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Dragging Zeus by his pajama sleeve felt weird. But I was afraid if I let go, he'd go back to his bunk. We reached the rec room down the corridor where we found the rest of the guys. Wanker was still in the showers the other way. The other platoons in our company were still out so we had the place all to ourselves. We found out later that our Lieutenant and Sarge had gotten reprimanded for sending us out without gear. Sucks to be them, I guess.
"Assmunch! There you are! Where's our bitch?" Bootlicker yelled.
"Well he's not in my ass, but you're welcome to come take a look." I shot back.
"I'll be doing the looking with my dick, you sure you can take it?" He boasted.
"That little carrot? I've had shits bigger than your sad little pecker, Bootlicker. I won't even feel it." I dropped drawers and bent over. "If you want to embarrass yourself, bring it over. "
"Footling, go teach Assmunch a lesson." Bootlicker pushed Footlong towards me. I couldn't get my boxers back up fast enough, which made everyone laugh.
Suddenly everyone noticed Zeus behind me. They all froze, going quiet.
"Zeus is going to help me set things up while Wanker finishes up. You should all say thank you to Zeus for cleaning your boots." I told them. "He doesn't get down here often, so give him some brotherly love."
The idiots just stared.
Channeling my best Sarge impression, I yelled in a voice of gravel "THAT WASN'T A REQUEST GRUNTS!"
Everyone spoke over each other. "Thanks Zeus!" ; "Thank you for cleaning my boots, Zeus!" ; and even "We love you brother, you didn't have to do that".
Then someone started a chant. "Zeus! Zeus! Zeus!" Carrying on for a good minute.
Zeus looked embarrassed. "C'mon Zeus, let's go get supplies" and we went through one of the other doors to our stash. We knew Sarge probably knew about it, but looked the other way.
I grabbed a sleeve of the cheap styrofoam cups, and a grey rubber trash can and told Zeus to take them to the rec room. Myself, I got a second bin and went to get ice. Before I left I said "Zeus, in that closet over there, behind the crates on the left wall there's an unsecured panel. Inside that is the beer and liquor. Take all of it."
"Okay Andr... I mean Assmunch."
"There's a lot, so just get one of the other guys to help. If Wanker is back, get him to do it. If not, don't ask someone, tell them to do it. They won't argue, trust me."
I went for the ice.
Zeus went back to the rec room and deposited the stuff.
"Brickmann, I need your help." Zeus said, singling out a brother standing with Puta and Troll.
"What?" Brickmann said.
Zeus just gazed at him, those eyes drilling into the smaller, blonde soldier. Zeus's face was placid, carved out of stone. Nothing about the way he stood or looked said he was happy, nor angry. But even so, a potential danger radiated from him. Zeus exuded threat and power just standing there breathing, wearing puppy dog pajamas. It would have been funny if anyone was brave enough to point out the joke. "Demon come with me." He repeated, taking the advice Assmunch had given him.
Demon, was only smaller in comparison to Zeus and Sleeper. Almost 6 feet in height, he had a body like a swimmer, all shoulders and arms, narrow waist, a minimal ass that tapered into decent but unremarkable legs. His dirty blonde hair stuck up at random tangled points just an inch above his head. Demon never actually combed his hair unless he was in Class A's. He just mashed it down with his patrol cap or his brain bucket. Demon was one of those who went balls to the wall regardless of what the activity or task was. If you were in his way, you got trampled or pushed aside. On the training courses he just threw himself onto every obstacle as if he were indestructible. And maybe he was, because he never got injured. If you were taking a position, he was out front, dodging, rolling, skidding, diving, damn near flying. He was a fucking demon. Bouncing off some object to redirect, I swear he moved horizontally like he was just running on the ground. And he was impossible to track, you couldn't guess his direction from his trajectory or movement, position of his feet, nothing. That old fighting trick where you watch the hips to read where your opponent would be, useless with Demon. You never put Demon on point, because there was no holding him back. Troll was his minder, tasked with keeping Demon in position. Troll would just grab him by his OTV and say "Stay, Demon. Stay. Good boy." Demon would huff but stay. You didn't have a chance in hell of getting out of Troll's grip. And Troll wasn't anything special. Just a 5'8" 180 lb. fire hydrant with a low center of gravity and feet that couldn't be dislodged from the earth. Troll was the only guy Sleeper couldn't dominate in hand to hand combat Ives. He couldn't move him or throw him. Sleeper's only play with Troll was to lift him off the ground, and even then Troll found some way to make it difficult for Sleeper to put him down and pin him. He was an immovable mountain. A mountain just 5'8" tall. The perfect Demonmaster. It helped that the two of them were best friends, literal opposites, but matched perfectly in complement. Where Demon was fast, bouncing around like a ping pong ball, running hot like a V-8 going 100 mph, Troll was solid, slow, deliberate and predictable, cool and deep like glacial fjord. The most common order given to the two of them was "Troll, you're demonmaster until we reach this point, the let the Demon loose. Demon, secure this location here. We'll be along after."
Demon didn't say another word, just fell in behind Zeus. They soon had the alcohol laid out, and no one was waiting for me to get back with the ice, already pouring shots. Sleeper just grabbed a beer and drank it warm.
I returned, dragging my tub filled with ice, cokes, and other drinks from the mess. I had to get Zeus to help me carry it inside. Well, I say help... he just lifted the whole damn thing like it weighed a couple pounds.
Of course, that was when Wanker finally showed up. Wearing basketball shorts. Limping. Of course the guys were going to give him shit.
The party went well, no fights, probably because everyone was exhausted, which was good. Wanker played his part, really overdoing it with the subservience thing but it kept the brothers happy and off his ass. I did have to put a stop to Bootlicker ordering Wanker to drop trou and give him 20. I told him his privilege had been revoked tonight because of the shampoo dispenser incident. That Wanker hadn't ratted him out to Sarge, so in return the bitch didn't have to follow his orders.
Bootlicker actually seemed sorry, which was probably an act. But he didn't escalate it. I carried weight with the brothers for some reason. As platoon leader I was always the one they came to with a problem, or for advice, or just to bitch and moan. The Army calls that leadership, but swear to God I didn't do anything special. Now, just because you were made Platoon Leader didn't automatically mean your guys would follow you unconditionally. But the Bravos did, I didn't have the kind of problems the other Platoon Leaders had in the Company. I was just me. When I made a rule, called a halt to something, or made a decision they just fell in line. Maybe it was because Sleeper was my best friend, and they knew he'd back me up. Whatever. I didn't abuse their trust, my only goal was everyone's well-being.
As the guys stumbled back to their bunks, drunk and happy, I helped Wanker clean up and remove all the evidence we were ever there. Zeus sat over in a corner looking happy. He didn't drink, just had water all night. I think he had fun just being in the same room with everyone else.
"Is now a good time, Wanker?" I asked, not forgetting my promise from earlier. Besides, I needed to get it done, and get him and Zeus to bed so Sleeper could get his fix.
"Yeah. Where?" He asked.
"Either the latrine or storage room. We can have Zeus stand guard." I suggested.
"Yeah, then the storage room. He can be at the end of the hallway, so he can't hear anything."
"He'd keep it quiet even if he did. Zeus doesn't say much."
"Okay. Let's do this." He said walking down the corridor.
"Zeus, you mind standing guard over here? Don't let anyone in."
The big man got to his feet. "Sure Assmunch. Whatever you want."
He didn't even ask why. Just did what I asked.
In the storage room with the door closed, Wanker took a deep breath.
"Alright, pull em down, buddy." I told him.
Wanker pulled down the basketball shorts, and his underwear. I saw just a tiny bit of pinkish blood mixed with a wet area that was probably Sergeant Charlie's cum.
"You weren't lying, I think his cum is still coming out. There's only a little blood though, which is good."
"Still? I even farted out more in the shower. How much cum could he possibly have shot up there? Fuck my life." Wanker complained.
"Well, bend over, let me see your hole." He obediently laid his chest on the crate in front of him and I spread his cheeks apart.
"Well, your asshole looks a bit swollen, a bit red, but there's no damage outside that I can see." I reported. "You do have a different asshole than Sleeper though, so that might be normal. I haven't seen a lot of assholes up close and personal though. But yours looks like what I'd expect, minus the redness and slight swelling.
Wanker breathed deeply again. "Can you... check inside? It feels different in there. And if there's no damage outside, what about the blood?"
"There's not much blood at all in your shorts, buddy. Your ass would be like any other part of your body. A big wound would bleed a lot. A small cut, only a little. Seems like you only got tore up a little." Kneeling behind him it was a little hard to see, too many shadows. Hop up and sit on the crate. I need you to lift your legs and spread em."
He did as he was told. But just bent at the knee with his thighs poking straight up.
"More, grab behind your knees an pull them to either side of your chest." I showed him how Sleeper did it so I could have full, deep access to his hole, get my tongue as far up inside him as he needed. Of course, I didn't tell him that. Thoughts of Sleeper and our weekly appointment started my dick rising. Fuck. Well Zeus would keep him busy until I was done here.
"That's it. Breathe. Relax." I gently moved my hands on his cheeks, trying to be soothing while I took another look. "Can you push out a little? Just like, relax and try to fart, just a little. ". I saw his puffy hole unclench, just kind of spread a little and push outward. He moaned a bit.
"Does that feel better?" I asked.
"God, yeah, it does. Why?"
"You're probably clenched too tight unconsciously, because of what happened. And you're worried about blood and cum spilling out, would be my guess. There can't be that much left. Just relax, let it go, it's okay." I encouraged him.
My hands still rubbing his cheeks, I moved my thumbs to his hole and started massaging it. He moaned again. "That's it buddy, you're doing great. Just completely relax, I got you bro. Don't worry about what might come out. Don't push hard, just relax into it." My thumbs we're still pressing, rubbing, pulling apart, basically manipulating his asshole to gradually relax. A glob of whitish liquid appeared. I used it to continue to work his hole.
"Uuuunnnggghhhh, that feels so good." He said, and I could see every part of him go limp. Pain brings tension, pleasure brings relaxation. I think I just figured out what Wanker needed. Trouble was, if I told him, I'd be volunteered. Which might be a problem for me. I just didn't know if I could do it. First, I sure wasn't going to eat his ass. I wasn't doing that to just any bro. Not to mention the thought of Sergeant Charlie's load still brewing up there just about made me gag at the thought. No, I thought Wanker's little starfish had been bent out of shape, and only physical stimulation or time was going to get him back up and running. A pulled or cramped muscle needed massage. And a sphincter was just another muscle.
I needed to test my theory. "Okay Wanker, I'm going to try to get inside there. Feel for anything strange. You good with that ?"
"At this point, yeah. Just keep that pressure going, it's the first thing that helps."
I dropped a healthy wad of spit into my hand to lube up his hole. I decided my thumb would be a good start, because his hole seemed to want to let me push further. After I got him more open I could feel around with my index and middle finger. I settled my palm on his hairy taint, letting my fingers nuzzle his rather average sized balls, which were covered with coarse matted hair. I couldn't help but compare it with Sleeper's crotch. His entire ass, inside and out, was smooth and hairless. His cock and balls he shaved smooth. It definitely felt like night and day, but that steamy heat, the musky smell... that was the same.
My thumb made circles on Wanker's hole, exerting increasing pressure every so often. It was surprising when after just a bit of manipulation, my thumb slid in. It didn't pop in, or force its way in, it just glided through his pucker like sucking your thumb as a kid. Nor did his hole clamp down after. He let out a groan and said "oohhhhhhh, shit, that's it."
I pushed in past the knuckle and flexed, bending and extending, twisting my hand as I went. I could kinda feel the smooth, but slimy walls hugging my thumb. I went for a spot that seemed tight, at the top and pressed down.
"Ah! Right there! Right there!" He panted. "It's like a mosquito bite that needs scratched. " he put his hands on his ass and yanked his ass full open, his elbows holding back his knees, his head up, a look on his face like he was giving birth.
Jesus, what was the deal with me and assholes? I had some freakish magic or something. I just let intuition guide me, I didn't know what the fuck I was doing, wasn't trained, even if there was such a thing as an asshole whisperer. Maybe I needed to switch careers and be a proctologist. I could make a fortune just doing whatever I wanted to people's assholes.
"Yeah!" He said. "Do it more, doitmore doitmore, ahhh fuck don't stop."
I figured now was a good time to bring up my diagnosis and treatment. Dr. Assmunch, reporting for duty.
Still yanking on his asshole from the inside with my bent thumb, now rougher, going deeper, pressing harder, I explained " bro, this will heal up in a few days. Your next few shits will probably be torture , but it's nothing you can't recover from. There's no blood, so you aren't punctured. "
"Okay, but you can do this until I do right? It's helping. God it's helping so much. ".
I stood up, his flaccid dick leaking pre-cum. He wasn't even turned on, just leaking. I knew nothing about prostates back then, or I'd have realized I was literally prostate milking him.
"Well, I could. But really, to get back on your feet and back to normal, you need the hair of the dog that bit you." I explained.
He was just laying there groaning and grunting as I stretched out his hole.
"What?" He gasped between oh's and moans.
"Don't be dumb, Wanker. You either need to work your hole with a dildo or something, or get someone to fuck you for a couple days. Until your hole relearns how to be a good little turd cutting starfish. "
"Stop joking around, Assmunch. I don't get fucked." He said, oblivious to the irony of my now two fingers violating him rather brutally. The remains of Sergeant Charlie's nut was making quite a mess down there as I thrust and twisted. "Can't you do it? I'll owe you."
I looked down at him, feeling a bit sorry for him. I don't know what I would do in his place. I'd probably just live with a painful itchy asshole. But my ass didn't send me any signals even when I took a dump. I barely even felt it, no matter the size of the log I pushed out. Wanker here, though, whether because of getting a dick-down or for some other reason, sure seemed to get all sorts of feelings from his hole. Everyone is different, I suppose.
"You already owe me. But I might have a solution that doesn't involve me. Which is what I'd prefer." I said. An idea came to me that might kill two birds with one stone.
"Okay, what do I have to do?" He said, resigned to the fact that he couldn't argue with the relief, and even pleasure he was getting.
"You just have to stay like that and I'll send Zeus in to do the job." I explained. My read on Zeus, from our earlier conversation, and his reluctance to engage with us, get naked or shower with anyone, was that our God was gay. Everything made sense if you looked at it from that angle. He was worried about nothing though. The brothers wouldn't care. Zeus could perform, that's the bottom line. They'd tease him a bit, but not too much. He was still Zeus and his natural supreme confidence, masculinity, command and subtle dangerous demeanor meant if he chose, he could force any or all of us into submission. And when he got that particular look on his face, set his body just so, and a menace lit his eyes, he didn't have to move or speak.
"WHAT? No, bro don't do that. If he saw me like this he'd lose all respect for me. The only reason you haven't is because you know why this happened. And what if he tells someone?"
"Zeus doesn't work that way. You know that. He keeps his mouth shut, keeps to himself. He'll do it because he wants to be included more. He'll be willing to help you out. He'll even do the three day stretch you need. It's your only option unless you want to get a broom handle up there. I'd recommend a condom though, splinters would be bad. Or you could get a cucumber from the mess. They might not even ask why you want to take a cucumber back to your bunk. "
I took that opportunity to pull my slimy fingers out of his ass.
He whimpered as his hole was left empty. Actually whimpered. "Fuck. Okay, but only him. " Wanker gave in.
"Oh, I have a feeling he's going to be all you need, buddy. If he's not man enough for the job, none of us would be." I wiped my hand on Wanker's underwear, and left the storage room.
Of course Sleeper would be there talking to Zeus at the corridor junction. That wasn't a problem though. I needed to meet up with him anyway. I walked up.
"What's up, bro?" Sleeper asked me. "Zeus wouldn't let me past. Said you'd be out soon. What's going on?"
"Nothing important. Just a little project I'm working on. I'll have Zeus finish up. Meet in the same place? I asked him.
"Yep."
"Cool, give me a few. Gotta give Zeus some instructions and I'll be right there. "
"Alright. Hey Zeus, it was nice talking with you. You're pretty amazing." Sleeper said.
"Thanks for hanging out Sleeper. You're... " there was a pause. It almost seemed like he thought he'd gone too far. "Good." That was the word he settled on, with a warm smile at Sleeper's stunned face.
I could see Sleeper just collapse into mush with Zeus' smile and words. This was Sleeper, the rotten handsome prick with enough arrogance and self confidence to wet the panties of every woman who laid eyes on him. The guy who could take on five of us at once and have us tangled up and eating dirt in two minutes. The man who knew every designation, use, method and part to every weapon on the battlefield.
And he turned into an idol worshiping fan girl with just a smile from Zeus. Yep, no one was going to have a problem with Zeus being gay. There might be a problem with who got to suck his dick. That was going to cause a few fights.
Sleeper left for our meeting spot. I turned to Zeus. "Wanker needs your help. Do whatever you want. Do what comes naturally. Don't overthink it. But, he's got an issue that will only get resolved by fucking his ass. I gave him other options, but that's the one he picked. Your dick will tell you what to do. Just, start gentle. Can you do that for me? And for him?"
Zeus looked a little frightened . "I don't know how." He said.
"You will know once you start, trust me. We all do. Don't worry about him. He messed up his asshole, that's why he was limping tonight. It needs to be forced back into shape, but he can't stop clenching in pain. You're going to loosen him up. Start gentle, like I said. You don't have to fuck right away. You'll know when the time is right. Once you get going, just fuck him any way you want. This is a big favor to ask, I know."
"Okay. I can do it." He declared, confident once again. He started down the corridor to the storage room.
"And Zeus? Have fun, it's supposed to be fun.