Date: Fri, 6 Mar 2009 20:21:31 +0000
From: green.noah@ymail.com
Subject: Soldier Student Chapter 2 0700hrs

Soldier Student

Chapter 2

0700hrs

Half an hour later, my bike wobbled and span from under me. Time bubbled, I
felt the last hope of staying vertical vanish and then I was fully off it,
crashing down onto black gravel but still travelling forwards so the soft
pads of my palms ripped against the tarmac as my chin grated along the
ground. All that had happened was a uniformed copper had deliberately put
himself in the path of my ride and so succeeded in bringing me off, but the
immediate effect inside my head was to conjure up all the times in battle
I'd put myself to the ground. As I heard my bike come to rest and felt the
grit around me stop bouncing I lay preoccupied not about the taste of blood
in my mouth but about an improvised explosive device that had nearly
finished me off in Belgrade in 1997. That's the permanent shit the army
leaves in your head. Back in the real world, I could hear the footsteps of
the police officer -- who I knew was called PC Richard Walker - hurrying
towards me. I could just imagine the self-satisfied smile on the ginger
cunt's arrogant pie-hole. He was the younger brother of a man I'd got
thrown out of the regiment for theft and it was a grudge he was never going
to let lie; he'd made it his mission to get me sweating neaters whenever he
was around.

It was so fucked up. In the days before PC Walker had found out I was the
one who'd stiffed his brother, I used to flash through town up to the Uni
in about five minutes, never giving a fuck for traffic cops, traffic
lights, traffic or anything else. But then someone in a night club had
pointed out to Walker that it was me who'd got his big bro the ultimate
army ear-pounding and from that day on he seemed to have no other police
business than to lie in wait for me ready to issue fixed penalty notices or
on the spot safety inspections. He was a sad cunt but he'd cost me nearly
£200 in fines and turned my journey to work into a stop-start marathon that
took nearly half an hour.

As I felt him drop heavily onto my back knees-first then grab for my wrists
ready to cuff them, I knew exactly what had caused him to suddenly up his
game. He'd found the nerve to move from hassling me to deliberately tipping
me off my bike because on a night out the Friday before I'd filmed him on
my mobile as he'd bitchslapped a pissed-up tart who'd tried to spit in his
face. My plan had been to download the video to my computer and email it to
his superiors so I could get the fucker suspended. Instead I'd more or less
forgotten about it and now Constable Walker had the motive to do me proper
harm.

 "You resist me, squaddie, and I'll pop your fucking arm. Understand?"

I grunted with my jaw pressed against the road surface until he grabbed me
by the scalp and hauled me to my feet. He had a mate with him -- the same
accomplice as on the night he'd been happy slapping the drunk girl - and
between them they booted me over to a squad car. Slamming my head as often
as possible against the door they rammed me into the back. Well trained in
counter interrogation techniques I knew enough to comply while I was
disempowered, otherwise there would have been carnage. Their whole little
operation in getting me off the streets and out of public view was over in
about five minutes. Walker stayed with me in the back barking orders to his
oppo who drove us to a walled-off bit of wasteland near a derelict swimming
pool. When the car skidded to a halt Walker leapt out and hauled me down so
I was back on the ground again. His mate trotted round from the driver's
side and the two of them enjoyed themselves punting their steel toe caps
into my guts and kidneys. Once they felt I'd been softened me up enough,
Walker heaved me to my feet. He held me by the scruff of the neck while his
buddy positioned a primed can of pepper spray at eye level. It was an ugly
situation; even without resisting I could easily have wound up blinded and
who was to say they weren't carrying knives with a plan to fit me up as a
random murder victim? Not that I'd have cared that much. In fact, it soon
became clear they didn't quite have the balls to stick me one in the chest
and finally get it over with.

Walker was ferreting through my pockets and checking each of them until he
found my phone; the one still holding the only evidence I had of him
physically assaulting a female member of the public. He tossed it to the
ground and crunched his boot down on top of it. Three hundred quid's worth
of Sony Ericsson pancaked in a second.

I'm not bigging myself up but if it had been a combat situation --
handcuffs or no handcuffs - I could easily have taken both of them out;
even if they'd been armed I would have got away. But I knew the fuckers had
the force of the law on their side. If I used uncompromising force to free
myself I'd be looking at jail time, no matter how arse backwards that would
be. In any case, I liked the idea they thought they could abuse and
intimidate me. This would be a test of my ability to survive being taken by
the enemy. A lousy plod-footed enemy, but an enemy nonetheless.

As Walker's buddy pushed my manacled wrists down behind me to force my
chest forward and my head up I felt myself smiling inside. There was
nothing these cunts could pull that would outdo my training, nothing they
could do that hadn't been done to me before. And the moment they finished,
unless they killed me, I'd begin planning how I'd kill them.

I could smell Walker's foul coffee breath as he put his face in mine.

"You got nothing now, tosser. It's just you and us now. And we're gonna put
Sergeant Jamie Stacks back in his place once and for all, you big streak of
shit." He was spitting in my face the dirty boy, but his speechifying made
clear murdering me was so far off their agenda I'd been nuts to credit them
with the nerve to do it.

"Do your fucking worst, Walker. Your brother's still gonna be out the army
and you'll still be iffy filth."

He heaved his arm back and drove his fist hard against my stomach. I
believe I saw him wince as his fragile bones met the thick wall of muscle
protecting my insides.

"Take him down!"

The second copper dinked my calves with his boot and I dropped to my knees
so I was at face height to Walker's uniformed crotch. He grabbed my head
and pulled it in-between his legs smashing my face tight against the
unimpressive package he passed off as his genitals.

"You're a fucking queer, aren't you Stacks? My brother knew all about you
and Kevin Pennington. That's why you turned him in isn't it?"

He gripped me hard around the throat, squeezing my windpipe and forcing my
Adam's apple painfully upwards, just the way he'd been taught at his queer
Hendon training college I guessed.

"You smell my fucking prick, boy? You love the stink of it don't you?"

I could smell nothing except the psycho's supermarket deodorant and the
manmade material of his police strides. But apparently he'd chosen sexual
humiliation as his area of expertise. Unluckily for him, I'd been to Iraq;
I'd seen "enhanced" interrogation at Abu Ghraib.

Just as I was starting to feel the first woozy signs of oxygen denial
Walker released my throat and pushed my head back from his balls. I glanced
up at him and he spat directly in my face then whipped his hand back to
land it with force, flat-palmed against my stubble. Then he did it
again. And then again. Each time the moment the inertia of the blow stopped
I put my face back exactly where it had been, ready for the next swipe. I
was going to show him short of killing me there was no way he was going to
affect my confidence with violence. So -- as predicted by British Army
counter-interrogation theory -- he quickly grew tired and gave up. 

"You fucked up Jack's career just because he knew you and Pennington were
knobbing each other. Admit it. Didn't you? Didn't you?"

Since physical power hadn't worked he was reduced to giving me his angriest
police officer scowls. Although I was wondering what the fuck had conjured
the delusion there was anything gay going on between my best army mate Kev
and me, I let a little smile play around the corner of my mouth.

"He's fucking proud of it, Nick." Walker said to his mate and I felt Nick's
hands on my shoulders, holding me steady in case Walker wanted to land
another few fairy slaps to my mush.

"Nah, I got a better way to deal with this piece of squaddie shit than
giving it a hiding. We're gonna fix it so he never pipes up again. Get him
on his feet."

I was heaved up by pressure on the bracelets round my wrists. Only slightly
curious what fate the dull fucker had dreamed up, I felt no surprise when
he bowed forward slightly to take a pinch of my trackpants in each hand and
then yank them down to my knees.

Underneath I had on old Adidas boxers but it didn't bother me at all to be
stripped to my underwear. He could get me naked and haul me through the
city on my knees, even a battalion of Walkers was never going to get me
embarrassed or afraid.  I was forced to take his gelled up ginger scalp in
my face as he leaned forward to fiddle with the little buttons running down
the pouch of my pants. Once again I thought about how easy it would be to
escape and kill both these retards if only they hadn't had the status of
police.

There it was, he'd reached his goal: my boxers were open and he had easy
access to my dick. He took a little rest to give me an especially ugly
smile of triumph then reached into his jacket pocket to produce a pair of
latex gloves.

"We're gonna get evidence on you that'll finish you Stacks. No threats or
blackmail, none of that shit. This afternoon the cunts at your University
are gonna be looking at sexually compromising photos of you. By tomorrow
the army will know as well. You're gonna be begging homeless by the summer,
Stacks. And you'd better not be No Fixed Abode on my patch, I'm fucking
telling you."

He slid his gloved hand into the open basket of my groin, found my limp but
heavy penis and pulled it out into the fresh air. I felt my big hairy nuts
following their leader out the door. Was he worried how much more cock I
had than he had? Since he didn't bother suggesting I wasn't hung, I guessed
he'd noted yet another way in which I was more of a man than he could ever
be. His buddy Nick stepped away from me and passed a compact digital camera
to Walker. Taking photos of my soft-on was apparently a job PC Wanker had
reserved for himself ahead of time and he took a good fifty shots of me
standing handcuffed with my trousers down and my bollocks on display while
his partner in crime stood by me apparently showing off the master sex
criminal their combined genius had brought down.

"What does this prove, Walker? Apart from that you're a big fan of my
tackle?" I asked him.

"As of now you're done for indecent exposure and sundry other matters under
the Sexual Offences Act 2003. You're going to flee the scene so that will
be resisting arrest which means every police mate of mine is going to be
after you. I'll contact your employers and that'll be your job down the
crapper; university and army of course, sunbeam. But you'll need all that
extra time for fighting your case. Hope you enjoy JobCentre Plus as much as
my brother did."

I laughed in his face. "You think I give a flying fuck about any of that
Walker? I feel sorry for you mate. You need to cheer up a bit."

"Hold him Nick."

I thought he was advancing towards me to try laying on a bit more pain but
I should have known better. Corrupt as he was, he was still a British bobby
and options like killing me just didn't enter his head, no matter how much
provocation. What he did, the sick fuck, was gob onto his glove to get his
grip nice and slippy then lift up my dick and begin to pump it. I goaded
him to the point where I was sure he'd crack and do something properly mad
but instead of punishing me for that he'd decided to up his game by getting
me hard for his camera.

As he stroked his slidy grip up and down my pole he teased me about the
horrors his lame little brain had dreamed up.

"I'm going to give evidence you were showing yourself off to kiddies,
Stacks. When you get to jail your cell mates are going to slaughter you. I
guess even your dead boyfriend Kevin Pennington wouldn't forgive you for
pedo crime. Come on, shit-stab, can't you get it up?"

His free hand reached behind me and under my cuffed wrists to press between
my butt cheeks and start massaging where he guessed my anus was. How the
fuck would a straight guy figure out another man's asshole was an erogenous
zone? Nick pressed closer to see the effect Walker was having on me and lo
and behold my dick started to stiffen. They were so breathy and interested
in watching my cock grow I began to wonder if their real motive for all
this twaddle was to get their rocks off over me.

I can't deny having two young uniformed police officers packing round to
try and see my prick go hard -- with one of them doing his best to caress
my cock into erection -- was not completely unpleasant. The frosty air and
the sting of the slaps Walker inflicted had woken me up nicely and now here
I was after a train ride rammed with suppressed sexuality getting my
truncheon waxed by a constable. Maybe I had the mental discipline to keep
my dick down but if I did, I didn't choose to exercise it and inside a
minute or two my nuts were pulled up tight under a prick that was ramrod
stiff.

Walker was proud of his handiwork, inviting his buddy to take a good look
at what he'd achieved. I reckoned Walker probably wasn't queer but as Nick
inspected my glistening weapon he looked very fucking close to getting his
hand down the front of his uniform to start giving himself a good old
rub. His eyes dogged up from my stiff one to my face and I tipped him a
little wink; bless the little cock sucker if he didn't look kind of bashful
and pleased.

Now my foreskin was eased back from around my glossy bellend Walker closed
in with his camera for what the dense twat took as conclusive evidence of
all the crimes he planned to fit me up for. I knew full well nothing these
schoolboy coppers did was proof of anything. Even if they could pool the
brain cells necessary to convince anyone to prosecute on the basis of their
bullshit story I knew the trail of harassment Walker had put round me and
my bike for the last few months, my link to his brother's discharge, even
the CCTV of the pub where he'd hit the girl would all be on my side and
that was without having to rely on the complete absence of credibility in
his photos. I'd pieced all of that together during the gaps in the action
in what they probably thought of as their kill zone. Jesus, what a couple
of tits.

But although I was certain Walker's pantomime would work out to be an epic
fail, I kind of wished he had a chance to succeed in doing the things he
threatened. A large and growing part of me was withdrawing from the
depression after Kev's death to see the life I was leading was as dead as
my mate. I'd been alert and interested during my adventure on the train,
even Walker and his buddy's stunt was amusement of a kind. Soon, though, it
would be over and I'd have to bash my way through another pointless day of
idle students and their petty, whinging, thick-as-pigshit teachers. Maybe
to civilians it seems shocking but while Walker snapped away at my lunchbox
I wondered if deep down what I was feeling was disappointment that they
weren't going to kill me.    As they had pre-warned me they didn't even
have the confidence to arrest me and take me in there and then. The
conclusion of the pantomime was an even bigger fucking embarrassment than
the main event. Walker stashed his camera and took his gloves off while
Nick kept his pepper spray on me until they could arm themselves with their
extendable batons. It wasn't until they both had those out that Nick
flicked off my cuffs and sprang away from me like I was a freshly released
tiger. I tucked my bollocks away, hoiked up my leggings and stood to watch
them back off towards their squad car. They edged out in riot squad mode,
batons raised. What the fuck? Jesus! If it wasn't for the fact I was pissed
off they'd probably got my bike stolen from me I would have laughed. They
were so hopeless at playing bad boys.

Walker's mate even noticed my backpack was still in the back of the car and
chucked it over to me. Monkeys! I more or less ignored a final comment
Walker yelled, although it came to mean much more later on. What he said
was,

"Diaries Stacks. My brother's got Penno's diaries you gay boy."

They climbed in their vehicle and screeched away to plot more dastardly
deeds while I hoisted on my pack, shrugged my shoulders, lit a smoke and
ambled back to where they'd picked me up. And I was chuffed to find -- what
do you know -- the luck I'd had on the train was holding: some waz had
picked my bike up from the street and propped it against a shop window. I
hopped on and gave it rice towards uni, still laughing kitbags about the
moppets who had just tried to spook me with their piss-poor plot.    My
good mood lasted as far as the entrance to the campus. Yes, they were
clowns but their clowning had made me wonder yet again how the life of
action I used to lead had got bogged down in attending meetings, marking
essays and seminars explaining obvious things to people who weren't
listening anyway. If I carried on living the way I was I knew despite no
longer suffering the depression of Kev's death I'd soon be suffering the
terminal decline of a life that didn't satisfy me. It was when I rode past
the halls of residence that I was chuffed to feel my mind relocating my
mission for the day, the plan to get myself some sex with civilian
males. And guess who gave me my reminder... none other than Rob Slater
himself. Despite it still being early he was coming out of his
accommodation kitted up for a run out on the field and wearing almost
exactly the clothes he'd had on in the dream where I'd knocked him out and
tried to rape him: narrow fitting Nike running bottoms and a Uni hoody with
those crazy expensive Predator Pulse boots on. Fuck, he thought a lot of
himself that boy.

I waved and he sort of acknowledged seeing me, but not in a remotely
friendly or respectful way. So I didn't feel even slightly guilty as he
turned to set off for the track in checking my sex fantasy version of his
ass against the real thing. If anything his backside was even more
spherically muscular than I'd dreamed. Getting dick between the cheeks of
it would be like a titwank to the power of ten, I could just imagine how
those big dimpled glutes would split ready to let my prick push towards his
little hole. And man-oh-man topping the jumped up little fucker would be
justice for all the shit he'd put me through with his formal complaints and
marking appeals. He'd had me explaining myself more times to the head of
department than any other student or any other subject. Despite my dreams
of taking him, I hated him.

I racked my bike by the gym and went in through the automatic doors
preoccupied by how great it felt to have yet another hard on, but this one
for a lad I'd be trapped in a room with for a tutorial in less than a
couple of hours.    Like factories, football terraces, prisons, army bases
(in the old days) and male teams of any kind, sports centres are full of
the threat of guys getting it on together. I'd often thought the only thing
keeping single sex environments orderly was everyone's fear of being
flagged up as a fag. Men without women around define themselves by avoiding
any idea they might fancy their mates. Well, today I wasn't buying any of
that. I was going to exploit the fact that with only cleaning staff around
any man I came across was going to be fair game for testing whether I could
interest another dude in sex.

As I de-kitted myself in the changing rooms I had a sudden thought and I
swear the thought came before the man: a foreign exchange physiotherapist
called Judd had been working mornings in the gym for the last few months
and more than one member of staff had told me he'd been in trouble for
offering paid massages. I'd kept my nose out of it so I'd never been given
the details but it was obvious they meant that along with unknotting
muscles he'd been willing to throw in some extras for a fee.

Dressed in my usual Undergear workout rig I poled up to the gym and set
about swinging into my second training session of the day. I was on the
Nautilus when the same run of luck that got me my three traps in a row on
the train brought a big-jawed, shaggy haired, olive-skinned twenty
something into the otherwise empty hall: Judd, the allegedly rent-boyish
physio had arrived.

He was a big lad, way taller than me about 6"5 at a guess and he had
shoulders as big and a chest as a wide as a Viking god. He had the kind of
physical presence that immediately begged the question of what he looked
like naked, was he all in proportion, was he as strong as he looked -- that
kind of shit. He was checking and wiping down equipment ready for the day
ahead and seemed to be more or less in his own world, an absently happy
look on his appealing face.

Determined not to back off from my plan to test my dick on other men I kept
my gaze steadily on him and eventually he noticed and looked back. Most
lads would have got pissed off over being stared at but Judd didn't. He
looked straight back at me, grinned and then stood watching as I heaved in
the pec deck. I paraded my strength by giving him a relaxed smile back
despite the strain and he came over. With each stride I could see -- and
didn't bother hiding my interest in -- a long length of cock that was
swinging about under his grey cotton shorts.

"You do that good, man. You have it down."

"Cheers mate." I rested. "I've seen you about. You're the student physio
aren't you?  He offered me a big warm paw to shake. "Judd. Yes, Israeli
exchange. Six months."

"I'm Jamie."

"Not a student I think?"

"No, I'm here temporary too. Teaching psychology. Man, my back is tight. I
wish teaching staff could book a massage, mate, I don't mind telling you."

"Hey, sure. No problem. We massage you. When you finish? Glad to do it for
a teacher. I got nothing else to do. Sure, you come to Judd when ready ok?"

He seemed like he was keen to show me the way to his clinic room
immediately and thinking I could finish my routine any time and having set
myself on a course I wasn't going to retreat from, I stood up and reached
to put my hand on Judd's thickly padded shoulder.

"Buddy, you got yourself a deal. Let's do it."    As we went from the gym
through the sports centre and upstairs to the physio's room I gave the man
mountain by my side every indication possible that if he had personal
services he could add to my massage I'd be well up for it. I told him how
much I admired his build and he told me he'd been a weight-lifter and
javelin thrower since he was 12. He flashed a huge white smile at every bit
of buttering up I offered him and whenever I glanced at him he returned the
look. He was acting like putty, as if whatever I wanted to say -- or do --
to him was perfectly acceptable.

When we got to his office he made it even clearer he understood what I
wanted because as I looked about at the massage tables, performance
monitoring equipment and other athlete-doctor junk Judd drew shut the
blinds and very deliberately locked the door.

"We get peace here, no interruptions ok boss?"

"Sure, Judd."

He made no move to approach me, standing passively by the door, his hands
by his side like a soldier standing easy. Well, I'd taken command of some
men in my time but never had control over a dude as powerful or innocently
good looking as Judd. Something about him made me feel all restrictions
were off, that I could do anything I liked.

"Why don't you take your shirt off Judd?"

"Sure, boss. You like to look at me eh?" and he pulled his hoody over his
head, dropping it on the floor.

His chest was simply massive, the golden brown skin glossy and hairless,
his nipples pert and dark on top of the most developed pectorals I'd ever
seen. Beneath that was a rigid exhibition of all the major abdominal
muscles so ripped they could have been used in an anatomy class. Judd
grinned as my eyes sucked in the unbelievable definition of his upper body.

"All natural, boss. No fucking steroids here. Want more?"

I nodded and he dropped his shorts. His legs were nothing like the tree
trunks weightlifters legs are sometimes compared to, because they bulged
and tapered like nothing other than superbly constructed and worked on male
legs. He flexed his enormous thighs and -- despite the girth of them - the
air space between his legs that on a normal man closes up not far above the
knee stretched as far as the white cotton briefs that barely contained his
hugely bulging but clearly flaccid cock.  Judd slotted his thumbs into the
waistband of his panties and smiled at me.

"All the way boss? You see it all?"

"Yer."

Down dropped the white cotton scrap that had somehow contained his privates
and there was Judd -- naked as the day he was born but as unlike a baby as
anything can be. He was a tower of a man, a fully formed, perfectly
sculpted undressed giant and he was right in front of me and had made it
plain he was happy to be used any way I liked.    "How much Judd?"  "I
massage you, me naked, nothing. I use on you hand, £10. For get dick hard
£50. For mouth £100. For fuck £250. Nothing I won't do for you, boss."

For a couple of hundred quid I could buy a gym-built superman, I could
settle the debate about whether I had the ability to fuck other guys here
and now.

Judd stood there grinning and available, his big cut dick at rest but ready
for whatever I liked. Resolved to throw myself into it I crossed the clinic
room and got really close to him, reaching up to put my left hand behind
his head in order to pull his mouth down to mine while with my right I took
ownership of his balls.

Judd stayed true to his offer of refusing nothing, opening his mouth so my
tongue could get busy on its first ever gay kiss and letting me take the
full heft of his hot nuts in my palm. I squeezed his plumbs while with my
lips were on his. There was only a moment of two in which I felt weird
about doing it with a dude; as soon as the thought I was going to get a
fuck connected with my cock I didn't care about anything: Judd was a
beautiful thing and I was going to mount him come what may. Seeing a
respectable guy like Darren getting his nut off at the station had given me
permission to do what I would never have done before. If Darren could spill
a load sucking a cock and still remain himself, still be a strong,
worthwhile man then so could I. I released Judd from my lip lock, took my
hand away from his gonads and stood apart to take off my clothes.

"I'll take the £250, ok? But I gotta rush because I've got a tutorial at
ten."

Judd crossed to a wall cabinet as I stripped. Since he had his back to me I
took a good hungry look at the pair of tanned peaches he had for an
ass. Man, I was going to plough that. Fuck! He came back with lube and a
condom, still looking happy and relaxed.

"You have a girlfriend mate?"

"Sure, many girlfriends."

"It doesn't bother you getting fucked?"

"No. Is good. No problem. Good money. How you want? Doggy? On back? What?"
  I was naked now and whereas Judd's cock was still swinging around soft
mine was like a rocket ready for action, as hard as it could ever be, just
perfect for punishing his hole. I'd thought since I was more than ready
we'd get straight on with it but apparently I'd picked the kind of
prostitute that really cared about his job and before I knew it Judd was
kneeling down in front of me and for the second time in a few hours I had a
good looking lad with his mouth around my knob. He sucked with the kind of
ability only a professional has, his big full lips drawing up and down my
shaft as if he loved met. I put my hands in his soft curly brown hair and
pulled his head down hard onto my cock so I could feel his throat closing
around me.

Jesus, it was nice and I could easily have shot my bolt just doing
that. But Judd was giving me head because he was taking responsibility to
sheath my dick himself. I hardly noticed him doing it, but by the time he
stood up again my cock was wrapped in Durex and I knew any moment I'd have
it deep inside him.

"I'll do you standing up, yeah? Just turn round and bend over, like?"

"Sure boss."

Rather than using the massage table in the middle of the room he went over
to his desk and lifted a knee up onto it so his bubble ass was presented to
me, put on show. As he adjusted his position I watched the smooth slabs of
tanned muscle covering his back straightening out then my eyes dropped to
where the two spheres of his gluteus maximus had split to open up the slot
he was offering, the cunt my cock was going to ram.

To have such a big, strong, sculpted guy displaying himself that way was an
awesome prospect. He'd spent years perfecting his body and now the whole
thing was available for my use, all that working out ending up in sexual
submission. I rubbed my condomed cock as I watched him reaching under
himself to insert clear lubricating jelly up his ass. When he was ready he
handed the tube to me and I squirted a dollop on my dick.

"You all set, mate?"

"Sure, sure. You do me now."    Before the sun had come up I'd watched a
film of guys fucking for the first time and here I was about to try it out
myself. At ease with Judd, I squatted down to take a good look at his
hole. He pushed it back at me, the little crinkled lips of his slot not
unlike a baby version of a woman's gash. The lube glistened around his
hairless opening as I imagined how my prick would feel pushing into him. I
stood back up and pushed hard down on my cock so it was level with the
target I'd just inspected. Once again Judd nudged his ass backwards as if
he just couldn't wait to let my intruder batter down his door. I pressed
the sheathed head of my penis against him, feeling it sliding around as
Judd and I cooperated silently to find just the right angle for him to get
penetrated. He grunted as the blunt tip speared against him and then he
moved back decisively exactly as I pressed home and -- man oh man -- I had
my knob inside another guy. It was like the tightest, warmest pussy I'd
ever experienced and I felt it resist me, trying to deny my dick any
further entry. Well, I wasn't having that. Judd gestured with his hand to
try stop me pushing on but I hadn't agreed to pay £200 in order to take it
easy on him; I pushed down on his shoulder so his backside was forced even
further back and I thrust my hips to press my weapon deep inside his
chute. He dropped his head and gasped in pain while I felt the hot squeeze
of his body all around my shaft, hardest at the root where his ringpiece
was contracting tight around me.

I leaned on top of him to get every inch inside, my chest against his back
as my weight took the leg bracing him off the floor. We were so close it
was unbelievable, almost more so because I couldn't see his face, my main
connection to him was my cock. This was a brutal, animal thing, one lion
rutting another like something from the wild and more powerful because we
were both men. It was about nothing else other than getting off, the most
purely sexual thing I'd ever done.    Bent double under me Judd had stopped
complaining. As I began to draw back out of his hole he moaned deeply but
it wasn't in pain any more, it seemed like he was enjoying it. I took my
cock out up to the head then drove it in again. Being with him had been
unfamiliar but fucking him wasn't, I knew the territory thanks to every
bird I'd fucked since I was a kid. Now I could say with authority the only
difference between taking a woman up the shitter and doing it to a man was
the interesting dimension of getting a man to the point of admitting he
liked to have it done. I pumped in and out of Judd thinking not only how
right it felt to use my prick this way but about the pleasure of knowing
I'd taken such a big, fit, manly guy. It was like bedding a supermodel, I'd
got my end away with a man well out my league. And as I fucked him I
realised that now I'd opened up this box I wasn't going to drop the lid:
fucking men was going to be something I'd want to do again.

I began to hammer at him, enjoying the whimpers he was letting out,
enjoying the sight of his huge body absorbing the impact of each thrust. I
was on the brink of letting fly with my load and then -- suddenly -- I
decided I wasn't going to do it after all. I came to a dead stop with my
dick deep inside him. It could have been the moment I lost it and got my
nut off but I'd taken back control. I wasn't going to waste the hunger for
man cunt I'd been working on since the dreams I'd had, not before 9:00AM.

As I moved my hands down over the muscled smoothness of Judd's powerful
back and then began to withdraw my dick I promised myself that this orgasm
wasn't cancelled, just postponed. I was going to get more of this stuff,
and more of it today.    Whether Judd thought I'd cum or not, he didn't
shift his attitude from the one he'd always had: everything was fine with
him. When he was sure I'd finished using him he climbed off his desk and
began picking up his clothes. Ant that was it done. We were back to normal:
as we got dressed we talked about rugby injuries. It truly was as if what
we'd done was no more than have a kickabout or play a game of squash.

Both back in our everyday gear, we agreed how I'd get his money to him and
he put a big hand on my shoulder and grinned as he told me we could do the
same thing again any time I liked. We shook hands and he began
straightening things up in his room as I went back to the gym.

There was still nearly two hours before I needed to get to my office for
Slater's tutorial but the broken sleep I'd got was starting to steal a
march on me. In addition to that, I needed space to catch up with what had
happened so I bobbed back to the changing rooms. In the quiet of the locker
area I ditched my gym kit, grabbed a towel and bumbled over to what passed
for a spa at the uni, which was a permanently broken Jacuzzi pool and a
tiny but effective sauna.

As expected at 8:30 the sauna was empty but on full power so I chucked
myself down on the top pine step where the air was hottest and gonked out.

About 20 minutes later I was woken by three student lads coming in, all
talking in the standard student way, like boys who thought they owned the
planet. I heaved myself out of my snooze and glared at the naked cunts
who'd fucked up naptime. One of them snapped to attention, said, "Sir" and
appeared to be on the brink of saluting. I sighed. It was Troy Davis, my
mini me -- a lad on an army bursary with such a fucked up understanding of
being a soldier he imagined all it meant was hero-worshipping anyone with a
rank. He was dense as ditchwater and relentlessly annoying.

I gazed at him with exasperation.Not that I had paid his looks much
attention before but I noticed as he stood there all stiff and obedient
that he looked a lot like Rob Slater, the tutee I'd be seeing in an hour or
so who was his exact opposite in attitude. Whereas Slater had made it his
mission to question and undermine me, Troy Davis loved nothing better than
to kiss my ass. What was most snafu about Troy's determination to make me
his living god was that officially no one was supposed to be aware of my
military status. The aggravation of his twisted take on subordination could
end up making me a terrorist target, or at least invite unwelcome questions
about which particular regiment I was from.

All I said to him was, "Troy..." with a dagger look and -- to give him
credit -- he instantly realised what he'd done. He looked embarrassed and
stepped back warily as - tightening my towel around my waist - I got up and
pushed past the three students, heading for the changing room to get back
to some peace again.

As I checked my locker then headed for the showers I found myself going
over my memory of Troy and his mates in the buff. Normally I'd never have
given an image of lads naked even a moment's thought but I couldn't deny
that Troy, with his little patch of student chest hair and his two nicely
proportioned buddies in tow were starting to get the interest of my
tadger. I shook my head under the hot water trying to get my mind ready for
a day of work but then -- just as I was slathering shower gel into the
crack of my ass -- I heard Troy's voice.

"Jamie?"  "What? I'm showering mate. If you got an army question you gotta
put it to someone who give a shit, son. Because I don't."

"Uh, yes Sir."

I whipped round and strode across the showers to put myself toe to toe with
him.

"Look, Davis, if you compromise my security in any way again I will wash
the fucking floor with you. You cannot be a pongo and drop another percy in
it. I'll report this to whoever's paying you your scholarship because I for
one wouldn't want a chat-happy liability like yourself in the same unit."

Assuming I'd said enough to get rid of him, I shoved him hard backwards and
returned to my shower, washing off the soap.

Always monitoring myself I realised I was angry out of all proportion,
probably because - despite all the sex that had been around me since I'd
woken up - I'd yet to empty my sack. So I resolved to fix that problem
before I saw Slater. I didn't want desire fucking up my drive to keep the
little bastard in his box.

I shut off the shower and returned to the lockers. Troy had already gone
from my thoughts but apparently he wasn't done with me. Sitting on one of
the benches near where I could not avoid going, there was Troy with his
towel round his waist, head down, snivelling. He was actually
crying. Mother of God.

His two mates were with him and both looked edgy as I arrived. I got my
stuff out of my locker and chucked it down trying to think what might be
the consequences if the lad had some kind of breakdown and let out that I'd
threatened his career.

"Look. Don't fucking cry Troy. I said something I didn't mean. You're
learning. Forget it."

Troy looked up, wiped his face and came over.

"Sir. These two guys want to be army as well. I would never, never
compromise you to an outsider sir. I thought we were all mates."

The other two boys tootled up, crowding round me like I might be able to
wave my hand and make them combat ready. The unfortunate thing was, I'd
only just got finished thinking what I'd do if the three of them were fully
compliant sex dolls and now here they were, wearing nothing but little
white towels, begging me for mercy. I turned round to face them and what
Troy said next hit the classic no-looking-back sweet spot, "Please,
Sir. I'd do anything."

"Well, you've compromised me haven't you Troy? What can you do that changes
that? I can't compromise you can I? Not unless...."

"Unless what Sir?"

"What are your mates called?"

"This is Harry Unwin. That's Dom Beale."

"Ok, I'll teach you what happens in the British Army if a man needs to
learn to keep his mouth shut."

"Yes, Sir." That was all three of them in unison. My brave little soldiers
were ready for whatever bullshit I wanted to feed them.

I told them to take their towels off and without any problem or protest at
all I once again had three fit youths in their low twenties standing in
front of me with their tackle out.

The two blonds -- Harry and Dom -- both had very nicely slung tools but
Troy's was something else again, an enormous well formed cock, spectacular
for his age. It was obvious he was proud of it because his pubes were
closely trimmed. He wanted to show the fucker off.

All three of them were standing to attention, heads up and shoulders
squared. I let them stand there. As their army daddy I was totally in
charge. I gave them a good fucking inspection as I dried, sprayed on some
scent, pulled on my clothes and then combed my hair. Not one of them batted
an eye.

 "This is how it works."

I stepped up close to Troy, putting us face to face so I could feel his
breath on my lips. I dropped my hand down to his big hose and gently
circled my fingers round it, stopping at the base of his nuts so I could
lightly tickle them. I felt his scrotum start to react, the poor guy's big
balls ignoring any command he was sending them to stay asleep. I lifted my
free hand to gently ruffle his dark brown hair and I pressed my lips to his
just as I took a grip of the full bulk of his long fat penis.

He put up a show of backing off so I dropped the hand in his hair until I
had a strong arm around his shoulders and pulled him in tighter against
me. He gave in and I felt his mouth opening. The fucker was going to do it!
On the absurd pretext that this sick joke was standard army operating
procedure, he was going to submit to a gross sexual assault by another
bloke. As I coaxed a rapid thickening out of his beautiful big dick I
watched him shut his eyes and tasted his toothpaste. It took about two
minutes to get him to the point where I could release him, stand back and
have a good fucking look at my handiwork

 "Ok lads, both you two give Troy a once over."

Harry and Dom detached their eyes from where they longed to keep them, dead
ahead and followed my orders to take a new look at their buddy. Troy --
throbbing like a warning light out of embarrassment -- was standing with
his 9 or 9 inch plus hard-on as stiff as a flagstaff having just had my
tongue in his mouth.

Dom looked troubled and disgusted but Harry seemed like he was trying hard
not to crack up over how Troy turned out to be a faggot. I had a lesson
ready for both of them.

"Right Dominic, is it?"

"Dom, Sir." The cheeky cunt wanted me to get his name right.

"You want to be in the Army do you Dom?"

"Sir, yes Sir."

"Well then first off don't respond to a direct question like a fucking
yank, one sir will do. And second get your mouth down around Troy's
penis. If you can't keep that piece of gristle hard for the next ten
minutes I'm gonna make Harry here fuck you."

"I can't..."

"Oh, you're fucked now. Harry, are you man enough to give it a bash?"

"Yes, sir." And with that the youngest looking and shortest of the three of
them bowed his handsome little blond head and got his chops around Troy's
organ.  While he slurped away I worked on Mr shithead, Dom Beale.

"You're gonna fuck this up for your mates Dom, you know that don't you?"

"Please, sir..."

"Ah, fuck off. You go. These two have got bottle. You just don't. Go on,
piss off." He appeared quite down in the mouth, poor sod. All the while we
could hear Harry slathering his tongue round Troy's rigid meat.

"No, Sir, I'll do it."

"Too late. Dom. If you're going to make a difference now you gotta go
further. I require you to do more. You ready for that son?"

He swallowed. "Yes Sir."

"Ok. See Harry's fat little backside over here?"

"Sir."

"You're going to show me you got the guts to get your mouth right in there
Dom. You're going to rim him lad. And if I can't see your tongue going into
his cunt then you're going to fail your two buddies on this exercise as
well. None of you will get as far as a recruiting office I promise you."

While Harry -- busy gumming Troy's dick -- was showing all the signs of
getting a health stalk on, Dom looked like he was going to gag. But the
unfortunate git got onto the trial I'd set, moving to the rear of his
little oppo and bending down to get his face into Harry's ass.

It had been quite a morning, but this beat everything and if I hadn't seen
it myself -- if I hadn't engineered it myself -- I wouldn't have believed
it possible. Young hetero men sucking and rimming each other just because
they believed this was normal army shit.

I moved to stand over Dom as he pulled Harry's cheeks apart to get better
access to the stud's back passage. He glanced up at me uncertainly.

"Go on lad, it won't fucking bite you. Show me you're not as soft as you
look. Prove you got the balls to test yourself."

Dom put his smooth young face between his mate's smooth young buns and
began licking Harry out. I put my hand to the back of his head and pushed
it forwards roughly.

"Don't be a pansy about it. Get your fucking tongue in there."

I knew Dom had taken a decisive step in the right direction when -- despite
having Troy's massive ridged invader rammed in his trap Harry began
groaning with pleasure over the the French kiss being applied to his
ringpiece. I took a gander at what I'd done: Troy had his eyes shut and his
head back, his nicely developed chest and abs heaving as he enjoyed getting
sucked off and Harry was gobbling away happily with a family-sized hard on
poking into his guts as he had his hairy little gash sucked by poor Dom.

But, something still wasn't right. Of course! This was Troy's punishment
not Dom's. It was time to switch my team around.

"Ok, ok. Job done. Stand up lads." They slowly moved back to attention.
"So now Harry's given skull to Troy and Dom's put his tongue where the sun
don't shine. Looks like it's your turn to suffer a bit Davis. Get on your
knees."

His big flared hard on dripping with Harry's mouth juices, Troy appealed to
me, "We haven't done enough, Sir? We learned our lesson."

As enlisted material he had the misfortune to be the only one of them I
outranked and could justify beasting a bit. I stepped forward, took
possession of his tightly drawn up bollocks and gripped them hard enough to
get a little scream out of him then drew them down towards the floor. He
swiftly followed, clattering onto his knees.

 "Ok. Both of you get yourselves into his mouth"

The two blonds edged forwards towards Troy's face. Harry was hard as fuck
but Dom's uncut tool was still limp. Luckily having his little flower wet
from his buddy's mouth had set something free in Harry and he took the
initiative to reach out for Troy's wedding tackle and start stroking it
into action. It was only a moment or two before I could look Troy in the
eye while watching him opening his mouth as wide as he possibly could in
order to accommodate his two best friends' hot shiny bellends.

He was a good lad: it couldn't have been easy for him tooting on one flute
let alone two, but he put commitment into it, sliding his gaping mouth down
both boys' erect pricks. It was obscene to behold the boy, he'd let himself
get totally slutted up.

As Harry and Dom began to enjoy the feel of their pork swords stretching
Troy's lips I realised the scene needed just one final touch and so I moved
in closer to the threesome and put my hand to the backs of Dom and Harry's
heads. It took only a little pressure for them to catch on to what I
wanted. The price of having Troy suck them off was that they should share a
kiss. They pressed their mouths together, knocked noses; it wasn't Romeo
and Juliet but they'd never be able to deny they'd done it. Next time each
of them homed in on their girlfriends or knocked one out over some internet
bimbo sucking a pecker, they'd remember the morning they opened up to the
latent homo inside.

And in Harry's case the homo inside had not been hiding very hard. I
watched in fascination as a definite wave of pre-orgasm colour spread from
his sweaty young chest up his neck to fill his happy good looking face.

"You gonna cum lad?"

"Mmmmm."

I knew how to handle this. I slid my hand down his back to his rear and
quickly wedged my hand where I could still feel the slippery trail Dom's
mouth had left. I rammed my wedding finger hard right into Harry's hot wet
little hole. He chucked his head back with a yell of pleasure and suddenly
it was raining student brand semen over Dom's stomach and crotch and Troy's
face and chest. There must have been six or seven heavy, looping spurts of
jizz that flooded out of the kid.

I pulled my finger out of Harry and he stumbled against me, exhausted and
juddering from the jets he'd washed his mates with.

"Ok, you're done. Take a shower. Who's next lads?"

Dom wasn't put off by the amount of baby juice he'd been spattered with. He
pushed his spunk coated cock back into Troy's mouth and held onto his
mate's ears while he worked up the steam he needed to do some seed shooting
of his own.

"Do it in his face. Ok?"

Dripping sweat, Dom nodded. Drew his bayonet from Troy's sucking lips and
held his mate's shoulder as he gave himself the hand speed necessary to
bring things to a climax. Handsome as he was, he pulled an ugly fucking
face as his nut approached. He was grunting like a bastard, juddering away
while Troy just took it, ready to catch whatever came right in his mush.

And come it did. Finally the tension released and Troy took a second load
of salty student paste all over his upper body. Dom more or less signed his
name in spunk over Troy's body, squeezing out the last dregs against his
lips. Cream dripped out of his hair down his face, over his mouth and Troy
didn't touch it, keeping his hands by his sides until I was happy.

I dismissed Dom to the heads and gazed down at my supposed soldier
colleague looking like a bukkake bombsite.

"Ok Troy? You gonna throw up?"

"No, Sir."

"Get up, son. From now on you earned the right to call me Jamie ok? You
proved you can take orders. More than that you'll do fucking anything to be
army. You earned respect old style, mate. Well done I guess."

He wiped an arm over his face, mopping up his mates' spooge. Legally he
could have done what the coppers earlier had failed to do, which was
produce a good reason to put me inside for a very long stretch indeed. But
instead of furiously setting off to get his own back Troy grinned at me.

"Serious?"

"Sure mate, if you'll do something as against your nature as that just
because you were commanded to, I'd go into battle with you. No bother."

"It wasn't too bad, Sir... uh, Jamie."

"Well don't tell your fucking girlfriend that, son ok? Now fuck off. We'll
never talk about it again mate, right?"

"Ok. Thanks Jamie."

Leaving the changing room, I heard the three lads laughing in the shower
and wondered for a second if they'd played about with each other before.
Maybe, probably not. Younger guys just weren't as bothered by what they
should or shouldn't do as I used to be. The internet and endless parental
advisory games meant they'd seen things I never even heard of before they'd
left school. So why the fuck had I delayed getting my own share of all this
freedom? Why had I always been such a standard one woman man? Fuck knows
how it had come about but I'd been so walled off to the joys of sex it was
like I'd been living in monastery. Well I was out now and I wasn't going
back.

There was no one who was going to stop me. I was going to do what I liked.
No matter what the cost.