Chapter 36: Stalin Takes a Poop (Emotional)

A/N: Oh yeah tw for (very intense) spoilers in the title. Btw... this is the last one 😲😲😲 Besides a VERY LONG epilogue BESTIES...so stay TUNED for THAT (; 

Self-assured and domineering, the man of steel inserted himself coyly onto the sofa, lighting a cigarette just to watch it flicker flimsily, pathetically, in a desperate bid for life. He tossed it across the room, with a deep sense of satisfaction, as he thought of Adolf's suppressed sobs down below. His stiff cock purred softly. It was hungry...

Joseph glanced, restless, around the apartment. The telephone momentarily elicited his suggestive gaze. He considered calling Jürg again. Indeed, it was very nice to have someone he could graphically recount everything he wanted to do to Hitler to. Therapeutic, even. Yet, this time, he decided against the idea...no doubt Jürg would want to bitch about himself. About Switzerland. About how couples counselling wasn't going well because Göring kept accusing the therapist of 'infiltration', setting his curtains alight and throwing lion cubs at him. Yawn (in Russian).

Instead, Stalin sauntered into the bathroom and assertively took a monumental shit. He groaned heavily as he filled the gaping, submissive toilet with his proletarian produce, imagining it was Hitler's wet mouth, the seat his swollen, perky, PULSATING lips. Joseph's poo poo had the distinctive odour of Moscow rain mixed with black, almost charred coffee. And it was thicker than mashed potatoes, with rugged, sickle-sharp edges that only-slightly softened when submerged in the now-murky water lurking below his poised posterior. When he had finished...

...emptying his handsome yet supple rectum, he yanked down the toilet handle with an almost melancholic sigh, refusing, out of principle, to wash his hands in the sink. How bourgeois... Instead, Joseph, being a man of the people, simply licked his fingers clean with a smooth caress of his tongue. Why resort to automation where labour alone would suffice?

Anyways, graceful as a gazelle, the Iron Man was trotting towards the bathroom door, when he spotted something SHOCKING out of the corner of his watchful orbs. He stopped dead in his tracks, like a runner stopping in a track and dying. You see, he was very shocked. He couldn't believe what his eyes were whispering huskily to him.

'There's no way!' Joseph gasped (in shock), 'I don't believe what my eyes are whispering huskily to me...Woah...'

*

In the darkness below, Adolf, DEEP in a lustful stupor, struggled serenely to let out a gasp. It was hopeless. He felt his orbs roll into the back of his head as he came for the 88th time. Grinding his eyelids against the rough blindfold, he sunk into a state of utter bliss once more, feeling a titillating concoction of cum and piss shot down the back of his thighs, like bullets seductively dancing across a sunlit sky. He adored the feeling, hopeless and erotic, and entangled with the tantalising promise of Stalin's special sauce. Only if he was a good boy, of course...

Oh, how he wished he'd known just how erotic the struggle, his struggle, could be when he'd written his book! He would've included a whole chapter recounting this moment...Would've dedicated Mein Kampf to Stalin, alongside his sweet and spicyy body, sheathed in a pink swastika ribbon and a coquette little dog tag. If only...

'Adolf.'

Oh mein Gott...he was back. Voice both delicate and rugged, like smooth honey peeling off a dandruff-decorated scalp. Ready to conquer Adolf's naughty buttocks as he'd already conquered his naughty army. The small boy trembled in excitement.

'I hope you've missed me,' hissed the handsome man of steel, eyes widening in arousal as he gazed upon his gagged and bound husband, who struggled frantically for his warm and supple embrace.

'Jaaaaa, I have, daddy...' gasped Hitler, as Stalin removed the gag from his trembling, saliva-adorned lips. He fingered their outline, forcing Adolf to swallow his own oral fluids, as he wrestled, with an ultra-masculine conviction, at his belt, forcing it away. It hit the floor with a scaringly sexual clang - leaving Joseph's penis hovering, poised and proud, above the Führer's fat, little lips. The scrumptious scene was eerily reminiscent of the sexy flag of the Soviet Union lying erect and imposing on top of the submissive Reichstag.

'MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!' said Hitler, as his very well practiced lips parted in pleasure. He was so ready...

Dismissively brushing aside Hitler's blindfold, Stalin gazed assertively into his auburn brown eyes. They reminded him of the shit he had taken previously. He immediately felt overcome with love. Love tossed with a healthy dash of desire... 

And then...

Stalin's delicious ding dong gallantly took the plunge, advancing into Adolf's mouth - territory that would not remain unconquered for much longer. Trembling, Adolf immediately accepted the seductive incursion. He swirled his tongue around the top of Joseph's thick shaft, watching his saliva adorn it with pure, pearly and Aryan beads. 

Stalin gasped: 'Suck it, Addie baby. That's right, all the way down for me...good boy...' 

Gazing imploringly up at Stalin, eyes wider than this emoji - 🥺 -, Adolf took his entire girthy grenade launcher with glee, savouring the feeling as it scraped hungrily against the back of Germanic throat, making him splutter. Stalin's PENIS tasted a bit like his excrement, but saltier and tinged with an almost delicate sweetness. And Adolf loved the way it felt in his mouth, like one of the rifles he used to practice with when he was coming to terms with his suppressed and sensual sexuality - only much larger and twice as deadly. Ready to explode...

Hitler let out a muffled moan.

The Russian, grunting heavily now (in Russian), seized the back of Adolf's head, suddenly jerking him backwards... and then forwards... with an animalistic intensity. Consequently, Stalin soon grunted EVEN louder - for the Führer's freaky fellatio finessed faster and faster, frothing up his fatherly frenulum with fragrant funnel fluid.

'Da...'

Hitler gagged loudly, transcending into a coughing fit as Stalin pulled away for a second...admiring Adolf's darkened lips and watering eyes...before cruelling hollowing out his aching cheeks once again with his hard and sophisticated member.

And then...

Stalin let out a hefty sigh...

'O boze moi...Addie...fuck...fuck...I'm-'

It was just like the 26th of October, 1917 - when Stalin and his comrades had stormed the Winter Palace, subjecting the Motherland to their Bolshevik agenda. Except the Winter Palace was Adolf's extensively stretched-out mouth hole and the excited revolutionaries were Stalin's testicles - his agenda a rich, white stream of Soviet scrumptiousness. Adolf lapped it up obediently, purring like a (German) cat and leaving a milky stain across the sides of his mouth and delightful mustache. 

And then they lay together, two peas in a (very disturbed) pod). Adolf passively fiddled with Stalin's hands - softly caressing them between his fingers - and then the ridges in his jelly-like tongue. Stalin gazed fixedly into the distance. Then, with clean certainty, he spoke:

'Addie, I took a shit early. A big one...it was so good! It reminded me of...us. Of how much I love you.'

Adolf looked up from Stalin's fingers with teary eyes. 'Awwwww Joseph-'

'Addie, I'm talking,' Joseph silenced his husband authoritatively, 'That shit...It reminded me of the first time I saw you, really saw you. Saw you for who you really are, I mean - not like it was during the war. A-and you looked at me and- '

With shock and seduction, Adolf released Joseph was crying too. He smiled softly, blushing. 'I offered you meth in exchange for a date...' he laughed nervously. 

Stalin sniffed assertively. 'Yeah, well, speaking of that...'

'Hawhaw,' giggled Hitler. 'I've had finer moments! In fairness, I was SO tired because I'd just finished murdering my wife after losing a prettyy big war-'

'I love you, Adolf,' Stalin interjected. 

'I love you too, Joseph. Honestly, I thought we would be over by Christmas...'

A pause. Stalin farted seductively, making his PEE PEE twitch. It would not be soft much longer...

'I'm glad we're not. Over by Christmas, I mean...' whispered Adolf, breathing in the scent of his husband's little treat with a lustful sigh. 'I love you so much...'

'I love you too...' smiled Stalin, reaching into his butthole, 'Addie?'

'Yeah...?'

Joseph held out the surprise he had found earlier in a poo-smothered hand. 'I found this...in the bathroom...'

Adolf flushed. 'Oh...yeah...I was...uhhh... going to tell you...'

Stalin's flickering eyes flitted from the pregnancy test to Adolf's nervous face to the pregnancy test again. Adolf looked away. 

'I uhhhh...got a scan...' he stumbled, beads of sweat forming on his neck. 'The other day...It's a boy...'

A slow smile spread across Stalin's handsome face. 'Does it have a mustache yet?

Still not meeting his husband's gaze, Adolf mumbled gently: 'Only on one side...', before adding a tepid, 'are you angry at me?'

*

Stalin didn't answer at first. In fact, he still hadn't answered when the couple emerged from the basement a few minutes later - at which point poor Hitler was utterly submerged in anxious grease. 

'It is fitting...doing this is Poland...Very romantic,' muttered the small German, now redder than something very red.

'Doing what?' asked Stalin, purposefully concealing the emotion brewing within him.

'Uhhhh...you know...' 

'Here.' ordered the man of steel, gesturing towards the sofa.

Hitler obliged. 'J-joseph...?'

Joseph, hovering over him, reached out and caressed his smooth buttocks, forcing Adolf onto his hands and knees.. His voice was silky - and laced with something contagious. 'I'm going to fuck you now, Addie. You understand?'

Y-y-y-es...'

'Good boy,' muttered Joseph, beginning to beat his tasty meat over his husband's posed posterior, as his other hand pulled at his spotty cheeks.

'J-Joseph...' gasped Adolf as he felt Stalin slide inside him, stars jumping before his eyes as pleasure coursed through his veins. 'A-a-a-are you angr- OH scheiße...OH ja...fick...'

The pace was quickening rapidly - Stalin's pulsating member squeezing deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper. The noise of his breath, intertwined with Hitler's cute panting, and coupled with the supple ache of his bouncing cheeks, satiated by the hard friction of Joseph's warm body, was indicative of the complete works of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Hitler closed his eyes, sobbing ecstatically.

'JOSEPH OH MEIN GOTT I'M GOING TO....'

'Addie...' gasped Stalin, pulling at Adolf's hair, wanting to feel, to possess, to own every single part of him, as his warm and practiced ejaculate braced itself for impact. 'T-this is the happiest day of my life. I-I'm going to be a father...Oh da, Addie...'

Hitler could only gasp in relief. 'Achhhhhhhhhhh...'

He was so close. They both were...

...

Suddenly, the phone began to VIBRATE. 

Rrrrrring...

Rrrring...

Rrrring...

Rrrrring...

Rrrrring...

Rrrrrring...

Stalin groaned, reaching for the receiver (A/N: in this context, receiver = the phone thing - not Hitler ): )

Joseph sighed further as Jürg's distorted voice echoed through the phone. He watched his hard and aching dick throb with delayed promises. Forbidden oaths...

 'Addie...you know...maybe you were right about the Jews...'

Hitler came harder than was humanly possible.