Recent captures learn about life in the torture camp while Gus & Kurt capture and abuse another in this weeks "throwback" piece from Fledermaus and Cavelo.
Camp Alpha - Part 2 (Page 2)
by Fledermaus
Art by Cavelo
Series: Camp Alpha
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16 July 1976 0600
The dusty courtyard and rough, unpainted buildings glowed pink in the sun's first rays. Quickly the guards moved down the row of boxes that served as cells, unlocking the doors. As the sound of a whistle cut through the cool morning air, twenty seven men crawled from their boxes. Captain William Scoff watched them as they stumbled to attention straining to dispel the cramps caused by spending the night in such tight quarters.
As Scott gazed down the line of prisoners clad only in grubby khaki trousers, he remembered similar mornings in Korea when he had been the prisoner shivering in the early morning chill. Slowly he began his inspection, pausing at each man to assess his condition.
He was a highly trained psychologist and could tell much from the set of a jaw or light in an eye. Most of the prisoners looked at him defiantly. Some radiated genuine rage, while a few others plainly but silently expressed fear.
"Sergeant, where's this one?" he shouted from a gap in the line.
"Oh, sorry Sir. He's tied up this morning," Chaplain said. "White, give me a hand."
They reached into the box and pulled out a big naked stud bound hand and foot. Chaplain buried his hand in the curly red hair and dragged Sean up to the line. "We caught him talking last night." Chaplain explained to Captain Scott.
"Untie him and get him in line," Scott ordered and moved on.
At the end of the line, he looked back at the row of naked chests ranging from hairless to completely furred, but all glistening in the sun's early rays. He kept them standing at attention for several minutes then ordered them to count off and had certain numbers pace forward. He put them through about a half hour of calisthenics.
While they exercised, the cooks brought out a huge pot and trays of tin mugs. He watched their back muscles strain on the twentieth push up then ordered them to line up for breakfast, reminding them they had only ten minutes to eat.
They filed silently past the cook as he ladled a thin soup of rice and dirty water into their mugs. Those who had been at Camp Alpha for some time ate quickly and silently. But Chuck Johnson poked at the mess in his cup and spat in disgust. He started to eat, but when he saw a maggot floating among the grains of rice, he flung the cup on the ground.
"You shouldn't have done that!" said the prisoner standing next to him.
Before Chuck could look at the man who had spoken, he felt a streak of pain across his shoulders. "Pick it up, Nigger," White said. Chuck just glared at his soul brother as White again struck out with his short whip. "I said, 'Pick it up',. . Down on your knees."
Silently Chuck knelt, then White shoved him forward face down onto the ground.
"Lick it up," he said, "we don't want any wasted food here." When the black prisoner failed to respond, White planted a booted foot on the back of his head and pressed his mouth into the dusty soil. He lashed at the bare ebony shoulders with his whip and continued the flogging as he spoke. "You'd better get started because I'm going to keep whipping you until every grain of rice is cleaned up."
The cup shook in Lance's hand. His whole body trembled in rage and fear as he watched the black guard who had raped his mouth last night now slash at Chuck's shoulders and watched the black man's red tongue blacken from the dirt as he lapped up the grains of rice. He felt a warm hand on his bare shoulder and a voice in his ear. "Careful, kid, you'll spill your breakfast. Then that black son of a bitch will have you eating off the ground."
"I don't want it," Lance responded to the slightly stocky prisoner standing next to him. "It's full of worms. I can't eat this slop."
"You'd better eat it," Tony said softly "It's all you're going to get until tonight and you'll need it. Just close your eyes and eat."
"What are they going to do with us?" Lance asked.
"You're new, aren't you? You and that stubborn tool," he said motioning toward the black man now lying quietly in the dirt, his back and shoulders criss-crossed with red streaks. "Came in together yesterday didn't you?"
"Yeah, they caught us yesterday afternoon."
"I'm Tony Filipo. Welcome to, to quote my letter of acceptance to this hell hole, a unique opportunity to test your fortitude and endurance in the most stringent of environments potentially facing a special services officer'."
"Yeah," Lance said closing his eyes to down the last of the soup in his mug, "that's what mine said too. To think I actually volunteered for this!"
The whistle sounded and the men lined up again, then Captain Scott ordered them to march. At the base of the mountain behind camp they paused.
"Today's project is to move that pile," Will said, pointing to a large mound of small boulders, "to that ravine over there. Now get with it. Laggers will be punished. Sergeant Chaplain, take charge."
"Why?" Lance asked Tony as they moved towards the boulder pile. "Why do they want these moved?"
"To keep us busy that's all. Just to give us hard labor. Yesterday we moved them from a ridge up the mountain slope to this pile. Tomorrow we'll probably have to move them back up the mountain."
As the sun rose higher in the sky the baked grimy backs and chests glistened with sweat. Muscles tensed and strained to move the rocks and occasionally Chaplain or White stung the exposed skin with their whips.
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"God damn that sun!" Gus thought as he removed his hat and wiped away the perspiration that kept dripping into his eyes. He and Kurt had been searching the rough terrain all morning.
"The colonel said this guy would be a rough one to capture and he was right!" the blond said, coming up to Gus.
"Damn shit! I guess he would be if he evaded the gooks for so long in Laos. I think we ought to rest a while to give him time to make a mistake so we can pick up his track."
"No argument. Let's head for that little spring over the next ridge."
At the spring both drank deeply of the cool water. "That just looks too inviting. I'm going to cool off," Kurt said stripping off his sweat soaked uniform and slipping into the tiny pool. "Come on in, the water's fine."
As he slowly removed his own clothes, Gus admired his friend's slim but lithe body. "How do you stay so damned white?" he asked. "I thought blondes were supposed to sunburn."
Kurt sat in the shallow water and splashed the cool liquid up over the golden down on his pale chest. "I just keep my shirt and hat on. If I were to go around stripped to the waist the way you do all the time, I'd look like a boiled lobster.
"You're just too delicate." Gus laughed giving Kurt a shove backwards. "We Mediterranean types are more robust. We can take it."
"Fuck you!" Kurt shouted back, diving for Gus's ankles. The two tumbled and roughhoused in the water like children. When both were exhausted, they stretched out on a large flat rock near the pool.
"How do you like Camp Alpha?" Kurt asked after a brief silence.
"I don't know" Gus answered seriously "At first I didn't go for it at all. I just couldn't be as mean as I was supposed to be, even for a good cause. But now. . . I don't know I. .
"Yeah, I know what you mean. The first day I was here I was assigned to the rock pile. Chaplain made a guy drop his pants and grab his ankles. Then he handed me a strap and told me to whip the guy's ass.
"I almost told Chaplain to go screw himself, but I tapped the guy's ass with the strap. Chaplain kept hollering at me to hit him harder and finally I was so mad at Chaplain I was really flogging the poor tucker's butt. His nuts were hanging down between his thighs and at first I tried my best to avoid hitting them. But then I began wondering what the guy would do it I were to connect my strap with his balls. Then I couldn't resist the urge any longer and I let him have it right in the nuts."
Gus brought up his knees in an attempt to conceal the column that was stiffening between his legs.
"What did he do?"
"He screamed bloody murder," Kurt said. "He'd been moaning while I flogged his ass, but when I hit his nuts, he shrieked like a stuck pig and collapsed."
"Then what happened?" Gus asked, glad to see that his was not the only cock hardening as they pictured the beaten prisoner.
"Chaplain left me to watch the rest of the prisoners and he marched the stud I'd flogged to the interrogation shed."
"Did it turn you on?" Gus asked haltingly.
"Yeah, yeah it turned me on. I'd just whipped a guy's ass and my cock was harder than hell in my pants leg. And it didn't let up. The rest of the afternoon watched those guys' bare backs straining to carry the rocks. I kept looking at their asses and crotches and kept wishing one of them would give me an excuse to hit him with the whip. Then you know what I did?"
"No." Gus whispered hoarsely, "What?"
"I went back to the barracks," Kurt said as he fondled his now rigid column, "I went back and jacked oft."
Gus moaned as he pulled the foreskin back from his own throbbing cockhead. The two men lay in silence for a few moments, side by side, thighs and shoulders touching, both gently massaging their swollen cocks. Kurt moved his hand across Gus's thigh and encircled the thick olive skinned cock with one of his fingers.
"Let me," he said. Shudders of pleasure rippled through Gus's body as he felt the blond's hand encircle his throbbing manhood. He closed his eyes and pictured the big redhead's straining bare back as Kurt's other hand caressed his chest, pulled gently at the curly black hair around his navel and pinched his nipples.
With his own hand he searched out and found his friend's long thin rod. "Last night," he said, "as I was on my way to tower duty in the yard, saw White fucking that new kid they brought in yesterday. Chaplain was holding the kneeling kid's head and White was driving his black cock in and out of the kid's mouth. It got me so hot I wanted to-"
Suddenly both hands stopped and both heads turned to seek out the source of the noise they had heard. "It's him!" Kurt shouted jumping to his feet. "The son of the bitch we're after, and he just took our clothes!"
Both of them took off after the form now disappearing through the brush. Naked they ran, rocks digging into bare feet and branches scratching their unprotected skin. Their quarry dropped their clothes but they didn't stop to retrieve them. Slowly they gained and finally with a flying leap, Gus tackled the guy's legs. The captive struggled to free himself, but Kurt planted a knee in the center of his back and, burying his hand in the guy's long black hair, jerked his head back at a right angle to his body.
"Get his belt to tie his hands with." When his hands were finally pinned behind his back, they pulled their prisoner to his feet and turned him around.
"Damn," Kurt swore, "no wonder he lasted for two years in Laos. He's a gook!"
"Like shit!" Their prisoner snapped defiantly "I'm Thai and I'm American, and don't you queers forget it!"
Kurt's fist connected with the side of the prisoner's face followed a fraction of a second later by Gus's massive fist driving into his gut. He moaned and crumpled to the ground.
"Watch your language, you yellow turd!" Kurt spat out, pulling the guy to his feet. "Let's take him back to the spring."
Gus had a long scrape on the inside of his thigh created by a rock during his tackle and both of the nude guards were covered with scratches and small cuts gathered during their mad dash through the brush.
"You're a mess," Kurt observed to his companion.
"You're not much better. Let's get cleaned up before we dress. What can we use to tie him up?"
"His clothes. Let's strip him and tear up his pants and shirts to use. He won't need them where he's going."
The prisoner stood stoically as they ripped off his shirt, exposing a broad hairless chest with satiny smooth skin and small, widely spaced nipples.
"He's big for an Oriental." Gus said admiring the guy's broad shoulders.
"He's not so little here either," Kurt said pointing to the long flaccid cock hanging from a bush of curly black hair between smooth muscular thighs.
With strips from his clothes, they bound his wrists together behind him, then after making him kneel, they bound his ankles and attached the wrists to the ankles.
With another strip from his pants leg, they bound his neck to a tree and left him kneeling before it. Again they washed up in the pool.
As Gus began to put his uniform back on, Kurt hollered for him to hold it.
"It's not fair," he said, "we're both covered with scratches and there's not a mark on him."
"You're right," Gus said, dropping his shirt. "I think he needs equal treatment." He fumbled in his pants pocket and drew out a large pocket knife, opening the long blade as he approached the bound prisoner.
The almond shaped eyes opened wide as they watched the knife come closer then closed with relief when Gus reached above the captive's head and cut some branches from the tree. Gus stripped the leaves and twigs off two long supple switches and gave one to Kurt.
They took turns lashing their captive's chest, belly and thighs until his smooth skin was as red streaked as theirs. The prisoner kept his eyes closed and his mouth shut throughout the flogging, but the muscles of his face twitched in pain each time the switches lashed against him.
But the two guards thoroughly enjoyed the flogging - as was evidenced by the hard cocks sticking straight from their taut abdomens.
"What were you saying when we were so rudely interrupted?" Kurt asked.
"I was saying," Gus said fondling his rigid rod, "how much I'd enjoy ramming this down a guy's throat. And it looks like I just got my opportunity Open your mouth, cock sucker!"
When the Oriental failed to obey Kurt slashed at the prisoner's crotch with his switch. "He said, 'open up'."
The clenched jaws opened in a gasp as the switch cut the tender cockhead, but it was immediately filled with Gus's pulsating flesh. Gus pressed his hips against the bound guy's face forcing his huge tool down the unwilling throat. Then he withdrew it most of the way and rammed savagely again.
Kurt watched the olive skinned hips in fascination as they established an undulating rhythm. He massaged his own throbbing cock to the same rhythm as he raised his switch and brought it down across Gus's butt.
Gus inhaled sharply at the surprise and pain of Kurt's switch but he didn't stop. As Kurt continued to whip his ass, he became more and more excited. The tight throat enclosing his cock and the searing slashes at his ass blended into a strangely pleasurable high. He buried his fingers in the Oriental's hair and pulled, jerking violently as his spurts of hot cum shot down the guy's throat.
As the last bit of cum dribbled from Gus's rapidly softening cock, Kurt shoved him aside, pushing his own rod towards the Oriental's mouth.
But it was too late. A great blob of sticky white cum shot from Kurt's cock and hit an almond eye. Kurt continued to shoot until the Oriental's face was covered with his jism.
The two exhausted guards stumbled to the pool and sitting in the water, they rested. For a third time, they cleaned the sweat and dirt from their bodies and then returned to their prisoner.
"His face is dirty" Gus observed.
"Yeah, I wonder how it got that way?" Kurt laughed.
"I think we ought to wash it for him," Gus said, fondling his now limp cock.
Kurt looked puzzled until a stream of piss emptied from the Greek's cock and struck the prisoner's face. Then laughing, he directed his own stream of hot yellow liquid over the cum splattered countenance.
After the two were back in their uniforms, they released the prisoner from the tree. They freed his ankles but left his wrists tied behind him. They tied a strip of cloth around his neck, and pulling his arms up into the center of his back, tied them to the strip around his neck. Finally they tied the end of a long strip around the base of his cock and balls. Gus held the other end of this like a leash.
They walked back to camp single file with the naked prisoner between them. Occasionally Gus would jerk on the strip tied to the guy's nuts or Kurt would use his switch on the nicely rounded, firm butt.