Deflowering Zechs Merquis Pt. 3tehbartenderAugust 19 2008, 07:48:34 UTC
Inside, the room was furnished by another heavy oak desk with a tall straight-backed chair behind it, a simple cot, and a cherry armoire. The walls were concrete, as was the floor. There were six rings in the wall, two on each wall without a door, arranged at about shoulder height. As Zechs took it all in, Treize strode over to the armoire. He threw open the double doors, motioning the blond closer. Two steps inside. Clank. Zechs whirled at the sound, pounding his fist against the now-sealed chrome door. No sign of a seam, no handle. No way out. “Zechs. Come here.” His tone was stern, but less angry than it had been upstairs. Without thinking, the younger man felt himself putting one foot in front of the other, until he was standing before Treize, stiff and uneasy. “Since you insist on living in disdain of our uniform, I have another uniform for you.” In his hands, dangling from a hanger, the Lieutenant held a blue-and-green uniform, reminiscent of a Japanese schoolgirl’s uniform from historical cartoons. Complete with long stockings, lacy panties and a short little skirt. Something about the entire situation completely overwhelmed Zechs. He started laughing. Doubled over, choking on air, face reddening, tears in the corners of his eyes, laughing. He laughed hard and long, until the force of Treize’s hand tangled in his platinum locks jerked his head up to interrupt. Despite the fact that he was slightly taller than Treize, he found himself struggling to extract his hair from the Lieutenant’s grasp. Mentally, he sobered up. This position in the military was his last chance for redemption. He had exhausted every other resource. His chance to save the world, save himself. He needed this. If he was discharged now, he’d be branded as an outcast, and the only thing left to him then would be the colonies. He could not afford to lose this game. Steel blue met midnight, in a powerful clash that sent a shiver down Zech’s spine-part fear, part excitement. He was inexperienced, and the older man had seen warfare of every kind. And here he was, expected to submit to his commanding officer. The thought sent another tiny thrill down his spine. Another shake from Treize’s hold on the back of his head rattled his brains out of daydreaming. He shrugged himself away. “Sir. I’ll put it on. On two conditions.” “I won’t promise anything… but I will listen to your conditions.” Zechs coughed softly, pretending to clear his throat. Gruffly, “One, no pictures or videotape. I have a reputation to maintain.” Treize chuckled, the first genuine sign of humor the younger man had heard from him. “And the other?” The boy blushed, the soft pink spreading across his cheeks and warming his ears. “…turn around while I change.”
Deflowering Zechs Merquis Pt. 4tehbartenderAugust 19 2008, 07:50:05 UTC
The soldier laughed outright at that, but he turned around to placate the cadet’s plea. In truth, Zechs had a hard time watching himself change, the very idea was so humiliating. He distanced himself, as though he were watching from outside while some other long-haired blond unbuttoned his coat meticulously, laying it on the cot. The coat was followed by the now-pressed white dress shirt, then each individual boot. Painstakingly, each sock slowly joined the pile. His slacks followed. Finally, his boxers. Taking off this last piece of cloth that was his, he was handing himself over into the enemy’s hands, begging to be owned. It grated on him. He determined not to give himself over completely, no matter the cost. Humiliated, may be. But never broken. The uniform was the right size. It was becoming more apparent that this whole setup had been carefully planned. Embarrassingly, the lacy panties just barely covered his member, and they were soft and smooth in a way that teased him just so. That blasted skirt wasn’t quite long enough to hide that he was becoming slightly aroused, either. “Red brings out the color of your eyes, you know. Like roses. You should blush for me more often.” “I…beg pardon, sir?” The best the spluttering boy could do is feign ignorance, because Treize was on him the moment he had the last stocking pulled on. He was all business and barking orders, and even just a few weeks of training had Zechs jumping to obey before he could stop himself. “In the center of the room. Now! I expect you to do fifty one-armed pushups with each arm. You have two minutes. Go!” He clicked a button on his stop watch, and then stepped back while a panicked cadet dropped to the ground to grind out his pushups. Zechs could feel his face reddening even more, and he imagined that the view of his skirt-his skirt? No, the skirt-bobbing with the exertion was exciting for the bastard who stared at him hungrily while he worked. He counted off to distract himself while the timer beeped merrily away. “Forty-five, forty-six…” He jumped up and reversed positions to do the other arm, but the time he had taken to obey orders cost him a few seconds, and the timer beeped before he had reached his second set of fifty. “…time. You should have been able to execute my commands flawlessly, boy. You have failed. Do you know what that means?” Zechs scrambled to attention, struggling to look professional and competent in little girls’ clothing. “Sir! I am to be disciplined, sir?” Three steps across the room, and that perfectly pristine white glove was contacting his face, hard enough to give him whiplash. “Speak only when spoken to. The measure of a man is his ability to be strong in the face of adversity. But you are not a man. You are a boy. My boy.” “Sir. Your boy.” SLAP. This time, the other cheek stung. “I said, speak only when spoken to. Perfect soldiers always follow their orders exactly. Are we clear?” “SIR YES SIR!” “Good. Now. Go and put your palms on the cot and brace yourself. I am going to punish you for missing your assignment.” Without a word, Zechs obeyed, head hanging in shame. He kept his eyes averted, the sting of rebuke still on his cheeks. He pressed his weight down into the cot’s flimsy structure, leaning on his palms and focusing his attention on anything but the armoire. Treize fished around in the armoire again, returning with cuffs and a riding crop.
Deflowering Zechs Merquis Pt. 5tehbartenderAugust 19 2008, 07:51:35 UTC
“I will use the cuffs if you do not obey me. Put your ass in the air.” Zechs jumped, startled, at Treize’s hand kneading his ass. The older man caressed each cheek, stroking and squeezing until the heat rising in him made the lacy panties feel very tight around his member. The blond was just starting to relax, when the crop came down hard across his ass. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. Each stroke stung more. Three strokes, and then the hand was caressing him again, warm and inviting, comforting. As soon as his muscles relaxed from the tension, THWACK, THWACK, THWACK. He could feel the welts rising from his skin. Twice more the Lieutenant repeated this torture, until Zechs felt like he could barely hold his own weight up anymore. Just as he was about to collapse, everything stopped, both the caresses and the beatings. He lifted his head, trying to anticipate his tormentor’s next move. In the next moment his face was shoved into the cot, the panties were shoved aside, suffocating his cock, and something cold and wet was invading his asshole. “My boy. You’ll do exactly what Daddy tells you, won’t you? Because Daddy knows what’s best for you… so open up for me. I want to fuck your tight little ass tonight… and you’re going to enjoy it, aren’t you, my little boy?” His voice was deep, velvety smooth. Zechs moaned out loud, overcome by the role he was being forced into, and the responsive throbbing of his cock. SLAP. Treize’s hand came down heavy on his already-sore ass. “Speak when spoken to, boy. I asked you a question. Do you like wearing girls’ clothes, my sweet little slut?” He moaned again, his brain melting into a need for touch, for Treize’s hands on his body, his balls, his cock. Suddenly the lacy panties were far too restraining. He felt as though he were bursting from the seams. “Yes, I love dressing up for you…” A second finger joined the first, stretching his ass in rhythmic circles, sometimes shallow, sometimes thrusting deeply and pressing at a spot deep inside him that made him desperately thrash his hips in search of pressure, friction, anything to ease the urgency building up inside him. SLAP! “You may not come until I give you permission, do you understand me boy? Hold it back. If you come, I will punish you so badly that you will beg me for death. Do you understand?” His voice was harsh, cold. Another shiver ran down Zech’s spine as he acknowledged his orders with a slow, pained nod. His hardness was painful now, and he could feel heat rising from himself, building up in his balls, threatening to wash over him in a white haze. He wanted desperately to touch himself, to stroke his dick and release some of the tension building up inside him. But all of his weight was supported on his hands, and he had been ordered not to orgasm. A third finger joined the two, twisting and reaching until Zechs was panting with the effort of containing himself, warm wetness stretching him forever, until he felt as though the Lieutenant was going to force his entire hand inside of him. Then the older man touched that spot again, and the cadet was lightheaded, thrusting his hips against the edge of the bed, rocking himself to get any friction against his aching cock, and Treize’s fingers were gone from him, leaving behind a cold void. The soldier’s hands grabbed his hips, roughly. Searing pain ripped through his body, Treize’s huge member embedded in his ass to the hilt, and tears were rolling down Zech’s cheeks, but he thrust himself back against the older man, clenching his ass around him, whispering, chanting his name. “God, daddy, fuck me…Treize…fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…harder, please, I’ve been bad, please fuck me…” The Lieutenant grunted, punctuating each thrust with a soft moan that spurred Zechs on to thrust faster, meeting each of the older man’s thrusts, squeezing down on him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the blond was screaming at himself, and wondering where he’d come up with the things he was saying. And then everything was dark and he solely focused on milking every drop from Treize’s cock.
Deflowering Zechs Merquis Pt. 6!tehbartenderAugust 19 2008, 07:53:00 UTC
Treize came hard, digging his fingers into Zech’s hips, pounding so deeply inside that Zechs felt he would split apart. His cum filled the boy, spilling out and down his legs, hot and sticky and wet and hot. And then he was pulling out and strolling over to the big high-backed chair. Zechs was still hard, and his hardness was trapped under his body in an excruciatingly painful way as he lay panting on the cot. “Boy! Come here and clean me up!” The dark haired man sat upright in all his glory, still in his shiny black boots, but with those military slacks pooled at his ankles, his dick still half-hard from the exertion of fucking Zechs, cum dripping from the tip. That smug look on his face, of command and power. It stole the blond’s breath away, and all he could do is stumble to obey. He crossed the room in a half-dozen steps, ripping off the lacy panties to free himself as he did so. He dropped to his knees in front of the chair, eager to taste the fruits of his labor. “Go slowly. I want you to lick every last drop off of my cock, like ice cream. Start with my balls. Lick them soft and slow. Flatten your tongue, really taste it. Good boy…” He spoke huskily, using a rough hand on the back of Zech’s head to guide him toward his goal. The blond took to his task eagerly, thinking that surely he would be allowed to come, if he sucked his daddy off… Stroking the older man’s dick near the tip to steady himself, he traced Treize’s balls with his tongue, licking in slow, lazy circles, suckling at each ball in turn, reveling in the gasps and moans coming from above him. His tongue traveled slowly, licking every drop of cum. Soft lips encircled his head, sucking gently at first, flicking his tongue across the tip to catch every leaking drip. Treize moaned louder, thrusting his hips upward into Zech’s mouth. “Boy, suck it hard….swallow it all. I want you to drink every drop…” The blond boy needed no further prodding. He gripped Treize’s hips firmly, his head bobbing up and down with the motion as he swallowed as much as he could of the older man’s cock. Sucking, swallowing, stroking with his tongue as he sucked, his hands cupping Treize’s balls, rolling, teasing, fondling, caressing, squeezing. The soldier’s hips bucked hard, and hot cum was pouring down Zech’s throat, salty and thick. Greedily he sucked, licking every drop off of Treize’s slowly softening cock. Zechs rocked back on his heels, his forgotten member throbbing so hard now that he felt as though he would never recover. Every inch of his body was at attention-he felt sure that the slightest touch would shatter him. Treize stood up, righting himself and pulling his pants back up. As he zipped them, he smiled fondly at the blond. “You did well, boy. Do you want your reward?” Without waiting for a response, he shoved the cadet roughly down onto the floor, wrapping his hand around his cock, jerking hard and fast, excruciatingly hard. Zechs panted, his body tense, his back arching into Treize’s touch. “Please…god, I can’t hold it in…please…” The soldier smiled cruelly, his fist wrapped around the boy’s dick pumping fiercely. Just when the blond felt he would lose all control, the dark haired man leaned down to whisper harshly in his ear, “You may come…come, now, boy!” “Ggggggodddd…..TREIIIIIIIZZZZZEEEE…..!” And then he was bucking and coming and there was that white haze he’d been fighting this whole time. When he woke up, he was in his own bed, with no evidence that the afternoon had been real, except for the welts on his ass. Treize watched from a distance, looking through the window from his vantage point across the field in Hall C. “Sleep well, my Soldier.”
“Zechs. Come here.” His tone was stern, but less angry than it had been upstairs. Without thinking, the younger man felt himself putting one foot in front of the other, until he was standing before Treize, stiff and uneasy. “Since you insist on living in disdain of our uniform, I have another uniform for you.” In his hands, dangling from a hanger, the Lieutenant held a blue-and-green uniform, reminiscent of a Japanese schoolgirl’s uniform from historical cartoons. Complete with long stockings, lacy panties and a short little skirt.
Something about the entire situation completely overwhelmed Zechs. He started laughing. Doubled over, choking on air, face reddening, tears in the corners of his eyes, laughing. He laughed hard and long, until the force of Treize’s hand tangled in his platinum locks jerked his head up to interrupt. Despite the fact that he was slightly taller than Treize, he found himself struggling to extract his hair from the Lieutenant’s grasp.
Mentally, he sobered up. This position in the military was his last chance for redemption. He had exhausted every other resource. His chance to save the world, save himself. He needed this. If he was discharged now, he’d be branded as an outcast, and the only thing left to him then would be the colonies. He could not afford to lose this game. Steel blue met midnight, in a powerful clash that sent a shiver down Zech’s spine-part fear, part excitement. He was inexperienced, and the older man had seen warfare of every kind. And here he was, expected to submit to his commanding officer. The thought sent another tiny thrill down his spine. Another shake from Treize’s hold on the back of his head rattled his brains out of daydreaming. He shrugged himself away.
“Sir. I’ll put it on. On two conditions.”
“I won’t promise anything… but I will listen to your conditions.”
Zechs coughed softly, pretending to clear his throat. Gruffly, “One, no pictures or videotape. I have a reputation to maintain.”
Treize chuckled, the first genuine sign of humor the younger man had heard from him. “And the other?”
The boy blushed, the soft pink spreading across his cheeks and warming his ears.
“…turn around while I change.”
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The uniform was the right size. It was becoming more apparent that this whole setup had been carefully planned. Embarrassingly, the lacy panties just barely covered his member, and they were soft and smooth in a way that teased him just so. That blasted skirt wasn’t quite long enough to hide that he was becoming slightly aroused, either.
“Red brings out the color of your eyes, you know. Like roses. You should blush for me more often.”
“I…beg pardon, sir?” The best the spluttering boy could do is feign ignorance, because Treize was on him the moment he had the last stocking pulled on. He was all business and barking orders, and even just a few weeks of training had Zechs jumping to obey before he could stop himself.
“In the center of the room. Now! I expect you to do fifty one-armed pushups with each arm. You have two minutes. Go!” He clicked a button on his stop watch, and then stepped back while a panicked cadet dropped to the ground to grind out his pushups. Zechs could feel his face reddening even more, and he imagined that the view of his skirt-his skirt? No, the skirt-bobbing with the exertion was exciting for the bastard who stared at him hungrily while he worked. He counted off to distract himself while the timer beeped merrily away. “Forty-five, forty-six…” He jumped up and reversed positions to do the other arm, but the time he had taken to obey orders cost him a few seconds, and the timer beeped before he had reached his second set of fifty.
“…time. You should have been able to execute my commands flawlessly, boy. You have failed. Do you know what that means?”
Zechs scrambled to attention, struggling to look professional and competent in little girls’ clothing. “Sir! I am to be disciplined, sir?”
Three steps across the room, and that perfectly pristine white glove was contacting his face, hard enough to give him whiplash.
“Speak only when spoken to. The measure of a man is his ability to be strong in the face of adversity. But you are not a man. You are a boy. My boy.”
“Sir. Your boy.”
SLAP. This time, the other cheek stung.
“I said, speak only when spoken to. Perfect soldiers always follow their orders exactly. Are we clear?”
“SIR YES SIR!”
“Good. Now. Go and put your palms on the cot and brace yourself. I am going to punish you for missing your assignment.”
Without a word, Zechs obeyed, head hanging in shame. He kept his eyes averted, the sting of rebuke still on his cheeks. He pressed his weight down into the cot’s flimsy structure, leaning on his palms and focusing his attention on anything but the armoire. Treize fished around in the armoire again, returning with cuffs and a riding crop.
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Zechs jumped, startled, at Treize’s hand kneading his ass. The older man caressed each cheek, stroking and squeezing until the heat rising in him made the lacy panties feel very tight around his member. The blond was just starting to relax, when the crop came down hard across his ass. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. Each stroke stung more. Three strokes, and then the hand was caressing him again, warm and inviting, comforting. As soon as his muscles relaxed from the tension, THWACK, THWACK, THWACK. He could feel the welts rising from his skin. Twice more the Lieutenant repeated this torture, until Zechs felt like he could barely hold his own weight up anymore.
Just as he was about to collapse, everything stopped, both the caresses and the beatings. He lifted his head, trying to anticipate his tormentor’s next move. In the next moment his face was shoved into the cot, the panties were shoved aside, suffocating his cock, and something cold and wet was invading his asshole.
“My boy. You’ll do exactly what Daddy tells you, won’t you? Because Daddy knows what’s best for you… so open up for me. I want to fuck your tight little ass tonight… and you’re going to enjoy it, aren’t you, my little boy?” His voice was deep, velvety smooth. Zechs moaned out loud, overcome by the role he was being forced into, and the responsive throbbing of his cock.
SLAP. Treize’s hand came down heavy on his already-sore ass. “Speak when spoken to, boy. I asked you a question. Do you like wearing girls’ clothes, my sweet little slut?” He moaned again, his brain melting into a need for touch, for Treize’s hands on his body, his balls, his cock. Suddenly the lacy panties were far too restraining. He felt as though he were bursting from the seams. “Yes, I love dressing up for you…” A second finger joined the first, stretching his ass in rhythmic circles, sometimes shallow, sometimes thrusting deeply and pressing at a spot deep inside him that made him desperately thrash his hips in search of pressure, friction, anything to ease the urgency building up inside him.
SLAP! “You may not come until I give you permission, do you understand me boy? Hold it back. If you come, I will punish you so badly that you will beg me for death. Do you understand?” His voice was harsh, cold. Another shiver ran down Zech’s spine as he acknowledged his orders with a slow, pained nod. His hardness was painful now, and he could feel heat rising from himself, building up in his balls, threatening to wash over him in a white haze. He wanted desperately to touch himself, to stroke his dick and release some of the tension building up inside him. But all of his weight was supported on his hands, and he had been ordered not to orgasm.
A third finger joined the two, twisting and reaching until Zechs was panting with the effort of containing himself, warm wetness stretching him forever, until he felt as though the Lieutenant was going to force his entire hand inside of him. Then the older man touched that spot again, and the cadet was lightheaded, thrusting his hips against the edge of the bed, rocking himself to get any friction against his aching cock, and Treize’s fingers were gone from him, leaving behind a cold void. The soldier’s hands grabbed his hips, roughly. Searing pain ripped through his body, Treize’s huge member embedded in his ass to the hilt, and tears were rolling down Zech’s cheeks, but he thrust himself back against the older man, clenching his ass around him, whispering, chanting his name. “God, daddy, fuck me…Treize…fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…harder, please, I’ve been bad, please fuck me…” The Lieutenant grunted, punctuating each thrust with a soft moan that spurred Zechs on to thrust faster, meeting each of the older man’s thrusts, squeezing down on him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the blond was screaming at himself, and wondering where he’d come up with the things he was saying. And then everything was dark and he solely focused on milking every drop from Treize’s cock.
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“Boy! Come here and clean me up!”
The dark haired man sat upright in all his glory, still in his shiny black boots, but with those military slacks pooled at his ankles, his dick still half-hard from the exertion of fucking Zechs, cum dripping from the tip. That smug look on his face, of command and power. It stole the blond’s breath away, and all he could do is stumble to obey. He crossed the room in a half-dozen steps, ripping off the lacy panties to free himself as he did so. He dropped to his knees in front of the chair, eager to taste the fruits of his labor.
“Go slowly. I want you to lick every last drop off of my cock, like ice cream. Start with my balls. Lick them soft and slow. Flatten your tongue, really taste it. Good boy…” He spoke huskily, using a rough hand on the back of Zech’s head to guide him toward his goal. The blond took to his task eagerly, thinking that surely he would be allowed to come, if he sucked his daddy off… Stroking the older man’s dick near the tip to steady himself, he traced Treize’s balls with his tongue, licking in slow, lazy circles, suckling at each ball in turn, reveling in the gasps and moans coming from above him. His tongue traveled slowly, licking every drop of cum. Soft lips encircled his head, sucking gently at first, flicking his tongue across the tip to catch every leaking drip.
Treize moaned louder, thrusting his hips upward into Zech’s mouth. “Boy, suck it hard….swallow it all. I want you to drink every drop…” The blond boy needed no further prodding. He gripped Treize’s hips firmly, his head bobbing up and down with the motion as he swallowed as much as he could of the older man’s cock. Sucking, swallowing, stroking with his tongue as he sucked, his hands cupping Treize’s balls, rolling, teasing, fondling, caressing, squeezing. The soldier’s hips bucked hard, and hot cum was pouring down Zech’s throat, salty and thick. Greedily he sucked, licking every drop off of Treize’s slowly softening cock.
Zechs rocked back on his heels, his forgotten member throbbing so hard now that he felt as though he would never recover. Every inch of his body was at attention-he felt sure that the slightest touch would shatter him. Treize stood up, righting himself and pulling his pants back up. As he zipped them, he smiled fondly at the blond. “You did well, boy. Do you want your reward?”
Without waiting for a response, he shoved the cadet roughly down onto the floor, wrapping his hand around his cock, jerking hard and fast, excruciatingly hard. Zechs panted, his body tense, his back arching into Treize’s touch. “Please…god, I can’t hold it in…please…” The soldier smiled cruelly, his fist wrapped around the boy’s dick pumping fiercely. Just when the blond felt he would lose all control, the dark haired man leaned down to whisper harshly in his ear, “You may come…come, now, boy!”
“Ggggggodddd…..TREIIIIIIIZZZZZEEEE…..!” And then he was bucking and coming and there was that white haze he’d been fighting this whole time.
When he woke up, he was in his own bed, with no evidence that the afternoon had been real, except for the welts on his ass. Treize watched from a distance, looking through the window from his vantage point across the field in Hall C.
“Sleep well, my Soldier.”
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