Excerpt from “Seized Seamen”

Two Navy sailors caught in the act of breaking the strict “no homosexual activity” policy are publicly punished and humiliated in a very creative fashion. A hot excerpt from Hunter Gage’s Amazon ebook!

Excerpt from “Seized Seamen”
by Hunter Gage
Download the full book on Amazon

seized-seamenFucking was difficult here. Not only because of the lack of privacy but the occasional rocking of the ship. Alvaro had been in the throws of some heavy foreplay with his fellow seaman Karam for nearly half an hour when the ship hit rough seas.

Undeterred and indulging his raging libido, he lubed up his cock, flipped Karam on his stomach, and jabbed his pecker between his muscular cheeks. “Aagggh, take it easy!” Karam whispered loudly, wincing. This was their first time going all the way after flirting for weeks.

The two met early on after recruitment and the beginning of their 4 year minimum term. Alvaro had immigrated from El Salvador when he was 18, right after high school. Now 24, he now stood 6’1”—tall for a Latino—with smooth golden skin and a statuesque build, his once long-ish hair reduced to a buzz cut that only accentuated his smolderingly handsome face.

Before they ever spoke, he felt a bit queasy when Karam caught him stealing glances. If someone looks twice it’s coincidence, but three times or more, and a guy is into you he’d always heard. Besides his beautiful goatee’d face, Alvaro’s gaze was drawn to Karam’s muscular, somewhat veiny, forearms under the tight pushed up sleeves of a thin black sweater.

Karam was born to Syrian parents in New Jersey and didn’t have the citizenship challenges Alvaro did. At 25, his dreams of starting his own business had fizzled, and he turned to the Navy for a career reboot.

For many years, the gym had been his way to deal with stress, and the results were reflected in his physique. Years of regular working out had transformed Karam into a chiseled 5’ 11” Adonis, with a skin tone a bit lighter than Alvaro’s.

Both attracted to men since puberty, neither could remember who started flirting with whom, but their initial hormonal attraction grew into a relationship. Despite the repeal of “Don’t Ask. Don’t Tell” and DOMA a few decades before, both kept their romance on the downlow.

The current state of the Navy was less gay-friendly than in the recent past. All branches of the military were now coercing seamen, male or female, to forego homosexual relations in favor of masturbation in order to boost trust and confidence amongst each other and push soldiers to focus on duties. The thinking seemed to be that everyone would be more comfortable not knowing who was gay and imagining that there was no same sex attraction on board.

The Navy had acquired a few of now famous inventor Teren Biggs’ cock milking machines (the new self-service model) and placed them near the sauna and steam room area of the ship’s gym. These were intended to be an alternate private source of sexual relief—to keep jerking off from becoming boring. Part of Navy boot camp training included a strict warning about homosexual behavior while on board and a mention of the availability of these machines. Gay and straight males alike were encouraged to use them.

“Holy fuck. Look what we have here!” Karam’s asshole roommate Mick bellowed as he burst into their shared room. Each of the distracted lovers had assumed the other locked the door, but in the heat of the anticipation of their first fuck, both had forgotten the precaution.

Mick had long had it out for Karam. In his mind, all middle-Easterners were a threat to the safety of the US. And despite Karam’s attempts since day one to assuage Mick’s irritation and suspicion and diffuse his regular bullying, he remained an enemy to Karam.

“Mick, wait! You don’t understand. We…” Karam trailed off as Mick interrupted. “Oh, this is choice. You’ll be strung up for this, Private. Ha ha ha!” He turned and headed out to find Ensign Newell.

“Dammit, I thought you locked the door?” he scolded Alvaro. “I thought you did—it’s your room!” Alvaro snapped. “Hurry up; get dressed. I don’t know what the punishment is exactly for being caught, but let’s at least get away from here,” Karam said as he dragged his jeans on.

Before Alvaro could button up his white fitted shirt or Karam could get anything but his pants on, the Masters at Arms (MA’s) appeared and were seizing them. “Hey! Geez, guys…!” Karam sputtered wondering how they could be so quick on the draw and why this effort can’t be spent on something more worthwhile.

Several fellow seamen (all heading the same way the MA’s and their helpless detainees were) stole glances at Karam’s body. Even for straight men, it was impressive and distracting. Six-pack abs and hair from his trail to his perfectly defined pecs.

“Come on. Can’t you look the other way on this?” Alvaro pleaded as they were forcefully led down the hall. “Pipe down you two, and take this like men,” one of the two MA’s punned.

The two offenders were escorted into a large meeting room, and the MA’s shut the door. “How did they assemble everyone so fast?” Kareem whispered to Alvaro. The room was full of their fellow male first-year recruits who sat on either side of two elevated large pieces of equipment in the middle.

The leadership aboard this vessel felt that humiliation of those in violation would not only change their behavior but that making it into a public spectacle would drive home compliance among those viewing the punishment—teach everyone a lesson.

“Mr. Gonzales and Mr. Maroun,” Ensign Newell began softly, “You two are the first this year to break this ship’s homosexual behavior rule. In your training, you were warned not to indulge such intimacies, and you were made aware of the special equipment made available to you to help satisfy such urges.”

“But we…” Alvaro interrupted. “Quiet! You will not speak unless asked,” Newell continued. “And for that, you will be the first to be taught a lesson. Your fellow recruits have been assembled so all can see that this division of the Navy is serious about our policies. What you both will endure is the consequence for your violation. “Strip’m, and load’m in,” he commanded the MA’s with a nod toward the machines.

Six more MA’s strode forward. Two held each young man tight while the others tugged at their clothes. This was the beginning of the breakdown of their dignity. Both struggled, and Karam began to flail. “Don’t fight this, son. If you do I’ll keep you in the machine longer,” the Ensign snapped.

All the way down to their feet the young men were undressed. Karam’s balls swung wildly as the MA’s hustled him forward and up some steps to the platform where two custom made machines sat. His nuts were as large as golf balls, and his scrotum, when warm and relaxed, hung about one inch below the head of his soft cock.

For the past several years Karam had moved beyond regular firm tugging on his nuts to hours wearing metal ball weights in order to satisfy his obsession for low-hangers. He’d first run across the concept about 5 years ago when he began to explore some fetish porn. The combination of hand work and regular stretching by 2 pounds of chrome plated steel had nearly achieved what so turned him on.

He loved that Alvaro could nuzzle up with his face under his ball sack, and bite down on it separating his testicles from his taint. Without a stitch of clothing on, the room was a little cold for his balls, and soon they drew up as far as they could. Never again would they be able to neatly tuck themselves at the base of his cock. All the scrotal stretching had changed any chance of that.

“Damn, what is this, a boxing match,” Alvaro muttered under his breath as flood lights lit up the platform and the room dimmed. Each of them was walked into the machine and thrust against the back panel. It was flat, white metal, and about seven feet tall. The MA’s proceed to lock their hands into fist-covering restraints above their heads and swung shackles shut over their ankles.

This positioning spread their legs and aligned their crotches with a slit in an abs-high short panel directly in front of them parallel to the restraint “back wall.” As each began to struggle, a space between their legs in the back wall opened with a hiss, and its small doors parted left and right like in some sci-fi movie.

At the sound, Karam looked down just in time to catch a glance of what would happen next. Two black nylon loops emerged, snagging a ball in each, and pulled back to secure their nuts. “What the fuck!?” Alvaro yelped, not having noticed until he felt what just happened.

“Boys, those are to keep your balls safe during the next part of the process,” Newell explained pushing a few buttons on the remote control station at the bottom of the platform as the MA’s exited each machine. Slowly the back walls moved them forward toward short panels in front of them and stood-by.

“Ok, recruits,” the Ensign began, grabbing a nearby PA mic to address the crowd, “Following rules and protocol on this ship is of utmost importance as you should know from your basic training and handbook. You’ve been gathered here to witness what happens to those who are caught violating our prohibition of homosexual relations on this ship.”

About 40 men were seated on each side of the platform. The machines were positioned back to back affording a profile view of anyone strapped in, and there were two large LED screens, one on each wall. This treatment was new to all but a few of the men in the room since most in attendance were this year’s batch of recruits.

Ensign Newell turned a dial, and both prisoners of the machines heard suction in front of them—a sound like a vacuum cleaner fitted with a crevice tool—air moving with amplified force. The three inch horizontal slit, looking something like a Real Touch (realtouchinteractive.com) directly in front of their crotches began to hiss.

“What are the screens for,” asked Eddie, Mick’s hall-neighbor and friend, a 20-year old from Kansas. “You’ll see; just wait,” Mick whispered with a grin. About that time both monitors flickered to life beginning with close ups of Karam & Alvaro’s soft cocks.

Suddenly each young man’s penis was snatched forward and through the slit with such force he thought it might tear it off. “Ufff; what the fuck!?” Karam blurted, trying to keep quiet at the risk of being tormented longer.

Fast moving rollers set perpendicular to anything inserted quickly drew their peckers deeply into the equipment, stretching them to their maximum flaccid lengths before stopping, gripping, and clamping down.

The screens reduced the view of each man’s face to an inset with the main display cutting to the view inside the machines. Waterproof microcams and lighting were mounted near the rollers giving a close up view of what the machines do.

“Shit!” Eddie muttered. “Yeah bro. Watch this,” Mick snickered. The Ensign turned the dial to the next notch, and the rollers began to undulate up and down in rhythm, massaging and kneading each detainee’s dick.

The machines were intelligent. Sensing the length of the cock inserted, the roller positioned under the glans received a shot of lube and began to spin but this time a bit slower than the initial snatch-and-stretch phase. Next, it pressed up slightly digging into the frenum.

This part of the cycle was programmed to force the detainee, no matter how nervous or angry, to become erect. And boy, how it worked. “Aaaaauuuuggghhh!” Alvaro moaned, head back and hands balled into fists under the upper restraints. Karam grit his teeth and squirmed, shifting his hips.

The eyes of everyone in the room were glued to the monitors watching the cock manipulation inflicted on two stunning specimens. In seconds, both of their cocks swelled, forcing the rollers apart as they continued their massaging assaults. Sensors measured the full size of each man’s erection; that information overlaid the video displays at the lower right corner. About 5 minutes had passed, everything quiet save for the sound of the machines at work and the anguished cries of both men being stimulated by them.

More men in the audience than you’d think, both gay and curious, struggled to suppress or hide growing bulges, their heart rates (and underwear) rising from this intense and rousing experience.

Sensors in the parts of the machines in contact with each seaman’s cock and wrists were designed to sense the imminence of orgasm and make adjustments in order to maximize the phallic reprimand of anyone at their mercy—edge them, if you will. The roller in Alvaro’s machine stopped first, then Karam’s not long after. After about 5 minutes, the massage action ceased.

“Maybe it’s over. Maybe they’ll let us go,” Karam thought. Both were breathing hard, their muscular pecs heaving as their hearts raced from both the humiliation and the pleasure forced on their helpless organs.

That was far from the end of what lay in store for these captives.

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