A muscular black Marine is betrayed and falls into enemy hands where he is subjected sexual abuse and a painful interrogation session in this story from Blackjack.
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Declan's Capture
by Blackjack
Series: Declan
His body lay on the dusty concrete floor of the abandoned car park. His uniform was torn almost of all the shirt was ripped off. This revealed a well-developed chest, hours of work in the gymnasium were there on display. The khaki brown of the uniform complimented his creamy brown tones. The almost purple nipple of his left breast was completely exposed, as was several muscles of his six pack abdominals. His head felt fuzzy, and his vision was blurred, his senses were rendered ineffective.
Two Iraqi boy’s not much younger than Declan came out of the deep shadows to the rear of the car park. Declan could not see them until they were almost staring him in the face. He heard a drone, as the two boys chanted as they danced around his limp body. He lay there still as he could; he soon felt soft tapping in his back region, the tapping increased in volume and strength. The foreign sounds of Arabic language filled Declan’s ears.
It was not long before the sound of a heavier trudging broke through his ears. The depth of the voices indicated that whoever was approaching was slightly older than the teenagers, who were probably more curious than anything else. A voice got louder as Declan could feel the waft of breath near his ear then he felt pain as leather clad boots began to pound his back and side. He felt his helmet come off and the butt of the weapon strike his face. A hand grasped around his wrists and began to slowly drag the six foot 188 pound body forward. By now Declan was drifting in and out of consciousness, it was during one of these waking moments he heard a voice. He was relieved to hear an American voice.
One man down,’ said the voice ‘rear of an abandoned car park sector d.’
Declan then heard a shot ring out, he felt a spatter on his arm then he lost consciousness again.
Five soldiers arrived, ‘over here!’ cried the marine who had found the body.
More shots rang out, people were shouting in both Arabic and English as Declan’s limp form was being fought over and argued about.
‘American pigs,’ a broken English voice yelled as a fire fight ensued.
Declan heard a voice in one of his more lucid moments, ‘Oh god,’ he thought ‘that’s Fleishman.’ Declan was both worried and relieved his nemesis since high school was now in a position to save his life. Would Fleishman have it in him to step up to the plate? Declan was determined not to lapse into unconsciousness again. He heard a thumping of heavy feet. The noise seemed to come from behind him.
‘OH lord no not again,’ he thought ‘more wog Arabs comin’ to pound me again.’
But this time there were to be no boots or moccasins kicking him. He felt a hand thrust up under his crotch; the other lifted his arm as it was slung over a shoulder. Declan knew by the fell of his rescuers skin that it was a fellow black man. He opened an eye and saw the ground. It seemed to be speeding underneath him. He saw also the back of military boots, one disappearing the other coming with in full view.
‘There you go trooper,’ a familiar voice said as Declan was laid down.
‘Omar is that you…?’
‘Take it easy son,’ the smooth southern voice of Omar Bailey was like sweet music to Declan’s ears.
The youngster called Omar let Declan down gently ‘medic, medic over here,’ Omar cried out. His immature sounding voice barely rose above the hubbub. But eventually two medics arrived. Declan felt hands grappling his mid riff pushing and squeezing pain then no pain.
‘Take a look at his arm,’’ a young man about twenty five yelled.
‘It’s Ok it’s not my blood,’ said Declan as a pair of boots swished passed his head. He felt a pain shoot through his shoulder.
‘What are you doing with my boy?’ shrieked Fleishman. Fleishman a tall skinny guy hovered around the scene of controlled chaos.
‘We’d better get him back to base and better medical facilities,’ the twenty five year old man said.
‘Ok on the count of three one two three,’ Declan was rolled onto a stretcher and carried by four other soldiers. The ambulance rushed Declan to the base some twelve miles to the east away from the intense fighting.
“It’ll be OK Declan you will be alright,” the medic said as he leant over his mouth close to Declan’s ear. “Who was that white boy anyway?” the medic asked.
“Oh he was an old adversary of mine at school,” Declan replied.
“Man you want to stand up for yourself you should be a strong proud black man, stand up to the white boy nigga,” the medic frowned and stared at Declan. “Come on kid let’s get you better.” The medic pushed the trolley through the swing doors Declan heard footsteps soon he saw a doctor wearing a mask.
“Hi Declan we are just going to remove what’s left of the bullet in your shoulder and clean a few things up. Declan saw the figure of a nurse she was holding a syringe. “Just a little jab there, you’ll feel a little prick,” the doctor said. Declan rolled over onto his side and felt the jab on his lower buttock. Declan fell asleep as the Doctor removed the shrapnel and cleaned out his shoulder.
**************
Declan had been recovering for two days. The rest had refreshed him up and his shoulder felt good. He lay back on the bed and relaxed as he was ordered to. He was unaware of was about to happen. That evening Doctor Ford sat behind his desk reviewing the notes of a case he been assigned. There was a “knock, knock,” at the door.
“Come in,” he said. The door opened and Fleishman entered the office.
“I have a proposal for you,” Fleishman said “I’ll pay you five thousand if do you me favour.”
What is it you want me to do?” Doctor Ford replied his curiosity was aroused by the mention of Five Thousand dollars.
“You have a young boy in your hospital unit. His name is Declan Simpson,” Fleishman leant on the desk his face just inches from the doctor.
“Yes,” the doctor said as he leant forward so that their noses were barely touching.
“I want you to give Simpson an injection then I want you to hand him over to me,” Fleishman’s face screwed up his lips snarled and turned up at the sides.
“So you think Simpson is worth five grand?” the doctor chuckled “and why do you want him?”
“It’s just a surprise we have for him,” Fleishman replied “I’ve known young Simpson for some time you see. We err were at school together.”
“Well you probably have to come up with a better reason than that, I mean five G is an interesting proposition but I have ethics and a Hippocratic Oath to up hold,” the doctor replied.
“Well,” Fleishman said rubbing his chin “I could probably find another doctor or nurse who could … well just say five G could go a long way for a nurse.” There was a pause the silence lasted for seemed hours. “I can make it ten or may be fifteen G,” Fleishman said as he smiled.
“Look I don’t want any part of this you can keep your dirty money, but if you do this I’ll turn a blind eye and if you get found out I’ll deny everything OK." the doctor said with venom in his voice. “Oh and may be you could donate your stinking fifteen grand to Doctors without Boarders.”
“OK agreed,” Fleishman nodded and put a hand out “shake on it,” the doctor shook Fleishman’s hand and went back to his paper work. Fleishman slinked off disappearing into the inky night.
It was three o’clock and the doctor entered the building that housed the recovery unit, “Good morning Declan,” he said. Declan just slept. “Hey wake up I need to give you an injection,” the doctor said shaking Declan by the shoulders.
“UH what is it?” Declan’s voice was deep but had a mahogany mellowness to it.
“I want you to roll over,” the doctor ordered “I need to give you an injection penicillin.” Doctor Ford pushed the end of the syringe and a small spurt of liquid shot out. “Now let me just…” the doctor slowly pulled the back of Declan’s pajama pants down revealing a caramel ass cheek. The doctor stroked the projecting ass.
“What.. what…” the needle penetrated Declan’s ass . Declan rolled back over but was soon asleep. Declan did not hear the three troopers come in and strip his bed attire off him. They pulled up his army pants but they let a bit of ass crack show.
“Oh,” Declan moaned as he felt his shoulders and arms aching. His knees hurt as his position became clear. His arms were held up to the top of the wire inlay on the truck, his knees not quite on the floor nor were they straight. The truck rattled along the dirt road bouncing up and down and rearing up and down from the pot holes. The truck eventually stopped.
"This is where we say good bye Declan,” the voice was all too familiar. “But before you leave us I want to give you one parting gift.” Fleishman stood up in front of Declan who was stripped to the waist. “Good luck and good bye my bully prey,” said Fleishman as he gut punched Declan. Slap, slap, slap it went on and on Declan’s abs was getting red and sore. “Anyone else want to say good bye to Declan.
“Let me,” said Frazer. Frazier was a body builder type who loved the gym, he treated it like it was his second home. The pounding continued until Declan passed out. Two soldiers got out the truck and let down the back board. There was a thud as Declan’s limp body hit the dirt ground Declan moaned but his protestations just met with kicks to his naked torso.
***************
Declan's shoulders stung and felt like they were burning. He was chained at the wrists and they rose above his head. His naked light brown colored body hung limpy and from time to time his 188 pounds of muscle wently swung to and fro. His was swinging from a rafter but he for the time being was oblivious to the world around him. He shook his head only for it to roll lazily forward. He could hear muffled voices behind him but he could not hear what they were saying. He was partially aware of his nakedness, but this was confirmed when he felt a hand slap his rounded cheeks. His was not prepared however for what was about to hit him. He half opened a wary eye as he felt a rough hand touching his developing muscular body. A face grinned up at him as a hand slipped down to his manhood.
“Arrghh,” he groaned as the hand slithered along his full eight inches. The stroking lasted at least ten minutes and it began to excite the African American soldier. The stroking went on until Declan could control himself no more. A blob of precum appeared as the rough hand continued its job.
“Don’t worry American boy,” the man’s broken English told Declan that he was firmly in the hands of the enemy. Declan heard chuckling and felt something hard and cold bite into his balls. He felt something tapping his face.
“Wake up American Boy,” the accent was definitely Afghan. Declan felt a hand on his ass it gently rubbed up down on the soft flesh of buttock cheek.
“Uggh!” Declan gasped as fingers entered his ass and pushed up against his prostate but he effect it had roused his manhood even more. Declan could hear the man stood next him talking in Farsi. Declan felt the hand move away and the Afghan man stepped to one side. There was a buzzing noise and a pain shot through Declan’s balls and groin.
“Tells us what your American plans are for this region,” the mustachioed man lent over and looked up at Declan. “Tell us,” the man shouted as he twisted a clenched fist into Declan’s bruised side. Declan did not have time to reflect or react as another shot of electricity burst through his balls, this time the shock was stronger and made Declan jig about. His dick wobbled violently but it did not come to rest as the shock provoked Declan’s dick into attention mode. Declan had not realized that the wobbling from the shock had produced some pre cum. All the same his body ached his arms were beginning to sting and ache.
“Tell me American Boy what your plans?” the Afghani man roared.
“I don’t know I am just a soldier,” Declan moaned. He felt something whack his almost up right dick. It stung. He heard a whistling noise then whack. His nine and a half inch phallus throbbed at the pain. “Private Simpson four, zero, two, three four, four,” Declan muttered. His head hung down his chin resting on his chest. He heard the footsteps move behind him then whack on his soft tender cheeks. He wriggled as best he could but all that happened was the rattling of the chains.
“I…I… I told you I ‘am Simpson Declan four, zero, two, three four, four,” Declan stuttered as there was a whistling noise and a slap that stung his dick. The pain was almost too much to bear. Declan could hear the antagonists talking in a foreign language but as the next blow caressed his phallus he lost consciousness.
Declan felt some one slapping his face “wake up American, wake up.” The voice bellowed. Declan blinked he felt the slap, slap, but his mind faded into darkness. His head dipped as he slipped into an unconscious state. But he was rudely awoken when a bucket of cold water doused his face, head and body. The cold water dripped from his face and trickled down to his groin making his balls shrink and his nipples pop. A man appeared before his eyes and he felt the alligator clip bite hard on his popped nipples. He threw his head back and let out an “aaarrgg,” as the clips tore into one of the more sensitive spots on his body. The amps were turned up another notch and the electricity fizzed through Declan’s body.
“You must tell us the plans what is your army going to do,” the broken English words rang through Declan’s ears and whirred about in his head. Declan lapsed into unconsciousness again.
************
Two big Afghan men half dragged and half carried Declan’s limp body down a hall way and then down some stairs. The door to the cell creaked as they opened. The two guards threw Declan onto a slab his limp naked body made a splat like noise disturbing the other prisoners. The guards turned and left the barred metal gate clanging behind them.
The prison was built into the rock it was dark and cave like. It was long and ran around the contours of the rock wall. A small bridge led across a fissure which had to be crossed to get to the prison. Declan’s limp body was in a crumpled shape and the slap noise disturbed two of the other prisoners. The two Prisoners felt their way along the bench that acted as both a seat and a bed.
“Here,” Solomon whispered loudly. He tapped his hand along the seat making a slapping sound that stopped when his hand touched Declan’s calf. “Oh we got a beauty here,” he said turning his head towards Omar. His hand began to explore Declan’s leg and thigh. His hand eventually made it to Declan’s smooth rounded buttocks. But something did not quite feel right. “They have tortured this one,” Solomon could feel the ridges left by the cane that wacked Declan’s ass he whispered. “Wait I’ll feel his…” Solomon slipped his hand down beneath Declan’s thigh. “Oh,” he exclaimed with a hint of excitement “this boy is big. Solomon could not help himself he squeezed Declan’s dick as if he were milking a cow. “We got ourselves a negro!” Solomon said he could hardly contain his excitement.
“How do you know?” Omar asked.
“The size of this guy’s schlong no white boy would be that big besides I can feel his fuzzy boosh,” Solomon kept his hand beneath Declan’s thigh he rubbed Declan’s nine inches but he soon found that Declan was getting just as excited as Solomon and the nine inches gradually became eleven and a half.
“Stop it!” Omar screeched.
“What are you jealous?” Solomon queried.
“No but you wait till he is awake before we…” Omar shut up as Declan moan and rolled over to the left. “Oh my!” Omar gasped as he saw Declan’s member bathed in a pale blue light, which shone from a tiny barred window above the bench seat. Declan’s dick was full on and the creamy mauve head pointed above Declan’s navel. “It’s not right,” Omar protested. He has to be awake and he has to be willing.”
“Omar, Omar, Omar this is war all’s fair in love and war,” Solomon chuckled. Solomon stroked Declan’s thigh, pushing his hand up to just underneath Declan’s balls. Solomon came to an abrupt stop “Oh god!” he gasped “they’ve Oh no.” Solomon could feel the marks on Declan’s ball that the alligator clips had left behind. Solomon backed off and inched himself away from Declan. “We best leave him be,” Solomon whispered.
“Oh help me lay him out on this bench." Omar grabbed Declan’s legs and Solomon took Declan by the arm pits and they laid his limp naked body out on the cold stone slab.
The tramp, tramp, tramp of rebel soldiers boots echoed through the prison cell. The four rebels’ took Declan two held his feet and two grabbed him by the arms they marched out of the cell and disappeared into darkness beyond the bridge.
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Bigboy - November 9, 2014, 2:01 pm
I can’t wait for the next chapter to see what they have in store for Declan