Author Topic: The Christmas Banquet  (Read 2015 times)

HistBuff
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The Christmas Banquet
« on: November 01, 2021, 04:32:48 AM »
Disclaimer: Rape in reality is despicable and wrong; the author of this story does NOT condone real-life rape in any shape or form. Rape in fiction can be a fun way to explore one's fantasies.

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December 25th 1918.

It was a bitter Christmas in defeated Germany.

Rhineland was occupied by French troops. The men in the Imperial Army—the Deutsches Heer—had been disarmed and sent home.

Their officers kept their Prussian pride. It was the only thing they had left. Of course, the most fortunate ones still had their estates, their assets and their wives and mistresses. Some of them were from centuries-old households.

Such an officer was Herr Graf Ludwig von Öltz, still wearing his feldgrau uniform of Oberstleutnant of the Imperial Army. His rank—equivalent to Lt. Colonel—was conspicuously indicated by his rectangular silver shoulder knots adorned with one gold diamond. He proudly wore his black silver-framed iron cross on his chest. His feldgrau uniform truly became him well, for he was tall and had martial-looking, somewhat handsome facial features.

The Count—Graf, in German—was entertaining a great many guests for Christmas in his large mansion, a four-century old granite manor buried deep in the Black Forest.

Herr Graf Ludwig von Öltz, 46 years old, had just returned from France. He had started the war as a Major commanding a battalion, and he had finished it as a staff officer in some divisional headquarters. He had very grim memories of the horrors he had seen—and done—until his promotion in 1916.

His greatest joy was his family. He had married Wilhelmina in 1892, as a freshly promoted Leutnant, back when she was 18. Now 44, she looked astoundingly young for her years; her gorgeous shiny hair was a dark blonde or subtle light brown depending on the light.

Martha, 22, his elder daughter, had been married for a year. She was the typical German brunette. Kathrin, the youngest one, was a very pretty girl. She had long, amazingly silky black hair and porcelain-pure skin with ice-blue eyes. She was turning 19 on January 1st 1919.

Kathrin had had a host of suitors. The blessed one was a young Leutnant who now sat next to her in his feldgrau evening uniform at the grand dinner table. They were getting engaged.

Leutnant Jürgen von Tripz felt bitter and humiliated about Germany’s final defeat, yet being Kathrin’s future husband gave him a sense of elation. He had made it alive and mostly uninjured through the War. At times, he had been death-scared in the trenches and felt his demise was close at hand, albeit there he was, 25 years old and holding hands with Kathrin!

Many young men had not been so fortunate. All hands said a loud prayer for them before the first course of dinner. 

Times were harsh, but Herr Graf von Öltz still wanted his honoured guests to enjoy Christmas. Thus, pricey and rare dishes were served in this five-course meal. It was a banquet. It was taking place in the ballroom, a large room with a lacquered wooden floor that glistened under the myriad lights from the many chandeliers.

The hundred plus guests sat at eight long tables covered with pure-white linen tablecloths, decorated with holly leaves and mistletoe. The silverware cutlery and the porcelain bowls and platters all glistened under the warm candlelight.

The crystal wine glasses also caught the light and were never empty. The guests quenched their thirst with the finest wines of Rhineland along with some nectars from Italy.

A string quartet played Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert while the guests ate, well attended by a neatly-dressed staff of serving maids and male servants.

All younger men wore their officer’s uniforms. None of them were armed, as it would have been most uncourteous to carry one’s gun or sword at dinner. Besides, this was home! After tasting the horrors of the trenches, the young men felt they were in paradise now.

The elder men wore civilian evening attire—black, sometimes dark grey, brown or dark spruce jackets with queue-de-pie, long and dignified, worn with a white dress shirt and a black necktie or bowtie perfectly knotted on starched detachable white collars. Their elderly wives usually wore what they were used to since their youthful years—extra-long dark dresses that austerely buttoned up to their collars, with full corsets that gave them oddly young-looking figures.

The women sat in noble elegance. The 1910’s women’s fashion favoured a straight, natural dress silhouette. Evening dresses were long and narrow, ankle low, with a belt underlining the waistline and a natural bust shape that was supported by a light underbust corset. The men had a nice show of cock-teasing breast shapes that pushed out in inviting curves under the stylish dress tops, which often displayed an oval- or square-shaped décolleté that sometimes revealed a hint of cleavage.

The virtuous ladies wore their hair tied up high, often in elaborate arrangements with colourful ribbons and adorned with more or less jewellery that complemented their earrings, bracelets and long pearl necklaces. Nonetheless, many young women wore their long hair falling in gorgeous locks on their back.

Over dinner, as rare dishes were being served and eaten, and wine glasses replenished, one of the main conversation topics was Rhineland’s shameful occupation by French troops.

Among these occupying troops were many foreign units from France’s colonies. The Moroccan soldiers were utterly disliked, but the most hated were the Senegalese units.

“Don’t start me on this!” fumed Herr von Öltz. “This is a barbarian invasion! These savages! These negroes! Patrolling our streets! Walking around as bold as brass in broad daylight! I’d... I’d... If only I could... I’d execute half of them by firing squad and send the rest back in their African huts where they belong!” He concluded, pummelling the table hard with a raging fist.

“It is preposterous!” added his wife, comforting her angry husband and trying to calm him down with her dainty hand on his feldgrau forearm sleeve. “It’s completely and utterly PREPOSTEROUS!” she added with emphasis.

“One of these Africans waved at me on the street! It was so gross!” exclaimed the pretty daughter of a Countess, a 20-year-old virgin-looking blonde—the archetypal German Jungfrau.
“I know, Steffi, some of them even dare to gaze at us! It’s INTOLERABLE!” answered her twin sister.

This humiliating occupation of Rhineland by foreign troops was indeed a very hot topic. These troops were rumoured to have done some shocking and debasing things to local women. There were many complaints to the French high command, who off course shrugged it off for lack of proper evidence. They didn’t even hang a couple of negroes as a token show of goodwill.

It was clear that the French enjoyed their revenge and were all too happy to inflict this occupation on the German citizens.

The Germans were deeply hurt in their pride.

On a merrier note, an elderly man proposed a toast to their honoured host, commenting on the excellence of his reception. “As always, Herr Graf, your ancestors look down from Heaven, and they are proud of you!”

Before dessert, Herr Graf von Öltz proudly announced his younger daughter’s engagement to the noble-looking blonde officer who gleefully sat at her side... and quickly looked away from her firm breast shapes that pushed away from her chest under her dark-burgundy dress as he became aware of the general attention focussing on his youthful features.

Many women commented in whispers that Kathrin, who was turning 19 in a few days, was indeed a very lucky girl. Many of them envied her and longingly looked at the handsome officer who quietly drank his wine, his plain silver shoulder pads giving a definite glamorous air of simple elegance to his feldgrau uniform.

The 25-year-old Leutnant Jürgen von Tripz found the wait long and hard to endure. But he knew that she’d be his wife and his possession in less than a year.

Then, a gargantuan black-forest cake was ceremoniously rolled into the ballroom on the lacquered floor. The cake was iced with a thick layer of kirsch-flavoured whipped cream, covered with chocolate flakes and adorned with bright red cherries. It received ohhs and ahhs from the guests as it was smoothly moved on a brass rolling table.

The chef proudly presented it for the occasion, earning hearty cheers and applauses. A Captain proposed a toast to Fräulein von Öltz—the most beautiful, delicate and graceful of all flowers! His gorgeous brunette wife sat beside him; as soon as he was finished with his toast, he whispered to her ear “the most graceful of all flowers... next to my beautiful and lovely wife, who is an orchid among flowers!”

He gently kissed her cheek and stroked her wonderfully shiny midnight black hair, as her passionate sparkly green eyes met his.

“My dearest husband” she whispered back playfully, “wouldn’t you want some alone playtime with this pure and innocent girl? She’s at least ten years younger than your wife and mother of your children!”
“Does my beloved wife know what I am thinking right now?” answered the happy husband echoing her playful tone. Then he stooped toward her and whispered low to her ear... “I would forcibly strip you naked, or at least uncover your gorgeous breasts, and fuck you like a wild animal on this very table, this very moment!”

The Captain’s wife burst out laughing! She quickly whispered back...
“And why wouldn’t you do that? I mean... Why not?!”
“Because, my love, all the other men present wouldn’t be able to resist your charms; they would all want to take their turn on you after I’m done!”

Now the raven-haired Baroness was laughing her head out. Her husband dismissed the inquiring looks of his table neighbours by jesting... “Oh, we’re always playful and merry when we drink wine! You know how it goes...”

The men laughed and jested back. At least in this part of the room, the atmosphere had gone much happier and merrier, as it was fit for a Christmas dinner.

This being said, the Captain was right in his premises. Most of the husbands who sat near him often peeked at his wife’s breast shapes and her wide square décolleté, which revealed the richness and silkiness of her pale ivory complexion.

They would indeed very gladly fuck her on this table at this very moment! Once they’d be back in their homes, they would fuck their wife while playing this fantasy. The Captain was pretty darn sure of this. As for him, he’d be in bed with her, yet he’d picture both of them having unrestrained sex on this white-clothed table amid the silverware and glistening crystal glasses, their copulating action on full display!

After their break, where the host congratulated them for their magnificent performance and gave them time to eat a bite and enjoy for themselves some of this delicious black-forest cake, the string quartet resumed their play with a happy tune, making the now-merrier atmosphere all the more leaning on mirth and laughter.

The guests were finishing dessert, sipping coffee and chatting mostly about arts and literature, at last forgetting the grim military matters. Most guests were also drinking schnapps. Even the children were allowed some alcohol, since it was Christmas.

The front double doors suddenly burst open and a horde of black-faced soldiers invaded the ballroom, forcing everyone present to turn their heads and look at them with an expression of shocked surprise painted on their white faces.

Their surprise was quickly replaced with loathing, contempt and anger.

These soldiers were wearing French uniforms—the famed “Poilu” uniform, its powder-blue color sharply contrasting with their midnight-dark faces and the blackness of their hands holding their Lebel Model 1886 rifles. There was so many of them!

The African soldiers formed a menacing dark mass that poured in the large room and quickly encircled the eight banquet tables, blocking all exits.

The first German men who recovered from the shock got up to their feet and began loudly protesting at the invaders. Each yelling man had several French rifles pointed at him.
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” thundered Herr Graf Ludwig von Öltz, speaking in French to a middle-aged French officer who was no doubt the commander of these African troops.

This French officer was wearing a dark blue kepi with five golden stripes around the upper part of it, which marked him as a full Colonel. Above the five stripes, the uppermost part of the kepi was scarlet. Beside him walked a much younger officer who wore three stripes on his kepi—a Captain.

The German Lt. Colonel repeated his question...
“COLONEL! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?! I WILL GLADLY SPEAK TO YOU, BUT FOR GOD’S SAKE TELL YOUR MEN TO LEAVE!”

The French commander looked like the typical, average sized middle-aged Frenchman, sporting a grey beard and a neatly trimmed moustache and looking at Herr Graf through small gold-rimmed round glasses. He had the air of a peaceful Parisian on a quiet Sunday afternoon, except he wore a Colonel’s uniform and he had a rather sinister expression on his gaunt face.

He ordered his men to stay still. The entire ballroom fell silent. It was now packed with Senegalese soldiers with stern faces and ominous-looking rifles who kept a sharp look-out on the powerless guests.

“Herr Graf Ludwig von Öltz! Merry Christmas to you!”
“M... Merry Christmas, Colonel... But you have the advantage of me... I don’t remember being acquainted with you!” Herr Graf Ludwig von Öltz spoke fluent French.

“You don’t know me?! Well, this is strange! You were our honoured guest when you paid a visit at my mansion, four years ago, when you and your men were advancing toward the Marne. I was away serving my country, but my wife made sure you had a pleasant stay. I am Colonel Ronchon du Buys! Does that ring a bell?”

Herr Graf Ludwig von Öltz confusedly remembered indeed spending some time in French mansions in August and early September 1914 when the Germans were advancing deep in Northern France and threatening Paris, before being stopped at the First Battle of the Marne.

There was some unease in his voice when he replied...
“Is... Is this some practical joke?! I don’t remember hearing that name and I don’t remember seeing you either, but since it’s Christmas, I’ll be a good sport and entertain you, you and your... men. But first...”
“Oh, that is most generous of you, Herr Graf! But you WILL entertain us, perhaps more than you bargained for! Now, let me refresh your memory a little... You and your men came to my mansion on August 25th 1914. My wife, my eldest daughter—this man’s wife (he pointed at the 30-year-old Captain who stood at his right)—as well as two of my beautiful nieces and of course all my servant maids... They all have an ever-enduring memory of your visit!”

Herr Graf Ludwig von Öltz suddenly became ghastly pale. Now he remembered!

He was a young Major and was certain France would soon capitulate and he’d be spending Christmas home! He had told his men and officers that a nice little celebration would be very fitting. They had plundered the wine stores and then brutally and repeatedly gang-raped all the women they had laid their hands on. He personally remembered raping a gorgeous young wife—he had noticed her alliance—with light brown hair and charms that he fondly fapped on ever since. She had been an incredible fuck!

“... You do remember! Yes, you remember now, Herr Graf! You do!”
“It... It was War! People do all sorts of things in war...”
“... Oh, but it’s still war! For me! My war ends tonight in this very house of yours!”

Colonel Ronchon du Buys looked intently at his wife’s rapist, the distinguished host known as Herr Graf Ludwig von Öltz, who was now ghastly pale in his feldgrau uniform. Then Herr Graf understood WHY this officer was here with all these... savages wearing the powder-blue enemy’s uniform.

“NO!!!!” he yelled at the Colonel.
“No?! Why not? It is my turn to pay you a visit, and it will be my turn to... make myself at home!”
“NOO!! Please! I apologize for any pain I may have caused you! I will give you money! Compensation! But please! Don’t do this! YOU CAN’T! NOT WITH THESE ANIMALS!” Herr Graf spoke this last sentence while looking at the Senegalese men.

Colonel Ronchon smiled as he watched the host and his guests, who also started to UNDERSTAND what was about to take place.

Many of the Germans were fluent in French and they had heard the two colonels, and as they connected the dots and filled in the blanks, they became positively terrified.

The German men looked at the black soldiers, then they looked at their wives... The German women looked at their husbands and realized how powerless they really were, then they looked at the Senegalese troops and started screaming! Some women fainted.

Everything went so fast it felt like happening all at once!

Colonel Ronchon gave his last orders...
“EXECUTE THE PLAN! EXECUTE THE PLAN!” his stentorian voice was heard over the tumult. The younger officer and the Sergeants relayed the order to the rank and file of Senegalese Tirailleurs, who systematically used their rifle butts to beat up any resisting man while others rounded up the prisoners, and others still blocked all issues.

There was a great many black soldiers already in the ballroom, yet even more of them poured in.

The two French officers supervised everything with a keen eye, with their pistols drawn, watching with great delight the noble German officers being clubbed down with rifle butts and/or immediately falling to their knees as the Senegalese soldiers ordered them to.

As they were on their knees being tied up with their hands behind their back, they witnessed their wives being grabbed and rounded up in one corner of the room, near a tall Christmas tree. The black men forced kissed and groped some of the richly dressed ladies, who loudly protested and screamed in terror, but they didn’t assault them further.

Colonel Ronchon had minutely prepared this home invasion. First, he had ascertained who was this Major who had raped his wife and daughter, and since he knew that this officer had a mansion in Rhineland, he had volunteered to command a Senegalese battalion over there. It was a much lesser position than his rank entitled him to, but he didn’t care.

The Senegalese were far too numerous and well armed for the German men to oppose any meaningful resistance. Before long, the efficient soldiers had placed rows of the sturdy banquet chairs on the far side of the room and they had swiftly tied up all the men there, where they could see the entire room.

Colonel Ronchon enjoyed every second of it, listening with unadulterated glee to Herr Graf’s raging vociferations and racial slurs, as the Senegalese men firmly tied up his arms and legs to his chair. All the men present were similarly dealt with.

The forty plus men looked like dignified opera goers sitting on their mahogany chairs and anxiously waiting for the performance to begin, except they were tied up and screaming with rage as they watched their bawling wives being herded to the opposite corner of the room by smiling Senegalese soldiers, who took petty liberties with them.

Other soldiers were busy emptying six tables and hoarding everything—saucers, coffee pots, half-drunk coffee cups and schnapps flutes, etc., etc.—on the remaining two tables, which they swiftly lifted and carried and put down near a far wall. A pair of empty 15th-century gothic armours pointlessly stood watch over the grotesquely loaded tables.

At the centre of the room now stood six empty tables, each about eighteen feet long, rather near to the captive men, where they had a perfectly clear view of them. The tablecloths looked immaculate white with a tinge of tawny under the myriad chandelier lights bathing the wooden ballroom.

The staff from the kitchen was also herded in the room, as well as all the servant maids and the male servants, including the sixty-year-old butler. The soldiers went through all the other rooms and came back with the stable boys and the gardener.

The lead musician of the string quartet asked the Colonel if they could leave, as their services were clearly no longer required.

Colonel Ronchon smiled and whispered something to his ear. Whatever the French officer told him, he grinned and went back to the three other musicians. They all sat, took their violins—the leader with his violoncello—and they started to play Pachelbel’s Canon (https://youtu.be/Z-5KGs0MJVU).

The refined tune of their music mingled with the captive men’s raging abuses and racial slurs and the women’s horrified wails.

The Colonel then ordered that all the underage children be taken upstairs in rooms where they would be kept under guard and served hot chocolate and provided with decks of cards, games of chess and all other such sorts of entertaining games.

The elderly women were offered to accompany the children upstairs, but a surprising number refused and insisted to stay in the ballroom.


As soon as the children were gone, the real banquet began!

Accompanied by the string quartet’s music mixed with the powerless husband’s threats and screams of rage, the glamorously styled and dressed ladies and damsels let out shrill screams of panic as a multitude of black-faced grinning soldiers ruthlessly seized and dragged/carried each and everyone of them to the centre of the room, where most of them were shoved on top of the white-clothed tables—while the few remaining women were forced to lay down on the floor—and their arms got firmly pinned and restrained by the smiling soldiers who started assaulting their long refined dresses!

“NEIN! NEIN! IHR HAT KEIN RECHT!!! NEIIIIN!!!” (NO! NO! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!) Martha, the typical German brunette and Herr Graf’s eldest daughter, screamed and begged the Senegalese soldiers as a forest of dark brown hands brutally ripped open her dark-green dress top, which exploded in wide-open curtains of ruined garment to reveal the delicate fabric of her snow-white lace chemise, the refined undergarment showing flower patterns for a fleeting second before a Senegalese pair of dark hands brutally tore it off her chest, putting Martha’s perky breasts on a sudden display of ivory-white quivering nakedness. “NEIN! NEIN! ... NEIN! ... NEIIIIN!!!”...

Her husband looked down and sobbed, shamed by her shrill screams.

As Martha kept struggling amid the pack of grinning negroes, more and more of her off-limits erotic body was revealed to the rank and file with sounds of tearing fabric under the tawny-tinged light of the chandeliers; her small delicate nipples danced an up-tempo minuet amid pale areolas on top of her moving breasts, quickly assaulted and kneaded by African hands as she shrieked in echoing notes of horrified despair and the Senegalese soldiers violently ripped her evening gown down her torso, hips and legs, doing away with her silk belt, before savagely breaking open the busks of her jade-green underbust corset and then discarding the ruined piece of undergarment.

Most of these soldiers had already undressed and used a white woman, but it had been at a brothel. Now they wanted to see how a girl from the elite looked like naked!

Martha kept bawling, squirming and begging them to stop in her native German as they finished yanking her torn lace chemise off her legs and feet. Her delicate emerald-green evening shoes—low heel lady’s shoes—had gone off her feet during her brutal undressing.

Their eyes feasting on Martha’s pale naked body, the Senegalese soldiers undid their pants and quickly freed their raging-hard cocks, which had Martha’s green eyes wide-open in sheer terror!

They smiled and commented how gorgeous she looked, comparing her to some whores they had used in Paris. Martha’s shapely legs and feet were now on full display for anyone who had those sorts of fetish. Her luxuriant, yet delicate patch of cunt hair looked like a black velvet triangle that highlighted the brightness of her pale skin.

She desperately tried to kick the rugged men off with her gracious dainty feet, which caught a black soldier on his side, and only succeeded in making him laugh.

Organically, his mates let the hit soldier be the first man inside Martha. Taking a powerful hold on Martha’s delicate ankles, the black man stopped her legs from moving and brutally spread them wide open! Then he immediately wedged himself between her silky-soft thighs and against her crotch.

Martha shrieked “NEIN! NEIN!... NEEEEIIIIIIN!!!” as her head shook in utter panic while many other wives and maids were already getting raped and filling the ballroom with their despaired whimpers and wails under the black men’s forcefully imposed copulating.

To punish Martha of her kick attempts, the Senegalese soldier decided not to lube his dick, which was already precumming, so he immediately inserted it inside her and much to his surprise, found she was soaking wet inside as he forcefully entered her.

“Looks like she’s enjoying this in secret!” the man thought as he firmly seized Martha’s slender waist and bellowed a wild roar of victory as he began to furiously pound her on the table.   

Just beside Martha’s ordeal, the Baroness—the raven-haired wife of the Captain who had playfully whispered to her about the concept of banging her amid the silverware and crystal glasses—was herself getting banged by a rape-frenzied Senegalese Corporal who was grunting in loud satisfaction as he enjoyed this 30-year-old wife who still retained a good deal of her virginal tightness, which made whoring her on that table an extremely enjoyable experience!

Like Martha, the Baroness had her arms pinned on the table and her body was utterly shaken from the savage pounding she was taking. As the Senegalese Corporal delivered all his strength and power into each of his quickly repeated hip thrusts, the Baroness’s wonderful black hair moved in tumultuous shiny waves on the contrasting white tablecloth as her head kept bobbing on the table, under the jeers of the soldiers firmly restraining her tiny wrists while watching and assaulting her firm perky breasts that kept jiggling in a mind-bogglingly erotic show of moving pink-brownish nipples!

She was still wearing her long white pearl necklace, and this piece of jewellery underscored her brutal reversal of fortune, thus intensifying the erotic power of her nakedness and feeding the erection of the negro who was presently using her like a common whore.

Martha kept furiously shaking her beautiful head of brown hair—slightly less dark than the Baroness’s—and screaming her revolt and refusal of her fate... “NEIN! NEIN! NEIN!... NEEEEEEIIIN!!!...” as the happy Senegalese soldier kept drilling her noble-born vagina. Before long, his black dick exploded inside the Graf’s daughter and his echoing roar of bliss mingled with the refined notes from the string quartet’s violins, as he unloaded several shots of steaming jizz deep inside the violated privileged wife!

He was immediately replaced by another grinning negro, who feverishly inserted his African meat inside Martha and started banging her with unrestrained glee, trying to surpass his mate and raping her urgently, almost angrily.

Firmly pinned on the table under the black men’s iron clutches, the nude Baroness was shaken nonstop from the relentless pounding, forced to constantly hear the entire room being filled with the other women’s screams, hers and her rapist’s animalistic grunts... She felt unfathomable shame, which was intensified hundredfold when her black rapist screamed like a banshee and she immediately felt the warm stickiness of his vile seed flooding her vagina as he blissfully shot his bolts of cum!

The Corporal was then replaced... by a French officer?!

Captain Joubert, Colonel Ronchon’s son-in-law, was so eager to rape the Baroness that he didn’t mind having sloppy seconds. Truth be told, watching her getting raped by one of the Senegalese rank and file had only hardened his raging erection.

Thus, the Captain groaned in utter joy and satisfaction as he speared himself between her silky pale thighs and immediately forced his dick inside her cum-dripping pussy! He fucked the Baroness with unrestrained abandon and quickly reached his climax; he looked at her jiggling breasts and her glistening pearl necklace as he blissfully felt his warm bolts of semen powerfully unloading inside her dishonoured virtue!

Raping these Baroninnen and Gräfinnen was so much fun!

The entire ballroom resonated with shrill horrified screams and wails and whimpers, refined violin notes, groans of cumming men and angry German racial slurs while the Senegalese battalion had their way with every single one of the fifty plus women present, ages ranging from 18 to above 70—wives, wenches, serving maids and respectable-looking mothers... and also grandmothers who had not been given such loving attention by young men in a very long time.

Most women were gang-raped naked or half naked with their back pinned on a table, but some Senegalese men wanted a display of white butt, so they had their screaming girl bent over and used her standing doggystyle, bucking her like an African beast while admiring the shaking whiteness of her invaded butt repeatedly colliding against their lap while the sobbing wench or lady got repeatedly slammed against the table in frenzied copulating action, until the happy negro cummed hard inside her, only to be replaced by another negro so her bent-over ordeal resumed and her entire body got shaken again while her helpless head slid sideways on the stained tablecloth, with her ass cheeks smeared with the Senegalese cum that had spilled over it when some exhilarated rapist had exited her.

Whenever a shorter, petite woman was chosen for a bent-over fuck, she was forced to kneel on a chair so her exposed cunt was in line with her rapist’s intruding black dick.

It was a beautiful abuse! The German Baronesses and Countesses that prided themselves with their French-inspired glamorous refinement only an hour before, took three full-blown waves of horny Senegalese rapists as their husbands, fathers, brothers, fiancés and other male relatives were forced to watch in shame—and sometimes with secret arousal—as they sat powerless, tied up as they were to their elegant dark-wood chairs.



Colonel Ronchon had spent the previous two weeks observing the Graf’s house, and he knew from the start who he was going to rape first—Kathrin, Herr Graf’s youngest daughter!

As soon as the first wave of rapes had started, he had gone for her like a lustful fiend. She had screamed at the top of her voice when the Colonel personally ripped her dress-top off her breasts with a savage fury! He had then immediately tore off the light white fabric of her lace chemise...

The 18-year-old girl’s naked boobs immediately appeared in their full blossoming curves, displaying pale nipples of modest size atop jiggling mounds as she squirmed and bawled under her captors’ clutches and the Colonel’s anticipation-filled gaze!

Her father was watching it all only 10 yards away! And he couldn’t do anything about it!

While two jeering Senegalese soldiers kept Kathrin’s arms pinned on the table on either sides of her head, which she frantically shook, screaming and repeating “NEIN! NEIN! IHR DURFT NICHT! IHR DURFT NICHT!!! NEEEEIIIIN!!!” (NO! NO! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED! YOU MAY NOT! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!) ... the Colonel forcefully pulled her narrow long dress all the way up along with the bottom of her lace chemise, tucking it all up in a chaos of pricey fabric against her silk belt, and completely exposing her slender, shapely white legs!

As she had been wearing a dark burgundy-red dress that beautifully complemented her shiny jet-black hair, the Colonel had decided he was going to rape her half-naked so he could contemplate this deep burgundy red along with the whiteness of her flesh and the blackness of her hair as he’d be raping her—it would feel like raping Lady Fortune!

Kathrin’s evening shoes had fallen from her feet amid the scuffle, so her nice display of girly legs was augmented by her amazing pair of small feet! The barefoot teenage girl drove the Colonel mad with savage lust!

Her fiancé, Leutnant Jürgen von Tripz, was tied up and sitting and raging right next to Herr Graf. He saw a glance of Kathrin’s black cunt hair before the Colonel’s body completely obscured the view. This caused him to grow a massive erection under his uniform pants!

Enjoying Kathrin’s frantic screaming and squirming as she loudly begged them to spare her virginity (Ich bin Jungfrau! Ich bin Jungfrau!... I’m virgin! I’m virgin!), the vengeful Colonel swiftly undid his pants and stuck out his raging erection.

Then, after liberally lubing his cock with spit, he found Kathrin’s entrance and pushed his cock against it and almost got deafened by the girl’s shrieks of pain as she felt her marriage-promised sanctum invaded by the middle-aged French officer!

The Colonel let out a satisfied roar as he felt himself suddenly all the way in!

He heard Herr Graf screaming with rage and grief and sorrow as he gleefully started pounding Kathrin on the pure-white table, raping her like a savage with animalistic grunts while contemplating the jiggling of her teenage-firm perky breasts while she kept frantically screaming and shaking her head from side to side in complete refusal of her fate.

The virgin’s tightness was off-the-charts amazing!

He kept pounding her with unrestrained abandon, sensing he wasn’t going to last long in such a tight vagina! The sobbing young girl shook under her unbridled rape, tears of sorrow flowing from her ice-blue eyes.

He suddenly cummed hard, screaming his joy and revenge-loaded fulfillment as he shot plentiful bolts of his seed inside the defiled and sobbing noble maid! He kept pounding her all the while his warm shots of cum spurted out of his contented dick!

Then the Colonel finally exited his deflating dick out of the sobbing girl... and her father’s humiliation got even worse—the next man who replaced the Colonel was a Senegalese Sergeant, who lost no time in inserting his hard African meat inside wailing Kathrin!

Herr Graf Ludwig von Öltz thus witnessed the unspeakable gang-rape of his youngest daughter at the hands of these dark savages! While two smiling Senegalese soldiers held her delicate arms pinned on the table, the third soldier raped her, facing her and firmly holding her slender thighs, the graceful whiteness of which wildly brushed against the powder-blue flanks of the black man’s uniform as he frantically pounded her with unrestrained frenzy!

These Senegalese men were sex starved. Many of them actually preferred black women, like the wives waiting for them in dark Africa; another great many of them felt extreme exhilaration at becoming intimate with these aristocratic white girls who were normally off-limits and heavens-high above them.

Kathrin wailed and sobbed as the Senegalese Sergeant groaned and dumped his load of polluting seed inside her. She couldn’t bear this! Neither did her father!

Another Senegalese man took her silky thighs and bucked her on the table and soon released his seed inside her in a groaning finish of frantic copulating hip thrusts, then another black man raped Kathrin, cummed hard inside her... Then another one, then another...

A soldier brought a bottle of schnapps and poured some on Kathrin’s jiggling breasts, then he stooped down and proceeded to lick it off her moving mounds of flesh. The taste was priceless! Peach schnapps mixed with a horrified girl’s sweat and perfume! This became a trend. Here and there amid the wild orgy of rapes, schnapps or port-wine was poured on the white moving mounds of some violated maid or wife, then she got further assaulted by avid tongues while her rapist was relentlessly banging her with his loaded African dick!

After she had taken five or six black men inside her, Kathrin let herself be used without screaming nor resisting anymore; head bobbing on the white tablecloth, her sharply contrasting black hair shining in waves of despaired surrender, her bright white moving breasts, wet with schnapps, constantly licked by some soldier and jiggling wildly between the wide-open burgundy-red curtains of her torn dress... the noble-born Kathrin was utterly defiled and shaken nonstop under unrestrained pounding amid the pack of Senegalese soldiers who used her like their obedient cum dump.

Her father, Herr Graf, had closed his eyes and sobbed like a child, while he was still forced to hear the whimpers of his dear Kathrin getting used in such an unthinkable way.

Two tables away, his own wife was being raped nonstop by wave after wave of hard Senegalese dicks. She was one of the women whom they had chosen to bend over the table to bang her doggystyle. Since she was short, they had her kneeling on a chair.

In spite of her four decades of age, Frau Gräfin Wilhelmina von Öltz had an absolutely gorgeous body! The black men marvelled as they stripped the dark-blonde Gräfin and her glorious nakedness was revealed under their dark hands, in front of their unbelieving eyes!

There wasn’t much haughty pride left in her as the Senegalese troops took turns in whoring her from behind, each and every one of them greatly enjoying the view on the smooth round curves of her ivory-cream butt as it got repeatedly slammed and shaken from being pounded by a sharply contrasting black dick!

All the time she was used, she sometimes kept repeating “This is preposterous!... Preposterous!...” but most of the time, she whimpered under the overwhelming force of her constantly renewed defilement.

Each Senegalese man screamed with delight as he felt the unspeakable relief of cumming hard inside this off-limits Gräfin!

When he took his turn on her and then forcefully cummed inside her, a Corporal screamed, in French... “AH OUI ! ENCORE DE LA BITE DE NÈGRE POUR MADAME LA COMTESSE !” (OH YES! ANOTHER SHOT OF NEGRO DICK FOR MADAM THE COUNTESS!)


The naked white skin of all the defiled women took a subtle tinge of gold under the tawny lights of the chandeliers and mural oil lamps.

The entire room was a pandemonium of shrill female screams, black men’s jeering, roaring and grunting, German men screaming insults and racial slurs and tables creaking under the forceful gang-rapes!

All this time, the string quartet kept playing; they were presently on the tune of the famous Handel-Halvorsen Passacaglia (https://youtu.be/zgEUrKY8jDs).

The French Captain freely indulged in his voyeuristic pleasures as he waited for his erectile ability to recover, planning on having a third fuck with the Baroness, who was yet again whimpering with her back on the table while one black man after another used her and filled her up with his savage seed.

Everywhere he looked, swarms of black men were gang-raping a German woman! Her pale nakedness was lost amid a sea of black flesh and powder-blue uniforms, her body was tossed and shaken under the tumult and her noble womanhood had been forced into a cum dump for free use by the black troops!

It was such a beautiful scene of abuse for him and his vengeful father-in-law!

The serving maids were not spared either. Most of them were young and beautiful, and the Senegalese rapists found that their bodies were just as attractive and soft to the touch as the noble ladies.

The elderly women who had chosen to stay—and there were quite a few of them—hadn’t had such young men pumping their dicks inside them in a very long time. They didn’t resist that much when they were tossed onto the table and had their arms pinned and their dresses forcibly pulled up just the same as their younger and cuter counterparts.

The Senegalese troops were so horny that age didn’t matter to them. They cummed just as hard inside the grandmothers as they did inside unmarried maids. Besides, some silver-haired ladies displayed surprisingly good-looking butt, legs and feet!

The giant black-forest cake had been only half-eaten when the Senegalese battalion stormed the place. Now there was nothing left on the giant silver platter! For most of the black soldiers, this was the first time they ate this delicious German dessert. Then, one soldier had an idea—he smeared some kirsch-flavoured whipped cream on the Baroness’s quivering breasts and licked it off!

This became a new trend, and a good portion of the left-over cake was employed as a rape-flavour intensifier. Many Countesses were positively shocked at seeing that these black savages were capable of such improbable refinement in their sensual delights.

On a coarser note, some black soldiers felt like giving a supreme humiliation to the noble wenches and ladies whom they had seen looking down on them as they were patrolling some street; they decided to make them taste their cum! However, they feared these defiled ladies would bite their dicks, since a lot of them felt that being gang-raped by a horde of Senegalese men was a fate worse than death, so they’d rather die.

Nonetheless, any Senegalese man who wanted to inflict such humiliation simply masturbated above the girl's face while she was being raped, then he shot his load and gave her a piece of unfathomable debasement as he let spill his cumshot all over her face!

Aiming at her ajar mouth was difficult, since the lady’s head was constantly bobbing from her nonstop forceful rapes. But many tried their luck, and this new trend became some form of informal contest among the celebrating Senegalese rank and file!

These cumshots were doubly satisfying for them as the powerless fathers, husbands and brothers were forced to watch; most German men kept their eyes closed, but some of them let their dark secret side take over and watched it all, feeling an overwhelming erection pushing hard against their pants.

Kathrin was humiliated in this manner. She received loads of Senegalese cum on her face and some of it made it in her ajar mouth and had her almost retching with disgust from the vile rancid taste, all this before the very eyes of her father and fiancé! She cried rivers of tears as yet another grinning black man dumped his semen on her pretty face.



In the upstairs room where the children were kept under a rotating guard, who were replaced every hour so they could also go to the ballroom and join in the fun, the kids were playing cards on small tables.

The newcomer guards had just gangraped Gräfin Wilhelmina, wife of their unwilling host. They smiled a mile wide in a full display of white African teeth that highlighted the blackness of their face. Under their powder-blue uniform trousers, their dicks were still dripping with fresh cum.

One of them took a look at a game of cards that four children—two boys and two girls—were playing with a peculiarly beautiful deck of cards, which was a rare specimen, manufactured by hand in Nuremberg.  On the table, the Queen of Spades was completely surrounded by a swarm of black cards of low value—all cards of clubs or spades ranging in value from 2 to 7.

“This game is fun!” said the first boy.
“I don’t think so!” replied one of the girls.
“My mother wouldn’t want me to play such a stupid game!” added the second girl.
“Your mother is too busy celebrating downstairs!” said the last boy.

The Senegalese guard had no idea of what they were saying in their German. He nonetheless contemplated the four Queens with weird fascination.

“Sehr schön!” (very beautiful!) he said, ridiculously mispronouncing these two words, and pointing at the feminine cards with his dark brown index.... They were indeed magnificently crafted. Each Queen had its unique features, vibe and outfit. Each was holding a different flower.

The Queen of Clubs was holding a fleur-de-lis.
The Queen of Diamonds had four poppies in her dainty hand.
The Queen of Hearts was looking at a rose.
The Queen of Spades was holding an orchid.


Downstairs, in the ball room, the first, second and third waves of rapes had been consummated. The defiled ladies and maids were lying down, half-dead with exhaustion, either stark naked or half-naked with shreds of formerly glamorous dresses now ill-covering their most private body parts. Loads of negro cum were spilling from their over-whored entrances and polluting the now-dirty tablecloths.

The Colonel’s men were now rape-tired and recovering, while the German husbands, fathers and brothers were still sobbing bitterly on their prisoner’s seats. Under strong guard, they were mercifully escorted to the water closets, a few men at a time, then tied up again to their chair upon their return as the next few prisoners were untied and escorted whereto they would—at last—relieve their bladders or bowels.

The Colonel began to play fun games. He began by congratulating the musicians of the string quartet. As payment for their performance, he allowed them to pick anyone among the fine ladies present in the room!

The string quartet men chose Herr Graf’s two daughters, Martha and Kathrin.

In a surreal scene, their beautiful Jungfrau’s bodies became playthings for the musicians, who were also men with large dicks and unfulfilled basic needs. They raped Martha and Kathrin and greatly enjoyed filling them up with their semen, after which they got neatly dressed again and shook hands with the French Colonel before taking their leave.

All the male servants and stable boys were also given the go!

They all rushed at the youngest and prettiest women like a pack of complete savages! These Caucasian males surpassed the Senegalese in savagery as they each took their turns on their chosen prey! Many secretly harboured desires were fulfilled on that fateful night.

The raven-haired Baroness felt like she was going to die from being debased by such vulgar men! The same servant who had been so deferent toward her during the dinner was now furiously pounding her like a whore on the lacquered wooden floor! When he was done and had emptied his balls inside her, two stable boys grabbed her, flipped her over on all fours and began raping her doggystyle with unfathomable delight.

She tried to block the vile sounds from her mind as she heard her horse-smelling rapist bellowing his roar of bliss as he burst inside her and flooded her vagina with his vulgar seed.

It was now well past 4 A.M., as indicated by a stately grandfather clock on the far wall.

The Colonel announced one last fun game! The wives and other young ladies were to be paraded on full display for an auction sale among the Senegalese soldiers and the male servants! He made the announcement both in French and in German, so all could understand.

This announcement stirred a renewed concert of loud outcries of powerless anger and rage. The laughing Colonel ignored them and ordered the soldiers to escort the ladies to the bathrooms, where they would attend their basic natural needs and then quickly wash themselves. Then, they were to be escorted back in the ballroom to be paraded stark naked!

The Senegalese men’s trench boots escorted the pitter-patter of the barefoot ladies out of the room. They came back 20 minutes later. All the women and wenches were Eve nude. They were met with Senegalese jeers and catcalls.

One by one, they had to climb and walk back and forth on top of a table. The elderly women were civilly helped onto the table by some benevolent black soldiers.

The Colonel would write a number on a piece of paper and show it to the Captain. Then the men would bid by raising their hands. The bids started at one Mark and went up in one-Mark increments until the written number was reached.

No actual payment was made and all captive women remained free to have for the troops, but it proved quite entertaining to watch all these aristocratic ladies walking nude on the white-clothed table, on full display to be “sold”!

The low selling prices and the one-Mark increments added to their sense of debasement.

At one point, they decided to remove the tablecloth in order to hear the pitter-patter of the girl’s feet walking directly on the oak tabletop, as it was much sexier!

The soldier or servant who had “bought” the lady would then immediately consummate his “purchase” and fuck her any way he wanted. By that time, the women were far too exhausted to offer much resistance, so there was a lot of one-on-one copulating at that point.

Martha was thus raped by the sixty-year-old butler, who had been with the family for thirty years. As he fucked her missionary style on the floor, he kept screaming that he had been dreaming of this for years! He let out a long-sustained groan of joy as he powerfully ejaculated deep inside his employer’s daughter!

It was a lot of fun!

The Senegalese battalion played and entertained themselves with all these noble women until dawn.

Then they left the German mansion as suddenly as they had invaded it.

The story was so horrific and unbelievable that many Germans themselves dismissed it as wild rumours and the French authorities did as much. The Colonel was promoted once back in Paris.

It had been a bitter Christmas in defeated Germany.


THE END.

Note: This was originally posted as part of a contest with the three following themes---orchid, invasion, display. The pictures were added after the contest.
« Last Edit: November 01, 2021, 03:07:56 PM by HistBuff »

Offline To-Get-Her

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Re: The Christmas Banquet
« Reply #1 on: November 01, 2021, 02:21:03 PM »
What a self contained story! Missed and was surprised that you didn't go to the Christmas cliché of having someone going "Ho Ho Ho!" Love the use of actual string quartette music and that the musicians were allowed a party favor of their own in lieu of payment merit awarded from me!
When I get around to it, I'll write

Offline Rainbow
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Re: The Christmas Banquet
« Reply #2 on: November 02, 2021, 12:58:30 AM »
 :emot_wow.gif: :emot_101010.gif:  Very well written hot fantasy . Merit from me!  :emot_wow.gif:
If she can‘t breathe, she can‘t scream !

HistBuff
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Re: The Christmas Banquet
« Reply #3 on: November 03, 2021, 06:48:35 AM »
What a self contained story! Missed and was surprised that you didn't go to the Christmas cliché of having someone going "Ho Ho Ho!" Love the use of actual string quartette music and that the musicians were allowed a party favor of their own in lieu of payment merit awarded from me!

Thanks again To-Get-Her!

HistBuff
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Re: The Christmas Banquet
« Reply #4 on: November 03, 2021, 06:49:10 AM »
:emot_wow.gif: :emot_101010.gif:  Very well written hot fantasy . Merit from me!  :emot_wow.gif:

Thanks Rainbow! Much obliged!