Commander in Briefs

by Kristy Marie

  The wicked gleam in his eyes is my undoing. My rhythm falters when he sits up, his hands on my hips, controlling me now.

  “No, but I love the sound of yours.”

  Pushing me to my limit, he impales me, over and over, reaching that coveted spot that leads me to orgasmic bliss. Over and over, we growl and grunt, promises and threats.

  “You’ll never fuck another man.”

  “I’ll bury a bitch that looks at you with more than a glare.”

  “I’ll kill Cade if he touches you.”

  “You’re mine, Von Bremen.”

  We come together in chaos, our bodies uncoordinated as we attempt to crawl inside each other, further marking each other for any other.

  This time, there’s no going back.

  “Good morning, assholes,” I crow, shooting Mason a little wink as I pass him and Vic at the breakfast table. After a phenomenal night, I am in one fantastic mood. Grabbing the coffeepot, I pour myself a healthy cup and chug, burning my tongue in the process.

  Mason and Vic are hunched together, whispering, with huge-ass grins on their faces. What the fuck is up with that?

  As if Mason can feel me staring daggers at him, he looks up from his conversation with Vic and meets my eyes. “What’s up, Von Bremen? You training with us today?” He’s taunting me with a snide look on his face.

  Inclining my head, I frown. “Yeah, why?”

  Without answering me, he doubles over, allowing his head to bang on the kitchen table. Short bursts of snorts and laughter are muffled with his head down but there is no denying that whatever he is about to throw at me, he finds it incredibly funny. Sucking in a big gulp of air, he steels himself and tries not to smile. “Well, we figured with all your screaming last night, Commander would keep you locked away in bed to rest.” He snorts again, laughing so hard he has to support his stomach.

  “Hardy har har, dickhead. If you would have listened more closely, you would have heard that was, in fact, your precious Commander doing all the screaming.”

  Both guys continue to give me shit and bust my balls for the wild sex Ans and I had out by the pond last night that was eventually moved to the patio, where discretion never occurred to us.

  Exasperated and done with their bullshit, I snap, “Who the fuck is cooking? I’m starving.”

  Just as the last word leaves my mouth, Hayes strolls in with a swagger and a grin that rivals Mason’s. Did they strategize on how to bust my balls this morning?

  “I am, fuckwad. Come help me. You can be my little bitch since the Commander broke you in for me.” Hayes gives me an air kiss and a sly wink before he claps me on the back, guiding me to the stove. I hate Marines.

  “Ha ha, everyone is a fucking comedian today.” I smile despite myself, because honestly, I would bust my balls, too, if I were in their shoes. I gave up my man card creating a romantic night for my girl. But I staked my fucking claim. Finally.

  Following Hayes, I begin pulling out ingredients to help prepare breakfast. Everyone rotates breakfast, but we all starve on Vic’s mornings. It’s usually cereal and burnt toast.

  Hayes is probably my favorite out of this rowdy bunch. He keeps to himself and we both share a love of video games and baseball. The conversation is light as we cook, Hayes asking about my upcoming game and the new pitcher the Dodgers have—he was brought from the minors and has been rumored to be a force. We’ll see.

  We announce the food is ready about a half hour later, and like Pavlov’s dog, the whole house rushes the counter, piling food high on their plates, moaning about how good Hayes can cook. Seriously? I helped. But I have to admit it does taste pretty damn delicious.

  We’re caught up talking about the new Marvel movie when a new face enters the kitchen and heads straight for the food. Everyone stops talking and watches intently as this newcomer piles his plate high with two omelets. He smiles ear to ear, like he hasn’t seen food in days. That may be true enough, his body is scary thin. Oh shit. He’s a new recruit. Fuck me.

  I toss my fork down on the plate, its weight making a clanging noise. “Dammit.” I cross my arms, throwing my head back in frustration. Eyes closed, I try and focus on what’s important. Being with Anniston. No matter what bullshit I’ll have to endure.

  I hear footsteps behind me before my chair is bumped intentionally.

  “Suck it up, Von Bremen.” Cade. Fucking Cade.

  The rest of the guys at the table groan and throw their silverware down, too. We all know what this means. The new guy, however, is clueless, taking a seat next to me, shoveling food down without an ounce of remorse. Hand over hand, he continues to clean his plate, not once looking up to see what the fuss is all about.

  “Gentlemen,” Cade announces, looking at us over the rim of his coffee mug, a wide-ass smile displayed on his face, “This is Lawson. He’s our newest recruit.”

  Cade points a meaty finger at me. “Lawson, the big mouth beside you is Von Bremen, Commander’s little plaything. He doesn’t live here. You don’t have to respect him, you just have to tolerate him until the Commander tires of him.”

  I grin, undeterred by Cade’s negativity this morning. Extending my hand to Lawson, I give him my award-winning, panty-melting, sell-some-jerseys-for-the-media smile. He eyes me warily but eventually takes it with a firm shake.

  “It’s Theo. And actually, I bang the shit out of your Commander so you don’t suffer her wrath any more than you have to.” I get up and look around the table. “Think of me as your savior of sorts. You’re welcome.” I take a dramatic bow.

  Snorts and disguised “bullshits” come from every direction around the table. Unappreciative little bastards.

  Cade rolls his eyes at my theatrics and continues as if I hadn’t interrupted, pointing around the table. “Hayes, Vic, Mason, and Tim.”

  They all nod and say welcome or some shit. I don’t listen because I am still pouting about having my breakfast interrupted, and a little ADHD by this point. Now, I’m ready to get this morning over with.

  Lawson continues to scoop food in his mouth, totally oblivious that no one else is eating. Even Cade has foregone breakfast. He knows we are getting our asses kicked.

  A few more silent minutes tick by before Lawson looks up from his plate with a mouthful of food and asks, “What? What are you all staring at?”

  When we all just continue to stare, Hayes speaks up. “You may want to go easy on the food.”

  Lawson, confused, swallows loudly before he asks, “Why?”

  Hayes, ever the politician, responds, “Because the Commander won’t stop working you today until you puke. It’s a tradition for all new recruits.” He grimaces as he looks at his plate of untouched food.

  He’s right, it’s going to be a long-ass day and Ans won’t stop until the newbie pukes or until we all die. I doubt she cares which.

  Lawson stares at Hayes before Cade interjects, “It’s showtime, Lieutenant. Time to see what you are made of.”

  The tension in the room seems to finally sink in. Lawson pushes his plate away and sits a little taller. This guy isn’t going to let us jackasses get to him.

  Vic smiles, sensing that we have a good one and yells, “Oohrah!”

  We all repeat it in a sign of solidarity. Yes, even me. I like these guys. Well, except for Cade.

  We try to pick up a conversation up after that, but it’s strained.

  “Good Morning, ladies!”

  Everyone immediately snaps to attention. “Good Morning, Commander,” they chant in unison.

  I smirk up at her and nod. “Ans.”

  She scowls but doesn’t reprimand me for not calling her Commander in front of the “children.”

  Taking a cup from the cabinet, she pours coffee for herself. We’re all sitting quietly watching, waiting for her direction.

  She laughs. “What’s with the long faces, boys?”

  No one answers. She knows why the long faces. She loves this kind of torture. Swaying over to Hayes, she grabs his fork and begins
to eat his leftover omelet.

  “Mmm… Damn, Hayes, this is delicious.”

  Groans erupt from the table.

  She looks around, giving us a devious smile, and states, “I hope you all loaded up on the protein. It’s a beautiful day to stretch our muscles and burn off some steam.” Her hands reach high, interlocking her fingers, stretching, as her pink tank rides up above her naval.

  Every penis at this table points at her toned stomach.

  I stand abruptly, breaking the hypnotic stares. “Well, I don’t know about everyone else but I am ready to get this show on the road. I got shit to do today.” I snap my fingers for effect, urging her to speed this little charade up.

  She glares at me but quickly corrects her look with a smile. Sauntering over to me slowly, she drags her finger down my jawline.

  I don’t move a muscle. I don’t think I even breathe.

  Her mouth is to my ear, her breath teasing when she whispers, “Theo, after I break that spirit this morning the only shit you’ll be doing is rehab on that shoulder until I fucking allow you to stop. But by all means, keep the attitude. You know what it does to me.” She squeezes my jaw then lets go harshly.

  Although she just made me hard as fuck, I’m slightly pissed.

  She turns to address the table again but I grab her arm, hauling her back into my chest. Speaking firmly in her ear, I remind her, “It would do you well to remember, Commander, that today is Thursday. When my rehab and training are over, your ass is all mine. But please keep the attitude, you know what it does to me.” I grasp her hand and make her palm my straining cock.

  She glances down at my tented shorts, a smile forming on her lips.

  Even under my compression pants, that fucker is still straining to get out.

  Her eyes drift up to mine and all I see is the swirl of desire in their depths. This is why she and I work. We both love to gain and lose control with each other.

  A throat clears behind us, probably Cade.

  Anniston releases me and steps back, allowing some distance for us to settle down. “I take it you guys have met our newest recruit?”

  The guys nod their heads up and down.

  I chuckle. Do they all look a little flushed?

  Anniston, never one to care about embarrassment, continues, “Well then, let’s get out there, ladies!”

  The field we use for training is a hundred acres of old farming land. Anniston and Cade have been building obstacles for a few weeks now. Barrels, tires, and wooden platforms decorate the open space. Most of the obstacles were conceived watching that dreadful warrior show she likes so much. Pussy-ass Cade likes it, too. It’s their “thing” on Sunday nights. Pettiness aside, the place is actually starting to look like a military training facility.

  Hayes sidles up beside me looking antsy. “Do you know what she has planned?”

  I shrug. “I never know what fucked up torture she has planned.”

  He nods his head rapidly in understanding. We’re all wound tight this morning. Hayes is usually not this spazzy but being that we all know how she breaks in the newbies, suffice it to say… we… are… fucking… scared.

  “Alright, ladies. Today we have a new recruit,” she reiterates like we are a bunch of idiots and did not just meet him at the breakfast table. Moving closer to the line of men, she circles us like prey. She approaches Hayes first with a wicked gleam in her eye. Swiftly, she leans forward, catching him off guard by fisting his shirt, restraining him to her. “We have a tradition of sorts. Tell us, Hayes, what is that tradition?”

  Hayes pauses and looks down at his shirt locked in her iron grip.

  Anniston lifts an eyebrow, waiting for his answer.

  After a strangled sound, he speaks loudly and clearly into the open air. “We train until the new recruit pukes, ma’am.”

  My eyes wander over to Lawson, who’s actively trying to disguise his nerves, but we all can see them. We’ve all been in his shoes.

  Anniston nods her head in appreciation. “That’s correct, Sergeant.”

  Just as Hayes relaxes, she snatches him forward by his shirt again.

  He stumbles but catches himself before he can fall.

  “We also have another rule in this house. I believe it’s that you must carb-load prior to every workout and protein-load afterward. Tell me, Hayes, did you carb-load this morning?” Her eyes dare him to lie.

  Oh, fuck. Lie, man. Lie and fucking run.

  Hayes shakes his head slowly, trying to buy himself some time. “No, ma’am.”

  Dumb move.

  Anniston inclines her head. “Oh? And why is that, Sergeant Hayes?”

  Hayes looks to me for help. I make a gagging noise because I’m a dumbass and enjoy getting my ass spanked by this girl. Nothing like pushing her buttons on a day she can’t punish me. Well, she can out here on the field but she would be wise not to. She’ll be at my mercy after five and I’m pretty unforgiving in the bedroom.

  Immediately, chuckles are covered by coughs. Hayes’s face turns crimson as he dares a look at Ans. “We didn’t want to puke, ma’am.”

  Anniston gives him her award-winning smile and pats him on the shoulder like a good little boy scout. “Well, Sergeant Hayes, I think we could all learn a lesson here today. When orders are not followed, the platoon suffers.”

  Groans are muffled as feet start shuffling. She is about to kill us all.

  “Since none of you followed orders this morning, I think we should go, not only until the rookie pukes, but until one of you do as well. It’s a two for one today, gentleman! Who’s it going to be?” she taunts, looking around at the pale faces. “Theo?” she inquires with a raised eyebrow.

  I shrug, undeterred by her crazy. I have dealt with this from her for many years. She doesn’t scare me. Well, not much anyway. “If I have to. I’ll take one for the team.” I give her a little wink just to throw her off her game.

  Her lips press together but she doesn’t acknowledge my joke. Instead, she looks at me hard, her trainer face on. “It’s ab day for you. You run until I stop you, then you are with me.”

  I nod in understanding with a hint of a smile.

  She looks to Cade next. “You run until I tell you to stop. It’s back day for you, then you are done for the day. Understand?”

  He looks like he wants to argue with her but he doesn’t.

  She picks up his reluctance immediately and continues, “In fact, immediately following this workout I want you in the sauna for twenty minutes. Once done, you will turn your cell phone over to Hayes and report to your room for three hours of shut-eye.”

  Cade looks downright murderous, but again, he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t respond either, which makes Anniston’s crazy come out even more.

  “Major! Am I understood?”

  Cade meets her eyes and yells, “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” He’s fuming but doesn’t utter another word. The only thing that gives him away is the steady tick of his jaw.

  The rest of us watch silently as the drama unfolds. Usually, in this situation one of us would start ragging the shit out of whoever got in trouble. Okay, usually it’s me, but in this situation, no one even breathes.

  We all heard Cade screaming last night. He suffers from PTSD, like most of them, but apparently his is bad. Ans was up most of the night working him through the horror.

  “Shirts off. One at a time,” she demands, looking at me. “You first, lover.”

  I feel the corner of my mouth tip up in an almost smile. Reaching behind my neck, I grab the collar, pulling it over my head slowly. She likes it slow. She likes to see the reveal of every line of muscle, inch by inch. She’s kinky like that. When I feel the hem graze the back of my neck, I yank harder and toss it to my feet. Lifting my eyes to meet her beautiful blues, I give her a little wink and a playful smile.

  She returns it and nods at Hayes. “Let’s go, beautiful. Show Mama.”

  Hayes belts out a laugh and grabs the hem of his shirt first, raising the corner up slowly,
keeping his eyes trained on Ans. She stays focused, never taking her gaze off of him. He continues until his grey Dri-FIT shirt is to his shoulder, showcasing all his hard work at the gym. Muscles flexing, he clenches them a few times, giving Anniston her little fucked up show, and pulls his arm out. His head and remaining arm pop through next before he throws the discarded shirt at Anniston’s feet, leaving his bare, scar-free chest on display.

  She casually strolls up to him and traces the hard lines of his swollen pecs. He grins. It’s purely platonic between them. Well, I can’t be positive, but I think so. I make sure to piss on my territory every time I am here to keep the fantasies at bay.

  Most of the guys know her unorthodox method is just that. She builds them up, makes them feel sexy and wanted. She probably makes them incredibly horny too but I know for a fact they handle that elsewhere. It doesn’t mean that watching this little shit show of madness doesn’t make me jealous as fuck.

  The first time I saw it with Cade, I had a complete and utter meltdown. I’m talking tantrum and all. It took some aggressive sex and a shit-ton of liquor before I finally could listen to her reasoning.

  Anniston looks at the newbie next. Hitching a brow, she orders, “Your turn, handsome.”

  Lawson, aka the rookie, pales. I guess I would, too. I am the smallest of these guys. I don’t have the bulky frame and huge calves like they do. It’s like comparing Vin Diesel to Paul Walker, me being Paul, and I mean the Paul from the first movie.

  I hold on to the knowledge that Ans comes up with my workouts and conditions my body just as she wants it. And, I’m just not a big guy. Years of playing ball have left me lean. Granted, my shoulder and back muscles are something to brag about. And my glutes. Definitely my glutes. Ans’ favorite. But the lesson here is to love yourself, or some shit like that. I think Ans just gets her rocks off making us all strip.

  The newbie fidgets with his hem. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to take it off. His frame is thin and probably heavily scarred. Most of the guys are. I don’t know this guy’s story but I know bits of the others’ and none of them are fairy tales.