Date: Mon, 7 Feb 2005 00:09:46 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The  Spoils Of War, Part 5

THE SPOILS OF WAR  by Pete Brown.  petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories in
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

Part  5

It didn't seem so bad the next day.  Sure, we were
locked in our "barracks" with guards patrolling down
the corridor on the other side of the barred wall, but
otherwise life wasn't so different from life on a
marines base.

They banged the bars to wake us all up, then we got
out of our bunks, most of us with our morning boners
(you just don't comment about that in the barracks -
every one has them but no one talks about them) and
pulled on our "uniforms" of the brief shorts and
skimpy Ts.  The guards then led us out into what must
normally be part of the car park for this huge
building, and for two hours we did hard physical
exercises, along with all the other slaves in the
place, under the "command" of one big muscular slave
who really reminded me of my drill instructor at boot
camp!  All the time there were guards with rifles
around, and I didn't doubt that we'd be shot if we
tried to escape, and so we all just stayed there and
did it.  Still, I actually enjoyed it - I like working
my body hard, and the more I sweated, the happier I
felt.

After that we went inside and showered and got fresh
clothes, munched away at our "rations", the large
biscuit things that we were given as our food, and
then went away to individual exercises.  As most of
you will know, it's difficult to really get guys to
exercise hard unless they're truly motivated, so most
exercise facilities for slaves have some form of
coercion built into the machines, and the various gyms
and exercise rooms here were no exception.   The
trainers would set the repetition rate, or the speed,
or tension, or whatever for each of us, depending on
their judgement of what we needed, and then the timer;
 then when they said "go" you then had to do it or
else you got that stimulating little shock running
through you - the light chain holding you on the
machine allowed of no escape, and so you exercised at
the rate they wanted for the time they wanted,
irrespective of what you wanted!  It wasn't all that
hard for me, actually, as I like to be pushed to my
limits when I'm exercising, but judging from the
occasional screams and curses you heard, some guys
were zapped quite often.

We were fed again in the middle of the day - I guess
we were really burning up the calories -  and allowed
to rest for an hour or so, then more exercises until
"dinner", and being locked back into our "barracks".
Most of us were so tired then that all we wanted to do
was just lie on our bunks and sleep.

This routine went on for five days, but on day six
there was a small change - we were lined up and then
stood there as, one after the other, we were
photographed as they were putting the finishing
touches to the sale catalogue, they said, and needed
to get he web site up to date.  It looked like an
ordinary photographer's studio - one of those fancy
cameras, and strong lights, but otherwise the place
was bare.  You had to stand up against a grid of lines
drawn on the wall whilst he took the pictures, so that
any prospective purchasers interested in your body
size could get a visual clue, as well as reading your
statistics.  I was told to strip, as this was always
done of the full nude body, I was told, then stood
there as they did the various shots:  full body, at
ease, front;  full body, at ease, rear;  left side;
right side; and then that "Michaelangelo" pose where
you stand with your legs spread and your arms forming
a giant "X" with them.  That was all bad enough - I
mean, supposing my mom or dad happened to tap into the
web site and see me naked like that - but then they
did the dick shots!  You had a close-up of your dick
and balls flaccid, then the photographer casually told
me, as if it was the most normal thing in the world,
to make myself go fully erect so he could photograph
my dick side ways on!

It's not that easy - especially when there's a load of
guys who you now know quite well standing there in the
room, watching.  And it was especially tough for me,
as after he'd done all that, he told me to 'skin back
so he could do it all again with my head exposed.
I've told you how, for an uncut guy, exposing the head
in public is awful, and now here I was doing it so
that the whole world could see it if they wanted to.
The "mug shots" were OK - staring straight into the
camera, and then the side, but the last one was
absolutely the worst of all - I was told to sit on a
chair, then haul my knees up towards my chest, keeping
them apart.  The photographer then came in real close,
hunching himself down, so that he could poke his
lenses in so he was almost touching my hole to take
that one.

I actually protested to him about that, risking a
prodding.  "Please, sir, don't... Please don't put
those pictures of my dick and asshole on the web, sir.
 I'd be so ashamed if my folks, or any of my old
buddies, were to see them..."

"Boy, you don't understand, do you?  You're a slave
now. A slave can feel no shame at having any part of
him exposed if that's what his owner wants.  You
should only feel happy and proud that you're
fulfilling your owner's purpose - a slave's highest
duty is to obey his owner and to make life better for
him.   It can't possibly be embarrassing or
humiliating for a slave to appear naked, or to do
anything at all with his body, if that's what his
owner required:  embarrassment and shame have no place
in a slave's life unless, that is, because the slave
knows that he is doing something that would displease
his owner!  That's the only time you should ever be
embarrassed or ashamed, boy.   Men can be ashamed,
embarrassed, and humiliated, but such things have no
part in a slave's life, except, as I said, if you're
being disobedient.  So let's hear no more of this.
Anyway, I'm done with you.... Get dressed, and get
along, as I have a lot of you to do today."

Most of the other guys were, like me, angry and
humiliated about what we'd gone through, and when I
told them what the photographer had said, it didn't
make it any better.  "This slavery thing really
sucks!", one of my new buddies said.  "Look, we have
to get out of this somehow - we're marines, for fucks
sake - proud, strong men, who can fight...."

"Yes, and we're locked up in here, half naked, with
guards with prods, whips and guns, and with slave
collars around our necks!", said another.  "I don't
think we can escape - well, at least not for now.
Surely our best bet is to go along with it all until
we're out of here and working on some farm or other -
it has to be easier to escape then, as they can't
possibly guard us all the time."

"Yes, but what if we're chained in another of those
fucking coffles, naked?  Are you going to get all the
other slaves to run off with you?  And how far do you
think you're going to get?"

"Yes, but they aren't going to do that to us.  Look,
if they were, they'd have done it that first day.
They're spending a lot of money and time to sell us
off as some sort of 'specialists', and I bet they
don't coffle specialists... For one thing, a whole
string of highly-priced slaves is probably more than
most owners can afford.  No, I bet we'll be left
mostly to ourselves, when they've given us a job...
Then we can steal a little money, hide a stash of
clothes and food, then make a break for it.  Get over
the border, rejoin the marines, and come and fight
these bastards again..."

There was a lot of general agreement to this, and, I
suppose, we all just let the prospect of breaking out
drop, as the guards came to tell us to get off to the
afternoon exercise then.  If only we'd known how
slaves are in fact controlled, even when they're
"specialists", we might have hanged our minds and
tried something whilst we were still more of a
fighting force, together.

Dylan was still with us, and most of the guys had kind
of accepted him as a "pet", being as he was so much
younger than the rest of us.  Now we'd seen  more of
the slavery system in action, we all accepted that
he'd had no choice but to jerk us off and so on when
he'd been ordered to, as those prods and whips on his
tender young body would be even worse than they were
for us, who were more used to physical pain after all
our training and battlefield experience.   I had a
problem with him, though!

I've told you that he'd taken the bunk above mine in
our "barracks", and the first night, just as I was
about to fall asleep with exhaustion after all the
hard exercise, above the noise of all the other guys
jerking off around me I heard a faint slithering
sound, and then Dylan was trying to get into my bunk
beside me - it was hardly wide enough for me, and
there was no way that I was going to let this happen.

"Get back up into your own bunk, Dylan", I whispered,
not wanting to make a disturbance that the other guys
would hear.

"Please, Steve... Let me in...."

"No!"

"Please, Steve... I'm afraid.  I don't know what's
going to happen to us, Steve... I'm worried, I can't
sleep..."

"Dylan, you're just going to have to learn to - you're
a man now, as we said."

"Steve, please... Just for a few minutes, Steve.  I'm
so worried, Steve, tell me it's going to be OK... Tell
me my new owner won't abuse me, as the slave dealer
did..."

Well, I couldn't tell him that, honestly, could I?  It
seemed highly likely to me that a young boy like him
with a lean, athletic body might quite well be
"abused" by his new owner, given the casual way most
of the men we'd seen so far seemed to treat sex with
other men.

Dylan was still trying to get in with me, and he
carried on "Please, Steve....", and he sounded so
pathetic, and I thought of what was probably going to
happen to him and suddenly felt so sorry for him.
This might be the last time he ever had a "proper"
relationship with an older guy, someone who wasn't
trying to fuck him.  I kind of relented, and stopped
trying to prevent him from crawling under my thin
blanket - and that was all it took.  I never said he
could, never invited him in, just stopped for a moment
trying to stop him!  The next moment his body was
pressed right against mine - as I said, there wasn't
any room, really, in the bunk - and then it occurred
to me that this was really all wrong. I'd stripped off
the ridiculously skimpy tight shorts before getting
into the bunk, and so, evidently, had he, as we were
both totally naked.

He snuggled his body into mine as he had done before,
and reached for my hand to pull my arm over his body
and kind of hold him.  I could feel his warm, slim but
muscular butt pressing into my crotch, and for some
reason I sprang a boner.

"Steve... Thanks... ", he whispered.  "And you want
some of the other, don't you?"

"What?"

"You know, Steve, like the last time. 'The other'.
The thing guys do when they don't want to fuck you..."
 As he said this he shuffled around, and wriggled and
squirmed, still pressed closely to me, and managed to
get my now rampantly erect dick in-between his thighs,
as he had before.

"Oh, Steve... That feels so good... Your dick is so
hot, so hard....", he whispered.  I didn't know what
to do, but I didn't seem to have much control in the
matter as his wriggling turned into a gentle pumping
action as he moved his ass in and out, massaging my
dick between his tender thighs.  My erection was now
actually hurting, and I tried to pull right out but
there was no room at all in the bunk - and then, of
course, it happened - my dick just shot it's load,
unable to stand the stimulation he had been giving it.


Dylan lay still then for a moment or two, then eased
himself off my dick and turned around to face me.  It
was his arms around me now, pulling his body close to
mine.  "Steve, did you like that?"  His mouth was
close to my ear, and he whispered it so softly.

"Dylan, that was wrong.  You're not allowed to do that
to a guy...."

"Steve, you did like it, didn't you?  So how could it
be wrong?  How can something I do that you like be
wrong, Steve?  Surely, if both guys want to do it and
like it...."

I didn't know what to say.  I didn't want to tell him
that this stuff, that he must have learned from the
dealer, was all wrong, that only fags did that stuff
with other men.  It would probably upset him and he
was having a hard enough time as it was.   He took my
silence for agreement, though, as he whispered "I'm
glad I pleased you, Steve.  I really like you, and I
want to do everything I can to please you...."

"Then get back into your own bunk..."

"No, Steve... Please don't send me away.  I've done
something to upset you, haven't I...."

I could hear his voice beginning to tremble, and just
had to say "No, Dylan, of course you haven't...."

"Oh thank you, Steve, so I can stay.  Thank you, thank
you..."

Well, I was getting worried that some of the other
guys might hear all this, so I decided to keep quiet
from then on, and wake up early, before the others, to
get Dylan back into his own bunk.  But, as such simple
plans always do, I fucked up - I was so tired from all
the exercise, that I just didn't wake up!  When the
guards banged on the bars to get us all up the next
morning, all the guys saw Dylan's naked body still
curled up,  pressed hard against mine.

As we stumbled around, dicks hard with our morning
erections, there was a lot of ribald comments.  "Hey,
Steve, why are you hard, when you've got that bum boy
there?"  And "Steve, will you lend me your little toy
boy tonight?" And "Dylan, don't waste your time with a
hairy monster like Steve... Come to my bunk tonight
and see what a real man could do for you..."  You all
know the kind of things guys say to each other, kind
of joking, but with some underlying truth in it.  I
felt so fucking embarrassed, I can tell you - I mean,
I was a marine, and they'd found me sleeping with some
sixteen year old lad:  and one of the guys even held
my blanket up to show everyone the huge cum stain, so
I couldn't deny that there had been sex.

When we were abroad some of the guys who got really
horny used to fuck some of the local boys, I knew -
there were always boys of about Dylan's age hanging
around the camp, whether we were in South America, or
the Gulf, or Thailand, or wherever.  They were always
happy to "relieve" a marine, for a few bucks, and as
we were strictly forbidden to frequent the local
brothels as the women were though to be either
diseased, or agents for the rebels, or both, a lot of
guys took up the offer just to give their dicks a bit
of a change from their own hands.  I'd always been one
of the guys who had refused, and rather looked down on
the others for using the kids like that, even though
they all enjoyed it;  and now here I was, with my new
buddies thinking those things about me!

The next night Dylan didn't even attempt to get into
his own bunk, but climbed straight in with me!  I was
going to throw him out, but another guy was passing
who saw me start to do this, and came up and grabbed
Dylan's arm.  "Come with me, young Dylan", he said, in
a tone  of voice that said to me that he was right on
the edge, ready for sex.  "Come on, I'll show you a
good time..."

I couldn't let that happen, could I?  So I told him to
fuck off, and put an arm protectively around Dylan's
naked shoulder, and pulled the blanket up over us
both.  Dylan had got the idea, though, that I liked
"the other" as he called it, and as soon as we lay
there he started manoeuvring to get my dick between
his thighs.  I suppose in a way he was right - I
"liked" it in the sense that my dick loved the special
stimulation of his warm soft flesh of his thighs
imprisoning it, with the occasional moistness of his
asshole pressing down on it, and, as you'd expect, I
shot again.

In the middle of the night I woke up, and at first it
was odd to have another body pressed against mine, but
somehow comforting.  We'd turned over at some point,
as Dylan had his body "spooned" into the back of me -
I cold feel his breath on the base of my neck as he
gently breathed in and out, and I assumed he was
asleep at first.  But then I realised why we had
awakened -  the young fucker was trying to manoeuvre
his hard dick between my thighs!  I was half sprawled
out so it wasn't that difficult, and Dylan was slowly
but surely nudging his dick up into the warmth and
moistness at the top of my legs!

At first I just lay there, hardly able to believe what
was happening.  But then I turned over quickly,
grabbed hold of his dick, and in as menacing a tone as
I could manage, given that I didn't want to wake the
other guys, snarled "What the fuck were you doing,
Dylan...?"

"Please, Steve, it wasn't anything..."

"Yes it was!  You were trying to get your dick into
me!"

"No, Steve.  Honest!  I wasn't trying to fuck you.  I
only wanted a 'bit of the other'..."

"Dylan, you're a kid!  You shouldn't be doing things
like that with guys."

"Why not, Steve?  You do it to me.  It doesn't hurt or
anything, and I like your dick up there - it makes me
feel good.  I only wanted you to feel the same way,
Steve...."

I felt ashamed, I suppose.  Sure, the kid had pulled
at my dick and "persuaded" me to do "the other", but I
ought to have known better.  I was a lot older than
him, and I ought to have realised that it wasn't
right.  Only when he'd put it to me like this, the
other way around, did I see that I might be wrong.

"No, Dylan.  You can't do it.  I don't go with young
lads like you."

"Steve, that's stupid!  So it's OK for you to use me
for 'the other', but not OK for me just to do the same
to you?  My dick needs exercise too, you know."

"Well be that as it may, you're not doing it with me."

I heard his voice faltering, and I thought he might be
about to cry.  "Steve, I thought you liked me.  I
thought you were different from the others, Steve...."

"What do you mean?"

"The dealer, his men... All they wanted to do was to
fuck me.  They didn't care about me at all, Steve.
They just took me and used me, as soon as they'd
bought me from my folks.  No one was ever kind to me.
It hurt, Steve, hurt a lot.  And they just left me
there, crying.  No one was ever nice to me, Steve, not
like you were.  And you didn't fuck me Steve, just did
'the other', which is nice....  But now I see you're
just the same, Steve.  You just want to use me, you
don't want to be real friends with me..."

"Yes I do, Dylan...."

"No you don't, Steve - you just want to shove your
dick between my legs so you can get off, and when I
just want to do the same to you, as I've got the same
problem, you know - I'm horny too - probably more
horny than you, as men are at their most potent at my
age and you're going off - you stop me.  No, Steve,
you're just the same as that dealer and the other men
- I'm just a sex toy for you.  You don't care about me
at all, Steve...."

"No, you're wrong, Dylan.  I do care about you.  What
those men did was wrong....."

"And what you did to me was wrong, too, Steve.  Guys
should have sex together, not with one using the other
just as a toy. "

I felt worse and worse now.  There was something wrong
here in the logic, but I couldn't quite see what it
was.  Of course he'd led me on, but then, I was a
mature guy, and I ought to have had the sense to
resist.  But I hadn't - and even after the first time,
I could still have stopped.  But each time my dick
slid between those young thighs, I'd enjoyed it more
and more, and hadn't really even tried to resist him.
 Dylan was almost snivelling now, and once again I
thought of the raw deal he'd been cut - I mean, sold
by your parents, then I guess raped by the dealer and
his men.  I at least had left home voluntarily, had
had a good life in the  marines, and was meant to be a
tough guy - I was supposed to look after younger and
weaker guys, and , my conscience told me, I had really
been taking advantage of him.

"Look, Dylan, I'm sorry.... I won't do 'the other'
again, right? "

"No, it's not all right, Steve.  You owe me!"

This was getting ridiculous!  Surely he didn't believe
that he should be allowed to slide his dick between my
thighs, just because he'd lured me into doing it to
him - well, the first time, at least.

"Hey, Dylan, I've let you sleep with me...."

"Steve, when two guys share a bed, they expect to have
sex.  Surely you know that?"

I felt myself blushing a bit, as if I was embarrassed.
 I didn't know that- or, rather, I'd never thought
about it.  I mean, in the marines you do sometimes
bunk with another guy  if space is short, but he's a
fellow marine, and the same age, and you're usually in
your combats.  It hadn't occurred to me, I suppose,
that allowing a much younger guy into my bed, when we
were both totally naked, might mean something to him.
How could I have been so fucking stupid?  And what was
I going to do now, as he evidently was upset, and had
entirely the wrong idea about me?  He'd have a tough
time, and with the auction approaching, it was going
to get worse, I suspected.  I tried to put my arm
around him to comfort him, pulling him close to me.

"No, Steve.  Leave me alone...  You don't want me
touching you, I know that now..."

"Dylan, you've got me wrong..."

One of his legs went over me, so that his body was
pressed along my side - I felt his dick stabbing my
ribs - then the other joined it so that he was behind
me again.  I felt his hand on my butt, then at the top
of my thighs, then he was wriggling his fingers,
trying to open a space between them.

"Hey, cut that out..."

"You said you liked me, Steve.  We were two guys
together... Come on, Steve, show me you don't just
think of me as a sex toy!  I'm not going to fuck you,
just have  a bit of 'the other'."

I lay there, my brain spinning.  I didn't want to do
it, but then, I thought, it's harmless enough.  After
all, I had been covered with his cum already.
Reluctantly, I raised one leg slightly, and heard
Dylan give a faint giggle as his fingers slipped in,
to be replaced a moment later by what could only be
his dick.

He lay there, his body pressed close to my back for a
moment, then I felt him start to slide backwards and
forwards, in and out.  I lowered my leg, thinking that
I'd somehow trap him, make him stop, but I heard his
breath sigh with pleasure.  The feel of his dick
between my thighs was like nothing else I'd ever
experienced - soft and yet hard, warm. And somehow
totally male.  I cold feel him getting more and more
excited, and his breath against my back was almost
panting, when he gave a tiny cry, and that was it.  I
could feel his hot, slimy cum trickling down the
inside of my thigh, and Dylan was now making little
chuckling noises of happiness.

His leg came over my body again, followed by the rest
of him, and he almost threw himself against me now,
putting his arm around me and pushing his face close
to mine.  "Hey, Steve, we're real buddies now.... "

"Hey, Dylan, look, it isn't like that, you know.  Two
guys can be real buddies without having sex
together..."

"Oh sure - but it's good, isn't it?  I wondered why
the dealer's guys wanted to use me, and now I know.
That was the most fantastic thing I've ever done.
Having a 'bit of the other' is much better than just
jerking off, isn't it, Steve?"

Well, I had to agree that it was, actually.  Then
Dylan went on "So will you let me fuck you properly,
Steve?  Like the dealer did to me?"

"No, Dylan!  Look, we're only here for a few more
days, and then you've got to get used to the idea that
we'll never see each other again.  They'll sell me,
and they'll sell you to someone different, and we'll
end up hundreds of miles apart.   You've got to learn,
Dylan, that only two people who really love each other
ought to fuck... And there's no time for that."

"That wasn't what the dealer said, Steve - he just
fucked me, and fucked me hard.  I cried, it was so
painful. "

"Well I guess that when two people really love each
other they're much more gentle, they take their time,
they do it properly, respecting each other...."  Oh
shit, I thought as I heard myself saying all this.  It
sounds as if I'm trying to write a sex manual for
kids!  I didn't believe all this crap, really -
firstly I didn't think guys should fuck each other,
and secondly I didn't believe you needed to love
someone before you fucked them - all those prostitutes
and 'camp followers' I'd had around the globe would
testify to that.  But I wanted to make Dylan feel
good, wanted him to be happy, for as long as he could
be, and this seemed the best way."

Dylan seemed to be calmer now, and I could feel
himself falling asleep in my arms.  The next morning,
though, I wasn't very pleased when as we got up, the
guy in the next bunk, who might have heard some of
this - no, probably did hear some of this - pointed at
the dried cum that was sticking the wiry hairs to my
skin on my thighs, and called out, so they could all
hear, "Hey, guys, Steve's Dylan's bum boy now!"

If the guards hadn't been there, I'd have punched him
out!


End Of Part 5