, I can't close my fingers around it! Damn, I was hot! I let myself go. I stroked it the way I did myself: short, sharp strokes, and -- hey, I'm good! -- he closed his eyes, stood up stiff and straight, and bang! He shot some damned admirable spurts of cum. I was impressed. High in the air. As high as my chest. And far -- a good three or four feet! I did that! I turned him on! I congratulated myself. Natural talent! I came by it honestly. I had been beating the meat since the age of seven, when I wandered into the garage and saw my father stroking himself with his right hand, a picture of a naked woman in the other. I tried it myself while I watched him, and to my astonishment, a feeling suddenly built up in me that I could not control, and overcome by a tidal wave of pleasure, I fell down, stumbling into a case of beer bottles. When I crawled to my feet again, my father was gone. I never caught him masturbating again, but his legacy remained with me. From then on I choked my chicken at least once a day, even after I was married. Corporal Ungefär was breathing hard. "Ach, ja," he sighed. "You make the good hand-pleasure! I want you for do me in future." That gave me a strange pride, and that cut the ribbon for my debut as the house jacker. From then on all my guards wanted me to "do" them. Again, I was terribly embarrassed when the bastards put their hard cocks in my hands when we were out among the other German soldiers or the medical staff -- but no one paid much attention. The German soldiers looked on with mild interest, but no one stared. I got used to it. Soon my days were almost nonstop masturbation -- either getting it or (more often) giving it. And the giving and getting grew together. While I was jacking off one guard, another was giving me the business. One day while I stood watching Privat Schmidt trembling, barely able to stand as I jacked him while we waited in line in the mess hall, suddenly I felt something wet and warm envelop my own erection. Astonished, I jerked my cock back out of Privat Bayer's mouth! From kneeling on the mess hall floor between my legs, he looked up at me with surprise. He reached out and gripped my hard cock again and pressed his lips against it. I looked around. A few German soldiers were watching us. Most were intent on their food. Modesty was futile. It was ridiculous to feel any shame here. For the hundredth time I let myself go. Bayer opened his mouth wide and worked his lips over my grateful manhood. I relaxed and let him suck, one hand on his head, guiding him -- the other continuing my hand-job on Schmidt. Soon the magic began -- I was breathing in hot, rapid gasps, and I got one motherfucker of an orgasm! Every cell in my body was on fire. Bayer's blowjob turned me into a statue of solid male exaltation. My only connection to solid earth was my throbbing ramrod plugged into the naked soldier's mouth. In a daze, seeing red, my dick sputtering my jism like I was cumming for the first time. I lost my balance and fell against Bayer, then to the floor. When I got up, I heard applause from the entire mess hall. Then I really did blush! My guards smiled proudly, and uniformed soldiers clapped me on the back. Somehow I had reached a threshold. Late that night, awake in my bunk, I couldn't stop thinking about Bayer's blowjob. Damn. Better than any woman's. He knew what to do and when. And where. My cockhead still buzzed from the electric tongue-swipes he gave me at the moment of takeoff. I looked over at him. In the moonlight and the light from the hallway outside, I could see him. He lay on his bunk stroking his magnificent cock. At least 10". Like a hooded cobra rising from the grassy brown swamp of his cockhair, capped with a wide, flaring nail-head of a cockhead that made it look like a giant mushroom. I was horny. Hungry. Craving. Bayer looked back at me. His eyes sent me a message through the shadows, and I obeyed. I arose silently from my cot and moved over to his. I squatted beside his cot and lowered my head to his crotch. I took the big thing into my mouth, licking it with my tongue, tasting it. I sucked him, trying to do him as he had done me, bobbing my head, at the same time jacking him sensually, hoping he got the same thrills of pleasure he gave me. After a few minutes, "Ach, ja, mein guter," he murmured, and a spurt of hot liquid gushed into my mouth. My first taste of sperm. Damn, it's good! Tangy. I could imagine it as a sauce over a steak rare. I gulped it down. When his cock softened, I backed off, licking it clean as it fell away. "Danke," he whispered. I went back to my cot. I had passed another milestone. I knew it in my bones. Sure enough, the next morning, SS Oberführer Von Teuer himself strode into the room. "You have enjoyed the hospitality of the Schoss MännerTor, ja? Now comes the time for some 'training.'" This doesn't sound good. With that, Von Teuer unbuttoned his tunic, pulling it open to bare his chest, covered with a thatch of the same gold that crowned his head. He looked at me and smiled. He unbuckled his belt and slipped if off with the diagonal strap over his shoulder. Dropping the tunic behind him, he stood before me, a glorious example of maleness, bare to the waist, wearing only the black riding breeches and the shiny black boots. I didn't mean to, but I licked my lips. Big chest. Powerful chest. Hard, jutting pecs like Alpine cliffs. Big nipples. That mass of blond hair like a field of wheat. Again I licked my lips. I looked up at Von Teuer's face. He was smiling. -- Oh, no! No, God, don't let me!! -- I bit my lip in shame. I was getting a hardon. "Ja, I see you like this." Von Teuer pulled open the buttons of his fly, then shucked down his pants, leaving me to gape. -- It can't be!! -- Von Teuer's cock was gigantic! Still soft, the huge thing sagged halfway to his knee! --This can't be right! Nobody's that big! They must've drugged me! -- It jutted out from a big, snarled, coarse thatch of that shiny-gold hair, and a roadmap of red and blue veins filigreed the shaft. Von Teuer's magnificent cock ended in a shroud of foreskin that completely covered his cockhead, ending in a heathen, seductive tassel of soft skin. Couldn't see his piss-hole. "I am pleased you like me, Herr General." I looked down. Ohmigod! My own bayonet stood up rock-hard, throbbing, straight up and fuck-ready. My face instantly burned with shame. Oberführer Turned My Life Around Ch. 02 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. "Speak up!" "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." Oberführer Turned My Life Around Ch. 02 He sneered. "But you can still serve the Riech, Pussi-boy." Bringen Sie ihn in die Baracken! Take me to the barracks? The guards hustled me out of the room, out of the building, across the parade ground, and into the soldiers' barracks. We continued on past the rows of cots, and I couldn't help but notice some of the men lounging on a few of them. Some were naked. Look at that guy. Wide shoulders, big chest, flat belly. And look at that weapon! A good 7". And look at that big nail-head of a cockhead! I licked my lips. One of the naked soldiers got up from his cot, grabbed me, and pushed me backward. I fell to the floor. Oh, yes, oh, god, do it! Fuck me! PLEASE! I spread my legs wide-open and lifted my feet into the air. I did love the feel of a big male mounting me. I stared down in delirious, eager expectation. His cock slid into my crack, and in desperate frustration I reached down and guided him to my seething hole. He pressed against my ass-ring, and with a mighty lunge, he slammed it in to the balls, and he looked in my eyes. I knew he wanted it to hurt -- it meant he was too big for me -- but he used no lube, and his insertion was dry and painful. "Anngh!"I croaked, writhing in pain, but I also almost came. I was so hot, so desperate, so aching for a good fucking, the man had rammed me to heaven. Then he began his strokes, and I loved to look into his eyes, to see the animal wildness there, the dark lust and cruelty. His big cock, finally slick with my ass-juices, pummeled me into the Next Level of Existence. God, I love fucking! He was healthy and big, and he stretched me good and taut, giving me the needles-and-pins sensitivity and the shotgun thrills of pleasure with every stroke. I was hot. Fever hot. I lunged my hips back at him, matching him stroke for stroke. Driving him in deeper, clapping our balls together to the point it almost became painful. When both our climaxes appeared on the horizon, he looked down at me, and I knew who was truly the boss. A male was breeding me. I was his mate, part of his harem, his herd. The big, muscular soldier above me was a man using his cock, the master using the slave. No way was I in control. I was nothing. A hole. A piece of meat craving and eager to do his bidding. I was lucky I knew no military secrets. At that moment I would have done anything he wanted, said anything he wanted me to say, told him anything. My whole body was begging him for it, and I was powerless to resist. I was his property. I wanted nothing more than to feel my hole wrapped around his penis, obediently squeezing it as hard as I could, willing every cell in my body to increase his pleasure. My reward was a mind-blower of an orgasm! Stunning. Petrifying. I don't know if I remained conscious or not. All I remember was that everything flashed into a red haze, and I drowned in rapture. I could hardly breathe. Gradually I began to hear a roaring sound, and I realized I was screaming, my cock gushing cum in what felt like quarts. Then I felt the soldier get his gun, and as his sperm shot up into me, I actually got another orgasm. God, I really was a bitch! Multiple orgasms! I wanted to stay connected with that man forever, and when he pulled out, I felt empty. Useless. But almost instantly I gasped as another German cock slammed into me for sloppy seconds. My head fell off the back of the bunk, and I got another uncut dong down my throat. Sometime after midnight, after I don't know how many German soldiers had me, the guards took me to another building. The prison. They threw me through the gate, and I fell to the ground. Two prisoners helped me to my feet. "Welcome to the Hilton, man," said one. God, Americans! Suddenly I was very conscious of my nakedness. "They took your uniform away, man?" "Yeah." Oh, God, I'm covered with smears of jizz, it's leaking out of my ass, and I know they can smell it on me. They looked at me sadly. "Let's see if we can find something for you to put on." The other prisoners never said anything. Never accused me of anything. Never asked a single question about what happened to me before I joined them in the prison building. About a week later, on a dark night after midnight, we were asleep when suddenly I felt a hand shaking me awake. I opened my eyes to a dazzling, blinding light. Someone was holding a flashlight in my face! "Here he is," a voice grunted softly, and the next thing I knew, strong hands pulled me from the bed. "General, sir . . . Special Ops team . . . here to rescue you!" I looked around. Six big men in black clothing, faces and hands blacked out with sooty grease, holding Tommy guns stood looking down at me. "Wait!" I hissed. "The rest here are American, too!" "Sorry, Sir. We're here just to get you." I stood up tall. "Sergeant, I am giving you a direct order! You are to get every man out of here . . . or none!" To cut a long story short, after some cursing and arguments, the Special Ops men got us all out. It took longer, and they were damned nervous, but every one of us got over the wall and ran down the path in the darkness. It worked. The truck waiting for us had to make two trips, but the second group waited silently in the trees until the truck came back. As I rode in the back of the truck, one of the prisoners reached out and shook my hand. "Damn, you're a general? Sir?" He lowered his voice. "I think you're a hero. When I think of what those bastards must have . . . done . . . to you, I think it was a heroic sacrifice." I said nothing. What could I say? "I can promise you this, General. No one in this group will ever tell about anything that happened to you. Your secret will die with us." The blacked-out plane waiting camouflaged a few miles away was big enough to load all of us . . . and so we made it back to Allied lines. There I found myself in one hell of a bee's nest when they found out I was who I was, not who the Germans thought I was, and not who the rescue team thought I was. They rescued the wrong guy. They had to be "glad," of course. To act any other way would show such heroic rescue attempts were not for the average Joe soldier. The other prisoners never found out I was not a general. I was given a Stateside assignment until the end of the war. I have lived in shame since those days. I feel rotten to the core. I knew no secrets -- I revealed nothing to the enemy. But I would have. My life since then has been in a constant search for my self-respect. ~~~ Oberführer Turned My Life Around "Now that you are the Amerikaner cocksucker, you are ready for your next service to der Vaterland. I looked at him with wide-open eyes as he relaxed onto my bed. I struggled to get away, but my naked guards, all with hot, hard cocks, held me down and turned me over, pulling me up to my hands and knees. I knew what was coming. Von Teuer knelt behind my legs in spite of my struggling, and somebody swiped my ass-crack with something wet and slimy -- Oh, god, a lubricant! Then I felt what I knew was his cockhead rubbing up and down over my asshole. He pressed it against my opening. Oh, shit! Sonofabitch!! Pain! Damn, it hurt! Like somebody ramming a baseball bat up my butt. He kept pushing, though, and with a lightning bolt of pain, his cockhead finally popped inside me, passing my first line of defense. I screamed, but if nothing else, the pain was suddenly not such a stabbing agony. As a result, I was glad -- relieved -- that he was through. He had fucked me. I was no longer a virgin. I was ashamed and humiliated . . . but relieved -- at least the pain was tolerable. Von Teuer held it there, not moving, letting me adjust to a dick in my ass for the first time. "Du bist meiner, mein Pussi-boy," he hissed in my ear, and I could have died of shame. After a few minutes he pushed in a few more inches, again letting me savor his size, letting me stretch. --Damn, I'm in no danger of enjoying this! God, it hurts! This is fucking wrong! Unnatural!!" As long as he held still, I crouched beneath him, sweating, panting, hoping to move as little as possible, keeping that terrible Nazi spear from damaging my guts. Then he would shove in more, spiking my pain, leaving me gritting my teeth until the pain finally faded again. Gradually I learned that relaxing my asshole made the pain taper off faster, and when he slowly slid in a couple more inches, I forced myself to relax. I was panting, sweating like I had a fever. He gave me another thrust, then another, and another, and finally, "Ich bin in Ihnen zu meinen Hoden!" God, he's in me to his balls! I felt Von Teuer's chest resting against my back. "You have done it, Herr General. My schwanz is in your ass. Now you just relax, ja? The worst is now over. Now he gets better." "You sick bastard," I hissed, "you perverted -- " but I cut myself off, astonished, and I couldn't hold back a long, low moan: Von Teuer was pulling his cock back slowly out of my bum, and I could not believe the sensual pleasure! His baby-maker, slick and slimy with whatever they lubed me with, stretched my ass tight and ultra-sensitive, and the movement sent me thrills of pleasure. Oh, God, oh, no! Please don't let me enjoy this!! By the time Von Teuer's cockhead was pulling back at my butt-ring at the end of his stroke, I was gnashing my teeth, clenching my eyes shut, desperately trying to deny the sizzling, ecstatic feelings radiating out from my ass. Then the bastard started the in-stroke again, slowly and seductively, and far from pain -- a thousand miles from pain! -- his wonderful penis skewered me with a crescendo of sensual pleasure. Suddenly I was panting in arousal, sweating in full-on sex heat. Oh, God, please! This can't be true! They're teaching me to LIKE this!! I didn't have a chance. I felt my mouth sagging open in a daze as he lunged in and out again, and sure enough, my struggles ceased, I relaxed, and the pleasure doubled. I was humiliated I shouldn't be enjoying this! but my eyes closed and my hands clenched against the sheet. The world was turning upside-down! God, I never knew a man could get such pleasure from his asshole! The pain was completely gone, and I felt nothing but scintillating spears of pleasure from his gigantic cock, and I found myself clenching my asshole around it, enjoying the little pain/pleasure jolts. I realized my hips were working with him, lunging back at him, matching his strokes, my whole body begging him for it. Oh, God, it's happened! I was powerless to resist. "Ach, ja, now you want it," Von Teuer croaked in a hoarse voice, "You want this schwanz up your ass, nein? Look at you, Herr General, your arschloch -- your asshole -- is slick and hot, your ass is up in the air, you bang back at me. Oh, ja, mein General, you are mine, now. I am going to fuck you now . . . until you beg me to finish you!" Damn. Hell and damn, it felt good! I bit my lip and forced myself to speak. "This is sick, you bastard. I'm no queer!" -- But Jesus, ooh, I love that -- when he moves his hips a certain way -- ahhh, yeah, like that!! -- "Okay, okay, you want me to beg? Stop! Stop already! I'm begging you!" "Oh, nein, mein General." His voice was low and deep, like Satan. "You are going to beg me to finish you, to fuck you until you are a new man, to fuck you until you become one with me. Until you become my toy. My Pussi-Boy." "Never! I'll never -- " but the rest was a loud gasp: Von Teuer sank his torpedo deep into me in a single, violent lunge, and the combination of pain and pleasure blew everything out of my brain but the fiery joy of that man's cock reaming my guts! Then began the real torture. Again Von Teuer fucked me in long, slow, tantalizing strokes, letting me feel every thrill in slow motion as his wonderfully textured and bumpy prong slid over the nerves in my guts, particularly over the red-hot cells in my asshole. I never would have believed a man could feel such a sublime pleasure from such a dark, forgotten, socially unacceptable area! As the big German's length retreated from me and pushed back in, I was praying that I could tread water through the bliss, holding out against the growing urgency of pleasure until Von Teuer tired. "I'm no homo," I moaned, "no queer!" To my horror, Von Teuer's big man-tamer of a cock, sliding back and forth in my body, began to fuck away my resolve in slow erosion and friction, and when I felt The Feeling in my balls, I panicked! I knew he was thrusting away my last hope for self-respect. No, God! Please! Don't let me come for him!! But my body was taking over. I writhed and fought, but I felt a climax starting to build, and I couldn't stop myself. And somehow he knew. "Ach, ja. Now he begins." The damned monster kept up the pace, fucking me slowly, tantalizing me, torturing me, teaching me a new experience, knowing I was in the agony of an approaching orgasm. "Say it, Herr General, say it. You must beg me." Like a man desperate to escape from a burning building, I searched everywhere in my brain for an escape, but I found none. With every delicious stroke of that fabulous ram, he pushed me closer to insanity. Finally I could stand no more. Out of my mind, I bowed my head to the sheet, reached back with both hands to my knees, and I pulled my legs even farther apart, spreading them, opening myself up even more. "Do it, you bastard," I roared, "give me that cock! Harder! Faster! C'mon, goddamnit, FUCK ME!! Von Teuer lunged into me with full-length rams, slamming our pelvic bones together, driving me completely out of my fucking mind. Oh, my god, what have I done to myself! This is so shameful! I have surrendered my manhood to big, hard, fucking men! But I never thought my asshole gave such a hot pleasure! I feel like shit, but I am hard, hot, and craving the cock! Shove me your big cock you powerful manly bastard Your big, giant cock's now thrusting me to heaven! My hot asshole wants and craves a cock in me! I'm stretched so your great cock owns me now I cannot deny I crave sweaty manly strength! More fucking! Deep! Now you have got me! Oh, yeah You now own my horny asshole Ram your throbbing cock in me deeper Your cock has made a damn slave!! Fuck me to death you big-dick stud Yeah! Take me, use my asshole! I crave your big hot cock up it! I am under your male power Make me your eager bitch Shove the cock in deep Make it show me how! Take me make me! Fuck now harder! I am your slut Your mantoy Your fuck Oh,Yeah Lover Yes O "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Everything went black. Ecstasy. Joy. Bliss. Pleasure so fucking overwhelming, it was almost pain. All I remember is that I felt like 20 syrettes of morphine had jammed up my ass, and never had I felt such euphoria. When I finally regained consciousness, I felt myself ejaculating what must have been dozens of spurts of sperm against the sheet, and I felt my asshole clenching against Von Teuer's thrusting dong with each spurt. Again the Voice: "Ja, now you see. The Fatherland knows more about you than you know yourself, Herr General. Welcome to the world of the Pussi-boys." I should have felt insulted and would think more about that later, but Von Teuer's wonderful Johnson was still lunging back in forth in my ass, drawing my orgasm out into an unending bliss punctuated by occasional spikes of pleasure that brought another spurt of cum from me. Multiple orgasms. Like a woman! It hit me: He's got me acting like a bitch! I couldn't bring myself to care -- not just then. Later, maybe. I had never felt so physically wonderful, so totally in bliss. I felt huge gears moving in my head as long-held beliefs wet up in smoke -- This is better than any fucking I have ever done. No woman, no blowjob, no jacking off, NOTHING is as sweet as this! Oh, God, no! He's taught me!! This is what he wants! He changed me. By then Von Teuer was fucking me to get his own climax, and, God forgive me, I crouched down for him, raising my butt, giving him his way with me. I couldn't deny it: I wanted it to last forever. Something made me hot, so very hot -- thinking I was taking it like a bitch, watching my stallion thrusting himself into me, feeling the pleasure of his fucking, knowing at that point that I meant nothing to him but a hole in a piece of hot meat. I was his bitch. (to be continued) ~~~