BDSM Library - Story: On Duty, Chapter: Part 1

On Call

by Emile

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He felt her hand wrap around his pulsing dick, making it strain against her fingers. "Not now baby" he whispered, but his cock responded 'Yes'. "Please Pedro you've been gone so long, and in a few days I'll be unclean..." His cock was spitting precum now, soaking a growing wet patch into the threadbare sheets. They'd sent him home deliberately when his wife was on heat, knowing it had been 3 months since his last visit, 3 months since he'd last cum. His churning bull balls were so full of cum it practically leaked out, and if he came in her now, they'd have another kid for sure - number six. Five boys so far, and they were dirt poor. Only their desperation kept him going back, and they paid barely enough to keep them clothed and fed as it was.

Her fingers fluttered down the hard sticky shaft, lightly squeezing the metal cockring that tightly cinched the root, its twin around his ballsac now jammed tightly against it, as his nuts tightened in preparation. They made him wear it to keep him hard, frustratingly on edge, constantly. The second ring kept his ballsac swinging low and painful, and made cumming more difficult, since it couldn't fully retract. "Why do they make you wear this?" she whispered. The prefuck squirting regularly now made the young gaucho's breath ragged. "I told you baby, its a tracking device - so they can find me if enemies get me..." It was a white lie, his Catholic guilt kept him lying outright, just as hers kept her from any protection during sex. It was a tracking device, just like the watch and ring on his hands, and if he took any of them off, they would whip him away in minutes. He put his hand on her wrist to pull her stroking fingers away, and felt a dull tickle of electricity. The devices also reacted if they came too close - so if either of his hands so much as brushed his dick, he would be writhing on the floor in agony. As it was, the indirect touch was unpleasant, but at least it cooled his aching cock a little. Her hand wandered up from his crotch, across his hard, smooth belly and across his bulging chest. Once it had been covered in a thick sprinkling of hair, fanning out to his pits and arching down to his cock. They made him shave it, at first, and then pluck out new hairs as they grew - every morning - until now none grew back from his cock to his neck. She liked his smooth body, playing with his pouty nipples, but it made him feel emasculated, not a man but a man-slave, something they reminded him of often.

The cooling juice on the sheet was sticking to his cockshaft, and he was still horny as hell. "Hey baby, if you wanna ... you could always, you know, maybe lick it...?" An angry look flashed over her dark eyes. "You know that's wrong." Damned Catholic teaching. He'd thought the same once, that oral (not to mention anal) sex was a sin. But in his years of service, he'd done both, too many times to recall. His jaw ached in church on Sundays, from the head he gave during their Saturday night parties, and his arse still burned from their 'farewell fuck'. He rolled over sideways, his torso rippling like silk over a grill, which was close to the truth since his hard body was now burning with a sheen of horny sweat. He propped himself on one burly arm, exaggerating the V taper from his shoulders down to his tight waist, where his leaking dick wouldn't quit. "Come on baby, just this once?" Shyly, she nodded, and he rolled onto his back, so she could descend on his throbbing, tumescent cock.

Her lips had barely enveloped the crown of his dick, when the chopper blades sounded, brilliant light shining through the open window. She jerked back, a string of prefuck extending from her mouth to the pulsing dicklips, as the door burst open, the general striding in. The covers were caught under their bodies, and five or six troops got a good look at the naked couple before she managed to pull the sheets over their honey coloured bodies, made even harder as he scrambled out of the bed, trying to simultaneously pull his pants on and salute the general. He failed at both, and as she cowered on the bed, the general came up to Pedro, so close his belt scratched at the helmet of his exposed rigid dong. "Move out private, leave is cancelled." He tried again with his pants but the general slapped them out of his hands. "No time for that private, get in the chopper." So, barearsed and shiny, he saluted and headed out at a trot, his tackle swinging to the grins of the other troops. He paused at the door, hearing his wife yell, and looked back to see two guys 'helping' her, one mauling her breast through the sheet, the others hand sliding down her back towards her arse. He burned with anger, and was torn between doubling back and rescuing her, but the general turned, and bellowed "Get in the front, NOW" and he cowered, leaving her to her own defences. He could hear his oldest son waking, and knew it wouldn't be long before the scrappy 16 year old tried to get involved. He just prayed he could avoid it.

The wind from the chopper was terrible, not just the cold on his bare body, but the dust and chaff it threw up, sticking to him like a skintight suit. Even though the chopper's belly could fit 10 men easily, and only 6 troops climbed back in, he was in the cramped front with the pilot and the returning general. The pilot said he brought good luck, and the general was happy to reward the hotshot 19 year old with Pedro whenever he could. Pedro climbed in the middle as the general got on board, straddling the wide control panel, stretching his inner thighs. It was so humiliating, the pilot always roved over his package as he reached for the controls, and now there was nothing stopping him squeezing his purple helmet every few seconds as he prepared for take off. It was making him hard all over again, his cock burping precum. The general turned towards him, lighting up a cigar. "eh Pedro looks like we got you just in time. Have we got a mission for you!"