O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

The Deep Blue (mm anal nc rape)

by Wolfpek

It is not silent in the depths. The hollow crackling sound of the creatures which feed on the coral, the movement of water, and of course the steady rhythm of one's own focused breath echoing into one's regulator. It is not silent, but it is serene and beautiful.

Navy Seal Lieutenant Jason Flint wished he had time to appreciate the rainbow of coral that surrounded him as he skimmed passed a billowing lionfish floating near a giant clam, but this was not a vacation in the Seychelles--he was on a mission.

Intelligence had information that arch terroist "Qube" had built an undersea laborotory near this site and was planning to detobate explosives along the tectonic plates. His assignment was to locate signs of this structure and report back to the submarine.

More air-brushed than clothing, the spandex of Flint's suit recorded every ripple and contour of the play of muscles, which worked to push him smoothly through the water. Flint had not developed his body to lethal perfection out of vanity, rather, the square-jawed 27-year-old warrior devoted every hour of his life to toning body and mind to an absolute killing machine and protector of his nation. He had suceeded.

For the sake of aerodynamic effciency, he wore only a jockstrap under his second skin of spandex, leaving each sculpted contour highlighted without interruption, and he moved, graceful, slick and seemingly uncovered as the acid green eel which darted under a brain coral in the corner of his eye. Something else caught his eye, a sharp bright something which didn't belong. Sharklike, he changed direction and darted toward it moving smoothly through bits of loose floating sea vegetation. Translucent and very visible, this cloud of vegetaion seemed to grow thicker, collecting onto his body suit and growing so dense it inhibited his movements. He countered to move back around and try another approach but finds he was unable to extract himself. His steely blue eyes widened as this mysterious sea grass grew weblike. The more he struggled against it, the more entrapped he became. A quick check at his pressure gauge revealed a concerning depletion of oxygen.

A fighting machine like Flint did not panic, but he did move slowly to test the strength of this new problem. His massive shoulders and thin hips undulated slowly as he searched for potential weaknesses in his mossy opponent .

So fully absorbed was Flint with this unique equation, he did not sense a new presence swimming near him, not until he felt a sharp pinprick pinch into his neck. He turned quickly to react but saw only scales, scales and then blackness.

Scales which covered long thin arms which wrapped around the limp form of the unconcious navy seal, carrying away the hunky prey, scaly webbed fingers which opened a pressure lock hidden ingeniously within the coral. A scaly shoulder over which is thrown the perfect round ass outlined by sleek wet spandex, and carried up a steel ladder, wading with it's prize into a fetid chamber filled ankle deep with water. A scaly figure which dropped the dead weight of the sleeping stud face down into the pooled water covering the limestone floor. The dim light of the chamber reflecting off of the nylon covered muclses of the broad back and ripe ass.

A sharp well-placed kick knocked the slumbering hunk face up. Liver-spotted human hands tore away the mask and hood whic revealed the all-American buzz cut beauty. These same hands then cupped the granite jaw.

"Ahhh, the great Lieutenat Flint. I had hoped you'd join us."

The Rapture of the Deep

The ache in his arms invaded his slumbering conciousness in the same way an alarm clock invaded a dream. Flint's eyes were open before his brain was able to interpret the bizarre images they were receiving.

Dim and dappled a merucial light filtered in through the thick glass, upon the dripping walls of his cavern prison. A damp fetid stench filled his nostrils, smelling for all the world like cum. His eyes focused first on Qube slouching languidly on some sort of granite throne with glowing control panels on it's monumental arms. His dainty, slippered feet resting on an odd steel ottoman with chains at four corners.The dim light shimmered of of his shaved head. His vaginal goatee twisted into a fey smirk. Other images came into view, most importantly his oxygen tank, regulator, mask and weight belt, implements of freedom teaslingly peeked from behind the stone age barcalounger.

"My, what a fine catch I have pulled from the ocean today." He rose languidly wafting towards his suspended prize, his loose white lounging suit flowing behind him. Sculpted limbs pulled into an mouthwatering X by the same sticky ooze which had brought him here.

"What a fine muscled, virile catch in my little net."

A long delicate fingertips came to tenative rest on the massive chest, like a butterfly ready to flit away.

"The question is what was such a prime fish doing swimming so close to my... hook?"

The butterfly hand flew up to wipe the hawking ball of spit that landed squarely in its owner's eye and just as swiftly slapped the square jaw of his defiant prisoner.

"And what to do with such a prime catch?"

Less gently, both hands now explored the contours of the torso beneath the slick wetsuit.

"Tell me Flint, what do you seek here? I expect you are not alone."

He received only a recitation of name rank and serial number. The oblivious hands continued to explore down the tapering stomach to cup the impressive cock protected only by two layers of nylon and cotton, and interrupted the litany.

"Get your hands off me you fucking faggot!!!"

The grip of the thin hand became surprisingly strong around the outline of his cock.

"An extremely accurate assesment of the obvious Lt. Flint. I am indeed a faggot, and I plan to be fucking very soon"

Wide awake now, Flint began to curse and struggle frantically against his organic bonds. "I'll kill you first."

Qube smiled.

"The living material which currently holds your delicious wrists and ankles so securely in my power is actually a rare sort of algae. I have been crossbreeding it with the jellyfish in this area. Like you, it is extremely strong, yet pliant, and strikingly beautiful. So strong, not even your Herculean "guns" can break them. Unlike you, I am able to control it telepathically, comme ca"

Flint's meaty arms were yanked painfully up and down along the steel apparatus like a hunky puppet. He yelped in response. The oozing bonds yanked him back into the x shape and stopped.

"Ahh how your voice must sound in agony. Manly, gruff and yet vulnerable, and boyishly tender. How you must sound during sex... or torture. Exquiste."

Steel blue eyes stared back, silently contemptuous.

"It is time for you to meet more of the locals." Qube clapped his hands.

Flint's face fell into a mask of disbelief as five bizarre figures entered the room as if they had stepped off of the screen of a very bad 1950s horror film. They were humanoid in that they stood upright and had two arms and two legs, and each carried an impressive spear. Standing at about five feet tall, they were covered in slime-covered grey scales. Their long sinewy limbs ended in wide, webbed hands and feet. Unlike fish, their round, yellow eyes were set forward, predatory and not to the sides of their rather elegant elongated heads Obviously amphibian, gills sprouted from below each pointed ear in rows to their shoulders. A long spiked fin ran from the top of the skull forming a reptilian tale behind the knee. The fin was repeated along the underside of their terrifyingly large cocks, which were rigidly erect and oozing squid black cum.

"Meet my frogmen. They brought you to me. It took me a very long time to gain their allegience, but it seems we have something in common, an appreciation for the idealized male form. Of course, they do not share my restraint. Their all-consuming lust has resulted in the actual consumption of several unfortunate young divers. You understand the laws of the ocean: hunt and consume. I have taught them to slow down and enjoy all of the charms of their prey for a long time before their hungry lusts destroy what I consider to be works of art. In appreciation for improving the quality of their lives, they now serve me." Qube was pulling on black gloves.

"They like you. Can you see how they are 'pointing' toward you? My presence and continued well-being are all that stands between you and their primal needs. Shall I give them a show?"

Qube slowly unzipped the front of the stunned stud's wetsuit. His breathing became shallow as he parted the clinging nylon skin to reveal the hard golden flesh it could no longer protect. Flint's hairless armoured pecs capped by small pink nipples framed by impossibly broad shoulders were slowly revealed.

Shuddering, Qube rested his head lovingly on the naked rock of his victim's chest, just the way Lisa used to do gazing into the bonfire on the beach back home in faraway Nag's Head. He raised one gloved hand.

"Do you like these gloves my love? They are sharkskin, actual sharkskin. Very fancy. They can also administer an electric shock."

The hand descended upon the opposite chest. The rough substance immediately cut tiny little paper cuts into the flawless bare skin. Flint winced. Qube clenched around the rounded muscle and began to rub in pressing circles over the tender nipple, while his tounge gently flicked the other hardening nub.

With intermittent currents of electricity rolling through his body, Flint unsuccessfully tried not to moan. He tried to murmer his name, rank and serial number between grunts of pain. The hand moved further over the exposed ribs, towards the flat quivering stomach, and tiny red welts formed in its wake. Qube spoke into the nipple.

"What I have admired about your body for so long is that there is nothing uneccesary about it. No excess fat, spare. Massive muscles over rippling adbominals. I can count every rib..." Light fingers played along the sensitive ribs, and Flint shivered in reaction. "You have spent your life training it into the perfect fighting machine. Now I shall continue your training, into my perfect pleasure machine. Oh, the things I will do to you."

Flint, to maintain sanity simply repeated name, rank, serial number. The voltage increased in intensity his body jumped within its gooey shackles.

"Tell me about your sub. It is my understanding that your fellow crewmen are as fine specimens as yourself. I have dispatched some of my frogmen to greet them. If you cooperate, I will spare them."

Flint knew this was a lie.

"How much is known of my plan and whereabouts?" The zipper descended further, and Qube gasped. Strange howling sounds came from the frogmen whose fins flapped up and down excitedly

"Only a jockstrap? Breathtaking. Did you dress to please me? Thank you, my love."

It was too big for the strap to fully contain. Flint's dick under the cotton was fat, unusually long, and to his shame, semi-erect. The head barely peeped from its cloth cage, the curve of fat balls overflowed from the sides, blonde fur dusted the surrounding area.

The remainder of the wet suit was quickly zipped away.. The heroic form of the navy seal now fully exposed to the tongue and cutting gloves of his captor heading inexorably toward the bulging jock. The gloves dived first, in front and behind, one burrowing into the golden forest of Flint's pubic hait, the other clawed at the hard muscle of his high round right glute and left the tongue to count the abdominals and taste the first line of hair beginning at the navel. Qube stepped back to admire his catch and removed one glove.

"I have another treat for you."

He stepped back to the nearest frogman and collected a droplet of sperm dripping from its bobbing cock. He held it up for Flint to see and the touched it lightly to his ravaged nipple.

Flint threw his head back and screamed, and a burning itch shot into the nub. Qube had longed for this sound.

"Amazing stuff, isn't it? Personally, I find it delicious."

Flint sigged as it was licked away. The gloved hand pulled the jock down, just enough to reveal the vulnerable slit.

"NO!"

"Tell me how many are on the sub."

"Lt. Jason Flint. US Navy.... Ahhhhhhrrrrggghhh! ahh unnhh!"

The head dropped back swooning from the burn into his manhood.

"Poor boy, your suffering has only begun."

Qube knelt reverently before his suspended object of worship, grasped the hard round buttocks in both hands and pulled the rising cock toward him to kiss away the stinging black ooze. His saliva saturated the fabric of the cup as he licked and then took the still covered cock into his mouth. A brave heatseeking finger worked its way to the undefended crack between the twin dimpled globes, and Qube found himself unable to breathe.

Flint's steel thighs were wrapped viselike around his neck and were cutting off his air.

"I can snap your little neck like a twig faggot! Tell your little fishies to stand down, and let me free... NOW!!!"

With a wave of his hand, the frogman dropped their weapons and stepped backwards. Catlike reflexes allowed Flint to take control as soon as the seagrass shackles released him. With swift economic movements, Flint had snatched the knife from his wetsuit and placed the edge up to Qube's neck in a matter of seconds.

"Now Miss Piggy, we're gonna walk real slow over to my tank, and your little Kermits aren't gonna make any sudden moves" He angled his would-be rapist across the room, and as he reached for his tank, he was ready when the frogmen jumped. Only two remained alive as he slipped on his tank, weightbelt, and mask. He would have to leave the wetsuit, and fins. He backed out over the bloody amphibain bodies.

"Qube, you're real lucky my goverment wants you alive. Faggots. It's been real, but I'll just be saying goodbye for now. We'll be back to pick you up soon." And Flint was gone.

Those creepy little frog things were still out there, he had to be fast. Damn, one strap of his tank had been severed in the struggle, he would have to carry it. He checked his gauge. It wasn't as bad as he thought, he had plenty to get back to the sub. It was strange to be this deep in just a tank and jockstrap, but goddamn it was good to be free.

The luminesent coral glowed in the dappled light; the colours were almost psychedelic. It really was beautiful down here. He saw a ray float by, angelic. Funny... he was moving, but the scenery had not changed, or was he moving? He looked around and his vision seemed to track behind the movements of his head. His breath into his regualtor was ringing in his ear, faint buzzing music. His mind reeled toward the ship. He had to save his men, but it felt so good here. The healing sea salt stung his wounds. Why was he still here?

The tank.

It was more full than he remembered. Qube had refilled it, but with what?! Some sort of euphoric gas. Ticklish buzzing waves rolled through his center. Lights blinked in the corner of his eyes. He kicked forward with all of his strength. No, no... he was kicking he was floating descending gently toward the sea floor. Was this what they called the Rapture of the Deep? Qube had won, but not really. At least he was spared the fate worse than death that the sick faggot had planned for him. He would die breathing Qube's drugged air.

He felt his body come to rest gently along the seabed, his hips met rock, raising his naked ass slightly. Wouldn't Qube have liked that?. The tank fell next to him. His body was stretched long with his arms above his head. His thick rounded delts stretched to impressivly wide shoulders tapering in a complicated array of muscles to a surprisingly thin waist and forming the perfect V-shaped back, flared out again into the pert full melon shaped ass, and long, slightly over-muscled legs, all stretched out in the sand and rocks of Davey Jone's locker.

Through heavy lids, he saw the little nutbranks and fish which fed upon the nearby coral. He was part of the sea life now. The little creatures surrounded him and nibbled at his naked flesh. Nibbling into his underarms and along the rib cage, some small enough to wiggle under nibbling at his tits, nibbling at his cock sticking out from the cup, rock hard, thanks to their attention and Qube's gas, exposed between his legs pointing to his feet. Nibbling at his balls, along the instep of his feet. Nibbling at the hairs which surrounded the hole buried between the mounds of his dimpled ass. He moaned piteously into his mouthpiece.

He hadn't gotten far, he could see now that he lay just below Qube's window. He could see Qube watching drink in hand and giving him a dainty wave. He understood the plan. Mind reeling in terror, he could only lie still, as he felt the presence behind him. Webbed hands tore away his jockstrap, gasping his lats for leverage, and the fate he thought he had avoided, that immense finned cock against his virgin hole. The huge scaly rod poking into the crack seperating flawless creamy mounds, of the helpless navy seal The little fish nibbled away. With one brutal thrust, the monster tore past the rings of his tight sphincter.

Even the euphoric drug could not ease the pain of that invasion. Flint screamed, tensed and fell limp as the frogman pistoned into him, slamming his hips into the rock pedestal. The webbed hands cupped his pecs,and another presence pulled his legs apart and squirmed underneath to take the cock into its amphibious mouth.

A warmth grew in the pit of his stomach and spread to his loins and inside his thighs. A warmth that became a burining need, as tangible as a cushion forcing his hips up to meet the pounding thrust tearing into his prostate, hurting the walls of his ruined chute. A red hot burn poured through his cock into the greedy sucking mouth in violent exhausting spurts. The frog ceature tensed, and he could feel the fiery fluid filling his bowels.

The pain and the drug finally overcame the Lt. Jason Flint and he lay, decorated nay seal, naked and raped on the sea floor. Once more scaly arms gathered the limp hunk and pulled his insensate form towards the villain's lair. His suffering, as Qube had promised, had only just begun.

Full Fathoms Five

The ice in Qube's glass was tinkled with the agitation of his shaking hand. The other hand squeezed the last drooling droplets out of his swollen dick. It had been more than worth the sacrifice of a few henchman to witness this scene. Giant screens lining the cave walls were already replaying the brutal degradation, but nothing would recapture the aching ecstacy of witnessing the first rape of his steely tough navy SEAL firsthand. That carefully planned, image was seared into his mind for eternity. The toughguy stud, vulnerable and nude, stretched out undulating on the sea floor, like a carp on a hook eventually relaxing into stilllnes, his only link to life the aprhodisiac gas pumping from his oxygen tank into his heaving lungs, His steely muscles glowed blue white in the otherwordly light of azure depths. Even whiter, his firm virgin buttocks raised slighty over the rock where his slim hips had come to gentle rest, an gift from the Posiden, framed only by the small straps of that tanalizing cup.That image alone, could have satisfied him. The straps gave to the slightest tug of webbed fingers, and the graceful line of naked rib, hip and lean taut leg lay completly exposed to the beast which hovered above to claim the treasure buried between the submerged white granite globes. The unbearable look of concentrated pain on that beautiful, masculine face, and the sight of the thin waist widening into spherical perfection, where huge finned rod speared into that tender crack sent Qube over the edge spewing cum onto the thick glass, while the unsated monsters danced the impaled hunk around, one thrusting vengefully from behind,as the other drained manly seed into his greedy maw.

Qube prayed the ____ would not devour him after the assault, as he had seen them do to many unfortunate divers before. He had trained them very well, but he had to admit. Flint looked like a tasty feast even to him. Still, the understanding that the hunky lieutenant slumbered in the midst of such mortal danger was enough to stiffen his piggish cock anew. He breathed a sigh of relief as they carried his defeated form back to the base uneaten.

He turned breathless when he heard the airlock, and saw his captured prize, ass first, ascending the ladder. Once again hanging limp, peaceful, over the frogman's shoulder. This time however the glorious raped buttocks were completly naked, and his for the taking. The white melons shiny with sea water which soaking the hairs on the striated muscles of his swaying legs and dropping with each froggy step as the beast carried the burden to it's new owner, and handed him the torn jock strap.

He inhaled the wet coten deeply and gazed upon the ruined hole oozing blood and frogman semen.

A reverent whisper, barely audible choked from his parched throat. "So beautiful... so .. dirty."

The cotton trophy dropped to the floor, and he one wraithlike claw dug into the unyielding flesh of granite buttock, followed quickly by its twin, carressing the taut round muscles manipulating the drenched globes apart for better access to the ruined chute.

"We must clean you."

He dived face first into the heavenly vale, grizzeled jaw wedged into the bruised perinium, sunken cheeks nestling deeply into the inner cleft, agile tongue plummeting full fathom past the defeated sphincter, rat tat tatting on the drum of the sensitized prostate. Deep within his nightmare the unconcious hunk, head and arms swaying upside down toward the floor, uttered the fainest of moans pulling the moist invader sounding further and further into new territory.

His patient henchmen waitied an eon while his master tasted all the dark delights of the depths of the captured SEAL.

Finally pulling back, he retrieved the precious jock strap, wiped his face with the juice of it's former owner, and sighed.

"Bind him for deep cleaning."

It was the sound of the whistling whip, more than the sharp bolt of pain that jolted Flint awake. As Qube had predicted the sublime music of his screams raged through his heart like a celestial choir. The suspened stud, this time in an upside down X, did not have time to draw another breath for the next manly howl, before the lash fell again, and again. In between the bursts of pain he became aware of metal clamps biting into his bleeding nipples, balls, and inserted into the tip of his cock attached to wires running to the thrrone. Unable to count the strikes, he could barely focus as they slowed. He saw Qube watching from his throne, feet up on his strange ottoman. Two Frogmen behind, delivering blows , and a third pointing a hose at him.

Qube began to clap. He was wearing Flint's ripped jock strap as a necklace.

"Welcome back to our little party Lieutenant. I must say you put on a delightful show for us. Now we must clean you off after your strenuous efforts."

"You BASTARD... AHHHGG!!" The whip fell again, followed by an exlposive jet from the hose shooting salt water into his wounds. Flint, struggling to maintain conscious, barely had the ability to scream, let alone curse

"No, still not quite sufficient, don't you agree?" Qube touched the control panel in his armrest, and lighting crackled from the clamps sizzling through the rain of salt water cascading over sleek catlike muscles, mingling with the blood pouring from his wounds to form a pink cocktail enveloping the hanging head. The stalwart lieutenant performed a frenzied jig, to the beat of the electricity surging into his burning cock, balls and nipples.

"Very cleansing, no? But we have not scoured every nook and cranny, have we? And you have been a very, very dirty boy."

Flint made a valiant effort to struggle as a second hose was forced into his abused asshole.

"We need you very clean for our next little drama, this is my own concoction; sea water and something wonderfully special. It will help you relax, and I so enoy watching to pass in, and out of conciousness"

Flint could smell his own flesh burning as the electricty and and spray shook through him again, but now he felt the powerful rush of water flood into his very centre, filling him until he must burst. He began, once more to feel a delightful sense of floating, as if he were again swimming, floating free, the receding bolts left a pleasant tingling in is balls, nipples and rising cock, He felt his stomach release, and was flying in a sea of lust as he was, gently released from his bonds, bathed clean. He heard Qube's singsong voice, a lullabye, loving and far away as hands, hundreds of healing, hungry hands caressed evry inch of his nude, musclar form wafted him through the air, spinning him over and draping him face down over something cool. His ass riding high, the focus of so much desire, bonds snapped snugly around his wrists and ankles, but he continued to fly above where even the air seemed to want him. His iron dick pulsed against the metal on which it rested.

Qube turned when he heard the sound of the captured nuclear sub dock in his compound. He settled back in his throne, feet high up on his newly completed footstool, and nodded to his henchmen.

"Bring the new ones to me."

He looked up to his heels, resting hevily into the firm flesh of Flint's upraised glutes and smiled.

"There is so much more fun to be had."

The Battle

Commander Mitch Walkers' square jaw clenched with concern. "goddammit Jae" he thought "Where the fuck are you?" He ran an oversized hand through buzz cut blonde hair, and slammed it down impotently on the control panel. Walker's hands and feet were slightly outsized, and powerful like a labrador puppy. In spite of his 29 years, this was his only less than mature feature. A natural leader from birth, Walker exuded a calm authorotarian presence earned only by a few older men. It was this quality that won him command of a nuclear submarine, younger than any who held this rank.

His men trusted his instincts, and his genuine concern for their well being. He was considered the best in the fleet.

Jason Flint was not only his best operative, he been his most trusted friend since the academy. It wasn't like his old friend to be late or report a problem. Jason was in trouble.

The orders where to move on to the next sector, but he couldn't leave Flint. He'd have to go looking for him.

His Nebraska drawl cut through the low engine rumble.

"Gianelli, take command. I'm going to suit up"

"But, sir" The dusky haired Providence tough guy, could be a bit of a hothead, but he could handle the ship while Walker did what had to be done.

"Do it!"

Walker striped of his T-shirt to unveiling a classical torso dusted lighly by blonde viking hair, and strode purposefully toward the gear to suit up. Shiny dog tags glinted against his tan naked chest.

By the time he reached the equipment chamber, he was down to small white skivvies. This cotton conformed to the effiecient musculature of his hips, and sharply dimpled ass.

He skimmed effincienly out of these, the spherical perfection of his steel glutes highlighted by the contrast of his dark tan against the viginal white of the skin never exposed to the sun's longing rays. and carefully "painted on" the legs of his snug wet suit. It took time to cover each curve with the snug nylon, he had just reached his hips when

The ships alarm sounded.

He hit the intercom button with his meaty fist.

"Walker"

"It's Flanagan, Sir"

Wil Flanagan, the youngest member of the crew had been assigned late, and wasn't even on the official roster. Depsite his deceptivley rounded baby face, the kid had promise. Clothed, one might mistake him for chubby. He was anything but. His broad shoulders, massive chest, tree trunk legs, and full round ass pulled most covering into a shape which belied his cut and tapered waist. Unclothed, it was plain that he carried nothing but muscle on his stocky 5'9 frame. In fact he prided himself on a near complete lack of unnecessary body fat. Still his youthful muscles seemed round, full, and well, ripe, like spring peaches.

"Sir, we've found something. I think you'd better get down here"

"Flint?"

"No sir, it's something I've never seen"

"I'm on my way"

Walker's habitual stoic calm was for the first time in his young life, shaken to it's core by the sight of the otherworldly bodies of the strange creatures before them. His analytic mind struggled to come to terms with the scaly humanoids oozing water and slime before him

Slighty shoter than humans, with long gangly, ape like extremities. His inner self was haunted by an instinctual sense of doom probaby caused by the bizarre reality of their disproportionatley huge finned dicks. What were these things? Where did they come from? What had killed them?

Did the have something to do with Flint's disappearance?

"Report."

"We don't know sir" Flanagan was trying to keep his voice steady. "The survelliance cameras picked up these shapes on a coral outcropping. There is no sign of trauma, Doc suspects a poision"

At 36, Doc was the oldest member of the crew, and an intimidating presence due to his shaved head, 6'3 frame, and a hard hair covered body more of a bodybuilding biker than skilled physician.

"Where is Doc?"

"Gone to sick bay, sir, to prepare for the autopsy."

Walker nodded, Doc was always one step ahead.

He ordered Flanagen and two crewman to bring the bodies to sick bay

"I'll go to the bridge and report to headquarters, Flanagan remain in sick bay and assist Doc. Volpe, Waggoner, suit up after delivering the bodies, I want you out there to see if there are more of these things, or any sign of Flint."

"Yes sir!"

Still barechested and with the half worn wetsuit riding low on his hips, exposing the dimpled curve of upper buttock, he stormed onto deck, brushing past the started Gianelli, and grabbed the radio.

"This is Commander Mitchell Walker of the U.S.S Hunter. This is an urgent message."

Through the static, he heard a faint voice.

"Go ahead Mitch buzzzzzz... This Admir..zzzzz .."

The connection went dead "Goddammit! Gianelli I want a signal on this piece of shit NOW!"

"Yessir."

The lights went dead, only the dim emergency lighting illuminated the chamber. Red alert was sounding. The engines began to whine. They were moving!!

The intercom cut through the blaring horn. It was Doc.

"Mitch, get down here those things are alive!!!!"

"They pushed me out of sick bay! The doors barred! Get security here NOW!! They've got Flanagan knocked out. They've stripped hi.. Oh God!! NO!!

"Doc, what is it?"

"They're..... eating him!!! They're cutting off his a.. AGGGHHHHH!!!"

"DOC!!!!!"

A rhythmic pounding could be heard

" AAAAHHHH unng...Ungh ug.. ung... ung....huh huh huh huh ung..."

"SECURTY TO SICK BAY!!!"

No answer came.

Walker and Gianelli rushed to the portal. Gianelli was flung back against the control panel by a single blow from the frogman's pike. There were three, waiting for them in the door, but they weren't ready for Walker's superior strength, speed, and lethal precision. The blonde, bare-chested commander learned quickly that these things were not exceptional fighters, slow, awkward, not especially strong, at least on land, and surprisingly cowardly.

Within seconds two of the monsters lay dead at his feet, the third in cowering retreat.

Gunshots fired in the gloom.

Walker, and a quickly recovered, but bleeding Gianelli followed in hot pursuit.

"Try not to shoot in here Dominic! Too risky, use your knife."

The ship was crawling with them. Where did they all come from?

They crew, was handling them ably, but there wer so many. Water was spraying in from pipes, in the thick dim confines of the sub wet muscles strived against slimy scales, Blood, both red and black coated the floor with slippery dark ooze. Walker and Gianelli fought there way through the ship, leaving awake of frogmen in thier path toward sick bay, where they found those few unfortuate enough to fall to the sudden attack, including an unconsious Doc, his body, once a walking threat, stripped naked bounced into the floor with each thrust from the invading cock of the frogman who had caught him off guard. Red blood covered the floor but there was no remaining sign of the unlucky Flanagan . Walker nearly retched at the thought of sharp fangs plunging into the young juicy muscles of the doomed crewman, and prayed Flint was still alive..

Walker quickly dispatched with the rapist. Doc, bleeding from scratches, bites, and his conquered asshole, was alive but badly hurt. He looked up at Gianelli.

"We've got to secure the airlock!"

They hacked a bloody path to the other side of the vessel to the equipment chamber. More creatures were pouring through.

Walker squared off against one particulary tenacious opponent. His dagger plunged in past it scales, at least four times, it bled, but remained standing. These ugly fuckers were getting bold, and Walker was getting tired. His breathing was becoming deep and laboured, and he became aware of a sweet pungent smell invading his nostrils, lungs, and head. His vison began to track, and his movements slowed. The monster seemed to slow with him, watching. A lizard tongue darted out and circled it's mouth, licking the fanged and lipless opening. He began to stumble as if stoned, and to his amazement, he was growing rock hard. A warm, ticklish sensation washed through him with every breath. A fuzzy tingling at the base of his neck, beneath his ribs, the back of his knees, and his armpits, making him almost laugh. It spread like two small flames into his now pointing nipples, along the base of his spine, a dull throbbing ache into his twitching asshole, shooting a painful heat into his engorged dick straining naked against the snug nylon of his low riding wetsuit.

He darted a glance toward Gianelli who had fallen to his knees, and did not resist as the frogman tore open his shirt revealing wide bronze muscle coated in black hair and sweat. Other moaning comrades undulated slowly on the wet, slimy floor as thier lustful attackers began to move in. His brow furrowed, puzzeled as if trying to work out an equation. He could not move to help them. He caught sight of a vent.

They had gotten into the venthilation system!

They were breathing some kind of narcotic gas.

The intrepid Commander took a swing at his opponent, only to fall into the monster's arms like a drunken prom date. His knife clattered to the floor. Thin, scaly arms lovingly enfolded the burnished cables of muscle, webbed hands bravely follwed the tapering trail of waistline, and began, with difficulty, to pull the wet nylon of the muscular swell of Walker's tight ass. The barely concious stud groaned as his newly freed cock pulsed against the sandpaper scales of the frogman's leg. The monster fell, wounded, onto a bench, pulling the defeated bare assed warrior over his knee, like a naughty child. The creature, froze for a moment, gaping in awe at the white dimpled globes, contrasting with the dark skin of the tapered waist above, and the black nylon which still hobbled the meaty thighs, exposed and vulnerable to it's whim.

With all of its vengeful might, the webbed claw desended in a reign of stinging blows. The sensitve ivory skin blushed angry red under the punishment. Walker's gruff moan echoed through the chamber, as the blows pounded his dripping cock against the tiny sharp scales onto which it was pressed. His blurring eyes scanned the chamber, witness to a hellish scene of rape and carnage. A webbed fist forced it's way into Gianelli's helpless hole, and the Italian tough joined a choir of masculine moans and screams. The imapled hunk, in agony, kicked over an oxygen tank which rolled just within Walker's reach.

That's it! If only he could...

With his remaining strength, he rolled off his assailants lap face up, cock pointing straight at the far away surface his smooth broad back seeped in ooze and seawater on the floor. The bleeding frogman knelt at his side, and gently scooped the limp stud, into the crook of one arm, the close cropped blonde head hung submissivley backward, playing freely along the beefy lines of the classical torso. It opened it's mouth exposing rows of sharp fangs. Walker dimly wondered if he was to become it's meal. But the mouth nibbled softly down the path forged by it's hand, kissing into the blonde forest at the base, and finally enveloping the helpless Commander's raging cock.

The tiny threatening fangs only added to the burning eroticism of what had to be the most intense blow job he had ever experienced. Lighting bolts of need shot through his blown mind. His ass clenched,and he began to thrust up into the all powerful vortex. He began to writhe in horrified ecstacy, and his hand brushed against his fallen knife. From somewhere within him, he found the last scrap of self control.

"NO!"

He grabbed the blade and plunged it into his rapist's skull.

The creature shuddered, but still sucked, Walker shuddered with it, and released a steaming load of cum into the dead frogman's throat.

With the other creatures distracted by their own prey, he was able to reach the tank unnoticed.

He pulled the regulator into his mouth and began to breathe real, pure oxygen. His mind began to clear.

Faraway, he heard a banging and felt the ship come into a dock. All systems whirred to a stop, the alarm finally silenced. An unfamiliar pinging rang through the ship, and all the creatures stood. Each one reached down and threw a naked crewman over it's shoulder. A nightmarish procession of naked upraised buttocks, carried by the silent monsters began to exit the sub toward an unfathomable doom.

He felt more webbed hands remove the last of his wetsuit, claim his limp form, and finally pull the dead mouth, off of his still hard and sticky member.

This was the only way to get in. He cupped the blade along his wrist. He knew it wasn't his hands they were looking at.

Blood rushed to his head pointing down at the floor. His sweaty pecs presed into the hunched finback, and his cock was trapped painfully beween his own weight, and the boney scaled shoulder. He felt the humiliation of the cool air kissing his naked ass, pointed skyward. A captured prize on display.

His arms, head and legs swayed with the frogman's movement, as if oblivious to his predicament. He did not react as the webbed fingers cupped the smooth hairless gluteal curve.

He felt himself carried, out of the ship through an unfamiliar airlock, and prayed he was last in line.

He counted to ten and then sank his blade under the ribs of his captor, who thankfully, made no sound, and rode the dying form to the ground.

Walker looked up and saw Gianelli's head and forarms hanging as he was carried up a ladder. Assesing the situation quickly he pulled the dead frogman into a supply closet, and moved silently to follow his captured men.

Part Five: Banquet

Commander Mitch Walker allowed himself to slide to the floor next to the dead frogman, rest his head heavily into his shaking meaty hand, and tried to clear his head.

He had to pull it together. Only he could save his men.

He tried to take stock of the situation. He was alone in enemy headquarters, God only knows how many meters under the sea. His ship had been captured, and all hands who were not eaten were taken and--oh God--raped, by strange creatures whose only apparent motive was the sexual abuse of young human males.

He could not recover from the experience of the bizarre, repugnant creature pawing his perfectly shaped muscles like a whore, turning him over its knee and beating his dimpled round ass like a child, and finally his helpless cock exploding his seed into the spiky vortex that was its mouth.

And what they had done to poor Flanagan devouring his flawless muscled flesh, like a side of beef?

How many of these monsters were there? What did they want, apart from young, juicy manflesh? How had they built this compound?

How could he save his men?

Still groggy from the strange gas, he was naked, and to make matters worse, his dick was still rock hard, and showed no signs of relaxing.

This vapor seemed designed to weaken human males by intense erotic excitement. His swollen member made it very hard to concentrate. He didn't have much information to take on an unknown and very powerful foe.

His reverie was broken by the sound of very angry, very human shouting coming from a vent near the ceiling of the closet. His men had no time for him to deliberate. Blade between his teeth, he silently removed the screen, and muscles straining raised himself into the duct.

Silent and graceful, Walker moved like a stalking panther on all fours through the confined space. The muscles on his naked thighs rippled as they worked, the round curve of his buttocks raised slightly pushing him toward the languid, effeminate voice, which seemed to bellow his name.

"Walker!!!! Where is he?????!!!!!"

Walker peered through a vent onto a surprisingly elegant banquet table. He recognized decorating the walls beyond photographs of his crewman marked with numbers as if for sale, everyone on the ship's roster. Covered chafing dishes were being laid on the long table by more of the bizarre frogmen. In the soft glow of torchlight, he made out familiar faces of international terrorists and yes, international oil men. There, beating his fists at the head of the table and squealing like spoiled schoolgirl, was Qube.

Of course, Qube was behind this. The dainty claw of the spindly arch-villian encircled the gills of the nearest frogman.

"There is one prize missing. WHERE IS HE???? WHERE IS MY WALKER???? !!!!!!!"

The frightened creature nodded toward a chafing dish. Qube paused wide eyed and lifted the silver dome. Walker tried not to retch.

There steaming from the ovens, on a bed of seaweed lay a pair of round perfectly formed gluteal muscles .. what was left of Flanagan. The hapless crewman's cock lay threateningly below the curve which separated them long and fully engorged.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!" came the high pitched wail as Qube seemed to crumple at the sight. Rocking with apparent grief he clutched at the creature. "He ...was.. to.. have been... MIIIINNEE!!! You could have chosen ANY of the other crewman, but you sunk you filthy fangs INTO MY PROPERTY!!!!! How do I repay disobedience? HOW!!!!??"

But the monster as already sinking to the floor, its own weapon lodged between his ribs.

With tear filled eyes, Qube turned back to the grisley dish before him, gently touching the round curves like a grieving lover.

"Oh my beautiful Commander, you were to have been my treasure. I would have posessed you so completely. From the soft blonde hairs covering your broad chest, your powerful cock. These peerless muscles were to have writhed before me in unwilling supplication as I tore them apart with my insatiable dick and listened to the music of your violated screams. He wiped a tear from his eye. "Now I must take you in the only manner I have left."

Pulling himself together he surveyed his stunned dinner companions.
"Gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption. I hope it has not affected your appetite. You see I will tolerate no insubordination. No matter, as you see we have left an entire crew of exquisite Navy SEALS to satisfy your wildest desires. Let us finish our dinner where we will join our new friends.. and ..um ..negotiate." He raised a goblet of blood red wine. "Here's to our delicious Navy SEALS, and their heroic stamina.. they're going to need it" A ripple of laughter, and tinkling crystal circled the table, and the rest of the dishes were revealed containing other parts of the unfortunate Wil Flanagan. Walker did not turn away in time to see them raise his silverware and spear his fork into the left flank of the slaughtered youth, and even has he closed his eyes, he could hear the bastards begin to chew. He would never forget. Choking on bile, he could not stop his head from spinning. Flanagan... oh God.. poor Flanagan.. He remembered the open, boyish face, contrasting with his massive, stocky build. His easy laugh, and constant push to better himself, stronger, leaner, faster. A soldier on the threshold of perfection. The faggot would PAY. Qube's word still rang in his head describing what he meant to do to him
"his treasure..his possesion".. His breathing had grown labored as he listened to these repulsive words "writhing in unwilling supplication" the gas still fogged his mind, his dick throbbed, dripping into the duct and sticking on his stomach. Filled with rage, exhaustion, and hatred. His heart pounded so wildly he feared his enemies could hear it's thunder. Unable to find his breath he fell into blackness, powerful muscles relaxed into stillness. With only the murky darkness of his confine to cover his hard rounded muscles, he lay naked and alone only feet above the heads of the ruthless cannibals who feasted on innocent flesh they thought was his, pre cum drying on his breadbasket abdominals.
A shrill giggle woke him, he heard Qube comment on the strong gamey taste of the meat. His dick still throbbed, but he could think more clearly now. Flanagan.. he had joined up late. His name wasn't published on the roster. Of course, that's why Qube mistakenly believed him dead. Poor Wil may not have died entirely in vain. He had left him one gift. He no longer existed. He was a ghost. He could move silently through this compound and sabotage the command centre. By the time that sick fuck realized what was going wrong he would have freed his men, and orders be dammed he would kill that cannibal faggot himself. The repulsive party began to rise and move toward a larger room, and with renewed hope, Walker replaced the blade in his mouth, predatory.. stalking revenge, followed them into a nightmare he could not have imagined.

Part Six: The Minotaur

The dappled aquatic light which flickered softly through the glass chamber belied the horror which it contained.

His men, the best, the strongest , the most elite of the U.S. armed forces. These men under his command and care were displayed around the hall like slabs of meat in a butcher shop, fondled and toyed with like limp blow up dolls as the calm deep sea life glided gracefully past the glass enclosure, without pity or care.

Tilden and Cage, thier lean muscles restrained, X-shaped hand and foot, shuddered under relentless whipping, as an enema tube filled Stafford's furry hole with an unknown blue substance from a huge suspended vat drained into many hoses, no doubt subjecting others, who he could not yet see, to the same humiliation. Undetected he slipped from the air duct onto an overhead walkway to dispatch the Frogman guard too enraptured by the scene to notice his assassin's blade slit him gill to gill. His massive quads strained as he hunkered down behind the railing.

Heavy male musks of sweat, blood, and cum, mingled with processed briney air.

Below him, bathed in dim blue light, a roiling sea of rippling muscle, sighed and undulated in anguished captivity.

Gianelli, bronzed descendant of Roman gods, moaned softly as a long amphibian tongue invaded his pert ass, bent over the the Saudi terrorist who knelt before him to suckle his thick cock, and Doc, poor Doc once again was pounded into the floor. This time, it was a greasy oil man slamming into his helpless manhole. It was quite a party for the faggots. None one of these prime studs was left unattended. Nipples, and cocks, grossly engorged, by gases or drugs, were pierced with long pins. Body hair singed away by small torches. Fat balls tied indigo, with tiny straps. Frogmen, and terrorists, sucked, whipped, burned,cut, pinched and fucked the most perfectly sculpted male bodies in the U.S. Navy to the accompaniment of a low chorus of moans, and soft half conscious cries.

Each man, he now saw, was shackled not my rope or chain, but by a stringy white ooze, something between seaweed and cum. It seemed to be a living organism, roughly yanking the limbs of each hunky meat puppet, into a new desired position by some unseen command. The nightmare was amplified by huge flat video monitors lowered to encircle to room, magnifying each humiliation in vivid big srceen detail. There, in the centre, of all of this carnage, Qube. Languidy reclining into a large obsidian throne, his delicate talons tapping onto a glowing keyboard set into the armrest, and his feet up on.....

Oh God NO...

Doubled over a hollow column, bound writs to ankle hung Jason Flint. Qube's helpless footrest.

The intricate play of muscles on his vast back was overlaid by a crisscross of welts, his famously long cock pointed down through a hole at the apex was lazily serviced by a frogman lying underneath. His full round balls, and the dimpled , twin spheres of his perfect ass forced upward, on intimate display for the pleasure of the mad man seated behind him.

Oh Jae.

How long had he been... presented... like this? Mitch guessed days. This was the home Qube had made for his pet captive.

With serene joy, Qube surveyed his empire, absently allowing his ragged toenail, glinting with ancient, chipped gold paint to explore the cleft between the two chiseled mounds. Walker thought he heard a faint groan as a toe invaded his friend's sensitive chute. Sweat dripped from Flints spiked buzz cut, his head swayed softly from the degrading intrusion.

Without taking his eyes from his spherical trophy, Qube called out in a singsong voice to his nefarious guests.

"My dear guests1!! I am delighted to see you enjoying the hospitality of my stables so thoroughly, and that some of you have had a chance to test the limits of your recent purchases, but I fear we must pause, briefly, before we resume this evenings festivities, for now it is time to negotiate."

With one final brutal thrust, Doc's assailant exploded into his ruined hole and kicked the defeated muscleman into a crumpled heap on the wet floor, and joined the various baddies as they reluctantly left their squirming toys, to gather in a formal semi circle behind Qube's throne.

Mitch watched Qube's fingers dance upon the glowing screen in his armrest.
"That's it," he thought. "His command centre. That's how I can bring him down. I've got to find a way to get close to that screen without getting ass raped by one of those scaly mother-fuckers"

The frog creatures assumed sentinal positions around the room and Mitch hunkered behind a monitor to avoid their hungry eyes.

Qube's claw wafted over the keyboard and the monitors revealed the boardroom of the world council. Wlker's gaped to see the planet's most powerful leaders called together, at Qube's command.

The epicene villian settled into his easy chair, and addressed the council

"Gentlemen, I am honoured by the attention of this most august assembly. I promise not to impose too much upon your valuable time. You are aware of the recent unsettling seismic activity around the Pacific rim. I am certain you will join me in the sincere hope for the immediate cessation of the events"
"Enough Qube, what is it that you want"

"Yeah, and where the hell's my sub, you pansy freak?"

"Forgive me your Excellency, Mr. President, but I worry that some of you doubt my veracity. It is vital to me that you understand the extent of my ... influence. Observe."

Another waft of the hand and the screen revealed an oil rig

"Ah the rich waters of the Northern Pacific, such wild beauty, and such bounty underneath the rolling waves"

The hand flew again.

The rig began to pitch and roll, and was soon lost inside giant waves.

"Tsk, tsk such a shame. Imagine the tragedy should such a thing happen to Singapore?.. or Seattle? Yes, somehow I have a terrible premonition that Seattle may well be next, in exactly twenty four hours. Surely by now, your instruments have shown that I not only have this capability, but my humble abode rests on the largest oil reserve on the planet, which i would be delighted to share with you, at a most reasonable cost, if you are willing to cooperate with a few little requests. I am too much a gentleman to raise the tawdry subject of coin in company, so you will find my price in discreet envelopes in front of you."

"This is preposterous. You can't possibly think we..."

"As to the whereabouts of your vessel, sent so rudely to attack me, well I have taken it into my care, and am happy to host it's crew"

A collective gasp rose from the council as the monitors panned the room revealing the naked captives, coming to rest on a full view of Qubes throne, and it's unique ottoman.

"You see I have taken , very good care of them. I believe most of you know the famous Lieutenant Flint, decorated many times for feats of heroism in your service."

He rose to grasp a handful, of Flint's buzz cut, and give the assembly a good view of the handsome, slack jawed face. Flint's heavy eyelids widened slightly in seeming shamed recognition, a tiny glint of drool sparkled at the corner of his voluptuous lower lip. Qube let the head fall heavy back down, and stroked the bruised sinewy back.

"He is mine now, they are all mine."

He strolled back to his throne, turned around, and parted his robes to reveal a pockmarked sunken torso, and the largest cock Mitch had ever seen, hanging well below the bulbous kneecaps, thick as a man's forearm, and stiffening rapidly. His long white hands tremulously patted the granite curve of Flint's upraised ass.

"You must admit he is exquisite. The apogee of masculine achievement and beauty in it's prime. He is now my toy, and my footrest. His muscles are smooth and unyielding as polished marble. As I sit and hold sway over my little empire, this work of art is always before me, to comfort and inspire."

Qube's voice begin to quiver.

"Please .. forgive.. em.. my excitement. This is the first time I have fully enjoyed all that my toy has to offer. I wanted to wait so that I could share the experience with you. I wanted to show you how well I use my possessions"

Both Qube and his victim, groaned as the penile deformity invaded Flint's helpless chute. Mitch thought he saw a tear fall from his friend's eye and fall into a pile of sweat onto the granite tile. Qube found a gentle rhythm, Flint's head bobbed in time.

"Ohhhh. Ugghnn. He was made for this, He feels delicious, he embraces me like tight velvet. " One of the horrified dignitaries found his voice.
"You sick monstrous abomination!!!!!"
" Yes, your excellency, I am something of a beast" Qube spoke calmly for someone enjoying the best fuck of his life.
"I like to think of myself like the minotaur. Shall I remind you of the story? Old King Minos, a man after my own heart, defeated the city of Athens, and as the price of continued peacful..ugnnhh.. existence, he asked the small price of the of the city's most beautiful youths and maidens every nine years, as a sacrifice to his personal monster the Minotaur, which he housed far down in the depths of a secret labyrinth"

Qube increased his cadence, the virile beauty began to grunt in low agony with every thrust.

"In this fast paced age, I fear I must insist on a bi-annual gift." Qube chuckled. "However, I will allow you to keep your maidens. I shall return you submarine in the expectation that in exactly two years time it will deliver my own hand picked crew of such youths... oooh ahh succulent .. young men of my choosing .. in perpetuity. My surveillance of military personnel is extensive, and I already have some choice candidates in mind. 'As you already now, if you attempt again to send a sabotaged Theseus to destroy me, the sub and a city will be lost."

Qube's breath became labored as his speech, and pace increased.

"I am.. sure.. you. will agree...it.. is.. a small.. price to pay... to save .. millions... aahhh"

Qube began to hammer savagely into Flint's chute, slapping his hips anaginst the marbled curves

"You're MAD. We will never sacrifice our men to you!!"

"It ah is aahhh your choice... You have twenty four ... unnng.. hours. That is ALLLLLL"

Qube shot his greed and power deep within Flint's bowles as the monitors reverted to random views of ravaged muscle, and the cruel revelers resumed the ghoulish celebration.

Walker's teeth clenched in gritty determination. He had to stay strong in the face of the enormity of the situation. This was no longer just about saving his men.

In the shadow of the monitor, he lay vulnerable, naked one small blade in his meaty paw, and alone with the realization that he must save the world.....

Part Seven: Bait and Tackle

Mitch huddled and stunned in the shadow of the monitor, the licentious din of the statutory bacchanalia pealing into his overwrought brain.

Jae, oh God, how could this have happend? The best operative under his or any other's command. A man's man, noble, strong, confident, cocky and above all his most trusted friend.

They had been competitors at the academy, but never bitter rivals. They had tested and pushed each other. so much so that Mitch felt he owed everything to his friend. He was to be his best man, and he would be damned if he didn't ring this red blooded hero back safely to his hot young bride.

He knew Jae, his every look and mood, and he saw his slackened face. This noble fighter was sluggish but aware. The humiliation was unbearable. There before his commander and chief and the leaders of the free world a failed mission, stripped naked, bound ass up, defenseless pink hole exposed to the world,and fucked ragged by that weak limp-wristed punk. Qube had brutally raped the bound stud during the meeting as casually as one might toy with a pen, or pour coffee. No doubt a calculated display of his absolute power. Mitch winced at the thought.

He watched as Qube repeated the crime, this time with wild abandon, screeching his love for the interior of his friend's rectum at the top of his lungs, as a line formed behind to try this slice of heaven for themselves.

He wanted to jump into the fray and slice that fag open now, but it would do no good. He had to bide his time. The party was already beginning to break up. An aging insurgant, had flung Gianelli over his shoulder, and carried his bronzed glutes of to some private horror chamber. Others had already been carried away to whatever unthinkable atrocity fate had in sore for their carefully sculpted bodies.

His dick still raged. The air in here was tainted by small amounts of that gas. It only seemed to effect his men, not their attackers.He closed his eyes, just for a moment, to reserve energy He felt a webbed hand cup the firm curve of his butt, and thick shoulder. Another one Playing possum, he allowed the creature to roll his limp form face up, dick pointing skyward. He had taken out four guards in this fashion so far. Their bodies piled up in the air duct. They must think he was one of the captured crew, dragged to this remote corner during the frenzy of the orgy. If these things thought at all.

The ripe, sinewy structure of strong young human males drew these dumb beasts like moths to a flame. They seem to have no other purpose but the ravenous consumption of virile young studs, both sexually and literally. Knowledge of this single minded obsession made killing them like falling off a log. This one, apparently, wanted to start with his pecs. he arched his back voluptuosly as the little fangs nibbled daintily into the soft blond fur covering the wide plains of his armored breast. Walker had never been vain. He had more important ambitions than to worry about his looks, but he knew what drew female and, to his disgust, sometimes male eyes. Experience had taught him what bait to offer these mindless carnivores.

Its claw wandered down o stroke his oozing cock. he let out a little sighing moan to draw the beast in.

"That's right Kermit, you know you want it.... you need it." his hand tightened around his blade. "... it's all laid out for you like Christmas dinner on a plate, it's all yours, enjoy it come closer to daddy's hook" He moaned louder and and rolled his tits up further toward the creature's bugging eyes as a rough amphibean tounge darted, and latched onto his left nipple. It died silently, but in paradise, falling at Walkers' side, and was piled on top of it's fallen comrades. Walker was going to have to find new storage for these things.

He shot a careful glance over the railing. the hall had darkend. Jae hung alone, in the echoing chamber draped over his column. His ass highlighted by a pinlight. A solitary and valuable work of art, the only light in the centre of a darkened gallery. Leave it to that pansy to degrade his victims with artistic lighting.

Now was his chance.

A quick survey revealed no predatory eyes in the gloom. Walker spied a nearby dangling chain, used less than an hour before to bind Ritter's ankles leaving the square jawed ensign dangling head down six feet above the slime slick limestone to be beaten like a pinata, and lowered slowly into a gauntlet of electric prods, until more organic rods finished off his torment.

The Commander clenched his teeth around his blade, grasped the chain, and swung, an embattled Tarzan, onto the silent chamber.

The pungent scent of man sex mingled headily with the ever present narcotic gas to make is knees weak as he gracefully alighted onto the slippery tiles and crept toward his abused friend.

"Jae.... Jae c'mon man"

He gently slapped his jaw.

" Ugnn.. ge.. off.. fuckin fag... ot"

The muscleman's eyes rolled back in his head.

"Jae .. it's me Mitch"

".. Mi..cch?"

"C'mon buddy."

"Mitch.. uungh... go GO unnghhnnn...."

Flint's head fell in his hands. He was out

"Jae? Jae stay with me buddy"

He tested the strength of the ooze which bound the passed out stud's wrists and ankles. The viscous stuff adhered to his fingers with a powerful grip. It was cool, wet and extremely strong. He couldn't seem to break it. It re-formed around his blade where he sliced into it.

He remembered Qube seemed to control it's movement from the armrest. That had to be the answer.

He rested his oversized paw gently on Flint's shoulder. "Ok buddy. You rest. I'm here, let's get you free." There was no response.

Walker jumped into the tyrant's rocky couch and was struck instantly by an awesome sense of absolute power. He was used to the responsibility of command, but this was the seat of a genuine megalomaniac. Someone who held absolute sway over his little realm without any sense of culpability or care for those who labored under his iron fist. An omnipotent child on an ancient throne.

He looked sorrowfully at his friend.The gooey bonds stretched his arms painfully along his sides fusing elbow to knee, wrist to ankle., so that from this vantage point there was no way to avoid the sight of those massive
boulders that were Flint's overdeveloped glutes, and the pendulous balls hanging free below. Luminous white against the surrounding gloom, Walker could see clearly every muscle that muscle that formed the perfect curves, the twin spheres were for wide, and painfully apart leaving the abused hole gaping and exposed for the easiest possible access.

The occupant of this throne had only to stand and step forward to violate this intrepid hero. Walker could not count how many times Qube had done just that during the course of the evening, and how many he had invited to plunge in after him.

The hole still leaked cum and blood over the wispy fringe of hair that surrounded it, and down the interior of the meaty thighs.

The low hanging balls, he noticed were riddled with tiny punctures. Tears welled in his eyes.

He looked down at the screen in the armrest. This wouldn't be easy. It was covered in unfamiliar hieroglyphics. He waved his hand over it, and it responded with a pulsing greenish light.

He brushed a fingertip across one of the lighted figures. Flint's left arm relaxed in a loosened bond.

Interesting. He tried again. Flint's arm shot back into tight bondage. The hanging ooze lengthened noticeably in the corners from the walls. Walker's eyes were drawn by the movement. He felt something moist pool under his forearm, by the time he could react, he felt the same sticky sensation under his other forearm.The same goo was growing rapidly from the armrests. How could have he have been so stupid?

His well honed lightning reflexes he shot from the chair, only to be shot back into place, by an equal and irresistible force.

His biceps and the veins on his his mighty arms bulged to superhuman size as struggled against the glutinous substance. His stomach lurched as he felt the chair begin to recline. Muculent ropes twined their way around his frantically kicking ankles and underneath his pecs pushing the already mountainous muscle into Himalayan proportion. Other ropes constricted his thighs, neck and the base of his throbbing cock.

He was laid out flat now, with his arms up on he rests, like a sun bed. Delicate fingers smoothed the sweat matted hair from his brow.

"I cannot say how relieved I am to find you among the living Commander."

NO! It was Qube. It can't have been this easy. He thrashed like a wild animal in a trap. The fingers softly traced along the side of his face, his shoulders, and tickled his under arms as Qube spoke.
"It should have been a great tragedy should we never have met face to... face. But you can't really believe I relied entirely on the ship's roster, or was unaware of the existence of the hehehe succulent Ensign Flanagan. Delicious, not really like chicken at all."

The tiny fingertips rubbed rubbed the erect nipples,, and danced along the sides of his rib cage.

"I hope you enjoyed my little performance. I should truly have been devastated to have missed the chance to truly enjoy the perfection of your helpless body."

As if he were reading braille, Qube continued downward, avoiding the turgid member, along the hips, investigating the interior thigh. The naked Walker shivered in response to the degrading exploration

"You see, your vessel has been riddled with my surveillance devices since you left port. Oh the delightful sights I have seen as you approached" The screens came alive of he and his crew, changing, showering, Flanagan beating off. Walker felt he was about to vomit.

"I have been practically drooling in anticipation of your visit"

The expeditious digits had found their way to the soles of the feet, to tickle the sensitive instep, and back up the interior of the calves, and thighs sending shock waves into Walkers already pulsing member.

"You, and your sleepy friend here, are the jewels in my little collection. I will never sell you off, and only share your treasures on special occasions. You are to be my personal, and most valuable possessions.... forever"

Qube had worked his way back to the rippling stomach, and roughly grabbed two full handfuls of man tit in his vice like claws

"Even as you grow older, you may be assured that my servants and I will..." Qube licked his lips, "have a use for every inch of your delectable bodies."

Walker chocked back the bile in his throat, and pounded his arms against his fungal bonds.

Qube straddled his heaving abs. Walker felt his attacker's rock hard deformity lay threateningly all the way from his stomach to his throat. In his wild struggle, his hand brushed against the armrest control panel. Miraculously, the ooze began to recede. As if on a first date Qube sprayed a little atomizer into his mouth.
"This little trick should help you relax" The ancient pervert leaned in and parted Walkers inviting full lips with his invading tongue. Whatever that spray was, it's sweet suffocating taste made his head light and his dick ache. This freak had unlimited ways to drug his victims into submission. Walker held his breathe. His mind was weakened but still his own. The ooze continued it's slow retreat... almost. Qube's mouth followed his finger's example slobbering all over his pecs, tenderly biting at the abused nipples, and along the magic treasure trail. Walker inconspicuously yanked an arm free., and undulated toward the villain, just like the hapless frogmen before. 'That's right grandpa, you just keep you focus on that cock you want so bad.' Both arms were free. He reached for his knife. No this also was too easy. Why should this demented pervert die in the throes of ecstatic passion? This mother-fucker was going to PAY! He would beat the old fag to death with his own mighty fists, and it was going to feel good. Qube's fetid mouth closed around his victim's throbbing cock, and Walker struck.

Part Eight: OctoQubie's Garden

For the first time, possibly ever a look of bewildered surprise crossed Qube's sunken face as he slid down the opposite glass wall not unlike Wile E. Coyote. The unexpected punch had blown him across the chamber with the force of a violent explosion. His curved back screamed with pain where it had connected with the unyielding thick glass wall. His boney ass finally made contact with the wet limestone, and he spit four decaying teeth from his bloody mouth.

He had to confess his intended victim had massive powerful fists. The owner of those same fists now strode toward him like an angry god. Not since his boyhood when he was subject to daily beatings from just such disdainful beauties, had Qube felt terror.

No stud, no matter how strong or skilled had ever escaped his oozing shackles. This one was indeed his most worthy choice,. Too worthy. He may die in his attempt to conquer such a divine being.

He had no time to muse, as the meaty paw connected again with his delicate glass chin, send more teeth across the room.

"Like playing with big boys do ya faggot?"

One oversized meat hook encircled his throat and pulled him high off the ground. A steaming puddle of urine pooled under the floor underneath his tiny dangling feet.

Walker's nose wrinkled in disgust

"Please.. mercy."

"You want mercy!!!? You want the same mercy you showed my men!!!!!???? Did you show mercy when you tied them up and raped their asses???!! The big screens were still playing scenes from the sub, some showed the battle, others showed Flint's first rape. Mitch caught sight of himself draped over the creature's knee and spanked. Walker's free mitt pounded into his soft belly.
"The same mercy you showed when you ate Wil??!!!" The huge fist connected with his liver.

"You..." POUND
"Sick" POUND
"FAGGOT" SLAM
"FREAK!!!!"

One more blinding gut punch sent pink vomit trickling over the mighty fist that gripped his throat. Qube could barely breathe.

"Listen FAGGOT. You got one minute to release my men, and you got two minutes to live. DO IT NOW!!!!!"

Walker flung the sniveling rapist, single handedly back across the room, over his knocked out footrest and into his own throne. The cue ball skull made a sickening sound as it connected with the stone of the chair. He hoped he had not killed him before he could release the crew, and sighed with relief as he saw the dazed pervert twitch, and raise frightened, but still lust filled, eyes toward his attacker . He had to keep his head, and keep control. He was dealing with one slippery mother-fucker
"NO TRICKS FAGGOT"
"Pl... please don't make me release my prizes.." Walker back handed him like a coke addled, back alley whore
"NOW!!"

Qube raised a trembling hand toward the control panel, and was slammed to the ground by a ringing punch to the ear.

"I SAID NO TRICKS MOTHERFUCKER!!!"

Qube began to crawl back onto the throne, only to be slammed down again. Walker's foot pressed his neck onto the floor, and spit into his eye. He had Qube pissing himself with fear and begging for his life. He was enjoying this a little too much, but after what he had survived, he deserved to relish a bit of sweet sweet revenge.

"I don't think you heard me you little pansy cock-sucker. NO TRICKS!!! Now you're gonna get back up there nice and slow and release my friend, and then you and me are gonna go for a little walk, and let all my men free, and maybe I'll let you live. GOT IT FAGGOT?? Qube nodded as much as he could manage with Walker's size eleven cutting of his air supply. Walker felt more than saw the big screens flicker and change. He heard a familiar Connecticut twang echo through the chamber.
"Commander Walker" He turned, wide eyed and relieved to see the folksy cowboy face of is hero. His brave commander-and chief. He quickly kicked Qube out and saluted.
"SIR. This is a great honour sir!"
"I'm here to assure you that your country appreciates the brave sacrifice you and your crew have made to defend freedom"
"Sir, just doing my duty sir"
"I want you to know. That your families will be well provided for. We gonna rebuild their lives up even better than they were before, and I'm lookin forward to see'n that. I'm a better life rebuilder. And you will be remembered as the great heroes you are. We're gonna build a big ol monument out here on the Washington mall in yer honour. You've made the ultimate sacrifice. yer ultimate sacrificers"
"Sir, I have captured Qube and am about to secure the compound. We're coming home sir"

"Oh... uhh. I'm real happy to hear that. hehe...Yer country is real proud. But ya see... well, we can't have you guys comin home with a story about havin Huma- sexshul relations. That kinda story in the press would demoralize our troops, and give cumfort to the activist judges, and the Christmas haters, and the enemy. And we can't be no liberal enemy cumfort givers ya see?"

Walker's eyes narrowed trying to understand.

"And ya see, well ol Qube's just sittin on all that oil down there that only he knows how to get at, ya see. Now he's been real cooperative, and we think we can teach him to be a freedom lovin Christian, if we're just a little patient with his oil.. I mean with him.. and I need that oil.. I mean yer country needs that oil.. so .. er .. we can spread freedom throughout the world, and enjoy our freedom lovin way of life. Cause we're freedom spreaders ya see? Our traditional family values are at stake here and you have protected them. You're value protectors. You've made the ultimate sacrifice for yer country, and yer country thanks you.. and I thank you.. thank you"

The screens flickered back to scenes of Flint's first rape, and Walker stood, a Hellenistic statue shocked into smooth marble. He had been asked to sacrifice his crew, at the moment of victory, to a fate worse than death. To be raped by a perverted super villain, for a few gallons of oil. Walker was the ultimate soldier. The best. Perfectly developed, and trained. He accepted orders without question, and followed through to the letter at any cost. Like a finely tuned machine, he completed each task without error. Now that machine had received an order that did not compute. He could not react. He could not turn left or right. He had no logical orders to follow. Without orders he was paralyzed. He could not move. WHAAMM The staggering blow nailing the back of his head that knocked him into next week, was almost superfluous. Whether it was the betrayal or the black jack that stunned the cocky stallion unconscious, neither Walker nor Qube would ever know. The big screens surrounding the chamber recorded and reflected the moment. Magnified for posterity, and displayed at every angle. Already passed out, the beautiful expressionless face, and classic body remained stock still for what seemed an age... and the he fell. He did not crumble. Still the abandoned classical sculpture, he slowly tipped forward and, picking up speed, toppled. A face plant into the paving stones. It would have been painful, but he had felt nothing since his presidential audience.

Qube dropped the blackjack and looked down at the vanquished hero. Only moments before he had been in complete control, an all conquering god, now lying destroyed at his tiny feet. He spoke , gazing at the big pert naked butt curving defenseless toward the domed ceiling.

"Tsk.. was that a little too rough stud?"

Frogmen appeared from the shadows.

"I want him face down on the conference table"

A massive stone table flanked by granite benches had risen from the floor in front of the throne and foot rest. The primordial ooze puddled in the center, forming a small mucous like mound, rivulets dripping over the sides

The creatures surrounded the defeated commander, he oversized paws which had pummeled him with such severity, flopped uselessly as the henchmen wrangled with their heavy burden, and finally,with some effort managed to get the heavy pile of naked muscle and limp dangling limbs, over the scaly shoulder of of one lucky comrade. this time there was no game of possum. Walker was out, and completely at their mercy.

As he had done with Flint before, he first brought the upraised ass to Qube for inspection. Qube wiped the blood from his broken nose and spit out one more tooth. He laid one hand on the cold granite sphere.

"You exceed my dreams, and have earned every torture I will inflict upon this perfection."

He nodded to the creature, who dutifully dumped the slumbering hunk onto the table, like an animal to be butchered.

The frogmen arranged the unresisting limbs wide toward each corner of the table, and positioned his hips over the center of the primordial mound which formed snugly around his eternally turgid cock, arching the perfect ass up above the tapering back.

They stood back as Qube approached his conquest from behind. he knelt on the stone table between the spread legs. He ran his hands along the broad shoulders, like a massuese, working his way down, admiring the shape of the wide delts. He spoke to his sleeping victim.
"I especially love these little dimples that parrallel the lower spine, just here, past the delicious small of your back, right before the gluteal curve widens from the narrow waist. I have seen them many times on shirtless men..laborers, or playing basketball, as the baggy shorts slide past thin hips. Irresistible. He leaned down to kiss the dimples, and onto the cool hard muscles of the ass.
"As I promised my beauty, unwilling submission" He began kissing, liking and biting until the firm boulders of Walker's massive buttocks were coated entirely in the fiend's saliva. Qube dug his long talons in, taking full possession of each muscled ham, pulling them apart to admire the defenseless pink hole. Painted fingernails pricking into the naked, unblemished skin. He stared awestruck at the moment of victory. He sighed, and licked from the base of the balls, in one long stroke past the perenium, and over the small, quivering opening. He pulled the huge glutes even further apart and plunged in with his long searching tongue.

Walker heaved a low unconscious moan, his voice composed only of breath, and pushed his dick imperceptibly into the strangling ooze. Qube settled in, he would be at this for quite a while.

Walker dreamt he was swimming in a dark, boiling sea when a giant wave slammed him onto the sea floor ramming his cock into a raised sand bar, which sent warm ticklish shock-waves charging through his trembling belly. Before he could extricate himself a bright green eel wormed it's way into his asshole nibbling at the pebbled interior flesh, darting it's little snake tongue at his prostate. He was drowning. He moaned softly into the black water and squirmed away from the sea floor. he swam toward the surface, toward consciousness. But the little eel lodged stubbornly in his hole, it's tongue grew larger licking up and down the entire crack and diving greedily back into his very center. The aquatic creature seemed to grow long busy hands which played along his body, worried at his sore tits, and returned to knead, and manipulate his butt cheeks. He reached the surface and remembered. He woke to Qube nibbling away at the soft blonde hairs that surrounded his asshole with the few teeth that Walker had not knocked out of his wrinkly lipless mouth. His head throbbed from the blow. His eyes fluttered half open to survey the room, which was now lighted and had resumed it's busy debauched activity. His crew was once again subject to myriad tortures, and sodomy in various stages of consciousness.

Seated on either side of him was a rogues gallery of leering international terrorists. the same way they had sat around the table to devour poor Wil.

How long had he been out? How long had that sick freak been eating out his asshole? The raw, chapped feeling in his crack indicated hours.

He seemed to be stretched out wide, like a butterfly pinned into a display case, on some sort of stone slab. His wrist and ankles restrained at each corner by more of that white shit.

His painfully engorged dick was wedged into a mound of that same gelatinous muck which had formed a pulsing strangle hold around the shaft. The stuff was moving tightly around his tool like a cobra, and was raising his ass up to allow easy degrading entry for Qube's probing tongue which plummeted back deep inside his bowels. Qube inhaled deeply which created a sort of vacuum in his chute, and the bristly hairs of the super-villain's goatee sent a seismic ridge of goose bumps from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. He looked directly forward and locked eyes with an awakened Jason Flint, still in his footrest position. His body rocking in time with the frogman dick slamming into his presented asshole. They shared a moment of infinite sorrow, and Mitch realized that he was moaning like a cat in heat. He stopped, and so did the mastication in his hole. Alerted by Mitch's silence he pulled out of the fleshy cave, but still held the entrance open and exposed to the cool air.
"Good morning Commander, I trust you are feeling rested. I am anxious to continue last evening's...discussion." He gave the helpless crack another lick.
"Unnghh My asshole...you sick fag.. what're you doing to my asshole?"

Qube manipulated both handfuls of Walker's ass, and toyed with the exposed balls.

"Oh, I'm making it very.." lick
"very" lick
"..wet..."

Qube took a mouthful of dangling ball.Walker suppressed a moan. Qube left his feast to crawl over the prone body of his vanquished foe, and take an earlobe in his mouth. He blew, then whispered into the aural canal.

"You see I had to pay out so much in oil to have you that I have none left to spare for lubricant" he giggled , tickling the hairs inside Walker's ear.
"I'm afraid we'll have to make do with spit"

He yanked Walker's square jaw backward, and shoved his tongue past the ripe inviting lips. The same tongue that had, moments before, been wedged up his asshole. Walker gagged and tried to bite it away. his head was slammed into the stone in response. The foul breath hissed in his ear
"That's right, keep fighting me. It makes it all the sweeter"

Walker could feel Qube's gigantic piece lying, heavy and hard, along his back. terror griped at his throat, and he tested at his bonds. His muscles rippled invitingly, and the ooze tightened it's grip on his meat. Otherwise there was no effect. This was not how he could escape.

He shivered as Qube's goatee scraped the bak of his thick neck He scanned the room. Gianelli had replaced Ritter as today's chandelier. Marques, Gregory, Carr, Vardanian, and Rath were receiving the blue enemas, he was certain they were some how drugged. Many others were being flogged. He noticed gym equipment set up in the far end of the chamber. Gregory, Cruz, Donavan, and Trask, manipulated like puppets in strings of goo were being forced to work out. Their muscles pumping to enormity. A frogman grabbed Gregory's hips during a squat and entered him from behind. He rode him to the end of the motion, a lewd spot. No matter what that posturing, chimp faced, White House fuck had said. It was his responsibility to free his men. He had to take control of the situation. His head shot up and he felt Qube's fat dick press against his splayed and quivering hole. This was happening. This was happening to him. He frantically tried to reason with the madman.

"Qube LISTEN TO ME!! You won't get away with his forever. They will come for us eventually" The massive head poked into the tiny entrance. Walker clenched tightly. He couldn't let this happen.

"No! Wait! Listen to me! I can make it go easier on you... ugnnh.. just.. let Flint go!!"

Qube went on whispering deep within the earlobe. He remembered, this was exactly how they tamed wild horses back in Nebraska

"SSSSSSHHHHH!!!! Shhsssshhhh!!! I know, I know. It's all right now. It's over" Qube's dainty fingers gently stroked his soft blonde hair.

"Just relax, it's allright" The fingers stroked his trembling shoulder's, his ribs. The enormous rod continued inching in, centimeter, by centimeter, and banged against the tightly shut ring of muscle. NO this couldn't be happening. Not to him. He was Commander Mitch Walker, consumate fighter and leader of men, about to be ass raped by an arch terrorist. No this couldn't happen, not him. More pairs of hands joined the lullaby of touch on either side.

"NO, QUBE, LISTEN TO ME!!!"

The tremendous rod pushed against the desperately shut barrier. Walker thought he would split in two. His body could not accomdate an object of this size.

Sooo lusciously tight, and he was fighting him with every ounce of strength. Qube wondered if he could enter without permanent damage. Qube wondered if he cared.

"NO!! WAIT!!!LISTEN TO ME!!!"

"SShhhhhh..." The hypnotic stroking continued, lulling his frantically struggling body. He fought against the urge to relax. The pain was incredible

"Shhhhhhh.." The reamaining teeth bit into his earlobe. "I know, I know, my beauty ... it's all right.. it's over now.." Qube repeated the mesmerizing mantra over and over stroking his hair his, his skin.

"WAIT!!! JUST LISTEN TO MEEEEAAGG.............!!!

The world lurched on it's axis and the relentless ramrod finally breached the tight band. Qube's deformity slipped all the way in past the convulsing man band, his bony hips slamming into the granite buttocks. Commander Mitch Walker tried to scream, but was no longer capable of producing sound. His entire self was focused on the white blinding pain shooting from his toes, and up the inside of his tree trunk legs splitting into his entire center. He thrashed, wildly, like a hooked fish on the deck of a trawler, to pull himself off of the cruel invasion, but he was bound, and pinned into stillness.

Qube was also stilled. Enjoying the play of panicked muscles struggle in accommodate his oversized rod, constricting deliciously, like velvet, around his shaft.

He looked down at the fallen giant impaled on his dick. This titan had bested him, nearly killed him as no other could have done. He stared down lovingly at the vast expanse of Walker's heaving, sweaty back and began to thrust.

Helpless.

The word pounded into Walker's brain with every thrust. This was happening... to him.

Qube reached forward to cover his mighty, outsized paws with his delicate talons, entwining painted fingernail with thick knuckle and clutched for better leverage.

Helpless.

Every hour of his life up to this moment had been spent in Spartan self denial, training, learning, and sculpting his body into absolute chiseled perfection all ultimately for the pleasure of the unworthy parasite brutally thrusting his insatiable hunger in between his marbled glutes, spearing deep into his very core.

He knew there was an endless line of cocks waiting for their turn to enter his aching chute.

Helpless.

Qube had picked up to a steady, but still careful pace, this was too nice to rush, and the searing pain turned into something.. unnameable.

Helpless.

It had cost him but he had one every contest, every fight with only sheer steal resolve. he had never before felt taken, completely used. A fallen idol now a toy for a demented child.

Qube's shattered fangs bit sharply into his massive granite shoulder, and he began to fuck his defeated stud with vindictive frenzy.

Helpless.

His dick which had been bursting with unsated need for hours, maybe days, throbbed painfully. Something felt hideously natural. Every part of him, taken, used, and yet worshipped like a god. To be finally consumed by the voracious hunger of a lesser supplicant.

Helpless.

The relentless thrusting slammed his dick into the strangling ooze, which had latched little suckers onto his tits. His head pounded on the stone in time, hands stroked , pawed and pinched his naked flesh from every angle. He was drowning, suffocating in a sea of unwholesome adulation, a god devoured by his acolytes.

Helpless.

The word was a searing fever in his brain. kindling to the knotted log ramming into his asshole.White heat caught fire somewhere in is prostate , exploding in his belly, and down through his groin, boiling into his swollen bladder to engulf his tender nuts. Qube sensed his imminent victory. He grabbed had handful of the short blond hair to pull the handsome head back and cover the rugged mouth with a wet cloth. Mitch was forced to breath in a sweet sticky substance that made his heart pound in his ears, and his mind sail above the room The stud arched his ass toward the attack in unwilling supplication, and Qube slot fucked all his avarice, and rage into the ruined hole

Helpless.

Walker finally found his primal voice, howling as his cock pulsed ropes of his life force, feeding it into the suffocating ooze.

Qube dropped the heavy head roughly on to the slab and Commander Mitch Walker lay still, defeated raped and betrayed to the arch villain whose dick still claimed greedy ownership of his perfect ass

Commander Mitch Walker's mind flew around the room, and he lost the sense of time. He saw himself, hanging like Gianelli and Ritter upside down from the ceiling, a hose stuffed deep in his hole, filling his belly to bursting. He was in the corner forced to work out resisting the bands of ooze. There he was being milked dry., by the same frogman who had just given his big ass a bloody thrashing. He caught sight of his broad shoulders covered in welts. yes, he could still feel the sting of the lash He saw himself in Flint's place with Qube's dainty heels resting pointedly on his granite butt.

No, Qube was still fucking him, when would he finally cum? He needed to concentrate. He could still somehow save his men. No, it wasn't Qube, a scaly arm encircled his throat to choke him out while slamming into his hole. No had he imagined that? It was still Qube. Was this still the first time? Or the hundred? Could he remember a time when some hungry dick wasn't ramming into his full hard helpless ass? Slack jawed he focused past the thick glass barrier to the sea beyond. His eyes followed a school of striped bass upward. He thought he saw a glint of.. what? metal.. Was it a submarine slowly gliding through he murky currents? Was it his sub? A pinging guided it's blind hull through this dark water. A diver emerged, his sleek muscles encased in the snug wet suit, as he kicked his way past billowing brian coral, though a graceful, yet predatory world were creatures exsited only to consume, and to be consumed. Everywhere around him, he could hear the crackling sound of their eternal eating.

No.

It is not silent in the deep.

The End

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