Rod cherished the warm water cascading over his face and tried to ignore the soreness on his shoulder. He wanted the water hotter, but it felt like fire on his healing skin. Over the sound of the spray, he could hear faint footfall on the tile floor. He stepped out of the spray. “Whose there?” “Just me.” Rod looked at the shadow on other side of the curtain. “Jon?” “Y-yeah.” “What are you doing in here, Private?” He muttered, “Just um, wondering if you wanted your back washed. There was a lot of gunk on there when we took off the bandages.” Rod tilted his head. Jon was the odd one in his squad, and an idea was solidifying about what exactly made him a bit different. Jon had to know this was dangerous behavior in the military, but he was so young and naive it was more harmless than horny. Rod pushed the curtain back. Jon’s eyes went huge and his cheeks turned bright red. Rod was amused, had he not seen a million men naked in the shower already? And here he was blushing like a schoolgirl. “Normally that’s not the kind of behavior you should show to an Sergeant, son, but I’m itchy enough to take you up on that. My shirt was sticking to all the residue earlier.” Jon was wearing a pair of gym shorts and nothing else. He was trying so hard not to look down. Rod turned and showed his back to Jon to prevent the poor Private from passing out. That would be hard to explain. “Is it really healing?” Rod asked. “It is. Lots of healthy, pink tissue granulation. Scabs aren’t ready to come off yet, but it’s healing.” Rod sighed in relief. “That’s good. It’s still so sore though.” “You probably have some deep bruising in the musculature. Can you pass the soap please?” Rod passed it back. Jon wet the washcloth- and promptly dropped the soap. “Oh god,” he squeaked. “I got it,” Rod said. He squatted down to get the bar of soap and put it on the soap rack on the wall. “Wow,” Jon whispered. “Wow what?” “Um.” Jon stammered. “Just – your back is really muscular. Sir.” Rod tilted his head again. “Jon, are you not like the other boys?” “What? What are you talking about Sir?” “You don’t seem to have a lot of pin ups in your bunk area, Private. Haven’t heard you talk about a girl back home either.” “I’m focusing on my military career, Sir.” Rod smothered a laugh. Oh, Jon had rehearsed that. “Oh, ok, I see.” He dropped the subject. A warm washcloth was pressed to his back. Rod groaned. Jon made slow circles, cleaning off the layers of bandage residue and massaging sore muscles. He washed Rod’s back from top to bottom in methodical circles. Rod let his head droop; this was nice. Why couldn’t he get this every time he showered? “I don’t think you’ll need to have the bandages put back on, Sir. Maybe overnight, to protect it.” “Huh?” Rod said. “I said I think you only need bandages at night now.” “Oh. That’s good,” Rod replied. “What’s the little scar on the back of your neck from?” “My brother threw a toy car at me when I was 6. It was a pick up truck, it had a sharp edge and cut me. Needed three stitches.” Jon giggled. “Naughty. I bet you were cute as a kid.” “I mean, I was. But I was also a troublemaker. I deserved getting that truck thrown at me.” Jon smiled. “Your poor mother.”
“You should ask me what the scar on my arm is from.” “Oh?” Rod turned his arm upside down so Jon could see the flat part of his lower arm. “Oh what is that from? Never seen that before..” “Well, I normally wear sleeves,” Rod explained. Rod didn’t say anything when Jon began to wash his shoulders and arms. “What happened?” Jon asked. “I slipped in the woods, fell, and broke my arm on a rock. They had to do an operation to line up the bones again. I was running away from the cops.” “My goodness, you were a troublemaker, Sergeant. How old were you?” “18. I was running from the cops, because I had gotten caught in a compromising position in a car with another person.” Jon laughed. “Such a troublemaker! Your poor mother indeed.” “You should ask who I got caught with.” “Oh? Why? Who did you get with?” Jon asked. “His name was Gerald. That was the reason I had to join the military.” Jon stopped washing his back. “His?” “Yes.” “Why are you telling me this?” Jon whispered. “Cause I think you’re like me, Jon. I just want to let you know, if you are, I understand.” Jon didn’t say anything. “I don’t know. I might be.” “That’s fine. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. We should get out, we’ve been in here a while.” Rod moved to turn off the water. “No don’t turn around!” Rod startled. “What? Why?” “I’m going to get out first.” There was rising panic in Jon’s voice. Ron heared the shower curtain move. “Are you hard?” “No!” Jon squeaked. Rod snickered “Well, I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. But thank you for washing my back. It feels a lot better now. I’m glad to have such fantastic medical staff at this base.” “Happy to provide care for our Sergeants, Sir. Make sure you come back to the infirmary to get a bandage placement for the evening.” “Thank you, Private.”
Rod waited for Jon to get dressed. When he heard the door close, he got out of the shower and changed into some fresh clothes. God, it was so nice that his clothes weren’t sticking to his back anymore. He thought about his conversation and wondered if he had gone too far in revealing personal information. Rod ran a comb through his hair and threw everything into a duffel bag. He left the small bath house and was startled to find Jon waiting for him outside.
“Private. What are you still doing here?” "Um.” Jon scuffed his boot on the ground. “Just wanted to ask. How did you know, that you wanted to be in the car with Gerald, and not with Jenny?” Rod glanced around. They shouldn’t be having this conversation around here. “Well, I didn’t know, but my body did. And the more I listened to my body, the more sense it made.” “Oh,” Jon said. “What does your body tell you?” “I liked washing your back,” Jon whispered. Rod looked Jon in the eyes. “Then let’s do it again shall we?” Jon showed the slightest of smiles. “Ok.”
___________________ Captions are fictional. Let’s see if this gets deleted.
Mama told Theodore to not socialize with the ‘Negro’ who gardened on their property. Theo was told to avoid him at all costs because he would “corrupt” her sweet boy. Mama did not expect or know that someone should have warned the gardener about Theodore, who so easily corrupted him first. There were many daring nights fucking on the dark lawn, fornicating in the shrubbery, and pleasuring each-other with oral in the horsebarn before dawn…
Of course, when Theo was finally caught buried balls deep in the gardener’s behind, Theo got the most severe punishing of his life. He couldn’t sit for days and felt so remorseful he couldn’t even get an erection – but watching the gardener work without shirt slowly fixed that broken organ.
Mama was horrified at the direction of Theo’s gaze even after his punishment, and sent the gardener to another manor and her son off to proper boarding school. Theo was disappointed, but played along because Mama was fool – sending Theo to a boarding school full of vigorous teenage boys? What was she thinking!
Theo had his mind to be his own type of teacher after the lights went out, and indeed sampled many young men for many days. But when he was alone with his own hand and own time, his thoughts drifted back to that sweaty gardener with the most beautiful dark skin and the deepest moans…
Theo swore one day he would graduate university, find that man, and hire him for his own home. And he’d never call him ‘Negro’ again. He’d call him by his proper name, Nelson -hm, no Dear Nelson- and require them both to always be naked. It would be such a sight!
________________________________________________________________ Captions are fictional. Check out @felixdeon‘s art. Never dull.
Master Abdul won’t stop staring at my slave. It’s making me crazy. I
admire my slave’s ability to not appear annoyed, but it not professional
for one man to be oggling another’s slave so shamelessly.
“Master Adbul,” I ask, popping a date into my mouth. “Are you here during this meeting or not?” He
blinks, but manages to tear his eyes away. “My
apologies… just your boy, he is captivating. Where did you find him?” “An
auction. In Persia. A nomadic boy, captured in war times…so many stray men,
and not enough villages to go back to, unfortunately.” “Doesn’t he resent you for that?” I
chuckle and eat another date. “Goodness no. He is very loyal, because I
also bought his sick brother and gave him to my sister. She healed him. As long as he knows
where his twin is, he’s very obedient.” Master Abdul chuckles. “Why on earth do you give in to a slave’s feelings? That’s what the whip is for.” “What, so he’ll resent me more? I think not.” Master
Abdul did not like my answer. “Honestly, I think you should show the
boy that the world is cruel and unfair. The sooner he learns that the
better.” Shah Mohammed speaks up. “Can we continue the meeting please?” “Master Abdul,” I say, “He already experienced war. I think that’s cruel and unfair as is.” “You should sell him to me…I would make him into an even finer slave.” I scoff. “So you can fuck him and make him scrub your floors like a scullery maid just so you can watch his ass?” He stands up, red in the face, “How dare you-” Shah Mohammed stands up too. “Sit down.
Master Abdul, you’re acting a fool, openly coveting a man’s property
like that. How he trains his slaves is none of your business, and
jealousy is unsightly.” Master Abdul grumbles and sits.
I
glance over at my boy. I can see the panic in his eyes, but not on his
face. He’s kept his position, his posture, his composure. My heart
swells.
We finish our meeting on taxes and then Master
Abdul excuses himself as quickly as he could, no doubt to find a whore
for the evening.
Shah Mohammed watches him go. “Good heavens, he leaves such a bad taste in my mouth.” “I have to agree… no manners, what so ever.” My slave is busy making us a fresh pot of mint tea.
“Well, taxes are rather boring…maybe he wanted to escape that.” Shah Mohammed chuckles. “Perhaps so.” I sip the fresh cup handed to me. “Mmnn. Say, Shah…do you still like to watch?” A smile curls under his mustache. “Oh very, very much so.”
I glance up at my slave. “Come here boy. Kneel before me. Please me.” My slave does not flinch or hesitate. He simply passes me a cup of fragrant tea and kneels onto the soft carpet under my slippers. “Any requests Sir?” “Not too fast…take your time. Make me nice and hard.” My slave parts my robes and finds my cock hidden inside. “Anything for you Sir,” he murmurs, nuzzling my thigh. His beard tickles my skin and one of my testicles. A moment later, he starts. Across from me, Shah Mohammed sighs and sips his tea as he slides down into his seat. “Praise the heavens, that is a beautiful sight watching him suck you like that.” I close my eyes and tilt my head back. “I’ll have to take your word on that, but let me tell you Shah, it feels marvelous.”
