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Uniform
by Awizzardatrustar (awizzardatrustar@aol.com)

***

War is hell, and abuse often happens. But sometimes 
being abused can be titillating, especially when you're 
in the right frame of mind. Not knowing how to respond, 
how to stop it, being subjugated, abused and intimidated 
can be primal and arousing in a strange perverted sort 
of way. (M/F, nc, rp, oral)

***

Author's Note: The following story is adult in nature. 
If your are underage or easily offended by graphic 
descriptions, please do not proceed. As this is my first 
posted story, I would appreciate any feedback. Please 
remember this story is copywriten as is mine!

***

I was born of war. In the later parts of the nineteen 
thirties, the German's invaded my homeland. The Polish 
people were overwhelmed and unprepared for the Aryan 
advance. They came in droves, tanks and fighter planes. 
They destroyed. My older brother was nine. I was yet to 
be conceived. One night, they came to our house, 
soldiers dressed in Nazi colors. That was the night I 
came into being.

My father could never tell me, my mother either. It was 
only through an alcohol fog, that my brother let it out. 

"It was brutal," He said through the slur of the vodka.

"They came as we were eating our dinner. Father opened 
the door and they pushed right by him. The sanctity of 
our home was gone. These tyrants, these bullies in their 
jack boots and starched wool uniforms now took not only 
our beautiful country, they now came to take our souls."

He was stumbling on his words, his tongue thick with the 
drink. He leaned way back in the big, overstuffed chair 
and threw his head back, looking at the ceiling. He 
continued, "It was such a shock. They sat right down at 
our table and started to eat the food right off our 
plates. Our mother got up and tried to go to father, but 
she was young and beautiful, and now that was a crime. 
They snatched her arm as she walked past, pulled her 
back and demanded her to serve them their food. She went 
back to the stove and emptied the pot of potatoes on 
their plates. 

"The larger of the two then grabbed her and at the same 
time, kicked me from my seat. I went scrawling to the 
floor and he placed her there beside him. I could see 
her try to reach me, but he warned her to leave me lie. 

"I was bawling, I am sure, and so my father came 
instead. The other one, shorter and blonde with sick 
eyes, horrible angry eyes, grabbed my father and pushed 
him up against the wall. He forced him to stand there, 
while the other forced our mother's legs apart and 
touched her while he ate.

"I watched my brother's chest rise and fall now, as 
emotion stirred within his breast. He told me how the 
soldier hoisted our mother upon the table and raped her 
while our father was pinned against the wall. He sobbed 
out that the other then took his turn, while father 
crumbled to the floor in a heap of despair. 

"They raped her like it was desert to their meal, her 
body flailing amongst the food. He recalled their 
laughter at our father, who sat there in almost a fetal 
position, crying at his helplessness. 

"I was sickened to hear all of this. I was seventeen at 
the time. I tried to comfort my brother, but his eyes 
were cold as ice. The hate from that night was buried 
deep within him, but now it surfaced and burned in an 
unquenchable fire."

***

I went to bed that night and masturbated. I did this 
often to relieve stress, but this time was different. At 
first I did it as usual and imagined a tender lover 
stroking my body with careful hands, but then the 
passion rising, my mind betrayed me with thoughts of me 
being my mother on that brutal night. 

My thoughts were a mixture of disdain and pleasure. I 
pictured my cunt growing hot with fiery passion as the 
German plunged his stiletto cock into me. I was fighting 
it, wishing it away, but also devoured by the brutal 
taking of my body. I came in waves of hot, spastic 
pleasure. 

I was shamed by it. I slept fitfully and finally got out 
of my bed when the tossing and turning became too much. 
I went to my brother's room, which I had never done, and 
I lay beside him, held him. I wanted to absorb his hate, 
to take it from him so that he could be truly happy. My 
mother never had been. 

After that night, she walked through life as though the 
air was thick, too thick to move. My father also never 
really recovered. His pride was taken just as surely as 
mother's body. He was shown as weak and unable to 
protect his wife. He no longer cared. 

They said, the ones who knew, that I had my mother's 
good features, but mixed with the Aryan blood. My mother 
was of dark hair and fair skin, tall and well 
proportioned. I too am tall, but with light colored hair 
and a full round bosom. 

I was propositioned by men by the age of thirteen, and 
loss my virginity to a teacher one year later. He 
offered me council but then instructed me that for my 
own good, he should be my first lover. He claimed that 
by being older and more experienced, he would do it 
better and from then on my sex life would be better for 
it. 

I didn't so much agree or disagree, I didn't have much a 
choice. He took me in his office, ramming his small cock 
in and out without the benefit of rhythm. It was a 
jolting, stabbing like movement filled with anger. His 
eyes bulged above me and his sweat dripped across my 
face. If this was better, I dreaded worse!

The teacher never approached me again, in fact he gave 
me only an adequate grade. But there were other teachers 
and even a priest who gave me my first orgasm by going 
down on me. His tongue was soft and moved back and forth 
in a steady rhythm. He liked the way I moaned as I came. 
For some reason, all these men never wanted me much 
after the first time. They were satisfied by the taking, 
by the conquest. 

I never thought much of sex. I definitely never 
initiated it. Boys my own age had absolutely held no 
interest to me. In fact, I wanted to avoid the whole of 
it, altogether. Then one night, I was driving back from 
Krakow when I saw that there was a heavy military 
presence. I saw tanks and soldiers everywhere and it set 
something off in my mind. I could feel the fear wheeling 
up inside me, my breathing turn shallow and quick. There 
was a road block set up ahead and they were stopping 
cars. 

I thought, for some reason, of veering off. I don't know 
why. Suddenly I was turning the car and trying to make a 
U-turn. As I did, a officer ran toward my car and pulled 
at the door. He was screaming at me, "Get out, stop the 
car!"

I didn't know what to do. But I had no real choice. I 
stopped immediately and he pulled me from the car. His 
grasp was strong enough to bruise my arm. 

"What are you trying to do? Avoid detection?"

I must have stuttered, my eyes gone wide with fear. I 
could smell the dampness of the night upon his wool 
uniform. My legs grew weak. He had the bluest of eyes 
and strong sturdy shoulders. I looked into those eyes 
and saw the reflection of my mother lying on that table, 
flailing arms and legs as they punctured her again and 
again. He was not the least comforting. He held me firm 
as his eyes surveyed my face wrought with fear.

He called over another soldier and told him to take my 
car. He then escorted me down past the other drivers, 
paraded me as I looked into their cars, at their faces. 
We then moved left and over across the square into a 
nondescript building. I was taken to a room with a large 
uncovered light bulb on the ceiling. The only furniture 
was a small square table and two wooded, hard-backed 
chairs. 

He instructed me to remove my coat and hand it over to 
him. When I opened it, I could see his eyes focus on my 
chest, which heaved in panicked breaths. He seemed 
amused by this. I watched him hang his coat over mine on 
a nail pounded into the wall behind the door. He seemed 
in no hurry now. 

I watched him light a cigarette with no intention of 
offering me the same. He turned the chair around and sat 
on it facing the back. He just watched me for a short 
time, I trying my best to avoid his gaze. He had short 
blonde hair, a little longer in the front and combed to 
the side. His mouth had a snarl to it. 

"How old are you?" He asked.

I managed to stammer out, "I am twenty-two."

He shrugged at this answer. Thought about it for a bit, 
then demanded, "Why did you run?"

"Run?" I said, now quivering like a cold damp dog left 
out far too long. 

"You tried to avoid the road block." His voice was cold 
and unemotional. His eyes wandering from my breasts to 
my lips.

"I assure you," I said, I was not trying to avoid 
anything other than the traffic!" 

"You are lying," He growled through a snarled mouth. "I 
don't like liars!"

"I was scared," I cried. "I don't know why!" Tears were 
flooding down my cheeks now. I was sobbing. 

"I'm going to have to take you into custody, hold you 
until I get the truth." 

The words stung my ears. I begged him now.

He got up and walked behind me. Then I felt the tug of 
his hand wrapped around my pony tail. He pulled back my 
head till my chin rose.

"Why should I believe you?" He asked.

I could not find words that would answer his inquiry, so 
I said what I said, "I will do anything, just please 
believe me."

"Anything?" 

His free hand now caressed my shoulder and slowly worked 
down over my upper breast. I felt a twinge of hatred, 
but then it had been my offer. I forced myself far back 
in the chair and puffed out my chest as if to offer it 
to him. He did not miss the signal. His hand now cupped 
my breast fully. He then walked round me and instructed 
me to remove my blouse.

"I'm going to let you suck my cock. If you do so, and do 
it well then I might let you go home tonight."

I tried not looking at him, but he pulled back my head 
by my hair. 

"Do we understand each other?" He said through more 
relaxed features now. 

"Yes," I answered. 

He let loose my hair and my head came forward. I reached 
out and started to undo his uniform pants. He slipped 
off his jacket and undid his shirt, as I did. Somehow 
the smell of the wool mixed my emotions and began to 
make me want to do this, in fact more than I ever wanted 
to do anything. I wanted to be humiliated, to be taken, 
forced to swallow his cock.

He pulled me back and undid my bra. My breasts were 
heavy and full with large pink areolas and thick short 
nipples. He rolled them between his fingers and told me 
how good they would look drenched in cum. I gasped at 
the thought. 

He forced me to lick my own nipples, to suck them. I did 
so and felt them swell between my lips. He then took his 
turn, his lips wrapped around them, sucking and licking. 
He then brought me forward again by a tug of my hair. I 
slid down his trousers and found him sans under ware. 
His cock was thick and at first short. It was topped by 
a tuft of hay colored hair, but his balls were smooth 
and hairless. I had not much experience at this, but 
felt me way. 

I licked at the wetness forming at the tip and smelled 
the thick musty aroma of his pre-cum. My hands were on 
his hips, slowly sliding down his pants and then back up 
on bare skin. His cock now grew ample in length to match 
his girth. 

I tilted my head on the way down and back the other way 
as I rose up to till I had only the head between my 
lips. It was funny, I thought, how the head looks like a 
helmet. How fitting. His cock swell between my lips, 
offering a steady slow stream of the clear liquid 
antecedent of his explosion. It was like a volcano, 
building in lava. He instructed me throughout. 

Telling me to go faster, or to lick his balls. His voice 
was thick with dialect and accent from his Bavarian 
roots. I hated hearing the words come out, chopped as 
they were in angry bursts. What a romantic less 
language. His hips moved in little circles, I held my 
hands over his muscular ass, feeling it pump his cock 
into my mouth like a piston. His moves were precise, not 
surprising since the Germans were known for precision. 

I was hungry now for him. I wanted to taste his salty 
brim. My cunt was wet and gaping. I could hear other 
soldiers in the anti rooms and hoped they did not enter. 
I was not so lucky, however, and another younger man 
came to the door as I was sucking this man's cock. The 
officer had not the decency to send him away. He offered 
him to come in and "join the party!"

I was sickened by being watched, but driven still to 
complete my duty. It was not long until with a gasp, he 
flooded my mouth with his thick, hot spudge. I did not 
even entertain not swallowing it. This could have met 
more degradation and perhaps me having to repeat the 
process over again. 

As soon as I finished. The officer demanded 'I milk 
every drop out.' I squeezed his cock and massaged his 
balls, while licking off the remainder of his load. The 
other soldier then hoisted me up on the table, face 
down. He slipped off my soaked panties. He too had not 
the manners of disregarding their condition. He laughed 
and sniffed at the wet spot. 

"Look, I think you have her aroused!" He laughed. 

The officer took the panties and did similar. 

I was then taken, my skirt pushed up to my waste, my 
round, firm ass on display. The soldier took great 
pleasure in spanking it pink as he drove his cock inside 
my waiting tunnel. 

"Raise it up! Lift that ass, so I can fuck you deeper!" 
His voice was exuberant, filled with youthful lust. 

He fucked me hard, pounding his balls against my clit, 
setting it on fire. He made me tell him how good it was, 
and it was. My pussy was a sheath stretched wide around 
his cock. 

Every time he released to the point of allowing only the 
thick head inside and then ramming it full, I felt the 
excitement grow. It grew into a fire by the time he 
finished and was only quenched with the officer took 
over and turned me over. With my back on the table and 
my legs wrapped tightly around him, I came in hot 
spasms. It only intensified when he white washed my tits 
with streams of milky white cum. 

"Get dressed now!" He shouted. 

"I am sure this will not be reported!"

I didn't report it. I kept it to myself and used it over 
and over again in masturbatory fantasies. I know this is 
probably not right, but there is inside me this need to 
be taken.

END

awizardatrustar@aol.com

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any 
of the scenarios in this story should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 80