The taxi neared the main terminal building at Templehoffe Airport, all three passengers looking out of the windows at the austere concrete buildings that made up the complex. Planes flew overhead on the approach to the runway, you could pick out words and numbers on the undercarriage they where that close to the ground. As the planes went overhead the old Mercedes rattled as the engines roared overhead. The airport was a product of 1960's Berlin, severe concrete and glass angles adorned the main building, large sliding glass doors worked overtime to keep up with the amount of people coming and going with bags, trolleys and plastic bags that clinked with duty free bottles of wine and beer knocking together. The taxi made the approach to the departure drop off point, already there was a clamber for the taxi and before the three passengers could get out the driver was heckled for business. A large portly overweight German businessman made it clear that this was his taxi and promptly sat himself down on the front passenger seat as soon as it became vacant.
The only recompense for the takeover of the taxi was that they where left with a useful baggage trolley that were duly filled with the contents of the boot of the car. All three of them scratched around their pockets for some money and just had enough to pay for the fare and even give a small tip. They where left on the pavement while throngs of people shuffled passed them jostling for space and banging into their legs with suitcases on wheels. They looked slightly menacing to the German locals, all where wearing English football team colours and all the three of them had had their heads shaved only the other day. The sun was beating down and the although they managed to get into the confines of the air conditioned airport concourse sweat was pouring off all three of them, this made their England shirts stick to their firm muscled bodies, several tattoo's could be made out through the thin cotton material. They all wore shorts that showed off their cock and balls nicely, in fact Alan's cock hung almost to the point of sticking out of the bottom of the leg of the shorts. Their sweating was made worse by several gallons of beer that had been consumed over the last twenty-
While the process of checking was taking place John, the eldest and chunkiest of the threesome poked the other two in unison in their ribs and made a nod to the his left. All three glanced over towards a desk in the middle of the check-
They picked up the remaining bags and made their way past the desk where the police sat and headed for passport control. Both groups looked as menacing as each other, all had crew cuts or where shaved. An uneasy stand off took place as they walked past the policemen. Both looked at each other but Alan glanced down at their boots and immediately felt his cock hardening up in his shorts. He noticed also that one of the policemen had a huge bulge in his trousers and as they approached the passport desk they all looked at each other. Alan said "Fuck, did you see that lump in his trousers?" John and Mick agreed and all where gagging for a shag by this stage. Passport control went without incident but customs was another matter, the metal detector picked up Alan's cock ring and the officer had to do a hand scan with a portable scanner, it screeched as it approached his cock and the dial flicked over to the red. John followed Alan through the detector but this time a red light flashed either side of the frame, this attracted the five policemen's attention. All five of them left the desk station and walked over to passport control, Mick was the only one not to go through but he quickly followed and this sent the same alarm off. By this time another well-
The officer asked them for their passports and all three of them handed them over for inspection, he flicked through the pages of them all and turned them around as if he was looking at centre page spread in a grot magazine. But he handed them back and was polite and "Thank you". Alan turned around and the five policemen where standing at the open door, one of them had his fingers poised on trigger on his rifle and he could see that several passengers had stopped to be nosy at the proceedings. To the side of the door was a large one-
Alan quickly glanced at the other two lads and sauntered off into the room followed closely by the policeman. The door slammed behind them and a key could be heard turning in the lock. In the room where the rest of them stood two of the policemen walked over to John and Mick, both John and Mick where surprised how tall and beefy they where, these men obviously meant business and they where not going to argue with them. "Hands on your heads and turn around", one of them said lifting the rifle so that it pointed up to ceiling. Without hesitation they did as they where told, there cocks where that hard that they almost touched the pure white wall of the room. Mick who's legs where covered in tattoos of Union Jacks and motifs of skinhead bands felt the cold metal of the rifle on the back of his right leg, he shivered and his cock immediately stiffened up to rock solid proportions, so hard in fact that the elastic on his shorts stretched outwards. The end of the gun was carefully manoeuvred so it travelled up his arse crack and as it got over his shorts it lifting his England shirt up revealing a perfectly formed well muscled back covered in skinhead tattoo and a large dragon that wrapped it's self around his whole body. While all this was going on the two remaining policemen had left the room and locked the door behind them so the odds where now even&ldots;one on one. In the back room Alan was ordered to strip off, he did so leaving his shorts until last, he stood in the middle of the room legs spread and rock solid. The policeman walked around Alan without loosing his focus on his cock and arse and he put his rifle down on the floor and took out a pair of rigid handcuffs out of his pocket pouch. He played with them as if they where worry beads, spinning them around on his index finger. Instinctively for some reason Alan put his hands behind his back almost expecting the handcuffs to be put on the waiting wrists. Without much hesitation the policeman in one well practiced movement where placed on his wrists. Alan's cock was rock solid an a patch of spunk formed on the outstretched material, he felt a hand slip down his arse and in about the two seconds the shorts where around his ankles revealing yet more tattoo's on his arse cheeks. He stood there for what seemed an eternity has the policeman stalked around him occasionally feeling his stiff cock as he navigated himself around to the front of Alan again.
There he stood, motionless, legs spread on display, cock stiff as a board and dripping cream onto the floor. He glanced around him and noticed the medical examination bed has straps fitted to all four legs and a large belt in the middle for tethering the waist. In the far corner was a white cupboard with large Red Cross on it, partially opened he could just make some interesting medical equipment, a speculum could clearly be seen and a large chrome cylindrical object was perched up against a box of surgical gloves. On the shelf below was a biggest tub a lubricating gel Alan had ever seen. After a while he could feel the warm breath of the policeman on his neck and it wasn't long before that his hands where starting to ache with the weight of the solid metal cuffs. A hand slowly moved up Alan's back, it carefully noted the defined muscles and followed the outline of the dragon tattoo right up to his neck. As the policeman's hand got to the top of his back he squeezed Alan tight around the his neck and was duly jostled a few steps towards the bed, he feet lifted up and his shorts where left in a heap from where he was standing. Alan was forced to bend over the bed lengthways, his feet barely touching the floor but near enough to the straps to be put around his ankles. Alan's legs where kicked apart until both where strapped up, the waist strap was done up tight and two wrist straps where hoisted off the floor and clamped onto his wrists. He was now helpless but not in discomfort, his arse stuck up in the air just enough for the darkened hole to be exposed to the world. He could clearly see the contents of the medical cabinet now as the policeman opened both doors up to reveal a variety of instruments and boxes written in German with pictures of medical tools and instruments stuck to them.
By now Alan watched the policeman remove his jacket and hang it off the end of the rifle that was propped up in the corner of the room. He undid his belt and unclipped the top button on his fatigues and pulled out an enormous red-
He sensed someone standing in front of him pick the hose of the gas mask up, then the air was cut off. Alan managed to take one last gulp of air before there was total cut off, he started to squirm as the air was running out and he felt someone playing with cock, rubbing lube into his swollen cock head. He wanted to shot but held back as if his shot the experience would become nasty. So Alan held out, suddenly air was allowed again, he breathed quickly and grabbed what air he could before the next time came. It came alright, his gasmask filled up with warm piss, Alan had no choice except to swallow, the piss still came and he gagged on the warm fluid until he drunk the lot. His face stung with piss and it nearly made him puke. The air was restricted again but not entirely cut off, he felt someone messing around with the filter on the side and sure enough as he anticipated the sure odour of poppers filled the mask up. His heart pounded and he could feel his arse going slack, he was aware that more fingers where been forced up his crack and he squirmed around on the bed. The gasmask was now a stinking smell of piss, poppers and rubber; he moved his lower body up and down on the bed, his cock just touching the end of the mattress.
After a few minutes he could hear people gobbing on his arsehole, he felt it trickle down his smooth cheeks. Some thing metallic was placed on his back and he felt a hand on each side of his arse, both parted the cheeks and exposed the ripe gaping hole in unison. His hole twitched and contracted and as the air got more restricted his arse would open up even more. The object was taken off his back and sure enough the prongs of the speculum where inserted up his hole. At this point the air was cut off again, as it was forced up breathing became difficult and the rubber of the gasmask started to contract onto his face as air ran out. He struggled and after a while the speculum had been rammed right up his hole to the hilt. The gasmask was released again and he took a deep breath, his whole body moved up as his chest expanded. Alan started to feel the prongs of the speculum expand in his hole and at the same time felt warm piss running down his back and arse crack. The cold chrome of the instrument became more apparent as it opened up further. He let out muffled groans and was subjected to more poppers and piss, his hands outstretched and fingers went taught, his wrists chafed on the cuffs and he had to relax. By now his arse was at full stretch, he felt like he was going to burst at any moment, his hole was that tight that there was no movement to even contract the hole. At this stage all three policemen took it in turns gobbing up the red hole, one of them got his cock out and pissed right into the crevice. Alan felt the piss warm up his hole, but with one swift movement the device was removed, Alan's hole quickly contracted trapping any piss that happened to remain up there. He let out a deep moan as his arsehole tried to reconstruct itself. It wasn't long before he felt something bigger go up there, it was obviously someone's fist, fingers first then a bit more lube then the whole fist was up. His arse squelched with lube, gob and piss and the policeman took it in turns fisting his hole, while two worked the rear one was working the gasmask. As Alan got more relaxed his body slumped flat on to the mattress, one of the policemen took Alan to limit with gasmask and he was just about to go over the edge when the air supply was returned. By now all of them had worked his arse out and where thrusting right up to their forearms, one of them whacked his arse with a belt and he could feel a wheal rising where it had landed, this happened about ten times and by the eighth time his arse was welted to fuck. This just added to pleasure and more so his whole body was tilted to one side as surgical clamps where put on his tits and done up tight.
Alan lay there groaning with pleasure as the pain intensified, his balls where now subject to torture. He felt a boot press them up against his arse and press down hard. The bed moved forward with the pressure and the metal legs scratched on the tiled floor. Alan yelped, the gasmask thought was yanked from his head and he squinted while his eyes adjusted to the brilliant white light. The same cock was thrust in his gob and Alan swallowed it and he could taste cum in his gob. Sure enough the policeman's cock exploded right in Alan's gob, he was taken aback by the force of it and the spunk was fired right down the back of throat. Alan continued to suck the head dry and made sure that no spunk was left un-
Block and Tackle
Even though with the recent outbreak of Foot & Mouth in and around the country, John still insisted taking his pet dog for a walk across the fields at the back of his house. He'd always lived here and always loved the walk as it crossed an army training ground, but the training ground was also farmland that had sheep and cows on it. At the end of the road where he lived are several signs warning of the closure of the footpath that it sandwiched between the training ground and the fields, although even now there can still be heard the rumble and clatter of battered army Land Rovers trundling up and down the path. On one side of the path in a field surrounded by tall trees is the old farm house, a large red brick built Victorian building than surprisingly survived almost intact despite the place been used as a local hang out for the local youth to get pissed, lads shagging birds and drug taking. Most of the windows were boarded up when the farmer moved out because of the training area and the odd stray bullet must of hit the house as holes in the brick lay testament to the soldiers bad aiming.
It was a Sunday morning, John looked out of the window that overlooked the fields and despite it been 7.00am usually this path would have several people walking their dogs on it buy now, but most have taken heed of the sign and stayed away. Also his parents gone to see his auntie in Enfield so he had the place to himself. He got out of bed and looked at himself in the mirror, the dark sunken eyes from the four cans of Carling from the night before and the several spliffs had taken their toll. But standing there with his No.1 Beckham crop, tight Adidas football shorts on with his cock poking out of the bottom of them and the firm smooth defined body would make any skinhead drool! John had just left school and at 16 there wasn't much to do around the small town he lived in except go for walks in the country so the Foot & Mouth crisis was a real pan for him, but for only one reason. On his walks around the fields he would often stop to talk to the soldiers that would skive off from training and prop themselves up against the fence that separated the path from the training ground. He always said to them that he wanted to join the army so that he could travel and learn about guns and fighting. But what the soldiers didn't know that John was a bender, John would sit at home wanking over the walks and his encounters with the soldiers although they never did nothing with each other fearing that he would get a good kicking and fuck his chances up of becoming a squaddie. He would sit and talk to them about pointless subjects just so he could watch them in their tight combats and boots, he would even get the odd ciggy off them as well.
John's mother knew that he was a queer, but his dad would batter him if he ever found out, partly because John's dad was in the town's one and only skinhead gang and often he would go around night beating the crap out of anyone who crossed him. This influence on John should of made him into a real skinhead but John never liked the idea of beating people up for no reason and this the cause of most arguments in the house at night between them all. He was lucky enough though that his dad would buy him all the right skinhead kit, right down to having the tattoo's that really pissed his mum off, one like Union Jacks and pseudo Nazi stuff. But it all looked so good on his body. He was lucky as well, his build was like his dad's, muscular and powerful complete with a nine incher to go with it that often showed though whatever he was wearing. At times he often though that the soldiers were looking at his cock and arse and on several occasions had to hide his stiff cock by pulling down his jacket over the protruding bulge. But the looks were mutual, he would stand and look at the soldiers cock's and tight arses and some of them even bent over just to surly tease John. But with all this flaunting John had never been fucked, wanked off by another man yet alone got stuck into a gangbang. The furthest he got to sex was wanking over some army magazine and the Beckham picture on his bedroom wall, although he did poke his dad's hammer handle up his arse sometimes and put a bag on his head when he wanked off, usually this had the desired effect and he shot his load right over his head onto the headboard! He also found the another use for bulldog clips and would often wack them on his tits for added pain, also would drop burning wax onto his balls but sometimes he would miss and get wax on the carpet or sheets and spend a lot time explaining to Mum was wax was doing upstairs.
After a bit of watching telly the dog starting barking for it's walk, but with no where to walk to it looked liked the back garden. But the dog wasn't having any of it, so he thought "Oh fuck this" , got up, threw some old combats and boots on, put the dog on the lead and pissed off out the front door and made his way to the path. He was thinking to him self the worst that can happen is that can tell him to turn around and go back. So with no one looking he quickly turned down the alley at the side of the house on the corner of the street and made his way along the path. It was eerie and very quiet, no bleating from the sheep, no mooing from the cows&ldots;..Just the wind gently blowing though the tall trees. John could hear church bells from a distant village, the only loud noise were coming from his footsteps on the fine gravel on the path. The whole area was covered in a layer of dew and the old farmhouse was shrouded in mist, he could even hear his own breathing and the expelled breath lingered in the morning air. The path swung around and out of site of the town, all that could be seen was the fence and thick shrubs on one side with the army training ground behind it, on the other side was the row of trees covering the old house.
John stopped for a moment and leant up against the gate that took the path across open fields and towards the distant church. He lit a cigarette up and went into a blank, staring across the wide vista. All of a sudden he became conscious of something very cold poking in the back of neck, he starting to sweat a bit and moved his head slowly to find that there were five soldiers standing behind him, fully armed. As he completed the turn he said "Oh Shit" as he looked at one the soldiers he recognised from previous encounters. By this time the loaded rifle was pointing strait in his face and his eyes where transfixed on the barrel of the gun. "Didn't you see the fucking signs then"? Said one of the soldiers pushing the rifle into his cheek, this made him stagger bag and he was pinned up against the gatepost. "Yeah, I did, so what"? John said not taking the situation seriously enough. "You fucking stupid or summit"? Another soldier bellowed whilst at the same time putting his hand around his throat and forcing him hard up against the gatepost. At this moment John knew that he was in the shit and that this wan no joke. John couldn't help the fact that his cock was starting to hard and although he was shitting himself he was as horny as fuck. "You fucking stupid queer cunt" the soldier with the gun said, "what shall we do with the piece of shit then lads"? All five of them stared at John's boyish looks and the look of terror on his face. The soldier with the gun took the gun from John's face and smiled at him and said "Only joking mate", then suddenly rammed the barrel strait into John's guts. He instantly keeled over, winded and in a pain. The dog was barking at the soldiers and was trying to snap at their legs, with one boot from one the soldiers the dog was out cold. John shouted " You bastards", all the soldiers sniggered and one said "It's your turn you snotty wretch". " You know you ain't supposed to be down here so were gunna teach you a lesson," he said with a grin on his face. One of the soldiers leant over and grabbed him by the hand and wrenched him to his feet and with a one swift movement twisted John's arm around his back and with the other arm put him n an arm lock from behind. John spluttered for air as his gripped him harder. "Come one yer cunt", the soldier ordered, "were gunna have fun with you". Besides all this commotion John's cock was rock hard and he wondered if the squads had seen the spunk stain forming on his tight combats. After a bit of discussion between the soldiers two of them frog marched John towards the old farmhouse. One of them ran forward and booted the door open whilst the one holding John marched him in and up the stairs to the bathroom. By now the bathroom's once gleaming white tiles where covered in piss, shit and moss and the floor was awash with old shit stained newspapers and broken roof tiles that had fell from the decaying roof. They pushed John against the back wall and he slumped over a toilet that was filled with mouldy shit, puke and old needles from previous drug sessions. John nearly wretched with the stench of it all but in a strange way he found it all rather horny. Surprisingly enough the old iron bath was filled with water, but it was either piss or water from the hole in ceiling, one of the soldiers grabbed him by the scruff the of the neck and plunged his face strait into the murky water, the shock of it made him thrash around, his legs kicking and through the water he could hear muffled laughs. They pulled his face out and it covered in slime and they rammed his head under again. This time he took a gulp of air and tried to hold out as long as possible, but after a few seconds he was struggling around. One of the soldiers booted him the ribs and this made him instantly bold up old out of the bath. The soldier holding him was forced to let go and John fell to the floor dripping water all over the soldier boots. "Fucking lick 'em cunt face". He did as he was told and licked the dirty black wrinkled leather, it tasted of mud and one the soldiers put his boot on the back of John's neck so he had to taste the leather. After a while he became more relaxed and slumped legs spread across the floor with both hands firmly gripping one of the soldiers' boots. "Fucking queer, You a queer, you take cock then poofta"? One of the soldiers shouted loudly right in his ear. "Yes Sir, I am" said John sheepishly. He was no position to argue, he felt a barrel of a gun run across his cheek and down the back of neck, he was able to roll over on to his back and survey his captors. All of them were about twenty-
By now he was rock hard and the top of stiff cock poked through the pure white pants. He pulled them off over his hard cock; it sprang to attention and lay flat on his stomach. One of the soldiers stuck his boot on the stiff cock and pressed down rearly hard, nearly crushing his balls at the same time. "Ahh, fuck mate", John moaned as the soldier turned his boot around to maximise the pain. The two soldiers standing at the back of John both pinned his wrists down to the floor so he was unable to move the top half of his sweaty, dirty body. He yelped as the back of his hands where trodden into the hard floorboards. All the soldiers sniggered at him as he lay there helpless, they started to gob on him, it landed on his face and he tried to avoid the onslaught but every so often one of the soldiers managed to gob strait in his mouth, making him gag on it. "Fuck this lads", one of the soldiers said with a grin on his face and he chucked the gun on the floor and undid his flies and got his cock out. John looked up briefly and saw that his cock was out, his mouth was now drooling at the thought of a dirty squaddies cock been rammed down his gob. In fact by now all the soldiers had got their cocks out, they contrasted against the dark green combats, the soldier standing at the front of John caught his eye, he couldn't help noticing that the soldiers cock was fucking huge, even in it's limp state, he wanted it in his gob to taste but as he thought it one of them started to piss on his face. The warm fluid was a welcome feeling as it washed the grime off, one more started pissing on him and soon they all had a go at him. He opened his gob as one of the soldiers stood right over his head and pissed strait down into his begging mouth. John had never done this before but was learning fast, he couldn't keep up with the flow of it all, and he splattered and spat some out as his mouth got filled up with it. Piss had fell all over his body, on his face it mixed in with the gob and slime and it ran over his cheekbones and down his neck. One of the soldiers put his boot over his mouth and nose and John already helpless as his hands where pinned down started to writhe about the air was draining form his body. Faded moans could be heard coming from him, but his cock was still rock hard and spunk started to ooze from the swollen red end. His chest rose and fell attempting to try and get air into his sweaty body, the writhing soon went into struggle, one of the soldiers rammed his boot between his legs and forced his balls apart with a crushing blow, they turned blue as the pressure was applied. He could hear them laughing as excitement turned into panic, but nether the less he wanted it to continue. The soldiers released their grip on his wrists knowing full well he had no energy left to fight back. John found him self grabbing the soldiers boot and even helping him press down even more. He found that he could just about breath, he could taste the piss and dirt ridden boot through his lips now and instead of thrashing around he stretched his legs out and relaxed as he cherished the pain. After what seemed liked an eternity the boot was lifted off his face, he let out a gasp and breathed in deeply several times as he lay there spread eagled and helpless. He could hear his dog panting in the background and looked over to the door. He could see the dog sitting in the doorway, he thought the soldiers had killed him, but he seemed alright, it was weird though, John couldn't cope with the dog looking as his captors tortured him slowly. But his thoughts soon drifted off again and he was picked up and forced to stand up against the wall with his back the soldiers. He face was pressed hard up to the wall and one of the soldiers rubbed the barrel of his rifle over his back and slowly down to his rounded arse. His legs where kicked apart and without asking he put his hands on his head and waited.
He felt two hands spread his arse cheeks and the soldier with the gun ran the cold steel down his crack and paused at his tight hole then carried on and carried on till he could lift his balls up with the barrel. He lifted the barrel up and forced John to stand on tiptoes. One of the other soldiers knelt and started to gob at John's arse crack, the spit ran down his smooth arse and dripped off onto the barrel. The barrel of the gun was slowly manoeuvred towards the gobbed up hole and slowly forced into his shitter. John moaned and begged for them not to fuck him. The cold made his arsehole contract and the soldier forced it right in up the sights. He pulled it in and out for another few minutes whilst the other soldiers had dropped their trousers and started to wank their cocks hard. John had remembered a mate who had been in prison that had been shagged for the first time; this was running though his mind. His mate said that it fucking hurt and it took six lads to hold him down whilst they stuffed it up his hole. John thought of this and started to get tense as he knew they where going to stuff him. The soldier kneeling on the floor started to probe his moist hole with his fingers and forced them right in, then two fingers went up. John squealed as he rammed them up his hole. The soldier with the gun managed to get the stock of it across John's neck and locked his head up against the wall, he face was contorted as the his cheeks were forced against the decaying wall paper and the mould. He snorted like a pig and started to struggle as the fingers delved deeper into his hole. "Shut yer fucking gob will yer" the soldier ordered, he continued "this will fucking teach you to fuck with us". John knew that this was the time, he also remembered his mate told him to relax as they rammed it in, so he let his body go lax and waited. He felt someone gobbing on his arsehole again and rubbing the gob around it making sure that the hole opened up as was well lubed. He thought they were going to shag him against the wall but he was wrong.
He was marched into another room, this one had most of the ceiling down and the joists where exposed, you could see right up into the roof space, he noticed the blue sky and sun beams racing through the musty atmosphere hitting him the eye. He could pick out the soldiers clearly now, one had stripped off except for his boots and leaned up against the wall rubbing his cock with a smile on his face. They kicked John's legs from under him and he fell to the floor in a heap. It was then he noticed thick chain hanging from one of the joists with two huge hooks dangling off the end, John was pinned to the floor again, this time face down. His hands where tied behind his back with old string that chafed his wrists, a pair of the soldiers pissed army pants were crammed into his gob and tied in with some webbing. He struggled for air, but lied motionless. They all started booting him again, in the ribs, his bollocks and one landed right up his arsehole. He grunted but didn't make to much commotion. Rope was tied around his legs tight and one of the soldiers pulled the hook down to where John was lying, he hooked it around the rope and checked to make sure that John's hands where tied good and proper. In no time he was hanging up side down dangling there with his cock still rock hard and his arse waiting for a shafting. Before the fun started they took it turns and pissed on his chest, it ran down to his neck and started to soak the already pissed stained pants. John tried in vain to get some air down his mouth; all that could be heard was muffled breathing and snorting. A piece of old string was wrapped around his bollocks and pulled tight, one of the soldiers pulled it till he started swinging, as he swung back the soldier who had stripped off grabbed him by the waist and started to force his fat cock into the gobbed up hole. John remembered his mate in prison and tried to relax his hole. He started to struggle as the squaddies cock pushed harder into his hole, John's groans where replaced by cries of pain as the whole of the nine inches was forced up his hole. The soldier gobbed on his cock for more lube and with one more thrust rammed it right up to balls. John's body flung forward but was stopped by another squaddie kneeing him the chest. His hole was stretched now and the pain was intense as the soldier's tool rammed further into the hole. "Take it you cunt", the squaddie moaned as he rammed harder and harder. John managed to spit the rag out of gob and gasp for air; the pain subsided into a numb throb as the cock was pushed home. One of the other squaddies knelt down at John's face and poked his fat hairy cock into his gob and pissed in it. John's forehead was swinging in piss and muck off the floor and his legs where aching from the rope. On of the other soldiers on looking took his stiff cock and knelt down as well and rammed it into John's gob and started face fucking him. He gagged on the fat head and nearly puked on it. The thrusting from behind got more intense as the he was about to shoot his load up his arse. Then with one thrust from behind and a grunt from the soldier, John's arse was awash with warm spunk. He felt it go right up his hole, the pumping stopped and the soldier left his cock up there until he drained his balls up John. "That'll teach you to fuck with the boys", the soldier said. "Now take this". His cock went limp and John's arse was filled hot steaming piss, he thought his arse was going to burst, but he took it like a man. The rope was let go and he fell to the floor in a heap, panting and gasping for air. The soldier was still standing there with his cock still pissing. He lay there for a while on his back, drained of all energy, piss seeping form the stretched and sore hole. The other soldier who pissed in his gob crouched down and forced his cock into his gob and said, "Get a load of this mate"! He spunked right down his gob, it filled his mouth up with warm cream and he had no choice except to swallow the spunk. He choked again but continued licking what was left of the squaddies cock.
He was totally fucked now, his head moved side to side, panting and moaning. Incoherent speech came from John as he tried to get a grip on his senses, all the soldiers stood by as he lay their, stripped and filthy and covered in piss, spunk and grime from the floor. His wrists and ankles where hurting from the rope and his arse was still seeping piss and spunk. Most of the soldiers got dressed whilst they waited for John to make a move. John stood up and surveyed the soldiers who had him at the same time feeling his arse and rubbing spunk from his gob. "Dirty cunt liked it," one of the soldiers said, the others agreed as they did themselves up and straitened their kit out. John didn't know what to say and he sniggered with them in hope of building some sort of friendship with them all. One of the squaddies kicked John's filthy clothes other to him and said, "Get dressed mate" in a tone that made John realise that the session has ended. Three of them left the room and John finished getting dressed. "So you wanna join the Army now mate"? John got his breath back and his dog came over and sat next to him, albeit a bit shook up from the kick, "Err, yeah&ldots;sure will now mate", looking at the soldier in the face. "Good then, you know where to come then". John nodded. As he got up from doing his laces up the squaddie grabbed him by the throat and snarled at him face to face "Not a fucking word mate, or your dead". John thoughts fuck it and put his hand on the squaddies cock and said "No Sir, not a word". The soldier let go and walked out of the room, John was dressed, although his clothes where filthy. He took the lead of his dog and walked back up the path to his house and not a soul was about. No sign of any soldiers at all.
He got back home and chucked all his clothes in the washer before his parents got back, he had to go up stairs and have another wank. He bent over and surveyed the bruises that adorned his body and decided to have a bath. After the bath he crawled into bed and didn't wake until the following morning. He was awoke by my his Mum giving him a cup of tea and a letter. His curiosity forced him to open the letter; it was from the MoD. All it said that he was to report to the base at 10.00am that day, he looked at the clock, 9.00am already. He quickly got some best clothes on and left the house without his parent knowing and made his way to the base. He got to the reception and behind the desk was one of the soldiers that had him from yesterday. His cock twitched and there was a wry smile from the soldier who said "your in the Army shit head". John looked at him and just said "Yes Sir, I'm yours". That was it, they both went off into a room that was occupied by the five soldiers and a desk...
On the right tracks
The No. 134 trundled down the hill towards Archway tube station passing under the bridge, Stuart gazed at the skyscrapers in the distance though the dirty windows and rested his elbows on the ledge in front of him as if he was on the bridge of some great ocean going liner, he made a porthole through the muck and nicotine on the window and looked down at the pavement, there weren’t many people at this time of night, it was the last bus, gone 11.30pm so most of the local pubs had chucked out their punters. The only people roaming around where shopkeepers pulling shutters down and stray dogs rummaging through the days left overs stacked in piles waiting the binman to come.
As his stop came closer he noticed a group of lads chatting outside the tube station, what caught his eye was the station guard about to draw the shutters across the empty ticket hall, as the bus drew nearer the group of lads dispersed leaving three of them talking amongst themselves in the twillight of the closed tube station. The bus stopped and Stuart made his off the bus and waiting until it pulled away and pretended to look in a shop window. The reflection revealed that three lads he knew from a skinhead club in the Eastend, so with a bit of quick thinking he ran across the road to the tube station, paused briefly so that they could see him, then carried on walking to a chip shop about thirty feet away. They all stared at each other, Stuart made a point at looking at the tight jeans one of them had on. In fact the two standing the pavement side if the shutter where in there full skin kit, this was in stark contrast to the other lad who after many times was seen in his skinhead kit many a time at the club but looked somewhat out of place in his London Underground uniform. Stuart got some chips even though he weren’t hungry and sat on a bench just outside the station entrance, he put on a mean look and sat spread legs munching chips whilst looking down at his boots. He glanced up from time to time to check to make they where still looking at each other, realising he was coming to the end of the bag of chips he slowed down eating, put the bag of chips on the bench and place his left hand on his cock. The lad in the uniform nudged his mates and nodded his head in the direction of Stuart. All three of them stared at Stuart and muttered between themselves. After a few minutes the chips had gone and Stuart was thinking he might of blown his chances, but the two lads who stood on the pavement had disappeared into the station and the guard followed them in to the semi darkness.
He paused, turned to Stuart who was just visible and got his cock out, the white flesh contrasted on the blackness of his uniform. It didn’t take much time to realise that Stuart was on to a winner here so without any hesitation he chucked the remaining chips on the pavement and sauntered over to the shutter. There was just enough gap for him to get through, he knew the station well so he walked into the dimly lit ticket hall and saw a light coming from a half open door, he heard voices but couldn’t pick out any words. He was stopped dead in his tracks by the guard slamming the shutter closed, he heard keys jangling as the guard locked the shutters and switched off the remaining lights left on. Stuart wondered how he got passed him but realised that this was someone else. He felt alone, very alone, the rumble of the escalators stopped as the station slowly wound down for the night. He looked at he open door at the end of the ticket hall, pushed it open and realised it was a spiral staircase, this was the emergency route from the platforms so he thought to him self “fuck it, in for a penny in for a pound” and started the long decent to the bottom of the staircase. He could hear footsteps and voices coming from the bottom of the stair well and a draught was getting stronger, but the footsteps stopped and the voices started to get louder and louder, he thought to him self that he must be at the end of the stairs and sure enough he emerged onto a era empty platform except for a tube train that had half emerged from the far tunnel and was destined to go to Morden at some stage of the next day. By now the platform was lit by dim lights either end and one in the middle, the only bright light coming form inside the train.
He could see three people inside walking through the carriages into the part of the train that was still in the tunnel, so as he got to the fist door on the train he pressed the open button and got on. This was the first time he had has a whole train to himself and peering through the length of the train he could see the three people moving away from him. He started the walk to end of the carriage and just as he was about to open the end door there was a hiss from behind him and the train doors all closed in unison. He momentarily lost his balance as the train backed up in to the tunnel and as the station platform disappeared from view he made his way through the train carefully jumping from one carriage to the next. Every so often a bright blue spark would light the whole train up and as it jolted slowly down the tunnel, the lads who he was following where getting closer. All of a sudden it stopped dead, the light flickered and he could see that the all three of the lads had jumped off the train through a open door and gone into a arch at the side the tunnel. He followed them in, the first thing that hit him was the smell of damp and piss, the brickwork flaked and he could hear dripping water that sounded like a clock ticking away on a mantle piece. One of the lads, tall, of slight build adorning a mohichan sat on a makeshift chair clutching a baseball bat, he sat there tapping the end on his thigh. The other two stood up against the far wall, slightly turned so that their faces where obscured, but neither if them had any hair and whilst one of them was the guard the other one was dressed in green camo’s, boots and a ripped MA jacket. It looked more of a meeting of the Mafia than a hopeful sex session and this made it all the more exciting for Stuart.
The lad on the chair rose up and said “ Oi, cunt, get on the floor”, Stuart hair was tingling on the back of his neck and he couldn’t stop his cock from starting to press up against his jeans as it started to go hard. Unfortunately for Stuart he responded to slow and there was a sudden deep thudding noise as the baseball bat struck Stuart across the ribs, he fell to the floor and used his hands to steady him self. The floor was cold and wet and the stench was overpowering but it was to late to start worrying now. A short pause tool place as the all three lads gathered around Stuart heaped on the floor. He felt his arse warm up with piss, then as the piss started to seep through his jacket the lad with the bat kicked Stuart’s hands from under him and he fell flat on the floor on his chest. A pool of piss had formed where the floor had worn away and it started to soak through to his skin. Stuart felt a boot on the back of his neck as the lad with the bat started to force his head on to the cold and damp brickwork of the floor, by now Stuart’s face was embedded in the brickwork or so it seemed and his lips where now touching the filth on the floor. Some one from behind kicked his legs apart and put his boot in between them and pressed hard against his bollocks, his cock was already stiff and he could feel it pressing on the cold floor. The lad with the bat moved around to the front of Stuart taking great care not to release his foothold on Stuart and dropped the end of the bat on the floor, it made Stuart flinch and he heard the lad behind him say “ you know where that’s going don’t you cunt face?”. Stuart tried to make a grunt but the force of the boot on his face was making his jaw hurt and he relaxed as he tried in vain to ease the pressure. “That’s going up yer fuckhole mate” said the guard, the two behind Stuart moved to side of him and quickly grabbed Stuart by the elbows and frog-
His face was scatched and bleeding as his face was dislodged from under the lad’s boot, he stank of piss by now and he could feel someone tugging at his belt and flies. I one quick sudden movement his arse was exposed to moist air and with out much pause he felt someone kick him on the of his arse, fuck it stung, he thought to him self. He felt more warm piss running up his back and they now took it in turns gobbing around his arsehole. He felt a finger probe up the moistened hole and he was told to suck on a cock. The third lad who had took a back seat so far flopped an enormous tool out of his jeans and rammed it into Stuart’s gob, he choked violently on the huge piece of meat but quickly adapted a position so that he could take most of it in. A hand was on the back of his head now and the lad rammed his cock in further until Stuart gagged on it and he made a puking noise and sure enough he threw up all down the side of the cupboard and on to the lad ‘s boots.
By now his trousers where around his ankles and his jacked was up around his neck, he could feel all three of them talking pot shots at his arse with their boots and was becoming aware of bruises and cuts. After a while somehow they all managed to flip him over on his back, his head dangled over the side of cupboard and his legs where up in the air, helped by the lad who had just rammed his cock deeper in to Stuart’s gob. He had just enough time to glance up and see both the guard and the other lad drop their kegs to reveal two huge lumps of meat. One of them was still lunging at his hole with his fingers which was quite nicely moist and stretched by now. The other lad still kept ramming in cock in his mouth and also started to rub the end of the bat around Stuart’s stiff cock that started to leak spunk all over his front with excitement. The cold metal end of the bat was pressed up against his balls and as the bat was pressed firm into them he moaned. Stuart’s whole body has relaxed and his head just dangled there over the edge of the cupboard as the red swollen bit of meat kept been forced into his mouth. He felt sharp fingernails pinching his tits and as the groaning got loader the guard lunged at him with his fat tool and rammed it right up his arsehole. Stuart gagged on the cock in his gob and gasped for air as the guard pushed it right up the hilt with no stopping. By this time Stuart was sweating and his whole body was covered in a fine layer that made him shiver at the slightest breeze. He looked up and at the ceiling and for a moment his mouth was free and he could breath, but all of a sudden one of the lads pissed strait in his gob, he gagged and spat some out over the floor, but this pissed the lad off with the bat so he covered his mouth and nose with his hand and made Stuart gasp for air. His chest rose as he arched his back up on he cupboard, his tits where as sore as fuck now and under the confusion of loosing his composure he felt something even larger go up his arse. Under the shear pain of it all his back fell back against the cupboard and his head turned to get air, not even the pressure of one of the lads could prevent him from getting air, the pain was almost unbearable but he had time to rise up and notice that the bat end had been forced into his stretched hole. He was moaning and every so often yelped as the bat was pushed harder up. Another shower of piss cascaded on his face and balls that was covered in sweat and it dripped around his arsehole and formed a big pool on the floor. After a short while the lad who had the baseball bat stuffed a old rag into Stuart’s gob to cover the noise up, although the muffled sounds of pain could still be heard. He made no attempt at moving although all three of them where standing gulping at his red arsehole dripping with piss and slime. But somehow they managed to flip Stuart back to the position on his front and took it turns stuffing his arsehole.
Every so often he felt warm piss running over the already warm hole and he heard the noise of all three of them gobbing on his arse. After about five minutes the guard rammed it so far up Stuart that he almost fell off the cupboard and he felt the warm spunk going up his arsehole, soon afterwards the other two lads followed suit and rammed him all the way home. His clothes where covered in muck, grime, oil and stank of piss, but after the ordeal one of the lads helped him off the cupboard then without warning grabbed him from behind and put him in a arm lock around the neck. He held him tight whilst the guard sucked at his cock furiously and wrenching his bollocks down to the floor. Soon he just had to shoot and did so all the guards gob, it seemed to shoot buckets and he was struggling for breath as the lock on his neck was even tighter, but after he shot his body went limp and relaxed. The mohichan released his lock on him and pushed him away from him. “had enough mate?” one of them said smiling and doing his trousers up. “Fuck, yeah, fucking arse stretched though!”. They all gave a smirking laugh and they all got dressed although Stuart’s clothes where filthy with piss, oil and grime. They all left the small room and followed the guard back through the twillight of the labyrinth of the station and they stopped in the stairwell and made sure that all of them had each other phone numbers. Nothing else was said and the guard opened the shutter and they all walked off in various directions. Stuart was whining every step as his whole body hurt because of the kicking and his arse was on fire, but he sauntered up to his flat with a smile on his face, he glanced back at the tube station and thought to him self, “catching the tube will never be the same”. of many meetings on the tube......
The Journey's End
The M25 wasn’t Simon’s favourite road at the best of times, but when it was jammed up, dark and pissing it down it was even more unpleasant. The van he was driving looked like it had come out of arch and was spluttering for the last twenty or so miles. The cassette blared out some old Ska track covering up the whining noises coming from the engine at it chugged up to the M11 intersection. He was dressed in his full skin kit, bleachers, FP, braces, the works and look a right mean hard bastard. This was no lie, he had just spent two years in Wormwood Scrubs for doing over some car driver on the other end of the motorway in Croydon and with all the spare time in prison he managed to beef himself up and acquire several tattoos. But he did look the part and when motorists stared at him in the traffic jam he snarled and they quickly turned away and did their best to move as far away from he van as quickly as possible, but this was the M25 so it was difficult... All of a sudden the traffic came to a halt on the approach to the M11 turn off so Simons was relieved that this was his exit from one traffic jam to another, but at least it was the road home.
The traffic started up again after a few minutes but the van at this stage was getting overheated and steam had started to blow from the radiator, the noise from the engine was getting louder and so was Simon’s temper. He managed to limp the van off the motorway and rolled it down to a halt on a slip road, this hid the van out of the sight of the motorway and for a moment you could of been right in the middle of nowhere yet alone at the side of the motorway. It was fairly dark, the only lights was the glow from the motorway lights that cast weird and scary shapes on the road and on the side of the van. The engine suddenly stopped with a bang and a cloud of oily black thick smoke formed around the bonnet and started to creep through the vents on the dashboard, he opened the side window and looked out the amber glow off the motorway but was distracted by the what appeared to be the flashing amber lights of a rescue truck, he leapt from the can and legged it up the slip road to the hard shoulder and sure enough a rescue truck was there helping some woman who had a flat tyre. There was a lull in the rain but the woman just sat in the car whilst the rescue man changed the wheel. as Simon got closer he realised that the his possible rescuer was wearing black DM’s and combats to which he was admiring as he was sweating over the spare tyre on the car.
He was wearing a black MA and noticed that this bloke was either bald or intentionally shaved his head, but Simon was more worried about getting home so he approached the rescue man and shouted what had happened. He looked up from grappling with the spare tyre and was drawn to the wet though shiny pair of DM’s that almost went to his knee caps. He looked at Simon and stood up, Simon was amazed at the size of the bloke, well over six inches taller, Simon was no weed at six foot four, but he towered over him, this made Simon’s cock move and start to swell, his immediate though was been fucked rotten by this bloke and almost totally forgot about the van. Simon shouted “me van’s fucked...it down that slip road” and pointed to the only dark patch on the motorway. “OK” mate I’ll get this one going and I’ll be down to you in a bit”. Without hesitation Simon waved shouted “OK” and sauntered back to the can glancing over his shoulder and noticing the rescue bloke looking at him every so often. Simon couldn’t help the fact but his cock was rock hard now and he needed to spunk up or over someone.
He got back into the van and started to rub his cock through his jeans, a wet patch of spunk formed through the tight denim. For a moment he must of nodded off as there was a bang on the side window and someone was shining a light into his face, he wound the window and realised it was the rescue man, he was completely oblivious to the yellow lights flashing behind the van. It had stopped raining now and the only light was coming from the torch and the flashing lights of the rescue truck. “silly bitch” he said....as he took his soaking jacket off and hung it in the wing mirror of Simon’s van.
Simon notice his muscles through the wet T-
Simon immediately knew and became aware that the bloke who rescued him was a queer bastard as well and by Simon’s actions to seeing the pictures and magazines must of been a give-
Simon clenched his arse cheeks but he felt the warm sticky end of a cock press tight up against his ripe hole. Simon struggled and tried to position himself away from the probing lump of meat but by this stage the belt had been chucked around his neck and was been pulled tighter and tighter until he was struggling for air. Despite all this his cock remained hard and it was becoming apparent that Simon was starting to like it. Despite been in a prison and been a puff Simon had never been fucked because he thought it was too fucking sissy to be fucked like a woman all though he had seen his best mate get gang raped by three black lads and that did turn him on. Unfortunately Simon just didn’t have the strength in him to fend of the fucking he was about to get but never the less put a brave struggle. He found that his hands had been tied behind his back with his own braces so he completely helpless now and so he assailant took one almighty push with his cock and it was forced right up Simon’s hole. He fucking yelped as he thrust the cock right up to his balls and Simon was shunted forward by the force. His whimpering was hampered by the belt restricting his breathing but he found he couldn’t move or he didn’t want to move. The trusting continued up his arse and the pain although intense was made more pleasurable by the belt around his neck. At this stage he could feel himself going under and the rescuer noticed this so he released the belt a bit giving him chance to gasp some precious mouthfuls of air. His wrists where also feeling a bit cut up as the braces where starting to chafe his skin with all the struggling. With all this the fucking never stopped, he continued to ram his cock up to the hilt and every time he did it Simon grunted. The belt was slack enough to allow him to breath normally but not content with trying to strangle Simon he started to thrust his fingers into his gob making him gag and almost throw up, every so often his hand would totally cover his mouth and nose stopping all airflow but for some reason this made the pain in his arse stop.
The pumping from behind was getting faster now and the belt had been tightened up aronnd Simon’s throat again, he felt himself tense up as with one big thrust he felt warm spunk shoot up his arse hole and Simon lost all his remaining strength and slumped over the bundle of rags, his cock still rock hard. “Not bad for a first time fuck mate”. Simon was just too out of breath to say anything, still panting from the fucking, but still felt his cock up his arse, warm and still throbbing and needless to say Simon’s arse was sore now. After a few short thrusts Simon was conscious that he felt a his arse getting warm inside and felt fluid running out between his arse cheeks, the dirty bastard had only pissed up his arse hole and what couldn’t go up just oozed out of the over stretched hole. “You dirty queer fucker” Simon blurted and the pool of piss was getting bigger and running down the old rags and forming puddles on the floor of the van. By this time his balls where just dying to explode and his hands where free so he started to wank himself slowly, his arse moved up and down in unison with him wanking which pushed in an the out the semi limp cock. He started groaning as he was about to spurt but after a while he found that he was free so he turned over and started to wank furiously. As soon as he started he felt a warm mouth cover his cock sucking hard. In about two minutes he Simon shot his load all into the truckers gob filling it with warm spunk. He grunted and his body was taught with excitement, he felt fingers probing his wet stretched hole but he just went limp and let the trucker carry on stretching his arse hole for a while. They both lied there knackered, Simon with piss seeping out of his hole and the trucker dragging his jeans back on over his semi hard cock. Simon was incapable of movement as he felt totally drained and his balls work aching along with his arse. Amazingly the van’s engine was still working and the cassette was still playing Ska in the background, he lied there, jeans around his ankles and covered in piss and spunk oblivious to the fact that the truck and rescue man had gone to start another mission. He recovered him self and mopped up the piss with the old rags and reversed the van onto the motorway, by which time had cleared and he set off thinking about the fucking he had just taken. His are hole twitched from time to time as it was trying to close it’s self up and to stop the piss leaking all over the seat but he looked at his reflection in the side window and smiled to him self.....the M25 will never be the same!