Lieutenant Koshelev places a hand on Mikhail’s shoulder.
“Will you come tonight?” He asks.
A chill goes down Mikhail’s spine. It’s the same as the first time Koshelev asked him this question. Mikhail feels the same tightness in his chest, the same tension in his fingers. Even the hand caressing his shoulder feels the same. Mikhail’s mind races through that last evening – all the ways he was bent over and moved and controlled. He remembers the Lieutenant’s gaze as Mikhail jerked himself off. Does he want to go through that all again?
"Yes, sir.” Mikhail says. He tries to sound neutral – not excited and not nervous, even though he feels both at this moment. Koshelev releases his shoulder. Mikhail stands up quickly and rushes over to where Koshelev’s coat hangs by the door. He holds it open for the Lieutenant, who smiles as he slides his arms into the sleeves.
“You learn very quickly, Misha.” Koshelev says. Mikhail hands him his gloves and hat, then goes to put on his own coat. The two step out into the night, Mikhail walking two steps behind Koshelev. He keeps his eyes on Koshelev’s boots. The small snowflakes land gently on Koshelev’s boots before melting and sliding down the black leather. Mikhail imagines the water drops being crushed under Koshelev’s soles every time he walks. The two men get into Koshelev’s car.
“Where are we going, sir?” Mikhail asks as they drive away from the base.
“We’re visiting a friend of mine.” Koshelev says. “He’s expecting us.”
“Lieutenant Roshchin?” Mikhail remembers the man he saw with Koshelev that evening, the one who pressed his lit cigarette against Koshelev’s unlit cigarette. Koshelev pauses.
“Yes.” He says at last.
“Are you friends, sir?”
“Yuri and I are very close.”
Mikhail wants to ask more, but he sees the Lieutenant’s smile and it makes him feel a little angry. He checks to see that he has the pack of cigarettes in his left pocket.
“He’s interested in meeting you.” Koshelev says. Mikhail’s breath catches in his chest.
“What will I need to do?” Mikhail asks, trying again to sound neutral.
“You’ll do what I tell you to do. You can decide if you’ll serve him or not, but I hope you do. Yuri’s a good man.”
Mikhail looks out the window at the houses going by. Only a few lights can be seen.
“You forgot to add ‘sir’.” Koshelev says. Mikhail’s eyes open wide and he opens his mouth to speak, but Koshelev claps a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s okay, Misha.” He chuckles. “I’m very forgiving and I appreciate your effort.”
Mikhail smiles.
---
The men stop at a lodge outside of town. They are greeted at the door by Lieutenant Roshchin, a larger man with dark hair and darker eyes. He’s dressed in an officer’s formal attire, but it’s slightly disheveled. His boots are caked in dried mud. Roschin embraces Koshelev in the entryway.
“Welcome back, Petya!” Roshchin says emphatically. Koshelev hugs Roschin tightly, smiling. The sound of Mikhail closing the door makes the men pull away and stare at him. Mikhail stands awkwardly by the door, waiting for Koshelev’s coat. Roshchin looks him up and down.
“Yuri, this is my secretary, Mikhail Constantinovich Tsukanov.” Koshelev says. Mikhail expects a similar hug, but Roshchin only shakes his hand. He’s still wearing leather gloves. Koshelev removes his own coat and hangs it on a chair by the fire, but he keeps his gloves on. The room is warm and well lit. There’s a bottle of vodka and an ashtray on the table near a large sofa, which seems out of place in this homey room.
“I started cooking shortly before you arrived. I caught a couple of rabbits this morning.” Roshchin says as he follows Koshelev to where he’s sitting on the couch. Mikhail follows behind, unsure of where he should be. He sits on the arm of the sofa, close to Koshelev, but Koshelev motions for him to sit on the ground at his feet. Roshchin reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette. Koshelev pulls a box of matches and strikes one. Roshchin lights his cigarette, blows smoke out of his nose, then places the cigarette in Koshelev’s mouth. He pulls a second cigarette from the box and places it in his mouth.
“Only rabbits?” Koshelev strikes another match and holds it up for Roshchin.
“It was a lousy hunt.” Roshchin sighs, taking another drag on his cigarette. “Even the animals are avoiding the war.”
“If I had known you were cooking, I could have brought something in.”
“No, that’s not necessary. I need the practice.”
“You don’t have to try to impress me, Yurochka.” Koshelev says quietly. Roshchin looks towards the fire, taking a long drag on his cigarette. Koshelev turns to Mikhail.
“Open your mouth, I need an ashtray.” He says.
Mikhail freezes, but his mouth opens. Koshelev places the cigarette over his tongue and taps the ashes off. Mikhail expects them to be hot, but they’re only sooty. He swallows a few times to get the taste off his tongue. Roshchin notices their exchange.
“He’s obedient.” Roshchin remarks. “Homosexual?”
“Mikhail’s like a dog in heat.” Koshelev says, stroking Mikhail’s hair. “He’ll rut anything.”
“Mmm.” Roshchin holds up his cigarette. A large amount of ash has built up on the tip.
“Can I use you tonight, too?” Roshchin asks Mikhail.
Mikhail thinks for a moment.
“Yes, sir.” He says. He glances at Koshelev, who smiles down at him and strokes the back of his head.
“Come here, boy.” Roshchin beckons. Mikhail crawls along the floor to Roshchin and opens his mouth. Roshchin places the ash on Mikhail’s tongue and taps to break it off.
“Wait a moment before swallowing.” Roshchin instructs. Mikhail keeps his mouth open for a bit before closing it and swallowing the large amount of ash from Roshchin’s cigarette.
“Good boy.” Roshchin smiles. He looks at Koshelev. “What’s his name again?”
“Mikhail.”
“Good boy, Mikhail.” Roshchin looks down at Mikhail. Mikhail beams. Inside, he’s surprised that the compliment from a man he barely knows feels as rewarding as praise from Koshelev.
“Sit here.” Koshelev points to a spot between him and Roshchin. Mikhail slides into position, kneeling in front of the two men. Koshelev holds out his cigarette and Mikhail takes the ash obediently. Roshchin deposits his ash in Mikhail’s mouth as well, then leans back against Koshelev. He kicks up one leg and rests it on Mikhail’s shoulder. Mikhail looks at the muddy boot, then back at the two men. He makes a mental note to clean his shirt once he’s back at the barracks.
“Your boots need to be cleaned.” Koshelev says to Roshchin.
“It looks that way, huh?” Roshchin places his other boot on Mikhail’s other shoulder, making him shake but not tip over.
“Is that all from hunting?”
“Some. It’s been a long time since I got them cleaned.”
“A shame.”
“Do you want the boy to do it?”
“No.”
“You’re so jealous of my boots, huh, Petya.” Roshchin jabs Koshelev in the ribs.
“Always.” Koshelev chuckles. He stands up, pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket, and kneels beside Mikhail. He brushes off the dried mud, flakes of dirt landing on the floor and Mikhail’s uniform. Mikhail braces himself, trying to stay as still as possible while Koshelev works. Once the mud is mostly gone, Koshelev spits onto the rag and starts polishing Roshchin’s boots, starting from the toe and working his way up the leg. At one point, he leans over to lick the boot, so close that Mikhail can feel Koshelev’s hair on his temple. Koshelev is slow but steady. Mikhail looks at Roshchin. Roshchin is panting, his mouth open slightly. There’s a large bulge in the crotch of his pants.
“They’re beautiful.” Roshchin coos. “You’re the only one who should touch my boots.”
Koshelev looks up at Roshchin. His cheeks are flushed. He walks back to Roshchin and the two men embrace more intimately. Koshelev kisses Roshchin. Roshchin removes his boots from Mikhail’s shoulders and laces his legs between Koshelev’s legs. Roshchin uses his thumb to open Koshelev’s mouth before sliding his tongue in. They keep their gloved hands on whatever bare skin is available - Roshchin’s on Koshelev’s cheek, Koshelev’s under Roshchin’s sleeve. Their chests press closely against each other. Mikhail watches all of this while a lump forms in his stomach. He’s frozen by his desire to obey but longs to crawl forward and touch the two men, to be a part of the scene that makes his cock stiffen. Just rubbing his cheek against Koshelev’s calf would be enough.
“The boy.” Roshchin whispers. He turns to look at Mikhail.
“Hm?” Koshelev murmurs as he kisses Roshchin’s exposed neck
“He looks like he’s enjoying himself.”
“Mmm.” Koshelev reaches up to Roshchin’s neck.
“Have you seen him?” Roshchin’s eyes are locked on Mikhail’s crotch. Mikhail straightens his back.
“Yes.”
“Then let me see it.” Roshchin looks at Mikhail expectantly. He furrows his brow.
“Boy!” He says loudly. Both Mikhail and Koshelev jump.
“Yes?” Mikhail says, pausing shortly before remembering to add “sir.”
“Undress. Let me see what Petr has seen.”
Mikhail stands up and strips. Koshelev pulls away from Roshchin to watch, with that same hungry look he had the first time he saw Mikhail naked. Mikhail stands up straight, chest out, shoulders back, as if he was undergoing uniform inspection. The men look him up and down. Roshchin smiles, scoots to the side, and pats the empty space between him and Koshelev.
“Come.” Roshchin says. Mikhail sits between the two men, but Roshchin pushes him over across his and Koshelev’s laps. Mikhail wants Koshelev to touch his erect cock, but Koshelev only rests his gloved hands on Mikhail’s thighs. Roshchin pinches Mikhail’s skin, his nipples, his arms and neck and cheeks, making him squeak and sigh and then shrieks as Roshchin pulls his short hair back. Roshchin grins widely. He flicks one of Mikhail’s nipples and laughs when Mikhail moans. He shoves two fingers in Mikhail’s mouth and pinches his tongue. Mikhail groans, then closes his mouth and sucks gently on Roshchin’s fingers.
“Mikhail is lively, isn’t he.” Roshchin says with a chuckle. He releases Mikhail’s tongue and pulls his fingers out. He wipes the saliva off on his uniform.
“He looks hungry.” Koshelev says, his eyes locked on Mikhail’s cock.
“You aren’t going to help him with that?”
Mikhail looks at Koshelev, mentally pleading for him to touch him.
“I don’t know, does he need it?” Koshelev asks Roshchin. He wraps his thumb and middle finger around the root of Mikhail’s genitals and squeezes. The pressure makes Mikhail more desperate and he moans.
“He seems hard enough.” Roshchin reaches out and strokes his finger around the underside of Mikhail’s cockhead. Mikhail shuts his eyes. He tries to will these men to touch him, to let him cum anywhere, he’d even cum on his own stomach if they’d just stroke him off.
“What would you do with Mikhail’s body?” Koshelev wipes precum off with one gloved finger.
“Would Mikhail be able to take me? He looks like he would scream during sex.”
“You’d need to warm him up.”
“How's his mouth?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”
“Let’s see.”
Roshchin unbuttons his pants and pulls out his cock. It’s thick, with thin blue veins spreading out along the shaft. Roshchin grabs Mikhail by the hair and pulls him over. Mikhail cannot wrap his hand fully around Roshchin’s dick. He’s surprised that the cock fits in his mouth at all. He’s never sucked a man’s cock before and he wonders what Roshchin expects from him. Mikhail focuses on the head, bobbing up and down so the frenulum runs against his tongue.
“More, boy.” Roshchin presses down on Mikhail’s head. Mikhail chokes slightly on Roshchin’s cock, but manages to prevent himself from vomiting. Roshchin then grabs his hair and pulls him up. Mikhail lets Roshchin guide him up and down, from the spongy head down to the thickest part of the shaft, where it rests for a moment before sliding back out. Another hand - presumably Koshelev’s - presses into his ass, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Don’t waste your seed, Petya.” Roshchin groans. “You’ll get a chance.”
“How is he?” Koshelev says breathily.
“He’s untrained.” Roshchin gasps. “The boy keeps scraping me.”
Mikhail tries to open his mouth wider to keep his teeth away from Roshchin’s shaft, but the stretching hurts his jaw. He struggles to keep up the pace while avoiding closing his teeth. Koshelev slides his gloved hand to Mikhail’s asscrack.
“Suck your lips around your teeth, Misha.” Koshelev says.
Mikhail obeys. It’s easier to keep his mouth closed around Roshchin’s cock now. Koshelev presses his fingers on Mikhail’s asshole and strokes the hole gently. The sensation of leather against his ass makes Mikhail’s cock twitch. He hopes he isn’t leaking on the sofa.
“There we go. It’s much nicer. He has a wet mouth, it’s very easy to get him to slide down me.”
“You look sexy.” Koshelev coos. Mikhail feels his cheeks get hot.
“You like that?” Roshchin says.
“Mmm.” Koshelev presses gently against Mikhail’s asshole, making him moan around Roshchin’s cock.
“Ah!” Roshchin pulls Mikhail’s hair harder, moving him faster. Mikhail struggles to keep up. He chokes slightly as Roshchin pushes him deeper than he’s gone before. Roshchin’s breath is heavy and deep, almost gasping. He smells Roshchin’s sweat, an earthy smell that overwhelms his senses. Behind him, Mikhail feels Koshelev running his fingers along his crack while his other hand strokes Mikhail’s thigh. Koshelev is making small moaning noises. Mikhail closes his eyes, relishing the smell and sensation of the men around him. He flexes his hole against Koshelev’s fingers.
“I’m coming, Petya.” Roshchin gasps. He uses both hands to grip Mikhail’s head. His breath hitches and suddenly, Mikhail’s mouth is overwhelmed with a salty, viscous fluid. It fills his mouth and he struggles to keep it in.
“Swallow, Misha.” Koshelev whispers. “Take your master’s cum.”
Mikhail feels Koshelev’s hand on the back of his neck, stroking his hair gently. He tries to swallow, but chokes. Mikhail pulls out of Roshchin’s grasp, leans over his knee, and spits out the fluid. He opens his eyes to see cum and spit splattered onto Roshchin’s boot, spreading down and out along the wood floor.
“Oh, Misha.” Koshelev says, sounding disappointed.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Mikhail murmurs, eyes still locked on the mess. He feels flush and shy.
“What’s going on?” Roshchin’s voice is weak.
“Mikhail spat on your boots.” Koshelev says.
“Boots can be cleaned.” Roshchin sighs.
“He’ll clean them, alright. With his tongue.”
Mikhail rolls over to face Koshelev, eyes wide. Koshelev is adjusting his gloves. The fact that he won’t look him in the eyes makes Mikhail feel even more embarrassed.
“Boy.” Roshchin says. He’s lying back on the sofa, eyes closed, hands resting on his chest. He opens one eye and looks directly at Mikhail.
“Cum on my boots before you clean them.” Roshchin closes his eyes again and smiles slightly.
“I… sir…” Mikhail feels like his mouth is full of marbles.
“You’ve made one mess on my boots. I don’t see why you can’t make another.”
“Move, Misha.” Koshelev commands. Mikhail gets up, kneels on the floor in front of Roshchin’s boots, and starts masturbating. He focuses on the boot’s black shaft, how it grips Roshchin’s calf. He can see Koshelev’s boots next to Roshchin’s.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Koshelev asks Mikhail. Mikhail nods vigorously. Suddenly, a hand grabs him by the hair, making him yelp in pain.
“He wants a real response, boy.” Roshchin’s voice is back to normal. He releases his grip on Mikhail’s hair.
“Yes, sir.” Mikhail moans. “This feels good, sir.”
Mikhail strokes himself quickly, imagining those black boots crushing him under their heels. His cock had been screaming for release while he sucked off Roshchin. Mikhail would never have imagined that masturbating would feel so good after being hard for so long.
“What are you thinking about?” Koshelev asks him.
“Lieutenant Roshchin’s boots.” Mikhail’s voice cracks as he speaks. “Thank you for letting me masturbate to your boots, sir.”
Mikhail hears Roshchin chuckle.
“What a good boy.” Roshchin says to Koshelev. “He’s exactly like a dog in heat.”
“You’re going to lick your cum off the Lieutenant’s boots once you’re done, yes?” Koshelev says to Mikhail.
“Yes, sir.” Mikhail closes his eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure.
“And you’ll swallow this time?”
“Yes, sir.”
Mikhail feels the toe of one of Roshchin’s boots tap him on the cock. He gasps.
“Bitch.” Roshchin says in a low growl. He strokes the toe against Mikhail’s cockhead, sending shocks of pleasure through his body. Mikhail cries out.
“Tell me before you cum, Misha.” Koshelev’s voice is quieter. He’s breathing heavily.
“Yes, sir. I’m cumming, sir.” Mikhail’s chest feels as tight as his balls. He shrieks as he cums, fluid spurting out and splashing against Roshchin’s other boot. The cum runs down the black leather. Mikhail feels empty and satisfied as he squeezes out the last few drops onto the toe. He bends over and laps up the mess, starting from the toe and working along each side. He goes slow, tasting cum and spit and a slight hint of something chemical. When Mikhail needs to swallow, he sits up and tips his neck up so the men can watch his throat bob, then he leans down and goes back to licking. The damp leather is slightly rough, but becomes smoother as he licks up Roshchin’s calf. He stops at the top of the boot, sits up, and swallows. Mikhail smiles.
“Good boy.” Koshelev murmurs. He’s removed his gloves and is masturbating slowly. His fingers bring the skin over his pronounced cockhead, then glide back down, all the way to the root. Roshchin has an arm around Koshelev’s shoulders and he motions for Mikhail to come closer. Mikhail moves quickly between Koshelev’s legs and wraps his lips around his cock. He feels more prepared this time, bobbing up and down as he had previously with Roshchin. He hears Koshelev’s quiet moans.
“He’s amazing, Yurochka.” Koshelev sighs.
“He suits you.” Roshchin whispers. He strokes the back of Mikhail’s head gently.
“He looks like he was made to take you, Petya.”
“Misha…” Koshelev’s voice trails off into a pleasurable moan. Mikhail pauses to lick Koshelev’s cock and Koshelev calls his name again, this time more loudly. Hearing his name makes his cock stiffen. Roshchin removes his hand from Mikhail’s hair. He hears whispering, but can’t make out what Roshchin is saying.
“Misha!” Koshelev cries as he cums. It pulses powerfully against Mikhail’s tongue. It feels as if he’s cumming more than Roshchin did. Mikhail keeps his mouth wrapped around Koshelev’s cock until it stops twitching. Slowly, he removes the dick, looks up at Koshelev, and swallows. Koshelev smiles, his cheeks flushed. Roshchin rests his head on Koshelev’s shoulders as he looks down at Mikhail.
“Wonderful.” Roshchin says quietly. He laces his fingers through Mikhail’s hair while Koshelev places a hand on Mikhail’s cheek. The two men pet their boy gently. Mikhail closes his eyes and lets out a long, satisfied sigh. He leans into Roshchin’s gloved hand and then into Koshelev’s bare one. The dying fire crackles, but the room still feels as warm as it had before.
- - -