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LOST BOYS IN ARMAGEDDON

by Macout Mann

III

I was left in a room that during the day served as a reception area. A few minutes later Piers showed up, bringing my chlamys with him.

"We're not supposed to have sex in the dormitory," he explained. "Need to save our energy for visitors. So we have go over to the club, and we must be dressed to go outside. So many rules."

I slipped on my garment, and we walked the fifty yards or so to the adjacent building. Unlike what I would have imagined, the club was brightly lit. Even at midnight it was nearly filled with partiers. There were a number of lost boys wandering about, some in their chlamys, some bareassed.

"We can stay clothed in the club, if we wish," Piers said, "but once we are naked we must stay that way until we leave."

Most of the customers in the club were male and in various stages of undress, but there were a few hetero couples here and there.

"What about the girls?" I asked.

"They're locals," Piers answered. "Couples are welcome as long as they're broad minded. We get an occasional ho looking to get picked up."

Piers introduced me around to the boys that weren't involved with visitors. I was amazed at how different we all are.

"Yes, we have all kinds," Piers told me. "Prissy queens to stud muffins. All colors. All sizes. From all four corners. You learn to get along with all of them. Everybody's in the same boat here after all."

"Piers!"

The person calling to him was in his twenties, a good-looking blue eyed blond in khaki shorts and evidently nothing else.

"Piers, I was hoping to see you. I'm off in a few, and then must head back to the wogs, but what about we go up for a root before I have to go?"

He sounded just like another Brit to me, but in time I'd learn to tell the difference between the Brits and the Ozzies and some others. Later Piers would tell me that this guy was an Australian lieutenant ending his R&R. They'd already been together a couple of times.

"Sure. I'll have another go, if my friend here can watch," Piers replied.

"Why not?" the soldier said.

He made arrangements with the matron and we went upstairs to his assigned room. He stripped. True, he only wore shorts. Piers also removed his chlmays.

I got to really see Piers' body for the first time. He was something. Sure, it was a body that no old fashioned body-builder admirer would take a second look at, but what most anybody in this tragic war-zone could only dream of. Broad shoulders. Slim waist. Even a tight gut with packed abs. I couldn't believe I was drooling.

Piers later told me about a workout room we're all encouraged to use.

"Probably be the last time I'll be starkers with other guys for another six months," the soldier said. "When I was first called up, we had a real poofter in our company. Could have a naughty anytime I wanted. But he stepped on an IED and now he's back home without a leg. Didn't lose his donger though.

"I'm ordering me a Scotch and Water. You want one Piers?"

"Sure. You ordering one for my friend too?"

"Is he going down on me like you are?"

"He will. But I'll have to tell the matron so you'll get charged for him too. You know the rules."

"Fuck it. At least show me what you've got, mate."

Piers nodded, so I said, "Why not?" and shed my chlmays.

He ordered three Scotch and Waters.

Piers sat next to him on the bed and began to play with his dick. It was average sized and already hard.

"Are you going to remember me and ask for my arse on your next R&R?" Piers asked.

"If there is a next R&R. We've all got to live for the bloody moment, mate. Got to find fun where we can.

"So eat me, Piers-boy."

Piers did as he was told. This was the first time I'd watched guys having sex in the flesh. My prong sprang to attention like never before.

They progressed from sucking to fucking. The soldier wasn't gentle. He rammed Piers' ass for all he was worth.

"Yes," he murmured, "got to find fun where we can. And you're a spunky one, you are."

"And I love your bloody dick," Piers answered.

"You say that to all your tricks, I'll bet"

"Not I."

I couldn't believe they were kidding around with each other, while screwing. I had a lot to learn.

When the soldier dropped his load, he continued in the same vein. "Most succulent spunk you'll have up your arse `til you see me again," he said. "Want to taste what's left on my joy stick?

"Yeah, clean it off good mate."

Piers went down on him again, leaving his dick soft and unsullied. The soldier got up, pulled on his shorts, placed a euro-note in Piers' hand, and said, "'Til next time then, mate." Then he was gone.

"That was weird," I said.

"Nothing around here's weird," Piers replied. "They all react differently. You respond the way they want you to. Do what they ask and you'll get a nice tip. See? Don't see cash much anymore." He held up the euro-note.

"Now we can get rid of this gnats' piss and get a real drink."

Piers explained that when a visitor ordered a drink for a boy, it had just enough liquor in it to color the water. When a boy ordered for himself and paid with his tip money, it was served full strength.

He ordered scotches for both of us, then called the matron to say that we were through with this room, but that Room 202 had been reserved for us. She said we might as well keep this one and she'd rent out 202, if it was needed.

As we sipped our drinks Piers gave me a further explanation of what was going on.

"This is supposed to be `fun time' for us," he began. "The governor, that is Papa Chakales, figures that you've had a pretty tense couple of days. So you ought to relax. For me, it's payment for taking on your training. So we get to stay here at the club, mess around if we want to, eat the club's good food. Only place around where the food's better than the chow hall's.

"What happened with the Aussie wasn't planned. We'll still get to play until noon tomorrow. That's when I go on duty until eight. Us boys work eight hour shifts. We `dog the watch' once a week, so we do different hours every week. Tomorrow, you'll follow me around during my shift. We'll sack out. Then you'll have your first shift, the shift from four `til noon. That's generally the lightest one.

"I'll be watching you the whole time. If a visitor takes you to a room, I'll be listening and watching--the rooms all have hidden cameras in them--so later I can give you advice about how you did, or I can interfere if some peado gets out of line.

"We'll see how things go from there."

We sat next to each other on the edge of the bed and finished our drinks. He put a reassuring arm around my shoulders. For the first time since my folks were killed, I felt really comfortable.

"I figured you'd be pretty knackered," he said. "So I was goanna suggest we just hit the sack, but I noticed how you got it up watching me being fucked. You up for anything? I really need to get off."

"Sure. You wanna get blowed?"

"I'd rather have that pretty arse of yours."

"You know where they keep the lube."

Piers couldn't have been tenderer. Then we spooned together and told each other about our lives before the war. His dad had been a functionary at the British Embassy in Qatar. When hostilities begin, diplomats are supposed to be returned to their own countries. But this one is not a "by the book" war. Terrorists seized embassies. Even governments. Piers, who is sixteen now, found himself alone in the hostile desert, like I did. He had had some sexual experience, though, so he hustled himself across Asia Minor. Unable to prove his identity, he found himself under the "protection" of the Chakaleses. Lying together that night we bonded as well as anybody can during an apocalypse.

We were awakened about nine o'clock by the serving maid bringing our breakfasts. Something else I had to get used to. Women barging in on naked guys engaged in all sorts of stuff.

We lounged around until it was time for almost time for Piers to go on duty. Since I didn't have to save my essence for work, Piers did suck me off...a couple of times.

"You've got a neat wanger," he said.

Although English was the lingua franca here, I could see I was going to have to learn a lot of different slangs.

We put on our chlmays and went down to the club level. Piers took me to a small room behind the bar that contained a video monitor, which he set up for me. "If I go to a room with a visitor," he said, "I may ask you to come with us. If I don't, come in here and watch what goes on. This is where I'll be watching you tomorrow."

It was twelve o'clock, and the club was beginning to fill with guys looking for fun.

Copyright 2016 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.