The New Soldiers
By: Sean

Col. Smith leaned back in his desk chair. It was becoming almost impossible to concentrate. He was usually a hard-working man, but the late afternoon was never the most productive time of the day. But more importantly, Col. Smith had a special reason for not being able to keep his thoughts on his work just now.

The officer turned his head and looked at the window. It was getting dark enough outside on this February afternoon that he could see his own reflection in the glass. Col. Smith had reason to have some pride in his own appearance: he was an unusually tall, muscular, broad-chested man. He had a strong, handsome face with a solid jawline, and his blue-gray eyes were sharp and keen. His hair and moustache were neatly trimmed; his hair was black but shot somewhat with handsome gray; He was in his forties, and his age had given him an even greater bearing of strength and authority. He looked like the perfection of manliness; and this seeming perfection was no accident, because his DNA had been designed according to plan, as Col. Smith himself well knew.

Col. Smith was alone in his office, and he slowly rubbed his abdomen thru his khaki uniform. He swallowed. The feeling was getting too strong to ignore. Just this morning, Col. Smith had caught himself looking at one of his junior assistants with thoughts that an officer ought not have toward those in his responsibility, not even if the officer was one of the specially designed New Soldiers. The younger man had looked back and noticed Col. Smith's eyes on him; nothing was said, but it was not a secret that Col. Smith was a New Soldier, and the assistant probably guessed what Col. Smith was thinking. This would not do. There just wasn't any putting it off any longer: it was time for an appointment.

"Computer," he said, leaning back forward to his desk. "Dial me the Hero's Reward."

"Do you want the same branch location as the last time?" asked the computer.

"Yeah, the same one," said Col. Smith.

"Just a moment," said the computer. Col. Smith heard the purring sound of the other phone ringing once, twice.

There was a click as someone answered the phone. "Hero's Reward! Kyle speaking. How many I help you?"

"Hello, I'd like to make a reservation," said Col. Smith.

"Yes, sir. Have you been with us before?"

"Yes, several times. This is Col. James Smith."

There was the sound of Kyle typing at a keyboard. "Yes, sir. I see that you were here last in October?"

"Right."

"You haven't been anywhere else since then?"

"No, I haven't" said Col. Smith.

"Ah-- I see, sir. You must need to come in pretty badly, then?"

"Well, I haven't gotten to the point that I'm worried about being a danger to anyone who isn't willing to help me out, if that's what you mean. I'm 46 years old, so, you know, I don't get the hunger quite as often as I used to. But I'd better not put it off much longer."

"I understand, sir. Let's see." There was the sound of typing again. "We're pretty busy tonight, unfortunately. Can you hold off until tomorrow?"

"Yeah, it hasn't gotten that bad yet."

"All right," said Kyle. "How does 7:00 sound?"

"Sounds great," said Col. Smith. He was privately disappointed that they couldn't work him in tonight. But he understood. There might be others whose situation had gotten more urgent. When one of the New Soldiers got the hunger, he knew he had better take care of it; it could be bad news if he waited until he had gotten to the point where he couldn't control himself.

"All right. I've got you, Col. James Smith, down for nineteen-hundred hours, Thursday, February 19th, 2082. We'll look forward to seeing you tomorrow, sir."

"See you then," said Col. Smith. He hung up the phone.

-------------------------------

Altho Col. Smith took no notice of it, the date of his appointment happened to be exactly sixty years to the day since the geneticists Lloyd and Thompson had assembled the DNA for the first of the New Soldiers. The prototype DNA was incubated, and the result was a man who was given the name Adam Soldat, the first of Col. Smith's kind. Soldat was the first human who was able to swallow another human being whole. February 19, 2022: that was the day that changed everything.

In less than a decade, the Army was funding the wide-scale raising of New Soldiers. Not only were the New Soldiers particularly fierce and capable fighters, but their special way of subduing an enemy filled others with such dread that many fled rather than fought. Often there was no need to go to war, because the fear of what the New Soldiers could do to you was so great and basic.

Col. Smith himself had been incubated in 2036, and he was first deployed in 2054 when he was a tough, bullish young man of 18 years, during the major uprisings in the Pacific. He had been a solid, sturdy fighter, and it was a point of pride for him that he had served his country well. He had subdued many dozens of enemies during his tours of duty. He now remembered those days fondly.

When the war was over, many of the New Soldiers had been discharged from the army and had been left on their own to find jobs in the civilian sector. It seemed absurd in hindsight that nobody had anticipated the problems. A man who was genetically designed to swallow people could not just decide to stop doing it. When he had the hunger, he could not just ignore it. A man needed what a man needed.

There had been problems. Bad ones. As the number of unexplained missing men continued to rise, some people began to have their concerns. Soon some shocking cases came to public attention. Seventeen disappearances over a period of months were finally traced to one former New Solder who was working as a cab driver; even one young police detective who had been working on the case had himself ended up missing before the case was solved. Then there was another New Soldier who had gotten a job as a high school gym teacher; a couple dozen male students had disappeared before anyone realized where they had all ended up.

There was huge controversy over what to do. Some felt that the New Soldiers should be locked up; they were just too great a threat to the public. Others pointed out fairly that some New Soldiers had successfully controlled their ravenous urges, and it was not right to punish them for the wrongs of their brothers. The New Soldiers had served their country with greater effectiveness than most soldiers, they argued, and it would be wrong and unpatriotic to thank them for winning the war in the Pacific by taking away their freedom.

The answer had come from a man named Leonard Prince, who was a former New Soldier himself who had been discharged and had then gone on to get a PhD in human genetics. There used to be newsgroups for guys who were turned on by the idea of being swallowed, and Dr. Prince had been lucky enough to collect several DNA samples from the newsgroup members, just before the supply of newsgroup members disappeared altogether not long after the New Soldiers came home at the end of the war in the Pacific. The samples were enough to work out which combination of the genes were the crucial ones. Prince had incubated yet another kind of new human: the Soldier's Helper. When a Soldier's Helper reached young adulthood, it was his natural and irresistible instinct to satisfy a New Soldier's hunger, by offering himself to be swallowed. TIME magazine had featured Dr. Prince's picture on the cover, above the words, "An Answer for the New Soldiers?" It did not escape the news commentators that Dr. Prince had a personal self-interest in this project.

Many people had voiced ethical concerns over the creation of the Soldier's Helpers. The general consensus, however, what that if a young man reached adulthood and gave his consent, nobody had the right to stand in his way of doing what he wanted to do. Something had to be done for the New Soldiers, anyway.

Col. Smith was late arriving at the Hero's Reward. He had had to stop to get hydrogen for his car, and traffic had been backed up on the highway again. The tall neon sign for the Hero's Reward glowed by the entry from the main road as Col. Smith pulled into the parking lot.

The air was clear and cold as the colonel climbed out of his car. The skyline of the distant downtown buildings made a pretty view, and the stars could be faintly seen above the glare of the city lights. Col. Smith locked his car and walked toward the windowless building; There were a few other cars parked in the lot, but nobody else was in sight. There was no sound but that of Col. Smith's shoes on the pavement, and the soft background of city traffic. Col. Smith's breath was visible in the air near his mouth.

The colonel pushed the door open and entered the warm lobby. There were plants and comfortable furniture around. An old song from the 2050's was playing softly on the sound system. Col. Smith smiled; that song had been popular when he had first been deployed in the Pacific.

"Good evening, sir!" said the young man at the counter. "How can I help you?"

"I'm Col. James Smith," said the colonel. "I have a reservation."

"Of course, sir," said the young man. "I'm Kyle; I spoke with you on the phone yesterday. Shall I show you right to your room?"

"Sure."

"Right this way." Kyle took a red vinyl-covered book from the counter and led the colonel down a hallway.

The two passed several closed doors. As they passed room 3, Col. Smith heard the telltale slurping and gulping sounds from inside the room. Some other New Soldier was getting some satisfaction, and some young Soldier's Helper was having his final destiny fulfilled. Neither Kyle nor Col. Smith showed any reaction to the sounds; both men knew well that this was what happened here.

At room 5, Kyle slid open the door, revealing a room with a soft couch, a couple comfortable chairs, a dark television, and some other items. "Right in here, sir," said Kyle. "Would you like something to drink while you're looking over the Helpers?"

"Yeah, how about a Suntory Dry?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be right back." Kyle handed the red vinyl book to the colonel, and departed, sliding the door closed and leaving the colonel alone in the room.

Col. Smith stretched, yawned, scratched his chest, and sat down on the sofa. He unbuttoned the top few buttons on his uniform shirt. Then he opened the book and started looking over the choices.

On each page was a photograph, a face shot of a young man. Beneath was his name, where he was from, how old he was, and a few sentences about exactly how he imagined satisfying a New Soldier.

A few pages were crossed with a "NO LONGER AVAILABLE" sticker. Col. Smith skipped over these. He had not been the first to arrive here and place his order tonight.

On one page, Col. Smith paused. He smiled. The young man looked exactly like the one Col. Smith had consumed at his last appointment back in October: this was obviously a clone brother. Some Soldiers' Helpers had many clone brothers. Col. Smith didn't know exactly how the Helpers were designed and incubated, but it probably wasn't considered to be worth the effort and expense to make each individual's DNA different, not if the young men being produced were all just going to end up inside the stomachs of hungry soldiers. "Hmm," said Col. Smith to himself, still grinning. It might turn this guy on to know that he had eaten one of his clone brothers last. But no; time for something else tonight. Col. Smith turned the page.

The next young man caught the colonel's eye. He had close-cropped dark hair and a masculine but also very cute face, turned up in a half-smile. Col. Smith read the words under the picture, starting with the name "Jason".

At that moment, the door slid open. Kyle brought in a glass of beer on a tray; tiny bubbles were rising inside the glass. "Here you are, sir," he said. "Have you made a decision, or should I give you some more time?"

"How about this one-- his name is, uh, Jason," said Col. Smith, pointing to the picture.

Kyle smiled. "I think he'll be a perfect match for you, sir. I've talked to him about what he's hoping for, and I think the two of you will get on perfectly."

"Okay. Send him on in," Col. Smith.

Kyle left and slid the door shut again, and Col. Smith lifted the cool beer glass and took a deep drink. He licked the foam off of his moustache.

Col. Smith relaxed for several minutes, enjoying his beer. Presently, there was a knock on the door. "C'mon in," called Col. Smith.

The door slid open, but this time it was not Kyle who came in; it was the young man in the picture who Col. Smith had ordered. The young man was obviously freshly showered and was nearly dressed in a white button-down shirt and black slacks.

"Hello, sir. I'm Jason," said the young man, sliding the door shut.

"Hi, Jason," said the colonel, extending his hand. "My name's Smith: Colonel James Smith," said the colonel.

Jason shook the colonel's hand warmly. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

"Have a seat," said the colonel. As the two sat, the colonel said, "Now, I want to make sure there's no confusion. You know I'm going to eat you, right?"

Jason chuckled. "I know. I guess you heard about what happened in Rosemont, with the guy who thought he was getting a job at some kind of escort agency or something?"

"Yeah," said the colonel, rolling his eyes at such stupidity. "I mean, how could that guy not realize what the place was?"

"Well, he got away, at least," said Jason. He fidgeted. "But I guess I'm not getting away, not this time."

"Nope, you're not," said the colonel, his handsome face making a slightly fierce grin for the first time. "You scared about it?"

"A little," admitted Jason. "But it's what I've always wanted."

"Yeah, it's in your nature," said the colonel. "How old were you when you knew?"

"I guess twelve or thirteen. I mean, I had played games about a monster swallowing me up since I was a little kid. But, I was probably thirteen when I really started having those fantasies in a big way. That's when I realized I must have be a Helper."

"Where did you live?"

"A big home for lots of kids who didn't have parents. Not all of the kids were Helpers. But they figured it was better for us Helpers not to have parents. I mean, if I had parents, they'd be freaking out right now, if they knew it was my night tonight. So I think it's better this way."

"Yeah," agreed the colonel. "What'd you do while you were growing up?"

"I went to school like the other kids. I mean, there wasn't much point in me getting a fancy education or anything; but I've been doing office work and stuff since I got old enough. I mean, I knew for sure what I wanted by the time I was 14 or so; but I had to be 18 before I could legally give my consent. I would have been here sooner, but the agency is real strict about checking your age. I sure was tempted to try to find a New Soldier on my own, but, you know, there's lots of nosy neighbors who'd call the cops if they knew their neighbor was a New Soldier, and they saw me go into his house with him and not come back out."

Yes, Col. Smith knew. He nodded. There were so many people who had to stick their noses in other people's business, just to keep a loyal soldier from getting his due.

"So, anyway, I've just been waiting," Jason said.

"You got any clone brothers?"

"Yeah, I think there's about 30 of us. We didn't all get incubated at the same time, so we're not all the same age. I've only met three or four of the others. They usually plan it so that clone brothers grow up in different cities on purpose, so we don't all have the same experience-- you know, all that stuff about letting us have a better sense of individuality and all."

"Yeah. But I guess you all end up in the same place," said the colonel. He meaningfully patted his belly. "Last time I was here, I ate this real cute blond guy-- and tonight, guess who was in the book of Helpers? One of his clone brothers. I thought about having second helpings, but decided on you instead."

"Lucky me," said Jason, but his slight smile was genuine and there was no trace of sarcasm. "That would have been pretty funny, tho. I hope you get one of my clone brothers." He thought about that. Then he asked, "How often do you come here?"

"'Bout three or four times a year. I don't get the need to swallow a guy as often as I used to. Geez, back when I was in my 20's, I needed to feed at least once a month, maybe more. It was awful rough; there was a real dry spell after the war was over but before any of you Helpers were old enough."

"I can imagine," said Jason. "Did you eat a lot of enemy guys during the war?"

"Oh, buddy," said the colonel, his eyes growing wide. He fondly rubbed his stomach at the memory. "I can't even count. Those were the days."

Jason shifted in his chair, obviously getting excited at the talk. "Wow," breathed Jason, thinking of all the men who had met their end in the stomach of the large, muscular man sitting right in front of him. There was a change in his breathing. The thought was obviously turning him on a great deal.

"A lot of weeks, I was swallowing up a guy every day," continued the colonel. He was not bragging, merely telling the truth. "We used to have contests in my camp, to see who was man enough to eat the most. I was in the lead a few times."

Jason got an odd look. "Can I ask you something? I mean, it's not like you need to worry about me telling anyone."

"Yeah, what is it?"

"During the war-- did you ever swallow any American soldiers?"

The colonel got a funny look. "Yeah," he admitted. "Two of 'em, at different times. They weren't New Soldiers, of course-- just ordinary ones. I know I shouldn't have, but I just couldn't help myself. I mean, the Army knew what was going on. They shouldn't have put New Soldiers and ordinary ones together if they wanted to keep it from happening. I mean, fuck, if I'm alone in the shower room with an ordinary soldier, what the hell did they think was going to happen? I had the guy halfway down my throat before I even realized what I was doing."

"Did you feel bad about it?"

"Not really. I mean, I could see they were scared as shit, and totally surprised that I'd do that to them. They sure did fight it. But, buddy, let me tell you: when you've got the hunger, there's just no arguing with it. I sure wasn't the only one that ever did that."

"What about after the war?"

The colonel was silent for a moment. "Those were tough days," he said. "They don't know what it's like. I'd be laying there in bed at night, and it was driving me crazy. I couldn't sleep; the only thought on my mind was how hungry I was, how bad I needed to eat a guy. Regular food just couldn't take the place."

"So you ate some guys back here in the states."

"A few. I mean, I wasn't like that gym teacher that ate half his class. I doubt he was even trying to fight the hunger; he probably just took that job in the first place to eat the guys, you know? I wasn't a total pig like that; I tried my best not to eat anyone who really didn't want it. But, one time I just couldn't take it, and I went out and found this homeless bum and ate him. Didn't taste that great, but he was better than nothing.

The colonel thought and continued. "Then another time, I was on the subway late at night, and there was this guy-- real cute young guy, like you-- and he and I were the only ones in the car. I kept looking down and trying to think of something else, but I couldn't help myself. I finally went over and grabbed him and ripped his clothes off and gulped him down right there in the subway. He was yellin' like crazy, but there wasn't anyone there to hear him. So I just swallowed him, and nobody ever found out."

"Wow," Jason breathed.

"Too bad he didn't want me to do it, or that would have been the time of his life." The colonel tilted up his beer glass and drained it. Then he sat and looked silently as Jason for a few moments. He scratched his belly. "Why don't you take that shirt off and let me have a look at you?"

Jason unbuttoned his sleeves and then the buttons down the front of his shirt. He slid the shirt off and put it on the chair. He stood in front of Col. Smith, turning around slowly and flexing his arm muscles, showing himself off for the man who was about to consume him. Jason was slim, like most young men of his age, but had some definition to his body. Jason's cute face turned back to look at the colonel, to see what he thought of him.

"You've been working out," remarked the colonel.

"Yeah," said Jason. "Figured I'd be a better meal that way."

"Hell, yeah," said the colonel. "I'm gonna really enjoy having you." There was a very hungry look on the colonel's face. "Now how about them pants."

Jason slipped off his shoes and then unbuttoned and unzipped his black pants. He slid them off together with his white underwear, and put both on the chair with his shirt. He stood naked in front of the colonel.

"Turn around," said the colonel, and Jason did so. "Nice legs, nice and meaty. You got a nice ass, kid." The colonel's mouth was watering; he had the hunger pretty bad, and seeing such an appetizing young guy in front of him was making him very eager to feed.

The colonel started getting out of his uniform. He took off his khaki shirt and then slid off his white t-shirt. He took off his polished black shoes and then stood to take off his khaki pants. Soon both males were naked and standing barefooted, facing each other.

Jason was slim but no slouch for an 18-year-old. He was smooth other than a trail of dark hair from his navel down to his pubic hair.

The colonel, on the other hand, loomed a whole head taller than Jason. Like all of the fierce New Soldiers, he was massive and muscular; he could have been a linebacker. There was hair on his arms, chest, abdomen, legs, and ass. All of his hair (his short-cropped head hair, his thick but neat moustache, and his chest hair) were shot with a little gray, but reaching his 40's had obviously not reduced the strength of this man. His skin and muscles glowed with health and strength. Even naked, he stood with a bearing of power and authority.

"Damn," muttered Jason.

"What's that, kid?" asked the colonel.

"You know, I only get to do this once. I always hoped it would be a really great man who ate me. No doubt about it, you're the greatest."

The colonel grinned at the compliment, showing his teeth. He patted Jason's shoulder. "Enjoy the trip, kiddo," he said.

Jason nodded. This was it. He was about to be swallowed.

Then Col. Smith looked straight at Jason, and silently thought the words: "ENEMY SOLDIER."

The New Soldier felt the hunger rush thru his body. He made himself think of Jason as an enemy who needed to be subdued, and his body began to respond. He thought the words again: "ENEMY! ENEMY SOLDIER."

The blood pounded in the New Soldier's temples, and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He felt the stirring in his stomach, the watering in his mouth, the rush of power in his muscles.

Jason saw the change in Col. Smith's expression. The handsome man's face became harder, his teeth were bared, his eyes were sharper and frightening. The colonel was shifting into his natural role as a born predator.

Then Col. Smith placed his heavy hands on Jason's shoulders, and Jason saw the sight that had struck such terror into so many who had faced this same New Soldier during the war, so many who were now long since digested and forgotten. Col. Smith started to slowly open his mouth, and there was a very faint clicking sound as his jaw unhinged. Jason saw the mouth under the thick moustache opening wider and wider.

Jason had a built-in desire to be swallowed, something which had been deliberately programmed into him; but for a moment, the drive for self-preservation flickered in him. He felt the thrill of terror in his stomach and tried to pull away from Col. Smith. But the larger man just wrapped his large arms firmly around Jason in a rough bear hug, and lunged forward and down, taking Jason's whole head into his mouth.

Jason felt his naked body hugged up against the warm, naked muscular form of the New Soldier. There was a still moment where the soldier simply held his prey still and breathed thru his nose, catching his breath. If there had been anybody else there to see the scene, he might have mistaken the two for lovers embracing. It would have taken a second glance to notice that the larger man had the younger man's head wholly inside his mouth, and that the embrace was not a romantic one.

Then Col. Smith swallowed, and pulled Jason's head down into his throat. The soldier stretched his mouth around the younger man's shoulders. The soldiers mind was full of aggressive thoughts of neutralizing an enemy, of proving his toughness over another male, of satisfying his own hunger. In his mind he was back in the war, back in the tropical forest, doing exactly what was the most natural to him as a warrior and predator.

Jason felt the greedy mouth taking in more and more of his naked body, feeling the fearsome strength of the soldier. The mouth was warm and wet and its gulping muscles were strong; and the large arms were secure around him. It was terrifying, and yet it was what he had always wanted. The endorphins were flooding Jason's brain, and he was filled with feelings of love and admiration for the man who was devouring him.

Col. Smith leaned over further, swallowing more of Jason. He was looking down the young man's back. Col. Smith's lips felt Jason's ribs under his skin and muscle. He could not see Jason's nipples, but he remembered how brown and nicely shaped they had looked as he felt them slide over his lower lip. Jason's chest tasted so good as it slid across the colonel's tongue, that great taste of a healthy young man that the colonel knew so well. What a pleasure to eat him.

Jason felt the welcoming warmness of the man's mouth take him in all the way down to his navel. The throat contracted smoothly around his head and upper torso again and again, pulling him inward with a strength that no enemy facing Col. Smith had ever successfully resisted. Jason had wondered often what this was actually going to feel like when it happened, and now he was finally getting to find out.

Col. Smith was now leaning over too far, so he put his hands under Jason's naked butt and hoisted him up. Col. Smith was very strong, and it was easy for him to pick up the weight of this full-grown young man. Jason's bare feet were lifted off the floor. The huge naked man sat down heavily on the sofa with Jason's male ass and legs hanging out of his mouth below his moustache. Jason's legs gave a few froglike kicks.

When Col. Smith consumed Jason's crotch and butt, he was not the least bit surprised that Jason's cock was fully stiff against his tongue. The attraction which a Soldier's Helper felt was mainly an erotic one. More than once, Col. Smith was pretty sure that had felt a just-swallowed Helper masturbating inside his stomach, which was something that his terrified struggling victims in the Pacific war had never done.

The New Soldier swallowed Jason's crotch and soft ass into his throat. Even tho Col. Smith's consciousness was mostly in the rush of aggressive feelings of a predator wrestling and subduing his prey, there was a little corner of his mind which always wanted to laugh at this point. Jason was an adult male, as Col. Smith was; and he had a cock, as Col. Smith did; and yet Jason's cock was so totally unimportant relative to Col. Smith's. Jason's cock was the seat of Jason's maleness and manliness, and yet it was going to be easily swallowed up with the rest of Jason, digested and absorbed into the body of a man whose masculinity was far superior to Jason's. By tomorrow, all of Jason would be digested and gone; but Col. Smith's cock would still be there, proudly hanging between the New Soldier's muscular, hairy legs.

Col. Smith now ate his way down Jason's muscular legs, the legs which would have carried Jason away if he had had the sense to run from this dangerous predator of a man. But Jason had wanted to be swallowed, and now the moderately developed musculature on his handsome legs was going to be nourishment for Col. Smith. The slightly kicking legs were immobilized as Col. Smith ate down to Jason's knees. This last part was always the easiest, since the calves were narrower than the upper legs; Jason's lower legs slid smoothly into Col. Smith's mouth.

Soon Jason's feet were the only part of him to remain outside the colonel's body. Col. Smith noticed how neatly Jason had trimmed his toenails; Jason had really put forth the effort to make himself a good meal for his swallower, and Col. Smith appreciated it, because he strongly believed in the same sort of professionalism himself. Col. Smith had enjoyed every man that he had ever swallowed, but this tasty young man was perfect.

Inside of Col. Smith's throat, Jason could feel the strong, capable hands on his bare feet, pushing him the rest of the way inside. He felt the mouth close around him. He heard Col. Smith growl, "Mmmmmmm."

Jason's naked body had been well-slicked by Col. Smith's saliva, and when the colonel finally swallowed, Jason slid down easily. The throat squeezed him firmly and guided him forward and downward. As Jason entered the soldier's stomach, the strength of the throat muscled forced him roughly into a curled-up position.

Col. Smith sat still for a few moments, still leaning forward as he breathed heavily, now that his throat was clear to breathe again. Then he sighed and kicked back on the sofa. His hairy abdomen stuck up and out, swollen with its newly swallowed cargo.

The colonel's breathing slowed as his feelings mellowed. The fierce rush of aggression that went with subduing an enemy gave way to a quiet, satiated contentment. Jason was safely inside Col. Smith's stomach now, and the colonel needed to do nothing but relax and enjoy the feeling of nature taking its course inside of him.

Jason was still well aware of himself inside the colonel's stomach. He felt the slick stomach walls, strong and secure around his naked body in every direction. He opened his eyes, but it was completely dark. Jason wondered what the stomach lining looked like; he could feel its wet, slightly rough texture, but he would never know the coloration of the surface which was enclosing him all around. Too bad there was no way of making a light in here. But, then, Jason knew that the colonel's stomach was not intended to be a luxury resort. This stomach was for the colonel's satisfaction, not Jason's.

There was nothing at all for Jason to do but simply wait inside Col. Smith's stomach. Jason moved slightly, trying to get some slight relief from how cramped he was in his curled-up position. Even if Jason had wanted to, there was not a thing he could do to stop the New Soldier from digesting him. He hoped it wouldn't hurt much. Most people said that you'd probably pass out from the short air well before the real digestion got underway; but, of course, nobody who had experienced it had ever reported what it was actually like. For the moment, it wasn't too bad. The endorphin rush made it seem less awful than it really was to be in a man's dark, hot belly.

It was hot, and Jason knew that his sweat was being added to the saliva which covered his body. He sucked at the little pocket of stale stomach air. Altho he was still strongly feeling warm feeling of love for his swallower, Jason realized that he felt oddly alone. There could be no more conversation between Jason and the man who ate him. Col. Smith's body surrounded him entirely; it was a far more intimate physical consummation between the two males than any possible sex act; the sound of Col. Smith's breathing was only inches away; but yet somehow, Jason knew that he was on his own.

Jason realized why he felt this way. There had been a brief, enjoyable social relationship as Col. Smith and Jason had made conversation with each other before the swallowing; they had gotten to know each other a little. But when Col. Smith swallowed him, the social relationship ended. In its place was now a purely biological relationship between a man and the nutrients in his stomach. It made no difference that those nutrients were still temporarily in the form of a live young man. The colonel's digestive process was impersonal and automatic, and a man usually didn't give a whole lot more thought to his meal after he ate it.

If Col. Smith had given the matter any thought, he would have felt the same way about it. Despite his great strength and fierceness, he was a friendly man, the sort of man who would make conversation with a bank teller or an airline clerk. When the moment of business with a clerk was done and each had wished the other a nice day, Col. Smith would not give the conversation any further thought; he might well never see that person again. The conversation just served to make an impersonal transaction a little nicer. He looked down at his swollen gut, viewing the results of his most recent impersonal transaction. The young man had been someone he had ordered from the agency's selection book. The conversation had been pleasant enough, but the colonel was not going to miss Jason, or even give him much further thought. He simply felt good and full.

Col. Smith reached for the television remote control. He flipped thru the channels until he came across an old detective movie which he remembered from his teen years, back when he was a cadet at a special academy for New Soldiers. What year was it when that movie had come out? 2048? 2049? He couldn't remember.

There was a tap on the door. "Yeah," called Col. Smith, not taking his eyes away from the movie.

The door slid open, and the man from the front desk, Kyle, came in. Kyle saw the huge, naked New Soldier on the sofa; the man was fit, with huge muscular arms and legs, but his hairy belly was swollen and distended. Kyle gave no reaction; he saw this all the time. An hour earlier, Kyle had gone into the Helpers' waiting area, tapped Jason on the shoulder where he was playing a board game with some other waiting Helpers, and said, "Your guy is waiting for you in room 5. I don't think you'll be disappointed with him." Kyle knew then that Jason would soon be a bulge in Col. Smith's middle. It was so now.

"I just wanted to make sure everything had been satisfactory for you, sir," said Kyle.

"Yeah, fine," said Col. Smith, barely glancing away from the movie. "Nice kid. He tasted great." He stroked his gut.

"Will you be wanting anything else tonight, sir?"

"Yeah. How about another beer?"

"Right away, sir. Another Suntory Dry?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

Kyle left and returned shortly afterwards with another beer on a small round tray. He came close to the naked Col. Smith and set it down on table. "There you are, sir."

"I'll probably sleep here," said Col. Smith.

"No problem, sir," said Kyle. "You have the room until tomorrow morning."

Col. Smith finally turned his head and looking straight at Kyle. The Hero's Reward was one well-run establishment. "You guys are the best," he said.

Kyle smiled. "Thank you, sir." He gave a respectful nod, and left the colonel alone, sliding the door shut.

Two hours later, the beer glass stood empty on the table. The changing bluish light from the screen still dimly illuminated Col. Smith's muscular, hairy, naked body. The colonel's eyes were closed, and his moustached mouth was hanging partly open as he breathed in a soft snore. His body, however, was occupied with digesting his meal.

Jason had not been aware for more than two hours now, but his fondest wish was being fulfilled. He was being digested and added into the body of a New Soldier.

The night passed. It was nearly seven-hundred hours when Col. Smith awoke. He stretched. He felt much, much better than he had yesterday, when he had been feeling the hunger so badly. He looked down and patted his belly, whose bulge had slowly gone down and disappeared overnight.

Col. Smith could have called into work and taken some leave time; he had plenty saved up. A New Soldier was officially given special leave time when he needed to eat somebody, just as employees got leave time for any other essential personal need. But there was a lot to get done at work. There wasn't really time to get home before nine-hundred hours, so Col. Smith decided to shower here. He grabbed a towel from the shelf by the door and walked down the hall to the shower room.

There were a few other New Soldiers in the common shower, others who had slept overnight in their rooms as Col. Smith had. Their tall, muscular, naked forms were an impressive sight as they casually rubbed themselves with soap. Their voices echoed in the tiled shower room over the hissing sound of showerheads; they talked about work, the weather, the young men they had consumed the night before, their favorite sports teams, and other casual topics. Col. Smith saw a few friends of his, and they addressed him as "Smith" in usual military fashion.

There were a few Soldier's Helpers in the shower room as well, good looking young men, but smaller in stature than the New Soldiers. Most of the Helpers had day jobs and were getting ready for work; they'd be back in the evening in hopes of being ordered. Col. Smith was at the next showerhead from a Helper who, Col. Smith learned, was named Colin. The two made conversation as they washed, talking first about their work. Then the conversation turned to swallowing, a topic of interest to both.

"So, who did you order last night?" Colin wanted to know.

"He was, uh-- damn-- I forget his name," said Col. Smith. "Dark hair, cut real short; cute face, nice guy."

"You mean Jason? I saw him get called from the Helper lounge last night."

"Yeah, that's the one. You know him?"

"Oh, yeah. Jason and I were kind of pals. It's usually a while after the agency call us before we get the, you know, the request. We all hang out over in the Helpers' lounge, and we play games and stuff and talk a bunch. We all get to know each other," said Colin.

Col. Smith turned and faced Colin, looking down at him because he was a full head taller. He smirked. "How does it feel, standing here next to me, knowing that I ate your buddy?"

Colin looked at Col. Smith and said nothing at first. He bit his lip, not out of resentment at what Col. Smith had done to his friend, but rather from the sheer excitement of standing face-to-face with a naked man who had done this thing and could do it again. After a moment, Colin's eyes flicked involuntarily down to the colonel's hairy muscular abdomen. He was obviously thinking about where Jason had ended up last night. "He was lucky," said Colin. "Jason always said he hoped it would be a good looking man who ate him, and I bet he wasn't disappointed when he went in the room and saw you."

"Yeah," said Col. Smith. "And more important, it's what I wanted. He tasted really great, lemme tell you. Filled me up real nice." The colonel turned his face into the shower spray and raised his hands to rinse his short hair.

Colin said nothing. There were the sounds of other male voices and water running.

Col. Smith finished with his rinsing. He turned and put a hand on each of Colin's shoulders. "Maybe I should have me some breakfast too," he said darkly. "How'd you like to go where your buddy went?"

Colin's eyes opened wider as he looked up into Col. Smith's face. Usually the New Soldiers picked the helpers from the selection book in the evening, but here was no rule against grabbing one in the shower in the morning. If this hulking New Soldier wanted to swallow him up right here and now, in front of everybody, he could do it. Colin stopped breathing. This might be it.

Then Col. Smith's face broke into a grin, and he rubbed Colin's wet hair and gave him a pat on the butt. "I'm just messing with ya, kid. I feel great after last night, thanks to your pal. I won't need to eat another one of you guys for at least a couple of months."

Colin started breathing again. "I wouldn't have minded if you were the one," he said.

"I know," said the colonel. "I know you'd love it if I just swallowed you right up." He was playing with the young man, and he laughed. "I'm sure you'll be long gone before I get back here, or else I'd be glad to be the one to make your dream come true. Don't worry, I'm sure it'll be a great guy who gets ya." He waved a casual goodbye to Colin as he went out to the front area to get his towel.

Fifteen minutes later, Col. Smith was at the front desk. Another clerk was there this morning, not Kyle. Col. Smith paid for the use of the room, for his two beers, and for the small agency fee. There was no charge for Jason himself, of course, since it was illegal to buy a human to eat; the agency merely charged both the swallower and swallowee a minor fee for the service of arranging the connection between the two. Jason, of course, had paid his small matching fee when he had signed up with the Hero's Reward several weeks ago, since he had been consumed and obviously could not pay the sign-up fee now.

It was a cold but sunny February morning when Col. Smith stepped out into the sunlight. He felt great.

The neon road sign for the Soldier's Reward was switched off; it had a forlorn look in the morning light, as if the sign itself knew that last night's satisfying hours were over. Around the parking lot, a few other New Soldiers were getting into their cars and driving away. The hydrogen engines made no sound; there was only the gravelly sound of tires on the pavement.

Col. Smith glanced at his watch as he started his own car. The time was 8:23 a.m. The date was Friday, February 20th, 2082. Col. Smith would be at work in plenty of time. He knew he'd be able to attack his work well. It would be no problem, not now that he had satisfied his hunger by swallowing somebody once yet again, as he had done so many enjoyable times before.

The End