Military School Training and Management

By Jordan Project

Published on Aug 12, 2023

Gay

This story is fiction. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. It's copyrighted 2020 by The Jordan Project, all rights reserved outside of Nifty. The reader comes first, so I welcome feedback. Please take some time to provide it to JordanProject@protonmail.com. What works? What doesn't work?


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"Your father thought it would cure you, but it didn't cure you did it, Jimmy?" I heard Tommy say, his words snapping me back to the present.

"I thought it did, sir," I replied. "I never wanted that again, sir."

"But you kept getting hard-ons for Men, didn't you?" Tommy asked, his voice firm.

"Yes sir," I replied, "but I never did anything, because I knew it was wrong. As long as I didn't do anything, I figured I wasn't a queer, sir."

Tommy relaxed, leaned back, and flashed one of those grins of his.

"But you know that wasn't really true, Jimmy," he said. "You still get hardons for Men."

"Yes sir," I said, utterly humiliated.

"You've been looking at Men's gear ever since and wanting it, and getting hard haven't you?"

"Yes sir," I said, softly.

"And beating that little excuse for a pecker of yours too," he said, flashing another grin, his voice playful and mocking. "Right, Jimmy?"

"Yes sir," I replied.

"Knowing how wrong it is, but not being able to control yourself," Tommy said.

"Yes sir," I said.

"Those queer hard-ons of yours are wrong and they always will be," Tommy said.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I stared at the ground again.

"Look at me," he said, his voice now firm and his jaw set in a fatherly mask.

"I'm sorry sir," I said, staring up.

"It's wrong sir, but I can't help it, sir!"

Tommy's face softened slightly. He leaned over, rubbed my shoulder, and spoke gently.

"People like your father, and Captain Tinley, and the Commandant, despise you, Jimmy, but I don't," he said. "There's a lot of things wrong that people can get used to, but they'll never change."

"Sir," I pleaded through watery eyes, "what can I do?"

"Remember what you are and what you are not," Tommy answered. "Nothing belongs to you, not even that little dick. Your hard-ons are wrong, you're queer, and you'll never be a Man."

"Yes sir," I replied. "I think I know that now."

"I own you Jimmy," he said, gently. "Every last part of you. Remember your place, and you'll get through it. I'm all that stands between you and a world of hurt. No one except me understands."

"Yes sir," I said. I was exhausted, and it showed in my voice.

Tommy handed me another candy bar and smiled, this time not mocking me.

"I know it's not easy, Jimmy," he said. "But as long as you behave and obey me, I'll make sure you get what you need."

I collapsed forward, and held onto Tommy's strong thighs, my face buried in his lap. I noticed he had not completely lost his erection from screwing me, and I was comforted by the lump pressing against my cheek.

"Thank you sir," I said as I wept. "Thank you!"

He stroked my head gently.

"You did real, real good today by not getting hard," he said, tenderly. "That's the boy you're required to be. You're not allowed to get hard without my permission."

"Thank you sir," I said again. "I'll try as hard as I can not to, sir!"

He stood up, and put his hands on his hips.

"Undo my fly," he ordered. "Then take it out and put it in your mouth."

"Yes sir," I said, wondering whether Tommy would be screwing me again. I found his half-soft dick and rested it in my mouth. I battled an erection, successfully, and soon felt my throat filling up. Tommy was doing what Big Dog has done before. He pissed hard, and I swallowed every drop. When Tommy was finished, he pulled his penis out of my mouth without a word, and zipped himself up.

"You got work to do," he said, rubbing my head.

"Yes sir," I replied. "Thank you, sir."

"Atta boy," he said. He affectionately rubbed my the top of my head with his knuckles, and then patted my cheek.

"Get to it, then," he said, as he turned to leave.

I don't even know if he heard me answer, "Yes sir," but that's what I said.


Just as before, this shattering experience was followed by calm routine. My existence as a Trainee was lonely and deeply humiliating, and Big Dog was a constant threat. He found ways to knock me around, sometimes for no reason at all. And he settled into a habit of using my mouth a few times a week, pissing and coming down my throat whenever the urge struck him. He'd always check to see if I had goten hard, but I managed to keep from doing so.

I definitely wanted to avoid the sort of beatings Big Dog liked to give, but it wasn't really my fear of them that kept me soft. Tommy was the key, really. I was his, and that included everything. The strict Trainee routine had eliminated any need to think about my days, and Tommy and his dick had obliterated the rest. I felt a kind of serenity, knowing that I needed only to walk a certain path.

He established a routine of his own. Every Sunday afternoon, while Big Dog was gone, he'd shave me down and screw me deep. I wasn't getting hard then, either. I was beyond merely complying with the rules. I had lost my sense of self, in a way. I was his. All of me. He would determine what happened.

The longer I went without a real hard-on or orgasm, as opposed to having my prostrate gland milked by Tommy's enormous dick, the more bonded I felt. I felt myself regressing to an earlier state of being, like when I was really just a boy. I was happy to have my sexual thoughts or impulses replaced by a general devotion to Tommy and his approval. I found myself becoming ever more sensitive to slight variations in the tone of his voice, and gestures. Day by day, my life became consumed by the desire to serve him – but with an edge, because biologically, I was still an adult male.

Weeks went by, and the edge grew stronger. It became more difficult to keep myself soft on those Sundays, until finally I broke.

I'm not sure how long it was since the time I had ridden his boot. Two months, maybe? It hadn't been a problem, and in fact it had been a comfort, to restrain myself both with Tommy and Big Dog. But I could feel something growing within me, like a rain cloud in the Western sky drawing closer.


We were on the deck, Tommy seated above and me below. He went through the week, praising me for having done my chores, and for avoiding any hard-ons. I expected this to be followed by another screwing. I was worried, because I wasn't sure I'd be able to remain soft. Soon, we were back in his room, me naked and lying flat on my back on my pad on the floor, and him holding the electric razor. I put my arms up when he told me to.

"Hair's a Man thing, Jimmy," he said, gently. "Not for you."

"Yes sir," I replied, softly, having heard it before. I had started to welcome the ritual, and I thanked him when he finished with my arm pits and moved lower. He lingered around my nipples, playfully squeezing one while he went. Frantically, I battled an urge as he moved lower. He shaved the stubble around my pubic bone, and lifted my dick to find any stray hairs.

"Never was much of anything here, but it never hurts to check," he said with a chuckle. I found his easy dominance seductive.

"Okay, elbows and knees, legs spread," he said. As I moved to the position that had become familiar, he playfully patted my rear end and then shaved my thighs. He moved closer and closer to my balls, and I felt myself losing control. But he didn't seem to notice, and kept going as always. He held my balls in his hand, squeezing lightly. I felt myself beginning to stiffen, and started to hyperventilate.

"It o.k., Jimmy," he said gently, his grasp of my balls conveying parental authority. "I know you've been trying."

"I'm sorry, sir," I whined, breathlessly. "I know it's wrong but I can't help it!"

His fingers stroked my balls.

"These ain't nothin'," he said, chuckling softly. I stiffened completely.

"They aren't even half as big as a Man's, and there's never been much of any hair to shave off," he said. "And that little pecker of yours ain't anything to speak of either. Even when I was a little boy I had more than that."

"Yes, sir," I said, breathing hard and close to weeping.

"But this still gets you in all kinds of trouble, Jimmy," he said, patting my balls lightly. "You try to act like a Man, and that's where it all starts going wrong."

I felt his grip change a bit, and then his thumb pressing against my rectum.

"Even a queer little boy like you needs these drained every month or two," Tommy continued. "But only if he remembers his place. These might be connected to you, but every part of you belongs to me now. And you know why that is, don't you?"

"Yes sir," I whimpered, my small erection throbbing from the manipulation.

"I am not a Man. I was never a Man. I will never be a Man. Every Man is my superior," I recited. "I will spend my life in the service to the Men whose ranks I will never join. I will honor and obey Men, without question or reservation, in any manner that they might require."

"Little boy's been learning how to obey, haven't you now?"

"I've been doing my best, sir!" I pleaded.

"Your very best?" he asked gently. His hand tightened hard around my scrotum as his thumb pressed my rectum.

"Yes sir, my very best!" I whimpered. "I've been trying so hard, sir!"

"Remember, Jimmy, this ain't nothing compared to what a Man's got, so never go thinkin' you're a Man," he said. "You'll get stiff when I decide you need to. This'd be a good time to concentrate on being the most obedient boy you can be, and how grateful you are to the Man who knows what you need."

"Yes sir," I replied. "Thank you, sir! Thank you!"

He relaxed his grip and left the room as I breathed heavily. Within seconds, he returned with the bag I had seen a couple months before. He brought out the belt, and the rubber plug, and the lotion.

"You know what to do," he said.

"Yes sir," I replied. "Thank you sir!"

"That's a good Jimmy," he said. "Now put the belt on and put your plug inside."

I followed his orders, and waited for him to cinch me up tight.

"There you go," he said. "Pull up your pants, Jimmy. Can't keep it bottled up forever, can we now?"

"No sir," I said, softly, looking down.

"Stand up and look at me, Jimmy," Tommy said, his tone now firm. As I rose, I drank in his tall, lean frame, encased in his tight uniform. I stared at his face. His exuded the sort of tolerance for my weakness that comes from complete superiority. He was also erect, but there was no equality or similarity. I was an ant, and he was a giant – a different species. A Man to be worshipped from below and afar.

"Come on," he said, leading me out to the deck. As I walked, the plug stimulated me further. Outside, he sat down and stretched his leg out. He motioned me to sit on his boot.

"Back and forth, Jimmy," he said. "I'll let you do this when you've been trying your hardest."

"Thank you sir!" I said, staring past his crotch, and his hard-on stretched out sideways in his gray uniform trousers. His shirt fit like it was painted on. His jaw was square and set.

"Always remember you'll never be a Man, Jimmy," he said.

"I am not a Man, sir. I was never a Man, sir. I will never be a Man, sir. Every Man is my superior, sir," I replied, rocking on his boot and rubbing up against his leg. "I will spend my life in the service to the Men whose ranks I will never join, sir. I will honor and obey Men, without question or reservation, in any manner that they might require, sir."

"Anything you got ain't nothing like this," he said, smiling and patting his thick member through his uniform pants. "You'll never be what I am, Jimmy."

"No sir!" I replied.

"There's one Man here, Jimmy," he said. "You'll do what he tells you. Isn't that right?"

"Yes sir!" I said, rocking harder. "Always sir!"

"You look at what that Man's got," he said. "You'll always obey the Man who's got it."

"Yes sir!" I said. "Thank you sir! I'll always try my hardest, sir!"

"Your little squirt gun will only get you in trouble," Tommy said. "You will never, ever let yourself get stiff unless I tell you to."

"Yes sir!" I said, panting, and squeezing.

"Everything you are and everything you got belongs to me," he said, firmly. "You will never get stiff unless I tell you to, not ever."

"No sir," I pleaded. "I won't, sir!"

He had been raising and lowering his boot, and now he pressed down on my shoulders as he raised his boot, driving the plug farther in.

"Look straight in my eyes, Jimmy," he said, roughly.

"Yes sir!" I replied, barely able to contain myself.

"You're a weak little boy, Jimmy," he said.

"Yes, sir, I am weak, sir," I replied as I panted and sniffled.

"You'll never be a Man," he said, staring holes into me. "A weak little boy obeys the Man who owns him, Jimmy."

"Yes sir!" I said, squealing. "I'm a weak little boy, sir!"

He pressed down harder.

"I own every piece of you," he said, staring hard and his voice firm. "I own you. I own you ..."

It became a hypnotic cadence, the rhythm of his words matching the pumping of his boot as he told me, over and over, that he owned me. He jammed downward on my shoulders, and then I could bear it no more. I felt a shattering and explosive orgasm, and fluid in my underwear as I rubbed up against his leg, praying. I had collapsed on his thigh, my cheek resting against his stiff dick, and could hear him only dimly.

"I own you," he repeated, "I own you ... I own you ... I own you ..."

Finally, exhausted, I managed some words.

"You own me sir," I panted, weakly. "Thank you sir. Thank you sir. I'll try my hardest, sir ..."


I don't remember how much time passed until it happened, but at some point Tommy and Big Dog started getting visits from some girls. I still don't know where they came from, but I do know that it made them excited. For a couple weeks before the first time, they couldn't stop talking about it.

"Damn!" I heard Big Dog tell Tommy one night, "it's about time I got to screw some actual pussy!"

"No shit," Tommy answered. "Finally, the real thing."


After it happened, I was deeply worried. Everything about it: my outright queer attraction to Tommy, my breaking the rules, my fear that I'd somehow be caught. It was as if a dam had broken, and my urges flooded me. It hadn't helped matters that I hadn't worn the plug and rocked on Tommy's boot for four weeks. And after their dates, both Tommy and Big Dog were horny all the time and had each taken to using my mouth every night, while expecting me to stay soft. Every night, I woke up hard. I managed to fight the erections, and after a few days it felt like they might start to go away.

But my difficulty showed, and I began forgetting small aspects of my duties. Big Dog slapped me around for sloppy work on his boots, and Tommy yelled when I forgot to recite my Trainee Oath one night. I was having difficulty concentrating on my course work, and was reprimanded by an instructor for it. Late in the week, Tommy confronted me in our quarters.

"You're hiding something," he said. "Or at least you are trying to."

"N-n-n-no sir," I answered, unsteadily as I stood in front of him, staring upward. "I don't know what's happening, sir."

"Don't try to bullshit a Man!" he shouted, with a force that startled me. "What have you done now, you conniving coward? I'm going to find out, so the sooner you tell me the better! Out with it, you little shithead. Now!"

"S-s-s-s-sir, I ..."

He slapped my head, hard.

"That's not how you talk here," he said, coldly. I knew I was in real trouble.

"S-s-s-s-sir, the Trainee ... the Trainee ..."

I couldn't get the words out. Another slap, harder.

"The Trainee what," he barked.

"It was wrong, sir, and the Trainee is sorry, sir!" I pleaded. "Please, sir ..."

"What!" he barked again. He started slapping me. "What! What! What the fuck did you do?"

"Sir, when you and Captain Tinley were at the ball, I was queer ..."

I broke down, whimpering.

"You mean to tell me that you and Trainee Davis," he said with a steady yet barely controllable rage, "the two of you ... what did the two of you do?"

"The Trainee ... I ... the Trainee got erect with Trainee Davis, sir," I blurted out. "The Trainee know it was wrong ..."

I poured out the whole story of how, after he and Big Dog had left us, Davis had propositioned me, and I had accepted. How I was hard the whole time, but lost my erection when Davis couldn't keep his.


"Which of the two of you made the first move?" he asked.

"Trainee Davis did, sir," I replied, softly.

"How did Trainee Davis approach you?" he asked.

"He sat down next to the Trainee and asked the Trainee if the Trainee would like to suck his dick, sir," I replied.

"Did he touch you?" I was asked.

"Trainee Davis put his hand on the Trainee's leg, and then between his legs, sir," I replied.

"Were you erect at that time?" I was asked.

"No sir," I replied.

"But then you became erect?" I was asked.

"Yes sir," I replied.

"And you stayed erect?"

"Yes sir," I replied.

"And then what?"

"The Trainee told Trainee Davis yes the Trainee would like to, sir," I replied. "The Trainee couldn't control himself, sir. The Trainee knows it was wrong, and the Trainee ..."

"Yes, I know," he said. "But you did it anyway."

"Yes sir," I said.

"And the next day you reported your violation of the rules to Captain Tinley, and he brought you here," he said.

"Yes sir," I replied. "The Trainee is sorry sir. There was no excuse, sir."

For the first time since I had signed the papers committing myself to become a Trainee, I was in the Commandant's office. Tommy was there, and so was Captain Harlan, the Top assigned to supervise Trainee Davis, who was also there.

"You had an erection, but not to completion?" the Commandant asked.

"That is correct, sir," I replied.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Trainee Davis lost his erection and started crying, sir," I replied. "Then the Trainee lost his."

"What did Trainee Davis tell you at that point?" the Commandant asked.

"He said they ... Captain Harlan, sir ... had gotten to Trainee Davis and he couldn't be a Man, sir," I replied. "Trainee Davis was very upset."

"And then what happened?" the Commandant asked.

"The Trainee returned to what the Trainee had been doing – studying his classwork, sir," I replied. "The Trainee was also thinking about how the Trainee had broken Captain Tinley's rules, sir, and his Trainee oath. The Trainee was very worried, sir. It was wrong, sir."

The Commandant turned to Davis, who was shivering with fright.

"Trainee Davis, is Trainee Stingler's account of that night true?"

"Yes sir," I heard him answer, his voice soft and shaking.

"Is there anything to add to what he has said here?" the Commandant said. His tone was sterner with Davis than it had been with me.

"The Trainee should have known better, sir," he said quietly. "The Trainee should have known ..."

"Should have known what?" the Commandant snapped.

"That the Trainee could never be a Man, sir," Davis replied.

"I think it goes considerably beyond that," the Commandant replied.

"That the Trainee was never intended to be male in any way, sir," he said, with a whimper. "Maybe the Trainee just wanted to make sure, sir."

"And now?" the Commandant asked.

"The Trainee doesn't know, sir," Davis replied.

"Oh, I think you know, Trainee Davis," the Commandant said. "I think you know very well."

I heard Davis gasp and begin to breathe hard.

The Commandant rose from his chair. I had forgotten how powerfully built and handsome he was. There was a hint of an erection below his belt buckle as he stood up. He walked across the room to a cabinet somewhere behind us. I could hear metallic rattling, and shortly he returned and sat on the edge of his desk. His seating position pushed his genitals outward, and I could see his large, half-hard dick outlined against the fabric of his uniform. I tried not to look, but I was hypnotized. I felt lucky that the Commandant was looking away as he spoke.

"Trainee Davis, on Monday you will meet with Dr. Mueller. He will explain the procedures, and take you to Denver to begin your transition," the Commandant said. "In earlier days you'd simply have been castrated, but medicine has advanced. You will be given hormones that will change your body and your voice before the operation."

Davis broke down.

"Sir, please don't ..."

"You knew this was coming," the Commandant said, his tone softening.

Davis began to weep. What he thought had been a game was going to become real.

"I ... I ... the Trainee ... I ... the Trainee can't ..."

"Oh yes you can," the Commandant replied, his tone remote and imperious. "It will be difficult at first, but much better in the end."

"Sir, please, sir," he pleaded. "The Trainee will never do it again, sir!"

"Oh yes, you can say that again," the Commandant replied. "You will never do it again."

Davis dropped onto his knees in front of the Commandant, crying.

"Sir, I'm ... the Trainee is begging you, sir," he cried, his voice rising to a high-pitched whine.

"Now, now," the Commandant replied. "Captain Harlan tells me you've been a good girl most of the time. hat happened with Trainee Stingler ought to tell you that any kind of manhood was never in the cards for you."

"But ... but ... the Trainee never thought ..."

"You pledged an oath," the Commandant said, harshly. "A Trainee never leaves, and you knew that."

"Sir, but this?" Davis pleaded through his tears. "Please not this, sir!"

The devastated Trainee collapsed to the floor, sobbing quietly. I was frozen somewhere between terror that the same would happen to me, and sympathy for Davis. I stayed silent as the Commandant returned to his chair, placed some hardware on his desk, and sat down.

"Trainee Davis, get up and sit in your chair," the Commandant ordered. Davis followed the command, sniffling as he did.

"When you requested to stay here at a Trainee, you were given several chances to leave," he said. "I advised you to go, and to find a place elsewhere. But you insisted on staying here. Is that not correct?"

"Yes sir," Davis answered, softly.

"I told you that your status would outlast the academy and be lifelong, correct?" the Commandant continued.

"Yes sir," Davis replied.

"And we both know what behavior caused me to invite you to leave?" the Commandant said. "The transvestitism, the confusion?"

"Yes sir," Davis said, softly.

"I told you that, if you became a Trainee, you'd have a place but not as a Man, did I not?" the Commandant said.

"I ... I ... the Trainee didn't think it ... it ... would ..."

Davis's voice trailed off.

"Captain Harlan tells me that you have responded well to being his girl," the Commandant said. "Did he misinform me?"

"B-b-but ..."

Cadet Captain Harlan spoke up.

"The Captain requests permission to speak, sir," Harlan said.

"Go right ahead," the Commandant replied.

"Sir, may I address Trainee Davis directly?" he asked.

"Go right ahead," the Commandant repeated.

The tall, muscular cadet with a dark blond flattop crewcut, a razor-sharp jaw, and piercing blue eyes, smiled and spoke gently.

"Everything the Commandant has said is true and you know that, don't you?" Harlan asked.

"Y-y-yes sir," Davis replied in a quivering voice.

"But you're still afraid, aren't you?" he asked.

"Y-y-y-yes sir," the Trainee replied. "What will people at home ..."

"That's what I thought," Harlan replied. "You're not really afraid of being my girl, you're afraid of anyone knowing, aren't you?"

"Yes sir," Davis said. "It was bad enough before, but now ..."

"No one at home will ever find out," the Commandant said, interrupting. "All anyone in your home town will ever know is that you were in a training accident and were burned beyond recognition. You will have a new name, and you will be Captain Harlan's girl forever."

The Commandant paused to let the words sink in.

"You should also know that the decision to convert you was Captain Harlan's," the Commandant said. "I recommended it, but as your owner Captain Harlan had the final say, just as he will always have the final say. Just as Trainee Stingler here will always be subject to the absolute authority of Captain Richards."

The Commandant paused again. Then Harlan spoke gently to Davis.

"You've been my girl for quite a while here, and you know that's what's best," he said. "I know you're not queer like Trainee Stingler over there, and most of the Trainees. After you've made the change, things will be much better."


After Harlan and Davis had left the room, the Commandant sat on the edge of his desk and addressed the two of us.

"Captain Richards, I'm going to make some changes and some recommendations," he said. "Of course, you'll be free to manage Trainee Stingler as you see fit, but I think you'll find that what I suggest will be effective."

"I'm sure it will, sir," Tommy said. "Trainee Stingler's behavior has vexed me, so I welcome any ideas, sir."

"Trainee Davis's violation was predictable, and the solution will work in that case," the Commandant said. "But Stingler here is different. His is not a case of a female mistakenly engineered by nature. He is a male, with a Man's equipment however stunted. But he's queer, and quite a while back requested life-long supervision. He will always lust after Men, wrong as it might be. Captain, your task will be to make certain that Stingler's perversion not spread, or be shared, or be casually indulged in."

"Yes sir," Tommy replied, firmly. "Commandant, I thought I had him under control."

"Unfortunately, a queer will always lie and evade," the Commandant said. "He will take advantage of your trust and good nature whenever he can."

"I can see that now, sir," Tommy replied.

"You will need to exercise sole control over Trainee Stingler, so I am going to move Captain Tinley out of your barracks immediately," the Commandant said. "It is time that discipline and encouragement be combined rather than separated as they've been."

"Yes sir, that makes sense, sir," Tommy replied. I realized that the Commandant had been more involved than I knew.

The he handed the pieces of metal he'd withdrawn from the cabinet to Captain Richards.

"This goes with the the belt you already have," the Commandant said. So he knew about those sessions where I rode Tommy's boot. "It attaches to the ring in front, and will hold the Trainee's genitals, making an erection painful. It secures with a lock and a key. I think you will find it most effective if worn all day and all night. It should be removed for cleaning once a day, then reattached."

"Yes sir, I'll make sure of it," Tommy replied. At that point, the Commandant went back around his desk and produced the small duffel bag that held the other "appliances" that Tommy had used on me. All of this had obviously been prearranged.

"Whether attached to a boy or to a Man, testicles have one function," the Commandant continued. "They are the source of a male's energy. That energy can be directed toward sexual stimulation and release, or redirected toward obedience. Trainee Stingler's sexual bent is queer, so stimulation and release must be redirected. Captain, I'm sure you've noticed that, when he has complied with his rules, Stingler has been enthusiastic and obedient, at least for a period of time."

"Yes sir, that's true," Tommy replied. "But it doesn't last."

"That's correct, Captain," the Commandant said. "At some point, his energy builds and his weakness takes over. He becomes cowardly, devious, and untrustworthy, and at some point the tension must be released, yet never indulged."

"Yes sir, I realize that now," Tommy said.

"Trainee Stingler must be made to fully realize that his testicles exist for no reason other than to fuel his obedience and diligence," the Commandant said.


As Davis kept sobbing on the floor, the Commandant turned toward me and Captain Tinley, seated next to each other.

"Trainee Stingler, if Trainee Davis had not lost his erection, you would have completed the act?" the Commandant asked, in a voice like a prosecutor's.

"Yes sir, the Trainee probably would have, sir," I replied.

"Why?" he asked.

"The Trainee was out of control, sir," I replied.

"Out of control of what?" the Commandant asked.

"The Trainee was out of control of his queer nature, sir," I replied.

"At least you're finally telling the truth about that," the Commandant replied.

"Captain Tinley, I hope you were listening closely to what just was said," the Commandant said. "No matter how much your Trainee ever appears to obey, your Trainee is a queer who cannot control himself. Always remember that."

"Yes sir!" I heard Tommy reply, with a force that startled me.


The Commandant handed another set of metal pieces to Captain Harlan.

"You fasten this around the root of the Trainee's genitals, clamping both his penis and testicles together ..."

It was some sort of cage that would keep Davis from getting hard.

"Between now and his procedure, you will need to keep an especially close watch," I heard the Commandant tell Harlan. "Your Trainee is going to be moody and petulant at times, and maybe defiant. Keep this device on him at all times, and be sure to keep him away from sharp objects. All of this will pass, but the next few months could be a little rocky."

"Yes sir," the Top said. "But I'm sure she'll get used to everything, sir."

"Yep, I'm sure she will," the Commandant answered lightly, his words provoking more sobs from below. "You might want to start thinking about a new name for Trainee Davis."

"Yes sir, I'll do that," the Top replied.

As Davis kept sobbing on the floor, the Commandant turned toward me and Captain Tinley, seated next to each other.


"We serve our country, but we very much stand apart from it," the Commandant said. "In our corps, there is no equality and there are no rights. There is honor and discipline. There are privileges and prerogatives. There are duties and obligations. There is command and subordination. There is conquest and submission. There is authority and obedience. There is discipline and service. There is a natural rank, and there is service, duty, and obligation, all of it flowing upward in an order as ancient as mankind itself.

"I don't so much determine rank, but discover it. We select candidates who appear most promising, but everyone's rightful place is soon shown here. Most of our corps consists of soldiers, and all of them are superior Men. A select group are leaders, superior to our soldiers. Our elite officers – the cadet captains, known as Tops – are a yet smaller group. From time to time, a leader among them emerges, to be known as a Cadet Major.

"In any four-year period, we admit 680 Candidates. Just under half of them wash out. Half of the wash-outs – about 160 – leave of their own volition, most by the end of Candidate year. Some go because they realized they could not meet our standards, others because our spartan existence is a poor fit. We remain on good terms with all of them, many of whom go on to positions of great prominence in civilian affairs and are counted as our good friends. Of the remaining 160, about half are invited to leave for reasons including physical or mental failure, personal hardship, or an inability to handle the combined rigors of classwork and military training.

"Another 80 cadets prove to be morally unfit. When asked to leave us, and about half of them accept that invitation either immediately or when told they may stay here only as Trainees. Another 25 or request to stay here as Trainees, but most of them leave after having the opportunity to consider the meaning and consequences of the oath a Trainee must take. That leaves about 8 Trainees, of which you are one.

"Each Trainee has a history, but there are factors common to all. All of you are all failures and frauds in every dimension: weakness, dishonesty, innate disobedience, cowardice. All of you are perverted or inverted in some way, having requested even after being told that you must relinquish any past, present, or future claim to Manhood, and a life of service to the Men who you can never be. You are aware of your inferiority, and of the shame it brings. You are drawn to humiliation and punishment like a moth to a light, and to lifelong subservience to the absolute authority of the superior Men who constitute our corps.

"The lineage of our corps goes back for thousands of years. We are older than the Romans, older than the Greeks. We operate by the rule of conquest. We are Alexander the Great, Ghengis Khan. As a Trainee, your purpose is not to reinforce the rules here, as most cadets suspect. You are here to enable teaching the prerogatives, privileges, and consequences of conquest. You are, and will be, what a slave was in ancient times: the property of your owner, subject to his absolute authority, and subordinate to all Men of our corps, forever, in all matters whatsoever.

"Early in a Trainee's experience, he inevitably wonders how his penetration and desire for that and other perversions, can be considered shameful, while the the actions of the Men who do the penetrating are not. The answer is simple. All penetration is conquest, and all conquest is penetration. You will recall our minister's sermons. They preach the dishonor of being conquered. This is ancient truth. Men conquer, and conquest is penetration. To be penetrated is to lose one's Manhood and honor, but for a conqueror to penetrate is ancient. All conquerors throughout the ages have known this, and have penetrated both males and females. It is the ancient order. Your conqueror's prerogative is your shame.

"Trainees are never permitted erections or release in the company of others, or by themselves. When you consented to Trainee Davis's attempts to penetrate you, it was a grave offense against your nature, and the rules that will govern you forever. Your concealment was an act of cowardice, disobedience, dishonesty, and weakness. It will be punished because it must be punished. Your erections will be strictly prevented by means of the device I gave to Captain Richards to be attached to you. He will do his utmost to make certain that you do not have the opportunity to repeat your offense.

"Am I making myself clear, Trainee Stingler?"

"Yes sir," I replied. I have never been hard since.

Next: Chapter 7


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