What A Mess: Betrayal

[Anime2]

Chapter 2​

“Charlotte,” I say with zero emotion in my voice. It has to be zero emotion. I won’t be able to contain myself if I allow myself to feel. “What. Did. You. Do?” She sits there. Trying to stop her crying. My world narrows down to myself and my wife.

Paul doesn’t exist.

Lisa doesn’t exist.

The world…doesn’t exist.

It’s just me.

And my wife.

“I thought I was helping,” she finally says, between breaths. I keep looking at her. I’m in interrogation mode.

I keep looking at her.

She looks up at me. Sadness. Fear. “When I told you, that I had made mistakes, too, Jim, this is what I was talking about. This is what I would change if I could go back in time. You kept thinking it was your fault our marriage started to deteriorate. It wasn’t. It was my fault. And mine alone. You were a victim of me trying to do a good deed. And I didn’t know how to change it once it happened.”

Silence. I keep looking at Charlotte. Trying to see her point of view.

And failing.

“Last Saturday, when I told you that Lisa and I had sex with each other, while you were on deployments, I thought that now would be a good time to let you know that I knew about the affair,” she says, drying her eyes. “That’s why I suggested a three way with Lisa. But you shot it down. You were protecting a secret that wasn’t a secret. But I couldn’t just blurt out that I knew about it.”

“What?” Paul says, astonished, to Lisa. “You and Char were having sex with each other?”

“What were you expecting, Paul,” I say, finding an outlet for my emotions, irritation lacing my voice, turning towards him, “that they were staying home crocheting quilts for us?” Who the fuck does he think he is, getting mad about his wife having sex with my wife while we were on deployments. “Why can you fuck women, while we are on deployments, but you can’t fuck your own wife, in your own home?”

“Once my issues started, Jim,” he says, “I couldn’t have sex at all, period.”

“So, what, exactly, are these issues, Paul?” I fling at him, not even bothering to hide my emotions from him.

He looks at me. Hard. There’s a war going on in his head. Fear. Scared. Angst. Anxiety. Depression. Shame. Fear.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, head down, deeply afraid. “I can’t tell you.”

Enough of this bullshit! I want some fucking answers!

“Can’t? Or won’t?” I say with some acid.

“It’s the same thing,” he says.

“Bullshit. Can’t is something is preventing you from telling me. Won’t is you refusing to tell me. Which is it?” I say, standing up, looking at him.

He looks at me. Shame. Terror. Fear. Angst. Anxiety. Depression. Fear. Above all else, fear.

Lisa looks between Paul and myself.

Charlotte is crying into her hands again.

Fear, laced with terror, is all through his body right now.

Anger is immolating mine.

“Won’t,” he says softly, as tears start to fall from his eyes, fear consuming him.

“Congratulations,” I sneer at him, standing up. “That decision just cost you our friendship. The decision that you and Lisa made may have cost you your son.”

“Jim,” Lisa says, shocked. Really, Lisa? You were expecting tea and crumpets? “That’s not fair.”

“Fair? FAIR?” I shout at her. “Is it fair that your husband can’t have sex with you anymore? Is it fair that my marriage suffered because of our affair? Is it fair that you may have ruined your relationship with your son? Is it fair that you are carrying my baby? What, in this entire mess, has been fair?”

Silence.

I walk towards the door.

“Jimmy,” Paul says, softly, putting his left hand on my shoulder as I pass him, desperation waring with fear, “please, don’t do this.”

“Take your fucking hand off my fucking shoulder, Paul,” I growl at him. Paul flinches and removes his hand from my shoulder. Desperation. Fear. Despair. Sadness.

“Jim,” Lisa says, aghast.

“Shut up,” I snarl at her, resuming my walk towards the door. “Charlotte, I need some space. I’m going to pack a bag and go to a hotel.” I slam the door behind me as I leave.

I walk down the front steps. My pace increases as my heart breaks. As the tears start to flow, I break into a run. Running as fast as I am crying. I get home and go to the bedroom. I pack a quick bag and run back to the car.

I get in and take off. As I drive past Paul’s house, I mentally flip it off and destroy it with a nuke.

Bastards.

All of them.

Fuck them all!

A few minutes later, my phone starts to blow up.

I ignore it.

Text messages.

Phone calls.

Text messages.

Phone calls.

“LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE,” I scream at my phone.

Text messages.

Phone calls.

Text messages.

Phone calls.

I reach over and turn it off.

F-fu-fuckers.

Everything that I thought I was responsible for, was really my best friend, his wife and, fuck me, my wife, pulling my strings and betraying me.

What a fucking joke I am.

The weight of the world comes crashing onto my shoulders as I start to cry. I pull over into a parking lot.

And cry myself out.

As my tears fade away, I realize I am in the hotel parking lot.

I sit in the parking lot and try to compose myself.

I reach into the glove compartment and pull out some napkins. I wipe one all over my face. Drying my face off. I sit in my car. Hands gripping the steering wheel. All I want to do is go into combat.

I want to face as many enemies as possible and kill each and every single one of them. I want to stab them. I want to shoot them. I want to dismember them! I want to wash the world in fire and bring it to an end!

A pigeon lands on the hood of my car. I sit there and watch it. My anger burning through me. Arcs of fire descend on it, in my mind. Immolating it. It ruffles its feathers and starts walking around the hood. Head bobbing forward and backward with each step it takes. It gets to the middle of the hood, turns away from me, and craps on the hood.

Like a whirlpool opening up in the ocean, I feel my anger drain away. The fires immolating the pigeon disappear.

I start to giggle.

Then I start to laugh.

I’m laughing so fucking hard, right now, it echoes in my car.

It scares the pigeon away.

I can’t even breathe properly.

My world is literally falling to pieces and God sends a pigeon to crap on my car, to literally show me how crappy my life is right now.

And fuck me, it’s funny!

Fuck.

I take a deep breath and look at myself in the mirror.

I’ve looked better. But this is as good as it’s going to get.

I grab a napkin and get out of the car.

“Alright, you little shit monster,” I say, after the pigeon, “you did your duty.” I wipe the pigeon crap off my car. I grab my suitcase, close and lock the door, and head into the hotel.

“Welcome to Double Tree,” the clerk behind the counter says, “do you have a reservation.”

“No, I just need a room for the night,” I say. The clerk helps me and gives me my key. I head up to the room. I get there. I put the suitcase in the closet and sit on the bed.

Staring into space.

I am just numb. And drained. My anger is gone. I’m too hurt to care. I’m not even in shock, anymore. Or maybe I am still in shock. I don’t know. I am just numb. I turn on my phone.

DING
DING
DING
DING

Message after message after message.

34 text messages from Charlotte, Paul and Lisa.

Fuck them!

I send a text message:

Josh – don’t tell anyone you’ve heard from me.

I’m in trouble and don’t know what to do.

Please come to the Double Tree on Main.

Room 434. DO NOT LET ANYONE KNOW

YOU’VE HEARD FROM ME.

<send>

DING

OMW

I sit on the edge of the bed, staring out into nothing.

Eventually, there is a knock on the door.

I go to open the door. It’s Josh.

“Jim,” he asks, with concern, “what’s going on?”

As soon as the door closes, the wall that I sealed my emotions behind, starts to crack.

My emotions start to leak through that wall.

That crack grows into fractures.

My emotions start to overwhelm me.

The fractures lace throughout my being.

Me chest starts to hurt.

My eyes start watering.

And I stand there, crying.

Wailing.

My soul is bleeding out.

And I don’t know how to stop it.

Josh hugs me close to him.

And I collapse into his arms crying.

I KNEW IT HAHAHA, I CALLED IT, I knew Char had a part in this I just knew it. You dropped really subtle hints through out.

I'm now wondering why matt is so bothered by the "betrayal" when he himself has been acting the same. I still think he's been working with char this whole time so I guess we'll wait and see.

Jim's reaction is interesting because even though he was lied to and everyone was in on it, it certainly wasn't by force. He may have been "setup" but realistically no one put a gun to his head he started off saying no but he caved due to his ego and quite frankly his lack of self control when he's horny. And not only did he cave with lisa he then started cheating with matt (to begin with) then paul. None of them forced him including matt because let's be real he allowed Matt to control him because it turned him on.

If Jim had some self control and didn't allow the compliments about his man hood get to his head the manipulation wouldn't have worked.

But Char ohh she's a villain even now all this crying I dont trust her

 

[Sklar]

Chapter 9​

As we get out and head toward Meyer’s office, I look around. It’s a nice day but there’s this…pall…that’s the only word I can think of, that just seems to hang in the air. Paul opens the door and as we step in, the pall vanishes.

The office is almost in direct contrast to the outside. There is an energy here. It’s vibrant. Positive. People are working with a step, if that makes sense.

“Hello, Captain McClendon, Clinton,” the sergeant says looking up from his desk. “Lt Meyers is in his office.”

“Thank you, Cooper,” Josh says, then we make our way to Meyer’s office. The door is open and Josh knocks on the frame. “Meyers.”

“Sir,” Meyers says with a smile as we enter the office. “Welcome,” he says, as he shakes our hands then we sit down.

“How are things going?” Josh asks.

“Things are slowly improving, sir,” Meyers says. “It’s been a week since all this went down. There’s still a lot of shock in the unit.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, leaning forward.

“The best way I can explain it, sir, is that the entire unit has a form of…PTSD,” Meyers says as his hands fumble in the air, trying to get the right word. “Captain Schmit…wasn’t a good leader. Men were punished for the slightest of reasons: unkempt room: A write up and a suspension of liberties. Uniform not meeting his standards: Assigned to a work detail with a suspension of liberties. Question his decisions: Insubordination charges filed and confined to quarters. Then throw in the fact he was able to get the chaplain transferred and the XO was stripped of his duties, this unit was frightened of command.”

“The office seems different,” I commented.

“Yes,” Meyers says, nodding his head. “Working with Captain McClendon here, we were able to drop all current charges against all those that are still pending. We are working with legal to get all charges expunged from those already sentenced. Those that lost rank, will be backdated and reinstated with the according pay, too.”

“So the office workers see the changes,” I say.

“Yes,” Meyers says, nodding his head. “That should have spread like wildfire through the company. But it hasn’t.”

“I presume you’ve gone and talked to the men in person, letting them know what’s going on?” I say, steepling my fingers in front of my face as I listen.

“I have,” he says, “I have told them what’s going on and when I am there, the actions I have initiated. They seem to believe me. But after I leave, they go back into that PTSD state.”

“That’s odd,” I muse. “You’d think the opposite would happen. How many men had their pending charges dropped?”

“Seventeen,” Meyers says.

“Seventeen?” I exclaim. “Holy shit. That’s insane! And all charges were dropped.”

“Yes,” Meyers says, nodding his head.

“And they all know that?” I ask, still not believe it.

“Yes,” he says. “I don’t understand it.”

“How many others were successfully charged?” I ask thinking of how many men are in this unit.

“Another twelve,” Meyers says.

“Holy shit,” I say.

“Are those Psy Ops books?” I ask, going over to the desk.

What the fuck? Why did that memory about Matt’s room come back to me.

“Jim?” Josh asks, looking at me.

“Give me a moment, please,” I say to him. “Please, go over what you need to. I need to think.”

“Okay,” Josh says, turning to Meyers.

Why did that come to me? What is it trying to tell me? Okay, back to basics, then. Why is that memory so important to me that it came up now? That’s when I first realized that Matt had been studying our psy op manuals and required reading.

It’s not even Sir I am mad at. It’s myself. I saw all the clues. I just didn’t put them together. FUCK. Some intelligence officer I am.

Psy ops training kicks in.

Otherwise, the blood would be draining from my face as it dawns on me.

Someone is using our own tactics against Meyers men.

We have a traitor in this company.

 

[Sklar]

Chapter 10

​

“Meyers, would it be okay if I go talk to those men?” I ask him.

“Of course, you can, sir. My sergeant has the list. I’ll go get it now,” he says as he gets up and leaves.

“What are you thinking, Jim?” Josh says, turning to me. This is why he asked for me to accompany him here.

“A crazy thought came to me, Josh,” I say. “Let me follow up on it and see if it’s true, before I tell you.”

“Fair enough,” he says. “If you need anything, while you are out there, just text me.”

“Will do,” I say, as Meyers comes in. He hands me the list. “What time are you heading back to regimental?”

“A couple hours,” Josh says, as Meyers sits back down.

“See you then,” I say as I head out of the office. I head over to a bench and sit down to look it over. Hmmm. Three staff sergeants, seven corporals, four specialists and three private first class. The ones with the most influence would be the staff sergeants. At the same time, the ones with nothing to lose would be the private first classes.

If I was going to try and destabilize morale, I’d start at both the top of the list and the bottom of the list. The reason being those at the top are looked up to by those below them. Their rank and experience mean something, after all. Got a question, ask the staff sergeant. They’ve got the answers. The men below them will follow.

Those at the bottom of the list would be the rabble rousers. They can bitch and moan all they want to, no one will pay any attention to them because of who they are: kids with no real world experience. But, because no one pays attention to them, they actually have power. Bitch and moan enough, and it starts to have a life of its own. It’s like flotsam and jetsam, crap that’s in the water, that everyone knows about, but doesn’t do anything about it.

Looking over the list, I decide to start with the first staff sergeant on the list, SSgt Ritter. I head over to his barracks. That pall I noticed earlier is still in the air. It feels like really bad smog. Yet, the day is beautiful. I don’t get it. But I certainly wouldn’t want to live in it. Yet this company has been. If this is because of Karl’s doing, this should have left when Karl did. Yet it didn’t.

But it makes perfect sense, if this was an orchestrated maneuver.

I come up to a work crew in front of the barracks. Each company uses their own men for the basics: making sure the ground doesn’t have litter, the sidewalks are taken care of, that, upon first looking at the area, it doesn’t look like a homeless encampment.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I say, as I approach. Fear. Recoil. Apprehension. Holy shit. Meyers wasn’t kidding.

“Yes sir,” one says, as the all come to attention and salute me.

“Relax, gentlemen,” I say, returning the salute with a smile. Fear. Apprehension. Recoil. “I’m looking for Staff Sergeant Ritter.”

“Third door on the left, sir,” the one of the left says, pointing down the hallway. Trepidation. Caution. Fear.

“Thank you,” I say, saluting them as they return it. Then I head down the sidewalk to Ritter’s room.

The men in the hospital took to him right away but were wary of me. After the same thing happened twice, we decided to let Meyers go in first, explain who he is and who he is replacing, then I would come in. That worked out much better.

Josh had mentioned that the men were wary of him. Because he was a captain. They took to Meyers because he was a first lieutenant. If those three are any indication, Ritter will be the same.

Only one way to find out, as I knock on the door.

“Hold on,” comes a voice from the other side of the door. Surprise. Astonishment. Why would someone be surprised or astonished that someone knocked on their door? A few moments later, Ritter opens the door. He looks at me. Surprise open on his face. “Yes, sir?”

“Staff Sergeant Ritter?” I ask, just to confirm.

“Yes, sir,” he nods in confirmation.

“Hey,” Paul says, “would you mind if we just walked and talked? I suddenly don’t really feel like eating.”

“I’m Captain Clinton from Regiment. I’m sorry to intrude on you unexpectedly, but I need some assistance, please. Can you please accompany me?” I ask. He’s clearly surprised but now wary. Very wary of me.

“Yes, sir,” he says as he steps out and locks his door. “I’m not sure what Regiment needs with me, though.” Wariness. Caution. Distrust.

“I just need to talk please,” I say as we start to walk down the sidewalk.

“About what, sir?” he asks as he moves to my right side and we start to walk in unison.

“I’d like to keep this informal, if that’s alright with you,” I say. “No rank. No sir. Please call me Jim.”

“Yes, Jim,” he says. Relief. Confusion. “I still don’t know what you need me for, though.”

“It’s both personal and situational,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

“About what?” he says after a few moments.

“No one at Regiment knew what was going on here, while Captain Schmidt was in charge,” I tell him. I stop and turn to look directly at him. “We had no idea how low moral had gotten. We certainly didn’t know anything about any of the charges that were being levied against you and your men. It wasn’t until Captain Schmidt took your company on that hump last week, and the fallout from that, that we had any clue. And for that I am sorry. So very sorry that you and your men had to suffer.”

Shock. Distrust. Apprehension. Anger. Rage. Resentment!

“So you’re here to what? Be my friend? Aleve your conscious because of your neglect?” he scoffs at me. Anger rising. “Where were you, when all these bogus charges were brought against us? Where were you, when the chaplain was sent away? Where were you when the XO was stripped of his powers and made a shell of a man? You think I’m supposed to believe that now, after the damage was done, you’re here out of the goodness of your heart? Spare me.”

Anger radiates out of him. He’s breathing hard. He’s had that inside of him for a long time. Which makes sense. At his rank, he’s been in the Army for years. He’s seen a crap ton of shit. His experience makes him who he is. He’s seen the good the Army does. He’s also been a victim of the Army when it goes bad.

“You’re right, Ritter,” I say. “You’re absolutely right. We did drop the ball. We weren’t there for you. For the other men that had charges against them. The score of other men whose charges stuck. We can only fix and hope to improve what’s been done. The pending charges were dropped against you and the others. That was one step.”

“What are the other steps?” he says, looking at me. We didn’t get very far in our walk. We are still close to his barracks, and we’ve drawn a small crowd. It’s not very often you see an officer being yelled at in public. It’s ever rarer when it’s an enlisted man doing it. Ritter, as a staff sergeant, actually is at the rank where he can talk back to an officer, but that’s usually not done in such a…verbal manner. Anger. Resentment. Distrust. Shame. Caution. Hope. But there is a small kernel of hope in there.

“Everyone, come closer, please,” I say, raising my voice to be heard. There’s eight men that were drawn by us and Ritter’s yelling. None of them move any closer to us. I look at Ritter, “Please ask them to come closer. I want them to hear what I say.”

Anger, dying out. Hope. Caution. Trepidation. Hope.

“Come closer, guys,” Ritter says. “The Captain from Regiment wants to say something.” The men start to slowly move forward. Instead of standing in a circle around us, they move closer to Ritter.

Bitterness. Caution. Fear. Hatred. I can see why Meyers likened this to PTSD.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” I say, once they are settled. “Yes, I am from Regiment. I’m Captain James Clinton. But I am not here in an official capacity. So please, if you have questions, call me Jim. I am sure you heard, actually, I am sure the whole neighborhood heard (that gets me one slight smile) if I am here out of the goodness of my heart. The answer is no, I am not. (Frowns. Distrust. Anger.) I am here out of the goodness of your heart, Ritter. (Surprise). Your heart, Jones. (Thank God everyone has their last name on their utility tops). Your heart, Campos. (surprise) And yours. And yours. And yours. (I say pointing to each and every one of them). I am here to help. (Thank you, Josh). Ritter asked me what steps we are taking. So far, what I know, is this: All the pending charges against seventeen of you, have been dropped. Yours has been dropped, correct, Ritter? (He nods his head yes). Forgive me for this next question but I don’t know all of you. Did anyone else here have charges against them? (heads nodding). I’m sure you know of those that did. (Head nods). Did you hear or did they tell you the charges were dropped? (A couple nodding their heads). Good. Because they were dropped.”

“Yeah, that helps them out,” another man sneers, “what about those of us that were already convicted?”

“Thank you, for that question, Cates,” I say, acknowledging him. “Your new CO, First Lieutenant David Meyers, has already initiated paperwork to get those convictions vacated. And, if you lost rank, he is working to backdate it so your previous rank will be reinstated along with the correct backpay, too.”

Hope. Eagerness. Anger. Excitement. Extra money always gets any military man excited. At least they seem to be listening and it’s no longer all anger.

“Yeah,” says another that I can’t read his name, “what’s this bullshit about a first lieutenant being our commanding officer? All he is, is a place holder until you guys find someone even worse that our previous CO.”

Anger. Resentment. Hostility. Depression.

That was quick.

“What? No. No! Is that what you’ve heard?” I ask bewildered. All of them nod their heads yes. “No. First Lieutenant Meyers is your new CO. Yes, it’s a bit unorthodox, but there has been precedent for it before. He is close to his time in grade for his captain’s board. But he is now, and will be, your CO. And think of this, too. Because he’s who he is, you, all of you (I say using my hands and arms to indicate them) will have a chance to help shape his command over this company. You know what went wrong before, right? (Head nods). You know what signs to look for, right? (Head nods). All of you here, hell, your entire company, has an opportunity to make this company the best, not only in the regiment, but in all of the Army. Do you want to pass on that opportunity? (Heads shaking)”

“That’s a lot to take on faith, Captain,” Ritter says. “Once burned, twice shy.” He’s cynical, but that’s natural. But, more importantly, hope radiates out from Ritter. Like a drowning man holding only to a life buoy, but it’s there.

“First of all, it’s Jim,” I say, pointing my index finger at him. “Second of all, it’s not faith. It’s fact. What I’ve told you is what he and the Regimental XO have told me personally. I’m sure you all have a lot of questions, let’s head over to the clearing and have a bitch session. You up for that?” There’s some smiles (finally!) and head nodding. There is some simmering resentment, though.

“We’ve got our work assignments to do,” someone in the back says. Anger. Resentment. Hatred. That’s understandable given what I have been told about Karl and his policies.

“I am the ranking officer here,” I say with a smile. “The Regimental XO brought me along and your CO knows I am here. Let someone try to tell me no.” That’s met with some barks of laughter. “C’mon, let’s go.”

And we do.

 

[Sklar]

*********************STORY BREAK*********************

SAVE THE DATE & TIME!!!

Tonight, at 8 PM Eastern time (US time) my interview about What A Mess: Blackmail, with Logan Crawford from the Spotlight Network will go live!

Hi Mark,

Good day!
We would like to let you know that your interview on The Spotlight Network TV premieres tomorrow Tuesday, Apri
l 16 at 8 PM New York Time. Logan Crawford even said you did a GREAT job in your interview.
The links are below.

SUBSCRIBE to the Spotlight Network on YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/c/TheSpotlightNetwork

YouTube

https://youtu.be/afQGpjbykp4

Vimeo Download

https://vimeo.com/spotlighttv/download/932660689/d50b265014

Facebook

https://www.facebook.com/SpotlightTVNetwork

The Spotlight Network

https://thespotlight.network/

Watch it on Roku!

Home> Streaming Channels> Search Channels> Type in "SPOTLIGHT" and add the Spotlight network Channel!

https://channelstore.roku.com/details/abc14f997ffa98b619d6907d078749ee/spotlight

Watch it on Fire TV!

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0CPW4PVH3?nodl=1&dplnkId=737c57c4-2983-4f28-9397-bafa770a8a9f

I love the write up for the interview they created:

Tune into Spotlight TV with Emmy Award Winner, broadcaster and actor Logan Crawford (Blood Bloods, The Blacklist, Manifest, Bull, The Irishman, Marry Me, Three Women, The Big Short, Person of Interest, Gotham, The Following, Daredevil, Not Okay, The First Purge ), step into the shadows with us in an exclusive interview that delves deep into "WHAT A MESS: BLACKMAIL" by Mark Levy, a novel that captures the essence of human frailty, the complexity of illicit desires, and the unforeseen repercussions of our darkest secrets. This is not just a story; it's a psychological journey through the life of Captain Jim Clinton, whose world is irrevocably changed when his affair becomes the leverage in a game of blackmail he never anticipated playing.

Mark Levy, through his intricate narrative and deeply flawed yet fascinating characters, explores the terrain of moral dilemmas, the nuances of betrayal, and the price of secrets kept and revealed. The unveiling of Captain Clinton’s affair by his mistress’s son sets off a chain of events that forces him to confront not only his own moral compass but also the very fabric of his desires and responsibilities.

In this compelling author interview, Mark Levy shares the inspirations behind his gripping tale, offering insights into the challenges of crafting a story that intertwines suspense with deep emotional and ethical questions. "WHAT A MESS: BLACKMAIL" serves as a mirror, reflecting the often murky waters of human emotions and the choices that define us. For aficionados of thrillers and those fascinated by the psychological underpinnings of love and betrayal, this interview offers a rare peek behind the curtain of a master storyteller’s mind, where every decision and its fallout are meticulously laid bare. Learn more: https://www.amazon.com/WHAT-MESS-BLAC...

Thank you all for your patience.

I appreciate each and every one of you.

All the best,

Mark



Be sure to Like Comment and Subscribe

 

[Sklar]

Chapter 11​

We are deep into the bitch session. Man, is there ever a lot of pent up resentment and anger. And that’s just from nine of them. If the entire unit is like this, we’ve got our work cut out for us.

But it has been a good bitch session. Once it started, it kept going. I asked Ritter to start. He started to complain about the lack of oversite on Schmidt. Then another mentioned how some of the married men were confined to the barracks and couldn’t go back home to their wives. Another complained that some of the previously convicted men were still not drawing pay, as their conviction resulted, not only in a loss of rank, but a forfeiture of pay, too.

Earlier, before the bitch session, when it was mentioned that Meyers was just a place holder, that was the mildest rumor about him. At first, the men were hesitant to open up. That’s why I asked Ritter to start. When the men saw that I wasn’t reprimanding him, then they slowly started to open up. And once it opened up, it flooded out.

I must have lost track of time because I see Josh and Meyers, in the distance, walking towards us. When the others see them approaching, the mood starts to take a nosedive.

“Gentlemen,” I remind them gently, “both your CO and the regimental XO sent me here. They want to know what’s going on. Please, take a deep breath and relax. I promise you that there will be no retaliation from what we’ve been talking about.”

The group looks towards Ritter, as he is the ranking SNCO. Ritter has been very intent on what I’ve been saying and, more importantly, that I’ve been listening to them and taking notes.

Ritter holds my gaze for a few moments, as Josh and Meyers continue to walk toward us.

“I believe him,” he says. Immediately, the mood turns around. We all stand up and wait for them to get closer.

“At ease, men,” Josh says as we all start to straighten up to salute. We relax. “How is everything going?”

“Better than I thought it would, sir,” Ritter says to Josh.

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that, Ritter,” Josh says, as he reaches out and shakes Ritter’s hand. “We are only as strong as our trust and faith in each other. We know we have a lot of work to do to re-earn that.”

“I think today was a good day for that, sir,” Ritter says as the handshake ends. “Captain Clinton reminded me of what the army should be.”

“Thanks, Ritter,” I say blushing a little. “This is how the army should always be. Looking out for each other.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, smiling at me. “I’m starting to remember that now, because of you.” He reaches out and shakes my hand. Then salutes me, then Josh, then Meyers. And he heads back to the barracks. The rest then follow his example.

As they shake my hand, I can tell that the mood has lightened. There’s still a couple of them that have reservations and at least one still has resentment. But that’s natural. Nothing is fixed overnight or in one bitch session. But one bitch session can do wonders. The last one shakes my hand and salutes us and leaves the three of us by ourselves.

Meyers is looking at me.

“What?” I say with a smile.

“I hope I can be as people friendly as you, one day, sir,” he says. “I go out and talk to the men as much as I can but I’ve never had them react like that to me.”

“People skills can take a while to learn,” I say, blushing slightly. “One thing that I learned a long time ago is this: Make people feel important and valuable. The army may be this big, giant machine, but we aren’t cogs. We’re still people.”

“You are the epitome of that, Sir,” he says. “Honestly, when you asked for the list to talk to the men, I didn’t think they would give you the time of day. With you being a captain. Because of Captain Schmidt, anyone that rank or higher seems to trigger that PTSD I was telling you about.”

“C’mon,” I say to the two of them. “Sit down for a moment.” We sit down at the table where the bitch session happened. “You are correct, Meyers. When I first asked for directions to Ritters quarters, I encountered that. Your men are very, very gun shy around the higher ranked brass.”

“How did you overcome that?” Josh asks.

“Ritter yelling at me and chewing me out, helped,” I say with a smile. “He vented his feelings loudly, drawing the men to watch what was going on. When I didn’t react negatively to that, and actively listened to what he was saying, that helped.”

“I want to improve morale in the unit,” Meyers says. “I don’t think I want each of them yelling at me, though, to accomplish that.”

“I agree with that,” I say, nodding my head. “Here’s a couple things you can do. First, were you aware that some of your men are confined to the barracks?”

“What?” Meyers says shocked. “There shouldn’t be anyone confined anymore. I found out about that when we visited the hospital. That was the first thing I did when I took over is to remove that restriction.”

“It hasn’t been,” I say. “One of the men I talked to said it was still going on.”

“I will go to each person and tell them that it’s removed,” Meyers says, angrily. “No one should be confined.”

“Bring your XO, too, Meyers,” I say. “That will help boost his credibility while also making it known you did remove that restriction. You need to find out where the ball was dropped on that.”

“Damn right I will,” he growls. “You said a couple things. What’s the second one?”

“When you go and talk to the men, what do you actually talk about?”

“I ask each of them how they are doing. What I can do to make things better,” he says.

“That’s great to start with. But, that’s also very surface level,” I say.

“What do you mean?” he asks leaning forward.

“Remember when Royce came to you to interview you?” I ask him.

“Of course, I do,” he says.

“How did you help him?” I ask.

“Well,” Meyers says slowly, remembering, “I told him he has good instincts but his questions weren’t deep.”

“Correct. Here, as the commanding officer, you have to be able to drill deep with your questions but, more importantly, make connections. How would you feel if I came up to the XO here, and asked him those questions, then, turned around and asked you those questions and then asked the next person the exact same questions?”

Meyers sits for a few moments.

“That my answer doesn’t really matter, the questions are generic,” he says.

“Correct. The last thing we want is to make the men feel that way. Have you read the book: How to Win Friends and Influence People, by Dale Carnegie? (Meyers shakes his head no). Get that book and read it. Then read it again. Highlight passages that resonate with you,” I tell him. “As the leader of this company, you can’t afford to be seen as unapproachable. You have to be able to connect with them.”

“Yes, sir,” Meyers says, standing up. Josh and I stand up, too. “I have to get those men released. I’ll ring the office and have them send the XO down here. Thank you, sir.” Meyers salutes us and we return it. Then he heads back towards his company, phone next to his ear. Josh and I watch as he walks and stops at a group of his men.

“Look at him,” I say with a smile, “becoming a better officer.”

“Yes,” Josh says beside me. “He’s going to do well.” We watch as Meyers engages with his men. “So, any thoughts?”

“Yeah,” I say, sitting back down. Josh does, too. “We have more than a morale problem with this company.”

“What did you find?” Josh says, leaning in.

“It’s little more of a hunch, but I’m damn sure of it,” I say. Josh looks at me expecting me to go on. “I think we have a traitor in this company.”

“That’s a pretty damning charge, Jim,” Josh says. “Why do you think that?”

“I saw all the signs of this when Matt was blackmailing me. I kept thinking over and over that he’d make a great intel officer. I just didn’t connect the dots that he was using our own tactics on me. That’s what’s going on here.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense, Josh. Someone, in this unit, is using our tactics against us. The moment his men heard that Karl was gone and being arrested, morale should have skyrocketed. It didn’t. The moment those seventeen men had their charges dropped, morale should have skyrocketed. It didn’t. When they were told that the chaplain was coming back, morale should have skyrocketed. It didn’t.

“There is an active campaign of disinformation and morale destabilization going on,” I conclude.

“We need to figure out who this person is, then,” Josh says. “Any idea who it could be?”

“No,” I say. “I highly doubt we would be so lucky as to find this person in the first group I talked to.”

“Do you have an idea on why this is happening?” Josh asks. “Why Meyers company?”

“That’s the wrong question, Josh, not Meyers company,” I say, “Karl’s company. What was Karl up to? What would he have done if he got the regimental XO position? We need to find Karl and we need to find who is doing this.”

“Could Karl and this person still be in contact with each other?” Josh asks.

“Sure,” I say, shrugging my shoulders, “why not? At this point, it’s all conjecture. Your guess is as good as mine. If we go down that rabbit hole, we could presume the traitor is the one who helped hide Karl and helped him get off base. Here’s a question back at you: Do we tell Meyers? He’s got enough pressure on him already. Do we want to add conjecture to it, too?”

“Is it conjecture?” Josh asks, looking right at me.

“No,” I sigh. “This feels right, Josh.”

“Then we have to tell him,” Josh says. “We can’t tell everyone that we have full faith in him and then keep this from him. That would be devastating to him. And his men if it gets out.”

“And the major?” I ask, looking at Josh.

“He put me in charge of this, while he deals with the fallout of Karl,” Josh says. Then he goes silent. His right index finger tapping the table as he thinks. “Right now, it’s conjecture that said traitor and Karl are working together. But, if this is something that Karl has a hand in, we need to let him know. I’ll inform him of our thoughts on this. Bottom line, it’s his regiment, he needs to know what’s going on in it.” And with that, we get up and head back to the office.

 

[Sklar]

Chapter 12​

It takes us a bit longer to get back to the office than we expected. Starting today, they are doing construction on base. So, with all the reroutes, we were back about 20 minutes later than when we first drove to Meyers company. I was so lost in thought when we drove out that I didn’t notice all the set up for the construction.

When we got back to the office, the major was in, so Josh went to brief him, and I headed over to my office. Still no word from the embassy. That…irks…me. The deputy director never gave me a time when she would get back to me and the impression that she left me was that I was the “favored son,” so to speak, of the IDF. I’m sure the lack of response on their end is also not sitting well with the major, too. This, on top of the fallout from Karl, is just adding to his stress level.

Once I had some names and places to work with, thank you deputy director, I was able to call my contacts in Washington. It would be nice if I could just call up Joyce at NSA and say, “Hey! I need all you’ve got on so and so down in South America.” But it doesn’t work that way. At least, not when the information doesn’t flow from the top down. By the time we get information, it’s already gone through numerous levels of classification and rechecked for accuracy. We are sitting in a unique spot because we got our information from the embassy directly, bypassing the entire intelligence community. The intelligence agencies are proud of their sources and ability to gather information. And they should be. But I was able to bypass them all. That’s going to upset the powers that be. I can’t just call up and say I need all the information they have on Carlos Rodriguiz, the son of an affluent businessman, out of the blue. They’d be like, “So, Captain Clinton, what do you need this information for? You have no operations going on there.” So, without putting myself on their radar, and getting on their shit list, I had to be creative in the information I was asking about.

But I did get it. At least some of it.

My phone beeps. That means someone in the office wants me. Otherwise, it would ring if the call came from outside the office and was transferred to me. I glance over. It’s the major.

“Sir,” I say, answering it, “how can I help?”

“Can you come to my office?” Like I am going to say no.

“Be right there, Sir,” I say, standing up and heading over.

I knock on his door. Josh opens it. I enter and he closes it. The feeling in the room is a bit tense. Both Josh and the major are calm but underneath, they are both very serious.

“Sir?” I ask, as I sit down.

“Tell me everything you found out, while you were talking to Meyers men,” the major says very quietly, looking directly at me.

I was expecting the major to want to talk to me about my conclusions. Only an idiot would think otherwise. But there is an underlying current that I wasn’t expecting.

“You told the XO that there is a traitor in Meyers company,” my inner voice says. “How else would you expect him to take it?”

“Hey, you’re back,” I think back.

“Fucking focus, we can talk later.”

I go over my conversation with Ritter and then the others, with the major. All through this, he is making notes but doesn’t take his eyes off of me. One of the first things the major drilled into his office staff, especially the interrogators, is the ability to write down what people say while never taking your eyes off of them. If you have to glance down, you could miss important tells. Also, just staring at someone is unnerving. Combine that with writing down what they are saying, without looking down, throws them off, too.

However, the major isn’t interrogating me. Well, technically, he is, but this is a different context.

I finish going over my findings and wait for the major’s response.

He just sits there.

Looking at me.

“That’s quite a leap, Captain, (Captain? Not Jim? Shit, this is serious.)” the major says, “to say that a company with low morale has a traitor in it. Especially, when there is no evidence.”

“Sir, the evidence is right in front of our eyes,” I say, calmly. I’m not being facetious and with the mood in here, I do not want to be flippant or disrespectful. “There is a serious morale problem with that company. I agree with that. It’s like night and day between the main office and the platoons. Whoever works with Meyers on a daily basis can see the changes. But the men in the platoons don’t. There were men still on lockdown, even after Meyers lifted the lockdown from Karl. Meyers thinks the battalion has a form of PTSD and that’s causing the morale problems. And while I agree there is some type of PTSD there, that’s a symptom. That’s not the problem.”

“The lack of morale is understandable from what we found, Captain. It doesn’t equate to traitor,” the major says, making notes.

“Sir, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Morale didn’t change when Karl was removed from command. Morale didn’t change when Meyers was brought in, except for the main office. Morale didn’t change when the charges were dropped against those seventeen men. Some of the men I met with had their charges dropped but are still waiting for the other shoe to drop. They just don’t believe it. They think worse is coming down the line.”

“Pessimism is a symptom of low morale, it doesn’t equate to traitor, Captain,” the major says.

“But actions, do, sir,” I say. “This is the exact play from General Armstrong’s book on Morale Destruction. Destroy it from the top and destroy it from the bottom. We are trained to do this, sir. If we look at what is happening to Meyers company and then factor in the morale destruction, it reeks of a classic Psy Ops maneuver. Someone is deliberately using our own tactics against us. And it’s working.”

“If that’s true, Captain, then why has no one else, except you, noticed this?” the major asks.

“A few reasons, sir. One, I’m in a unique position to see this (that’s for sure) (shut up!) I am an outsider looking in. Captain McClendon specifically asked me to come down and keep my eyes open. And this is what I saw. Two, No one else saw it because Karl was able to slowly consolidate power and we’ve always let the individual battalions have their own autonomy. Three, we don’t expect our own to turn on us, sir,” I say, calmly. “What happened here was something that happened over time. But now that I can see it, it’s glaringly obvious. Four, we expect to see this in combat situations, not here on our own base, in our own backyard. We can’t expect Meyers men to see it. They are in the eye of it. We at regiment didn’t see it. We were too far away. Sir, we didn’t even know how many men were being subject to UCMJ proceedings until after Karl was gone. We seriously dropped the ball there, sir. Do we even know how Karl was able to send the Chaplain overseas? (the major shakes his head) We didn’t even know that the XO was stripped of his powers. If Captain McClendon didn’t ask me to come along this morning and ask me to check things out, we would still be in the dark. Someone or someone’s are working against us. That’s traitorous.”

Silence.

More silence.

“We got lucky, Jim (finally Jim!),” the major says, taking a deep breath. As soon as he says my name, the mood lightens.

“What do you mean, sir?” I ask, relaxing in my chair.

“I have to reluctantly agree with you about there being a traitor, Jim,” the major says as his eyes narrow. “What I am about to tell you does not leave this office. Paul doesn’t know. Hell, even Robbins can’t be told. The three of us and the base commander and his staff are the only ones who knows what I am about to show you. Aside from getting my ass chewed by the base commander about Karl’s fuck up, we now have this to deal with.” The major slides a folder my way.

On the cover of the folder is stamped TOP SECRET with a security clearance code on it that is two levels below the one I hold. I open it up.

There’s two pages there. The first is a cover page from the National Security Agency/Central Security Service. It’s in standard format. I look at the subject line.

SUBJ: INTERCEPTED COMMUNICATIONS FROM ROMERO CRIME SYNDICATE

The rest of the first page is standard clearance notifications on who can and can’t be disseminated this information.

What is odd is that the Romero Crime Syndicate is one of the names the deputy director told me of.

I turn the page.

There is an obvious communications intercept, translated from Portuguese, dated five days ago. I notice the highlighted part of it:

“…our operative blew his cover and fled. He was able to use our other operatives to escape his Army unit. He has every American agency looking out for him. While this may set us back, it won’t stop us. We have others in place to continue our mission. He must be picked up and debriefed. We can’t afford to have him captured by his unit. We must retrieve him at all costs. Retrieval is paramount. If Agent Schmidt is captured, he must be eliminated at all costs…”

“Holy shit,” I breathe, putting the page down.

“We need to find Karl,” the major says.

“How?” Josh asks. “He could be anywhere.”

“No,” I say with confidence, my mind starting to formulate plans, “he’s still on base.”

“How can you say that? He disappeared and no one has seen him,” Josh says.

“Because of this,” I say, stabbing the intercept with my index finger. “They specifically state they can’t afford to have him captured by his unit. The only place his unit is, is here. He’s hiding on base somewhere. And someone has seen him. The other operatives. We find them, we find Karl. When do we tell Meyers?”

“We don’t,” the major says. “This is highly classified information. Meyers doesn’t have the correct security clearance for it.”

“Sir,” I say, shocked, “it’s his unit. He needs to know.”

“No,” the major says, shaking his head. “We can’t afford to tip our hand. If we need to let others know, only those with the proper clearance will be told. That’s Paul and Robbins. But that’s if they need to know.”

“Sir,” I say, “this will negatively affect, not just morale, but trust, too. We are just now starting to rebuild the trust with his unit. Meyers has to be brought into it, otherwise it will look like we don’t trust him.”

“The mission, Captain, is to find Karl and the traitor,” the major low growled at me. “We capture them, and morale and trust will come afterwards.” Now, I am beginning to see just how much stress the major is under. Karl going rogue, under his command. Karl sending the chaplain away, under the major’s command. Karl prosecuting those men, under the major’s command. This is very personal for the major. He helped to train Karl.

“I’m sorry, sir, of course, the mission comes first. It will be difficult to do that if it’s just the three of us,” I say, as my mind starts whirling possible scenarios. It will be difficult, not impossible.

“This will be the hardest mission we’ve ever had, gentlemen,” the major says. “We are going up against traitors who know our policies and procedures. These are people we’ve sered with. They know us, we don’t know them. We don’t even know how many there are.”

“There is something else the two need to know,” I say.

“Which is what, Jim,” Josh says, leaning in.

“The Romero Crime Syndicate. They are on the list of names that the deputy director gave me,” I say, looking at the both of them.

“That’s an awfully big coincidence,” the major says.

“What other names are on that list, Jim?” Josh asks.

“There are a few,” I say. “But this file only lists the syndicate. If those names are also connected to the syndicate, I need to find out.”

“Jim,” the major says with sincerity, “I hate to put more on your plate, but this, now, is as equally important as finding the traitor in Meyers company. Can you do this?”

“For now, yes, sir, I can,” I say. This isn’t false confidence or bravado. I can do this. My Army family has been attacked and infiltrated. I will find these bastards and I will find out what their connection to the human trafficking ring is.

“So what’s our first step?” Josh asks.

“How do we find them?” the Josh asks, leaning forward.

“I’ve got some ideas,” I say. My mind starting to formulate plans, as we all start to huddle around the major’s desk, as I start to outline my ideas.

 

[Sklar]

********************STORY BREAK********************

I'm sorry for the infrequent postings for the updates.

Work has been going well but some outside factors are effecting my writing, too.

If I may ask a favor from all of you, I would appreciate some feedback on the story so far.

I have been contacted by a few who are a bit disappointed by the lack of sex, so far.

I understand your feelings. I am, too.

However, I have to go where the story brings me. I want it to feel natural to the story, not forced.

The sex is coming back (pun intended).

But I have to get there, first.

Thank you for your patience with me and the story.

I appreciate all of you,

Mark

 

[fitguy1]

Great plots and story development, but yeah … I keep reading because your sex stories are HOT!! Bring it back soon!

 

[Sklar]

Chapter 13​

Paul and I head out of the office to my car. Between Myself, Josh and the major, we spent the majority of the afternoon going over possible scenarios and have two solid game plans to try and find the traitors.

It’s the coordination that’s going to be a bitch to pull off with just three of us.

“What kept you in the major’s office all afternoon?” Paul asks, as he gets in and buckles up.

“Planning some upcoming missions,” I reply, putting on my seatbelt and then starting the car. I really would like to bring Paul in, but the major was absolutely firm in no one else at this point.

“Anything I can help with?” Paul asks, as he pulls out his phone.

“It’s all preliminary, at this point,” I say. “When it gets closer to deployment, the major will make an announcement.”

“This fucking construction is really making a mess of the roads,” Paul says, looking around. Everywhere we look, there are cones and barrels cordoning off sections of the road and surrounding ground. Congress had approved a multibillion-dollar investment into all military bases and we are now seeing the results of that. Our base is a great base, but a lot of the buildings are in need of upgrades. The roads, too.

“Fuck,” Paul mutters under his breath.

“What’s the matter?” I ask, as we approach the main gate.

“Matt still hasn’t responded to any of my calls or texts,” Paul says, frustration ringing in his voice.

“Still?” I ask, concerned. Granted it’s only been 24 hours, but this is worrisome. “Has Lisa heard from him?”

“No,” Paul says, “she’s been trying to reach him, too. No response.”

“How many times have you tried to contact him?” I ask, turning right.

“Seven times by text. Eight times by calling. The call goes right to voicemail. Lisa told me she’s getting the same results.”

“How many times has she tried?” I ask, turning left.

“You know her, she’s very methodical. She’s tried once an hour and texting on the half-hour,” Paul says, looking at his phone. Willing Matt to text or call him back.

“Jesus, that’s a lot of times,” I say, but I understand their concern. But good lord, I’d turn my phone off, too. Fuck, I DID turn my phone off, when it was those two and Charlotte trying to get in touch with me after I stormed out of Paul’s home.

“What do you expect me to do, Jim? He’s my son and he’s mad at me and missing,” Paul says with frustration.

“He probably has the phone turned off, then,” I say. “I did that when I left and headed to the hotel. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but the last thing I wanted to do was talk. Especially to the three of you. I needed to get away from everything and process what happened.”

Sadness. Remorse. Regret. Agony. Love. Ache. Paul’s shoulders starts to tremble and he starts crying. “Jimmy, I am s-s-so sorry abou-about th-thi-this.” He covers his face with his hands as the tears start to fall.

I pull over into a parking lot, just before the gate. I unbuckle my seat belt and lean over to him. The middle console makes it difficult, but not impossible, for me to hug him. I just pull him into me and let him cry himself out. A few people walk by and look in but keep going. What? They’ve never seen a grown man cry before?

Damn, it, Matt. Call your father. Call your mother. Fuck, call me! I’m the one you’ve been fucking training all these weeks!

But I can’t be mad at Matt. I did the same fucking thing. I went radio silence for almost 12 hours, because I was so pissed off.

The real question is why aren’t you still just as pissed.

Hey, I say back to my inner voice. I was. I was pissed at all three of them. I was pissed at myself. Hell, I was pissed at the whole fucking world. But I talked to Josh and he helped me put it into perspective.

Who does Matt have to talk to? To help him put it into perspective.

That stumps me. For all that I got to know Matt and his desires and his training of me <dick throb> What?? Fuck! This is the last thing I need right now is to throw an erection hugging Paul. Fuck. Focus! What do I actually know about him, socially? His peers? His friends? He mentioned his ex-girlfriend, Melissa. He’s on the Track & Field team. But he was the only member of the team that I had paid attention to. Who would Matt confide in?

I…I don’t know.

Exactly. If he’s going through what you went through, if he’s going through the same process in his head that is going on in your head, he’s going to be very confused, pissed off and making bad decisions, thinking he knows everything there is to know.

What do you mean “going on in my head?”

Do you know how fucked up things got in here? I’m still trying to work things out.

What do you mean “fucked up things got in here?” I feel fine.

Sigh. How can I put this? This is a bad analogy but work with me. Your brain processes hundreds of thousands of pieces of information a day from your senses: Sight, Sound, Taste, Touch, Smell, Emotions, Vestibular and Proprioception. Every time a new piece of information comes in, it’s processed, reviewed, cataloged, stored and incorporated into who you are.

Wait. That’s not right. There’s only 5 senses. You listed eight and I don’t even know the last two.

You know them, you just forgot them. I know them because you know them, but I can remember them, whereas you just forgot about them.

That makes no sense. Those last two don’t even remotely sound real and when are emotions a sense?

I’m going to ignore that last question, dense one. Are you telling me you can’t tell when someone is happy, sad or melancholy? You can sense that. As for the other two, ask Char. She was the one that told you back when you were in college.

How do you remember that, but I don’t?

I just do. How does your HUD work?

It just... Oh, okay, I understand that analogy. So, ask Char?

Ask Char. I’ve still got to navigate my way around in here. There’s a lot of new shit in here.

What do you mean?

Things were nice and tidy in here. Until it wasn’t.

When they told me they knew about the affair and Lisa being pregnant.

PPPPFFFFTTTT. Nope. Long before that.

What do you mean: Nope.

“Thank you, Jimmy,” Paul says, breaking into my thoughts, breathing deeply. His left hand on the side of my head. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, Paul, I’m here for you,” I say, “We all made this mess. We need to work through this. Together. Anything it takes.”

“Anything, Jimmy?” Paul says, sniffling.

“Anything,” I say, placing my left hand on the back of his head, looking him in the eye.

Paul leans in and kisses me.

<DICK THROB>

I kiss him back.

Just like when it was us, while everyone else was away.

<DICK THROB>

Ffffuuuuccckkkk…..

We break the kiss.

There are a couple of people beside the car, looking in.

I roll down the window. “Enjoying the show?” I ask very sternly. They at least have the good grace to look shocked and then mumble something and walk away.

Yeah, that’s going to make the gossip rounds.

You can say that…

Shut up!

“C’mon, buckle up, let’s go back home,” I say, taking a deep breath. We buckle up and I leave the parking lot and am waved out of the gate. We drive a bit and I reach out and hold Paul’s right hand.

“Paul?”

“Yes, Jimmy?” he says, as I feel the warmth of his hand on mine.

“Why did you seduce me?” I ask. His hand slightly jerks in mine but stays there.

“I was drunk,” he says, softly, blushing.

“Paul,” I say, giggling a little bit, turning my head a little and giving him the “look.” “You brought over a twenty-four pack of lite beer. I’ve seen you drink those like they are cola. You weren’t drunk. You planned it. C’mon, bro, tell me.” I squeeze his hand gently.

Paul squeezes my hand back. Hard. Long. And then relaxes his grip.

There is a war going on inside of him: Love. Truth. Fear. Acceptance. Friendship. But, again, just like that Sunday night, fear wins out.

“I can’t tell you, Jimmy,” he says softly, voice cracking.

FUCK.

I feel like this is crucial and goes to the heart of the matter. But I can’t force it from him.

Courage.

“But,” he says slowly, “I will when all of us are together. I promise.” Earnestness. TRUTH!

I bring his hand up to my lips and kiss it.

“I believe you, Paul,” I say.

“Jimmy,” Paul says with quiet desperation, “please help me find my son.”

His son.

The boy who blackmailed me.

<dick throb>

The boy who trained me to be his sub.

<Dick Throb>

The man whose dick has been down my throat so many times I lost count.

<Dick Throb>

Stop it!

The man who I was training myself to take his cock.

<DICK Throb>

FUCKING STOP IT!

The man who...

<DICK THRO…>

I SAID FUCKING STOP!

<ob>

“Of course, I’ll help you find Matt, Paul,” I say, squeezing his hand back as we drive home. Sweating just a little bit.

 

[fitguy1]

Okay, the dick throbs are back!! Now - full on sex!!

 

[MisterD1790]

Missing this

 

[fitguy1]

Damn - was all Excited there was a new post! We miss you @Sklar!!

 

[JackM]

I must admit I've been disappointed in the story for a while. After a very good - and horny - run it seemed to transition suddenly from an erotic story to a thriller with little erotic content. I like thrillers but they aren't what I come here for.

 

[Sklar]

Chapter 14​

As I walk towards the front door, I can tell Charlotte is in the living room. I open the door and she looks over at me.

“Hey, how was work?” she asks, turning to face me. She is in a better mood than she was when she left for work this morning. Come to think of it, so am I. She is more calm and collected than I’ve seen her since this all went down.

“Oh, you know,” I say, taking off my shoes and joining her on the couch, “a bunch of crap I have to take care and can’t talk to anyone about.”

“So, same ol’, same ol’?” she quips leaning into me. She is radiating calmness but there is some trace of weariness and resignation.

“You’re in a much better mood today,” I say, leaning over to kiss her.

“I am,” she says, with a sigh. “It’s amazing how life throws curveballs at you and then the universe helps to put things in perspective.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, as I turn on the couch and face her. She turns to face me, too.

“Don’t get me wrong, honey,” she says with a sigh. “I’m not happy about being pregnant. And I am still feeling bad about my role in all of this. And I am still wrapping my brain around Matt blackmailing you. Those are the curveballs I was talking about.”

“Those are some pretty hefty curveballs,” I quip. “What did the universe do?”

“My new case,” she says, very succinctly. “I was working with Jordan.”

“The pathologist that helped with the case in Virginia?” I asked, to make sure I knew who she was talking about.

“Yes,” she says, nodding her head. “We were continuing the autopsy. So, he was on one side of the body, I was on the other side. And I just kept looking at her. She was in her mid-20’s. Her body was found just on our side of the state line. She had been both physically and sexually abused before she died. Even in death, it didn’t look like she was resting. She still looked like she was in pain.”

“And this is the universe helping you?” I asked, with a bit of disbelief.

“Yes, here I am, pregnant with a child I wasn’t expecting. Not even knowing if you or Matt will be the father. Racked with guilt because of my actions. Wondering how the fuck am I going to work this out. I couldn’t even focus. And there in front of me, was a woman who will never have children. Whose family doesn’t know where she is. Heaven knows how long she was tortured and abused before she was finally murdered. Whose last moments of life were of fear and pain and terror. We don’t even know who she is. She’s just an anonymous corpse.

“But I am alive. I have people I care about. I have Lisa. I have Paul. Hell, I even have Matt, that little shit head,” She says, grinning. “I have mother. Holy fuck, mother is going to be so surprised. She honestly thought I had my tubes tied years ago. But most of all,” she says, taking my hands in hers, “I have you. The man I love more than anything. By all rights, you should have kicked me out. You should be yelling at me at the top of your lungs or just not talking to me. You could have kicked me out or just left yourself. Hell, if you were anyone else, it could have been me on that slab, too. This world we are both part of, we rarely see the good in people. It’s a dark, evil world we work in, Jim. But you (hand squeeze) you are good people. You are my rock <dick throb>. You are my example of the inherent goodness in people <dick throb>. You were fighting for our marriage before and you’re allowing me to fight for our marriage now. Who else would do that <dick throb>? You’re my husband, Jim <dick throb>. You’re my best friend <dick throb>. I want to grow old with you, Jim <dick throb>. I want to raise this baby with you <dick throb>. You’ve become the man I fell in love with and married <dick throb> and I am so glad he’s back!”

All through her speech, Charlotte is radiating love, sincerity and honesty. She is truly remorseful for her part and grateful that we are trying to work this out. Her emotions wash out of her and roll over into me, and my body, my soul, just seems to drink it in. I am filled with her honesty and love. And it merges in me with my love for her <dick throb>. She literally is my better half <Dick THrob>.

Without her, I never would have survived the blackmail.

<DICK Throb>

Without the blackmail, I never would have been put on the correct path to go back to being the man I was.

<DICK THROB>

And now that she is done speaking, she is just glowing.

<DICK THROB>

I keep her hands in mine as I stand up. She rises with me. I lean over and kiss her.

Gently on the lips.

<SPLURT>

She responds back, pressing hers to mine.

I pick her up and cradle her in my arms as we kiss gently.

<DICK THROB>

Passionately.

I slowly walk down the hallway to our bedroom.

I feel the heat from her body merge with mine as her breathing deepens.

Her nipples become hard and stand out under her blouse.

I walk over to the bed and gently stand her beside the bed. I kneel in front of her and gently run my hands up and down her right leg <Dick Throb>. She’s wearing a skirt today. As I run my hands up and down her leg, I slowly start to increase pressure on her leg. Gently kneading it as my hands move up and down her leg. I lean into her and start to lick her through her skirt.

<Dick Throb>

Charlotte gently puts her hands on my head and gently presses me into her as my tongue licks up and down. She smells so…so…perfect.

<DICK THROB>

I let out a low moan from that dick throb. My cock is trying to escape my underwear. But my underwear has it secured well. It’s throbbing in time with my heartbeat. And it’s staying put. Throbbing in pleasure/frustration.

And it feels ssssoooo good!

<DICK THROB>

<SPLURT>

“FFuucckkk,” I whisper softly as I keep licking her. I’m licking her skirt so much that it’s getting stained from my spit. My hands are at the top of her leg, where her pantyhose meets her panties. And they start to gently move her flesh one way, then the other.

<DICK THROB>

I take a deep breath in as I continue my licking. I want to smell my wife. I want to breathe her in. I want her essence inside of me.

So, I breathe in deeper as I lick slowly and methodically.

I find the top of her pantyhose and slowly start to draw it down her leg.

Her hands on my head increase their pressure, slightly, as she lifts her right leg up so I can remove the hose. All the while, I moving my face in a small, tight, circle as I keep licking her through her skirt.

Her smell is getting stronger.

<ddiicckk Throb>

Fuck, that’s delicious.

I fold up her pantyhose and place it to my left. Just as I was taught to do:

He reaches down, cups my chin in his hand and pulls my head up, while I am still kneeling. “Never drop my clothing on the floor like it’s a rag. Pick it up, fold it, and set it down.”

Even though I’m not his sub anymore, it makes perfect sense. It just seems right. Respectful. Natural.

<SPLURT>

Fuck! That felt good!

I move my hands to her left leg. I move my hands even more slowly over her left leg. As I do that, Charlotte takes her hands and moves them to her right side, at her hip. She undoes her skirt and I lean back as she unwraps it.

As soon as she takes it off, I lean back in and start to lick her through her panty.

<Dick Throb>

Which is wet.

<DICK Throb>

And smells so ggggooooooooddd

<DICK THROB>

<SPLURT>

<SPLURT>

FUCK!

I feel my cum splatter against my balls.

<DICK THROB>

I ignore that pleasure and keep concentrating on her.

My wife.

<DICK THROB>

“Rule number one, boy,” he says, slowly, “MY pleasure is your greatest desire. Repeat it, boy.”

Her pleasure is my greatest desire, too.

<SSPPLLUURRTT>

Jesus, fucking Christ! That feeling.

THAT FEELING!!!!

Normally, when we have sex, it’s wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.

Fast.

Frantic

Intense

But putting her needs first.

Making sure SHE’S being taken care of.

Fuck, that’s true pleasure.

<SSSPPPLLLUUURRRTTT>

God Damn Mother fucker!

I lean back on my knees for a moment to catch my breath.

I look up at my wife.

She’s standing above me. Wearing panties, looking down at me.

Her right leg Is bare, her panties (blue) are at face level to me.

Her left leg still has pantyhose on. But she also has her knife holstered on it.

I keep looking up her body.

Her blouse is tighter than normal.

Her breasts are so big.

So firm.

She is looking down at me, radiating love, peace, happiness.

And it washes over me.

I sit back up and reach over to her left leg.

I take off her knife holster and set it beside her.

I lean back in and lick her.

And smell her.

And she is ssssoooo WET!

And her scent is so overpowering with the skirt off.

<DICK THROB>

Yeah, baby.

Dick Throb. For my wife. From my wife!

I breathe in deeper, filling my lungs with her.

Tasting her on my tongue.

My hands are slowly kneading her left leg, as they work their way up to the top of her leg.

As they reach the top of the hose, they, again, hook the top of the hose and slowly pull them down.

She again puts her hands on my head for stability.

I slowly lower the hose as she lifts her leg up and I remove them.

I am still licking her <dick Throb> and smelling her <DICK THROB> fuck (!) as I start to fold her hose again.

She removes her hands from my head and reaches down and takes the hose from my hands. She wraps her right hand with one end of the hose and her left hand with the other end.

Then she places the hose behind my head and draws me into her pussy.

<DICK THOB>

FFUUCCKK

I start to lick and nibble faster and feel her start to leak more.

She takes the hose and moves it left and right on the back of my head, turning my head with it as she controls me.

<DICK THROB>

<DICK THROB>

<DICK THROB>

<SSSSPPPPLLLLUUUURRRRTTTT>

“FUCK,” I yell out as that white wall of pleasure erupts out of my cock and races up my body, into my head and focuses itself into a ball on my tongue as I keep licking her.

Every time I lick her with that white ball of pleasure, she lets out a sound of pleasure and forces my head deeper into her pussy with the hose at the back of my head. She is gyrating her hips trying to get me to lick more of her.

And I do.

As I lick more of her, using the flat of my tongue, that white ball of pleasure seems to coat her, where I lick. Her breathing gets shallower but she’s putting all her strength into the hose to keep my tongue deep in her.

I bring my hands up to her hips and grasp the top of her panties and pull them down a little. Now that they are out of my way, I dive in there, spreading that white ball of pleasure all over her.

“Oh, God,” she starts say with deep breaths.

I can finally stick my tongue all the way in there, shoving that white ball of pleasure deep inside her.

“SSSHHHIIITTTT….” She yells as she draws me in even more with her hose on the back of my head.

My face is being coated with her juices.

And I am swallowing as much as I can.

She is radiating pure pleasure, and I am absorbing that as much as I can.

After a few moments, she releases my head but puts her hands on it. I have my hands on the back of both of her legs and I can feel them quivering, as if she can’t stand up for long.

I just sit there, leaning into her, slowly licking the outside of her pussy.

That white ball of pleasure is gone.

But, FUCK, that white ball of pleasure!

Holy shit!

“Stand up, Jim,” Charlotte asks, gently.

I do.

“You’re turn,” she says, with a mischievous smile, as she slowly sinks to her knees. It’s at this point that I realize that I’m still dressed in my camouflage uniform. Charlotte slowly unbuttons my cammie trousers and they fall to the floor.

I’m wearing red boxer briefs and that bulge!

Fuck.

I swear it would rival Matt’s!

My cock is fat from all those mother fucking dick throbs. When my cock is limp, it hangs straight down in front of my balls. But my cock grew and it grew down in a C shape. The head of my cock is actually below my balls leaking and splurting the bottom of them.

Charlotte leans forward and with the top of her tongue, licks my balls and head.

<SPLURT>

FUCK!

My right leg is starting to piston up and down.

Charlotte is doing long licks up my shaft.

<DICK THROB>

Then down my shaft.

<D
<I
<C
<K

<T
<H
<R
<O
<B>

“FFFFFFUUUUCccckkkkkkkkk,” I moan as it feels as if my entire shaft is throbbing in pleasure.

Charlotte leans back and reaches to her left. She grabs her knife holster and takes out her knife. The knife is in her left hand. Mischievousness and naughtiness start to radiate from her.

“Put your hands on my head, Jim,” she says.

I have zero idea what’s going on <DICK THROB>.

MOTHER FUCKER!!!!!!

<SPLURTTTTT>

Jesus fucking CHRIST!!!!

That almost sent me to my knees!

“Put you hands on my head, Jim,” she repeats. I quickly do so. That feeling of mischievousness and naughtiness intensifies. But I trust my wife. She leans back in and starts to suck on my balls through my underwear.

Jesus!

Then, I feel the flat of her blade slide between me and my briefs, while she still sucks on my balls. I feel the hilt hit the bottom of my briefs and in a quick flip of her wrist, she slices my briefs off with her left hand and her right hand yanks them away.

Her mouth is now on my balls, sucking ferociously <DICK THROB>.

And my newly freed cock is slams into my cammie top.

<FWUMP>

FUCK!!

I feel leakage bubbling out of my head and run down my shaft.

And Char is still sucking on my balls.

<rumble>

Oh, Fuck!

<Rumble>

Oh, fuck, no!

It’s happening again.

I’m going to blow like Mt Vesuvius!

<RUMBLE>

That churning at the base of my cock.

Holy fuck!

I close my eyes.

Willing my legs to stay strong.

Forcing myself to not pass out from this.

Dimly, I hear a thunk from something hitting the floor.

<RUMBLE>

<DICK THROB>

SHIT

<RUMBLE>

<DICK THROB>

FUCKING A!!

My hips start gyrating as, again, that white wall of pleasure starts to churn and bubble at the base of my cock.

My cock is pointing to my chin and leaking precum like a broken hose.

And then, I feel Char do something.

I open my eyes and look down.

She took one of her pantyhose legs and wrapped it under my balls and up and around the base of my cock and tied it off.

I feel that rumbling hit the hose and bounce off.

And it hits it again!

And bounces off!

And it stays there.

Hitting it

Bouncing off

Hitting it

Bouncing off

And it feels ssssssooooo gooood,

Like something has it in check but not letting go.

And my cock…

Jesus

My COCK

Looks meaner

<RUMBLE>

Looks thicker

<RUMBLE>

Looks so fucking ribbed.

<RUMBLE>

All the veins are popping like it was a body building competition.

<RUMBLE>
<BOUNCE>

And all that pleasure is locked in.

<RUMBLE>
<BOUNCE>

SHIT!

Not going anywhere.

SHIT!
SHIT!
FFFUUUCCCKKKK

Char lifts my trousers back up and fastens the top button.

I literally look like a porn cover.

Full camouflage uniform.

Massive hard on sticking out of it.

In this issue of Soldiers Weekly, Captain Clinton shows off his rifle!

Fuckkkkkkk

Char gets up off her knees.

“Lay down on the bed, Jim,” she says.

And I do.

I so FUCKING do!

Head at the headboard.

Feet close to the footboard

And my massive nine inch cock, flat against my uniform top.

Leaking like a mother fucker.

Looking mean.

<DICK THROB>

Looking thick.

<DICK THROB>

Veins popping out.

<DICK THROB>

Char slides up my body to just below my cock and balls.

With her right hand, she lifts my cock up.

<DICK THROB>

<FLEX>

SSSSSHhhhhiiiittttt

My big, fucking cock pointing to the ceiling.

She raises herself up and places my head at her lips.

And starts to sink onto it.

<RUMBLE>

<BOUNCE>

And I feel her

Slowly, pistoning up and down.

<RUMBLE>
<BOUNCE>

FUCK!

Getting lower and lower on my cock.

The lower she gets on my cock

The more that rumbling intensifies.

That white wall of pleasure is stuck behind the hose.

Trying to find any weakness, any way to escape and shoot up my cock and out.

And failing.

<RUMBLE>

<BOUNCE>

FUCKKKK

Finally, like a bell going off in my head, I feel Char bottom out on me.

She is breathing in and her chest expands.

She gyrates her hips on my pelvis.

I swear to god, I feel my cock expand in her pussy.

I feel each of those ribs press into her tight walls.

And I feel her squeeze those walls and they tighten around my shaft.

And I fucking FFFFLLLLEEEEXXXX my cock against it.

Then I feel Char lift up and little

And slam back down.

<DICK THROB>

<RUMBLE>

<BOUNCE>

FUCK!

Again, she does that

<DICK THROB>
<RUMBLE>
<RUMBLE>
<BOUNCE>

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUCK

If I was fucking Char, I would consider this long fucking her.

But she’s long fucking me.

And her hose is preventing me from cumming!

I can feel my cock get thicker and thicker as more blood is trapped in it.

It’s like being on the verge of the best orgasm

EVER

And having a case of blue balls!

SHIT

FUCK

SHIT

FUCK

And it feels so damn good and painful at the same time!

She starts bouncing faster and faster

<DICK THRUMBLE>

<DICK THRUMBLE>

<DICK THRUMBLE>

Fuck they’re combining!

My vision starts to blur.

My arms are forced straight out from my body.

They are clawing at the comforter, pulling it toward me.

I feel Char reach down and grab the hose.

She must have had some type of slip knot because she yanks the hose free.

And all the pleasure is suddenly released!

Like a tornado of fire/pleasure, that white wall blasts free.

Cork screwing its way up my cock and deep into Char’s pussy.

My hands grab her waist, pull her deeper onto my cock as my hips buck up.

I’m only on my shoulder blades and the back of my heels.

I can’t hear anything because of the roar of pleasure that echoes in my ears.

Then, like a rocket that’s lost it’s fuel, my body collapses back onto the bed.

Char collapsing onto me as my arms encircle her to make sure she is safe and slowly roll onto my left side.

I’m breathing deeply into her face.

She’s wrapped her arms around me.

My cock, Jesus, my cock is still hard inside her pulsing in time with my heartbeat.

I see flashes of white dance between my body and Chars.

My hips slowly pushing in and out of Char’s pussy.

I can feel how soaked my trousers are.

Char is breathing deeply next to me. I kiss her on her forehead and slowly we unwrap ourselves from each other.

Breaking apart.

Laying on our backs

Breathing deeply.

My cock is still fucking hard.

And drooling pre like a dying spigot.

And, with the exception of our heavy breathing, the room is silent.

I take deep, soothing breaths, to calm my racing heart.

I don’t know how long I do that for, but, eventually, my heartbeat gets back to normal.

My vision clears up.

I roll onto my left side as Char rolls onto her left and we spoon together.

And with my wife half naked beside me, we fall asleep.

 

[fitguy1]

Welcome back!!! Hope Matt returns soon and puts everyone in their place. I miss his ALPHA HORSE HUNG CONFIDENCE!

 

[ndamood4sum]

I KNEW IT HAHAHA, I CALLED IT, I knew Char had a part in this I just knew it. You dropped really subtle hints through out.

I'm now wondering why matt is so bothered by the "betrayal" when he himself has been acting the same. I still think he's been working with char this whole time so I guess we'll wait and see.

Jim's reaction is interesting because even though he was lied to and everyone was in on it, it certainly wasn't by force. He may have been "setup" but realistically no one put a gun to his head he started off saying no but he caved due to his ego and quite frankly his lack of self control when he's horny. And not only did he cave with lisa he then started cheating with matt (to begin with) then paul. None of them forced him including matt because let's be real he allowed Matt to control him because it turned him on.

If Jim had some self control and didn't allow the compliments about his man hood get to his head the manipulation wouldn't have worked.

But Char ohh she's a villain even now all this crying I dont trust her

I almost agreed with everything you said here. Where we differ is the Matt & Jim thing. Yes Jim said yes to Lisa and when Matt found out he was happy their lives were better but he also wanted something out of it. Jim had everything to lose at that point (allbeit by his own doing) but Matt really didn't give him a choice. He quickly understood that he had to comply or attend Matt's funeral. Those were his two options at the time.

 

[Anime2]

I almost agreed with everything you said here. Where we differ is the Matt & Jim thing. Yes Jim said yes to Lisa and when Matt found out he was happy their lives were better but he also wanted something out of it. Jim had everything to lose at that point (allbeit by his own doing) but Matt really didn't give him a choice. He quickly understood that he had to comply or attend Matt's funeral. Those were his two options at the time.

I would also agree with you but Jim showed in a couple of situations that actually I'M IN CONTROL of this situation. Jim is smart enough and manipulative enough that if he wanted to handle matt without killing him he could have. He was just super turn on by Matt's man hood that he ALLOWED himself to be controlled by matt.

 

[Anime2]

I must admit I've been disappointed in the story for a while. After a very good - and horny - run it seemed to transition suddenly from an erotic story to a thriller with little erotic content. I like thrillers but they aren't what I come here for.

You're entitled to your opinion and this isnt a reply to say you're wrong.

I also enjoy erotic stories hence why I'm here, however overall I'm looking for good writing. I find it annoying when a writer adds a sex scene in just because and it makes no sense to the story. I'll be honest I found some the early interactions with matt and jim annoying because it was clear jim could handle Matt so it was a bit of an annoying read.

I'm not a fan of rapey stories more specifically rapey stories when the victim has the power to not be in that situation but keeps ending up getting fucked for no apparent reason or "tricked" into a sexual situations

 

[ndamood4sum]

Chapter 13​

Paul and I head out of the office to my car. Between Myself, Josh and the major, we spent the majority of the afternoon going over possible scenarios and have two solid game plans to try and find the traitors.

It’s the coordination that’s going to be a bitch to pull off with just three of us.

“What kept you in the major’s office all afternoon?” Paul asks, as he gets in and buckles up.

“Planning some upcoming missions,” I reply, putting on my seatbelt and then starting the car. I really would like to bring Paul in, but the major was absolutely firm in no one else at this point.

“Anything I can help with?” Paul asks, as he pulls out his phone.

“It’s all preliminary, at this point,” I say. “When it gets closer to deployment, the major will make an announcement.”

“This fucking construction is really making a mess of the roads,” Paul says, looking around. Everywhere we look, there are cones and barrels cordoning off sections of the road and surrounding ground. Congress had approved a multibillion-dollar investment into all military bases and we are now seeing the results of that. Our base is a great base, but a lot of the buildings are in need of upgrades. The roads, too.

“Fuck,” Paul mutters under his breath.

“What’s the matter?” I ask, as we approach the main gate.

“Matt still hasn’t responded to any of my calls or texts,” Paul says, frustration ringing in his voice.

“Still?” I ask, concerned. Granted it’s only been 24 hours, but this is worrisome. “Has Lisa heard from him?”

“No,” Paul says, “she’s been trying to reach him, too. No response.”

“How many times have you tried to contact him?” I ask, turning right.

“Seven times by text. Eight times by calling. The call goes right to voicemail. Lisa told me she’s getting the same results.”

“How many times has she tried?” I ask, turning left.

“You know her, she’s very methodical. She’s tried once an hour and texting on the half-hour,” Paul says, looking at his phone. Willing Matt to text or call him back.

“Jesus, that’s a lot of times,” I say, but I understand their concern. But good lord, I’d turn my phone off, too. Fuck, I DID turn my phone off, when it was those two and Charlotte trying to get in touch with me after I stormed out of Paul’s home.

“What do you expect me to do, Jim? He’s my son and he’s mad at me and missing,” Paul says with frustration.

“He probably has the phone turned off, then,” I say. “I did that when I left and headed to the hotel. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but the last thing I wanted to do was talk. Especially to the three of you. I needed to get away from everything and process what happened.”

Sadness. Remorse. Regret. Agony. Love. Ache. Paul’s shoulders starts to tremble and he starts crying. “Jimmy, I am s-s-so sorry abou-about th-thi-this.” He covers his face with his hands as the tears start to fall.

I pull over into a parking lot, just before the gate. I unbuckle my seat belt and lean over to him. The middle console makes it difficult, but not impossible, for me to hug him. I just pull him into me and let him cry himself out. A few people walk by and look in but keep going. What? They’ve never seen a grown man cry before?

Damn, it, Matt. Call your father. Call your mother. Fuck, call me! I’m the one you’ve been fucking training all these weeks!

But I can’t be mad at Matt. I did the same fucking thing. I went radio silence for almost 12 hours, because I was so pissed off.

The real question is why aren’t you still just as pissed.

Hey, I say back to my inner voice. I was. I was pissed at all three of them. I was pissed at myself. Hell, I was pissed at the whole fucking world. But I talked to Josh and he helped me put it into perspective.

Who does Matt have to talk to? To help him put it into perspective.

That stumps me. For all that I got to know Matt and his desires and his training of me <dick throb> What?? Fuck! This is the last thing I need right now is to throw an erection hugging Paul. Fuck. Focus! What do I actually know about him, socially? His peers? His friends? He mentioned his ex-girlfriend, Melissa. He’s on the Track & Field team. But he was the only member of the team that I had paid attention to. Who would Matt confide in?

I…I don’t know.

Exactly. If he’s going through what you went through, if he’s going through the same process in his head that is going on in your head, he’s going to be very confused, pissed off and making bad decisions, thinking he knows everything there is to know.

What do you mean “going on in my head?”

Do you know how fucked up things got in here? I’m still trying to work things out.

What do you mean “fucked up things got in here?” I feel fine.

Sigh. How can I put this? This is a bad analogy but work with me. Your brain processes hundreds of thousands of pieces of information a day from your senses: Sight, Sound, Taste, Touch, Smell, Emotions, Vestibular and Proprioception. Every time a new piece of information comes in, it’s processed, reviewed, cataloged, stored and incorporated into who you are.

Wait. That’s not right. There’s only 5 senses. You listed eight and I don’t even know the last two.

You know them, you just forgot them. I know them because you know them, but I can remember them, whereas you just forgot about them.

That makes no sense. Those last two don’t even remotely sound real and when are emotions a sense?

I’m going to ignore that last question, dense one. Are you telling me you can’t tell when someone is happy, sad or melancholy? You can sense that. As for the other two, ask Char. She was the one that told you back when you were in college.

How do you remember that, but I don’t?

I just do. How does your HUD work?

It just... Oh, okay, I understand that analogy. So, ask Char?

Ask Char. I’ve still got to navigate my way around in here. There’s a lot of new shit in here.

What do you mean?

Things were nice and tidy in here. Until it wasn’t.

When they told me they knew about the affair and Lisa being pregnant.

PPPPFFFFTTTT. Nope. Long before that.

What do you mean: Nope.

“Thank you, Jimmy,” Paul says, breaking into my thoughts, breathing deeply. His left hand on the side of my head. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, Paul, I’m here for you,” I say, “We all made this mess. We need to work through this. Together. Anything it takes.”

“Anything, Jimmy?” Paul says, sniffling.

“Anything,” I say, placing my left hand on the back of his head, looking him in the eye.

Paul leans in and kisses me.

<DICK THROB>

I kiss him back.

Just like when it was us, while everyone else was away.

<DICK THROB>

Ffffuuuuccckkkk…..

We break the kiss.

There are a couple of people beside the car, looking in.

I roll down the window. “Enjoying the show?” I ask very sternly. They at least have the good grace to look shocked and then mumble something and walk away.

Yeah, that’s going to make the gossip rounds.

You can say that…

Shut up!

“C’mon, buckle up, let’s go back home,” I say, taking a deep breath. We buckle up and I leave the parking lot and am waved out of the gate. We drive a bit and I reach out and hold Paul’s right hand.

“Paul?”

“Yes, Jimmy?” he says, as I feel the warmth of his hand on mine.

“Why did you seduce me?” I ask. His hand slightly jerks in mine but stays there.

“I was drunk,” he says, softly, blushing.

“Paul,” I say, giggling a little bit, turning my head a little and giving him the “look.” “You brought over a twenty-four pack of lite beer. I’ve seen you drink those like they are cola. You weren’t drunk. You planned it. C’mon, bro, tell me.” I squeeze his hand gently.

Paul squeezes my hand back. Hard. Long. And then relaxes his grip.

There is a war going on inside of him: Love. Truth. Fear. Acceptance. Friendship. But, again, just like that Sunday night, fear wins out.

“I can’t tell you, Jimmy,” he says softly, voice cracking.

FUCK.

I feel like this is crucial and goes to the heart of the matter. But I can’t force it from him.

Courage.

“But,” he says slowly, “I will when all of us are together. I promise.” Earnestness. TRUTH!

I bring his hand up to my lips and kiss it.

“I believe you, Paul,” I say.

“Jimmy,” Paul says with quiet desperation, “please help me find my son.”

His son.

The boy who blackmailed me.

<dick throb>

The boy who trained me to be his sub.

<Dick Throb>

The man whose dick has been down my throat so many times I lost count.

<Dick Throb>

Stop it!

The man who I was training myself to take his cock.

<DICK Throb>

FUCKING STOP IT!

The man who...

<DICK THRO…>

I SAID FUCKING STOP!

<ob>

“Of course, I’ll help you find Matt, Paul,” I say, squeezing his hand back as we drive home. Sweating just a little bit.

I can be patient and realize not every story needs to have sucking, rimming and fucking in every chapter. But in the absence of that kind of content, the hard ons and all of the other sexual suggestions should also go away.

If you insist on having conversations with yourself in your mind, can you please find another way to show this instead of using quotation marks. Maybe use the single quotation mark. Yes I know that not how they are supposed to be used, but there should be a way to identify when you are talking to someone else or having a conversation in your head.

Does anyone other than his wife and Josh know about Matt training Jimmy how to be a sub or know about the threesome they had?

 

[ndamood4sum]

Chapter 14​

As I walk towards the front door, I can tell Charlotte is in the living room. I open the door and she looks over at me.

“Hey, how was work?” she asks, turning to face me. She is in a better mood than she was when she left for work this morning. Come to think of it, so am I. She is more calm and collected than I’ve seen her since this all went down.

“Oh, you know,” I say, taking off my shoes and joining her on the couch, “a bunch of crap I have to take care and can’t talk to anyone about.”

“So, same ol’, same ol’?” she quips leaning into me. She is radiating calmness but there is some trace of weariness and resignation.

“You’re in a much better mood today,” I say, leaning over to kiss her.

“I am,” she says, with a sigh. “It’s amazing how life throws curveballs at you and then the universe helps to put things in perspective.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, as I turn on the couch and face her. She turns to face me, too.

“Don’t get me wrong, honey,” she says with a sigh. “I’m not happy about being pregnant. And I am still feeling bad about my role in all of this. And I am still wrapping my brain around Matt blackmailing you. Those are the curveballs I was talking about.”

“Those are some pretty hefty curveballs,” I quip. “What did the universe do?”

“My new case,” she says, very succinctly. “I was working with Jordan.”

“The pathologist that helped with the case in Virginia?” I asked, to make sure I knew who she was talking about.

“Yes,” she says, nodding her head. “We were continuing the autopsy. So, he was on one side of the body, I was on the other side. And I just kept looking at her. She was in her mid-20’s. Her body was found just on our side of the state line. She had been both physically and sexually abused before she died. Even in death, it didn’t look like she was resting. She still looked like she was in pain.”

“And this is the universe helping you?” I asked, with a bit of disbelief.

“Yes, here I am, pregnant with a child I wasn’t expecting. Not even knowing if you or Matt will be the father. Racked with guilt because of my actions. Wondering how the fuck am I going to work this out. I couldn’t even focus. And there in front of me, was a woman who will never have children. Whose family doesn’t know where she is. Heaven knows how long she was tortured and abused before she was finally murdered. Whose last moments of life were of fear and pain and terror. We don’t even know who she is. She’s just an anonymous corpse.

“But I am alive. I have people I care about. I have Lisa. I have Paul. Hell, I even have Matt, that little shit head,” She says, grinning. “I have mother. Holy fuck, mother is going to be so surprised. She honestly thought I had my tubes tied years ago. But most of all,” she says, taking my hands in hers, “I have you. The man I love more than anything. By all rights, you should have kicked me out. You should be yelling at me at the top of your lungs or just not talking to me. You could have kicked me out or just left yourself. Hell, if you were anyone else, it could have been me on that slab, too. This world we are both part of, we rarely see the good in people. It’s a dark, evil world we work in, Jim. But you (hand squeeze) you are good people. You are my rock <dick throb>. You are my example of the inherent goodness in people <dick throb>. You were fighting for our marriage before and you’re allowing me to fight for our marriage now. Who else would do that <dick throb>? You’re my husband, Jim <dick throb>. You’re my best friend <dick throb>. I want to grow old with you, Jim <dick throb>. I want to raise this baby with you <dick throb>. You’ve become the man I fell in love with and married <dick throb> and I am so glad he’s back!”

All through her speech, Charlotte is radiating love, sincerity and honesty. She is truly remorseful for her part and grateful that we are trying to work this out. Her emotions wash out of her and roll over into me, and my body, my soul, just seems to drink it in. I am filled with her honesty and love. And it merges in me with my love for her <dick throb>. She literally is my better half <Dick THrob>.

Without her, I never would have survived the blackmail.

<DICK Throb>

Without the blackmail, I never would have been put on the correct path to go back to being the man I was.

<DICK THROB>

And now that she is done speaking, she is just glowing.

<DICK THROB>

I keep her hands in mine as I stand up. She rises with me. I lean over and kiss her.

Gently on the lips.

<SPLURT>

She responds back, pressing hers to mine.

I pick her up and cradle her in my arms as we kiss gently.

<DICK THROB>

Passionately.

I slowly walk down the hallway to our bedroom.

I feel the heat from her body merge with mine as her breathing deepens.

Her nipples become hard and stand out under her blouse.

I walk over to the bed and gently stand her beside the bed. I kneel in front of her and gently run my hands up and down her right leg <Dick Throb>. She’s wearing a skirt today. As I run my hands up and down her leg, I slowly start to increase pressure on her leg. Gently kneading it as my hands move up and down her leg. I lean into her and start to lick her through her skirt.

<Dick Throb>

Charlotte gently puts her hands on my head and gently presses me into her as my tongue licks up and down. She smells so…so…perfect.

<DICK THROB>

I let out a low moan from that dick throb. My cock is trying to escape my underwear. But my underwear has it secured well. It’s throbbing in time with my heartbeat. And it’s staying put. Throbbing in pleasure/frustration.

And it feels ssssoooo good!

<DICK THROB>

<SPLURT>

“FFuucckkk,” I whisper softly as I keep licking her. I’m licking her skirt so much that it’s getting stained from my spit. My hands are at the top of her leg, where her pantyhose meets her panties. And they start to gently move her flesh one way, then the other.

<DICK THROB>

I take a deep breath in as I continue my licking. I want to smell my wife. I want to breathe her in. I want her essence inside of me.

So, I breathe in deeper as I lick slowly and methodically.

I find the top of her pantyhose and slowly start to draw it down her leg.

Her hands on my head increase their pressure, slightly, as she lifts her right leg up so I can remove the hose. All the while, I moving my face in a small, tight, circle as I keep licking her through her skirt.

Her smell is getting stronger.

<ddiicckk Throb>

Fuck, that’s delicious.

I fold up her pantyhose and place it to my left. Just as I was taught to do:

He reaches down, cups my chin in his hand and pulls my head up, while I am still kneeling. “Never drop my clothing on the floor like it’s a rag. Pick it up, fold it, and set it down.”

Even though I’m not his sub anymore, it makes perfect sense. It just seems right. Respectful. Natural.

<SPLURT>

Fuck! That felt good!

I move my hands to her left leg. I move my hands even more slowly over her left leg. As I do that, Charlotte takes her hands and moves them to her right side, at her hip. She undoes her skirt and I lean back as she unwraps it.

As soon as she takes it off, I lean back in and start to lick her through her panty.

<Dick Throb>

Which is wet.

<DICK Throb>

And smells so ggggooooooooddd

<DICK THROB>

<SPLURT>

<SPLURT>

FUCK!

I feel my cum splatter against my balls.

<DICK THROB>

I ignore that pleasure and keep concentrating on her.

My wife.

<DICK THROB>

“Rule number one, boy,” he says, slowly, “MY pleasure is your greatest desire. Repeat it, boy.”

Her pleasure is my greatest desire, too.

<SSPPLLUURRTT>

Jesus, fucking Christ! That feeling.

THAT FEELING!!!!

Normally, when we have sex, it’s wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.

Fast.

Frantic

Intense

But putting her needs first.

Making sure SHE’S being taken care of.

Fuck, that’s true pleasure.

<SSSPPPLLLUUURRRTTT>

God Damn Mother fucker!

I lean back on my knees for a moment to catch my breath.

I look up at my wife.

She’s standing above me. Wearing panties, looking down at me.

Her right leg Is bare, her panties (blue) are at face level to me.

Her left leg still has pantyhose on. But she also has her knife holstered on it.

I keep looking up her body.

Her blouse is tighter than normal.

Her breasts are so big.

So firm.

She is looking down at me, radiating love, peace, happiness.

And it washes over me.

I sit back up and reach over to her left leg.

I take off her knife holster and set it beside her.

I lean back in and lick her.

And smell her.

And she is ssssoooo WET!

And her scent is so overpowering with the skirt off.

<DICK THROB>

Yeah, baby.

Dick Throb. For my wife. From my wife!

I breathe in deeper, filling my lungs with her.

Tasting her on my tongue.

My hands are slowly kneading her left leg, as they work their way up to the top of her leg.

As they reach the top of the hose, they, again, hook the top of the hose and slowly pull them down.

She again puts her hands on my head for stability.

I slowly lower the hose as she lifts her leg up and I remove them.

I am still licking her <dick Throb> and smelling her <DICK THROB> fuck (!) as I start to fold her hose again.

She removes her hands from my head and reaches down and takes the hose from my hands. She wraps her right hand with one end of the hose and her left hand with the other end.

Then she places the hose behind my head and draws me into her pussy.

<DICK THOB>

FFUUCCKK

I start to lick and nibble faster and feel her start to leak more.

She takes the hose and moves it left and right on the back of my head, turning my head with it as she controls me.

<DICK THROB>

<DICK THROB>

<DICK THROB>

<SSSSPPPPLLLLUUUURRRRTTTT>

“FUCK,” I yell out as that white wall of pleasure erupts out of my cock and races up my body, into my head and focuses itself into a ball on my tongue as I keep licking her.

Every time I lick her with that white ball of pleasure, she lets out a sound of pleasure and forces my head deeper into her pussy with the hose at the back of my head. She is gyrating her hips trying to get me to lick more of her.

And I do.

As I lick more of her, using the flat of my tongue, that white ball of pleasure seems to coat her, where I lick. Her breathing gets shallower but she’s putting all her strength into the hose to keep my tongue deep in her.

I bring my hands up to her hips and grasp the top of her panties and pull them down a little. Now that they are out of my way, I dive in there, spreading that white ball of pleasure all over her.

“Oh, God,” she starts say with deep breaths.

I can finally stick my tongue all the way in there, shoving that white ball of pleasure deep inside her.

“SSSHHHIIITTTT….” She yells as she draws me in even more with her hose on the back of my head.

My face is being coated with her juices.

And I am swallowing as much as I can.

She is radiating pure pleasure, and I am absorbing that as much as I can.

After a few moments, she releases my head but puts her hands on it. I have my hands on the back of both of her legs and I can feel them quivering, as if she can’t stand up for long.

I just sit there, leaning into her, slowly licking the outside of her pussy.

That white ball of pleasure is gone.

But, FUCK, that white ball of pleasure!

Holy shit!

“Stand up, Jim,” Charlotte asks, gently.

I do.

“You’re turn,” she says, with a mischievous smile, as she slowly sinks to her knees. It’s at this point that I realize that I’m still dressed in my camouflage uniform. Charlotte slowly unbuttons my cammie trousers and they fall to the floor.

I’m wearing red boxer briefs and that bulge!

Fuck.

I swear it would rival Matt’s!

My cock is fat from all those mother fucking dick throbs. When my cock is limp, it hangs straight down in front of my balls. But my cock grew and it grew down in a C shape. The head of my cock is actually below my balls leaking and splurting the bottom of them.

Charlotte leans forward and with the top of her tongue, licks my balls and head.

<SPLURT>

FUCK!

My right leg is starting to piston up and down.

Charlotte is doing long licks up my shaft.

<DICK THROB>

Then down my shaft.

<D
<I
<C
<K

<T
<H
<R
<O
<B>

“FFFFFFUUUUCccckkkkkkkkk,” I moan as it feels as if my entire shaft is throbbing in pleasure.

Charlotte leans back and reaches to her left. She grabs her knife holster and takes out her knife. The knife is in her left hand. Mischievousness and naughtiness start to radiate from her.

“Put your hands on my head, Jim,” she says.

I have zero idea what’s going on <DICK THROB>.

MOTHER FUCKER!!!!!!

<SPLURTTTTT>

Jesus fucking CHRIST!!!!

That almost sent me to my knees!

“Put you hands on my head, Jim,” she repeats. I quickly do so. That feeling of mischievousness and naughtiness intensifies. But I trust my wife. She leans back in and starts to suck on my balls through my underwear.

Jesus!

Then, I feel the flat of her blade slide between me and my briefs, while she still sucks on my balls. I feel the hilt hit the bottom of my briefs and in a quick flip of her wrist, she slices my briefs off with her left hand and her right hand yanks them away.

Her mouth is now on my balls, sucking ferociously <DICK THROB>.

And my newly freed cock is slams into my cammie top.

<FWUMP>

FUCK!!

I feel leakage bubbling out of my head and run down my shaft.

And Char is still sucking on my balls.

<rumble>

Oh, Fuck!

<Rumble>

Oh, fuck, no!

It’s happening again.

I’m going to blow like Mt Vesuvius!

<RUMBLE>

That churning at the base of my cock.

Holy fuck!

I close my eyes.

Willing my legs to stay strong.

Forcing myself to not pass out from this.

Dimly, I hear a thunk from something hitting the floor.

<RUMBLE>

<DICK THROB>

SHIT

<RUMBLE>

<DICK THROB>

FUCKING A!!

My hips start gyrating as, again, that white wall of pleasure starts to churn and bubble at the base of my cock.

My cock is pointing to my chin and leaking precum like a broken hose.

And then, I feel Char do something.

I open my eyes and look down.

She took one of her pantyhose legs and wrapped it under my balls and up and around the base of my cock and tied it off.

I feel that rumbling hit the hose and bounce off.

And it hits it again!

And bounces off!

And it stays there.

Hitting it

Bouncing off

Hitting it

Bouncing off

And it feels ssssssooooo gooood,

Like something has it in check but not letting go.

And my cock…

Jesus

My COCK

Looks meaner

<RUMBLE>

Looks thicker

<RUMBLE>

Looks so fucking ribbed.

<RUMBLE>

All the veins are popping like it was a body building competition.

<RUMBLE>
<BOUNCE>

And all that pleasure is locked in.

<RUMBLE>
<BOUNCE>

SHIT!

Not going anywhere.

SHIT!
SHIT!
FFFUUUCCCKKKK

Char lifts my trousers back up and fastens the top button.

I literally look like a porn cover.

Full camouflage uniform.

Massive hard on sticking out of it.

In this issue of Soldiers Weekly, Captain Clinton shows off his rifle!

Fuckkkkkkk

Char gets up off her knees.

“Lay down on the bed, Jim,” she says.

And I do.

I so FUCKING do!

Head at the headboard.

Feet close to the footboard

And my massive nine inch cock, flat against my uniform top.

Leaking like a mother fucker.

Looking mean.

<DICK THROB>

Looking thick.

<DICK THROB>

Veins popping out.

<DICK THROB>

Char slides up my body to just below my cock and balls.

With her right hand, she lifts my cock up.

<DICK THROB>

<FLEX>

SSSSSHhhhhiiiittttt

My big, fucking cock pointing to the ceiling.

She raises herself up and places my head at her lips.

And starts to sink onto it.

<RUMBLE>

<BOUNCE>

And I feel her

Slowly, pistoning up and down.

<RUMBLE>
<BOUNCE>

FUCK!

Getting lower and lower on my cock.

The lower she gets on my cock

The more that rumbling intensifies.

That white wall of pleasure is stuck behind the hose.

Trying to find any weakness, any way to escape and shoot up my cock and out.

And failing.

<RUMBLE>

<BOUNCE>

FUCKKKK

Finally, like a bell going off in my head, I feel Char bottom out on me.

She is breathing in and her chest expands.

She gyrates her hips on my pelvis.

I swear to god, I feel my cock expand in her pussy.

I feel each of those ribs press into her tight walls.

And I feel her squeeze those walls and they tighten around my shaft.

And I fucking FFFFLLLLEEEEXXXX my cock against it.

Then I feel Char lift up and little

And slam back down.

<DICK THROB>

<RUMBLE>

<BOUNCE>

FUCK!

Again, she does that

<DICK THROB>
<RUMBLE>
<RUMBLE>
<BOUNCE>

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUCK

If I was fucking Char, I would consider this long fucking her.

But she’s long fucking me.

And her hose is preventing me from cumming!

I can feel my cock get thicker and thicker as more blood is trapped in it.

It’s like being on the verge of the best orgasm

EVER

And having a case of blue balls!

SHIT

FUCK

SHIT

FUCK

And it feels so damn good and painful at the same time!

She starts bouncing faster and faster

<DICK THRUMBLE>

<DICK THRUMBLE>

<DICK THRUMBLE>

Fuck they’re combining!

My vision starts to blur.

My arms are forced straight out from my body.

They are clawing at the comforter, pulling it toward me.

I feel Char reach down and grab the hose.

She must have had some type of slip knot because she yanks the hose free.

And all the pleasure is suddenly released!

Like a tornado of fire/pleasure, that white wall blasts free.

Cork screwing its way up my cock and deep into Char’s pussy.

My hands grab her waist, pull her deeper onto my cock as my hips buck up.

I’m only on my shoulder blades and the back of my heels.

I can’t hear anything because of the roar of pleasure that echoes in my ears.

Then, like a rocket that’s lost it’s fuel, my body collapses back onto the bed.

Char collapsing onto me as my arms encircle her to make sure she is safe and slowly roll onto my left side.

I’m breathing deeply into her face.

She’s wrapped her arms around me.

My cock, Jesus, my cock is still hard inside her pulsing in time with my heartbeat.

I see flashes of white dance between my body and Chars.

My hips slowly pushing in and out of Char’s pussy.

I can feel how soaked my trousers are.

Char is breathing deeply next to me. I kiss her on her forehead and slowly we unwrap ourselves from each other.

Breaking apart.

Laying on our backs

Breathing deeply.

My cock is still fucking hard.

And drooling pre like a dying spigot.

And, with the exception of our heavy breathing, the room is silent.

I take deep, soothing breaths, to calm my racing heart.

I don’t know how long I do that for, but, eventually, my heartbeat gets back to normal.

My vision clears up.

I roll onto my left side as Char rolls onto her left and we spoon together.

And with my wife half naked beside me, we fall asleep.

The entire time I was reading this, I was thinking why Jim seemed like he couldn't be bothered with Matt's disappearance considering how he keeps thinking about him. Am I the only one that thinks it's weird how neither Paul or Jim have any idea where Matt could be when their job focuses around PsyOps?

When I read a story, if it has the ring of truth to it, even if it is fiction it kicks it up a notch. Paul & Jim on a military base sitting in a car kissing as people walk by and parked pretty close to the bases exit isn't something that I could ever see happening in real life.

For some reason (maybe I was hoping) that when Jim walked in the door, Char would be sitting next to and comforting Matt which may or may not have led to some fun of a sexual nature.