The officer looked over the prisoner standing in front of him. The man was over six feet tall, with jet-black hair, which was cut high and tight, and golden-tanned skin. His head was lowered, and the officer could see the well-defined cables of neck muscles. The large man looked well-fed and finely-muscled, a very unusual state for most of the prisoners he was used to seeing.
"Where are you from? What did you do before being sent here?"
"I lived on a small farm. I also made furniture at one time," the man replied softly, not raising his head
The officer smiled slightly to himself and rose from his desk chair. He walked toward the prisoner. The prisoner remained still. The officer walked behind him, reached his hand out and shook the prisoner's handcuffs. The man didn't even flinch. The officer slightly chuckled, walking back behind his desk.
He leaned against a large file cabinet, resting his arm on the top of it, his fingers tapped impatiently.
"So what is your name?"
"I think you know that," the man slightly muttered, rubbing his whiskered chin on his shirt collar, barely moving his head.
"I didn't hear that. What is your name?"
"Jacopo," the prisoner spat out hoarsely.
"So Jacopo, you were a wood-worker and a farmer. From the report I see that you could have easily eluded us, it seems you lived rather deep in the forest. When my men arrived, you neither ran nor fought them. There was a dead body, and you knew they would arrest you. You just stood there and gave up. Very odd. Now why was that? Answer me."
"I knew nothing. I had been away for awhile and just returned. I had just come upon the body. I lived a quiet life away from the news."
"Did you live there alone?"
"No."
"Oh, really? Who did you live with?" the officer asked, slightly tilting his head.
"Another man named Matthias," Jacopo said flatly, then growled softly, "he stayed behind while I was gone."
The officer saw a noticeable tightening of Jacopo's neck muscles, he didn't see the cuffed hands clench tightly against the metal.
"We weren't able to identify the body. Too badly damaged. Did you do that? Did you kill the man?"
"No."
"Who did?"
"I don't know."
"Was it Matthias?"
"I don't know. I had left him there alone."
"So Jacopo and Matthias, two men living together away from society," the officer said looking toward the wall and shaking his head as if in deep thought. He then looked back at Jacopo and clapped his hand against the top of the file cabinet. "I've got it! You two must have been homosexual." He waved his fingers comically in the air. "A couple of flopsy-wopsy woodworkers! I can imagine that you worked his wood quite well, yes?"
Jacopo raised his head and glared hard at the officer. His jaw tightened, causing the muscles to jump out, his short whiskers stood out.
"And then one day, you turned on him...out of embarrassment. Regret, maybe? Passion? You killed him." The officer tilted his head. "Did he not suck your cock well enough out there in the woods? Did he not submit his ass to you quick enough?"
The officer chuckled and walked toward Jacopo. He reached out a leather-gloved hand and patted the side of Jacopo's face.
Jacob felt his face turn red. He gritted his teeth.
"Calm down, fancy boy," he urged with a grin, "I'm not going hurt you." He laughed and walked back to his desk.
He sat down at his desk and rustled through some papers.
"Actually, I'm going to put you to good use. Use that strong body, no reason to let it go to waste in some detention camp or jail cell," he said, looking up at Jacopo. He smiled at prisoner.
Jacopo had lowered his head again.
"Oh, look at me, Jacopo. I am doing you a favour."
Jacopo raised his head and stared blankly at the officer. He didn't care anymore what was going to happen to him.
"Andreas!" the officer shouted at the soldier outside the office door.
Andreas came in and pushed at Jacopo to move him aside. The larger man was hardly shifted.
"Andreas, take this prisoner to my house. Tell John to put him to work in the garden and make a cell for him in the basement yourself."
"Sir, yes, Sir!" he replied, yanking on the handcuffs, motioning for Jacopo to move.
"Jacopo, my name is Captain Horst, Captain Peter Horst. Welcome, Jacopo!" he shouted after the prisoner. "I hope you enjoy your stay with us."
As he walked away, the captain's laughter rang in Jacopo's ears. He gritted his teeth to try to shut it out.
Horst looked out the window down to the garden. He noticed that the mounds of debris created by past bombs and by his own demolition means seemed to be shrinking. No one would ever question his story about rebel saboteurs trying to get to him, and so he needed a clear view with no places for them to hide; anyway, he didn't care, he just wanted a larger garden. The houses had belonged to the losing side anyway, so no love lost there.
His eyes rested on Jacopo. Andreas caught his attention, jumping around shouting orders at the prisoner. Horst could tell that the young pretty soldier was enjoying ordering the larger man around the garden. He observed that Jacopo paid as much attention to the young blond soldier was much as a bull gave to a fly, only flinching when stung by the young man's metal prod.
In the heat of the afternoon, Jacopo had been working wearing only workpants and large boots. Horst had just stepped out of the shower and was watching from a window upstairs in his suite. He was much impressed with Jacopo's huge muscled frame. Sweat rolled down his face to his massive chest covered in a thick patch of dark hair. His large arms bounded with large rounds of muscle, the blood vessels thick with blood supplying the hard flesh with power to accomplish the sheer amount of work they had to do. Horst watched Jacopo's back muscles steel themselves as he lifted the large rounds of concrete, watching them flare as they fought with his broad shoulders to raise and move the debris.
Horst rubbed a hand across his own chest imagining it was Jacopo's rough hand. He pinched at his nips, and felt his cock pushing against the towel around his waist. The towel loosened by his growing erection, fell to the floor.
The captain's hand moved down to the hardness. He caught a drip of precum and rubbed it into the head of his cock, imagining Jacopo's tongue lapping at it. Outside Jacopo bend over to move a piece of metal, exposing the cleft of his ass, Horst pushed his hip forward in an automatic response. He encircled his cock with his hand. He wanted to put it into the hole at the center of that muscled ass. He wanted to feel that warm hole giving way to his hard cock. He wanted to dominate it, to make it his to use.
He spit into his hand and jerked his cock harder. He imagined Jacopo on his back begging to get fucked harder and screaming for his asshole to be used by the captain. He wanted to make Jacopo crave his thick cock every time he saw him.
Horst began to thrust his cock hard into his hand. He could smell the precum and spit frothing together from the friction of his hand, soon to be joined by the pungent odor of his cum. His nuts tightened as he watched Jacopo wipe the sweat from his underarms. He bucked his hips as his load shot out, hitting the window in front of him.
He reached to the window and smeared his fresh cum over the image of Jacopo below him. He laughed thinking about the maid cleaning up his mess.
Captain Horst had been away for several days and had been impressed by the progress that had been accomplished in the garden while he was gone. He had congratulated John and had dictated his further ideas. He had been informed of Jacopo's behavior in his absence and made his way to the basement.
He slowly descended down the basement stairs with loud deliberate clomps. He had learned that in his absence Jacopo had been causing a bit of trouble in the evenings. He was told that his prisoner had been wreaking the contents of his cell at night.
John told that any dishes or other objects in the cell had been thrown at the wall or otherwise totally destroyed. In order to prevent further damage to the room or even to he himself, they had taken to handcuffing Jacopo in the evenings when he was in his room.
