"Oh sorry Lance Corporal, I thought considering you were going to do my washing, I would make sure you got to do all of it," Vosloo said as he handed me his underpants, which he'd obviously just removed as they were still warm.
I resisted the temptation to put them to my nose and sniff deeply, in spite of the revulsion that I felt for the recent wearer of the item in question. I dropped them onto my lap and they fell with the inside of the pouch uppermost. A dark pubic hair curled and nestled where his scrotum had recently rested. I looked up to find Vosloo's eyes resting on my own and I quickly looked away from his amused gaze into the rest of the room.
"Come in. I'll show you where everything is," he said cordially, and stood to one side. His ample dick swung pendulously from side to side as he moved. Once again, in spite of myself I felt my own dick threaten to chub up in my pants. He was uncut and the veiny hood of his thick cock left the tip exposed just enough to reveal the pouting slit. His heavy ball sack peeked out from under the five inch long, soft snake that nestled on top on them.
I felt like a traitor to Ben for even noticing these details. Guilt and animosity warred with fascination and attraction and I clenched my jaw in resolve. As I wheeled my chair in, I looked up to find his amused smirk and his knowing eyes gesture me forward.
The door closed behind me and I paused so he could lead the way. He strode ahead of me and I saw that he had a definite tan line that left his muscular legs golden brown, and his juicy ass (fuck, did I just think that?) milky white. The two melon shaped globes alternated up and down, rubbing against each other as he walked ahead of me. He looked over his shoulder at me as I hesitated.
"Come, corporal," he urged gently. "The bathroom is this way." I inhaled deeply to calm my emotions.
It was clear to me that I was deeply conflicted about this man. I remembered fleetingly how attracted I had been to him only a day or so ago. It seemed like an eternity since I had last been alone with him. I had been stoned and he had taunted me, causing a spontaneous ejaculation in my gym shorts after a grueling workout. He and his cronies had then proceeded to subject the platoon to a five hour inspection that had resulted in Ben spending the night in my bed, culminating in love making that had bonded me intimately to the rough and gentle giant, who had won my heart in an instant.
His loss wrenched painfully in my gut and the bile of my bitter hatred for the man in front of me rose in my gullet. I shook myself out of my reverie and wheeled my chair to follow the provocative little bubble butt that guided me to the bathroom and my charmingly tedious afternoon as Vosloo's wash maid.
"Here's the basin, the washing powder and I'll help you get the water in and out. We'll have the whole afternoon together, `cos I realized that being in a chair, you wouldn't be able to bend forward far enough to fill the basin."
"I can kneel at the side of the bath, as long as there is something to protect my knees," I replied flatly, my voice betraying none of the emotion and exasperation I felt.
"That's much better. That means I can leave you to it and go and spend the afternoon somewhere else until you finish."
"What will you wear?" I asked, nodding at the small item of clothing in my lap. "I thought you wanted me to washeverything."
"Fuck, it looks like me and my bare ass will be your escorts for the afternoon after all. We can get to know each other a bit better..." A mocking smile played on his lips. I instantly regretted that I had given him an excuse to stay behind after all.
I looked at him and in spite of myself, my expression no doubt said `I can't wait.' I was done with this idiot's games. I would do what I was required to do and no more or less. I wasn't going to dignify his games with resistance or complicity.
He took a couple of towels off the towel rail at the end of the bath and bent down in front of me to fold and lay them on the floor outside the bath. As he bent down his buns separated and his moderately hairy asshole was revealed. He didn't try to hide anything and I couldn't help looking, as his hole was less than three feet from my nose. He stood up and turned to face me. Now his meaty dick was dangling within my grasp and he reached forward and spread his legs wide, on either side of my lap, to help me out of my chair.
"No, Lt. it's not necessary, I can manage!" I exclaimed in alarm, trying to fend his efforts at assistance off.
"Don't be stupid, Ben, let me help," he protested gently and gripped me under my arms and lifted, shuffling backwards wide-legged. When he reached the bath's edge he pushed my chair backwards with his foot.
I wondered at his use of my first name, as opposed to the customary use of my surname.
I was obliged to put my arms around his neck or let him carry my whole weight. Our faces were right up close and I was painfully aware of his soft dick nudging my own, with only the thin material of my shorts separating the two male organs. Absently I marveled at how pleasant the feeling of one soft cock against another felt. Again a wave of guilt flooded me and my face burned with shame and indignation.
My heart thumped in my chest and if he didn't feel it, he was completely oblivious. I'm sure he wasn't, judging by the wicked glint in his eyes.
"Shall we dance?" he confirmed my suspicions, holding me face-to-face in a close body-to-body grip, and then slowly sitting down on the side of the bath, my body inching slowly down his naked chest and crotch, eventually depositing me gently and neatly with my knees on the thick towel cushion next to the bath, in front of him. I was now face-to-crotch with him and to my dismay I found my mouth watering at the size and fleshiness of the dick that lay tantalizingly on the cushion of his big, hairy balls that were propped up by the rim of the bath on which he sat.
He leaned forward so that I was looking up at him from my kneeling position. He just looked into my eyes for a while. This guy was fucking with me, that much was clear. He was doing his best to entice me and I remembered my fears of entrapment earlier after Ben and I had told the troupe of our commitment. I had to be very careful to guard my physical responses.
"Let me do the washing, Lieutenant. Why don't you go and rest on your bunk? I can take it from here," I said evenly.
"Sure thing, Pretorius," he said, getting back to convention with my last name, and stood up, his cock dangling close enough to touch my forehead. I tried to lean away from him, the aroma of his private parts intoxicatingly close. But instead he stepped towards and over me, and the tip brushed my short hair.
"Have fun," he said in parting and left the bathroom.
I took a moment to calm myself. I felt like chattel, a plaything at the mercy of this man who clearly took great pleasure in tormenting me. Under normal circumstances I would either be entitled to challenge, accept him, or rebuff him, depending on whether I was into his advances or not, but because we were in the incredibly unnatural and skewed army environment, I was reduced to playing the submissive role in a master-slave relationship not of my own choosing. Regardless of Vosloo's orientation, it was clear that he derived pleasure from humiliating and taunting me.
One thing and another, I had a job to do and I got on with it as best as I could. I filled the bath with warm water and added soap, washed the clothes and wrung them out and dumped them into the basin to rinse when I was done. It felt awkwardly intimate to be washing Vosloo's undergarments. Of course, like all men, there were piss stains and some brown marks on the inside and I had to fight to control my urge to put the garments to my nose and sample his male pheromones.
`Oh fuck it,' I thought and lifted the crotch of a white pair to my nose and sniffed deeply. Saliva flooded my mouth as I had a graphic picture of me sucking his hairy asshole sneak its way across the canvas of my depraved mind. Always judge and executioner, my heart pointed out my fickleness and a deep sense of loss and grief outlined the absence of Ben Jordaan on my life yet again.
Vosloo had a confusing effect on me. On the one hand I had every reason to believe that he had initiated Ben's detention, if Parvus' confession to me was anything to go by. And as such I hated him with every fibre of my being. It was only my strong sense of self-preservation that caused me to refrain from confronting him. I may be gay, and I may be small, but I had always resisted bullies and he seemed to be one of the worst: the kind that hid behind their position. When he was gentle with me, on the other hand, as he had been at times during my therapy, I suspected that there was a sensitive human being hiding behind a façade of heartlessness. Not that I had had much opportunity to encounter that side of him since it was always hidden by his brash, insensitive side before one could get the wrong idea.
As I was pondering this train of thought, I heard the slap of bare feet on the linoleum, and Adolph Vosloo made an appearance again. It was about an hour later, I judged.
"Hey Bennie, do you want something cold to drink? I've got Coke, fruit juice, water...beer?"
"Thanks Lt. I'll just carry on with the washing. I'm almost done, then I'll start rinsing."
"Oh come on, Lance Corporal," he murmured, suddenly right next to me and I could feel the warmth of his body against my neck. "Don't be like that. Let me get you a beer. It's been a long, hard day and I want us to be friends." I smelled his breath as he leaned down to speak into my ear and I realized he had already been drinking some of the proffered beer. Then he whispered into my ear:
"Jy maak my mal Bennie, met jou sexy boudjies en jou dimpels. Hoekom moet jy so fokken oulik wees? Jy probeer die Luitenant verlei. Ek kan sien hoe dit werk!" (You drive me mad with your sexy buns and your dimples. Why do you have to be so fucking cute? You are trying to lead the Lt. astray. I can see how it works!)
His voice was like aromatic oil that at once paralysed and confused me. Seduction trailed its serpentine tendrils down my neck where his breath played, while menace clenched its icy claws in my abdomen.
I could feel his breath against my cheek and my heart threatened to jump out of my chest. Panic raced up and down my spine, as it appeared my worst fear was to be realized. I knew that I was possibly about to be raped and wouldn't be able to defend myself effectively at all. He reached his left arm over my shoulder with his stubbled cheek nudging my own on the right sliding his hand down my abdomen and gently over, onto my disconcertingly chubbed dick. He gently squeezed my basket and planted a lingering kiss on my right cheek.
"What do you say pretty boy? Will you share a beer with your Lieutenant?" He whispered and straightened up.
"Your knees must be quite sore by now," he said, in almost an ordinary tone, as if the seductive words of a moment before had never occurred.
"Sure Lt. a beer would be really nice," I answered in a husky voice, grasping at the appearance of normality that thinly veiled the bizarre situation in which I found myself. "Thanks for offering."
"Here, let me carry you to my bed. Your legs must be cramping badly. I will rub them for you." Suddenly the professional therapist, there was no way for me to object without drawing attention to his behaviour of a moment before and indeed I was only too keen to pretend it had never happened.
He reached down and picked me up, putting his right arm behind my back and his left under my knees. I put my right arm around his neck to hold on a bit to lighten the load, but he was a strong man and I seemed to be no great burden to him. During therapy we had been in exactly this position before, barring his nakedness, so it was just possible to pretend that everything was OK.
"Here we go," he said cheerfully, as this naked man carried me to his bed like a bride and deposited me gently with my back against the wall so I was sitting and could straighten my legs. He was right, I was cramping badly. I hadn't noticed it as I contemplated my pathetic fate while doing his laundry. As he made his way to his bar fridge (a perk that only rank were allowed) to retrieve a couple of beers, I tried unsuccessfully to straighten my legs.
"I'll sort out those legs of yours in no time Bennie," he said as he swaggered back, his pendulous dick swinging from side to side.
"Lt. Dolfie has just the right medicine," He said as he casually reached to his balls and pulled at his sack to relieve an itch. His brazen sexuality at once chilled and aroused me. He cracked the tab of the beer and slurped the foam that bubbled out of the opening before handing me the ice cold beverage. He had a foam moustache and in spite of myself I couldn't help smiling at him. (Fuck, for a heartless cunt he was very cute).
"Wha-a-at? Oh!" he smiled artlessly and stuck his tongue out of his full, pink lips and squinted downwards to try to retrieve the offending froth. His eyebrows shot up as I shook my head to show that he hadn't succeeded. He leaned in to me and to my surprise I found myself using my thumb to wipe the white substance off his stubbled top lip.
"Mooi so!" (Great stuff!) he said, and took my hand and sucked it off my digit with a "Mmmmm!" I quickly snatched my hand from his grasp and he just smiled knowingly.
"Lay back. I'll get the Voltaren and do my magic. Enjoy your beer."
I watched him walk away, buck naked and cocky as all hell and I was extremely confused. He had the power to change from Jekyll to Hyde, switching from psychopathic monster to charming Don Juan in a heartbeat. I struggled to hold on to my dislike as he evidently wove a web of forgetfulness around my aching and bitter heart.
When he returned with the healing gel, he proceeded to massage my stumps and thighs, making general conversation about nothing in particular while I slowly sipped my beer. I tried to remind myself not to get sucked in by his apparent goodwill. This was a man who had actively expressed his hatred of homosexuals, and had apparently gone as far as to ruin a man's life to accomplish his own ends.
Occasionally he reached for his beer, and took a large swig. As he firmly worked the kinks out of my muscles, all the weirdness of earlier seemed like a preposterous figment of my imagination, a thirst-induced mirage on a fantastic landscape of military improbability; A naked officer sharing a beer with a gay amputee in the intimacy of his quarters—on his bed, no less.
What could possibly go wrong?
I must have fallen asleep as he worked on my stumps. I awoke with a start and tried to orientate myself in the strange surroundings. Slowly I came to my senses and remembered where I was and that I still had all the washing to rinse before I was done. The light in the room had changed. It was clearly late afternoon. I heard voices in the bathroom, and, because my chair wasn't nearby, I couldn't investigate.
Just then Lt. Dolf came out of the bathroom, still as naked as the day he was born.
"I'm sorry sir, I fell asleep... Lieutenant. Can I ask you to please bring my chair closer so I can get into the bathroom to finish the rinsing? The stuff will never get dry if I don't see to it soon."
"Don't worry, Benny, I got a friend of yours to come and finish up for you."
Just then Wessels came out of the bathroom on his crutch.
"The rinsing is done Lt." He waved at me in greeting. "Hey Bennie."
There was a knock at the door. The officer walked over, opened it and beckoned somebody inside. An able-bodied soldier walked in, saluted the naked man, nodded at the footless soldier who was wiping the sleep from his eyes lying on the officer's bed and walked into the bathroom to retrieve the basket of wet washing.
"Here, take these coins and go and load the driers at the laundry. If you find stuff being dried by a soldier, take their stuff out and put mine in."
`Bleeding heart to the very end,' I thought.
"Permission to be dismissed, sir," I asked.
"Negative, Pretorius, I still have some work to do with you," he said. Turning to Wessels: "Dismissed, soldier. You know what to do?"
"I do sir," Wessels answered and nodded a greeting in my direction.
I was puzzled, but knew better than to question an officer. He probably wanted me to shine his boots or do some ironing. I would have to miss supper, as it was due not too long from now. He must have read my mind.
"Don't worry Bennie, I've take care of supper. Wessels will be back soon."
"Yes, sir. Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?" He appeared to think for a moment.
"Well, my shoulders are quite tight from massaging your legs all afternoon. You think you could give the therapist some therapy?" I did a mental double take. He sat down on the bed in front of me and slid in between my stumps.
"No need for me to take my shirt off, hey?" he sniggered, nodding down at his flaccid penis.
How the fuck had I ended up in this situation? I was about to massage the shoulders of the twisted fucker that had made my lover disappear.
As he sat before me, the gracious V of his gorgeous back flaring to either side of the succulent buns at the base, I put my hands on his shoulders and the radiant warmth from the sun-kissed slabs of muscle on either side of his neck. In spite of myself I slid my hands down to the sides to stroke his shoulders and his upper biceps.
"Mmm, Pretorius, you're a good boy," he purred. "You have great hands."
On the side table I saw a small vial of oil, so I stretched over but couldn't quite reach. Vosloo noticed and leaned back into me with his back against my chest, then sensuously slid against my torso to retrieve the massage oil for me. As he handed it to me over his shoulder, I caught sight of his erect cock nestling against his abdomen.
Vosloo chuckled.
"Don't worry Bennie, besides, we're not doing anything illegal. You're giving your officer a massage. The fact that little Dolfie is interested..."
He took my right hand and guided it around his body to connect with his rigid cock. I pulled it away quickly.
His voice wheedled: "C'mon, I know you like cock, Bennie, why not play with mine. You have such a pretty mouth... "
"Please just hand me the oil sir."
I was about to pour some oil into my hand when Wessels knocked at the door and opened it slowly.
"Lieutenant?" he inquired hesitantly and when Vosloo nodded at the head that popped around the door, he pushed it open and an able-bodied soldier wheeled in a trolley laden with food. Vosloo didn't bother to get out of my embrace or hide his hard dick.
I blushed because it looked like I was in on a seduction. I shook my head at Wessels who made a tiny gesture with his hand to acknowledge.
"Come Corporal, let's have some supper. Soldier, bring his chair from the bathroom," he ordered the trolley man.
When the chair arrived, he effortlessly lifted me off the bed and placed me in it. Then he courteously pushed me over to a table and started transferring food and drinks over from the trolley.
I realised with a mental shudder that I was being romanced. I couldn't believe I hadn't twigged earlier. Ordering me to report to his quarters to do his washing was just a way of getting me alone. All of a sudden I was very, very scared and super-vigilant of his every move and my surroundings.
Impaling me with his leonine gaze, he poured me another beer and when he was done, sat himself down opposite me with a smile and a sigh.
"Isn't this nice?" He lifted his glass with a questioning look and waited until I did the same.
"To you, Bennie." The way he said my name was saturated with seductive menace and allure. "To your recovery, and to our growing friendship." The last words were heavy with husky significance.
Wordlessly I paused as he clicked his beer glass against mine. I pretended to sip from it as he took a deep swig.
"Eat up. You must build up your strength for when you get your new legs."
I picked at my food while he ate with great relish and gusto, all the while making animated conversation to which I answered with single syllables. He didn't appear to notice. He was also beginning to get a flush on his attractive face, which told me the beer was beginning to have an effect.
He leaned over the table towards me and put his hand on mine. He smiled his charming smile.
"You know Bennie," he crooned in his most beguiling tone, "you were too good for that farm hick from the Free State. He was niks gewoond (not accustomed to class). I did you a favour by making him disappear. Don't you think so?"
Although his words were like a dash of icy water to the face, I felt rage flare up in my gut like a blow torch, fueled by months of being at the mercy of no-good weaklings like this parody of manhood that presumed to know what was good for me. Violently I pulled my hand out of his, I picked up my mostly untouched beer and flung the contents in his incredulous face. I shoved the table towards him and the remaining food and cutlery and crockery slid into his still naked lap with a terrific clatter. I couldn't control the torrent of words and emotion that poured like bile from deep inside of me, from the place where all the resentment about losing my legs to a senseless war, and my pain and grief about the loss of my sweet Ben Jordaan, festered like a gaping, maggot-infested wound.
"You...you useless piece of shit, you have no idea what or who Ben Jordaan is, because you have no concept of honour and class. You control, manipulate and use people for your own ends, and I would be wasting my breath telling how worthless you are. Take your fucking bribes, your cute little pretending-to-be-straight ass, and after fucking your thick officer self off, leave me alone."
Vosloo stood up and the mess on his lap plummeted to the floor with a further crash. In a flash he was at my side. With speed that had me breathless he spun my chair around, raced me towards the bed and just as we reached it, suddenly stopped, sending me flying helpless through to air to land in a heap just short of the wall. I was still trying to collect myself when he had my shorts down around my knees, my asshole and balls were hauled towards his grasping paws in short order.
He flipped me onto my back and his face was a mask of rage and hatred. He spat out his words, and his spittle hit me in the face.
"Klein mofgat, jy dink jy kan my terg met jou mooi gesiggie en jou koketterige houdinkie. Jy dink ek gaan jou nie gee wat jy soek nie? Ek dog ek sal jou eers bietjie soos 'n ordentlike meisie behandel voor ek jou steek met my boerepiel soos wat jy al weke smeek. Maar nee, jy wil hê ek moet jou poesie met geweld vat. So ek sal jou gee wat jy soek
(Little queer, you think you can tease me with your pretty little face and coquettish attitude? You think I'm not going to give you what you're looking for? I thought I would first treat you like a decent girl before I fuck you with my Afrikaans cock as you've been begging me to do for weeks now. But no, you want me to take your little cunt violently. I'll grant you your wish!)
He pinned me down with his full weight and his beer-breath was right up against my face. His hazel eyes glittered hatred and lust, a lethal cocktail of denial-induced desperation and violence. His knees forced mine wide and since I didn't have any feet of my own to fight him off with, and he held my arms above my head in a vice-like grip of determination, I was helpless to fight him off.
I grunted and groaned and flailed my head from side to side to try and avoid the snake of his tongue that sought to invade my mouth with his misdirected affords at passion. I spat at his face and my saliva ran down his nose and onto his contorting lips. I shouted out my defiance with the full knowledge that I was about to be raped because a cowardly man was confused by his unwanted attraction to me, the representation of his craven perversions.
"You can try to take by force what is Ben's, but you will never deserve my love the way he does," I roared as he tried to force his raging hard dick into my unwilling anus. I thrashed from side to side, thwarting his efforts for the time being, but I was rapidly tiring.
"Admit you want it, you queer whore! You let that worthless bastard take you; why are you too good for me then? What has he got that I haven't?" he screamed right into my face.
Just when I was so exhausted that I couldn't resist him any longer the door burst open and a pair of huge MPs, followed by the chaplain and a horde of disabled soldiers led by Peter, poured into the room.
"Help me, please help me!" I screamed as Vosloo bit me viciously on my cheek in a last-ditch effort to quell my resistance. He roared his frustration and rage as he was forcefully dragged off my naked body by the military police. They wrestled him to the ground as the screamed and thundered like a man possessed.
While this cabal was happening in the background, my platoon and the Chaplain rushed over to me. Wessels threw a blanket over my body to cover my nakedness, but Peter was the man who pulled my shorts up to cover my shame.
Vosloo howled as he was dragged out of the room.
"Bennie, Bennie, I'm sorry, my Bennie, I didn't want to hurt you, I just want you to have the best! I just want you to want me like you want that worthless cripple. Please believe me! Major," he begged the Chaplain, "please let me talk to Pretorius! Bennie, please tell them I didn't mean to hurt you!"
His shouts and protests could be heard as he was dragged out of the room and down the passage, an undignified mess of a man, confused by his own treacherous desires. Betrayed by his own heart and body. Proven by his actions to be exactly what he had accused the innocent Ben Jordaan of being: a boy-lover.
Inexplicably, I felt heartbroken for him, because he didn't have the courage and grace to do what my dear, lost Ben had done when he had relinquished his grip on orthodox masculinity, by taking the plunge to love a gay boy when he got the chance.
My friends gathered me up and restored me to my chair. The chaplain inquired whether I was physically injured. I assured him that, except for the bite on my cheek (and my injured pride) I was unharmed.
"Come gay boy, let's take you to the medic for a tetanus shot," Wessels commanded me. He reached down and hugged me to him.
"Jissis, Bennie, wat doen jy aan mans dat hulle so mal word oor jou?" (Jesus, Bennie, what do you do to men that they go mad for you?)
He kissed me on the cheek.
"Moenie worrie nie, jy's nou ok. Ons het jou." (Don't worry, you're ok now. We have you.)