My name’s Seth, and this is my story. I’m 26 and decent looking (or at least I think). Short hair (left over from my Marine days) and a decent build (also left over from my Marine days). Although I admit I’m starting to develop a little bit of a beer gut. I work from home as a commuter geek, which is all to say that I have a lot of time on my hands as my job is not that hard. Answer a few emails, a few calls, and just follow the manual for their machine. If it still wasn’t fixed, send them to level 2, done! I live on the outskirts of town in a small home that I rent that has a little bit of land to it. After I got out of the corps I wanted a nice quiet life and ended up here in the south. I’m originally from Jersey suburbs surrounded by nosy neighbors so this is a nice change for me.
It was a standard Friday night, which usually involved me sitting at home watching some tv and sipping on a cold beer. This evening, however, I got a call from a few friends, John and Ben, who wanted to have a night on the town… I hated nights on the town because they always involved my friends getting a little too drunk and going off with whatever fresh piece of meat they found that night and me getting stuck with the tab, but I decided to go anyway as it was a while since I actually left the apartment.
Finished my beer and got dressed. I knew it was gonna be a long night. It always was with them. I decided to wear a pair of my old wrangler jeans, they were the most comfortable and I figured if I had to put up with their drunk asses that I would at least be comfortable while I did it. I put on a plain plaid shirt and decided against any cologne. I was 5’11” and still looked pretty good. I had that bit of a beer gut going on but didsn’t bother me. “Approaching that dad bod status,” I chuckled to myself. I was never one to get real flashy, didn’t like all the attention that came with it.
We decided to go to this little hole in the wall bar, for which I was thankful. I hated those dance clubs with loud music where you needed to scream into someone’s ear just to have a conversation. It was a small place called Lucky’s, it had a dirt parking lot and an old wooden sign that had definitely seen better days. As usual, I was the first one there, John and Ben having made being late an art form. I decided to walk into the bar. Much like the outside there wasn’t much to see: a few dart boards on the walls and pictures of nights long ago. Right in front of me was the bar with a few tables spread out across the floor, except for a square space that I imagined was used for a dance floor. There were a few people already here sitting at the bar. They looked like they had been there for years.
I walked over to the bar and ordered a beer. The bartender introduced himself as Jack and gave me a nice firm handshake.
“So what brings you out tonight?” Jack asked.
“Nothing much. My buddies wanted to go out and forced me out. Just thankful this isn’t some night club that would leave me with a pounding headache before I had a drink.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, you’re not gonna find that around here.” He handed me my beer. “That one is on me,” he said as he walked away.
As I moved away I could see him checking me out. “Shit” I said under my breath. I knew John and Ben were gay and it didn’t bother me. I had gone out with them before to gay bars and it was okay. I mean, they made great wingmen. Although that hadn’t helped me seal the deal much recently, and by recently, I mean over 6 months. John and Ben did make it easier to talk to women, but that’s about where it ended. I could tell tonight was not gonna be my lucky night, even if the place was called Lucky’s.
I found a dimly lit table out of the way although I didn’t think that would matter; it didn’t seem like this place would get very crowded anyway. It was almost 11:30 by the time John and Ben decided to show up. The bar had a few people in it now and the music got turned up a bit but it still wasn’t what I would call crowded.
I waved John and Ben over to the table where I was sitting. “Hey guys, took you long enough to get here.”
“Oh shut up, Seth, I had to get cute,” said Ben. Ben was a 5’8” bean pole. John made fun of him for it and called him a twink. He was wearing skin-tight jeans that were bedazzled on the back pockets and a black fishnet shirt. He was the youngest one out of all of us at 23. He was handsome, I guess. Older men seemed to like him quite a bit. He had dirty blond hair and a soft round face. I don’t think he could grow facial hair if he tried. His shirt left nothing to the imagination and I could see his small perky nipples against his flat chest.
“Ben, why did you bother putting on a shirt at all? I’ve seen strippers wear more clothing.”
“Well, it’s not for you, Seth, it’s for all the hungry men around you.”
I just snickered and sipped my beer.
I was two shots of whiskey and three beers in at this point. I had a nice buzz going on. I asked against my better judgment, “If Ben’s a twink, what the hell does that make you, John?”
Ben looked at me and said, “A has-been.” John scowled at Ben. I just laughed. If anything they were good entertainment.
“I’m what the community calls a bear.” John was a decent looking guy, about 6’ and a little bit bigger than most but wore it well. He was 30 years old and had a nice beard going. He wore a light button down that was open up to expose his hairy chest.
“I’m afraid to ask,” I said.
He pulled up his shirt, exposing his very hairy torso. “Jesus Christ, John, folks could get lost in there,” I teased, pulling back a bit. “That’s disgusting.” He had the thickest and darkest hair on his chest and stomach I had ever seen in my life and that was saying something.
John laughed. “You know you love it.”
I raised my beer. “Hey if it works for you,” I said, and took a sip. “So. If you’re a twink,” I went on, pointing at Ben with my beer, “and you’re a bear,” now with my bottle pointing at John, “What does that make me?”
John and Ben both look at each other. Ben spoke up first. “I don’t know. Why don’t you stand up and lift that shirt up?”
I chuckled. “You just wanna see me shirtless don’t you?”
“Not the point. You want to know or not?” Ben said jokingly.
I finished my beer and stood up and lifted my shirt up with one hand to my chest. “There. Ya happy?” I laughed out loud. I could see the bartender look over and give me a wink.
“Otter,” Ben said instantly. “You agree John?”
“Yup, definitely an otter.”
I sat back down. “You guys got too many names,” I said laughing. “I’m so glad I’m not gay—I would be so lost.”
We continued to bullshit at the table for another hour. Before I knew it, the bar started to get crowded. Looks like I was wrong about it being a slow kind of place, but at least it wasn’t loud. Both John and Ben took to the dance floor as they saw their target for the night.
I walked to the bar to get another beer, but when turned back to walk words the table and a group of people nabbed it. “Shit.” I just took a seat at the bar.
It was almost 1 a.m. when I looked at the dance floor and John and Ben both gave me the signal. I raised my beer and smirked at them. “At least they’re getting some tonight,” I said under my breath watching as they gathered their things and walked out of the bar.
The bartender came back around. “I guess your friends left.”
“Yeah, It was their turn to get some tail,” I said.
“What? Nothing here that strikes your fancy?” Jack asked.
I laughed. “Not really. I’m partial to the female persuasion.”
Jack laughed. “Well, shoot. Oh well, had to ask, you know?”
By this time I was pretty drunk and gave him an overexaggerated wink as I raised my beer to my lips.
He smiled and jokingly punched me in my shoulder. “Tease.”
The bar started to die down after a while as people started to pair off and leave. I looked around the room and I saw this guy walk in.
Dude looked like he just came straight from a construction site. He was wearing a pair of worn out jeans with what looked like concrete and dirt stains down the front of them. The steel toe of his boots was clearly exposed and the boots were covered in orange dirt. The worn red plaid sleeves of his button-down were rolled up exposing his tanned skin. Hell, he still a tape measure attached to his waistband. He looked like one of those Greek gods in the doorway—he had to be at least 6’2 and I would say he was probably in his early 30’s and in very fine shape. His biceps and triceps were huge and had some hair covering them. He almost looked like a gorilla with all the muscle and hair. He had a well-shaped beard without a hair out of place, not too long but I could tell it was dense from here. He wore a grey fitted baseball cap that clearly never left his head. Even in the dark room, you could see the sweat stains on the brim where it met his forehead. The fabric on the front of the brim was starting to wear exposing what was inside. His eyes were a deep blue that really stuck out form his light tan complexion. Actually it was a little redder than tan. He was clearly balding under that hat—I could see the shine from here. “At least I’m not the only one,” I thought to myself.
The man sat next to me at the bar. “Seth,” I said, and offered my hand for a handshake.
“Derek,” he said in a deep gravelly voice tinged with a southern accent. I gave him the firmest handshake I could, meaning it as a sign that I wasn’t interested in him. He smirked and waved the bartender down.
“What you having,” asked Jack.
“Double shot of whiskey with a beer chaser.”
“Comin’ right up.”
“Hard day?” I ask.
“You know how it is, same shit different day.”
The bartender came back and set Derek’s drinks down in front of him. He downed the double and took a sip of his beer. I could smell his sweat. It wasn’t anything new to me after being in the Marine and working out with large groups of men. It was something that I had gotten used to long ago, although he smelt a little different. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I could tell that his chest was staining the buttons on his shirt. This dude must be ripped, I couldn’t see an ounce of fat on him. I looked down at my growing dad bod. I was feeling a little emasculated, but didn’t let it show.
“I didn’t know you guy worked so late,” I said, assuming that he worked in construction.
“The foreman is riding my ass to get this project done,” Derek said conversationally. “Typically I don’t, but we have some new kid who can’t tell his ass hole from a hole in the ground. So I’m stuck cleaning up his messes.”
We talked some more. Nothing crazy, mostly talk about our friends and trading crazy stories about drinking and getting drunk. About three doubles and three beers in we were pretty hammered.
I ordered us a double whiskey with a beer back. “Cheers!” Derek toasted, lifting his whiskey. We downed it together.
“I gotta take a piss,” I said. “Where the bathroom in this place?” As I got up I tripped and Derek caught me with his left arm like I was as light as air. I could feel the veins in his forearms and the thick hair that covered them, from days of hard work no doubt.
“All right, buddy, let me help you out,” Derek said, helping me to the back.
“You better not make a mess in there I gotta clean that up,” warned Jack.
I looked up at Derek. He looked like a mountain and seemed to be practically carrying me to the bathroom.
“Guess I’m drunker than I thought,” I said.
“You think?” he chuckled jokingly.
There were only two urinals and Derek propped me up at the first one. I put my forearm on the wall and rested my head on it as I undid my fly. Derek took the one next to me. With no divider, we could easily see each other’s cocks. I was looking down as I was too drunk to stand on my own, or even hold my head up. Derek undid his fly, the dude was huge! At least 10 inches soft and as thick as my forearm. I had seen a lot of dick in my life but this dude’s was by far the largest and thickest. It definitely matched his frame, veiny and thick hair at the base of his shaft. He had a little bit of a bush going on. Jesus, how hairy was this guy? His arms, cock, even his hands were hairy. He puts John to shame, I thought to myself. I got a whiff of his musk again. It was so potent I thought I might pass out.
“Holy shit, Derek, your cock is huge,” I blurted out as we let loose, unable not to say something about it in my inebriated state. “What the hell do you do with that thing? I bet you split women in half,” I joked, looking down at my average 6” cut cock.
“Whatever the hell I want, boy,” Derek said with a smirk as he pissed like a racehorse. “It’s one of the perks of being an alpha male.” He finished whizzing finally and shook the last few drops of piss out his cock.
We got back to the bar and I ordered two more doubles and a beer for both of us.
“All right, gentlemen time for me to close up,” Jack said.
Derek looked at me and asked, “How ya’ gett’n home, boy?”
I was slurring every word out my mouth. “I took a taxi.”
“You’re not going to find one of those this late at night around here,” Jack said.
“Shit,” I said as I finished my beer.
Derek laughed. “I got a sofa if you wanna crash at my place for the night.”
“Aw, man, thanks.”
“All right, my place is just around the block,” he said as he put my arm around his shoulder and his hand on the opposite side to steady me. I could smell his armpits. They were strong, and a little damp. His pit moisture started to dampen my shirt.
“So what did you do before construction?” I asked.
“I was a gunny in the Marine Corps.”
I laughed. “Semper fi.”
He looked down “You too, I guess,” he said. I could see shimmers of his jet-black beard in the moonlight as we walked the block to his house.
Before I could say anything, we had arrived at his place. It was a small apartment that was pretty empty. Couch, coffee table, and a TV sitting on an entertainment center. The dining room, if you could call it that, had a small table with two chairs that connected an even smaller kitchen to the living room. It was all open and not much of anything else going on. It was almost exactly what I’d have pictured for him.
He plopped me down bodily on the sofa. “Well, thanks for letting me down easy,” I joked.
“Oh, I’m not letting you down,” he said with a smirk.
What an odd thing to say, I thought.
He pulled his boots off and placed them by the door. I guessed the laundry room was right by the front door because he came out wearing just his boxers.
This dude was bigger than I thought he was in the bar. His pecs stuck out from his body, casting a shadow on his abs from the overhead lighting. The skin over them was so tight that his nipples pointed downward. His thick black hair all over his pecks continued down to his 8 pack. The hair got denser in the valleys that his muscles made, which kind of drew my attention. His traps and lats give his body a hard V shape that I was sure all the girls drooled over. His legs and calves were just like the rest of him, huge and hard with a decent amount of hair.
“You mind if I get comfortable, gunny?” I asked. I could smell his musk all over me from him practically carrying me to his apartment.
“Whatever, man, get comfortable.”
I took off my clothes and left my boxers on. Why did I still smell like him? I must have asked for some water or something because he brought over a bottle and told me to drink. It was water but it had a slightly yellow tint to it. I took a long swig.
“What the hell is in this? It tastes great!”
“It’s got a little bit of my piss in it,” he said as he chuckled.
“You ass, no it doesn’t,” I said as I finished the bottle.
He smiled. “Sure. How’s that, better?” he asked.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said.
“I thought you would like that.” I just nodded. I was so thirsty I didn’t care what I was drinking.
“You aren’t that smart are you boy?” he asked.
It took me a little bit of time to pick things up, that was true, but I got it in the end… most of the time. When I was in the corps I always found it best to tell gunnys the truth. It was usually a lot less painful in the long run. “Not really gunny. It takes me a few but I get it done.”
He sat on the coffee table, which I’d have sworn would break under his massive frame but it held steady.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Drunk but pretty good, relaxed,” I said. Why was he asking? I thought. He laid me down on the sofa with the pillow under my head. This was starting to get weird. Then he took both my hands put them over my head. I started to struggle but he simply put his knee on my chest and tied a rope around my wrist and then the leg of the sofa. I struggled and started to kick but it was no use he tied my legs down to at the ankles like he did my wrists.
“What the hell are you doing, Derek?”
There I was my body fully exposed, the little hair on my chest and stomach matted down from sweat struggling to get out of these ropes. He sat there and simply laughed.
“Just relax boy, you’re going to be fine.” Shockingly I believed him and relaxed.
“Wha… what are you doing to me?”
“Nothing. The better question is what do you want me to do with you, boy?” The question startled me because, again, I believed him and somehow I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. All I had to do was say, “Nothing, I just wanna sleep,” and he would have let me.
“I’m straight,” is all that came out.
“How ‘bout this, boy, I’ll ask you a few questions and you can’t lie to me… is that fair? If you do lie to me I’ll give you a beating you’ll never forget.” He held my gaze and asked, “What’s your name?”
I decided to test him to see if he was full as shit. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know, I was drunk. “Rumpelstiltskin,” I said.
He hit me so hard in my ribs I could feel the bruise already forming.
“Wanna try that again, wise ass?”
“Seth, my name is Seth. Goddamit, that hurt.”
I could feel the sting from where he hit me and although it hurt, my cock stirred. What the hell is wrong with me? I thought to myself. Derek didn’t seem to notice. He was looking at my face very intently.
“Did it?” he asked.
“It did but it kinda feels good now.” What…? Why the hell did I say that? What’s wrong with me?
Derek just smiled. He got up and walked to the fridge and pulled out a syringe that was full of some type of fluid.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked.
“No,” I replied.
“Do you care what it is?”
“No.” What why the hell did I say that? Of course I cared… didn’t I?
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” What? All I wanted was to get out of here, or at least I thought I did.
“Once this goes in you, there’s no turning back. Consider that your first and final warning. Do you have any questions, boy?”
I had a ton of questions but I was too drunk to put them in any order. “Why am I saying the opposite of what I want? What the hell does it do?” is all that came out.
“A drunk man tells the sober truth, boy.” He ignored the second question completely “You want it or not, boy?”
“Will it hurt?” What was I saying? I didn’t want whatever was in that thing.
I laid there on his couch just looking up at him for several minutes. I couldn’t look away from his eyes, they were piercing my soul but they also were comforting me.
“Are you happy in your current life?”
“No.” What?!?! Of course I was. I had a nice apartment with an easy job that paid the bills… but I had to admit I was lonely and I had no direction or guidance since I left the corps.
“What did you just think about?” he asked. My face must have given it away I was never very good at keeping my emotions off of my face.
I thought about lying again but decided against it and that it would be better to be as honest with him as he was with me.
“I was thinking how I’m was lonely and that I haven’t had any direction or guidance since I left the corps.”
“What was your rank?”
“Lance Corporal, gunny.”
“Do you want that back, boy?”
“Want what back, gunny?”
“Order, discipline, someone to tell you what to do, how to do it, and when to do it?”
“Desperately, gunny. Everything out here in the civilian sector is bull shit. People do what they want when they want to do it with no common goal. They lie, steal, cheat and are just an all-around pain in the ass to deal with. I want more, I wanna serve something. I want a higher purpose in life. I want an easier life.”
Gunny looked at me with a little bit of pity. “You really are broken aren’t you, boy?”
“Yes, gunny, I feel as if I haven’t found my place yet.”
“What’s in here will let me transform you, boy. Are you ready for that? I will push you farther than anyone has ever pushed you before. I can give you structure and discipline and as you can see from the bruise on your side I not afraid to put you back in line. I can give you, stability, purpose, and that sense of belong that you have been looking for.”
“Gunny, I liked it when you hit me.” Why the hell did I tell him that? Did I actually like it?
“I know you did, boy, I saw your boxers move.”
“Last question, gunny, I swear.”
“What, boy?” I could tell he was growing impatient with me.
“Can you untie me, gunny? I won’t run. I’ll take it willingly.” I swear I’m at a loss where was all this coming from? Have I always felt this way?
Gunny looked at me with a confused look on his face. “Boy, you know if you try to run or put up a fight that you will lose?”
I simply nodded.
He picked up his Bowie knife that was next to him on the table and cut both the ropes to my hands and feet. I wanted to run and scream for help but instead, something inside me just held out my arm.
“I’m ready, gunny.”
Gunny took it and cleaned a small area of my arm with alcohol and put the syringe in and slowly pushed the plunger all the way down.
“Lay down, boy. I’ll see you in the morning when you wake up.”
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