The Telemachus Story Archive

The Mission
Part 8 - Attacking the Temple
By Randy Dragon

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The Mission

Attacking the Temple

The USS Vincent Mancroft had crossed the Korea Strait and the Yellow Sea.

The Commodore had given a 12 hours furlough to the crew at Seoul the South-Korean capital. The city’s brothels were filled with horny sailors. Dwight, Mike and Taylor had some drinks in a bar waiting for Chuck and Kyle who had left with some chicks. The two returned about midnight, reeking of cheap perfume, cigarettes and raw sex. Both were wearing a broad grin.

“Guys these brides were hot,” Chuck told excited how they had fucked the girls and later each other in front of the girls and again the girls. Taylor rolled his eyes up and looked at Mike in indignation.

Now the US carrier was on its way again. The untamed force of a typhoon was hammering the Korean Sea. Dark grey waves of 40 feet in height were propelled by the howling gusts of the storm and the heavy rain shrouded any sight.

The bad weather was no obstacle, however, for the steel colossus driven by elementary nuclear power that was plowing the whitecaps. Finally the giant passed the coastline of South Korea and entered the Korea Bay. Some 30 miles to the East was the hostile territory of the Northern dictator’s regime. Although the US navy behemoth was roaming on international waters, its approach had not gone unnoticed.

Unaffected by the weather coastal radar picked up the signals reflected from the aircraft carrier and triggered an alarm at the Red Guard missile silo at the town of Ongjin.

“…and there is no support fleet?” Major Koh the silo Commander couldn’t believe it. An US aircraft carrier without the shield of smaller warships, tankers and other support ships was an exceptional event. It could not mean any good, but it was rather foolish carelessness by the Americans to present themselves so vulnerable.

The Commander knew that he had to act quickly, while the vessel was in close range, an easy target for the latest generation of land-sea missiles that had been developed by North-Korean scientists.

“Initiate launch sequence!” Koh bellowed. Sinking an US Aircraft carrier would open him the highest ranks within the Red Guards.

“Sir?” Captain Gui-Lang his second in command looked at his superior in disbelieve.

“You heard the order Captain,” Koh’s eyes narrowed.

“But Sir, this is a blunt act of war. The Americans …,” Gui-Lang stammered.

“This enemy ship is violating North-Korean territory,” the Commander interrupted.

“Sir they are clear 30 miles off …” the Captain checked again his radar readings.

“Captain you are at the brink of mutiny! The enemy sails in our territory and he prepares to attack. It is our patriotic duty to defend the homeland, before any harm can come to it. Launch!” the Commander’s hand traveled down to his pistol holster.

“Yes Sir!” Gui-Lang went pale. He pushed a key into the command console and was joined by his superior officer who added his key without hesitation.

“Launch sequence initiated!” Gui-Lang pushed a button. Outside, the steel-enforced concrete launch gates started to slide open.

Deep inside the armored hull of the USS Vincent Mancroft the high-performance computer was working regardless of weather or of nighttime. It monitored the ships heading as well as its movements in the churning waves. The artificial intelligence was evaluating the data gathered from the ships surroundings by the sophisticated radar and sonar equipment. The impact of incoming waves was analyzed and balance tanks integrated inside the hull emptied and refilled accordingly. The activities in the silo were instantly classified as hostile. Automated counter measure systems were activated. Alarms were sounding on the bridge

“5-4-3-2-1-0 … launch!” Gui-Lang counted down. The missile’s engines flared and pushed it with increasing speed from the silo into the rainy night.

The warship’s computer reacted by launching a patriot missile as Commodore Mulroney entered the bridge. One minute later a bright ball of orange fire flared up high in the sky when the patriot detonated the North-Korean missile with a roaring explosion.

“Do you know from where the fucker came?” Mulroney asked his gunner.

“On-shore missile silo 2 miles inwards. Target acquired,” the gunner replied.

“Cruise Missile battery, return fire!” the Commodore ordered with an icy voice.

“Cruise Missiles one and two, launching,” the gunner confirmed although he raised his eyebrows at the harsh response.

“Let’s teach these Communist gooks a lesson in respect,” Mulroney was lighting a cigar while the two missiles were launching.

“What happened?” Commander Koh asked when the signal of his missile disappeared from the radar screen.

“We lost our missile,” Gui-Lang responded with a stony face,”… and the enemy is retaliating.”

“What? How dare they …”, the last words of Commander Koh were cut off by the two Cruise Missiles which had precisely entered the still open launch gates detonating inside his silo.

“Target neutralized,” the gunner reported in a business-like manner.

“Let’s go back to sleep then, gentlemen,” the Commodore grinned and turned to leave the bridge,” Nice shooting, gunny!”

Far to the north the morning sun didn’t manage to penetrate the heavy clouds leaving the temple of the Dark Moon in dim twilight.

In the research center below the temple Kim and Dr. Takashima watched the sweat glistening bodies writhing on the bike-like shaped semen extractors. Seven men were drained of their man seed side by side. The initial curses and angry grunts had been replaced by ecstatic moaning and helpless yelping, while the men were stimulated to release their cum to the last drop.

“Master Huang has chosen this shipment well,” Dr. Takashima said gleefully. This time a whole construction crew had been caught and dispatched to the temple.

“This one and his brother are former Marines,” Kim pointed at the muscle-packed, approximately 30 years old hunk whose wavy brown hair hang tussled into the lust contorted face and another stud of same age with short cut bristly, pitch-black hair, less tall but well-muscled with a tapered waist.

“They refused to join a mission to free Captain Durango. Master Huang was right. They are of good use for our project,” Kim chuckled.

Dr. Takashima sipped from his tea. The bigger stud produced incredulous amounts of semen. He adjusted the controls of the extractor in order to keep the stimulations of the hunk at a maximum level.

“The Americans are coming,” Kim remarked casually, ”quite big.”

“Yes Colonel, I did read the mail,” the Japanese smiled, ”it will be a most welcome boost to our project.”

“Others would be concerned about a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier closing in,” Kim smiled back.

“I leave the ship to you and your men Colonel,” Dr. Takashima replied, ”I am only interested in my research.”

“You think we can handle the entire crew? They are about 6.000, as you are certainly aware.” Kim said, watching with interest the convulsing bodies.

“Our spy tells that there is just a minimal crew of 400. Well, I have it already evaluated that by our computers,” Dr. Takashima said,” Let’s assume they have about 10% female staff, which is absolutely useless for our purpose, we could extract from the male crew of this vessel about 875 emissions per day, equal to 4.2-4.8 liters of semen. Even if we have to dispose of 60% as oversaturated with protein, it leaves a worthy essence of about 3.5 liters every day.”

“That should be sufficient to develop biotech weapons to take the whole United States,” Kim’s dark eyes were glowing as the seven men dropped one by one limp on their saddles.

“That - Colonel,” Dr. Takashima replied,” is sufficient to take the world.”

The USS Vincent Mancroft anchored about 5 miles off the coast. The Commodore had gathered his officers on the bridge for a final briefing. Dwight, Mike, Chuck, Taylor and Lee had been graciously admitted as well.

“To make it clear again, you and your men stay out of this operation,” Mulroney glared at Dwight. “This is a navy operation and we do it the Navy way. Lieutenant O’Leary?”

“Yes Sir,” the Seal leader replied.

“Your men will lead the attack.” The Commodore continued.

The squad would approach the coast by underwater scooters, cross the beach and launch a direct assault on the temple. They would free the captives and tag the buildings electronically so that a subsequent missile attack would find their way straight into the targets, without hitting the nearby village of Suyang-Dong.

“As soon as we have your confirmation, we will hit them with our Cruise Missiles and Tomahawks. Make sure you and the freed boys are in a safe distance by then. We pick you up with our landing boats as soon as the air strike is over.”

Taylor was the last one to leave the bridge. He was relieved that the Seals would do the dirty work and spare his brother the risk. Mike would be safe as well. Taylor grinned when he thought about his secret relationship to the young Marine. One day he would have to tell his brother about it and he was quite sure Kyle would take it rather jealous.

“Gotta minute?” lost in his thoughts he was rudely returned to reality when his arm was seized with a strong grip. Looking up he flinched back recognizing the towering frame of the Seal leader.

“What do you want?” Taylor writhed in the painful grip, ”Lemme go!”

To his astonishment Cliff softened his hold.

“Listen, before we leave on that mission, I … uhm …wanted to apologize,” the Seal said in a lowered voice.

Taylor was stunned. He and Mike had played Cliff and his friend Craig badly. He had since avoided the Seals as he was sure they were pondering revenge.

“No problem man,” Taylor stuttered.

“I was a jerk,” Cliff said,” I … I want to make it up to you.”

“What do you mean?” Taylor asked bewildered.

“Can we go to a more…uhm…private place?” Cliff looked pleadingly.

“I-I dunno…I don’t understand…” Taylor had no clue what to make out the Seal’s proposal. Was he hitting on him?

Cliff looked around. There was no one in the aisle.

“In Seoul I was with this whore and I just felt I need something different,” He pulled Taylor to himself and Taylor found himself passionately kissed.

“Please?” Cliff asked.

“S-sure,” Taylor was gasping. The testosterone emitted by the muscular hunk was overwhelming. Half dragged he stumbled behind the Seal Lieutenant along the aisles and a few stairs up and down until he was completely lost.

Finally Cliff opened a steel door and pulled Taylor inside a small cabin. There was not even space for a bunk bed and no porthole. It was sticky inside. Even the aircon didn’t seem to work. The hunky Seal embraced him again and Taylor inhaled his musky man’s odor. He wanted to kiss the stud again but was pushed back.

“What are you waiting for?” Cliff unbuttoned his shirt,” I am soldier bound for a mission. No time for foreplay…”

“Ok man,” Taylor pulled his T-Shirt over his head, kicked his shoes off and stripped from his pants. His boner throbbed in front of his lean frame. Naked he looked back at Cliff and found him fully dressed.

While Taylor was still confused the Seal fetched his clothes. When Taylor realized what was happening it was already too late. Cliff had left the cabin and the steel door shut with a sharp thud.

“Hey! Man let me outta here!” Taylor hammered at the door with his fists.

“You stay put faggot.” Cliff sneered,” I have waited for this. Nobody will find you here until I am back and then you will pay dearly for what you have done.”

“No! You can’t do that! Please! Let me out! Help…help anybody,” Taylor yelled in panic, but there was no reply. Cliff had left him.

“Shit! How could I fall for that?” Taylor cursed himself. Doomed to wait he sank down on the steel floor and wrapped the arms around his naked knees.

The Commodore inspected the Seal squad. The 65 men stood at attention carrying their fins under the elbows. The tight wetsuits, black shorties made of Titanium neoprene, displayed every detail of their chiseled muscles. Black hoods with integrated communication equipment of the same Titanium neoprene covered the heads. The masks were pushed up to the foreheads. Following their very own macho codex the Seals were not wearing any underwear under the wetsuits. Dwight noticed the impressive bulges of the outline of the cocks rising from the crotches. It was amazing, Dwight grinned to himself, how quickly these baby makers had recharged after the thorough workout during the night before in the brothels of Seoul.

Instead of bulky tanks the combat divers would use a newly developed tankless breathing technology consisting of a mouthpiece and two small pressure containers, providing air for about 30 minutes. More than enough to reach the beach. Long knives were stored in sheaths fixed to the legs by Velcro wraps.  The feet were clothed by black wetsocks.

“You will teach these bastards a lesson they won’t ever forget,” Commodore Mulroney said while puffing on his cigar. “Get our boys out and we will blow the fuckin’ temple to hell!”

“Yes Sir!!!” the Seals shouted back.

“Good luck, mate!” Craig gave Cliff a short hug. He was in a foul mood because he had to stay back and monitor the mission from the bridge.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to have the time of my life,” Cliff gave his friend a thumbs up and followed his men down to a bulkhead in the lower section of the carrier. The squad gathered on a small platform attached to the hull. Although the storm had subsided the sea was still rough. One by one the Seals disappeared in the waves, each towed by a scooter heading towards the coast. It was 3 AM; the operation had begun.

Back on the bridge Craig watched the radar screen. 65 green dots were fast moving away from the carrier. Every man had a life sensor built-in his suit that transmitted a signal back to the radar receiver.

“Seal 1 to Alpha Command - over,” Cliff’s voice sounded from the overhead speakers.

“Alpha Command to Seal 1, we hear you loud and clear,” Craig answered.” You are doing fine. There are only a few fishing boats close to the beach. Nothing to worry about. No movements on the beach – over.”

Abbott Gao-Ban, Colonel Kim and Dr. Takashima were having an early breakfast at a small table above the beach line. They watched the fishing boats cruising.

“This dish is superb, ” Dr. Takashima’s voice was full of praise.

“Red baby octopus,” Kim replied,” I thought it fits the occasion. Our fishers catch a lot of squids these days.”

He looked at a small portable radar screen and saw the 65 dots approaching.

“Master Huang was very kind to provide us the enemy’s radar and radio frequencies,” Kim grinned while he directed the fishing boats over the approaching Seal squad.

The Seals were about 150 feet away from the shore when it happened.

Buckets of octopus ink were emptied into the shallow sea. The water along the shore turned black and the Seals found themselves blinded as visibility was down to zero. The trained combat divers, however, reacted with professional coolness and relied on the sensors built into their watch bands. Unperturbed by the changed conditions they closed in on the beach.

Squid ink served as a natural smoke screen to deter predators. It contained as well secretions with disorientating substances. Their concentration was usually too low to have any effect on humans, now however, as the Seals were diving in the ink of hundreds of animals, the secretions were absorbed in substantial amounts by the skin on the naked legs.

Suddenly the combat divers felt it difficult to concentrate on the wrist sensors. Some lost their direction and their black rubber hooded heads emerged on the surface and found themselves amidst the fishing boats.

Shouts went from boat to boat and the fishers started throwing nets into the sea. Unlike the ordinary polyester nets these nets were made of titanium steel twines.

“What the fuck is that?” Craig shouted when light-green blotches appeared on the radar screen that engulfed the smaller dots identifying the Seals.

The nets weighed heavy on the divers’ shoulders pulling them under the surface. Knives that were quickly unsheathed from the leg wraps found it hard to cut the super-strong twines. As soon as the fishers sensed that a prey was struggling in the net they started the engines and towed the hapless kicking Seal behind. The trapped men had no choice but to abandon their scooters. The boats drove in curves and circles entwining the nets even tighter around the struggling divers, who were soon only able to flap feebly with their fins while their arms were tethered taunt to their bodies.

“It looks like a tuna hunt,” Dr. Takashima laughed, overlooking the disaster.

“Big white tuna, indeed,” Kim laughed as well.

Curses and cries for help sounded from the overhead speakers on the carrier’s bridge.

“What is going on?” Commodore Mulroney asked.

“I don’t know Sir, but it does not sound good,” Craig replied.

“Alpha Command to Seal 1 – what is going on? Are you in trouble? – over,” Craig bellowed, but there was no answer. Craig fetched a pair of night vision binoculars and rushed to the wide windows. The digital enhanced binoculars displayed a horrific scene.

The limited reserves of air had sealed the combat divers’ fate. The struggle in the nets subsided as the men ran out of oxygen. One by one the limp bodies were hauled out of the water. Those who were still conscious were quickly silenced by a blow to the back of the head.

Fishermen who were not busy hauling in the prey were stripping the men from their equipment, wetsuits, wetsocks and fins. The boats were quickly filling with naked bodies, while the equipment was discarded into the sea. One by one the life signals disappeared from the radar screen.

“No, no, no, no!” Craig howled in helpless fury, but there was nothing he could do.

“I will supervise the transport to the temple,” Gao-Ban rose and motioned Eng-Lok to follow him down to the beach.

“Our pious Abbott is developing a kind of liking for young muscular men,” Kim smiled.

“We should respect an old man’s desire, don’t you think?” the Japanese smiled back.

“Yes, of course,” Kim replied, ”that is why we have left one big fish entirely for him.”

Lieutenant Cliff O'Leary was fighting like mad. He had scarcely escaped by directing his scooter straight into the closing net. As he was ahead of his men he was closer to the beach and lesser exposed to the disorientating squid ink. But the struggling had depleted his oxygen supply as well. He had to abandon all his equipment and kept only the large knife in his leg sheath. Gasping and mustering all the force of his powerful arms and legs he finally reached the dark beach. Behind him he heard the sounds of his men’s desperate fight. He couldn’t believe it. A bunch of fishermen had taken out his entire squad.

“Son of a bitch! Cliff made it!” Craig shouted excited. He had discovered his buddy on the beach.

Still heavily breathing he took off his fins and the mask. He replaced his hood with a black baklava. Now he needed some cover. Carefully avoiding any noises he crossed the beach with cat-like moves on his wetsocks, knowing that the jungle was not far away.

When he heard voices ahead, the combat diver threw himself down and took cover behind a boulder. Flash lights appeared and he watched a group of Asians led by a small elderly monk dressed in red and yellow robes walking down the beach.

The first boats arrived and Cliff watched in shock the mass of naked bodies. His men were carried on to the beach by wrists and ankles, heads dangling. After they were hogtied and gagged the Seals were thrown onto the back of a nearby pick-up truck like slaughtered cattle.

“Damn’ you, bloody fuckers!” the Lieutenant grunted through clenched teeth. The monk turned his head towards him. His eyes seemed to cut through the darkness, impaling the crouched Seal like a helpless insect in a museum. Cliff ducked even more. The warm air made him sweat in his wetsuit.

“Oh shit!” Craig cursed helplessly clenching the binoculars.

Cliff froze when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Glancing back he looked into the smiling face of another monk dressed in grey cotton clothes. Cliff rose slowly and was caught by the flash lights. He knew it was over. When the monk touched his arm he sighed and walked towards the Asians.

The small monk in the colorful robes smiled at him and bowed slightly. Cliff did not move.

“Cliff O’Leary, Lieutenant US Navy Seals,” he rasped mechanically.

The monk in the cotton clothes spoke in a foreign language to the older monk who nodded and replied.

“You are leader? The younger monk asked.

“Cliff O’Leary, Lieutenant US Navy Seals,” Cliff repeated.

The older monk said something and the younger monk pointed at the pick-up truck hinting that Cliff should undress.

“Never!” the Seal drew his knife, bent his knees and took a fighting stance willing to rather die, than to be stripped like his squad.

He expected an overall assault by the Asians who surrounded him in a wide circle. But then he found himself face to face with the small monk who was apparently a kind of superior.

“Gao-Ban,” the monk laid a hand against his chest. He bowed again and waited.

“Yeah Cliff, get the fucker,” Craig said watching through the binoculars.

Cliff sneered. Well – if they thought that he would spare the midget, they were damned wrong. Maybe, if he cut the monk down, there would be enough confusion to escape. He started to circle the monk, who did not move. It was likely that the monk was trained in martial arts, but so was the combat diver. He was younger and stronger. When Cliff charged, he was confident to run the monk down by his sheer body mass.

To his surprise he missed and almost tumbled in the sand. The monk had just side-stepped him and now he turned his back on Cliff, who quickly he turned and charged again. However, the strain of his escape in the sea and the soft sand under his feet slowed him down. This time the monk did not dodge. He seized the wrist of the bigger man and used the momentum of the attack. Cliff landed flat on his back. The air was driven from his lungs. The monk dug his finger precisely into special acupressure points on his arm, making the muscle stud scream in pain. The knife was wrenched from his numbed hand. Nevertheless, after a moment of shock the Seal rolled around and was back on his feet in an instant.

Gao-Ban nodded and motioned him to attack again. That did it. Loosing his calm, Cliff opened his arms wide and jumped wildly on the small figure. This time his baklava was ripped from his head and he landed with his red, sweaty face in the sand.

The grin on the faces of the surrounding Asians was maddening. When Cliff charged again, his ankles were caught in a leg scissors and he landed again face-down on the beach. Before he was able to get up, one of his wetsocks was stripped off. Laughter burst from the onlookers.

Cliff’s furious punch was blocked and gone was his wrist band with the sensors and his diving instruments.

“Fuck!” he cursed, now realizing that the monk was up to strip him during the fight. He tried a roundhouse kick, but the monk caught his leg and stripped him from his other wetsock. Gao-Ban smiled broadly at the barefooted Seal, who was huffing and sweating profoundly.

The Grand-Master knew he had won. He let the desperately charging American pass again and before he could turn, he jumped on his back and hammered the ridges of his hands into both sides of the strong neck, cutting the blood supply for the brain.

“Unnggh…,” Cliff’s legs buckled. He tried a few wobbly steps until the increasing dizziness forced him down on his knees. Gao-Ban was already behind him. He seized the leash of the zipper on his back. He pulled, but he pulled purposefully slow, wanting the Seal feel how the firm hug of the skintight suit loosened gradually, while the slider rode down from tooth to tooth and zipped the wetsuit open.

“Nnooo!” Cliff shouted as he felt more and more of his back exposed to the humid warm air, but as if mesmerized he let his hunky torso popping like a ripe fruit from the dehiscing backside of the wetsuit. Finally the slider reached the lowest point and Gao-Ban had a clear view into the cleft separating the two firm butt cheeks.

“Fuck!” Cliff shouted again when the wetsuit was stripped over the broad shoulders trapping his arms on both sides of his body.  The colorful tattoos on his back and across the sculpted chest were glistening on the sweaty skin.

Down on his knees, the Seal was now on eye level with the monk. He was weakly struggling to strip the suit from his arms, when Gao-Ban surprised him by embracing him. Shocked he felt the monk’s tongue sickeningly invading his mouth.

“Nnnoooo..mmmfff,” There was an odd taste. Enraged he struggled against the humiliation of being kissed by another man in front of the sneering crowd. Wildly he flinched back in disgust and lost his balance. Without breaking the kiss the monk pushed him on his back and the Asians chuckled when they watched the big white man wriggling under the small Asian, legs kicking in the air.

“Oh fuck…w-what is happening?” With his arms still trapped the big Seal succumbed to a strange weakness that was spreading throughout his body. To his horror he felt himself responding to the kiss. A hot wave of arousal flushed through his body.

“Uhh yeahhh…” The fingers of the monk were now playing with is exposed nipples. The stimulations of his man tits and by the kiss triggered a familiar stirring in his loins.

“Oh shit! What?” With an amazing power Gao-Ban pulled the moaning man back on his knees. The hunk didn’t resist anymore, while the wetsuit was finally peeled from his muscular body. His semi-erect cock and a pair of impressive hefty nuts fell into the open when the suit was pulled down to his thighs.

He received a hard push in the center of his tattooed back and fell face-down on the sandy beach.

“N-noompff…pfff” he protested feebly, spitting sand from his mouth. The wetsuit was pulled along his legs and finally stripped over his feet. The last life signal disappeared from the radar screen.

The onlookers were applauding as the chiseled body of the Seal leader was put on display in all his buff glory. He had not only been thrashed by the midget. His smaller opponent had humiliated him by systematically stripping him bare.

Cliff lay flat on the beach burying his face in the sand out of both shame and exhaustion. He tried to focus to calm down, but since the enforced kiss something was working inside of him, turning him on, making him horny as hell. His groin was on fire. His dick twitched under his belly.

He froze when his buttocks were spread. Something was prodding at his ass. Painfully he managed to raise his head and to look back over his shoulder.

The midget had one of his naked feet buried in his ass cleft and his toe was poking at his sphincter.

“No! Fuck you!,” Cliff yelled when he realized, what the monk was trying to do. However the ongoing prodding got to him and he felt an increasing urge to just lay down and relax his puckered hole. It took him tremendous effort to get up on all fours, still fending of the probing toe. The laughter of the crowd was in his ears. And then he was back up standing, facing his opponent.

The stripped Seal was sweating, large parts of his shaking body were sand-crusted and to his shame and embarrassment he was throwing a fucking boner. The small monk grinned and motioned him to attack again. Agonizingly slow Cliff managed to raise his fists. Through his blurred vision he saw the monk jumping high in the air. One instant later the heel of the little Asian’s foot connected with his chin. The big body was spinning, arms were flailing and then he fell like a chopped tree again on his face.

“Oh my God,” Craig sighed in despair watching his mate going down.

Driven by instinct the drowsy combat diver tried desperately to crawl away, heading back to the water like a fish on dry land seeking shelter in the element he had been trained to fight in. The monk followed him for a few feet. Then he seized one foot and dragged the writhing man back into the circle of the onlookers.

“Nooooo!” the Seal screamed, clawing in vain for a hold in the soft sand. Sand and pebbles were scratching Cliff’s chest, his belly and his dick, while he was dragged on. Almost passed out he felt that the leg sheath was removed from his calf.

Gao-Ban rolled the naked Seal on his back revealing his sand-crusted genitals. The onlookers moved closer, when the Grand-Master closed his hand around the sandy shaft to start the final humiliation.

In petrifying embarrassment Cliff realized he was jacked off in front of the sneering crowd. He knew something was wrong by being turned on by a man, but he couldn’t fight it.

“No, please not this…” he begged meekly. The kiss had conquered him and the strange weakness was lingering on his mind keeping him mellow and helpless.

“Uhh fuck…huh!” he gasped when his throbbing shaft sprang again to full hardness in the skilled hands of the Grand-Master. Gao-Ban smiled when a drop of the big man’s essence appeared in the piss slit while he was pumping the twitching rod and simultaneously fondled the plum-sized balls. This stud would make Dr. Takashima very happy.

“Uuuurgh …ahhh…fuck!” Cliff groaned. His sensitive shaft was sliding through the sand-crusted fingers. His back arched and his naked buttocks were grinding in the sand.

Knowing that the younger man was ready, Gao-Ban circled the throbbing man pole with his thumb and index finger and held it firmly at the base. The palm of his hand hit flat against the swollen balls.

“Aaarghh!” Cliff howled, when a stream of hot cum spurted high in the air, splashing back on his taut sand-covered abs.

“Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh! Huuuhh…” each gush was accompanied by an ecstatic moan until the flood subsided. Cliff’s man-juice was oozing over Gao-Ban’s hands and covered the sand-crusted nut sac. Some drops of his cum were dribbling from his chin as the Abbott had aimed one of the spurts right into his face. The hollering Seal tasted his own seed as another spurt had been skillfully directed into his gaping mouth.

The young monk in cotton clothes helped the exhausted jock into a sitting position. With spread thighs he looked up at the small elderly monk who had bested him. Gao-Ban nodded with a friendly smile rubbing his fingers clean in Cliff’s baklava.

“I don’t know, how you did me, man, but I hate you and I swear I will kill you for that,” Cliff rasped.

The blow to the back of his head finished him. Gao-Ban ripped the dog tags from the prone body and told Eng-Lok in a low voice:

“Bring this one to my rooms, he is quite entertaining.”

“Yes Grand-Master, as you wish,” Eng-Lok nodded while he was gagging the unconscious stud with a shredded piece of his cum-soiled baklava. The Lieutenant was grabbed by his wrists and ankles and ended hogtied on the pick-up on top of his men easily identifiable by his sand-crusted buttocks.

Slowly Craig turned around to face the Commodore. His face was white.

“They are gone?! What do you mean, soldier?” Commodore Mulroney’s face had turned scarlet.

“They are fuckin’ gone, we have been fucked by the gooks...I...I don’t know how…,” Craig stammered still stunned by what he had just witnessed.

“I am not losing an entire elite squad to a fuckin’ bunch of monks and fishermen!” the Commodore ranted.

“We could send in a bigger force and …,” Craig muttered.

“… and get fucked again?” Mulroney snapped.

The news of the disaster spread fast across the carrier. Dwight, Lee, Kyle, Chuck and Mike rushed to the bridge.

“Where the fuck is Taylor? Dwight asked.

“No idea,” Kyle answered, ”I thought he was with you.” He looked at Mike.

“Nope,” Mike shook his head.

“That is not good.” Dwight frowned at Kyle,” you have better control your brother, it is already difficult enough with the Commodore.”

Already they heard Mulroney shouting from the distance.

“Controlling my brother?” Kyle muttered incredulously, “you must be kiddin’…”

“Batteries prepare for launch,” Mulroney just ordered when they arrived on the bridge.

“Sir?,” the gunner officer asked.

“You heard my order!” the Commodore bellowed.

“But …,” Craig started.

“What?!” Mulroney glared at him.

“Sir, with all due respect, there are still hostages in the temple,” Dwight intervened.

“Fuck the hostages!” the Commodore fumed, ”right now as we are speaking my men are piled buck-naked and hog-tied like slaughter cattle on a truck heading for that fuckin’ temple. I am not going to sit here playing idly with my balls to have ‘em added to your hostages.”

“Batteries initiate launch sequence!” he ordered again, ”we blow that fuckin’ temple to hell before that truck arrives.”

“But Sir!” Dwight objected.

“One more word and I have you court marshaled for mutiny,” the Commodore said coldly.

“Batteries ready for launch, target acquired,” the gunner reported.

“Batteries 1 thru 5 – launch!” Mulroney commanded.

“Launch sequence initiated, launch in 5-4-3-2-1-0,” the gunner counted down.

Five Cruise Missiles left their launch pods and carried their deadly loads towards the coast.

Alarms sounded throughout the temples underground facilities.

“Missile launch detected,” a computer specialist yelled. The temple’s data center had been upgraded by Dr. Takashima’s assistance to a high-performance artificial intelligence computer system that could rival with the USS Vincent Mancroft’s equipment.

Now this artificial intelligence calculated the heading of the approaching missiles. The Cruise Missiles were fast but for the artificial intelligence they moved at a snail’s pace.

Silent commands were transmitted to the TCUs that Colonel Kim had stolen from Camp Tango. High above the temple at the mountain slope loopholes opened. Red laser beams pierced the darkness of the rainy night and hit the incoming missiles.

“Targets acquired!” the specialist cheered, ”Counter measures launched.”

A swarm of small torpedo-like missiles launched and headed towards the Cruise Missiles.

“Sir, there is something on the radar…” the gunner said startled.

Five glaring explosions illuminated the sky high above the temple.

“They have taken down our missiles,” Craig said in disbelieve.

“W-what? How, how is that possible?” for the first time the Commodore showed signs of shock.

“The TCUs,” Dwight said quietly.

“It must have been the TCUs,” the gunner agreed, ”they are using our own equipment against us.”

“But.. that…that is outrageous,” Mulroney ranted. “How can they, how dare they?”

“Sir, please,” Dwight tried again.” Let us get back to our initial plan. My men and I could enter the temple in a stealth operation. We would tag the target and then our missiles could go straight for the target. The TCUs wouldn’t have time to react … and we could evacuate our men.”

“Bullshit!” Mulroney grunted.

“Sir, he has a point,” the gunner dared to speak up,” if there are electronic tags at the target, I can direct the missiles manually on an erratic course. We can beat the fuckin’ TCUs.”

“Bullshit,” the Commodore repeated. He looked at Dwight and his friends.

“If you fail I will launch a full attack with our jets. Good luck boys!” he said grimly.

“Sir, thank you Sir,” Dwight replied, ”We won’t fail you, Sir!”

The four Rolls-Royce Allison AE2100 turboprops with the six-bladed composite scimitar propellers lifted the C-130 J Hercules aircraft from the flight deck. Soaring into the dark sky the bulky aircraft was shaking in the heavy gusts in the aftermath of the typhoon.

Dwight and his squad were dressed in full gear. Kevlar helmets with integrated radio equipment. Live sign sensors monitoring their bodily functions and transmitting them back to the carrier. Automatic handguns, grenades, combat knives completed the equipment.

Their camouflage-painted faces were tense as the friends focused on the mission. Kyle was highly concerned. They hadn’t managed to find Taylor and although his brother wouldn’t have been part of the squad, Kyle would have loved to give him a final hug before putting his ass on the line.

“There is something fuckin’ wrong… ,” Kyle rose from the bench and started walking up and down the aisle. The plane had now reached full altitude and was rapidly approaching the Nine Moon Mountains. Occasional lightning was illuminating the rocky slopes in an eerie bluish light.

“Sit down man, “ Chuck grunted,” you are making me nervous. The truth was, that Chuck was horned up as hell. His heavy cock was fully aroused from the excitement of the danger ahead. The crossed straps of his parachute were caressing his erection and the constant trembling of the aircraft emanating from the powerful engines stimulated him even further.

A red light was glowing and a buzzer sounded to tell the men that the jump was imminent. The big hatch opened.

“Shit! Get your ass on the bench,” Dwight shouted at Kyle.

Suddenly disaster stroke: A lightning hit the metal body of the aircraft, momentarily disabling all electronic devices. The pilots tried feverishly to reboot the systems, while the plane was drifting off course.

When the Hercules reared in the grip of a powerful gust, Kyle’s 240 lbs. body was lifted. He still struggled for balance when a second blow hit the aircraft. His head was smashed against the metal ridge of the hatch. The friends watched in horror as he was sucked out into the open air limp as a rag doll.

“Noooo!” Dwight shouted. But the only one who reacted was Chuck. Without hesitation he jumped head-on after his friend.

Kyle’s slack body was sailing in the wind hardly visible in the darkness. Chuck straightened his body and aimed desperately at his friend. He was shooting like a torpedo through the gusty winds.

Above them one by one the squad members were stepping out of the plane that was struggling against the weather conditions. The mission was in havoc. They were far away from their destination and to make matters worse, they had been discovered by enemy radar and took fire from flak canons that were positioned in the forest below the temple.

Mike and the two pilots were the last ones to step out from the tumbling plane.

“Noooo!” Craig screamed on the carrier’s bridge when the Hercules vanished from the radar screen. Seconds later a bright fireball signaled the crash near the beach.

“Yes! Oh my God I got you!” Chuck shouted as he managed to grab one of Kyle’s legs. Slowly and with the power of all his muscles he virtually crawled up his friend’s body.

Kyle was stirring slightly but still semi-conscious and oblivious to the dangerous situation. Then Chuck was face to face with him. He hugged the other Marine firmly in a close embrace.

“Hang on buddy,” Chuck shouted and pulled the rip-cord.

The parachute unfolded but the descent was by far too fast. The weight of the two heavy men pulled them down with accelerated speed. Unable to get to Kyle’s rip-cord and to unfold the second chute, Chuck threw away his handgun and the package of heavy equipment. He didn’t know, if this would help, but at least there was less ballast pulling them down.

Then the tree tops appeared.

“Woooooowww!” Chuck howled.

The two friends were hanging embraced on each other for dear life. The branches hit hard into their faces, ripping off the helmets and cutting into exposed flesh. Within parts of seconds they had breached the canopy of the pine trees. The parachute got entangled and Chuck thought his back would break when the fall was abruptly stopped.

“Aaaargh!” he yelled in pain. The crossed straps were cutting into his groin. For a few seconds the two men were bouncing up and down, hanging from cracking branches. Then the chute ripped apart. Both Marines fell again into the darkness of the forest. Briars were shredding their clothes. Chuck heard a loud thud and realized it was his own body slamming into the muddy soil and then his world went dark.

Meanwhile pushed by the strong gusts Mike and the two pilots were driven far off the intended target zone. The three men had no choice but to land in a clearing somewhere in the coastal jungle.

Dwight and Lee were the only ones who made it close to the temple. They landed actually as planned in the anticline below the dark buildings.

“Ohhh! Shit!” When Kyle came around, his body felt as if he had been run over by a tank. He grimaced. Slowly he got up on his elbows and looked around. The sunlight was dimmed by the dense cover of the pine trees. A few feet away he recognized Chuck’s body. The Lance Corporal lay motionless on his side. His uniform was shredded and the black T-Shirt hung more or less in pieces from the muscular torso.

Kyle registered that his gear was gone as well and that his clothes were in no better condition. Slowly he remembered being tossed against the hatch and then he had been falling until Chuck …

“My God Chuck! Aaaarghhhhh!” Kyle shot up only to collapse in a moaning heap holding his sprained ankle. There was a nasty scratch on his left calf and the leg of the camo pants was torn.

Moaning in pain he crawled towards his friend. Chuck’s eyes were closed; however, he looked peaceful as if asleep.

“Chuck! Wake up!” Kyle was shaking the Marine.

“Uhm…Wh-what has happ…” coughing and gasping Chuck blinked his eyes.

“Oh you are alive. Man I am so happy,” Kyle was blubbering in happy exaltation.

Chuck looked at his friend with a smile on his face making Kyle interrupt his babbling.

“What?” Chuck asked.

“You saved my life, Bro,” Kyle said,” I will never forget that!”

“Sure, your ass is mine, I knew that already, Baby,” Chuck grinned.

“You asshole!” Kyle threw his heavy body on top of his friend and kissed him passionately. Strong hands ripped the shredded remains of the T-Shirts from the chiseled torsos and soon the trousers had been pushed down to the ankles.

“Ohhh! FFfuuck! Maaaan! Yeahhhh!” the two big entangled bodies rolled in the mud accompanied by the sounds of raunchy man sex.

“Oh shit my leg! ….Too late to beg for mercy now, hehe…Fucker that’s not fair! … Shut up and spread ‘em, baby … “. The two passionately love-making hunks were not aware that they had an audience.

Early before dawn Kua’i and Chul-Ba had left their parents’ farmhouse at Suyang-Dong to collect wood for their mother’s hearth.

“I wish the monks would send us one of the big white men, to do this boring job,” Chul-Ba was grumbling.

Kua’i looked at his elder brother. Chul-Ba was 19 years old. He stood 5’ 11’’ tall and weighed 197 lbs. He had dark eyes and a snub nose. Usually he was wearing a friendly smile on his broad face, but at the moment he was in a sullen mood as always when they had to get up early. The stocky Asian had his head shaved bald. He was wearing black cotton pants and a sleeveless red colored vest of the same material.

Kua’i was entirely different from his brother. He had just turned 18 and was rather shy. He was 5’ 8’’ tall, lanky built weighing 140 lbs. His black hair tamed by a pony tail. Kua’i was dressed in grey cotton clothes. With his bigger brother in common he had his dark eyes. The long lashes and the usually melancholic look gave him a rather soft expression. The other boys in the village often made jokes about him, at least when Chul-Ba was not around.

Kua’i understood what his brother meant. Since recently the temple had started to provide workers to the poor villagers. At first the farmers were afraid of the muscular white men, who didn’t speak their language. But then they had realized that they were good-natured, almost boyish handsome and very docile. They arrived in the wee hours of the morning and returned back to the temple after a hard day’s work in the fields or in the farmhouses. Unfortunately their number was limited, although Gao-Ban the Abbott had told the village eldest that soon they would have helpers in abundance. Thus for the time being Kua’i and Chul-Ba had to continue their work on their own.

The brothers had walked far into the pine forest. The air was fresh after the night’s rain and the soil muddy. Suddenly Kua’i heard animal-like grunts from ahead.

“That’s a bear for sure,” the younger brother flinched.

His brother frowned and picked a solid club from the wood they had collected.

“No don’t go. It might kill you..” Kua’i tried to hold his brother back.

“Just stay behind me..,” Chul-Ba was too curious to let go now. Cautiously the brothers crept through the bushes towards the source of the strange sounds.

There were two big white men apparently fighting each other for dear life. Both were naked except from the trousers which were down to their ankles and their heavy leather boots. The men were sweating heavily. Each had managed to trap the opponent’s head between his thighs.

“They are killing each other,” Kua’i was watching the scene with an open mouth.

“I am not so sure about that,” Chul-Ba whispered with a grin spreading over his face.

“Everyone is saying, the men from the temple are nice and peaceful,” Kua’i whispered while one of the fighters managed to get behind his opponent,” those are not peaceful.”

“They are not from the temple. Look they are not wearing these skimpy black briefs,” Chul-Ba was adjusting his hardening cock,” … and they are pleasuring each other.”

“You mean they like it?” Kua’i watched as one man grimaced in obvious delight while the other drove his manhood in and out his ass.

“Of course they like it. You see it is even better than what we are doing, while Mom and Pa are asleep.” Chul-Ba crawled a bit further to get a better view.

“How would you know?” Kua’i was at his side in an instant.

“I am older than you and I know such things,” his brother bragged.

“Only one year and you know nothing,” Kua’i pouted.

Chul-Ba did not tell his brother about the visit of their cousin Ong-Ba from Pyongyang. The 24 year-old had seduced the naïve muscle-boy in the barn behind the farm-house. First it did hurt a lot but than Chul-Ba couldn’t get enough. Watching the heated bucking he pondered whether he could get new pleasures from the big white strangers.

With his dick fully embedded in Kyle’s tight ass, Chuck was lying heavily on his friend’s broad tattooed back. He was nibbling at Kyle’s earlobe, knowing that this drove his friend mad.

“Oh you -- you pay for th-thaaat…aaarghhh….,” Kyle groaned as his control slipped away.

“Oh really?” Chuck panted hoarsely in his ear. His hands traveled down and seized Kyle’s throbbing dick.

“You bastard!” Kyle hissed. Chuck’s thumb rubbed agonizingly soft over his sensitive penis head.

“Yeah, I am a fuckin’ bastard! And I am plowing you deep, Sarge. Do you like getting fucked by a lower rank?” Chuck mocked playfully. He thrust his hips forward ramming his rock-hard boner as deep inside of his buddy as it would go.

“Yes ..hard…fuck me hard man! Give it to me! Harder! More!” Kyle’s eyes rolled back  in their sockets in sheer delight. When he was with his brother he enjoyed the bottom role, being dominated by his smaller sibling.

Whenever he and Chuck made love, however, it never was sure who would end on top. Chuck’s wrestling skills and passionate addiction to sex made up for Kyle’s heavier and more muscular frame.

This time Chuck had won the top role. He knew that the nibbling at the earlobe combined with the steady milking of his cock would keep the bigger Marine weak. As soon as Kyle was instinctively responding to his thrusts by bucking his hips backwards, Chuck as well surrendered to his primal instincts. The surroundings blurred. Heavily sweating his flushed body hang on to his hunched friend. With closed eyes he sank his teeth into the meaty shoulder.

“Aaawwww!” Kyle yelled in ecstasy. Chuck was pumping him now with both hands. Again and again his aching balls connected with Kyle’s when he buried his shaft up to the hilt into his friend’s ass.

Kyle’s arms finally buckled, unable to bear the weight of the two bucking bodies any longer. His cheek dug into the soft soil below. Only his ass was pointing up receiving a relentless thrusting from his hollering mate.

“Ohhh Shit…oh ff-ffuuck..I..I amm cuummmminnnn’!” Chuck’s body convulsed. His bucking stopped abruptly while gushing his man juice up his friend’s chute. Still quivering in the grip of his climax he mechanically pumped the meaty shaft of the moaning man below.

“UUurghh…unngghh…Ahhhhh!” Kyle howled into the muddy soil, while his white cum spurted to the ground between his knees.

“Oh shit!” he heard Chuck’s startled voice. He felt his mate’s weight lifting and the hefty dick was pulled with a soft plopping sound from his stretched ass. Kyle slowly raised his head. Chuck was still halfway hunched over his body.

“W-what?” then he saw as well the two Asians who had emerged from the shrubs.

They were young. The bigger one with a bald head was wearing a bright red sleeveless vest over his well-developed torso. His impressive biceps were bulging. Although he was holding a wooden club he didn’t look menacing. The stocky lad was actually grinning and the bulge in the groin of his black pants told clearly what was on his mind.

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