Date: Sun, 17 Aug 2014 20:38:54 +0200
From: Dampies Dampis <dampies1960@gmail.com>
Subject: Sheep in wolf's clothing 6

Sheep in Wolf's Clothing


5. Big Ben and Gay Boy
6. Gay Boy And Gay-for-Boy
Dampies1960 , 09 Aug 2014
Big Ben had repaired to his bunk above mine just after dawn that morning,
and I had slept the sleep of the just-fucked for the rest of the very short
time that we had left before being woken up for breakfast. When I had
placed my pert behind on my wheelchair cushion, I felt that it was a little
difficult to forget the enjoyable experience that I had shared with Ben and
his impressive appendage.
There was a great deal of good-natured ribbing in the bathrooms that
morning, with a fair amount of dick grabbing and lewd comments and
gestures, as the two Bens took their place before the mirrors to shave. One
or two of the boys whispered in my ear that they would be happy to come and
pay me a nocturnal visit if I was so inclined. Toby again proved that he
knew his way around a body by sticking his tongue in my ear and whispering:
"Ek sal jou opeet, mooi seun!" (I will eat you up, pretty boy) and nipping
me gently in the neck. Goose bumps raced down my spine and I would have
agreed on the spot, except that Big Ben Jordaan caught my eye in the mirror
and winked at me. He held my eye and I felt the bottom tumble out of my
tummy. I would never have thought of him as anything more than a protective
big brother even the day before, but here he was, a bastion of strength and
stability, a safe port in a storm, and giving me droopy lidded looks like a
love-sick schoolboy.
The guys seemed to sense that there was more going on than a casual fuck,
or maybe it was my imagination, but when we took our places at the table in
the mess hall, and Ben pulled the chair away to make room for my chair,
nobody bagged the spot opposite me, but rather left it for Ben. He also
fetched my food for me, making two trips because with his crutch he could
carry only one "varkpan" (Pig pan, as the metal mess plates were called) at
a time. There was good-natured laughter as the inimitable Wessels, always
the card, intoned, "Bennie and Bennie, up a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!" to the
universal amusement of everybody from our bungalow.
Everybody, that is, except Parvus (Parvus Excrementum, or "little shit") an
ugly, frog-like little man who hated everybody and was well-know to be a
snitch to the rank. His unfriendly, pitted face sneered at us as he minced
by and shared a knowing look with Lt. Dolf who walked close behind him. On
a side note, I was convinced that he was the queerest amongst us, and the
fact was borne out by the fact that he was also the most anti-gay and
racist in the bungalow.
My suspicions were confirmed when Lt. Dolf stopped by my side, and in a
loud voice reminded me that we had a date. I was to do his washing that
afternoon at 14h00.
"Unless, you're doing Jordaan's first, Pretorius?" (my surname). "'Cos a
little birdy told me there are wedding bells in the air." Big Ben tensed up
and I could see that he was having a struggle controlling himself. Then the
Lt. turned to Ben with a smirk on his face. "And you, Jordaan, I'm
disappointed in you... I would have thought that you of all people could do
better than this... this useless piece of queer trash. But of course," he
said, looking at another lieutenant that was standing close by, "I suppose
you have to be satisfied with what you can get, having only one leg and
all...!"
I couldn't believe my ears. Even for this asshole, that was low. Ben
blanched and the veins in his neck started to pulse. He started to rise,
but Toby, who was sitting next to him at the table, put his hand on his
shoulder and held him down.
"Yes, better not make a scene, ass-fucker!" Lt. Vosloo smirked, high fived
his stupid friend and they left to be served by one of the common troops at
the officers' mess table.
I could see that Ben was almost incoherent with rage. I put my hand on his
and he folded his around mine.
"Bennie, you have to let me teach him a lesson," he whispered at me. "I
don't care what he says about me but to call you trash is just not right! I
can't trust you with him. If this is what he can say in public, what is he
capable of in private?"
"Ben we don't have a choice. If I complain about him, you know what will
happen. They will make my life a misery. And I can't let you get involved
because then they will make an example of you too."
I could see the agony in his eyes. They were moist as he looked at me with
an unidentifiable emotion, certainly in this context, and between us, a gay
guy and an obviously straight man. How could this be? I looked him in the
eye and he couldn't hold my gaze. He looked down and blood rushed into his
formerly pale face. He looked up at me again under his almost transparently
blond lashes. My eyes bored into his with an urgent, unasked question.
He was still holding my hand. He squeezed it and then let slide off mine
and pulled it back slowly, as if to take back some of what he had
accidentally disclosed to me through his actions. Or maybe I was just
reading stuff into the behaviour and emotions of a friend who was trying to
look out for me.
"Bennie, we'll talk later. Just promise me you'll be careful when you're
with him this afternoon. I know you can look after yourself, but if he
touches you, I swear..." The conflict in his eyes was patently obvious.
Ben stood up and came around the table and pulled my wheelchair backwards.
"Tobie, will you please empty our dishes for us?" Ben asked and Tobie
nodded eagerly. Ben pushed my chair past Parvus' seat, using it to support
his weight, while holding his crutch under his arm at the table and just as
he was about to pass, Parvus, stupid little idiot that he was, winked at
Ben and puckered his ugly, thin little lips in a lewd kiss.
"Don't be naughty boys...!" he lisped. Before I could stop him Ben lunged at
him and aimed a blow at his head, stopping millimeters away from his sallow
face. Parvus ducked out of the way in panic and in the process knocked his
own and the next guy's juice flying all over the table, copping an actual
"klap" (slap) against the head by one of the victims caught in the mess. He
had no friends, that was clear as the entire mess hall, including his cruel
and witless benefactor, Lt. Vosloo, cheered and jeered. He spluttered with
rage as a deadly calm Ben Jordaan look him in the eye and said, "Don't
sleep too tight little shit. You might not wake up again."
Then he calmly pushed my wheelchair past my therapist's table and out of
the door. We had the morning and lunch before I had to be with Lt. Dolf,
and I had no idea what Ben had in mind for me until then. All I knew was
that I felt warm and safe and better than I had in at least six months,
better than even the previous night, when I had slept in Ben's arms after
having hot sex with him--because then I was fucking with a friend. But
somehow now I suspected that I was being cared for by a lover.
____________________
"Where are we going, Ben?" I asked as it became obvious that
we weren't returning to the bungalow. "We're going to get into trouble...!"
"You'll see Bennie," he murmured cryptically, and whistled a happy tune. It
seemed that the unpleasant events of just a few minutes before had already
been forgotten. We chatted about stuff that had happened to us all in the
last few days and laughed about the experience of being "inspected" because
of, and while being stoned. We agreed that with the glaring exception of
Parvus, we had a great group of guys and that this was not an unacceptable
way to recover from the traumatic experience of losing one or more limbs.
At last we apparently arrived at our destination, one of the only patches
of grass in the entire compound, a rectangle of glossy green facing the
monument of some brave soldier in front of the top brass' offices. There
were a few benches out in the sun and soldiers sometimes brought their
girls there when they visited on days like today. The difference was that
this normally happened on Sunday afternoons, and we still had the morning
to kill.
Normally we were obliged to attend a church service led by an NG
(Nederduits [Dutch] Gereformeerde [Reformed]) "Dominee" (Reverend), but we
had slipped away before we were missed (or so we hoped, otherwise we would
surely have to answer for it later) and so we had the deserted oasis in the
middle of the camp to ourselves.
I though we would sit on one of the benches, but Ben picked me up out of my
chair and placed me gently on the grass. The feeling of the succulent green
blades under my hands, the blue Highveld sky above us and the eerie quiet
of the camp while everybody prepared for church, made for a surreal
atmosphere.
"I sometimes come here to collect my thoughts." Ben said as he maneuvered
his crutch and grunted a little as he lowered the considerable mass of his
muscle to the ground next to me.
We remained quiet for a while, drinking in the peace of the respite from
the manic pace of bungalow life. We were in a church of our own under the
warm winter sky and I felt I wanted to lie back and just close my eyes.
When I moved to do this, Ben took hold of my hand and slowly shifted me so
that I lay with my head on his lap. Typical of a man, he couldn't sit
cross-legged, so he supported himself on one arm with the opposite knee up,
and his damaged foot and leg lying loosely flat. It was in the crook of
that hip that my head came to rest, and I looked upwards at the inverted
face of this beautiful man who's eyes looked down at me tenderly.
"What's going on Jordaan?" I asked, using his surname deliberately, wanting
to maintain some distance between us, in case my heart was leading me on a
wild goose chase.
He leaned over and took my hand and put it against his cheek. I could feel
the hard beard that, even at 8h00, would have been visible if it hadn't
been so light in colour. Then he shifted it to his mouth and kissed my palm.
"Bennie, what have you done to me?"
"Mmm?" I queried wordlessly.
"With your courage and your spunk you have turned me. I was a woman's man
and..."
"What Ben-man? What are you trying to say? I have turned you into...?"
"...You have turned me and now...now I'm your man."
"Big Ben, how can you be my man? You're your own man!"
"What is going to happen to me, Bennie? When this episode in my story is
over, what will I do? My heart will forever be Bennie-shaped." His voice
was gentle with inevitability of his statement.
His deep voice reverberated against my hand and his breath tickled and
warmed my fingers and palm. He kissed my palm again.
"Wat sê jy, Ben?" (What are you saying, Ben?) I had my eyes closed for a
moment while I just enjoyed the feeling of the vibrations of his voice on
my hand, and the emotions that his voice stirred in me.
I was shocked to feel drops of moisture fall on my face. I opened my eyes
to see his light blue eyes leaking tears that ran down his cheeks.
"Jy't my hart gesteel, my klein Bennie..." (You've stolen my heart, my
little Ben...)
"Jirre, Ben, hoe nou?" (God, Ben, in what way?) "Jy's dan seker nie 'n
moffie nie?" (Surely you're not queer?)
"Wat is 'n moffie?" (What's a queer?) "Isn't a man somebody who loves and
desires another somebody to complete him in a way that nobody else does? If
you reject me gay-boy, I don't know what will happen to me...!"
"Big Ben Jordaan, how could I reject you? You have proven that there is no
such thing as gay or straight. You have shown me that I am lovable to
anybody that takes the time to know me. You came from the top bunk and
found me in the bottom, and saw me in a way that I have not been
seen, ever! Even my lover, before I came into this place, thought he knew
me. He saw me as a certain type of man and so he could love me, but you,
you SAW me as a man and loved me, just as I am, Bennie Pretorius, and you
found me and made me your own. If you want me, I will be your gay-boy
forever."
Ben scooped me up in his arms and pulled me into his orbit, and kissed me.
His huge tree trunk arms encircled me and his body, his lips, spoke to me.
He shared with me the discovery of his love of me, not the woman that I
wasn't, but man that I was. He owned his union with me, not as an identity,
but as a choice, a destiny. And I felt not labeled, but recognized,
acknowledged. Not as a gender, but as a person.
He poured himself into me. He sucked myself from me. He cocooned me in his
arms and we melded; we found Oneness. I felt as if I transcended my
identity as Bennie and rediscovered it as us.
"Bennie, I feel as if I have been poised for this moment. As if my identity
has been breathlessly waiting to settle into this...THIS. I feel as if I have
not recognized myself until I saw myself through you. My whole life has
been leading up to the moment I held you in my arms. Yes, we made love, but
there was nothing ordinary about our coming together. For me it was a life
event."
"Ben, where did all this come from? You sound like a poem, like a play on a
stage... how can I know that this is for real? How do you know this is for
real?"
"Know this..." His lips descended upon mine, and he inhaled through his nose
as he paused, mouth against mouth, nose against nose, and I knew. This was
a life event. I had met my match.
Ben drew me closer. He effortlessly lifted me off the grass and  paused,
millimeters off my lips. I drowned in his light blue eyes, his face close
enough for me to be oh so present to his stubble. He sucked the life out of
me in a breath, and filled me with his life. He moaned deeply and his deep
bass voice vibrated against my chest.
There were no words for the moment that we entered. I was
honestly delirious with the Presence of our coming together. When finally
he released me and our lips parted, it felt as if a part of me was torn
away.
"Bennie Pretorius, will you be my gay boy? And in return, I will be your
gay-for-you man."
"Ben Jordaan, I will... I will."
"Kom ons gaan sê die ander." (Let's go tell the others)