Private Foster's Discharge
By: HardPuc
"I want out of the army, Sarge."
Sarge's stomach growled in answer. The air hung heavy between them. Sergeant Link, a hulking mass of military muscle, sat at his desk contemplating the young man who stood before him.
Private Foster, a usually cocky young stud, stood at attention with his eyes held forward. He knew he was in big trouble and all he hoped now was that whatever punishment he was to receive would be over quick.
Sergeant Link rose from behind his desk and Foster shuddered. "God, this fucker is monstrous," he thought, "I'm so fucking fucked."
The muscle man's uniform barely contained him. The buttons of his shirt seemed ready to pop. He had massive shoulders wide enough to support his thick neck and a face like a bull dog, mean and not terribly attractive.
"Private, you are a disgrace to this unit," Sergeant Link spoke, his voice low and deliberate.
"Yes, Sir," the Private said.
The sergeant walked slow circles around Foster, sizing him up like a shark.
"You don't deserve to wear that uniform," Sergeant Link growled roughly.
"No, Sir."
The Sergeant stopped in front of Foster, blocking out the world like a wall. The Private gulped. To be so close to this mountainous man made him nervous. He felt small. But there Sergeant Link stood with his tree trunk legs in a wide stance, meaty paws clutched at his waist, the wide V of his back and that mean face. His steel blue eyes bore into him.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Link asked.
"Sir?"
Serge's square jaw dropped in Foster's face, (all he could see was the interior of a gaping mouth...even that thing that hangs in the back) as the hulk bellowed, "GET YOUR ASS OUT OF THAT UNIFORM!!!"
"Yes, sir," Foster sputtered quickly. Moving as fast as he could, he pulled at his T-shirt while fumbling for his belt. His pants drooped down to reveal a youthful curve of ass as he bent over to unlace his boots. Smooth lean muscle traced along his tanned frame.
The Sergeant licked his lips.
"What makes a maggot like you think he can make it in the US Army? Why I eat guys like you for breakfast!"
Foster said nothing. He stood almost naked, save for a pair of tighty whities, and flinched when the sergeant roared, "Take off those fairy panties, son! You’re standing in front of a man."
The Private yanked them down quick and resumed his stance, trying not to quake.
"I know your type, son. You got a humpy little body there. 'Bet you played all the sports, probably star quarter back in high school. Causing all sorts of trouble when your tight little ass wasn’t bouncing atop some blond bimbo cheerleader."
Foster began to sweat, the Sarge had him pegged pretty good.
The young man cast his eyes down in shame. He didn't notice the sergeant begin to undress.
Link began to carefully loosen his uniform, starting with the top buttons of his shirt. As each button was undone, the thick carpeted muscles of his chest spilled out. He peeled the garment off and stood with his powerful torso exposed.
"You’re in this man's army, son," Sergeant Link said as he untightened his belt.
"What are your plans for me, Sarge? Court Marshall?" gulped Foster, still with his head held down.
He chuckled as he stepped up close to Private Foster, standing bare-chested to chest. Foster looked up shocked as Link said, "More like dinner plans, son."
Sarge's muscled body pushed up hard against Foster's sinewy, youthful own, dwarfing it. The big man threw his brawny arms around Foster, quickly pinning him, before pulling the young buck in close with a bear hug. Foster's face was buried in matted fur deep between the clefts of Link’s pectorals. The musky odor there was strong and filled his nostrils. All he could breathe was Link’s body funk. He felt what he thought was a long, hard pipe in Sarge's pants press up against his leg and then he yelped in protest.
Sarge's stomach rumbled an answer. Foster felt it more then heard it.
Foster, in panic, cried, "Stop, Sarge, please...I...I don't do guys."
Sarge smiled a wide grin and said, "Me neither. I eat 'em." And with that, a hot pink tongue, wet and juicy, slowly slapped across Foster's face. Again, the private was rocked by the vibrations of Sarge's hairy stomach. "OH My God," he thought, "I'm Being Tasted!!"
"Help!!!" Foster screamed, his drenched face dripping saliva. Sarge leaned in and kissed him hard on the mouth. Foster had never been kissed by a man and he found it repulsive. He squirmed and kicked out, struggling vainly, as Sarge's tongue invaded his mouth. Sarge’s grabbed the back of his head and pushed. The lips around the Private's face expanded. A wet heat pressed up tight against his cheeks, his eye lids, his chin and forehead! Sarge was kissing his entire face! He screamed as, impossibly, his whole head slid past Sarge's wet lips with a pop.
One of Foster's hands broke free and he began punching wildly at Sarge's face. Sarge's steely blue eyes followed it's progress and when the moment was right, when Foster threw his fist at Sarge's mouth with all his might, the big man pursed his lips and let the fist punch deep into his mouth before quickly tightening over it. He then grabbed hold of the youth's tricep and eased the rest of the young man's arm past the boy's own face and down Sarge's throat.
Somehow Foster found that he could breathe, barely. He was trapped inside this hot wettish prison with one arm clamped to his side and the other stretched out ahead. He tried to brace himself against the smooth, snug lining but he found no purchase, only a tight drop.
Sarge's tongue lapped at Foster's outstretched armpit as it slid past his lips. He savored the taste of the sinewy pit and hummed at the strong wiry youth's flavor. Foster could not help but thrash about as the massive tongue massaged/ticked/ tortured his pit. As he struggled, Sarge gulped and dragged an inch of his lean, tanned torso in deeper down his vice grip throat.
Sarge loosened his pants and freed his stiff cock. He squatted down to a chair, forcing the Private to sit on his muscled thighs and straddle the massive man. Sarge's meaty forearm snaked between Foster's legs. The thick finger found the small, pink hole. It pushed up into the tight opening, wiggled and withdrew. Again and again, Sarge steadily finger fucking him.
"Fucking liar," Foster seethed as hot tears squeezed out his eyes. But they only added more flavoring. He slowed his struggling and tried to think hard how he might escape. Maybe if acted like he was going along, maybe the Sarge would loosen his grip. He was lifted then and dropped on Sarge's impaling prick. He howled in pain as his asshole was invaded by a hot, throbbing shaft. He felt like he was being ripped in two. His weakening legs kicked out at empty air.
Sarge released his arm to grab at Foster's ass. He slapped it hard, rocking his hips and forcing the Private to ride him. Link buckled and pounded his prey's virgin asshole. With each thrust he pounded the boy deeper down his throat.
Foster punched Sarge's armored chest but the pain and the terror and... there was something else... began to weaken him. All he could do was grab at a handful of Sarge's chest hair and hang on.
Private Foster's head was slipping down Sergeant Link's throat. He was hanging upside down. Blood began to rush into the young man's head. He felt what might have been described once as pleasure but not now. He fought hard against this sensation, willing his body to not succumb, not to respond.
Sarge grabbed hold of the boy limp dick and gave it a long, firm squeeze. When he released it, the Private felt his genitals twitch to life. Blood began to fill and pump Foster's dick despite himself. Soon he was as hard as Sarge.
Foster hated himself for his body's betrayal. Still his thickening cock became swollen and ached to be stroked again. He let go of Sarge's chest hair and grabbed a hold his own stiff prick. He began pumping in beat to Sarge's pounding, all the while moving inch by inch deeper down the tight, wet trap. He had become meat. To be played with, fucked and eaten. He began to accept his fate. Foster soon gave over to passion.
The features of his upside down head bulged out the sides of Sarge's neck.
The Private's outstretched hand pushed through into his stomach, making Sarge's swallow hard dragging Foster's shoulder's and chest into the hot chamber that was Sarge's mouth. His rough tongue lapped at tender erect nipples, forcing waves of pleasure to rock and buck the boy’s humpy body. Foster was so far in, his arm again was pinned to his side, only this time by Sarge’s lips. The only thing to do was pump his meat faster. His asshole slid off Sarge's cock. Smooth hot walls encased his entire torso.
Link juiced three fat fingers and fucked the boy's hole till he slid past his lips, forcing the Private’s legs to jam together as his dimpled ass enter his throat. He felt the boy's hips grind into the warm fleshy bed of his tongue. His taste buds hummed to the flavor of precum that oozed out Foster’s cock slit.
Link grabbed hold of his prey's smooth calves and fed them into his mouth till only the boy's feet stuck out past his lips. Then, taking a finger to their soles, he tickled them, closing his eyes and taking pleasure as the boy thrashed about. He swallowed hard, sucking the pair of wiggling toes into his mouth.
Private Foster slithered down into the stomach chamber. His body was forced into a tight ball. His knees were up around his ears and he could almost suck his own dick. His frame outlined in fetal position easily traced the contours of Sergeant Link's belly.
The ingestion process started immediately. Stomach juices began to fill the chamber, the acids stinging his violated ass hole as the fluids seeped inside him. He grew lightheaded and woozy. The digestion fluids that were steadily going to work on his smooth, taut body reeked of poppers. The lack of oxygen to his head plus his burning hole only added to his pleasure. It made him beat his cock with more urgency. He ejaculated into his face with such force that he passed out as his well built, athletic body began to liquefy to a pure protein base.
Sarge belched and came. Hot come shot out his swollen tool, spilling across his chest and swelling gut. He rubbed the man juice into his hairy, swollen abdomen and chuckled.
"There, boy, consider yourself discharged."
--END--