I sat on the cold, hard concrete floor, my mind numb. The odor of the piss, now drying on my body, was heavy in my nostrils. Small patches of cum that the piss hadn't washed off caked on my chest and abs, cracking and pulling with each movement. Looking down at the bruised and abraded Old Snake, I slowly shook my head, wondering if I had made the right decision. Grasping the chrome cockring between my right thumb and index finger, I gingerly lifted my dick for inspection. The mere touch sent fingers of pain stabbing through the raw shaft. "Sorry, old buddy," I mumbled, knowing that Peck and Dieter were capable of still far more torment.
Shit. Maybe if I had accepted Peck's offer, I would have some room to maneuver, find some way to get my men out of this. "Yeah," I mumbled, "and if pigs could fly..."
A sudden noise came from the antechamber of the cellblock. I dropped my cock and stood, grasping the bars at the front of the cell. A moment later the heavy wooden door swung open and the prisoners filed through, followed by a contingent of the black clad guards prodding and pushing them forward. A few shot surreptitious glances at me as they passed by, their nostrils flaring at the stench coming from my direction.
L.T. was the last in line, his cockmeat swinging heavily between his thighs as he strode past me and into the cell adjacent to mine. The guards followed the naked men to the cells, shoving them in, and swinging the doors shut with loud clangs that resonated through the chamber.
As the black clad flunkies left the cellblock I realized that, while previously all the cells were occupied even to the point of L.T. and I sharing one, now there were two left vacant. I turned to the lieutenant to find him staring at me with concern. "You look like hell," he said with a hint of a smile.
"Yeah," I began, attempting to return the smile, "I feel like crap and smell like piss. I've had better days."
His smile faded as I nodded my head toward the empty cages. "What's happened?"
L.T.'s eyes followed mine to the vacant cells, then looked back to me. "Seems Peck's filled a few more orders." His voice was low, steady, but I sensed a seething emotion just below the surface. "A truck was being loaded with three large wooden crates in front of the main house as we were being led back here. There were holes lining the sides of each box...air holes, most likely. I can only put two and two together."
I felt a sudden pang of dread and quickly scanned the cells for the men of my squad, relieved to see the other four men accounted for. L.T. caught my reaction, nodding his head slightly. "We're all here. I reckon we're too new to make the advertisements."
My memory flashed back to Peck's comment about selling L.T. as a cum factory to the demented old man who had eaten the severed balls of his last purchase. I glanced down at my CO's impressive manhood and my stomach twisted into knots of dread.
"Lieutenant," I began, trying to maintain an air of composure, "things aren't looking all that great. I never expected the mission to end like this, and, well..." I cleared my throat and stared at the ground between my feet. I never was very good at expressing my feelings. "Well, I just wanted you to know that I considered it an honor to serve under you."
L.T. came to the partition dividing our cells, hands on the bars and feet planted wide. His hefty horse dick hung thickly between his solid thighs. "Listen, Sarge. First off, this isn't the end of the mission." His voice was firm, reassuring. "Second, things may not be quite as bad as they might appear on the surface." He smiled and added our unit catch phrase: "We ain't dead yet."
I managed a weak grin of my own as he reached through the bars and placed a large hand on my shoulder. "And third, I've got a feeling you'll be serving under me for quite a while to come."
The power of his hand resting on my shoulder gave me strength. And, was I imagining it, or was there a double meaning in his last sentence? I looked into his face, his eyes sparkling, his bruised lips curled into a crooked grin. "You'll see," he said.
A question formed on my lips, but before I was able to voice it, the heavy wooden door swung open, and several of the black uniformed flunkies entered with what was to be our dinner.
Stopping in front of each cell, one shoved a small bowl through the bars as another ladled some amorphous slop from a kettle. I took the bowl to the back of the cell; then, sticking my fingers into the gruel, brought them to my mouth. It may have been tasteless and bland, but my empty stomach didn't care. I finished it off as the goon squad left the cellblock. L.T. sat beside me on the other side of the bars, and I could feel his eyes watching me. I looked over to see the lopsided smile back on his face. "Beats eating your own cooking, huh?" He grinned, passing his portion through the bars. "You might as well eat mine, too. I don't have the stomach for it."
I hesitated, although my hunger was hardly abated. "Go on," L.T. held the bowl out, "you missed the great lunch we had when Peck took you to the house. Take it."
Accepting the additional food, I studied the lieutenant's face as I ate. "You know why he took me there, don't you?" I asked.
L.T. nodded his head slightly in the affirmative. "Probably to offer you the same deal he proposed to me the first night." He absently reached up and fingered the bruises at his lips. "He doesn't like to be told no, does he?"
I shook my head, "No, he sure as shit doesn't." My face screwed up in a questioning expression. "Why'd he do it, Lieutenant? Why would he ask us to join him in his depravity?"
L.T. shrugged his massive shoulders. "Same old story, I reckon. Divide and conquer. Or maybe he really believed he could convince us. He does have a persuasive manner."
I felt a pang of guilt thinking that I had actually considered the offer. "Yeah," I answered, "he sure does." I set the empty bowls to the side. I felt a bit less pessimistic with some food in my belly. I cleared my throat, my lips slightly pursed, "About what you said earlier. We really have a chance?"
"There's always a chance, Sarge. The important thing is to never give up. You and I have a lot of unfinished business to take care of." Again, I couldn't help but think there was an ambiguous significance behind his words.
Suddenly the lights went out and the cellblock was cloaked in darkness. L.T.'s voice was a source of inspiration and comfort in the gloom, "Now, let's get some sleep. We've got a busy day ahead."
"Yessir," I replied, sliding down to a lying position on the floor, the dried cum pulling the hairs of my chest and belly as I moved. "Thank you, sir."
"For what?" he whispered, as I heard him shuffling into a more comfortable position.
"For everything," I answered.
*****
Sleep was elusive and fleeting. The odor of urine and cum was still pervasive, and my cock and balls were throbbing from the maltreatment of the afternoon. The rare times that I did doze were haunted by nightmares of my men in torment and agony, or the recurrent hellish vision of L.T.'s blood smeared face chewing on his own severed testicles as he sawed at his monstrously oversized dick with a dull edged butterknife.
Each time I awoke in a hazy, irrational panic, searching in the pallid light to find the lieutenant lying quietly in the adjoining cell, his manhood intact, his hairy chest rising and falling with the slow respirations of slumber.
For what seemed the hundredth time, I settled back down, taking care not to put pressure on my swollen, aching nuts. I was afraid to close my eyes, dreading the specter of my CO with trickles of crimson down his chin.
Eventually I did drift off, only to be jolted awake by a sharp, metallic clanging. I sat with a start, sending bolts of nauseating pain into my guts as I caught my battered, bloated balls between my thighs. I looked up to see Dieter dragging his nightstick over the bars of the cells, working his way down to the end of the row. "Get 'em up, assholes!" he bellowed, his usual morning routine. "It's oh six hundred! Rise and shine, fuckheads! Assume the position! Lets go, let's GO, LET'S GO!"
I stood gingerly as Old Snake flopped painfully over my nutsack, and in a repeat of yesterday, pressed my body to the front of the cell. Down the line, each man did the same, cock and balls extending through the bars.
When each captive was in place, Dieter started his stride up the row, tapping at an occasional set of balls with his nightstick or tweaking at a dickhead just to see what reaction he could elicit.
As he approached Johnson's cell he stopped, staring at the good-looking black man with a sneer. Reaching between the man's legs, he grabbed the dangling testicles. "No smart words today, dickhead?" Johnson, obviously remembering the previous lesson, swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing in his thick neck. "No, sir," he gasped, waiting for Dieter to clench his fist, crushing the large balls. Instead, Dieter opened his hand and hefted the man-eggs in his palm. "Don't matter," Dieter laughed as he dropped the nuts and grabbed Johnson's thick shaft, pulling forcibly toward him. He leaned his face to within inches of the marine's, and I watched as his sneer broadened and heard him whisper "today's the day." Then, swinging the nightstick into the man's vulnerable groin, he released the cockmeat as Johnson half sank to his knees, his white teeth gleaming in a silent grimace of pain.
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the vision of torment, my stomach heaving in anger. I opened them again just as Dieter moved in front of L.T. and stared with a malicious grin. "How's it hangin', big man? Your ass twitching for another fucking yet? I hear all guys with big dicks just love to get fucked."
The corners of L.T.'s mouth curled upward slightly. "You must really hate it then, huh, tiny?"
I watched the smirk dissolve from Dieter's face as his eyes narrowed. He looked at the lieutenant for long moments before turning away to stand in front of me. I winced as he took my abraded cock in his fist. "You really should do something about that mouth on your fuckbuddy," he said, pulling on Old Snake. "I think he needs this stuck down his throat again," he began stroking my shaft, an action devoid of any pleasure as he opened the abrasions from yesterday's abuse. "Or maybe," he began, as he released my dick and painfully squeezed my swollen balls, "you should shove these in his mouth."
My face contorted from the pain as the clenching of his fist increased. Dieter's lip lifted in a sneer, baring his teeth. "Yeah, maybe you'd feel better if he kissed your nuts, huh?" Dieter's face was an inch from mine, his breath hot as he spoke.
He let loose of my nuts as he turned back to L.T. "Whattaya think, big man? You want to make your buddy feel better?" He took one of the control pads from his pocket as he spoke. "Face the side of the cell and kneel."
L.T. looked at the control in the sadist's hand and complied with the order, knowing that a refusal would lead to me being the one punished. Dieter's face broke into a wide grin. "You learn fast. Now press your head between the bars and stick out your fucking tongue."
My heart thudded in my chest with rage as Dieter looked back to me. "Get your ass over there," he said, nodding in the direction of L.T. who had dropped to his knees at the side of the cell.
I hesitated momentarily, and Dieter pressed a button on the keypad. I yelped as the electricity seared my groin, and Dieter roared, "I said MOVE!"
I shuffled over to the bars adjoining my cell with L.T.'s, and stood with legs spread, my balls dangling between my thighs.
"Now lick 'em," Dieter ordered, holding out the control box.
Closing my eyes, I whispered to L.T. "I'm sorry, sir," as I felt his warm, moist tongue begin to bathe my nutsack with a gentle lapping.
The gloating was obvious in Dieter's voice as he continued to harass, "Yeah, I thought that'd shut him up. Does a real good job, too, don't he?" I only half heard the words as the sensation of my hunky CO's tongue caused a stirring in Old Snake. "Damn," Dieter spat, "I may just hafta have him do mine next."
My dick began to lengthen as the tender ministrations of L.T.'s tongue persisted. "Oh, shit," I whispered barely aloud, my knees feeling weak as I got into the effect of a fantasy come true. I had often thought about sucking on the lieutenant's cock and balls, but hardly dared to consider reciprocation.
"Enough!" Dieter barked, jolting me back to reality. "Turn around, fuckhead." I did as ordered, futilely hoping that L.T. somehow didn't notice the growing hard on as I turned, my ass now in his face. "Now, bend over and grab your ankles." My asscheeks parted as I bent forward, exposing my puckered hole.
"Get your tongue in there," Dieter growled to the lieutenant, and I could feel the prodding at my asshole as he complied. I glanced over to the front of my cell. My face in this position was at the level of Dieter's crotch, and I watched him kneading at the large cylinder bulging at his left thigh, as he grunted, "yeah, clean him out good, asslicker. Stick that tongue up his hole."
The sensation of L.T.'s tongue licking and pushing at my asshole was driving me crazy. I found myself wishing for his big old marine prick instead. Old Snake was coming alive, breaking open dried abrasions from yesterday as he grew more and more erect. My nuts, though still sore, were churning as the lieutenant pressed his face to my butthole, his rough growth of facial hair erotically abrading my asscheeks as he shoved his tongue further past the puckered sphincter. "Oh, shit!" I exhaled, overcome by the feel of my CO's tongue up my chute.
My balls pulled up tight in their sack, and even without touching my dick, I was on the verge of. . .
"Enough!" Dieter barked. "We don't have time to play around all morning. Get back in position, fuckheads!"
"Uhhh," I moaned in frustration, deprived of the imminent release that the lieutenant's tongue had promised.
L.T. and I took our places at the front of our cells. Old Snake, to my great humiliation, protruded through in plain view, now fully erect and oozing clear precum. Dieter circled his hand around my shaft, rubbing his thumb over the seeping piss slit. "Enjoyed that, did ya?" He grinned, pulling forcibly on my dick and leaning his face close to mine between the bars. "Get it while ya can, asswipe."
With a final sharp tug on Old Snake, Dieter went to the large wooden door of the cellblock and opened it. A contingent of the black uniforms waiting in the antechamber entered, and just like before, came to the cells to escort us out. They started at the far end of the block, so that mine was the last cell opened. I watched as the other men were ushered past my cell on their way out, their eyes surreptitiously glancing at my seeping hard on. L.T. was the last before me. I caught his eyes as he went by, attempting to nonverbally communicate my apologies for what had occurred. I was astonished to see a slight smile curling the corners of his mouth and a quick wink before my cell was also opened and I followed. What the hell was that? It could have been meant as a simple reassurance. But, again, I sensed something more.
