NOTE:  This and all preceding and subsequent chapters
are copyright 1993 by Milford Ray Slabaugh.  All rights
reserved.  Permission is hereby granted to post this story
to other BBS'es, provided it bears this language.
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                      PLANET OF DESIRE

                         Chapter 13
             "Earning a Dishonorable Discharge"

     Ivan watched from the window a while longer, seeing
Marines coming from barracks and taking up positions along
the rift's edge.  All of them were armed with constalasers,
and Ivan estimated that there were ten to fifteen men along
that rift, reading to cut down any who tried to escape, no
doubt.  And Tarzan, laughing free Tarzan, was now among
them.
     He grew angry.  Time for him to go see this Mad
Commander of theirs.
     He got up, shifted his clothes as well as he could, and
out the door and down the corridor (a concrete building?  On
this world?) to the compound outside.
     "Where do I find your Commander?" he asked the first
Marine he saw.
     "Over there, sir!" came the automatic response and a
rigid pointing finger.
     "On with your duties, soldier!" Ivan could play this
game, and would, for all it was worth.
     "Yes, sir!" and the young Marine marched away.  Ivan
watched the pert buttocks wiggle oh-so-slightly, the only
place that uniform was taut, then shook his head, and headed
for the small building, with a Unified Earth flag fluttering
over it.  The sight should have filled him with the pride it
always did, the sight of Earth's claim on an alien world,
but this time, it seemed cruel and impertinent.  Perhaps it
was the whip cracks he could hear behind him.  Earth should
have nothing to do with this.
     Inside, he stopped and returned the salute of the
private at the desk.  "Captain Ivan Paskov, Space Scouts, to
see the Commander."
     "In here!" came a prompt shout from the other room.
     "Go on in, sir." the private said.
     Ivan marched in as stiff as if back in basic training.
Scouts never marched and his body hurt from the rigor, but
he had to play a good game.
     "Sir!" he said.
     "I was just going to send for you, son.  At ease, rest,
and sit down!"
     Ivan sat down and looked for the first time at the
Marine Commander.
     He expected a wild man, much like that crazy doctor
that had saved his life.  But in the polished buttons, the
close-cropped hair, and the hard face, there was no sign of
any insanity.  He seemed to be a commander of a lonely
outpost on regular duty and in ordinary contact with the
other worlds.  Which was all part of the game, he was sure.
     He waited for the Commander to speak.  The man in front
of him bore the insignia of a full Colonel, and Ivan was
out-ranked.  In the Marines' eyes, a Scout Captain was a
simple lieutenant.
     The Colonel looked up and barked, "Full name!"
     "Ivan Tshenga Paskov."
     "Rank!"
     "Captain, Space Scouts."
     "Serial number!"
     "84B3988C."
     "Terms of service."
     On and on the questions went, until Ivan had answered
everything about his military career without ever prompting
the Colonel, ships he had served on, ships he had commanded,
battles he had fought in (but Scouts ran from battle; they
were information gatherers only, Ivan had no kills to his
credit, or his guilt), up to the time of the crash with
David some weeks before.  The Colonel asked no questions
about the time Ivan had spent in the jungle, indeed, cut him
off when he tried to volunteer the information.
     Finally, the Colonel leaned back in his chair with a
gaze that was probably meant to be friendly.  "Captain
Paskov, under Section 4143.4, Subsection A14, I am fully
transferring you to the Space Marines until such time as
contact can be established with your own corps.  You will be
given the Marine rank of Lieutenant, with all rights and
duties connected with that rank.  Do you understand,
Lieutenant?"
     "Yes, sir." Ivan tried to sound confident and eager.
     "Let me emphasize something here, Lieutenant.  I don't
care about your past on this planet.  We all acted a bit
crazy when we first landed here.  But if you so much as
touch another man in this compound, you will earn a
dishonorable discharge and be punished severely."
     "I understand." Ivan had figured that out already.
     "Good.  I need men of rank to watch over my men.  We
lost half our officers and noncoms in the crash, and all of
the Navy men died in the control cabin, but with you and
Martin with us, we will be able to restore and lift off as
soon as we can complete a few tasks."
     "Such as the rift, sir?"
     "Exactly.  The problem here has been that damnable pink
mist, as you are undoubtedly aware.  It's weakest here, near
the ocean, and that gave me the plan.  The smallest ditch
and it pours into it instead of all over good men, turning
and perverting them, so we've used native laborers to widen
and deepen that ditch until we can separate this piece of
land from the rest of the continent."
     "Begging your pardon, sir, but why not go to one of the
islands already there, rather than build one, so to speak?"
     "Because this is where our ship is, and no repairs were
possible until the rift was dug.  Besides, the islands we
scouted at first all had one of those volcanos on it,
belching out pink smoke.  Whatever is in that mist, it owns
all of this world, Lieutenant."
     "Yes, sir."
     "Fortunately, our ship was being sent to establish a
new base and we had everything we needed to set up a proper
base here.  There's plenty of work to be done, yet.  I want
to give these natives a place where they can live when we're
done, as well.  Then, by the time we can send back rescue,
they will be acting like normal men instead of sick,
perverted creatures."
     "Yes, sir."  Never disagree with a commanding officer.
Besides, that look in his eyes.  Maybe the Colonel WAS
insane.
     "You'll be bunking with Captain Swenson, Lieutenant
McElby and Second Lieutenant Martin, in a four-man room.
You'll share the duties, and they'll be the ones to show you
how.  Any other questions?"
     "Yes, sir.  How many men do you have here?"
     "Two companies, Lieutenant.  A hundred and fifty men,
twelve non-coms and six officers, for a total of one hundred
and sixty-eight personnel, including the two of us.  We are
understaffed with officers, as I have said, and I am glad
you found us.  If you'll go report to Captain Swenson, he'll
start you on makee-learnee.
     Ivan went and reported, watched, and listened.  Captain
Vidkun Swenson ("call me Vid") turned out to be a big,
friendly Swede, with a massive chest barrel and biceps as
big as Ivan's own.  Hair spilled over the top of his uniform
and around the cuffs, hair as blond as the flat-top adorning
his head.  Eyes were crystalline blue, and smiled.  The two
of them must have made an imposing pair as they walked
around the place.
     Ivan managed to keep his face calm as he looked down at
the native prisoners digging away, the trench visibly pink-
colored, probably driving them wild (every crotch Ivan could
see bore a raging hard-on, and he longed to dive in and
start sucking on those boners), but whips from Marines above
flicked down every time any two natives got too close
together.  The Marines seemed to enjoy it.  Perhaps they
did, with no women around to help them with their own
regular boners, a sadomasochistic thrill seemed to be borne
from sexual deprivation.
     Ivan looked for Tarzan, saw him despondently obeying,
with a back scorned with red marks.  They had used him hard,
and Ivan felt a fury build in him.  To try to beat into
submission a free spirit such as Tarzan's was the ultimate
crime!
     Ivan was glad when they turned away, and he and Captain
Swenson walked off down the rift to a part already dug
deeply, filled with pink mist that wafted away, presumably
towards the sea.
     "Would you like to inspect the digging, Lieutenant?"
Captain Swenson offered.
     "I can see it fine from up here, sir, Vid." Ivan said.
He looked at Captain Swenson, saw the captain looking
around, did so himself.  They were quite alone.  Ivan felt
Vid's arm go around his waist, and turned to him, startled.
     "Have you noticed the bottom of the rift, Lieutenant?"
     "No, sir." Ivan ignored the arm, it could be only
friendliness, and it felt awful good around his waist.
     "Take a closer look."
     Ivan did.  Boulders here and there made a maze of the
place.  Plenty of hiding places.  At one place, he could see
a pair of black boots sticking out.  A man taking his ease?
Face down?
     Ivan felt himself guided to the right by Captain
Swenson and the boots grew into green trouser legs and
buttocks, and then a broad back and then...
     Two Marines were down there in the rift, one giving the
other a blow-job.  The mist obscured them, gave only hints
of the men, but Ivan saw enough to understand.
     "I see." he said.
     "What our Commander does not know will not hurt him in
this matter.  One must have a man in command of troops, but
in this matter, he is of a frozen mind." Captain Swenson
turned a dazzlingly white smile on Ivan.  "Men must find
their pleasure where they can, and the pink mist is pleasant
for short times.  You must not think that all of us are
monsters.  The work must be done, orders are orders and the
Colonel orders it, but other than that, a man is his own."
     "I quite agree.  But I don't like the whips the men are
using." Ivan let himself be guided down a slope marked with
many boots and bare feet.  Even the natives, then, made
their way down here.  That made Ivan feel somewhat better.
But those whips, just the same...
     Vid guided them into the mist, and Ivan felt it again
as pink fingers on his body, his skin prickled and warmed
and he became more than led by the captain; rather, they
walked side by side along the ways, vague shapes of men
having sex around them, to an unoccupied niche that seemed
to belong to Captain Swenson, for he guided Ivan expertly to
a convenient rock, sat Ivan down on it, and proceeded to
doff his clothing slowly, teasingly.
     Vid had such an open, honest, pleasant face, that
smiled benevolently down as his lithe fingers danced over
his buttons.  The shirt pulled apart as he did so, his chest
strained itself free of the clothing, almost reaching for
Ivan, and Ivan ran his fingers into the heavy coating of
man-fur, playing with the fur, pinching it, pulling it, and
Vid gulped, sighed as he tugged off the shirt and stepped
closer for Ivan's touch.  Ivan was staring right at the
ample breasts from his perch, and he reached out with his
face and tongued the brown oval nipple, which promptly
puckered into button-like hardness.  Vid ran his hands over
Ivan's neck and into his shirt and onto his back, the
fingertips skating over his body, touching, feeling Ivan and
Ivan left the pert nipple and dove into the deep brush of
Vid's armpit, tasting clean man sweat blended with the
natural odor of male musk, lapping at it with long strokes,
Ivan felt the hairs like satin brushes on his tongue and Vid
lifted him up to kiss him hard, Vid's tongue found its way
into Ivan's mouth, an impudent pink invader and Ivan relaxed
his jaws, permitted total access to his new friend.
     After a time, Vid released Ivan and Ivan worked his way
down Vid's body, tasting Vid's adam's-apple as a bony bump
on his neck, sucking at the hollow of his throat, tasting
the collar bones and running his tongue like a bare-footed
dancer over the hills of Vid's breasts, the hairs like mossy
grass, the tiny crease beneath like a brook full of man-
sweat, to drink from and be refreshed, down further over the
white, smooth, taut stomach and its line of hairs that
struggled their way downward, thin but never vanquished, and
onto--the damned Marine trousers.
     Vid wore a snow-white, nylon, woven-cloth belt that was
closed with a brass fastener peculiarly the military's, and
Ivan knew it well enough to unclasp it quickly, and then a
single large button and the zipper, the archaic, damnable
zipper (why didn't the Marines use Velcro like everyone
else?) that made a metallic rasp and....  Hurrah!  No
underwear.  A large salami-shaped hunk of Swedish cock
sprang free, red and dripping with precome, a feast for the
hungry man within.  Ivan gratefully sank onto it and let the
precome ooze into his mouth without swallowing, permitting
it to aid his saliva in greasing up the Nordic schlong.
     Slowly but surely, without hesitation or catching, Ivan
slid the massive dick deeper and deeper into himself, not
knowing how big it was but taking it as it came to him, as
he could, and it fit into his throat like a familiar friend,
and Ivan's nose tickled with Vid's pubic hairs, and the base
was attained at last, and Ivan had the entirety of the cock
within him.
     Ivan sent his hands back around Vid's buttocks to ease
the fatigues down and they fell to mid-thigh, and Ivan
slowly relinquished his prize, leaving it grey with his
saliva, thoroughly coated and slimy and easy to take once
again, which he hastened to do.
     Ivan tugged at Vid's buttocks as he deep-throated the
big Swede, pulling them apart and manipulating the lumps of
flesh that tensed and puckered in as Vid began to add his
force to the depth of Ivan's thrusts.
     Ivan heard/sensed another man join them, someone who
knelt behind Vid and sent a wet tongue in between the
asscheeks that Ivan held apart.
     The mist was alive with men making love, ghostly moans
and gasps and muttered instructions.  It was all like a
dream, or rather, as if the entire world was with them
making love, and Ivan surrendered Vid's buttocks to the
unknown third man, concentrated on his attack on Vid's cock.
     Vid lurched forward and Ivan heard the man behind Vid
rise to his feet, there came the rasp of zipper and Ivan
grinned, held the buttocks apart for the pressure of cloth
on his hands, and the hint of slimy precome on his fingers
as the third man's cock brushed past them and into Vid's
waiting hole.
     Vid had done this before, for he took the man's cock
without flinching, merely a gasp and Ivan found the man's
thrusts were causing Vid's cock to fuck his mouth, he held
still and permitted this, unzipped his own pants to take out
his cock, add his hand flogging his cock to the sexual fray.
     Ivan's head was chock-a-block against the stone behind
him, Vid was hunching/being hunched deep into him and Ivan
pounded his pud and let Vid fuck his mouth, harder, faster,
and the third man groaned, and Ivan felt come fall from
Vid's ass onto his cock in cold splashes of pearl, Vid's
cock erupted into his mouth in a gusher of passion, and Ivan
was surrounded by the smell and feel and taste of come, he
jerk-spurted, spraying the boots and trouser-legs of Vid and
the other man, ivory white against olive green and worn,
black-leather boots.
     Vid wrapped himself around Ivan's mouth, held him tight
for a time, then straightened up and let Ivan get to his
feet.  Ivan did so and, curiosity overcoming him, leaned
around Vid to see their third man.
     "Glad I wasn't late for this." David said and grinned.
     "David?  What are you doing here?" Ivan felt
embarrassed.
     "Same thing you were doing.  Vid wants to talk to us,
and this is as private as we can get.  Are you okay?"
     "Yeah, sure." Ivan found that, with the orgasm, the
pink mist had no effect on him despite the vast quantity
around them, for a few minutes at least.
     "Good.  We only have a few more minutes.  What do you
think of this place?" Vid asked.
     "I hate it.  I want out, but I want to take the natives
with me."
     "Me, too." Vid said.  "About the natives, I agree,
Marines should not own slaves no matter what the reason or
how good it is.  But our Commander's plan will not work
despite the native help, willing or unwilling."
     "Why not?" Ivan asked.
     "You haven't been here long." David said in his defense
as much as a chide.  "How did we get here?"
     "Crashed."
     "Why did we crash?" What was David's game?
     "I don't know.  Some kind of field...oh."
     "Right." Vid agreed.  "There is no use to repair the
troop transport, it will only crash again and perhaps take
all of us with it.  But it is being repaired, and soon the
Commander will insist we all get aboard.  Much as I dislike
it, there is only one thing to do."
     "What is that?" Ivan asked.
     "We must remove the Colonel from command."
     Mutiny.  An ugly word, no matter what the reason.
     But what other choice was there?  To get aboard the
ship, and crash, and maybe die?
     "I'm in." Ivan said.  "God help us all."
     Vid smiled.  "Good.  Let me introduce you to the rest
of our compatriots.  The men who have been waiting here for
us.  We must act fast."
     The men having sex all around him.  Not just for sex,
but to discuss a mutiny.
     Talk about the way to earn a dishonorable discharge!

                      END OF CHAPTER 13

                       TO BE CONTINUED