We were divided into smaller groups, each overseen by a pair of guards who appeared less than comfortable in their black fatigues. As the sun rose higher and the day warmed, I was almost grateful to be wearing nothing more than the handcuffs on my left wrist and my birthday suit. Well, and of course, the fucking cockring. L.T. and I labored with several other men in the working fields surrounding the compound, our already tanned skin darkening still more in the relentless sun. Occasionally I would become careless and pull on the joining handcuffs, but L.T. would just grunt and continue on with his work. I knew that the artificial cock embedded in his ass had to be painful, and I also knew that the only reason he suffered this degradation was to protect me from further torture. Shit, I respected the hell out of this man.
Somewhere around noon, with the sun at full apex, a whistle sounded, and we were herded back to the main compound. Our skin was slickened with sweat, and I glanced over to see the thick fur on L.T.'s chest matted and glistening, as rivulets ran from his armpits down his side. As we walked, his pendulous cock and balls would swing from side to side, tapping at my left hand. For his part, L.T. appeared not to notice as he continued striding tall, silent and proud. But the repeated touch of his manmeat was driving me crazy, and I bit the inside of my cheek, drawing blood, as I fought to keep old Snake under control.
We arrived back at the barn where we had assembled that morning and rejoined our fellow captives already in formation. Dieter had one of them kneeling at his feet: obviously, the tattooed, hairy italian that Ski had mentioned. The man's face was only inches from Dieter's bulging crotch, as he was berated for some infraction. As we fell in with the others, Dieter looked over at us. "Hey, big man! Front and center. You got somethin' of mine, and I want it back."
Lieutenant Brown strode over to stand by Dieter's side, and I, of course, had to accompany him. He looked Dieter straight in the eye, expressionless. Dieter sniffed dramatically, a look of disgust crossing his face. "You fucking stink, big man. Smell like a damned dog." His mouth curled up slightly at the corners. "Get down on all fours like the animal you are." Dieter held out one of the cursed control pads in his right hand.
I could see L.T.'s jaw muscles clench and his nostrils flared, but he glanced down at the control and sank to his knees, then leaned forward his hands splayed in the dirt, his triceps bulging, and his shoulder and back muscles rippling under their sheen of sweat. I, too, knelt beside him to keep from pulling on the cuffs that joined us together. I looked up to see everyone, guards and captives alike, watching. I felt outrage at L.T.'s humiliation, but powerless to end it. Dieter grabbed L.T.'s hair and pulled his face up, grinding it into his crotch. Then, Dieter addressed the italian that had been kneeling as we approached. "This maggot has my dildo," he tilted his head in L.T.'s direction. "Fetch!"
The man crawled on his knees to L.T.'s ass, placing his left hand on the lieutenant's butt. As he reached with his right hand to remove the fake dick, Dieter abruptly slapped the side of his head. "Not with your hands, ya fuckin' slime ball." The hirsute italian's dark eyes flashed briefly in anger before turning back to L.T.'s butt. Taking a deep breath, he pressed his face to the lieutenant's ass and grasped the end of the dildo in his teeth.
I was finding it difficult to keep Old Snake under control with the picture of this guy's face jammed into L.T.'s cheeks. And, upon briefly looking around, I noted that I wasn't the only one that found the little tableau arousing, as cylindrical bulges appeared in the black trousers of the guards, and a few of the naked captive's cocks likewise extended in full view.
Slowly, the dark Italian drew his head back, pulling the fake cock from L.T.'s asshole. A short, quiet grunt escaped L.T.'s throat as his ass was finally freed of its intruder. Dieter reached down and took the dildo from the man's mouth and passed it off to one of the guards standing nearby who had been groping his crotch. "Here," Dieter sneered as the lackey took the plastic prick, "hold onto this instead of that pathetic excuse for a cock that you've got." The guard's face reddened at the insult, which, judging from the size of the protuberance in his pants, was completely unwarranted.
Dieter turned back to the kneeling Italian. "Now then," he began, nodding to L.T.'s asshole, "make sure there's nothing else left up there." With resigned understanding, the man again pressed is face between L.T.'s ass cheeks, and sticking out his tongue, licked at the twitching sphincter muscle before slipping it into the lieutenant's chute.
L.T. gasped at the intrusion of the warm, moist tongue into his asshole, and I felt his horse cock brush lightly against my wrist as it responded naturally to the rear assault. He closed his eyes and thrust out his jaw as the Italian’s tongue continued its probing. His USMC meat distended further, becoming a rigid staff that throbbed and pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. Swallowing hard, my mouth gone suddenly dry, I fought against my baser instinct of taking it in my fist and milking the fucker for all it was worth.
I bit the inside of my cheek and looked around at the gathered men. All attention was focused on L.T. and the beefy Italian whose face was planted between his asscheeks. I noted that the black uniforms were soaked with sweat, a sweat that I was sure came from more than just the tropical heat. The guards were groping at their own or their buddy's bulging crotches, while the naked prisoners stood helplessly exposed, the metal cockrings exaggerating their erections.
The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, and I closed my eyes, trying to separate myself from the degrading scene. I felt a hand grabbing my hair, pulling my head back and I looked up to see Dieter's sneering face. "Whassamatter, gruntdick? Jealous?" With his other hand Dieter pushed the Italian’s spit-smeared face from L.T.'s furry butt. "There it is, fucker. It's all yours now." He raised his eyebrows, a mock expectant expression on his brutish face. "Ain't that a Corps motto: 'never leave your buddy's behind'?" Deep, rumbling laughter boiled up from his barrel chest as he enjoyed his own pathetic parody of the phrase.
Suddenly, I heard a furious voice bellowing, "You fucking goddamned sonuvabitch!" It was L.T. who, without warning, launched himself at the hulking Dieter, a ham like fist striking the side of the tormentor's head, knocking him to the ground. The handcuff around his nuts pulled in what must have been excruciating pain, before I realized what was happening and managed to give some slack. By then L.T. was standing over the dazed Dieter, his eyes blazing and nostrils flared. He was a magnificent sight, his sweat slickened, hairy chest heaving, his corded muscles tightened in fight response, and his massive cock still ramrod stiff from the blood trapped within by the constricting cuff.
One of the uniforms must have pulled out his controller, because the next thing I knew, fire exploded in my groin, sending me to my knees. Instinctively, my hands flew protectively to my crotch with such force that the handcuffs pulling on L.T.'s balls yanked him down to join me in the dirt. The excruciating pain from the fucking cockring ceased and I slumped forward but was stopped before my face hit the ground. I shook my head in an attempt to rid it of the mind-numbing electrical effects. As my brain cleared, I realized why I hadn't fallen on my face. L.T. was holding me in his massive arms, one arm around my shoulders, the other hand holding my head to his furry chest, my body leaning supportively against his. "You pathetic yellow pussies," he was saying as I reluctantly pulled myself from his solid frame. "Pretty goddamned tough with your little toys, aren't you?" His voice was low, rumbling and full of venom.
I turned to see Dieter standing over us, running a hand over the bruise where he had been struck. "Well now, big man," the corners of his mouth turned up in a malicious grin. "You're gonna pay for that one." Looking at his group of henchmen, he nodded his head in our direction. The lieutenant and I were both grabbed by several of the black clad goons, the handcuffs stretching L.T.'s cock and balls painfully from his groin as I my arms were pulled behind my back.
Dieter stood in front of Lieutenant Brown looking down at his bulging nutsack under the semi turgid cockmeat. He brought his gaze up to stare into L.T.'s eyes. A wicked smile curled at the corners of his mouth just before thrusting his knee up between the splayed legs of the helpless lieutenant.
L.T. howled in pain, and slumped in the grip of the guards. Dieter took the mashed balls in his fist as he unlocked the handcuffs, a sneer spreading across his face. "You don't look like such a big man now, cocksucker." Dieter's brows knit together as he slowly nodded his head, an idea obviously forming in his perverse mind. "Yeah. I think that's it. Cock sucker."
I looked from the lieutenant to Dieter, wondering just what the fucker had come up with this time. I didn't have to wait long.
Dieter stepped over to me and took Old Snake in a callused hand, giving it a few quick strokes. "It would seem," Dieter began as Snake grew in his fist, "that your comrades have become somewhat aroused." He looked over at the line of men standing at attention, most of them sporting semi hard or full blown erections partly due to the constricting bands around their genitals. "Being a good officer," Dieter continued, “I'm sure you want to see your men taken care of, isn't that right?"
Lieutenant Brown clenched his jaws and remained silent, staring with hatred at the hulking sadist. Dieter suddenly reached out and backhanded L.T.'s face, snapping his head to the side. "I SAID 'isn't that right?'"
L.T.'s lips trembled in rage, his eyes narrowed. "Whatever the hell you say, you mutherfucking sonuvabitch."
Dieter smiled broadly. "Good. I'm glad you feel that way." He ran his finger over Old Snake's piss slit, smearing the precum that was oozing there. "Because what you're going to do is suck 'em all off."
Lieutenant Brown glowered at the smirking gorilla, his sweat matted, fur covered chest rising and falling with each deep breath. Dieter yanked me by the cock to a position directly in front of my commanding officer; then, placing a hand firmly on L.T.'s shoulder, pushed him to his knees before me.
"Now I would advise," Dieter addressed me, feigning helpfulness, "that you just relax and enjoy this." Moving his hand from L.T.'s shoulder to the back of his head he firmly shoved it forward. "The more you hold back, the harder the big man here has to work." He gripped Old Snake in one fist, smearing the oozing precum over my C.O.'s lips as he continued forcing his head toward my groin. "So don't take too long. There's a lot of others waiting their turn behind you."
I could hear the guffaws and catcalls coming from the surrounding guards through the drumming heartbeat in my ears. "Lieutenant, I'm sorry. I ...,"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" With lightning speed, Dieter's hand went from my dick to my balls and twisted as he pulled the nutsack from my crotch. "You don't need to talk. Just shoot your fucking wad down his throat so we can move on."
I winced in pain as my balls crushed in the hamlike fist, but Old Snake was obliviously seeping precum in expectation of sliding past L.T.'s lips. I was humiliated at the loss of control, but felt a surge of lust as the lieutenant's mouth engulfed my throbbing shaft. He began a rhythmic back and forth movement as he sucked, his tongue flicking at the sensitive area just at the base of the cockhead. Maybe a man just naturally knows what a man really likes, but even though it barely registered on a conscious level, it seems that my boss was one helluva cocksucker.
The moist warmth of his mouth, combined with the steady sucking, drew more and more blood into my expanding dick with each heartbeat. The hooting laughter from the assembled goons was drowned out by the pounding in my ears as my breath came faster in short, deep gasps. A deep grunt escaped my chest, and my nuts crawled high in their hairy sack as the flood gates opened and they blasted their hot load into my C.O.'s mouth.
Dieter wasted no time in grabbing L.T.'s hair and pulling his head back, Old Snake withdrawing from his mouth with a wet popping sound. I briefly saw a trail of grayish white cum dripping from his mouth to mingle with the dark fur on his chest, before hanging my head in shame and humiliation as the sound of cheering and applause from the black uniformed henchmen filled my burning ears.
"You!" Dieter was pointing to the tattooed italian who had pulled the dildo from L.T.'s asshole, still on all fours. "Yer next. Get the fuck up. Parade rest."
The man pulled himself to a standing position, feet spread and hands crossed behind his back. His short, fat dick lay flaccid over his large round balls, made more prominent by the bright chrome control ring.
Dieter nodded his head in the man's direction, smacking the lieutenant on the back of the head. "Well, c'mon, big man. We ain't got all day and you've just barely begun."
L.T. shot a look of pure hatred at the taunting ringleader but remained silent. Realizing that resistance at this point would be futile, he wiped my cum from his chin with the back of his hand and crawled in front of the dark haired Italian. Even in such a degrading situation, he maintained his honor and decorum. They could force him to perform, but they couldn't take those from him. Fuck, I was proud to be serving under him.
The Italian fixed his gaze blankly ahead as L.T. took the man's bulbous dickhead into his mouth. I watched his eyes narrow as his cock hardened, responding to the lieutenant's manipulations. His nostrils flared, sucking in more air, and sweat coursed its way through the forest of chest fur, down his rippled abs and into his crotch hair to mingle with L.T.'s spit. Within minutes, his head tilted back, his eyes squeezed shut. Then the lieutenant began to make quiet, choking sounds as he swallowed the load firing into his throat.
The uniformed crowd was eating this up, hooting and hollering as they groped at the bulges in their pants, shouting mock encouragement to Lieutenant Brown as he crawled to the next man, the hard dicked red head. I thought Old Snake was difficult to control, but this guy seemed to sport a constant hard on and I was beginning to wonder just how much of that was due to the constricting effects of the cockring. Whatever the cause, he blew his nuts almost as soon as L.T.'s lips wrapped around his rod. I took that as a small blessing, knowing that it would shorten the course of my C.O.'s degradation.
Next up was Ski, who watched L.T. with a rueful look in his dark brown eyes. He looked over at me like a trapped animal with nowhere to run, then back at L.T. kneeling in front of him. His lips moved as he whispered something to the lieutenant that I couldn't hear through the catcalls and raucous laughter around me. I saw his face screw up in a painful expression as his dick disappeared into L.T.'s mouth.
I closed my eyes, not able to bear anymore, trying to mentally escape and block out the reality of our situation. I kept them shut throughout the remainder of L.T.'s ordeal; yet I was able to track when each man finished by the burst of whooping cheers and applause from the guards.
After what seemed to be an eternity, it was apparently over. "Good job, big man." Dieter's voice was callously mocking, and I opened my eyes to see him pulling L.T. to his feet, semen mixed with saliva dripping from the lieutenant's square chin. "In fact, you did so well, you got my men all fired up." This brought a burst of crude comments from the group still grabbing and rubbing at their bulging crotches. "Maybe you'd like to suck their cocks, too. Whattaya say?" A rooting cheer exploded from the guards as L.T. wiped the slime from his face, staring at the malicious, sneering adversary.
"NO!" I found myself shouting and lashing out at the two preoccupied guards beside me. Immediately several others pounced on me, seizing my thrashing arms and legs.
"Enough!" The voice was sharp and commanding. I looked up to see Peck coming from the main house. "Just what the hell is all the commotion out here, Dieter?"
"Just taking a little break, Mr. Peck."
"Well, you damage any of my merchandise, and I'll be the one doing some breaking." Peck smiled as he continued in my direction. "You," he said pointing a finger at me. "Come with me."
The clutching hands released me and I stood, glancing over briefly at my naked comrades, most of whom had their heads hung in shame, then at L.T. who looked at me with questioning concern before I resignedly turned and followed Peck back toward the farmhouse.
Peck led me inside to what was apparently his office, a well-appointed room with dark walnut furniture and black leather chairs. He gestured to one of the chairs as I entered. "Sit down. Make yourself comfortable."
I sat in one of the large, padded chairs, the leather squeaking as I sank into its depths, but I sure as hell was anything but comfortable. The chair was cool against my naked skin, and I settled in the seat, my body sliding easily due to the lubrication of nervous sweat. Peck's unnatural civility was giving me the creeps. He wanted something, and I was sure I wasn't going to like it when I found out what it was.
"What's this all about?" I asked, feeling somewhat vulnerable, and more than a little out of place, sitting in this fucking fancy office wearing only the wicked, gleaming metal cockring.
Peck didn't answer but went to a bar recessed into one wall of the room. Taking two glasses, he poured several fingers of booze into each from a crystal decanter. Bringing them over, he held one out to me. "I thought you could use a drink." He smiled. Not a sneer or a smirk. It was an actual smile, and I noticed that he was a very handsome man. "Go on, take it." He saw my reluctance and his smile broadened, brightening his face even more. "I assure you, it's safe. Mine was poured from the same flask." As if to prove his point, he took a sip, then raised his eyebrows and again offered me the glass. I took it with a steady hand, although my intuition was frantically sounding the alarm.
Peck nodded his head in approval, then turned and stood with his back to me, studying one of the pictures that I suddenly noticed lining the walls. I looked around at them briefly. All were of naked, beefy men in various poses and environments.
"You know," Peck began, his back still toward me, "I understand a lot more than you may think I do." He sipped the scotch whiskey from his glass, still intent on the picture in front of him. "You see, I was once a grunt like yourself." He sipped again, then turned to face me. "That was quite a few years ago. But I always had this ... uh ... penchant for men." He grinned again, his blue gray eyes twinkling. "Truth be told, that's probably why I enlisted in the first place." He took another sip and sat on the edge of the large desk. "Things began to change when I let my natural instincts take control."
I looked at the glass in my hand and hesitantly took a sip. I shifted in the chair again, the sweat rolling down the hollow of my back, still not able to see where this was headed. I watched Peck warily, waiting for the fucking shoe to drop. He was a fine-looking man, no doubt about it. I thought it was a damned shame his head was so screwed up.
Peck hesitated for a moment and then continued on. "I was on guard duty one night with another grunt. A damned good looking farm boy, built like the proverbial brick shit house. Well, this particular night, my youthful testosterone had reached critical overload." He took a deep breath, looking at the ceiling, the corners of his mouth curled into a slight grin.
"I had decided that this hick was going to help me blow off some steam, so to speak. As our rounds brought us together, I unslung my rifle and pointed it directly between his surprised, wide eyes. I forced him to strip off his fatigues and then his underwear, leaving him standing naked in front of me, shivering in the cold night air." Peck looked at me, the smile gone from his face. "I had mastery over him, you see. I liked it. It felt damned good to have control over another human being. I made him kneel at my feet, then held my Ka-bar to his throat while he sucked me off."
Peck shrugged his shoulders, stood up and went to another of the pictures on the wall. "Well, that pretty much ended my alliance with the Corps. The little bastard turned me in and I was dishonorably discharged. But it was worth it. I tasted the power and there was no going back. I had experienced the thrill of domination, and I wanted more." He reached out his hand and placed it on the glass covering the picture.
"So, then I joined a mercenary force. Very small. Very elite. The pay was good, but the fringe benefits were the drawing point. That's where I met your friend, Dieter." He grinned, his white teeth gleaming. "We had similar philosophies, he and I. It became a game for us. We would capture the enemy soldiers and, uh, 'play' with them before killing them."
I must have registered shock at the casual statement, because Peck's brows knit together. "Oh, come on. They had to die. You're a warrior, you must understand that."
"No," I said, my voice raspy, "I don't kill for the mere pleasure of it." My stomach started knotting up. This man truly was psychotic.
"Well," Peck shook his head, "it doesn't matter. I DID enjoy the killing. The ultimate control, you see. But only as a culmination of the domination." He laughed, deep and resonant. "Oh, the things we did to those soldiers!" He turned to face me, one hand holding the glass of whiskey, the other resting behind his back, a broad grin spanning his face. Then he shook his head, "But, the organizational structure was too confining for my wants and needs. That's when I went into business for myself."
He sipped from the glass, then with a questioning look asked, "Did you know that there is a lot of money to be made from contract work? A lot of people out there need other people, um, taken care of. Finally, as an assassin, I found my niche. The power, the domination, the control. And the money, of course." He moved the hand from behind his back and swept it in a broad arc. "That's what led me to all of this."
"I was taking contract hits. One at a time. And if I took a liking to the mark, I'd play with him. I considered it a little bonus. He was going to die anyway, what the hell. Some of them would beg to die." The smile was back on his face, but this time I couldn't see any warmth. "I liked that," he continued. "Big, tough, macho men kneeling before me, usually naked by that time, quaking and pleading with me. They were mine and they knew it."
I realized that I was in deep shit now. Here I was sitting without a stitch on, listening to this lunatic ramble about his career moves, while we sipped fine scotch whiskey from crystal glasses. Just what the fuck was wrong with this picture, I asked myself. The tingling of dread grew stronger at the back of my neck. I thought about my men and L.T. and the others. All this time I thought Dieter was the madman, that maybe I could get Peck to listen to reason. Damn, was I mistaken.
Peck walked over to the bar and poured more whiskey into his glass then held the decanter out to me with a questioning look. I shook my head and he set it back on the bar, replacing the stopper before continuing on.
"One of the hits I was contracted for was a powerful drug kingpin with even more powerful enemies. Money meant nothing to either party. During the course of my usual preliminary surveillance, I discovered that the man's ranch, while covering many acres, was also extremely isolated. In addition, I found him to be a hell of a stud." Peck's gray eyes glinted and his face brightened with a hint of a smile. "I told the clients that the job would be done at my discretion, in a manner of my choosing, and that the only payment I required would be the deed to the property."
He moved over and sat in the chair facing me. "As I said, his enemies were powerful people. The deal was set."
Sitting in the black leather chair, Peck maintained his usual perfect posture. Although relaxed, he was definitely in control of the situation. He spoke casually, as if we were discussing the latest football scores.
"In the end, it was the love of solitude that was the man's greatest undoing. There were no neighbors, and his social contacts were few and far between. When the day came for me to make my move, I found him working in the barn, stripped to the waist, his torso glistening with sweat. He had the kind of body that comes from a lot of care. Tanned, muscular and well defined. A tattoo of a coiled cobra writhed on his left upper arm as he moved. He was dressed in cowboy boots and old denims which were faded white over the bulge in his crotch. I watched him for a few minutes without him realizing I was even there. I don't mind telling you, watching him greatly aroused me."
The alcohol burned in my stomach, and my heart was thudding double time. Peck sipped casually at his drink, and I wondered how a mind could become so twisted. And just what did that fucked up brain of his have in store for me? For us? I could feel the rivers of sweat running between my naked shoulder blades and down the hollow at the small of my back, forming a small puddle on the fine leather upholstery.
Peck stared at me and I did my best to hide my emotions. I didn't want him to have any more ammunition than he already had. I stared back.
The corners of his mouth lifted in amusement, as if he were reading my mind. Then, taking another sip from his glass, he continued on.
"I stepped out of my concealment and called his name. He turned to face me, obviously annoyed that someone had been so bold as to enter his property uninvited." Peck grinned, his white teeth gleaming. "His annoyance quickly turned to surprise and fear when he saw the barrel of the glock pointed at his burly, sweat streaked chest. He raised his calloused hands high over his head, exposing the dark wetness of his armpits. His adam's apple jumped in his throat as he swallowed. I think he knew right off what was going down. He offered me money, pleaded with me not to kill him. But I already had plans for this land." Peck paused, then shrugged his broad shoulders. "And a deal's a deal."
Drawing a deep breath, he slowly exhaled. "I told him to strip, and, after a little hesitation, he bent down to remove first one boot and then the other. Standing back up, his hands shook slightly as they undid the buttons on his jeans, and it became evident that he was wearing no underwear. He pushed them down and kicked them off, standing naked and apprehensive before me. His uncut cock extended from a damp mat of pubic hair. It wasn't as big as your lieutenant's," Peck chortled, a sharp, unexpected sound, "but, then...who's is?" He laughed heartily, sending chills through my body. "Nonetheless, it was impressive. Thick and heavily veined, hanging over egg sized balls which fear had caused to retract upward, pressing close to his body." Raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips, Peck nodded his head. "He, indeed, was a fine looking man."
"I had him stand with his back to a support post in the middle of the barn. I made my way behind him, with the glock steadily pointed at his head. Picking up a length of baling twine from the floorboards as I went, I pulled his arms around the post and secured him, his back jammed painfully against the sharp edges of the post. Perspiration poured from his forehead and ran into his eyes; it trickled from his hairy armpits and matted the thick fur on his chest." Peck grinned, a cold and humorless expression, his eyes like icy stones glinting with sadistic pleasure. He obviously enjoyed telling the tale almost as much as the actual experience. He savored the repulsion I was trying to suppress.
"The sweat was evidence of my power, you see. He recognized my total control over his being. Coming around in front of him, I stared deep into his eyes as he continuously blinked the sweat out of them. I placed the muzzle of the glock under his chin and he flinched, his adam's apple bobbing in his thickly muscled throat. The smell of fear exuded from his pores, heavy and intoxicating. I sucked it in. Then, bringing the cold steel down his neck through the hairy valley at the center of his chest, I continued to slide it slowly over his rippled abdomen, into his thick nest of pubic hair and brought it to rest under the base of his dick, at the top of his ballsack." Peck's grin widened, although it assumed no added measure of warmth. "I brought my face to his, nose to nose, his panic a palpable thing as he stared back through blinking eyes. 'BANG,' I suddenly shouted, and he screamed, pressing his back more painfully against the square post to which he was bound."
Peck laughed, deep and resonant as he stood and refilled his glass from the decanter, shaking his head. "I'm not sure how long it took him to realize that his nuts were still intact. Or how long it took him to exhale, for that matter. His eyes were squeezed shut and I could hear his heart thudding rapidly within his rib cage."
"He opened his eyes as I removed the glock from his manhood and replaced it in the holster. I pinched his nipples between my fingers and twisted, eliciting another shout and another series of offers, bargains, and pleading. The feel of his dense chest hair was surprisingly soft against my palms as I ran them lightly over his solid, muscular torso. Then I watched his expression change from anxious pleasure to grimacing pain as I took his heavy balls in my hand and slowly closed my fist." Peck clenched his free hand in illustration, and I could feel my own nuts crawling up under old Snake for protection.
"You know," Peck looked at me with amusement in his steely eyes, "I think the story about Achilles was all wrong. A man's weakest point isn't his heels. It's his cock and balls. Torture any other part of his body and he can endure. But strip him naked and he's vulnerable. Grab his manhood and he's yours." He nodded his head to the chrome ring at my exposed groin. "That philosophy is what led to the development of those controllers." My hand unconsciously moved to cover my unprotected crotch. Peck noticed this gesture and grinned before turning his back to me and continuing his narrative.
"I released the grip on his scrotum and walked over to a tractor stored in one corner of the barn. His eyes were fixed on me as I went about detaching its battery. I hefted it from the tractor and carried it over to set it down between his feet. Then, going to a worktable along the wall, I found a pair of jumper cables, and watched his eyes grow wide in panic as understanding came upon him."
Peck half turned to face me. "You know, the most powerful component of inflicting torment is not the pain itself, but what the mind perceives. Done properly, the psychological expectation can be far more intense than the actual physical application."
He turned away again, his head tilted back slightly, and continued. "So it was with my handsome rancher kingpin. He began kicking and twisting, all the while alternatively cursing and pleading. I had to tie his ankles to the post to keep his feet where they belonged. Then I began to have some fun."
Peck returned to the chair in front of me but remained standing, his icy eyes staring at me, watching for my reaction. "I attached the cables to the terminals of the battery and one of the other clips to his ballsack. He didn't like that at all. He screamed as the cold metal bit into the tender skin. Then I took the free clip and brought it to his left tit. The sweat soaking his chest fur acted as a conductor, and his body spasmed as the spark closed the narrow space from the metal to his skin. I repeated the procedure on various parts of his body, each time eliciting a howl as every muscle contracted. Blood dripped from his scrotum as his thrashing caused the sharp teeth to bite deeper into the skin. The game went on for quite a while, and I was afraid the battery would discharge before I was through. My favorite target, of course, was his shrouded cockhead. One of the first shocks had caused him to piss, and I had to jump out of the way to avoid the flow. From then on, the moisture under his foreskin only helped to intensify the pain. Eventually, long after his voice had given out from the screams, he lost consciousness."
Sitting again in the chair, Peck sipped from his glass as he continued to stare at me. I tried to show no reaction to his sordid, sadistic story, but I'm not sure I was very effective. It wasn't just the facts he was relaying, but the cold-blooded way in which he told them. I was frozen in place, my mind racing with unanswered questions, my stomach turning at the inhuman enjoyment he derived from his tortures. I broke his stare and glanced over at the pictures of the naked men lining the walls of the office, trying to maintain control. When I looked back, I found him eyeing old Snake, and my guts twisted in apprehension. It was impossible to tell what ideas he had for Snake and me developing inside his head. He brought his gaze up from my groin, and those damned steel colored eyes of his bored into my skull. Again, I was struck by what a handsome man he was. He smiled, his eyes narrowing and his teeth gleaming in his squared face, and then continued on.
"I wanted a shot at his asshole before completing the contract. To prove, if there was still any doubt, that he was indeed mine to do with as I chose. So, after removing the jumper cables from his balls, I untied his feet and wrists which had become bloodied from his straining against the twine. Then, using a thicker, sturdier rope that I had found on the worktable, I secured him spread eagle between two of the support posts. His head lolled forward on his chest, the hairy nests of his armpits lay exposed and inviting. I reached between his legs to heft his balls, now dangling low in his unconscious state, and stuck my nose into his left pit. He had a man's smell. The odor of sweat brought on by work as well as a tinge of fear."
"I wanted him awake and aware while I fucked his ass, knowing that I was his master. Grabbing his hair, I pulled his head up and slapped at his cheeks, but he was truly out. But that was alright. I could wait. And, while I did, I figured I might as well get a bite to eat. I left the barn and walked here to the farmhouse. On the way I found something that would make what I had planned for my mark a little more interesting. Fire ants had built a large mound several feet from the path. They're everywhere around here, and their bites are quite painful. They like being disturbed even less than my drug dealing rancher friend."
Peck's grin widened as he watched me shift uncomfortably in the leather chair.
"After having a leisurely lunch," he went on, "I removed the loaf of bread from the clear plastic bag it was in, and took the bag with me on the way back to the barn. I stopped at the ant hill and, holding the open end of the bag with one hand, scooped a good portion of the mound and its inhabitants into it with my Ka-bar. Twisting the top closed, I watched the angry insects crawling up the sides of the plastic, yearning to sink their sharp pincers into human flesh."
"By the time I returned to the barn, the rancher was awake; and, upon seeing me, he continued his pleading and offers for a deal. He was persuasive, and, despite the red welts covering his body from where I had used the jumper cables, I found him to be quite appealing. But I had a contract and a reputation for getting the job done. I stepped up to him and took his firm jaw in my hand, looking into his eyes. I could feel a fine tremor of panic. I ran my palm down his neck and chest, then took his uncut cock into my fist. I could feel his heart beat in the thick meat. Slipping my thumb under the foreskin, he twitched as I ran it over his sensitive glans and he hardened in my grip. The head of his prick poked slightly from its shroud and seeped clear, slippery precum. In spite of his fear, he was erect and throbbing. It was at that point that I opened the plastic bag and slipped it over his cock and balls, tying it tightly in place with the discarded twine. The constriction of the twine prevented the ants from escaping, as well as trapping the blood in his sizeable hard on. A questioning look covered his face as I went to the worktable and brought back a can of motor lubricant and unbuckled my belt and opened the fly. Understanding dawned on him when I hauled out my own prick and smeared the dark, thick grease over its length. He begged me not to fuck him, but I had to show him that his desires meant nothing. Moving behind his splayed legs, I nudged the head of my dick at his asshole, then rammed it in. He was tight, and I took pleasure in the fact that I was the first, and the last, to violate him. He yelled as my cock was shoved completely up his chute, the warmth of his body engulfing my meat. Then, I reached around in front and shook the plastic bag, provoking the ants and causing them to swarm. His screams rose in pitch as they began to bite at his trapped cock and balls. And as they did, his ass would spasm on my dick, gripping it tight in its warm embrace. As I fucked him, the bag swung wildly from his dangling genitals, further enraging the ants. His shrieks became hoarse gasps as he went nearly mad from the repeated fiery bites of my tiny accomplices. And all the while, my cock enjoyed the clutching spasms of his ass as I pistoned in and out. I ran my hand over the snake tattoo on his arm; then, sliding both hands over his muscular body, I savored the feel of the flesh that belonged to me. Ultimately, I fired my cum into his bowels with such force that my knees weakened and I held to his strung up body for support. It was a spectacular climax, and I kept my softening cock buried in the heat of his twitching, clenching asshole for several minutes while I caught my breath."
I again shifted in the leather chair and tried to swallow, my mouth gone dry. I tried to imagine the fear and agony that the drug lord had experienced. And I saw the prominent, cylindrical bulge extending down the right leg of Peck's trousers. He noticed my attention and ran his hand over the protrusion, the grin back on his face.
"After I pulled my prick from his ass, I wiped it off with his jeans which were lying nearby. Then, returning my cock to my trousers, I zipped up the fly and buckled the belt, adjusting my clothes as I moved around in front of him. His eyes were wild, and in a croaking voice he asked me to kill him." Peck's eyes sparked with cold fire. "There it was. He recognized me as his god. I was the one who had the power of his life and death in my hands. That's what I was waiting for."
Abruptly, Peck stood from the chair, walked to the bar. He drained the scotch from his glass and set it beside the decanter, and with his back still to me, continued. "In one fluid movement, I pulled his head back and brought the blade of my Ka-bar across his bull like neck."
Peck turned to face me, an unreadable expression on his face. "There was a momentary grunt - more of a gurgle, actually - and he slumped in the ropes. After cutting down the body, I used the Ka-bar once more to remove the cobra tattoo which I sent to my clients as proof of the completed contract. The remains… well, there are wild things out there in the jungle. They assisted in erasing one more drug runner from the face of the earth."
My guts twisted into knots as the alcohol burned in the pit of my stomach. I vainly tried to put on a passive front, but the gleam in Peck's eyes and the slight twitch of a smile at the corners of his mouth told me he knew what I was thinking. His stare was cold, calculating and . . . well, goddammit, fuckin' HOT.
Maybe it was the alcohol. Normally I can hold my liquor as well as any Marine, but the fact that I hadn't eaten in almost twenty-four hours, combined with the morning of work in the hot sun, weakened my tolerance. Shit, that HAD to be it. Why else would I be sitting here, close to being turned on by a sadistic pervert who took pleasure in dominance and murder? With a brain so fucking screwed up, it was beyond salvation. But, damn, he got Old Snake to stirring.
Peck acknowledged my arousal with a wide grin. Hell, it wasn't like I was able to conceal anything. And fucking Snake had a mind of his own. I could blame it on the alcohol, or even on the damned cockring. Didn't matter. I could feel my dick growing over the smooth, soft leather seat.
Peck brought his glance from my crotch to look me in the eye, his gaze searching my soul, a look of bemusement on his face. I fought to maintain the stare as he crossed his sinewy arms and continued.
"Well, it occurred to me that if I enjoyed using men, surely there were others that would pay for the privilege of having a man for themselves." His eyes glinted. "Or several. To do with whatever they pleased without the sticky confines of the law to hold them back."
He turned his back to me and walked to the desk as he spoke. "Surely you can see the attraction there. You must have, at some point, considered what it would be like. Owning a man." He sat on the corner of the desk, again facing me, his eyes boring into mine. "Someone like your lieutenant, perhaps?"
The remark caught me off guard. "I don't fucking know what you're talking about, you sorry-assed son of a bitch!"
Peck's grin spread across his square jawed face, his gray eyes crinkled in amusement. "Oh, I think you do," he said softly, his head nodding to the erection at my groin. Fuckin' Snake!
Peck leaned back, his weight supported on his outstretched arms behind him, with legs spread wide, an obvious cylindrical bulge extending down his thigh. "I know you better than you know yourself. I've had my eye on you. I think there's something more between you and your horse-hung C.O. than you want to admit. More than an enlisted-officer relationship." The bulge at Peck's splayed legs seemed to grow. "Can't say as I blame you there. He's a hot one, he is. And, honestly now, you got off on fucking his ass and feeling his lips around your cock, didn't you?"
"NO!", I shouted, my hands gripping the armrest of the leather chair, my heart thudding in my chest.
Peck grinned as he stood and moved to the right behind my chair. "Liar."
I sat frozen, my fingers digging into the leather of the armrests. The thudding sound of my heartbeat was deafening. I felt Peck's hand on my left shoulder as he nonchalantly leaned over my right and slid his other hand down my abs, through the sweat dampened pubes and circled around the rapidly stiffening Snake. His grip was warm, firm; and old Snake was just eating this up, standing full and proud.
Peck brought his lips to my ear as he slowly began to piston his fist on my shaft. He whispered softly, his breath tickling the small hairs at opening of my ear canal. "I know what you want. I can smell the man-lust. I could sense it in you from the beginning."
Snake was rock hard, seeping precum as the stroking continued. I gritted my teeth and stared forward, but there was no denying a fucking stiff dick.
Peck moved his left hand from my shoulder to the back of my neck, massaging the spasming muscles there in rhythm with the pumping of my meat. "How many times have you fantasized about taking your Lieutenant? Having him stripped naked, subservient before you? How many times have you dreamed about shoving this" -- he gripped Snake more firmly in his fist for emphasis -- "up his tight, round ass?"
The sensations of Peck's hands on my body, the feel of his breath in my ear, all combined to confuse my resolve. All focus was centering on Snake, and I could feel my balls churning.
Peck ran his thumb through my seeping precum and rubbed it over the head of my dick, causing Snake to twitch. A groan escaped from my throat and I shook my head in futile denial.
"I can give you your fantasies," Peck whispered, the smell of the Scotch on his breath was arousing in itself. "Or," he began, his fist sliding to the base of my cock to hold the chromed ring between his thumb and index finger, "I can bring your nightmares to life."
I twisted my head slightly in an attempt to escape the erotic effects of his breath. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Just what the fuck is it you want from me, anyhow?"
Peck came around in front of me, grinning, his eyes sparkling in amusement. "Consider it a job offer." He crossed his arms across his chest as his smile broadened. "I see a lot of me in you. And, although you won't admit it to yourself, we're a lot alike you and I." He jutted his chin in the direction of Old Snake. "And your dick confirms my suspicions."
I glanced down at my prick, reddened and still throbbing on the leather seat, a small puddle of precum under the head. The evidence was indisputable. I garnered all the cockiness I could muster and stared straight into Peck's eyes. "So . . .?"
Peck pursed his lips briefly, then the smile brightened his handsome face again. He turned and sat once more on the corner of the large desk. "As I speculated, it turns out there is a great demand for . . . well, my merchandise." He cleared his throat, chuckling quietly. "Business is very good. Almost too good." Nodding his head at me, he continued. "That's where you come in. It takes a certain type of man to do this job. A certain mind set, if you will. I could use a man like you. You've already experienced some of the, uh, fringe benefits of working for me." An evil, seductive grin spread across his face. "Do the job well, and you have your pick of the lot. You can't say having a man like your lieutenant at your disposal every night doesn't appeal to you. I know it does." He glanced down again at my crotch and laughed.
I didn't have to look to know Old Snake was hard as steel and throbbing in time with the thundering of my heartbeat. I took a deep breath and exhaled. "Shit."
"I need a man with a strong sense of loyalty," Peck said, his smile fading. "I know you have that. I've seen it. Although at the moment it's just a bit misdirected." He stood and came over to again grasp my pulsating prick in his fist, sliding his thumb through the clear slime at the tip. "I believe in rewarding a job well done. But I demand compliance with my directives without hesitation. Everyone working for me now will attest to this."
Peck saw the question in my face before I could speak it. "Yes," he nodded, "even Dieter."
I snorted at the thought of the man-mountain being subservient to any one. He was in it for the fun of control. Yeah, he and Peck were quite a pair.
Peck raised his eyebrows at the sound. "You don't believe me?" The evil grin was back on his face. "I'll prove it to you."
Relinquishing the grip on my dick, he went to the desk and took out a walkie-talkie. Holding it to his mouth he pressed the transmit button. "Dieter, could you come to the office? I require your services." He released the button, and a few seconds later the static was broken by Dieter's voice, still deep through the tinny sounding speaker. "Yes, sir, Mr. Peck. I'll be right there."
Returning the radio to the desk, Peck turned his attention back to me, a smirk twitching the corners of his mouth. "I don't ask for much. Do the job, do it well, and do it unhesitatingly, and my men will attest that the benefits are well worth the effort. Otherwise, why would they stay?" He returned to his position on the corner of the desk. "I want you to be one of my men. You've got the qualifications I'm looking for. Attitude, Sergeant . . . attitude is most important. The gut lust for men is something you have to be born with. As you were."
My head was spinning, confused. A lot of what Peck said was true, I couldn't lie to myself. And even if I could, Old Snake was there to prove me wrong. "I . . ."
My sentence was cut off as the door to the office was flung open, and Dieter's muscular bulk filled the entry. He looked from me to Peck sitting on the desk, then back to me, a questioning look in his eyes under the heavy brows.
"Ah, Dieter," Peck began. "I'm having a bit of trouble here. It seems our friend the sergeant feels that I am less than truthful."
Dieter crossed to my chair in four quick strides, grabbed the short hair on my head and pulled. "Maybe I can convince him, Mr. Peck." A sneer broke his dark features. "This little shit's been nothing but trouble. It would be a pleasure."
I was pulled half out of the seat, the bare skin of my back sliding over the sweat slickened leather before Peck broke in. "Let him go, Dieter. Pleasure is exactly one of the things we were discussing."
Freed from Dieter's grip, I slid back down into the chair, gritting my teeth in anger.
Dieter stood with his hands on his hips. "Mr. Peck, I don't underst . . ."
"Dieter, we were discussing the terms of employment. Benefits and expectations. You enjoy working for me, don't you?"
Dieter's face lit up. "Yessir. You know I do."
"And you feel that the perks far outweigh any minor inconveniences?"
The sneer was back on Dieter's face as he turned to face me and answered, "Yessir, I sure do."
"Well, now, that's what I was trying to explain to our friend here. But he seems to have difficulty in believing."
The sneer grew on Dieter's face. He obviously enjoyed his work.
"Dieter, I want you to suck his cock."
I glanced from Peck to Dieter and the sneer evaporated like summer rain, replaced by a look of incredulity. "Sir . . . ?"
"You heard right," Peck said quietly. "suck him off."
Dieter looked at me, his dark eyes blazing, his upper lip spasming in anger. "Yessir," he spat.
I sat in amazement as the hulking tormentor knelt at my feet with a hand on each of my knees, spreading them apart. Then, bringing his head to my groin, took Snake into his warm, moist mouth and began to suck. I gasped as his tongue flicked lightly at the sensitive area just behind the head. Then moaned as his head moved up and down, taking my cock into his throat all the way to the chrome encircled base. Mine evidently wasn't the first dick Dieter had ever tasted.
I glanced over at Peck's grinning face before closing my eyes, engulfed in the pleasure of Dieter's warm, moist mouth and tongue. Old Snake was rock hard, my balls churning in their nutsack. A harsh "ahhh" escaped my throat as I threw my head back. Placing a hand on each of Dieter's thickly muscled shoulders, I could feel him bobbing as his lips rode up and down the shaft of my cock. My hands slid to his neck, then to the back of his head and pulled him forward, forcing Snake further into his throat.
I could have felt some sense of satisfaction, a fraction of revenge. I should have considered this some small payback for the hell this fucker had caused. But my mind was centered on my dick. And on the tongue flicking at its head. Only to be engulfed again up to the cockring into the hot, wet suction of this hulking muscleman's mouth with old Snake's head ramming down his spasming gullet.
The man was good. Hell, he was fucking fantastic. And for the second time this afternoon, I could feel my balls ready to explode. And, while the shame and humiliation of the blowjob from L.T. prevented my full enjoyment, this was completely different. Dieter was an excellent, obviously experienced cocksucker. But the knowledge that he hated giving me head was a powerful turn on. He was about to drink my cum, and there was nothing he could do about it. Maybe Peck was right after all. I found the domination over the man to be intoxicating.
I pulled Dieter's head sharply forward, smashing his nose into my pubes as Old Snake vomited my ball juice into his clenching esophagus. My body shook with the force of the cum being pumped from my nuts, and I maintained the pressure on the back of Dieter's head as he swallowed the load until there was no more to take.
Reluctantly, I released my grip, my gasping breath beginning to slow to a more normal rhythm. I brought my head down and opened my eyes to see the evil, burning anger in Dieter's face as Old Snake plopped from his mouth and he began to stand. Wiping the back of a hand across his cum smeared lips, he continued to stare at me with a look that spoke silent volumes.
Peck uncrossed his arms and pushed himself from the edge of the desk, standing with a smug look on his fucking face. "Thank you, Dieter. You may go."
My gaze moved from Peck to Dieter, who glared at me with dark eyes under thunderous brows, as he straightened his uniform top. With a silent snarl on his lips, he turned and exited the room without looking back.
"Well, now," Peck began, striding closer to the chair in which I was now slumped, "you see. The benefits of working for me override any hesitation in carrying out my orders."
I straightened in the seat, mentally and sexually drained. But even so, my mind was questioning, looking for answers. The recollection of last night and the scene of L.T. bound and kneeling, his face a mass of bruises, his lips swollen and bleeding, brought one particular question to prominence. "You offered this same deal to Lieutenant Brown, didn't you?" I watched Peck's face, the corners of his mouth curling slightly. "And he turned you down. No, I'll bet he did more than turn you down. If I know him he told you to go fuck yourself, isn't that right? Probably a few more suggestions, as well. And that's when you had him beaten. Am I right?"
Peck raised his eyebrows, a look of amusement on his face as he nodded his head. "Yes, I did afford him the opportunity." Then, shrugging his shoulders, he continued. "However, he declined. Too bad, too. He'd have been quite an asset."
Stepping around behind my chair, Peck placed his hands on my shoulders. "Now, he'll have the opportunity to regret his choice. I've got a buyer in mind for your lieutenant. A strange little man, actually. But he's got the money and is more than willing to pay. He prefers men that are well endowed. He keeps them shackled, and, once each day, he 'milks' them and drinks their semen. Calls it his 'fountain of youth'." Peck let out a sharp laugh as he massaged my tensing shoulder muscles. "The last one I sold him apparently couldn't take the captivity or his future as a milk stud. So, one night, he cut off his own considerable cock and balls using his supper utensils."
I gasped in shock, unable to imagine a man being driven to castrate himself. Peck laughed and patted my shoulder as he came around in front of me again. "The old guy found his stud stone cold the next morning , having bled to death, with the dull knife in one hand and his dissected manhood in the other. The old bastard ate the severed testicles raw, trying for one last fix from the hefty nuts. Then, he contacted me, demanding that I replace his 'defective' merchandise."
Peck let out a loud, rumbling laugh. "Do you believe that?" He snorted. "He actually blamed me for the loss of his property." His laughter subsided and he went on. "Well, I did feel a little responsible, and I promised him a good price on a replacement. So, it looks like your lieutenant will be going cheap." He smiled at me, watching for my reaction.
I couldn't imagine a more demeaning existence for my virile, macho C.O.--kept in chains, only to be utilized as a cum factory for a deranged pervert. I found it even more horrific to imagine him resorting to self-mutilation to escape such fate.
I was jolted back to reality by Peck's barking voice. "Well, what'll it be? Accept my offer and fulfill your basic needs and desires or refuse and become another man's property. And, one more thing,” Peck raised his eyebrows, a look of evil amusement in his bluish eyes, "Dieter will not be amused by this afternoon's events."
Shit, I was in it deep for sure. Peck had me pegged. The thought of having my choice of men to use at my whim was a fantasy. And, if I accepted the offer, perhaps I could find a way to save the lieutenant and the rest of my men. It was a compelling argument. Or a desperate rationalization.
I remembered L.T.'s battered face as he knelt last night, bound with rope, his military bearing and stoic resolve still clearly evident in the wake of Peck's attempted humiliation. He was a man I was proud to serve under. A man I chose to serve with. A man I respected and admired. And I wasn't about to let him down now.
I met Peck's gaze dead on. "Go to hell."
A twitch stirred at the corner of Peck's mouth, his gray blue eyes now cold as ice. "No," he began, "you're the one on his way to hell." In an instant he had taken a controller from his pocket and pointed it in my direction. Too late, I attempted to propel myself from the leather chair. The fire in my groin seared into my guts and exploded in an excruciating wave throughout my body. But, unlike before, this time Peck continued to press the activator button. My vision dimmed as I clutched at the chrome ring, spasming into a fetal position at Peck's feet. The last thing I remember before losing consciousness was Peck's voice, heavy with sarcasm. "Bon voyage!"