Out of Uniform Ch. 05

Self Shot

I gained the bridge, checked in with the duty officer and was leaving when an acrid smell permeated the bridge followed but a loud grinding noise. Apparently the jerry-rig had not lasted a full day.

I spun on my heel and made my way quickly to Engineering. Along the way I was asked numerous times what had happened. “You’ll know when I know,” was my curt response.

Engineering was in crisis mode. Hemperer was ranting at all and sundry; his crew were assessing the damage. My presence seemed to embarrass everyone as if I was going to blame them individually for the part failure.

Within a few minutes I was back on the bridge making the announcement everyone dreaded. “The air conditioning unit has given up the ghost so we are back to the casual dress code for what is likely to be the remainder of the voyage. I want to thank the Engineering crew for all their hard work and effort to resolve this problem. I have been assured the smell will dissipate shortly and poses no issue. Carry on.”

While my titillation factor increased, my frustration level sky-rocketed, this is not the sort of thing I wanted to have to report to headquarters – again. I repaired to my day cabin to begin the paperwork.

It was late when I retired to the night cabin and I was exhausted. Eager young Andrew was ready with his supply of ice and was disappointed when I begged off any sexual activity. Shortly after his departure, I had to disappoint Lieutenant Withers for the same reason. Sleep did not come readily this night.

The following morning, I awoke groggy and bleary-eyed. Such was my mood that I didn’t even want to go for a ‘Captain’s prowl’ to see the bodies of my crew. I sent my yeoman to bring breakfast to the bridge where I read through the reports and communiqués from overnight.

Yeoman Steiner increased my frustration by, once again, getting a simple order for breakfast wrong. I had had enough with him, pulling him aside, I asked “Steiner, you don’t want to be Captain’s Yeoman, do you?” He had the decency to look embarrassed at being called out. He shook his head. “Fine, I will have you reassigned back to weapons control, asap. Dismissed.” He left with a spring in his step. In all fairness, he had not asked to be assigned as yeoman, his heart was always in weapons control. But now I was without a yeoman.

The yeoman’s duties were not onerous; filing, prioritizing my tasks, keeping my cabins in good order, being at my beck and call twenty-four/seven. I was not a captain who watched over every thing my yeoman did. I assigned tasks and assumed they were done correctly; unfortunately, Steiner needed more attention than I wanted to have to give.

But now I was without a yeoman.

Other concerns took precedence and it was not until late in the afternoon I had to deal with the yeoman problem. But the solution presented itself to me serendipitously.

I was dropping by my night cabin ısparta escort to freshen up before supper when Petty Officer Rowlands appeared book in hand. “Would now be a convenient time to ‘lend you my book’, sir?” He managed to imply the quotation marks.

“No, I’m afraid not, Rowlands.” He looked downcast. Then a brain wave, “But, let’s have a quick chat, okay?”

In my cabin, I motioned for him to sit. “Rowlands, you are a quartermaster, correct?” He nodded. “So, you have fairly good organizational skills, I assume.” He nodded. “Have you ever thought of applying those organizational skills elsewhere on ship?” He looked puzzled. “I am in need of a Captain’s Yeoman. Not a glamorous job. Basically, involves keeping me on track, keeping the office organized, keeping the cabins in order, being a gofer. You do get a little cabin next door here so you get some more privacy. Would you be interested in a trial run at the job?”

He jumped up, and being so tall, banged his head on the ceiling, “Yes, I would, sir. Thank you for the opportunity, sir.” He stood rubbing his head and beaming at me.

“Okay then, meet me in my day cabin at 0630 and we will go from there.”

So now I had a yeoman. A sexy yeoman with whom I have had sex and who is apparently eager to do that again. ‘What have I done?’ I asked myself.

I let Steiner know his transfer would be effective tomorrow; I advised the necessary officers about the change over supper in the wardroom.

At 0620, Rowlands was outside the hatch to the day cabin. He was obviously enthused about the assignment and it was hard keeping him in the chair while we went over the job description and duties list.

I told him to arrange the change of sleeping arrangements with Steiner and the transfer of their belongings. I also told Rowlands to chat with Steiner about tasks currently underway and about the realities of dealing with me and my idiosyncrasies.

On my way to the wardroom I encountered Chief Warrant Officer Jennings, looking a little down in the mouth. I recalled my hasty promise to him regarding helping him deal with his anger issues. “Jennings, come to my night cabin around 1930.”

After supper and a patrol of the ship, I returned to my night cabin and found Spike ensconced in the yeoman’s cabin next door.

“Anything you need, Captain?”

“No, thank you, Petty Officer, but there is something I would like to discuss with you.” I motioned him to sit; he chose the bunk. “Spike, when we… well, when we had sex yesterday, I got the distinct impression you like to get fucked. Am I right?”

“Yes, sir, you bet, sir.”

“Good, okay, I want to make sure you know that sex is not one of your required duties as yeoman.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good, but I am going to ask you to undertake an extra duty for me. A duty you can refuse. Understood?”

“Yes, sir, but, sir, kars escort anything you ask I will do.”

“Well, this is not you and me having sex,” he looked disappointed, “but you and a senior member of the crew having sex.” He brightened. “This senior member is having some issues I said I would help him with but I believe you are better suited to assisting him than I.”

“Sir?”

“Spike, I got the impression you would not be adverse to having, well, rough sex.”

“Rough sex, sir? Not at all, sir.”

“And, role playing? Such as a rape fantasy?”

“Rape fantasy? That sounds kinda hot, sir.”

“You’d be the one being raped, you understand?”

“Oh, yes, sir. Like I said sounds hot.”

I glanced at my watch. “Strip, Spike.”

“Yes, sir,” he said with alacrity. He popped off the bunk and shed his clothing quickly, piling them neatly on the chair. When he had only his white briefs and white socks I stopped him.

The white cotton looked great against his hairy legs and belly. “Leave those on. I like seeing you dressed like that.” Spike smiled and posed a bit for me, grabbing at his crotch, playing with his cock and balls. “Perfect,” I said. I rose and replaced his groping hand with mine. I leaned in to nibble on his nipples.

At 1930 exactly, a knock on the hatch, broke into our interlude. I admitted Jennings whose eyes nearly popped when he saw Rowlands.

“Rambo, meet Spike. I have asked Spike to take on the role of your friend in port.” Jennings looked perturbed. “He doesn’t know the details of the whys and wherefores. He just knows you need to fulfill a fantasy. He knows it is a rape fantasy and that things might get rough.” Turning to Spike, “You understand that and agree to that, Spike?”

Spike looked directly at Jennings, “Yes, sir, I do understand and I will do whatever the Warrant Officer needs me to do, sir.” Jennings visibly relaxed.

“I understand that in situations like this it is customary for the partners to have a safe word. A word that when said stops what is happening immediately. What word will that be, Spike?”

He thought for a moment, then said, “Hippo.”

“Understood, Rambo?” Jennings nodded.

“Okay, go for it, Rambo.” I ordered.

“Here? Now?” he queried. “In front of you, sir?”

“Damn, right. I arranged this and I want to watch. I want to watch two studs going at it. Any objections, Spike?”

“No, sir, sir!”

Rambo hesitated for a short time then advanced on Spike. He pushed Spike onto the bunk and lifted those long hairy legs. Grabbing Spike’s underwear near where his asshole would be, Rambo ripped the fabric exposing the prize. He fumbled with his flies releasing his cock with its big mushroom head. Spike’s eyes widened.

Rambo was in stride now and he positioned his cock on Spike’s puckered little hole and rammed it in. All the way to the balls. Spike groaned and kastamonu escort struggled. Tears welled in his eyes.

I rose to intervene but Spike shook his head slightly. He was really into this.

Rambo’s fucking pace was earnest, energetic and forceful. As he had with me, he began to verbally berate Spike. “You whore… You fucking cheap slut… Take it, take it all… Fuck you, you bitch, fuck you… Raping you like you deserve, bitch…”

Spike played his role to the hilt, hitting back at Rambo, crying for it to stop and struggling against the assault.

On impulse I took hold of a long flexible metal ruler from my desk. Moving behind Rambo, I swung and made contact with his pants-covered ass. He grunted.

Spike asked, “What did you do?” I told him. “Do it some more, his cock got harder when you hit him.”

I repeated my action. This time Rambo grunted, “Harder. …Harder!” So I hit him harder.

I then moved in to loosen Rambo’s belt and yank his pants to the floor and walloped his bare ass. After several swats, I dropped my own pants to the floor and positioned myself behind Jennings. I ran my cock head along his ass crack until I found his hole. I pushed forward with all my might.

“Jesus H. Christ. Fucking mother of god.” Rambo bellowed. I had to clamp my hand over his mouth to muffle the sound not wanting someone to burst in.

“He’s cumming in my ass,” Spike announced. I could feel the tightening of Jennings’s sphincter around my cock. The sensation caused me to blast his bowels with my cum.

I started to withdraw but Rambo grabbed at me to hold me in place. “Hit me. Hit me some more, sir,” he whispered.

Somewhat awkwardly I swung the ruler at his ass trying hard to not hit myself. With each strike my cock was clutched and squeezed. Rambo leaned over and bit Spike’s nipple causing the latter to squeal with delight.

I used my free hand to take hold of Rambo’s nipple and twist and tug on it. His sphincter let me know he was enjoying it.

I am not sure how long we continued in this vane but eventually I felt physically and emotionally drained. I pulled my softened cock from the warm tight ass it had invaded and plopped down on my chair.

Rambo and Spike remained coupled, Rambo making slight thrusting motions every few seconds. He fell forward onto Spike doubling poor Spike in half, his knees next to his ears.

Spike finally pushed the older man off him so he could stretch out his cramped muscles. “Feel better, Rambo?”

Rambo stirred enough to look Spike in the eyes, “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

Spike laughed at his concern, leaned in and kissed him, “Yes, you hurt me. And it felt great! I am definitely looking forward to being used by you again.” He looked at me, “And being the Captain’s Yeoman is going to be a great job, sir. More assignments like this would be great.”

We slowly regained our breath and our composure. Rambo and Spike made arrangements for future encounters using Spike’s little cabin next door. Or using my cabin when I could be involved.

One thing was apparent, my ass would not be getting as much use by Jennings as I feared originally.

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