Date: Wed, 14 Sep 2005 12:48:37 +0000
From: Randy Dragon <naughtydragon69@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Mission (military) Part 5

Disclaimer:
This story deals with mature subject matter and involves intimate and
sometimes rough 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.

The Mission (Part 5)

Rashad was equally amazed and amused that the conked out American was still
producing sporadic cum shots. It took another ten minutes until the spasms
of the hunk's cock subsided. When Rashad pushed the hot sweaty body aside,
carefully avoiding him from falling from the desk and disconnect the
breathing hose. Hank's cock slipped with a soft, plopping sound from
Rashad's sphincter that had become a murderous trap for the baby maker of
the narcotized stud.

Rashad rushed on naked feet to the swinging door and peeked cautiously into
the aisle. From the nurses station he heard the unmistakable noises of
raunchy love-making. Good girl, he thought, keep the young Amariki busy. He
returned back into the emergency ward.

So that was the feared Al-Dowary, the rebel leader mused. A machine made to
fight and to fuck. His eyes traveled across the broad back covered with
Celtic tattoos. The red-brown hair was buzz cut at the sides of the head.
Rashad playfully spread the marine's dimpled butt cheeks revealing the pink
puckered ass-hole. Rashad's index finger played with the relaxed sphincter.
The ass crack was clean shaven like the nut sack, no trace of the reddish
fur that covered his chest and groin. The semi-erect cock was still
impressive. The Iraqi noticed the two heavy testicles hanging low in the
wrinkled nut sack. Although he had been thoroughly milked, the nuts had
still almost the size of golf balls. The Amariki was a bull indeed.

Rashad rubbed the sweaty back with his hands and inhaled the musky, manly
scent. He was very well aware, how lucky he had been to take this hunk down.
If the American had not been out in the desert for over a month, deprived of
any true opportunity to get off -- Rashad knew that a stud like Hank could
never be satisfied by occasional jack-offs -- he would never had been that
careless and let down his guard.

Now Rashad would take him. The Amariki was up for a surprise, he could never
have imagined. As such, the American came as a gift from heaven, offering
entirely new options to the rebel movement. Rashad chuckled. It was a
ludicrous twist of fortune that in the end Al-Dowary would aid to the
rebel's cause more than he had ever harmed them. But first, the marine squad
leader would satisfy Rashad's personal pleasures.

The Arab shifted and rolled Hank's heavy body until he had him propped
across the examination table, legs, arms and head dangling down. He crouched
under the table and tied the wrists firmly to the ankles with traction
bandages. He found adhesive tape and fixed the torso to the table by
criss-crossing the tape over the tattooed back.

Having double-checked that he had securely tethered his bull, he removed the
hose and the tube but left the face mask and the bite block in place. Arms
akimbo Rashad positioned his narrow hips close in front of the American's
dangling head. He pulled the head up and fed his 9 inch circumcised man pole
into the force-opened mouth.

The hunky marine woke with a deep groan. Reality was sinking in gradually.
He remembered the rug-head trapping his wrists in an iron grip. The velvet
massage of the sphincter forcing him to spill his fuckin load, getting
drugged by the devilish apparatus and finally passing out in the arms of
this bastard.

He tried to move his arms, but couldn't. His wrists were tied and so were
his ankles.
In disbelief he realized that he was face-fucked and at that moment he
tasted cum, lots of cum that covered his throat and tongue. Rashad had been
so turned on that it took him only a few thrusts to spill a heavy load of
his Arabian man-juice into the marine's throat. Hank's jaws were efficiently
kept apart by the bite block and all he could do was swallow, gag and cough
miserably.

When it sank in what was done to him, Hank's mind snapped. Snorting with
rage the muscular marine struggled in his bonds. The traction bandages were
cutting deep into his flesh. His muscles were flexing bulging. The whole
table started to shake, but Rashad had no difficulty to control the furious
hunk's ravage.

He waited until his cum shots subsided, indulging in the sweet sensations,
which were provided by the loathing American's throat.

"If you that you won't make noise, I will take it off." the Iraqi bent down
and looked straight into Hank's crimson face.

Hank realized that he had no choice but to give in to the hated foe for the
moment. Heavily breathing he nodded. Rashad removed the mask. Hank was
spitting cum and saliva from his mouth. He felt nauseous from the enforced
anesthesia. Painfully he raised his dizzy head and tried to focus on what
the Arab was doing.

"How is my bull feeling?" the Iraqi asked almost casually.

"I'll kill you, I swear I'll kill you for that," Hank said in a low voice.

"Of course you will try Amariki," Rashad grinned, " but until then let me
entertain you, or would you like to continue entertaining me?"

"Fuck you!" Hank cursed writhing in his bonds.

The rebel leader snickered. He walked behind the American and embraced him,
rubbing his crotch against his ass. He would ride this bull raw.

"Get off! You ... arrghmmmmfff," Hanks shout was stifled by Rashad's big hand
that closed over his mouth.

"Shhh, we promised to behave like a good boy and make no noise," Rashad
purred. His hips wriggled and Hank felt the Arab's dick pushing against his
sphincter.

"I make you my whore, big man" Rashad whispered hoarsely and pushed.

Hank chuckled.

"Why are you laughing, Amariki?" the Iraqi asked startled.

"You can take my ass, motherfucker, but I won't be the bitch of your
pathetic Arab prick," Hank sneered, "I hope you have fun at least, but be
aware that I have fucked too many of your miserable brothers and sisters
already. What ever you can dish out I have done it to your kin already and I
can take it."

Rashad went mad. His dick thrust past Hank's ass muscle all the way, without
any lube, but the American laughed.

"That's all you have to offer, rug-head?" Hank sneered,"give me your best
shot, son-of-a-bitch!"

Rashad went berserk. He drove his dick inside the snickering marine with all
the power of his sinewy body. He could swear that he was repeatedly hitting
the big hunk's g-spot, but the stud never lost his composure.
Rashad's body was glistening from sweat. He was cursing and hollering, but
the big marine remained resilient. The Arab's moves were slowing down.

"Tired already?" Hank gloated. He hadn't been fucked that good since a long
time, but he wouldn't give the Arab the satisfaction of admitting this. This
was payback time for what the rebel had done to him.

Rashad was knackered. He could not believe that he hadn't succeeded to
conquer the American. His body was resting heavily on Hank's back. He was
gasping; his hips were bucking mechanically. His arms slid down Hank's
shoulders and reached around the chiseled chest. His fingers played absently
with Hank's tits.

"I'll get you, Amariki, I swear I turn you into a screaming bitch," Rashad
croaked unwilling to admit defeat. His exhausted body was almost glued to
the marine by the sweat of both men.

There was no reply. The Iraqi was wondering whether the American was faking
unconsciousness, but the hunk was breathing fast and then it dawned upon
Rashad, that the marine's body was suddenly rigid.

"Oh why didn't you tell me earlier?" now the Arab sneered and pinched Hank's
swollen man tits.

"Fuck you!" Hank hissed. He responded always very intensely to his nipples.
Now that the Iraqi had found out, he knew he was in trouble.

Rashad squeezed and kneaded Hank's pecs relentlessly, while his hips were
pounding with renewed energy.

"Nnnnghhh... shiiiittt," finally the American responded. He did not moan and
howl as Rashad had hoped but his self-control was shattered. The shell was
cracked and now the Arab sensed reactions to his stimulations all over the
marine's body.

"So finally the big Mister marine gets turned on by the fuckin' rug-head,
huh?" Rashad sneered. He caressed the hard nipples with agonizing softness.

Hank felt suddenly weak. He was almost ready to agree to any kind of sex
with the Iraqi and had to fight not to start groaning in uninhibited
ecstasy. But then his body took over. He felt the well-known contractions of
his balls and knew what was coming.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Hank cursed. His warm cum was oozing down his thigh.

When the sphincter tightened spasmodically Rashad knew he had forced the
American into a cum shot. Overwhelmed he gave up his resistance to his
climax and seeded the marine with his own gooey load.

"Aaahhh ... Yess Ammmaarrikkkiiiii," Rashad hang onto Hank's back until the
last of his spasms subsided. Then he jumped off his bull and slapped the
buttocks playfully.

"Well done Amariki, well done indeed," Rashad walked to a side-board to
prepare his next move, knowing that winning a battle didn't mean to win the
war.

"You are dead, rug-head, you are dead meat, I swear," Hank fumed. He
wondered what the Iraqi was doing.

"I don't think so. Once I have gelded you into a steer, your temper will
cool down Amariki. Be sure of that." Rashad snickered. He was busy preparing
instruments on a tray.
With gloat he showed a scalpel to the marine who watched in disbelief.

"Now, wait a minute!" Hank yelled.

Rashad poured a clear liquid from a brown bottle into a piece of absorbent
gauze he was holding in his hand.

"Very nice of you, taking me here, where everything is in place, chloroform
and instruments," Rashad turned to Hank with a broad smile, which sent
shivers of fear up the marine's spine.

"Fuck! You wouldn't..." Hank shouted.

"I have done this many times on my farm, you know? That was, before you
invaded my country, Amariki!" Rashad's voice was suddenly hateful.

"Motherfucker! You won't dare ...", Hank shouted in undisguised terror. His
entire muscle-packed body writhed and struggled against the bandages and
tapes.

"Nooo! ... uhmmrgh ... mfff, " Rashad silenced him by putting the chloroformed
gauze over the wriggling marine's mouth and nose.

"Mmmpfff...", Hank coughed and choked. The acrid smell filled his throat.
Desperately he tried to turn his head away, but the Arab followed him with
ease keeping the gauze in place. The chloroform was already working on his
system. His vision blurred and numbness was spreading through his body.

"Your fighting is pathetic, Amariki, you deserve to wake up as a stag,"
Rashad sneered, while Hank's struggling subsided.

When Hank opened his eyes again his limply dangling head faced the tiled
floor of the emergency room below him. A wave of nausea flooded his body.
Choking he puked the content of his stomach on the floor. After he finally
recovered, he remembered what Rashad had threatened to do to him. He froze.
There was no pain in his crotch. He raised his head and saw the Arab still
naked leaning against a sideboard. He was holding a glass jar that was
filled with a semitransparent dark red liquid. Inside some floating objects
were blurry visible. Hank's blood ran cold.

"I will take them as a souvenir." Rashad said without looking at the stunned
American.

"Naawwwwww!" The marine went berserk, when he realized that the rebel leader
had effectively castrated him while he was unconscious. He was struggling
like mad in his bonds and cursing and howling like a banshee. Rashad burst
out laughing. He had to put the jar on the sideboard and was wiping tears
from his eyes. While the marine was still in anesthesia he had discovered
the forensic samples in a fridge. It gave him the idea to play a devilish
joke on the American and now he watched gleefully how well it all had worked
out.

It took a while until Hank realized that he had been fooled. Heavily
breathing he slumped on the examination desk and went silent, while Rashad
laughed hysterically.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Corporal Tanker had appeared in the door.
His dog tags were clinging on his bare chest which was still flushed from
arousal like his face. The marine was bare-footed and naked to his narrow
waist. His camo pants were hanging low on his hips. The open belt was
dangling as Tanker had been in haste, when he was alerted by his Sergeant's
screams.
The nurse with untidy hair in her open blouse was watching the scene over
Tanker's shoulder. The burly Master Sergeant was buck naked strapped onto
the examination table his sexy butt pointing up. The naked Iraqi was playing
with a forensic sample and couldn't contain his laughter.

Rashad realized his fatal mistake. He had forgotten about the fucking
couple.

Tanker spotted his gun that he had left with Hank earlier. Rashad followed
his look and saw the weapon as well. During the struggle with the big marine
it had fallen down and was partly covered by Hank's discarded clothes.

The blonde marine sprinted across the room. From the corner of his eyes he
saw the Arab charging at him. To shorten the distance he dove for the gun,
landing heavily on the tiled floor. His hands grabbed the weapon. Without
stopping his momentum he threw his body around and aimed at the charging
Iraqi. But Rashad was too close already. He was diving as well and seized
the wrists of the American. His naked body slammed down on the Corporal. The
two gasping men wrestled. They were rolling on the floor. One time it was
Tanker, who was on top, another time the Iraqi.

"Help me!" Hank shouted to the nurse. The woman rushed to his side and
started to rip off the tape that was fixing him to the examination table.

"Take the scalpel. That is faster," Hank said, tensely watching the two
fighting opponents.

"Hang on Tank! I'll be with you in a minute!" Hank shouted.

Tanker had grown up on a farm and the farm work had provided him with a hard
well-muscled body, but he was not trained in hand-to-hand combat. When Hank
shouted, both fighters looked distracted at the brawny marine, to see when
he would be able to intervene. Rashad knew that he had no chance against
both Americans. He had to take the young buck out fast. Using the short
distraction he landed a heavy blow at the side of the younger marine's head.
Tanker shook his head to clear his blurred vision. With a triumphant shout,
Rashad wrestled the gun from him.

"No!" Hank yelled in desperation. The nurse who had fetched the tray with
the scalpel stopped on her way back from the side-board to the table. Tanker
folded both his fists and with a desperate blow he managed to hit the weapon
from the surprised Arab's hand. The gun slid across the room and came to a
halt right at the feet of the nurse.

"Take it! Fast!" Hank shouted on top of his voice, " Shoot the bastard,
shoot `em!"

Rashad pushed himself off the Corporal and rushed towards the nurse who was
about to pick up the gun. Realizing he would be too late he tried a
desperate distraction.
His bloodcurdling cry made the woman freeze and look at him. That was all he
needed.

"No!" Hank shouted again, frantically pulling at his bonds. Helpless he had
to watch as the naked Arab was slamming into the woman. Her head hit the
floor with a heavy thud rendering her immediately unconscious. The tray with
the instruments and the chloroform bottle smashed on the tiles. The bottle
broke to thousands of pieces and the acrid smell of chloroform was spreading
through the room.

"You fuckin' bastard!" Tanker had rushed after the Iraqi. Seeing what he had
done to the woman, he charged wildly at the rebel leader, instead of going
for the gun.

"Tank, don't ..." Hank howled in frustration as he had to watch the scene
helpless.

"I take that fuckin' rug-head out!" Tanker fumed delivering a kick of his
naked heel to the kidney of the Arab, who howled in agony. Tanker lifted his
foot and thrust a brutal kick at the Iraqi's head.

Rashad, however, anticipating this ducked under the attacking leg and
performed a roundhouse kick hitting the young marine's supporting leg.

"No way!" Hank couldn't believe what happened in front of his eyes. This
rug-head had been trained by an expert. Tanker's body seemed to hover for a
second in midair, legs flailing until he crashed to the floor.

"Fuck! Aargh!" the Corporal landed heavily on his back, but he was a tough
guy and now fuelled by his fury.

"You fuckin' bastard!" Neglecting the shards which were cutting in his
soles, Tanker charged again at the groaning Arab who was trying to get up
and avoiding the sharp shards.

The young fighter rammed his body into the rebel leader flattening him down
on the floor.

"Aaaaaaahhhh...!" Now it was Rashad's part to howl in pain. Shards were
cutting into his naked back. He was straddled by the Corporal, who pummeled
his face. Rashad tried to block the blows as best as he could. Between the
ongoing blows to his head and chest Rashad watched the marine's flexing abs.
He noticed the open belt that was dangling from the camo pants and the curly
treasure trail leading down into the halfway unbuttoned fly.
Following an impulsive instinct Rashad dropped his guard entirely, leaving
his face unprotected. He took a full blow to his cheek, while his hands shot
forward ripping the camo's front open. Buttons ripped and the jock's dick
came into view. Rashad's hand closed around the shaft and started to jack.

"Fuck! What ...?" Tanker's next blow stalled in midair. He couldn't believe
it. The rug-head was fondling him. In reflex he reached down to cover his
groin. While he was struggling with his torn pants Rashad reached up to the
buzz cut head and pulled the startled marine down into a forced kiss. The
totally surprised jock wrestled him. He only wanted to get out of the Arab's
kiss. Rashad's free hand grabbed around on the floor, looking for the
scalpel. He would gut the American for good. However he found only the gauze
he had earlier used on Hank.

"Noo..mmmmfff..nngghh", a disgusted Tanker pushed himself away from the
embrace.

"Fuck! You bloody faggot.." he yelled still sitting on the Iraqi's belly.

Lightning fast Rashad reached up again and shoved the gauze into the cursing
jock's mouth. His hand pushed up against Tanker's jaw and forced the marine
to bite into the chloroform soaked gauze. Sharp acrid smell filled Tanker's
mouth and dizziness numbed his mind. His hands shot up and he pushed the
Iraqi's hand off his jaw.

Finally he managed to get up, away from the Arab. He spat the sour gauze on
the floor and tried to fight the dizziness.

"Aaaahh! "a vengeful blow to his kidneys propelled Tanker to the examination
table. He stumbled and collapsed over Hank's body. His pants slid down to
his knees. Then Rashad was there and locked his neck brutally in a full
nelson.

"Shit!" Tanker howled. His body was writhing in the Iraqi's grip. The naked
feet were clapping on the tiles. The dick was wobbling between his thighs,
which were nicely sculpted from his outdoors horseback riding. His naked ass
was pressed against the Arab groin. But his entire struggle was futile. The
Corporal couldn't break Rashad's hold. His movements were already weakening.
The pressure on his neck became almost unbearable.

"Fu...urghhh," Tanker croaked in pain. Rashad smelled the panic in the sweat
that was erupting from the young marine's body. The American knew that in a
matter of moments his cervical vertebra would snap.

"Don't!" Hank's voice pleaded," please ...not the kid."

"Shiiittt! Sorry Sir , I ...I cannttt ...." Tanker resigned in his obvious fate.
The warm body was slumping like a rag doll against Rashad's body. The fight
was over.

"Noooo! You fuckin' bastard! I kill you, I swear I kill you ...", Hank howled
on top of his voice.

Rashad was surprised to see the big marine loosing his composure in the
presence of his squad man's imminent death. The rebel leader who considered
the American as equal sensed a way to penetrate his enemy's mental defenses.
He was pretty sure that torture would have had no effect on the tough
fighter and after all there was no information the marine could have that
would be of any importance for the insurgents at this time. The American
would serve in a much different way.
But I can break you  .... Teach you a lesson .... before you leave Amariki I
will break you ... Rashad thought. He loosened his stranglehold and looked
down at Hank. Tanker was barely conscious.

"Please ?!" Hank repeated. He had trouble to lift his head from his prone
position.

"Open your mouth, Amariki," the rebel leader ordered in a low voice.

"What?' Hank asked confused.

The Iraqi changed his hold. Trapping the semi-conscious jock's throat in the
crook of his arm he reached down and started to stroke the dangling cock.
The reduced air-flow would keep the young marine dizzy and the sexual
stimulus would keep him weak and horny.

"W-whaat? Uunghh...," before Tanker was fully aware what was done to him,
Rashad had already pumped him into semi-hard state. The young marine was an
easy prey. His fuck session with the nurse had stimulated his sexual system
and the young man was ready for more. The thumb of Rashad's brown hand was
rubbing over the piss slit and distributing the first drops of pre-cum over
the mushroom head. The Iraqi felt the warm body shuddering in his embrace.
His own dick hardened against the young marine's firm buttocks.

"Oh no! Please .... not that," Tanker realized what was going on. The rug-head
was playing with his balls.

Rashad was weighing the Corporal's balls in the palm of his hand. Still
enough left to play with, he thought.

"Show me what you have got, Amariki!" His hand moved right below the
mushroom head and pulled the skin tight down to the base of the penis: It
had taken just one expert grip by the Arab and the young marine dick stood
at attention.

"Uuhhh shit," Tanker groaned. His hips bucked forward until he was standing
on the tips of his toes. Rashad couldn't restrain himself from nibbling at
the young jock's earlobe. The nuts of the marine were twitching in the
swinging nut sack. Tanker felt a wave of sexual heat ravaging his
self-control.

"NNoo! Ohh huh S-sir he is ...huh ..Aawwww! Ffuuuckk!" Tanker turned into
modeling clay in Rashad's experienced hands. The Arab was licking his throat
and was softly biting his neck and shoulders.

"If you want the young buck to live, open up!" the Arab demanded hoarsely.

Hesitantly the big marine parted his lips. The rebel leader guided Tanker's
rock-hard, dripping cock straight into Hank's mouth.

"Blow him!" Rashad gloated.

Hank knew he had no choice. By now the rug-head controlled them both. He had
never encountered an Arab, who was so resilient in his fight and methodical
in his actions. This one was playing with their minds and bodies and he was
a skilled fighter. He was clearly a new breed of insurgent. The Master
Sergeant was confused. He could not read the Iraqi's intentions, he only
knew, if the fucker had wanted to kill them, he could have done it already
several times.

"Aaahh ....huhh huhh..", Tanker's dick was growing in girth. The salty taste
of pre-cum was gradually replacing the acrid flavor of both the chloroform
and his puke in Hank's mouth. The thought that this cock had been eagerly
fucking the nurse's pussy only an hour before, sent a tingling in Hank's
groin.

Tanker was covered in sweat. The young Corporal was dimly aware that he was
face-fucking his superior and he felt unable to do anything about it. He was
too much enthralled by what the Arab was doing to him and Hank's sucking
kept him hard. When he tried to pull his dick out of the Master Sergeant's
mouth the Iraqi's hand on his butt was gently pushing him forward again,
guiding him into a slow bucking rhythm.

"You like that lover-boy?" the Arab's voice whispered into his ear.

"Yeah, I like it," he croaked, his hands were still locked on Rashad's arm
that was controlling him.

"Play with your nipples, Amariki, make them hard, you will like it," The
voice in Tanker's ear whispered. The jock rubbed obediently his hands over
his sweaty torso. He squeezed his chiseled pecs and started kneading his man
tits. Shivers of pleasure were rushing up and down his spine.

The big Sergeant realized that the scene was getting to him as well.
Tanker's beefy body was toyed with by the sinewy Arab, who was wrapping the
young stud in layer after layer of sexual arousal and burning lust. The
moaning, writhing sex doll had nothing in common with the horny, cocky boy
hunk that had proudly bedded the nurse less than an hour ago.
Hank had secretly lusted after the firm body when they were out in the
desert, confined to enforced abstinence; however the Corporal seemed to be
as straight as they come and Hank had no opportunity to make a move on him.

The Iraqi was offering him the sexy country boy helpless throbbing and
juicing and so he was eagerly gobbling and sucking the Corporal's man meat.
Rashad realized that the big marine enjoyed it. The sentiment of triumph
turned into euphoria. He had both Americans by their balls. Rashad released
his stranglehold. If the younger Amariki had wanted it, he could have
started to fight again, but his eyes remained half shut and he continued to
buck and to play with his tits.

Rashad was losing his self control as well. He was throwing a raging hard-on
and was craving for release. His hands parted Tanker's buxom butt cheeks and
spat a huge glob of saliva in the shit chute. Rashad saw it oozing down and
when it reached the rosy sphincter he used his fingers to pull the puckered
hole apart.

"Ohhhh!" Tanker moaned when his ass was fingered. He liked it when a girl
was doing this to him and the sensation entangled him even further into the
web of lust, which was trapping him. His bucking accelerated. Hank's eyes
were closed by now. The slurping intensified.

The young marine felt the first contractions in his groins and tried to hold
back. He wanted the sensations to last for ever. Fingers entered his mouth
and he started to lick and to suck. Then something warm and big entered his
butt cheeks.

"Relax," the seductive voice whispered. Tanker wriggled his ass and Rashad
felt the resistance of the sphincter waning. It took just a little thrust
from his hips and he had the marine jock impaled.

"Fffffff...." Tanker hissed in sudden pain. His body went rigid.

"Don't stop! Go on faster now," Rashad's voice urged.

The Corporal continued humping Hank's face, but now he was riding on the
Iraqi's rod. Quickly he had accommodated and found a new rhythm. When the
body in front of him jumped again on his toes, arching his back, Rashad
chuckled.

"Oh yesss!" Tanker impaled himself again and again on the Arab's manhood.
His prostrate, enjoying the constant rubbing, was driving him mad. When his
sensitive dickhead touched the back of his Sergeant's throat he jerked back
only to jump moments later when the hard Arab cock hit is g-spot. The young
marine was caught in a rhythm, unable to escape and his constant moaning and
humping pushed Hank finally beyond his own self-esteem.

Rashad watched as the big marine's hips started to buck. Horny grunts
emerged from the fucked throat. The rebel leader's nuts were on fire.

"Uuuurghhaaa...", Tanker erupted in Hank's mouth with a Neanderthal howl. His
sphincter contracted and Rashad was immediately carried away. Groaning and
hollering the Iraqi pumped his man seed into the howling marine jock. Cum
and saliva was spilling from the corners of Hank's mouth and seeping down to
the floor.
Tanker doubled over and collapsed on top of Hank. He was gasping and tried
to comprehend what just had happened. He had fucked the mouth of his
Sergeant and the rug-head was still fucking him up his ass.

"Ohh nooo, fuckin' shiiit," the young marine groaned in shame and
desperation. His whole body was flushed and he was drenched in sweat. He
cringed when the Iraqi pulled his massive dick from his ass-hole. Tanker
could feel his gaping hole. He looked at his Sergeant seeking for help,
however, Hank's head was dangling powerless. The big marine was somehow
caught in a rocking motion. The round ass was flexing and an occasional moan
could be heard. Tanker couldn't believe that Hank was acting like a whore in
heat.

"You should cum as well Al-Dowary. It is not healthy for a man to jam his
juices." The Arab walked behind the big marine and squeezed the sweaty
buttock.

"Get your hand off me, bastard!" Hank had regained a part of his dignity,
but Rashad knew that he had weakened his foe dearly. The American could be
taken by now. He reached between the hunky thighs and closed his hand around
the 11 inch dick.

"Fuck you get your hands off!" Hank ranted and Tanker watched mesmerized.
The dick was twitching in Rashad's hand and when the Arab was kneading the
hefty shaft it started to harden. But Rashad didn't leave it time to grow
gradually. He rammed his finger in Hank's anus and simultaneously his thumb
was pressing into the sensitive region between the nut sack and the ass
cleft. The dick surged abruptly in his hand.

"Shit!" Hank's eyes bulged when he was jump started. He struggled in his
bonds.

Rashad removed his finger from the ass-hole and caught elegantly twisting
his wrist the wobbling nuts in his fist. His fingers closed slowly like a
vise, making Hank gasp.

Hank didn't know what the Arab was doing to him, he only knew he was
rock-hard. The squeeze of his balls was deftly but it didn't really hurt.

Then he found himself drowning in torrential lust. Without any warning his
body was catapulted into a mind shattering orgasm. His nuts gave in to the
continuous pressure and released his man juice in a giant uncontrolled
eruption.

"Fuuuck!" Hank yelled at the top of his voice. His body twisted as much as
the bonds were permitting and then he realized that, while he was unable to
control his body, the rug-head was.

With his firm grip that now strengthened right below the crimson mushroom
head, Rashad reduced the flow of cum to a trickle. Hank reacted as if he was
struck by a lightning.
"Aargh! Fuck! Shit! ...Huhhhh!" His entire body went into convulsions, turning
crimson red.

"Nnooo...aawiieewww uh..uh..uh" His screaming changed into piercing shrieks
and turned finally into an ongoing series of hysteric squeals and stifled
groans, while his seed was oozing agonizing slowly from the squeezed piss
slit.

"It's ok Amariki, it's ok. Now you will give me all you've got, isn't it?"
Slowly the Arab was milking his bull into oblivion.
It took Rashad almost 10 minutes until the big marine's balls were drained
to the last drop and during this 10 minutes he turned the callous hunk into
a wincing, babbling man child.

Tanker had watched in shock. Hank was sobbing. His entire mangled crotch was
beet red. The tiny dick, reduced to a mere 2 inch flaccid sausage, had
retracted into the shrunken nut sack. Rashad gloated over the scene. He
slapped the Corporal who was staring at the puddle of cum that had collected
under the table on his butt.

"Now it's your turn, lover-boy, you see how much he needs it," Rashad
grinned.

( to be continued...)