Date: Tue, 18 Oct 2016 02:52:58 +0000 (UTC)
From: Aaron Deepneau <textripod@yahoo.com>
Subject: Little White Pills Chapter 16

Hi Guys, it's been a while, but I hope you like the latest installment.  If
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Chapter 16: "Our Men In Uniform"


"Sarge, are you awake?  Sarge?  Wake up!"  The harsh whispers finally
resolved into actual words, and Jakovski opened his eyes as he shook off
his confusion.  It slowly sank in that he'd been strung up, padded cuffs
around his wrists and ankles stretching his 250-pound frame taught.  He was
also stark naked.  As his vision came into focus he recognized PFC
Chesterton as the whisperer.  Like him the muscular Private was also naked,
but he had been tied to a chair facing Jakovski: arms bound behind him and
then to his ankles, which in turn were tied to the chair legs.  His broad
pecs strained as he struggled against the constraints; he wasn't as big as
the Sargent, but his well-muscled frame made it worth a try.  Whoever had
trussed him up knew what they were doing though, and after a futile
struggle he gave up, panting in frustration.

Jakovski tested his own bonds, but without much hope: they were far to
thick to snap, and were attached to a solid metal frame.  Even if he'd had
good leverage he doubted it would have helped.  Sure enough, he wasn't
going anywhere.  "I'm awake," he whispered back. "What the hell is going
on?"

"I dunno Sarge."  Dark eyebrows furrowed in concentration as Chesterton
chose his words.  "I remember we were in that little bar in old Havana, and
we were getting drinks with those chicks..."

"Shit.  I knew that was too good to be true.  We got roofied son."  The two
of them were actually both in their early twenties, but "son" felt like the
right thing for a leader to say.

Chesterton's handsome face showed confusion.  "But why?  I mean why not
just take our wallets or whatever and dump us somewhere?"

"An excellent question Private."  Two men had just entered the room.  The
speaker was a stocky blond man, young but with icy blue eyes.  His
chiseled, smooth-shaven features conveyed an air of command that both
Americans associated with officer material.  Both of them were dismayed to
see him wearing a Soviet army uniform.

The other man was physically the opposite of the Russian: short and
compact, with Hispanic features that contrasted with his partner's Slavic
looks.  He was clad in dark-green fatigues that were the standard garb of
the Cuban military.  The American marines exchanged a worried look.

"Our governments are very interested in certain pieces of information, and
it has come to our attention that the two of you can help us obtain it."
His Russian accent made Jakovski shiver--he'd heard stories about Soviet
interrogation methods, and had no desire to experience them firsthand.  No
sense letting the Private know his fears however.  He put some bravado in
his voice.

"I thought you boys were done slinking around with the Castros.  Shouldn't
you be back in Mother Russia _comrade_?"

"It is true we do not have as close a relationship as we once did, but we
still collaborate on certain strategic matters.  And access to your STAR
database is certainly one of them."  Jakovski kept his face a careful
blank, but he could see the shock on Chesterton's: the existence of STAR
was supposed to be classified, never mind who had the access codes.

"Well you're wasting your time buddy.  Those codes change all the
time--ours are already useless.  And none of has all the codes anyway."
Chesterton looked triumphant.

The Cuban leaned over from behind, speaking into the Private's ear while
looking up knowingly at the Sargent.  "Only partly true, amigo.  They do
change every two weeks--but yours were issued just two days ago, before you
went on leave.  No one knows you are missing, so we have plenty of time to
get your access codes.  And the other set that Sargent Jakovski has, of
course."  He left Chesterton to his shocked expression, then turned away to
start fiddling with the contents of a box he'd brought in.

"You may have heard," the Russian said, "certain unpleasant rumors
regarding our...questioning methods."  He began circling them slowly as he
talked, forcing them to turn their heads to watch him.  "I cannot speak
personally of these matters, but you will be happy to know that if all goes
well then you will have no personal experience of them either.  Thanks to
some innovative work from my Cuban colleagues we have much more effective,
and...pleasant means to learn what we want."

The Cuban officer looked over his shoulder.  "Don't thank me--it was you
Americans who developed this technology.  In fact, I believe a product very
much like this one may soon be available for sale in your country.  Lucky
for us we got our hands on this prototype some time ago."

"You are too modest comrade.  It was you who made it effective, as they
shall soon see."  The Russian had circled around to stand behind
Chesterton, where he smiled wolfishly over the bound man at Jakovski.

The Sargent sneered.  "It's gonna take more than hugs to get us to share
those codes you scum."

"Perhaps."  The Russian shrugged.  "We can always consider...traditional
methods if necessary.  But we have a very long time to try the new
techniques on you both."  He rested one hand on Chesterton's head and
looked down, considering.  "I think we'll find what we need in Private
Chesterton's head.  Sooner or later he'll realize it's in his own best
interest."  One finger slowly traced through the Private's thick black hair
and down the back of his neck, raising goosebumps.  "As will you."

He looked over his shoulder.  "Is ready?"

"Si.  The inst--the protocols were not clear."  The Cuban's brown face
flushed slightly in embarrassment.

"Good.  Begin with the Private."

Chesterton looked up at his Sargent, visibly struggling not to panic as the
Cuban knelt behind the chair.  Jakovski couldn't see what was happening,
but he appeared to be setting something up underneath it and attaching it
to the chair base. He turned cold as he realized that the seat webbing had
been partially cut away, leaving the Private's genitals exposed from below.
If the Cuban's apparatus involved some clips and a car battery this
interrogation was going to be ugly.  When Chesterton started cursing and
thrashing around he feared the worst, but the man didn't scream, or seem to
be in pain.  A minute later it was all over and the Cuban stood up, a
satisfied look on his face.

"Is done?" the Russian asked.

"Yes.  The remote will handle it how we like after the initial setup."  He
held up a small button-covered rectangle.  "Oh--one more thing."  He pulled
two small disks from the box, peeled off a backing, and stuck one to
Chesterton's chest and the other to the side of his forehead.  "The
sensors." He attached leads from the box to each and then looked down,
apparently satisfied with what he saw.  "Now we are ready."  He pressed the
remote and a short chime sounded from below the chair.

"Good.  We'll prepare the second unit.  Gentlemen, please do not go
anywhere."  He gave the Americans a wintry smile, and then the
interrogators left the room.

"Private, are you okay?"

The man in the chair gave a short laugh.  "You mean except for the fact
that I'm about to be interrogated until I give up the codes, and after that
they'll probably kill us?  And nobody even knows we're missing for the next
three days?"

"We'll figure out a way to break out Private, so don't go losing your head.
You gotta hang tough until we get rescued--you can do it if you keep your
cool.  Now, did they hurt you at all?"

"No."  Chesterton looked baffled.  "They just jammed something up my butt.
Piece a plastic tube or something."

The Sargent nodded.  "Probably some advanced sort of lie detector probe.
You remember your training on how to fool those?"

"Yeah, clench up on the truth, relax on the lies so they can't tell 'em
apart."

"Good man.  You'll do fine."

Chesterton's confidence was returning.  "Yeah, I got this.  Just never had
anyone put anything up my butt before.  Feels kinda weird."

"Not hurting you or anything is it?"

"Nah, it was kinda cold but it's warm now.  No big DA FUCK?!"  The ropes
strained as Chesterton bucked his hips, shock written on his face.

"Private.  Private!  Are you okay?"

"Yes.  Um, sorry sir.  But...it moved."

"The thing in your butt?  The lie detector probe?"

"Yeah.  It twitched kinda.  Scared the crap outta me."  He gave a shaky
laugh.  "What's up with that bullshit?  Mmmph!  Fucker did it again."  He
bucked, but not nearly as much.

"Is it injuring you?  Do you think you're in any danger?  I'll call them
back here if I have to."

"No, don't call 'em back--we gotta stall, remember.  It just feels weird,
like I got flicked in the gooch or something.  Mmph!" He twitched.
"Fuckers."

"Okay, just ignore it then.  We need to stay calm and focused, so just tune
it out as much as you can.  Let's figure out how we're going to get out of
here."

That conversation ended up being depressingly short.  They were tied up and
naked, with no idea where they were, and no sign of their weapons or even
clothes.  They decided that they'd just have to wait out this interrogation
session, then overpower the Cuban and the Russian once they were released
from their bonds.  Flashes of annoyance crossed Chesterton's face
periodically as they talked, but he'd kept focused on the discussion at
hand.

"We should hold out as long as we can, but if we have to give them
something slip them last week's codes.  It'll take them a while to check
probably--that'll buy us some time."

"Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing Sarge.  And that way your old
code and mine'll match, so they'll seem more legi---hhhhffffff!"
Chesterton's eyes opened wide and he sucked in his breath, then began
breathing rapidly.

"Private--what's wrong?!  Answer me son!"

"It--I dunno.  It just got bigger all of a sudden."  He resumed his shallow
panting.

"Bigger?  What do you mean, bigger?"

"Like, it's all swollen up, like it inflated or something."  He sucked in a
deep breath.  "My asshole was not meant for this Sarge.  Jesus Christ!" He
gritted his teeth.

"Okay, try...um, try to take deep breaths and relax.  If you fight it you
might injure yourself."

"Easy for you to say sir.  No offense," he grunted.  He did begin breathing
more deeply though, and his respiration began to slow.

"Is that helping son?"  Jakovski was concerned: internal injuries would
leave them in an even worse place.

"Yeah.  Phew!  Yeah.  I think I'm getting used to it.  You sure know it's
there now though--Christ amighty."  He took a few more deep breaths.
"Okay, I got this."

"Good man.  I think they're just trying to freak you out, make you
uncomfortable before they start asking questions.  Just try to roll with it
and we'll get you through this, okay?

Chesterton met his gaze squarely.  He was still off balance, but the gaze
said that he'd see this through.  "Yes sir."

"Good man."  Jakovski projected confidence, even if his own was shaken a
bit.  What was the Russian up to?...  His thoughts were interrupted by a
barely-audible sucking-in of breath.  His gaze snapped back to his
subordinate, who looked surprised and mildly confused.  "What is it now?"

"It's...um, the tapping sir.  Sort of."

"Whadyou mean, 'sort of?'"

"Well, it's a little more of a, a pressing I guess you'd say, and it's
farther up there for sure.  And, uh...it kinda felt good maybe?"  He looked
unsure of himself.

"Okay, well you know the drill Chesterton.  Ignore it as best you can
and--did it just happen again?"  The Private had just sucked in a short
breath and twitched, brown eyes widening.

"Yeah.  A little stronger this time.  It...kinda got to me a little more."

"All right, eyes front.  I want you focused on me 100%, not paying
attention to that thing.  Attenhut!"

Years of training kicked in and the Private instinctively sat up straight
as well as he could, eyes locked forward as his Sargent gave him a fierce
glare and held it, demanding he maintain silent discipline.  Twice more he
twitched and his eyes lost their focus slightly, but he quickly recovered.
The third time though a small whimper escaped and he bit his lower lip,
while his back arched slightly.

"Is there a problem Private?"  Jakovski hoped his menacing tone would bring
back Chesterton's focus.  They couldn't afford this distraction so soon or
they'd never make it until they were rescued.

"Sorry sir."  Chesterton looked abashed.  "It's just that...it's starting
to feel really good.  I've never felt anything like this before, and
it's...kinda getting to me.  Aaah!"  His eyelids drooped, and he didn't so
much twitch this time as rock his hips.  The motion drew Jakovski's eyes to
his lap, where he could see the Private's trimmed cock pulsing and growing.
It'd be fully hard soon, and then what?  No one had ever trained them for
this sort of interrogation.  He looked up grimly and met Chesterton's eyes,
making the Private flinch.  "I'm sorry sir, I am!  I just can't help
myself.  I really can't!"  He sounded and looked desperate, but then the
machine did something again that made him shut his eyes and groan briefly,
hips pressing down instinctively into the chair's opening.  His cock
twitched and began to rise out of his lap, a clear bead of liquid already
forming at the piss slit.  When he opened them again his voice held a note
of urgency, a need to convince.  "It's not just the tapping any more Sarge.
It's doing other stuff.  It feels better each time, and it's like it's just
wired right to my dick or something."

When Jakovski was 15 he and his best friend Ben had found a box of Hustlers
in the dumpster behind their apartment building.  Ben's mom worked days and
they were horny teenagers, so of course they'd taken the whole stash back
to his friend's room and started leafing through them.  One thing led to
another and pretty soon they were jerking off together, each with his own
magazine.  They'd never done anything to each other, but it'd become a
regular ritual.  If neither one had jerked it in a while it'd be over in a
few minutes and they'd go do something else afterwards, but if they'd both
just gotten off, say that morning, they could spend hours at it, raunchy
centerfolds in one hand, dicks in the other.  He hadn't thought about that
in years, but then again he hadn't been around another guy getting off in
years either.

It gave him a ray of hope anyway: if the Private had taken care of himself
recently he might be able to hold out long enough for them to
try...something.  Stall, at least.  "Chesterton."  While he'd been thinking
the Private's attention had returned to the sensations in his ass.  His
eyes had slid shut, and his lips had parted slightly as his head leaned
back; his hips were rocking gently but steadily.  He had a decent-sized
cock, and it was at full attention now, bobbing in time with his hips'
rocking; the clear droplet had made it halfway down the shaft to his shaved
balls.  "Chesterton!"

The Private snapped out of his reverie, although his hips continued to move
slightly.  "Sorry sir.  I'm just...having trouble concentrating.  This
thing is making my dick so fucking hard."  His gaze lowered from the
Sargent's face and became puzzled.  "Did they do something to you too
Sarge?  Your dick looks bigger too."  Jakovski bent his head down.  Even
with a bit of manscaping his blond bush was dense enough to obscure the
view, but his cock was much bigger than the Private's, coming in at over 8"
when hard.  It was nowhere near that, but it was definitely swollen and
heavy feeling.  "And you've got a little juice coming out the tip."
Chesterton sounded almost thoughtful as he said it, his tongue
absentmindedly licking his upper lip just a bit as he said it.  His eyelids
drooped and he gave another small moan.

Something about the tone, or that look, or something, hit a nerve, and
Jakovski felt a little twinge that said he'd fluffed up another notch.
Shit.  He'd been so busy wrapping things up before his leave he hadn't had
time to jerk off in almost a week.  If he were with Ben and those Hustlers
he wouldn't have lasted two minutes.  Less if the Private had been there,
cock wagging in the breeze while he made those little noises and gave him
that look.

"Never mind that for now Private.  How long has it been since you've
strok--gotten off?"  He'd started to say "stroked yourself," but that
sounded too sexual.  Best to keep this clinical.

"It's been like a week Sarge--I've been so busy and tired I just never had
time.  Why?"

"Damn.  I was hoping if you'd just gotten off you could last longer."

"I wish I could get off Sarge.  This thing is starting to drive me nuts I'm
so horny."  He paused to pant a couple of times, squirming.  "How long has
it been for you?"

Jakovski sighed.  "About the same."

"So is that why you're getting hard too?"  He stared at the growing shaft
in front of him, twitching in time with the Sarge's pulse.  The clipped
head hung well below the furry blond base, but was rising up as it
continued to swell.

Jakovski's mouth was dry.  This whole situation was fucked up, but it was
also starting to turn him on in a big way.  "Guess I picked a bad week to
give up stroking my dick," he said weakly.

Chesterton's eyes were hooded as he watched it continue growing, occasional
soft noises coming from him as he slowly ground his hips in time with the
machine's rhythm.  Finally the monster reached it's full size, jutting out
proudly from the Sargent's flat belly.  Chesterton's voice sounded almost
reverent at the sight.  "It's so big sir.  And it's dripping so much."  He
licked his lips again without even noticing it, but the Sargent did.  "Do
you always do that?"

"Yeah," Jakovski said hoarsely, "when it's been a while."  He hadn't
touched himself, no one had touched him, but it didn't matter: the Private
was doing it for him, like a strip show with no touching at all allowed.
And the Private wasn't some titty dancer hoping for a tip--the stream of
precum coating his cock was proof that he was into it for real.  They were
only a couple of feet away from each other, so close he could see every
move and hear every little sound Chesterton made; it was like he was back
with Ben all over again, but they weren't doing their own thing now: the
Private was looking right at him the whole time.  Especially at the
Sargent's furry crotch dead center in front of him: his eyes were locked on
it right now, following the tip as it swayed, tracking the fluid running
down the shaft.  The look on his face suggested he'd be interested in doing
something with that fluid and his tongue, if only he were free.  Jakovski
grunted in frustration: if he could just reach his dick he knew he'd drop a
load in a heartbeat, and the knowledge that he couldn't just made him
crazier.

Chesterton made a weak attempt at a laugh.  "Guess you are really horny
sir--you're leaking like a faucet.  I mean, I thought I dripped a lot when
I was horned up, but man...."  His voice dropped.  "I can even smell it" he
said, half to himself.  His nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath,
then blew it out with a sigh.  The Sargent grunted at the sensation, cock
twitching automatically as it released another droplet.  Chesterton tore
his gaze away from the Sargent's groin briefly.  "Sorry sir.  I guess that
was kinda the blow without the job, huh?"

Jakovski nodded.  The mix of warm breath across his crotch, with spots of
coolness where it blew over the wet areas, made him shiver.  He strained
against his straps, instinctively trying to grab the Private's head and
pull it onto his shaft.  "Yeah, kinda.  Let's not do that again, okay
Private?"  The cool trail where his precum was running went all the way
down to the underside of his balls now, and there was no sign it was
letting up.  He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to calm himself.

"Yes sir.  No more tickling your balls."

"Yeah.  And uh...we should probably not talk about that stuff either.
We're just getting each other worked up."  He had to tear his gaze away
from Chesterton's shaft just below him--his imagination was starting to
play scenarios of taking it into his mouth.  "Eyes front soldier, stay
focused."

"Yes sir."  They lapsed into silence, trying to rein in their hormones.
The little noises Chesterton kept making weren't helping though--it was
obvious the machine was still working him over, maybe more than before.
"Um, sir?"

Jakovski glanced down.  "What is it Private?"

"I know you said eyes front sir.  And focus.  It's just that, um...you're
right in front of me.  Nnnnnnggh!"  It was his loudest groan yet, and his
eyes slid shut in pleasure.  When he recovered and opened them again his
face was flushed.  Both their faces were.  "So, um, anyway, all I'm doing
is staring at your...you know, at you and it feels so good inside me while
I'm doing it.  It's just messing with my head, y'know.  I mean, I shouldn't
be thinking this stuff but this thing is making my dick ache, and I'm just
watching the juice dripping off your balls and I know you're horny too and
that just makes me wanna get off even more but all I can do is stare at
your hard-on while my ass...it just feels so good."  He took a deep breath.
"Sorry sir, I know you said not to talk about that stuff but I just had to
say something."  He looked down in embarrassment.

Jakovski opened his mouth to reply, but didn't get the chance.  Their
kidnappers had returned, satisfied looks on their faces as they saw the
state both men were in.  The Cuban was carrying another box with some
pharmaceutical company's name on the side, and both men seemed to have
significant bulges in their pants.  Jakovski's ass gave an involuntary
twitch of fear mixed with anticipation.

"So," the Russian said smugly, "the initial run is proceeding well I see.
For both of you.  You are enjoying watching the Private interact with our
little machine, Sargent?"

"This is some twisted shit you fucker," Jakovski snarled.

"Oh, I agree."  The muscular blond's smile was predatory as he approached
the helpless NCO.  Jakovski may have outweighed him by a good 50 pounds,
but there was no question who was in charge.  He reached out a calloused
index finger and crooked it under the Sargent's shaved balls, and Jakovski
sucked in his breath as it slid slowly up, collecting a layer of fluid as
it went.  "But I think you like this 'twisted shit,' yes?"  He looked over
his shoulder at the Private, who was shuddering as the Cuban reached over
his shoulder and rolled a nipple between two fingers.  "Your subordinate
certainly does.  How is he doing?" he asked the stocky Hispanic.

White teeth showed in a grin.  "He's responding very well, comrade.  Very
well."  He reached down and began playing with the second nipple as well,
making Chesterton suck in his breath.  "As you see."

"Yes."  The Russian turned to them.  "Private, it is good to see a man who
knows what he likes.  Here, this is a small reward for your cooperation."
He extended his glistening index finger.  "You see how much your Sargent
enjoys what you do for him.  Here, take your reward.  Show him your
gratitude."  He pressed the finger to Chesterton's lips, and as it slid in
the Cuban's fingers tightened their grip on his nipples.  The Private
groaned, arching his smooth chest instinctively as he suckled.  The Russian
looked back at the Sargent where he was bound, hypnotized by the spectacle.
"You see Sargent, how much your subordinate loves the taste of you?
Satisfying, isn't it?"  There was no need for Jakovski to answer: his
throbbing cock said it all.

The Russian pulled his finger out, then crouched in front of the chair to
look into the Private's eyes.  "Did you enjoy your reward, Private?"
Chesterton didn't speak, just nodded weakly.  "The taste of another man, it
is enjoyable yes?"  His finger traced the bottom of Chesterton's flushed
penis, collecting droplets, and the Russian sucked it clean appreciatively,
pale blue eyes boring into the Private's brown ones.  "You see, we are not
so different.  I would very much like more of this myself.  Would you?
Would you like to taste your Sargent again?"

"Yes."  Chesterton's voice was almost a whisper, husky with lust.

"Of course you do, it is natural.  And we can do this.  But even your
Sargent needs some help to produce more fluid in the quantity you want.
Enough to fill your mouth with its flavor rather than just this little
taste.  You do want to taste more, yes?"  He gave the Cuban a nod, and when
the shorter man hit a button on the remote Chesterton whimpered.

"Yes.  Yes."  His voice rose, eager.

"Good, good.  We will do this then, to help you.  But--" he raised a finger
"there is one thing.  One small thing.  If we help you with what you want,
you must help us, yes?  A fair trade?"  Chesterton nodded warily.  "All we
ask is the first call sign.  Not all of them of course.  But just the first
one, as a show of good faith.  We can do nothing with it, but it will
demonstrate that you are worthy of the gift you desire.  Can you do this?"
His gaze was open, honest.  No harm will come of this, it promised.  His
finger lightly grazed the underside of Chesterton's shaft, up and down,
promising even better things to come if he cooperated.

Goosebumps raced over the Private's body and he shivered in excitement.
"Hotel.  It's hotel."  A wave of guilt swept over him as he saw the
Sargent's dismayed look.  He was supposed to have used the old code, but
he'd been so caught up he'd used the real one by mistake.  "Sorry Sarge.
I'm sorry.  I couldn't help myself."

Jakovski's scowl softened: he understood.  "No one's perfect Private.  No
more though."  Chesterton nodded in agreement, but his eyes were focused on
the swollen hard-on directly in front of his face.

The Russian stood up.  "Indeed Private, you are only human and your desires
are natural.  In any case, no real harm has been done to your precious
program, and you have earned your reward.  And I think your commander will
approve of it as well."  He looked at the Cuban, who had left off teasing
Chesterton's nipples and was lightly stroking the side of his neck.
"Please, hand me the other box."  He took it and turned to face the
Sargent.  The man's square features were set in defiance, but a few lines
of sweat had appeared, dampening his shaggy blond hair.

"No need to be concerned Sargent Jakovski.  I promise this will not hurt
you in the least."  From out of the box he procured a white plastic shaft
of irregular diameter, roughly 6" long and as thick as a thumb; silvery
lines webbed its surface.  It sat at an angle on top of a bulbous base
roughly the size of a baseball, studded with LEDs and buttons.  "On the
contrary.  This is a more advanced version of the system that Private
Chesterton has been enjoying so much of.  It has less variable physical
dimensions, but I think you'll find the additional features more than
compensate.  Shall we?"

He walked behind the towering blond, who frantically turned his head to try
and follow him.  "Keep that thing away from me you fucker!"

The Russian ignored him while he consulted some instructions.  Partway
through he looked up.  "Senor, perhaps while we are waiting you could
change Private Chesterton's settings as we discussed."

The Cuban grinned.  "Yes sir."  He pressed a button on the remote, and
Chesterton's muscles bulged as he let out a yelp.  "No need to panic
Private.  The probe is just growing in size; it will increase your pleasure
I promise.  Just take deep breaths and relax.  Right Sargent?"

"Yeah," he said slowly, gaze transfixed.  "You got through this before son,
remember?  Don't fight it."  He couldn't tear his gaze away from the
Private's crotch though: there was no mistaking the way his shaft had
swelled and turned a deeper shade of red as he adjusted to the new settings
on the probe, or the fresh leakage moistening his glans.

"Good advice, Sargent."  With that the Russian pressed the lubricated tip
of the rod against the big man's defenseless pink hole.  With the ankle
straps holding his legs in place he could only twitch his hips
ineffectively, the motion doing nothing to stop the invader.  He cursed
helplessly.

"Now Sargent, no need to struggle.  This will not injure you, I promise.
Just follow your own advice and the discomfort will pass soon enough.  Is
this not true, Private?  Are you not feeling better?"

Chesterton's panting had slowed as his body adjusted to the probe's new
girth.  "Yeah, he's right Sarge.  Mine's feeling better already.  Just," he
took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly, "breath real deep and relax.
Let it in."  There was a note of anticipation in his voice, almost eager.

The Sargent sagged, blond head bowed in defeat.  This was a battle he
couldn't win.  His sphincter loosened, and the bumpy rod worked its way in.
The others were right: by the time it was halfway up (the Russian working
surprisingly slowly and carefully) it didn't hurt at all.  He was so
relieved he didn't even notice the way his cock twitched when each new bump
entered him.  The Private and his minder did though.

"Good advice Private Chesterton: see how he's responding to the machine?
Not painful at all.  And soon you'll have your reward.  He's a magnificent
man."  The Cuban stood next to Chesterton and unbuttoned his fly, pulling
out a fat brown piece of meat with a modest foreskin.  It was already
swollen, and growing further as he started stroking it.  Chesterton turned
to look, fascinated as it became fatter and fatter, until it reached its
full size: not much longer than his own, but certainly bigger around than
the Sargent's.  Noting his expression, the Cuban smiled down at him.  "I
think you like looking at the big cocks, don't you?"  He skinned the head,
exposing the plum-sized glans.  "See?"  He moved it closer.

Jakovski watched this exchange with fascination, the presence in his ass
temporarily forgotten.  Would his soldier do it?  He knew it would be
another step towards them giving in completely, but the thought of the
Private's handsome face buried in the other man's black-furred crotch was
almost irresistible.  When the probe powered up, stimulating him with a
tingling buzz, he wasn't sure if the moan he made was pleasure at what it
was doing, or frustration at what Chesterton was not.

Like the devil on his shoulder, the Russian was there, stubble brushing his
neck as he whispered in one ear.  "That is lowest setting.  If you were to
encourage him to taste what my comrade has to offer I would be pleased to
increase the intensity."

Jakovski's ass clenched and unclenched, unsuccessfully trying to increase
the maddening stimulation on its own.  It really wasn't a choice: he
couldn't take this gentle yet relentlessly pulsing warmth.  "Private," he
whispered.  "Private."  Louder this time.

Chesterton tore his gaze from the Cuban's meat.  "Sir?"

"It's okay son.  Do it."

"Are you sure sir?"

"Yes, it's okay.  Aaaaaahhh!"  The Russian had dialed up the stimulation as
promised, and a pulse of pleasure spread from his hole, through his balls,
to the head of his dick.  A drop of cloudy fluid emerged and began sliding
down the well-traveled route to his balls.  "I'm fine.  Just suck him off."

"Tell him it's what you want to see," the Russian whispered in his ear.

Well it was true, wasn't it?  If he was being honest?  "Take his cock
Chesterton.  I wanna see you take him in your mouth and suck him."

A strange look crossed the dark-haired man's handsome features, then
cleared.  "Yes sir," he breathed, then turned his head to take the fat
glans into his mouth.  He kept his eyes turned towards the Sargent the
whole time though.  No question whose pole he wished he was lapping with
his tongue.

"Your man learns quickly, Sargent.  Truly you are an inspiration to him.
As he is to you I think.  Certainly to me--I think I will sample his skills
myself.  Consider the possibility that there are several more settings on
this device, and that I might use one of them if you continued to
be...supportive."  The Russian walked over to stand at the Private's other
shoulder.  His cock was already jutting out, and when he rubbed it against
the bound man's cheek it left a wet smear.  This time there was no
hesitation: Chesterton's head snapped around at the touch, and then his
lips were locked around the Russian's pink shaft, sliding back and forth.

Jakovski gasped and squirmed as he watched.  The other soldier had been
right: it was impossible to feel what he was feeling in his ass, watch what
was happening in front of him, and not be turned on by the sight.  "Yeeess
Chesterton, suck him.  Take him deep son, just like that.  Take his cock.
Yeah, that's a good man.  Deeper...deeper...aw fuck yeah, all the way to
the root.  Show him what an American soldier can do!  God that's hot.
Okay, switch over Private.  Show me how much of that chorizo you can get
down your throat.  That's it...keep going.  Pretend it's mine Private--show
me how you'd suck my cock.  Fuck yeah!  Get it all in there...."  Jakovski
panted with lust as he urged Chesterton on.  The feelings in his ass were
getting more intense as he egged on the Private, encouraging him to give in
to his rutting instincts.

The kidnappers made use of the Private's mouth for what seemed like a good
half hour; by the time they backed away his lips were swollen and a trail
of saliva was running down his chin.  All of them were panting.  "Your man
is very skilled Sargent--you have trained him well.  And he enjoys his
work."  Chesterton groaned when the Cuban squeezed the base of his shaft,
and a quarter teaspoon of white watery fluid poured out over his fingers.
"See?"  He reached over and held them under the Sargent's nose.  "Smell
that?  He nearly came right now.  Do you want to know what he tastes like?"

"Yes."  It smelled like the distilled essence of fellatio, flowing straight
from his soldier's balls.  His own churned heavy and full from their
nonstop stimulation; to be able to drink that fluid would be.... "Yes, let
me taste him."

"Certainly senor.  What is the first call sign?"

"No." His voice was hoarse with struggle.  He couldn't....  The fingers
moved closer until the rich smell of Chesterton's spunk filled his nose and
his head spun with lust.

"It's okay sir."  It was Chesterton.  "Take my load.  I wanna see you take
him in your mouth and lick him clean."

Jakovski gave up the fight.  "Sierra.  It's sierra."

"Very good amigo, very good.  Enjoy your reward."

He groaned as the machine increased the sensations in his ass yet again,
then closed his eyes and sighed in contentment as he tasted Chesterton's
warm juice.  Rich and nutty, slightly bitter maybe--the exact flavor didn't
matter as long as he could get it.  He groaned again as a warm hand
squeezed his shaft and balls, then collected his own almost-cum.  When he
opened his eyes again the Russian had his fingers in Chesterton's mouth.
The two Americans locked gazes as they hungrily sucked each other's juices;
Jakovski had never done anything this erotic in his life.  His hard-on
throbbed with the need for release.

Too soon the fingers were clean; he grunted in frustration as the Cuban
pulled his fingers free, even if there was nothing left to taste.
"Delicious isn't it?"  The dark-skinned man gave him a knowing smile; his
own enormous shaft was still erect.  Jakovski said nothing, just watched as
Chesterton tried to keep the Russian's slippery fingers in his mouth as
long as possible.  Had he looked that desperate for another taste a minute
ago?

The Russian thumbed his remote as he nodded at his colleague; Jakovski felt
the warm electric throbbing in his ass slow to a gentle pulse.  At the same
time he could see Chesterton take a deep breath; his hips no longer
grinding in desperation, but just rocking gently.  The look on his face was
a mix of relief and longing.

"You have enjoyed this, yes?  You have tasted each other, as men should."
The Russian sounded pleased with them.  "Rest now for a few minutes; we
will continue our conversation later."

"One moment, comrade."  The Cuban broke in.  "Private, you have enjoyed
this, si?"  Chesterton gave an exhausted nod.  "Of course you have.  And
perhaps you have noticed that as the machine's probe has increased in size,
your pleasure has as well.  Now I leave you to think.  You see your
Sargent's prize possession?  His magnificent cock?"  The Cuban's brown hand
stood out vividly when it wrapped around the pink shaft and shook it
slightly; Chesterton couldn't stop watching.  "So big, si?"  He shook it
again.  "Have you wondered what it would feel like to have this inside you?
Here, you shall find out."  He held up the remote and pushed a button, and
immediately a strained groan rose from the Private.  "We will be back in a
few minutes.  Until then, relax and breath deeply."  He chuckled as the two
of them exited.

For the next few minutes the room was quiet except for Chesterton's grunts
and deep breaths; his eyes were closed as he adjusted to whatever the Cuban
had done.  Slowly his calm returned however, until at last he opened his
eyes again to see his Sargent watching him intently.

"You okay Chesterton?" the big blond asked.

"Yessir.  It just took a bit of getting used to."  He chuckled weakly.  "I
guess now I know how all those chicks you banged felt."  He looked up.

"Just don't think about that right now Private; you need--"

"Fuck that Sarge!"  The Private continued, more quietly but no less
fiercely.  "This is all I can think about and you know it!  We both know
what these machines are doing to us.  I saw the look on your face when that
Russian shoved that thing up your ass--I thought you were gonna nut right
then and there!  And now I've got this thing up my ass, spreading me open,
while your dick is hanging right there in front of me!  How can I not think
about what your dick would feel--"

"That's enough!" Jakovski's tone warned the Private that he was going too
far, but the muscular soldier was too far gone to care.

"Admit it Sarge, you're as horned up as I am!  I never thought I'd say
this, but I thought I might nut when I started sucking that Cuban's dick.
Because you told me to.  Because you wanted me to."  He stared up
defiantly.

Jakovski sighed: Chesterton was right.  "I'm sorry son.  It's not your
fault.  And...yeah...I did tell you to do it.  That's on me."

"At least...I mean, it was the right thing to do, right Sarge?"

"Yeah.  You did what you had to.  It's okay."

"Man, I can't believe it did.  I mean...you know, all of it."

"...Yeah.  Yeah, it was--you were.... I mean, this is a pretty fucked-up
situation we're in, you know?"

"Yeah."

"But...um...yeah, it was...you did real good."  Jakovski meant the way the
Private had held out as long as he had--hell, longer than _he_ had done
once that thing went up his ass--but that's not how the dark-haired man
took it.

Chesterton breathed out a loud sigh.  "Phew.  I mean, I kinda thought I was
doing it right coz of how they were leaking in my mouth, but I didn't know.
I've sure never done that before.  Or the other part."  He blushed
slightly.

"That was something else, I gotta say.  You were right Private: that got my
engine going good."  It was the Sargent's turn to blush.  He could still
taste the liquid he'd cleaned off the Cuban's fingers.

Chesterton gave a small snort of agreement.  "Yeah, you could say that
again.  Watching you leak all over your balls like that...when he grabbed
my dick I seriously thought I might blow my load.  And then you ate it all
up like that...holy shit, that was something else."

"Well, like you said, it's hard not to like anything going on in front of
you when those things are working your ass over."

"Right?  That's some whole next level shit going on Sarge.  I mean, I've
never felt anything like this, have you?"

"Nope.  It's..."  Jakovski sucked in his breath slightly.  Their
interrogators had turned down the machine's intensity but it wasn't gone,
and he'd just felt an especially potent twinge.  "It's something else."

Chesterton knew what the pause meant.  "It's better than getting your dick
sucked, right?"

"Yeah."  Another twinge.  "Hell yeah."  A new droplet arrived and began its
journey down the bottom of his shaft.

"Yeah....  Sarge?..."

Jakovski tore his mind away from his groin for the moment.  "What is it?"

"What're we gonna do?"

"We've gotta just get through this Private."

"Yessir, I know, but how?"

"I don't know Private.  I don't know.  But we have to fight our instincts
and hang on until we're rescued."

"I know, but how sir?  Every time this thing gets bigger it feels better.
If it starts moving again...I don't know what I'll do.  You know what I
mean--I saw your face when the Russian started moving that thing inside
you."

"Yeah.  Yeah, I understand."  There was a pause, and then Jakovski made the
most painful admission of his life.  "Private, I'll be honest.  I don't
know what we're going to do here."  Maybe it was a bad command decision,
but it felt good to tell the truth.

Surprisingly, Chesterton looked relieved.  "It's okay sir--it's not your
fault.  Maybe if we cooperate they'll let us go eventually."

"Well when they do we're going to need a hotel room for a couple of days."

"Sir?"

"I think we're going to need some time to figure out how much of this
fucked-up shit was just because of their machines."

"Yes sir!" Chesterton breathed.  They both noticed how his cock twitched
when he said it.  "It just makes sense, right?"

"Yeah, just to, you know, help realize how this is just because of the
fucked-up situation we're in."  Jakovski's dick pulsed.

"Yes sir!  I mean, I'm sure I wouldn't be like this normally if I didn't
have something the size of your dick up my ass."  His dick flexed as well.

"Right! That would be crazy.  You riding my cock like that.  Or fucking
me..."  he added in a low voice.

"Fuck, Sarge..." Chesterton breathed, "I wanna go down on you so bad right
now."

The Sargent swallowed, imagining just that.  "Would you play with my ass?"

"Yes sir.  Whatever you wanted."

Jakovski gave a frustrated grunt.  "Damn, I wanna taste more of your spunk
too son.  Looks like that's not gonna happen anytime soon though."

"Yeah, I think we're both headed for a major case of blue balls, aren't
we?"

"Maybe not."  They both jerked in surprise: they'd been so focused on each
other they hadn't noticed their interrogators' return.  Both their flies
were still open, and the Cuban's shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a smooth,
well-muscled chest.  Jakovski swallowed at the sight of his half-hard unit
just visible through his fly.  "You two are discovering the benefits of
cooperation I think."  He turned to the Russian.  "Perhaps we could offer
them some additional benefits?..."

The Russian stood with his hands on his hips, appraising them both.  "Da.
Maybe.  Let us see if they show appreciation."  It seemed lust had made his
accent thicker.  He pulled his remote out and pressed a button, and
Jakovski sucked in his breath as the probe began to pulse again, slowly but
steadily, while subtle vibrations flickered on and off.  His cock felt full
and heavy even as it stood rigidly at attention, and he could feel the cum
churning in his balls.  The blond gave him a small, satisfied smirk.  "Good
Sargent.  It seems you show proper appreciation."  He jerked his head
towards the seated man.  "Now him."

The Cuban smiled down at the Private and cupped a hand under his chin,
forcing the man to meet his gaze.  "Private, are you comfortable?"
Chesterton nodded weakly.  "Good.  You should be proud of yourself: the
apparatus is at maximum size, and here you have accommodated it completely.
Not many could do this so quickly--I think you must be very motivated, si?
Perhaps it is because it is now the same size as your Sargent?  Look at
it--" he turned Chesterton's head to stare at the mammoth tool dripping in
front of him, "--imagine what it would feel like if it were him, inside
you.  Moving."  He hit a button on his own remote and Chesterton's eyes
closed in pleasure while his hips rocked.  "This is only a low setting of
course: very little movement really.  But you can imagine now what it might
feel like to have him inside you.  Do you like it Private?"

Chesterton swallowed, eyes still closed "Yes," he whispered hoarsely.

The Russian had pulled out his pink shaft at the sight of Chesterton's
reaction, and was already hard; he began stroking himself slowly.  "Truly
an erotic sight, isn't it Sargent?"

Jakovski couldn't tear his eyes away.  Watching the other soldier suck
cock, imagining it was his sliding into that handsome face, had been hot
enough.  Now, imagining that they were fucking, all he could do was whisper
"yes."

"Perhaps a bit more then?  Would you like to see that?"  Jakovski nodded,
eyes still glued to Chesterton's muscular body and what it was doing.  The
Russian gave the Cuban a nod, and he hit a button.

The effect was immediate.  Chesterton gave a low groan from deep within his
chest, and his head flopped back.  A surge of white liquid poured out of
his piss slit as the newly-intense sensations pushed him closer to the
edge.  "!De puta madre!" the Cuban whispered, and whipped out his own piece
of meat, thumb peeling back the foreskin to work over the swelling head.
All three watched as Chesterton's head rolled from side to side, grinding
his hips in an attempt to increase the stimulation.  Frustration grew on
his face as his bindings prevented him from doing anything more.

"Deeper!" he gasped, and the Russian and Cuban exchanged a knowing look.
The Cuban brought his crotch close to Chesterton's face, and when his wet
head came within range his captive didn't hesitate: his mouth closed around
it instantly, forcing the fat piece of meat as far down his throat as he
could manage.

The Cuban enjoyed his attention for a couple of minutes while the other two
watched.  The Russian's stroking had picked up pace slightly, and his free
hand idly pinched Jakovski's nipple, causing an occasional whimper of
pleasure.  Satisfied by the state of affairs, the Cuban reluctantly pulled
out, leaving Chesterton gasping while a fresh trail of drool ran down his
chin.  The Cuban hit a button, and his captive's squirming slowed down.

"Very good, Private, very good.  I am glad to see you enjoyed a taste of
the possibilities.  Perhaps you are worthy of a higher setting after all."
The Private nodded eagerly.  "Just provide me with your second code, and it
is done."  He tapped a button briefly and Chesterton twitched.  "I can
leave it on that setting, once you provide the code word."

Chesterton's athletic frame shivered as the probe pulsed once more.
"Oscar.  Oscar."  He sagged in defeat, but his erection didn't soften one
bit.

"Very good Private.  We are grateful for your cooperation."  He tapped a
button and the Private sighed in pleasure.  "But before I increase this
from the lowest setting, I think we should get approval from your superior.
Sargent?"

"Yes."  The thought that Chesterton was imagining it was his cock inside
made Jakovski dizzy.  "Do it.  Make him come."  Immediately the sensations
in his ass intensified, and he groaned.

"I think you misunderstand Sargent," the Russian explained, "Your man will
get the stimulation he desires when we have the next call sign from you as
well."  The Russian bit down briefly on one nipple and Jakovski whimpered;
he could feel another droplet fall from his balls.

"Please Sarge," Chesterton was almost whining with need, "I need this real
bad.  Do this for me, please!"  His face was flushed and a light sweat had
broken out on his body, the masculine scent irresistible.

The Russian slid his fingers through the trimmed black fur at the base of
the Private's cock; precum had soaked it thoroughly and he easily coated
his fingers with it.  When they slid into the Sargent's mouth he groaned at
the intoxicating mix of musk and semen.  "So good, isn't it Sargent?
Imagine how much more there would be if we increased the machine's
intensity.  What it would be like to watch your man grinding in pleasure as
he imagines it is you inside him.  And perhaps we could find a way to make
it more enjoyable for you as well...."

"It'd be you Sarge," Chesterton promised in a husky voice.

Jakovski nodded weakly; he couldn't fight it any more.  Didn't want to.  He
just wanted to ride this to the end.  "Echo."

"Echo?  You are certain Sargent?"  When Jakovski nodded he turned to the
Cuban and jerked his thumb up, and Chesterton began to groan in earnest.
Precum ran down his shaft in a visible stream now, and he whimpered when
the Cuban's tongue found a nipple.

Jakovski watched mesmerized, barely aware of the way his hips thrust and
twisted in response to the probe.  He could smell the clean sweat of
Chesterton's body, along with the raunchier scent coming from his groin,
and he growled with lust.  Their kidnappers could think what they wanted,
but his soldier was putting on a show just for him--one he'd never forget.
His imagination took over, picturing their bodies together for real,
sliding and thrusting; he hardly noticed at first when the stimulation he
was receiving diminished.  It wasn't until the first bump slid past his
now-loosened ass ring that he registered what was happening.

"Whaa?...  No, don't stop," he said, thickly.  "God, don't stop."  They
couldn't leave him like this, not when it felt so good.

"Shhh...don't worry my muscular American friend," the Russian whispered
soothingly.  The stubble on his skin rubbed Jakovski's shoulder as he
talked, sending shivers down his back.  "I promised you we would make you
feel better, yes?  And now I will."  He slid his hands across the big man's
furry chest, seeking and then pinching his nipples until the Sargent bit
his lower lip and groaned.  The Russian had stripped, and when his body
pressed into Jakovski's back, the American could feel everything: the
muscular warmth, the stiff hairs from his trimmed chest, the soft fur of
his crotch, and above all the hot shaft pressed into the cleft of his ass
cheeks.  Jakovski said nothing, just arched his buttocks to grind them
against the Russian.  "Yes, very good," the Russian murmured, and deftly
positioned himself at Jakovski's eager hole.

The Sargent closed his eyes in anticipation.  For the moment even the
Private's show wasn't enough to distract him: his hole had become
accustomed to being pleasured, and it ached with the need to be filled
again.  When the slick head pressed and began stretching him open he
shivered.  The machine had been pleasurable in a mechanical way but the
warmth of a real cock, hard but flexible as it entered him, was
unbelievably erotic.  The Russian was bigger than the machine too,
stretching him in a way that made him gasp.  Accommodating him meant
Jakovski had to submit utterly, and he willingly did so.  "Fuck me," he
whispered.  "Please, fuck me."

"Yes, my friend, yes."  The Russian rubbed his hands over Jakovski's furred
torso, palms caressing his bush and wet balls, but avoiding the one place
Jakovski was desperate to feel his touch.  "Here is what you need."

Jakovski arched his back in pleasure.  "Yesss," he hissed.  He writhed
under the Russians touch, turned on all the more by his fellow soldier's
presence.  He was supposed to be Chesterton's superior, and somehow that
made it all the hotter.  Letting himself be used, begging to be fucked,
while the soldier under his command watched, squirming with his own
pleasure--nothing had ever made his cock this hard before.

The Cuban stood next to Chesterton, stroking himself as he watched the
beefy Sargent surrender to pleasure.  He looked down, noting the mix of
arousal and jealousy on the Private's face.  "Look Private.  See how much
better your Sargent enjoys a real cock?  I think you want to try this too,
si?"  Chesterton nodded, then glanced at the Cuban with a mix of lust and
apprehension.  The Cuban leaned over to gaze into his eyes.  "Yes, part of
you is nervous because I am bigger than your friend--but a bigger part of
you knows the truth.  Knows that the more you are filled, the more you feel
pleasure.  Knows that when I take you the feeling will be unbelievable.
This is what you need.  Admit it."

Chesterton took a shaky breath.  "Yes."  His hips ground to the machine's
rhythm, but his eyes and thoughts were turned to the warm shaft so close to
him.  He whimpered.

The Cuban nodded.  "Yes.  And now you will give me the last call sign.  And
then I will fuck you in front of your Sargent as you both want."

Chesterton's nostrils flared, picturing what he was about to do.  Picturing
it in front of the Sargent.  "Tango."

"Veeery good, Private.  Very good indeed.  I will make you very happy, I
promise."  The Cuban hit a button on the remote, resetting it to its
original size.  While it was deflating he knelt down in front of the chair
to undo the straps on Chesterton's ankles, then took advantage of their
freedom to spread his thighs wide and run his tongue slowly up the bottom
of his shaft, once.  Arms still bound to the chair, Chesterton could only
whimper.  When he looked up he saw Jakovski watching them, eyes half-closed
in bliss while he licked his lips.

The Cuban smiled knowingly and stood up, cock wagging as he walked behind
the chair and undid the cord binding his captive to it.  "Time for your
reward Private."  The soldier's wrists were still strapped tightly together
behind his back, but the Cuban was as strong as he looked and easily
hoisted Chesterton to a standing position in front of the chair without any
help, the probe sliding out of him as he stood up.  The Cuban slid the
chair out of the way and took its place, the wet head of his cock lightly
touching the sculpted ass in front of it.  He placed his hands on the
taller man's shoulders and pressed him down until he was leaning forward in
a kneeling position, knees spread wide.  The Cuban knelt behind him and
began sliding his glans through the Private's lightly furred crack until he
found the warm slippery pucker he was looking for and began to press.  He
shivered as he sank into the tight warmth--"Oh yes, amigo.  Very nice
indeed."  The American bent over to rest his head on the ground, panting as
he his ring was relentlessly opened.

It was too much for Jakovski to bear.  To have Chesterton so close,
watching the Cuban mount him while the Russian bred his own helpless
hole....  "Suck me.  Suck my cock Chesterton," he gasped.

The Cuban smiled up wickedly at him, saying nothing for a long minute as he
bottomed out and his balls were snugged firmly against the American's
taint.  "Now that one hole is full, you think he might like his other
filled as well?"  He began rocking his hips, slowly but insistently, and
Chesterton's hands clenched in their bindings.  "Would you, Private?  Like
to taste your Sargent's cock again?"

"Oh God...nnggh...oh God yes!  Fuck me while I do it!"

Still pumping his hips gently, the Cuban hauled him up by his shoulders,
then tangled one hand in his hair to pull his head back.  "Here he is
Sargent.  So close you can feel him panting on your cock.  He can smell
your sweat, practically taste your juices."  Jakovski grunted and thrust
his hips forward, the tip of his cock an inch from the Chesterton's eager
mouth.  "And all you have to do is give us your last call sign."

Jakovski's mind paused, even as his body continued pushing back
instinctively into the Russian's thrusts.  He knew that this was the last
boundary to cross: if he submitted here they would have access to the
government systems he was sworn to protect.  But if he gave in to
them...he'd tasted the things they could do to his body, and he couldn't
refuse his needs any longer.  "X-ray.  Now for Christ's sake get me off!"

"Not yet Sargent!" the Russian grunted through gritted teeth.  "Not until I
do!"  He began ramming the huge blond with renewed vigor, the sound of
flesh slapping against flesh loud in the room.  The two of them began to
groan in unison.

"Here," the Cuban said in Chesterton's ear, "something to tide you both
over."  He pushed the Private's head forward, but steered it to one side
until his face was pressed into the blond fur of the Sargent's crotch.
Chesterton took a deep breath and moaned in need, his ass clamping down on
the sliding cock inside.  And then he maneuvered his mouth to where he
could finally take the Sargent's slick musky balls into his mouth and begin
licking them clean.

Jakovski spasmed, cloudy liquid running down his shaft to replace what
Chesterton slurped up.  The pounding in his hole, the warm mouth on his
nuts--he was so close!  If he hadn't been strung up his hands would've been
wrapped around his meat long ago, but all he could do was buck helplessly,
completely at the mercy of the Russian's cock and Chesterton's tongue.
"Fuck me harder!  Do it!  Fuck my brains out you bastard!"  He squeezed his
exhausted sphincter as hard as he could, desperate to milk the Russian dry
so he could finally drop his load.  "Harder!"

The Russian gave a bellow and slammed into him, pubes grinding hard into
his ass as he spasmed.  Jakovski could feel the cock in his ass swell and
ground against it enthusiastically, picturing the semen flooding into him.
"Breed my hole fucker!" he shouted, and let out an ecstatic "GAAAAH!" as
Chesterton's warm mouth engulfed him at last, lips sliding exquisitely over
his length until his head was nestled at the back of the muscular Private's
throat.  His vision greyed out as he blasted jet after jet, Chesterton
grunting with the effort to keep up.  The Russian was still thrusting, and
each time the head raked his prostate another volley went down his
subordinate's eager throat.  With the straps holding him in place he was
completely at their mercy, begging incoherently to be fucked harder, sucked
more, anything they wanted as long as they didn't stop.  For a few seconds
it seemed like his orgasm might never end.

When it finally did and he opened his eyes, he saw that he wasn't imagining
how hard he'd come.  White goo was running down the Private's square jaw
despite the man's best efforts to lick it up, and a jet had somehow managed
to streak his face and land in his thick black hair; he looked ecstatic.
Jakovski wished he could lean down and slide his tongue into the man's open
mouth, sharing his taste, but that would have to be another time.  For now,
he deserved to experience the same pleasure Jakovski had.  He thought about
the size of the thing buried to the hilt in Chesterton's muscular ass and
shivered, partly in dread and partly in renewed lust.  The Russian's
thrusts had nearly made him pass out--what would something like that do to
him?  What would it do to his comrade?  The thought of finding out sent a
pulse of blood back to his cock.  "Fuck him.  It's what he wants.  Ride his
ass and make him cum."

Chesterton looked him in the eye.  "Yes Sargent, I need it.  I need that
thick cock fucking me," he finished in a low voice, then bent over to rest
his head on the floor.  Droplets of cum had landed near him, and he began
licking up the ones he could reach.

The Cuban gave him a knowing look.  "I think he is not the only one
Sargent.  Maybe when I am done with him, you will want to know what the
Private is feeling...."  He began hunching his hips, hands pressing down on
the bottom's back, and Chesterton started to whimper again.  "Can you
imagine Sargent?"  He gave a harder thrust and the muscular man beneath him
gasped.  "Can you?"  He shifted his focus to the hole he was penetrating
and picked up speed until the gasps merged and rose into one nonstop moan.

The Sargent watched fascinated, his cock rapidly returning to a full
erection.  Fucking or being fucked--images of both whirled through his
head.  He was barely aware of the Russian slipping out of him and coming to
stand at his side, but when the man's muscular hand wrapped around him and
started jacking him off he gasped.  The man grinned at him.  "I knew you
wouldn't make it."

"Fuck you.  Just..." he sucked in his breath as the grip tightened and
twisted, stimulating the sensitive ridge of his glans.  "Just jerk me off.
Please."

"Which one do you want to be?"

"I dunno.  Either one--both--whatever.  Hsss!"  The stocky blond was
working him over in earnest now, grinning cruelly as his stroking
increased.  "Fuck!  Chesterton, I wanna be Chesterton!"

"You want that fat cock all to yourself, dontcha?"  He leaned over and let
a glob of spit fall onto the bound man's shaft for lube.  Below them the
Cuban had picked up speed, sweat running down his face as he pounded into
Chesterton's ass.  Despite having his hands bound behind his back the
Private was pushing back hard, his yelps and moans signaling his desire for
more.

"Nnnnggh...yeah...fuck yeah."

"That's the spirit.  Show 'em how much you want it.  Shoot that load all
over them both."

Face intent on his own orgasm, the Cuban managed to reach one hand around
to grope at the bottom's crotch, and Chesterton wailed as he finally
experienced the relief Jakovski just had.  "OH GOD!  I'M FUCKING COMING!
FUCK ME! FUCKIN' FUCK ME!  AAAAHHHH!"

The sight of it triggered something primal in Jakovski's brain, and from
out of nowhere his own orgasm hit.  "Fuck!  Fuckin'--stroke me man!
Jesusaaaaahh!"  Blasts of cum launched from him, basting both the brown and
white skin below him.  It was as though he hadn't cum at all 10 minutes
ago.

The big blonde's orgasm didn't last as long as the record-setter he'd just
had, and by the time the two on the floor had subsided he was done too.
All of them were panting heavily as they recovered.

A young blond man wearing sweats poked his head in the door.  His hair was
cut short, and he sported a cropped Van Dyke.  "Hey guys, game's on in
five.  You told me to tell you."  He cocked an eyebrow at the men in
uniform, and the two naked ones still bound and panting.  "Team building
exercise?"

The Hispanic grinned and slapped the ass of the man below him; his cock was
still engorged, and he hadn't pulled out yet.  "Community relations night.
Right Officer?"

The black-haired stud barely moved; all that he could muster was a faint
"Oh Jesus Christ," followed by a faint "mmmMM" as the enormous piece of
meat inside him started to slide out.

The visitor grinned.  "Nicely done boys.  Kickoff in five--see ya!  Or
not."  He disappeared.

The Hispanic finished pulling out and stood up, cock slick with juice as he
eyed the big blond.  "So you wanna be Chesterton next time huh?"  The other
nodded.  "Well my girlfriend's out of town all weekend and I don't need to
have the costume back for another four days big boy.  You know where my
room is."  He winked.

"Gimme an hour," Big Dave groaned.  "I'll meet you then."