Military SLUT
by Jon Hold
Copyright ©2008, 2015 by the author
jonhold@earthlink.net
Note: This story, unlike many of mine, is pure fantasy. A fantasy that I've had since I was a young man about the age of the young man in this story, being raised on Marine Corps bases. For those that wish to "protect" young men from "perverts", let me just say that you protected me right out of what I most deeply desired, and still miss... a bunch of older males to teach me and guide me and show me the ways of men. To love me and cherish me and to make me one of their own. So, thank you society, for cheating me out of the one thing I truly wanted, older men to make me one with them. When will Western "Civilization" realize that some of us want to give, not take?
Military SLUT, the story:
Chapter 1
I Join to Serve
The war had been bogged down for two years. No one dared let down their guard, no one dared to back off, no one in charge had much sense especially the politicians with all of their "Special Interest" interests and their warped view of everything. Many thousands of young men had been enlisted or drafted into the military forces and boredom was making them more dangerous to their own side than to the enemy. There was fighting and insubordination and even outright mutiny. They tried bringing in party girls to distract the men, but they just got to fighting over the girls and the girls seemed to be doing their best to set one man against another. That was when Major General Tufferbotm decided to call on the gay population to make their services available to the fighting men of the nation. I was among the first to volunteer.
Because I was so young, having just had my fourteenth birthday, I was required to have my parents permission to join the military auxiliary. There was no problem with Dad. Both my parents were well aware of my sexual preferences, (I came out of the closet at the age of three, having gotten caught sucking a longish line of my male classmates.) and did have a problem with who I chose to be. I had older brothers who were very busy giving my mother grandchildren and Poppa usually just patted my butt and told me to be careful when I went out on a date with the older boys I preferred. My older brothers, under Poppa's tutelage, had carefully and thoroughly instructed me in the art of how to serve another male. I was very happy keeping them happy right up until they got married, and sometimes after as well . Poppa made sure I didn't get hurt in the process and saw to it that both my brothers and I learned what we would need to know to be good men. I loved my brothers and my Poppa, and they loved me. Often!
They all waited up for me the night I had my first "date". He was sixteen and I was just twelve, the youngest Poppa would let any of us date. Erik brought me back on time and Lanny, my oldest brother, invited him in for milk and fresh made cookies while Poppa took me into the bedroom I shared with my older brothers and made sure that I hadn't been physically hurt. When we got back to the kitchen my brothers were sitting around the kitchen table with Erik and he was telling them all about our date. About the soda's and the dancing and about taking me in his newly acquired car (and drivers license, which made my brothers very jealous), down to the river where we had stripped naked and gone skinny dipping before and after I took care of his "manly needs", as he phrased it in front of my mother.
Speaking of whom, my mother didn't want to "lose her baby to the war", but Poppa and my brothers pointed out that the rules for minors such as myself stated that I would have to be stationed at the nearest military establishment and that I would be able to visit home any time I wanted, weekends for sure. Momma cried, but she helped me pack my bags and gave me her view on how to handle men. That was when I found out that Momma had been a Professional Party Girl before falling in love with, and marrying my Poppa. I looked at Poppa with fresh eyes. He'd always just been Poppa. The source of discipline and male wisdom. Now I looked at him wondering what he had that had impresses a PPG so much that she had given up the fast life and married him. I wasn't to find the answer to that question until after Momma died many years later and Poppa took me into his bed.
Momma helped me pack my bag and Poppa walked me to town and helped get me signed up as an official member of the State Lads Unisexual Tempering Service and saw me off on the bus to the SLUTS training school. Poppa kissed me good-bye and even slipped me a little tongue before telling me to take care of my men as if they were my brothers. It was my first time away from home and I cried a little as the bus pulled out. One of the older boys let me sit in his lap and I fell asleep against his shoulder.
The training school was held in a beautiful old villa once owned by the founder of our nations largest newspaper. His heavily homosexual preferences and a decided artistic bent had produced a fantasyland of sensually. Each boy had a private room, to which he was allowed to invite others during free time, although everyone had to be in their own rooms at lights out. My room was something out of the Arabian Nights with draped gauze and multitudinous pillows. I was the youngest at the school during my tenure, but the older boys eagerly joined me in massive pillow fights and gossip sessions after dinner. We had classes in Hygiene, Human Sexuality, the Psychology of Sex, Foreplay—and Afterplay, the Mechanics of Male Sexuality, and The History of Prostitution, among others. Our teachers were retired officers and senior enlisted personnel as well as professors from the nearby State University. Each of us was extensively tested with both written, oral, and physical exams while our sexual experiences and preferences were carefully noted. I was commended many times on the breath of my experience—and eager willingness to experience new and different things I hadn't already encountered and on my willingness to try whatever my partner was interested in performing. Our final exam consisted of a mass orgy where all of our instructors joined their students in a mass display of technique and far-out sexual acts. I was the hit of the show when I got on the central raised bed and fucked our senior instructor while taking two boys in my ass, two instructors in my mouth and a fellow student and our favorite instructor in my hands. My show was capped when one of the instructors came up from behind, wrapped my legs around the two boys fucking me, held my feet together and let me masturbate him with my feet Until he shot off between my feet sending the rest of us off to spurt human seed all over me. I received a standing ovation after I had absorbed all the cum my seven suitors had to offer.
The next morning our post postings were posted and I was elated to discover that I had been assigned to a crack platoon of the elite Marine Corps Raider Battalion currently posted near my parents farm. It was after noon before my bus departed and a long, boring drive (the bus took the long way around to the Marine Corps Base. I was welcomed by a runner from Headquarters and driven directly to my platoons barracks. I was a little intimidated, but the runner was kind. He carried my bags into the barracks and introduced me to Sergeant White, the 35-year-old Platoon Sergeant in charge of my platoon. Sgt. White thanked the runner and took my bags before leading the way to my private room. He helped me stow my stuff and told me that his room was right across the hallway from mine and that I was to call him any time, for ANY reason. He explained to me that the other guys all slept in bunk-beds out in the platoon bay and that I could either go to bed with them out there or invite them, one or more at a time, into my room. I thanked him and he told me that if anyone bothered me or if I had any questions that I was to talk to him IMMEDIATELY. I thanked him and he said that the other guys were all taking their after work shower and asked if I'd like to join them.
I blushed and asked if it would be okay. Sgt. White smiled and said that the men would be very happy to meet me as they had been on their own WAY too long. Then he suggested that I strip naked and grab my towel and that he'd show me the way to the shower. I immediately stripped naked, not bothering with any show of modesty or reluctance, all too eager to meet, meat, and/or be meated by, the young men who were to be my mentors and sex partners. Sgt. White whistled at the smooth slickness of my body and I saw the front of his dungarees lifted by what had to be one of the largest organs I'd run into so far.
One of the instructors had given me a suggestion that had worked wonders for my popularity. I'd always been small, and a little slow to develop. Once I'd shaved my armpits and the little tuft of hair that had grown over my rapidly enlarging sex machinery, I looked just like a little boy (one with a pretty big dick), far from the building pubescence I actually enjoyed. Sergeant White's hands wandered all over my smooth body and I don't think he really noticed that I was undressing him. "You are something else!" he said as he wrapped one of my towels around his waist. He threw another towel for me over his shoulder and took my hand. I smiled my best "little boy" smile and looked up at the handsome sergeant.
"Are you going to be like my Daddy, Sergeant White?"
"You mean, like, be in charge of you and make sure you eat right and get enough sleep and do your work properly?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Do you want me to be your daddy?"
"Are you going to give me a spanking if I'm naughty?"
"Are you planing on being naughty?"
"No, Sir. But sometimes things just happen."
"Does your real daddy spank you when you're naughty?"
I hung my head, "Yes, Sir."
"What would your real Daddy do if he found out I'd given you a spanking?"
"He'd probably give me another spanking for being a bad boy."
"Do you like getting spankings?
"Well... sometimes one of my brothers will give me a pretend spanking and gets my butt all red and hot before he puts his wiener inside me. That's fun. –But it's no fun when Poppa's mad at me about something."
"So, do you really want me to be your Daddy?"
"You're the leader of all the men, aren't you?"
"Yep."
"Then you should be my Daddy. So you can tell me what to do and spank me if I'm naughty."
"You call your real Daddy 'Poppa'?"
"Yes, Sir."
"OK. From now on when anyone not in the platoon is around you call me Sergeant White. When it's just you and someone from the platoon you can call me Sergeant White or 'Daddy'. When it's just you and me you always call me 'Daddy' and you call your real daddy, 'Poppa'. You got that?"
I smiled up to the handsome face above me and hugged Sgt. White, and then kissed him right in the belly-button, which was as high as I could reach without stretching. "Yes, Daddy!'
Sgt. White smiled at me and I lifted the towel he was wearing. His thing was about half hard, arching out over a beautiful pair of large, low-hanging balls I ached to have in my mouth or in my hands. His cock wasn't at full size yet but he had a real whopper. I used both hands to pull back his loose foreskin and pushed the head of his sturdy mantool into my mouth. Lips stretched wide, I tongue cleaned the head and corona and then pulled off with loud 'smack' sound. He was delicious. He'd obviously been working hard that day and the smell of that days sweat on a clean young male body was nearly overwhelming. The taste of his daily collection of smegma and piss drippings was delicious. By the time I smacked loose from his male barb my little boner was at full mast and throbbing with need. I looked up and Sgt. White again and smiled, "I love you, Daddy!"
Sergeant White reached down and mussed the Marine Corps crew-cut I'd asked for before leaving the school, "You're going to work out just fine Little Bobby. Just fine!"
And that was all it took for me to receive the nickname I carry to this day. "Bobby". Or, to my close friends, "Little Bobby."
Sergeant White took my hand again and led me down through the Platoon Bay to the showers and bathroom at the far end of the barracks. Working my looks to the max, I put my thumb in my mouth and started sucking it as my new Daddy led me down to his men. Daddy looked down at me. The grin on his face and the additional bulge in the towel he was wearing told me all I needed to know, I was doing just fine.
Military SLUT
Chapter 2
Military Showers
Sergeant White led me into a white tiled room with a row of unpartitioned toilets, a trough urinal on one side and a row of sinks and mirrors on the other. An open doorway leaking steam was at the far end with a row of hooks on the adjacent wall. Sergeant White let go of my hand, hung my towel from one of the unused hooks and took off his towel so he could hang it on the next hook. With a supremely innocent look on my face, NO type of butter would even dream of melting in my mouth, and still sucking my thumb, I took hold of Sgt. White's half-turgid member with my now unoccupied hand. The stalwart sergeant smiled down at me and put his hand on my shoulder, guiding me over the raised threshold and into the occupied shower room.
I was in heaven. The somewhat crowded room lacked being full of steam only where the space was occupied by beautifully sculpted bodies. It was a good thing I had my thumb in my mouth or I'd have had drool running down my chin.
I think back and I can see that room, maybe 15' x 20'. Stark white 4" tiles, floor, walls and ceiling with unstained grout penetrated by four chrome shower arms on each side. The long walls stretch down from the doorway, the far end almost totally shrouded in murky steam. Forty men sharing the sixteen showerheads. Really HOT looking men who had stopped whatever they were doing, soapy water coursing down their slick perfect skin as they stared at their sergeant—and me.
Buff, Strong, Glistening Ebony Tower of Sculpted Muscle. Short, Smooth, Diminutive Boy. Powerful arm the thickness of the hairless boys torso terminating in a pink richer than the lily-white narrow shoulder it rested on. Shy boy sucking his thumb. One arm wrapped partially around the tree-trunk thick and stone hard thigh the boy partially sheltered behind, hand holding onto the thickly foreskinned cockhead that hung low between the sergeants thighs in lieu of the absent hand it had grasped earlier. Bright eyes peeking at the mixed up mass of naked masculine perfection arrayed in startled display, forty pairs of eyes returning the minute inspection.
"Gentlemen, I'd like you all to meet Bobby, our new SLUT."
The echoing susurrus of falling water suddenly broached by the babble of rumbling pleasure in male voices:
"Oh, WOW!"
"Slut?"
"Hey, someone finally came through for us...."
"Let go of my crank, Hank. I've got someone special to handle it for me now...."
"I want some of that!"
"Can we fuck him?"
"When..."
"Man! I need to crack a nut so bad I can taste it!"
"He gonna take care of all of us?"
"When...."
"How...."
"Me first!!!"
A surge forward of overpowering, lust-filled hard bodies. Fearful widening of eyes as the scared little boy ducks behind his protector.
"Hey! Knock it off!!"
Immediate cessation of sound and movement.
"You assholes trying to scare him off?"
Bashful looks spread from face to face. Apologies replaced lust as tension eased and the guys moved back under their showerheads."
"Sorry, Sarge."
"Hey, we didn't mean no harm, Bobby. We're just super glad to see you."
"Yeah. We horny, Bobby. We don't mean no harm."
"Yeah, well, you guys just go about your business while Bobby and I grab a shower. Bobby'll let you know when he wants to meet ya. You guys act like gentlemen, or we'll have one of my little talks. Understand?"
All the guys murmured agreement, obviously well aware of what being involved in one of Sgt. White's "little talks" entailed, and not being very interested in being the subject of such a discussion. The occupants of the end shower vacated it for Sgt. White and Bobby, everyone redistributing themselves amongst the remaining showerheads. Sgt. White put his hand on Bobby's back and pushed him under the abandoned showerhead. "Come-on, Boy. Let's get some of that travel dust off of you."
Bobby managed to relax as Sgt. White's big hands started soaping up his body, taking the chance to take his time and really look around the room at the fabulous array of male flesh surrounding him. Well, at least until the ham-handed sergeant tried to wash under his arms. The more he tried to escape the more determined Sgt. White became to wash the boy properly and the more ticklish the boy became, laughing and throwing himself around trying to escape the gleeful torture.
"AHHHHHAH! Stop! You're killing me!!! Don't!" All vastly distorted by peals of laughter.
"Just hold still and I'll be done in no time. You keep wiggling around like that and I'll never get done." Sgt. White said in a totally calm, unaffected voice. Just as if he were bored to tears and nothing at all was happening.
"Hank! Save me, Hank!" Bobby cried out. "Please, Hank... Don't let him kill me! Save me, Hank."
Hank, a tall, red-headed boy from East Texas, and not necessarily the brightest candle in the group, had no clue how the boy knew his name, but he knew a good thing when he heard it and snatched the soap-slick boy right out of the sergeant's hands. The slippery boy squirted right out of Pfc. Hank's hands and another of the strong young Marines caught the boy before he could hit the hard deck (floor, to you civilians!).
A mad scramble ensued with the slippery boy being passed from hand to hand as the Marines tried to keep the boy away from their sergeant. Bobby was pleased and excited at how often the young Marines found it necessary to grab him between the legs and under the arms in their attempts at possession. Bobby was laughing uncontrollably and squealing with delight as he was transferred from one set of eager hands to another in a massive game of touchie-feelie keep-away.
Almost exhausted from his trip around the showerroom as the Marines played a spontaneous cross between keep-away, touch football and grope-the-SLUT, Bobby finally ended up back in Pfc. Hank's strong arms. Bobby wrapped his arms around Hank's neck and his long, spindly legs around his powerful, but narrow chest and refused to let go, squealing for Hank to protect him from all the nasty men. The red-head valiantly tried to defend his desirable cargo until he slipped on the slick floor and was barely saved from landing right on top of his precious charge by the nearest pair of his buddies.
"All right. You Assholes knock it the fuck off!"
Everyone immediately backed off except the two Marines holding onto Hank. They got him to his feet and back under his shower and then they too returned quietly to their showers.
"Who's that?" Bobby whispered into Hank's ear, staring at the six-and-a-half-foot tall, white-blonde haired statute to Teutonic masculinity standing in the middle of the room glaring at everyone.
"That's Corporal Black," Hank whispered.
"He's the one that told you to let go of his dick, isn't it."
"So that's how you knew what my name was."
Bobby giggled, "Yeah. But is he really mean?"
"Nah. He just didn't want anyone getting hurt. That's all."
"Oh."
Bobby wiggled out of his new friend Hank's arms and slid down his long body to the deck, kissing the red-heads bare cockhead and giving it a quick suckle before walking over to where Cpl. Black was still staring the rest of the guys down. Bobby patted the almost invisibly haired hardness of Cpl. Black's super-fine ass.
"Corporal Black... You gonna keep scaring everybody, or are you going to help Hank give me a bath?"
Suddenly flustered, Cpl. Black glared down at the diminutive person patting his ass and then, at the sound of titters, swept the room with burning eyes, searching for the person bold enough to laugh at him.
With a disappointed shrug, Bobby turned and walked off with a casual, "Man! You need to get laid before you explode or something!"
LAUGH SUPPRESSION FAILURE. ALL SECTORS
Even Sgt. White came unglued. Barely stifled at first, the laughter soon erupted in smashing chords slamming from wall to sweating wall.
Wheeling, Cpl. Black zeroed in on where Bobby was busy climbing back up to his comfortable roost in Pfc. Hank's arms. "What are you! Some kind of comedian!?"
"Naw. I ain't no comedian. Besides, all YOU need is a straight man!"
Marines were struggling to keep each other standing. A couple didn't even try. They just sat on the wet floor, clutching their guts as they rolled around laughing like fools. Throwing his hands up in the air and shaking his head, Cpl. Black strode over to Bobby and the red-headed Texan. "OK, I know when I'm whipped!" he somewhat grudgingly surrendered. Picking up a bar of soap he started scrubbing the naked boys back.
"Now," purred Bobby, "isn't this much nicer?"
Pfc. Toomy, sitting on the floor next to the trio, fell over on his side and buried his face in his hands against the floor in an attempt to control his laughter.
If Bobby had been a cat, he'd have been purring. He rode the solid chest and belly of the fascinating red-headed Marine while the tall, massively built blond corporal ran big powerful hands all over his slender body. Pfc. Joe-Bob Hank wasn't wasting any time either. Following the soap slick laid down by his platoon corporal, Hank was getting a pretty good feel of the boys exciting body himself. An only son, raised on an out-in-the-sticks farm in bible-belt East Texas, Bob-Joe had never even thought of sex with another man, much less a little boy like the one clinging to him like a limpet. The boy's finely shaped head was resting on his shoulder and his arms were looped trustingly around his neck. Long, gangly legs surrounded his waist and he could feel the trusting boys stiff little pecker sliding rigidly against his belly. Feelings he'd never had before were welling up inside of ruff-n'-tough ol' Joe-Bob. Feelings of protectiveness for the little brother he'd never had mixed with lustful feelings that didn't jibe with his own view of himself. Hell, he wern't no queer! But somehow there was deep pleasure in holding and feeling up this young lad, and Pfc. Joe-Bob Hank had to admit to himself that he was, in fact, feeling the kid up—and both of them were liking it and none of his buddies was getting after him about what he was doin'. Hell, their eyes were full of lust. Lust and envy! Joe-Bob's pecker was enjoying it so much it almost burst a blood vessel! The SLUT had come to HIM first!
While Pfc. Hank was trying to figure out his feelings, and how to justify the big boner between his legs, Cpl. Black was taking a much more direct route. Raised in rural Germany into his mid-teens, the Teutonic bristle-haired twenty-four year old Marine was well aware of the way some men used boys. He himself had experience with lowering his mothers butcher bill by "running special errands" for the local butcher. That the only running was to the butchers well equipped back room never came up for discussion in the Swartchenswantch household. Horace "Hans" Swartchenswantch was eleven when the friendly butcher allowed him to join some of his friends in little "training sessions" that the butcher ran several times a day. Getting naked and watching each other take a variety of sizes and shapes of sausages up their butts was exciting for the entertainment challenged boys. After the sessions with the butcher, the older boys would often use the slickness left behind to put their own sausages up inside their playmates. Horace (so named by is quarter-English mother) was particularly adept at providing pleasure in this manner and was quite popular with some of the younger boys in town. By the time Horace was thirteen, the butcher was having special training sessions with the boy that consisted of fitting the boy with ever increasing sizes of sausages until he could fit his own personal sausage completely up inside the eager lad and then give his ass a long hard ride. If there was a lot of business and interruptions, Horace might just get his eager little ass ridden all afternoon by the portly and large-cocked butcher. An event that not only pleased the boy, but provided his dinner with a very low-cost main course. All this daydreaming combined with the silky tenderness under his hands had combined to give the now adult dreamer an erection of truly massive proportions.
Everyone in the platoon had, of course, seen everyone else naked. But no one had ever seen Cpl. Black on the rail before. In a group consisting of supremely well developed and fine figured men, Cpl. Black was universally acknowledged as extraordinary. Not over-built. Not really showy. But perfect. Six foot seven of perfectly proportioned male. His cock even looked normal, until you realized that to look normal on that tall, thickly muscled body, the cock had to be a really thick ten inches of hanging meat. And now, for the first time, they were seeing it jutting fully erect from the mans heavily muscled thews. The workout before their shower combined with the steamy heat of the shower and the mans obvious excitement over their new SLUT had produced a vision of manhood that riveted every man in the platoons attention. Hard muscles and prominent veins sliding so smoothly under the fair-haired mans pellucid skin as his powerful biceps and sharply delineated back muscles guided massive, dangerously trained hands so gently, tenderly over the boys fragile skin. All the young Marines were showing wood of one degree or another, some of it generated as least as much by Cpl. Black as by the new SLUT!
Hank massaged the boys tender ass and the boy moaned in pleasure, pushing his butt into the red-heads hands to urge even stronger massage that so obviously brought him pleasure. Black's hands massaged their way down the lads bony back to join Hank's lower massage. The boy made no bones about the fact that he expected his tiny little butthole to be massaged right along with the rest of his ass. Both men eagerly complied and got into some seriously lascivious rubbing and fumbling around ---- except that you really couldn't call what their experienced hands were doing, fumbling. Bobby was purring out loud and pushing his butt out further and further into his want-to-be tormentors active hands.
Joe-Bob Hank was the first one to actually slip a finger past the tiny pink entrance into the heated interior of the eagerly accepting boy. Corporal Horace, "Hans" Black watched in avid amazement, totally bemused, stunned by the sight of the long bony finger sliding so facilely into the tiny center of the neatly corrugated and pooched out button so tenderly exposed by the wide-spread boy-buns. Volitionlessly, Cpl. Black went down on one knee to more closely inspect the penetration of the tiny rosebud that was currently the subject of his intense scrutiny and undivided attention. The diminutive ring of elastic muscle was being indented and then pulled out into a volcano cone as the questing fingertip pumped back and forth as it sought to penetrate further. Even down at Hank's waist level, Cpl. Black could hear the boy whining with need, and it was obvious to him that the seeking finger was not going to penetrate the unlubricated hole any further without causing damage and pain, no matter how eager the recipient. Remembering the great care taken by the friendly butcher to make every penetration a joyfully anticipated event, Cpl. Black could do no less for the boy he was responsible for training. Without a thought to the possibly ribald reaction of those around him, the often coarse abuser of lesser souls leaned tenderly forward and provided the needed lubrication with softly suctioning lips and active, questing tongue.
Hank felt the warmth and applied slickness and moaned with desire. Removing his finger from the tightly clasping hole he allowed his corporal, a man who had often driven him to the edges of despair with his insistent demands for performance and perfection, to suck his finger deep into his mouth and nurse on it as if it were a long, slim cocklet. The corporal's mouth guided the finger back to the now pulsing rosebud and his thick tongue probed and packed even more slick spit into the miniature pucker. Hank's finger slid past Black's tongue and slid easily up inside of the distracted boy who immediately let out a long, low moan of deep-seated pleasure. Hank began eagerly fingerfucking the equally eager hole. Cpl. Black did his very best to assist the process with plenty of slick spit, carefully, avidly placed by his mouth and strong tongue. The other Marines watched in rapt amazement. Eating pussy --- yes! Everyone admitted to eating pussy—even those who never had. But eating another man's—or boy's"—asshole? Only in the grossest jokes or height of anger would something like that be mentioned. But Cpl. Black was obviously rimming the hell out of the new SLUT. Hank, respected because of his prowess on the rifle range, was obviously hitting a different sort of bull's-eye, and Cpl. Black, a man they all deeply respected, and feared to some extent, was down on his knees, or knee, as the case might be, eating the kid's ass for all he was worth, and apparently enjoying the hell out of what he was doing.
Everyone who had ever taken a shower with the corporal had been impressed by the thick, heavy German sausage hanging so fully over the truly impressive set of nuts. None of them had ever seen the corporals weapon in a battle-ready state before however. And they were all, each, severely, and universally impressed. Questing from the lower juncture of the corporals twisted hips, the long, smooth, silent bangladoor torpedo jutted heavily from the almost invisible thicket of pale blonde hair, the pellucid skin showed milky over a tracery of vivid blue veins and the hidden, deeply ridged core. The luminous skin continued in unbroken flow over the hidden head that bulged threateningly beneath the firm clasp of the loving sheath, only the very nose showing through the stretched open portcullis of the satiny foreskin. A long streamer of glistening viscid cock-snot twisted downward all the way to the wet floor from the tools single eye, spinning glints of brightness round the room as if seeking to illuminate the sought for hiding place.
Hank had two fingers from each hand prizing the boys tender portal open when Cpl. Black began to lick his way up the bony, shivering back. The powerful corporal leaned into Bobby's hairless back, scratching the kid with the soft blond hair that covered his chest. Lips and tongue sought the most erotic passage up the quivering boys neck and into his ear. As Cpl. Black's firm lips sought the softness of the boys mouth, one of his thick fingers replaced two of Hank's more agile members. Marines watched in amazement as Corporal Black passionately kissed Bobby while he fervently fingerfucked the boy and hunched up against the totally submissive boy. Submissive, and kissing back with every bit of the passion and delight his big suitor was showing. Totally amazing was that this was turning into a true Bobby-fuck. Hank's hands were all over Corporal Black's equipment, feeling his massive balls and stroking the thick solidity of the nine plus inch shaft. Hank was licking out the boys ear as his corporal was reaming out the boy's mouth with his thick tongue. Marines who had been surreptitiously touching themselves began to actively masturbate themselves while some of those who had been more open about touching their boners offered to help out their favorite buddies. The offers were quickly accepted and every cock in the room had at least one hand on it, including the long shaft belonging to Pfc. Hank which had somehow found it's way into one of Cpl. Black's powerful hands.
A gasp of surprise and murmurs of amazement accompanied Bobby's half smothered wail as he lifted and twisted his tight little bottom and, with an obviously practiced motion, captured the barbed end of the trembling, pulsing shaft belonging to the man on his back. A babble of excited response filled the room as Bobby bounced his butt and Pfc. Hank guided ever more of his corporals thickness into the boys unbelievably wide-stretched anus. When Bobby started to wail and was obviously unable to bounce down any further on the thick shaft, Pfc. Toomy and the guy who'd been feeling up his ass and jacking his dick, one Pfc. Sharp, fell to their knees and attacked the juncture of the man's cock and the boys ass. Hawking spit and licking from both sides, the privates first class (working on first class privates) managed to not only lubricate the man/boy juncture, but inflamed Cpl. Black beyond all redemption. One corkscrewing thrust and manly pubic hair met exposed hairless boys ass. Bobby wailed, "FUCK MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" on the top of his lungs and Corporal Black bit into the back of his neck while Joe-Bob Hank gave him a huge hickey on the side of his exposed throat. Hans Black started fucking, Bobby started bouncing and the smell of lust and man sex filled the steamy shower room.
Amazement showed on every face except Bobby's as Cpl. Black's monster cock completely disappeared up the new SLUT's widespread hole. Lust showed on Bobby's face. Lust and the need for MORE! Grinning a maniacal grin Bobby shrieked his pleasure as he was spread open and penetrated to his depths. He had dreamed of having a real man. Of being handled by a real man and used by a real man. His blurred vision showed him that the room was full of real men. Manly chests and manly loins. Heated hearts and lust-filled minds. Throbbing cocks and sweating balls. There wasn't a man in the room he wouldn't accept an invitation into his body—gladly! There wasn't a man in the room that didn't want into his body. It was obvious that except for a certain large and in-charge corporal, there would have been a major contretemps when a dozen horny males attempted to mount him at the same time. As it was, he had been mounted, and was rapidly loosing his ability to think with each gut-stretching, gut-sucking stroke of the German non-commissioned officer's gut-filling belly-pump. Gladly..., Bobby let go and let Corporal Horace "Hans" Black, USMC, ably assisted by Pfc. Bob-Joe Hank, have complete charge of his ass, his mind and his body.
Chapter 3
Reflections
Settling In
{Bobby} I was kind of scared when I first met Sgt. White. I mean, I'd never actually met a black man before. Heck, I'd never met a man that big before. I was already scared about meeting the Marines I'd been assigned too. I mean, MARINES! I'd wanted to be with men --- real men who could give me the attention I so eagerly anticipated --- but MARINES? Man! MARINES! They were like the best of the best. And the Raiders, the one's he'd been attached to, well, they were like the best of the best of the best --- and Sgt. White looked the part --- to a "T". Massive. Huge. Commanding. Imposing.
To be continued with:[Reflections by different characters, transition from romantic to hard sex] I need to write the future so I can make the past make sense. Look for an update to t his "chapter".
End of first Segment
——- The meaning of life is that it is meant to be lived.
—-Bruce Lee