The Telemachus Story Archive

The Mission
Part 3 - Bagged and shipped off
By Randy Dragon

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The Mission

Bagged and shipped off

GELDED!!! A US Marine gelded by a fuckin’ sand monkey! Hank’s eyes were bulging in horror. He sucked my fuckin’ dick. He should be docile like all those rug-heads, whom I tamed before!

The shame of utmost humiliation had the burly Master Sergeant stare in shock at the sneering rebel leader.

“You … you …” Hank was lost for words.

“The mighty Al-Dowary! Look at you Amariki! Not so tough anymore,” Rashad gloated.

“You … you took my fuckin’ balls!” Hank whispered.

“You, you, you,” Rashad scoffed. “You thought you had me, when I sucked your dick and when you screwed my ass. But Allah has delivered you gracefully into my hands. I wanted to present you as a gift to my women. They always asked me to bring them a white eunuch as their plaything, but looking at your pathetic manhood and those shrunken set of balls, they would only complain to me. So I changed my mind and made other plans for you …”

What the fuck??? Hank was confused. Then it sank in, what the Iraqi had just said. He looked at his groin and found his dick ridiculously retracted into a shriveled nutsac.

“Motherfucker!” The Marine went berserk, when it dawned to him that the rebel leader had fooled him. He was struggling like mad in his bonds and cursing and howling like a banshee.

Rashad burst out laughing. He had to put the jar on the sideboard and was wiping tears from his eyes. While the Marine was still in anesthesia he had discovered the forensic samples in a fridge. It gave him the idea to play a devilish joke on the American and now he watched gleefully how well it all had worked out.

“Fuck, you will pay for this! I will kill ya …” Heavily breathing he slumped on the examination desk and went silent, while Rashad laughed hysterically.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Corporal Tanker had appeared in the door. His dog tags were clinging on his bare chest which was still flushed from arousal like his face. The young Marine was bare-footed and naked to his narrow waist. His camo pants were hanging low on his hips. The open belt was dangling as Tanker had been in haste, when he was alerted by his Sergeant’s screams. The nurse with untidy hair in her open blouse was watching the scene over Tanker’s shoulder. The burly Master Sergeant was buck naked strapped onto the examination table his sexy butt pointing up. The naked Iraqi was playing with a forensic sample and couldn’t contain his laughter.

Rashad realized his fatal mistake. He had forgotten about the fucking couple.

Tanker spotted his gun that he had left with Hank earlier. Rashad followed his look and saw the weapon as well. During the struggle with the big Marine it had fallen down and was partly covered by Hank’s discarded clothes.

The blonde Marine sprinted across the room. From the corner of his eyes he saw the Arab charging at him. To shorten the distance he dove for the gun, landing heavily on the tiled floor. His hands grabbed the weapon. Without stopping his momentum he threw his body around and aimed at the charging Iraqi. But Rashad was too close already. He was diving as well and seized the wrists of the American. His naked body slammed down on the Corporal. The two gasping men wrestled. They were rolling on the floor. One time it was Tanker, who was on top, another time the Iraqi.

“Help me!” Hank shouted to the nurse. The woman rushed to his side and started to rip off the tape that was fixing him to the examination table.

“Take the scalpel. That is faster,” Hank urged, tensely watching the two fighting opponents.

“Hang on Tank! I’ll be with you in a minute!” Hank shouted.

Tanker had grown up on a farm and the farm work had provided him with a hard, well-muscled body, but he was not trained in hand-to-hand combat. When Hank shouted, both fighters looked distracted at the brawny Marine, to see when he would be able to intervene. Rashad knew that he had no chance against both Americans. He had to take the young buck out fast. Using the short distraction he landed a heavy blow at the side of the younger Marine’s head. Tanker shook his head to clear his blurred vision.

“Ha!” With a triumphant shout, Rashad wrestled the gun from him.

“Shit! No!” Hank yelled in desperation. The nurse who had fetched the tray with the scalpel stopped on her way back from the side-board to the table. Tanker folded both his fists and with a desperate blow he managed to hit the weapon from the surprised Arab’s hand. The gun slid across the room and came to a halt right at the feet of the nurse.

“Take it! Fast!” Hank shouted on top of his voice, “Shoot the bastard, shoot ‘em!”

Rashad pushed himself off the Corporal and rushed towards the nurse, who was about to pick up the gun. Realizing he would be too late he tried a desperate distraction. His bloodcurdling cry made the woman freeze and look at him. That was all he needed.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Hank shouted again, frantically pulling at his bonds. Helpless he had to watch as the naked Arab was slamming into the woman. Her head hit the floor with a heavy thud rendering her immediately unconscious. The tray with the instruments and the chloroform bottle smashed on the tiles. The bottle broke to thousands of pieces and the acrid smell of chloroform was spreading through the room.

“You fuckin’ bastard!” Tanker had rushed after the Iraqi. Seeing what he had done to the woman, he charged wildly at the rebel leader, instead of going for the gun.

“Tank, don’t …” Hank howled in frustration as he had to watch the scene helpless.

“I take that fuckin’ rug-head out!” Tanker fumed delivering a kick of his naked heel to the kidney of the Arab, who howled in agony. Tanker lifted his foot and thrust a brutal kick at the Iraqi’s head.

Rashad, however, anticipating this ducked under the attacking leg and performed a roundhouse kick hitting the young Marine’s supporting leg.

“No way!” Hank couldn’t believe what happened in front of his eyes. This rug-head had been trained by an expert. Tanker’s body seemed to hover for a second in midair, legs flailing until he crashed to the floor.

“Fuck! Aargh!” the Corporal landed heavily on his back, but he was a tough guy and now fuelled by his fury.

“You fuckin’ bastard!” Neglecting the shards which were cutting in his soles, Tanker charged again at the groaning Arab who was trying to get up and avoiding the sharp shards.

The young fighter rammed his body into the rebel leader flattening him down on the floor.

“Aaaaaaahhhh…!” Now it was Rashad’s part to howl in pain. Shards were cutting into his naked back. He was straddled by the Corporal, who pummeled his face. Rashad tried to block the blows as best as he could. Between the ongoing blows to his head and chest Rashad watched the Marine’s flexing abs. He noticed the open belt that was dangling from the camo pants and the curly treasure trail leading down into the halfway unbuttoned fly. Following an impulsive instinct Rashad dropped his guard entirely, leaving his face unprotected. He took a full blow to his cheek, while his hands shot forward ripping the camo’s front open. Buttons ripped and the jock’s dick came into view. Rashad’s hand closed around the shaft and started to jack.

“Fuck! What …?” Tanker’s next blow stalled in midair. He couldn’t believe it. The rug-head was fondling him. In reflex he reached down to cover his groin. While he was struggling with his torn pants Rashad reached up to the buzz cut head and pulled the startled Marine down into a forced kiss.

“Ummhhh,” The totally surprised jock wrestled him. He only wanted to get out of the Arab’s kiss. Rashad’s free hand grabbed around on the floor, looking for the scalpel. He would gut the American for good. However he found only the gauze he had earlier used on Hank.

“Noo..mmmmfff..nngghh”, a disgusted Tanker pushed himself away from the embrace.

“Fuck! You bloody faggot.” he yelled still sitting on the Iraqi’s belly.

Lightning fast Rashad reached up again and shoved the gauze into the cursing jock’s mouth. His hand pushed up against Tanker’s jaw and forced the Marine to bite into the chloroform soaked gauze. Instantly, a sharp acrid smell filled Tanker’s mouth. Dizziness numbed his mind. His hands shot up and he pushed the Iraqi’s hand off his jaw.

Finally he managed to get up, away from the Arab. He spat the sour gauze on the floor and tried to fight the dizziness.

“Aaaahh!” a mean blow to his kidneys propelled Tanker to the examination table. He stumbled and collapsed over Hank’s body. His pants slid down to his knees. Then Rashad was there and locked his neck brutally in a full nelson.

“Shit!” Tanker howled. His body was writhing in the Iraqi’s grip. The naked feet were clapping on the tiles. The dick was wobbling between his thighs, which were nicely sculpted from his outdoors horseback riding. His naked ass was pressed against the Arab groin. But his entire struggle was futile. The Corporal couldn’t break Rashad’s hold. His movements were already weakening. The pressure on his neck became almost unbearable.

“Fu…urghhh,” Tanker croaked in pain. Rashad smelled the panic in the sweat that was erupting from the young Marine’s body. The American knew that in a matter of moments his neck would snap.

“Don’t!” Hank’s voice pleaded,” please …not the kid.”

“Shiiittt! Sorry Sir, I …I cannttt ….” Tanker resigned in his obvious fate. The warm body was slumping like a rag doll against Rashad’s body. The fight was over.

“Noooo! You fuckin’ bastard! I kill you, I swear I kill you …” Hank howled on top of his voice.

Rashad was surprised to see the big Marine losing his composure in the presence of his squad man’s imminent death. The rebel leader who considered the American as equal sensed a way to penetrate his enemy’s mental defenses. He was pretty sure that torture would have had no effect on the tough fighter and after all there was no information the Marine could have, that would be of any importance for the insurgents at this time. The American would serve in a much different way.

But I can break you  …. Teach you a lesson …. before you leave Amariki I will break you … Rashad thought. He loosened his stranglehold and looked down at Hank. Tanker was barely conscious.

“Please ?!” Hank repeated. He had trouble to lift his head from his prone position.

“Open your mouth, Amariki,” the rebel leader ordered in a low voice.

“What?’ Hank asked confused.

The Iraqi changed his hold. Trapping the semi-conscious jock’s throat in the crook of his arm he reached down and started to stroke the dangling cock. The reduced air-flow would keep the young Marine dizzy and the sexual stimulus would keep him weak and horny.

“W-whaat? Uunghh…,” before Tanker was fully aware what was done to him, Rashad had already pumped him into semi-hard state. The young Marine was an easy prey. His fuck session with the nurse had stimulated his sexual system and the young man was ready for more. The thumb of Rashad’s brown hand was rubbing over the piss slit and distributing the first drops of pre-cum over the mushroom head. The Iraqi felt the warm body shuddering in his embrace. His own dick hardened against the young Marine’s firm buttocks.

“Oh no! Please …. not that,” Tanker realized what was going on. The rug-head was playing with his balls.

Rashad was weighing the Corporal’s balls in the palm of his hand. Still enough left to play with , he thought.

“Show me what you have got, Amariki!” His hand moved right below the mushroom head and pulled the skin tight down to the base of the penis. It had taken just one expert grip by the Arab and the young Marine dick stood at attention.

“Uuhhh shit,” Tanker groaned. His hips bucked forward until he was standing on the tips of his toes. Rashad couldn’t restrain himself from nibbling at the young jock’s earlobe. The nuts of the Marine were twitching in the swinging nut sack. Tanker felt a wave of sexual heat ravaging his self-control.

“NNoo! Ohh huh S-sir he is …huh ..Aawwww! Ffuuuckk!” Tanker turned into modeling clay in Rashad’s experienced hands. The Arab was licking his throat and was softly biting his neck and shoulders.

“If you want the young buck to live, open up!” the Arab demanded hoarsely.

Hesitantly the big Marine parted his lips. The rebel leader guided Tanker’s rock-hard, dripping cock straight into Hank’s mouth.

“Blow him!” Rashad gloated.

Hank knew he had no choice. By now the rug-head controlled them both. He had never encountered an Arab, who was so resilient in his fight and methodical in his actions. This one was playing with their minds and bodies and he was a skilled fighter. He was clearly a new breed of insurgent. The Master Sergeant was confused. He could not read the Iraqi’s intentions, he only knew, if the fucker had wanted to kill them, he could have done it already several times.

“Aaahh ….huhh huhh..” Tanker’s dick was growing in girth. The salty taste of pre-cum was gradually replacing the acrid flavor of both the chloroform and his puke in Hank’s mouth. The thought that this cock had been eagerly fucking the nurse’s pussy only an hour before, sent a tingling to Hank’s groin.

Tanker was covered in sweat. The young Corporal was dimly aware that he was face-fucking his superior and he felt unable to do anything about it. He was too much enthralled by what the Arab was doing to him and Hank’s sucking kept him hard. When he tried to pull his dick out of the Master Sergeant’s mouth the Iraqi’s hand on his butt was gently pushing him forward again, guiding him into a slow bucking rhythm.

“You like that lover-boy?” the Arab’s voice whispered into his ear.

“What? No, uhm. Fuck yeah, I like it,” he croaked, his hands were still locked on Rashad’s arm that was controlling him.

“Play with your nipples, Amariki, make them hard, you will like it,” The voice in Tanker’s ear purred. The jock rubbed obediently his hands over his sweaty torso. He squeezed his chiseled pecs and started kneading his man tits. Shivers of pleasure were rushing up and down his spine.

The big Sergeant realized that the scene was getting to him as well. Tanker’s beefy body was toyed with by the sinewy Arab, who was wrapping the young stud in layer after layer of sexual arousal and burning lust. The moaning, writhing sex doll had nothing in common with the horny, cocky boy hunk that had proudly bedded the nurse less than an hour ago. Hank had secretly lusted after the firm body when they were out in the desert, confined to enforced abstinence; however the Corporal seemed to be as straight as they come and Hank had no opportunity to make a move on him.

The Iraqi was offering him the sexy country boy helpless throbbing and juicing and so he was eagerly gobbling and sucking the Corporal’s man meat. Rashad realized that the big Marine was getting into it. The sentiment of triumph turned into euphoria. He had both Americans by their balls. Rashad released his stranglehold. If the younger Amariki had wanted it, he could have started to fight again, but his eyes remained half shut and he continued to buck and to play with his tits.

Rashad was losing his self-control as well. He was throwing a raging boner and was craving for release. His hands parted Tanker’s firm butt cheeks and spat a huge glob of saliva in the shit chute. Rashad saw it oozing down and when it reached the rosy sphincter he used his fingers to pull the puckered hole apart.

“Ohhhh!” Tanker moaned when his ass was fingered. He liked it when a girl was doing this to him and the sensation entangled him even further into the web of lust, which was trapping him. His bucking accelerated. Hank’s eyes were closed by now. The slurping intensified.

The young Marine felt the first contractions in his groins and tried to hold back. He wanted the sensations to last forever. Fingers entered his mouth and he started to lick and to suck. Then something warm and big entered his butt cheeks.

“Relax,” the seductive voice whispered. Tanker wriggled his ass and Rashad felt the resistance of the sphincter waning. It took just a little thrust from his hips and he had the Marine jock impaled.

“Fffffff….” Tanker hissed in sudden pain. His body went rigid.

“Don’t stop! Go on faster now,” Rashad’s voice urged.

The Corporal continued humping Hank’s face, but now he was riding on the Iraqi’s rod. Quickly he had accommodated and found a new rhythm. When the body in front of him jumped again on his toes, arching his back, Rashad chuckled.

“Oh yesss!” Tanker impaled himself again and again on the Arab’s manhood. His prostrate, enjoying the constant rubbing, was driving him mad. When his sensitive dickhead touched the back of his Sergeant’s throat he jerked back only to jump moments later when the hard Arab cock hit is g-spot. The young Marine was caught in a rhythm, unable to escape and his constant moaning and humping pushed Hank finally beyond his own self-esteem.

Rashad watched as the big Marine’s hips started to buck. Horny grunts emerged from the fucked throat. The rebel leader’s nuts were on fire.

“Uuuurghhaaa…” Tanker erupted in Hank’s mouth with a Neanderthal howl. His sphincter contracted and Rashad was immediately carried away. Groaning and hollering the Iraqi pumped his man seed into the howling Marine jock. Cum and saliva was spilling from the corners of Hank’s mouth and seeping down to the floor. Tanker doubled over and collapsed on top of Hank. He was gasping and tried to comprehend what just had happened. He had fucked the mouth of his Sergeant and the rug-head was still fucking him up his ass.

“Ohh nooo, fuckin’ shiiit,” the young Marine groaned in shame and desperation. His whole body was flushed and he was drenched in sweat. He cringed when the Iraqi pulled his massive dick from his ass-hole. Tanker could feel his gaping hole. He looked at his Sergeant seeking for help, however, Hank’s head was dangling powerless. The big Marine was somehow caught in a rocking motion. The round ass was flexing and an occasional moan could be heard. Tanker couldn’t believe that Hank was acting like a whore in heat.

“You should cum as well Al-Dowary. It is not healthy for a man to jam his juices.” The Arab walked behind the big Marine and squeezed the sweaty buttock.

“Get your hand off me, motherfucker!” Hank had regained a part of his dignity, but Rashad knew that he had weakened his foe dearly. The American could be taken by now. He reached between the hunky thighs and closed his hand around the 11 inch dick.

“Fuck you! Get your hands off!” Hank ranted and Tanker watched mesmerized. The dick was twitching in Rashad’s hand and when the Arab was kneading the hefty shaft it started to harden. But Rashad didn’t leave it time to grow gradually. He rammed his finger in Hank’s ass and simultaneously his thumb was pressing into the sensitive region between the nut sack and the ass cleft. The dick surged abruptly in his hand.

“Shit!” Hank’s eyes bulged when he was jump-started. He struggled in his bonds.

Rashad removed his finger from the ass-hole and caught the wobbling nuts in his fist elegantly twisting his wrist. His fingers closed slowly like a vise, making Hank gasp.

“Cum for me, Amariki! Spill your juice on my command!”

Hank didn’t know what the Arab was doing to him, he only knew he was rock-hard. The squeeze of his balls was deftly but it didn’t really hurt.

Then he found himself drowning in torrential lust. Without any warning his body was catapulted into a mind shattering orgasm. His nuts gave in to the continuous pressure and released his man juice in a giant uncontrolled eruption.

“Fuuuck!” Hank yelled at the top of his voice. His body twisted as much as the bonds were permitting and then he realized that, while he was unable to control his body, the rug-head was.

With his firm grip that now strengthened right below the crimson mushroom head, Rashad reduced the flow of cum to a trickle. Hank reacted as if he was struck by a lightning.

“Aargh! Fuck! Shit! …Huhhhh!” His entire body went into convulsions, turning crimson red.

“Nnooo…aawiieewww uh..uh..uh” His screaming changed into piercing shrieks and turned finally into an ongoing series of hysteric squeals and stifled groans, while his seed was oozing agonizing slowly from the squeezed piss slit.

“It’s ok Amariki, it’s ok. Now you will give me all you’ve got, isn’t it?” Slowly the Arab was milking his bull into oblivion. It took Rashad almost 10 minutes until the big Marine’s balls were drained to the last drop and during this 10 minutes he turned the callous hunk into a wincing, babbling man child.

Tanker had watched in shock. Hank was moaning in the aftermath of his climax. His entire mangled crotch was beet red. The tiny dick, reduced to a mere 2 inch flaccid sausage, had retracted again into the shrunken nut sack. This time not because of fear, but because he had been milked dry. Rashad gloated over the scene. He slapped the Corporal who was staring at the puddle of cum that had collected under the table on his butt.

“Now it’s your turn, lover-boy, you see how much he needs it,” Rashad grinned.

"But ... but ... noooo!" Tanker objected, but the Arab seized his shoulders and pushed him in position.

"So little stamina, Amariki?" Rashad sneered.

"No! But I ... I can't," the young Marine was squirming in confusion. He didn't want to fuck his Sergeant but he couldn't stand it that the rug-head questioned his sexual prowess.

"Come on!" the rebel leader seized the Corporal by the neck.

"Fuck him!" he ordered and spanked Tanker's bubble butt.

"Aaaww!" Tanker yelled with disgust, however, he started to strike his dick.

Rashad was shaking the young Marine by his neck like a puppy.

"What? No...aaaw...shit...aaww!" It took the Arab a few slaps on the fast reddening butt cheeks, stern commands and finally Tanker's dick was gliding inside Hank's ass-hole.

"Yeah.." The big Marine grunted approvingly. Rashad had given him a few slaps as well and as soon as Tanker was in place he forced Hank's sphincter to contract around the Corporal's dick by spanking the Sergeant's muscular ass cheeks firmly.

Rashad grinned gleeful while Tanker started to hump. He had the two Marines nicely coupled. Tanker was in trance. His dick felt so well inside Hank's tight ass and he felt horny as never before in his life.

"Oh shit, that feels so good, oh fuck ...", he gasped.

Rhythmically humping his Sergeant, he watched with wide open eyes as the Arab walked around the table until he was facing him. Rashad lifted Hank's heavy head.

"Uhhhh fuuuckkk! You g-got me good," The Marine's eyes were still glassy.

"Oh, we are just beginning..." with a sneering grin Rashad was feeding his dick to the coughing and gurgling hunk.

"Come here, Amariki," Rashad urged the Corporal to bend over the jerking body towards him and Tanker followed like being pulled by an invisible string. Before he knew it, the Iraqi was kissing him passionately.

Rashad's cock was swelling rapidly inside Hank's throat. The Iraqi was on a roll. He had turned the tables on his captors and was inflicting a most humiliating defeat on the two Marines. The most feared Al-Dowary was stuffed from both ends, eagerly sucking Arab dick as docile as a lamb. The young Marine had become victim of his horniness and Rashad was sure he would by now agree to any kind of sex whatsoever.

Tanker responded willingly to the kiss. His hands were holding his Sergeant's hips while his dick was thrusting in and out the slippery hole.

Hank was in shock, unable to defend himself. Only Taylor Henderson had ever taken him down sexually, but what he was experiencing in the hands of the rebel leader, went far beyond. Rashad had systematically exploited his weaknesses and even managed to turn his strength and stamina against him. When both his mouth and his ass were flushed with cum almost simultaneously, his own desire to cum became unbearable. However his nuts were drained thoroughly. Hank's body was writhing spasmodically in the thrills of a most intense dry orgasm, while his deflated dick was helplessly trying to produce at least a tiny dribble, but failed.

Heavily breathing Tanker was lying on top of his Sergeant, indulging in his own climax. His dick was still resting in the sheath of Hank's chute. When a chloroformed gauze was put over his nose he couldn't muster any resistance. Rashad grinned when the astonished looking eyes glazed over and the Corporal's body went slack.

The Arab fixed wrists and ankles of the young Marine with adhesive tape and taped even his mouth. Then he walked over to the sideboard and fetched the satellite phone.

"Convey my respect to Master Huang, I have a perfect specimen," Hank heard the Iraqi snickering.

"Send the crew to pick him up and prepare the shipment ....good .... good...excellent. This will cost you, however, ... this time I want rockets ... I am glad we have an understanding" Rashad hang up.

"Amariki I am afraid we have to part, although you were a lot of fun. But your new owners are very keen to have you as soon as possible," Rashad gloated.

"What are you talking about, sonofabitch?" Hank was slowly recovering.

"I hope you don't fall seasick, Amariki, `cause it will be a long journey," Rashad was pulling something from a cabinet. Hank's eyes widened when he recognized a body bag.

"Fuck you! No!" the big Marine was cursing. But all his shouting, wriggling and bouncing were to no avail. Rashad removed the tapes holding the brawny body on the examination table. He cut the bandages that were tying the American's wrists to his ankles but left arms and legs in tethers.

Hank ended up in the black plastic bag with a tape over his mouth. Rashad soaked Hank's discarded undershirt generously with chloroform and put it inside the body bag.

"Sleep well Amariki," he sneered and closed the zipper. The convulsions in the bag and the muffled grunts were quickly subsiding, when the vapor of the chloroform did its work.

Shortly after, a group of Asian seamen arrived at the hospital. Rashad was now wearing Tanker's camos. The Asians carried the big body bag down and loaded it onto a lorry. In the meantime commandos from Rashad's rebel force had arrived as well. They were cheering their leader and carried the unconscious nurse and the limp naked body of the Corporal as Rashad's personal booty to their trucks. Soon the hospital was silent. In the wee hours of the morning a container ship under Liberian flag left the port of Basra bound for an unknown destination.


At the same time on the other side of the globe a Sergeant didn't believe what he was told. Kyle Henderson was 27 years old. The Sergeant with his V-shaped torso and the chiseled 240 lbs body stood 6.1 ft. tall. His blond hair was crew cut. Grey eyes with a touch of blue dominated his masculine clean shaven face.

"Are you out of your mind?" Kyle's expression was a mixture of shock and anger.

"Just chill, mate," Dwight tried to calm his buddy down.

"You are mad, I am not going to do that." Kyle had no intention to cool down," Have you any idea how much effort it took to get that shit-head back on track? And now you are asking me to ... to do this shit again, but this time for the Corps? This is madness! How could you even have such a fuckin' plan?"

"It was actually Hank who suggested it ..." Dwight tried to explain.

"Hank?! That fuckin' sonofabitch should know better," Kyle shouted, now truly enraged.

"Why don't you let me explain ...?" Dwight tried, but was interrupted again.

"You shut your fuckin' mouth. I will not do it! Never! That's it!" Kyle slammed his fist on Dwight's desk, shot a furious look at the other Sergeant and turned to leave the room.

Just when he tried to grab the door handle, the door was opened from the outside.

"You were saying ... Sergeant?" Major Ben O'Rourke filled the door frame.

“Uhm, Sir, well I was … uhm;” Kyle stuttered.

“You were saying, copy that, Sergeant, isn’t it?” the Major glared.

“Yes, Sir! Of course, Sir, will do. Copy that!” Kyle muttered defeated.

"What an honor! Big Bro visits the black sheep of the family", Taylor Henderson, 22 years-old, raised his brows in mocked astonishment, when Kyle entered the shop.

His brother did hardly resemble the scrawny teenager, who had been up to no good at all. Kyle still felt embarrassment when he remembered, how many times he had fallen victim to his younger brother's vicious tricks.

Hank -- after some bad experiences as well -- had finally managed to tame the mischievous spirit. He had taken the reluctant teen out for an extended hiking trip to the mountains. Taylor didn't like to remember this time when he was put into his place. He came home meekly limping, with a black eye and did not even object once, when he was sent to a selected college, which was run by strict rules and stern padres.

He was intelligent. As Kyle remarked always, there was an evil brilliance within his brother. His grades were outstanding and his teachers were rather delighted.

Taylor had taken up a job as a sales clerk in a surf shop. Surfing had become his major off-time sport. He had still his goatee, but that was the only reminiscence to his teenage times.

The once pale skin had turned into a dark tan. Taylor was wearing his bleached hair at shoulder length and neatly tied as a pony tail. A pukka shell choker was tied around his neck. Standing at 5.9 ft, Taylor's shoulders were now broad and his chest was nicely developed. There was as well a six-pack abs developing. A small treasure trail went from his belly button down and disappeared under the waistband of the orange and red flowered Bermudas.

He was the opposite to his older brother who had arrived on his bike in his brown army T-shirt, revealing his sinewy forearms, camo pants and heavy combat boots. Taylor turned on his naked feet and left his brother in front of the sales desk. Kyle sighed and followed Taylor into the staff room. There were posters of Colin Farel and Jesse Metcalfe on the wall. Kyle put his black Caberg Katana crash-helmet on the coffee table.

"You care for a beer, bro?" Taylor asked.

"No thanks," Kyle recalled what happened 4 years ago after he had accepted a beer from his brother only to find himself drugged and tethered in his own bed. He had been ready for hot and raunchy weekend sex with his girlfriend and ended fucked silly by his brother.

"Still suspicious, huh?" Taylor's eyes sparkled quizzically. He flung himself on a couch and rubbed his crotch obscenely.

"Stop that! We need to talk about some serious matter." Kyle said angrily and sat down in a leather armchair.

"Why are you always so boring, big bro?" Taylor yawned and scratched his armpit.

"Did you get off today already?" Taylor was scratching his crotch again.

"Stop it, will `ya?" Kyle snorted.

"I see, apparently not .... yet," Taylor stared provocatively at his brother's groins.

Kyle felt his dick stir. He hadn't fucked for two days now and the only relief had been the usual j/o under the shower in the morning. Taylor knew all too well that his beefy Marine brother was constantly horny. He was changing his chicks like the daily underwear and it was not an exception that he was dating two girls in one night in a row.

"Now listen, butt-head," Kyle was determined to stay in control of this conversation, "this is not like 4 years ago and there is no dad or mom around to help you."

"Ooooh, I'm so afraid," Taylor put up a timid expression, "may be, if I could see more muscle, I would be even more afraid ... Sarge."

"Fuck you! I told you, this is serious!" Kyle was glaring at his brother.

"Yeah I know, you are seriously in love with me," Taylor mocked. But this time he had gone too far.

"You fuckin' asshole! You need a lesson to be taught, again!" Kyle shot up from his chair and before Taylor had a chance to get up his brawny brother's heavy body was all over him. Taylor inhaled Kyle's manly smell.

"You need a shower, man!" Taylor giggled while he tried to fend of the burly Marine. His muscles were straining and Kyle was surprised how much resistance the once scrawny punk was able to muster. Taylor knew he couldn't prevail much longer. In a desperate attempt he went straight for Kyle's crotch. His fingers tried to follow the outline of his brother's cock. The man tool seemed to respond, but the hunky stud was still in control.

"Fuck you! Hands off!" Kyle fumed and brushed his brother's fingers away from his groin.

"Hey!" Taylor howled in both pain and protest when his brother grabbed his pony tail and hauled him up to his feet. Kyle dragged his yelling and kicking brother over to the arm chair.

"Now, I am teaching you some respect!" Kyle a pulled Taylor over his knees, held him tight round the waist to prevent him from getting up.

"No!" Taylor yelled again when his Bermudas were yanked down exposing a nicely melon-shaped white bubble butt.

Kyle raised his strong arm and brought his hand down with a clapping blow, flattening the white butt cheek.

"Ouuww! Get your hands of me, you oaf!" Taylor was writhing on Kyle's lap. His legs were fanning. He felt his cock hardening, pressing into his brother's groin.

"Yeah! You didn't see that coming, huh!" Kyle whacked his brother hard. The firm butt cheeks were turning crimson.

"Stop it! Let me go!" Taylor wriggled in pain. He felt immensely turned on by his brother spanking him and he sensed that it had its effects on his brother as well. His hard boner was massaging Kyle's cock through the fabric of his camo pants. However Kyle was too furious to pay attention.

"Stop! Ouch! You're makin' me cum, man!" Taylor hollered when he got closer. But Kyle didn't show any mercy. He remembered when Taylor had once spanked him raw bent over his bike. Suddenly Taylor's whole body went stiff.

"Ohhh fff-ffuuck! I shoot my fuckin' load, can't hold back," Taylor howled.

"What?" Kyle stopped in shock. His brother was still bucking on his lap in the rhythm of the spanking.

"You pervert bastard!" Kyle tried to push Taylor from his lap. But it was too late.

"Aaargh! Shiit! Uuurgh ... uhh ... huhhh!' Taylor convulsed. His throbbing cock gushed load after load of his gooey cum onto his brother's lap.

"Oh shit you bastard! You did that on purpose!" Kyle had gotten up and looked in disgust on his cum soaked pants.

"Thank's bro! That was hot," Taylor was on his back looking up at Kyle, while his hand was milking the last drops of cum from his softening dick.

"They will truly see, that you had some fun, when you return back to base, huh?" Taylor sneered.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Kyle was sitting again and bent down, opening the laces of his boots.

Taylor didn't bother to fetch his discarded Bermudas. Naked he went to the fridge and fetched himself a can of beer.

"You like to have a beer now?" he asked his brother over his shoulder.

"Whatever ..." Kyle replied. He slipped from his camo pants. Stripped down to his undershirt, white socks and a coarse-knit, natural colored jock strap, he walked over to the kitchen counter to rinse the soaked pants in the sink.

"You are really an ass hole," Kyle muttered.

"You started it!" Taylor protested and giggled. He took a sip from his can.

"I didn't expect you to shoot so fast," Kyle replied working on his pants.

"Hey, you want me to get you off?" Taylor pointed with his hand holding the can at Kyle's swollen bulge.

"Fuck off! I told you that is serious," Kyle spread his pants over the kitchen counter and dried it with some paper towel.

"What is so serious, that my horny Marine brother turns into a monk?" Taylor turned to Kyle and squeezed his brother's crotch with a firm grip.

`Fuck off!" Kyle seized his brother's throat and pushed him with his back against the fridge. "I swear, I'll beat you up, if you do that again!" he threatened.

"Ok, ok, be cool man, " Taylor croaked.

Kyle released him and fetched his beer. Suspiciously he checked the seal of the can.

"Relax. It's clean," Taylor grinned," besides I wouldn't need that. If I wanted, I could have `ya any time ...".

"Tayl !" Kyle glowered.

"Ok, ok, chill down bro," Taylor raised his arms in surrender.

"So, what is it that brings you here?" Taylor asked.

"We have a problem with some guys ..." Kyle looked at his brother.

"I am listening," Taylor said.

"See, there is this guy that has been captured by the gooks ..." Kyle told his brother the whole story.

"... and now the Corps wants me to catch these bullies?" Taylor's eyes rose in disbelief.

Kyle looked at him in earnest.

"Fuck, you are not kiddin'. You mean it!" Taylor shouted amused.

"Are you doing it?" Kyle asked.

"And if I say, `No'?" Taylor asked slyly.

Then fuck you and you can go to hell , Kyle thought, but he didn't speak it out aloud. He knew that Major O'Rourke wouldn't let him off the hook. He had no choice. He had to convince his brother.

Taylor was enthralled by the idea, but he wanted to play a bit with his brother. When Kyle did not answer, he sensed that his brother was in a predicament. Taylor knew him all too well. In a blink of an eye he realized that his brother was under pressure to bring him in. From that moment on Kyle was doomed.

"Then, I'd say good-bye and look for another faggot to help me out," Kyle bluffed.

"Ok, good-bye then and thanx for the spanky-wanky," Taylor replied lackadaisical.

"Ok, ok, how much?" Kyle asked, losing his composure.

"10 grands," Taylor grinned.

"What!" Kyle seized his brother again by his throat.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Taylor said with a sneer.

"Ok, you've got it," Kyle realized he had no bargaining power.

"That's not all," Taylor grinned devilishly.

"What else?" Kyle asked.

"Well I think you want to test whether I am still good at it, won't you?' Taylor looked at him and suddenly Kyle knew that he was in trouble.

"N-no! Don't even think about ..." Kyle stammered.

"Take your shirt off, Sarge," Taylor ordered sternly.

"Listen, Taylor, this is ..." Kyle tried to argue.

"Shut up and strip!" Taylor shouted.

"Fuck!" Kyle hissed through clenched teeth. He had no choice. He peeled the T-shirt from his brawny torso. Tribal tattoos were covering his broad shoulders and circling around his heavy biceps. Kyle started to strip his jock strap.

"Leave that ," Taylor walked closer. "Flex for me baby!"

Kyle raised his arms and pumped his muscles. His beefy pecs stood out firmly. Taylor raised his can and rubbed the cold metal against one of his brother's man tits. He knew how much his brother got turned on by having his nipples played with and it hadn't changed throughout the years.

"Huh, uhhh yeah," Kyle responded with a soft moan as his fleshy knob went rigid.

Taylor took the other tit in his mouth and sucked and nibbled until his brother's knees started to buckle.

"Now over there," Taylor pointed to the arm chair. With the silent litheness of a predator, that is sure of his prey, Taylor walked around his brother. The pumped chest, the chiseled abs, the broad shoulders, the tattoos, the tapered waist and the firm sexy bubble butt, it was all his again. Taylor licked his lips.

He fondled the half-hard dick through the rough fabric of the jock strap. His brother was too horny to put up any resistance. Taylor felt the bonerizing meat twitching in his hand. The fabric was stretching to its limits, hardly able to contain the huge bulge. A wet spot began to appear on the coarse fabric.

"Uhhhh.." the Marine groaned. Taylor knew his brother was primed.

He made the hunky Marine Sergeant bending over the leather-covered chair. Kyle's hands were touching the carpet, while his hips were suspended between the two arm rests supporting his abs and his thighs. His long muscular legs were spread and hanging down, only his toes were slightly touching the ground. The helmet was pulling his head down. Taylor fetched a cup of shortening from the kitchen counter.

"Just as in the good ol' times," he mocked while greasing his brother's chute.

"Are you shaving yourself or do you have one of your chicks doing it?" Taylor distributed the shortening generously. He kneaded the hairless nut sack and squeezed his brother's heavy balls making the stud groan. Taylor permitted his greasy finger to slip playfully inside the puckered hole. The whole muscular body went stiff.

"Nnoo," came a muffled grunt, but Kyle knew he had no say in what was about to happen. Taylor greased as well the firm butt cheeks massaging the rounded orbs deftly. He pushed Kyle's hips down until his bulge touched the leather surface of the seat. Carefully he adjusted the hefty package until he had put it into the intended position. Kyle's big body was flushed by sporadic shudders.

"Ok, now I guess you want to check out, what I am going to do to Brock Rowley," Taylor mounted his brother. His arms reached around the big chest and his groin rested right on Kyle's buttocks. Taylor started to knead his brother's nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, while simultaneously bucking his hips. His hardening boner was plowing deeper and deeper between the greasy cheeks.

Taylor felt sweat forming on his brother's back which was melting with his own. The harder his cock became the deeper it went spreading the firm buttocks. Taylor's dick head was nicely greased and slippery by now and soon Kyle felt it probing against his sphincter.

Taylor knew him all too well. A sharp double twist at his sizzling tits and Kyle spread his thighs, making his sphincter gaping open. Effortless Taylor dunked his rod inside the warm, moist channel. With an amazing strength he held on to his brother's body and slammed his hips down. Each thrust drove Kyle's dick that was caught in the coarse fabric of his jock strap into the leather-covered seat. The rough texture of the fabric was scratching the sensitive underside of his throbbing erection, tantalizing him towards a state of sexual agony. Now he understood why Taylor had arranged him so carefully. He wanted to cum desperately, but he had to walk to climax on a delayed path.

"Ohhhh ... shitt!" Kyle groaned. Taylor knew he was driving his brother nuts.

Once again Taylor had his hunky Marine brother squirming under him in ecstasy. The beefy muscle-packed body was trapped. Taylor was holding the jock by his sensitive man tits, while impaling him from behind. The stimulations forced the grunting stallion into a bucking rhythm and Taylor knew that Kyle would only stop after he had found relief.

"Mmmh ... huuuhh," Overwhelming sensations pulsed from both Kyle's groin and from his drilled guts throughout his body. His long legs were fanning while he was slam-fucked into the leather chair.

"Let me teach you something knew, soldier boy," Taylor hollered. One of his hands released the swollen nipple and traveled down across the convulsing belly. When he found the belly button he stiffened his thumb and buried it deep into the navel. Simultaneously he made his hand vibrate and wriggle.

"Uhhhrgh!" Kyle howled in unbridled lust. His guts were now stimulated from both sides. His ass hole contracted around his brother's dick.

"Fire in the hole!" Taylor yelled in triumph, humping himself with a few well-trained thrusts over the threshold to climax. Now, there was no more holding back for both brothers.

"Aaaarghh!" Taylor flooded his brother's guts with his gooey load. Kyle's body was writhing and bucking in uncontrolled ecstasy.

"Uuuhhhrgh...", Kyle's fabric-encased dick squirmed and exploded. His bulge twitched first once and then several faster twitches followed. Taylor felt the corresponding contractions of the ass-hole squeezing his dick. Marine spunk was copiously seeping through the taut fabric and dripping onto the black leather, collecting in a puddle of white, hot man juice.
"Ohh! Huh ... huh ... huh!" Kyle felt as if his guts were emptied through his throbbing shaft, his nuts were pumping until only a tiny silvery string of goo was dribbling from the mangled dick.

It took a while until Kyle was able to regain his senses. His brother was kneading his tattooed shoulders.

"You ok?" Taylor asked and it sounded concerned.

"Fuck! That was intense." Kyle groaned. Taylor helped him to get up. The Marine slumped exhausted in the seat. He didn't care about his butt sliding on his own cum. Breathing deeply, he covered his eyes with his forearm.

"You liked it, huh?" Taylor was sitting straddling his brother's lap.

Kyle lowered his arm and looked at his brother.

"I guess so," he said and after a moment of hesitation he pulled his brother into a passionate kiss. Taylor couldn't believe it. He was helpless wrapped into the strong arms of his stud brother trapping him in an iron embrace. His brother had detested him all his life. How much he had tried to win his love or even sympathy -- he had failed, and now finally...

"So, your queer brother isn't so bad after all," Taylor asked in a low voice.

"Oh you are bad, but not that bad," Kyle grinned.

"Hey!' Taylor pummeled his brother's chest in mocked indignation.

`U-Hmm ... I hate to interrupt you two lovebirds, but ...," Dwight leaned in the door wearing a broad grin.

"Fuck! You left the door open." Taylor scolded. He looked for his Bermudas.

"No, you left the door open," Kyle objected.

"You brought the cavalry, huh?" Taylor asked his brother.

"He didn't know, I was following him," Dwight explained, "after all, I felt some back-up couldn't be wrong."

"So what took you so long?" Kyle was putting his pants on.

"Uhm, well I was ..." Dwight blushed slightly.

"... watching!" Taylor grinned.

"You are a bloody voyeur, you know?!" Kyle snickered.

"You seemed to like it and by the way, welcome to the club," Dwight sneered.

"Don't raise yourself any hopes," Kyle laughed.

"Yeah, his ass is mine," Taylor glowered at Dwight.

“Dream on!! Dwight huffed, “Let’s get your asses back to base.”

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