Naked and The Recurrence

By M. H. Keplar

A man in a position of authority discovers that he has a liking, no, a need, to surrender to pain and sexual humiliation when he is a prisoner of war. In the second story, back home and employed in law enforcement, he seeks out those very needs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. H. Keplar
• Release date: Jun 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005768713

M. H. Keplar

I've written two books. Both are records of fantasies as contrasted with a book authored to appeal to a particular market. I didn't expect to write another one, but a few months after the publication of Twelve Maxbridge Street, I experienced two more fantasies that I published together as Naked and The Recurrence. Please read the Afterward of Twelve Maxbridge Street for the rather unusual details of the genesis of the first book.I find that I make changes now and then. If you like the book, you might download it again before re-reading.

Book preview

Naked and The Recurrence

Two Short Stories

By

M. H. Keplar

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2021 by M. H. Keplar

All Rights Reserved.

Version 9 NOT YET PUBLISHED

Table of Contents

Naked

Foreword

Day One

Day Two

Day Three

Day Four

The Recurrence

Afterword

Appendix

Naked

FOREWORD

This is a record of a fantasy, not an attempt to describe a real life POW situation, about which I know almost nothing.

DAY ONE

The sun was hot and the air dry. Lt. Luke Henderson stood naked on the packed gritty earth in the center of a semi-circular amphitheater. About twenty-five feet in front of him a dozen or so enemy soldiers lounged in plastic Adirondack chairs. Where did they get those? Drinks were on small tables beside them. About twenty feet to their left Miller, DeAngelo and Beaubain sat on their heels in front of three soldiers who held them by their hair with knives at their throats. The translator had made it crystal clear that one of them would have his throat slit if Henderson resisted them in any way, which was why he remained motionless even though he was not physically restrained. The implication of having three there was that they could move on to another man if one had to be killed.

Fifty feet off to his right was a cage, built into the foundation of the amphitheater. The front of it was a barred wall with a similarly barred door in the center, so that everything inside the cage was visible from the outside. The remains of his platoon were there. Less than two dozen men, no non-coms left.

Blood from the several small wounds on his chest and thighs had dried. The wounds happened when his clothes were cut off of him with knives. Poor prospects for getting dressed again.

The expressions on his three comrades' faces were stoic, as was his. His mind was as empty as the landscape. There was no point in trying to guess what would happen next. He concentrated on his resolve to do whatever it took to save his men. He straightened a bit.

Five men in the group of enemy soldiers stood up and began to walk toward him. Three were dressed in fatigues, one in a service uniform, and the other, his demeanor suggesting he was of a higher rank, was dressed in a Hawaiian