Disclaimer: This story deals with mature subject matter and involves intimate gay sex. If it is illegal for you to read such material, due to your age or location, then please don't. If you are offended by acts of sexuality between consenting and non-consenting adults, then Do Not Read this story.
The author does not necessarily condone or subscribe to the behavior discussed in this story. It was written strictly as a form of entertainment and acts described should not be attempted by anyone that does not know what the hell they are doing. Any similarity with existing persons would be accidentally as the whole story is pure mad fantasy.
Introduction:
After the final sequel to "Teaching Big Bro A Lesson", many readers demanded the story to go on (thank you!), but I definitely didn't want to go on rather than to write about some other strong but hapless guys, like "Jack in the Box". Well, after a while there were some new ideas materializing and so "The Mission" was borne. If you don't know both stories, which are published at www.nifty.org, this one might be confusing -- but if you did like them, you will meet some good `ol friends in
The Mission (Part 1)
The muscular body collapsed in a puddle of cum. Guttural grunts mixed with pathetic moans of both pleasure and utter shame filled the room. Grinning soldiers dressed in the Red Guard's uniform lifted the hunky body and put the butt-naked semi-conscious marine on display for the cameras. After the long transport in the confinement of the wooden container he was reduced to a smelly heap of sweaty muscle. The contorted reddened face looked exhausted and the unsteady eyes were unable to focus on the stunned audience. The strong jaws were unshaved and his greasy hair tousled. Just his dog tags and the USMC tattoo identified him as the strapping Captain of the US Marine Corps he had once been.
He felt weak and dead tired. There was still some of his once proud spirit left; however, this gave no comfort to the Captain. On the contrary: Helpless, locked away far in the back of his drugged and reprogrammed mind, his own man's ego had to witness his very on humiliation. His fist was gliding mechanically up and down his swollen dick, now slippery from his own man juice. The grayish slime was drooling between his fingers, while his left hand was cupping his balls. The delirious man was obviously trying to stimulate himself by pushing a finger up his ass forcing the meaty butt cheeks apart.
His strong rebellious mind mustered some tiny attempt of resistance, but than he found himself mesmerized by a pair of dark, black eyes. Colonel Kim whispered hardly audible, however, the order materialized crystal clear in the captive's strangled mind. The moaning increased when the man's strong hands milked his mangled cock. His trembling body went rigid. A little pleading moan escaped from his lips. Then his small hips bucked in a frenzy while spurt after spurt of his semen splattered on the floor in front of him. Finally his head lolled back and he sagged in the arms of his sneering captors.
The picture on the wide plasma screen froze.
"Fuck!" Sergeant Dwight Collins felt his dick twitching. The 25-year-old blonde buzz cut marine was turned on although he didn't like it. He was openly gay, but he felt embarrassed about getting aroused by the humiliation of the captive comrade soldier.
"It's outrageous! Sergeant, we have to bring this boy home; our asses are on the line as well!!" Major O'Rourke was fuming.
Dwight studied the file the officer had thrown on the conference table. The photo showed the captured hunk as a brawny USMC MP Captain with a cocksure grin, dark blonde crew cut hair. The file said that Captain Chet Durango was 34-year-old, 6.1 feet weighing 190 lbs. The Captain had been abducted from the US-Base `Camp Tango' at the demilitarized zone separating South Korea from the hostile regime in Pyongyang. The experienced well-trained fighter had somehow been overpowered by a significant smaller Korean opponent whom he had apprehended earlier at Camp Tango for spying on TCUs. The TCUs were a highly-sophisticated computerized target acquisition system, which was said being capable to take down short range and even medium range missiles.
Details were unknown but fact was: A unit of the TCUs was missing and the hapless Captain Durango had been displayed in a most embarrassing way to the international media as a captured American spy.
Since then, almost 7 months had past and the Captain had disappeared. Diplomatic efforts for his release had failed. Now US counter intelligence had managed to find a trace of the missing soldier.
"Our boy his held somewhere in the West of the country. South of Nampo in a fucking village Suyang-dong in the Nine Moon Moutains area. It is the village where this Korean spy comes from. The bastard has been identified as Kim Nang Po. Kim is now a Colonel in the Research Department for External Intelligence. Here is the mother-fucker's photo!" the major tossed a photo on the table showing a lanky Asian, probably about 46-year-old.
"How did we get this photo?" Dwight raised his brows.
"You don't believe it," the Major snorted in open disgust," we trained that piece of shit at West Point! The brass calls it "cross-cultural de-escalation". Cross-culture fuck my arse! That's what we get for our generous de-escalation."
"So, what ...?" Dwight shot a questioning look to his superior.
"Hank is in Iraq and won't be back for at least 10 months," the Major's lips curled in a small devilish grin. "So - given the circumstances -- we will send a man who can handle a bunch of North-Korean fags, because ..."
"What?!" Dwight's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
" ... because he is a fag himself." The Major finished now with an undisguised sneer.
"B-but, but ... Sir ... I don't know Korea at all," Dwight sputtered.
"Bullshit Sarge, we will put an advisor at your side, " the Major walked around his desk and hugged almost cheerfully the obviously devastated soldier. Both knew each other very well. Dwight had saved O'Rourke 4 years ago, when a gang of drug dealing teenagers had almost managed to overpower the former Captain and seize the drugs confiscated at the base. The young Corporal had made a perfect career always supported by a grateful Captain O'Rourke who had been promoted Major since then.
"Dwight, I need you for that job. We can not risk sending in a ... hm ... straight squad. You know our guys. All fine soldiers and tough fighters, but if they see a chick and smell cunt they get controlled by their dicks. We know that the North-Koreans have specialized agents who are trained to seduce Westerners and who are only waiting for a squad of horny marines. You decide who will be on your team, take your time, I'll back you up and I'll get you someone who knows North-Korea as intimate as I know my wife's pussy." The Major laughed.
Corporal Thomas Dorset knew immediately that something had fucked up his Sergeant's day when Dwight entered his office fuming.
"Get me Master Sarge O'Dowerty," the Secretary was barked at.
"Yes Sir, Master Sergeant Hank O'Dowerty," Tommy rushed to his phone.
Static noise garbled the satellite phone connection, but Dwight recognized immediately Hank's drawling voice. Hank O'Dowerty was on a special mission in Northern Iraq, hunting insurgents. Since the incident with Taylor Henderson, the gang leader of the teens who had assaulted the base, Dwight and Hank had become close friends.
"You have to help me mate," Dwight was pleading. "Whom should I choose for that suicide mission?"
"Can't you wait `til I am back," Hank asked. The Master Sergeant stood bare-chested in his tent. Outside was a temperature of 47 0 C. Sweat was covering his muscle packed torso, while he downed an ice-cold can of Budweiser.
"No chance," Dwight replied," Ben wants me to go by next month already. I am screwed, man."
"Shit!" Hank tossed the empty can. "If I would be there, I'd try the Rowley brothers..."
"Are you kiddin' ?" Dwight jumped from his chair, almost dropping the phone.
Brock and Wade Rowley were an infamous legend at the base. The brothers were known as ferocious fighters. They had, however, never bothered about army discipline. Many times they had been involved in bar room brawls and beaten up MPs who had been trying to arrest the rampant bullies. Both were feared for their brutal sex and many men had been fucked raw during their orgies. The Rowleys fucked everything that couldn't fly away or climb on trees. When a General visited the base, they tag-teamed the General's wife and deflowered his daughter right in the back of a tank that was parading in front of the General. They hadn't expected that the General would want to inspect the tank and their time had come. They were dishonorable discharged from the corps. Brock -- as far as Dwight knew -- had found a job on with a construction company and Wade had spent a number of years behind county bars for assaulting a Sheriff.
"I know, but Wade and I get along quite nicely," Hank replied, "I might be able to talk some sense into this stupid shit-head. If Wade agrees, Brock will follow. The dumb oaf always does what his older brother tells him to do."
"I can give it a try," Dwight sighed.
"No you don't!" Hank warned. "Don't mess with these fuckers. Wait for me ..."
The line went dead.
"Fuck!" Hank cursed and smashed the phone in the sand. He turned around and glowered at the curly haired Arab who sat handcuffed on a chair. The stocky built insurgent gave him a defiant look. "Fuck you!" he spat the words with a heavy Middle-Eastern accent.
Hank gave him a devilish grin, unbuttoned his fly and pulled his cock out. The impressive man tool was already semi-erect and it took the 200 lbs muscle hunk just a few strokes to yank it at full attention.
Sudden panic showed in the eyes of the Arab.
"You were saying ...?" Hank growled, forcing the Arab's head back.
"Mmpfff ..." was all the captive could reply when 11 inches of hefty marine meat were shoved down his throat.
"Fuck!" on the other side of the globe Dwight cursed, banging the receiver down. There was a soft knock at the door.
"What?" the Sergeant shouted.
The door opened and a lanky, sinewy Asian man entered. He was in his early twenties, but Dwight was not so sure. He had trouble to guess the age of Asians anyway. The man was wearing a dark suit, white shirt and a dark blue tie. He bowed politely.
"Good afternoon Sir, my name is Choi Lee Kwan, I am your inter-cultural advisor", he said with a low voice, " Major O'Rourke sends me to assist."
"Fuck ...", Dwight muttered.
"Sir..?" Lee Kwan asked.
"Uhm ... good afternoon Mr. Choi, please have a seat," Dwight said.
"Please call me Lee, Sir, "the Asian replied friendly.
"Uh ... Dwight ... the name is Dwight," the Sergeant spluttered.
"Well certainly Sergeant Dwight ...," Lee started but was interrupted.
"Dwight ... just Dwight is fine," the marine said.
"Yes, certainly, Sir ..." he stopped when he recognized a painful expression in the American's face.
"Uhm, Dwight it is nice to meet you," Lee smiled. "I am from Korea, but I have been living in the USA since 15 years. Major O'Rourke told me you are traveling to Korea very soon?"
"Uh ... yes but, you know Lee, this is a bad moment, I have a lot of things to arrange. Can we meet, let's say tomorrow at 07:00 hours sharp?" Dwight asked.
"Certainly S.., Dwight, but the Major said ..." Lee was trying to say.
"Thank you, for your understanding, " Dwight said and opened the door.
Lee looked as if he wanted to object. His dark eyes were suddenly piercing into the Sergeant's blue eyes. Dwight narrowed his brows. There was something about this guy. He wondered what his instincts wanted to tell him when Lee had got up.
"See you tomorrow at 7 o'clock then," he smiled winningly, bowed again and left.
"Uuuphhh.." Dwight snorted. He hit a button at his phone.
"Tommy?" he asked.
"Yes Sir?" he heard the voice of his secretary.
"Get me Chuck and Mike but fast!" Dwight ordered.
"Yes Sir, Lance Corporal Riley and Private Johnson asap," Tommy replied.
Chuck Riley was 6.2 ft tall and weighed 205 lbs. Vigorous gym training had equipped the 26-year-old Lance Corporal with a gladiator's body. He was the undisputed Wrestling Champion of the base. Like many recon marines he had his blond hair cut to a stubble at the back and sides and tapered very closely on top with a runway in the middle going all the way to the back like a horseshoe resembling a Mohawk. The cocky muscle boy fucked a few chicks in town as part of his work-out routine, as he called it, but what he was really into were the mid-night wrestling bouts, were the loser got fucked until the winner shot his load. Chuck had quite a reputation for his sexual stamina. Being a total top he could fuck a guy for hours, without busting his nut.
Private Mike Johnson, 22 years old, 187 lbs. stood 5.8 ft tall. His ash blond hair was crew cut. Mike was sinewy built, but compared to the huge wrestler he looked almost lanky. Dwight knew better. Mike was a specialist in Martial Arts and even the hunky Chuck respected him. Besides, both marines knew each other since high-school already and were buddies since a long time.
Chuck and Mike were both shocked and furious when Dwight briefed them about Captain Chet Durango's abduction and ordeal.
"So you are in then?" Dwight asked.
"Yep!" the two marines replied unisonous.
"Time to kick some gook ass, but good!" Chuck added with a dangerous voice.
"Before we can do that, some training is required and we need to recruit some more crew members," Dwight told them. "Meet me tonight at 22:00 hours at the gate and no uniforms ..."
When he told them what he had planned they looked at each other, but then shrugged and nodded.
Dwight waited in his SUV in front of the gate. The engine was running. He was wearing a black biker jacket, a skin tight white T-Shirt, Jeans and heavy work boots. Soon Chuck and Mike appeared and hopped in the back of the car. Both were clad in black tank tops, black baggy gym trousers and sneakers.
"I've been told that Wade Rowley is off to L.A.. Usually Brock will then be out for hustling. Making a few bucks fuckin' some rich, pot-belly business men," Dwight explained while he drove off. "We wait until he is finished with his customer and take him down." He pointed to the back of the car to a gym bag.
Mike opened it and found pepper spray, hand cuffs and baseball clubs.
"Wow!" He hooted," that's some nice stuff for `da cavalry," he grinned and took the pepper spray.
Chuck grunted an approval and grabbed a baseball club. "That Brock needs to be taught a lesson. When I am through with that fucker he'll crawl up to da base all da way!" The brawny wrestler had a score to settle with Brock Rowley anyway, because Brock had deflowered Chuck's sister and dumped her on the same night. Now was the time to pay back.
The car's stereo was playing Hard Rock music while the SUV approached the city. Despite the risky task ahead the three men were joking. The air in the vehicle was soon filled with musky male perspiration mixed with the scent of the leather seats on which they were lolling.
Finally the three marines arrived in downtown. They headed straight to the "Pink Cock", a gay bar, where the Rowley brothers were usually hanging out.
"Bingo!" Dwight said and pointed to the bar at a muscle-packed giant of a man, about 30 years old, 6.4 feet tall. Brock Rowley was wearing a pair of faded work-jeans with ripped holes at the knee caps and a red and black checkered work shirt with cut off sleeves. The shirt was open half-way down to his waist, exposing a thick mat of dark curly hair that covered the barrel chest. Huge tattoos covered both arms from the shoulders, along the chiseled biceps down to the wrists. The wavy dark brown hair was tamed by a red and white bandanna.
Brock was having a beer with a chubby man, approximately in his early 40ies, with thin strawberry blond hair, wearing a business suit and a tie. Darren Orchard, a sales agent from Ohio was a well-off family man. He had a lovely wife who had born him two lovely daughters. Yet Darren was looking for a kind of fulfillment his family could not offer. Since high-school he had felt attracted to men. He was in particular into beefy athletes like the members of the football team or the wrestling squad. Being a pot-bellied bookworm, these dream men were clearly out of his reach. Even during his college time he never got more excitement but to offer a few blow jobs.
This had changed since he was in a position to buy him some hunky lovers. In the end brain was mightier than brawn and Darren had learned quickly that a few bucks could win him the attention he had been longing for. Whenever he was on a business trip he visited a raunchy gay bar and picked up his beefy prey.
This evening he had been sitting at the counter nervously cleaning his glasses, when a huge guy addressed him. Brock, as the construction worker had introduced himself, was keen to make some quick bucks. He had guessed why Darren was visiting a place into which he definitely did not belong. The snug salesman was excited that the impressive hunk had offered to suck Orchard off for a hundred bucks. Darren couldn't believe his luck to find such a gorgeous piece of man-meat willing to give him head so easily.
"Look at this pathetic weakling," Chuck mocked pointing with his head towards the flabby businessman," he is a borne loser. I can't fuckin' believe that a man like Brock does even talk to this nerd." The marines were sipping their beer and waited for an opportunity to strike.
"Sergeant Dwight, what a pleasure." A familiar voice greeted Dwight from behind. Turning around the startled marine recognized the Korean who had visited him in the morning.
"Who is that gook," Chuck muttered loud enough for Lee to understand.
"This is, well, our inter-cultural advisor, Mr. Chow ..." Dwight spluttered.
"Choi Lee Kwan," Lee corrected with a polite smile," but Lee is fine."
Lee looked definitely different then in the morning. He was wearing jeans, sneakers and a skin tight marine-blue T-shirt revealing his sinewy torso contradicting the nerdy impression he had made during his visit at Dwight's office.
"Uhm ... Lee, these guys are Chuck and Mike," Dwight introduced his buddies to the Korean who took his sun-glasses off.
"Pleased to meet you," Lee nodded.
"You like a drink?" Mike asked.
"Bourbon would be nice," Lee replied.
"I ... I didn't expect you in a gay b ... uhm in a place like that," Dwight was still trying to catch his balance.
"Well off-duty, we can enjoy our life, isn't it," Lee grinned casually putting his arm around Dwight's waist.
"Y-yeah sure," Dwight looked at Lee openly confused. Chuck and Mike were grinning. Dwight didn't know what to do. They were here to take on Brock Rowley and now he was hit on by an Asian, whom he didn't even know for a day.
"Uhm ... excuse me, I've to take a leak," the Sergeant wriggled from Lee's embrace and turned towards the toilets.
Chuck and Mike were snickering. Dwight was usually not shy and to see him in a predicament was a rare moment.
"You know, there is a dark room over there as well, if you want some privacy ..." Mike told Lee with a vicious grin.
"Thank you, that's good advise," Lee put his dark glasses on, grinned at the two marines and walked across the bar room.
"Well -- I guess, that leaves the two of us to have a date with Brock," Chuck grinned.
"You have a problem with that?" Mike asked.
"Me?!" Chuck raised his eye-brows, "Are you joking? I could handle that fucker on my own."
"Big mouth," Mike laughed.
When Dwight left the toilet he heard a low whistle from the dark room, despite the loud music. Surprised he recognized Lee leaning against the wall, apparently waiting for him.
"Lee?! What ...?" Dwight asked. With amazing power Lee seized the Sergeant by the shoulders, pulled him around and pushed him against the wall.
"W-what ...?" Dwight stammered.
"Being an American you are quite bashful, Mr. Dwight," Lee said and stripped the biker jacket from Dwight's shoulders. He unbuttoned the marine's jeans and sled his hands under the T-Shirt. Dwight was pulled into a kiss and while his jeans traveled down to his ankles he felt two hands squeezing deftly his bare buttocks. That did it.
"Being an Asian you are quite straight-forward, Mr. Lee." Dwight pulled the Asian into a firm embrace and soon the two men were sinking down on one of the black leather couches increasingly unaware about what was going on around them.
Lee was sitting straddled on Dwight's groin. Pulling the T-Shirt over his head he moved his hips seductively back and forth. Dwight's cock expanded rapidly when the fabric of Lee's jeans was rubbing alongside the impressive shaft. In the dim light Dwight recognized a dragon tattoo on Lee's right pecs and a sun tattoo circling his belly button.
Lee smiled down on the beefy Sergeant. His hands covered for an instant Dwight's firm pectorals. The soldier's man tits responded promptly when the Asian rubbed the fleshy knobs between his thumbs and index fingers. Lee bent down on Dwight and started to lick the marine's throat.
"Ohh ... yeah ... that feels good ...", a soft moan escaped from Dwight's mouth. His eyes were halfway shut and his hands were caressing Lee's back and shoulders.
"You like it?" Lee whispered into Dwight's ear.
"Yes .. I like it," Dwight's back arched with pleasure when Lee was nibbling at his earlobes. All the while Lee's hips were rubbing and undulating across Dwight's groin keeping him hard and turning him on.
"Mmmhhhh ...' Lee's tongue slipped snake-like inside his mouth and played with his own tongue. Both men were heavily breathing by now.
Entranced by Lee's stimulations, Dwight had completely forgotten about Chuck and Mike and why they had come to this place. Realizing that Lee was still half clothed he decided, he had to become more active. Otherwise he wouldn't last very long under the Asian's expert stimulations. However, as if he had anticipated what the American intended to do, Lee broke the kiss and kneeled above the Sergeant's head. The Korean bent down and kissed Dwight's face. The touch of the lips was soft and warm and when Lee teased Dwight's lips with his tongue, the marine threw his arms up and pulled the Asian down into a passionate kiss. While his tongue was massaging Dwight's, Lee unzipped his jeans and produced his hardened 7 " cut dick. He wriggled from Dwight's embrace and fed his boner brazenly to the marine who parted his lips in surprise. Lee made sure that the American was in sucking position nicely secured between his thighs and let his body fall heavily on Dwight's torso into a sixty-nine position.
Dwight's 8,5" cut dick was quite hefty. His lovers often had trouble taking the meaty shaft all the way down the throat when giving head. But Dwight was up for a surprise. The Asian swallowed his man tool without any hesitation. He even managed with an amazing technique to take one of Dwight's nuts inside his mouth too.
A tingling sensation was spreading through the marine's body spreading from his balls into his groin and then heating up his entire hunky frame. There was a finger poking at his puckered hole and before he even knew it, he had willingly dropped all defenses and relaxed his sphincter eager to receive his anal massage.
Lee's body seemed to be glued onto the marine stud. Both men were grunting, slurping and sweating. Several times Lee was almost thrown off, when Dwight tried to rear up and to get in top position. But with a firm grip around the aching balls and his finger deep-probing the hot ass channel he managed to quell any of Dwight's attempts of rebellion.
Dwight's hands were feeling their way towards Lee's ass crack, but before he could part the firm butt cheeks and retaliate, the Asian started to hump his face and to fuck his mouth in earnest. All that Dwight could do was to relax his throat and lubricate the hammering dick. Lee sensed quickly that he had a price to pay for his boldness. His abs went into shuddering spasms and he knew he was close. Regretfully he released the juicy marine pole.
Dwight sensed in surprise that his throbbing dick was released from the sucking embrace and wondered what the Korean was up to do now. A moment later his whole body was zapped by a pleasure surge. Lee had stretched the cock shaft deftly making the saliva covered mushroom head ballooning hard and crimson red. The Korean held the stud's twitching shaft firmly at the base and squeezed it down into the churning nuts. Pre-cum was oozing.
"Nnnnngh ... urggh," Dwight's mouth closed in desperation around Lee's pulsating dick.
Lee felt his climax irreversibly triggered. His face contorted in ecstasy and then he pointed his lips and put a very soft, velvet-like kiss on the swollen helmet licking the glistening drop from the gaping piss slit. That did it.
"Urggh! Ahhh!" both men were writhing and hollering. Lee's face was suddenly covered by Dwight's jets of man juice and the Sergeant's mouth and throat were flooded with Lee's hot cum. Lee moved around and looked at Dwight. Cum was sipping from the corners of the marine stud's mouth and cum was slowly drooling down Lee's cheek and dripping from his chin. Both men started laughing. They embraced each other and lay huddled exchanging passionate kisses.
(... to be continued)