"This?" asked Jan-Michael, gesturing at his own nakedness, "or -- this?" he pointed at his groin, where his cock and balls had been replaced with a raw opening.
"Both. Either," growled the Captain, feeling his own balls shift in their sack. He stood up; hooked his thumbs in the top of his trousers; and walked to the other side of his field desk, which had been set up under a square of tenting fabric.
"I got caught by a Gutter -- critters like a donkey-sized elephant with a trunk that -- Oh, fuck-it-all, sir; I'd been wondering -- guys say that letting one of them take you is better than any other kind of sex it's possible to have, so . . ."
"So you let one eat your cock?"
"Yessir."
"And cut off your balls, going in?"
"Yessir."
The Captain perched on a corner of the field desk. He glanced around; a half-dozen Space Marines in their work uniforms sat or knelt on the ground nearby, all watching Jan-Michael. "And was it -- was it that good, getting eaten like that?"
"Y-yessir. And when I ate my balls, that was -- you know -- kind of weird, but I did that too."
The Captain found himself imagining his own prong being rasped away, felt thankful that his uniform was hiding his stiffening shaft. "Then how come it didn't go ahead and finish gutting you?"
"I don't know, sir; but after it bored in about as deep as my cock is -- that is, as long as it was before the Gutter ate it, it stopped drilling and pulled its trunk out."
"And then you came back here, to base camp?"
"Not right away -- I mean --"
"Something else?"
"Yessir." Jan-Michael blushed. "The hole -- you know --" he gestured at his groin again. "It began to itch, only that's not quite -- anyway, I really needed -- and I saw the Gutter was boning up a hardon itself -- or himself -- so I . . ."
"You let it fuck you?"
"Yessir." Jan-Michael's blush deepened. "Several times."
"And then?" asked the Space Marine biologist, a broad- shouldered young man in his early twenties.
"I stopped itching, so I hiked back here." Jan-Michael rubbed his taut pectoral muscles with his right hand, then let that hand slide down the hard ripple of his abdominal muscles.
"Well," said the Captain, "in the first place, you're not supposed to feed yourself to any of the local fauna -- or flora, too -- without prior permission. And in the second place, if you do, you're supposed to have somebody along to record your being eaten."
"Y-yessir."
"But instead of being gutted all the way . . . ," said the Captain.
". . . . I wound up like this." Jan-Michael gestured at his groin. "And since I got back -- sir, I'm itching down there again."
"Has anyone . . ."
"Offered to fuck me? Yessir, several of the guys said they'd be willing, but I thought I'd better . . ."
"Report to me first? Good lad." The Captain turned to the team's young biologist. "What do you think, Giles?"
"Well, sir, ever since he showed up, I've been as hard as a rock, and I rather suspect everyone else here is too. So -- I think we've got something here that needs checking out. If you need a volunteer . . ."
"Sorry, Giles; I need you to make a report afterwards. Instead . . ." The Captain flipped open his belt buckle, squirmed out of his shirt, dropped his trousers -- which momentarily hung up on his outthrust prong.
"But sir," objected a young Marine who had just finished stripping his own slender frame.
"Commander's priviledge," said the Captain. He pointed down. The naked young Marine knelt and pulled off the Captain's boots. The Captain straightened up, now stark naked and stiff-pronged, feeling the breeze slide over his torso and around his well- muscled legs. "But stand by, just in case we need another man."
The Captain turned to Jan-Michael. "Just -- anywhere?"
"Yessir. And -- and the sooner, the better. That's a real powerful itch."
At a gesture from the Captain; Jan-Michael dropped to his knees, stretched out on his back, spread his thighs wide, and raised them. The Captain took a deep breath, felt a little shiver run up his back, felt his already rigid shaft harden still more. He knelt on the cool moss between Jan-Michael's thighs, leaned forward, and settled down onto the powerfully muscled Marine: broad, bare chest on chest; lean, six-pack stomach on stomach. Jan-Michael wrapped his legs around the Captain's narrow waist. The Captain's shaft probed, found the fresh opening in Jan- Michael's groin, slid in to the hilt. Jan-Michael squirmed up against the Captain's impaling thrust. The Captain eased back, thrust again.
"Fit okay, sir?" asked Jan-Michael.
"Fits just fine," said the Captain as he started a slow, easy stroke with his hips and prong, a stroke that he gradually accelerated into a hard-pounding fuck. "In fact, we fit together almost too well."
"Sir?"
"That hole the gutter bored -- it shouldn't have any muscles, but I can feel it tightening around my prong, and it's really turning me on. And as for the tip -- my glans -- it's getting really sensitive now, almost as if . . ."
"Want to slow down?"
"We'd better." The Captain felt Jan-Michael's arms lock their naked torsos together, felt the muscular Marine's hands stroke the Captain's bare back and roam on down to pat the Captain's hard-muscled buttocks. For a few moments, they lay almost motionless, now and again thrusting deep, then slowly pulling back.
"Itch gone?" asked the Captain.
"Yessir, but --"
"You want me to go all the way before I pull out?"
"Yessir." Jan-Michael squirmed, then curled his hips up to meet the Captain's next stroke, and the next, and on into another spell of fast, hard fucking. They slowed again, just before the Captain reached the brink, accelerated again, slowed one more time, then -- as the Captain felt an eruption building in the roots of his throbbing shaft -- they pumped to a sperm-spurting climax that went on and on and on until the naked Captain had pumped himself dry.
"Wow," sighed the Captain, his prong still rock-hard, still buried to the hilt in Jan-Michael's crotch.
"That good?"
"That good. If fact, even better than being sucked off by a Gutter's supposed to be. Only . . ." The Captain lay motionless on -- and in -- the gelded Space Marine, checking himself out: sweat-slick skin on sweat-slick skin, muscle-sheathed chest on muscle-sheathed chest. Jan Michael's thighs were no longer locked around the Captain's waist. But somehow, the muscular Space Marine had clamped himself onto the Captain's cock -- still rock- hard -- and was slowly -- ever so slowly -- beginning to chafe his glans.
"I -- I think I know what you mean, sir. I'm not doing it, but I can feel something inside that -- that is."
"Giles," yelled the Captain, raising his head.
"Right here."
The Captain saw the biologist kneel alongside and felt his eyebrows go up as he realized the wide-shouldered biologist was naked and stiff-pronged. A quick glance showed the Captain that all the other Marines in sight were naked too, and most were paired up and fucking or sucking.
"I told them they could," said the naked biologist. "Jan- Michael here was -- is -- putting out something that's a really powerful turn-on."
"That's not all he's doing," growled the Captain.
"Can't pull out?" asked the biologist.
"Nope." The Captain squirmed, then relaxed with a contented sigh. "And he's started to work on my glans again."
"It isn't me that's doing it," said the muscular Marine spitted on the Captain's prong.
The biologist said, "Jan-Michael's right. The Gutter that fucked him must have planted a Gutter egg in his belly. The egg hatched, put out those sex lures that are turning us all on, and now it's starting to feed . . ."
" . . . on me."
The biologist nodded. "And on Jan-Michael, too. Plenty of muscle and guts on the two of you to keep it fed while it grows up. As it grows, it'll simply gut you both. Until then . . ."
". . . it's got my prong to work on. I can feel it grinding my glans off -- but I'm still hard, and . . ." The Captain took a deep breath, planted his hands on either side of Jan-Michael's broad chest, and straightened his arms. He looked down at the muscular Marine and felt himself smile as he asked, "Ready for another round, lad?"
Jan-Michael smiled back. "Ready, sir; let's fuck!"
