Interviewing a Dictator

"Assets?" I asked. "Who are you, Shaun? Are you CIA?"

"Don't ask," he said. "Better you not ask. Just be glad we're getting out of here. These are our men. There's an airstrip. You'll be in Key West in another hour or two."

"You set this up, didn't you? You and the CIA. You used me to get this footage of the dictator not only revealing his politics but also laying me." I didn't go to the lengths of asking him what part he had had in putting those photographs of me being gangbanged on the Internet. Somehow I knew the answer to that already.

Shaun laughed. "The footage of the interview will be bombshell great in Washington. The footage the soldiers took when the dictator was fucking you will be great to show here in the country. These people aren't going to like the idea of knuckling under to a faggot."

"A faggot? Shaun, you've used me. You're using the network."

But Shaun wasn't listening to me. He was crouched in front of me, unzipping my trousers, pulling them down my legs, unzipping and releasing himself, pushing his thighs between mine. The soldiers sitting close beside me were looking straight ahead, stony eyed—at least at first. Not a source of help or comfort. As Shaun fucked me, I saw that they had released their own cocks and were stroking them and watching Shaun's cock appearing and disappearing in my hole.

He was shushing me, thinking that fucking me like this would calm me down and take my mind off the big picture. I can't say he was wrong.

"God, I nearly creamed myself as I watched him fuck you," Shaun growled, keeping my attention on his words while he worked his cock inside me. "I wanted to break out of my bonds—not that they really had me tied so I couldn't if I had to—you are such a luscious piece. As much as you want it, your saving grace is that you have an incredible body, that you're an incredible fuck. Didn't really have to be told to play up to him, did you? Those pills really did for him. Cock that big, you were in heaven, weren't you? You were never in danger. You must understand that. The two soldiers were local assets of ours. They could have stopped it at any time. But when I saw what those pills did to his cock, I knew you'd want it."

I didn't answer him. I had my legs hooked on his hips, my arms around his neck, and my forehead plastered to his, moaning and whimpering to him the same words I had to the dictator as Shaun pumped my ass. "Yes, yes, fuck me. Yes, yes, like that. Oh, fuck, oh shit."

He knew me too well. He knew how to control me, and he knew that I would do this for him again if he wanted me to. I knew he was doing this just to bend me to his will. And I knew he would be successful. I didn't fight him. I moved my pelvis with him, determined to fully enjoy what I couldn't fight.

He also knew that I would lay under any of the four hunky soldiers in the back of the truck—all U.S. Marines, I was sure—if he told me to and they wanted me.

"Shaun," I murmured.

"I told you already. All you need is a hard body and a big cock. Tell me I'm wrong."

I couldn't.

"You want to stay with me, you have to do what I want. What will it be? You want me to spin you off at the network and try to rise again on your own and not stick with me, say it now. You want me, you have to show me you'll do whatever I want."

I lay back against the bench, relaxing to him, giving in to him completely, as he came deep inside me.

"OK, guys, who else wants a piece of him? He'll love it. You've rescued him and he'll want to express his appreciation. Look at this hole," he said, turning my body so they all could see how open I was. I clung to him, burying my face in the hollow of his neck, embarrassed because what he was saying aroused me. "Who else wants to take a dip? I know each of you guys—what each wants."

Curse me, I wanted to hear one of them say yes. They all were hunks.

Two of them did say yes, right then, fucking me on the floor of the bouncing truck as it raced toward the air strip. All four had magnificent bodies. I was resigned to what I liked. When Shaun told me what he wanted—what they wanted, I lay on my back on sacks of grain on the floor of the truck, spread and raised my legs, and held out my arms for each of the hard-bodied young Marines, both big cocked, both vigorous and fast shooters in the excitement of what we were doing and where we were doing it. As I set my hips in motion at the first pump of their cocks, Shaun and the other soldiers watched, grinned, licked their lips, and stroked their cocks.

As the second, one, a big, black stud, slid into me, his heavily muscled arm lifting my waist, my torso arching back to the floor of the vehicle, my mouth opened to a silent scream at the thickness and length of him. My hands went to his hard buttocks, holding him close to me as he pumped deep. Shaun leaned over, kissed me on the lips as I looked up at him, eyes glazed, already swimming in cum, and whispered, "Trust me. I know what you want. I'll always take care of you if you do what I tell you to do. I can give you this and so much more. You will be a great asset for us."

The truck paused at the air strip long enough to accommodate the other two soldiers, plus the truck's two drivers, all admitting that they wanted it too. They took me in quick succession, the next entering me right after the one before him had shot off and withdrawn, as Shaun told them to hurry, anxious for the plane to lift off. This seemed silly a short time later, as the Marines continued to trade off on me as we were flying to Key West. My own little gang bang, moaning for each throbbing monster cock. Shaun stood over me, filming it all. I knew the film would be one more thing held over me to keep me compliant to the wishes of Shaun's masters. I didn't care. No more denying what I wanted, what I'd do to get it. Shaun had swept every ounce of my guilt and resolve away. I loved every thrust of the hard-bodied, big-cocked Marines Shaun and whoever he worked for—although, of course I knew who that was—had selected just for me. Of course I'd do whatever he—and they—wanted me to do. Just as long as they took care of me. Young, hung, hard-bodied soldiers and sailors—and, of course, my very own handler, Shaun.

I felt very lucky, very, very lucky—and not just because I was being saved from the dictator.