Rating: E

Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with Terry Pratchett or Discworld.
Warning: Contains fantasies of sexual abuse. I think. :-\ And it involves men. Well, man, at any rate.

One Sock, and You Could Make a Strappi
by Amazon Syren

     Marmaduke hated women.
     He hated them with the sort of passion that other men reserved for loving (or something like loving) them.
     Women were one step away from being abominable by nature. They were naturally dishonest, and they led men in the ways of sin – although, here, Marmaduke had to disagree.
     That was the problem.
     No matter how much of his salary (when it eventually arrived) he spent in badly spelled places like ‘The Hose of Ill Repute’, he never really wanted what he was paying for.
     Oh, he’d pay anyway, and make a show of talking up his conquests with the other men. But when he was alone with a woman – one of those women, whose “virtue” could be rented for a dollar, or sometimes just a loaf of bread – and he’d commanded her imperiously to service him, he’d lean against the wall of the shed and close his eyes.
     It wasn’t the work of her mouth that gave him release, but the images behind his eyes.

     Goddammit, why?

     Sometimes… Sometimes he found men – young men, mostly, keen for a promotion or wanting to impress their superior officer with their loyalty – who would let him… god, he shouldn’t even be thinking about this! The very thought of it caused him to break out in a cold sweat – or worse… but sometimes he just couldn’t deny it any longer.

     He lay in the dark, and thought of the latest bunch of recruits – if they could even be called that – and wondered if there was one among them who might be… keen to impress.

     Goom was useless. He’d seen that from the very beginning. And he’d never been fond of fat boys, so Manickle was out. The abominations (sometimes he’d break down and sob – useless, worthless pass-time that it was – at the thought of being counted among their kind) were out of the question -- especially the vampire. Despite what he’d heard about vampires, and what they got up to in their castles, he wasn’t about to have a pair of fangs anywhere near that close to him.
     He shuddered at the thought.
     No… Halter, Tewt or… Parts…
     Halter was too big. He towered over Marmaduke, and wreaked of anger… not a safe target there. Tewt was always in his bloody shadow, too.
     Ha! he thought, Maybe they’re both just what I’m looking for.
     But no.
     His thoughts returned to Private Parts – Perks, rather. That was a little too telling, wasn’t it? The smug little bastard!
     Oh, god, it would feel so good to… yes… he could feel himself stirring, hardening, at the thought of it. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, moving them rhythmically, following the thought.
     That’s right, Parts, he thought. Show me just how sorry you really are!
     He smiled in the dark, breath quickening as he drew closer and closer to climax. Maybe he’d even piss on the little bugger when he was done.