Uniformed (Patreon)

- Hey, can I come in? We need to talk.

I really didn’t want him in my apartment, nor talk to him at all for that matter. He had been quite upset the last time he confronted me just outside the office. I tried to explain to him that I’m just working together with Jane. We sit a few desks apart, sometimes we eat lunch together, sometimes we have after work together, just like with any other co-worker. He calmed down, but didn’t appear satisfied. “Just watch what you’re doing” was his parting words. I did. I kept more of a distance to Jane, but not to the degree of being impolite. And I wasn’t about to bail the after work pub group whenever she decided to join.

- Sure, come in. Can I get you something? A coffee? A beer?
- I wont be long.

Thank God for that at least. He looked a bit like a college hot shot from a 90′s movie. Indigo jeans, big leather belt, white T-shirt, stone washed jeans jacket and chiseled looks. It was the high and tight fade, over sized black wrist watch and the combat boots that gave it away. That and the stacked body.

- I just want to show you something. Well, teach you something.

That suddenly sounded ominous. He was all calm and cordial now, but I’ve seen him upset, and the civilian clothes couldn’t hide his broad, muscled upper body. He could punch me into pork mince in a second. He held out the plastic bag he was carrying.

- Here. Take off your clothes, all of them, and put this on.

I grabbed the bag and looked down, only to see camo fabric. Why on earth did he want me to put on a military uniform? Was it his? I tried to race through different scenarios in my head. What could he do with me in a uniform. Drag me off somewhere and claim I was off base without permission? That would fall apart immediately. Impersonating an officer? No. My DNA traces, could he use them? Again, nothing. Fuck it, the sooner I do this the sooner he is gone.

- OK, sure. What for?
- I’ll show you. Just put it on.

I went to the bathroom and emptied the bag. A pair of boots, camo trousers and that baseball style combat shirt with a neck zipper. All of it was damp and had a chemical smell to it, like it had been disinfected or something. Was that how they washed uniforms? I did one last pause, but couldn’t come up with a new objection, so I stripped.

I don’t know anything about the military, but I wasn’t used to see trousers with sewed on knee pads. The trousers were a bit too large for me, but I had no problem putting them on. It felt wrong, and cold, to put my feet into the too large boots without socks, but I hastily tied them and could clumsily walk around with them. Finally I put on the shirt and had a look in the mirror. It all looked a bit clownish. Like when a girlfriend put on her boyfriends clothes. If he wanted to point out how much larger and muscled he was, he needed nothing more than standing close to me.

I opened the door and shuffled out into the living room. He was sitting in the good armchair, watching me.

- OK, so what’s the deal here?
- Give it a minute.

I had no clue what we were waiting for. Everything felt like normal, except perhaps that my leg had started to fall asleep. Wait, no, there were tingles in both legs and a bit in my feet as well. Fuck! It must be the disinfectant. He’s pulling some sort of new recruit rookie hazing bullshit on me. Let’s have the new guy put on the uniform and then laugh at him as he gets numb.

- Did you pull a…

I couldn’t say more before my voice went away. My arms and torso was starting to get numb as well. He didn’t change his expression at all, just sitting in the armchair with a slight scowl, staring at me. I wanted to rip it all off my body, before it got even worse. The clothes didn’t move as they should. Even though they were way too large, they moved as if stuck to me, as if they were wet. But I couldn’t grab hold of anything, like I was losing motor control. Whatever was happening was accelerating. My vision was getting blurry and I was aware that I started to sway. Then everything went black and I was slowly feeling my senses slipping away. The last thing I could experience that made any kind of sense was me sort of collapsing on the floor.

It was impossible to tell time, but it felt like a long while of nothingness until I felt a tingle. It quickly built into something I couldn’t really describe, but perhaps having my body caressed is the closest. I was blind, deaf and couldn’t move at all, but I felt touch, taste and smell in some way that didn’t really make sense. It was all very confusing, trying to work out what was happening. I don’t know how, but somehow I recognized his legs, and that he was wearing underwear. Then came his feet. It was like he was putting the entire foot into my mouth, and then his other foot in my other mouth. I started to realize what was happening. I was his uniform and he was getting into it. I could feel his warmth, how he moved, how I moved against his skin.

At first there was a predictable cycle. He would get dressed in me, still slightly damp from a shower, then go about the day, often with little physical activity. But that changed completely about a month ago. In a way I now kind of hate when he do take a shower, because it’s such a glaring contrast to how he normally is, with his musky armpits and hot groin. What really bothers me is that he doesn’t jack off nearly enough as it is. Even though he wears underwear, having him go semi-erect several times a day, in this heat, makes for a bitter taste.

Fuck. This is what my life has been reduced to. Complaining that this grunt moists his boxers when he doesn’t jack off enough.