 |
By *rgeo OP Man
3 hours ago
WOLVERHAMPTON |
Chapter Five: Room Five
That morning I got to know a little more about the other three men: Andy, Eddie and Rhym. With Jack and Marko, there were now six of us sitting in a circle on comfortable sofas and easy chairs. Room 5 was furnished simply but elegantly. The walls were a pale cream colour and there were wooden beams across the high ceiling. It felt like a room belonging to a completely different building. Windows with frosted glass, lit from behind with soft, warm daylight bulbs lent the impression that we were no longer underground. Side tables with large Chinese style lamps were placed within reach of each chair. There were two empty seats, and I happened to be sitting with the empty seats on either side of me. Marcus was sitting across from me, Jack and Andy on my left, Eddie and Rhym on my right. Rhym was the short, red-headed lad who had been singled out for a joke from the manager on Wednesday.
“Right,” said Marko, starting us off. “This is the last day of the first stage of the programme. It has been intensely physical, as you all know, and as you all expected it to be. The physicality continues throughout the remaining weeks of training. We encourage as much of it as you can muster. From now on, you must feel free to touch one another whenever you wish, to hold hands, stroke arms and legs, kiss one another, even fondle a crotch or two. All physical signs of affection are strongly encouraged. But only do it when you feel like it and not because you think you have to do it. And, please, wait for some encouragement from the other guy before you go too far into it. If you want to fondle another guy’s dick, for example, get at least some implied permission first. Make eye contact, follow your instinct from the non-verbal responses you get. Above all, feel comfortable here, like it is your own home. When things go wrong there are enough of us around to put it right.”
Marko looked at me. “Tiger, would you like to begin the session this morning? You’ve observed most of what has taken place this week. Do you have any questions or observations you want to make?”
I thanked Marko and accepted his invitation. Everyone was silently waiting for me to start and I paused for quite a while until I spoke. I took the time to look at them all in turn, neither smiling nor frowning, not quite sure what expression I was displaying. Curiosity maybe. Nervousness. I could feel my heart beating a little faster than usual.
I jumped straight in and began to tell them the story of my adventures the previous night. It had nothing to do with the programme and everything to do with it. It all came out and I had no qualms revealing my sorry part in it, how my penis had once more taken me to a dangerous place.
To avoid being assaulted I had played the same game as the cop. First, I gave him more power than he wanted; and, second, I took all his power away. It had been a risky strategy but it had worked for me at that moment.
“You faggots are sick,” he’d said. “You get a man worked up and then get scared of it. You ain’t into men at all. I swear you miss women more than we do.”
I had wriggled my body and awkwardly turned around to face him as best I could. I told him that if he wanted to kill me then it was alright, that I was OK with it.
“Why do you think you’re so special, mister? I fuck a different guy whenever I want in this town. Nothing they can do about it. My word against your word.” He paused. The pause was encouraging. It meant he was engaging at least some part of his rational brain. “Even these days a cop’s word always stands.”
But he wasn’t really listening to me. So I told him again that it was OK for him to hurt and kill me.
“Huh?” He looked extremely puzzled. But his brain was working out the meaning of my words, giving his instincts a chance to calm.
Then I asked him to look at my phone, which lay on the shelf next to him. He picked it up.
“So what? A hotline to the chief of police?” he mocked.
I directed him to open the messages section and to read the last one. It was the message I had been looking at when he pulled me over this morning. It came not just from the office of the President but directly from the man himself. It was clearly a very personal message, affectionate and cheeky. There could be no mistake that the President and I were on very intimate terms.
“Fuck off!” he muttered and threw the phone on the carpet.
He lay still on top of me and looked into my eyes. By now I had managed to wriggle right round to face him. My shoulder ached. His look was clear, cold and calculating. He waited. His eyes moved from side to side as he looked at me. My heart was beating wildly, so was his. I waited for a slap, a head butt, a hand around my throat, a punch to the groin, an end to my life.
He smiled at me and said, “Well, I’d better get going. Early shift again tomorrow.” He pushed himself up and got off the bed.
“Thanks for a great evening. Let’s do it again next time you’re in town.” I am quite sure that there was not a trace of irony in his voice. He really meant it.
He dressed slowly, carefully, neatly arranging his clothes as he stood by the window and then checked himself in the mirror on the back of the door. I lay still on the bed, pulling a sheet over me.
“Take care, Tiger!”
He left the room and the door closed behind him. I rose from the bed, picked up a few of my clothes from the floor and tidied them on a chair. I took a shower and made a cup of tea. I sat quietly in the armchair for about fifteen minutes. Finally, at about ten o’clock, I turned out the lights and got into bed.
By the end of my story, Jack was sobbing audibly. Eddie walked over to hand him a tissue. I guessed he was crying not for me but for himself. Jack too was a policeman.
The rest of the session was about looking back over the week. Each man was asked to reveal their highlights, the best and the worst moments. A couple of them had really enjoyed being penetrated the day before, especially Andy. He was the oldest man in this group, just turned thirty. He spoke warmly of the experience, of the sensations it had given him, of what it had opened up to him. We talked about the prostate and the stimulating things that could happen with further experimentation in prostate massage. Marcus suggested that we could allocate some time in the training schedule specifically for this. A lot of what was to come was now about the men themselves setting the agenda.
After the first break of the day, which was a little later than usual, as we had been talking for quite a while without an eye on the time, the men were asked to spend the rest of the day alone together, just the four of them. Today wasn’t about sex but about intimacy, about getting close to one another without having to be frisky about it. Today was about care and concern for one another. It was a chance to confess a few personal secrets together, explore feelings, fears and anxieties. They could sit apart, or hold hands, or cuddle up together - whatever felt right for them. They were going to be the new men leading others in the way forward.
I wouldn’t be seeing them now for quite a while. The next time we would all be together would be when we were led one-by-one, naked, with our hands tied behind our backs, through the sixth door, the door with no number above it. But that was a few weeks away yet.
|
