One of my captors came to the head end of the table I was strapped to. I couldn’t see his face, but I did get an up close and personal look at his gorgeous and engorged cock framed by the skin tight chaps he was wearing. He had a beautiful cut cock that looked to be about 6" long and nice and fat. I could see the blood pulsing in the fine lines of the veins along the top of his shaft. For the first time he said something that sounded like, "You want it, don’t you faggot!" I could do little more than mumble an undecipherable sound that I was trying to make sound like, "Yes, Sir!" He pulled my head up and unbuckled the gag and removed it. Before I could make a sound, while I was trying to move my sore jaw muscles, he rammed his cock into my mouth. I immediately choked on it, and he slapped me and said, "Take it all asshole." He just kept ramming his cock in and out of my mouth, and it became a sort of rhythmic rape, although I was thoroughly enjoying the sense of helplessness and being used in that way. I wasn’t so much blowing him as he was fucking my face. I had never experienced this before and it was a shock at first but soon became first bearable and then exquisitely pleasurable. We got into a kind of mutual rhythm that carried me away mentally to a Nirvana I had never experienced before. All my concentration was on the face fucking, and I wasn’t paying a hell of lot of attention to what was going on at the other end of the table. That soon changed in a very painful way.

I’m not sure where the next part of my odyssey should begin. At the same time that I was becoming used to - really enjoying would be a better description of my feelings - the forced sex, there was lurking in the back of my mind the idea that I had crossed a line somewhere, and that I was well and truly damned for all time. Before this odyssey, all of my gay encounters had been of the pure vanilla kind, lots of oral and anal play, both as top and demanding bottom. At the same time, I was a straight arrow kind of 4-0 Marine. Being gay has never been an overriding concern, except to be discreet. In the days before ’Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’, any hint of being gay spelled the end of a career, even though there was a ’stop loss’ order in effect at that time. You could do almost anything short of a major crime and not be discharged from the Corps, but the one unforgivable crime was to love another man. My best friend, with whom I joined the Corps on my 17th birthday, was my first lover. I guess we were both naive, thinking that it wouldn’t make any difference in our lives.

We went through Boot Camp, ITR, Advanced Sniper School, Recon Training, and everything else the Corps could throw at us, and even as I served nearly three consecutive tours in Vietnam, we always found a way to be together during my R & R periods, for some special time. We were closer than brothers and were a perfect fit for each other. In another era we would have been able to live openly and would have served in the Sacred Band of Thebes as fearsome fighters and lovers, each encouraging the other on, each afraid of disappointing the other by a shortcoming. And the relationship worked well for both of us.

Billy was always a bit more adventurous than I was, perhaps because he was older by two years and had had far more experiences than I had before we realized that we were meant to be together. When I think back on my early years, it was always Billy who wanted to make sure that the captured Indian [usually me] was tied tightly and couldn’t escape. It was always Billy who found my hiding places and would wrestle me to the ground instead of running away after ’tagging’ me. And it was always Billy who was there to soothe my bumps and bruises, and who liked to play just a little rougher than necessary when we had our second and many subsequent experiences together, slapping my bare butt while fucking me, and pulling my head forward onto his cock so that I would do it faster and deeper. Yet, I really didn’t know he had a complete bondage side to him, and that he was getting deeper and deeper into it.

I guess it was after my return from Vietnam, and during my prolonged stay at a Naval Hospital in California, while Billy was at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, that he ventured farther and deeper down the rabbit whole of bondage. We were separated for nearly two years before I was reassigned to Camp Lejeune, and even there we were in different units, so our times together became more limited than they used to be. I missed him, as both my friend and lover, and I went out of my way to find time and places to be with him. I accidentally discovered his love of leather and bondage when I went over to his off base apartment early on a Saturday morning to see if he wanted to do something that day. As I drove up, he was just returning from his Friday night out on the town. To my astonishment, he was dressed in full leathers, complete with knee high boots, the tightest fitting leather jeans I had ever seen, and a leather shirt that was fairly bursting at the seams as well. He saw me get out of my car, and it was like walking in on your son jerking off. His face turned red, and if there had been a hole nearby, I’m sure he would have gladly crawled into it. It wasn’t until I got closer to him and he saw that I had a raging hard on that was threatening to burst out of my levis, my grabbing his cock through his jeans, and forcing his mouth open for a prolonged bout of tongue wrestling, that he relaxed. He gave me a bear hug that threatened to crush my ribs, which seemed to be equal parts of comfort, relief and just being glad to see me and not have to hide this side of his life.

When Billy had reported to Camp Lejeune, he was assigned to the Provost Marshal’s office, and later became the NCOIC of the Brig. By this time, we were both Senior Staff NCOs, and there just weren’t that many peacetime billets for us after Vietnam wound down. Either of us was capable of sniping a target with the proverbial "One shot, one kill" accuracy at more than 750 meters, but there wasn’t much call for snipers at that time in either the Corps or civilian life, unless you wanted to apply for a job with the mob! As a result, our duty billets were more mundane. He wound up being an MP, and I trained young marines in firearms. To say we both missed the action of Vietnam would be a gross understatement. Quite frankly, we were BORED, and I guess that’s why Billy got more into the leather and bondage scene. God knows that as the NCOIC of the brig, he had plenty of time and potential victims to hone his craft. He’d also fallen in with a group of like minded friends, both military and civilian, who were really into the whole scene.

We entered Billy’s apartment, literally tearing at each other’s clothes. I was so turned on by him in leather that I couldn’t wait to get his cock in my mouth and wanted to suck it until his head caved in. This time, however, Billy played rougher than before. Just as I was getting into a rhythm, he pushed me away and threw me down on his carpeted floor and sat on my lower back while he grabbed my arms and jerked them up behind me. He took out a pair of handcuffs he had with him, and quickly snapped them on my wrists and said, "If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right." I knew that "doing it right" meant that he was going to be in charge, and I just went with the flow.

Billy got off my back and jerked me up to my knees, I let out a yelp of pain as he pulled on my arms by grabbing the handcuffs, and he quickly slapped me on the side of my head and told me to shut up or he’d make it worse for me. He went around in front of me and put his still engorged and beautiful cock back in my mouth. No matter what I did, he just would not cum. The man had great control. Instead, he pushed my head back and told me to stay where I was. He went into the bedroom for what seemed like a long time, but was really only a few minutes. He came back out and brought me to my feet by again jerking on the handcuffs. I didn’t want him to slap me on my head again, so I managed to keep relatively quiet despite the pain. He pulled me into his bedroom and forced me over his bedside table. He told me to spread my legs apart and stay where I was. He then snapped a pair of leg irons on me, and tightened them so tight that any movement brought pain. He liberally applied some lubricant to my hole, and rammed his gorgeous cock up my ass in one thrust that had me seeing stars. The sensation was all at once painful and delightful, feeling his fullness thrusting inside. He got into a rhythmic thrusting motion, and after it seemed like I couldn’t take it anymore, he finally came inside of me with a load that was so large it was dripping out of me when he pulled out.

By this time I had already cum all over the front of his table and the carpet under it, and that seemed to really piss him off. He told me to lick it off the table, and when I protested, he slapped me on the back of my head and told me to do it or else. I did a really good tongue cleaning of the table top, and then got as much off the carpet as I could, but was gagging on the fuzz and fibers in my throat from the cheap carpeting. Finally, Billy grabbed me and threw me down on his bed, and left the room.

I heard the front door open and close, and I was stuck there, handcuffed behind my back, with a pair of leg irons on me, and no key to get loose. I managed to get to my feet and shuffle out to his living room to see if he was just fucking with me, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. I looked at the door and realized it had a dead bolt that was key activated, so even if I managed to bring my hands in front of me, I still couldn’t go anywhere, since the heavy front door was securely locked. I panicked a bit, trying to think of what I would say or do if somebody found me this way, but then realized that Billy would never put me through that. We both had way too much to lose if discovered. Still, the thought of discovery and the embarrassment and derision it would bring, gave me a raging hard on that I couldn’t do anything about. I’d never been really good at bringing myself to climax by fucking my mattress. All that ever brought me was frustration and a headache as my blood fled far south of the border. I gave it a good try though, but finally relaxed and fell asleep on Billy’s bed, smelling his scent everywhere, and wanting to be with him.