Raw Recruits

by Zack

  Luke leaped, landed on Jan’s back, and dragged him to the ground. He was just about to push the gymnast’s face into the mud when Jan spoke. “Clever, Luke, but I advise you to go no further.”

  Luke was stunned. Jan hadn’t yet seen who had jumped him. His hesitation was enough for Jan, who threw his assailant over in a single powerful thrust. In a breath, Luke found himself pinned to the ground in turn with Jan lying across his chest. Jan’s blue eyes blazed into his own only inches away and there was laughter in them.

  “I’ve been watching you my friend and that’s why I gave you this task. It was clever of you to split them into two units, but I guessed you would come on alone. You seem eager for a repeat of our first encounter?”

  “Too fucking right I am,” Luke spat out. “Only this time it’s gonna be my cock that reams your ass!”

  “For that I’m afraid you’ll have to wait, but you can at least have a small reward. Or perhaps not so small.” He laughed. “Here they are.”

  Standing in the hut’s entrance were the two Haitian giants who had dealt with Alan on the parade ground. Jan got off him and they reached down and hauled Luke to his feet before he could stop them. They dropped their pouches and their fantastic black weapons unfurled between their legs. One of them stood in front of Luke and ripped his soggy, muddied pants down, while the other slid sinuously behind him. Both were at least six inches taller than Luke and they pressed against him, the white meat in a black sandwich. He was trapped between their hard, muscle-bound bodies, and his face buried in the valley between two bulging pectorals. The rough dusky skin rubbed at his cheek and the powerful animal scent of the man filled his nostrils. One long, spongy cock pressed against his abdomen, the other against his ass. They began to move up and down on their toes and rub him between them.

  Luke was beginning to sweat profusely from the smoldering pre-orgasmic heat that the blacks exuded, and it fueled the motion of their bodies as they slid and slithered against his skin. The sponginess pressing him rapidly became harder. The cock pressed to his stomach forced up against his abdomen with the power of a waking snake until he could feel the great mushroom of a glans against his chest. So fucking big! He could actually feel the blood pumping into the cock meat to expand the shaft until it was rock hard. Copious quantities of warm, clear pre-cum oozed from the slit and matted the hairs on Luke’s chest.

  He was intoxicated by the overpowering sensuousness—they were torturing him with it. His own cock grew rigid between the thighs in front of him and the huge man squeezed him tightly.

  Then the foreplay ended. The Haitian behind him bent down, grasped him behind his knees, and lifted him off the ground until he rested against the guy’s broad chest, his legs pulled up to his own chest, his asshole bared. Then the man in front lowered his head and Luke felt his thick-lipped mouth against his hole. The rimmer explored him intimately, spread his sphincter with a long, hot tongue that matched the Haitian’s dick in proportion. He forced it right inside, worked it up and down, round and around. Luke writhed in the powerful grasp of the man holding him at the exquisite worship of his ass hole. Then the guy withdrew to squirt spit up him, which he spread around Luke’s quivering pucker.

  Luke was only hazily aware of Jan, hands casually resting on his slim hips, watching his humiliation with sardonic pleasure.

  The giant stood up from under him and stepped back, arching backward so that his wicked, dripping weapon pointed at Luke. The one holding him, carried him forward and effortlessly hauled Luke higher. Then he lowered his burden sufficiently to place Luke’s asshole with precision on the pink cock head. Then he rammed him down onto the waiting meat, which drilled up inside him. The breath was torn from his body by the shock and he threw his head back and moaned long and hard.

  The man fucking him was like a sentinel, unbending, unmoving. All the pump action came from the man supporting Luke’s helpless body. He was tireless as he reamed Luke up and down on his comrade’s shaft. Waves of fire washed Luke as the broad, flanged cock head tortured his prostate with grinding thrusts. It was an awesome feeling, helpless as a babe in one giant’s hold while the other impaled his innards. He wanted to grab his own meat and beat it off unmercifully but he couldn’t move his arms.

  Then the rampant cock inside him gushed thick cum, filling his bowels until it squeezed out the sides of his asshole. But still it wasn’t over. His captor dropped him and thrust him on his back in the mud churned up by their feet, lifted Luke’s legs high, and plunged into him. The big body lying over him panted and thrust and fucked him like an animal. He wrapped his great arms around Luke and began rolling him around in the mud still thrashing his cock into him.

  “Oh God! Oh fuck! fuck! Yeah … aaahh!”

  The black man’s balls boiled over and he rammed Luke so hard that they slithered backward in the mud and slime, and Luke let loose copious jets of cum in a long climax.

  The second guy had finished with him and stood up. Luke lay flat out, mired in swamp muck and cum. He wriggled as the last drops of sperm dribbled from his cock.

  In his bliss-hazed mind, there was only one coherent thought. Fucking Jan had fuckin gotten away with it again … fuckit.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Island Rum Orgy

  It was twilight by the time they reached the compound. Jan had led them through the mangroves along a narrow causeway that had not been marked on the map. When they regained the beach all the recruits, and Luke in particular, had been glad to go for a long swim to clean the swamp stink and slime from their bodies.

  Jan did not join them in the sea, but sat on the sand watching the recruits play. Luke left the water before the others and went to sit at a short distance from the gymnast. Once or twice he sensed Jan’s eyes on him and swiveled his head to return the gaze. There was something in those eyes that was not sexual hunger, as he might have hoped. No, it was as though Jan were appraising Luke in quite a different way. Luke had the feeling that he wanted to say something, but instead he stood up abruptly and called the others out of the sea.

  Back at the compound they were allowed the treat of washing and shaving in fresh water for the first time since the two LearJets had slammed down on the runway. On a Caribbean atoll of this size sweet water was at a premium.

  Several cases of beer—local bottled stuff, not in cans—had been delivered to the bunkhouse and the other recruits were already getting tanked up for the coming party. The night was stifling once the light sea breeze died down and several of the men hadn’t bothered to dress yet. A few of the hornier guys were already warming their dicks up and wetting their asses with some horseplay.

  In the room next to Luke’s billet four of them were seeing how much beer they could drink with their assholes. Two were bent over for their comrades to insert the neck of a bottle up their holes and, by contracting and expanding the ass muscles, suck up the fizzy brown fluid. One buck—it was the irrepressible Brit, Alan, again ( he seems to delight in sex involving beer, Luke thought)—managed to drink nearly a whole bottle in this way, but as soon as the bottle was pulled out a cock was smacked up his dripping ass and the beer squirted out. Brown, frothing rivers drenched the offending balls and ran down muscular thighs. They separated and collapsed in a wrestling hold on the floor. One of the roomies went for the dripping cock and another sought Alan’s asshole and lapped at the beer still oozing from him.

  Luke reclined lazily against the open door, choosing to stay back and watch, saving his juice for later. Besides, he was still sore from the wild reaming he had gotten earlier in the mangrove swamp.

  At twenty-two hours, the sergeant came in and ordered them to get some pants on and report to the hacienda gate in ten minutes. When they arrived he formed them into two rows and marched the recruits through the opened gateway.

  The walled courtyard was much larger than it had appeared from the outside, a paradise of clearly imported flowers and shrubs. Two fountains, which splashed down into large, ornately decorated basins, provide
d a brief hint of freshness to the sticky night. Water ran from the basins along shallow runnels into a large swimming pool on the far side of the courtyard. Figurative and abstract sculptures set among the profuse vegetation advertised the owner’s sophisticated taste. The fragrance of night-blooming jasmine, moon flowers, and frangipanis scented the tropical air.

  At its center the courtyard, covered with white paving stones, was clear of any ornaments and planting but piles of cushions sat around four low tables. These were piled high with an exotic feast set out on silver dishes. Silver plates and flatware scintillated with golden highlights from numerous candles protected from the occasional breeze inside glass globes. And everywhere there were cut-glass goblets and decanters full of wine: red, white, and rosé.

  The two-story hacienda closed one side of the large space. The face of the house presented a long expanse of window, at the moment heavily-draped, which opened onto a wide porch set two steps above the courtyard. The sergeant formed his troop into two lines at the foot of the steps, stood to one side, and called them to attention.

  They waited.

  A few moments later one of the full-height window panes slid silently back and the richly embroidered muslin drapes were drawn aside to reveal a brief glimpse of a room elaborately decorated in colonial Spanish style. The figure of a man, silhouetted against the room’s light, stepped onto the shadowy porch and then to the top of the steps into the well-lit courtyard.

  “Gentlemen,” the sergeant announced crisply, “Herr Bruno Ström.”

  Evil! It was the first impression that hit Luke before he took in the details of Ström—an aura of malevolence. He stood on the edge of the porch, motionless, and gazed down at the men. He looked to be in his mid-fifties, built like a bull, and just as fit. The barrel chest filled the brown shirt with its black tie, tapering with no hint of fat into the close-fitting black polo jodhpurs. His black riding boots were polished to a high gloss. A large head on its thick neck still carried a full head of iron-gray hair, but closely cropped. It was the eyes, however, set above the long straight nose and thin lips, that held Luke’s attention. Deep-set and narrow, the black orbs glittered cruelly in their sockets under heavy brows.

  “Welcome to my home,” he said quietly with only a trace of an accent. “I am giving this feast to you as a small token of my appreciation for what you will soon do for me. Before you is the food and the drink—eat and build your strength for the entertainment we shall have later.”

  Most of the recruits grinned at the mention of entertainment, remembering the night in the bar. Now Ström seemed to be offering something even better. Luke wasn’t sure, though. There seemed to be subtleties behind the simple words. And then there had been that ghastly scream the night before from this very spot. On the other hand, perhaps the man was just an old faggot into uniforms, tough bodies, and a bit of bondage and sadomasochism. But Luke wasn’t sure about any of it. Still, he thought, free food, free hootch, and free ass…might as well enjoy it.

  The other recruits moved off toward the tables. Luke remained a moment, lost in thought. He noticed Ström watching him with those cruel, calculating eyes. A cold chill ran up and down his spine and he shivered.

  Ström clapped his hands and six young dark coffee-colored lads appeared through the curtains. “These will attend to your needs,” he pronounced firmly before seating himself in a large chair on the porch.

  There were whoops, cheers, and lusty sucking sounds from the recruits as the six youths walked down the steps. Each had small but firmly-built bodies, the muscle contours etched below delicate skin, and firm meaty asses. They wore only white posing pouches, but beneath them they had more than average bulges for their age.

  As they moved among the tables big hands reached out for them to stroke, squeeze, and pinch their tight youthful bodies. Fingers groped rounded ass cheeks and thrust up into their warm insides.

  “You, boy,” said one recruit, “let me taste that cute cock of yours.” He pulled the pouch away as the boy stood meekly in front of him and a hefty six-inch cock flopped out. The recruit licked his lips and dipped the boy’s fat pink cock head into his wine, stirring it around. Lifting it out he placed the tip in his mouth and sucked the shaft into him, tongued it for a few seconds and then pulled it out with mock sucking sounds.

  “Mmm, you sweet little fucker, I’m gonna eat that meat of yours and I want your cock-juice with it!”

  He dipped the cock into his wine again and began sucking greedily, taking it down to his throat muscles and then biting the thick base gently. The boy’s rod rapidly stiffened, smooth and slicked with spit. The kid began to thrust and moan in a soft keening voice that made the recruit wilder for his young cum. He thrust his fingers between the flexing ass cheeks getting two of them up inside and groping around for the prostate. He found it and began pressing it rapidly and the boy hissed and moaned more loudly and shot his sweet juice into the waiting throat.

  There was laughter around the table as the man gagged on the unexpectedly big cargo of jizz.

  “Hey let’s see if they’ve all got big loads of that hot stuff,” somebody shouted out and soon the other five servants had their cocks sunk between hot lips and milked of their cream. It was decided that there wasn’t much to choose between them and they were all hot little numbers who were going to be fucked stupid later in the evening. The recruits temporarily lost interest in them and set about filling their stomachs with the lavish fare and getting tanked on the freely flowing wine.

  Throughout the meal, Ström remained on the porch, seated calmly in his wooden throne-like chair, observing them. Luke glanced at him now and then and could have sworn that the sinister aura about the man was growing, as though he were absorbing the zest and vitality of their playful male energy, feeding on it. Luke shook his head and decided he must be getting a bit hammered, and slowed his wine guzzling.

  Ström clapped his hands again and ordered two of the boys to bring some of his special native rum. He assured the recruits it would revive their spirits, which he noted were flagging after the heavy meal. The boys handed several bottles around and Luke took an experimental swig of the colorless liquor. The stuff seemed to explode into a sweet heavy vapor as it seared down his throat. He felt as if the top of his head was blowing off—then it hit his stomach and combusted.

  “Jeez!” he spluttered and took another swig. The lights in the courtyard seemed to get brighter and his hearing more acute. A great warm cloud filled his body and he felt waves of heat roiling in his groin.

  The sounds of the party grew louder again and the recruits more boisterous as they drained bottle after bottle. A few of the guys stripped off and dived into the pool, while others reached for the nearest body and licked, explored, sucked, bit as the group heat rose. Luke’s thinking processes approached blank-out but he retained just enough rationality to realize that the powerful aphrodisiac in the rum had done something alarming to their natural lustiness, that it now raged through their veins and heated the seed in their balls to boiling point.

  He felt a pain in his pants and saw with some surprise that he had a massive boner. He reached down and ripped off his constraining bushwhacker shorts and sighed at the welcome release as his cock shot free. He tried to grasp the throbbing meat but the very touch of his fingers sent rivers of almost unbearable ecstasy ripping into his balls and up through his abdomen.

  Then he felt a line of fire burn down his chest and opened his eyes to find one of the serving boys drawing a fingernail down his skin. Luke breathed in sharply at the sensation and the kid responded by scratching all five nails lightly down to his navel. It felt as if the boy was tearing him apart, could almost sense the blood spurting out, but it was a delicious pain that demanded surrender.

  The boy bent his head and began to suck Luke’s wildly erect nipples, each in turn, and Luke writhed and suffered the delicious agony of sharp nipping teeth setting his heaving chest ablaze. His mind detached itself from his physical being and suddenly he
could see what happened to him from above as well as reacting to what the boy was doing to him as though he were still within his body.

  Hell, I’ve gotta cum or I’ll die.

  “Suck my cock,” he saw/heard himself whisper.

  The boy lunged forward and slid his lips over the throbbing helmet of Luke’s large, hot, almost exploding cock. Luke watched its entire length disappear into the sucking mouth. From without, the sight was exciting. From within, it was as though he’d been swallowed by a volcano. Red ecstatic pain engulfed his body, emanating from the searing heat of his cock head, which pressed the back of the boy’s throat. Luke saw the boy gasp as two inches of solid flesh dropped deep into his tight gullet. He felt the boy’s face brush his trimmed pubic hair. The boy raised his head and Luke watched with fascination at the sight of his throat deflating to its normal thickness as inch after inch of runny cock emerged from between the servant’s lips. Not all, though. He held Luke’s cock head in his mouth and tortured it by dancing his fiery tongue across the exquisitely sensitive piss-slit. Then the hot lips descended again along his vibrating shaft, which grew harder and longer and fatter. And then he was in the throat again.

  “Oh, shit! Ooh yeah! Suck my cock. Shit! Suck my big fuckin cock. Take it, swallow it. That’s it … Yeah!”

  He couldn’t see the explosion of his cum from his disembodied floating position above the action, but he did see the sudden ballooning of the boy’s cheeks as the blast filled his mouth; and from inside Luke was sure he would blow the small head apart. Then came a loud gulp, an esophageal spasm, and the mouth took in the next ejaculation. Luke knew he had never cum so hard before as he fed the boy’s mouth and gullet. It seemed to go on forever. He thought for a moment that he would drown the youth, but the servant gobbled it up until it squeezed from the corners of his mouth and ran down Luke’s still throbbing tool.