The Telemachus Story Archive

Deep Blue
Part 3 - Full Fathoms Five
By Wolfpek (Illustrated by Wolfpek)
Email: Wolfpek

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Chapter 3 - Full Fathoms Five


The ice in Qube's glass tinkled with the agitation of his shaking hand. The other hand squeezed the last drooling droplets out of his swollen dick. It had been more than worth the sacrifice of a few henchmen to witness this scene. Giant screens lining the cave walls were already replaying the brutal degradation, but nothing would recapture the aching ecstasy of witnessing the first rape of his new steely tough navy SEAL slave firsthand.


That carefully planned, image was seared into his mind for eternity. The tough guy stud, vulnerable and nude, stretched out undulating on the sea floor, like a carp on a hook eventually relaxing into stillness. His only link to life the aphrodisiac gas pumping from his oxygen tank into his heaving lungs.


His steely muscles glowed blue white in the otherworldly light of azure depths. Even whiter yet, his firm virgin buttocks raised up enticingly over the rock where his slim hips had come to gentle rest. A lavish gift from the Poseidon, framed only by the small straps of that tantalizing cup. That image alone could have satisfied him.


The straps gave to the slightest tug of webbed fingers, and the graceful line of naked rib, hip and lean taut leg lay completely exposed to the beast which hovered above to claim the treasure buried between the submerged white granite globes.


The unbearable look of concentrated pain on that beautiful, masculine face, and the sight of the thin waist widening into spherical perfection, where huge finned rod speared into that tender crack sent Qube over the edge spewing cum onto the thick glass, while the unsated monsters danced the impaled hunk around, one thrusting vengefully from behind, as the other sucked Flint’s manly seed into his greedy maw.


Qube prayed they would not devour him after the assault, as he had seen them do to many unfortunate divers before. He had trained them very well, but he had to admit Flint looked like a tasty feast even to him. Still, the understanding that the hunky lieutenant slumbered in the midst of such mortal danger was enough to stiffen his piggish cock anew. He breathed a sigh of relief as they carried his defeated form back to the base uneaten.


He turned breathless when he heard the airlock, and saw his captured prize, ass first, ascending the ladder. Once again hanging limp, peaceful, over the frogman's shoulder. This time however the glorious raped buttocks were completely naked, and his for the taking. The white melons shiny with sea water which soaking the hairs on the striated muscles of his swaying legs and dropping with each froggy step as the beast carried the burden to it's new owner, and handed him the torn jock strap.


He inhaled the wet cotton deeply and gazed upon the ruined hole oozing blood and frogman semen. A reverent whisper, barely audible choked from his parched throat "So beautiful... so .. dirty" The cotton trophy dropped to the floor, and he one wraithlike claw dug into the unyielding flesh of granite buttock, followed quickly by it's twin, caressing the taut round muscles manipulating the drenched globes apart for better access to the ruined chute. "We must clean you" He dived face first into the heavenly vale, grizzled jaw wedged into the bruised perineum. Sunken cheeks nestling deeply into the inner cleft, agile tongue plummeting full fathom past the defeated sphincter, rat tat tatting on the drum of the sensitized prostate. Deep within his nightmare the unconscious hunk, head and arms swaying upside down toward the floor, uttered the faintest of moans pulling the moist invader sounding further and further into new territory. His patient henchmen waited an eon while his master tasted all the dark delights of the depths of the captured SEAL.


Finally pulling back, he retrieved the precious jock strap, wiped his face with the musky juice of its former owner, and sighed. "Bind him for deep cleaning"

It was the sound of the whistling whip, more than the sharp bolt of pain that jolted Flint awake. As Qube had predicted the sublime music of his screams raged through his heart like a celestial choir.


The suspended stud, this time in an upside down X, did not have time to draw another breath for the next manly howl, before the lash fell again, and again.


In between the bursts of pain he became aware of metal clamps biting into his bleeding nipples, balls, and inserted into the tip of his cock attached to wires running to the throne. Unable to count the strikes, he could barely focus as they slowed. He saw Qube watching from his throne, feet up on his strange ottoman. Two Frogmen behind, delivering blows, and a third pointing a hose at him.

Qube began to clap. He was wearing Flint's ripped jock strap as a necklace.

"Welcome back to our little party Lieutenant. I must say you put on a delightful show for us. Now we must clean you off after your strenuous efforts"

"You BASTARD... AHHHGG!!" The whip fell again, followed by an explosive jet from the hose shooting salt water into his wounds. Flint, struggling to maintain consciousness, barely had the ability to scream, let alone curse.

"No, still not quite sufficient, don't you agree?" Qube touched the control panel in his armrest, and lighting crackled from the clamps sizzling through the rain of salt water cascading over sleek catlike muscles, mingling with the blood pouring from his wounds to form a pink cocktail enveloping the hanging head. The stalwart lieutenant performed a frenzied jig, to the beat of the electricity surging into his burning cock, balls and nipples.

"Very cleansing no? But we have not scoured every nook and cranny, have we? And you have been a very, very dirty boy"

Flint made a valiant effort to struggle as a second hose was produced and forced into his abused asshole.


"We need you very clean for our next little drama, this is my own concoction; sea water and something wonderfully special. It will help you relax, and I so enjoy watching to pass in, and out of consciousness"

Flint could smell his own flesh burning as the electricity and spray shook through him again, but now he felt the powerful rush of water flood into his very centre, filling him until he must burst.


He began, once more to feel a delightful sense of floating, as if he were again swimming, floating free, the receding bolts left a pleasant tingling in is balls, nipples and rising cock, He felt his stomach release, and was flying in a sea of lust as he was, gently released from his bonds, bathed clean.


He heard Qube's singsong voice, a lullaby, loving and far away as hands, hundreds of healing, hungry hands caressed every inch of his nude, muscular form wafted him through the air, spinning him over and draping him face down over something cool.

His ass riding high, the focus of so much desire, bonds snapped snugly around his wrists and ankles, but he continued to fly above where even the air seemed to want him. His iron dick pulsed against the metal on which it rested.


Qube turned when he heard the sound of the captured nuclear sub dock in his compound. He settled back in his throne, feet high up on his newly completed footstool, and nodded to his henchmen. "Bring the new ones to me." He looked up to his heels, resting heavily into the firm flesh of Flint's perfect upraised ass and smiled. "There is so much more fun to be had"


To be continued.......................................

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