The night was hot and humid, causing the clothing to stick to your skin. We had been camped here for the past four days waiting for something to happen. We weren't exactly sure what. Being a grunt Marine meant following orders and not asking a lot of useless questions. I was a Staff Sergeant and the noncom in charge of four PFC's that had been sent on this recon mission under the command of Lieutenant Brown. We called him "L.T.". He's a cool guy. Worked himself up from enlisted grunt to a commission, so he knew what we were about. Not like some of those asswipe college kids who thought a piece of sheepskin was a ticket to lead.
L.T. had handpicked the five of us. He didn't tell us much about the mission, but what the fuck. I'd have followed him to hell if he'd said the word. Yeah, I liked him. More than that, I respected him. He told us what he could, maybe all he knew. We were to follow up on a group of missing Marines. Sent on a mission of covert aid to the DEA, they suddenly vanished into thin air. No radio calls, no sign of engagement, nothing. Just up and gone. Missing marines were not a rarity in this part of the world. Occasionally one or two would decide that they'd had enough and head over the wall, usually never to be seen again. But a whole squad raised the brass eyebrows.
Three days after they had disappeared, their dog-tags were found in this sector, hanging from a tree like some fucking silver blossoms. I reckon the head shed thought this was as good a place to start as any, so here we were.
I sat on the ground leaning against a tree, surveying the campsite. L.T. was studying the maps of the area for the six billionth time. The other four grunts were playing a quiet game of poker. A sudden clipped four-letter word drew a sharp glance from L.T. "If you mutherfuckers can't keep it down," he growled in a harsh whisper, "I'll cut off your fucking balls and gag you with them." The players, suitably chastised, lowered their gaze to the cards in their hands, grinning slightly. They liked him, too.
I smiled at the scene, scratching my balls and trying unsuccessfully to readjust them in the sticky, clinging briefs. What they needed was some air, and besides, my bladder was about ready to burst. As I stood, I saw L.T. also rise and follow me the short distance into the trees.
I had already unbuttoned my BDU's and drawn out old Snake by the time L.T. moseyed up beside me. He undid the buttons on his fly with soft popping sounds, then reached in and hauled out his Marine meat. I couldn't help but glance down as he began to piss, unaware of my interest. I had seen him naked plenty of times, but I was always impressed by the size of his dick. I wondered for the umpteenth time what that fucker looked like hard if it was this big flaccid. I was snapped back to reality by the sound of his voice, my dick starting to harden in my hand. "Those four numb nuts sound like they're having a good time back there." He cocked his head in the direction of the camp.
With some difficulty I stuffed my semi-turgid cock back in its confinement, hoping L.T. didn't notice. "Sir, I regret their outburst," I said, buttoning my BDU's, "It won't happen again."
He finished draining his bladder and shook the last few drops from his flopping dick. "Well, no real harm done. They're young, but they'll catch on." He spread his legs and bent his knees slightly as he replaced his massive member back in his pants, bouncing his hips a few times to settle it into place. "We were all there once, weren't we?" His teeth gleamed in the moonlight as he grinned and clapped me on the back. His sweat soaked green t-shirt clung to his muscular chest like a second skin. "Come on, Sarge. Let's get back to our babysitting, shall we?"
I had a little trouble walking with my dick in its aroused state, and the touch of his hand from the friendly slap on the back certainly didn't make things any easier for me.
We had gone half of the fifty yards back to camp when we heard something. It was little more than a rustling sound, but it obviously didn't belong to the usual noises of the night. L.T. froze, his head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. My heart was pumping wildly in my chest as I swung the M-16 into workable position. L.T.'s eyes met mine for a brief second, glinting with intense concentration. Assuming a half crouch position, we turned back to back as we surveyed the murky woodland. The only comfort I could glean was the feel of L.T. behind me. My index finger was sweating and slick on the trigger guard as I peered futilely into the darkness. The low, murmuring sounds of the card players had ceased and now the only noise was the fucking pounding in my chest.
Suddenly, I felt L.T.'s body shudder, followed by a soft, short groan. My heart crawled into my throat as I whirled to face him. His eyes were wide and his mouth agape as the weapon dropped with a solid thud from his hands. On his chest had sprouted a small, fringed dart surrounded by a slowly spreading stain of red. Time for me had all but stopped, and in a fraction of a second I saw L.T.'s wide, surprised eyes look down in shock and amazement at the tranquilizer dart in his chest before crumpling to the ground. My M-16 came to life, vomiting hot lead blindly into the darkness, its sound muted by barely controlled panic. The cold, hard steel of a gun barrel pressed to the base of my skull brought the whole thing to an abrupt end, the sudden silence deafening in my ears.
"Drop it," a voice spoke slowly and distinctly from behind me. "Do it now if you have any desire to keep that jarhead of yours."
The weapon fell from my fingers as shadowy figures came around from my flank on both sides. I stared at L.T.'s moonlit, motionless body on the ground several feet in front of me, the crimson stain like a badge on his olive drab T-shirt.
A hand roughly thrust me forward toward my fallen OIC. "Hands behind your head, asshole." Numbly, I clasped my hands at the back of my neck as I glanced around me. At least five men, massively built and dressed in black, surrounded me with the business end of automatic rifles pointed in my direction.
The voice from what was apparently their leader barked from behind me, "Status report! Any casualties?"
A hulking, angry, mountain of a man came toward me, his eyes burning from beneath his thunderous brow. "Minor flesh wounds," he called to the unseen man behind me. "Nothing serious, no thanks to this cocksucker." He clamped a meaty hand onto my crotch and squeezed causing me to wince as my testicles were crushed in his fist. He brought his face close to mine, the smell of his sweat heavy in my nostrils. "But I'm going to make sure you pay, dogmeat. I'm gonna take a real personal interest in you."
"That's enough, Dieter," The man in charge came around into my field of vision ". . . for now."
The man called Dieter looked from me to the other man. "Yes, sir, Mr. Peck," he said, then looked back at me, contempt flashing in his eyes.
Dressed in black, and muscularly built like the others, Peck was about forty five, graying hair at the temples of his square jawed face. He looked calmly into my eyes as I tried to hide the fear burning in my guts.
I swallowed the dread in my throat as I stared brazenly back. "You can do whatever the fuck you want, you son of a bitch. Your scum sucking drug operation is going to come down. If not by us, then . . ." I was startled and confused by his sudden raucous laughter that was joined by the other dark figures around us.
His eyes twinkled as his chortles subsided. "You poor fool," he said, shaking his head slightly. "I'm not into illicit drugs. Our little operation deals in a far more elite commodity. One that . . .," a look of bemusement spread across his handsome features, "is much more intoxicating and addicting than any street pharmaceutical." He broke into a broad grin that in another situation would have been erotically appealing. "One for which my customers are willing to pay great sums of money." Peck took my jaw in a firm hand, his eyebrows raised, "And I always give them their money's worth." He shoved my chin causing me to stumble backward, losing my balance. Several hands caught me before I hit the ground, holding my arms in their tight grip. "Now," he snapped, the grin still on his face, "let's get a look at the merchandise." At this, I felt multiple hands on my body, the sweat soaked t-shirt ripped from my torso. The belt was drawn from my trousers as the buttons on my fly were ripped open. Suddenly a knife blade flashed in the moonlight and sliced effortlessly down the inseams of my BDU pants, allowing them to fall in rags around my ankles. I struggled futilely in the unyielding clutches as my bootlaces were cut and my jungle boots torn from my feet. My breath came in short gasps and I tried to swallow as I stood, helpless, dressed only in my white cotton briefs.
Peck stepped up to me, his eyes still sparkling as he examined my near naked body like a piece of livestock. He sucked his tongue and nodded approvingly as he ran his hands over the light thatch of hair on my muscled chest and abdomen. "Very nice. It's reassuring to see the Marine Corps still builds men. Now, let's see what you've got in the way of natural assets." Saying this, he gripped the fly of my briefs in both hands and pulled. The thin material shredded apart, leaving me standing completely naked and vulnerable before him.
A shudder ran through my being as he cupped my cock and balls in a large, calloused hand. Pursing his lips, he continued fondling my meat until it slowly began to react to his attention. As he grasped my stiffening rod in a meaty fist, I jerked my hips back slightly in an attempt to escape the assault on my groin. A weapon pressed firmly into the middle of my back was all the warning that was needed, and I stood rigid, with my hands on my head, as my USMC prime beef rose proud and hard before me. Humiliation was mixed with anger as I spat, looking my captor in the eye. "You fuckin' like what you see, Cocksucker?"
Keeping a firm grip on my pulsating shaft, he brought his other hand to my balls and squeezed, an evil sneer on his face. "I've seen better. But then, it's far from the worst." His smirk broke into a wide, white grin. "At any rate, it'll do."
I didn't like the sound of that. I glanced over at Dieter and found him staring at my dick like a starving man would gape at a big juicy steak. He licked his lips, holding the stock of an M-16 against his thigh, as he groped absently with his free hand at his own straining crotch. Looking around, I saw that several of the men in the group were sporting impressive bulges in their black uniform trousers.
"And now," the sound of Peck's voice was cold as he released my manhood, wiping his hands on the front of his shirt, "let's see what else we've got here before we join your comrades." With surprising speed, he pushed me forward so that I tripped over L.T.'s body lying unconscious on the ground. "You're going to strip your friend there," he nodded his head to Lieutenant Brown.
I drew myself up to a kneeling position beside my unconscious OIC, anger rising in my throat. "No way, you son of a bitch!" My humiliation in front of these men was one thing, but a man I respected and admired being degraded in such a manner was unthinkable. "You fucking perverts leave him alone!"
Peck's eyes glinted evil as he sneered down at me. "But, we're not going to touch him," he sounded almost innocent, his palms spread outward, "you're going to do all the work." He reached down and grabbed the short hair on the top of my head, bending my neck back to look up at him, "With your teeth." A burst of guffaws erupted from the band of men surrounding me.
Blood burned hot and red into my face as Peck's grip on my scalp forced my face toward L.T.'s belt buckle. "Now get to work, jarhead." Even though I couldn't see his face, I could hear the sneer in Peck's voice. I hesitated on all fours, mumbling my apologies to my unconscious OIC, thankful that he, at least, was spared the indignity of what was happening.
"Do it, scumbag!" Dieter's voice spat as he moved into position behind me. "Unless you want a fuckin' lead enema." I felt the hard, cold steel of the M-16's muzzle push against my exposed asshole. The raucous laughter of the group of black-clad men echoed in my ears as I took the web belt in my teeth and worked it from the buckle.
I had some difficulty with the buttons on the fly of L.T.'s BDU's, but the prodding of the muzzle up my chute provided sufficient incentive, and finally, the trousers gaped open with the white briefs bulging through. The lieutenant's hefty endowment was overtly evident in the bulging cotton underwear, and anger choked my throat as I heard the hoots and catcalls directed at his meat. I silently cursed the captors, then myself for my inability to protect my fallen leader.
"C'mon, c'mon!" Dieter's voice was impatient as he prodded the M-16 further past my butt hole. "Get that pig's fuckpole exposed, maggot! I wanna see what he's been shoving up your puckered red asshole. Bet he's got you loosened pretty good with that fucker, huh, dirtball?"
Frustration and humiliation fed my anger, and I considered all the things I was going to do to this neanderthal at my first opportunity. L.T.'s weight prevented my attempts to pull his BDU's off his hips, so, propping my upper body with my left hand, I reached my right hand up to pull at the gaping waistband.
"You were TOLD to use your TEETH, fuckhead!" Dieter's foot kicked my supporting left hand from under me, causing me to fall forward, smashing my face into L.T.'s ample crotch. The odor of man musk filled my nostrils as I turned around to glare at the hulking man in black. He stood behind me, a glassy-eyed sneer on his face, one hand gripping the stock of the M-16 while the other squeezed at the impressive cylindrical bulge at his right thigh. He laughed at my pathetic attempt at defiance. "Bet that's not the first time your mouth was up close and personal with that fucker, huh, dickhead?" A chorus of guffaws sounded from the gathered crowd and Dieter pushed the muzzle of the weapon further up my hole. A sudden cloud darkened his face, the sneer turning to a scowl. "Back to work!"
The hard steel entering my guts hurt like hell, and I was sure there were going to be a few days of bloody shit from the damage being wrought. I also thought I'd be damned lucky if that was the only thing I had to worry about in the next few days. In the brief seconds before returning to the lieutenant's clothing, I glimpsed the other captors surrounding me. Several were groping at their own crotches, others were watching intently, their tongues licking at their smirking lips.
After seeming hours of gently rocking L.T.'s hips as I pulled at the waistband with my teeth, I was able to get his BDU trousers halfway down his thighs. All the while bearing the snide comments and hoots of my captors. L.T.'s bulging white briefs gleamed in the moonlight, and I mumbled "I'm sorry, Sir" over and over to his motionless body.
The underwear was somewhat easier to manage, and shortly I had them pulled down as well, leaving my unconscious officer's manhood fully exposed and vulnerable. Sharp valleys formed at the juncture of his thighs and flat abdominal muscles. His thick, lengthy meat extended heavily from a dark nest of fur, and over his oval, egg sized balls. I noticed the catcalls became subdued as the monster dick came into view. I couldn't blame them. The sight of L.T.'s cock always took MY breath away. I closed my eyes and inhaled the intoxicating, masculine scent of his crotch, thinking with certainty that there were at least a few of those around me that envied my position.
My brief reverie was broken by a firm grip pulling my hair, forcing me to a kneeling position. I opened my eyes to look up at Peck's harsh, grinning face. "Well, now," he said, bringing the toe of his boot up to my groin, "it looks like you're enjoying yourself after all." I glanced down, humiliated, at old Snake, fully engorged and bouncing lightly on the tip of Peck's tapping foot.
The other men, their attention drawn to their boss's foot, began hooting and whistling at my unbidden erection. I felt the M-16 muzzle pulled painfully from my ass as Dieter stepped around in front of me to get a better view. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, that sneer distorting his face. "I knew it," he spat shaking his head. "I KNEW the dickhead was a faggot." A bitter laugh erupted from his throat, "Of course, it was pretty obvious since the terms 'Mary' and 'marine' are synonymous. Right, cunt face?"
That was it. Personal humiliation was one thing, but NOBODY derides the Corps! Instinctively, I launched myself at the bastard, causing Peck to stumble backward over L.T.'s body as I grabbed for Dieter's bull-like throat. His eyes registered brief surprise, his weapon dropping from his hand as my thumbs pressed into his larynx, and suddenly four men were grabbing at my arms and legs, pulling me from the taunting hulk. I struggled futilely as my arms were held behind my back, my legs splayed wide. Dieter recovered almost instantly and stepped forward rubbing at his throat with one hand as he reached out with the other to grasp my exposed and defenseless nutsack. "You're gonna regret that," he almost whispered. A broad, evil grin spread across his face as his fingers tightened on my balls and began to twist.
In spite of the pain, I hocked up a wad of phlegm and spat into his square-jawed face. He moved his hand from his throat to wipe away the slime, then a burst of light lit up the night as he suddenly backhanded me, knocking my head to the side. My vision cleared and I saw Peck brushing himself off as he stood on the other side of L.T.'s supine form. I watched as he stooped down and plucked the dart from the lieutenant's blood stained chest and twirled it between his fingers as he took the few steps toward me.
He studied the dart as if it were some rare flower. "That really wasn't very smart." He brought his eyes up to look into mine. "How would you like to have this thing shoved up your fucking ass?" He held the small, sharp object directly in front of my face. I swallowed hard, the twisting of Dieter's hand on my balls causing a nauseous bile to rise in my throat. "Or better yet," his eyes narrowed as the edges of his mouth curled into a slight grin, "maybe I should just slide it down your prick, huh?" Saying this, he reached for my cock and seemed somewhat surprised to find it still hard. It throbbed in his fist, clear precum oozing out and onto his thumb. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, waiting for the inevitable agony of the dart tearing into my urethra.
To be continued..
