WAR STORIES
Based on an original story by Skipper, later edited by Martin
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A pair of tough and hunky young Marines are captured and brutally tortured by guerrillas…
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PART THREE
When it was clear that neither of us were going to cooperate with our captors, the Russian ordered his lackeys to prepare our next torment. I was untied from the X cross that I had shared up until now with my buddy Kurt, and I felt terribly vulnerable once I was no longer in bodily contact with my fellow Marine bull. The goons erected another X cross directly in front of Kurt, separating us by only a few feet, and started securing me to this new frame. Fortunately for me, they didn’t want to take the time to actually crucify me, so I was once again merely bound with thick ropes.
They then brought out two wooden posts of smooth hardwood — perhaps teak or ebony, by the looks of them — that were about 6 feet long and maybe 2 inches in diameter. Each goon got up behind one of us and poked one end of a pole at our slimy and well-reamed butts, while the other end dug snugly into the soil behind us at a sharp angle. Good thing, too, as if the poles were completely upright, they’d be up our asses all the way to our fuckin’ skulls!
It was hard to believe that I was thinking it, but I was actually grateful at that moment for the thick load of nut butter that the Russian officer had shot up each of our asses, as it provided lubricant for the thick wooden pole, allowing it to slide easily into our rectums without further burning or abrading our already battered assholes. But that was the only silver lining in our dire new predicament.
“We’ll start with the big one,” the Commie bastard said, indicating my beefy buddy Kurt. He stepped around Kurt’s enormous, crucified form and gave a sharp kick to the base of the pole lodged in Kurt huge muscular ass. The force sent the pole just a little more upright, plunging a couple more inches of the wooden post up Kurt’s fantastically muscular backside. My big muscle bull grunted at the rude intrusion, but otherwise remained nearly silent, instead locking his beautiful blue gaze with mine. An unbelievable wealth of emotions passed silently between us at that moment.
“Now you,” the Russian bastard said, coming up behind me and giving my post a swift kick. Holy shit! I gasped in shock as I felt the big wooden post slide further up my bowels. He then went from one of us to the other, back and forth, kicking those posts steadily deeper into our butts and causing them to get ever so slightly more upright with each kick.
“You’d better talk!” the silver-haired bear warned between sharp kicks. “Or these poles are going to MAKE you talk!”
But we remained silent, infuriating our Russian captor all the more. He came up behind Kurt and starting giving the big guy’s pole kick after kick after kick, at least a half dozen kicks in quick succession, jamming that pole at least another 4 or 5 inches up my handsome stud’s battered bum! I could actually see the business end of the log begin to press outward against the deeply corrugated wall of Kurt’s gorgeous abdominal muscles, pushing them from the inside out. Two more hard kicks sent the pole hard up against the inside of his belly button, stretching the damn spike holes wide across his muscular lower belly. Kurt looked down past his massive, hairy, spike-pierced chest to his now bulging abdomen, and surprise was clear on his achingly handsome face. The big man’s muscular guts had never been penetrated even remotely this deeply before, not even by the Russian’s massive schlong, and the sight of his own cobblestone abs bulging outward was met by incredulity in Kurt’s blue-eyed stare.
I met Kurt’s gaze, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head, all heavy-lidded almost as if he was in pleasure! The Commie gave one, two, three more hard kicks to Kurt’s post, and then stood to one side. He drew the long, serrated knife at his belt and held it close to Kurt’s bulging stomach, right over the outline of the wooden post.
“Okay, you filthy American pig!” the Russian angrily yelled, threatening to cut open Kurt’s heaving guts. “Start talking!”
Kurt affixed another sneer to his devastatingly handsome and masculine face, and said, “I got nothin’ to say.”
“Well then,” the big brutish Russian smirked. “Since you’re such a tough bastard, maybe you’d like to watch your good soldier boy here suffer some more, no?” He sheathed his knife and started giving my pole a series of sharp kicks, and I could feel the big log sinking deeper into my guts. Even though I had grown almost accustomed to Kurt’s extraordinary 18 inches of massive man meat imbedded inside my guts on a nearly nightly basis, this was different. My eyes began to grow wide as I saw my own belly begin to bulge outward, the end of the pole starting to press against my own abdominal wall. I was one tough Marine, there was no denying that… but I wasn’t as tough and strong as big Kurt! No one was! I didn’t know how much more of this torture I could take!
The Commie returned to Kurt’s backside and gave my buddy’s pole yet another stiff kick. Kurt’s entire muscular belly quivered with the force of the impact, and I could see the bulge work its way up under his ribs. God!
“NOW!! You TALK!!” But we remain silent.
KICK!!
Again, Kurt’s whole impaled body shook as the thick post sank deeper up into his tortured body. I saw his mighty ribcage swell as he took a deep breath, the blunt end of the post damn near ramming up against his muscular diaphragm.
“You TALK!! What are your names?! Where is the rest of your unit!?!”
KICK!!
“Unnghh!” Kurt moaned, the pain in his muscular guts reaching excruciating levels as nearly three feet of invading wooden pole sought to rearrange his internal organs. “You kill us,” he managed to grunt through his clenched teeth, “and you’ll never find out!”
“Idiot American bastard!” the Commie growled. “You are a big man. Big enough to survive a great deal more abuse, I think. Yes, a GREAT deal more! But your friend here,” the big Russian said as he lightly tapped the base of my post with his booted foot, jiggling my tortured innards with its vibration, “he’s near his limit! And your continued silence is killing him…”
The big, silver-haired bear stood there and considered my buddy’s magnificently muscular form for a few moments, then seemed to make a decision. “Then again,” he continued, “I only need ONE of you to get my answers…”
He then stepped forward and grasped the long dangling neck of Kurt’s monumentally heavy scrotum with one of his huge and meaty hands, wrapping his large fingers tight around the very base of the stud’s enormous bollocks. “These really ARE extremely impressive testicles that you have here! Largest set by far that I have ever seen on man to beast, and clearly very tough as well. It would be a shame to have to destroy such magnificent male organs such as these. So tell me, dog,” the big Russian said, clenching his fingers even tighter around Kurt’s scrotum and really starting to strangle those huge stud nuts of his, “where are the rest of your men?”
“Fuck you,” Kurt growled, staring straight ahead and bracing himself for even more pain.
“BASTARD!!” the Commie screamed, and he began yanking his fist downward as hard as he could, over and over and over again, trying to literally rip Kurt’s huge rocks right off of him! The big muscular Marine couldn’t help but bellow in agony as the tensile strength of the tough cords and tendons connecting his humongous bollocks to his mighty body was put to the ultimate test. The big Russian was trying to tear Kurt’s balls loose from their moorings with all of his great strength, more than DOUBLING their already incredible dangle with each beyond-brutal yank.
But Kurt’s mighty bull nuts simply refused to be detached from his magnificent body, resisting every last tug, yank, and mighty pull of the Russian’s furious fist. Fresh blood mixed with enormous amounts of raw semen were forced from the dozens of puncture holes scattered across their enormous, globular surfaces with each terrific yank, spurting and spraying even more of his potent bull spunk all over the uncaring ground. But the awesomely tough Marine simply wouldn’t talk.
With a roaring cry of fury, the Commie yanked Kurt’s balls down to the ultimate limit of their fleshy tethers — an eye-popping 8 or 9 full inches from his crotch! — and then held them there, prolonging their great aching agony. Then, with sharp and brutal tugs, he began yanking the many wooden spikes out of Kurt’s screaming bollocks. The sudden, deep, and all-consuming pain caused the huge muscle man to holler and bellow louder than ever before, and I was certain that they could hear his deep, animal cries all the way back at the guerrillas’ camp!
Kurt’s tortured and profoundly ill-used bull balls were soon free of all of their invading spikes. Any other man’s balls would have been thoroughly wrecked and mortally wounded after having suffered such abuse, but Kurt’s mighty orbs still looked healthy and hale and ready for more! I had no doubt that if the tortures ended right now, he’d likely heal even from THIS extreme level of testicular abuse with nary a scar. But I was dreadfully certain that the evil and brutal Russian had only just begun.
The angry Commie grasped one of Kurt’s mammoth nuts within each of his hands, filling his big fists to overflowing and beyond, and then began to slowly squeeze. I had no doubt that the muscular Russian had used his powerful hands to end the sex life of many a captive male in this manner, squeezing his balls until they burst inside their sac, but Kurt’s incredibly dense and solid orbs barely even deformed in the Russian’s big hands. The silver-haired soldier squeezed harder and then harder still, his knuckles turning white and his jaw clenching in fury and concentration. Kurt’s screaming nuts contorted more and more, distorting grotesquely within the Russian’s vise-like grasp, but simply refused to break! Even more of his thick and gelatinous cum, mixed with a surprisingly small amount of blood, was being forced out of the dozens of puncture holes in his wounded and mangled bollocks, dripping in thick clots and chunks to the forest floor below. Damn, Kurt’s bulging ballsac looked like a huge, fleshy sieve, leaking his manly juices in every direction! But Kurt continued to prove his prime Marine alpha bull status by enduring even THIS horrific abuse without talking!
Suddenly, with the speed of a spitting cobra, the big Russian flashed his large knife and brought the deadly blade right up beneath the hideously stretched out nutsac! The blade stopped a mere few millimeters from the elongated neck of Kurt’s straining ball bag, poised at any moment to sever the all-important cord, cables, and blood vessels that connected those most massive of baby makers to the stud’s magnificent body! My God, the crazy Russian was about to castrate my gorgeous bull, and turn him into an impotent steer right before my very eyes!!!
“You insolent Marine grunt!! I can cut these filthy, disgusting, oversized bollocks off of you in an instant!! I can turn you into something less than a man, something less than a soldier!! NOW TELL ME WHERE ARE THE REST OF YOUR TROOPS!!!”
“Do your worst, you psychopathic FUCK!” Kurt calmly replied, as if the continued existence of his very manhood wasn’t in immediate and deadly peril. “I’m not telling you shit!”
The furious Russian brutally yanked Kurt’s heroically straining nuts even FURTHER from his aching crotch, very nearly ripping them right off of his body, and prepared to make the swift upward slice that would end the bull stud’s epic alpha male status forever. The large knife hovered there for a seeming eternity, barely more than a hairsbreadth from Kurt’s heroically straining sac, the razor-sharp blade visibly quivering slightly for the Russian’s obvious fury. But at the last moment, he seemed to reconsider, a wicked smile playing across his rugged features.
“No, I think I have a better idea for a man as hugely hung as you!” the Commie said before finally releasing Kurt’s tortured nuts, which rocketed back upward towards his crotch like a sling shot and rapidly inflated back into their plump, fat, ovoid shapes. I could see the white indentations of the Commie’s fingers on the surfaces of both angry red orbs for several seconds more, as blood rushed back into the partially crushed tissues. I wanted to sob at the brutal punishment that the evil Russian was inflicting on my gorgeous Marine bull, but was terrified that my emotional reaction would only result in even greater punishments being meted out on the handsome muscle stud.
The big brute barked another series of sharp orders at his two goons, and the pair muscled a large, flat tree stump directly beneath the bound bull, right between the titanically muscular columns of his ultra powerful thighs. Kurt’s huge, hairy, and supremely low-hanging nuts nearly brushed the top of the big stump, and his spectacular 18-inch horse cock throbbed veiny and huge overhead. My heart hammered inside my chest as I wondered what new horror was about to be visited upon my long-suffering Marine bull!
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