Purr

After the tempestuous dance of dating, fucking, sucking and breaking up comes a quieter period, usually during the latter years of university or thereafter. If you were lucky, you found a good man and your path through life seemed clear; That may not be how it  works out but....every couple has a honeymoon period. If this hasn't been your good fortune and you feel the necessity to find someone with whom to mate, you embark on a quiet but purposeful search and rescue mission to find HIM.

Along the road you'll find, I did, a lot of hims who had qualities I liked even if in some cases it meant over looking some sort of defect varying from the desirable; Their desire to be a success and therefore worked all the time. To the undesirable; They may have been able to blow a 747 into the air but their lack of bathing habits put an immediate kibosh on things. (You will meet this sort of person on one of the two or three days they've been tubbed or showered or both and they look and smell just like everyone else. That's day one. Day two goes by as you've done something like gone to the lake or played water polo. Days four and from there on begin the encrustation and their desire to wear one pair of athletic socks until all that's left is the bit that goes around the ankle.) Between these polarities there will be  a line of perfectly nice guys, each of which you like well enough but not enough to begin playing house. Sure, they're occasionally sleeping with you  but...it seems more perfunctory than affectionate; The sort of roll in the hay that follows a good date, it's the perfect ending. Everyone gets off whatever they want to get off but that's it.

Then there are your friends and family who join in this bush beating to find HIM. If you're lucky, and I was, your parents, grandparents, siblings etc. are perfectly comfortable with your sexual selection which, they believe, confers on the them the title of man sleuth. Male brothers and cousins are marginally better at this than the ladies. They'll meet someone at the gym, play doubles tennis or whatever and meet this guy whom they suspect, but do not know, is gay. A casual introduction is made, usually at a bar, and then they slide you off to the can or behind a stand of potted palms and tell you that This Is The One. They just know it. Further, they have this set up, someone will call them, they'll excuse themselves, go away and then the road is clear. And it is. It's clear you're going to have to make some sort of fumbling apology for your idiot relative and you hope they'll understand. On rare occasions, twice in my case, the other guy, who really was a good guy, roars with laughter, tells you its happened before, no harm, lets have a great evening and you do. Some guys do not like finding that their sexuality was questioned and those evenings usually end before the entree is even ordered.

With all this desperate search to find you a MAN, whether you're really looking or not, I'm lucky,  I have a committee of one who can sort them out in about two minutes, hand in an opinion and that's that. It's my cat, Purr.

Lest you think this is some pampered puss, all fluffy and with a ribbon around it's neck, you might step back and have a closer look at Purr. Even resting on a chair, one paw over the edge, you tweak that this isn't your ordinary house cat and you'd be correct. Purr is an African Caracal cat that I got from friends when she was a kitten. It was their intention to raise her as theirs but a serious auto accident put both of them out of commission leaving Purr, then called Sheba, up for grabs. Even as a kitten, adorable as she was, it was clear she was going to be a big cat and that shied  many away. And then the bleeding heart sucker about animals, me, came along and said that of course I'd take her. Picked her up and took her home.

My family was pleased as punch that I had a pet, their working theory was that everyone needs a pet, it gives them some sort of structure in their life, provides companionship and, at ten weeks old, Purr did seem to have, in limited ways, all those qualities. However, many found her piercing golden eyes, the tufts coming from her ears, always in motion looking like radar looking for incoming, her paws almost bigger than butter plates and, of course, when you sprung them, her claws atypical of a house cat or pet of any sort. sprang out which proved Purr was a game changer.

Fortunately, because she was so young when she came to live with us, she was completely socialized with the family, the people who worked for and around us, our friends etc. In the fall, she loved it when the gardener raked all the leaves into a large pile. Her motive wasn't to scatter them but to conceal herself and spring out when someone she knew and loved went by. Or, if someone she didn't know and love wandered on to our back lawn, they got the shit scared (literally, we found the evidence) out of them as they were pursued across the lawn by what was to them at least a lion.

When it was time for me to move out, I was lucky enough to find a really nice duplex, complete with swimming pool, whose corner touched the property of my parents. Although we all had fences, they were as nothing to a cat who could leap twelve feet in the air and catch their own food-a useful attribute in a household pet. Plus, it goes without saying, some sort of elaborate security system wasn't necessary, Purr was there and perpetually on the prowl. Moreover, as she had access to both homes, and had bat-like hearing, if she detected something across the fence she didn't understand, it was just seconds before she was going in through an upstairs pet door and doing her rounds in their home. (My mother said when my father was out of town, it was comforting to have Purr share her bed as she felt perfectly comfortable.)  The only incident that might be seen as negative was when some drunks got the wrong address and tried to get in one of the side doors at my parents. By the time the police got there, they'd sobered up enought to tell the officers that a lion had attacked them, ripped off their clothes and snarled each time they moved. The officers, who knew Purr, looked over to see her casually sitting with part of someone's pants stuck in her claw. They weren't badly injured, just a little blood.

As the cops left, she jumped on top of their car while they drove her around the block to my home. While I'm sure they did not feel everyone should have one, they could not deny that as cats go, this one could do it all. If they were parked, eating lunch let us say, she'd sail through a window, not wanting their food-she had an aversion to Mayonnaise-but just to get a head scratch or a burp on the siren. One detective wished he had one trained to protect and to serve his men. The simple answer there was that Purr would protect and defend the officers she knew or, since she seemed to recognize the uniform, might well take on anyone who attacked in any way an officer. (In an incident not publicized, she had found a cop she did not know but sensed the urgency and recognized his uniform pinned down behind his vehicle. She'd circled around, jumped the guy with the gun and went for the jugular. He exsanguinated on the spot. While the cop and the force was awfully grateful, there was every hope this was a one time incident. Save for eight or ten officers who quietly said if they were ever pinned down, they hoped Purr would amble by and rectify the situation. Far as they were concerned, she could disembowel the perpetrator and, on the spot, before he croaked, eat his guts.)

At one point her love of uniforms made me think I'd have to take a cop or a fireman, a Marine, airman, soldier into my bed or Purr would be unhappy. And still my family and friends looked about......the usual refrain to my mother was, "Sandy is such a nice guy, he deserves the best, someone who will love him and make him happy." On those occasions, she'd point out I had Purr which was enough lover as anyone could handle. (She later had a shocking thought and hoped that the person to whom she'd said didn't imply she meant that Purr and I were.....having......who would think that?)

Weeks in advance I was told my family was giving a cocktail, dinner party to the honor of some important ambassador and I was expected to be there. Full Stop. When my parents shifted into social mode, things got tense as perfection was the goal and nothing less would do. The day before the big deal I wandered into their kitchen, cleverly disguised as a production line, leaned in their big fridge to find something edible and got my ass whacked with a wooden spoon. It was Vanessa, THE cateress and while I knew her well, this close to party time meant no one was allowed in her kitchen. She gave me a big smile, sort of apologized just before she told me to, "Scat:", The cat, however, could stay. Purr was always welcome even if I was not.


That night I dressed at my parents house so that Mom could have final say on what I'd put on. I shared my room with two men from Secret Service, we introduced ourselves and privately agreed this wasn't much fun. Their names were "Joe" and "Pete" just like "Dragnet" from decades ago. They were aware of that and preferred it be dropped.. At that moment Purr came around the door-I wondered why she wasn't wearing at least a single strand of pearls at the very least; It was the sort of touch my mother would have loved, the two ladies wearing matched strings of real pearls.....How Purr might have reacted to this-her aversion to collars or even a bow at Christmas-was well known. However, it was mother who would do it and she'd suffer through it. But only just.

"Jesus, what the fuck is that?" sayeth Pete and he jumped on the bed.
Explaining Purr wasn't always an easily done thing. I could reassure them she was harmless, just as playful as a kitten, but a cat weighing in at 40 plus pounds, teeth that could break bones and claws that could remove flesh was hard to sell as just as playful as a kitten. On the other side, Joe and Purr were on the floor, wrestling and, apparently having a fine old time. I'd seen this before, this was someone she liked for whatever reason Fortunately I had an extra tux and we were very close to the same size. ( He's spent more time in the gym, but that just made the suit emphasize his body.)

I looked closely at Joe, pleasant face, no beauty but that sort of masculine handsome that is preferable to outstanding looks. Close cropped hair-Pete had the matching cut-and something I'd learned to look for, well manicured hands. Not the salon kind but what a guy can do for himself and look squared away when he's finished.

We now swung into party mode, sort of. In their ears the guys heard a modest group of cars was approaching and down they went. In about two minutes, I assume they "swept" the entrance foyer, we were allowed down to make our little reception line. Doors swung open and in walked the Ambassdor, his lady as well as our invited guests. There were no latecomers, everyone arrived at the same time even if they'd had to sit in their cars in the street. Coats were taken and we all moved into one of the larger rooms where cocktails and really good canapés were served. (I hoped Vanessa, as she usually did, would leave a box of them someplace for me to find the next day.)

We were pushing, I guess, informality so most sat down, the Ambassador taking a chair that made it clear it was from that chair authority reigned. And one more thing. Purr slid behind the furniture and posed herself by the Ambassador. He was surprised-most people are-and then charmed. He reached down and stroked her head and she purred. Pictures of the two of them were taken. My father shot me a look that said, "Get that cat out of here" but with the Ambassador holding her by his side, I could do nothing. She immediately became the center of attention. Only when Joe walked over, did she do anything which was follow him.

During dinner we were not to know that Purr had come back and was, again, sitting by the Ambassador. Apparently he liked her for he signaled no one was to remove her. Joe shrugged his shoulders and looked at me. I tried to smile but wondered if they could arrest me for my housecat molesting an Ambassador.

Dinner was considered a triumph and, after Brandies, the party left as precisely as it had arrived. The Ambassador left with many kind words for our hospitality.....and the cat. She was invited to the embassy although we were not.

Upstairs the service guys and I groaned out of our formal wear. Joe sat on the end of the bed in his boxers and socks and stretched revealing a remarkable body but one lightly furred over. As he pulled on his pants and his shirt, he thanked me for whatever I'd done and as far as he was concerned, could he borrow the cat to take to other events where the Secret Service had to appear? Couldn't be any better protection than she provided.

He lingered a moment or so-Purr had appeared and wanted to seal their friendship or whatever.
"That cat loves you like she doesn't love many others."
"Animal magnetism?" And smiled.
He rubbed his chin against her chin and got the purr up and running. "Hey, Sandy, let me know what it costs to get that tux cleaned, no reason you should be out." He was almost out the door. "Oh, I have a habit of picking up things and putting them in my pockets, better check to see if I lifted anything from your folks." Laughed and he was out the door.

Many people tended to treat me as not quite an adult, a temptation and conclusion as I was usually seen in the company of my parents. Joe, however, approached me as an adult; I liked that.

Home, I took a warm shower, then a cold shower, got dried off, flopped on my bed, scratched Purr behind her ears and told her it had been a hard night and quiet, even though the sun would come up, not to wake me. As one last act as I lay there on my bed I picked up my extra tux and started through the pockets. Clearly Joe was no pickpocket until I got to an inside breast pocket. There was a piece of paper, folded, which had my name on it. It got opened.

"Sandy, sorry there weren't a few moments to talk you. But I'd like to if you can find the time. I'm a bitch to reach but here's a number, leave a message and I'll get back to you. Please, I really want to know your better. Joe"

Purr stiffened aware that my mood had changed quickly. Then relaxed. I threw the suit on the floor, put the note on a table by my bed, shoved myself under the covers and that was all she wrote.


Morning came before I wanted it to. There was a rapping at my bedroom door accompanied by the voice of my mother wondering if I was decent? I pulled a sheet a bit further up than my knees then yelled to her to come in.

She was holding a newspaper and the picture on the front grabbed my attention as few ever have. There was a large, full color picture of the Ambassador looking at my cat whilst she looked up at him. There was an article in which all guilty parties were named, my parents were noted as influential and I was named as their handsome, available son. That was it for the family but Purr got two paragraphs. Part of one from the Ambassador who claimed to never have so charmed by the family and their wonderful pet, never had he received such a reception. (I'd put money on that.) Vanessa got a few lines about what was served, certain elements on the house were described and then it returned to Purr.

"I am so sorry, Mom, it just never occurred to me that she'd join the party....."
Mom waved me off. "Darling it was dear Purr who did all this. Certainly it was a nice party but.....not for the front page." Looking about, she was trying to spot the cat of the moment. "That dear cat, she's done nothing but bring happiness since she came home." Purr finally appeared from a closet where her litter box was. To save her the bend over, Purr went to mother, put her head in her lap and.....almost smiled.



Iwas able to grab some boxers-left on the floor the previous evening-slipped out of bed while woman and cat had a love fest in which I was not needed.

I also had the note from Joe. I took my phone into a cloak closet, dialed the number and, as he'd said might happen, got his voice mail. Left my name, number, thanked him for his note and cut it there. The Secret Service would probably not approve of this and so there was nothing on the tape inflammatory. The only problem I had was getting out of the closet. The boxers did nothing to restrain a raging hard on and as worldly as mother was, I would be embarrassed to be caught in mating mode....I heard her call me and then the door open and close. Rather than walk, I folded down on the closet floor and jerked off. I tasted really excellent that morning, must be Vanessa's goodies.

Purr had followed me to the closet, watched me pull my meat-I was used to her otherwise it might have been hard. (a buddy of mine says their dog follows him to the can, sits there and watches, number one or two or both, which he finds disturbing. )

It was a Saturday and since I was already up, drained and excited, a run, a long one, seemed a good idea. I grabbed a zip front hoodie, a swimmer's jock and some running shorts that were split clear up the side to the waist band. I had no destination so headed away from population. I did, however, stick my phone in one of my Kangaroo pockets, my driver's license, a credit card in a concealed spot and I was off. Purr followed for a block and then realizing I was headed out and beyond, went home to see if anyone else, beside my Mom. would be up to loving her.

I'm a good runner and by slowing my pace to a sort of lope can go a long way never forgetting I might have to turn around to go home. That's why the I.D. and the credit card, I'd been known to cover fifty or so miles and, as the sun set, knew better than to reverse the course. Under any circumstances, running at night was an invitation to trouble.

About two hours into the run, my phone rang. I prayed it wasn't my family needing me but, dutiful child, I answered. It wasn't the family, it was Joe. There was a silence while I down shifted into neutral, tried to stop panting and finally choked out, "Yeah, it's me I'm out running".  Where was I? Best I could tell him I was on the verge of FTM 26 just passed the expressway that ringed the area. "I can get to you, that is.....if you want me to."
"Of course, but I'm yucky, sweaty and almost indecently dressed."
"I've got a fix on your phone, stay right there, cool down and, uh, bout twenty minutes I'll pull up. When you hear the siren you'll know I'm almost there. " And he clicked off.

Based on the little I'd seen and known of him, he seemed a great guy, maybe a perfect candidate. But then there was the Secret Service an organization which I felt would not approve of me, any sort of physical relationship at all. Why would they? Out here in the country, he and I could go dancing naked in a meadow but that would end when we hit any sort of populated area. Reluctantly, I abandoned him and, just to make it easier on him, would tell him why. I dreaded doing that but it was better done than allowed to run on at which point it might get messy. I knew I could leave Purr with my parents and go someplace. The Antarctic seemed a good idea just then; You could worry more about getting your cock frozen off rather than using it to stuff it up someone's ass.

Sitting by the road, my hoodie unzipped and my shorts practically not on me, I probably looked like an out of town hooker seeing what the yokel trade was like. Before I could find out, there was a blast on a siren and, a moment later, up pulled a dark sedan with no markings. From the sound of the engine, in neutral, I felt it would go very, very fast.

The door swung open and a voice said to get in. I did. Then an arm pulled me to him and I was hugged and kissed. My nuts were played with, there was a great smile on his face and his first words were, "Don't plan on going home tonight."

I almost started my speech about what a great guy he was, how desirable he was but his employment gave me hiccups about any possible relationship we might have. What he did was pull me over in his lap, face up, and just look at me. Underneath some of my vertebrae I could feel someone loading a steel rod into position and I knew that I had caved. Rolling over, which below a steering wheel isn't easy if you've got broad shoulders. I found the mound, unzipped the casing and, presto stompo, up popped a fine looking cock. Nice veins, good length and circumference. What was there to do? I sucked him off then didn't let go until I'd edged him into a second shoot. Hard to writhe and thrash about with someone blowing you and being behind a steering wheel.

There was a stillness in the car save for the sound of sweat dripping and men having post sexual encounter breathing. Carefully and with some squirming, I got upright.
"Any of me left in there?"
I kissed him so he could see for himself.
"Uh huh. Is this how you introduce yourself? Not a bad idea but unexpected." He just smiled a shit eating grin. "Had to get you good right up front before you ran away, decided that the Law mixed with Sandy didn't have a chance."

I ducked my head because, of course, he was dead on. Still, however positively he seemed to cast it, it was a real worry to me.
"We don't even know each other. Christ, my cat mauls you and then on a country road you maul me. Messages in pockets and, yes, I called."
"Tell me you're not interested."
Of course I couldn't. But I was going to hang on to one or two straws. "Anyone who had taste and some knowledge of men would be interested in you. You're not perfect which is what makes you so desirable. You're warm and surprising..and you want me to fall in love with you."
"Said it better than I could. While you stew about everything, lets go for a swim."
I just looked at him. After all I'd said, he was like a kid in summer deciding the next thing he wanted to do was go for a swim.

He shifted into drive and we cruised along at a speed that was probably above the local allowable.

"I don't know why, but I wanted you the moment I saw you, a little shy, good looking, oh so polite and......lonely. Then the cat bounced in and that sealed it, if that cat loved me as she did, than that meant only one thing, that was her way of telling me, take him."
Silence seemed a good idea. There was a quirky logic in what he said, Purr had never, ever responded to any one as she had to Joe. It was precisely the way she treated me.

"Also, I didn't think I'd ever see you again so....I took a chance,  big one for me and left the note in the jacket. You found it, called and if you hadn't then....that would have been the end. Oh, Sandy, you're such a great guy, I wonder if you know that. Forget your looks, your money, you have an incandescence about you that reaches out, or it did to me, and says.....now, I want you but can't tell you. Take me, Joe, oh please....."

He was only 99% right. I looked away as the scenery rushed by. How he could express love for me and risk killing us I didn't know but...who cared. We'd die together.

I almost whispered. "You're right about a lot of things. I did want you there in the bedroom with all of us in various stages of undress, it wasn't the bulge in your shorts, it was the way you looked at me. Did it all evening. When Purr followed you out, I knew something, I knew I wanted you but had no idea as to how to get you. Calling the Secret Service and asking that you be given over to me for my own purposes wasn't going to work out. I don't even know your last name....."
"Helgerson, good Norwegian name although I'm half Polish, on my Moms side."

He turned onto a road I hadn't even seen and must have wished to cover our track with the spray of dirt and sand. It was and wasn't a typical road that led to a farm. But there were no barns, no farm house, no cattle or horses in a fenced field. We went down a slight hill, circled to the right and there was......what? Not like any farm I'd ever seen. Huge, long concrete structure with only a few slit windows near the top, plus some holes between them. Almost like a fort.

Joe rounded one end and there was a fairly large parking lot. Unmarked cars, fire trucks, SWAT trucks, trucks of all kind plus some regular vehicles. He pulled into a parking space and told me to get out. I wondered if this was where he slapped some cuffs on me and I was gagged. But, no, we just walked up to a glass door, went in, signed a sheet on a desk and walked through a sealed door which beeped to let us in.

We were in a garage of sorts. Clearly where vehicle maintenance was done. It seemed to be about a third of the building. Another door and we were on the outside of a large, caged area. "Weapons. We may play with some later today. You ever shoot?" He wasn't interested in my answer as we were in what looked like the ready room at any police stations. One large room where men were watching screens, talking on the phone......behind us a bunch of small doors not very far apart. "Interrogation rooms". Logically we passed what were holding cells and, behind that, a small but efficient looking jail.

"So much for law and order." He almost had his arm around my waist when we entered the next area, a gym. Full basketball court at one end, free weights, machines, jogging track, mats for whatever. And finally, the locker room. Taking out a key, he opened a large wooden door that led to a locker big enough to hold a poker game for two or three people. Clothes, Books, all the things he wanted or needed were there.

"The pool's over there....you need a fresh jock, only rule here, gotta wear a jock while swimming, more to keep piss and semen out of the water, used to be nude only. No women are at this post so when you see guys wandering around in jocks or whatever, it's just their convenience. Come on, while I'm at it, lets get you kitted out."

There was a large room filled with all manner of clothing, everything you could put on your body. Very heavy parkas for winter, wind breakers with nothing on them saveUSA but given the color, clearly who ever was wearing it had some standing. Joe pulled one of those, two navy blue sweat pants, a zip front hoodie, navy as well as a regular sweat shirt, also navy. Ten pair of athletic socks, two pair or New Balance sneakers, navy, a navy watch cap, four jocks, two light weight and two heavy duty, a fabric gun holster for under the arm, two shorts, four T shirts, all of which had an American Flag on the chest and he paused.

"You're not licensed I'm going to bet."
Somehow I didn't think he meant 'drivers' .
"No matter a few days at the range and we'll get you at least part way trained. Need to call home, or I will, and tell your parents you're with the Secret Service being appraised....you'll be gone a week or so. I have what they call a Bunkie out here, good enough for two, so you'll be with me."
"Joe, I can't join the Secret Service, I think I'm too young and probably have no aptitude for it. I'm clumsy, not very well coordinated...."
"So what? I can make you my partner first and worry about the small shit later." There was a long pause. "Anyway, I can't have you and the Service so I've made my choice, you."
I wanted to know the answer but sensed I knew it. The clothes, the week with him out wherever we were, his determination to somehow squeeze me in.....he thought he had a compromise, make me into a Secret Service Agent, Junior Grade. Whether he had the authority to do this wasn't something I was to know but.... I was here, headed for the showers and, when I returned, would suit up as a Secret Service, Junior Grade.

To break the tension and since I was only wearing my old jock, I dived in the pool and started swimming laps. If nothing else, it gave me time to try and sort out that which was just short of the Gordian knot. Here was this guy whom, I admitted to myself, I could learn to love easily enough, but one who had an agenda for me that....wasn't quite me. Maybe if I loved him enough but I wasn't the sort of man who could be made to endlessly follow another. I wanted and would get my own way in certain issues and this make over might be one of them. I had a stack of clothes I neither needed nor really wanted but they were there to change my image in his mind. Not for him the man in the tuxedo dining with an ambassador. He saw me as soft spoken-which I was to some extent-but soft spoken does not mean lacking in opinion or attitude.

I switched to the back stroke and saw him, jock in hand, about to jump in and, probably pace me. I wasn't going to let it be a race but like my long distance running, he needed to know this was something I knew how to do.

The other side provided me with something I didn't often have, being around a group of guys, horsing around, shooting hoops, shooting the shit. Whether this place provided that, who knew were already a bonded group, something I'd never belonged to and found it was something I wanted With Joe. He was doing the crawl and keeping up nicely. Switched to the breast stroke, the hardest of all the disciplines, noticing Joe had stuck with the crawl which placed him ahead of me but it was the difference in strokes that made the difference.

I pulled myself out at the end, Joe followed, a bit winded, I was good for dozens more laps. One more talent to exhibit. He'd just dragged
onto the coping when I was up and climbing the diving tower. From ten meters, I balanced myself backwards on my toes, did the squat for upward thrust and launched myself into a double back  inward somersault making a pretty good entry, toes pointed first, little splash. Back up to the top and this time did a running summersault, on the board and went in with a simple forward double flip. For whatever reason I almost stuck that landing. Out of the pool and back up. Did a handstand, at the edge of the platform, arms wide apart , up on only my finger tips and then let myself fall from the platform into a double forward with a double twist. When I got down, I padded over to Joe and sat by him. Not a few people had noticed and this was his opportunity to introduce me as...what? His protégé? A friend interested in joining the Secret Service? He went sideways and said he'd noticed some of my abilities and was trying to recruit me. Any of their help would be appreciated.

They were great guys, all handshakes and introductions, everyone saying how great Joe was and I was lucky to have him as my handler. Had I been kitted out? Picked out a weapon? Got my winter boots, it was getting cold outside. Joe said we'd see them at chow and so they departed, a couple clapping their hands in recognition of my performance.

"Forgot to mention those talents, didn't you. That's your concept of clumsy? What else is in you? Ice hockey, Parasailing....."
"Only tennis and Golf. What I'd like in me is you." And looked right at him. His jock almost went sproing as it expanded.
"Shit, that was a dirty trick." He jumped back in the pool and hung on the side. I got down, lay on the tile with my chin on my crossed hands.
"Buddy you're in it now and I do not mean the pool. You'll have to play this out to wherever it leads including calling my parents. They're used to my epic runs but if I don't show up eventually, they'll call the cops  and then it would get messy." He looked at me, knew I was right and....asked for their number. It was a slow walk away to wherever the phone was but if he wanted me, this was something he had to do.

He was gone longer than I expected; The tile grew chilly and I slipped back into the pool doing more of my endless laps. Eventually I saw him come in to the pool area, couldn't tell what his mood was but swam over, got out and we both sat with our legs In the water.

"I spoke with your father, he's a really fine man, wants the best for you and doesn't think what you're doing now is very involving for you. He knows your intelligence that, as he said, doesn't get to show very often". Joining the Secret Service? Same problems I saw, my age, my age and my age. I seemed older, more sophisticated but what he proposed to my father was to give me a sort of summer camp that would last for some little while. "I also spoke to Purr. She recognized my voice and, according to your dad, almost ripped the phone from his hand. "
Other than that, it was just general talk, he wanted to know a bit about me, what you'd be doing with me, just things any parent would ask. He said he'd explain it to his wife who was not going to be pleased......but once you'd been gone a bit, she'd shift into whatever she was doing and the topic would be dropped.
"One last thing, he said if I hurt you, broke your heart, he'd kill me. But he said it in a friendly way."
"Ever the diplomat, the steel fist in the suede glove."

"Want me to interpret that last line? Dad's not one to worry about broken hearts." He was very quiet and pensive. He probably wanted to get back in the water and float away. That wasn't going to happen. Instead he and I headed for the showers, got good and clean and walked back to his Bunkie where he'd piled up my new clothes.

Within seconds, he was lost in the process of turning me into some sort of agent. Had me step into the smaller jock, pulled on a blue T shirt, socks, the sweat pants, tied on the New Balance shoes, hung my dog tags around me (Where had they come from), added a leather case with a place for a badge...... I could see his pride in me, for me....but did he realize how much success depended on other factors? Things about which he could do.....nothing. I was of age so my parents had no legal claim on me but I wasn't the age, I suspicioned, that made me Service material.

"Just needs a gun and some I.D."

With one hand I pushed the door shut turned and spread my legs, put my hands on my waist and tried to demonstrate my body was ready to be changed, molded by him. And then I threw myself at him, tossed him on his bunk and blew him. When I finished he was in tears with, I believe, gratitude knowing I'd accepted him and his life. His arms were around me, his face on my shoulder.

"Now, get dressed for me, let me watch you turn into the man you want me to become."

He had a stupid grin as he did what I'd just done. Obviously he'd had me do it the way he wanted it done. They were simple clothes but he took pride in them for in them he was part of what he loved, the Service.

"Come on, lets go to chow. You may want to go home after eating here. There's no proof to the rumor that we're served what prisoners in Federal lock down get

It was a relatively small room to be an area for eating. One whole side was taken up by a steam table where you served yourself, the rest of the room held six or seven tables for six. When we got there about half the places were taken by men who waved at Joe and indicated there were two spots at their table. He waved back, saying nothing.

After the cuisine of my home, the food here hit me like a rock. A lot of it fried and therefore rendering it impossible to figure out what it was, some vegetables, bread, pats of butter and a selection of beverages that were dispensed through a large steel doored machine. I'll say this, the place was clean.

I got a plate of whatever, Joe helped me unravel what might be under the breading and the frying but at the end, I didn't have a full plate.
"Hey, buddy, eat up, the cooks will think their efforts aren't appreciated." There were some guffaws and "That's the truths" and "Don't kill 'em on the first day" as we took our seats with four other men. Joe immediately introduced me but in a way that gave me the impression, these might be the core of his friends. Pete, from our party, was there, shook hands, said he was glad to see me and promptly launched into a story about me and my "lion". A guy at the next table over leaned his chair back, smiled at me and said, "Hey, Joe, we've already got the handle for this one, 'Diver' ".
"Seems about right, you like it?"
I didn't care, had never had a nickname so this was fine with me.
"Yeah, couldn't be better unless it was 'breast stroke' ". And everybody laughed.
"So diver it is, we've made it official, when reports go in with our codes, they'll now see 'Diver' ",

For someone who had sat down to dinner virtually all of my life with people whose clothing didn't match, this was a new experience. Slight variations, some guys had a hoodie but no T shirt, some guys were in shorts and a hoodie but it all came out Navy Blue with touches of white and, of course, USA on practically everything that was outer wear. Also, these were all men unified by a purpose and hired by the same employer. I'd been on a few "all male" excursions, such as Duck hunting at Bear River in Utah or, my least favorite, deep sea fishing-most of the guys got drunk and I had to go in and pluck one out who couldn't swim. But this was wholly different. I felt I could sit down next to anyone in the room and be accepted, at least until I proved myself unacceptable which can happen in any group. The only thing missing was Purr, I automatically put my hand down to scratch her ears and, of course, no Purr.
"Miss her, don't you?"
"Yes." It was all I could say without tearing up.
"Come on, lets get away from this swill before we're captured and made to reveal the contents." Laughs everywhere.

I vomited on my way back to his/our Bunkie. Made it to the bathroom but seeing that godawful dinner twice did nothing for my mood.
"Sorry..."
"Don't worry, first day, that crap gets everyone. We've all upchucked at the sight of it. Didn't you notice the bags hanging below the steam table?"
Some one came along, asked if "Diver" was okay. Joe just said "the food" and the other guy shook his head knowingly.

Back in the bunkie, I found my toothbrush and toothpaste to remove any sign of what had just been in me. Also, if Joe kissed me, as I hoped he might, I wanted to be fresh not.....
After what had been a hectic day I was tired but decided to find out a few things about this sudden profession such as if I was even eligible. Whatever Joe wanted, we were now on Government time and if there were restrictions then it was best to call a halt now.

It was interesting reading. On the surface, I was close to qualifying but the surface could become a storm surge if worked the wrong way. Joe stripped, got in his bunk and answered questions or made comments as I read on. It was hard picking the ones that I thought would be the most difficult for the Service to accept. I was six months away from being 21 so that was okay, was in pre law at Georgetown which suggested a certain intelligence. Was I volunteering, well, I was 'helped' in that direction. Joe laughed when I mentioned that. No proficiency with guns but who is at my age unless you grew up in a very strange household. And, besides, I had Purr who was her own protection device.

The one that stood out was the one about being "appointed" in addition to volunteering. I knew you received an appointment to the military academies but to be in the Secret Service? Joe said that, officially, yeah, someone in the community was supposed to "sponsor you", asked that you be accepted. He told me he'd been put up by a judge after he grew tired of seeing him in reference to infractions with his car. I casually asked what those might have been and he smirked, said, "Uhm, nothing big just too many of them." I put that question off for another time assuring myself there would be another time.

"Might want to hit your rack, morning comes pretty early. First chow is at six if you're going out on assignment as I am tomorrow and you're spending the day at the gun range learning the basics."

I hoped I wouldn't kill anyone as, I suspected, they used live ammunition and, the last time I'd handled a gun I'd sunk the boat we were in looking for ducks. My father still laughed about it. Closed the book, turned off the light and fucked Joe. He wasn't expecting it but....then he wasn't expect me to do a handstand on the ten meter board either.

"Wish you could sleep with me, but these bunks...."
"I'd have trouble getting Purr in."
"Be prepared for more noise than you're used to, guys come in from assignment, go out on assignment pretty much 24/7. We all try to keep it quiet but....there's a level below it's not possible....." He waited a long time but I knew he had something more to say...."Uh, you know I want to tell you I, well, I....."
And I cut him off. "Maybe you will and maybe you already do but hold that thought until the right time." Before I clambered up top, I pulled his sheet down, kissed his dick and quickly got away before he could grab hold of me.

Didn't take me more than one day to discover we were polar opposites in the morning. The moment my eyes flapped open I was ready for business. The moment his eyes flapped open, he groaned and they closed. I opened the door and saw one of the guys in just his boxers carrying two mugs of coffee so I asked where I could do the same. He laughed and said to get three mugs, one to pour on Joe and the other two for drinking. I gave him the high sign, put on some socks and shorts and headed out. Turned out you could get a carafe and some mugs so that's what I did. Holding one of the steaming mugs under his nose brought signs of life. Parts of his eyes opened, he reached out for the coffee and said, "Jesus, you're wonderful. I'd keep you if only for this."

I'd found a sheet under our door on my way to get the coffee but hadn't read it. Turned out to be our assignments for the day. Diver, that being me, was to muster at the firing range at eight and Otter, I guessed that was Joe, simply had OA-See G beyond his name. He was starting on his second cup when I asked about "Otter".
"Oh, sweet Jesus Sandy, not this early in the morning. And to you I'm Joe. I can tell already you think and then ask questions which is great, just not in the very early morning. But keep up this sort of room service and I'll see to it that you get a big tip."
He looked almost like a little boy who didn't want to go to school. Perched on his bunk, both hand clutching the coffee...
"Jesus, kid, don't you drink coffee? You'll learn to."
I stood up, walked to him and grabbed his dick and gave it a real yank. "Listen to me, I am not a 'kid' nor am I a 'dude' call me by either of those and you won't like the consequences." I turned loose, leaned over and gave him a kiss.

It was quiet in the bunkie, Joe was massaging  the base of his dick where the real pressure had been and I was reading. I left it to him to break the silence. "Sandy, I didn't realize...."
"I know you didn't which is why I put a stop to it right then. Of course I'm sorry I hurt you, wouldn't do that unintentionally" and gave him a wicked smile "for anything."
He got up, put his arms around me and kissed the back of my neck. "Any man who brings me coffee, more than one cup, is a man I'm going to keep and is no kid.....Fuck, time to start the day . I gotta get shaved and put on my street clothes, being out in the field...." he remembered something..."fuck it, I didn't get you cold weather gear and if you're going to be outdoors all day, you'll need more than sweats and sneakers." He thought trying to do...something, "Look, I'll tell someone as I go out what you'll need and probably they'll have it at the range."

Carrying his kit with razor and such he wandered off to the shower and bathroom still carrying his cup of coffee. While his bed was still warm and smelling of Joe I got back in it and, to my surprise drifted off to sleep.


Not much later, I felt a smack on my butt and kiss on my cheek. Joe was standing there looking handsome in a good suit, nice tie, well shined shoes, nothing Secret Service about him. I'd occasionally heard about "cop shoes" but what he was wearing was far from that. Looked like Cole Haan or Bally of Switzerland. He was carrying a fairly large duffel back and had a rain coat slung over his shoulder. He was going away and that's all I could know.
"Throw something on, doesn't matter what and I'll take you to the dining room where you can get some breakfast, often rumored to be the best meal, or at least most edible, of the day; Step on it, I need to be someplace in five." All we had time for was a hug and a kiss before he walked me to the dining room. And walked on.  I saw Pete so, after I'd got a plate full of food I half way recognized, joined him.
"Thought you'd be off with Joe?"
"He's on private assignment." And that was all he was going to say about that. "What they got you up for today?"
"I go to the gun range....." Bill slapped his hand on the table so hard it made the coffee in several mugs almost jump out. "Hey, guys, Diver goes to Elms today." There was laughter and someone said that my vocabulary was about to be increased but that Elms was a helluva guy, just do what he tells you and it all will come right.
Pete told me where to get a card that would let me in and out as well as temporary ID. Suggested I be at the pickup station out front about ten minutes to eight and he'd be real interested to hear about my first day.


I found the window through which I got my access code and plastic card. Also, a picture was taken, added to a card with my name put on a chain and told to hang it around my neck so it was visible at all times.
Outside it was chillier than I'd thought and even in my sweats, and with the hoodie up and a watch cap under that, it was cold. The wind was no help either.

A pickup truck pulled up, the guy driving it yelled, "Diver?" and I jumped in. "I'm Karl, with a K. I'll take you to and from wherever you need to go. To be formal, show me your tag. Okay, Do not, I repeat, Do NOT get in any vehicle that I'm not driving. Okay? Got that.?" Then he seemed to relax. "It's quite a little drive so get comfortable. The time you get on your assignment sheet is the pick up time, depending on transit time, weather and how pissed off I am at everyone, that's when you'll get there. Elms can rip 'em off and fry 'em if you or whoever isn't there when he wants them. When he's through with you, I'll be there, count on it. Got all that?"
"Yes, Sir" And we drove on.

It was close to an hour when we rounded a bend that was at the bottom of a hill and there was the gun range. Or that's what it must have been. Targets were set up, there was a kind of shed plus another metal building. Karl sounded the horn. "Christ that old man....."
Out of the metal house came a man holding some gun cases and looking dragons at Karl. He didn't wait to get to the truck to open his mouth......
"Listen you motherfucking baby raping blue balled sonof a bitch, where you the fuck been? I got a man to teach how to fuckin shoot a gun and yer takin him on a mother fucking guide of the county." Karl just sat there, looking forward, a finger on each hand tapping the steering wheel. "Cunt, do you want him or should I just turn around and head back?"
"Want him? You mutherfucker, a course I want him, that's why I'm the fuck here for you cocksucker. Lay that jalopy on its side, so its balls can breathe and he'll drop out, cocksucker."
I didn't need and encouragement. "Thanks, Karl, I guess I'll see you when I need you." He gave me a half salute, spit at the man, and put it in reverse throwing dirt all over my instructor who only bothered to give him two fingers.

"Sir I'm Sandy.....
"I know who the fuck you are, son. Yer here how to use a gun and I'm Elms, the cocksucker who's gonna teach you." He paused and looked at me. " Son, is that what those cunt heads put you in to come out here? Where the crap do they think we are? Fuckin sand on fucking Miami beach?"
"Sir, this was the warmest clothing I had, sorry that it's.."
"Don't heed to be sorry, not one fucking bit. Some shit head down there issued you standard shit, not stuff to shoot in. Why, son, I keep you on the ground for two hours and your nuts 'd fall off. Come on in, get something warm. 'Spose you drink coffee, they all do."
I had to tell him I didn't drink coffee and, before shooting, I'd worry that the caffeine in it would interfere with my aim. He looked stunned.
"No body, no fucking body has ever realized what you just said. Those are pearls, son, pearls of wisdom and I'm going to make you the best shot I ever turned out."

A statement I questioned but did noticed he'd quit swearing.
"Son, tell me a bit about yourself, you must come from nice people, city folk I imagine". And so I did which went well until I got to Purr. I was puddling when I explained how she'd come to be my cat, she was from Africa and my best friend. I knew it I was going to say it and I hated myself but....."I don't have a lot of friends. Very few. I live in my parents world, golf, cards, tennis, entertaining...and I go to University but....Purr is always with me or someone in the whole family. She's alone now and she'll be alright, got lots of people around her but...."
"Ya can't help but think she misses you and you miss her. Right?"
"That's about it. They took everything away, I don't even have a picture of her....but if you go back a couple of months, there's a picture of her and the Ambassador on the front page. They like each other and she was invited to the embassy." I looked up at the beautiful golden sky and thought, her eyes are about that color.

Elms sat beside me, put an arm around my shoulder and somehow I felt better. "Ya know, Sandy, you're a right smart kid and a good man. I can tell 'cause I get a lot up here who should be shot and not learn to shoot." I had to laugh, I knew what he meant but in a different context.
"First thing, come inside and we'll get you fixed up." We went into the metal shed which was deceptive in that it was a lot longer than it looked and made a T at the end for more space. Elms stopped and looked at me. "Son, do you know how to take a gun apart?"
"No, sir I don't but before you shoot one, it seems a good idea to know what makes it fire. If you don't know what's inside, you can't predict what's outside."
He laughed so hard I wondered what I'd said. "Son, never, ever been one like you. Here, look at these while I look around."
It was a tray full of nuts and nails. For no reason I started arranging them by category and size. Elms came back with a good looking leather coat and some leather pants that had some heavy leather patches on the front. Elms looked at the tray full of nuts and nails.
There was a strange look on his face. "Son, I hoped that's just what you'd do. You didn't waste time, you didn't know if there was any reason but you logicked that if they were arranged, somebody might find them easier to use and you're right."
He stared at the tray and, almost to himself said, "I cannot fucking believe it."

Elms came back from his reverie over my skill at arranging and told me to strip naked. I'd done that so often clothes just fell off me as if they wanted to be on the floor.

"Okay, here's some heavy, wool boot socks and...where the fuck is that. Oh, over there. Now this is going to seem odd but everything has a reason." Gave me an inch wide strip of tanned leather. "Tie it loosely around you, bout an inch from the top of your cock. This goes over and under and over the strip, makes a loin cloth. Injuns wore 'em cause they knew the good of 'em. Now, pull on those pants, that's chewed deer skin, won't shrink, get caught in brambles and are warm, that inside is just like fur." It was, too. The loin cloth had me puzzled but I knew I'd figure it out or be told why.

"The pants go just above the leather strip and, here, work this through the loops, you can also reach down and grab the loin cloth at the sides so its like one garment." It took a while to get what he wanted done. but when we were finished, you could see and feel the whole purpose. Buckskin shirt, almost bullet proof and over that, this buffalo coat. You can pull the inside out and make something to sleep in. Yer cum will help your loin cloth so just let 'er fly when yer there. Nothing like cowboy boots, Indians never figured out how to make hard soles so here's  a pair for you. Don't shine 'em wax 'em with a soft paste wax and work it in. Ten years you'll still be wearing them and theys gonna look better then. Better for the boot. You aint goin to no Rodeo.. There was no mirror so I just assumed this was what he wanted.

"Okay, now that we've got it my way, we're gonna do it their way, but we'll get to that." He hauled out what looked like chaps but weren't.
They looked more like tubes of leather with some strings connecting the two.
"Take everything off but the loin cloth. We're going to be working in here today so no need to be covered up." He shucked off most of what he had on revealing a heavily tattooed body. He looked at me and kind of laughed. Even his loin cloth, just like mine, had designs on it, not tattooed but worked in somehow.

"Here, pull this leg up, yeah, that's right and it attaches to the loin cloth strap in three places. Same with the other one". After that I was wearing nothing and yet was completely covered. He turned a door and there was a mirror Had to admit, with my bare chest, those swimmers muscles and the deep V that went to my pubic bone, I looked, well hot. To my embarrassment, I was getting turned on, my cock was getting hard.

"Okay son, let it happen, don't need to touch it, just let it stream out and, when you take it off, work your sperm into the leather. Take it you like it, huh?"
It was quietly said but he caught it....."I've never felt like this in my life. I'm a hot looking man."
"Wait till we get you firing on twelve chambers or maybe drawing  a bow wearing just what you've got on, that will be the ultimate male."
He touched one of his many tattoos...."Not for you, not ever. Well, maybe one on your cock but that's a long time in the future. Now, lets get to work." Work to him was guns and Indians. Can't explain it but the two interrelated.


He pulled out another drawer that was filled with disparate parts that, I could see, would produce a gun if assembled. He told me to take off the socks and learn to toughen my feet. There was a stool, one light over head and the disassembled gun. He patted the seat and my task was clear.

To the annoyance of many, I am a logical person who, on occasion, can drive people crazy while I stare at something preparatory to doing whatever is needed. My mother was stunned the first time I fixed the washing machine if only because I took it completely apart before reassembly.  I crossed my arms on the edge of the table and then, after a time, how long I did not know, began to move pieces around until you saw the sketchy outline, almost a cartoon, of a gun. My leggings against the legs of the stool were beginning to bother so, being careful not to undo  the loin cloth, removed them. Why did that feel better? I was pressing pieces of the gun to my breast, somehow absorbing the shape and letting it lead me to something that went in it, around it, on it.. I didn't realize it but my semen had steadily flowed out without my even feeling the usual desire to jerk off.

I took off the loincloth and laid it carefully on the table. As I studied my outline of a gun, I held the cloth between by two thumbs and fore fingers and worked my ejection into the amazing fabric. I could see where my cock and balls had made an indentation that I knew was where they'd always be when I wore this. Only twice did I taste myself and that was as much to get moisture as it was to sample what a man can produce.

Now, naked, on the stool, the gun was flowing together as I flowed out  of my stalk. There was one final 'click' and I rested my hands, palms up on my thighs and lowered my head. There was a long pause until Elms came to me and picked up the gun, handled it as if it were a new born babe,

He turned out the light, helped  me from the stool and took me out of the metal house to the shack to a place where I could lay in furs and rest. I was not cold although my muscles had been so completely involved, all of them, that trying to loosen them was proving impossible. When it was obvious that I was in pain, could not give in to more work, Elms lifted me, carried me around one corner of the shack and let me slide into water that was at once noxious and then soothing. Taking a piece of leather, he ran that under my chin and tied the ends to the tank and turned a valve. Shortly I could feel the whirring of the water as my body sank into it. Only part of my lips and all of my nose were exposed. I alternated floated and sank, made no difference. I could feel the cold steel of the parts in my hands almost as if I'd memorized the gun would know it anywhere, assembled or unassembled.

It was the experience you hear about, the movement through time and space to find....something.


How much later was it when Elms gently took me from what he called the grave of the spirit. I was told I was too weak to walk and so we went to a place where the robes of fur were. He laid me there, lit a small fire, that smelled good, across from me, pressed me back and I slept again.

It was a nice day, a much warmer day and I was laying, almost as if I were staked out in the full sun. I raised my head and could see most of my body covered in oil and though I thought of it, I stayed just as I was for there was a purpose. Someone had turned me over, still spread eagled but now facing down, my loin cloth, heavily scented with me protected my face from the soil. I could no longer discern time other than like and dark. I didn't try to remember, only that Karl said when he was needed, he would be there.

Elms is in front of me with a wooden bowl and spoon. It's not a taste I know but after what I've seen served, this is very good. His naked body covered with old ink looked like where one went to find something. I put my hand out to touch one, then another. Putting down the bowl, he moved my hand and explained the meaning, if there was one, to various pieces. When he'd finished the very cursory tour, he took up the bowl and spoon and fed me some more. I had an urge to run and told him. He smiled and said that in the morning, I should but it was night and too cold. Morning in the sun would be best. And fed me more soup. I felt stronger, as if I wanted to wrestle naked on the ground with someone, told him that. He smiled and said that was good but to remember to fight without a reason, preferably to protect yourself isn't always a good idea. Every man should find a way to disperse his anger and his temper. Many do not but those who do become stronger.

Oddly, I thought about my father who never displayed an inappropriate mood. I'd seen him angry but then he retreated to someplace,  I never quite knew where and when he returned was as placid as he always had been. What about Joe? I was looking at a man who might be able to tell me but to ask was to reveal too much. Strange, I didn't care but it could hurt Joe, cost him his career.

I haven't asked permission to sleep since....a very long time ago but I felt a compulsion to ask Elms. He smiled, said it was a good idea and settled me in the furs, making sure I was well wrapped. The room grew dark and I was off to sleep.

Being naked in the morning and knowing that you'll stay that way for the rest of the day is a good feeling. I was facing the sun, getting ready to run to nowhere in particular. Behind me, Elms was insisting that I put some simple food in me, some liquid, nothing heavy. Whatever he offered me I took, finished it and stood at the entrance to the shack ready to run.Did some stretching exercises, some work on the chin up bars and, the most fun, the giant swing. He insisted I wear my running shoes as no track is safe from a sharpened stone or such. He was right but shoes spoiled the idea of being naked. As he oiled me he showed me the path that would offer endless running but could get me back. It was ingenious in that it consisted of a shape much like a frying pan; The handle, after a mile or two, split into two parts which led to the edge of the pan. from there you could run around it, probably two or three miles, or there were paths to the interior and back to the main circle. At a moment when you came to the way to the handle you took it and were back.

Shining in the sun, I went off down the path with no thought just that I had to run.

If I judged by the sun, I'd probably run for six hours when I turned off and headed back to the gun area. Elms was there as if he knew the precise moment I'd arrive and hustled me into the water, the leather strap holding my chin so I wouldn't drown. The water, just before I went to sleep in it, made me wonder what it was. I could ask.

Elms fed me, although I could easily have done so myself. He'd examined me to make sure that I'd done no damage and, of course, I hadn't. Then it was learning time. My stool stood waiting but there was a new method; I would do it blindfolded. I remembered everything I'd touched, after arranging them in the pattern, putting it together took less than half an hour. Next, and still blindfolded, another gun, one I'd not worked with. The logic here is all guns have the same purpose and while there are variations, once you've isolated them, it's just a matter of discovering the new parts that didn't exist on the previous test but also discovering what parts were not there that had been on the first gun. I had it done in an hour. It was only then that I discovered I'd produced a constant river of sperm with no knowledge of doing it. My excitement had been channeled into the work and this base internal feeling went unnoticed. Elms was pleased.

He also had something for me that, he said, may disgust me at first. He'd been collecting my sperm, keeping it warm and it was ready for me to drink. I held out my hand, took the glass, drained the viscous, tasteless fluid and returned the glass to him. He could see the pride in me. I had been able to, over some days, remake myself into the settled, concentrated, practical, sexual, man the Service wanted. But now, even though I could assemble and disassemble them, it was time to see if I could shoot them.

I had to master twenty different types of guns from hand held pistols to automatic weapons that were used in war. I had to be able to not only shoot them, but have some mastery of hitting a target and, after the first few hours, not large, concentric circles. It was dark again....how long had I been there? Did anyone wonder where I was, what I was doing? Did Joe miss me or had he not come back. And, as always, Purr and my Dad


The days Elms had worked me in different disciplines to the normal had produced a man who could calmly take a gun, aim it and shoot to kill. That was his basic thesis, whenever you shoot, it is to kill, that's why guns exist, to kill. He understood that seldom, maybe never would I have to do that but not being afraid to do it made me a better shot, I was, after all, defending my life. We started standing with a hand gun and a target 25 yards away. First was a standard revolver, then a clip and then we moved back 25 yards and repeated. This round I shot more rounds at a slightly smaller target.  Back to 75 yards and the same drill only, again, more rounds. Time to switch to rifles, first single shot and on down the line. What I was shooting became almost unimportant, it was how I was shooting it, could I feel it, could the sighting from gun to gun prove to be a handicap? After several hours, and when it was almost dark, Elms called it off and back to the shack, soup and some conversation about me. He had questions and, though they seemed odd, I answered them. I had been naked all day, had that bothered me? No. If I were taken prisoner was I confident in ability to find a way out. My answer there was something of an evasion. While I believed I might be, as lessons went on I became more sure of myself and what I could do. In other words, ask  me again in ten days, ten weeks, ten years. All the answers will vary but the core will be the same; Yes I can.

As he did each night, he rolled me in my fur and made sure the room was dark apart from the light from the sky that came in the window.

There came a morning when we were standing at the opening, Elms with his coffee and me with a cup of coffee so heavily laced with cream and sugar that a turn in a freezer would produce ice cream. Generally, I didn't drink coffee but it was a cool morning and this was a warm drink. Also, as had become the norm, I wasn't wearing anything. Elms liked to show his ink but usually had on a loin cloth, probably a sign of superiority to me.

"Weather's gonna change on us, quick, dirty and fast. Gotta get one more thing outdoors for you to learn and today's probly gonna be the last day. Son, this is a cold one and nothin I can do. Let's just get 'er done.

I put on my loin cloth-Elms said he didn't want anything getting curious about my dick-and we set off, both of us pulling wagons filled with weapons and ammo. Quite close to the shack was a stock pond of some sort though I'd never seen any stock. We pulled up, parked our butts on the ground and he explained the exercise.

I was to walk into the pond until water covered my lower lip and stand. At some point, he'd make a noise, which I'd have to locate, turn, stick my arms up, grab whatever weapon he'd throw and shoot the target which would become obvious. With Elms you didn't get to practice because his directions were simple and obvious. I started into the water, which was cold- wearing my loin cloth, my cock and balls pulled up in me leaving the leather just tied around me. When I reached the depth required, it was surprising how I could use the still water to expand my peripheral vision. My eyes were close enough to the surface the surface was so calm that it was like a mirror which gave me probably over 220 degrees of vision.

Eventually I moved out to a point where I had to tread water to stay afloat, still catch a gun, fire and return it. I was a strong swimmer but, after a certain period of time, my butt, my calves and thighs were starting up to the pain threshold.

A noise, I turned toward where I thought it was and a hand gun came right at me. In the water I could suddenly see movement, knew that was the target, aimed and shot. Threw the gun back to Elms and waited for the next one. A revolver, two more hand guns, a rifle, shotgun........right on up to the heaviest of what we used, a P-90or our version of it. That one I carried out of the water as I'd been told the last gun would have only one round chambered. After I'd shot it, came back to shore.

By now, my body, while not really accustomed to the cold water, was accepting it. Certainly the activity both mental and physical had helped sustain my core. Asked Elms if I could swim for a few minutes, just to get the exercise and loosen my limbs. He agreed and I started on my laps as I'd always done. That's when a shot came within two inches of my head. Automatically I went under, thought about it, rose up and a gun was thrown to me. Found the target and unloaded all nineteen rounds in the clip. The twentieth had been my alert.

Elms had a tight smile when I came up the bank. "Those instincts will save your life and maybe some others as well." I could almost sense pride. From the wagons he pulled two blankets, tossed one to me and kept one for himself for the short trip back to the shack. He got in the tank with me and let our bodies warm up which took more than a few minutes.
"Son, you did it, just like I knew you would. Theys some other things but...the weather is gonna get us but there's still some range work and tracking-don't normally teach guys that-and then".....he paused a long time...."It'll be time to have you wrapped up, call UPKarl and tell the shit head he has a pick up."

I was silent, thinking about what I was going to say next. "Sir, Thank You for finding the man and the manhood in me." I looked at him, didn't smile, didn't offer my hand just let the words bounce back and forth between us. He never responded, just stood up, had me stand up and embraced me.
"Son, I did only a little part of it. Your Pa, who must be a helluva a man, did a lot, some other men I don't know about and that cat of yours. Purr."
"Now, do what a man does after a long, very hard day, get naked, lay down, jack yourself off as many times as you want and I'll see what I can dig up for dinner."
It was four and I did as I'd been taught, wasted no protein so I ate every speck that came out. Then stretched that hard stretch-the one I probably learned from Purr-and was immediately asleep.

It was late and it was dark when Elms shook me with an urgency I didn't yet understand. "Son, come on, I guessed wrong, the weather's here and we gotta get sealed in." Instantly I was on my feet, waiting to be told what to do.
Elms pulled out a stack of  thick folded leather then as they were unfolded, ran a large tooth needle through the holes and attached it to the side walls of the shack. He tossed me another skin and pointed at the other side. With the tooth needle and the thong being drawn through, I got my side up then went back to help him with the upper parts which was a two man job. Finally, the last curtain was down and overlapped the opposing curtain by a good two feet. They, two, had holes to be sewed together with leather and, that finished, it was amazing how little weather came in. My head was racing from looking up and I needed to sit. Elms plunked down by me.

"Son that ability to do what you're showed how to do is priceless. Today, without you, I'd get it done but in four times that it took. You're quick and smart and realize what needs to be done. Someday you'll give an order and need to have it complied  exactly. You'll need to know that the person to whom you gave it can be trusted to do it. Some shit heads will think that there's another way and try that and probably fuck up the whole process. I can't tell you to shoot him but you'll be tempted."

He felt the skins which were now going in and out like lungs. "Yep we got ahead of it, but just. Time for my buddy to go back to sleep, no reason to wake up. Tell you what, take out your cock and jack yourself off as many times as you can again, make that a ritual. Nothing hurried or fast, just a nice slow up and down until your river runs and then keep going. Enjoy the feeling you'll get when it wants to quit but you don't and then it'll get the idea and you're back in business. Apart from fucking women to make babies, that's put there for a man to pleasure himself. And he's a fool if he doesn't. So lay back, take hold of the handle and give yourself pleasure. Go as many times as you want....or can. Enjoy yourself, most men don't and that's what leads to frustration." It was surprising information or direction from someone who often gave surprising directions. I leaned back,  gently wrapped my hand about my slowly stiffening member and went from there.

Hours later Elms was by me, mug of something warm and good smelling. "How many'd you get pumped out? Looked like at least three or more to me."
"Maybe four but I think I did the last one in my sleep."
"Yep, guys do that and then find some piss ant excuse as to what happened. Glad you enjoyed yourself." He squatted down in a way that reminded me of Motorcycle cops do when off their bikes and looking at something on the ground. His loin cloth was full and partially stiff. The beverage-I don't know what else to call it-was, as always-delicious. At some point it occurred to me that I hadn't seen or tasted a carbohydrate as long as I'd been there. I also noticed that without much effort, I was beginning to sprout a  serious six pack although, apart from using the chin up bars and some other things, I'd really not done serious, directed exercise.

"Like that? I put some of you in it. When you'd come, I siphoned it off and it's in your soup. Nothing but protein, I do it with mine all the time."
"Shame you couldn't get more...." He laughed. "Donations are always appreciated.
Well since we really and truly have an indoor day, what are we going to do with it? "
"Teach me something."
"Son I do that without your looking but lets, yeah, that's on the money. There's something I've wanted to do before you go back to the cement fraternity. Might has well do it today. Let me get some things together, you finish that and we'll be about ready."

What was there to do but wait and....based on something he'd done, had an idea of my own.

"Okay, put your butt on your stool, nothing to assemble to day, just sit still, this will only take a little while."
"I heard the whirr of clippers then felt them on my skull. Whatever it was going to be, short was the operative word. I didn't even look down but figured there had to be quite pile as it had been, easily, months since I'd had my hair cut. Going to school was no reason and so until I was told to-read my mother-I just ignored it.

"That's the first layer.....you got a good looking skull, not every man does. Some tribesman would be happy to have that dried and hanging from his hut. If they got your cock and nuts, so much the better." He laughed.

There was a pause while he got a bowl of warm water, washed my scalp, then began to work up a good shaving foam in a cup with a brush. Stropped the straight razor, hung it from the edge of the bowl, lathered part of my head, picked up the razor and went to work. I've always admired a man who could shave with a straight razor; I don't know that I couldn't but I'd seen too many flecks of toilet paper on guys who were learning how.

Finally, he went back over all of it with a warm, wet towel then a very cold one-easy on a day like today. Then came the mirror.

I'd seen Mohawks on guys and really had no opinion. The ones that were starched up, colored and arranged in some sort of shape were beyond the pale. What I had was a shaved head with a swath about an inch or so wide and only a quarter inch tall. Unless you were very close, given the color of my hair, it almost looked as if I had a shaved head. Almost. Oddly, I liked it and told him so.

"Thought you would. No matter what they try and make you do, which will be grow it out, keep it like that for a while."
A thought  came to me. "Elms, it wouldn't be the same if you didn't cut it."
"Yeah, well I'll give you the name of a buddy who can and will cut it like I do. Maybe better." That seemed unlikely.

The wind was stronger and you could hear the sleet, hail, ice, snow. "Anything to be done outdoors?"
"Yeah, get pneumonia. We're indoor people to day. Go do push ups since you've got all that energy, one handed or on your finger tips, the Marine way. you look like one them fucking jar heads."

Did all that and some other things for a time, there were no clocks and I hadn't a clue where my watch was and didn't care. Jumped in the tank and let it clean me. Although Elms had never explained the contents, he'd said it was a sort of all in one, didn't even need to rinse it off. Laying in it, careful to put on the leather strap that kept me from drowning, time slipped by and I slept. Anymore I imagined that I was in Indian regalia, only wearing my loin cloth but painted in war paint. Some sort of moccasins that went to my knees and a bow circling my body. Sometimes the dream was static but today, I was a prisoner of some tribe somewhere. They were going to kill me, eat my flesh and dry my bones. The chief, or whatever he was, came up with a very thin, very long knife and carefully cut off my scrotum and then my penis. Holding them up, there was a cheer then he ran the knife through my throat and I began to bleed to death. Before I was gone, my innards were pulled out and the butchering had begun.

Later, I told Elms he was interfering with my dreams and told him about it. Laughing, he just said when it happened for real he wanted to be hanging beside me. There was something serious about the way he said it that made me think that maybe Elms was a man who could not reveal himself.

We were sitting on the fur rugs, comfortable, warm but with nothing really to do. Elms looked at me, put his hand on my shoulder and asked about some further, more personal details of my life. Did I have a girl friend? No. Did I have a boy friend....I wasn't sure. That stopped him. I was on the verge of telling him about Joe but was concerned that it would wreck his career and maybe his personal life. whenever I got in these mental traps I tended to become quiet, wait for the next question.
"Son, it's all right nothing, and I mean this, nothing you could tell me could shock me or make me think less of you. Now, lets start with how you met him......"

And with that, the whole stupid story, the party, the note in my jacket, my being out running.
:"Shit, now I get it and why not before now.....son, I'm sorry that you got into this mess because some other people got caught off guard something they don't like. When Joe brought you in, he fully expected there to be some trouble but not much. You had all the requisite details but they weren't going to have a stranger brought in. Up to that point, you were going out the door on day two. But then, it was you wasn't it, did the diving crap and that turned a key in a lock. Too many people saw it and explaining why you were mustered out after only a day or two wouldn't have set well with the troops. So they decided to let me do their dirty work. No way in hell a kid with your background could come out here and last more than a few days. I had some doubts myself but it didn't take long to realize you could do it and would do it. I've kept you here, really in amazement to see how far I could take you and we're not really done yet. I'm going to send you back as my kick to their nuts."

I was sort of puzzled, all this was a long way from the way I understood things and couldn't decide, even with Elms explanation, why I was disliked. Was it Joe they were trying to get rid of? Who knew what. Elms pulled me to him, put my head on his chest and an arm around me. We just sat there and I snuggled closer. "I wish I could suckle you....."

I said it quietly but I said it. "Sir, could I suck your cock? I'm pretty good at it."
"No, but we can suck each other. I'd like that. Ever go to sleep with a mans cock in your mouth?"
"No....but it would be an honor if it belonged to you. And, might as well, go all the way, if you'd like to fuck me....you're welcome. Fact is, I'd like it, a man's cock when I can control it in me, it's great."
"Son, we have a long night ahead.  It's going to be a pleasure for both of us. Good thing we don't have to get undressed."

It was the first time he kissed me. Easily at first but growing in intensity. Our hands started to grab each other, work for dominance. We needed to do this to initiate sex between us. This wasn't to settle a score this was the way we were going to excite ourselves. Each of us had the other man's cock in his hand but the rolling and pressure continued. No one would give and no matter the pain, it didn't matter. The pain came first and then...the joy of man sex. Naked, almost back to a time when men fought for anything, this time we were fighting for each other. No sound, no words just the scuffle and then it was over. Both on our backs, still clutching the whole genital package of the other.

"Is this where we're hanging and the chief comes along to cut off our manhood and then let us slowly die?"
"That's one way. How about facing guillotines, first the cocks, then the balls then arms, legs...."
"We could build a guillotine for two men, facing each other, each having a hand on the pull knob that drops the blade."
"Sound like a project."

We were both so aroused that we were shaking. It was all we could do to move toward one another, take the other's cock in his mouth and begin the excision of their maleness into each other's mouth. It would take a long time and we went several times, each time suffering in the agony of a cock ready to quit but being forced onward.

"Later, more later. lets hop in the water and sit there for a spell. Sandy, you are one man I'd like to take on every day."
"Well, keep me here and you can. We can have each other, do to each other whenever and whatever....I can guess there are some things you'd like to do to me, to force the image of you. What would you do...?"
It was hard for us to talk with the leather restraint that kept us from drowning.
He just smiled, closed his eyes and found my nuts with his toes......and we both slept.


A strange sound, that of a vehicle on the road leading to the range. I was up so quietly stuck a snub nose in my loin cloth and got behind Elms who was casually holding a shot gun. I could feel him relax. "Hey, these are friends. Hope I made enough coffee."
Two guys in long coats came up, hands out, smiles. The usual, "Elms you old cocksucker etc." They did the dance of recognition for about two minutes and then he presented me to them. Aaron and Sol. They shook my hand but I could tell they were trying to do telepathic palm reading.

"This is the one. He can shoot shot gun shells out his cock-shame he isn't double barreled." They laughed and I just stood moderately at attention but relaxed. Coffee was handed round and I got my usual with cream (two kinds) sugar and just incidentally coffee. Lots of talk, bullshit, local gossip, political talk, but this had a cloture to it. Elms beat them to the punch.
"Guess you'd like to see what he can do, lets gather up some things and head for the range."\

It was as the first time I'd done it. Shot, throw the piece back, take another throw, shoot and so forth. Back at the hundred yard point I did some fancy work with a choked down shot gun and, of course, the P-90. There were looks of real approval and requests that I fire this gun or that from various positions. Elms told them about doing it the stock pond including the one where I was just swimming, got shot at, ducked, came up, caught the pistol and squeezed off 19 rounds into three targets.

It was Sol. "Now that is something I'd like to see. Too cold now."
"Sir, if you'd like to see it, Elms and I can set it up." Somewhere in my mind there was a old, grainy picture of a woman getting ready to swim the English Channel. She was covered in grease of some sort and, as I remembered, she made it or almost made it.
"Sir, we still got that tub of animal fat?"
Elms was on it immediately, knew my idea but didn't do much save shift his weight from one foot to the other. "Aaah, might be, Sandy, have to go look and if there is, gentleman you'll get to see what I described.
They tried, and it was genuine, to say the weather, the cold, his word was good....but Elms and I went right on with the plan.

An hour later we were at the stock pond, there was substantial ice, even at the edge. Elms was greasing me up. I was wearing only my loin cloth into which Elms stuck an enormous amount of grease around my testicles and penis. Made me look as if I was carrying bazooka shells.

"Okay, Sirs, any special way you'd like to set this up? Depth of dive, distance? caliber?"
Elms was quiet and direct, "Son get in the water and we'll take care of the rest."

The ice at the edge broke easily and I knew the deeper I could go, the warmer the water would be. At least comparatively. What I didn't do was swim laps but a nonsensical pattern punctuated with d\
eep dives in which I'd go in one place and pop up another close to a minute later. The ice was hard here and there and I could understand why and how penguins slid across in on their bellies. Why not try? It was hard to stealthily get up on the ice and then slide across it like a seal looking for a hole. Just as I was about to go under, a shot actually grazed my cheek so I rolled on my back, caught the rifle, found the target, shot and tossed it back as I disappeared under the ice. This time, I thought, lets put the fear of God in them.

\
A fellow student was from Iceland who had taught me a lot about water as I was in it so much. Bjorn was the water man par excellence and I was anxious to accept his invitation to Kayak from Iceland to Greenland. Much talk and I learned a lot about water and ice-both very common near and around Iceland. And it was something he'd taught me, in case of an emergency that I now used. Back under the more frozen part of the pond where my body could not be seen through the ice, I put my nose right up against the ice and, as Bjorn had said, there was almost a half inch of air.

Later I was told that everyone went crazy, looked for a boat, everyone but Elms who, while, as he said, internally, his colon clamped shut, I knew I had to wait. They said it was ten minutes, maybe more and then I coasted to the surface, just barely showing the front of my face and continued to swim. Whoever threw the gun was so rattled that they forgot to shoot and damn near hit me. That did it for Elms who hollered at me to come in.

I had my hand shaken, my back pummeled, my hand shaken some more...till Elms suggested we might go back inside and let me warm up; He was concerned about my core temperature and I wanted the grease off me. There was the slight matter of my getting shot and Aaron, with a hung head, confessed he'd pulled the trigger. I looked at him, smiled and said, "You know, we aren't trained to miss...." Laughter all around, he almost gave me a hug but the grease on me put him off.

Slid into the tub not bothering to strap my chin up; I wanted all that shit off me and now. Finally did attach my self, untied my loin cloth and hope the fat would come out of it. Elms had been right about that, my genitals, though chilly, were still clearly functional as I found out when I slowly jacked off. Sol and Aaron came back as I was doing that and I offered no explanation other than to say it was relaxing. If they had questions, they forgot them and went back to Elms. A moment or so later I heard their truck leave and Elms almost on the dead run came to see how I was.

I looked at him as seriously as I knew how. "One thing, up front, I want people to know you taught me that trick. I want you to get some of the real appreciation for what you've done, not just for me, but lots of other guys. Probably saved some lives. The other thing is.....that's not a stunt, I'm not going to do it for anyone who is just curious. If there is a real reason and someone needs to do it in the real world, then I'm your man but I'm not circus act."

My vehemence got to me and I passed out.

When I managed to rally I was, per usual, in my furry blankets, warm, the little fire going and the devil on Elm's left butt cheek back to
me making.....something, probably to eat.
He brought me a glass that contained the old usual, my sperm but diluted with something, smelled and tasted like Brandy. "That'll cheer me up. And, hate to ask but is there a mug or a bowl of your man soup?" He smiled, turned around and just as the first time however long ago, he squatted in front of me, a wooden spoon in one hand and the wooden bowl in the other. "Fresh from the cow. I threw in some other stuff as well." He spooned it into me slowly, carefully and occasionally using a watch I'd never seen, took my pulse. Finally sat down, his knees up, the bowl, empty on the other side of him.

"Joe doesn't deserve you, maybe the only creature that does is Purr but....she's not around and the service isn't looking for her sorts of skill. I'm going to have a talk with that young man, next time I see him, point out if he hurts you or break your heart....."
"Skip it, he's already heard that speech from my father."

"I'd like to get the two of you and Purr up here for a week or two, I bet we'd all enjoy it." I tried to switch Dad's evening clothes for a loin cloth and just couldn't quite do it. But would he enjoy it? Would he like Elms? Hell yes, the two of them would be instant buddies, both proud of me but finding in their own generation commonality that I couldn't have. I still was a little woozy from the day and the longer I thought about my father, in a loin cloth, a Mohawk haircut, war paint and.....I was out again.

"Thought you weren't gonna come out of that one. Your pressure dropped and your tan turned white" My only answer was, "Fuck I hope my tan came back, there's a lot of road work in that. Plus your oil."

"Want to call it quits?"
"Why would I do that? Those men were here for a reason and I want to know what it was. You do not ask someone to pull a stunt like that unless there's a deep curiosity."

"You stuck your arrow in that one. Fact is, they'd like it if, tomorrow, we go with them on a little excursion. I told them to bring the booze.
Sandy, I know what this is about and all I can say is that I've never seen another man come up here and have this invite."

Knowing that many questions didn't get answered, I didn't ask for one but said I need to try out some muscles, which Elms mis-interpreted, as I rolled him on his back and fucked him blowing him at the same time. After that, I shucked myself again and lay back, a happy, fulfilled man. I felt my legs pushed apart and a tongue run down the inside of my thighs. I was going to enjoy this one or two or three.

Of course his first question was how had I done it and I told him. Why not? It's a useful thing to know and someday it might save someone's life. I could, which most people could not, not only stay calm but slow my respiration and heart beats.

The next day the guys showed up in a sort of super Jeep. Clearly spent a lot of time in the country, it would easily tear down an expressway as well. The idea of being in a wheeled vehicle with a motor was interesting. As usual, Elms had me decked out in my ever present loin cloth, the heavier legging, knee high moccasins, deer skin shirt and I was carrying my coat. Ten minutes into the drive I was shedding clothes until I was down to my loin cloth, a fact that puzzled Aaron and Sol both of whom had complained about the cold and how the damn heater in a Jeep never was as good as a Ford. I almost snuggled next to Elms, thought better of it, let him pull a rug over me and I slept.

We were on a prominence in no specific place. From where we were, the landscape was uninteresting if you were taking a tour of the area. We were not. I pulled on my moccasins and the shirt, piled out of the car waiting to see what might happen. All, but me, had field glasses the sort made in Germany which were said to be the best in the world. While they all surveyed, I tried to figure out the point of the drill until Sol handed me his, turned me in a certain direction and asked if I could see a red spot by a tree. I could do that. The selection of a gun was left to me. Okay, checked the sighting, decided whether standing, kneeling or sprawled out offered me the best shot, slowed my breathing and heart rate, looked down the barrel and pulled the trigger.

"Jesus, unless an owl took it,, he fucking blew away the target." There were compliments and then I was asked if I could see the sapling just to the left of where the target had been. I could. Without instruction, I raised the gun, stayed in my slow mode and shot. "He broke it in half, the top part is missing. Terrific shooting."
Now what? We walked about a quarter of a mile until the topography changed slightly. This time there was a small creek meandering through it.
Aaron handed me his glasses, asked if I could see the creek just after a bend near a copse of trees. I could. On the opposite bank, there should be a yellow shape. Didn't have to tell me. This was a shot going diagonally down and so laying on my belly made it easier. Slowed everything, sighted in and shot. I could see a splattering of sand or pebbles but also the yellow spot was gone. They were quiet.

"How far away do you think you can shoot?"
"With this? I'm at my outer boundaries. With something else, different ammo, depending on the load, probably some further but in feet and inches, no way for me to tell." They took me around to the back of the jeep and opened a large case filled with gun carriers.
"Look through there, see what you find, let us know what you think."

I finally found a single shot, long barrel rifle with excellent rifling. Depending on what they wanted, this was as good as it was going to get. I asked to check the ammo, asked some questions about how it was loaded and with what and then back to looking over the creek.
They were all looking through their glasses, looking for something that presented a solid target and wasn't blocked by limbs or trees.
Finally settled on the nest of a small bird or squirrel half again as far as the creek bank. I took the glasses looked for myself.
"I can give it a try, just hope it isn't occupied, hate to kill something for no reason."

This time I did take my time particularly with the sighting. I'd never shot this piece, had no idea whether it might go left or right out of the muzzle. Again, the rifling looked good and so it was time to shoot.

On one knee, the rifle shouldered, I took my time, almost stopped my breathing and my heart rate was down by half. Again, concerned I was going to fuck up someone's happy home, I squeezed it off and from those with field glasses came a gasp. I knew I'd done it.

Sol helped me up. "Never in my whole mortal fucking life have I seen a shot like that. Are you for real? Jesus S. And you wanted to be an attorney? With a skill like that, you may need an attorney." And then he was very quiet.

Nothing more here, gents, why don't we get on home, Sandy and I have lessons this afternoon and he tires a bit when he's on display like he is now. The gentlemen were more than cooperative. I got to ride shot gun, have the window open and let the seat back recline while wind blew over my mostly naked body. Suddenly we were home or back at the shack. They came in, Elms gave them a Brandy, we had some desultory conversation the gist of which was that we would hear from them. We all shook hands and they scooted out.

We both hauled out our dicks and began pumping out the loads we'd held back while I was shooting. Laughing, we realized this was a two man deal so we got down, got each other's cock located in our mouths and gently went to work.


I was sitting in my place a mug of whatever Elms had made this time in my hand while he sat beside me, obviously in thought about something.
"I guess, that little stunt today plus the one the other day in the pond pretty much seals it. I'm gonna be out of here."
"Looks like that." He was too choked up to continue.
"Favor?"
"You got it."
"If you find out the day, don't tell me. Just let Karl pull into the area and I'll know. That gets me out quick....for both of us."
"I'll do it but you forget, I'll know...."
"Sorry, Sir, I never thought of that. Why don't we get up in the bushes and catch Karl in a cross fire, that's set him off."
Elms smiled, put an arm around me as we sat watching the fire.

Later that evening I heard a noise, not an animal but someone coming up too close and too cautiously. Okay, two can do that. I slipped out of a window as quiet as I knew how, pulled my gun from my loin cloth and got right up behind him. A second later he was being choked with one arm and a hand had a gun shoved in his mouth. And the words. "Okay, buddy, want to get a blow job like you've never had?"

He went limp and tried to put his hands up. I'd seen that trick on television so released nothing but did turn him a bit.
"Aaron, what the fuck are you doing out here? You notice it's night? And what's with the sneaking around."
"Aw, Sandy, I just can't get it right with you. First the shot and now this.....Sol wants you and Elms to go out on a night time mission and sent me to get you. I had a case of the cutes and thought, I'll show them so I parked too far for you to hear the car and came over the hill to where you found me."
I just looked at him and then, to settle a score, got him with a good round house right. "Okay, that takes care of getting shot. Lets get Elms and he can look at your wound."
"I deserved it....."
"Well, not that hard,, only meant to black your eye."

Aaron wasn't particularly forthcoming as to what Sol had in mind save that it needed to be done at night and I was the one to do it. Okay, I can try that. If we were going to be out on the lone prairie we /me shooting at rats underground, this might not work out. One thing, and I explained it very carefully, before he brought the car or the truck or the Harvester around, I had to be securely blindfolded, not that I gave a shit about where we were going, but night shooting requires that your eyes are accustomed to the dark which doesn't happen in a few minutes. Although he probably didn't care, I explained there were places in the world, I was thinking of the one in New Zealand, where nothing but natural light is allowed. At night the sky looks more like the strip in Vegas with all the stars.

Elms got me suited up for whatever. It wasn't a particularly cold night but there was still snow on the ground. Fortunately it was moonless so that helped me. He first put pads over my eyes, secured them with surgical tape, then several windings of bandannas to prevent any light at all. He brought me to the car, put me next to him and we were off to...what?

Aaron lacked Joe's skills at driving, a fact that could be ascertained by the number of times Elms sucked air through his teeth as we swayed way out of trim on a curve or a corner or whatever. Mercifully, it wasn't a long trip until we were wherever we were expected. I explained to Sol about the light situation and, what could he do?, he had to agree.

Finally I was unwound and shown what was wanted. Why I was needed but....okay, I'll do it. As usual we were above the target which was a car in a driveway about two miles away. There were no lights to fix on but the car itself was a larger black lump than what was around it. This was going to be an on the ground episode which steadied me. In the no light condition the inclination is to go over or under judging trajectory and distances. That's why I'd had myself blindfolded, not some game but, as I now used the word to myself, what a sniper would do.

There could only be one shot and so I settled in, did my breathing and heart slowdown exercises, steadied the gun, looked down the sight, found what I thought was the glass-there was some slight reflection-and squeezed off my shot.

The explosion a few seconds later blew those standing up to the ground. It became clear to me that this was no target practice, this was a for real assignment and, I supposed, I'd just got a gold star for my efforts. Sol and Aaron were anxious to leave and, until we'd gone a mile or so away from the spot, did so with only fog lamps. When we hit the road, Sol, now driving, had apparently done better in Driver's Ed. than Aaron for I had no sense of imminent death. In my mind a plan had formulated and, once we were back at the shack, I'd spring my trap.



The two men didn't seem to want to wait to have a coffee or whatever but since I'd reached over and pulled out the keys, they found they had a minute or two.

These were not, they were told, demands, these were simply requests that I hoped would be honored. First, I'd decide when I thought I was ready to return to Bunkie land. Second, fun and games were over. Whatever the reason I'd been sent out to Elms was rethought and it would be agreed this wasn't to screw me out of a position but to genuinely qualify me in fire arms and, finally, no more slipping in and out at night for I would shoot and, as they should well know, I didn't miss very often and at close range, never.

""Have a good drive back to wherever, gentlemen." and threw them the keys. They carefully, oh so carefully backed out their lights
illuminating one man, almost naked ,holding a rifle and smiling.

Back in the shack,  I collapsed and just stared into the dark. "Will I get what I asked for?"
"Most of it. They involved you, and probably without a release, in a real action in which you performed perfectly. The only question that they'll wonder about is....could he shoot a man? Could you?"

"Easy, it's something I've always wanted to do. Used to think, if I did that, could I select my own form of torture and punishment?" I could sense Elms getting hard. "Remember the chief with the long, slim, silver knife that he used to cut off my cock and balls then stick through my neck?" And stopped there.
"No fun to kill each other." I agreed. But.....what leads up to that point....."Yep, could be interesting. Lets suck each other off and get back to sleep." In a way I wanted one of the guys to come sneaking back, I'd never shot a man but why shouldn't they be the first notch on my cock?
Elms was particularly into it this evening. Probably the chief with the knife......

The thing he wanted me to learn was how to use and shoot a bow and arrow. Nothing short of poison was quieter or more efficient. The drawback was that they had limited range, even given the fantastic compound bows that were available. I was strong so pulling a bow as far as it went was easy. Getting the arrow situated, fletching's in the right place was a matter of learning how to do it. The far more difficult task was aiming and letting go of the arrow so that it went where you had in mind. To be a truly proficient bowman took a very long time, far more than I would ever have but knowing something about it was important. My aim was only fair but that was to be expected. At the end of the day, my drawing arm was sore and, frankly, I was bored. It was also the day I'd made a decision and told Elms.

"I could stay here with you......for a very long time. Yes, I miss Purr and Joe and my parents but compared to what we're doing and the relationship we've got going, it's a hard trade off but I have to go back. Putting it off just makes it harder to go."
"Sandy, if I ever wanted a son to have beside me, it would be you. I certainly plan to meet your Dad and tell him exactly what sort of son he has although I expect he knows it. And, yeah, it's time for you to move on. Got a date in mind? Today's Tuesday."
"Thursday late? Gets me back so I can slide in pretty much unnoticed. Maybe Joe will be there. I can have Friday to figure out whatever comes next, swim lots of laps, in other words, avoid people. They don't know me anyway so I'm just another guy in the pool. Stay off the diving board and that cuts down on my visibility. You got any thoughts? Anyway you can take me back....?"

"Sorry, son, but that's not going to happen. Shit head Karl thinks he runs pick up and deliveries so he'll be the one. Gonna scare the shit out of him." And he grinned. "Leave off a city boy and pick up a red injun, You gotta promise you'll start as you're usually dressed around here....gotta get your hair cut again and....you're a swimmer, how about shaving your whole body?"
"I think we'd both like that. Particularly if I was tied down and this was a sort of punishment......"
He wagged his head up and down in agreement. There was also the hint of a treacherous smile which promised good times for both of us.

Tuesday night we stayed up for a good round of fucking and sucking. When we were taking a rest, each of us had a good sized dildo shoved up our butts waiting to be replaced by the real thing. It was  a good night.


Wednesday was unexpected. I woke to find myself in a web of rope with Elms holding one end. At a tug, it stiffened and I was immobilized. There were hooks that descended from the ceiling which went under the knotting on my shoulders and then pulled me up.
"Shibari, son. Japanese rope binding. Sometimes for beauty and sometimes.....not. You're tied to that any rope I pull, and I know which to pull, causes some part of you to alter its position. Hanging there, I must say, you look like a stud ready for what comes next. One hot man, his cock already starting to drip."

He took a large steel hook attached it to a dangling rope which started up as the hook went into my ass. Painful.

He was stark naked, his body glistening with oil and only too anxious to proceed. I dripped more, which he stood under me and caught then pulled another rope and the knot around my balls clamped shut. "Too much of that and you'll be a steer. I thought about steering you, cutting your nuts off, opening the sack, taking them out and putting in something big and noticeable. But we'll see. Course, with no balls you wouldn't need a cock so......I made this for you."

He reached down like a magician doing a clever trick and pulled out an exquisite piece of wood and metal work; A guillotine with four holes. "This was for us, cock, balls each one gets one." He lowered me a little loosened the knot on my balls..."No point in killing them off if I'm going to cut them off is there?" I was as hard as I'd ever been and kept drooling cum. The sense of need for sex was overwhelming but all I could do was see my cock, the veins were beginning to show, ooze out something I wanted to go in him. Bastard, he knew this was what I wanted, it was what he wanted. I could sense his desire to trade places.

"I worked on this contraption for a long time, knew you'd have to go away but saved it until now. The shaving comes later but for now..."He pulled another rope and the ass hook went further in. "Time to put in a gag, don't want to bother the neighbors."

He lowered me until he had access to my mouth then took out a copy of a horse bridle, but one that had a cock attached to the bit. "And I've got the riding crop to go with it." He popped my ass with it making it sting. And again and again. "When we get to a nice Cherry red, that'll be about right. You won't want Joe in there for some little while and good luck explaining it." Some more stinging swishes and I began to shake in agony.

"Time for the nipples to join the fun." Another machine, this time with rubber cups and a very small, painful needle inside that was electrified. "Ever want your nips pierced? Huh? Bet you thought about it. And I may have the pleasure of doing it myself. Also a bull ring, cuz I'm gonna keep you as a bull but only after some fun with your man bits."

I was getting lost in the pain but also knew that I wanted more, I was becoming an insatiable pain pig...he probably knew it because he was one. Too bad we would never have a chance to play out our mutual fantasies.

"Let you hang there, suffer, think about what might come next. How about we make the cock chopper a little tighter?" He pushed the lever and the blade fell....just to the top of my swollen cock. I almost fainted from fright and he was looking right at me, holding his throbbing meat, vicariously living it. "Might as well join you for a bit." He put his hard stake in the hole meant for his cock and, after a long pause, pulled the lever that dropped the blade to just above him. I could see him shaking with pleasure. Just for us, he added milking tubes to each of us and turned on the machine that ran it. No stopping, it forced one load then got ready for the next.

"We'll have us for dinner tonight. What say if we each contributed one ball? Just one. Still be fertile men, but think about watching as the testes came out, still dangling, still operational then the long, thin, silver knife runs through it while a very small but efficient chain saw cuts the cord?'

We were both so involved that it could have gone too far, we both would have sacrificed all our genitals, one at a time, for the ecstasy of knowing we were doing it. Then the feast, ball with man sauce. If I'd had a free hand, I'd have triggered the blade and that would end one side of the pleasure and prepare for the other. Fuck tomorrow, fuck having to go to an emergency room. I saw his hand go for his lever and I screamed as best I could, "ELMS, NO!!!!!" and the spell was broken.

He backed off unloaded us, began to untie me until I fell into his arms still dripping semen which he quickly dropped down to lick as I did his.

It was a bit later, we were laying on the skins looking up at his handiwork. All for me. I tried to express my gratitude but he pointed out, I was the messenger who allowed this to happen. He figured he'd keep it up where he'd installed in waiting for someone else who wanted to learn how to shoot a gun but wasn't very good at it. What price might they pay to have some sort of satisfactory report handed in?

I rolled over and cried on his chest, my tears coursing through his hair and across the panoply of his tattoos.
"You want one of these...eventually?"
"How about now? I'll bet you have a tattoo gun, some ink...an idea. It is impossible that you do not want to put your mark on me somewhere, with something......"
"Too risky, others see it, and wonder. If you want ink, you'll have to get it yourself but I know a guy who thinks kinda like we do. He'd tie you down, electrify your ass or your cock while he put your ink on you."

He got up and started pulling on robes which made the Shibari ropes go up and fold into one another. The other things, back in the other building. Only thing left out was the guillotine. "Think I'll put that on a shelf where someone will ask about it, maybe even ask to see how it works." We both laughed knowing that was just what would happen."

"Fuck it, Sandy, there will never be another one like you, never. Your father and I will bring Joe out here and, well, you'll be in the market for somebody else."
"Nope, that would never happen, something happens to Joe, he leaves me, breaks my heart and you'll find an indian in a loin cloth coming back to stay. Face it, we know what they'll want me to do and for that, I don't have to live in Bunkie and eat food that would gag  a goat."

I hung on him, kissed him, kissed his nipples, kissed each of his balls meant to kiss his cock but it got in my mouth and had to stay a while. He was in his own way trying to find a way to let me go and it was hard work for him. Very hard work.

We sat there a bit, two naked men looking out a slit in two leather pieces seeing at once the world and a personal end to it. "Nice day isn't it. To bad there isn't enough snow left to make snow angels. Sure'd be fun, naked in the snow....:" and tapered off afraid of what he might say.

To try and move away from that I piped up and said, "Hey, I believe I was promised a hair cut and a body shave. Offer still stand?"
It did rouse him, it was something he wanted to do and I wanted done. I could see my super critical hairless body, save for the strip on my head, gliding into the pool. "Say, son, you're are one hundred percent right. I want my man to look like nothing they've seen, all smooth, you're usual quiet smile. lets get to gittin, shaving a body takes a piece of time."
If he wasn't happy he was diverted and that was good.

The next day, for Winter, was almost warm, no wind and very sunny. Elms suggested we take care of my body shave and haircut outside which was fine with me. I'd grown accustomed to my tan and this was probably the last time I'd have to get a good sun bath. First was the haircut, or head shave leaving just the stripe of hair down the middle over the top and ending just above my neck. This time he cut an arrow point at the back which I didn't notice until I was told.

Then the big event, the body shave. As a swimmer and diver this wasn't anything save who was doing it, where it was being done and how thoroughly peeled I'd be. When he'd shaved my head, he'd done my face as well adding two slashes in one eyebrow. That was to make people wonder and, besides they'd grow back. When I remembered the times I'd had to shave myself, this was a treat. You almost have to ask someone to do those places you cannot reach and you return the favor. In the end, it was never as fantastically done as Elms was. He opened the entrance to my ass to clean that up and, up front, my cock and balls were as smooth as eggs and the casing on a sausage. One little bit of décor: He left a stripe going up from my cock for about an inch which matched the stripe on my head.

After he was done, I laid in the sun for a bit and then went in to the tub and finally took a nap. Elms was no where in sight but that wasn't unusual.

Later, after my nap, I picked up a couple of firing pieces, some ammo and wandered down to the firing range. No reason, just the blast of the shotgun near my head seemed to clear my head. Did all the disciplines I knew but, I was finding, on my belly was my favorite and the one in which I had the most success. In terms of protecting anyone, it was a dud-what agent escorts whomever on their belly, even using a crawler from an automobile shop, it would look ludicrous.

After a bit, I was just laying there, trying not to think when a foot was put on my butt and a friendly voice asked where I was and where my thoughts were. I had no answer, didn't even roll over. As ever Purr was on my mind as was the possible reunion with Joe the following day. That is, if he were even there, not a given. Elms lay on his side by me, put out a friendly hand and did a version of the Dutch Rub on my head.
"It's tomorrow, right about now, sundown."
No arguing that.
He rolled over on his back, his prime package almost exposed in his version of Indian wear but even giving him a good milking didn't cut it for me. I knew there would be a last place and this wasn't where or what I wanted.

"Sandy, you're just one of the greatest guys and men I've ever met. There aren't many of you and I feel fortunate to have been given the opportunity to pass on to you what I and, I believe, your father would want you to know. Sure, there are some things you need to learn but your good manners will cover some of those situations and you're all over adroitness in a situation will carry you further. But, serious time, you need to shoot your man. That it hasn't happened eats at your gut, will be there until it's happened. Then......you'll have to find out your own reaction. But you'll have done the deed and can, as you say, notch your cock. Just, please, when you get out that long, thin silver knife, be careful.

I smiled.
"Attaboy, some memories are always there and are available for your use whenever you might need them."
"Sir, I will really and truly miss you. I'd stay here forever but that would be a waste of what you've taught me, still......it's an idea whose time will never come." Somewhere in my mind a faint light bulb clicked on. Almost idly, know the impossible when I thought it.."if we could get Dad up here, that would be one hellacious time. No way he wouldn't have a grand time....." and abandoned it having vocalized it.
Elms who was having a bit of trouble containing his emotions, sort of agreed it was a great idea but one that just wasn't going to happen.

I rolled up into a squat, reached back my hand and the two of us were on our feet leaving the range and headed home.

Quiet dinner, we both contributed two load, plus the delicious feeling that comes after you've jacked off but haven't turned loose and your little/big/long/semi engorged cock but it worries/anticipates what's going to happen next. Apparently your procreative organs have no memories of what happened, what felt good, what did not.

The soup was particularly creamy and oh so good. After that, neither of us could think of much to say so we sat for a bit and then went to bed. With each other for what was probably the last time. We exchanged fucks then settled in, Elms being particular affectionate and protective as we moved into our spooning mode.

It was morning, the end of this part of the line. Elms wasn't about but I found all my blue clothing which I hadn't seen since the day I arrived. Figuring I would have to wear them, I pulled most of it on and watched as they fell to the floor. The hoodie, while obviously covering me, made me look more like a waif. A T shirt almost stretched across my chest and biceps but hung loosely, shapeless. While I knew my body had changed a bit, this was far from a bit. Maybe this was good, it depended on your taste, my butt had gone more to the "bubble" shape so admired by many and, with my abdomen, small waist, big bulge and now, the butt, I could fill a Speedo in a way they may never had in mind. Had I had one in the size I'd formerly worn, I would be curious if wearing it diving, and going in arms and head first, meant that I'd leave my suit, and probably my swimming jock, behind me.

I heard a chuckle that turned to a laugh behind me and turned to join him. "Don't worry, son, I'll have you pinned in so tight it'll all stay up and cause havoc when you walk in." I wondered, aloud if I could wear my Indian clothes but that was shot down as pushing someone's envelope waaay too far. "The good thing is the trial run will be Karl who doesn't notice much beyond how much gas there is in his truck."

Both of us realized that there was no point in "one more time" as it would only lead to sadness. Elms did have one spectacular gift for me: A heavy leather modified cross between a satchel and a soldiers duffel bag. Worked in two colors, dark and darker, it was spectacular. A piece like that in a good leather goods store was, easy, several thousand dollars. He'd packed my loin cloth-takes less room than underwear-plus the various pants and leggings, the shirt, the magnificent coat and, finally, at least two liters of dried soup mix thoughtfully labelled, "Just add cream or milk". There were two pistols, in their cases with a hundred rounds of ammunition plus a rifle to be attached to the side of the case, also with ammo.
He had a sort of sneaky smile as he handed me my licenses to carry fire arms open or closed and issued to me as a registered agent of the Secret Service. "You could probably drag a bazooka onto a plane with your credentials."

Elms, one of the most accomplished people, no matter the skill or craft-he'd made all the leather things including the bag, took my blue clothes and altered them, usually just by taking a chunk of material and sewing a seam. The next try on revealed that my sweat pants were only about one off leggings, the body of the hoodie tapered down from my chest to my waist and the T shirt looked more as if it had been sprayed on. I liked it. I wasn't used to looking, well, hot and this certainly was.
"Good thing your shoes will still fit."

I took it all off but then remembered I didn't have anything else to wear. Elms found a top coat that wouldn't do it for GQ but would work until....later that day.

We sat facing each other and tried to draw down all that had happened. One element that was missing was any comment on the report I knew he would send.  Purr and my Dad were the subjects of a lot of conversation but those topics went away as afternoon wore on and then it was time.

He got me in my blues, made sure all the seams were straight, took me outside and literally posed me. Kissing the back of my neck I could hear his boots walking away until there was no sound. I could feel the setting sun behind me and then the crunch of tires. What Karl would see was an outline of a tall man, a rifle under one arm, a large bag on the ground and a casual strength. And that's what he saw.

"Where's Elms?" I just shrugged suggesting that I didn't know. Lacking his expected dialogue, which was obviously killing him, he tried to get a rise out of me. What he got was a short, sharp command, "Can it Karl." And he did.





Eventually we were back at the base-no idea if it had a specific term or name-I walked in, showed my ID, got through the electric doors and I was in. There was no future in running, that would grab the attention I didn't want but carefully, purposefully, walked to my bunkie, opened the door and, as I'd pretty much expected, it was empty. Whether Joe had been in or out or, maybe was in now, I couldn't tell.

Being stuck in the clothes I was wearing, until I could get to supplies and get newer, thinner clothes, I took off everything, laid them out on a chair, climbed up into my bunk and lay there. A crunching noise under the pillow made me put my hand there and pulled out a envelope, with my name typed on it, opened it and found a letter from Joe. There were only a few lines but they affirmed that, whether I liked it or not, he loved me and he was mine. He had been in and out but could not figure out the ever extending length of my absence-it had been months-and could find no information. He didn't know when he'd check back in, he was on a short term assignment, but the thing he most wanted to find in his bed was me.

Hopped out of my bunk and slide into his. If he wanted to find me in his bed, he would. And then I went to sleep.



A knock at the door, a head stuck in. "Diver?"
"Yo"
"Chow hall, soon as you can,"
The problem here was, of course, something to wear. Knowing the informal nature of the place I probably could have worn a jock, socks and my shoes but that seemed to push it. Of what was available to me, the paint on pants and the spray on T shirt were as close as I could come. Also, being all Navy, they didn't reveal much.

Two minutes later I was in the dining room/chow hall to find it almost dark. Lights went up, men stood up and there was applause. Someone, an agent I didn't know took me to the front where he ran down why the commotion. It would seem I'd done very well at shooting.....but, he said, there was one more person who needed to be here. "Joe?"

Outside in the hall I heard a familiar yowling, a sharp snap and Purr came bouncing into the room and into my arms. I had just enough time to brace or she would have taken me down. One more surprise, my father walked in carrying half a leash. I couldn't off load Purr so I had to wait for him to get to me to try and shake his hand and give him a hug. Purr clung like a limpet and the agent explained that this was Purr, my cat and beloved of the Police Department in our area. Wisely, he added, if anyone was morbidly afraid of cats or allergic to them, this would be a real good moment to get out. Two or three guys left but did so applauding.

I finally peeled Purr from me and....she made a new friend, the agent in charge. He was trying to hold papers when she hopped into his arms and all I could say as I got her down, after an apology, was that she only did that to people whom she really likes and wants them to know it.

By now my father had a chance to look me over and realized this wasn't the quiet young man who'd gone out for a run many months ago. "Dad, I'll explain it all later." Wondering if I could; Not explaining some details was really more important than, "The Big Picture".
We were supposed to be seated and, with considerable effort, I got Purr into my lap and held her there but it wasn't an easily done thing. All these new people, smells, activities....she was prepared to do her own tour of the facility and I knew once she was off and running it would be hard to catch although I believed she would come to me. That's what I believed.

The first announcement was to introduce me as a full fledged member of the Secret Service. Lots of cheers and attaboys. But the next thing was the bombshell; I had attained the highest score ever in all disciplines of shooting every possible fire arm used by the service. In fact, my aggregate score was....and he almost couldn't read it, "99.86 percent of all rounds attempted". He stopped and looked out at a stunned group of men. All of them knew what was a good, even a great score but this was stratospheric. And that, as they all knew, it came from Elms, had real meaning. After the shock wore off, there was enormous applause, whistling, stamping and I tried to stand. With Purr in my lap I almost made it but tipped over and ended up on the floor with Purr on top of me licking my face. Dad leaned over, brushed Purr off me and doing the fireman's hand to wrist arrangement got me up.

I was stunned. I'd never kept track, didn't know Elms was either. And, I had to assume, Sol and Aaron had a hand in this as well, I had shot perfectly for them.....Dad semi whispered, "Say Something".

I tried to think what to say so I thanked all of them for putting up with a phantom whose only claim had been off a diving board and then disappearing. I thanked my-absent-Bunkie for bringing me to this new occupation and most of all, two men; My father, and  Elms, both of whom were modelsl of patience and facility when it came to teaching me. I said how grateful I was, how I would apply myself and if anyone needed swimming or diving lessons, just look for me. It was the right touch. The agent in charge handed me a framed certificate and my permanent Agent's badge. Applause, everybody stood and I almost cried I was so touched. Dad put his arm around me and put one hand in the air.

"I'm grateful to you for accepting my son, Sandy, for giving him this opportunity to do something he felt was correct and necessary. Also for letting the family borrow Purr which saved a lot of money in terms of putting in a security system." Almost on cue, Purr hopped up on a table as if to take a bow. With all the men in the room, there were thousands of new smells, people, clothing to be examined. Dad added, "She will not hurt you, yes, her tongue is more like a rasp but she will not extend her claws and a playful hand holding, your hand in her mouth, does not produce fangs. We've learned to trust her, the officers near our home trust her and, I need to say this, want several just like her. Seems dogs can be threatening and strong. Well.......Purr comes with claws that can do surgery and a jaw that can break bones, big bones, like your femur. But forget all that, at base, she's a friendly, rambunctious house cat.....with improvements.Oh, and one last thing, if there's a "Mister Secret Agent" Contest, I think you just found a new entrant." Laughter, Dad was great at this sort of extemporaneous speaking.

As quietly as I could I asked Allenby if someone could take me to equipment and help me find some clothes that didn't look like I wanted bragging rights. He laughed and asked, "Tooter" to come help me then announced I'd be back as soon as they peeled the paint from me and real clothes were applied. The agent he asked took me toward the "clothes closet" as he called it. But we didn't go alone. Purr, not willing to endure another separation, trotted along. Tooter seemed a bit disconcerted but stopped to lean down and make friends. Purrs was willing, put her paws on his shoulder and licked his face. As with many others enduring their first encounter with the big cat, were amazed at her tongue, that it seemed to be made from rasps. But he was a good sport, Purr released him and we all got to the equipment room. It took a while simply because I'd developed something of a body builder body without meaning to. Finally got a couple of pairs of sweat pants, some shorts, Ts, socks hoodies, jocks-and I asked for an extra one, I had an idea. Also got a spare pair of pants and a hoodie. Back to the breakfast club and more applause when I appeared looking pretty much like every body else. I did, however, save Elms stitching against a day which very close fitting clothes might come in handy.

Dad was, not surprisingly, slightly repelled at the food so confined himself to coffee, milk and some Danish that didn't seem to have been made locally.

Purr, who was making the rounds suddenly dashed out the door. Not bothering to excuse myself, I went after her only to find she was in my bunkie with Joe who had slipped in. "I meant to be in your bed, you can see that it's been slept in."
"Before anyone can get here....: He took me in his arms hugged me and kissed me only breaking the clinch when the sound of cowboy boots were heard. Dad.

He was very friendly, glad to see Joe, glad to see Purr sit down and showing no signs of wandering off. Just now she had her three favorite humans in the world in one place and what could be better? In a way, I agreed. Better would have been if we'd been out with Elms, all sitting around, naked or in loin cloths  being men together. I tossed that idea rather quickly. Our room was made for two men and no thought had been given to visitors. I gave Dad a chair, Joe and I sat on the edge of his bunk. He was still dressed as he had been when he came in, I was newly clad in things that fit and Dad looked like a wealthy cowman.

"I guess it's up to me to start and I'm going for the guts. Guys, I know all about you and your affection for each other and....I couldn't be more pleased. What you don't know, Joe, is that our family, and lots of others, have been looking for a man for my son for a long time. I'm not sure this was how anyone planned it but I don't care. You love him?"
"Sir, from the moment I saw him and I admit, I kind of Shanghaied him but no one could have predicted what happened next. He's my bunkie and we don't have to live here now that he's a full agent, we can move into wherever we want. Hate to break your heart but the cat goes with us."

"Well that covers love and romance, now what? It's still early and I'm guessing there's no guided tour."
"Jeez, Jon, if I may call you that, you know what he'll do, dive in and swim."
"Everyone is welcome to come with me. Dad, I even got you a jock, that's what we swim in around here."
"I don't suppose you'd object if Joe and I joined you when you finished swimming the English Channel while we shoot the shit about you."
"I guess that was to be expected. Just...spare him all the stories about what happened when......"I was stripping. My father stopped me, had me turn, shook his head and smiled. "It pleases me that some of me is in you."
"Dad, quite a lot." Snapped my waist band, leaned over kissed both of them and headed for the pool. I wondered what they'd discuss, me of course but the specifics? I would find out.

A cats paw was playing with my jock and very quickly had it around my ankles. I knew to put it on was to invite her to pull it off again so waited until I was at the edge of the pool, slipped it on and dove in. As did she. I got to the deep end, tread water and played with her. Most wild cats, Tigers, Cheetahs etc are great swimmers and Purr was no exception. While she couldn't keep up with me, she enjoyed playing with me when I passed her. Thinking to put her off her watery ways, I came out of the pool and up to the ten meter board. She followed me which I expected. What I did not expect was for her to jump off before I could dive in. All of this had attracted something of a crowd and since I had a reputation as a diver, hence my handle, everyone was interested in some sort of display. What they got was not what they planned on.

I dove in right behind her immediately concerned that she might have injured herself, knocked the wind from her lungs....whatever, I got to her as soon as I came up and found two golden eyes looking right at me and, if a cat can smile, she did. I rolled on my back while she lay on my nicely sculpted abdomen. Shame she didn't know how to paddle. Not really wanting her to try the ten meter drop again, I got on the spring board and....she loved it. Imagine a hard trampoline over deep water with a man and a large cat bouncing up and down and you've got the idea. Few, I imagine, could imagine that so the guys who'd wandered in squatted down and waited for whatever might happen next.

Eventually I caught her in an off balance position that caused her to flip off the board and into the water. Now, this was something to see, a cat doing back flips into a pool followed by a guy also doing a back flip into the water. Purr was loving it and it was about then that she noticed her-I didn't count-audience so she scrambled out and ran to them to make new friends. I slid onto the edge and quietly got to the 10 meter platform where I watched her work the crowd. Her favorite thing to do was grab some part of their jock, pull it off, run with it, they were in hot pursuit, then jump in the pool where it momentarily floated until it was thoroughly soaked and sank. Sometimes it was in the shallow end, some times in the deep end; If you weren't a strong swimmer, and, in theory, they guys had passed some sort of water proficiency test, it was no problem. By the time you'd got yours one, or more, were floating and sinking. Sort of like playing "Marco Polo" occasionally in the nude with a big cat.

I was choked with laughter but decided to do what was kind of expected of me. This time I did a very difficult take off which involved doing a one armed hand stand. You had to be extremely strong and have a terrific sense of balance to do it, the actual dive that followed was almost an after thought. Surfacing, I yelled, "Don't try that one at home." It was a weak joke but, hell, I didn't know these men and I wanted some rapport even if it meant doing stunt dives and letting my cat lick their balls-an unfortunate habit she'd learned with me. I was always shaved so when she found a guy, recently de-jocked, who was furry, this was a new, interesting turn of events, something to  be explored. Other guys howled as she'd bat the bulging sack or a stiffening cock.

I found a lap lane far from the men and Purr and quietly slipped in and started my endless swims. What I'd learned from Elms was that these swims, my very long runs, apart from the exercise they provided, serviced my mind by letting it dump whatever wasn't needed. I'd process something, unconsciously, resolve whatever it was and forget it unless I'd solved a problem. Out with Elms I didn't have many problems so I could enjoy the pure physicality of running. I heard a pair of splashes and assumed that someone and Purr had gone off a diving board. I wasn't needed. So on I swam.

Later I saw Dad and Joe amble in, jocks in hand, now naked. I was used to seeing my father like that, always admired his well constructed body and, I'll confess  it his generous cock and balls. Next to him Joe seemed quiet, almost withdrawn but determined in whatever it was. They slid into the pool, by now almost deserted except for about five men who were playing a game of their own devising with Purr. Periodically she'd wander around the pool then lope beside me for a few moments, just assuring herself I was still there, then returned to whatever they were doing.


Dad, Joe and I ended up at one end all draped over the coping. The offer on the table was that Dad would take us out to lunch-someone may have tipped him about the quality of the local cuisine-then he'd take Joe into town to pick up some things. I was not included but it didn't matter. I could work out, hopefully meet some of the other agents, rest, read, have the first truly uninvolved afternoon in  a long time. Then facing dinner.....I had the mixture from Elms to which I could add water (and my own cream) but also go to the chow hall, meet some more of the guys....see what happened.

Joe asked if he could drive the large, heavy Lincoln sedan and Dad let him. That was one course I hadn't had; Evasion driving. Joe, of course was a master driver with whom anyone would be comfortable. As we roared down the highway at some excessive speed, Dad  chatted on as if the electrical poles weren't going by so fast you could not count them. In this area the cops were used to agents driving too fast and didn't even bother to pull them over. Some of the local law were friends with the agents and would drop in to use the facilities which were better than anything they had access to and, a big selling point, were free.

He took us to a steak house you had to know to find. From the road there didn't even seem to be a visible parking lot, no sign other than one selling insurance but once inside, it was quite a nice place and the food smelled delicious. Got a banquette with Dad between the two of us. Joe and I looked like ill matched twins-he'd put on the navy sweat pants and hoodie as well as a blue T shirt. Dad still looked great....but then he always did.

"Okay, got my two favorite men and it was nice of them to let Purr in. She'll stay under the table unless someone hands her a bit of steak. She's had a busy morning whether she'd admit it or not." He was going to shift gears. "Guys, I said it earlier and I meant it, I couldn't be happier for both of you. Yes, it's of very short duration just now and in 99% of other couples I would say this was a mistake merging on disaster but somehow this is different. When Sandy turns his life around, which is what he's done for a man, there's a reason and it's not because he has access to a pool, it's because he's on the verge of love which is true of you, Joe. Both of you are giving up a part of your past to make a new future and all I can say is....go for it. Now, lets get some menus. After the crap they serve there, I'm amazed this country even has Secret Service agents."

It was a pleasant, easy going lunch. Joe really liked my Dad and that seemed to flow both ways. So much so that they agreed when Dad went back to the city, he'd take Joe to pick up my car. I hadn't known this but as a full agent, I could certainly have my own transportation save when I was on assignment. One prickle wondered about Joe going to town with Dad but I was sure it was so he could meet my mother, who may or may not know of his existence and, if she remembered him, that her son was now sleeping in his bed. She was among the people who had looked for "a nice young man for you, someone with whom you'll have everything in common." Commonality regarding Joe and I, to date, didn't seem very likely. I shrugged it off, enjoyed lunch-we both took doggie bags which more resembled something the size in which you'd pack cement. Purr started to snore at one point which had people looking about to see where the odd noise was coming from. When we finished, I got her out with as little notice as possible, mainly by feeding her most of a very large pork chop.

They dropped me off, headed back to the city and I lay down on my bunk. Well, Joe's bunk but only because it was easier and he wasn't here. I stared at the bottom of my bunk, wondered whether I could nap or read or go swim or run. Before I could make that decision, Agent Allenby knocked and asked if I had a moment. Told him I had all afternoon so he was welcome. He closed the door and locked it which struck me as strange. I rolled over on my side, preparatory to sitting on the edge of the bed but he encouraged me to stay comfortable. He'd come about an assignment.

"Sandy, I guess it will come as no surprise to find we have a job for you that will utilize your tremendous skill with guns and, in particular, that incredible shooting over several miles, just amazing....." I stopped him.
"Sir, you want me to be a sniper, don't you? "
"Yep, that's what we want. Elms says you have no problem with shooting people, that true"?"
"Sir, that is. I've often thought I'd like to go to Africa and shoot poachers."
"You do know that snipers belong to a special group, not just agents but agents we move around the world to do what we feel needs to be done. You may accompany the President to provide cover for him, or you may just lay on top of a building as a motorcade goes by. There's really no repetitiveness but sometimes long periods when you're not doing anything. I understand you have a house in the city and there's no reason not to live there. In a sense, it's good cover, no one from your neighborhood is going to be a sniper and they'll be perfectly used to you. Of course you'll have that cat-I can see why the cops want her-and since Joe introduced you, might as well take hi with you. The two of you seem to get along.....and your cat loves him."
"Well, sir, she seemed to like you as well."
"Yes, that did come as a surprise. Pleasant one as it worked out but I will tell you it scared the shit out of me at first."

"Is there an assignment for me now or right away?"
"Nope, just relax here, I know there are some men who'd like to swim or dive with you. Go run, we've a gun range although that seems almost pointless now that I think about it. And, Sandy, being a sniper is a closed society. Most men will guess it, but there's no discussion with anyone, not your family, not even Joe. Well, I'll make one exception, you can tell Purr." And he laughed.
"If you feel like it, go to the pool and I'll find a couple of the guys who are interested in diving. Just, please, not that one handed one I heard about. Would have made me swallow my gum."
We should hands and he said, "Welcome to the dark world."


And just all those months ago I'd been in a custom made tux, a gold watch on my arm and in a reception line to meet a stranger in our home. Not to mention the Ambassador. Now, by showing a badge and with some ID, I  could gain admission...practically anywhere including the Ambassador's office.

I napped for a while,  not restfully, just eyes closed, hallucinating about the bottom of my bunk.
Knock at that door.
"Yeah, it's open."
I should have expected them, Aaron and Sol. They extended their hands, "Congratulations, buddy. We knew you could do it. Also, welcome to the dark side."

Smiled, tried to look confused. "Is this place called the Dark Side? Never heard that one before." They smiled and laughed a bit.
"Okay, we know you've been told but you might want to look at these...." And proffered some information as well as a new badge, almost like the other new one I had but held on the back by a rifle made into a pin. "We knew you were for us, that night you shot the car. Nobody like you. That's when we decided we'd take you for us. You're the hot shot and we're....cover and back stop. I know you got questions but this isn't the place. Too many people see us dropping in on you and they'll draw conclusions. Allenby, who you can trust will take and send messages. Don't get too close and don't make close friends. Understand you're moving into town, good. Taking Joe...." I looked at them and thought about what I'd say next.
"Yeah, I'm taking Joe and the cat." There was a pause, a long one.
"There's a question I gotta ask."
"You and Joe....real close to each other? Maybe sleep with each other?"
"Yes, we sleep together, have sex together, he thinks he loves me."
"You love him?"
"In a way, yes."
"Could you shoot him, cold blood, right in the eye."
"If necessary."
"Okay for now but, Sandy, keep Joe out of our loop." I looked at them and I knew my eyes were cold and dead. "Just get me some one to shoot, I need to start notching my dick. You know the feeling I assume, shooting up a car is one thing, but I want a target, a moving target who knows I'm out there and my only interest in him is to shoot him. One shot. Through the head. Go away, clean my gun and notch my dick."

They were very quiet. There was an understanding they hadn't planned on but now was there." We can't just get you a target....:"
"Fuck, I know that, but when there's one, I want him, we three, go out, in a crowd, an empty place....that's what we're supposed to do, make the noose so I can shoot the knot off and he drops."

We all three were, easy to see,  very hard. "Wanna stroke 'em down? Might as well, won't be the only time." The two looked at each other, smiled and laughed. "Yep, you're a pistol. Whaddya got around here? Kleenex or towels?" Nothing cements a group like individual sperm mixing on the floor. Nothing. Wouldn't be long before I had them eating their production.

"Some day we'll pick you up and we'll go on an excursion. Regular agents usually are assigned weapons but we get to select ours. Any ideas?"
"Haven't shot enough to even have a clue so we better go some place where they have a good selection and lots of allowances for test shots."
"We know the place."
Abruptly they heard something which turned into a knock on my door. "Yeah"
"Got some guys here who wanna climb the heights at the pool."
"Give me five, I'll be there."
I left first then, one at a time, they did.

At the pool I found three young (to be fair, they were older than I was)  agents eyeing the ten meter board. A quick questioning revealed that apart from swinging in a tube out over pond and turning loose, they were virgins as to real diving. What was needed, and I did it, was a demonstration of a very simple dive, basically a swan dive with a slowly rotated forward roll and straight into the water. Almost no splash. Wish I'd had that in a couple of contests. After that we started at the edge of the pool with them trying to go in without ending up a  belly flop. They were grateful and asked if we could do it again. The answer was sure and I dived in to begin one of my long swims.

Joe showed up, smiling, and I slid out and walked toward him. I was wet and needed to grab a towel. While I dried down and found some clothes, blue-what else?

Outside there was a car I'd never seen but, I was told it was mine. Joe had picked it out because it was hot without looking it. Also, there was a load of clothes, also selected by Joe. They looked great on me but not what I would have selected. These were somewhat subdued but looked good, older which, I suppose, I was.
"Dad, huh?" Yep, Jon did the clothes, I did the car, hope you're pleased." We were in the bunkie and the door was closed and locked. I was nude as fast as a towel would drop, one hand on my cock, the other running over my abdomen. We missed dinner.

Sex with Joe was as great as ever but there had been a shift in that I was now the dominant. We did what I wanted, generally, but gave him some choices. What I wanted was a nice balance that satisfied him and disguised that I wanted a kind of sex he wasn't used to. Rougher, more punishing, more a contest for pain and pleasure. He liked it more and more and expected me to provide him with the lust and demand that proved love.

We'd moved back into my home-Purr was ecstatic-my parents were pleased, my mother, after the initial shock took to Joe. It turned out they both liked gardening and, when he was around, they, and Purr, would spend the afternoon doing whatever they found to do. I spent my days reading and, privately, talking to Aaron or Sol who kept me in the loop. Sometimes we'd go out just for the hell of it and like kids, shot cans on fence posts, bottles, preferably glass and got to form our unit or gang as we preferred. I was closer to Aaron for no reason, it certainly wasn't his driving skills. Maybe because he seemed the wilder of the two.

I asked about taking some of the driving courses but was told that wasn't something I needed. Aaron said that was to keep me calm before we went to work. And, as before, if it was at night, my eyes were covered.

Often I'd go to the bunkie and swim, work with some of the guys, a few of whom had some promise and nothing is more encouraging, especially to a man far beyond college, than to discover he had some ability. Plus there was a quiet, well equipped gym with a full time instructor who functioned as your personal trainer. He was really very good and, as he said, I gave him more than a good basis, I was already in great shape and what he wanted to know was....how did I want to look? No idea so he said we'd work around as I had time and find out what we agreed would be a good direction. No body builder shit, but a really good, hard body with enormous flexibility. Max, his name, suggested we throw in some gymnastics, maybe do some work on a trampoline-the one they had was mounted in the floor which made off and on much easier as well as safer.

Did Max know I was the sniper? Probably, he was at the facility everyday, knew lots of the men and after my shooting ability was revealed, it was an easy guess as to where in the organization I fit. He, like many others showed me a slight deference that annoyed me but.....I was in the dark side and no one really wanted to know what they assumed I knew, what I'd done. On the other hand, Max was really deeply involved in his work and given someone who wanted to work with him, he'd redouble his efforts. Didn't take too long for his efforts to begin to show. On top of what Elms had done, I was leaner, stronger, tougher. better balanced when I walked, could make maneuvers I couldn't imagine. Occasionally we'd go out for a very long run, he was one of the very few people who could do it.

Joe came with me partly out of habit but mostly because that was his base. That's where he picked up his orders, whatever equipment he needed and it provided a place away from home for us to fuck as long as we wanted. Often go to sleep with my cock up his ass. The bunks didn't really hold two men but when sort of stacked on top of one another, we could make it work.

What we also could make work was a feeling of safety. That was up to the night that Aaron tapped his hand on the door and came in. Only slightly embarrassed he told us to finish and he'd see me outside. Joe wanted to die but I knew better, after all Aaron, Sol and I had gone a few steps down the road towards men having sex with each other.

Kissing Joe on all sorts of places I told him I'd be back. Not to worry, nobody cared. went out to find Aaron patiently waiting. He apologized and I waved him off. That's when he said I was hardly the only one and, in an off hand way, said he and Sol filled some down time in pretty much the same way.

Next stop was equipment where I was kitted out in all black, Tactical Black or Tac Black,  A sort of canvas material that went into tall lace up black steel toed boots. The pants were a sort of cargo pant with a great many pockets. The tunic tucked tightly into the pants, there was a wide black leather belt to hold things together and a squared off barracks cap, in black. There was a back entrance which led to Sol in the car, also black. As with many other vehicles, it looked like a one of the many All American sedans until you listened to the engine which revealed the power. Before we took off, I was blindfolded, sat back and we were off.

Sol said to get comfortable as it was some distance and so I slipped into my sleep mode, another thing Elms had taught me without telling me he was teaching me. I woke when the car stopped and Aaron put his hand over my mouth, presumably to keep me from making a noise when I wakened. In the future, they didn't need to do that. I was handed one black glove, I'd never practiced with gloves and my relationship to the trigger pretty much meant no glove on that hand. Clearly the idea was to keep us a shadowy as possible which, where we were, presented little trouble. I thought I knew which city but this wasn't a tourist visit, we had higher purposes. All I could think was....would I get my first kill?

We stood just back of a corner shadow where we could see two men in a car. If they saw us, there was no notice as they were laughing, talking, one could gather they'd been drinking heavily. I had to shoot through the passenger window, past the first guy and nick the driver somewhere on his face, the ear, my choice, just draw a splatter of blood then catch the passenger as he exited and drop him to be picked up later. Stupid as it seems, that's just what I did. Just to fuck with him, I removed the driver's nose tip and a bit more which, they called it, made his passenger threw open the door and started down the street. Shot off part of his knee cap and, again, for the hell of it, put one in his butt that would make him bleed like a stuck pig.

For thirty seconds it was calm  then sirens, very close, plus the sound of screeching tires. Aaron, Sol and I leaned against the wall watching the action: This was better than any of the "Law and Order" shows. None of the cops seemed to look for who might have done this. The passenger was cuffed to a gurney and stuffed in an ambulance while the driver, bleeding profusely, was also cuffed, a medic did something to his nose and he was put in a squad car. Sensing the best part of it was over, we slipped back to our vehicle, quietly backed around a corner and headed for home. Sol, not driving, handed round used baseball caps which did make us look more like guys going home from a late job. Also, we wriggled out of the tunics leaving us in white T-shirts. Nondescript men in a nondescript car going home. I could do this and enjoy doing it.

I was hot and getting more and more so by the moment. My tang was about to bust through the tac black pants which meant one of two things, I was going to have to take it out, stroke it down and dirty on the floor mat or, we could pull off someplace so that I could get out and complete what I needed to do.. This was my gang and so I told them. I wasn't alone, both of them were popping wood beyond which some other recreation might be useful.

Amazing what a badge and gun will do. Not too many minutes later we found ourselves in a very large room with us stripping as fast as possible while trying to keep a hand on somebody else's hard member. First thing was to calm down and though it wasn't easy, everyone got a cock and sucked it right off. No one cared about holding back, we shot and all of us, with almost no edging, shot again. Without discussing it, we got set up for a sandwich. I fucked Aaron while Sol blew him, then we'd switch around. Everybody got everything and, over time, as many times as we wanted. If that was the initiation, I was ready to do it again.

"Sandy, you are one mutherfucker. Gotta tell ya, when Aaron and I thought we might take you, we talked a lot about what we liked to do. You know, sex after shooting."\
"Wouldn't it be good, depending on the assignment to get rid of some tension before the shooting?" They both grabbed me, laughing, rolled me on the bed so Sol, he was closest, could harden up and fuck me. On the other side, I sprang into life and took Aaron.
"Oh did we make the right choice. You're young, you're hot as a pistol and you fuck like an M-16. Shame Joe doesn't know what he's missing."

That Joe did know wasn't relevant. No way we could include him but maybe that was just as well. These two were close to understanding my desire to shoot and more than just a nose and a knee cap. Probably had the same wants but, now, they'd got a hot shot whom they had to back up. I'd make that up to them, I wasn't sure how but there would be a way.

We all sort of agreed that exhaustion had arrived and we needed to sleep. Stripped and sitting on the edge of the bed, suddenly  truly tired, we had to work out the sleeping arrangements. In my mind I had a bump of intuition so I suggested that the two guys sleep by each other and I'd take the outside. Also, next time, and there would be many next times, either get a kind size bed or two rooms. As we were drifting off, that was my suggestion and found that we were three, all together, whatever we did, from fuck to kill, we did it together.
Then it was lights out. In the future it would be a King Size bed.

My occasionally just vanishing confused and worried Purr. I always came back but she detected something different about me. She and my Dad were always the most perceptive when it came to reading me which is what happened.

Dad showed up,  unexpectedly, jock in hand, at the pool and dove in. I was lost in doing laps and didn't notice him until he put himself in the lane I was using so that I bumped into him.  One of the things about him was his warm welcome even in thirteen feet of water he managed to give me a hug before he sank. When he bobbed up we swam to the edge, slid out and lay by the pool.
"Where's Joe? On assignment? I looked in the bunkie and it looked like you were sleeping down stairs."
"Yep, he's off to somewhere, I've forgot who he's with, maybe the First Lady, she likes him and requests him when she goes overseas.

"How is it with the two of you? Still have those feelings? Still like the sex?" He smiled, " I'm your father, I get to ask those questions."
I lay my head on the cement and wondered what the answer to that question was. Sure I liked and loved him but Aaron and Sol were better at sex and excited me to a degree and in ways Joe had never achieved. I flopped over, took a breath displaying my well sculpted abs. "It's complicated....."
"So's life, yours in particular. Are we at a point where you cannot discuss this or won't."
"Can't."
He laughed, "Maybe I could get Elms to torture it out of you."
"Doubt it, Elms taught me how to resist torture." But he'd put an instant vision in my mind; Me strung up, naked, being worked over with a cat 'o nine tails, threatened with something that would impale me, my father, sitting, nude, leaning back, clapping, encouraging Elms to cut off my nuts; He was hungry.

I really wished he hadn't said that, it was exciting, almost, in my mind, erotic. To avoid showing a tang that was inflating I rolled on my stomach.
My Dad was very observant and, after all, whatever Elms had taught me, I was his son.
"Sandy, it's okay, just proves that you really understand what you're doing and that elements of it do more than just appeal to you, they get to you in ways, well, like right now. You're hard as a rock I'd guess."
I turned my head away from him; He was almost a better shot than I was. "Oh, Jesus, Dad, yeah, it gets to me. Yeah, I'm hard and....I'm a little embarrassed. I'm an adult and should have better control of myself...."
He rolled on his side. "Son, look at me."

Motherfuck, his cock was almost coming from the top of his jock. "I'm just as aroused by your being aroused as I am because I know, now, what makes you hot."
Well, that didn't really help. I knew what he was trying to do and that's why I loved him but I was still laying face down on the concrete too embarrassed to show my own father a perfectly natural thing that happens to men.

"Come on, head for the bunkie, time for some father/son shared experience." He paused as he walked, me following, trying to hold my hand where it was most concealing while he was strolling along, cock partially out, sharing a moment with his son.

"We could have and should have done this before. Absolutely no shame, I'm your Dad, remember? I've seen you naked...how many times? In the locker room before swim meets, I'd almost have to remind you to put on your jock and then remind you that a suit goes over it."

His jock was on the floor, his hand casually on his meat while he leaned back on Joe's bunk. It took me a moment but then I pulled mine off, my dick, relieved to be no longer under pressure, swung out and up. Dad was stroking his like a man who will come, and enjoy it, but is also enjoying something intangible, something he could do with his son that no one else could. I began to relax, internally, but my crotch was a testament to growing to empty myself.

"If I've got the time, like I do now, I usually squirt the first one out pretty quickly, lean back, relax and then go for the really good one, the second time when you have to work for it, your body fights you but wants to give in, your abdomen contracts, you can't stay still....."

I was panting slightly, it was like listening to audio porn but this was real, this was the two of us, father and son, slowly jacking off and liking it. "Yeah, two's a good number, not a goal, easy to get to but....better than just one. Makes a man sleep better or so I find."

He began to cream as opposed to shooting. Made a sort of well with his jacking hand and caught his cum as it oozed out. There was a pause then a big load. He looked at me, smiled, his hand that held his man stream looked almost silvery in the low light. He held his hand a bit above his mouth and slowly let it drool into his mouth.

I could not help myself, I leaned over and licked his hand which he then put around me, pulled me to him. Just then I let fly and, kind of the same thing, I hadn't the foresight to make a container but had to lick it off my fingers. Dad leaned down and licked my chest where part of it had landed.

"Well, I think makes us bound, really father and son, bonded by our own juices. Beats being blood brothers all to hell." I leaned against him, as calm as I'd been since....some while back. I knew it would go no further but where it had got us was further than most fathers and their sons even dream of traveling.

It was comfortable, just leaning against his big chest, feeling the hair and a hard nipple on my back. I felt he needed something of mine, some connection but the way we were, not possible. Maybe this was right, son leaning on father. For whatever reason, I relaxed against him, he lay on the bed, part of me on his chest and....I went to sleep.

Only a few minutes passed, I could hear his low growling chuckle-I think he learned that from Purr-as an arm went around my chest and he kissed the back of my head. Silent tears of happiness flowed down my cheeks, fell on my chest and onto his arm. He had to notice but neither did nor said anything, just held me a little closer. Time passed in the semi-darkness, even the usual noise from outside diminished.

I didn't know why I said it but I noted that Joe was gone for who knows how long, if he wanted to bunk in for the night......and I faded the sentence.
"I'll do that, thanks for asking. I'm guessing this is Joe's bunk...."

The thought of him being there, wanting to be there turned me on, maybe did him as well. He leaned back, stretched the big, relaxing stretch then said, "Time for round two?"

He took the two chairs from the opposing desks and set them opposite each. He sat in one and, it was obvious, I was to be in the other one, facing him. He stretched his legs out, leaned back the small amount the chair would allow then picked up his cock which had already figured out what was going to happen and was getting ready. Opposite him, I did about the same. It was easier for me to get comfortable only because I was more limber. My meat was also getting ready for my hand.

"No contest, son, I just want us to look at each other, follow our emotions in our eyes, watch our bodies as we get near climax, follow each other's eyes......." He was slowly stroking, as casually as you might pet, well, Purr. I almost started out too ambitiously but quickly realized that the slow, repetitious flow of the skin covering the meat felt better when it didn't seem like it was going to be ripped off.

No clock, just the look in each other's eyes as we slowly manipulated that most prized organ of man up and down, up and down....I could see his balls draw up as were mine, a good sign that we were closing in on the big prize, man sperm flowing from us. I could see him starting to breath in spurts, squirming, his abdomen spasming, sweat flowing....he was holding back, trying to slow down but it wasn't possible, in one massive cascade he shot covering part of me and the floor. I reached over, I couldn't resist, and gave his balls a slap which got the last of him out. He collapsed, looking like one happy father, proud of himself just waiting for the pleasure of seeing his son do the same.

I leaned back, got a good grip for I was going to give myself the hard, fast jerk. Almost tear my little bit of foreskin off. My body twisted, my butt clinched, my abs almost made a ten pack,  the good, deep feeling as your prostate adds the final note, my meat covered itself with gravy while I, too, slumped in a chair.

It took a while but we finally looked at each other, both had that shit eating grin of two school boys who've done something and got away with it. He rubbed his chest with what he wiped off me, tasting it first, then picking one nipple and lathering it with my cum.

I never could have expected it....he turned the sperm covered breast toward me, indicated I should sit on his lap and suckle my own milk from my own father. Did he know that he was getting hard, that the head of his cock was playing with my ass? I doubt it. He was so into the moment of the ultimate in father and son experience that he was oblivious, even to the fact that I had hardened up as well. In the dark, on his lap, my head turned to his breast, eating my own cum was erotic in a way no two men who weren't intimately related could know or understand. There were no consequences, no guilt, just the overwhelming proof that we loved each other.

Hours later, after a long, hot shower, we crawled into the bunks, tired, happy, together. I wished I could sleep beside him just to be with him but,....bunkies didn't permit that.

Dad left the next morning, he remembered breakfast from the first time. What confused me was that he wore the blues that we all did. Also took his street clothes.

I was left with nothing to do so I wandered over to the gym where Max, their on premises gym teacher and personal trainer for those who wanted one. And I did.

Max liked having someone to work with who wanted to improve and took what he said and demonstrated seriously and repeated it. We'd talked about the body I wanted and both agreed the body builder body wasn't for me. He also felt that I would gain from investing some time in gymnastics which I did as well as their trampoline. As with my swimming and running, I could spend hours in the gym save that Max put time limits on me. At first it had been subtle and then it was very apparent....the strong chest, the ripped abdomen, the thin waist, large calves and thighs, good biceps, forearms and yet....in my clothes I just looked healthy, like a man who has taken care of himself. Although the three didn't know it, Joe, Aaron and Sol had all admired it on those occasions when they saw me without my clothes.

It had been a long time but I finally found a way to slip away to visit Elms.

He was glad to see me, gave me a hug, pulled me into what I remembered as almost home. Made me strip, handed me a loin cloth and almost instantly I had the same rapport as months ago when I'd left. We squatted down, looked at each other then I rolled backward, pulled the cloth away and offered him my ass.

It was hard, intense, painful and long. That cocksucker knew how to fuck a man like no one else I knew. Almost like a dog knots their cock once their inside the bitch, he could almost do that so you couldn't expel him until he was ready. And he wasn't ready for a long time.

I fell over, exhausted, sperm spilling out of my butt which wasn't being collected to add to a meal. He put leather cuffs on my wrists, a tall leather collar around my neck and bound my ankles like my wrists. Rolled me on my back, looked at me, picked up a whip saying, "I know why you're here. You came to find out how to accept pain and, maybe, how to give it. It turns you on, right now, after a good fucking you're cock is rising up." He took good aim and let my penis catch the whip while I screamed in honest agony.

"Good, now you're learning what real pain is, it's fear mixed with pain, you know I could take this and cut off your dick first and then your balls. Fear and pain. You don't experience true pain unless you're afraid in your gut, in your nuts, it's the fear not of being left not a man but of dying as not a man. You want to kill a man and get your biggest thrill, spread eagle him, nail him down, flick off his dick and balls with a whip then shoot his face off. You can do it, I know you and you're ability at excess, like the day in the pond with the ice."

He came at my organ from the other side. I was close to passing out from the pain but something kept me up and with him, anticipating whether he would kill me. Once before he'd almost sliced off his nuts and would've  taken mine but today was not about power and domination, this was his enjoying the pain he was inflicting as I knew I would enjoy it.

"Ever play mumbly peg?" He took out a pig sticker knife and begin to toss it in the air. It would hit the ground near me. Each time nearer still. He was building up my fear, not for the pain that was coming, but for the fear of what he might do.

He flipped it particularly high, stepped back and let it pin my nuts to the ground. No damage, just caught an edge, only a little blood which he bent down and licked. Also grabbed my dick and mercilessly jacked it off. When I came he sat back, smiled at me and said nothing. Pulling the knife up, he took my foreskin and pulled it, two very short cuts, he also licked the blood and leaned back.

"Son, you've just been notched for your first kill." Stay where you are for a while, think, come to an understanding with yourself that lets you do what you fucking well please no matter the consequences. May end up getting life or execution but whatever you did, you'll not regret it like you'll never regret anything again." He threw cold water on me and walked away.

Why I wanted my loin cloth I don't know but, after the punishing had passed, I wanted to cover myself, to not let him see the shame he'd inflicted. But in the back of my mind was the question, "Would he do it again?" I knew I wanted it but only from him. For all others, I'd hold the whip hand, the knife, the hammer whatever I needed to put fear and pain in those that needed it. I remembered the jerk in the car when his nose tip was shot off; No idea what happened but the fear of what might happen next and the pain, just what Elms said. The other fool, the one who jumped and ran forgot what I knew; He opened himself to whomever was out there and he found out what happens to people who are dumb.

Being staked out was a privilege, it meant I'd done something to deserve even if I wasn't sure what.

It was getting dark, I could see the stars begin to shine, not all at once but more and more as darkness overtook us.

I pissed on myself and was getting thirsty. Elms came out, sniffed, pissed on me himself then took a bucket of cold water, rinsed me off then dripped water oh so slowly for me to drink.
"Wanta get up?"
I shook my head no. He smiled and said, "Right answer".
A few minute later he returned with some strips of heavy leather. One went over my eyes and was nailed to the ground. A smaller one held my nuts in place and the last was wound around my cock then pulled out from me then staked out with a nail.
The gag was last, one of his carvings, made like a male scrotum. Needed nothing to hold it in, you couldn't eject it.

I heard him going away, the sound of something shutting and I was prepared for the night.

Nor did he let me up the next day. I pissed several times but since my cock was tied down and pointed away from me, no mess, no smell. I got water sparingly and was then left alone.

It was that night when he released me very slowly. When I was completely free I found I could not really move. Almost as if my limbs had atrophied. Elms picked me up, took me inside, carefully rubbed me all over with a kind of liniment that smelled like a cross between Mentholatum and mens' sweat. He said nothing nor did I. As he rubbed my chest and abdomen, he admired the work that had been done and complimented whoever trained me into developing muscles that were useful not ones that just looked good with a coat of oil above a Speedo. He could always relax me completely which is what he did..