Hogan's Heroes XXX

A beautiful summer day at Stalag 13, a prisoner of war camp in the Bavarian countryside. Kommandant Wilhelm Klink marched six Allied captives along the perimeter fence, with highly trained SS sharpshooters gazing down at them from watchtowers. Ready to blow them away if they tried to escape and rejoin the democratic invaders who were blasting their way across Vichy France, eager to pump Hitler himself full of lead.

"Hut zwei-drei-vier, hut zwei-drei-vier!" Klink barked in his native tongue, adjusting his ridiculous gold-chained monocle. "I'm whipping you American softies into shape, so you'll be strong as Krupp's steel in service of Deutschland.It's just a matter of time your yankee comrades fall to their knees and kissder Fuhrer'sjackboots!"

"Fat chance, Herr Klink," muttered Colonel Robert Hogan, a charming playboy from Detroit. "Eisenhower is Howitzer-ing your 'master race' troops to kingdom come, gaining another mile every fucking day."

"The west is the bloody best!" beamed Corporal Peter Newkirk, a whimsical fighter pilot from England. "Dwight is bright, and Goebbels is a goofball."

"Enough! I will tolerate no more disrespect ofmein Vaterland!" grunted Colonel Klink. "Less yakking, more marching."

The P.O.W.'s reluctantly picked up the pace, hustling up a hill covered with beautiful white edelweiss flowers. They glanced down at a wooded valley beyond the fence and saw the smoking green chimneys of a secret Axis munitions factory. The roof was camouflaged with many leaves and branches. That factory supplied bullets and bombs to Germany and Italy after most of their urban factories were destroyed by Allied warplanes.

Twenty minutes later, they were greeted by Hans Schultz, a pudgy inept Nazi sergeant.

"You're wearing those prisoners out, Herr Klink," Schultz said. "They'll have no energy left for their work detail in the print shop. The mind is just as important as the body."

"Right on, you crazy kraut," grunted Staff Sergeant James Kinchloe, a smug black pilot from the mean streets of Memphis. "Momma always told me that 'a mind is a terrible thing to waste.' So I hit the books while she hit the bottle . . . and then daddy hither."

"An educated negro?Ach du lieber,I hope to god the allies won't win," Klink muttered.

"In the meantime, I have an important assignment for you, prisoners," Schultz announced. "I want you to print a thousand Nazi propaganda leaflets, which will then be dropped from Luftwaffe planes over London. We can't weaken their morale with bombs, so we'll do it with words. 'Keep Calm and Carry On,'mein arsch!"

"We'll never support your airhead Aryan bullshit," grunted Technical Sergeant Andrew Carter from North Dakota Sioux country.

"I'm well aware that you were brainwashed with democratic hogwash by your inbred Uncle Sam. So I'm pouring a lot of honey into this pot."

"What do you mean, 'honey'?" Hogan asked suspiciously.

"If you print off those Nazi leaflets, I'll give you one full night with six sexy call girls."

"Hookers?" Hogan gaped.

"Are you fucking bollocks?" Peter snickered.

"No sir. You can blowyourbollocks on Munich's finestprostituiertewho double as biermaidens at the Hofbrauhaus. They tap a lot of kegs, and then theygettapped!"

"Sacre bleu, Monsieur Schultz," chortled Corporal Louis LeBeau, a funny Frenchman. "I'm patriotic as hell, but I'm also horny as fuck in this godforsaken prison camp. Let's tag some Third Reich tail!"

"Fuck yeah, Frenchie," Kinchloe cheered. "I wanna bang those biermaidens like white blonde Billie Holidays."

"I really miss fooling around with frisky redhead hookers in Boston," sighed Staff Sergeant Richard Baker.

"We're gonnaschtupthose skanks too, behind the backs of our commanding officers," Schultz beamed.

"But isn't that a blatant violation of Stalag 13 rules? 'No female fraternization allowed for prisoners of war,' as you've often reminded us."

"It's also a blatant violation of your marriage vows to Gretchen, Sergeant Schultz," Klink uttered wryly.

"I know nothing. No-thing!" Schultz grunted with a sly wink, zipping his lips shut.

"I know nothing neither. Heil Hitler!" Klink beamed, stretching his right arm in a proud Nazi salute.

"Hitler can kiss my ass, and Mussolini can suck my macaroni," Hogan remarked.

Klink and Schultz retired to the plush air-cooled comfort of the officer's lounge, while those six allied prisoners strolled toward the sweltering print shop with newfound pep in their step.

"Bloody hell, Hogan," Peter groaned. "I can't wait to 'fraternize' with those frauleins, but I feel bad about printing Nazi codswallop to spread all over my old London stomping grounds."

"Don't worry, chap. I've got an ace up my sleeve, as usual," Hogan snickered. He led them to the shop building and helped them print a thousand propaganda fliers for "Adolph the semi-mustachioed menace."

ACHTUNG! ATTENTION!

ALLIED DEFEAT IS IMMINENT! GREAT BRITAIN WILL SOON FALL TO GREATER GERMANY! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. PREPARE FOR AN ORDERLY TRANSITION OF POWER. NAZI SUPERMEN ARE YOUR WISE SUPERIORS, BEGINNING A THOUSAND YEARS OF PROSPERITY. ALL HAIL HITLER AND HIS GLORIOUS NEW REGIME!

Butthen,Heroic Hogan pulled an ace out of his sleeve by helping them print four hundred oftheseflyers:

ATTENTION BRITISH MILITARY COMMAND:

A COVERT AIR DROP MESSAGE PRINTED BY ALLIED POW'S. PLEASE BOMB SECRET AXIS MUNITIONS FACTORY! HALF MILE WEST OF STALAG-13 CAMP NEAR HAMMELBURG. CAMOUFLAGED WITH BRANCHES, THREE GREEN SMOKESTACKS. GOD BLESS AMERICA, GOD SAVE THE KING, LA MARSEILLAISE, AND ALL THAT JAZZ!

They slipped those secret leaflets into the middle of three bound packages. The overworked Luftwaffe air crews probably wouldn't notice the difference before letting the papers loose a mile above the U.K. capital. Even if they did notice, those ignorant Nazi flyboys probably couldn't read anything in English.

"Bloodybrilliant,Hogie!" Peter beamed.

"You got the biggest balls of any white guy I ever met," Kinchloe chuckled.

"Don't celebrate too soon," Hogan warned. "We'll have to wait a while to see if the fireworks will get delivered."

"In the meantime, we'll launch a different kind of 'fireworks'," Carter quipped.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next night, Klink and Schultz delivered on their promise by delivering six call girls from Munich in the covered cargo hold of an Opel Blitz, concealed by twenty crates full of pretzels and sauerkraut bound for the camp mess hall. Sergeant Schultz backed the truck right up to the entrance of Cellblock 16, glancing around to make sure his wife Gretchen wasn't in the vicinity. The coast was clear, so he led those gorgeous Aryan maidens into the dingy detention quarters, where the dirty half-dozen were shooting dice.

"Achtung,you Allied imbeciles!" Colonel Klink barked out with a naughty grin.

"Sorry to interrupt your craps game . . . but we have some fine young Aryan frauleins for you," Schultz continued.

"I'll bedamned," Hogan beamed, beholding six lovely ladies in traditional Bavarian dirndl dresses. "Ein prosit,indeed!"

"Fresh from the biergarten and ready to chug!" Richard cheered.

"Allow me to properly introduce them," Schultz said. "This brunette beauty is Brunhilda."

"Guten abend, meine Herren," she uttered sweetly, curtseying her cute skirt.

"This evening's about to get reallyguten, mein frau," Louis beamed, awkwardly attempting German with a Parisian accent. The other brunette was Emma, while the four voluptuous blonde bombshells were named Leni, Lina, Hilda and Helga.

"Hell yeah, Helga. Those German names are like music to my ears," Hogan mused, with his big dick pressing hard against his trousers. "I always fuck better with a soundtrack."

"Me too," Kinchloe replied. "I can't stand Germanoom-pa-pabands with goddamn tubas. I really miss hearing those deep south blues bands on Beale Street."

"If you make us listen to Wagner's bloody Ring Cycle one more time, I'm gonna blow a fucking gasket," Peter muttered to the german top brass.

"No classical enlightenment for you tonight," Klink snickered. "As an extra treat, I smuggled in some degenerate American swing records."

"Yankee girls are going gaga over Frank Sinatra, so we brought his latest hit to break the ice."

"Ja, ja, Frankie ist ein wirklich gutaussehender Kerl!" Leni cheered in a thick accent. (Yes, yes, Frankie is such a handsome devil!)

"Ach du liebe,even Bavarian babes are bobby-soxing their brains out," Schultz groaned. He pulled a vinyl disc out of a cardboard album cover, then he placed it on a 78 RPM turntable and plunked a diamond needle on the outermost groove. The lively sound of a sixteen-piece orchestra emerged from a fluted speaker, followed by the silky satin voice of Sinatra:

"Saturday night is the loneliest night in the week / 'Cause that's the night that my sweetie and I used to dance cheek to cheek . . ."

"May I have this dance, Frau Hilda?" Hogan uttered sheepishly.

"Jawohl, du sexy, unglücklicher amerikanischer Held," giggled that busty goldilocks. (Yes indeed, you sexy misadventured American hero.)

Six P.O.W.'s paired up with six prostitutes, fox-trotting across the creaky wooden floor of Cellblock 16. Klink and Schultz watched them dance with bemused expressions and rising cocks.

"Damn,fraulein. You dance better than all those colored dames back in Memphis," Kinchloe beamed, grabbing Brunhilda's big Bavarian ass.

"You're such a hot biermaiden, I might shoot my American rifle just looking at you," Andrew remarked to Lina.

"Oh Gott, ich habe so einen Heißhunger auf deinen großen Schwanz. Ich muss ihn jetzt unbedingt essen!" Lina groaned. (Oh god, I am starving for your big dick. I must eat it now!) She stopped dancing and dropped to her knees, and fishing out his trouser trout. Jamming it deep in her mouth and sucking energetically.

"Pip-pip, cheery-o!" Peter laughed. "Let's get some sloppy gobbies from these fine German lasses."

The other call girls dropped down and got down to business, devouring thick juicy sausages like the biergarten hussies they were.

"Fuck yeah, Hilda," Hogan groaned toward the wooden ceiling as she deep-throated his wood. "You're the Bavarian bee's knees!"

"Comme ça, ma chérie allemande. Manger ma fusil français comme une baguette fraîchement sortie du four," Louis growled toward Leni's bobbing blonde head. (Just like that, my German sweetheart. Eat my French rifle like a baguette.)

Those Munich hookers kept fellating their Allied batons with militaristic precision. Slurping disgustingly with ropes of spittle oozing down on the dice-covered floor.

"Nehmt die schwänze eures vorgesetzten in den mund, ihr schlampen! Das ist ein verdammter befehl!" barked Colonel Klink. (Get those mouths on your commanding officer's cocks, sluts! That's a fuckingorder!)

"Jawohl, mein furchtloser Nazi-führer!" Brunhilda giggled. (Sir yes sir, my fearless Nazi leader!) She crawled over to Klink while Hilda crawled over to Schultz. Yanking out their long dongs and slobbering them just as eagerly.

"Verdammt ja, du dreckige brezelverkäuferin und hure!" Klink remarked ecstatically. (Fuck yes, you dirty pretzel hawking whore!)

"Oh mein Gott, deine vollen, roten lippen sind einfach himmlisch. Du bläst mir den schwanz viel besser als meine unterwürfige ehefrau!" Schultz mused comically. (Oh my god, your full red Aryan lips are simply divine. You suck dick way better than my bitchy wife!)

They grabbed their heads with both hands and face-fucked them gleefully. Gagging them like German Lugers.

"Fuck yeah, Herr Kommandants!" Klinchoe cheered while Emma deep-throated his dark dick. "Choke those kraut skanks real good!"

The prisoners purged out plenty of frustration deep in enemy territory, after getting no female action whatsoever for the past fourteen months. Skullfucking those frauleins with reckless abandon, smacking their cock-stuffed cheeks.

"I wanna fuck these naughty biermaidens forreal," Hogan growled.

"Damn right, Hogie. Let's get our money's worth for all that worthless fascist propaganda," Andrew snickered.

"Bend over against the bunks, bitches!" Hogan ordered sternly.

Those whores all dropped out of high school back in Munich, so they only understood a few words of English. The muscular prisoners showed them the hard way, shoving their sexy bodies against their uncomfortable bunk beds. Six pale heart-shaped Nordic rumps lined up in a smooth row, with glistening pink pussies winking out. Hogan slammed his huge prick up Lina's tight twat, making her squeal like a schoolgirl. Everyone else picked a random girl to ram, tag-teaming after a few minutes. Working their way down the line with Schultz and Klink.

"Oh scheiße, du fickst mich so gut, du alliierter sbschaum!" Brunhilda moaned while getting fucked by Louis. (Oh shit, you fuck me so good, you Allied degenerate!)

"Härter, verdammt! Amerikanische jungs spielen schön hart, genau so, wie ich es mag!" Leni moaned while getting fucked by Richard. (Harder,damn it! You American boys play nice and rough, just the way I like it!)

Hogan pounded Hilda's pussy with authority, spanking her big ass over and over with both hands. "I'm gonna set you straight, you fascist cunt. Exercising my freedom of expression, like George fuckin' Washington."

"Yes sir, Mister President. These Third Reich degenerates need a good hard spanking, like dirty Deep South farm girls," Kinchloe remarked. He smacked Lina's ass quite loudly.

"Your Tuskegee brothers are bombing the fuck out of Berlin, and soon you hot crackers will beours.Forfree," Richard beamed.

"Nein!Victory will beours, you lousy Americanschweine!" Klink roared, wailing away on Brunhilda's backside. "Oh scheiße, ich werde so heftig kommen!" (Oh shit, I'm gonna come so hard!)

"Spritze mir dein sperma über mein hübsches gesicht, mein furchtloser anführer!" Brunhilda growled. (Cum all over my pretty face, my fearless leader!) She got back down on her knees, tilting her face back and gazing up at Klink's snarling monocled face. Wearing nothing but a black Nazi captain's hat with a golden eagle in the middle, clutching a wreathed swastika.

"Scheiße, scheiße, scheiße, verdaaaammt!" he roared, plastering her pale face with white gack. Everyone else lined up like an SS firing squad, stroking their sticks toward six Aryan flesh merchants.

"Call me your blitzkrieg daddy, blondie," Hogan grunted toward Helga while jerking like hell.

"Ich kann kein Englisch, Schatz." (I don't know english, baby.)

"Youbetterlearn English, mein frau. We're therealsupermen! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Meanwhile, Kinchloe snarled down at Hilda's face. "You wish there was such a thing as a black Nazi, baby."

"Schwarze Nazis werden bald die welt beherrschen," Hilda giggled. (Black Nazis will soon rule the world.)

"What did you call me, bitch?"

She giggled louder, pushing him over the edge. He roared fiercely and blasted a big white wad right between her sky-blue eyes. Next in line, Sergeant Schultz sprayed a gallon into Leni's wide open mouth.

"Verdammt noch mal, ich liebe diesen vornehmen job! Heil ficken Hitler!" Schultz chortled deliriously. (God fucking damn, I love this posh job! Hail fucking Hitler!)

"Mmm, ja, so viel sperma. Das nenne ich mal ein richtiges 'Bierlokal Putsch'," Leni murmured sweetly, swallowing every last drop. (Mmm, yeah, so much cum. This is whatIcall a 'Beer Hall Putsch.'"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next few days went by uneventfully. The "dirty half-dozen" toiled away with manual labor in the warm summer sun, dwelling in pleasant memories of that epic Allied vs. Axis hooker orgy. Allied troops were steadily marching across Vichy France, but it would still be at least a year before they crossed the staunchly defended Rhine and liberated Stalag 13 en route to Berlin.

Sergeant Schultz took a train to Nuremberg to attend a huge rally with Hitler himself, leaving the prisoners without their favorite Nazi goofball. Colonel Hogan broke rocks with the other guys, supervised by Colonel Ecke.

His mind drifted back to the first girl he ever fucked. Susie Sweeney, a redhead prom queen at Henry Ford High School in the heart of Detroit. That hot ginger really got his motor running right after their graduation ceremony, cranking his drive shaft into high gear in the backseat of a Chevrolet Special Deluxe. He promised to date her again the very next Saturday, but he got drafted into the army the very next Monday. After ten weeks of basic training at Fort Jackson, he found himself right in the thick of European action.

Hogan's nostalgic reverie was abruptly shattered by the voice of Gretchen Schultz. He turned around slowly, and beheld the lovely face of Sergeant Schultz's bitchy blonde wife.

"Achtung,Colonel Hogan. I am summoning you to my quarters this instant, to discuss a very important matter."

"Yes ma'am, Frau Schultz," Hogan replied wearily, never having been "summoned" to her office before.

"Ooooh, Hogie, you're intruuu-buuul!," Peter crowed like a goofy schoolboy.

Hogan reluctantly followed Gretchen toward her quarters, admiring her well-sculpted Aryan ass, tightly framed by a black pencil skirt as she tapped an ivory walking stick along the dusty ground. Long golden bangs spilled out of a black Nazi cap that matched her husband's. She sashayed into her posh air-cooled office full of Third Reich paraphernalia.

"I think it's obvious why I called you in here, Colonel Hogan," she grunted in that stern patrician tone, cocking her sideways with a slight smirk in front of a big framed poster that promoted Adolph Hitler and his "Struggle for Germany!" in a Gutenberg gothic font.

"I'm not a mind reader, frau. You'll have to clue me into your little gestapo game."

"Shut the fuck up,dumbkopf," Gretchen growled. "I know damn well that you fucked all those dirty whores a few nights ago, blatantly violating the camp rules. A slightly opened curtain on the southern window revealed plenty to my astounded eyes."

"Oh shit," Hogan groaned fearfully. "Your husband was also . . . involved."

"That's hardly surprising. Hans was never a good husband to begin with, and now he's 'sowing his wild oats' all across Bavaria."

"Are you gonna punish me for all that depravity?"

"Not exactly, Colonel Hogan," Gretchen replied with a bigger smirk. "I wish to get even with Hans by going 'punch-for-punch' as you Americans love to say."

"Get to the point, blondie. I can't stand these Nazi head games."

"Punch forpunch,my yankee darling. He cheated on me, so now I want to cheat onhim. . . withyou."

Hogan's dick instantly swelled to full attention, and his face flushed red with abrupt arousal. "Are you fucking serious, fraulein?"

"Verdammt ja,Colonel Hogan. You are such a sexy American playboy. I've wanted you so bad for so long, ever since you were dragged to Stalag 13 in chains."

"You're not too bad yourself. I've been jerking off to you every single night since I got here. But if we get caught, your husband might have me executed.'"

"Come on, you democratic pussy. Live a little, and make your fantasy come true."

She stepped right up to him and grabbed his shirt collar, yanking his face to her face and kissing him passionately.