WHERE DO I GO FROM HERE?
Okay, so the situation i’m in is pretty much my fault. Well, i shouldn’t say my fault, but i’m responsible for where i’m at. Mostly. I had a couple “pushes” from a friend of mine.
A good friend, and maybe he was responsible for more than a few pushes to help get me where i am today.
Now, where do i start? Me? My name’s miller. I’m a former marine (okay, once a marine, always a marine.. unless you’re a scumbag and dishonorably discharged) but i’m no longer active duty. A boy that came straight off the farm from upstate new york. You can say i led a pretty sheltered life. I’m 6′4″ blue eyes and medium brown hair that i had worn a high n’ tight horseshoe for my years in the corps. Sorry to break it to ya, but i’m not drop-dead handsome. I’m just an ordinary looking guy. Shortly after finishing my boot camp at P.I. (hellya, i ain’t one of them hollywood marines) i got the mandatory eagle, globe and fouled anchor tats on my left forearm. Couple guys that i went through bootcamp with got the bulldog with USMC either on the dogs collar or somewhere around ‘chesty’. Then i was a REAL marine, not some crank-yanking recruit or wanna-be. (i got out as a staff sergent if you’re really taking notes and all that curious). Yeah, my time in service i found out a lot about the ways of the world. Me and a couple of my men used to go out and whore around in various ports around the globe. I could tell you stories of the moma-sans in Oki and the best spot for cheap, reasonably clean hookers in most the other places around the pacific. Then things started to change about 1 ½ years before i decided to get out of the corps. We were out on a float and had pulled into the Phillipines. My unit was picking up 3 newbies. Two of them were fresh from training. The third, a corporal, this was to be his first deployment. Trust me when i say it’s normally a pain in the ass when you get new guys in. They’re all gung-ho and shit, but they’re dumb as fuckin’ rocks and you have to start from ground zero and teach them the real ways of the corps. The two privates (one was a pfc, graduated top of his class from bootcamp) i passed off to my sergent to play nursemaid. The corporal was gonna be my go-to man, or at least that was the hole he was going to fill due to lance corporal Dunning’s time being up and he was returning to the world of civilians after his time was up. I’d miss the runs in boots and ut’s with Dunning. There had been many a night out and getting back just in time to join our platoon for morning run. I don’t even want to discuss the number of times either Dunning or i had to drop to the side to relieve ourselves of excess alcohol and then catch up with the rest of the guys. But we were both shit-hot and the gunny rarely did more than shake his head as he heard us puke our guts out.
Weis was the new corporal that had the privilege of joining my outstanding group of men. He had a look about him that told me he wasn’t scared and would settle in nicely with the other men. The two others were wide-eyed and scared as shit. They were like puppy dogs trying to please and prove themselves. Yup. They were gonna be a pain to get broke in right and i knew then that i had made the right decision in passing both them turds off to Sgt. DeVies. Now i have to give you and idea of what Weis looks like. If he stood 5′6″ I’d be surprised. But he had an infectious smile, a sense of humor that i appreciated and a certain self-assuredness about him that made me take an immediate liking to him. Weis was white, with a cropped head of blond hair. He had some tats too. But not all of them were fresh. In fact some scars marked certain parts of his flesh where he’d had some removed (as i found out later when we were knocking back more than a couple cold ones). Come to find out, he’d had some ink that wasn’t..... politically correct and the marine corps said if he wanted to join, they had to come off. So this little light green marine had ink back when he was in his early teens.
I used to smoke marlboro reds, but gave them up my 3rd year in. When you’re a ground pounder smoking isn’t the wisest choice, though plenty of my men did anyway. I found other ways of dealing with my stress. Weis dipped. Copenhagen snuff was his tobacco of choice. I never could understand using moist tobacco. Just me i guess. Sure didn’t foul the air of others, but just didn’t strike me as anything i’d care to do. Gross and disgusting are words that came to mind when i saw Weis dip.
About two months after the new guys joined us, it was time to return to the USA. Home sweet home. In the time from Weis coming on board, we had become pretty good mates.
No, he didn’t go out whoring with me and (now) one other guy (miss ya Dunning!) but we had a great working relationship and we worked well together. He never bitched when i had to pull long hours working on the projects that the major had given to the gunny and it rolled downhill to me and he knew that i expected him to be there, right beside me. He’d just talk quietly to me practically the whole damned night. Sometimes i wish he’d just shut up, but he was there with me, knocking out the work, so who was i to bitch too hard? Besides, like i said, i missed about 90% of what he said anyway. When he take a long pause, i knew he’d asked me something and was waiting for a response. I’d grunt or same something really vague and off he’d go, rambling on, again
Thank god my divorce was final and there were no kids involved. The ex? To say she hated military life would be an understatement of profound proportions. Me on the otherhand had NO difficulty when it came down to her ultimatum. “it’s either me or the marine corps...” “ta ta, and don’t let the door hit ya in the ass!” was my response to her! Good riddance!
“Have you thought about living out in town rather than in the barracks?” Weis inquired.
“yeah, it would have advantages, but the price is right living in the barracks and this way i can put more money away for my college degree” was the response i gave him the first time he asked. The barracks were priced right, but there were many drawbacks. What you could have in your room... Who you could have in your room. What you could put on the walls. The more Weis asked, the more reasons i could come up with on why i was ready to move out in town and get a place. Was it the ideas he’d just casually mention during our late nights of work? By the time we hit stateside, i couldn’t wait to find a nice inexpensive place to call home that was outside the gates of the base.
Weis was naturally going to come along, as i could tell that barracks life wouldn’t suit him and hell, we got along, so i really didn’t see a downside. Until i started looking at the prices they wanted for rent. Him being a corporal, i knew what he made. Beside, corporals weren’t supposed to live out in town. If i wanted a place anywhere close where it wouldn’t take us 45 minutes to get to work, two bedroom apartments were outrageous. I did find a big one bedroom and knew that with a sleeper sofa and the bedroom, Weis and i could make this work. I was all excited when after signing the papers, i gathered up Weis and went to show him the place. It wasn’t in the best area, but i didn’t feel like going out whoring that much. Weis assured me that he was pretty much a home-body now that he was away from all his mates he hung with before coming into the corps.
“Come take a look at what i’ve got set up on this thing” Weis chirped.
As i approached, he was all smiles. On the screen of the computer i had bought at the PX was a bunch of flashing pictures. All sorts of different photos.
“Why have ya got them going so fast? I can barely appreciate them before they change” i complained.
“You are such a fart” he moaned in mock disgust. “Just park it here and check it out. If they went faster you wouldn’t really see ‘em” he explained. “Any slower and it would be just another slow-ass bad slideshow.”
So to amuse him i did park in front of the screen and watched with appreciation what he had put together. In a matter of just a couple weekends, in his spare time he had assembled pictures of all varities. Some military, some females in various states of un-dress. Others were of americana. On occasion i’d see a flash of some written words, but i never caught exactly what they said. After my duty night, i couldn’t wait to get home to Weis. I can’t even begin to express the bond that had developed between us. We were a well oiled machine. At work we seriously kicked ass. The gunny soon found himself having flashbacks to how smooth his guys worked when it was me and dunning keeping the neanderthals in line. Me and Weis made the gunny’s life easy. (and trust me, that made our lives easier). He’d get in there and tinker with the photos, as he found more and different shots he found interesting. I can’t tell you the number of times he wanted me to check it out and figure out the changes he’d made since the last time he had me park and view.
“My turn for duty” the note said, “Go to the ACDSee program and check out what i worked up for ya!” Weis had scratched on a post-it, planted squarely in the middle of the display. “You are such a computer geek” i mumbled to myself, thinking of that little hunk. So after i got cleaned up and chowed i went to the computer. There wasn’t shit on the tube tonight anyways. Now i know how to turn the damn thing on, and can semi-navigate my way around, but i was certainly not in Weis’ league. After slowly hunting around, i found what i thought was the folder that Weis wanted me to view. Before starting it, i instinctively grabbed the set of headphones that i had bought Weis after then people living on the other side of the paper-thin walls complained of the “noise” coming from our place. Weis dead-panned “they just don’t know good music when they hear it!”
You should see the production that he’d put togther. He had music tied into the program. First, it started with the really tinny, garage sounding band, then a light show started on the screen. Shortly thereafter photos started coming up. But he had synchronized the whole thing to the music that was playing. I’m serious, you should have seen this thing! Musta taken him days to put this together, though i knew in the back of my head that he had just kept refining that initial slideshow he’d shown me those weeks ago. But had he ever dressed this thing up. The music, that border that sometimes swirled around the pictures, other times it took over the whole screen. Then it would go away and all i could see was the rapidly passing pictures.
The music. I have to tell ya that i wasn’t all that crazy about the music he’d mixed his little display to. Nothing that i had heard before, and nothing close to what i was used to listening to. I guess he called it Oi! But i have to admit, it does grow on ya. Just like Weis said it would. Seems there were still something flashing up on the screen other than the pictures and the swirling background, but i’d be fucked if i could figure out what it said. After about the 3rd or maybe it was the 4th hour of watching his little show that night, i really didn’t care to try and figure out what else was there other than what i could see. Fuck it! It was kick-ass cool and fun to watch and that’s all that really counts, ain’t it? (here’s a hint, don’t disagree or i’ll have to stomp your little peckerwood head into the fuckin’ ground!)
“Hey, sarge! There’s a cool program i found online. But they want like 20 bucks for it...” Weis trailed off. I knew exactly where this was going and it was just easier to authorize it now than have him piss and moan until i gave in... he and i knew eventually i would. I have to say this in honest terms, though not necessarily the most flattering... Weis giggled like a school girl after he got it downloaded (he had long since known all my pin numbers and credit card numbers, but he never abused them or used them without permission.) “Can i see what you’re wasting my hard earned money on now?” i growled, but belied myself with the smirk i was wearing on my face.
“Aaaah, not yet sarge” he teased. “Not till i’m all set up to go with it...”
I knew more than to argue or try to rush him. When it was ready for me, it’d be ready. It was maybe 45 minutes later that i heard him plead for me to come see, come see! As i rounded the corner, Weis was spinning the chair to the side so he could rise and i could park in the pre-heated seat. He was putting in a fresh lipper of his copenhagen as he leaned over by my side to watch me give approval to his newest creation. He grabbed his spit cup and moved it out of my way. I had once knocked it over and it was a bloody mess to clean up.
“While i’m parked here, mind if i bum a dip from ya?” i asked without any real thought to what i had just asked. “Sure mate, i’ll grab ya a cup” was his reply with his ever-present easy-going grin on his face. I didn’t have that SNAP-SNAP thing down, to pack the cope, but i tried to match his technique that i had seen him do so many times before. I twisted off the lid and took a good size, three finger pinch and placed it in my mouth the way i had studied Weis place his. As i was brushing off all the spilled bits of copenhagen from my cammies Weis passed me one of the dozen or so fast food plastic cups that lined our kitchen shelves where glasses in a normal house would reside. “Let’s get this thing fired up!” i shouted as the music in the headsets had begun already and not realizing that i was yelling and that his little treat had already begun running. (when did he start that? When he was passing me my spit cup?)
If you’ve never dipped before let me just tell you this, as Weis so succinctly put it...
“that stuff is kickin’ your ass, mate!”
And it was. But it felt soooo cool, the sounds, the shit going on on the screen, the dip making my head spin. I was so fucking lightheaded i can even begin to shout how i felt. I was buzzed and i rarely had felt more alive! DAMN!!! check this shit out! I was seriously moshing to this whole thing. If the cord on the headphones would have let me, i’d have been up stompin’ the floor! Damn! Damn!
“No. Go buy your own goddamn dip. I tired of you moochin’ off me, you bogarting son-of-a-bitch” was Weis’ response when i tried to bum another tin from him. I had probably bummed pretty close to a whole roll of ten cans from him. So i had developed me a little habit. I wasn’t fuckin’ up anybody else’s air, and there was nothing like a fresh lipper first thing in the morning. Or after a good meal that Weis had cooked up for me and that ‘homemade brew’ that was ever present... or just before settling in in front of the screen to see what my little man had come up with for me this time. Or before we hit the sack. But when i gave him that look, half begging, half “i’ll make your life hell at work if you don’t...” Weis gave in and passed me his can. There was maybe 1/3 of a can left. Just about right for me to pack one nice lipper to take me through the night. He was pissed that i emptied the can, but he didn’t say a word. There was another can or two in the fridge. I’d stop by the PX and restock for us tomorrow.
“Maybe we can save some bucks by getting a pair of clippers and doing our own” Weis suggested that friday morning before we headed in. I promised i would think about it. Every monday there were inspections. Too bad, so sad if you didn’t get a haircut saturday or sunday. Because you WOULD fail inspection. Then the gunny would be all over ya. Never a good thing. So at noontime, while i was over at the px to grab a couple rolls of cope for us, i checked and they had a couple sets of clippers there too. There was two sets of really cheesey ones and then one set that looked pretty decent. On base, cuts cost $4.oo. Out in town they went for 5 to 7 bucks. Then you had to tip, of course. Me, with my hnt horseshoe, i had found a couple barbers that did decent horseshoes. There was one guy, a big guy that did an awesome job. In the same shop there was a gal, that was my second choice if the big guy wasn’t available, or his line was too long. So for me, it was a tenner a week for the cut and tip. Keep the barber happy, and i get to walk around for a whole seven days looking sharp with my hnt horseshoe.
I did the math in my head. Figured it would take just over 2 months to pay for the clippers if Weis and i did our own. Hell, even if he couldn’t master my sharp horseshoe, i could do his. He always wore his cropped cut, harkening back to his skinhead days prior to joining the marines. I didn’t understand that whole skinhead thing anyway. Skinheads were city boys with too much energy left at the end of the day. Farm boys, if we had too much piss and vinager at the end of the day, our Pa’s would be sure to work us harder until we weren’t looking for anything after the day but i hot bath and the bed. What the hell, along with the rolls of cope, i had the lady behind the counter grab the decent set. I paid up and was on my way back over to our shop to finish out the work week. Neither of us was pulling weekend duty so i’d get to spend quality time with just him and me. I was dying to see what he had worked up for me to watch this time. It’s hard to explain, but i was really excited about the prospect of seeing what Weis had come up with.
Friday afternoon came and soon it was knock-off until tuesday. This was a long weekend and we’d have it just to ourselves. We loaded ourselves up in my pov (privately owned vehicle) and off we went to our humble abode. “Hey, you mind if i get into your program before we eat?” i asked Weis. “Just hold your sorry ass off until after we eat sarge, then i promise i’ve got something extra special for ya, okay?” was his response. Not what i wanted to hear, but i was willing to live with it.
Dinner was outstanding. He fixed some fresh fish fillets with a sauce, veggies, and some rice pilaf. Washed down with plenty of his special concoction that he refused to ever disclose the ingredients of. I didn’t care, it was tasty and have developed quite the taste for.
It was about 7:30 when we finished the meal and cleaned up. “Mind if i borrow your car for a bit? You’ll be tied up with the computer tonight anyway...” Weis asked.
“For what?”
“If i wanted you to know, i’d have told you. It’s a surprise, damn it” Weis clipped back at me. Well, my birthday was close at hand, and it was payday, so i figured that maybe i shouldn’t ask too many questions. “sure, here” as i tossed the keys to him.
“Okay mate, tonight i’ve worked up something extra special for you. So you enjoy and i’ll be back before midnight, promise.”
“Now don’t be picking up any strange marines out in town.” i teased.
“Promise” was his reply. Before leaving he placed me in my computer chair, passed me a fresh can of cope, my spit cup, asked me if i needed to piss (i assured him i didn’t) and placed the headset over my ears. I watched as he adjusted the volume to just short of “rupturing eardrums/incur permanent hearing loss” he smiled, we exchanged a quick kiss and he was out of sight by the time i had packed a nice fatty in my lips and sat back for the show i was about to experience.
This was some monster driving shit that he’d worked up. The women were long gone. There were flashes of words. And i could read them. I can’t remember real clear what they said even now, even though everything was like in hyperspeed, i could see each and every photo of all the skins, their docs, their braces, them getting their crops. Guys with these huge-ass lippers. Skins. Them kissing one another, the comeraderie, the love. It was simply the shit! And Weis had the program set up so it just didn’t loop through when it reached the end. There was all these little changes each time with different photos, different words, different nudges. It sucked me in, and not only did i not mind, i was drawn in so i felt part of it. It was so wicked cool. I can’t even tell you in words. It really didn’t bother me to see some of these skins bound, some gagged. Getting fucked, sucking. Guys with shaved heads and bodies with these huge wads of dip in their mouths. Without even being aware, i opened my can and packed another huge amount of cope not only in my lower lip, but i packed my upper lip too. Man, lust washed over me and i didn’t want it to end. There wasn’t anything weird about it, not really. If it wasn’t your cup of tea, well then you didn’t have to watch. But i had never, ever seen some of the things that i was seeing and somehow feeling right now, right this minute. I had only been watching it maybe half an hour i’d guess when the earphones were removed from my head. I turned in my chair and there was Weis. There was a huge grin on his face and a massive piece of gauze on his right arm when he proudly said. “It’s just after midnight and I didn’t turn into a pumpkin” (after midnight? What? Really? What the fuck. Who cares.)
“How’s my little miller man doin, babe?” he asked. Practically cooing.
I was at a loss. I had a hard time putting a sentence together in my head, no less speak the works.
“Look what i got” Weis said and he turned his head towards his bandaged arm. Slowly, carefully he peeled away the surgical tape and gauze to display an awesome tribal piece of ink work. My jaw dropped. It was beautiful and it was perfect on him. Unsteadily i rose out the chair and and hugged him so tight i thought he might not be able to breath. “Easy, boy, easy” he barely spoke. I was squeezing the air out of him. I released him, allowing Weis to catch his breath. “You like?” he asked.
“I LOVE” was the only response i could honestly come back with.
“What you wanna do now?” he asked of me. My brain was still a fog and i had no clear idea of what i really wanted to do. “What would YOU like to do?” i responded
He just gave me that smart-assed grin that he seems to constantly wear and he went up on his toes and pulled me down and planted his tongue firmly in my mouth. I was hoping i knew what was coming next; that he’d drag me into the bedroom and have his way with me. That’s really what i wanted. I think he knew it too. But i wasn’t ready just yet. That’s what he told me anyhow.
He ordered me to the bathroom. Where i was told to take out all my dip (not my dip!) and shit, shower and shave. While i was in the bathroom, he was out on the computer. I could hear him humming as i was drying myself. When i was all through i told him i was set. “Did you brush your teeth, little man?” I turned quickly, grabbed the brush and ran water over it and squished some paste on the bristles. This time when i was through, i called to Weis and let him know i was ready for whatever was next. He came in and took my hand and gently led me to the bed. This was it. Something that i had never done before, something that i had never thought of doing before, something i never thought was in me, was about to happen. He guided me to the bed, wordlessly directing me on my back. He made sure the pillow was placed to give my head good support and turned out the bedroom light. Now only the light filtering in from the livingroom lamp made its way to our bed. He hadn’t even touched me and i was aroused beyond anything i had ever imagined. But Weis just sat on the edge of the bed and gently caressed my naked body. Saying these words to me so softly that i felt he was making love to me with only them. The touch of his fingers so light that it was easy to drift off while the whole time he kept talking gently to me.
“miller...” i heard in the distance. “miller.... mate... time to rise and shine...”
i came to. Expecting to see the sun up and us ready to start our saturday. But the sun was many hours from waking. “Come with me, miller man” was his only words. I followed as he lead me, yet again to the computer screen. “Sit.” he said simply. And i did.
“Pack yourself and get relaxed” Weis spoke gently. With no words uttered, i did as he directed. I opened a can of copenhagen and packed a nice fatty. My stained spit cup at the ready.
“More” was his only directive. So i snapped the can to pack it tight and placed another, even larger wad in my mouth.
“Almost, boy, one more for good measure.”
After the third load, there was over half a can of the lovely necter called copenhagen in my aching lip. I started to become aroused. Not from any touch, simply by having the copenhagen enveloping the inside of my mouth. I glanced up, at Weis. Looking for approval. He smiled and gave me the faintist of nods. He turned the chair towards the screen and then reached for my spit cup and removed it from my reach. “You’re going to have to gut it, my little man. Gut it all.”
With that, he placed the headset back over my ears and activated a brand new program. This one contained none of the images i was used to seeing. Nearly from the moment it started i went into this “zone” that i can’t explain. There were all sorts of directives. All sorts of messages. “SKINSEX IS LOVE” the next would flash “LOVE IS PAIN” followed immediately with “PAIN IS SKINSEX” there were others about becoming a skinhead. What skinheads do, what we look like. How i was becoming more of a skinhead every moment.
I don’t know how to describe it, but i went to sleep while this was repeated in front of my open, staring eyes. The music changing, yet the theme unchanging. My ears and my eyes were bombarded constantly. I was asleep, yet absorbing each and every bit of what was being electronically fed to me. I swallowed my dip juices. My rod got harder. I didn’t touch myself. Somehow i knew i wasn’t supposed to. It was more than okay for me to be what i am, what i am becoming. It wasn’t just okay, it was demanded of me, it was my destiny.
More messages assaulted me. Then hundreds, maybe thousands of different photographs appeared in front of me. They were all entering me. I wanted them to. They were obliging. I continued to swallow my mouth juices as it filled with this heavenly liquid.
I was tingling, yet i was asleep. I know i was, cause when who knows when my Weis came for me the sun nearing it’s noontime position. “You look like shit” Weis said with a grin. I smiled back and plunged my tongue down his throat. He actually took part of my dip out of my mouth with his tongue and made it his.
“Ready for your birthday present?” Weis asked.
I nodded. “Let’s load up and be on our way then!”
He took the keys, i hopped in the shotgun seat and off we drove, destination unknown.
When we pulled into the little parking area i had a feeling i knew what was in store. There were only about 5 businesses that where housed here. An insurance agency, a womens boutique, a couple others and a tattoo shop. We entered and there awaiting was the owner and his son. They weren’t scheduled to open for several more hours. Weis must have arranged this.
“You ready to get started?” the bearded owner asked to Weis. Weis shook his hand and told him we were. There were no words spoken to me, and i instinctively knew what i was to do. I removed my shirt and laid down on his modified dentist’s chair. Weis asked if there would be a problem if i listened to some music on the mp3 player we brought with us. There wasn’t, so the earbuds were placed firmly in my ears and it started playing. But there wasn’t music to start with. I just heard my man’s voice talking to me. Then i heard some of our music playing faintly in the background. As time passed, the music had taken over and was blasting in my ears. But in the background, i could still hear my Weis gently talking to me. I knew that by the time i stumbled out of this place there would be more ink than my devil dog tattoo that adorned my one forearm. It was about 5 hours later when i came to. How many time the mp3 files had repeated, i had no idea. The tattoo artist told me that i had taken just about all the ink that my body would tolerate for one setting. I didn’t care. I didn’t even know what i was now going to wear for the rest of my life. Weis paid up, tipping them both and then guided me out to our car.
As we returned inside our place, Weis was excited in the continueing surprise he had prepared for my birthday. “You wanna see what’s in the boxes first, or see your new ink, mate?”
The ink. I wanted to see the ink first. Weis lead me to the bathroom, as that had the best lighting and biggest mirror in our place. “Strip” was his order. Strip, i did. On both of my pecs, as the gauze was removed, i had traditional bluebirds. Facing one another. Angled slightly downward. They were beauties. As the bandage on my right shoulder was removed i stared at the most amazing celtic knot armband that i seen. It had characters woven into the knots and i was completely in love with it.
“Soon you have a septum, pierced tits and a pa, my little mrmanmiller... my mate” Weis spoke. Not a a threat, more as a promise. “And much more ink....” he left that dangling in the air. I couldn’t wait. They would all look great on me. They’d look great on any skinhead. Our armband tattoos were different, yet i loved the beauty of both of them. Fuck what anyone else thought of them. We were hard-working blue collars, we were damn proud of who we were and if you didn’t like it, tough shit.
I was sure i was going to have to beg Weis for what i wanted to happen next. I wasn’t even sure how to bring up the subject, but i screwed up the courage to ask anyway. " Sir, there’s something i need of you. I stumbled. Would you please give me a proper crop? I know that i’m not deserving, but i have to start from somewhere.” i fumbled even more. Weis just smiled at me and patiently waited. “this flattop really isn’t really me, and i want...no, i need a proper cut like yours... would you please....” i drifted off imploring him to take me down.