The Telemachus Story Archive

The Mission
Part 11 - Eastern - Western Relations
By Randy Dragon

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The Mission

Eastern – Western Relations

Alarm sirens wailed through the underground command bunker of the Okinawa naval base. Ordinance officers rushed frantically through the brightly lit corridors.

"Report!" the deep voice of Fleet Admiral Hugh Macauley echoed through the command auditorium.

“Sir, we lost the VHF transponder signal of the Vincent Mancroft”, an adjutant reported.

“What? Impossible! A 1.000 ft. nuclear aircraft carrier does not just disappear!,” the Fleet Admiral barked.

“Uhm, Sir, yes Sir …,” the adjutant stammered,” we still have her on satellite, but …”

“What but?” Do you call this a proper report? I am surrounded by incompetence! Put it in screen you moron!” Macauley’s temper changed from his usual grumpy to angry.

The command center's large video screen lit up, showing the satellite image of the lost aircraft carrier.

“What the fuck am I seeing here?” the Admiral roared.

The huge warship lay in the shallow water on the shore like a beached whale. An armada of fishing boats surrounded the ship and brought the obviously unconscious crewmen ashore.

There the men were stripped. Heaps of uniforms and boots were already piling up. Soldiers in Red Guard uniforms loaded the limp bodies onto waiting donkey carts, which set off for the mountains in a seemingly endless column.

A partial screen showed a Red Guard group carrying computers and files out of the carrier and loading them into Coast Guard vessels. The camera zoomed in on a Korean soldier grinning as he flipped through a stack of porn magazines, obviously from the crew's cabins.

"Boarded and plundered!" the admiral gasped, stunned.

"Where's the fuckin’ support fleet?"

“Uhm, still here at base, Sir,” the adjutant replied cautiously taking a step back. “Commodore Mulroney decided to sail without them.”

"I'm going to keelhaul this brainless urchin." The Admiral went ballistic.

“Sir, what are your orders, Sir? Shall we send the fleet?” the adjutant asked.

“Brute force will not get us anywhere. They’ve got us by the balls and they know it. Stay put Lieutenant!” the Admiral left his chair and left for his private quarters. There he opened his safe and fetched a satellite phone.

Well, that was fast. Field Marshal Park Donghae in the North Korean capital Pyongyang smiled knowingly when his phone rang. Park was a member of the Central Military Commission of the Workers' Party of Korea. The CMC was coordinating the Party’s organization with the army.

“Hello Hugh, my friend, how are you? I didn’t hear from you since a while.” Park said.

Macauley and Park had met at a military convention, and without being openly friends, the two officers respected each other and secretly maintained an unofficial connection.

“Hello Donghae, never felt better. Sorry for being absent, but you know paperwork …” the Admiral replied.

“Oh yes, I understand exactly how you feel.” Park chuckled. “All this workload and things get easily amiss, isn’t it?”

"Uhm yes, absolutely and I wonder whether you might help me out a bit?" Hugh asked cautiously.

"Hm, Sun Tzu says: In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity." Park replied.

"Sun Tzu is wise, indeed." Macauley was wondering, how to get to the subject.

"A little bird twittered that you lost something?" Park asked innocently.

Fuck! The bastard knows already! The Admiral groaned inwardly.

“Very funny, thank you for rubbing it in! That same bird told me as well that you found something?” Macauley said.

“Finders keeps, losers weepers, or how does the saying go?” Park chuckled.

“Sun Tzu teaches as well: Build your opponent a golden bridge to retreat across.” Macauley grunted.

“Forgive me, my friend, I couldn’t resist.” Park laughed.

“Somehow, I doubt that you regret it too much.” The Admiral snorted.

“I know, I cannot keep it. But, if the Supreme Leader learns about this; it will be out of my hands …” Park was now serious.

“Nobody can learn about this! If the press finds out, my President will have just one option and that one would be most unpleasant. We have to act fast!” Macauley urged.

“Oh yes, the press. We already had this most unfortunate incident with your Marine, further humiliation would not serve any purpose …” Park sighed.

“So …?” Macauley asked.

“Well! I cannot promise you anything, because I need further intelligence about the situation at Suyang-Dong. But my man is already there. If I can, I will build you your golden bridge.” Park replied.

“Thank you, my friend! I owe you big.” Macauley thanked.

“Enemies can become friends, Sun Tzu says …” Park ended the call. He picked up another phone. “Hello Eng-Lok, what is going on?”

* * *

From the gate tower of the temple, Colonel Kim, Master Huang alias Choi Lee Kwan, and Dr. Takashima watched the column of donkey carts rolling the unconscious crew of the American aircraft carrier down the winding road to the temple.

“That went better then we hoped,” Huang said.

“The Americans did not know what hit them,” Kim replied. “Thanks to your information we were always a step ahead.”

“These Westerners think they are superior to Asians. They underestimate our centuries-old wisdom. It is this pride that leads to their downfall.” Huang said.

“I still can’t believe, we defeated their warship without a fight,” Takashima was impressed.

“Sun Tzu teaches: The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.” Huang mused.

“So what is going to happen with the ship and all this equipment, guns, uniforms and stuff?” Takashima asked.

“First I thought to let the carrier disappear in our steel smelters, but I changed my mind. I am going to send it as a gift to our Supreme Leader. He will be exalted to learn about our victory over the Americans. All their latest military technology is now available to us. Guns, uniforms will be given to the Red Guards.” Kim replied.

“I hear, the farmers already got their hands on the jock-straps, they did not know that kind of stuff, yet.” Takashima chortled.

“And they are most pleased to get the Americans to work in their fields. They are strong and will perform well, after their reconditioning.” Huang said. “Are we ready for that?”

“Yes, Master Huang, the helmets have just arrived. My associates in Japan have programmed the visors with the latest virtual reality software. First, we will make their minds receptive by forcing a climax with the dragon claw. At the height of their orgasm, the Americans will be regressed back to their childhood through Abbot Gao-Ban's mental priming. They will forget their military training and become docile and tamed, so that the farmers can have them as laborers. And as an added bonus the farmers will not have to worry about their wives and daughters. Because although they are virile young men in their prime, their minds will be trapped like gelded in boyish personalities. Though there balls will be swollen, they will not know how to use their dicks. Twice a week we will milk their seed from their blue balls here in the temple and process the sperm for our biogenetic weapon.” Takashima explained.

“They will hate to be used like that,” Kim grinned.

"Well, of course, as soon as they shoot their load during milking, they'll snap out of their trance for a moment and realize what's being done to them, but under the influence of the helmets, any resistance is quickly quelled." Takashima chuckled.

“They will relive their downfall again and again, until their nuts will shrivel for good.” Huang gloated.

“And then our Supreme Leader will achieve the ultimate victory. As our bio-weapon will affect only Caucasians, the glorious Red Guards will overrun their incapacitated armies and we will conquer their homelands …” Kim's eyes shone fanatically.

* * *

The air was lingering hot and moist over the jungle valley below the temple. Although the dense foliage of the trees was shielding the men from the brutal heat of the sun, the climate had got them good. The Koreans and the Americans who had joined to an unlikely alliance had dozed off into an uneasy slumber. Only Taylor lay awake, his head resting on Mike’s thigh. The distinctive male smell coming from the Marine’s lap could have turned him on, but he had other things in mind by now that he had learned the good news.

He wanted to cry out in sheer relief. Mike had told him that Kyle was alive. That his brother was held captive didn’t matter. They would find a way to rescue him and their friends. Now that they had found unexpected allies in this hostile territory, they might be able to turn the tables against their shrewd enemy. Taylor looked across the clearing where Craig was sleeping amidst the Red Guards. The Seal was clad again in his black neoprene suit although he had stripped the top to his waist. The muscular soldier was snoring softly.

No wonder ,‘ Taylor thought, grinning inwardly,’ they gave you quite a workout, macho-man .’

The youngest of the Red Guard, whose name was Khoo, rose. He nudged the big Seal, who was instantly alert. But there was no danger yet. Craig looked into Khoo’s smiling face and grinned sheepishly. Taylor couldn’t believe it. There was obviously a kind of bond between the faggot-hating callous straight macho-fucker and the lean Korean. Without making any noise the Korean soldier rose to his feet and walked to the other end of the clearing. He didn’t even look back, when he disappeared in the bushes. Craig rose as well and followed the lanky Red Guard.

“Horny bastards,” Taylor grinned.

Khoo smiled at the big American, who appeared from the bushes. Craig’s face was unshaven. Mud soiled both his forehead and his cheeks; traces from the morning romp when he had been pushed face-down while being fucked doggie-style. Khoo had lowered his camo pants and was slowly striking his cock. The big Seal was towering over him, but not with a menace. Musky man’s smell was emanating from Craig’s naked torso, which was covered by a thin layer of sweat. The hunk’s gaze was mesmerized by the Red Guard’s cock. The bulge swelling in his crotch, where his huge man-meat was struggling against the neoprene confinement, told what was in his mind right now.

“Ready to go again, Baby?” Craig licked his lips. He had come a long way from rejecting sexual acts with other men to sucking dick and getting fucked. He had come a long way from rejecting sexual acts with other men to sucking cock and getting fucked. He was still a newcomer to gay sex, but just as he never passed up a good number with a chick, he eagerly explored every opportunity to get laid.

Khoo stopped his strokes and reached up to Craig’s naked shoulders.

“I dunno how ‘ya are doing it, but I have to have your dick,” Craig muttered. Khoo grinned. He didn’t have to pull a lot. Craig was on his knees in an instant and his lips closed eagerly over the Asian dick. An impressive hump formed in the Seal’s neoprene covered lap.

“Mmmphh…ngggg,” Craig groaned while he pushed the shorty down to free his aching cock. The throbbing boner sprang out of the neoprene prison as if it had a life of its own.

“Ummmmm…,” Craig closed his eyes, simultaneously stroking himself and sucking Khoo’s dick. Lust swept through his mind and he forgot about the world around them.

The Korean liked the big Westerner. It was horny to fuck with an archenemy. Even more so when the big guy submitted so willingly.

After the blowjob had made him sufficiently hard, he bent down and kissed the American. Then he hugged him from behind and guided his stiff cock between the muscular ass cheeks.

Craig moaned expectantly, grabbed the cock and pressed the head against his hole. Khoo held him in an iron embrace rocking his slender hips and impaling the seal with a fluid spinning thrust.

“Oh shit!” Craig bellowed. After a brief stabbing pain, he instinctively matched the sinewy Asian's rhythm. Khoo nibbled on his ear and let the fingertips play over his nipples.

"Ahhhrgh," Craig moaned.

As his hips slapped against his ass cheeks, Khoo tried different angles and suddenly the big Westerner howled.

"Fuck! Oh fuck, yeah, just like that. Don't you fucking stop! Harder, fuck me harder!"

Khoo's body was glistening with sweat. When he felt the ring muscle close around his cock he knew the American was ready. Now he, too, was no longer holding back. Both men grunted and gasped and then it was time. Their bodies merged into one harmonious unit and after a brief joint spasm they climaxed simultaneously.

“Fuuuck!” Craig howled, as his cum was splashing into the jungle mud. Khoo was panting over him. The Seal was on his knees and struggled to balance his rocking body on one hand while stroking his erupting cock with the other.

“Uuurghh!” Khoo groaned when his cum filled Craig’s ass. The Red Guard was soaked in sweat. He collapsed on top of the grunting Seal, who was still milking drops of his male juice from his sensitive prick. Despite his climax Craig was excited. The young Asian provided him a kind of addictive satisfaction that he was unable to escape from. The more sex he had with him the more he wanted and worse, he needed it.

With an encouraging petting on his shoulder Khoo signaled that this fuck session was over. He pulled his pants up and fetched his uniform jacket.

“Well, that was … nice,” with a look of disappointment Craig tried to wipe his fingers clean. He pulled the shorty up and crammed his semi-erect, moist dick inside.

Craig pulled Khoo into a final embrace and the two men were joined again in a hot kiss. Then they hugged each other once more and walked back to the main group.

“It was about time, you horny bastard,” Taylor chided jokingly.

“Sorry, man,” Craig returned a sheepish grin, scratching his crotch.

“It’s time to march up to the temple,” Mike said,” when we arrive there, it will be dark and we can get inside without being discovered. Eng-Lok will help.”

The group grabbed their equipment and left. Taylor registered again surprised that Craig kept himself among the Red Guards who seemed to accept him readily among themselves.

They walked along a steep winding jungle path until the trees receded and some pastures and fields signaled that the village of Suyang-Dong was near.

* * *

High above the humid hotness of the jungle, a scenario no less of heat was unfolding in the temple. A few oil lamps were the only light in the Abbott’s chambers, but more light was not needed.

Gao-Ban was sitting cross-legged on his bed, smiling at the former Seal leader.

Cliff’s appearance had remarkably changed since the old Abbott had started his education. The rugged Seal was clean shaven from head to toe. Gone was the buzz crew cut and so were the reddish curly pubes. His colorful tattooed skin was oiled with a blend of musk and sandalwood oil. Daily hot baths had become a routine and Gao-Ban was scrutinizing the burly hunk not to miss it.

At the moment, the American was lying flat on his back. He was sweating profusely. Muscles rippled all over his magnificent body. His eyes were closed and his masculine face distorted.

“Oh shit, I can’t do it …uhhhh!” he moaned hoarsely.

“Focus and concentrate, master your instincts,” Gao-Ban said in his soft voice. He was holding the young man’s dick delicately with two finger tips by the bloated mushroom head.

“Fuck!” Cliff’s hips started to buck.

“Don’t!” the Asian pushed him down on the bed.

“Focus on your pearls,” Gao-Ban repeated, ”feel your juice churning…”

“Uughh…,” Cliff panted. The urge to buck up and down and to slide his rod in the palms of the old Asian was almost overwhelming, but he was eager to learn.

Since Gao-Ban was plowing his ass, things had changed between them. First Cliff had felt nothing but hate and he suffered dearly from the humiliation that the older man could dominate him with amazing ease. But then slowly he found a thorough satisfaction during the love sessions with his master – how he called him now – as he had never experienced before with any of his uncounted women. The nights with Gao-Ban left him spent and exhausted, but at the same time he couldn’t wait for the stimulations to continue. The old monk had shown him reactions of his body that were completely new to him. He triggered sensations he had never encountered during his vast sexual experiences. Cliff was hopelessly hooked.

Gao-Ban had developed a strong liking to his young disciple as well and shared his knowledge about the pleasure zones of the male body willingly.

Producing a hands-free cumshot had become Cliff’s obsession.  His wrists and ankles had been tied to the bedposts. Now he was struggling and wriggling in his bonds. Gao-Ban had guided him mentally close to climax, but now he found himself unable to walk the final step that would trigger his orgasm.

“Oh please let me cum,” Cliff groaned in helpless frustration,” please, Master, I can’t stand it any longer. Oh fuck, oh shit…uhhh!”

In another room Dr. Takashima arched his naked body shuddering from the waves of arousal that were pulsing throughout his lean frame.

“Ohhhh, yesss,” The Japanese moaned in delight.

His hands pushed the big head with the reddish-brown crew-cut hair firmly down on his erection. The huge man lying between his spread thighs was strong muscled, weighing about 200 lbs. Tattoos were circling his biceps. His half-erect manhood lay between his thighs while he was noisily sucking the Japanese dick. Master Sergeant Hank O’Dowerty was entirely consumed by his eagerness to please the smaller Asian. He knew he would be spanked, if he did not perform well. He had forgotten about the Marine Corps and his mission. He was here for the only purpose to please his master.

“Yes, Hank, you are doing well, ohhh yes that feels nice,” Takashima petted the “former” Marine’s head.

“…and you, come here and suck my toes, boy, will you?” the Japanese looked at the naked muscle-packed giant who had waited obediently for his call. Brock Rowley hunched his 6.4 ft. hairy body and closed his lips around Takashima’s left foot big toe. His wavy hair fell into his forehead. Firm muscles were playing under the tattooed skin of the ex-Marine, who lowered himself down on the mattress close to Hank.

Takashima remembered when both of them arrived at the temple, so proud and so confident and yet so stupid. Too late they realized that they had met their match. Aaah, that priceless look of shocked surprise appearing on their faces when they felt the sting of the Dragon Claw and the realization that they were conquered not by fierce fighting rather than subtle erotic stimulation.

Later when they snapped back to reality during the humiliating milking sessions, painfully aware of what was done to them, he loved to watch the grim look of defiance turning into helpless agony of lust.

The giant construction worker and ex-Marine had been a feisty one and offered an amazing resistance.

Even 6 Red Guards hardly managed to subdue him and to strap him onto the milking bike like the other captives. The sheath of the devilish machine had engulfed the hunk’s 12 incher and held him firmly in place.

The machine had started to buck in a rhythmic rocking motion and Takashima was eagerly waiting to see man’s semen seeping through the transparent hose from the sheath encumbering the impressive manhood into the antiseptic glass container. However, instead of succumbing into a forced climax the big hunk had sneered and cursed.

“I know you perverts are somehow fucking with our minds, while we’re unloading. Fuck you! That ain’t gonna happen here!” Brock knew that people considered him to be a dumb oaf, but he was a keen observer. He didn’t understand why their captors were performing sexual depraving acts on their victims, but he understood that he had to resist and should not cum. Well, those fuckers were up to a big surprise. He was a confident man. If he needed it urgently he could shoot his load within minutes. But unlike a quick fuck he preferred humping the chick or the guy he was grinding into the mattress for hours. The sheath engulfing his dick had triggered a hard-on, but he had plenty of stamina and self-control to stop himself from cumming.

“You never make me cum! Fuck you all!” he challenged.

Takashima was impressed. That giant Westerner was worthy to be in his collection and would surely be most entertaining in bed. He knew he had to break the man’s strong will.

May be some booze will do the trick?

Takashima retrieved a bottle of bourbon from his office and offered it to the American.

"You must be thirsty. Here, have a sip, Marine!" In Japan, he had seen the U.S. soldiers stationed there drinking excessively at raucous parties in bars and clubs. He detested his compatriots who attended these events and even joined the Americans in karaoke contests. To him, Americans were just 'gaijins' foreign devils and occupants.

“Put that fuckin’ booze up your ass! You are dead meat!” Brock spat at the bottle and made his point by releasing a solid fart.

Takashima could barely hold back. He thought about his sword and how he would slice this gaijin to pieces. Instead he went back to the console and reprogrammed the machine from a bucking motion to a slow and gentle rocking mode. Ignoring the American's insults and threats, Takashima took a generous amount of Vaseline from a jar in his gloved hand, walked behind Brock and lubricated the sealed hole. The slippery rosebud offered no resistance as the neck of the bottle was shoved into the roaring guy's ass.

"I've had enough of you, gaijin! You're going to cum for me now!" Takashima met the cursing Marine with equal fury.

"First, we're gonna shut this filthy mouth!" he gagged Brock with a roll of bandages. Then he pulled two small glass bottles from his pocket and unscrewed them.

“Motherf … ummph!”

"Let's see you poppered up!" He shoved one bottle up each of Brock's nostrils.

Brock held his breath. His face turned crimson. Finally, his body reared up and he had to catch his breath.

Fuck! That shit is getting to me … must stay focused. Brock’s mind was reeling.

Vapors flooded his body.

Shit! Shit! Shiiiit … His eyes bulged and rolled back in his head.

“Good boy!” Takashima let the Marine breathe the nefarious vapors until he big body slumped.

Takashima removed the gag and pinched the quickly hardening nipples between his thumbs and index fingers.

Unconsciously, his hips began to sway and adjust to the rhythm of the machine.

Oh Fuck, He turns me on!

A muffled growl came from deep in his chest and a rosy blush appeared on his sweaty skin. Dazed by the poppers, the slowly rocking motion and the gentle stimulation lulled the hairy muscle-man into a sound state of arousal. Unconsciously, his hips began to sway and adjust to the rhythm of the machine. Back in his mind he realized what was done to him and he was determined not to cum.

Oh shit! I need to … I can’t hold back

Brock was now breathing heavily. The nerdy Asian had him. He was mellowed by horniness. The almost delicate, steady movements of the machine built up pressure agonizingly slowly. His cock was now firmly in the grip of the sheath. Following a primal instinct, his hips moved faster. Already he felt the familiar tingle in the nuts. But then the machine slowed even more, holding him at the edge of relief. Finally he had no stamina left to resist the constant stimulations.

“Damn you, fucker! End this! Let me cum!” Brock shouted.

“Not yet, gaijin. I have all time in the world.” Takashima gloated and continued to work the Marine’s man tits.

The fucker wants me to beg for it … oh shit I … I

“Okay fuck you, you win. Please, let me cummmm!” Brock’s entire body was now flushed crimson read.

“As you wish!” Takashima gave the nipples a brutal twist.

“Fuuuuuck!” Brock lost it. His nipples were hard-wired to his dick.

“Yeah! That’s it!” Takashima grinned at the horrified look that had formed on the crimson, sweaty, contorted face in front of him. The sheath constricted, vibrated and the impressive nuts were unloaded. It felt as if Brock’s brain was sucked through his cock into the machine.

Fuck, I am pumped dry

A stream of gooey white man-milk traveled through the transparent hose to the glass container.

“Yeah! That’s it!” Takashima looked at the obscenely raised butt and the sweaty hairy cheeks that opened and closed around the bottleneck in rhythm with the forced cumshots. Bubbles were indicating that the liquid was sucked inside the ass.

“Fuuuuuck!” Brock hollered when he felt the alcohol absorbed in a burning sensation by his ass walls. Horrified, he realized that the machine did not stop. His highly sensitive cock tip was mercilessly massaged and vibrated in the sheath.

Before he could really catch his breath, Takashima twisted his nipples again.

“Uuuurgh!!!” he climaxed again. From then on there was no stopping him. He was in fuck mode and with every cumshot the whiskey bottle emptied a little more into his ass. His stamina and body melted away. His vision blurred and his voice slurred as the alcohol washed away his remaining sanity.

Finally, small bubbles appeared in the viscous stream of semen in the hose until it dried up completely.

The Japanese had just laughed into Brock’s perplexed expression when he learned that even his bull-sized balls could be depleted and finally he begged the little Asian to stop, but the Japanese was only starting. He accelerated the milking rhythm and forced Brock to hug the machine to stay on top.

Takashima grabbed Brock’s wavy mane with one hand and pulled his head back into his neck. With a smooth thrust he inserted his narrow gloved hand, slippery from a generous taking of Vaseline and fisted Brock until his voice turned into a high pitch when the Japanese forced him into a dry climax. He had the big man singing in orgiastic agony until he collapsed on the relentless rocking machine. His eyes were glassy and his manhood reduced to less than 2 inches, wobbling flaccid and ridiculously on top of a shrunken set of balls. Without resistance, he had the helmet put on and his mind was reprogrammed.

Oh, the other one had been fun as well. Not an ex-Marine, no, that was a real one, snatched right from the battlefield. Takashima had yelled in triumph when he had mounted the hunky Master Sergeant for the first time, of course securely tied to the bed as the Marine would return to reality when he reached a climax; and climax Hank did – several times. When his first load soaked the mattress underneath, he came around and realized that this time was a different milking. The sneering Japanese was riding him with rhythmic thrusts.

“You like that, huh?” Takashima gasped.

“No!” Hank’s biceps bulged as he struggled against the bonds tying him to the bed posts,” no fuckin’ gook is breeding me!”

Takashima fucked him unimpressed until the Marine’s furious roars turned to hoarse barks, while the little Japanese researcher systematically fucked him into a humiliating submission. Hank was finally so exhausted that he didn’t even protest when Takashima kissed him first gently on the red hot cheek and then roughly conquering the open mouth, gasping for breath.

Like the Abbott had reserved the brawny Seal for his personal pleasure, Takashima had kept the two brawny stallions for his very own pleasure. He had tamed them well by now and he liked the respect they paid him finally, despite the remaining defiance during the regular milking sessions.

“Oh yes boys,” Takashima groaned gleefully,” that’s what Daddy needs.” He indulged in the total domination of the two powerful Americans who had succumbed to the brainwashing by the Abbott. Takashima detested the little Korean monk as he felt that the Japanese were the superior Asian race. Now that they had recorded Gao-Ban’s enchantment into the helmets they didn’t need the old clown any longer.

“Soon, soon …,” Takashima moaned,” ahhhhh, good boys, yessss!”

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