American Royalty 1 Coming of AgeChapter 16 Hostage mdash Liam
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The Hostage Chapter 2 free porn video
The stifling air seemed to cool down at least ten degrees on the shore of
the small mountain stream, which was shaded by the cypress trees along its
banks. Martin undid the ropes on Trevor's wrists. He sat down on a rock
with his rifle aimed at Trevor.
Trevor dipped a toe into the stream and was pleased with the water
temperature. He dropped his underwear and waded in.
"Aren't you going to join me?" he asked.
"Not this time. I bathed a short while ago."
Not this time. I guess Martin would join him another time. Trevor hoped
so, but again he hated himself for thinking such thoughts. Martin was the
enemy, and he had no intention of sleeping with the enemy, no matter how
attractive.
Trevor washed himself as best he could without soap. Nevertheless the romp
in the cool stream was very refreshing, and he hated to come out. After he
emerged, he realized that he had no towel so he laid himself down on the
grass and let the sun dry his body. Martin just sat with his rifle pointed
at his hostage. He was strangely quiet.
"Next time can we bring soap and towels?" Trevor asked.
"Of course. I was unprepared to take you here today. Next time will be
different."
Trevor could only wonder what he meant by next time. Would Martin join him
in the water...naked? He hoped so. When he felt that he was dry enough,
Trevor stood up and put on his boxers. Martin stood up also, his rifle
still pointed at Trevor.
"We had better get to the cabin and out of the sun soon," Martin said.
"The afternoon sun can be brutal." Trevor was pleased that Martin did not
put any ropes on his wrists. He reckoned that Martin considered him to be
no danger with a rifle constantly pointed in his face. He was afraid the
ropes would be reapplied at bedtime.
"I'll make us something to eat," Martin said. "After lunch we will
rehearse your first message to your pig friends. I have already written
it."
There were two knapsacks lying in the corner of the room, along with both
their clothing. Martin removed a slab of cheese from one of the sacks. He
broke off two small pieces and he gave one to Trevor. He carefully
returned the remaining cheese to the sack. Then he opened the other sack
and removed a large, round loaf of bread. Again he broke off two small
pieces and offered one to Trevor. Apparently that was to be the menu for
all times, since Trevor could not see any other food around the place. He
wondered if the keys to the Jeep were in one of the sacks, or in the pocket
of Martin's trousers lying alongside.
After what passed as their lunch, Martin restrained Trevor again. He
walked out of the cabin without closing the door. Trevor could see him
getting something out of the Jeep. He came back, closed the door, and laid
out two sleeping bags on the floor. He made no explanation to Trevor, but
he reached into the pocket of his trousers, and he took out a little piece
of paper. Yet again he untied Trevor's wrists and handed him the paper.
Trevor read:
Hello friends. This is Trevor Lawrence. As you know I am a journalist
with CNN. My cameraman Ahmed and I invaded insurgent territory on the
pretext of wanting to interview some of them. Our real mission was to spy
for UN forces. We were captured and we were separated, but my captors tell
me that Ahmed is alive and well, and he is being well treated. As for
myself, I am being well fed and treated humanely. This is a pleasant
surprise since they know that I am a spy. I think they will want to swap
me for one or more of our prisoners at a later date. Time will tell.
"Do I have to lie about Ahmed?" Trevor asked. "It isn't fair to give his
family false hope. He has little c***dren."
"It can't be helped. Ahmed was a soldier in the fight for Islam. Someday
his c***dren will learn of his martyrdom and be proud. Now read and
memorize the message and be sincere. I want you to convince me that you
are telling the truth. Remember, I can make your life misery or paradise.
It's up to you."
Trevor read the message several times. He pretended to take a long time to
commit the message to his memory. He was stalling for time, and still no
plan came to him. Finally, as he recited the first word, he conceived a
plan.
For no reason at all, he got a picture in his mind of Humphrey Bogart
playing Captain Queeg in The Caine Mutiny. When he testified at the court
martial, Queeg betrayed his insanity by rubbing steel balls in his hand.
Trevor had no steel balls, but he decided that he would hold his hands
perfectly still in his lap when he was telling the truth. When he was
telling a lie he would begin to rub his fingers together in a slow motion,
but when he was telling a whopper, he would rub his fingers in a more
agitated manner. If he did this at every taping, he prayed the experts
would pick up on it. He could only pray that Martin would be too busy with
the camera to notice.
Martin had substituted his rifle for the camera. "When you look in the
camera," he instructed Trevor, "pretend it's my rifle and behave yourself.
Smile occasionally. If you cooperate, I have a special treat for you for
dinner. If you try to fuck it up, you can watch me eating your treat, and
you'll get nothing to eat, not even water." Trevor had to take the risk.
He recited the message rather convincingly and rubbed the fingers of his
right hand together at the appropriate time. He also smiled occasionally,
but only when he was lying. He hoped that would be an additional clue to
the experts to indicate that he was being forced to recite this bag of
lies.
Martin seemed pleased at the result. "See how easy that was?" he asked.
"So what's my treat?" Trevor asked. He knew what he wanted but it wasn't
going to happen.
"I've got a cooler in the Jeep and it's full of fresh melons. We'll have
some with dinner."
Dinner consisted of a piece of cheese, a smaller piece of bread, and a
sliver of melon. After dinner Martin said, "I'm sure you have noticed that
we have no electricity. We have about an hour of daylight left. Do you
play gin rummy?"
"I haven't played in years. Perhaps you could refresh my memory."
"I used to play with my father," Martin said wistfully. "He taught me."
He produced a deck of cards from out of his trousers. Trevor wondered how
many other little treasures were in the pockets of the trousers lying
neglected on the floor. The keys to the Jeep, he hoped.
They sat facing each other on the floor. Their legs were folded under
them, producing a gap in the fly of both their boxers. Trevor could see
Martin's dark pubic hair again, and he was sure that Martin could see his
blond pubes. They played until it grew too dark to see. Martin put the
cards away and started to tie up Trevor.
"Please," Trevor said, "don't do this. Where could I go if I wanted to
escape? I have no idea where I am." He was very shocked when Martin
relented and threw the ropes on top of his discarded clothing.
"I'm a very light sleeper," Martin warned.
Trevor had hoped that Martin would put the two sleeping bags close
together, but alas, he put his bag clear across the other side of the room.
Fortunately, it was clear across from the knapsacks and clothing also. It
had cooled down considerably once the sun set, and both men crept inside
their sleeping bags.
Trevor willed himself to stay awake. He was rewarded when he heard Martin
snoring slightly. Quietly, stealthily, he stood up and went over to
Martin's trousers. He reached into the right hand pocket because he noted
that Martin was right handed. There were the keys he so desperately
sought. Clad only in his boxers he crept out of the cabin and sat down
behind the wheel of the Jeep. He put the key in the ignition and got only
a cranking, groaning sound. He tried again and again, but the Jeep would
not start.
"Are you having trouble?" he heard Martin ask.
Martin was standing outside the Jeep holding out his hand. Trevor removed
the key, got out of the Jeep and handed the keys to Martin.
"I removed the wires to the ignition," Martin said in a very matter of fact
way. He was grinning broadly, almost laughing. "I knew you would try
something like that. I would have been disappointed if you hadn't. Just
don't try it again. Now let's get some sleep. I want to tape another
message tomorrow."
Trevor was dejected, but he followed Martin meekly into the cabin. He lay
down once again and crept into his sleeping bag. He was shocked when
Martin brought his bag right up to his, and laid it down so that they were
actually touching. "I see I have to keep a sharper eye on you," Martin
said. He crept into his bag and mumbled something that sounded to Trevor
like g'ni.
In the middle of the night Trevor awoke. Martin was breathing into his ear
and it had disturbed him. The room had been pitch black when they retired,
but now moonlight streamed through a dirty window. Trevor glanced at
Martin. He had come out of his sleeping bag and was lying on top of it.
He was on his side, and was sort of hunkering up to Trevor. Martin's leg
was covering his cock, and Trevor could not get a glimpse of it. Suddenly,
as if in answer to a prayer, Martin rolled over and onto his back. His
very hard cock was pointing straight to the ceiling through the fly of his
boxers. Trevor gasped. Martin's cock was very fat and at least eight
inches. He wondered if it got bigger in the heat of passion. Trevor
longed to take that cock into his mouth, or sit on it and take it into his
ass, but he didn't dare.
He got out of the sleeping bag, and lay down on top also. He sidled as
close to Martin as he could, and he let the back of his palm touch Martin's
leg. He was afraid to go further, so he lay like that for a long time
unable to breathe. Finally, Martin rolled over in the other direction, and
they were no longer touching. Trevor finally fell asleep.
In the morning, they relieved themselves behind the rock. Martin dug a
little hole which served as their commode. When they were done, he covered
their dung. We'll wash later in the stream," he said. "If you don't
cooperate, you can walk around all day with a shitty ass."
Trevor desperately wanted to bathe naked with Martin, and he did indeed
behave himself. He taped the next message as convincingly as he could, but
he smiled at the biggest lies, and rubbed his fingers together along with
his smiles. If Martin was suspicious, he didn't show it.
When the taping was done, Martin led them to the stream, but he didn't
stop. He walked a bit farther upstream. "It's deeper here," he explained.
"We'll be able to get in almost neck high." They dropped their boxers and
Martin laid two towels on top of them. He had a bar of soap in his hand,
but it was laundry detergent. Neither of them cared.
They soaped themselves alternately and then Martin handed Trevor the soap
and said, "Do my back, please." Trevor was shocked, but very excited. He
took the soap and started soaping Martin's neck. Little by little he went
farther down Martin's back.
"I haven't felt this clean in weeks," Martin said. "Aaaah."
Trevor was nearly in a trance. He soaped farther and farther down Martin's
back. He didn't even realize it when he started to soap Martin's buttocks.
Martin made no move to stop him. Trevor began to rub the soap up and down
Martin's crack, and without thinking, he inserted a finger in Martin's most
private part. Martin sighed and pushed himself farther back against
Trevor, forcing Trevor's finger further up his ass.
Suddenly Martin pulled away, turned around and faced Trevor. His eyes were
blazing with anger and he slapped Trevor hard across his face. "Faggot,"
he yelled. "You won't drag me to hell with you."
The two men glared at each other, Martin with hate, and Trevor with
disappointment. Neither said anything. They left the water and began to
dry themselves. Trevor was frightened. He was certain that he had
overstepped his bounds, and that Martin would see to some severe
punishment.
They started back to the cabin. When they entered it, Martin closed the
door, grabbed hold of Trevor and began to kiss him with an open mouth.
Martin put his lips up against Trevor's ear. Be very quiet," he said. "We
are being observed, and the cabin is most likely bugged."
The cabin remained eerily quiet after that. Trevor was afraid to say
anything. He knew that the cabin was probably bugged for sound, but after
careful scrutiny, he was sure there were no hidden cameras staring at them.
Martin would not have kissed him if there were.
They made small talk when they ate, and also when they played gin rummy.
Otherwise they spoke hardly at all. Finally it grew too dark to see
anything, and they got ready to retire. Martin put both sleeping bags
close together, and he lay down on top of his. Trevor heard a slight
rustle and figured out that Martin had removed his boxers. He did the same
and lay down on top of his bag with his stiff cock throbbing in
expectation.
"Don't pull the same crap you pulled last night," Martin warned out loud,
and then in an instant he was on top of Trevor, kissing him passionately.
Martin whispered in Trevor's ear, "I will do everything I can to keep you
safe, and get you back to your people as quickly as possible, but you must
never speak of this. If my comrade's found out about this, we'd both be
dead as quick as you could say Martin Spenser." He slid down Trevor's body
and took Trevor's hard cock into his mouth. Trevor put his fist in his
mouth in anticipation of what was coming. He came quickly, too quickly for
both their wishes. Trevor had to bite hard into his fist to keep from
emitting any noises. Martin swallowed all that Trevor had to offer.
When Trevor recovered a bit, he returned the favor. Martin had to bite his
fist also. Afterward they held each other tightly, and just before they
separated for the night, Martin whispered again. "Tomorrow, in the stream,
I think it will be safe to fuck each other in the deep water."
In the water the next day, they pretended to be splashing each other and
romping around. They somehow managed to enter each other's asses, but they
did not dare start to fuck for fear of discovery. They were able to play
like this for the next few days, but at night they went down on each other
and came to a mind blowing conclusion. They were frustrated about not
being able to cum in their asses, but they had no choice for fear of being
discovered.
Every day Trevor taped a message to the outside world, penned by Martin.
Martin did not seem to notice the phony smiles and the fluttery fingers,
and Trevor allowed himself to believe he was getting away with it. His
only fear was that when the tapes were sent out, the experts would not pick
up on his shenanigans.
One morning, Martin was extremely cold to Trevor. "This is the day the
courier is coming. I don't know what time he'll get here, so you will have
to forgive me for this." He found the ropes he had previously discarded
and tied Trevor's hands behind his back. He had Trevor sit on the floor
and he tied his ankles together. Trevor said nothing. He just stared
forlornly at his captor.
He was shocked when Martin took out a piece of duct tape. Before Martin
could tape his mouth, Trevor said, "I have heard that prisoners very often
fall in love with their captors." He stared hard at Martin. "I'm no
exception." Martin looked like he was about to cry, and he slapped a piece
of tape across Trevor's mouth.
The courier did not arrive until mid afternoon. Trevor was bound the whole
time. Martin did not even feed him the entire day. Very few words were
exchanged between the courier and Martin. The courier took the camera and
gave Martin a new one. It was very inferior to the one stolen from Ahmed.
He also brought in a few bags of provisions and exchanged a new cooler for
the old one. On his way out, he kicked Trevor in the ribs and spat out one
word. "Pig!" Martin winced.
Martin wanted to make sure that the courier would not return unexpectedly.
He waited almost two hours, until the sun began to set, before he untied
Trevor. As he did, he kept hugging him without saying a word. Both men
were crying. When it grew dark and they got ready to retire, they held
each other tightly and cried bitterly. They did not make love that night.
They just held on to each other as if they were clinging to each other for
dear life. They slept that way all night.
They were awakened before dawn by the sound of several vehicles approaching
the cabin. Martin put on his boxers, grabbed his rifle and ran to the
window. Trevor put on his boxers also, and watched Martin intently,
fearing for his life.
"Thank God," he heard Martin say.
The cabin door opened and several US Army personnel entered. It was still
dark, but one of them shone a flashlight into the room. Another lit a gas
lamp and illuminated the room. The sergeant with the flashlight, turned it
off, stood straight, and saluted. He smiled broadly and said, "Lieutenant
Spenser, sir. It's good to see you again." Then Martin and the sergeant
shook hands. Trevor was struck dumb.
"You don't know how glad I am to see you, Jim. How did it go?"
"According to script, sir. We killed twelve of their top honchos, and a
few paeans to boot."
"Great! Now get us out of here. We need a decent bath, a decent bed, and
transportation back to the States ASAP." Martin threw Trevor's clothes at
him. "Get dressed, Trev. We're out of here."
"What the fuck is going on?"
"I'll explain everything later. You're going to get a good news story for
CNN; I promise you."
To be continued...
the small mountain stream, which was shaded by the cypress trees along its
banks. Martin undid the ropes on Trevor's wrists. He sat down on a rock
with his rifle aimed at Trevor.
Trevor dipped a toe into the stream and was pleased with the water
temperature. He dropped his underwear and waded in.
"Aren't you going to join me?" he asked.
"Not this time. I bathed a short while ago."
Not this time. I guess Martin would join him another time. Trevor hoped
so, but again he hated himself for thinking such thoughts. Martin was the
enemy, and he had no intention of sleeping with the enemy, no matter how
attractive.
Trevor washed himself as best he could without soap. Nevertheless the romp
in the cool stream was very refreshing, and he hated to come out. After he
emerged, he realized that he had no towel so he laid himself down on the
grass and let the sun dry his body. Martin just sat with his rifle pointed
at his hostage. He was strangely quiet.
"Next time can we bring soap and towels?" Trevor asked.
"Of course. I was unprepared to take you here today. Next time will be
different."
Trevor could only wonder what he meant by next time. Would Martin join him
in the water...naked? He hoped so. When he felt that he was dry enough,
Trevor stood up and put on his boxers. Martin stood up also, his rifle
still pointed at Trevor.
"We had better get to the cabin and out of the sun soon," Martin said.
"The afternoon sun can be brutal." Trevor was pleased that Martin did not
put any ropes on his wrists. He reckoned that Martin considered him to be
no danger with a rifle constantly pointed in his face. He was afraid the
ropes would be reapplied at bedtime.
"I'll make us something to eat," Martin said. "After lunch we will
rehearse your first message to your pig friends. I have already written
it."
There were two knapsacks lying in the corner of the room, along with both
their clothing. Martin removed a slab of cheese from one of the sacks. He
broke off two small pieces and he gave one to Trevor. He carefully
returned the remaining cheese to the sack. Then he opened the other sack
and removed a large, round loaf of bread. Again he broke off two small
pieces and offered one to Trevor. Apparently that was to be the menu for
all times, since Trevor could not see any other food around the place. He
wondered if the keys to the Jeep were in one of the sacks, or in the pocket
of Martin's trousers lying alongside.
After what passed as their lunch, Martin restrained Trevor again. He
walked out of the cabin without closing the door. Trevor could see him
getting something out of the Jeep. He came back, closed the door, and laid
out two sleeping bags on the floor. He made no explanation to Trevor, but
he reached into the pocket of his trousers, and he took out a little piece
of paper. Yet again he untied Trevor's wrists and handed him the paper.
Trevor read:
Hello friends. This is Trevor Lawrence. As you know I am a journalist
with CNN. My cameraman Ahmed and I invaded insurgent territory on the
pretext of wanting to interview some of them. Our real mission was to spy
for UN forces. We were captured and we were separated, but my captors tell
me that Ahmed is alive and well, and he is being well treated. As for
myself, I am being well fed and treated humanely. This is a pleasant
surprise since they know that I am a spy. I think they will want to swap
me for one or more of our prisoners at a later date. Time will tell.
"Do I have to lie about Ahmed?" Trevor asked. "It isn't fair to give his
family false hope. He has little c***dren."
"It can't be helped. Ahmed was a soldier in the fight for Islam. Someday
his c***dren will learn of his martyrdom and be proud. Now read and
memorize the message and be sincere. I want you to convince me that you
are telling the truth. Remember, I can make your life misery or paradise.
It's up to you."
Trevor read the message several times. He pretended to take a long time to
commit the message to his memory. He was stalling for time, and still no
plan came to him. Finally, as he recited the first word, he conceived a
plan.
For no reason at all, he got a picture in his mind of Humphrey Bogart
playing Captain Queeg in The Caine Mutiny. When he testified at the court
martial, Queeg betrayed his insanity by rubbing steel balls in his hand.
Trevor had no steel balls, but he decided that he would hold his hands
perfectly still in his lap when he was telling the truth. When he was
telling a lie he would begin to rub his fingers together in a slow motion,
but when he was telling a whopper, he would rub his fingers in a more
agitated manner. If he did this at every taping, he prayed the experts
would pick up on it. He could only pray that Martin would be too busy with
the camera to notice.
Martin had substituted his rifle for the camera. "When you look in the
camera," he instructed Trevor, "pretend it's my rifle and behave yourself.
Smile occasionally. If you cooperate, I have a special treat for you for
dinner. If you try to fuck it up, you can watch me eating your treat, and
you'll get nothing to eat, not even water." Trevor had to take the risk.
He recited the message rather convincingly and rubbed the fingers of his
right hand together at the appropriate time. He also smiled occasionally,
but only when he was lying. He hoped that would be an additional clue to
the experts to indicate that he was being forced to recite this bag of
lies.
Martin seemed pleased at the result. "See how easy that was?" he asked.
"So what's my treat?" Trevor asked. He knew what he wanted but it wasn't
going to happen.
"I've got a cooler in the Jeep and it's full of fresh melons. We'll have
some with dinner."
Dinner consisted of a piece of cheese, a smaller piece of bread, and a
sliver of melon. After dinner Martin said, "I'm sure you have noticed that
we have no electricity. We have about an hour of daylight left. Do you
play gin rummy?"
"I haven't played in years. Perhaps you could refresh my memory."
"I used to play with my father," Martin said wistfully. "He taught me."
He produced a deck of cards from out of his trousers. Trevor wondered how
many other little treasures were in the pockets of the trousers lying
neglected on the floor. The keys to the Jeep, he hoped.
They sat facing each other on the floor. Their legs were folded under
them, producing a gap in the fly of both their boxers. Trevor could see
Martin's dark pubic hair again, and he was sure that Martin could see his
blond pubes. They played until it grew too dark to see. Martin put the
cards away and started to tie up Trevor.
"Please," Trevor said, "don't do this. Where could I go if I wanted to
escape? I have no idea where I am." He was very shocked when Martin
relented and threw the ropes on top of his discarded clothing.
"I'm a very light sleeper," Martin warned.
Trevor had hoped that Martin would put the two sleeping bags close
together, but alas, he put his bag clear across the other side of the room.
Fortunately, it was clear across from the knapsacks and clothing also. It
had cooled down considerably once the sun set, and both men crept inside
their sleeping bags.
Trevor willed himself to stay awake. He was rewarded when he heard Martin
snoring slightly. Quietly, stealthily, he stood up and went over to
Martin's trousers. He reached into the right hand pocket because he noted
that Martin was right handed. There were the keys he so desperately
sought. Clad only in his boxers he crept out of the cabin and sat down
behind the wheel of the Jeep. He put the key in the ignition and got only
a cranking, groaning sound. He tried again and again, but the Jeep would
not start.
"Are you having trouble?" he heard Martin ask.
Martin was standing outside the Jeep holding out his hand. Trevor removed
the key, got out of the Jeep and handed the keys to Martin.
"I removed the wires to the ignition," Martin said in a very matter of fact
way. He was grinning broadly, almost laughing. "I knew you would try
something like that. I would have been disappointed if you hadn't. Just
don't try it again. Now let's get some sleep. I want to tape another
message tomorrow."
Trevor was dejected, but he followed Martin meekly into the cabin. He lay
down once again and crept into his sleeping bag. He was shocked when
Martin brought his bag right up to his, and laid it down so that they were
actually touching. "I see I have to keep a sharper eye on you," Martin
said. He crept into his bag and mumbled something that sounded to Trevor
like g'ni.
In the middle of the night Trevor awoke. Martin was breathing into his ear
and it had disturbed him. The room had been pitch black when they retired,
but now moonlight streamed through a dirty window. Trevor glanced at
Martin. He had come out of his sleeping bag and was lying on top of it.
He was on his side, and was sort of hunkering up to Trevor. Martin's leg
was covering his cock, and Trevor could not get a glimpse of it. Suddenly,
as if in answer to a prayer, Martin rolled over and onto his back. His
very hard cock was pointing straight to the ceiling through the fly of his
boxers. Trevor gasped. Martin's cock was very fat and at least eight
inches. He wondered if it got bigger in the heat of passion. Trevor
longed to take that cock into his mouth, or sit on it and take it into his
ass, but he didn't dare.
He got out of the sleeping bag, and lay down on top also. He sidled as
close to Martin as he could, and he let the back of his palm touch Martin's
leg. He was afraid to go further, so he lay like that for a long time
unable to breathe. Finally, Martin rolled over in the other direction, and
they were no longer touching. Trevor finally fell asleep.
In the morning, they relieved themselves behind the rock. Martin dug a
little hole which served as their commode. When they were done, he covered
their dung. We'll wash later in the stream," he said. "If you don't
cooperate, you can walk around all day with a shitty ass."
Trevor desperately wanted to bathe naked with Martin, and he did indeed
behave himself. He taped the next message as convincingly as he could, but
he smiled at the biggest lies, and rubbed his fingers together along with
his smiles. If Martin was suspicious, he didn't show it.
When the taping was done, Martin led them to the stream, but he didn't
stop. He walked a bit farther upstream. "It's deeper here," he explained.
"We'll be able to get in almost neck high." They dropped their boxers and
Martin laid two towels on top of them. He had a bar of soap in his hand,
but it was laundry detergent. Neither of them cared.
They soaped themselves alternately and then Martin handed Trevor the soap
and said, "Do my back, please." Trevor was shocked, but very excited. He
took the soap and started soaping Martin's neck. Little by little he went
farther down Martin's back.
"I haven't felt this clean in weeks," Martin said. "Aaaah."
Trevor was nearly in a trance. He soaped farther and farther down Martin's
back. He didn't even realize it when he started to soap Martin's buttocks.
Martin made no move to stop him. Trevor began to rub the soap up and down
Martin's crack, and without thinking, he inserted a finger in Martin's most
private part. Martin sighed and pushed himself farther back against
Trevor, forcing Trevor's finger further up his ass.
Suddenly Martin pulled away, turned around and faced Trevor. His eyes were
blazing with anger and he slapped Trevor hard across his face. "Faggot,"
he yelled. "You won't drag me to hell with you."
The two men glared at each other, Martin with hate, and Trevor with
disappointment. Neither said anything. They left the water and began to
dry themselves. Trevor was frightened. He was certain that he had
overstepped his bounds, and that Martin would see to some severe
punishment.
They started back to the cabin. When they entered it, Martin closed the
door, grabbed hold of Trevor and began to kiss him with an open mouth.
Martin put his lips up against Trevor's ear. Be very quiet," he said. "We
are being observed, and the cabin is most likely bugged."
The cabin remained eerily quiet after that. Trevor was afraid to say
anything. He knew that the cabin was probably bugged for sound, but after
careful scrutiny, he was sure there were no hidden cameras staring at them.
Martin would not have kissed him if there were.
They made small talk when they ate, and also when they played gin rummy.
Otherwise they spoke hardly at all. Finally it grew too dark to see
anything, and they got ready to retire. Martin put both sleeping bags
close together, and he lay down on top of his. Trevor heard a slight
rustle and figured out that Martin had removed his boxers. He did the same
and lay down on top of his bag with his stiff cock throbbing in
expectation.
"Don't pull the same crap you pulled last night," Martin warned out loud,
and then in an instant he was on top of Trevor, kissing him passionately.
Martin whispered in Trevor's ear, "I will do everything I can to keep you
safe, and get you back to your people as quickly as possible, but you must
never speak of this. If my comrade's found out about this, we'd both be
dead as quick as you could say Martin Spenser." He slid down Trevor's body
and took Trevor's hard cock into his mouth. Trevor put his fist in his
mouth in anticipation of what was coming. He came quickly, too quickly for
both their wishes. Trevor had to bite hard into his fist to keep from
emitting any noises. Martin swallowed all that Trevor had to offer.
When Trevor recovered a bit, he returned the favor. Martin had to bite his
fist also. Afterward they held each other tightly, and just before they
separated for the night, Martin whispered again. "Tomorrow, in the stream,
I think it will be safe to fuck each other in the deep water."
In the water the next day, they pretended to be splashing each other and
romping around. They somehow managed to enter each other's asses, but they
did not dare start to fuck for fear of discovery. They were able to play
like this for the next few days, but at night they went down on each other
and came to a mind blowing conclusion. They were frustrated about not
being able to cum in their asses, but they had no choice for fear of being
discovered.
Every day Trevor taped a message to the outside world, penned by Martin.
Martin did not seem to notice the phony smiles and the fluttery fingers,
and Trevor allowed himself to believe he was getting away with it. His
only fear was that when the tapes were sent out, the experts would not pick
up on his shenanigans.
One morning, Martin was extremely cold to Trevor. "This is the day the
courier is coming. I don't know what time he'll get here, so you will have
to forgive me for this." He found the ropes he had previously discarded
and tied Trevor's hands behind his back. He had Trevor sit on the floor
and he tied his ankles together. Trevor said nothing. He just stared
forlornly at his captor.
He was shocked when Martin took out a piece of duct tape. Before Martin
could tape his mouth, Trevor said, "I have heard that prisoners very often
fall in love with their captors." He stared hard at Martin. "I'm no
exception." Martin looked like he was about to cry, and he slapped a piece
of tape across Trevor's mouth.
The courier did not arrive until mid afternoon. Trevor was bound the whole
time. Martin did not even feed him the entire day. Very few words were
exchanged between the courier and Martin. The courier took the camera and
gave Martin a new one. It was very inferior to the one stolen from Ahmed.
He also brought in a few bags of provisions and exchanged a new cooler for
the old one. On his way out, he kicked Trevor in the ribs and spat out one
word. "Pig!" Martin winced.
Martin wanted to make sure that the courier would not return unexpectedly.
He waited almost two hours, until the sun began to set, before he untied
Trevor. As he did, he kept hugging him without saying a word. Both men
were crying. When it grew dark and they got ready to retire, they held
each other tightly and cried bitterly. They did not make love that night.
They just held on to each other as if they were clinging to each other for
dear life. They slept that way all night.
They were awakened before dawn by the sound of several vehicles approaching
the cabin. Martin put on his boxers, grabbed his rifle and ran to the
window. Trevor put on his boxers also, and watched Martin intently,
fearing for his life.
"Thank God," he heard Martin say.
The cabin door opened and several US Army personnel entered. It was still
dark, but one of them shone a flashlight into the room. Another lit a gas
lamp and illuminated the room. The sergeant with the flashlight, turned it
off, stood straight, and saluted. He smiled broadly and said, "Lieutenant
Spenser, sir. It's good to see you again." Then Martin and the sergeant
shook hands. Trevor was struck dumb.
"You don't know how glad I am to see you, Jim. How did it go?"
"According to script, sir. We killed twelve of their top honchos, and a
few paeans to boot."
"Great! Now get us out of here. We need a decent bath, a decent bed, and
transportation back to the States ASAP." Martin threw Trevor's clothes at
him. "Get dressed, Trev. We're out of here."
"What the fuck is going on?"
"I'll explain everything later. You're going to get a good news story for
CNN; I promise you."
To be continued...
Rowan
- 20.10.2022
- 11
- 0
