Chapter 2 – ‘Prepped for Packing’
Styvers and Holstrom lowered Grant’s ankle mounts until his body was once again pulled into a taut X. Grant’s cock continued to harden against his will like he was 19. He kept sobbing. There was absolutely no way for him to hide what was happening to his cock. Even trying to do long division math problems in his head, which worked in college, wasn’t going to stop this erection.
Jason and Luke couldn’t comprehend what was happening right before their eyes. They had witnessed the ultra masculine former Deputy Alan Grant suck that huge plug into his ass with an audible pop. They weren’t even over that shock before they saw a hose click right into the bottom of the plug. Luke and Jason had front row seats to the leak test. “Just how do they test for leaks – and what fucking leaks are they talking about?” Jason wondered. Then Grant’s belly started growing. And growing. Thoughts raced through the kneeling men’s brains, “NO! What was wrong with these brutal fucks?
Grant’s gut looked like he was pregnant! The prep team was forcing a powerful enema into him. They were enjoying it, too, by their clear smirks as they playfully patted Grant’s distended belly. Then came a bear hug. Luke figured Grant’s plug was leaking. He could see drops of liquid hitting the ground. Wait, that wasn’t a leak! Luke followed the path of liquid all the way to Grant’s face. He could see tears flowing out of his former fellow Deputy’s eyes. He could hear the cock muted moans of agony. “Jesus, please make them stop. Please don’t let this happen to me!” Prayed Luke in silence.
Maybe his prayers were being answered, because Grant’s belly was shrinking and went back to normal! Maybe he was going to be spared the same abuses after all. But then it grew again. The moans and tears returned. This happened a third time, all over the course of about ten minutes. Apparently they were satisfied there weren’t any leaks, even with the bear hug, because the hose was finally removed. Luke was making out what sounded like somebody crying into a pillow. Of course Grant was still screaming behind his muzzled and cock filled mouth, but this was closer. It was that civilian they had thrown next to him and Grant. Luke wanted to throttle the man for giving up the fight. If they had any chance of getting out of this mess, it was going to take both of them. The civilian looked built enough to hold his own and Luke needed him to stay strong.
After the hose was removed, Jason and Luke, from their kneeling perspective, were transfixed on the base of the plug. “Was that thing twitching?! Were Grant’s ass cheeks tensing and relaxing in perfect timing with the plug’s movements?!” Jason and Luke swapped confused looks at each other. And now, Grant’s vein swollen cock, pointing up to his abs, harder than a rock, bobbed when his ass cheeks tensed up! “Was Grant enjoying this?! Aww fuck! Have some dignity, man! There are civilians present,” thought Luke, “for fuck’s sake, we showered together at the Academy.” Jason tried looking away but his captors kept him and Luke focused on the show.
Waters looked away from his handiwork on the rack and back to his audience with a grin. “Is this what we can expect out of you two? Are you going to try and fuck yourselves with a butt plug while your cock gets hard enough to burst? In front of all these other men?” Reaching down and grasping Jason and Luke’s crotches. “I think so,” as he tugged between the men’s legs, “I think you’re both enjoying what’s happening! Fucking pathetic! You know, it takes part of the fun out of it for us if you bastards start enjoying yourselves.” Jason and Luke stared at each other, each man’s eyes showing anger and fear, and began shaking their heads back and forth.
But Waters knew exactly what was happening to the straight stud trapped in front of his soon to be “rackmates”! Waters reached back and gripped Grant’s manhood like it was a safety rail and used it to pull himself up. He leaned in closer to the bound man’s ears. In a hushed voice he told Grant “What your buddies don’t know is that the last cleaning cycle, the one we kept in you for a little bit longer, wasn’t really a cleaning solution. It was our own specially developed mixture laced with natural and man-made chemicals that were readily absorbed by your lower intestine. We like to call it ‘Rocket Cock’. It’s a very special gift that keeps on giving for a while; funny story how it got its name. DUDE! You’re going to be hard as a rock for at least the next two days! You should be thanking us,” slapping Grant’s muscular chest. “Any minute now, your insides will inevitably start to spasm from what we forced into your guts. And if you think your ass has got a good grip on that plug now, just wait. You’re going to try and pull that fucker deeper inside of you! Then you’re going to try and push it out. It’s gonna’ piston in your ass like it was attached to a motor,” Waters said with a wide grin. “You’re going to keep clenching onto that plug for relief, whether you want to or not. Relief that will be ever so close, but won’t ever come. OVER and OVER! But look at the bright side: it’ll help you build your sphincter up! I hear that’s a good thing where you three are headed.”
Grant’s sobbing turned to rage! He violently shook back and forth against his unforgiving new bonds. His X stretched body, still held in place by the hip bar, wasn’t moving much. But the captured stud’s energy and rage were transferred directly to his rack. It actually began to wobble a bit! Grant’s outburst waned as he couldn’t ignore the never before felt sensations in his ass. He had to get that thing out of him! Grant pushed harder against his monstrous intruder than he ever had yet, causing veins to pop out of his temples! But it was no use. If his sphincter had sealed so tightly against the base of the plug that it wouldn’t even leak when his insides were filled to capacity and he got bear-hugged over his belly, he knew trying to expel it was pointless. Besides, his head felt like it was going to explode. Then an unbelievable thing happened. “Oh God! NO!” Waters wasn’t kidding about the clenching. Before his brain could process what was happening, all the muscles in Grant’s ass and sphincter tensed up in unison and then gripped on the plug, pulling its base deeper into his crack, then releasing – in front of everybody! This happened again, and again, every ten seconds or so. Grant’s own body wasn’t listening to his enraged brain. His ass was pumping that plug like it was on autopilot.
He’d temporarily forgotten about his raging hard on. Who could blame him? Every man sports morningwood, and randomwood, so even Grant’s new angrywood managed to fade into the background when his mind was forced to focus on an entirely new orchestra of sensations playing out in his ass. His brain was still trying to interpret what was happening. Then he noticed a coolness on his cock. “The twisted fuck’s plan isn’t going to work on me!” Some of the heat was dissipating, there was no denying it! He strained his eyeballs to look down. He was expecting to see his cock partially deflating. His brain better have cataloged the carnival ride playing out in his ass, because it was about to get a whole lot of new synapses firing. The coolness wasn’t from his manhood recovering and shrinking, it was from the air currents his jutting cock was causing as it bobbed up and down in time with his unwelcomed ass clenching!
He finally managed to form a thought, “Oh, no, please, no!” Was he feeling pleasure? Grant assured himself it was all very wrong and very painful. Even though his obscenely engorged cock apparently enjoyed what was happening. “Bullshit!” Grant thought, while trying to force the new feelings out of his head. “It’s all because of that Rocket Cock mixture they had forced into me.” To be sure, the proprietary blend that was used on Grant played a major part in his cock’s bursting size and the party playing out up his once virgin hole, as it would continue to do so for the next 72 hours. But the throbbing, the pleasurable throbbing his cock felt every time his sphincter gripped harder on the base of his new plug – where was that coming from!?!
The prep team knew this routine well. Straight or not, no man was going to overcome what was happening to them right now. Why not have some fun with it? The former life of the doomed fuck stretched out in front of them, like hundreds before, was over anyway. So the poppers rag was held over Grant’s nose once again. And, once again, after half a dozen inescapable inhalations, that warm, euphoric feeling returned. The agony subsided. The restraints felt like they were part of him. The throbbing of his cock, in sync with the involuntary clenching of his new plug, like they were timed to a metronome, FELT GOOD! FUCK IT FELT GOOD! After all, what man didn’t like to feel his cock throb? Grant had just never known the sensations in his ass could feel good, too. He drifted off into another popper-fueled state of bliss, his body completely relaxed. The team knew Grant’s reality would come crashing back in just a couple of minutes. The popper formulation they used on their racked victims was a special one, developed in-house, too. The team had tried it out once. Holy FUCK! They had nicknamed this stuff ‘Rapture’…
…One night, after an extended delay, with Tersend preoccupied on a logistics problem, the entire collection team had some free time. All of the field ops personnel were specially recruited for their role within the operation. Homosexuals were preferred on the prep teams because some of the intimate handling of men’s bodies were best left to men that didn’t mind it. But they were also recruited because, like the armed teams and the rest of field ops, they were masculine, could kick ass if necessary, and didn’t behave like effeminate pansies. They were studs that just happened to like mansex. Waters, Styvers and Holstrom were all recruited together from the Port of Los Angeles Longshoremen only a few years ago. Longshoremen are incredibly well compensated, but even they couldn’t resist the money and the lifestyle this new career path afforded them. Even if it meant a life of forced (and enforced!) secrecy.
When they were trained and turned loose to field collection teams, they all chose the same unit and hung out together. It was only natural, and almost expected, for prep team members to want to try out some of the tools and equipment they used on the captured men. The prior Longshoremen trio was sitting in the well appointed common area at the rear of their semi-trailer playing cards with the door propped open. A beefy security detail of two was walking by and decided to drop in. Damn their uniforms looked hot! The two former Alabama State Troopers asked if they could be dealt into the game. After a few hands, one of the security detail asked if anyone cared to “make it interesting.”
Waters said, “You know gambling is forbidden on collection operations,” with a wink. Unfortunately, the security detail found themselves running out of cash after just a short time. When neither of them could ante up, Waters glanced at Styvers and Holstrom and offered “You guys have seen the effects of some of our chemicals, but we want to see what small amounts will do. The solution we force up the men’s asses during processing actually comes in a powdered form. We mix it in a saline solution before we use it in the pumping units. If you guys were willing to try just a fractional amount, the whole pot is yours. You gents up for it? I promise you’re in good hands! The effects, no matter what they are, shouldn’t last long,” claimed Waters. In an unmistakable Alabama tone, the larger of the two spouted “Hell, what could it hurt to try, we’re Bama’ boys and we’re in!” The other man wasn’t so sure, but he had to back up his buddy. They had the guys eat just a measured teaspoon each of the tasteless powder and wash it down with water. Then waited. It took about 15 minutes, but the guys started to fidget in their seats.
Trooper deal-us-in, the one that had gotten them into this mess by popping his mouth off, leapt out of his chair. The crotch of his fitted uniform was definitely bulging more than usual, but you couldn’t see the outline of a cock. “Umph, this shit hurts!” He ripped his duty belt off, and unzipped his jumpsuit. He tore his arms out of it and peeled the jumpsuit down to his knees. “Fuck! I can’t take this!” The prep team’s jaws all dropped. The reason there was no outline of the man’s cock was because he was wearing a cup! And the cup was now max-performing the elastic of its sturdy, 4 inch wide waistband. “I gotta get out of this thing!” He locked his thumbs into the waistband and shoved down. The cup and supporter quickly slid to the middle of his muscular thighs.
His cock was now free of its molded plastic prison and pointed straight up at the ceiling. Fuck, you could see the guy’s cock twitch with every heartbeat! Styvers asked what the rest of the team was thinking, “You guys wear cups?” The second man said flatly, obviously trying to ignore his partner, and more importantly, his own building discomfort, “Yeah, um, they’re custom molded, we get measured for them, umph, oww, and our jumpsuits, right when we get hired. As security, you never know what we’re going to run into, uhmm pht, the jumpsuits have built in elbow and knee pads, too, see.”
The second man couldn’t keep up his poker face any longer. He groaned, jumped out of his seat, doffed his jumpsuit, and lowered the cup. There stood two studs, cocks jutting up and throbbing, jocks around their thighs, and jumpsuits hanging around their knees. Quite the sight! The first man gritted his teeth, pointed at his plum colored cock and asked “How long is this going to last?” Waters shot back, “Look, you’re either going to have the erections of your lifetime for the next hour or so and go totally flaccid, or you’re going to quickly soften up enough that you may be able to bend your rods back into your cups. That should only last until morning. I can’t help that your jumpsuits leave little to the imagination. You’re welcome to stay here and bunk with us for the night. We have spare rooms.”
“Not good enough Waters!” said the first man, “You fucking lied to us and I’m going to beat your ass.” He lunged for Waters, forgetting his knees were tangled in his jumpsuit, and sprawled onto the floor. Styvers and Holstrom had some rags doused in the special popper mix at the ready, just in case. They knew it brought on total body relaxation, which helped them during processing to get the plugs in. Waters yelled “Do it, use it now!” It was easy for Holsrom to get the soaked cloth over the face of the man on the ground, but it took Styvers and Waters to topple the other man and get a rag on him. Soon, both guys quit struggling and went limp. Well, all except for their engorged members! They laid there in what sounded like ecstacy, emitting soft groans of pleasure. That only lasted about 5 minutes. Then their anger returned. All of it. “Quick! Dose them up again,” said Waters. Before the two men recovered complete control of their bodies, the rags were held in place again and off they went to pleasureland.
“Look guys,” said Waters, “I think there’s a way out of this. But we have to work together, and we have to move quickly. Styvers, get their boots, jumpsuits and underwear, er, jocks and T shirts, off of them. Be careful, and be ready to hit these guys with more juice in about 4 minutes. Holstrom, come with me.” Styvers did his part and had the men fully naked, only having to use one extra dose on them. It got interesting when he was trying to get their T-shirts off. The guys kept tugging at his hands, trying to pull him in closer to their cocks, like they wanted to be touched! “Jesus, what was in this stuff?” He thought. He knew the dosed rags brought on muscle relaxation, he’d seen it himself. But Styvers had only seen it while men were already restrained on a rack. These studs could still move their bodies, at full strength if necessary, but only in very slow motions. And the slowed reflexes made their efforts seem gentle. They also appeared to have lost all inhibitions and shyness! He kept the rags far away from his own face.
Waters and Holstrom opened up one of the spacious sleeping berths. There was even room for a king size bed in the sleek, luxuriously appointed room. This was one of the 3 spare cabins on board. All of which were equipped with hidden 4K security cameras. Waters ran to his cabin and grabbed his USB powered portable room mister. He placed it in a vase on the built-in nightstand, filled the vase with water, and had Holstrom pour 3 generous shots of relaxer into the vase. They plugged the mister into a USB port and rushed back to Styvers and the two cranked-out and boned-up members of the security team.
They arrived just in time to see Styvers administering another dose, which the men weren’t even resisting. “If you dose them before it starts to wear off, they don’t mind inhaling more of it,” beamed Styvers. “And they seem to get a little, uh, touchy.” Waters said “I’m counting on it. Let’s get this pile of man meat into cabin 5.” Before that last direct hit of relaxant wore off, the men were tossed onto the bed. No easy feat as these guys were piles of muscle! The room reeked of solvent. Waters tuned the 55” flatscreen to an all-gay porno stream. He laid down between the men, draped his arms over their defined abs and gripped each of their joysticks at the same time. And while he moved his hands up, down, and all around, just like they were real joysticks, he said “You guys were both recruited from the Alabama Highway Patrol, weren’t you?” They both softly moaned “Yes.” “I’ll bet you studs beat-off a lot, just like all of the other former cops on the security team?” “Umhhmm,” they both agreed. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for a fellow cop, is there?” “No, anything,” they almost said at the same time.
Their speech was now less slurred. The heavy dose of relaxant was wearing off. Were it not for the amount the mister was spewing into the room, they would have fully recovered. But there was just enough to keep them in their trance. “You guys need to help your fellow officer out and get relief for your tormented cocks. It’s not gay. It’s just helping another man out. Just like the men on the TV are helping each other out, see.” He got up, put each man’s hand on the other’s swollen, crimson, cock, and left the room. And not a moment too soon, even that little amount in the cabin air was affecting Waters!
The team went back to the common area and gathered up the security detail’s uniforms. Styvers examined one of the cups closer. “That Alabama boy was right, these are custom! You can even see where one ball hangs lower than the other, even though the front is symmetrical. And look how far back the bottom of the cup extends, that has to almost be in their ass crack. Plus, they’re not jockstraps at all – these are thongs! No wonder the security teams walk around with such a pep in their step. I think we should lobby for some of these, you never know what we’re going to run into either.” Holstrom mentioned “Yeah, it would feel great, but you ain’t got room to grow. And you know you would by looking at where the back tip rests. Once you put this on, your junk’s in place until you take it off. These miserable fucks are trying to not get hard all day. THAT’S where the pep in the step comes from my friend!” They started to watch what was happening in cabin 5.
“HOLY SHIT,” went Holstrom. “The smaller guy is getting ready to drill the mouthy one. He’s thrusting that tool like it’s rocked fueled!” “Yep, that’s a rocket fired cock,” chimed Styvers, “And Mr mouth doesn’t even seem to care that we didn’t leave them any lube in there, he’s got a look of rapture pasted on his face.”
Had the team wanted to make some extra cash, the untamed lust the former Troopers showed for one another in the 3 hour, 4K, fuckfest, would have fetched the trio hundreds of thousands of dollars. But they were just as happy to burn copies on thumb drives and put them in each of the starring men’s custom built cups, where they absolutely couldn’t miss finding them. These security men were now blackmailed, in direct violation of policy. The prep team’s special blends forever became known as ‘Rocket Cock’ and ‘Rapture’…
…And now Grant’s last hit of Rapture was wearing off. The pain and anger back again at full strength. He was even more angry for allowing himself to find some enjoyment in his torments! Maybe he shouldn’t kill himself over what was happening to his body. His rigid member bouncing in time with the plug meant nothing! It didn’t make him gay. It was just a normal healthy male’s response to stimulus, right? “Fuck that!” his inner mind screamed. “I will fight these fuckers.” And the pointless struggling started all over.
“I see he’s back on the fight,” mentioned Styvers, as he walked back to the rack with rolls of plastic sheets over his left shoulder. He looked Grant square in the eye and said with a harsh smile and tone “You’re really not going to like this next part, either.” The prep team had what it needed. Jason and Owens saw the rolls of plastic getting laid out in front of Grant. They had no idea what they were for.
Waters did. Grant was about to get shrink wrapped.
© 2021 CFlex
Metal would like to thank the author for this story!