Hans Brucker sat at his desk high up in the tower suite of Brucker LTD. He had flown to Pretoria from the company headquarters in Germany to handle what he smugly thought would be an easy matter. As the company’s CEO and the controlling shareholder, the blond, well-built, green-eyed 32 yr. old Afrikaner was used to running both his company and everyone else with an air of arrogant assurance. In the sack or out, as he once bragged to a colleague, he was always in charge.
Today he was to meet with some worker who was leading the agitation for a union. What next , he thought as a frown came to his good-looking face…day care…good health care.
Hans looked at his watch. He had arranged to meet a man called Mpho in private. As he gazed out over the city he stretched his muscular frame and contemplated the many ways he would put this agitator in his place. Generations ago his family his family had come to South Africa to begin a new life and make money. Through brutal exploitation of the African population, the family had utilized a cowed native labor force to build what was now a worldwide industrial empire. Each new generation had employed the same tactics to build the family wealth in mining, farming shipping, factory work even, illegal trading to flaunt sanctions. The misery and sorrow they inflicted on their struggling work force to create more wealth for them made no difference as they sought to increase their economic power. Hans’ father had realized black rule would soon occur & that it would bring justice to those the Brucker’s had exploited. He expertly moved the company headquarters to Europe. Over the two years preceding black rule, he transferred all the company’s movable assets to Europe while selling off their depleted South African holdings at inflated prices. Only after the sales did the unsuspecting native buyers realize what they brought had been largely tapped out so any profits from their acquisitions was impossible. The only asset the company now held was a single small mine. True it could have been sold off with the others but, Hans father had held onto to it for sentimental reasons. It was the first asset the family founder had acquired. Hans and his brother had decided to sell it. Now, with union agitation, Hans had flown in to make sure nothing interfered with getting the best profit when it was sold. Besides, like everyone in his family over the last three hundred years, Hans had a dim view of the African tribes that lived in the country. He was not about to let some native agitator force him to do anything.
Being a product an elite social class, Hans had rarely had one-on-one contact with any black man let alone one from the country’s Zulu tribe. There had been a quick meeting earlier in the day with Johan, his local mine manager, to discuss both the mining operation and the African who was causing problems. Hans could not recall everything the two had discussed, only how subservient Johan’s voice seemed to sound when discussing Mpho’s ability to somehow get men to bend to his will. That had surprised Hans since, ever since they had attended school together, the powerfully built and handsome Johan had always insisted that all blacks were inferior to him and other Afrikaners. Hans also remembered a slightly stimulating taste to the whiskey that, Johan had served him. His friend had told Hans it was a local brew that he came upon one night in a local bar. After finishing his drink, Hans had found it difficult to focus during their meeting. He had a dim recollection of Johan droning on and on about how amazing Mpho was to serve. Though he told himself this must be wrong, Hans could almost swear Johan explained how sexually exciting it was yielding to Mpho’s dominance? At some point it also seemed as if Johan had taken ahold of Hans’s head and tilted it back to pour another glass of whiskey down his throat. After that things truly went out of focus for him and he had drifted off. When he woke, he had apologized but Johan had assured Hans that he understood his friend was probably suffering from jet lag. A buzzer sounded on his desk interrupting his recollections. He pressed the button of the intercom.
“Mr. Mpho is here ,’ his secretary’s voice said.
Hans felt a tingling throughout his body as he heard the man’s name “Send him in,” he replied trying to forget the surprising nervousness that he felt. The door opened and Hans looked up to see him enter.
“My name is Mpho,” the man seductively said as he offered his hand.
Hans got up to shake it. The African seemed to tower over the almost six foot tall Hans. Mpho’s massive and muscular hand engulfed the Afrikaner CEO’s. For a brief second, when they shook, Hans felt Mpho give off a charge of manly sexual electricity that rocked him to his very ball-sack. Hans’ crotch was still tingling as he sat in his chair. The flustered CEO quickly sat down so that his, by his now slightly growing boner, would not be obvious. He gazed in awe at Mpho’s muscled frame. Hans was well built but , Mpho’s body seemed more impressive and, surprisingly, more intimating.
“We …ah…are here…” Hans muttered. He stopped speaking as he found himself staring at the powerfully built man standing right in front of his desk. For some reason his breathing had quickened and his throat was dry. He also realized that his growing discomfort was obvious to Mpho. The other man was watching at him had an amused look on his face. “Could…I offer… you…..a chair,” Hans stammered trying not to let his eyes linger on the well-rounded bulge in Mpho’s crotch.
Mpho smirked and settled into a nearby chair. He casually let his muscular thighs part so the Hans got a full dead-on view of his massive basket.
He must be incredibly hung. Judging by his crotch’s rounded shape, his balls must be equally impressive too, Hans thought even as he tried to concentrate on why they were meeting. He realized that not only was he clearly gazing at Mpho’s crotch but also, to his shock, his mind was fantasizing about servicing it ! Ek is nie 'n laf nie, he told himself. Yet, even mentally assured himself that he wasn’t a faggot, a part of his mind asked why Mpho’s cock held such a visual fascination, Waarom word die gesig van sy haan my opgewonde?
Hans forced himself to raise his eyes to Mpho’s smiling face. God he is stunning , Hans thought as he took in Mpho’s striking features with a fantastic upper body definition that Hans found he envied. Up until today, Hans had prided himself on his defined torso but, compared to this perfectly sculpted black man, he was clearly a poor second rater. In fact, Hans felt puny next to him. His eyes took in how Mpho nipples were outlined in the snugly fitted, deep blue shirt the man wore. As the once smug Afrikaner took in Mpho’s rounded biceps, it hit Hans for the first time in his life, that he was in the presence of a man who was his superior. When Mpho smiled at Hans, the CEO lost it. He sat there feeling an unrestrained lust for this most astonishingly sexy man. Unconsciously Hans reached down to shamelessly rub his growing erection. Suddenly he realized what he was doing. Hans saw Mpho grinning at what he was observing. Hans tried to talk even as his face flushed with embarrassment.
“It’s okay boy,” Mpho chuckled. “You fucking wanaume weupe always react that way to a real black man,” he said using a derogative Swahili term for white men.
Hans lowered his eyes in shame as Mpho got up and walked to stand just inches from him. Hans could smell Mpho’s musky sensual scent. A low pathetic moan escaped from his mouth. He looked up at a grinning African who slowly unzipped his pants and pulled out a thick long black cock. Hans, until now, had never been turned on by a guy, but seeing that black cock so close to his lips rocked his brain. The once haughty CEO was mesmerized by the massive nature of the African’s equipment. His mind knew that he had to taste it! From the throbbing in his cock as he went into a full erection, it was just as obvious his body agreed. Hans mouth opened as his tongue stretched out to savor it.
“Suck it” Mpho snarled as he reached down to push Hans’s willing face deeply into his crotch.
Hans breathed in the intoxicating musky smell of the man’s bush. He took in the taste of this dark hunk’s dick as the scratchy wiry pubic hairs of Mpho’s crotch rubbed into his face.
“We are going do things my way jogoo , you got it?’’ Mpho stated.
A part of Hans cringed being called this black man’s bitch. Yet, in ever growing parts of his brain, he was succumbing to his lust for the African. Losing it completely, the once strictly heterosexual Afrikaner eagerly slurped on his first dick.
“Yeah that’s right you pussy nyeupe ,” Mpho laughed as he let the CEO service him. “You are going do things tonight that will fry your jogoo brain!”
Hans moaned in submission. He was sucking off a black man. For a brief second he thought of how his ancestors would have been appalled by his conduct. Yet, that was soon lost in a new sensation. The idea of how right it felt to be the African’s cum dump jogoo . Hans licked Mpho’s long , thick, dark shaft dick and his hairy ball meat to his heart’s delight. When, at last, Mpho told him it was time to be bred, Hans eagerly got off the chair, sprawled face down across his desk, and spread his pale butt-cheeks to accept the African’s 13 inches into his Afrikaner hole. By now he was fully erect. He shamelessly rubbed his shaft on the very desk that his grandfather and father had once sat behind to build their empire.
“I’m going to breed your Afrikaner rump on the very desk your fucking Afrikaner family used when they fucked my people. Tell me you want my African cock up your jogoo hole,” Mpho snarled as he placed the head of his cock at Han’s anal entryway.
“Fuck me please,” Hans moaned as his outer ring felt the tingling sensation of Mpho’ cock-head rubbing against it.
“ Beg my in Afrikaner so your ancestors can hear it,” Mpho demanded. “I want your grandfather and father to hear their first born heir beg to be a Zulu’s bitch!
“Fok my asseblief, meneer ,” Hans pathetically begged..
“Hell yeah,” Mpho replied as he savagely thrust into Hans.
“ARGH,” Hans yelped as Mpho’s shaft impaled him. “Jou swart haan is fokken my wit gat .”
“That’s right you jogoo. I’m fucking your ass,” Mpho sneered, as he slapped a yelping Hans’ rump till it was flaming red. “First I will breed you then, you will hand over your financial empire to my people. You will be my mtumwa mtiifu from now on. Got it.”
“Oh yes,” Hans howled as his butt got whipped. The hearing himself degrade himself by agreeing to be the man’s submissive sexual slave thrilled him. “Your mtumwa mtiifu ,” he groaned as he thrust his hips up to get Mpho’s manhood deeper into his chute. “Fucking screw my sorry jogoo, Sir,” he begged as he surrendered to his new sexual status.
Mpho’s laughter filled the room. “Breeding you, Afrikaner,” he cried out as he shot his spunk into Hans’s quivering hole.
Feeling the hot seed from the African searing its way deeply into him, became too much for Hans. He felt his balls churn. “God, ek blaas my vrag !,” he cried out as he too creamed. As he popped, Hans humped on the desk so hard that the next day the cleaning crew found a curious set of cracks on the desk’s enameled surface. They also noticed that it had bits of curly blonde hairs embedded in the cracks and something sticky in the groves too. For the next few nights after that, the sounds of paddling and sexual conquest filled the corridors of the executive offices suite as Mpho broke in his new Afrikaner bitch.
****
The next day the papers were filled with the news that Hans’s financial empire had reached an agreement with his worker’s leader. The new plans called for not only a union but also the black worker’s having a controlling say on the company Board. Mpho, The worker’s leader was named the new CEO. More shocking was the report that Hans Brucker signing over his entire family’s shares to, as Hans put it, a true master in business. Reports in the German press abounded that Hans’ 24 yr. old brother Kristof , a hunky, six foot, blond, blue-eyed European soccer star planned to fight the new arrangements. Kristof told reports he intended to fly to the South Africa to confront the African.
“I’ll kick that man’s butt out of our company,” the younger Brucker smugly assured the journalists. “He will feel my boot up his ass so hard you will hear his ‘OOF’ echo in the halls,” Kristof boasted while making sure use a word which was now his trademark. Whenever Kristof played, he would drive the ball between the soccer goal posts, turn to the crowd, grab his crotch, and loudly cry ‘OOF’. “When a woman really gets satisfied it’s that sound you hear from their lips,” the spoiled stud once confided to a magazine article. “When I hear them say ‘OOF’ I know I’ve conquered them!” He boasted in the same article explaining that using it on the field was his way of indicating that he had just satisfactorily fucked his opponents!
“I don’t who this MPHO is but he is not getting our company. I don’t know what got into my brother but this man will learn that no one fucks with me,” he assured his fans at the airport. He grabbed his crotch for them & boarded the plane to their ‘oof’ cheers. A week later however, the papers reported that Kristof had met with the new President and, to everyone’s surprise, he’d also agreed to hand the company and its assets to the African people.
Mpho laughed as he finished reading that item. He gazed over at his bedroom where the just fucked, and now a contented drooling Kristof was sprawled out on a bed with his anal hole and mouth leaking Mpho’s cum. “Things worked out quite nicely,” he said out loud. “My arranging to have Johan join that soccer jock on the flight here and prep him for my meeting really did the trick. A few of my specially treated glasses of whiskey combined with reprogramming worked like a charm on him!”
The handsome black man recalled how the self-proclaimed Germany’s bad boy soccer jock had charged into Mpho’s office screaming for blood. Kristof had arrogantly stood before Mpho making threats. The amused African had casually sauntered up to Kristof getting right into the blond jock’s personal space. After a few minutes being in such close contact with the powerful black man, the young Afrikaner soccer stud suddenly lost his composure and former smugness.
“You okay jogoo ,” Mpho had asked making sure to emphasis the insulting term. As he spoke, he moved closer to Kristof who acted as if he suddenly couldn’t seem to gather his thoughts.
“I…yes…okay…I mean…shit,” Kristof had mumbled even as the young star’s eyes dropped slowly downward to fixate on Mpho’s bulge.
For Mpho, watching that muscular athlete lose his composure was intoxicating. Kristof’s handsome face had gone pale. His rapidly increasing gulps of air showed the African that the hot jock was now his for the taking.
When Mpho had grabbed Kristof’s hand and placed it on his hard dick the young athlete lost it completely. “Was ist los,” he hoarsely said as he tried to understand why this man, or any man, could sexually arouse him
“Go for it boy,” Mpho had ordered him in a matter of fact tone. “You know you want my African cock. Shit you’re turned on, admit it!”
“Oh…fuck,” Kristof had moaned as his own ‘hammer’ rose in excitement. “I…oh…fuck,” the young hunk muttered as he felt Mpho’s powerful basket rise to his touch.
“Go on. Give into it,” Mpho softly said as he reached out and gently pushed down on the young man’s shoulders.
The handsome blonde stud had quickly yielded and sunk down onto his knees. He eagerly thrust his face into Mpho’s crotch to breathe in the funky smell of this dominant black male.
A smirk came to Mpho’s face as he recalled the sense of triumph seeing this arrogant Afrikaner on his knees sniffing at his crotch like a dog in heat. Minutes later Kristoff had stripped off so Mpho could enjoy the sight of that leanly muscular athletic frame.
“Want to taste my African cock? Mpho asked as he reached down to push Kristoff slightly back so he could strip.
“Ja,” a clearly aroused Kristof mumbled as his eyes remanded fixated on Mpho’ crotch. My God, u haan is ongelooflik !” He whispered as Mpho’s dick came into view.
“Yes it is amazing. Now suck it,” Mpho instructed. He grinned at the sight of Kristoff leaning in to take it into his mouth.
For the next ten minutes Kristof received instructions on how to properly give a blow job. Now eager to service the African, the good looking Afrikaner soccer star did everything he was asked. Soon after that, Mpho instructed the once macho soccer stud to lay face down & spread eagle on the desk in the very office where Kristof had sworn to kick Mpho’s butt.
“Fuck me please!” The super hunk had pleaded while spreading his muscled thighs far apart. He got so loud in his entreaties that Mpho had been forced move to Kristof’s head and shove his dick intp the young blonde’s eager mouth just to shut him up. As Kristoff gurgled with Mpho’s dick down his throat, the African had taken in the sight of Kristoff’s rounded firmly packed rump. Even more enticing was the sight of the young Afrikaner’s virginal entryway. Visible between his splayed, well-developed athletic thighs, Kristoff’s untapped pinkish, rosy sphincter had invitingly flexed and contracted under the neon office lights..
“Taking your Afrikaner ass tonight,” Mpho had chuckled as the soccer star’s mouth lubed up the African’s shaft. “You want it bad, right!”
The former bragging jock’s only reply, as his mouth got royally plowed, was a loud slurping sound followed by a nodding head. A now highly motivated Mpho humped him harder as he face-fucked the young ,blonde stud senseless.
“Got me all nice and slick, huh. Got me all ready to tap that sweet ass,” Mpho had said as he pulled out of Kristof’s mouth and moved towards the handsome soccer star’s virginal anal butt-hole.
“My ass,” Kristof had merely hissed as salvia dripped from his bottom lip.
“Yeah, something of mine is going up your ass, jogoo ,” Mpho taunted while recalling the first press interview Kristof had given where he talked about driving a foot up someone’s butt. Mpho positioned himself on top the prone German stud. “But it ain’t a foot getting fucking into someone,” he teased as he violently rammed his meaty monster deeply into the younger Brucker’s tight rosy chute.
“AW FUCK!” Kristof howled as he got his first taste of man-on-man butt banging. Even as his image as being all-man screamed in protest, his powerful legs moved even farther apart. It was as if they had a will of their own. His cries had soon become mews of pleasure. “Oh yes. Oh yes,” the once boastful womanizer replied at each thrust of Mpho’s dick hit his prostate. Thanks to Johan’s hypnotic induction, the once vaunted ladies’ man was turned on to being sodomized.
“Yeah Johan really zapped you jogoo ,” Mpho said as he screwed his prize. He recalled how months ago he had drugged, conquered the white manager’s brain and then programed him to help take down the Brucker’s men. The once macho boasting, patronizing, swaggering, heavily muscled Johan was now a submissive cum dump for a diminutive, somewhat effeminate African worker that he had always mocked. He gazed at Kristof still quivering rump. “I guess you’ve learned that it only a black man can fill that’s sexual need inside of you. Right jogoo !” Mpho had laughed as he fucked into his pale rear entry even harder.
Kristof’s only response to being called a bitch had been a succession of louder, “OOF. OOF. OOF. OOF. OOF. OOF” as Mpho drove his long dark-hued shaft between the soccer boy’s post!
“Yeah,” Mpho had smirked. He continued ravishing the, by now, whimpering Kristof’s hole while reveling in the ‘OOF’s’ coming from Kristof.
Towards the end, Mpho had reached under the young stud and grabbed the younger Brucker’s cock. “Jogoo this is a boy’s equipment. What kind of fucking can it do?” He had taunted the young boy who was now writhing under his body. By now, the blonde jock was lost in mentally processing the new experiences he was undergoing. His brain was quickly adapting to the belief that that his sexual heat was coming from his submission to this African Master.
Kristof had groaned as his brain’s arousal signals went into overdrive. He suddenly realized that he was experiencing how a real man fucks his bitch. The black man’s dick had him stuffed to the hilt. Even fully erect, his own tool felt inferior in comparison. “Just a pathetic jogoo ,” he had sobbed as his old, smugly macho self-image shattered.
“Yes you are,” the African had contemptuously replied as he climaxed into the young man’s guts.
It was at that moment a howling Kristof had creamed like a bitch in heat into Mpho’s calloused hand. “OOOOOOFFFF!” As Kristof yelped his trademark phrase, Mpho howled with laughter!
That night the office echoed with the ‘oof’s’ of the young jogoo soccer star being taught the ways of anally servicing his superior African.
Epilogue:
{Six months later}
Mpho put down the paper in his new executive office & gazed down at his bare feet. There, kneeling before him on the floor, were the handsome Brucker bros. They were naked except for a studded collar of ownership that each now wore. They both also sported a ‘Property of Mpho” tattoo on their hard sculpted butts. Each one was calmly sucking one of Mpho’s toes.
“Good dogs,” Mpho laughed as he pulled out his balls and dick. “Let’s see which of my jogoos gets a bone today. The winner also gets to service a few of the men of my tribe coming by to see me later on!” The office filled with the happy barks of the contented jogoo brothers as each vied to prove himself to his black master and win the right to service his friends. They had at last found their true role!