The Awakening
Chapter 7
Late at night, Mendez woke to whisp..
🕑 Added 2022-07-27 16:32:18 +0000 UTC
The Awakening
Chapter 7
Late at night, Mendez woke to whispering coming from outside of the tent. He looked over at O’brian’s cot and saw it was once again empty. Mendez quietly got up from his cot and looked outside. In the darkness, he could make out Cooper leading Smith out of the tent the privates shared. Mendez waited for the two men to get some distance before he dressed and followed the two men across the camp toward the temple. He could hear Smith complaining to Cooper.
“Why do we have to go there? Why not just go into the latrine? Hernandez said you were in their earlier sucking off one of those old pervs. He said you were really getting off on sucking his cock,” Smith whispered.
“Come on, don't be scared, man. I thought you said you were horny,” Cooper gave a low laugh.
“Fuck you, Coop. You better not tell any of the guys about this. I am no faggot, like you.”
Cooper laughed, “I know man, a mouth is a mouth.”
From their conversation it was obvious that Cooper had promised Smith a blow job. The cocky and horny Smith was so desperate to get off, even if it meant getting a blow job from a guy.
“Damn, dude, what did you take to get so jacked all of a sudden,” Smith whispered as he took in his fellow marine’s smooth, wide, v-shape back.
Cooper just laughed and whispered under his breath, “you will find out soon.”
Mendez followed the two men into the temple, but stayed back as not to be seen. The archeologists had uncovered more of the huge complex, opening up new passages, as a result Mendez grew lost. He was making his way through the dark passages and cobwebs, when he heard a deep masculine yell.
“No man, fuck off.” “Help!” It was unquestionably Sean’s voice yelling for help.
The scream for help then turned to screams of pain. Mendez quickly tried to head toward the screams, but they echoed through the dark halls making it difficult for him to find where they were coming from. Mendez suddenly emerged onto a galley overlooking the altar chamber and almost fell off the balcony. He quickly pulled himself back behind the doorway.
When Mendez peeked around the corner, he saw Private Smith impaled on the statue’s lap. The marine’s camie pants were shredded exposing his legs and ass leaving them vulnerable. His screams had died down by the time Mendez reached the high gallery and the marine was now moaning. The tough marine was laying against the statue of J’ong-Ra with a look of blissful pleasure on his masculine handsome face. From Mendez’s viewpoint it appeared that the statue was holding Smith’s limp body, guiding the marine up and down on the thick stone cock. Smith’s mouth was hanging open while drool ran down his chiseled chin. Professor Hussein and members of the archeological team were kneeling before the dais, in white and gold robes, chanting “J’ong Ra”. Mendez saw both Cooper and O’brian standing to the right of the statue’s podium. The younger men were wearing only pure white loincloths adored with gold chains around their narrow waists. Their faces were blank as their fellow marine was moaning, and the white loincloths were pushed forward by their hard throbbing cocks.
Suddenly the private threw back his head and arched his back as he let out a deep cry. His entire body shook as wave after wave of cum erupted from the marine’s cock. Unable to cum anymore, Smith collapsed exhausted against J’ong-Ra. As Smith was lifted from the stone phallus, Mendez noticed the white liquid oozing from both the Marine’s violated ass and the statue’s stone cock as it popped out of Smith’s ass. The statue no longer appeared as white marble but now had a living skin tone to it.
Corporal Hector Mendez was so absorbed in what he was witnessing in the chamber below him that, despite all his training, he didn’t notice the figure moving behind him in the darkness. Suddenly there was a sneering pain on the side of his head and everything went black.
Mendez awoke in a small, poorly lit chamber deep inside the pyramid. He tried to move but he quickly discovered that his hands were bound behind his back by pieces of his own torn t-shirt. The dark room wasn’t even tall enough for a grown man to stand straight in. In the middle of the room was a small lantern that provided the only source of light and heat in the small dark, damp room. By the lantern sit a middle eastern man dressed as one of the site’s manual workers.
“Where am I? Who are you,” Mendez asked as he tried to struggle against the bounds.
“Quiet, American,” the stranger hissed in disgust. His accent betrayed his nationality as Iraqi. His face was dirty yet handsome with a trimmed dark beard and dark eyes.
“Listen, I don’t know who you are, but there's some weird shit going on here. My men are in trouble,” Mendez pleaded.
“You have no idea, American,” the stranger whispered to himself.
“Tell me please, what's going on here, who are you,” Mendez pleaded while continuing to pull at his restraints.
Mendez muscular, thick arms flexing and bulging as he pulled at the remains of his own shirt tied tightly to his wrist
The middle eastern man paused as he looked at the American marine. He had been observing the marines for some time, and knew they were victims, and not aware of the true danger they were facing. The stranger realized he had no choice but to trust Mendez. He needed help even if it was from an American. He never trusted Americans before but what he witnessed was too much for him to stop alone.
“I’m Omar, American. My caliph of the Islamic republic had sent me and my team here to stop those heretics.”
“You ISIS? Where are your men.” Mendez was suddenly concerned about the added threat of ISIS fighters.
“They were captured,” Omar lowered his head in shame and stared into the fire of the lantern. “They were sacrificed to the infidels’s false god, just like your men. They are now his slaves.”
“Look, man, I’m sorry. We have to work together and stop what's going on here. I want to save my men and get home to my family and kids,” Mendez tried to reason with the Jihadish fighter. “I have access to explosives and not all of my men have been taken over yet.”
Omar was quiet as he thought over what the American marine was saying.
“What intel do you have on what’s going on, who behind this, what they are planning. Anything you have will help,” Mendez knew he was getting to Omar.
“My Caliph said they called themselves the Cartel, a group of rich and powerful heretics with close ties with your evil government,” Omar replied disgusted and split on the dirt floor. “They are trying to raise the devil himself. That J’ong Ra needs the testosterone of virtual warriors to awaken. And your own government has sent you and your men here to be sacrificed! When my caliph discovered what was happening, he sent his best fighters here to destroy this false god.”
If he hadn't seen what he had seen, Mendez would have thought the extremist was insane. He knew they were not up against the devil. However, they were up against something unexplainable.
“Ok, we got to work together. We have no other choice. There are already too many of them.”
The jhadish was silent as he thought it over. He then stood up and pulled out his knife. Bending over so as not to hit his head on the low ceiling, Omar approached the marine and cut the bounds.
“Thank you,” Mendez rubbed his wrist once freed .
“What your plan American,” Omar returned to where he was sitting.
At sunrise, the two men made their way out of the pyramid and into the marines camp. They couldn’t trust anyone and both kept close to the tents to hide as they made their way to the ammunition storage. Mendez stopped as he saw four more of his men being led out of the temple pyramid, two by two. Ridgeway, Rodriguez, Westbrook, and Martinez wore only jockstraps and their heavy combat boots, as each was led by an archeologist. Each marine had dazed, blissful looks on their faces as the older men freely stroked and groped their exposed smooth buttocks. Their bodies were flawless, sweat glistening from their more defined bodies while their jockstraps displayed huge hardons.
From across the camp, Mendez could hear his last remaining men being ambushed in showers by their own fellow marines. They were outnumbered and out muscled, as their naked bodies were attacked in the showers. Their screams and yells for help went unanswered.
Mendez started to head toward his men but Omar put a hand on the Corporal’s shoulder and whispered, “you can’t help them. It's too late.”
“You right, but I feel like I’m betraying them if I don’t help them,” Mendez whispered as he watched his men being carried naked over their former friends’ shoulders. Their naked asses facing the pyramid where they would be sacrificed and converted into slaves for J’ong-Ra.
“The only way to save them is to stop this,” Omar tried to reassure his new ally.
The two men continued to make their way to the ammunition storage while avoiding the chaos around them. They passed tents where marines were laying face down on their cots in or in front of the door ways. Their now flawless, perfectly muscular asses on display waiting for their new masters to come and use them.
When Omar and Mendez reached weapons and ammunition storage, instead of the tent being guarded as normal, the marine on duty, Hernandez, was on his knees giving one of the archeologists a blow job. The boy was naked except for his helmet, dog tags, and combat boots. With the archeologist's eyes closed and moaning loudly, while the inexperienced marine was gagging on the older man’s thick cock, Mendez and Omar were able to slip into the tent without being detected. They each took an assortment of weapons and ammunition, and enough C4 to blow up the temple. They were out of the tent and heading to their hideout by the time the older man shot his load into the marine’s mouth.
