Date: Thu, 27 Apr 2017 13:55:03 -0700
From: Kirk McCorkle <avunculous@gmail.com>
Subject: Rod Hardy of the Galactic Guard, Part 3

Rod Hardy of the Galactic Guard
Book 3: Ravaged By The Squad

by Kirk McCorkle

MM bd Sci-Fi military medical

This is a work of erotic fiction. All participants are fictional, and are
over eighteen years of age. If reading erotic fiction about adult male
participants that involves sex, sexual servitude, bondage, and domination
is illegal wherever you are, don't read any further. Or, you know, take
precautions. I welcome your feedback, and hope you enjoy the story.


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_________________________

>From his vantage point under Brock's arm, Cadet Rod Hardy of the Galactic
Guard could see the surface of the asteroid swing past, then the rings of
Saturn in all their magnificence. Then the Galactic Guard Academy buildings
spun by, followed by a glimpse of the bubbles where his whole squad was
watching Brock beat the crap out of him.

Brock's legs were wrapped up with his, immobilizing them. One of Rod's arms
was flailing, while the other felt like it was about to be broken in two
places. The buzzer went off and Brock released him. The scoreboard gave
Brock another two points.

Rod tried to pull himself together as the air jets blew them back to their
starting positions in the center of the wrestling bubble. With all the laps
he'd done on the space bikes earlier today and the whipping he'd started
his day with, he was exhausted. He shook his head and watched a drop of
sweat bead off his nose and go floating towards the air filtration ducts.

Brock was the standout zero-G wrestler for the incoming class of cadets,
and he was a cinch to be recruited for the varsity wrestling team. Rod, on
the other hand, had never been in a wrestling bubble until he'd gotten to
the Academy a few weeks before, and it was all he could do to try to
remember the rules and keep track of which way was up.

As they drifted back to the center of the sphere Rod took a quick look at
the neighboring bubbles where the rest of their squad was gathered. Most of
them looked like they were cheering, except for his unit-mates Chris and
Thomlin who were looking disappointed. So it was going about as well as he
thought.

"I'm really going to enjoy fucking your ass, Hardy." Brock was back in
position already, while Rod was still trying to get himself oriented
correctly.

"I don't know, Brock. I mean, I've taken some pretty big cocks lately. I
might be way too big for you," Rod said.

While Brock was trying to figure out a comeback to that one, Rod got in
position. Both wrestlers started in the standard position, each with one
hand on the other's neck, and the other hand on their waist. The timer
stared counting down.

Rod found himself looking in Brock's eyes, and in the exhaustion and the
defeat of the moment, he felt a calm come over him. Brock's eyes were
hazel, and they would have been nice eyes if they hadn't been seething with
hate at the moment. Rod found himself wishing Brock was less of an asshole,
because he really was eminently fuckable.

The timer turned red, and Brock immediately went for a two-handed grip on
Rod's head. Rod tried to duck out from under it and fell right into Brock's
trap. Brock pushed Rod's head down further, grabbed his leg, and the next
thing he knew Brock had him wrapped up completely. Brock was on Rod's back,
face right above his ass, with his legs wrapped around Rod's arms, and his
arms keeping Rod's legs immobile.

Rod felt Brock's sweaty body up against his back. He tried to buck him off,
but Brock rode him effortlessly. They floated in the middle of the sphere,
completely entwined, struggling mightily.

Brock's voice came from somewhere near Rod's ass. "Damn, Hardy, your ass is
downright funky. I don't know if I want to stick my cock in that."

"I made it special just for you," Rod said.

He had almost worked one arm free when the buzzer went off. Two more points
were awarded to Brock, and they began the drift back to the center of the
bubble.

"If you really wanted to fuck me, Brock, you could have just asked nicely,"
Rod said as he tried to get himself perpendicular to the horizon.

"Fucking you is easy," Brock said. "This is more fun."

When the timer went off this time, Rod was able to spin away from Brock's
opening lunge for his leg. He reached out and grabbed whatever was closest
to him as he spun, and ended up with Brock's ankle. Remembering a move from
zero-G wrestling class last week, Rod used his momentum to pivot around
Brock's leg, trying for a submission hold. It didn't work, of course. Brock
spun unexpectedly, and was going for a hold on Rod's legs. Rod suddenly
realized that his legs were under him, in a crouched position, and the wall
of the bubble was pretty close behind Brock.

Rod pistoned his legs out into Brock's side. Brock went flying at the
transparent diamond wall of the bubble, and Rod went flying just as fast
the other way. The out of bounds gong sounded a split second before Rod hit
the wall with his shoulders, and the scoreboard now read 11 to 2 in Brock's
favor.

Rod caught a glimpse of the squad cheering, and then he was face to face
with Brock again. Brock's bravado was gone, and there was a fearsome anger
in its place. "Think you can make a comeback in fifteen seconds, Hardy?"

As he spoke, a drop of sweat or spittle flicked off his chin and lazily
floated across the space between the wrestlers. They both watched it for a
moment, and then Rod stuck out his tongue and licked it up. Brock recoiled,
and Rod gave him a grin.

Then the buzzer went off and Rod realized that Brock had been toying with
him. Before he could figure out what was happening Brock had him in a hold
he couldn't get out of, and the buzzer was going off again. There were
twelve seconds left on the clock.

In those last twelve seconds Brock put four more points on the board. He
put Rod in holds that left him gasping in pain, or with his face buried in
Brock's armpit or his ass. Brock manhandled him so thoroughly that there
was almost as much of Brock's sweat on him as there was his own. His hands
slid off Brock's slick skin as they struggled in the middle of the sphere,
the universe spinning around them.

When the final buzzer sounded the score was seventeen to two and Rod was
completely exhausted. Brock held up one of Rod's limp arms as the cadets in
the bubbles around them cheered him. Then Brock gathered his legs under him
and put his bare feet on Rod's chest, then pushed off him. Rod went
caroming off the wall of the bubble while Brock made a neat landing next to
one of the tethers. He snagged Rod as he flailed past, and tied one of
Rod's ankles to the tether.

It took him less than a minute to have Rod bound spread-eagled in the
middle of the bubble, weightless, restrained, and completely helpless. It
was strange being tied up in microgravity. On the one hand, it was really
comfortable. There wasn't any strain on his limbs. On the other, though,
Brock now had access to every inch of his body and there was nothing Rod
could do about it.

Brock was all over him, clambering over the ropes and Rod's body, clawing
at him, pinching him, biting him. Rod had never seen anyone move in
microgravity like Brock could. Brock stuck his ass in Rod's face, showing
off for the guys, then got his feet braced under him on Rod's chest. Then
he shoved off, and Rod flew backwards, the tethers pulling hard at his arms
and legs.

Brock flipped in mid-trajectory and hit the diamond wall of the bubble feet
first. He launched back towards Rod with both fists out in front of him,
and for a moment Rod thought that Brock was about to hit him full force. At
the last moment Brock did another flip, and slammed into Rod ass-first. His
legs clamped around Rod's torso, while Rod's limbs absorbed the brunt of
the impact.

Brock sat with his legs wrapped around Rod's chest and looked down at Rod
with an evil grin. He reached down and pushed the control surface that
released his duranium cup, and he let it float away toward the air duct.
Released from its armor, Brock's cock grew to full size instantly. And as
Rod knew from the incident in the restroom, it was not in any way small.

Brock levered himself up using the ropes that bound Rod's hands until his
cock was even with Rod's mouth. "Suck on it," he said. "It's all the lube
you're going to get."

Rod opened up and let Brock's big cockhead into his mouth. After the match,
it tasted like salt and sweat and jock. Rod inhaled deeply, taking the
scent of Brock's ball sweat into him, and tried to get the cock in his
mouth as slicked up as possible. Sooner than he would have liked, Brock
pulled his cock out and then pivoted over Rod's head. Rod felt him climb
down his back, and then felt a cock pushing up against his asshole.

Rod looked down and saw Brock smiling up at him from between his legs.
Brock had his legs around Rod's waist, giving him enough leverage to let
him push into Rod's ass, and he had Rod's legs under his arms, and he was
fucking Rod from beneath him.

Or, rather, Cody realized, from above him. Brock had tied him so his head
was toward the asteroid. From that perspective, Brock was towering above
him, framed against the rings of Saturn, and he was shoving his cock into
Rod's ass mercilessly.

Rod tried to push back with his ass and let Brock in, and Brock pounded his
cock into Rod's defenseless ass. He wore a snarl of triumph as he bottomed
out in Rod.

"You're a little loose, Hardy," Brock said. "I'll bring a friend next time."

"You've got friends?"

Brock growled and started slamming into his ass. Without lube it felt like
Brock was ramming him with a Deep Space Endurance Cutter. During re-entry.
Rod gritted his teeth and tried to tighten his ass around Brock's invading
cock, to see if he could get him off any quicker. He was uncomfortably
aware of his squad looking on as Brock laid claim to his butt. Rod's cock
was trying to get hard in its cup, but the plastisteel jock had conformed
to his junk the moment he put it on, and it allowed no room for expansion.

"You love this, don't you, Hardy?" Brock said. "Getting fucked by a real
spaceman."

"You're not a spaceman yet, Brock."

"Yeah, but I'm gonna be. And you're going to be a washout." Brock was
punctuating every few words with a savage thrust of his cock. "You know
why? Because you're not fit to be here, Hardy. You should be serving men
like me, not serving with them. You shouldn't be wearing those boots, you
should be licking them."

Rod tried to come up with a comeback, but there was a part of him that
thought exactly this. He loved the idea of being subjugated, being
commanded, being used. And what sort of officer dreams about being
tormented and abused by his superiors?

Except now he knew about Section D. Section D wanted him, not despite his
kinks and his orientations, but because of them. There was a whole section
of men like him serving honorably in the Guard.

Brock thought he was hitting a sensitive spot. As it turns out, he was, but
it was Rod's prostate that was being hammered instead of his self-image.
Rod's cock was begging for release.

"Brock, you're right," Rod said. "I should be training to worship you.
You're magnificent. And you fuck like a god. If my cock could get hard
right now, I'd be cumming."

"Seriously?" Brock said.

"Oh god yeah." Rod arched his back and writhed his hips, pushing back onto
Brock's manhood. "Such a huge cock."

Brock fumbled with Rod's cup a moment, and then Rod's cock was free and
lengthening while his cup went spinning slowly towards the air intake.

Now that his cock was free Brock's vengeful fucking turned out to be a lot
more enjoyable. Brock's thick cock pounding away at his ass was making his
own cock stand up and beg for attention. Rod decided that he might as well
have some fun.

"Oh, Brock," Rod said, "Oh, fuck me! Give me that manly cock! Ram it into
me!"

"Oh, yeah." Brock didn't pause in his furious thrusting. "You love this."

"Hell yes," Rod said, trying to pull Brock's manhood into him with his ass.
"Give me that big cock, spaceman!"

A look of angry determination came across Brock's face, and his hips
started thrusting mechanically, relentlessly, pistoning his cock into Rod's
ass with such force that he was gyrating wildly in his bonds. He could see
his squadmates in the bubbles around them, all their eyes on him as Brock
fucked the hell out of him. Rod pulled at the tethers on his wrists and
ankles to try and stabilize himself as the bully's cock pounded into him.
At this angle it was punching his prostate hard with every thrust.

"Now. You. Know." Brock said, each punctuation mark a savage thrust into
Rod's ass, "Who's. The. Better. Man!"

And with the exclamation mark he shoved his cock deep into Rod and his
whole body spasmed as he came.

Feeling Brock's seed fill him up, wrapped in Brock's arms and legs, tied in
the middle of the clear crystal bubble, Rod Hardy came. His back arched,
his ass clenched, his limbs strained at their bonds as his seed boiled up
and out of him, shooting out of his cock to form milky bubbles that went
floating about.

Rod watched one drift past his nose lazily. Then he re-focused on the
motion behind it, and realized it was his squad. In the bubbles around
theirs, the rest of their squad was cheering as loud as they had when Brock
had beaten Rod at wrestling.

Then Rod realized he could hear them. "What the hell?" he said.

"I hope you don't mind," Brock pulled out of Rod's ass and did a back-flip
which landed him next to the hatch. "I opened up a comm channel so they
could hear what you were saying. It reflected pretty well on me, I thought."

"Nice. Nice move." Rod pulled at his bonds.

Brock opened the hatch, and then reached over and unhooked a tether from
the dome, freeing Rod's left hand. "Try not to wash out too soon, Hardy. I
want to get another shot at that ass."

"Try not to let your head get too big for your helmet." Even Rod had to
admit it was a pretty weak retort. He got himself untied, and then spent a
couple of minutes stowing the tethers and making sure the bubble was
cleaned up.

When he opened the hatch, he heard the unmistakable sound of Company
Commander Whuckles's voice below.

"-an entire squad going AWOL in the middle of the night, abandoning your
post, derilection of duty... do you think this is funny, Cadet?"

Rod could envision the redness of the Chief's cheeks, the spittle flying as
he berated whichever of his unfortunate colleagues had the misfortune to
smirk. Rod hung in the bubble, reluctant to give up weightlessness and
rejoin his comrades, especially given his lack of clothes. He paused for a
moment to listen. They'd notice he wasn't there soon enough, and someone
would come get him. He'd get in about as much trouble for dropping into
Chief Whuckles's speech late anyway.

And a few moments later, the Chief ordered the squad to move out.

Rod waited a moment until the sound of marching feet retreated, and then he
dropped down into the locker room. He ran to his locker and got into his
pants and boots, and then sprinted after his squad, putting on the rest of
his uniform as he went. He caught up to the squad just as they were getting
back to barracks. He rounded a corner and rejoined his squadmates as they
were forming up, and was greeted with the sight of Brock Gomez out front of
the squad, dressed in just his boxers and boots.

Smitty looked over and noticed Rod now in formation next to him. "You
should have just snuck into the barracks and claimed you were asleep," he
said. "If we're lucky, we're in for a punishment detail that'll leave
scars."

Rod shrugged and got into formation. Chief Whuckles paced slowly up and
down the ranks a few times, then paused at the end of the formation and
stared at Cadet Efrek for a moment. The big Hathorian cadet somehow managed
to stay completely still and wither completely at the same time. Without
saying a word, the Chief turned and paced up and down again. His face was
red, his eyes were bulging out, and he looked as if he was about to explode
at any moment.

He stopped, turned, and exploded. "Desertion of duty. Leaving your posts.
Disobeying orders. All while Dr. Scurrilous has been sighted in the area!
You Spavian sea slugs are so close to getting tossed out of the Guard on
your miserable asses right now." He turned on Brock. "What in the spiral
arm do you think you were doing, breaking into a closed facility after
hours?"

"Sir, practicing, Sir!" Brock said, his eyes straight ahead.

The company commander strode over and put himself directly in Brock's
eyeline, about two inches from his nose. "Practicing with whom, Gomez?"

"Sir, no-one, Sir!"

"A little alone time in your wrestling gear?" Chief Whuckles yelled. "Who
were you wrestling?

"Sir, no-one, Sir!"

"If you're so dedicated to your physical fitness, why don't you lead the
company in a few exercises before bed?" Chief Whuckles advised the
nearly-naked cadet, his voice a stunning roar.

"Sir, yes Sir! Company! Planks!" In just his boxers and boots, Brock led
the cadets through a grueling series of exercises. Chief Whuckles prowled
the company, looking for any examples of bad form or less than enthusiastic
shouting.

Rod tried to keep his eyes straight ahead during the exhausting workout,
but he couldn't help seeing Brock in his peripheral vision. Brock's boxers
didn't fit very well, so on occasion his cock would flop out into full view
of the company. Rod could see the blush start at Brock's hairline and work
its way down from there, but his form stayed perfect and his voice stayed
strong. He only tucked his junk away when the set of jumping jacks was over.

Chief Whuckles had Brock work them out for over half an hour, by which time
Rod's body felt like a robot he was controlling from a very long way away.
He was getting signals that he was in pain, that he needed rest and food,
but they didn't seem extremely relevant to him. He went through the
overly-familiar exercises, and then when they were ordered to hit the rack,
he marched off. His only concern, after everything he'd been through that
day, was how he smelled.

He needed a shower badly. He was relatively certain that very few cadets in
the history of the Academy had needed a shower quite as much as he did at
the moment. He half expected to trigger biohazard alarms at any moment.

So when he snuck out of his rack half an hour after lights-out, it was
justifiable. Or so Rod told himself.

Cadet Efrek was on watch, and he stopped Rod silently and gestured him back
to the barracks, a stern look on his face.

Rod just raised one arm, and wafted a bit of his body odor toward the
cadet. Efrek looked stunned a moment, then gestured Rod toward the showers.
Rod did a little bow of thanks, and then scuttled off to get himself clean.

The water was almost intolerably hot. Most showers during boot camp were
fifteen-second affairs, an industrial process where hot studly spacemen
were moved quickly through a regular maintenance routine. Rod took the rare
opportunity to enjoy the water as it cascaded over his skin. He ran his
hands over his ass, marveling at how smooth and flawless his skin was after
this morning's caning. Dr. Goins sure knew his stuff.

At the thought of the buff doctor Rod's cock instantly got harder than a
deflection shield. Rod wondered for a moment whether the Doctor had somehow
conditioned him to get aroused at the thought of him. It seemed very much
like something Dr. Goins would do. Rod resolved to ask him about it
sometime.

So that was why, when Thomlin and Efrek and Tiyamike rounded the corner
that led to the showers, Rod's cock was standing straight and proud out in
front of him while he was fondling his ass with a faraway look in his eye.

"See?" Thomlin said, "I told you he'd want some more."

"Oh, hi guys," Rod said. "What's up?"

"Well, I was watching Brock fuck you in the bubble, and I was thinking I
might want a ride," Thomlin said. He peeled off his t-shirt, leaving him in
just his shorts. Rod could see the bulge of Thomlin's cock outlined in
fabric, and it was big. And growing.

"Guys, it's been a long day, and I just want to shower and-"

Thomlin grabbed Rod's cock. "And what, Hardy?"

"Um... what are you guys here for?" Rod asked the other two cadets, who
were standing by the doorway. Efrek was still in uniform, since he was on
watch, but Tiyamike was in pants and boots, but no shirt.

"They're here to hold you down if you struggle," Thomlin said. He shoved
Rod up against the duranium wall and put his mouth up to Rod's ear. "I
figured you liked it rough. If you don't want to do anything, just say
'escape pod'."

Rod looked over at the two strapping young cadets. Thomlin he'd had the
hots for since he'd joined his unit, but he hadn't noticed Efrek or
Tiyamike much in the sea of good-looking cadets. He saw now that that had
been a reprehensible oversight. Cadet Efrek was a long, lean, muscular
Hathorian, with the characteristic short blue fur and distinctive head
ridges. The Academy had toned his muscles well enough that his definition
was visible even under his fur. He smiled at Rod, and flicked his
prehensile tongue at him playfully.

Rod knew Cadet Tiyamike's big black slab of a body well from the wrestling
bubbles, but he'd always wondered what he was packing under his wrestling
cup. Tiyamike cracked his knuckles as Rod looked him over.

"Look guys, maybe some other time-" Rod said, stroking his cock.

Thomlin slammed him up against the shower wall. "We're horny now."

Efrek and Tiyamike were across the room in a flash, and they grabbed hold
of Rod's arms. Rod struggled, but the Hathorian's grip was aided by the
rough pads on his palms and fingers, and Tiyamike's hands were just plain
huge. They had him by the wrists and elbows, and had him pinned up against
the wall.

Thomlin was still chest-to-chest with him, almost nose-to-nose. "Scream and
you'll regret it." He grabbed Rod's balls and squeezed. "Don't make a
sound, Hardy."

Rod gritted his teeth and tried to free his arm from his comrades' grip as
Thomlin increased the pressure on his balls. He tried to bring a knee up
into Thomlin's crotch, but Thomlin blocked it and squeezed harder. The pain
in Rod's balls was incredible, overwhelming as he fought against his
captors, but Thomlin wouldn't relent. Finally, just when Rod knew he was
going to scream and wake up the whole barracks, Thomlin let him go.

"Get him down on the ground," Thomlin said. "I'm gonna fuck him."

Efrek and Tiyamike pulled Rod off the wall and shoved him down onto the wet
duranium floor. Rod could feel the water cascade over his ass as his
comrades pinned him down so he was helpless, his ass exposed.

Thomlin walked around in front of him, so Rod was looking at his broad bare
feet, wet and slick on the shower floor. "Good thing you like it rough,
Hardy," he said. "All three of us are going to try to fuck you until you
scream. And you're not leaving here until all of us have gotten off."

A sudden image of the file folder on Captain Stern's desk flashed across
Rod's mind, along with the 97.5% sub rating it had showed for him. If the
shoe fits, Rod thought, worship it.

"Guys... no, please. Guys, don't..." Rod pleaded weakly from the floor
while Thomlin went around behind him and lined up his cock with Rod's
asshole.

"Shut him up," Thomlin growled.

Efrek picked up Thomlins soaked shorts from the shower floor and shoved
them in Rod's mouth. Rod was genuinely disgusted for a moment, thinking
about all the dirty feet of the cadets who showered in this room, all the
times they'd pissed in here just to save a few seconds while showering.
Then Rod noticed his cock was fully deployed and ready for action. So maybe
he wasn't completely disgusted.

He thrashed on the wet floor and tried to pull free of the strong cadets
holding him down, but he didn't have a chance against them. He felt Thomlin
behind him, the big bulbous head of his cock at Rod's asshole. Thomlin's
cock, Rod knew from long weeks bunking next to each other, was long and
slender, with a big head that poked out of its foreskin when he was
sleeping.

That cock was now on the verge of invading Rod's ass. Rod tried to brace
himself as Thomlin speared into him, the water from the showerheads his
only lube. Rod tried to scream through his soaked gag as Thomlin rammed
into him, tried to pull away from the arms holding him down, but there was
no escaping the cock that was battering his ass. Thomlin was fucking Rod
like he had a drill instructor yelling at him to hurry the fuck up. Rod
felt the long cock deep inside him, pounding his guts, making his cock
harder with every thrust.

Then Thomlin arched his back, let out a low moan, and pounded into Rod for
all he was worth as his seed jetted out of him into the young cadet's ass.
He kept slamming into Rod fast as he came, until he ended with one titanic
thrust that caused Tiyamike to lose his hold on Rod's arm.

Rod was hardly able to take advantage of the opening, though. He was
stunned on the shower floor, Thomlin's cock still buried within him. He
scrabbled feebly for purchase with his hands and knees on the slick surface
as Thomlin pulled out of him and gave his ass one last smack.

"Not bad. Who wants him next?" Thomlin asked.

"I'll take him," Tiyamike got up and dropped his pants. "I've wanted to
fuck that ass every time I've wrestled him."

Rod made a mental note that zero-G wrestling turned on Cadet Tiyamike as
much as it did him, and then he went back to worrying about his ass. While
Thomlin's cock was long but skinny, Tiyamike was sporting a boner that
looked like the barrel of a phase cannon. He gulped and hoped that Thomlin
left plenty of cum in him to lube the way for the big black cadet.

"Flip him over," Tiyamike said, and grabbed Rod's legs. Before Rod knew it,
he was being turned over. Tiyamike knelt between his legs and pushed them
back over Rod's head. "Here, hold these."

"Sure." Efrek grabbed Rod's ankles, and then looked down at Rod and smiled.
He pulled the gag out of Rod's mouth and tossed it aside. Then he sank
slowly to his knees.

Rod watched the blue furry ass descending towards his face as Tiyamike's
cock started barging its way into his ass. And barging was an apt term
here. Rod felt like a system patrol cutter was in the process of docking
with his ass. He tried to will his ass to stretch itself to accommodate the
big black cock, but his mind was on the ass that was about to land on his
head.

The furry butt enveloped his face just at the same moment Tiyamike shoved
his way into Rod. Rod smelled sweat and soap and, strangely, cinnamon as
the ass cheeks settled around him.

"Lick it," he heard Efrek say. Under the furry blue buttocks, Rod shook his
head.

He felt Efrek grab his balls. "Lick my Hathorian asshole, Earthling scum."

Rod felt the pressure on his balls increasing again, and this time he was
vividly aware of how bad it was going to get if he held out. He tentatively
stuck out his tongue, and licked the Hathorian's crack, probing for the
asshole he was going to have to worship. He found it, a hot pucker that
felt for all the world like a human asshole, warm and wrinkled, but it
tasted... weirdly pleasant. Musky, spicy, enticing, and deeply sexual. Rod
licked at it a couple of times, then dove in.

Then he realized that Tiyamike had been busy pushing deep into his ass
while he was preoccupied. He felt Tiyamike's cock bottom out inside him,
and the big cadet paused for a moment. Rod's ass felt full to the point of
exploding. With his legs over his head, impaled on an enormous black cock,
tongue deep inside an alien's ass, Rod panicked a bit and started trying to
shove Efrek off of him. He felt someone, hopefully Thomlin, grab his wrists
and hold them over his head.

Tiyamike pulled his cock all the way out of Rod's ass, then slammed it back
into him. Then he paused. Then he pulled out, and slammed it back home. Rod
yelled into Efrek's ass, but to do that he had to pull his tongue out.
Efrek apparently didn't like that, because the pressure on Rod's balls
increased suddenly, sending pain shooting through him. He thrust his tongue
back into the furry blue ass just as Tiyamike slammed into him again.

He howled around his tongue.

"You guys want to hurry it up? Someone's going to miss us sometime soon,"
Thomlin said.

"Just because you rushed through your turn doesn't mean we have to," Efrek
said. "Besides, I like watching Tiyamike fuck. He's like a machine."

"Well, thanks," Tiyamike said, and doubled the pace of his assault. Now
Rod's ass was being brutally slammed by Tiyamike's enormous cock, it was
pounding him into submission. He tried to concentrate on shoving his tongue
into Efrek's furry ass, trying to get a good moan out of his squadmate as
he licked and sucked and probed.

Finally Rod felt Tiyamike's pace slow and his breathing start to get heavy.
Efrek pushed his ass down hard onto Rod's face as Tiyamike entered the home
stretch. Rod felt smothered by the ass above him, assaulted by the cock
within him, trapped by Thomlin holding his wrists, and frustrated that the
pain in his balls wasn't letting him orgasm.

And then Tiyamike launched a barrage of cum deep inside him, shooting load
after load with his huge cock buried deep within the struggling cadet. Rod
clenched his ass around the spasming cock and drove his tongue even deeper
into the Hathorian's ass above him. He was just about to cum himself when
Efrek squeezed his balls again, and Rod let out a frustrated groan into the
asshole he was tonguing.

Tiyamike pulled his cock out of Rod slowly, and Rod felt like he'd never
stop missing it. The emptiness it left behind was surprisingly vast. He
didn't have much time to think on it, though, because Efrek was getting up
off his face and positioning himself for the next crack at Rod's ass.

Rod blinked and breathed in fresh air for a moment, relieved to have his
face free of ass for the first time in what seemed like forever.

"Grab his arms, guys," Efrek said. "He's not going to like this."

Rod hadn't had a chance to check out Efrek's cock yet, but he figured after
Tiyamike's, there wasn't much he couldn't take. When he caught sight of
Efrek's cock, though, Rod realized he might have been very wrong about that.

Apparently, Hathorian cocks evolved a bit differently than Earthling cocks.
For one thing, they were a bit longer. For another, there were three bulges
along the length of Efrek's cock, each of which was a little thicker than
Tiyamike's cock had been. And the head was bigger still, a huge spearhead
poised at Rod's asshole.

Thomlin and Tiyamike had Rod's arms pinned to the slick duranium floor as
Efrek started shoving his way into Rod's ass. The huge cockhead pushed into
him pretty easily, since Tiyamike and Thomlin had opened the way and lubed
it up, but once the head was inside him, Rod felt his ass clamp down on the
taper behind it as if it was a buttplug. Then he felt Efrek pushing into
him again with the first bulge in his cock. It felt bizarre, too big, too
hot, too slick, too alien, and Rod looked up at the big Hathorian in awe.
This being from another star system, this blue furry spaceman, was taking
his Earthling ass with his alien cock, and there was nothing Rod could do
to stop him.

Efrek fucked the next bulge in his cock into Rod, then the last. He stayed
buried deep in Rod for a few moments, and Rod felt the cock pulsing within
him, moving slightly from side to side inside him. It seemed like it might
be prehensile, like Efrek's tongue. And Efrek wasn't fucking him, he had
just thrust his cock in to the hilt and stayed there.

Nothing at all happened for a moment. Tiyamike looked up at Efrek and
asked, "So... you gonna fuck him or what?"

"Nope," Efrek smiled, showing his broad flat teeth. "Just watch."

Rod squirmed in the grasp of his captors as he felt Efrek's cock twitch
inside him. Then he felt it pulse deep within his ass, flexing gently
against his prostate. Rod's cock twitched.

Then Efrek's cock started moving. From what Rod was able to figure out
later, each of the bulges in the Hathorian cock could swell, shrink, and
move about somewhat, and the whole length of the shaft was flexible and
controllable. Which meant that Rod's ass was being stimulated in ways he'd
never even been able to imagine. The cock inside him pulsed and throbbed,
vibrated and flexed, taking his ass in a way Rod had never even imagined
was possible.

All Thomlin and Tiyamike saw was Efrek closing his eyes, and then Rod
suddenly starting to writhe in their hands. They could barely hold him as
Rod thrashed about, moaning loudly. Tiyamike put one big hand across Rod's
mouth, trying to keep from alerting their whole squad to the gangbang
happening in the showers.

Inside Rod's ass, the Hathorian cock had set up a rhythm which was driving
Rod absolutely wild. The bulges in the cock were slamming into his prostate
repeatedly, while the whole cock flexed up and down sinuously, bringing Rod
closer and closer to orgasm. Rod's legs wrapped around Efrek's furry torso,
every muscle on his body standing out as he was pushed relentlessly towards
a climax.

Just as Rod was about to cum, Efrek started pulling out of him. As the
first bulge in the Hathorian cock passed through Rod's ass, he arched his
back, pulled against the cadets holding his arms down with all his might,
and came.

And just as he did, the next bulge in the brutal Hathorian cock was pulling
out of him, pulsing, and it seemed to make Rod's orgasm escalate, taking
Rod over the top yet again. As the third bulge came out of him, Rod became
aware that Efrek was shooting his load inside him, a hot torrent of alien
cum filling him up as the huge cock pulled out of him. Rod's orgasm peaked
again as the last bulge left him, making his cock spurt out whatever cum
his poor balls had left in them.

Then it was just the head of Efrek's cock inside him, the taper behind the
head of the cock causing Rod's ass to clamp down on it like a buttplug,
keeping it inside him. Rod felt the searing alien cum dammed up inside him,
the alien's cock twitching in his ass.

Efrek opened his eyes and smiled. "If we were mating, we would now be
joined like this for a solar day. But since this is just for fun..." He
pulled his cock out of Rod, and a flood of light blue cum gushed out of him
after it.

"Well, there's something you don't see every day." Thomlin let go of Rod's
arm.

"Unless you're on Hathor," Tiyamike said.

"Are you okay, Rod?" Efrek asked. He got up and offered Rod his hand.

"Umm... Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." Rod tried to sit up, but failed. "I think I
need a minute."

"All right, I'll get back to my post." Tiyamike was toweling off. "I'll let
you guys know when it's clear."

"So that's what sex is like for Hathorians, huh?" Rod asked.

"Sometimes." Efrek shook his fur dry. "We've got a lot of genders, so
there's a lot of variety."

"How many genders exactly?" Rod said, gingerly getting to his feet.

Efrek considered. "Thirty-four. Depending on who you ask."

"So are you, you know, a guy?" Thomlin asked.

"Mostly." Efrek pulled his shirt on. "Depending on who you ask."

Tiyamike waved to them from the doorway, and Thomlin headed back to his
bunk. Efrek was about to go, but paused to look back at Rod. "Are you
really okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Rod said. "That was one of the most incredible things I've ever
experienced."

"Let me know if you ever want me to show you how to eat an ass out right."
Efrek grinned, licked his eyebrow, and left.

Rod finished showering, went to bed, and was woken up three hours later by
the blast of a recorded bugle and the vast roar of their company commander
at full blast.

"Company! Spacesuit drill! Now now NOW!"

Rod scrambled out of his bunk and raced for the spacesuit lockers. Around
him cadets in various states of undress were either already running, or
they were struggling to get out of their bunks while being berated by Chief
Whuckles at an astonishing volume. Rod made it to the comparative safety of
the spacesuit bay and started suiting up immediately. He was pretty sure he
was getting close to beating his thirty-five second record when Chief
Whuckles herded the rest of the cadets into the bay, braying commands at
them deafeningly. Rod got his helmet on and the gaskets sealed as quickly
as possible, for the sake of his ears.

He stood at attention while the last of the squad suited up, and then the
Chief called them all into formation. And then he had them move out behind
him at a fast march. In full spacesuits.

It quickly became apparent that, while spacesuits were designed to keep
their occupants at the perfect temperature and hydration levels in nearly
any conditions, there was nothing built into the suit that made it easier
to carry around at one full G. It weighed, Rod recalled from his manuals, a
total of eighty-three pounds, including fully stocked air and water
supplies.

It also became apparent that Chief Whuckles, being unburdened by spacesuit,
was taking his sweet time getting to wherever he was going. The
barely-awake recruits followed him up ramps and across parade grounds, down
stairways and through halls that Rod was pretty sure had been abandoned
since the Academy was carved out of the rock. Rod wished he had enough
energy to pay attention, but it was all he could do to just keep moving
forward.

Finally, they arrived at the space gym. Chief Whuckles formed them up
outside the entrance to the giant dome, and got on the squad's comm channel.

His voice thundered out of the speakers in the spacesuit helmets with
perfect fidelity. Every cadet in the squad was treated to the sensation of
having Chief Whuckles yelling apocalyptically in each of their ears.
"CADETS! As you seem to have taken an interest in the sporting life, you're
going to help out my dear old alma mater by cleaning off the dome of the
space gym."

Rod barely suppressed a groan. He'd heard about this punishment. There were
stories that went around.

"Now, I know what you're thinking. Doesn't the forcefield around the
Academy also create a static field that repels any kind of dust or dirt?
Well YES IT DOES!" Chief Whuckles stalked up and down the ranks of cadets
as his voice rang in their ears. "But for some reason, that got shut off
last night, right about the time we were having our nice talk. So now
there's dust on our beloved dome, and we don't want that, do we?"

"Sir, no sir!" The squad chorused.

"So each of you will be given a rag, and you're going to go out there and
clean every single inch of the space dome. Oh, and I'm really sorry," the
Chief said.

Here it comes, Rod thought.

"The suction boots we'd usually use for this sort of things are all out of
order. A stunning and unfortunate coincidence. But we're not going to let a
little thing like that stop us. Squad, move out!"

As they filed to the airlock, the Chief handed each of them a small rag.
Rod had never seen Chief Whuckles so happy. It was deeply disturbing.

The diamond bubble of the space dome was a gently curving slope rising up
from the rock of the asteroid. Rod watched as the squad started scrambling
up it eagerly. He hung back a bit and waited.

The issue with cleaning off the space dome manually was that, with no
purchase on the sloping sides of the dome and almost no gravity, any false
move would send cadets sliding down it slowly but unstoppably. Any cadets
they hit on the way down would join them. The combination of a
nearly-frictionless surface and microgravity assured that the squad could
spend all day trying to clean the dome, but all they'd end up getting would
be a series of ridiculous slides down the dome, in full view of whoever was
watching from underneath.

And an audience was already starting to gather.

Rod hung back a while, until the first cadets tried to stop their upward
momentum unsuccessfully, and another couple started sliding down the dome.
He had the beginnings of a plan for organizing the unit to try and work
their way down from the top in relays of sorts, letting people fall and
having others take their place working the same piece of dome.

He was just about to open his mouth when Brock took over. Brock's plan was
to use the rope from their toolbelts to form a sort of human chain all the
way around the dome, cleaning as they went and retreating downward at an
even pace. They'd add in people as the circle got bigger.

Rod thought it was almost as good an idea as his own, so when the time came
he threw his support Brock's way. Soon they'd organized the group that was
going to ascend and start the first circle. Rod wasn't on it, but he was
organizing the second group to head up.

He had everyone ready, and he was tracking the cadets on the dome when he
caught sight of a glint of light off in the space beyond them. He cut in
the polarizer on his faceplate, but he couldn't make out more than a sliver
of light. He upped his magnification, and he thought he could just barely
make out the outline of a ship. It seemed pretty far away, though.

Rod quickly pulled up the station's manifest and checked what ships were
due in port today. There wasn't anything due until well after noon, and no
boats had been checked out of the gym either. Rod tapped into the station's
radar feed, but it was clear. The ship he was seeing didn't exist.

Which meant the one next to it now didn't either.

Rod opened a channel to his Company Commander. "Sir, Cadet Hardy reporting!
I have visual on unidentified craft at coordinates 8151.49 by 44081.6.
Request permission to abort mission."

He braced himself for the blast. "You will abort the mission when I say you
will abort the mission, Cadet! Get to work out there!"

"Sir, yes Sir!" Rod closed that channel, then opened a channel to Brock.
"Gomez, take a look up at 8100 by 44000. There's something weird going on."

"Get off the comms, Hardy." Brock closed the channel.

And the ships were getting bigger. But not that big.

Something in the back of Rod's brain was bugging him. He took a moment to
try to figure out what it was. It was something to do with the static field
that kept the dust from accumulating on the space dome.

And then Rod was sprinting up the dome as fast as he could go.

When he was about halfway up, he heard Chief Whuckles's voice boom out over
the comms. "ABORT MISSION! Get your asses back to the airlock on the
double! This is not a drill, this is an emergency, abort the damned
mission!"

The group of four cadets had almost reached the top of the dome, and Rod
could see them break their well-coordinated stride and start floundering.
They'd been slowing down as they approached the peak, but it was going to
take them a long time to stop and get turned around. And behind them, Rod
could make out the outlines of the ships he'd seen.

He got on the comm to Chief Whuckles. "Sir! Drones, Sir! I think they're
drones!"

The dome below him flashed red as the Academy went into red alert. Rod was
taking long, low steps, bounding over the surface of the dome, but he
wasn't going to make it in time. The static shield that kept the dust off
the dome was an integral part of the Academy's energy barrier. Without it,
the shields around the Academy would protect against solid objects, like
the meteors that rained down on them constantly. But it wouldn't protect
against energy weapons. And they couldn't switch on the static field
without liquefying anyone on the dome.

And those drones were lining up their shots.

Rod triggered the boosters on his space suit, and shot across the surface
of the dome. He hoped he'd calculated his trajectory right, but it wasn't
like he had any more time to do calculations. He just held his fists out in
front of him, opened his throttle up wide, and hoped.

Brock turned around just in time to see Rod hurtling at him, fists first,
and then Rod slammed into him at full speed. The force of the impact drove
Brock right off the dome, and he and Rod shot off into space. Then the
ropes that Brock had used to tether himself to the three other cadets
pulled taut, then yanked them off of the dome too. Rod kept his thrusters
going as he rocketed into space, his fists in Brock Gomez's gut.

He cut his jets when he saw the shield over the space dome flicker, and
then intensify. They had the static field up again, making the dome almost
invulnerable. Meanwhile, he and four really pissed-off cadets were floating
away from the Academy at a pretty good clip.

Rod scanned around him for the drones, but was interrupted by a sharp blow
to his helmet. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Brock yelled over
the comms. "I'm gonna have your ass court-martialed for this! That was
assault!"

Rod finally got a glimpse of the drones that he'd spotted. They were
tearing away from the Academy at full speed.

And Chief Whuckles's voice had now overridden Brock's. "Hardy! Care to
explain why the station is on full red alert when no-one in their right
mind saw anything at all out there? And while you're at it, care to explain
why you're punching your fellow cadets?"

"Sir! No excuse, Sir!"

Rod supposed if he was going to join section D, punching Brock in the guts
was as good a way as any to get in.

__________________________

Let me know what you think. avunculous@gmail.com