Chapter 146: Stephon

Kyle had securely bound Stephon's naked body to the St. Andrews Cross in the far corner of the play area. He had Stephon's head tipped back with a tight grip on his hair. "I'm not in the mood to play around tonight. Will that be a problem?"
"No, Sir."
"Good. Safeword if you need to."
"Yes, Sir."
In all the years Matt had watched his friend take a consensual beating, he'd never heard him safeword. Twice Matt had done it for him and that's why he wanted to be around whenever an unknown worked on his friend.
"You good with this?" Kyle looked at him and nodded toward Stephon.
"No, but I've watched many times. I'll stay out of your way unless I think he's past helping himself." Matt was Stephon's safety net, though he knew his friend didn't see it that way.
"Has that happened before?"
"Yes." He liked Kyle's no-nonsense approach.
"I have no intention of taking it easy on him."
"That's not what he wants."
Kyle stretched his shoulders and then experimentally popped the whip. It was another single tail, but he'd switched to a four footer.
The first stroke hit Stephon across the top of his back and upper shoulder. Matt didn't cringe... yet. While the lashes fell, he tried to think about Jewel, wondering how she'd handle Stephon when he got like this. His need for pain increased with a slow daily build until he submitted to the lash. When the band went drug and alcohol free, Stephon's needs intensified. Some days Matt wished his friend would just drink a six-pack. The whip continued to fall and Stephon started moaning. Matt's focus drifted to the day that changed them both irrevocably.
***

Afghanistan, ten years earlier
Rifle fire cast tuffs of dirt over their dugout. The enemy had kept them held down for hours. For the two dead Marines, friends who would never return home, rescue hadn't come fast enough.
The smell of everyone's unwashed bodies almost overpowered the acrid odor of gun smoke. Showers were a luxury they hadn't had in two weeks. The baby wipes, sent by the crateful when good-meaning people found out how badly the military needed them, had run out a few days before.
Besides the constant deluge of bullets, socks were their next biggest problem; foot-rot was a constant worry in the sweltering heat. Life sucked and then you died. Or as Matt thought to himself, "Come on, you sons of bitches! Do you want to live forever?" It was an old Marine quote and one he couldn't get out of his mind.
Yes, he was a Marine, but he didn't want to die in this hole. All he wanted was his platoon and best friend, Stephon, to make it out alive.
"How you doing, buddy?" Stephon said over the noise of the last volley.
"Hangin' in there. How about you?"
"My fucking feet itch and I'm ready to die."
"Speak for yourself, asshole. We're getting out of here."
"I like your fantasies, fuckwad."
The muted yell came from their right. "Mathews, Cross, incoming, on foot."
Both men peered over the sandbags. It was a man or woman, dressed in a full black burqa, stumbling toward them.
"You men have the shot," their platoon leader yelled.
Stephon grinned. "I've got this, Mathews. Sit back and see how a real man takes out the enemy." His gun tracked the insurgent.
Matt shifted his body a few inches and gave him room. The two stripes worn by Corporal Stephon Cross outranked Matt's one stripe, so he didn't argue.
The stumbling figure heading their way fell, but managed to get up and move forward again. This entire cluster fuck started with a suicide bomber. They weren't letting this one take out their platoon-man or woman.
"See the thickness around the chest?" Matt said to Stephon.
"Got it. He's not getting any closer."
Matt hunkered down and watched his friend's steady pull of the trigger. The loud pop echoed; his earplugs made it sound like a dull thud.
"Chest shot, but no explosion." Stephon lined up his rifle sight.
Matt rolled his eyes. "No shit, Sherlock. Want me to try?" Matt felt a tap on his shoulder and looked behind him at the platoon leader who had crawled over.
"Leave 'em there and hopefully it'll detour anymore crazy motherfuckers."
"You got it, LT."
"Help is coming, hold the line," their leader said before crawling away.
And they did. It was three hours before air support came in and rescued them. The fallen insurgent never blew and they all took a few shots to see if the IED would detonate. It didn't.
Stephon looked at Matt. "Hey, motherfucker, you good for checking it out and making sure we don't have a time bomb on our hands?"
Matt looked at his lieutenant.
"Go ahead you crazy motherfuckers," the LT agreed.
This was all Stephon and Matt needed. The two men ran to the body. Matt glanced around at the still-burning buildings destroyed by aircraft. He wasn't letting his guard down.
"Fuck."
Matt looked at Stephon and then the insurgent. The world went a little darker in the recesses of his brain. It was a woman, shot to shit, clutching her dead infant, only a few months old. He repeated his friend's word, "Fuck."
***

Club El Diablo
So Matt watched Kyle apply the whip with a vengeance, knowing why Stephon needed the punishment. It didn't make it easier, though.
The lash continued to connect with Stephon's body and Matt finally heard his friend let out a soft sob. It wouldn't be long now, or at least Matt hoped.
Kyle called a stop before Matt could. He walked over. "Are you going to be with him tonight?"
"Yes."
"Okay, I'm sure Trisha put new towels on the couch. Let's get him over there."
Matt looked to the side of the play area where Trisha was back in her original spot and on her knees. She looked away from them so he couldn't see her face.
Kyle helped Matt remove Stephon's restraints and then the two of them managed to get the large man to the couch. Matt walked to the counter to retrieve the lotion and saw Kyle pick Trisha up and walk away with her tightly against his chest.
After positioning Stephon as comfortably as possible, Matt picked up the bottle of lotion. A young woman walked over and placed Stephon's clothes on the counter before heading back to the play area to clean it.
"How are you doing?" Matt rested his hand on his friend's head.
Stephon's reply was low, "Better."
"I'm sorry."
"Not your fault. It's been building for a while."
"You get my hands with the lotion. It'll add to your torture."
"So true. Thank you."
"Only you would think my rough hands are a gift."
"Do your worst."
They made it back to the suite an hour later and Stephon removed his clothes again. Like so many nights before, Matt slept with his chest pressed against Stephon's back so his friend could feel the heat from his body and Stephon could suffer just a little bit more.
***

Matt
"Time to get your ass out of bed, fuckwad." Matt used Stephon's favorite war phrase.
Stephon's groan was long and loud. "It can't possibly be light outside."
"We have a date for mouth-watering muffins."
Stephon's head came off the pillow as he looked in Matt's direction before burying his face in the pillow again. "I don't need your fucking pity," came the muffled reply.
"Yes, you do. If I did a reach-a-round right now, you'd accept my pity with gratitude."
"Fuck you." His head didn't lift.
"Today's zucchini cinnamon."
"That's dirty."
Matt smiled when Stephon sat up and twisted so his feet hit the floor. "Take a shower first so she knows you're at least half human."
Stephon stood and walked over to the heavy curtain, pulling it back. "It's full fucking dark. I can't believe you've been doing this for almost a week."
"She's worth it."
A small amount of anger slipped into Stephon's voice, "I wouldn't know."
Matt ignored the tone, but gave Stephon a drink of coffee and then waited while he showered.
Stephon grumbled more when he discovered they'd be walking, but Matt ignored him.
Halfway to the diner, Stephon spoke, "So tell me what you like about this one so much."
"This one's name... is Jewel, and she's different."
"How?"
"I'm not sure. She has no idea who I am, she works hard, and she took a few of my kinks quite well. It was hard to leave her yesterday."
"You've got it bad."
"I'm hoping it's catchy."
Stephon's loud "harrumph" made Matt smile. He waited for his friend to continue.
"Do you think I'd hurt her?"
"God, no." Matt shook his head.
"Then why did this take so long?"
Matt looked down at the cracks in the pavement before glancing at Stephon and answering, "She's not like us."
"Degenerate, perverted, deviant?"
"Exactly, and you'll love her."
"You don't want to share this one, do you?"
Matt knew what it took for Stephon to ask the question. They both lived with secret fears of the other finding a soul mate who didn't share. "Truthfully... I've been worried that she'll freak when she finds out."
"Are you embarrassed of what we have?" Stephon wasn't looking at him.
Matt stopped and took his friend's hand, not caring who saw. He brought Stephon's fingers to his lips. "That will never happen."
"You gay fucker."
"Only for you."