I bolt awake, sitting up immediately upon opening my eyes. A sense of dread encompasses me. Sgt Tate is nowhere to be seen. I realize that it is just a dream gone bad. I can't recall what I was dreaming, but it felt empty. So this is how my last day here begins.
Jumping out of bed with a rush of energy, I race downstairs wearing off the negativity of the dream with every step.
I call for him, "Sgt Tate! Sgt Tate!"
Nothing moves in the office, in the kitchen, or the living room. Tard is nowhere to be seen either. I run downstairs into the gym and the dungeon. Their stillness matches the other floors.
I stand alone in the dungeon. Its emptiness reminds me of being left at the rest area the first night. I see the cage that had Boris in it. It lays empty. There is the rimseat Randy was under last night. The fuck bench where Tard got his annual fucking is next to it. I find it kinda weird that he never fucked me down here.
I hear metal clanking in the distance. It is behind me.
Turning around I follow the thuds and the clanks. Through the gym and the workroom, I walk into the final room to see a bloody hatchet swing down.
Sgt Tate is the one who is wielding the blade. He stands facing away from me--naked except for the rubber apron that wraps his front and sides. That asscrack of his looks so good nearly covered by the apron.
"Look who's awake" Tard tells Sgt Tate.
Sgt Tate turns a half turn, "Daniel." As he turns the light behind him highlights his round meaty ass. The apron's ties hang into the crack. I am transfixed. Sgt Tate repeats, "Daniel."
"Yes Sir."
"Go put some clothes on then come back down here. We're almost done."
As I turn to leave when I finally notice what is on the coroner's table, what they are cutting up. The buck I killed is in pieces. The meat is already divided and wrapped up, and the hide is off to the side. Tard throws some bones into a large bucket.
I race upstairs and put my clothes on--nothing really spectacular, just pants and a shirt. I begin to race downstairs, but with each step I slow down. My thoughts focus on something that a week ago was a full-grown animal is now in pieces of meat on a table.
I know this is the reality of hunting. I know that this is how we evolved over the ages. It's just weird to see it so brutally presented to me. A strong sense of anxiety overcomes me as I continue to walk down the stairs to the basement. The morning's sense of dread only adds to my mood.
Rounding the corner, I see Sgt Tate placing the venison in a large cooler, obviously to take home with us. Tard is cleaning up off to the side. Neither sees me.
Sgt Tate picks up the cooler and places it on the floor. His muscles strain from its weight. As he stands, the apron twists, exposing his left nipple. He looks so fucking hot like that.
Catching me looking at him, he says, "You like what you see?" He gives his nipple a quick tweak. I just stand there looking at him. He smiles. "Come see what you got here."
I walk over to him. He turns around and bends over the steel table. I don't care what he is reaching for. His ass is in clear view. The further he leans, the more his crack opens up. But it is only a second. I flirt, "I like what you have. I would love to eat it."
Turning around, Sgt Tate quickly responds, "And I could go for a good ass cleaning. But that is not what I am referring to. Here."
In his hands are the buck's antlers. They are so large. They are still attached to the bodiless head.
Tard interrupts from behind me, "Them in good shape. I can have that stuffed and mounted for ya."
I have no clue what to do with it. Am I supposed to take it?
"You earned this. Not many men get a trophy on their first outing--let alone on their first shot, and a ten-point buck to boot! Don't worry, Tard will have it to you in no time."
"Great."
Sgt Tate busts out laughing. "Boy! You are freaked out by this?" I just nod. "Pussy. Don't worry. You dad will hang it somewhere. You just have to tell him over and over that it is yours and not his."
"Why don't you keep it here? You don't have one anywhere."
He laughs, "Because I don't want something that god awful staring at me." He gives a subtle wink.
Tard walks up. "I know this man. He'll do ya right." Grabbing the head, he adds, "Sarge, I'll finish cleaning down here for you."
"That sounds like a good idea." He unties his apron and removes it, standing completely naked, the lighting hitting him just right to show off both his hairy body and the musculature. While not hard, his cock is half hard. Both Tard and I are speechless. "Alright boys, you have seen me naked before." He tugs his cockhead, torturing both of us. "Dan, upstairs! Tard, clean this place up."
After a nudge, I turn to go upstairs. Being in front of him, I don't even get to see him naked.
"Have you packed?"
"Pretty much Sir."
"Good. Bring your bags down. Make us something to eat. I'll be in the shower. Better pack a lunch for us; we have a long ride ahead."
I go into my room and put the last part of my stuff in my bag. Heading to retrieve my laptop from Sgt Tate's bedroom, I notice that the bathroom door is closed, with the sound of the shower barely heard.
Looking around, this is the last time I will be in this room. So much has happened here. The sex, the cuddling, the breakfasts, and the showers are offset with the arguments. Still, I want to keep being here forever.
Before tears can run down my cheek, I leave with my laptop under my arm.
Bringing my bag down, I set it by the door. Breakfast is cranked out in no time. I even make several sandwiches for the road for not only Sgt Tate and me, but also for Tard. A few apples and several bottles of waters complete the food for the long drive.
Sgt Tate comes down only wearing his running shorts. His bulge is extremely prominent.
"Something smells good."
I point to the table, "Right over there, Sir. I not only made breakfast, but I also made us all lunch to take with us."
"Sounds good. Tard is staying here a few days by himself."
"Alone?"
"Yeah. He's going to close up the place for the season. I have him working on some structural things, basic construction."
"You trust him?"
Sgt Tate instantly reaches over and slaps me upside my head. "There was a mosquito on your cheek. Ask your question again."
"You trust him?"
With the same hand he backhands me on the other cheek. "The mosquito moved to the other side. What was your question?"
Ok, I get it. He's insulted by my question. "No question Sir."
"Oh, I thought you were asking about me trusting Tard. Strange, that's what I thought I heard. Anyways, . . . I trust Tard with my life without question. Not many have that designation. Speaking of Tard, shouldn't he be up here eating?"
"Yes Sir." I pause. "I'll go get him."
Tard is still cleaning up, when I tell him to come and eat. When I return to the dining room table, Sgt Tate is finishing up. I serve Tard and then clean up after Sgt Tate.
He goes into the office.
I wash his dishes up and join him in the office. He sits on one of the chairs now placed on the very spot where I was tortured, staring out at the lake.
I walk up to him and place my hand on his massive shoulder.
"I come here ever time I get ready to leave. I love this view. This lodge was built around this view. I wanted both my bedroom above and this room to have the lake as its focal point. I want my last memory of this place to be of this sight. Every time is difficult to pull away."
I walk around and kneel in front of him. I wrap my arms around his side, the best I can. My chin rests on his sternum. I look into his eyes. "You don't have to. You can stay. I can be here with you. I don't have to go back. We can do this. Sir, we can be together, forever."
For a good minute, he just stares into my eyes. I don't dare move an inch. He curls his lips into a courteous smile and places his hand on my head, "Dan, you know, it wouldn't be right. It just wouldn't work. We want different things from each other. No, we need different things from each other. I have over thirty years experience on you. I know what I am talking about."
I sink onto my heels, effectively pulling away from his hairy torso.
"I care about you Dan; I really do. But I'm sorry."
My eyes start to tear up. I can't believe that this is the end. This is the second time that I am shredded in this same spot. Boris physically did it three nights ago, but Sgt Tate with a few words has done more to me than Boris ever could. After all the time here together, I will return home to my father with my heart ripped out.
"We need to hit the road. Let's load up."
I don't move. I can't.
After remaining still for a minute or so, with his eyes starting to tear up, Sgt Tate bolts out of the room. That only adds to my heartbreak. I fall over on the empty chair, in full sob.
I cannot make a thought of anything at the moment. Everything is so jumbled.
How could this happen? Why? Fuck! What am I to do? I have to go home to my dad and pretend that this was the best vacation I ever had, when I feel that it is the worst. Fuck you Tate for doing this.
I do not move for a while.
"Dan?" Tard comes into the office to find me on the chair. "Whatcha doin' down there?" I sit up. Looking up at him I see his face go from being inquisitive to sympathetic. He knows the feeling I am going through with my rejection from Sgt Tate. "I'm sorry. It's probably for the best." He helps me stand. "You ain't gonna know that for a while, but it really is for the best."
I start to stand, and he helps me up. "I know. But I don't want to . . ."
"Now, no more talkin'. You need to be getting' on the road. Sarge and me loaded up the truck, and he's waiting for you."
"Thank you Tard. I mean, Larry . . . Is that right?"
"Yup! Larry Joe Mason. Don't call me Larry; that's what the old lady call me. Larry Joe is better."
"Thank you Larry Joe." He smiles. Walking me to the door, we step out on the deck, right next to the spot where I first ate Sgt Tate's ass. The Marine is already in the truck with his cigar hanging out of his mouth.
"Listen here, boy. It will be all right. Best to get him out of your system now."
"Thanks."
He hugs me, and then kisses my forehead. "Go."
I walk down to the truck. Sgt Tate doesn't say a word as we pull out. I look back at the lodge and see Tard waving in the exact spot where Sgt Tate and I waved to my dad at the beginning of this vacation. I wave back to him, but for some reason, it feels like I am waving good-bye to the lodge.
It is now I notice that Tard is wearing one of his wolf T-shirts. I smile, but only briefly.
During the next six hours not much is said. Everything is in silence except for his music, with my quiet sobs every once in a while.
As I look over at him, I see that he too has changed. His confidence is gone from his face. He almost looks worried. I can't devote any more time to figuring him out.
Staring out the side window, I see farm after farm passing by, each one isolated from the next. Occasionally I see some men working in the fields, even on a Sunday. Looking around, there can't be a couple hundred of farmers and their families as far as the eye can see. That would make about a hundred men. Of them, how many would let me suck him off? I don't think that there would be many, a dozen or so? In easily twenty, fifty or a hundred square miles, there are only a dozen men to suck off? I don't see that my life with other men will offer me anything. Am I going to turn into Tard, always pining for Sgt Tate, get married like my dad wants me to, and live an empty life?
I start to cry based on my realization of the bleakness of my life. I reach up to wipe a tear from my right eye, and hit the wrong nerve. A jolt of pain comes to my bruised eye. It's been pain free for the past couple days, but now I must have hit it just right.
I gasp. I had forgotten about my eye.
Sgt Tate looks over at me. "What is it?"
I pull the visor down and look at myself in the mirror. "It's my eye. What am I going to tell him? How did I get this?"
"You could tell him the truth?"
In a snit, I respond, "What? That the man he respected passed his son over to a sadistic man whose daughter he just happened to knock up?"
"Boy, you can knock the sarcasm off, or I'll dump your sorry ass off here. If not the truth, why do you need to tell him anything?"
"He's going to notice."
"But what are you afraid of?"
"He's going to find out that I am gay!"
"Because Boris punched you in the face over something that he did will tell him that you are gay?"
"No!"
"So tell him that you are gay. Get it over with."
"I can't."
"You are going to have to tell him one day. You can't keep living this lie. It's wrong to go back to hiding that you suck cock. Have you considered what you are going to say?"
"No. You haven't admitted that you are gay to anyone."
Raising an eyebrow at me, he pauses and changes the subject. "You need to figure something out."
"He will kick me out of the house!"
"So what? You can't be indecisive about this. You spent a whole day trying to tell me that you didn't want to eat my shit, and look what happened, because you were scared of a little confrontation, you wound up eating my shit. He will kick you out of the house? So . . . what?"
I can't believe what he is saying. My life would come to an end. I don't make much money, and I have no idea how a fag would survive in my small town. I don't get why I need to tell anyone. "I have nothing. I don't have a car. I won't have a house. I barely have a job."
"Listen, the other day when you were arguing with me you asked me . . ."
I can't handle this. "Just stop it! I don't want to talk about this anymore. I can't." And just like that, Sgt Tate shuts up. He doesn't say a word, but a shake of his head tells me everything.
For the final hour of the drive home, we don't say anything of substance beyond directions to my home and to talk about and consume the lunches I made. Just holding the Granny Smith apple I brought for myself, I can't eat a thing.
I start recognizing landmarks. Sgt Tate asks me if the bowling alley and mall we passed by is where I suck cock. I tell him yes.
While I live in a region based on farming, my house is in a neighborhood. About twelve homes are on the street. There are really about five or six streets to our town.
Scattered along the main street that cuts the neighborhood in half are a couple of businesses. First is the Five and Dime where I work. It is naturally closed on Sunday. There is no reason why it is, except it is.
Then there is the Diner where the farmers come to for breakfast every morning at five. They sit around and bullshit for an hour then head out to work. It is deserted all other times, except for Bingo night when all the women in town come to get an ice cream sundae.
The third business is Bucky's Bar. Located at the end of my block and across the street, Bucky's is my dad's favorite hang out. Every day after work he would go there. On Fridays Lori, short for Loretta, or Megan would be there. Everyone knows that they are the town's prostitutes; they would be there to target the men who just got paid, especially my dad.
I have sat many times on the front porch watching the men go in and a few would leave with either of them. My dad would bring them home to fuck; being not two hundred feet from the bar is rather convenient. He would tell me to stay in my room, which isn't really a punishment.
Sgt Tate turns at Bucky's onto my street. Pulling up to my home, he parks in the driveway next to my dad's smaller pickup.
We both sit here. Sgt Tate breaks the silence first. "You ready?"
"No." We both laugh.
"You are going to have to walk in that door sooner or later."
"I know."
"Let's do it." Grabbing the apple from my hands, he leaps out of the truck. Reaching in back he grabs my bag.
I open the passenger side door, at the same time I hear, "Sarge!" Looking up, I see my dad standing in the doorway holding open the screen door. Instantly, the morning's feeling of terror returns. I cannot break it this time.
Here goes. I walk cautiously towards the house. My dad is focused on Sgt Tate. He doesn't see me.
I walk in, and my father is pouring Sgt Tate a huge glass of iced tea. The massive man dwarves the couch he sits on. My living room is so tiny and confining in comparison to the lodge.
"Dan! Glad to have you . . ."
Now my dad sees my eye.
"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?"
He looks at Sgt Tate, then at me, and then again at his Drill Instructor. With an open palm facing upwards, Sgt Tate, points at me, indicating that I should give the details.
I don't say anything.
"Dan, what happened?"
The only thing I could think of is what comes out of my mouth. "I got into a fight."
"With who?"
I don't know how to answer it. A fight, I need to come up with a fight. I then remember the brawl in the tavern. "Sgt Tate brought me to a tavern, when a brawl broke out."
My dad looks at Sgt Tate, "You brought him to a tavern?"
Sgt Tate rolls his eyes and takes a harsh bite of the apple.
"A fight broke out and my head was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Oh man does that sound believable.
"A brawl?" I nod. "Holy fuck! My boy got into his first barroom brawl!"
He starts hooting. Sgt Tate looks coldly at me. I stare back at him.
"Did you get in any good shots?"
"I really don't want to get into it."
"Nice haircut too!" I forgot that Randy shaved my head a week or so ago. "That's a future jarhead if ever I saw one." My dad turns to Sgt Tate, "You made a man out of him! I never thought it could be done, but you did." Sgt Tate takes another bite of the apple. "First you got him laid, you taught him how to hunt, and then you taught him to fight!"
"Dad, please don't make a big deal out of it."
"Of course I'm going to make a big deal out of it. My son is a MAN! Not some limp wristed faggot. I was kinda expecting you to come home hating everything up there and jumping on your computer the first chance you can, like a pussy."
"Well, . . ."
"So tell me, what was she like?"
"Who?"
"The whore you fucked."
"Now I really don't want to talk about it."
My dad reaches over to rub my head. "It's ok. I'm so proud of you son. Just knowing that you lost your virginity, to a woman, makes me so . . . proud."
He has never been so proud of me. But that son he thinks he is proud of is not me. I am just reveling in the words "I'm so proud of you son." I have wanted to hear those words all my life, and now I get to hear them for all the wrong reasons.
Sgt Tate takes another chomp of the apple. I look over at him. He just sits and eats. With every chew, his stare doesn't break.
"You didn't disappoint me. I have feared that you were queer. I don't know what I would have done, but I don't have to worry about my son disgracing this family. Just the opposite, Dan your grandpa would be so proud."
He comes over to me and hugs me. I look at him, and I start to see tears of pride well in his eyes. I reach up and hug him back. It feels wrong to do so, but this will let me get past this awkward situation.
I look at Sgt Tate. He just shakes his head no.
Then the big Marine speaks his first seven words since walking into my house in his commanding Drill Instructor tone: "STEVENS!" My dad snaps to look over at Sgt Tate. Then the remaining six words roll off his tongue as if they carry no weight. "Your son Daniel is a faggot."
Oh no! What is he saying? Please god no. Not this. Not now.
My dad pulls away, "What did you say?"
"I said your son Daniel is a faggot." The room is silent for what seems like an eternity. Sgt Tate continues, "Before you left the lodge you came to me in the gym to ask me to find out if Dan was a fag and if he wasn't then make a man out of him. Well I did both. You weren't even out of the driveway thirty seconds and he was swinging on my dick." He takes the final bite of the apple, throwing the core into the fireplace. He leans back on the couch, throwing his arm on the cushions.
Not again! He's doing the same thing that he did when he passed me over to Boris. He's treating my life like a toy. Jesus! Fuck him. Why is he doing this to me again? I can't deal with this monster.
"Dan? Is this true?"
I can't answer. My mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out.
"Sarge, but he fucked that whore with you. I heard it on the phone."
"You heard a porno. He was riding my cock like a good bitch does. His little cock was flopping all over the place."
My dad turns to me. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you a cocksucker?"
"Dad . . ." is all I can say. Sgt Tate is screwing my life again!
My dad looks at me in disgust, "Oh no. Oh Hell fucking NO! No fucking son of mine is ever going to be gay. Not while I still have blood pumping through these veins."
I can't stand the rejection, "Dad, please, I'm still the same Dan you raised." Tears come pouring down my cheeks.
"And I raised a faggot! A cocksucking faggot! How long? How long have you been sucking cock?"
I sit down on the recliner looking away from both my dad and Sgt Tate. I cannot stop crying. My life is crumbling around me and Sgt Tate is just sitting there. He passed me over to Boris to destroy me physically. Now he is passing me over to my dad to destroy me emotionally. I cannot hide fast enough.
My dad shouts, "Where is it?" I hear the buckles of my bag. Looking up, my dad is rummaging through my stuff.
"What are you looking for?"
He pulls out my laptop. "This." Shaking it with one hand, he asks, "You hook up with other cocksuckers on this?"
"Give that back to me."
He opens it up. I lunge to get it away from him. Grabbing on to it, he tries to pull it away from me. His grip on it is more secure, but the force pulling it away from me is too great. I can't hold on to it. However, he wasn't expecting me to give it up, and it flies over his shoulder and smashes against the brick of the fireplace. The screen is shattered. It falls upside down partially on the gridiron. Effectively it is ruined.
I am blamed immediately, "Now look what you did." I go to retrieve it. "It's good that it landed in there. Now you can't look up your next butt buddy."
Sgt Tate speaks again. "That won't stop him from blowing men in the bathrooms at the mall while you are bowling."
Why is he doing this? Why is he destroying my life?
My dad towers over me. "Oh fucking hell." He starts unbuckling his belt. I know what is coming next. I am going to get my ass beat, the first time in years. "No fucking son of mine will ever suck cock." The room echoes with the sound of his belt coming out of his loops. He brings his arm back, and I anticipate one hell of a beating.
His body twists to give more weight to his arm as it comes down with the force I have never seen before. About half way his arm is stopped by Sgt Tate's grip.
"NO!" is the only word Sgt Tate commands.
My dad looks at him. "Stay out of this Tate."
His grasp tightens on my dad's wrist. "I said, 'NO!'" With his free hand, Sgt Tate pulls the belt away from my dad's grip. The belt is thrown across the room.
My dad takes a step back from both of us, jerking his hand away. "Fuck you Tate." He looks at me, "And you! Faggot, get the fuck out of my house, and never come back." Walking to the door, he adds, "I'm going to get a drink and a whore. When I come back, you had better be gone."
He starts to leave. What am I going to do? Where will I go? What is going to come of me? For some reason, I guess it is out of self-preservation, I start to beg, "Dad, please don't. I don't have a place to go to."
Not even looking back, he answers, "I don't care. I don't have a son anymore."
That hurts me. He opens the door to leave. "Dad, don't go. Let's talk about this."
"I don't want to look at your faggot face anymore."
"Dad!"
Sgt Tate interjects, "Dan, let him go. He'll come back. He always does. He came back to me after I fucked the hell out of him."
My dad stops in the doorway. Slowly he turns to Sgt Tate. I don't need to ask him if it's true. His panicked face tells me everything. I look at Sgt Tate.
"Oops!" Sgt Tate chuckles. "I forgot, I promised never to tell anyone. Isn't that right Stevens? Sorry." He looks at me. "Dan, that just slipped out. I promised that I wouldn't mention it to anyone. He got me to promise it when he came back for a second fuck. So yes he will be back after he fucks that whore to convince himself that he is really straight. And no, he won't be thinking of my cock sliding into his ass as he fucks her."
What the hell? My dad and Sgt Tate screwed? Who the hell does my dad think he is to judge me?
"Dad? What the fuck?"
"That's really low Tate. Really low. That was many years ago, in the Corps. You had me against the wall."
Sgt Tate interrupts, "The first time. But the second time it was all you begging to ride the Tate pole."
"It was sick then; it makes me want to puke now."
Continuing, his casual tone, "You know what I don't get? You knew that I fuck men--know it first hand--and yet you left your only son with me for over a week to find out if he was gay. What did you expect to happen? What kind of a father would do that? What does that say about you?"
"Go to hell." My dad turns to leave and catches a glance at me. "And you're just a disgusting faggot. Be gone from this place by the time I get back."
He leaves. I watch him cross the street towards Bucky's. My life is now over. I have no place to go. I have no car. I barely have a job. What am I going to do?
"Dan" is all Sgt Tate says.
I turn to him. He stands with his chin up and his arms at his side.
He did this to me again. He has used me as his pawn for his enjoyment. His manipulations have gone too far. I don't want to be around him anymore. I want his destructive nature gone from my life. I don't know why he did this to me.
My anger builds up. I can feel tension in my neck; my blood pressure must be high, because I can feel each beat of my heart. I want to hurt him for everything he destroyed.
Raging on him, I start hitting his chest with my closed fist. He doesn't move to defend himself. My punch does nothing but impact his pec. I throw another one and then another, but each does nothing. I am completely powerless next to his unflinching body.
He stares down at me, devoid of any emotions. He just gives me that ice-cold stare. Stepping back, I scream one word, at the top of my lungs for ten or twenty seconds, "WHYYYYYYYY?"
"Daniel. I needed to do that."
"FUCK OFF OLD MAN! What the fuck? You are a fucking asshole. You are a controlling monster."
"Daniel, sit down."
"Fuck no. You don't control me. Why the hell would you do that? What possessed you? Did you get your cock hard by doing that?"
"I'm asking you to sit so that I can . . ."
"No! I just want to die here because of what you did. What reason did you have? Did you even have a reason, or was this some sort of thrill, some sort of test? Why did you feel the need to test ME AGAIN?"
He steps up and lunges towards me--easily towering over me. I think he is about to strike, but he just stands there.
"Daniel, I wasn't testing YOU." He fiercely points to the door. "I was testing HIM! And he failed. He doesn't deserve you as his son. You deserve better than this life. You shouldn't have to live in fear for what you are. When you put your arms around him, I could see you reverting back to hiding who you are. I could see the fear you had in your eyes. And I couldn't allow you to live like this."
"And now my life is better? I don't have a place to live. What the hell am I going to do?"
"I need to be able to speak here. And I need to do it uninterrupted. So shut the fuck up. At the end if you need to still tell me to--what was it?--'Fuck off old man', then I will."
I just stare at him.
"Look, that needed to be done. I did what you could not. And your dad did just what I expected him to do. So now you will move on. When I saw what he did and said to you, I saw just how hurt you were. I didn't like it. I didn't like it one bit. I don't want to see you hurt like that again." I can see his veins in his neck pulsing. "What I am about to say, I am only going to say it once. I am terrified to say it, because for the first time in my life, I have to put my heart and soul into the hands of another."
I don't know what he is about to say, but it seems very serious.
"I had to tell him, because I could not let you return your former life. I want you. I want you to be beside me from now on. I want you as my boy." He pauses. "No, I want you as my lover. I want to go to sleep with you in my arms, and wake up with you next to me. I want to use your holes whenever I feel like it. I want to spend the rest of my days on this planet knowing that you are there with me. You mean too much to me. It may be wrong for us to be together, but it is even more wrong for you not to be at my side. And certainly it's extremely wrong for you to stay here and continue to live that lie. I never want to lose you the way I thought I had to."
I am gasping and just let him keep speaking at a lightning pace.
"I will tell you that from this day forward, that I will protect you. I will not allow the Boris's or the dad's in this world to harm you ever again. You can count on me to always to be there to protect you. As a Master Sargent of The United States Marine Corps, I vow to give my life for you to honor and protect you. That is a promise that is dead serious. I have never pledged to defend anything with the same degree as I did in the Corps. You are the most wonderful man I have ever met, and I want you by my side."
Yes. I want him too.
He is now standing over me, towering. Intensity sweeps over his face. But I do not fear him.
"You are so worried about your living situation; well I have taken care of that. You will never need to rely on your father again. The other day, you asked me what your cut was."
I don't know what he is talking about. He must have sensed my confusion.
"At the lodge, you asked me what was your cut of the money I made off of Boris. I told you that I didn't consider it. Well after that, I did. That money was blood money, your blood. I don't deserve it. You do. I called my accountant after you went for your walk, and I had all of it placed it into a trust in your name. You will get the entire amount over the next five years--less the amount I spent with the Russians. I have set up an account with five hundred thousand dollars. On each birthday for the next five years, you will get the next installment. That's three million in total. I don't need to benefit from your suffering like that. You should. You should get it. I don't need that money anyways; I have plenty more. And, I am not doing this to buy you off. I am doing it because it is the right thing to do. The wheels got started when I placed the call." His voice softens. "That was two days ago. It wasn't until the drive here, that I realized that I was being a damn fool. I was an idiot for not seeing how much you mean to me. I quit resisting my feelings towards you. What your father did to you made me convinced that I need you." He repeats, "I need you."
I do not move one hundredth of an inch, and stare at him in complete disbelief.
"Now comes the part that I fear the most."
Oh no, what now?
"I want to know if you will come live with me and be my love." His breathing is more pronounced. "I offer you my protection, my love, my cock, my everything. I just don't want to be without you."
His hands are trembling ever so slightly.
"But I have to let you know that I enjoy manipulating you, testing you, controlling you. This is what I have done for decades in the Marines. It is in my DNA. I get a hard on controlling you. I bust a nut whenever I fuck your mind. That will continue. I cannot change that, and I don't want to change. But rest assured that I would not do anything that will harm you. Hurt you yes; I don't plan on changing being a sadistic bastard either. I am all about my own pleasure. You will be treated as an instrument as such. But you will be cared for. You will be loved by me."
He swallows hard.
"Now if you don't want me or if you don't want what I am offering with my manipulations and my control, I will understand. You can change your mind at anytime. I cannot touch that money. It is yours. You can leave me at any time, and your future will be a little more secured. If you want to leave now, you can take your money and leave, I will understand. I hope that you come with me and never have to touch it. And if you stay with me, you will make this grumpy old man the happiest Marine on the planet. I don't know if you will say yes, considering everything. I hope to God that you do. If you say no, you will crush me like a paper cup they give those nelly bitches in the Army. I am giving you total control here over your future and if you want me in it. I put myself in your hands."
His trembling is more pronounced. I cannot believe that he is unsure about this, about me. He's been struggling, about what to do with me, and I hadn't been realizing it.
I haven't answered him and he leans over to kiss me. It feels good to be in his arms again. His tongue invades my mouth. I pull away. Sgt Tate stands up looking disappointed.
I can see in his eyes that he knows that I am going to say something that he won't like. And he's right.
"So you promise that you won't harm me?"
He slowly answers, "Yeah."
"And why should I believe you?" He doesn't like what I am asking. "I mean, what have you done since what happened to Boris?" Looking puzzled, he raises an eyebrow out of curiosity.
A part of me knows that he isn't going to change. Hell, that was just explained, clearly. He needs to know how much he has hurt me. So I tell him.
"The following morning you tell me that you are sorry for saving my life. Yes I know it was a joke. But still, it hurt me in here. Then you think that I want to seek revenge on Boris; you get me to fuck him with you. Then when you and I connect with that kiss you pull away from me and turned stone cold. I was hurt by that. Then today, you take me home and tell my dad that I am gay--destroying my life as I know it." My list has affected him. I am surprised at how calm I am. "Why should I believe you? How can you make sure that something like Boris won't happen again? How will you make sure that I will be ok? After proving a point to my dad, my life is in pieces. How will I know that I will survive you for whatever you have next?"
His shoulders drop followed by his head, but only slightly. He looks disappointed, turning away slowly. I can see him thinking. But his stare just cuts through me. As I start to really get uncomfortable he responds.
"Daniel." His tone is different. "Listen."
I haven't heard him sound so raw. Gone is the Drill Instructor brute, as is his confidence. I know that he speaks from his core.
Calmly he begins, "Boy, logically you are right. If Joe was here, he would probably tell you to 'Run!' But the funny thing is that you are here asking me that question; you haven't run. That means that you still have some interest. That's good. Why should you believe me? You shouldn't. I need to earn your trust again. I thought that the bank account would be the beginning of reestablishing that trust. I know that I need to earn it more than simply setting up a fund. That money is all yours, you can take it and run at any time--now, next week, next year, or never, and you will be cared for. Now I asked you to be my boy knowing that there is no reason for you to stay with me other than me. That would be the reason why you would stay. And going into the future, our future, you can leave me at anytime for any reason. I know that too. In the back of my mind I know that you can bail, and I don't want that. I am going to make sure that I don't give you that reason. I don't know what the future will bring, but I will tell you this: I want you there. It's as simple as that. I want you, boy. I do."
I should run, but I can't. He is saying all the right things to me.
He leans over me with my chin in his hands as if to kiss me. "All I ask is for you to give it a try. You don't like it? You can bail at anytime. How about it boy? You want this old Jarhead as your man?"
I want him. I know for certain that he is sorry for what he did. And I know that he is trying to do the right thing by me. Having that bank account has given me the insurance that he will do right by me.
I cave in to him. My mouth opens and my emotions come pouring out.
"Absolutely. I want you Sir. I want to be at your side. I want to be your boy. I want it all."
His stern face turns exuberant, "FUCK YEAH BOY!" He jumps up and turns half way around. Picking me up he holds me in his arms and kisses me. Upon setting me down, he is smiling. I can't help but join him. He continues his smile and adds, "You do know that from this point on, that I will be in control, that you are going to be passed around to men of my choice, that I will fuck with your mind for my sadistic pleasure, that you will constantly be tested? But you do not have to worry about being harmed, that you will be protected?" He runs his finger along side of my face.
"Yes Sir."
"You will be expected to perform at all times?"
"Yes Sir."
"And you know that I am going to do things to you and with you that I want done, and I don't have to worry about trivial things like hurting your feelings?" Realizing what he said, he mumbles an add-on, " . . . well most of the time."
"Yes Sir."
"And from this point on, you will never bring up the incident with Boris? That part is over, and I mean OVER."
"Yes Sir. I don't want to relive that ever again either."
His thumb traces over my mouth.
"And you do realize that this sadistic bastard standing in front of you does love you more than anyone else?"
"Yes Sir." I grin a little.
"Good. Good. That's my boy." He grins ear to ear. It is not a devilish grin, but one of joy. "MY boy! HOORAH!"
His thumb is jabbed into my mouth, with his fingers grabbing my jaw. With force he pushes down. I take the cue to go to my knees. With the free hand, he releases his cock from his pants. I am not told what to do, nor did he seek out any permission. His nearly hard cock is shoved into my mouth. Piss fills it up.
Oh man does the piss taste good. I gulp every single drop down. With all my standing up and defending myself, I know this is where I belong. I am glad that I did it, but his piss pouring down my throat is the best feeling in the world right now.
His hand holds the back of my head firmly in place. His soft cock fills my mouth, but it doesn't remain soft for long. As it grows, his cock does not have any place to go except down my throat. I barely can get a breath in before his invader starts taking over my throat.
The blood flows into it making it more rigid, filling up my airway. I cannot breathe around it.
"Dedicate that airway to me boy."
I move my tongue around to accommodate him, but it is rather difficult. My hands move towards his thighs to give me the leverage to push him back.
"Put those hands in your lap, and keep them there. Don't bring them up again."
Instinctively, my hands go down, even though I am doing everything I can to breathe. Trying to pull my head off his cock is pointless as his hand firmly holds my head in place. My gag reflex kicks in.
With force, my head pulls off his cock. He laughs. "You are going to have to work on that breathing thing." I gasp for air. I am not thinking of what he is saying.
He slowly turns around, still holding my head in place. I know he wants me to eat ass. And boy do I want to eat; I just need to catch my breath.
He holds my head guiding it in place as he bends over. The smell is that of pure musk. Sgt Tate's been driving all day, and his ass is ripe with sweat. I start licking.
"Oh boy do I ever need this."
My tongue runs up and down his entire crack, as the meaty asscheeks grind on my face. Ass hair prevents my eyes from opening up. I continue to lick.
"Now tongue-fuck me."
I don't have to be told twice. Pulling apart his hairy cheeks, the perfect asshole awaits. My tongue firms up--pointed on the end. I feel every fold of his hole on my tongue. It pushes in further and further, until the inner lining of the ring rolls down my probing palate.
"Atta boy! You sure know how to make this man's hole feel good."
I start to withdraw it and shove it back in over and over, effectively fucking him. He starts to purr.
I come up for air. All I say is, "Thank you Sir!"
Returning to his hole, I place my mouth on his ass lips effectively creating a seal. I tease his hole by licking all around the outside of the ring.
"Suck on my hole a little."
I create a little suction. It opens up, allowing my tongue to easily slide into place once again. Sucking on his hole first really makes shoving my tongue into his ass a lot easier.
Continuing to rim him for a few minutes, he startles me with a big fart. The gas fills my mouth. It tastes nasty.
"Sorry that slipped out."
Another one is released, but it is not as large as the first one.
"That one was intentional. Damn boy! You really belong back there. I don't know why I even considered not having you with me." He purrs some more.
I feel complete now. It's not the rimming, but rather the fact that he's using me for his enjoyment. Not only that, but he is getting satisfaction from me. I am that instrument of his pleasure.
Sgt Tate bends over a little more, and I feel his hands on my wrists. He lifts them up between his legs towards his chest. I can feel his monster cock between my biceps. My arms are stretched out and pressed from below into his muscular chest above. A quick jerk forward, pulling my arms further up, makes my face go directly into his ass crack. My head strains back on my neck.
There is no way that I can move away from the asslicking. In order for me to breathe, I tip my head further back on my neck, into quite an uncomfortable position. To alleviate the strain, I have to shove my face into his crack, not that I mind.
It isn't the best position for my tongue and jaw, but I still am able to tongue his hole. And I do it for a minute or two before he releases his grip on my wrists.
They drop to my lap. Both my biceps and shoulders ache form being pulled inward and being restricted by his thighs. They feel so heavy and sore. I try to shake them off as I still continue rimming his ass.
Sgt Tate stands and turns to look down on me with his penetrating gaze.
"Strip bitch."
My body is sore from being pulled into his ass. After a little struggle with standing then stripping, my clothes lay on the floor in record speed. Sgt Tate places his hand on my upper back. I am pushed forward over the arm of the couch. After kicking my legs further apart, he starts to run his finger in my crack.
"This is going to need to be shaved daily. I don't like hair on my cunt." A reach between my legs to my cock, he feels the stubble. "This too. I want you constantly smooth." His dry finger rams into my hole. I yelp. Ignoring my outburst, he feels around inside. Pulling out he adds, "Since we'll be together for more than a week, you are going to be trained to take me however I feel like it. We need to get you a proper plug. I'm also going to have you trained on controlling the tightness of your ass ring. Here, open your mouth."
Looking back, I see his finger dangling in front of me. I open my mouth and gladly welcome it in. It has a funky taste, but not a shitty one. I must be clean.
Pulling it out, he walks behind me. I hear some metal clink sound.
"Now your dad couldn't do this; I wouldn't let him. But that doesn't mean that I can't."
A whooshing sound precedes an intense pain across my asscheeks. "Yow!" I scream out. He is whipping me. The belt being used is my Dad's.
"Listen shithead, I'm doing something enjoyable back here, that I don't need your yelping interrupting it."
Another whoosh followed by a pain in both cheeks. Two more strokes come in rapid succession.
This hurts. He told me that he wants to abuse me, to hurt me, but not harm me. Do I want to be beaten all the time? Is this something that I want?
Another couple of swats land on each cheek. I look back at him. He stands looking at my ass. One hand holds the belt, and the other holds his cock. He is naked; I don't know when he stripped, but he did.
His eye catches mine. "What?" He raises the belt up, ready to strike.
"I love you Sir."
He smiles at me. I must have caught him off guard. "I love you too pup."
The belt comes flying down and strikes my asscheeks again. It is the last time he strikes me, as he drops my dad's belt.
"Let me see that." He runs his hands over my sore ass. "Nice welts there."
His hands startle me as they come between my thighs from behind to grab on to my waist from below. With a shove upwards, my lower half of my body is lifted up. He is picking me up inverted.
"Let go of the couch." I do and my body slams into his. His rock hard cock pokes my forehead. Grabbing it, I try to suck on it. "Good boy. Which room is your dad's?"
He's going to fuck me in my dad's bed? Initially I start to protest, but what will happen? My dad can't really punish me once he has kicked me out of the house.
Before I can start sucking, I answer, "First on the left." He repositions my body so that both my legs hang over his left shoulder. With his cock too far from my mouth to do anything with it, I keep a firm hold and use it as a perche to stabilize myself.
As we walk into my dad's room, my legs bang into the top of the door jam. Before I can react, my head finds the mattress. With a shove to my waist, my body rolls onto the bed. My head hangs over the edge.
Looking up at Sgt Tate's body, his cock interrupts a clear view of his pecs and face. His piss slit glistens with pre-cum. A giant drop starts to fall towards my face. Opening up my mouth, I catch it. He laughs then bends down to kiss me.
Earlier I asked myself if his beatings are something I can get used to. His kisses and these tender moments make the pain easier to endure. Knowing that he getting pleasure from it helps too. Oh I can get used to it all.
Pulling back, he looks into my eyes. He stands up and positions his cockhead in my mouth.
"Now it is best if you stick that tongue out as far as you can and open up that throat of yours."
My tongue is fully extended. He shoves his cock into my throat, deep. I feel pubic hair on my chin and his balls on my nose.
I start to gag. He pulls out only to slam it back to the root to begin a savage fucking of my throat. I can breathe a little in between strokes.
Snot starts to form in my nose. The spit and throat juices coat his shaft. The spit starts pouring out the sides of my mouth, while some hangs form his shaft. It looks like he blew his wad all over my face, but it is just the spit and throat slime.
"Boy, whatever headspace you are in to do what you are doing, keep it up."
I am not in a headspace; I am just trying not to suffocate on my own slime.
He shoves his cock in deep and leans forward, to grab my legs. Hooking my calves under his arms, my body curls upward. In doing this, his cock nearly comes out.
Spreading my cheeks, I can feel his breath on my hole. "Aw, I can't do this."
Wait, was he going to rim me? His mouth is right there. I was rimmed before, and it was hot. But not by Sgt Tate; to have rim me seems so wrong. He must also be thinking the same thing.
He lets my body roll back on the bed. A firm grip to my shaft makes me realize that I have a cock. I had completely forgotten about it. Not only that, but I am rock hard.
"I love how you haven't once tried to jerk off. That's a good habit to continue. From this point on, you are not to touch your cock and balls without my permission. If you need to clean yourself, use a sponge. When you shave yourself you will use just the tips of your thumb and index finger to move it out of the way, like this." He holds my shaft with those two fingers as if my cock is something very unpleasant and undesirable to handle. "You got that boy?"
His cock finally falls from my mouth. "Yes Sir."
"Good, these are my toys. I don't want you touching what belongs to me. Now for your cunt, your cunt's primary reason for existing is not for you to shit out of, but to provide me with pleasure. Shitting is secondary. So it's off limits to you too. Keep it clean beforehand, or you will clean up the mess afterwards with your other hole."
Sgt Tate flops his cock on my face. It rests on my nose and chin.
"These are my prized possessions." Looking up around both sides of his cock, I see him stare off to the right as if to mentally process a thought. "No, I have to say that YOU are my prized possession."
He once again stoops and starts kissing me. As my head is dangling off the bed, our heads are inverted to each other. His tongue invades my mouth. I don't know how he can stomach it with all my slime covering my face. Without dislodging from my mouth, he spins me around so that I am completely on the bed and he can lie on top of me. He holds me for a moment.
Getting up and walks to my dad's dresser, he starts looking through his drawers. Pulling out a pair of my dad's underwear, Sgt Tate unrolls and examines them then turns them inside out with his meaty hand on the inside. That underwear covered hand wipes my face free of the spit and throat slime. A quick inversion and a rolling fold, Sgt Tate returns the pair back in the drawer.
Sgt Tate is smiling and even doing a cocky strut on the few steps back to my dad's bed. He is different. He would not have cleaned me up had this been on the first few days of my time with him. Yes he kisses me like he did on day one, but now it is more intense. I can sense that he wants to kiss me as opposed to kissing me as a part of a sexual act. Even the whipping essentially stopped when I told him I loved him. He knew I meant it, and I think he felt it too. He has changed.
Moving himself into position on the bed, he places my ankles on his shoulders. He's going to fuck me. Oh yes. I have wanted this, needed it too.
His cockhead touches my hole. I relax it the best I can.
I don't care what happens with my dad, or what happened to Boris. Right now, my focus is on him and his pleasure.
Pushing my ankles forward, he thrusts in. Both Sgt Tate and I moan in ecstasy.
"Sir?"
Sgt Tate looks down at me, almost insulted that I interrupted his pleasure.
"What boy?"
"I don't ever want you to pull out."
Realizing that I wasn't going to tell him to stop, he nods and relaxes his stern look. "I don't want to either."
Returning my ankles to his shoulders, he leans forward so that I am essentially bent in half with my knees at my chin. Throw into the mix that I have this massive man on top of me. Thrusting into my hole, Sgt Tate hits that second sphincter he told me about when I was fucking Boris. My hole clenches and I wiggle, but I cannot move too much due to his all encompassing grasp.
I can tell his eyes are rolling behind his closed eyelids. There is a complete look of ecstasy on his face. That makes everything worth it. Reaching up, my arms wrap around his neck.
"No, play with my tits." He doesn't even open his eyes or stop his thrusts.
I reach down to his hairy chest. "No, reach around on the outside of your legs." Each hand takes a nipple and begins to roll it. "Apply more pressure. Begin to dig your fingernails into it. Playing with my nipples just right doubles and triples my pleasure."
I curiously start working my thumbnails into them.
"Think of yourself as a machine to work my nips. You are to follow my instructions as I state--nothing more, nothing less."
He begins to slam down on my ass. With his full weight coming down on it, his cock jams into my hole hitting that spot in my ass sending shockwaves of painful pleasure throughout my body.
"Ease up on my left nip." My left hand relaxes a little. He pile drives into my ass supported on top by his left arm, as his right hand reaches up and smacks me across the face. "I said MY left nip."
I forgot that his left is my right. I adjust my right hand's grip.
"Now intensify the right to match MY left."
I adjust. He smiles and closes his eyes again. Now the pile-driving fuck continues. His breathing becomes erratic. He is close to cumming, with each slam intensifying. A few grunts later, he is on the edge.
Before he shouts out in orgasm, Sgt Tate sits back on his heels, with his cockhead still buried in my ass. His chest is covered in sweat. Running his hands down his stomach he collects a lot of the moisture on his hands, only to flick it of on the bed's sheets.
"That should add a real man's smell in here."
I cannot believe that we are fucking in my dad's bed. The number of times he has brought a whore here to fuck crosses my mind. Now we are adding our own notch to his headboard. It feels real good to be this high school-ish. It makes what he said to me before leaving easier to deal with.
Sgt Tate looks at me. "Whew! Boy, you are one hot fuck. That cunt is made for my cock."
"Oh fuck yeah Sir."
"How are you doin' there?"
"Oh Sir. There is no place I want to be except under you right now."
He wipes his hands on the sheets. "Atta boy. Keep those legs up."
Placing his hands firmly on the backside of my knees effectively keeps me bent in half. He rolls me backwards with my legs going further over my head, causing my ass to go higher.
Sgt Tate casually releases a huge gob of spit on my hole. It takes a second or two for the large wad to drop down. There is one strand of spit that lingers between my ass and his mouth. It gets thinner and ultimately snaps.
Rolling me back, he repositions his cock at my hole. Still kneeling in bed, he inches forward so that his cock is deep into me. He is motionless with his hands on the backside of my knees.
He pushes me down into the mattress so that his cock nearly falls out, only to release me. The springs in the mattress thrusts my body up, impaling me upwards onto his cock.
I can't control my response, "Urgh!"
He pushes me down again and releases. I am impaled again. Sgt Tate repeats this over and over. Every time I get impaled which is about one or two thrusts a second, a grunt emits from my throat, without any conscious act on my part.
My head bobs all over the place. It makes it difficult to see his naked body in motion. I can make out his thick biceps working very fast, causing his pecs to bounce.
I can hear his breath starting to pick up again, signaling that he is going to cum. And just like last time, he pulls away to catch his breath.
I moan "Oh Sir!" The pleasure he has given me is so intense that I can't stop grinning.
"Yeah boy? You haven't been fucked like that hunh?"
"No Sir."
Chuckling he adds, "Good. You ready to cum with me?"
I am going to cum? I haven't thought about cumming since fucking Boris, and I couldn't do it then. Will my balls be able to cum? I don't know if they have recovered yet.
"What's wrong?" He must have sensed something.
"My balls. I don't know if they are ready to cum. They may still hurt."
He sinks back on his heels. "Well it's up to you. It won't phase me if you don't cum."
Fuck it! "Let's do it Sir! If they hurt, they hurt. . . . You will probably love that too."
With a nod and a smile, he adds, "That would be an affirmative."
"Let's do it."
He grins at me and jumps off the bed. "Bring your ass to the edge of the bed."
I get into position. My legs are incredibly sore, but he is still holding them up. My dad's mattress is too low for his cock. Being six foot five Sgt Tate needs to stand with his legs spread so that his cock lines up with my hole.
My legs rest on his shoulders again. His cock drives right in. It feels so good in this position.
"Hands on my tits." Instinctively, my fingers go up to his nipples. I am really surprised that he hasn't focused on them before today, but I shouldn't question it.
Sgt Tate starts pumping his cock. I smile at him; he responds with the same.
He spits into his hand only to place it on my cock. HOLY FUCK! My cock feels instantly alive. My mouth starts quivering, and I get chills.
"Hold on there. I need to get myself back up to speed before we cum." He releases my cock. I would have shot within the minute if he hadn't.
He immediately starts pound fucking me again. Looking up at him, he is one sexy fucker. Sweat covers his entire body. I want to lick it off so bad.
"Squeeze harder on my tits." I do. "It's not going to be much longer, boy!"
His hand returns to my cock, so does the intense level of ecstasy. It won't be long for me either.
I can feel the cum about ready to erupt, but he doesn't look like he's ready. I don't want to shoot without him.
I need to find out a way to please him to really get him off. I clamp down on my abused hole.
"Oh yeah boy."
He enjoys abusing me. What else can I do? I have an idea, "Sir, smack me across the face."
He grins, and smacks me good.
"Thank you Sir, may I have another?"
"Oh boy!"
This time he backhands me. I cannot feel any pain from them. All of my senses are focused on the fuck. In fact, those two smacks make my body shiver adding to the pleasure at my hole.
"I'm getting close. Are you boy?"
"Fuck yeah Sir." His jacking has picked up speed, as has his fucking. With his free hand, he alternately twists my nipples. The pain and the pleasure are coming in waves all over me.
He shouts, "Stay with me boy!"
I am now at the point of no return; fighting to hold back cumming with him is getting more difficult. He is grunting louder and louder.
"I'm going to cum Sir! I'm going to cum!"
My body tightens up. He screams, "Fuck yeah! Squeeze that motherfucker!"
I clamp down on my entire body including my asshole and shoot a load of cum into his hand; at the same time he buries his cock into my hole.
My balls empty into his hand at the same time I can feel his cock pumping load after load into my clenched hole. His cum-filled hand still plays with my cockhead, which has become very sensitive.
Every feather touch to my piss slits sends my body into new spasms, one right after another. My body vibrates. I feel him shaking above me from his own intense orgasm. But still he sadistically plays with my sensitive slit. Our aftershocks feed off of one another making it feel like it won't ever end.
Panting I begin my recovery. My eyes drift closed. Sgt Tate's cock slips out of my well-used hole. I am overwhelmed by the feeling that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. My body is humming, and the tingling of hypersensitivity from before just adds to the euphoria. Surprisingly my balls feel fine, but that thought drifts away too.
"Keep those legs up a little longer there, boy."
Opening my eyes, I see Sgt Tate squatting at my ass.
"Shit out my cum. I want to see it pour out of your cunt."
Instinctively, I start pushing as if to take a shit. I fart; it is wet.
"Oh yeah! That's my bitch! Keep it up."
I keep pushing and feeling cum pour out of my hole and running down my crack. His hand is at my tailbone collecting whatever comes out. Pushing hard and another fart explodes.
Sgt Tate stands up with two upturned palms. Raising his left hand he says, "My cum." To the right he says, "Yours." Leaning over he brings his cum to my mouth, and commands, "I want this to remain in your mouth as long as you can."
"Yes Sir!"
"Move back first, and lay long ways." I reposition myself so that my head is at the head of the bed. He walks up along side of me, "Open up."
I open my mouth, and in pours the ass juice infused cum. It falls off of his hand and directly into my mouth.
"Good! Good! Now let your tongue swish that in your mouth. Remember don't fucking swallow it."
I close my mouth and he wipes the excess over my mouth and chin. Then he does something I don't expect. He pours my cum into his mouth, and wipes the excess on his own chin.
I am shocked at him. Sgt Tate starts to lower himself on top of me.
Our mouths connect. His cum covered tongue invades mine. I spread my legs so he can lie directly on top of me. The sweat that covered his body is now rather cool as his skin touches mine.
I can feel the two loads moving between mouths as our tongues move around in each other's mouths. I find it difficult to breathe. During my trying to cope, some cum gets swallowed.
My hands run through the cool sweat on Tate's massive hairy back, and he just holds me in his arms. I can feel his cock getting softer between my legs. It doesn't lose any of its stickiness.
We don't stop kissing even though I swallow some more cum, some dribbles out the side of my mouth, and he even swallows a portion.
I know that it is a mess on our faces, but this kiss keeps lingering.
He finally pulls away, "I love you, Dan." That is the best thing he could say. He rubs his stubble chin on my cheek.
I consume the last sizeable swallow. "I love you too Sir." There is still some cum that remains in my cheeks and under my tongue.
Sgt Tate squeezes me tight as he kisses me some more. His tongue does not want to stop sharing the last of our cum. My hands run up his back, feeling every strand of back hair. I cannot believe that I have this brute of a man being so affectionate. Half of me wants to say that this is in reaction to my answer to his offer, but the other half says that anything could happen to change it so enjoy it while it is happening.
"Well ain't this a pretty sight." Neither of us makes this comment. We look over at the door to see my father in the doorway with a gun pointed at me. "In MY bed?"
Instantly the feeling of dread from this morning comes pouring over me once again. That feeling has been following me around all day. Now terror is added to the mix. Why did I have to think about something happening to change what was going on with Tate? This is not good.
"Now Stevens, put that away." Instinctively, Sgt Tate races to stand up in order to confront my father.
My dad points the gun at him. "You dare to fuck my son in my house, and in MY BED? What the fuck are you doing in here?"
"Put the gun down."
My dad sways slightly. I would easily say that he has been drinking. He's not drunk, but just tipsy. And, he hasn't been with the whore as they show up later in the night.
"Why Tate? How could you fuck this faggot son of mine?"
"Hand me the gun."
"No. I'm going to deal with this here and now." He points the gun at me. "I will not have a faggot son, not now not ever."
Sgt Tate moves between my dad and me. All I can see is his massive backside.
"You are going to have to shoot me first."
"What?"
"I vowed that I would give my life to protect him."
"OUT OF THE WAY TATE!"
I don't like the way this is sounding.
"Stevens you are not going to do anything."
"TATE! THE FAGGOT IS BETTER OFF DEAD."
"You are going to have to go through me first." Now I recall his promise to give his life for me. Oh no. It can't end like this.
"IF I MUST."
The gun discharges. The sound echoes in the room, causing me to slam my eyes shut. He swore he would give his life to protect me. It doesn't have to be now. Please God it doesn't have to be now.
I don't hear anything. An eternity passes and nothing happens. No second shot. No Tate falling to the ground. My dad doesn't say anything.
The sound of glass breaking behind me causes me to open my eyes to see. What lasted an eternity to me, only a microsecond elapses after the shot. Sgt Tate's torso is in the process of twisting as his arm moves upward to grab the barrel of the gun.
I have seen Sgt Tate move in a fight against the bikers in the tavern and then against Boris, and I am truly amazed by how fast and precise he is. My inebriated dad is no match for him.
Sgt Tate yanks the gun out of my dad's hand only to jab him in the gut with the free arm. As my dad bends over to recover, Sgt Tate quickly dismantles the gun, throwing it in different parts of the room. Looking behind me, there is a hole in the mirror and three giant cracks coming from it.
"Pathetic! I thought you would have put up more of a fight."
Gasping, my dad asks, "Why are you lowering yourself for such a cocksucking faggot?"
"Watch your mouth there about Daniel. He's my lover."
Oh my God! He referred to me as his lover--to my dad!
"Tate, are you a . . ."
"Go on! I dare ya, call me a faggot!"
My dad straightens up, but he still needs some stabilization. Leaning with his back on the wall with blood pouring down from his nose he tries to regain his breath. He still manages to snarl, "You two deserve each other. Both of you two are faggots. FAGGOTS I say!"
"So be it." Sgt Tate slugs him. With one punch my dad starts to fall to the ground. Two more punches land before he goes into the fetal position gasping for air. "And yes, I AM GAY. I was gay when I fucked you in the squadbay; I am still gay." He admits it to my dad of all people. Tard was right. "And you were queer when you took me up your shitter. You may not like it now, but you loved it then."
Still naked, Sgt Tate towers over my father's limp body. I can only see Tate's backside. The lats in his back are fanned out so wide he looks like a cobra ready to strike. I can see him breathing. Through Tate's spread legs, I can see my dad whimpering on the floor.
As I look at my father, I kinda feel sorry for him. He murmurs, "Fucking queers, you've ruined my bed. You've ruined this house. Get the fuck out of my house! You are both dead to me."
As the word 'house' is being said, a stream of piss lands on my dad's face. After aiming for his eyes, Sgt Tate re-aims to coat the rest of his body, really soaking his clothes in urine.
I see Sgt Tate's arm jerk, so he must be shaking the last drops off of his cock. Not much piss flows from his dick as I drained most of it earlier, but enough of it has landed on my dad to humiliate the man.
"Now there is something we can agree on. Today is the last day for Daniel. Daniel Stevens is dead." Using his thumb to point at his chest, Sgt Tate adds, "From this day forward, he is going to be using the name that I GAVE HIM." He looks at me. "C'mon Lennox, let's get the fuck out of this cesspool."
I smile. I smile one of my biggest grins. For the first time in my life, I am proud of my name. Hearing Sgt Tate call me that gives me so much honor. I am now even more connected to him.
I stand. My legs are extremely sore from being in the air from all the fucking. But as I walk by my father, I want to do it proudly. He spits on my foot. "At last, my fag son is dead."
Sgt Tate immediately responds with, "Long live Lennox Ste-- . . . No, Long live Lennox Tate!"
With a newfound strength I face my dad for the last time. I realize what the last words I want my dad to hear from me are. "Dad, you know what the sad part of all this is? When Sgt Tate and I were fucking, that was probably the first time in a decade that two people had sex on your bed for love, and not money. You can't see the difference anymore, can you? That's the sad part. I pity you."
"Don't come back to this house ever. I don't want it lowered than it already is."
I am about to leave, but I stop and turn to him. I stand before him completely naked, yet I do not hide myself. Stooping down to his level we make eye contact. His face glistens from Sgt Tate's piss.
I point to my scab on my chest. "You see this? You know what this is? The same man who gave me my black eye did this to my chest. He did this because of you. Boris."
My dad quickly looks at Sgt Tate in the doorway, then back at me.
"That's right dad, Boris. Boris found out that I am your son. He punched me in the eye and did some downright cruel things to me including shoving a red-hot poker here. He was going to kill me for what you did to Katy, not for me being gay, but rather for being your son. So you see? Being related to you is now the lowest of lows. What does that say about you?"
"Dan . . . "
Oh no, I hope he is not going to apologize. It's gone way beyond that.
"Shut up! I'm done with this. I'm done with dealing with your fuck ups. I'm done with dealing with you. I'm done with trying to hide that I love men. I'm done with hiding who I am. I'm going to leave with that man over there, that man that I want to spend the rest of my life with. I am never turning back. Don't worry dad, when this last piece of scab falls off, it will take with it all the horrible problems you ever inflicted on me. When it finally goes, so will any feelings I have towards you. The scar that remains will be a constant reminder that I am never to come back to the man that ultimately caused it."
I stand up.
I say the last four words to my dad and leave, "I'm done with you."
We walk into the living room. Sgt Tate pats me on the back, "You did good." He starts putting on clothes. I look around for my stuff. "You take nothing from this house. And I mean nothing."
"But what about my clothes?"
"Now what did I just say? You take nothing. Your father wants to pretend your dead? Let him. Leave it him to feel the emptiness of his life as he looks around and sees everything that was yours is still here, but you're not. He needs to learn that his stupidity has repercussions. I will provide for you from this point on. You are going to walk out of here buck-naked with your head held high. When I feel that you deserve clothing, you will have them." He then adds in a quieter tone, " . . . in a few months."
Sgt Tate puts his shorts and tank on. We leave. I am naked, and I am leaving my former home. Initially I worried what the neighbors think. Most of them feel the same about gays as my dad does.
Our next-door neighbor Mr. Young is getting out of his car. Being at dusk, he will probably ignore me. He doesn't. "What the hell Danny! Put some clothes on. I have a family."
I shout back, "You don't have to worry about me. I am never coming back here. This man, . . ." I point to Sgt Tate, " . . . is my lover. I am gay, and I am leaving this hell hole, with nothing my dad gave me. Me being gay shouldn't be a shock to your family, as your son and I have been messing around since Junior High. Have a nice life."
We get in the truck. Sgt Tate drives off.
"What was that about?"
"Oh him? He used to tell my dad that he should be worried about me being gay, that I might make one of his two boys gay. Asshole."
"So you have been messing around with one since junior high?"
"No. But he has two sons, one my age and the other a year older. They were always picking on me. Now, he is thinking about what I said and trying to figure out which one is gay, which was the whole point."
Sgt Tate laughs. "That's my boy!" He's smiling.
"So with me living with you, I should e-mail Joe and tell him that I can't make it next week."
"Like hell you will. You do that and I will pull both your eyeballs out and skull fuck you, and then leave you on the side of the road. Seriously, I am not going to pass up the opportunity to get the cunt a gangbang. Do you know those things are damned hard to arrange? No, you will tell him that we will host them, all of them next week. I'll have all the food and beer they need. My place is big enough." He looks at me. "Our place is big enough."
"And what about the baseball executive that was supposed to come by your lodge?"
"I'll give him a call." He quickly glances over at me. "Get over here."
I lean over the center console to him. It is quite uncomfortable, but his arm draped over me makes everything right.
He says, "You know, along the way back to my home we can take a side trip. The rest area is off the route home, but not too far off. We had a lot of fun there last Sunday." He pauses. "We're going there. I want to see you be the cum dump you are." I am not part of the decision, but I wouldn't have chosen anything different.
Not five minutes later he pulls over on the side of the road, gets out, and fucks me right there on the passenger's side. With my head in the foot well, I cannot see the cars driving by, but I can hear them. Some honk, but most do not. It's probably because the night is settling in.
This is a quick fuck, and we are back on the road in no time. He keeps his shirt off. His campaign cover is back on his head.
He looks over at me, "You know Lennox? Your life will never be the same."
Wow. He says almost if not the exact words my dad said on the drive to the lodge. My dad was right then; so is Sgt Tate now. My life is going to be much better. So is his. Hell, both our lives are going to be much better now.
I look over at the man driving, "I know."
This man is my lover.
It's funny. He has established that he is the one calling all the shots here. He's the one who is the master controller--the one who moves the chess pieces where he wants them, but I like the fact that I have the ultimate control of the situation. I can leave him at any time. Right now, there is no other place on the planet I want to be. Everything seems right. Well, almost everything.
"Can I ask something of you?"
Raising an eyebrow and looking down at me, "What is it?"
I lift my head up and ask, "Sir, can I stop eating your shit?"
He chuckles, "So you don't like eating my turds, hunh? After all the hard work I go through to make it for you." Pulling me back to him, he kisses my forehead. "Sure boy, you don't have to eat my shit anymore." Thank God! I'm glad I asked. He adds, " . . . except for special occasions." He emphasizes "special occasion." Fuck! He erupts in laughter; I do not see the humor in it. "You know, we are going to have to work on the name thing. We both can't be Lennox Tate. I guess you could go by Lenny."
"How about just Lennox? You seem to go by many names including Len."
He nods in agreement. "Boy, I made the right decision to take you." He leans over and kisses me on the head, "I love you." In the twelve days I have been with him, I have never seen him so happy. I know that this won't continue forever, but it is definitely something that I will remember for a long time.
I am truly happy. I look up at him, and he glances down at me smiling. He gives me his intense look of dominance, for only a few seconds. He then slowly starts to smile too.
I say the only thing I can, "I love you too Sir."
He runs his hand down my back to my hole. Two fingers go in as he states, "You do realize that you put me in a very good mood. And that what lies ahead for you is not going to be all rainbows and unicorns?" Even he senses that this time together is different. He may go back to the intensity of a sadistic Drill Instructor from The United States Marine Corps, but I know there is a part of him that has changed for the good.
"I know Sir. But right now I am enjoying everything that's happening." I then ask, "So how will my last name work?"
"We could get your name legally changed, but that is long and drawn out. We could get married--go someplace where we can."
"Shouldn't you get my father's permission to ask for my hand in marriage?" We both laugh, but Sgt Tate laughs longer and harder.
"Damn. Now that is fucked up." Contemplating the conversation and liking what he's thinking, "Yeah, we'll do that; we'll get married."
We drive down the road towards the rest area and the orgy of truckers ahead. I have my head on his chest looking up, and he has two fingers buried deep in my ass.
Looking down at me on his hairy chest, he raises one eyebrow and continues his thought, "Now that will be one hell of a . . . special occasion!"
Oh no. I can see he has been moving the small chess pieces around to verbally "get" me. I anticipate what he is going to say next, and I am not wrong.
"You hungry?"
Comments on this installment or the story as a whole? I do like hearing from people like you. E-mail me at
haverimseat4you@gmail.com
This is the end of the story, but it is not the end of 12 Days with Sgt Tate. I have put together a blog that goes into more detail on the background to the story. I will have more information about 12 Days there. The URL is:
SGTTATE.com (Easy to rememter?)
I want to thank you for your dedication to my story; it means a lot to me.
Rob Y SGTTATE.com