by Zack
Suddenly he grunted, urged himself upright and hurled himself at Alan’s prostrate form. He landed on his knees between the outspread legs. With expert precision he folded his body forward and rammed the massive dick straight up the exposed asshole until his big balls slammed against Alan’s ass cheeks.
Alan screamed and squirmed but the black man was already fucking him with feverish madness. Within seconds he seemed to reach orgasm and jetted his load deep in Alan for a second before he pulled out from his sacrificial offering in a bubbling fountain of jizz.
His partner caught some of the hot, creamy stream in his hands, rubbed it on his own boner, vaulted off Alan’s back to settle between his legs and drove his cock straight in. Alan was nearly delirious but this second violation also lasted for only a few seconds before the man withdrew his dripping shaft.
The stunned recruits watched this performance in awed silence.
“I warned you cocksuckers that I would know if you slacked. That was Alan’s reward for not picking himself up off the ground fast enough.” He turned in a half circle, taking in all the recruits. “And that was merely a trailer for what will happen to the next man.”
He treated the parade to one of his mean-lipped smile.
“In fact, if you ask your comrade, you’ll find that it really wasn’t as painful as it looked, for these two Haitian beauties are experts at their work. Okay, get him untied, have your breakfast, and report back here in one hour.”
Two recruits lurched into motion and went to free Alan and help him to his feet. In confirmation of the sergeant’s words they saw that—amazingly—he was jack-shit hard as anything and seemed only dazed. He shook his body like a dog coming out of water, took in his two rescuers with a lop-sided grin, and muttered, “Fucksakes, suck me off somebody quick, I’m about to burst.”
The two men looked at each other, and then both bent, banging their heads before one won out and offered an obliging mouth, and Alan rapidly shot his cum, while the loser held him beneath the arms to support him as his powerful orgasm flowered.
As Luke and Harry drifted off toward the mess hut, Luke said wistfully, “I wish it had been me that fell down. It was amazing how they did him like that without half killing him. I’ve never seen anybody fucked so fast … maybe that was it.”
“It’s more important that we know they’ve got cameras all over the island,” Harry retorted.
Harry’s serious tone brought Luke back to earth. He remembered the events of the night before as he and Jimbo had passed the hacienda and related them briefly.
Harry listened thoughtfully, frowning the more he heard. “Do you s’pose this Ström guy is on the island already, holed up in the hacienda? If he is then he must be into some pretty weird shit, and that means the sergeant’s in it up to his neck.”
“Maybe we’ll get a chance to have a look-see in that place. This thing gets weirder by the hour.”
During breakfast Luke noticed Jimbo deep in conversation with Sam. The Jamaican cast glances in his direction every so often. It disturbed Luke.
“It looks like he’s telling Sam about last night, which is pretty dumb, cos Sam strikes me as being the nervous kind, and who knows who he might tell next.”
“I’ll keep an eye on Sam,” said Harry, “You watch Jimbo.”
Breakfast finished, the recruits reassembled in the square in full combat gear. A minute later, the sergeant stepped smartly out of the command hut, bearing a coil of lightweight nylon mountaineering cord over one shoulder. “Now we start to separate the boys from the men. Follow me.”
With the sergeant in the lead, they marched to an assault course out beyond the airstrip, where they found Jan waiting. As soon as the last man was assembled, he addressed them curtly.
“With one or two exceptions, you all think you’re pretty tough, experienced soldiers, and that might be true here and there, but for those of you who haven’t been through one of these courses before, I’ll give you a demonstration.” His gimlet gaze took in each man in turn. He raised his chin. “When you can do this as well as me, you won’t need the protection of that combat gear.”
With that he stripped off to his jock strap, his lean, rock-hard body proud in the bright sun. Luke felt the desire rising like an old friend again and determined to find a way to get the gymnast on his own soon.
The first obstacle of the course was comprised of two fences each about fifteen feet high, set about fifty feet apart, and fashioned from palm tree trunks laid horizontally and strapped at their ends to vertical supporting boles. A thick rope joined the tops of the two fences and the ground between them was strewn with coils of lethal looking razor wire.
Jan set off at a run and leaped at the first fence, accurately slipping his fingers into the narrow spaces between the logs for a hold and then climbing hand over hand to the top. Rather than reach down and take the rope, he jumped, catching it as he fell, and hauled himself along hand over hand. His feet were trailing only inches above the razor wire as the rope sagged. The muscles of his long lissom body stood out in sharp definition and his gluteus muscles flexed with the effort.
He gained the second fence and jumped to the ground. He landed nimbly on the balls of his feet and folded his body into a roll to easily absorb the impact. He sprang briefly upright and then dropped flat on the sand and began to slide snake-like through a second set of wire coils—barbed this time—stretched out in rows so that there was only just enough room for a body to pass.
For the next few minutes they watched in awe as he completed the rest of the course. He climbed vertical nets, shinned up ropes, crossed a stagnant pool of water tightrope fashion on a narrow tree trunk, and swung with the agility of an ape along a line of ropes hung from a wooden frame.
He arrived back in front of the recruits without a mark on his beautiful body and not in the least breathless from his exertions.
“Your turn now. I’ll be lenient with you for the first rounds, and for the time being you can keep your gear on.”
They made the first circuit of the course with little difficulty, a couple of the beefier recruits getting snagged as they crawled through the barbed wire and three of them falling into the pool. As each of them finished the course they were allowed one minute’s rest and then ordered to perform another circuit. After the third circuit, six recruits, including Jimbo, had fallen in the stinking water and their uniforms were sodden and covered with slimy mud, dripping water weeds, and sand.
On the fourth circuit the sergeant positioned himself at the exit to the barbed wire gauntlet and began putting his boot into the ass of any recruit who was too slow.
“Move you little shitass!”
BOOT!
“Crawl you bastard fucking cocksucker!”
BOOT!
Luke made his round without mishap, but he could tell that Jimbo ahead of him was struggling. Jimbo’s gear was now so heavily laden with water and mud that he found it more and more difficult to crawl through the barbed wire tunnel without getting snagged. As he finally emerged at the end the sergeant slammed his boot down and kicked him over onto his back. Jimbo tried to get to his feet.
“Bastard white prick!” he yelled,”I’ll fuckin kill you!”
But his waterlogged kit held him back and he’d barely managed to get to his knees when the sergeant booted him viciously in the balls. Jimbo doubled over with a moan and fell partly onto the last coil of wire. Thanks to the protective battle kit he took only a few scratches, but the sergeant wasn’t finished. With a broad snarling grin, he bent down and pulled the Jamaican from the barbs by his boots. Jimbo yelped in pain as the cruel points shredded his battle dress and raked the flesh of his back.
The troop paused to watch the humiliation.
“You two,” the sergeant called out, pointing his stick at Sam and Alan, who were the nearest, “pick him up and follow me.”
He stalked off to a nearby palm tree and picked up the coil of rope he’d dumped there earlier. He made Sam and Alan hold Jimb
o upright while he tied him by the arms and ankles to the tree. The combat knife made a wicked hiss as he unsheathed the dark-gray blade. Luke feared for Jimbo, but the sergeant wasn’t bent on using the knife on the Jamaican’s flesh. Instead he slit Jimbo’s pants, then tore them to pieces all the way to his feet so the ribbons flapped sluggishly in the slight breeze where they hung from his belt. The ripping revealed Jimbo’s slime-streaked muscles and numerous small wounds which oozed blood to run down over his bruised cock and balls.
“Let this be a lesson to the rest of you,” the sergeant called to the watching recruits. “Learn it well or you’ll be dead by midnight tomorrow.”
Luke had watched the episode with a mixture of admiration and unease. He had seen worse degradation inflicted by the army trainers in Helmand, but felt it was a mistake to have chosen Jimbo as an example. The Jamaican was too rebellious.
‘Okay, that’s enough horseplay.” Jan gathered them together. “Now it’s time to make circuits of the assault course without all that kit. So strip down, hup, hup! And you’re going to do it within the specified time limit I’ll give each of you.”
They were driven hard for the next two hours, their bodies increasingly covered with sweat-streaked mud and blood. Those who faltered were not beaten, but instead dragged before Jimbo’s limply bowed body bound to the bole of the palm tree, his muscles slack in submission. His humiliation was an example to all.
Jan called a halt when the searing tropical sun reached its zenith. “You’ve done well. I suggest you go to the beach and relax. Lunch will be in an hour’s time and you will assemble in the briefing hut at fifteen-hundred hours.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Swamp Sandwich
The languid waters of the lagoon soon restored their spirits as they washed the sweat and crap from their strained muscles, and laughed off the stinging effect of salt water on the grazes and scratches. At first there was none of the usual fooling around. Some eased the tension by floating languidly, others chose to lie on the beach and soak up some rays. But for a few the stress was not so easily relieved, the demands placed on their bodies eased only by the release of the creamy hot maleness that boiled in their loins. Soon, several pairs of bodies, dicks taut between their legs, rolled entwined in the sand, hungry cocks seeking and gaping asses receiving.
Brad sat close to Luke, who lay on his side, his head propped on one elbow. Luke watched the youngster’s body as Brad tried to dissipate the pressure of the past hours. Dissipate. He admired the rise and fall of Brad’s smooth, golden abdomen and his sinewy pectorals. Brad sagged on his back, spread his legs, raised his knees slightly, and let both hands take hold of his youthful meat, playing with the golden hairs that covered his well-filled ball-sac. The lines of a frown creased his forehead and his eyelids were squeezed tightly shut. There was only one way to help him.
“Brad,” murmured Luke softly, “fuck me, please.”
As though the boy had been waiting for Luke, he opened his eyes, gazed at him a moment, then moved toward him. They held each other tightly. Luke rolled onto his back, raised his knees and dug his feet into the sand. Brad licked at the rivulets of sweat that rolled down Luke’s face with the tip of his tongue. His sea-salted lips settled on Luke’s mouth and their tongues fought, wet and urgent, sharing the saliva in hot rushes. Brad began to move his body against Luke’s. He pushed Luke’s arms above his head and then buried his wet mouth into a sweaty armpit and the tickly warmth shivered Luke from top to the toes he dug deep into the sand.
Luke had been taken by many men but never, he knew, in quite this way, for he felt the boy wanted him, not just his body. Brad was giving him something new and he took it gratefully. His nipples were licked and teased by the young face buried in his broad chest. He abandoned himself to Brad who slid his face on the slick sweat from Luke’s chest onto his abdomen. Luke pressed down on Brad’s head to urge him on.
The force between the boy’s legs was ready to devour him, he knew, but Brad held back. The boy mouthed at his short pubic hair, dampened him, and the nibbles of his sharp young teeth fired tremors into Luke’s cock. Now Brad was between his legs. Luke felt them raised, and then he felt Brad’s hot wet mouth on his quivering ass lips. Brad moaned softly as he tongued out the sexual heat inside Luke. Brad raised Luke’s legs higher and pressed his urgent cock head against him.
Now Brad, now. Take me.
Sensing his unspoken desire, the boy thrust home. No pain, just the sensual delight of being joined with this young body at last. Luke felt a trembling beginning deep inside spread to his stomach as Brad’s hungry cock drove up inside him. It rubbed him, pressed him open as if it belonged inside there. Now the fuck began, the sliding, the squeezing, the melting in his bowels. Faster, faster their bodies flowed together. Luke writhed as some deep emotion took over his body and racked him. He couldn’t, nor wanted, to stop the violent spasms of his loins and stomach. Then he directed every effort into his ass muscles to suck the boy into him as deep as he could. Luke jerked himself furiously and he convulsed with imminent release.
“Now, lover, now,” he cooed and Brad filled him with liquid fire, jetted it into his deepest recesses. The boy fell onto him as Luke’s own creamy jism sprayed into the air, splatting Brad’s sinking chin, and their bodies were held together by the cum.
It was a long time before they separated. Neither spoke, for there was nothing to say, their bodies had done it all. They stood up and walked slowly out into the lagoon and slowly washed each other.
As they headed back up the beach they saw Jimbo and Sam headed for the water. Jimbo limped slightly but he kept pushing Sam’s helping hand away. He held in his hands what was left of his tattered uniform as he waded out, and only after he had soaked the cloth of his shirt did he allow Sam to help him strip it from his bloodied back.
In the mess room, the sergeant informed them that there was only a light lunch since they still had to practice some aspects of the coming assault. “However,” he continued, “Mr. Ström has asked that you meet him at a party he’s holding later tonight, when there’ll be all the food and drink you want.”
The assembled troop gave a cheer and began joking about who would get whose ass or mouth this time.
“At last we get a look at this guy.” Luke spoke quietly as he and Harry ate their grilled rock lobster and salad. “And I’d also like to have a look around that hacienda, if I get the chance. Stay loose at the party for a while at least, I might need your help.”
After lunch, Jan divided them into two squads. One group was to go with the sergeant for some pistol practice. The smaller squad of ten men, which included Luke, Harry, and Brad, had been chosen as an advance party to overpower the guards at the perimeter of the assault island as quickly and as quietly as possible. He led them to the briefing hut and showed them a map.
“You can see from these red markers that the perimeter is well guarded. All except this section, which they have chosen to leave unattended because it’s bordered by a mangrove swamp to the east which extends right down to the sea. If you can enter the grounds of the house through the swamp you should be able to reach the main gate from the inside. You will still have to cross one of the floodlit areas—a potential killing ground—but at least you will have the element of surprise on your side. You are now going to practice that approach in the mangroves that lie farther up this island.
“In the center there’s a small hut where I’ll be waiting. Three of the big Haitian guys—you saw two of them earlier—will be positioned somewhere in the swamp. You must avoid them and approach the hut undetected. You, Luke, will lead the squad. Study this map and begin your assault any time after sixteen-hundred. You won’t need weapons on this occasion and I advise you to wear only your bush shorts. Good luck.”
He left the hut.
Luke studied the map for a while and considered the best approach. As he did so an idea occurred to him. Here was his chance to surprise Jan and take him on his own. He outlined the plan of atta
ck to the men, which involved an assault on two sides. When he was finished he took Harry on one side.
“I’m gonna place Brad in charge of one unit, and you and me will lead the rest. Well before we reach the rendezvous I’ll break off, circle around the rear of the hut, and surprise that fucking gymnast. You take over when I split and take them in slow to give me a chance.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, buddy, he’s likely to whup your ass for something like that.”
“Somehow I don’t think so,” Luke replied confidently.
An hour later they took up their positions on the edge of the mangrove swamp. Brad took his unit in first, followed five minutes later by Luke, Harry, and two others. Brad had been told to make more noise than was necessary as soon as he was in sight of the hut.
They waded into the swamp and were soon immersed up to their chests in stinking, green water. The mud sucked at their boots as they waded between the spider legs of the mangrove trees. On either side flickering mud-skippers covered the soggy banks. Luke prayed they were the only denizens of the mangroves. He spread his men out at ten-yard intervals, but kept Harry close. They sank silently down until only their heads were visible and used the mangrove roots to pull themselves silently along. After half an hour they heard a disturbance from the direction of Brad’s group and Luke knew it was time to split. He signaled Harry to close on him.
“Time to go.”
“Good luck, buddy … but take care.” Harry patted Luke’s head affectionately.
With a circular wave of his hand, Luke turned and waded along a branch of the creek. He took care to make as little disturbance as possible. Insects shrilled and the mud skippers plopped out of his way. A few minutes later he saw the hut standing on a low rise. Jan stood outside looking in the direction of the continuing noises from Brad’s people.
The swamp shallowed as he approached the island which supported the primitive cabin. He circled around stealthily until he lost sight of Jan behind it before hauling himself silently from the water. Slowly, he crept up to the back of the ramshackle building and then made his way, step by silent step, around the side. And there was Jan, only three yards from him, his back turned to Luke. Luke observed through eyes narrowed against the overhead glare. Jan seemed oddly relaxed, under the circumstances. He tensed…
