Naval punishment

Hi Pote

Thanks for your kind post. This picture was just a one-off. But, its a cold very wet day so... I grabbed a pencil and I'm doing you a follow-up. But be patient.

Best Regards
TAM

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     Flint floated just below the threshhold of consciousness and felt hands tending his wounds. Then a voice, young and excited said loudly, "Doctor come here quickly." He opened his eyes and saw the young officer carrying the limp body of Birch. "Hurry, he's alive but very weak." As the doctor got up from his side, tears welled up in Flint's eyes.

                                                             Chapter 7

    "I'll be back for you in about an hour,"  the officer said as he helped Flint out of the trap.  Then he added, North's funeral must have exhausted you. You should be resting, no sick visiting."
"I'll be fine sir, really I will. Please don't bother to come back for me. I'll find my way back to camp."
"If you are really sure."
"Yes Sir, I'd like to be alone with my thoughts for a little while."
"Very well sergeant, but please don't overdo it."
"I won't Sir, goodbye."
As the horse and trap clip-clopped away, Flint resplendent in his dress uniform walked slowly, leaning heavily on his stick, through the dappled shade of the Jacaranda trees towards towards the beautiful white, high gabled building that now served as a military hospital. The black armband on his left arm was in stark contrast to the pale khaki of his uniform and the matching sling. He passed into the cool interior and a nurse rustled forward to meet him. "The lad is drowsy and very weak sergeant," she said as she led him along a corridor. "I'm afraid I can only leave you with him for a minute or two."
"I understand Sister," Flint whispered as the nurse quietly opened a door and stood aside for him to enter.

     As Flint clumped across the polished wooden floor towards the bed, Birch opened his eyes and smiled. He was deathly pale and his blue eyes looked huge in his pinched face. Flint felt a tightening
around his heart and, clearing his throat said softly, "How are you lad."
"I've felt better Sarge but they say I shall be able to go home on the hospital ship leaving tomorrow. How about you? I hear you were pretty bashed up when they found you."
"Oh I'm staying on. The bullet is my broken shoulder came out cleanly and my ribs and shin bone should mend, given time. My sprains and bruises are getting better already. But..I..I'm going to miss you." For a moment Birch did not reply but lowered his eyes to look at Flint's thick shaft, clearly discernible under the freshly pressed khaki. Softly he said, "Come closer Sarg." Flint stepped nearer.
"Closer." Flint moved forward until his groin was only an inch or so from Birch's face. Lifting his head, the trooper gently ran his mouth along the length of the hardening cock. Then his lips encircled the huge glans and for a few moments he savoured the taste and smell of this virile man, before his head dropped back onto the pillows. His eyes slowly closed as he murmured, "Goodbye Sarge, I'll never forget you."
"Goodbye lad," Flint replied and saw that Birch had fallen asleep. As he gazed down at the sleeping trooper, his cock throbbing and thrusting against the tight khaki serge, the realization came to him that he loved the young man. Tears pricked his eyes as le leaned forward to kiss the cropped head and he felt the tangle of emotions within him begin to unravel. He knew that the feelings of shame and guilt would nag him no more. Straightening up, he glanced down at himself and chuckled. There was
a very conspicuous dark disc of moisture on the pale khaki, where his jutting glans pressed against it. My God, he thought, I need a man, a blond man. He took one last look at the sleeping trooper and made his way out of the hospital into the bright sunlit courtyard.

     Moving as briskly as his injured leg would allow, he passed the tubs of vivid blue African Lillies, the gravel crunching under his gleaming riding boots, and saw the soldier guarding the arched entrance. He noted the sturdy wide-spread legs and the more than adequate bulge between them. The brim of the sentry's topi was pulled down over his nose, shading his eyes but Flint knew that from the angle of his head, the soldier was looking at his groin. As he drew nearer, the topi'd head tilted up to meet his gaze and Flint surprised himself by winking. The sentry's face broke into a broad lop-sided grin, his even teeth looking very white under his blond moustache.

                                                              The End

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Kotze the moment that the boer fired. The bullet passed under Flint's arm as his body struck Kotze and the boer dropped the detonator and gun as he went down under the soldier. Locked together the big powerful men rolled over and over on the tracks swopping blows. But neither could manage to get much weight behind their punches. Then Kotze get his hands around the soldier's throat. Flint tried to break the boer's death-grip and bucking and twisting his body desperately, at last managed to get his hands around Kotze's head. He pulled, muscles straining and the boer felt his neck being bent back. Aware that this very powerful man could snap his neck like a twig, Kotze released his grip on Flint's throat and grabbed the soldier's wrists. Both men's huge biceps bulged and trembled as they fought  to break each other's grip. Inexorably Kotze's head was pulled back and it was the sweat pouring from him that saved him. Flint's hands slipped and he lost his grip. The boer drove his elbows back into Flint's belly and rolling free, sprung to his feet. And beaten and weakened though he was, Flint was up an instant later. Kotze threw a punch to Flint's head but the soldier seemed hardly to notice as he waded in delivering two blows to the body that made the boer reel. Flint came at him again and Kotze tried to bring his knee up into the naked soldier's low swinging balls. Flint sidestepped and swung a haymaker at Kotze's jaw. The boer stumbled backwards and Flint watched in horror as he toppled onto the detonator. The explosion was like a sharp crack of thunder and huge pieces of wood were flung into the air as the far end of the bridge tumbled down into the gorge. First to recover, Kotze snatched up the gun and fired at the gaping soldier.

     The bullet hummed past Flint's ear, bringing him to his senses. He turned and made off down the track as fast as his battered body would carry him. Kotze fired and missed again. But his third shot took the soldier in the shoulder.  He saw Flint stagger to a halt and sway for a moment before vanishing down the side of the embankment. He ran to the point where the soldier has disappeared and gazed down. It was very steep but the young trees offered plenty of holds for hands and feet. Tucking his gun into his belt, Kotze stepped carefully over the edge and began to lower himself. Below him he could hear Flint crashing to the bottom. He'd hunt the naked soldier down like an animal.Then his mind turned to the coming carnage on the bridge and he smiled to himself. He didn't give his dead colleagues a second's thought. Reaching the bottom, he saw Flint running away from the bridge and along the embankment, and sprinted over the veldt to the trees where they had left their horses. Unhitching his mount, he climbed into the saddle, and cantered after Flint.

     By the time he had the naked soldier within range, Flint had cleared the embankment and was running alongside the railway line. Kotze took his horse up onto the track and riding along between the rails, fired a shot at Flint, who veered off into the scrub. Ahead Kotze saw smoke and felt a surge of elation. The train was coming. He rode down off the line and fired again at Flint, forcing him even further away from the track. The train was appoaching fast. Time now, he thought to finish this and dug his heels into his horses flanks. Kotze quickly drew level with Flint and, swinging his horse round, rode straight at him.

     Kotze's horse struck Flint and reared up almost unseating him. He quickly calmed the startled
animal and slid from the saddle. The soldier lay spreadeagled on the ground and, as Kotze approached he groaned and lifted himself up onto his elbows. Kotze kicked him in the face and knelt, straddling the semiconscious soldier. "Hear that khaki, he train will be on the bridge soon." Flint made no reply but his dark eyes glared up at Kotze, who ripped open his flies and pulled out his engorged cock. You're going to have a foot of Afrikaaner meat up your arse, you fucking whore khaki, when your mates go down into the gorge. He waved his stiff cock in Flint's face and suddenly the solder raised his head again and bit into the thick shaft. He drew back and blood spurted from the deep wound. Kotze shrieked and, as he thrashed about in panic, trying to stem the blood gushing from his cock, Flint got to his knees and snatched the gun from the boer's belt. He was so weak he needed both hands to aim the gun a Kotze before he put the last two bullets into his chest. The boer's screams ceased and Flint could again hear the train.  Flinging down the gun, he hauled himself to his feet, gasping with pain, and began a shambling run towards the railway track. He waved his arms and pointed to the bridge. The train had passed him but he staggered on until his feet tangled in the undergrowth and he pitched forward onto his face. Too late he thought as he spiralled down into darkness.

     At the end of the train, a young officer lounged against the open window, in a futile attempt to get cool. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a naked man appeared, covered in blood. He chased after the train gesticulating wildly and pointing to the brige ahead. The officer stared open-mouthed, the gasped as he saw that the man was wearing army cavalry boots. As an awful premonition began to dawn on him, the officer saw the naked man fall. The British soldier was warning them of something up ahead, he reasoned, and he shoved his head out of the window. Then he saw the approaching bridge, and he knew. Its the bridge he thought, I've got to stop the train. He pushed past a dozing soldier, climbed over his kit and pulled the emergency cord. Nothing happened. Sabotaged he realized, like everything else the bloody boers could get their hands on. He had to think fast. He'd never get through the jampacked train in time, but he could send a message. Shaking awake the soldiers around he shouted, "I think the bridge up yonder is mined and we've got to stop the train."
"Gawd Sir, what shall we do?"
"We'll pass the message to the driver like we used to in the game we played at school."
"Right you are Sir, listen lads. The bridge is mined, stop the train. Right pass it on to the driver."
The  officer heard the message being sent, with added expletives, rapidly up the train and looked out of the window again. The train was now on the embankment and to jump from here would mean certain death. He hoped they had time.

     The bridge was only yards ahead when the driver was given the message, loud and clear. "The fucking bridge is minded, stop the bloody train." As the fireman clanged shut the firebox door, he applied the brakes. The train gave a jolt and slowed as the engine's locked wheels screeched like a banshee. But it continued to move across the bridge, propelled by the tremendous weight of the packed carriages and the driver saw that the last trestle was gone and only the metal rails spanned the gap. Slower and slower the engine came and out onto the unsupported rails. For several incredible seconds they held, then sagged down and gave way. Very gently the engine tipped into the gap and became wedged between the broken wooden supports. Immediately the troops began an orderly evacuation, unaware that they were a hair's breadth from death.

     There were still more than fifty men on the train, together with the fireman and driver when the supports shifted and the engine slipped further into the gap. There was a tremendous jolt which flung some of the men to their knees. Then they carried on trotting briskly along the train and leaping down onto the bridge. When the supports finally gave way, the engine plummeted down into the gorge, dragging the now empty carriages with it.  The train hit the rocks with an earsplitting crash and the squeal of tearing metal put the watching men's teeth on edge. Then the engine's boiler burst and the sound of the explosion, amplified by the walls of the gorge, was truly deafening.

     As clouds of steam hid the horrific scene of destruction in the gorge, the young officer rounded up a dozen men he knew and they ran down to the bottom of the embankment and back along the track.
When they reached the point where the officer thought he'd seen the naked soldier he halted the men and spaced them out in a line parallel to the track. Then they moved forward slowly and found the unconscious soldier in a matter of minutes. The officer gathered Flint into the crook of his arm and wiped the blood from his face before forcing a little water between his battered lips. Flint moaned  and opened his eyes."Its all right soldier, we lost the train but all the men are safe." Flint moaned again and his head dropped forward. "Don't sleep yet soldier," the officer said and gently lifted Flint's head. "Were you alone? Were there any more of you?"  Flint's eyes opened for a moment and he said, his voice little more than a croak "Yes back there...dead." He weakly waved his arm in the direction of the tree and his head slumped forward again.

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Badly winded, North knew that the boers would be there in a couple of seconds. He plunged into the undergrowth and forced his way through the dense vegetation as fast as he could. Very aware that he was leaving a trail any skilled tracker could follow blindfolded, he expected the boers to be on him any second. But there were no sounds of pursuit and as the minutes ticked by he began to realize that they had lost him. Halting his headlong flight, he cautiously peered over the top of the bushes. He saw the boers searching the scrub a mile or so away to the west and heaved a sigh of relief. His first concern now was to find shelter. Although still very early in the day, the sun was very hot. He looked about him and soon found one of the curious tumbles of rock, very common on the veldt. A large slab of rock formed a slight overhang on the northen side and this, together with the screening thorn- bushes,  offered an ideal place for him to rest and take stock. After first making sure that no other creature was already in residence, he crawled gratefully into the shade.

     Naked and with no horse, food or water, North knew that he'd not stand much chance of getting across the veldt alive. So he'd have to try to stop the boers killing a trainload of soldiers himself. He'd
even have to rescue the youngster and that tight-arsed sergeant. Not that he'd be so tight-arsed, he thought with a grin, after Kotze had finished with him. He reached for the rifle and what he found wiped the grin from his face. Two bullets, only two fucking bullets.

     Flint and Birch stood in the hot sunshine watching the boers ranging further and further afield in their search for North. Kotze appeared outwardly calm but he couldn't keep still and he was sweating heavily. Birch was surreptitiously loosening the rope binding his wrists behind him. He'd managed to untie one knot but it was slow work. He turned to glance at Flint and his eyes dropped to the man's huge cock. The sergeant caught the directioon of his gaze and grinned. He blushed and looking away, saw that the young afrikaaner Lang had quietly joined them. His very pale face was bruised and swollen. He had recovered his clothes and was again neatly dressed. But he hadn't found his drawers Birch thought with amazement as he noticed the large prominent bulge in his trousers. Then he recalled Lang's screams and pleas for mercy during the night, and sobered instantly. Suddenly Kotze grabbed his pistol and fired into the air. As the sound of the shot reverberated over the silent veldt he waved and yelled, "That's enough, come back. We've got to get down to the bridge.

     Lying in his lair, North heard the shot and also knew that it was time to move.

                                                                         Chapter 6

     North lay in the scrub and watched the men standing before the steep tree-clad embakment that carried the railway line up onto the long wooden trestle bridge. He could hear the distant roar of the falls. The lean young man produced some items of equipment from his saddlebags and as Kotze hunkered down beside him, North recognised a detonator and what he took to be yards and yards of fuse. He aimed the rifle at Kotze but his target stood up and moved away. Lang got up too and North saw that he had headphones slung loosely around his neck and held a wide belt in his left hand.He watched Lang approach the nearby telegraph pole and with the aid of the belt begin to work his way up. He made a perfect target and when he reached the top, North put a bullet neatly between his shoulder blades. Without waiting to see Lang fall, he quickly sought his next target. But everything was a blur of movement and he lost valuable seconds trying to get Kotze in his sights. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the men running for his horse and brought his rifle round. Then, there in his sights was another of the boers. Without hesitation he fired and blood fountained from the man's chest as he fell. North flung the rifle away and dived back into the undergrowth. As he crashed through the bushes, a mounted boer appeared on his right. Frantically he ducked to the left and into the path of another man who opened fire.

     For a second after Lang had been shot and tumbled from the telegraph pole everyone had stood stock still in shock. But recovering fast, Kotze had sprung towards the two remaining prisoners and was safely behind them before Wessels went down. Flint winced as Kotze jabbed his pistol into his sore back, and a few moments later there was a volley of shots. Flint's heart sank as the two boers in the scrub whooped with delight. "Oh my God, Sarge, they've got North," Birch whispered and as he turned his stricken face towards him, Flint saw the glimmer of tears.

     The two boers moment of elation was brief and by the time they dismounnted in front of Kotze their expressions were grim. "We put six bullets in him, pity we didn't do it sooner."
"Ja" this companion added, "The bastard's really fucked things up. What the hell are we going to do?"
"You Myburg, are going to tie these two bastards to this tree and me and Malan here are going to get the dynamite onto the bridge. When this is over, we'll fuck their arses red raw before we chuck them into the gorge to join their khaki mates."

     The last knot finally gave way and Birch got his wrists free of the rope securing them to the tree. It was past noon and the heat was fierce. Myburg was dozing in  the shade of a nearby tree, his back propped against its thick trunk. As the young trooper worked, as quickly as possible with his numb fingers, to free the sergeant's wrists, Flint suddenly yelled, "Behind you lad, look out." Birch spun round just as Myburg came at him with a knife. Flint struggled frantically to finish untying himself as the boer lunged at Birch and missed. Birch struck out, but Myburg dodged the blow easily and lunged again. The trooper danced out of danger and Flint broke free. But as he stepped forward, Birch made a grab for the knife, missed and Myburg drove it, up to the hilt into chest. With s roar of rage, Flint flung himself onto Myburg and they crashed to the ground. The boer lashed out with the knife, red with Birch's blood, and slashed Flint's forearm. Ignoring the pain, Flint grabbed Myburg's wrist in a vice-like grip and wrapped his free arm around the boer's neck. Myburg twisted and kicked futilely as the life was slowly crushed out of him and was already dead when Flint snapped his neck. Getting to his feet, Flint felt a wave of grief threatening to engulf him. But this isn't the time, he thought, as he looked at the embankment before him. There would be time to grieve later. He brushed the tears from his cheeks with a hairy wrist, and without looking back, headed towards the embankment.

     The climb was very steep and Flint had to use the trunks of trees and the tough thornbushes to haul himself upwards. With sweat pouring from him and bleeding from a score of deep scatches, he reached the top and saw Malan standing on his left, facing down the track. He looked to his right out across the bridge but there was no sign of Kotze. As he sprung forward the boer spun round and swung the rifle butt at his head. The blow sent Flint staggering backwards and Malan thrust the rifle again at his head. The blow struck Flint's forehead and he dropped to one knee, blood dripping from his brows. Malan feinted with the rifle and, as Flint's arms came up to ward off the blow, swung his boot hard into soldier's big balls. Flint gave a loud grunt and went down onto his back. Malan stood over him sneering, with the rifle poised. "I'm going to pound those big fucking donkey balls into schnitzl meat." When Flint tried to rise Malan again struck him on the side of the head. The naked soldier fell back and the boer stamped down hard on his groin. Flint pulled up his knees and rolled unto his side. Ducking his head and taking the next rifle blow on his shoulders he grabbed the boer's legs and yanked. Malan felt himself falling but flinging out his free arm he managed to save himself.
He quickly righted himself but Flint was already up and ready for him. The boer lashed out again but Flint ducked under the swinging rifle and drove his fist into Malan's belly with enough force to lift to lift him off the ground. The boer doubled-up and stumbled back perilously close to the embankment's edge. Then Flint's huge fist struck his chin, lifting him up and pitching him out into thin air. Malan's scream ceased abruptly when his falling body struck the first of many trees on its way down to the veldt below.

     Flint dropped to his knees, badly winded, and sucked in huge mouthfuls of air as his spinning head steadied.  Suddenly he heard a voice and whirled round to see Kotze standing on the track, the detontor, trailing yards of fuse, under one arm and a pistrol in his free hand. He launched himself at

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belt with all his might. He wanted to strap the spunk out of the tough sergeant but the pressure in his own aching balls mounted steadily until it could no longer be denied. With an oath, he tossed the belt aside, tugged off his boots and pulled down his trousers.

     Flint's body was trembling, his heart pounding in his ears and his breathing fast and shallow. The fiery stings of the belt had merged into a great blaze of burning excitement. The fear vanished, leaving a great aching emptiness that he craved to have filled.  He needed pain, more pain to fill the void. When at last he felt Kotze's glans pressed against he arse hole he clenched tight his sphincter and braced himself. The pain, when it came, was excruciating. It felt as if a huge fist was being rammed up into his guts and he gave a long deep moan. Then before the pain could ebb away, Kotze began to fuck him. Flint grunted and snorted uncontrollably, which drove the boer into a sadistic frenzy. It could not last long and when Kotze made his final brutal thrust, he sank his teeth deep into
the soldier's shoulder. But Flint was only aware of a tiny prick of pain as the heavy sweaty body pressed down on him and he felt the huge cock throbbing as Kotze pumped his spunk into him.

     The red fog of lust in Flint's mind slowly dissipated as the throbs of the cock buried deep in him began to ebb and he winced as Kotze withdrew his teeth from the deep bite in his shoulder. As awareness returned to the soldier, an enormous feeling of shame welled up in him. Kotze's cock, as hard and heavy as an iron stake, was still buried deep in his guts and it seemed to Flint that it pinned him to the stone wall beneath. Finally Kotze raised his body a little and Flint groaned as he felt the cock move. But Kotze didn't withdraw, instead he slammed his cock back in hard and Flint cried,
"Oh Christ dutchman, no more please."
"Stop snivelling you runt of a whore, I have'nt even started yet," Kotze snarled and began to pound Flint's battered arse again. But now the thrusts were deep, slow and hard, brutally hard. Lust flared up again in Flint and his body thrummed with excitement. Kotze's second explosion was a long time coming. He fucked relentlessly, rejoicing in his virility and power over the big strong soldier. But his orgasm could not be denied for ever and as it boiled up at last, he drove ever harder into Flint.

     Kotze pulled out and looked around for something to wipe himself with. Finding nothing, he dropped down beside his victim, and leaning back against the rough stone wall, closed his eyes. Slowly his heart rate slowed but the lust burning in his belly was undiminished. When he opened his eyes some minutes later, he looked around at Flint still bent over the wall beside him and smirked. The soldier had fired a very generous load and it had run down the stonework to gather between his boots. And big gobs of Kotze's own spunk oozed from the soldier's arse and dripped down to join the gathering pool.

     Hauling himself to his feet, Kotze slapped Flint's belt-reddened arse, "Get up you runt of a whore." Flint complied with some difficulty and captive and captor faced each other. Both men's rock hard cocks jutted out drooling freely. Eyeing Flint's gleaming shaft Kotze said "Now its your turn to give me one. I want that big ram of yours up my arse."
"Never you filthy pervert. Do you hear, never."
"You'll do as I say or I'll make you."
"You could never make me do something so foul."
"We'll see," said Kotze as he moved over to his saddlebags. He produced some rope and walked back to Flint. Firstly he tied one length around Flint's waist. Then he roped Flint's wrists to it at the back, before releasing them again one at a time and securing them at the front. Flint struggled but as only one arm was free at a time, he could only offer limited resistance. Then he was grabbed by the balls and dragged, wincing and grunting, to the end of the barn. Kotze threw two lengths of rope up over one of the rafters and secured Flint's wrists to it. He walked back to his saddlebags and returned with his sjambok, holding it up for the naked spreadeagled soldier to see. Flint paled under his tan but stared defiantly at Kotze and snarled, "Do your worst, you bastard."
"My best you mean. Don't worry, I have whipped an army of men better than you into submission you big-dicked english fairy." Kotze sauntered around the soldier and let his eyes rove over the rippling back muscles and the big hard musclsr buttocks. He reached down and rubbed his hand over his oozing glans. Tucking the whip under his arm for a moment he massaged the lube into his palms.
Then he gripped the sjambok firmly and threw back his arm.

     Flint's body jerked involuntarily as the whip drew a fiery line across his shoulders and, though the pain was sharper, more intense than the belt, he felt the same excitement stir within him.Lash after lash followed, Kotze spacing them evenly down the soldier's back and over his buttocks. Breathing
deeply, Flint fought to contain his growing excitement. He tried to concentrate on the pain rather than the effect it was having on him. Then, when Kotze started to cross-hatch his back, the pain doubled and Flint began to grunt loudly. This was what Kotze wanted to hear. "That's right soldier boy, let's hear you sing," he jeered. Although his own excitement was increasing, Kotze kept his blows consistant. Hard but not hard enough to cut deeply. He knew that each time he cross-hatched Flint's back the pain doubled. He also knew that he had a hard tough man here, and he guessed he'd have to cross-hatch the bastard about six times before he passed out. But that wouldn't be necessary, he'd have fun and get what he wanted without going that far.

    The broken-nosed man snored softly as North lay listening to the crack of the whip and the sharp grunts of pain. He knew that Flint was getting flogged, The big sanctimonious bastard had it coming and when North had laid eyes on Kotze he'd known it would be very soon. It was a pity though, he couldn't watch the sergeant's muscular body squirm under the lash. Putting aside that exciting thought, he tugged the blanket and the man beside him was instantly awake. "Had enough already,
farmer's boy?"
"I'll never get enough of that arse of yours," the man replied.

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     Now only Kotze, Malan the man taking first watch, and Flint, sitting naked on the grass remained. The night was dark and still, and there was not the slightest breath of wind to disturb the silence. Then came a long deep moan, sounding nearer that it actually was and Flint's blood ran cold. Kotze stood, his cocked to one side, listening to the rhythmic grunts that followed, for a moment, then turned to Malan. "I'll take the lamp, if its alright with you?"
"Yes, the fire's still burning well and the moon will be up soon." Kotze picked up the lamp and walked towards Flint. "On your feet."

     The two naked men wrestled  in the glow of the flickering candle. Although much lighter than the heavily muscled Wessels, Lang, the young communications expert, at first held his own. His fear, seemingly giving him extra strength. But the immensely powerful Wessels finally had Lang pinned under him. The struggle had brought his sexual excitement to fever pitch and he frantically jabbed his throbbing cock again and again between Lang's smooth hard buttocks. Suddenly Lang screamed and reared up under him as Wessels felt his glans slide into his warm tight channel. He slammed home hard and began to fuck ferociously, crushing the grunting man's futile struggles.

     In another barn nearby, the red-headed corporal gasped in pain as he was impaled on the broken- nosed man's thick cock. He had used his mouth on the boer's hard muscular body at first, and the man had become very excited. As he'd untied North's wrists, with trembling hands, he had said, "Remember my friends are nearby and I only need to raise my voice to get help. Not that I can't handle a little runt like you."
"I'm sure you can," North had replied, hiding a smile. Then he'd added as he'd tweaked the man's nipples and begun to caress the hard hairy pecs, "You are much bigger and stronger than me." Then
he'd used his hands and lips until the man was moaning with pleasure, before he'd said, "You're not much good at fucking though. Or did your friends watching this afternoon put you off."  In reply,
the man had cuffed him and flipped him onto his belly. Now the man fucked him savagely, anger giving an added sput to his lust. He had managed to get his hands free, North thought, but he'd worry about that latter. For the moment he'd give himself up to the pain-wracked ecstasty. "Come on dutchman, can't you do better than that. 

     Kotze put down the lamp and turned to look at the big sergeant standing with his arms lashed behind him and legs braced wide. He ran his eyes over the superbly muscled body and lowered his gaze briefly to the thick turgid cock, swinging between the hairy thighs. Then he stepped forward and punched Flint in the mouth. The soldier stumbled back a step and Kotze sneered, "On your knees scum or do you want me to put you there?"
"Put me there is you're man enough, you dutch pansy." Kotze threw a flurry of blows, snapping Flint's head from side to side before driving his big fist, with all his weight behind it, into the soldier's belly.

     In the darkness, Birch lay on his bound arms with his ankles locked around Myburg's thick neck. The big boer drove into him ruthlessly and he grunted and tightened his arse muscle to meet each thrust. He imagined that the panting man leaning over him was Flint and he felt his orgasm well up from his balls.

     Blood sprayed out of Flint's battered mouth as he was grabbed by the shoulders and flung away from the wall. Kotze then drove the naked bound man around the barn, delivering a barrage of blows to his belly and upper body. The grunts of pain grew sharper and Kotze felt his fists sinking deeper into Flint's belly as the soldier's abdominal muscles began to weaken. He now alternated punches to the head with huge hammer blows to Flint's belly, until the soldier's legs buckled at last, and he dropped to his knees. Flint knelt before his tormentor, his chin down on his hairy chest as his world rocked violently. Above the roar of the blood rushing in his ears, he heard Kotze's sneering voice.
"Not man enough eh? Now lick my boots you runt of a whore." Knowing he'd pass out if he shook  his head, Flint lifted it gingerly and saw the huge cock tenting the boer's trousers only inches away. He tore his gaze away and looked up into Kotze's flushed face. Although his nose and mouth were full of blood and snot, he managed to form the word, "No."
"You will khaki, believe me you will," Kotze said and, stepping around Flint, hauled him to his feet by his bound arms.

     Dragging the badly dazed soldier across the barn, Kotze flung him over the waist-high wall. With no hands to protect himself, Flint landed heavily, the rough stone grazing his chest and belly. But he hardly noticed the pain as his head cleared, and his blood seemed to turn to ice. He was at the man's mercy. Beat me again if you must, he thought, but not that, please God, not that. Kotze ran his hand over the beautifully rounded muscular arse and Flint flinched violently. Running his forefinger up the hairy crack Kotze located the quivering pucker-hole. He resisted the urge to ram his finger in and gently rubbed it. Flint was visibly trembling and Kotze smiled as he straightened up. Unbuckling his thick belt, he pulled it free and wrapped it a couple of times around his fist.

     Flint gave a yelp, more of shock than pain, when Kotze brought the belt down across his arse with a resounding crack. He flinched slightly when Kotze struck again but made no sound. The boer moved back a little and, swinging the belt as hard as he could, felt a momentary twinge of disappointment. The soldier held his body rigid and made no further noise. But Kotze's slow burning lust began to grow hotter as he lashed the reddening hairy buttocks. He saw the big glans, that had withdrawn in fear into its foreskin, in front of the swinging balls, emerge again. It gleamed and oozed lube as Flint's huge cock swelled and lengthened. Kotze began to sweat as he continued to swing the

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and then into his eyes. Birch had clearly enjoyed the rape, Flint thought and it must be obvious to the lad that he'd been, despite himself, very excited watching. Then the man put an arm around the trooper's neck and led him to the group sitting with Kotze.  To add to his warring, emotions Flint felt a stab of jealousy.

                                                         Chapter 5

     The setting sun was throwing long shadows across the veldt when they reached Drusdorp. More a collection of barns and farmsteads than a village, it was a forlorn sight. Most the the rooves had fallen in and the doors and window frames had gone. The departing farmers had taken everything that was transportable with them. A horse was tethered to a stunted tree beside the overgrown paddock and a figure emerged fron the nearby barn as they approached. He was a lean broad-shouldered man with longish blond hair, which, although he was barely twenty four, was already thinning .His face was long and narrow and his moustache thin and wispy. He hated the war, hated being out here on the veldt and hated above all the rough uncouth farmers. Nervously he watched the appproaching horse-
men and his anxiety turned to amazement when he saw that three of the men appeared to be naked. They reined in and he recognised the leader as he climber down from his saddle. His heart sank as Kotze swaggered up to him. "I see its Lang, you little runt," he sneered. "Couldn't they find a real man for the job?" Lang made no reply and lowered his eyes. "Look at me when I'm talking to you," Kotze snarled, grabbing Lang's shirt and pulling him close. Lang stared into the cruel hard eyes and his face went very pale. "Have you been up the telegraph pole yet," Kotze barked and Lang smelt the reek of stale brandy on his breath. "Y..Yes sir, Lang stammered.
"And?"
"I noted down some s..stuff about their m.movements and a troop train is coming up the line tomorrow.."
"What? My God, when?
"They didn't say for sure, but some time in the afternoon."
Kotze gave a whoop of delight and shoved Lang away from him. "We can blow the bridge and send a whole train load of those fucking khaki bastards into the gorge at the same time." The other boers had dismounted and were either massaging their saddle-sore balls or pissing, when they heard Kotze's yell. They gathered around him, laughing and thumping each other on the back, their big fat cocks flopping out of their open flies. Lang cautiously  eyed the mass display of manhood for a long as he dared, then averted his gaze and felt a jolt of excitement. The three naked men had also dismounted and were standing together wrists bound before them. The hubbub died down and Kotze turned to Lang, "Are you armed?"
"Yes Sir."
"Good, keep an eye of these three. We are going to find somewhere to sleep in this bloody ruin."
Without waiting for a reply, Kotze strode off with his four henchmen.

     They inspected the ruined buildings. then got their saddles and bedrolls. The weather remained hot and dry, and privacy, rather than shelter, was what they sought after weeks together under canvas.
Kotze was the last to return to the paddock and found fires had been lit and supper was already cooking. He was very pleased with himself, having found a barn with a couple of rafters still in place which had once been half-timbered at one end. The wooden panels had been removed, leaving a waist high stone wall some four feet wide, which would be perfect for what he had in mind. He took a portion of stew and dumplings and sat on the coarse grass with his back to a broken-off post. Nobody felt inclined to talk much and when the prisoners were untied and given their food, the boers sat wartching and smoking their cheroots in silence.

     The broken-nosed man was the first to move. He got to his feet with studied nonchalance and sauntered over to the prisoners. He looked down at the red-headed corporal and jerked his head. North climbed to his feet and the man roped his wrists tightly behind his back before leading him off into the darkness. The man who'd gone back for more at the gang-rape was next on his feet. As he stepped towards the soldiers, the other two boers leapt to their feet. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" one yelled. "Ja, who the fuck do you think you are?" the other piped up, trying to block the man's way. The man shoved him roughly aside and the other boer grabbed his arm. He swung a punch that sent him staggering backwards, then turned to square up to the other. Kotze came to his feet, sjambok in hand and yelled, "That's enough. You, Myburg, take the blond prisoner. You were the only one man enough to put two up him this afternoon." With a smirk on his face, Myburg strode over to Birch as the other two men began to protest. "Shut your mouths," Kotze roared. "As you can't do anything but moan, I'll decide for you. You.. Wessels, can have Lang here and you Malan, will take the first watch." Both men looked amazed and Kotze added, "Wessels will take second watch and you Malan can then have Lang."  The men burst into laughter as Lang leapt to his feet and yelled,
"No, you can't, its disgusting, I won't let you ." As Wessels, grinning broadly, came towards him, Lang shouted, "No keep away from me," his voice shrill with fear. He pushed Wessels away and threw a wild punch, which the grinning man easily dodged. Then the burly boer punched Lang on the point of the jaw and he fell to the ground senseless.

     Wessels dropped to one knee, pulled off Lang's boots and socks and carefully removed his jerkin and shirt, revealing a lean wiry torso. He folded the clothes with exaggerated care and placed them beside the boots on the grass. "We don't want our city gentleman shinning up telegraph poles in shabby clothes, do we," Wessels said, undoing the belt and yanking Lang's trousers down to his
knees. Lang was wearing long baggy drawers. They all hooted with laughter and Wessels said, in the same mocking tone, "Now those gentlemen, really must go." He ripped off the offending garment and flung it away into the darkness then gaped in astonishment at the thick cut cock lying across Lang's hairy belly. I did'nt dream he was that well endowed he said getting to his feet. "Why not?" Kotze said, "He's an afrikaaner, isn't he." Wessels made no reply as he hoisted Lang onto his shoulder and carried him off onto the night.

MP @ Nazis

MP in serious trouble

TAM

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     North watched the men meekly take their sticks from the broken-nosed man, evidence, if any more was needed, of his toughness and ruthlessness.Then he noticed that North was watching him and the smirk of trimph slowly slipped from his face. The dark eyes locked with North's for a second
before they coolly ran over the corporal's naked body. North fixed his eyes on the man's groin and watched the hard cock move under the rough cotton trousers as he strutted towards him. He stopped in front of North, knuckles on hips, and leaned forward. His smell and cruel male hardness sent a shiver down his spine and he thought he was going to kiss him. Instead he spat in North's face but he held his gaze as the spit ran down his nose and cheeks. It trickled through his moustache and the man watched North carefully catch each droplet with his tongue.  "Perverted pig," he man snarled in Afrikaans and slapped North's hard jutting cock viciously. North grunted and jerked forward, and the man gave him a resounding slap across the face before turning away. North lifted his head and watched the man's broad retreating back. He was only playing up to the man, he lied to himself, in the hope that a situation would arise that we could turn to his advantage. Suddenly feeling a little sheepish he glanced at Flint, tied naked to the tree beside him. But the sergeant didn't appear to have noticed anything. His face was flushed with anger and his eyes were fixed on the naked young trooper. North feasted his eyes on Flint's huge drooling cock for a moment or two before he turned his head back to watch the drama unfolding before them.

    Kotze turned Birch around until he was standing sideways to the two bound soldiers and said loudly "Down boy, on all fours. You're going to get it like a bitch on heat." Birch complied and Kotze
kicked his knees wide apart. As he unbuttoned his flies, he looked down at the trooper's muscular arse and the big balls swinging between the well spread thighs. Although the lad's crack was filled thickly with golden hair, he could clearly see the pucker hole. It looked like a small pink rosebud he thought as he hooked out his rigid cock. He eased out his aching balls and knelt between the trooper's boots. Positioning his glans carefully, he gripped Birch above the hips and shoved hard. The small tight ring of muscle did not yield and Kotze laughed. He adjusted his cock slightly then suddenly yanked the trooper's body backwards as he gave a tremendous push. Birch gave a yell of shock and pain as the big glans broke through and entered him. The watching men gave a loud cheer.

     Kotze shunted back a little then gave another brutal shove and North saw Birch bare his teeth in a snarl of pain. He's resisting because of the sergeant he thought and watched Kotze shove again. It was painful and futile, a man as strong and ruthless as Kotze could not be denied. Kotze lunged again and the men cheered when they saw that the trooper was fully impaled. Birch's cropped head dropped submissively between his shoulders and, as Kotze withdrew and slammed his cock in again hard, North was relieved to see that all restistance was gone.

    As Kotze rode him hard, Birch felt crushed, his mind numbed with shame. But he slowly, at first, began to realize that the savage deep thrusts produced a sensation that, although akin to pain, was exquisite. He tried to deny the glow of excitement it kindled in his belly but found himself pushing
back to meet Kotze's powerful thrusts. He now also became aware of the hard muscular arms wrapped around him and his excitement flared as his engorged cock jerked wildly between his thighs.
Kotze began to snort and his thrusts came faster, harder and Birch knew that the man was about to explode. Then with a shock, he realized that he himself was also close. He couldn't let Flint see that
and prayed desperately that he could hold back. Giving a final savage thrust, Kotze shot his big pent-up load into Birch's guts and somehow the trooper was able to keep his own orgasm in check. Kotze clung fiercely to the young soldier's body until his final spasm had subsided, then, surprisingly
gently, pulled out and got to his feet. He snatched up a tattered khaki shirt and, seeing the stripes turned to face the sergeant and, with a smirk on his face he wiped his cock and balls.

     The broken-nosed man shoved Birch down onto his belly and spread his legs wide before he took him with one vicious lunge. Although not as big as Kotze, his ruthless thrusts hurt more. But the sharp stabs of pain only seemed to enhance Birch's pleasure, and when the man finally exploded, the trooper could hold back no longer and fired his load into the grass under his belly. He too picked up a torn shirt, this time the corporal's and turned so that North could see his gleaming, still hard, cock as he wiped it.

    While the next man fucked the trooper, Kotze produced a bottle of brandy from his saddle bags.  The broken-nosed man joined him and they sat drinking and smoking cheroots. When the man had finished with Birch, he strolled over to them, his still rigid cock sticking out of his flies. Kotze glanced down at it as he handed him a glass of brandy. "Does that mean you want to give him another one, by any chance?" Kotze asked,  as the man sat cross-legged beside him. "Yes that tight khaki arse is better 'n cunt."
"You randy sod, but you'll have to be quick, I've got things to do in Drusdorp."
"What the hell will you find to do at Drusdorp?"
Kotze stared hard at the naked sergeant and made no reply.

     The remaining two men took Birch roughly and left him lying on his belly as they joined the others for a tot. The still randy man tossed his cheroot aside and, climbing to his feet, sauntered over to the prostrate trooper. He flipped Birch over and lifted his legs onto his meaty shoulders. The trooper moaned as the big shaft sank into him and rolled his head from side to side as the man began to fuck him. The new angle of penetration put greater pressure on Birch's prostate and the heightened sensation made him nearly delirious. All control gone, he began to grunt like an animal and the man responded by fucking him even more firiously. The man wanted to give the youngster a ride he'd never forget, wanted the wonderful fuck to last for ever. Sweat poured from him and he gritted his teeth as he managed to hold back his impending orgasm but still keep up the remorseless pounding of Birch's arse. But finally the lad exploding under him and firing great gouts of spunk into his face triggered that man's massive eruption.

     Flint watched the man pull out of Birch and wipe himself on a tattered piece of shirt. He pulled the trooper to his feet and untying his wrists, handed him the spunky khaki rag. "Clean yourself up."
Birch wiped the spunk from his face and chest before rubbing it from the matted golden hair on his belly and groin. Although anger still smouldered in Flint's guts, he was trembling with excitement. As the man rebound his wrists, Birch looked over his shoulder at Flint , first lingeringly at his cock and


    

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     The rode into the cool shade and the men quickly dismounted and led their horses to the small stream to drink. The smirk still firmly in place, Kotze ordered the soldiers to dismount and, as Birch climbed down, ran his fingers up the crack of the trooper's arse. "You filthy bastard," yelled Flint and lunged forward, wrists still bound, and grasped Kotze by the throat. Desperately Kotze tried to dislodge the crushing fingers but the big soldier was immensely strong. A brawny bearded boer flung a muscular arm around Flint's neck and tried to haul him away from Kotze but the sergeant braced his legs wide and tightened his grip on his throat. The blood was pounding in Kotze's ears and red and black stars exploded in his head as he struggled to break the soldier's death grip. As darkness began to close in on him, he heard a faint voice, seemingly miles away crying, "Knee him Kotze, for God's sake knee him in the ballocks." Blindly Kotze obeyed, bringing his knee as hard as he could between Flint's thighs. The grip of the fingers around his throat slackened and he sucked in air gratefully as he brought up his knee again.

     North watched Kotze's knee thud into Flint's big balls a third time before the solider's legs buckled and he relinquished his grip on the boer's throat Two men now had had a firm grip on the soldier's arms but he still struggled fiercely. Suddenly the broken-nosed boer appeared and, pivoting off his left foot, swung a tremendous punch at Flint's head. The blow snapped his head around to the right and he drove his fist into the sergeant's belly. Then, as the winded soldier still tried to break free, he struck him on the right side of his jaw with enough force to lift him off the ground. The men holding Flint stumbled backwards as he crashed to the ground and lay still. "Thank you," a swaying Kotze croaked, rubbing his throat. He sucked in air noisily for a minute or two before he husked, "Now strip him down to his boots and, when he comes to, tie him to that tree."

     The broken-nosed man licked his knuckles and looked down at the sprawled sergeant as another boer dropped to one knee beside him. He undid the heavy military buckle and pulling the thick leather belt free, carefully rolled it up and shoved into his arse pocket. Grinning up at Broken-nose for a moment, he then straddled Flint and tore the sweat sodden khaki shirt open before ripping his breeches down to the crotch with a might yank. Rising to his feet, he roughly kicked Flint's legs together and North got a glimpse of the sergeant's thick public bush before he was rolled over onto his belly. The boer tore the remains of the shirt away before producing a very sharp little knife to cut
the breeches away from the cavalry boots. Then he pulled down the breeches and stopped for a moment to admire the big rounded muscular buttocks before ripping them free. Rising to his feet the boer flung the tattered khaki remants aside and grinned again at broken-nose. "Got the rope," he said
his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Course I have fathead," broken-nose replied and as he knelt to lash Flint's wrists together the big soldier moaned.

      Flint came to and as his head cleared he realized that he was lying naked on his belly, his wrists bound behind him. He lifted his head and spat to get the dust out of his mouth as a boot slammed into his ribs. "On your feet scum, come on, move it." Flint hauled himself up onto one knee, then rising to his feet glared down at the stocky muscular boer whose eyes were fixed on his huge tumescent cock.
"You fucking pervert," Flint snarled then grunted in pain as the boer roughly grabbed him by his bruised balls and yanked him over to a large tree, where he secured him by wrists and neck. The man then turned and giving Kotze a broad grin, etched a military salute. "All present and correct sir," he said in English. But his flippancy, belied by the full erection discernable in his tight trousers, passed
unnoticed by Kotze who was staring at the big naked soldier. He was grudgingly impressed by the width of the man's shoulders, the thick hard pecs and the massive biceps, but it was the huge uncut cock that made him gape. Proud though he was of his own impressive endowment, he had to admit that the soldier was bigger and much thicker than him. The cock was fully erect and the enormous gleaming glans oozed lube. Suddenly he had a powerful urge to have that great shaft driven into him.
Angrily he brushed the thought away, he'd beat the bastard, beat and subjugate him before he gelded and branded him like a broken stallion. Next to Kotze the broken-nosed man murmured, "That's thick enough to hang a bucket of shit on." Kotze gave a start and looked guiltily at the men standing around him.What the hell was he doing staring at another man's dick? His anger erupted and he yelled,"What the fuck are you lot looking at, strip that ginger khaki and tie him next to this bastard."

     North's shirt was ripped off and the men, using their clasp knives, cut and tore away his breeches.
Kotze watched for a moment as North was tied to a tree next to Flint in similar fashion then he turned his attention to the blond trooper, who stood, head up and legs wide braced. Although pale faced, he stared defiantly at the huge boer and Kotze smiled grimly as a hot surge of lust gripped his guts. Stepping forward he flicked open his blade, cut Birch's wrists free and slipped the knife back into his arse pocket. Putting his big hairy hands into the open neck of Birch's shirt, he pulled the trooper so close, his head was barely a couple of inches away from Kotze's leering face. Birch got a whiff of stale sweat then flinched as Kotze yanked his shirt open to the waist. For a long momen the boer stared into the young soldier's face, relishing the look of fear in his blue eyes, then he shoved him away."Strip," he yelled. Birch saw the looks on the men's flushed faces and dropped his gaze. But his eyes were drawn inexorably to their groins and their hard jutting cocks. Terror gripped him and he flinched again when Kotze bawled "Strip you runt of a whore, or I'll take a whip to you." Birch shrugged off his shirt, tugged off his boots and removed his breeches. "Put your boots back on, Pretty Boy, I don't want a snake to rob us of our pleasure," Kotze sneered. Birch complied with trembling hands and his large thick cut cock began to throb and harden. Then as he straightened up he felt shame run through his blood like acid.  He had a full erection. Kotze's voice cut through the men's laughter "You'd better sort your order out. I don't want any fights." The broken nosed man stripped a twig from a nearby bush and broke it into three sticks and grasped them in his fist with only the tip of each showing. "I follow Kotze and you three can draw sticks," he said. There was a moment's tense silence, then slowly the men drew their sticks.as

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Standing a head taller than his smirking men, Kotze gazed down at the commander with an expression of injured innocence on his face. The commander stared up at him for a few moments before he sat back in his canvas chair and said, "Well that seems to be all, we will set off early tomorrow morning for Lydenburg. Any questions?" No one spoke and he rose to his feet, "Very well that will be all." As Kotze and his men swaggered off, he turned to the bearded scout, "Would you and your companion like me to provide a tent for the night, Van Riebeeck?"  *
"No thank you sir, there is still an hour or so of daylight left and we should be on our way." The men shook hands and the scouts headed for their horses. As North watched them depart, Flint whispered to him, "Did you get all that?"
"Yes Sarge, I did and if they knew they'd probably shoot me."

     Later in their moonlit tent, North sat close to his companions and told them what we had learnt. "Maybe we'll get a chance to escape," the blond lad Birch whispered."Our chances will be a lot better but there will still be five of them," Flint replied. The trooper nodded and allowed his body to sag, a little more, against the sergeant. The feel of the big man's hard muscles against him and the smell of his sweat made Birch begin to harden.  "Let's get some sleep," North said, and crawled over to his bedroll. Flint sat back and to Birch's surprise, laid his heavy arm around his shoulders. They sat together for several minutes before the sergeant lifted the trooper's face towards his and kissed him fiercely. As their tongues met, Birch dropped his hand and grasped Flint's cock through his breeches. North saw the sergeant's hand grab the huge bulge between the trooper's thighs. When they broke apart, Flint whispered, "Good night lad," and kissed Birch on the top of his cropped head before turning away to his bedroll. North watched with amusement as the two muscular men then tried to hide their erect cocks as they stripped off their boots and breeches.

                                                     Chapter 4

     A brisk ride next morning, through hilly wooded country, brought them to a small cluster of seemingly deserted farm buildings.The commander halted the colmn and rode back to the rear as the men dismounted to piss and stretch their legs. Flint saw that, like him, most of the boers were more than half hard, though he guessed that none of their balls were aching like his. He recalled the feeling of Birch's fingers on his cock and began to harden even more. Swearing under his breath, he turned in his saddle and looked back. The commander with Kotze and his men behind him was riding up the column. When he drew level with him the commander said in English, "Sergeant, will you and your men please fall out." When the soldiers, with affected expressions of puzzlement, had complied, he continued "We part company here sergeant. Mr Kotze. here, has been instructed to convey you to a suitable place of detention." He gave a curt nod and rode off to the front of the column. A moment later the commandos rode away down the track in the woods and were quickly lost from sight.

    "Right we will be heading south over the veldt," Kotze shouted in very heavily accented English.
"You pretty boy," he continued, nodding at Birch, "will ride with me. You other two bastards will ride behind us and if anyone falls out of line, I'll have the skin  off your backs with this." He raised his right hand to show them a heavy sjambok. The soldiers eyed the dreaded boer rhino whip warily and Kotze sneered, "I can see that you understand me very well. Let's move."

     The afternoon was hot and oppressive and they rode at a slow pace over the rolling veldt. Riding behind Kotze, Flint was made very aware of the man's size. Birch, a big man, was almost dwarfed beside him. Everyone was tense and silent and unease lay like a heavy stone in Flint's belly. After about an hour they pulled up and the man who had called for  a halt dismounted and swaggered forward to stand beside Birch's horse. Looking up at the trooper, he slowly unbuttoned his fly and pulled out his erect cock. A good thick eight inches, North guessed as he watched the man ease out his impressive balls. "What do you think of this eh, pretty boy?" he smirked. "That's enough you goat, piss or put it away," Kotze roared. "But Kotze, you said.."
"Do as I say," Kotze yelled, reaching for his sjambok. With difficulty, the man got his stiff cock back into his trousers and remounted. North looked aside at Flint. The big sergeant was seething with rage. "Calm down Sarge, they are goading us."
"If that filthy dutch pervert lays a finger on Birch I'll..."
"You won't be able to do anything. So the less they see you care the better."
"Its going to be hard but I know your right corporal." It will be much harder, North thought, if you play into their hands. Kotze swung round in his saddle, "Keep your mouths shut, scum," he snarled.
Biting back a retort, Flint clamped his mouth shut. "Right, let's move," bawled Kotze and as he
started forward again there was a chorus of oaths from the men at the back. Kotze, sure of his authority did not look back, but North did. Sure they were following at the moment but they were rough hard men , he thought and would not let one tough man with a whip keep them from what they wanted indefinitely. He looked at the man who'd shown his impressive manhood. He saw the stubbled square jaw, broken nose and dark brows knitted in a fierce scowl above the slitted eyes and felt a stab of excitement as he pulled himself around again in his saddle. On and on they plodded in the hot sun.

     It was two hours later before the first voice piped up from the back. "Hey Kotze my friend. When are we going to get a piece of that young khaki's arse you promised us?"
"Ja," joined in another voice, "my fucking balls are aching like hell." More voices joined in and Kotze threw up his arm to halt the group again but this time he rode back to confront the men. "Thank you for your patience, my friends, I had planned that we take a break down yonder." He pointed ahead to a stand of mature trees and shrubs. "It has shade and fresh water for us to refresh ourselves after our forthcoming display of Boer virility." The was a burst of ribald laughter and Flint
turned to North, "Is that what I think it is corporal?" As he spoke Birch turned nervously in his saddle. "Yes it is I'm afraid," North said, "you are going to get fucked Charlie." Birch gasped and his face went ashen, Flint's eyes blazed, "The filthy swines, what can we do?"
"Nothing," the corporal replied,..except.."
"Except what?" Flint hissed. North sighed, then said, "For all I know, they'll rape us all. They certainly look capable of it. It won't kill us but it can hurt like hell and do a lot of damage, particularly if you don't know how to take it."
"Take it, what the hell are you talking about?" snapped Flint. "What I say Sarge, take it. Relax your muscles and don't tense, even if it hurts."
"My God, North, you mean cooperate while they sodomize you..never."
"That's your choice Sarge, but Charlie I want you to try. Promise me you will." Birch nodded and
dropped his blond head as the smirking Kotze rode back, openly kneading his cock through his trousers.

* There is more about the sexy Van Riebeeck in the story 'The Scout.'
   

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wooden bridge to a camp that had been set up for them by the river's edge. The prisoners were ordered  to dismount and were marched to the quartermaster's tent where Jeppe untied their wrists. "Get your bedrolls and canteens, then I'll take you over to the paddock so you can see to your horses,"
he snapped Whereas before, Jeppe had tried to make his voice sound tough and assertive, now the gruffness ansd agression were real. The next fellow who bends over for this young man was in for a treat, North thought. The lucky bastard!

     As they fed, watered and groomed their horses, Jeppe stood, legs wide apart, his rifle held at the ready. He was clearly aroused, North noted. Occasionally he turned to stare openly at the boer's bulging groin and hoped that despite his sore arse, he'd be that lucky bastard. But he realized that this was not to be when they marched back to their tent. He almost groaned with disappointment when he saw that their tent had been pitched no more than ten feet from a large canvas affair with an awning, under which a trestle table and chairs had been set up. The commander sat at the table and beckoned them as they approached. When they stood before him, he said "When the good burghers find out that we have some khaki prisoners they might well be tempted to call for a lynching. Its therefore prudent to have you close to me, where you can be well guarded."
"Thank you sir," Flint replied, and North wondered if he too was disappointed at not being able to have an hour or two alone with his trooper.

     After having had an excellent evening meal, the food having been provided by the townsfolk, the soldiers sat in front of their tent watching the sun drop over the horizon. Jeppe had gone, along with most the men, to the dorp's busy tavern and they were guarded by a wiry weasel-faced boer who could or would not, speak English. Suddenly they heard the sound of appoaching horses and moments later two men in travel-stained jerkins and breeches strode through the well-lit camp towards the commander's tent. When they finally stood before the trestle table, one of the scouts reached into his shoulder satchel and produced a sheet of paper which he handed to the seated commander. He studied it for a moment, then looked up, "Very well gentlemen, what news do you have for me?" The scount turned and pointed at the soldiers. "Don't worry about them, they can't understand Afrikaans," the commander said. North hid his growing excitement, they still had'nt discovered that he spoke Afrikaans fluently. The scout shrugged and said,  "Very well. Kotze must be present before I go on." The commander nodded, "You'll find him camped along by the bridge." The
scout turned to his companion,  Would you be kind enough to fetch him Reitz?"
"Certainly Pete," he replied and strode off along the river. *

     North studied the sturdy bearded scout, called Pete, standing before the trestle table. He was a big man North and admired the masculine curves of his muscular arse as he bent forward to accept a light for the cheroot that the commander had offered him. He exhaled a stream of smoke, before turning slightly and resting his hand in the table, thereby affording North a fine view of his lamp-lit groin. North smiled to himself and felt his cock stir. No drawers there you cheeky bastard, he thought, as he appraised the cock and what looked to be a fine set of balls. Then he heard Flint swear under his breath he swung his head round to see the other scout returning with the big bald headed Kotze and
his four men.

     When all the men had arranged themselves in front of the table, Pete began, "You have been ordered to take your men east tomorrow to Lydenburg sir, to join forces with Kock and Steyn. A major engagement is imminent." The commander nodded, and the scout continued, "Kotze, you and your men will go with the commander as far as Nebo. Then you will strike south to dynamite the railway bridge over the Devil's Falls Canyon." Pete the scout waited for the outburst of laughter and the back-slapping among Kutze's men to subside before he went on, You will pick up an explosive expert, who will be waiting for you at Drusdorp. Do you know it?"
"Ja, it used to be a dorp , but it was abandoned years ago. Now its a ruin about three miles from the railway bridge, "Kotze replied in his deep rasping voice. "Exactly," replied the scout, then continued
"The expert will destroy the bridge and intercept any messages on the telegraph line before he cuts it.
Then you will return immediately to Lydenburg. Command wanted me to make that quite clear. Is that understood Mr Kotze?"
"Perfectly," Kotze purred and the expression he wore reminded North of a lion that has just made a big kill.

     "That only leaves us with the matter of our prisoners," said the commander. North's body tensed and he masked it by yawning expansively and lying back on the grass. "That you must sort out yourselves," the scout replied  and looked intently at the soldiers for the first time. "I can't take them with me if there's to be fighting," said the commander. "Very well, let's shoot them," replied Kotze
with a cold smile ."You know very well we can't do that," snapped the commander. "So what do you
propose we do with them?" purred Kotze. The scout, having satisfied himself that the prisoners were not following, turned his attention back to the discussion and replied, "Obviously we can't take them with us without orders."
"Very well you will have to take them with you Kotze," the commander sighed.  "Why, that will be a pleasure sir," Kotze replied. Choosing to ignore the sarcasm  dripping from the big man's mouth the commander added, "They are prisoners of war and must come to no harm. I'm holding you personally
responsible, is that understood Kotze?"
"Of course sir," came the reply and the purr in Kotze's voice made a worm of unease twist in North's
belly. With studied nonchalance he sat up and looked at the men gathered around the trestle table.