Gay Erotic Stories

This is a work in progress, I hope you like it so far. Please feel free to contact the author at sha@asia.com This story contains material depicting sexual activity between adult males. If that offends you, or if you are too young to read such material please stop now. CHINESE P.O.W. (Part 4) V. Sergeant Bo remained sitting behind the Captain’s desk as he lit another cigarette. While he took his first few puffs, he considered me intently. “You look younger than eighteen”, he said at last. “I am eighteen .... sir”, I replied trying hard not to look directly at him and to sound respectful. “Well you are - or were - an officer. I suppose you really couldn’t be any younger than you claim. You do look young, though. I’d guess your age at sixteen. In any event, you’ll certainly be popular with several of our regular patrons who prefer their boys to be young and pretty”. Sergeant Bo continued scrutinising me pensively, but remained silent for another minute or so. Then, suddenly, reaching under the desk, he produced a camera, pointed it at me, and took my picture. The flash blinded me for a moment, and I was left blinking and dazed until my sight returned. “You may stand easy for now”, he said he made a sweeping gesture in my direction with his hand. I felt relieved to be able to lower my arms and stand a bit more naturally - though being completely naked in front of this menacing stranger seemed far from natural. So, I covered my genitals with my hands. Finally rising to his feet, he rubbed his chin as though considering a riddle and looked at the wall. Speaking aloud, but as though to himself, he said “Captain Bartek requires your presence tonight. That probably means he wants to fuck you.” At this, I felt as though I’d been slapped on the face, and I must have blushed a deep red. I also felt my rectum involuntarily tighten. Turning to me he continued, “But the difficulty is you are not yet actually part of the SRU. So the question is, do I take you to him as if you were a comfort boy or do you get some clothes? The Captain is fastidious about these things, but I’m not sure about this situation. I think the right thing is to dress you. That way Captain Bartek can decide once I hand you over”. Sergeant Bo walked over to a large cupboard next to the door leading to the shower room. He removed a package and tossed it at me. Reflexively I caught it. “Put these on”, he ordered. “This will be your uniform when, occasionally, you are allowed to wear something”. Wrapped in brown string was a bundle of black cotton. After untying the string I saw what looked like a pair of black pyjamas. The short-sleeved shirt had no buttons, and I quickly pulled it over my head. Once I had pulled on the short pants I needed to tie them with a white cotton cord threaded through the waist. The pants had a slit in the front, like pyjamas, which I adjusted to hide my boyhood. The attire wasn’t much; it was light, very baggy, and there were no underwear or shoes. But it was clean and I instantly felt much less exposed. I also felt a bit braver, and I recalled Sergeant Bo’s earlier observation that naked men are easier to control and less likely to attempt escape. Looking back, I sometimes wonder at how and why I remember such small details. This initial encounter with the SRU in that wooden hut all those years ago now seems simultaneously intensely real and vaguely dream-like. I guess I sensed that every word, every action, and every gesture was decisively shaping the rest of my life; indeed, they could determine whether I would live at all. Each small detail of those first few hours was seared into my memory, like a smoking brand into the flesh of an ox. I had dropped the long piece of string which had tied the black uniform. Sergeant Bo ordered me to pick it up and to hand it to him. He took the string, went back to the desk, produced a pair of handcuffs from a drawer, and cuffed my hands behind my back. Then he swiftly reached into the slit of my pants, pulled it open and yanked out my cock and balls. He roughly tied one end of the string tightly around the base of my balls and took the other end in his hand. “If you drop something you will always pick it up”, he said. “Do you think we are to do these things? I’ll now take you to Captain Bartek’s quarters. If you don’t keep up, your balls will be very sore by the time we get there. And I’m pretty sure you’ll need them both for the Captain tonight”. Leading me by the string leash wrapped around my balls, Sergeant Bo left the hut and stepped out into the warm night. VI. I struggled to keep up with him, but every few paces my balls would receive a violent and painful tug. After a couple of minutes, and in spite of my gait being impeded by an inability to swing my arms, I got the measure of Sergeant Bo’s stride and was able to keep in step behind him. This greatly reduced the pain inflicted by the string noose around my balls. We walked across what, in the dark, appeared to be a large grassy square, and then down a gravel path which hurt my feet. After we had walked for about three minutes past a line of wooden huts, Sergeant Bo stopped outside a larger one and untied my balls before shoving my cock and painful balls back into my pants and adjusting the slit to cover me up. He knocked on the door of the hut, and a voice I recognised as the Captain’s replied “Enter!” Grabbing me by the back of the neck, Sergeant Bo steered me roughly into a brightly lit room in which the Captain was seated at a small table with two other men. They were playing cards. The smell of cigarette smoke and liquor hung rancidly over the table. Cigarette ash empty bottles of Russian vodka littered the floor, while the table was adorned with overflowing ashtrays and small glass tumblers. After my eyes adjusted to the bright light I could see that the two men were, like Captain Bartek, gwei-los - white Europeans. They wore uniforms which I didn’t recognise, but impressive flashes on their shoulders indicated that they were officers of some sort. One of them was about forty, balding and quite stocky. The other, clearly younger, was probably in his mid-twenties (although it’s always hard to guess a gwei-lo’s age). He was as tall as Captain Bartek with wavey brown hair and very fair skin. “Ah, Comrade-Sergeant Bo ....”, Captain Bartek’s speech was slightly slurred and his foreign accent had become much thicker. “I see you’ve brought the entertainment”. His older companion sniggered loudly. “Yes Comrade-Captain”, replied Sergeant Bo, standing to attention. “The other prisoners are being secured by Corporal Yang”. Speaking to me, Sergeant Bo yelled, “Stand to attention in front of the officers!” I snapped to attention, but felt an uncomfortable tenderness in my balls. Strangely, the pain was accompanied by a growing erection. I hoped it wouldn’t be noticed through my baggy black pants. Sergeant Bo take three large steps over to the table and handed Captain Bartek the key to my handcuffs. “Well done, well done. You may go, Segeant Bo”. Sergeant Bo saluted and marched crisply out of the hut, closing the door behind him. The three seated card players assessed me through a slightly drunken haze. The older one pointed at me and said something to Captain Bartek in a language that sounded possibly Russian. The Captain replied in the same language with a mock-sly tone, and the three of them roared with laughter. Looking at me Captain Bartek said, “My friends speak only a little Chinese. As none of us are paid anything worth gambling, I have agreed to bet you on the next hand. If I win, I get half a crate of the finest vodka. If I lose, the winner gets to do whatever he likes with you tonight. Are you worth six bottles of vodka, boy?” “Yes .... sir ..... master .....”, I stammered out, looking at the floor. “If I lose, you’d better be. I don’t like to cheat on friends”. The younger gwei-lo dealt a hand, and after two or three minutes, the three of them again roared laughing. The older one and Captain Bartek pointed at the younger gwei-lo and shouted happily in their language. “Lieutenant Solokov has won you, officer-boy”, Captain Bartek said. “You’re his for tonight, or until he falls over drunk”. The older gwei-lo laughed again, but Solokov who had ‘won’ me, seemed not to understand. Solokov spoke to me in his language, and Captain Bartek translated, “Comrade-Lieutenant Solokov wants to know if it’s true what I told him earlier - that you enjoyed our little encounter this evening at the reception hut”. “Yes master”, I said. Solokov seemed to understand this much Chinese. “I’ve also told him that you have not yet agreed to join the SRU. He wants to know if you’ve made up your mind”. I found myself saying “Yes master, I wish to be part of the SRU”. In spite of the pain in my balls, or perhaps because of it, I felt my cock continue to stiffen inside my black pants. I knew I had taken a huge step, but something deep inside me felt incredibly calm and content. “I knew it - I can spot them” said Captain Bartek triumphantly, who then appeared to translate my reply for his two companions. Solokov broke into a broad smile, revealing a set of startlingly white teeth. “You understand what you have chosen?”, Captain Bartek asked. “Yes master”, I replied in a calm level voice. At this point my fully erect cock appeared through the slit in the front of my pants, and the older gwei-lo almost fell of his chair in uncontrolled drunken laughter. The laughter was infectious. The sudden appearance of my cock right at the moment of my consent to join the SRU, combined no doubt with the lubricant of vodka, resulted in all three once again falling about the table in gales of laughter. My hands firmly secured behind my back, I spent a few moments trying to squirm my hips so as to bring my erect cock back inside my pants - but to no avail. As soon as the three gwei-los had managed to compose themselves, Solokov gestured for me to approach him. I walked over to stand right next to him. “Don’t look at a patron unless you are invited to!” snapped Captain Bartek. I looked away at the floor. Solokov tugged at the knot holding up my pants, and they fell to the floor. He tapped my legs indicating that I should stand with my feet apart. I stood there naked from the waist down as my erection jutted out at a steep angle. Captain Bartek dealt another round of cards, and the three of them continued playing while Solokov fondled my cock and balls with his left hand, holding cards in his right. Occasionally, his hand would would reach between my legs and probe my arse. Several times he attempted to push a finger inside my arse, but my muscles automatically tightened and denied him entry. Fortunately, Solokov did not attempt to force his finger inside me. This went on for maybe twenty minutes as the three companions played several rounds of their game, chatting among themselves in their faintly ugly language. The smoking and drinking continued. I grew increasingly excited by Solokov’s fondlings and masturbation of my cock, and eventually I could feel myself beginning to cum. As I groaned loudly, all three stopped their game to watch me as I shot three or four long streams of creamy white cum over Solokov’s arm, trousers and boots, and onto the floor and card table. Solokov let forth a long appreciative whistle and relinquished his sticky grip on my cock. The older gwei-lo emitted a contented ‘mmmmmm”. With a faint smile on his face, which hinted at approval, Captain Bartek said “Clean it all up boy”. I looked at him with apparent bewilderment. My hands were cuffed behind my back, and I didn’t know where or how to get a rag. Sensing my confusion he said “Lick it up with your tongue, boy”. I started by licking my cum off Solokov’s uniform and his hand, which he held out for me. I felt enormously embarrased by the orgasmic display I had just given the gwei-los, and now I was being humiliated in this most bizarre way - naked below the waist, still partly erect, hands cuffed behind my back, licking up my own cum in front of three obviously amused spectators. I had never tasted cum before, and it was strangely salty and tangy. After I’d cleaned up Solokov’s hand and clothes I proceeded to his boots. I had to get on my knees for this and bend forward awkwardly. While licking my white cream off his boot in this exposed position, Solokov took has chance to shove a finger into my arse-hole, and got it half way in. Startled, and with my hands cuffed behind me, I fell forward flat onto my face with my arse sticking up in the air. This produced yet more hilarious laughter from my audience. My face landed in the puddle of cum which had hit the floor, and as I managed to recover my kneeling position, it clung wetly to my right cheek and chin. Instantly, Solokov lifted me up by the armpits onto my feet and shoved my head at the cum which had landed on the card table. Bent over the table at the waist I licked at the three or four spots of cum which had fallen there. When I tried to stand again the older gwei-lo grabbed the back of my neck and held my head to the small table. On the edge of my vision I saw Solokov unbuckling his belt and lowering first his khaki trousers, and then his white boxer shorts to his knees. For a brief moment I caught glimpse of a sight which caused me almost as much dismay as the realisation that I was about to be fucked for the first time in my life. Solokov’s pubic hair was not black - it was a very light brown. Furthermore, his cock was considerably longer and pinker than anything I had seen on my own countrymen. Not only that, but his cock had no foreskin! For a brief moment, I even wondered whether Solokov was human at all. This alarming thought was cut short by the feeling of Solokov’s hands gripping my hips and the head of his large cock pressing against my arse-hole. Solokov shoved hard, and I felt as though I would be split open, but only his cock head penetrated my gateway. I cried loudly in pain as the muscles in my rectum tightened involuntarily. I heard Solokov speak in his language to the other two, and in a moment he withdrew his cock. Captain Bartek then applied something wet and slippery to my arse-hole with two fingers, and I glimpsed Solokov rubbing the same stuff over his cock. The older gwei-lo continued pinning my neck to the table with one hand. Solokov then resumed his fucking position behind me, and with two hard thrusts pushed his large cock all the way into me. I screamed in pain and began to sob, but Captain Bartek shoved my discarded black pants into my mouth. Solokov began a slow fucking motion while leaning on the top of my buttocks with his hands. Captain Bartek and the older gwei-lo continued speaking to Solokov in their language, and I had the impression they were directing or advising him. After about two or three minutes of Solokov’s gentle fucking I began to feel more relaxed. Sensing this, the older gwei-lo let go of my neck and I began to enjoy the sensations in my arse. I still felt uncomfortably split by Solokov’s slowly moving cock, but I also began to feel its warmth, its firmness and its width. It was an invader, but an exciting one. Then, as I grew more accustomed to it, I became aware of his balls delicately drumming against my buttocks with each gentle stoke of his cock. My balls, which had given up their seed twice already that evening, stirred once more and I could feel my cock stiffen in its uncomfortable confinement between my belly and the table top. At last, I surprised myself as I let out a low throaty moan of pleasure, and Captain Bartek removed the pants from my mouth. After a few more minutes, during which the older gwei-lo had opened his fly and begun masturbating himself while observing Solokov and me, Solokov’s pace quickened. His thrusting became energetic, and he leaned forward, grabbing my pecs. Then he started seriously bucking inside my and he called out something loudly in his language, his two companions shouting back encouragement to him. Within moments, and for the first time in my life, I felt my arse filling (or so it seemed) with the hot cum of another man. Then, in an instant, Solokov withdrew his cock from me and I suddenly felt much more comfortable - but also strangely empty. Captain Bartek removed my hancuffs and, placing a hand under my chest, raised me to a standing position. I could feel a small amount of Solokov’s cum trickling out of my arse and down the inside of my leg, and my cock was fully erect again. “Remove your shirt”, Captain Bartek ordered. He took the shirt from me tossed it over a chair. “Now go and clean up Lieutenant Solokov”. Now I got a good look at Solokov. He was more than six feet tall and had a really handsome face with light brown eyes and a strong chin. He stood in front of me with his pants around his knees and his bizarre sexual region on display. In addition to the oddities I had previously noticed, I could now see that his balls were larger and hairier than anything I had ever seen on a Chinese. I wondered if all the gwei-los looked like that with their pants off. I sensed what I had to do. Not having been given any cloths or towels, I knelt in front of Solokov and licked and sucked his cock, balls and pubic area until he was clean. Even limp, his cock must have been as long as most Chinese when erect. When I placed my hands on his buttocks to steady myself, I noticed also that Solokov’s arse was large by Chinese standards but very firm. Finally I ceased my licking, and Solokov raised his trousers and buckled up. He gestured for me to stand. As I rose, my knees wobbled beneath me and I suddenly felt totally exhausted and a little nauseous. It must have been about three in the morning by this time, which meant it had been about nine hours since I was ‘rescued’ from the battlefield, about 15 hours since I had eaten, and about 21 hours since I had slept. During that intense time I had been through some of the most terrifying, stressful and exciting experiences of my whole life. Also, to my dismay, I had discovered a central truth about myself which had previously been hidden. All together, it was far too much for me. I fell forward towards Solokov and passed out. TO BE CONTINUED