The Finisher Series: Deuteronomy

By Bert Marshall

Gunter Wolfgang Miller June 16th, 1987 is what is written on my birth certificate, but I’ve been called Cub since I can remember. A few ladies have also called me Cubbie. Evidently I was named after my grandfather, who was killed fighting for Germany in 1944 during the Battle of Aachen.

When the Great War ended, my parents relocated to Fredericksburg, Texas and after they were killed in a terrible car accident, I was moved by the state of Texas into a foster home, near a small city called Wallisville on the Texas Gulf Coast. Well, actually it was closer to Anahuac. Seeing I was still a little boy I don’t remember much of them or anything before that.

The folks who raised me were not the most affectionate couple and I was given chores and duties beginning at the age of five. Butch and Marjorie Thibodeaux had lost both of their small children to a flu epidemic that swept through in the mid-80’s and qualified to bring me into their “loving” home. They expressed love by furnishing room and board and little more, as Marjorie, I later learned, was damaged goods and incapable of deep affection. I was not the replacement child her husband envisioned.

This is book four in a series where justice is meted out in a sanctioned vigilante style. The anti-hero is allowed to plot and plan to accomplish the goals set forth by his employer, the Harris County, Texas District Attorney's Office.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bert Marshall
• Release date: Feb 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370669998

Bert Marshall

Bert Marshall lives in Baytown, Texas and is a Baytown Sun Columnist, Blogger, martial artist, geocacher, PC repair specialist, Jeeper, hiker, indoor cycling instructor, past Texas State Emergency Care Attendant, Hunter education instructor, and a USAF Vietnam Veteran with two tours (651 days in-country).

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The Finisher Series – Deuteronomy

By Bert Marshall

Published by Bert Marshall at Smashwords

Copyright 2017 Bert Marshall

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Gunter Wolfgang Miller, June 16th, 1987 is what is written on my birth certificate, but I’ve been called Cub since I can remember. I was named after my grandfather, who was killed fighting for Germany in 1944 during the Battle of Aachen and seeing he was a Chicago Cubs fan, my nickname was homage to the great man and veteran. A few ladies have also called me Cubbie and I like it coming from them. I wouldn’t care to hear a man say it though.

When the second great war ended, my parents relocated to Fredericksburg, Texas. My mom was nearly forty when I was born and after they were killed in a terrible car accident, I was moved by the state of Texas into a foster home, near a small city called Wallisville on the Texas Gulf Coast. Well, actually it was closer to Anahuac. Seeing I was still a little boy I don’t remember much of them or anything before that.

The folks who raised me were not the most affectionate couple and I was given chores and duties beginning at the age of five. Butch and Marjorie Thibodeaux had lost both of their small children to a flu epidemic that swept through in the mid-80’s and qualified to bring me into their loving home. They expressed love by furnishing room and board and little more, as Marjorie, I later learned, was damaged goods and incapable of developing deep affection. I was not the replacement children her husband envisioned.

Everything went well in my life and I started school and got to mingle with other kids and was accepted as one of them. Eventually, my German accent disappeared altogether. My adopted parents kept me very busy tending our garden, feeding our small amount of livestock, and running dad’s trotlines, which was intended to keep me out of trouble and it did. I really didn’t know any better and I threw myself into the chores, which were actually fun. Dad bought me a .22 caliber Marlin rifle for Christmas in the year 1997 and a Mossberg pump twelve gauge shotgun on my eleventh birthday. I took naturally to the guns and was very efficient; rarely missing whatever came in front of the muzzle.

This is not really odd in the area where we live and I became quite adept at shooting ducks, dove, geese and using slugs; feral hogs. Dad didn’t talk much and mom never shut-up and most of it was wandering nonsense. We both learned to ignore her for the most part and dad and I spent many hours running those trotlines in silence, selling hundreds of pounds of catfish to the fish place on FM1409, and generally working around the homestead.

I do not remember playing in the conventional sense and by the age of twelve, I had already developed muscles normally associated with constant gym work-outs. In my mind, I was normal, but the other kids didn’t think so. They loved to play and as far as they were concerned, all I did was work. I didn’t mind and was living every kid’s dream of little supervision.

Both mom and dad smoked cigarettes and I tried it once, but never took to it. Once a week, my mom would drink Lonestar beer and get pretty lit up and that is when I could hear them in the back of the house doing what dad called sporting. I had a pretty good idea it was adult in nature and mom seemed to like it, especially afterwards. It sounded like he was hurting her each time it started and she would use language my dad told me shouldn’t be uttered in public and ladies and kids shouldn’t repeat. I thought it was funny as hell, but didn’t make a habit of hanging around to hear it. I had rabbits to hunt and fish to catch and I was good at both.

I would go down to the barn and tend our eight cows and many chickens and when I saw them come out on the porch, I would know mom was going to be happy for a few days. This was like clockwork every Friday after supper and I would shower and hit the sack early so I could hunt squirrels when the sun came up. Unlike modern kids, I had never seen porn and we didn’t even own a computer or gaming system. I was too busy, with chores and school.

By the time I was fifteen, I could drive almost any piece of farm equipment made and at six-three and two hundred pounds I was as big as most men will ever be and stronger than most. I was making a hundred dollars a day working for the local farmers and ranchers doing their dirt work or what have you. One third of everything I made went to my parents for room and board, as I was now a wage earner. Mom was backboard straight on R&B as she called it and later in life I understood. I never resented paying my share.

I had no idea I was the subject of discussion amongst the farmer’s wives until one of the farmers I worked for told me. He was a widower name Pike Richard and to me, real old. Pike and I had become pretty good friends after I helped him rescue about forty head of his cattle when the Trinity River flooded. We went in on horseback and spent thirty straight hours getting them out. Pike was a bastion of worldly knowledge to me, educating me on the finer points of being a man. He also taught me every bad word I ever learned, besides the ones mom used. Pike knew them all and had been a marine in Vietnam with three Purple Heart medals.

He explained to me one day how most women want to have sex, but are afraid of getting pregnant and gave me a twelve-pack of what he called rubbers. I was embarrassed to tell him I was still a virgin, but he guessed it and nodded and said he figured as much. The secret to unlocking a woman’s legs is you treat them like human beings, not like a different species. You be real nice to them, but also let them know you are interested in them as a person.

I had no idea how to do this and he further enlightened me by saying, You don’t make the first move at all and that is why most men fail; they jump on in and do something stupid. They will let you know by subtle signals son and it is your job to interpret them. I was still at a loss and my mentor Pike elaborated. They will touch themselves. Their hair, their butts, their tummies, etcetera and this is what you look for. They’ll stand a little too close and bat their eyelids and make subtle noises around you and this is their unconscious body movements giving you the signal to go ahead.

I’ve watched the way some of these farmer’s wives act when we are all down at the farmer’s market. You could bed half of them right now.

What? Are you serious? I asked, thinking about Ben Criner’s wife, with her luscious and ripe body. I’ve jacked off about fifty times thinking about her and now I remember her smiling at me and adjusting her hair and I almost crap my britches.

Take that fox Lucy Criner. Man, if she looked at me the way she looks at you, I would have her on her back and spread those fine legs in a heartbeat and there are other’s too. Check out the ones who are married to older guys. These farmers offer their wives a very secure living and that is why they marry them. You could be banging a different woman every week and no one would know unless you blabbed about it and you ain’t no talker. Rest assured, they won’t kiss and tell, and so just let me know when you need more rubbers son. He laughs real hard and rubs his crotch.

Oh, one more thing. Don’t act like you know what you are doing. Don’t do that at all. Women love to teach young fellas how to satisfy them; it makes them horny as the dickens and they feel powerful and generous at the same time.

As big as I was, I made the varsity football team at the tryouts and became a halfback. Looking back, I think I was the only freshman on the team. Dad and mom had been big Oiler fans and with the new Houston Texans team being formed, dad was big on the sport and mentored me on all aspects of it while we listened to the game on the radio. This was the first time my dad and I really bonded and he came to the practices and watched our opening game against Tarkington Prairie. I was so much bigger and stronger than the defense that I ran for eight touchdowns by the first half and the coach pulled me to let our second stringers get experience.

This was the night I lost my virginity to Jennifer Tyler, the top cheerleader and a senior. We screwed in the back of her Dad’s Dodge Durango in the back of the parking lot and I was clumsy and she was quite forgiving, even though I blew my load on my own stomach. I did not have the condoms like Pike had instructed and she stared into my eyes as she rocked over me and in panting words explained that You have to pull out before you cum, Cubby honey. I did and it was almost embarrassing how much came out of me. She giggled and remarked that she had excited me that much and casually cleaned herself and me up with a handful of tissues.

All I saw was her shaved mound, as her rather prominent breasts stayed covered and she kissed me on the lips and told me to lock it up when I got out. I looked down and my penis was still wet and back to its normal size and I smiled real big and pulling my uniform pants up, I headed back to the bleachers. I had to force myself to stop smiling and danged if Jennifer wasn’t back on the sideline cheering with the other girls. I reckon she had no idea she just took my cherry.

After the game I was surrounded by folks I had never talked to, along with my parents, teammates, teachers, and friends and it was overwhelming and then there was Lucy Criner, big boobs and all, extending her hand and smiling. I felt it and palming a note; I slipped it into my waistband and smiled back. Her sixty year old husband was grinning his infectious smile and he handed me eight five-dollar bills. One for every touchdown boy! Hey! Come by the ranch tomorrow will you? I need someone to feed my livestock while I’m in Dallas for the weekend.

Uh, sure thing Mr. Criner and thanks for the money.

Hell’s bells boy. I’ll pay yah fifty dollars a day to help me out on top of award money.

Everyone in Anahuac knows Mr. Criner is loaded, raising those prize bulls and all. Sure thing sir. I’ll be there bright and early.

----

The next morning I arrived a little after 6am and by 10am, I’ve completed the chores. This is how farmers live and hard work is what I’ve done since I was five. It’s autumn and still hotter than Hades in the barn and my shirt is soaking wet, so I pull it off and wring it out. Turning around, I nearly jump seeing Lucy standing ten feet away and she’s wearing cut-off shorts and a halter top with no bra. One look at her face and I know and I smile uneasily and this draws her in like Pike said.

That is all it took and what happened next made sex with Jennifer what it was - two kids fumbling. Lucy fucked me and she fucked me good and I watched a woman in the agony and ecstasy of orgasm. If I had never heard my mom make these moans I would have stopped, but Lucy’s heavy breasts shuddered over my chest as her face contorted and I watched a woman cum for the first time. Before the day had hit noon, we did it a second time and this was more like the animals, where I took her from behind at her urging. She called it doggy and she liked it a lot.

Sunday morning was a repeat and after the chores were done, we did it and then Lucy left me for church. I went home to do our chores and all I could think about was her face as she shuddered under me. What a body! Lord have mercy!

----

High school was a blur of football and sex and one by one I banged a number of married women in the area and never once was caught. There was a new teacher named Jennifer Jones with an amazing body who after catching me alone, allowed me to go down her and after she came, she walked off wagging her ass. It was all new to me and I stepped inside a shower stall and jacked off to the scent of her on my face. She used me and I didn’t care at the time, but later vowed I would never let a woman do that to me again, without me dipping my wand before it was over. I also decided I would never simply use a woman for sex. It had to be mutually satisfying. I guess more of Pike’s teaching rubbed off on me than I realized at the time.

My coach helped me get a scholarship to Texas A&M in College Station. I left Anahuac and Pike behind. I would not have left the area if my adoptive parents had survived the sudden realization they had lung cancer. They both had taken to chain-smoking the last three years because dad had a friend who could get Indian-made cigarettes real cheap. Cancer took them both within a month of each other. The only good thing about it was it was sudden for both of them.

I don’t remember crying, but I did grieve in my own way, throwing myself into work and sports.

I had no idea my dad didn’t outright own the house and land and it was foreclosed upon about the time I was to leave for college, so leave I did. They had no insurance or savings that I was aware of and I was penniless. I spent the last night in Anahuac in the arms of Lucy Criner and she cried in my shoulder after I made love to her. I was eighteen, heading on nineteen and had topped out at six-three inches tall and a trim two hundred and ten pounds of coiled muscle.

Lucy gave me four thousand dollars and begged me to visit as often as I could. Later I would learn that my old pal Pike left me over a million dollars as the sole beneficiary of his whole life insurance policy.

----

A&M takes two things more serious than everything else – football and ROTC and I did both. I would like to say I excelled at both, but that wouldn’t be the truth. ROTC became far more important to me as first one minor injury after another kept me on the bench. I would overcome an injury, only to get the stuffing knocked out of me the next game and be back on my butt. They wanted me to add fifty pounds and it just wasn’t happening and when everyone around you is heavier, you get hurt.

In ROTC I held the rank of major and upon graduation I was offered a rare commission as a first lieutenant in the United States Army as an infantry commander (in training). This means I would go to airborne school after officer candidate school in my rank, but would be treated as a trainee along with everyone else. It didn’t matter, as the first week in I was leading the platoon in almost every category. I took to the army so well because of being raised on a farm and hard work. On top of that, I am a quiet man who actually listens to instructions. Dad and Pike taught me this working with farm equipment, which incidentally is quite dangerous if done wrong or without thought.

The simplest things I took for granted were unknown to those around me and most had never skinned a squirrel or cleaned a deer. They also did not have my level of stamina. I was a stand-out and was rewarded accordingly by them pushing me harder than the other trainees.

Ranger school was next and my past injuries continued to plague me, but I made it through the run phase graduating the highest in my group. The commanding colonel specifically visited me in my quarters and asked me to go to special forces school. She was very convincing, especially when she ran her hand between my legs after locking the door. It was the first woman I had since joining the army and I had her grunting like Lucy Criner in short order. It all happened so fast I emptied out my seed inside her and she abruptly left to take a fuckin’ pill, but not before she kissed me long and hard and told me she would be watching my career.

I was surprised to find out my orders were already awaiting me the next morning and I shipped out a week before graduation, fully qualified and already graduated. I later learned this had only been done in a time of desperate need. I was the first to be graduated on skills and knowledge alone. Besides, special forces school wouldn’t wait.

The next class was starting in two days at Fort Bragg and I was expected to be in formation when it begins. I was there on time and joined the other wannabe commandos. Over the course I was trained to command a twelve man team in rapid response situations. Along the way I also took advanced German and Arabic language classes where I learned to read, write, and speak the languages. I was surprised how fast I picked up German. It turned out that I had an aptitude for languages that I did not know I possessed.

I had been in the army almost one year to the day and graduated third in my class. The first two were both on their third enlistments and both had washed out of the class on injuries before. Both were alpha males who within a few years kept me alive or vice versa and we formed an unbreakable brotherhood bond.

----

Major... I am sorry, but this last series of tests are going to block you from continuing to serve. These are the words I knew were coming, but thought I might be able to bluff my way through the psych profile team’s scrutiny. The attractive blond captain stares into my eyes and there is true compassion there and not something I miss. Over the years I’ve became very astute in reading people and this gal has done everything possible over the last two months to help me get me back on duty. I am twenty-eight years old and will go on the one hundred per cent disabled list at the VA.

The army says I’m too fucked up in the head to kill for them, right Captain? I say angrily and regret it instantly, as it shows just how right they are. I look at my fists and they are clenched so hard my fingers are white.

Captain Marsha Landry takes a step back and also regrets her reaction. In the last two months she’s grown very fond of her patient and under different circumstances would probably date him if he asked. He is a very big man with lots of tattoos of his violent trade and strikingly handsome to boot. She is five one and weighs one hundred and four very trim pounds, with a serious mismatch in their bodies. More than once she wondered if she could accommodate a man of his… well, she has thought it, but now he’s scaring her.

I am truly sorry Captain Landry. I am taking out my frustration on you instead of the system, which we both know has enough history with PTSD to know when it’s time to stop someone. I look at her. She’s very cute and the absence of a wedding ring tells me she isn’t married. Would you have dinner with me tonight? I suddenly ask and watch her suck in her breath. Her breasts are modest, but they rise up, stretching her uniform pleasingly.

She blushes and before she can stop herself, she agrees. Fuck! she says to herself. Why did she agree? She will be breaking a rule she has always kept sacred. Do not date your patients! She’s been in the army eight years and at twenty nine years of age, never been married. She was engaged twice and both times to army officers who proved they could not keep their dick in their pants. She had a brief affair of a couple of months with a female nurse, but after the woman shipped out, she broke it off with women. Although she enjoyed their time together, she is convinced it was a onetime experiment and not her true cup of tea.

She has no idea where he plans to take her and just about the time she chooses a fairly immodest black dress, her phone rings. Hi, this is Cub. I forgot to tell you I planned on a quiet meal at a great Cajun restaurant I know in South Houston. Dress comfortably and I’ll see you in an hour.

Click.

She looks at the skimpy dress and shakes her head and laughs in relief. She has no idea in four hours she will have her feet hooked on the back of his muscular thighs and vulgarly begging him to do me harder.

----

Marsha watches the big muscular man walk cat-like toward the shower and in the bathroom light sees the four long scars on his back. On the left side are two ugly pucker marks and she knows from looking at his record that he has numerous Purple Heart medals. The long