"Your life will never be the same."
I look over at the man driving. "I know."
That man is my dad.
I responded with the briefest response I could so that we wouldn't get involved in a protracted conversation about life. I know he is trying to make this vacation more than what it is-a bunch of men getting together and shooting things. He finally gets to take me on one of his hunting trip now that I am of age. They happen every three to four years. This year it actually lines up with his fiftieth birthday. That is the only reason why I am here in his Ford truck driving eight hours to a hunting lodge for ten days.
The other men include men from his days in the Marines-his former Drill Instructor, a buddy Paul and Paul's son. I have only met the DI.
My father's drill instructor had a huge impact on my dad, so much that I am named after him; he is Sergeant Lennox Tate while I am Lennox Daniel Stevens. I hate my name and choose to go by Dan. The last time I saw Sgt. Tate, I went by Danny, but since I graduated High School, I keep my name short to sound older and more mature.
Sgt. Tate goes by many names, or so my dad tells me. He is Sgt Tate, or Sir, to his Marines, Ox-a shorten version of Lennox-to his superiors, or Len to the numerous women he dates.
My mom used to call him "that piece of shit." She hated how he manipulates and controls every situation he could and my dad would just go along with it. Sgt Tate insisted that I be named after him and my dad complied. My dad is not a pushover; it's just that Sgt Tate is so aggressive. My mom recognized this, which is why after their divorce-when I was six-she shielded me from Sgt Tate. I vaguely remember meeting him at my mom's funeral three years ago. I don't remember anything specific from that time, but his impact was burned into my memory.
Sgt Tate's nickname of Ox fits him. He's about six foot five, three hundred pounds of pure Marine Muscle covered in hair. He towers over anyone else in the room. With me being five foot eight inches of one sixty, I pale in comparison to him.
His massive size, his hairiness, and his attitude have formed my sexual cravings over the past decade, ever since I went through puberty. I love men. I love assertive men. I crave men just like Sgt Tate.
My problem is that I can't find them. I know they are out there. I see them all over the Internet, but living in the cornfields in the middle of the country makes it damn near impossible to find. Sure, I found the glory hole in the local mall attached to the bowling alley my dad bowls at. I spend a lot of time there. They have noisy double doors to get into and then a fifteen-foot walk to get back to the stalls. I suck a number of men there. I have gotten better at taking the larger ones. But these men lack what Sgt Tate has in spades.
Sure some of them have gotten verbal or grabbed my ears and fucked my mouth, which made me cum quickly. One man-whom I have never seen before or since-used me and used me good.
I went down on his cock through the glory hole. He pulled it out and came around to the front of my stall, like some men will do. I opened up my stall; he came in and grabbed me by my hair, pulling me off the toilet. I dropped to my knees. With his grip fully controlling my head he turned around and presented me his ass. "Lick it bitch" was the only words he said to me. Remembering some of the pictures I had seen on the Internet, I knew that guys did this. Why someone would want to lick where another man takes a shit was beyond me. But I licked, and man, did my opinion change. Now, I love to eat ass. The man didn't stop there, he spun around pointed his cock at my face and let go a torrent of piss all over my face and clothes. After blowing him, he left. He left me with a desire for ass.
I would like to say that he also got my piss desires going, but for as long as I can remember, I have always been into piss. I used to piss all over myself before taking a shower, or swimming in the lake. I like the way it feels coming out of my cock. I love the warmth. The smell turns me on. I will run my fingers through the stream from time to time. Once on an impulse, I licked my hand clean. I got an instant boner from the taste. So when the guy pissed in my mouth-the first man to do so-I knew that I needed more.
I only had one other man piss in my mouth. That's it. It is very hard to find a man who will piss for me or have me eat his ass when all they want from me is a blowjob on the other side of the glory hole. I sit for hours on that toilet hoping for a man to get piggish with. The sad thing is that I know I am not alone with my fetishes. I find websites all the time devoted to piss, rimming, sex in toilets, and even getting turned on to men farting on the toilet. What make it sad is that I am stuck in a place that I can do nothing about it.
My sex life consists of the Internet, a glory hole, and my hand.
"I remember when my dad first took me hunting. And, I was never the same." My dad was about to tell me again about hunting deer. This is my point where I zone back out.
My dad tries to bond with me, but we just don't connect. I like being quiet at home, while he was the quarterback. I read science fiction, while he watches sports. I work at the local five and dime, while he works fixing tractors. I love men, and he loves women. I want to break out of this god-awful place, and he wants me to take over his trade.
Our biggest fight is over my future. He wants me to go into the Marines, but I know that would be the biggest mistake of my life. He wants me to get a girlfriend, but that is another mistake waiting to happen.
"I know that it may not feel right to you, but when a man holds a gun in his hands . . . there is really nothing else that feels so right."
I look at him. I just don't get it. Why do I have to learn to shoot? The thought of killing an animal repulses me.
"Ah, it's kind of like fucking a girl."
Oh shit. Please God; don't let this conversation go to sex.
"Have you ever been with a girl?"
"Jesus dad! Do we have to talk about this?"
"Yeah! You should be going out and fucking a few girls."
"Dad! I told you that I am saving myself for the right one." That's actually a true statement. With as much as a glory hole tramp that I am, I am saving getting fucked until I found the right man. First this was my way of justifying the lack of opportunities. But actually it feels right. I want my first time to be special with a man that I trust.
"Well, let me tell you. Sarge has made arrangements with a good-looking whore from the city to come up on my birthday, as my present. After I fuck her, she'll get passed around. Son, I want you to go next."
Ugh! This conversation is not happening.
"The Sarge always has good taste in whores. This one will be up here for three days. He always provides entertainment on every trip. She's costing him a pretty penny."
Sgt Tate is a wealthy man. He could afford all the whores he wants. From what I overheard years ago as part of an argument between my mom and Sgt Tate, he is worth about ten million dollars, probably a lot more.
"Where did Sgt Tate get all that money?" I am glad the thought went from my mind to my mouth-anything to get away from my dad's desire to have his sloppy seconds.
"Despite everything you might think, or what your mother told you, Sarge is quite an intelligent man. Exceptionally intelligent. He loves when he is mistaken for a dumb bodybuilder. It always puts him at an advantage.
"Being in the Marines his whole adult life he had opportunities to work on inventions that would help his brother Marines be better. Three of them-I think there were three, maybe more-were licensed to contractors. Each one gave him a healthy check.
"His commanding officers wanted him to go into research, but he wanted to stay put. He thought that making a better Marine was more important than making a piece of equipment.
"He has a lot of money. Besides the lodge, he has two houses-his main one and one in Mexico. He had each one built to his specification. That takes a lot of money to do. The property the lodge is on is enormous. So don't go wandering off. You'll be lost in minutes, and the closest neighbors are a few hours away."
Great, I'm going to be trapped in the middle of nowhere for a week and a half.
"Does it have running water?" I know it is a smart-ass question.
"Don't be stupid. It has running water, toilets, electricity, the Internet, everything. You'll be comfortable." He has the Internet! Fuck yeah! "And watch your fucking mouth, Sgt Tate does not appreciate smart asses. Trust me you don't want to be alone with the Sarge in the woodshed." Yes I do! I would give anything to be alone with Sgt Tate.
The drive continues on for five more hours, with the last two driving in the woods on gravel roads. We finally arrive at the lodge at about six o'clock. There is only one other truck parked out front. My dad jumps down on the ground and like a kid runs into the house. I am left to carry our duffle bags in.
I can hear men cheering from the greeting. A few seconds later, as I am at the foot of the steps leading to the wrap around porch and the front door, HE emerges.
"Hello Danny boy!"
"Hello Sergeant Tate."
He is everything I remember and more. Big does not begin to describe this man. The lodge is easily six bedrooms with a giant living room, two stories, and yet is dwarfed by this man. His hair is a little grayer than I remember, still in the military buzz cut. His moustache is salt and pepper precisely trimmed to Marine standards.
He wears a tank top. This exposes hair on his massive arms and shoulders. His chest hair pours over the top. I can definitely make out big perky nipples poking his shirt. It is tight covering his torso.
His camouflage pants are baggy, yet they don't even try to hide the thick tree trunk legs inside.
"Oh Danny, you can call me 'Sir'."
"Sir, you can call me Dan."
He looked at me, sizing me up, gauging my response. "Ok Danny."
I expect that he wouldn't let my little challenge go without a response.
He winks at me, "Here let me take one of those bags."
Grabbing my dad's bag he turns to enter the house. Then I see it. He has a massively beefy ass. Of all the asses I have seen on the Internet, I tend to gravitate towards the big ass of a beef man. I want to run up there, grab that ass, and eat it.
He goes into the house leaving me to pick up my jaw. Oh yes, this is the man I have jerked off to for years.
I follow him in. I see my dad talking with two other men. One is a fellow Marine Paul; the other is his son Paul Jr. who goes by Junior. Junior is excited that he is going to father for the first time. His wife is due a week after we all return from the trip.
They are both attractive men, with Paul Sr., a little more due to his stockiness.
Sgt Tate comes out of the hallway. "Steaks will be ready in about a half an hour. We'll eat on the back deck."
During the half hour I emptied my duffle bag in my own room. The room is gigantic. It has two closets, a big screen TV, and most importantly a wifi signal. I log on and check my e-mail.
"Dan." My dad sticks his head into my room. "There will be enough time for that. Dinner is ready."
I go out on the back deck, and the view is spectacular. The sun is about to set, and the view over the small lake is breathtaking. I overhear Sarge talking as he takes the stakes off the grill. "I just bought the rights to the other side of the lake, from a little old lady who wasn't going to do anything with it. So now that whole thing is mine. A little later we'll get a fire going down there, have some brews. Except for Danny there, since he's still 20."
The Sarge doesn't allow underage drinking. He doesn't allow gun handling by anyone under 18 which is why this is my first time here.
"Don't worry Danny, there will be plenty for you to drink."
It was at this time that Sgt Tate came from behind the barbeque. He changed his camouflage pants into cotton shorts that showed everything. Each ass cheek is perfectly round. The bulge from his cock could not be missed. I was staring at it a bit to long when the Sarge catches me looking at it. After a second where out eyes meet I look away. I can see him smile in my peripheral vision.
The Sarge boasts, "Dig in to some of the best steaks out there. The most tender meat you will ever stick into your mouth."
My Dad adds, "You are such a damn good cook. You always have the best of the best."
I begin to have the beginnings of a hard on. I quickly sit down to hide it. Sgt Tate drops a steak in front of me and says, "Eat up boy, I bet you will never have a better big juicy slab of meat in front of you like that. My meat is the best"
Is he coming on to me? What the fuck? What do I do? How do I respond? He could be talking about his steak? Or, he could be talking about his cock.
The Sarge sits down next to me and begins to laugh. The others laugh as well. They all got his joke. I hesitate laughing. My dad offers, "Son, the Sarge was making a joke. He has a twisted sense of humor."
I'll say. Is the comment a direct comment about me, or am I just a random target for his pun. I could not say, but I diffuse the situation by saying "I get it." I resume eating in quiet.
After dinner, the four men smoke cigars. I can't stand the smell, and I go to my room. I surf the Internet, anything to get my mind off of Sgt Tate.
It's about ten o'clock when my dad sticks his head in my room, "Hey Dan, join us down by the lake."
"I'll be down in just a minute."
He leaves me finish an e-mail. I grab a bottled water and head on down.
"Lookie here." Sgt Tate says. "The boy can actually be pulled away from his laptop. Have a seat. Join us. Water and soda is in that cooler over there next to the beer cooler. If you have to take a piss the trees behind us are a lot closer than the climb back up to the lodge."
I sit down and drink water. An hour passes, and the two Pauls and my dad are tipsy. Sgt. Tate is drinking water as well. I have to take a piss. I get up and walk over to the trees. I hear a howl in the distance towards the house. I stop to look at the house for a few moments. I hear footsteps behind me.
"That's nothing. He's nowhere near us." It's Sgt Tate coming up behind me. By his direction, he is walking towards the trees as well. Holy fuck, I am going to see Sgt Tate taking a piss. "The trees are this way."
He and I walk into a grouping of trees. The other three cannot see us. "Where do we piss?"
"Anywhere, pick a tree, take out your pecker, and start pissing."
He proceeds to do just that right in front of me. He is not shy in showing off his cock. The thing is massive. I have never sucked anything that big through the glory hole. I don't even think it would fit through it. It is circumcised with an enormous head.
"Go on, take your pecker out." I reach in and take it out. I hope that it isn't hard.
"See. Now just let the piss flow. I see you have a little one there." In comparison, every man has a little one.
"It's average."
"For a boy. This is a real man cock." He shakes the remaining piss off.
I am starting to get hard. I stop my flow, causing mild pain.
"You should tuck that thing away, before people start taking pity." He laughs. He puts an arm around me leading us down to the fire pit. I am truly shaken by this. The Sarge walks off to the coolers.
My dad leans over and whispers, "Did he show you his cock? He loves showing it off and making others feel less of a man that he is. Don't take it personally. We've all had to piss next to him at one time or another."
Sgt Tate returns with two water bottles, one for him and one for me. For the next hour we all continue drinking. I decide that I won't get up to piss until Sgt State does, because I don't want to miss the sight of him pissing again.
My dad and the two Pauls are getting drunker. Paul Jr. is going on and on about feeling guilty about leaving his expecting wife.
The Sarge is sitting there with his legs spread. I can see up the pant leg and barely make out his cock head. He knows what I am doing. He has to. But he doesn't move his leg. Another hour brings another water bottle, and Paul Jr. passed out. Paul Sr. and my dad are rambling on about their time in the Marines, completely oblivious to the sexual tension building between the Sarge and me.
The Sarge stands and rubs his tummy. "I have to piss." My dad and Paul don't even notice.
The Sarge walks off. What am I waiting for? I get up and quickly follow the Sarge. He stops and turns to me.
"I thought you might follow me."
"What?" Damn I'm found out. But, thinking about it, I am kind of obvious.
"You're following me up here to check out my cock again. Ain't that right?"
"Well, um, no." What am I doing? I have lusted after this man for years, and I am saying no to seeing his cock again. This isn't right.
"Look, you have been staring at my cock all night ever since you got here." He steps up to me, towering over me. He jabs his finger into my chest. "Now you are going to do more. You are going to give me some much-needed head. I pegged you for a faggot as soon as I saw you as a six year old. So if you are going to give me head, great follow me over there and give me some great head. No one needs to know. If not, find another tree and fuck off. The decision is yours."
"I want to give you head."
He smacks me across the face. "Address me with respect faggot."
"I want to give you head Sir."
"Much better. Now I want you to ask me to allow you the privilege of blowing me. Ask, 'Sir, I am a faggot. May I suck your cock?' " I pause. "Don't make me repeat it."
"Sir, I am a faggot. May I suck your cock?"
"Yeah. Get in those trees and on your knees. I have to take one hell of a piss. It seems that a certain faggot was holding in his piss hoping I needed to go first, and my bladder got full."
Holy shit, I am about to see him piss and then I'll get to give him head. I hope he lets me lick the drops of piss off the top of his cock. Hell, I would love to drink his entire bladder.
Then I have a thought in my head, and before I could process it, I blurt that thought out, "May I drink your piss too?"
Oh shit. I cannot believe I say that. He stops walking. Slowly he turns to me. He raises his eyebrow. I am petrified. I cannot move. He steps towards me rubbing his chest.
"Did I hear right? Repeat yourself faggot."
What do I do? Do I deny it, or do I . . . aw fuck it. I am already out. In for a penny-in for a pound. "Sir, I am a faggot. I love piss. I would love to drink yours. May I drink yours straight from your cock Sir? May I suck you off afterwards? May I drink your cum?" I figure asking him for all three is appropriate.
"Well what do you know? Stevens's boy is a faggot that likes to drink piss." He starts walking around me. "Keep your head facing forward and eyes down." I do. "Well now I seem to have me a piss faggot to use over the next week." Oh yes, thank you god. He is going to use me to drink his piss.
With him standing behind me, I feel him reach around and into my shorts. He grabs my rock hard cock and balls and pulls them out. "You are excited about drinking my piss. I want you to piss first. So let go. Do not move any part of your body, except the muscles used to piss."
I concentrate hard. Then a drop comes from my dick. Then another. Then a tiny stream. Then a strong flow.
"Good. Good." Sgt Tate takes out his cock and starts stroking it. It gets hard too. "When you are done, it will be my turn to piss, . . . straight into your tummy." He watches for a few minutes more before walking over to the trees. He looks back at me.
My piss starts to trickle again.
"Bitch get your cunt and mouth over here. I need to take one hell of a piss."
I race over to him, my hard cock bouncing the way. He grabbed my cock and balls in his massive hand and squeezed.
"Put this thing away. You are here to focus on my cock, not yours."
I put my cock and balls away looking down at the largest cock I have ever seen.
"It ain't going to suck itself."
I drop to my knees in front of it. I am in awe of how beautiful it is in this low light. I grab a hold of it, like I would if it were coming through a glory hole. It is hard and ready to go. I begin to lick all over the head.
There is no way I can swallow this. I need to find a way of getting him off. I start jerking his shaft.
"Oh, no. No. No. No. NO! You may blow other men with that pathetic technique, but it ain't going to work for me. Have you ever blown a cock this big faggot?"
I pull off of his head. "No."
He slaps me on the side of my head. "With more respect bitch."
"No, Sir."
"Better. Well you are going to learn awfully quick. Your hands should be behind you." I put them there. "Open your throat. Try to lick my balls when my cock is in your mouth." I stick my tongue out.
He grabs the back of my head and shoves his cock right to the base. I gag and try to pull off. He is too strong. It is so hard for me to breathe. Now he is writhing, grinding his cock into my mouth.
"Taste my balls boy." I try to, but to no avail. I put my hands on his thighs. "Those hands best be going behind your back immediately."
I place them behind me. He pulls his cock out so that the head is all that remains in my mouth.
"Now let's see how well you swallow." After a brief gasp for air, I have to struggle to swallow the stream of piss coming from his cock. It isn't a great torrent, as he is still hard. The piss doesn't taste like piss, probably because he drank so much water.
There is a moment where I realize that I am drinking Sgt Tate's piss, the man who I have jerked off to for years. I finally get to taste his cock and his piss. I smile as the piss starts to slow to a halt.
"What the fuck are you smiling about?"
I pull off of his cock. "I have been jerking off to you for years, and now I have your cock in my mouth."
"Ain't that nice. Glad I could make your day. Now SUCK!" He thumps his cock on my face. Damn! That is on heavy cock.
I get back to sucking the best I can.
After a minute he says, "We have to wrap this up. Your dad may be drunk but he isn't blind." He then grabs my head and starts to fuck it.
His breathing picks up. I know he is about to explode.
"Bitch get ready." My head is impaled on his cock. My nose is buried in his pubes. Once again, I cannot breathe. He grunts. I know he is cumming, but I cannot taste it. I feel the pulsing of is cock shooting his load down directly into my stomach.
He slowly pulls out his cock. So again, his cock head rests in my mouth. Now I can taste his delicious cum. But after a few moments of sucking the last few drops of cum out of his cock, I begin to taste piss. He unleashes a second torrent of piss into my mouth. I can feel his dick soften up as his piss slows down.
"Bitch. Listen up. That was pathetic, but you do show some promise. I'll make sure you can take this cock without any problem by the end of next week."
Hot damn. I get to blow him and drink his piss during this trip.
"Now. I shouldn't have to say it, but no one needs to know about you being a piss drinking faggot bitch, now do they?"
"No Sir."
"Remember, I control all shots around here. That includes you not shooting. I don't want you to touch yourself. Your cock needs to be left alone. You understand that?"
He kicks me between the legs, nailing my balls. I roll to the ground in pain.
"Those hands better not touch that cock. I asked you a question. You understand that?"
I know I need to answer. "Yes Sir."
"Good now stand up."
With everything I have, I stand up. He grabs he by the hair, pulling my head back. He leans over and shoves his tongue into my mouth. For about a minute, I am lost in his kiss. For about a minute, I don't acknowledge the pain in my balls. For about a minute, I couldn't care less if my dad should see me.
Sgt. Tate pulls his tongue out of my mouth. I see his face up close as he looks into my eyes. With that stare, I know he is asserting his control over me.
"Now let's go get the others. We all need sleep. Tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day."
His gives me a friendly but firm slap. He releases my hair and begins to walk down to the three drunken men.
My dad and Paul Sr. didn't even miss us. Sgt Tate tells them it's time to sleep. Paul Sr. asks, "What about Junior?"
Sgt Tate walks over to the passed out man, picks him up, and throws him over his shoulder. My dad and Paul Sr. cheer and chant "Sarge! Sarge! Sarge!"
"Alright men and lady," he says looking at me, "let's get some shut eye."
With that we all go into the lodge. I walk my dad to his room. He falls on the bed fully clothed. I think he passed out during the fall.
I come out of his room to see Sgt Tate pushing Paul Sr. into his room. I walk into the kitchen to get a quick snack. I hear Sgt Tate arguing with Paul. He uses his Drill Instructor tone to get Paul to shut up and into bed.
I finish eating a banana when Sgt Tate comes into the kitchen.
"Get to bed." As I walk by him, he grabs my crotch. "And remember, this is to be left alone. I will know if it isn't." I don't know how, but I believe him.
"Yes Sir."
I head to bed. I strip down to my underwear, and crawl into bed. My cock wants attention, but I know better.