NOTE: This and all preceding and subsequent chapters are copyright 1993 by Milford Ray Slabaugh. All rights reserved. Permission is hereby granted to post this story to other BBS'es, provided it bears this language. Permission to post to Star*Chat denied.
PLANET OF DESIRE
Chapter 13
"Earning a Dishonorable Discharge"
Ivan watched from the window a while longer, seeing Marines coming from barracks and taking up positions along the rift's edge. All of them were armed with constalasers, and Ivan estimated that there were ten to fifteen men along that rift, reading to cut down any who tried to escape, no doubt. And Tarzan, laughing free Tarzan, was now among them.
He grew angry. Time for him to go see this Mad Commander of theirs.
He got up, shifted his clothes as well as he could, and out the door and down the corridor (a concrete building? On this world?) to the compound outside.
"Where do I find your Commander?" he asked the first Marine he saw.
"Over there, sir!" came the automatic response and a rigid pointing finger.
"On with your duties, soldier!" Ivan could play this game, and would, for all it was worth.
"Yes, sir!" and the young Marine marched away. Ivan watched the pert buttocks wiggle oh-so-slightly, the only place that uniform was taut, then shook his head, and headed for the small building, with a Unified Earth flag fluttering over it. The sight should have filled him with the pride it always did, the sight of Earth's claim on an alien world, but this time, it seemed cruel and impertinent. Perhaps it was the whip cracks he could hear behind him. Earth should have nothing to do with this.
Inside, he stopped and returned the salute of the private at the desk. "Captain Ivan Paskov, Space Scouts, to see the Commander."
"In here!" came a prompt shout from the other room.
"Go on in, sir." the private said.
Ivan marched in as stiff as if back in basic training. Scouts never marched and his body hurt from the rigor, but he had to play a good game.
"Sir!" he said.
"I was just going to send for you, son. At ease, rest, and sit down!"
Ivan sat down and looked for the first time at the Marine Commander.
He expected a wild man, much like that crazy doctor that had saved his life. But in the polished buttons, the close-cropped hair, and the hard face, there was no sign of any insanity. He seemed to be a commander of a lonely outpost on regular duty and in ordinary contact with the other worlds. Which was all part of the game, he was sure.
He waited for the Commander to speak. The man in front of him bore the insignia of a full Colonel, and Ivan was out-ranked. In the Marines' eyes, a Scout Captain was a simple lieutenant.
The Colonel looked up and barked, "Full name!"
"Ivan Tshenga Paskov."
"Rank!"
"Captain, Space Scouts."
"Serial number!"
"84B3988C."
"Terms of service."
On and on the questions went, until Ivan had answered everything about his military career without ever prompting the Colonel, ships he had served on, ships he had commanded, battles he had fought in (but Scouts ran from battle; they were information gatherers only, Ivan had no kills to his credit, or his guilt), up to the time of the crash with David some weeks before. The Colonel asked no questions about the time Ivan had spent in the jungle, indeed, cut him off when he tried to volunteer the information.
Finally, the Colonel leaned back in his chair with a gaze that was probably meant to be friendly. "Captain Paskov, under Section 4143.4, Subsection A14, I am fully transferring you to the Space Marines until such time as contact can be established with your own corps. You will be given the Marine rank of Lieutenant, with all rights and duties connected with that rank. Do you understand, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir." Ivan tried to sound confident and eager.
"Let me emphasize something here, Lieutenant. I don't care about your past on this planet. We all acted a bit crazy when we first landed here. But if you so much as touch another man in this compound, you will earn a dishonorable discharge and be punished severely."
"I understand." Ivan had figured that out already.
"Good. I need men of rank to watch over my men. We lost half our officers and noncoms in the crash, and all of the Navy men died in the control cabin, but with you and Martin with us, we will be able to restore and lift off as soon as we can complete a few tasks."
"Such as the rift, sir?"
"Exactly. The problem here has been that damnable pink mist, as you are undoubtedly aware. It's weakest here, near the ocean, and that gave me the plan. The smallest ditch and it pours into it instead of all over good men, turning and perverting them, so we've used native laborers to widen and deepen that ditch until we can separate this piece of land from the rest of the continent."
"Begging your pardon, sir, but why not go to one of the islands already there, rather than build one, so to speak?"
"Because this is where our ship is, and no repairs were possible until the rift was dug. Besides, the islands we scouted at first all had one of those volcanos on it, belching out pink smoke. Whatever is in that mist, it owns all of this world, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir."
"Fortunately, our ship was being sent to establish a new base and we had everything we needed to set up a proper base here. There's plenty of work to be done, yet. I want to give these natives a place where they can live when we're done, as well. Then, by the time we can send back rescue, they will be acting like normal men instead of sick, perverted creatures."
"Yes, sir." Never disagree with a commanding officer. Besides, that look in his eyes. Maybe the Colonel WAS insane.
"You'll be bunking with Captain Swenson, Lieutenant McElby and Second Lieutenant Martin, in a four-man room. You'll share the duties, and they'll be the ones to show you how. Any other questions?"
"Yes, sir. How many men do you have here?"
"Two companies, Lieutenant. A hundred and fifty men, twelve non-coms and six officers, for a total of one hundred and sixty-eight personnel, including the two of us. We are understaffed with officers, as I have said, and I am glad you found us. If you'll go report to Captain Swenson, he'll start you on makee-learnee.
Ivan went and reported, watched, and listened. Captain Vidkun Swenson ("call me Vid") turned out to be a big, friendly Swede, with a massive chest barrel and biceps as big as Ivan's own. Hair spilled over the top of his uniform and around the cuffs, hair as blond as the flat-top adorning his head. Eyes were crystalline blue, and smiled. The two of them must have made an imposing pair as they walked around the place.
Ivan managed to keep his face calm as he looked down at the native prisoners digging away, the trench visibly pink- colored, probably driving them wild (every crotch Ivan could see bore a raging hard-on, and he longed to dive in and start sucking on those boners), but whips from Marines above flicked down every time any two natives got too close together. The Marines seemed to enjoy it. Perhaps they did, with no women around to help them with their own regular boners, a sadomasochistic thrill seemed to be borne from sexual deprivation.
Ivan looked for Tarzan, saw him despondently obeying, with a back scorned with red marks. They had used him hard, and Ivan felt a fury build in him. To try to beat into submission a free spirit such as Tarzan's was the ultimate crime!
Ivan was glad when they turned away, and he and Captain Swenson walked off down the rift to a part already dug deeply, filled with pink mist that wafted away, presumably towards the sea.
"Would you like to inspect the digging, Lieutenant?" Captain Swenson offered.
"I can see it fine from up here, sir, Vid." Ivan said. He looked at Captain Swenson, saw the captain looking around, did so himself. They were quite alone. Ivan felt Vid's arm go around his waist, and turned to him, startled.
"Have you noticed the bottom of the rift, Lieutenant?"
"No, sir." Ivan ignored the arm, it could be only friendliness, and it felt awful good around his waist.
"Take a closer look."
Ivan did. Boulders here and there made a maze of the place. Plenty of hiding places. At one place, he could see a pair of black boots sticking out. A man taking his ease? Face down?
Ivan felt himself guided to the right by Captain Swenson and the boots grew into green trouser legs and buttocks, and then a broad back and then...
Two Marines were down there in the rift, one giving the other a blow-job. The mist obscured them, gave only hints of the men, but Ivan saw enough to understand.
"I see." he said.
"What our Commander does not know will not hurt him in this matter. One must have a man in command of troops, but in this matter, he is of a frozen mind." Captain Swenson turned a dazzlingly white smile on Ivan. "Men must find their pleasure where they can, and the pink mist is pleasant for short times. You must not think that all of us are monsters. The work must be done, orders are orders and the Colonel orders it, but other than that, a man is his own."
"I quite agree. But I don't like the whips the men are using." Ivan let himself be guided down a slope marked with many boots and bare feet. Even the natives, then, made their way down here. That made Ivan feel somewhat better. But those whips, just the same...
Vid guided them into the mist, and Ivan felt it again as pink fingers on his body, his skin prickled and warmed and he became more than led by the captain; rather, they walked side by side along the ways, vague shapes of men having sex around them, to an unoccupied niche that seemed to belong to Captain Swenson, for he guided Ivan expertly to a convenient rock, sat Ivan down on it, and proceeded to doff his clothing slowly, teasingly.
Vid had such an open, honest, pleasant face, that smiled benevolently down as his lithe fingers danced over his buttons. The shirt pulled apart as he did so, his chest strained itself free of the clothing, almost reaching for Ivan, and Ivan ran his fingers into the heavy coating of man-fur, playing with the fur, pinching it, pulling it, and Vid gulped, sighed as he tugged off the shirt and stepped closer for Ivan's touch. Ivan was staring right at the ample breasts from his perch, and he reached out with his face and tongued the brown oval nipple, which promptly puckered into button-like hardness. Vid ran his hands over Ivan's neck and into his shirt and onto his back, the fingertips skating over his body, touching, feeling Ivan and Ivan left the pert nipple and dove into the deep brush of Vid's armpit, tasting clean man sweat blended with the natural odor of male musk, lapping at it with long strokes, Ivan felt the hairs like satin brushes on his tongue and Vid lifted him up to kiss him hard, Vid's tongue found its way into Ivan's mouth, an impudent pink invader and Ivan relaxed his jaws, permitted total access to his new friend.
After a time, Vid released Ivan and Ivan worked his way down Vid's body, tasting Vid's adam's-apple as a bony bump on his neck, sucking at the hollow of his throat, tasting the collar bones and running his tongue like a bare-footed dancer over the hills of Vid's breasts, the hairs like mossy grass, the tiny crease beneath like a brook full of man- sweat, to drink from and be refreshed, down further over the white, smooth, taut stomach and its line of hairs that struggled their way downward, thin but never vanquished, and onto--the damned Marine trousers.
Vid wore a snow-white, nylon, woven-cloth belt that was closed with a brass fastener peculiarly the military's, and Ivan knew it well enough to unclasp it quickly, and then a single large button and the zipper, the archaic, damnable zipper (why didn't the Marines use Velcro like everyone else?) that made a metallic rasp and.... Hurrah! No underwear. A large salami-shaped hunk of Swedish cock sprang free, red and dripping with precome, a feast for the hungry man within. Ivan gratefully sank onto it and let the precome ooze into his mouth without swallowing, permitting it to aid his saliva in greasing up the Nordic schlong.
Slowly but surely, without hesitation or catching, Ivan slid the massive dick deeper and deeper into himself, not knowing how big it was but taking it as it came to him, as he could, and it fit into his throat like a familiar friend, and Ivan's nose tickled with Vid's pubic hairs, and the base was attained at last, and Ivan had the entirety of the cock within him.
Ivan sent his hands back around Vid's buttocks to ease the fatigues down and they fell to mid-thigh, and Ivan slowly relinquished his prize, leaving it grey with his saliva, thoroughly coated and slimy and easy to take once again, which he hastened to do.
Ivan tugged at Vid's buttocks as he deep-throated the big Swede, pulling them apart and manipulating the lumps of flesh that tensed and puckered in as Vid began to add his force to the depth of Ivan's thrusts.
Ivan heard/sensed another man join them, someone who knelt behind Vid and sent a wet tongue in between the asscheeks that Ivan held apart.
The mist was alive with men making love, ghostly moans and gasps and muttered instructions. It was all like a dream, or rather, as if the entire world was with them making love, and Ivan surrendered Vid's buttocks to the unknown third man, concentrated on his attack on Vid's cock.
Vid lurched forward and Ivan heard the man behind Vid rise to his feet, there came the rasp of zipper and Ivan grinned, held the buttocks apart for the pressure of cloth on his hands, and the hint of slimy precome on his fingers as the third man's cock brushed past them and into Vid's waiting hole.
Vid had done this before, for he took the man's cock without flinching, merely a gasp and Ivan found the man's thrusts were causing Vid's cock to fuck his mouth, he held still and permitted this, unzipped his own pants to take out his cock, add his hand flogging his cock to the sexual fray.
Ivan's head was chock-a-block against the stone behind him, Vid was hunching/being hunched deep into him and Ivan pounded his pud and let Vid fuck his mouth, harder, faster, and the third man groaned, and Ivan felt come fall from Vid's ass onto his cock in cold splashes of pearl, Vid's cock erupted into his mouth in a gusher of passion, and Ivan was surrounded by the smell and feel and taste of come, he jerk-spurted, spraying the boots and trouser-legs of Vid and the other man, ivory white against olive green and worn, black-leather boots.
Vid wrapped himself around Ivan's mouth, held him tight for a time, then straightened up and let Ivan get to his feet. Ivan did so and, curiosity overcoming him, leaned around Vid to see their third man.
"Glad I wasn't late for this." David said and grinned.
"David? What are you doing here?" Ivan felt embarrassed.
"Same thing you were doing. Vid wants to talk to us, and this is as private as we can get. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, sure." Ivan found that, with the orgasm, the pink mist had no effect on him despite the vast quantity around them, for a few minutes at least.
"Good. We only have a few more minutes. What do you think of this place?" Vid asked.
"I hate it. I want out, but I want to take the natives with me."
"Me, too." Vid said. "About the natives, I agree, Marines should not own slaves no matter what the reason or how good it is. But our Commander's plan will not work despite the native help, willing or unwilling."
"Why not?" Ivan asked.
"You haven't been here long." David said in his defense as much as a chide. "How did we get here?"
"Crashed."
"Why did we crash?" What was David's game?
"I don't know. Some kind of field...oh."
"Right." Vid agreed. "There is no use to repair the troop transport, it will only crash again and perhaps take all of us with it. But it is being repaired, and soon the Commander will insist we all get aboard. Much as I dislike it, there is only one thing to do."
"What is that?" Ivan asked.
"We must remove the Colonel from command."
Mutiny. An ugly word, no matter what the reason.
But what other choice was there? To get aboard the ship, and crash, and maybe die?
"I'm in." Ivan said. "God help us all."
Vid smiled. "Good. Let me introduce you to the rest of our compatriots. The men who have been waiting here for us. We must act fast."
The men having sex all around him. Not just for sex, but to discuss a mutiny.
Talk about the way to earn a dishonorable discharge!
END OF CHAPTER 13
TO BE CONTINUED