Rod Hardy of the Galactic Guard

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