by Zack
For moments, he passed out as the two realities combined again. He opened his eyes and the boy was gone, but the scene around him had turned wild. Squirming, writhing, arching bodies, frenzied cocks filling any orifice that would take them, jizz-splattered muscles, licking, sucking, hungry tongues. His ejaculation was spent, but his dick was still rigid and he knew he would have to nut again soon.
Through a red haze Luke saw Brad nearby pull his meat from an asshole and crawl away, so he dragged himself over to the shuddering form and thrust his hungry cock in, feeling the thick cum from other fucks gliding him in deep.
“Jerk me off, man,” the recruit beneath him whispered, “Oh fuck, make me shoot, man. Take it! Pump me! Shoot me off!”
He hauled the man to his knees, still fucking his untamed meat into him, reached around and jacked the sticky cum-covered dick. His own cock juice rapidly built and the need to shoot again ripped through his shuddering frame. “I’m cumming stud! Take it, fucker!”
Luke rammed so hard as he pulled the recruit to him that they fell over backward. The man’s full weight sank onto his cock and smacked Luke’s jerking balls into the cleft of his buttocks. The hard shaft in his hand spasmed, then filled it with creamy cum. The body on top of him shook and juddered and the ass muscles convulsed around his cock to urge more jism from him.
The frenzy gradually receded, but the aphrodisiac-powered lust for more remained.
The recruit pulled himself off Luke, grinned, and crawled away to look for more hot action. The immediate unearthly desire in Luke was satiated but that evil voodoo rum in his veins drove his body on. He possessed a new power now and his maleness demanded more than ever before. The drug pumped up his muscles, kept his cock stiff, and his man juices simmering.
The orgy had somewhat abated and only a few recruits still coupled as they sought to relieve the burning in their balls. But those taking a temporary rest clearly felt as Luke did, for their dicks still stuck out at all angles of erection. Everywhere across the courtyard hands stroked their own chests, sides, stomachs, thighs, and schlongs as they kept alive the drug’s power with sensuous touchings.
Luke rose unsteadily to his feet and went over to the horizon swimming pool. Harry and Brad lay side by side at its edge, deeply absorbed in sucking each other in a furious sixty-nine. A few feet away Jim lay on his back, half in the water, eyes tightly shut as he gently fisted his meat. Luke dived in, sure that the volcanic heat his body generated must be making the water boil. He swam like a dolphin, sometimes on the surface, sometimes below. He arched his torso and reveled in the play and extension of his powerful muscles as they pulled him through the silky water.
He came up between Jim’s legs and licked the base of his erect shaft. The boy let go of his meat and spread his arms wide, happy to let Luke take over. Luke propelled them forward to a shallower part of the pool until he could place his feet on the bottom and rest the underside of Jim’s thighs on his broad shoulders.
Jim’s cock was swollen and dusky red after the thrashings he had given it under the influence of the drug and now Luke bent it down over the compressed balls toward his waiting mouth. He tongued the glistening cock head. The boy wriggled with the pressure on the base of his shaft. Luke curled his tongue tightly and pressed it into the piss slit. He relished the taste of cum that still lingered, now mixed with a new flow of pre-cum. He took Jim in deeper and his wet lips slid over the smooth cock head. He bit gently on the curling edge. Jim squirmed and moaned and pulled Luke closer with his legs to he press his ass against Luke’s hairy pectorals.
Luke used one hand to force the straining meat until it pointed straight down between the boy’s legs, and then folded the four fingers of his other hand and worked them up against Jim’s asshole. The lips were already soft and spread wide from the previous fuckings the guy had received, and with the lubrication of the pool water Luke’s fingers drove straight in until they were completely engulfed to his out bent thumb.
“Oh yeah, that’s good … so fuckin good … euurrrgh!”
Luke slowly spread his fingers, wriggled the tips against the soft, juicy bowel lining. He pushed up seeking the sweet spot and at the same time sank his mouth over Jim’s taut cock. It slipped in so easily and Jim’s moans grew in strength as Luke rubbed the cock head back and forth against the inside of his cheek. He tongued the thick, engorged veins and then pushed down more to get it past the top of his throat.
Jim’s ass took Luke’s curled fist so the base of his thumb slipped in, well past the slippery, stretched asshole, and he groped for the prostate and knew he had reached the mark when the boy’s legs convulsed spastically. Jim’s flailing hands found the top of Luke’s head. He shoved down hard until Luke’s nose was buried in curly pubes and his cock head was deep in his sucker’s gullet.
Luke tweaked the gland again and at the same time contracted the muscles of his throat around the cock.
“Oh fuck, that’s so beautiful! Oh yeah! Oh fuckin … yeah! Ahhhhh!”
Jim’s hot jism splurged down Luke’s throat and he let the cock head slip back so that it filled his mouth. Luke swallowed the slick elixir, let the boy’s legs drop from him, and reached over to place his cum-smeared lips on the Jim’s mouth. Their legs entwined and their bodies pressed hard together as Jim licked Luke’s mouth and face and they sank together beneath the water.
They surfaced and swam easily, side by side, to the edge of the pool, where Harry and Brad had been watching them.
“Fuck me!” Harry greeted Luke. “What in hell was in that drink? I could go on like this for days. I feel as if I’ve been on some kind of super-speed.” His half-hard testified to this. “That first rush was fantastic. Let’s go have another swig.”
Luke looked doubtful. “I reckon Ström is giving this party just so he can get off on watching an orgy of young studs and I’m not sure I want to give him the pleasure.”
“Come on, Luke, just for tonight let’s forget the weird things going on. I admit he’s real creepy, but by tomorrow night this thing will be over and we’ll find out what’s going on.”
Luke’s erect cock was pressed up against Jim as they stood together in the pool and it was starting to demand satisfaction again. He knew he wouldn’t be capable of resisting if they stayed where they were. He climbed out of the pool and the foursome staggered back toward the courtyard and the party.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Video Voodoo
During their trysts in the pool, the tables had been cleared and many of the recruits had dragged themselves back to lounge on the cushions drinking. Their sweat- and jizz-splattered bodies glistened in the flickering candlelight. The atmosphere reminded Luke of the first time they had gone into Jimmy’s Bar, and he thought that if Ström were feeding off the hunky male virility in his courtyard, he should be stonked out of his mind by now. He looked around for Ström, but the chair on the porch was empty.
And then the drumming began.
A low rhythmic patter that touched the edges of consciousness without intruding, but insistent, drew Luke’s attention from the hum of conversation around him. Gradually the rest of the recruits became aware and, as the sound and tone of the drums soared and fell and rose again, their attention was caught, sucked up into the hypnotic beat.
The table talk faded as minds and bodies responded to the sensuous throb, at first by hand-tapping as they tried to follow the intricate pattern of the rhythm, and then by a slow swaying of their torsos. Senses heightened by the drugged rum and simmering nerves that craved release, one and all fell under the spell of the summoning drums.
Suddenly Ström was among them. “Follow me, gentlemen, your entertainment is about to commence.”
He led the way from the courtyard, through an archway, and around the side of the big house. The drums grew in volume as they drew nearer the source. Luke and Harry were among the last to rise from the cushions and follow Ström. Luke also felt himself compelled by the drug and his body, but a thought penetrated his fu
zzy brain—he must have a look in the house. Somewhere in there is the key to this whole weird thing.
He glanced at Harry and flicked his head and eyes surreptitiously in the direction of the curtained window. Harry looked puzzled for a moment, understood, and nodded slightly. “Yell, if you need me. I’ll stick to the edge of whatever’s up ahead, so I can warn you if anyone looks like heading your way.”
As the last of the recruits disappeared through the arch, Luke gave one last look around, and then loped toward the long porch. He reached the partly open sliding window, cautiously pulled the drapes aside.
He stood just inside and quickly scanned the low-lit room. He shook his head to try and clear his brain of the insidious drumming and the effects of the laced rum. Louder than the drums was the beat of his heart. On the far side of the room a shaft of brighter light spilled across the tiled floor through the narrow gap of a door left ajar. He picked his way carefully between pieces of ornate furniture. The brightly lit hallway beyond was deserted. He could still hear the drums but somehow the timbre sounded different, tinnier, and it took him long seconds to realize that the sound was coming from a speaker, or something like it.
On the left of the hallway, a few yards ahead, another door stood partly open into the room beyond, and it was from there that the sound issued. Luke slid softly along the wall, heightened senses now at least partly alert. He edged up to the doorway and leaned forward until he could just see with one eye into the room.
One of the Haitian giants, fully dressed this time, sat on an office chair, his back to the door. It was not the man that riveted Luke’s attention, but the long bank of flat-screen monitors that the man watched. On one of the screens Luke could see the deserted courtyard outside. After a second the scene switched to a different angle, then another. A second monitor showed several views in split-screen of their compound parade square. Luke assumed the aerial view was from the watchtower. Then he froze in shock. A third monitor kept cycling through interiors of the bunkhouse billets and he recognized the second instantly as his own room.
Shit! The bastards are spying on us everywhere, monitoring our every movement.
He was still in a state of outraged shock when he spotted yet other devices—a tall stack of RAID drives, their indicator lights all flickering busily, connected to three large-screen Macs. Ström was recording everything that happened on the island, not simply monitoring it. Why? The question pounded in his head.
He had no time to consider. The black guy stretched and stood up, pushing the chair back on its rollers. Luke slipped away and fled silently back outside to the courtyard. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw there wasn’t anyone in sight. He dropped to a cushion. Trying to look relaxed, he reached for a drink, and took a long swig.
“I see you like my rum,” said the quiet voice, “Your young body has not yet had enough? Why don’t you join the rest of us, we may be able to remedy that.”
Only then did Luke see that it was the drugged rum that he had seized and drunk in his panic. Had Ström seen him leave the house? Thanks for warning me, Harry … It seemed not, but with this man you couldn’t be sure. All thought of his discovery went out of his mind as Ström took him by the arm, pulled him to his feet, and led him from the patio. The man’s thick paw bit into his biceps. Luke decided to behave as if he were drunker than he actually was—and then with something approaching relief realized he didn’t have to pretend much. The drug was coursing through his veins again.
* * *
On the other side of the arch the recruits were gathered in a rough circle on a sandy area at the rear of the hacienda. The only light apart from the almost full moon came from a brightly burning brazier in the center. Flames flickered redly on the ring of sweaty faces as they swayed to the beat of three drummers who squatted over their instruments a few yards away. Luke joined the circle and nudged Harry. “Ström found me,” he hissed in his friend’s ear.
Harry detected the intended reproach. “I never saw the fucker leave.”
“I think it’s okay. I was back at the table when he appeared.”
Harry jerked his chin at the other side of the circle and Luke saw that bottles of rum were being passed from man to man. As his eyes grew accustomed to the flickering light he noticed the four huge phalluses. His jaw dropped in surprise at the ominous sight. They had been spaced at the cardinal points to form a hollow square around the brazier. Jet black, about two feet high, resting on big black balls, the material from which they were carved was highly polished and the monstrous things glittered wicked reflections of fire.
Two of the Haitians materialized from the dark at the circle’s farther edge and pushed between the recruits. Luke recognized one from the episode in the swamp, and the other he had just seen in the computer room, entirely naked now like his comrade. Their bodies, including their long, fat, flaccid cocks, were thickly oiled. Streaks of ash made stark white slashes on their foreheads and cheeks and down their upper arms.
Jimbo was right. Ström’s into voodoo!
Luke surveyed the circle looking for the Jamaican and saw him on the opposite side. His swaying from side to side like most of the others betrayed the obvious fact that he was as drugged as the rest, but his eyes were opened wide so that the whites dominated and he stared vacantly ahead. The set of his shiny face expressed something approaching terror.
The drums’ thunder grew louder, the complex rhythm more insistent, and the beaters began a low humming chant. Then the two Haitians started to dance in a mesmerizing, repetitive stomping of their feet which transmitted a series of ripples to their upper bodies. Then they flung their arms high in the air and rotated with heads thrust far back. As they circled with shuffling feet they began to gyrate their upper torsos in a swaying motion. Luke felt his own body begin to move in imitation. It felt erotic and added to the heightened sense of his own hard, potent maleness created by the aphrodisiac. Others too moved as he did in sympathy with the drums and the black giants. He felt his cock begin to rise and hungered for their bodies.
But the drums held them where they were, eyes transfixed on the two dancing studs, whose gyrations grew faster and more urgent. They moved their heads now in sweeping circular motions that grew wider and wider until the trunk above their hips too rotated.
Incredibly, Luke saw that their cocks were rapidly growing rigid until within seconds they were standing out like black flag poles from their glistening bodies. He had never seen anyone get an erection as fast as that and his own stiff meat jerked at this display of virility. Luke was so absorbed at the sight that he did not at first see the sergeant step into the circle.
He also had his naked body greased and painted in gray ash, and walked as if in a trance. He carried a live cockerel, holding it by means of a wire fastened around one of the poor bird’s legs. It fluttered madly, trying to twist its neck and head upright to peck at the sergeant’s hands, but he took no notice. He knelt down, forced a short stake into the ground, and fixed the wire to it. The cockerel, back on its feet, crowed and attempted to run away, only to be brought up short by the wire. It beat its wings in panic for a moment and then lay still.
The sergeant threw his head back, mouth wide open, and held his arms out in front of him as if in supplication. The drum beat grew faster and louder, and the two gargantuan Haitians stood in front of him. His body began to shake at an unnatural speed. The voodoo dancers thrust their rampant maleness at the shuddering man, and their bodies too began to quiver in sympathy. The weird undulations began at their feet and gradually worked up their thick calves and into the muscled thighs; then it started with their heads and gradually worked down their massive chests into rock-cut abdominals. Luke was hypnotized and then found himself gasping, for as the vibrations reached the dancers’ groins they jutted forward and thick ropes of cum gushed from their pulsing cocks into the sergeant’s praying mouth, and over his face and chest.
They never even touched their dicks!
The sergeant moaned a
s rivers of jism continued to splatter him, and he gulped and swallowed. He fell forward into a crouch and then flicked upright again. The dancers strutted toward the brazier and each picked up a cat o’nine tails and began lashing the sergeant’s back. After three lashes from each, the sergeant picked up the cockerel and the whipping resumed. The man’s face shone in ecstasy as, with sudden and terrible force, he snapped the cockerel’s neck and literally tore off its head. A gout of blood shot from the severed neck. The fluttering body staggered to its feet and the headless bird ran around the stake in ever shortening circles, until it collapsed in spastic spurts of blood. With a final series of twitches the feathered bundle lay still.
One dancer turned and hefted up a black phallus, dipped its tip in the cockerel’s pooling blood, and then strode around the circle of recruits, pointing the gory weapon at each one in turn. The drums rose to a frenzied rhythm as he walked around the ring. As he approached Jimbo, the Jamaican let out a long wail of terror, took to his heels, and ran across the circle. He swerved past the flaming brazier toward Luke, and thrust through his comrades. Luke whirled to see Jimbo, black on black, disappear into the darkness beyond.
The drumming stopped instantly, leaving a stunning silence that lasted until Luke’s ears cleared, and the night sounds of the jungle reestablished themselves. The spell was broken.
Ström stepped into the circle, his face suffused with dark fury.
“You should all return to your quarters. Now.”
Everyone shook themselves as though waking from some dreadful nightmare. No one wanted to look anyone else in the eyes. And then, with subdued mutterings, the gathering broke apart and the men shakily began to trickle back through the archway toward the courtyard. No one spoke, even when they reached the bunkhouse. Jim, Brad, Luke, Harry, and Sam pushed into their billet and piled up inside the door. Jimbo hulked under a blanket on his bunk. He was shaking like he had palsy. Sam went to pull the covering off the Jamaican’s head and reeled back in horror. The others peered closely and saw his eyes were wide white orbs, the dark brown irises barely visible under the upper lid.
