Forceful Alphas – Page 2

Comrades in the Dark

Antonov is at a workcamp in Siberia, where he shares a bunk with the hairy brute Yuri. When Yuri’s hands get to roaming at night, it results in a no-holds-barred explosion of nighttime desires and sexual satisfaction!

Can Antonov make it through the night?

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Antonov didn’t regret coming to Siberia, at least not yet, though he couldn’t think of anything but how comfortable his nice warm bed must be back in Rostov. This place, he thought, might as well have been a different world.
It wasn’t cold in his bed, and that was the worst part. The work barracks in the forested wasteland of southern Siberia were very cold. Antonov and his workmates all dressed in layers for bed, and Antonov had several heavy blankets atop him. He also wore a fur cap with ear flaps to keep his head warm.
But the reason Antonov was not cold was that he had to share this tiny bunk with Yuri, a massive beast of a man whose body heat and rather extensive hair provided plenty of warmth and insulation. That was why the worst part of his sleeping arrangements was how warm it was — Antonov would have rather been cold and trying to sleep as close to the fireplace as he could get. Instead he couldn’t sleep because he was desperate to be as far from Yuri as possible. The zesty funk of his armpits and back made Antonov’s stomach churn.
The bunk was too small to get very far away though. Yuri weighed down the mattress enough to cause a deep depression, into which Antonov continually sunk until finally he felt the fuzz of Yuri’s body hair, which made Antonov scoot back up the tiny distance between Yuri and the edge of the bed. That happened several times until Antonov gave up.
Then Yuri rolled over. Before Antonov knew what was happening, he found his face wedged in the meaty space between Yuri’s right pec and armpit. He got a mouthful of body hair. Yuri’s massive cock flopped out of the fly of his long underwear, which he had pulled down to masturbate earlier — Yuri had no compunctions about jacking off in the bed next to Antonov, groaning and moaning the whole time, letting his arm hair rub on Antonov’s face. He saw this as reasonable behavior because he cleaned up the jizz on his belly with a sock, which now lay congealing on the floor.
That was why his longjohns were down when he rolled over, and that was why his fat cockshaft smacked onto Antonov’s thigh.
“Psst… Workmate… Hey, Yuri, comrade, wake up… Move over,” Antonov whispered. Yuri didn’t move. Antonov didn’t want to make a big scene — he had known that workmates at remote camps like these became used to each other’s nudity in close quarters. His father had warned him of that, and Antonov didn’t want to look like a prude.
His father had also warned him about certain other behaviors such workmates partook in. Antonov was very worried about that. It seemed that, in the absence of women — and of light, in the long Siberian winters — workmates often treated each other that way. That wasn’t allowed in Soviet Russia, but it was widely tolerated in all-male environments like this.
They jacked each other off, that was it. They used their mouths and maybe other orifices — Antonov wasn’t sure if he believed in the existence of sodomy, it seemed unlikely and disgusting, but he didn’t say so lest he look like a fool if it turned out to be real.
So Antonov always knew it was possible that something would happen, and he was willing to accept it. Once he did his time here at the workcamp in Siberia, his family would receive extra rations. He knew he could accept anything for a chance at a better life for his family.
One of Yuri’s giant meaty hands landed on Antonov’s chest. Was he awake now? It seemed not, but Antonov had a feeling he was. Was this how it happened? Antonov’s father had said that they traded mouths in the bathing-tent, but those tents here were tiny, barely big enough for one person much less two, so they always bathed alone, using a sponge and a bucket of warm water. Maybe things had changed since Antonov’s father was a working man.
That massive paw moved. It slowly stroked Antonov’s bare stomach, and Antonov sharply inhaled. Was Yuri asleep? It was possible that he thought Antonov was a girl. Maybe he was moving entirely on instinct?
But then Yuri’s hand moved all the way down to Antonov’s long underwear. It slipped under the fabric and, in one smooth motion, gripped Antonov’s dick before it slowly, haltingly gave it a single stroke.
The friction combined with the tension in the air to make Antonov bite his lip to stifle a moan of desire. His dick stiffened up beneath Yuri’s work-callused hands. The smell of Yuri’s body filled his nostrils, as every motion Yuri made reawakened a fresh wave of that masculine sourness.
“Yuri, I-” Antonov tried to speak, but he was stopped by Yuri’s other hand covering his mouth.
“Sssh…” was all Yuri said.
The other workmates in their bunks tossed and turned, snoring, coughing in the night, but no one seemed to be awake. Antonov gulped.
Yuri’s bearded mouth moved, kissing Antonov on the chest, through his long underwear. Then Yuri moved down Antonov’s smooth torso until he reached his crotch. Entirely under the covers now, Yuri pulled Antonov’s long underwear down, freeing his cock, which stuck straight up.
The erection was a surprise. Antonov did not realize he had a stiffy already.
This was not at all progressing how Antonov thought it would, but it was happening too fast for him to even think about responding. All he could do was submit. His father had not warned him it would be like this.
Yuri swallowed Antonov’s cock as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Antonov arched his back and gasped. He instinctively grabbed Yuri’s back, even though it felt off-putting for him to caress the strapping muscles of Yuri’s shoulders. Antonov had always been skinny — he often claimed he was stronger than he looked, but still, he was nowhere’s near as strong as Yuri — so he was awed by the sheer power he could sense in Yuri’s corded muscles. Yuri had been working as a builder on these remote worksites for years, and it showed in the thick, bulging muscles of his back.
The mouth was incredible. Antonov was so nervous he didn’t notice it right away, he just threw his head back and grunted. He couldn’t believe it, but this felt better than it had when he got a girl to suck him off. Yuri seemed to know exactly what to do.
The pleasure that wracked Antonov’s body was so all-encompassing that he completely forgot about his anxiety over the situation or his dismay at being forced to share a bed with Yuri, whom he now suspected no one else wanted to sleep with because he was so big and sweaty. That was why they made the new guy sleep with him.
Antonov couldn’t think too much about that in this moment. His mind was wracked by pleasure so intense it hurt. Antonov’s fingers gripped the thick mane of Yuri’s black hair, guiding his head up and down on his shaft. Yuri slathered spit as he moved. The moisture and the warmth sent a wave of sensations through Antonov’s body.
He suckled loudly and moistly on Antonov’s dick, like an expert, but since his head was under the covers, the sound wasn’t audible away from the bed — or so Antonov hoped. He didn’t want to acquire a reputation for this sort of activity.
But he wasn’t about to back out either. He had never experienced anything so incredible. He bit his lip and then buried his face in the meaty muscle of Yuri’s torso where Antonov could scream and grunt with the sound absorbed by Yuri’s solid body. Yuri’s head was all the way down on Antonov’s shaft, his face nuzzled in Antonov’s pubic hair, as Yuri’s thick fingers worked all the way up and down Antonov’s body.
An orgasm erupted suddenly within Antonov, who threw his pillow over his face to muffle the sound. He groaned and moaned as he sprayed his load into Yuri’s mouth. Yuri let out a moist gagging sound, and his throat rejected the cum that flowed down it. That caused a big load of jizz and spit to slip out of Antonov’s mouth, soaking Antonov’s hairy crotch and sticking to the bushy hair of Yuri’s beard.
Despite the awkwardness of the situation — or perhaps because of it — Antonov experienced an incredible climax. His toes curled, and his fingers tightened into claws that dug into the meat of Yuri’s broad back. His whole body tensed and shook as he filled Yuri’s mouth with wad after wad of creamy cum.
Yuri kept his head in place under the covers like a professional. Antonov could sense the distaste he had for cum, but he submitted to it as though he had done this on numerous occasions, which Antonov supposed he probably had. His father must have been right about these places.
“Sssh…” Yuri said, even though Antonov hadn’t made any noise. Then he loudly swallowed the mouthload of jizz he had. For a moment, he paused, and Antonov sensed him hold back a gag. Then Yuri said, “It is my turn.”
His eyes opening wide, Antonov oomphed as Yuri’s strong arms rolled him over. Antonov faced the raging fire in the fireplace, which kept him warm as the covers fell off him. Then Yuri pressed his big body atop Antonov’s back, his thick nest of chest hair helping to warm Antonov back up again.
But his body felt slick with sweat and cum and who knew what else. Antonov didn’t much like the sensation, and he wasn’t sure if he’d like what came next. His father had warned him of this as well.
Maybe, Antonov realized, sodomy was a real thing after all.
“You have pretty skin…” Yuri said. The words made Antonov’s skin crawl and gave him goosebumps.
But Antonov wanted to fit in among his workmates, and he was desperate to do whatever they did. It was clear that Yuri expected him to give up his ass for the night, and he was Antonov’s superior, so he could have made workcamp life difficult for him. That was why Antonov submitted as he lost himself in the iron-like firmness of Yuri’s arms.
So for now, he just had to submit and hopefully stay quiet enough that no one else woke up. He didn’t want anyone to know what he was allowing Yuri to do to him. Antonov held his breath as he felt that massive slab of Russian meat pressing at his asshole. He thought for sure it was entirely too big, there was no way he could ever take it inside him.
Almost as intense a sensation was the feeling of Yuri’s heavy body weighing down Antonov’s back. It was hard to breathe. Yuri took a deep breath, and Antonov could feel it in the expansion of Yuri’s hairy chest against Antonov’s back, which was bare and slickened with a layer of Yuri’s sweat.
“You’re a pretty boy,” Yuri whispered softly, right into Antonov’s ear. His voice was gravely and rough, and it made Antonov shudder. Yuri spat into the palm of his hand — the sound was impossibly loud since he was so close to Antonov’s face — and he wiped the spit off on his cockshaft.
Then his finger pushed into Antonov’s tight asshole. Antonov bit his lip and cringed as pain erupted inside him, followed only dimly, barely, but definitely, a little bud of pleasure. Yuri chuckled, again right into Antonov’s ear.
“Do not worry, little rose-blossom,” Yuri said. “I will be very gentle.” He kissed the back of Antonov’s neck and wrapped his muscular right arm around Antonov’s neck.
Antonov gulped and scrunched his eyes shut. He prayed that none of the other workmates woke up. He didn’t want them to see him like this. He tasted Yuri’s biceps and the thick hairs that lined his arm.
A sharp pain came on so suddenly that Antonov gasped. His mouth opened wide and filled with Yuri’s arm-flesh. He tried to move away but couldn’t — not because Yuri held him down, since he didn’t, but just because the sensation was so intense that Antonov could do little more than writhe in Yuri’s powerful arms.
“Ssssh, comrade… Bite me if it hurts, that is alright,” Yuri said. He kissed the back of Antonov’s head again, and he even licked his skin there. He sucked on Antonov’s earlobe. “Hmm, my little rose-blossom. I will make your asshole my pussy.”
As his cockmeat shoved into Antonov’s ass, Yuri growled like a bear. Pleasure surged in Antonov’s body. Clenching his teeth, Antonov held his breath, the pain so incredible he thought for sure he was being torn in two.
But he couldn’t deny that behind it all was a faint sense of pleasure, which grew stronger and stronger with every thrust of Yuri’s cock inside him. He still hadn’t quite gotten every inch of his meat inside Antonov though, and he kept spitting in his palm to use as lube. Each time he did, Antonov could hear him spit so loud it was like a deafening roar, it felt like he spat on Antonov even though he didn’t, it was just so close to Antonov’s face that he might as well have.
There was moisture dripping from him onto Antonov’s face. It was either spit or sweat. There was no clear division between his crotch hair and his belly hair either, making it feel like a giant bear was behind him. Antonov cringed and squirmed until the pain grew so bad he stayed still, and he found it did feel better to gnaw on the meat of Yuri’s firm forearm.
“Hey, say my name,” Yuri whispered into Antonov’s ear.
Antonov lay flat on the bed, perfectly still because every motion he made reawakened the pain in his ass. He just submitted and tried not to think about the body hair scratching at his skin. “Wh-What?”
“Say my name, like a girl,” Yuri said. “Please? You’re so pretty. Say my name. Moan it.” His voice was breathless and deep, rumbling, and Antonov could feel the words in Yuri’s chest just as strongly as he could hear them.
“Yuri…” Antonov hadn’t intended to actually say Yuri’s name like he demanded. Antonov was going to ask him to go easier on his ass. But all he managed to get out was the name before Yuri moaned again like he was going to cum just from hearing his own name.
With that, Yuri’s cock slid the rest of the way into Antonov. The pain — and pleasure — was intense enough that Antonov raised his ass up. He buried his face in the pillow again, then lifted it up as he heaved for breath. The sensation was so intense he had to concentrate to draw breath at all.
“You’re doing so good…” Yuri said. He kissed Antonov’s head again, and he even moved his face around to kiss Antonov on the cheeks and lips. Yuri had big, full lips, and his tongue entered Antonov’s mouth.
Then Yuri stopped moving. There was a flurry of motion from one of the other bunks — did someone wake up? Antonov couldn’t tell. He was buried in Yuri’s arms and chest, pinned against the bunk. Antonov couldn’t have cried out if he wanted to.
Someone had gotten up. It was Pyotr, Antonov thought, getting up to take a piss. Yuri pretended to be asleep. Since he was so big and he was atop Antonov, covering his body completely, nobody could see what was happening, at least not without coming very close, even though Antonov was squirming and groaning. Their bunk was in one shadowy corner near the fireplace, which made it especially hard to see anything.
But Yuri didn’t move his cock. It remained hard like a sword inside Antonov, who would have been writhing there in agony on the bed if it weren’t for the massive weight of man and muscle atop his back. He couldn’t even take a breath.
There was a bucket near the door that they used for piss. Antonov could hear the slow tinkle of Pyotr filling the bucket. The sound made Antonov squirm the best he could beneath Yuri’s body. That made Yuri bite his lip and jerk his body as though he was nearing orgasm and trying to keep it down.
At last Pyotr laid back down in his bunk. Yuri and Antonov remained totally still and silent. Antonov wondered how long he could last like this, with a cock throbbing in his ass.
Then Yuri started moving. It hadn’t been very long since Pyotr was up and moving around, so Yuri kept it quiet and low.-key He ground his hips, not moving his dick in or out at all, just exploring every inch of Antonov’s insides.
That was even more arduous than the actual ramming had been. Antonov felt like he was going to explode. Yuri’s meaty forearm was in front of his face again, and this time Antonov bit down hard, like he was trying to actually eat Yuri’s arm.
Yuri grunted in pain from Antonov’s bite, but he didn’t try to pull his arm away. He was so muscular that biting his forearm was like eating steel. It felt like Antonov was more likely to break his teeth than actually tear out a chunk of flesh from Yuri’s arm.
“It is okay. I is alright,” Yuri said. His gravely whisper made Antonov shudder, which in turn caused another wave of pain to shoot through him. Yuri spoke as soothingly as his gruff voice would allow. “Don’t worry, little rose-blossom. I’m almost done. I’m going to fill you up with my cum-” That thought made Antonov yelp into Yuri’s flesh, and Yuri tightened his grip on Antonov’s body. “Sssh, don’t wake them up. If they sleep through this, it will not count. I will not tell anyone. Tomorrow it will be like it never happened. I will jerk you off again next time.”
“When… Uh… When do I get ram you?” Antonov said.
“Later…” Yuri said. “I am jerking you off. That is a good enough trade, isn’t it?”
“Yeah… fine,” Antonov said. That didn’t really sound so equal at all, but he knew Yuri was right — the best result was just not waking anyone up. Yuri would keep it a secret if he could.
“Okay, lift your hips up a bit,” Yuri said. When Antonov didn’t immediately follow instructions, Yuri grabbed his waist and lifted it up. He pressed his palm — the same palm he had been spitting in before, so it was now clammy and moist — on the back of Antonov’s head, pushing his face into the mattress. The bed was wet now too, with spit and sweat and more.
Yuri took a deep breath. Antonov closed his eyes, certain that this was going to hurt worse than anything he had ever experienced.
He wasn’t wrong. Yuri began slamming his hips up and down, using every ounce of power in his massive body, as though he was trying to get at something deep within Antonov. Antonov squealed into the mattress beneath him. He didn’t need to worry about muffling the sound because Yuri kept his face in position, buried in the sheets and the mattress.
Antonov had no idea how long that took. It felt like many hours, but he assumed that couldn’t be right, or the sun would have been up when he lifted his head. But it was still pitch-black, still freezing cold away from Yuri’s overheated body.
The sound of Yuri’s balls slapping against Antonov’s thighs filled the air. That seemed very loud to Antonov, but only because Antonov was also beneath the blankets, which Yuri had to hold on to in order to ensure they covered the action. That helped provide insulation and kept the sound from waking up all of Antonov’s and Yuri’s other workmates.
The only thing worse than Yuri’s pounding was when it ended. That’s because Antonov was overwhelmed by pain as Yuri stopped moving with his fat cock all the way inside Antonov. Yuri’s entire body shook, and his muscles all flexed at once.
Yuri let out a deep roar that Antonov thought would surely wake someone up, though no one moved. The sound resonated in Antonov’s ear. Yuri’s body was drenched in sweat, his thick mop of black hair plastered to his scalp
Then the sensation of cum flowing into him hit Antonov’s senses. He tried to squirm but Yuri snarled and gripped him tight. Antonov couldn’t even go limp as the feeling was too intense. All he could do was bury his face in the mattress — which stank of Yuri’s sweat — as cum filled him up.
He shot a huge load, impossibly large, it seemed to Antonov, who felt it sloshing around within him. Yuri sighed as it came out. Antonov could feel how thick and creamy it was, seeping into every corner of his insides. There was so much of it that Antonov thought he tasted its salty-sour flavor, like it had somehow broken all the way through to his mouth, though a part of him knew that was just Yuri’s chest hair in his mouth.
“You are alright, my little rose-blossom?” Yuri asked. His voice was low and rumbly, and he again kissed Antonov on the back of the neck.
Antonov nodded. He was still in too much pain with that giant cock in his ass to say anything or do anything besides keep his mouth shut. It took every fiber of being to avoid screaming out in agony.
“You want me to take it out?” Yuri asked. His dick twitched inside Antonov. It hurt even worse now that it was only half-hard and rapidly limpening. Yuri laughed at Antonov’s wincing reaction.
“Yes!” Antonov spat. He held his breath as Yuri withdrew the first little bit of his cock, but then he stopped.
“You sure?”
“Yes!”
Yuri laughed again. He pressed down on Antonov’s head with one arm, while his other hand pushed Antonov’s shoulders down. He slowly dragged his dick out.
When he was finally done, Antonov breathed a deep sigh of relief. He had never felt better than he did in those first few seconds, like he had scratched an itch that had been bothering him for years. That feeling didn’t last very long, because intense soreness overwhelmed him then, and every motion he made sent another wave of pain from his ass.
But at least it was over. Antonov had gotten through it. His father had said he was too much of a weakling, that he’d never be able to fit in here with the other real men working in Siberia. Antonov’s father had said his skinny body would freeze to death his first night.
That hadn’t happened. Antonov had made it through his first week, and he hadn’t done too poorly — nobody had woken up, as far as he could see. Nobody knew he had gotten rammed.
Yuri belched loudly. Now that they were done ramming, it didn’t matter if he woke anyone up. His rancid breath condensed on Antonov’s face, and Antonov winced. Yuri chuckled and kissed him.
Then Yuri rolled over. His limp, slimy dick rested on Antonov’s thigh. Yuri laid on his side, and he wrapped his arms and his leg around Antonov. Antonov once again found himself ensconced in those massive muscles and his burly bear-like chest hair.
“Sssh, it is cold,” Yuri said. “Sleep with me like this, okay?”
Antonov sighed. “Fine.” He had to admit, it was more comfortable this way. He hadn’t been able to sleep when he tried to stay as far away from Yuri as possible, and the man’s throbbing muscles made for a comfortable bed and blanket. He was warm and cozy.
“Thank you,” Yuri said. “You’ll fit in well here, Antonov. I’m going to enjoy you, workmate.”

Breaking Alpha

Madhu is cooking meth for a biker gang, who supply him with a bodyguard. That’s Knuckle, a terrifying brute of a man who just might have a softer side, one that Madhu is excited to explore.

Will Madhu survive alongside Knuckle’s brand of massive masculinity?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Madhu Sharma was always nervous when he came to “work”. He was only just starting to see it as a job at all, but that’s what it was. He certainly didn’t enjoy doing it, and he only did it for the money. He was in desperate need of cash.
It sure felt like a job. It was only missing an obnoxious HR person to make him go on team-building workshops.
Madhu had started cooking meth because he needed money. It wasn’t his plan to make money that way. He had simply graduated with a degree in chemistry and no way to make money with it. The only people hiring a chemist were drug dealers.
He had also had nowhere to live, and the Jagged Right — a biker gang here in Smashwood Trailer Park — provided a solution to both of his problems. They gave Madhu a trailer to live in, and they paid him a weekly, tax-free stipend to make meth. He was doing better than most of the people he went to college with; they struggled to find jobs with major multinationals, while Madhu was rolling in the dough from the beginning.
It was easy, really. There was a lot to the process, but Madhu was well-practiced at it.
So Madhu was always nervous when he came to work. That simply entailed leaving his trailer and walking to the trailer next door. The trailer park was closed to outsiders, with bikers sitting by the gate to alert when visitors arrived — uninvited visitors were treated with extreme suspicion.
When Knuckle arrived, Madhu was terrified. Even as Math (the head biker in charge around here) explained, Madhu couldn’t pay attention because his heart fluttered. Knuckle was a giant, nearly seven feet tall, and built like a linebacker. He had a mean, craggy face that made him look older than he was, and his tanned skin was marked with what looked like prison tats.
“Knuckle here is gonna be your bodyguard. Don’t go nowhere without him,” Math had said, and that was it. That was the only explanation Madhu was given.
Knuckle grunted. He ignored Madhu. He went to the door to the trailer and stood there, unmoving, like a statue. He remained motionless for a few minutes, but eventually he walked around the perimeter of the trailer. He tried each of the windows, which had been sealed shut already.
Only then did he come in and speak. “What is the opening on the roof?” His voice was deep and gravelly. He was so big, with cavernous lungs, that he was hard to understand, his voice resonating and bouncing around in his body.
He wore only a sleeveless shirt, revealing a crude network of colorful tattoos. It wasn’t an “arm-sleeve”, it was more haphazard than that, but it coated his left arm and much of his right, and more tattoos — including what appeared to be a couple of weasels humping — were visible on his chest. He even had a network of camouflage designs on the side of his neck, which was so short and thick it was barely visible. He pointed up at the roof of the trailer.
“Uh… That? The ventilation system?” Madhu pointed upwards. His heart skipped a beat. “It’s, uh… ventilation.”
“It ain’t secure. Someone could get in.”
Madhu blushed. “Uh, well, maybe, but we need ventilation. These chemicals put out toxic fumes. This trailer would be a lethal gas chamber in an hour or two if you made it airtight.”
He frowned. He was quiet for a long time. He looked Madhu up and down. Knuckle furrowed his brow.
“Fine.” He frowned. “I will fix it.”
Madhu’s heart skipped a beat. Knuckle was so scary it hurt. He had an amazing body though — oh god those muscles, Madhu had to suppress a leer and a lick of his teeth. Madhu wondered if Knuckle understood that the ventilation system was absolutely required. He seemed to think Madhu was making that up, that the chemicals weren’t really poisonous.
This was not some debatable liberal agenda though, Madhu thought. If made airtight, this trailer could be used as a gas chamber to execute inmates; it was highly toxic; it would make his lungs melt if the concentration got high enough. The whole trailer could explode too. Madhu didn’t think Knuckle got that.
Sure enough, soon, Knuckle was up on the roof banging away. Madhu stepped outside. Should I confront him? Am I allowed to? Should I go to Math and complain? If he blocks up the ventilation, I’m going to die.
“Uh, Knuckle… what, uh… what are you doing?”
Knuckle came to the edge of the roof of the trailer and looked down. He scowled, then jumped to the ground. He grabbed Madhu and dragged him back into the trailer.
Knuckle grunted. He tossed Madhu into the trailer. Madhu was shocked because that had happened so fast, and because he was more than a little turned on by the feel of Knuckle’s muscles. He felt like his body was filled with writhing snakes, Madhu thought, and his sweat tasted salty and clean and delicious.
“What-?”
“You gotta stay in here, man. It ain’t secure for you to be off wanderin’ around,” Knuckle said. “When you on duty, you gotta stay in here.”
“Oh, uh… okay.” Madhu thought he should argue or leave or go get Math, but he didn’t. He was worried he’d get in trouble. He could always talk to Math about it later. Did he really even need security? He hadn’t needed this kind of security up until now.
Knuckle nodded. He again paused to look Madhu up and down, and he even licked his lips. He almost looked like he was aroused, but Madhu assumed that wasn’t it. Knuckle left the trailer and went back to the roof.
Madhu returned to his lab. The day was almost done anyway, and then he’d need to leave the reaction to catalyze all night. He was about to leave the trailer when the door opened and Knuckle walked in.
“I installed a lock. It can still ventilate,” Knuckle said, “But no one can break in.”
“Oh. Cool, okay,” Madhu said. He blushed.
“I do not want anyone to hurt you.” He glowered, sucking on his teeth and chewing his lower lip.
“Right. Thanks.” Madhu cringed, the situation suddenly too intense for him to think. Knuckle peered deep into his eyes. The aroma of his unwashed scent turned Madhu on.
He had no way of knowing that Knuckle was thinking similar things. He found his eyes drawn to Madhu’s perky young body all day. He had a delightfully feminine shape to his ass, and though his voice wasn’t obviously girlish, it was flamboyant and lilting and it made Knuckle’s dick twitch.
Madhu smiled nervously, and Knuckle’s eyes opened wide. He wanted him bad.
I could just pretend this is prison. This trailer is about the size of a prison cell. Knuckle refused to let himself consider that. Yet when he looked down at his feet, he saw that his dick was out. Did I take that out? Knuckle didn’t remember doing so, but he surely would have noticed if Madhu unzipped his pants.
“Didja take my dick out?”
Madhu gasped. “No!” He thought he might cry. What was he even being accused of? “You took your dick out like two seconds ago!”
Knuckle grunted. He stood there, not sure what he should do next. All he could think about was getting his rocks off. He hadn’t blown a nut off in what felt like forever. The funny thing was he hadn’t been horny until he saw Madhu.
Another grunt escaped from his lips when Madhu wrapped one hand around his cock. Knuckle moaned. Madhu grinned, his anxiety slowly diminishing now that it was more apparent what Knuckle wanted.
Though Madhu would have enjoyed getting rammed, he knew better than to try to push his luck. He still wasn’t even sure Knuckle was comfortable getting a handjob — he hadn’t said no, hadn’t made Madhu stop, and he was the one who took his dick out in the first place, which all seemed like pretty clear signals. But Madhu didn’t want to push his luck by trying to jerk off the brutish giant. Knuckle was terrifyingly massive, and he had that big bull head like an ape. Madhu didn’t want to do anything that might make him uncomfortable.
So he just stroked his cock to full erection — that took only a few seconds because Knuckle was unbelievably horny to begin with. Soon his dick was hard as iron, throbbing like its own living entity. Madhu could feel his heartbeat.
It twitched, and Knuckle moaned. His deep voice rang out. “Why you doin’ that?”
Madhu said softly. “Do you want me to stop?”
Knuckle growled and gripped Madhu’s hand with both of his big meaty paws. He closed his eyes and began to pump his hips, plowing Madhu’s hand with that massive manhood. His balls swayed beneath him and slapped Madhu’s side as he stroked.
It was an exhilarating experience for Madhu, exciting and frightening at the same time, like a poorly-maintained roller coaster. He moved his head closer to the dingy sleeveless shirt, and inhaled deeply of Knuckle’s musky scent. One of his hands crept up, under that shirt, massaging his belly before reaching his chest.
His pectorals twitched and flexed beneath Madhu’s touch, and Knuckle grunted. He rammed Madhu’s hand hard, like he wanted to punish it. Madhu could do little more than squeeze and hold on until Knuckle finally reached his orgasm.
“Ah….” Knuckle bit his lip as pleasure overwhelmed him, and cum sprayed onto Madhu’s leg and hand.
The smell of salty-sour cum filled the air. Knuckle gasped, and his whole hefty body leaned forward. His cock pressed against Madhu’s hip, still pulsating, spraying wad after wad up over Madhu’s shirt and even onto his chin.
“Oh-” Madhu blushed. He kept his hand in position, both of Knuckle’s hands gripping it so firmly it hurt a little. =
Finally, with cum still shooting out of his dick, Knuckle leaned far enough that Madhu couldn’t support him. He leaned against the table, then a chair, and then sunk to the floor. Knuckle grabbed the chair before he fell — which was good because he would have toppled onto Madhu, probably hurt him and possibly knocked over some of the chemicals.
“Damn…” Knuckle said. He stood, dick limpening as it still dripped a few droplets of creamy cum onto Madhu’s face.
“Hmmm…” Madhu blushed and sat up. “That was…-“
“Shut up.” Knuckle grunted. “You seduced me. That ain’t right. I ain’t into that poervert nonsense. I don’t do that. Don’t seduce me no more.”
Then he turned around and walked out of the trailer, leaving Madhu there to clean up and savor the sweet scent of Knuckle’s alpha male body. Madhu sighed.
Maybe, he thought, this job won’t be as bad as I had thought.
Madhu assumed that the handjob was going to be kept secret. Something like this could only be on the downlow, he thought. That just seemed like a reasonable guess. He didn’t even think about it. It wasn’t like he socialized with the trailer trash of Smashwood Trailer Park anyway.
But the next morning, he saw grimy rednecks — the shirtless swastika-ed perpetual drunks who spent their days searching for smokeable cigarette butts in city ashtrays — laughing at him, and making murmured jokes about Knuckle. Knuckle ignored them but wrinkled his nose a little. He remained standing at the entrance to the trailer, eyeing the addicts and dealer that came through to buy meth. He wore the same clothes as yesterday.
Since Madhu knew he hadn’t told anyone, it could only have been Knuckle.
“Freak! Ugly-ass Knuckle…”
“Who you gonna ramrod today, booty bandit?!”
The grimy rednecks (who were constantly around though Madhu wasn’t aware of any purpose here) laughed at Knuckle, but he didn’t respond in the slightest. He grimaced, his squat neck turning ruddy at first before he relaxed.
But he didn’t say anything to Madhu all day. He didn’t even look at him. It was a lonely day — the only person Madhu talked to was the clerk at the drug store where he went, Knuckle in tow, to buy more cough medicine.
Knuckle got drunk on Saturday. That was Knuckle’s day off, and Madhu’s too. Madhu spent the day in his trailer as he normally did, reading, trying not to think about his life. He heard Knuckle getting drunk all day outside. He could hear the men laughing at Knuckle too.
Knuckle’s low voice rumbled, his words slurred. But Madhu couldn’t make out his words, just the other’s response.
Madhu tried not to listen. He felt a little bad for Knuckle, but Knuckle didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t even attempted to keep it a secret.
He was just about to go to bed when Knuckle drunkenly stumbled into his trailer. Knuckle belched loudly, his sweat-soaked body gleaming. Blood trickled from his crooked nose.
“Jzzzheeerkk meee offf.” Knuckle pulled his camo pants down, waving his dick in front of Madhu’s face. He stepped forward but toppled to the floor so hard Madhu yelped and ran to him.
“Are you okay?”
Knuckle rolled over. His massive dick was soft, blood now pouring from his nose. Madhu sighed and stopped the bleeding, while Knuckle drunkenly squirmed. He kept demanding Madhu jerk him off, but he didn’t make any effort to force Madhu’s head down.
“I’m not giving you dome when you’re this drunk. It’s gross. You’ll probably puke on me. Or pass out on me,” Madhu said. He wasn’t sure Knuckle heard or accepted that, but he didn’t argue — or if he did, he was too drunk to be clear.
It took ten minutes for Knuckle’s nose to stop bleeding — he still had a big nasty bruise on his cheek from the fall though — and then another hour and a half for Madhu to get Knuckle up into bed. By then, Madhu was exhausted. He put a glass of water on the bed next to Knuckle and climbed in on the other side.
Knuckle was out cold, like sleeping next to a big warm stone. Madhu fell asleep nuzzling his bicep, one hand resting on his meaty chest.
It was the most satisfying sleep Madhu had had in years, since before he graduated college. He didn’t wake up until early the next morning, when Knuckle slid back into bed — Madhu hadn’t awoken when he left the bed, but he did when he came back.
Knuckle was sober now. His head hurt, but he wasn’t hungover. He had never been a big drinker, and spending time behind bars meant his tolerance had gone down, so it didn’t take too much for Knuckle to pass out last night. He then showered, drank some water and ate dry bread in Madhu’s kitchen. He wasn’t drunk anymore, just a little queasy.
Now as he slid under the covers again, Madhu’s smooth fingers clutching his belly, Knuckle felt well again. He shushed Madhu — even though he hadn’t said anything — and gripped the back of his head.
“Good mornin’-“
“Shush, I said.” Knuckle guided Madhu’s head, gently but firmly, to his crotch. His dick was limp, and it smelled of spilled beer and man-sweat. Madhu inhaled deeply of it.
He picked up the shaft and kissed Knuckle’s cocktip before driving it into his mouth. He suckled on the tip. He began to get the idea of what Knuckle wanted — he wanted Madhu to resist a little. He wanted to be in charge, overcoming Madhu’s reluctance.
So Madhu pretended to have difficulty with the size of Knuckle’s cock — he didn’t have to pretend much, because it was big and extremely girthy, but Madhu had handled enough big cocks to deep-throat it. He choked and hesitated, and Knuckle clucked his tongue, pushing his head down deeper.
He covered Madhu with a sheet. It felt like he was with his prison wife again, Knuckle thought, since he couldn’t see anything but that sheet and Madhu’s writhing body beneath it, all that mattered was Knuckle and the potent pleasure coursing through his veins. He raised his hips, firmly plowing his meat down Madhu’s throat.
Despite the size of Knuckle’s cock, it didn’t hurt a bit, and Madhu even moaned around the cock as it filled his throat. Madhu tried to jack himself off, but found that he needed to use both hands to stroke Knuckle’s dick. Madhu’s own cock rubbed over Knuckle’s leg, and when Knuckle didn’t complain, Madhu began dry-humping him.
“Ugh….” Knuckle grunted and his whole body twitched. He used both hands on Madhu’s head, holding him in place as wad after wad of sweet cum flowed down Madhu’s throat.
Madhu shot his own load right onto Knuckle’s leg — Knuckle barely noticed — while guzzling down every drop of Knuckle’s own juices. It coated his belly and its body heat seeped into his flesh. Madhu gurgled, choking on the intense flow of cum down his throat.
At last, they were both done. Madhu fell limp and slid off Knuckle’s cock. He curled up next to him on the bed, kissed him on the neck and cuddled up with him.
“Thanks-“
“Shush.” Knuckle turned his head. He placed one hand over Madhu’s mouth. “No talking. I’m going back to sleep.”
The next morning, Madhu awoke happy and content. Knuckle was already awake, just waiting for Madhu to disentangle himself from his arms. Then Knuckle yawned and went to the trailer door.
That was where the officers of the Northern Florida Methamphetamine Task Force were waiting.
They streamed into the trailer, putting Knuckle in handcuffs and roughing him up. Madhu didn’t look like such a thug, so they treated him a little better, but still, he was marched out of the trailer park in handcuffs and driven away, in a different van than Knuckle was in.
So that was the end of Madhu’s foray into drug manufacture. He didn’t last very long. He would have been better off hustling for multinational jobs like his pharmacy school classmates.
Maybe it was always fated to end like this. Madhu did his part though, he cooperated with the cops arrested him, but he didn’t tell them anything. He let his lawyer do the talking. He already planned on pleading guilty. His lawyer said he’d do okay because he didn’t have a record like all the others. He would look like a nice man who had been forced into manufacturing meth.
That was small comfort to Madhu, who couldn’t hold his own in prison like the other Jagged Right could. He thought they would protect him — they said they would — but then the bikers and rednecks were all transferred from jail to prison, whereas Madhu was not seen as enough of a risk to bother. So Madhu stayed there there in jail, with no one to protect him from the legion of drunks, thugs and ruffians who came through.
His first week was bad. Madhu considered killing himself. But his lawyer had said he’d be out in a few years. He thought he could handle that. He might even be able to start a new life when he left. He thought about writing a book, maybe he could make some money on the outside as a writer.
But first, he needed to survive.
When his cell door opened and Knuckle walked in, Madhu’s first thought was that Knuckle was here to kill him. Maybe Knuckle thought Madhu would squeal, or maybe he blamed Madhu for the trailer park being busted, or maybe he just wanted to kill.
“What are you doing here-?”
“They said we gotta go on trial together. Cuz we was arrested together.” Knuckle’s gravelly voice filled the cell. The door slammed shut behind him. Knuckle came into the cell and scowled at Madhu. Madhu sat at the little writing desk in the cell, watching as Knuckle moved all of Madhu’s things from the top bunk to the bottom. “I’m taking the top bunk. That’s for real men.”
“Oh, uh… okay.” Madhu thought it was best not to fight about that. “I guess I’m glad I got you as a cellmate. I-“
“Shut up. Why you gotta talk about everything?”
“I guess… That’s just how I am.” Madhu opened his mouth to continue explaining, but he realized Knuckle wouldn’t want that. Madhu just fell quiet.
Then Knuckle began working out. He didn’t tell Madhu to move out of his way, but Madhu got the message anyway. Knuckle was so big he took up all the space in the cell. Madhu could do little more than crouch in his bunk and watch Knuckle’s massive body move.
He did push-ups until he couldn’t anymore, and then he did a series of lunges and lifts, using whatever he could find as a weight. He even made Madhu climb up on his back and hold on while Knuckle did a round of deep-knee squats.
That was what he did when the lights finally flicked out. Madhu was so surprised he almost fell off Knuckle’s back, sliding over his sweat-soaked bare flesh.
“They don’t give any warning before turning out the lights,” Madhu said. “In movies, they always announce it.”
“This ain’t a movie,” Knuckle said. Then he wrapped his big bearish arms around Madhu and plowed his tongue down his throat. He brought Madhu to the floor, his heavy body pinning him down.
Madhu squealed and squirmed out of sheer shock. He had assumed Knuckle would want dome at some point — he’d always said he didn’t do that kind of thing except in prison, which was a lie, but Madhu figured the “except in prison” part was probably not a lie. But he didn’t think Knuckle would kiss him.
“Boy, I been lustin’ for you wit’chu since I first saw you. You got pretty all over, and I wanna taste it.” Knuckle growled, slathering Madhu’s face in kisses. He moved to Madhu’s neck, which was long and slender. It felt so smooth, like porcelain, Knuckle thought. His dick twitched. It was so hard it hurt. “I been waiting for this for a long time.”
“Waiting for what?”
“Waiting to lust fo’ you. I don’t mess wit’ males outside of prison,” Knuckle said. “But in here, wit’ the lights out… That’s where lust is real.” He whispered into Madhu’s ear and sucked his earlobe. “I wanna ram you so bad, boy. Get my dick wet.”
He mounted Madhu’s chest and jabbed his rock-hard dick into Madhu’s mouth with incredible urgency, like his life depended on getting his dick in there as soon as possible. He moaned right away.
Hey keep it down in there! 37A, if you’re plowing, I don’t wanna see it or hear it and I definitely don’t wanna smell it!
“Ssssssssssshhh….” Knuckle chuckled throatily, his shushing disappearing into a baritone growl aimed right in Madhu’s ear. “We gotta be private.” He kept shushing Madhu like that even though, once again, Knuckle was the one making noise.
When Knuckle was good and hard, he slid down behind Madhu. He kissed him on the lips, sucking up all the precum and spit that clung to Madhu’s cheeks.
“Oh god…” Madhu whimpered. The bunk they shared was narrow, barely big enough for one person, much less two. But they both laid on their side, and Knuckle laid with his back flat against the cold concrete wall.
His cock rubbed between Madhu’s cheeks. Knuckle reached up to his own bunk for his sheet and blanket. The cell was cold, so he laid it out on top of both he and Madhu. Madhu snuggled deep in his arms as he finally managed to feel warm.
No fighting! Are you fighting in there?
That was about the only thing the guards would do anything about at night, so Madhu heard them scatter away from the central control area in the cell block. More grunts and bellowing could be heard too. Somone was fighting in another cell.
“I guess we can make a little noise now,” Knuckle said. His deep voice was impossibly loud, echoic in the tiny room, resonating around in Madhu’s ear. Madhu shuddered and rubbed his ass over Knuckle’s pulsating cock.
“Yeah… Will you be gentle?”
“Yes, baby, I be real gentle,” Knuckle said. He kissed Madhu on the back of the head. “I been waitin’ so long to get inside you…”
His dick slipped in, moistened and lubed by Madhu’s spit. There wasn’t a bit of pain, which astonished Madhu — Knuckle’s dick was so thick it seemed there had to be a little pain, but there was only an incredible, overwhelming pleasure.
Either Madhu or Knuckle must have cried out, because inmates in other cells all laughed, but neither were aware — Knuckle grunted and snorted as he drilled his dick in, ignoring the increasingly loud jeers from the other cells.
“I hear some marital bliss over there! Woop-woop!”
“Honeymoon!”
“Who is it? Raymont?”
“Nah, I’m spankin’ it over here, I got that big-butt magazine-!”
They all laughed until they shushed each other. The guards were involved in breaking up the fight, so the inmates in this corner of the cell block were emboldened.
But then Madhu’s pressure grew too great for him to pay attention to their words. It was all a meaningless blur of shouts and profanity, and whistle squeals, but above all that, Madhu was aware of Knuckle’s body covering him, tongue coating his face as his dick rammed in and out. Madhu’s had never been plowed as hard, but somehow he had never been rammed as easily and softly at the same time. He took it all, and his dick throbbed in Knuckle’s hand. Madhu had no way of knowing it but, for Knuckle — based on his previous prison experience — giving a reacharound was the ultimate form of intimacy behind bars. It was akin to a proposal of marriage.
Madhu didn’t know any of that, and his whole body melted in Knuckle’s arms as he reached the most intense orgasm of his life. Cum sprayed into his body, great rivers of it flowing into him. He felt it coating his insides, as Madhu shot his own load onto the floor of the cell.
“Oh god, I been beggin’ for a chance to get in that ass-” Knuckle kept his mouth open, intending to keep talking, but all that came out was a chest-rattling roar. He had never shot so much, not even with his previous prison wife.
At last, Knuckle fell limp, his heavy body resting on Madhu. For a moment, Madhu couldn’t breathe due to his heaviness, then Knuckle rolled back onto his side.
Madhu sighed and clutched him close. “Thanks, Knuckle.”
“No,” Knuckle said. “Thank you.”

Yes Drill Sergeant!

Private Nathaniel Muckham is in trouble again, writing checks his ass is gonna have to back! That’s cuz his cruel drill sergeant is the legendary Drill Sergeant Manstrong Powers, who’s been known to make his cadets bend over and take it!

Can Private Muckham handle the punishment Sgt. Powers is ready to dish out?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here

Nathaniel started quaking in his boots as soon as he saw Sergeant Powers. That was because Nathaniel had snuck out of the barracks at Fort Rumblemore today to fuck with this slut who had been begging for his cock. He didn’t have any leave, so he was technically AWOL for a couple hours.
But Nathaniel had made it back on base without getting caught. He and the other soldiers in his unit talked and played cards most of the night, and Nathaniel had slyly refused to tell them what he did while teasing them about it. Eventually he had had no choice but to let it slip.
But there was no way his squadmates would have ratted him out. Even if they had wanted to, nobody left the barracks. There was no time for anyone to have squealed to Drill Sergeant Powers.
Now it was past dawn, and everyone was putting their shorts on to get ready for the early morning routine.
Judging from the sweat that clung to his burly body, Sergeant Powers had already begun his morning run. His middle-aged body was craggy and weathered but packed with powerful muscles. Was Sergeant Powers here to yell at Nathaniel? He couldn’t imagine how he would know what had happened last night.
But when Powers stepped in and bellowed, “Atten-tion!”, Nathaniel knew that he had been caught. Powers stared right at Nathaniel, who snapped to his feet and saluted in sync with the other soldiers in the barracks. He wore only thin white briefs, which made him feel naked and vulnerable — if he had known Sergeant Powers was going to come into the barracks, he’d have worn shorts. He didn’t usually come into the barracks this early in the morning though.
Nathaniel had always been the biggest, toughest guy around, but now that he was in the Army, there was always someone stronger and larger not that far away. It had been humbling for him.
Sergeant Powers was one of those men who put Nathaniel to shame. Sergeant Powers was so big he had to send away for Army boots and pants that fit him. He stooped to get into the barracks. The sweat-stained green t-shirt he wore bulged against his muscles like it was too small for him.
He came close to Nathaniel, then came even closer, until they were foot to foot and nose to nose. “Some of you think that this place is like a resort, where you can come and go whenevuh you want,” Sergeant Powers said. He snorted and grabbed his nuts through his boxer shorts. When he moved his hand away, his limp, greasy cock flopped out through the fly.
Everyone else in the barracks gasped. It was impossible that Sergeant Powers didn’t realize what had happened, but he either did it deliberately or decided to roll with it. Nathaniel was shocked by how big it was. He had always kind of assumed that not every part of Sergeant Powers could be gigantic, that the rumors about his cock couldn’t be true. He just hoped the other rumors weren’t true either.
Sergeant Powers was sometimes called — not to his face — Sergeant Sodomy, because he was rumored to ramrod soldiers under his command. Supposedly a private had awoken to Powers fucking him one night, and he ended up needing stitches in his rectum and had to be discharged from the Army because he couldn’t march straight. Nathaniel had never believed those stories, but now he wasn’t so sure.
He gulped. Sergeant Powers screwed up his eyes right in front of him, so close they were practically kissing. He had been talking, but Nathaniel was entranced by that swinging cock. He didn’t know what Sergeant Powers had said.
“Huh? Private Muckham?” Sergeant Powers leaned in close, his toothpaste-scented breath condensing on Nathaniel’s face. It was hot and minty, an odd combination, and it made Nathaniel wrinkle his nose.
Then his massive hand cupped Nathaniel’s cock and balls through his boxers. The other soldiers gasped again, and Nathaniel’s knees went weak. He expected pain, assuming that Powers was going to squeeze his sac, but he didn’t. He just cradled Nathaniel’s genitals gently — but firmly — with one of his big, meaty hands.
“Sir, I’m sorry, sir,” Nathaniel said. He tried to sound confident.
“Did you hear the question I asked you, Private Shitface?”
“Sir… No. I’m sorry, sir,” Nathaniel said. Some of his fellow soldiers snickered.
“I ain’t think so. I asked you a question. I’m gonna pretend you was listenin’ to me and you answered me truthfully, Shitface,” Sergeant Powers said. “That okay with you?” His hands played with Nathaniel’s balls through the thin fabric of the Army-issue briefs he wore.
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“Do you want me to tell the MPs what ya answer was, Private Shitface?”
“Uh… Sir… I don’t know, uh-“
Now he squeezed. He darted his hand beneath the waistband of Nathaniel’s underwear, gripped his cock and balls hard and squeezed, just hard enough to make Nathaniel wince and flash with pain. His knees buckled and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself.
Now everyone gasped. Nathaniel even heard whispering — they were all attention, so that wasn’t allowed — and the term Sergeant Sodomy came out of someone’s mouth. Nathaniel prayed that wasn’t what was going to happen. Nathaniel hadn’t even missed any assignments or duties. It wasn’t a big deal, Nathaniel thought, he’d probably have kitchen duty for a few weeks. He didn’t even hate kitchen duty like most of the other soldiers — Nathaniel had grown up working in his parents’ restaurant, so peeling potatoes reminded him of home.
“Why not? If you happy wit’ me choosing the truthful answer, you should be okay with the military police findin’ out. That’s just logic, ain’t it?”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Nathaniel said. He knew from dealing with Sergeant Powers in the past that it would be better for him to just admit it now. “Sir… I’m sorry. I snuck off-base last night. I shouldn’t have. It was just, there was a girl…”
“A girl?” Sergeant Powers said with a grin. “Why ain’t you say so? A girl. That makes anything okay, Private Shitface.” He took his hand off Nathaniel’s sweaty balls, then held it beneath Nathaniel’s nose. It smelled like stanky cockmeat, and Nathaniel wrinkled his nose. “Suck my hand clean, Private Shitface.”
“Ah shit, he’s doin’ it…”
“I told ya!”
The whispering seemed so loud now, Nathaniel couldn’t imagine why Sergeant Powers wasn’t yelling at them to get back at attention. But his dark, craggy face remained aimed directly at Nathaniel’s face, so close the tips of their noses glancingly touched. After a moment’s hesitation, Nathaniel did as he was told. Sergeant Powers slowly made him suck on all five fingers, and then Nathaniel licked his rough-skinned palm. He gagged at the salty flavor and callused texture of Sergeant Powers’s middle-aged man-flesh.
He thought that would be it. He just took Sergeant Powers’s finger in his mouth, gagged loudly and endured giggling from the other soldiers.
But it didn’t end there.
When Sergeant Powers took his hand away, Nathaniel’s mouth felt dry and dirty. He wanted to go brush his teeth. He could feel grainy dirt or maybe sweat-salt sticking to his tongue, and it made him gag even when he was done sucking Sergeant Powers’s hand.
“You put this whole unit at risk, Private Shitface.” He paused. “You know what? I’m gonna call you Private Fuckup from now on. That’s more appropriate, ain’t it?”
“Uh… Sir, yes, Drill Sergeant, sir, if you think so,” Nathaniel said.
“That’s appropriate cuz I’m gonna fuck you up, private,” Sergeant Powers said. He laughed when the others gasped and Nathaniel went white as a sheet. Sergeant Powers licked Nathaniel’s face from his chin to his forehead. “You taste like pussy. Is that cuz you was eatin’ pussy earlier? Or do you just taste like pussy? Either way, I’m gonna ramrod you.”
“Uh… sir?”
“What? You got a question?” He got up so close to Nathaniel that his massive cock pressed against Nathaniel’s bare thigh. Was it already hard? Nathaniel sure hoped so. It felt a little fleshy, but he couldn’t imagine it would get bigger. It was at least twelve inches long, he thought, maybe more. Nathaniel felt its veiny shaft pulsating against his well-muscled thigh.
“Get down on your knees,” he said with a sneer.
“Holy shit, do we have to watch this?”
“Private Muckham’s about to become Private Punk-’em.”
Nathaniel slid down to the ground amid snorts of muffled laughter. He looked around as though his fellow squadmates might rescue him, but they all stood at attention, trying to avoid looking at Nathaniel.
Then Sergeant Powers flopped his limp cock onto Nathaniel’s face.
Instantly Nathaniel gagged. It smelled so bad he thought something was wrong. A part of his mind recognized that it just smelled like a nasty pussy — which he had gotten drunk and licked before. By its nature penis smelled like vagina, and the only reason Sergeant Powers’s smelled bad was that he had just run two miles and spent an hour lifting weights. Nathaniel would later be told that Sergeant Powers always did that — that was why he hadn’t confronted Nathaniel in the coolness of night, he wanted to be sweaty and nasty when he attemptd at Nathaniel. His cock was jiggly and fatty, and it roped limply over Nathaniel’s face.
“How much do you think you can swallow, Private Fuckup?”
“Uh… sir?”
“Point on my dick. How deep do you think you can take it?”
“I, uh… I dunno, sir.”
“Well, think about it, idiot. Make a fucking prediction,” Sergeant Powers said. He slapped Nathaniel’s face with his cock, and a fresh burst of sweaty smell assaulted Nathaniel’s senses.
That is definitely not erect, that’s how big it is soft, Nathaniel thought and wanted to cry. It wasn’t totally limp either, but it slapped over his face like an uncooked sausage. There is no way anyone takes that whole cock in their throat or their ass, he told himself over and over. Impossible. It left behind a layer of grease and cock-scent on his face, which made him gag.
Blushing at the sound of his fellow squadmates laughing until Sergeant Powers shot them a harsh glare, Nathaniel pointed to a random spot, about a third of the way down the shaft. “There. Sir. I uh… I can swallow to there.”
“There, huh? That ain’t bad,” Sergeant Powers said. He let out an exaggerated moan as he guided Nathaniel’s pointing finger into a circle, which he then wrapped around his cock. Nathaniel gagged again at that fleshy feel.
Nathaniel’s hand remained still, and Sergeant Powers bucked his hips back and forth, giving himself a handjob with Nathaniel’s grip. He took off his shirt to reveal his powerful chest and faded tattoos. He was so tall that crouched-down Nathaniel’s head was beneath his crotch, and Sergeant Powers had to bend his knees to massage Nathaniel’s cheeks.
“Ah damn, sorry Nathaniel…”
He pried Nathaniel’s jaws apart. Nathaniel didn’t mean to resist, he just couldn’t help himself. His chin trembled A few tears trickled down his cheek. He wouldn’t have snuck out if he knew this would be the punishment. It wasn’t fair, he thought.
His mind stopped worrying moments later because potent saltiness invaded his senses, so strong he gagged and his eyes watered. It was just the tip of Sergeant Powers’s cock, and it was salty because he was sweaty from his night-time jog around the base.
“There he goes!”
“Oh shit, I ain’t think he’d really do it.”
Sergeant Powers sighed as he bucked his hips, pushing his dick in deeper. Nathaniel couldn’t stop gagging, even though he was aware it just made this feel even better for Sergeant Powers, whose dick perked up in his mouth.
People had been making “don’t go to prison” jokes since he was young on account of Nathaniel’s big mouth. He never gave it much thought until today. Most men wouldn’t have been able to do anything more than tease the tip of Sergeant Powers’s throbbing cock. But Nathaniel got the entire head in his mouth, and that firm shaft invaded his throat.
The smell was so intense Nathaniel wanted to vomit. He probably would have thrown up if his throat wasn’t plugged up by a rod of military meat leaking precum down his gullet.
“I ain’t never said at ease, boys!” Sergeant Powers bellowed. A few soldiers had crept out of line to watch, and a few others covered their eyes like they couldn’t bear to see it. They all jumped back in position, arms pointed downward at their side. “You too, Private Fuckup,” Sergeant Powers said. “On your knees but at attention. Keep your hands down.”
His hands had been flailing uselessly — Nathaniel wanted to push Sergeant Powers away, but he couldn’t, and he didn’t want to touch any part of Powers’s muscles. He had to force his hands to his side. He straightened his back, trying not to gag with every thrust of Sergeant Powers’s cock into his throat.
He was surprised at how physically easy it was — Nathaniel had thought swallowing cock required effort and concentration. But all he actually had to do was not fight back. That wasn’t easy for him mentally, but when he managed to loosen his throat, Powers’s dick slid most of the way down it. His balls swayed against Nathaniel’s chin.
It was, however, difficult for Nathaniel to accept without panic. It felt like he was being torn up from the inside out. He wanted to vomit but couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe or speak or cough or do anything but taste the sweat and precum trickling into his mouth. He was dizzy from lack of oxygen.
“You doin’ better than you predicted,” Sergeant Powers said. “But I don’t accept nothin’ less than perfect.” He wrapped his fingers over Nathaniel’s scalp and held his head in place.
Nathaniel cried out for air as he choked. He couldn’t help himself from sobbing as he sputtered on the cock invading his throat. Sergeant Powers used his other hand to pinch Nathaniel’s nostrils shut, which opened his throat wide enough that every inch of Sergeant Powers’s cock fit down there. His balls swung and thwacked against Nathaniel’s chin.
“Listen to that sound. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. “
“I know, yeah, Nathaniel swallows dick like a fuckin’ champion. I ain’t know he was talented like that.”
“He got that big mouth…”
“Now stand up and bend over,” Sergeant Powers said. He grimaced like he didn’t want to do this, while the other soldiers snickered nervously.
He pulled out and Nathaniel was overcome by dizziness. He toppled over as he tried to stand. Great gobs of saliva and stomach bile spilled out of Nathaniel’s throat. The only reason he didn’t vomit was that he hadn’t eaten since early the previous evening — he would have been hungry except that he was nauseous and full of precum — so Nathaniel dry-heaved as he tried to stand. Then Sergeant Powers grabbed him by the shoulders and bent him over the bed. Nathaniel retched and fell limp onto his own bunk.
“Stick your ass up,” he barked.
Nathaniel moaned as he did so. His asshole twinkled in anticipation. His mind raced, unable to consider what was about to happen because he still heaved for breath.
“Beg me for it, Private Fuckup.”
“Sir, please… No…”
“What was that?!”
“I mean… yes. Please, uh…”
“Cornhole me. Say it.”
“Cornhole me. Please cornhole me, Sergeant…” Nathaniel’s entire body cringed. He hated showing obedience to anyone, and he especially hated himself for begging to be fucked. Being held down and cornholed was one thing, but Nathaniel was literally begging for it. He would never be able to admit that this happened, he thought, he’d be forever in denial about it — could he even continue working alongside all these witnesses? He felt like he might not be able to. If they teased him about it, he’d hit them. What if he got sent to military prison? They had a hundred Sergeant Sodomys there, he thought, sobbing into his bunk.
Then pain exploded in his ass. Nathaniel screamed and hyperventilated. He stuck his head up high in the air, tears streaming down his cheek. His face was bright red, and his entire body clenched.
Sergeant Powers took his boxers and filled Nathaniel’s mouth with them. He held onto the edges and used them like a bridle, guiding Nathaniel as he tried to crawl away.
“Please, sir…”
“More? You want more? Is that what you’re asking, Private Fuckup? Speak up!” He ground his hips to squeeze more of his cock into Nathaniel’s tight ass. “Maybe I should call you Private Loose-Asshole. How’s that sound?”
“Sir, whatever you want, sir,” Nathaniel said through gritted teeth, the words barely decipherable through the boxers in his mouth. There must have been pubic hairs clinging to the fabric, Nathaniel thought, because he could feel them tickling his throat.
The radio attached to Sergeant Powers’s clothes flickered into life. Powers, you out on your run? It was so loud that it made Nathaniel jump and his asshole loosen a bit, so another inch or so of cockmeat slid into him. Nathaniel wondered how much was left to take, but he was too scared to turn around and check.
Powers slapped one of Nathaniel’s cheeks. He had to stretch to reach the radio on his shorts and his shirt, and when he moved, his cock twitched inside Nathaniel. Whatever it touched must have been sensitive, because Nathaniel felt like he was being torn in two. He screamed until Powers pushed his face into the mattress of his bunk, muffling the sound.
“Yes,” Sergeant Powers said into the radio.
Uh, okay, did you see that note from the duty sergeant last night? About that, uh… Muckham?
“Yes,” Sergeant Powers said with a smile. “I saw that note. I’m taking care of it right now.”
There was a nervous chuckle on the other side of the radio. Oh, so right now, you’re… doling out one of your special punishments?
“That’s right.”
Okay. Just so you know, it’s okay to not answer your radio sometimes. I don’t need to hear this.
“Uh, it’s standard procedure, Paul. What if the Canadians chose today to attack? It would be just like them. Wait a minute, Paul, this is the sound of Inch Thirteen.”
From his vantage point, Nathaniel couldn’t see what Sergeant Powers did. But from everyone’s laughter, he gathered that Powers had placed the radio transmitter near Nathaniel’s ass, pressed the button and then pushed the last inch of his cock into Nathaniel’s tearing ass. There was a moist squishing sound, and Nathaniel moaned in agony.
“That’s what a nice big punishment sounds like.”
Sounds delightful, Powers. Remind me to forbid my wife from ever meeting you. Base out.
Sergeant Powers laughed and threw the radio, and his dirty clothes, onto Nathaniel’s pillow. He grabbed Nathaniel’s chin with one hand and placed his other on the small of Nathaniel’s back. “Okay, Private Fuckup, here we go. I’m all the way in. Can you believe that? Most women can’t take all thirteen inches in their pussy, much less their ass. But then most women aren’t shitheaps like you. Anyway, I’m gonna start really plowing now. This is the part that’s gonna hurt the worst. You ready?”
Blinking back tears, Nathaniel nodded. He thought he was supposed to say yes out loud too, but Sergeant Powers didn’t seem to care. He just started pounding.
His dignity disappeared as Nathaniel screamed. Sergeant Powers forced his head up so everyone could see Nathaniel’s tense, weeping face, while keeping his ass low and submissive. He brought all thirteen inches out, leaving just the tip in, then slammed the entire shaft back in.
He groaned with each thrust of his hips, while Nathaniel couldn’t stop screaming. He finally fell silent only when Sergeant Powers laid atop Nathaniel’s back, grinding his dick within Nathaniel’s ass and cackling into Nathaniel’s ear as he squirmed from the pain.
He had no idea how long that lasted. It felt like forever, Nathaniel thought, and he wondered if his asshole was ruined — it felt like it would never be tight again. He tried to crawl away but Sergeant Powers’s hairy, sweat-slickened muscles weighed him down. Nathaniel could feel every ounce of machismo writhing, flexing above his back, breathing heavy into his ear. He cried, not that anyone could hear him over the sound of Sergeant Powers’s frenzied snorts as he rutted inside Nathaniel’s guts.
Nathaniel was so numb in the ass that he didn’t feel Sergeant Powers’s orgasm began. He just realized it was happening when there was a powerful warming sensation inside him, and Sergeant Powers’s muscles all twitched at once.
He sighed as Nathaniel filled up with his seed. Utter humiliation flowed through Nathaniel’s veins. He cringed and tried to bury his face, but Sergeant Powers forced him to remain upright, looking at his squadmates.
It felt like piss, Nathaniel thought. He could feel Sergeant Powers’s dick softening and pulsating as the cum flowed through it, and he shot such a huge load that it kept going, not in wads but in a constant stream.
More and more cum filled him, so much that Nathaniel imagined he could taste it. His skin felt sticky as though he was covered in it from head to toe. It didn’t hurt any less, even when it was done and Powers’s massive cock gradually limpened.
“I’m waiting for you, private.”
“Uh… Wh-Wh-” Nathaniel didn’t know what he was expected to do. All he could think about was the wrenching pain in his ass. Was he bleeding? He couldn’t tell, but it wouldn’t surprise him. He was in too much agony to turn his head and look, and besides that, he didn’t want to see.
“I’ll remove my cock when you ask me to.”
“Please… uh, take, uh… take your… Uh… Take your cock…” Nathaniel twisted and gasped. His face was bright red, eyes alternating between open wide and squeezed shut. He clawed at the sheets beneath him.
“Say it properly, Private Fuckup. Say it in a complete sentence, like a soldier.”
Nathaniel tried to take a deep breath but that caused an outpouring of pain in his ass. He ground his face into the bunk, then grunted and tried to speak. “Uh… Sir! Please… Please remove… your cock… from my ass.”
“Don’t cuss, Private Fuckup.”
“Sir… Please, uh, remove your penis from… my… anus,” Nathaniel said. That made some of the other soldiers laugh quietly, still standing at attention at the foot of their bunks.
“What have you learned from this experience, Private Fuckup?”
“To, uh, not sneak out! I’ll always follow the rules, I swear,” Nathaniel said. He had never been so humiliated. Back in high school, Nathaniel was a rebel and a punk. He would have killed himself rather than beg for a chance to be obedient. But now he couldn’t think about anything but the splitting pain in his asshole.
Sergeant Powers stood. “Atten-tion!” Nathaniel sighed as he felt that cock slide out of him, like he was taking a massive dump. It tingled, hurt and felt good all at once. His asshole was cold as it gaped, exposed to the air.
“I said ‘At Attention’, Private Fuckup!”
The agony was excruciating as Nathaniel forced himself to stand at attention. He felt cum trickling down his legs. His cock had never seemed smaller. His asscheeks were numb but his asshole screamed with agony.
“Private Fuckup, are you satisfied with the rules of this base?”
“Sir, yes, sir. I’ll never sneak off again.” Nathaniel sniffled and held back tears. He struggled to remain upright and at-attention at the foot of his bed.
Sergeant Powers smiled. He flopped his massive, grimy cock between his fingers. Fluids dripped from it and clung to his trunk-like thighs. “I really hope that ain’t true, boy. Cuz you got a nice ass. I’ll be watchin’ you for another reason to wreck it.”

Thumper & His Prettyboy Cellmate

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Slim Jay the Pimp

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It’s free! Read it now as an ebook or read the whole story on this site!

The White Trash Veteran

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