DAY TWO
Henderson slept through the night after he had warmed up, but in the morning he threw himself into whatever activity was available, such as the complexities of positioning twenty-two human checkers in the grid they had traced into the dirt floor of the cage.
After lunch, the same cooked grain in two large bowls that they’d had for breakfast and for supper the night before, Henderson thought some more about what was likely to happen that afternoon. Would he be able to pull off the same psycho-sexual parlor trick he had accomplished yesterday? Probably yes. He’d tapped a powerful part of himself.
At mid-afternoon two soldiers came to the cage and indicated that Geminiani, Schultz and Barbo should head for the bench near the head of the amphitheater. Then they gestured for Henderson to follow them to the center, where he’d stood the day before. The translator was absent. The officer came up close and stared appraisingly at Henderson for a moment. Then he took Henderson’s hand and placed it palm forward against his own sizeable erection pressing against his khakis, and rubbed it slowly up and down. He had a thin see-what-I-can-make-you-do smile. Henderson’s penis swelled. His breath became more rapid and shallow and anything, do anything, filled his mind as he returned the officer’s gaze. His whole body seemed to melt into his now fully engorged genitals.
Then two of the soldiers pushed on his shoulders until he kneeled and then one put his cheek on his own crossed forearms and pointed to the ground in front of Henderson. Henderson positioned himself as indicated, with his ass on display. He concentrated on the superior officer who was standing about five feet away. His penis throbbed. He relaxed his shoulders and let his chest press into the ground and waited for whatever was to happen.
“Hey, Loot,” came a voice behind him. It was Miller. What did they want with Miller? “Loot, they… they… I can’t do it Loot! What am I going to do?”
Ah! “OK, Miller, just think about those guys over there.”
“It’s Gemi, Loot. They’ve already cut him!”
“OK. Then we’ve got to pull this off. Just pull down your pants and masturbate yourself a hard-on. You can do it. Everyone can do it!”
Miller let out a long moan of distress. A few anxious moments later he said, “OK. I got it.”
“Now stick it in me!” He felt Miller kneel behind him and put his hands on his waist, but nothing at his anus. He felt Miller’s erection lie between his buttocks and then he felt it wither.
“Loot! It’s gone! It’s just gone!”
“OK. We’ll fake it. Keep your legs together and lean down on my back and just fake it. For Gemi!”
He could feel Miller push into him a half dozen or so times, breathing as if he were climaxing. When he stopped Henderson immediately said, “Don’t get up! We can’t let them see a totally limp dick so soon. Stay there and jerk me off.” The reason he gave Miller was true, but he also needed help keeping his own erection. It was too much of a balancing act to take charge of Miller and abase himself before the enemy officer at the same time. After a few awkward strokes, accompanied by Miller’s moans of distress, Henderson achieved the lamest orgasm of his life, but achieve it he did. As he sank onto his heels the officer kicked him in the ribs. Not hard, but contemptuously and said something scornful. But he did signal to let the three hostages return to the cage.
Miller pulled up his clothing and gave Henderson a hand up. The two walked back to the cage in a somewhat awkward silence. Henderson wished he could say something that would help Miller over this psychological hump, but “Good job, soldier” didn’t seem the thing at the moment.
When they were once again locked in the cage Henderson stood next to Miller and put his hand on his shoulder. “Today, guys, you saw a show. Most of what Miller and I did was fakery. You need to give us a good round of applause.” They dutifully applauded and added hoots and hollers. “And look me and Miller in the eye. We’re all human!”
A ragged response. “We’re all human!!” Not everyone, but it would do.
Many times over the rest of the afternoon and evening Henderson thought about how disappointing his experience had been, how diluted. A little in contradiction to his advice to his men, it was disquieting to realize how thoroughly these cravings had permeated his consciousness.
But being naked among his men didn’t address these cravings at all. He was royally tired of being naked. He really wanted to get dressed.
That night Henderson’s two human blankets didn’t have to warm his scalp as they covered him before he got chills.
DAY THREE
On the third day, as soon as three men were chosen as hostages, Henderson felt a frisson of anticipation wash over him. He went immediately to the front of the cage, so the men couldn’t see his swelling sex. He gripped the rusting bars and pressed himself against a cross bar until the guards gestured for him to come out. As he walked to the center of the amphitheater, even as his limbs felt weak from dread, he had to admit that there was pleasure in the anticipation of being displayed and debased. As he watched the officer and his two assistants approach his penis stiffened even more. He could feel his blood pulsing in it. When it became fully erect he offered it to the commander in unspoken communication. The commander, in turn, drew his forefinger slowly and knowingly from the base to the tip. The muscles in Henderson’s thighs contracted visibly.