Bryan looked down into the water - red and black swirled around him. The air was hot and caustic - it burned his lungs with every breath. The blood and engine fuel that congealed around his body urged him to move faster.
“Almost there ....come on - move!!” he urged himself forward. The chard remains of the jet engines floated upon the water - burning black. He wanted to get out of the fucking water and onto safe land.
“Safety!” he scoffed. There was no safety - not on the plane, nor the inhospitable island he was about to encounter. He was, he was positive, the only man to survive the crash. It was too sudden - no one was prepared for the sudden gunfire, the wrenching sound of rivets being torn from steel - or bone from flesh. In sheer moments, a military jet with 10 souls onboard met its watery destination in the south Pacific.
Another explosion echoed behind him. “Damn!” He screamed, and dove - dodging any potential projectiles from the eruption. He was glad the water was warm, at least - not like being back in the Antarctic. That was one blessing to be glad about.
He was there...he could see the land getting ever closer. Two more strokes - then three. He stopped. Regained his bearings. Three more - was he any closer? Getting closer to land always seemed deceivingly hard in the ocean waves.
“Come on, man - you can do it!” He spoke to no one but his own spirit.
There. He could almost feel the shore beneath him. He must make it to the island. Two steps. One leap - seabed firmly underfoot. Two steps more. Three steps - There!
Now upon the shore - he breathed twice and lay down for a long awaited sleep. Two miles in open sea was a long way to swim, in full regalia. He bent down, caressed the dusky sandy shore, and laid his heavy back down into its grasp. He breathed deeply again - and fell soundly asleep. At last - Peace...
-----
“A mission, Sir?” plaintively, he asked. “Again?”
“Soldier, need I remind you that you are our goddamn property - and if I say leap, you leap. If I say fucking cut your own testicles off, drink their blood, and hand them over to me with a smile - you’ll gladly fucking do it!” Admiral Hawkings reprimanded.
Hawkings glared at the small, runty man before him. How in Fuck’s name did his commanding officer pick this douchebag of a cock-sucking moron for this mission? But - as trained to do for his entire career - he did not ask any questions of his superiors, and did as he was told.
“You’re on a top-secret convoy to Arizona, where you will be privy to army intelligence that is hardly ever conveyed to anyone. You will do as your asked - you will eat, drink, shit as you’re told - and count you’re lucky stars that you are part of this mission. Many men who know what you have coming would trade their wives and kids’ lives to take your place. So fucking man-up!! Now go.”
The lieutenant saluted, turned, and walked strongly to his barracks. Almost nothing personal survived basic training - and the trinkets that remained were hardly worth the eye of any fellow comrades. A watch-pin, a rusty lock, and an old picture of a man in military uniform - his grandfather. The remaining clothing wrapped up in a carrier along with the few items, secured in his grasp, marched with him as he left the barracks, never to return again. Outside a glistening train waited - silver, like the hair on a hyaena - taking him to a location, located somewhere in Arizona - he knew not where, to undergo a special mission, he knew not of.
----
Bryan awoke to the sicking sound of fires burning. The fires that still scorched the remains of his peers - or at least the parts that had not sunk into the watery abyss - still blazed upon the horizon. It would be late tomorrow afternoon before they finally extinguished themselves. The moon was bright overhead. He was utterly alone on the beach ...very likely to be the only inhabitant of the island. The stars were so numerous that he seemed to see more light than black. It was the same in Antarctica - Arizona too. He, at first, had been so stunned by it’s majesty (growing up in Detroit, he hardly ever got to see the firmament), but over the past several months, they too become a part of his daily life.
He really should find shelter. It was so dark on the interior of the island, and such a perfectly clear night overhead - that for tonight, he could probably just stay upon the shore and be fine. Starting at his toes, he scanned his body. Nothing broken anywhere - he was certain. He still wanted to take stock of his current situation. Some cuts to his feet. Moving upwards, knees: intact. The areas directly above were going to be deeply bruised from the impact of the missile, that had thrown him across the onboard table.
“Thank God, nothing broken.” He sighed. It would have taken much longer to work out a strategy, to make a base, to hunt down food - if his bones were broken. Moving further upwards: thighs - check. Hips: sore, but manageable. Testicles: oh, yeah, still there. Cock: ...interesting....it was rock hard. With all the struggles in the past 5 hours, he had assumed that an erection would be the furthest thing that would happen to him. ...but then again, those experiments succeeded so far beyond what anyone had anticipated ...he was not actually surprised that he was not only surviving, but ready to procreate and share his newly-acquired dna with any fertile female passing. Since none were present - he would have to take the matters into his own hands. It had been nearly 10 hours since his last ejaculation...far longer than was comfortable for him to sustain.
He unthreaded the belt loop under his shirt, slid down his specially-fabricated trousers, and stared at his massive man-meat. Even these eight months later, he stood in awe of his enormous package. They engineered his dna too well...he became too much of the Übermensch they were designing...far too much. But he loved it.
His 12.5” by 8” dick stood at full attention - pointing directly upwards to Orion’s belt. Thick, blue and purple veins ran down the shaft, to a giant, flared glans - large than most doorknobs. He already had a stream of precum ebbing its way down to his massively over-sized balls. Had been standing, his testicles would easily have hung 6-8” below the bottom of his pelvis, his perineum. Each, they were the size of small mangos. Along with his ridiculously proportioned penis, required a specially desinged pouch for his genitals, embedded into the front of his high-tech pants. It reminded him of a codpiece that an Elizabethan actor would...only far bigger...far, far bigger - it was like a large papaya and required additional navigation when he walked.
It was glorious and obscene. Far beyond the wild dreams he had growing up, where he was gifted a grossly enlarged dick. The dreams were he would be surrounded by hugely-endowed men, and his penis would slowly balloon until it became a size that equalled or surpassed...maybe it had been a prophecy of a sort?
His left, battered and scarred hand grasped his enormous shaft...and slowly his hips began to pump, sliding its enormous length between his straining fingers. In his mind, he imagined the most beautiful nymph he could summon....Sofia Vergara...sliding up and down about his meaty shaft - screaming in delight and pain as his massive dick pushed further and further into her thick, ample pussy. Her labia wrapped around his shaft like a balloon stretched too thin. Bryan fucking loved his new massive organ and the real-life fantasy man he had become. He grunted and shuddered his way further into the night... knowing that it would be several hours more, and gallons of precum later, before he would actually be able to ejaculate. ...Staying power - another “gift.”
A short time before before the morning sun peaked its lazy head over the horizon, Bryan finally came...a geyser of semen exploding in a twenty foot radius, fifteen feet in the air. One, three...twelve, nineteen...forty, forty-three gushes (and over a minute later) his orgasm finally extinguished... Oh, the wraps of ecstasy. The short moment in time, where everything feels blissful - where he was complete, and safe...and at home. And after a few deep breaths, he could finally go back to sleep.
Not that he needed more than a few hours of sleep nowadays...but after such exertions of the previous day, he felt sure he would out-sleep the coming morn...
(to be continued.)
“Almost there ....come on - move!!” he urged himself forward. The chard remains of the jet engines floated upon the water - burning black. He wanted to get out of the fucking water and onto safe land.
“Safety!” he scoffed. There was no safety - not on the plane, nor the inhospitable island he was about to encounter. He was, he was positive, the only man to survive the crash. It was too sudden - no one was prepared for the sudden gunfire, the wrenching sound of rivets being torn from steel - or bone from flesh. In sheer moments, a military jet with 10 souls onboard met its watery destination in the south Pacific.
Another explosion echoed behind him. “Damn!” He screamed, and dove - dodging any potential projectiles from the eruption. He was glad the water was warm, at least - not like being back in the Antarctic. That was one blessing to be glad about.
He was there...he could see the land getting ever closer. Two more strokes - then three. He stopped. Regained his bearings. Three more - was he any closer? Getting closer to land always seemed deceivingly hard in the ocean waves.
“Come on, man - you can do it!” He spoke to no one but his own spirit.
There. He could almost feel the shore beneath him. He must make it to the island. Two steps. One leap - seabed firmly underfoot. Two steps more. Three steps - There!
Now upon the shore - he breathed twice and lay down for a long awaited sleep. Two miles in open sea was a long way to swim, in full regalia. He bent down, caressed the dusky sandy shore, and laid his heavy back down into its grasp. He breathed deeply again - and fell soundly asleep. At last - Peace...
-----
“A mission, Sir?” plaintively, he asked. “Again?”
“Soldier, need I remind you that you are our goddamn property - and if I say leap, you leap. If I say fucking cut your own testicles off, drink their blood, and hand them over to me with a smile - you’ll gladly fucking do it!” Admiral Hawkings reprimanded.
Hawkings glared at the small, runty man before him. How in Fuck’s name did his commanding officer pick this douchebag of a cock-sucking moron for this mission? But - as trained to do for his entire career - he did not ask any questions of his superiors, and did as he was told.
“You’re on a top-secret convoy to Arizona, where you will be privy to army intelligence that is hardly ever conveyed to anyone. You will do as your asked - you will eat, drink, shit as you’re told - and count you’re lucky stars that you are part of this mission. Many men who know what you have coming would trade their wives and kids’ lives to take your place. So fucking man-up!! Now go.”
The lieutenant saluted, turned, and walked strongly to his barracks. Almost nothing personal survived basic training - and the trinkets that remained were hardly worth the eye of any fellow comrades. A watch-pin, a rusty lock, and an old picture of a man in military uniform - his grandfather. The remaining clothing wrapped up in a carrier along with the few items, secured in his grasp, marched with him as he left the barracks, never to return again. Outside a glistening train waited - silver, like the hair on a hyaena - taking him to a location, located somewhere in Arizona - he knew not where, to undergo a special mission, he knew not of.
----
Bryan awoke to the sicking sound of fires burning. The fires that still scorched the remains of his peers - or at least the parts that had not sunk into the watery abyss - still blazed upon the horizon. It would be late tomorrow afternoon before they finally extinguished themselves. The moon was bright overhead. He was utterly alone on the beach ...very likely to be the only inhabitant of the island. The stars were so numerous that he seemed to see more light than black. It was the same in Antarctica - Arizona too. He, at first, had been so stunned by it’s majesty (growing up in Detroit, he hardly ever got to see the firmament), but over the past several months, they too become a part of his daily life.
He really should find shelter. It was so dark on the interior of the island, and such a perfectly clear night overhead - that for tonight, he could probably just stay upon the shore and be fine. Starting at his toes, he scanned his body. Nothing broken anywhere - he was certain. He still wanted to take stock of his current situation. Some cuts to his feet. Moving upwards, knees: intact. The areas directly above were going to be deeply bruised from the impact of the missile, that had thrown him across the onboard table.
“Thank God, nothing broken.” He sighed. It would have taken much longer to work out a strategy, to make a base, to hunt down food - if his bones were broken. Moving further upwards: thighs - check. Hips: sore, but manageable. Testicles: oh, yeah, still there. Cock: ...interesting....it was rock hard. With all the struggles in the past 5 hours, he had assumed that an erection would be the furthest thing that would happen to him. ...but then again, those experiments succeeded so far beyond what anyone had anticipated ...he was not actually surprised that he was not only surviving, but ready to procreate and share his newly-acquired dna with any fertile female passing. Since none were present - he would have to take the matters into his own hands. It had been nearly 10 hours since his last ejaculation...far longer than was comfortable for him to sustain.
He unthreaded the belt loop under his shirt, slid down his specially-fabricated trousers, and stared at his massive man-meat. Even these eight months later, he stood in awe of his enormous package. They engineered his dna too well...he became too much of the Übermensch they were designing...far too much. But he loved it.
His 12.5” by 8” dick stood at full attention - pointing directly upwards to Orion’s belt. Thick, blue and purple veins ran down the shaft, to a giant, flared glans - large than most doorknobs. He already had a stream of precum ebbing its way down to his massively over-sized balls. Had been standing, his testicles would easily have hung 6-8” below the bottom of his pelvis, his perineum. Each, they were the size of small mangos. Along with his ridiculously proportioned penis, required a specially desinged pouch for his genitals, embedded into the front of his high-tech pants. It reminded him of a codpiece that an Elizabethan actor would...only far bigger...far, far bigger - it was like a large papaya and required additional navigation when he walked.
It was glorious and obscene. Far beyond the wild dreams he had growing up, where he was gifted a grossly enlarged dick. The dreams were he would be surrounded by hugely-endowed men, and his penis would slowly balloon until it became a size that equalled or surpassed...maybe it had been a prophecy of a sort?
His left, battered and scarred hand grasped his enormous shaft...and slowly his hips began to pump, sliding its enormous length between his straining fingers. In his mind, he imagined the most beautiful nymph he could summon....Sofia Vergara...sliding up and down about his meaty shaft - screaming in delight and pain as his massive dick pushed further and further into her thick, ample pussy. Her labia wrapped around his shaft like a balloon stretched too thin. Bryan fucking loved his new massive organ and the real-life fantasy man he had become. He grunted and shuddered his way further into the night... knowing that it would be several hours more, and gallons of precum later, before he would actually be able to ejaculate. ...Staying power - another “gift.”
A short time before before the morning sun peaked its lazy head over the horizon, Bryan finally came...a geyser of semen exploding in a twenty foot radius, fifteen feet in the air. One, three...twelve, nineteen...forty, forty-three gushes (and over a minute later) his orgasm finally extinguished... Oh, the wraps of ecstasy. The short moment in time, where everything feels blissful - where he was complete, and safe...and at home. And after a few deep breaths, he could finally go back to sleep.
Not that he needed more than a few hours of sleep nowadays...but after such exertions of the previous day, he felt sure he would out-sleep the coming morn...
(to be continued.)
